The decree of 1704 for keeping the stage clear does not appear to have been universally observed, for, on the opening of the first theatre in Covent Garden, in December 1732, I find it announced that, on account of the great demand for places, the pit and boxes were laid together at 5_s._, the galleries at 2_s._ and 1_s._, and to prevent the stage from being crowded, admission thereto was raised to half a guinea. In the former year, to appear at the theatre in a red coat and a laced hat, indicated a rural beau who was behind his time, and had not yet laid aside a fashion as old as the days of Great Nassau. Dress, however, was indispensable. Swift writes to Stella, on the 31st of August 1711, "Dilly and I walked to Kensington, to Lady Mountjoy, who invited us to dinner. He returned soon to go to the play, it being the last that will be acted for some time. He dresses himself like a beau, and no doubt makes a fine figure." No doubt that Dillon Ashe was dressed in his best that night, on which he went to Drury, and saw "Love's a Jest," with Pack in Sam Gaymood, and Mrs. Porter as Lady Single. As the government procured the passing of the Licensing Act less for the sake of morality than to save administration from the shafts of satire, so the public took it unkindly of them, but unreasonably revenged themselves on innocent authors. No secret was made of the determination of playgoers to damn the first piece that should be stigmatised with the license of the Lord Chamberlain. That piece happened to be the "Nest of Plays," by Hildebrand Jacob, represented at Covent Garden, in January 1738, which was damned accordingly. But the public sense of wrong was not yet appeased. The "Parricide" subsequently was condemned, solely because it was a licensed piece. "That my enemies," says William Shirley, the author, "came resolved to execute before trial, may be gathered from their behaviour ere the play began, for at five o'clock they engaged and overthrew the candles in the music-room, and called a council of war, whether they should attack the harpsichord or not; but to your good fortune," he adds, addressing Rich, "it was carried in the negative. Their expelling ladies from the pit, and sending for wine to drink, were likewise strong indications of their arbitrary and violent dispositions." It is to be observed, however, of a few condemned pieces of this period, that the authors rather abused their opportunity of ascribing their ill fortune solely to the unpopularity of the Licensing Act.