 |
[Footnote 1: Lee hath improved this metaphor:
Dost thou not view joy peeping from my eyes, The casements open'd wide to gaze on thee? So Rome's glad citizens to windows rise, When they some young triumpher fain would see. —Gloriana. ]
Hunc. Alas! my lord, I value not myself That once I eat two fowls and half a pig; [1]Small is that praise! but oh! a maid may want What she can neither eat nor drink.
[Footnote 1: Almahide hath the same contempt for these appetites:
To eat and drink can no perfection be. —Conquest of Granada.
The earl of Essex is of a different opinion, and seems to place the chief happiness of a general therein:
Were but commanders half so well rewarded, Then they might eat.—Banks's Earl of Essex.
But, if we may believe one who knows more than either, the devil himself, we shall find eating to be an affair of more moment than is generally imagined:
Gods are immortal only by their food. —Lucifer; in the State of Innocence. ]
King. What's that?
Hunc. O[1] spare my blushes; but I mean a husband.
[Footnote 1: "This expression is enough of itself," says Mr D., "utterly to destroy the character of Huncamunca!" Yet we find a woman of no abandoned character in Dryden adventuring farther, and thus excusing herself:
To speak our wishes first, forbid it pride, Forbid it modesty; true, they forbid it, But Nature does not. When we are athirst, Or hungry, will imperious Nature stay, Nor eat, nor drink, before 'tis bid fall on?—Cleomenes.
Cassandra speaks before she is asked: Huncamunca afterwards. Cassandra speaks her wishes to her lover: Huncamunca only to her father. ]
King. If that be all, I have provided one, A husband great in arms, whose warlike sword Streams with the yellow blood of slaughter'd giants, Whose name in Terra Incognita is known, Whose valour, wisdom, virtue make a noise Great as the kettle-drums of twenty armies.
Hunc. Whom does my royal father mean?
King. Tom Thumb.
Hunc. Is it possible?
King. Ha! the window-blinds are gone; [1]A country-dance of joy is in your face. Your eyes spit fire, your cheeks grow red as beef.
[Footnote 1: Her eyes resistless magick bear; Angels, I see, and gods, are dancing there —Lee's Sophonisba. ]
Hunc. O, there's a magick-musick in that sound, Enough to turn me into beef indeed! Yes, I will own, since licensed by your word, I'll own Tom Thumb the cause of all my grief. For him I've sigh'd, I've wept, I've gnaw'd my sheets.
King. Oh! thou shalt gnaw thy tender sheets no more. A husband thou shalt have to mumble now.
Hunc. Oh! happy sound! henceforth let no one tell That Huncamunca shall lead apes in hell. Oh! I am overjoy'd!
King. I see thou art. [1] Joy lightens in thy eyes, and thunders from thy brows; Transports, like lightning, dart along thy soul, As small-shot through a hedge.
[Footnote 1: Mr Dennis, in that excellent tragedy called Liberty Asserted, which is thought to have given so great a stroke to the late French king, hath frequent imitations of this beautiful speech of king Arthur:
Conquest light'ning in his eyes, and thund'ring in his arm, Joy lighten'd in her eyes. Joys like lightning dart along my soul. ]
Hunc. Oh! say not small.
King. This happy news shall on our tongue ride post, Ourself we bear the happy news to Thumb. Yet think not, daughter, that your powerful charms Must still detain the hero from his arms; Various his duty, various his delight; Now in his turn to kiss, and now to fight, And now to kiss again. So, mighty[1] Jove, When with excessive thund'ring tired above, Comes down to earth, and takes a bit—and then Flies to his trade of thund'ring back again.
[Footnote 1: Jove, with excessive thund'ring tired above, Comes down for ease, enjoys a nymph, and then Mounts dreadful, and to thund'ring goes again.—Gloriana. ]
SCENE V.—GRIZZLE, HUNCAMUNCA.
[1]Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh! Thy pouting breasts, like kettle-drums of brass, Beat everlasting loud alarms of joy; As bright as brass they are, and oh, as hard. Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh!
[Footnote 1: This beautiful line, which ought, says Mr W——, to be written in gold, is imitated in the New Sophonisba:
Oh! Sophonisba; Sophonisba, oh! Oh! Narva; Narva, oh!
The author of a song called Duke upon Duke hath improved it:
Alas! O Nick! O Nick, alas!
Where, by the help of a little false spelling, you have two meanings in the repeated words. ]
Hunc. Ha! dost thou know me, princess as I am, [1]That thus of me you dare to make your game?
[Footnote 1: Edith, in the Bloody Brother, speaks to her lover in the same familiar language:
Your grace is full of game. ]
Griz. Oh! Huncamunca, well I know that you A princess are, and a king's daughter, too; But love no meanness scorns, no grandeur fears; Love often lords into the cellar bears, And bids the sturdy porter come up stairs. For what's too high for love, or what's too low? Oh! Huncamunca, Huncamunca, oh!
Hunc. But, granting all you say of love were true, My love, alas! is to another due. In vain to me a suitoring you come, For I'm already promised to Tom Thumb.
Griz. And can my princess such a durgen wed? One fitter for your pocket than your bed! Advised by me, the worthless baby shun, Or you will ne'er be brought to bed of one. Oh take me to thy arms, and never flinch, Who am a man, by Jupiter! every inch. [1]Then, while in joys together lost we lie, I'll press thy soul while gods stand wishing by.
[Footnote 1:
Traverse the glitt'ring chambers of the sky, Borne on a cloud in view of fate I'll lie, And press her soul while gods stand wishing by. —Hannibal. ]
Hunc. If, sir, what you insinuate you prove, All obstacles of promise you remove; For all engagements to a man must fall, Whene'er that man is proved no man at all.
Griz. Oh! let him seek some dwarf, some fairy miss, Where no joint-stool must lift him to the kiss! But, by the stars and glory! you appear Much fitter for a Prussian grenadier; One globe alone on Atlas' shoulders rests, Two globes are less than Huncamunca's breasts; The milky way is not so white, that's flat, And sure thy breasts are full as large as that.
Hunc. Oh, sir, so strong your eloquence I find, It is impossible to be unkind.
Griz. Ah! speak that o'er again, and let the[1] sound From one pole to another pole rebound; The earth and sky each be a battledore, And keep the sound, that shuttlecock, up an hour: To Doctors' Commons for a licence I Swift as an arrow from a bow will fly.
[Footnote 1:
Let the four winds from distant corners meet, And on their wings first bear it into France; Then back again to Edina's proud walls, Till victim to the sound th' aspiring city falls. —Albion Queens. ]
Hunc. Oh, no! lest some disaster we should meet 'Twere better to be married at the Fleet.
Griz. Forbid it, all ye powers, a princess should By that vile place contaminate her blood; My quick return shall to my charmer prove I travel on the [1]post-horses of love.
[Footnote 1: I do not remember any metaphors so frequent in the tragic poets as those borrowed from riding post:
The gods and opportunity ride post.—Hannibal.
——Let's rush together, For death rides post!—Duke of Guise.
Destruction gallops to thy murder post.—Gloriana. ]
Hunc. Those post-horses to me will seem too slow Though they should fly swift as the gods, when they Ride on behind that post-boy, Opportunity.
SCENE VI.—TOM THUMB, HUNCAMUNCA.
Thumb. Where is my princess? where's my Huncamunca? Where are those eyes, those cardmatches of Jove, That[1] light up all with love my waxen soul? Where is that face which artful nature made [2] In the same moulds where Venus' self was cast?
[Footnote 1: This image, too, very often occurs:
—Bright as when thy eye First lighted up our loves.—Aurengzebe.
'Tis not a crown alone lights up my name.—Busiris. ]
[Footnote 2: There is great dissension among the poets concerning the method of making man. One tells his mistress that the mould she was made in being lost, Heaven cannot form such another. Lucifer, in Dryden, gives a merry description of his own formation:
Whom heaven, neglecting, made and scarce design'd, But threw me in for number to the rest .—State of Innocence.
In one place the same poet supposes man to be made of metal:
I was form'd Of that coarse metal which, when she was made The gods threw by for rubbish.—All for Love.
In another of dough:
When the gods moulded up the paste of man, Some of their clay was left upon their hands, And so they made Egyptians.—Cleomenes.
In another of clay:
—Rubbish of remaining clay.—Sebastian.
One makes the soul of wax:
Her waxen soul begins to melt apace.—Anna Bullen.
Another of flint:
Sure our two souls have somewhere been acquainted In former beings, or, struck out together, One spark to Africk flew, and one to Portugal.—Sebastian.
To omit the great quantities of iron, brazen, and leaden souls, which are so plenty in modern authors—I cannot omit the dress of a soul as we find it in Dryden:
Souls shirted but with air.—King Arthur.
Nor can I pass by a particular sort of soul in a particular sort of description in the New Sophonisba:
Ye mysterious powers, —Whether thro' your gloomy depths I wander, Or on the mountains walk, give me the calm, The steady smiling soul, where wisdom sheds Eternal sunshine, and eternal joy. ]
Hunc. [1]Oh! what is music to the ear that's deaf, Or a goose-pie to him that has no taste? What are these praises now to me, since I Am promised to another?
[Footnote 1: This line Mr Banks has plunder'd entire in his Anna Bullen.]
Thumb. Ha! promised?
Hunc. Too sure; 'tis written in the book of fate.
Thumb. [1]Then I will tear away the leaf Wherein it's writ; or, if fate won't allow So large a gap within its journal-book, I'll blot it out at least.
[Footnote 1: Good Heaven! the book of fate before me lay, But to tear out the journal of that day. Or, if the order of the world below Will not the gap of one whole day allow, Give me that minute when she made her vow. —Conquest of Granada. ]
SCENE VII.—GLUMDALCA, TOM THUMB, HUNCAMUNCA
Glum. [1]I need not ask if you are Huncamunca. Your brandy-nose proclaims——
[Footnote 1: I know some of the commentators have imagined that Mr Dryden, in the altercative scene between Cleopatra and Octavia, a scene which Mr Addison inveighs against with great bitterness, is much beholden to our author. How just this their observation is I will not presume to determine.]
Hunc. I am a princess; Nor need I ask who you are.
Glum. A giantess; The queen of those who made and unmade queens.
Hunc. The man whose chief ambition is to be My sweetheart hath destroy'd these mighty giants.
Glum. Your sweetheart? Dost thou think the man who once Hath worn my easy chains will e'er wear thine?
Hunc. Well may your chains be easy, since, if fame Says true, they have been tried on twenty husbands. [1]The glove or boot, so many times pull'd on, May well sit easy on the hand or foot.
[Footnote 1: "A cobling poet indeed," says Mr D.; and yet I believe we may find as monstrous images in the tragick authors: I'll put down one:
Untie your folded thoughts, and let them dangle loose as a bride's hair.—Injured Love.
Which line seems to have as much title to a milliner's shop as our author's to a shoemaker's.]
Glum. I glory in the number, and when I Sit poorly down, like thee, content with one, Heaven change this face for one as bad as thine.
Hunc. Let me see nearer what this beauty is That captivates the heart of men by scores. [Holds a candle to her face. Oh! Heaven, thou art as ugly as the devil.
Glum. You'd give the best of shoes within your shop To be but half so handsome.
Hunc. Since you come [1]To that, I'll put my beauty to the test: Tom Thumb, I'm yours, if you with me will go.
[Footnote 1: Mr L—— takes occasion in this place to commend the great care of our author to preserve the metre of blank verse, in which Shakspeare, Jonson, and Fletcher, were so notoriously negligent; and the moderns, in imitation of our author, so laudably observant:
Then does Your majesty believe that he can be A traitor?—Earl of Essex.
Every page of Sophonisba gives us instances of this excellence. ]
Glum. Oh! stay, Tom Thumb, and you alone shall fill That bed where twenty giants used to lie.
Thumb. In the balcony that o'erhangs the stage, I've seen a whore two 'prentices engage; One half-a-crown does in his fingers hold, The other shews a little piece of gold; She the half-guinea wisely does purloin, And leaves the larger and the baser coin.
Glum. Left, scorn'd, and loathed for such a chit as this; [1] I feel the storm that's rising in my mind, Tempests and whirlwinds rise, and roll, and roar. I'm all within a hurricane, as if [2] The world's four winds were pent within my carcase. [3] Confusion, horror, murder, guts, and death!
[Footnote 1: Love mounts and rolls about my stormy mind. —Aurengzebe. Tempests and whirlwinds thro' my bosom move. —Cleomenes. ]
[Footnote 2: With such a furious tempest on his brow, As if the world's four winds were pent within His blustering carcase.—Anna Bullen. ]
[Footnote 3: Verba Tragica.]
SCENE VIII.—KING, GLUMDALCA.
King. [1] Sure never was so sad a king as I! [2] My life is worn as ragged as a coat A beggar wears; a prince should put it off. [3] To love a captive and a giantess! Oh love! oh love! how great a king art thou! My tongue's thy trumpet, and thou trumpetest, Unknown to me, within me. [4] Oh, Glumdalca! Heaven thee designed a giantess to make, But an angelick soul was shuffled in. [5] I am a multitude of walking griefs, And only on her lips the balm is found [6] To spread a plaster that might cure them all.
[Footnote 1: This speech has been terribly mauled by the poet.]
[Footnote 2: ——My life is worn to rags, Not worth a prince's wearing.—Love Triumphant. ]
[Footnote 3: Must I beg the pity of my slave? Must a king beg? But love's a greater king, A tyrant, nay, a devil, that possesses me. He tunes the organ of my voice and speaks, Unknown to me, within me.—Sebastian. ]
[Footnote 4: When thou wert form'd, heaven did a man begin; But a brute soul by chance was shuffled in.—Aurengzebe. ]
[Footnote 5: I am a multitude Of walking griefs.—New Sophonisba. ]
[Footnote 6: I will take thy scorpion blood, And lay it to my grief till I have ease.—Anna Bullen. ]
Glum. What do I hear? King. What do I see? Glum. Oh! King. Ah! [1]Glum. Ah! wretched queen! King. Oh! wretched king! [2]Glum. Ah! King. Oh!
[Footnote 1: Our author, who everywhere shews his great penetration into human nature, here outdoes himself: where a less judicious poet would have raised a long scene of whining love, he, who understood the passions better, and that so violent an affection as this must be too big for utterance, chuses rather to send his characters off in this sullen and doleful manner, in which admirable conduct he is imitated by the author of the justly celebrated Eurydice. Dr Young seems to point at this violence of passion:
—Passion choaks Their words, and they're the statues of despair.
And Seneca tells us, "Curse leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent." The story of the Egyptian king in Herodotus is too well known to need to be inserted; I refer the more curious reader to the excellent Montaigne, who hath written an essay on this subject.]
[Footnote 2: To part is death. Tis death to part. Ah! Oh —Don Carlos. ]
SCENE IX.—TOM THUMB, HUNCAMUNCA, Parson.
Par. Happy's the wooing that's not long a doing; For, if I guess right, Tom Thumb this night Shall give a being to a new Tom Thumb.
Thumb. It shall be my endeavour so to do.
Hunc. Oh! fie upon you, sir, you make me blush.
Thumb. It is the virgin's sign, and suits you well: [1] I know not where, nor how, nor what I am; [2] I am so transported, I have lost myself.
[Footnote 1: Nor know I whether What am I, who, or where. —Busiris.
I was I know not what, and am I know not how. —Gloriana. ]
[Footnote 2: To understand sufficiently the beauty of this passage, it will be necessary that we comprehend every man to contain two selfs. I shall not attempt to prove this from philosophy, which the poets make so plainly evident.
One runs away from the other:
——Let me demand your majesty, Why fly you from yourself? —Duke of Guise.
In a second, one self is a guardian to the other:
Leave me the care of me. —Conquest of Granada.
Again:
Myself am to myself less near. —Ibid.
In the same, the first self is proud of the second:
I myself am proud of me. —State of Innocence.
In a third, distrustful of him:
Fain I would tell, but whisper it in my ear, That none besides might hear, nay, not myself. —Earl of Essex.
In a fourth, honours him:
I honour Rome, And honour too myself. —Sophonisba.
In a fifth, at variance with him:
Leave me not thus at variance with myself. —Busiris.
Again, in a sixth:
I find myself divided from myself. —Medea.
She seemed the sad effigies of herself. —Banks.
Assist me, Zulema, if thou would'st be The friend thou seem'st, assist me against me. —Albion Queens.
From all which it appears that there are two selfs; and therefore Tom Thumb's losing himself is no such solecism as it hath been represented by men rather ambitious of criticising than qualified to criticise. ]
Hunc. Forbid it, all ye stars, for you're so small. That were you lost, you'd find yourself no more. So the unhappy sempstress once, they say, Her needle in a pottle, lost, of hay; In vain she look'd, and look'd, and made her moan, For ah, the needle was forever gone.
Par. Long may they live, and love, and propagate, Till the whole land be peopled with Tom Thumbs! [1] So, when the Cheshire cheese a maggot breeds, Another and another still succeeds: By thousands and ten thousands they increase, Till one continued maggot fills the rotten cheese.
[Footnote 1: Mr F—— imagines this parson to have been a Welsh one from his simile.]
SCENE X.—NOODLE, and then GRIZZLE.
Nood. [1] Sure, Nature means to break her solid chain, Or else unfix the world, and in a rage To hurl it from its axletree and hinges; All things are so confused, the king's in love, The queen is drunk, the princess married is.
[Footnote 1: Our author hath been plundered here, according to custom
Great nature, break thy chain that links together The fabrick of the world, and make a chaos Like that within my soul.—Love Triumphant.
——Startle Nature, unfix the globe, And hurl it from its axletree and hinges. —Albion Queens.
The tott'ring earth seems sliding off its props. ]
Griz. Oh, Noodle! Hast thou Huncamunca seen?
Nood. I have seen a thousand sights this day, where none Are by the wonderful bitch herself outdone. The king, the queen, and all the court, are sights.
Griz. [1] D—n your delay, you trifler! are you drunk, ha! I will not hear one word but Huncamunca.
[Footnote 1: D—n your delay, ye torturers, proceed; I will not hear one word but Almahide. —Conquest of Granada. ]
Nood. By this time she is married to Tom Thumb.
Griz. [1] My Huncamunca!
[Footnote 1: Mr Dryden hath imitated this in All for Love.]
Nood. Your Huncamunca, Tom Thumb's Huncamunca, every man's Huncamunca.
Griz. If this be true, all womankind are damn'd.
Nood. If it be not, may I be so myself.
Griz. See where she comes! I'll not believe a word Against that face, upon whose [1] ample brow Sits innocence with majesty enthroned.
[Footnote 1: This Miltonic style abounds in the New Sophonisba:
—And on her ample brow Sat majesty. ]
GRIZZLE, HUNCAMUNCA.
Griz. Where has my Huncamunca been? See here. The licence in my hand!
Hunc. Alas! Tom Thumb.
Griz. Why dost thou mention him?
Hunc. Ah, me! Tom Thumb.
Griz. What means my lovely Huncamunca?
Hunc. Hum!
Griz. Oh! speak.
Hunc. Hum!
Griz. Ha! your every word is hum: [1] You force me still to answer you, Tom Thumb. Tom Thumb—I'm on the rack—I'm in a flame. [2]Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb—you love the name; So pleasing is that sound, that were you dumb, You still would find a voice to cry Tom Thumb.
[Footnote 1: Your every answer still so ends in that, You force me still to answer you Morat. —Aurengzebe. ]
[Footnote 2: Morat, Morat, Morat! you love the name.—Aurengzebe.]
Hunc. Oh! be not hasty to proclaim my doom! My ample heart for more than one has room: A maid like me Heaven form'd at least for two. [1]I married him, and now I'll marry you.
[Footnote 1: "Here is a sentiment for the virtuous Huncamunca!" says Mr D——s. And yet, with the leave of this great man, the virtuous Panthea, in Cyrus, hath an heart every whit as ample:
For two I must confess are gods to me, Which is my Abradatus first, and thee.—Cyrus the Great.
Nor is the lady in Love Triumphant more reserved, though not so intelligible:
I am so divided, That I grieve most for both, and love both most. ]
Griz. Ha! dost thou own thy falsehood to my face? Think'st thou that I will share thy husband's place? Since to that office one cannot suffice, And since you scorn to dine one single dish on, Go, get your husband put into commission. Commissioners to discharge (ye gods! it fine is) The duty of a husband to your highness. Yet think not long I will my rival bear, Or unrevenged the slighted willow wear; The gloomy, brooding tempest, now confined Within the hollow caverns of my mind, In dreadful whirl shall roll along the coasts, Shall thin the land of all the men it boasts, [1] And cram up ev'ry chink of hell with ghosts. [2] So have I seen, in some dark winter's day, A sudden storm rush down the sky's highway, Sweep through the streets with terrible ding-dong, Gush through the spouts, and wash whole crouds along. The crouded shops the thronging vermin skreen, Together cram the dirty and the clean, And not one shoe-boy in the street is seen.
[Footnote 1: A ridiculous supposition to any one who considers the great and extensive largeness of hell, says a commentator; but not so to those who consider the great expansion of immaterial substance. Mr Banks makes one soul to be so expanded, that heaven could not contain it:
The heavens are all too narrow for her soul. —Virtue Betrayed.
The Persian Princess hath a passage not unlike the author of this:
We will send such shoals of murder'd slaves, Shall glut hell's empty regions.
This threatens to fill hell, even though it was empty; Lord Grizzle, only to fill up the chinks, supposing the rest already full. ]
[Footnote 2: Mr Addison is generally thought to have had this simile in his eye when he wrote that beautiful one at the end of the third act of his Cato.]
Hunc. Oh, fatal rashness! should his fury slay My helpless bridegroom on his wedding-day, I, who this morn of two chose which to wed, May go again this night alone to bed. [1] So have I seen some wild unsettled fool, Who had her choice of this and that joint-stool, To give the preference to either loth, And fondly coveting to sit on both, While the two stools her sitting-part confound, Between 'em both fall squat upon the ground.
[Footnote 1: This beautiful simile is founded on a proverb which does honour to the English language:
Between two stools the breech falls to the ground.
I am not so well pleased with any written remains of the ancients as with those little aphorisms which verbal tradition hath delivered down to us under the title of proverbs. It were to be wished that, instead of filling their pages with the fabulous theology of the pagans, our modern poets would think it worth their while to enrich their works with the proverbial sayings of their ancestors. Mr Dryden hath chronicled one in heroick;
Two ifs scarce make one possibility. —Conquest of Granada.
My lord Bacon is of opinion that whatever is known of arts and sciences might be proved to have lurked in the Proverbs of Solomon. I am of the same opinion in relation to those above-mentioned; at least I am confident that a more perfect system of ethicks, as well as oeconomy, might be compiled out of them than is at present extant, either in the works of the ancient philosophers, or those more valuable, as more voluminous ones of the modern divines. ]
ACT III.
SCENE I.—KING ARTHUR'S Palace.
[1] Ghost (solus). Hail! ye black horrors of midnight's midnoon' Ye fairies, goblins, bats, and screech-owls, hail! And, oh! ye mortal watchmen, whose hoarse throats Th' immortal ghosts dread croakings counterfeit, All hail!—Ye dancing phantoms, who, by day, Are some condemn'd to fast, some feast in fire, Now play in churchyards, skipping o'er the graves, To the [2]loud music of the silent bell, All hail!
[Footnote 1: Of all the particulars in which the modern stage falls short of the ancient, there is none so much to be lamented as the great scarcity of ghosts Whence this proceeds I will not presume to determine Some are of opinion that the moderns are unequal to that sublime language which a ghost ought to speak One says, ludicrously, that ghosts are out of fashion, another, that they are properer for comedy, forgetting, I suppose, that Aristotle hath told us that a ghost is the soul of tragedy, for so I render the [Greek text: psychae o muythos taes tragodias], which M. Dacier, amongst others, hath mistaken, I suppose, misled by not understanding the Fabula of the Latins, which signifies a ghost as well as fable.
"Te premet nox, fabulaeque manes"—Horace
Of all the ghosts that have ever appeared on the stage, a very learned and judicious foreign critick gives the preference to this of our author. These are his words speaking of this tragedy—"Nec quidquam in illa admirabilius quam phasma quoddam horrendum, quod omnibus abis spectris quibuscum scatet Angelorum tragoedia longe (pace D—ysn V Doctiss dixerim) praetulerim." ]
[Footnote 2: We have already given instances of this figure.]
SCENE II.—KING, GHOST.
King. What noise is this? What villain dares, At this dread hoar, with feet and voice profane, Disturb our royal walls?
Ghost. One who defies Thy empty power to hurt him; [1] one who dares Walk in thy bedchamber.
[Footnote 1: Almanzor reasons in the same manner:
A ghost I'll be; And from a ghost, you know, no place is free. —Conquest of Granada. ]
King. Presumptuous slave! Thou diest.
Ghost. Threaten others with that word: [1] I am a ghost, and am already dead.
[Footnote 1: "The man who writ this wretched pun," says Mr D., "would have picked your pocket:" which he proceeds to shew not only bad in itself, but doubly so on so solemn an occasion. And yet, in that excellent play of Liberty Asserted, we find something very much resembling a pun in the mouth of a mistress, who is parting with the lover she is fond of:
Ul. Oh, mortal woe! one kiss, and then farewell. Irene. The gods have given to others to fare well. O! miserably must Irene fare.
Agamemnon, in the Victim, is full as facetious on the most solemn occasion—that of sacrificing his daughter:
Yes, daughter, yes; you will assist the priest; Yes, you must offer up your vows for Greece, ]
King. Ye stars! 'tis well, Were thy last hour to come, This moment had been it; [1] yet by thy shroud I'll pull thee backward, squeeze thee to a bladder, Till thou dost groan thy nothingness away. Thou fly'st! 'Tis well. [Ghost retires. [2] I thought what was the courage of a ghost! Yet, dare not, on thy life—Why say I that, Since life thou hast not?—Dare not walk again Within these walls, on pain of the Red Sea. For, if henceforth I ever find thee here, As sure, sure as a gun, I'll have thee laid—
[Footnote 1: I'll pull thee backwards by thy shroud to light, Or else I'll squeeze thee, like a bladder, there, And make thee groan thyself away to air. —Conquest of Granada.
Snatch me, ye gods, this moment into nothing. —Cyrus the Great. ]
[Footnote 2: So, art thou gone? Thou canst no conquest boast. I thought what was the courage of a ghost. —Conquest of Granada.
King Arthur seems to be as brave a fellow as Almanzor, who says most heroically,
In spite of ghosts I'll on. ]
Ghost. Were the Red Sea a sea of Hollands gin, The liquor (when alive) whose very smell I did detest—did loathe—yet, for the sake Of Thomas Thumb, I would be laid therein.
King. Ha! said you?
Ghost. Yes, my liege, I said Tom Thumb, Whose father's ghost I am—once not unknown To mighty Arthur. But, I see, 'tis true, The dearest friend, when dead, we all forget.
King. 'Tis he—it is the honest Gaffer Thumb. Oh! let me press thee in my eager arms, Thou best of ghosts! thou something more than ghost!
Ghost. Would I were something more, that we again Might feel each other in the warm embrace. But now I have th' advantage of my king, [1] For I feel thee, whilst thou dost not feel me.
[Footnote 1: The ghost of Lausaria, in Cyrus, is a plain copy of this, and is therefore worth reading:
Ah, Cyrus! Thou may'st as well grasp water, or fleet air, As think of touching my immortal shade. —Cyrus the Great. ]
King. But say, [1] thou dearest air, oh! say what dread, Important business sends thee back to earth?
[Footnote 1: Thou better part of heavenly air. —Conquest of Granada,. ]
Ghost. Oh! then prepare to hear—which but to hear Is full enough to send thy spirit hence. Thy subjects up in arms, by Grizzle led, Will, ere the rosy-finger'd morn shall ope The shutters of the sky, before the gate Of this thy royal palace, swarming spread. [1] So have I seen the bees in clusters swarm, So have I seen the stars in frosty nights, So have I seen the sand in windy days, So have I seen the ghosts on Pluto's shore, So have I seen the flowers in spring arise, So have I seen the leaves in autumn fall, So have I seen the fruits in summer smile, So have I seen the snow in winter frown.
[Footnote 1: "A string of similes," says one, "proper to be hung up in the cabinet of a prince."]
King. D—n all thou hast seen!—dost thou, beneath the shape Of Gaffer Thumb, come hither to abuse me With similes, to keep me on the rack? Hence—or, by all the torments of thy hell, [1] I'll run thee through the body, though thou'st none.
[Footnote 1: This passage hath been understood several different ways by the commentators. For my part, I find it difficult to understand it at all. Mr Dryden says—
I've heard something how two bodies meet, But how two souls join I know not.
So that, till the body of a spirit be better understood, it will be difficult to understand how it is possible to run him through it. ]
Ghost. Arthur, beware! I must this moment hence, Not frighted by your voice, but by the cocks! Arthur, beware, beware, beware, beware! Strive to avert thy yet impending fate; For, if thou'rt kill'd to-day, To-morrow all thy care will come too late.
SCENE III.—KING (solus).
King. Oh! stay, and leave me not uncertain thus! And, whilst thou tellest me what's like my fate, Oh! teach me how I may avert it too! Curst be the man who first a simile made! Curst ev'ry bard who writes!—So have I seen Those whose comparisons are just and true, And those who liken things not like at all. The devil is happy that the whole creation Can furnish out no simile to his fortune.
SCENE IV.—KING, QUEEN.
Queen. What is the cause, my Arthur, that you steal Thus silently from Dollallolla's breast? Why dost thou leave me in the [1] dark alone, When well thou know'st I am afraid of sprites?
[Footnote 1: Cydaria is of the same fearful temper with Dollallolla.
I never durst in darkness be alone. —Indian Emperor. ]
King. Oh, Dollallolla! do not blame my love! I hop'd the fumes of last night's punch had laid Thy lovely eyelids fast.—But, oh! I find There is no power in drams to quiet wives; Each morn, as the returning sun, they wake, And shine upon their husbands.
Queen. Think, oh think! What a surprise it must be to the sun, Rising, to find the vanish'd world away. What less can be the wretched wife's surprise When, stretching out her arms to fold thee fast, She found her useless bolster in her arms. [1] Think, think, on that.—Oh! think, think well on that. I do remember also to have read [2] In Dryden's Ovid's Metamorphoses, That Jove in form inanimate did lie With beauteous Danae: and, trust me, love, [3] I fear'd the bolster might have been a Jove.
[Footnote 1: Think well of this, think that, think every way.—Sophon.]
[Footnote 2: These quotations are more usual in the comick than in the tragick writers.]
[Footnote 3: "This distress," says Mr D—, "I must allow to be extremely beautiful, and tends to heighten the virtuous character of Dollallolla, who is so exceeding delicate, that she is in the highest apprehension from the inanimate embrace of a bolster. An example worthy of imitation for all our writers of tragedy."]
King. Come to my arms, most virtuous of thy sex! Oh, Dollallolla! were all wives like thee, So many husbands never had worn horns. Should Huncamunca of thy worth partake, Tom Thumb indeed were blest.—Oh, fatal name, For didst thou know one quarter what I know, Then would'st thou know—Alas! what thou would'st know!
Queen. What can I gather hence? Why dost thou speak Like men who carry rareeshows about? "Now you shall see, gentlemen, what you shall see." O, tell me more, or thou hast told too much.
SCENE V.—KING, QUEEN, NOODLE.
Nood. Long life attend your majesties serene, Great Arthur, king, and Dollallolla, queen! Lord Grizzle, with a bold rebellious crowd, Advances to the palace, threat'ning loud, Unless the princess be deliver'd straight, And the victorious Thumb, without his pate, They are resolv'd to batter down the gate.
SCENE VI.—KING, QUEEN, HUNCAMUNCA, NOODLE.
King. See where the princess comes! Where is Tom Thumb?
Hunc. Oh! sir, about an hour and half ago He sallied out t' encounter with the foe, And swore, unless his fate had him misled, From Grizzle's shoulders to cut off his head, And serve't up with your chocolate in bed.
King. 'Tis well, I found one devil told us both. Come, Dollallolla, Huncamunca, come; Within we'll wait for the victorious Thumb; In peace and safety we secure may stay, While to his arm we trust the bloody fray; Though men and giants should conspire with gods, [1] He is alone equal to all these odds.
[Footnote 1: "Credat Judaeus Appella, Non ego,"
says Mr D—. "For, passing over the absurdity of being equal to odds, can we possibly suppose a little insignificant fellow—I say again, a little insignificant fellow—able to vie with a strength which all the Samsons and Herculeses of antiquity would be unable to encounter?" I shall refer this incredulous critick to Mr Dryden's defence of his Almanzor; and, lest that should not satisfy him, I shall quote a few lines from the speech of a much braver fellow than Almanzor, Mr Johnson's Achilles:
Though human race rise in embattled hosts, To force her from my arms—Oh! son of Atreus! By that immortal pow'r, whose deathless spirit Informs this earth, I will oppose them all.—Victim. ]
Queen. He is, indeed,[1] a helmet to us all; While he supports we need not fear to fall; His arm despatches all things to our wish? And serves up ev'ry foe's head in a dish. Void is the mistress of the house of care, While the good cook presents the bill of fare; Whether the cod, that northern king of fish, Or duck, or goose, or pig, adorn the dish, No fears the number of her guests afford, But at her hour she sees the dinner on the board.
[Footnote 1: "I have heard of being supported by a staff," says Mr D., "but never of being supported by a helmet." I believe he never heard of sailing with wings, which he may read in no less a poet than Mr Dryden:
Unless we borrow wings, and sail through air. —Love Triumphant.
What will he say to a kneeling valley?
——I'll stand Like a safe valley, that low bends the knee To some aspiring mountain. —Injured Love.
I am ashamed of so ignorant a carper, who doth not know that an epithet in tragedy is very often no other than an expletive. Do not we read in the New Sophonisba of "grinding chains, blue plagues, white occasions, and blue serenity?" Nay, it is not the adjective only, but sometimes half a sentence is put by way of expletive, as, "Beauty pointed high with spirit," in the same play; and, "In the lap of blessing, to be most curst," in the Revenge. ]
SCENE VII.—Plain.—GRIZZLE, FOODLE, Rebels.
Griz. Thus far our arms with victory are crown'd; For, though we have not fought, yet we have found [1] No enemy to fight withal.
[Footnote 1: A victory like that of Almanzor: Almanzor is victorious without fight.—Conq. of Granada. ]
Food. Yet I, Methinks, would willingly avoid this day, [1] This first of April, to engage our foes.
[Footnote 1: Well have we chose an happy day for fight; For every man, in course of time, has found Some days are lucky, some unfortunate.—King Arthur. ]
Griz. This day, of all the days of th' year, I'd choose, For on this day my grandmother was born. Gods! I will make Tom Thumb an April-fool; [1] Will teach his wit an errand it ne'er knew, And send it post to the Elysian shades.
[Footnote 1: We read of such another in Lee: Teach his rude wit a flight she never made, And send her post to the Elysian shade.—Gloriana. ]
Food. I'm glad to find our army is so stout, Nor does it move my wonder less than joy.
Griz. [1] What friends we have, and how we came so strong, I'll softly tell you as we march along.
[Footnote 1: These lines are copied verbatim in the Indian Emperor.]
SCENE VIII.—Thunder and Lightning.—TOM THUMB, GLUMDALCA, cum suis.
Thumb. Oh, Noodle! hast thou seen a day like this? [1] The unborn thunder rumbles o'er our heads, [2] As if the gods meant to unhinge the world, And heaven and earth in wild confusion hurl; Yet will I boldly tread the tott'ring ball.
[Footnote 1: Unborn thunder rolling in a cloud.—Conq. of Granada. ]
[Footnote 2:
Were heaven and earth in wild confusion hurl'd, Should the rash gods unhinge the rolling world, Undaunted would I tread the tott'ring ball, Crush'd, but unconquer'd, in the dreadful fall. —Female Warrior. ]
Merl. Tom Thumb!
Thumb. What voice is this I hear?
Merl. Tom Thumb!
Thumb. Again it calls.
Merl. Tom Thumb!
Glum. It calls again.
Thumb. Appear, whoe'er thou art; I fear thee not.
Merl. Thou hast no cause to fear—I am thy friend, Merlin by name, a conjuror by trade, And to my art thou dost thy being owe.
Thumb. How!
Merl. Hear, then, the mystick getting of Tom Thumb.
[1] His father was a ploughman plain, His mother milk'd the cow; And yet the way to get a son This couple knew not how, Until such time the good old man To learned Merlin goes, And there to him, in great distress, In secret manner shows How in his heart he wish'd to have A child, in time to come, To be his heir, though it may be No bigger than his thumb: Of which old Merlin was foretold That he his wish should have; And so a son of stature small The charmer to him gave.
Thou'st heard the past—look up and see the future.
[Footnote 1: See the History of Tom Thumb, page 2.]
Thumb. [1] Lost in amazement's gulf, my senses sink; See there, Glumdalca, see another [2] me!
[Footnote 1: Amazement swallows up my sense, And in the impetuous whirl of circling fate Drinks down my reason.—Persian Princess. ]
[Footnote 2: I have outfaced myself. What! am I two? Is there another me?—King Arthur. ]
Glum. Oh, sight of horror! see, you are devour'd By the expanded jaws of a red cow.
Merl. Let not these sights deter thy noble mind, [1] For, lo! a sight more glorious courts thy eyes. See from afar a theatre arise; There ages, yet unborn, shall tribute pay To the heroick actions of this day; Then buskin tragedy at length shall chuse Thy name the best supporter of her muse.
[Footnote 1: The character of Merlin is wonderful throughout; but most so in this prophetick part. We find several of these prophecies in the tragick authors, who frequently take this opportunity to pay a compliment to their country, and sometimes to their prince. None but our author (who seems to have detested the least appearance of flattery) would have past by such an opportunity of being a political prophet.]
Thumb. Enough: let every warlike musick sound, We fall contented, if we fall renown'd.
SCENE IX.—LORD GRIZZLE, FOODLE, Rebels, on one side; TOM THUMB, GLUMDALCA, on the other.
Food. At length the enemy advances nigh, [1] I hear them with my ear, and see them with my eye.
[Footnote 1: I saw the villain, Myron; with these eyes I saw him. —Busiris.
In both which places it is intimated that it is sometimes possible to see with other eyes than your own. ]
Griz. Draw all your swords: for liberty we fight, [1] And liberty the mustard is of life.
[Footnote 1: "This mustard," says Mr D., "is enough to turn one's stomach. I would be glad to know what idea the author had in his head when he wrote it." This will be, I believe, best explained by a line of Mr Dennis:
And gave him liberty, the salt of life.—Liberty Asserted.
The understanding that can digest the one will not rise at the other.]
Thumb. Are you the man whom men famed Grizzle name?
Griz. [1] Are you the much more famed Tom Thumb?
[Footnote 1: Han. Are you the chief whom men famed Scipio call? Scip. Are you the much more famous Hannibal? —Hannibal. ]
Thumb. The same.
Griz. Come on; our worth upon ourselves we'll prove; For liberty I fight.
Thumb. And I for love.
[A bloody engagement between the two armies here; drums beating, trumpets sounding, thunder and lightning. They fight off and on several times. Some fall. GRIZ. and GLUM. remain.
Glum. Turn, coward, turn; nor from a woman fly.
Griz. Away—thou art too ignoble for my arm.
Glum. Have at thy heart.
Griz. Nay, then I thrust at thine.
Glum. You push too well; you've run me through the guts, And I am dead.
Griz. Then there's an end of one.
Thumb_. When thou art dead, then there's an end of two, [1] Villain.
[Footnote 1: Dr. Young seems to have copied this engagement in his Busiris:
Myr. Villain! Mem. Myron! Myr. Rebel! Mem. Myron! Myr. Hell! Mem. Mandane! ]
Griz. Tom Thumb!
Thumb. Rebel!
Griz. Tom Thumb!
Thumb. Hell!
Griz. Huncamunca!
Thumb. Thou hast it there.
Griz. Too sure I feel it.
Thumb. To hell then, like a rebel as you are, And give my service to the rebels there.
Griz. Triumph not, Thumb, nor think thou shalt enjoy, Thy Huncamunca undisturb'd; I'll send [1] My ghost to fetch her to the other world; [2] It shall but bait at heaven, and then return. [3] But, ha! I feel death rumbling in my brains: [4] Some kinder sprite knocks softly at my soul, And gently whispers it to haste away. I come, I come, most willingly I come. [5] So when some city wife, for country air, To Hampstead or to Highgate does repair, Her to make haste her husband does implore, And cries, "My dear, the coach is at the door:" With equal wish, desirous to be gone, She gets into the coach, and then she cries—"Drive on!"
[Footnote 1: This last speech of my lord Grizzle hath been of great service to our poets:
I'll hold it fast As life, and when life's gone I'll hold this last; And if thou tak'st it from me when I'm slain, I'll send my ghost, and fetch it back again. —Conquest of Granada. ]
[Footnote 2: My soul should with such speed obey, It should not bait at heaven to stop its way.
Lee seems to have had this last in his eye:
'Twas not my purpose, sir, to tarry there; I would but go to heaven to take the air.—Gloriana. ]
[Footnote 3: A rising vapour rumbling in my brains.—Cleomenes. ]
[Footnote 4: Some kind sprite knocks softly at my soul, To tell me fate's at hand. ]
[Footnote 5: Mr Dryden seems to have had this simile in his eye, when he says,
My soul is packing up, and just on wing. —Conquest of Granada. ]
Thumb. With those last words [1] he vomited his soul, Which, [2] like whipt cream, the devil will swallow down. Bear off the body, and cut off the head, Which I will to the king in triumph lug. Rebellion's dead, and now I'll go to breakfast.
[Footnote 1: And in a purple vomit pour'd his soul —Cleomenes. ]
[Footnote 2: The devil swallows vulgar souls Like whipt cream. —Sebastian. ]
SCENE X.—KING, QUEEN, HUNCAMUNCA, Courtiers.
King. Open the prisons, set the wretched free, And bid our treasurer disburse six pounds To pay their debts.—Let no one weep to-day. Come, Dollallolla; [1] curse that odious name! It is so long, it asks an hour to speak it. By heavens! I'll change it into Doll, or Loll, Or any other civil monosyllable,
That will not tire my tongue.—Come, sit thee down. Here seated let us view the dancers' sports; Bid 'em advance. This is the wedding-day Of Princess Huncamunca and Tom Thumb; Tom Thumb! who wins two victories [2] to-day, And this way marches, bearing Grizzle's head.
[A dance here.
[Footnote 1: How I could curs my name of Ptolemy! It is so long, it asks an hour to write it, By Heaven! I'll change it into Jove or Mars! Or any other civil monosyllable, That will not tire my hand. —Cleomenes. ]
[Footnote 2: Here is a visible conjunction of two days in one, by which our author may have either intended an emblem of a wedding, or to insinuate that men in the honey-moon are apt to imagine time shorter than it is. It brings into my mind a passage in the comedy called the Coffee-House Politician: We will celebrate this day at my house to-morrow. ]
Nood. Oh! monstrous, dreadful, terrible, oh! oh! Deaf be my ears, for ever blind my eyes! Dumb be my tongue! feet lame! all senses lost! [1] Howl wolves, grunt bears, hiss snakes, shriek all ye 'ghosts!
[Footnote 1: These beautiful phrases are all to be found in one single speech of King Arthur, or the British Worthy.]
King. What does the blockhead mean?
Nood. I mean, my liege, [1] Only to grace my tale with decent horror. Whilst from my garret, twice two stories high, I look'd abroad into the streets below, I saw Tom Thumb attended by the mob; Twice twenty shoe-boys, twice two dozen links, Chairmen and porters, hackney-coachmen, whores; Aloft he bore the grizly head of Grizzle; When of a sudden through the streets there came A cow, of larger than the usual size, And in a moment—guess, oh! guess the rest!— And in a moment swallow'd up Tom Thumb.
[Footnote 1: I was but teaching him to grace his tale With decent horror. —Cleomenes. ]
King. Shut up again the prisons, bid my treasurer Not give three farthings out-hang all the culprits, Guilty or not—no matter.—Ravish virgins: Go bid the schoolmasters whip all their boys! Let lawyers, parsons, and physicians loose, To rob, impose on, and to kill the world.
Nood. Her majesty the queen is in a swoon.
Queen. Not so much in a swoon but I have still Strength to reward the messenger of ill news.
[Kills NOODLE.
Nood. O! I am slain.
Cle. My lover's kill'd, I will revenge him so. [Kills the QUEEN.
Hunc. My mamma kill'd! vile murderess, beware. [Kills CLEORA.
Dood. This for an old grudge to thy heart. [Kills HUNCAMUNCA.
Must. And this I drive to thine, O Doodle! for a new one. [Kills DOODLE.
King. Ha! murderess vile, take that. [Kills MUST. [1] And take thou this. [Kills himself, and falls. So when the child, whom nurse from danger guards, Sends Jack for mustard with a pack of cards, Kings, queens, and knaves, throw one another down, Till the whole pack lies scatter'd and o'erthrown; So all our pack upon the floor is cast, And all I boast is—that I fall the last. [Dies.
[Footnote 1: We may say with Dryden,
Death did at length so many slain forget, And left the tale, and took them by the great.
I know of no tragedy which comes nearer to this charming and bloody catastrophe than Cleomenes, where the curtain covers five principal characters dead on the stage. These lines too—
I ask no questions then, of who kill'd who? The bodies tell the story as they lie—
seem to have belonged more properly to this scene of our author; nor can I help imagining they were originally his, The Rival Ladies, too, seem beholden to this scene:
We're now a chain of lovers link'd in death; Julia goes first, Gonsalvo hangs on her, And Angelina hangs upon Gonsalvo, As I on Angelina.
No scene, I believe, ever received greater honours than this. It was applauded by several encores, a word very unusual in tragedy. And it was very difficult for the actors to escape without a second slaughter. This I take to be a lively assurance of that fierce spirit of liberty which remains among us, and which Mr Dryden, in his essay on Dramatick Poetry, hath observed: "Whether custom," says he, "hath so insinuated itself into our countrymen, or nature hath so formed them to fierceness, I know not; but they will scarcely suffer combats and other objects of horror to be taken from them." And indeed I am for having them encouraged in this martial disposition; nor do I believe our victories over the French have been owing to anything more than to those bloody spectacles daily exhibited in our tragedies, of which the French stage is so intirely clear. ]
* * * * *
PASQUIN;
A DRAMATICK SATIRE ON THE TIMES
BEING THE REHEARSAL OF TWO PLAYS: VIZ.,
A COMEDY CALLED
THE ELECTION,
AND A TRAGEDY CALLED
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COMMON SENSE.
FIRST ACTED IN APRIL 1736.
DRAMATIS PERSONAe.
Trapwit, Author . . . . . . . . . Mr ROBERTS, Fustian, Author . . . . . . . . . Mr LACY. Sneerwell (a critick) . . . . . . Mr MACHEN.
Several Players and Prompter.
PERSONS IN THE COMEDY.
Lord Place, Candidate . . . . . Mrs CHARKE, Colonel Promise, Candidate . . Mr FREEMAN, Sir Henry Fox-Chace, Candidate . . Mr TOPHAM, Squire Tankard, Candidate . . . Mr SMITH, Mayor . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr JONES. Aldermen, Voters, &c. Mrs Mayoress . . . . . . . . . Mrs EGERTON. Miss Mayoress . . . . . . . . . Miss J. JONES. Miss Stitch . . . . . . . . . . Miss BURGESS. Servants, Mob, &c.
PERSONS IN THE TRAGEDY.
Queen Common-Sense . . . . . . Mrs EGERTON. Queen Ignorance . . . . . . . . Mr STRENSHAM. Firebrand (Priest of the Sun) . Mr ROBERTS. Law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr YATES. Physick . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr JONES. Ghost of Tragedy . . . . . . . Mr PULLEN. Ghost of Comedy . . . . . . . . Mr JONES. Third Ghost . . . . . . . . . . Mr WALLIS. Harlequin . . . . . . . . . . . Mr PULLEN. Officer . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr PULLEN. Messenger . . . . . . . . . . . Mr WALLIS. Drummer . . . . . . . . . . . . Mr LOWDER. Attendants on Ignorance, Maids of Honour, &c.
SCENE, the Play-House.
ACT I.
SCENE I.—Enter several Players.
1 Play. When does the rehearsal begin?
2 Play. I suppose we shall hardly rehearse the comedy this morning, for the author was arrested as he was going home from King's coffee-house; and, as I heard it was for upward of four pound, I suppose he will hardly get bail.
1 Play. Where's the tragedy-author then? I have a long part in both, and it's past ten o'clock.
Wom. P. Ay, I have a part in both too; I wish any one else had them, for they are not seven lengths put together. I think it is very hard a woman of my standing should have a short part put upon her. I suppose Mrs Merit will have all our principal parts now, but I am resolved I'll advertise against her. I'll let the town know how I am injured.
1 Play. Oh! here comes our tragedy-poet.
Enter FUSTIAN.
Fust. Gentlemen, your servant; ladies, yours. I should have been here sooner, but I have been obliged, at their own requests, to wait upon some half-dozen persons of the first quality with tickets: upon my soul 1 have been chid for putting off my play so long. I hope you are all quite perfect, for the town will positively stay for it no longer. I think I may very well put upon the bills, At the particular desire of several ladles of quality, the first night.
Enter Prompter.
Promp. Mr Fustian, we must defer the rehearsal of your tragedy, for the gentleman who plays the first ghost is not yet up; and when he is, he has got such a churchyard-cough he will not be heard to the middle of the pit.
1 Play. I wish you could cut the ghost out, sir, for I am terribly afraid he'll be damned if you don't.
Fust. Cut him out, sir? He is one of the most considerable persons in the play.
Promp. Then, sir, you must give the part to somebody else; for the present is so lame he can hardly walk the stage.
Fust. Then he shall be carried, for no man in England can act a ghost like him. Sir, he was born a ghost—he was made for the part—and the part writ for him.
Promp. Well, sir, then we hope you will give us leave to rehearse the comedy first.
Fust. Ay, ay, you may rehearse it first, if you please, and act it first too. If it keeps mine back above three nights, I am mistaken. I don't know what friends the author may have; but if ever such stuff, such damned, incoherent, senseless stuff, was ever brought on any stage—if the audience suffer it to go through three acts—Oh! he's here.
Enter TRAPWIT.
Dear Mr Trapwit! your most humble servant, sir; I read your comedy over last night, and a most excellent one it is: if it runs as long as it deserves you will engross the whole season to yourself.
Trap. Sir, I am glad it met with your approbation, as there is no man whose taste and judgment I have a better opinion of. But pray, sir, why don't they proceed to the rehearsal of your tragedy? I assure you, sir, I had much difficulty to get hither so early.
2 Play. Yes, faith, I believe you had. [Aside.
Fust. Sir, your comedy is to be rehearsed first.
Trap. Excuse me, sir, I know the deference due to tragedy better.
Fust. Sir, I would not have you think I give up the cause of tragedy; but my ghost, being ill, sir, cannot get up without danger, and I would not risque the life of my ghost on any account.
Trap. You are in the right on't, sir; for a ghost is the soul of tragedy.
Fust. Ay, sir, I think it is not amiss to remind people of those things which they are now-a-days too apt to disbelieve; besides, we have lately had an act against witches, and I don't question but shortly we shall have one against ghosts. But come, Mr Trapwit, as we are for this once to give the precedence to comedy, e'en let us begin.
Trap. Ay, ay, with all my heart. Come, come, where's the gentleman who speaks the prologue? This prologue, Mr Fustian, was given me by a friend, who does not care to own it till he tries whether it succeeds or no.
Enter Player for the Prologue.
Come, sir, make a very low bow to the audience; and shew as much concern as possible in your looks.
PROLOGUE.
As crafty lawyers, to acquire applause, Try various arts to get a doubtful cause; Or, as a dancing master in a jigg, With various steps instructs the dancing prig; Or as a doctor writes you different bills; Or as a quack prescribes you different pills; Or as a fiddler plays more tunes than one; Or as a baker bakes more bread than brown; Or as a tumbler tumbles up and down; So does our author, rummaging his brain, By various methods try to entertain; Brings a strange groupe of characters before you, And shews you here at once both Whig and Tory; Or court and country party you may call 'em: But without fear and favour he will maul 'em. To you, then, mighty sages of the pit—
Trap. Oh! dear sir, seem a little more affected, I beseech you; advance to the front of the stage, make a low bow, lay your hand upon your heart, fetch a deep sigh, and pull out your handkerchief: To you, then, mighty sages of the pit—
Prol. To you, then, mighty sages of the pit, Our author humbly does his cause submit. He trys to please—oh! take it not amiss: And though it should be dull, oh! do not hiss; Laugh, if you can—if you cannot laugh, weep: When you can wake no longer—fall asleep.
Trap. Very well! very well, sir! You have affected me, I am sure.
Fust. And so he will the audience, I'll answer for them.
Trap. Oh, sir, you're too good-natured; but, sir, I do assure you I had writ a much better prologue of my own; but, as this came gratis, have reserved it for my next play—a prologue saved is a prologue got, brother Fustian. But come, where are your actors? Is Mr Mayor and the Aldermen at the table?
Promp. Yes, sir; but they want wine, and we can get none from the quaker's cellar without ready money.
Trap. Rat him! can't he trust till the third night? Here, take sixpence, and fetch two pots of porter, put it into bottles, and it will do for wine well enough.
Fust. Ay, faith, and the wine will be as good as the wit, I'll answer for it. [Aside.
Trap. Mr Fustian, you'll observe I do not begin this play, like most of our modern comedies, with three or four gentlemen who are brought on only to talk wit; for, to tell you the truth, sir, I have very little, if any, wit in this play. No, sir, this is a play consisting of humour, nature, and simplicity. It is written, sir, in the exact and true spirit of Moliere: and this I will say for it, that, except about a dozen, or a score or so, there is not one impure joke in it. But come, clear the stage, and draw the back scene! Mr Fustian, if you please to sit down by me.
[Mayor and Aldermen discovered.
Fust. Pray, sir, who are these characters?
Trap. Sir, they are Mr Mayor of the town and his brethren, consulting about the election.
Fust. Are they all of a side, sir?
Trap. Yes, sir, as yet; for you must know, sir, that all the men in this borough are very sensible people, and have no party principles for which they cannot give a good reason; Mr Mayor, you begin the play.
May. Gentlemen, I have summoned you together to consider of proper representatives for this borough: you know the candidates on the court side are my lord Place and colonel Promise; the country candidates are Sir Henry Fox-chace and squire Tankard; all worthy gentlemen, and I wish with all my heart we could chuse them all four.
1 Ald. But since we cannot, Mr Mayor, I think we should stand by our neighbours; gentlemen whose honesty we are witnesses of, and whose estates in our own neighbourhood render 'em not liable to be bribed.
Fust. This gentleman, Mr Trapwit, does not seem so unbiassed in his principles as you represented him.
Trap. Pugh, sir! you must have one fool in a play; beside, I only writ him to set off the rest.
May. Mr Alderman, you have a narrow way of thinking; honesty is not confined to a country; a man that lives a hundred miles off may be as honest as him who lives but three.
Ald. Ay, ay, ay, ay. [Shaking their heads.
May. Besides, gentlemen, are we not more obliged to a foreigner for the favours he does us than to one of our own neighbours who has obligations to us? I believe, gentlemen, there is not one of us who does not eat and drink with Sir Harry at least twenty times in a twelvemonth; now, for my part, I never saw or heard of either my lord or the colonel till within this fortnight; and yet they are as obliging, and civil and familiar, as if we had been born and bred together.
1 Ald. Nay, they are very civil, well-bred men, that is the truth on't; but won't they bring a standing army upon us?
May. Mr Alderman, you are deceived; the country party will bring a standing army upon us; whereas, if we chuse my lord and the colonel, we shan't have a soldier in town. But, mum! here are my lord and the colonel.
Enter Lord PLACE and Col. PROMISE.
Place. Gentlemen, your most humble servant; I have brought the colonel to take a morning's whet with you.
May. Your lordship and the colonel do us great honour; pray, my lord, be pleased to sit down; pray, colonel, be pleased to sit. More wine here.
Fust. I wish, Mr Trapwit, your actors don't get drunk in the first act.
Trap. Dear sir, don't interrupt the rehearsal.
Place. Gentlemen, prosperity to the corporation!
Fust. Sir, I am a well-wisher to the corporation, and, if you please, will pledge his lordship:—success to your comedy, Mr Trapwit. [Drinks.
Trap. Give me a glass—sir, here's to your tragedy. Now, pray, no more interruption; for this scene is one continual joke, and if you open your lips in it you will break the thread of the jest.
May. My lord, we are sensible of your great power to serve this corporation, and we do not doubt but we shall feel the effect on't.
Place. Gentlemen, you may depend on me; I shall do all in my power. I shall do you some services which are not proper at present to mention to you; in the meantime, Mr Mayor, give me leave to squeeze you by the hand, in assurance of my sincerity.
Trap. You, Mr, that act my lord, bribe a little more openly, if you please, or the audience will lose that joke, and it is one of the strongest in my whole play.
Place. Sir, I cannot possibly do it better at the table.
Trap. Then get all up, and come forward to the front of the stage. Now, you gentlemen that act the mayor and aldermen, range yourselves in a line; and you, my lord and the colonel, come to one end and bribe away with right and left.
Fust. Is this wit, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. Yes, sir, it is wit; and such wit as will run all over the kingdom.
Fust. But, methinks, colonel Promise, as you call him, is but ill-named; for he is a man of very few words.
Trap. You'll be of another opinion before the play is over; at present his hands are too full of business; and you may remember, sir, I before told you this is none of your plays wherein much is said and nothing done. Gentlemen, are you all bribed?
Omnes. Yes, sir.
Trap. Then, my lord and the colonel, you must go off, and make room for the other candidates to come on and bribe too. [Exeunt PLACE and PROMISE.
Fust. Is there nothing but bribery in this play of yours, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. Sir, this play is an exact representation of nature; I hope the audience will date the time of action before the bill of bribery and corruption took place; and then I believe it may go down; but now, Mr Fustian, I shall shew you the art of a writer, which is, to diversify his matter, and do the same thing several ways. You must know, sir, I distinguish bribery into two kinds, the direct and the indirect: the first you have seen already; and now, sir, I shall give you a small specimen of the other. Prompter, call Sir Harry and the squire. But, gentlemen, what are you doing? How often shall I tell you that the moment the candidates are gone out you are to retire to the table, and drink and look wise; you, Mr Mayor, ought to look very wise.
Fust. You'll take care he shall talk foolish enough, I'll warrant you. [Aside.
May. Come, here's a round to my lord and the colonel's health; a Place and a Promise, I say; they may talk of the pride of courtiers, but I am sure I never had a civiller squeeze by the hand in my life.
Trap. Ay, you have squeezed that out pretty well: but shew the gold at these words, sir, if you please.
May. I have none.
Trap. Pray, Mr Prompter, take care to get some counters against it is acted.
Fust. Ha, ha, ha! upon my word the courtiers have topt their part; the actor has outdone the author; this bribing with an empty hand is quite in the character of a courtier.
Trap. Come, enter Sir Harry and the squire. Where are they?
I Play. Sir, Mr Soundwell has been regularly summoned, but he has refused to act the part.
Trap. Has he been writ to?
I Play. Yes, sir, and here's his answer.
Trap. Let both the letters be produced before the audience. Pray, Mr Prompter, who shall we have to act the part?
I Play. Sir, I like the part so well that I have studied it in the hope of some time playing it.
Trap. You are an exceeding pretty young fellow, and I am very glad of the exchange.
Sir H. Halloo, hark forwards: hark, honest Ned, good-morrow to you; how dost, Master Mayor? What, you are driving it about merrily this morning? Come, come, sit down; the squire and I will take a pot with you. Come, Mr Mayor, here's—liberty and property and no excise.
May. Sir Harry, your health.
Sir H. What, won't you pledge me? Won't you drink no excise?
May. I don't love party healths, Sir Harry.
All Ald. No, no; no party healths, no party healths.
Sir H. Say ye so, gentlemen? I begin to smoke you; your pulses have been felt, I perceive: and will you be bribed to sell your country? Where do you think these courtiers get the money they bribe you with, but from yourselves? Do you think a man who will give a bribe won't take one? If you would be served faithfully, you must choose faithfully, and give your vote on no consideration but merit; for my part, I would as soon suborn an evidence at an assize as a vote at an election.
May. I do believe you, Sir Harry.
Sir H. Mr Mayor, I hope you received those three bucks I sent you, and that they were good.
May. Sir Harry, I thank you for them; but 'tis so long since I eat them that I have forgot the taste.
Sir H. We'll try to revive it—I'll order you three more to-morrow morning.
May. You will surfeit us with venison: you will indeed; for it is a dry meat, Sir Harry, a very dry meat.
Sir H. We'll find a way to moisten it, I'll warrant you, if there be any wine in town. Mr Alderman Stitch, your bill is too reasonable; you certainly must lose by it: send me in half a dozen more greatcoats, pray; my servants are the dirtiest dogs! Mr Damask, I believe you are afraid to trust me, by those few yards of silk you sent my wife; she likes the pattern so extremely she is resolved to hang her rooms with it; pray let me have a hundred yards of it; I shall want more of you. Mr Timber, and you, Mr Iron, I shall get into your books too.
Fust. Would not that getting into books have been more in the character of the courtier, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. Go on, go on, sir.
Sir H. That gentleman interrupts one so.—Oh, now I remember—Mr Timber, and you Mr Iron, I shall get into your books too; though if I do, I assure you I won't continue in them long.
Trap. Now, sir, would it have been more in the character of a courtier? But you are like all our modern criticks, who damn a man before they have heard a man out; when, if they would but stay till the joke came—
Fust. They would stay to hear your last words, I believe. [Aside.
Sir H. For you must know, gentlemen, that I intend to pull down my old house, and build a new one.
Trap. Pray, gentlemen, observe all to start at the word house. Sir Harry, that last speech again, pray.
Sir H. For you, &c.——Mr Mayor, I must have all my bricks of you.
May. And do you intend to rebuild your house, Sir Harry?
Sir H. Positively.
May. Gentlemen, methinks Sir Harry's toast stands still; will nobody drink liberty and property, and no excise? [They all drink and huzza.
Sir H. Give me thy hand, mayor; I hate bribery and corruption: if this corporation will not suffer itself to be bribed, there shall not be a poor man in it.
May. And he that will, deserves to be poor; for my part, the world should not bribe me to vote against my conscience.
Trap. Do you take that joke, sir?
Fust. No, faith, sir.
Trap. Why, how can a man vote against his conscience who has no conscience at all?
1 Ald. Come, gentlemen, here's a Fox-chace and a Tankard!
Omnes. A Fox-chace and a Tankard! huzza!
Sir H. Come, let's have one turn in the marketplace, and then we'll to dinner.
May. Let's fill the air with our repeated cries Of liberty, and property, and no excise.
[Exeunt Mayor and Aldermen.
Trap. How do you like that couplet, sir?
Fust. Oh! very fine, sir!
Trap. This is the end of the first act, sir.
Fust. I cannot but observe, Mr Trapwit, how nicely you have opposed squire Tankard to colonel Promise; neither of whom have yet uttered one syllable.
Trap. Why, you would not have every man a speaker, would you? One of a side is sufficient; and let me tell you, sir, one is full enough to utter all that the party has to say for itself.
Fust. Methinks, sir, you should let the audience know they can speak, if it were but an ay or a no.
Trap. Sir, the audience must know that already; for if they could not say ay and no, they would not be qualified for candidates.
Fust. Oh! your humble servant, I am answered; but pray, sir, what is the action of this play?
Trap. The action, sir?
Fust. Yes, sir, the fable, the design?
Trap. Oh! you ask who is to be married? Why, sir, I have a marriage; I hope you think I understand the laws of comedy better than to write without marrying somebody.
Fust. But is that the main design to which everything conduces?
Trap. Yes, sir.
Fust. Faith, sir, I can't for the soul of me see how what has hitherto past can conduce at all to that end.
Trap. You can't? indeed, I believe you can't; for that is the whole plot of my play: and do you think I am like your shallow writers of comedy, who publish the bans of marriage between all the couples in their play in the first act? No, sir, I defy you to guess my couple till the thing is done, slap all at once; and that too by an incident arising from the main business of the play, and to which everything conduces.
Fust. That will, indeed, surprise me.
Trap. Sir, you are not the first man my writings have surprised. But what's become of all our players?—Here, who begins the second act?—Prompter!
Enter 1st Player.
I Play. Sir, the prompter and most of the players are drinking tea in the green-room.
Trap. Mr Fustian, shall we drink a dish of tea with them? Come, sir, as you have a part in my play, you shall drink a dish with us.
I Play. Sir, I dare not go into the green-room; my salary is not high enough: I shall be forfeited if I go in there.
Trap. Pshaw! come along; your sister has merit enough for herself and you too: if they forfeit you, I'll warrant she'll take it off again.
ACT II.
SCENE I.—Enter TRAPWIT, FUSTIAN, Prompter, Lord PLACE, Mrs and Miss Mayoress.
Trap. I am afraid, Mr Fustian, you have hitherto suspected that I was a dabbler in low comedy; now, sir, you shall see some scenes of politeness and fine conversation among the ladies. Come, my lord, come, begin.
Place. Pray, Mrs Mayoress, what do you think this lace cost a yard?
Fust. A very pretty beginning of polite conversation, truly.
Trap. Sir, in this play I keep exactly up to nature, nor is there anything said in this scene that I have not heard come out of the mouths of the finest people of the age. Sir, this scene has cost me ten shillings in chair-hire, to keep the best company, as it is called.
Mrs M. Indeed, my lord, I cannot guess it at less than ten pounds a yard.
Place. Pray, madam, was you at the last ridotto?
Fust. Ridotto! the devil! a country mayoress at a ridotto! Sure, that is out of character, Mr Trapwit!
Trap. Sir, a conversation of this nature cannot be earned on without these helps; besides, sir, this country mayoress, as you call her, may be allowed to know something of the town; for you must know, sir, that she has been woman to a woman of quality.
Fust. I am glad to hear that.
Mrs M. Oh, my lord! mention not those dear ridottos to me, who have been confined these twelve long months in the country; where we have no entertainment but a set of hideous strolling players; nor have I seen any one human creature till your lordship came to town. Heaven send us a controverted election! then I shall go to that dear delightful place once more.
Miss M. Yes, mama, and then we shall see Faribelly, the strange man-woman that they say is with child; and the fine pictures of Merlin's cave at the playhouses; and the rope-dancing and the tumbling.
Fust. By miss's taste I believe she has been bred up under a woman of quality too.
Place. I cannot but with pleasure observe, madam, the polite taste miss shows in her choice of entertainments; I dare swear she will be much admired in the beau monde, and I don't question but will be soon taken into keeping by some man of quality.
Miss M. Keeping, my lord?
Place. Ay, that surprize looks well enough in one so young, that does not know the world; but, miss, every one now keeps and is kept; there are no such things as marriages now-a-days, unless merely Smithfield contracts, and that for the support of families; but then the husband and wife both take into keeping within a fortnight.
Mrs M. My lord, I would have my girl act like other young ladies; but she does not know any men of quality, who shall introduce her to 'em?
Place. That, madam, must be your part; you must take a house and see company; in a little while you may keep an assembly, and play at cards as high as you can; and almost all the money that is won must be put into the box, which you must call paying for the cards; though it is indeed paying for your candles, your cloaths, your lodgings, and, in short, everything you have. I know some persons who make a very considerable figure in town, whose whole estate lies in their card-box.
Mrs M. And have I been so long contented to be the wife of a poor country tradesman, when I might have had all this happiness?
Fust. How comes this lady, Mr Trapwit, considering her education, to be so ignorant of all these things?
Trap. 'Gad, that's true; I had forgot her education, faith, when I writ that speech; it's a fault I sometimes fall into—a man ought to have the memory of a devil to remember every little thing; but come, go on, go on—I'll alter it by and by.
Place. Indeed, madam, it is a miserable state of life; I hope we shall have no such people as tradesmen shortly; I can't see any use they are of: if I am chose, I'll bring in a bill to extirpate all trade out of the nation.
Mrs M. Yes, my lord, that would do very well amongst people of quality who don't want money.
Fust. Again! Sure Mrs Mayoress knows very little of people of quality, considering she has lived amongst them.
Trap. Lord, sir, you are so troublesome. Then she has not lived amongst people of quality, she has lived where I please; but suppose we should suppose she had been woman to a lady of quality, may we not also suppose she was turned away in a fortnight, and then what could she know, sir? Go on, go on.
Place. Alack-a-day, madam, when I mention trade, I only mean low, dull, mechanick trade, such as the canaille practise; there are several trades reputable enough, which people of fashion may practise; such as gaming, intriguing, voting, and running in debt.
Trap. Come, enter a servant, and whisper my lord. [Enter a Servant.] Pray, sir, mind your cue of entrance. [Exit Servant.
Place. Ladies, a particular affair obliges me to lose so good company. I am your most obedient servant. [Exit.
Mrs M. He is a prodigious fine gentleman.
Miss M. But must I go into keeping, mama?
Mrs M. Child, you must do what's in fashion.
Miss M. But I have heard that's a naughty thing.
Mrs M. That can't be if your betters do it; people are punished for doing naughty things, but people of quality are never punished; therefore they never do any naughty things.
Fust. An admirable syllogism, and quite in character.
Trap. Pshaw, dear sir! don't trouble me with character; it's a good thing; and if it's a good thing, what signifies who says it?—Come, enter the mayor drunk.
Enter Mayor.
May. Liberty and property, and no excise, wife.
Mrs M. Ah! filthy beast, come not near me.
May. But I will, though; I am for liberty and property; I'll vote for no courtiers, wife.
Mrs M. Indeed, but you shall, sir.
Miss M. I hope you won't vote for a nasty stinking Tory, papa.
May. What a pox! are you for the courtiers too?
Miss M. Yes, I hope I am a friend to my country; I am not for bringing in the pope.
May. No, nor I an't for a standing army.
Mrs M. But I am for a standing army, sir; a standing army is a good thing: you pretend to be afraid of your liberties and your properties—you are afraid of your wives and daughters: I love to see soldiers in the town; and you may say what you will, I know the town loses nothing by 'em.
May. The women don't, I believe.
Mrs M. And I'll have you know, the women's wants shall be considered, as well as yours. I think my lord and the colonel do you too much honour in offering to represent such a set of clownish, dirty, beggarly animals—Ah! I wish we women were to choose.
May. Ay, we should have a fine set of members then, indeed.
Mrs M. Yes, sir, you would have none but pretty gentlemen—there should not be one man in the House of Commons without a laced coat.
Miss M. O la! what a delicate, fine, charming sight that would be! Well, I like a laced coat; and if ever I am taken into keeping, it shall be by a man in a laced coat.
May. What's that you say, minx? What's that you say?
Mrs M. What's that to you, sir?
May. Why, madam, must not I speak to my own daughter?
Mrs M. You have the greater obligation to me, sir, if she is: I am sure, if I had thought you would have endeavoured to ruin your family, I would have seen you hanged before you should have had any by me.
May. I ruin my family!
Mrs M. Yes, I have been making your fortune for you with my lord; I have got a place for you, but you won't accept on't.
Miss M. You shall accept on't.
Mrs M. You shall vote for my lord and the colonel.
Miss M. They are the finest men—
Mrs M. The prettiest men—
Miss M. The sweetest men—
Mrs M. And you shall vote for them.
May. I won't be bribed.
Mrs M. A place is no bribe—ask the parson of the parish if a place is a bribe.
May. What is the place?
Mrs M. I don't know what the place is, nor my lord does not know what it is, but it is a great swingeing place.
May. I will have the place first. I won't take a bribe, I will have the place first; liberty and property! I'll have the place first. [Exit.
Mrs M. Come, my dear, follow me; I'll see whether he shall vote according to his conscience or mine.
I'll teach mankind, while policy they boast, They bear the name of power, we rule the roast.
Trap. There ends act the second. [Exeunt Mrs and Miss Mayoress.] Mr Fustian, I inculcate a particular moral at the end of every act; and therefore, might have put a particular motto before every one, as the author of Caesar in Egypt has done: thus, sir, my first act sweetly sings, Bribe all; bribe all; and the second gives you to Understand that we are all under petticoat-government; and my third will—but you shall see. Enter my lord Place, colonel Promise, and several voters. My lord, you begin the third act.
Enter Lord PLACE, Col. PROMISE, and several Voters.
Place. Gentlemen, be assured I will take care of you all; you shall all be provided for as fast as possible; the customs and the excise afford a great number of places.
1 Voter. Could not your lordship provide for me at court?
Place. Nothing easier: what sort of a place would you like?
1 Voter. Is not there a sort of employment, sir, called—beef-eating?—If your lordship please to make me a beef-eater—I would have a place fitted for my capacity.
Place. Sir, I will be sure to remember you.
2 Voter. My lord, I should like a place at court too; I don't much care what it is, provided I wear fine cloaths, and have something to do in the kitchen or the cellar; I own I should like the cellar, for I am a devilish lover of sack.
Place. Sack, say you? Odso, you shall be poet-laureat.
2 Voter. Poet! no, my lord, I am no poet, I can't make verses.
Place. No matter for that—you'll be able to make odes.
2 Voter. Odes, my lord! what are those?
Place. Faith, sir, I can't tell well what they are; but I know you may be qualified for the place without being a poet.
Trap. Now, my lord, do you file off, and talk apart with your people; and let the colonel advance.
Fust. Ay, faith, I think it is high time for the colonel to be heard.
Col. Depend upon it, sir; I'll serve you.
Fust. Upon my word the colonel begins very well; but has not that been said already?
Trap. Ay, and if I was to bring a hundred courtiers into my play, they should all say it—none of them do it.
3 Voter. An't please your honour, I have read in a book called Fog's Journal that your honour's men are to be made of wax; now, sir, I have served my time to a wax-work maker, and desire to make your honour's regiment.
CoL Sir, you may depend on me.
3 Voter. Are your officers to be made of wax too, sir? because I would prepare a finer sort for them.
CoL No, none but the chaplain.
3 Voter. O! I have a most delicate piece of black wax for him.
Trap. You see, sir, the colonel can speak when military affairs are on the carpet. Hitherto, Mr Fustian, the play has gone on in great tranquillity; now you shall see a scene of a more turbulent nature. Come, enter the mob of both sides, and cudgel one another off the stage. Colonel, as your business is not to fight at present, I beg you would go off before the battle comes on; you and your brother candidate come into the middle of the stage; you voters range yourselves under your several leaders. [The mob attempt to break in.] Pray, gentlemen, keep back; mind, the colonel's going off is the cue for the battle to enter. Now, my lord, and the colonel, you are at the head of your parties—but hold, hold, hold! you beef-eater, go you behind my lord, if you please; and you soldier-maker, come you behind the colonel: now, gentlemen, speak.
Place and Col Gentlemen, we'll serve you. [My lord and the colonel flle off at different doors, the parties following.
Enter mob on each side of the stage, crying out promiscuously. Down with the Rump! No courtiers! No Jacobites! Down with the pope! No excise! A Place and a Promise! A Fox-chace and a Tankard! At last they fall together by the ears, and cudgel one another off the stage.
Enter Sir HARRY, Squire TANKARD, and Mayor.
Sir H. Bravely done, my boys, bravely done; faith, our party has got the day.
May. Ay, Sir Harry, at dry blows we always come off well; if we could but disband the army, I warrant we carried all our points. But faith, sir, I have fought a hard battle on your account; the other side have secured my wife; my lord has promised her a place, but I am not to be gulled in that manner: I may be taken like a fish in the water, by a bait; but not like the dog in the water, by a shadow.
Sir H. I know you are an honest man, and love your country.
May. Faith, that I do, Sir Harry, as well as any man; if my country will but let me live by it, that's all I desire.
Fust. Mr Mayor seems to have got himself sober very suddenly.
Trap. Yes, so would you too, I believe, if you had been scolded at by your wife as long as he has; but if you think that is not reason enough, he may be drunk still, for any reason I see to the contrary: pray, sir, act this scene as if you was drunk.
Fust. Nay, I must confess, I think it quite out of character the mayor to be once sober during the whole election.
Tank. [drunk.] A man that won't get drunk for his country is a rascal.
May. So he is, noble squire; there's no honesty in a man that won't be drunk—A man that won't drink is an enemy to the trade of the nation.
Sir H. Those were glorious days when honest English hospitality flourished; when a country gentleman could afford to make his neighbours drunk, before your damned French fashions were brought over. Why, Mr Mayor, would you think it? there are many of these courtiers who have six starved footmen behind a coach, and not half a hogshead of wine in their house; why, how do you think all the money is spent?
May. Faith, I can't tell.
Sir H. Why, in houses, pictures, lace, embroidery, nick-nacks, Italian singers, and French tumblers; and those who vote for them will never get a dinner of them after the election is over.
May. But there is a thought comes often into my head, which is this; if these courtiers be turned out, who shall succeed them?
Sir H. Who? why, we!
Tank. Ay, we!
Sir H. And then we may provide for our friends. I love my country, but I don't know why I may not get something by it as well as another; at least to reimburse me.—And I do assure you, though I have not bribed a single vote, my election will stand me in a good five thousand pounds.
Tank. Ay, and so will mine me: but if ever we should get uppermost, Sir Harry, I insist upon immediately paying off the debts of the nation.
Sir H. Mr Tankard, that shall be done with all convenient speed.
Tank. I'll have no delay in it, sir.
May. There spoke the spirit of a true Englishman: ah! I love to hear the squire speak; he will be a great honour to his country in foreign parts.
Sir H. Our friends stay for us at the tavern; we'll go and talk more over a bottle.
Tank. With all my heart; but I will pay off the debts of the nation.
May. Come to the tavern then:— There, while brisk wine improves our conversation, We at our pleasure will reform the nation.
Trap. There ends act the third.
[Exeunt Sir HARRY, TANKARD, and Mayor.
Fust. Pray, sir, what's the moral of this act?
Trap. And you really don't know?
Fust. No, really.
Trap. Then I really will not tell you; but come, sir, since you cannot find that out, I'll try whether you can find out the plot; for now it is just going to begin to open, it will require a very close attention, I assure you; and the devil take me if I give you any assistance.
Fust. Is not the fourth act a little too late to open the plot, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. Sir, 'tis an error on the right side: I have known a plot open in the first act, and the audience, and the poet too, forget it before the third was over: now, sir, I am not willing to burden either the audience's memory or my own; for they may forget all that is hitherto past, and know full as much of the plot as if they remembered it.
Promp. Call Mr Mayor, Mrs Mayoress, and Miss.
Enter Mayor, Mrs and Miss Mayoress.
Mrs M. Oh! have I found you at last, sir? I have been hunting for you this hour.
May. Faith, my dear, I wish you had found me sooner; I have been drinking to the good old cause with Sir Harry and the squire: you would have been heartily welcome to all the company.
Mrs M. Sir, I shall keep no such company; I shall converse with no clowns or country squires.
Miss M. My mama will converse with no Jacobites.
May. But, my dear, I have some news for you; I have got a place for myself now.
Mrs M. O ho! then you will vote for my lord at last?
May. No, my dear; Sir Harry is to give me a place.
Mrs M. A place in his dog-kennel?
May. No, 'tis such a one as you never could have got me from my lord; I am to be made an embassador.
Mrs M. What, is Sir Harry going to change sides then, that he is to have all this interest?
May. No, but the sides are going to be changed; and Sir Harry is to be—I don't know what to call him, not I—some very great man; and as soon as he is a very great man I am to be made an embassador of.
Mrs M. Made an ass of! Will you never learn of me that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?
May. Yes, but I can't find that you had the bird in hand; if that had been the case I don't know what I might have done; but I am sure any man's promise is as good as a courtier's.
Mrs M. Look'ye, Mr Embassador that is to be; will you vote as I would have you or no? I am weary of arguing with a fool any longer; so, sir, I tell you you must vote for my lord and the colonel, or I'll make the house too hot to hold you; I'll see whether my poor family is to be ruined because you have whims.
Miss M. I know he is a Jacobite in his heart.
Mrs M. What signifies what he is in his heart? have not a hundred, whom everybody knows to be as great Jacobites as he, acted like very good whigs? What has a man's heart to do with his lips? I don't trouble my head with what he thinks; I only desire him to vote.
Miss M. I am sure mama is a very reasonable woman.
Mrs M. Yes, I am too reasonable a woman, and have used gentle methods too long; but I'll try others.
[Goes to a corner of the stage and takes a stick.
May. Nay, then, liberty and property, and no excise! [Runs off.
Mrs M. I'll excise you, you villain! [Runs after him.
Miss M. Hey ho! I wish somebody were here now. Would the man that I love best in the world were here, that I might use him like a dog!
Fust. Is not that a very odd wish, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. No, sir; don't all the young ladies in plays use all their lovers so? Should we not lose half the best scenes in our comedies else?
Promp. Pray, gentlemen, don't disturb the rehearsal so: where is this servant? [Enter Servant.] Why don't you mind your cue?
Serv. Oh, ay, dog's my cue. Madam, here's Miss Stitch, the taylor's daughter, come to wait on you.
Miss M. Shew her in. What can the impertinent flirt want with me? She knows I hate her too for being of the other party: however, I'll be as civil to her as I can. [Enter Miss STITCH.] Dear miss! your servant; this is an unexpected favour.
Miss S. I am sure, madam, you have no reason to say so; for, though we are of different parties, I have always coveted your acquaintance. I can't see why people may not keep their principles to themselves. [Aside.
Miss M. Pray, miss, sit down. Well, have you any news in town?
Miss S. I don't know, my dear, for I have not been out these three days; and I have been employed all that time in reading one of the "Craftsmen:" 'tis a very pretty one; I have almost got it by heart.
Miss M. [Aside.] Saucy flirt! she might have spared that to me when she knows that I hate the paper.
Miss S. But I ask your pardon, my dear; I know you never read it.
Miss M. No, madam, I have enough to do to read the "Daily Gazetteer." My father has six of 'em sent him every week for nothing: they are very pretty papers, and I wish you would read them, miss.
Miss S. Fie upon you! how can you read what's writ by an old woman?
Miss M. An old woman, miss?
Miss S. Yes, miss, by Mrs Osborne. Nay, it is in vain to deny it to me.
Miss M. I desire, madam, we may discourse no longer on this subject; for we shall never agree on it.
Miss S. Well, then, pray let me ask you seriously—are you thoroughly satisfied with this peace?
Miss M. Yes, madam, and I think you ought to be so too.
Miss S. I should like it well enough if I were sure the queen of Spain was to be trusted.
Miss M. [Rising.] Pray miss, none of your insinuations against the queen of Spain.
Miss S. Don't be in a passion, madam.
Miss M. Yes, madam, but I will be in a passion, when the interest of my country is at stake.
Miss S. [Rising.] Perhaps, madam, I have a heart as warm in the interest of my country as you can have; though I pay money for the papers I read, and that's more than you can say.
Miss M. Miss, miss, my papers are paid for too by somebody, though I don't pay for them; I don't suppose the old woman, as you call her, sends 'em about at her own expence; but I'd have you to know, miss, I value my money as little as you in my country's cause; and rather than have no army, I would part with every farthing of these sixteen shillings to maintain it.
Miss S. And if my sweetheart was to vote for the colonel, though I like this fan of all the fans I ever saw in my life, I would tear it all to pieces, because it was his Valentine's gift to me. Oh, heavens! I have torn my fan; I would not have torn my fan for the world! Oh! my poor dear fan! I wish all parties were at the devil, for I am sure I shall never get a fan by them.
Miss M. Notwithstanding all you have said, madam, I should be a brute not to pity you under this calamity: comfort yourself, child, I have a fan the exact fellow to it; if you bring your sweetheart over to vote for the colonel you shall have it.
Miss S. And can I sell my country for a fan? What's my country to me? I shall never get a fan by it. And will you give it me for nothing?
Miss M. I'll make you a free present of it.
Miss S. I am ashamed of your conquest, but I'll take the fan.
Miss M. And now, my dear, we'll go and drink a dish of tea together. And let all parties blame me if they can, Who're bribed by honours trifling as a fan.
[Exeunt Misses.
Trap. There ends act the fourth. If you want to know the moral of this, the devil must be in you. Faith, this incident of the fan struck me so strongly that I was once going to call this comedy by the name of The Fan. But come, now for act the fifth.
Promp. Sir, the player who is to begin it is just stepped aside on some business; he begs you would stay a few minutes for him.
Trap. Come, Fustian, you and I will step into the green-room, and chat with the actresses meanwhile.
Fust. But don't you think these girls improper persons to talk of parties?
Trap. Sir, I assure you it is not out of nature: and I have often heard these affairs canvast by men who had not one whit more understanding than these girls.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
SCENE I.—Enter TRAPWIT, FUSTIAN, and SNEERWELL.
Trap. Fie upon't, fie upon't! make no excuses.
Sneer. Consider, sir, I am my own enemy.
Trap. I do consider that you might have past your time, perhaps, here as well as in another place.
Sneer. But I hope I have not transgressed much.
Trap. All's over, sir, all's over; you might as well have stayed away entirely; the fifth act's beginning, and the plot's at an end.
Sneer. What!'s the plot at an end before the fifth act is begun?
Trap. No, no, no, no, I don't mean at an end;
but we are so far advanced in it that it will be impossible for you to comprehend or understand anything of it.
Fust. You have too mean an opinion of Mr Sneerwell's capacity; I'll engage he shall understand as much of it as I, who have heard the other four.
Trap. Sir, I can't help your want of understanding or apprehension; 'tis not my fault if you cannot take a hint, sir: would you have a catastrophe in every act? Oons and the devil! have not I promised you you should know all by and by? but you are so impatient!
Fust. I think you have no reason to complain of my want of patience. Mr Sneerwell, be easy; 'tis but one short act before my tragedy begins; and that I hope will make you amends for what you are to undergo before it. Trapwit, I wish you would begin.
Trap. I wish so too. Come, prompter! are the members in their chairs?
Promp. Yes, sir.
Trap. Then carry them over the stage: but, hold, hold, hold! where is the woman to strew the flowers? [The members are carried over the stage.] Halloo, mob, halloo, halloo! Oons, Mr Prompter! you must get more mob to halloo, or these gentlemen will never be believed to have had the majority.
Promp. Sir, I can get no more mob; all the rest of the mob are gone to St James's-park to see the show.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Trapwit, who are these gentlemen in the chairs?
Trap. Ay, sir, this is your staying away so long; if you had been here the first four acts you would have known who they were.
Fust. Dear Sneerwell, ask him no more questions; if you enquire into every absurdity you see we shall have no tragedy to-day.
Trap. Come, Mr Mayor and Mrs Mayoress.
Enter Mayor and Mrs Mayoress.
May. So, now you have undone yourself your own way; you have made me vote against my conscience and interest too, and now I have lost both parties.
Mrs M. How have you lost both parties?
May. Why, my lord will never remember my voting for him, now he has lost the day; and Sir Harry, who has won it, will never forgive my voting against him: let which side will be uppermost, I shall have no place till the next election.
Mrs M. It will be your own fault then, sir; for you have it now in your power to oblige my lord more than ever; go and return my lord and the colonel as duly elected, and I warrant you I do your business with him yet.
May. Return 'em, my dear? Why, there was a majority of two or three score against 'em.
Mrs M. A fig for a majority of two or three score! if there had been a majority of as many hundreds, you'll never be called to an account for returning them; and when you have returned 'em, you'll have done all in your power. How can you expect that great men should do anything to serve you if you stick at anything to serve them?
May. My conscience boggles at this thing—but yet it is impossible I should ever get anything by the other side.
Mrs M. Ay, let that satisfy your conscience, that it is the only way to get anything.
May. Truly, I think it is.
Sneer. I think, Mr Trapwit, interest would be a better word there than conscience.
Trap. Ay, interest or conscience, they are words of the same meaning; but I think conscience rather politer of the two, and most used at court.
Mrs M. Besides, it will do a service to your town, for half of them must be carried to London at the candidates' expence; and I dare swear there is not one of them, whatever side he votes of, but would be glad to put the candidate to as much expence as he can in an honest way. [Exit Mayor.
Enter Miss Mayoress, crying.
Miss M. Oh, mama, I have grieved myself to death at the court party's losing the day; for if the others should have a majority in the house, what would become of us? alas, we should not go to London!
Mrs M. Dry up your tears, my dear, all will be well; your father shall return my lord and the colonel, and we shall have a controverted election, and we will go to London, my dear.
Miss M. Shall we go to London? then I am easy; but if we had staid here I should have broke my heart for the love of my country.—Since my father returns them, I hope justice will find some friends above, where people have sense enough to know the right side from the left; however, happen what will, there is some consolation in going to London. |
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