He had continued to act the heroes in the strolling company for some time after Buckthorne had left it, or rather had been driven from it so abruptly.  At length the manager died, and the troop was thrown into confusion.  Every one aspired to the crown; every one was for taking the lead; and the manager’s widow, although a tragedy queen, and a brimstone to boot, pronounced it utterly impossible to keep any control over such a set of tempestuous rascallions.

Upon this hint I spoke, said Flimsey—­I stepped forward, and offered my services in the most effectual way.  They were accepted.  In a week’s time I married the widow and succeeded to the throne.  “The funeral baked meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage table,” as Hamlet says.  But the ghost of my predecessor never haunted me; and I inherited crowns, sceptres, bowls, daggers, and all the stage trappings and trumpery, not omitting the widow, without the least molestation.

I now led a flourishing life of it; for our company was pretty strong And attractive, and as my wife and I took the heavy parts of tragedy, it was a great saving to the treasury.  We carried off the palm from all the rival shows at country fairs; and I assure you we have even drawn full houses, and being applauded by the critics at Bartlemy fair itself, though we had Astley’s troupe, the Irish giant, and “the death of Nelson” in wax-work to contend against.

I soon began to experience, however, the cares of command.  I discovered that there were cabals breaking out in the company, headed by the clown, who you may recollect was a terribly peevish, fractious fellow, and always in ill-humor.  I had a great mind to turn him off at once, but I could not do without him, for there was not a droller scoundrel on the stage.  His very shape was comic, for he had to turn his back upon the audience and all the ladies were ready to die with laughing.  He felt his importance, and took advantage of it.  He would keep the audience in a continual roar, and then come behind the scenes and fret and fume and play the very devil.  I excused a great deal in him, however, knowing that comic actors are a little prone to this infirmity of temper.

I had another trouble of a nearer and dearer nature to struggle with; which was, the affection of my wife.  As ill luck would have it, she took it into her head to be very fond of me, and became intolerably jealous.  I could not keep a pretty girl in the company, and hardly dared embrace an ugly one, even when my part required it.  I have known her to reduce a fine lady to tatters, “to very rags,” as Hamlet says, in an instant, and destroy one of the very best dresses in the wardrobe; merely because she saw me kiss her at the side scenes;—­though I give you my honor it was done merely by way of rehearsal.