MACBETH.
| Duncan, King of Scotland | Mr. Chapman. | |
| Malcolm | Mr. Claremont. | |
| Donaldbain | Mr. Menage. | |
| Macbeth | Mr. John Kemble. | |
| Banquo | Mr. Murray. | |
| Fleance | Miss Bristow. | |
| Lenox | Mr. Cresswell. | |
| Rosse | Mr. Brunton. | |
| Witches | Messrs. Blanchard, Farley and Simmons. | |
| Lady Macbeth | Mrs. Siddons. |
THE QUAKER.
| Steady | Mr. Incledon. | |
| Lubin | Mr. Taylor. | |
| Solomon | Mr. Liston. | |
| Gillian | Miss Bolton. | |
| Floretta | Mrs. Liston. |
It was at this period that the great O. P. Row began, of which so much has been said, and sung, and written, that little of novelty or interest could accompany the description of it here. Everybody knows that the O. P. Row originated in the indignation with which the play-going public regarded an increase in the prices of admission of one shilling each person to the boxes, and sixpence to the pit, with which was coupled a considerable increase in the number of private boxes; and everybody knows, moreover, that the before-mentioned play-going public expressed their dissatisfaction night after night in scenes of the most extraordinary and unparalelled nature. The noises made by the audience utterly overwhelmed every attempt that the actors could make to render themselves audible. Not a word that was said on the stage could be distinguished even in the front row of the pit, and the O. P. (Old Price) rioters, fearful that the exercise of their voices would not create sufficient uproar, were in the habit of bringing the most extraordinary variety of curious and ill-toned instruments with them, to add to the noise and discordance of the scene. One gentleman, who constantly seated himself in the boxes, regaled himself and the company with a watchman's rattle, which he sprang vigorously at short intervals throughout the performances; another took his seat regularly every night in the centre of the pit, armed with a large dustman's bell, which he rang with a perseverance and strength of arm quite astounding to all beholders;[52] and a party of three or four pleasant fellows brought live pigs, which were pinched at the proper times, and added considerably to the effect of the performances.
[52] The gentleman who made notes of Grimaldi's recollections subjoins a note to the effect, that the gentleman who rang the bell is a personal acquaintance of his, and that he has repeatedly heard him mention the circumstance, which he looks back upon now as an act of thoughtless folly, but which he considered then as the performance of a sacred duty to the public. He was at that time in his nonage, studying (after a manner) the law; he is now, and has long been, editor of a newspaper published in Sussex.
But rattles, bells, pigs, trumpets, French horns, sticks, umbrellas, catcalls, and bugles, were not the only vocal weapons used upon these occasions: Kemble was constantly called for, constantly came on, and constantly went off again without being able to obtain a hearing. Numbers of Bow-street officers were in regular attendance: whenever they endeavoured to seize the ringleaders, the ringleaders were defended by their partisans, and numerous fights (in one of which a man was nearly killed) resulted. Scarce an evening passed without flaming speeches being made from pit, boxes, and gallery; and sometimes half-a-dozen speeches would be in course of delivery at the same time. The greater portion of the time of the magistrates was occupied in investigations connected with the disturbances, and this state of things continued for nearly seventy nights. Placards were exhibited in every part of the house, principally from the pit; of the quality of which effusions the following may be taken as specimens:
"Notice to the Public.—This house and furniture to be sold, Messrs. John Kemble & Co. declining business."
"Notice to the Public.—The workhouse in Covent Garden has been repaired, and greatly enlarged for the use of the Public."
"Cause of Justice.—John Bull versus John Kemble—verdict for the plaintiff."
A large coffin with the inscription, "Here lies the body of New Prices, who died of the whooping-cough, Sept. 23, 1809, aged six days."
The instant the performances began, the audience, who had been previously sitting with their faces to the stage, as audiences generally do, wheeled round to a man, and turned their backs upon it. When they concluded, which, in consequence of the fearful uproar, was frequently as early as half-past nine o'clock, they united in singing a parody on "God save the King," of which the first verse ran thus:—