ity he might have exhibited for
a pack of mountebanks, but in either case he was determined, with that
sombre seriousness so typical of him, to do his duty in the premises.
So he listened patiently to their complaints, and the result of it all
was that by the advice of the Earl of Dorset, the Lord Chamberlain, a
royal licence, allowing the revolters to act in a separate theatre,
was duly issued. A subscription for the erection of the new house was
immediately opened, people of quality paid in anywhere from twenty to
forty guineas a piece, and the whole affair assumed permanent shape.
Poor, tired, pre-occupied William had done what was expected of him,
lifting his eyes for the nonce from the real world, as represented by
the map of Europe, to gaze upon his subjects of the mimic boards.

[Footnote A: Mrs. Verbruggen and Joseph Williams seceded from the new
company almost at once.]

"My having been a witness of this unnecessary rupture," writes Cibber,
"was of great use to me when, many years after, I came to be a menager
myself. I laid it down as a settled maxim, that no company could
flourish while the chief actors and the undertakers were at variance.
I therefore made it a point while it was possible upon tolerable
terms, to keep the valuable actors in humour with their station; and
tho' I was as jealous of their encroachments as any of my co-partners
could be, I always guarded against the least warmth in any
expostulations with them; not but at the same time they might see I
was perhaps more determin'd in the question than those that gave a
loose to their resentment, and when they were cool were as apt to
recede."

Colley was shrewd enough in dealing with players, and, as any one who
has ever had aught to do with them knows, the majority of Thespians
must be treated with the greatest tact. They are sensitive and
high-strung, yet often as unreasonable as children, and the man who
can rule over them with ease should be snapped up by an appreciative
government to conduct its most diplomatic of missions. With the
theatrical stars of his own day Cibber seems to have been firm but
prudent. "I do not remember," he tells us, "that ever I made a promise
to any that I did not keep, and, therefore, was cautious how I made
them." A fine sentiment, dear sir, eminently fit for a copy book, but
we can well believe that your promises never erred on the side of
extravagance.

It is a fascinating subject, this study of old-time sta