The beadle, with his three-cornered hat and his brightly trimmed coat and cape, has survived for a century or so after his clothes first became fashionable, and no doubt in the puppet-show he will persist for many years when every living representative of his kind has passed away. (See Figure 155.) Of two more characters we have a word to say,--in the first place, of the doctor, who is brought before us in clothes of almost clerical cut, which remind us of the fact that the members of the medical profession were once more easily recognized by their dress than they are now (see Figure 156); in the second, of Toby, whose sole costume consists of a ruff, that once more takes us back to the time of Good Queen Bess. [Illustration: FIG. 153.--Punch, from the Punch and Judy Show, showing the ruff and other details of Elizabethan costume.] [Illustration: FIG. 154.--Judy, from the Punch and Judy Show, with ruff, mob cap, and apron.] Though Punch has donned new clothes and altered his habits to suit not only the countries in which he sojourned, but the times in which he has performed, yet despite these and other changes that have gone on since he set foot on these islands, there is one thing that has always been his special characteristic. This is his squeaky voice, which he retained even in Molière's play, and it is from the peculiarity of his voice that he gained his name. Pulicinella means a "hen-chicken," which might well be expected to have a squeaky voice. [Illustration: FIG. 155.--The Beadle, from the Punch and Judy Show.] [Illustration: FIG. 156.--The Doctor, from the Punch and Judy Show, with wig and white tie.] With regard to the changes in Punch's behaviour we have a word to say. Originally he was somewhat of a composite character, the constituent elements being derived from several of the personages of the larger theatre. At first, to the amorous and intriguing ways of Pulicinella there was added the roguery of Scaramouch, as well as the dash and braggadocio of the Spanish captain who was a member of the comedy company, akin to the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus and the Bobadil of Ben Jonson. As time went on there was less love-making and trickery and more knocking about, but Mr. Heppel will not allow that the French writers are right in ascribing the whole of this to English influence. For the fact that the puppets are not alive gives an opportunity for dealing blows with a reality that could not be tolerated if the actors were living, and when we remember the way in which dog Toby seizes Punch by the nose, we cannot help feeling that the effect could hardly be so realistically produced on the actual stage.