my feet in an instant; leaped upon Harlequin like a young tiger; tore
off his mask; buffeted him in the face, and soon shed more blood on the
stage than had been spilt upon it during a whole tragic campaign of
battles and murders.

As soon as Harlequin recovered from his surprise he returned my assault
with interest. I was nothing in his hands. I was game to be sure, for I
was a gentleman; but he had the clownish advantages of bone and muscle.
I felt as if I could have fought even unto the death; and I was likely
to do so; for he was, according to the vulgar phrase, "putting my head
into Chancery," when the gentle Columbine flew to my assistance. God
bless the women; they are always on the side of the weak and the
oppressed.

The battle now became general; the dramatis personae ranged on either
side. The manager interfered in vain. In vain were his spangled black
bonnet and towering white feathers seen whisking about, and nodding,
and bobbing, in the thickest of the fight. Warriors, ladies, priests,
satyrs, kings, queens, gods and goddesses, all joined pell-mell in the
fray. Never, since the conflict under the walls of Troy, had there been
such a chance medley warfare of combatants, human and divine. The
audience applauded, the ladies shrieked and fled from the theatre, and
a scene of discord ensued that baffles all description.

Nothing but the interference of the peace officers restored some degree
of order. The havoc, however, that had been made among dresses and
decorations put an end to all farther acting for that day. The battle
over, the next thing was to inquire why it was begun; a common question
among politicians, after a bloody and unprofitable war; and one not
always easy to be answered. It was soon traced to me, and my