CHAPTER I.

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AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF

MR. COLLEY CIBBER.

_VOLUME THE FIRST._

_NOTE._

_510 copies printed on this fine deckle-edge demy 8vo

paper for England and America, with the portraits as

India proofs after letters._

_Each copy is numbered, and the type distributed._

_No._ 368

[Illustration: COLLEY CIBBER.]

AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF

MR. COLLEY CIBBER

_WRITTEN BY HIMSELF_

A NEW EDITION WITH NOTES AND SUPPLEMENT

BY

ROBERT W. LOWE

_WITH TWENTY-SIX ORIGINAL MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS BY

R. B. PARKES, AND EIGHTEEN ETCHINGS

BY ADOLPHE LALAUZE_

_IN TWO VOLUMES_

VOLUME THE FIRST

LONDON

JOHN C. NIMMO

14, KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND

MDCCCLXXXIX

Chiswick Press

PRINTED BY CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. E.C.

PREFACE.

Colley Cibber's famous Autobiography has always been recognized as one

of the most delightful books of its class; but, to students of

theatrical history, the charm of its author's ingenuous frankness has

been unable altogether to overweigh the inaccuracy and vagueness of his

treatment of matters of fact. To remove this cause of complaint is the

principal object of the present edition. But correcting errors is only

one of an editor's duties, and by no means the most difficult. More

exacting, and almost equally important, are the illustration of the

circumstances surrounding the author, the elucidation of his references

to current events, and the comparison of his statements and theories

with those of judicious contemporaries. In all these particulars I have

interpreted my duty in the widest sense, and have aimed at giving, as

far as in me lies, an exhaustive commentary on the "Apology."

I am fortunate in being able to claim that my work contains much

information which has never before been made public. A careful

investigation of the MSS. in the British Museum, and of the Records of

the Lord Chamberlain's Office (to which my access was greatly

facilitated by the kindness of Mr. Edward F. S. Pigott, the Licenser of

Plays), has enabled me to give the exact dates of many transactions

which were previously uncertain, and to give references to documents of

great importance in stage history, whose very existence was before

unknown. How important my new matter is, may be estimated by comparing

the facts given in my notes regarding the intricate transactions of the

years 1707 to 1721, with any previous history of the same period. Among

other sources of information, I may mention the Cibber Collections in

the Forster Library at South Kensington, to which my attention was drawn

by the kindness of the courteous keeper, Mr. R. F. Sketchley; and I have

also, of course, devoted much time to contemporary newspapers.

In order to illustrate the "Apology," two tracts of the utmost rarity,

the "Historia Histrionica" and Anthony Aston's "Brief Supplement" to

Cibber's Lives of the Actors, are reprinted in this edition. The

"Historia Histrionica" was written, all authorities agree, by James

Wright, Barrister-at-Law, whose "History and Antiquities of the County

of Rutland" is quoted by Cibber in his first chapter (vol. i. p. 8). The

historical value of this pamphlet is very great, because it contains the

only formal account in existence of the generation of actors who

preceded Betterton, and because it gives many curious and interesting

particulars regarding the theatres and plays, as well as the actors,

before and during the Civil Wars. As Cibber begins his account of the

stage (see chap. iv.) at the Restoration, there is a peculiar propriety

in prefacing it by Wright's work; a fact which has already been

recognized, for the publisher of the third edition (1750) of the

"Apology" appended to it "A Dialogue on Old Plays and Old Players,"

which is simply a reprint of the "Historia Histrionica" under another

title, and without the curious preface.

Following the "Historia Histrionica" will be found a copy of the Patent

granted to Sir William Davenant, one of the most important documents in

English stage history. A similar grant was made to Thomas Killigrew, as

is noted on page 87 of this volume.

These documents form a natural introduction to Cibber's History of the

Stage and of his own career, which commences, as has been said, at the

Restoration, and ends, somewhat abruptly, with his retirement from the

regular exercise of his profession in 1733. To complete the record of

Cibber's life, I have added a Supplementary Chapter to the "Apology," in

which I have also noted briefly the chief incidents of theatrical

history up to the time of his death. In this, too, I have told with some

degree of minuteness the story of his famous quarrel with Pope; and to

this chapter I have appended a list of Cibber's dramatic productions,

and a Bibliography of works by, or relating to him.

Anthony Aston's "Brief Supplement to Colley Cibber, Esq; his Lives of

the late famous Actors and Actresses," of which a reprint is given with

this edition, is almost, if not quite, the rarest of theatrical books.

Isaac Reed, says Genest, "wrote his name in his copy of Aston's little

book, with the date of 1769--he says--'this Pamphlet contains several

circumstances concerning the Performers of the last century, which are

no where else to be found--it seems never to have been published'--he

adds-'Easter Monday, 1795--though I have now possessed this pamphlet 26

years, it is remarkable that I never have seen another copy of it.'" Of

Aston himself, little is known. According to his own account he came on

the stage about 1700, and we know that he was a noted stroller; but as

to when he was born, or when he died, there is no information. He is

supposed, and probably with justice, to be the "trusty Anthony, who has

so often adorned both the theatres in England and Ireland," mentioned in

Estcourt's advertisement of his opening of the Bumper Tavern, in the

"Spectator" of 28th and 29th December, 1711; and he was no doubt a

well-known character among actors and theatre-goers. He would thus be

well qualified for his undertaking as biographer of the actors of his

time; and, indeed, his work bears every mark of being the production of

a writer thoroughly well acquainted with his subject. This valuable

pamphlet has been, until now practically a sealed book to theatrical

students.

The three works which make up this edition--Cibber's "Apology," Wright's

"Historia Histrionica," and Aston's "Brief Supplement"--are reprinted

_verbatim et literatim;_ the only alterations made being the correction

of obvious errors. Among obvious errors I include the avalanche of

commas with which Cibber's printers overwhelmed his text. A more

grotesque misuse of punctuation I do not know, and I have struck out a

large number of these points, not only because they were unmeaning, but

also because, to a modern reader, they were irritating in the highest

degree. The rest of the punctuation I have not interfered with, and with

the single exception of these commas the present edition reproduces not

only the matter of the works reprinted, but the very manner in which

they originally appeared, the use of italics and capitals having

especially been carefully observed.

The "Apology" of Cibber has gone through six editions. I have reprinted

the text of the second, because it was certainly revised by the author,

and many corrections made. But I have carefully compared my text with that

of the first edition, and, wherever the correction is more than merely

verbal, I have indicated the fact in a note (_e. g._ vol. i. p. 72). The

only edition which has been annotated is that published in 1822, under the

editorship of Edmund Bellchambers. Whether the Notes were written by the

Editor or by Jacob Henry Burn, who annotated Dickens's "Grimaldi," is a

point which I have raised in my "Bibliographical Account of English

Theatrical Literature" (p. 373). I have been unable to obtain any

authentic information on the subject, so give Burn's claim for what it is

worth. The statement as to the latter's authorship was made in his own

handwriting on the back of the title-page of a copy of the book, sold by a

well-known bookseller some years ago. It was in the following terms:--

"In 1821, while residing at No. 28, Maiden Lane, Covent

Garden, the elder Oxberry, who frequently called in as he

passed, found me one day adding notes in MS. to Cibber's

'Apology.' Taking it up, he said he should like to reprint it;

he wanted something to employ the spare time of his hands, and

proferred to buy my copy, thus annotated. I think it was two

pounds I said he should have it for; this sum he instantly

paid, and the notes throughout are mine, not Bellchambers's,

who having seen it through the press or corrected the proofs

whilst printing, added his name as the editor.--J. H. BURN."

Whether Burn or Bellchambers be the author, the notes, I find, are by no

means faultlessly accurate. I have made little use of them, except that

the Biographies, which are by far the most valuable of the annotations,

are reprinted at the end of my second volume. Even in these, it will be

seen, I have corrected many blunders. Some of the memoirs I have

condensed slightly; and, as the Biographies of Booth, Dogget, and Wilks

were in all essential points merely a repetition of Cibber's narrative,

I have not reprinted them. In all cases where I have made any use of

Bellchambers's edition, or have had a reference suggested to me by it,

I have carefully acknowledged my indebtedness.

Among the works of contemporary writers which I have quoted, either in

illustration, in criticism, or in contradiction of Cibber, it will be

noticed that I make large drafts upon the anonymous pamphlet entitled

"The Laureat: or, the right side of Colley Cibber, Esq;" (1740). I have

done this because it furnishes the keenest criticism upon Cibber's

statements, and gives, in an undeniably clever style, the views of

Cibber's enemies upon himself and his works. I am unable even to guess

who was the author of this work, but he must have been a man well

acquainted with theatrical matters.

Another pamphlet from which I quote, "The Egotist: or, Colley upon

Cibber" (1743), is interesting as being, I think without doubt, the work

of Cibber himself, although not acknowledged by him.

Many of the works which I quote in my notes have gone through only one

edition, and my quotations from these are easily traced; but, for the

convenience of those who may wish to follow up any of my references to

books which have been more than once issued, I may mention that in the

case of Davies's "Dramatic Miscellanies" I have referred throughout to the

edition of 1785; that Dr. Birkbeck Hill's magnificent edition of Boswell's

"Life of Johnson" is that which I have quoted; and that the references to

Nichols's reprint of Steele's "Theatre," the "Anti-Theatre," &c., are to

the scarce and valuable edition in 2 vols. 12mo, 1791. My quotations from

the "Tatler" have been made from a set of the original folio numbers,

which I am fortunate enough to possess; and I have made my extracts from

the "Roscius Anglicanus" from Mr. Joseph Knight's beautiful facsimile

edition. The index, which will be found at the end of the second volume,

has been the object of my special attention, and I have spared no pains to

make it clear and exhaustive.

ROBERT W. LOWE.

LONDON, _September, 1888_.

PUBLISHER'S PREFACE.

The twenty-six portraits and eighteen chapter headings in this new

edition of Colley Cibber's "Apology" are all newly engraved. The

portraits are copperplate mezzotints, engraved by R. B. Parkes from the

best and most authentic originals, in the selection of which great care

has been taken. Where more than one portrait exists, the least hackneyed

likeness has been chosen, and pains have been taken to secure those

pictures which are likely to be esteemed as rarities. The chapter

headings are etched by Adolphe Lalauze, and the subjects represent

scenes from plays illustrating the costumes, manner, and appearance of

the actors of Cibber's period, from contemporary authorities.

LONDON, _October, 1888_.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

HISTORIA HISTRIONICA: AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE

ENGLISH STAGE xix

LETTERS PATENT FOR ERECTING A NEW THEATRE liii

TITLE AND DEDICATION TO THE LIFE OF MR. COLLEY CIBBER lxiii

CHAPTER I.

THE INTRODUCTION. THE AUTHOR'S BIRTH, ETC. 1

CHAPTER II.

HE THAT TRITES OF HIMSELF NOT EASILY TIR'D, ETC. 28

CHAPTER III.

THE AUTHOR'S SEVERAL CHANCES FOR THE CHURCH, THE COURT, AND

THE ARMY, ETC. 55

CHAPTER IV.

A SHORT VIEW OF THE STAGE, FROM THE YEAR 1660 TO THE

REVOLUTION, ETC. 86

CHAPTER V.

THE THEATRICAL CHARACTERS OF THE PRINCIPAL ACTORS IN THE

YEAR 1690, CONTINU'D, ETC. 119

CHAPTER VI.

THE AUTHOR'S FIRST STEP UPON THE STAGE. HIS DISCOURAGEMENTS,

ETC. 180

CHAPTER VII.

THE STATE OF THE STAGE CONTINUED, ETC. 227

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PATENTEE OF DRURY-LANE WISER THAN HIS ACTORS, ETC. 262

CHAPTER IX.

A SMALL APOLOGY FOR WRITING ON, ETC. 299

LIST OF MEZZOTINT PORTRAITS.

NEWLY ENGRAVED BY R. B. PARKES.

VOLUME THE FIRST.

PAGE

I. COLLEY CIBBER. After the painting by John Baptist

Vanloo, 1740 _Frontispiece_

II. CAIUS GABRIEL CIBBER, the sculptor, father of

Colley Cibber. After the picture by Laroon and

Christian Richter. (Collection of the Earl of

Orford, Strawberry Hill) 18

III. THOMAS BETTERTON. After the painting by Sir

Godfrey Kneller 88

IV. BENJAMIN JOHNSON, in the character of Ananias, in

Ben Jonson's "Alchemist," act iii. After the

picture by Peter Van Bleeck, 1738 104

V. EDWARD KYNASTON, comedian. After R. Cooper. 122

VI. ANTHONY LEIGH, in the character of the Friar, in

Dryden's tragi-comedy of "The Spanish Friar."

After the painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller 146

VII. ELIZABETH BARRY. After the painting by Sir

Godfrey Kneller, 1689. (Collection of the Earl

of Orford, Strawberry Hill) 160

VIII. MRS. BRACEGIRDLE as "The Indian Queen," in the

play by Sir R. Howard and J. Dryden. After the

picture by J. Smith and W. Vincent 188

IX. WILLIAM BULLOCK. After the picture by Thomas

Johnson. _Ad vivum pinxit et fecit_ 204

X. WILLIAM PENKETHMAN. After the painting by

R. Schmutz 238

XI. WILLIAM CONGREVE. After the painting by Sir

Godfrey Kneller, 1709, "Kit-Cat Club" 272

XII. CHARLOTTE CHARKE. After a study by Henry

Gravelot 288

XIII. SIR JOHN VANBRUGH. After the painting by Sir

Godfrey Kneller, "Kit-Cat Club" 306

LIST OF CHAPTER HEADINGS.

NEWLY ETCHED FROM CONTEMPORARY DRAWINGS BY

ADOLPHE LALAUZE.

VOLUME THE FIRST.

I. CAIUS GABRIEL CIBBER'S FIGURES OF RAVING AND

MELANCHOLY MADNESS. From Bedlam Hospital.[1]

II. SCENE ILLUSTRATING CROWNE'S "SIR COURTLY NICE."

After the contemporary design by Arnold Vanhaecken.

III. SCENE ILLUSTRATING ETHEREDGE'S "MAN OF MODE;

OR, SIR FOPLING FLUTTER." After the design by Lud.

du Guernier.

IV. SCENE ILLUSTRATING CONGREVE'S "DOUBLE DEALER."

After F. Hayman.

V. GRIFFIN AND JOHNSON IN THE CHARACTERS OF TRIBULATION

AND ANANIAS, Ben Jonson's "Alchemist," act iii.

scene 2. Tribulation. "I do command thee (Spirit of

Zeal, but Trouble) to peace, within him." After the

original by Peter Van Bleeck, 1738.

VI. SCENE ILLUSTRATING OTWAY'S "ORPHAN." After the

contemporary etching by G. Vander Gucht.

VII. MRS. PORTER, MILLS, AND CIBBER. After a contemporary

engraving by J. Basire.

VIII. SCENE ILLUSTRATING STEELE'S "FUNERAL, OR GRIEF À LA

MODE." After the contemporary design by G. Vander

Gucht.

IX. MR. ESTCOURT AS "KITE" IN FARQUHAR'S "RECRUITING

OFFICER." After the contemporary design by E. Knight

and G. Vander Gucht.

HISTORIA HISTRIONICA:

AN

Historical Account

OF THE

ENGLISH STAGE,

SHEWING

The ancient Use, Improvement,

and Perfection, of Dramatick Representations,

in this Nation.

IN A

Dialogue, of _PLAYS_ and _PLAYERS._

----_Olim meminisse juvabit._

_LONDON._

Printed by _G. Croom,_ for _William Haws_ at the

Rose in _Ludgate-Street_. 1699.

THE PREFACE.

_Much has been Writ of late_ pro _and_ con, _about the Stage, yet the

Subject admits of more, and that which has not been hetherto toucht

upon; not only what that is, but what it was, about which some People

have made such a Busle. What it is we see, and I think it has been

sufficiently displayed in Mr._ Collier'_s Book; What it was in former

Ages, and how used in this Kingdom, so far back as one may collect any

Memorialls, is the Subject of the following Dialogue. Old Plays will be

always read by the_ Curious, _if it were only to discover the Manners

and Behaviour of several Ages; and how they alter'd. For Plays are

exactly like_ Portraits _Drawn in the Garb and Fashion of the time when

Painted. You see one Habit in the time of King_ Charles I. _another

quite different from that, both for Men and Women, in Queen_ Elizabeths

_time; another under_ Henry _the Eighth different from both; and so

backward all various. And in the several Fashions of Behaviour and

Conversation, there is as much Mutability as in that of cloaths.

Religion and Religious matters was once as much the Mode in publick

Entertainments, as the Contrary has been in some times since. This

appears in the different Plays of several Ages: And to evince this, the

following Sheets are an Essay or Specimen._

_Some may think the Subject of this Discourse trivial, and the persons

herein mention'd not worth remembering. But besides that I could name

some things contested of late with great heat, of as little, or less

Consequence, the Reader may know that the Profession of Players is not

so totally scandalous, nor all of them so reprobate, but that there has

been found under that Name, a Canonized Saint in the primitive Church;

as may be seen in the_ Roman Martyrology _on the_ 29th _of_ March; _his

name_ Masculas _a Master of Interludes_, (_the Latin is_ Archimimus,

_and the French translation_ un Maitre Comedien) _who under the

Persecution of the_ Vandals _in_ Africa, _by_ Geisericus _the_ Arian

_King, having endured many and greivious Torments and Reproaches for the

Confession of the Truth, finisht the Course of this glorious Combat.

Saith the said_ Martyrology.

_It appears from this, and some further Instances in the following

Discourse, That there have been Players of worthy Principles as to

Religion, Loyalty, and other Virtues; and if the major part of them fall

under a different Character, it is the general unhappiness of Mankind,

that the_ Most _are the_ Worst.

A DIALOGUE OF PLAYS and PLAYERS.

LOVEWIT, TRUMAN.

LOVEW. Honest Old Cavalier! well met, 'faith I'm glad to see thee.

TRUM. Have a care what you call me. Old, is a Word of Disgrace among the

Ladies; to be Honest is to be Poor, and Foolish, (as some think) and

Cavalier is a Word as much out of Fashion as any of 'em.

LOVEW. The more's the pity: But what said the Fortune-Teller in _Ben.

Johnson_'s Mask of _Gypsies_, to the then _Lord Privy Seal_,

_Honest and Old!_

_In those the_ Good _Part of a Fortune is told_.

TRUM. _Ben. Johnson?_ How dare you name _Ben. Johnson_ in these times?

When we have such a crowd of Poets of a quite different Genius; the

least of which thinks himself as well able to correct _Ben. Johnson_, as

he could a Country School Mistress that taught to Spell.

LOVEW. We have indeed, Poets of a different Genius; so are the Plays:

but in my Opinion, they are all of 'em (some few excepted) as much

inferior to those of former Times, as the Actors now in being (generally

speaking) are, compared to _Hart_, _Mohun_, _Burt_, _Lacy_, _Clun_, and

_Shatterel_; for I can reach no farther backward.

TRUM. I can; and dare assure you, if my Fancy and Memory are not partial

(for Men of my Age are apt to be over indulgent to the Thoughts of their

youthful Days) I say the Actors that I have seen before the Wars,

_Lowin_, _Tayler_, _Pollard_, and some others, were almost as far beyond

_Hart_ and his Company, as those were beyond these now in being.

LOVEW. I am willing to believe it, but cannot readily; because I have

been told, That those whom I mention'd, were Bred up under the others of

your Acquaintance, and follow'd their manner of Action, which is now

lost. So far, that when the Question has been askt, Why these Players do

not revive the _Silent Woman_, and some other of _Johnson_'s Plays,

(once of highest esteem) they have answer'd, truly, Because there are

none now Living who can rightly Humour those Parts; for all who related

to the _Black-friers_, (where they were Acted in perfection) are now

Dead, and almost forgotten.

TRUM. 'Tis very true, _Hart_ and _Clun_, were bred up Boys at the

_Black-friers_, and acted Womens Parts, _Hart_ was _Robinson_'s Boy or

Apprentice: He acted the Dutchess in the Tragedy of _the Cardinal_,

which was the first Part that gave him Reputation. _Cartwright_, and

_Wintershal_ belong'd to the private House in _Salisbury-court_, _Burt_

was a Boy first under _Shank_ at the _Black-friers_, then under

_Beeston_ at the _Cockpit_; and _Mohun_, and _Shatterel_ were in the

same Condition with him, at the last Place. There _Burt_ used to Play

the principal Women's Parts, in particular _Clariana_ in _Love's

Cruelty_; and at the same time _Mohun_ acted _Bellamente_, which Part he

retain'd after the Restauration.

LOVEW. That I have seen, and can well remember. I wish they had Printed

in the last Age (so I call the times before the Rebellion) the Actors

Names over against the Parts they Acted, as they have done since the

Restauration. And thus one might have guest at the Action of the Men, by

the Parts which we now Read in the Old Plays.

TRUM. It was not the Custome and Usage of those Days, as it hath been

since. Yet some few Old Plays there are that have the Names set against

the Parts, as, _The Dutchess of Malfy_; _the Picture_; _the Roman

Actor_; _the deserving Favourite_; _the Wild Goose Chace_, (at the

Black-friers) _the Wedding_; _the Renegado_; _the fair Maid of the

West_; _Hannibal and Scipio_; _King John and Matilda_; (at the Cockpit)

and _Holland's Leaguer_, (at Salisbury Court).

LOVEW. These are but few indeed: But pray Sir, hat Master-Parts can you

remember the Old _Black-friers_ Men to Act, in _Johnson_, _Shakespear_,

and _Fletcher_'s Plays.

TRUM. What I can at present recollect I'll tell you; _Shakespear_, (who

as I have heard, was a much better Poet, than Player) _Burbadge_,

_Hemmings_, and others of the Older sort, were Dead before I knew the

Town; but in my time, before the Wars, _Lowin_ used to Act, with mighty

Applause, _Falstaffe_, _Morose_, _Volpone_, and _Mammon_ in the

_Alchymist_; _Melancius_, in the _Maid's_ Tragedy, and at the same time

_Amyntor_ was Play'd by _Stephen Hammerton_, (who was at first a most

noted and beautiful Woman Actor, but afterwards he acted with equal

Grace and Applause, a Young Lover's Part); _Tayler_ Acted _Hamlet_

incomparably well, _Iago_, _Truewit_ in the _Silent Woman_, and _Face_

in the _Alchymist_; _Swanston_ used to Play _Othello_; _Pollard_, and

_Robinson_ were Comedians, so was _Shank_ who us'd to Act Sir _Roger_,

in _the Scornful Lady_. These were of the _Black-friers_. Those of

principal Note at the _Cockpit_, were, _Perkins_, _Michael Bowyer_,

_Sumner_, _William Allen_, and _Bird_, eminent Actors, and _Robins_ a

Comedian. Of the other Companies I took little notice.

LOVEW. Were there so many Companies?

TRUM. Before the Wars, there were in being all these Play-houses at the

same time. The _Black-friers_, and _Globe_ on the _Bankside_, a Winter

and Summer House, belonging to the same Company, called the King's

Servants; the _Cockpit_ or _Phoenix_, in _Drury-lane_, called the

Queen's Servants; the private House in _Salisbury-court_, called the

Prince's Servants; the _Fortune_ near _White-cross-street_, and the

_Red Bull_ at the upper end of St. _John's-street_: The two last were

mostly frequented by Citizens, and the meaner sort of People. All these

Companies got Money, and Liv'd in Reputation, especially those of the

_Black-friers_, who were Men of grave and sober Behaviour.

LOVEW. Which I admire at; That the Town much less than at present, could

then maintain Five Companies, and yet now Two can hardly subsist.

TRUM. Do not wonder, but consider, That tho' the Town was then, perhaps,

not much more than half so Populous as now, yet then the Prices were

small (there being no Scenes) and better order kept among the Company

that came; which made very good People think a Play an Innocent

Diversion for an idle Hour or two, the Plays themselves being then, for

the most part, more Instructive and Moral. Whereas of late, the

Play-houses are so extreamly pestered with Vizard-masks and their Trade,

(occasioning continual Quarrels and Abuses) that many of the more

Civilized Part of the Town are uneasy in the Company, and shun the

Theater as they would a House of Scandal. It is an Argument of the worth

of the Plays and Actors, of the last Age, and easily inferr'd, that they

were much beyond ours in this, to consider that they cou'd support

themselves meerly from their own Merit; the weight of the Matter, and

goodness of the Action, without Scenes and Machines: Whereas the present

Plays with all that shew, can hardly draw an Audience, unless there be

the additional Invitation of a _Signior Fideli_, a _Monsieur L'abbe_,

or some such Foreign Regale exprest in the bottom of the Bill.

LOVEW. To wave this Digression, I have Read of one _Edward Allin_, a Man

so famed for excellent Action, that among _Ben. Johnson_'s epigrams, I

find one directed to him, full of Encomium, and concluding thus,

_Wear this Renown, 'tis just that who did give

So many Poets Life, by one should Live._

Was he one of the _Black-friers_?

TRUM. Never, as I have heard; (for he was Dead before my time). He was

Master of a Company of his own, for whom he Built the _Fortune_

Playhouse from the Ground, a large, round Brick Building. This is he

that grew so Rich that he purchased a great estate in _Surrey_ and

elsewhere; and having no Issue, He built and largely endow'd _Dulwich_

College, in the Year 1619, for a Master, a Warden, Four Fellows, Twelve

aged poor People, and Twelve poor Boys, _&c._ A noble Charity.

LOVEW. What kind of Playhouses had they before the Wars?

TRUM. The _Black-friers_, _Cockpit_, and _Salisbury-court_, were called

Private Houses, and were very small to what we see now. The _Cockpit_

was standing since the Restauration, and _Rhode_'s Company Acted there

for some time.

LOVEW. I have seen that.

TRUM. Then you have seen the other two, in effect; for they were all

three Built almost exactly alike, for Form and Bigness. Here they had

Pits for the Gentry, and Acted by Candle-light. The _Globe_, _Fortune_

and _Bull_, were large Houses, and lay partly open to the Weather, and

there they alwaies Acted by Daylight.

LOVEW. But, prithee, _Truman_, what became of these Players when the

Stage was put down, and the Rebellion rais'd?

TRUM. Most of 'em, except _Lowin_, _Tayler_ and _Pollard_ (who

were superannuated) went into the King's Army, and like good Men

and true, Serv'd their Old Master, tho' in a different, yet more

honourable, Capacity. _Robinson_ was Kill'd at the Taking of a Place,

(I think _Basing House_) by _Harrison_, he that was after Hang'd at

_Charing-cross_, who refused him Quarter, and Shot him in the Head when

he had laid down his Arms; abusing Scripture at the same time, in

saying, _Cursed is he that doth the Work of the Lord negligently_.

_Mohun_ was a Captain, (and after the Wars were ended here, served in

_Flanders_ where he received Pay as a Major), _Hart_ was a Lieutenant of

Horse under Sir _Thomas Dallison_, in _Prince Rupert_'s Regiment, _Burt_

was Cornet in the same Troop, and _Shatterel_ Quarter-master. _Allen_ of

the _Cockpit_, was a Major, and Quarter Master General at _Oxford_. I

have not heard of one of these Players of any Note that sided with the

other Party, but only _Swanston_, and he profest himself a Presbyterian,

took up the Trade of a Jeweller, and liv'd in _Aldermanbury_, within the

Territory of Father _Calamy_. The rest either Lost, or expos'd their

Lives for their King. When the Wars were over, and the Royalists totally

Subdued, most of 'em who were left alive gather'd to _London_, and for a

Subsistence endeavour'd to revive their Old Trade, privately. They made

up one Company out of all the Scatter'd Members of Several; and in the

Winter before the King's Murder, 1648, they ventured to Act some Plays

with as much caution and privacy as you'd be, at the _Cockpit_. They

continu'd undisturbed for three or four Days; but at last as they were

presenting the Tragedy of the _Bloudy Brother_ (in which _Lowin_ Acted

Aubrey, _Tayler_ Rollo, _Pollard_ the Cook, _Burt_ Latorch, and I think

_Hart_ Otto) a Party of Foot Souldiers beset the House, surpriz'd 'em

about the midle of the Play, and carried 'em away in their habits, not

admitting them to shift, to _Hatton-house_, then a Prison, where having

detain'd them some time, they Plunder'd them of their Cloths and let 'em

loose again. Afterwards in _Oliver_'s time, they used to Act privately,

three or four Miles, or more, out of Town, now here, now there,

sometimes in Noblemens Houses, in particular _Holland-house_ at

_Kensington_, where the Nobility and Gentry who met (but in no great

Numbers) used to make a Sum for them, each giving a broad Peice, or the

like. And _Alexander Goffe_, the Woman Actor at _Black-friers_ (who had

made himself known to Persons of Quality) used to be the Jackal, and

give notice of Time and Place. At Christmass, and Bartlemew-fair, they

used to Bribe the Officer who Commanded the Guard at _Whitehall_, and

were thereupon connived at to Act for a few Days, at the _Red Bull_; but

were sometimes notwithstanding Disturb'd by Soldiers. Some pickt up a

little Money by publishing the Copies of Plays never before Printed, but

kept up in Manuscript. For instance, in the Year 1652, _Beaumont_ and

_Fletcher's Wild Goose Chace_ was Printed in Folio, _for the Public use

of all the Ingenious_, (as the Title-page says) _and private Benefit of_

John Lowin _and_ Joseph Tayler, _Servants to his late Majesty_; and by

them Dedicated _To the Honour'd few Lovers of Dramatick Poesy_: Wherein

they modestly intimate their Wants. And that with sufficient Cause; for

whatever they were before the Wars, they were, after, reduced to a

necessitous Condition. _Lowin_ in his latter Days, kept an Inn (the

three Pidgions) at _Brentford_, where he dyed very Old, (for he was an

Actor of eminent Note in the Reign of K. _James_ the first) and his

Poverty was as great as his Age. _Tayler_ Dyed at _Richmond_ and was

there Buried. _Pollard_ who Lived Single, and had a Competent Estate;

Retired to some Relations he had in the Country, and there ended his

Life. _Perkins_ and _Sumner_ of the _Cockpit_, kept House together at

_Clerkenwel_, and were there Buried. These all Dyed some Years before

the Restauration. What follow'd after, I need not tell you: You can

easily Remember.

LOVEW. Yes, presently after the Restauration, the King's Players Acted

publickly at the _Red Bull_ for some time, and then Removed to a

New-built Playhouse in _Vere-street_, by _Claremarket_. There they

continued for a Year or two, and then removed to the _Theater Royal_ in

_Drury-lane_, where they first made use of Scenes, which had been a

little before introduced upon the publick Stage by Sir _William

Davenant_ at the _Dukes Old Theater_ in _Lincolns-Inn-fields_, but

afterwards very much improved, with the Addition of curious Machines, by

Mr. _Betterton_ at the New _Theater_ in _Dorset-Garden_, to the great

Expence and continual Charge of the Players. This much impair'd their

Profit o'er what it was before; for I have been inform'd, (by one of

'em) That for several Years next after the Restauration, every whole

Sharer in Mr. _Hart_'s Company, got 1000_l. per an._ About the same time

that Scenes first enter'd upon the Stage at _London_, Women were taught

to Act their own Parts; since when, we have seen at both Houses several

excellent Actresses, justly famed as well for Beauty, as perfect good

Action. And some Plays (in particular _The Parson's Wedding_) have been

Presented all by Women, as formerly all by Men. Thus it continued for

about 20 Years, when Mr. _Hart_ and some of the Old Men began to grow

weary, and were minded to leave off; then the two Companies thought fit

to Unite; but of late, you see, they have thought it no less fit to

Divide again, though both Companies keep the same Name of his Majesty's

Servants. All this while the Play-house Musick improved Yearly, and is

now arrived to greater Perfection than ever I knew it. Yet for all these

Advantages, the Reputation of the Stage, and Peoples Affection to it,

are much Decay'd. Some were lately severe against it, and would hardly

allow Stage-Plays fit to be longer permitted. Have you seen Mr.

_Collier_'s book?

TRUM. Yes, and his Opposer's.

LOVEW. And what think you?

TRUM. In my mind Mr. _Collier_'s Reflections are Pertinent, and True in

the Main; the Book ingeniously Writ, and well Intended: But he has

over-shot himself in some Places; and his Respondents, perhaps, in more.

My Affection inclines me not to Engage on either side, but rather

Mediate. If there be Abuses relating to the Stage; (which I think is too

apparent) let the Abuse be Reformed, and not the use, for that Reason

only, Abolish'd. 'Twas an Old saying when I was a Boy,

_Absit Abusus, non desit totaliter Usus._

I shall not run through Mr. _Collier_'s Book; I will only touch a little

on two or three general Notions, in which, I think he may be mistaken.

What he urges out of the Primitive Councils, and Fathers of the Church,

seems to me to be directed against the Heathen Plays, which were a sort

of Religious Worship with them, to the Honour of _Ceres_, _Flora_, or

some of their false Deities; they had always a little Altar on their

Stages, as appears plain enough from some places in _Plautus_. And Mr.

_Collier_ himself, p. 235, tells us out of _Livy_, that Plays were

brought in upon the Score of Religion, to pacify the Gods. No wonder

then, they forbid Christians to be present at them, for it was almost

the same as to be present at their Sacrifices. We must also observe that

this was in the Infancy of Christianity, when the Church was under

severe, and almost continual Persecutions, and when all its true Members

were of most strict and exemplary Lives, not knowing when they should be

call'd to the Stake, or thrown to Wild-Beasts. They communicated Daily,

and expected Death hourly; their thoughts were intent upon the next

World, they abstain'd almost wholly from all Diversions and pleasures

(though lawfull and Innocent) in this. Afterwards when Persecution

ceased, and the church flourisht, Christians being then freed from their

former Terrors, allow'd themselves, at proper times, the lawfull

Recreations of Conversation, and among other (no doubt) this of Shewes

and Representations. After this time, the Censures of the Church indeed,

might be continued, or revived, upon occasion, against Plays and

Players; tho' (in my Opinion) it cannot be understood generally, but

only against such Players who were of Vicious and Licencious Lives, and

represented profane Subjects, inconsistant with the Morals and probity

of Manners requisite to Christians; and frequented chiefly by such loose

and Debaucht People, as were much more apt to Corrupt than Divert those

who associated with them. I say, I cannot think the Canons and Censures

of the Fathers can be applyed to all Players, _quatenus_ Players; for if

so how could Plays be continued among the Christians, as they were, of

Divine Subjects, and Scriptural Stories? A late French Author, speaking

of the Original of the _Hotel de Bourgogne_ (a Play-house in _Paris_)

says that the ancient Dukes of that Name gave it to the Brotherhood of

the Passion, established in the Church of Trinity-Hospital in the _Rue

S. Denis_, on condition that they should represent here Interludes of

Devotion: And adds that there have been public Shews in this Place 600

Years ago. The Spanish and Portuguize continue still to have, for the

most part, such Ecclesiastical Stories, for the Subject of their Plays:

And, if we may believe _Gage_, they are Acted in their Churches in

_Mexico_, and the Spanish _West-Indies_.

LOVEW. That's a great way off, _Truman_; I had rather you would come

nearer Home, and confine your discourse to Old _England_.

TRUM. So I intend. The same has been done here in _England_; for

otherwise how comes it to be prohibited in the _88th_ Canon, among those

past in Convocation, 1603. Certain it is that our ancient Plays were of

Religious Subjects, and had for their Actors, (if not Priests) yet Men

relating to the Church.

LOVEW. How does that appear?

TRUM. Nothing clearer. _Stow_ in his Survey of _London_, has one Chapter

_of the Sports and Pastimes of old time used in this City_; and there he

tells us, That in the Year 1391 (which was 15 _R._ 2.) a Stage-Play was

play'd by the Parish-Clerks of _London_, at the _Skinner's-well_ beside

_Smithfield_, which Play continued, three Days together, the King,

Queen, and Nobles of the Realm being present. And another was play'd in

the Year 1409, (11 _H._ 4.) which lasted eight Days, and was of Matter

from the Creation of the World; whereat was present most part of the

Nobility and Gentry of _England_. Sir _William Dugdale_, in his

Antiquities of _Warwickshire_, p. 116, speaking of the _Gray-friers_ (or

_Franciscans_) at _Coventry_, says, Before the suppression of the

Monasteries, this City was very famous for the Pageants that were play'd

therein upon _Corpus-Christi_ Day; which Pageants being acted with

mighty State and Reverence by the Friers of this House, had Theatres for

the several Scenes very large and high, plac'd upon Wheels, and drawn to

all the eminent Parts of the City, for the better advantage of the

Spectators; and contain'd the Story of the New Testament, composed in

old English Rhime. An ancient Manuscript of the same is now to be seen

in the _Cottonian_ Library, _Sub Effig. Vespat. D._ 8. Since the

Reformation, in Queen _Elizabeth's_ time, Plays were frequently acted by

Quiristers and Singing Boys; and several of our old Comedies have

printed in the Title Page, _Acted by the Children of_ Paul's, (not the

School, but the Church) others, _By the Children of Her Majesty's

Chappel_; in particular, _Cinthias Revels_, and the _Poetaster_ were

play'd by them; who were at that time famous for good Action. Among

_Ben. Johnson_'s Epigrams you may find _An Epitaph on S. P._

(Sal Pavy) _one of the Children of Queen_ Elizabeth's _Chappel_, part of

which runs thus,

_Years he counted scarce Thirteen

When Fates turn'd Cruel,

Yet three fill'd Zodiacks he had been

The Stages Jewell;

And did act (what now we moan)

Old Men so duly,

As, sooth, the_ Parcæ _thought him one,

He play'd so truly._

Some of these Chappel Boys, when they grew Men, became Actors at the

_Black-friers_; such were _Nathan Feild_, and _John Underwood_. Now I

can hardly imagine that such Plays and Players as these, are included in

the severe Censure of the Councils and Fathers; but such only who are

truly within the Character given by _Didacus de Tapia_, cited by Mr.

_Collier_, p. 276, _viz. The Infamous Playhouse_; _a place of

contradiction to the strictness and sobriety of Religion_; _a place

hated by God, and haunted by the Devil_. And for such I have as great an

abhorrance as any man.

LOVEW. Can you guess of what Antiquity the representing of Religious

Matters, on the Stage, hath been in _England_?

TRUM. How long before the Conquest I know not, but that it was used in

_London_ not long after, appears by _Fitz-Stevens_, an Author who wrote

in the reign of King _Henry_ the Second. His words are, _Londonia pro

spectaculis theatralibus, pro ludis scenicis, ludos habet sanctiores,

Representationes miraculorum, quæ sancti Confessores operati sunt, seu

Representationes passionum quibus claruit constantia Martyrum_. Of this,

the Manuscript which I lately mention'd, in the _Cottonian_ Library, is

a notable instance. Sir _William Dugdale_ cites this Manuscript, by the

Title of _Ludus Coventriæ_; but in the printed Catalogue of that

Library, p. 113, it is named thus, _A Collection of Plays in old English

Metre,_ h. e. _Dramata sacra in quibus exhibentur historiæ Veteris & N.

Testamenti, introductis quasi in Scenam personis illic memoratis, quas

secum invicem colloquentes pro ingenio fingit Poeta. Videntur olim coram

populo, sive ad instruendum sive ad placendum, a fratribus mendicantibus

repræsentata._ It appears by the latter end of the Prologue, that these

Plays or Interludes, were not only play'd at _Coventry_, but in other

Towns and Places upon occasion. And possibly this may be the same Play

which _Stow_ tells us was play'd in the reign of King _Henry_ IV., which

lasted for Eight Days. The Book seems by the Character and Language to

be at least 300 Years old. It begins with a general Prologue, giving the

arguments of 40 Pageants or Gesticulations (which were as so many

several Acts or Scenes) representing all the Histories of both

Testaments, from the Creation, to the choosing of St. _Mathias_ to be an

Apostle. The Stories of the New Testament are more largely exprest,

_viz._ The Annunciation, Nativity, Visitation; but more especially all

Matters relating to the Passion very particularly, the Resurrection,

Ascention, the choice of St. _Mathias_: After which is also represented

the Assumption, and last Judgment. All these things were treated of in a

very homely style, (as we now think) infinitely below the Dignity of the

Subject: But it seems the Gust of that Age was not so nice and delicate

in these Matters; the plain and incurious Judgment of our Ancestors,

being prepared with favour, and taking every thing by the right and

easiest Handle: For example, in the Scene relating to the Visitation:

_Maria._ But husband of oo thyng pray you most mekely,

I haue knowing that our Cosyn Elizabeth with childe is,

That it please yow to go to her hastyly,

If ought we myth comfort her it wer to me blys.

_Joseph._ A Gods sake, is she with child, sche?

Than will her husband Zachary be mery.

In Montana they dwelle, fer hence, so moty the,

In the city of Juda, I know it verily;

It is hence I trowe myles two a fifty,

We ar like to be wery or we come at the same.

I wole with a good will, blessyd wyff Mary;

Now go we forth then in goddys name, &c.

A little before the Resurrection:

_Nunc dormient milites, & veniet anima Christi de inferno, cum_

Adam & Eva, Abraham, John Baptist, _& aliis._

_Anima Christi._ Come forth Adam, and Eve with the,

And all my fryndes that herein be,

In Paradys come forth with me

In blysse for to dwelle.

The fende of hell that is yowr foo

He shall be wrappyd and woundyn in woo:

Fro wo to welth now shall ye go,

With myrth euer mor to melle.

_Adam._ I thank the Lord of thy grete grace

That now is forgiuen my gret trespace,

Now shall we dwellyn in blyssful pace, &c.

The last Scene or Pageant, which represents the Day of Judgment, begins

thus:

_Michael._ _Surgite_, All men aryse,

_Venite ad judicium_,

For now is set the High Justice,

And hath assignyd the day of Dome:

Kepe you redyly to this grett assyse,

Both gret and small, all and sum,

And of yowr answer you now advise,

What you shall say when that yow com, &c.

These and such like, were the Plays which in former Ages were presented

publickly: Whether they had any settled and constant Houses for that

purpose, does not appear; I suppose not. But it is notorious that in

former times there was hardly ever any Solemn Reception of Princes, or

Noble Persons, but Pageants (that is Stages Erected in the open Street)

were part of the Entertainment. On which there were Speeches by one or

more Persons, in the nature of Scenes; and be sure one of the Speakers

must be some Saint of the same Name with the Party to whom the Honour is

intended. For instance, there is an ancient Manuscript at _Coventry_,

call'd the _Old Leet Book_, wherein is set down in a very particular

manner, (fo. 168) the reception of Queen _Margaret_, wife of _H._ 6, who

came to _Coventry_ (and I think, with her, her young Son, Prince

_Edward_) on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy-Cross, 35 _H._ 6.

(1456). Many Pageants and Speeches were made for her Welcome; out of all

which, I shall observe but two or three, in the Old English, as it is

Recorded.

_St. Edward._ Moder of mekenes, Dame Margarete, princes most

excellent,

I King Edward wellcome you with affection cordial,

Certefying to your highnes mekely myn entent,

For the wele of the King and you hertily pray I shall,

And for prince Edward my gostly chylde, who I love principal.

Praying the, John Evangelist, my help therein to be,

On that condition right humbly I giue this Ring to the.

_John Evangelist._ Holy Edward crowned King, Brother in

Verginity,

My power plainly I will prefer thy will to amplefy.

Most excellent princes of wymen mortal, your Bedeman will I be.

I know your Life so vertuous that God is pleased thereby.

The birth of you unto this Reme shall cause great Melody:

The vertuous voice of Prince Edward shall dayly well encrease,

St. Edward his Godfader and I shall pray therefore doubtlese.

_St. Margaret._ Most notabul princes of wymen earthle,

Dame Margarete, the chefe myrth of this Empyre,

Ye be hertely welcome to this Cyte.

To the plesure of your highnesse I wyll set my desyre;

Both nature and gentlenesse doth me require,

Seth we be both of one name, to shew you kindnesse;

Wherefore by my power ye shall have no distresse.

I shall pray to the Prince that is endlese

To socour you with solas of his high grace;

He will here my petition this is doubtlesse,

For I wrought all my life that his will wace.

Therefore, Lady, when you be in any dredfull case,

Call on me boldly, thereof I pray you,

And trust in me feythfully, I will do that may pay you.

In the next Reign (as appears in the same Book, fo. 221) an other

Prince _Edward_, Son of King _Edward_ the 4, came to _Coventry_ on the

28 of _April_, 14 _E._ 4, (1474) and was entertain'd with many Pageants

and Speeches, among which I shall observe only two: one was of St.

_Edward_ again, who was then made to speak thus,

Noble Prince Edward, my Cousin and my Knight,

And very Prince of our Line com yn dissent,

I Saint Edward have pursued for your faders imperial Right,

Whereof he was excluded by full furious intent.

Unto this your Chamber as prince full excellent

Ye be right welcome. Thanked be Crist of his sonde,

For that that was ours is now in your faders honde.

The other Speech was from St. _George_; and thus saith the Book.

----Also upon the Condite in the Croscheping was St. George

armed, and a kings daughter kneling afore him with a Lamb, and

the fader and the moder being in a Towre aboven beholding St.

George saving their daughter from the Dragon, and the Condite

renning wine in four places, and Minstralcy of Organ playing,

and St. George hauing this Speech under-written.

O mighty God our all succour celestiall,

Which this Royme hast given in dower

To thi moder, and to me George protection perpetuall

It to defend from enimys fer and nere,

And as this mayden defended was here

By thy grace from this Dragons devour,

So, Lord preserve this noble prince, and ever be his socour.

LOVEW. I perceive these holy Matters consisted very much of Praying; but

I pitty poor St. _Edward_ the Confessor, who in the compass of a few

Years, was made to promise his favour and assistance to two young

Princes of the same Name indeed, but of as different and opposite

Interests as the two Poles. I know not how he could perform to both.

TRUM. Alas! they were both unhappy, notwithstanding these fine Shews and

seeming caresses of Fortune, being both murder'd, one by the Hand, the

other by the procurement of _Rich._ Duke of _Glocester_. I will produce

but one Example more of this sort of Action, or Representations, and

that is of later time, and an instance of much higher Nature than any

yet mentioned, it was at the marriage of Prince _Arthur_, eldest Son of

king _Henry 7_. to the Princess _Catherine_ of _Spain, An. 1501_. Her

passage through _London_ was very magnificent, as I have read it

described in an old M.S. Chronicle of that time. The Pageants and

Speeches were many; the Persons represented St. _Catherine_, St.

_Ursula_, a Senator, Noblesse, Virtue, an Angel, King _Alphonse_, _Job_,

_Boetius_, &c. among others one is thus described.

When this Spech was ended, she held on her way tyll she cam

unto the Standard in Chepe, where was ordeyned the fifth

Pagend made like an hevyn, theryn syttyng a Personage

representing the fader of hevyn, beyng all formyd of Gold, and

brennying beffor his trone vii Candyilis of wax standyng in

vii Candylstykis of Gold, the said personage beyng environed

wyth sundry Hyrarchies off Angelis, and sytting in a Cope of

most rich cloth of Tyssu, garnishyd wyth stoon and perle in

most sumptuous wyse. Foragain which said Pagend upon the sowth

syde of the strete stood at that tyme, in a hows wheryn that

tyme dwellyd _William Geffrey_ habyrdasher, the king, the

Quene, my Lady the Kingys moder, my Lord of _Oxynfford_, with

many othir Lordys and Ladys, and Perys of this Realm, wyth

also certayn Ambassadors of France lately sent from the French

King; and so passyng the said Estatys, eyther guyvyng to

other due and convenyent Saluts and Countenancs, so sone as

hyr grace was approachid unto the sayd Pagend, the fadyr began

his Spech as folowyth:

_Hunc veneram locum, septeno lumine septum._

_Dignumque_ Arthuri _totidem astra micant._

I am begynyng and ende, that made ech creature

My sylfe, and for my sylfe, but man esspecially

Both male and female, made aftyr myne aun fygure,

Whom I joyned togydyr in Matrimony

And that in Paradyse, declaring opynly

That men shall weddyng in my Chyrch solempnize,

Fygurid and signifyed by the erthly Paradyze.

In thys my Chyrch I am allway recydent

As my chyeff tabernacle, and most chosyn place,

Among these goldyn candylstikkis, which represent

My Catholyk Chyrch, shynyng affor my face,

With lyght of feyth, wisdom, doctryne, and grace,

And mervelously eke enflamyd toward me

Wyth the extyngwible fyre of Charyte.

Wherefore, my welbelovid dowgthyr Katharyn,

Syth I have made yow to myne awn semblance

In my Chyrch to be maried, and your noble Childryn

To regn in this land as in their enherytance,

Se that ye have me in speciall remembrance:

Love me and my Chyrch yowr spiritual modyr,

For ye dispysing that oon, dyspyse that othyr.

Look that ye walk in my precepts, and obey them well:

And here I give you the same blyssyng that I

Gave my well beloved chylder of Israell;

Blyssyd be the fruyt of your bely;

Yower substance and frutys I shall encrease and multyply;

Yower rebellious Enimyes I shall put in yowr hand,

Encreasing in honour both yow and yowr land.

LOVEW. This would be censured now a days as profane to the highest

degree.

TRUM. No doubt on't: Yet you see there was a time when People were not

so nicely censorious in these Matters, but were willing to take things

in the best sence: and then this was thought a noble Entertainment for

the greatest King in _Europe_ (such I esteem King _H._ 7. at that time)

and proper for that Day of mighty Joy and Triumph. And I must farther

observe out of the Lord _Bacon_'s History of _H._ 7. that the chief Man

who had the care of that Days Proceedings was Bishop _Fox_, a grave

Councelor for War or Peace, and also a good Surveyor of Works, and a

good Master of Cerimonies, and it seems he approv'd it. The said Lord

_Bacon_ tells us farther, That whosoever had those Toys in compiling,

they were not altogether Pedantical.

LOVEW. These things however are far from that which we understand by the

name of a Play.

TRUM. It may be so; but these were the Plays of those times. Afterwards

in the Reign of K. _H._ 8. both the Subject and Form of these Plays

began to alter, and have since varied more and more. I have by me, a

thing called _A merry Play between the Pardoner and the Frere, the

Curate and Neybour Pratte_. Printed the 5 of _April_ 1533, which was 24

_H._ 8. (a few Years before the Dissolution of Monasteries). The design

of this Play was to redicule Friers and Pardoners. Of which I'll give

you a taste. To begin it, the Fryer enters with these Words,

Deus hic; the holy Trynyte

Preserue all that now here be.

Dere bretherne, yf ye will consyder

The Cause why I am com hyder,

Ye wolde be glad to knowe my entent;

For I com not hyther for mony nor for rent,

I com not hyther for meat nor for meale,

But I com hyther for your Soules heale, &c.

After a long Preamble, he addresses himself to Preach, when the Pardoner

enters with these Words,

God and St. Leonarde send ye all his grace

As many as ben assembled in this place, &c.

And makes a long Speech, shewing his Bulls and his Reliques, in order to

sell his Pardons for the raising some Money towards the rebuilding,

Of the holy Chappell of sweet saynt Leonarde,

Which late by fyre was destroyed and marde.

Both these speaking together, with continual interruption, at last they

fall together by the Ears. Here the Curate enters (for you must know the

Scene lies in the Church)

Hold your hands; a vengeance on ye both two

That euer ye came hyther to make this ado,

To polute my Chyrche, &c.

_Fri._ Mayster Parson, I marvayll ye will give Lycence

To this false knaue in this Audience

To publish his ragman rolles with lyes.

I desyred hym ywys more than ones or twyse

To hold his peas tyll that I had done,

But he would here no more than the man in the mone.

_Pard._ Why sholde I suffre the, more than thou me?

Mayster parson gaue me lycence before the.

And I wolde thou knowest it I have relykes here,

Other maner stuffe than thou dost bere:

I wyll edefy more with the syght of it,

Than will all thy pratynge of holy wryt;

For that except that the precher himselfe lyve well,

His predycacyon wyll helpe never a dell, &c.

_Pars._ No more of this wranglyng in my Chyrch:

I shrewe your hertys bothe for this lurche.

Is there any blood shed here between these knaues?

Thanked be god they had no stauys,

Nor egotoles, for then it had ben wronge.

Well, ye shall synge another songe.

Here he calls his Neighbour _Prat_ the Constable, with design to

apprehend 'em, and set 'em in the Stocks. But the Frier and Pardoner

prove sturdy, and will not be stockt, but fall upon the poor Parson and

Constable, and bang 'em both so well-favour'dly, that at last they are

glad to let 'em go at liberty: And so the Farce ends with a drawn

Battail. Such as this were the Plays of that Age, acted in Gentlemens

Halls at Christmas, or such like festival times, by the Servants of the

Family, or Strowlers who went about and made it a Trade. It is not

unlikely that[2] Lords in those days, and Persons of eminent Quality,

had their several Gangs of Players, as some have now of Fidlers, to whom

they give Cloaks and Badges. The first Comedy that I have seen that

looks like regular, is _Gammer Gurton's Needle_, writ I think in the

reign of King _Edward_ 6. This is composed of five Acts, the Scenes

unbroken, and the unities of Time and Place duly observed. It was acted

at _Christ_ Colledge in _Cambridge_; there not being as yet any settled

and publick Theaters.

LOVEW. I observe, _Truman_, from what you have said, that Plays in

_England_ had a beginning much like those of _Greece_, the Monologues

and the Pageants drawn from place to place on Wheels, answer exactly to

the Cart of _Thespis_, and the Improvements have been by such little

steps and degrees as among the Ancients, till at last, to use the Words

of Sir _George Buck_ (in his _Third University of_ England) _Dramatick

Poesy is so lively exprest and represented upon the publick Stages and

Theatres of this City, as_ Rome _in the_ Auge _(the highest pitch) of

her Pomp and Glory, never saw it better perform'd, I mean_ (says he) _in

respect of the Action and Art, and not of the Cost and Sumptiousness_.

This he writ about the Year 1631. But can you inform me _Truman_, when

publick Theaters were first erected for this purpose in _London_?

TRUM. Not certainly; but I presume about the beginning of Queen

_Elizabeths_ Reign. For _Stow_ in his Survey of _London_ (which Book was

first printed in the Year 1598) says, _Of late Years, in place of these

Stage-plays_ (i. e. those of Religious Matters) _have been used

Comedies, Tragedies, Interludes, and Histories, both true and feigned;

for the acting whereof certain publick Places, as the Theatre, the

Curtine, &c. have been erected_. And the continuator of _Stows_ Annals,

p. 1004, says, That in Sixty Years before the publication of that Book,

(which was _An. Dom. 1629_) no less than 17 publick Stages, or common

Playhouses, had been built in and about _London_. In which number he

reckons five Inns or Common Osteries, to have been in his time turned

into Play-houses, one Cockpit, St. _Paul_'s singing School, one in the

_Black-friers_, one in the _Whitefriers_, and one in former time at

_Newington_ Buts; and adds, before the space of 60 years past, I never

knew, heard, or read, of any such Theaters, set Stages, or Playhouses,

as have been purposely built within Man's Memory.

LOVEW. After all, I have been told, that Stage-Plays are inconsistant

with the Laws of this Kingdom, and Players made Rogues by Statute.

TRUM. He that told you so strain'd a point of Truth. I never met with

any Law wholly to suppress them: Sometimes indeed they have been

prohibited for a Season; as in times of _Lent_, general Mourning or

publick Calamities, or upon other occasions, when the Government saw

fit. Thus by Proclamation, 7 of _April_, in the first Year of Queen

_Elizabeth_, Plays and Interludes were forbid till _All hallow-tide_

next following. _Hollinshed_, p. 1184. Some Statutes have been made for

their Regulation or Reformation, not general suppression. By the Stat.

39 _Eliz._ c. 4, (which was made _for the suppressing of Rogues,

Vagabonds and sturdy Beggars_) it is enacted,

S. 2, That all persons that be, or utter themselves to be,

Proctors, Procurers, Patent gatherers, or Collectors for

Gaols, Prisons or Hospitals, or Fencers, Barewards, common

players of Interludes and Ministrels, wandering abroad, (other

than Players of Interludes belonging to any Baron of this

Realm, or any other honourable Personage of greater Degree, to

be authoriz'd to play under the Hand and Seal of Arms of such

Baron or Personage) All Juglers, Tinkers, Pedlers, and Petty

chapmen, wandering abroad, all wandring Persons, &c. able

in Body, using loytering, and refusing to work for such

reasonable Wages as is commonly given, &c. These shall be

ajudged and deemed Rogues, Vagabonds and sturdy Beggars, and

punished as such.

LOVEW. But this priviledge of Authorizing or Licensing, is taken away by

the Stat. 1 _Ja._ 1. ch. 7, S. 1, and therefore all of them (as Mr.

_Collier_ says, p. 242) are expresly brought under the foresaid Penalty,

without distinction.

TRUM. If he means all Players, without distinction, 'tis a great

Mistake. For the force of the Queens Statute extends only to _wandring

Players_, and not to such as are the King or Queen's Servants, and

establisht in settled Houses by Royal Authority. On such, the ill

Character of vagrant Players (or as they are now called, Strolers) can

cast no more aspersion, than the wandring Proctors, in the same Statute

mentioned, on those of _Doctors-Commons_. By a Stat. made _3 Ja._ I. ch.

21. It was enacted,

That if any person shall in any Stage-play, Enterlude, Shew,

Maygame, or Pageant, jestingly or prophanely speak or use the

holy name of God, Christ Jesus, the holy Ghost, or of the

Trinity, he shall forfeit for every such offence, 10_l._

The Stat. 1 _Char._ I. ch. 1, enacts,

That no Meetings, Assemblies, or concourse of People shall be

out of their own Parishes, on the Lords day, for any Sports or

Pastimes whatsoever, nor any Bear-bating, Bull-bating,

Enterludes, Common Plays, or other unlawful Exercises and

Pastimes used by any person or persons within their own

Parishes.

These are all the Statutes that I can think of relating to the Stage and

Players; but nothing to suppress them totally, till the two Ordinances

of the Long Parliament, one of the 22 of _October 1647_, the other of

the 11 of _Feb. 1647_. By which all Stage-Plays and Interludes are

absolutely forbid; the Stages, Seats, Galleries, _&c._ to be pulled

down; all Players tho' calling themselves the King or Queens Servants,

if convicted of acting within two Months before such Conviction, to be

punished as Rogues according to Law; the Money received by them to go to

the Poor of the Parish; and every Spectator to Pay 5s. to the use of the

Poor. Also Cock-fighting was prohibited by one of _Oliver_'s Acts of _31

Mar. 1654_. But I suppose no body pretends these things to be Laws; I

could say more on this Subject, but I must break off here, and leave

you, _Lovewit_; my Occasions require it.

LOVE. Farewel, Old Cavalier.

TRUM. 'Tis properly said; we are almost all of us, now, gone and

forgotten.

LETTERS PATENT FOR ERECTING A NEW THEATRE

15 January, 14 Car. II. 1662.

A Copy of the LETTERS PATENTS then granted by King Charles II.

under the Great Seal of England, to SIR WILLIAM D'AVENANT,

KNT. his Heirs and Assigns, for erecting a new Theatre, and

establishing of a company of actors in any place within London

or Westminster, or the Suburbs of the same: And that no other

but this company, and one other company, by virtue of a like

Patent, to THOMAS KILLIGREW, ESQ.; should be permitted within

the said liberties.

CHARLES the second, by the Grace of God, king of England, Scotland,

France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. to all to whom all these

presents shall come, greeting.

[Sidenote: Recites former patents, 14 Car. I. ann. 1639, to Sir Will.

D'avenant.]

Whereas our royal father of glorious memory, by his letters patents

under his great seal of England bearing date at Westminster the 26th day

of March, in the 14th year of his reign, did give and grant unto Sir

William D'avenant (by the name of William D'avenant, gent.) his heirs,

executors, administrators, and assigns, full power, licence, and

authority, That he, they, and every of them, by him and themselves, and

by all and every such person and persons as he or they should depute or

appoint, and his and their laborers, servants, and workmen, should and

might, lawfully, quietly, and peaceably, frame, erect, new build, and

set up, upon a parcel of ground, lying near unto or behind the Three

Kings ordinary in Fleet-street, in the parishes of St. Dunstan's in the

West, London; or in St. Bride's, London; or in either of them, or in any

other ground in or about that place, or in the whole street aforesaid,

then allotted to him for that use; or in any other place that was, or

then after should be assigned or allotted out to the said Sir William

D'avenant by Thomas Earl of Arundel and Surry, then Earl Marshal of

England, or any other commissioner for building, for the time being in

that behalf, a theatre or play-house, with necessary tiring and retiring

rooms, and other places convenient, containing in the whole forty yards

square at the most, wherein plays, musical entertainments, scenes, or

other the like presentments might be presented. And our said royal

father did grant unto the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs,

executors, and administrators and assignes, that it should and might be

lawful to and for him the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs,

executors, administrators, and assignes, from time to time, to gather

together, entertain, govern, privilege, and keep, such and so many

players and persons to exercise actions, musical presentments, scenes,

dancing, and the like, as he the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs,

executors, administrators, or assignes, should think fit and approve for

the said house. And such persons to permit and continue, at and during

the pleasure of the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs, executors,

administrators, or assignes, from time to time, to act plays in such

house so to be by him or them erected, and exercise musick, musical

presentments, scenes, dancing, or other the like, at the same or other

houses or times, or after plays are ended, peaceably and quietly,

without the impeachment or impediment of any person or persons

whatsoever, for the honest recreation of such as should desire to see

the same; and that it should and might be lawful to and for the said Sir

William D'avenant, his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, to

take and receive of such as should resort to see or hear any such plays,

scenes, and entertainments whatsoever, such sum or sums of money as was

or then after, from time to time, should be accustomed to be given or

taken in other play-houses and places for the like plays, scenes,

presentments, and entertainments as in and by the said letters patents,

relation being thereunto had, more at large may appear.

[Sidenote: 13 Car. II. exemplification of said letters patents.]

And whereas we did, by our letters patents under the great seal of

England, bearing date the 16th day of May, in the 13th year of our

reign, exemplifie the said recited letters patents granted by our royal

father, as in and by the same, relation being thereunto had, at large

may appear.

[Sidenote: Surrender of both to the king in the court of Chancery.]

And whereas the said Sir William D'avenant hath surrendered our letters

patents of exemplification, and also the said recited letters patents

granted by our royal father, into our Court of Chancery, to be

cancelled; which surrender we have accepted, and do accept by these

presents.

[Sidenote: New grant to Sir William D'avenant, his heirs and assignes.]

[Sidenote: To erect a theatre in London or Westminster, or the suburbs.]

Know ye that we of our especial grace, certain knowledge, and meer

motion, and upon the humble petition of the said Sir William D'avenant,

and in consideration of the good and faithful service which he the said

Sir William D'avenant hath done unto us, and doth intend to do for the

future; and in consideration of the said surrender, have given and

granted, and by these presents, for us, our heirs and successors, do

give and grant, unto the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs,

executors, administrators, and assigns, full power, licence, and

authority, that he, they, and every one of them, by him and themselves,

and by all and every such person and persons as he or they should depute

or appoint, and his or their labourers, servants, and workmen, shall and

may lawfully, peaceably, and quietly, frame, erect, new build, and set

up, in any place within our cities of London and Westminster, or the

suburbs thereof, where he or they shall find best accommodation for

that purpose; to be assigned and allotted out by the surveyor of our

works; one theatre or play-house, with necessary tiring and retiring

rooms, and other places convenient, of such extent and dimention as the

said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs or assigns shall think fitting:

wherein tragedies, comedies, plays, operas, musick, scenes, and all

other entertainments of the stage whatsoever, may be shewed and

presented.

[Sidenote: And to entertain players, &c. to act without the impeachment

of any person.]

And we do hereby, for us, our heirs and successors, grant unto the said

Sir William D'avenant, his heirs and assigns, full power, licence, and

authority, from time to time, to gather together, entertain, govern,

priviledge and keep, such and so many players and persons to exercise

and act tragedies, comedies, plays, operas, and other performances of

the stage, within the house to be built as aforesaid, or within the

house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, wherein the said Sir William D'avenant

doth now exercise the premises; or within any other house, where he or

they can best be fitted for that purpose, within our cities of London

and Westminster, or the suburbs thereof; which said company shall be the

servants of our dearly beloved brother, James Duke of York, and shall

consist of such number as the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs or

assigns, shall from time to time think meet. And such persons to permit

and continue at and during the pleasure of the said Sir William

D'avenant, his heirs or assigns, from time to time, to act plays and

entertainments of the stage, of all sorts, peaceably and quietly,

without the impeachment or impediment of any person or persons

whatsoever, for the honest recreation of such as shall desire to see the

same.

And that it shall and may be lawful to and for the said Sir William

D'avenant, his heirs and assigns, to take and receive of such our

subjects as shall resort to see or hear any such plays, scenes and

entertainments whatsoever, such sum or sums of money, as either have

accustomably been given and taken in the like kind, or as shall be

thought reasonable by him or them, in regard of the great expences of

scenes, musick, and such new decorations, as have not been formerly

used.

And further, for us, our heirs, and successors, we do hereby give and

grant unto the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs and assigns, full

power to make such allowances out of that which he shall so receive, by

the acting of plays and entertainments of the stage, as aforesaid, to

the actors and other persons imployed in acting, representing, or in any

quality whatsoever, about the said theatre, as he or they shall think

fit; and that the said company shall be under the sole government and

authority of the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs and assigns. And

all scandalous and mutinous persons shall from time to time be by him

and them ejected and disabled from playing in the said theatre.

[Sidenote: That no other company but this, and one other under Mr.

Killigrew, be permitted to act within London or Westminster or the

suburbs.]

And for that we are informed that divers companies of players have taken

upon them to act plays publicly in our said cities of London and

Westminster, or the suburbs thereof, without any authority for that

purpose; we do hereby declare our dislike of the same, and will and

grant that only the said company erected and set up, or to be erected

and set up by the said Sir William D'avenant, his heirs and assigns, by

virtue of these presents, and one other company erected and set up, or

to be erected and set up by Thomas Killigrew, Esq., his heirs or

assigns, and none other, shall from henceforth act or represent

comedies, tragedies, plays, or entertainments of the stage, within our

said cities of London and Westminster, or the suburbs thereof; which

said company to be erected by the said Thomas Killigrew, his heirs or

assigns, shall be subject to his and their government and authority, and

shall be stiled the Company of Us and our Royal Consort.

[Sidenote: No actor to go from one company to the other.]

And the better to preserve amity and correspondency betwixt the said

companies, and that the one may not incroach upon the other by any

indirect means, we will and ordain, That no actor or other person

employed about either of the said theatres, erected by the said Sir

William D'avenant and Thomas Killigrew, or either of them, or deserting

his company, shall be received by the governor or any of the said other

company, or any other person or persons, to be employed in acting, or in

any matter relating to the stage, without the consent and approbation of

the governor of the company, whereof the said person so ejected or

deserting was a member, signified under his hand and seal. And we do by

these presents declare all other company and companies, saving the two

companies before mentioned, to be silenced and suppressed.

[Sidenote: To correct plays, &c.]

And forasmuch as many plays, formerly acted, do contain several

prophane, obscene, and scurrilous passages; and the womens parts therein

have been acted by men in the habits of women, at which some have taken

offence: for the preventing of these abuses for the future, we do hereby

straitly charge and command and enjoyn, that from henceforth no new play

shall be acted by either of the said companies, containing any passages

offensive to piety and good manners, nor any old or revived play,

containing any such offensive passages as aforesaid, until the same

shall be corrected and purged, by the said masters or governors of the

said respective companies, from all such offensive and scandalous

passages, as aforesaid. And we do likewise permit and give leave that

all the womens parts to be acted in either of the said two companies for

the time to come, may be performed by women, so long as these

recreations, which, by reason of the abuses aforesaid, were scandalous

and offensive, may by such reformation be esteemed, not only harmless

delights, but useful and instructive representations of humane life, to

such of our good subjects as shall resort to see the same.

[Sidenote: These letters patents to be good and effectual in the law,

according to the true meaning of the same, although, &c.]

And these our letters patents, or the inrolment thereof, shall be in all

things good and effectual in the law, according to the true intent and

meaning of the same, any thing in these presents contained, or any law,

statute, act, ordinance proclamation, provision, restriction, or any

other matter, cause, or thing whatsoever to the contrary, in any wise

notwithstanding; although express mention of the true yearly value, or

certainty of the premises, or of any of them, or of any other gifts or

grants by us, or by any of our progenitors or predecessors, heretofore

made to the said Sir William D'avenant in these presents, is not made,

or any other statute, act, ordinance, provision, proclamation, or

restriction heretofore had, made, enacted, ordained, or provided, or any

other matter, cause, or thing whatsoever to the contrary thereof, in any

wise notwithstanding. In witness whereof, we have caused these our

letters to be made patents. Witness our self at Westminster, the

fifteenth day of January, in the fourteenth year of our reign.

By the King.

HOWARD.

AN APOLOGY

FOR THE LIFE OF

_Mr._ COLLEY CIBBER, _Comedian_,

AND

Late PATENTEE of the _Theatre-Royal_.

_With an Historical View of the_ STAGE _during

his_ OWN TIME.

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

------------------------------_Hoc est

Vivere bis, vitâ posse priore frui._ Mart. lib. 2.

_When Years no more of active Life retain,

'Tis Youth renew'd, to laugh 'em o'er again._ Anonym.

The SECOND EDITION.

_LONDON:_

Printed by JOHN WATTS for the AUTHOR:

And Sold by W. LEWIS in _Russel-Street,_ near

_Convent--Garden._

MDCCXL.

TO A CERTAIN GENTLEMAN.[3]

_SIR,_

Because I know it would give you less Concern to find your Name in an

impertinent Satyr, than before the daintiest Dedication of a modern

Author, I conceal it.

Let me talk never so idly to you, this way; you are, at least, under no

necessity of taking it to yourself: Nor when I boast of your favours,

need you blush to have bestow'd them. Or I may now give you all the

Attributes that raise a wise and good-natur'd Man to Esteem and

Happiness, and not be censured as a Flatterer by my own or your Enemies.

----I place my own first; because as they are the greater Number, I am

afraid of not paying the greater Respect to them. Yours, if such there

are, I imagine are too well-bred to declare themselves: But as there is

no Hazard or visible Terror in an Attack upon my defenceless Station, my

Censurers have generally been Persons of an intrepid Sincerity. Having

therefore shut the Door against them while I am thus privately

addressing you, I have little to apprehend from either of them.

Under this Shelter, then, I may safely tell you, That the greatest

Encouragement I have had to publish this Work, has risen from the

several Hours of Patience you have lent me at the Reading it. It is

true, I took the Advantage of your Leisure in the Country, where

moderate Matters serve for Amusement; and there, indeed, how far your

Good-nature for an old Acquaintance, or your Reluctance to put the

Vanity of an Author out of countenance, may have carried you, I cannot

be sure; and yet Appearances give me stronger Hopes: For was not the

Complaisance of a whole Evening's Attention as much as an Author of more

Importance ought to have expected? Why then was I desired the next Day

to give you a second Lecture? Or why was I kept a third Day with you, to

tell you more of the same Story? If these Circumstances have made me

vain, shall I say, Sir, you are accountable for them? No, Sir, I will

rather so far flatter myself as to suppose it possible, That your having

been a Lover of the Stage (and one of those few good Judges who know the

Use and Value of it, under a right Regulation) might incline you to

think so copious an Account of it a less tedious Amusement, than it may

naturally be to others of different good Sense, who may have less

Concern or Taste for it. But be all this as it may; the Brat is now

born, and rather than see it starve upon the Bare Parish Provision, I

chuse thus clandestinely to drop it at your Door, that it may exercise

One of your Many Virtues, your Charity, in supporting it.

If the World were to know into whose Hands I have thrown it, their

Regard to its Patron might incline them to treat it as one of his

Family: But in the Consciousness of what I _am_, I chuse not, Sir, to

say who you _are_. If your Equal in Rank were to do publick Justice to

your Character, then, indeed, the Concealment of your Name might be an

unnecessary Diffidence: But am I, Sir, of Consequence enough, in any

Guise, to do Honour to Mr. ----? Were I to set him in the most laudable

Lights that Truth and good Sense could give him, or his own Likeness

would require, my officious Mite would be lost in that general Esteem

and Regard which People of the first Consequence, even of different

Parties, have a Pleasure in paying him. Encomiums to Superiors from

Authors of lower Life, as they are naturally liable to Suspicion, can

add very little Lustre to what before was visible to the publick Eye:

Such Offerings (to use the Stile they are generally dressed in) like

_Pagan_ Incense, evaporate on the Altar, and rather gratify the Priest

than the Deity.

But you, Sir, are to be approached in Terms within the Reach of common

Sense: The honest Oblation of a chearful Heart is as much as you desire

or I am able to bring you: A Heart that has just Sense enough to mix

Respect with Intimacy, and is never more delighted than when your rural

Hours of Leisure admit me, with all my laughing Spirits, to be my idle

self, and in the whole Day's Possession of you! Then, indeed, I have

Reason to be vain; I am, then, distinguish'd by a Pleasure too great to

be conceal'd, and could almost pity the Man of graver Merit that dares

not receive it with the same unguarded Transport! This Nakedness of

Temper the World may place in what Rank of Folly or Weakness they

please; but 'till Wisdom can give me something that will make me more

heartily happy, I am content to be gaz'd at as I am, without lessening

my Respect for those whose Passions may be more soberly covered.

Yet, Sir, will I not deceive you; 'tis not the Lustre of your publick

Merit, the Affluence of your Fortune, your high Figure in Life, nor

those honourable Distinctions, which you had rather deserve than be told

of, that have so many Years made my plain Heart hang after you: These

are but incidental Ornaments, that, 'tis true, may be of Service to you

in the World's Opinion; and though, as one among the Crowd, I may

rejoice that Providence has so deservedly bestow'd them; yet my

particular Attachment has risen from a meer natural and more engaging

Charm, The Agreeable Companion! Nor is my Vanity half so much gratified

in the _Honour_, as my Sense is in the _Delight_ of your Society! When I

see you lay aside the Advantages of Superiority, and by your own

Chearfulness of Spirits call out all that Nature has given me to meet

them; then 'tis I taste you! then Life runs high! I desire! I possess

you!

Yet, Sir, in this distinguish'd Happiness I give not up my farther Share

of that Pleasure, or of that Right I have to look upon you with the

publick Eye, and to join in the general Regard so unanimously pay'd to

that uncommon Virtue, your _Integrity_! This, Sir, the World allows so

conspicuous a Part of your Character, that, however invidious the Merit,

neither the rude License of Detraction, nor the Prejudice of Party, has

ever once thrown on it the least Impeachment or Reproach. This is that

commanding Power that, in publick Speaking, makes you heard with such

Attention! This it is that discourages and keeps silent the Insinuations

of Prejudice and Suspicion; and almost renders your Eloquence an

unnecessary Aid to your Assertions: Even your Opponents, conscious of

your _Integrity_, hear you rather as a Witness than an Orator--But

this, Sir, is drawing you too near the Light, _Integrity_ is too

particular a Virtue to be cover'd with a general Application. Let me

therefore only talk to you, as at _Tusculum_ (for so I will call that

sweet Retreat, which your own Hands have rais'd) where like the fam'd

Orator of old, when publick Cares permit, you pass so many rational,

unbending Hours: There! and at such Times, to have been admitted, still

plays in my Memory more like a fictitious than a real Enjoyment! How

many golden Evenings, in that Theatrical Paradise of water'd Lawns and

hanging Groves, have I walk'd and prated down the Sun in social

Happiness! Whether the Retreat of _Cicero_, in Cost, Magnificence, or

curious Luxury of Antiquities, might not out-blaze the _simplex

Munditiis_, the modest Ornaments of your _Villa_, is not within my

reading to determine: But that the united Power of Nature, Art, or

Elegance of Taste, could have thrown so many varied Objects into a more

delightful Harmony, is beyond my Conception.

When I consider you in this View, and as the Gentleman of Eminence

surrounded with the general Benevolence of Mankind; I rejoice, Sir, for

you and for myself; to see _You_ in this particular Light of Merit, and

myself sometimes admitted to my more than equal Share of you.

If this _Apology_ for my past Life discourages you not from holding me

in your usual Favour, let me quit this greater Stage, the World,

whenever I may, I shall think This the best-acted Part of any I have

undertaken, since you first condescended to laugh with,

_SIR_,

_Your most obedient_,

_most obliged, and_

_most humble Servant_,

COLLEY CIBBER.

Novemb. 6.

1739.

AN APOLOGY FOR THE LIFE OF MR. COLLEY CIBBER, &c. [4]

CHAPTER I.

[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]

_The Introduction. The Author's Birth. Various Fortune at

School. Not lik'd by those he lov'd there. Why. A Digression

upon Raillery. The Use and Abuse of it. The Comforts of Folly.

Vanity of Greatness. Laughing, no bad Philosophy._

You know, Sir, I have often told you that one time or other I should

give the Publick some Memoirs of my own Life; at which you have never

fail'd to laugh, like a Friend, without saying a word to dissuade me

from it; concluding, I suppose, that such a wild Thought could not

possibly require a serious Answer. But you see I was in earnest. And now

you will say the World will find me, under my own Hand, a weaker Man

than perhaps I may have pass'd for, even among my Enemies.--With all my

Heart! my Enemies will then read me with Pleasure, and you, perhaps,

with Envy, when you find that Follies, without the Reproach of Guilt

upon them, are not inconsistent with Happiness.--But why make my Follies

publick? Why not? I have pass'd my Time very pleasantly with them, and I

don't recollect that they have ever been hurtful to any other Man

living. Even admitting they were injudiciously chosen, would it not be

Vanity in me to take Shame to myself for not being found a Wise Man?

Really, Sir, my Appetites were in too much haste to be happy, to throw

away my Time in pursuit of a Name I was sure I could never arrive at.

Now the Follies I frankly confess I look upon as in some measure

discharged; while those I conceal are still keeping the Account open

between me and my Conscience. To me the Fatigue of being upon a

continual Guard to hide them is more than the Reputation of being

without them can repay. If this be Weakness, _defendit numerus_, I have

such comfortable Numbers on my side, that were all Men to blush that are

not Wise, I am afraid, in Ten, Nine Parts of the World ought to be out

of Countenance:[5] But since that sort of Modesty is what they don't care

to come into, why should I be afraid of being star'd at for not being

particular? Or if the Particularity lies in owning my Weakness, will my

wisest Reader be so inhuman as not to pardon it? But if there should be

such a one, let me at least beg him to shew me that strange Man who is

perfect! Is any one more unhappy, more ridiculous, than he who is always

labouring to be thought so, or that is impatient when he is not thought

so? Having brought myself to be easy under whatever the World may say of

my Undertaking, you may still ask me why I give myself all this trouble?

Is it for Fame, or Profit to myself,[6] or Use or Delight to others? For

all these Considerations I have neither Fondness nor Indifference: If I

obtain none of them, the Amusement, at worst, will be a Reward that must

constantly go along with the Labour. But behind all this there is

something inwardly inciting, which I cannot express in few Words; I must

therefore a little make bold with your Patience.

A Man who has pass'd above Forty Years of his Life upon a Theatre, where

he has never appear'd to be Himself, may have naturally excited the

Curiosity of his Spectators to know what he really was when in no body's

Shape but his own; and whether he, who by his Profession had so long

been ridiculing his Benefactors, might not, when the Coat of his

Profession was off, deserve to be laugh'd at himself; or from his being

often seen in the most flagrant and immoral Characters, whether he might

not see as great a Rogue when he look'd into the Glass himself as when

he held it to others.

It was doubtless from a Supposition that this sort of Curiosity wou'd

compensate their Labours that so many hasty Writers have been encourag'd

to publish the Lives of the late Mrs. _Oldfield_, Mr. _Wilks_, and Mr.

_Booth_, in less time after their Deaths than one could suppose it cost

to transcribe them.[7]

Now, Sir, when my Time comes, lest they shou'd think it worth while to

handle my Memory with the same Freedom, I am willing to prevent its

being so odly besmear'd (or at best but flatly white-wash'd) by taking

upon me to give the Publick This, as true a Picture of myself as natural

Vanity will permit me to draw: For to promise you that I shall never be

vain, were a Promise that, like a Looking-glass too large, might break

itself in the making: Nor am I sure I ought wholly to avoid that

Imputation, because if Vanity be one of my natural Features, the

Portrait wou'd not be like me without it. In a Word, I may palliate and

soften as much as I please; but upon an honest Examination of my Heart,

I am afraid the same Vanity which makes even homely People employ

Painters to preserve a flattering Record of their Persons, has seduced

me to print off this _Chiaro Oscuro_ of my Mind.

And when I have done it, you may reasonably ask me of what Importance

can the History of my private Life be to the Publick? To this, indeed, I

can only make you a ludicrous Answer, which is, That the Publick very

well knows my Life has not been a private one; that I have been employ'd

in their Service ever since many of their Grandfathers were young Men;

And tho' I have voluntarily laid down my Post, they have a sort of Right

to enquire into my Conduct (for which they have so well paid me) and to

call for the Account of it during my Share of Administration in the

State of the Theatre. This Work, therefore, which I hope they will not

expect a Man of hasty Head shou'd confine to any regular Method: (For I

shall make no scruple of leaving my History when I think a Digression

may make it lighter for my Reader's Digestion.) This Work, I say, shall

not only contain the various Impressions of my Mind, (as in _Louis the

Fourteenth_ his Cabinet you have seen the growing Medals of his Person

from Infancy to Old Age,) but shall likewise include with them the

_Theatrical History of my Own Time_, from my first Appearance on the

Stage to my last _Exit_.[8]

If then what I shall advance on that Head may any ways contribute to the

Prosperity or Improvement of the Stage in Being, the Publick must of

consequence have a Share in its Utility.

This, Sir, is the best Apology I can make for being my own Biographer.

Give me leave therefore to open the first Scene of my Life from the very

Day I came into it; and tho' (considering my Profession) I have no

reason to be asham'd of my Original; yet I am afraid a plain dry Account

of it will scarce admit of a better Excuse than what my brother _Bays_

makes for Prince _Prettyman_ in the _Rehearsal_, viz. _I only do it for

fear I should be thought to be no body's Son at all_;[9] for if I have

led a worthless Life, the Weight of my Pedigree will not add an Ounce to

my intrinsic Value. But be the Inference what it will, the simple Truth

is this.

I was born in _London_, on the _6th_ of _November 1671_,[10] in

_Southampton-Street_, facing _Southampton-House_.[11]

My Father, _Caius Gabriel Cibber_,[12] was a Native of _Holstein_, who

came into _England_ some time before the Restoration of King _Charles_

II. to follow his Profession, which was that of a Statuary, _&c._ The

_Basso Relievo_ on the Pedestal of the Great Column in the City, and the

two Figures of the _Lunaticks_, the _Raving_ and the _Melancholy_, over

the Gates of _Bethlehem-Hospital_,[13] are no ill Monuments of his Fame

as an artist. My Mother was the Daughter of _William Colley_, Esq; of a

very ancient Family of _Glaiston_ in _Rutlandshire_, where she was born.

My Mother's Brother, _Edward Colley_, Esq; (who gave me my Christian

Name) being the last Heir Male of it, the Family is now extinct. I shall

only add, that in _Wright's_ History of _Rutlandshire_, publish'd in

1684, the _Colley's_ are recorded as Sheriffs and Members of Parliament

from the Reign of _Henry_ VII. to the latter End of _Charles_ I., in

whose Cause chiefly Sir _Antony Colley_, my Mother's Grandfather, sunk

his Estate from Three Thousand to about Three Hundred _per Annum_.[14]

In the Year 1682, at little more than Ten Years of Age, I was sent to

the Free-School of _Grantham_ in _Lincolnshire_, where I staid till I

got through it, from the lowest Form to the uppermost. And such Learning

as that School could give me is the most I pretend to (which, tho' I

have not utterly forgot, I cannot say I have much improv'd by Study) but

even there I remember I was the same inconsistent Creature I have been

ever since! always in full Spirits, in some small Capacity to do right,

but in a more frequent Alacrity to do wrong; and consequently often

under a worse Character than I wholly deserv'd: A giddy Negligence

always possess'd me, and so much, that I remember I was once whipp'd for

my _Theme_, tho' my Master told me, at the same time, what was good of

it was better than any Boy's in the Form. And (whatever Shame it may be

to own it) I have observ'd the same odd Fate has frequently attended the

course of my later Conduct in Life. The unskilful openness, or in plain

Terms, the Indiscretion I have always acted with from my Youth, has

drawn more ill-will towards me, than Men of worse Morals and more Wit

might have met with. My Ignorance and want of Jealousy of Mankind has

been so strong, that it is with Reluctance I even yet believe any Person

I am acquainted with can be capable of Envy, Malice, or Ingratitude:[15]

And to shew you what a Mortification it was to me, in my very boyish

Days, to find myself mistaken, give me leave to tell you a School Story.

A great Boy, near the Head taller than myself, in some wrangle at Play

had insulted me; upon which I was fool-hardy enough to give him a Box on

the Ear; the Blow was soon return'd with another that brought me under

him and at his Mercy. Another Lad, whom I really lov'd and thought a

good-natur'd one, cry'd out with some warmth to my Antagonist (while I

was down) Beat him, beat him soundly! This so amaz'd me that I lost all

my Spirits to resist, and burst into Tears! When the Fray was over I

took my Friend aside, and ask'd him, How he came to be so earnestly

against me? To which, with some glouting[16] Confusion, he reply'd,

Because you are always jeering and making a Jest of me to every Boy in

the School. Many a Mischief have I brought upon myself by the same Folly

in riper Life. Whatever Reason I had to reproach my Companion's

declaring against me, I had none to wonder at it while I was so often

hurting him: Thus I deserv'd his Enmity by my not having Sense enough to

know I _had_ hurt him; and he hated me because he had not Sense enough

to know that I never _intended_ to hurt him.

As this is the first remarkable Error of my Life I can recollect, I

cannot pass it by without throwing out some further Reflections upon it;

whether flat or spirited, new or common, false or true, right or wrong,

they will be still my own, and consequently like me; I will therefore

boldly go on; for I am only oblig'd to give you my _own,_ and not a

_good_ Picture, to shew as well the Weakness as the Strength of my

Understanding. It is not on what I write, but on my Reader's Curiosity I

relie to be read through: At worst, tho' the Impartial may be tir'd, the

Ill-natur'd (no small number) I know will see the bottom of me.

What I observ'd then, upon my having undesignedly provok'd my

School-Friend into an Enemy, is a common Case in Society; Errors of this

kind often sour the Blood of Acquaintance into an inconceivable

Aversion, where it is little suspected. It is not enough to say of your

Raillery that you intended no offence; if the Person you offer it to has

either a wrong Head, or wants a Capacity to make that distinction, it

may have the same effect as the Intention of the grossest Injury: And in

reality, if you know his Parts are too slow to return it in kind, it is

a vain and idle Inhumanity, and sometimes draws the Aggressor into

difficulties not easily got out of: Or to give the Case more scope,

suppose your Friend may have a passive Indulgence for your Mirth, if you

find him silent at it; tho' you were as intrepid as _Cæsar_, there can

be no excuse for your not leaving it off. When you are conscious that

your Antagonist can give as well as take, then indeed the smarter the

Hit the more agreeable the Party: A Man of chearful Sense among Friends

will never be grave upon an Attack of this kind, but rather thank you

that you have given him a Right to be even with you: There are few Men

(tho' they may be Masters of both) that on such occasions had not rather

shew their Parts than their Courage, and the Preference is just; a

Bull-Dog may have one, and only a Man can have the other. Thus it

happens that in the coarse Merriment of common People, when the Jest

begins to swell into earnest; for want of this Election you may observe,

he that has least wit generally gives the first Blow. Now, as among the

Better sort, a readiness of Wit is not always a Sign of intrinsick

Merit; so the want of that readiness is no Reproach to a Man of plain

Sense and Civility, who therefore (methinks) should never have these

lengths of Liberty taken with him. Wit there becomes absurd, if not

insolent; ill-natur'd I am sure it is, which Imputation a generous

Spirit will always avoid, for the same Reason that a Man of real Honour

will never send a Challenge to a Cripple. The inward Wounds that are

given by the inconsiderate Insults of Wit to those that want it, are as

dangerous as those given by Oppression to Inferiors; as long in healing,

and perhaps never forgiven. There is besides (and little worse than

this) a mutual Grossness in Raillery that sometimes is more painful to

the Hearers that are not concern'd in it than to the Persons engaged. I

have seen a couple of these clumsy Combatants drub one another with as

little Manners or Mercy as if they had two Flails in their Hands;

Children at Play with Case-knives could not give you more Apprehension

of their doing one another a Mischief. And yet, when the Contest has

been over, the Boobys have look'd round them for Approbation, and upon

being told they were admirably well match'd, have sat down (bedawb'd as

they were) contented at making it a drawn Battle. After all that I have

said, there is no clearer way of giving Rules for Raillery than by

Example.

There are two Persons now living, who tho' very different in their

manner, are, as far as my Judgment reaches, complete Masters of it; one

of a more polite and extensive Imagination, the other of a Knowledge

more closely useful to the Business of Life: The one gives you perpetual

Pleasure, and seems always to be taking it; the other seems to take none

till his Business is over, and then gives you as much as if Pleasure

were his only Business. The one enjoys his Fortune, the other thinks it

first necessary to make it; though that he will enjoy it then I cannot

be positive, because when a Man has once pick'd up more than he wants,

he is apt to think it a Weakness to suppose he has enough. But as I

don't remember ever to have seen these Gentlemen in the same Company,

you must give me leave to take them separately.[17]

The first of them, then, has a Title, and----no matter what; I am not

to speak of the great, but the happy part of his Character, and in this

one single light; not of his being an illustrious, but a delightful

Companion.

In Conversation he is seldom silent but when he is attentive, nor ever

speaks without exciting the Attention of others; and tho' no Man might

with less Displeasure to his Hearers engross the Talk of the Company, he

has a Patience in his Vivacity that chuses to divide it, and rather

gives more Freedom than he takes; his sharpest Replies having a mixture

of Politeness that few have the command of; his Expression is easy,

short, and clear; a stiff or studied Word never comes from him; it is in

a simplicity of Style that he gives the highest Surprize, and his Ideas

are always adapted to the Capacity and Taste of the Person he speaks to:

Perhaps you will understand me better if I give you a particular

Instance of it. A Person at the University, who from being a Man of Wit

easily became his Acquaintance there, from that Acquaintance found no

difficulty in being made one of his Chaplains: This Person afterwards

leading a Life that did no great Honour to his Cloth, obliged his Patron

to take some gentle notice of it; but as his Patron knew the Patient was

squeamish, he was induced to sweeten the Medicine to his Taste, and

therefore with a smile of good humour told him, that if to the many

Vices he had already, he would give himself the trouble to add one more,

he did not doubt but his Reputation might still be set up again. Sir

_Crape_, who could have no Aversion to so pleasant a Dose, desiring to

know what it might be, was answered, _Hypocrisy, Doctor, only a little

Hypocrisy_! This plain Reply can need no Comment; but _ex pede

Herculem_, he is every where proportionable. I think I have heard him

since say, the Doctor thought Hypocrisy so detestable a Sin that he dy'd

without committing it. In a word, this Gentleman gives Spirit to Society

the Moment he comes into it, and whenever he leaves it they who have

Business have then leisure to go about it.

Having often had the Honour to be my self the But of his Raillery, I

must own I have received more Pleasure from his lively manner of raising

the Laugh against me, than I could have felt from the smoothest flattery

of a serious Civility. Tho' Wit flows from him with as much ease as

common Sense from another, he is so little elated with the Advantage he

may have over you, that whenever your good Fortune gives it against him,

he seems more pleas'd with it on your side than his own. The only

advantage he makes of his Superiority of Rank is, that by always waving

it himself, his inferior finds he is under the greater Obligation not to

forget it.

When the Conduct of social Wit is under such Regulations, how delightful

must those _Convivia,_ those Meals of Conversation be, where such a

Member presides; who can with so much ease (as _Shakespear_ phrases it)

_set the Table in a roar_.[18] I am in no pain that these imperfect

Out-lines will be apply'd to the Person I mean, because every one who

has the Happiness to know him must know how much more in this particular

Attitude is wanting to be like him.

The other Gentleman, whose bare Interjections of Laughter have humour in

them, is so far from having a Title that he has lost his real name,

which some Years ago he suffer'd his Friends to railly him out of; in

lieu of which they have equipp'd him with one they thought had a better

sound in good Company. He is the first Man of so sociable a Spirit that

I ever knew capable of quitting the Allurements of Wit and Pleasure for

a strong Application to Business; in his Youth (for there was a Time

when he was young) he set out in all the hey-day Expences of a modish

Man of Fortune; but finding himself over-weighted with Appetites, he

grew restiff, kick'd up in the middle of the Course, and turn'd his back

upon his Frolicks abroad, to think of improving his Estate at home: In

order to which he clapt Collars upon his Coach-Horses, and that their

Mettle might not run over other People, he ty'd a Plough to their Tails,

which tho' it might give them a more slovenly Air, would enable him to

keep them fatter in a foot pace, with a whistling Peasant beside them,

than in a full trot, with a hot-headed Coachman behind them. In these

unpolite Amusements he has laugh'd like a Rake and look'd about him like

a Farmer for many Years. As his Rank and Station often find him in the

best Company, his easy Humour, whenever he is called to it, can still

make himself the Fiddle of it.

And tho' some say he looks upon the Follies of the World like too severe

a Philosopher, yet he rather chuses to laugh than to grieve at them; to

pass his time therefore more easily in it, he often endeavours to

conceal himself by assuming the Air and Taste of a Man in fashion; so

that his only Uneasiness seems to be, that he cannot quite prevail with

his Friends to think him a worse Manager than he really is; for they

carry their Raillery to such a height that it sometimes rises to a

Charge of downright Avarice against him. Upon which Head it is no easy

matter to be more merry upon him than he will be upon himself. Thus

while he sets that Infirmity in a pleasant Light, he so disarms your

Prejudice, that if he has it not, you can't find in your Heart to wish

he were without it. Whenever he is attack'd where he seems to lie so

open, if his Wit happens not to be ready for you, he receives you with

an assenting Laugh, till he has gain'd time enough to whet it sharp

enough for a Reply, which seldom turns out to his disadvantage. If you

are too strong for him (which may possibly happen from his being oblig'd

to defend the weak side of the Question) his last Resource is to join in

the Laugh till he has got himself off by an ironical Applause of your

Superiority.

If I were capable of Envy, what I have observ'd of this Gentleman would

certainly incline me to it; for sure to get through the necessary Cares

of Life with a Train of Pleasures at our Heels in vain calling after us,

to give a constant Preference to the Business of the Day, and yet be

able to laugh while we are about it, to make even Society the

subservient Reward of it, is a State of Happiness which the gravest

Precepts of moral Wisdom will not easily teach us to exceed. When I

speak of Happiness, I go no higher than that which is contain'd in the

World we now tread upon; and when I speak of Laughter, I don't simply

mean that which every Oaf is capable of, but that which has its sensible

Motive and proper Season, which is not more limited than recommended by

that indulgent Philosophy,

_Cum ratione insanire._[19]

When I look into my present Self, and afterwards cast my Eye round all

my Hopes, I don't see any one Pursuit of them that should so reasonably

rouze me out of a Nod in my Great Chair, as a call to those agreeable

Parties I have sometimes the Happiness to mix with, where I always

assert the equal Liberty of leaving them, when my Spirits have done

their best with them.

[Illustration: CAIUS CIBBER.]

Now, Sir, as I have been making my way for above Forty Years through a

Crowd of Cares, (all which, by the Favour of Providence, I have honestly

got rid of) is it a time of Day for me to leave off these Fooleries, and

to set up a new Character? Can it be worth my while to waste my Spirits,

to bake my Blood, with serious Contemplations, and perhaps impair my

Health, in the fruitless Study of advancing myself into the better

Opinion of those very--very few Wise Men that are as old as I am? No,

the Part I have acted in real Life shall be all of a piece,

----_Servetur ad imum,

Qualis ab incepto processerit._ Hor.[20]

I will not go out of my Character by straining to be wiser than I _can_

be, or by being more affectedly pensive than I _need_ be; whatever I am,

Men of Sense will know me to be, put on what Disguise I will; I can no

more put off my Follies than my Skin; I have often try'd, but they stick

too close to me; nor am I sure my Friends are displeased with them; for,

besides that in this Light I afford them frequent matter of Mirth, they

may possibly be less uneasy at their _own_ Foibles when they have so old

a Precedent to keep them in Countenance: Nay, there are some frank

enough to confess they envy what they laugh at; and when I have seen

others, whose Rank and Fortune have laid a sort of Restraint upon their

Liberty of pleasing their Company by pleasing themselves, I have said

softly to myself,----Well, there is some Advantage in having neither

Rank nor Fortune! Not but there are among them a third Sort, who have

the particular Happiness of unbending into the very Wantonness of

Good-humour without depreciating their Dignity: He that is not Master of

that Freedom, let his Condition be never so exalted, must still want

something to come up to the Happiness of his Inferiors who enjoy it. If

_Socrates_ cou'd take pleasure in playing at _Even or Odd_ with his

Children, or _Agesilaus_ divert himself in riding the Hobby-horse with

them, am I oblig'd to be as eminent as either of them before I am as

frolicksome? If the Emperor _Adrian_, near his death, cou'd play with

his very Soul, his _Animula_, &c. and regret that it cou'd be no longer

companionable; if Greatness at the same time was not the Delight he was

so loth to part with, sure then these chearful Amusements I am

contending for must have no inconsiderable share in our Happiness; he

that does not chuse to live his own way, suffers others to chuse for

him. Give me the Joy I always took in the End of an old Song,

_My Mind, my Mind is a Kingdom to me!_[21]

If I can please myself with my own Follies, have not I a plentiful

Provision for Life? If the World thinks me a Trifler, I don't desire to

break in upon their Wisdom; let them call me any Fool but an Unchearful

one; I live as I write; while my Way amuses me, it's as well as I wish it;

when another writes better, I can like him too, tho' he shou'd not like

me. Not our great Imitator of _Horace_ himself can have more Pleasure in

writing his Verses than I have in reading them, tho' I sometimes find

myself there (as _Shakespear_ terms it) _dispraisingly_[22] spoken of:[23]

If he is a little free with me, I am generally in good Company, he is as

blunt with my Betters; so that even here I might laugh in my turn. My

Superiors, perhaps, may be mended by him; but, for my part, I own myself

incorrigible: I look upon my Follies as the best part of my Fortune, and

am more concern'd to be a good Husband of Them, than of That; nor do I

believe I shall ever be rhim'd out of them. And, if I don't mistake, I am

supported in my way of thinking by _Horace_ himself, who, in excuse of a

loose Writer, says,

_Prætulerim scriptor delirus, inersque videri,

Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant,

Quam sapere, et ringi_----[24]

which, to speak of myself as a loose Philosopher, I have thus ventur'd

to imitate:

_Me, while my laughing Follies can deceive,

Blest in the dear Delirium let me live,

Rather than wisely know my Wants and grieve._

We had once a merry Monarch of our own, who thought chearfulness so

valuable a Blessing, that he would have quitted one of his Kingdoms

where he cou'd not enjoy it; where, among many other Conditions they had

ty'd him to, his sober Subjects wou'd not suffer him to laugh on a

_Sunday_; and tho' this might not be the avow'd Cause of his

Elopement,[25] I am not sure, had he had no other, that this alone

might not have serv'd his turn; at least, he has my hearty Approbation

either way; for had I been under the same Restriction, tho' my staying

were to have made me his Successor, I shou'd rather have chosen to

follow him.

How far his Subjects might be in the right is not my Affair to

determine; perhaps they were wiser than the Frogs in the Fable, and

rather chose to have a Log than a Stork for their King; yet I hope it

will be no Offence to say that King _Log_ himself must have made but a

very simple Figure in History.

The Man who chuses never to laugh, or whose becalm'd Passions know no

Motion, seems to me only in the quiet State of a green Tree; he

vegetates, 'tis true, but shall we say he lives? Now, Sir, for

Amusement--Reader, take heed! for I find a strong impulse to talk

impertinently; if therefore you are not as fond of seeing, as I am of

shewing myself in all my Lights, you may turn over two Leaves together,

and leave what follows to those who have more Curiosity, and less to do

with their Time, than you have.--As I was saying then, let us, for

Amusement, advance this, or any other Prince, to the most glorious

Throne, mark out his Empire in what Clime you please, fix him on the

highest Pinnacle of unbounded Power; and in that State let us enquire

into his degree of Happiness; make him at once the Terror and the Envy

of his Neighbours, send his Ambition out to War, and gratify it with

extended Fame and Victories; bring him in triumph home, with great

unhappy Captives behind him, through the Acclamations of his People, to

repossess his Realms in Peace. Well, when the Dust has been brusht from

his Purple, what will he do next? Why, this envy'd Monarch (who we will

allow to have a more exalted Mind than to be delighted with the trifling

Flatteries of a congratulating Circle) will chuse to retire, I presume,

to enjoy in private the Contemplation of his Glory; an Amusement, you

will say, that well becomes his Station! But there, in that pleasing

Rumination, when he has made up his new Account of Happiness, how much,

pray, will be added to the Balance more than as it stood before his last

Expedition? From what one Article will the Improvement of it appear?

Will it arise from the conscious Pride of having done his weaker Enemy

an Injury? Are his Eyes so dazzled with false Glory that he thinks it a

less Crime in him to break into the Palace of his Princely Neighbour,

because he gave him time to defend it, than for a Subject feloniously to

plunder the House of a private Man? Or is the Outrage of Hunger and

Necessity more enormous than the Ravage of Ambition? Let us even suppose

the wicked Usage of the World as to that Point may keep his Conscience

quiet; still, what is he to do with the infinite Spoil that his imperial

Rapine has brought home? Is he to sit down and vainly deck himself with

the Jewels which he has plunder'd from the Crown of another, whom

Self-defence had compell'd to oppose him? No, let us not debase his

Glory into so low a Weakness. What Appetite, then, are these shining

Treasures food for? Is their vast Value in seeing his vulgar Subjects

stare at them, wise Men smile at them, or his Children play with them?

Or can the new Extent of his Dominions add a Cubit to his Happiness? Was

not his Empire wide enough before to do good in? And can it add to his

Delight that now no Monarch has such room to do mischief in? But

farther; if even the great _Augustus_, to whose Reign such Praises are

given, cou'd not enjoy his Days of Peace free from the Terrors of

repeated Conspiracies, which lost him more Quiet to suppress than his

Ambition cost him to provoke them: What human Eminence is secure? In

what private Cabinet then must this wondrous Monarch lock up his

Happiness that common Eyes are never to behold it? Is it, like his

Person, a Prisoner to its own Superiority? Or does he at last poorly

place it in the Triumph of his injurious Devastations? One Moment's

Search into himself will plainly shew him that real and reasonable

Happiness can have no Existence without Innocence and Liberty. What a

Mockery is Greatness without them? How lonesome must be the Life of

that Monarch who, while he governs only by being fear'd, is restrain'd

from letting down his Grandeur sometimes to forget himself and to

humanize him into the Benevolence and Joy of Society? To throw off his

cumbersome Robe of Majesty, to be a Man without disguise, to have a

sensible Taste of Life in its Simplicity, till he confess from the sweet

Experience that _dulce est desipere in loco_[26] was no Fool's

Philosophy. Or if the gawdy Charms of Pre-eminence are so strong that

they leave him no Sense of a less pompous, tho' a more rational

Enjoyment, none sure can envy him but those who are the Dupes of an

equally fantastick Ambition.

My Imagination is quite heated and fatigued in dressing up this Phantome

of Felicity; but I hope it has not made me so far misunderstood, as not

to have allow'd that in all the Dispensations of Providence the Exercise

of a great and virtuous Mind is the most elevated State of Happiness:

No, Sir, I am not for setting up Gaiety against Wisdom; nor for

preferring the Man of Pleasure to the Philosopher; but for shewing that

the Wisest or greatest Man is very near an unhappy Man, if the unbending

Amusements I am contending for are not sometimes admitted to relieve

him.

How far I may have over-rated these Amusements let graver Casuists

decide; whether they affirm or reject what I have asserted hurts not my

Purpose; which is not to give Laws to others; but to shew by what Laws I

govern myself: If I am mis-guided, 'tis Nature's Fault, and I follow her

from this Persuasion; That as Nature has distinguish'd our Species from

the mute Creation by our Risibility, her Design must have been by that

Faculty as evidently to raise our Happiness, as by our _Os Sublime_[27]

(our erected Faces) to lift the Dignity of our Form above them.

Notwithstanding all I have said, I am afraid there is an absolute Power

in what is simply call'd our Constitution that will never admit of other

Rules for Happiness than her own; from which (be we never so wise or

weak) without Divine Assistance we only can receive it; So that all this

my Parade and Grimace of Philosophy has been only making a mighty Merit

of following my own Inclination. A very natural Vanity! Though it is

some sort of Satisfaction to know it does not impose upon me. Vanity

again! However, think It what you will that has drawn me into this

copious Digression, 'tis now high time to drop it: I shall therefore in

my next Chapter return to my School, from whence I fear I have too long

been Truant.