DRURY LANE, AND THE TWO THEATRES IN DRURY LANE AND COVENT GARDEN.
Craven House -- Donne and his vision -- Lord Craven and the
Queen of Bohemia -- Nell Gwynn -- Drury Lane Theatre -- Its
antiquity, different eras, and rebuildings -- The principal
theatre of Dryden, Wycherley, Farquhar, Steele, Garrick, and
Sheridan -- Old Drury in the time of Charles II. -- A visit to
it -- Pepys and his theatrical gossip, with notes -- Hart and
Mohun -- Goodman -- Nell Gwynn -- Dramatic taste of that age --
Booth -- Artificial tragedy -- Wilks and Cibber -- Bullock and
Penkethman -- A Colonel enamoured of Cibber's wig -- Mrs.
Oldfield -- Her singular position in society -- Not the Flavia
of the Tatler -- Pope's account of her last words probably not
true -- Declamatory acting -- Lively account of Garrick and
Quin by Mr. Cumberland -- Improvement of stage costume -- King
-- Mrs. Pritchard -- Mrs. Clive -- Mrs. Woffington -- Covent
Garden -- Barry -- Contradictory characters of him by Davies
and Churchill -- Macklin -- Woodward -- Pantomime -- English
taste in music -- Cooke -- Rise of actors and actresses in
social rank -- Improvement of the audience -- Dr. Johnston at
the theatre -- Churchill a great pit critic -- His Rosciad --
His picture of Mossop -- Mrs. Jordan and Mr. Suett -- Early
recollections of a play-goer.
Drury Lane takes its name from "the habitation of the great family of
the Druries," built, "I believe," says Pennant, "by Sir William Drury,
knight of the garter, a most able commander in the Irish wars, who
unfortunately fell in a duel with Sir John Burroughs, in a foolish
quarrel about precedency. Sir Robert, his son, was a great patron of
Dr. Donne, and assigned to him apartments in his house. I cannot,
learn into whose hands it passed afterwards. During the time of the
fatal discontents of the favourite, Essex, it was the place where his
imprudent advisers resolved on such counsels as terminated in the
destruction of him and his adherents."[247]
Drury House stood at the corner of Drury Lane and Wych Street, upon
the ground now included in Craven Buildings in the one thoroughfare,
and the Olympic Pavilion in the other.
Pennant proceeds to say, that it was occupied in the next century by
"the heroic William Lord Craven, afterwards Earl Craven," who rebuilt
it in the form standing in his time. He describes it as "a large brick
pile,"--a public-house with the sign of the Queen of Bohemia,--a head
which still mystifies people in some parts of the country. The remains
were taken down in 1809, and the Olympic Pavilion built on part of the
site. But the public-house was only a portion of it.
[Illustration: CRAVEN HOUSE.]
Who would suppose, in going by the place now, that it was once the
habitation of wit and elegance, of a lord and a queen, and of more
than one "romance of real life?" Yet the passenger acquainted with the
facts can never fail to be impressed by them, especially by the
romantic history of Donne. This master of profound fancies (whom
Dryden pronounced "the greatest wit, though not the best poet," of our
nation) had in his youth led a gay imprudent life, which left him
poor. He became secretary to Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, and fell in
love with his lordship's niece, then residing in the house, daughter
to a Sir George Moor or More, who, though Donne was of an ancient
family, was very angry, and took the young lady away into the country.
The step, however, was too late; for, the passion being mutual, a
private marriage had taken place. The upshot was, that Sir George
would have nothing to say to the young couple, and that they fell into
great distress. After a time, Sir Robert Drury, a man of large
fortune, who possessed the mansion above described, invited Donne and
his wife to live with him, and this too in a spirit that enabled all
parties to be the better for it. But for this, and the curious story
connected with it, we shall have recourse to the pages of our angling
friend Walton, who was a good fellow enough when he was not "handling
a worm as if he loved him."
"Sir Robert Drury," says Walton, "a gentleman of a very noble
estate, and a more liberal mind, assigned him and his wife an
useful apartment in his own large house in Drury Lane, and not
only rent free, but was also a cherisher of his studies, and
such a friend as sympathised with him and his, in all their joy
and sorrows.
"At this time of Mr. Donne's and his wife's living in Sir
Robert's house, the Lord Hay was, by King James, sent upon a
glorious embassy to the then French King, Henry IV., and Sir
Robert put on a sudden resolution to accompany him to the
French Court, and to be present at his audience there. And Sir
Robert put on a sudden resolution to solicit Mr. Donne to be
his companion in that journey. And this desire was suddenly
made known to his wife, who was then with child, and otherwise
under so dangerous a habit of body as to her health, that she
professed an unwillingness to allow him any absence from her;
saying, 'her divining soul boded her some ill in his absence,'
and, therefore, desired him not to leave her. This made Mr.
Donne lay aside all thoughts of his journey, and really to
resolve against it. But Sir Robert became restless in his
persuasions for it, and Mr. Donne was so generous as to think
he had sold his liberty when he received so many charitable
kindnesses from him, and told his wife so; who did, therefore,
with an unwilling-willingness, give a faint consent to the
journey, which was proposed to be but for two months; for about
that time they determined their return. Within a few days after
this resolve, the ambassador, Sir Robert, and Mr. Donne, left
London; and were the twelfth day got all safe to Paris. Two
days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone in
that room, in which Sir Robert, and he, and some other friends
had dined together. To this place Sir Robert returned within
half an hour; and as he left, so he found Mr. Donne alone; but
in such an ecstacy and so altered in his looks, as amazed Sir
Robert to behold him; insomuch that he earnestly desired Mr.
Donne to declare what had befallen him in the short time of his
absence. To which Mr. Donne was not able to make a present
answer; but, after a long and perplexed pause, did at last say,
'I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw you: I have seen my
dear wife pass twice by me in this room, with her hair hanging
about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms: this I have
seen since I saw you.' To which Sir Robert replied, 'Sure, sir,
you have slept since I saw you; and this is the result of some
melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now
awake.' To which Mr. Donne's reply was, 'I cannot be surer that
I now live, than that I have not slept since I saw you; and am
as sure, that at her second appearing she stopped and looked me
in the face, and vanished.' Rest and sleep had not altered Mr.
Donne's opinion the next day; for he then affirmed this vision
with a more deliberate, and so confirmed a confidence, that he
inclined Sir Robert to a faint belief that the vision was true.
It is truly said, that desire and doubt have no rest; and it
proved so with Sir Robert; for he immediately sent a servant to
Drewry House, with a charge to hasten back, and bring him
word, whether Mrs. Donne were alive; and, if alive, in what
condition she was in as to her health. The twelfth day the
messenger returned with this account:--That he found and left
Mrs. Donne very sad, and sick in her bed; and that, after a
long and dangerous labour, she had been delivered of a dead
child. And, upon examination, the abortion proved to be the
same day, and about the very hour, that Mr. Donne affirmed he
saw her pass by him in his chamber.
"This is a relation," continues Walton, "that will beget some
wonder, and it well may; for most of our world are at present
possessed with an opinion, that visions and miracles are
ceased. And, though it is most certain, that two lutes being
both strung and tuned to an equal pitch, and then one played
upon, the other that is not touched, being laid upon a table at
a fit distance will--like an echo to a trumpet--warble a faint
audible harmony in answer to the same tune; yet many will not
believe that there is any such thing as the sympathy of souls;
and I am well pleased that every reader do enjoy his own
opinion. But if the unbelieving will not allow the believing
reader of this story a liberty to believe that it may be true,
then I wish him to consider, that many wise men have believed
that the ghost of Julius Cæsar did appear to Brutus, and that
both St. Austin, and Monica his mother, had visions in order to
his conversion. And though these, and many others--too many to
name--have but the authority of human story, yet the
_incredible_ reader may find in the sacred story, that Samuel,
&c."[248]
We may here break off with the observation of Mr. Chalmers, that "the
whole may be safely left to the judgment of the reader."[249] Walton
says he had not this story from Donne himself, but from a "Person of
Honour," who "knew more of the secrets of his heart than any person
then living," and who related it "with such circumstance and
asseveration," that not to say anything of his hearer's belief, Walton
did "verily believe," that the gentleman "himself believed it."
The biographer then presents us with some verses which "were given by
Mr. Donne to his wife at the time he then parted from her," and which
he "begs leave to tell us" that he has heard some critics, learned
both in languages and poetry, say, that "none of the Greek or Latin
poets did ever equal."
These lines are full of the wit that Dryden speaks of, horribly
misused to obscure the most beautiful feelings. Some of them are among
the passages quoted in Dr. Johnson to illustrate the faults of the
metaphysical school. Mr. Chalmers and others have thought it probable,
that it was upon this occasion Donne wrote a set of verses, which he
addressed to his wife, on her proposing to accompany him abroad as a
page; but as the writer speaks of going to Italy, which appears to
have been out of the question in this two months' visit to Paris, they
most probably belong to some other journey or intended journey, the
period of which is unknown. The numbers of these verses are sometimes
rugged, but they are full of as much nature and real feeling, as
sincerity ever put into a true passion. There is an awfulness in the
commencing adjuration:--
"By our first strange and fatal interview,
By all desires which thereof did ensue;
By our long striving hopes; by that remorse
Which my words' masculine persuasive force
Begot in thee, and by the memory
Of hurts which spies and rivals threaten me,
I calmly beg: but by thy father's wrath,
By all pains which want and divorcement hath,
I conjure thee, and all the oaths which I
And thou have sworn to seal joint constancy,
I here unswear, and overswear them thus:
Thou shalt not love by means so dangerous.
Temper, O fair Love! love's impetuous rage;
Be my true mistress, not my feigned page.
I'll go; and by thy kind leave, leave behind
Thee, only worthy to nurse in my mind
Thirst to come back. O! if thou die before,
My soul from other lands to thee shall soar:
Thy (else almighty) beauty cannot move
Rage from the seas, nor thy love teach them love,
Nor tame wild Boreas' harshness: thou hast read
How roughly he in pieces shiverèd
Fair Orithea, whom he swore he loved.
Fall ill or good, 'tis madness to have proved
Dangers unurged: feed on this flattery,
That absent lovers one in the other be;
Dissemble nothing, not a boy, nor change
Thy body's habit, nor mind; be not strange
To thyself only: all will spy in thy face
A blushing womanly discovering grace.
* * * * *
When I am gone dream me some happiness,
Nor let thy looks our long-hid love confess;
Nor praise nor dispraise me, nor bless nor curse
Openly love's force; nor in bed fright thy nurse
With midnight's startings, crying out, Oh! oh!
Nurse! oh, my love is slain! I saw him go
O'er the white Alps alone; I saw him, I,
Assailed, taken, fight, stabbed, bleed, fall, and die.
Augur me better chance; except dread Jove
Think it enough for me to have had thy love."
Drury House, when rebuilt by Lord Craven, took the name of Craven
House. To this abode, at the restoration of Charles II., his lordship
brought his royal mistress, the Queen of Bohemia, to whose interest he
had devoted his fortunes, and to whom he is supposed to have been
secretly wedded. She was daughter to James I., and, with the reluctant
consent of her parents (particularly of her mother, who used to twit
her with the title of Goody Palsgrave), was married to Frederick, the
Elector Palatine, for whom the Protestant interest in Germany erected
Bohemia into a kingdom, in the vain hope, with the assistance of his
father-in-law, of competing with the Catholic Emperor. Frederic lost
everything, and his widow became a dependent on the bounty of this
Lord Craven, a nobleman of wealthy commercial stock, who had fought in
her husband's cause, and helped to bring up her children. It is
through her that the family of Brunswick succeeded to the throne of
this kingdom, as the next Protestant heirs of James I. James's
daughter, being a woman of lively manners, a queen, and a Protestant
leader, excited great interest in her time, and received more than the
usual portion of flattery from the romantic. Donne wrote an
epithalamium on her marriage, in which are those preposterous lines
beginning--
"Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there."
Sir Henry Wotton had permission to call her his "royal mistress,"
which he was as proud of as if he had been a knight of old. And when
she lost her Bohemian kingdom, it was said that she retained a better
one, for that she was still the "Queen of Hearts." Sir Henry wrote
upon her his elegant verses beginning--
"You meaner beauties of the night,"
in which he gives a new turn to the commonplaces of stars and roses,
and calls her
"Th'eclipse and glory of her kind."
It is doubtful, nevertheless, whether she was ever handsome. None of
the Stuarts appear to have been so, with the exception of Henrietta,
Duchess of Orleans, who resembled, perhaps, her mother. Pepys, who saw
the Queen of Bohemia at the Restoration, "thought her a very
debonaire, but plain lady." This, it is true, was near her death; but
Pepys was given to admire, and royalty did not diminish the
inclination. Had her charms ever been as great as reported, he would
have discovered the remains of them. It has been beautifully said by
Drayton, that
"Even in the aged'st face, where beauty once did dwell,
And nature, in the least, but seemèd to excel,
Time cannot make such waste, but something will appear
To show some little tract of delicacy there."
Pepys saw the queen afterwards two or three times at the play, and
does not record any alteration of his opinion. Her Majesty did not
survive the Restoration many months. She quitted Craven House for
Leicester House (afterwards Norfolk House, in the Strand,) seemingly
for no other purpose than to die there; which she did in February
1661-2. Whether Lord Craven attended her at this period does not
appear; but she left him her books, pictures, and papers. Sometimes he
accompanied her to the play. She and her husband, King Frederick,
appear to have been lively, good-humoured persons, a little vain of
the royalty which proved such a misfortune to them. The queen had the
better sense, though it seems to have been almost as much over-rated
as her beauty. But all the Stuarts were more or less clever, with the
exception of James II.
The author of a _History and Antiquities of the Deanery of Craven in
Yorkshire_, gives it as a tradition, that Lord Craven's father, a
lord-mayor, was born of such poor parents that they sent him when a
boy by a common carrier to London, where he became a mercer or draper.
His son was a distinguished officer under Gustavus Adolphus, was
ennobled, attached himself to the King and Queen of Bohemia, and is
supposed, as we have seen, to have married the king's widow. He was
her junior by twelve years. He long resided in Craven House, became
Colonel of the Coldstream Regiment of Foot Guards, and was famed for
his bustling activity. He so constantly made his appearance at a fire,
that his horse is said to have "smelt one as soon as it happened."
Pepys, during a riot against houses of ill-fame (probably the houses
in Whetstone Park, as well as in Moorfields, for he talks of going to
Lincoln's Inn Fields to see the 'prentices,) describes his lordship as
riding up and down the fields, "like a madman," giving orders to the
soldiery. It was probably in allusion to this military vivacity that
Lord Dorset says, in his ballad on a mistress,--
"The people's hearts leap, wherever she comes,
And beat day and night, like my Lord Craven's drums."
When there was a talk in his old age of giving his regiment to
somebody else, Craven said, that "if they took away his regiment they
had as good take away his life, since he had nothing else to divert
himself with." The next king, however, William III., gave it to
General Talmash; yet the old lord is said to have gone on, busy to the
last. He died in 1697, aged nearly 89 years. He was intimate with
Evelyn, Ray, and other naturalists, and delighted in gardening. The
garden of Craven House ran in the direction of the present Drury Lane;
so that where there is now a bustle of a very different sort, we may
fancy the old soldier busying himself with his flower-beds, and Mr.
Evelyn discoursing upon the blessings of peace and privacy.[250]
The only other personage of celebrity whom we know of as living in
Drury Lane, is one of another sort; to wit, Nell Gwynn. The ubiquitous
Pepys speaks of his seeing her there on a May-morning.
"May 1st, 1667. To Westminster, in the way meeting many
milk-maids with garlands upon their pails, dancing with a
fiddler before them; and saw pretty Nelly standing at her
lodging's door in Drury Lane in her smock sleeves and boddice,
looking upon one. She seemed a mighty pretty creature."
Lodgings in this quarter, though Nell lived there, must have been of
more decent reputation than they became afterwards. It is curious that
the old English word Drury, or Druerie, should be applicable to the
fame we allude to. It has more or less deserved it for a long period,
though we believe the purlieus rather warrant it now, than the lane
itself. Pope and Gay speak of it. Pope describes the lane also as a
place of residence for poor authors:--
"'Keep your piece nine years.'
'Nine years!' cries he, who high in Drury Lane,
Lull'd by soft zephyrs through the broken pane,
Rhymes ere he wakes, and prints before term ends,
Obliged by hunger and request of friends."
The existence of a theatre in Drury Lane is as old as the time of
Shakspeare. It was then called the Phoenix; was "a private," or more
select house, like that of Blackfriars; and had been a cock-pit, by
which name it was also designated. Phoenix generally implies that a
place has been destroyed by fire, a common fate with theatres; but the
first occasion on which we hear of the present one is the destruction
of it by a Puritan mob. This took place in the year 1617, in the time
of James; and was doubtless caused by the same motives that led to the
demolition of certain other houses, which it was thought to resemble
in fame. In Howe's Continuation of Stowe, it was called a "new
play-house;" so that it had lately been either built or rebuilt. This
theatre stood opposite the Castle tavern. There is still in existence
a passage, called Cockpit Alley, into Great Wild Street; and there is
a Phoenix Alley, leading from Long Acre into Hart Street.
The Phoenix was soon rebuilt: and the performances continued till
1648, when they were again stopped by the Puritans who then swayed
England, and who put an end to playhouses for some time. In the
interval, some of the most admired of our old dramas were produced
there, such as Marlowe's _Jew of Malta_; Heywood's _Woman killed with
Kindness_; _The Witch of Edmonton_, by Rowley, Decker, and Ford;
Webster's _White Devil_, or _Vittoria Colombona_, Massinger's _New Way
to Pay Old Debts_, and indeed many others.[251] It does not appear
that Shakspeare or his immediate friends had any pieces performed
there. He was a performer in other theatres; and the pressure of
court, as well as city, lay almost exclusively in their direction,
till the growth of the western part of the metropolis divided it. The
Phoenix known in his time was probably nearly as select a house as
the Blackfriars. The company had the title of Queen's Servants
(James's Queen), and the servants of the Lady Elizabeth (Queen of
Bohemia).
A few years before the Restoration, Davenant, supported by some of the
less scrupulous authorities, ventured to smuggle back something like
the old entertainments, under the pretence of accompanying them with
music; a trick understood in our times where a license is to be
encroached upon. In 1656, he removed with them from Aldersgate Street
to this house; and, after the fluctuation of different companies
hither and thither, the Cockpit finally resumed its rank as a royal
theatre, under the direction of the famous Killigrew, whose set of
players were called the King's company, as those under Sir William
Davenant had the title of the Duke's. Killigrew, dissatisfied with
the old theatre at the Cockpit, built a new one nearly on the site of
the present, and opened it in 1663. This may be called the parent of
Drury Lane theatre as it now stands. It was burnt in 1671-2, rebuilt
by Sir Christopher Wren, and opened in 1674, with a prologue, from the
pen of Dryden, from which time it stood till the year 1741. There had
been some alterations in the structure of this theatre, which are said
to have hurt the effect contemplated by Sir Christopher Wren, and
perhaps assisted its destruction; for seventy years is no great age
for a public building. Yet old Drury, as it was called, was said to
have died of a "gradual decline." It was rebuilt, and became Old Drury
the second; underwent the usual fate of theatres in the year 1809; and
was succeeded by the one now standing.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE FRONT OF DRURY LANE THEATRE, ERECTED BY
GARRICK.]
It is customary to divide the eras of theatres according to their
management; but, as managers become of little consequence to
posterity, we shall confine ourselves in this as in other respects to
names, with which posterity is familiar. In Shakspeare's time, Drury
Lane appears to have been celebrated for the best productions of the
second-rate order of dramatists, a set of men who would have been
first in any other age. We have little to say of the particulars of
Drury Lane at this period, no memorandums having come down to us as
they did afterwards. All we can imagine is, that, the Phoenix being
much out of the way, with fields and country roads in the interval
between court and city, and the performances taking place in the day
time, the company probably consisted of the richer orders, the poorer
being occupied in their labours. The court and the rich citizens went
on horseback; the Duke of Buckingham in his newly-invented sedan. In
the time of the Puritans we may fancy the visitors stealing in, as
they would into a gambling-house.
The era of the Restoration, or second era of the Stuarts, is that of
the popularity of Ben Jonson's and Beaumont and Fletcher's plays,
compared with Shakspeare's, though Davenant tried hard to revive him;
of the plays of Dryden, Lee, and Otway; and finally of the rise of
comedy, strictly so called, in those of Wycherly, Congreve, Farquhar,
and Vanbrugh. All these writers had to do with Drury Lane Theatre,
some of them almost exclusively. Nineteen out of Dryden's twenty-seven
plays were produced there; seven out of Lee's eleven; all the good
ones of Wycherly (that is to say, all except the 'Gentleman
Dancing-Master'); two of Congreve's (the 'Old Bachelor' and 'Double
Dealer'), and all Farquhar's, except the 'Beaux' Stratagem.' Otway's
best pieces came out at the Duke's Theatre; and Vanbrugh's in the
Haymarket.[252] This may be called the second era of Drury Lane, or
rather the second and third; the former, which is Dryden's and Lee's,
having for its principal performers Hart, Mohun, Lacy, Goodman, Nell
Gwynn, and others; the latter, which was that of Congreve and
Farquhar, presenting us with Cibber, Wilks, Booth, Mrs. Barry, and
Mrs. Bracegirdle. The two, taken together, began with the Restoration
and ended with George II.
Sir Richard Steele and the sentimental comedy came in at the close of
the third era, and may be said to constitute the fourth; which, in his
person, did not last long. Steele, admirable as an essayist, and
occasionally as humorous as any dramatist in a scene or two, was
hampered in his plays by the new moral ambition now coming up, which
induced him to show, not so much what people are, as his notions of
what they ought to be. This has never been held a legitimate business
of the stage, which, in fact, is nothing else than what its favourite
metaphor declares it, a glass of men and manners, in which they are
to see themselves as they actually exist. It is the essence of the wit
and dialogue of society brought into a focus. Steele was manager of
Drury Lane Theatre, and made as bad a one as improvidence and animal
spirits could produce.
The sentimental comedy continued into the next or fifth Drury Lane
era, which was that of Garrick, famous for his great reputation as an
actor, and for his triumphant revival of Shakspeare's plays, which
have increased in popularity ever since. Not that he revived them in
the strictest sense of the word; for the attempt was making when he
came to town; but he hastened and exalted the success of it.
The last era before the present one was that of Sheridan, who, though
he began with Covent Garden, produced four out of his seven pieces at
this theatre; where he showed himself a far better dramatist, and a
still worse manager than Steele.
We shall now endeavour to possess our readers with such a sense of
these different periods, as may enable them to "live o'er each scene,"
not indeed of the plays, but of the general epochs of Old Drury; to go
into the green-room with Hart and Nell Gwyn; to see Mrs. Oldfield swim
on the stage as Lady Betty Modish; to revive the electrical shock of
Garrick's leap upon it, as the lively Lothario;--in short, to be his
grandfather and great-grandfather before him, and make one of the
successive generations of play-goers, now in his peruke _à la Charles
II._, and now in his Ramillie wig, or the bobs of Hogarth. Did we
introduce him to all this ourselves, we should speak with less
confidence; but we have a succession of play-goers for his
acquaintance, who shall make him doubt whether he really is or is not
his own ancestor, so surely shall they place him beside them in the
pit.
And first, for the immortal and most play-going Pepys. To the society
of this jolliest of government officers, we shall consign our reader
and ourselves during the reign of Charles II.; and if we are not all
three equally intimate with old Drury at that time, there is no faith
in good company. By old Drury, we understand both the theatres; the
Cockpit or Phoenix and the new one built by Killigrew, which took
the title of "King's Theatre." There was a cockpit at Whitehall, or
court theatre, to which Pepys occasionally alludes; but after trying
in vain to draw a line between such of his memorandums as might be
retained and omitted, we here give up the task as undesirable, the
whole harmonizing in one mass of theatrical gossip, and making us
acquainted collaterally, even with what he is not speaking of. We have
not, indeed, retained everything, but we have almost.
We now, therefore, pass Drury House, proceed up the lane by my Lord
Craven's garden, and turn into Russell Street amongst a throng of
cavaliers in flowing locks, and ladies with curls _à la Valliere_.
Some of them are in masks, but others have not put theirs on. We shall
see them masquing as the house grows full. It is early in the
afternoon. There press a crowd of gallants, who have already got
enough wine. Here, as fast as the lumbering coaches of that period can
do it, dashes up to the door my lord Duke of Buckingham, bringing with
him Buckhurst and Sedley. There comes a greater, though at that time a
humbler man, to wit, John Dryden, in a coat of plain drugget, which by
and by his fame converted into black velvet. He is somewhat short and
stout, with a roundish dimpled face and a sparkling eye; and, if
scandal says true, by his side is "Madam" Reeves, a beautiful actress;
for the ladies of the stage were so entitled at that time. Horses and
coaches throng the place, with here and there a sedan; and, by the
pulling off of hats, we find that the king and his brother James have
arrived. The former nods to his people as if he anticipated their
mutual enjoyment of the play; the latter affects a graciousness to
match, but does not do it very well. As soon as the king passes in,
there is a squeeze and a scuffle; and some blood is drawn, and more
oaths uttered, from which we hasten to escape. Another scuffle is
silenced on the king's entrance, which also makes the gods quiet;
otherwise, at no period were they so loud. The house is not very
large, nor very well appointed. Most of the ladies masque themselves
in the pit and boxes, and all parties prepare for a play that shall
render it proper for the remainder to do so. The king applauds a new
French tune played by the musicians. Gallants, not very sober, are
bowing on all sides of us to ladies not very nice; or talking to the
orange girls, who are ranged in front of the pit with their backs to
the stage. We hear criticisms on the last new piece, on the latest
panegyric, libel, or new mode. Our friend Pepys listens and looks
everywhere, tells all who is who, or asks it; and his neighbours think
him a most agreeable fat little gentleman. The curtain rises: enter
Mistress Marshall, a pretty woman, and speaks a prologue which makes
all the ladies hurry on their masks, and convulses the house with
laughter. Mr. Pepys "do own" that he cannot help laughing too, and
calls the actress "a merry jade;" "but, lord!" he says, "to see the
difference of the times, and but two years gone." And then he utters
something between a sigh and a chuckle, at the recollection of his
Presbyterian breeding, compared with the jollity of his expectations.
But let us hear our friend's memorandums:--
"29th (September 1662). To the King's Theatre, where we saw
'Midsummer's Night's Dream,' which I had never seen before, nor
shall ever again, for it is the most insipid, ridiculous play
that ever I saw in my life. [The gods certainly had not made
Pepys poetical, except on the substantial side of things.]
"5th (January 1662-3). To the Cockpit, where we saw
'Claracilla,' a poor play, done by the King's house; but
neither the king nor queen were there, but only the duke and
duchess.
"23d (February, 1662-3). We took coach and to court, and there
we saw 'The Wilde Gallant,' performed by the King's house, but
it was ill acted. The king did not seem pleased at all, the
whole play, nor anybody else. My Lady Castlemaine was all worth
seeing to-night, and little Stewart. [This is Miss, or as the
designation then was, Mrs. Stewart, afterwards Duchess of
Richmond. 'The Wild Gallant' was Dryden's first play, and was
patronised by Lady Castlemaine, afterwards not less notorious
as Duchess of Cleveland. Miss Stewart and she were rival
beauties.]
"1st (February, 1663-4). To the King's Theatre, and there saw
the 'Indian Queen' (by Sir Robert Howard and Dryden); which
indeed is a most pleasant show, and beyond my expectation the
play good, but spoiled with the rhyme, which breaks the sense.
But above my expectation most, the eldest Marshall did do her
part most excellently well as I have heard a woman in my life;
but her voice is not so sweet as Ianthe's: but, however, we
come home mightily contented.
"1st (January, 1664). To the King's house, and saw 'The Silent
Woman' (Ben Jonson's); but methought not so well done or so
good a play as I formerly thought it to be. Before the play was
done, it fell such a storm of hayle, that we in the middle of
the pit were fain to rise, and all the house in a disorder.
"2nd (August, 1664). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
'Bartholomew Fayre' (Ben Jonson's), which do still please me;
and is, as it is acted, the best comedy in the world, I
believe. I chanced to sit by Tom Killigrew, who tells me that
he is setting up a nursery; that is, is going to build a house
in Moorfields, wherein we will have common plays acted. But
four operas it shall have in the year, to act six weeks at a
time: where we shall have the best scenes and machines, the
best musique, and everything as magnificent as in Christendome,
and to that end hath sent for voices and painters, and other
persons from Italy.
"4th (August, 1664). To play at the King's house, 'The Rivall
Ladies' (Dryden's), a very innocent and most pretty witty play.
I was much pleased with it, and it being given me, I look upon
it as no breach of my oath. [Pepys means that he had made a vow
not to spend money on theatres, but that he was now treated to
a play.] Here we hear that Clun, one of their best actors, was,
the last night, going out of town after he had acted the
Alchymist (wherein was one of his best parts that he acts), to
his country house, set upon and murdered; one of the rogues
taken, an Irish fellow. It seems most cruelly butchered and
bound. The house will have a great miss of him. [Clun's body
was found at Kentish Town in a ditch. Pepys went to see the
place.]
"11th (October, 1664). Luellin tells me what an obscene loose
play this 'Parson's Wedding' is (by Tom Killigrew), that is
acted by nothing but women at the King's house.
"14th (January, 1664-5). To the King's house, there to see
'Vulpone,' a most excellent play (Ben Jonson's); the best, I
think, I ever saw, and well acted.
"19th (March, 1666). After dinner we walked to the King's
playhouse, all in dirt, they being altering of the stage to
make it wider. But God knows when they will begin to act again;
but my business here was to see the inside of the stage, and
all the tiring-rooms and machines; and, indeed, it was a sight
worthy seeing. But to see their clothes, and the various sorts,
and what a mixture of things there was; here a wooden leg,
there a ruff, here a hobby-horse, there a crown, would make a
man split himself to see with laughing; and particularly Lacy's
wardrobe and Shotrell's. But then again to think how fine they
show on the stage by candlelight, and how poor things they are
to look at too near hand, is not pleasant at all. The machines
are fine, and the paintings very pretty.
"7th (December, 1666). To the King's playhouse, where two acts
were almost done when I came in; and there I sat with my cloak
about my face, and saw the remainder of 'The Mayd's Tragedy;' a
good play, and well acted, especially by the younger Marshall,
who is become a pretty good actor; and is the first play I have
seen in either of the houses, since before the great plague,
they having acted now about fourteen days publickly. But I was
in mighty pain, lest I should be seen by anybody to be at the
play. [The plague seems to have made it an indecorum to resume
visits to the theatre very speedily. Pepys had been educated
among the Commonwealth-men, for whom he never seems to have got
rid of a respect. The contrast aggravated his festivity.]
"8th (December, 1666). To the King's playhouse, and there did
see a good part of 'The English Monsieur' (by James Howard),
which is a mighty pretty play, very witty and pleasant. And the
women do very well; but above all, little Nelly. [Nell Gwynn,
not long entered upon the stage.]
"27th (December, 1666). By coach to the King's playhouse, and
there saw 'The Scornful Lady' (Beaumont and Fletcher's), well
acted; Doll Common doing Abigail most excellently, and Knipp
the widow very well (and will be an excellent actor, I think).
In other parts the play not so well done as need be by the old
actors.
"3rd (January, 1666-7). Alone to the King's house, and there
saw 'The Custome of the Country' (Beaumont and Fletcher's), the
second time of its being acted, wherein Knipp does the widow
well; but of all the plays that ever I did see, the worst,
having neither plot, language nor anything on the earth that is
acceptable; only Knipp sings a song admirably. [Mistress Knipp
was a particular acquaintance of our friend's.]
"23rd (January, 1666-7). To the King's house, and there saw the
'Humourous Lieutenant' (Beaumont and Fletcher's), a silly play,
I think; only the spirit in it that grows very tall, and then
sinks again to nothing, having two heads breeding upon one, and
then Knipp's singing did please us. Here in a box above we
spied Mrs. Pierse; and going out they called us; and so we
staid for them; and Knipp took us all in and brought us to
Nelly (Nell Gwynn), a most pretty woman, who acted the great
part of Coelia to-day very fine, and did it pretty well: I
kissed her, and so did my wife; and a mighty pretty soul she
is. We also saw Mrs. Ball, which is my little Roman-nose black
girl, that is mighty pretty; she is usually called Betty. Knipp
made us stay in the box, and see the dancing preparatory to
to-morrow for the 'Goblins,' a play of Suckling's, not acted
these twenty years; which was pretty.
"5th (February, 1666-7). To the King's house to see 'The
Chances' (Beaumont and Fletcher's). A good play I find it, and
the actors most good in it. And pretty to hear Knipp sing in
the play very properly, 'All night I weepe;' and sung it
admirably. The whole play pleases me well: and most of all, the
sight of many fine ladies; among others, my lady Castlemaine
and Mrs. Middleton: the latter of the two hath also a very
excellent face and body, I think. And so home in the dark over
the ruins with a link. [The ruins are those of the city,
occasioned by the fire. Mr. Pepys lived in Creed Lane, where
the Navy Office then was, in which he had an appointment.]
"18th (February, 1666-7). To the King's house, to 'The Mayd's
Tragedy' (Beaumont and Fletcher's); but vexed all the while
with two talking ladies and Sir Charles Sedley; yet pleased to
hear the discourse, he being a stranger. And one of the ladies
would and did sit with her mask on all the play, and being
exceedingly witty as ever I heard a woman, did talk most
pleasantly with him; but was, I believe, a virtuous woman and
of quality. He would fain know who she was, but she would not
tell; yet did give him many pleasant hints of her knowledge of
him, by that means setting his brains at work to find out who
she was, and did give him leave to use all means to find out
who she was, but pulling off her mask. He was mighty witty, and
she also making sport with him mighty inoffensively, that more
pleasant rencontre I never heard. But by that means lost the
pleasure of the play wholly, to which now and then Sir Charles
Sedley's exceptions against both words and pronouncing were
very pretty. [This is the famous wit and man of pleasure. We
have him before us, as if we were present, together with a
curious specimen of the manners of these times. The pit, though
subject to violent scuffles, greatly occasioned by the wearing
of swords, seems to have contained as good company as the opera
pit does now.]
"2nd (March, 1666-7). After dinner with my wife to the King's
house, to see 'The Mayden Queen,' a new play of Dryden's,
mighty commended for the regularity of it, and the strain and
wit: and the truth is, there is a comical part, played by Nell,
which is Florimell, that I never can hope to see the like done
again by man or woman. The King and Duke of York were at the
play. But so great performance of a comical part was never, I
believe, in the world before as Nell do this, both as a mad
girl, then most and best of all when she comes in like a young
gallante; and hath the motions and carriage of a spark the most
that ever I saw any man have. It makes me, I confess, admire
her.
"25th (March, 1666-7). To the King's playhouse, and by and by
comes Mr. Lowther and his wife and mine, and into a box,
forsooth, neither of them being dressed, which I was almost
ashamed of. Sir W. Pen and I in the pit, and here saw the
'Mayden Queen' again; which, indeed, the more I see the more I
like, and is an excellent play, and so done by Nell her merry
part, as cannot be better done in nature.
"9th (April, 1667). To the King's house, and there saw the
'Taming of the Shrew,' which hath some very good pieces in it,
but generally is but a mean play; and the best part 'Sawny,'
done by Lacy; and hath not half its life, by reason of the
words, I suppose, not being understood, at least by me. [This
was one of the _rifacimentos_ of Shakspeare, by which he was to
be rendered palatable.]
"15th (April, 1667). To the King's house, by chance, where a
new play: so full as I never saw it; I forced to stand all the
while close to the very door till I took cold, and many people
went away for want of room. The King and Queene and Duke of
York and Duchesse there, and all the court, and Sir W.
Coventry. The play called 'The Change of Crownes;' a play of
Ned Howard's, the best that I ever saw at that house, being a
great play and serious; only Lacy did act the country gentleman
come up to court with all the imaginable wit and plainness
about the selling of places, and doing everything for money.
The play took very much.
"16th (April, 1667). Knipp tells me the King was so angry at
the liberty taken by Lacy's part to abuse him to his face, that
he commanded they should act no more, till Moone (Mohun) went
and got leave for them to act again, but not in this play. The
King mighty angry; and it was bitter indeed, but very fine and
witty. I never was more taken with a play than I am with this
'Silent Woman' (Ben Johnson's) as old as it is, and as often as
I have seen it. [Ned Howard, the author of 'The Change of
Crownes,' was one of the sons of the Earl of Berkshire, and
though of a family who helped to bring in the King, was
probably connected with the Presbyterians, and disgusted, like
many of the royalists on that side, by the disappointments they
had experienced in church and state. Dryden, who married one of
his sisters, was of a Presbyterian stock. Ned, however, who
afterwards became the butt of the wits, was not very nice, and
might have 'committed himself,' as the modern phrase is, in his
mode of conducting his satire].
"20th (April, 1667). Met Mr. Rolt, who tells me the reason of
no play to-day at the King's house--that Lacy had been
committed to the porter's lodge, for his acting his part in the
late new play; and being thence released to come to the King's
house, he there met with Ned Howard, the poet of the play, who
congratulated his release; upon which Lacy cursed him, as that
it was the fault of his nonsensical play that was the cause of
his ill-usage. Mr. Howard did give him some reply, to which
Lacy answered him that he was more a fool than a poet; upon
which Howard did give him a blow on the face with his glove;
on which Lacy, having a cane in his hand, did give him a blow
over the pate. Here Rolt and others, that discoursed of it in
the pit, did wonder that Howard did not run him through, he
being too mean a fellow to fight with. But Howard did not do
anything but complain to the King; so the whole house is
silenced: and the gentry seem to rejoice much at it, the house
being become too insolent.
"1st (May, 1667). Thence away to the King's playhouse, and saw
'Love in a Maze:' but a sorry play; only Lacy's clown's part,
which he did most admirably indeed; and I am glad to find the
rogue at liberty again. Here was but little, and that ordinary
company. We sat at the upper bench, next the boxes; and I find
it do pretty well, and have the advantage of seeing and hearing
the great people, which may be pleasant when there is good
store.
"15th (August, 1667). And so we went to the King's house, and
there saw 'The Merry Wives of Windsor;' which did not please me
at all, in no part of it.
"17th (August, 1667). To the King's playhouse, where the house
extraordinary full; and there the King and Duke of York to see
the new play, 'Queene Elizabeth's Troubles, and the History of
Eighty-eight.' I confess I have sucked in so much of the sad
story of Queene Elizabeth from my cradle, that I was ready to
weep for her sometimes; but the play is the most ridiculous
that sure ever came upon stage, and, indeed, is merely a show,
only shows the true garb of the Queene in those days, just as
we see Queene Mary and Queene Elizabeth painted; but the play
is merely a puppet play, acted by living puppets. Neither the
design nor language better; and one stands by and tells us the
meaning of things: only I was pleased to see Knipp dance among
the milkmaids, and to hear her sing a song to Queene Elizabeth,
and to see her come out in her nighte-gown with no lockes on,
but her bare face, and hair only tied up in a knot behind;
which is the comeliest dress that ever I saw her in to her
advantage.
"22nd (August, 1667). With my lord Brouncker and his mistress
to the King's playhouse, and there saw 'The Indian Emperour;'
where I find Nell come again, which I am glad of; but was most
infinitely displeased with her being put to act the Emperour's
daughter, which is a great and serious part, which she does
most basely.
"14th (September, 1667). To the King's playhouse, to see 'The
Northerne Castle, (quære _Lasse_, by Richard Brome?) which I
think I never did see before. Knipp acted in it, and did her
part very extraordinary well; but the play is but a mean sorry
play.
"----, my wife, and Mercer, and I, away to the King's
playhouse, to see 'The Scornful Lady' (Beaumont and
Fletcher's), but it being now three o'clock, there was not one
soul in the pit; whereupon, for shame, we could not go in; but
against our wills, went all to see 'Tu Quoque' again (by John
Cooke), where there was pretty store of company. Here we saw
Madame Morland, who is grown mighty fat, but is very comely.
Thence to the King's house, upon a wager of mine with my wife,
that there would be no acting there to-day, there being no
company: so I went in and found a pretty good company there,
and saw their dance at the end of the play. [There is a
confusion in the memorandum under this date.]
"20th (September, 1667). By coach to the King's playhouse, and
there saw 'The Mad Couple' (by Richard Brome), my wife having
been at the same play with Jane in the 18_d._ seat.
"25th (September, 1667). I to the King's playhouse, my eyes
being so bad since last night's straining of them, that I am
hardly able to see, besides the pain that I have in them. The
play was a new play; and infinitely full; the King and all the
court almost there. It is 'The Storme,' a play of Fletcher's;
which is but so-so, methinks; only there is a most admirable
dance at the end, of the ladies, in a military manner, which
indeed did please me mightily.
"5th (October 1667.) To the King's house; and there going in
met with Knipp, and she took us up into the tireing-rooms; and
to the women's shift, where Nell was dressing herself, and was
all unready, and is very pretty, prettier than I thought. And
into the scene-room, and there sat down, and she gave us fruit;
and here I read the questions to Knipp, while she answered me,
through all her part of 'Flora's Figarys,' which was acted
to-day. But, lord! to see how they were both painted, would
make a man mad, and did make me loath them, and what base
company of men comes among them, and how lewdly they talk. And
how poor the men are in clothes, and yet what a show they make
on the stage by candle-light, is very observable. But to see
how Nell cursed, for having so few people in the pit, was
strange; the other house carrying away all the people at the
new play, and is said now-a-days to have generally most
company, as having better players. By and by into the pit, and
there saw the play, which is pretty good.
"19th (October 1667). Full of my desire of seeing my Lord
Orrery's new play this afternoon at the King's house, 'The
Black Prince,' the first time it is acted; where, though we
came by two o'clock, yet there was no room in the pit, but were
forced to go into one of the upper boxes at 4s. a piece, which
is the first time I ever sat in a box in my life. And in the
same box came by and by, behind me, my Lord Barkely and his
lady; but I did not turn my face to them to be known, so that I
was excused from giving them my seat. And this pleasure I had,
that from this place the scenes do appear very fine indeed, and
much better than in the pit. The house infinite full, and the
King and Duke of York there. The whole house was mightily
pleased all along till the reading of a letter, which was so
long and so unnecessary, that they frequently began to laugh,
and to hiss twenty times, that had it not been for the King's
being there, they had certainly hissed it off the stage.
"23d (October 1667). To the King's playhouse, and saw 'The
Black Prince;' which is now mightily bettered by that long
letter being printed, and so delivered to everybody at their
going in, and some short reference made to it in the play.
[This is in the style of what Buckingham called "insinuating
the plot into the boxes."]
"1st (November 1667). To the King's playhouse, and there saw a
silly play and an old one, 'The Taming of the Shrew.'
"2d (November 1667). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
'Henry the Fourth;' and, contrary to expectation, was pleased
in nothing more than in Cartwright's speaking of Falstaffe's
speech about 'What is honour?' The house full of
parliament-men, it being holyday with them: and it was
observable how a gentleman of good habit sitting just before
us, eating of some fruit in the midst of play, did drop down
as dead, being choked; but with much ado Orange Moll did thrust
her finger down his throat, and brought him to life again.
"26th (December 1667). With my wife to the King's playhouse,
and there saw 'The Surprizall' by Sir Robert Howard, brother of
Ned; which did not please me to-day, the actors not pleasing
me; and especially Nell's acting of a serious part which she
spoils.
"28th (December 1667). To the King's house, and there saw 'The
Mad Couple,' which is but an ordinary play; but only Nell's and
Hart's mad parts are most excellent done, but especially hers:
which makes it a miracle to me to think how ill she do any
serious part, as, the other day, just like a fool or
changeling; and, in a mad part, do beyond all imitation almost.
It pleased us mightily to see the natural affection of a poor
woman, the mother of one of the children brought on the stage;
the child crying, she by force got upon the stage, and took up
her child, and carried it away off the stage from Hart. Many
fine faces here to-day.
"7th (January 1667-8). To the Nursery [qy. in Barbican, for
children performers?], but the house did not act to-day; and so
I to the other two playhouses, into the pit to gaze up and
down, and there did, by this means, for nothing, see an act in
'The Schoole of Compliments' at the Duke of York's house, and
'Henry the Fourth' at the King's house; but not liking either
of the plays, I took my coach again, and home. [It would here
seem, that a man who did not choose to pay for a _seat_, might
witness a play for nothing.]
"11th (January 1667-8). To the King's house, to see 'The
Wild-Goose Chase' (Beaumont and Fletcher's). In this play I met
with nothing extraordinary at all, but very dull inventions and
designs. Knipp came and sat by us, and her talk pleased me a
little, she telling me how Miss Davies is for certain going
away from the Duke's house, the King being in love with her;
and a house is taken for her, and furnishing; and she hath a
ring given her already worth 600_l._: that the King did send
several times for Nelly, and she was with him; and I am sorry
for it, and can hope for no good to the state from having a
prince so devoted to his pleasure. She told me also of a play
shortly coming upon the stage, of Sir Charles Sedley's, which,
she thinks, will be called 'The Wandering Lady's,' a comedy
that she thinks will be most pleasant; and also another play
called 'The Duke of Lorane;' besides 'Cataline,' which she
thinks, for want of the clothes which the King promised them,
will not be acted for a good while.
"20th (February 1667-8). Dined, and by one o'clock to the
King's house; a new play, 'The Duke of Lerma,' of Sir Robert
Howard's, where the King and court was; and Knipp and Nell
spoke the prologue most excellently, especially Knipp, who
spoke beyond any creature I ever heard. The play designed to
reproach our King with his mistresses, that I was troubled for
it, and expected it should be interrupted; but it ended all
well; which salved me.
"27th (February 1667-8.) With my wife to the King's house, to
see 'The Virgin Martyr' by (Massinger), the first time it hath
been acted a great while: and it is mighty pleasant; not that
the play is worth much, but it is finely acted by Beck
Marshall. But that which did please me beyond anything in the
world, was the wind-musique when the angel comes down; which is
so sweet that it ravished me, and, indeed, in a word, did wrap
up my soul so that it made me really sick, just as I have
formerly been when in love with my wife; that neither then, nor
all the evening going home, and at home, I was able to think of
anything, but remained all night transported, so as I could not
believe that ever any musique hath that real command over the
soul of a man, as this did upon me; and makes me resolve to
practise wind-musique, and to make my wife do the like.
[Pepys's use of the word "sick," and his resolution to make his
wife practise the hautboy, are very ludicrous. His love of
music, however, is genuine. He was an amateur composer. On the
23d Feb. 1666, he has the following memorandum: "Comes Mrs.
Knipp to see my wife, and I spent all the night talking with
this baggage, and teaching her my song of 'Beauty retire,'
which she sings and makes go most rarely, and a very fine song
it seems to be."]
"6th (March 1667-8.) After dinner to the King's house, and
there saw part of the 'Discontented Colonell' (Sir John
Suckling's 'Brennoralt').
"7th (April 1668). To the King's house, and there saw 'The
English Monsieur,' (sitting for privacy sake in an upper box):
the play hath much mirth in it, as to that particular humour.
After the play done, I down to Knipp, and did stay her
undressing herself; and there saw the several players, men and
women, go by; and pretty to see how strange they are all, one
to another, after the play is done. Here I hear Sir W. Davenant
is just now dead, and so, who will succeed him in the
mastership of the house is not yet known. The eldest Davenport
is, it seems, gone from this house to be kept by somebody;
which I am glad of, she being a very bad actor. Mrs. Knipp
tells me that my Lady Castlemaine is mighty in love with Hart
of their house, and he is much with her in private, and she
goes to him and do give him many presents; and that the thing
is most certain, and Beck Marshall only privy to it, and the
means of bringing them together: which is a very odd thing; and
by this means she is even with the King's love to Mrs. Davies.
"28th (April 1668). To the King's house, and there did see
'Love in a Maze,' (the author is not mentioned in Baker);
wherein very good mirth of Lacy the clown, and Wintershell, the
country-knight, his master.
"1st (May 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw the
'Surprizall;' and a disorder in the pit by its raining in from
the cupola at top.
"7th (May 1668). To the King's house; where going in for Knipp,
the play being done, I did see Beck Marshall come dressed off
of the stage, and look mighty fine, and pretty and noble; and
also Nell in her boy's clothes mighty pretty. But lord! their
confidence, and how many men do hover about them as soon as
they come off the stage, and how confident they are in their
talk. Here was also Haynes, the incomparable dancer of the
King's house.
"16th (May 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw the
best part of 'The Sea Voyage' (Beaumont and Fletcher), where
Knipp did her part of sorrow very well.
"18th (May 1668). It being almost twelve o'clock, or little
more, to the King's playhouse, where the doors were not then
open; but presently they did open, and we in, and find many
people already come in by private ways into the pit, it being
the first day of Sir Charles Sedley's new play so long
expected 'The Mulberry Garden,' of whom, being so reputed a
wit, all the world do expect great matters. I having sat here a
while and eat nothing to-day, did slip out, getting a boy to
keep my place; and to the Rose Tavern (Will's, in Russell
Street), and there got half a breast of mutton off the spit,
and dined all alone. And so to the playhouse again, where the
King and Queene by and by come, and all the court, and the
house infinitely full. But the play, when it come, though there
was here and there a pretty saying, and that not very many
neither, yet the whole of the play had nothing extraordinary in
it at all, neither of language nor design; insomuch that the
King I did not see laugh nor pleased from the beginning to the
end, nor the company; insomuch that I have not been less
pleased at a new play in my life, I think.
"30th (May 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
'Philaster;' where it is pretty to see how I could remember
almost all along, ever since I was a boy, Arethusa, the part
which I was to have acted at Sir Robert Cooke's; and it was
very pleasant to me, but more to think what a ridiculous thing
it would have been for me to have acted a beautiful woman.
"22nd (June 1668). To the King's playhouse, and saw an act or
two of the new play, 'Evening Love' again (Dryden's) but like
it not.
"11th (July 1668). To the King's playhouse, to see an old play
of Shirley's, called 'Hyde Parke,' the first day acted; where
horses are brought upon the stage; but it is but a very
moderate play, only an excellent epilogue spoken by Beck
Marshall.
"31st (July 1668). To the King's house, to see the first day of
Lacy's 'Monsieur Ragou,' now new acted. The King and court all
there, and mighty merry: a farce.
"15th (September 1668). To the King's playhouse to see a new
play, acted but yesterday, a translation out of French by
Dryden, called 'The Ladys à la Mode' [probably the Precieuses,
but not translated by Dryden]: so mean a thing as when they
came to say it would be acted again to-morrow, both he that
said it (Beeston) and the pit fell a-laughing.
"19th (September 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
the 'Silent Woman;' the best comedy, I think, that ever was
wrote: and sitting by Shadwell the poet, he was big with
admiration of it. Here was my Lord Brouncker and W. Pen and
their ladies in the box, being grown mighty kind of a sudden;
but, God knows, it will last but a little while, I dare swear.
Knipp did her part mighty well.
"28th (September 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
'The City Match' (by Jasper Maine), not acted these thirty
years, and but a silly play; the King and court there; the
house, for the women's sake, mighty full.
"14th (October 1668). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
'The Faithful Shepherdess' (Fletcher's), that I might hear the
French eunuch sing; which I did to my great content; though I
do admire his actions as much as his acting, being both beyond
all I ever saw or heard.
"2nd (December 1678). So she (Mrs. Pepys) and I to the King's
playhouse, and there saw 'The Usurper;' a pretty good play in
all but what is designed to resemble Cromwell and Hugh Peters,
which is mighty silly. [The Usurper was by Ned Howard, who
seems to have wished to show how impartial he could be.]
"19th (December 1678). My wife and I by hackney to the King's
playhouse, and there, the pit being full, sat in the box above,
and saw 'Cataline's Conspiracy' (Ben Jonson's), yesterday being
the first day: a play of much good sense and words to read, but
that do appear the worst upon the stage, I mean the least
diverting, that ever I saw any, though most fine in clothes;
and a fine scene of the senate and of a fight as ever I saw in
my life. We sat next to Betty Hall, that did belong to this
house, and was Sir Philip Howard's mistress; a mighty pretty
wench.
"7th (January 1668-9). My wife and I to the King's playhouse,
and there saw 'The Island Princesse' (Beaumont and Fletcher's),
the first time I ever saw it; and it is a pretty good play,
many good things being in it, and a good scene of a town on
fire. We sat in an upper box, and the merry Jade Nell came in
and sat in the next box; a bold slut, who lay laughing there
upon people, and with a comrade of hers, of the Duke's house,
that came to see the play.
"11th (January 1668-9). Abroad with my wife to the King's
playhouse, and there saw 'The Joviall Crew' (by Richard Brome),
ill acted to what it was in Clun's time, and when Lacy could
dance.
"19th (January 1668-9). To the King's house to see 'Horace'
(translated from Corneille by Charles Cotton); this is the
third day of its acting; a silly tragedy; but Lacy hath made a
farce of several dances--between each act one; but his words
are but silly, and invention not extraordinary as to the
dances. [Pepys adds, with seeming approbation, an instance of
satire on the Dutch, too gross to extract, and highly
disgraceful to that age of "fine ladies and gentlemen."]
"2nd (February 1668-9). To dinner at noon, where I find Mr.
Sheres; and there made a short dinner, and carried him with us
to the King's playhouse, where 'The Heyresse,' notwithstanding
Kynaston's being beaten, is acted; and they say the King is
very angry with Sir Charles Sedley for his being beaten, but he
do deny it. But his part is done by Beeston, who is fain to
read it out of a book all the while, and thereby spoils the
part, and almost the play, it being one of the best parts in
it: and though the design is, in the first conception of it,
pretty good, yet it is but an indifferent play; wrote, they
say, by my Lord Newcastle. But it was pleasant to see Beeston
come in with others, supposing it to be dark, and yet forced to
read his part by the light of the candles; and this I observing
to a gentleman, that sat by me, he was mightily pleased
therewith and spread it up and down. But that that pleased me
most in the play, is the first song that Knipp sings (she sings
three or four); and indeed it was very finely sung, so as to
make the whole house clap her.
"6th (February 1668-9). To the King's playhouse, and there in
an upper box (where come in Colonel Poynton and Doll Stacey,
who is very fine, and by her wedding-ring I suppose he hath
married her at last), did see the 'Moor of Venice:' but ill
acted in most parts. Moon (which did a little surprise me) not
acting Iago's part by much so well as Clun used to do: nor
another Hart's, which was Cassio's; nor indeed Burt doing the
Moor's so well as I once thought he did.
"9th (February 1668-9). To the King's playhouse, and there saw
the 'Island Princesse,' which I like mighty well as an
excellent play; and here we find Kynaston to be well enough to
act again; which he do very well, after his beating by Sir
Charles Sedley's appointment. [Kynaston is generally supposed
to have been taken for Sedley, and beaten for some offence of
the baronet's. He affected to be Sedley's double.]
"26th (February 1668-9). To the King's playhouse, and saw the
'Faithful Shepherdesse.' But, lord! what an empty house, there
not being, as I could see the people, so many as to make up
above 10_l._ in the whole house! But I plainly discern the
musick is the better, by how much the house the emptier." [The
same thing was said by the great Handel, to console himself
once, when he found a spare audience.]