72 HOW THE LAST ACT OF HAMLET WAS WRITTEN.

 

CHAPTER II.

MasTER Burbage, the manager, was pacing up and down his room
in a frightful state of agitation. Heaps of applications for free
admissions, and places on the stage, lay unopened on the table. A
substantial luncheon, sent in from the neighbouring hostelry, was
untouched. There was a quart flagon on the same tray —but that
was empty.

A tall bulky individual, with a red face, and clutching a manuscript
almost as bulky as himself, had been talking to him incessantly for
half an hour. But he might as well have talked to the wall—the
manager’s thoughts were far away. Master Ben J onson, however,
was not a man to get easily tired of talking —especially when the
subject of discourse was himself—as was the case on this, and indeed

most occasions, when Master Ben opened his mouth.