A General HISTORY OF THE STAGE, From its Origin in GREECE down to the present TIME. WITH THE MEMOIRS of most of the principal PERFORMERS that have appeared on the
ENGLISH
and
IRISH
STAGE for these last Fifty Years. WITH Notes, Antient, Modern, Foreign, Domestic, Serious, Comic, Moral, Merry, Historical, and Geographical, containing many Theatrical Anecdotes; also several Pieces of Poetry, never before published.
Collected and Digested by
W. R. CHETWOOD,
Twenty Years Prompter to his Majesty's Company of Comedians at the THEATRE-ROYAL in
Drury-Lane, London.
—All the World's a Stage,
And ev'ry Man and Woman, merely Actors.
SHAKESPEAR.
LONDON:
Printed for W. OWEN, near
Temple-Bar,
M, DCC, XLIX.
TO DAVID GARRICK, Esquire, J. LACY, Esquire, JOHN RICH, Esquire, and THOMAS SHERIDAN, Esquire, PATENTEES and MANAGERS OF THE THEATRES-ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE, COVENT-GARDEN, and SMOCK-ALLEY.
GENTLEMEN,
TO your Censures I commit the following Piece, since you are all the proper Judges of my Tryal. If I am condemned, I shall receive my Sentence without Murmuring; and, if acquitted, with sincere Thanks: But as every Offender would find some Pretence to mitigate his Crime, I will only put you in mind that I have march'd under all your Banners in many Winter Colds and Summer Heats, and given Proofs of my
Conduct,
if not of my Courage, and have disciplin'd some of your Troops.
Tho' my Enemies have beat me to the Pit
(as
Brutus
said), yet, thank Heaven! some few Friends have interpos'd, and prevented my falling in: There is a Consolation in Innocence that is our best Shield.
I am bad at Compliments, but I wish you all the Success your Merits deserve; Copy the
Roman Roscius
(tho' a Heathen) while you live; and, when you die, it may be said of you as the noble
Cicero
Every Person may not know that
Marcus Tullius Cicero
and
Roscius
lived in the same Century, and were Cotemporaries, though the
Orator
was much the younger, and was taught all that Energy in his Orations he was so much famed for, by
Roscius. Tully
survived him many Years. He derived his Line from
Tullius Appius
King of the
Volsci,
and took his Name from
Cicer,
a
Chich-pea
(or as we call them in
England, Vech),
by having a Wart on his Forehead which resembled that Pulse. These great Men
(Cicero
and
Roscius)
flourished about the Year of the World 3880, 60 Years before the Birth of Christ.
said of that celebrated Actor:
Quis nostrum tam animo agresti ac duro fuit, ut
ROSCII
morte nuper non commoveretur? qui, cum esset senex mortuus, tamen propter excellentem artem, ac venustatem, videbatur omnino mori non debuisse.
Which of us all would be so unpolished and obdurate, as not to be sensibly moved with the Death of ROSCIUS? Who, tho' dying in Old Age, yet his excellent Art, and sweet Manner of Deportment, influenced every one to wish him immortal.
With this I end, and take Leave to subscribe myself,
Your most Obedient, Humble, and Respectful Servant, W. R. CHETWOOD.
THE PREFACE.
A PREFACE
is Part of the Habit to a
Book,
and no Author can appear fulldress'd without it: 'Tis a
Cockade
to an Officer, a
Nosegay
to a Lawyer, a
Patch
or a
Fan
to a fine Lady, or, a
Ribband
to her Lap-Dog.
If I should tell my Readers, I am prevailed upon with great Intreaties from my Friends to publish this Piece, I should embark with a Falshood (for it is my own Free-will, Act and Deed); and I would willingly have my Readers believe I publish nought but Truth. My Cargo is genuine, and I have taken up but little on Credit.
If the good Reader should find better Scraps of Rhyme than my own (which I presume will not be over-difficult), I have given them distinguishing Marks, that there may be no Doubts on that Account.
The numerous Notes I have squeezed in, are meant to divert; if I lose my Aim, I shall content myself with considering, I may be but one among ten thousand that have been mistaken.
I have unnumbered Thanks to many in this Kingdom, and in particular to a young Gentleman whose Good-nature has been indefatigable in my Interest. The other a Gentleman eminent in the Law, who has made my Cause his own. It gives me great Concern I am not permitted publicly to own their unbounded Goodness and Generosity, since such
Sterling
Friends are but seldom met with by Wretches in Misfortune.
I am
Unfortunate
I own, but (as
Oroonoko
says)
not ashamed of being so.
I bear all with Patience and Chearfulness; which I find has occasion'd the following Flight of Poetry from a Friend. I know Authors often write to themselves; yet I'll assure you, on my Veracity, it is not the Case here; tho' I must allow a little Vanity in my Composition makes me willing to insert it.
Integervitae, scelerisquepurus.
Hor. Ode XXII.
SAY, fair Content, lov'd Goddess, say,
How shall I find thy soft Retreat;
Where shall I seek thy Halcyon Seat,
Or trace thy sacred Way?
Love pointed out a pleasing Scene,
Where nought but Beauty could be found,
With Roses and with Myrtles crown'd;
And nam'd thee for its Queen.
Delusion all! a specious Cheat!
At my Approach the Roses fade;
I found each Fragrance quite decay'd,
And curs'd the fond Deceit!
At Courts I've sought, where Splendor shone,
Where Pomp and gilded Cars reside;
'Midst endless Hurry, endless Pride;
But there thou wast unknown.
Yet in the Captive's dreary Cell,
Lodg'd with a long-experienc'd Sage
(With thee, thou CHIRON of the
Stage)
The Goddess deigns to dwell.
Integrity, and Truth serene,
Have eas'd the Labours of the Breast,
And lull'd the peaceful Heart to rest,
'Midst Perfidy and Pain.
A Soul, like thine, disrob'd of Guile,
In native Innocence elate;
Above the keenest Rage of Fate,
Can greet IT with a Smile.
I would wish with
Horace,
—Nec turpem senectam
Degere—
To pass declining Years without Reproach;
But that I find impossible; Falshood and Fraud are the Products of the World, and grow spontaneous. But no more than this; I forgive my Enemies, and shall ever cherish the Memory of my Friends. I must ask Pardon for naming Mr.
Barrington
in this Theatre, and Miss
Bellamy
in
Covent-Garden;
the Goodness of them both have often eas'd an aching Heart.
A General HISTORY OF THE STAGE.
THE STAGE is almost as old as the sacred Inspiration of the Muse; admir'd, when at
Nurse,
and even in its Infant Prattle, pleasing: Born in
Greece,
and nourish'd at
Athens.
A merry Author says, in a Prologue,
Thespis,
the first Professor of our Art,
At Country Wakes sung Ballads in a Cart.
And tho'
Bacchus
is allowed to be the Father, yet all Nations,
antient
and
modern,
esteem'd it to be a
sober
and
instructive
Entertainment.
The early Stages were, indeed, no more than native Turf, or Sod; and what was first exhibited, of a Piece, simple Pastoral Songs, sometimes mix'd with Scandal or Abuse, and, may be, home Truths; like the
Terrae Filius
at
Oxford,
or the blazoning
Peccadillos
of two opponent Members setting up for the same Borough. Yet, from these Seeds of Satire, we owe a
Juvenal, Perseus, Horace,
and
Petronius,
and, indeed, the whole Race of
Heroic, Epic, Dramatic,
and
Pastoral
Poets and Poetry; your
Spondees
and
Dactyls,
the
Buskin
and
Sock,
the
Laurel
and
Bays.
From these Turf Stages, the Players, such as they were, mounted a Cart, or some such Vehicle, and began to travel Bag and Baggage, perhaps like the Picture of the Itinerants in
Scarron
's comical Romance. Hear what
Horace
says, in
Latin:
Ignotum Tragicae genus invenisse Camoenae
Dicitur, & plaustris vexisse Poemata
Thespis:
Quae canerent agerentque peruncti faecibus ora.
Post hunc personae pallaeque repertor honestae
Aeschylus & modicis implevit pulpita tignis;
Et docuit magnumquae loqui, nitique
Cothurno.
But for fear some People may understand as little
Latin
as myself, take the Sense in the following
English.
Thespis,
an early Poet and Player, born at
Athens.
Thespis,
the first that did surprise the Age
With Tragedy, ne'er trod a decent Stage;
But in a Waggon drove his Plays about,
And shew'd mean antick Tricks to please the Rout:
His Songs uneven, rude, in ev'ry Part;
His Actors smutted, and the Stage a Cart.
Next
Aeschylus,
a celebrated
Greek
Poet, an
Athenian.
There are several
Greek
Tragedies of his handed down to us, and, as
Casaubon
imagines, many more lost. By some Authors he is suppos'd to have been one of the Performers in his own Dramatic Pieces The learned
Thomas Stanley,
Esq
of
Hertfordshire,
has publish'd this antient Author in
Latin,
with the original
Greek
on one Side, illustrated with elaborate Notes, in
Folio.
Aeschylus
did greater Art express,
He built a Stage, and taught them how to dress;
In decent Motion he his Parts convey'd,
And made them look as great as those they play'd.
CREECH.
The first Theatre in
Athens
was built, by the Directions of
Aeschylus,
at the public Charge. It was a wooden Pile, yet very spacious. But at the Representation of one of the Tragedies compos'd by
Aeschylus,
according to
Suidas,
the Building gave way, by the monstrous Weight of 20000 Spectators, and many were kill'd and maim'd. To prevent such fatal Accidents for the future, the City order'd one more magnificent to be erected, intirely built with Stone, capable of holding half the Inhabitants without the former Danger: Some Authors say of Marble, surpassing, in Elegance, the Temples of their Gods. It consisted of two Parts, the
Scena,
and
Cavea:
The
Scena,
that Part which form'd the Stage, and other Conveniencies belonging to it; the upper Part for their
Scenes
and
Machinery,
which were generally flat Curtains, with all the Variety of Painting, let occasionally down to vary the Prospect, and manage the Machinery; as
Lee
intimates, in the Tragedy of
Oedipus:
O! that, as oft I have at
Athens
seen
The Stage
arise,
and the big Clouds
descend.
The
Cavea
was the Place where the Spectators were seated: The under Part of the Stage was form'd for raising any thing particular for the different Performances, where were also placed the brazen Tubes for Thunder, and Utensils for Lightning, and many other Conveniencies, according to
Graevius:
With brazen Thunder, forked Lightning hurl'd,
That blazing stream'd, to fright the mimic World.
They had also different Thunder, for good or bad Omens, according to
Athenaeus:
Auspicious Omen rends the Womb of Night,
And forked Lightning flashes from the Right.
And again,
Ill-Omen'd Lightning has the Welkin cleft,
And rolling Thunder bellows from the Left.
It may well be ask'd by Numbers, If these
Theatres
were so large and spacious, what sort of
Theatrical
Performers must those distant Ages produce? They must either have
Stentrophon
Voices, or their Auditors most delicate auricular Faculties. No; in my Opinion the Senses of Hearing and Seeing were much the same as now: But as to the Voice, that, indeed, doubtless, wanted Assistance; which to help, they had Coverings to the whole Head and Face, and over the Face a
Mask,
with a Mouth only, to strengthen the Sound of the Voice; in my poor Opinion, wretched Assistance! Where were the
Eyes
and Muscles of the Countenance, to command, implore, exult, upbraid, consent, refuse, and all those different Passions that agitate the Mind, wherein the Eyes are the
Index?
These
Masks
were made to cover the Head, as was said before, adorn'd with Hair proper to the Character the Actor was to represent upon the Stage. Madam
Dacier
has given an engrav'd Specimen of several Masks us'd on the
Roman Theatre,
in her Translation of
Terence,
which she procur'd in an ancient Manuscript of that Author's Works. The
Romans
follow'd the
Greeks
in their
Drama;
so, we may be assured, these Helps came from
Athens
to
Rome.
But as the Voice was to be modell'd, so was the Person; therefore the
Cothurnus,
or
Buskin,
was invented, not like our modern
Greek
or
Roman
Buskin, but an Elevation of Person, half a Yard, or so, to emulate the Size of Immortals, or earthly Giants, and Heroes; like our waggish Boys, appearing upon Stilts. But the
Cothurnus
was only made use of in Tragedy to
step stately;
for if they had hurry'd, they might have been in some Danger of kissing the Ground: Neither could they, I suppose, pay Homage to their Monarch, or their Mistress, tho' perhaps, in those Days, Kneeling was neither a Mark of Submission, or Adoration, at least among the
Greeks.
But thus are their Actors pictur'd out by many Authors.
Cornelius Nepos
tells us, most of the Performers on the
Grecian
Theatres were the chief of the Nobility, Persons of great Learning and Dignity,
Poets, Orators,
and
Historians;
even
Kings
did not disdain to appear on the
Athenian
Stage. But, what is most surprising, these monstrous Piles of Buildings were so contriv'd, that two of these large Theatres could turn, join, and form an
Amphitheatre
for the hunting wild Beasts, &c.
Casaubon,
in his Description of the Splendor of
Rome,
says, that
Curio,
a
Roman
Knight, to entertain the People, built two spacious Theatres in such a Manner, Back to Back (if it may be so term'd), first for the
Histriones
Histriones,
or Actors, took their Name from
Hister,
in the
Tuscan
Language, a Player.
, or Actors, to perform in the Morning; in the Afternoon they were mov'd, to meet each other, and form one spacious
Amphitheatre,
where the Combats of Gladiators and Wild Beasts were perform'd. But when we consider the
Greek
and
Roman
Engines of War, the
Turres
Turres Mobiles,
or moving Towers of the
Greeks,
are the same of those of the
Romans,
which they copied from them. They are used in besieging the Walls of a City, generally 150 Foot high, and 30 Foot square, containing many Rooms in Length, and Height, capable of holding a large Body of Soldiers, with Arms and other Engines, Ladders, Bridges to throw over the City-wall for the Soldiers to enter the Town; and all this mighty Bulk put together in three Hours, as
Gronovius
tells us, with Wheels that could move it forward or back by Men, to shove, or draw, to press on, or retreat; some of the Stories fill'd with Archers and Slingers, another with Fireballs, the rest with Spears and Darts, &c.
, and a whole Catalogue of others, the Wonder will cease.
The
Athenian
Theatre was, beyond all doubt, the primal and eldest Child of the
Drama;
and, consequently, must have the earliest of the Dramatic Poets, and most in Number. We have not many more of the
Roman
Dramatic Bards, after naming
Seneca
The learned
Seneca
was born at
Cordova
in
Spain.
This is not the Stoic Philosopher, whom, by his moral Writings,
Hierome
ranks among the List of sacred Authors; tho' both these great Men were born in
Cordova.
for Tragedy, and
Plautus
Plautus
was born in
Umbria,
in the Kingdom of
Naples.
Notwithstanding his Reputation as a Comic Poet, thro' his extravagant Way of Living, he was, at last, reduced to get his Subsistence by turning a Baker's Handmill: A
Memento
for Poets, as well as Players.
, with
Terence
Terence
was born at
Carthage,
the Capital of
Africa,
that so long contended with the
Roman
Republic. He serv'd
Terentius Lucanus,
a
Roman
Knight, who recommended him to
Scipio
and
Laelius.
There are Six of his Comedies left us, but most taken from the
Greek
of
Menander,
which makes the learned World regret the Loss of that excellent Author.
Terence,
after his great Success in
Rome,
embark'd to visit
Athens,
but was suppos'd to perish at Sea; for he was never after heard of.
, for Comedy, and this last borrowed from the
Greek
of
Menander.
While, among the
Grecians,
we have this
Menander,
Menander,
a celebrated
Greek
Comic Poet.
Suidas
informs us, that he squinted, and was an inordinate Lover of the Fair Sex
Plautus
and
Terence
borrow'd as much from this Author, as our modern Play-wrights from
Corneille, Racine, Moliere, Renard,
and many of the
French
Tribe of
Parnassus.
But whom has our Immortal
Shakespear
pilfer'd from? Why, not having the Fear of Heaven before his Eyes, he has sacrilegiously stolen from that sacred Goddess, Nature, in all her Works.
,
Aeschylus, Sophocles
Sophocles
was a celebrated Tragic Poet of
Athens.
He flourished in the Year of the World 3520. before the Birth of
Christ
428.
,
Euripides
Euripides
wrote 75 Dramatic Pieces. Altho' he was twice married, he was accounted a Woman-hater. Various are the Accounts of his Death: Some say, he was torn to Pieces by Women; others, by the King of
Macedon
's Dogs. He was contemporary with
Sophocles.
, and
Aristophanes
Aristophanes
was born at
Lindus,
in the Island of
Rhodes.
He wrote 14 Comedies. He was cotemporary with
Socrates,
and in one of his Plays ridicules that great Philosopher. He flourished in the Year of the World 3527.
, the first and last for Comedy, the other for Tragedy; not forgeting
Lycophron
Lycophron,
an eminent Tragic Poet, born at
Chalcedon,
a City of
Bithynia
in
Asia Minor,
and now call'd
Chiutale
by the
Turks,
in whose Government it now remains.
. Therefore we may thank
Athens
Athens
was built by
Cecrops
(as
Helvicus
informs us), a King of
Egypt,
in the Year of the World 2390. 64 Years before the
Israelites
went out of
Egypt.
It was obey'd by Kings, till 2812. of the World, when the Line of Monarchs ended with
Codrus. Archons
then were constituted in the Place of Regal Power, after the Reign of 31 Kings; the Hero
Theseus
being the 11th of that Number, who nam'd the City
Athens.
These
Archons,
or joint Rulers, were nine in Number, and were generally Hereditary.
Solon,
the wise Lawgiver, was an
Athenian,
and form'd those wholsome Statutes from which they deriv'd their excellent Government. See the
English
of the
Greek
of what he said of himself.
What Pow'r was fit, I did on all bestow;
Nor rais'd the Poor too high, nor press'd too low:
The Rich, that rul'd, and ev'ry Office bore,
Confin'd by Laws, they could not press the Poor.
Both Parties I secur'd from lawless Might:
So, none prevailed upon another's Right.
Have we better Laws now? These
Archons
for Life continued Governors till 3190. They were then changed for ten Years Rule only, till 3268. then it formed a direct Republic, and, as
Alcibiades
says in the Play of
Timon
of
Athens,
One Tyrant is better than four Hundred!
Their home-bred Jars made them a Prey to the
Macedonians,
and afterwards to the
Romans.
And tho' famous for War and Arms, yet Learning and Art, even in their Troubles, rais'd them to be the first in the Esteem, tho' they wore the Chains of
Rome;
which shall introduce the Words of the
Oracle
to the great
Theseus:
Hear,
Theseus, Pitheus
Daughter's Son,
Hear what
Jove
for thee has done.
In this great City thou hast made,
He has, as in a Store-house, laid
The settled Periods and fix'd Fates
Of many Cities, mighty States.
But know thou neither Fear nor Pain;
Solicit not thyself in vain:
For, like a Bladder that does bide
The Fury of the angry Tide,
Thou from high Waves unhurt shalt bound,
Always toss'd, but never drown'd.
DUKE.
Athens
is now call'd
Atheni
by the
Turks.
There are computed 7000
Christians,
and 2000
Turks,
who command the Town. The
Aga
resides in the
Acropolis,
or Castle, built upon a Rock, a Mile in Circumference; within it is a
Mosque,
that, when
Athens
flourish'd, was the Temple of
Minerva,
built of white Marble, 217 Foot in Length, and 100 in Breadth; and (as
Wheeler
says) was one of the finest Structures in the World. Near it are some of the Remains of the
Theatre
of
Bacchus.
The
Area,
and the
Stage,
are almost fill'd with the ruinous Marble Seats. But it is plain to be discover'd, that this
Theatre
is much larger than the Temple of
Minerva,
and built with white Marble. The Temple of the eight Winds, some Remains of the
Odeum,
or Music Theatre, &c. may be still distinguish'd.
for her Schools of Science and Arts, whose flourishing Branches by degrees spread over the now learned World, as
Horace
writes in his Epistle to
Augustus Caesar:
Graecia
capta ferum victorem cepit, & artes Intulit agresti
Latio.
Greece
conquer'd, did her Conquerors o'ercome, Polish'd the Rude, and sent her Arts to
Rome.
The
Socci
is no more than we say in
English (Seck),
and used in Comedy only; For Tragedy, with the
Chorus,
and Comedy, were a long time the
Greek
and
Roman
Entertainments. The Chorus might, indeed, be term'd
Interludes,
tho' their Substance were mostly relative to the Story, as Thoughts of the foregoing Subject of the Scene, by Standers-by, or Over-hearers. Yet these, by degrees, melted away, and
Mimes
or
Pantomimes
were instituted in their room. Some of our
English
Authors have their Chorus after the antient Manner,
viz. Shakespear
in his
Henry
V. and
Winter's Tale; Milton
in his
Samson Agonistes; Sandys
in his
Christ's Passion;
and the late Duke of
Buckingham
in his two Tragedies from the
Julius Caesar
of our
Shakespear,
and others. The
Mimes
and
Pantomimes
crept in, and shov'd out these antient Chorus's; some were loose and wanton
Mimics,
that the
Roman
Luxury too well lik'd; others were more decent, who by Action and Gesture could describe a Story without speaking, in all its Variety of Passions. One of these was so excellent, that when a foreign Prince came to
Rome
in the Time of
Nero
the Tyrant, at his Departure, he ask'd no other Favour of the Emperor, but that
Mime,
whom he had seen perform, for this Reason; that as he had many barbarous Nations bordering round him, of different Speech, this Man by his Action could be an excellent Interpreter, whose Meaning was so well understood without the Use of Speech.
Mimes
and
Pantomimes
are generally the same thing; but to translate them Buffoons (as
Cooper
in his Dictionary) is something too low a Meaning. I shall leave the Antients to rest quietly in their Graves.
The
Drama
in
England,
and all over
Europe,
began as meanly as its first Original in
Greece
or
Rome,
and our Poetry as crude. The first Play, at least that has appeared in Print, was with this Title,
Gammer Gurton
's
Needle,
a Comedy, acted at
Christ's-College, Cambridge.
Writ by Mr. S. Master of Arts. And an artful Piece it is.
Gammer Gurton
has lost her Needle, and truly great Hunt is made about it; her Boy is sent to blow the Embers in order to light a Candle to help the Search. The damn'd Witch of a Cat is got in the Chimney, with her two fiery Eyes. The Boy cries,
It is the Devil of a Fire;
for when he puffs, it's out; and when he does not, it's in.
Stir it
! cries Gammer
Gurton.
The Boy does as he's bid. The Fire, or rather the Cat, flies among a Pile of Wood; the Boy cries,
The House will be burnt
! All Hands to work. The Cat is discover'd by a Priest (having a little more Cunning than the rest). This is the
Episode.
The main
Plot
and
Catastrophe
are full as good. Gammer
Gurton,
it seems, had the Day before been mending her Man
Hodge
's Breeches. Now
Hodge
in some Game of Merriment was to be punish'd by three Slaps on the
Bum,
by the brawny open Hand of one of his Fellow Bumpkins. His Head is laid down in Gammer
Gurton
's Lap; the first Slap is given—
Hodge,
with great Exclamation, bellows out,
Oh
! He declares his Grief! and searching for the Cause of his Pain—O, happy! the Needle was found bury'd up to the Eye in the Posterior of poor
Hodge
! It was pull'd out with great Rejoicing by all but the Delinquent, who express'd some Pain; and so ends this excellent
Comedy.
But Time has polish'd this Rudeness, and true
English Tragedy
and
Comedy
is allow'd to stand in the utmost Perfection. Yet Bunglers will still be dabbling. Every polite Nation delights in the
Drama.
The heavy
Dutch
have Plays in their own Language, but they are generally plann'd from the Old Testament. I had a Description of one given me, from an
English
Spectator. It was the Story of
Abraham
sacrificing his Son
Isaac.
But
Abraham
was arm'd with a
Gun
instead of a sacrificing
Knife.
The Angel, to prevent the Gun from firing, sprinkled some warm Water, a Distillation of its own making. The
Ram
in the Brake (which was represented by Boughs of Laurel) was a plump fat
Dutchman
(marry'd I suppose) with fair brow-spread Antlers on his Head, fix'd very artificially; and all the Decorations were of a Piece. But they have a handsome regular
Theatre
at the
Hague,
occupy'd by a
French
Troop of
Comedians.
Even the distant
Chinese
have very fine Theatres. I saw, in my Youth, a
Chinese
Performance at
Canton,
where the
Scenes, Machines,
and
Habits,
were surprising and magnificent; but not understanding the Language,
the Glare growing familiar,
as
Addison
says by Beauty,
Faded on the Eye, and pall'd upon the Sense.
Du Halde
in his History of
China
has translated into
French
several of the
Chinese
Dramatic Authors; but they seem plann'd mostly alike—A Prince secreted in his Youth by an evil Minister, and counterplotted by a good one: The Child at last brought from its Obscurity, marry'd to a great Princess, and begins his happy Reign. But these illustrious Ladies have but little to say for themselves, no more than the lost Daughters in the
Comedies
of
Terence,
found again by the Parents, and marry'd to the Son of a Friend.
Tavernier
in his Travels to the
East-Indies
informs us, that
Theatres
have been many Ages the Diversion of the
Chinese,
and more magnificent than those of
Europe.
He relates a long Description of them; and the more to illustrate that Account, gives you the
Plan
and
Picture
of one engrav'd, with the
Scenes
and
Machines.
The People of
America
had their Theatre, according to
Acosta
Acosta,
the
Spaniard,
that wrote the History of the
West-Indies
before
Cortez
had conquer'd it, says, the
Amantas,
or
Indian
Philosophers, were also Poets, and invented
Comedies
and
Tragedies,
which were acted on their Festivals before the King, the Royal Family, and the Court; the Actors being the Noblemen and great Officers of the Army. The Subject of their
Tragedies
were the Victories and great Actions of their Ancestors, which seem'd to be the best Means they had of preserving the Memory of what was past. In their
Comedies,
their Husbandry, their Houshold Affairs and Commerce were represented, and the most remarkable Follies in Life expos'd. The Poets taught them what they had to say, not by Writing, but by Memory; for Orthography was not known among the
Indians
till after the Conquest.
According to
Lopez de Vega,
the Christian Religion was propagated among the
Americans
by the Theatre. Read in his own Words what he writes upon the Subject:
Every Part of Gospel-history is thrown into a Play, and the
Indians
are the Actors (instructed by the
Jesuits);
one acts our
Saviour,
another St.
Peter,
a third
Pontius Pilate,
a fourth
Judas,
and so on. This they look upon as the readiest Way of instructing the vulgar
Indians
in the Christian Religion, and to fix the Sacred History of it in their Memories.
. But what need we travel so far from Home? 'Tis Time to come back to our own Country, with this Observation, that polite Nations allow the
Theatre
a wise and instructive Amusement. Even the Apostles did not disapprove of Plays, and no doubt read them; for St.
Paul,
in his First Epistle to the
Corinthians,
quotes
Menander
the
Greek
Comic Poet, and sets down his own Phrase in his own Words, xvth Chapter, 33d Verse,
Be not deceiv'd—Evil Communication corrupts good Manners.
Arts, Sciences, and even Trade, generally flourish with the Theatre, and, I think,
Religion
and Politeness, and why may not the
Drama
be a great Mark of a civiliz'd Nation? The
Greeks
and
Romans
were in their highest Glory when the
Stage
flourish'd. I need not say, that the
Theatre
in
England
came in with the Reformation, and the long-reign'd
Queen Elizabeth,
whose great Learning not only made her give it Encouragement, but Sir
Roger Naunton
tells us, that great Queen translated one of the Tragedies of
Euripides
from the original
Greek
for her own Amusement. Our immortal
Shakespear
met Reward from that illustrious Princess, and her Influence brought forth his inimitable Genius to that high Lustre, where it will shine unrival'd to after Ages, never once clouded but in the Time of Fanaticism, and drear Darkness of
Canting
and
Hypocrisy. France
was poring in the thick Mist, till
Hardy
their first Poet shewed Dramatic Light; then all Branches of Learning began to shine, and spread their Lustre, improv'd their Arts and Arms, and warm'd their wide-spreading Nation to Glory, when Conquest waited on their Monarch, and Victory cover'd him with Laurels, till check'd by the
British
Lion. Ambition in great Minds stands rank'd in the Line of Virtue; but I think to bound it is more truly a Virtue, as sweet-tongu'd
Waller
writes:
If the successful Troublers of Mankind,
With Laurel crown'd, so great Applause do find;
Shall the vex'd World less Honour yield to those,
That stop their Progress, and their Rage oppose?
Next to that Pow'r which does the Ocean awe,
Is to set Bounds, and give Ambition Law.
But let me set Bounds to myself.
As the
Stage
flourish'd in the Reign of Queen
Elizabeth
and King
James
the First, with such excellent Dramatic Poets,
viz. Shakespear, Ben Johnson, Massenger,
and many others, we may be well assur'd the
Actors
did not fall much short of the
Writers.
Nature is the same in every Age.
Taylor, Burbidge, Lowen, Hemmings, Condel, Allen, Mason, Field, Tarlton,
and others that performed in the Plays of
Shakespear, Johnson,
&c. have their public Praises in several cotemporary Authors. Mr.
Marlow
in his Preface to the
Jew
of
Malta
(a Play acted before King
Charles
the First and his Queen, at
Whitehall,
in the Year 1633.) writes, "that Mr.
Mason
and Mr.
Taylor
perform'd their Parts with that Excellence, that it was beyond conceiving." Sir
Richard Baker
in his Chronicles of
England,
at the latter End of Queen
Elizabeth,
after giving an Account of the eminent Persons in that Reign, writes thus of three Actors: "Excellency in the meanest Things deserves Remembrance.
Richard Burbidge,
and
Edward Allen,
two such Actors, as no Age must ever look to see the like: And, to make their Comedies complete,
Richard Tarlton,
for the
Clown's
Part, never had his Match, nor never will have." What this Writer calls the
Clown's
Part, were such as
Launcelot
in the
Merchant of Venice, Touchstone
in
As you like it,
the Fool in
King Lear,
and Parts of the Kind, which required Persons of infinite Humour.
Mr.
Thomas Heywood
was not only an excellent Actor, but a very great Author, and Dramatic Poet. I have read all his Works that are extant, and in my poor Judgment he may be accounted the first of the second-rank'd Poets in the Reigns of Queen
Elizabeth
and King
James
the First. I do not think it will displease the Reader, to give him a Catalogue of his great Labours.
1.
Robert
Earl of
Huntingdon
's Downfal, 1601.
2.
Robert
Earl of
Huntingdon
's Death, 1601. These two Pieces are the History of
Robin Hood.
3.
The Golden Age,
1611.
4.
The Silver Age,
1613.
5.
The Brazen Age,
1613.
6.
A Woman kill'd with Kindness,
1617.
7.
If you know not me, you know no-body.
This is the History of Queen
Elizabeth,
with a Print of that great Queen in the Front, and the
Spanish
Armada destroy'd by her Majesty's Fleet, 1623.
8.
The Royal King, and Loyal Subject,
1627.
9.
The fair Maid of the West; or, a Girl worth Gold.
First Part. 1631.
10.
The fair Maid.
Second Part. 1631.
11.
The Duchess of
Suffolk.
12.
The Iron Age.
First Part. 1632.
13.
The Iron Age.
Second Part. 1632.
14.
The
English Traveller, 1633.
15.
A Maidenhead well lost,
1634.
16.
The four
London
'Prentices, with the Conquest of
Jerusalem, 1635.
17.
A Challenge for Beauty,
1636.
18.
Fair Maid of the
Exchange, 1637.
19.
The wise Woman of
Hogsdon, 1638.
20.
The Rape of
Lucretia, 1638.
21.
Love
's
Mistress,
1640.
22.
Fortune by Land and Sea,
1655.
23.
Lancashire Witches.
The Date of this Play was wanting.
24.
Edward the Fourth.
In Two Parts. The late Mr.
Bowman
informed me, he was very well assured by Mr.
Cleveland,
a Poet of the last Age, this double Play was performed on two succeeding Nights, and had a very great Run (a Theatrical Term).
Several modern Authors have borrow'd from Mr.
Heywood.
I shall only mention two;
Shadwell
in his
Lancashire Witches,
and
Fielding
in his
Intriguing Chamber-Maid,
from the
English Traveller;
or rather
Renarde
the
Frenchman
translated it into
French
from the
English,
and our
English
Privateer retook it back again. Though it is very possible, all three might have an Eye upon the
Mostellaria
of
Plautus.
But this is sailing a little out of my Latitude. Yet we may be very well assured, this Poet must be in great Reputation, by the Number and Success of his Dramatic Works, when
Skakespear
and
Fletcher
were the reigning Monarchs of the Stage, not forgetting
Ben Johnson
and
Massenger.
And I repeat it here again, the Stage Performers must certainly be great in those Times, since few of our Poets have out-shone those that went before them, more especially
Shakespear
and
Johnson.
This last had no other
Epitaph
than O RARE BEN JOHNSON! and
Burbidge,
the Tragedian, by way of Estimation,
Exit
BURBIDGE. Mr.
Richard Allen,
another great Actor, founded and endowed a College
This College was first designed for the Relief and Support of six Men, six Women, with six Children, Persons thro' Indigence, Misfortunes, or old Age, belonging to the Theatres of
London.
But, when the Building was going forward, Mr.
Allen
having left off acting, he recommended a Door-keeper to his quondam Brother Actors; they absolutely refused him that small Favour, which so enraged him, that he turned his Bounty another Way. Both Parties, perhaps, to blame; but, I believe, few censured him
out
of the Theatres at that Time. He afterwards increased the Number of Children to twelve, from the Age of five Years, to be taught and maintained till 14 or 15. We may imagine the Founder no very great Friend to Matrimony, since he left Directions, that the Governor should continue a Batchelor, and one of his own Name; and to give place to another
Allen,
should he once change his Condition. The College is a noble Building, with a very handsome Chapel, the Altar-piece elegantly painted, with a well-ton'd Organ; and it is the Duty of the Organist to teach the Children to sing the proper Services of the Church. The decent Decorum is admired by all. There is also an elegant Pleasure-Garden, with a useful Orchard and Kitchen-Garden, all well-stock'd with the best Fruits, &c. Fish-ponds, that yield large Quantities of
Carp, Tench, Perch,
and
Eels.
And, much to the Credit of the Managers of this Charity, the original Estate left by the Founder is more than trebled in Value, and they have Money in their Treasury ready for another Purchase. I shall end this Account with what Sir
Richard Baker
writes in his Chronicle of
England
where he closes the Reign of King
James
the First:
About this Time (1624.)
Edward Allen,
of
Dulwich
in
Surry,
founded a fair Hospital at
Dulwich,
for six poor Men, six poor Women, and twelve poor Children from the Age of four to six Years, to be there maintained and taught till the Age of Fourteen or Sixteen, and to have a Schoolmaster, with Diet, and a convenient Stipend. This Man may be an Example, who, having gotten his Wealth by Stage-playing, converted it to this pious Use; not without a kind of Reputation to the Society of Stage-Players.
at
Dulwich
in
Surry,
at his own private Expence.
We have had great Generals, knowing Admirals, worthy Discoverers of new Worlds, as well as illustrious Poets, in the two last Ages; and why may not their cotemporary Theatrical Performers be as great in their Way? An Author, who wrote about Forty Years past, speaks thus of Mr.
Betterton:
In the Tragedy of
Hamlet
Prince of
Denmark,
Mr.
Betterton
performed the Part of young
Hamlet.
Sir
William Davenant
Sir
William Davenant
was, by many, supposed the natural Son of
Shakespear.
He succeeded
Ben Johnson
as Poet-Laureat in 1637. and obtained a Patent for a Company of Comedians from King
Charles,
and was knighted by that Monarch. He was accounted a great Poet, in several Branches of that Science: His Poem of
Gondibert
is esteemed a noble Poem, which he wrote in
France
during his Exile with King
Charles
the Second. His Works are printed in Folio 1673, which contains 17 Dramatic Pieces, besides his Poems, with his Head crowned with Laurel. The Features seem to resemble the open Countenance of
Shakespear,
but the want of a Nose gives an odd Cast to the Face. I shall not inquire how he came Noseless, yet give you a stale Jest upon the Occasion. Sir
William
walking by
Temple-Bar,
a Fishmonger's Boy, in watering his Fish upon the Stall, besprinkled the
Laureat;
who, snuffling, loudly complained of the Abuse. The Master begged the Knight's Pardon, and was for chastising his Servant with some Expostulations, as well as a Cudgel.
Zounds, Sir,
cry'd the Boy,
it's very hard I must be corrected for my Cleanliness; the Gentleman blew his Nose upon my Fish, and I was washing it off, that's all.
The Jest pleased Sir
William
so well, that he gave him a Piece of Money, and went away highly delighted. Since I have given you one old Jest upon the Nose of Sir
William,
I'll venture to throw in another. As he was walking along the
Mews,
an importunate Beggar-woman teiz'd him for Charity, with often repeating,
Heaven bless your Eye-sight! God preserve your Worship's Eye sight—Why, what's the Matter with my Eye-sight, Woman?
reply'd Sir
William, I find no Defect there. Ah! good Sir, I wish you never may,
return'd the Beggar;
for should your Sight ever fail you, you must borrow a Nose of your Neighbour to hang your Spectacles on.
His Play of the
Law against Lovers
is
Shakespear
's
Measure for Measure,
with a very little Alteration, and as
little
for the better. Sir
William
was the Contriver of painted Scenes in our
English
Theatres, as well as one of the first Introducers of singing Operas. There is a Work of this Kind, whose Title runs thus:
The Cruelty of the
Spaniards
in
Peru,
expressed by Instrumental and Vocal Music, and by Art of Perspective in Scenes, at the
Cock-Pit
in
Drury-Lane,
at three in the Afternoon, 1658.
having seen Mr.
Taylor,
of the
Black-Friers
Playhouse, act this Part (who was instructed by the Author
Shakespear),
remembred him so well, that he taught Mr.
Betterton,
in every Article; which, by his exact Performance, gained the Actor Esteem and Reputation superlative to all the other Players.
This Account makes it plain
Taylor
must be very great in the Part, since
Betterton,
his Imitator, performed it so well. And
Betterton,
in the Memory of many, was esteemed the greatest Actor of his Time. Read what the great
Addison
writes of him, who may be allowed a Judge of the Drama, as well as the Performers.
Such an Actor as Mr.
Betterton
ought to be recorded with the same Respect as
Roscius
among the
Romans.
The greatest Orator
(Tully)
has thought fit to quote his Judgment, and celebrate his Life.
Roscius
was the Example to all that would form themselves into proper and winning Behaviour: His Action was so well adapted to the Sentiments he expressed, that the Youth of
Rome
thought they wanted only to be virtuous to be as graceful in their Appearance as
Roscius.
The Imagination took a lovely Impression of what was great and good; and they who never thought of setting up for the Art of Imitation, became themselves inimitable Characters. There is no human Invention so aptly calculated for the forming a free-born People, as that of a
Theatre. Tully
reports, that the celebrated
Roscius
used frequently to say, the Perfection of an
Actor
is, only to become what he is doing. I have hardly a Notion, that any Performer of Antiquity could surpass the Action of Mr.
Betterton,
in any of the Occasions in which he has appeared on our Stage. The wonderful Agony which he appeared in, when he examined the Circumstance of the Handkerchief in the Part of
Othello;
the Mixture of Love that intrudes upon his Mind upon the innocent Answers
Desdemona
makes; betrayed in his Gesture such a Variety, and Vicissitude of Passion, as would admonish a Man to be afraid of his own Heart, and perfectly convince him, it is to stab it, to admit that worst of Daggers,
Jealousy.
Whoever reads in his Closet this admirable Scene will find, that he cannot (except he has as warm an Imagination as
Shakespear
himself) find any but dry, incoherent, and broken Sentences. But a Reader, that has seen
Betterton
act it, observes there could not be a Word added; that longer Speeches had been unnatural, nay, impossible, in
Othello
's Circumstances. Mr.
Rymer,
the greatest Critic of the Age he lived in, in his Dissertation on Tragedy, speaks thus on Mr.
Hart:
The Eyes of the Audience are prepossessed and charmed by his Action, before ought of the Poet can approach their Ears; and, to the most wretched of Characters,
Hart
gives a Lustre which dazzles the Sight, that the Deformities of the Poet cannot be perceived.
Now, after the Opinions of two such eminent Judges, why may we not suppose there were as great Stage Performers in Times past, as the present, without lessening the Merit of those that survive? If, in my simple Judgment, I allow the present equal to the past, I cannot allow that they exceed them, no more, perhaps, than the next Race of
Theatrical
Performers will excel many that now grace the Stage. Excellency, in this Science, does not always run in the Blood, or, like Estates, follow hereditary. They must be born
Actors,
as well as
Poets
and
Painters:
Yet there are many Dabblers in all three; but, alas! how few come to Perfection! We very rarely see Brothers or Sisters, Sons or Daughters. or any of the relative Line (though they sometimes take up the Calling, because one of the Race flourishes in the Theatrical Field) succeed in their Attempts. A Monarch may give Ribbands, Titles of Honour, or add to his Peers, but no Power but that immortal Goddess
Nature
can form a perfect Actor: Yet some even of these forget their Instructress, and Faults invade them to sully their Perfections. Every Performer on the Stage ought to take Virtue for his Guide. Precepts from the Pulpit will not have all their Efficacy from a
Monitor
without
Morals.
A Discourse on Sobriety, on a
Sunday,
would lose something of its Intention from an Orator known to baste the Bottle about all the past
Saturday
Evening till the
Noon of Night,
as
Shakespear
says. The Blind may hear, the Dumb and Deaf see, but every Sense must be perfect to instruct, and be instructed. Performers, of both Sexes, ought to imitate those virtuous Characters they represent upon the Stage; the Dignity of the Theatre, then, might emulate that of
Athens.
'Tis not the Business brings Scandal to the Performers, if they will take care to avoid drawing it upon themselves. I have known the Managers of
Drury-Lane,
and many of the rest of the Fraternity, meet Regard, and even Respect, from Persons of the first Rank, from their proper Behaviour; and I am convinced every one, with the like Conduct would meet with the like Treatment from People of Sense and good Breeding; but the Two-legg'd Brutes of the Creation will be ever incorrigible: A decent Dress will become their Station; but Pride ought to be as far distant from them, as the licensed Instructors of Divine Institution: For if Theatrical Performers are Servants to the Public (as an eminent Actor publicly declared), they should never attempt to out-dress their Masters.
Veluti in Speculum (behold as in a Glass),
the Motto over the Front of
Drury-Lane
Theatre, will serve both Auditors and Actors; and, I think, carries a more instructive Meaning than the other, of
Vivitur Ingenio (we live by Wit),
which only relates to the Stage. A bad Painter is seldom copy'd, and Excellence is only worth Imitation; Dress beyond Station is Pride, and Pride very often brings Self-punishment. I have known Fidlers and Dancing-masters wear lac'd Cloaths, but they seldom improv'd any thing but the Taylor's Bill, and as much laugh'd at as the Baboon I have often seen in a lac'd Coat and a Bag-wig in the Parade at
Bartholomew-Fair
—Yet I have seen gold Fringe on silk Vests, with white silk Stockens, worn by the Dancers on the Ropes at
Sadlers-Wells,
that have bow'd and scrap'd in that rich Dress, picking up Halfpence thrown down by
Coblers
and
Link-Boys.
Such Sights put me in mind of the painted Eggs
It is the Custom of the
Muscovites
at
Christmas, Easter,
and many other stated Festivals, to send, as a friendly Present to their Acquaintance and Relations, painted Eggs, generally embellish'd with Flowers curiously drawn, Fruits, &c. that are very often so expensive, that the Money laid out for the painting of one would purchase a hundred, as simple Nature produc'd them, and are of no farther Use than to be look'd upon. This Custom is kept up chiefly in the Holidays of
Christmas,
in Commemoration of the
Eastern
wise Men, led by the Star to visit our
Redeemer
in the Manger at
Bethlehem,
where they made their Presents to the Divine Infant. These Eggs are sometimes eaten in those Days ordained, where Flesh is sorbidden, but not till the Sun is set, or, if no Sun appears, not till Candle-light.
of
Muscovy,
they don't relish the better for their Colouring, and gaudy Outsides. Even
Roscius
among the
Romans
(though the Actors did not keep up their Reputations equal to those of
Athens)
was mark'd out as a Pattern for the Youth of
Rome
to follow in Decency of Dress, and Morals.
Tully
says,
Cum artifex ejusmodi sit, ut solus dignus videatur esse, qui in scena spectetur; tum vir ejusmodi est, ut solus dignus videatur qui eo non accedat.
—
So excellent an Artist, that he seem'd the only Person to adorn the Stage; and yet, in all other respects, so complete in every Grace and Virtue, that he seem'd the only Person that should not take up with such a Profession.
Moral Virtue, and a decent Behaviour, will gain Esteem from People of every Rank, will add Weight to the Characters they represent, and even may atone for want of Excellency.
Lessons for the Stage may be convey'd, in one respect, stronger than from the Pulpit, if the Audience were attentive as they should be at Church: For a Play well wrote, and well perform'd, where Virtue suffers, or meets its just Reward, must have strong Force upon the Mind, where the Eye is suppos'd to view the very Persons in the real Circumstances of History. What then will add to this Imagination? Why, the Performers to be as blameless as human Nature will allow. I remember a virtuous Actress (or one reputed so) repeating two Lines in King
Lear,
at her Exit in the Third Act,
Arm'd in my
Virgin Innocence
I'll fly,
My Royal Father to relieve, or die,
receive a Plaudit from the Audience, more as a Reward for her reputable Character, than, perhaps, her Acting claim'd; when a different
Actress
in the same Part, more fam'd for her Stage-Performance than the other, at the Words
Virgin Innocence,
has created a Horselaugh (no Reflection on the Audience, since a Theatrical Term), and the Scene of generous Pity and Compassion at the Close turn'd to Ridicule. Here the Audience are disconcerted, and the Reality of the Subject before them loses much of its Force, with the Imagination debilitated, if not turn'd another Way. On the other hand, indeed, if a Person who acts
Iago,
be suspected to wear a Heart that way inclin'd, he appears stronger in
that
Character, and meets with an Applause that condemns him. We may find, by these Examples, Virtue is of some Use upon the Stage, and would be more so, if more practis'd. To give Instructions to an Actor, is a very difficult Task; for if much is wanting, it is not worth while to give any. A rough Diamond may be polish'd, but few Pebbles are worth cutting. After many Requisites for the Stage, bad Action will even cause a good Figure to appear aukward; and tho' there may be Rules for Action, yet Nature is the best Teacher; and if an Actor of good Understanding is truly possessed with his Character, the true Action will involuntarily occur. I remember Mrs.
Porter,
to whom Nature had been niggard in Voice and Face, so great in many Parts, as Lady
Macbeth, Alicia
in
Jane Shore, Hermione
in the
Distrest Mother,
and many Parts of the Kind, that her just Action, Eloquence of Look and Gesture, mov'd Astonishment! and yet I have heard her declare, she left the Action to the Possession of the Sentiments in the Part she perform'd. I have known some tolerable Actors, as to Countenance and Elocution, that have mortify'd both by the Badness of Action, more especially the proper Use of their Hands: Had they worn each in a Scarf, they had been much more tolerable, as it is the most expressive Part in the Action of the Body, so as
Shakespear
says,
like an ill-sheath'd Knife, it will most hurt its Master.
I think
Quintilian
says, all the Parts of the Body assist the Speaker; but the Hands speak without a Tongue, supplicate, threaten, call, dismiss, provoke, shew every Passion of the Soul. The Hands are the general Language of Mankind, and we need no Grammar but Nature to understand it. So by their aukward Use upon the Stage, we may turn the Serious into Ridicule. Mr.
Booth
would often regret the want of Opportunity for an Actor to continue in a graceful Attitude, which
Nicolini
the
Italian
Singer was so masterly familiar with, between the
Retornels
of a Song, and other Occasions: Yet when Mr.
Booth
had the least Opportunity, he shew'd he only wanted it. I remember in the 5th Act of
Othello,
while he is listening to
Emilia
's speaking to
Desdemona,
after she is suppos'd to be strangled, he suited his Attitude and Countenance to the Circumstances of the Scene, that I have not Art to describe, but the treble repeated Applauses of the Audience, while he was silent, spoke such high Approbation, that Miss
Santlow
(afterwards Mrs.
Booth)
us'd to say,
She thought the Audience were pleas'd poor
Desdemona
was strangled out of the Way
Of all the various Passions of Grief, a manly Sorrow is the most difficult to express. And of all the Actors I have ever yet seen, I must be pardon'd if I give the Preference to Mr.
Wilks.
No Heart, that was capable of being touch'd, but must have sympathiz'd at his Manner of speaking one Line in the
Orphan
to
Monimia,
in the Fifth Act.
My fatal Love, alas! has ruin'd thee!
And yet I have heard it spoke when it has given me no more Concern, than if a Voice had pierced my Ear with
Kettles or Pots to mend! Old Brass to mend!
If moving the Passions is a great Art in Acting, I think Mr.
Wilks
was Master of that Art. There was no avoiding feeling
his
Distress in another Line, when he performed the Part of the
Royal Merchant
in the
Beggars Bush,
a Comedy of
Fletcher
's. The Character is noted for beneficent Charity; and, when his flintyhearted Creditors had just press'd him for Payment,
Clause
his old Beadsman (tho' his Father in Disguise) comes as if to beg his usual Charity, when the Merchant replies with such a Tone that sinks into the Soul:
Clause,
I pray thee leave me; for, by my Troth, I have nothing now to give thee.
Comparison is the true Touchstone of Excellence, and brighten'd Brass by a false Light might be taken for Gold, if not try'd.
In the 4th Act of
Macbeth,
when he is told by
Lenox
of the Loss of his Wife and Children, his Mixture of Sorrow and manly Grief at
He has no Children! Butcher! If he had,
The Thought of them would sure have stirr'd Remorse!
drew Tears from almost every Eye, when if he had blubber'd like a School-boy whipt, the touching Scene would have rais'd Laughter, in the place of Grief. And yet some particular People will not allow Mr.
Wilks
's Excellence to stand in Tragedy. If, indeed, he had attempted the Parts of
Cato, Lear, Macbeth, Henry
the VIIIth,
Melantius,
and a countless Catalogue of others in the same Class, I might have join'd in their Opinion; but while there is a
Juba,
an
Edgar, Macduff, Buckingham,
and
Amintor,
in the same Plays, I don't desire to see a better Performer in that Cast of Playing than Mr.
Wilks:
In
Hamlet
he pleas'd all the Audience; and if the best Judges laugh'd at his Parts in Comedy, I can't conceive they have shed more Tears since his much-lamented Death, at any of the above-mentioned Plays. I remember a few Years ago a Dispute arose between Two Theatrical Gentlemen upon
this
Stage, concerning the Propriety of a particular Speech; the one, to enforce his Argument, told the other, he never heard it spoke otherwise on the
English
Stage.
Pho,
reply'd the other Disputant,
that was the old Way of
Acting
! A truly great Actor, that stood by, reply'd,
Learn the old Way first, and when you are perfect, then begin a new one, if you can find it out: Art may invent Fashions in our Dress; but Nature is the same as the Habits of the
Turks,
which they have never yet alter'd.
The Cloaths of the first
Ottoman
Prince is the Model of the Emperor that now reigns, and, as the divine
Pope
paints the unalterable Goddess,
Unerring Nature, still divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and universal Light;
Life, Force, and Beauty, must to all impart,
At once, the Source, and End, and Test of Art.
I have known many Actors with excellent Voices; so I have often known common Ballad-singers in the Streets with strong Lungs and Voices; but, for want of a Manner with Judgment, murder an excellent Song, and yet extort Praise from their Auditors. A Sowgelder's Horn will pierce the Ear, and alarm all the Dogs in the Parish; but I believe most People would rather hear a Trumpet. The Voice, like an Instrument of Music, must be put in Tune, and, if managed by a skilful Actor, whose Mind feels the Passions, will send out the proper Tone, when a Bungler in Music does but harshly grate upon the Ear. But who is ignorant of this? If this is the Disease of the Stage, where is the Remedy? It must certainly be in the Hands of the Manager, tho' no very easy Task. The Circumstances of a Theatre very often oblige the Directors to thrust Persons into Characters too weak to support the Weight of them: Vanity is blended in most human Compositions, and the Stage is seldom free from it; therefore, when an Actor is once in Possession of a Part (Male or Female), they think it a very great Hardship to give it up to a better Performer. There are a much larger Number of common Soldiers in an Army than commanding Officers, and we have some few Instances of a Soldier rising to Preferment by Merit, whilst others grow grey with a Musquet upon their Shoulders; and yet, at some Time or other, a Soldier may do the Duty of a Corporal, if he is indisposed, or out of the Way: But that Exigence does not give him a Title to the Post. I remember an Actor was taken into the Theatre in
Drury-Lane,
for playing the Part of
Caesar Borgia
in a private Play; and when Mr.
Booth
was studying the Part, he thought it the greatest Oppression (as he call'd it) that could be thrown upon him: Nay, after Mr.
Booth
had perform'd the Part, with universal Applause, several successive Nights, this Person said, nay, bound it with an Oath, that
Booth did not know how to speak a single Line:
Yet this Person was a Man of Sense and Learning. But there are more Requisites to make a finish'd Actor: Therefore, as they do not always judge candidly for themselves, it is requisite they should have one of unbyass'd and superior Knowledge to judge for them. When such Actors above-mention'd take Parts, as they thrust themselves into for their Benefits, as is too often the Case (and I think ought not to be allow'd), it proves, as
Shakespear
says,
—Like a Player,
Bellowing his Passion, till he break the Spring,
And his rack'd Voice jar to the Audience.
There are too many Performers, of both Sexes, that are fond of choosing capital Parts for their Benefits, that sit upon them
—Like a Giant's Robe
Upon a dwarfish Thief:
And, at the same Time, excuse themselves from Rehearsals (that should prepare them to act with some Decency, at least), to cultivate their Interest; and, when they come to perform at Night, only take Shame to themselves, tho' they oft disconcert others; and may truly say,
Like a dull Actor, now I have forgot
My Part, and stop ev'n to a full Disgrace.
That's villainous, and shews a most pitiful Ambition in the Fool that uses it.
SHAK.
The noble Gift, of Playing well, is not given to all that play: Yet as, in building of Houses, there must be provided many Hands, even to the carrying the Morter; a
Morter-carrier
must be had, as well as the rest of the Hands in the Work: All are not equal to every Part in the Building, no more than every Actor is fit for every Part. If they attempt to wade out of their Depths, they are in great Danger of drowning; and, as our immortal Poet writes,
As in a Theatre the Eyes of Men,
After a well-grac'd Actor leaves the Stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next;
Will think his Prattle to be tedious.
Yet I have known many Persons belonging to a Theatre, not eminent in any superior Part, never offend, through their private Characters in Life. A modest Behaviour is commendable in every Station, but much more observed in Persons of a public Profession, where the Eyes of Thousands are upon them. Confidence, Pride, and Vanity, will draw down Contempt and Ridicule from Superiours, with Disregard from all.
Of all the Causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring Judgment, and misguide the Mind;
What the weak Heart, with strongest Byass, rules,
Is Pride, the never-failing Vice of Fools.
POPE.
Humility, Affability, and Good-nature, will claim Regard from all Ranks; and if any Stains are thrown upon the Profession, such Qualifications will wipe them off: Yet I think there are no Spots but what they themselves throw upon it. We are apt, even in strange Company, to out with some Theatrical Quotation, that seldom fails of declaring what Business we follow. What need a
Taylor
talk of his
Yard
and
Sheers,
a
Smith
of his
Forge,
or a
Brewer
of his
Grains?
Let the
Buskin
and
Sock
be left in the Theatre. I know an eminent Actor, invited to dine in a mix'd Company of both Sexes, of Condition: When the Dinner seem'd a little tedious, before it made its Entrance, a Gentleman, one of the Invited, starts up, and cry'd,
Zounds, Mr.—, give us the
Ghost
in
Hamlet,
by way of Grace
! The Master of the House reply'd, there was no Meat he could give him was worth one Speech; besides,
he did not invite Mr.—to pay for his Dinner that Way. It was only in Retaliation for the Supper he gave him the Night before, on the Stage, where no Cook but himself could dress such a Dish of black Broth
(meaning
Othello). So, by your Rule of Courtesy, if I had invited
Fausan,
I should have desired him to dance the
Buffoon
before Dinner.
This was the Height of Civility to one, and a sufficient Rebuke to the other. The Fop (for he was no less), to plead his Excuse, told the Company, he had been many Times with several Actors, who took as much Pleasure to speak Speeches, as he to hear them; and he did not doubt but they were People of great Judgment; for they generally own'd, other Performers did not act so well as themselves.
Yes,
reply'd the Master of the House,
Self-praise is always to be believed; yet I have known a Sign-painter criticize upon
Raphael. Wit will be often entertaining, but a small Portion of one's own (if we had it) is better than a Cart-load of other Peoples: Yet Quotations from the
Drama
may shew some Judgment, when properly apply'd, and not too often. The Author of a Comedy, call'd
The Play's the Plot,
shews the Strolling Players, not improperly, by their Style.
It is something surprising to me, that where Vice, in every Shape, with Folly, is expos'd daily to their View, Performers on the Stage should have any Faults, or, at least, Art enough to disguise them so well, that few should find them out. To hide the Passions Nature has sown in the Seeds of the human Race, will prevent their Growth, and, in Time, destroy them. May we not learn Virtue, and avoid Vice, by the instructive Lessons of the Drama? What premeditated Murderer would not feel Compunction, or, perhaps, Repentance, at the Speech of
Torrismond
to the
Queen
in the
Spanish Fryar,
when she has given Commission to the Murder of the good
King Sancho?
Think, timely think, on the last dreadful Day!
How will you tremble there to stand expos'd,
And foremost in the Rank of guilty Ghosts,
That must be doom'd for Murder! Think on Murder!
That Troop is plac'd apart from common Crimes:
The Damn'd themselves start wide, and shun that Band,
As far more black, and more forlorn, than they.
The Queen's Answer.
'Tis terrible! it shakes! it staggers me!
I knew this Truth, but I repell'd the Thought.
Sure there is none but fears a future State:
And when the most obdurate swear they do not,
Their trembling Hearts belye their boasting Tongues.
We may find, by this last Speech, the former had its desired Effect; since the Queen repented her impious Intentions.
In
Rule a Wife
we have another, upon the crying Sin of
Adultery,
which I shall set down as another
Memento.
The Duke of
Modena
tries all his Arts to debauch
Margarita,
the Wife of
Leon,
a Woman of a vicious Inclination, who consented to marry
Leon
merely as a Tool, that she might indulge her Passions; but by the Spirit and Conduct of her Husband was reclaim'd. When the Duke, by the Appointment of the worthy
Leon,
permits their meeting, after a ridiculous Fright from a Drunkard in the Cellar, which the Duke takes for a Spirit, he cries,
O! I am most miserable!
Margarita,
the Wife, answers,
You are, indeed!
And, like a foolish Thing, have made yourself so.
Could not your own Discretion tell ye, Sir,
When I was marry'd, I was none of yours?
Your Eyes were then commanded to look off me,
And I now stand in a Circle, and secure.
Mark me but this, and then, Sir, be most miserable,
'Tis Sacrilege to violate a Wedlock:
You rob two Temples, make yourself twice guilty;
You ruin her's, and spot her noble Husband's.
We might go through the sacred
Decalogue,
with the Assistance of those Flowers in the spacious Fields of Poetry.
The Stage (says the
Female Spectator),
by its Institution, is the School of Virtue, and the Scourge of Vice; and when either of these noble Purposes is defeated, it is no Wonder that Persons of true Sense and Honour choose to absent themselves, and oblige their Families to do so too.
So reasonable an Entertainment, as the Drama in its Purity, must be, in some sort, a Promoter to Virtue; therefore every Manager of a Theatre should make it his Study to exhibit no other Pieces but what aim to that End; and, by Degrees, throw off the looser Drama, and constitute, in its place, those that the wisest, and most virtuous, need not be asham'd to partake of the innocent Amusement. I do not pretend to set up for a Monitor; but every Stage Performer would find his Account in reforming the Stage, as well as themselves. I do not mean this Admonition to any particular Theatre, but all in general, at Home and Abroad; for our Plantations in
America
have been voluntarily visited by some Itinerants;
Jamaica,
in particular. I had an Account, from a Gentleman who was possess'd of a large Estate in the Island, that a Company, in the Year 1733. came there, and clear'd a large Sum of Money; where they might have made moderate Fortunes, if they had not been too busy with the Growth of the Country. They receiv'd 370 Pistoles the first Night, to the
Beggars Opera;
but within the Space of two Months they bury'd their third
Polly,
and two of their Men. The Gentlemen of the Island, for some Time, took their Turns upon the Stage, to keep up the Diversion; but this did not hold long; for, in two Months more, there were but one old Man, a Boy, and a Woman of the Company, left: The rest died, either with the Country-Distemper
The Country Distempers are, the Dry-gripes, and
Tenesmus,
which generally ends in a Sanguinary Flux: Most New-comers, for want of a proper Regimen, fall into it. The Dry-gripes brings a final Dissolution in two Days, if no Remedy keeps it back. The other Distemper, indeed, is slower in its Execution and Cure. Sir
Hans Sloane
tells us, the Badness of the Water contributed to all these Distempers, which is brackish near the Sea-coasts: But swallowing large Draughts of Rum Punch, with the fatal Dew that falls in the Night, when the Body is carelesly exposed, heated with drinking, is the chief Cause. Place any woollen Garment expos'd to the noxious Vapours of the Night, and it will imbibe double its Weight of Dew before Sun-rise. Those that escape the Seasoning, as they term it, seldom feel the fatal Effects of it afterwards. This is more dangerous on the Sea-coasts of the Island; the mid Parts are much more salubrious, both as to Air and Water.
, or the common Beverage of the Place, the noble Spirit of Rumpunch, which is generally fatal to New-comers. The shatter'd Remains, with upwards of 2000 Pistoles in Bank, embark'd for
Carolina,
to join another Company at
Charlestown,
but were cast away in the Voyage. Had the Company been more blest with the Virtue of Sobriety, &c. they might, perhaps, have liv'd to carry home the Liberality of those generous Islanders.
Even the Wicked have some Regard to Virtue, are often aw'd by Persons that are reputed to wear that amiable Character. Persons on the Stage, which is too liable to Insults, escape them there, unless, as in a Crowd of Quarrellers, where a Looker on may meet with an accidental Stroke. But these Theatrical Squabbles are too often ungenerous from the Audience, or, I should say, from a small Part of the Audience; for a Dozen, when they are pleas'd to take it into their Heads, shall disturb the Whole, and disconcert the best Actors in the World. Is not this a gross Affront upon the rest? What Right have I to rob my Neighbour of his Money, and Satisfaction? He pays the Price to be entertain'd for two or three Hours, and, perhaps, would be as well contented with a well-acted Play, as a Dinner. Now, if I should come to you, Sir, be you who you will, while you are sat down to your Meal at a Tavern, turn the Drawers down Stairs, throw your Provision about, prevent your eating your Dinner with any Satisfaction; I should think you a very good-natur'd Gentleman, if you only thrust me out of your Room; because I should imagine I deserv'd worse Treatment.
I remember, above twenty Years past, I was one of the Audience, at a new Play: Before me sat a Sea-Officer, with whom I had some Acquaintance; on each Hand of him a Couple of Sparks, both prepar'd with their offensive Instruments vulgarly term'd
Cat-calls,
which they were often tuning, before the Play began. The Officer did not take any Notice of them till the Curtain drew up; but when they continued their Sow-gelder's Music (as he unpolitely call'd it), he beg'd they would not prevent his hearing the Actors, tho' they might not care whether they heard, or no; but they took little Notice of his civil Request, which he repeated again and again, to no Purpose: But, at last, one of them condescended to tell him,
If he did not like it, he might let it alone. Why, really,
reply'd the Sailor,
I do not like it, and would have you let your Noise alone; I have paid my Money to see and hear the Play, and your ridiculous Noise not only hinders me, but a great many other People that are here, I believe, with the same Design: Now if you prevent us, you rob us of our Money, and our Time; therefore I intreat you, as you look like Gentlemen, to behave as such.
One of them seem'd mollified, and put his Whistle in his Pocket; but the other was incorrigible. The blunt
Tar
made him one Speech more.
Sir,
said he,
I advise you, once more, to follow the Example of this Gentleman, and put up your Pipe.
But the
Piper
sneer'd in his Face, and clap'd his troublesome Instrument to his Mouth, with Cheeks swell'd out like a Trumpeter, to give it a redoubled, and louder Noise; but, like the broken Crow of a Cock in a Fright, the Squeak was stopt in the Middle by a Blow from the Officer, which he gave him with so strong a Will, that his Child's Trumpet was struck thro' his Cheek, and his Companion led him out to a Surgeon; so that we had more Room, and less Noise; and not one that saw or heard the Affair, but what were well pleased with his Treatment; and, notwithstanding his great Blustering, he never thought it worth his while to call upon the Officer, tho' he knew where to find him. It is certainly a Mark of Cowardice to insult in public Company, or strike a Man who has his Hands bound; and yet I have known a poor Actor pelted by Puppies, that would run away at the Sight of a Stage-Foil, that has neither Edge or Point.
As Cheats to play with those still aim,
That do not understand the Game;
So Cowards never use their Might,
But against those that
must
not fight.
Hud.
Actors
in
France
meet with Respect (I mean if they will endeavour to deserve it, which in my Opinion they may easily do); and are acceptable in the Company of Rank and Figure in that polite Nation; and tho' the Clergy scrupled to give
Moliere
Moliere,
the great Comic Poet of
France,
was esteem'd an excellent Actor. He died in performing the Part of the
Hypochondriac
in a Comedy of his own Writeing, call'd
Le Malade Imaginaire,
which is Part of a Comedy in
English
call'd the
Mother-in-law)
on the 17th of
February,
1679, in his grand Climacteric. The Archbishop of
Paris
would not allow his Body to be inhum'd in consecrated Ground, which the King being informed of, sent for the Archbishop, and expostulated with him; but he was an obstinate Churchman, and would not willingly condescend to his Majesty's Persuasions. The King, finding him unwilling to comply, desired to know how many Feet deep the Holy Ground reach'd? The Bishop reply'd,
About eight. Well,
reply'd the King,
I find there is no getting the better of your Scruples; therefore let his Grave be dug twelve Feet, that's four below your consecrated Ground, and let them bury him there.
The Archbishop was obliged to comply; for
Lewis the XIVth
would be obey'd.
Moliere
left behind him thirty-two Dramatic Pieces, which are held by the
French
in the highest Esteem. A
French
Gentleman, in giving me his Opinion of this excellent Author, told me
Moliere compos'd
37
Pieces for the Stage; and tho' he had left the World twice that Number of Years, all the Dramatic Writers of the
French
Nation had not produced twice as many Comedies equal to his.
Most of his Comedies have given a Foundation to our
English
Dramatic Writers; but none have met with more Success than the
Miser,
and the
Mock-Doctor,
by Mr.
Fielding.
the Rites of the Church at his Death, yet
Lewis the XIVth
often convers'd with him in his Closet, as well as in Public.
I shall not say much more on this Subject, and it may be, I have said too much already. For I am convinced,
Nil sub sole novum,
no not even in Fashions; for what we receive for new, are only the old ones taking their Course over again. The Stage is the Epitome of the great World, as
Boileau
has said long ago.
Le monde à mon avis est comme une Grand Theatre, &c.
The World, in my Opinion, is a Stage,
Where, in deceiving others, all engage:
Hence the discerning Eye can often scan
The Player widely diff'ring from the Man:
The Blockhead, prating from another's Book,
The Scholar apes with supercilious Look;
And the sly Knave, by putting Virtue on,
Deceives the Virtuous till they are undone.
'Tis very possible
Boileau
might have
Shakespear
in view, in these Lines, from that of
Antonio
's Speech in the first Act of the
Merchant
of
Venice;
I hold this World but as a World,
Gratiano,
A Stage, where ev'ry Man must play his Part, &c.
The
French
have borrowed from us, as well as we have from them.
Le Comte d' Essex
is not only plann'd upon
Banks's Earl of Essex,
but has many Speeches for several Pages together translated. The best modern Tragic Poet
France
has produced since
Corneille
and
Racine
(Monsieur
This noted Author, about twenty Years past, resided in
London.
His Acquaintance with the
Laureat
brought him frequently to the Theatre, where (he confess'd) he improved in the
English
Orthography more in a Week, than he should otherwise have done by labour'd Study in a Month. I furnish'd him every Evening with the Play of the Night, which he took with him into the
Orchestre
(his accustomed Seat): In four or five Months, he not only convers'd in elegant
English,
but wrote it with exact Propriety. In time, he wore off the Prejudice he first conceiv'd at the Catastrophe of our
English Tragedy,
the Custom of killing upon the Stage never having been introduced on the
French Theatre,
till the
Zara
of this Author, which he plann'd from
Shakespear's Othello.
The last Speech of
Osmin
the Emperor (after he has stab'd
Zara)
which he ends by killing himself, is to the same Purpose with
Othello
's, and the same Sentiments. His Attempt answer'd his Wish, for
Zaire
in
Paris
had above fifty successive crowded Audiences. The
French
open'd their Senses to the true Fire of our
English Drama,
where they discover'd the Spirit of Liberty, and, for the first time, shew'd that Monarchs had no Right from Heaven to enslave their Subjects, and that God-like Liberty was a Gift from Power Almighty. The Freedom of his Pen gave Disgust to People in Power, and their Resentment occasioned his Banishment from
Paris.
Shortly after, he made himself a voluntary Exile, where his Wit gains him many Admirers, and his good Sense and Wisdom links them in the Lands of Friendship.
Voltaire),
has in
Oedipus
follow'd our
English
Play of that Name, and ends his third Act with a verbal Translation from
Nat. Lee.
To you, just Gods, I make my last Appeal:
Or clear my Virtues, or my Crimes reveal, &c.
His
Zaire
looks after
Othello
in its Jealousy, and all the rest of his Plays seem to be of
English
Extraction.
Now let us leave
Greece, Rome, France, Britain,
and the rest of the World, and retire to this Kingdom, where no Snake in the Grass will rise to bite the unwary Traveller, no Blind-worm or Adder to hiss us into Fears, Viper or Toad to molest our Eyes, or noisome Spider to spread her Venom, which, according to some of the antient
Irish
Bards, were banish'd the Island many Ages before St.
Patric
The
Irish
History informs us, that Prince
Gadelus
(I think of the
Milesian
Race) in his Travels visited
Pharaoh
King of
Egypt,
fell in Love with
Scota
the King's Daughter, and married her. This
Gadelus
or
Gadel
(for the Royal Records of
Tarah
call him by both Names, as I am informed) in
Egypt
was stung by a
Serpent
as he lay asleep, and was healed by the Prophet
Moses.
The
Irish
is thus elegantly translated by a native Bard.
The hissing Serpent, eager for his Prey,
Ascends the Couch where sleeping
Gadel
lay:
In winding Mazes there himself he roll'd,
And leap'd upon him with a dreadful Fold,
And sheek his forked Tongue, and then around
His Neck he twists, and gave a deadly Wound.
The subtle Poison spreads thro' ev'ry Vein;
No Art, no Juice of Herbs, can ease the Pain;
Till
Moses,
with his never-failing Wand,
Touch'd the raw Wound, which heal'd at his Command.
When
Gadelus,
with his Wife
Scota
(from this Princess
Ireland
was first call'd
Scota)
and his Followers, were leaving
Egypt
to settle some new Colony, the following Prophecy was declar'd by
Moses,
translated by the same elegant Hand.
The Holy Prophet was inspir'd, to see
Into Events of dark Futurity:
And said, For thee, young Prince, has Heav'n in store
Blessings, that Mortals ne'er enjoy'd before:
For wheresoe'er the Royal Line shall come,
Fruitful shall be their Land, and safe their Home;
No poisonous Snake or Serpent shall deface
The Beauty of thy Fields, or taint thy Grass;
No noisome Reptile, with invenom'd Teeth,
Shall ever swell that Land, or be the Cause of Death:
But Innocence and Arts shall flourish there,
And Learning in its lovely Shapes appear;
The Poets there shall in their Songs proclaim
Thy glorious Acts, and never-dying Name.
Our
English
Historians mention the Bards of antient
Britain,
but we cannot find any of their Productions extant; when we are assured there are many
Irish
Historians and Poets still to be found in
Ireland,
as well as
England
(more especially in the Library of the Duke of
Chandos)
preserved even from the Depredations of the
Danes,
Destroyers that were utter Enemies to Science and Learning.
.
This Kingdom of
Ireland
is one of the last in
Europe
where established
Theatres
were erected; yet I am assur'd one of the first, whose Bards or Poets have celebrated in Verse the illustrious Actions of their Monarchs, nor any Nation in the World, where Poetry and Poets were in such high Esteem. Every antient and noble Family had one in their Houshold, and their Kings their
Poet Laureats,
as we have in
England,
but long, long before the
English
invaded
Ireland.
The Poets had their Seats in their great assembled Triennial Councils, which you may find by the following Lines translated from the original
Irish
by the same Hand.
Once in three Years the great Convention sat,
And for the public Happiness debate.
The King was seated on a Royal Throne,
And on his Face majestic Greatness shone.
A Monarch for heroic Deeds design'd
(For noble Acts become a noble Mind):
Around him, summon'd by his strict Command,
The Peers, the Priests, and Commons of the Land:
The
Bards,
or
POETS,
are indulg'd a Place,
And Men of Learning the Assembly grace.
Here Love and Union ev'ry Look confess'd,
And Joy and Friendship beat in ev'ry Breast.
Justice, by nothing biass'd or inclin'd,
Is deaf to Pity, to Temptation blind;
For here with stern and steddy Rule she sways,
And flagrant Crimes with certain Vengeance pays;
Tho' just, yet so indulgently severe,
Like Heav'n, she pities those she cannot spare.
A few Lines more of the same Author, and same Translator, will tell you the
Poet Laureat
's Business at Court; for he was one of the ten Officers that attended the Kings of
Ireland.
A Poet to applaud, or boldly blame,
And justly to give Infamy or Fame:
For without him the freshest Laurels fade,
And Vice to dark Oblivion is betray'd.
By these Lines we may gather, that their Poets were their
Historians;
and it may be suppos'd, if they had thought of the Drama, we might have had some elegant Tragedies handed down to us. But to proceed.
Mr.
Ogilby
the Master of the Revels in this Kingdom (who had it from proper Authority) inform'd Mr.
Ashbury,
that Plays had been often acted in the Castle of
Dublin
when
Blount,
Lord
Mountjoy,
was Lord-Lieutenant here in the latter End of the Reign of Queen
Elizabeth.
And Mr.
Ashbury
saw a Bill
for Wax Tapers, dated the
7
th Day of
September, 1601. (Queen
Elizabeth
's Birth-day)
for the Play of
The Play of
Gorboduc
was written by the Right Honourable
Thomas Sackville
Lord
Buckhurst,
afterwards created Earl of
Dorset
in the first Year of King
James
the First's Reign. This Dramatic Piece was accounted the best of its Kind at the Time it was wrote; it was first published under the Title of
Ferrex
and
Porrex
in 1582. and 1590. reprinted under the Title of
Gorboduc.
This was a favourite Play of Queen
Elizabeth
's, as may be supposed by her seeing it twice acted; first, by the Gentlemen of the
Inner-Temple,
and afterwards by the Children of her Majesty's Revels. Mr.
Spence,
Professor of Poetry in the University of
Oxford,
has reprinted this Play about nine Years ago, and dedicated it to the Earl of
Middlesex,
Son to his Grace the Duke of
Dorset,
descended from this Author.
Gorboduc
done at the Castle, one-and-twenty Shillings and two Groats.
But it is to be supposed they were Gentlemen of the Court that were the Actors on this Occasion.
I cannot find any established Theatre in
Dublin
till the Year 1635. when the Earl of
Strafford
was Lord-Lieutenant of this Kingdom, in the tenth Year of the Reign of King
Charles
the First,
John Ogilby,
Esq
then Master of the Revels, under the Title of Historiographer to his Majesty, and Master of the Revels in the Kingdom of
Ireland,
and I believe the first that wore the last Title. This Theatre was built by his Directions in
Warberg-Street,
where the Company continued to act, till the unhappy Rebellion broke out in the Year 1641
Henry Burnel,
Esq
a Gentleman of
Ireland,
wrote a Play call'd
Landgartha,
a Tragi-Comedy, acted at the New
Theatre
in
Dublin,
1641. with very great Applause (so says the Title); but there are no Actors Names printed in the
Drama.
The Prologue was spoken by an
Amazon,
arm'd with a Battle-ax, to bespeak the Favour of the Audience. The Plot is taken from the
Danish
History of
Saxo Grammaticus.
This Play was the last that was performed on the Theatre in
Warberg-street
before the Rebellion broke out, which was discovered by Mr.
Owen O Connolly
but the Night before the Execution, which prevented the City of
Dublin
being seiz'd on the 22d of
October
1641. as intended; but it was too late to give Notice to the rest of the Kingdom, which felt the fatal Effect of the Rebellion.
. The Theatre was then shut up, by Order of the Lords Justices, sign'd
William Parsons,
and
John Borlace.
We do not find any mention of a
Theatre
in
Dublin,
till the Year after the Restoration 1661. which was built on the Spot where the Theatre now stands in
Orange-street,
commonly call'd
Smock-alley;
how it came by the last Name, may be easily guess'd.
We find in the Year 1662.
Pompey,
a Tragedy acted at the
Theatre
in
Dublin,
translated from the
French
of
Corneille:
It is wrote in Verse by Mrs.
Catharine Phillips
(the fam'd
Orinda)
term'd by her cotemporary Poets the
English Sappho.
This Lady wrote another Play call'd
Horace,
taken from the same
French
Author, but neither of them play'd in
England,
till after her Death, which fell out in the Year 1664. in the 31st Year of her Age, of the Small-Pox. From this we may gather that she resided in
Ireland,
since both her Plays were acted in this Kingdom some Years before they were perform'd in
England.
The Theatre in
Smock-Alley
was so badly built, that in the Year 1671. some Part of it sell down, when two were kill'd, and several sorely maimed. We can give little Account of the Theatre here from this Time till after the
Revolution;
all that can be given will be noted in the Life of
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
Playing was discontinued during the Troubles between King
William
and
James
the Second; but when quiet Peace was restored, the
Theatre
opened again with
Othello
Moor of
Venice;
the Part of
Othello,
by Mr.
Wilks
(See more of this in the Memoirs of that excellent Player). This Play was acted by Officers mostly about the Castle, Mr.
Ashbury Iago
only, for the Company was not form'd till three Months after, when they began again with
Othello,
which was on
March
23. 1691-2. the Day of proclaiming the End of the
Irish
War. The Company play'd on with Success many Years, and I find by the Cast of Sir
George Etheridge
's three Comedies, there has not been a better in all its Branches since, which I shall set down in proper Order, that the Reader may judge for himself. The Cast of these three Plays I had from the late well-received Comedian,
Thomas Griffith,
Esq
The
Comical Revenge;
or,
Love in a Tub.
Lord Bevil by Mr. Schoolding
Lord Beaufort by Mr. Buckley
Colonel Bruce by Mr. Booth
Louis by Mr. Keen
Sir Frederic Frolick by Mr. Wilks
Dufoy by Mr. Bowen
Sir Nicolas Cully by Mr. Norris
Wheedle by Mr. Estcourt
Palmer by Mr. Trefusis
Graciana by Mrs. Knightly
Aurelia by Mrs. Ashbury
Mrs. Rich by Mrs. Hook
Laetitia by Mrs. Harrison
Mrs. Grace by Mrs. Martin
Jenny by Mrs. Schoolding
She Wou'd if she Cou'd.
Sir Oliver Cockwood by Mr. Norris
Sir Joscelin Jolly by Mr. Estcourt
Mr. Courtal by Mr. Wilks
Mr. Freeman by Mr. Booth
Mr. Rakehell by Mr. Griffith
Thomas by Mr. Trefusis
Lady Cockwood by Mrs. Smith
Ariana by Mrs. Schoolding
Gatty by Mrs. Hook
Mrs. Sentry by Mrs. Ashbury
Mrs. Gazet by Mrs. Harrison
Mrs. Trinket by Mrs. Martin
The
Man of Mode;
Or, Sir
Fopling Flutter.
Dorimant by Mr. Wilks
Medley by Mr. Booth
Old Bellair by Mr. Estcourt
Young Bellair by Mr. Elliot
Sir Fopling Flutter by Mr. Griffith
Shoemaker by Mr. Bowen
Handy by Mr. Norris
Parson by Mr. Trefusis
Lady Townley by Mrs. Smith
Loveit by Mrs. Knightly
Belinda by Mrs. Schoolding
Emilia by Mrs. Elliot
Lady Woodvil by Mrs. Martin
Harriet by Mrs. Ashbury
Pert by Mrs. Hook
Busy by Mrs. Harrison
Orange-Woman by Mrs. Cross
Here we may see Messieurs
Ashbury, Wilks, Booth, Keen, Estcourt, Norris, Griffith, Bowen, Cross,
and
Trefusis,
on one Stage at the same Time in
Dublin,
most of them eminently great in their different Way of acting. For the Women, I know little of any but Mrs.
Ashbury;
yet I have been inform'd by Mr.
Wilks,
that Mrs.
Knightly,
Mrs.
Hook,
and Mrs.
Smith,
were very good Actresses in their different Parts. Mrs.
Ashbury
is taken Notice of in the Memoirs of her Husband. I will put down the Cast of three Plays more in Year 1715. when I was first in this Kingdom, and shall begin with
Timon
of
Athens
; or, the
Man-Hater.
Timon by Mr. Tho. Elrington
Alcibiades by Mr. Evans
Apemantus by Mr. Ashbury †
Nicias by Mr. Fr. Elrington
Phaeax by Mr. Thurmond
Aelius by Mr. Trefusis †
Cleon by Mr. Quin
Isidore by Mr. Hall
Thrasillus by Mr. Daugharty
Mr.
Daugharty
was found dead, suppos'd by some by a Fall down the Stairs of a Cellar; while others imagine he was murder'd by a Watchman with his Watch-Bill, by a Cut in his Skull; but the Murderer was never found out.
Demetrius by Mr. Leigh
Poet by Mr. Griffith
Painter by Mr. Oates
Jeweller by Mr. Bowman
Musician by Mr. Hallam
Those with this Mark † were of the former Company.
Evandra by Mrs. Thurmond
Melissa by Mrs. Wilkins
Chloe by Mrs. Haywood
Mrs.
Haywoo
has made herself eminent to the polite World by her Writings; she is still alive. Her numerous Novels will be ever esteem'd by Lovers of that Sort of Amusement. She is likewise Authoress of three Dramatic Pieces. 1st, The
Fair Captive,
a Tragedy. 2d,
Wife to be Let,
a Comedy. Mrs.
Haywood
perform'd the capital Part in this Play. 3d,
Frederic
Duke of
Brunswick,
a Tragedy. She also join'd with Mr.
Hatchet,
in making Songs to Mr.
Fielding
's
Tom Thumb,
which were compos'd by the ingenious Mr.
Frederic Lampe,
and perform'd often with the Title of the
Opera of Operas.
As the Pen is her chief Means of Subsistence, the World may find many Books of her Writing, tho' none have met with more Success than her
Novels,
more particularly her
Love in Excess,
&c. Her Dramatic Works have all died in their first visiting the World, being exhibited in very sickly Seasons for Poetry. Mr.
Pope
has taken her for his Goddess of
Dulaess
in his
Dunciad;
but she need not blush in such good Company.
Thais by Miss Wilson
Phrinia by Miss Schoolding
Miss
Schoolding
was marry'd to Monsieur
Moreau,
a celebrated Stage-Dancer in this Kingdom.
TAMERLANE.
Tamerlane by Mr. Ashbury
Bajazet by Mr. Tho. Elrington
Axalla by Mr. Leigh
Moneses by Mr. Evans
Prince of Tanais by Mr. Quin
Mr.
Quin
was then a Youth.
Omar by Mr. Hall
Haly by Mrs. Fitzgerald
Mrs.
Fitzgerald,
whose Maiden Name was
Swan,
generally play'd the Part of a young Man.
Stratocles by Mr. Oates
Dervise by Mr. F. Elrington
Mirvan by Mr. Minns
Zama by Mr. Boman
Arpasia by Mrs. Thurmond
Selima by Miss Wilson
The Committee; or, the Faithful
Irishman.
Colonel Careless by Mr. Ashbury
Colonel Blunt by Mr. T. Elrington
Lieutenant Story by Mr. Evans
Mr. Day by Mr. F. Elrington
Abel by Mr. Quin
Obadiah by Mr. Trefusis
Teague by Mr. Griffith
1st Committee-man by Mr. Hall
2d Committee-man by Mr. Minns
3d Committee-man by Mr. Bowman
Bookseller by Mr. Hallam
Bailiff by Mr. Kendall
Mrs. Day by Mrs. Martin
Mrs.
Martin
was the original Mrs.
Peachum,
and
Diana Trapes,
in the
Beggar's Opera.
Arabella by Mrs. Ashbury
Ruth by Mrs. Thurmond
Mrs. Chat by Miss Schoolding
Distinguished Characters in Bills were not in Fashion, at the Time these Plays were perform'd; they were printed in Order according to the Drama as they stood, not regarding the Merit of the Actor. As for Example, in
Macbeth, Duncan
King of
Scotland
appear'd first in the Bill, tho' acted by an insignificant Person; and so every other Actor appear'd according to his Dramatic Dignity, all of the same-siz'd Letter. But latterly, I can assure my Readers, I have found it a difficult Task to please some
Ladies,
as well as
Gentlemen,
because I could not find Letters large enough to please them; and some were so very fond of Elbow-room, that they would have shoved every body out but themselves, as if one Person was to do all, and have the Merit of all, like Generals of an Army; such a Victory was gained by such a King, and such a Prince, while the other Officers and Soldiers are forgot. But as
Trim
tells us in the
Funeral,
or,
Grief A-la-mode,
50,000
of such Rascals as these will make an
Alexander. I shall leave this last Quarter of a Hundred of Years to the Memory of others, that I may the sooner come to the Conclusion of my little
History,
and fall upon the
Memoirs.
I have told you the first Theatre was built in 1635. and the old
Smock-Alley
House in 1661. and now I shall proceed to the rest, as they stand at present.
In the Year 1732. a Theatrical Booth was erected by Mrs.
Violante
an
Italian
Lady, celebrated for Strength and Agility, a Qualification that does not render the Fair-Sex the least more amiable; the Strength of the Limbs, which these Sort of Undertakers expose, in my Opinion, is shockingly indecent; but hers were masculinely indelicate, and were of a Piece with the Features of her Face. I am informed, the shewing her Limbs did not meet with the Success in this Kingdom, as she had found in her elder Sister,
England;
that Lady's Children delight in such Entertainments: Bull-baiting, Boxing, Bear-garden, and Prize-fighting, will draw to them all Ranks of People, from the Peer to the Pedlar: Our late
English
Gladiator, Mr.
Figg,
of Cutting-slashing Memory, made much private Emolument by his public Valour, more especially in Linen
Mr.
Figg
informed me once, that he had not bought a Shirt for more than twenty Years, but had sold some Dozens. It was his Method, when he fought in his Amphitheatre (his Stage bearing that superb Title); he sent round to a select Number of his Scholars to borrow a Shirt for the ensuing Combat, and seldom failed of half a dozen of superfine Holland from his prime Pupils (most of the young Nobility and Gentry made it Part of their Education to march under his warlike Banner). This Champion was generally Conqueror, tho' his Shirt seldom failed of gaining a Cut from his Enemy, and sometimes his Flesh, tho' I think he never receiv'd any dangerous Wound. Most of his Scholars were at every Battle, and were sure to exult at their great Master's Victories, every Person supposing he saw the Wounds his Shirt received. Mr.
Figg
took his Opportunity to inform his Lenders of Linen, of the Chasms their Shirts received, with a Promise to send them home.
But,
said the ingenious, courageous
Figg, I seldom received any other Answer, than, Damn you, keep it.
I shall not enter into the Merits of this Method in procuring Linen; but, if it was a Fraud (as he told me), he was never found Guilty. For, as
Hudibras
says,
For those that meddle with his Tools,
Will cut their Fingers, if they're Fools.
.
But to Mademoiselle
Violante.
She, finding her Tumbling tiresome, fell into Playing and
Pantomime
(another Disgrace to the Drama). Mr.
Barrington,
Mr.
John Morris,
and, I think, Mr.
Beamsly,
Miss
Woffington,
Miss
Mackay
(now Mrs.
Mitchel),
and many others, came under her Directions, and play'd several Dramatic Pieces with Grotesque Entertainments, till stopt by the Lord Mayor of the City of
Dublin;
Mrs.
Violante
having no Sanction, or proper Authority, to exhibit such Entertainments. The
It is now an Hospital for indigent
Lying-in Women,
which is a generous, virtuous, and humane Charity, worthy the Imitation of every civilized Nation. The Director and Inventor of this useful Institution ought to be mentioned with great Respect. How many Subjects have been lost, for want of such a noble Charity! The Hospital was opened in
March
1745. and, by the First of
November
1747. there were 514 poor Women safely delivered of 281 Boys, and 241 Girls; 13 Women bearing Twins; the eminent Dr.
Mosse
(the first Promoter of this charitable Work) giving Attendance without Fee or Reward. I wish
Iberia
's Elder Sister would follow the Example. 'Tis true, there are such in
China,
but not under such Regulation; the Women there are not receiv'd, till the Pangs of Child-birth attack them, according to
Mendez Pinto;
and several Mothers, with their Infants, perish, before they can be conveyed to the Hospital. In
Paris
there is one of this Kind; but the Women after the Month, if able, are obliged to attend those that lie in, and cannot be free of the Place till their Turn comes on, which must be one Month, at least: For, as I am informed, they are Nurses to each other.
Rome,
that has Hospitals almost without Number, has none such, tho' they have one for repenting Courtezans. Altho' the Hospitals, in
Amsterdam,
maintain 20,000 Souls, of both Sexes; yet I cannot find one that is appropriated to this Use.
Place is put to another Use.
I shall take Leave of
Violante,
and her Postures, and give it, as my own Opinion, that I think such Diversions are below the Dignity of the Stage, or Humanity. Where can be the Satisfaction, when Death and Danger attend it? I have the Fate of Lady
Isabella
The Lady
Isabella
was born in
Italy,
sprung from a noble Family in the City of
Florence:
She was put into a Nunnery at twelve Years of Age, in order to take the Veil; but a Posture-master unluckily came to that City, gained her Affections, and found Means to carry her off, and marry'd her; instructed her in his unseemly, dangerous Employment (if we may call it so), and brought her to
England;
where Lady
Isabella
was greatly admir'd, for her Postures, and Feats of Activity. The last, and fatal, Time of her Performance, she was eight Months gone with Child; but the covetous Husband loved Money so well (as it is reported), that he would not allow her the necessary Repose required in her Condition; so that, in one of her Dances on a slack Rope, she fell on the Stage, where the Mother and Infant, newly born with the Force of the Fall, expired in a Moment, fatal Catastrophe! in the Twenty-first Year of her Age. This was the running Account of the poor Lady
Isabella,
after her Death, whose End was much lamented: For, notwithstanding her disreputable Employment, she was esteemed as a Woman of strict Virtue.
ever present to my Memory at the mentioning of such dangerous Entertainments. I should have told my Reader, that Mrs.
Violante
had let her
Booth
to Mr.
Luke Sparks,
Mr.
John Barrington,
Miss
Mackay
(now Mrs.
Mitchel),
for three Pounds
per
Week: The three mentioned Persons, being all very young, fell desperately in Love with the
Dramatic Poets,
and were resolved to marry them, with their Poetical Fortune, that is, without a Rag to cover their Nakedness, or rather nothing but Rags; for their Scenes had shewed their best Days. However, Cloaths were borrowed, some from Friends, and some to be paid for; and they began with a Comedy of
Farquhar
's, call'd
The Inconstant,
or,
The Way to win him;
the three chief Parts being performed by the three adventurous Undertakers;
viz.
Young Mirabel by Mr. Sparks
Duretete by Mr. Barrington
Bisarre by Miss Mackay.
Mr.
Sparks
(as having played before, in a Country Company) was the
Manager.
The Play was performed much better than was expected, and their Company soon became more numerous, being join'd by others that look'd more to
Profit
than
Pleasure;
for these three Lovers of the Drama could play Heroes and Heroines, without eating; Love for the Sublime was enough for them: However, other People did not relish this Cameleon Diet, and hunger'd after something more substantial; therefore resolved upon Benefits, and gave the first to Miss
Mackay,
in order to break the Ice. The
Fop's Fortune
was the Play, and she then being a young promising Actress, several Ladies, of the first Rank, espous'd her Cause, and brought upwards of Forty Pounds to her Benefit. They might well say, with the Herald in the
Rehearsal,
They had not seen so much the Lord knows when.
The Success of this Benefit alarmed the
Old Smock-alley House,
who applying to the
Lord Mayor,
he sent Orders to forbid their Acting; and it was with much Difficulty they had Leave to play one more, which was,
Woman's a Riddle,
to a good House,
And that the last.
This was the Spring from whence
Ransford-street
arose, out of the Power of the
Lord Mayor
of
Dublin.
Ransford-street Theatre
was built, and opened, for the first Time, under a Licence granted by the Right Honourable the Earl of
Meath
I saw a Licence, granted by that worthy Nobleman to the late Mr.
Thomas Walker,
Comedian, for Forty Pounds
per Annum;
which Sum was meant to be given to the Poor in the Earl of
Meath
's Liberty: A pious Example!
, being Part of his Liberties. The first Play that was performed there was, a Comedy call'd
LOVE for LOVE. (The Company being under the Directions of Mr.
Husband.
)
Sir Sampson by Mr. Moore
Since dead.
Valentine by Mr. Husband
Tattle by Mr. Ravenscroft
Since dead.
Foresight by Mr. Bourne
Now in
England.
Ben by Mr. Sparks
Trapland by Mr. Daniel
Jeremy by Mr. Roch
Angelica by Mrs. Ravenscroft
Dead.
Mrs. Foresight by Mrs. Smith
Dead.
Mrs. Frail by Miss Mackay
Now Mrs.
Mitchel.
Miss Prue by Miss Barnes
Now Mrs.
Martin.
Nurse by Mrs. Talent
Lives at
Corke.
I never saw this
Theatre,
but have been inform'd, it was a very neat, compact Building, capable of containing an hundred Pounds, at common Prices, which they never raised, but at Benefits.
The Company performed here above a Year with tolerable Success, sometimes Neap, and sometimes Spring-tides; but when
Henry
the Eighth, with the pompous Coronation, was exhibited at the Theatre in
Aungier-street,
they were almost forsaken; good Sense with Shew, for once prevailed, which is not always the Case.
As Poverty is the Mother of Invention, all the Wit of the Company went to work, and, at last, produced a
Mock
Coronation, with less Expence than a Lady's Tail at
Aungier-street Theatre.
It was called the
Beggars Coronation
(and not unworthy that Title), in the Play of
The Royal Merchant,
or
The Beggars Bush;
with the following
Prologue,
on the solemn Occasion, ushered in by this Preamble, in Print:
APROLOGUE
spoke at
Ransford-street
Playhouse, on the Revival of
The Royal Merchant,
or
The Beggars Bush;
which was acted with the
Mock Coronation,
on the playing King
Henry
the
VIII
th and Coronation in
Aungier-street
Playhouse.
WELL, by this Time, your Eyes have ach'd with gazing
On Coronations, Masks, and Sights no less amazing!
Here, then, you come, unwilling to be pleas'd,
Longer than just your dazzled Sight is eas'd.
The Sun, 'tis true, will dim the strongest Eye;
And Darkness, only, can new Force supply—
Yet you must own, that, had no Shew been there,
You'd been content to kill an Ev'ning here.
The
Coronation
made so great a Noise,
Had there been none,
Harry
had miss'd your Voice;
Buffoon—Jack-pudding—Jobson—Hob,
conspir'd,
In vain, to make the burlesque King admir'd.
He play'd it, tho', some say, with wond'rous Art!
His Belly—shook; and—that was all the Part.
Yet, faith, 'tis odd—But we surprise you more
Than
Harry
's Hoh! or
Wolsey
's envy'd Store.
Here honest
Clause
shall gain a Beggar's Crown,
Tho' Tyrants threaten, and proud Churchmen frown!
Each willing Subject his small Tribute brings,
Abhorring Slav'ry, yet adoring Kings.
Clause,
tho' a Beggar, 'midst his Rags is free;
Henry
's a Slave to Tyrants great as he.
How does their Splendor mock their wretched Fate!
They mourn in Pomp, and starve in pageant State.
Like petty Kings, who
Rome
's Subjection own;
To feed its Pride, they hunger on a Throne.
If any here, with indigested Rage,
Will speak malignly of our sporting Stage,
As if, in Ridicule of Rites so known,
Sacred to
Britain
's Fame, and
GEORGE
's Crown,
We thus our Mockery of State pursue,
Let others our Design with Candour view,
And own, if any Disrespect appears,
'Tis them we mock; be, then, the Censure theirs.
As the World is fond of Novelty (and this Mock Coronation appearing new), the Stream of Success flowed upon them with a rapid Torrent, swelled their Pockets till they overflow'd their Banks, and water'd the Fields of many a Publican! Debts were cleared, and every single Person might, fearless, look at the Dial on the
Tholsel.
Their Success went even beyond their Hopes, and
Aungier-street
suffered short Allowance (as they say at Sea), because the Current was turn'd another Way: Yet I find, by this Success, all do not think alike.
King Henry the Eighth,
with the Coronation, in the utmost Magnificence, was performed in the Year of his present Majesty's Accession to the Throne, at the Theatre Royal in
Drurylane, London:
The Success
there
was beyond the Bounds of Expectation; it was even added to every Play, as a
Pantomime,
&c. and exhibited, that one Season, 75 Times.
The Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn Fields
got up a
Mock Coronation,
as a Burlesque upon that in
Drury lane;
but the Audience took a different Turn to that in
Ransford-street;
for the poor Mock Peers and Magistrates were pelted off the Stage, in the utmost Contempt, and all their Study and Labour came to nothing.
However, this
Mock Coronation
fill'd
Ransford-street
Theatre, seventeen succeeding Nights: But as Mountain-rivers soon overflow, they as soon sink, and rest in their natural Bed again:
Ransford-street
was too far out of the Way; therefore the Company, after three Years Occupation, forsook it. However, I shall subjoin a Couple of poetical Pieces of Poetry, occasioned by the above
Prologue:
Wits are a Tribe like
Jews,
and one Production begets another. As every Line of Battle Ship has its own
Chaplain,
so every Theatre have their own
Poets;
and sometimes, like
Ragotin
in
Scarron,
they may be found in itinerant Troops. The opponent Theatre produced one, spoken by Mrs.
Bellamy
in Boy's Cloaths, at a Time when an epidemic Cold had reigned greatly in Town.
Dear Ladies, may I perish, but I'm proud
To find you all recover'd, and so loud.
Not one sore Throat amongst you now remains,
Of that vile Cold of which the Town complains:
And, faith, you'll answer for me, I'm sincere,
When I profess I'm glad to see you here!
I found a Female Habit would not do,
And therefore try'd a Pair of Breeches too:
A spruce young Blade, well made, with such Address,
Among you
Belles
may speak with some Success—
And I, who am a Woman—to my Cost,
Know, by myself, what please the Ladies most—
In vain we strive our Merit
here
to show,
For ev'ry Night to
Ransford-street
you go;
Where painted Scenes, and tinsell'd taudry Dress,
Are only splendid Signs of Emptiness.
But this is Scandal; for all
Dublin
knows,
That Playhouse deals not over-much in Cloaths.
Two Venders of the same Commodity will be a little too apt to depreciate each other's Goods; therefore the Poet drew his Pen in their Defence, and furnished forth the following
Prologue,
spoke by Miss
Mackay,
in the Character of
Lady Townley,
in the
Provok'd Husband.
As some poor 'Squire, to Country Quarters sent,
His Credit gone, and all his Money spent;
A Swarm of Duns, each Morn, attend his Door,
Crying out,
Money! Faith we're very poor.
Why ay!
the 'Squire replies;
but pray have Patience,
Six Months Arrears comes with my next Acquittance.
Just so I've told my Duns, this many a Day,
They'd all have Money when I got my Play
This Play was for Miss
Mackay
's Benefit.
.
The other House, we thank their honest Care,
Have, to their Cost, engag'd the good
Lord Mayor
To send us, as they thought—the Lord knows where!
Yet we'll forgive them, if they keep their Word;
But that is more than they can yet afford.
'Tis true, alas! we're scant in Cloaths, while they
Abound in more—than they can ever pay—
Our House is new—Thanks to our Benefactors
Old Smock-alley
was then in a ruinous Condition.
!
Nor do we envy those enslav'd Detractors:
They may get one, but Lord knows where get Actors
Aungier-strect
was afterwards built for the Company in
Smock-alley.
.
We may see, this last Bard did not take the least Advantage of his Antagonist: Their Lines were exactly even, and eighteen Thrusts given on each Side, and therefore neither could claim the Conquest; tho', like Battles in
Flanders,
each Side claimed the Victory, and each General put on the Wreath of Conqueror.
The Theatre in
Aungier-street
was built by the voluntary Subscription of many of the illustrious Nobility and Gentry of the Kingdom: The first Stone was laid by the Duke of
Dorset,
then Lord Lieutenant; but, I think, the Architect had more View to the Magnificent, than Theatrical. The Audience Part is ornamented with rich Embellishment, that gives it a superb Countenance; but, no Disparagement to the Architect in other Buildings, this might have been more convenient, with less Cost. But I believe the Contriver had an Eye more to
Ridottos,
than the
Drama:
If so, indeed, his Intentions were answered; for, in that Shape, it may vie with that in the
Hay-market
in
London.
Thrusting my own Opinion, in this Manner, might have the Air of Presumption, if my Employment and Observation had not taken up full thirty Years of my Time: In other Buildings I would not pretend to give my Judgment on a Pigeon-house, or a Centrybox, or give Directions in erecting a thatched Cabin, or a Turnpike.
Aungier-street
Theatre opened
March
the 9th, 1733-4. with the Comedy of
The Recruiting Officer;
the Parts acted as follows:
Captain Plume by Mr. J. Elrington
Justice Balance by Mr. Layfield
Captain Brazen by Mr. R. Elrington
Worthy by Mr. Watson
Kite by Mr. Vanderbank
Bullock by Mr. F. Elrington
Since dead.
1st Recruit by Mr. Reed
Now in his Majesty's Navy.
2d Recruit by Mr. Butler
Died in
England.
Silvia by Mrs. Bellamy
Melinda by Mrs. Wrightson
Lucy by Mrs. Reynolds
Rose by Mrs. Moreau
These were the main Body of the Theatrical Army in its first March, tho' several Auxiliaries join'd them afterwards.
The Theatre in
Smock-alley
The proper Name is
Orange-street;
but it took the Appellation of
Smock-alley
from Mother
Bungy,
of infamous Memory, and was, in her Days, a Sink of Sin; but a Man being found murder'd in these bottomless Pits of Wickedness, the Sheds were pulled down by the Populace, the unclean Vermin were banish'd, the Place purged of its Infamy; handsome Dwellings now shew their Faces in a modest Garb, and entertain modest and reputable Inhabitants; and therefore, I think, ought to lose its old stain'd Name. But if
Tyburn
were removed, the Spot would be call'd
Tyburn
still.
was built by a voluntary Subscription. The Architect has considered the Building more for the real Intention of the Proprietors, I mean for Profit: The
Cavea,
or that Part where the Audience sit, is much more convenient than that of
Aungier-street,
and will contain a fifth Part more in Number than the latter, altho' it does not appear so to the Eye: On the contrary, the Stage is more cramp'd for want of Room, which might have been otherwise at the first building.
When I came first from
England,
in the Year 1741. I brought over an experienc'd
Machinist,
who alter'd the Stage after the Manner of the Theatres in
France
and
England,
and formed a Machine to move the Scenes regularly all together; but it is since laid aside, as well as the Flies above, which were made as convenient as the Theatre would admit: However, the present Manager has form'd it as regular and convenient as the Spot would allow of, decorated it with all the Elegance of the
Theatres
Abroad, with proper Scenery and Habits, that her elder Sisters in
England
need not blush at the Figure she makes.
This new Theatre opened with a Comedy call'd
Love makes a Man; or, The Fop's Fortune:
The Parts played as follows;
Don Antonio by Mr. Dash
Don Charino by Mr. Bourne
Carlos by Mr. Ward
Don Lewis by Mr. Wetherilt
Don Duart by Mr. Cashel
Clody by Mr. Sparks
Governor by Mr. Redman
Sancho by Mr. Barrington
Elvira by Miss Boucher
Lovisa by Mrs. Ward
Angelina by Miss Barnes
Now
Martin.
But so eager were they to open (or to get Money), that they began to play before the Back-part of the House was til'd in; which the Town knowing, they had not Half an Audience the first Night, but mended leisurely by Degrees; where we shall leave them on the mending Hand, and walk to
CAPEL-STREET.
This Theatre was built, like an aggrieved People in the State of Rebellion, their Forces raised in a Hurry, neither well cloath'd, arm'd, or paid; their Fortifications so slightly thrown up, did not promise a long Defence, though they had a Veteran at their Head, that might have taught them Discipline, had he taken proper Pains with his raw Soldiers; or rather, indeed, had they been more capable of being taught: But this hasty Building was erected in the great Cause of Liberty!
The Love of Liberty with Life is giv'n,
And Life itself's th' inferior Gift of Heav'n.
This Company open'd under the Sanction of the Lord Mayor of
Dublin,
and call'd themselves the
City Company of Comedians.
Their first Play was
Shakespear
's
Merchant of Venice.
Duke by Mr. Rivers
Morochius by Mr. Brouden
Antonio by Mr. Townsend
Bassanio by Mr. Marshal
Gratiano by Mr. Hall
Lorenzo by Mr. Corry
Shylock by Mr. Wright
Tubal by Mr. Bourne
Launcelot by Mr. Morgan
Portia by Mrs. Brouden
Nerissa by Mrs. Phillips
Jessica by Miss Lewis
I shall leave the further Mention of this Theatre to the Memoirs of the worthy Projector of it,
Harlequin Phillips,
and end with its Neighbour,
PUNCH's THEATRE.
O happy Manager! whose Servants never disoblige, or contradict his Will! No clamouring for Parts, or Pay! No Envy reigns among them! No Sycophants to corrupt his Ears with Falshoods, or cringing Flatterers to tickle his Vices, or swell his Pride and Vanity! But all obey him without Self-interest, or ever trouble themselves whether they are naked, or cloath'd; or ever repine at the Success of each other's Performance, or, like the
Spaniards
A
Spanish
Bishop writes thus of the Conquest of
America:
The first Conquerors of this large new World gave out, that there were mighty Giants and warlike
Amazons,
all of them a Race of Cannibals that fed upon human Flesh, making War on each other for that Purpose: But these Reports were spread to cover the Inhumanity of the
Spaniards,
who put to Death, with extreme Tortures, above Six Millions of innocent, naked, harmless
Indians;
pretending it was in the Service of Heaven to rob, starve, and murder the Image of their Creator; when it has been proved, their own Avarice was the Motive, when Millions were put to Death a thousand Ways, because they could not, or would not, discover their hidden Wealth.
Thus it too often falls out among ourselves; when a poor Wretch is half-laden with Injuries, they make up the other Half-burden with Falshoods, and very humanly throw on a Weight that intirely sinks him.
, lay Faults on the
Indians,
to cover their own Cruelty. Mr.
Punch
's Theatre has been built and occupy'd by these decent and well-behav'd Performers several Years. It goes by the Name of the first Founder, STRETCH, as the Coffee-houses in
London
still go by the Names of
Tom
's,
White
's, and
Will
's; tho' the Names of their present Masters may be
Jack, Sam,
or
Ned:
However, it intimates, that the first were eminent in their Stations; and it expresses Modesty in the Survivors, in owning it, by continuing
their
Names, rather than their
own.
Thus has this opulent City of
Dublin
every innocent Diversion, that may unbend the Mind, equal to any City of
Europe,
leaving the
Italian
Opera out, which can neither produce Mirth or Sorrow, Pity or Compassion. Yet here is Music, in Perfection, converted to a better Use than in
Britain,
which produces a double Pleasure—the Charms of
Harmony,
and the Means to relieve the
Poor.
I have been in most Parts of the World in my Youth, and in every Place of Note I have touch'd at (as the Sailors term it) have found the Natives of this Kingdom in Places of Trust and Power, venerated and esteemed by all. I shall therefore conclude with two Lines of that celebrated
French
Author Monsieur
Voltaire
I have mentioned this Author, in another Part of the Work, as an
Exile;
but have learn'd since, that his Banishment is repealed, and he is made
Historiographer
to the
French
King.
.
Peuple malheureux, doux, genereux, et vaillant,
En tous lieux exiles, mais par tout triomphant.
"Ill-fated Race! brave, generous, and true;
"Tho' Exiles in each Clime; thro' all, subdue."
MEMOIRS of the principal Performers on the STAGE.
JOSEPH ASHBURY,
Esq
THIS worthy Gentleman was born in
London,
the Year 1638. of an antient Family. His Father married a near Relation of that great
Scholar
and
Soldier,
Sir
Walter Raleigh,
who was first Gentleman to that Duke of
Buckingham,
that was kill'd by Lieutenant
Felton
in the Reign of King
Charles
the First. The Gentleman I am about to give an Account of, was sent very young to
The School of
Eton
was founded by that unfortunate King
Henry
the Sixth, eminent to a Degree for producing Men of great Learning. 'Tis seated on the delightful River of
Thomas
in
Buckinghamshire,
over-against
Windsor
in
Berkshire;
it is called
Eton-College.
The Chapel is a handsome
Gothic
Pile, with an Organ and Choir. This Place is ranked as the first Free-School in the King's Dominions. It seems by
Art
and
Nature
form'd for Study; its shady Walks public or private, large Gardens, Orchards, Groves, and the limpid River, are natural Calls for Learning.
Eton-School,
near
Windsor,
where he received a genteel Education, being very well instructed in classical Learning. After the Death of his Father, his Friends procur'd him a Pair of Colours in the Army under the Duke of
Ormond,
which was the first Time of his coming into this Kingdom, in the last Year of
Oliver Cromwell
's Administration.
Mr.
Ashbury
was one of the Number of Officers that seiz'd the Castle of
Dublin,
when Governor
Jones
was made Prisoner, and secur'd in Behalf of King
Charles
II. He was made Lieutenant of Foot of a Company granted by that Monarch to the City of
Dublin,
in the Year 1660. and 1662. the Duke of
Ormond,
the then Lord Lieutenant, made him one of the Gentlemen of his Retinue, and Deputy-Master of the
Revels
under
John Ogilby,
Esq
some time after.
In the Year 1682. at the Death of the Master of the Revels, through Mr.
Ashbury
's Interest with the Duke of
Ormond,
he was made Patentee, and Master of the Revels in this Kingdom. His first Wife was Sister to an eminent Actor of that Time (Mr.
Richards),
by whom he had two Children, who died in their Infancy; and the Mother of them, being a very infirm Woman, was not long after the Death of her second Child before she left the World.
Mr.
Ashbury
continued a Widower many Years, till, fixing his Eyes upon Miss
Darling,
a blooming young Gentlewoman, Daughter to the Reverend Mr.
Darling,
Dean of
Emly,
by this Lady he had two Sons, the eldest Mr.
Boyle Ashbury,
Lieutenant in Brigadier
Bor
's Regiment, and unfortunately killed in a Duel at
Sligoe
(where he was then on Duty)
June
the 9th, 1725. The last of the Male Race (Mr.
Richard Ashbury)
is Deputy
Athlone
Pursuivant, and an eminent Undertaker in
Capel-street
The first Part of this Account I gathered from Mr.
Joseph Ashbury
s own Mouth when I was a young Man under his Directions in this Kingdom, about four Years before his Death, when he liv'd at the
Bowling-Green-House, Oxmantown,
since built upon; then, I believe, the finest Spot of its Kind in the whole Universe.
. His only Daughter was married to Mr.
Thomas Elrington.
Mr.
Ashbury
was not only the principal
Actor
in his Time, but the best
Teacher
of the Rudiments of that Science in the three Kingdoms. I speak not from my own Judgment, but that of many others, as Mr.
Wilks,
Mr.
Booth,
Mr.
Keene,
&c. To prove this, give me leave to insert a Letter from Mr.
Wilks
to Mr.
Ashbury
concerning Mr.
William Wilks
his Nephew
I was favoured with this Letter by Mr.
Richard Ashbury
the Son.
.
To
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
Master of the Revels,
Dublin.
I Have no Pretence to ask a Favour of Mr.
Ashbury,
but that he has a thousand times oblig'd me. I take the Liberty, therefore, to recommend the Bearer, my Nephew
Mr.
William Wilks,
the Nephew mentioned in this Letter, came over here, and play'd several Parts in the Old
Smock-alley
Theatre; and, tho' young and genteel, he was only the Shadow of his Uncle, and his Name befriended him more than his Abilities. He return'd to
England,
after a Year's Probation here, and was entered one of the Company in
Drury-lane,
at thirty Shillings a Week, and died before he had reached his 30th Year, or a higher Salary. He was a good Scholar, and had a tolerable Knack of
Rhyming to his
PHYLLIS.
, to you for your Countenance and Favour: He was bred an Attorney, but is unhappily fallen in Love with that fickle Mistress the Stage, and no Arguments can dissuade him from it. I have refus'd to give him any Countenance, in Hopes that Time and Experience might cure him: But since I find him determined to make an Attempt somewhere, no one, I am sure, is able to give him so just a Notion of the Business as Mr.
Ashbury;
and indeed I am proud to own, that all the Success I have met with, both with you, and in
England,
on the Stage, has been intirely owing to the early Impressions I received from
You.
If you find that my Nephew wants either Genius, or any other necessary Qualification, I beg, dear Sir, that you will freely tell him his Disabilities; and then it is possible, he may more easily be persuaded to return to his Friends and Business, which I am inform'd he understands perfectly well.
Before I had the Favour of yours, honest
Jo Trefusis
Mr.
Joseph Trefusis
was the original
Trapland
in
Love for Love,
and a well-esteem'd low Comedian (a Theatrical Term to distinguish that Branch from the Genteel); and was famous for Dancing an aukward Country Clown. He was an experienced
Angler.
As he was fishing by the
Liffy
Side, some Friends of his were going in a Boat in order to embark for
England. Jo,
seeing them, called to them to take him in, that he might see them safe on board. He gave his Fishing-Rod to a Friend on Shore, to take care of till his Return; but
Jo,
it seems, was prevailed upon by his Companions to make the Journey to
London
with them, with his Fishing-cloaths upon his Back, not a second Shirt, and but seven Shillings in his Pocket. His Companions left him at
London,
and Mr.
Wilks
found him gazing at the Dial in the Square of
Covent-Garden.
He hardly knew him at first (as Mr.
Wilks
told me) but by his particular Gait, which was beyond Imitation When he asked him how he came there, and in that Pickle;
Hum! ha! why faith,
Bobby, reply'd
Jo, I only came from
Dublin
to see what it was o'Clock at
Covent Garden. However, Mr.
Wilks
new-cloath'd him, supply'd him with Money, and sent him back, as mentioned in the above Letter, before he receiv'd Mr.
Ashbury
's Letter to supply him.
, I believe, was near his Journey's End; and I had taken care to furnish him with what was necessary, for which I neither expect or desire any Return; 'tis sufficient that you esteem it a Kindness, and I wish it were in my Power to lay a more lasting Obligation upon Mr.
Ashbury,
or any of his Family. My most humble Service to the dearest Part of you—In plain Terms—your Wife—to Mr.
Elrington
and his
Fanny
—and pray believe, that I shall be ready on all Occasions, to shew how much I am, dear Sir, your oblig'd and faithful humble Servant,
ROBERT WILKS.
London
Dec. 6, 1714.
When the Earl of
Wharton
was Lord Lieutenant, some needy Courtier try'd all his Interest to be made Master of the Revels; insomuch that Mr.
Ashbury
was greatly alarm'd at it, which was said to proceed from a Report of his Death. Therefore, in the 74th Year of his Age he embark'd for
England
to solicit the Queen.
He arrived at
Chester,
from whence he sent the following Letter to his Wife concerning the Affair.
I received this from the same Hand with the other.
Chester,
October
13. 1713.
My Dear,
THIS is only to let you know that I am safely arrived at
Chester,
where I had the good Fortune to meet with Sir
John Stanley,
who was well pleased to see me. After I had told him the Cause of my Journey relating to my Patent, he bid me be assured, he would render me all the good Offices in his Power, and was of the Opinion it lay in the Will of the Duke of
Shrewsbury
our good Lord Lieutenant, without giving our gracious Queen the least Trouble concerning it. This Morning I had the Honour of a Visit from Mr.
Kightly
and Sir
Richard Levinze,
who are of the same Opinlon with Sir
John,
and have both promised me their utmost Assistance. Good Mr.
Kightly
tells me, he will put her Majesty
in mind of her old Master
Mr.
Ashbury
taught the Queen, when she was Princess
Anne,
the Part of
Semandra
in
Mithridates
King of
Pontus,
which was acted at Court by Persons of the first Rank in the Banqueting-House,
Whitehall,
where Mr.
Ashbury
was Prompter, and conducted the Whole.
, as he was pleased to call me. I am so well satisfy'd in the Affair, that I would return to thee on the first Opportunity, if I had not resolved to see my Sister, and my Son
Tom Elrington
's Father and Mother. Thou knowest it is troublesome to me to write; but to satisfy thee in thy longing Desire to hear from me, I take the Trouble with Pleasure. I remain thine for ever,
JOSEPH ASHBURY,
My Blessing to all my dear Children.
Mr.
Ashbury
suceeded Mr.
Darling
as Steward of the
King's-Inns,
a Post of good Profit. I had not the Pleasure of knowing this great Man but till the latter Part of his Life; yet, notwithstanding his great Age, I have seen him perform several Parts with the utmost Satisfaction; and tho' at his Years it could not be expected the Fire of Youth and Vigour should blaze out, yet Truth and Nature might be seen in a just Light. His Person was of an advantageous Height well-proportioned and manly; and, notwithstanding his great Age, erect; a Countenance that demanded a reverential Awe, a full and meaning Eye, piercing, tho' not in its full Lustre; and yet I have seen him read Letters, and printed Books, without any Assistance from Art; a sweet-sounding manly Voice, without any Symptoms of his Age in his Speech. I have seen him acquit himself in the Part of
Careless
in the
Committee
so well, that his Years never struck upon Remembrance. And his Person, Figure, and Manner in
Don Quixote
were inimitable. The Use of a short Cloak in former Fashions on the Stage seem'd habitual to him, and in Comedy he seemed to wear it in Imagination, which often produced Action, tho' not ungraceful, particular and odd to many of the Audience; yet in Tragedy those Actions were left off, and every Motion manly, great, and proper.
Mrs.
Ashbury,
even in her noon-tide Sun, had an amiable Person, a sweet, innocent, modest, winning Countenance; and, having so great a Master in the Art, was ever just in Speech and Action, without climbing to the Summit of Perfection; yet I have seen her perform one Part that seem'd a finish'd Original, where all since have appeared to me but excellent Copies (if I may use the Term), that is, Mrs.
Pinchwife
in
Wycherly
's Comedy of the
Country Wife.
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
died
July
24. 1720. in the 82d Year of his Age, retaining his Judgment to the last Moment of his Life. Mrs.
Ashbury
surviv'd him a few Years, bewailing his Loss till she follow'd him to the Grave. This great Man was Master of the Revels to Five Monarchs of
England,
viz. K.
Charles
II. K.
James
II. K.
William,
Q.
Anne,
and K.
George
the First. I shall lead him to his Grave, with the following Poem on his lamented Death.
As distant Thunder in a rolling Cloud,
First murmurs inwardly, then roars aloud;
Till the dread Clap frights ev'ry mortal Ear,
And strikes them with a just and panic Fear:
Such was the sad distracted News which bore
The Tidings to us—
Ashbury
's no more!
The Muses speechless to his Shrine repair,
Ev'n Art, and Wit, stand silent Mourners there;
Yet bolder Zeal will Bands of Duty break,
And Gratitude has Liberty to speak:
True Passion too can Inspiration bring:
'Twas Grief first taught the Nightingale to sing—
From his, as from some Hero's awful Tomb,
Ev'n my dead Muse shall vital Warmth resume.
When first in Learning
's
Orb his Lustreblaz'd,
The World look'd up, transported and amaz'd!
His Words, as if inspir'd, Impression made;
Ulysses'
Skill, without his Craft, display'd:
His Counsels ne'er were varnish'd o'er with Art,
With Policy he still did Truth impart,
Spoke Oracles, but always spoke his Heart.
By Judgment's Compass ev'ry Course he steer'd,
And watch'd the Signals ere the Storm appear'd.
His Prudence o'er the Surges did prevail,
With Ballast still proportion'd to his Sail—
Precipitately ne'er assum'd a Trust,
To promise, slow; but in Performance just:
By Grace instructed, and by Nature mild;
Nor relish'd Life, but when he reconcil'd.
His Life and Aspect did just Patterns give,
What Figures we should make, and how to live.
Mr. ANTONY ASTON, commonly called TONY.
THIS Person was bred an Attorney in
England;
but, having a Smattering of Wit and Humour, he left the Study of the Law for Parts on the Stage. He strain'd sorth a Comedy which was acted on the Theatre in
Smock-alley,
call'd
Love in a Hurry,
but with no Success. He play'd in all the Theatres in
London,
but never continued long in any; his Way of living was peculiar to himself and Family, resorting to the principal Cities and Towns in
England
with his
Medley,
as he call'd it, which consisted of some capital Scenes o Humour out of the most celebrated Plays. His Company were generally compos'd of his own Family, himself, his Wife and Son; between every Scene, a Song or Dialogue of his own Composition, fill'd up the Chinks of the slender Meal. He pretended a Right to every Town he entered; and if a Company came to any Place where he exhibited his Compositions, he would use all his Art to evacuate the Place of these Interlopers, as he called them. He was never out of his Way; or if he met with a sightly House when he was Itinerant, he would soon find the Name, Title, and Circumstances of the Family, curry them over with his humorous Verse, and by that means get something to bear his Charges to his next Station. His
Finances,
like those of Kingdoms, were sometimes at the Tide of
Flood,
and as often at low
Ebb.
In one, where his Stream had left the Chanel dry, yet ready to launch out on a trading Voyage without a Cargo, or Provision, he called up his Landlord, to whom there was something due, told him of his Losses in his present Voyage, and being sent for to another Place, desired he would lend him a small Sum upon his
Wardrobe
(which he shew'd him in a large Box) ten times the Value of the Debt owing, or the Sum borrow'd. The honest Landlord, seeing a proper Security, easily comply'd, gave him the Sum demanded, lock'd up the Trunk, put the Key in his Pocket, and retired. But as no Vessel can make a Voyage without Sails, and other proper Materials, he had contriv'd a false Bottom to this great Box, took out the Stuffing, and by Degrees, sent off his Wardrobe by his Emissaries, unperceiv'd. And that the Weight should not detect him, he filled up the Void with Cabbage-stalks, Bricks and Stones cloath'd in Rags to prevent moving, when the Vehicle was to be taken the next Morning into the Landlord's Custody. Every thing succeeded to his Wish, and away went
Tony,
but far wide of the Place he mentioned to mine Host. A Week was the stated Time of Redemption, which the Landlord saw elapse with infinite Satisfaction (for he had a Bill of Sale of the Contents in the Trunk); he open'd it with great Pleasure; but when he saw the fine Lining! he was motionless, like a Statue carv'd by a bungling Hand. He had recourse to Revenge. A Bailiff with proper Directions was sent to the Place mentioned; but if he had discover'd the least Wit in his Anger, he might have thought
Tony
knew better than to tell him Truth. I only mention this little Story, to let the Reader know the Shifts the
Itinerant
Gentry are sometimes put to. For
Tony,
when his
Finances
were in Order, and cur'd of the Consumption, honestly paid him. I have had this Tale both from
Tony
and the Landlord, who then kept the
Black-Boy
Inn at
Chelmsford
in
Essex.
If
Tony
by chance ever came to a Town where a Company of
Showmen
(as People oft call them) had got in before him, he presently declar'd War with them; and his general Conditions of Peace were, that they should act a Play for his Benefit, that he might leave the Siege, and march with his small Troop to some other Place. And as he was a Person of Humour, and a proper Assurance, he generally, like a Cat, skimm'd off the fat Cream, and left the lean Milk to those that stay'd behind. I believe he is Travelling still, and is as well known in every Town, as the Post-Horse that carries the Mail. He shall make his
Exit
with the two following Lines.
If various Dealers the same Goods exhibit,
They wish each other dangling on a Gibbet.
BARTON BOOTH,
Esq
THIS excellent Tragedian was Son to
John Booth,
Esq
of the County Palatine of
Lancaster,
a Branch of the
Warrington
Family. He was born in the Year 1681. in that County; but soon after his Birth his Father and Family removed to
Westminster,
and, at that celebrated School, the Son received his Education, under the Correction (as he call'd it) of the great Dr.
Busby
and Dr.
Knipe.
He inform'd me, the first Look he cast towards the Theatre, was from the Applause he received in performing in the
Andria
of
Terence
in
Latin
at
Westminster-School,
which perverted his Thoughts from the Pulpit, for which his Father intended him. At Seventeen he was chose out for the University, and had Orders to prepare for his Journey; but his Inclinations prevented the Designs of his Friends.
He first apply'd to Mr.
Betterton,
then to Mr.
Smith,
Two celebrated Actors; but they decently refus'd him for Fear of the Resentment of his Family: But this did not prevent his pursuing the Point in View; therefore he resolv'd for
Ireland,
and safely arrived in
June
1698. His first Rudiments Mr.
Ashbury
taught him, and his first Appearance was in the Part of
Oroonoko,
where he acquitted himself so well to a crouded Audience, that Mr.
Ashbury
rewarded him with a Present of Five Guineas, which was the more acceptable as his last Shilling was reduced to Brass (as he inform'd me). But an odd Accident fell out upon this Occasion. It being very warm Weather, in his last Scene of the Play, as he waited to go on, he inadvertently wiped his Face, that, when he enter'd, he had the Appearance of a Chimney-Sweeper (his own Words). At his Entrance, he was surpris'd at the Variety of Noises he heard in the Audience (for he knew not what he had done), that a little confounded him, till he received an extraordinary Clap of Applause, which settled his Mind. The Play was desir'd for the next Night of Acting, when an Actress fitted a Crape to his Face, with an Opening proper for the Mouth, and shap'd in Form for the Nose; but, in the first Scene, one Part of the Crape slip'd off:
And Zounds
! said he (he was a little apt to swear),
I look'd like a Magpie! When I came off, they Lamp-black'd me for the rest of the Night
The Composition for blackening the Face are Ivoryblack and Pomatum, which is, with some Pains, clean'd with fresh Butter.
,
that I was flayed before it could be got off again.
He remained here near Two Years, and, in that Time, by Letters, reconciled himself to his Friends in
England,
and return'd with great Theatrical Improvement, where he gradually stept to Perfection. In 1704. he marry'd the Daughter of Sir
Wm. Barkham,
Bart. an antient Family in the County of
Norfolk,
who died without Issue in the Year 1711.
Pyrrhus
in the
Distrest Mother
plac'd him in the Seat of
Tragedy,
and
Cato
fix'd him there; and, to reward his Merit, he was join'd in the Patent, tho' great Interest was made against him by the other
Patentees;
who, to prevent his soliciting his Patrons at Court, then at
Windsor,
gave out Plays every Night, where Mr.
Booth
had a principal Part. Notwithstanding this Step, he had a Chariot and Six of a Nobleman's waiting for him at the End of every Play, that whipt him the Twenty Miles in three Hours, and brought him back to the Business of the Theatre the next Night. He told me, not one Nobleman in the Kingdom had so many Sets of Horses at Command as he had at that Time, having no less than Eight; the first Set carrying him to
Hounslow
from
London,
Ten Miles; and the next Set ready waiting with another Chariot to carry him to
Windsor.
He had a vast Fund of Understanding as well as Good-nature, and a persuasive Elocution even in common Discourse, that would even compel you to believe him against your Judgment of Things. Notwithstanding his Exuberance of Fancy, he was untainted in his Morals. In his younger Years he admir'd none of the Heathen Deities so much as
Jolly Bacchus;
to him he was very devout; yet, if he drank ever so deep, it never marr'd his Study, or his Stomach. But, immediately after his Marriage with Miss
Santlow,
whose wise Conduct, Beauty, and winning Behaviour, so wrought upon him, that Home, and her Company, were his chief Happiness, he intirely contemn'd the Folly of Drinking out of Season, and from one Extreme fell, I think, into the other too suddenly; for his Appetite for Food had no Abatement. I have often known Mrs.
Booth,
out of extreme Tenderness to him, order the Table to be remov'd, for fear of overcharging his Stomach.
His profound Learning was extraordinary, since he left School at Seventeen, took to the Stage at Eighteen, and, by his own Confession, that the Business of the Stage, joined with his Devotion to
Bacchus,
had taken up most of his Time since, yet I have seen him take a Classic, and render it in such elegant
English,
that no Translator would hardly excel. I will set down his Character from a Paper call'd the
Prompter,
by
Aaron Hill,
Esq
whose Writings will be a living Monument of his own Merit.
Mr.
Booth
was a Man of a strong, clear, and lively Imagination. His Conversation was lively and instructive: He had the Advantage of a finish'd Education to improve and illustrate the bountiful Gifts of Nature. Two Advantages distinguished him in the strongest Light, from the rest of the Fraternity. He had Learning to understand perfectly whatever it was his Part to speak, and Judgment to know how far it agreed or disagreed with his Character. Hence arose a peculiar Grace, which was visible to every Spectator, tho' few were at the Pains of examining into the Cause of their Pleasure. He could soften, or slide over, with a kind of elegant Negligence, the Improprieties in a Part he acted; while, on the contrary, he would dwell with Energy upon the Beauties, as if he exerted a latent Spirit, which had been kept back for such an Occasion, that he might alarm, waken, and transport, in those Places only, where the Dignity of his own good Sense could be supported with that of his Author. A little Reflection upon this remarkable Quality, will teach us to account for that manifest Languor which has sometimes been observed in his Action; and which was generally, tho', I think, falsly, imputed to the Indolence of his Temper. For the same Reason, tho' in the customary Round of his Business he would condescend to some Parts in Comedy, he seldom appear'd in any of them with much Advantage to his Character. The Passions which he found in Comedy, were not strong enough to excite his Fire; and what seem'd Want of Qualification, was only Absence of Impression. He had a Talent of discovering the Passions where they lay hid in some celebrated Parts by the injudicious Practice of other Actors; when he had discover'd, he soon grew able to express them: And his Secret for attaining this great Lesson of the Theatre, was an Adaption of his Looks to his Voice, by which artful Imitation of Nature, the Variations in the Sound of his Words gave Propriety to every Change in his Countenance: So that it was
Booth
's Excellence to be heard and seen the same, whether as the pleas'd, the griev'd, the pitying, the reproachful, or the angry. His Gesture, or, as it is commonly call'd, his Action, was but the Result and necessary Consequence of his Dominion over his Voice and Countenance; for having, by a Concurrence of Two such Causes, impressed his Imagination with such a Stamp and Spirit of Passion, his Nerves obey'd the Impulse by a kind of natural Dependency, or relaxed or braced successively into all that fine Expressiveness with which he painted what he spoke without Restraint, or Affectation.
As a Proof of Mr.
Booth
's Learning, I am desired to insert the
Latin
Inscription wrote by him on the Death of Mr.
Smith
This Gentleman, Mr.
Smith,
was zealously attach'd to the Interest of King
James
the Second, and served in his Army as a Volunteer, with Two Servants. After the Abdication, Mr.
Smith
return'd to the Theatre, by the Persuasion of many Friends, and the Desire of the Town, who admired his Performance. The first Character he chose to appear in was that of
Wilmore
in the
Rover,
his original Part in that Comedy; but, being informed that he should be maltreated on account of his Principles, he gave Orders for the Curtain to drop, if any Disturbance should come from the Audience. Accordingly the Play began in the utmost Tranquillity; but when Mr.
Smith
entered in the First Act, the Storm began with the usual Noise upon such Occasions (an Uproar not unknown to all Frequenters of Theatres, and by Time mightily improved by a particular Set that delight in that agreeable Harmony, as pleasing to the Ear, as a Sow-gelder's Horn, that sets all the Village Curs to imitate the Sound); Mr.
Smith
gave the Signal, the Curtain dropp'd, and the Audience dismiss'd. No Persuasions could prevail upon him to appear on the Stage again, till that great Poet, Mr.
Congreve,
had wrote his Comedy of
Love for Love,
which was in the Year 1695. more than three Years void from the above Accident. This celebrated Author prevailed upon several Persons of the First Rank to move Mr.
Smith
to appear in the Character of
Scandal
in that excellent Comedy: But he yielded more to the Persuasions of his sincere Friends, Mr.
Betterton
and Mrs.
Barry,
and accepted the Part; and his inimitable Performance added one Grace to the Play. He took his Station in many Plays afterwards, for, I think, three Years. He died of a Cold, occasino'd by a violent Fit of the Cramp; for when he was first seiz'd, he threw himself out of Bed, and remained so long before the Cramp left him (in that naked Condition), that a Cold fell upon his Lungs, a Fever ensu'd, and Death releas'd him in three Days after.
the
Actor,
with a short Account of him, as I receiv'd it from Mr.
Benjamin Husband.
Scenicus eximius,
Regnante
Carolo Secundo:
Bettertono
Coaetaneus & Amicus,
Nec non propemodum Aequalis:
Haud ignobile stirpe oriundus,
Nec Literarum rudis Humaniorum,
Rem Scenicam
Per multos feliciter Annos administravit,
Justoque moderamine, & morum suavitate,
Omnium intra Theatrum
Observantiam, extra Theatrum laudem,
Ubique benevolentiam & amorem, sibi conciliavit.
In English,
An excellent Actor
Flourished in the Reign of
Charles the Second:
Betterton
's Cotemporary and Friend,
And very near him in Merit:
Sprung from a genteel Family,
And no Stranger to Literature.
In the Management of the Theatre
Heacquitted himself many Years, with deserved Success;
And, by a just Deportment, and Sweetness of Temper,
Gained the Respect of all within the Theatre,
The Applause of those without;
And every-where claimed the Friendship
And Affection of Mankind.
I shall give a Couple of Songs as a Specimen of his Taste in
English
Poetry, among many that do not occur to my Memory. The Source of them both sprung from his growing Passion for the amiable Miss
Santlow,
before their Marriage.
The First SONG.
CAN then a Look create a Thought
Which Time can ne'er remove?
Yes, foolish Heart, again thou'rt caught,
Again thou bleed'st for Love.
She sees the Conquest of her Eyes,
Nor heals the Wounds she gave;
She smiles whene'er my Blushes rise,
And, sighing, shuns her Slave.
Then, Swain, be bold! and still adore her,
Still the flying Fair pursue:
Love, and Friendship, still implore her,
Pleading Night and Day for you.
The Second SONG.
I.
SWEET are the Charms of her I love,
More fragrant than the Damask Rose;
Soft as the Down of Turtle-Dove,
Gentle as Winds when Zephyr blows;
Refreshing as descending Rains,
On Sun-burnt Climes, and thirsty Plains.
II.
True as the Needle to the Pole,
Or as the Dial to the Sun;
Constant as gliding Waters roll,
Whose swelling Tides obey the Moon:
From ev'ry other Charmer free,
My Life, and Love, shall follow thee.
III.
The Lamb the flow'ry Thyme devours,
The Dam the tender Kid pursues;
Sweet
Philomel,
in shady Bow'rs,
With verdant Spring her Notes renews:
All follow what they most admire,
As I pursue my Soul's Desire.
IV.
Nature must change her beauteous Face,
And vary as the Seasons rise;
As Winter to the Spring gives Place,
Summer th' Approach of Autumn flies:
No Change on Love the Seasons bring,
Love only knows perpetual Spring.
V.
Devouring Time, with stealing Pace,
Makes lofty Oaks and Cedars bow;
And Marble Tow'rs, and Gates of Brass,
In his rude March he levels low:
But Time, destroying far and wide,
Love from the Soul can ne'er divide.
VI.
Death, only, with his cruel Dart,
The gentle Godhead can remove;
And drive him from the bleeding Heart,
To mingle with the Blest above;
Where, known to all his Kindred Train,
He finds a lasting Rest from Pain.
VII.
Love, and his Sister fair, the Soul,
Twin-born from Heav'n together came;
Love will the Universe controul,
When dying Seasons lose their Name:
Divine Abodes shall own his Pow'r,
When Time, and Death, shall be no more.
Mr. W. BOWEN.
HE was born in this Kingdom in the Year 1666. and play'd on the
Irish Theatre
several Years. He had a loud strong Voice, which gave him the Title of an Actor of Spirit. Through the Interest of the late Duke of
Ormond,
he got into the Revenue in
London.
He was fiery to a Fault, and passionate to his Prejudice, which drew on his own Death, by the unwilling Hands of Mr.
Quin.
Mr.
Bowen
was too tenacious, and could not brook being told, that the late
Ben Johnson
excell'd in the Part of
Jacomo
in the
Libertine:
Tho' it was given against him by the whole Company. He immediately parted, sent to Mr.
Quin
(in the Name of a Gentleman) to a neighbouring Tavern; when he enter'd,
Bowen
shut the Door, clapt his Back against it, and drew his Sword. Mr.
Quin
mildly expostulated with him, but all to no Purpose. He threaten'd to pin him to the Wainscot, if he did not draw that Moment; which he did to defend his own Life, with an Intention to disarm him: But
Bowen
pressed so furiously upon him, that he receiv'd the Wound which occasion'd his Death three Days after. However, when the Loss of Blood had weakened his Rage, he confess'd his own Folly and Madness had justly drawn on his own Misfortune; and, at the Tryal, Mr.
Quin
was honourably acquitted. Mr.
Bowen
had several Children by his Wife, and a Boy illegitimate, who, tho' he bore his Name, had none of his Care; and therefore lived a dissolute Life, without the least Improvement from Education, and justly gain'd the Nick-name of
Rugged-and-Tough.
One Day a Clergyman in
St. Clement Danes
(a Church in the
Strand)
was catechizing the Children of the Parish, where
Rugged-and-Tough
thrust among the rest.
Rugged
's Dress was none of the cleanest; which the good Parson observing, call'd him the first to be examin'd. I shall put the short Dialogue down just as I had it from an Ear-witness; since the Questions are short, as well as the Answers, they will not appear very tedious.
What's your Name?
Rugged-and-Tough.
Who gave you that Name?
The Boys of our Alley, L—d d—n 'em for't.
The good Parson was a little surpris'd, no doubt; and order'd him to wait till the rest of the Children were examin'd, intending to polish Master
Rugged-and-Tough;
but
Tough,
not liking to wait so long, stole off unperceiv'd. All I could learn of Mr.
Rugged-and-Tough
afterwards was, that, having a great Inclination to travel, he contrived Means to do it at the Charge of the Government.
Thus bad Beginning to bad Ending tends,
And Vice in Nature, Nature seldom mends.
Mr. JOHN BARRINGTON.
THIS Gentleman was born of a good Family in the County of
Corke.
He was bred to the Law, but his stronger Genius led him to the Drama, where he has prov'd himself one of its favourite Children. I think his first Commencement in the Drama was in
Violante
's Booth (as it was then call'd) in
George's-Lane.
He may be well esteem'd an excellent Comic Actor, of infinite Humour; a much-desir'd pleasing Companion, and (what is not always to be met with) a Person of Sincerity. There is a very antient Family of the
Barringtons
in the County of
Essex,
in
England;
where they shew a Record, that their Ancestor was instructed in the Christian Faith by the Preaching of St.
Augustine
the Monk, afterwards Bishop of
Canterbury,
and receiv'd Baptism in the River of
Thames
by that Saint, in the Year of Redemption 597. This Account may, probably, be called a motly one; but what of that? A good Player (from the Poet) may instruct; and, as an old Author writes,
A Verse may find him who a Sermon flies,
And turn Delight into a Sacrifice.
Mr. SPRANGER BARRY.
THIS Gentleman was born in
Dublin.
He was marry'd very young, and, consequently, set forward in the World, perhaps, with too little Consideration. A lively Spirit, and good Sense, are not always prosperous, or meet with that Success equal to their Merit. Neither does the Employment of a Father always sit easy upon the Son. Business is not hereditary. One may gain a Fortune by the same Employment that might be lost by the Descendent. Our young Gentleman, by frequent Attendance at the Theatre, turned his Genius to the
Drama.
Inclination and Fancy are two good Instructors, and a Willingness to please is doing some Part of the Work. A good Person, and an excellent Voice, are great Substantives for the Stage.
The first Part he perform'd in this Kingdom was
Othello
the
Moor
of
Venice:
To the surprising Satisfaction of the general Audience, he seem'd a finish'd Actor dropt from the Clouds. I hear, that in
England
he has gained the Summit of Perfection. I would say more upon the Subject, but, as he received the first Rudiments from me, I shall be silent; yet borrow a few Lines from the Poet, that may give a Remembrance of his Person,
Such Beauty, as great Strength thinks no Disgrace,
Smil'd in the manly Features of his Face:
His tall strait Body amidst Thousands stood,
Like some fair Pine, the loftiest of the Wood.
I don't think I can give the Reader a greater Pleasure, upon this Occasion, than to insert the following Letter upon Mr.
Barry
's first Attempt on the Stage; which may serve for a general Instruction to all on the Theatre.
To Mr.
Spranger Barry,
from a Friend in the Country.
AS I lately heard you were determin'd for the Stage, my Affection for your Person, and Concern for your Misfortunes, gave Occasion to some Reflections which may, possibly, be of Use to you in this new Scene of Life. In the Time of
Athenian
Elegance, when Learning was in Taste, when Liberty was the Blessing of the Public, and the Parent of Arts; which Excellence, alone, found Honour, Capacity, Employment, and Merit, Rewards; the Stage grew suddenly from its Infancy to Maturity, and, from being encouraged, became itself the Encourager of those Talents and Geniuses with which it was supply'd. It was there that each Spectator was taught his particular Conduct, by seeing his own Representation in the general Picture of Life, where the Lights were thrown alone upon Virtue, and the Shades upon Vice; where Great and Eminent, of every Age, were set up for Imitation; where every noble, tender, and exalted Sentiment, was recorded, and daily inculcated; where Purity was invited, Obscenity exiled; and where the Heart was attached to Virtue, by affectingly walking through all its Scenes of Misfortunes; and, lastly, exulting in its final Reward. No Institution, less than divine, could ever be of equal Efficacy, or Advantage: For when Instruction becomes our Entertainment, then, only, it is, that Vice grows detestable, and Virtue delightful, from the Pleasure it brings: And hence were the Sentiments of the
Grecian
Vulgar so exalted, that an immoral Expression, tho' naturally introduced in an immoral Character, has been hiss'd off the Stage. Shall we think, then, that where the Doctrine was so glorious, the Preaching was dishonourable? No, sure. To be an Actor, then, was not to be a
Mimic;
no Trick of Gesture, or Tone of Voice, could avail: Those of Distinction were to be, by Nature, the very Persons they represented; they were to have the same Elevation of Soul, the same Delicacy of Thought, the same Morality of Life, the same Humanity of Heart, and Sweetness of Affections, that could at once constitute the Patriot, the Hero, the Lover, and the Friend. The Words only belonged to the Author, the Sentiments were, by Nature, their own; and hence flowed that Aptness of Attitude, that Ease in Elocution, that expressive Look, that eloquent Silence, that Freedom of Action, and that Harmony of the Whole, which at once exalted, melted, and subdued a mighty Nation to Elegance and Virtue. Where such an Actor was found, he was justly esteem'd a Blessing to the Community. As his Talents were the Admiration, so his Person was the Delight, of all People; in his Life he was honoured, and his Posterity provided for. You will now, perhaps, be tempted to wish, that this was the Stage of the
Athenians;
but Nature and Mankind are always the same; and even on the
English
Theatre I have known some, who gain'd more Encouragement and Respect as Actors, than they deserv'd as Men: But if the Members of your new Province have brought a Scandal on their Profession, let it be your Study to retrieve it. If I have any Judgment, you are qualified to excel in this Way; nor would I have you imagine, that any will shun you in Private, merely because you give them Pleasure and Entertainment in Public. Let your Heart be the true Model of whatever is great, or good, in the Characters you represent: Take Instruction with Pleasure, and Applause with Humility; and then fear not to be received as the Man of Worth, and the Gentleman you have hitherto been esteemed. I am, &c.
Mr. PETER BARDIN,
WAS born in
Dublin,
tho' of
French
Extraction. He bent his Thoughts towards the
Stage
very early in Youth, and, having seen the Performance of the best Actors in
England,
upon the
London
Stages (where, at various Times, he has made one in most of the Theatres in that City), if he has not improv'd, it must be owing to himself. His long Intercourse of Theatrical Action has improv'd his Study, and few Parts become amiss to him, either (as
Shakespear
says)
for Tragedy, Comedy, History, Pastoral, Pastoral-Comical, Historical-Pastoral, Scene undividable, or Poem unlimited, &c.
It does not become me to condemn, or uphold his Conduct, in private Life; however, I cannot avoid giving my Opinion, that such Disputes that have fallen out, need not trouble the Public in their public Diversions. I own, if a Person pays his Money for his Entertainment, he ought to enjoy it quietly. If a Cook at an Ordinary has spoil'd another Person's Dinner, that Person, I think, has no Right to spoil mine; more especially, if I had made a Tinker's Bargain, and paid for my Meal before-hand. Give me Leave to add a printed Paper on the Subject, whose Author has said much more than my Capacity will reach.
A small Animadversion on a late Affair in the Playhouse.
I Went, the other Night, to the Playhouse, in full Expectation of seeing the
Rehearsal
perform'd in as high a Manner as was possible: But, to my great Surprize, the Performance was interrupted, and the Audience disappointed, by a Concert of most unmusical Instruments, in the Gallery. The Cause of this Noise and Hurly-burly was soon found to be a private Dispute between somebody in the Gallery and
Bardin
the Player, which Dispute might (with the Consent of the whole Theatre) have subsisted seven Years, so it had not offended a numerous and polite Audience.
—If a Player, in his private Capacity, offends me, will this warrant my offending a thousand People at once? Should I have a Dispute at Law, or Play with Mr.
G—ck,
must the whole Town, for this Reason, lose the Entertainment of the rarest King
Lear
and
Macbeth
that ever were seen in this, or any other Country? If
B—n
had done any unwarrantable and injurious Thing to a Gentleman,
B—n
should have made proper and ample Satisfaction, in his private Capacity, for the Offence. The Audience had no Right in, nor Care for
B—n,
but they certainly have for Prince
Volscius;
he was their Player; they had paid for him: The Prince had managed his Horse with wondrous Dexterity, and had an undoubted Right to have ridden him to the Battle. There is nothing more mistaken than that Right which some People imagine they have in Theatres, and other publick Places; for, in Truth, their Right consists only in decently partaking of the Entertainment, and, where they think it deserves it, giving a proper and timely Applause. It is the same Right that a Man has in a Ferry-boat, that is (if he behaves himself properly), to be safely and pleasantly landed on the opposite Shore; but, if he disturbs the Passage, and endangers the Boat, the Ferryman and Passengers will certainly join, and throw him overboard. A surly Swain at a Horse-race, fansying he had a Right to any Part of the Sod, would needs ride directly in the Course; the first of the Racers threw him and his Horse twenty Yards on the Ground; and better had it been if he had died with his Horse on the Spot; for he received a Lash from every Whip in the Field. Every Gentleman, properly habited, has a Right to go to Court; but if a Person, having a Pique to a Battle-ax, should breed an Uproar in the Levee-room, he would certainly have a Halberd in his Guts, or be sent to the Black Hole. There can be no Excuse for doing an Injury to a Multitude.
I have often dined at a Two-dish Ordinary, where I had a Right to partake of each; but if I should have taken it into my Head to have thrown one Dish at the Waiter, and kick'd the other about the Floor, I do verily believe I should have been kick'd down Stairs. If a Gentleman (Heaven defend us!) should have a Quarrel on his Hands with a Porter, the Gentleman certainly has a Right to do himself Justice; but I should think it somewhat untimely, if he should knock the Fellow down when he had a Dozen of my Wine on his Back.
Shakespear,
who well understood the Decorum of Theatres, gives strong Advice for proper Behaviour: He speaks it to the Players, but he meant it to the Spectators likewise, tho', in his Modesty, he held it not meet so to set it down. He directs them to be extremely careful not to create the least Noise or Disturbance in the House when the Play should be duly attended to. He concludes, that, to disturb the House,
is villainous, and betrays a pitiful Ambition in the Fool that does it.
I am, Sirs,
your humble Servant.
How necessary it is, we may see, for Stage-performers to have a strict Guard on their Behaviour; and I have said it before, their own Conduct will make them esteemed or slighted, will draw Regard or Insult. To strengthen my own Opinion, I shall insert a very small Paragraph from a very late News-Paper.
Naples, August 16. 1748.
One of the Lords of the Court has been banished, for having publickly insulted, upon the New Theatre, one of the Singing-women of the
Opera.
But many Things are spoke without a Thought,
That, badly constru'd, have Confusion brought.
Mr. JOHN BEAMSLY.
THIS Person has had a large Experience, of Time and Travel, in
England
and
Ireland,
for improving his
Theatrical Genius.
He is decent in many Parts, and seldom offends in any; is ever very perfect, a Voice strong and intelligible, not unharmonious, and may rank in the File of good Actors, either in
Tragedy
or
Comedy.
Merit may shine in various Beams of Light,
And diff'rent Men, in diff'rent Roads, are right.
Mrs. BULLOCK.
THIS Gentlewoman was the Natural Daughter of the late perfect Comedian
Robert Wilks,
Esq
by Mrs.
Rogers,
an Actress of Merit, among great Stage Performers. So parented, one might have expected a finish'd Genius for the Stage: She, however, pleas'd in several dramatic Characters, assisted by a graceful Form and Figure. In the Year 1717. she was join'd in Wedlock to Mr.
Christopher Bullock,
a very promising
Comedian,
who died in the Road to Excellence.
After various Turns of Fortune, she came over to this Kingdom, with her Daughter (now Mrs.
Dyer).
Her Person may put us in mind of her Mother; but she is a happy Stranger to any Failing of her's. Mrs.
Bullock
died in this Kingdom in the Year 1739.
A
Scion
oft proves diff'rent from the Root,
And better Branches will yield better Fruit.
Miss BELLAMY.
THIS young and amiable Actress was born in this Kingdom in the Year 1727. She has a most admirable improving Genius; therefore it will be no Wonder, if she soon reaches the Top of Perfection. She has a liberal open Heart, to feel and ease the Distresses of the Wretched. How amiable must blooming Beauty appear, that forms the Mind with every moral Virtue! She has lately left this Kingdom, to the Regret of all Lovers of the
Drama.
I cannot avoid, upon this Occasion, setting down a few Lines from a Poem on
Bellamy;
the Motto from
Milton.
Grace was in all her Steps, Heav'n in her Eye,
In ev'ry Gesture Dignity and Love.
The Maid, in Action just, in Judgment strong,
Exacts our Wonder, and inspires our Song;
From slavish Rules, mechanic Forms, unty'd,
She soars, with sacred Nature for her Guide.
The Grace-adorning Smile! the feign'd Despair!
The soft'ning Sigh! the Soul-dissolving Tear!
Each magic Charm, lamented
Oldfield
knew,
Inchanting
Bellamy
! revives in you.
'Tis thine, O beauteous Maid! the wond'rous Art,
To search the Soul, and trace the various Heart,
With native Grace, with unaffected Ease,
To form the yielding Passions, as you please.
Oldmixon
Mrs.
Oldmixon,
a celebrated Singer from
England
now in
Dublin.
, Syren-voice, improv'd by Art,
Steals softly on the Song-enamour'd Heart;
But ah! how weak, how feebly, must she wound,
The Maid whose chiefest Charm consists in Sound.
Or should
Mechel
Mademoiselle
Mechel,
an agreeable Dancer, now performing in
Smock-alley
Theatre.
, all languishing, advance,
Her Limbs dissolv'd in well-conducted Dance
(The Soul untouch'd), she may subdue the Sight:
But breathing Wit with Judgment must unite,
To give the Man of Reason unconfin'd Delight.
COLLEY CIBBER,
Esq
THIS great Actor, as well as Author, was once in this Kingdom, many Years age, which I gather'd from his saying he landed in the Night; and when he ask'd what Place they were in, was answer'd,
Ringsend. O! then I am sure we are right;
meaning the Answer a
a native Blunder. But, to rescue that Place from the Aspersion, I am credibly inform'd, it was the original Dwelling of a Person whose Surname was
Ring,
and from him took its Denomination. The Father of this Gentleman was a Native of
Holstein
Holstein
is a Dukedom of
Lower Saxony
in
Germany
One Part belongs to the King of
Denmark,
the rest the Duke of
Holstein.
It has two Imperial Cities: The first,
Lubeck,
a large, fair, and rich Town, accumulated by Trade and Navigation, seated about two Miles from the
Baltick
Sea; the other City is
Hamburgh
upon the
Elbe,
one of the most opulent Marts in
Lower Germany,
it being a free City, and self-dependent. It is very strongly fortify'd. The River
Elbe
ebbs and flows with the Tide, and wafts Ships of large Burden to the Port, from all Parts of the World.
, a Statuary by Profession, without his Equal in this Kingdom. The Figures over the Gate of
Bethlehem
(or
Bedlam,
as it is vulgarly call'd) in
Moorfields,
and the Pedestal, or Base, of the
Monument
Since this is a Pillar, now the finest in the World, and not generally known in this Kingdom, I'll give a Description of it. This noble Structure is erected near the Spot where the dreadful Fire began in the Year 1666. design'd by that great Architect Sir
Christopher Wren.
It is a fluted Column, Two hundred and two Feet high, the greatest Diameter of the Shaft fifteen Foot, the lower Part of the Pedestal Twenty-eight Foot square, and Forty Foot high; built with
Portland
Stone, finely polish'd; the winding Stair-case within (containing 345 Steps, ten Inches and an half broad) black Marble, inclos'd in the spiral Round with Balustrades of Iron, turn'd and ornamented. Thirty-two Foot from the Top, is a square Balcony, secured with Iron Rails, with their Capitals and Bases gilt. The Top of this noble Pillar is crown'd with a Flame, gilt. On the West Side of the square Pedestal,
London
is described by the Figure of a Woman lamenting the Ruins of the City in Flames on one Side of her; and, fronting her,
London
in all its Magnificence, rebuilt. This noble Sculpture was design'd and finish'd, in Bassorelievo, by
Caius Gabriel Cibber,
Father to the Laureat. This Pillar was begun in 1671. and finish'd in the Year 1677. at the Charge of the Public, in Commemoration of that fatal Fire in 1666. on the Second Day of
September,
which consum'd 13200 Houses, 400 Streets, 89 Churches, and most of the public Structures. The Top of the square Base is ornamented by large Dragons, between them the Arms of
England,
with Engines of War display'd;
Time,
with the rest of the Figures, masterly finish'd; with
London,
represented in the Clouds in another Figure of a Woman looking on the City once more in her Glory; form a noble Group, that cannot be describ'd in Words. The three other Squares are fill'd with Inscriptions relating to the fatal Accident (tho' some Authors impute it to Design) too long to mention here.
, were carv'd by him.
Mr.
Colley Cibber,
the Son of this great
Artist,
was born the Sixth of
November
1671. in
London;
but I shall refer the Reader to the
Apology
for his own Life, printed for
G. Faulkner.
The excellent
Dramatic
Works of this Author are,
1. Love's last Shift; or, The Fool in Fashion. 1696.
2. Woman's Wit; or, The Lady in Fashion. 1697.
3. Xerxes;
a Tragedy.
1699.
4. Love makes a Man; or, The Fop's Fortune. 1700.
5. The Careless Husband. 1704.
6. The Lady's last Stake; or, The Wife's Resentment. 1708.
7. The Comical Lovers.
8. She Wou'd and she Wou'd Not; or, The kind Impostor.
9. Richard
the Third.
10. The Rival Fools.
11. Perolla and Izadora,
a Tragedy.
12. The Double Gallant; or, The Sick Lady's Cure.
13. The School-boy.
14. The Nonjuror. 1717.
15. Venus and Adonis,
a Masque; set to Music.
1717.
16. Myrtilla,
a Masque.
1717.
17. The Refusal; or, The Lady's Philosophy. 1720.
18. Ximena; or, The Heroic Daughter.
19. Caesar in Egypt. 1725.
20. The Provok'd Husband; or, A Journey to London. 1727.
21. Love in a Riddle. 1728.
22. Damon and Phillida.
23. Papal Tyranny in the Reign of King John.
24. The Country Wake.
Besides these
Dramatic
Pieces, he has wrote innumerable Songs, Prologues, &c. several humorous Pamphlets, the excellent
Apology for his own Life,
and a Critic upon
Middleton
's Translation of
Cicero.
As Envy seldom attacks any other Object but conspicuous Merit, this Gentleman was generally attack'd by the Tribe of Scribblers, his cotemporary Authors, that,
Like Village-curs, bark when their Fellows do;
which he regarded not; and if he ever seem'd to rouse, it was like the Lion in Don
Quixot: Rise, stretch, and p—ss in his Face.
As to his Person, he is strait, and well made; of an open Countenance, even free from the conspicuous Marks of old Age. Meet or follow him, and no Person would imagine he ever bore the Burden of above two Thirds of his Years. He is Head of a numerous Family; and it might be said, as a
German
Author writes of the
Nestorian
Lady
Malburges,
of that Country;
Mater ait natae, Dic natae, filia natam
Ut moneat natae plangere filiolam.
"The aged
Mother
to her
Daughter
spake,
"Daughter, said she, arise!
"Thy Daughter to her Daughter take,
"Whose Daughter's Daughter cries."
Mr. THEOPHILUS CIBBER.
THIS Gentleman came into the World on the Day of the great and destructive Storm in 1703. whose Rage rang'd over the greatest Part of
Europe,
but, I think, most fatal to
England.
He is Son to
Colley Cibber,
Esq
that excellent Comedian, the present Poet Laureat, whose dramatic Works are so well known.
Mr.
Theophilus Cibber
receiv'd his Education at
Winchester
School: His strong Genius for the
Theatre
brought him early upon the Stage, where he has appear'd in full Lustre in the various Branches of Comedy; and tho' he has perform'd several Parts in Tragedy with Success, in my Imagination the
Sock
sits easier upon him than the
Buskin.
His first Wife, mention'd in the Account of Mrs.
Clive,
was Miss
Johnson,
by whom he had two Daughters. The eldest, I am inform'd, has appear'd on the Stage with great Prospect of excelling, first in the Part of
Juliet,
in
Romeo
and
Juliet,
by
Shakespear.
His second Wife, Miss
Arne
(by whom he has no living Issue), is arriv'd at the highest Pitch of Excellence in the amiable, soft, and tender.
Mr.
Theophilus Cibber
has appear'd twice as a dramatic Author;
viz.
first,
Henry the Sixth,
alter'd from
Shakespear,
which was play'd in the Summer-season of 1721. without any Criticks laying hold of it: His second Performance in the Drama was, a Comedy call'd
The Lover;
but as the Criticks were always ready arm'd to attack the Father, they drew their Indignation on the Son, with the false Imagination that the Father was the conceal'd Author. But I am positively convinced to the contrary; for that Gentleman to me refus'd the Sight of it before it appear'd on the Stage, for the very Reasons, he suspected, that fell out accordingly. However, he wrote an
Epilogue,
that was spoken by Mr.
Theophilus
and his Wife, that took away the Sting of the Revelrout, and the Play was perform'd six Nights in the Year 1731. The
Epilogue,
for its Singularity, I shall insert here.
EPILOGUE, Spoken by the AUTHOR, and his WIFE.
NOW, I suppose, you'll find your Work is done;
Did not I say—you were your Father's Son?
Be what it might, your Play, the Town wou'd game it,
That your bare Name were half a Cause to damn it?
Experience, to your Cost, will shew you now,
Who wears the wiser Head, your Wife, or you.
Tho' all this shou'd be true, my pretty Rogue,
Yet what's all this, dear
Jane,
to th'
Epilogue?
Why, what's an
Epilogue
to such a Play?
Will it be sav'd, by ought that I can say?
No matter what's its Merit—no, my Dear,
When many a Husband's Case has known Despair,
A wheedling Wife has brought the Thing to bear.
O, I'm your humble Servant, humble Sir!
Now you're distress'd, you my weak Head prefer—
No, Sir, since you have had your Frolick, pay it—
When you have rais'd the Storm, your Wife must lay it.
I'll give you Composition, gentle Spouse,
All my clear Benefit of my Third-day's House,
Which may amount to—not one single Souse.
Were mine, alone, the Case, that may be true;
Yet to your very Sex some Pity's due:
They'll not, with me, destroy the Guiltless, too.
To the Audience.
Gallants, in this,
I hope, he has touch'd your Hearts;
Let not me suffer for his weak Deserts:
Do not to last Extremes your Censure drive;
Give us, at least, an honest Chance to live.
Our Fate is in your Hands—If you are brave,
You'll think the Triumph less to ruin, than to save.
This Comedy the Author dedicated to his Wife, in order to make a perfect Agreement between them. He has also wrote several small Pieces in Verse and Prose, occasionally, besides several Letters in an odd Dispute between him and Mr.
Thomas Sheridan,
printed
here,
and in
London.
I shall not meddle with conjugal Affairs; these short Memoirs would swell too large, and the Belly, out of Proportion for the Body, appear dropsical, and require Tapping.
Then draw a Veil o'er what must be conceal'd,
To hide those Faults that should not be reveal'd.
Mrs. CIBBER.
THIS true and perfect Actress was Daughter to Mr.
Arne,
an eminent
Upholder
in
Covent-Garden.
Her first Appearance on the Stage was as a Singer; her Voice and Judgment gain'd her universal Applause: But when she commenced a speaking Actress, she charm'd anew. Her first Appearance was in the Part of
Zara,
to the Admiration of every Spectator that had their auricular Faculties; and, since that, has prov'd herself the Daughter of Nature in Perfection. I shall add a
Prologue
wrote by the
Laureat,
on her first appearing in the Part of
Zara,
and leave her to enjoy her deserved Praise.
Spoke by Mr. CIBBER.
THE
French,
howe'er Mercurial they may seem,
Extinguish Half their Fire by critic Phlegm;
While
English
Writers Nature's Freedom claim,
And warm their Scenes with an ungovern'd Flame.
'Tis strange that Nature never should inspire
A
Racine
's Judgment with a
Shakespear
's Fire!
Howe'er, To-night (to promise much we're loth)
But—you've a Chance to have a Taste of both.
From
English
Plays
Zara
's
French
Author fir'd,
Confess'd his Muse beyond herself inspir'd:
From rack'd
Othello
's Rage he rais'd his Style,
And snatch'd the Brand that lights this tragic Pile:
Zara
's Success his utmost Hopes outflew,
And a twice twentieth weeping Audience drew.
As for our
English
Friend, he leaves to you,
Whate'er may seem to his Performance due.
No Views of Gain his Hopes or Fears engage,
He
gives
a Child of Leisure to the Stage;
Willing to try, if yet forsaken Nature
Can charm, with any one remember'd Feature.
Thus far the Author speaks—But now the Player
With trembling Heart presents his humble Prayer.
To-night, the greatest Venture of my Life
Is lost, or sav'd, as you receive—a Wife.
If Time, you think, may ripen her to Merit,
With gentle Smiles support her wav'ring Spirit.
Zara,
in
France,
at once an Actress rais'd,
Warm'd into Skill by being kindly prais'd:
O! could such Wonders here from Favour flow,
How would our
Zara
's Heart with Transport glow!
But she, alas! by juster Fears opprest,
Begs but your bare
Endurance,
at the best:
Her unskill'd Tongue would simple
Nature
speak
Nor dares
her
Bounds for false Applauses break.
Amidst a thousand Faults, her best Pretence
To please—is unpresuming Innocence.
When a chaste Heart's Distress your Grief demands,
One silent Tear outweighs a thousand Hands.
If she conveys the pleasing Passions right,
Guard and support her this decisive Night.
If she mistakes, or finds her Strength too small,
Let interposing Pity break her Fall—
In you it rests to save her, or destroy.
If she draws Tears from you—I weep—for Joy.
Mr. OLIVER CASHEL.
I Know little more of this Gentleman, than that he was born in
Ireland,
of a very antient reputable Family. He commenced Actor in this Kingdom, where he made but slow Progress, as I have been inform'd. He was recommended to the Manager in
Drury-lam
by his Friend and Countryman Mr.
Charles Macklin,
who brought him from the
Bristol
Theatre, where they both play'd the Summer before, I think in the Year 1738.
The first Part he play'd on
Drury-lam
Theatre was, Sir
Julius Caefar
in Sir
Walter Ralegh,
where his good Figure was his best Friend; for Fear had made his Voice not his own (if I may be allow'd that Term). It is a Theatrical Observation, that Fear, in the first setting-out Attempt on the Stage, is not an il Omen; for many, that have set on without it have play'd their best, and never mended afterwards. This Gentleman is one Proof of it; for he got the better of his Fear, proving a very good Theatrical Officer in a little Time
The first Dramatic Piece of Mr.
Dryden,
that great Poet, was, a Comedy call'd
The Wild Gallant,
that met with so little Success (as
Langbain
says), "that if he had not a peculiar Force of Inclination to the
Drama,
he would have been sufficiently discouraged from any farther Progress in Dramatic Writing".
: And I hear, since I have left
England,
has so far excelled in Captain
Macheath
in the
Beggars Opera
(which requires a good
Singer,
to the Qualifications of a good
Actor),
that his Merit has given this excellent Piece a large fresh Run in
Covent-garden,
which he went to from
Drury-lane,
eight or nine Years ago.
This Gentleman died at
Norwich
(the capital City of the County of
Norfolk).
He was taken speechless on the Stage in the Part of
Frankly,
in a Comedy call'd
The Suspicious Husband:
He was carried to his Lodgings, where Physicians and Surgeons attended, but to no Purpose; for he expired in a few Hours, in spight of the Doctor.
Death eases Lovers, sets the Captive free,
And, tho' a Tyrant, offers Liberty.
Mrs. CATHARINE CLIVE (formerly Miss RAFTOR).
THIS celebrated natural Actress was the Daughter of Mr.
William Raftor,
a Gentleman born in the City of
Kilkenny
in
Ireland.
The Father of her Father was possessed of a considerable Paternal Estate in the County where he was born; but the Parent of our Actress being unhappily attach'd to the unfortunate King
James
the Second, the late Revolution gave it, among many others, to the Crown. Mr.
James Raftor,
her Brother, went over to
Ireland,
some Years ago, in order to solicit for his Grandfather's Fortune; but did not meet with Success.
Mr.
William Raftor,
the Father, was bred to the Law; however, when King
James
was in
Ireland,
he enter'd into his Service; and, after the decisive Battle of the
Boyne,
in the Year 1690. he follow'd his Master's Fortune, and, by his Merit, obtain'd a Captain's Commission in the Service of
Lewis
the Fourteenth; but, gaining a Pardon, with many other Gentlemen in his Condition, he came to
England,
where he married Mrs.
Daniel,
Daughter to an eminent Citizen on
Fishstreethill,
with whom he had a handsome Fortune: By her he had a numerous Issue.
Miss
Catharine
was born in the Year 1711. She had an early Genius for the Stage; for she told me, when she was about twelve Years old, Miss
Johnson
(afterwards the first Wife of Mr.
Theo. Cibber,
another rising Genius, if Death had not overtaken her in her Prime of Youth) and she, used to tag after the celebrated Mr.
Wilks
(her own Words) whenever they saw him in the Streets, and gape at him as a Wonder.
Miss
Raftor
had a facetious Turn of Humour, and infinite Spirits, with a Voice and Manner in finging Songs of Pleasantry peculiar to herself. Those Talents Mr.
Theo. Cibber
and I (we all at that Time living together in one House) thought a sufficient Pasport to the
Theatre.
We recommended her to the
Laureat,
whose infallible Judgment soon found out her Excellencies; and the Moment he heard her sing, put her down in the List of Performers at twenty Shillings
per
Week. But never any Person of her Age flew to Perfection with such Rapidity; and the old discerning Managers always distinguish'd Merit by Reward. Her first Appearance was in the Play of
Mithridates
King of
Pontus,
in
Ismenes
the Page to
Ziphares,
in Boy's Cloaths, where a Song proper to the Circumstances of the Scene was introduced, which she performed with extraordinary Applause. But after this, like a Bullet in the Air, there was no distinguishing the Track, till it came to its utmost Execution.
I remember the first Night of
Love in a Riddle
(which was murdered in the same Year) a Pastoral Opera wrote by the
Laureat,
which the Hydra-headed Multitude resolv'd to worry without hearing, a Custom with Authors of Merit, when Miss
Raftor
came on in the Part of
Phillida,
the monstrous Roar subsided. A Person in the Stage Box, next to my Post, called out to his Companion in the following elegant Stile—
Zounds,
Tom
! take Care; or this charming little Devil will save all.
In the Year 1732. she was marry'd to Mr.
G. Clive,
Son to Mr. Baron
Clive.
I shall be silent in conjugal Affairs; but in all my long Acquaintance with her, I could never imagine she deserved ill Usage.
I shall take Leave of this excellent Actress with the following Lines (as every Part cannot fit the best Performers):
Merit mistaken oft may lose its Way,
And pore in Darkness with the Blaze of Day.
Mademoiselle CHATEAUNEUF.
THIS agreeable Dancer (as she play'd
Polly
in the
Beggars Opera,
&c.) must come under my Cognizance. She was born in
France,
what Town or Province, has stole from my Memory. Her real Name was not what she bore. She was in her Infancy an Orphan, and Monsieur
Chateauneuf
took her from her Distresses, and bred her up as his own Daughter. Her Virtue never was tainted in most Peoples Opinion; but as our immortal
Shakespear
says,
Be thou as chaste as Ice, as pure as Snow,
Thou shalt not 'scape Calumny.
When I was instructing her in the Part of
Polly,
she told me, a Lady that Morning was surprised to hear from a Gentleman of her Acquaintance, that she was taken for a Boy in Disguise. (This Gentleman, it seems, was a Person that would have been very willing to have been certain of the Distinction of Sexes.)
I told the Lady,
said Miss
Chateauneuf, I was very glad he knew no more of me.
Which I think was a quick and witty Answer. She was born the same Day that our young Hero the
Duke
came into the World,
April
15. 1721.
Since leaving this Kingdom she is marry'd to her supposed Father, Monsieur
Chateauneuf;
and now it is made her real Name. This Intelligence I had from a Gentleman that lately came from
Bourdeaux
'Tis possible every body cannot tell where
Bourdeaux
lies: It is a very fine City and Sea-port, the Capital of the Province of
Guicnne.
It is graced with a Parliament, a University, and an Archbishop, seated on the fine River
Garonne,
and is esteemed one of the richest trading Cities in
France. Ausonius,
a celebrated
Latin
Poet, owes his Birth to this Place. Most Lovers of
Bacchus
very much commend the Growth of its Grape. One of our
English
Monarchs
(Richard
the Second) drew here his first Breath. This Dukedom was once an Attendant upon the Crown of
England,
as tack'd to the Tail of
Eleanor
Heiress of
Poictiers,
wedded to King
Henry
the Second, which is my chief Reason for this Scrap of
Geography.
There is also a very handsome Theatre in this City, and the Country exceeding pleasant about it, being in the South of
France.
, where he conversed with them, being at the Head of a Troop of Comedians of their own, where he heard Madem
Chateauneuf
sing several
English
Songs by Desire of the Audience, particularly the Song of
Rosy Wine
from the Masque of
Comus
altered from
Milton.
Thus Midwife Time brings many Things to Light,
That long lay hid within the Womb of Night.
Mrs. CHETWOOD.
SHE was upon this Stage in the Year 1741. an agreeable
Actress,
when the Part suited her Voice; a tolerable
Dancer,
and a pleasing
Colombine.
Being Grand-daughter to the present
Laureat,
'tis no Wonder if she had a little Wit.
But Wit and Wisdom seldom well agree:
Wisdom would fetter what the Wit would free.
Mr.
DENIS DELANE,
IS a Native of
Ireland,
descended from an antient Family. He received his Education in
Trinity
College,
Dublin,
a Fountain of Learning, whose Streams have watered the Universe.
He appeared first on the
Dublin
Stage, and was very well received; his Person and excellent Voice, joined with his other Merits, gained him the Esteem as he justly deserved. However, he set out for
London,
where he was recommended to the Managers of
Drury-Lane,
I think in the Year 1731. but their Company being brimful, even to the running over, the Managers did not give him the Encouragement that the Promise of his Voice and Person deserved. Mr.
Giffard
took hold of the Occasion, and engaged him for his Theatre in
Goodman
's-
Fields,
where he had a better Opportunity of shining without any Rival Ray. Mr.
Quin,
as I am inform'd (who can distinguish Merit from his own superior Judgment), prevailed upon him to leave that Corner of the Town, and act on the same Stage with him
(Covent-Garden).
Persons of the
Drama
may be compared to the
Swiss-Cantons,
willing to fight for those who give the best Pay; therefore it is no Novelty to see them change Sides.
Mr.
Delane
is now marching under the Banner of
Covent-Garden.
He has an Estate in this Kingdom, and came over last Year (tho' I had not the Pleasure of seeing him). I am informed he is inclining more to the Bulky since I saw him last, which is a Recommendation to many capital Parts that may sit easy, and give Pleasure, when the Bloom of Youth is gone.
Truncheons, or Lawn, do seldom Youth become,
For distant War, or Bishopricks at Home.
Mr. DYER,
IS not only a useful, but a very pleasing Actor; his good Voice, and easy-acquired Manner, gives him a Cast above many of his Cotemporaries, being the best allowed Singer on the
Dublin
Theatre, that is not a profess'd Singer. I am no Friend to
Mimicry,
yet if I could be pleased with that natural Qualification (if I may be allowed to call it so), I do not know one could give me more Pleasure than Mr.
Dyer;
for he can
take off
(as the Theatrical Term expresses it) not only every Actor, Male and Female, he has seen and heard, worth mimicking, but also Singers and Dancers, foreign and domestic. All these Qualifications, join'd to a good Understanding, will render him acceptable in any Theatre.
A just Behaviour claims a due Regard,
Tho' Modesty will fail to meet Reward.
THOMAS ELRINGTON,
Esq
THIS excellent
Actor
was born in
June
1688. in
London.
His Father having a numerous Issue, put his Son Apprentice to an Upholder in
Covent-Garden,
where I was first acquainted with him. He was early addicted to the Drama. I remember, when he was an Apprentice, we play'd in several private Plays together: when we were preparing to act
Sophonisba,
or,
Hannibal
's
Overthrow,
after I had wrote out my Part of
Massiva,
I carried him the Book of the Play to study the Part of King
Masinissa;
I found him finishing a Velvet Cushion, and gave him the Book; but alas! before he could secrete it, his Master (a hot voluble
Frenchman)
came in upon us, and the Book was thrust under the Velvet of the Cushion. His Master, as usual, rated him for not working, with a
Mortbleu! why a you not vark,
Tom? and stood over him so long, that I saw, with some Mortification, the Book irrecoverably stitch'd up in the Cushion, never to be retriev'd till the Cushion is worn to Pieces. Poor
Tom
cast many a desponding Look upon me when he was finishing the Fate of the Play, while every Stitch went to both our Hearts. His Master observing our Looks, turn'd to me, and with Words that broke their Necks over each other for Haste, abused both of us: The most intelligible of his great Number of Words, were
Jack Pudenges,
and the like Expressions of Contempt.
But our Play was gone for ever! Another time we were so bold to attempt
Shakespear
's
Hamlet,
where our 'Prentice
Tom
had the Part of the
Ghost,
Father to young
Hamlet.
His Armour was composed of Pasteboard, neatly painted. The
Frenchman
had Intelligence of what we were about, and to our great Surprize and Mortification, made one of our Audience. The Ghost in its first Appearance is dumb to
Horatio.
While these Scenes past, the
Frenchman
only muttered between his Teeth, and we were in Hopes his Passion would subside; but when our Ghost began his first Speech to
Hamlet, Mark me,
he reply'd,
Begar me vil marke you presently
! and, without saying any more, beat our poor Ghost off the Stage through the Street, while every Stroke on the Pasteboard Armour grieved the Auditors (because they did not pay for their Seats) insomuch that three or four ran after the Ghost, and brought him back in Triumph, with the avenging
Frenchman
at his Heels, who would not be appeas'd till our
Ghost
promised him never to commit the Offence of Acting again. A Promise made like many others, never intended to be kept. However, in the last Year of his Time, his rigid Master gave him a little more Liberty, and our young Actor play'd different Parts, till he was taken Notice of by Mr.
Keene,
an excellent
Player
at that Time. He was introduced upon the Stage in the Part of
Oroonoko,
where he met with a good Reception in the Year 1711.
The next Season he was invited over by
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
and in the Year 1713. wedded the Daughter of that worthy Gentleman, by whom he had a numerous Issue, particularly three Sons, who are now alive; the eldest, Mr.
Joseph Elrington,
who makes a considerable Figure on the present Theatre here; Mr.
Richard Elrington,
now of a Country Company in
England;
and Mr.
Thomas Elrington,
the youngest, first an Ensign, now a Lieutenant in Colonel
Flemming
's Regiment in
Flanders.
Mr.
Elrington
the Father was a true Copy of Mr.
Verbruggen,
a very great Actor in Tragedy, and polite Parts in Comedy; but the former had an infinite Fund of (what is called Low) Humour upon the Stage. I have seen him perform Don
Cholerick
in the
Fop's Fortune
with infinite Pleasure; he entered into the true Humour of the Character, equal to the Original, Mr.
William Penkethman.
His Voice was manly, strong, and sweetly full-ton'd; his Figure tall and well-proportion'd. His eldest Son, Mr.
Joseph Elrington,
is most like him in Person and Countenance.
This excellent Player succeeded his Father-in-law,
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
in the Place of Steward of the
King's-Inns;
and the more to establish him in the Kingdom, a Post was given him of fifty Pounds a Year in the
Quit-Rent Office;
also
Gunner
to the Train of Artillery, a Gift of the Lord
Mountjoy,
Father to the present Earl of
Blessington,
which at the Death of that noble Lord, he got Permission to dispose of. He was a Gentleman of Honour, Humanity, and extensive Good-nature, of a facetious well manner'd Conversation, a little too desirable for his Health, from Company of the best Condition. He was taken ill the very Day he was consulting a Plan for a new Theatre, after the Form of that in
Drury-Lane, London,
with an eminent Builder of this City. He went home, where his Malady increas'd to a violent Pleuritic Fever, which never left him (notwithstanding all the Physicians Art) till he expir'd
July
22. 1732
He was interr'd in
St. Michan
's Church-yard, near the Remains of his Father-in-law,
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
Mr.
Elrington
had one Daughter marry'd to Mr.
Wrightson,
now in
England
with a Country Company. I never saw her; but have been inform'd she has many promising Theatrical Talents.
.
I shall leave him to eternal Rest, with the following Lines, and a short Epitaph.
Thus, when our stated Time of Life is come,
And Pow'r Almighty has pronounc'd our Doom;
The best Physician's Art is shewn in vain,
And Death's the Doctor that must end our Pain.
EPITAPH, On THOMAS ELRINGTON,
Esq
THOU best of Actors here interr'd,
No more thy charming Voice is heard,
This Grave thy Coarse contains:
Thy better Part, which us'd to move
Our Admiration, and our Love,
Has fled its sad Remains.
Tho' there's no monumental Brass,
Thy sacred Relicks to encase,
Thou wond'rous Man of Art!
A Lover of the Muse divine,
O!
Elrington,
shall be thy Shrine,
And carve thee in his Heart.
Mr.
FRANCIS ELRINGTON,
WAS born in
London
in the Year 1692.
He had a small Post in the Wardrobe under his Grace the Duke of
Montague;
but hearing the Success of his elder Brother in
Ireland,
he left his Post, to follow the Call he had to the Stage. By his Theatrical Observations in
England,
he set out in
Ireland
with Success, improving his Talents so well, that he gave the utmost Satisfaction in many capital Parts. His Grace the Duke of
Dorset,
when Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland,
gave him a Post in the Revenue, which he faithfully executed, and enjoy'd to his Death.
He was in a languishing State of Health near two Years; but the last Stroke he received at
Kilkenny,
where Part of the Company were playing during the Time of the Camp being at
Bennet's-Bridge;
he was carried back to his House in
Drumcondra-lane,
where, after a few Days Struggle, Death overcame him in
August,
1746. in the 53d Year of his Age, of a
Polypus
A
Polypus
is an Excrescence, or fleshy fungous Substance that grows in or about the Heart; a slow, but certain Death. This Distemper is sometimes found in the thick Membrane of the Brain, which proves fatal. This Disease often seizes the Nose, and other hollow Parts of the Body, fixing its Fibres like the Root of a Plant, which must be cut off, and intirely eradicated, or it will grow again.
How many Ways has proud imperious Death,
To plunder, storm, and steal away our Breath!
, to the Regret of all his Acquaintance.
Mr. RALPH ELRINGTON,
IS the younger Brother of the late eminent Player
Thomas Elrington,
Esq
born in
England,
and came early upon the Stage, tho' without any Countenance (as I have been inform'd) from his Friends and Relations. Since his elder Brother's Death he has undertaken many of his Parts, which he copies as near as possible.
He was admired some Years ago as a good executing
Harlequin,
Agility and Strength being two main Ingredients in the Composition of that motly Gentleman, where
Heels
are of more Use than the
Head.
In one of his Feats of Activity he was much hurt, and was in some Danger of breaking his Neck to please the Spectators, the Ears having little to do in such Entertainments; yet this unlucky Spring met with universal Applause.
I remember a Tumbler in the
Hay-market
Theatre in
London
by such an Accident beat the Breath out of his Body, which raised such vociferous Applause, that lasted longer than the vent'rous Man's Life, for he never breathed more. Indeed his Wife had this Comfort, when the Truth was known, Pity succeeded to the Roar of Applause.
Another Accident like this, fell out in Dr.
Faustus,
a Pantomime Entertainment in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields
Theatre, where a Machine in the Working broke, threw the mock
Pierrot
down headlong with such Force, that the poor Man broke a Plank on the Stage with his Fall, and expired: Another was so sorely maimed, that he did not survive many Days; and a third, one of the softer Sex, broke her Thigh. But to prevent such Accidents for the future, those Persons are represented by inanimate Figures, so that if they break a Neck, a Leg, or an Arm, there needs no Surgeon.
Another Accident of the same Kind happened in
Smock-alley,
which gave me much Concern, as having a Hand in the Contrivance. The late Mr.
Morgan
being to fly on the Back of a Witch, in the
Lancashire Witches,
thro' the Ignorance of the Workers in the Machinery, the Fly broke, and they both fell together, but thro' Providence they neither of them were much hurt; and such Care was taken afterwards, that no Accident of that Kind
could
happen.
When Danger's fled, it dwells upon the Mind,
And leaves the strong Impression still behind.
Mr. RICHARD ESTCOURT.
THIS excellent Comedian was born at
Tewksbury,
in the County of
Gloucester,
in the Year 1668. where he received his Education in the
Latin
School of that Town. He had an early Desire for the Stage; for, in the 15th Year of his Age, he stole from his Father's House with a Country Company, and at
Worcester,
for fear of being known, set out with the Part of
Roxana,
in Woman's Apparel (in
Alexander the Great);
but his Father, having Notice of it, sent to secure the Fugitive, who made his Escape in a Suit of Woman's Cloaths that he borrowed of one of the Itinerant Ladies, and trudg'd it to
Chipping-Norton,
a Corporation-town in
Oxfordshire,
twenty-five long Miles in one Day. When he came to the Inn, Beds were scarce, and he was obliged to take up with that of the Daughter's behind the Bar: The young Woman, going to Bed, found the wearied Traveller in a profound Sleep; but, observing the Shirt instead of a Shift, she began to suspect her design'd Bedfellow; and, stooping to look on the Dress that lay upon the Ground, she saw a Pair of Man's Shoes under the Bed, that convinced her she might have been in an odd Situation, if she had gone to Bed in the Dark. She, upon the Discovery, instantly called in the People of the House, and waked our drowsy Traveller. The Landlord had designed to carry him decently to the Horse-pond, till
Dick
made a true Confession of the whole Affair. By Accident, a Person of the Town of
Tewksbury
put up at the said Inn that Night, who knew our young disguised Wanderer; and that Knowlege signed his Pardon. In two Days afterwards his Cloaths were brought him from
Worcester,
accompanied with a Messenger from his Father, who led him the Road home again.
Soon after, the Father went with him to
London,
where he bound him fast to an Apothecary in
Hatton-garden.
He was too impatient to wait so long a Time for Liberty; therefore he stretched his Bonds till they broke, and, after an
itinerant
Life two Years in
England,
he went to try his Fortune in
Ireland,
where he shone in an exalted theatrical Sphere for some Years, when he returned to
London;
where, by his Wit, and mimic Humour, his Conversation was taken up by Persons of the highest Rank, and Parts.
He was made Providore of the
Beef-Stake-Club,
and, for a Mark of Distinction, wore their Badge, which was a small Gridiron of Gold, hung about his Neck with a green silk Ribband. This Club was compos'd of the chief Wits and great Men of the Nation.
Mr.
Estcourt
was the original Serjeant
Kite,
and every Night of Performance entertained the Audience with Variety of little Catches, and Flights of Humour, that pleased all but his
Critics.
He was a great Favourite with the late Duke of
Marlborough,
whose just Fame he celebrated in several out-of-the way witty Ballads. He was Author of a Comedy called
The Wife's Excuse; or, Cuckolds make themselves;
and acted at the Theatre-Royal in the Year 1706. but, as I have been informed, with moderate Success. Another little Piece was produced by him, call'd
Prunella,
a Burlesque upon the
Italian Operas,
then stole into Fashion, too much supported by the excellent Voice and Judgment of Mrs.
Tofts:
But such an odd Medley—Mrs.
Tofts,
a mere
Englishwoman,
in the Part of
Camilla,
courted by
Nicolini
in
Italian,
without understanding one single Syllable each other
said
or
sung;
and, on the other Hand,
Valentini
courting amorously, in the same Language, a
Dutchwoman,
that committed Murder on our good old
English,
with as little Understanding as a
Parrot:
Though it was reported a Lady, of some Quality, fell desperately in Love with
Nicolini;
which occasioned the following Lines, that were pinn'd to
Nicolini
's Coat in a Chocolatehouse.
Soft thrilling Notes, swell'd out with Art,
May wound, alas! the fair one's Heart;
Yet these
Italians
will not feel;
The Wounds
they
give, they cannot heal.
Yet, notwithstanding the Lashes given by
Estcourt,
and others, the enervating Weakness took more Hold, like Folly, and new Sects in Religion. Persecution but gains more Proselytes.
This celebrated Comedian paid his Debt to Nature in the Year 1733. after leaving the Stage some Years. Sir
Richard Steele
gives him this Character, in his Lucubrations: "An excellent Companion, one who was perfectly Master of well-turned Compliments, as well as smart Repartees; which shews a ready Wit
The first Account of this eminent Performer I had from the late Mr.
John Bowman,
an Actor more than Half an Age on the
London Theatres.
This Gentleman was born in the Year 1666. and died in the Year 1739. I have often heard him say, he never remember'd that any Indisposition retarded his coming to the Theatre during his long Course of Life; and this Declaration was made not a Month before he died. He never met with Contempt in the latter Part of his Life; and we may end with two Lines in
Jane Shore:
Age sat with decent Grace upon his Visage,
And worthily became his silver Locks.
."
Mr. JOHN EVANS.
THIS Person was an Actor of very good Repute in this Kingdom, join'd in the Management with Mr.
Thomas Elrington,
Mr.
Thomas Griffith,
&c. His Person was inclineable to the Gross; therefore wanted Delicacy for the amiable Parts; he had an excellent harmonious Voice, and just Delivery, but a little too indolent for much Study or Contemplation.
In the last Year of the Reign of Queen
Anne,
the Company of
Dublin
went down, in the Summer Season, to play at
Corke:
One Evening Mr.
Evans
was invited, by some Officers of a Regiment then on Duty in that City, to a Tavern: Many Healths were propos'd, and went round, without Reluctance; when it came to Mr.
Evans
's Turn, he proposed the Health of her Majesty Queen
Anne,
which so much disgusted one of the Company (tho' cloath'd in the Livery of his Royal Mistress), that he ran down Stairs, and sent up a Drawer to whisper Mr.
Evans;
who immediately put on his Sword, and went after him, without taking the least Notice to the Company. He found his Antagonist in a Room in the Passage of the Tavern, with the Door half open, who courageously made a Thrust at Mr.
Evans,
which he put by with his left Hand; at this, Mr.
Evans
drew, thrust the Door wide open, enter'd, and soon drove his Opposer out to the Passage, where he disarmed the doughty Hero, before the Company above Stairs knew any thing of the Matter. The rest of the military Gentlemen expressed an Abhorrence to the Treatment Mr.
Evans
received, and, seemingly, reconciled them on the Spot; but, notwithstanding, when the Company return'd to
Dublin,
the Person who sent the Challenge up Stairs at
Corke,
being then returned also, told his own Story in such a Manner, that several warm Gentlemen of the Army were made to believe, that Mr.
Evans
had affronted the whole Body Military; and when the poor suppos'd Culprit came to his Business of the Theatre, their Clamour, in the Audience, was so great, that the House was dismiss'd, and no Play to be acted till Mr.
Evans
had asked public Pardon upon the Stage. His high Spirit was, with great Difficulty, brought to submit, but at last he consented. I remember the Play was,
The Rival Queens; or, The Death of Alexander the Great;
the Part of
Alexander
to be acted by the Delinquent. He came to ask Pardon before the Curtain: When he address'd the Audience, one Smart, from the Pit, cried out,
Kneel, you Rascal! Evans,
then collected in himself, replied, in the same Tone of Voice,
No, you Rascal! I'll kneel to none but God, and my Queen
! A dangerous Paroxysm, at such a Crisis. However, as there were many worthy Gentlemen of the Army who knew the whole Affair, the new-rais'd Clamour ceas'd, and the Play went through without any Molestation, and, by Degrees, Things return'd to their proper Chanel. By this we may see, it is some Danger for an Actor to be in the right.
Three Years after this Affair, Mr.
Evans
went to the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
and, in his Journey back to
Ireland,
was taken ill of a Fever, at the Town of
Whitchurch
in
Shorpshire;
from whence he was removed, for better Advice, to
Chester,
where he ended his Progress of Life, in the 41st Year of his Age; and was privately buried in the Cathedral, without Monument, Stone, or Inscription.
Thus may great Merit in Oblivion lie,
And rest forgotten to Eternity.
Mr. WILLIAM ESTE.
THIS Gentleman was related to the late Bishop of
Waterford.
He died in the Prime of Youth, in the Year 1743. 'Tis a Pity he took such Pains in getting the better of his Constitution; but he succeeded at a Time when he might have made some Figure on the Stage. He had Qualifications sufficient for Improvement, some Learning, a Person amiable, a sweet Voice, and sung not unpleasingly: Notwithstanding, the Neglect of himself depreciated his Merit. He truly made out a Saying of that late great Comedian Mr.
Wilks:
"The Man that drinks a Glass of strong Liquor in a Morning, for every one he swallows, drives a Nail in his Coffin." Many a Genius has been drown'd in Drink. I remember an Author, whose sweet Writings will keep his Memory fragrant, that was so much addicted to that Weakness, that if there were no other Spirits to be come at, he would empty a Lady's
Hungary
Water-bottle; and yet the flowing Numbers of his Pen seem'd as if he had drank no other Liquid but what came from the pure Streams of
Helicon.
I shall end this with
Shakespear
's Reflection from the Mouth of
Cassio in Othello:
O! that Men should put an Enemy in their Mouths to steal away their Brains! O! thou invisible Spirit of Wine! if thou hast no Name to be known by, let us call thee Devil!
He died of a lingering Illness, the 24th of
January
1742-3.
Mrs. ELMY.
HER maiden Name was
Mors.
She was born in
England,
but
when,
or
where,
I know not
Mr.
Elmy,
her Husband, I know, was born at
Norwich;
but where he is now, I believe neither she nor I can tell.
. She has been an Actress about seventeen Years,
began
very young, and was
enter'd
first in a Country Company. She knows what she
does,
as well as what she
says.
She seems to have more Spirits
off
the Stage, in a Chamber, than she has
in
the public Theatre, which is owing to her weak Voice; but she means very well
there.
I do not know her well enough to be any Judge of her Morals; therefore I shall not speak of what I do not
know;
and even this I have gathered more from
common
Fame, than my own particular Knowlege: Therefore I shall not say any more of her, as Fame is a Gossip not always to be believed, as
Hudibras
tells us.
There is a tall long-sided Dame,
But wond'rous light, ycleped
Fame:
Two Trumpets she does sound at once,
But both of clean contrary Tones;
But whether both with the same Wind,
Or one before, or one behind,
We know not—only this can tell,
The one sounds vilely, t'other well:
And therefore vulgar Authors name
The one
Good,
t'other
Evil Fame.
Mr. GEORGE FARQUHAR.
SINCE this Gentleman owes his Birth to this Kingdom, and on the
Irish
Stage commenced Actor, I hope it will not be thought improper to give a short Account of him, which I shall take from his Life, that I collected several Years past, to prefix to his Works. The Materials I received from Mr.
Wilks,
who approved of them before they went to the Publisher.
Mr.
George Farquhar
was born, in the North of
Ireland,
of Parents that held no mean Rank in that Part of the Country; who, having a numerous Issue, could bestow on him no other Fortune than a genteel Education. As those who are bless'd with a poetical Genius always shew some Glimmerings of their Fancy in their Youth; so he, ere he arriv'd at his tenth Year, gave several Specimens of a peculiar Turn that Way. One of his juvenile Productions I shall here mention, in which he discovered a Way of Thinking, as well as an Elegancy of Expression, far beyond his Years.
I took these Lines of Verse from the Mouth of Mr.
Wilks.
The pliant Soul of erring Youth
Is, like soft Wax, or moisten'd Clay,
Apt to receive all heav'nly Truth,
Or yield to Tyrant Ill the Sway.
Shun Evil in your early Years,
And Manhood may to Virtue rise;
But he who, in his Youth, appears
A Fool, in Age will ne'er be wise.
He was educated in the University of
Dublin,
where he acquired a considerable Reputation: He began very early to apply himself to the Stage as an
Actor,
following the Examples of
Lee
and
Otway
with our great
Shakespear,
and with like Success; who, tho' all excellent dramatic Poets, made but indifferent Actors. However, Mr.
Farquhar,
having the Advantage of a very good Person, tho' with a weak Voice, was never repulsed by the Audience; but the following Accident made him determine to leave off the Occupation: Playing the Part of
Guyomar
in the
Indian Emperor,
who is supposed to kill
Vasquez,
one of the
Spanish
Generals; not remembring to change his Sword for a
Foil
Foils
are the Name of those Swords us'd in the
Theatre,
with the Edges ground off, and a blunted Point.
, in the Mock Engagement, he wounded the Person that represented
Vasquez,
tho' (as it fell out) not dangerously; nevertheless, it put an End to his appearing on the Stage as an Actor.
He was very young when he wrote his first Comedy of
Love and a Bottle,
acted at the Theatre Royal in
Drury-lane
1698. He was peculiarly happy in the Choice of his Subjects, which he took Care to adorn with Variety of Characters and Incidents. He lash'd the Vices of the Age, tho' with a merciful Hand. His Plays were wrote in the following Order:
1. Love and a Bottle, 1698.
2. The Constant Couple, 1700. This Piece was play'd 53 Nights the first Season.
3. Sir
Harry Wildair,
the Sequel to the former, 1701. 9 Nights.
4. Inconstant; or, The Way to Win Him; 1703. 11 Nights.
5. Twin Rivals, 1705. 13 Nights.
6. Recruiting Officer, 1707. 15 Nights.
7. The Beaux Stratagem, 1710. 10 Nights.
(All acted at the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-lane.)
His last Comedy he wrote in six Weeks, with a settled Illness all the Time. He perceived the Approaches of Death before he had finish'd the last Act, and (as he had often foretold) died before the Run of the Play was over. It was affirm'd, by some of his near Acquaintance, his unfortunate Marriage shorten'd his Days; for his Wife (by whom he had two Daughters), through the Reputation of a great Fortune, trick'd him into Matrimony. This was chiefly the Fault of her Love, which was so violent, that she was resolv'd to use all Arts to gain him. Tho' some Husbands, in such a Case, would have proved mere Husbands; yet he was so much charm'd with her Love and Understanding, that he liv'd very happy with her. Therefore when I say an unfortunate Marriage, with other Circumstances, conduced to the shortening of his Days; I only mean, that his Fortune, being too slender to support a Family, led him into a great many Cares and Inconveniencies: For I have often heard him say
Mr.
Wilks
's own Words.
,
That it was more Pain to him in imagining that his Family might want a needful Support, than the most violent Death that could be inflicted on him
Mr.
Farquhar
was a Person of infinite Humour, as I have been inform'd, even in his last Indisposition. He died in the Run of the
Stratagem.
Mr.
Wilks
often visited him in his Illness. In one of these Visits, Mr.
Wilks
told Mr.
Farquhar,
that Mrs.
Oldfield
thought he had dealt too freely with the Character of Mrs.
Sullen,
in giving her to
Archer
without a proper Divorce, which was not a Security for her Honour.
To salve that,
reply'd the Author,
I'll get a real Divorce—Marry her myself, and give her my Bond she shall be a real Widow in less than a Fortnight.
While Mr.
Farquhar
was in
Trinity
College,
Dublin,
he sent to a Gentleman to borrow
Burnet
's
History of the Reformation;
but the Gentleman sent him Word he never lent any Book out of his Chamber; but, if he would come there, he should make use of it as long as he pleas'd. A little While after, the Owner of the Book sent to borrow Mr.
Farquhar
's Bellows; he return'd him the Compliment—
I never lend my Bellows out of my own Chamber; but if he pleas'd to come there, be should make use of them as long as he would.
When he expir'd, Mr.
Wilks
took Care to bury him decently in
St. Martin in the Fields.
Among his Papers he found this short Note:
Dear Bob,
I have not any thing to leave thee to perpetuate my Memory, but two helpless Girls; look upon them sometimes, and think of him that was, to the last Moments of his Life, Thine,
G. FARQUHAR."
Even the two last Lines he ever wrote, seem'd to be playing with Words.
Death
now appears to seize my latest Breath;
But all my Miseries will end in
Death.
Mr.
Farquhar
attempted to play the Part of Sir
Harry Wildair
for his own Benefit, as I am inform'd from a Gentleman that saw him in this Kingdom, which answer'd his Design, in gaining a crouded Audience; but he executed the Part so lamely, as an Actor, that his Friends were asham'd for him. Thus we see a
good
Poet may make but an
indifferent
Actor.
.
The Mind diseas'd strikes Poison to the Heart,
And baffles all the best Physician's Art.
Mr. FOOTE.
AS I never had the Fortune to be present at this Gentleman's public Performance, I cannot pretend to be a competent Judge of his Merit; tho', I must own, I have heard him launch out into
Mimicry,
which might perhaps give Pleasure to others, but, I must own, very little to me.
I remember an Instance of this kind of
Satire
in my Youth, that gave Satisfaction to some light Hearts, but greater Disgust to the more judicious Sort of the Audience.
Mr.
George Powell,
a reputable Actor, with many Excellencies, gave out, that he would perform the Part of Sir
John Falstaff
in the Manner of that very excellent
English Roscius,
Mr.
Betterton.
He certainly hit his Manner, and Tone of Voice; yet, to make the Picture more like, he mimick'd the Infirmities of Distemper, old Age, and the afflicting Pains of the Gout, which that great Man was often seiz'd with. Certainly
Mimicry
is a Gift from Nature, and laudable, if made use of like the antient
Mimes,
who could dumbly describe every Passion of the Mind, and tell a
Tale
without a
Tongue:
But to mimic the Infirmities of Nature, may well be term'd Incivility, Barbarity, and Inhumanity.
I remember
D'Urfey,
the late
Lyric
Poet, stuttered extremely when in a Passion, tho' he could speak an Oration, read a Scene in a Play, or sing any of his own Songs or Dialogues, without the least Hesitation. He came one Morning to the Rehearsal a little disturbed about a depending Benefit Play, and ask'd, in a Passion,
Wh, wh, where wa, wa, was M, M, Mr.
Wi, Wilks? The Drole
Penkethman
answered,
H, h, he d, d, did n, n, not kn, kn, know.
But the choleric Poet broke his Head for his Joke, and it was with great Difficulty the Bard was appeased.
Mimicry,
as it now stands with us, is like a Statue, larger than the Life, made for a certain Height and Distance; while upon the Level with you, its coarse Proportion seems monstrous, and overdone. Many excellent Comedians have had this natural Talent. Mr.
Rymer,
that great Critic, tells us, that Mr.
Mountford
was so excellently gifted that Way (if we may call it Excellence), that when he was Train-bearer to the late Chancellor
Jefferies,
in the Reign of King
James
the Second, at an Entertainment for the most eminent Lawyers, his Master ordered him to come before him, and plead a feigned Cause, which he perform'd with great Eloquence; and in his Pleadings, to the Admiration of all present, assum'd the Manner and Voice of several of the best Pleaders then at the
Bar,
even some of those that were present at the Entertainment. As I said before, every thing of this kind must be over-done, to make it the more ridiculous; and Actors of great Merit,
thus
mimick'd, are liable to some little Disgrace, which is neither Justice nor Good-nature. I have seen Faces painted in a Scene of a Multitude, which is generally used in
Drury lane
Theatre at the Coronation of
Anna Bullen,
that make most ridiculous Figures, so like to be known; and yet the Persons they represent have nothing particularly faulty in their Countenance or Figures. But the Painter was a merry
Italian
Wag, and did it to shew his exuberant Fancy.
But to return to Mr.
Foote.
He is a Gentleman of a good Family, and seems to have some Claim to the Estate of the
Goodieres.
One of that Family was, not many Years past, murdered by his own Brother at
Bristol.
I believe he has
Merit,
or a
Wou'd-be-Wit
would not have publish'd the following Lines in the News-papers: For, I have observed, those that have Merit, are generally liable to bespattering Defamation. However, here are the Lines.
On a Pseudo-Player.
THOU Mimic of
Cibber
—of
Garrick
thou Ape!
Thou Fop in
Othello
! thou Cypher in Shape!
Thou Trifle in Person! thou Puppet in Voice!
Thou Farce of a Player! thou Rattle for Boys!
Thou Mongrel! thou dirty-face Harlequin Thing!
Thou Puff of bad Paste! thou Ginger-breadKing!
Was a
Quin,
or
Delane,
the Boast of our Stage,
Set up as fit Marks for thy Envy, or Rage?
Was a
Quin,
or
Delane,
who excel in their Art,
To be ap'd by a Cobler, who bungles his Part?
Thou Mummer in Action! thou Coffee-house Jester!
Thou Mimic
sans
Sense! Mock Hero in Gesture!
Can the Squeak of a Puppet present us a
Quin?
Or a Pigmy, or Dwarf, shew a Giant's Design?
Shall Deficience, unpunish'd, at Excellence rail?
Or a Sprat; without Ridicule, mimic a Whale?
Can a
Foot
represent us the Length of a
Yard?
Where, then, shall such Insolence meet its Reward?
Contempt were the best, like the Mastiff that feels,
With superior Derision, the Cur at his Heels—
O
Ireland
! too prone to encourage new Toys!
In Trinkets, and Novelty, fickle as Boys!
O
Dublin
! alas! to a Proverb well known,
To receive what is foreign, yet scoff at thy own;
Learn truly to judge 'twixt a F—t and a Tune:
Applaud the good Player—but damn the Buffoon!
This Poet is too passionate to be in the Right; neither would I have inserted it, if I had not received it inclosed with the following
Laconic
Epistle.
SIR,
I Know what you are about; insert the inclos'd in its proper Place, or you will neither do yourself, or your Readers, Justice. If you fail, you shall hear of it—
Bob!
Notwithstanding this angry Author, I dare swear it will not do the Gentleman any Prejudice: For Passion is the worst Persuader in the World. For, as the Poet says,
Truth is too naked, of all Art bereav'd:
Since the World will—why—let them be deceiv'd.
Mrs. FURNIVAL.
I Cannot tell when Mrs.
Furnival
first commenced Actress; but I know her Reputation for a Stage-performer was so great, that a Person of high Birth and Station, who had seen her act several capital Parts at the Theatre in
York,
prevail'd on the Manager of
Drury-lane
to send for her in the Year 1737. Accordingly, I received a Commission for that Purpose, which she approved of. The first Part she acted, at her Arrival in
London,
was that of the
Scornful Lady,
in a Comedy of
Beaumont
and
Fletcher
's that bears the Title. I own it was a Character of my own choosing, and for no other Reason, but that the Play had slept since the Death of the inimitable Mrs.
Oldfield.
The Success did not intirely answer the Meaning of my Intention, tho' she acquitted herself so well, that there was a very good Actress in Prospect. But the Parts in Tragedy were so taken up, that her Talent that Way was never once try'd in the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-lane:
Therefore, by the Advice of the same worthy Gentleman, that was the Cause of her leaving
York
for
London,
she left
London
for
Dublin,
where her Merit was so conspicuous, that her Loss is much regretted. She is once more returned to
England,
I believe without any other Advice but her own; yet, I fear, she will be remember'd here, till a better
Alicia
in
Jane
Shore,
Lady
Macbeth, Hermione
in the
Distress'd Mother,
or
Zara
in the
Mourning Bride,
with many other Parts, rises up to outdo her.
But what, at first, gives infinite Delight,
When often seen, hangs heavy on the Sight.
DAVID GARRICK,
Esq
THIS complete Actor was born, in
Staffordshire,
of an antient Family in that County; had a genteel Education, and was, by his Father, design'd for the Law. I doubt not, from his good Sense and Affability, if he had continued in that honourable Society in
Lincoln's-Inn,
but he might have made a considerable Figure at the Bar, and, by his Elocution, walk'd in the foremost Rank of eminent Orators.
His Genius led him early to study Nature, and leave the crabbed Tracts of the Law. His facetious good Humour gained him Entrance behind the Scenes, two or three Years, in
Drury-lane,
before he commenced Actor; where his excellent Understanding could profit by the Faults of others, mend them, and improve the Beauties.
In the Year 1740. he set out, in full Lustre, at the Theatre in
Goodman's-Fields,
with the Part of
Richard
the Third; and, by the Force of Attraction, drew even the Court to the farthest Suburbs of
London.
After making that remote Part of the Town as familiar to Courtiers and Quality, as
Wapping
to Sailors; he came, with a Blaze of Light, to
Drury-lane;
where he began with an Act of Charity worthy of his Humanity and Goodness, by assisting the Widow of Mr.
Harper
with a Sum, that, by good Management, will make her Circumstances easy the rest of her Life. She was at
Kilkenny,
the Place of her Birth, two Summers ago, where I received this Account from her own Mouth. The Part he perform'd was
Chamont,
in the
Orphan.
When this Gentleman was in this Kingdom last, I was unfortunately seized by a stubborn Indisposition, and his Good-nature prevailed upon the eminent Dr.
Barry
to give me his Assistance: But what need I repeat, to those that are not blind, that the Sun shines in Summer? I shall end with two Copies of Verses that were printed, at his first Arrival, in the News-papers, at that Time.
On Mr. GARRICK.
Cur in Theatrum,
Cato
severe, venisti?
An ideo tantum veneras, ut exires?
MART.
IN
Roman
Days, once,
Cato
the severe,
With awful Brow, went to the Theatre:
But, O! instead of manly Fire, and Rage,
And all the true Pathetic of the Stage,
He saw, he heard, the Rant, the Droll, the Stare;
Saw Nature, and the Passions, murder'd there—
Saw, and retir'd—But, shou'd he now revive,
And see glad Nature in her
Garrick
live,
He'd laugh at
Bayes,
and weep with injur'd
Lear,
Curse Tyrant
Richard,
but applaud the Player!
By Joy, Rage, Pity, all the Passions mov'd,
Garrick wou'd well by
Cato
be approv'd:
The Wise, the Virtuous
Cato,
wou'd forbear
His rigid Censures, and in Raptures swear,
That by some Pow'r Divine the Stage was trod,
And, in the matchless Actor, own the God.
This great Actor is Author of Three Dramatic Pieces, the
Lying Valet, Miss in her Teens,
and
Lethe;
as also several well-wrote Prologues, Epilogues, Songs, and Poems of a peculiar Turn of Wit. I shall take Leave to insert one Song, as a Specimen.
To SYLVIA.
IF Truth can fix thy wav'ring Heart,
Let
Damon
urge his Claim;
He feels the Passion void of Art,
The pure, and constant Flame.
Tho' sighing Swains their Torments tell,
Their sensual Love contemn:
They only prize the beauteous Shell,
But slight the inward Gem.
Possession cures the wounded Heart,
Destroys the transient Fire;
But when the
Mind
receives the Dart,
Enjoyment whets Desire.
Your Charms each slavish Sense controul,
A Tyrant's short-liv'd Reign;
But milder Reason rules the Soul,
Nor Time can break the Chain.
By Age your Beauties will decay,
Your Mind improves with Years;
And, when the Blossoms fade away,
The rip'ning Fruit appears.
May Heav'n and
Sylvia
grant my Suit,
And bless each future Hour,
That
Damon,
who can taste the Fruit,
May gather ev'ry Flow'r!
THOMAS GRIFFITH,
Esq
IS descended from an antient Family in
Wales.
His Parents came to settle in
Dublin,
where this Son was born in the Year 1680. He was put 'Prentice to a Mathematical Instrument-maker; but a lively-spirited Genius made him cast his Thoughts towards the Theatre, when he saw a young Actress that had sufficient Charms to engage his Heart. The Passion of Love is not to be controuled in Youth. He marry'd her before he had serv'd a Third Part of his Time, quitting his Mathematical Master, and bent his Thoughts intirely to the Drama. His Talent led him to Comedy, of the merry Cast, in which he gave great Pleasure to the Audience.
His Wit and facetious Humour gained him many Friends, of the best Sort, and superior Rank. In the Year 1710. the late Lord
Southwell
gave him a Post in the Revenue, which he enjoyed till Death, which fell out in
January
24. 1743-4. in his grand Climacteric, two Days before the Night of his Benefit; which was performed for the Widow, his second Wife, who was Daughter to the Rev. Mr.
Foxcroft,
of
Portarlington
in the
Queen's County,
a Gentlewoman of Merit and Virtue.
Mr.
Griffith
was not only a good Actor, but a pleasing Poet, in what he attempted: His Person was well made, tho' low in Stature. I have seen a Bill of mock
Alexander
runs thus:
The Part of
Alexander the Great
to be perform'd by
little Griffith.
He was an excellent Companion, and told a Story with a peculiar Grace; and would often tell little Histories of
himself,
even in Ridicule of
himself.
I shall mention one I had from his own Mouth.
After his commencing Actor, he contracted a Friendship with Mr.
Wilks;
which Chain remained unbroke till the Death of that excellent Comedian. Tho' Mr.
Griffith
was very young, Mr.
Wilks
took him with him to
London,
and had him enter'd for that Season at a small Salary. The
Indian Emperor
being ordered on a sudden to be play'd, the Part of
Pizarro,
a
Spaniard,
was wanting, which Mr.
Griffith
procur'd, with some Difficulty. Mr.
Betterton
being a little indisposed, would not venture out to Rehearsal, for Fear of increasing his Indisposition, to the Disappointment of the Audience, who had not seen our young Stripling rehearse. But, when he came ready, at the Entrance, his Ears were pierc'd with a Voice not familiar to him: He cast his Eyes upon the Stage, where he beheld the diminutive
Pizarro,
with a Truncheon as long as himself (his own Words). He steps up to
Downs
the Prompter, and cry'd,
Zounds,
Downs!
what sucking Scaramouch have you sent on there? Sir,
reply'd
Downs, He's good enough for a
Spaniard;
the Part is small. Betterton
return'd,
If he had made his Eye-brows his Whiskers, and each Whisker a Line, the Part would have been two Lines too much for such a Monkey in Buskins.
Poor
Griffith
stood on the Stage, near the Door, and heard every Syllable of the short Dialogue, and by his Fears, knew who was meant by it; but, happy for him, he had no more to speak that Scene. When the first Act was over (by the Advice of
Downs)
he went to make his Excuse, with—
Indeed, Sir, I had not taken the Part, but there was only I alone out of the Play. I! I
! (reply'd
Betterton,
with a Smile)
Thou art but the Tittle of an I. Griffith
seeing him in no ill Humour, told him,
Indians
ought to be the best Figures on the Stage, as Nature had made them.
Very like,
reply'd
Betterton; but it would be a double Death to an
Indian
Cobler to be conquer'd by such a Weazle of a
Spaniard
as thou art! And, after this Night, let me never see a Truncheon in thy Hand again, unless to stir the Fire.
This Story, as I said before, was of his own telling. However, he took his Advice, laid aside the
Buskin,
and stuck to the
Sock,
in which he made a Figure equal to most of his Cotemporaries.
Our Genius flutters with the Plumes of Youth,
But Observation wings to steddy Truth.
Mr. HENRY GIFFARD.
THIS Gentleman is descended from an antient Family, originally in
Buckinghamshire.
His Father had a numerous Issue, he being the last of Eight Sons. He was born in
London,
in 1699. In the Year 1716. he was made a Clerk to the
South-Sea
Company; in which Post he remained Three Years. But having a strong Propensity to the Stage, he first appeared in Public on the Theatre in
Bath,
in 1719. and, in two Years Probation, he made such a Progress, that the Manager of
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields
Theatre invited him to join his Company, where he continued two Years more: From thence he went to try his Fortune in
Ireland,
where his Merit soon brought him into the Management.
During his Stay there, he marry'd the Daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Lydal,
Persons that made very good Figures in the Theatre. This Gentlewoman died in Child-bed very young, leaving behind her one Son, born in his Father's House on the
North-Strand,
who is now an Actor in this Kingdom. Some Years after Mr.
Giffard
marry'd a second Wife, who is now alive. She has an amiable Person, and is a well-esteemed Actress, both in Tragedy and Comedy; born, if am not misinformed by her Mother, the Widow
Lydal,
in the Year 1711.
Mr.
Giffard
and Spouse, if I mistake not, came over to
England
1730. where they supported a Company of Comedians, then under the Management of Mr.
Odell,
now Deputy-Licenser of Plays under the Lord Chamberlain his Grace the Duke of
Grafton.
Mr.
Odell,
from not understanding the Management of a Company (as, indeed, how should any one, that is not, in some sort, brought up to that Knowlege?) soon left it to Mr.
Giffard
that did; who, in the Year 1733. caused to be built an intire, new, beautiful, convenient Theatre, by the same Architect with that of
Covent-Garden;
where Dramatic Pieces were performed with the utmost Elegance and Propriety. Some Years after he was obliged to quit that Theatre (I may say by Oppression), and occupy'd the vacant Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields:
But his Success did not answer his Merit. From thence he transplanted himself into the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-Lane.
Merit will sometimes fail of due Regard,
And Virtue's Self must be its own Reward.
Mr. BENJAMIN HUSBAND,
WAS born in
Pembrokeshire, January
1672. His Ancestors were an antient and reputable Family, long seated in that County. He fell in Love with the Tragic Muse very young, but dangled after the Drama full two Years, sighing, at great Expence, before he was suffered to declare his Passion publicly. Yet, certainly he possessed most of the Requisites that compound a good Actor, to assure Success. But the Managers of those Theatrical Days were very cautious in their Proceedings; no Persons were fit for
their
Stages, without a visible Appearance, at least, of not displeasing. And yet it was with some Difficulty he gained Permission to personate Sir
Walter Ralegh
in the
Earl of Essex;
but he came off so well, that, the following Pay-Day, he received a Week's Salary, the usual Stipend of young Actors (Ten Shillings a Week); but, unluckily, the Death of good Queen
Mary
put a Stop to their Acting for near Six Months. However, when Permission was given to open the Theatres again, Mr.
Husband
soon gained better Parts, and a larger Salary.
In the Year 1696. Mr.
Dogget
This truly great Comedian was born in
Castle-street, Dublin
(a Circumstance overlook'd by the
Laureat).
He left his Occupation, as an Actor, several Years before his Death; and, in his Will, bequeathed to
Watermens-Hall
a Sum for ever, sufficient to buy a Coat and Silver Badge, to be row'd for on the
Thames
by 'Prentices every Year, that have fulfilled their Indentures. A humorous Poet wrote the following Lines upon the Occasion on a Glass Window at
Lambeth,
the First of
August
1736.
Tom Dogget,
the greatest sly Drole in his Parts,
In Acting, was certain a Master of Arts,
A Monument left—no Herald is fuller,
His Praise is sung yearly by many a
Sculler:
Ten thousand Years hence, if the World lasts so long,
Tom Dogget
will still be the Theme of their
Song.
Old Noll,
with great
Lewis
and
Bourbon,
forgot,
And numberless Kings in Oblivion shall rot.
, being then in
Ireland,
recommended Mr.
Husband
to Mr.
Ashbury,
as a very promising young Actor, and fit for his Purpose. He set out from
London
with Mr.
Trefusis
I have mentioned
Jo Trefusis
before, but shall add something here which I have learn'd from Mr.
Husband. Jo
was reputed the natural Son of
Oliver Cromwell;
but, I must own, he did not seem to have any Resemblance of Features with his Father, if we may judge by the Pictures and Gravings of the Protector:
Jo
had a long Chin, and naturally a most consummate foolish Face, by Nature formed for suitable Characters; yet a Person of infinite Humour, and shrewd Conceits; with a particular Tone of Voice and Manner, that gave a double Satisfaction to what he said: Adhering strictly to Honesty, without Guile or Falshood; which, I suppose, he inherited from his Mother; he acquired the Appellative, from all that knew him, of
Honest Jo
! A Character he bore with Justice.
Jo,
by the following Account of himself, must have been very young on the Stage. He entered a Volunteer on board the Ship where the Duke of
York
commanded in the Chanel, in that memorable Sea-Engagement with the
Dutch
Fleet, commanded (I think) by
Van Tromp,
in the Year 1673. When the Preparations were making for the Battle,
Jo,
tho' a Volunteer, confess'd, Fear began to invade him; but, when the Man at the Topmast Head cry'd, a
Sail
! then two
Sail
! and after,
Zounds, a whole Wood! Jo
's Terrors augmented: But his Fears came to the full Height, when a Sailor ask'd him, If he had not performed on the Stage?
Jo
reply'd in the Affirmative
Why then
(reply'd the blunt Tarr)
To-morrow, if you are not kill'd the first Broadside, by G—d you will see the deepest and bloodiest Tragedy you ever saw in your Life.
Jo
was so inimitable in dancing the Clown, that General
Ingoldsby
was so well pleased, that he sent him Five Guineas from the Box where he sat.
Jo
dressed himself next Day, and went to the Castle to return Thanks. The General was hard to be persuaded it was the same Person; but
Jo
soon convinc'd him, by saying,
Ise the very Mon, an't please your Ex-cell-en-cey
and, at the same time, twirling his Hat, as he did in the Dance, with his consummate foolish Face and Scrape
Nay, now I am convinced,
reply'd the General (laughing),
and thou shalt not show such a Face for nothing here
—So gave
Jo
Five Guineas more; which so well please him, that he paid his Compliments in his aukward clownish Manner, and, as
Shakespear
says,
Set the Table on a Roar.
So Exit
Jo.
, and embarked for
Ireland;
and was at Sea in that violent Storm when Brigadier
Fitzgerald
was cast away in the Packet-Boat, near
Hoath,
where every Souperished but the Master of the Vessel. However, after much Difficulty, and great Danger he landed safe in
Dublin.
Mr.
Husband
continued on the Stage with great Reputation as an Actor, and a Gentleman of exact Conduct An Example truly worthy imitating.
He afterwards passed and repassed from
England
to
Ireland
several Times, till, in the Year 1713. he was settled in this Kingdom for (I believe) the remaining Part of his Days fix'd in the Esteem of all that know him.
The Lees of Life with Chearfulness he wears,
And from an upright Mind no Death he fears.
Mr. CHARLES HULET.
THIS Person performed one Season on the
Dublin
Stage. He was born in the Year 1701. and was by his Father put 'Prentice to a Bookseller. By reading of Plays in his Master's Shop, he us'd to repeat Speeches in the Kitchen, in the Evening, to the Destruction of many a Chair, which he substituted in the Room of real Persons in his Drama. One Night, as he was repeating the Part of
Alexander,
with his wooden Representative of
Clytus
(an old Elbow-Chair), and coming to the Speech where the old General is to be kill'd, this young mock
Alexander
snatch'd a
Poker
instead of a
Javelin,
and threw it with such Strength against poor
Clytus,
that the Chair was kill'd upon the Spot, and lay mangled on the Floor. The Death of
Clytus
made a monstrous Noise, which disturbed the Master in the Parlour, who called out to know the Reason; and was answered by the Cook below,
Nothing, Sir, but that
Alexander
has kill'd
Clytus.
His Master, Mr.
Edmund Curll
Mr.
Curll
was a Person of extraordinary Talents, very pleasing in Conversation, and could extract Gold from Dirt. He had the Art of forming a Title to a Book beyond the rest of the
Craft,
or even the Author themselves. I have forgot how he came to stumble over Mr.
Pope;
for Mr.
Curll
was a little purblind, and lost his Sight some Years before his Death. But Mr
Pope
in Revenge invited him to a Tavern, under the Colour of Friendship: Sack being a favourite Liquor with Mr.
Curll,
this great Poet had a Draught prepares in an antimonial Cup, which the unsuspecting Book seller chearfully drank off to the Health of his good Friend Mr.
Pope.
But the Operation began to work before he could reach his own House, with such violen Motions, that the intended
Farce
was near ending in the
Tragedy
of Mr.
Edmund Curll.
The next Day, to complete his Revenge, Mr.
Pope
published a humourous Account of the Murder of Mr.
Curll
by Poison. By this Poet and Bookseller, to their Deaths, declared fe War against each other; and tho' the latter might b
put to his Shifts sometimes, yet he often found Meat to
gall his Kibe. Pope,
in his
Dunciad,
had made
Cur
a Demi-hero, and has filthily bedaub'd him with Honours; but enrag'd Wit, like a Wasp disturb'd, w
fly at harmless Passengers, and leave their poisoned Sting behind.
(a Person well noted in
London
from Mr.
Pope'
commencing Physician), finding his Inclination so strong for the Stage, agreed to let him try his Fortune there. He had a most extraordinary melodious Voice, strong, and clear and in the Part of
Macheath,
in the
Beggar' Opera,
he was allow'd to excel the Original Then he was an excellent
Mimic,
if Excellency may be join'd to
Mimicry.
He took a little too much Pride in the Firmness of his Voice; for he had an odd Custom of stealing unperceiv'd upon a Person, and, with a
Hem!
in his Ear, deafen him for some time, with the Strength and Loudness of his Voice. Yet this customary Folly (for Folly it may be justly call'd) prov'd his Fate; for the last
Hem!
he gave broke a Blood-Vessel, which was the Cause of his Death in Twenty-four Hours after. He was a great Benefactor to the
Malt-Tax,
which, in my Opinion, was the Cause of that Mountain of Flesh he was loaded with.
At the Time of his Death, he was under Mr.
Henry Giffard,
at the Theatre in
Goodman's-Fields.
He was bury'd at the Charge of that Gentleman, in
St. Mary
's Church,
White-chapel,
in the 35th Year of his Age. We shall end with Mr.
Hulet
in Mr.
Giffard
's own Words.
Mr.
Charles Hulet
was endowed with great Abilities for a Player; but laboured under the Disadvantage of a Person rather too corpulent for the
Hero
or the
Lover;
but his Port well became
Henry
the Eighth,
Falstaff,
&c. and many other Characters, both
Tragedy
and
Comedy,
in which he would have been equally excellent, had his Application and Figure been proportionable to his Qualifications; which had he duly cultivated, he would have become a very considerable Performer.
What Machines are we poor Mortals! that a Person should be kill'd with a
Hem
!
As in a Watch, if the least Engine flies,
The Work is stopp'd, and the whole Movement dies.
Mr. BENJAMIN JOHNSON,
COmmonly called
Ben Johnson,
was bre
a Painter, where his Employment led him to paint, under his Master, the Scenes for the Stage; but he took more Pleasure in hearing the Actors rehearse, than in his Pencil or Colours; and, as he us'd to say in his merry Mood,
left the
Saint
's
St.
Luke
was a Painter, and those that follow that Art have chosen him for their Patron; and make his Day a Time of Mirth and Jollity.
Occupation to take that of a Sinner.
He arrived to as great a Perfection in Acting, as his great Namesake did in Poetry. He seemed to be proud to wear that eminent Poet's double Name, being more particularly great in all that Author's Plays that were usually performed,
viz. Wasp
in the Play of
Bartholomew-Fair, Corbaccio
in the
Fox, Morose
in the
Silent Woman,
and
Ananias
in the
Alchymist.
He was but once in this Kingdom, about fifty Years ago, in the Summer Season. I have heard him often give most extravagant Praises to one
Baker,
a Master-Paver in
Dublin,
for excelling in Sir
John Falstaff,
the
Spanish Fryar,
Sir
Epicure Mammon
in the
Alchymist,
and many other Parts. He would be studying in the Streets, while he would be overlooking his Men at their Work. One Day two of his Men, that were newly come under their Master, and were Strangers to his Manner, observing his Countenance, Motions, Gestures, and talking to himself, imagined their Master was mad.
Baker,
seeing his Men neglect their Work to gaze at him, bid them, in a hasty Manner,
mind their Business
! The Country-Fellows (for they but lately came from
Chester
) went to work again, but still with an Eye upon their Master. The Part was Sir
John Falstaff
that
Baker
was rehearsing; and, when he came to the Fifth Act, where the humourous Knight is supposed to see Sir
Walter Blunt
lie dead upon the Stage—He gives a Look on one of his new Pavers, and muttered loud enough to be heard, with Eyes fix'd upon him,—
Who have we here?—Sir
Walter Blunt!—
There's Honour for you.
The Fellow, that was stooping, rose on the Instant, clapping hold of his Master—
Wauns! Ise blunt enough to take care of you, Ise warrant you
! So, with the Help of his Companion, they bound Mr.
Baker
's Hands and Feet, assisted by other People, no wiser than themselves; and, notwithstanding their Master's Noise and Struggle, they carried him home in that Condition, with a great Mob at their Heels. Mr.
Johnson
informed me, when he returned to
England,
he gave Mr.
Betterton
the Manner of
Baker
's playing
Falstaff;
which that great Actor not only approv'd of, but imitated; and allowed the Manner was better than his own. Mr.
Husband
gave me much the same Account of this Mr.
Baker.
Mr.
Johnson
played to the last Year of his Life, with the same standard Reputation; and died in
August
1742. in the 77th Year of his Age.
He fell like Autumn Fruit, that mellow'd long,
Even wonder'd at, because he dropt no sooner.
OEDIPUS.
Miss J. JONES.
THE Father of this young Gentlewoman was born in
Wales,
a Branch of an antient and reputable Family in that Country; but an unforeseen Misfortune falling upon him, he made the Stage his Refuge, and governed a Country Company many Years, with Judgment, Honesty, and Reputation. Miss
Jones,
more by the Will of her Father than her own Inclinations, was thrust on the Stage a mere Infant, and now makes a very good Figure there: But her Virtue, and sober discreet Behaviour, may be a Pattern for Imitation; therefore I shall say no more, but conclude, that she deserves a better Fate.
Our Guardian Angel is fair Innocence,
And virtuous Actions are our best Defence.
Mr. THEOPHILUS KEEN.
I Mention this Gentleman, as receiving Instructions from the late
Joseph Ashbury,
Esq
Mr.
Keen
was an excellent Scholar, and a very good Actor: But, having some Share in the Government of the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
under Mr.
Rich,
either for the Want of Performers, or, perhaps, overlooking his Talents (a Fault sometimes very good Actors, of both Sexes, are guilty of), he stood for Parts something out of his Road, as
Oroonoko, Earl of Essex, Edgar
in
King Lear;
when, in the Part of
Gloster,
in the same Play, and others of that Cast, no Actor of his Time could excel him. Altho' a very good Figure and Voice, his Person wanted Elegance for the soft Characters.
It was reported, the ill Success of the Theatre, when he was Sharer in Profit and Loss, broke his Heart. He died in the Year 1719 and was bury'd in the Body of the Church of
St. Clement-Danes,
by a voluntary Subscription from both Houses. It was what we term in
England
a Walking Funeral; and there were upwards of Two hundred Persons in deep Mourning. His Life was published by Mr.
Savage,
illegitimate Son to the Earl of
Rivers.
Several
Wou'd-be Wits
wrote Copies of Verses upon his Death: One I remember ending with this Line:
And Death was found too
Sharp
for
Keen.
Mr. LAURENCE KENNEDY.
THIS Gentleman is a Native of
Ireland,
born in
Dublin.
His good Figure, agreeable Voice, and genteel easy Carriage, render him a pleasing Actor; and we may expect from such Qualifications, that Time may bring him to great Perfection. All Arts are learned by Time, Observation, and Industry; and, when Choice guides Youth in any Occupation, Nature seems to lead the Way.
But many blunder on in various Ways;
Some ill succeed, while others merit Praise.
Mr. JOHN LEIGH,
I Think, was born in
Ireland.
He commenced Actor, however, on the
Irish
Theatre. He was a Person of some Education, with a particular amiable Form, and genteel Address, insomuch that he gained the Appellative of
Handsome Leigh.
A good Figure was the chief Advantage in the Parts he perform'd. He was call'd from this Kingdom, to fill up the Troop of Comedians rais'd to garison the New Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
in the Year 1714. at its first Opening; where he set forth the First Night in
Captain Plume,
in the
Recruiting Officer;
which occasioned the following Lines to be wrote on the Back of one of their Bills:
'Tis right to raise Recruits; for, faith, they're wanted;
For not one acting Soldier's here, 'tis granted.
Mr.
Leigh,
I believe, might have been in the good Graces of the Fair-Sex,
if his Taste had led him that Way.
He was addicted to Poetry, and produced a Comedy call'd
Kensington-Gardens,
acted at the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields
in the Year 1720. which walk'd consumptively six Nights, and then expir'd. He also trimm'd up a Farce call'd,
Hob's Wedding,
taken from a Comedy call'd,
The Country Wake,
written by that perfect Comedian Mr.
Thomas Dogget.
He has wrote several humourous Songs. Here follows a Sample, which as it is a Theatrical Anecdote, will require a little Illustration by way of Notes.
To the Tune of,
Thomas I cannot.
MY scandalous Neighbours of
Portugal-street
Portugal-street,
where the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields
is built.
,
Come listen awhile to my Ditty;
I'll sing you a Song, tho' my Voice be not sweet,
And that you will say is a Pity:
As merry a Sonnet as Times can afford,
Of
Egleton
Mr.
Egleton,
commonly call'd Baron
Egleton,
for taking that Title upon him in
France,
where he squandered away a small Patrimony. His Person was perfectly genteel, and a very pleasing Actor; but through a wild Road of Life, he finish'd his Journey in the 29th Year of his Age.
, Walker
b Mr.
Walker
(the original
Macheath). Vide
the Account of his Life.
, Jack Hall
Mr.
John Hall,
a Sharer in old
Smock alley
Theatre above thirty Years ago. He went from hence with Mr.
Leigh
to the New Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields.
He was something too corpulent, and a Thickness of Speech that might be mimic'd with Ease, which adds some Humour to this
Ballad.
He understood
Music,
and was once a
Dancing-Master,
and the original
Lockit
in the
Beggar's Opera.
,
and my
Lord
My
Lord,
a young Nobleman weak in Intellects (Title and Estates do not always inherit Wisdom)
;
If you doubt of the Truth, to confirm ev'ry Word,
I'll call for a Witness
—Will Thomas! Will Thomas
A Waiter at a Coffee-house in
Portugal-street,
overagainst the Stage-Door; a Person in Understanding pretty near upon a Par with my
Lord.
!
I'll call for a Witness—
Will Thomas
!
II.
First,
Egleton
coax'd the Fool over the Way
The young
Lord.,
With Sentences sweeter than Honey;
A Toad in a Hole
A Cant Word for any bak'd Meat with a Pudding.
was their Dinner that Day,
And my Noodle he lent them his Money.
What tho' I have got by him many a Crown?
What I ne'er can forgive him is, that he came down
Five Guineas the Night ere he went out of Town.
Is this true, or no?—O yes! says
Will Thomas,
O yes, &c.
III.
Tom Walker,
his Creditors meaning to chouse,
Like an honest good-natur'd young Fellow,
Resolv'd all the Summer to stay in the House,
And rehearse by himself
Massianello
Massianello,
a Play, or rather two Plays, on the Rebellion of
Naples,
by
Thomas Anello,
a Fisherman of that City, who was near subverting the Government, having the whole Power and Command in his Hands for several Days; but plunging himself into Wine instead of his Element of Water, he at last ended his Life and mock Reign in a Ditch. Mr.
Walker
took some Pains that Summer to contract the two Plays into one, which was perform'd the following Winter, with some Success. The two Plays were originally written by Mr.
Thomas Durfey.
.
As soon as he heard of the
Baron
's Success
Mr.
Egleton
receiv'd the five Guineas from the
Lord.
,
He stript off his Night-gown, and put on his Dress,
And cry'd, D—mn my B—d! I will strike for no less;
So he call'd o'er the Hatch
The
Hatch
of the Stage-door: The Bounds of those Theatrical Princes, that might receive four Pounds a Week, and by their Industry make Shift to spend six. A great Virtue in some
Theatrical
Gentry.
for
Will Thomas! Will Thomas
!
So he call'd, &c.
IV.
Go tell my young
Lord,
says this modest young Man,
I beg he'd invite me to Dinner;
I'll be as diverting as ever I can,
I will by the Faith of a Sinner!
I mimic all Actors, the worst and the best,
I'll sing him a Song, I'll crack him a Jest,
I'll make him Act better than
Henley
the Priest
Orator
Henley,
who was taught to speak by Mr.
Walker.
I'll tell him so, Sir, says
Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
I'll tell him so, &c.
V.
Jack Hall,
who was then just awaken'd from Sleep,
Said (turning about to
Grace Moffet
Grace Moffet,
Daughter to Mr.
Hall
s Second Wife, that kept the
Bell
and
Dragon
in
Portugal-street.
),
'Twou'd vex any Dog to see Pudding thus creep,
And not have a Share of the Profit:
If you have not, says
Grace,
you're not Mr.
Hall
!
And if I have not, it shall cost me a Fall;
For half a Loaf's better than no Bread at all;
And so I'll call out for
Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
And so, &c.
VI.
Go tell my young
Lord,
I can teach him to Dance,
Altho' I'm no very great Talker;
I'll shew him good Manners just landed from
France,
That's more than he'll learn from
Tom Walker
!
I Sing, and I Act, I Dance, and I Fence;
I am a rare Judge of—good Eating—and Sense—
And then—as for
English
—I understand
French.
I'll tell him so, Sir, says
Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
I'll tell him so, &c.
VII.
The
Peer
was just going his Purse-strings to draw,
In order to lend them his Money—
As soon as his forward Good-nature I saw
As soon,
&c. This Ballad was to be supposed to be made by the Woman that kept the Coffee-house.
,
I cry'd out, My
Lord
! fie upon you!
To us you're as hard as a
Turk,
or a
Jew;
If you part with your Money, pay where it is due;
Poor
Betty
's
Betty,
Maid to the Coffee-woman, that could serve the Peer, and the Porter.
with Child, and it may be by you.
Here's
Fun
for us all! cry'd
Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
Here's
Fun, &c.
VIII.
When his Lordship heard this, away down he ran,
And drove away strait to the
Devil
The Devil Tavern,
Temple-Bar.
;
Will Thomas
sneak'd over to the
Green-man
A Brandy shop over the Way
;
Thus our Customers use us uncivil
Thus our Customers,
&c. Reflections of the Coffee-woman.
.
Poor
Betty
's Misfortune is pity'd by all,
Who expects ev'ry Moment in Pieces to fall,
Tho' she swears 'tis my
Lord
's, 'twas got by
Jack Hall,
Or else by poor sneaking
Will Thomas, Will Thomas,
Or else, &c.
The Author died in 1726. the 37th Year of his Age.
A Time that should to true Perfection tend;
But many promise well, that never mend.
Mr. LEWIS LAYFIELD,
WAS born in
England,
has been in many Employments both by Sea and Land, and was formerly very active and strong, able to go through Fatigues. As I do not know the Offices he bore in the Service, I must be silent on that Head. I remember him in
Drury-lane,
when I was in my Youth, a nimble active
Scaramouch,
before he was loaden with that Burden of Flesh he now carries about him. At that Time he was such a Person as his eldest Son, Mr.
Robert Layfield,
appears at present, who is a very good Player in several Cast of Parts, particularly
Serjeant Kite,
&c.
Mr.
Layfield
has been a main Pillar, Time past, in supporting the
Dublin
Theatre, and therefore ought to be respected in his Decline; but he is happily engaged for Life, and of Consequence (if Articles are binding) will receive his Salary to the Day of his Death. There are several Parts he might still perform with Satisfaction, as
Hob, Jobson,
and many others; for the Audience (in well-esteemed Actors) will 'bate them something of their Years for the Service they
have
done. I do not know whether that Circumstance will have any Weight with the Managers here, tho' it is an old-fashion'd Custom in
England;
but different Nations, different Customs.
'Tis said the Natives of the Cape
Good-Hope
It is a Custom with the Inland
Hottentots
(who are not under the Eye of the
Dutch
at the
Cape
) when they perceive their Relations drooping with Age and Infirmities, either to carry them into some distant Wood for Beasts to devour, or end them by Ax or Halter at Home; and have a Saying among them—
No Work, no Meat.
,
When Age is failing, end it with a Rope.
Mr. WILLIAM MILWARD.
THIS Gentleman was born at
Lichfield
in
Staffordshire
the 29th of
September
in the Year 1702. His Great Grandfather Sir
Thomas Milward
was Chief Justice of
West-Chester,
and raised a Troop of Horse in Defence of that unhappy Monarch King
Charles
the First, and was then a County Palatine, which occasioned the
Rump Parliament
in the Year 1659. to vote their Charter void; and I do not find it ever restor'd. The Family were originally from
Derbyshire.
The Father of our Actor, a few Years after the Birth of his Son, removed to
Uttoxeter
(commonly called
Tociter
) in the County of
Stafford,
distant from
London
126 measured Miles, formerly a Colony of the
Romans.
He had his Education in a School of that Town, accounted one of the best in that Part of the Country. At fifteen his Father brought him to
London,
where he was put Apprentice to an eminent Apothecary in
Norfolk-street
in the
Strand;
but he has often declared,
there were so many Dangers in the Employment,
that he could never like it. The following Accident made him determine to leave it.
He was ordered by his Master to carry his Prescriptions to a Gentleman and Lady ill of different Maladies at the same time; the Labels were wrong directed, but he did not discover this Mistake till the next Day, when he carried other Medicines to the same Persons, and by his Judgment in the Operation soon found out the Mistake. He was greatly terrified, but for fear of more, he let fall the Phial he had in his Hand, as by Accident, ran back to his Master, and told him what had been done. The Master ordered more proper Doses, the Patients recovered, and all was well
Mr.
Milward
's first Essay in Acting was among young Gentlemen, privately, for their own Diversion. In a small time after he mixt with a Country Company of Comedians, where his Merit shone so bright, that it open'd the Eyes of the Manager in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
with whom he rose in that Theatre, and
Covent-Garden,
to be placed in the foremost Rank of Perfection. He died in the 40th Year of his Age, in the very Meridian of an Actor, then belonging to the Theatre in
Drury-lane.
Mr.
Milward
shall make his
Exit
from this worldly Stage, with an Epilogue spoke for the Benefit of his Widow, which will better speak his Excellencies.
WHEN
Roscius
died, each gen'rous
Roman
wept,
While
Cicero
's deathless Page his Plaudit kept;
Such was the Harvest in that Golden Age,
Who toil'd to till the Vineyard of the Stage:
The
Romans
wept! more gen'rous
Britons,
ye
Dry up the Tears of
Milward
's Family:
Your bounteous Cares beyond the Grave extend!
Lo! what a Scene, dead Merit to befriend;
For Merit sure he shar'd in ev'ry Part,
Merit most rare—Integrity of Heart.
Whate'er of Friendly, Gen'rous, Good, he play'd,
In Scenes of real Life he still display'd:
Young
Hamlet
's Sable when he chose to wear,
Young
Hamlet
's filial Piety was there:
When the fond Lover
Phocyas
in the
Siege of Damascus.
Phocyas
was his Part,
Each tender Line sprang glowing from his Heart;
Or when
Macduff
's dire Anguish was his Theme,
The Husband and the Father bled in him.
Well might he please, when with each virtuous Thought
The Poet penn'd, the Player's Breast was fraught.
Such
Milward
was, as such his early Grave
Calls down the Pity of the Fair and Brave;
Cut off just at the Noon-tide of his Days,
Just when he hop'd to have deserv'd your Praise:
The Player, steel'd to counterfeit the Tear,
Distills an undissembled Eye-drop here;
Whilst by this splendid Circle fir'd, his Breast
With Emulation burns, and claims his best,
That his own
Manes
may like
Milward
's rest.
Mr. CHARLES MACKLIN,
WAS born in the Kingdom of
Ireland,
but left that Country very young. He cast his Thoughts towards the Stage in
England
in his early Years. The Science of Acting is not to be learn'd without great Labour and Study; and, not copying any Performer that went before him, he has at length shone out a finish'd Original. I never knew him undertake any Part, but, as in Painting, I found some Strokes of Nature that gave fresh Touches to the Picture he was drawing.
He rose gradually in the Theatrical Corps, like the late Northern Star of
Russia,
till he came to be chief Leader; he regularly gained the Topmast Step, and now is seated in the Throne of Perfection, dispensing Laws to that Part of the Province where the SOCK is worn, where he reigns sole Monarch, and deservedly so, since with long laborious Pains he has found out the true Rule of Reigning.
Shylock
the
Jew,
in the Merchant of
Venice,
is so immitably counterfeited, that we cannot say more than what a Gentleman said
extempore
on seeing him perform the Part:
This is the
Jew
That
Shakespear
drew.
This excellent Comedian is Author of a Play call'd
Henry
the VIIth, or the
Popish Impostor,
acted at the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-Lane,
the Story of
Perkin Warbeck.
The Piece (in my Judgment) is well-plann'd, the Diction is not considered critically; but no wonder, since he was put upon the Subject, and had but six Weeks from the first Line in Writing to the first Night in Acting. The following One-Act Pieces have been performed with great Success, but not printed.
A
Will,
or no
Will;
or, a new Case for the
Lawyers.
A
Critic
on the
Suspicious Husband;
or, the
Plague of Envy.
The
Fortune-Hunters;
or, the
Widow Bewitch'd.
I shall conclude with two Lines, wrote b7 a Gentleman in this Kingdom.
This
Jew,
this
Colonel, Lopez, Ben,
has shown,
He makes each various Character his own.
Mrs.
MACKLIN,
MAY (by her Judgment and Execution in the Parts she undertakes) be equally ranked with the first Class of Actresses, and, in some Articles, lead the Way. She never sets up for a
Heroine,
or attempts to appear in an improper Light; she knows the Power of her own Talents, and always shines with unborrow'd Light, without the Danger of being eclipsed. Her Propriety in Dress, for the various Characters she performs, is another Excellence that most of her Cotemporaries either pass over with very little Regard, or not enough.
In my Theatrical Course of above thirty Years, I have not seen her Equal in many Parts,
viz.
the
Widow Black-Acre
in
Wycherly
's
Plain-Dealer,
Mrs.
Day
in the
Committee, Widow Lackit
in
Southern
's
Oroonoko, Lady Pliant
in
Congreve
's
Double-Dealer, Doris
in
Aesop
by Sir
John Vanbrugh,
Mrs.
Amelet
in the
Confederacy
by the same Author, Lady
Wishfort
in the
Way of the World,
and a Number of other Characters, that are wrote in the true Spirit of Comedy. But a Vessel need not fail of arriving at the desired Port with the Care of so good a Pilot.
We may find by these two Examples, that
Ireland
has produced as complete Comedians as her Sister
England:
But I shall give a few Lines, the Sentiments of a young Gentleman in this City.
To Mrs. MACKLIN.
WHILE
Macklin
charms the list'ning Throng,
A nobler Subject warms my Song:
Of Nature's sacred Name I'd sing,
From whom her various Beauties spring;
The swelling Sense!—the genial Fire!
The nameless Graces we admire!
To her—she frankly did impart
A Clue—to trace the mazy Heart:
She gave her Wit—with graceful Ease,
And ev'ry Attribute to please;
But know—thou finish'd Nymph—to you
Nor Wonder—nor Applause—is due
For Charms—which Nature only drew.
Mr.
JOHN MORRIS,
WAS born in this Kingdom. I understand his first Entrance on the Stage was under the Conduct of Mrs.
Violante:
With her he travelled to
England,
and by various Changes has been in most of the Theatres in
London
as well as
Dublin.
There are several old Mens Parts that he masterly executes. He sings passingly, is esteemed a good
Teague,
and an excellent
Pierrot.
He has a Brother of the same Calling.
Dancing
is certainly one of the Appendages to Education that few polite People would be without; yet, if it mends the Manners, it does not always mend the Mind; but, as
Othello
says,
—'Tis not to make me jealous,
To say my Wife is fair, feeds well, loves Company,
Is free of Speech, sings, plays, and dances well;
Where Virtue is, these are most virtuous.
Mr. CHARLES MORGAN,
WAS born in
London
in the Year 1717. His Father and Mother both belonging to the Stage at his Birth, the Son play'd the Childrens Parts as soon as he could speak plain. He came into this Kingdom in the Year 1737. with his Parents, where he made a great Progress in what is called low Comedy, and gave great Hopes of Perfection, if a lingering Consumptioh had not taken him off in the Flower of his Age. I fear he took a little too much Freedom with his Constitution, and by Perseverance made shift to get the better of it. He died in
May
1745. in the 28th Year of his Age. The last Part he performed was
Beau Clincher
in the
Constant Couple,
being the first Time of Mr.
Sherridan
's appearing in the Character of
Sir Harry Wildair,
where Mr.
Morgan,
notwithstanding his ill Habit of Body, like a Taper in its last Blaze, gave a brighter Flame than all that shone before. This was
November,
tho' he lingered on till the
May
following.
Thus manly Health is often overcome,
When its worst Woe is to be found at Home.
Mr. MOZEEN.
I Think I know enough of him to imagine he is a very improving Actor: He has many Requisites that may make out what I assert for him, a good Person join'd to a genteel Education, Judgment, Voice, and Understanding. His Success already (since he has had but three Years Experience) shews us a larger Prospect of Advantage.
He was born in
England
(tho' of
French
Extraction) and (if it is any Honour to him had the much-talk'd-of Dr.
Henry Sachevere
for a Sponsor.
Mrs.
Mozeen
(formerly Miss
Edwards
) knew a Child. She sprung up under the Car
of that eminent Actress Mrs.
Clive.
I know Mrs.
Mozeen
is an Adept in Music, has a charming Manner and Voice: If her innate Modesty keeps her back as an Actress, Time may get the better of her Timidity. Modesty may assume a proper Spirit, when it is assured of being justly right in what is undertaken; for Virtue has ever Courage, and is its own Guardian.
Virtue could see to do what Virtue would
By her own radiant Light, tho' Sun and Moon
Were in the flat Sea sunk.
Milton.
Mr. WILLIAM MYNITT.
THIS Gentleman was born of a good Family, at
Weobly
in
Herefordshire,
in the Year 1710. where he received a good Schoo Education: He was sent to
London
very young to be put into Business, but his Friends or rather Relations (who often prove our greates
Enemies) neglecting his Fortune, he turn'd hi Thoughts to the Drama. However he had no the Vanity of most of the Theatrical young Heroes, who jump at once into your
Othello
Oroonoko, Hamlet,
or
Captain Plume;
but wisely weighing his own Talents, step'd into the Part of
Polonius
in
Hamlet,
where he gained such Applause, that he resolv'd to put on the
Sock,
with which he walked an easy Pace in the right Road to Perfection.
His first Trial of Skill was at the Theatre in the
Hay-market
(commonly called the
French House),
where he gave such Strokes of Judgment that alarmed his best Antagonists. From his beginning Encouragement he was solicited to add a promising Member to the Company of
Bath,
where there is a regular Theatre, and an Audience as difficult to be pleas'd as that in
London,
being generally Persons of the highest Rank that frequent those Diversions in the Capital. He had the good Fortune to give Satisfaction there, insomuch that several Persons of Distinction and Taste promised to recommend him to one of the establish'd Theatres in
London:
But a Company that Season setting out for
Ireland,
he was resolv'd to accompany them, and cultivate his Genius in this Kingdom. His Knowlege in Music is some Addition to his Merit, and in his Walk of Acting he may keep Pace with the best on both Sides the Water.
I never saw Mrs.
Mynitt
perform any Part; but as she has an amiable Person, and excellent Voice, I have taken it upon Trust, that she is an agreeable Actress both in Tragedy and Comedy. But the Bulk of the Letters in the Bills are the distinguished Characteristics of Merit. It puts me in Memory of a
Mandarin
I saw at
Canton
in
China,
who was lifted on a Throne of State to public View, while a Dozen of his Slaves that bore him in Triumph through the Streets, were covered with a Curtain, and no more of their Persons seen but the regular Steps of their Feet.
In ev'ry Region 'tis a Maxim try'd,
Custom in spight of Reason will preside.
Mr. HENRY NORRIS (alias JUBILEE DICKY).
THIS natural Comedian was born in
Salisbury Court
in 1665. near the Spot where the Theatre was afterwards erected that went by the Name of
Dorset-Garden
Theatre, it being in Queen
Elizabeth
's Days the Gardens of the Palace belonging to the Earl of
Dorset.
He play'd on the
Irish
Stage in 1695 Tho' a diminutive Figure, there were many Parts that he excelled in,
viz. Barnaby Brittle
in the
Wanton Wife,
&c. I remember when Mr.
Norris
was in his Decline, Mr.
Cibber
se
made some Alterations in the Play, and perform'd the Part himself; Mrs.
Oldfield
tha of Mrs.
Brittle.
But she complain'd she couk not perform it with that Spirit with him, as she did with little
Norris
(as she call'd him). When asked her the Reason, she reply'd,
Cuckold
did not sit so easy on
Cibber
's Figure as it di
upon that of
Norris
's, who seem'd form'd by Nature to be one.
The Mother of this little great
Comedian
was one of the first Women that came on the Stage as an Actress; for some Time after the Restoration of King
Charles
the Second young smooth-fac'd Men perform'd the Womens Parts. That humourous Monarch, coming before his usual Time to
Shakespear
's
Hamlet,
sent the facetious Earl of
Rochester
to know the Reason of their Delay; who brought Word back, That the
Queen was not quite shav'd. Ods Fish
(his usual Expression),
I beg her Majesty's Pardon! we'll wait till her
Barber
has done with her.
Mr.
Norris
married Mrs.
Knapton,
the Sister of the late Mr.
Wilks
's first Wife, by whom he had several Children. The Females are since dead, and resembled the Mother in Stature, she being a very personable Woman; but the Sons copied the Father, our
Jubilee Dicky,
which Nickname came for his inimitable humourous Performance of a Part so called in
The Constant Couple; or, A Trip to the Jubilee.
He spoke Tragedy exceedingly knowing in the different Passions, tho' he never perform'd any Part of the serious Cast: for, notwithstanding his Judgment, on the
London
Theatres his Figure must have made the Sentiments ridiculous. After the Death of that celebrated Author Mr.
Addison,
the merry Mr.
Penkethman,
at his Theatre at
Richmond
There are two
Richmonds
in
England;
one in
Yorkshire,
that gives the Title to that illustrious Family; the other
Richmond
is Ten Miles from
London.
It may rank with some Cities in
England
for its Extent, but I know of none that can equal it in its fine Situation upon the noble River
Thames,
its healthful Air, beautiful various Prospects from the Hill, and its increasing noble Buildings.
, play'd the Tragedy of
Cato,
or, rather, defil'd those noble Sentiments of Liberty, out of such merry Mouths.
Norris
was ridiculously dressed for
Cato, Penkethman Juba,
low Comedians for the other Characters, and the two Ladies supplied by Men of the same Cast: Yet a blind Man might have borne with
Norris
in the
Roman Patriot,
for he spoke it with all the Solemnity of a suffering Hero; while
Penkethman,
and the rest of the motley Tribe, made it as ridiculous by Humour and Action: And yet some of the first Rank in the Kingdom seemed highly diverted, whilst others invoked the
Manes
of the dead
Roman
and
Briton
to rise, and avenge their own Cause. I remember the next Morning the following four Lines were pasted on the Door of the Playhouse:
While Greatness hears such Language spoke,
Where godlike Freedom's made a Joke;
Let such mean Souls be never free
To taste the Sweets of Liberty.
An illustrious Nobleman, who had a Seat near
Richmond,
seeing several People reading the Lines as he was riding up the Hill, stop'd, and perused them; and said, in his usual grave Manner,—
I wish the Poetry had been better.
Mr.
Norris
died in the 69th Year of his Age. His eldest Son may be remember'd here as an
Actor,
some few Years ago, on old
Smockalley
Stage; but neither he, nor his Brother (who has likewise troubled several Country Stages in
England),
resembled the Father in any Thing but Stature.
Great Nature differs in the human Race;
Some worthless Stems the Parent-roots disgrace.
Mrs. ANNE OLDFIELD.
THE Reason why I have thrust this celebrated Actress into my Account, may be learn'd by the following Epistle.
Dublin,
May the 27th.
SIR,
WE find, by the News-papers, you intend to give us the
History of the Stage.
It is desir'd by several, that you would be pleased to add Mrs.
Oldfield
to the Number (tho' we are all assured she never was in this Kingdom). We know the Task is in your Power; and you will oblige many that have a Regard for you.
Yours, &c.
Every Art has its Origin, but, when brought to full Perfection, it is often in Danger of decaying, and, sometimes, of being quite lost in Oblivion. Painting on
Glass,
in this Age, is but a faint Copy of our Forefathers in that Art; and the perdurable Cement of our antient
Castles,
&c. is now unknown. The Sun sets to rise again, but
Oldfield
's Light is lost for ever.
I was too young to view her first Dawn on the Stage, but yet had the infinite Satisfaction of her Meridian Lustre, a Glow of Charms not to be beheld but with a trembling Eye! which held her Influence till set in Night.
Mr.
Farquhar
(as I have been informed by herself) brought her first to shine in Public. He accidentally, at a Tavern kept by a near Relation of Mrs.
Oldfield
's, heard a Person reading a Comedy in a Room behind the Bar, with such a just Vivacity, and Humour of the Characters, as gave him infinite Surprize, and Satisfaction. His Curiosity was too prevalent to observe the Height of good Manners; therefore he made a Pretence to go into the Room, where he was struck dumb, for some Time, with her Figure, and blooming Beauty; but was more astonish'd at her Discourse, and sprightly Wit. Mr.
Farquhar
press'd her to pursue her Amusement, but was obliged to depart without that Satisfaction.
Mr.
Wilks
was, at that Time, in
Ireland;
therefore he took some Pains to acquaint Sir
John Vanbrugh
(who had some Share in the Theatre) with the Jewel he had found thus by Accident. It was some Time before she would be prevailed upon; tho' she has merrily told me,
I long'd to be at it, and only wanted a little decent Intreaties.
Alinda,
in the
Pilgrim,
was the first Part she was taken Notice of in, which Sir
John Vanbrugh
alter'd and reviv'd upon her Account; which is a Character of different Species of Passions and Variety; where she charm'd the Play into a Run of many succeeding Nights.
I remember, in her full Round of Glory in Comedy, she used to slight Tragedy. She would often say,
I hate to have a Page dragging my Tail about. Why do they not give
Porter
these Parts? She can put on a better Tragedy Face than I can.
When
Mithridates
was revived, it was with much Difficulty she was prevail'd upon to take the Part; but she perform'd it to the utmost Length of Perfection, and, after that, she seem'd much better reconcil'd to Tragedy. What a majestical Dignity in
Cleopatra
! and, indeed, in every Part that required it: Such a finish'd Figure on the Stage, was never yet seen. In
Calista,
the
Fair Penitent,
she was inimitable, in the Third Act, with
Horatio,
when she tears the Letter, with
—To Atoms! thus!
Thus let me tear the vile detested Falshood,
The wicked lying Evidence of Shame!
Her excellent clear Voice of Passion, her piercing flaming Eye, with Manner and Action suiting, us'd to make me shrink with Awe, and seem'd to put her Monitor
Horatio
into a Mouse-hole. I almost gave him up for a troublesome Puppy; and though Mr.
Booth
play'd the Part of
Lothario,
I could hardly lug him up to the Importance of triumphing over such a finish'd Piece of Perfection, that seemed to be too much dignified to lose her Virtue.
Even her Amours seemed to lose that Glare which appears round the Persons of the failing Fair; neither was it ever known, that she troubled the Repose of any Lady's lawful Claim; and was far more constant than Millions in the conjugal Noose.
She was of a superior Height, but with a lovely Proportion; and the Dignity of her Soul, equal to her Form and Stature, made up of benevolent Charity, affable and good-natur'd to all that deserv'd it. Mr.
Savage,
Son to the Earl
Rivers,
when he was persecuted by his unnatural Mother, received from her evergiving bountiful Hand, Fifty Pounds a Year during her Life; and she was, with Mr.
Wilks,
a main Means in saving him from an ignominious End.
The Part of
Sophonisba,
a Tragedy (by Mr.
Thomson,
famed for many excellent Poems), was reputed the Cause of her Death; for, in her Execution, she went beyond Wonder, to Astonishment! From that Time her Decay came slowly on, and never left her till it conducted her to eternal Rest, the 23d of
October
1730. She left several charitable Legacies, and very handsome Fortunes to her two Sons. But let us see what better Writers say of this Phoenix of the Stage. O! that we might have another from her Ashes!
You may read, if you please, what a
French
Author has wrote on this inimitable Actress, as well as some Touches on our
English Drama.
Sir
Roger Mostings,
Baronet, was passionately in Love with a famous Actress called Mrs.
Oldfield;
and, notwithstanding her Indifference, and even bad Usage, could not be cur'd—He being at Supper with us when his Disgrace and Banishment were notified to him, his greatest Concern was for his Mistress, whom he must abandon: His Grief and Love made him shed Tears. His Order bore, That he should retire to his Estate the next Day; and therefore, as the last Remedy for his Love, he proposed instant Marriage to Mrs.
Oldfield,
which produced no other Effect than a mortifying Refusal
We may gather, from this Author, that the Passage mention'd was in the Year 1715. when the Rebel Lords suffer'd Death, and Lord
Nithisdale
made his Escape from the
Tower,
disguised by his Lady in her Habit. Sir
Roger Mostings,
then Commander in the Fourth Troop of Life-guards, spoke too freely in Favour of the imprison'd Noblemen that were concern'd in the Rebellion, and therefore was order'd to leave the Court, and retire to his Estate; as also the Earl of
Nottingham,
the Earl of
Ailesford,
the Lords
Finche
and
Guernsey,
my Lord
Portmore,
the Earl of
Orkney,
Lord
Windsor,
and many others; all depriv'd of their Posts and Places, with the same Orders to retire to their Estates. Sir
Roger
was esteemed one of the handsomest Men in the Kingdom, witty, wellbred, and had a great Estate; which proves that Mrs.
Oldfield
despised Interest, and would not give her Hand without her Heart.
. This amiable Woman was admitted, with Pleasure, into the Company of Ladies of the first Rank for Birth and Virtue; who seemed to take her Visits as an Honour done them. It must be owned, she is an incomparable sweet Girl! She reconciled me to the
English
Stage. Her Voice, her Shape, and all her Actions, so charm'd me, that I made the more Haste to learn the Language, that I might understand her.
The
English
are passionately fond of Dramatic Entertainments, and I doubt if
France
can produce so many excellent Works of this kind as
Britain;
and I have seen some superior to
Greece
or
Rome.
They have their
Shakespear, Dryden, Otway, Congreve, Cibber, Farquhar,
and a numerous Train of excellent Tragic and Comic Poets; that have the Force of moving the Soul, with their Energy of Sentiments and Expression, far beyond the Antients.
I shall conclude this Account with an Abstract of a Copy of Verses wrote by Mr.
Savage,
illegitimate Son to Earl
Rivers,
tho' the Author of that unfortunate Gentleman's Life seems to deny it; I suppose, because his Name is not in the Title-page: But first, her
Epitaph.
Hic juxta requiescit
Tot inter poetarum laudata nomina
ANNA OLDFIELD.
Nec ipsa minore laude digna,
Quippe quae eorum opera,
In scenam quoties prodivit,
Illustravit semper & nobilitavit.
Nunquam ingenium idem ad partes diversissimas
Habilius fuit:
Ita tamen ut ad singulas
Non facta, sed nata esse videretur.
In Tragoediis
Formae splendor, oris dignitas, incessus, majestas,
Tanta vocis suavitate temperabantur,
Ut nemo esset tam agrestis, tam durus spectator,
Quin in admirationem totus raperetur.
In Comoedia autem
Tanta vis, tam venusta hilaritas, tam curiosa
Felicitas,
Ut neque sufficerent spectando oculi,
Neque plaudendo manus.
In
English
thus:
Near this (among the celebrated Poets)
Rests the Body of
ANNE OLDFIELD,
Herself not less deserving to be celebrated:
For, whenever on the Stage,
Her Action illustrated and ennobled
Their Compositions.
Never was one Genius so adapted to the most
Different Parts:
She seemed born for each distinct.
In TRAGEDY,
Her noble Presence, elevated Speech, and
Majestic Gait, tempered with so peculiar
Sweetness of Voice, never failed to transport the
Most Rustic, and Insensible, into Admiration.
In COMEDY,
She discovered such a happy Air, such a
Sprightly and becoming Gaiety,
And so delicate an Address,
That neither Eyes were satisfied with Seeing,
Nor Hands weary of Applauding.
A
POEM
to the Memory of Mrs.
ANNE OLDFIELD.
OLDFIELD
's no more! and can the Muse forbear
O'er
Oldfield
's Grave to shed a grateful Tear?
Shall she, the Glory of the
British
Stage,
Pride of her Sex, and Wonder of the Age;
Shall she, who, living, charm'd th' admiring Throng,
Die undistinguish'd, and not claim a Song?
No; feeble as it is, I'll boldly raise
My willing Voice, to celebrate her Praise,
And with her Name immortalize my Lays.
Had but my Muse her Art to touch the Soul,
Charm ev'ry Sense, and ev'ry Pow'r controul,
I'd paint her as she was—The Form divine,
Where ev'ry lovely Grace united shine;
A Mien majestic, as the Wife of
Jove;
An Air as winning, as the Queen of Love:
In ev'ry Feature rival Charms should rise,
And
Cupid
hold his Empire in her Eyes.
A Soul, with ev'ry Elegance refin'd
By Nature, and the Converse of Mankind:
Wit, which could strike assuming Folly dead;
And Sense, which temper'd ev'ry thing she said;
Judgment, which ev'ry little Fault could spy;
But Candour, that would pass a Thousand by:
Such finish'd Breeding, so polite a Taste,
Her Fancy always for the Fashion past;
Whilst ev'ry social Virtue fir'd her Breast
To help the Needy, succour the Distrest;
A Friend to all in Misery she stood,
And her chief Pride was plac'd in doing Good.
But now, my Muse, the arduous Task engage,
And shew the charming Figure on the Stage;
Describe her Look, her Action, Voice, and Mien,
The gay Coquet, soft Maid, or haughty Queen.
So bright she shone, in ev'ry diff'rent Part,
She gain'd despotic Empire o'er the Heart;
Knew how each various Motion to controul,
Sooth ev'ry Passion, and subdue the Soul:
As she or gay, or sorrowful appears,
She claims our Mirth, or triumphs in our Tears.
When
Cleopatra
's Form she chose to wear,
We saw the Monarch's Mien, the Beauty's Air;
Charm'd with the Sight, her Cause we all approve,
And, like her Lover, give up all for Love:
Antony
's Fate, instead of
Caesar
's, choose,
And wish for her we had a World to lose.
But now the gay delightful Scene is o'er,
And that sweet Form must glad our World no more;
Relentless Death has stop'd the tuneful Tongue,
And clos'd those Eyes, for all, but Death, too strong:
Blasted that Face where ev'ry Beauty bloom'd,
And to eternal Rest the graceful Mover doom'd.
Mr. PACK,
IN the Remembrance of many, was once on the Stage in this Kingdom, to his no small Terror: For a Storm at Sea, he told me, frighten'd him so much, that the Anxiety of returning dwelt so strongly on his Mind, that he could not appear half himself to the Public; and, to lessen his Sea-voyage back again, he went to
Dunaghadee,
in the North of
Ireland,
and embark'd for
Scotland;
verifying the old Proverb,
The farthest Way about, is the nearest Way home.
He first came upon the Stage as a Singer; and being, as they say, a
smock-fac'd Youth,
used to sing the Female Parts in Dialogues, with that great Master Mr
Leveridge,
who has so many Years charm'd with his manly Voice. But Mr.
Pack
was excellent in many Parts; as
Marplot
in the
Busy Body,
Beau
Maiden
in
Tunbridge-Walks,
Beau
Mizen
in the
Fair Quaker of Deal,
&c.
indeed Nature seem'd to mean him for those sort of Characters.
He had such an Antipathy to the Water, that he would sooner choose to go from the
Haymarket
to
Lambeth
round the Bridge, than just cross in a Boat. I heard a certain Peer (as much fam'd for his Wit as his Principles, who died in the Service of
Spain
) ask
Pack
if he would go with him to
France
for a Month?
Yes,
reply'd Mr.
Pack, if your Grace will get a Bridge built from
Dover
to
Calais.
For Gads curse me if I ever set my Foot over Salt-water again
!
Mr.
Pack
left the Stage in the Meridian of Life, and set up a a Tavern (the
Globe
) near
Charing-cross,
over-against the
Haymarket,
where he died, having no Wife, or Issue. I know not any Relation he left behind, to lament his Death.
Had Transportation been this Player's Doom,
Conviction had brought sudden Death at Home.
Mr. WILLIAM PHILLIPS (Harlequin).
THIS extraordinary Person was born in
Wales,
tho' he never knew one Word of his Mother-tongue; neither did I ever hear of the School-mistress that taught him
English:
Yet he got perfect in two Parts, and perform'd them both with Applause;
viz.
the
Welsh Collier
in the
Recruiting Officer,
and the
Drunken Colonel
in the
Intriguing Chambermaid:
But his great Talent lay in the
Mimes
and
Pantomimes.
Tho' the Art does not require much Rhetoric, yet they should have
Heads,
as well as
Heels.
He was taught Tumbling, and Slight of Hand, by that great Master of Arts, the stupendous Mr.
Faux,
and out-did his Master in several Tricks; and was very happy at Invention, in escaping to
Ireland
This great Man was taken up in
London
for Suspicion of Debt, and dealt with the honest Officer in the following Manner: He first call'd for Liquor in abundance, and treated all about him, to the no small Joy of the Bailiff, who was rejoiced to have a Calf that bled so well (as they term it).
Harlequin
made the honest Bailiff believe he had six Dozen of Wine ready pack'd up, which he would send for, to drink while in Custody, and likewise allow him Six-pence a Bottle for drinking it in his own Chamber. Shoulder-dab listen'd to the Proposal with Pleasure: The Bailiff went to the Place, as directed, and return'd with Joy, to hear that it should be sent in the Morning early. Accordingly, it came by a Porter, sweating under his Load: The Turnkey call'd to his Master, and told him, the Porter and Hamper were come in:
Very well,
says he,
then let nothing but the Porter and Hamper out.
The Porter perform'd his Part very well; came heavily in with an empty Hamper, and seem'd to go lightly out, with
Philips
on his Back. He was dishamper'd at an Alehouse near the Water-side, cross'd the
Thames,
and, soon after, embark'd for
Ireland.
He was very fond of this Trick, and would take Pride in his Project, which was contriv'd long before he was taken, to be ready on such an Emergency. When this Scheme was concerted with the Porter, he made this threatening Speech to him;
G—d strike me plump
(his usual Speech)!
if you are not as secret as the Sun at Noon-day, I'll broil you, and eat you alive, you Dog
! Exit
Phillips.
, where he became a Sharer in
Smock-alley,
till he, with his Name-sake, broke the
Fraterhood.
He was the first Projector of the Theatre in
Capel-street;
neither was he much to blame in this, since a Sort of Manager for the Proprietors, who knew as much of the Matter as a
Journeyman Taylor
does of
Bell-founding,
by his inimitable Rhetoric persuaded his Employers, that he and his Wife had too much Salary; and yet, the next Season, gave twenty Times the Sum, to prevent their Playing: Yet
Phillips
open'd, and got Money. But, to shew his Dexterity, he played a
Harlequin
Trick; and, in one of his Deceits, made his Escape (with his Wife he had
here,
who was no bad Actress) back to
England;
but did not forget to take more Money than his own along with him—Travelling
is chargeable.
But
Capel-street
Theatre has been since occupied, and is still ready, on all Occasions.
Thus Juglers Tricks are form'd to cheat the Eyes,
And Knaves have found the Art to trick the Wise.
Mrs. PASQUALINO,
WAS a very sightly Actress, with a good Voice: I have forgot her maiden Name, which she first changed for
Ravenscroft,
an Actor, I am told, of some Merit. After his Demise, being musically inclin'd, she ty'd her Fate to Signor
Pasqualino,
an
Italian,
eminent for his great Talents that Way. She has left the Stage, to follow the Fortune of her Spouse; and, I have been inform'd, they were both lately in
Holland.
Where-ever he is, he cannot fail of Reward, from his Merit: For
Music has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, and bend the knotted Oak.
I shall conclude with Mrs.
Pasqualino,
by inserting a few Lines of a Poet, on her leaving the Stage; tho' some Poets, like some Painters, do not draw exact Likenesses; and are too prone to Flattery.
Adieu! unspotted Excellence, adieu!
Chaste, spite of Censure; spite of Envy, true—
Mature in Judgment far above thy Age,
And, what's more wond'rous, virtuous on the Stage!
Ah! yet return! nor rob us of Delight;
Continue still to ravish with thy Sight!
Whether in
Desdemona
's tender Strain,
Or softer
Belvidera,
you complain;
Or in
Monimia
force the pitying Tear,
Or in the Airs of
Millamant
appear;
Or Lady
Betty Modish,
you impart,
In Characters assum'd, a real Dart!
Receive this Plaudit from th' admiring Muse,
Nor Tribute, to thy Merit paid, refuse—
And must we, then, the Loss of thee deplore?
Shall we, then, see thy lovely Face no more?
Adieu!—The Stage is, nearly, its Decline;
Since we must thee, the Boast of it, resign.
Mr. JAMES QUIN.
THIS great and just Actor was born in
King-street, Covent-garden,
the 24th of
February,
1693. tho' Numbers believe he owes his Birth to
Ireland.
His Ancestors were of an antient Family in this Kingdom: His Grandfather, Alderman
Mark Quin,
was Lord Mayor of the City of
Dublin
in the Year 1676. in the Reign of King
Charles
the Second; the Father of our
Roscius
received a liberal Education in
Trinity
College,
Dublin;
from thence he went over to
Lincoln
's-
Inn,
to finish his Studies, where he was called to the Bar; but, at the Death of his Father (who left him a plentiful Estate), he returned with his Son, then an Infant, to take Possession.
Mr.
James Quin
was educated under the Care of Dr.
Jones,
of
Dublin
(a Person eminent for Learning), till the Death of his Father in the Year 1710. Mr.
Quin
was undoubted Heir to his Estate, but through his Youth, and Inexperience of the Courts, a Suit of Law hung so long in
Chancery,
till he, unenabled to carry the Cause farther, was obliged to drop it, for want of proper Assistance. I am inform'd, a powerful Guider of the Law was his Antagonist; and a Person has but a bad Chance to fight a Duel with a Fencing-master.
Our eminent Actor first appeared on the Stage in old
Smock-alley,
in the Part of
Abel
in the
Committee.
I must take some little Pride, when I declare I imagine myself the first that persuaded him not to smother his rising Genius in this Kingdom, where, at that Time, there was no great Encouragement for Merit, and try his Fortune in
London;
whither, by his kind and ever-to-be-remember'd Recommendation, I soon follow'd him.
It is, in some sort, a Hardship to a rising Genius, in the first Entrance to a regular establish'd Company: The Parts are all supplied, and, like Under-officers in an Army, they must wait for Preserment, or do something extraordinary, before they can expect it. An Accident fell out, that gave our young Actor a happy Opportunity.
The Managers had an Order, from the
Lord Chamberlain,
to revive the Play of
Tamerlane,
for the 4th of
November
1716. which was got up with the utmost Magnificence. The third Night the late Mr.
Mills
(who perform'd
Bajazet
) was taken suddenly ill, and, with much Persuasion, Mr.
Quin
was prevailed upon to read the Part, which was thought a great Undertaking for a young Actor of his Standing; but, to the Mortification of several Competitors, he succeeded so well, that the Audience gave him their general Applause, through the whole Course of the Part. The next Night he made himself perfect, and performed it with redoubled Applauses of Approbation; and was complimented by several Persons of Distinction, and dramatic Taste, upon his early rising Genius.
But as the Theatrical World is a Picture, in Miniature, of the Great, Envy will shake her snaky Locks; People of twice his Age thought his Progress a little too rapid for their Approbation. His Temper took fire at the visible Depression; he bore it some Time with Temper, but the first Opportunity he engag'd with Mr.
Rich
in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,
where, by just Degrees, he attained the highest Round of Perfection; and (not to take any Merit from other Performers) was certainly the chief Pillar that supported all the Theatres where-ever he has performed. I will not take upon me to point out his Excellencies in any particular Part, since he is excellent in all: Therefore I shall end, with the immortal
Shakespear,
He is a Man, take him for all in all,
I ne'er shall look upon his Like again.
The great Honour this Gentleman has received from the second Illustrious Person in the Kingdom, in trusting the Royal Blood to his Care, will better speak his Excellence than my weak Skill can do.
Mr. LACY RYAN.
THIS Gentleman was once in
Ireland
with the celebrated Mr.
Quin,
and Mrs.
Clive,
in the Year 1741. He was born in
England
in the Year 1694. The first Part he was taken Notice of in, was that of
Marcus
in
Cato,
which was first acted in 1712.
In the Run of that celebrated Tragedy he was accidentally brought into a Fray with some of our
Tritons
on the
Thames;
and, in the Scuffle, a Blow on the Nose was given him by one of these Water-bullies, who neither regard Men nor Manners: I remember, the same Night, as he was brought on the
Bier,
after his suppos'd Death in the Fourth Act of
Cato,
the Blood, from the real Wound in the Face, gush'd out with Violence; that Hurt had no other Effect than just turning his Nose a little, tho' not to Deformity; yet some People imagine it gave a very small Alteration to the Tone of his Voice, tho' nothing disagreeable. He acquitted himself in many capital Parts, both in Tragedy and Comedy, to the Satisfaction of his Auditors; and has been ever esteemed in the first Rank of Actors.
Some few Years ago another unfortunate Accident befel him: As he was going home to his House after his Night's Performance, he was attack'd by a Street robber; and, making Resistance, the Villain shot a Brace of Pistol-Bullets into his Mouth, which broke some Part of his Jaw: By the Help of a Lamp the Robber knew Mr.
Ryan,
as I have been inform'd, begg'd his Pardon for his Mistake, and ran off. Of this Hurt, too, he recover'd, after a long Illness, and play'd with Success, as before, without any seeming Alteration of Voice or Face. His Royal Highness, upon this Accident, sent him a handsome Present; and others, of the Nobility, copy'd the laudable Example of the second illustrious Person in the three Kingdoms. I shall say no more of Mr.
Ryan,
but that he is genteel, and well-made.
This Gentleman has made several Excursions in the Region of Poetry; particularly a Piece, of one Act, call'd
The Coblers Opera,
which has often been performed with good Success.
No Mark of Age in Face or Form appears,
But Manhood bord'ring on the Vale of Years.
Mrs. REYNOLDS.
THE Husband of this Person gathered a Company of Actors in the
Hay-market, London,
where they, some Years ago, met with Success, for a Time; but at last it fell to-pieces, the Sinews being relax'd by an intemperate Constitution. Mrs.
Reynolds
was well esteem'd, for a very good Performer, in this Kingdom; but her Reputation seems
now
to be forgot: She's to be pitied, if it is not her own Fault.
Scandal may heal, like gaping Wounds in War;
Yet leave behind the long-distinguish'd Scar.
THOMAS SHERIDAN,
Esq
THIS excellent Actor was born in this Kingdom, Son to that very eminent the Reverend Dr.
Sheridan,
a Gentleman whose Memory will never be forgot, while Learning holds the Reins to check the vicious Mind, and guide us in the Paths of Virtue. Men are but human Brutes, poring in the Dark, without some Light of Education. Under such a Father, and at such a Fountain of Learning as this Nursery of Erudition
(Trinity
College), no Wonder for our young Actor to rise in Perfection. He was some Time in
Westminster
School, and as his Mind led him to look early towards the Drama, he had the Advantage of seeing the Regularity of the
British
Theatres, which he does not only copy, but many, who have seen both, find the Colours and Drapery so strong, that, at this Distance, it stands in equal Goodness to the Original.
To this Gentleman we owe the Decency that has been long wanting on the
Hibernian
Stage, a Difficulty no one Person could have surmounted but himself; and tho' Merit does not always meet its proper Reward, yet the Seeds of Flowers and Roots he had planted and sown in this theatrical Garden, flourish sweet and amiable, and, like a Master in the Art, Reward follows his Pains and Judgment in Culture.
The Unmeritorious pass unobserved, while Merit is commonly the Butt for Envy to empty her whole Quiver of poison'd Arrows at; yet they generally fall short of their intended Mark. I shall leave this Gentleman to his prosperous and deserved Success, with the Character of
Envy
drawn by the inimitable Pen of Mr.
Pope.
Envy
will
Merit,
as its Shade, pursue;
But, like the Shadow, proves the Substance too;
For envy'd Wit, like
Sol
eclips'd, makes known
Th' opposing Body's Grossness, not its own.
When first that Sun too-pow'rful Beams displays,
It draws up Vapours, which obscure its Rays;
But ev'n those Clouds, at last, adorn its Way,
Reflect new Glories, and augment the Day.
Mr. LUKE SPARKS.
MR.
Sparks
was born in this Kingdom, and has, by incessant Attention to the Drama, arrived to be a well-esteemed Person in the Business of the Theatre; and there are many capital Parts in the Compass of his Power; so that he may be accounted a Person in the highest second Class. I have seen him bear up the Burden of a leading Part to please the Audience, without thinking of a better to stand in his Place. He is equally useful in the
Buskin
and
Sock,
and has the Advantage of a good Person and Voice, join'd to diligent Study. He is esteem'd an excellent Oeconomist, which may be accounted a very valuable Disposition in the
theatrical World;
there is something in the very Science of the Stage that urges on to pleasurable Expence I knew a Gentleman that call'd
London
the Body of Pleasure, and the Theatre the Heart.
Mr.
Sparks
is now in
London,
at the Fountain of theatrical Erudition; and, I make no doubt, from his good Sense, at his Return to his native Country, he will meet with the proper Esteem his Merit deserves. All, or most People, find Satisfaction in Novelty; and a long Possession of the best Things is apt to depreciate them.
'Tis Novelty that brightens all our Joys;
Ev'n Beauty's Self, by long Possession, cloys.
Mr. ISAAC SPARKS.
THERE are many Parts that become the Figure of this Person, which is of a superior Height; and Nature has bestowed upon him a Vein of Humour that gives Satisfaction to the Audience. I have not seen him act since his Return to his native Country; but I am inform'd, by very good Judges, that he performs the Character of Sir
Samson Legend,
in
Love for Love,
to the utmost Perfection, with many Characters of that Cast; which will prove almost as useful in a Theatre as a Hero, or a Lover.
True Merit, with magnetic Impulse, draws
A willing Contribution of Applause.
Mr. CHARLES STORER,
WAS born in
England,
in the Town of
Lancaster.
His strong Inclination for the Stage led him early to try his Fortune there, where he has succeeded very well. His good Understanding keeps him within the Bounds of his own Power, which is the ready Road never to meet with Displeasure. I think his Talent leads him to old Men in Comedy, and the artificial Wrinkles in his Face seem to content him best, which is something singular with young Persons in a Theatre: For to appear pretty Fellows, is generally the Aim of all young Attempters in the theatrical Province. I have seen him give great Satisfaction in
Gomez
in the
Spanish Fryar, Foresight
in
Love for Love,
with other Parts of the same Cast: And what, in my Opinion, shews the Strength of his Judgment is, that he was some Years before he entered into any establish'd Theatre: Therefore he has followed the best Guide, Nature, which is ever sure to be right.
Good Sense and Nature are not form'd by Art;
But spring from secret Movements of the Heart.
Mrs. STORER (formerly Miss CLARK),
REcommends herself by her amiable Person, Good-nature, and her excellent sweet harmonious Manner in Singing; therefore she is too much desired to shew her Excellence that Way, to perform many Speaking Parts, but where her exalted Talent is required: And then, whatever she says, or sings, thus properly introduced, she doubly charms in. I shall end with four Lines of a Poem on
Ranelagh
Gardens, written last Summer in
London.
Then
Storer
—with her sweet inchanting Strains,
Steals to our Hearts, and o'er our Senses reigns;
With ravish'd Ears we hear the pleasing Sounds,
And heav'nly Joys the vaulted Roof resounds.
GEORGE SWAN,
Esq
IS a Gentleman of a good Family, born in
England.
He was made Manager of the Play-house in
Aungier-street;
which, I think, was a difficult Attempt for a Gentleman almost a Stranger to the Affairs of a
Theatre.
It is a very thinking Task; and a Person of Pleasure must either drop his Pursuits of that Kind, or sink in the boisterous Waves, which will require all his Time and Art to steer his Vessel right: As well may a Country Gentleman, who never saw the Sea, by Interest take the Command of a First Rate Man of War. However, this Person, by a genteel Behaviour, accompany'd with Affability, joined with good Nature, gained the Esteem of every one. He played several Parts with a delicate Decency. A Person of Distinction asked an Actor his Opinion of Mr.
Swan
's Performance, who reply'd,
He played very well as a Gentleman.
The Person replied,
I should be very glad to see you play like one with all my Heart.
I have heard Mr.
Swan
has espoused a Lady of considerable Fortune in
England
I have been informed this Gentleman had a considerable Post at
Cape-Breton:
If it be true, the Duration of his Office (now Peace is concluded) may not last him longer than the Government of the Theatre.
, which he may know how to use to the best Advantage; but the Management of a Theatre was a Task too hard for him.
As well may Readers turn reverse the Book,
Or reap the Harvest with a Pruning-hook.
Mr. JOHN THURMOND,
WAS an Actor of Repute in this Kingdom about Thirty Years past, and stood in many capital Parts, being then a Sharer in old
Smock-Alley
Theatre with Mr.
Thomas Elrington,
&c.
To let you see how formerly even Tragedy Heroes were now-and-then put to their Shifts, I'll tell you a short Story that befel Mr.
Thurmond.
It was a Custom, at that Time, for Persons of the First Rank and Distinction to give their Birth-Day Suits to the most favoured Actors. I think Mr.
Thurmond
was honour'd by General
Ingoldsby
with his. But his
Finances
being at the last Tide of Ebb, the rich Suit was put in
Buckle
(a Cant Word for Forty in the Hundred Interest): One Night, Notice was given that the General would be present with the
Government
at the Play, and all the Performers on the Stage were preparing to dress out in the Suits presented. The Spouse of
Johnny
(as he was commonly called) try'd all her Arts to persuade Mr.
Holdfast
the Pawnbroker
(as it fell out, his real Name)
to let go the Cloaths for that Evening, to be returned when the Play was over: But all Arguments were fruitless; nothing but the
Ready,
or a Pledge of full equal Value. Such People would have despised a
Demosthenes,
or a
Cicero,
with all their Rhetorical Flourishes, if their Oratorian Gowns had been in Pledge. Well! what must be done? The whole Family in Confusion, and all at their Wits-End; Disgrace, with her glaring Eyes, and extended Mouth, ready to devour. Fatal Appearance! At last
Winny
the Wife (that is,
Winnifrede
) put on a compos'd Countenance (but, alas! with a troubled Heart); stepp'd to a neighbouring Tavern, and bespoke a very hot
Negus,
to comfort
Johnny
in the great Part he was to perform that Night, begging to have the Silver Tankard with the Lid, because, as she said,
a Covering, and the Vehicle Silver, would retain Heat longer than any other Metal.
The Request was comply'd with, the
Negus
carry'd to the Play-house piping hot—popp'd into a vile earthen Mug—the Tankard
L'argent
travelled
Incog.
under her Apron (like the
Persian
Ladies veil'd), popp'd into the Pawnbroker's Hands, in exchange for the Suit—put on, and play'd its Part, with the rest of the Wardrobe; when its Duty was over, carried back to remain in its old Depository—the Tankard return'd the right Road; and, when the Tide flow'd with its Lunar Influence, the stranded Suit was wasted into safe Harbour again, after paying a little for
dry Docking,
which was all the Damage receiv'd.
Mr.
Thurmond
died in
London,
when he was one of the Company in
Drury-Lane
Theatre; a merry, good-natured Companion to the last.
Thus Woman's Wit (tho' some account it evil)
With artful Wiles can over-reach the Devil.
Mrs. THURMOND.
HER maiden Name was
Lewis,
born of reputable Parents at
Epsom
in
Surry.
She was married to Mr.
John Thurmond,
the Son of the above-mentioned: He is a Person of a clean Head and a clear Heart, and inherits the Mirth and Humour of his late Father.
Mrs.
Thurmond
has an amiable Person and good Voice: She wisely left the Bustle and Business of the Stage, in her full and ripe Performance; and, at that time, left behind her but few that excell'd her. Mr.
Thurmond
contriv'd many profitable
Pantomimes
for the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-Lane,
and was esteemed formerly a very good Stage Dancer; but left the Practice, before it left him.
The flow'ry Bloom of
May
adorns the Stage:
We shed our Lustre in declining Age.
But, yet, how few observe the lab'ring Ant,
To save a Winter-Store, when most they want!
Mr. VANDERBANK,
WAS born in
England,
in the Year 1684. His Father came originally from
Holland.
Mr.
Vanderbank
was brought up in the Sea-Service; but, not liking that inconstant Element, he embarked on a Trading Theatre in
England
for some time, till he made a Voyage to this Kingdom, where he has remained these Two-and-thirty Years. He was, as
Shakespear
says,
Sunk in the Vale of Years,
when I arrived here in 1741. and has not performed many Parts since that Time, But I am informed, both he and Mrs.
Vanderbank
stood in high Esteem formerly; but they have both left the Stage some time.
Declining Age to sprightly Youth gives place,
As these must do the next Theatric Race.
Mr. BENJAMIN VICTOR.
I Might have, in one respect, omitted this Gentleman, as he only performed for his own Diversion. But as few Persons, that are not profess'd Actors, know better, as I may say, the Dignity of the
Theatre,
than himself, I hope he will excuse this mentioning him to the Public. He was bred in
London,
had a genteel Education, and, from a just Way of Thinking and Acting, has improved his Merits. Tho' he does not make Poetry his Profession, yet I have seen several correct little Poems of his. As he has wrote many agreeable Pieces, that have never come to the Press, I shall beg Leave, as a Taste, to give one that has.
A CANTATA, Performed at the Castle of
Dublin
the 21st of
January
1747-8. the Birth-Day of his Royal Highness FREDERIC, Prince of WALES. Set to Music by Mr.
Dubourg.
RECITATIVE.
LET the soft captivating Strains
Of swelling Harmony begin:
In tuneful Numbers let the Swains
Great
Harrington
's Attention win:
Hibernia,
pleas'd, will listen to the Lay,
That welcomes in our
FRED'RIC
's natal Day!
AIR.
Hail! Day of Hope! O Prince renown'd!
Belov'd! with ev'ry Virtue crown'd!
Enrich'd with Merit in thy earliest Youth,
Friend to the Friends of Liberty and Truth!
The social Titles all are thine:
They make the Great illustrious shine!
The Muse can with Delight commend,
The Husband, Father, and the Friend.
Da Capo.
RECITATIVE.
Ne'er shall corroding Cares his Breast intrude;
For such can no Admission find
Within the bright unblemish'd Mind,
That knows the Joys of heav'nly Solitude.
DUET.
There, happy, free from public Strife,
He tastes the Sweets of private Life;
Bless'd with
AUGUSTA,
and her Race,
With whom our Hopes and Joys increase;
Future Sceptres they shall wield,
Shine in Courts, and grasp the Shield.
Da Capo.
CHORUS.
Live,
FRED'RIC
! live, to teach their Youth,
How to rule where Freedom reigns;
More than Crowns to value Truth,
And bind fierce Tyranny in Chains.
This Gentleman has usher'd Two little Pieces on the Stage; one, a
Pastoral;
the other,
The Mock Pilgrim,
altered into One Act from a Comedy of
Beaumont
and
Fletcher.
Mrs. VINCENT (formerly Miss BINKS),
WHEN I left
England,
Seven Years ago, was a very promising young Actress; and I am informed, from those that have seen her on the Stage
here,
that she is greatly improved; which I am apt to believe from the Judgment of the Manager, who would certainly give the best Parts to the best Performers. 'Tis the Interest of all Theatrical Managers to perform every thing in the best Manner; to do otherwise would be hurting themselves.
That Teacher might be justly call'd a Fool,
Who plac'd a Dunce in his first Class at School.
ROBERT WILKS,
Esq
THE Ancestors of this most excellent Comedian, were seated many Ages in an affluent Inheritance at
Bromsgrove
Bromsgrove
is one of the chief trading Towns in the County for the finest Broad Cloths, containing about 500 well-built Houses on the Brink of the River
Salwarp,
93 measur'd Miles from
London.
in
Worcestershire,
where most of the chief Inhabitants bear the Name of
Wilks.
The Grandfather of our excellent Comedian (Judge
Wilks),
in the Civil Wars, rais'd a Troop of Horse, at his own Expence, for the Service of the unfortunate King
Charles
the First, which was commanded by Col.
Wilks,
Brother to the Judge, and Great Uncle to our Comedian.
In that unnatural War, the Family suffered greatly by Rapine and Persecution; which was the main Motive that sent
Edward Wilks,
Esq
with his Wife, and the shatter'd Remains of an ample Fortune, to
Dublin,
for the Security of his Person, &c.
Our great Comedian was born at
Rathfarnham
near
Dublin,
in the Year 1670. His Father gave him a genteel Education. He wrote an excellent fine masterly Hand, with such Celerity that was surprising. His Genius recommended him to Secretary
Southwell,
who confirm'd him one of his Clerks when Eighteen Years of Age.
His first Inclination to the
Theatre
proceeded from the Praises of Mr.
Richards,
then an Actor on the
Dublin
Stage. Mr.
Richards
lodg'd near Mr.
Wilks;
and, being intimate with each other, he used to hold the Book of the Play, to hear if
Richards
was perfect in the Part he was then studying. Mr.
Wilks
used to read the introductive Speeches, with such proper Emphasis, Cadence, and all the various Passions, that the Encomiums given by Mr.
Richards
began to fire his Mind for the
Drama.
It was with very little Persuasion he ventured to act privately the
Colonel
in the
Spanish Fryar,
at Mr.
Ashbury
's, the ensuing
Christmas;
where he received such Approbation from that great Master, as confirm'd his Intention.
The first Part he played on the Theatre was
Othello,
with the utmost Applause; and, as he told me, pleased all but himself. He went on with great Success, for Two Years, when his Friend Mr.
Richards
Mr.
Ashbury
informed me, that Mr.
Richards
was a very good Actor, both in Tragedy and Comedy, but not over-happy in his personal Appearance.
advised him to try his Fortune in
England,
and gave him Letters of Recommendation to Mr.
Betterton,
who receiv'd him very kindly, and entered him at Fifteen Shillings a Week.
His first Appearance on the
English
Stage, was in the Part of the young Prince in the
Maid's Tragedy,
a very insignificant Character, requiring little more than an amiable Figure. Mr.
Betterton
performed
Melantius;
but when that veteran Actor came to address him on the Battlements, to excuse himself for the Death of the King in the Play, Mr.
Wilks
affirmed to me, that the Dignity of Mr.
Betterton
struck him with such an Awe, that he had much ado to utter the little he had to say. Mr.
Betterton,
observing his Confusion, said to him,
Young Man, this Fear does not ill become you; a Horse that sets out at the Strength of his Speed will soon be jaded.
However, Mr.
Wilks
soon shook off his Apprehensions, and began to rise in the Esteem of the Audience, and better Parts gained him a better Salary.
He often assisted Mr.
Harris
(an eminent Dancing-master at that time) in teaching his Scholars; and, by his genteel Address, gained the Affection of a young Lady, Daughter to
Ferdinand Knapton,
Esq
Steward of the New Forest in
Hampshire,
and by Consent of the Father they were joined in Wedlock. By this Gentlewoman he had one Son and Daughter; the Son died in his Youth; the Daughter was married to Captain
Price
Mrs.
Price
did not survive her Marriage above a Twelvemonth. She expired childless in the Year 1712. the 20th Year of her Age.
, to whom he made up a Fortune of a thousand Pounds.
Mr.
Wilks
's Finances not well answering the State of an increasing Family, he press'd for an Addition to his Salary, which every Person but the
Manager
thought he deserved; but his Request was not complied with.
Mr.
Ashbury
in
Ireland,
hearing of his Discontent, came over on Purpose to engage him. He agreed with Mr.
Wilks
for Sixty Pounds a Year, and a clear Benefit, which in those Times was much more than any other Actor ever had. When he went to take his Leave of Mr.
Betterton,
the
Manager
was with him. That great Actor expressed some Concern at his leaving the Company. "I fansy (said Mr.
Betterton
) that Gentleman (pointing to the Manager), if he has not too much Obstinacy to own it, will be the first that repents your parting; for, if I foresee aright, you will be greatly wanted here."
Mr.
Wilks
told me this Speech gave him infinite Pleasure; and made him resolve to search into himself, to find out what Mr.
Betterton
's known Judgment seemed to promise he might find. Praise from an Adept in any Science will excite Emulation, and, with some People, do more than Reward. From this Time Mr.
Wilks
grew more assiduous, and thought every Moment lost, that was not laid out upon his Studies, till he arrived at that supreme Excellence, even now remembered by innumerable Judges of the
Drama.
It was not long before the prophetic Words of Mr.
Betterton
were fulfilled. For the unfortunate Death of
Mountford
Mr.
William Mountford
was accounted an excellent Comedian; and Mr.
Wilks
often confess'd, he was the Glass that he ever adjusted himself by.
Mr.
Mountford
was basely murder'd by a Thrust thro' the Back, while a false Friend held him in his Arms with a treacherous Embrace, in
Norfolk-street
in the
Strand,
in the Year 1692. He was the Author of the following Plays.
1. Injur'd Love, or, The Ambitious Father. A Tragedy, 1688.
2. The Successful Strangers. A Comedy, 1690.
3.
Greenwich
Park. A Comedy, 1691.
4. The Life and Death of Dr.
Faustus,
1691. with the Humours of
Harlequin
and
Scaramouch.
An Entertainment of Three Acts.
was the Sickness of all their genteel Comedies, till his Parts could be supplied. Mr.
Wilks,
therefore, was immediately sent to, with Proposals of Four Pounds a Week; which was a Salary equal to Mr.
Betterton.
This was too advantageous an Offer to be refused; therefore he prepared for his Journey privately. Mr.
Ashbury
was so unwilling to part with him, that he procured an Order from the Duke of
Ormond
(then Lord Lieutenant) to prevent his going; but a particular Friend giving him timely Notice thereof, he went secretly to
Hoath,
where a Boat waited to convey him on board, and he landed safe in
England.
The first Part he performed of
Mountford
's was
Palamede
Mr.
Cibber
has, from this Play of
Marriage Alamode,
and the Comedy Part of
Secret Love,
or the
Maiden Queen,
compounded (with some Ingredients of his own) an excellent Comedy called the
Comical Lovers.
in
Dryden
's
Marriage Alamode,
a Comedy, with such extraordinary Success, as he often said, it made him almost mad with Joy. I need say no more of his Progress in Success, than that he sailed in the full Tide of Fortune, till he arrived safely to reign unrivalled to his Death.
And, as a Reward for his great Merit, he was joined in the Patent granted by Queen
Anne
in the Year 1709. He was also Manager of the Whole; and I shall not take from the Merit of others, when I say, From his sole Directions the Stage gained new Life, and Reward followed the Industry. For a continued Course of the Three Managers, for more than Twenty Years, the Stage was in full Perfection; their Green-Rooms
Green-Rooms are the Chambers where the principal Performers retire, till they are called to their Entrances where they are to go on the Stage.
were free from Indecencies of every Kind, and might justly be compared to the most elegant Drawing-Rooms of the Prime Quality: No Fops or Coxcombs ever shew'd their Monkey Tricks there; but if they chanc'd to thrust in, were aw'd into Respect; even Persons of the First Rank and Taste, of both Sexes, would often mix with the Performers, without any Stain to their Honour or Understanding: And, indeed, Mr.
Wilks
was so genteelly elegant in his Fancy of Dress for the Stage, that he was often followed in his Fashion, tho', in the Street, his Plainness of Habit was remarkable.
In
March
1713-14. Mrs.
Wilks
Mrs.
Wilks
was interr'd in the Church of
Covent-Garden,
with the following Inscription on her Tomb, wrote by her Husband.
Beneath this Marble
Lies
Elizabeth Wilks,
late Wife to
Robert Wilks,
of this Parish, Gent.
The Purity of her Mind, which appeared in all the
Duties of a virtuous Life, made her a good Wife,
Daughter, Mother, and Friend.
Her Affection was like her Piety,
Constant, as unfeigned, to her last Moment.
In Memory of her Virtues,
This Monument was erected by her Husband.
She died the 21st of
March
1713-14, in the 42d Year of her Age.
left this World, to the inconsolable Sorrow of her worthy Husband: He continued unmarried upwards of Seven Years. In the mean time he renewed his Acquaintance with Mrs.
Fell,
Relict of
Charles Fell,
Esq
of an antient Family in
Lancashire,
and married her. This Gentlewoman's maiden Name was
Brown,
of a reputable Family in
Sussex
I shall relate an unfortunate Accident concerning
John Brown,
Esq
the Father of Mr.
Wilks
's Second Wife, which he informed me of. This Gentleman lived near
Spelmonden
in
Kent,
on a handsome Estate. He took great Delight in Shooting. One Day he went out with his Servant to his usual Diversion; they sprung some Game that flew over a neighbouring Hedge; he ordered his Servant to follow and observe them on the other Side, while he would take care on the Side where he was. The Hedge was of great Extent, and Mr.
Brown
went slowly by the Side, in Expectation of the Game; at last they came, and he fired. The Servant on the other Side of the Hedge did the same, and unfortunately shot his Master in the Face, only with Two Grains of Shot; but, alas! one in each Eye, that for ever deprived him of Sight! Yet Mr.
Wilks
inform'd me, he was as chearful a Gentleman as ever he conversed with; and would lead him to every particular Fruit-tree in his large Garden, and nominate the Fruit they bore; and that very Servant, the
Innocent Guilty,
as he call'd him, lived with him at the Time I received this Account from Mr.
Wilks.
.
Mr.
Wilks
's Excellence in Comedy was never once disputed, but the best Judges extol him for the different Parts in Tragedy; as
Hamlet, Castalio
in the
Orphan, Ziphares
in
Mithridates, Edgar
in King
Lear, Norfolk
in the
Albion Queens, Piercy
in
Anna Bullen,
Earl of
Essex, Shore, Macduff, Moneses
in
Tamerlane, Jaffeir
in
Venice Preserv'd;
and a countless Catalogue of other Parts in Tragedy, which he was allowed to perform in their full Perfection.
He was not only perfect in every Part he acted, but in those that were concerned with him in every Scene, which often prevented Mistakes.
But let me have recourse to other Pens for his Excellencies. One writes thus:
No sooner had Mr.
Wilks
left the
Hibernian
Stage, and appeared on the
British,
but that sinking Theatre raised its drooping Head; and what was reckoned almost a Scandal to belong to, has ever since been, by that great Man's Management and Justice, raised to the greatest Theatre in the Universe.
Female Tatler.
The Person and Behaviour of Mr.
Wilks,
in the Part of
Essex,
has no small Share in conducing to the Popularity of the Play.
Tatler,
No . 14. Vol. 1.
This Performance
(The Trip to the Jubilee)
is the greatest Instance that we can have of the irresistible Force of proper Action. Mr.
Wilks
enters into the Part with so much Skill, that the Gallantry, the Youth, and Gaiety, of a young Man of a plentiful Fortune, is looked upon with as much Indulgence on the Stage, as in real Life.
Tatler,
No . 19.
In the Preface to the same Play the Author says: "Whenever the Stage has the Misfortune to lose Mr.
Wilks,
that
Wildair
may go to the
Jubilee.
"
In the Preface to the
Stratagem,
the Author ends thus:
The Reader may find some Faults in this Play, which my Illness prevented the amending of; but there is great Amends made in the Representation, which cannot be matched, no more than the friendly and indefatigable Care of Mr.
Wilks,
to whom I chiefly owe the Success of the Play.
Here is enough said to illustrate the personal Qualifications of this Gentleman as an Actor; therefore let me attempt to delineate his Mind.
His Purse was ever open to proper Objects of Charity; and I have often seen Tears in his Eyes at the Relation of any Misfortune that befel others. He was ever the first Proposer in any joint Charity from the Theatrical Stock, and, I am convinced, has often prevailed upon their unwilling Liberality. His Care of the Orphan Daughters of Mr.
Farquhar,
by giving them several Benefit Plays, continued to the last of his Days; and, in losing him, they have in Reality lost a Father: But, I hope, his constant Stream of Bounty has placed them above Want. In short, his private Acts of Charity are numberless. I shall add one in particular.
A Gentleman, a Native of
Ireland,
whose Name is
Smith,
who received a liberal Education in
Trinity-College, Dublin,
brought a Tragedy to the Managers of the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-Lane,
for their Approbation: The Play was read, and returned, with Desire to make some Alterations for the next Season. This postponing but ill agreed with our Author's Circumstances, that loudly called for a speedy Supply. Mr.
Wilks,
knowing the ill State of his Finances, bought a Night of his Brother ther Managers, and gave it to Mr.
Smith
for a Benefit. Yet he did not think that susficient, but used all his Interest to make it truly a Benefit, and put a Hundred Guineas clear in the Author's Pocket; with which he took Leave of his Benefactor, and the Muses; embarked for
Holland,
where he put himself under the Tuition of the great
Boerhaave
at
Leyden;
and, in time, profited so well, that his great Master of Medicine sent him to
Petersburgh,
at the Request of the
Czarina,
where, at his first Arrival, a handsome Pension was settled upon him. I have seen several Letters from this Gentleman to Mr.
Wilks;
a Copy of one I procured from his Widow, which I shall give as a Note, for the Singularity of it
Petersburgh,
Jan. 7.
O. S.
My dear Friend,
I Received yours with inexpressible Pleasure, by Captain
Pawlet,
with the Books. How shall I thank you? But no Matter.
You desire I would give you an Account of myself.
I am, at this Instant, alone in my Chamber, wrapt up to my Nose in Furs, before a Wood-fire, that might serve you in the Street for a Night of Rejoicing (for Stoves I do not use); on my Right of the Table, my Ink and Paper; on the Left, a Bottle of good
Nantz,
tho' I'm no Sot; and yet the Moon and Stars shine bright, without a Cloud large enough to cover a Tragedy Plume. When Day appears, I must see it with a Candle; for my Windows will be covered with a cold Coat of Frost, more of a thick
Substance
than the Glass; and yet it is not three to one, but To-morrow's Sun's short Progress will uncloath 'em, and leave 'em slark naked again. If I were to appear before you, fashionably dress'd, you would take me for a
Russian
Bear, I am so clumsily
befurr'd,
not only
from Top to Toe
(as
Hamlet
says), but Head and Feet.
I have Practice, more than I desire, this cold, cold Weather, and well paid: A Physician to the Crown here never wants Practice. I was sent for Yesterday to a Man that had been dead some Hours, a Nobleman's Servant, frozen to Death behind his Master's
Sled;
but I left him to be bury'd (first receiving my Fee, and a Pint Glass of Brandy); for I am not holy enough to work Miracles.
I have a good Stomach, and eat and drink well. Here is no want of any thing, but Warmth in our long Winter, and Coolness in our short Summer, being many Degrees different from you in both. However, we have our Winter Fires, and Summer shady Groves and Bowers. I have served my Time to the Language of the Country, and it is now become my Servant. My Royal Mistress is a good plump roundfac'd Lady, and does me the Honour to ask me some Questions, now we understand each other. Were you here, you would have but a small Share in Amours; Love goes by Weight in
Russia,
and those that thrive in Flesh, succeed best. A native Painter would draw
Venus
like an overgrown Hostess, and
Harper
would make an excellent
Mars
in Picture, lolling at the Feet of the fat
Cyprian
Goddess: Were the well-grown Bear here, he would be
Bojar
(or Lord) at his first Landing. My greatest Task is to keep sober amongst a Nation of Drunkards. Captain
Pawlet
will bring you a few Furs, with a small Quantity of Ermin, the Product of
Russia.
Were I settled in
Geeenland,
I should do the same, and land you a
Whale,
or a
White Bear.
You will receive them without any other Weight but themselves. But who gave me these Furs? this Affluence? this Royal Mistress? this happy Situation? A Man just of your Age and Stature. If you can't find him out, ask my dear and worthy Friend Sir
Harry Wildair,
and tell him at the same time the Grain was his; and the Reaper, with the Crop, shall ever be at his Command, &c.
.
This great and good Man continued to charm till the last of his performing on the Stage. He left this World the 27th of
September
1732. and, I must declare, I have not yet seen his Equal in
Comedy.
His disconsolate Widow caused the following Inscription to be put on his Monument in
St. Paul's, Coventgarden
This superexcellent Comedian, by his own Request, was interr'd at 12 o'Clock at Night, to avoid Ostentation; yet, to pay his Memory the greatest Honour that was ever done to a Subject, the Gentlemen of the Choir belonging to the King's Chapel came voluntarily, and performed ar
Anthem
prepared for the solemn Occasion.
, with the Arms of the
Wilks
's Family; which are,
Three Roses,
and a
Rose
for the
Crest.
His second Wife lies also in the same Vault, lately deceased.
Near this Place
(In Hopes of a happy Resurrection)
Lies the Body of
ROBERT WILKS,
Esq
One of the Patentees of his Majesty's Theatre.
A Man in private Life,
For many amiable Qualities, justly esteemed;
In Public universally applauded.
In the same Vault
(United again in Death)
Lies his beloved and loving Wife,
MARY,
Daughter of
John Brown,
Esq
of
Spelmonden
In the County of
Kent,
Relict of
Charles Fell,
Esq
of
Swarthmore-hall
In
Lancashire;
An affectionate Wife, and indulgent Mother;
A kind Mistress, and a faithful Friend.
Her charitable Disposition to the Poor
Was at all times extended, to the utmost of Her Power,
And flowed from a Heart sensibly affected
With Compassion and Benevolence.
There is no Issue left of this excellent Man to perpetuate his Memory; but his good Deeds will last for ever. I shall finish with two Lines of a Poem wrote upon his Death.
Farewel! O born with ev'ry Art to please!
Politeness, Grace, Gentility, and Ease.
Mr. HENRY WOODWARD,
WAS born in the Year 1717. in
London,
where he received a genteel Education. He is a very thriving
Comedian,
and a very peaceable Mimic, for he never strikes first; but, if he receives the first Blow, he generally returns it with double the Strength of his Adversary. He is an excellent
Harlequin,
and has what most of the motley-coat Gentry want, an excellent Head to his Heels; and if his black Mask should be thrown aside for a whole Age (tho' Levity will hardly lie so long obscured), yet, as a just and pleasing Actor in Comedy, he can never want Encouragement any-where, if Theatres are in Use, joined to his good Understanding and Pleasantry. His Good-nature is ever conspicuous upon all proper Occasions, cool in his Resentments, and warm in his Friendships, a Man fit for the World, and the World for him; and knows how to look on Fortune.
Fortune a Goddess is to Fools alone;
The Wise are always Masters of their own.
Mr. ROBERT WETHERILT.
THIS Person was born at
Stamford
in
Lincolnshire,
in the Year 1708. where his Father and Mother, belonging to a Country Company, were then playing. He play'd, as he inform'd me, the Part of the
Duke of York
in
Richard the Third,
before he could speak plain; so that it may be said, he was born an Actor. He came with his Mother (who was a well-esteemed Actress at that Time) to
Drurylane
a Boy, where he shewed his rising Genius, first, in the Part of
'Squire Richard
in the
Provok'd Husband;
from thence he went to the Theatre in
Goodman's-Fields,
where he marry'd the Sister of Mr.
Denis Delane,
then of that Theatre.
In the Year 1738. he came over into this Kingdom, and may be well remember'd; his Excellence, in several Parts of Comedy, having not yet been outdone. I cannot avoid mentioning a Passage in the Life of this truly good Comedian.
While he and his Family belong'd to the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-lane,
after the Company had finish'd the Season of Playing in
London
(which generally is at the End of
May),
he, with his Father and Mother, went, for the Summer-season, to play at several Towns in
Lincolnshire
(the Custom of many of both established Theatres). When the Company were summon'd to meet in
London
at the usual Time (the latter End of
August
) to begin the Winter-season, I receiv'd the following short Letter:
Grantham,
August 2.
SIR,
MR.
Wetherilt,
and his Wife, beg you will excuse them to Mr.
Wilks;
their Son is at the Point of Death. They beg an Answer. Be pleas'd to direct to your humble Servant
R. Stukely, Apothecary,
in Grantham, Lincolnshire.
The Meaning why I mention this Letter is, that the Son, the very Night this Letter was wrote, in all Appearance, expir'd, was stripp'd and wash'd, the Bed taken away, and he laid stretch'd on a Mat, with a Bason of Salt (a common Custom in
England
) placed on his Stomach, the inconsolable Parents remov'd to another House, the Coffin brought to the Son's Chamber, and the Windows all open. About Eight at Night a Person was sent with a Light to watch the Corpse: When she open'd the Door, the first Object she perceiv'd was poor
Bob
(as he was generally call'd by his Familiars) sitting up, with his Teeth trembling in his Head (and well they might) with Cold. The Woman, in her Fright, dropp'd the Candle, and scream'd out,
The Devil! the Devil
! This Fright alarm'd another Woman below, who ran up-stairs to see what was the Matter: In the mean time
Bob,
with much ado, had made a Shift to get from the Bed; and, taking up the Candle, which lay upon the Floor unextinguish'd, was creeping to the Door to call for Assistance, as naked as from the Womb of his Mother; which the two Women perceiving, with joint Voices repeated again,
A Ghost! a Ghost! the Devil! the Devil
! The Master of the House, hearing this Uproar, ran himself, to know the Reason; where poor
Bob,
the suppos'd Devil, and he, soon came to a right Understanding. He was put into a warm Bed, to the unspeakable Joy of his desponding Parents, and in ten Days after in
London (viva voce)
told me the whole Story of his Death.
This Accident, when real Death paid him a Visit, work'd so strongly upon his forlorn Parents, that they would not let his Corpse be coffin'd till five Days after he expir'd. Vain Hope! He died in 1743. in the 35th Year of his Age. Both his Parents died soon after him. I am sorry to end this Account with saying, his Company was so desirable, that he had many Tryals of Skill with his Constitution. He was buried, in a very genteel Manner, in the Round Churchyard.
In Tryals of Drinking, pray let me assure ye,
I never intend to be one of the Jury.
Mr. THOMAS WALKER.
THIS Person was born in the Year 1700. In his Youth he was a very promising Actor. The Part of
Charles
in the
Nonjuror,
a Comedy founded upon
Moliere
's
Tartuff,
by Mr.
Cibber,
which was perform'd at the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-lane
in the Year 1717. gave him the first Establishment as an Actor. The Applause he gain'd from performing the Part of
Macheath
in the
Beggars Opera,
was fatal to him: He follow'd
Bacchus
too ardently, insomuch that his Credit was often drown'd upon the Stage, and, by Degrees, almost render'd him useless.
He was the suppos'd Author of two dramatic Pieces;
viz. The Quakers Opera,
and a Tragedy call'd
The Fate of Villainy.
This Play he brought to
Ireland
in the Year 1744. and prevailed on the Proprietors to act it, under the Title of
Love and Loyalty.
The second Night was given out for his Benefit; but not being able to pay in Half the Charge of the common Expences, the Doors were order'd to be kept shut: But, I remember, few People came to ask the Reason. However, I fear this Disappointment hasten'd his Death; for he survived it but three Days; dying, in the 44th Year of his Age, a Martyr to what often stole from him a good Understanding.
He who delights in Drinking out of Season,
Takes wond'rous Pains to drown his manly Reason.
Mr. THOMAS WRIGHT.
THIS Gentleman was born in the Year 1707. He is descended of a good Family, and had a liberal Education. It is with some Concern I say he had
once
a good Fortune.
His first Appearance as an Actor, in
London,
was with Mr.
Giffard,
at the Theatre in
Goodman's-Fields,
from whence he removed with that Gentleman to
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields
Theatre; and from thence he was invited to the Theatre-Royal in
Drury-lane:
But, receiving some ill Usage from Mr.
Fleetwood,
then Patentee, he came over to this Kingdom in the Year 1741. where he appeared to great Advantage in several capital Characters. He afterwards went out, with a Country Company, to several Parts of this Kingdom, and is now, as I am inform'd, Head of a Company of Players in
England.
In my Opinion, his Deservings might make him desirable in any regular Theatre; he having a proper Person, pleasing Voice, and being always perfect in what he performs, joined to a good Understanding to
feel
what he speaks.
But various Causes various Minds employ;
Some love to save, while others would destroy.
Mr. JAMES WORSDALE.
THIS facetious Person must not be forgot, whose Performance, as an Actor and a Poet, has often diverted the Town. He was taught the Use of the Pencil under that celebrated Painter Sir
Godfrey Kneller.
I do not pretend to rescue him from the Lash of a Lady who has thought fit to correct him; but this I know, that I have been in his Company, when his quick Imagination has struck out several Pieces of Humour that have given great Pleasure, in his Manner of Singing. To give one Instance of it: He and I were together, without any other Company; when, on the Back of a Play-bill, he struck out the following Song, for his little Opera call'd
A Cure for a Scold.
WHoe'er to a Wife
Is link'd for his Life,
Is plac'd in a wretched Condition;
Tho' plagu'd with her Tricks,
Like a Blister she sticks,
And Death is his only Physician, Poor Man,
And Death, &c.
So the Cur who possest
A Bone of the best,
Could lick it, or leave it, at Pleasure;
But if to his Tail
'Tis ty'd, without fail
He's harass'd and plagu'd, without Measure, Poor Cur,
He's harass'd, &c.
Now what convinces me of the quick Coinage of this Song is, that the last Stanza was produced by the Accident of seeing a Dog run, at that Instant, by the Window, with a Bone ty'd to his Tail, follow'd by a hooting Mob.
This may certainly be said of him, that he had an inexhaustible Fund of Good-humour, Good-nature, and Generosity; and might have had a heavier Purse, if he had not been so light of Heart. I shall end with two Lines of his own, with very little Variation.
May be ever from Duns and from Bailiffs be freed,
And shake a loose Leg on each Side of the
Tweed.
Mr. JOHN WATSON,
IS a Person worthy of Imitation, from his Oeconomy and Behaviour in private Life. He belonged to the Stage from his Youth, first as a
Prompter,
but many Years as an Actor: If he does not excel, he is ever decent. His long Continuance in the Business has made him perfect almost in every Character, and such a Person must be extremely useful in a Theatre.
He best can guide a Stranger in the Road,
Who oft the mazy Labyrinth has trod.
Mr. JAMES WILLIAMS,
MUST not be forgot, since what he does, he does well; and, in my Judgment, were he put forward in some Parts in Low Comedy, his Execution would not lose him any Reputation. In one Ingredient to make up a Play, I think him the best I have ever known; that is, a
Property-man
Property-man
is the Person that receives a Bill from the
Prompter,
for what is necessary in every new or reviv'd Play; as Purses, Wine, Suppers, Poison, Daggers, Halters, Axes, and many more Implements of Execution, with a Thousand other &c. &c. &c.
.
His bloodless Weapons only kill in Jest;
And those that drink his Poisons, fare the best.
Mrs. WOFFINGTON.
THIS amiable Actress was born in
Dublin
of reputable Parents, who gave her a genteel Education. Her sprightly Genius led her early to the Stage, where she made a rapid Progress: Her first Establishment was in the Character of Sir
Harry Wildair
in this Kingdom, which was the first Part she perform'd in
Covent-garden
Theatre, and had a successive Progress of upwards of twenty Nights, with universal Applause. The Manager of that Theatre having some Dispute with her relating to Salary (as I am inform'd), she engag'd with the Manager of
Drury-lane,
where she has reign'd in full Perfection, unrival'd in the Parts she undertakes; till her late Re-establishment at
Covent-garden.
As Merit too often creates Envy, the little World the Theatre is not free from it. This agreeable Actress, in the Part of Sir
Harry,
coming into the Green-Room, said, pleasantly,
In my Conscience! I believe Half the Men in the House take me for one of their own Sex.
Another Actress reply'd,
It may be so; but, in my Conscience! the other Half can convince them to the contrary.
As the Theatre is the Test of other Peoples. Wit, why may they not find a little among themselves?
I am informed, she now shines in several capital Parts in Tragedy; viz.
Cleopatra
in
All for Love, Jane Shore, Monimia, Calista
in the
Fair Penitent,
&c.
I shall mention, as my last Note, an Accident that fell out at this Play, the first Season it was perform'd, in the Year 1699. which I gather'd from that Stage Chronicle, Mr.
John Bowman.
Lothario,
after he is kill'd by
Altamont
in the 4th Act, lies dead by Proxy in the 5th, raised on a Bier covered with Black by the
Property-man,
and the Face whitened by the Barber, the Coat and Perriwig generally filled by one of the Dressers. Most of the capital Actors in the establish'd Theatres have generally a Dresser to themselves, tho' they are paid by the Manager, to be ready, on all Occasions, for Stage-guards, Attendance, &c.
Mr.
Powell
played
Lothario,
and one
Warren,
his Dresser, claimed a Right of lying for his Master, and performing the dead Part of
Lothario,
which he proposed to act to the best Advantage; tho'
Powell
was ignorant of the Matter. The Fifth Act began, and went on, as usual, with Applause; but, about the Middle of the distressful Scene,
Powell
called aloud for his Man
Warren,
who as loudly replied, from the Bier on the Stage,
Here, Sir! Powell
(who, as I said before, was ignorant of the Part his Man was doing) repeated, without Loss of Time,
Come here this Moment, you Son of a Whore! or I'll break all the Bones in your Skin. Warren
knew his hasty Temper; therefore, without any Reply, jump'd off, with all his Sables about him, which, unfortunately, were tied fast to the Handles of the Bier, and dragg'd after him. But this was not all; the Laugh and Roar began in the Audience, till it frighten'd poor
Warren
so much, that, with the Bier at his Tail, he threw down
Calista
(Mrs.
Barry),
and overwhelm'd her with the Table, Lamp, Book, Bones, together with all the Lumber of the Charnel-house. He tugg'd, till he broke off his Trammels, and made his Escape; and the Play, at once, ended with immoderate Fits of Laughter: Even the grave Mr.
Betterton
Smil'd in the Tumult, and enjoy'd the Storm.
But he would not let the
Fair Penitent
be play'd any more that Season, till poor
Warren
's Misconduct was something forgot.
.
I shall leave this Lady to proceed in her Path of Merit where she still leads, with an
Epilogue
wrote purely for her Manner of Speaking: And as
Prologues
and
Epilogues
are the most difficult Tasks of both Sexes on the Stage, it is to be remark'd, but few, besides the capital Performers, are trusted with them; and a good Prologue and Epilogue have often help'd a bad Play out of the Mire, or, at least, sent the Audience home a little better humour'd.
EPILOGUE, Design'd for Mrs. WOFFINGTON in the Character of a
Volunteer.
Enters, reading the
Gazette.
CURSE on all Cowards! say I—why—bless my Eyes—
No—no—it can't be true—this
Gazette
lyes—
Our Men retreat before a scrub
Banditi,
Who scarce could fright the Buff-coats of the City!
Well—if 'tis so, and that our Men won't stand,
'Tis time we Women take the Thing in Hand—
Thus, in my Country's Cause, I now appear
A bold, smart
Khevenhuller
Volunteer—
And really, mark some Heroes in the Nation,
You'll think this no unnat'ral Transformation:
For if in Valour real Manhood lies,
All Cowards are but—Women in Disguise—
They cry, These Rebels are so stout and tall!
Ah! Lard! I'd lower the proudest of 'em all:
Try but my Courage, place me in the Van,
And, post me,
if I don't bring down my Man—
Had we an Army of such charging Wenches,
What Man, d'ye think, would dare t' attack our Trenches?
O! how the Cannon of our Eyes would maul 'em,
But our mask'd Batt'ries—Lud! how they would gall 'em!
No Rebel 'gainst such Force durst take the Field—
For, damme! we wou'd die before we'd yield!
Joking aparr, we Women have strong Reason
To stop the Progress of this
Popish
Treason:
For now, when Female Liberty's at stake,
All Women ought to bustle for its Sake.
Should these audacious Sons of
Rome
prevail,
Vows, Convents, and that Heathen Thing, a Veil,
Must come in Fashion; and such Institutions
Would suit but oddly with our Constitutions.
What gay Coquet would like a Nun's Profession?
And I've some private Reasons 'gainst Confession.
Besides, our good Men of the Church, they say
(Who now; thank Heav'n, may love, as well as pray),
Must then be only wed to cloyster'd Houses—
Hold! there we're fobb'd of twenty thousand Spouses;
And, faith, no bad ones, as I'm told—Then judge ye,
Is't fit we lose our—Benefit of Clergy?
In Freedom's Cause, ye Patriot Fair, arise;
Exert the sacred Influence of your Eyes:
On valiant Merit deign alone to smile,
And vindicate the Glory of our Isle.
To no base Cowards render up your Charms;
Disband the Lover who deserts his Arms:
So shall you fire each Hero to his Duty,
And
British Rights
be fix'd by
British Beauty.
FINIS.