“What various swains our motley walls contain! Fashion from Moorfields, honour from Chick-lane;
Bankers from Paper-buildings here resort,
Bankrupts from Golden-square and Riches-court;
From the Haymarket canting rogues in grain,
Gulls from the Poultry, sots from Water-lane;
The lottery cormorant, the auction shark,
The full-price master, and the half-price clerk;
Boys, who long linger at the gallery-door,
With pence twice live, they want but twopence more,
Till some Samaritan the twopence spares,
And sends them jumping up the gallery-stairs.
Critics we boast, who ne'er their malice baulk,
But talk their minds—we wish they'd mind their talk;
Big-worded bullies, who by quarrels live,
Who give the lie, and tell the lie they give;
Jews from St. Mary-Axe, for jobs so wary,
That for old clothes they'd even axe St. Mary;
And Bucks with pockets empty as their pate,
Lax in their gaiters, laxer in their gait.
Say, why these Babel strains from Babel tongues?
Who's that calls “Silence” with such leathern lungs?
He, who, in quest of quiet, “Silence” hoots,
Is apt to make the hubbub he imputes.”
 
IN a few minutes they entered Dolly's, from whence, after partaking of a cheerful repast and an exhilarating glass of wine, a coach conveyed them to Drury-lane. ',
“Now,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “I shall introduce you to a new scene in Real Life, well worth your close observation. We have already taken a promiscuous ramble from the West towards the East, and it has afforded some amusement; but our stock is abundant, and many objects of curiosity are still in view.”
“Yes, yes,” continued Sparkle, “every day produces novelty; for although London itself is always the same, the inhabitants assume various forms, as inclination or necessity may induce or compel. The Charioteer of [130]to-day, dashing along with four in hand, may be an inhabitant of the King's-bench to-morrow, and—but here we are, and Marino Faliero is the order of the night. The character of its author is so well known, as to require no observation; but you will be introduced to a great variety of other characters, both in High and Low Life, of an interesting nature.”
By this time they had alighted, and were entering the House. The rapid succession of carriages arriving with the company, the splendour of the equipages, the general elegance of the dresses, and the blazing of the lamps, alternately became objects of attraction to Bob, whose eyes were kept in constant motion—while “A Bill of the Play for Covent Garden or Drury Lane,” still resounded in their ears.
 Page130 Drury Lane Theatre
On arriving at the Box-lobby, Tom, who was well known, was immediately shewn into the centre box with great politeness by the Box-keeper,{1} the second scene of the Tragedy being just over. The appearance of the House was a delicious treat to Bob, whose visual orbs wandered more among the delighted and delightful faces which surrounded him, than to the plot or the progress of the performances before him. It was a scene of splendour of which lie had not the least conception; and Sparkle perceiving the principal objects of attraction, could not resist the impulse to deliver, in a sort of half-whisper, the following lines:—
“When Woman's soft smile all our senses bewilders,
And gilds while it carves her dear form on the heart,
What need has new Drury of carvers and gilders?
With nature so bounteous, why call upon art?
 
1 The Box-keeper to a public Theatre has many duties to
perform to the public, his employer, and himself; but,
perhaps, in order to be strictly correct, we ought to have
reversed the order in which we have noticed them, since of
the three, the latter appears to be the most important, (at
least) in his consideration; for he takes care before the
commencement of the performance to place one of his
automaton figures on the second row of every box, which
commands a good view of the House, who are merely intended
to sit with their hats off, and to signify that the two
first seats are taken, till the conclusion of the second
act; and so in point of fact they are taken by himself, for
the accommodation of such friends as he is quite aware are
willing to accommodate him with a quid pro quo.
 
How well would our Actors attend to their duties,
Our House save in oil, and our Authors in wit,
 
In lieu of yon lamps, if a row of young Beauties
Glanc'd light from their eyes between us and the Pit.
 
The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge
By Woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize,
 
To tempt us in Theatre, Senate, or College—
I mean the Love-apples that bloom in the eyes.
 
There too is the lash which, all statutes controlling,
Still governs the slaves that are made by the Fair,
 
For Man is the pupil who, while her eye's rolling,
Is lifted to rapture, or sunk in despair.”
 
[131]Tallyho eagerly listened to his friend's recitation of lines so consonant with his own enraptured feelings; while his Cousin Dashall was holding a conversation in dumb-show with some person at a distance, who was presently recognized by Sparkle to be Mrs. G——den,{1} a well-known frequenter of the House.
“Come,” said he, “I see how it is with Tom—you may rely upon it he will not stop long where he is, there is other game in view—he has but little taste for Tragedy fiction, the Realities of Life are the objects of his regard.
“Tis a fine Tragedy,” continued he, addressing himself to Tom.
“Yes—yes,” replied the other, “I dare say it is, but, upon my soul, I know nothing about it—that is—I have seen it before, and I mean to read it.”
“Bless my heart!” said a fat lady in a back seat, “what a noise them 'are gentlemen does make—they talk so loud there 'ant no such thing as seeing what is said—I wonder they don't make these here boxes more bigger, for I declare I'm so scrouged I'm all in a—Fanny, did you bring the rumperella for fear it should rain as we goes home?”
“Hush, Mother,” said a plump-faced little girl, who sat along side of her—“don't talk so loud, or otherwise every body will hear you instead of the Performers, and that would be quite preposterous.”
“Don't call me posterous Miss; because you have been to school, and learnt some edification, you thinks you are to do as you please with me.”
1 Mrs. G——den, a dashing Cyprian of the first order, well
known in the House, a fine, well-made woman, always ready
for a lark, and generally well togged.
[132]This interesting conversation was interrupted by loud vociferations of Bravo, Bravo, from all parts of the House, as the drop-scene fell upon the conclusion of the second act. The clapping of hands, the whistling and noise that ensued for a few minutes, appeared to astonish Tallyho. “I don't much like my seat,” said Dashall. “No,” said Sparkle, “I did not much expect you would remain long—you are a mighty ambitious sort of fellow, and I perceive you have a desire to be exalted.”
“I confess the situation, is too confined,” replied Tom—“come, it is excessively warm here, let us take a turn and catch a little air.”
The House was crowded in every part; for the announcement of a new Tragedy from the pen of Lord Byron, particularly under the circumstances of its introduction to the Stage, against the expressed inclination of its Author, the
1 At an early hour on the evening this Tragedy was first
pro-duced at Drury Lane, Hand-bills were plentifully
distributed through the Theatre, of which the following is a
copy:
 
“The public are respectfully informed, that the
representation of Lord Byron's Tragedy, The Doge of Venice,
this evening, takes place in defiance of the injunction from
the Lord Chancellor, which was not applied for until the
remonstrance of the Publisher, at the earnest desire of the
noble Author, had failed in protecting that Drama from its
intrusion on the Stage, for which it was never intended.”
 
This announcement had the effect of exciting public
expectation beyond its usual pitch upon such occasions. The
circumstances were somewhat new in the history of the Drama:
the question being, whether a published Flay could be
legally brought on the Stage without the consent, or rather
we should say, in defiance of the Author. “We are not aware
whether this question has been absolutely decided, but this
we do know, that the Piece was performed several nights, and
underwent all the puffing of the adventurous Manager, as
well as all the severity of the Critics. The newspapers of
the day were filled with histories and observations upon it.
No subject engrossed the conversation of the polite and
play-going part of the community but Lord Byron, The Doge of
Venice, and Mr. Elliston. They were all bepraised and
beplastered—exalted and debased—acquitted and condemned;
but it was generally allowed on all hands, that the printed
Tragedy contained many striking beauties, notwithstanding
its alleged resemblance to Venice Preserved. We are,
however, speaking of the acted Tragedy, and the magnanimous
Manager, who with such promptitude produced it in an altered
shape; and having already alluded to the theatrical puffing
so constantly resorted to upon all occasions, we shall drop
the curtain upon the subject, after merely remarking, that
the Times of the same day has been known to contain the
Manager's puff, declaring the piece to have been
received with  rapturous applause,   in  direct  opposition
to the  Editor's critique, which as unequivocally pronounced
its complete failure!
[133]will of its publisher, and the injunction{1} of the Lord Chancellor, were attractions of no ordinary nature; and
1 Injunction—The word injunction implies a great deal, and
has in its sound so much of the terrific, as in many
instances to paralyze exertion on the part of the supposed
offending person or persons. It has been made the instrument
of artful, designing, and malicious persons, aided by
pettifogging or pretended attorneys, to obtain money for
themselves and clients by way of compromise; and in numerous
instances it is well known that fear has been construed into
actual guilt. Injunctions are become so common, that even
penny printsellers have lately issued threats, and promised
actual proceedings, against the venders of articles said to
be copies from their original drawings, and even carried it
so far as to withhold (kind souls!) the execution of their
promises, upon the payment of a 5L. from those who were
easily to be duped, having no inclination to encounter the
glorious uncertainty of the law, or no time to spare for
litigation. We have recently been furnished with a curious
case which occurred in Utopia, where it appears by our
informant, that the laws hold great similarity with our own.
A certain house of considerable respectability had imported
a large quantity of Welsh cheese, which were packed in
wooden boxes, and offered them for sale (a great rarity in
Eutopia) as double Gloucester.
 
It is said that two of a trade seldom agree; how far the
adage may apply to Eutopia, will be seen in the sequel. A
tradesman, residing in the next street, a short time after,
received an importation from Gloucester, of the favourite
double production of that place, packed in a similar way,
and (as was very natural for a tradesman to do, at least we
know it is so here,) the latter immediately began to vend
his cheese as the real Double Gloucester. This was an
offence beyond bearing. The High Court of Equity was moved,
similar we suppose to our High Court of Chancery, to
suppress the sale of the latter; but as no proof of
deception could be produced, it was not granted. This only
increased the flame already excited in the breasts of the
first importers; every effort was made use of to find a good
and sufficient excuse to petition the Court again, and at
length they found out one of the craft to swear, that as the
real Gloucester had been imported in boxes of a similar
shape, make, and wood, it was quite evident that the
possessor must have bought similar cheeses, and was imposing
on the public to their great disadvantage, notwithstanding
they could not find a similarity either of taste, smell, or
appearance. In the mean time the real Gloucester cheese
became a general favourite with the inhabit-ants of Utopia,
and upon this, though slender ground, the innocent tradesman
was served with a process, enjoining him not to do that,
which, poor man, he never intended to do; and besides if he
had, the people of that country were not such ignoramuses as
to be so deceived; it was merely to restrain him from
selling his own real double Gloucester as their Welsh
cheeses, purporting, as they did, to be double Gloucester,
or of mixing them together (than which nothing could be
further from his thoughts,) and charging him at the same
time with having sold his cheeses under their name. But the
most curious part of the business was, the real cheeseman
brought the investigation before the Court, cheeses in boxes
were produced, and evidence was brought forward, when, as
the charges alleged could not be substantiated, the
restraint was removed, and the three importers of Welsh
cheese hung their heads, and retired in dudgeon.
[134]the Hon. Tom availed himself of the circumstance to leave the Box, though the truth was, there were other attractions of a more enlivening cast in his view.
“Come,” said he, “we shall have a better opportunity of seeing the House, and its decorations, by getting nearer to the curtain; besides, Ave shall have a bird's-eye view of the company in all quarters, from the seat of the Gods to the Pit.”
The influx of company, (it being the time of half-price), and the rush and confusion which took place in all parts at this moment, were indescribable. Jumping over boxes and obtaining seats by any means, regardless of politeness or even of decorum—Bucks and Bloods warm from the pleasures of the bottle—dashing Belles and flaming Beaux, squabbling and almost fighting—rendered the amusements before the curtain of a momentary interest, which appeared to obliterate the recollection of what they had previously witnessed. In the mean time, the Gods in the Gallery issued forth an abundant variety of discordant sounds, from their elevated situation. Growling of bears, grunting of hogs, braying of donkeys, gobbling of turkeys, hissing of geese, the catcall, and the loud shrill whistle, were heard in one mingling concatenation of excellent imitation and undistinguished variety: During which, Tom led the way to the upper Boxes, where upon arriving, he was evidently disappointed at not meeting the party who had been seen occupying a seat on the left side of the House, besides having sacrificed a front seat, to be now compelled to take one at the very back part of a side Box, an exchange by no means advantageous for a view of the performance. However, this was compensated in some degree by a more extensive prospect round the House; and his eyes were seen moving in all directions, without seeming to know where to fix, while Sparkle and Bob were attracted by a fight in the Gallery, between a Soldier and a Gentleman's Servant in livery, for some supposed [135]insult offered to the companion of the latter, and which promised serious results from the repeated vociferations of those around them, of “Throw 'em over—throw 'em over;” while the gifts of the Gods were plentifully showered down upon the inhabitants of the lower regions in the shape of orange-peelings, apples, &c. The drawing up of the curtain however seemed to have some little effect upon the audience, and in a moment the Babel of tongues was changed into a pretty general cry of “Down—down in the front—hats off—silence, &c. which at length subsided in every quarter but the Gallery, where still some mutterings and murmurings were at intervals to be heard.
“——one fiddle will
Produce a tiny flourish still.”
 
Sparkle could neither see nor hear the performance—Tom was wholly engaged in observing the company, and Bob alternately straining his neck to get a view of the Stage, and then towards the noisy inhabitants of the upper regions. “We dined at the Hummums,” said a finicking little Gentleman just below him—“Bill, and I, and Harry—drank claret like fishes—Harry was half-sprung—fell out with a Parson about chopping logic; you know Harry's father was a butcher, and used to chopping, so it was all prime—the Parson would'n't be convinced, though Harry knock'd down his argument with his knuckles on the table, almost hard enough to split it—it was a bang-up lark—Harry got in a passion, doff'd his toggery, and was going to show fight—so then the Parson sneak'd off—Such a bit of gig.'”
“Silence there, behind.”
“So then,” continued the Dandy, “we went to the Billiard-rooms, in Fleet Street, played three games, diddled the Flats, bilk'd the Marker, and bolted—I say, when did you see Dolly?"{1}
1 To the frequenters of Drury-lane Theatre, who occasionally
lounge away a little of their time between the acts in
sipping soda-water, negus, &c. the party here alluded to
cannot but be well known—we mean particularly the laffing-
boys and the lads of the village. We are aware that
fictitious names are assumed or given to the Ladies of
Saloon notoriety, originating in particular circum-stances,
and we have reason to believe that Dolly K——lly has been
so denominated from the propensity she almost invariably
manifests of painting, as remarked particularly by one of
the parties in conversation.
[136]"Last night,” replied the other—“she'll be here presently—d——nd fine girl, arn't she?”
“Very well,” said the first; “a nice plump face, but then she paints so d—n—bly, I hate your painted Dollys, give me natural flesh and blood—Polly H—ward for me.”
“Gallows Tom{1} will speak to you in plain terms if you trespass there, my boy; you know he has out-general'd the Captain in that quarter, and came off victorious, so——”
“Come,” said Sparkle, “let us adjourn into the Saloon, for, Heaven knows, it is useless staying here.” And taking their arms, they immediately left the Box.
“The theatre,” continued he, “is a sort of enchanted island, where nothing appears as it really is, nor what it should be. In London, it is a sort of time-killer, or exchange of looks and smiles. It is frequented by persons of all degrees and qualities whatsoever. Here Lords come to laugh and be laughed at—Knights to learn the amorous smirk and a-la-mode grin, the newest fashion in the cut of his garments, the twist of his body, and the adjustment of his phiz.
“This House{2} was built upon a grand and extensive scale, designed and executed under the inspection of Mr. Benj. Wyatt, the architect, whose skill was powerfully and liberally aided by an intelligent and public spirited Committee, of which the late Mr. Whitbread was the Chairman. It is altogether a master-piece of art, and an ornament to the Metropolis. You perceive the interior is truly delightful, and the exterior presents the idea of solidity and security: it affords sitting room for 2810 persons, that is, 1200 in the Boxes, 850 in the Pit, 480
1 It appears that the adoption of fictitious names is not
wholly confined to the female visitors of these regions of
fashion and folly. Gallows Tom is a character well known,
and is a sort of general friend, at all times full of fun,
fire, and spirit. We have not been able to discover whether
he holds any official situation under government, though it
is generally believed he is safely anchored under the croum,
a stanch friend to the British constitution—probably more
so than to his own. And we should judge from what is to be
inferred from the conversation overheard, that he is the
acknowledged friend of Miss H——d.   Capt. T——pe is
supposed to hold a Commission in the Navy, a gay and gallant
frequenter of the Saloon, and, till a short time back, the
chere ami of Miss H——d.
 
2 The building of this Theatre was completed for 112,000L.
Including lamps, furniture, &c. 125,000L.; and including
scent ry, wardrobe, properties, &c. 150,000L.
[137]in the Lower Gallery, and 280 in the Upper Gallery. The talents of the celebrated Mr. Kean (who has recently left us for the shores of the Atlantic) first blazed forth to astonish the world beneath this roof. Old Drury immortalized the name of Garrick, and has also established the fame of Mr. Kean; and the House at the present moment has to boast of a combination of histrionic{1} talent, rich and excellent.”
“Come along, come along,” said Tom, interrupting him, “leave these explanations for another opportunity—here is the Saloon. Now for a peep at old particulars. There is no seeing nor hearing the Play—I have no inclination for histories, I am just alive for a bit of gig.”
On entering the Saloon, Bob was additionally gratified at viewing the splendour of its decorations. The arched ceiling, the two massy Corinthian columns of vera antique, and the ten corresponding pilasters on each side, struck him as particularly beautiful, and he was for some moments lost in contemplation, while his friends Sparkle and Tom were in immediate request to receive the congratulations of their acquaintance.
“Where the d——l have you been to?” was the first question addressed to Dashall—“rusticating, I suppose, to the serious loss of all polished society.”
“You are right in the first part of your reply,” said Tom; “but, as I conceive, not exactly so in the inference you draw from it.”
“Modesty, by Jove! well done Dashall, this travelling appears to improve your manners wonderfully; and I dare say if you had staid away another month, your old friends would not have known you.”
This created a laugh among the party, which roused Bob from his reverie, who, turning round rather hastily, trod with considerable force upon the gouty toe of an old debauchee in spectacles, who, in the height of ecstasy, was at that moment entering into a treaty of amity with a pretty rosy-faced little girl, and chucking her under the
1 The names of Elliston, Pope, Johnston, Powell, Dowton,
Munden, Holland, Wallack, Knight, T. Cooke, Oxberry, Smith,
Bromley, &c. are to be found on the male list of Performer............