Chapter VI: Preface (6)

Kind friends in front, you here behold a figure allegorical:
Excuse me if at times I pause and for my paregoric call.
I want to tell you all about this story Anglo-Corsican,
And do the best in spite of cough and voice that's rather hoarse I can.
Old Father Time I am, you guess; 't is I who rule the universe,
And cause the changes which I sing in this the poet's punny verse!
So while the scene is changing, here I sing this song preparative,
To help you, as a chorus should, to understand the narrative.
Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho!
As chorus to this tragedy, to act my painful doom it is.
In spite of cough, sciatica, lumbago, and the rheumatiz.

The little boys who in the wood the robins saved from perishing
Are two young men for one young girl a hopeless passion cherishing.
In Corsica with his mamma young Fabien dei Franchi is;
The other one in Paris lives, and growing rather cranky is.

Sweet Rosie Posie followed them. The ma of these phenomena
As lady-help accepted her for foiling the abomina-Ble
plans the wicked uncle laid the brothers to assassinate,
And Rosie still in Corsica contrives all hearts to fascinate.

To Paris went the uncle, too, to let coiffeurs their talent try,
And now he is an agèd buck and famous for his gallantry.
He's bought a wig, and paints his face--three times a day he'll
carmine it,
He asks young wives to opera balls, and swears there's little harm
in it.

In the second act Meynard brings a friend with him to Corsica, and thus presents him to Mme. dei Franchi:--

A friend of mine who's come this trip with me,
The customs of the country for to see.
The customs, when he landed, landed him--
He's _cust 'em_ rather, I can tell you, mim!

_Friend._ 'Tain't pleasant when a chap on pleasure's bent
To find the call of duty cent. per cent.

_Mad._ You're welcome, sir, although our customs seize you:
A triple welcome, and I hope the _trip'll_ please you.

Previous to the first entry of Louis' ghost, Fabien says:--

I feel so strange, I know poor Loo is seedy;
I dreamt I saw his ghost all pale and bleedy.
I'll write him. Where's the ink? Lor, how I shudder!
(_Looks about for ink_) I'm on the ink-quest now--poor absent brudder.
The ink!--the quill! Ah! this, I think, will do.
(_Sits and writes_) "Louis, old cock, how wags the world with you?"
(_Music--he shudders_) I feel as if a ghost were at my elbow handy.
This _goes to_ prove I want a drop of brandy.

Of the other puns in the piece the following are perhaps fair specimens. At the _bal masqué_, Louis, meeting Emilie de Lesparre, says:--

Why are you here?

_Emilie._ I came because I'm asked (_puts on mask_).

_Louis._ This is no place for you to cut a shine;
'Tain't _womanly_.

_Emilie._ I know it's masky-line.

Again:--

_Louis._ My dagger awaits you--for your blood I faint!

_Renaud._ Your dagger awaits--you'_d aggerawate_ a saint.

In the final tableau, Chateau Renaud is advised to take some brandy; but he asks instead for "a go of gin--I want the _gin-go_ spirit."

The latest of the burlesques on this subject was supplied--also for the Royalty--by Mr. Cecil Raleigh, whose "New Corsican Brothers" played in 1889, had more than one whimsical feature to recommend it. One of the brothers (Mr. Arthur Roberts) was supposed to be an English linen-draper, who, whenever anything was happening to the other brother, had a wild desire to measure out tape--and so on. The dialogue was in prose.

"Belphegor," the generic name bestowed upon the numerous adaptations of "Paillasse," gave birth to at least one travestie of importance--that by Leicester Buckingham, which saw the light at the Strand in 1856, the year in which Charles Dillon played in one of the adaptations (at the Lyceum). "The Duke's Motto," in which Fechter "starred" at the same theatre, was the origin of H. J. Byron's "The Motto: I am 'All There'"--a piece seen at the Strand in 1863, with Miss Maria Simpson as the Duke Gonzaque, George Honey as Lagardère, and Ada Swanborough and Fanny Josephs as Blanche and Pepita. Among much which is mere punning, though deter enough for that commodity, I find this little bit of social satire:--

Receipt to make a party:--First of all,
Procure some rooms, and mind to have 'em small;

Select a good warm night, so draughts may chill 'em;
Ask twice as many as it takes to fill 'em;
For though the half you ask may not attend,
The half that comes is sure to bring a friend;
Select a strong pianist, and a gent
Who through the cornet gives his feelings vent;
Give them some biscuits, and some nice Marsala;
Make a refreshment-room of the front parlour;
Garnish with waltzes, flirtings, polking, ballads,
Tongue, fowl, and sandwiches, limp lobster salads,
Smiles, shaking hands, smirks, simpers, and what not;
Throw in the greengrocer, and serve up hot.

It is to H. J. Byron that we owe the burlesque of "Robert Macaire," which, with Fanny Josephs and J. Clarke as Macaire and Strop, brightened the boards of the Globe Theatre in 1870. The drama of which Ruy Blas is the central figure has been twice travestied among us--once in 1873 by Mr. Reece ("Ruy Blas Righted," at the Vaudeville), and more recently (in 1889) by Messrs. F. Leslie and H. Clark ("Ruy Blas, or the Blasé Roué," at the Gaiety). "Diplomacy," adapted from "Dora," appealed to Mr. Burnand's sense of the ridiculous, and the result was "Dora and Diplunacy" (Strand, 1878), in which the weak spots of the original were divertingly laid bare. In the same year, Mr. Burnand burlesqued, at the Royalty, his own adaptation, "Proof, or a Celebrated Case," under the title of "Over-Proof, or What was Found in a Celebrated Case." To 1879 belong two clever travesties--"Another Drink," by Messrs. Savile Clarke and Clifton (Lyne), suggested by "Drink," and brought out at the Folly; and "Under-Proof," Mr. Edward Rose's _reductio ad absurdum_ of "Proof." In the latter piece, besides many well-constructed puns, there are many pleasant turns of humour, as when Pierre satirises the conventional stage pronunciation of his name:--

In my native land, as you're aware,
My Christian name's pronounced like this--Pi-erre,
But here I'm made a nobleman of France,
For everybody calls me _Peer_ Lorance.

Of the Anglo-French melodrama of recent years, Mr. Burnand has been the frequent and successful satirist. He capped "Fedora" with "Stage-Dora" (Toole's, 1883), "Theodora" with "The O'Dora" (same theatre, 1885), and "La Tosca" with "Tra la la Tosca" (Royalty, 1890). This last contained some of the happiest of its author's efforts, in the way both of ingenious punning and effective rhyming. Here, for example, is a song put into the mouth of the Baron Scarpia, the "villain" both of the play and of the travestie:--

I am the bad Baron Scarpia!
You know it at once, and how sharp y'are.
Than a harpy I am much harpier--
How harpy I must be!
There never was blackguard or scamp
To me could hold candle or lamp.
I'm equal to twenty-five cargoes
Of Richards, Macbeths, and Iagos!
For nobody ever so far goes
As Scarpia--meaning me.

I'm chief of the Italiani
Peelerini Me-tropoli-tani!
Around me they wheedle and carney--
They'd all curry favour, you see.
And, buzzing about me like flies,
Are myrmidons, creatures, and spies.

They're none of them mere lardy-dardy,
But cunning, unprincipled, hardy,
And come from Scotlandini Yardi,
La Forza Constabular_ee_.

During the present year, the interest gradually excited by successive performances of plays by Henrik Ibsen has culminated in the production of the inevitable burlesques. More than one clever travestie of Ibsen has been printed--_e.g._, those by Mr. J. P. Hurst and Mr. Wilton Jones; but the first to be performed was that entitled "Ibsen's Ghost, or Toole up to Date," which is from the witty pen of Mr. J. M. Barrie. This starts as a sort of sequel to "Hedda Gabler," which it mainly satirises; but there are allusions also to "Ghosts" and to "A Doll's House," with some general sarcasm at the expense of Ibsen's peculiarities. The dialogue is in prose, with a concluding vocal quartett; the writer's touch is as light as it is true; and the composition, as a whole, is thoroughly exhilarating. The three-act piece, "The Gifted Lady," in which Mr. Robert Buchanan sought to ridicule not only Ibsen but other "emancipating" agencies of the time, was, unfortunately, not so successful as Mr. Barrie's slighter and brighter work. It abounded in excellent epigram, but lacked geniality and humour. In "Ibsen's Ghost" Mr. Toole and Miss Eliza Johnstone renewed old successes, while Miss Irene Vanbrugh gave signs of aptitude for burlesque. In "The Gifted Lady" Miss Fanny Brough, Miss Cicely Richards, Mr. W. H. Vernon, and Mr. Harry Paulton showed all their usual skill, but, unfortunately, to no purpose.

VIII.

BURLESQUE OF OPERA.

We have already seen that, in burlesquing mythology, faërie, and other matters, our comic playwrights have not been able to resist the temptation to introduce occasional travesties of things operatic. Opera, indeed, has always had a magnetic power over them. They have been unable to maintain their gravity in presence of the singularities which distinguish opera, even in its most modern guise, from the more natural and realistic drama. Operatic conditions demand, of necessity, certain stereotyped regulations, especially of stage management, which detract from probability and excite derision. Especially is this so in the case of the older school of Opera, and notably in that of the Italian school, whose products were largely on the same simple and ingenuous model--a model on which the travestie writers were able to construct some genuinely entertaining imitations.

Beginning, then, with the Italian school, we note that Donizetti has been particularly favoured by the parodists. His "Lucrezia Borgia," "Linda di Chamouni," "Elisir d' Amore," and "Fille du Régiment" have all had to submit to deliberate perversion. Of "Lucrezia" there have been three notable burlesques--one by Leicester Buckingham, at the St. James's, in 1860; another by Sydney French, at the Marylebone, in 1867; and the third by H. J. Byron, at the Holborn, in 1868. Buckingham's was entitled "Lucrezia Borgia! at Home, and all Abroad," and had Charles Young for the exponent of the title character. Miss Wyndham was Johnny Raw ("known as Gennaro, through the defective pronunciation of his Italian friends--a British shopkeeper, who has left for awhile the countertenor of his way, and is travelling on the Continent for his pleasure"). Miss Cecilia Ranoe was Alfonso, and a small part was played by Miss Nellie Moore. Lucrezia figures in this piece as a dabbler in monetary speculations, the failure of which gives opportunity for a speech parodying some Shakespearean lines with more freshness than such things usually possess:--

Oh! that dishonoured notes of hand would melt,
Thaw, and dissolve themselves when overdue,
And never leave the holder time to sue;
Or that in pickle no such sharp rod lay
As the unpleasant writ called a _ca sa_!
How weary, flat, unprofitable, stale,
To kick one's heels inside a debtor's gaol!
Fie on't! 'Tis an unweeded garden clearly;
Blackguards and seedy swells possess it merely.
That it should come to this! At two months' date!--
No, not two months; six weeks is less than eight.
So excellent a bill! The blow will floor me!
Is this a bailiff that I see before me,
A capias in his hand? Come, let me dodge thee;
Or in a sponging-house I know thou'lt lodge me.
I've turned my back, and yet I see thee still!
Canst thou then be two gentlemen at will?
Or art thou but a grim dissolving view--
A phantom officer--in short, a _do_?
I see thee yet--so palpable in form,
My prospects seem uncomfortably warm.
Thou marshall'st me to Whitecross Street, I see,
Clutching protested bills endorsed by me;
Indictments, too, for fraud and false pretences!
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else I'm tight! I see thee still, my man;
And by thy side appears the prison van,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing!

In the course of the piece, Johnny Raw is poisoned by Alfonso with publican's port, and afterwards Lucrezia seeks to destroy Orsini and his companion with London milk. Byron's burlesque on the subject was called "Lucrezia Borgia, M.D."

"Linda di Chamouni" exercised the wit both of Mr. Conway Edwardes and of Mr. Alfred Thompson. The former writer's "Linda di Chamouni, or the Blighted Flower," was played at Bath in 1869; the latter's work was presented, later in the same year, at the Gaiety. In Mr. Edwardes' book one is most struck by the multiplicity and occasional felicity of the "word-plays." Here, for instance, is what Pierotto says when he is asked to take a cup of wine:--

Well, if you ask me _what_ I'll take, I think
Tea I prefer 'bove every other drink.
For when I'm teazed, vex'd, worried beyond measure,
A _cup_ of tea's to me a _source o'_ pleasure.
Whene'er I play, the game is _tea_-to-tum;
My fav'rite instrument's a "kettledrum."
I've faith, when suff'ring ills heir to humanity,
_In senna tea_ that you may say's _insanitee_.
And also p'rhaps a little odd 'twill seem here,
That I prefer the scenery of _Bohea_-mia.
And if I were engaged in deadly strife,
I'd stab my en'my with a _Bohea_ knife.

Two of Donizetti's operas--"L'Elisir d'Amore" and "La Fille du Régiment"--were travestied by Mr. W. S. Gilbert; the former under the title of "Doctor Dulcamara, or the Little Duck and the Great Quack," the latter under that of "La Vivandière, or True to the Corps." "Doctor Dulcamara" was played at the St. James's, with Frank Matthews in the title-part. "La Vivandière" (1868) was written for the Queen's Theatre, where it employed the talents of Miss Henrietta Hodson, Mr. Toole, Mr. Lionel Brough, Miss Everard (the original Little Buttercup), and Miss Fanny Addison.

Of Verdi's operas two have been singled out for special attention--"Il Trovatore" and "Ernani." The first of these suggested H. J. Byron's "Ill-Treated Trovatore," seen at the Adelphi in 1863, and another version by the same hand, played at the Olympic seventeen years after. Byron also wrote a travestie of "Ernani," which he called "Handsome Hernani" (Gaiety, 1879); but in this he had been anticipated by William Brough, whose work was seen at the Alexandra Theatre in 1865.

Three travesties have been founded on the "La Sonnambula" of Bellini. The first, which was played at the Victoria Theatre in 1835, was from the pen of Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett, and entitled "The Roof Scrambler"--a title explained in lines spoken by Rudolpho and Swelvino:--

_Rud._ I tell you, there are beings in their dreams
Who scramble 'pon the house-tops.

_Swel._ So it seems.

_Rud._ Roof-scramblers they are called; for on the roofs
They walk at night--Molly is one.

Molly is the name here given to Amina; Swelvino, of course, is Elvino. He is a sexton, and has plighted his troth to Lizzy; but before the piece opens, he has transferred his affections to Molly Brown, a charity girl--"a Greasy Roamer over the tops of houses." Swelvino and Molly are about to be married, when there arrives at the village Rodolpho, the new Inspector of Police, who introduces himself as follows:--

Ah, here I am again!--I know this scene,
In which, when I was young, so oft I've been.
I recognise each spot I see around,
The stocks know me, and well I know the pound!
The sight of these my eyes with tears is filling:
I knew that pound when I had not a shilling!

Molly, walking in her sleep, enters Rodolpho's apartment, and is found there by Swelvino, but is vindicated, like her prototype in the opera, by being subsequently discovered in a somnambulant condition. The story of "La Sonnambula" is, in fact, followed closely, but caricatured throughout. W. Rogers, who was the Swelvino, and Mitchell, who was the Molly, appear to have been highly successful in exciting the hilarity of their audiences. The latter portrayed the heroine as "a waddling, thick-set, red-and-ruddy, blowzy-faced goblin, with turn-up nose and carroty hair, wrapt in a pea-soup or camomile-tea-coloured negligée, and carrying," in the sleep-walking scene, "a farthing rushlight in one of Day & Martin's empty blacking-bottles." Of Swelvino's appearance we may judge from a remark made by Molly to her lover:--

I, by looking in your face, can tell
What are your feelings excellently well.
Oh, yes! the fulness of that ruby nose
Your love for me doth passing well disclose;
Your agitated whisker shows full well
What throbs of passion underneath it dwell!

The two other skits upon the opera were the work of H. J. Byron, who produced the first at the Prince of Wales's in 1865, under the title of "La! Sonnambula! or the Supper, the Sleeper, and the Merry Swiss Boy; being a passage in the life of a famous 'Woman in White': a passage leading to a tip-top story." Miss Marie Wilton was the Merry Swiss Boy (Alessio); Miss Fanny Josephs was Elvino; Mr. Dewar, Rodolpho; "Johnny" Clarke, Amina; Miss Bella Goodall, Lisa; Mr. Harry Cox undertaking the _rôle_ of "a virtuous peasant (by the kind permission of the Legitimate Drama)." This was Miss Wilton's first production at the Prince of Wales's, and it was a great success. In 1878 Byron brought out at the Gaiety a piece which he called "Il Sonnambulo, or Lively Little Alessio." In this he introduced several variations on the operatic story; making the Count (Edward Terry) the somnambulist, instead of Amina--in burlesque of Mr. Henry Neville's sleep-walking scene in Wilkie Collins's "Moonstone." Miss Farren was the lively little Alessio, and Mr. Royce the "local tenor," Elvino.

Of Bellini's "Norma" the first burlesque produced was that which W. H. Oxberry, the comedian, contributed to the Haymarket in 1841. In this the title-part was played by Paul Bedford, with Wright as Adalgisa and Mrs. H. P. Grattan as Pollio. The piece had no literary pretensions, and it would be unfair to compare it, in that or any other respect, with "The Pretty Druidess, or the Mother, the Maid, and the Mistletoe Bough," which Mr. W. S. Gilbert wrote for the Charing Cross Theatre (now Toole's) just twenty-eight years later. This was one of the best of Mr. Gilbert's operatic travesties, the dialogue being characterised by especial point and neatness. Here, for example, is the advice given by Norma (Miss Hughes) to the ladies presiding over the stalls at a fancy fair. Hamlet's address to the players is very happily suggested:--

With pretty speech accost both old and young,
And speak it trippingly upon the tongue;
But if you mouth it with a hoyden laugh,
With clumsy ogling and uncomely chaff--
As I have oft seen done at fancy fairs,
I had as lief a huckster sold my wares.
Avoid all so-called beautifying, dear.
Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear
The things that men among themselves will say
Of some _soi-disant_ "beauty of the day,"
Whose face, when with cosmetics she has cloyed it,
Out-Rachels Rachel!--pray you, girls, avoid it.
Neither be ye too tame--but, ere you go,
Provide yourselves with sprigs of mistletoe;
Offer them coyly to the Roman herd--
But don't you "suit the action to the word,"
For in the very torrent of your passion
Remember modesty is still in fashion.
Oh, there be ladies whom I've seen hold stalls--
Ladies of rank, my dear--to whom befalls
Neither the accent nor the gait of ladies;
So clumsily made up with Bloom of Cadiz,
Powder-rouge--lip-salve--that I've fancied then
They were the work of Nature's journeymen.

The "Gazza Ladra" of Rossini lives on the burlesque stage in the counterfeit presentment furnished by Byron's "Maid and the Magpie, or the Fatal Spoon." This was one of the writer's greatest triumphs in the field of travestie. Produced at the Strand in 1854, with Miss Oliver as Ninette, Miss Marie Wilton as Pippo, Bland as Fernando, and Clarke as Isaac (the old-clothes man), it at once hit the public taste, as it well deserved to do, for it is full of clever writing and ingenious incidents. The best scene of all, perhaps, is that in which the broken-down Fernando reveals himself to Ninette--a happy satire upon a familiar melodramatic situation:--

_Ninette_ (_entering_). A stranger here!

_Fernan._ How beautiful she's grown! I say, my dear!
(_she starts_) Start not--ha, ha!--do I alarm you?

_Ninette_ (_uneasily_). Rather!

_Fernan_ (_hesitatingly_). Why, miss, you see--the fact is--I'm
your father!

_Ninette._ Impossible! I never had one!

_Fernan._ Law!

_Ninette._ That is--I had none that I ever saw.

_Fernan._ Oh, why in battle did no friendly blow
Finish her luckless parent long ago?
(_in choked accents_) Doth not the voice of nature seem quite
clear--eh?

_Ninette._ The voice of nature seems a little beery.

_Fernan_ (_seizing her arm--music piano_). Look at me well!

(_Ninette appears gradually to recognise him._)

_Ninette._ Upon a close inspection,
I seem to have a dreamy recollection
Of having seen those eyes of yours somewhere,
Also that most extensive head of hair;
The accents of the voice, too, now I think,
Seem broken by emotion, not by drink;
Yes, it's all coming back to me, of course.

_Fernan._ Remember, dear, I bought you once a horse,
A wooden toy--remember, you had lots--
It ran on wheels--all mane and tail and spots--
Also a dog, a little dog, I vow,
Which, when you squeezed it, used to go Bow-wow!
Likewise a spade, which, on your nurse's head
You broke, and got well spanked and sent to bed----

_Ninette_ (_wildly_). A flood of memory rushes through my brain!

_Fernan_ (_excitedly_). Ninette, my daughter, look at me again.

_Ninette_ (_seizing his nose_). Yes, yes, that nose decides
me--yes--you are--

_Fernan._ At last--at last! he--he! she _knows_ her pa!

In a mock love-scene with Ninette, Gianetto (Miss Ternan) draws the following comic picture:--

Fancy a bower with rose and jasmine graced,
Such as we see in small tea-gardens placed;
Where friendly spiders and black-beetles drop
On to your bread and butter with a flop;
Where mouldy seats stain sarsnet, satin, silk,
And suicidal flies fall in the milk;
Where we can scorn the heartless world's attack,
Though daddy-longlegs may creep down your back;
Smile at society's contemptuous sneer,
Though caterpillars tumble in your beer;
Where chimneys never smoke, and soot don't fall,
Where income-tax collectors never call,
Where one's wife's mother never even once
Visits her darling daughter for six months;
Where bills, balls, banks, and bonnets are not known--
Come, dwell with me, my beautiful--my own.

Turning to the burlesques of opera of the German school, we begin, naturally, with Mozart, whose "Don Giovanni" found humorous reflection in two pieces, by H. J. Byron and Mr. Reece. The former's "Little Don Giovanni"[45] belongs to 1865, when it was performed at the Prince of Wales's, with Miss Wilton (Mrs. Bancroft) as the hero, Clarke as Leporello, Miss Fanny Josephs as Masetto, Mr. Hare as Zerlina (probably his only appearance on the stage in petticoats), Miss Sophie Larkin as Elvira, and Miss Hughes as Donna Anna. Don Giovanni was the last burlesque part written by Byron for Miss Wilton, and, moreover, it was the last burlesque part she ever played. She records in her Memoirs that an amusing feature of the piece was the spectacle presented in the last act by the Commandant's horse, which, in allusion to a recent freak in Leicester Square, had been covered with a variety of spots, and "looked like an exaggerated Lowther Arcade toy." Mr. Reece's burlesque was called "Don Giovanni in Venice," and came out at the Gaiety in 1873.

[45] Byron's "Don Juan," brought out at the Alhambra in 1873, was
about equally indebted for its plot to the libretto of Mozart's
opera and to Lord Byron's poem.

In 1842 Macready revived at Drury Lane Handel's delightful "Acis and Galatea," and the opera was promptly caricatured by W. H. Oxberry in a piece produced three days afterwards at the Adelphi. The travestie of "Acis and Galatea" which was seen at the Olympic in 1863 was from the pen of Mr. Burnand. Its full title was "Acis and Galatea, or the Nimble Nymph and the Terrible Troglodyte"; and the Nimble Nymph (described as "a Nymph of the Sea, who also visits the land--a nymphibious young lady") was played by Miss Hughes. The puns were prolific, and so were the parodies, the best of which are written in caricature of the absurd English translations in the operatic "books of the play." Here, for example, is a setting of the trio in "Trovatore"--"Il tuo sangue":--

_Polyphemus._ With you, oh, sanguine, I'd share your 'art, oh!
'Twould be a stinger, ho! if no go.
(_As to her_) Dear! (_as to himself_) Oh, folly! be calm, oh!
I'm misty!

(_Holding his hands over his bursting heart--operatically singing_).

Eh, pooh, we've here a lump, oh! (_alluding to his heart_).
No, eh, pooh, we've 'ere a
Lump, oh no.
Ah! de gal, oh, so de gal, oh, so coy, press 'art to (_enraptured_)
And it may then end in no go! (_with a tinge of sadness_).
And it may then end in no go!
I'm a gent, oh, over-misty (_with his hand to his heart_),
Cease of her to be fond, ah, no!
No! fond! ah! no!
Ah! etc.

_Phyllis._ {Come, ah! come, will you o-ver-awe, eh? (_fiercely_).
_Galatea._ {Come, ah! come, will you o-ver-awe me? (_distractedly_).

_Phyllis._ {You'll ar-ray, ah! wi' Pol trudge, oh![46] (_fiercely_).
_Galatea._ {You'll ar-ray, ah! wi' Pol trudge, oh! (_distractedly_).

_Phyllis._ {Veep! ye'll ne'er go to rest o' shore, eh! (_fiercely_).
_Galatea._ {Veep! we'll ne'er go to rest o' shore, eh?
(_distractedly_).

_Phyllis._ {Gay! tomb! ah! one full! no beau!
(_wildly and demoniacally_).
_Galatea._ {Gay! tomb! ah! one full! no beau!
(_wildly and distractedly_).

[46] This, says Mr. Burnand in a note, is the poetic for "You'll get on
your bonnet and accompany Polyphemus."

Six years after the production of Mr. Burnand's piece, Mr. T. F. Plowman brought out at Oxford "a piece of extravagance," to which he gave the name of "A Very New Edition of Acis and Galatea, or the Beau! the Belle! and the Blacksmith!"

Of Meyerbeer's operas three have been burlesqued in England--"Dinorah," "L'Africaine" and "Robert le Diable." The first of these was parodied in "Dinorah under Difficulties," a burlesque by William Brough, which dates back as far as 1859 (at the Adelphi). "L'Africaine" was handled by Mr. Burnand six years later at the Strand. Three years more, and "Robert le Diable" was being travestied at the Gaiety by Mr. Gilbert, under the title of "Robert the Devil, or the Nun, the Dun, and the Sun of a Gun."[47] This last is on the old lines of "palmy-day" burlesque, and has not much in it that is characteristically Gilbertian. The lyrics are written chiefly to operatic airs, and there is no room, therefore, for rhythmical invention. In the dialogue, however, one comes across an occasional passage which strikes one as quite Gilbertian in its cynicism. Take, for example, these lines from the scene in which fun is made of the Tussaud "Chamber of Horrors":--

[47] In this Miss Farren, as Robert, was supported by Miss Constance
Loseby as Raimbault, Miss Emily Fowler as Alice, Miss Annie Tremaine as
Prince of Granada, and Joseph Eldred as Gobetto.

_Bertram._ These are all statues, raised from time to time
To people who're remarkable for crime.

_Robert._ But if their wicked deeds could so unnerve one,
Why give them statues?

_Bert._ 'Cause they don't deserve one.
That's our strict rule--a rule we never garble--
Good deeds we write in sand, bad deeds in marble.

Some of the puns in the piece are worth recording. Thus, Alice says of a porter, to whom half a crown has been given:--

He'll spend it all upon his favourite wets--
He tipsy gets with all the _tips he gets_.

Again, Gobetto says of Robert:--

He's smoking to a pretty tune, I'll bet, oh!

_Prince._ That pretty tune must be "Il Cigaretto."

Gobetto says to Robert:--

We saw you through the window, pouring fizz in!

_Robert._ I liked the wines, but didn't like the _quizzin_.

Again:--

_Alice._ Why, Robert, how you've changed in speech and tone!
Your forehead, once so smooth, now bears a frown on it;
As for your mouth, 'tis evident you're down in it!

_Robert._ Yes, though I'm young, it's plain to all who con it,
Down _in_ the mouth before I've down _upon_ it!

Weber's "Der Freischutz" has been travestied both by Mr. Burnand and by H. J. Byron, both productions taking place in 1866, within two days of each other--the one at the Strand, and the other at the Prince of Wales's. Mr. Reece is responsible for a burlesque of Flotow's "Martha," performed at the Gaiety in 1873, with Miss Constance Loseby, Miss Rachel Sanger, Mr. Lionel Brough, and Mr. Aynsley Cook in the leading parts.

Wagnerian "music-drama" has more than once been desecrated on the burlesque stage. First of all there came, at the Royalty in 1869, the "Flying Dutchman" of William Brough; then Messrs. Green and Swanborough brought out at the Strand, in 1876, "The Flying Dutchman" (with M. Marius and Miss Lottie Venne); and the "Little Lohengrin" of Mr. Bowyer saw the light in 1884 at the Holborn Theatre.

So much for the German school. Of the French composers, Auber has had more pieces travestied in this country than has any one of his fellows. There is "Masaniello," for instance, and "Fra Diavolo," and "Les Diamans de la Couronne." "Masaniello, or the Fish 'oman of Naples," was the title given by Robert B. Brough to the "fish tale, in one act," which he wrote for the Olympic in 1857. He had, for the impersonator of his hero, Robson, whose presence in the cast suggested to Mrs. Wigan the addition to the mad scene of sundry indications of the actor's former successes at the Olympic. The result was very successful. Masaniello came on, crying--

My lord, the Earl of Hammersmith is taken!
Stop! That's in _Hamlet_! I'm Masaniello!
To be or not to was--that's in _Othello_,
Translated into Irish--for Ristori.
Pop goes the Weasel--that's from _Trovatore_.

He then breaks off into a portion of the dagger dance from "Macbeth Travestie," following this up with a scrap from Italian opera and part of the hornpipe in "The Yellow Dwarf." Then Borella says:--

You are our chief! Do you not know me, sir?

_Mas._ Excellent well! You are a fishmonger!
And I'm your chieftain.

_Pietro._ Are you not, my lad?

_Mas._ Ay, every inch a King-fisher--not bad! (_chuckles_).
The monarch of the deep--my lord of scales;
Here's a discovery--I'm Prince of Whales!...
Think not to pierce this hide of Indian rubber (_weeps_).
A whale! Oh yes! A whale of tears! All blubber!

_Suzanna._ Oh! this side-piercing sight!

_Mas._ I'm very limp--
And small--and flabby! Hang it! I'm a shrimp!

Then followed a song, in parody of "I'm Afloat":--

I'm a shrimp! I'm a shrimp, of diminutive size:
Inspect my antennæ, and look at my eyes;
I'm a natural syphon, when dipped in a cup,
For I drain the contents to the latest drop up.
I care not for craw-fish, I heed not the prawn,
From a flavour especial my fame has been drawn;
Nor e'en to the crab or the lobster I'll yield,
When I'm properly cook'd and efficiently peel'd.
Quick! quick! pile your coals--let your saucepan be deep!
For the weather is warm, and I'm not sure to keep;
Off, off with my head--split my shell into three--
I'm a shrimp! I'm a shrimp--to be eaten with tea.

After this, Robson was wont to introduce a bit of "business" from "The Discreet Princess," ending with a ditty from the "Medea" burlesque. The travestie of the pantomime-action of the dumb girl Fenella was naturally another feature of Brough's work, which had the usual supply of puns, and, altogether, more than the usual amount of literary and dramatic merit. The little travestie, called "Masse-en-Yell-Oh," written by Messrs. Harry Paulton and Mostyn Tedde for the Comedy in 1886, was an unpretending piece of work, not challenging comparison with its predecessor.

Auber's "Fra Diavolo" was another of the operatic originals on which H. J. Byron based his comic fancies. He wrote, to begin with, "Fra Diavolo, or the Beauty and the Brigands," first seen at the Strand in 1858; and then, twenty years after, "Young Fra Diavolo," which made its appearance at the Gaiety. "Les Diamans de la Couronne" fell to the lot of Mr. Reece, who, in 1875, prepared for the Holborn Theatre the piece entitled "The Half-crown Diamonds," a revised edition of which found its way to the stage of the Imperial Theatre just five years later.

Hérold's "Zampa" was burlesqued by Mr. T. F. Plowman at the Court in 1872, and by Mr. J. McArdle for the provincial stage in 1876. The "Mignon" of M. Thomas has also been transmogrified into the "Merry Mignon" of Mr. Wilton Jones (1882). The "Carmen" of Georges Bizet has had its mirthful side portrayed in no fewer than four comic pieces--the "Carmen, or Sold for a Song" of Mr. Reece (Folly, 1879); the "Cruel Carmen" of Mr. Wilton Jones (1880); the "Little Carmen" of Mr. Alfred Murray (Globe, 1884); and the "Carmen Up to Data" of Messrs. Sims and Pettitt (Gaiety, 1890). The Carmen of the first of these productions was Miss Lydia Thompson,--of the last, Miss Florence St. John, a charming vocalist, gifted with the true _vis comica_.

But the most popular, by a long way, of all French operas, for purposes of burlesque, has been the "Faust" of Gounod. Of the many travesties of this, or of the story embodied in it, the earliest was that of Halford, brought out at the Olympic in 1854. This was followed in 1857 by a piece called "Alonzo the Brave," written by Mr. Burnand for performance by University amateurs at Cambridge, and mingling the story of Alonzo, as told in the ballad, with that of Faust, in a fashion effective, if a little puzzling. In this piece of extravagance (in which, by the way, Mr. Burnand played Mephistopheles), Imogene is the heroine, taking the place of Marguerite in the affections of Faust. For a while, in the absence of Alonzo, she yields to the snares of the tempter; but, in the end, her first sweetheart appears to her as his own ghost, her inconstancy is forgiven, and Faust retires from the scene.

Seven years later Mr. Burnand wrote a burlesque called "Faust and Marguerite" for the St. James's. He had Ashley for his Faust, Charles Mathews and Mrs. Charles Mathews for his Mephistopheles and Marguerite, H. J. Montague for his Valentine, and "Johnny" Clarke for his Martha. In this instance he followed the story of the opera pretty closely till near the end, when Faust was sued for breach of promise of marriage, and escaped the clutches of Mephistopheles only by consenting to pair off with Martha! A visit to a music-hall formed part of the action, and gave occasion for some pointed lines. Said Faust:--

I'm saddened by your modern comic singing;

and Mephistopheles went on to describe the scene:--

There sat the draper's clerk, who wildly loves
The tenth-rate _prima donna_ in cleaned gloves;
The would-be swell, who thinks it mighty grand
To shake the comic singer by the hand;
Who pays for his amusement through the nose,
And stands not on the order of his "goes."
He thinks the dark girls dressed in blue first-raters,
And is familiar with the seedy waiters;
He sips his sling or takes some sort of toddy,
And encores everything and everybody.

Marguerite says at one point--

That _circled orb_, you think, 's the moon; it ain't:
We know 'tis but a _circle daub_ of paint.

And she remarks elsewhere that

The minnow is the _minnow_-mum of fishes.

Faust says, in one place--

Our _prima donna_, sir, has gone, I guess,
To make herself _primmer_ and to _don her_ dress.

There is a diverting parody on "My Mother":--

Who guided you o'er lake and fell,
Who told you all there was to tell,
Ne'er missed a place, but showed it well?

Your Murray!

In 1869 Mr. Burnand was to the fore again with "Very Little Faust and More Marguerite," which was played at the Charing Cross Theatre (as the building was then called). A few years later--in 1877--H. J. Byron entered the field with "Little Doctor Faust," in which he had for interpreters the Gaiety artists, headed by Miss Farren and Mr. Edward Terry. Later still--in 1885--came a provincial writer with "Faust in Forty Minutes." In 1886 we had at the Royalty a piece called "Mephisto," of which the only characteristic feature was an imitation of Mr. Irving by Mr. E. J. Henley, clever in its way, but not to be compared for sustained truthfulness to the performance given by Mr. H. E. Dixey in "Adonis" (at the Gaiety) a week or two previously. In 1886, also, Mr. Burnand brought out at Toole's--with Mr. Toole as Mephistopheles (_à la_ Irving)--"Faust and Loose"; and, two years after, we had at the Gaiety the "Faust up to Date" of Messrs. G. R. Sims and Henry Pettitt, of which more hereafter. A notable fact about "Faust and Loose" is the appearance on the stage, for the first time, of Marguerite's mother--a lady unaccountably neglected by all previous writers, serious or otherwise! In the burlesque she thus introduces herself:--

My name it is---- Really,
I can't state it clearly;
But I'll observe, merely,
That I'm not to blame.
To save further bother,
I'm Margaret's mother,
And, as I've no other,
Why, that is my name.

They can't do without me,
The play's all about me,
They flout me, they scout me;
Oh! I call it mean!
Each version where Ma is,
In London or Paris,
Makes me Mrs. Harris,
Much talked of, not seen.

I'm griping and grasping,
I'm snoring, I'm gasping,
With fear my voice rasping
Miss Marguerite fills.
They speak thus behind me--
You'll speak as you find me--
But all have maligned me,
From Goethe to Wills!

English serious opera has not often fallen a prey to the untender mercies of the parodist. Balfe and Vincent Wallace alone have been victimised in that way--Balfe through his "Bohemian Girl" and "Rose of Castile"; Wallace through his "Maritana." The "Bohemian Girl" has taken four different shapes on the burlesque boards. In 1851, as transmogrified by the Brothers Brough, she figured at the Haymarket as "Arline." In 1864, under the auspices of Messrs. Best and Bellingham, she appeared at Sadler's Wells under the same designation. At the command of Mr. W. S. Gilbert she posed at the Royalty in 1868 as "The Merry Zingara." In 1877, as portrayed by H. J. Byron at the Opéra Comique and Gaiety, she appeared as "The Bohemian Gy-url." For his Arline Mr. Gilbert had Miss "Patty" Oliver; for his Gipsy Queen, Miss Charlotte Saunders; for his Count Arnheim, Fred Dewar; and for his Devilshoof, Danvers. Byron's piece was interpreted by the Gaiety Company. "The Rose of Castile," as treated by Mr. Conway Edwardes, was seen in 1872 at the Brighton Theatre as "The Rows of Castile." "Maritana," of course, was the origin and basis of Mr. Burnand's "Mary Turner" (Holborn Theatre, 1867), as well as of Byron's "Little Don Cæsar de Bazan" (Gaiety, 1876), in which Mr. Terry was such an entertaining King Charles.

IX.

BURLESQUE OF FICTION AND SONG.

The writers of stage travestie have gone less to fiction for subject-matter than might have been expected. Half a dozen romances previous to Scott, half a dozen of Scott's own stories, about the same number of modern novels, and still fewer foreign masterpieces--these represent the sources of all the most important of the burlesques which have been based upon invented prose narrative.

The earliest of the tales which have been thus dealt with is "Robinson Crusoe." Of this time-honoured story, the first whimsical treatment was that which took the shape of a piece called "Crusoe the Second, or the Shipwrecked Milliners," presented at the Lyceum in 1847. This was written by Stocqueler, and had for interpreters Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, with Alfred Wigan (as Crusoe). It was followed, in 1860, at the Princess's, by the "Robinson Crusoe" of H. J. Byron. Seven years later, no fewer than six writers joined in the production of a perversion of Defoe's tale, brought out at the Haymarket in 1867, and bearing the names of H. J. Byron, W. S. Gilbert, T. Hood, jun., H. S. Leigh, W. J. Prowse, and Arthur Sketchley. In this (which was given at a _matinée_ for the benefit of the family of Paul Gray, the artist) the parts were all sustained by well-known men of art and letters. After this there came, in 1876, at the Folly, the "Robinson Crusoe" of Mr. H. B. Farnie,[48] which, in its turn, was followed, just ten years later, by yet another arrangement of the story, in which Mr. Farnie had the co-operation of Mr. Reece.

[48] With Miss Lydia Thompson as Robinson, Mr. Lionel Brough as Jim
Cocks, and Mr. Willie Edouin as Man Friday.

To the Adelphi, in 1846, belongs an "extra extravagant extravaganza," founded by Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett and Mark Lemon on the "Peter Wilkins" of Robert Paltock (first printed in 1750). This burlesque had for its full title--"Peter Wilkins, or the Loadstone Rock and the Flying Indians," and had for its chief interpreters--Miss Woolgar as the hero, Paul Bedford as Jack Adams, and Miss E. Chaplin as Youriwkee. Dr. Johnson's "Rasselas" attracted the attention of William Brough, and was made, in 1862, the foundation of a burlesque produced at the Haymarket.

In 1765 Horace Walpole published his mediæval imagining, "The Castle of Otranto," by which so many of us have in our youth been thrilled. In 1848 Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett set himself to make fun of its singularities, and the result was a very brightly written piece, enacted at the Haymarket.[49] In this, Manfred's son Conrad is found imprisoned under the gigantic helmet of Alphonso, and the distracted father at once begins to give way to comic word-splitting:--

[49] With Keeley as Manfred, Bland as the Marquis Vincenza, Miss P.
Horton as Theodore, Miss Reynolds as Isabella, and Mrs. W. Clifford as
Hippolita.

If he's beneath that hat,
His bier, by this time, must be precious flat!
I'll not believe it! no, my life upon it!
No one would dare my Conrad thus to bonnet.
But stay!--has anybody got a lever,
To give a lift to this gigantic beaver?
(_The helmet is raised at the back; Manfred looks under it._)
Alas! he speaks the truth--my son lies low,
Poor little chap, under this great _chapeau_.
My. Conrad gone!--This is a sad disaster,
The die is cast by this unlucky castor!
Can no one tell me how or whence it came?
Is there no ticket with the hatter's name?
If I knew grief before, this hat has capped it,--
My boy, crush'd 'neath this hated nap, has napped it!

In the opening scene, Hippolita, Conrad's mother, ventures to suggest to Manfred that the boy is not of marriageable age, sixteen summers not having yet passed o'er his head:--

_Man._ Time flies, you know; thro' life one quickly flings
One's sixteen summersets, after sixteen springs.

_Hip._ 'Tis my maternal tenderness that speaks:
As yet no whiskery down adorns his cheeks.

_Man._ I'll hear no more! talk not of down to me--
The boy's as downy as a boy need be.

In the year following the publication of "The Castle of Otranto," the "Vicar of Wakefield" was given to the world. It appears to have escaped travestie until 1885, when--thinking more, no doubt, of Mr. Wills's "Olivia" than of Goldsmith's _chef d'oeuvre_--Messrs. Stephens and Yardley brought out at the Gaiety "The Vicar of Wideawakefield," in which Mr. Arthur Roberts and Miss Laura Linden sought, not unsuccessfully, to reproduce and heighten some of the artistic peculiarities of Mr. Irving and Miss Ellen Terry. Mrs. Shelley's "Frankenstein," published in 1818, received its first dramatic _reductio ad absurdum_ in 1849, when the Brothers Brough made it the subject of a burlesque;--its second in 1887, when Messrs. "Richard Henry" turned out at the Gaiety a travestie, of which I shall have something to say in my next chapter. In the Broughs' version Wright was Frankenstein and Paul Bedford the Monster, and much fun was made out of the finishing touches which Frankenstein gave to his work. "O." Smith, Miss Woolgar, and Miss Chaplin were also in the cast.

Sir Walter Scott's novels have obtained a fair amount of notice from the comic dramatists. "Ivanhoe," for example, has exercised the humorous powers of three--of Robert Brough (at the Haymarket in 1850), of H. J. Byron (at the Strand in 1862), and of T. F. Plowman (at the Court in 1871). Byron (who called his work "Ivanhoe in accordance with the Spirit of the Times"[50]) had the aid of Miss Charlotte Saunders as his Wilfred, of Charles Rice as his Brian de Bois-Guilbert, of "Johnny" Clarke as his Isaac of York, of Miss Eleanor Bufton as his Black Knight, of Miss Swanborough as Rowena, of Jenny Rogers as his Rebecca, and of Miss Polly Marshall, Miss Fanny Hughes, and Poynter in other parts. In the provinces he was his own Isaac of York.

[50] This burlesque has been used, during the present year, as the
foundation for a travestie played by the Cambridge Amateur Dramatic
Company, under the title of "Ivanhoe à la Carte" (in allusion to Mr.
D'Oyly Carte's production of Sir Arthur Sullivan's "Ivanhoe"). To this
adaptation, it is said, new lyrics were contributed by Messrs. J. K.
Stephen and R. C. Lehmann.

"Isaac of York," by the way, was the title given by Mr. Plowman to his effort, which had a good deal of ingenuity and "go." Here, for example, is an extract from the scene at the banquet at which Cedric entertains his guests. Ivanhoe is soliloquising aside, and his utterances are interrupted by the demands of the _personæ_ sitting at table:--

_Ivanhoe_ (_soliloquising aside_). 'Tis strange once more my native
boards to tread,
Beneath the roof where I was born and----

_Rowena._ _Bread!_

_Ivan._ If she should recognise me, she'd be flustered.
My utmost self-possession must be----

_Rebecca._ _Mustard!_

_Ivan._ She's lovelier than ever. Happy fate,
Her beauteous face once more to contem----

_Isaac._ _Plate!_

_Ivan._ That scamp, Sir B., I'll challenge--that's quite clear,
And (if I can) despatch him to his----

_Cedric._ _Beer!_

_Ivan._ I'll meet him boldly with my----

_Isaac._ _Knife and fork!_

_Ivan._ And fight till one of us is dead as----

_Sir Brian._ _Pork!_

_Ivan._ When Richard comes he'll stop such idle praters,
These plottings Normans and base agi----

_Isaac._ _Taters!_

_Ivan._ He'll make 'em in their knavish doings halt;
His action will be battery and as----

_Reb._ _Salt!_

_Ivan._ Out of his land he'll soon make each a stepper,
When he returns, by Jove, he'll give 'em----

_Isaac._ _Pepper!_

In another scene Isaac gives vent to a piece of mock-heroic execration directed against Brian de Bois-Guilbert:--

Avenge me, then, ye fates, I do implore.
May he, like me, be martyr to lumbag_er_,
Tic-doloreux, sciatica, and ag_er_,
Sore-throats, neuralgia, hooping-cough, and sneezing,
Rheumatics, asthma, colds, and bronchial wheezings.
And while the north-east wind doth round him blow,
Ye clouds, hail, mizzle, drizzle, sleet, and snow;
Rain rakes and pitchforks, kittens, cats and dogs,
While down his throat pour vapours, mists, and fogs.
May broken chilblains ever stud his toes,
May icicles hang pendent from his nose,
May winter's cold his shaving-water freeze,
May he be stopped whene'er he's going to sneeze.
And when appalled you loudly call for helps,
May palsies seize you----

_Sir B._ Oh, shade of Mr. Phelps![51]

[51] Mr. Plowman had Mr. Righton for his Isaac, Miss Kate Bishop for
his Ivanhoe, Miss Nelly Bromley for his Rowena, Miss Oliver for his
Rebecca, Mr. Alfred Bishop for his Brian de Bois-Guilbert, and Mlle.
Cornélie D'Anka for his Richard Coeur-de-Lion.

Next to "Ivanhoe" in popularity for travestie we may place "Rob Roy." Mr. Sydney French took it in hand at the Marylebone in 1867, and Mr. William Lowe gave it a very Scotch rendering, in 1880, under the title of "Mr. Robert Roye, Hielan Helen his Wife, and Dougal the Dodger." But the "standard" burlesque on the subject is, of course, Mr. Burnand's "Robbing Roy" (Gaiety, 1879), in which Mr. Terry was such a diverting "Roy," with Miss Farren as Francis, Miss Vaughan as Diana, and Mr. Royce as an admirable Dougal. Of the "Bride of Lammermoor" there have been two burlesque versions--Oxberry's, at the Strand in 1848; and H. J. Byron's, at the Prince of Wales's in 1865. "Kenilworth" has been similarly honoured. There was the piece brought out at the Strand in 1858 by Andrew Halliday and a collaborator, and there was that which Messrs. Reece and Farnie contributed to the Avenue Theatre in 1885. "Guy Mannering" has engaged the attention of Mr. Burnand: we can all remember his "Here's another Guy Mannering," brought out at the Vaudeville in 1874. For the solitary travestie of "The Talisman," the late J. F. M'Ardle is responsible. It was first played at Liverpool in the year last named.

Lord Lytton's novels and romances have been ridiculed on the stage very much less frequently than have his dramas. "The Very Last Days of Pompeii," by Mr. Reece, and "The Last of the Barons," by Mr. Du Terreaux, are, so far as I know, the only stage works in which his prose fiction has been perverted. The former was seen at the Vaudeville in 1872, and the latter at the Strand in the same year. In "The Last of the Barons," Atkins was the Kingmaker, Mr. Edward Terry portraying Edward IV. as a great dandy, and endowing him with an amusing lisp.

When we turn to the stories of more recent times, we think at once of the "No Thoroughfare" of Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins, and of the "Foul Play" of Charles Reade and Dion Boucicault, as having suffered at the hands of the irreverent scribes. The former romance suggested to Hazlewood junior his "No Thorough-fair beyond Highbury, or the Maid, the Mother, and the Malicious Mountaineer." This was in 1868; and in the following year the elder George Grossmith emulated Hazlewood's example at the Victoria Theatre. "Foul Play" was parodied by Mr. Burnand, not only in the pages of _Punch_, but in "Fowl Play, or a Story of Chikkin Hazard," produced at the New Queers in 1868.[52] Of the bright writing in this "book," no better specimen could well be furnished than the song which Wylie sings in description of the scuttling of the _Proserpine_. This I give in full:--

[52] In this piece Mr. Toole was the Robert Penfold, Mr. Lionel
Brough the Joseph Wylie, Mr. Gaston Murray the General Rollingstone,
Mr. Wyndham the Arthur Waddles, and Miss Ellen Farren (then in her
novitiate) the Nancy Rouse.

I'm a werry wicked cove, with my one, two, three
_Characters_ in the history as follars
Of a sickly gal and me, and a missionary_ee_,
In a choker white and nobby pair o' collars.
The _Proserpine_ an' guns
Weighed such a lot of tuns,
And I was the mate and the butler,
And as I wanted funs
You gave two thousand puns
To me to go below, and so to scuttle her.

_Both._ {He's} a werry wicked cove, with {his} one, two,
{I'm} {my} three
Cha_rac_ters in the history as follars;
Of the sickly girl and {he} and the missionary_ee_,
{me}
In a choker white and nobby pair of collars.

There was copper there and gold, both o' yours not mine,
'Twas a werry awful risk, but I ran 'un;
And the Copper, labelled Gold, went aboard the _Proserpine_
And the Gold, labelled Copper, on the _Shannon_.
Oh, it went down like a line,
On board the _Proserpine_,
And it was not my little game to stop'er,
And the gold comes safe in the _Shannon_ ship,
While you gets the walue for the copper.

The _Proserpine_ went down in a one, two, three,
Which she did to the werry bottom;
They called out for the boats, and the ropes, and floats,
But couldn't get 'em cos I'd _got_ 'em.
So they got a boat and sail,
As wouldn't stand a gale,
And the lady and the gent jumps _in_ her,
And the missionary_ee_
Took a pound of tea,
But they hadn't got no grub for their dinner.

_Both._ {I'm} a very wicked cove, with my one, two, three,
{You're}
Which is a quotation from Cocker;
But I mourns for that Gal and the Missionaryee
Which is both gone down to Davy Jones's Locker.

Among other recent fictions which have obtained the distinction of stage travestie may be named "Lady Audley's Secret," "Little Lord Fauntleroy," and "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." In the first of these instances H. J. Byron was the operator--the scene, the St. James's Theatre in 1863. Mrs. Burnett's pretty conception was tortured into "The Other Little Lord Fondleboy" (1888), and Mr. Stevenson's weird invention into "The Real Case of Hide and Seekyll" (Royalty, 1888), for which the younger George Grossmith must bear the blame.