Weeping at a Play.--It is a prevailing folly to be ashamed to shed a tear
at any part of a tragedy, however affecting. "The reason," says the
Spectator, "is, that persons think it makes them look ridiculous, by
betraying the weakness of their nature. But why may not nature show itself
in tragedy, as well as in comedy or farce? We see persons not ashamed to
laugh loudly at the humour of a Falstaff,--or the tricks of a harlequin;
and why should not the tear be equally allowed to flow for the misfortunes
of a Juliet, or the forlornness of an Ophelia?" Sir Richard Steele records
on this subject a saying of Mr. Wilks the actor, as just as it was polite.
Being told in the green-room that there was a general in the boxes weeping
for Juliana, he observed with a smile, "_And I warrant you, sir, he'll
fight ne'er the worse for that_."


Dramatic Effect.--It is related in the annals of the stage, as a remarkable
instance of the force of imagination, that when Banks's play of the _Earl
of Essex_ was performed, a soldier, who stood sentinel on the stage,
entered so deeply into the distress of the scene, that in the delusion of
his imagination, upon the Countess of Nottingham's denying the receipt of
the ring which Essex had sent by her to the queen to claim a promise of
favour, he exclaimed, "'Tis false! she has it in her bosom;" and
immediately seized the mock countess to make her deliver it up.


Charles Hulet, a comedian of some celebrity in the early part of the last
century, was an apprentice to a bookseller. After reading plays in his
master's shop, he used to repeat the speeches in the kitchen, in the
evening, to the destruction of many a chair, which he substituted in the
room of the real persons in the drama. One night, as he was repeating the