Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics!'[4]
"The statutes next call upon the matriculating candidate to swear that he will keep aloof from all rope-dancers and actors, and from the strifes and shows of—gladiators! (Item quod, intra Universitatem Oxoniensem aut Præcinctum, absque speciali veniá Vice-Cancellarii, nec Funambuli nec Histriones, qui quæstús causâ in Scenam prodeunt, nec Gladiatorum certamina sive spectacula permittantur; nec Academici eisdem intersint.) Good gracious, Mr. Punch! is this the nineteenth century—is Punch an institution of our land; have we got a Camp at Chobham, and a Fleet at Spithead, or are we Rip Van Winkles in an inverse degree, who have slept backwards into the past? My brain is fairly muddled, Sir, with the thought that I am about to send my son Peterloo to a place which I had fondly imagined to be the centre of all enlightenment, and which I now find retains the barbarities of the darkest ages. I don't object to the rope-dancers and actors—although I might perhaps be inclined to ask why Shakspeare, and Sheridan, and Bulwer-Lytton should be condemned as improper; and Plautus, Terence, and Juvenal decided to be the only pure and proper dramatic guides of youth—I don't object, I say, to my lad going to see the rope-dancing and acting, but I do decidedly object to his even having a chance of obtaining 'the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor' to be present at such degrading exhibitions as the 'sports of the Gladiators.' I shudder to think (and so does Mrs. Brown, Sir), that my lad, who has been so carefully brought up, will really 'see before him the Gladiator lie, his manly form all cover'd o'er with wounds;' and that he will, perhaps—(I can assure you, Sir, that Mrs. Brown is obliged to have recourse to her smelling salts at the bare thought of such horrors)—that he will perhaps set his own slave (or scout) to fight for his amusement, and, like those frightful Romans that he is obliged to read about, will be turning up his thumbs to give the dreadful signal for his wretched servant's death! I must really pause a moment to recover my equanimity. Yet a bright thought strikes me! Perhaps, after all, Mr. Punch, these gladiatorial exhibitions are only intended to assist the students in their classical pursuits, the mind being, we know, often more speedily instructed through an appeal to the eye. And this idea is supported by the words of the Statute that the Students must not be present at such shows without the special permission of the Vice-Chancellor. For, of course, if there are no gladiatorial exhibitions in Oxford, the candidates for matriculation would not be required to take oaths about them.
Nobody must hunt wild beasts.
"It would fatigue both you and me, Mr. Punch (weakened as I feel by these gladiatorial prospects), were I to make more lengthy observations on the Oxford Statutes; for the subject is so copious, that it would take me some time to travel through all the Statutum ests, and stop at each. Yet I think I have told you enough about them to enable you to give me your valuable opinion on the propriety and wisdom of suffering my son Peterloo to enter an university, to the privileges of which he will only be admitted on the condition that he swears to observe all the foregoing Statutes, and a host of others, to the utmost of his power: 'Scito te,' says the Vice-Chancellor, as he gives the young man a copy of the book which I have now been considering, 'Scito te in matriculam Universitatis hodie relatum esse, sub hac conditione, sempe, ut omnia Statuta, hoc libro comprehensa, pro virili observes.'
"But I will add one word in favour of a few more Statutes of this 'Tit. XV.' I am glad to see that, while my son will not be permitted to draw a weapon upon another, or threaten him with a knife, dagger, sword, or other species of weapon (cultellum, pugionem, gladium, aut aliquot aliud genus teli aut distrinxerit, aut intentaverit, cum minis, &c.), yet, that he will be allowed to bear a bow and arrow for the sake of honest recreation (qui honestæ recreationis causá arcus cum sagittis portaverint), and will not be suffered to ride in, or be the charioteer of, any vehicle, unless he is permitted to do so by the Proctors or the Heads of his College, on account of his infirm health, or some other reasonable cause (nisi cui propter infirmam valetudinem aut rationabilem aliquam causam licentia, &c.). And yet, Mr. Punch, why does young Bellingham Grey tell me tales of Traps, and Dog-carts, and Tandems, and Teams? Have all their charioteers infirm health? or has that young gentleman, in this as in other things, been practising upon the credulity of
"Dear Mr. Punch,
"Your constant reader,
Peterloo Brown."
[4] "Tragedy of Remorse." Act ii., Scene I.