Mr. Burnand's "Julius Cnæsar" made the walls of the Royalty resound with laughter in the autumn of 1870. In the spring of 1869 William Brough had brought out at the Strand his version of the tale of Joan of Arc, whom he represented as the leader of a troop of Amazons, extremely interested in Woman's Rights. She comes, as in history, to the French king's assistance; but, falling in love with a young English soldier, is captured by the invaders and condemned to resume female attire,—a sentence which in the end she manages to evade. A leading part is played by the Duke of Burgundy, who is for ever uncertain on which side he shall fight, and whose name provides frequent opportunity for punning. Thus:—
Dunois. See, Burgundy comes!
King.Is he indeed with me?
As a rule Burgundy ne'er yet agreed with me.
He says he is my friend!
Duchatel.Well, that's a thumper!
The name of Burgundy suggests a bumper!
La Hire. He comes!
King (looking off). With what a swagger, too! It's clear
Burgundy doesn't think himself small beer!
Again:—
Lionel. Then, my lord, Burgundy, with all his train,
Will join our ranks.
Talbot.My plans are changed again!
He'll lick the foe in no time—if not quicker!
Burgundy's such a very potent licker!
Strengthened by him, war's hardest blows we'll mock—
With a strong Burgundy, despise a knock.
Here, too, is a clever bit of word-play:—