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and, being exceeding witty as ever I heard woman, did talk most pleasantly with him; but was, I believe, a most virtuous woman, and of quality. would fain know who she was, but she would not tell; yet did give him many pleasant hints of her knowledge of him, by that means setting his brains at work to find out who she was, and did give him leave to use all means to find out who she was, but pulling off her mask. He was mighty witty, and she also making sport with him very inoffensively, that a more pleasant rencontre I never heard. But by that means lost the pleasure of the play wholly, to which now and then Sir Charles Sedley's exceptions against both words and pronouncing were very pretty.

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And here is an entry that would have increased Mrs. Pepys' jealousy of the gay little actress who was so great a favourite of her husband's : "To the King's house, where I did give 18d., and saw the last two acts of 'The Goblins,' a play I could not make anything of by these two acts, but here Knipp spied me out of the tireing-room, and come to the pitdoor, and I out to her, and kissed her, she only coming to see me, being in a country-dress, she and others having, it seems, had a country-dance in the play, but she no other part; so we parted, and I into the pit again till it was done. The house full, but I had

no mind to be seen.

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The actresses of those days had very little privacy in their professional lives, all the secrets of their make-up being exposed to the gallants whom it was the custom of the time to admit to the dressing-rooms. Pepys tells us, in the following entry, of one of his visits to these apartments: "To the King's house and then, going in, met with Knipp, and she took us up into the tireing-rooms : and to the women's shift, where Nell was dressing herself, and was all unready, and is very pretty, prettier than I thought. And into the scene-room, and there sat

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down, and she gave us fruit. And here I read the questions to Knipp, while she answered me, through all her part of Flora's Figarys, which was acted to-day. But, Lord! to see how they were both painted would make a man mad, and did make me loathe them ; and what base company of men comes among them, and how lewdly they talk! and how poor the men are in clothes, and yet what a show they make on the stage by candle-light is very observable. But to see how Nell cursed, for having so few people in the pit, was pretty.'

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When the actresses were ready for the stage these favoured gallants, among whom Pepys was on this occasion, stood at the side scenes, lounged into the pit and talked with the pretty orange girls, listened when they were pleased, and then back to the dressing-rooms when the act was over, the lady who attracted the greatest number of visitors having a feeling of superiority over the others. Sir Hugh

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Middleton very ungallantly made harsh criticisms on the appearance of the ladies, and Beck Marshall replied so sharply that he brutally threatened to kick her. She informed the King, and the titled ruffian employed a fellow to smear her face with filth as she was leaving the theatre. result was that a royal decree forbade gentlemen to visit the dressing-rooms, but as this prohibition was as unpopular with the actresses as with the gallants themselves, it was soon disregarded, and the easy-going Charles paid no more attention to the matter.

With orange girls selling fruit and indulging in badinage in the pit, wits engaging in wordy wars with masked ladies in the boxes, fops oscillating between the dressing-rooms and the pit, footmen fighting for places in the gallery, and quarrels arising at times which had to be settled then and there, the theatre must have been an interesting place of resort in seventeenth century.

A LAST NIGHT AT RIDEAU HALL, APRIL 5TH, 1878.

BY MARTIN J. GRIFFIN.

I.

WHEN pain ends, and the fevered brow

With life's best blood again is flushed,

And friends again aloud may speak,

And footsteps are no longer hushed,

And through the open chamber door
Out and across the summer lawn,
We pass, a prisoner no more,

By nature's strong impulses drawn;

Even then, such strength in habit lies,
Some still regret may stir the heart ;
For, formed in suffering, tenderest ties

Must sever, and dear friends must part;

'The great world draws the working hand
Again to toil and daily strife,

And all the trouble of the land

O'erwhelms the quiet thoughtful life

Which late we led, with book and pen
Rehearsing, in the ebb of pain,

'The movements of the waves of men
That rise and fall and rise again.

II.

So often, that last night, my Lord,

Which we shall pass beneath your roof'That last fair scene, that last sweet word, Which put our pulses to the proof,

I could not join the rapturous throng, Whose hands, responsive to their hearts, Gave tribute to the touching song,

And echo to the actors' parts.

For here,' I said, 'there comes an end
To these five years of pleasant play,
This night's the last that we shall spend,—
To-morrow dawns a darker day.

'Ring down the curtain, silent all,

Clasp hands with half a sob at heart,

Fling o'er the scene its proper pall,
And silent, with bent head, depart;

'We shall not witness in our time
Again such scenes of grace and joy,
Such blendings rare of prose and rhyme,
Such happiness without alloy.'

III.

Sir, you will pass to your high place,
Among the peers of mother land,
And matched with loveliness and grace,
Beside the Throne of England stand.

And we shall sigh as spring by spring Returns in vain, for nights like those Fair nights we saw when you would bring Foes who forgot that they were foes,

At your desire; and faces fair
As any the sun shines upon,
To form a social gathering rare,-

But all that pleasure's past and gone.

Henceforth we hold your memory dear
As long ago in pleasant France
They worshipped him who was your peer,
Who carried first his knightly lance,

And saw old Barbazan die, and passed
To quiet scholar days, with song,
Love, art and letters, and at last

Breathed out a quiet soul though strong,

And later time still holds him dear
The good King René of Anjou,
And we will cherish till we die,
Like pleasant memories of you.

IV.

Yet not alone, for festive nights
And days of pageant and of pride,

And art that social life delights

Shall thy high name with us abide ;

For you have shown the statesman's soul,
And the strong ruler's guiding hand,

Wit to convince, will to control,

And wisdom governing this land;

Have given us fame in every land,
And higher station in our own
Great Empire, and thy name shall stand
Forever here, as grand in stone

Still stand the names of those who gave
Grandeur to Greece and power to Rome—
We need not seek one classic grave,
We find our hero here at home.

Thou shalt not cease thy high career

When down the broad St. Lawrence stream Thy great brave-breasted bark shall steer And these five years become a dream;

Thy fame shall grow, thy hand be set

To higher tasks, and thou shalt show

We keep the breed of nobles yet,
That won us empire long ago.

THE MONKS OF THELEMA.

BY WALTER BESANT AND JAMES RICE.

Authors of • Ready Money Mortiboy,'' The Golden Butterfly,' ' By Celia's Arbour,' etc., etc.

CHARACTERS INTRODUCED IN THE FIRST THIRTEEN CHAPTERS OF THE NOVEL.

SISTERS AND BROTHERS OF THELEMA.

MIRANDA DALMENY (Lady Abbess).—A beautiful and wealthy heiress, owner of Dalmeny Hall,
where she lives with her widowed mother. In love with Alan Dunlop.
In love with Alan Dunlop. Has no hobbies.
Possesses a sympathetic charm of manner, which makes every one confide in her.
NELLY DESPARD (Sister Rosalind).-Young and beautiful. In love with Tom Caledon, but
forbidden by strict maternal injunctions from giving him any encouragement.
ADELA FAIRFAX (Sister Cecilia).-A Catholic. Plays beautifully on the piano and organ.
SISTER AWDREY.-A genius. Has written a play, which has been rejected by all the managers

in London. Writes novels, and pays £50 each, besides cost of printing, &c., for the privilege of getting them published. Edits one of the three Abbey papers.

SISTER ROMOLA.-Scientific. Has a laboratory, and makes "really dreadful stinks.”
SISTER CORDELIA.-Yearns to see womanhood at work.

SISTER HERO.-A bright-faced girl, not a bit fierce. A worshipper of "advanced" women.
SISTER SILVIA.-A Ritualist.

SISTER UNA.-Artistic.

actress.

CLAIRETTE FANSHAWE (Sister Desdemona).-An elderly widow. In her young days a great ALAN DUNLOP (Brother Hamlet).-Son of Lord Alwyne Fontaine. Owner, in right of his dead mother, of Weyland Court, formerly Weyland Priory (The Abbey of Thelema), a grand old pile. A youthful enthusiast, fresh from Lothian College, Oxford, with a mission to reform the world. An apostle of culture, and of "The Great Movement of the Nineteenth Century.

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TOM CALEDON (Brother Lancelot).-In love with Nelly Despard. A member of the great army of ineligibles, being "passing rich" on a pitiful £700 a-year.

ROGER EXTON (Brother Peregrine).-A wealthy merchant, recently returned from Assam,

where he has made a large fortune in tea or indigo. Although only a little over thirty, his face is lined with multitudinous crowsfeet. Apparently a suitor (not yet declared) for the hand of Nelly Despard. Has published a poem called "Lalnee and Ramsami, or Love Among the Assamese.”

PAUL RONDELET (Brother Parolles).-Fellow of Lothian College, where he was a student with Alan. An intellectual prig; affects omniscience; so highly cultured that he cannot possibly avoid pitying his fellow-creatures. Talks in languid, dilettante fashion of the Renaissance, the Higher Culture, the Higher Art, &c.

BROTHER CHRICHTON.-Chose his own name, because he said he knew nothing, and could do nothing.

BROTHER BENEDICK.-Edits one of the Abbey papers.
BROTHER BAYARD.-Lectures on the Eastern Question.
BROTHERS MERCUTIO, LESMAHAGO, and PARIS.

OUTSIDERS.

LORD ALWYNE FONTAINE.-Fourth son of the fourth Duke of Brecknock. Alan's father, and a widower. Wealthy and epicurean, with a contented mind, a good heart, and an excellent digestion. Gets as much enjoyment out of life as possible. Looks upon his son's vagaries with a half-pitying, half-amused tolerance. Lives at chambers in London. STEPHEN BOSTOCK.-Bailiff of Alan's farm. Vulgar-minded and dishonest.

THE VICAR OF WEYLAND. -Enjoys social gatherings-balls, dinners, theatres, concerts, &c. Wrote a play when young, which ran twenty-five nights. Writes novels under an assumed name.

LUCY CORRINGTON.-Eldest of his three daughters. Pretty and good-natured.
PRUDENCE DRIVER.-- Librarian in the village Free Library established by Alan.

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