"… succeeding Richards took the cue, And hence his style, if not the colour, drew."[A]
[Footnote A: Justice has scarcely been done to Ryan's merit. Garrick, on going with Woodward to see his Richard with a view of being amused, owned that he was astonished at the genius and power he saw struggling to make itself felt through the burden of ill-training, uncouth gestures, and an ungraceful and slovenly figure. He was generous enough to own that all the merit there was in his own playing of Richard he had drawn from studying this less fortunate player.—PERCY FITZGERALD.]
Like Mrs. Porter, Ryan was a youthful disciple of Betterton, and was brought to the notice of Roscius in a curious fashion. One day, when Lacy had just begun, as a boy of sixteen or seventeen, to court the dramatic muses, he was cast for the rôle of Seyton, the old officer who attends on Macbeth, and was, no doubt, charmed with the assignment. To wait upon Macbeth, in however humble a capacity, was in itself no mean honour, and when the aforesaid Macbeth would be Betterton himself, the importance of the task was re-doubled.
That afternoon Ryan came on the stage in all the glory of a full-bottomed wig (imagine playing Shakespeare these days with full-bottomed wigs) and a smiling young face, being very much pleased with himself and the world in general. To Betterton, who had expected to see in Seyton a henchman of mature years, and who up to this moment had been unconscious of Lacy's existence, the appearance of the boy came as a shock. Had the witches of the tragedy been turned into beautiful children he could not have been more surprised. However, he gave the new Seyton an encouraging look, and the stripling played the part in a way to earn the approbation of the great actor. After the performance was over, Betterton scolded old Downes, the prompter, for "sending a child to him instead of a man advanced in years."
This anecdote seems to show that the art of "make-up" had not reached perfection in those times, for a few well-put strokes of the pencil should have destroyed the juvenile aspect of Seyton. It must not be supposed, nevertheless, that the decoration of the face was unknown, and an entry in Pepys' delightful diary proves that "make-up" of a certain kind flourished at the Restoration. "To the King's house," says Pepys, "and there going in met with Knipp, and she took us up into the tireing-rooms;[A] and to the women's shift, where Nell (Gwyne) was dressing herself, and was all unready, and is very pretty, prettier than I thought. (Imagine the gloating eyes of the old hypocrite.) And into the scene-room, and there sat down, and she gave us fruit: and here I read the questions to Knipp, while she answered me, through all her part of 'Flora's Figarys,' which was acted to-day. But, Lord! to see how they were both painted, would make a man mad, and did make me loath them: and what base company of men comes among them; and how loudly they talk! And how poor the men are in clothes, and yet what a show they make on the stage by candle-light, is very observable. But to see how Nell cursed, for having so few people in the pit, was strange," et cetera.[B]
[Footnote A: Mrs. Knipp was an actress belonging to the King's Company and Mr. Pepys had for her a timid admiration.]
[Footnote B: In his notes to Cibber's "Apology," Lowe suggests the plausible theory that young actors playing "juveniles" did not use any "make-up" or paint, but went on the stage with their natural complexion. He instances this paragraph from Cibber: "The first thing that enters into the head of a young actor is that of being a heroe: In this ambition I was soon snubb'd by the insufficiency of my voice; to which might be added an uniform'd meagre person (tho' then not ill-made) with a dismal pale complexion.">[
To leave the merry days of Charles II, and wander back to those of Queen Anne, it may be said that Ryan made his first success as the Marcus in the original production of "Cato." It was a success rather added to than otherwise by an adventure of which this actor was the unfortunate victim. "In the run of that celebrated tragedy," writes Chetwood, "he was accidently brought into a fray with some of our Tritons on the Thames; and, in the scuffle, a blow on the nose was given him by one of these water-bullies, who neither regard men or manners. I remember, the same night, as he was brought on the bier, after his suppos'd death in the fourth act of 'Cato,' the blood, from the real wound in the face, gush'd out with violence; that hurt had no other effect than just turning his nose a little, tho' not to deformity; yet some people imagine it gave a very small alteration to the tone of his voice, tho' nothing disagreeable." And a very good advertisement it was, no doubt.
In later years another much-discussed accident befell Mr. Ryan. As he was going home from the theatre one night, the actor was attacked by a footpad, and received in his face two bullets which broke a portion of his jaw. "By the help of a lamp [again is the quotation from Chetwood] the robber knew Mr. Ryan, as I have been inform'd, begg'd his pardon for his mistake, and ran off. Of this hurt, too, he recover'd, after a long illness, and play'd with success, as before, without any seeming alteration of voice or face. His Royal Highness, upon this accident (was it the Prince of Wales, afterwards George II?) sent him a handsome present; and others, of the nobility, copy'd the laudable example of the second illustrious person in the three kingdoms."
This was Lacy Ryan, who in his time played many different parts, among them Iago, Hamlet, Macduff, Captain Plume, and Orestes. He was not in any sense of the word a great actor, but he well adorned the station of theatrical life in which it had pleased heaven to place him, and strutted his lengthy hour upon the stage with much satisfaction to his companions and the public. Even when Ryan had to kill a bully in self-defence (it was a fellow named Kelly, who loved to haunt the coffee-houses, pick quarrels with peaceable citizens, and then half murder them), the world looked on approvingly, and averred that the player had acted with his usual conscientiousness.