I looked down from my window into the
garden, to ascertain if I could venture upon a leap; but it was much too
high for me, yet there was a ladder against the wall, though not near
enough for me to reach. What was I to do? I tied sundry pocket-handkerchiefs together, which I
wetted. I then tied an ornament that served as a paper weight, being
rather heavy, and holding one end of the wet handkerchief in my hand, I
threw the heavy end towards the ladder, which it caught, winding itself
round one of the rungs so tightly that I was enabled to draw it towards
me and place it just under my window, ready for the evening. The evening came. I waited till my parents were at supper. This was just
about the time that the evening's performance would be at an end. I
donned my worst clothes, and tying up some necessaries in a handkerchief
and taking a walking-stick to carry the bundle across my shoulder, I
opened my casement and cautiously descended the ladder till I found
myself in the garden. There was yet another obstacle to be overcome; the garden wall had to be
scaled, for the gate was already locked. The wall was high, but after
much exertion and many falls, I scrambled up--I hardly know how--and
leapt down the other side into the road. I found that I had ripped up my
coat behind and damaged the knees of my small clothes. In this plight I made my appearance before the manager. He looked at me
from head to foot, scrutinisingly; asked me my name and what I had been
bred up to. I gave him the name I bear at present, and said that I had
never been brought up to any trade, but had always had a taste for the
stage. "Humph!" he muttered, observing that I spoke better English than himself
or his company, "you appear a youth of some little education--eh?" "I trust that will not unfit me for your company?" I said. "On the contrary, young man," he said, "we are in want of educated
actors; but what brings you in this pitiful plight?" "The frowns of fortune," I observed, laconically. "Ah!" he observed, with a smile; "I understand. Well, what can you do?" "My _forte_," I replied, "is high tragedy." "Ah! I dare say," said he, satirically, "and I've no doubt you'll tell
me that Macbeth, Hamlet, and Othello are your chief characters." "Precisely so," I replied; "that is just what I mean to say." "I thought so," he said. "My dear young man, you're stage-struck like
many others at your age. All you youngsters, when you begin, fancy that
you are going to leap over the heads of us old experienced actors with a
bound; but in everything you must begin at the beginning, and you will
have to serve your apprenticeship at acting as well as anything else." "Serve my apprenticeship!" I muttered to myself, indignantly. "_I_, the
son of a gentleman, serve an apprenticeship!" But I held my peace, as it did not suit me to quarrel with the manager
at the onset. "You must content yourself at present with small parts," said the
manager, "such as a page or walking gentleman, or, being yet very
youthful looking, you might take a female part." The latter part of the manager's speech offended my dignity, but I said
nothing. "Come," said he, "let me see what you can do. Give me your idea of
Hamlet. Begin with, 'To be, or not to be.'" I accordingly began at the well-known passage, and recited it all the
way through. "Not so bad, by jingo!" said he. "Bravo! I did not think you were such a
clever fellow. Now do the dagger scene in Macbeth." I then went through that with equal success, and received very high
praise from the manager, who engaged me on the spot. I gave out a hint
that I had eaten nothing all day, and was very hungry, so the manager
invited me to supper. I made the acquaintance of all the other strolling
players--a queer lot--who looked at me askance, doubtless because they
saw I came of a rather better stock than they themselves, and probably
they speculated on what they could make out of me. Early the next morning we all started for London, and my _debut_ was
made in a low London theatre, where I took the part of a young lady
carried away by brigands. In the next piece I acted a page, in the next
a lover, and so on. But I soon grew discontented with this small
theatre, for I longed to show myself to the educated public, so I left
my first manager, and sought an engagement in some more fashionable
theatre. Here I had to act a fairy prince in a pantomime. The pantomime was a
great success, and drew many spectators. At the same time that the
pantomime was going on, I had to act a page in one of Shakespeare's
plays. I was now seventeen, and both tall and well grown, and possessed
at that time--I think I can afford to say so now, gentlemen, as I am
verging at present towards "the sear and yellow leaf"--a figure and a
face that were the envy of the whole company. Well, gentlemen, I improved fast in my profession, and one evening when
the play of Romeo and Juliet was being acted at the theatre, the actor
who should have taken the part of Romeo was indisposed only a few
minutes before the curtain drew up. There was no one else in the company
but myself who was sufficiently up in the part to take his place, so I
offered my services, and they were accepted. Now, Romeo was one of my favourite characters, and I had studied the
part carefully; but the manager knew nothing of my talents as yet; in
fact, he confessed to me afterwards that he was very doubtful as to the
success of the piece that evening. When the curtain drew up and the piece proceeded, I fancied I noticed
signs of discontent among the audience at not finding the usual Romeo,
but as I went on with my part the applause was so great that I felt as
if my reputation were established for life. In fact, I completely
eclipsed the actor whose part I had taken, inasmuch that the public
refused to hear him again in that part, and the manager allotted his
part to me. This led to great jealousy between us. We quarrelled, and I made this
the excuse for leaving the theatre, being anxious to appear in a still
more fashionable one. I sought an engagement in one of the largest
theatres in the metropolis, and as I already had some fame, I was
engaged at once. The manager had seen me perform himself, and promised
me when Romeo and Juliet should be acted again in his theatre that he
would give me the part of Romeo. They happened to be acting Hamlet then;
and the part of Laertes was allotted to me. I acquitted myself with much
_eclat_, and a long and favourable criticism appeared in the papers
afterwards. One evening I took the part of Hamlet, the usual actor not being able to
perform, and acquitted myself so well that the papers were full of the
wonderful young actor. From this time my name began to be famous. I
received a good salary, dressed fashionably, and entered into the best
society.