HOW THE LAST ACT OF HAMLET WAS WRITTEN. 69

The tragedian muttered that he named no names, but that who the
cap fitted might e’en go don it; when the angry debate was suddenly
interrupted.

A young gentleman, clad in the height of the fashion (though the
glaring yellow satin lining of his cloak, and somewhat “loud” em-
broidery of his trunks, would scarcely have found favour in the eyes
of the grave and decorous leaders of ton in those days), entered the
theatre with the easy confidence of an habitué of the covilisses.

The new-comer was Robert, Earl of Essex, a patron of the legiti-
mate drama, and a capital man to know on benefit nights!

“How now, Mad Wags!” exclaimed his lordship, slapping Dag-
gerwood on the back, and poking the low comedian playfully in the
ribs, with his sheathed Toledo; “ goes the work bravely? Come we
out with strength on the opening night? Look we for store of broad
gold pieces in the house, or will there be need of much paper ?”

A general groan, supported by the whole strength of the com-
pany (assisted by a talented and numerous corps of supernumeraries),
was the only reply.

“Eh ?” said the Earl, with some surprise. “ What’s the matter ?”

Her Majesty’s servants groaned again.

“ Speak some of you. What’s it all about? As Mad Will hath
it, ‘Whence got ye that goose look ?”

His lordship had hit upon the right key for opening the locked

jaws of the present company.