The Laureate was now respectfully addressed by one of his admirers, James
Quin, the Falstaff of the day, and the rival at this time of Garrick in
tragic characters, though the general opinion was, that he could not long
maintain a standing against the younger genius and his rising school of
art.
Off the stage, James Quin was a character; his eccentricities were
three--a humorist, a glutton and an honest man; traits that often caused
astonishment and ridicule, especially the last.
"May we not hope for something from Mr. Cibber's pen after so long a
silence?"
"No," was the considerate reply. "Who have ye got to play it?"
"Plenty," said Quin; "there's your humble servant, there's--"
"Humility at the head of the list," cried she of the epilogue. "Mum! mum!
mum!"
Vane thought this so sharp.
"Garrick, Barry, Macklin, Kitty Clive here at my side, Mrs. Cibber, the
best tragic actress I ever saw; and Woffington, who is as good a comedian
as you ever saw, sir;" and Quin turned as red as fire.
"Keep your temper, Jemmy," said Mrs. Woffington with a severe accent.
"Mum! mum! mum!"
"You misunderstand my question," replied Cibber, calmly; "I know your
_dramatis personae_ but where the devil are your actors?"
Here was a blow.
"The public," said Quin, in some agitation, "would snore if we acted as
they did in your time."
"How do you know that, sir?" was the supercilious rejoinder; _"you never
tried!"_
Mr.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40