LISTENING TO THE GENTLE KOOEN.
Maid Marian is "a Comic Opera in Three Acts," at least so I gather from the title-page of the book and from the programme of the Prince of Wales's Theatre; though where the comicality comes in, except occasionally with Mr. MONKHOUSE, it would require Sam Weller's "pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas microscopes of hextra power" to detect. Mr. LE HAY, too, has nothing like the opportunity which was given him in Prince Bulbo. Now, when in a so-called Comic Opera your two principal low comedians have very little to do, say, or sing, and when that little is not of a particularly side-splitting character, and when the plot is not replete with comic situations, such a work must depend for its success on the freshness of its melodies, on the popularity of its artistes, and on the excellence of its mise-en-scène.
As to the last of these essentials, if, perhaps, it is not so brilliantly placed on the stage as some other shows have been, yet there is plenty of Harrisian movement, due always to the devices in stage-management of CHARLES of that ilk, who certainly knows how to keep the Chorus moving and the game alive generally.
The yet existing admirers of the once enormously popular composer, OFFENBACH, among whom I certainly include myself, will be much gratified by the delicately introduced reminiscences of the work of that master of opéra bouffe which occasionally crop up during the performance of Maid Marian. If it be permissible for great Masters to repeat themselves, as notably more than one has done, may not little Masters exhibit the results of their profound studies in the schools of popular Composers? Surely they may; and was I not pleased with Mr. DE KOOEN (whose name seems to suggest "the voice of the turtle,"—the dove, not the soup) when his prelude to the Third Act distinctly recalled to my attentive mind the celebrated unison effect in L'Africaine, only without the marvellous jump, which, when first heard, thrilled the audience, and compelled an enthusiastic encore? Then Miss VIOLET CAMERON sang a song about the bells, with a chorus not in the least like that in Les Cloches de Corneville you understand, because the latter, I think, is performed without the bells sounding, but in this there is a musical peal which intensifies the distinction between the two. This "number" was encored heartily, nay, I think it was demanded three times, and came just at the right moment to freshen up the entertainment. In the previous Act Miss ATTALIE CLAIRE had had a good song which had also obtained an encore, thoroughly well deserved as far as her singing was concerned.
I forget what Mr. COFFIN had to sing, but, whatever it was, he did it more than justice, as did also the basso profondo, whose efforts in producing his voice from, apparently, his boots, were crowned with remarkable success.
The Friar Tuck here is a kind of good old-fashioned burlesque Friar, more like that one some years ago at the Gaiety, in Little Robin Hood than the Friar in Ivanhoe. But I should say that this Friar would be uncommonly thankful to have got anything like the song that Sir ARTHUR has given his Friar over the way, or something even as good as Mr. DALLAS had to sing, years ago, in REECE's Gaiety Burlesque. However, perhaps it was not intended for a singing part, and perhaps the actor who plays it is not a professional singer. We're not all of us born with silver notes in our chests.
I see that Mr. HORACE SEDGER announces the drama in action, entitled L'Enfant Prodigue, which recently made such a hit in Paris. Wonder how it will go here. Not knowing, can't prophesy.
PRIVATE BOX.