the watch.
6. The Lady's Looking-Glass, to dress themselves by. Damon is supposed
to send Iris a looking-glass, which represents to her all her charms,
viz. her shape, complexion, hair, &c. This likewise, which is not
properly a novel, is taken from the French.
7. The Lucky Mistake, a new novel.
8. The Court of the King of Bantam.
9. The Adventures of the Black Lady. The reader will distinguish the
originals from translations, by consulting the 2d and 3d tomes of
Recueil des pieces gallantet, en prose et en verse. Paris 1684.
We have observed, that in the English translation of Ovid's Epistles,
the paraphrase of Oenone's Epistle to Paris is her's. In the preface to
that work Mr. Dryden pays her this handsome compliment.
"I was desired to say, that the author, who is of the fair sex,
understood not Latin; but if she does not, I'm afraid she has given us
occasion to be ashamed who do."
Part of this epistle transcribed will afford a specimen of her
verification.
Say lovely youth, why wouldst thou, thus betray,
My easy faith, and lead my heart away.
I might some humble shepherd's choice have been,
Had I not heard that tongue, those eyes not seen;
And in some homely cot, in low repose,
Liv'd undisturb'd, with broken vows and oaths;
All day by shaded springs my flocks have kept,
And in some honest arms, at night have slept.
Then, un-upbraided with my wrongs thou'dit been,
Safe in the joys of the fair Grecian queen.
What stars do rule the great? no sooner you
Became a prince, but you were perjured too.
Are crowns and falsehoods then consistent things?
And must they all be faithless who are Kings?
The gods be prais'd that I was humble born,
Ev'n tho' it renders me my Paris' scorn.
And I had rather this way wretched prove,
Than be a queen, dishonest in my love.
[Footnote 1: Memoirs prefixed to her Novels, by a lady.]
[Footnote 2: Memoires ubi supra.]
[Footnote 3: Memoirs ubi supra.]
[Footnote 4: A noted boxer.]
[Footnote 5: A Turk, famous for his performances on a wire, after the
manner of rope-dancers.]
* * * * *
Sir GEORGE ETHEREGE,
A Celebrated wit in the reign of Charles and James II. He is said to
have been descended of an ancient family of Oxfordshire, and born about
the year 1636; it is thought he had some part of his education at the
university of Cambridge, but in his younger years he travelled into
France, and consequently made no long stay at the university. Upon his
return, he, for some time, studied the Municipal Law at one of the Inns
of Court, in which, it seems, he made but little progress, and like
other men of sprightly genius, abandoned it for pleasure, and the gayer
accomplishments.
In the year 1664 the town was obliged with his first performance for
the stage, entitled the Comical Revenge, or Love in a Tub, the writing
whereof brought him acquainted, as he himself informed us, with the earl
of Dorset, to whom it is by the author dedicated. The fame of this play,
together with his easy, unreserved conversation, and happy address,
rendered him a favourite with the leading wits, such as the duke of
Buckingham, Sir Charles Sedley, the earl of Rochester, Sir Car Scroop.
Being animated by this encouragement, in 1668, he brought another comedy
upon the stage, entitled She Would if She Could; which gained him no
less applause, and it was expected, that by the continuance of his
studies, he would polish and enliven the theatrical taste, and be no
less constant in such entertainments, than the most assiduous of his
cotemporaries, but he was too much addicted to pleasure, and being
impelled by no necessity, he neglected the stage, and never writ, till
he was forced to it, by the importunity of his friends. In 1676, his
last comedy called the Man of Mode, or Sir Fopling Flutter, came on the
stage, with the most extravagant success; he was then a servant to
the beautiful duchess of York, of whom Dryden has this very singular
expression, 'that he does not think, that at the general resurrection,
she can be made to look more charming than now.' Sir George dedicates
this play to his Royal Mistress, with the most courtly turns of
compliment. In this play he is said to have drawn, or to use the modern
cant, taken off, some of the cotemporary coxcombs; and Mr. Dryden, in
an Epilogue to it, has endeavoured to remove the suspicion of personal
satire, and says, that the character of Flutter is meant to ridicule
none in particular, but the whole fraternity of finished fops, the
idolaters of new fashions.
His words are,
True fops help nature's work, and go to school,
To file and finish God Almighty's fool:
Yet none Sir Fopling, him, or him, can call,
He's Knight o'th' Shire, and represents you all.
But this industry, to avoid the imputation of personal satire, but
served to heighten it; and the town soon found out originals to his
characters. Sir Fopling was said to be drawn for one Hewit, a beau of
those times, who, it seems, was such a creature as the poet ridiculed,
but who, perhaps, like many other coxcombs, would never have been
remembered, but for this circumstance, which transmits his memory to
posterity.
The character of Dorimant was supposed to represent the earl of
Rochester, who was inconstant, faithless, and undetermined in his
amours; and it is likewise said, in the character of Medley, that the
poet has drawn out some sketch of himself, and from the authority of Mr.
Bowman, who played Sir Fopling, or some other part in this comedy, it
is said, that the very Shoemaker in Act I. was also meant for a real
person, who, by his improvident courses before, having been unable
to make any profit by his trade, grew afterwards, upon the public
exhibition of him, so industrious and notable, that he drew a crowd of
the best customers to him, and became a very thriving tradesman. Whether
the poet meant to display these characters, we cannot now determine, but
it is certain, the town's ascribing them to some particular persons, was
paying him a very high compliment; and if it proved no more, it at least
demonstrated, a close imitation of nature, a beauty which constitutes
the greatest perfection of a comic poet.
Our author, it seems, was addicted to some gay extravagances, such as
gaming, and an unlicensed indulgence in women and wine, which brought
some satirical reflexions, upon him. Gildon in his Lives of the Dramatic
Poets, says, that upon marrying a fortune, he was knighted; the
circumstances of it are these: He had, by his gaming and extravagance,
so embarrassed his affairs, that he courted a rich widow in order to
retrieve them; but she being an ambitious woman, would not condescend to
marry him, unless he could make her a lady, which he was obliged to
do by the purchase of a knighthood; and this appears in a Consolatary
Epistle to captain Julian, from the duke of Buckingham, in, which this
match is reflected on. We have no account of any issue he had by this
lady, but from the information of Mr. Bowman we can say, that he
cohabited, for some time, with the celebrated Mrs. Barry the actress,
and had one daughter by her; that he settled 5 or 6000 l. on her, but
that she died young.
From the same intelligence, it also appears, that Sir George was, in his
person, a fair[1], slender, genteel man, but spoiled his countenance
with drinking, and other habits of intemperance. In his deportment he
was very affable and courteous, of a generous disposition, which, with
his free, lively, and natural vein of writing, acquired him the general
character of gentle George, and easy Etherege, in respect of which
qualities, we often find him compared to Sir Charles Sedley. His courtly
and easy behaviour so recommended him to the Duchess of York, that
when on the accession of King James II. she became Queen, she sent him
ambassador abroad, Gildon says, to Hamburgh; but it is pretty evident,
that he was in that reign a minister at Ratisbon, at least, from the
year 1686, to the time his majesty left this kingdom, if not later, but
it appears that he was there, by his own letters wrote from thence to
the earl of Middleton.
After this last comedy, we meet with no more he ever wrote for the
stage; however, there are preserved some letters of his in prose,
published among a collection of Familiar Letters, by John earl of
Rochester; two of which, sent to the duke of Buckingham, have particular
merit, both for the archness of the turns, and the acuteness of the
observations. He gives his lordship a humorous description of some of
the Germans, their excessive drunkenness; their plodding stupidity and
ostensive indelicacy; he complains that he has no companion in that part
of the world, no Sir Charles Sedleys, nor Buckinghams, and what is still
worse, even deprived of the happiness of a mistress, for, the women
there, he says, are so coy, and so narrowly watched by their relations,
that there is no possibility of accomplishing an intrigue. He mentions,
however, one Monsieur Hoffman, who married a French lady, with whom he
was very great, and after the calamitous accident of Mr. Hoffman's being
drowned, he pleasantly describes the grief of the widow, and the methods
he took of removing her sorrow, by an attempt in which he succeeded.
These two letters discover the true character of Etherege, as well as
of the noble person to whom they were sent, and mark them as great
libertines, in speculation as in practice.
As for the other compositions of our author, they consist chiefly of
little airy sonnets, smart lampoons, and smooth panegyrics. All that we
have met with more than is here mentioned, of his writing in prose, is
a short piece, entitled An Account of the Rejoicing at the Diet of
Ratisbon, performed by Sir George Etherege, Knight, residing there from
his Majesty of Great Britain, upon Occasion of the Birth of the Prince
of Wales; in a Letter from himself, printed in the Savoy 1688. When our
author died, the writers of his life have been very deficient; Gildon
says, that after the Revolution, he followed his master into France, and
died there, or very soon after his arrival in England from thence. But
there was a report (say the authors of the Biograph. Brit. which they
received from an ingenious gentleman) 'that Sir George came to an
untimely death, by an unlucky accident at Ratisbon, for, after having
treated some company with a liberal entertainment at his house there,
when he had taken his glass too freely, and, being through his great
complaisance too forward, in waiting on his guests at their departure,
flushed as he was, he tumbled down stairs, and broke his neck, and so
fell a martyr to jollity and civility.'
One of the earliest of our author's lesser poems, is that addressed to
her Grace the Marchioness of Newcastle, after reading her poems, and as
it is esteemed a very elegant panegyric, we shall give the conclusion of
it as a specimen.
While we, your praise, endeavouring to rehearse,
Pay that great duty in our humble verse;
Such as may justly move your anger, now,
Like Heaven forgive them, and accept them too.
But what we cannot, your brave hero pays,
He builds those monuments we strive to raise;
Such as to after ages shall make known,
While he records your deathless fame his own:
So when an artist some rare beauty draws,
Both in our wonder there, and our applause.
His skill, from time secures the glorious dame,
And makes himself immortal in her fame.
Besides his Songs, little panegyrical Poems and Sonnets, he wrote two
Satires against Nell Gwyn, one of the King's mistresses, though there is
no account how a quarrel happened between them; the one is called Madam
Nelly's Complaint, beginning,
If Sylla's ghost made bloody Cat'line start.
The other is called the Lady of Pleasure, with; its Argument at the Head
of it, whereof the first line is,
The life of Nelly truly shewn.
Sir George spent a life of ease, pleasure, and affluence, at least
never was long, nor much, exposed to want. He seems to have possessed
a sprightly genius, to have had an excellent turn for comedy, and very
happy in a courtly dialogue. We have no proof of his being a scholar,
and was rather born, than made a poet. He has not escaped the censure of
the critics; for his works are so extremely loose and licentious, as to
render them dangerous to young, unguarded minds: and on this account our
witty author is, indeed, justly liable to the severest censure of the
virtuous, and sober part of mankind.
[Footnote 1: Biogr. Brit. p. 1844.]
* * * * *
THE LIFE OF
WILLIAM MOUNTFORD.
This gentleman, who was very much distinguished as a player, was born in
the year 1659, but of what family we have no account, farther than that
they were of Staffordshire; the extraordinary circumstances of Mr.
Mountford's death, have drawn more attention upon him, than he might
otherwise have had; and though he was not very considerable as a poet,
yet he was of great eminence as an actor. Mr. Cibber, in his Apology for
his own Life, has mentioned him with the greatest respect, and drawn his
character with strong touches of admiration. After having delineated
the theatrical excellences of Kynaston, Sandford, &c. he thus speaks of
Mountford. 'Of person he was tall, well made, fair, and of an agreeable
aspect, his voice clear, full, and melodious; in tragedy he was the
most affecting lover within my memory; his addresses had a resistless
recommendation from the very tone of his voice, which gave his words
such softness, that as Dryden says,
--'Like flakes of feather'd snow,
'They melted as they fell.
All this he particularly verified in that scene of Alexander, where
the hero throws himself at the feet of Statira for pardon of his past
infidelities. There we saw the great, the tender, the penitent, the
despairing, the transported, and the amiable, in the highest perfection.
In comedy he gave the truest life to what we call the fine gentleman;
his spirit shone the brighter for being polished by decency. In scenes
of gaiety he never broke into the regard that was due to the presence
of equal, or superior characters, tho' inferior actors played them; he
filled the stage, not by elbowing and crossing it before others, or
disconcerting their action, but by surpassing them in true and masterly
touches of nature; he never laughed at his own jest, unless the point
of his raillery upon another required it; he had a particular talent
in giving life to bons mots and repartees; the wit of the poet seemed
always to come from him extempore, and sharpened into more wit from his
brilliant manner of delivering it; he had himself a good share of it,
or what is equal to it, so lively a pleasantness of humour, that when
either of these fell into his hands upon the stage, he wantoned with
them to the highest delight of his auditors. The agreeable was so
natural to him, that even in that dissolute character of the Rover, he
seemed to wash off the guilt from vice, and gave it charms and merit;
for though it may be a reproach to the poet to draw such characters, not
only unpunished, but rewarded, the actor may still be allowed his due
praise in his excellent performance; and this was a distinction which,
when this comedy was acted at Whitehall, King William's Queen Mary
was pleased to make in favour of Mountford, notwithstanding her
disapprobation of the play; which was heightened by the consideration
of its having been written by a lady, viz. Mrs. Behn, from whom more
modesty might have been expected.
'He had, besides all this, a variety in his genius, which few capital
actors have shewn, or perhaps have thought it any addition of their
merit to arrive at; he could entirely change himself, could at once
throw off the man of sense, for the brisk, vain, rude, lively coxcomb,
the false, flashy pretender to wit, and the dupe of his own sufficiency;
of this he gave a delightful instance, in the character of Sparkish, in
Wycherley's Country Wife: in that of Sir Courtly Nice, by Crown, his
excellence was still greater; there his whole man, voice, mien, and
gesture, was no longer Mountford, but another person; there, the
insipid, soft civility, the elegant and formal mien, the drawling
delicacy of voice, the stately flatness of his address, and the empty
eminence of his attitudes, were so nicely observed, that had he not been
an entire matter of nature, had he not kept his judgment, as it were a
centinel upon himself, not to admit the least likeness of what he used
to be, to enter into any part of his performance, he could not possibly
have so compleatly finished it.'
Mr. Cibber further observes, that if, some years after the death of
Mountford, he himself had any success in those parts, he acknowledges
the advantages he had received from the just idea, and strong
impressions from Mountford's acting them.' 'Had he been remembered (says
he) when I first attempted them, my defects would have been more easily
discovered, and consequently my favourable reception in them must have
been very much, and justly abated. If it could be remembered, how much
he had the advantage of me in voice and person, I could not here be
suspected of an affected modesty, or overvaluing his excellence; for he
sung a clear, counter-tenor, and had a melodious, warbling throat,
which could not but set off the last scene of Sir Courtly with uncommon
happiness, which I, alas! could only struggle through, with the faint
excuses, and real confidence of a fine singer, under the imperfection of
a feigned, and screaming treble, which, at least, could only shew you.
what I would have done, had nature been more favourable to me.'
This is the amiable representation which Mr. Cibber makes of his old
favourite, and whose judgment in theatrical excellences has been ever
indisputed. But this finished performer did not live to reap the
advantages which would have arisen from the great figure he made upon
the stage.
He fell in the 33d year of his age, by the hand of an assassin, who
cowardly murdered him, and slid from justice. As we imagine it will not
be unpleasing to the reader to be made acquainted with the most material
circumstances relating to that affair, we mail here insert them, as they
appear on the trial of lord Mohun, who was arraigned for that murder,
and acquitted by his peers. Lord Mohun, it is well known, was a man of
loose morals, a rancorous spirit, and, in short, reflected no honour on
his titles. It is a true observation, that the temper and disposition of
a man may be more accurately known by the company he keeps, than by any
other means of reading the human heart: Lord Mohun had contracted a
great intimacy with one captain Hill, a man of scandalous morals, and
despicable life, and was so fond of this fellow, whom, it seems, nature
had wonderfully formed to be a cut throat, that he entered into his
schemes, and became a party in promoting his most criminal pleasures.
This murderer had long entertained a passion for Mrs. Bracegirdle, so
well known, as an excellent actress, and who died not many years ago,
that it would be superfluous to give a particular account of her; his
passion was rejected with disdain by Mrs. Bracegirdle, who did not think
such a heart as his worth possessing. The contempt with which she
used captain Hill fired his resentment; he valued himself for being a
gentleman, and an officer in the army, and thought he had a right, at
the first onset, to triumph over the heart of an actress; but in this he
found himself miserably mistaken: Hill, who could not bear the contempt
shewn him by Mrs. Bracegirdle, conceived that her aversion must proceed
from having previously engaged her heart to some more favoured lover;
and though Mr. Mountford was a married man, he became jealous of him,
probably, from no other reason, than the respect with which he observed
Mr. Mountford treat her, and their frequently playing together in the
same scene. Confirmed in this suspicion, he resolved to be revenged on
Mountford, and as he could not possess Mrs. Bracegirdle by gentle means,
he determined to have recourse to violence, and hired some ruffians to
assist him in carrying her off. His chief accomplice in this scheme was
lord Mohun, to whom he communicated his intention, and who concurred
with him in it. They appointed an evening for that purpose, hired a
number of soldiers, and a coach, and went to the playhouse in order to
find Mrs. Bracegirdle, but she having no part in the play of that night,
did not come to the house. They then got intelligence that she was gone
with her mother to sup at one Mrs. Page's in Drury-Lane; thither they
went, and fixed their post, in expectation of Mrs. Bracegirdle's coming
out, when they intended to have executed their scheme against her. She
at last came out, accompanied with her mother and Mr. Page: the two
adventurers made a sign to their hired bravo's, who laid their hands on
Mrs. Bracegirdle: but her mother, who threw her arms round her waist,
preventing them from thrusting her immediately into the coach, and Mr.
Page gaining time to call assistance, their attempt was frustrated, and
Mrs. Bracegirdle, her mother, and Mr. Page, were safely conveyed to her
own house in Howard-street in the Strand. Lord Mohnn and Hill, enraged
at this disappointment, resolved, since they were unsuccessful in one
part of their design, they would yet attempt another; and that night
vowed revenge against Mr. Mountford.
They went to the street where Mr. Mountford lived, and there lay in wait
for him: Old Mrs. Bracegirdle and another gentlewoman who had heard them
vow revenge against Mr. Mountford, sent to his house, to desire his wife
to let him know his danger, and to warn him not to come home that night,
but unluckily no messenger Mrs. Mountford sent was able to find him:
Captain Hill and lord Mohun paraded in the streets with their swords
drawn; and when the watch made enquiry into the cause of this, lord
Mohun answered, that he was a peer of the realm, and dared them to touch
him at their peril; the night-officers being intimidated at this threat,
left them unmolested, and went their rounds. Towards midnight Mr.
Mountford going home to his own house was saluted in a very friendly
manner, by lord Mohun; and as his lordship seemed to carry no marks of
resentment in his behaviour, he used the freedom to ask him, how he came
there at that time of night? to which his lordship replied, by asking if
he had not heard the affair of the woman? Mountford asked what woman? to
which he answered Mrs. Bracegirdle; I hope, says he, my lord, you do not
encourage Mr. Hill in his attempt upon Mrs. Bracegirdle; which however
is no concern of mine; when he uttered these words, Hill, behind
his back, gave him some desperate blows on his head, and before Mr.
Mountford had time to draw, and stand on his defence, he basely run him
thro' the body, and made his escape; the alarm of murder being given,
the constable seized lord Mohun, who upon hearing that Hill had escaped
expressed great satisfaction, and said he did not care if he were hanged
for him: When the evidences were examined at Hicks's-Hall, one Mr.
Bencroft, who attended Mr. Mountford, swore that Mr. Mountford declared
to him as a dying man, that while he was talking to lord Mohun, Hill
struck him, with his left hand, and with his right hand run him thro'
the body, before he had time to draw his sword.
Thus fell the unfortunate Mountford by the hand of an assassin, without
having given him any provocation; save that which his own jealousy had
raised, and which could not reasonably be imputed to Mountford as a
crime.
Lord Mohun, as we have already observed, was tried, and acquitted by
his peers; as it did not appear, that he immediately assisted Hill, in
perpetrating the murder, or that they had concerted it before; for tho'
they were heard to vow revenge against Mountford, the word murther was
never mentioned. It seems abundantly clear, that lord Mohun, however,
if not active, was yet accessary to the murther; and had his crime been
high treason, half the evidence which appeared against him, might have
been sufficient to cost him his head. This nobleman himself was killed
at last in a duel with the duke of Hamilton.[1]
Mr. Mountford, besides his extraordinary talents as an actor, is author
of the following dramatic pieces.