elds, dwelling especially upon the
skill of an actor who personated an old man. "He who acted the old man
executed it to the nicest perfection which one could expect in no
player who had not forty years' experience.... I made no manner of
doubt of his being an old comedian, who, instructed by long
experience, and, at the same time, assisted by the weight of years,
had performed it so naturally. But how great was my surprise when I
learned that he was a young man of about twenty-six! I could not
believe it; but I owned that it might be possible had he only used a
trembling and broken voice, and had only an extreme weakness possessed
his body, because I conceived it possible for a young actor, by the
help of art, to imitate that debility of nature to such a pitch of
exactness; but the wrinkles of his face, his sunken eyes, and his
loose and yellow cheeks, the most certain marks of a great old age,
were incontestable proofs against what they said to me.
Notwithstanding all this I was forced to submit to truth, because I
know for certain that the actor, to fit himself for the part of the
old man, spent an hour in dressing himself, and that, with the
assistance of several pencils, he disguised his face so nicely and
painted so artificially a part of his eyebrows and eyelids, that, at
the distance of six paces, it was impossible not to be deceived. I was
desirous to be a witness of this myself, but pride hindered me; so,
knowing I must be ashamed, I was satisfied with a confirmation of it
from other actors. Mademoiselle Salle, among others, who then shone
upon that stage, confessed to me that the first time she saw him
perform she durst not go into a passage where he was, fearing lest she
should throw him down should she happen to touch him in passing by."
Assuredly a more successful make-up than this could not be desired. In
conclusion, Signor Riccoboni flatters himself that his reference to
this matter may not be thought altogether useless; "it may let us know
to what an exactness the English comedians carry the imitation of
nature, and may serve for a proof of all that I have advanced of the
actors of the English theatre."

Dogget, the old comedian of Queen Anne's time--to whom we owe an
annual boat-race upon the Thames for a "coat and badge," and,
inferentially, the popular burletta of "The Waterman"--was remarkably
skilful, according to Colley Cibber, "in dressing a character to the
greatest exactness ... the least arti