Some time afterwards, the king said he found by the newspapers, that
Mrs. Clive[198] was dead.
Do you read the newspapers? thought I. O, king! you must then have the
most unvexing temper in the world, not to run wild.
This led on to more players. He was sorry, he said, for Henderson,[199]
and the more as Mrs. Siddons had wished to have him play at the same
house with herself. Then Mrs. Siddons took her turn, and with the
warmest praise.
“I am an enthusiast for her,” cried the king, “quite an enthusiast, I
think there was never any player in my time so excellent--not Garrick
himself--I own it!”
Then, coming close to me, who was silent, he said,--“What?
what?”--meaning, what say you? But I still said nothing; I could not
concur where I thought so differently, and to enter into an argument was
quite impossible; for every little thing I said, the king listened to
with an eagerness that made me always ashamed of its insignificancy.
And, indeed, but for that I should have talked to him with much greater
fluency, as well as ease.
From players he went to plays, and complained of the great want of good
modern comedies, and of the extreme immorality of most of the old ones.
“And they pretend,” cried he, “to mend them; but it is not possible. Do
you think it is?--what?”
“No, sir, not often, I believe;--the fault, commonly, lies in the very
foundation.”
“Yes, or they might mend the mere speeches--but the characters are all
bad from the beginning to the end.”
Then he specified several; but I had read none of them, and consequently
could say nothing about the matter--till, at last, he came to
Shakspeare.
“Was there ever,” cried he, “such stuff as great part of Shakspeare only
one must not say so! But what think you?--What?--Is there not sad stuff?
what?--what?”
“Yes, indeed, I think so, sir, though mixed with such excellences,
that----”
“O!” cried he, laughing good-humouredly, “I know it is not to be said!
but it's true. Only it's Shakspeare, and nobody dare abuse him.”
Then he enumerated many of the characters and parts of plays that
he objected to--and when he had run them over, finished with again
laughing, and exclaiming,
“But one should be stoned for saying so!”
“Madame de Genlis, sir,” said I, “had taken such an impression of the
English theatre, that she told me she thought no woman ought to go to
any of our comedies.”
This, which, indeed, is a very overstrained censure of our dramas, made
him draw back, and vindicate the stage from a sentence so severe; which,
however, she had pronounced to me, as if she looked upon it to be an
opinion in which I should join as a thing past dispute.
The king approved such a denunciation no more than his little subject;
and he vindicated the stage from so hard an aspersion, with a warmth not
wholly free from indignation.
This led on to a good deal more dramatic criticism; but what was said
was too little followed up to be remembered for writing. His majesty
stayed near two hours, and then wished Mrs. Delany good night, and
having given me a bow, shut the door himself, to prevent Mrs. Delany, or
even me, from attending him out, and, with only Miss Port to wait upon
him, put on his own great coat in the passage, and walked away to
the lower Lodge, to see the Princess Elizabeth, without carriage or
attendant. He is a pattern of modest, but manly superiority to rank. I
should say more of this evening, and of the king, with whose unaffected
conversation and unassuming port and manner I was charmed, but that
I have another meeting to write,--a long, and, to me, very delightful
private conference with the queen. It happened the very next morning.