Statue. Yes! sculptors (h)ammer-us poor statues sadly;
Yet I ne'er felt it till an hour ago;
I stood, heigho! there in your stud-i-o,
Within a niche!
Pygmal.Speak on, oh form bewitching!
Statue. Standing the niche-in, straight I felt an itching;
Throughout my frame a feeling seemed to tingle,
Bade me go forth with human kind to mingle.
Pygmal. Oh, joy! 'twas life! and life you must go through with me.
Statue. Well, having made me, what d'ye mean to do with me?
Of course I can't disparage what you've done;
But say, can I dis parish claim upon?
Or must I trust of casual wards the mercy?
Have I a settlement, or vice versy?
Statue. Nay, as the matter stands,
It's not your arms—I'm left upon your hands.
What's to be done with me? I never sought
Into a human figure to be wrought.
You're great at figures; I, a wretched sad stone,
Know nought of figures—I'm far from a Glad-stone!
In the end, Psyche infuses soul into Galatea, and she and the sculptor understand each other.
In 1883 Mr. H. P. Stephens submitted to Gaiety audiences a one-act piece which he called "Galatea, or Pygmalion Re-versed." In this Galatea was the sculptor, and Pygmalion the statue; and with Miss Farren as the former, and Mr. Edward Terry as the latter, the result was eminently laughable. Cynisca, by the way, was turned into a man (Cyniscos), and was played by Elton.
Two mythological burlesques stand to the credit of Gilbert Abbott a'Beckett—"The Son of the Sun, or the Fate of Phaeton," played at the Fitzroy Theatre so long ago as 1834; and "The Three Graces," a two-act piece, seen at the Princess's in 1843, with Oxberry, Wright, and Paul Bedford in the cast. Both of these travesties are very smoothly and gracefully written, with fewer puns than the author afterwards permitted himself. "The Three Graces," moreover, is not very prolific in contemporary allusion; though here and there, as in the following passage, between the heroines—Aglaia, Thalia, and Euphrosyne—there is some gentle satire:—