"Andromaque," and who enjoyed the zealous friendship of
Addison and Steele. To the tragedy of "The Distressed Mother," as it
was called, which can hardly have been seen in the theatre since the
late Mr. Macready, as Orestes, made his first bow to a London audience
in 1816, an epilogue had been added which had the good fortune to be
accounted the most admirable production of its class. Steele, under
the signature of "Physibulus," wrote to describe his visit to Drury
Lane, in company with his friend Sir Roger, to witness the new
performance. "You must know, sir, that it is always my custom, when I
have been well entertained at a new tragedy, to make my retreat before
the facetious epilogue enters; not but that these pieces are often
very well written, but, having paid down my half-crown, and made a
fair purchase of as much of the pleasing melancholy as the poet's art
can afford me, or my own nature admit of, I am willing to carry some
of it home with me, and cannot endure to be at once tricked out of
all, though by the wittiest dexterity in the world." He describes Sir
Roger as entering with equal pleasure into both parts, and as much
satisfied with Mrs. Oldfield's gaiety as he had been before with
Andromache's greatness; and continues: "Whether this were no more than
an effect of the knight's peculiar humanity, pleased to find that, at
last, after all the tragical doings, everything was safe and well, I
do not know; but, for my own part, I must confess I was so
dissatisfied, that I was sorry the poet had saved Andromache, and
could heartily have wished that he had left her stone dead upon the
stage. I found my soul, during the action, gradually worked up to the
highest pitch, and felt the exalted passion which all generous minds
conceive at the sight of virtue in distress.... But the ludicrous
epilogue in the close extinguished all my ardour, and made me look
upon all such achievements as downright silly and romantic." To this
letter a reply, signed "Philomedes," appeared in "The Spectator" a few
days later, expressing, in the first place, amazement at the attack
upon the epilogue, and calling attention to its extraordinary success.
"The audience would not permit Mrs. Oldfield to go off the stage the
first night till she had repeated it twice; the second night, the
noise of the _ancoras_ was as loud as before, and she was obliged
again to speak it twice; the third night it was still called for a
second time, and, in shor