s of the Museum Theatre, and occupant of
the great proscenium-box, was a gentleman whose name has been mentioned
in a previous history; that refined patron of the arts, and enlightened
lover of music and the drama, the Most Noble the Marquis of Steyne. His
lordship's avocations as a statesman prevented him from attending the
playhouse very often, or coming very early. But he occasionally appeared
at the theatre in time for the ballet, and was always received with the
greatest respect by the Manager, from whom he sometimes condescended
to receive a visit in his box. It communicated with the stage, and when
anything occurred there which particularly pleased him, when a new face
made its appearance among the coryphees, or a fair dancer executed a
pas with especial grace or agility, Mr. Wenham, Mr. Wagg, or some other
aide-de-camp of the noble Marquis, would be commissioned to go behind
the scenes, and express the great man's approbation, or make the
inquiries which were prompted by his lordship's curiosity, or his
interest in the dramatic art. He could not be seen by the audience, for
Lord Steyne sate modestly behind a curtain, and looked only towards the
stage--but you could know he was in the house, by the glances which all
the corps-de-ballet, and all the principal dancers, cast towards his
box. I have seen many scores of pairs of eyes (as in the Palm Dance in
the ballet of Cook at Otaheite, where no less than a hundred-and-twenty
lovely female savages in palm leaves and feather aprons, were made to
dance round Floridor as Captain Cook) ogling that box as they performed
before it, and have often wondered to remark the presence of mind of
Mademoiselle Sauterelle, or Mademoiselle de Bondi (known as la petite
Caoutchoue), who, when actually up in the air quivering like so many
shuttlecocks, always kept their lovely eyes winking at that box in which
the great Steyne sate. Now and then you would hear a harsh voice from
behind the curtain cry, "Brava, Brava," or a pair of white gloves wave
from it, and begin to applaud. Bondi, or Sauterelle, when they came down
to earth, curtsied and smiled, especially to those hands, before they
walked up the stage again, panting and happy.

One night this great Prince surrounded by a few choice friends was in
his box at the Museum, and they were making such a noise and laughter
that the pit was scandalised, and many indignant voices were bawling out
silence so loudly, that Wagg wondered the