PUNCH AND JUDY.
This famous puppet-show can easily be arranged for the parlor. The first requirement of the performance will naturally be the dramatis personæ. These, in the drama as usually played, are as follows:—
1. Punch. 2. Judy. 3. The Baby. 4. The Dog Toby. 5. The Clown. 6. The Policeman (or Beadle). 7. The Hangman. 8. The Doctor. 9. The Ghost. The head for each character must be carved out of wood, with a tubular cavity in the neck large enough to admit the first joint of the performer’s forefinger. Wooden arms and legs must next be prepared. These need only extend to the elbow and knee, and the Baby will require arms only. Appropriate costumes must next be manufactured. Mr. Punch will have the usual conical hat, and Judy a frilled cap and black ribbons. The body of each figure is a mere bag, just large enough to admit, through an opening behind, the hand of the performer, whose forefinger is thrust into the hollow of the neck, and the thumb and second finger into the sleeves, thereby giving motion to the arms.
The robes of the various characters are firmly attached to the respective heads, and the arms glued just within the lower part of the sleeves. By slipping his hand, therefore within the robe, his forefinger being inserted into the hole in the neck, and his thumb and middle finger into the sleeves, as above mentioned, the performer not only keeps the robe properly distended, but is able to impart the requisite appearance of vitality to the figures.
Having described the characters, it next becomes necessary to say a few words as to the “stage” whereon they perform. Most of our readers will be familiar with the portable theatre of the genuine street artists; a sentry-box-like wooden framework with a green baize cover, within which the performer stands, while a movable shelf in front of him supports the box which contains the puppets and other “properties” of the mimic drama. A little simple stage-carpentering will transform the domestic clothes-horse into a capital Punch-and-Judy theatre. Some sort of ornamental framework or border should be tacked all round the outer edge of the opening, by way of a kind of proscenium, and a slip of thin board, three or four inches in width, should be nailed horizontally across from side to side, to form the stage. The remainder should be covered with green baize, tammy, or any other available material, reaching to the ground. The structure should be placed against a wall or window curtain, which will close its vacant side, and form a convenient background.
Where even this simple arrangement is deemed too elaborate, an open door, with a slip of wood tacked across it about six feet from the floor, and a table cover hanging from this by way of curtain, will serve as a tolerable makeshift.
The “properties” of the drama are not numerous. They consist of a gallows or gibbet, made to fit, when in use, into a mortice cut into the piece of wood which forms the stage, a couple of wooden sticks, about a foot in length and half an inch in diameter, and an instrument known as the “squeaker,” which is said to be used to produce those peculiar vocal effects in which Mr. Punch delights. It consists of a couple of pieces of tin, each about an inch and a quarter in length, and three quarters in breadth. These, which are slightly curved in the direction of their length, are laid one against the other (the concave faces inward), with a piece of tape or China ribbon, of the same breadth, stretched tightly between them, and the whole bound firmly together with thread. This instrument is placed in the mouth, and is asserted to produce the Root-i-too-ti-too! and other eccentricities of the Punch language, and it is possible that in the hands (or rather the mouths) of those who cultivate the art professionally, it really does so. We must confess, however, that our own attempts in that direction have not been successful, and after several very narrow escapes of swallowing the instrument, we have come to the conclusion that a less perfect Root-i-too, produced by natural means, is on the whole to be preferred. Should any reader, after this warning, still be disposed to run the risk of choking himself in the pursuit of artistic effect, far be it from us to discourage his noble ardor.
It is customary to have a second or assistant showman, who stands outside the theatre, and forms the orchestra, for which purpose he is supplied with a set of Pandean pipes and a drum, or, for lack of these, with the best substitutes available. In a drawing-room, some obliging young lady at the piano-forte will generally render the performance independent of his musical aid. But he has a second function somewhat akin to that of the “Chorus” of a Greek play. His duty is to converse with Mr. Punch, to “draw him out,” to elicit his views on things in general, and his own domestic arrangements in particular, and last, but not least, by judicious repetition, in the form of questions or otherwise, to translate, so to speak, his observations to the audience.
The drama of Punch and Judy is based on tradition. The plot is pretty much the same in all cases, but the dialogue varies according to the taste and invention of the individual performer. We subjoin a specimen, representing pretty nearly the popular version, on which the reader may engraft such variations as he pleases.
Punch (heard below).—Roo-it-oot-i-too-it!
Showman.—Good morning, Mr. Punch.
Punch.—Good morning, Mr. Showman. Have you seen my Judy?
Showman.—Have I seen your Judy? No, sir, I don’t know the lady.
Punch.—She’s such a beauty! I’ll call her. Judy, my dear! Judy!
Enter Judy.
Judy.—Well, Mr. Punch, what do you want!
Punch.—Why, I want to give you a kiss, to be sure. (They embrace, then dance.)
Punch.—Now Judy, my dear, go and fetch the baby. (Exit Judy.) Such a beautiful baby! Just like me!
Showman.—Just like you, is he? Then he must be a beauty!
Punch.—Oh, here he is! Dance a bady-diddy!
(Judy appears with baby, which she hands to Punch, and exit.)
Punch.—There’s a little popsy-wopsy! (Nurses baby and sings),
“Hush-a-bye, baby,
On the tree-top;
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock;
When the wind ceases
The cradle will fall,
Down will come cradle
And baby and all.”
(Baby cries, Punch slaps it and continues)—
“Hush-a-bye, baby,
Sleep while you can;
If you live till you’re older,
You’ll grow up a man.”
Oh, you little duck! There never was such a good child.
Master Punch (cries).—Mam-ma-a-a!
Punch (knocking the Baby’s head against the wall).—Go to sleep, you naughty boy! (Resumes his song.)
“Hush-a-bye, baby——”
Master Punch (louder).—Mam-ma-a-a-a!
Punch (hitting harder).—Hush-a-bye!
Master Punch (yells).—Ya-a-a-ah-ah!
Punch (hitting him).—Be quiet, can’t you? Bless him, he’s got his father’s nose! (The child seizes Punch by the nose.) Murder! Let go! There! go to your mother, then. (Throws Master Punch into interior of show, calls, “Judy, my dear! Judy!” then sings)—
“She’s all my fancy painted her,
She’s lovely, she’s divine.”
Enter Judy.
Judy.—Where’s the baby?
Punch.—The baby?
Judy.—Yes.
Punch.—What! did you not catch him?
Judy.—Catch him?
Punch.—Yes; I threw him out of window. I thought you might be passing.
Judy.—Oh, my poor child!
Punch.—Why, he was as much mine as yours.
Judy.—Oh, you cruel monster! I’ll tear your eyes out!
Punch.—Root-to-to-to-too-it! (They fight. Ultimately Punch ducks down, and brings up stick, and, after a further scrimmage, hits Judy on the head and kills her. The body remains hanging over front of stage. Punch dances.)
Policeman (brandishing his staff).—Hullo! hullo! hullo! Here I am!
Punch.—Hullo! hullo! hullo! And so am I! (Whacks policeman over the head.)
Policeman.—Do you see my staff, sir?
Punch.—Do you feel mine, sir? (Hits him again.)
Policeman.—No nonsense, Mr. Punch! You have committed murder, and you must answer for it to the laws of your country.
Punch.—We don’t keep it.
Policeman.—No nonsense, Mr. Punch! I am a Policeman.
Punch.—And so am I!
Policeman.—You a Policeman?
Punch.—Yes.
Policeman.—Where’s your authority?
Punch.—There it is! (Knocks him down.)
Policeman (rising).—Mr. Punch, you are an ugly, ill-mannered fellow!
Punch.—You’re another!
Policeman.—Take your nose away from my face, sir!
Punch.—Take your face away from my nose, sir!
Policeman.—Pooh!
Punch.—Pooh! (Hits Policeman again.)
Policeman.—You have committed an aggravated assault and contempt of court, and I am under the painful necessity of taking you up.
Punch.—And I am under the painful necessity of knocking you down. (Kills him with a blow of his stick.)
Punch (dancing).—Root-to-to-to-too-it!
Showman.—Hullo, Mr. Punch, you’ve done it now!
Punch.—Oh yes, I’ve done it! What a day we are having! (Dances again.)
(Mysterious music. The Ghost rises and places its hands upon the bodies of Punch’s victims. The bodies rise slowly and disappear.)
Punch (sings).—
“Rum-ti-um-ti-iddity-um,
Pop goes——”
Ghost.—Boo-o-o-o-oh!
Punch.—A-a-a-ah! (He throws up his hands and kicks wildly.)
Ghost.—Boo-o-o-o-oh!
Punch.—Oh, dear! oh, dear! It wasn’t me!
Ghost (points at Punch).—Boo-o-o-o-oh! (Punch faints. The Ghost sinks.)
Punch.—Oh, dear! I’m a dead man; somebody fetch a doctor.
Enter Doctor.
Doctor.—Who wants the doctor? Why, I declare, it is my old friend Punch. What’s the matter with him, I wonder? (Feels the patient’s pulse.) Fifteen—sixteen—eleven—nineteen—six. I don’t believe he’s quite dead, though. Punch, are you dead?
Punch (starting up and hitting him).—Yes, quite dead. Please bring me to life again.
Doctor.—Where are you hurt? (Examines him. When he reaches the legs Punch kicks him in the eye.) Oh, my eye, my eye! I must go and fetch you some physic!
[Exit.
Punch.—A pretty sort of doctor, to come without any physic!
Re-enter Doctor with stick.
Doctor.—Now, Mr. Punch, we’ll soon see whether you are dead? (Beating him.) Physic! physic! physic!
Punch.—What sort of physic do you call that, Doctor?
Doctor.—Stick-licorice! stick-licorice! stick-licorice! (Repeats the dose.)
Punch.—Stop a bit! Give me the bottle in my own hands. (Takes stick from the Doctor, and thrashes him with it.) Physic! physic! physic!
Doctor.—Oh!
Punch.—Don’t you like your own physic? (Hitting him again.) Stick-licorice! stick-licorice! stick-licorice!
Doctor.—For goodness’ sake, Punch, pay me my fee, and let me go!
Punch.—What is your fee? (Lays down stick.)
Doctor.—A five pound note.
Punch.—Give me the change out of a twopenny-halfpenny postage stamp.
Doctor.—I want five pounds.
Punch.—Let me feel for my purse. (Takes up the stick and hits Doctor.) One! two! three! four! five! (Delivers five blows, and Doctor falls lifeless.) The bill’s settled, and so is the doctor. Root-to-to-to-too-it! (Sings and dances.)
Enter Joey, the Clown.
Joey.—Hullo, Mr. Punch! (Disappears again.)
Punch.—Who called me? (Looks round, and seeing no one, resumes his song.)
“I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With vassals and serfs at my si-i-ide——”
(Joey rises, and taking up the dead body of the Doctor, bobs its head in Punch’s face.)
Joey.—Boo!
Punch.—Who said “Boo?”
Joey (pushing Doctor into his face again).—Boo! boo! boo!
Punch.—Boo! boo! boo! (Knocks Doctor out of sight, and discovers Clown.) Ah, Joey! was that you?
Joey.—No, it was I.
Punch.—Well, don’t do it again, because I’m nervous. Come and feel how my hand shakes. (Clown approaches. Punch tries to hit him, but he ducks and avoids the blow.) Come a little nearer; I won’t hurt you. (Joey again approaches Punch, and again avoids the blow intended for him.) There! it didn’t hurt you, did it?
Joey.—No.
Punch.—Nor that? (Makes another failure.)
Joey.—No.
Punch.—Nor that?
Joey.—Not a bit.
Punch.—Then what are you afraid of? Come and shake hands. (Joey approaches, but has to duck down as before, to avoid a blow which Punch makes at his head.) Joey, you’re a coward!
Joey.—Come on, then.
(Music. Terrific combat between Punch and Clown. The Clown dodges all Punch’s blows, and after bobbing up and down in every direction, suddenly appears behind Punch.)
Joey.—Hullo, Punch! (Disappears.)
Punch.—Where are you, Joey?
Joey (appearing behind Punch).—Here I am. (Disappears again.)
Punch.—I see you. (Peeps round cautiously and comes into collision with Joey. Both start back. Punch lays down his stick and peeps cautiously round the curtains.) I’ve got him now!
Joey (rising behind him and seizing stick).—And how do you like him? (Cudgels Punch.)
Punch.—Murder! fire! thieves! Toby, come and help your master! (Toby barks below. Exit Clown.)
Enter Toby.
Punch.—Good doggy! I knew you’d come to help your master. Poor little Toby! (Rubs his head against the dog’s face.) Ain’t you fond of your master? (Toby snaps.) Oh, my nose! Now, be a good dog, and you shall have a pail of water and a broomstick for supper. (Toby snaps again.) Be quiet, sir, or I’ll knock your brains out! (Toby barks, and Punch attempts to strike him, but at the same instant Joey rises again.)
Joey.—Hullo! Why, that’s my dog Toby. Toby, old fellow, how are you? (Toby barks.)
Punch.—He isn’t your dog.
Joey.—Yes, he is!
Punch.—No, he isn’t!
Joey.—He is, I tell you! A fortnight ago I lost him.
Punch.—And a fortnight ago I found him.
Joey.—We’ll soon settle which of us the dog belongs to, Mr. Punch. We’ll fight for him. (Ducks down and comes up with a stick.) Now don’t you begin till I say “Time.” (Punch knocks Joey down.) Mr. Punch, that wasn’t fair.
Punch.—Why, you said “Time.”
Joey.—I didn’t.
Punch.—What did you say, then?
Joey.—I said, “Don’t you begin till I say ‘Time.’”
Punch (knocking him down again).—There! you said it again.
Joey.—Toby, assist your master. (Toby flies at Punch.)
Punch.—It isn’t fair; he didn’t say “Time.”
Joey.—At him again, Toby! (Toby barks, and Clown thrashes Punch.)
Punch.—Murder! call him off!
Joey.—Oh, you’ve had enough have you? Very well. Come along, Toby! (Exit with Toby.)
Punch (calling after them).—I wouldn’t have him at a gift; he’s got the distemper! Root-to-to-to-too-it!
Enter Hangman with gallows.
Hangman.—Mr. Punch, you are my prisoner.
Hangman.—For having broken the laws of your country.
Punch.—Why, I never touched them.
Hangman.—At any rate you are to be hanged.
Punch.—But I never was tried and condemned.
Hangman.—Never mind! We’ll hang you first and try you afterward.
Punch.—Hanged? Oh, dear! oh, dear!
Hangman.—Yes; and I hope it will be a lesson to you. (Erects the gallows on the stage.)
Punch.—Oh, my poor wife and sixteen small children! most of them twins, and the oldest only three years of age.
Hangman.—Now, Mr. Punch, you are ordered for instant execution.
Punch.—What’s that?
Hangman.—You are to be hanged by the neck till you are dead! dead! dead!
Punch.—What! three times?
Hangman.—No; once will be enough. Place your head in the centre of this noose.
Punch.—Stop a bit; I haven’t made my will.
Hangman.—We can’t help that. Come, put your head in.
Punch (putting his head one side of the noose).—Where? There?
Hangman.—No; higher up.
Punch (putting his head over).—There?
Hangman.—No; lower down.
Punch.—Well, I never was hanged before, so how should I know how it’s done?
Hangman.—I suppose I must show you the way. Now, then, keep your eye on me. I put my head in the noose—so! (Puts his head in the noose.)
Punch.—Oh, like that, is it? (Pulls the rope tightly, and hangs the hangman.) Oee! oee! oee! I understand all about it. Root-to-too-it! Here’s a man tumbled into a ditch, and hung himself up to dry.
Hurra! hurra! I’ve done the trick!
Jack Ketch is dead, and Punch is free!
(Ghost rises, and taps Punch on the shoulders.)
Ghost.—You’re wanted.
Punch.—Oh, dear! oh, dear! What for?
Ghost.—In the other world, to answer for your misdeeds.
Punch.—Stop a bit! whom were you to ask for?
Ghost.—Why, Punch, the man who was to be hanged.
Punch—Oh, the man that was to be hanged; then that’s the gentleman you want! (Points to Hangman.)
Ghost.—Oh! I beg your pardon! Good night! (Carries off Hangman.)
Punch (hitting the sinking Ghost with the stick).—Good night! Pleasant journey to you! (Sings).
Root-to too-it! serves him right,
All my foes are put to flight;
Ladies and gentlemen all, good night,
To the freaks of Punch and Judy!
(Curtain falls.)