work, which now marks the time of our
drama to be morning. Harlequin then stands
before a balcony, serenading Columbine, who
appears to him; but as he is climbing up, he
is surprised by Pantaloon, who comes out,
opening the door, and Harlequin pops in.
Hence a warm pursuit ensues of Columbine
and our hero by Pantaloon and his servant.
The next scene is of a house half-built, with
real scaffolding before it, and the men at
work upon it. Columbine retires behind a
pile of bricks; our hero mounts ladder;
Pantaloon follows; Harlequin descends, removes
ladder, and presently down comes the
scaffolding with men and all upon it. You
next come to a garden-wall; where as
Columbine retires under it. Harlequin is
turned into an old woman, and the scene
converted into a wall with ballads and
coloured wooden prints strung upon it, with
a large wicker chair, in which Harlequin
seats himself, supposed to be selling them.
The servant comes in and buys a ballad; and
here a slight satirical hint is levelled at the
song of ' I love Sue, and Sue loves me,'
introduced in the rival ' Harlequin Ranger' of the
other house. We have now a most delightful
perspective of a farm-house, whence you may
hear the coots in the water as at a distance.
Several rustics with their sweethearts come
on; and Mr. Lowe sings an excellent song,
to which all join in chorus—' To celebrate
harvest home.' This scene removed, a
constable comes on, with the bricklayers' men,
who have a warrant to take up Harlequin.
Then you have a distant view of a barley-mow
and barn; several swains dancing
before it, with Harlequin and Columbine.
The constable and followers opportunely
coming in, Columbine is seized, and carried
home by Pantaloon." (Here, by the way, we
are reminded of the policemen who come to
apprehend the Clown in modern
Pantomimes.) " When they are in the house, the
servant, after many dumb gestures, introduces
a large ostrich, which has a very good effect
upon the audience, but perhaps would have
a much greater, did not one discover by the
extremities that it is Harlequin, whose legs
and thighs appear under the body. Columbine
by this means discovers him; and,
after having made the whole house ring
with applause by playing several tricks
(such as kissing Columbine, biting the
servant, and the like,) they morrice off both
together.

"We are then carried to a back part of the
farm-house, which turns into a shed, where
in an instant you have the view of a copper
with a fire burning under it. Harlequin
changes himself into an old washer-woman,
and on striking a mound raised of flints mixed
with earth, it is immediately turned into a
washing-tub and stand; then, opening a door,
he shows us a horse with real linen upon it,
which is drawn out into many folds to a
considerable length upon the stage. Pantaloon
and servant come in, and after being sowsed
with the soap-suds, are driven off by the
supposed washerwoman with a bowl of boiling
water from the copper, to the no small
diversion of both galleries." (How often
have we seen similar pieces of practical
wit thus acknowledged in the upper
regions!) " But the constable at last catches
him; he tumbles down 'midst his guards,
and so slips away from them. We then see
a fence of boards, as before a building
(excellently well painted), which in a moment is
converted into a gilt equestrian statue.
Harlequin is discovered to bestride the horse by
his sneezing: Pantaloon's servant goes to
climb up by the head, which directly bends
its neck and bites him; he next tries to get
up by the hind leg, which in springing back
gives him a most terrible kick, and the poor
dog is carried off with his face all over blood,
and beaten to pieces.

"After this a scene drops, and gives us a
prospect of ruinous, rugged cliffs, with two
trees hanging over them, beautifully
executed." (This is the dark scene which
invariably precedes the conclusion, and wherein
we see Harlequin with a temporary deprivation
of his magical power.) "The witches
come in again, and, after singing awhile,
retire. Then Harlequin appears disconsolate
and prostrate upon a couch in an elegant
apartment. Lightning flashes; and four
devils, in flame-coloured stockings, mount
through trap-doors, surround him with their
double-tongued forks, and the whole stage,
with the scenery and all upon it, rises up
gradually, and is carried all together into the
air.

"Here the Pantomime ends; and the
scrupulous critic must not nicely inquire into the
reasons why Harlequin is carried upwards
into the infernal regions; as also why Pluto
and his fair Proserpina descend in a magnificent
throne, afterwards, into a fine pavilion.
After a song or two, an imp brings Pluto
word that poor Harley is trapped at last; but
the black-bearded monarch says everything
shall be jolly. Then the stage is extended to
a prodigious depth, closing with a prospect of
fine gardens and a temple." (This is what, in
our modern play-bill language, we should call
"The gardens of Delight and the Golden
Temple of Felicity in the Realms of
ever-beaming Radiance," or something to the same
effect.) " We are entertained awhile with the
agility of Messrs. Cook, Grandchamps, Miss
Billiard, Mademoiselle Camargo, and others;
then with a grand chorus; lastly with a low
bow from the performers;—and so down
drops the curtain."

Our necromancy is over. We have seen a
Pantomime of our ancestors; and our
prevailing impression is, that, with a few
differences of detail, it is in the main very like the
same description of performance in the
present day. There is not quite so much
uproarious fun; and we miss the spoken