Mr. Jones having spent three hours in reading and kissing the
aforesaid letter,[20] and being, at last, in a state of good spirits,
from the last-mentioned considerations, he agreed to carry an
appointment, which he had before made, into execution. This was, to
attend Mrs. Miller, and her younger daughter, into the gallery at the
playhouse, and to admit Mr. Partridge as one of the company. For as
Jones had really that taste for humor which many affect, he expected
to enjoy much entertainment in the criticisms of Partridge, from whom
he expected the simple dictates of nature, unimproved, indeed, but
likewise unadulterated by art.
In the first row then of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, Mrs. Miller,
her youngest daughter, and Partridge take their places. Partridge
immediately declared it was the finest place he had ever been in. When
the first music was played, he said, "it was a wonder how so many
fiddlers could play at one time, without putting one another out."
While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, he cried out to Mrs.
Miller, "Look, look, madam, the very picture of the man in the end of
the common prayer book before the gunpowder-treason service." Nor
could he help observing with a sigh, when all the candles were
lighted, "That here were candles enough burned in one night to keep an
honest poor family for a whole twelvemonth."
As soon as the play, which was "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," began,
Partridge was all attention, nor did he break silence till the
entrance of the ghost; upon which he asked Jones, "What man that was
in the strange dress; something," said he, "like what I have seen in
the picture. Sure it is not armor, is it?" Jones answered, "That is
the ghost." To which Partridge replied with a smile, "Persuade me to
that, sir, if you can. Tho I can't say I ever actually saw a ghost in
my life, yet I am certain I should know one, if I saw him, better than
that comes to. No, no, sir; ghosts don't appear in such dresses as
that, neither." In this mistake, which caused much laughter in the
neighborhood of Partridge, he was suffered to continue, till the scene
between the ghost and Hamlet, when Partridge gave that credit to Mr.
Garrick, which he had denied to Jones, and fell into so violent a
trembling that his knees knocked against each other. Jones asked him
what was the matter, and whether he was afraid of the warrior upon the
stage? "O la! sir," said he, "I perceive now it is what you told me. I
am not afraid of anything; for I know it is but a play. And if it was
really a ghost, it could do one no harm at such a distance, and in so
much company; and yet if I was frightened, I am not the only person."
"Why, who," cries Jones, "dost thou take to be such a coward here
besides thyself?" "Nay, you may call me a coward if you will; but if
that little man there upon the stage is not frightened, I never saw
any man frightened in my life. Ay, ay: go along with you! Ay, to be
sure! Who's fool then? Will you? lud have mercy upon such
foolhardiness? Whatever happens, it is good enough for you. Follow
you? I'd follow the devil as soon. Nay, perhaps it is the devil--for
they say he can put on what likeness he pleases. Oh! here he is again.
No farther! No, you have gone far enough already; farther than I'd
have gone for all the king's dominions." Jones offered to speak, but
Partridge cried, "Hush! hush! dear sir, don't you hear him?" And
during the whole speech of the ghost, he sat with his eyes fixt partly
on the ghost and partly on Hamlet, and with his mouth open; the same
passions which succeeded each other in Hamlet, succeeding likewise in
him.
When the scene was over Jones said, "Why, Mr. Partridge, you exceed my
expectations. You enjoy the play more than I conceived possible."
"Nay, sir," answered Partridge, "if you are not afraid of the devil, I
can't help it; but to be sure, it is natural to be surprized at such
things, tho I know there is nothing in them: not that it was the ghost
that surprized me, neither; for I should have known that to have been
only a man in a strange dress; but when I saw the little man so
frightened himself, it was that which took hold of me." "And dost thou
imagine, then, Partridge," cries Jones, "that he was really
frightened?" "Nay, sir," said Partridge, "did not you yourself
observe afterward, when he found it was his own father's spirit and
how he was murdered in the garden, how his fear forsook him by
degrees, and he was struck dumb with sorrow, as it were, just as I
should have been, had it been my own case? But hush! O la! what noise
is that! There he is again. Well, to be certain, tho I know there is
nothing at all in it, I am glad I am not down yonder, where those men
are." Then turning his eyes again upon Hamlet, "Ay, you may draw your
sword; what signifies a sword against the power of the devil?"
During the second act Partridge made very few remarks. He greatly
admired the fineness of the dresses; nor could he help observing upon
the king's countenance. "Well," said he, "how people may be deceived
by faces? _Nulla fides fronti_ is, I find, a true saying. Who would
think, by looking in the king's face, that he had ever committed a
murder?" He then inquired after the ghost; but Jones, who intended he
should be surprized, gave him no other satisfaction than, "that he
might possibly see him again soon, and in a flash of fire."
Partridge sat in fearful expectation of this; and now, when the ghost
made his next appearance, Partridge cried out, "There sir, now; what
say you now? is he frightened now or no? As much frightened as you
think me, and, to be sure, nobody can help some fears. I would not be
in so bad a condition as what's his name, Squire Hamlet, is there, for
all the world. Bless me! what's become of the spirit? As I am a living
soul, I thought I saw him sink into the earth." "Indeed, you saw
right," answered Jones. "Well, well," cries Partridge, "I know it is
only a play; and besides, if there was anything in all this, Madam
Miller would not laugh so; for as to you, sir, you would not be
afraid, I believe, if the devil was here in person. There, there--ay,
no wonder you are in such a passion; shake the vile wicked wretch to
pieces. If she was my own mother, I would serve her so. To be sure all
duty to a mother is forfeited by such wicked doings.--Ay, go about
your business; I hate the sight of you."
Our critic was now pretty silent till the play which Hamlet introduces
before the king. This he did not at first understand, till Jones
explained it to him; but he no sooner entered into the spirit of it,
than he began to bless himself that he had never committed murder.
Then turning to Mrs. Miller, he asked her, "If she did not imagine the
king looked as if he was touched; tho he is," said he, "a good actor,
and doth all he can to hide it. Well, I would not have so much to
answer for, as that wicked man there hath, to sit upon a much higher
chair than he sits upon. No wonder he run away; for your sake I'll
never trust an innocent face again."
The grave-digging scene next engaged the attention of Partridge, who
exprest much surprize at the number of skulls thrown upon the stage.
To which Jones answered, "That it was one of the most famous
burial-places about town." "No wonder then," cries Partridge, "that
the place is haunted. But I never saw in my life a worse grave-digger.
I had a sexton, when I was clerk, that should have dug three graves
while he is digging one. The fellow handles a spade as if it was the
first time he had ever had one in his hand. Ay, ay, you may sing. You
had rather sing than work, I believe." Upon Hamlet's taking up the
skull, he cried out, "Well! it is strange to see how fearless some men
are: I never could bring myself to touch anything belonging to a dead
man, on any account. He seemed frightened enough too at the ghost, I
thought. _Nemo omnibus horis sapit._"
Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, at the end of
which Jones asked him, "Which of the players he had liked best?" To
this he answered, with some appearance of indignation at the question,
"The king, without doubt." "Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. Miller,
"you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they are all
agreed that Hamlet is acted by the best player who ever was on the
stage." "He the best player!" cries Partridge, with a contemptuous
sneer, "why, I could act as well as he himself. I am sure, if I had
seen a ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner, and done
just as he did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it,
between him and his mother, where you told me he acted so fine, why,
Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, that had such a mother,
would have done exactly the same. I know you are only joking with me;
but indeed, madam, tho I was never to a play in London, yet I have
seen acting before in the country; and the king for my money; he
speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the other.
Anybody may see he is an actor."