no one's while to put to death.
The haughty gallant, gay Lothario, is slain at the close of the fourth
act, but his corpse figures prominently in the concluding scenes. The
stage direction runs at the opening of the fifth act: "A room hung
with black; on one side Lothario's body on a bier; on the other a
table with a skull and other bones, a book and a lamp on it. Calista
is discovered on a couch, in black; her hair hanging loose and
disordered. Soft music plays." In this, as in similar cases, it was
clearly unnecessary that the personator of the live Lothario of the
first four acts should remain upon the stage to represent his dead
body in the fifth. It was usual, therefore, to allow the actor's
dresser to perform this doleful duty, and the dressers of the time
seem to have claimed occupation of this nature as a kind of privilege,
probably obtaining in such wise some title to increase of salary. The
original Lothario--the tragedy being first represented in 1703--was
George Powell, an esteemed actor who won applause from Addison and
Steele, but who appears to have been somewhat of a toper, and was
generally reputed to obscure his faculties by incessant indulgence in
Nantes brandy. The fourth act of the play over, the actor was
impatient to be gone, and was heard behind the scenes angrily
demanding the assistance of Warren, his dresser, entirely forgetful of
the fact that his attendant was employed upon the stage in personating
the corpse of Lothario. Mr. Powell's wrath grew more and more intense.
He threatened the absent Warren with the severest of punishments. The
unhappy dresser, reclining on Lothario's bier, could not but overhear
his raging master, yet for some time his fears were surmounted by his
sense of dramatic propriety. He lay and shivered, longing for the fall
of the curtain. At length his situation became quite unendurable.
Powell was threatening to break every bone in his skin. In his
dresser's opinion the actor was a man likely to keep his word. With a
cry of "Here I am, master!" Warren sprang up, clothed in sable
draperies which were fastened to the handles of his bier. The house
roared with surprise and laughter. Encumbered by his charnel-house
trappings, the dead Lothario precipitately fled from the stage. The
play, of course, ended abruptly. For once the sombre tragedy of "The
Fair Penitent" was permitted a mirthful conclusion.

Whenever unusual physical exertion is required of a player, a perilous
f