rt believed him absolutely. To
him Richard was exactly what the play made him.

Although the stage was but a temporary one, built in the hall of Rip
Van Dam, it was large, the seating capacity was great and Hallam and
his wife were among the best actors of their day, destined to a long
career as stars in the colonies, and also afterward, when they ceased
to be colonies. They and an able support soon took the whole audience
captive, and all, fashionable and unfashionable alike, hung with
breathless attention upon the play. Robert forgot absolutely
everything around him, Willet was carried back to days of his youth,
and Master Benjamin Hardy, who at heart was a lover of adventure and
romance, responded to the great speeches the author has written for
his characters. Tayoga did not stir, his face of bronze was unmoved,
but now and then his dark eyes gleamed.

In reality the influence of the tragedy upon Tayoga was as great as it
was upon Robert. The Onondaga had an unusual mind and being sent at an
early age to school at Albany he had learned that the difference
between white man and red was due chiefly to environment. Their hopes
and fears, their rivalries and ambitions were, in truth, about the
same. He had seen in some chief a soul much like that of humpbacked
Richard, but, as he looked and listened, he also had a certain feeling
of superiority. As he saw it, the great League, the Hodenosaunee, was
governed better than England when York and Lancaster were tearing it
to pieces. The fifty old sachems in the vale of Onondaga would decide
more wisely and more justly than the English nobles. Tayoga, in that
moment, was prouder than ever that he was born a member of the Clan of
the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, and doubtless his patron saint,
Tododaho, in his home on the great, shining star, agreed with him.

The first act closed amid great applause, several recalls of smiling
and bowing actors followed, and then, during the wait, came a great
buzz of talk. Robert shook himself and returned to the world.

"What do you like best about it, Lennox?" asked Grosvenor.

"The poetry. The things the people say. Things I've thought often
myself, but which I haven't been able to put in a way that makes them
strike upon you like a lightning flash."

"I think that describes Master Will. In truth, you've given me a
description for my own feelings. Once more I repeat to you, Lennox,
that 'tis a fine audience. I see here much British