A Book of Burlesque: Sketches of English Stage Travestie and Parody

by William Davenport Adams

  III.

  "CLASSICAL" BURLESQUE.

  Planche was not only the founder of modern burlesque: he was theoriginator, in particular, of that form of travestie which is commonlydescribed as "classical"--which deals with the characteristics andadventures of the gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines, of theGreek and Latin mythology and fable. It is true that comic pieces onclassical subjects had been played in England before Planche broughtout, at the Olympic, his "Olympic Revels"[6] (January 1831). But thesepieces were not burlesques in the present-century sense of the word.Take, for example, the "Midas" of Kane O'Hara, which, produced in 1762,remained popular for so many years, and will always be remembered asincluding the once famous ditty:--

  Pray, goody, please to moderate the rancour of your tongue: Why flash those sparks of fury from your eyes? Remember, where the judgment's weak the prejudice is strong, A stranger why will you despise?

  [6] In "Olympic Revels," as in some other pieces, Planche had the valuable assistance of Charles Dance.

  The gods and goddesses are presented in "Midas" in a light more orless ludicrous, and the dialogue, songs, and choruses are flavouredwith contemporary allusion, more or less humorous. But the form givento the work is that of the old-fashioned burletta. Indeed, the chiefmerit of "Midas," from a historical point of view, lies in the factthat it was its successful revival, with Mme. Vestris as Apollo, which,coupled with the publication of Colman junior's story, "The Sun-Poker,"suggested to Planche the composition of his first "classical"burlesque. This had for subject the story of Prometheus and Pandora,and was remarkable, not only for the smooth flow of its versificationand the general refinement of its tone, but also for the accuracy andconsistency of the costumes, which were throughout "classical," andtherefore in strong contrast to the haphazard, incongruous attire inwhich "classical" characters had hitherto been exhibited on the comicboards.

  Prometheus and Pandora, I may note, figured later--in 1865--as theleading personages in Mr. Reece's "Prometheus, or the Man on theRock,"[7] in which the writer differed from his predecessor inadmitting into his dialogue a large infusion of the punning element.In this direction Mr. Reece has always been proficient. Here are a fewspecimens of his work, picked out at random:--

  [7] Byron also wrote a burlesque in which Prometheus figures--"Pandora's Box," seen at the Prince of Wales's in 1866.

  "Those steeds of yours will burn my house some day. Fine animals."

  "That leader came from Sestos; Stands _fire_ well, and so he counts _as best 'os_."

  "What! don't you think me handsome?"

  "Not very. You've got _red hair_!"

  "Well, that's _hair-red_-itary."

  "Why, darn your impudence!"

  "There, stop your clatter. With all your _darning_ you'll not _mend_ the matter."

  "A couch that's made 'midst buttercups, he's shy on; The verdant sward how could a _dandy lie on_?"

  "You jeer at Pallas 'cos she's strict and staid. With all your _railing_ you'll need _Pallas' aid_!"

  Planche's "Olympic Revels" proved so brilliantly successful that he wasencouraged to follow it up, at the end of the year, with a companioncomposition--"Olympic Devils, or Orpheus and Eurydice." In this work,James Bland, the son of the lady who "created" Planche's Coquetinda,made his first appearance in burlesque, and among the female Bacchanteswho took part in the groupings was a clever young girl, named LeonoraPincott, who was destined one day to be a great public favourite as"Mrs. Alfred Wigan." In "Olympic Devils" Planche's style is seen toexcellent effect. Note, as an instance, the remarks addressed by Minos,Lord _Low_ Chancellor, to the Fates:--

  I vow you Fates are most industrious spinsters! Miss Clotho there--man's destiny beginning-- Life's thread at tea, like a tee-totum spinning. And then Miss Lachesis that same thread measures, Taking great pains, but giving little pleasures. Last comes Miss Atropos, her part fulfilling, And cuts poor mortals off without a shilling. The saddest sister of the fatal three, Daughter, indeed, of _shear_ necessity! Plying her awful task with due decorum, A never-ceasing game of "snip-snap-snorum"! For help, alas! man pleads to her in vain-- Her motto's "Cut and _never_ come again."

  Elsewhere Orpheus says to Eurydice:--

  I am a lunatic for lack of thee! Mad as a March hare--oh, _ma chere_ amie!

  But Planche had a higher wit than that of punning. His satire andsarcasm have an agreeable, because not too pungent, cynicism--as insuch little scraps of song as this (following upon the scene in whichOrpheus, hearing that his wife is flirting with Pluto, cannot resistlooking back at her and thus consigning her again to Pluto's tendermercies):--

  _Orpheus._ I have looked back--in your snare I am caught, sir-- Pluto, thou'st cut a fond pair to the core! Oh, have I come all this way to be taught, sir, That folks who would thrive must keep looking before?

  _Euryd._ You have looked back--in the snare you are caught, sir-- They who cheat him, faith, have none to cheat more! A man of the world--have you yet to be taught, sir, When your wife flirts behind you, to look straight before?

  In after years H. J. Byron wrote two burlesques on the legend ofOrpheus and his wife, both of them produced at the Strand Theatre,[8]and it is notable that when Planche made, in 1865, at the Haymarket,his last appearance as a writer of extravaganza, it fell to his lot totreat once more of Orpheus and his surroundings.[9]

  [8] In 1863 and 1871.

  [9] "Orpheus in the Haymarket." An opera buffo, founded on the French of Hector Cremieux. Performed, with music by Offenbach, by David Fisher, W. Farren, Louise Keeley, Nelly Moore, and Miss H. Lindley.

  Planche's third classical burlesque was "The Paphian Bower, or Venusand Adonis," in which Benjamin Webster was seen for the first time inthis class of histrionic work. Mme. Vestris, of course, was Venus, andin the course of the piece had to sing this eminently clever parody of"Sally in our Alley":--

  Of all the swains that are so smart, I dearly love Adonis; And pit-a-pat will go my heart, Till he bone of my bone is. No buckskin'd beau of Melton Mow- bray rides so capitally. Oh, he's the darling of my heart, And he hunts in our valley!

  Jupiter and the neighbours all Make game of me and Doney; But, notwithstanding, I with him Contemplate matrimony. For he can play on the _cornet_, And sing most musically; And not a Duke in all the land Can beat him at "Aunt Sally."

  Venus and Adonis have always been great favourites with the producersof travestie. Among those who have made them the central figures ofburlesque are Mr. Burnand, whose work was brought out in 1864, andMr. Edward Rose, whose "Venus," written in collaboration with the Mr.Augustus Harris, and first performed at the Royalty in 1879 (with MissNelly Bromley as the heroine), was re-written for revival, and finallytaken as the foundation of a third production in 1880.

  In "The Deep, Deep Sea," brought out in 1833, Planche selected as thebasis of his work the story of Perseus and Andromeda. He treated itwith his usual reverence for the original legend. He represented Junoand the Nereids as being angry with King Cepheus, and sending thesea-serpent to devastate his shores. James Vining played the Serpent,and his approach was announced to the monarch in the following strain:--

  Mighty monarch, stir your stumps as if Old Nick were following: A serpent with an awful twist has landed on your shore; Our gallant soldiers, guns and all, by regiments he's swallowing; And munching up musicians and composers by the _score_!

  Of counsel learned in the law but _brief_ work he is making-- Apothecaries just as they were pills, sir, he is taking; He snaps the parson right in two, as well as his oration; And ere the beadle bolts the door, he bolts the congregation!

  Mighty monarch, stir your stumps, for court and caravansary Are emptied of i
nhabitants all crazy with affright; The monster he is longer far than any suit in Chancery, And beats the Court of Aldermen, by chalks, for appetite!

  The Serpent, when he arrives, introduces himself to the king in anengaging fashion:--

  All bones but yours will rattle when I say I am the sea serpent from America. Mayhap you've heard that I've been round the world; I guess I'm round it now, mister, twice curled.... Of all the monsters through the deep that splash, I'm "number one" to all immortal smash. When I lie down, and would my length unroll, There ar'n't half room enough 'twixt pole and pole. In short, I grow so long that I've a notion I must be measured soon for a new ocean.

  The exaggeration which is so characteristic of American humour is herehappily satirised. In another passage, Perseus, addressing himselfto Andromeda, sings a neatly turned parody of "We met--'twas in aCrowd":--

  We met! 'twas at the ball, Upon last Easter Monday; I press'd you to be mine, And you said, "Perhaps, one day." I danced with you the whole Of that night, and you only; Ah, ne'er "cavalier seul" Felt more wretched and lonely. For when I squeezed your hand, As we turned one another, You frown'd and said, "Have done! Or I'll speak to my mother!"

  They called the Spanish dance, And we flew through it fleetly-- 'Twas o'er--I could not breathe, For you'd blown me completely. I led you to a seat Far away from the dancers; Quadrilles again began, They were playing "the Lancers"; Again I squeezed your hand, And my anguish to smother You smiled, and said, "Dear Sir, _You_ may speak to my mother."

  In 1861 Perseus and Andromeda reappeared upon the comic stage at theinstance of William Brough, who made them the hero and heroine of aburlesque at the St. James's.

  The story of Telemachus was the subject which engaged the attention ofPlanche immediately after he had done with Perseus. Fenelon's tale hadbecome extremely familiar to the British schoolboy, who at that timewas not thought to have "grounded" himself sufficiently in French untilhe had read the narrative in the original. Hence Planche's "Telemachus,or the Island of Calypso,"[10] concerning which the author tookcredit to himself once more for having "preserved the well-knownplot with the most reverential fidelity." Ten years later the samesubject was treated in the "Telemachus" of Stirling Coyne, played atthe Adelphi with Miss Woolgar in the title-part, Wright as Calypso (aballet-dancer!) and Paul Bedford as the hero's Mentor or "tor-Mentor."In 1863 the story of the parents of Telemachus proved attractive to Mr.Burnand, whose "Patient Penelope" made her curtsey at the Strand, tobe followed at the St. James's, two years later, by the same writer's"Ulysses."

  [10] Played at the Olympic in 1834.

  Still tracing the course of Planche's labours in burlesque, we comenext to the production, at the Haymarket in 1845, of "The GoldenFleece"--perhaps, on the whole, the most delightful of the series.In this ingenious and brilliant piece, the two parts of which wereentitled respectively "Jason in Colchis" and "Medea in Corinth,"Planche had taken the narrative of Apollonius Rhodius and the tragedyof Euripides, and had built upon them a composition in which he soughtless to cast ridicule upon the legends selected than to travestie whathe called "the _modus operandi_ of the classical period, which reallyillustrates the old proverbial observation that there is but one stepfrom the sublime to the ridiculous." He brought again upon the stagethe ancient Chorus, incarnated in a single person, who explained theaction of the piece as it went on, not hesitating even to interruptit when the humorous opportunity occurred. Charles Mathews undertookthe part, heralded by a jocose announcement on the "bills" to theeffect that "The lessee has, regardless of expense, engaged Mr. CharlesMathews to represent the whole body of the chorus, rendering at leastfifty-nine male voices entirely unnecessary." In the opening scene, theChorus thus described his functions:--

  Friends, countrymen, lovers, first listen to me: I'm the Chorus; _whatever_ you hear or you see That you don't understand, I shall rise to explain-- It's a famous old fashion that's come up again, And will be of great service to many fine plays That nobody can understand nowadays; And think what a blessing if found intervening, When the author himself scarcely knows his own meaning. You may reap from it, too, an advantage still further: When an actor is bent upon marriage or murther, To the Chorus his scheme he in confidence mentions, 'Stead of telling the pit all his secret intentions; A wondrous improvement you all will admit, And the secret is just as well heard by the pit. _Verbum sat._--To the wise I'll not put one more word in, Or instead of a Chorus, they'll think me a _burden_.

  Later in the piece, announcing the approach of King AEetes (Bland), theChorus interposed with:--

  AEetes comes, looking as black as thunder, And when you hear the cause you'll say "No wonder"; For Jason, aided by Medea's spell, Has done the trick, and done the King as well. You'll think, perhaps, you should have seen him do it, But 't isn't classical--you'll hear, not view it. Whatever taxed their talents or their means, These sly old Grecians did _behind_ the scenes; So, fired with their example, boldly we Beg you'll suppose whate'er you wish to see.

  Elsewhere occurred this famous bit of badinage between King andChorus:--

  _Chorus._ Be calm, great King--'tis destiny's decree.

  _AEetes._ How dare you talk of destiny to me! What right have you with such advice to bore us?

  _Chorus._ Sir, I'm the Chorus.

  _AEetes._ Sir, you're indecorous.

  In the course of the piece Mathews sang, among other things, anexcellent ditty, to the tune of "The Tight Little Island":--

  'Twas very ungrateful, you'll say, sir, But, alas! of the world it's the way, sir, When all a friend can, you have done for a man, He'll cut you quite dead the next day, sir.

  But perhaps the most successful parody in "The Golden Fleece" was thaton "The Fine Old English Gentleman," assigned to Mme. Vestris as Medea.This is worth quoting in full:--

  I'll tell you a sad tale of the life I've been led of late, By the false Boeotian Boatswain, of whom I am the mate: Who quite forgets the time when I pitied his hard fate And he swore eternal constancy by all his gods so great; Like a fine young Grecian gentleman, One of the classic time!

  Now he lives in a fine lodging, in the palace over there, Whilst I and his poor children are poked in a back two-pair; And though he knows I've scarcely got a second gown to wear, He squanders on another woman every farthing he's got to spare, Like a false young Grecian gentleman, One of the classic time.

  He leaves me to darn his stockings, and mope in the house all day, Whilst he treats her to see "Antigone," with a box at the Grecian play, Then goes off to sup with Corinthian Tom, or whoever he meets by the way, And staggers home in a state of beer, like (I'm quite ashamed to say) A fine young Grecian gentleman, One of the classic time.

  Then his head aches all the next day, and he calls the children a plague and a curse, And makes a jest of my misery, and says, "I took him for better or worse"; And if I venture to grumble, he talks, as a matter of course, Of going to Modern Athens, and getting a Scotch divorce! Like a base young Grecian gentleman, One of the classic time.

  "Medea," it will be remembered, was the title and subject of aburlesque by Robert Brough, brought out at the Olympic in 1856, withRobson in the title-part, Emery as Creon (King of Corinth), and JuliaSt. George as Jason. Medea ("the best of mothers, with a brute of ahusband," as the sub-title has it) was one of Robson's most impressive_roles_, being charged at more than one point (notably in the closingscene, which was played by all the characters in serious fashion) withreal tragic intensity. In the lighter vein were such episodes as theduet with Jason (to the air of "Robinson Crusoe"), which I quote asillustrative of the
neatness and humour with which Brough constructedsuch trifles:--

  _Medea._ I have done for this man All that tenderness can, I have followed him half the world through, sir; I've not seen him this year, And the first thing I hear Is "he's going to marry Creusa." Going to marry Creusa, Going to marry Creusa, Ting a ting ting! Ting a ting ting! All I can say, sir, is, _do_, sir.

  _Jason._ If you'll take my advice, You'll pack up in a trice, Nor of time to pack off be a loser; For the popular wrath Will be likely to froth 'Gainst a foe to myself or Creusa. I am going to marry Creusa, And, believe me, the best thing for you's a Fast ship to bespeak, And some desert isle seek, Like a sort of she Robinson Cruiser.

  The last of Planche's classical burlesques was produced at the Lyceumin 1848. It was on the subject of "Theseus and Ariadne," and wasfortunate in the services of Charles Mathews as Daedalus. In thischaracter Mathews sang a song which Planche had written for privateperformance and had brought "down to date" for the occasion. It is oneof the happiest _melanges_ ever put together, beginning--

  I'm still in a flutter--I scarcely can utter The words to my tongue that come dancing--come dancing; I've had such a dream that I'm sure it must seem To incredulous ears like romancing--romancing. No doubt it was brought on by that Madame Wharton, Who muddled me quite with her models--her models; Or Madame Tussaud, who in waxwork can show Of all possible people the noddles--the noddles.

  The only song, of the kind, worthy to compare with this, is thedescription of the Heavy Dragoon sung by Colonel Calverly in the"Patience" of Mr. Gilbert, who, as a master of light badinage andintricate rhythm and rhyme, is the lineal descendant of the author of"Theseus and Ariadne."

  After Planche, the most notable of the deceased writers of "classical"burlesque is undoubtedly Francis Talfourd. Planche's knowledge of theGreek mythology and drama was admittedly derived from translationsand from dictionaries; Talfourd was a university man, and had anat-first-hand acquaintance with the masterpieces which he so skilfullytravestied. The marks of this are visible in all his "classical"pieces, and notably in the first of them--"Alcestis, the OriginalStrong-minded Woman, being a most Shameless Misinterpretation of theGreek drama of Euripides." This was played at the Strand in 1850. The"argument" prefixed to it is an excellent bit of punning:--

  Admetus, being due to Death, and as such totally unprepared to take himself up, is about to betake himself down, according to previous arrangement, when Orcus, who had meanwhile been trying his mean wiles on Alcestis (Admetus' very much better half), expresses himself willing to receive her as a substitute; her husband, friends, and relations not feeling quite so disposed to be disposed of. Alcestis, however, consents, packs up her traps, and then obligingly goes packing down those of Orcus. At this melancholy juncture, Hercules chances to be passing through Thessaly, on his return from his provincial engagements, and, having a knack of turning up a trump at a _rub_, plays his club so judiciously as to retake the queen, in spite of the deuce, and restores her to her family and friends.

  In the dialogue of "Alcestis" we have such quips as these:--

  E'en like a detonator down he goes To pay the _debt o' natur_ which he owes.

  To curb my rising love I idly tries, I _eyes the idol_ that I _idolise_!

  I may be captivating; but Death, stronger, Will not be _kept-a-vaiting_ any longer.

  I'd no time to aggravate Mamma, Or make my _Pa_ my _foe_ by a _faux pas_!

  In one place Alcestis, apropos of the marriage which is being forcedupon her, cries bitterly:--

  Why was I ever _saddled_ with this _bridal_?

  Phaedra sings a parody on "I'm afloat, I'm afloat!":--

  I'm a flirt, I'm a flirt, yet on thirty's bright side, And numbers have offer'd to make me their bride; Yet, though suitors don't flag in attention to me, I'm a flirt, I'm a flirt, and my hand is yet free!

  In 1851 came "Thetis and Peleus," in which Talfourd had a collaborator.In 1857 he produced, at the Haymarket, "Atalanta, or the Three GoldenApples," inserting in the "bill" a comic note to the effect that "Lesthe should be accused of murdering a good subject, the Author begs tostate that it was FOUN' DED from unknown causes many years ago." MissOliver was the Atalanta, and Miss Wilton the Cupid. Among the othercharacters is Mississarris, Atalanta's duenna, "the Guard of the OldGreek Stage, with, in this instance, an eye to the Males, subsequentlyattached to the old Coach, Paidagogos," played by Compton. One ofthe cleverest scenes in the piece is designed and written in parodyof the balcony scene in "Romeo and Juliet." Hippomenes, the hero, isseen climbing "over the garden wall," guitar in hand. Descending, hesoliloquises:--

  He jests at scars who ne'er in climbing hit upon A place with spikes and broken glass to sit upon. But soft, a light!--where lights are there's a liver. 'Tis she! I'll try a gentle hint to give her Upon my mandoline, though I'm afraid I'm somewhat too hoarse for a serenade. This night air is too musical by far, And on my chest has struck a light _catarrh_.... Ah, see! The window opens--it is she, More fair than ever in her _robe de nuit_.

  (_Atalanta appears on balcony above._)

  She speaks--yet nothing says! She's not to blame, Members of Parliament do much the same. Her mouth rests on her hand--I'm not above Wishing I were upon that hand a glove. Gladly the storms of Poverty I'd weather, So we might live from hand to mouth together!

  Elsewhere Hippomenes delivers himself of a superexcellent pun. Some onesays to him, referring to his studies,--"But think of your degree"; towhich he replies:--

  I do--and see 'Tis a _degree_ too _far-in-height_ for me.

  After "Atalanta"[11] came Talfourd's "Pluto and Proserpine, or theBelle and the Pomegranate," played at the Haymarket in 1858, and his"Electra in an Electric Light," performed at the Haymarket the yearfollowing. In "Pluto and Proserpine," as in his other pieces, theoriginal myth is followed closely. One passage supplies a happy parodyof the famous "palace-lifting-to-eternal-summer" speech in "The Lady ofLyons." Pluto has appeared to Proserpine as a young man, and has laidsiege to her heart in proper form. He is careful not to disclose hisidentity. At last Proserpine says:--

  [11] Of recent years Atalanta has been made the heroine of a burlesque by Mr. G. P. Hawtrey. Of this I give some account in my final chapter on "The New Burlesque."

  But I must know at least, sir, where you lodge.

  _Pluto_ (_aside_). I'll try the popular Claude Melnotte dodge.

  (_Walks her across the stage, as Claude does Pauline._)

  If, therefore, dearest, you would have me paint My residence exactly (_aside_) as it ain't, (_Aloud_) I would entreat you, Proserpine, to come where A palace lifting to eternal--somewhere-- Its marble halls invites us.

  _Proserp._ By-the-bye, Where is this place?

  _Pluto_ (_embarrassed_). In the Isle of Skye. Thy days all cloudless sunshine shall remain, For on our pleasure we will ne'er draw _rein_; At noon we'd sit beneath the vine-arched bowers, And, losing all our calculating powers, Think days but minutes--reckoning time by _ours_; Darkness shall be at once with light replaced, When my hand lights on that light taper waist; Our friends shall all true constant lovers be (So we should not be bored with company); Love's Entertainments only would we seek, And, sending up to Mudie's once a week, No tales that were not Lover's we'd bespeak, No sentiments in which we were not sharers (Think what a lot of rubbish that would spare us).... Dost like the picture, love, or are you bored?

  _Proserp._ Beautiful!

  _Pluto_ (_aside_). 'Tis a copy after _Claude_.

  "Pluto and Proserpine" has the usual supply of puns, as in thefollowing couplet:--

  _Diana._ You never weigh a wor
d, dear, you're so wild.

  _Proserp._ You used to call me such a _wayward_ child.

  But Talfourd, like Planche, could rise above mere _jeux d'esprit_, andfurnish, when necessary, bits of persiflage which deserve to linger inthe memory. Thus, in one of the scenes, Pluto addresses Cerberus in afashion intended to suggest Launce's colloquy with his dog in "The TwoGentlemen of Verona":--

  You've yet to learn the notions of propriety, Observed by dogs in upper-air society; So I'll exhibit in a bird's eye view Th' ordeal well-bred puppies must go through. Your thoughts you show too openly--on earth They oft are saddest who display most mirth; You must by no means growl to mark resentment, Or wag your tail in token of contentment; When most you're doing wrong, be most polite, And ne'er your teeth show _less_ than when you bite, So may you still enjoy, when youth is past, The sunshine of your dog-days to the last.

  I have already referred to three classical burlesques by H. J. Byron. Afourth exists in the "original classical pastoral" called "Pan," whichfirst saw the light at the Adelphi in 1865. Pan, it may be recorded,was impersonated by Mr. J. L. Toole. He had a good deal to say, andmuch of it was in the form of _jeux de mots_. Take, for example, thepassage in which Pan discovers that Syrinx, whom he loves, is in lovewith Narcissus. He calls down thunder from the skies; and then followsthis tirade:--

  _Narcissus._ What means this sudden dreadful change, I wonder?

  _Pan._ It means, great Pan is outraged!

  _Omnes._ Pan!

  _Pan._ Ah, Pan!

  Beware his hate and jealousy, young man. Blight shall o'erwhelm ye! See, your native corn Turns into ashes with my withering scorn. Your wheat shall shrink and shrivel, every sheaf; Your cattle swell the _cattle_logue of grief; With murrain all your sheep rot in their pens, The pip shall finish all your cocks and hens; Dry rot shall spoil your flails, your ploughs, and harrows, Break up your waggons; even your _wheel_-barrows Shall come to _woe_. Your land shall grow so hard, in vain you tills. Like lazy volunteers, with weakish wills, It will object to being _bored_ by _drills_. Your turnip-tops shan't spring up from the roots, Your rye shall grow awry, your corn shan't shoot, Your peas, towards which the Arcadian feeder leans, Become things of the _past_, and all turn _beans_, Ha, ha! the prospect cuts you to the core, Probes, punctures, penetrates.--Pour, torrents, pour! Descend, ye hailstones, bumpers, thumpers, fizzers; It cuts you like a _knife_, doesn't it, Nar-_scissors_?

  This is a very fair specimen of Byron's rather careless method; andanother is at hand in the following lines, which are spoken after theCarian captain has shown to Pan a jar of wine:--

  _Captain._ That's wine.

  _Pan._ What's wine?

  _Captain._ A fluid very rare; It's unknown here; we bring it from afar; Don't speak a word of thanks--there, hold your _jar_....

  _Pan._ The jar's a most uncommon sort of shape, (_Smells it_) Oh, oh! may I be shot if it ain't grape!

  [_Tastes it, and smacks his lips._

  Gollopshus! (_drinks_). More gollopshus than the first! It quenches, yet somehow increases, thirst. (_Drinks_) Talk about nectar. These celestial fellers Have no such drink as this stuff in their cellars. I must bid Ganymede to earth to fly-- Ganymede, brin-_g an immed_-iate supply.

  [_Drinks, and becomes gradually elevated--hiccups._

  Nectar celestial drink's supposed to be; It's called divine--this is _de vine_ for me! (_Sings_) We'll drown it in the bowl! (_Staggers_) I see two bottles! I only wish I'd got a pair of throttles! My, everything's in two! As for that there tree, It was a single tree, it's now a _pair_ tree. That bay I thought Arcadian--but, I say, It seems to me, my friend, you're _Dublin_ bay. Fact, 'tis a pair of bays. The earth seems reeling, While this is still so gently o'er me stealing.

  To the burlesques by William Brough already mentioned may be added"Endymion, or the Naughty Boy who cried for the Moon" (St. James's,1860), and "Pygmalion, or the Statue Fair" (Strand, 1867). Theformer,[12] of course, has to do with the fabled fondness of Diana forEndymion, and _vice versa_. The goddess sees the youth lying asleepupon Mount Latmos, and, descending, kisses him:-

  [12] Miss Herbert was Diana, and Miss Kate Terry one of the nymphs attending on her. Charles Young was Actaeon; Belmore, Pan.

  Strange weakness--thus my beams so bright to dim! I should _be more_ myself--not _beam o'er_ him. The gods all mock my silvery splendour paling; Not silvery, but irony, _their_ railing. Paling and railing!--what dread fears that calls up, Their _bitter raillery_ suggesting _All's up_!

  Before Endymion has seen Diana, he is asked by Actaeon whether he is inlove; to which he replies:-

  Oh, no! We men of fashion Have long ago forsworn the tender passion. We can't afford it.

  _Actae._ Why not?

  _Endym._ Well, a wife May suit folks in the lower walks of life; But in our station, what girls seek in marriage Is not a _walk_ in life;--they want a carriage. Then, what with dress and crinoline extensive, The sex which should be _dear_ becomes _expensive_. Once hearts were trumps;--that suit no more we follow; Since a good suit of diamonds beats them hollow.

  Here he drops into a parody of "Our Hearts are not our Own to Give":--

  Our hearts we've not alone to give, When we to wed incline; In lowly cots on love to live, In poetry sounds fine.

  But folks to live on love have ceased; Our hearts when we'd bestow, Some hundreds sterling, at the least, Should with the fond hearts go.

  When, again, Actaeon asks Endymion whether he ever shoots, he replies,"No, I don't care about it":--

  _Actae._ Not care for shooting, man? What's life without it? All nature shoots. Say, what's the earliest thing Boys learn at school? Why, shooting in the ring. The seed you sow must shoot before it grows; We feel the very corns shoot on our toes. We shoot our bolts, our game, our foes--what not? We're told where even rubbish may be shot. The stars shoot in the sky--nay, I've heard say, Folks sometimes shoot the moon on quarter-day.

  Among the _personae_ in the piece is Pan, whom we find addressing thefauns in this punning style:--

  Oh long-ear'd, but short-sighted fauns, desist; To the great Pan, ye little pitchers, list; Pan knows a thing or two. In point of fact, He's a deep Pan--and anything but cracked. A perfect oracle Pan deems himself; he Is earthenwarish--so, of course, is _delfy_. Trust, then, to Pan your troubles to remove; A warming-Pan he'll to your courage prove. A prophet, he foresees the ills you'd fear; So for them all you have your _Pan-a-seer_.

  In "Pygmalion"[13] we are asked to suppose that Venus is indignant withthe sculptor for his lack of susceptibility to female charms. Cupidtherefore undertakes to punish him by making him fall in love with hisnew statue, Galatea. To this statue Venus, at Pygmalion's request,gives life; but she withholds the power of loving. Galatea, therefore,is for ever slighting the sculptor's affection. Here is the opening oftheir first interview, which the curious may compare with the similarsituation in Mr. Gilbert's "Pygmalion and Galatea:"--

  [13] Miss Raynham was the hero; Mr. David James, his apprentice Cambyses; Mr. Thomas Thorne, the Princess Mandane; Miss Ada Swanborough, Venus; Miss Elsie Holt, Cupid; and Miss Eliza Johnstone, Mopsa.

  _Pygmal._ My beautiful--my own! (_embracing her_).

  _Statue._ Oh! don't, sir, please; I'm sure I'm much too soft to stand a squeeze.

  _Pygmal._ Too soft! What mean you?

  _Statue._ Nay, I hardly know. I was so firm and hard an hour ago; Suddenly I grew soft----

  _Pygmal._ Nay, speak no farder. You're getting softer but renews my (h)_ardour_; Unrivalled maid!

&n
bsp; _Statue._ You rivals talk about, Who've done your best yourself to cut me out; With chisel--mallet--sir, 'tis my conviction, Your mallet ought to have my _mallet_-diction.

  _Pygmal._ Your sculptor, _amorous_, implores you madly.

  _Statue._ Yes! sculptors (h)_ammer-us_ poor statues sadly; Yet I ne'er felt it till an hour ago; I _stood, heigho!_ there in your _stud-i-o_, Within a niche!

  _Pygmal._ Speak on, oh form bewitching!

  _Statue._ Standing the _niche-in_, straight I felt _an itching_; Throughout my frame a feeling seemed to tingle, Bade me go forth with human kind to mingle.

  _Pygmal._ Oh, joy! 'twas life! and life you must go through with me.

  _Statue._ Well, having made me, what d'ye mean to do with me? Of course I can't _disparage_ what you've done; But say, can I _dis parish_ claim upon? Or must I trust of casual wards the mercy? Have I a settlement, or _vice versy?_

  _Pygmal._ Come to my arms!

  _Statue._ Nay, as the matter stands, It's not your arms--I'm left upon your hands. What's to be done with me? I never sought Into a human figure to be wrought. You're great at figures; I, a wretched sad stone, Know nought of figures--I'm far from a Glad-stone!

  In the end, Psyche infuses soul into Galatea, and she and the sculptorunderstand each other.

  In 1883 Mr. H. P. Stephens submitted to Gaiety audiences a one-actpiece which he called "Galatea, or Pygmalion Re-versed." In thisGalatea was the sculptor, and Pygmalion the statue; and with MissFarren as the former, and Mr. Edward Terry as the latter, the resultwas eminently laughable. Cynisca, by the way, was turned into a man(Cyniscos), and was played by Elton.

  Two mythological burlesques stand to the credit of Gilbert Abbotta'Beckett--"The Son of the Sun, or the Fate of Phaeton," played at theFitzroy Theatre so long ago as 1834; and "The Three Graces," a two-actpiece, seen at the Princess's in 1843, with Oxberry, Wright, andPaul Bedford in the cast. Both of these travesties are very smoothlyand gracefully written, with fewer puns than the author afterwardspermitted himself. "The Three Graces," moreover, is not very prolificin contemporary allusion; though here and there, as in the followingpassage, between the heroines--Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne--there issome gentle satire:--

  _Agl._ Euphrosyne, we shall be miss'd by Venus.

  _Eup._ With her we easily can make our peace, If something, her attractions to increase, We take from earth.

  _Agl._ Why, yes, that's very true, If we could only meet with something new.

  _Eup._ That mixture for the hair, what is it call'd? It's advertised as "solace for the bald."

  _Agl._ I'll take her some of that.

  _Eup._ Or what's that's stuff-- For which, I saw the other day a puff? Something to be upon the features sprinkled, And offering "Consolation to the wrinkled."

  _Tha._ Venus don't want such aids.

  _Eup._ That's very true; Want them, indeed! the ladies never do; But when such little purchases are made, Of course 'tis only to encourage trade.

  _Agl._ They've got on earth a very odd idea Of what the Graces really are, I fear.

  _Eup._ They have indeed: I chanced one day to go Into a first-rate milliner's _depot_, That is _par excellence_--the first of places To meet with earthly notions of the Graces.

  _Agl._ That's very true--and there what did you see?

  _Eup._ Things unbecoming either of us three.

  _Agl._ What wear they on their heads? I think I've known Mortals who've dress'd them something like our own.

  _Eup._ Bonnets they lately wore, but oh, so small, They nearly dwindled into none at all.

  In "The Son of the Sun" there is an episode which helps to illustratethe condition of the drama in London at that period (1834). Apollo isquestioning the Muses who have just returned from London to Olympus:--

  _Apol._ Euterpe, Music's Muse, I understand That you had lodgings somewhere in the Strand.

  _Eut._ Oh! the Lyceum! Yes; I had a bout of it For a short time, until they burnt me out of it.

  _Apol._ Melpomene, Thalia,--still remain Your temples, I suppose, near Drury Lane?

  _Thal._ Our temples! Yes; as usual they stand, Extensively superb, and coldly grand. But, oh! the worship's wholly chang'd! Ah me! it is A cruel thing--they've turn'd out us poor deities.

  F. C. BURNAND.]

  My friend Melpomene's dagger, and her bowl, Are in the clutches of a noisy soul With Madame Melodrama for her name.

  _Apol._ That's downright usurpation.

  _All._ Shame! oh, shame!

  _Thal._ And as for me, my place--a pretty pass!-- Is taken by a vulgar thing, called Farce.

  _Apol._ But where is Shakspeare?

  _Thal._ Bless me, don't you know? Shakspeare is trampled on.

  _Apol._ By whom?

  _Thal._ Ducrow.

  Mr. Burnand has written more "classical" burlesques than any man livingor dead. A university man, like Talfourd, he has displayed completemastery of mythologic themes, submitting them to ingenious perversion,and adorning them with a wealth of pun and parody of which it isimpossible, in these brief limits, to give more than a few samples. Hehas shown special interest in the legends connected with the siege ofTroy,[14] producing three burlesques more or less connected with thatevent. First, in 1860, came "Dido," at the St. James's, with CharlesYoung as the heroine; next, in 1866, "Paris, or Vive Lempriere," atthe Strand;[15] next, in 1867, "The Latest Edition of Helen, or Takenfrom the Greek," at Liverpool.[16] Helen of Troy, I may note, _enparenthese_, had been the heroine of two other travesties: one byVincent Amcotts--"Fair Helen" (Oxford, 1862); the other by Mr. RobertReece--"Our Helen" (Gaiety, 1884).

  [14] "The Siege of Troy," by the way, was the title and subject of a burlesque by Robert Brough (Lyceum, 1858).

  [15] Paris, Miss Raynham; OEnone, Mr. Thomas Thorne; Castor, Mr. David James; Orion, J. D. Stoyle; Venus, Miss A. Swanborough; Juno, Maria Simpson; Jupiter, Miss Eliza Johnstone.

  [16] Paris, Miss Raynham; Helen, Miss Furtado. "Helen" is described by the writer as a "companion picture to 'Paris,'"

  In "Dido," Mr. Burnand's genius for word-play is agreeably manifested.I take some lines at random:--

  "AEneas, son of Venus, sails the sea, Mighty and _high_."

  "As _Venus' son_ should be."

  On the sea-shore, dear, I've just come from walking, Studying my fav'rite poets. Need I tell ye The works I read were those of _Crabbe_ and _Shelley_?

  It is the Queen--of life she seems aweary; And mad as _Lear_, looking just as _leary_. A riddle strikes me: "Why's she thus behaving, Just like a bird of night?" "'Cos she's a _raving_."

  Mad as a March hare. It is the fate Of _hares_ to be then in a _rabid_ state.

  "I ne'er shall move as heretofore so gaily, I feel quite ill and dizzy."

  "_Dizzy? Raly?_"

  AEneas comes on first as a begging sailor, with "I'm starving" inscribedon a paper suspended from his neck. He strikes up a song, but soonstops it:--

  What? no one here? Thy singing vain appears. Land may have _necks_ and _tongues_--it has no _ears_. None to be done, and nothing here to do.

  [_Takes off begging paper_.]

  "I'm starving." Ah, it happens to be true! On air I cannot feed, howe'er one stuffs, Not even when it comes to me in _puffs_. I wonder what's become of our small party, Who, yesterday, were sailing well and hearty? I saw our shipwrecked crew sink in the _bay_; 'Twould be a subject fit for _Frith_, R.A. And if the shore last night they failed in gaining, I am the only _Landseer_ no
w remaining. Being no gambler, I'll ne'er trust again My fortunes to the chances of the _main_.

  In 1863 Mr. Burnand brought out, at the Royalty, "Ixion, or the Man atthe Wheel,"[17] which proved to be one of the happiest of his efforts.This he followed up, at the same theatre, two years later, with"Pirithous," in which the adventures of Ixion's son were as humorouslydepicted. In the interval he had produced at the Olympic "Cupid andPsyche" (December, 1864), a burlesque on an ever-popular subject. Yearsbefore--so early as 1837--a piece called "Cupid," written by JosephGraves, had been represented at the Queen's and Strand, with Wild andMiss Malcolm at the one house and Hammond and Miss Daly at the otheras the God of Love and his beloved. In "Cupid," however, there waslittle verbal wit. The god figured as a gay deceiver, who had promisedmarriage to Psyche, but had refused to "implement" the undertaking.Whereupon Jupiter decides that Cupid shall be shot dead by Psyche; butshe, using the god's own arrows, does but transfix him with the loveshe yearns for. Cupid sings, early in the piece, a parody of "The Sea!the Sea!" beginning--

  [17] See p. 40. Eleven years later, Mr. Burnand wrote for the Opera Comique his "Ixion Re-Wheeled," the cast of which included, beside Miss Laverne, Miss Amy Sheridan and Miss Eleanor Bufton.

  Psyche! Psyche! my own Psyche, The pretty, fair, and ever free!--

  But, otherwise, Graves's "book" is not particularly brilliant, Thoughsmoothly written and fairly brisk in action.

  In "Cupid and Psyche" Mr. Burnand made Psyche the daughter of a king,who, because she will not marry and thus relieve him of the anxietycaused by a certain Prophecy, chains her to a rock on the sea-shore.To this he is incited by Venus, who regards Psyche as her rival inbeauty. Psyche is duly rescued and espoused by Cupid, who (as in theold myth) remains invisible to her until her curiosity gets the betterof her prudence; and, in the end, Venus abates her enmity, and theunion of the pair is duly recognised. In one place, Psyche, entering,distractedly, in search of Cupid, cries:--

  A river! I debate with myself wedder I'll end my _tale_ with a sensation _header_ From a small boat. It could not clear the reeds; One cannot make a_n oar way_ through these _s_(_weeds_). Why should I live? Alas, from me forlorn Each lad turns on his _heel_ to show his (s)_corn_! The county lads to me make no advances; The county girls avert their _county-nances_. Counties! (_struck with an idea_) I'll drown myself,-- Down hesitation! Nor men, _nor folk_, shall stop my _suffoc_-ation!

  Elsewhere Mars says to Cupid:--

  Stop, you ill-bred little pup! Is this the way an 'Arrow boy's brought up? Your conduct would disgrace the lowest Cretan.

  _Bacchus._ "An 'Arrow boy!"--egad, that joke's a n_eat 'un_.

  At another point Cupid himself says that

  A _yawn_, however gentle, Is to the face not ver_y orn_amental.

  At the very end of the piece, there is a skilful bit of rhyming. Psyche"comes down" and says:--

  Now, stupid-- Why don't you speak the tag and finish, Cupid?

  _Cupid._ Because I'm in a fix, my charming friend.

  _Psyche._ How so?

  _Cupid._ The piece with your name ought to end; And, though I should give all my mind and time to it, I know that I shan't get a word to rhyme to it.

  _King_ (_cleverly_). There's Bikey.

  _Bacchus_ (_as if he'd hit it--rather_). Dikey!

  _Zephyr_ (_suggestively_). Fikey!

  _Venus_ (_authoritatively_). Likey!

  _Cupid_ (_who has shaken his head at each suggestion_). Pooh!

  _Chrysalis._ Oh! (_every one interested, as if she'd got it now_) Crikey! (_every one disgusted_).

  _Psyche._ Ma'am, that's vulgar, and won't do.

  _Grubbe_ (_calmly and complacently_). Ikey!

  _Cupid._ Absurd. I yield it in despair.

  Come--the finale; I'll commence the air (_sings two very high notes_--_all shake their heads_).

  _Mars._ Oh no! we cannot sing in such a high key.

  _Cupid_ (_joyfully to Psyche, catching the rhyme at once_). That's it. (_takes her hand--to audience_). Pray smile on Cupid.

  _Psyche._ And on Psyche.

  Among other "classical" burlesques may be mentioned Mr. Burnand's"Arion," seen at the Strand in 1871, with Mr. Edward Terry, Mr. HarryPaulton, and Miss Augusta Thomson; and H. B. Farnie's "Vesta," producedat the St. James's in the same year, with Mr. John Wood and Mr. LionelBrough. Mr. Burnand's "Sappho" (1866), and "Olympic Games" (1867), alsocall for mention. John Brougham's "Life in the Clouds" belongs to 1840;Tom Taylor's "Diogenes and his Lantern" to 1849; the Brothers Brough's"Sphinx" to the same year; William Brough's "Hercules and Omphale" to1864; and Mr. Reece's "Agamemnon and Cassandra, or The Prophet and Lossof Troy," to 1868.