A better illustration of stage costume is afforded us in the story of (I think) Bensley. He had to play Henry VI. in ‘Richard the Third.’ After the monarch’s death in the early part of the play, he had to appear for a moment or two as his own ghost, in the fifth act. The spirits were at that time exhibited _en buste_, by a trap. Now our Henry was invited out to supper, and being anxious to get there early, and knowing that little more than his shoulders would be seen by the public, he retained his black velvet vest and bugles; but, discarding the lower part of his stage costume, he drew on a jaunty pair of new, tight, nankeen pantaloons, to be as far dressed for his supper company as he could. When he stood on the trap, he cautioned the men who turned the crank not to raise him as high as usual, and of course they promised to obey. But a wicked low comedian was at hand, whose love of mischief prevailed over his judgement, and he suddenly applied himself with such goodwill to the winch that he ran King Henry up right to a level with the stage; and moreover gave his majesty such a jerk, that he was forced to step from the trap on to the boards, to save himself from falling. The sight of the old Lancastrian monarch in a costume of two such different periods,—mediæval above, all nankeen and novelty below,—was destructive of all decorum both before the stage and upon it. The audience emphatically “split their sides;” and as for the tyrant in the tent, he sat bolt upright, and burst into such an insane roar, that the real Richard could not have looked more frantically hysterical had the deceased Henry actually so visited him in the nankeen spirit.