'Such a calamity,' says Tunicú, 'has happened ten years ago, when the earth opened, and many buildings, including the cathedral, fell like packs of cards to the ground. The inhabitants fled in terror from the town and encamped for many days and nights in the neighbouring country, where one is comparatively out of danger.'
Before daylight, another 'temblor,' or trembling of the earth, is felt, but, like its predecessor, it is unattended with disastrous consequences.
CHAPTER XVII.
CUBAN THEATRICALS.
The Stage Door-Keeper—A Rehearsal—The Spanish Censor—A Cuban Audience—Dramatic Performances—Between Acts—Behind the Scenes—A Dénouement in Real Life.
A Call for seven A.M. would hardly meet with a punctual response were such an announcement posted behind the stage-door of a London theatre; but in Cuba the more important business of the day is transacted during the cool hours of the morning, and it does not surprise Roscius of the West Indies when he finds himself summoned to a theatrical rehearsal some three or four hours before breakfast. After that meal, Roscius makes up for lost sleeping-time by taking a long siesta till the hour of dinner.
During rehearsal, in the theatre I am describing, the doors are open to the public, and, there being nothing to pay for admission, the stalls and private boxes are always well filled by a not very select audience. Gentlemen of colour are not inadmissible on these occasions; hats may be worn at pleasure, and smoking is so far from being strictly prohibited, that manager and actors themselves set the example. I am tempted to stroll into the theatre during rehearsal, because it is a refreshing lounge after toiling up the stony, hilly, Cuban streets, and because I may gather a new fact or two connected with life behind the Cuban curtain, from my friend who is popularly known as El Marquesito del Queso. El Marquesito is a great authority in matters theatrical. He resides permanently in the building itself, and is paid for taking care of it by night and by day. He is, besides, property-man, costumier, and a good mimic, often obliging the manager by imitating the bark of a dog, the crow of a cock, or the bray of a donkey behind the wings. At the end of the season he is allowed half a benefit, on which occasion only he delights his numerous patrons by enacting the fore-paws in a dancing donkey, to the tune of the Zapateo, a popular negro double-shuffle. In carnival time, El Marquesito lets out dominoes and masks of his own manufacture, or faded theatrical costumes and properties; and whenever the Captain-General honours the town with his august presence, it devolves upon my friend to superintend the decorations of the houses and those of the theatre, where a grand ball to celebrate the event is held.
His imposing nickname of El Marquesito del Queso, is derived from the fact that the property-man is in the habit of supping on 'queso' or cheese, and of afterwards making believe that he has feasted like a young Marquis.
The curtain being raised for rehearsal, discloses the whole strength of a very fair company of Spanish actors. None of them bear the conventional air of strolling players; the men are moustached, and fashionably attired, and the women, from leading lady to insignificant super, are elegantly dressed. Apropos of supers, El Marquesito assures me it is no easy matter to secure the invaluable services of a genuine white for these purposes. A white lady is not to be had for love or money; and when fairies are required for a burlesque, the children of respectable families are sometimes prevailed upon to appear. Male supers are not so scarce; Spanish soldiers may occasionally be hired; and when these are otherwise engaged, a dozen stage-struck youths of good family volunteer their services as chorus, crowd, or army. The important rôles of quadruped and agitated water are filled by negroes, who, in Cuba, are, of course, plentiful as blackberries; but when a real black face is required to figure in the performance, it is represented by a painted mulatto, for Spanish law in Cuba is strict, and prohibits the genuine article from appearing on the stage. The theatre opens four times a week, including Sunday, and the entertainment is varied every night. To-day the company rehearse a local drama, a zarzuela, and a farce called 'Un Cuarto con dos Camas' being a version of Morton's 'Double-bedded Room.' A famous actor from Spain is the star of the present season. At rehearsal he is a fallen star, being extremely old and shaky, but at night his make-up is wonderful, and he draws large audiences, who witness his great scene of a detected thief in convulsions. The prompter is seated under a cupola in the centre of the stage near the footlights, as at the opera, and his duties are arduous. It devolves upon him to read over the part of each performer in a suppressed tone, and to direct their manner of exit and their position on the stage. He is unseen by the audience, but often heard by them, for the actors have only a faint notion of their parts, and cannot repeat a line at night without having it first hissed at them by their friend at the footlights.
El Marquesito del Queso has much to say upon the subject of censorship of plays in Cuba. A play, he tells me, cannot be acted before it has been first submitted to the censor, who, empowered by government, is at liberty to place his red mark of disapproval over any word, line, or passage which he may deem offensive to Spanish morality or to Spanish politics. There is no rule attached to this dramatic censorship, and each censor, in every town throughout the island, has his own way of passing judgment; thus, what would suit the politics and morality of Havana, might be considered treasonable and profane at Santiago, and vice versâ. A capital comedy is often so mutilated by the Cuban censor as to be rendered dramatically unfit for representation.