Читать книгу Journal of a Residence in America - Fanny Kemble - Страница 41

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Rose at eight. At eleven, went to rehearsal. Mr. Keppel is just as nervous and as imperfect as ever: what on earth will he, or shall I, do to-night! Came home, got things out for the theatre, and sat like any stroller stitching for dear life at my head-dress. Mr. H—— and his nephew called: the latter asked me if I was at all apprehensive? No, by my troth, I am not; and that not because I feel sure of success, for I think it very probable the Yankees may like to show their critical judgment and independence by damning me; but because, thank God, I do not care whether they do or not: the whole thing is too loathsome to me, for either failure or success to affect me in the least, and therefore I feel neither nervous nor anxious about it. We dined at three: after dinner, J—— came; he sat some time. When he was gone, I came into the drawing-room, and found a man sitting with my father, who presented him to me by some inaudible name. I sat down, and the gentleman pursued his conversation as follows:—"When Clara Fisher came over, Barry wrote to me about her, and I wrote him back word: 'My dear fellow, if your bella donna is such as you describe, why, we'll see what we can do; we will take her by the hand.'" This was enough for me. I jumped up, and ran out of the room; because a newspaper writer is my aversion. At half-past six, went to the theatre. They acted the farce of Popping the Question first, in order, I suppose, to get the people to their places before the play began. Poor Mr. Keppel was gasping for breath; he moved my compassion infinitely; I consoled and comforted him all I could, gave him some of my lemonade to swallow, for he was choking with fright; sat myself down with my back to the audience, and up went the curtain. Owing to the position in which I was sitting, and my plain dress, most unheroine-like in its make and colour, the people did not know me, and would not have known me for some time, if that stupid man had done as I kept bidding him, gone on; but instead of doing so, he stood stock still, looked at me, and then at the audience, whereupon the latter caught an inkling of the truth, and gave me such a reception as I get in Covent Garden theatre every time I act a new part. The house was very full; all the—— were there, and Colonel——. Mr. Keppel was frightened to death, and in the very second speech was quite out: it was in vain that I prompted him; he was too nervous to take the word, and made a complete mess of it. This happened more than once in the first scene; and at the end of the first act, as I left the stage, I said to D——, "It's all up with me, I can't do any thing now;" for, having to prompt my Fazio, frightened by his fright, annoyed by his forgetting his crossings and positions, utterly unable to work myself into any thing like excitement, I thought the whole thing must necessarily go to pieces. However, once rid of my encumbrance, which I am at the end of the second act, I began to move a little more freely, gathered up my strength, and set to work comfortably by myself; whereupon, the people applauded, I warmed (warmed, quotha! the air was steam), and got through very satisfactorily, at least so it seems. My dresses were very beautiful; but oh, but oh, the musquitoes had made dreadful havoc with my arms, which were covered with hills as large and red as Vesuvius in an eruption. After the play, my father introduced me to Mr. B——, Lord S——'s brother, who was behind the scenes; his brother's place, by the by. Came home, supped.

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Came to bed at half past twelve; weary, and half melted away. The ants swarm on the floors, on the tables, in the beds, about one's clothes; the plagues of Egypt were a joke to them: horrible! it makes one's life absolutely burdensome, to have creatures creeping about one, and all over one, night and day, this fashion; to say nothing of those cantankerous stinging things, the musquitoes.