But
what shall I do?" and he looked imploringly round upon the broad,
grinning countenances of the other performers.
"Do?" ejaculated Mr. Peaess; "you can do nothing now--the curtain has
been up these ten minutes; Horatio and Marcellus are coming off, and you
must go on."
At this moment the ghost of Hamlet's father entered the room, but before
he had time to look upon his son, the call-boy's summons was heard for
the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, &c., to be ready, and forth
sallied poor Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs, to prove, if he
could, to the audience, that his rotundity was perfectly Shakspearian.
The awful flourish of drum and trumpet was sounded;--their majesties of
Denmark, attended by their train of courtiers, walked on. There is a
pause! All eyes are bent in eager gaze to catch the first glimpse of the
new Hamlet--all hands are ready to applaud. He appears--boxes, pit, and
gallery, join in the generous welcome of the unknown candidate. He
revives--hastens to the foot-lights--bows--another round of
applause--bows again--and again--and then falls back, to let the business
of the scene proceed. He looks round, meanwhile, with the swelling
consciousness that he is that moment "the observed of all observers," and
tries to rally his agitated spirits; but just as he is beginning to do
so, his wandering eye rests upon the ill-omened face of M'Crab, seated in
the front-row of the stage-box, who is gazing at him with a grotesque
smile, which awakens an overwhelming recollection of his own prediction,
that he "would be horribly laughed at, if he did make Hamlet a fat little
fellow," as well as a bewildering reminiscence of the manager's, that,
"by ----, the audience would not stand it.
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