For its mise-en-scene alone the revival should attract all London.  But there is more than this—­there is the clever and careful impersonation of Enobarbus by His Gracious Heaviness, Mr. ARTHUR STIRLING; then there is a lighter-comedy touch in the courteous and gentlemanly rendering of Octavius Caesar by Mr. F. KEMBLE COOPER—­one of the best things in the piece, but from the inheritor of two such good old theatrical names, much is expected.  And then there is the Mark Antony of Mr. CHARLES COGHLAN, a rantin’, roarin’ boy, this Antony, whom no one, I believe, could ever have made really effective; and finally.  Her Graceful Majesty, Mrs. LANGTRY, Queen of Egyptian Witchery.  Now honestly I do not consider Cleopatra a good part, nor is the play a good play for the matter of that.  I believe it never has been a success, but if, apart from the really great attraction of gorgeous spectacular effects, there is any one scene above another which might well draw all London, it is the death of Cleopatra, which to my mind is—­after the fall of WOLSEY, and a long way after, too,—­one of the most pathetic pictures ever presented on the stage.  So lonely in her grandeur, so grand, and yet so pitiable in her loneliness is this poor Queen of Beauty, this Empress-Butterfly, who can conquer conquerors, and for whose sake not only her noble lovers, but her poor humble serving-maids, are willing to die.

[Illustration:  The Run of Cleopatra.]

Her last scene is beyond all compare her best, and to those who are inclined to be disappointed with the play after the first Act is over I say, “Wait for the end,” and don’t leave until the Curtain has descended on that gracious figure of the Queen of Egypt, attired in her regal robes, crowned with her diadem, holding her sceptre, but dead in her chair of state. Ca donne a penser.

The Gaiety.—­In calling their burlesque Carmen up to Data, possibly the two dear clever boys who wrote it intended some crypto-jocosity of which the hidden meaning is known only to the initiated in these sublime mysteries.  Why “Data”?  On the other hand, “Why not?”

However attractive or not as a heading in a bill of the play, the Gaiety Carmen is, on the whole, a merry, bright, and light burlesque-ish piece, though, except in the costume and make-up of Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS as Captain Zuniga, there is nothing extraordinarily “burlesque” in the appearance of any of the characters, as the appearance of Mr. HORACE MILLS as Remendado belongs more to Christmas pantomime than to the sly suggestiveness of real burlesque.

[Illustration:  Scene from the Cigarette History of Carmen.]

As Miss ST. JOHN simply looks, acts, and sings as a genuine Carmen, I can only suppose that her voice is not strong enough for the real Opera; otherwise I doubt whether any better operatic impersonator of the real character could be found.  She is not the least bit burlesque, and though the songs she has to sing are nothing like so telling as those she has had given her in former pieces, yet, through her rendering, most are encored, and all thoroughly appreciated.