But critical Joe could never forget the bard's so-called "faults" of construction.] THEATRICAL PROPERTY (_Steele in "The Tatler," No.

42_) It is now twelve of the clock at noon, and no mail come in; therefore I am not without hopes that the town will allow me the liberty which my brother news-writers take in giving them what may be for information in another kind, and indulge me in doing an act of friendship, by publishing the following account of goods and moveables.
This is to give notice, that a magnificent palace, with great variety of gardens, statues, and water works, may be bought cheap in Drury-lane; where there are likewise several castles, to be disposed of, very delightfully situated; as also groves, woods, forests, fountains, and country-seats, with very pleasant prospects on all sides of them; being the moveables of Christopher Rich, Esquire,[A] who is breaking up house-keeping, and has many curious pieces of furniture to dispose of, which may be seen between the hours of six and ten in the evening.
[Footnote A: This essay was written (July, 1709) at the time that Drury Lane was closed, by order of the Lord Chamberlain.] THE INVENTORY.
Spirits of right Nantz brandy, for lambent flames and apparitions.
Three bottles and a half of lightning.
One shower of snow in the whitest French paper.
Two showers of a browner sort.
A sea, consisting of a dozen large waves; the tenth bigger than ordinary, and a little damaged.
A dozen and a half of clouds, trimmed with black, and well conditioned.
A rainbow, a little faded.
A set of clouds after the French mode, streaked with lightning and furbelowed.
A new moon, something decayed.
A pint of the finest Spanish wash, being all that is left of two hogsheads sent over last winter.
A coach very finely gilt, and little used, with a pair of dragons, to be sold cheap.
A setting-sun, a pennyworth.
An imperial mantle, made for Cyrus the Great, and worn by Julius Caesar, Bajazet, King Harry the Eighth, and Signor Valentini.
A basket-hilted sword, very convenient to carry milk in.
Roxana's night-gown.
Othello's handkerchief.
The imperial robes of Xerxes, never worn but once.
A wild boar killed by Mrs.Tofts[A] and Dioclesian.
[Footnote A: A favourite singer of the day.] A serpent to sting Cleopatra.
A mustard-bowl to make thunder with.
Another of a bigger sort, by Mr.D----'s[A] directions, little used.
[Footnote A: John Dennis, the critic.] Six elbow-chairs, very expert in country dances, with six flower-pots for their partners.
The whiskers of a Turkish Pasha.
The complexion of a murderer in a band-box; consisting of a large piece of burnt cork, and a coal-black peruke.
A suit of clothes for a ghost, viz., a bloody shirt, a doublet curiously pinked, and a coat with three great eyelet-holes upon the breast.
A bale of red Spanish wool.
Modern plots, commonly known by the name of trapdoors, ladders of ropes, vizard-masques, and tables with broad carpets over them.
Three oak-cudgels, with one of crab-tree; all bought for the use of Mr.Pinkethman.[A] [Footnote A: The comedian.] Materials for dancing; as masques, castanets, and a ladder of ten rounds.
Aurengezebe's scymitar, made by Will Brown in Piccadilly.
A plume of feathers, never used but by Oedipus and the Earl of Essex.
There are also swords, halbards, sheep-hooks, cardinals' hats, turbans, drums, gallipots, a gibbet, a cradle, a rack, a cart-wheel, an altar, an helmet, a back-piece, a breast-plate, a bell, a tub, and a jointed baby.
ACTORS AND AUDIENCE.
(_From Cibber's "Apology_") Among our many necessary reformations, what not a little preserved to us the regard of our auditors was the decency of our clear stage, from whence we had now for many years shut out those idle gentlemen who seemed more delighted to be pretty objects themselves than capable of any pleasure from the play; who took their daily stands where they might best elbow the actor, and come in for their share of the auditor's attention.

In many a laboured scene of the wannest humour and of the most affecting passion I have seen the best actors disconcerted, while these buzzing muscatos have been fluttering round their eyes and ears.

How was it possible an actor, so embarrassed, should keep his impatience from entering into that different temper which his personated character might require him to be master of?
Future actors may perhaps wish I would set this grievance in a stronger light; and, to say the truth, where auditors are ill-bred, it cannot well be expected that actors should be polite.

Let me therefore show how far an artist in any science is apt to be hurt by any sort of inattention to his performance.
While the famous Corelli,[A] at Rome, was playing some musical composition of his own to a select company in the private apartment of his patron-Cardinal, he observed, in the heighth of his harmony, his Eminence was engaging in a detached conversation, upon which he suddenly stopt short and gently laid down his instrument.