or comedy. Shirley, in
the prologue to his "Cardinal," apologises for calling it only a
"play" in the bill:

Think what you please, we call it but a "play:"
Whether the comic muse, or lady's love,
Romance or direful tragedy it prove,
The bill determines not.

From a later passage in the same prologue Mr. Collier judges that the
titles of tragedies were usually printed, for the sake of distinction,
in red ink:

----and you would be
Persuaded I would have't a comedy
For all the purple in the name.

But this may be a reference to the colour of a cardinal's robes. There
is probably no playbill extant of an earlier date than 1663. About
this time, in the case of a new play, it was usual to state in the
bill that it had been "never acted before."

In the earliest days of the stage, before the invention of printing,
the announcement that theatrical performances were about to be
exhibited was made by sound of trumpet, much after the manner of
modern strollers and showmen at fairs and street-corners. Indeed, long
after playbills had become common, this musical advertisement was
still requisite for the due information of the unlettered patrons of
the stage. In certain towns the musicians were long looked upon as the
indispensable heralds of the actors. Tate Wilkinson, writing in 1790,
records that a custom obtained at Norwich, "and if abolished it has
not been many years," of proclaiming in every street with drum and
trumpet the performances to be presented at the theatre in the
evening. A like practice also prevailed at Grantham. To the
Lincolnshire company of players, however, this musical preface to
their efforts seemed objectionable and derogatory, and they
determined, on one of their visits to the town, to dispense with the
old-established sounds. But the reform resulted in empty benches.
Thereupon the "revered, well-remembered, and beloved Marquis of
Granby" sent for the manager of the troop and thus addressed him: "Mr.
Manager, I like a play; I like a player; and I shall be glad to serve
you. But, my good friend, why are you all so offended at and averse to
the noble sound of a drum? I like it, and all the inhabitants like
it. Put my name on your playbill, provided you drum, but not
otherwise. Try the effect on to-morrow night; if then you are as
thinly attended as you have lately been, shut up your playhouse at
once; but if it succeeds, drum away!" The players withdrew their