court and its
Chamberlain. In George III.'s time King Lear was prohibited, because
it was judged inexpedient that royal insanity should be exhibited upon
the stage. In 1808 a play, called "The Wanderer," adapted from
Kotzebue, was forbidden at Covent Garden, in that it dealt with the
adventures of Prince Charles Edward, the Pretender. Even after the
accession of Queen Victoria, a license was refused to an English
version of Victor Hugo's "Ruy Blas," lest playgoers should perceive in
it allusions to the matrimonial choice her Majesty was then about to
make.

The Licenser's keenness in scenting a political allusion oftentimes,
indeed, entailed upon him much and richly-merited ridicule. The
production, some fifty years ago, of a tragedy called "Alasco"
furnishes a notable instance of the absurdity of his conduct in this
respect. "Alasco" was written by Mr. Shee, a harmless gentleman
enough, if at that time a less fully-developed courtier than he
appeared when, as Sir Martin Archer Shee, he occupied the presidential
chair of the Royal Academy. Possibly some suspicion attached to the
dramatist by reason of his being an Irishman and a Roman Catholic. In
any case, the Licenser found much to object to in "Alasco." The play
was in rehearsal at Covent Garden; but so many alterations and
suppressions were insisted on, that its representation became
impracticable. We may note a few of the lines expunged by the
Licenser:

With most unworthy patience have I seen
My country shackled and her sons oppressed;
And though I've felt their injuries, and avow
My ardent hope hereafter to avenge them, &c.

Tyrants, proud lord, are never safe, nor should be;
The ground is mined beneath them as they tread;
Haunted by plots, cabals, conspiracies,
Their lives are long convulsions, and they shake,
Surrounded by their guards and garrisons!

Some slanderous tool of state,
Some taunting, dull, unmannered deputy!

The words in italics were to be expunged from the following passages:

Tis ours to rescue from the oblivious grave
_Where tyrants have contrived to bury them,_
A gallant race--a nation--_and her fame;
To gather up the fragments of our state,
And in its cold, dismembered body, breathe
The living soul of empire._

Fear God and love the king--the soldier's faith--
Was always my religion; and I know
No heretics but cowards, knaves, and traitors--