I knew that the theatre (where I had never been) was the place where
Mother and Father enjoyed themselves most. They often talked of it, and
were most delighted if the actors had "acted well," words which
conveyed no meaning to me.
Children were not at that time debarred from the Royal Theatre, and I
had no more ardent wish than to get inside. I was still a very small
child when one day they took me with them in the carriage in which
Father and Mother and Aunt were driving to the theatre. I had my seat
with the others in the pit, and sat speechless with admiration when the
curtain went up. The play was called _Adventures on a Walking Tour_. I
could not understand anything. Men came on the stage and talked
together. One crept forward under a bush and sang. I could not grasp
the meaning of it, and when I asked I was only told to be quiet. But my
emotion was so great that I began to feel ill, and had to be carried
out. Out in the square I was sick and had to be taken home.
Unfortunately for me, that was precisely what happened the second time,
when, in response to my importunity, another try was made. My
excitement, my delight, my attention to the unintelligible were too
overwhelming. I nearly fainted, and at the close of the first act had
to leave the theatre. After that, it was a very long time before I was
regarded as old enough to stand the excitement.
Once, though, I was allowed to go to see a comedy. Mr. Voltelen gave me
a ticket for some students' theatricals at the Court Theatre, in which
he himself was going to appear. The piece was called _A Spendthrift_,
and I saw it without suffering for it. There was a young, flighty man
in it who used to throw gold coins out of the window, and there was an
ugly old hag, and a young, beautiful girl as well. I sat and kept a
sharp lookout for when my master should come on, but I was
disappointed; there was no Mr. Voltelen to be seen.
Next day, when I thanked him for the entertainment, I added: "But you
made game of me. You were not in it at all." "What? I was not in it?
Did you not see the old hag? That was I. Didn't you see the girl? That
was I." It was incomprehensible to me that anyone could disguise
himself so. Mr. Voltelen must most certainly have "acted well." But
years afterwards, I could still not understand how one judged of this.
Since plays affected me exactly like real life, I was, of course, not
in a position to single out the share the actors took.