is other game in view—he has but little taste for Tragedy fiction, the Realities of Life are the objects of his regard.
“Tis a fine Tragedy,” continued he, addressing himself to Tom.
“Yes—yes,” replied the other, “I dare say it is, but, upon my soul, I know nothing about it—that is—I have seen it before, and I mean to read it.”
“Bless my heart!” said a fat lady in a back seat, “what a noise them 'are gentlemen does make—they talk so loud there 'ant no such thing as seeing what is said—I wonder they don't make these here boxes more bigger, for I declare I'm so scrouged I'm all in a—Fanny, did you bring the rumperella for fear it should rain as we goes home?”
“Hush, Mother,” said a plump-faced little girl, who sat along side of her—“don't talk so loud, or otherwise every body will hear you instead of the Performers, and that would be quite preposterous.”
“Don't call me posterous Miss; because you have been to school, and learnt some edification, you thinks you are to do as you please with me.”
1 Mrs. G——den, a dashing Cyprian of the first order, well
known in the House, a fine, well-made woman, always ready
for a lark, and generally well togged.
This interesting conversation was interrupted by loud vociferations of Bravo, Bravo, from all parts of the House, as the drop-scene fell upon the conclusion of the second act. The clapping of hands, the whistling and noise that ensued for a few minutes, appeared to astonish Tallyho. “I don't much like my seat,” said Dashall. “No,” said Sparkle, “I did not much expect you would remain long—you are a mighty ambitious sort of fellow, and I perceive you have a desire to be exalted.”
“I confess the situation, is too confined,” replied Tom—“come, it is excessively warm here, let us take a turn and catch a little air.”
The House was crowded in every part; for the announcement of a new Tragedy from the pen of Lord Byron, particularly under the circumstances of its introduction to the Stage, against the expressed inclination of its Author, the
1 At an early hour on the evening this Tragedy was first
pro-duced at Drury Lane, Hand-bills were plentifully
distributed through the Theatre, of which the following is a
copy:
“The public are respectfully informed, that the
representation of Lord Byron's Tragedy, The Doge of Venice,
this evening, takes place in defiance of the injunction from
the Lord Chancellor, which was not applied for until the
remonstrance of the Publisher, at the earnest desire of the
noble Author, had failed in protecting that Drama from its
intrusion on the Stage, for which it was never intended.”
This announcement had the effect of exciting public
expectation beyond its usual pitch upon such occasions. The
circumstances were somewhat new in the history of the Drama:
the question being, whether a published Flay could be
legally brought on the Stage without the consent, or rather
we should say, in defiance of the Author. “We are not aware
whether this question has been absolutely decided, but this
we do know, that the Piece was performed several nights, and
underwent all the puffing of the adventurous Manager, as
well as all the severity of the Critics. The newspapers of
the day were filled with histories and observations upon it.
No subject engrossed the conversation of the polite and
play-going part of the community but Lord Byron, The Doge of
Venice, and Mr. Elliston. They were all bepraised and
beplastered—exalted and debased—acquitted and condemned;
but it was generally allowed on all hands, that the printed
Tragedy contained many striking beauties, notwithstanding
its alleged resemblance to Venice Preserved. We are,
however, speaking of the acted Tragedy, and the magnanimous
Manager, who with such promptitude produced it in an altered
shape; and having already alluded to the theatrical puffing
so constantly resorted to upon all occasions, we shall drop
the curtain upon the subject, after merely remarking, that
the Times of the same day has been known to contain the
Manager's puff, declaring the piece to have been
received with rapturous applause, in direct opposition
to the Editor's critique, which as unequivocally pronounced
its complete failure!
will of its publisher, and the injunction{1} of the Lord Chancellor, were attractions of no ordinary nature; and
1 Injunction—The word injunction implies a great deal, and
has in its sound so much of the terrific, as in many
instances to paralyze exertion on the part of the supposed
offending person or persons. It has been made the instrument
of artful, designing, and malicious persons, aided by
pettifogging or pretended attorneys, to obtain money for
themselves and clients by way of compromise; and in numerous
instances it is well known that fear has been construed into
actual guilt. Injunctions are become so common, that even
penny printsellers have lately issued threats, and promised
actual proceedings, against the venders of articles said to
be copies from their original drawings, and even carried it
so far as to withhold (kind souls!) the execution of their
promises, upon the payment of a 5L. from those who were
easily to be duped, having no inclination to encounter the
glorious uncertainty of the law, or no time to spare for
litigation.
