“Oh! no,” rejoined Mr. Mist, “that cock don't crow now: this gentleman, I assure you, has been at a theatrical school; he was instructed by the person who made Master Bettv a young Roscius.”
Tom shook his head, as if he doubted the abilities of this instructed actor. To be a performer, he thought as arduous as to be a poet; and if poeta nascitur, non fit—consequently an actor must have natural abilities.
“And pray what character did this gentleman enact at Drury-lane Theatre?”
“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,” answered Mr. Mist—“Shakespeare is his favourite author.”
“And what said the critics—'to be, or not to be'—I suppose he repeated the character?”
“Oh! Sir, it was stated in the play-bill, that he met with great applause, and he was announced for the character again; but, as the Free List was not suspended, and our amateur dreaded some hostility from that quarter, he performed the character by proxy, and repeated it at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket.”
“Then the gentlemen of the Free List,” remarked Bob, “are free and easy?”
“Yes—yes—they laugh and cough whenever they please: indeed, they are generally excluded whenever a full house is expected, as ready money is an object to the poor manager of Drury-lane Theatre. The British Press, however, is always excepted.”
“The British press!—Oh! you mean the newspapers,” exclaimed Tom—“then I dare say they were very favourable to this Amateur of Fashion?”
“No—not very—indeed; they don't join the manager in his puffs, notwithstanding his marked civility to them: one said he was a methodist preacher, and sermonized the character—another assimilated him to a school-boy saying his lesson—in short, they were very ill-natured—but hush—here he is—walk in, gentlemen, and you shall hear him rehearse some of King Richard”—