Next Night—covent Garden.—Here they saw the Pantomime of Blue Beard. As each new Scene presented itself to their view, they were vehemently enraptured, and thought that no expression of praise could suffice to express their pleasure.
Mr. Barlow. Certainly the scenery is very beautiful.
Harry. The ladies are indeed lovely!
Mr. Barlow. They are mortal.
Tommy. O, here is Blue Beard's procession! I know the story! And here are the Camels, and—O!—a White Elephant!
Mr. Barlow. The Camel, my dear Tommy, is found chiefly in burning climates. In his temper he is gentle and tractable, and his patience in being——
Audience. Hush! Order! Turn him out!
Harry. Indeed, Sir, they are alluding to you! Would it not be better to remain silent, and watch a Scene which gives everyone so much gratification?
Mr. Barlow perceived the sense of this remark, and confined himself to explaining to Tommy, in an undertone, that Mr. Macdermott, who played Blue Beard, had been, till lately, an actor at the Grecian Theatre, where he was considered "funny;" but that here his humour seemed to be limited to an imitation of one Mr. Clarke, an actor of burlesque parts most favourably known to playgoers; and, indeed, the audience seemed to be largely of Mr. Barlow's mind, for it was not until Mr. Blue Beard danced, which he did cleverly, that they testified their approbation of his drolleries.