to know who she was; this, too, soon betrayed itself. Then
it became more than ever Sir Charles's business to know whether Mrs.
Woffington returned the sentiment; and here his penetration was at
fault, for the moment; he determined, however, to discover.

Mr. Vane then received his friend, all unsuspicious how that friend
had been skinning him with his eyes for some time past. After the usual
compliments had passed between two gentlemen who had been hand and glove
for a month and forgotten each other's existence for two years, Sir
Charles, still keeping in view his design, said:

"Let us go upon the stage." The fourth act had just concluded.

"Go upon the stage!" said Mr. Vane; "what, where she--I mean among the
actors?"

"Yes; come into the green-room. There are one or two people of
reputation there; I will introduce you to them, if you please."

"Go upon the stage!" why, if it had been proposed to him to go to heaven
he would not have been more astonished. He was too astonished at first
to realize the full beauty of the arrangement, by means of which he
might be within a yard of Mrs. Woffington, might feel her dress rustle
past him, might speak to her, might drink her voice fresh from her lips
almost before it mingled with meaner air. Silence gives consent, and Mr.
Vane, though he thought a great deal, said nothing; so Pomander rose,
and they left the boxes together. He led the way to the stage door,
which was opened obsequiously to him; they then passed through a dismal
passage, and suddenly emerged upon that scene of enchantment, the
stage--a dirty platform encumbered on all sides with piles of scenery in
flats. They threaded their way through rusty velvet actors and fustian
carpenters, and entered the green-room. At the door of this magic
chamber Vane trembled and half wished he could retire. They entered; his
apprehension gave way to disappointment, she was not there. Collecting
himself, he was presently introduced to a smart, jaunty, and, to do
him justice, _distingue_ old beau. This was Colley Cibber, Esq., poet
laureate, and retired actor and dramatist, a gentleman who is entitled
to a word or two.

This Cibber was the only actor since Shakespeare's time who had both
acted and written well. Pope's personal resentment misleads the reader
of English poetry as to Cibber's real place among the wits of the day.

The man's talent was dramatic, not didactic, or epic, or pastoral. Pope
was not so deep in the dr