ach was a beauty:
Mrs. Woffington, a grand brunette, dark browed, with flashing eyes
and stately mien: Mrs. Bellamy, a blonde, blue-eyed and
golden-haired--an accomplished actress, if an affected one. Now, Mrs.
Bellamy's grand dress of deep yellow satin, with a robe of rich purple
velvet, was found to have a most injurious effect upon the delicate
straw-coloured skirts of Mrs. Woffington; they seemed to be reduced to
a dirty white hue. The ladies fairly quarrelled over their dresses. At
length, if we may adopt Mrs. Bellamy's account of the proceeding, Mrs.
Woffington's rage was so kindled "that it nearly bordered on madness.
When, oh! dire to tell! she drove me off the carpet and gave me the
_coup de grace_ almost behind the scenes. The audience, who, I
believe, preferred hearing my last dying speech to seeing her beauty
and fine attitude, could not avoid perceiving her violence, and
testified their displeasure at it." Possibly the scene excited mirth
in an equal degree. Foote forthwith prepared a burlesque, "The
Green-room Squabble; or, A Battle Royal between the Queen of Babylon
and the Daughter of Darius." The same tragedy, it may be noted, had at
an earlier date been productive of discord in the theatre. Mrs. Barry,
as Roxana, had indeed stabbed her Statira, Mrs. Boutell, with such
violence that the dagger, although the point was blunted, "made its
way through Mrs. Boutell's stays and entered about a quarter of an
inch into the flesh." It is not clear, however, that this contest,
like the other, is to be attributed to antagonism in the matter of
dress.

The characteristics of the "tiring-room" have always presented
themselves in a ludicrous light to the ordinary observer. There is
always a jumble of incongruous articles, and a striking contrast
between the ambitious pretensions of things and their real
meanness--between the facts and fictions of theatrical life. Mr.
Collier quotes from Brome's comedy, "The Antipodes," 1640, a curious
account of the contents of the "tiring-house" of that time. Byeplay,
an actor, one of the characters, is speaking of the hero Peregrine,
who is in some sort a reflection of Don Quixote:

He has got into our tiring-house amongst us,
And ta'en a strict survey of all our properties.

* * * * *

Whether he thought 'twas some enchanted castle,
Or temple hung and piled with monuments
Of uncouth and of varied aspects,
I dive not