THE ANCIENT MELODRAMA. IN DUNEDIN.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 1049, 1 May 1865, Page 5

THE ANCIENT MELODRAMA. IN DUNEDIN.

It was but a night or two ago that, strolling into' the Theatre, as is my customary wont, I, in company with sorae hundreds of human units, was present at an entertainment which will live in my recollection for many weeks to come. The entertainment consisted, according to the playbill of " the sensational canine drama, entitled The Forest ol Bondy, or The Dog of Montargis," with an announcement that this was the first appearance of the celebrated and highly trained Dog, Leo. Entertaining as I did some vague idea of the respectability and importance of The Forest of Bondy as one of the most esteemed relics of the ancient drama, I was delighted at the opportunity of witnessing its representation, and after ascertaining that there were in the play, a colonel, a seneschal, a captain, a couple of lieutenants, a low comedy servant,, a Dumb Boy in love with an innkeeper's daughter, and an innkeeper's daughter in love with a Dumb Hoy, I settled myself comfortably in my seat to watch the rising of the curtain, which revealed a Garden, belonging to the Inn, wherein preparation are being made for a wedding festival. These preparations are in honor of The Dumb Boy nnd Ursula, the Innkeeper's Daughter, an attractive young lady-with a great deal too much to say tor herself. The reflection forces itself upon me that this highly estimable young female is throwing herself away by marrying a young gentleman, whe, being dumb, is unable to express his feelings in any language, alive or dead, bat my doubts are set at rest by the young lady herself, who, in a speech which meets with a volley of applause, declares that she loves Eloi because he is good, because he is mild, because he is kind, because he is obliging, and because ho is brimful with virtues of the same milk-and-watery character. How Eloi the Dumb Boy intends to support his bride alter marriage fills me with some apprehension, for in his state of celibacy he does not appear to be of any particular trade or profession, but evidently gets his living by walking about the village without any coat or waistcoat, clad in shivering cold silk tights and a pair of thin cotton drawers, which barely cover his knees. After a little pleasantry with the low comedy man (I know he is the low comedy man, because he wears a carroty wig), the military makes its appearance in the shape of Captain Aubri (the Good Young Man), Lieutenants Macaire, and Landra (first and second Villians), and five or six soldiers of the regiment, all dressed differently to add variety to the scene. Another officer, who goes by the name of Louis, also appears, but as he ia a decidedly insignificant personage both in and out of the drama, and squints horribly, I pass him by with brief notice-. The two lieutenants bear a fearful animosity to Aubri, who has had a captaincy bestowed upon him, while they have only been presented with sashes, and express a desire to be revenged upon him. A banquet being served up, consisting of a loaf of bread and a pasteboard representation of grapes and apples, the gue-:ts Hit round the very small table and contemplate it, while the. amiable Dumb Boy produces from some mysterious recess an amiable Dumb Girl with whom he dances very gracefully, kissing her repeatedly, without, to my astonishment, extracting the least morsel of jealousy from the strong-minded Innkeeper's Daughter, who stands calmly by, viewing the proceedings with evident satisfaction. In Scene, the Second all the characters are making preparations for going to bed, the scanty supply ol chamber candlesticks suggesting the necessity of some of them going to bed in the dark. Captain Aubri, however, has something particular to do which necessitates his crossing the Forest of Bondy at midnight, and is exhorted by the heroine to "fear not, for Ikt dotr Dragon shall accompany him." When the heroine has made her exit (first entrance right), the two Villains makj their appearance (first entrance left), and Mncaire taunts Aubri, and dares him to mortal combat Drawing two rusty swords, they are about to rush upon and annihilate each other, when the second Villain stops in between them and proposes, as th_- fairest way of settling the quarrel, that ho should fetch a carbine, and that the two antagonists should throw dice as to who should shoot the other. This being agreed to, the dice and carbine are produced, and by a remarkable coincidence each man throws eleven. The second Villain then m.ikes a long speech at the wing, expressing his intention of throwing with loaded dice, but in the meantime the dice have been thrown again, and Aubri has won. The first Villain folds bis arms, and expressing a high degree of scorn by turning up his nose as far as be is able, awaits his fate, but the Good Young Jim fires in the air, and offers his hand to his foe. I must confess that I have never met a more ungrateful Villain than this Lieutenant, for niter his life has been spared he snaps his fingers in the face of the Good Young Man; says in heartrending tones, " What! and am I sunk so low as to be deserving of per-hitty!" and retires with his friend only to come on in the next scene to lay a plot for the assassination of the captain. Then there are more leave-takings by moonlight in the inn yard between the unfortunate captain and his f-iends, and more flirtations between the Dumb Boy and the strongminded young lady at certainly a very improper time of night; and more expressions of vengeance on the part of the two Villains, who make their appearance'armed, one with a sword to kill the Good Young Man, and the other with a spade to dig his grave. All this time I have seen nothing of the Dog, and I begin to ask myself what right have the management to announce this in the bills as a sensational canine drama ? But suddenly in the last scene of the act, where the murder is to be committed, the hoarse barking of a dog is heard outside, and a thrill of expectation runs through me. The Captain enters looks warily round—soliloquises—takes a few steps—soliloquises again—when the THE LA.TE FIRE.

two Villains enter and attack him. But he is not to be killed easily. He fights manfully with the pair of them—the Dog barks occasionally at the side scenes—and when libe first Villain raises his spade to cut the Captain down, the noble animal rushes in amidst tumultuous applause, and seizes the handle. The Captain then fights one, and the Dog fighta the other; then the villain pulls the Dog of? the (itapre, and re-entering by .himself again attacks the captain. A terrific combat ensues; the two Villains hold out tlieir Hwords one after another for the Captain to hit them; they wait while he turns round to hit them again ; and then when he is quite exhausted they leisurely run their swords through his body, pulling them out very slowly. The tenacity with which he clings to life is remarkable; he will not fall; but stands up until they run him through two or three times, when he falls upon his knees, thence upon his back, stiffens himself out nicely and easily, and dies quietly as a Good Young Man should. Then one of the Villains takes up the spade and proceeds to uig the grave, while the curtain falls slowly on the "impressive tableau." In the second and last act, the Dumb Boy, who is discovered asleep in the open air, without a night shirt, is accused of the murder, and the evidence being of course quite conclusive, he is tried in the .Inn Yard, and condemned to die at sunrise. Not all the dumb pantomime he can exhibit in his defence can save him. Events hurry on quickly. The strong minded young lady's mama sets out to petition the King, and I am introduced to a landscape in Bondy where a saah ia found, which induces the heroine to declare that " Providence has not forsaken us." lam also introduced to a castle and rampart wall, to another landscape, and then to the last scene where the Dumb Boy is to be shot. The drums beat—the soldiers march on—the Dumb Boy appears without a coat and waistcoat as before, in his tights and cotton drawers. He is ordered to stand in a convenient position to be shot. " Make ready! present ! " and then there is an evident indecision whether the command to Fire should be given. Before their minds are made up, the strong-minded young lady gives a strong-minded shriek and rushes on. " This sash ! " she exclaims ; " the man to whom this fash belongs is the murderer !" Tlie seneschal orders all who received sashes in the first scene to stand forwards. They do so ; the two Villains and the insignificant personage who fquints. She examines their sashes ; she shakes her head mournfully ; she is turning away when her gazo is attracted to the first villain's sword. She seizes it. " This sword ! Villain ! This is Captain Aubri's sword !" (Immensesensation.) Without thinkingfor a moment that he is a criminal doomed to death, the Dumb Boy rushes forward and wrestles with the murderer. The soldiers stand quiescent. The Dog rushes on (he has been barking outside for the last five minutes), seizes the murderer by the throat, they have a tremendous struggle, and the curtain falls to a highly satisfactory denouement. I cannot help thinking as I go out of the theatre that the murderer was a great fool to wear his victim's sword ; but then, of course, if it had not been for that simple fact the innocent Dumb Boy would have been shot. I cannot help thinking that the unities of time, place, and circumstance, are dreadfully mangled in the Forest of Bandy ; but then how otherwise could Virtue be rewarded and Vice defeated, as they certainly are in this instance ? I cannot help thinking that the plot is ridiculous, that the language is absurd, and that the whole piece is utterly unworthy to be placed upon the stage; but the play is an ancient one, and introduces a Dog, and so I suppo.se I must not say anything more about it.