HOW THE LAST ACT OF HAMLET WAS WRITTEN. 67

clutched his MS., and nibbled his pen in silence. The players, in
groups of three and four, discoursed in subdued but troubled tones.
Care was depicted on every countenance.

“Beshrew me!” said a shabby, middle-aged individual, whose
sepulchral voice and overhanging brow at once proclaimed him the
“heavy man” of the establishment; “but if the tragedy come not
out, it is in truth all Dickon with the management; seeing that there
is naught else can be put up, at so short a notice. And where be our
salaries then ?”

“Where, indeed ?” sighed the person he addressed —Wynkyn, the
popular clown, or low comedian of the period—“ seeing that since
the drama’s decline the provinces are as very naught.”

The drama was declining then. It always has been, and always
will be.

“ Naught!” said the heavy man, bitterly —“ Worse than naught.
You’d scarce credit it, but an I played not Ferrer and Porrex, down
at Oxford last week, to an audience of one and tenpence, may I
never quaff sack more !”

Master Wynkyn coughed slightly, and trod on the toe of the first
old man, who formed one of the group, and who coughed also.

The insult was not lost upon the tragedian, who was prompt to
retaliate.

“ But, in truth, it must needs be all up with legitimate acting, in

a time when managers insist that particular actors shall be written
F2