The author of this farce hath placed himself in the first section of the
second chapter of that treatise on "Dramatic Casualties" which hath helped
to make "Punch" the oracle of wit and of wisdom he has become to the
entire intelligence of the land, from the aristocracy upwards[2]. In this
instance he is truly one who "writeth a farce or comedy and neglecteth to
introduce jokes in the same." But this we hope will prove a solitary
instance of such neglect; for when he next inditeth, may he show that he
is not the "Wrong Man" to write a good piece; although alas, he appeared
on Saturday last to be exactly the right man for penning a bad one.
[2] Punch, No. 11 page 131.
When a playwright produces a plot whose incidents are just within the
possibilities, and far beyond the probabilities, of this life, it is said
to be "ingenious," because of the crowd of circumstances that are huddled
into each scene. According to this acceptation, the "Wrong Man" would be a
highly ingenious farce; if that may be called a farce from which the
remotest semblance of facetiæ is scrupulously excluded. Proceed we,
therefore, to an analysis of the fable with becoming gravity.
At the outset we are introduced to a maiden lady in (_horresco referens!_)
her private apartment; but to save scandal, the introduction is not made
without company--there is also her maid. _Patty Smart_, although not a new
servant, has chosen that precise moment to inform her mistress concerning
the exact situation of her private circumstances, and the precise state of
her heart. She is in love: it is for _Simon Tack_ that the flame is kept
alive; he, a dapper upholder, upholds her affections. At this point, a
triangular note is produced, which plainly foretells a dishonourable
rival. You are not deceived; it proposes an assignation in that elysium of
bachelors and precipice of destruction for young ladies, the Albany.
Wonderful to relate, it is from _Miss Thomasina Fringe's_ nephew, _Sir
Bryan Beausex_. The maiden dame is inconceivably shocked; and to show her
detestation of this indelicate proposal, agrees to personate _Patty_ and
keep the appointment herself, for the pleasure of inflicting on her nephew
a heap of mortification and a moral lecture. _Mr. Tack_ is the next
appearance: being an upholsterer, of course he has the run of the house,
so it is not at all odd to find him in a maiden lady's boudoir; the more
especially as he enters from behind his natural element--the window
curtains.
It is astonishing with what pertinacity the characters in most farces will
bore one with their private affairs when they first appear! In this
respect _Sir Bryan Beausex_, in the next scene, is quite as bad as _Patty_
was in the former one. He seems to have invited four unoffending victims
to dine at his chambers in the Albany, on purpose to inform them that in
his youth he was betrothed to a girl whom he has never since seen; but
what that has to do with telling his guests to be off, because he expects
a charming little lady's-maid at six, his companions are doubtless puzzled
to understand. One of them, however, is _Beechwood_--a very considerably
diluted edition of _Jerry Bumps_ in "Turning the Tables"--who determines
to revenge this early turn-out by a trick upon the inhospitable host, and
goes off to develop it--to commence, in fact, the farce.
_Sir Bryan Beausex_ is waiting with impatience the arrival of _Patty_,
when his servant enters with a letter, which he says has been just
delivered by a servant, who galloped up to the door on a horse--an
extraordinary clever hack, we should say; for, to perform this feat, he
must have broken through a porter's lodge, galloped over a smooth
pavement, and under a roof so low, that Lord Burghersh can only traverse
it with his hat off. We should like to see a horse-race in the Albany
avenue! The letter thus so cavalierly brought, contains news of an
accident that has happened to _Miss Fringe_, and summons _Beausex's_
immediate presence. Off he goes, and on comes _Beechwood_ with a "Ha! ha!
ha!, fairly hoaxed," and all that; which is usually laughed and said by
hoaxers _of_ hoaxees.
It has happened that _Mr. Tack_, the upholsterer, having had a peep at the
contents of the cocked-hat billet, addressed to Mistress _Smart_,
conceives a violent fit of jealousy, and having also _Beausex's_ custom,
has the range of his house as well as that of _Miss Fringe_. So by this
time we naturally find him behind _Sir Bryan's_ window-curtains, to
witness the interview between him and the future _Mrs. Tack_; that is to
say, if she prove not false.
Things approach to a crisis. _Miss Fringe_ enters, but brings with her
_Alice_, the young lady whose infant heart was betrothed to _Beausex_.
She, taking the place of _Patty Smart_, goes through a dialogue with
_Beechwood_ instead of _Beausex_; and we now learn that the former
christens the farce, he being the "Wrong Man." Somewhere near this point
of the story the first act ends.
The second act is occupied in clearing up the mistakes which the audience
know all about already; but those among them who had, up to about the
middle of it, been waiting with exemplary patience for the jokes, began to
get tired of having nothing to laugh at, and hissed. Despite these noisy
drawbacks, however, we were able to find out that _Beausex_ loses his
cousin _Alice_ and her fortune (a regular farce fortune--some five or six
hundred thousand pounds or so); for she falls in love with _Beechwood_,
and _vice versa_. _Tack_ and _Patty Smart_ are rendered happy; but what
really becomes of _Beausex_ and his aunt the sibilants forbad our knowing.
We suppose, by Mr. Bartley's pantomime, that _Sir Bryan_ puts up with his
hoax and his lady-loss with a good grace; for he flourished about his
never-absent pocket-handkerchief with one hand, shook hands with _Miss
Fringe_ with the other, stepped forward, did some more dumb show to the
dissentients, and, with the rest of the actors, bowed down the curtain.
We perceive by the Times that the author of the "Wrong Man" is not so very
culpable after all. He is guiltless of the plot; that being taken from a
French piece called "Le Tapissier."
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