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“What various swains our motley walls contain!

Fashion from Moorfields, honour from Chick-lane;

Bankers from Paper-buildings here resort,

Bankrupts from Golden-square and Riches-court;

From the Haymarket canting rogues in grain,

Gulls from the Poultry, sots from Water-lane;

The lottery cormorant, the auction shark,

The full-price master, and the half-price clerk;

Boys, who long linger at the gallery-door,

With pence twice live, they want but twopence more,

Till some Samaritan the twopence spares,

And sends them jumping up the gallery-stairs.

Critics we boast, who ne'er their malice baulk,

But talk their minds—we wish they'd mind their talk;

Big-worded bullies, who by quarrels live,

Who give the lie, and tell the lie they give;

Jews from St. Mary-Axe, for jobs so wary,

That for old clothes they'd even axe St. Mary;

And Bucks with pockets empty as their pate,

Lax in their gaiters, laxer in their gait.

Say, why these Babel strains from Babel tongues?

Who's that calls “Silence” with such leathern lungs?

He, who, in quest of quiet, “Silence” hoots,

Is apt to make the hubbub he imputes.”

IN a few minutes they entered Dolly's, from whence, after partaking of a cheerful repast and an exhilarating glass of wine, a coach conveyed them to Drury-lane. ',

“Now,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “I shall introduce you to a new scene in Real Life, well worth your close observation. We have already taken a promiscuous ramble from the West towards the East, and it has afforded some amusement; but our stock is abundant, and many objects of curiosity are still in view.”

“Yes, yes,” continued Sparkle, “every day produces novelty; for although London itself is always the same, the inhabitants assume various forms, as inclination or necessity may induce or compel. The Charioteer of to-day, dashing along with four in hand, may be an inhabitant of the King's-bench to-morrow, and—but here we are, and Marino Faliero is the order of the night. The character of its author is so well known, as to require no observation; but you will be introduced to a great variety of other characters, both in High and Low Life, of an interesting nature.”

By this time they had alighted, and were entering the House. The rapid succession of carriages arriving with the company, the splendour of the equipages, the general elegance of the dresses, and the blazing of the lamps, alternately became objects of attraction to Bob, whose eyes were kept in constant motion—while “A Bill of the Play for Covent Garden or Drury Lane,” still resounded in their ears.

On arriving at the Box-lobby, Tom, who was well known, was immediately shewn into the centre box with great politeness by the Box-keeper,{1} the second scene of the Tragedy being just over. The appearance of the House was a delicious treat to Bob, whose visual orbs wandered more among the delighted and delightful faces which surrounded him, than to the plot or the progress of the performances before him. It was a scene of splendour of which lie had not the least conception; and Sparkle perceiving the principal objects of attraction, could not resist the impulse to deliver, in a sort of half-whisper, the following lines:—

“When Woman's soft smile all our senses bewilders,

And gilds while it carves her dear form on the heart,

What need has new Drury of carvers and gilders?

With nature so bounteous, why call upon art?

1 The Box-keeper to a public Theatre has many duties to

perform to the public, his employer, and himself; but,

perhaps, in order to be strictly correct, we ought to have

reversed the order in which we have noticed them, since of

the three, the latter appears to be the most important, (at

least) in his consideration; for he takes care before the

commencement of the performance to place one of his

automaton figures on the second row of every box, which

commands a good view of the House, who are merely intended

to sit with their hats off, and to signify that the two

first seats are taken, till the conclusion of the second

act; and so in point of fact they are taken by himself, for

the accommodation of such friends as he is quite aware are

willing to accommodate him with a quid pro quo. How well would our Actors attend to their duties, Our House save in oil, and our Authors in wit, In lieu of yon lamps, if a row of young Beauties Glanc'd light from their eyes between us and the Pit. The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge By Woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize, To tempt us in Theatre, Senate, or College— I mean the Love-apples that bloom in the eyes. There too is the lash which, all statutes controlling, Still governs the slaves that are made by the Fair, For Man is the pupil who, while her eye's rolling, Is lifted to rapture, or sunk in despair.”

Tallyho eagerly listened to his friend's recitation of lines so consonant with his own enraptured feelings; while his Cousin Dashall was holding a conversation in dumb-show with some person at a distance, who was presently recognized by Sparkle to be Mrs. G——den,{1} a well-known frequenter of the House.

“Come,” said he, “I see how it is with Tom—you may rely upon it he will not stop long where he is, there is other game in view—he has but little taste for Tragedy fiction, the Realities of Life are the objects of his regard.

“Tis a fine Tragedy,” continued he, addressing himself to Tom.

“Yes—yes,” replied the other, “I dare say it is, but, upon my soul, I know nothing about it—that is—I have seen it before, and I mean to read it.”

“Bless my heart!” said a fat lady in a back seat, “what a noise them 'are gentlemen does make—they talk so loud there 'ant no such thing as seeing what is said—I wonder they don't make these here boxes more bigger, for I declare I'm so scrouged I'm all in a—Fanny, did you bring the rumperella for fear it should rain as we goes home?”

“Hush, Mother,” said a plump-faced little girl, who sat along side of her—“don't talk so loud, or otherwise every body will hear you instead of the Performers, and that would be quite preposterous.”

“Don't call me posterous Miss; because you have been to school, and learnt some edification, you thinks you are to do as you please with me.”

1 Mrs. G——den, a dashing Cyprian of the first order, well

known in the House, a fine, well-made woman, always ready

for a lark, and generally well togged.

This interesting conversation was interrupted by loud vociferations of Bravo, Bravo, from all parts of the House, as the drop-scene fell upon the conclusion of the second act. The clapping of hands, the whistling and noise that ensued for a few minutes, appeared to astonish Tallyho. “I don't much like my seat,” said Dashall. “No,” said Sparkle, “I did not much expect you would remain long—you are a mighty ambitious sort of fellow, and I perceive you have a desire to be exalted.”

“I confess the situation, is too confined,” replied Tom—“come, it is excessively warm here, let us take a turn and catch a little air.”

The House was crowded in every part; for the announcement of a new Tragedy from the pen of Lord Byron, particularly under the circumstances of its introduction to the Stage, against the expressed inclination of its Author, the

1 At an early hour on the evening this Tragedy was first

pro-duced at Drury Lane, Hand-bills were plentifully

distributed through the Theatre, of which the following is a

copy:

“The public are respectfully informed, that the

representation of Lord Byron's Tragedy, The Doge of Venice,

this evening, takes place in defiance of the injunction from

the Lord Chancellor, which was not applied for until the

remonstrance of the Publisher, at the earnest desire of the

noble Author, had failed in protecting that Drama from its

intrusion on the Stage, for which it was never intended.”

This announcement had the effect of exciting public

expectation beyond its usual pitch upon such occasions. The

circumstances were somewhat new in the history of the Drama:

the question being, whether a published Flay could be

legally brought on the Stage without the consent, or rather

we should say, in defiance of the Author. “We are not aware

whether this question has been absolutely decided, but this

we do know, that the Piece was performed several nights, and

underwent all the puffing of the adventurous Manager, as

well as all the severity of the Critics. The newspapers of

the day were filled with histories and observations upon it.

No subject engrossed the conversation of the polite and

play-going part of the community but Lord Byron, The Doge of

Venice, and Mr. Elliston. They were all bepraised and

beplastered—exalted and debased—acquitted and condemned;

but it was generally allowed on all hands, that the printed

Tragedy contained many striking beauties, notwithstanding

its alleged resemblance to Venice Preserved. We are,

however, speaking of the acted Tragedy, and the magnanimous

Manager, who with such promptitude produced it in an altered

shape; and having already alluded to the theatrical puffing

so constantly resorted to upon all occasions, we shall drop

the curtain upon the subject, after merely remarking, that

the Times of the same day has been known to contain the

Manager's puff, declaring the piece to have been

received with rapturous applause, in direct opposition

to the Editor's critique, which as unequivocally pronounced

its complete failure!

will of its publisher, and the injunction{1} of the Lord Chancellor, were attractions of no ordinary nature; and

1 Injunction—The word injunction implies a great deal, and

has in its sound so much of the terrific, as in many

instances to paralyze exertion on the part of the supposed

offending person or persons. It has been made the instrument

of artful, designing, and malicious persons, aided by

pettifogging or pretended attorneys, to obtain money for

themselves and clients by way of compromise; and in numerous

instances it is well known that fear has been construed into

actual guilt. Injunctions are become so common, that even

penny printsellers have lately issued threats, and promised

actual proceedings, against the venders of articles said to

be copies from their original drawings, and even carried it

so far as to withhold (kind souls!) the execution of their

promises, upon the payment of a 5L. from those who were

easily to be duped, having no inclination to encounter the

glorious uncertainty of the law, or no time to spare for

litigation. We have recently been furnished with a curious

case which occurred in Utopia, where it appears by our

informant, that the laws hold great similarity with our own.

A certain house of considerable respectability had imported

a large quantity of Welsh cheese, which were packed in

wooden boxes, and offered them for sale (a great rarity in

Eutopia) as double Gloucester.

It is said that two of a trade seldom agree; how far the

adage may apply to Eutopia, will be seen in the sequel. A

tradesman, residing in the next street, a short time after,

received an importation from Gloucester, of the favourite

double production of that place, packed in a similar way,

and (as was very natural for a tradesman to do, at least we

know it is so here,) the latter immediately began to vend

his cheese as the real Double Gloucester. This was an

offence beyond bearing. The High Court of Equity was moved,

similar we suppose to our High Court of Chancery, to

suppress the sale of the latter; but as no proof of

deception could be produced, it was not granted. This only

increased the flame already excited in the breasts of the

first importers; every effort was made use of to find a good

and sufficient excuse to petition the Court again, and at

length they found out one of the craft to swear, that as the

real Gloucester had been imported in boxes of a similar

shape, make, and wood, it was quite evident that the

possessor must have bought similar cheeses, and was imposing

on the public to their great disadvantage, notwithstanding

they could not find a similarity either of taste, smell, or

appearance. In the mean time the real Gloucester cheese

became a general favourite with the inhabit-ants of Utopia,

and upon this, though slender ground, the innocent tradesman

was served with a process, enjoining him not to do that,

which, poor man, he never intended to do; and besides if he

had, the people of that country were not such ignoramuses as

to be so deceived; it was merely to restrain him from

selling his own real double Gloucester as their Welsh

cheeses, purporting, as they did, to be double Gloucester,

or of mixing them together (than which nothing could be

further from his thoughts,) and charging him at the same

time with having sold his cheeses under their name. But the

most curious part of the business was, the real cheeseman

brought the investigation before the Court, cheeses in boxes

were produced, and evidence was brought forward, when, as

the charges alleged could not be substantiated, the

restraint was removed, and the three importers of Welsh

cheese hung their heads, and retired in dudgeon.

the Hon. Tom availed himself of the circumstance to leave the Box, though the truth was, there were other attractions of a more enlivening cast in his view.

“Come,” said he, “we shall have a better opportunity of seeing the House, and its decorations, by getting nearer to the curtain; besides, Ave shall have a bird's-eye view of the company in all quarters, from the seat of the Gods to the Pit.”

The influx of company, (it being the time of half-price), and the rush and confusion which took place in all parts at this moment, were indescribable. Jumping over boxes and obtaining seats by any means, regardless of politeness or even of decorum—Bucks and Bloods warm from the pleasures of the bottle—dashing Belles and flaming Beaux, squabbling and almost fighting—rendered the amusements before the curtain of a momentary interest, which appeared to obliterate the recollection of what they had previously witnessed. In the mean time, the Gods in the Gallery issued forth an abundant variety of discordant sounds, from their elevated situation. Growling of bears, grunting of hogs, braying of donkeys, gobbling of turkeys, hissing of geese, the catcall, and the loud shrill whistle, were heard in one mingling concatenation of excellent imitation and undistinguished variety: During which, Tom led the way to the upper Boxes, where upon arriving, he was evidently disappointed at not meeting the party who had been seen occupying a seat on the left side of the House, besides having sacrificed a front seat, to be now compelled to take one at the very back part of a side Box, an exchange by no means advantageous for a view of the performance. However, this was compensated in some degree by a more extensive prospect round the House; and his eyes were seen moving in all directions, without seeming to know where to fix, while Sparkle and Bob were attracted by a fight in the Gallery, between a Soldier and a Gentleman's Servant in livery, for some supposed insult offered to the companion of the latter, and which promised serious results from the repeated vociferations of those around them, of “Throw 'em over—throw 'em over;” while the gifts of the Gods were plentifully showered down upon the inhabitants of the lower regions in the shape of orange-peelings, apples, &c. The drawing up of the curtain however seemed to have some little effect upon the audience, and in a moment the Babel of tongues was changed into a pretty general cry of “Down—down in the front—hats off—silence, &c. which at length subsided in every quarter but the Gallery, where still some mutterings and murmurings were at intervals to be heard.