scene of “the gallant and the gay;” but who shall describe the prolonged agonies of the dark seducer! his platted hair escaping from the comb that held it, and the dark crineous cordage that flapped upon his shoulders in the convulsions of his dying moments, and the cries of the people for medical aid to accomplish his eternal exit.  Then, when in his last throes his bonnet fell, it was miraculous to see the defunct arise, and after he had spread a nice handkerchief on the stage, and there deposited his head-dress, free from impurity, philosophically resume his dead condition; but it was not yet over, for the exigent audience, not content “that when the man were dead, why there an end,” insisted on a repetition of the awful scene, which the highly flattered corpse executed three several times to the gratification of the cruel and torment-loving assembly.

Coates, too, was destined to participate somewhat in the celebrated fete in honour of the Bourbons in 1811.  Having no opportunity of learning in the West Indies the propriety of being presented at court, ere he could be upon a more intimate footing with the prince, he was less astonished than delighted at the reception of an invitation on that occasion to Carlton house.  What was the fame acquired by his cockleshell curricle, (by the way, the very neatest thing seen in London before or since;) his scenic reputation; all the applause attending the perfection of histrionic art; the flatteries of Billy Finch, (a sort of kidnapper of juvenile actors and actresses, of the O. P. and P. S. in Russell-court;) the sanction of a Petersham; the intimacy of a Barrymore; even the polite endurance of a Skeffington to this!  To be classed with the proud, the noble, and the great.  It seemed a natural query, whether the Bourbon’s name were not a pretext for his own introduction to royalty, under circumstances of unprecedented splendour and magnificence.  It must have been so.  What cogitations respecting dress, and air, and port, and bearing!  What torturing of the confounded lanky locks, to make them but revolve ever so little! then the rich cut velvet—­the diamond buttons—­ay, every one was composed of brilliants!  The night arrived:  ushered by well-rigged watchmen to clear the way, the honoured sedan bore its precious burthen to the palace, and the glittering load was deposited in the royal vestibule itself.  Alas! what confusion, horror, and dismay were there, when the ticket was pronounced a forgery!  All that the considerate politeness of a Bloomfield or a Turner might effect was done to alleviate the fatal disappointment.  The case was even reported instanter to the prince himself; but etiquette was amongst the other “restrictions” imposed upon his royal highness; and, however tempered by compliment and excuse, “the diamonds blaze” reached not farther than the hall, and were destined to waste their splendour, for the remainder of the night, in the limited apartments of Craven-street.