r the stage and boxes. Moreover, the performances at the
private theatres were presented by candle or torch light. Probably it
was held that the effects of the stage were enhanced by their being
artificially illuminated, for in these times, at both public and
private theatres, the entertainments commenced early in the afternoon,
and generally concluded before sunset, or, at any rate, before dark.
As patience and endurance are more easy to the man who sits than to
the standing spectator, it came to be understood that a livelier kind
of entertainment must be provided for the "groundlings" of the public
theatres than there was need to present to the seated pit of the
private playhouses. The "fools of the yard" were charged with
requiring "the horrid noise of target-fight," "cutler's work," and
vulgar and boisterous exhibitions generally. These early patrons of
the more practical parts of the drama are entitled to be forbearingly
judged, however. Their comfort was little studied, and it is not
surprising, under the circumstances, that they should have favoured a
brisk and vivacious class of representations. The tedious playwright
did not merely oppress their minds; he made them remember how weary
were their legs.
But it is probable that the tastes thus generated were maintained long
after the necessity for their existence had departed, and that, even
when seats were permitted them, the "groundlings" still held by their
old forms of amusement, demanding dramas of liveliness, incident, and
action, and greatly preferring spectacle to speeches. From the
philosophical point of view the pit had acquired a bad name, and
couldn't or wouldn't get quit of it. Still it is by no means clear
that the sentiments ascribed to the pit were not those of the audience
generally.
Nevertheless the pit was improving in character. Gradually it boasted
a strong critical leaven; it became the recognised resort of the more
enlightened playgoers. Dryden in his prologues and epilogues often
addresses the pit, as containing notably the judges of plays and the
more learned of the audience. "The pit," says Swift, in the
introduction to his "Tale of a Tub," "is sunk below the stage, that
whatever of weighty matter shall be delivered thence, whether it be
lead or gold, may fall plump into the jaws of certain critics, as I
think they are called, which stand ready open to devour them." "Your
bucks of the pit," says an old occasional address of later dat
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