But to the point:  in this reforming age
    We have intent to civilise the stage. 
    Our women are defective, and so sized
    You’d think they were some of the guard disguised;
    For, to speak truth, men act, that are between
    Forty and fifty, wenches of fifteen;
    With bone so large and nerve so incompliant. 
    When you call Desdemona, enter giant.

The prologue concludes with a promise, which certainly was not kept, that the drama should be purged of all offensive matter: 

    And when we’ve put all things in this fair way,
    Barebones himself may come to see a play.

In the epilogue the spectators were asked:  “How do you like her?”—­especial appeal being made to those among the audience of the gentler sex: 

    But, ladies, what think you?  For if you tax
    Her freedom with dishonour to your sex,
    She means to act no more, and this shall be
    No other play but her own tragedy. 
    She will submit to none but your commands,
    And take commission only from your hands.

The ladies, no doubt, applauded sufficiently, and “women-actors” from that time forward became more and more secure of their position in the theatre.  At the same time it would seem that there lingered in the minds of many a certain prejudice against them, and that some apprehension concerning the reception they might obtain from the audience often occupied the managers.  A prologue to the second part of Davenant’s “Siege of Rhodes,” acted in April, 1662, demonstrates that the matter had still to be dealt with cautiously.  Indulgence is besought for the bashful fears of the actresses, and their shrinking from the judgment and observation of the wits and critics is much dwelt upon.

It is worthy of note that the leading actors who took part in the representation of “Othello” at the Vere Street Theatre had all in early life been apprentices to older players, and accustomed to personate the heroines of the stage.  Thus Burt, the Othello of the cast, had served as a boy under the actors Shanke and Beeston at the Blackfriars and Cockpit Theatres respectively.  Mohun, the Iago, had been his playfellow at this time; so that when Burt appeared as Clariana in Shirley’s tragedy of “Love’s Cruelty,” Mohun represented Bellamonte in the same work.  During the Civil War Mohun had drawn his sword for the king, acquiring the rank of major, and acquitting himself as a soldier with much distinction.  He was celebrated by Lord Rochester as the AEsopus of the stage; Nat Lee delighted in his acting, exclaiming:  “O Mohun, Mohun, thou little man of mettle, if I should write a hundred plays, I’d write one for thy mouth!” And King Charles ventured to pun upon his name as badly as even a king might when he said of some representation:  “Mohun (pronounce Moon) shone like a sun; Hart like the moon!” Charles Hart, the Cassio of the Vere