nd was an actress
of decided talent, often still winning enthusiastic applause at the
expense of younger and more attractive women, who were inclined to think
her something of an old sorceress.

So much for the feminine element. The principal roles were all
represented; and if occasionally a re-enforcement was required, they
could almost always pick up some provincial actress, or even an
amateur, at a pinch. The actors were five in number: The pedant, already
described, who rejoiced in the name of Blazitis; Leander; Herode, the
tragic tyrant; Matamore, the bully; and Scapin, the intriguing valet.

Leander, the romantic, irresistible, young lover--darling of the
ladies--was a tall, fine-looking fellow of about thirty, though
apparently much more youthful, thanks to the assiduous care he bestowed
on his handsome person. His slightly curly, black hair was worn long,
so that he might often have occasion to push it back from his forehead,
with a hand as white and delicate as a woman's, upon one of whose taper
fingers sparkled an enormous diamond--a great deal too big to be real.
He was rather fancifully dressed, and always falling into such graceful,
languishing attitudes as he thought would be admired by the fair sex,
whose devoted slave he was. This Adonis never for one moment laid aside
his role. He punctuated his sentences with sighs, even when speaking of
the most indifferent matters, and assumed all sorts of preposterous airs
and graces, to the secret amusement of his companions. But he had great
success among the ladies, who all flattered him and declared he was
charming, until they had turned his head completely; and it was his firm
belief that he was irresistibly fascinating.

The tyrant was the most good-natured, easy-going creature imaginable;
but, strangely enough, gifted by nature with all the external signs of
ferocity. With his tall, burly frame, very dark skin, immensely thick,
shaggy eyebrows, black as jet, crinkly, bushy hair of the same hue, and
long beard, that grew far up on his cheeks, he was a very formidable,
fierce-looking fellow; and when he spoke, his loud, deep voice made
everything ring again. He affected great dignity, and filled his role to
perfection.

Matamore was as different as possible, painfully thin--scarcely more
than mere skin and bones--a living skeleton with a large hooked nose,
set in a long, narrow face, a huge mustache turned up at the ends, and
flashing, black eyes. His exces