Event Comment: FFlying Post, 1 March: On Thursday Night last, the
Village Opera was play'd the Fifth Time, but met with a most unaccountable Reception; however, tis presumed not from any Pique against the Author, but the Resentment of the town upon some later Proceedings. No sooner did poor
Colin appear upon the Stage, but his Arrival was usher'd in with a Serenade of Cat Calls, Penny-Trumpets, Clubs, Canes, Hoarse Voices, whistling in Keys, Hells, Fists; and Vollies of whole Oranges; however, the Players went on with uncommon intrepidity, and like the truly great Men, seem'd greater by opposition. The Audience call'd out for any other Play, Farce or Entertainment, but the
Peasants seem'd too intent upon what they were about, to give Ear to them. This so exasperated the Spectators, that they mustered up all the Artillery they could possibly lay hold and made such an Uproar, during the whole intended Entertainment, that it was scarce possible to hear a word the Actors said. As every Player came upon the Stage, they call'd upon him by his real, not fictitious Name, and Swore not a
Man of them would come to his Benefit. When
Mrs T@@@ appeared, they call'd out for a Quartern of Gin, to chear up her Spirits. The Word Constable being first mentioned in the Gallery, it ran round the House like Wild-fire; and immediately the general Cry was, No Constable, no Constable. At the Conclusion of the Play, a Fellow came upon the Stage, to put out the Lights with his long Pole, but a Gentle
man broke it in two, and another taking a Candle from one of the Sockets of the Sconces, his Example was immediately followed by several others, who soon clear'd them of their Lights; when a new kind of Shower compos'd of Candles fell think as Hail on the Stage