this moment, or I'll break every bone in your skin!" Warren, terrified, jumped up with all his funereal appendages about him, which unfortunately were tied fast to the handles of the bier. The audience burst out into a roar. This only frightened him; he tugged away, threw down Calista (Mrs. Barry), and overwhelmed her with the table, lamp, book, bones, and all the paraphernalia of the charnelhouse. He succeeded at last in breaking away from his trammels, and rushed off the stage; and the play at once ended, amid shrieks of laughter. Even the stately Betterton relaxed from his gravity,
"Smiled in the tumult and enjoy'd the storm."
But he prudently withdrew the play for the remainder of the season.
In 1706, a strange fancy came over our poet. He was of an hilarious disposition, always ready for a laugh, and this propensity he probably mistook for comic power. He accordingly produced his comedy of "The Biter" (a cant term for one who hoaxes), and the dreary production failed ignominiously. Rowe was not at all prepared for such a catastrophe, and himself keenly enjoyed its representation, laughing immoderately at the exquisite jokes with which he fancied it abounded.
In the same year he produced the tragedy of "Ulysses," which was acted at the theatre in the Haymarket, and dedicated to the Lord Godolphin. It was successful at the time, and the character of Penelope, which Mrs. Barry personated, was finely drawn; but it has not escaped the neglect which has attended all attempts in England to give novelty or variety to the stories of the Pagan mythology. "The Royal Convert," acted in 1708, did not meet with much success, though the part of Rodogune, a Saxon Princess, is finely conceived and eminently tragical. Gibbon intimates that
