Not long after childhood his acting career suddenly went kapoof.

And he rattled, thumped, brandished his thunderbox, yelled, shouted, raved, roared, stamped, and danced corrobory like any black fellow; and then he touched a spring in the thunderbox, and out popped turnip-ghosts and magic-lanthorns and pasteboard bogies and spring-heeled Jacks and sallaballas […]

He calls the bishop Grey-beard Goff, And makes his power a mere scoff.

The masts of British frigates and U.S. warships blackwashed the piers at the Embarcadero.