The Killigrew family was widely extended in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It was probably a member of the Middlesex branch of the family, one Thomas Killigrew, who founded Drury Lane Theatre, and opened it on April 8th, 1663, under a patent granted to him by Charles II, whom he had served in exile. He was (like other members of his family, Lady Jane, to wit) “rather greedy for offices and spoil.” But according to one authority his main idea of opening the theatre and entering into management was the fact that he had himself written plays. Perhaps he is to be looked upon as the first of actor-managers. It is interesting to note the prices in those early days of the theatre. The first of Killigrew’s productions was a comedy called “The Humorous Lieutenant,” and the prices in the theatre were 4_s._ for boxes, 2_s._ 6_d._ for the pit, 1_s._ 6_d._ for middle gallery (dress circle), and 1_s._ for gallery. “Sometimes the house was worth £50, and often less, or not more than half,” we are told. One of the most famous players under Thomas Killigrew’s management was “Sweet Nell of Old Drury,” of whose acting “in a comical part” Pepys has left a complimentary opinion, although he thought Killigrew’s first production “a silly play.” It was this Thomas Killigrew who was a noted wit, and whose portrait by Van Dyck hangs in the Royal collection at Windsor. A writer in _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ tells an interesting story of Killigrew’s introduction to Louis XIV. The King took him into a picture gallery, and upon pointing out a celebrated picture of the Crucifixion, inquired of Killigrew whether he knew who the principal figures were or the incident it represented. “No, sire,” replied Killigrew. “Then,” said Louis, “Monsieur Killigrew, I will tell you who they are. The figure in the centre is that of our Saviour on the cross, that on the right of him is the Pope, and that on the left myself.” After a pause Killigrew replied, “I humbly thank your Majesty for the information you have given me, for, although I have often heard that our Saviour was crucified between two thieves, yet I never knew who they were till now.” The reply of the King to this witty, though caustic and uncourtierlike, speech is unhappily not recorded. The sarcasm was rendered more mordant from the fact that both the King and the Pope were, at the time, engaged in persecuting and robbing the former’s Protestant subjects. Another story of a much more tragic nature is connected with Falmouth, and relates to an old couple who lived towards the latter end of the sixteenth century, a few miles out of the town on the way to Penryn. They had two children--a son and a daughter; and the former--partly owing, so the story goes, to his parents falling upon evil times--ran away to sea, and of him they heard nothing for many years.