EPISTLE FROM Mr.
Theophilus Cibber,
Comedian, TO Mr.
Thomas Sheridan,
Tragedian.
It is a Kind of Slander to trust to Rumour.
B. JOHNSON.
Bella! horrida Bella!
LUCAN.
The Scene oft' rallies Follies of the Age;
Laugh, in your turn, at Follies of the Stage.
ANON.
DUBLIN: Printed in the Year M.DCC.XLIII.
AN EPISTLE FROM Mr.
Theophilus Cibber,
Comedian, TO Mr.
Thomas Sheridan,
Tragedian.
Stephen's-green,
Tuesday
Afternoon,
July
19, 1743.
Mr.
SHERIDAN,
YOUR injudicious Disappointment of the Company last
Thursday,
who expected to see you in the Character of CATO, and your indiscreet Attempt to dismiss the Audience, having, as you confess, become a Town-talk, and given Rise to many idle Falshoods, meerly calculated to injure the Innocent: You must excuse me if I relate the Fact, strictly adhering to Truth. There were many Witnesses of what I am about to declare; and I know none, except yourself, whose Memory is weak enough to forget it, or will be hardy enough to deny it
When it drew near the Time proper to begin the Play, Mr.
Giffard
and myself were alarm'd, in the Dressing-room with a Report, that you declared you would not play, because you had not the same Robe you wore in that Character before; and that you said, The Audience must be dismiss'd. This Reason for dismissing an Audience, (propos'd by you who had no Right to dismiss them) appear'd to me so weak, I could not believe it, till you came into the Room, and swore, Unless you had that Robe, you would not act. This Declaration I looked upon as a rash Expression, the meer Effect of your then ruffled Temper; but could not yet suppose you would proceed so idly as you did: You were then compleatly dress'd from Head to Foot (as well as ever the Character was dress'd in any Theatre in
Ireland
or
England
) all but the Robe.
Upon Enquiry, it appeared, the Robes wore by
Cato, Juba
and
Sempronius,
the first Night, were borrowed by
Philips,
of some Gentlewoman in this Town, who bought them in an Auction at
London,
some Time since, but were by no Means the Property of the Managers, or any one belonging to the Theatre, nor were to be got that Night: so all the Heroes were equally disappointed of those Trappings. Your Impatience increased, and, tho' another Robe was brought you (the same Robe that was made new, this Year, for Mr.
Husband,
in the Character of
Julius Caesar
) you persisted in having the other uncomeatable Robe, or you positively would undress, and was determined not to play. To every body's Surprize, you did undress, and, in spight of the most friendly Remonstrances to the contrary, you made a broken kind of Speech to the Audience; with which they were so dissatisfied, they could not help shewing it.
Before you went on, I entreated you (on the meer exchange of a Robe) not to do so unpolitic a Thing, I might add, unpolite, as to think of disappointing the Town of their Diversion: You reply'd, The Vexation had deprived you of your Voice, and rendered you incapable of performing: I desired you ro consider, the first Act was of such a considerable Length, you might have Time enough to recover your Temper, and your Voice would probably return with it; or if the Defect lasted, your attempting to perform would appear so obliging, the Audience would readily make any Allowances, when they knew you had been ruffled,
&c.
but to think of giving them no Play at all, was what I could not but conceive would offend them.
To repeat all was said to you on this Occasion, would add to the Tediousness of this Recital: But, as near as I can remember, nothing was omitted, in the most friendly Manner, to dissuade you from your mistaken Purpose.
I am informed you stay'd afterwards, just long enough to hear the extraordinary indulgent Reception the Audience were pleased to bestow on my proposing, with their Leave, to give them the Play,
in the best Manner we could, since it was not in our Power to give it them so well as we would.
You then ran hastily out of the House, and sent a Message afterwards to the Theatre, That you would not, by any Means, have your Name delivered out for another Play, for you would positively act no more.
I should not, Mr.
Sheridan,
have given you or myself this Trouble, but for the many Reports that fly about, of which, 'tis said, you are the Author: And since I have advanced so far, I must go a little farther, and make a
w honest
Queries
; then, giving you a little Advice, shall submit to the Determination of the Publick, whether I (as it has been insinuated) ever intended you the least Prejudice; or, on the contrary, have not always acted towards you with good Manners and good Nature?
First then,—have I not your Letter by me, sent to me when in
England,
wherein you express yourself very desirous of my acting in the same Theatre with you, and are solicitous for my coming over?—And do you not know, your particular Application since my Arrival, was one of my strongest Motives for playing in
Smock-Alley,
where I am likely to have a Law-suit, for my Right, with the Managers, tho' I was offer'd the same Terms from
Aungier-Street
Play-house, where my Agreement would have been sign'd by a Gentleman of Honour, whose Pay is as good as the Bank.
Have I not, on your Return to the Stage this Season, in Compliment to you, play'd some inferior Characters, which, 'tis well known I had a long time resign'd to younger Actors, in
England?
Did I omit any Care, or grudge any Pains, to keep the Audience in Temper, when your sudden Indisposition prevented your playing, the first intended Night of King
Lear
? Or could I, for a Brother, have been more Active, to silence the Reports then made to your Prejudice? —
sed Tu Brute
!
Have not I desir'd you, tho' our remaining Nights of Playing were few, and we had large Sums at Stake, to fix the Plays to your own Mind?
Have not you been paid a large Part of that fresh Agreement you made, but did not compleat, while we are unpaid our Agreements, tho', we have, 'tis notorious, often solicited the Managers to release us, if they found the emptiness of the Town would not answer their continuing our Performance?—But we could get neither our Liberty nor our Money.
Have not you often been an Ear-witness of these Proposals, and as often declar
d, we behav'd with the greatest Lenity, and strictest Honour?
Did not your sudden breaking off from Playing leave us in a displeasing Dilemma? And was it not reasonable for us, to propose acting such Pieces, as might excite the greatest Curiosity in the Town, whereby the Managers might be enabled to pay us, and the rest of the Company?
Did I not decline ('till your positive Declaration, that you would play no more this Season) appearing in any Character you had perform'd? And did you not xpress yourself as oblig'd to me, on making you that Compliment, as you were pleas'd to term it?
How comes it then, Mr.
Sheridan,
reported, that Mr.
Giffard,
and my self, have intended you any injury? Or from whence is it said, that we (ridiculous! as false!) lock'd up your Cloaths, and did all we could to prevent your Playing? This, Sir, has been so frequently asserted, as a Fact related by you, that you ought as a Friend to Truth, to have fully answer'd such monstrous Falshoods; or, may we not reasonably suppose, you did spread such Reports? If you can be the Author of such naughty Tales, what Language is fit to paint you?
The Letters I read this Day in the
Dublin Journal,
if not
ipso facto
yours, are yet so worded, an impartial Reader cannot but see they were, at least, the Work of some mistaken Friend, whose good Nature you had imposed on, by false Relations: From whom, but you, could come the
satisfactory Reasons, (not one of which are mentioned
) for your not performing? Or the poor low Invectives, and mean Inuendoes therein contained?—Whom do you mean, by
Designing Wretches,
and
Theatrical Politicians?
Or what can you intend but to insinuate, you have been artfully drove from the Stage, when you know your Absence from thence is absolutely your own Act and Deed?
Fie! fie! stick to Truth, or be ashamed of such publick Addresses, or to shew your Face after them.
May not one suppose, Master
Sheridan,
the kind and civil Intention of these two Letters, is to create a Disturbance in the future Audiences?
But let me inform you, when a Rebuff to an Actor appears premeditated and bespoke from Prejudice, such Treatment may put a poor Player out of Humour; but sure, it ought not to put him out of Countenance.
If you withdraw yourself from the Theatre, for a Time, must all Diversion stop till your Return? If a Vintner has not
Ortelans,
or any other extraordinary Dainties, in the Larder, will his Guests think it impertinent, if they are intreated to take such homely Entertainment as the House affords?— And if the Defects of others, serve as a Foil to the Brilliancy of your Performance, why should you be angry, at what, if you'd keep your Temper, might prove so consolable to you?
Dear
Tommy,
don't prove such a Dog in a Manger; if you don't chuse Oats, why should you starve the rest of the Theatrical Cattle? Have more Compassion on your fellow Creatures, or fellow Comedians.
But, Master
Tommy,
may we not shrewdly suspect, tho' your Performances have been hitherto mostly tragical, you have given your Mind a little Bent towards Comedy, and, in those Studies, have taken a Hint from
Congreve
's
Petulant?
who, to keep up an extraordinary Reputation, was notorious, under a Disguise, for calling for himself at a Coffee-house; where he would sometimes, in a Mask, send in for himself, wait for himself, nay, and not finding himself, would frequently
leave a Letter for himself:
—'Faith, you are highly in Luck in improving a Hint, I find.
But let me ask you a home Question— Has not a great deal of that suss of Mind, you have lately shewn, been more owing to your Disappointment, that the Audience would not depart, when you declar'd your high and mighty Displeasure, because you had not the self-same gew-gaw, tinsel Train, more than from any Fears you had of having displeas'd them? Or was it nangry, because any one was permitted (under great Disadvantages) meerly to attempt, what they had never in their Lives a Thought of performing? Why this is the passionate Extravaganza of our Brother PISTOL, who, scorning all Contradiction, or Competition, bounces about in his Boots, kicks his Heels with Fury against the Stage, and swell'd with swaggering Rage and Nonsense cries,
Shall Dunghill Curs confront with
Helicon,
&c.—Shall Pack-Horses, and hollow pamper'd Jades of
Asia,
that cannot travel thirty Miles a day, compare with
Caesar,
and with
Cannibals,
and with
Trojan Greeks,
&c. &c.
But, as our Friend concludes,
"Shall we fall foul for Toys?—
Tho' I don't think there is any thing personally terrible about you, yet I own you a Gentleman of great Formidability, who have the Power if you say true (and you know you have talk'd at that paw-paw Rate) of calling down the Barracks, on any one you condescend to be displeas'd with: Pray, do you mean the Stone Buildings? for I can't suppose you presume to have any Command over the Gentlemen there, as I never heard of any Commission the King had yet honour'd you with; and I believe there is hardly any there will think it worth their while, to attend the Call of your Whistle, to a silly Riot: I am rather inclinable to think, the worthy Spirits, there, are more impatient to attend the Call of a Trumpet, at this glorious Juncture, and be in Actions worthy of them— And for the Gentlemen of the College, Sir, no Insinuation shall make me dread ill Usage from those, whose Birth and Education will never suffer 'em to hurt the Innocent, nor can I affront 'em with so ungenteel a Thought, that they will be the Tools of your wrong plac'd Resentment.— Mr.
Sheridan,
your Behaviour has extorted this from me, and as your Conscience must tell you, I never meant you the least Injury, should you by any little Art aim thro' Pique or Passion, unhospitably to hurt a Stranger, it would be an Act that wants a Name, and require such Language to answer, as would but ill become the Mouth of a Gentleman, or be fitting for the Ears of the Publick.
As my Stay here will be very short, I but desire (what I will not doubt meeting with) a candid Reception for the few Nights I have to play, from the good-natur'd Town, whose past Favours I am proud of; to confess them is but an Act of Gratitude: Nor will I therefore think my self liable to the Imputation of a boasting Vanity.—Let me, Mr.
Sheridan,
give you this friendly Caution,—Do not run into an Error most young Men, in our Business, have been too guilty of, who think their Merits are but barely paid, when their Reception is most favourable; and take that as their Due, which is mostly the Effect of a generous Disposition, in the Town, to encourage, and support, a rising Genius whenever it appears.—Tho' People may be as fond of such, for a while, as Gallants are of a new Mistress, yet, if Vanity and Caprice prevail, in such Performer, grown wild and wanton with Success, they know when to withdraw their Favours, nor is it easy to regain them.— If I ever see you in
England,
I'll be most unmercifully reveng'd of you, for your Mistakes towards me; and will absolutely endeavour, to make your Reception there, as pleasing to you, as you may have wish'd, mine should have been here displeasing to me: But, let us now mind our Business, and no more trouble the Publick with our Theatrical-Important-Nothings.— They will but laugh at us for our Pains.
I am yours,
&c. T. C.