We met! 'twas at the ball, Upon last Easter Monday; I press'd you to be mine, And you said, "Perhaps, one day." I danced with you the whole Of that night, and you only; Ah, ne'er "cavalier seul" Felt more wretched and lonely. For when I squeezed your hand, As we turned one another, You frown'd and said, "Have done! Or I'll speak to my mother!" They called the Spanish dance, And we flew through it fleetly-- 'Twas o'er--I could not breathe, For you'd blown me completely. I led you to a seat Far away from the dancers; Quadrilles again began, They were playing "the Lancers"; Again I squeezed your hand, And my anguish to smother You smiled, and said, "Dear Sir, _You_ may speak to my mother." In 1861 Perseus and Andromeda reappeared upon the comic stage at the instance of William Brough, who made them the hero and heroine of a burlesque at the St. James's. The story of Telemachus was the subject which engaged the attention of Planché immediately after he had done with Perseus. Fénelon's tale had become extremely familiar to the British schoolboy, who at that time was not thought to have "grounded" himself sufficiently in French until he had read the narrative in the original. Hence Planché's "Telemachus, or the Island of Calypso,"[10] concerning which the author took credit to himself once more for having "preserved the well-known plot with the most reverential fidelity." Ten years later the same subject was treated in the "Telemachus" of Stirling Coyne, played at the Adelphi with Miss Woolgar in the title-part, Wright as Calypso (a ballet-dancer!) and Paul Bedford as the hero's Mentor or "tor-Mentor." In 1863 the story of the parents of Telemachus proved attractive to Mr. Burnand, whose "Patient Penelope" made her curtsey at the Strand, to be followed at the St. James's, two years later, by the same writer's "Ulysses." [10] Played at the Olympic in 1834.