y retired therefrom after accidently
wounding a fellow performer[A]. In the course of two or three years
Farquhar will make a desperate attempt to be mercenary by marrying a
girl whom he supposes to be wealthy; he will find out his mistake, and
then, like the thoroughbred that he is, will go on cherishing her as
though she had brought him a ton of rent-rolls. When he is dead and
gone, Chetwood, the veteran prompter of Drury Lane, will tell
us, quaintly enough, how "it was affirm'd, by some of his near
Acquaintance, his unfortunate Marriage shortened his Days; for his
Wife (by whom he had two Daughters), through the Reputation of a great
Fortune, trick'd him into Matrimony. This was chiefly the Fault of her
Love, which was so violent that she was resolved to use all Arts to
gain him. Tho' some Husbands, in such a Case, would have proved _mere
Husbands_, yet he was so much charm'd with her Love and Understanding,
that he liv'd very happy with her. Therefore when I say an unfortunate
Marriage, with other Circumstances, conducted to the shortening of his
Days; I only mean that his Fortune, being too slender to support a
Family, led him into a great many Cares and Inconveniences."

[Footnote A: Farquhar was playing in "The Indian Emperor" being cast
for Guyomar, a character whose pleasant duty it is to kill Vasquez,
the Spanish general. This particular Guyomar forgot to change his
sword for a theatre foil, and in the subsequent encounter gave Vasquez
too realistic a punishment].

No one would have appreciated the unconscious humour of Chetwood's
assertion about "some husbands" more than Farquhar himself. One
trembles to think, by the way what a "mere husband" must have been in
the reigns of William or Anne.

In the meantime we are almost forgetting young Mistress Oldfield, who
is still reading the "Scornful Lady," and putting new life and grace
into lines which nowadays seem a bit academic and musty. The captain
has not forgotten her, however; on the contrary, he is so charmed with
what he hears that he makes some flimsy excuse to get into that room
behind the bar whence the silvery voice proceeds. There he first meets
Nance, surrounded by what audience we know not, and is struck dumb at
the lovely figure standing out in bashful relief, as it were, against
a background of wine bottles and ale tankards. There is an awkward
pause, no doubt, and if the girl of fifteen comes to a sudden stop in
her recital, Farquhar is no les