He Had A Brother-In-Law, A Relative By Marriage,
Though Not By Blood, Who Was Manager Of A Theatre In A Small Country
Town.
And this same brother, ("a little more than kin, but less than
kind,") looked down upon him, and treated him with contumely, because
forsooth he was but a strolling player.
I tried to console him with the
thoughts of the vast applause he daily received, but it was all in
vain. He declared that it gave him no delight, and that he should never
be a happy man until the name of Flimsey rivalled the name of Crimp.
How little do those before the scenes know of what passes behind; how
little can they judge, from the countenances of actors, of what is
passing in their hearts. I have known two lovers quarrel like cats
behind the scenes, who were, the moment after, ready to fly into each
other's embraces. And I have dreaded, when our Belvidera was to take
her farewell kiss of her Jaffier, lest she should bite a piece out of
his cheek. Our tragedian was a rough joker off the stage; our prime
clown the most peevish mortal living. The latter used to go about
snapping and snarling, with a broad laugh painted on his countenance;
and I can assure you that, whatever may be said of the gravity of a
monkey, or the melancholy of a gibed cat, there is no more melancholy
creature in existence than a mountebank off duty.
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