_Tuesday, July 4. State Visit to the Opera._--Yes, "TODGERS'S could do
it when it liked," as CHARLES DICKENS remarked in _Martin Chuzzlewit_,
and Sir COVENTGARDENSIS DRURIOLANUS can do it when _he_ likes, rather!
The front of the house is quite a "mask of flowers," which the
Master of the Gray's Inn Revels, himself present in a gorgeous and
awe-inspiring uniform, regards with a benign and appreciative smile.
Interesting to note a number of ordinarily quiet and unobtrusive
individuals, personally known to me as the mildest-mannered men,
who now appear as the fiercest, and, on such a night, the hottest of
warriors; seeing that if it is 98 in the shade, the temperature must
be ten degrees higher to those who are buttoned up to the chin in a
military uniform, with straps, belts, buckles, boots, weighted
too with a dangling, clattering sword, and having to carry about a
thickly-furred hat, with a plume in it like a shaving-brush, that
obstinately refuses to be hung up, or sat upon, or put out of sight,
in any sort of way whatever, and which, like a baby in arms, must be
carried,--or dropped. The Venetians on the stage in all their mediaeval
bravery are not arrayed like one of these simple English yeomen, for,
as I am given to understand, to that glorious body of our country's
agricultural defenders do these dashing Hussars, in their Hessian-fly
boots, belong! Ah! with such warriors England is safe!
[Illustration: "Pas de Druriolanus; or, All among the Roses."]
Then there are what _Mr. Weller_ would have termed "My Prooshan
Blues," and likewise the diplomatic Muscovite, in hard-looking cap,
blue, naval-looking coat, and (apparently) flannel boating trousers,
falling, rather short, on to ordinary boots, with plain unornamental
spurs; a costume which, on the whole, suggests that its wearer, at
the command of the Autocrat of all the Russias, must be ready at a
second's notice to execute a forced march, dance a hornpipe, run as
a footman, take somebody up as a policeman, head a cavalry charge, or
(still in spurs) steer a torpedo boat on its dangerous errand. Opera
going strong, with the DE FRISKY Bros. & Co. The Last Act (by Royal
Command) is omitted, and so for the first time in dramatic history the
story of _Romeo and Juliet_ ends as happily as possible. The lovers
are only interrupted by the fall of the curtain, and there are no
sleeping draughts, poisonings, or burials. It is a realisation of the
line in _The Critic_, "In the Queen's name I charge you all to drop
your swords and daggers!" Only the order is given in the Princess's
name, and the swords, daggers, and deadly draughts are all dropped
accordingly. Greatest possible success. _Gloria_ DRURIOLANO!
_Friday Night._--First performance of _I Rantzau_, and first-rate
performance, too. The Plot is simply a Plot of Land. Scene laid--laid
for seven _dramatis personae_--in a Vague Village of the Vosges; time,
present century. The Rantzaus are the Capulets and Montagues of this
district; the son of one faction is in love with the daughter of the
other; but it doesn't end tragically, and the lovers marry. That's
all. It was played as a Drama at the Francais, with GOT in it; when
subsequently it was turned into an Opera, it had the "Go" taken out of
it. DE LUCIA, ANCONA, CASTELMARY, BISPHAM, and CORSI doing their very
best, as do also the lamplighter and his assistant, who deftly perform
their "Wagnerian watchman" "business" to characteristic music. Mlle.
BAUERMEISTER great in a small part; and Madame MELBA does her very
best with the singularly uninteresting part of _Luisa_, who is a very
"Limited Loo." Signor MASCAGNI conducted the Opera, and was himself
conducted on to the stage as often as possible in order to receive
the congratulations of his "friends in front." _I Rantzau_ not "in it"
with MASCAGNI'S _Cavalleria_, which, like the Rantzau family at the
end of the piece, "still holds the field." Thermometer 95 deg. in the
stalls. House animated and appreciative.
_Saturday._--_Les Huguenots._ Grand Cast. Thermometer down again.
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