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Seems rather strange, and, at first sight,
Might very well surprise one;
You'll own her scheme a wise one.
For, surely, every niodest belle,
Of wedded joys ambitious,
And think her plan judicious.
Till one great point is carried,
Nor wear them till you're married.
A DULL COMEDY.
When Sir Charles Sedley's comedy of “ Bellamira” was performed, the roof of the theatre fell down ; by which, however, few people were hurt, except the author. This occasioned Sir Fleetwood Shepherd to say, that there was so much fire in his play, that it blew up poet, house, and all. “No," replied the good-natured author, “the play was so heavy, that it broke down the house, and buried the poor poet in his own rubbish."
THE WHITEFRIARS THEATRE.
This appears to have been one of the most ancient Theatres, as it is enumerated by an author
who wrote in the beginning of the seventeenth century, as one of the play-houses destroyed by the “ cautious citizens” in 1580; at which time, the magistrates of the City obtained leave of Queen Elizabeth, to pull down all the Theatres within their liberties. From this time, there is a complete blank in the history of this theatre, until the year 1613, when a license was granted by James the First, for the erection of a new playhouse on the spot; and it may, therefore, reasonably be concluded, it had remained, during the interval, in ruins. This license was not, however, acted
upon till 1629, when a Theatre was erected under its authority in Salisbury Court; and a company, called the Prince's Servants, performed there until the suppression of the playhouses by the Puritans, in 1648. It was again opened after the Restoration, but soon sunk into obscurity and neglect.
Don Francisco de Quevedo describes an incident in his life of Paul, the Spanish barber :“When I was writing a play," says he, “the maid used to bring up my dinner, and leave it there; and it was my way, to act all I wrote, and talk aloud, as if I had been on the stage. As the d--I would have it, when the maid was coming up
the stairs, which were dark and upright, with the dish of meat and plates in her hands, I was at the time composing a scene of hunting a bear; and being wholly intent upon my play, cried out, as loud as I could,
"Fly, fy the bloody bear ! take heed, I say ;
The poor wench, who was a silly Gallician, hearing me roar that I was killed, and she in danger of becoming a prey to the bear, thought it had been a real matter of fact, and that I called out, to save herself. Upon this conceit, she took to her heels, and treading on her coats in the confusion, tumbled down all the stairs. The soup was spilt, the earthen pots broken, and she ran out, roaring in the street, that a bear was killing a man !"
FOOTE AND MACKLIN.
Foote, who was ever in the two extremes of *fortune, now, exalted to the top of the wheel, and, anon, prostrated at the bottom, happened to be in the latter situation, when he and Macklin once happened to meet. They were in the Bedford Coffee-house, when Foote, perhaps, to keep up the appearance of prosperity, at least, was every now and then displaying a fine gold repeater, which he kept dangling in his hand, or putting to his ear.
At last, he suddenly exclaimed, “ Zounds! my watch is stopped !”—“ Pho! pho!” said Macklin, never mind that, Sam; you may depend upon it, it will soon go."
DURING Young's engagement at Bath, in the winter of 1820-1, “ Henry VIII.” was revived, to exhibit him in the character of Cardinal Wolsey. The representative of one of the bishops, fancying that snuff-taking was a distinguishing characteristic of a churchman, indulged his nose freely throughout the play, forgetting that the scene was laid at a period of nearly fifty years before tobacco was brought into England.
TRUTH WILL OUT.
A MR. Herbert, a country comedian of some celebrity, when a child, and just able to speak sufficiently for the stage, represented the part of the juvenile Duke of York, in “ Richard III.” When he should have said—“Oh! mother, mo
ther!” he made a pause--The daughter of Melpomene, who acted the Queen, gave him the sentence several times, to which he at last replied“Mother! you are not my mother-give me my leather breeches, and let me go home.”
A French dramatist devised a singular method of alluring the public to the representation of his pieces. On the day on which any of them was announced, he set out in the morning, went through all the streets and squares of Paris, stopping at those places where the play-bills were usually posted; and when five or six persons had collected, he would cry at once, in a vehement tone—“ Faith, the French will be treated with an excellent piece to-night, and I'll be there for one.” This peregrination was then continued in the same manner, and its object became, in some measure, successful.
LETTER OF OLD YATES.
“ To the Editor of the Public Advertiser.
Though it is not my profession to write, but to. retail the writings of others, yet, I find the spirit