he cut his way through the ranks of the vile infidels, and soon left them far behind.

After this adventure he proceeded to a convent situated on a rocky eminence, inhabited by pious nuns, who for the sanctity of their lives were respected even by their Paynim neighbours. Into their care he committed the lovely Ermelinda to recover her strength, and to procure the necessary habiliments suited to her rank, while he and his attendants watched outside the convent walls. He procured also a cream coloured palfry, with gold embroidered accoutrements, and a female attendant to serve as waiting-woman to the noble maid, and on the second day, the party proceeded on their journey, stopping at night at convents or other religious establishments, or at the castle of some noble, for in those days, hostelries, the mark of modern degeneracy and inhospitality, were unknown in the land. We do not attempt to describe the sweet expressions of love and gratitude with which the damsel delighted the heart of her gallant deliverer, nor his protestations of unalterable affection, now listened to with no unwilling ear, as she related to him her sad fate by having been a victim to the curse of the Lobishome, from which she would never have escaped except by death, or having been boldly attacked by some one who should draw blood from her veins and thus break the spell. For many days the brave Count Rodrigo Soares lingered on in misery and despair. He had received the last offices of religion; the dark cowled monks standing round his couch, at the foot of which knelt his wife and weeping children, when the watchman on the tower reported that he saw the pennon of a knight in the distance. A lady and several attendants were afterwards descried, and soon after a horn was sounded at the castle gate, the drawbridge was lowered, and the young stranger knight was seen leading a veiled form into the chamber of the Count. dying noble raised his head, the ladies rose from their knees, the monks started, as throwing back her mantle, there stood in all her pristine loveliness the fair young Ermelinda. "The curse of the Lobishome is removed by the blood which has been shed, yet you had a near squeak for it, Sir Count," croaked forth an old woman who had followed the party into the chamber; "beware in future how you curse and swear." Glancing her single eye round on the assembly, she hobbled out of the apartment, and was no more seen in the neighbourhood of the castle. We need say little more; the Count recovered, and ever proved a strong bulwark to Christendom: the story became known, and now that the dreadful stigma no longer rested on his family, the hands of his daughters were eagerly sought, that of the fair Ermelinda being given to her gallant deliverer.

The

The young bride having sown her wild oats, if she had not eaten them, and having seen a wide extent of the world, in rather a hurried way it must be allowed, became, notwithstanding her former midnight wanderings, a most exemplary and domestic wife, the joy and delight of her noble lord.

150

THEATRICAL RECOLLECTIONS.

BY DRINKWATER MEADOWS.

IN former "6 leaves " I have alluded to country actors occasionally doing strange things, generally from necessity, as to acting characters not in their "line of business," and I shall anon mention several extraordinary exhibitions, which I have witnessed, both in town and country; for London theatres have frequently afforded the public opportunities of seeing strange things in the way of performances on benefit nights, when tragedians have, for the nonce, become singers and comedians; and comedians have endeavoured, in like manner, to transform themselves into tragedians. At present I will notice a few extraordinary doings of London actors when starring in the country." In the summer of 1816 I was a member of the Harrogate company. The theatre was small, neat, and comfortable; we had a succession of stars and good houses. The visitors to this then very fashionable, and still most beautiful watering-place, were liberal in their patronage, and not churlish as to their applause; I have seldom seen a country theatre better or more respectably conducted.

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Amongst other "stars" Mrs. Renaud, "late Mrs. Powell," visited us for four or five nights, during which she acted Elvira in "Pizarro," Euphrasia in "The Grecian Daughter," Alicia in "Jane Shore ; but on the occasion of her benefit and "last appearance," she played Hamlet, an extraordinary circumstance in those days, when actresses were not so much in the habit of "wearing the breeches" and playing male characters as at present. Ladies then, when applying to country managers for an engagement, named in the first place the "line of business" preferred, and if desirous of playing characters in which it might be necessary to dress in male attire, would write, "I am a good breeches figure.'

Mrs. Powell's Hamlet was good; she had seen much of John Kemble, and, no doubt, copied him in a great degree. Her playing the part was considered very strange, and proved very attractive; she looked admirably-her figure was very commanding, her deportment graceful and easy: she was highly applauded, and solicited to repeat the character, which she did, to another crowded house. Strange as this lady's playing the Danish Prince appeared to us all, her acting a part in the farce on the occasion of her benefit, was still more strange, and such a part! one of no consequence or character, a mere trifle, generally acted by some inferior person, there being "nothing to be made of it" whatever. The part was Mrs. Scout in the Village

Lawyer."

We were much puzzled to find out the cause of her selecting the part, but all our conjectures were useless, we could not arrive at a just conclusion, and, therefore, she being a most kind, affable person, free from the "airs and graces" occasionally then met with in stars, we inquired of her why she acted such a part, and so determined to Scout the audience. She told us she had not seen the farce for many years, but that she had never forgotten the effect of Mrs. Scout's flouring Scout's face to make him appear pale and ill when old Snarl comes to visit him. "I laughed immoderately," she said, "and thought it the most comic thing I ever witnessed. I have long de

termined to act the part, in order that I might so use the dredgingbox, and I think I may venture to do so on this occasion; at any rate I will do it, I am determined, especially as the manager says I ought to play in the farce on my own night, and I think I have selected something very opposite to Hamlet!"

Well-act Mrs. Scout she would, and act Mrs. Scout she did. During the evening she spoke frequently of her anticipated pleasure, and said she longed to cast off her "inky cloak" and put on her homely woman's garb. "I have provided myself," said she, "with a large dredging-box; I have borrowed it from my lodgings, for I don't like to trust to your property-man, lest he should give me a small one, not half large enough. I have filled it with hair powder, and shall cover Scout's face to my heart's content. I wish the play was overI long for my joke."

"Thinks I to myself, thinks I," I'll have a joke too-at least I'll try. I found Mrs. Powell had placed the dredging-box on the dressingtable; I watched my opportunity, stole to her dressing-room whilst she was apostrophizing Yorick's skull, emptied the box of its white contents, filled it with lamp-black, with which I had provided myself, and returned to my unsuspecting co-mates, looking "as innocent as a sucking dove."

The play being over, Mrs. Powell hastened to free herself from her male attire and assume a dress of a very opposite description. A child anticipating the gift of a new toy never evinced greater anxiety and impatience than did this lady for the arrival of the time when her joke (mine) was to be performed. She was dressed in an old-fashioned printed gown, coloured stockings, high-heeled shoes with buckles, white hair "combed smoothly over a roll," a prim-looking cap of ancient make, long black mittens, with a white apron and 'kerchief, completed her costume. She was no more like "the glass of fashion, and the mould of form" "than I to Hercules." I never beheld a greater transformation; she looked like a comfortable country old lady, clean and tidy.

The scene commenced in which Scout feigns illness, and in which his wife powders his face to give it the appearance of paleness, (the author has not so set it down, but it has been for years the custom to do it). I saw the lady's eyes sparkle with delight, as she prefaced her colouring by saying, "Now, my dear, let me flour your face to make you appear pale and interesting. I warrant I shall make an excellent nurse; now for the dredging-box." As she took it from the table on the stage, on which she herself had placed it, Scout seated himself in his easy chair, tying a white napkin over his head; she bustled about, screwed the lid of the box tighter, to prevent its falling off, and, placing herself at his side, commenced her dredging. I shall never forget her look of astonishment on finding, not " black, white," but white, black!

For a moment she was transfixed-looked first at the box and then at Scout's face-the discolouration appeared magical to hershe resumed her work, dredged on until his face became quite black, which, contrasted with the white napkin bound over his head and round his face, produced a most ludicrous effect, and excited in no small degree the risible faculties of the audience; but the effect upon Mrs. Powell was painfully laughable. Finding Scout's face of a

colour so very opposite to that which she intended, caused her to laugh so immoderately that I really feared she would burst a bloodvessel, or throw herself into hysterics, for she continued to laugh more violently than I had ever witnessed from any person before; her's was indeed "Laughter holding both his sides," she positively shook again, and I doubted whether she would ever be able to unlaugh herself; to speak was impossible; she tried, but all in vain, and there sat Scout, quite ignorant of the cause, fancying it was the flour and his sick grimaces which caused her laughter and that of the audience, for they by this time had caught the joke and the cause of her mirth.

To add to the comicality of the situation, Scout, unconscious of the change, began to rub in the colour on his face, which soon gave it the appearance of a very dark bronze, and increased, if possible, the laughter of the lady, who at length, on Old Snarl's entering, was able to exclaim, not in the words of the author, but in her own, Ha, ha, ha ha, ha, ha! for heaven's sake give me a chair-ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! my husband is very ill, ha, ha, ha! he is dying-ha, La, ha! and I am still worsee-Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha !—that horrid dredging-box will be the death of me-ha, ha, ha! who did it-who did it? Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!"

On

With this she fell into a chair, and continued to laugh so violently as to render her continuing the scene impossible, therefore the prompter, finding how matters were, gave a shrill whistle, and, "hey presto," a scene descended and shut her from the audience. coming to herself, she declared she was "rightly served," and, though she had painfully enjoyed herself beyond all expectation, she would never again make her appearance in the Village Lawyer."

Mrs. Powell (Mrs. Renaud) left Covent Garden in 1816, in consequence of being forfeited for refusing a part cast her in a new piece, which she considered quite out of her line, and degrading. After "starring" some time in the provinces, she found it somewhat difficult to obtain engagements; and being, as she said, "very comfortable in the Harrogate theatre," she arranged to continue with the company for some time longer, for the small consideration of one pound for every night of her performance, and half the receipts of a benefit in each of the towns in which she might act with us.

We only played three nights in each week, and as she could not be called upon for each of those, her remuneration was not very large, especially as at times she did not act for several successive nights, her characters being confined to tragedy; however, she remained with us several months, and left us "universally regretted," and, as she said, greatly regretting her departure. I have witnessed many acts of charity and kindness in members of the theatrical profession, and several of the lady here alluded to: she was always ready to contribute to the needy; one of her acts of charity in particular I remember. We were about to remove from one town to another at a considerable distance; our prompter was a very old man, nearly seventy years of age, with a wife but a few years younger, who acted trifling characters. Their joint salary amounted to the enormous sum of twenty-one (not pounds) shillings per week, on which they contrived to live, and "pay their way," as they said. He had been prompter in this company upwards of five-and-twenty years,