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It might have, but somehow it didn’t. However, I have kept the copy still, and this book shall be the fortunate medium of introducing the tragedy to the world.

In case any of my readers, as is possible, should be unacquainted with the story of Romulus and Remus, let me say that I believe (but am not quite sure) that they were two twin brothers, both boys, left orphans at an early age, and nursed by a stepmother in the shape of a wolf. They were subsequently discovered, and having grown to manhood, it occurred to Romulus to build Rome. For this modest undertaking Remus chaffed his brother, and practised the high jump over his walls, naturally damaging them considerably. Whereupon Romulus knocked him on the head, and lived happily ever afterwards.

This, briefly, is the story. Now for the tragedy:–

Romulus and Remus; Or, Catching Him On The Hop.

(The sub-title was a concession to the democratic tastes of the present generation, who like to have their curiosity excited without being told too much.)

Dramatis Persona

.

Men. Romulus (a boy). Remus (his brother). John (a shepherd). Faustulus (a policeman).

Women. A Wolf. Mary Ann (a maiden of forty).

[Chorus, Soldiers, Sailors, Volunteers, Bricklayers, Boys, Maidens, and Lictors.]

Act I

.

Scene I

.–A Wood near Rome.

[Enter She-wolf with two boys in her mouth, John following.]

John. She-monster, tell me, what have you got there?

Wolf. Two kids, my John; and dinner-time is near.

Rom. and Rem. Oh my! alas! help! hi! Will no one hear?

John (smacking his lips). Say, gentle Lupus, where didst find them both?

Wolf. Listen! I’ll tell you while you lay the cloth.

(Sings).

I’m a wolf, I’m a wolf, in this big lonely wood,
And I live in a hole in a tree,
And I daily prowl forth in my free, hungry mood
To look for my dinner and tea.
I never object to the wing of a man,
Or a tender young lamb gives me joy;
But what I like best is a slice off the breast,
Or the leg, or the arm, of a boy.
To-day I’m in luck, as you plainly may see
By the morsels that kick in my maw;
Fetch a knife, fork, and spoon, John, for you and for me.
Dinner’s ready! Young boys taste best raw.

Rom.
Oh, impious monster, hold thy howling jaw!
And you, John, to your flocks return once more.
Forbear to talk of eating me and Remus,
You ugly, wicked, ill-conditioned schemers.

[1. Here I should remark that to be strictly accurate my tragedy should be called a tragic opera. It abounds in songs calculated to stir familiar chords in the breasts of a popular and juvenile audience.]

[2. It may here be objected that my heroes are at this time only a few weeks old. But instances of precocious children (especially in tragic drama) are not unheard of; and after careful inquiry the author is not satisfied that in the present case the young persons in question did not speak fluently. Allowance must, of course, be made for youthful inexperience in the matter of rhymes.]

Remus.
D’you hear, you cads? Shut up, and let us be.
You shall not dine off Romulus and me!

John (in alarm).
Upon my word! What if the boys are right?
Friend Lupus, thanks–I’d rather not to-night.

Wolf (scornfully).
What? Do you funk it? Well, I call that rough.

John.
Fact is, I can’t help thinking they’d taste tough.

Rom. and Rem. (excitedly).
We would! we would! we’re awful tough to eat;
We’re only skin and bone and gristle; and no meat.
(They sing).
Two little kids from nurse are we,
Skinny as two kids can be;
Never a bite since yesterday,
Two little kids from nurse.