Who's the Composer? is the interrogative title of a lively
little piece with an ingeniously-constructed plot, produced at the Haymarket with good success. In the French repertory from which it is taken, it would perhaps be styled comedic-vaudeville, if it be not the libretto of an operetta: but the English performers convert it into a bustling farce. The incidents arise out of the mischances attending a certain serenade, or love-ditty, addressed by an amorous Marquis and Minister of State to a Grand Dutchess, in whose possession it is discovered by the Grand Duke. To find out who's the composer" is a task that baffles the Court—as well it may; for the Marquis had it from a music-master, who stole it from his pupil, who got it from a sentimental count; and as it is traced to each in succession, they all in turn dread the displeasure of the Court, and the lovers incur in addition the jealous anger of their mistresses. This imbroglio is a fruitful source of those clever situations and amusing equivoques that are so pleasant in the hands of French actors, but do not admit of' the farcical extravagance or melodramatic intensity of our stage. Nevertheless, Buckstone as the composer, by his ridiculous costume and grimaces, created merriment that gave the cue for fun; and, the audience taking it up, Hudson's bois terous vivacity as the pupil, and Tilbury's buffoonery as the Marquis, proved more potential than the hoydenish sprightliness of Miss Julia Ben- nett or the quiet ladylike cheerfulness of Miss Fortescne. The serenade was nicely sung by Hudson, and the piece is well put on the stage; but it is evident that the spirit and purpose of the original, whatever it may be, are not truly represented in this version.
The French Plays, at the St. James's, open on Monday, with M. Lafortt and Mdlle. St. Marc in La Soutnambule, and M. Lafont as Henri Quatre.
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