A sort
of partial recognition takes place; which leaves the audience in a
dreadful state of suspense till the commencement of another act.
_Sir Philip_, who has formerly loved _Lady Blanche_ without success, now
tries his fortune with _Lady Anne_; and at this point, dramatic invention
ends; for, excepting the mock-marriage of _John Blount_ with a
lady's-maid, the rest of the play is occupied by the vicissitudes the two
pair of lovers go through--all of their own contrivance, on purpose to
make themselves as wretched as possible--till the grand clearing up, which
always takes place in every last scene, from the "Adelphi" of Terence (or
Yates), down to the "Old Maids" of Mr. Sheridan Knowles.
* * * * *
COCORICO, OR MY AUNT'S BANTAM.
Since playwrights have left off plotting and under-plotting on their own
account, and depend almost entirely upon the "French," managers have added
a new member to their establishments, and, like the morning papers, employ
a Paris correspondent, that French plays, as well as French eggs, may be
brought over quite fresh; though from the slovenly manner in which they
(the pieces, not the eggs) are too often prepared for the English market,
they are seldom _neat_ as imported.
The gentleman who "does" the Parisian correspondence for the Adelphi
Theatre, has supplied it with a vaudeville bearing the above title; the
fable, of which, like some of AEsop's, principally concerns a hen, that,
however, does not speak, and a smart cockscomb who does--an innocent
little fair who has charge of the fowl--a sort of _Justice Woodcock_, and
a bombardier who, because he is in the uniform of a drum or bugle-major,
calls himself a serjeant.
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