f. It is a courtship all dagger-pierced and reeking with innocent
blood--monstrous and revolting! One would like to know who the woman was
whose incredible vanity and levity so worked upon the master's mind that
he produced this tragic caricature. Who was the woman who inspired great
Shakespeare's one unnatural scene? Come, antiquaries, _cherchez la
femme_!

I suffered most when I had to play some lady of quality, for what, in
heaven's name, had I to dress a lady in? Five dollars a week to live on,
to dress myself on, and to provide stage wardrobe! Many a bitter tear I
shed. And then there was the surprise of the stars, when after playing an
important part one night, they suddenly recognized me the next standing
in the crowd of peasants or seated at _Macbeth's_ disheartening banquet.

Their comments used to be very caustic sometimes, and they almost,
without exception, advised me to rebel, to go and demand freedom from the
ballet, or at least salary enough to dress the parts given me to play.
But those long years of childish thraldom had left their mark--I could
not assert myself, an overwhelming shame came upon me, even at the
thought of asking to be advanced. So I went on playing boys and second
old women, singing songs when forced to it, going on for poor leading
parts even, for the leading lady being the manager's wife rarely played
parts with women stars, and then between times dropping back into the
ballet and standing about in crowds or taking part in a village dance.

It was a queer position and no mistake. Many stars had grown to know me,
and often on Monday morning he or she would come over to our group and
shake hands kindly, to my great pleasure. One morning, while we were
rehearsing "Lady Audley's Secret," Mrs. Bowers, whom I greatly admired,
came over to me, and remarked: "You hard-hearted little wretch! I've been
watching you; you are treating that boy shamefully! Don't you know
Murdoch is a gentleman?"

I was surprised, and rather quickly answered: "Well, have I treated him
as if he were not a gentleman?"

She was called just then, but when the act was over she came to me again,
and taking my hand in her right, she began beating it up and down upon
her left: "You are not vexed, are you?" she asked. "Don't be; I only
wonder how you can do it, and you are so young! Why," she sighed, from
her very soul it seemed to me, "Why," she went on, "ever since I was
fourteen years old I have been loving some man