horities to relax the laws that might hinder them from
doing so. The boasted compliance with legal requisites in the mode of
preparing "Martinuzzi" for the stage is not a new idea, and we only
hope it may be carried out one-half as well as in the instances of
"Romeo and Juliet as the Law directs," and "Othello according to Act of
Parliament." There is a vaster amount of humbug in the play-bill of
this new concern, than in all the open puffs that have been issued for
many years past from all the regular establishments. The tirade against
the _law_--the announcement of alterations in conformity with _the
law_--the hint that the musical introductions are such as "_the law_
may require"--mean nothing more than this--"if the piece is damned,
it's _the law_; if it succeeds, it's the _author's genius!_" Now, every
one who has written for the illegitimate stage, and therefore PUNCH in
particular, knows very well that the necessity for the introduction of
music into a piece played at one of the smaller theatres is only
nominal--that four pieces of verse are interspersed in the copy sent to
the licenser, but these are such matters of utter course, that their
invention or selection is generally left to the prompter's genius. The
piece is, unless essentially musical, licensed with the songs and acted
without--or, at least, there is no necessity whatever for retaining
them. Why, therefore, should Mr. Stephens drag "solos, duets, choruses,
and other musical arrangements," into his drama, unless it is that he
thinks they will give it a better chance of success? while, in the
event of failure, he reserves the right of turning round upon the _law_
and the _music_, which he will declare were the means of damning it.

A set of briefless barristers--all would-be Erskines, Thurlows, or
Eldons, at the least--might as well complain of the system that
excludes them from the Woolsack, and take a building to turn it into a
Court of Chancery on their own account, as that these luckless
scribblers, all fancying the Elizabethan mantle has fallen flop upon
their backs, should set themselves up for Shakspeares on their own
account, and seize on a metropolitan theatre as a temple for the
enshrinement of their genius.

If PUNCH has dealt hardly with these gentlemen, it is because he will
bear "no brother near the throne" of humbug and quackery. Like a
steward who tricks his master, but keeps the rest of the servants
honest, PUNCH will gammon the publi