Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 4

remarks, then he would
have to wait until after each Act, and retire with his pupils into some
quiet corner of the Refreshment-room, where he could give his lecture.
Or teacher and pupils could hear a Scene or an Act every night,--and if
they paid for their places (a reduction being made for a quantity), the
particular drama they patronised would be considerably benefited by
this plan.
There might be a uniform or an academic costume for these critical
scholars--say Shakspearian collars, Undergraduate gown, and portable
mortar-board, to fold up, and be sat upon. There might be a row
reserved for them at the back of the Dress Circle, and twenty-five per
cent. reduction on tickets for a series. The M.C., or Master of Critics,
would take a fee for a course from each pupil. Fee to include seat at
theatre, instruction, and supper afterwards.

* * * * *
IMPORTANT CONTRIBUTION TOWARDS THE UNIVERSAL
LANGUAGE,--"Hallo!" being the recognised telephonic summons in
use between companies and individuals of all nationalities, may be
already considered as "Hallo'd by a variety of associations."
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.
(_CONDENSED AND REVISED VERSION BY MR. P.'S OWN
HARMLESS IBSENITE._)
NO. I.--ROSMERSHÖLM (CONCLUDED.)
ACT III.
_Sitting-room at Rosmershölm. Sun shining outside in the Garden.
Inside REBECCA WEST is watering a geranium with a small
watering-pot. Her crochet antimacassar lies in the arm-chair. Madam
HELSETH is rubbing the chairs with furniture-polish from a large
bottle. Enter ROSMER, with his hat and stick in his hand. Madam
HELSETH corks the bottle and goes out to the right._
Rebecca. Good morning, dear. (_A moment after--crocheting._) Have
you seen Rector KROLL's paper this morning? There's something
about you in it.
Rosmer. Oh, indeed? (_Puts down hat and stick, and takes up paper._)
H'm! (_Reads--then walks about the room._) KROLL has made it hot
for me. (_Reads some more._) Oh, this is too bad! REBECCA, they do
say such nasty spiteful things! They actually call me a renegade--and I
can't think why! They _mustn't_ go on like this. All that is good in
human nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent
man like me! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have
been!

_Reb._ Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to
attain--and I wish you may get it!
Rosmer. Thanks. I think I shall. (_Happens to look through window,
and jumps._) Ah, no, I shan't--never now. I have just seen--
[Illustration]
_Reb._ Not the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that
White Horse!
Rosmer. No--the mill-race, where BEATA--(_Puts on his hat--takes it
off again._) I'm beginning to be haunted by--no, I _don't_ mean the
horse--by a terrible suspicion that BEATA may have been right after all!
Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really have
been in love with you from the first. Tell me your opinion.
_Reb._ (_struggling with herself, and still crocheting._) Oh--I can't
exactly say--such an odd question to ask me!
Rosmer (_shakes his head_). Perhaps; I have no sense of humour--no
respectable Norwegian _has_--and I do want to know--because, you see,
if I was in love with you, it was a sin, and if I once convinced myself of
that--
[_Wanders across the room._
_Reb._ (_breaking out_). Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is
your hat, and your stick, too; go and take a walk.
[ROSMER takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk;
presently Madam HELSETH appears, and tells REBECCA something.
REBECCA tells her something. They whisper together. Madam H.
nods, and shows in Rector KROLL, who keeps his hat in his hand, and
sits on a chair._
Kroll. I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider
you an artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering

your birth and moral antecedents, you know--(_nods at her_)--it is not
surprising. (_REBECCA walks about, wringing her hands_) Why, what
is the matter? Did you really not know that you had no right to your
father's name? I'd no idea you would mind my mentioning such a trifle!
_Reb._ (_breaking out_). I do mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I
retain a few little prejudices still. I _don't_ like owning to my real age,
and I do prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information--of which I
was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. GAMVIK, never once
alluded to it--I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced
women are like that. Here is ROSMER. (ROSMER _enters with his hat
and stick._) ROSMER, I want to tell you and Rector KROLL a little
story. Let us sit down, dear, all three of us. (_They sit down,
mechanically, on chairs._) A long