The Portland daily press., 1881-02-28
A Stage-Box Episode.
BY ANNE THACKERAY RITcHIE.

We all of us know, or if we do not know
We have all of us heard of Sadlers Wells
theatre, standing in regions very distan,
from The West End. But the great circles
of iron have brought this mighty city into
bounds, and it is possible nowadays to take
ones pleasure or to attend to ones business
half dozen miles from home.
Sadler's Wells does not, however, depend
for its audience upon the jewellers on the
Capitoline hills of Mayfair or South Ken,
sington. 1t has its own life, its own inter.
ests and sympathies; 1t is essentially the
theatre of the Aventines-a republic where
the pit and the gallery reign supreme. 1t Is
handsome building, well proportioned, Of
oval shape. A great stage fronts the audi
ence. They come from the neighborine
streets and roads, from their dwellings BY
the river, from suburban squares and busy
roads. What Sadler's Wells was once We
may still see painted on the curtain-a
green, rural place, shady and outrageous
where hoped and powdered ladies', es
corted by attentive gentlemen. trip to the
restoring waters. If this were really thea.
tire for the Aventines. if we we're Romans liv.
ing in blue and yellow weather, this PEG.
pies colosseum might have been left unin-
closed and open to the stars of heaven: but
as it is, we are English, shuddering in a ia.
miliar atmosphere of Grape and half-mourn.
ing fog, and so the house is safely shut
away from the winds and the weather, and
the moonlight is homemade, and is manu-
featured expressly for the love scene.
A lovely moon, lovely scene it is, as we
find when the curtain rises and the play be
gins; and then, in a little while we are
touched by some magic. The theatre fades
away; that stage is no stage; London is not
Sadler's Wells is not; two centuries roll
back; the audience, the moonlit tragedy, all
are conveyed away from the present to q
past of Shakspeare's creation, to Italy, to
Verona, to the home of Juliet and of her
lover.
Shakespeare. like Beethoven, works with q
strange intimate charm, indescribable, but
unmistakable. AS the people listen, all that
they see and hear becomes their own, be.
comes themselves; their own secret told
their own feelings revealed. We never took
poison, we never FOUGHT in the streets of We.
roma, we never conquered France; we never
loved, hated, endured, philosophical,
dreamed such dreams: never saw such
sights in nature, never gathered such dewy
flowers as Shakespeare did, nor heard the
birds sing as they sang to him; but neverthe.
less, as he speaks to us we know it all. we
feel it all, we are touched and made into
poets, strung to some greater mood than our
customary humdrum.
Last night we saw thousand poets ut.
terly bewitched, charmed ont OF themselves
jewellers in Islington and Hearnslow WEIGH
bors of the CANCEL" humble nedestrisn NJ
who count from one public bopse tn anntb.
er. There thew sat-pods in the oaiioru
poets in the pit-watchinp the moon thst,
rose two hundred wears AGO. while the NIGHT.
ingales that sang in Shakspeare's time bnrst
into a new song. "Romeo and .Julietn is
very like the story nightingale MIGHT tell
Ii begins quietly, with some faint echo of
what is to come, low thrill, pause~pas-
sion's note suggested and then si1enced Pas for
a moment-then the iug-il,o of common.
place, and then comes a great nsssionato
outburst thrilling into every heart
The great theater was fill If h.rd. or,-
ing, honest faces, people resting and forget
ting their weeks work. not law Canitolines
trying to vile away an evening. the nit
surged to the stalls. the galleries we're
broad, and filled with this good audience
There were only about half a dozen boxes
in all; l think four on either side Two or
three of these were tenanted bv family mar.
ties who had come to see the traoedv of
"Romeo and Juliet" In one of them sat a
sive people, evidently with MANY reminis-
cences of other Romeos and .JnIiets cheer.
fully discoursing while their heads nodded
In the next box was silent party: in the
front of the box sat a beautiful younp wom-
an, with her head leaning on her hand
She was pale. dark-haired. q diamond star
was flashing In her thick nlaits and do.
mond was twinkling at her throat She
was dressed in black velvet. little white
muslin girl, with lovely brown ewes cot ha-
side her: a middIe-aped Iadv in q Iaca can
49, - As~SS SUP3
glasses, made up the marty. They ali ,oaEad
on very intently. though thew dia not COW
much about it. The bald gentleman was
Dick Willoughby, the well-known theatrical
critic of the Daily Harleonin He had
brought his wife and his beautifpl friand
Mrs. Baxter, and his little niece tn eea the
tragedy played.
WillougLby. whose nrofesson Soma ,or
sons might envy, and who was actnaiiv naid
for going to the theatre. looked with a lind md
grim sort of sympathy at his LITTLE niece
who sat breathless with her dark onrlv hood
against the red curtains wonJar;nn "a ao "h
sorbed Inv this nntnowr snaotaaie ~. 1.u ao-
of passion tossing before her tow.r rds $50 sea
vast horizon updreamed of nv LITTLE o;r rH of
fourteeu NOWADAYS. She MIGHT bave moSa
a pretty study for nainter had ,haro hoo,,
one present. and able tn witbdra ~ bic o ouen
from the wonderful the meIo,j;ons 49,.
rending history enacted that NIGHT N'"''-
The play begins. Cav Mercnt;o j., bic
glittering dou6let. had said bic s,1 =. th ,o
fiery Ty5alt has breathed venoeano sa sa.; une
the Montagues. old CannIef in h,s sss snt;n
doublet. has tried in vs;n co,,, h;a Sa.nn
kinsman. and then loi tho scana nha, ~ o"'
The MOONLIGHT is STREAMING IN tho Sonds
and gardens Of Verona. on the tarraces "c "mJ
heavy-scented flowers. on the bsIcon NV
where Juliet-dear. rebelious tenderv oo9
erous understands in her white ro S1n
The light falls on the sweet face With H..
wistful story. Then comes Ro,ne a'D ro rr0
quickly; he stands at the foot of the hal
cony, the lady bends from above. the scena
seems touched with some mvstic r.ntura
ssMy bounty ia AZ hopndIess % N. sIa 10,
1--we as desn. tho 49, Etc, 90 sne Sea' NY
more have, for both are infinite ;, ss ave-
Juliet's tender voice. and than SLo coy uay0
ishe.. with a soft. Whit fash re snv ian-