The Duchess of Drury Lane by Freda Lightfoot Page A

is a tragi-comedy and you will play Bellario, a page who turns out to be a girl.’
    I thought about the disaster when first I trod the boards at Smock Alley by being forced, by Daly, to play in a tragedy. My resolve never to allow that to happen again strengthened. ‘May I make an alternative suggestion?’
    The two men exchanged a surprised glance but then turned to me as one, offering a polite smile. ‘We are always interested to hear an actress’s view,’ Sheridan said, so charmingly that I warmed to him a little.
    Taking a breath I mustered as much tact as I could. ‘I have no wish to intrude upon Mrs Siddons’ territory. She is, as you say, a great actress, the queen of tragedy. In any case, that is not my forte. Nor have I any wish to play the perfect lady parts performed so ably by Miss Farren. I do not possess either her elegance or her dignity. I am much happier playing comedy. And if I am to succeed then I must play to my strengths, not my weakness, do you not agree?’
    ‘I have no quarrel with what you have said thus far,’ Sheridan said.
    ‘Nor I,’ agreed Tom King. ‘But if Philaster does not appeal, then what do you suggest?’
    I leaned forward in my seat, anxious to put my case as well as possible. ‘While in Yorkshire I saw a performance by Mrs Brown in The Country Girl , the revised version, and realized the potential of the role of Peggy for myself. Consequently, I studied it with great care and feel I have a full grasp of the lines and character.’
    The manager seemed to be giving my suggestion serious consideration, ‘I do agree that Garrick’s adaptation is less outrageous than the original. Even the most scrupulous could find no offence in it. But it is some time since it was revived. Would it work, I wonder?’
    ‘I am prepared to take the risk if you are,’ I persisted. ‘And if it fails, then I will be the one to bear the greater loss. I cannot think that Mrs Siddons would have any objection to it.’
    The two men put their heads together for a little private deliberation, and then Sheridan sat back and actually beamed at me. ‘Very well, we are agreed. Your debut will be in The Country Girl . Welcome to the company, Mrs Jordan.’
    First night was Tuesday, the eighteenth of October, 1785, and I was aquiver with nerves, as always. Rehearsals had gone well as I had instantly warmed to the rest of the cast, some of whom, like Tom King, remembered Mama from her days as Grace Phillips. And without exception they were all most supportive. Nevertheless, I was a trembling wreck. ‘What if they do not like me?’ I moaned to Hester. ‘What if I am booed or hissed again, as I was at Hull?’
    ‘That will not happen. For one thing, Mrs Smith is not here to prattle her malice, and for another you know this play inside out.’
    ‘But my first benefit at Smock Alley was also a disaster, with hardly anyone in the house. And do you remember the riot?’
    ‘That was because your supporters loved you and thought you’d been unfairly treated. This audience will love you too.’
    ‘And at least the management at Drury Lane has allowed you to choose,’ said Mama.
    ‘But nobody will come to see me. Why would they bother?’
    ‘Stop talking yourself down, Dolly, the house will be a good one this time,’ Mama gently scolded. ‘Now go out there and have fun. Make them laugh as only you can.’
    But her optimism on this occasion was ill-founded. When I peeped through a crack in the curtain at the side of the stage it was clear the house was no more than half full. Sheridan had warned me, of course, that the fashionable did not turn out for newcomers, indeed for anyone very often, other than the great Sarah Siddons herself.
    Nevertheless, as the orchestra struck up the first notes, I drew several deep breaths to steady my nerves, and when I stepped out on stage there came again that rush of excitement. My heartbeat instantly settled, I stopped feeling sick and ceased even to be Dora Jordan. I