The result of this rehearsal and of the three rehearsals that followed it during the week, was more than encouraging to the actors, and it became understood that Woodward and Gentleman Smith were ready to admit their regret at having relinquished the parts for which they had been originally cast. The former had asked to be permitted to speak the prologue, which Garrick had written, and, upon which, as he had told Goldsmith, he had already given a hint or two to Woodward.
The difficulty of the epilogue, however, still remained. The one which Murphy had written for Mrs. Bulkley was objected to by Miss Catley, who threatened to leave the company if Mrs. Bulkley, who had been merely thrust forward to take Mrs. Abington's place, were entrusted with the epilogue; and, when Cradock wrote another for Miss Catley, Mrs. Bulkley declared that if Miss Catley were allowed the distinction which she herself had a right to claim, she would leave the theatre. Goldsmith's ingenuity suggested the writing of an epilogue in which both the ladies were presented in their true characters as quarreling on the subject; but Colman placed his veto upon this idea and also upon another simple epilogue which the author had written. Only on the day preceding the first performance did Goldsmith produce the epilogue which was eventually spoken by Mrs. Bulkley.
“It seems to me to be a pity to waste so much time discussing an epilogue which will never be spoke,” sneered Colman when the last difficulties had been smoothed over.
Goldsmith walked away without another word, and joined his party, consisting of Johnson, Reynolds, Miss Reynolds, the Bunburys and Mary Horneck. Now that he had done all his work connected with the production of the play—when he had not allowed himself to be overcome by the niggardly behaviour of the manager in declining to spend a single penny either upon the dresses or the scenery, that parting sneer of Colman's almost caused him to break down.
Mary Horneck perceived this, and hastened to say something kind to him. She knew so well what would be truly encouraging to him that she did not hesitate for a moment.
“I am glad I am not going to the theatre to-night,” she said; “my dress would be ruined.”
He tried to smile as he asked her for an explanation.
“Why, surely you heard the way the cleaners were laughing at the humour of the play,” she cried. “Oh, yes, all the cleaners dropped their dusters, and stood around the boxes in fits of laughter. I overheard one of the candle-snuffers say that no play he had seen rehearsed for years contained such wit as yours. I also overheard another man cursing Mr. Col-man for a curmudgeon.”
“You did? Thank God for that; 't is a great responsibility off my mind,” said Goldsmith. “Oh, my dear Jessamy Bride, I know how kind you are, and I only hope that your god-child will turn out a credit to me.”
“It is not merely your credit that is involved in the success of this play, sir,” said Johnson. “The credit of your friends, who insisted on Colman's taking the play, is also at stake.”