The bull-fights once over, the execution of the Priest Lopez forgotten, and the probability of our soon leaving Madrid taking place, were not things to be passed over lightly by the ladies of that city; and no matter what may be said or written of their being “a grave people,” I saw, during my sojourn amongst them, no symptoms of “gravity,” except when they thought we were about to leave their capital. It was palpably evident that something should be done to drive away the gloom that had in a great measure already begun to take a fast hold of our friends; and the officers of the Light Division, aided by some of the other regiments in the garrison, resolved to treat the inhabitants with a specimen of their dramatic powers. The play selected was the _Revenge_, and “Zanga” was well personated by Captain Kent of the Rifles; but whether it was that the other characters were ill cast, or that the tragedy was too dull for the Spaniards to relish, it is a positive fact that, long before the second act was ended, the audience were heartily tired of the play; and, notwithstanding the fine acting of Kent, the play would have never been allowed to proceed had not the performers been British officers, and the object the relief of the poor of the capital. The _Mayor of Garrett_ followed, and this amusing farce was a set-off against the _Revenge_, and put the audience quite at ease; for from the moment “Zanga” (or _El Preto_, as they styled him) appeared, there was one universal buzz of disapprobation. It is not possible for me to say why they were so averse to the play; it might have been their dislike to the Moors; but be this as it may, I would advise my friends in the army never to try the same play before a Madrid audience—that is, which is a hundred to one, should they ever have the same opportunity we had. This was the first and last play ever attempted by us to be got up at Madrid.