*

Should we judge of this man by his visage and note,
We'd imagine a rookery built in his throat,
Whose caws were immixed with his vocal recitals,
While others stole downwards and fed on his vitals.

Still there can be no doubt that he played with extreme
conscientiousness, and was fully impressed with a sense of his
professional responsibilities. The loss of his wig must have
occasioned him acute distress. For a moment he hesitated. What was he
to do? Should he forget that he was Richard? Should he remember that
he was only Mr. Bensley? He resolved to ignore the accident, to
abandon his wig. Shorn of his locks, he delivered his speech in his
most impressive manner. Of course he had to endure many interruptions.
An Irish audience is rarely forbearing--has a very quick perception of
the ludicrous. The jeering and ironic cheering that arose must have
gravely tried the tragedian. "Mr. Bensley, darling, put on your
jasey!" cried the gallery. "Bad luck to your politics! Will you suffer
a Whig to be hung?" But the actor did not flinch. His exit was as
dignified and commanding as had been his entrance. He did not even
condescend to notice his wig as he passed it, depending from its nail
like a scarecrow. One of the attendants of the stage was sent on to
remove it, the duty being accomplished amidst the most boisterous
laughter and applause of the whole house.

Mr. Bernard, in his "Retrospections of the Stage," makes humorous
mention of a provincial manager of the last century who was always
referred to as "Pentland and his wig," from his persistent adherence
to an ancient peruke, which, as he declared, had once belonged to
Colley Cibber. The wig was of the pattern worn on state occasions by
the Lord Chief Justice of England, a structure of horsehair, that
descended to the shoulders in dense lappels. Pentland, who had been
fifty years a manager, was much bent with infirmity, and afflicted
with gout in all his members, still was wont to appear as the juvenile
heroes of the drama. But in his every part, whether Hamlet or Don
Felix, Othello or Lord Townley, he invariably assumed this formidable
wig. Altogether his aspect and performance must have been of an
extraordinary kind. He played Plume, the lively hero of Farquhar's
"Recruiting Officer," dressed in an old suit of regimentals, and
wearing above his famous wig a prodigious cocked hat. The rising of
the curtain discovered him seated in an easy-chair