In "[Macbeth]" I was again associated with Ryder, who was the Banquo when I was Fleance, and I remember that after we had been dismissed by Macbeth: "Good repose the while," we had to go off up a flight of steps. I always stayed at the top until the end of the scene, but Mr. Ryder used to go down the other side rather heavily, and Mr. Kean, who wanted perfect quiet for the dagger speech, had to keep on saying: "Ssh! ssh!" all through it.
"Those carpenters at the side are enough to ruin any acting," he said one night when he came off.
"I'm a heavy man, and I can't help it," said Ryder.
"Oh, I didn't know it was you," said Mr. Kean—but I think he did! One night I was the innocent cause of a far worse disturbance. I dozed at the top of the steps and rolled from the top to the bottom with a fearful crash! Another night I got into trouble for not catching Mrs. Kean when, as Constance, in "[King John]," she sank down on to the ground.
"Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it!"
I was, for my sins, looking at the audience, and Mrs. Kean went down with a run, and was naturally very angry with me!
In 1860 the Keans gave up the management of the [Princess's Theater] and went to America. They traveled in a sailing vessel, and, being delayed by a calm, had to drink water caught in the sails, the water supply having given out. I believe that although the receipts were wonderful, Charles Kean spent much more than he made during his ten years of management. Indeed, he confessed as much in a public announcement. The Princess's Theater was not very big, and the seats were low-priced. It is my opinion, however, that no manager with high artistic aims, resolute to carry them out in his own way, can ever make a fortune.
Of the other members of the company during my three years at the Princess's, I remember best [Walter Lacy], who was the [William Terriss] of the time. He knew Madame Vestris, and had many entertaining stories about her. Then there were the [Leclercqs], two clever sisters, Carlotta and Rose, who did great things later on. Men, women and children alike worked hard, and if the language of the actors was more Rabelaisian than polite, they were good fellows and heart and soul devoted to their profession. Their salaries were smaller and their lives were simpler than is the case with actors now.
Kate and I had been hard at work for some years, but our parents had no notion of our resting. We were now to show what our training had done for us in "[A Drawing-room Entertainment]."