Pantomime, Harlequinades and Children in Late Eighteenth-Century Britain:

Playing in the Text

J A C Q U E 1, I NE RE ID-W A 1, S H

In the late eighteenth century the appeal of the theatre cut across boundaries of class, gender and age. Although the Licensing Act of 1737 had restricted the performance of spoken drama to two theatres in London, Convent Garden and Drury Lane, many other forms of theatrical entertainment remained popular. Audiences flocked to a range of venues to see various types of performances and spectacles offering different combinations of music, song, and dance. There were operas, entr’act performances and burlettas (a type of musical farce); and there were equestrian acts, water extravaganzas and puppet shows. Amongst the most popular performances were the pantomimes, spectacular multimedia productions featuring elaborate scenery, tricks and illusions. At the centre of the pantomime was the ‘harlequinade’, featuring the characters of Harlequin, Columbine, Clown and Pantaloon and loosely based on the Italian cornrnediu dell’urte form. It was usually performed in dumb show. As with most of the popular theatrical performances, pantomimes typically did not have published scripts, nor were they conventionally authored. Mounting a pantomime was a collaborative effort. The designers’ names were generally included on the theatre bills and programmes along with those of the actors, while the name of the playwright was usually omitted. This was thc case even when the plays were written by a famous figure, as with Ilavid Garrick’s Hurlequin’s lnvasion (I 7 5 9 ~ 7 6 0 ) .

Contemporary commentators noted that the theatre in general attracted a cross-section of society. ‘Noble, Gentle, or Simple [...I fill the boxes, Pit and Galleries’, wrote Theophilus Cibber, just as ‘K-ng, I,-rds and C O M M ~ N S [...I make the great body ofthe Nation’.’ Pantomime in particular reached very far down social and age hierarchies for its audience. Large numbers of apprentices were appreciative spectators, often having entered the theatre after the first act in order to obtain half-price tickets at 6d. Indeed, John O’Bricn, in his recent book Harlequin Hrituin, considers that the pantomime is an early instance of an entertainment fad and that the large number of young apprentices in the audience, and their self-identification as belonging to a distinct group, suggest them to be the first example of a modern ‘youth culture’ in Europe.’ Young children attended the pantomimes as well. Although the link between pantomime and children (especially at the Christmas season) did not become securely established until the mid-nineteenth century, Garrick’s Hurlequin’s

lmwsioi1. subtitled ‘A Christmas Gambol’, set an early precedent. As we shall see. Charles 1,amb. when aged six, was probably taken to see it, along with two other pantomimes, during the winter of 1781-1782.’

I n I 770 the pantomime crossed over from stage to page with the production ol‘ ii type of moveable book called, variously, ‘turn-ups’, ‘metamorphosis boolts’. ‘tlap-bool\s’, or ‘harlequinades’. Their production ceased only in around I X I 6. ‘I’hese were octavo size, but narrower than normal, consisting of a single engraved sheet of paper. A second sheet was placed on top, cut in half horixontally, and glued at the top and bottom edges of the first sheet. The sheets were folded into four. like an accordion, and the top sheet was cut vertically at each page divide. This resulted in a series of half-page flaps on the top sheet. each of which could be lifted separately. A verse on each section of the Ilap tells a simple story usually concluding with instructions to t u r n ii tlap to continue. When the flap is turned either up or down the viewer sees that half of the new picture fits onto the half of the un-raised Ilap, so the act of lifting one tlap after another creates a ‘surprise’ unfolding of the story. Although a simple design feature, depending on the skill of the illustrator and the placement of the folds, the flap could prove to be quite ;in elastic form. These harlequinades were anonymous. They were relatively inexpensive too, with two prices: ‘6d plain and IS coloured’.‘‘ These two prices corresponded to the full cost and late admission fee for the most inexpensive theatre tickets. As such, they would have been accessible to a fairly wide population, similar to the wide range that attended the t heatre.:

In this essay I examine some early harlequinade flap-books produced by two well-known booltsellers and printmakers, the Tringham family and Robert Sayer. IZecause the plot of a harlequinade is conventional, both theatre audience and the booli readers would have known the outcome. In each mode of htirlcquinadc the narratives were propelled along by visual spectacles of ‘antic tr~insbrrnaliori’. Accordingly, in each form of storytelling the focus is iiot on the ‘what’ of the narrative but on the ‘how’, and this is where the dcsigners of stage or book put their imaginative eflorts. Drawing on period pcrlortnarice thcory, 1 ;tn;tlyse the Ilap-book design and the visual depiction of the characters a s constituting a text of performance. 1 propose that the design oft he harlequinade draws the readerhiewer in as an active participant in the performance both iis a n enabler and as a critical onlooker. liltimately I argue tha t t his playful implied reader/vicwer is constructed as a young person.6

111 their appearance harlequinadc flap-books suggest an adaptation of stage design and theatrical met hods. The depiction of a stage performance includes a generiil suggestion of the characters as performers on a stage, analogies between the flap and scene change, and, on occasion, the representation of the mechanics of stage tricks. For example, in Mother Shipton, published in London by Tringham and his associates in 1771. at the beginning of the final lransformation the verse on the top flap reads:

Puntominie, Harleyuinudes a r i d Cliildreii 415

A Coalpit’s Mouth you here behold. Which Harlequin went down I’m told His Mother, and fair Columbine. You See to follow him incline: They’ll quickly vanish from the Sight: Turn down, and See if they go right.:

While the illustration on the top flap shows a pit or well with a rope on a spit, the illustration on the lower flap shows Mother Shiplon and Columbine being transported through two ‘grave traps’ (large openings on the stage or in the scenery, usually concealed by a cover, used for entrances and exits).x By inviting the readerhiewer to discover if the traps or tricks are working correctly, the narrator reinforces the sense that the user is a knowing onloolser and a participant in a theatrical experience.

Above all, the harlequinade flap-books are interactive texts, for in order to move the action ofthe plot along the user has to lift the flaps in a certain way. As we have seen, the reader is often directly addressed by the narrator: the instructions to turn the flap up or down may form part of the doggerel rhyme and be integrated into the propulsion of the plot, or the reader may bc invited to aid Harlequin in his attempts to win Columbine and t o escape from his pursuers. For example, in the third section of Korrrrliiig School Roriips, published by William Tringham and others in 1771, Harlequin, alter having tried in vain to infiltrate the girls’ school by masquerading as il dancing master, is shown climbing a ladder to where Columbine is confined in her second-storey room. The verse recounts.

Now Harlequin the fair has trac’d Thc House is found, the Ladder plac’d. His Passion ev’ry Hour improves IIc hopes to Clasp the fair hc Loves; Turn up, to find our Columbine, And help poor Harlequin to Climb.”

When the flap is turned up the illustration shows her at the window gesturing out towards Harlequin. Here the reader acts as an enabler of the action of the play: as a stage-hand perhaps, or as the benevolent agent who traditionally aids Harlequin.

In the eighteenth century, dancers and actors employed a traditional language of imitativc expressions and attitudes and it was assumed that the theatre audience knew how to interpret their facial expressions, bodily gestures and physical movements. Rene Descartes had proposed that there were six universal passions - horror, fear, sorrow, astonishment, ravishment and awe. Eighteenth-century actors were expected to be able to evoke these passions by their gestures and attitudes. h e partly to widely-spread images of the six passions drawn by the French painter Charles Le Brun in his Cor@rence sur l’expression, published in Britain in I 701 as The Corifirciicc~ of Monsirur Le Brun, images of the facial expressions and attitudes of the head for the six

passions were widely available, setting common standards for the actors to imitate and for the audience to use in their judgement of the actors’ skills. Le l3run’s schemata provided an apparently universal grammar, for artists such its f Iogarth also used his images in their portrayal of the passions.’”

This theory of imitative gesture extended beyond the face and neck to encompass the body as a whole in classical and comic dance. Comic or grotesque dance was a highly developed skill in itself. Noted dancing master john Weaver defined grotesque dancing as the ‘just’ and ‘lively’ portrayal of comic characters, although he objected to the popular cornmedia form because it was ‘so intermix’d with Trick and Tumbling, that the design is lost in ridiculous Grimace, and odd and unnatural Actions’. Weaver even tried to establish a full-scale ‘mute rhetoricli’ for classical pantomime. In 1717 he developed a method and presented it in a programme for the audience where he outlined twcnty-one emotions or emotional actions and their representative movements, including admiration. astonishment, anger, indignation and so on. He included hand actions, arm movements, leg positions, and movement of the trunk. Significantly, Weaver stressed that his comparative method would be accessible to everybody ‘without the help of the interpreter’ to enable any member of the audience to ‘judge the Design of the performer’. If any spectator, irrespective o f his or her class, could become a critic, it seems not inconceivable that young people, including children, might also have been able to attain the same privilege.’ ’

In I 729 Monsieur F. le Rousseau attempted to transcribe some ofHarlequin’s key attitudes in his Cliacvori/or a Harkquin. Eased on a method that combines the early dance notion of Feuillel with one of his own invention, he presented i n diagrams 21 codification of the positions of the head and neck, arms, feet and body. Some historians of pantomime have gone so far as to suggest that Ilarlcquin developed his own unique set of poses and gcsturcs, expressing admiration. flirtation, contemplation, defiance and determination. In 1753 William 12ogart h interpolated both the systems of facial expressions and of bodily gestures into his A t i d p i s o/ Kmuty. where he detached the actions of grotesque or comic characters from those of noble and gentlefolk based on the absence of presence of the serpentine line: ‘When the form of the body is divested of is serpentine lines it becomes ridiculous as a human figure, so likewise when all movements in such lines are excluded in a dance, it becomes low, grotesque, and comical; but however, [...I [when] composed o f variciy, made consistent with some character, and executed with agility, it nevcrthelcss is very entertaining.’ Hogarth went on to describe the action of c v r i i r i r u t l i t r characters, except for Clown. ‘The attitudes of the harlequin’, he wrote. for example, ‘are ingeniously composed of certain little, quick movements of the head, hands and feet, some of which shoot out as it were from the body in straight lines, or are twirled about in little circles’. As did Weaver, llogarth believed in the universal nature of this language of action, lor he proposed that a ‘foreigner’ who is a ‘master of all the effects of action’ could attend ;I nlav without knowing English and not onlv follow the narrative

but judge the actors’ abilities. Such an observer, he wrote, could ‘distinguish by the lines ofthe movements belonging to each character’ and would on that basis be able to determine ‘the actions of an old man, if proper, or not’, and ‘he would judge of low and odd characters, by the inelegant lines’. Thus he would ‘form his judgment of the graceful acting of a kine gentleman or hero, by the elegance of their movements’.’ 1

Both the ‘mute rhetoric’ of the face and the ‘language of action’ of the body are evident in the flap illustrations of many harlequinade books and could easily be deciphered by the experienced theatre spectator of any gender, class - or age. An excellent example is in H a r k q d n Skolcton, published by Robert Sayer in 177.2. The second sequence begins with Clown alone in the old anatomist’s study filled with pots, potions and stuKed animals, a s well as a human skeleton in the closet (see Fig.T). When the upper flap is raised, the skeleton seems to Lalie a step out of the closet (Fig.2). By looking at the illustrations alone, a viewer can follow the story and appreciate the joke.’4 The humour lies mainly in observing the effects on Clown that are depicted in detail in the illustrations. His expression of horror is delineated by his facial expressions and by his bodily attitudes. When the flap is lifted, his torso swivels around and his arms move around the body to signal very effectively his reaction to the skeleton (Fig.2). When the lower flap is lifted, he takes flight (Fig.3). At the same time, Harlequin in his skeleton costume is shown performing his simple trick: standing in the closet and then walking forward on tiptoe.

What we find, then, is that the flaps provide a means of suggesting motion. One technique is by the careful overlaying of images in relation to the break created by the flap. Here the focus on the reaction ofClown is broken down into stages and each lift of the flap gives the viewer more visual information. When the flaps are lifted his body becomes animated. Because the figure of Harlequin is restricted to the upper flap, his animation seems to be achieved by placing slightly different poses one over the other, so when the reader lifts up the flap, the slteleton apparently pops out of the closet. This trick is repeated in a more aggressive way at the end ofthe text when he emerges in full dress with his bat lifted and moves forward to confront the old anatomist waiting for him. Eoth characters appear to move downstage: an uninitiated readerlviewcr might be surprised by the effect of their sudden movements. Since the depiction of movement recalls that of the much later comic-strip narrative. or two page-flicks of a flick-book. the harlequinade’s visual representation of action might be considered as an instance of early animation or pre-cinema effect. Dance historiographer Joseph Koach remarks that in the eighteenth century aesthetic theorists of dance had sought for a pre-cinematic graphic medium to depict movement and produced ‘ingenious’ if ‘largely impractical’ suggestions. He notes that Hogarth proposed a linear schematisation of stage movement based on his undulating curved line.” The Sayer harlequinade might well be considered a much more successful and ingenious mcchanism, though obviously able to show only limited movements. The effectiveness lies in the

I . C’lown in the study. From Robert Sayers’ Harlrquin Skeleton. Kcproduced courtesy of the Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books,

‘l’oronto Public Library, Canada

2 . Harlequin Skeleton walks out of closet. From Robert Sayers’ Hurkquin Skeleton. Reproduced courtesy of the Osborne Collection of

Early Children’s Books, Toronto Public Library, Canada

3 . C’lown runs away. From Robert Sayers’ IJirrleqiiin Skdoton. Rcproduccd courtcsy of the Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books,

Toronto Public Librarv. Canada

Pmtornirno, Harlequiriades rind Childrm 421

complex design (words, illustrations and flaps), but only in combination with a participatory relationship with the readerjviewer.

As with the eighteenth-century pantomime as a whole, children were not the only intended audience of the early harlequinade books, but they formed an important component of their intended consumers. Records of children’s attendance at pantomime are scarce, but one of Charles Lamb’s supposedly autobiographical Essays of Elin (1820-1833) is suggestive. In ‘My First Play’, Mia’ recalled how delighted he was with the pantomimes he saw when aged six in 1781-1782; indeed, he recollected much less about the other pieces performed on those nights than he did about the pantomime sections. ‘No such pleasure has since visited me but in dreams’, he claimed. And he remembered how earnestly he took these performances: ‘The clownery and pantaloonery of these pantomimes have clean passed out of my head. I believe, I no more laughed at them, than at the same age 1 should have been disposed to laugh at the grotesque Gothic heads (seeming to me then replete with devout meaning) that gape, and grin, in stone around the inside of the old Round Church (my church) of the Templars.’ His response to another pantomime, ‘Lun’s Ghost’ (an allusion to John Rich, stage-named ‘Lun’, one of the most celebrated Harlequins and who had died in r761), was just as serious. What impressed him most was the almost sacred history of the form: ‘Lun was as remote a piece of antiquity as Lud’, he wrote, and ‘the father, of a line of Harlequins - transmitting his dagger of lath (the wooden sceptre) through countless ages’.’‘ If Lamb’s strong (if perhaps unusually serious response) is typical of other young theatre attendees, it is hardly surprising that some enterprising publishers sought to capitalise on the deep impression these performances were evidently malting on their young spectators.

The first printer-publishers to venture into this market by producing harlequinade flap-boolts were already firmly associated with the publication of books, games and various other kinds of activities for children. The Tringham family initially published flap-books that were morally didactic in intent, but they soon produced more playful texts.’7 Their titles’ specification of an audience, as well as the intended locations of sale, openly indicate that this new product was designed primarily for children. For example, their lirst harlequinade, The Shepherd or y e Adventures of Harlequin, was sub-titled New Comic Entertaining Emblems for the Amusement of’ Young Ladii~s & Gentlrrnen. Its full imprint stated that it was ‘invented & Published Oct. 2 3 r770, as the Act directs; by Wm Tringham’ and sold in ‘most of the Rooltsellers, Stationers and Toy Shops of Great Britain & Ireland’ (although in the late eighteenth century, the term ‘toy shop’ was not yet associated exclusively with children’s playthings). For other Tringham harlequinades, it was the subject-matter which showed they were probably directed at the young, perhaps especially adolescent girls, as in the case of Boarding School Romps. Later, in the 1780s, the Tringhams co-published with the celebrated children’s publisher Elizabeth Newbery. ’ ‘

The other early producer of harlequinades was the well-known map and print-seller Kobcrt Sayer. He included many ‘dissected maps’ and painting boolis lor the burgeoning educational games market in his large catalogue of prints lor sale.“’ Sayer tirst began to issue religious flap-books but soon turned to pantomime-based texts, publishing what is usually considered to be the earliest commercial harlequinadc, Hrrrlcquiii’s bwasion, on 7 September I 770. Again, many of Sayer’s plots arc essentially romance texts, such as Dr. I,cisf ( I 771). which begins with two lovers planning to run away together. Others are based on popular entertainmcnts, such as Punch’s P u p p ~ t Show, which is specilically addressed to children at its start: ‘Come lads and lasses all aroundlWnlL in and see the puppet show.’”’

What sets the harlequinades apart from most children’s literature and garncs of the period is their playful, non-didactic nature. Indeed, some of the harlequinadcs can seem positivcly anti-didactic, setting them squarely against the> ort hodoxies of late eighteenth-century childrcn’s commodity culture. Sayer’s !hrkquiri‘s lrwrisiort, the first attempt in this new form, provides a good example. It was loosely based on David Garrick’s tirst speaking pantomime of I 759. 1ie;rding Garrick’s play-script. it is clear that the aim was to establish the centrality of Shakespeare, and a canon of spoken drama on the English stage, against the popular pantomime: John O’Brian calls Harlequiit’s lnvasion ‘an “anli-pantomime” for the way in which it seeks to undercut the genre to which i t seems to declare its afiliation’.‘’ In Sayer’s harlequinade flap-book the plot was much reduced. only the spectacular illusions from the play were retained. and, to a large extent, the play’s purpose was actively subverted. The book opens with the following verse:

Behold the Ship with flying Sails What Height it brings you shall be told To shew French folly still prevails You shall a monster strange behold.

Moral The Son of Nonsense ’tis I mean Turn up m d comment on the scene.

When the vicwcr/rcadcr turns up the flap, Harlequin is metamorphosed from ii ship’s mast and seems to rise up and out of the boat and move towards the viewer. It is a startling. even potentially disturbing effect. Harlequin also looms so large that vcrse seems squashed into the top half of the flap. The verse about Harlequin’s landing reads,

What’s this Descending from the Ship I n such a queer and motly Coat Why faith youll lind he’ll jump & Skip And set loud Laughtcr all afloat.

Moral Yet tho he yields you so much fun

I is nonsense all when all is done. .r 1

When the reader/viewer turns down the flap the Harlequin has landed, the wood having changed into legs.

This spirit of playfulness subverts Garrick’s original didactic intent. The ‘mock morals’ help to set up an opposition between Harlequin’s ‘nonsense’ and Shakespeare’s seriousness. Moreover, Harlequin’s dynamism and vitality contrasts directly with Shakespeare’s inertia. In the last sequence, when the flap is lifted, it is a bust of Shakespeare which appears, shown with two figures. The verse reads,

Sence and Reason here porlrayed Shakespeares bust you may behold. Every word that he has said Ought to be engraved in Gold.

Never heed the silly tale Sence will over all prevail

Moral

Shakespeare’s petrifaction exists in an oppositional relationship with Harlequin’s metamorphosis for inanimate to animate, undermining the ostensible moral.

At the end of the text the narrator addresses the implied reader/viewer as a young person who is an active spectator able to make up his or her own mind about the merits of theatre. The final turn-down shows Harlequin and Colum- bine gracefully kneeling before the Tragic and Comic muses. The verse reads,

Little friends take which you chuse Each is Moral. Each is Good. Tragic or the Comic Muse Moral only Understood.

All that here you read or see Let it to Advantage be.

Moral

This final scene is very mild in comparison to the stage directions at the end of the play-script: ‘Trap bell / Shakespeare rises: Harlequin sinks.’LL The doggerel rhyme of the harlequinade has diminished the original didactic intent of the script, and the harlequinade’s format has subverted the aim of thc play. Instead of presenting Shakespeare as a victor who vanquishes Harlequin to the netherworld, the rhyme presents the two faces of drama as alternatives for the reader to decide between. The final illustration shows the pantomimic characters paying respectful homage to the muses, yet their attitudes of athletic grace provide the most striking element of the representation, not the statues of the muses, nor the bust of Shakespeare. The focus on Harlequin and his youthful energy throughout the flap-book, animated by the playful, interactive reader has overruled didacticism.

As has been seen, harlequinade flap-books can be considcred ‘texts of play’ in multiple ways. The plots are often derived from pantomime productions or

other popular cmtertainments. The visual language of the illustrations draws oil the 'inute rhetoric' o r 'language o f action' of popular performances such t i \ mime and dance. and the ingenious placement of the drawings and folds wmetimcs suggests an animation technique. In thcsc productions, on the physical stage and on the miniature stage of the flap-book, the spectators arc active. critical onloolters. In order to make sense of the flap-book, the reader h a s lo apply his or her hnowlcdgc or 'literacy' from the domain ofthcatre and apply i I l o the ititerprelation of the illustrations of the harlequinades. At the same linic the Iitirlequinade spectator is active physically as well, for in order to niahc. iiieatiitig he or she has to manipulate the components of the text itself. or play with the text. In many case^ the implied reader/viewer/player IS cotistructed ;IS ii participant or collaborator in the performance and may hc. relerred to in the title o r by the narrator of the text RS a young person. 'l'hc interactive or playful format ofthe early harlequinadc itself may suggest ;I youtig reader/viewer. Kare-book curators, such as Clive ITurst a t the I:odleiati Library, consider harlequinade tlap-books to be hybrid texts that contain features of bool\s. toys and games." 'I'hese texts thcrcforc rely on print literacy. visual literacy, pertormance literacy, and a willingness and ;I capac.ity to play with or interact with the text itself. As ii result, anyone seelying t o rescuc~ t hese complex texts from their scholarly neglect, and to undcrst:inti their place it1 the culture of childhood. needs lo undertalw a very tnterdisciplinar~~ project. This must include an investigation of the history of publiciition, l oo lhg at publishers of prints and games a s well as books, t h e rclationshtp hctween visual and word-based materials for children in the pc~iotl. (lie history of intertrctivc media for children, and the relationship witli children ol' popular perforniance genres such ;is the puppet thcatre, the early circits and 1 tic pantoiiiime. When examining the harlequinadc books t hemsclves. such ;I study must surely use ii method of analysis that respects tlietr hybrid lormat ~ part booli. part play, part print, part toy - and that locusc~s 0 1 1 their intcraclivcl design and the construction of the role of the implied 'p1ayc.r'.

NOTES

Puntornimo, Harlrquiniides rind Childrcn 425

7. [Anon. 1. Motlic~r Sliipton, unpaged. 8. T/i<. Ostord liricyc~lcy~erlia of TIIcwfr(J m r l PwJOriiiaiiw, cd. Iknnis Kcnnedy. L vols (Oxford

2 0 0 3 ) , ii. 1 j 8 1 . George Spcaight argues that since this harlequinadc shows the actual stage device in operation the text must have been based on an actual performance ('llarlequin 'Ih-n-llps'. Thmfre N o t r h k 4 5 . 1991 , p.70-82. p.76).

y. [Anon. 1. Boartlirig S ( h d Rornys (lundon i 77 I ), unpaged. 10. 0'13rien. Harlequin Britain. p.79-80: Heather Mcl'herson. 'Picturing 'I'ragcdy: Mrs. Siddons

as the Tragic Muse Revisited'. Eig/itcc,r7t/1-(:(,11t11r!/ Stirrlic~s 3 3 (zooo). p.40 1-4 <(J: Icnnifcr Montagu. Tlw 8xpws iorr of the, Pussioris: T / w Origin tirid l i ! / / i i c v i w of C'litrr-lvs I,(, Hrlrrr 's C'or!/?rcriw surl'(~rprewiaii ~~c~ric'rc7lc~c~l~~artic~1rliBr~ (New Haven. CN I 994): Alan Hughes. 'Art a n d Eighteenth- Century Acting Style'. l'hcwti-c~ Notebook 4 I ( I 9x7). p.24-3 I . 79-Xc). 12% 3 ~ ) .

I I . O'Brien. Htrrlevpirr Britclin, p.Xo. 244, n. 3 0 ; Joseph Koach. Tlie, I'ltr,~/c~r-'s P~ISS~UII: Slirrlic~s in llw Sci(~iic(~ uf'Ac.lirig (Newark, UE i 9x5). p.62-72: Nancy 'L'aylor, 'john Wetivcr a n d the Origins of English Pantomime: A Neoclassical Theory and Practice for llniting Ihnce and 'I'hcalre'. Tllcwtr-c Sul-wy42 (zooi) , p. 1c)i-214 (p.iyh-yX).

I 2. Cyril W. Reaumonl. T k t l istorg o j 'H~ir lq11 i17 (New Yorlc I 967). p. I 22-3 I . See i i lso K. 1. A. Broadbent, A tiistorq ofl'clritorriirtie (New York I 9 I o). p. I XX.

I 3. William Hogarth. T h Aricilysis of K P L I I I ~ ~ , ed. Joseph I3urkc ( I 75 3: Oxford I ~ 1 5 5). p. I 58. 161.

14. (Anon. 1. Hnrl(,quiii Sk&tori (London I 772). I 5. Koach. Tlit Plqer's l'assiorl. p.74. I 6. Lamb. Essays uj'lIlia. p. I 46-47. I 7. Sec my forthcoming article 'Allegorical Metamorphosis and Spectacular 'I'r~~nslormation:

I 8th-Century I4ap Kooks lor Childrcn and Youth'. I'rinwtorl Urriwrsit!/ l , i / ~ r m y Cllrorrich~. Spring 2007.

I X. See Andrew O'Malley. The Mnkirrg offhe Modc~i C ' / i i / d ('lrildiwr's /,itwufiir? r r r r r l C'lri/tll~ootl in f l i p I,ato T:'iglltcwlli Cattlrrrg (Ncw York and London zoo1). p. 107.

I y. (;eorgc Speaighl, T / I P Histury of tlw liriglisli Tog T/w[itrc, (London I <)by), p.67: J i l l Shefrin. Nc~7tlg Diss(~ctut/ / ? w tlw lnstrirrfiori u/ Yourig Ladks t i r id L'cvitlorrrori i l l ( l i e , K i ~ o w l d q ( , u/ ( k Y l $ / ~ ~ I ~ J / l , I / :

Joliri S ~ J ~ / S / X I ~ ; / r r r ~ r l Earl!/ llisswtcd Pirzzlas (Los Angcles I c ) y ) ) . p. I (J.

20. [Anon. 1, P~irlch's P U ~ ~ J C J ~ Show or tlre Hwrioctrs uf Bnr~lrolorrrcw I;(iir (London I 772). 'I'hc copy in the Bodleian Library is erroneously dated I 792.

2 I . John O'ISricn. 'Harlequin Britain: Eighteenth-Century t'anlonlimc and t h e Cultural I,ocation of'Entcrtainment(s)'. Tllnitr-c, Jouriiol 5o ( I c)yX). p.489-5 10 (p.506).

22. [Ilavid Garrickl, H n r l r q ~ i i r ~ ' ~ hivision: A N(w Ptrritorrririic~ (I,ondon I 770). unpaged: T l i r - e ~ ~ Plays /I!/ L)avid (;nrrick, ed. I h a b e t h Stein (New Yorlc I 967). p.46.

2.3. C'hve I lursl. 'Introduction'. Ed ,q ~ / i i / d i m ' s Kooks irf t / w 13orl/e,ir!rr / , i / w u y (Oxford I y) 5).