To sleep!—perchance to be bitten! ay—there's the scratch:
And in that sleep of ours what bugs may come,
Must give us pause.
Thursday, 20th.
Rose at eight. After breakfast, went to rehearse Romeo and Juliet. Poor Mr. Keppel is fairly laid on the shelf; I'm sorry for him! What a funny passion he had, by the by, for going down upon his knees. In Fazio, at the end of the judgment scene, when I was upon mine, down he went upon his, making the most absurd devout-looking vis-à-vis I ever beheld: in the last scene, too, when he ought to have been going off to execution, down he went again upon his knees, and no power on earth could get him up again, for Lord knows how long. Poor fellow, he bothered me a good deal, yet I'm sincerely sorry for him. At the end of our rehearsal, came home. The weather is sunny, sultry, scorching, suffocating. Ah! Mr. —— called. This is an indifferent imitation of bad fine manners amongst us; "he speaks small, too, like a gentleman." He sat for a long time, talking over the opera, and all the prima donnas in the world. When he was gone, Mr. —— and Mr. —— called.
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The latter asked us to dinner to-morrow, to meet Dr. ——, who, poor man, dares neither go to the play nor call upon us, so strict are the good people here about the behaviour of their pastors and masters. By the by, Essex called this morning to fetch away the Captain's claret-jug: he asked my father for an order; adding, with some hesitation, "It must be for the gallery, if you please, sir, for people of colour are not allowed to go to the pit, or any other part of the house." I believe I turned black myself, I was so indignant. Here's aristocracy with a vengeance! —— called with Forrest, the American actor. Mr. Forrest has rather a fine face, I think. We dined at three: after dinner, wrote journal, played on the piano, and frittered away my time till half-past six. Went to the theatre: the house was very full, and dreadfully hot. My father acted Romeo beautifully: I looked very nice, and the people applauded my gown abundantly. At the end of the play I was half dead with heat and fatigue: came home and supped, lay down on the floor in absolute meltiness away, and then came to bed.
Friday, 21st.
Rose at eight. After breakfast went to rehearsal. The School for Scandal; Sir Peter, I see, keeps his effects to himself; what a bore this is, to be sure! Got out things for the theatre. While eating my lunch, Mr. —— and his cousin, a Mr. —— (one of the cleverest lawyers here), called.