* * * * *
(_Concluded from, page 254_.)
"_N'importe!_" exclaimed Stubbs, gaily; "there are more admirers, in this
world, of the ridiculous than of the true, that let me tell you. But I
must to my studies, for the night approaches. Next Monday--and this is
Thursday--and I am by no means _au fait_ yet in my part. So good
morning--let me see you soon again--and meanwhile adieu! adieu! remember
me!"
Mr. M'Crab departed; and Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs prepared
to go through the soliloquy of "To be--or not to be," before a mirror
which reflected the whole of his person.
Monday came, and oh! with what a flutter of delight Mr. Stubbs cast his
eyes upon that part of the paper, where the play for the evening was
announced, and where he read, "_This evening will be acted the tragedy of
Hamlet: the part of Hamlet by a gentleman, his first appearance on any
stage._"
* * * * *
His carriage was at the door--and he told the coachman to drive down ----
street, that he might see in passing along, whether the crowd at the pit
and gallery doors, would obstruct his progress. It was not quite so large
as to stretch across the carriage road; but he was sure there were some
hundreds, though so early, and he thought they must have heard who the
"gentleman" was, that was then rolling by. He would not be positive, too;
but he could almost swear he heard an huzza, as he passed along. There
were above a dozen persons collected round the stage door; and he plainly
perceived that _they_ drew back with respectful admiration, as the new
Hamlet stepped out of his carriage.
He hastened to his dressing-room, where he found his friend, the manager,
Mr. Peaess, who shook him by the hand, as he informed him that they had
an excellent box-book. Stubbs smiled graciously; and the manager left him
with his dresser, to attire himself in his "customary suit of solemn
black." Mr. Stubbs had kept his intention of stuffing the character a
profound secret, fearful lest any technical objections should be made by
Mr. Peaess, and desirous also of making the first impression in the
green-room. When he entered it, therefore, in the likeness of a chubby
undertaker, ready for a funeral, rather than in that of the "unmatched
form and feature of blown youth"--in short, the very type and image of
poor Tokely in _Peter Pastoral_,--his eyes and ears were on the alert to
catch the look of surprise, and buzz of admiration, which he very
naturally anticipated. He was a little daunted by a suppressed titter
which ran round the room; but he was utterly confounded when his best and
dearest friend, Mr. Peaess himself, coming up to him exclaimed,--"Why,
zounds! Mr. Stubbs, what have you been doing? By ----, the audience will
never stand this."
"Stand what?" replied Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs.
"What!" echoed the manager; "why this pot-belly, and those cherub
cheeks."
"Pooh! pooh!" replied Stubbs, "it's Shakspeare's, and I can prove it."
"You may pooh! pooh! as much as you like, Mr. Stubbs," rejoined the
manager; "but, by ----, you've made a mere apple-dumpling of yourself."
"Do you think so," exclaimed Stubbs, glancing in one of the
mirrors--"Well; I do assure you it is Shakspeare, and I'll prove it. But
what shall I do?" and he looked imploringly round upon the broad,
grinning countenances of the other performers.
"Do?" ejaculated Mr. Peaess; "you can do nothing now--the curtain has
been up these ten minutes; Horatio and Marcellus are coming off, and you
must go on."
At this moment the ghost of Hamlet's father entered the room, but before
he had time to look upon his son, the call-boy's summons was heard for
the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, &c., to be ready, and forth
sallied poor Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs, to prove, if he
could, to the audience, that his rotundity was perfectly Shakspearian.
The awful flourish of drum and trumpet was sounded;--their majesties of
Denmark, attended by their train of courtiers, walked on. There is a
pause! All eyes are bent in eager gaze to catch the first glimpse of the
new Hamlet--all hands are ready to applaud. He appears--boxes, pit, and
gallery, join in the generous welcome of the unknown candidate. He
revives--hastens to the foot-lights--bows--another round of
applause--bows again--and again--and then falls back, to let the business
of the scene proceed. He looks round, meanwhile, with the swelling
consciousness that he is that moment "the observed of all observers," and
tries to rally his agitated spirits; but just as he is beginning to do
so, his wandering eye rests upon the ill-omened face of M'Crab, seated in
the front-row of the stage-box, who is gazing at him with a grotesque
smile, which awakens an overwhelming recollection of his own prediction,
that he "would be horribly laughed at, if he did make Hamlet a fat little
fellow," as well as a bewildering reminiscence of the manager's, that,
"by ----, the audience would not stand it."
It was soon evident they would not, or rather that they could not stand
it. But it was not alone his new reading in what regarded the person of
Hamlet, that excited astonishment. Mr. Stubbs had so many other new
readings, that before he got to the end of his first speech, beginning
with, "Seems, madam! nay, it is," they were satisfied of what was to
follow. When, however, Mr. Stubbs stood alone upon the stage, in the full
perfection of his figure, and concentrated upon himself the undivided
attention of the house--when he gathered up his face into an
indescribable aspect of woe--but, above all, when, placing his two hands
upon his little round belly, he exclaimed, while looking sorrowfully at
it,
"Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
(Pat, went the right hand,)
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,"
(Pat, went the left hand,)
the effect was irresistible. One roar of laughter shook the theatre, from
the back row of the shilling gallery to the first row of the pit, mingled
with cries of _bravo! bravo! go on, my little fellow--you shall have fair
play--silence--bravo! silence!_--Stubbs, meanwhile, looked as if he were
really wondering what they were all laughing at; and when at length
silence was partially restored, he continued his soliloquy. His delivery
of the lines,
"Fye on't oh fye! 'tis an unweeded garden
That grown to seed: things rank and gross in nature," &c.
was one of his new readings--for holding up his finger, and looking
towards the audience with a severe expression of countenance, it appeared
as though he were chiding their ill manners in laughing at him, when he
said, "Fye on't--oh, fye!"
He was allowed to proceed, however, with such interruptions only as his
own original conceptions of the part provoked from time to time; or when
any thing he had to say was obviously susceptible of an application to
himself. Thus, for example, in the scene with Horatio and Marcellus,
after his interview with the ghost:--
_"Ham_. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
_Hor_. What is it, my lord? We will.
_Ham. Never make known what you have seen to-night."_
"Let him, if he likes," exclaimed a voice from the pit--"he'll never see
such a sight again."--Then, in his instructions to the players, his
delivery of them was accompanied by something like the following running
commentary:
"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, (_that is
impossible!_) trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of
our players do, (_laughter_,) I had as lief the town-crier spoke my
lines. * * * Oh, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious,
periwig-pated fellow (_like yourself_) tear a passion to tatters, &c.--I
would have such a fellow whipped (_give it him, he deserves it_) for
o'erdoing Termagant. * * * Oh, there be players that I have seen play,
(_no, we see him,_) and heard others praise, and that highly, (_oh! oh!
oh!_) not to speak it profanely, that, having neither the accent of
Christians, (_ha! ha! ha!_) nor the gait of Christian, Pagan, nor man,
have so strutted (_bravo! little 'un!_) and bellowed, (_hit him again!_)
that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, (_who made
you?_) and not made them well, (_no, you are a bad fit_,) they imitated
humanity so abominably." (_Roars of laughter_.)
It was thus Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs enacted Hamlet; and it
was not till the end of the fourth act that he suffered a single
observation to escape him, which indicated he thought any thing was
amiss. Then, indeed, while sitting in the green-room, and as if the idea
had just struck him, he said to Mr. Peaess, "Do you know, I begin to
think I have some enemies in the house, for when, in the scene with
Ophelia, I said, 'What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth
and heaven?' somebody called out, loud enough for me to hear him, 'Ay!
what, indeed?' It's very odd. Did you notice it, ma'am?" he continued
addressing the lady who performed Ophelia. "I can't say I did," replied
the lady, biting her lips most unmercifully, to preserve her gravity of
countenance.
This was the only remark made by the inimitable Mr. Stubbs during the
whole evening, and he went through the fifth act with unabated
self-confidence. His dying scene was honoured with thunders of applause,
and loud cries of _encore_. Stubbs raised his head, and looking at
Horatio, who was bending over him, inquired, "Do you think they mean it?"
"Lie still, for God's sake!" exclaimed Horatio, and the curtain slowly
descended amid deafening roars of laughter, and shouts of hurrah! hurrah!
The next morning, at breakfast, Stubbs found all the daily papers on his
table, pursuant to his directions. He took up one, and read, in large
letters--"THEATRE. FIRST AND LAST APPEARANCE OF MR. HENRY AUGUSTUS
CONSTANTINE STUBBS IN HAMLET."
He read no more. The paper dropped from his hands; and Mr. Stubbs
remained nothing but a GENTLEMAN all the rest of his life--_Blackwood's
Mag_.
* * * * *