On the 10th of June, 1811, an historical play, called "The Royal Oak," was produced at the Haymarket. To this drama, also, I composed the music. Elliston was the representative of the merry monarch, and it was an excellent piece of acting. Connected with my recollections of this play, is an anecdote relative to my deceased friend, Lady Hamilton, so characteristic of that talented, but unfortunate woman, and at the same time so demonstrative of her warmth of feeling, that I cannot suffer it to pass unrecorded. I had composed a plaintive ballad in the second act, for a Miss Wheatley (formerly a pupil of Attwood's), who possessed a fine deep contre alto voice: the poetry was descriptive of a warrior, who had fallen in recent battle. Upon the fifth representation of the new play, Lady Hamilton, with a party of friends, occupied one of the stage-boxes, appearing all gaiety and animation. Scarcely, however, had this ballad commenced, when she became tremulous and agitated; and at its conclusion, upon the encore being loudly demanded, she exclaimed, "For God's sake, remove me I cannot bear it." Her terrified friends withdrew her from the box, whence she was immediately conveyed home in a fainting condition.