ART OF REPARTEE.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20380, 11 April 1928, Page 12

ART OF REPARTEE.

HIGHEST FORM OF WIT. WHEN WITHOUT STING. THE DEADLY RETORT. Repartee is the purest and highest form of wit, especially when it leaves no sting behind (writes Sir James C. Percy in John o’ London’s Weekly). A flash of brilliant satire will silence the most voluble opponent. With complete command of this deadly weapon the politician, the lawyer, or the business man need fear no adversary. But repartee to be effective must be instantaneous; it is only repartee when it returns the blow with the speed, skill, and precision of the champion prize-fighter. The witty repartee and deadly retort belong to all ages and spring from all classes, as the following examples testify:— A sterner rebuke was never administered to a monarch in embryo than Wilke’s smart retort to the then Prince of Wales. Wilkes was whistling “God Save the King.’’ “ How long have you taken to that tune?” asked the Prince. “ Ever since I had the honour of your royal highness’s acquaintance,” was the brutal answer. Foote, the actor, was dining with some friends, and a heated discussion arose between himself and a young nobleman. The latter sought to disparage Foote by asking him what his father was. “A tradesman,” said Foote. “ Then, sir, it’s a pity he did not make you one." “And pray, let me ask what your father was, my lord?” “My father, Mr Foote, was a gentleman.” “ Then, my lord, it’s a pity he didn’t make you one.” I must not omit the happy answer of Dr Barrow. “ Doctor,” said Rochester, “I am yours down to the ground.” “My lord,” said Barrow, “ I am yours to the centre of the earth.” “ I am yours, doctor, to the lowest depths of hell,” “ There, my lord, I must leave you.” Lord Melbourne’s retort to Mr Black, editor of the Morning Chronicle, always appeals to me. Melbourne was Prime Minister, and was constantly being attacked. Meeting in Pall Mall, they inquired after each other’s health, Mr B. explained that he was suffering from a bad cold. “Ah, Mr 8.,” said Lord M., “you have been lying between damp sheets.” IN THE SERVANT’S HALL. Douglas Jerrold was a master of repartee. I give a few samples of his sharp and cutting satire: Samuel Warren, author of “ Ten Thousand a Year.” was pompous and conceited. He once remarked to Jerrold; “I was dining at the Marquts’s last ight, anr again there was no fish. This has happened tivico recently. I cannot understand it.” “Nor 1 either,” said Jerrold, “unless they ask it all upstairs.*’ A boro met Jerrold in the street and inquired: “What’s going on to-day.” “I am,” and off he shot. Hero arc two further specimens from the same witty source:— “Have you heard of poor B.? His business lisa gone to the devil.” “That’s ail right then, for he is sure to got it back again.” “ Three and two noughts would put him on his feet again,” said the friend. “ Put me down for one of the noughts,” replied Jerrold. Repartee never shines more brightly tlmn in verse, as instanced by Lord Nugent’s reply to a libeller: Lie on, while my rovongo shall bo To speak the very truth of thee. Of Sir John Irwin, a man famous in Georgian days for his ready wit and his love of wine, the following among many other stories is told:—One day when ne was suffering from an acute attack of gout, his doctor called to find him a bottle. “Como along doctor,’ was air John’s greeting. “ You wo- just in tuna to taste this bottle of Madeira. It w the first of a pipe that has just been broached.” To which the doctor replied with righteous indignation: iheso pipes of Madeira will bo the death of you; are the cause of all your suffering Well, then,” blithely responded the v‘ctimyour glass, for now that you have found the cause tho sooner wo got nd of it the bU Mr r ‘ Gladstone said that the best repartee ho ever heard m the House £ Commons was Lord John Russell s. fair Francis Burdctt, after turning lory taunted Sir John with tho cant of patriotism.” “1 will, show the honourable baronet a worse thing than the cant ot patriotism. I mean* tho ‘ recant of patno. ‘“irishmen always look to J ° hn Curran as the high priest of repartee. There is no one in Irish history, so far as I can discover, who was endowed with such remarkable gifts of short, sharp > >“g lS wiSsms are famed'throughout “the vocation turned on public ran stated that he could ne ?^,„ SP „qJLut SS&& WES' t sr ” v“K’oth» ,„sht •» i, '%»rnV,‘ 1 - c Sirs £.rs';..y™ Curran, “ for everyone agrees that it was the driest speech of the season. ACRES AND WISEACRE. 4 complete collection of clever retorts attribute/to Curran would C 1 L™f Jjowmg I must, however, include the following 8 on*UN arm round the waist of a certain lady lus arm ruu u vOU too \- the waist customer. I suppose you (wastol for a common, replied the gr (waste) t wealth barrister once said to Curran that “No man should bo admitted to tbo Bar who has not an ‘“dependent a wisea county squire 'J' 1 * 0 a coal bill, ho asked: ‘Did he S o you the coals? ” He did. sir, but ‘‘But what? On your oath, wasn t your P^“n nt th?°Chu«h did not escape his scathing satire. One Sunday morning he was present at a sermon delivered by a pastor with whom he was When ff%ssr- 1 hope.--Pm ran “ nor too deep cither. One of tho smartest sallies was made nr, (he streets of Cork, where Curran w'- 3 exceedingly well known. In going the court one day to prosecute a popular Cork citizen Sir Henry Hayes, for abilucold’Jady said to him: “ Good luck to vou • I hope you 11 win the day, air Coun«eV” “ H I do,” replied Curran, You’ll lose the knight.” It is interosting that the unworthy knight was lo=t to society for something like 14 years tO E nto tho very end the great lawyer retained his reputation for witty say m A few mornings before his death the doctor observed to him that he coughed very badlv. “That’s very queer said the great Iri'-h wit, with a twinkle in fits faded eye, “ for Ive been practising ad nicrlit.” . t Father Arthur O’Leary, a very noted Irish priest, however, once got the better of Curran in an encounter. Cur rail -e marked in one of Ins gay moods; Now I wish when I die that you had the key to Heaven.” “Why? asked O Leary. “Oh.” replied Curran, “because you could then let mo in.” „ _ “It would be better for you, retorted the friar, “if I had the key of tho other place, for then I could let you out.” .