overty keeps them at work, but, be that as it may, the public
gives a sigh of relief when the few remaining sparks of genius are at
last snuffed out. When one of them is taken from us, and we read of
the death in the morning paper, we murmur, "Poor old Jones! Well, it's
certainly time he shuffled off." Then we drink our coffee placidly,
turn to some other news, and never think of him again. Many a
once-beloved actor gets this cruel epitaph.

There was nothing superannuated about Bracegirdle when she made her
exit, for the actress still displayed that comeliness which had, until
recently, held the attention of London. "She was of a lovely height,"
says Tony Aston, "with dark brown hair and eyebrows, black, sparkling
eyes, and a fresh, blushy complexion; and, whenever she exerted
herself, had an involuntary flushing in her breast, neck, and face,
having continually a cheerful aspect, and a fine set of even white
teeth; never making an exit, but that she left the audience in
an imitation of her pleasant countenance." When Aston wrote Mrs.
Bracegirdle was still living. "She has been off the stage these 26
years or more, but was alive July 20, 1747, for I saw her in the
Strand, London, then--with the remains of charming Bracegirdle." Poor
old Diana! Time brought her at least one revenge; she had outlived
Nance Oldfield these many years.[A]

[Footnote A: Bracegirdle died in September 1748.]

"Bracey," as Cibber loved to call her, had just left the boards when
George Farquhar's lively comedy, "The Beaux' Stratagem," was produced
at the Haymarket. Perhaps she saw the performance from the audience
side of the house, and was generous enough to admire the sparkle of
Oldfield as Mrs. Sullen; and perhaps, as she was a very charitable
body, Mistress Bracegirdle went to pay a last visit to the brilliant
author of the play. For poor, worn-out Farquhar was dying, nor could
the laughter with which the theatre re-echoed bring much merriment
into that poverty-stricken home which he was so soon to leave for a
world where there would be neither guineas nor debts.

The ill man was game to the last, and his sense of humour never
deserted him. When Oldfield was rehearsing Mrs. Sullen (a woman who
separates from one husband only to have another, Archer, in prospect)
she told Wilks that "she thought the author had dealt too freely with
Mrs. Sullen, in giving her to Archer, without such a proper divorce
as would be a security to her honor." Wi