not change immediately.  His portraits remain recognisable for a generation, probably.  Lord Foppington had descendants, and his likeness, with certain changes of dress, might fairly pass for theirs for some time.  But, of course, the day must arrive when the comedy loses value as a reflection of manners; it is interesting as a transcript of the past, but not of the present.  It is doubtless difficult to fix this date with preciseness; but when that has been accomplished the opportunity of the antiquarian costumier has arrived.

Macklin, who reformed the costume of Macbeth, also, it should be recorded, was the first actor who “dressed Iago properly.”  It seems that formerly the part was so attired, or “made up,” that Iago’s evil nature was “known at first sight; but it is unnatural to suppose that an artful villain like him would choose a dress which would stigmatise him to everyone.  I think,” adds the critic, “that as Cassio and he belong to one regiment they should both retain the same regimentals.”  By way of final note on the subject is subjoined the opinion of the author of “Vivian Grey,” recorded in that work touching the dress that should be worn by Othello.  “In England we are accustomed to deck this adventurous Moor in the costume of his native country—­but is this correct?  The Grand Duke of Reisenberg thought not.  Othello was an adventurer; at an early age he entered, as many foreigners did, into the service of Venice.  In that service he rose to the highest dignities—­became general of her armies and of her fleets; and finally the viceroy of her favourite kingdom.  Is it natural to suppose that such a man should have retained, during his successful career, the manners and dress of his original country?  Ought we not rather to admit that, had he done so, his career would in fact not have been successful?  In all probability he imitated to affectation the manners of the country which he had adopted.  It is not probable that in such, or in any age, the turbaned Moor would have been treated with great deference by the common Christian soldier of Venice—­or, indeed, that the scandal of a heathen leading the armies of one of the most powerful of European states, would have been tolerated for an instant by indignant Christendom....  Such were the sentiments of the Grand Duke of Reisenberg on this subject, a subject interesting to Englishmen; and I confess I think they are worthy of attention.  In accordance with his opinion, the actor who performed Othello appeared in the full dress of a Venetian magnifico of the Middle Ages:  a fit companion for Cornaro, or Grimani, or Barberigo, or Foscari.”

CHAPTER XXXIV.

HARLEQUIN AND CO.

What is called the “legitimate drama” has always found in pantomime just such a rival and a relative as Gloucester’s lawfully-begotten son Edgar was troubled with in the person of his base-born brother Edmund.  The authentic professor of histrionic art may even have been addressed occasionally by his illicit opponent in something like Edmund’s very words: