Jarp. No, by Gad!
[Exeunt omnes.
THE SHREWING OF THE TAME.
Dear Mr. Punch,
Mr. F. R. Benson deserves commendation for a new idea. Shakspeare has been presented in many forms, but the notion of giving the Bard without any acting to speak of is a novelty. And it is not quite certain that it is a mistake. After all, a bad actor is an infliction, and it is better to have gentlemen who have not spent centuries in mastering the intricacies of their profession than a noisy personage who tears his passions to atoms. The recent revivals of A Midsummer Night's Dream and the Taming of the Shrew at the Globe Theatre show how pleasing Shakspearian representations may be made, even when their success depends less upon elocution than scenic effect. The first of these plays was simply delightful, with its fairy glades and "built-up" temples. The last, too, is well off for "cloths," pleasingly representing Padua and Verona. The performers (with the exception of Mr. Stephen Phillips, who speaks his lines with admirable effect) are not so noticeable. One of the best-played parts in the piece is filled by an actor whose name does not appear in the programme. He has nothing to do but to carry off Katherina (Mrs. F. R. Benson), in Sc. 5., Act III., on his back. That he looks like an ass while doing this goes without saying, but still he is a valuable addition to the cast. From an announcement in the programme, it appears that Othello, Hamlet, and the Merchant of Venice are shortly to be played. It seems at the first blush a difficult task to pick out of Mr. Benson's present company a gentleman quite suited to fill the title rôles in the two first, and Shylock in the last. But, no doubt, the Lessee and Manager thinks the playing of the characters of the Prince of Denmark and the Moor a matter of minor importance. And, if he does, it may be argued, from the cordial reception that has been accorded to A Midsummer Night's Dream and the Taming of the Shrew, that he has an excellent reason for his opinion.
Believe me, yours truly,
One who is Easily Pleased.
HOW TO MEET IT.
Sir,—Having read all the letters that have appeared in the papers suggesting a treatment for the prevailing epidemic, I have got, perhaps, a little confused; but, on the whole, the following is the course, as far as I can make out, that it would be prudent to pursue on finding oneself threatened with any of the well-known symptoms. Immediately get into a warm bath several degrees hotter than you can possibly bear it, then get out again. Now go to bed, send for your family solicitor, and make your will, meantime trying every half hour half a tumbler or so of any patent medicine the advertisement of which occurs to you. Call in a homœopathic doctor, and give his system a turn for four-and-twenty hours; then send for your own medical man. Take care that they do not meet on the stairs. Take anything and everything he gives you for the next eight-and-forty hours, interspersing his prescriptions with frequent tumblers of hot and steaming ammoniated quinine-and-water, getting down at the same time more beef tea, oysters, champagne, muffins, mince-pies, oranges, nuts, and whiskey than, under ordinary circumstances, you feel would be good for you. Continue the above treatment for a couple of months. This is what I am going to try, if I am down with it. As I said above, it is, if a little complicated, sure to be all right, for I have got every item of it from a careful perusal of those infallible guides and directors in all modern difficulties and doubts,