MY FIRST PLAY

ATthenorthendofCross-courtthereyetstandsaportal,ofsomearchitecturalpretensions,thoughreducedtohumbleuse,servingatpresentforanentrancetoaprinting-office.Thisolddoorway,ifyouareyoung,reader,youmaynotknowwastheidenticalpitentrancetoOldDrury——GarricksDrury——allofitthatisleft.Ineverpassitwithoutshakingsomefortyyearsfromoffmyshoulders,recurringtotheeveningwhenIpassedthroughittoseemyfirstplay.Theafternoonhadbeenwet,andtheconditionofourgoing(theelderfolksandmyself)was,thattherainshouldcease.WithwhatabeatingheartdidIwatchfromthewindowthepuddles,fromthestillnessofwhichIwastaughttoprognosticatethedesiredcessation!Iseemtorememberthelastspurt,andthegleewithwhichIrantoannounceit.

Wewentwithorders,whichmygodfatherF.hadsentus.Hekepttheoilshop(nowDaviess)atthecornerofFeatherstone-building,inHolborn.F.wasatallgraveperson,loftyinspeech,andhadpretensionsabovehisrank.HeassociatedinthosedayswithJohnPalmer,theedian,whosegaitandbearingheseemedtocopy;ifJohn(whichisquiteaslikely)didnotratherborrowsomewhatofhismannerfrommygodfather.Hewasalsoknownto,andvisitedby,Sheridan.ItwastohishouseinHolbornthatyoungBrinsleybroughthisfirstwifeonherelopementwithhimfromaboarding-schoolatBath——thebeautifulMariaLinley.Myparentswerepresent(overaquadrilletable)whenhearrivedintheeveningwithhisharmoniouscharge——FromeitheroftheseconnexionsitmaybeinferredthatmygodfathercouldmandanorderforthethenDrury-lanetheatreatpleasure——and,indeed,aprettyliberalissueofthosecheapbillets,inBrinsleyseasyautograph,Ihaveheardhimsaywasthesoleremunerationwhichhehadreceivedformanyyearsnightlyilluminationoftheorchestraandvariousavenuesofthattheatre——andhewascontentitshouldbeso.ThehonourofSheridansfamiliarity——orsupposedfamiliarity——wasbettertomygodfatherthanmoney.

F.wasthemostgentlemanlyofoilmen;grandiloquent,yetcourteous.HisdeliveryofthemonestmattersoffactwasCiceronian.HehadtwoLatinwordsalmostconstantlyinhismouth(howoddsoundsLatinfromanoilmanslips!),whichmybetterknowledgesincehasenabledmetocorrect.Instrictpronunciationtheyshouldhavebeensoundedviceversa——butinthoseyoungyearstheyimpressedmewithmoreawethantheywouldnowdo,readarightfromSenecaorVarro——inhisownpeculiarpronunciation,monosyllabicallyelaborated,orAnglicized,intosomethinglikeverseverse.Byanimposingmanner,andthehelpofthesedistortedsyllables,heclimbed(butthatwaslittle)tothehighestparochialhonourswhichSt.Andrewshastobestow.

Heisdead——andthusmuchIthoughtduetohismemory,bothformyfirstorders(littlewondroustalismans!——slightkeys,andinsignificanttooutwardsight,butopeningtomemorethanArabianparadises!)andmoreover,thatbyhistestamentarybeneficenceIcameintopossessionoftheonlylandedpropertywhichIcouldevercallmyown——situateneartheroad-wayvillageofpleasantPuckeridge,inHertfordshire.WhenIjourneyeddowntotakepossession,andplantedfootonmyownground,thestatelyhabitsofthedonordescendeduponme,andIstrode(shallIconfessthevanity?)withlargerpacesovermyallotmentofthreequartersofanacre,withitsmodiousmansioninthemidst,withthefeelingofanEnglishfreeholderthatallbetwixtskyandcentrewasmyown.Theestatehaspassedintomoreprudenthands,andnothingbutanagrariancanrestoreit.

Inthosedayswerepitorders.Beshrewtheunfortablemanagerwhoabolishedthem!——withoneofthesewewent.Irememberthewaitingatthedoor——notthatwhichisleft——butbetweenthatandaninnerdoorinshelter——OwhenshallIbesuchanexpectantagain!——withthecryofnonpareils,anindispensableplay-houseacpanimentinthosedays.AsnearasIcanrecollect,thefashionablepronunciationofthetheatricalfruiteressesthenwas,"Chasesomeoranges,chasesomenumparels,chaseabilloftheplay;"——chaseprochuse.Butwhenwegotin,andIbeheldthegreencurtainthatveiledaheaventomyimagination,whichwassoontobedisclosed——thebreathlessanticipationsIendured!IhadseensomethinglikeitintheplateprefixedtoTroilusandCressida,inRowesShakspeare——thetentscenewithDiomede——andasightofthatplatecanalwaysbringbackinameasurethefeelingofthatevening——Theboxesatthattime,fullofwell-dressedwomenofquality,protectedoverthepit;andthepilastersreachingdownwereadornedwithaglisteringsubstance(Iknownotwhat)underglass(asitseemed),resembling——ahomelyfancy——butIjudgedittobesugar-candy——yet,tomyraisedimagination,divestedofitshomelierqualities,itappearedaglorifiedcandy——Theorchestralightsatlengtharose,those"fairAuroras!"Oncethebellsounded.Itwastoringoutyetonceagain——and,incapableoftheanticipation,Ireposedmyshuteyesinasortofresignationuponthematernallap.Itrangthesecondtime.Thecurtaindrewup——Iwasnotpastsixyearsold——andtheplaywasArtaxerxes!

IhaddabbledalittleintheUniversalHistory——theancientpartofit——andherewasthecourtofPersia.ItwasbeingadmittedtoasightofthepastItooknoproperinterestintheactiongoingon,forIunderstoodnotitsimport——butIheardthewordDarius,andIwasinthemidstofDaniel.Allfeelingwasabsorbedinvision.Gorgeousvests,gardens,palaces,princesses,passedbeforeme.Iknewnotplayers.IwasinPersepolisforthetime;andtheburningidoloftheirdevotionalmostconvertedmeintoaworshipper.Iwasawe-struck,andbelievedthosesignificationstobesomethingmorethanelementalfires.Itwasallenchantmentandadream.Nosuchpleasurehassincevisitedmebutindreams——HarlequinsInvasionfollowed;where,Iremember,thetransformationofthemagistratesintoreverendbeldamsseemedtomeapieceofgravehistoricjustice,andthetailorcarryinghisownheadtobeassoberaverityasthelegendofSt.Denys.

ThenextplaytowhichIwastakenwastheLadyoftheManor,ofwhich,withtheexceptionofsomescenery,veryfainttracesareleftinmymemory.Itwasfollowedbyapantomime,cal]edLunsGhost——asatirictouch,Iapprehend,uponRich,notlongsincedead——buttomyapprehension(toosincereforsatire),LunwasasremoteapieceofantiquityasLud——thefatherofalineofHarlequins——transmittinghisdaggeroflath(thewoodensceptre)throughcountlessages.IsawtheprimevalMotleyefromhissilenttombinaghastlyvestofwhitepatch-work,liketheapparitionofadeadrainbow.SoHarlequins(thoughtI)lookwhentheyaredead.

Mythirdplayfollowedinquicksuccession.ItwastheWayoftheWorld.IthinkImusthavesatatitasgraveasajudge;for,Iremember,thehystericaffectationsofgoodLadyWishfortaffectedmelikesomesolemntragicpassion.RobinsonCrusoefollowed;inwhichCrusoe,manFriday,andtheparrot,wereasgoodandauthenticasinthestory——Theclowneryandpantalooneryofthesepantomimeshavecleanpassedoutofmyhead.Ibelieve,Inomorelaughedatthem,thanatthesameageIshouldhavebeendisposedtolaughatthegrotesqueGothicheads(seemingtomethenrepletewithdevoutmeaning)thatgape,andgrin,instonearoundtheinsideoftheoldRoundChurch(mychurch)oftheTemplars.

Isawtheseplaysintheseason1781-2,whenIwasfromsixtosevenyearsold.Aftertheinterventionofsixorsevenotheryears(foratschoolallplay-goingwasinhibited)Iagainenteredthedoorsofatheatre.ThatoldArtaxerxeseveninghadneverdoneringinginmyfancy.Iexpectedthesamefeelingstoeagainwiththesameoccasion.Butwedifferfromourselveslessatsixtyandsixteen,thanthelatterdoesfromsix.InthatintervalwhathadInotlost!AtthefirstperiodIknewnothing,understoodnothing,discriminatednothing.Ifeltall,lovedall,wonderedall-

Wasnourished,Icouldnottellhow-

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Ihadleftthetempleadevotee,andwasreturnedarationalist.Thesamethingsweretherematerially;buttheemblem,thereference,wasgone——Thegreencurtainwasnolongeraveil,drawnbetweentwoworlds,theunfoldingofwhichwastobringbackpastages,topresent"aroyalghost,"——butacertainquantityofgreenbaize,whichwastoseparatetheaudienceforagiventimefromcertainoftheirfellow-menwhoweretoeforwardandpretendthoseparts.Thelights——theorchestralights——cameupaclumsymachinery.Thefirstring,andthesecondring,wasnowbutatrickofthepromptersbell——whichhadbeen,likethenoteofthecuckoo,aphantomofavoice,nohandseenorguessedatwhichministeredtoitswarning.Theactorsweremenandwomenpainted.Ithoughtthefaultwasinthem;butitwasinmyself,andthealterationwhichthosemanycenturies——ofsixshorttwelve-months——hadwroughtinme——Perhapsitwasfortunateformethattheplayoftheeveningwasbutanindifferentedy,asitgavemetimetocropsomeunreasonableexpectations,whichmighthaveinterferedwiththegenuineemotionswithwhichIwassoonafterenabledtoenteruponthefirstappearancetomeofMrs.SiddonsinIsabelIa.Comparisonandretrospectionsoonyieldedtothepresentattractionofthescene;andthetheatrebecametome,uponanewstock,themostdelightfulofrecreations.