The Sun.
London, England, 1844-12-27 00:00:00

LYCEUM THEATRE.

Two new pieces were produced at this theatre last
evening, the first a version of Charles Dickens's
Chimes, the second an admirable burlesque on Valen-
tine and Orson. The Chimes is well dramatised,
well acted, and admirably put upon the stage.
Keeley was the Toby Veck, and did full justice to
the bonhommie of the honest ticket-porter ; and Mrs.
Keeley acted Meggy as she acts everything—admi-
rably. The great feature of the piece, however, was
the Will Fern of Mr. Emery, which was a mag-
nificent piece of acting. Never has the impassioned
countryman been more powerfully depicted. Mr.
Emery, in this character, reminded us strongly of
his father. It is seldom that talent, more particularly
histrionic talent, is hereditary, but in this instance
such is the case—the mantle of the father has fallen
on the son. The Chimes was succeeded by Valentine
and Orson, the best burlesque that has been produced
for this many a long day. Equal in wit to the Forty
Thieves, it surpasses even Aladdin in splendour, and
will draw crowded houses until Easter. The play-
bill is itself a perfect galaxy of jokes—so excellent
is it, that we were almost afraid the piece would turn
uut to be " nothing but the bill." Such, however,
was not the case. The bill is only a foretaste of the
good things with which the piece is replete. Every
couplet is a pun, a joke, or a piece of clever satire,
and every hit tells, so that the concluding line,
" In one blaze of triumph we will wind up,"

is no fiction. Mrs. Keeley and her husband were the
Valentine and Orson. She the very beau ideal of a
preux chevalier, glittering in splendid armour; he
" unbeknown to himself," a public nuisance to the
neighbourhood of Orleans. They are of course under
the protection of the fairies, and in the opening scene
we find Oberon holding an after-dinner council,
which is interrupted by the arrival of Pacolet, who
comes flying through the air on a locomotive—an im-
provement upon the atmospheric railway. Pacolet
reports that Agramant, the evil genius, is still pur-
suing his machinations against the brothers ; and
Oberon, appointing Pacolet his Secretary for Foreign
Affairs, gives him orders to circumvent Agramant's
designs. The day begins to break, and the fairies
mysteriously disappear in a mist, to the tune of " We
won't go home till morning." We are then intro-
duced t) Belisanta, the mother of the two lost
children—Valentine and Orson—a decayed empress,
and the mistress of an academy for young ladies in
the neighbourhood of Orleans, who laments most
pathetically the decay of her profession in consequence
of the supply of cheap governesses, and of books for
teaching all sorts of things without masters. Then
comes the scene of scenes, the royal visit to Orleans
to open the Exchange, with " a splendid procession
by the method of double entry, on a scale of magni-
tude hitherto out of the power of any theatre to
attain." The spectacle itself in this scene is gorgeous,
and the costumes are magnificent, but the wit
sparkles even more brilliantly than the gems with
which the costumes are profusely adorned. Loud
was the laughter which greeted the reading of the
proclamation signed " Mereweather," ordering the
streets to be kept clear; but the laughter and applause
were redoubled when, on one of the, nobility angrily
calling the authorities to account for shoving him to
the wall, a policeman contemptuously replies—

" The Lord Mayor never gives accounts at all."

Then comes the triumphant entry of "Valentine's
pikemen with the gates (turnpike-gates), avenging
the insult of 800 years, for which he is rewarded with
the order of Rebecca, and the promise of the hand of
the Princess Eglantine (Miss Fairbrother), which latter
promise raises the jealousy of Henry (Mr. A. Wigan),
the King's nephew, who, from that moment, vows ven-
geance against Valentine. We are next introduced
to Orson, and his bear mother in the forest. He
enters bearing a leg of mutton on a pitchfork for the
bear's dinner, and Orson and the bear dance[La
Bruindaise (the original of the Truandaise) a la