AT HIS MAYERJESTY'S.
Harlequinade.
Paris Fin de Siècle, Mr. Mayer's second transplantation from the Gymnase to Her Majesty's Theatre, is amusing from first to last—that is to say, from 8·15 to close on midnight. The Comedy rattles
along, and carries the audience who understand French—who in their turn carry the audience who pretend to do so, but who don't—with it. The acting is excellent; and the dialogue is as bright as the looks and toilettes of the dozen or more ladies who have parts. It is not quite clear what "fin de siècle" means. If it is Paris of to-day that is pictured, it certainly cannot be the Paris of five years hence, and the century has yet ten years to run. But whatever is the purpose of the play, it satisfied the audience which, on the first night, included H.R.H. and the Princess of Wales, together with "all London."
The plot is simple. Alfred de Mirandol (M. Noblet), of the tout Paris set, is engaged to the daughter of the Marquis de Boissy-Godet—so he tells everyone who chances to be breakfasting at Bignon's, where the first scene is laid—and, without anything particular happening to either of them during the next three Acts, he remains engaged to the young lady when the curtain falls. Then he has a non fin de siècle friend, fresh from Brittany, who proposes to a charming widow, charmingly looked and played by Madame Sisos, who accepts him, and lands him in a duel with a Spanish Duke (cleverly played by M. Paul Plan) about her Milliner's bill. No one is hurt, but the incident—the only incident to speak of—furnishes a scene in which the four fin de siècle seconds are continually forgetting the business on which they are met, and drift into baccarat. Then Madame Desclauzas is a Marquise who is so busy with her various charitable institutions that she has not seen her husband for a week, and forgets all about her daughter's marriage.
To London 1890 the Marquise, though unquestionably inimitable, seems slightly loud. English Marchionesses do not as a rule wink. But Paris Fin de Siècle is altogether beyond London 1890. English people do not know enough of the formalities attending the arrangement of duels to fully appreciate M. Noblet's forgetfulness of his duties; nor do English ladies, as yet, give Harlequin Balls, at which the gentlemen wear red evening coats,—it was not a hunt-ball of course; nor does London 1890 see any particular point in the monde being shown as frivolous and dissipated, while the demi-monde will not permit smoking in the drawing-room, and generally plays propriety. So Paris Fin de Siècle may be true to nature, for all English people know about it. Whether it is or is not, it is just as amusing, and well worth seeing.
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
James the First, of America, not to be confounded even by his enemies with the Old or Young Pretender, is bringing out his book entitled, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, which line represents only a third of the entire title.The celebrated Butterfly signature flitters and flutters from leaf to leaf throughout the book, which in itself, in its binding, print, and arrangement, is a work of Art of which the publishers, Messrs. Heinemann, may be justly proud, and which must rejoice the soul of James Primus Americanus, Ex-President, R.S.B.A.