CHAPTER XV.

[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]

_Sir_ Richard Steele _succeeds_ Collier _in the

Theatre-Royal_. Lincoln's-Inn-Fields _House rebuilt_. _The

Patent restored. Eight Actors at once desert from the King's

Company. Why. A new Patent obtain'd by Sir_ Richard Steele,

_and assign'd in Shares to the menaging Actors of_ Drury-Lane.

_Of modern Pantomimes. The Rise of them. Vanity invincible and

asham'd. The_ Non-juror _acted_. _The Author not forgiven, and

rewarded for it._

Upon the Death of the Queen, Plays (as they always had been on the like

Occasions) were silenc'd for six Weeks. But this happening on the first

of _August_,[116] in the long Vacation of the Theatre, the Observance of

that Ceremony, which at another Juncture would have fallen like wet

Weather upon their Harvest, did them now no particular Damage. Their

License, however, being of course to be renewed, that Vacation gave the

Menagers Time to cast about for the better Alteration of it: And since

they knew the Pension of seven hundred a Year, which had been levied

upon them for _Collier_, must still be paid to somebody, they imagined

the Merit of a _Whig_ might now have as good a Chance for getting into

it, as that of a _Tory_ had for being continued in it: Having no

Obligations, therefore, to _Collier_, who had made the last Penny of

them, they apply'd themselves to Sir _Richard Steele_, who had

distinguished himself by his Zeal for the House of _Hanover_, and had

been expell'd the House of Commons for carrying it (as was judg'd at a

certain Crisis) into a Reproach of the Government. This we knew was his

Pretension to that Favour in which he now stood at Court: We knew, too,

the Obligations the Stage had to his Writings; there being scarce a

Comedian of Merit in our whole Company whom his _Tatlers_ had not made

better by his publick Recommendation of them. And many Days had our

House been particularly fill'd by the Influence and Credit of his Pen.

Obligations of this kind from a Gentleman with whom they all had the

Pleasure of a personal Intimacy, the Menagers thought could not be more

justly return'd than by shewing him some warm Instance of their Desire

to have him at the Head of them. We therefore beg'd him to use his

Interest for the Renewal of our License, and that he would do us the

Honour of getting our Names to stand with His in the same Commission.

This, we told him, would put it still farther into his Power of

supporting the Stage in that Reputation, to which his Lucubrations had

already so much contributed; and that therefore we thought no Man had

better Pretences to partake of its Success.[117]

Though it may be no Addition to the favourable Part of this Gentleman's

Character to say with what Pleasure he receiv'd this Mark of our

Inclination to him, yet my Vanity longs to tell you that it surpriz'd

him into an Acknowledgment that People who are shy of Obligations are

cautious of confessing. His Spirits took such a lively turn upon it,

that had we been all his own Sons, no unexpected Act of filial Duty

could have more endear'd us to him.

It must be observ'd, then, that as _Collier_ had no Share in any Part of

our Property, no Difficulties from that Quarter could obstruct this

Proposal. And the usual Time of our beginning to act for the Winter-Season

now drawing near, we press'd him not to lose any Time in his Solicitation

of this new License. Accordingly Sir _Richard_ apply'd himself to the Duke

of _Marlborough_, the Hero of his Heart, who, upon the first mention of

it, obtain'd it of his Majesty for Sir _Richard_ and the former Menagers

who were Actors. _Collier_ we heard no more of.[118]

The Court and Town being crowded very early in the Winter-Season, upon

the critical Turn of Affairs so much expected from the _Hanover_

Succession, the Theatre had its particular Share of that general

Blessing by a more than ordinary Concourse of Spectators.

About this Time the Patentee, having very near finish'd his House in

_Lincoln's-Inn Fields_, began to think of forming a new Company; and in

the mean time found it necessary to apply for Leave to employ them. By the

weak Defence he had always made against the several Attacks upon his

Interest and former Government of the Theatre, it might be a Question, if

his House had been ready in the Queen's Time, whether he would then have

had the Spirit to ask, or Interest enough to obtain Leave to use it: But

in the following Reign, as it did not appear he had done any thing to

forfeit the Right of his Patent, he prevail'd with Mr. _Craggs_ the

Younger (afterwards Secretary of State) to lay his Case before the King,

which he did in so effectual a manner that (as Mr. _Craggs_ himself told

me) his Majesty was pleas'd to say upon it, "That he remember'd when he

had been in _England_ before, in King _Charles_ his Time, there had been

two Theatres in _London_; and as the Patent seem'd to be a lawful Grant,

he saw no Reason why Two Play-houses might not be continued."[119]

The Suspension of the Patent being thus taken off, the younger Multitude

seem'd to call aloud for two Play-houses! Many desired another, from the

common Notion that _Two_ would always create Emulation in the Actors (an

Opinion which I have consider'd in a former Chapter). Others, too, were as

eager for them, from the natural Ill-will that follows the Fortunate or

Prosperous in any Undertaking. Of this low Malevolence we had, now and

then, had remarkable Instances; we had been forced to dismiss an Audience

of a hundred and fifty Pounds, from a Disturbance spirited up by obscure

People, who never gave any better Reason for it, than that it was their

Fancy to support the idle Complaint of one rival Actress against another,

in their several Pretensions to the chief Part in a new Tragedy. But as

this Tumult seem'd only to be the Wantonness of _English_ Liberty, I shall

not presume to lay any farther Censure upon it.[120]

Now, notwithstanding this publick Desire of reestablishing two Houses;

and though I have allow'd the former Actors greatly our Superiors; and

the Menagers I am speaking of not to have been without their private

Errors: Yet under all these Disadvantages, it is certain the Stage, for

twenty Years before this time, had never been in so flourishing a

Condition: And it was as evident to all sensible Spectators that this

Prosperity could be only owing to that better Order and closer Industry

now daily observ'd, and which had formerly been neglected by our

Predecessors. But that I may not impose upon the Reader a Merit which

was not generally allow'd us, I ought honestly to let him know, that

about this time the publick Papers, particularly _Mist_'s Journal, took

upon them very often to censure our Menagement, with the same Freedom

and Severity as if we had been so many Ministers of State: But so it

happen'd, that these unfortunate Reformers of the World, these

self-appointed _Censors_, hardly ever hit upon what was really wrong in

us; but taking up Facts upon Trust, or Hear-say, piled up many a pompous

Paragraph that they had ingeniously conceiv'd was sufficient to demolish

our Administration, or at least to make us very uneasy in it; which,

indeed, had so far its Effect, that my equally-injur'd Brethren, _Wilks_

and _Booth_, often complain'd to me of these disagreeable Aspersions,

and propos'd that some publick Answer might be made to them, which I

always oppos'd by, perhaps, too secure a Contempt of what such Writers

could do to hurt us; and my Reason for it was, that I knew but of one

way to silence Authors of that Stamp; which was, to grow insignificant

and good for nothing, and then we should hear no more of them: But while

we continued in the Prosperity of pleasing others, and were not

conscious of having deserv'd what they said of us, why should we gratify

the little Spleen of our Enemies by wincing at it,[121] or give them

fresh Opportunities to dine upon any Reply they might make to our

publickly taking Notice of them? And though Silence might in some Cases

be a sign of Guilt or Error confess'd, our Accusers were so low in their

Credit and Sense, that the Content we gave the Publick almost every Day

from the Stage ought to be our only Answer to them.

However (as I have observ'd) we made many Blots, which these unskilful

Gamesters never hit: But the Fidelity of an Historian cannot be excus'd

the Omission of any Truth which might make for the other Side of the

Question. I shall therefore confess a Fact, which, if a happy Accident

had not intervened, had brought our Affairs into a very tottering

Condition. This, too, is that Fact which in a former Chapter I promis'd

to set forth as a Sea-Mark of Danger to future Menagers in their

Theatrical Course of Government.[122]

When the new-built Theatre in _Lincoln's-Inn Fields_ was ready to be

open'd, seven or eight Actors in one Day deserted from us to the Service

of the Enemy,[123] which oblig'd us to postpone many of our best Plays

for want of some inferior Part in them which these Deserters had been

used to fill: But the Indulgence of the Royal Family, who then

frequently honour'd us by their Presence, was pleas'd to accept of

whatever could be hastily got ready for their Entertainment. And tho'

this critical good Fortune prevented, in some measure, our Audiences

falling so low as otherwise they might have done, yet it was not

sufficient to keep us in our former Prosperity: For that Year our

Profits amounted not to above a third Part of our usual Dividends; tho'

in the following Year we intirely recover'd them. The Chief of these

Deserters were _Keene_, _Bullock_, _Pack_,[124] _Leigh_, Son of the

famous _Tony Leigh_,[125] and others of less note. 'Tis true, they none

of them had more than a negative Merit, in being only able to do us more

Harm by their leaving us without Notice, than they could do us Good by

remaining with us: For though the best of them could not support a Play,

the worst of them by their Absence could maim it; as the Loss of the

least Pin in a Watch may obstruct its Motion. But to come to the true

Cause of their Desertion: After my having discover'd the (long unknown)

Occasion that drove _Dogget_ from the Stage before his settled

Inclination to leave it, it will be less incredible that these Actors,

upon the first Opportunity to relieve themselves, should all in one Day

have left us from the same Cause of Uneasiness. For, in a little time

after, upon not finding their Expectations answer'd in _Lincoln's-Inn

Fields_, some of them, who seem'd to answer for the rest, told me the

greatest Grievance they had in our Company was the shocking Temper of

_Wilks_, who, upon every, almost no Occasion, let loose the unlimited

Language of Passion upon them in such a manner as their Patience was

not longer able to support. This, indeed, was what we could not justify!

This was a Secret that might have made a wholesome Paragraph in a

critical News-Paper! But as it was our good Fortune that it came not to

the Ears of our Enemies, the Town was not entertain'd with their publick

Remarks upon it.[126]

After this new Theatre had enjoy'd that short Run of Favour which is apt

to follow Novelty, their Audiences began to flag: But whatever good

Opinion we had of our own Merit, we had not so good a one of the

Multitude as to depend too much upon the Delicacy of their Taste: We

knew, too, that this Company, being so much nearer to the City than we

were, would intercept many an honest Customer that might not know a good

Market from a bad one; and that the thinnest of their Audiences must be

always taking something from the Measure of our Profits. All these

Disadvantages, with many others, we were forced to lay before Sir

_Richard Steele_, and farther to remonstrate to him, that as he now

stood in _Collier_'s Place, his Pension of 700_l._ was liable to the

same Conditions that _Collier_ had receiv'd it upon; which were, that it

should be only payable during our being the only Company permitted to

act, but in case another should be set up against us, that then this

Pension was to be liquidated into an equal Share with us; and which we

now hoped he would be contented with. While we were offering to proceed,

Sir _Richard_ stopt us short by assuring us, that as he came among us by

our own Invitation, he should always think himself oblig'd to come into

any Measures for our Ease and Service: That to be a Burthen to our

Industry would be more disagreeable to him than it could be to us; and

as he had always taken a Delight in his Endeavours for our Prosperity,

he should be still ready on our own Terms to continue them. Every one

who knew Sir _Richard Steele_ in his Prosperity (before the Effects of

his Good-nature had brought him to Distresses) knew that this was his

manner of dealing with his Friends in Business: Another Instance of the

same nature will immediately fall in my way.

[Illustration: RICHARD STEELE.]

When we proposed to put this Agreement into Writing, he desired us not to

hurry ourselves; for that he was advised, upon the late Desertion of our

Actors, to get our License (which only subsisted during Pleasure) enlarg'd

into a more ample and durable Authority, and which he said he had Reason

to think would be more easily obtain'd, if we were willing that a Patent

for the same Purpose might be granted to him only, for his Life and three

Years after, which he would then assign over to us. This was a Prospect

beyond our Hopes; and what we had long wish'd for; for though I cannot

say we had ever Reason to grieve at the Personal Severities or Behaviour

of any one Lord-Chamberlain in my Time, yet the several Officers under

them who had not the Hearts of Noblemen, often treated us (to use

_Shakespear_'s Expression) with all the _Insolence_ of _Office_ that

narrow Minds are apt to be elated with; but a Patent, we knew, would free

us from so abject a State of Dependency. Accordingly, we desired Sir

_Richard_ to lose no time; he was immediately promised it: In the Interim,

we sounded the Inclination of the Actors remaining with us; who had all

Sense enough to know, that the Credit and Reputation we stood in with the

Town, could not but be a better Security for their Sallaries, than the

Promise of any other Stage put into Bonds could make good to them. In a

few Days after, Sir _Richard_ told us, that his Majesty being apprised

that others had a joint Power with him in the License, it was expected we

should, under our Hands, signify that his Petition for a Patent was

preferr'd by the Consent of us all. Such an Acknowledgment was immediately

sign'd, and the Patent thereupon pass'd the Great Seal; for which I

remember the Lord Chancellor _Cooper_, in Compliment to Sir _Richard_,

would receive no Fee.

We receiv'd the Patent _January 19, 1715_,[127] and (Sir _Richard_ being

obliged the next Morning to set out for _Burrowbridge_ in _Yorkshire_,

where he was soon after elected Member of Parliament) we were forced

that very Night to draw up in a hurry ('till our Counsel might more

adviseably perfect it) his Assignment to us of equal Shares in the

Patent, with farther Conditions of Partnership:[128] But here I ought to

take Shame to myself, and at the same time to give this second Instance

of the Equity and Honour of Sir _Richard_: For this Assignment (which I

had myself the hasty Penning of) was so worded, that it gave Sir

_Richard_ as equal a Title to our Property as it had given us to his

Authority in the Patent: But Sir _Richard_, notwithstanding, when he

return'd to Town, took no Advantage of the Mistake, and consented in our

second Agreement to pay us Twelve Hundred Pounds to be equally intitled

to our Property, which at his Death we were obliged to repay (as we

afterwards did) to his Executors; and which, in case any of us had died

before him, the Survivors were equally obliged to have paid to the

Executors of such deceased Person upon the same Account. But Sir

_Richard_'s Moderation with us was rewarded with the Reverse of

_Collier_'s Stiffness: _Collier_, by insisting on his Pension, lost

Three Hundred Pounds a Year; and Sir _Richard_, by his accepting a Share

in lieu of it, was, one Year with another, as much a Gainer.

The Grant of this Patent having assured us of a competent Term to be

relied on, we were now emboldened to lay out larger Sums in the

Decorations of our Plays:[129] Upon the Revival of _Dryden_'s _All for

Love_, the Habits of that Tragedy amounted to an Expence of near Six

Hundred Pounds; a Sum unheard of, for many Years before, on the like

Occasions.[130] But we thought such extraordinary Marks of our

Acknowledgment were due to the Favours which the Publick were now again

pouring in upon us. About this time we were so much in fashion, and

follow'd, that our Enemies (who they were it would not be fair to guess,

for we never knew them) made their Push of a good round Lye upon us, to

terrify those Auditors from our Support whom they could not mislead by

their private Arts or publick Invectives. A current Report that the

Walls and Roof of our House were liable to fall, had got such Ground in

the Town, that on a sudden we found our Audiences unusually decreased by

it: _Wilks_ was immediately for denouncing War and Vengeance on the

Author of this Falshood, and for offering a Reward to whoever could

discover him. But it was thought more necessary first to disprove the

Falshood, and then to pay what Compliments might be thought adviseable

to the Author. Accordingly an Order from the King was obtained, to have

our Tenement surveyed by Sir _Thomas Hewet_, then the proper Officer;

whose Report of its being in a safe and sound Condition, and sign'd by

him, was publish'd in every News-Paper.[131] This had so immediate an

Effect, that our Spectators, whose Apprehensions had lately kept them

absent, now made up our Losses by returning to us with a fresh

Inclination and in greater Numbers.

When it was first publickly known that the New Theatre would be open'd

against us; I cannot help going a little back to remember the Concern

that my Brother-Menagers express'd at what might be the Consequences of

it. They imagined that now all those who wish'd Ill to us, and

particularly a great Party who had been disobliged by our shutting them

out from behind our Scenes, even to the Refusal of their Money,[132]

would now exert themselves in any partial or extravagant Measures that

might either hurt us or support our Competitors: These, too, were some

of those farther Reasons which had discouraged them from running the

hazard of continuing to Sir _Richard Steele_ the same Pension which had

been paid to _Collier_. Upon all which I observed to them, that, for my

own Part, I had not the same Apprehensions; but that I foresaw as many

good as bad Consequences from two Houses: That tho' the Novelty might

possibly at first abate a little of our Profits; yet, if we slacken'd

not our Industry, that Loss would be amply balanced by an equal Increase

of our Ease and Quiet: That those turbulent Spirits which were always

molesting us, would now have other Employment: That the question'd Merit

of our Acting would now stand in a clearer Light when others were

faintly compared to us: That though Faults might be found with the best

Actors that ever were, yet the egregious Defects that would appear in

others would now be the effectual means to make our Superiority shine,

if we had any Pretence to it: And that what some People hoped might ruin

us, would in the end reduce them to give up the Dispute, and reconcile

them to those who could best entertain them.

In every Article of this Opinion they afterwards found I had not been

deceived; and the Truth of it may be so well remember'd by many living

Spectators, that it would be too frivolous and needless a Boast to give

it any farther Observation.

But in what I have said I would not be understood to be an Advocate for

two Play-houses: For we shall soon find that two Sets of Actors

tolerated in the same Place have constantly ended in the Corruption of

the Theatre; of which the auxiliary Entertainments that have so

barbarously supply'd the Defects of weak Action have, for some Years

past, been a flagrant Instance; it may not, therefore, be here improper

to shew how our childish Pantomimes first came to take so gross a

Possession of the Stage.

I have upon several occasions already observ'd, that when one Company is

too hard for another, the lower in Reputation has always been forced to

exhibit some new-fangled Foppery to draw the Multitude after them: Of

these Expedients, Singing and Dancing had formerly been the most

effectual;[133] but, at the Time I am speaking of, our _English_ Musick

had been so discountenanced since the Taste of _Italian_ Operas

prevail'd, that it was to no purpose to pretend to it.[134] Dancing

therefore was now the only Weight in the opposite Scale, and as the New

Theatre sometimes found their Account in it, it could not be safe for

us wholly to neglect it. To give even Dancing therefore some

Improvement, and to make it something more than Motion without Meaning,

the Fable of _Mars_ and _Venus_[135] was form'd into a connected

Presentation of Dances in Character, wherein the Passions were so

happily expressed, and the whole Story so intelligibly told by a mute

Narration of Gesture only, that even thinking Spectators allow'd it both

a pleasing and a rational Entertainment; though, at the same time, from

our Distrust of its Reception, we durst not venture to decorate it with

any extraordinary Expence of Scenes or Habits; but upon the Success of

this Attempt it was rightly concluded, that if a visible Expence in both

were added to something of the same Nature, it could not fail of drawing

the Town proportionably after it. From this original Hint then (but

every way unequal to it) sprung forth that Succession of monstrous

Medlies that have so long infested the Stage, and which arose upon one

another alternately, at both Houses outvying in Expence, like contending

Bribes on both sides at an Election, to secure a Majority of the

Multitude. But so it is, Truth may complain and Merit murmur with what

Justice it may, the Few will never be a Match for the Many, unless

Authority should think fit to interpose and put down these Poetical

Drams, these Gin-shops of the Stage, that intoxicate its Auditors and

dishonour their Understanding with a Levity for which I want a

Name.[136]

If I am ask'd (after my condemning these Fooleries myself) how I came to

assent or continue my Share of Expence to them? I have no better Excuse

for my Error than confessing it. I did it against my Conscience! and had

not Virtue enough to starve by opposing a Multitude that would have been

too hard for me.[137] Now let me ask an odd Question: Had _Harry the

Fourth_ of _France_ a better Excuse for changing his Religion?[138] I

was still, in my Heart, as much as he could be, on the side of Truth and

Sense, but with this difference, that I had their leave to quit them

when they could not support me: For what Equivalent could I have found

for my falling a Martyr to them? How far the Heroe or the Comedian was

in the wrong, let the Clergy and the Criticks decide. Necessity will be

as good a Plea for the one as the other. But let the Question go which

way it will, _Harry_ IV. has always been allow'd a great Man: And what I

want of his Grandeur, you see by the Inference, Nature has amply

supply'd to me in Vanity; a Pleasure which neither the Pertness of Wit

or the Gravity of Wisdom will ever persuade me to part with. And why is

there not as much Honesty in owning as in concealing it? For though to

hide it may be Wisdom, to be without it is impossible; and where is the

Merit of keeping a Secret which every Body is let into? To say we have

no Vanity, then, is shewing a great deal of it; as to say we _have_ a

great deal cannot be shewing so much: And tho' there may be Art in a

Man's accusing himself, even then it will be more pardonable than

Self-commendation. Do not we find that even good Actions have their

Share of it? that it is as inseparable from our Being as our Nakedness?

And though it may be equally decent to cover it, yet the wisest Man can

no more be without it, than the weakest can believe he was born in his

Cloaths. If then what we say of ourselves be true, and not prejudicial

to others, to be called vain upon it is no more a Reproach than to be

called a brown or a fair Man. Vanity is of all Complexions; 'tis the

growth of every Clime and Capacity; Authors of all Ages have had a

Tincture of it; and yet you read _Horace_, _Montaign_, and Sir _William

Temple_, with Pleasure. Nor am I sure, if it were curable by Precept,

that Mankind would be mended by it! Could Vanity be eradicated from our

Nature, I am afraid that the Reward of most human Virtues would not be

found in this World! And happy is he who has no greater Sin to answer

for in the next!

But what is all this to the Theatrical Follies I was talking of? Perhaps

not a great deal; but it is to my Purpose; for though I am an Historian,

I do not write to the Wise and Learned only; I hope to have Readers of no

more Judgment than some of my _quondam_ Auditors; and I am afraid they

will be as hardly contented with dry Matters of Fact, as with a plain

Play without Entertainments: This Rhapsody, therefore, has been thrown

in as a Dance between the Acts, to make up for the Dullness of what would

have been by itself only proper. But I now come to my Story again.

Notwithstanding, then, this our Compliance with the vulgar Taste, we

generally made use of these Pantomimes but as Crutches to our weakest

Plays: Nor were we so lost to all Sense of what was valuable as to

dishonour our best Authors in such bad Company: We had still a due

Respect to several select Plays that were able to be their own Support;

and in which we found our constant Account, without painting and

patching them out, like Prostitutes, with these Follies in fashion: If

therefore we were not so strictly chaste in the other part of our

Conduct, let the Error of it stand among the silly Consequences of Two

Stages. Could the Interest of both Companies have been united in one

only Theatre, I had been one of the Few that would have us'd my utmost

Endeavour of never admitting to the Stage any Spectacle that ought not

to have been seen there; the Errors of my own Plays, which I could not

see, excepted. And though probably the Majority of Spectators would not

have been so well pleas'd with a Theatre so regulated; yet Sense and

Reason cannot lose their intrinsick Value because the Giddy and the

Ignorant are blind and deaf, or numerous; and I cannot help saying, it

is a Reproach to a sensible People to let Folly so publickly govern

their Pleasures.

While I am making this grave Declaration of what I _would_ have done had

One only Stage been continued; to obtain an easier Belief of my

Sincerity I ought to put my Reader in mind of what I _did_ do, even

after Two Companies were again establish'd.

About this Time _Jacobitism_ had lately exerted itself by the most

unprovoked Rebellion that our Histories have handed down to us since the

_Norman_ Conquest:[139] I therefore thought that to set the Authors and

Principles of that desperate Folly in a fair Light, by allowing the

mistaken Consciences of some their best Excuse, and by making the artful

Pretenders to Conscience as ridiculous as they were ungratefully wicked,

was a Subject fit for the honest Satire of Comedy, and what might, if it

succeeded, do Honour to the Stage by shewing the valuable Use of

it.[140] And considering what Numbers at that time might come to it as

prejudic'd Spectators, it may be allow'd that the Undertaking was not

less hazardous than laudable.

To give Life, therefore, to this Design, I borrow'd the _Tartuffe_ of

_Moliere_, and turn'd him into a modern _Nonjuror_:[141] Upon the

Hypocrisy of the _French_ Character I ingrafted a stronger Wickedness,

that of an _English_ Popish Priest lurking under the Doctrine of our own

Church to raise his Fortune upon the Ruin of a worthy Gentleman, whom

his dissembled Sanctity had seduc'd into the treasonable Cause of a

_Roman Catholick_ Out-law. How this Design, in the Play, was executed, I

refer to the Readers of it; it cannot be mended by any critical Remarks

I can make in its favour: Let it speak for itself. All the Reason I had

to think it no bad Performance was, that it was acted eighteen Days

running,[142] and that the Party that were hurt by it (as I have been

told) have not been the smallest Number of my back Friends ever since.

But happy was it for this Play that the very Subject was its Protection;

a few Smiles of silent Contempt were the utmost Disgrace that on the

first Day of its Appearance it was thought safe to throw upon it; as the

Satire was chiefly employ'd on the Enemies of the Government, they were

not so hardy as to own themselves such by any higher Disapprobation or

Resentment. But as it was then probable I might write again, they knew

it would not be long before they might with more Security give a Loose

to their Spleen, and make up Accounts with me. And to do them Justice,

in every Play I afterwards produced they paid me the Balance to a

Tittle.[143] But to none was I more beholden than that celebrated Author

Mr. _Mist_, whose _Weekly Journal_,[144] for about fifteen Years

following, scarce ever fail'd of passing some of his Party Compliments

upon me: The State and the Stage were his frequent Parallels, and the

Minister and _Minheer Keiber_ the Menager were as constantly droll'd

upon: Now, for my own Part, though I could never persuade my Wit to have

an open Account with him (for as he had no Effects of his own, I did not

think myself oblig'd to answer his Bills;) notwithstanding, I will be so

charitable to his real _Manes_, and to the Ashes of his Paper, as to

mention one particular Civility he paid to my Memory, after he thought

he had ingeniously kill'd me. Soon after the _Nonjuror_ had receiv'd

the Favour of the Town, I read in one of his Journals the following

short Paragraph, _viz._ _Yesterday died Mr._ Colley Cibber, _late

Comedian of the Theatre-Royal, notorious for writing the_ Nonjuror. The

Compliment in the latter part I confess I did not dislike, because it

came from so impartial a Judge; and it really so happen'd that the

former part of it was very near being true; for I had that very Day just

crawled out, after having been some Weeks laid up by a Fever: However, I

saw no use in being thought to be thoroughly dead before my Time, and

therefore had a mind to see whether the Town cared to have me alive

again: So the Play of the _Orphan_ being to be acted that Day, I quietly

stole myself into the Part of the _Chaplain_, which I had not been seen

in for many Years before. The Surprize of the Audience at my unexpected

Appearance on the very Day I had been dead in the News, and the Paleness

of my Looks, seem'd to make it a Doubt whether I was not the Ghost of my

real Self departed: But when I spoke, their Wonder eas'd itself by an

Applause; which convinc'd me they were then satisfied that my Friend

_Mist_ had told a _Fib_ of me. Now, if simply to have shown myself in

broad Life, and about my Business, after he had _notoriously_ reported

me dead, can be called a Reply, it was the only one which his Paper

while alive ever drew from me. How far I may be vain, then, in supposing

that this Play brought me into the Disfavour of so many Wits[145] and

valiant Auditors as afterwards appear'd against me, let those who may

think it worth their Notice judge. In the mean time, 'till I can find a

better Excuse for their sometimes particular Treatment of me, I cannot

easily give up my Suspicion: And if I add a more remarkable Fact, that

afterwards confirm'd me in it, perhaps it may incline others to join

in my Opinion.

On the first Day of the _Provok'd Husband_, ten Years after the _Nonjuror_

had appear'd,[146] a powerful Party, not having the Fear of publick

Offence or private Injury before their Eyes, appear'd most impetuously

concern'd for the Demolition of it; in which they so far succeeded, that

for some Time I gave it up for lost; and to follow their Blows, in the

publick Papers of the next Day it was attack'd and triumph'd over as a

dead and damn'd Piece; a swinging Criticism was made upon it in general

invective Terms, for they disdain'd to trouble the World with Particulars;

their Sentence, it seems, was Proof enough of its deserving the Fate it

had met with. But this damn'd Play was, notwithstanding, acted

twenty-eight Nights together, and left off at a Receipt of upwards of a

hundred and forty Pounds; which happen'd to be more than in fifty Years

before could be then said of any one Play whatsoever.

Now, if such notable Behaviour could break out upon so successful a Play

(which too, upon the Share Sir _John Vanbrugh_ had in it, I will venture

to call a good one) what shall we impute it to? Why may not I plainly

say, it was not the Play, but Me, who had a Hand in it, they did not

like? And for what Reason? if they were not asham'd of it, why did not

they publish it? No! the Reason had publish'd itself, I was the Author

of the _Nonjuror_! But, perhaps, of all Authors, I ought not to make

this sort of Complaint, because I have Reason to think that that

particular Offence has made me more honourable Friends than Enemies; the

latter of which I am not unwilling should know (however unequal the

Merit may be to the Reward) that Part of the Bread I now eat was given

me for having writ the _Nonjuror_.[147]

And yet I cannot but lament, with many quiet Spectators, the helpless

Misfortune that has so many Years attended the Stage! That no Law has had

Force enough to give it absolute Protection! for 'till we can civilize its

Auditors, the Authors that write for it will seldom have a greater Call to

it than Necessity; and how unlikely is the Imagination of the Needy to

inform or delight the Many in Affluence? or how often does Necessity make

many unhappy Gentlemen turn Authors in spite of Nature?

What a Blessing, therefore, is it! what an enjoy'd Deliverance! after a

Wretch has been driven by Fortune to stand so many wanton Buffets of

unmanly Fierceness, to find himself at last quietly lifted above the

Reach of them!

But let not this Reflection fall upon my Auditors without Distinction;

for though Candour and Benevolence are silent Virtues, they are as

visible as the most vociferous Ill-nature; and I confess the Publick has

given me more frequently Reason to be thankful than to complain.

An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume 2 (of 2) Written by Himself. A New Edition with Notes and Supplement · 第 6 / 10 章