ACT III.
Before the doors are open a servant in livery enters the room, in which the company are seated, and puts up a placard with the following notice:—
“GREAT ATTRACTION FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY!!
Mr. Alonzo Napoleon Smith, of the Boundless Prairie, America, begs to announce that he will exhibit his unrivalled
WAX-WORK FIGURES.
Admission free. Children half-price.
N.B.—NO MONEY RETURNED WITHOUT IT’S BAD.”
Prior to the opening of the doors Berlinda takes her seat among the audience.
The door opens. A row of figures, covered over with sheets, stand on rout seats round the room. One or two reclining figures in the foreground. Overture on the violin, “How doth the little busy bee,” by Roderigo Pipkins, the meandering musician.
A servant in livery then enters, and uncovers the wax-work figures, revealing—
| Joan of Arc, represented by | Miss Florence Edwards. |
| Queen of Night | Miss Emily Cathcart. |
| Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington | Master Alec Boyce. |
| Richard III. | Master Walter Stanley. |
| Lay Figures, &c., &c. | |
Enter Alonzo Napoleon Smith, as Lecturer.
Ladies and Gentlemen, at the request of the Universe, seconded by the United States of America, I have brought my caravan from the Boundless Prairie, in order to raise the tone of the fine arts in your country, and to devote the proceeds of the entertainment to the liquidation of your national debt. No, no! not a word of thanks, I beg. Such an audience as this before me fills me with awe, and I speak with authority when I say that had I not a dash of Minerva’s wisdom my nervous system would hardly stand the ordeal.
I will not trouble you with an account of how I collected the information which will be contained in my brief lecture. Suffice it to say that a friend having presented me with a copy of the Bodleian Library, and having taken apartments in the British Museum for some time past, not to mention the fact of a visit to the Alexandrian Library prior to the late disastrous fire, has posted me up in the points which will be brought under your notice. But as Homer very beautifully says in his last little work, we have—
“Ad referendum in loco, viva voce summum bonum videlicet.”
Let our business be to show the product of the busy bee, namely, these “neatly spread” wax figures.
And first let me call your attention to Joan of Arc.
(Joan of Arc moves her head, and raises her hand mechanically).
Much mystery attaches to the young person now before us. It is supposed that she was called Joan d’Arc, because we are in the dark as to her birthplace, unless we accept the idea that she came from Arcadia. She suffered much from nightmare, and fancied she was riding over France as its victoress. Consequently she adopted men’s clothes. It is well to observe too that she cut off her hair before she arrived at Chinon. She headed an army, so the tale goes, of 7,000 men; and with the strength of her arms the foe was defeated. After which she came to ruin (Rouen), that is to say she was burnt there.
Virtue and manliness always succeed in the long run, however, and her successes have been immortalized in Paris by a gorgeous tombstone, entitled the Arc de Triomphe!
The next figure I shall introduce is one of a paragorical nature. The Queen of Night, represented by a daughter of Eve. Unseen she spreads her mantle over the earth, and thus acts the part of an itinerant angel. The umbrella in her hand is also an emblematic figure, representing the pernicious influences which attend upon her, and is called the deadly nightshade. In the absence of any further proofs of the authenticity of this character there will be an interval of a minute, during which the band will play.—Exit.
Roderigo Pipkins immediately strikes up, but suddenly leaves off, takes out the ringlet from his pocket, and waves it before the audience. Berlinda hides her face in her pocket handkerchief.
Roderigo advancing, and whispering to Berlinda—
“Berlinda is it you dear? do you love me now as then?
O! wilt thou be my bride, love, and not fly oft again?
You will? Then come up quickly—Smith will come ere long;
He’ll be puzzled when he reckons, you’re another figurant!”
Berlinda stands on a pedestal beside the wax figures, and Roderigo covers her with a sheet.
Enter Alonzo Napoleon Smith.
I shall now briefly introduce another well-known character—Field Marshal the late Duke of Wellington—he will be easily recognized from the fact of his nasal probus being the most prominent feature of his face. I will not go all over his history. You remember all about Magna Charta, and the formation of a body called the Chartists. You know how the Spanish Armada was defeated in Trafalgar Bay, and how Wellington cheered on his men, saying, “I’ll be your leader.” You remember that little affair with the Duchess of Salisbury at the ball at Brussels, and how the Duke was made a knight of the Garter. Having brought the history thus far up to the eve of Waterloo, let us confine our attention to that event. And first, I notice it was not a bootless expedition, for ever since that event Wellington and Blucher boots have become an institution of your free and enlightened country. Second, it is a popular fallacy to suppose that His Grace was in any way connected with the trade of a hatter. When he said “Up boys and (h)at ’em,” he merely wished his men to give the foe a bonneting! Moral from the life. He earned a glorious reputation as the Iron Duke, and his monument overlooking Hyde Park is the finest bit of irony extant.
Let us now turn to the figure of Richard III. A bad figure, as you will see; and we learn on the very face of our subject that though deformities may be put behind one’s back they are not therefore altogether out of sight. Richard was Duke of Gloster, and it is generally admitted that it was not the cheese for him to seize the crown in such mighty haste. As you are aware, one of the main features of his reign was the introduction of the pillo(w)ry, by which he smothered the two little princes in the Tower.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, I must draw my entertainment to a close—
Rod. (aside). Now screw thy courage to the sticking place.
Here goes!
Ladies and gentlemen, I hope I don’t behave—
A. N. Smith. Silence, slave!
Rod. Good sir, I crave permission just to say
Before this worthy audience goes away,
There’s still one figure more to show—
A. N. Smith (in surprise). No!
Rod. Indeed there is—one worth her weight in gold.
Berlinda, Roderigo’s bride, behold!
(Uncovers the figure and leads Berlinda to the audience.)
Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve played our little game—
We’re satisfied (aint we, Berlinda?) we hope you are the same.
And now as all the parts of our charade you’ve heard,
It only rests with you to say the word.
[Exit.
The applause was deafening; never did the drawing-room echo back such clapping of hands and hearty bravos as it did that Christmas Eve; the doors were closed, but long and loud shouts for Alonzo Napoleon Smith were raised, and they had again to be opened, for the performers to come in and make their bows to the audience. Roderigo led in Berlinda, Richard the Third came arm in arm with Joan of Arc, the Duke of Wellington chaperoned the Queen of Night, and the livery servant brought in the meandering musician’s fiddle!
And then came the puzzling part of the affair, to try and find out the word. One guessed “Audience,” awe-die-hence; another “Entertainment,” enter-tàen-ment; a third “Overlooking;” and others the most absurd and improbable words possible, and words which were never introduced into the charade at all. At last one sharp boy, who had been taking notes between the acts, stumbled upon the right word, and it was ⸺.[2]
A question now arose as to whether there should be any more charades, or whether the rooms should be cleared again for more general fun. The set entertainments carried the day, however, and after an interval for refreshment, and a little variety in the way of some songs by some of the young ladies, the loud bell of the town crier was heard in the hall, and Master Willie Cathcart, who represented that institution, announced—“O yes! O yes! O yes! a great Reform Debate and Demonstration will take place in this place on Christmas Eve, of which all persons interested in the great questions of the day will be pleased to take notice. God save the Queen.” In double-quick time the company fell into position, and then came