THE PLAYS AND SHOWS.
| Manager DALY found Frou Frou so popular, that he has given us a second dose of M. SARDOU'S Dramatic Mixture, three times stronger than the first, and warranted to restore the moral tone of all repentant Pretty Waiter Girls. The label borne by the new Mixture is "Fernande," but as "CLOTILDE," and not "FERNANDE," is the principal ingredient, the name is obviously ill-selected. Though the materials were imported from the celebrated Parisian laboratory of M. SARDOU, the Mixture in its present form was prepared "in vacuo" by two dramatic chemists of this city, and ought properly to bear their name. As compared with Frou Frou, it is much more palatable, and far more powerful, and there is no reason to suppose that it contains anything deleterious to the moral health of the play-goer. An analysis made by order of PUNCHINELLO shows that it consists of the following materials, combined in the following proportions: |
ACT I.--Scene, a Gambling-House. Enter M. POMMEROL, a benevolent lawyer.
POMMEROL. "I am a lawyer with an enormous practice. Having nothing whatever to do, I came here to find FERNANDE, the pretty waiter girl. Here comes my cousin CLOTILDE. She is an angel of virtue and the mistress of my friend ANDRE. What can she want here?"
CLOTILDE. "My carriage has just run over a young girl, who lives here. As the horses trampled upon her for some time, I came to see if she had sustained any inconvenience."
POMMEROL. "CLOTILDE, this girl is named FERNANDE. She is as bad as she can well be, therefore I implore you to take her home with you and adopt her. Will you do it?"
CLOTILDE. "Of course I will. Who could refuse such a trifling request! But look, here come the people of the house."
Enter various gamblers and disreputable women, who conduct themselves with appropriate freedom from the restraints of conventionality. FERNANDE, who is too lachrymose to be a cheerful feature, is wisely placed on guard at the outer door. The company proceed to play at faro, the bank being the loser. There is a false alarm of police, and the game is suddenly stopped. The Banker, being naturally indignant, attempts to relieve his mind by punching FERNANDE's head. Heroic interference by POMMEROL, and consequent tableau. Curtain.
SATIRICAL PERSON, to one of the ushers. "Will you tell me what street this house is in?"
USHER. "Twenty-fourth street, sir."
SATIRICAL PERSON. "All right. You see I came up in a University Place car, and I was beginning to think, after having seen that last scene, that I had made a mistake, and gone down town instead of up town."
RESPECTABLE LADY, to female friend. "Isn't it shockingly improper! But then it is so interesting, and it is really one's duty to know how those creatures conduct themselves when they are at home."
ACT II.--Scene, CLOTILDE's Garden. CLOTILDE soliloquizes as follows:
CLOTILDE. "I have adopted FERNANDE and shall call her MARGUERITE. ANDRE has deceived me, and I will test his love at once." (Enter ANDRE.)
CLOTILDE. "ANDRE, I think we have made a mistake in fancying ourselves in love. Would you like to leave me?"
ANDRE. "My dearest friend, I really think I should. You see I have just fallen in love with an innocent little angel. By Jove! there she is. Tell me her name."
CLOTILDE. "That is MARGUERITE, a protegé of mine. You shall marry her. Go and make love to her." (He goes.)
CLOTILDE. "The base wretch deserts me. I will proceed to become a tigress. I will marry him to FERNANDE, and then tell him what a base wretch she is. We'll see how he will like that. He thinks her innocent! Ha! ha! (Aside.--On reflection she is innocent according to this version of the play; but SARDOU told the truth about her, and I will act on the supposition that she is a wretch.) That will be a fit revenge, and I can't do better than rave about it for a while." (Raves accordingly until the curtain falls.)
COLD-BLOODED CRITIC. "I have never seen a finer piece of acting than that of Miss MORANT in the last scene. But then her revenge becomes absurd when you reflect that FERNANDE is just what ANDRE fancies her, an innocent girl. That is a fair specimen of the way in which American writers adapt French plays. They sacrifice probability to prudery."
FASHIONABLE LADY. "How sweetly penitent FERNANDE looks in her black dress. I hope she will be innocent enough to wear white in the next act. One shouldn't give way to repentance or grief for too long a time. Now when my husband died I was in the deepest grief for six months, and then slipped into half mourning so gradually that no one noticed the change."
ACT III. FERNANDE and CLOTILDE are discovered discussing the question of FERNANDE's wedding outfit.
FERNANDE. "But does ANDRE know how naughty I behaved when I was an innocent girl in a gambling-house?"
CLOTILDE. "He does, my dear, but you mustn't speak of it to him,"
FERNANDE. "I will write to him then, and confess all. There isn't anything to confess, but still I am determined to confess it."
CLOTILDE. "Write if you choose. (Aside. I will put the letter in a lamp-post box, so that he will never get it. On second thought I will keep it. Some day I might want to use it.")
FERNANDE writes the letter and CLOTILDE confiscates it. ANDRE, POMMEROL and a variety of people come and go and talk of a variety of things. Finally FERNANDE and ANDRE are led out to marriage, and the dread ceremony is perpetrated. Curtain.
The fourth act opens with a pleasant family party at the house of the newly married couple. The company play at that singular game of cards so popular on the stage, in which everybody plays out of turn, and nobody ever takes a trick. Finally they all go to bed except ANDRE, who goes to sleep in his chair, as is doubtless the custom with newly-married Frenchmen. Presently CLOTILDE enters through a secret door and wakes him up.
ANDRE. "My dear CLOTILDE, you really mustn't. Think what my wife would say. So innocent an angel would suspect there was something wrong in your visiting me at midnight."
CLOTILDE. "Base villain, you have deserted me. Now I am revenged. Your wife was once a pretty waiter-girl and her name is FERNANDE. Call her and ask her if I speak the truth." (He calls her.)
ANDRE. "Is your name FERNANDE? Ah, I see by the disorder of your back hair that CLOTILDE's story is too true. Wretched girl, why did you not tell me all before I married you?"
FERNANDE. "Spare me. I was a pretty waiter-girl, but I wrote you a letter and confessed my innocence."
(She faints on a worsted ottoman, while her husband raves like an OTTOMAN who has been worsted in a difficulty with an intruder into his harem.) Enter POMMEROL.
POMMEROL. "She speaks the truth. Here is her written confession. I took it out of CLOTILDE's pocket. I will read it." (Reads it.)
FERNANDE. "You hear it? I confessed all my innocence. If you did not get it, blame the post-office authorities, but do not throw the poker at me."
ANDRE. "FERNANDE! My love! My wife! Come back, and I will forgive your innocence!" (Tableau.) Curtain.
RESPECTABLE MATRON. "Well, I will say that of all indecent plays this is the worst. It isn't half as nice as that pretty Frou-Frou. The idea of that miserable ANDRE forgiving such a hussy as his wife!"
From which virtuous and venomous opinion the undersigned begs to differ. The play is simply superb, in spite of the faults of the translation. It is shocking only to the most prurient of prudes; and in point of morality is infinitely better than Frou-Frou. And then it is played as it ought to be. Miss MORANT is magnificent, Mr. LEWIS is immensely funny, and Messrs. CLARKE and HASKINS are equal to whatever is required of them. If Frou-Frou ran a hundred nights, Fernande ought to run five hundred. And that it may is the sincere hope of
MATADOR.