The first spectacle classic and Shakspearian: t'other burlesquian, and PETTIT-cum-SIMS. The one at the Princess's, the other at the Gaiety. _Place au_ "Divine WILLIAMS"! _Antony and Cleopatra_ is magnificently put on the stage. The costumes are probably O.K.--"all correct"--seeing that Mr. LEWIS WINGFIELD pledges his honourable name for the fact. We might have done with a few less, perhaps, but, as in the celebrated case of the war-song of the Jingoes, if we've got the men, and the money too, then there was every reason why the redoubtable LEWIS (whose name, as brotherly Masons will call to mind, means "Strength") should have put a whole army of Romans on the stage, if it so pleased him. [Illustration: The Last Scene of Antony and Cleopatra.] For its _mise-en-scène_ 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 Cæsar_ 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. _Ça donne à 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?"