Lamb greatly desired to be present. He had always loved the actors,
especially the old actors, from his youth; and this was the last of the
Romans. Accordingly Lamb and his sister went to the Drury Lane; but there
being no room in the ordinary parts of the house (boxes or pit), Munden
obtained places for his two visitors in the orchestra, close to the stage.
He saw them carefully ushered in, and well posted; then acted with his
usual vigor, and no doubt enjoyed the plaudits wrung from a thousand
hands. Afterwards, in the interval between the comedy and the farce, he
was seen to appear cautiously, diffidently, at the low door of the
orchestra (where the musicians enter), and beckon to his friends, who then
perceived that he was armed with a mighty pot of porter, for their
refreshment. Lamb, grateful for the generous liquid, drank heartily, but
not ostentatiously, and returned the pot of beer to Munden, who had waited
to remove it from fastidious eyes. He then retreated into the farce; and
then he retired--forever.

After Munden's retirement Lamb almost entirely forsook the theatre; and
his habits became more solitary. He had not relinquished society, nor
professedly narrowed the circle of his friends. But insensibly his
visitors became fewer in number, and came less frequently. Some had died;
some had grown old; some had increased occupation to care for. His old
Wednesday evenings had ceased, and he had placed several miles of road
between London (the residence of their families) and his own home. The
weight of years, indeed, had its effect in pressing down his strength and
buoyancy; his spirit no longer possessed its old power of rebound. Even
the care of housekeeping (not very onerous, one would suppose) troubled
Charles and his sister so much, that they determined to abandon it. This
occurred in 1829. Then they became boarders and lodgers, with an old
person (T. W.), who was their next-door neighbor at Enfield; and of him
Lamb has given an elaborate description. T. W., his new landlord or