PR 3328 B5 R3 1902 MAIN -NRLF 142 SHO BERKELEY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA No, GEORGE VILLIERS Second Duke of Buckingham The Rehearsal First acted 7 Dec. 1671. Published [? July] 1672 With Illustrations from previous Plays, etc F.S.A. ETC. LATE EXAMINER IN ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE TO THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON WESTMINSTER A. CONSTABLE AND CO., LTD. 1902 LOAN STACK CONTENTS LIFE and TIMES of GEORGE VILLIERS, Duke of Buck- ingham 3 (1) Brian Fairfax's Memorials of him, . . . 3 10 (2) Other characters of him, by Lord Peterborough, Bp. Bumet, Count Grammont, S. Butler, and J. Dryden, 10 12 INTRODUCTION, 13 BIBLIOGRAPHY, 'The Rehearfal' 18 Keys to 'The Rehearfal' 19, 20, 26, 32, 36, 46, 48 THE REHEARSAL, .... (1) Prologue 23 (2) The Aclors, . . 24 (3) The TEXT, on odd numbered pages, (4) The ILLUSTRATIONS, on even numbered pages, prin- cipally taken from the following Plays : Mrs. A. Behn, The Amorous Prince. 1671. Sir W. D'Avenant, Love and Honour. 1649. (Poet-laureate) Play Houfe to be let. Siege of Rhodes, Part I. 1656. J. Dryden, Conqueft of Granada, Parts I. and II. 1672. (Poet-laureate) The Indian Emperor. 1667. Marriage-a-la-mode. 1691. Secret Love, or The Maiden Queen. 1668. Tyrannic Love. 1670 and 1672. The Wild Gallant. 1669. Sir R. Fanfhawe's tranflation (1654) of Don A, H. de Mendoza's Querer pro folo querer. 1623. (To love only for love's fake) 1671. Col. H. Howard, United Kingdoms. The Hon. J. Howard, Englijh Monfeeur. 1674. Sir W. Killigrew, Ormafdes, or Love and Friendjhip. 1665. Pandora, or The Converts. 1665. T. Porter, The Villain. 1663. F. Quarles, The Virgin Widow, 1649. Sir R. Stapylton, The Slighted Maid. 1663. (5) Epilogue I3 6 The LIFE and TIMES ' ( N '^ -65 GEORGE VILLIERS, /^ 3 Second Duke of Buckingham. / C> t-* ) INSTEAD of the usual brief Chronicle, we shall on this occasion adduce a series of testimonies that have come down to us from contempora^s, all intimately acquainted with Villiers. i. In the year 1758, was published in London, a 410 Catalogue of tkt Curious Collection of Pictures of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. The Catalogue is prefaced by the following ADVERTISEMENT. WE proceed to gratify the curiosity of the public with some other lists of valuable collections ; the principal one belonged to that magnificent favourite, George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham ; and was only such part of his Museum as was preserved by an old servant of the family, Mr. Traylman, and by him sent to Antwerp to the young duke, to be sold for his subsistence ; great part having been embezzled, when the estate was sequestered by the parliament. Some of the pictures, on the a-sassination of the first duke, had been pur- chased by the king, the earl of Northumberland, and Abbot Montagu. The collection was kept at York-house in the Strand, and had been bought by the duke at great prices. He gave .10,000 for what had been collected by Sir Peter Paul Rubens; and Sir Henry Wootton, when ambassador at Venice, purchased many other capital ones for his grace. One may judge a little how ^valuable the entire collection must have been, by this list of what remained, where we find no fewer than nineteen by Titian, seventeen by Tintoret, twenty-one by Bassan, two by Julio Romano, two by Giorgione, thirteen by Paul Veronese, eight by Palma, three by Guido, thirteen by Rubens, three by Leonardo da Vinci, two by Corregio, and three by Raphael ; besides other esteemed and scarce masters. Mr. Duart of Antwerp bought some of them, but the greater part were purchased by the archduke Leopold, and added to his noble collection in the castle of Prague. He bought the chief picture, the Ecce Homo by Titian, in which were introduced the portraits of the pope, the emperor Charles the Fifth, and Solyman the magnificent. It appears by a note of Mr. Vertue, in the original manuscript, that Thomas earl of Arundel offered the first duke the value of 7,000 in money or land for that single piece. There is a copy of it at Northumberland house. It may not be improper to mention in this place, that Villiers, when sent with the earl of Holland to the States, to negociate the restoration of the Palatinate, purchased a curious collection of Arabic manuscripts, collected by Erpinius, a famous linguist ; which, according to the duke's designa- tion of them, were after his death, bestowed on the university of Cam- bridge, of which his grace had been chancellor. Embedded in this Catalogue, at pp. 24 39, is the following Life ofGeorgt Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, the celebrated Poet. Written by Brian Fair- fax Esq. and never before published. This L ife is both able and graphic ; and apparently authentic. As it will be new to most readers, we give it entire. BRIAN FAIRFAX, Esq. was the second son of Rev. Henry Fairfax, rector of Bolton Percy, and cousin to Thomas, 4th Lord Fairfax (the Parliamentary general), brother to Henry, sth Lord, and uncle of Thomas 6th Lord Fair- fax. [See The Fairfax Correspondence. Ed. by G. W. Johnson, i. cxx cxxv. 1848.] In 1599, he edited Short Memorials of Thomas [4th] Lord Fairfax. Written by himself. The following gives the most favourable account of Villiers; and would seem to show that up to the Restoration hi was apparently no worse than his neighbours. The original papers from whence this manuscript is faithfully taken, were -written by Mr. BRIAN FAIRFAX, and in the possession of the late bishop Atterbury. Memoirs of the Life of GEORGE VILLIERS, Duke of BUCKINGHAM. GEORGE Villiers, duke of Buckingham, was the son of that noble favourite 4 BRIAN FAIRFAX'S Memoirs of the Life ol to two Icings ; who, in the height of his fortune and flower of his age, engaged hit estate and exposed his life, in the service of his king and country. The name of Villiers is ancient and honourable in France and England. Philip de Villiers Lisle Adam, was the last great master of Rhodes, and defended it six months against the Turkish emperor, Solyman. The duke's mother was the Lady Katherine Manners, sole daughter and heir of Francis earl of Rutland. He was bora at Wallingford house in Westminster, Jan. 30, 1627. His elder brother, Charles, died an infant. His sister Mary was dutchess of Richmond and Lennox. His brother Francis was born at Chelsea, after his father's death. The duke inherited from his father the greatest title, and from his mother the greatest estate of any subject in England ; and from them both so graceful a body, as gave a lustre to the ornaments of his mind, and made him the glory of the English court at home and abroad. The first visit the king made to the dutchess after her husband's death, he was pleased to say, He would be a husband to her, a father to her children ; and he performed his promise. The dutchess was then great with child, and the king said, He would be godfather: Francis earl of Rutland, the child's grandfather, was the other. They complimented who should give the name. The king named him Francis, and the grandfather gave him his benediction, seven thousand pounds a year. The duke and his brother, Francis, were bred up by king Charles,* *Sointke with his own children, the same tutors and governors. orig. They were sent to Trinity College in Cambridge, their names entered in the college-book the same year with prince Charles. Here the duke became acquainted with two excellent men, Mr. Ab. Cowley, and Mr. Martin Clifford, whom he loved ever after, and they as faithfully ana affectionately served him. [To these two a third was added afterwards, who had an equal share with them in his affection, his domestic chaplain ; and it was a good argument of his own wit and judgment, and good t/ the orig. nature, that he knew how to value a man who had all these tkit sentence and other good qualities to recommend him.t] it interlined. From hence they went to the king at Oxford, laying their lives and fortunes at his feet, as a testimony of their loyalty and gratitude, worthy to be im- printed in the memory of the royal family. This they did, not in words and compliments ; for they lost their estates, and one of them, soon after, his life. At Oxford they chose two good tutors to enter them in the war, prince Rupert and my lord Gerard ; and went with them into very sharp service : the storming of the dose at Litchfield. At their return to Oxford, the dutchess, their mother, was very angry with my lord Gerard, for tempting her sons into such danger ; but he told her, it was their own inclination, and the more danger the more honour. For this the parliament seized on their estates, but by a rare example of their compassion, restored it again in consideration of their nonage : but the young men kept it no longer than till they came to be at age to forfeit it again. About this tune their mother married the marquis of Antrim, and thereby oftndcd the king, and ruined herself. They were now committed to the care of the earl of Northumberland, and were sent to travel in France and Italy, where they lived in as great state as some of those sovereign princes. Florence and Rome were the places of their residence, and they brought their religion home again, wherein they had been educated under the eye of the most devout and best of kin|_The duke did not, as his predecessor, in the title of Lord Ross, had done before him,_who changed his religion at Rome, and left his tutor, Mr. Mole, in the inquisition, for having translated long James's book, his admonition to princes, into latin ; and Du Pleffis Momey's book of the mass into engiish. Their return into England was in so critical a time, as if they had ncn* chosen die last opportunity, as they had done the first, of venturing all in lie king's service. In the year 1648 the king was a prisoner in the isle of Wight, and his friend* in several parts of England designing to renew the war ; duke Hamilton > GEORGE VILLIERS, Second Duke of Buckingham. 5 Scotland, the earl of Holland and others in Surry, Goring in Kent, many ia London and Essex, and these were the last efforts of the dying cause. The duke and brother, my lord Francis, in the heat of their courage, engaged with the earl of Holland : and were the first that took the field about Rygate in Surry. The parliament, with their old army, knew all these designs, and despised them ; till they grew so numerous in Kent, that the general himself was sent to suppress them, who found sharp service in storming of Maidstone, and taking of Colchester. Some troops of horse were sent, under the command of colonel Gibbons, to suppress them in Surry ; and they drove my lord of Holland before them to Kingston, but engaged his party before they got thither, near Nonsuch, and defeated them. My lord Francis, at the head of his troop having his horse slain under him, got to an oak tree in the high way about two miles from Kingston, where he stood with his back against it, defending himself, scorning to ask quarter, and they barbarously refusing to give it ; till, with nine wounds in his beau- tiful face and body, he was slain. The oak tree is his monument, and has the two first letters of his name F. V. cut in it to this day. Thus died this noble, valiant, and beautiful youth, in the twentieth year of his age. A few days before his death, when he left London, he ordered his steward, Mr. John May, to bring him in a list of his debts, and he so charged his estate with them, that the parliament, who seized on the estate, payed his debts. His body was brought from Kingston by water to York house in the Strand, and was there embalmed and deposited in his father's vault in Henry VHth's chapel, at the abbey of Westminster ; with this inscription, which D is a pity should be buried with him : Qui vicesimo retails anno Deppsitum Pro rege Carolo Illustrissimi domini Et patria Francisci Villiers Fortier pugnando Ingentis specie juvenis Novem honestis vulneribus acceptis Filii posthumi Georgii Obiit vii? die Julii Ducis Buckinghamii Anno Domino 1648. The body of the illustrious lord Francis Villiers, a most beautiful youth, the posthumous son of George duke of Buckingham, who, in the 2oth year of his age, fighting valiantly for king Charles and his country, having nine honourable wounds, died the 7th of July, 1648. The duke, after the loss of his brother, hardly escaped with his life to St. Ntods, whither also came the earl of Holland, who was there taken, and soon after beheaded. The duke, the next morning finding the house where he Jay sutrounded, and a troop of horse drawn up before the gate, had time with his servants to get to horse, and then causing the gate to be opened, he charged the enamy, and killed the officer at the head of them, and made his escape to the sea-side, and to prince Charles who was in the Downs with those ships that had deserted the earl of Warwick. And now again the parliament gave him forty days time to return to Eng- land, but he refused, and chose rather to stay with the prince, who was soon after king Charles the Second, and to follow him in his exile. The parliament seized on his estate, the greatest of any subject in England, having now his brother's estate fallen to him ; the yearly value was above 25,000. It happened that the manor of Helmesly, which was his brother's, was given to my lord Fairfax, wifh York-house in the Strand, for part of his arrears, and this fortunately came to him by his marrying my lord Fairfax's daughter. All that he had to live on beyond sea was the money he got at Antwerp for his pictures, which were part of that costly and curious collection his father got together from Italy, by the help of Sir Henry Wotton and others, which adorned York-house, to the admiration of all men of judgment in pic- tures : A note of their names and dimensions is all that is now left of them. T he Ecce Homo of Titian was valued at 5000 being the figure of all th 6 BRIAN FAIRFAX'S Memoirs of the Life of great persons in his time. The arch-duke bought it, and it is now iu tht castle of Prague. These pictures were secured and sent to him by his old trusty servant, Mr. John Trayleman, who lived in York-house. The king resolving to go into Scotland, the duke attended him, and now again the parliament offered him to compound for his estate for .20,000, which was less than a year's value ; but he chose to run the king's fortune in Scotland, worse than exile, came with him out of Scotland into England ; and at Worcester his escape was almost as miraculous as the king's in the royal oak. He escaped again into France, and went a voluntier into the French army, and was much regarded by all the great officers, signalizing his courage at the siege of Arras and Valenciennes. When he came to the English court, which was but seldom, the king was always glad to see him. He loved his person and his company ; but the great men about him desired rather his room than his company. There now happened a great turn in the course of his life. My lord Fairfax had part of his estate, about ^5000 per ann. allotted him by the par- liament towards the payment of his arrears due to him as general, and he remitted more than would have purchased a greater estate. They gave him the manner of Helmesly, the seat of the noble family of Rutland in York- shire, as a salve for the wound he received there, being shot through the body. They gave him also York-house in London, which was also the duke's. The duke heard how kind and generous my lord Fairfax was to the countess of Derby, in paying all the rents of the Isle of Man, which the par- liament had also assigned to him for his arrears, into her own hands, and she confessed it was more than all her servants before had done. The duke had reason to hope my lord had the same inclinations as to this estate of his, which he never accounted his own, and the duke wanted it as much as the countess. He was not deceived in his hopes, for my lord Fairfax wished only for an opportunity of doing it He lived in York-house, where every chamber was adorned with the arms of Villiers and Manners, lions and peacocks. He was descended from the same ancestors, earls of Rutland. Sir Guy Fairfax his two sons having married two of the daughters of the earl of Rutland ; which my lord took frequent occasion to remember. The duke resolved to try his fortune, which had hitherto been adverse enough, and he had some revenge on her, by his translation of the ode in Horace Fortvna. seems beta negoiiis. Over he came into England, to make love to his only daughter, a most virtuous and amiable lady. He found a friend to propose it, and I think it was Mr. Robert Harlow. The parents consented, and the young lady could not resist his charms, being the most graceful and beautiful person that any court in Europe ever saw, &c. All his trouble in wooing was, He came, saw, and conquered. When he came into England he was not sure either of life or liberty. He was an outlaw, and had not made his peace with Cromwell, who would have forbid the banns ifJAe had known of his coming over. He had a greater share of his estate, had daughters to marry, and would not have liked such a con- junction of Mars and Mercury, as was in this alliance ; knowing my lord's affections to the royal family, which did afterwards produce good effects towards its restoration. They were married at Nun-Appleton, six miles from York, Sept. 7, 1657, a new and noble house built by my lord Fairfax, and where he kept as noble hospitality. His friend, Ab. Cowley, wrote an epithalamium, now printed. When Cromwell heard of it, he rested not till he had him in the tower, and would have brought him to Tower-hill had he lived a fortnight longer. He had liberty given him to be at York-house with his lady ; but going to Cobham to see his sister, he was taken, and sent to the tower. This so angered my lord Fairfax that he went to Whitehall to the protector, and expostulated the case so as it put him into great passion, turning abruptly from him in the gallery at Whitehall, cocking his hat, and n c f , throwing his cloak under his ann,U as he used to do when he " ' was angry. Thus I saw him take his last leave of his old acquaintance, Cromwell, whose servants expected he would be sent to bear the duke company U the tower the next morning, but the protector was wiser in his passion. GRORGE VILLIERS, Second Duke oi Buckingham. 7 I carried the duke the news of the protector's death, and he had then leave to be a prisoner at Windsor castle, where his friend Ab. Cowley was hii constant companion. Richard Cromwell soon after abdicated, and then hit liberty came of course. This was the happiest time of all the duke's life, when he went to his father- in-law's house at Appleton, and there lived orderly and decently with his own wife, where he neither wanted, nor so abounded as to be tempted to any sort of extravagance, as he was after when he came to possess his whole estate. He now understood the meaning of that paradox, Dimidium flus toto, with which he used to pose young scholars ; and found by experience, that the half or third part of his own estate which he now enjoyed, was more than the whole which he had at the king and his restauration. Now he lived a most regular life, no courtships but to his own wife, not so much as to his after-beloved and costly mistress, the philosopher's stone. My lord Fairfax was much pleased with his company, and to see him so conformable to the orders and good government of the family. If they had any plots together, they were to the best purposes, the restoration of the royal family. My lord Fairfax's maxims in politicks was, that the old veteran army which he had commanded, was not to be beaten by any new rais'd_force in England ; and that the king's friends shewed more affection than discretion in their plots, to restore them while they were united : and that this old army would never be beaten but by itself; as the event shewed, when Lambert and Monk divided them. But the most fatal influence of this opinion in my lord Fairfax was the night before the thirtieth of January, when some of his friends proposed to him to attempt the next day to rescue the king, telling him that twenty thousand men were ready to join with him ; he said, he was ready to venture his own life, but not the lives of others against the army now united against them. The same appeared in the insurrection of sir George Booth, which Lambert, with a brigade of this old army, did so easily suppress ; the success whereot inspired him with the ambition of imitating Cromwell, in dissolving the par- liament, and making himself protector. The duke had given sufficient testimony of his loyalty, and my lord Fairfax of his affection and desire to see the royal family restored ; and uow was the time of doing it. General Monk in Scotland declared against Lambert, who marched against him with a strong body of horse. My lord Fairfax, and the duke with him, declared for Monk in Yorkshire ; but the duke was obliged to withdraw, because his presence gave a jealousy, that the design was to bring in the king, which was too soon to be owned. What the event was is well known. I shall only repeat the duke's words in an expostulatory letter to king Charles some years after. "As to your majesty's return into England, I may justly pretend to sonvj share ; since without my lord Fairfax his engaging in Yorkshire, Lambert's army had never quitted him, nor the duke of Albemarle marched out of Scotland." The king's restoration, vohienda dies en attulit ultra, restored the duke to his estate, but such a train of expence with it, as brought him acquainted with bankers and scriveners, that infested it with the gangreen of usury, which it never recovered. At the king's coronation no subject appeared in greater splendor. None kept greater hospitality than he did at Wallingford-house, especially for the French nobility that came over. This engaged him in play, which had he continued, his estate had not lasted so long ; but he resolved to give it over, and kept his resolution ever after. He was moderate in all his expences, his table, stable, laboratory. All the king's favours to him were occasions of great expence. His lord lieutenancy m Yorkshire cost him more than it did all that succeeded him. The master of the horses cost him twenty thousand pounds to the duke of Albemarle. His embassies into France and Holland cost him more than a diamond ring could recompense : that into Holland (setting aside the politick part of it, Wing a consequence of that into France. 8 BRIAN FAIRFAX'S Memoirs of the Life of We took barge at Whitehall, June 1673, and lay that night on board the English admiral at the bnoy in the Nore, the king and duke being there. The next night we came to anchor in our yacht in the Dutch fleet on the coast of Holland. The next night we were entertained by the states ir. the Hague. Th next night we supp'd with the prince of Orange at his camp at Bodegrave. Next night with the king of France at Utrecht, where we staid two or three days, and then march'd back with him at the head of his army to Arnheim, where we visited the prince de Conde, who lay ill there of a wound in his arm, which he got passing the Rhine at Tolhus, and Marshal Turin. Thence we went with the king to Nimeguen, Grave, Boxtell, and .there we parted. The king went to Paris, and we into the Spanish dominions, to Antwerp, Brussels, Bruges, Ghent, Dunkirk, and Calais ; where our yachts stayed for us, and we came to Dover, Canterbury, London ; where we arrived the day month that we left it. He was sent ambassador into France, where he was highly carressed by the king, and many of the nobility bis old acquaintance. This was before the other into Holland. At his return he was chosen chancellor of the university of Cambridge, and entertained them nobly at York-house, where his father had done it on the same occasion forty years before. He now seemed to be setting up for a favourite, but he wanted his father's diligence, which fitted him to stand before princes. He fell into a new way of expence in building, in that sort of architecture which Cicero calls, Insanac tubstructiones ; and himself, when his friends dissuaded him from it, called it his folly. The world has been severe in censuring his foibles, but not so just in noting bis good qualities. For his person, he was the glory of the age and any court wherever he came. Of a most graceful and charming mien and behaviour ; a strong, tall and active body, all which gave a lustre to the ornaments of his mind ; of an admirable wit and excellent judgment ; and had all other qualities of a gen- tleman. He was courteous and affable to all ; of a compassionate nature ; ready to forgive and forget injuries. What was said of a great man in the court of queen Elizabeth, that he used to vent his discontents at court by writing from company, and writing sonnetts, may be said of him ; but when he was provoked by the malice of some and ingratitude of others, he might shew that a good natured man might have an ill natured muse. He gave a good instance of his readiness to forgive injuries. When a con- siderable man at court did him an injury, which he was fearful he would re- sent, he desired a friend to mediate for him, and endeavour a reconciliation, which he undertook. The duke told him that he did not remember he had ever injured him, if he had he freely forgave him. His_ charitable disposition he seemed to inherit from his grandfather, Francis earl of Rutland, who used every quarter day at London to send his steward with bags of money to several prisons to relieve prisoners and pay their debts, bidding them thank God, and pray for their benefactor, but not telling them who it was. He was a man of great courage and presence of mind in danger. One in- stance of it was when a melancholy-mad servant assaulted him with a drawn sword in his hand when he was at supper, and he with a knife disarmed him. The man was afterwards hanged for saying he would do it to the king. The character which Sir Henry Wotton gives of his father might be said of turn, viz. "Among all the favourites which mine eyes have beheld in divers courts and times, I never saw before a strong heart and eminent condition sc clearly void of all pride and shocking arrogance either in his face or in his fashion.'' It is to be wished the rest of his fathers character had been as true of him ; his diligence and application to business, and that he had left his few honest servants in as good fortune as reputation, who never wronged him in kis estate, nor flattered him in his faults, and thought they escaped well in jot being oppressed under the ruins of his fortune. [When he first began to settle his familyhe desired his old In the origin- , A[braham] Cowley and M[artin] Cnifford] to recom- a! tkit /am- GEORGE VILLIERS, Second Duke of Buckingham. 9 mend to him a domestick chaplain. They knew how hard graph is -writ- it, was to please him ; he must be a man of learning, wit, ten on a fide oj good nature, good manners, a graceful person and decent paper, tacked 1 ehaviour. They found one [T. Sprat, afterwards Bp. of to the other Rochester. See W. OldysMS. note to G. Langbaine] to their by a wafer, own mind, and to his ; whom he valued as a friend, and and is referred loved as a companion ; who lived to be an ornament to the to by a mark. church among those of the highest order. He brought the 'Tis written duke acquainted with another excellent person, whose in the saint friendship and conversation he much coveted, and wished hand. he could have more of it, who attained afterwards to the highest dignity in the church, and with a lawyer as eminent in his pro- fession : so that his father was not more happy in the choice of a few friends and servants than he was, if he had followed their advice. He saw and approved the best, but did too often deteriora sepui.] His father had two crimes objected against him which he was not guilty of ; plurality of offices, and preferring his relations. The faults objected against him were, that he loved women, and spent his estate. His estate was his own. He had often lost it for the king, and might now be allowed to enjoy it himself. If he -wasfui profusus, he never was alieni appetens. If he was extravagant in spending, he was just _ in paying his debts, and at his death charged his debts on his estate, leaving much more than enough to pay them. If he was a grievance, as he told the house of commons, he was the cheapest to the public that ever was complained of." _ He had no children by his dutchess, nor heirs capable of inheriting his estate or title. His amours were too notorious to be concealed, and too scandalous to be justified, by saying he was bred in the latitude of foreign climates, and now lived in a vicious age and court ; where his accusers of this crime were as guilty as himself. He lay under so ill a name for this, that whenever he was shut up in his chamber, as he loved to be, nescio quid, or in his laboratory, meditans purgarum, over the fumes of charcoal, it was said to be with \vomen. When a dirty chymist, a foxhunter, a pretender to poetry or politicks, a rehearsal should entertain him, when a messenger to summon him to council could not be admitted. This is true of him, that of all the noise made of his loving women, he never had so much as a bastard laid to his charge, that he or any body else believed to be his own. Some pretended to love his person, but it was his estate, which smarted for it. It is hard to tell by his expence which was his favourite pleasure, I think, his chymistry at home, and fox-hunting abroad. I will conclude his character with sayingj that if human frailty will not ex- cuse these faults, let Christian charity oblige us to hope, that as God gave him time, he gave him also the grace of true repentance. We are now come to the last scene of the tragi-comedy of his life. At the death of king Charles he went into the country to his own manor of Helmesly, the seat of the earls of Rutland in Yorkshire. King Charles was his best friend, he loved him and excused his faults. He was not so well assured of his successor. In the country he passed his time in hunting, and entertain- ing his friends ; which he did a fortnight before his death as pleasantly and hospitably as ever he did in his life. He took cold one day after fox-hunting, by sitting on the cold ground, which cast him into an ague and fever, of which he died, after three days sickness, at a tenant's house, Kirby more side, a lordship of his own, near Helmesly, Ap. 16, 1688 ; aetat. 60. The day before his death he sent to his old servant Mr. Brian Fairfax, to desire him to provide him a bed at his house at Bishop-hill at York, but the next morning the same man returned with the news that his life was des- E aired of. Mr. Fairfax went post, but before he got to him he was speech- es. The earl of Arran, son to duke Hamilton, was with him ; who, hearing he was sick, visited him in his way to Scotland. When Mr. Fairfax came, the duke knew him, look'd earnestly at him, and held him by the hand, but could not speak. Mr. Fairfax ask'd a gentleman there present, a justice of peace, and a worthy discreet man in the neigh- bourhood, what he had said or done before he became speechless. He told 10 Other Characters of me some questions had been asked him about his estate, to which be gave to answer. Then he was admonished of the danger he was in, which he seemed not to apprehend ; he was ask'd, if he would have the minister of the parish sent for to pray with him, to which he gave no answer ; which made another question be asked, If he would have a popish priest ; to which he answered with great vehemence, no, no ! repeating the words, He would have nothing to do with them. Then the aforesaid gentleman, Mr. Gibson, ask'd him again if he would have the minister sent for, and he calmly answered, Yes, pray send for him. This was the morning and he died that night. The minister came, and did the office required by the church ; the duke devoutly attending it, and received the sacrament, and an hour after became speechless ; but appearing sensible, we had the prayers of the church repeated by his bed-side, recommending him to the mercy of God, through the merits of Jesus Christ. Thus he died quietly in his bed, the fate of few of his predecessors in the title of Buckingham. His body was embalmed and brought to Westminster- abbey, and there laid in the vault with his father and brothers, in Hen. the Vllth's chapel. Mary dutchess of Buckingham was the only daughter of Thomas lord Fairfax, and Ann, the daughter of Horace Lord Vere. A most virtuous and pious lady, in a vitious age and court. If she had any of the vanities, she had certainly none of the vices of it. The duke and she lived lovingly and decently together ; she patiently bearing with those faults in him which she could not remedy. She survived him many years, and died near St James at Westminster, and was buried in the vault of the family of Villiers, in Hen. Vllth's chapel, anno 1705. setaL 66. 2. The following, in grisly contrast to Fairfax's account, comes from Lord PETERBOROUGH. The witty Duke of Buckingham was an extreme bad man. His duel with Lord Shrewsbury was concerted between him and Lady Shrewsbury. AH that morning she was trembling for her gallant, and wishing the death of her husband ; and, after his fall, 'tis said the duke slept with her in bis bloody shirt. Spenr.es Anecdotes, Malone's Edition, 1820, p. 164. 3. Bp. G. BURNET, in his History of my aunt Times, gives this character : He had a great liveliness of wit, and a peculiar faculty of turning all things into ridicule with bold figures and natural descriptions. He had no sort of literature : Only he was drawn into chymistry : And for some years he thought he was very near the finding the philosopher's stone : which had the effect that attends on all such men as he was, when they are drawn in, to lay out for it. He had no principles of religion, vertue, or friendship. Pleasure, frolick, or extravagant diversion was all that he laid to heart. He was true to nothing, for he was not true to himself. He had no steadiness nor conduct. He could keep no secret, nor execute any design without spoiling it. He could never fix his thoughts, nor govern his estate, tho' then the greatest in England. He was bred about the King : And for many years he had a great ascendent over him ; But he spake of him to all persons with that contempt, that at last he drew a lasting disgrace upon himself. And he at length ruined both body and mind, fortune and reputation equally. The madness of vice appeared in his person in very eminent instances ; since at last he became contemptible and poor, sickly, and sunk in his parts, as weU as in all other respects, so that his conversation was as muoS avoided as ever it had been courted. He found the King, when he came from his travels in the year 45, newly come to Paris, sent over by his father when his affairs declined : And finding the King enough inclined to receive ill impressions, he, who was then got into all the impieties and vices of the age, set himself to corrupt the King, in which he was too successful, being seconded in that wicked design by the Lord Percy. And to compleat the matter, Hobbs was brought to him, under the pretence of instructing him in mathematicks : And he laid before him his schemes, both with relation to religion and politicks, which made deep and lasting impressions on the King's mind. So that the main blame of the King's ifl principles, and bad morals, was owing to the Duke of Buckingham, i. 100. Ed. 1724. 4. Count GRAMMO.NT, in his Memoirs, thus sketches him about the year 1663. GEORGE VILLIERS, Duke of BUCKINGHAM. n At this time the king's attachment to Miss Stewart [afterwards privately married to the Duke of Richmond, which marriage was publicly declared in Apr. 1667] was so public, that every person perceived, that if she was but possessed of art, she might become as absolute a mistress over his conduct as she was over his heart. This was a fine opportunity for those who had expe- rience and ambition. The Duke of Buckingham formed the design of govern- ing her in order' to ingratiate himself with the king ; God knows what a governor he would have been, and what a head he was possessed of, to guide another ; however, he was the properest man in the world to insinuate him- self with Miss Stewart ; she was childish in her behaviour, and laughed at every thing, and her taste for frivolous amusements, though unaffected, was only allowable in a girl about twelve or thirteen years old. A child, however, she was, in every other respect, except playing with a doll ; blind-man's bufl was her most favourite amusement ; she was building castles of cards, while the deepest play was going on in her apartments, where you saw her sur- rounded by eager courtiers, who handed her the cards, or young architects, who endeavoured to imitate her. She had, however, a passion for music, and had some taste for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, who built the finest towers of cards imaginable, had an agreeable voice : she had no aversion to scandal ; he made songs, and invented old women's stories with which she was delighted ; but his par- ticular talent consisted in turning into ridicule whatever was ridiculous in other people, and in taking them off, even in their presence, without their perceiving it. In short, he knew how to act all parts, with so much grace and pleasantry, that it was difficult to do without him, when he had a mind to make himself agreeable ; and he made himself so necessary to Miss Stewart's amusement-, that she sent all over the town to seek for him, when he did not attend the king to her apartments. He was extremely handsome, and still thought himself much more so than he really was ; although he had a great deal of discernment ; yet his vanity made him mistake some civilities as intended for his person, which were only bestowed on his wit and drollery, pp. 141^-2. Ed. 1846. 5. SAMUEL BUTLER, Author of Hudibrasjm a collection of Characters chiefly written between 1667 and 1669, in Wales ; but first printed by R. Thyer, in Genuine Remains, in 1759, has the following one, entitled A Duke of Bucks. Is one that has studied the whole Body of Vice. His Parts are dispropor- tionate to the whole, and like a Monster he has more of some, and less of others than he should have. He has pulled down all that Fabric that Nature raised in him, and built himself up again after a Model of his own. He has dam'd up all those Lights, that Nature made into the noblest Prospects of the World, and opened other little blind Loopholes backward, by turning Day into Night, and Night into Day. His Appetite to his Pleasures is dis- eased and crazy, like the Pica in a Woman, that longs to eat that, which was never made for Food, or a Girl in the Green-sickness, that eats Chalk and Mortar. Perpetual Surfeits of Pleasure have filled his Mind with bad and vicious Humours (as well as his Body with a Nursery of Diseases) which makes him affect new and extravagant Ways, as being sick and tired with the Old. Continual Wine, Women, and Music put false Values upon Things, which by Custom become habitual, and debauch his Understanding so, that he retains no right Notion nor Sense of Things. And as the same Dose of the same Physic has no Operation on those, that are much used to it ; so his Pleasures require a larger Proportion of Excess and Variety, to render him sensible of them. He rises, eats, and goes to Bed by the Julian Account^ long after all others that go by the new Stile ; and keeps the same Hours with Owls and the Antipodes. He is a great Observer of the Tar- tars Customs, and never eats, till the great Cham having dined makes Pro- clamation, that all the World may go to Dinner. He does not dwell in his House, but haunt[s] it, like an evil Spirit, that walks all Night to disturb the Family, and never appears by Day. He lives perpetually benighted, runs out of his Life, and loses his Time, as Men do their Ways in the Dark ; and as blind Men are led by their Dogs, so is he governed by some mean Servant or other, that relates to his Pleasures. He is as inconstant as the Moon, rhich he lives under ; and altho' he does nothing but advise with his Pillow 12 Other Characters of G. VILLIERS, Duke of Buckingham. all Day, he is as great a Stranger to himself, as he is to the rest of the World. His Mind entertains all Things very freely, that come and go ; but, like Guests and Strangers they are not welcome, if they stay long This lays Nature, while he intends to adorn her, like Indians, that hang Jewels in their Lips and Noses. His Ears are perpetually drilled with a Fiddlestick. He endures Pleasures with less Patience, than other Men do their Pains, it. 72 5 . 6. DRYDE.V published anonymously, on i7th November, 1681, the first part of Absalom and Achitophel (which went through five editions in two years) in which he gives the following character of Buckingham : Such were the tools ; but a whole Hydra more Remains, of sprouting heads too long, to score. Some of their Chiefs were Princes of the Land : In the first Rank of these did Zimri stand : A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all Mankinds Epitome. Stiff in Opinions, always in the wrong ; Was every thing by starts, and nothing long : But, in the course of one revoking Moon, Was Chymist, Fidler, States-Man, and Buffoon : Then all for Women, Painting, Rhiming, Drinking ; Besides ten thousand freaks that dy*d in thinking. Blest Madman, who coud every hour employ I With something New to wish, or to enjoy ! Rayling and praising were his usual Theams : And both (to shew his Judgment) in Extreams : So over Violent, or over Civil, That every man, with him, was God or DeviL In squandring Wealth was his peculiar Art : Nothing went unrewarded, but Desert. Begger d by Fools, whom still he found too late : He had his Jest, and they had his Estate. He laught himself from Court, then sought Relief By forming Parties, but coud ne're be Chief: For, spight of him, the weight of Business fell On Absalom and his wise Achitophel: Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, He left not Faction, but of that was left. Dryden, writing after Buckingham was dead and buried his Dedication [the subject of which is the Origin and Progress of Satire] to the Satires of Juvenal, London, fol. 1693, gives his own opinion of this sketch : How easie it is to call Rogue and Villain, and that wittily T But how hard to make a Man appear a Fool, a Blockhead, or a Knave, without using any of those opprobrious terms? To spare the grossness of the Names, and to do the thing yet more severely. . . . This is the Mystery of that Noble Trade ; which yet no Master can teach to his Apprentice : He may give the Rules, but the Scholar is never the nearer in his practice. _ Neither is it true, that this fineness of Raillery is offensive. A witty Man is tickl'd while he is hurt in this manner ; and a Fool feels it not. The occasion of an Offence may possibly be given, but he cannot take it. ... I wish I cou'd apply it to my self, if the Reader wou'd be kind enough t think it belongs to me. The have suffer'd for it justly : But I manag'd my own Work more happily, per- haps more dextrously. I avoided the mention of great Crimes, and apply'd my self to the representing of Blind-sides, and little Extravagancies. To which, the wittier a Man is,, he is generally the more obnoxious. It suc- ceeded as I wish'd ; the Jest went round, and he was laught at in his tut* iv> began the Frolick p. jrlii. THE REHEARSAL INTRODUCTION. |N the year 1708, was publifhed in London, Rofrius Anglicamis, or an Hijlorical Re- view of the Stage, by JOHN DOWNES. In a prefatory Addrefs ' To the Reader,' he gives the following account of himfelf : The Editor of the enfuing Relation, being long Converfant with the Plays and Actors of the Original Company, under the Patent of Sir William Davenant, at his Theatre in Linco/ns- Inn-Fields, Open'd there 1662. And as Book keeper and Prompter, continu'd fo, till Oftober 1706. He Writing out all the Parts in each Play ; and Attending every Morning the Actors Rehearfals, and their Performances in Afternoons ; Emboldens him to affirm, he is not very Erronious in his Relation. But as to the Actors of Drury-Lane Company, under Mr. Thomas Killigrew, he having the Account from Mr. Charles Booth. fometimes Book-keeper there ; If he a little Deviates, as to the Succeffive Order, and exact time of their Plays Performances, He begs Pardon of the Reader, and Subscribes himfelf, His very Humble Servant. John Downes. He then proceeds to give an account of the two companies, their members, plays, &c., of which the following are fome of the more effential portions : In the Reign of King Charles the Firft, there were Six Play Houfes allow'd in Town : The Black-Fryars Company, His Majefty's Servants ; The Bull in St. Johrts-Jlreet ; another in Salisbury Court ; another call'd the Fortune ; another at the Globe ; and the Sixth at the Cock-Pit in Drury-Lane ; all which continu'd Acting till the beginning of the faid Civil Wars. The fcattered Remnant of feveral of thefe Houfes, upon King Charles's Reftoration, Fram'd a Company who Acted again at the Bull, and Built them a new Houfe in Gibbon's Tennis Court in Clare-Market ; in which Two Places they continu'd Acting all 1660, 1661, 1662 and part of 1663. In this time they Built them a New Theatre in Drury Lane : Mr. Thomas KtiKgrew gaining a Patent from the King in order to Create them the King's Servants ; and from that time, they call'd themfelves his Majefty's Company of Comedians in Drury Lane. . . . The Company being thus Compleat, they open'd the New Theatre in Drury-Lane, on Thurfday in Eajler Week, being the 8th, Day of April 1663. With The Humorous Lieutenant. * * PP '-3- 14 Jntrodufiion. Many others {i.e. Pkys] were Acted by the Old Company at the Theatre Royal, from the time they begun, till the Patent defcended to Mr. Charles Killigrew, which in 1682, he join'd it to Dr. Davenanfs Patent, whofe Company Acted then in Dorset Garden, which upon the Union, were Created the King's Com- pany : After which, Mr. Hart Acted no more, having a Penfion to the Day of his Death, from the United Company.* Next follows an Account of the Rife and Progreffion, of the Dukes Servants ; under the Patent of Sir William Davenant who upon the faid Junction in 1682, remov'd to the Theatre Royal in Drury-Lane, and Created the King's Company. In the Year 1659, General Monk, Marching then his Army out of Scotland to London. Mr. Rhodes a Bookfeller being Wardrobe-Keeper formerly (as I am inform'd) to King Charles the Firft's, Company of Comedians in Black-Friars ; getting a Licenfe from the then Governing State, fitted up a Houfe then for Acting call'd the Cock Pit in Drury-Lane, and in a fhort time Compleated his Company, f In this Interim, Sir William Davenant gain'd a Patent from the King, and Created Mr. Betterton and all the reft of Rhodes'* Company, the King's Servants ; who were Sworn by my Lord Manchejler then Lord Chamberlain, to Serve his Royal Highnefs the Duke of York, at the Theatre in LincoMs-Inn Fields. J . . . His Company being now Compleat, Sir William in order to prepare Plays to Open his Theatre, it being then a Building in Lincoln 's-Inn Fields, His Company Rehears'd the Firft and Second Part of 'The Siege of Rhodes' 1 ; and 'The Wits' at Pothecaries-Hall". And in Spring 1662, Open'd his Houfe with the faid Plays, having new Scenes and Decorations, being the firft that e're were Introduc'd in England. .... Thefe being all the Principal, which we call'd Stock-Plays ; that were Afted from the Time they Open'd the Theatre in 1662, to the beginning of May 1665, at which time the Plague began to Rage: The Company ceas'd Afting; till the Chrijl- ma/s after the Fire hi i666.|| .... The new Theatre in Dorfet-Garden being Finifh'd, and our Company after Sir William's [Davenant] Death, being under the Rule and Dominion of his Widow the Lady Davenant, Mr Betterton, and Mr Harris, (Mr Charles Davenant her Son AcJing for her) they remov'd from Lincolns-Inn-Fields thither. And on the Ninth Day of November 1671, they open'd their new Theatre with Sir Martin Marral.\ .... All the preceding Plays, being the cheife that were Afied in Dorfet-Garden, from November 1671, to the Year 1682 ; at which time the Patentees of each Company United Patents, and by fo In- corporating the Duke's Company were made the King's Company, and immediately remov'd to the Theatre Royal hi Drury-Lane. * * p. 16. + p.i7- Jp-i9- P-*>- ||p. 26. IT p. 31. **p. Introduction. 15 Such is the hiftory, by an eye-witnefs, of the London flage foon after the Reftoration. The then general flate of fociety and town life is defcribed in the third chapter of Lord Macaulay's Hi/lory of England. At prefent we have only to deal with one particular fafhion of dramatic compofition. the new, grandiloquent, bombaflic, pfeudo-heroic plays, introduced by D'Avenant, and having for their matter-writer Dryden. It is impoflible here to meafure the extravagance of thefe plays : fomewhat, however, may be gathered from the Illuflrations to the prefent work. Affociated with this was the inordinate ufe of rhym- ing verfe. Dryden in early life fought the battle of rhyme againfl Sir Robert Howard; only afterwards publicly to abandon it, in his Lines to the Earl of Rofcommon, in 1680. To ridicule thefe rhyming mouthing plays and with not a little perfonality after the common cuftom of that time to attack their authors, were the chief objects of Villiers and his coadjutors in writing The Rehearfal. Its merit however is as much in its con- ception as in its execution : in feeing that the popular rant was rant, and in determining to expofe it : as in writing the lludied nonfenfe of which this play is fo largely compofed. Hence, the importance of The Rehearfal in our national literature, is not fo much from its intrinfic merits, moft laughable as are fome of the parodies; but from its marking defpite a partial failure to influence at the time a bend in the dream of dramatic compofition. Twofcholars, who have well ftudied this portion of our literary hiftory, give the following accounts of this play. EDMOND MALONE, in his Life of Dryden^ thus writes : The great fuccefs which had attended Dryden's heroick plays, doubtlefs excited the jealoufy of the rival candidates for fame. In this clafs, however, we cannot place Villiers, Duke of Buck- ingham, who was fo far from exercifing his pen in any perform- ance of that kind, that he thought the loud applaufe which had. been beftowed for fome years on the rhyming tragedies produced 1 6 Introduction. by D'Avcnant, Dryden, Stapylton, Howard, Killigrew, and others, much mifplaced, and refolved to correct the pullick tafte by holding them up to ridicule. With this view, in con- junction, it is faid, with Martin Clifford, Matter of the Charter Houfe, Butler, Sprat, and others, he wrote the celebrated fare* entitled THE REHEARSAL. Some of the contemporary writer? have ftated, that it took up as much time as the Siege of Troy ; and with juftice exprefs their furprife, that fuch a combination of wits, and a period of ten years, fhould 'have been requifite for a work, which apparently a lefs numerous band could have produced without fuch mighty throws. In the Key to this piece, publifhed by a bookfeller in 1704, we are told, that it was written, and ready for reprefentation, before the middle of the year 1665, and that Sir Robert Howard, under the name of Bilboa, was then intended to have been the hero of the fa ~ce. That fome interlude of this kind might have been thus early intended, is not improbable, but affuredly the original hero was not Howard, but D'Avenant ; not only on account of the name of Bilboa, which alludes to his military character, (for he was Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance under the Duke of New- caftle, in the Civil Wars,) but from the circumftance of the patch that in the courfe of the drama he is obliged to wear on his nofe : which can relate to none but D'Avenant. Befides, he was a much more diftinguifhed character, not only as Poet Laureate, but as fuperintendant of the Duke of York's Company of Come- dians, and the introducer of heroick plays on the Englifh ftige. The allufions to Sir Robert Howard's tragedies are fo few and inconfiderable, that he never could have been the author's prin- cipal object. As foon as it was refolved that Dryden fhould be the hero, an abundant use was made of his INDIAN EMPEROB and CONQUEST OF GRANADA ; yet the author was unwilling to lofe any of the ftrokes which were peculiarly levelled at D'Aven/int. and thus the piece became a kind of patchwork. This lively farce was firft performed on the 7th of December, 1671, and was publifhed hi the following year Much of the fuccefs, doubtlefs, was owing to the mimickry employed, Dryden's drefs, and manner, and ufual expreffions, were aU minutely copied, and the Duke of Buckingham took incredible pains in teaching Lacy, the original performer of Bayes, to fpeak fome paffages of that part, in thefe he probably imitated Dryden's mode of recitation, which was by no means excellent * A more recent editor, Mr. ROBERT BELL in his Life of Dryden prefixed to his Poetical Works, gives this account of the prefent play. Davenant enjoys the credit of having introduced what were called heroic plays. Dryden eftablifhed them. They were Critical and Mis. Prose Work* ofj. Dryden, L 94100. Ed. 1800. Introduftion. t7 called heroic becaufe they were written in a language elevated above nature, and exhibit paffion in a ftate of maniacal ecftafy. Thefe pieces had now held poffeffion of the ftage fome nine or ten years, when the Duke of Buckingham undertook to expofe their abfurdities in The Rehearfal, produced in the winter of 1671. It is faid that he was affified in the defign by Butler, Sprat, Clifford, and others. This is probable enough, from the ftructure of the ridicule, which refembles a piece of mofaic work. Davenant was originally meant for the hero, but his recent death feems to have led to the fubftitution of Dryden, who was on other accounts a more confpicuous mark for this fort of fatire. Not fatisfied with parodying fome of the moft familiar paffages in Dryden's plays, the Duke of Buckingham took confiderable pains in teaching Lacy, who performed Bayes, to mimic his author in his manner of reciting them. Dryden was notorioufly a bad reader, and had a hefitating and tedious delivery, which, Ikilfully imitated in lines of furpafiing fury and extravagance, muft have produced an irrefiftible effect upon the audience. The humour was enhanced by the drefs, gefticulations, and by- play of the actor, which prefented a clofe imitation of his original. Dryden bore this unwarrantable attack in filence ; being fully conscious, no doubt, that fo far as it reflected upon his plays it was unanfwerable. But he afterwards fhowed that he had a keen fenfe of the obligations the duke had laid him under on this occafion, and he difcharged them in full, with compound intereft, in his Abfalom and Achitophel. The town was highly amufed, although its tafte was not in the lead degree corrected, by The Rehearfal. Heroic plays con- tinued to flourifh as long as Dryden continued to write them ; a drudgery which his neceffities impofed upon him for feveral years afterwards. . . . Milton died on the 8th of November, 1674. . . .f Five editions of The Rehearfal appeared in the Author's life time. Of the fecond and third I cannot learn even the dates. There is a copy of the fourth, 1683, in the Bodleian. An examination of the fifth, 1687, would feem to mow a general permanence of the text, but that, probably in each edition, there were here and there additions and alterations en bloc, infli- gated by the appearance of frefh heroic plays : fome of thefe additions increafe, with the multiplying cor- ruption of the times, in perfonality and moral offenfive- nefs. For our literary hiflory, the firfl edition is fuffi- cient. That, the reader now has. A final. Ed. qfEng. Poets. J. Dryden, L 40 42. Ed. 1854. B 18 BIBLIOGRAPHY. 'THE REHEARSAL.' * Editions not seen, t Editions having the ' Key ' either before or after th* text. having the ' Key ' in footnotes. (a) Issurs fa tfit author's lifetime. I. As a separate publication. \. 1672. London. J vol. 410. Editio printeps ; see title at p. 5. 2. 1 Second edition. 3- t Third edition. 4. '1683. Leaden, i voL 4to. Fourth edition* There is a copy in Bod- leian Library. 5- 1687. London. I voL 410. Title as Xo. 1. 'The Fifth Edition with Amendments and large Additions by the Author.' (t) Essurs since tjc 3 titter's Best}. L As a separate publication. 6- 1692. London. I vol. 410. Title as No. 1. The Sixth Edition. 7. 1701. London, i vol. 410. Title as No. 1. The Seventh Edition. 10. 1710, London. I voL 8vo. 'The Rehearsal'; a Comedy Written b> his Grace, GEORGE late Duke of BUCKINGHAM to expose some Plays then in vogue, and their Authors. With a Key and Remarks, necessary to Illustrate th~ most material passages of this piece, and to point out the authors and Writings here exposed. Never Printed with it before. London Printed in the year 1710. 15- ti735- London. ivoLSvo. "The Rehearsal '&c. The Thirteenth Edition. 15. ti755- London. iroLSvo. 'The Rehearsal ' &c- The Fifteenth Edition. 16- 1768. London. ivoLSvo "The Rehearsal' &c. The Seventeenth Edition. With the new occasional Prologue, written by PAUL WHITEHEAD Esq. on opening Coveni Garden Theatre, Sept the i4th 1767. 21- 2 Nov. 1868. London, i voL 8vo. English Reprints. See title at page i. II. With, other Works. 8. '1704. London. ? vols. Svo. Works. First edition. 11. 1711-12. London. A CoUectionof the best English PJays. Chosen 10 rols. 8vo. out of all the best Authors. Printed for the Company of Booksellers. 'The Rehearsal' is in Vol. ii. 12. ti7is(i7i4)- London. The Dramatick works of his Grace George a vols. 8vo. Villiers, Late Duke of Buckingham. With his Mis- cellaneous Poems, Essays and Letters. Adorn d w*l the past age, and rail at the present ; and so took my The United Kingdom!, fy Col. Henry Harvard. See pp. 46 and 90.) Continued at p. 31. ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 27 SMI. Indeed, I have ever obferved, that your grave lookers are the dulleft of men. JOHNS. I, and of Birds, and Beads too : your graveft Bird is an Owl, and your graveft Beaft is an Afs. SMI. Well ; but how doft thou pafs thy time ? JOHNS. Why, as I ufe to do ; eat and drink as well as I can, have a She-friend to be private with in the afternoon, and fometimes fee a Play : where there are fuch things (Frank} such hideous, monftrous things, that it has almoft made me forfwear the Stage, and refolve to apply my felf to the folid nonfence of your pretenders to Bufmefs, as the more ingenious paftime. SMI. I have heard, indeed, you have had lately many new Plays, and our Country-wits commend 'em. JOHNS. I, fo do fome of our City-wits too ; but they are of the new kind of Wits. SMI. New kind ? what kind is that ? JOHNS. Why, your Blade, your frank Perfons, your Drolls : fellows that fcorn to imitate Nature ; but are given altogether to elevate and furprife. SMI. Elevate, and furprife ? pr'ythee make me under- ftand the meaning of that. JOHNS. Nay, by my troth, that's a hard matter : I don't underftand that my felf. Tis a phrafe they have got among them, to exprefs their no-meaning by. I'l tell you, as well as I can, what it is. Let me fee ; 'tis Fighting, Loving, Sleeping, Rhyming, Dying, Dancing, Singing, Crying ; and every thing, but Thinking and Sence. Mr. BAYES paffes rfer the Stage. BAYES. Your moft obfequious, and moft obfervant, very fervant, Sir. JOHNS. Godfo, this is an Author : I'l fetch him to you. SMI. Nay, pr'ythee let him alone. JOHNS. Nay, by the Lord, I'l have him. \Goesafter Aim.] Here he is. I have caught him. Pray, Sir, for my fake, will you do a favour to this friend of mine ? 38 ILLUSTRATIONS, c. 1 There were printed Papers given the Audience before the Acting of the Indian Emperor, telling them, that it was the sequel of the Indian Queen, Part of which Play was written by Mr. Bayes, &c. ... Key 1704. The text of these papers is prefixed to the Play It runs thus. Connexion of the Indian Emperour, to the Indian Queen. THE Conclusion of the Indian Queen, (part of which Poem was writ by me) left little matter for another Story to be built on, there remaining but two of the considerable Characters alive, (viz.) Montezuma and Orazia ; thereupon the Author of this, thought it necessary to produce new perfons from the old ones ; and confidering the late Indian Queen, before (he lov'd Montezuma, liv'd in clandestine Marriage with her General Traxalla ; from thofe two, he has rais'd a Son and two Daugh- ters, fuppofed to be left young Orphans at their Death : On the other fide, he has given to Montezuma and Orazia, two Sons and a Daughter ; all now fuppofed to be grown up to Mens and Womens Estate ; and their Mother Orazia (for whom there was no further ufe in the flory) lately dead. So that you are to imagine about Twenty years elapfed fmce the Coronation of Montezuma ; who, in the Truth of the Hif- tory, was a great and glorious Prince ; and in whofe time hap- pened the Difcovery and Invafion of Mexico by the Spaniards ; under the conduct of Hernando Cortez, who, joyning with the Taxallan-Indians, the invetrate Enemies of Montezuma, wholly Subverted that flourifhing Empire ; the Conquest of which, is the Subject of this Dramatique Poem. I have neither wholly followed the ftory nor varied from it; and, as near as I could, have traced the Native fimph'city and ignorance of the Indians, in relation to European Cuftomes : The Shipping, Armour, Horfes, Swords, and Guns of the Spaniards, being as new to them as their Habits, and their Language. The difference of their Religion from ours, I have taken from the Story it felf ; and that which you find of it in the firfl and fifth Acts, touching the fufferings and conftancy of Montezuma in his Opinions, I have only illuftrated, not alter'd from thofe who have written of it, 8 " Perfons, egad, I vow to gad, and all that " is the conftant ftyle of Failer, in the Wild Gallant ; for which take this fhort speech, inftead of many. .... Key 1 704. Failer. Really Madam, I look upon you as a perfon of fuch worth and all that, that I Vow to gad I honour you of all perfons in the World ; and though I am a perfon that am inconfiderable in the World, and all that Madam, yet for a perfon of your worth and ex- cellency, I would J. DRYDEN. Wild Gallant. Act ii., Scene ii. p. 23. Ed. 1669. ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 39 I'l e'en kneel down, and he fliall cut my head oft". Whereupon they all clapping a SMI. But, fuppofe they do not. EAVES. Suppofe ! Sir, you may fuppofe what you pleafe, I have nothing to do with your fuppofe, Sir, nor am not at all mortifi'd at it ; not at all, Sir ; I gad, not one jot. Suppofe quoth a ! [ Walks away.~\ JOHNS. Phoo ! pr'ythee, Hayes, don't mind what he fays : he's a fellow newly come out of the Country, he knows nothing of what's the relifh,here, of the Town. BAYES. If I writ, Sir, to pleafe the Country, I mould have follow'd the old plain way ; but I write for fome perfons of Quality, and peculiar friends of mine, that underftand what Flame and Power in writing is : and they do me the right, Sir, to approve of what I do. JOHNS. I, I, they will clap, I warrant you ; never fear it. BAYES. I'm fure the defign's good ; that cannot be deny'd. And then, for language, I gad, I dene 'em all, in nature, to mend it. Befides, Sir, I have printed above a hundred meets of papyr, to infmuate the Plot into the Boxes : ' and withal, have appointed two or three dozen of my friends, to be readie in the Pit, who, I'm fure, will clap, and so the reft, you know, muft follow; and then pray, Sir, what becomes of your fuppofe ? ha, ha, ha. JOHNS. Nay, if the bufmefs be fo well laid, it cannot mifs. BAYES. I think fo, Sir : and therefore would chufe this for the Prologue. For if I could engage 'em to clap, before they fee the Play, you know 'twould be fo much the better ; becaufe then they were engag'd : for, let a man write never fo well, there are, now-a- days, a fort of perfons, 2 they call Critiques, that, I gad, have no more wit in 'em than fo many Hobby-horfes ; but they'l laugh you, Sir, and find fault, and cenfuie things that, A gad, I'm fure they are not able to do themfelves. A fort of envious perfons, that emulate the glories of perfons of parts, and think to build their 40 ILL USTRA TIONS. 1 (a) He contradled with the King's Company of Actors, in the Year 1668, for a whole Share, to write them four Plays a Year. Key 1704. (b) E. Malone, Life of Dryden, p. 72-74, Ed. 1800, adduces evidence to fliow that the number of plays was three a year, for which Dryden received \\ share in the King's Company, equal to about (, 300 or 400 a ycir. ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 41 fame, by calumniating of perfons that, I gad, to my knowledge, of all perfons in the world are, in nature, the perfons that do as much defpife all that, as a In fine, I'l fay no more of 'em. JOHNS. I, I, you have faid enough of 'em in con- fcience: I'm hire more than they'l ever be able to anfwer. BAYES. Why, I'l tell you, Sir, fincerely, and bona fide ; were it not for the fake of fome ingenious per- fons, and choice female fpirits, that have a value for me, I would fee 'em all hang'd before I would e'er more fet pen to papyr ; but let 'em live in ignorance like ingrates. JOHNS. I marry ! that were a way to be reveng'd of 'em indeed : and, if I were in your place, now, I would do it. BAYES. No, Sir ; there are certain tyes upon me, 1 that I cannot be difingag'd from ; otherwife, I would. But pray, Sir, how do you like my hang-man ? SMI. By my troth, Sir, I mould like him very well. BAYES. I, but how do you like it ? (for I fee you can judge) Would you have it for the Prologue, or the Epilogue? JOHNS. Faith, Sir, it's fo good, let it e'en ferve tor both. BAYES. No, no; that won't do. Befides, I have made another. JOHNS. What other, Sir ? BAYES. Why, Sir, my other is Thunder and Light- ning. JOHNS. That's greater : I'd rather flick to that. BAYES. Do you think fo ? I'l tell you then ; though there have been many wittie Prologues written of late, yet I think you'l fay this is a non pareillo : I'm fure no body has hit upon it yet. For here, Sir, I make my Prologue to be Dialogue : and as, in my firfl, you fee I ftrive to oblige the Auditors by civility, by good na- ture, and all that ; fo, in this, by the other way, in 42 ILLUSTRATIONS. l Altnah. So, two kind Turtles, when a dorm is nigh Look up, and fee it gath'ring in the Skie. Each calls his Mate to fhelter in the Groves, Leaving, in murmures, their unfinifh'd Loves, Perch'd on fome dropping Branch they lit alone, And Cooe, and hearken to each others moan. J. DRYDEN. The Conqueft of Granada. Part II., Act i. Sc. il, p. 82. Ed. 1672. 'Song in Dialogue. Evening. / am an Evening dark as Night, ]&c\i-with-the-Lantern bring a Light. Jack. Whither, whither, whither'i [Within. Evening. Hither, hither, hither. Jack. Thou art fome pratling Eccho, of my making. Evening. Thou art a Fooli/h Fire, by thy miflaking I am the Evening that creates thee. Enter Jack in a black Suit border'd with Glow-worms, a Coronet of Shaded Beams on his head, over it a Paper Lantern with a Candle in't. ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 43 Terrorem, I chufe for the perfons Thunder and Light- ning. Do you apprehend the conceipt ? JOHNS. Phoo, pox ! then you have it cock-fure. They'l be hang'd, before they'l dare affront an Author, that has 'em at that lock. BAYES. I have made, too, one of the mod delicate, daintie Simile's in the whole world, I gad, if I knew but how to applie it. SMI. Let's hear it, I pray you. BAYES. 'Tis an allufion to love. 1 So Boar and Sow, when any florm is nigh, Snuff up, and fmell it gath'ring in the Skie : Boar beckons Sow to trot in Chefnunt Groves, And there confummate their unfmifh'd Loves. Penfive in mud they wallow all alone, And fnort, and gruntle to each others moan. How do you like it now, ha? JOHNS. Faith, 'tis extraordinary fine : and very ap- plicable to Thunder and Lightning, methinks, becaufe it fpeaks of a Storm. BAYES. I gad, and fo it does, now I think on't. Mr. Johnfon, I thank you : and I'l put it in profefto. Come out, Thunder and Lightning. 3 Enter Thunder and Lightning. Thun. I am the bold Thunder. BAYES. Mr. Cartwright, pr'ythee fpeak a little louder, and with a hoarfer voice. I am the bold Thunder 1 Pfhaw ! fpeak it me in a voice that thun- ders it out indeed : I am the bold Thunder. Thun. I am the bold Thunder. Light. The brisk Lightning, I. BAYES. Nay you mufl be quick and nimble. The brisk Lightning, I. That's my meaning. Thun. I am the braved Heflor of the Skie. Light. And I, fair Helen, that made Heftor die. 44 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. Jack. My Lantern and my Candle waits thee. Evening. Thofe Flajolets that we heard play, Are Reapers who have loft their way ; They Play, they Sing, they Dance a-Round, Lead them up, here's Faery-ground. Chorus. Let the Men ware the Ditches ; Maids, look to your Breeches, we^ If cratch them with Briars and Thiftles : when the Flajolets cry, we are a-dry ; Pond-water Jhall wet their whiftles. [Exeunt Evening, Winds, 6" Jack SIR R. STAPYLTON. The Slighted Maid. Act iii., pp. 48, 49. Ed. 1663. 1 Abraham Ivory had formerly been a confiderable After of Womens Parts ; but afterwards stupify'd himfelf fo far, with drinking ftrong Waters, that, before the firft Afting of this Farce, he was fit for nothing, but to go of Errands ; for which, and meer Chanry, the Company allow'd him a Weekly Sallary. . Key 1704. ACT. L THE REHEARSAL. 45 Thun. I flrike men down. Light. I fire the Town. Thun. Let the Critiques take heed how theygrumble, For then begin I for to rumble. Light. Let the Ladies allow us their graces, Or I'l blafl all the paint on their faces, And dry up their Peter to foot. Thun. Let the Critiques look to't. Light. Let the Ladies look to't. Thun. For Thunder will do't. Light. For Lightning will moot Thun. I'l give you dam for dam. Light. I'l give you flafli for flam. Gallants, I'l finge your Feather. Thun. I'l Thunder you together. Both. Look to't, look to't ; we'l do't, we'l do't : look to't, we'l do't. [Twice or thrice repeated. \Exeunt ambo. BAYES. That's all 'Tis but a flam of a Prologue : a Droll. SMI. 'Tis fhort, indeed ; but very terrible. BAYES. Ay, when the fimile is in, it will do to a Miracle, I gad. Come, come ; begin the Play. Enter fir/I Player. i Play. Sir, Mr. Ivory is not come yet ; but he'l be here prefently, he's but two doors off. BAYES. Come then, Gentlemen, let's go out and take a pipe of Tobacco. \Excunt. Finis Actus primi. 46 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. 1 (a) Drake Sett. Draw up our Men ; and in low Whifpers give our Orders out [SIR W. D'AVENANT.] Play-Houfelo be Lett, p. 100. (V) See the Amorous Prince, pag. 20, 22, 39, 60, where you will find all the chief Commands, and Directions, are given in Whifpers. Key 1704. As I have been unable to fee a Copy of the firfl of thefe Plays, I infert GERARD LANGBAINE'S defcription of it Play-Houfe to be Let. I know not under what Species to place this Play, it confifting of feveral Pieces of different Kinds hand- fomely tackt together, feveral of which the Author writ in the times of Oliver, and were acted feparately by ftealth; as the Hiftory of Sr Francis Drake expreft by Inftrumental, and Vocal Mufick, and by Art of Perfpective in Scenes, &c. The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru. Thefe two Pieces were firfl printed in quarto. They make the third and fourth Acts of this Play. The fecond Act confifts of a French Farce, tranflated from Molierfs Sganarelle, on Le Cocu Imaginaire, and purpofely by our Author put into a fort of Jargon common to French-men newly come over. The fifth Act confifts of Tragedie travestie, or the Actions of Cafar Antony and Cleopatra in Verfe Bur- lefque. This Farce I have feen acted at the Theatre in Dorfct- garden fome Years ago, at the end of that excellent Tragedy of Pompey, tranflated by the incomparable Pen of the much admired Orimla. pp. 109 no. Ed. 1691. BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO 'THE REHEARSAL.* Continucf /rom page 36. Then appear' d such plays as these ; THE SIEGE OF RHODES, Part I. acted at the Cock-pit, before the Restoration ; THE PLAY-HOUSE TO BE!/ETT ; THK SLIGHTED MAID ; THE UNITED KINGDOMS ; THE WILD GALLANT ; THE ENGLISH MONSIEUR ; THE VILLAIN ; and the like. You will meet with several passages out of all these, except the UNITED KINGDOMS, (which was never printed) in the following notes ; as you will out of several other plays, which are here omitted. Our most noble author, to manifest his just indignation and hatred of this fulsome new way of writing, used his utmost interest and endeavours to stifle it at its first appearing on the stage, by engaging all his friends to ex- plode, and run down these plays, especially the United 'Kingdoms ; which had like to have brought his life into danger. The author of it being nobly born, of an ancient and numerous family, had many of his relations and friends in the Cock-pit, during the acting it ; some pt them perceiving his Grace to head a party, who were very active in damn- ing the play, by hissing and laughing immoderately at the strange conduct thereof, there were persons laid in wait for him as he came out : but there being a great tumult and uproar in the house and the passages near it, he escaped ; But he was threaten'd hard : however the business was com- posed in a short time, tho* by what means I hare not been informed. Cfncludtd at }ag* 48. THE REHEARSAL* 47 ACTUS II. SC^NA I BAYES, JOHNSON and SMITH. BAYES. Kf^JSSi^ w ' Sir, becaufe I'l do nothing here that ever was done be- fore \Spifs. SMI. A very notable defign, for a Play, indeed. BAYES. Inftead of beginning with a Scene that dif- covers fomething of the Plot, I begin this with a whifper. 1 SMI. That's very new. BAYES. Come, take your feats. Begin Sirs. Enter Gentlemen- UJher and Phyfician. Phys. Sir, by your habit, I fhould ghefs you to be the Gentleman-Ufher of this fumptuous place. UJh. And, by your gait and fafhion, I fhould almofl fufpecSr. you rule the healths of both our noble Kings, under the notion of Phyfician. Phys. You hit my Function right UJh. And you, mine. Phys. Then let's imbrace. UJh. Come then. Phys. Come. JOHNS. Pray, Sir, who are thofe two fo very civil perfons ? BAYES. Why, Sir, the Gentleman-Uflier, and Phy- ficians of the two Kings of Brentford. JOHNS. But how comes it to pafs, then, that they know one another no better ? BAYES. Phoo ! that's for the better carrying on of the Intrigue. JOHNS. Very well 48 BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO THE REHEARSAl. Concluded from page 46. After this, our author endeavoured by writing to expose the follies of the new-fashioned plays in their proper colours, and to set them in so clear a light, that the people might be able to discover what trash it was, of which they were so fond, as he plainly hints in the prologue : and so set himself to the composing of this farce. When his Grace began it, I could never learn, nor is it very material. Thus much we may certainly gather from the editions of the plays reflected on in it, that it was before the end of 1663, and finished before the end of 1664 ; because it had been several times rehears'd, the players were perfect in their parts, and all things in readiness for its acting, before the great plague 1665 ; and that then prevented it. But what was so ready for the stage, and so near being acted at the breaking out of that terrible sickness, was very different from what you have since seen in print. In that he called his poet BILBOA ; by which name, the town generally understood SIB ROBERT HOWARD to be the Person pointed at.* Besides, there were very few of this new sort of plays then extant, ex- cept these before mentioned, at that time ; and more, than were in being, could not be ridiculed. The acting of this farce being thus hindered, it was laid by for several years, and came not on the public theatre, till the year 1671. During this interval, many great Plays came forth, writ in heroick rhyme ; and, on the death of Sir WILLIAM D'AVENANT, i66j, MR. DRYDEN, a new laureat appeared on the staget, much admired, and highly applauded : which moved the Duke to change the name of his poet from BILBOA to BAYES, whose works you will find often mentioned in the following KEY. Thus far, kind reader, I have followed the direction of my new acquaint- ance, to the utmost extent of my memory, without transgressing the bounds he assigned me, and I am free from any fear of having displeased him : I wish I could justly say as much, with relation to the offences I have committed against yourself, and all judicious persons who shall peruse this poor address. I have nothing to say in my own defence : I plead guilty, and throw my- self at your feet, and beg for mercy ; and not without hope, since what I have here writ did not proceed from the least malice in me, to any person or family in the world ; but from an honest design to enable the meanest readers to understand all the passages of this farce, that it may sell the better. I am, with all submission, Your most obliged, humble Servant. 5. A real Key should confine itself to the identical plays and dramatists satirized, nothing more nor less. Bp. Percy searching through all the ante- cedent dramatic literature, may find, did find many parallel passages, but he could adduce nothing to prove these were in the minds of the authors in writing The Rehearsal. Indeed it is improbable that they had in view the 40 or 50 plays to which he refers. His references but illustrate the extent of the mock heroic drama. In the Illustrations of the present work Langbaine and the first Key have been principally followed ; it being noted that the Text is, as first acted on 7 Dec. 1671. Subsequent additions and their illustrations therefore, (such as ridicule Dryden's The Assignation, or Lope in a Nunnery, produced in 1672) are, with two exceptions, not found in it. At the same time, the vacant spaces on the alternate pages will enable enquirers to note the results of further researches. Very small signs appear of this at present : But when the Duke altered the name, he might also suppress the more offensive passages. Before the Rehearsal was acted Sir Robert Howard was upon such good terms vrith fur noble author, that he dedicated to him his Duel of the Stags, Lend. 1688, Bvo. Bp. Percy. + Mr. Dryden became Poet-laureat upon the Death of Sir William Dat* **; htt he had appeared as a Dramatic Writer before, Bp. Percy. ACT. ii. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 49 Phys. Sir, to conclude, SMI. What, before he begins ? , BAYES. No, Sir; you muft know they had been talking of this a pretty while without. SMI. Where ? In the Tyring-room ? BAYES. Why ay, Sir. He's fo dull ! Come, fpeak again. Phys. Sir, to conclude, the place you fill, has more than amply exacted the Talents of a wary Pilot, and all thefe threatning ftorms which, like impregnant Clouds, do hover o'er our heads, (when they once are grafp'd but by the eye of reafon) melt into fruitful mowers of bleflings on the people. BAYES. Pray mark that Allegory. Is not that good ? JOHNS. Yes ; that grafping of a ftorm with the eye is admirable. Phys. But yet fome rumours great are ftirring ; and if Lorenzo mould prove falfe, (as none but the great Gods can tell) you then perhaps would find, that [ Whifpers. BAYES. Now they whifper. UJh. Alone, do you fay ? Phys. No ; attended with the noble [ Whifpers UJJi. Who, he in gray ? Phys. Yes ; and at the head of [ Whifpers. BAYES. Pray mark. Ufli. Then, Sir, moft certain, 'twill in time appear Thefe are the reafons that induc'd 'em to't : Firft, he [ Whifpers. BAYES. Now t'other whifpers. Ufh. Secondly, they [ Whifpers. BAYES. He's at it ftill. UJh. Thirdly, and laftly, both he, and they f Whifpers. D 50 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. 1 Mr. William WinterJJtnll was a moft Excellent, Judicious A<5lor ; and the beft Inflruclor of others : He dy'd in July, 1679 Key 1704. ACT. II. SC. I. THE REHEARSAL. 51 BAYES. There they both whifper. \Exeunt Whijpering. Now, Gentlemen, pray tell me true, and without flattery, is not this a very odd beginning of a Play ? JOHNS. In troth, I think it is, Sir. But why two Kings of the fame place ? BAYES. Why ? becaufe it's new ; and that's it I aim at. I defpife your Johnfon, and Beaumont, that bor- row'd all they writ from Nature : I am for fetching it purely out of my own fancie, I. SMI. But what think you of Sir John Suckling, Sir ? BAYES. By gad, I am a better Poet than he. SMI. Well, Sir ; but pray why all this whifpering ? BAYES. Why, Sir, (befides that it is new, as I told you before) becaufe they are fuppos'd to be Politi- tians ; and matters of State ought not to be divulg'd. SMI. But then, Sir, why BAYES. Sir, if you'l but refpite your curiofity till the end of the fifth Act, you'l find it a piece of patience not ill recompenc'd. [Goes to the door. JOHNS. How doft thou like this, Frank ? Is it not juft as I told thee ? SMI. Why, I did never, before this, fee any thing in Nature, and all that, (as Mr. Bayes fays) fo foolifh, but I could give fome ghefs at what mov'd the Fop to do it ; but this, I confefs, does go beyond my reach. JOHNS. Why, 'tis all alike : Mr. Winter/hull^ hasin- form'd me of this Play before. And I'l tell thee, Frank, thou malt not fee one Scene here, that either properly ought to come in, or is like any thing thou canfl imagine has ever been the practice of the World. And then, when he conies to what he calls good lan- guage, it is, as I told thee, very fantaftical, mod abominably dull, and not one word to the purpofe. SMI. It does furprife me, I am fure, very much. JOHNS. I, but it won't do fo long : by that time thou haft feen a Play or two, that I'l fhew thee, thou wilt be pretty well acquainted with this new kind of Foppery. J2 ILLUSTRATIONS, &e. ACT. n. sc. ii. THE REHEARSAL. 53 SCHEMA II. Enter the two Kings, hand in hand. BAYES. (j*j^^H|Hefe are the two Kings of Brent- ford ; take notice of their flile : 'twas never yet upon the Stage ; but, if you like it, I could make a fhift, perhaps, to fliew you a whole Play, written all juft fo. 1 King. Did you obferve their whifper, brother King? 2 King. I did ; and heard befides a grave Bird fmg That they intend, fweet-heart, to play us pranks. BAYES. This, now, is familiar, becaufe they are both perfons of the fame Qualitie. SMI. 'Sdeath, this would make a man fpew. 1 King. If that defign appears, I'l lug 'em by the ears Until I make 'em crack. 2 King. And fo will I, i'fack. 1 King. You muft begin, Monfoy. 2 King. Sweet Sir, Pardonnes moy. BAYES. Mark that : I Makes 'em both fpeak French, to fhew their breeding. JOHNS. O, 'tis extraordinary fine. 2 King. Then, fpite of Fate, we'l thus combined ftand ; And, like true brothers, walk flill hand in hand. \Exeunt Reges. JOHNS. This is a very Majeflick Scene indeed. BAYES. Ay, 'tis a crufl, a lafling crufl for your Rogue Critiques, I gad : I would fain fee the proudeft of 'em all but dare to nibble at this; 1 gad, if they do, this mall rub their gums for 'em, I promife you. It was I, you muft know, writ the Play I told you of, in this very*Stile : and mall I tell you a very good jeft ? I gad, the Players would not ac~l it : ha, ha, ha. 54 ILLUSTRATION, &c. 1 The Key 1704. refers Prii.ce Pretty-man's falling aflecp in making love, to the play entitled The Loft Lady [by Sir \Y. BERKELEY] London, fol. 1639. In the fifth edition of The Rchearfal, however there is the following addition to the text here. So; now Prince Prettyman comes in, falls afleep, making Love to his Miftrefs, which you know, was a grand Intrigue in a late Play, written by a very honefl Gentleman : a Knight Bp Percy dates that this addition alludes to Querer pro folo querer (To Love only for Love Sake) : a Dramatick romance, written in Spanifh by Don ANTONIO HURTADO DE MENDOZA in 1623, and paraphrafed in Englifli, in 1654, by Sir R. FAXSHAWE, ' during his Confinement to Tankerjly Park in York-Jhire, by Oliver, after the Battail of Worccfter, in which he was taken Prifoner, ferving His Majedy (whom God preferve) as Secretary of Stated Printed London 1671. 410. Bp. Percy thinks the paflage had in view is this, in Act L p. 20. Felisbravo, the young King of Perfia, travelling in fearch of Zelidaura, Queen of Tartaria (whom, it feems, he had never feen) retires into a wood to fliun the noon-tide heat, and taking out his midress's picture, thus rants. Fel, Ifjleep invade me ftrongly, That may fever My life fome minutes from me, my love never. But 'tis impofflble \ofleep (we know) Extended on the Rack : If that be fo, Takes out the Future. Dumb Lamm, come thou forth : Eloquent Mute, For whom high Heav'n and Earth commence a Suit : Of Angel-woman, fair Hermaphrodite ! The Moon's extingui/her \ the Moon-days night ! How could fo fmaJl a Sphear hold fo much day ? fleep 1 now, now, thou conquer'd me But day: That/ttf* thou conquer* ft, I'l not own for mine, Temped I feek, not calm : If the days thine, Thou qneU'ft my body, my Love dill is whole : 1 give thee all of that which is not SouL And, fince in Lodgings from the Street Love lies, Do thou (and fpare not) quarter in my Eyes A while ; I harb'ring fo unwelcome Guest (As Men obey thy Brother Death 's aired) Not as a Lover, but a MORTAL He falls aflcep with the Piflure in his hand. Rif. He's fain a fleep ; fo foon ? What>B#/y is? More like a Husband, then a Lover, this. If Lovers take fuch deeps, what (hall I take, Whom pangs of Love, nor Honour's Trumpets, 'wake ? ajleep. ACT. II. sc. in. THE REHEARSAL. 55 SMI. That's impoflible. BAYES. I gad, they would not, Sir : ha, ha, ha They refus'd it, I gad, the filly Rogues : ha, ha, ha. JOHNS. Fie, that was rude. BAYES. Rude ! I gad, they are the rudefl, uncivil- efl perfons, and all that, in the whole world : I gad, there's no living with 'em. I have written, Mr. jfohn- fon, I do verily believe, a whole cart-load of things, every whit as good as this, and yet, I vow to gad, thefe infolent Raskals have turn'd 'em all back upon my hands again. JOHNS. Strange fellows indeed. SMI. But pray, Mr. Bayes, how came thefe two Kings to know of this whifper ? for, as I remember, they were not prefent at it. BAYES. No, but that's the Actors fault, and not mine ; for the Kings mould (a pox take 'em) have pop'd both their heads in at the door, juft as the other went off. SMI. That, indeed, would ha' done it. BAYES. Done it ! Ay, I gad, thefe fellows are able to fpoil the befl things in Chriftendom. I'l tell you, Mr. J^ohnfon, I vow to gad, I have been fo highly dif- oblig'd, by the peremptorinefs of thefe fellows, that I am refolv'd, hereafter, to bend all my thoughts for the fervice of the JVurfery, and mump your proud Players, I gad. ; SC^ENA III. Enter Prince Pretty-man. ft- ran g e a captive am I grown of late ! Shall I accufe my Love, 01 blame my Fate ? My Love, I cannot ; that is too Divine : And againft Fate what mortal dares repine ? Enter Cloris. But here (he comes. Sure 'tis fome blazing Comet, is it not ? [Lyes down. 56 ILLUSTRATIONS, &>e. ' i>ee note on p. 54. * This rule is moft exactly obferved in Dryden's Indian Emperor, Act iv. Scene iv. Upon a fudden and unexpected miffortune, Almeria thus exprefles her furprife and concern. Aim. All hopes of fafety and of love are gone : As when fome dreadful Thunder-clap is nigh, The winged Fire fhoots fwiftly through the Skie, Strikes and Confumes e're fcarce it does appear, And by the fudden ill, prevents the fear: Such is my ftate in this amazing wo ; It leaves no pow'r to think, much lefe to do : J. DRYDEX. Tht Indian Emperour, p- 50. Ed. 1667. Bp. Peny. * Boabdd to Almahide. As fome fair tulip, by a dorm opprefl, Shrinks up, and folds its filken arms to reil ; And, bending to the blafl, all pale and dead, Hears from within, the wind fmg round its head : So. ftirowded up your beauty disappears ; Unvail my Love ; and lay a fide your fears. JoHNDKYDEN. The Conquefl of Granada, Parti. Aclv. p. 6l, Ed. 1672. ACT. it. sc. in. THE REHEARSAL. 57 BAYES. Blazing Comet ! mark that. I gad, very fine. Pret. But I am fo furpris'd with fleep, I cannot fpeak the reft. 1 [fleeps. BAYES. Does not that, now, furprife you, to fall afleep jufl in the nick ? His fpirits exhale with the heat of his pafiion, and all that, and fwop falls afleep, as you fee. Now, here, (he muftmake zfimile. SMI. Where's the neceflity of that, Mr. Bayes ? BAYES. Becaufe (he's furpris'd. 2 That's a general Rule : you mud ever make a fimile when you are fur- pris'd ; 'tis the new way of writing. ^Claris. As fome tall Pine, which we, on stEtna, find T'have flood the rage of many a boyd'rous wind, Feeling without, that flames within do play, Which would confume his Root and Sap away ; He fpreads his worded Arms unto the Skies, Silently grieves, all pale, repines and dies : So, (hrowded up, your bright eye difappears. Break forth, bright fcorching Sun, and dry my tears. [Exit. BAYES. I am afraid, Gentlemen, this Scene has made you fad ; for I mud confefs, when I writ it, I wept my felf. SMI. No, truly, Sir, my fpirits are almod exhal'd too, and I am likelier to fall afleep. Prince Pretty-man Jlarts up, and fays Pret. It is refolv'd. [Exit. SMI. Mr. ayes t may one be fo bold as to ask you a quedion, now, and you not be angry ? BAYES. O Lord, Sir, you may ask me what you pleafe. I vow to gad, you do me a great deal of honour : you do not know me, if you fay that, Sir. SMI. Then, pray, Sir, what is it that this Prince here has refolv'd in his fleep ? BAYES. Why, I mud confefs, that quedion is well enough ask'd, for one that is not acquainted with this $8 ILLUSTRA TfONS, &*. ACT. ii. sc. iv. THE REHEARSAL. 59 new way of writing. But you muft know, Sir, that, to out-do all my fellow-Writers, whereas they keep their Intrigo fecret till the very lafl Scene before the Dance ; I now, Sir, do you mark me a SMI. Begin the Play, and end it, without ever open- ing the Plot at all ? BAYES. I do fo, that's the very plain troth on't: ha, ha, ha ; I do, I gad. If they cannot find it out themfelves, e'en let 'em alone for Bayes, I warrant you. But here, now, is a Scene of bufmefs : pray ob- ferve it ; for I dare fay you'l think it no unwife dif- courfe this, nor ill argu'd. To tell you true, 'tis a Debate I over-heard once betwixt two grand, fober, governing perfons. SC^ENA IV. Enter Gentleman- UJher and Phyfirian. Sir ; let's ftate the matter of facl, and lay our heads together. Phys. Right : lay our heads to- gether. I love to be merry fome- times ; but when a knotty point comes, I lay my head clofe to it, with a pipe of Tobacco in my mouth, and then I whew it away, i' faith. BAYES. I do juft fo, I gad, always. UJh. The grand queflion is, whether they heard us whifper ? which I divide thus : into when they heard, what they heard, and whether they heard or no. JOHNS. Moft admirably divided, I fwear. UJh. As to the when ; you fay juft now : fo that is anfwer'd. Then, for what ; why, what anfwers it felf : for what could they hear, but what we talk'd of? So that, naturally, and of neceffity, we come to the lafl queflion, Videlicet, whether they heard or no ? SMI. This is a very wife Scene, Mr. Bayes. 60 ILLUSTRATIONS, Sv. 1 Such eafy Turns of State are frequent in our Modern Plays ; where we fee Princes Dethron'd and Governments Chaiiy'd, by very feeble Means, and on flight Occafions : Particularly, in Marriage-a-la-Modf ; a Play, writ fince the firft Publica- tion of this Farce. Where (to pafs by the Dulnefs of the State-part, the Obfcurity of the Comic, the near Refemblance Leonidas bears to our Prince Pretty-Man, being fometimes a King's Son, fometimes a Shepherd's ; and not to queftion how Almalthea comes to be a Princefs, her Brother, the King's great Favourite, being but a Lord) 'tis worth our While to obferve, how eafily the Fierce and Jealous Ufurper is Depos'd, and the Right Heir plac'd on the Throne ; as it is thus related by the faid Imaginary Princefs. Enter Amalthea, running. Amal. Oh, Gentlemen, if you have Loyalty, Or Courage, (hew it now : Leonidas Broke on the fudden from his Guards, and fnatchinj A Sword from one, his back againft the Scaffold, Bravely defends himfelf ; and owns aloud He is our long loft King, found for this moment But, if your Valours help not, loft for ever. Two of his Guards, mov'd by the fenfe of Virtue, Are turn'd for him, and there they ftand at Bay Againft a Hoft of Foes [J. DRYDEN.] Marriage-a-la-Mode. Act v. Sc. i. p 61. Ed. 1691. This mows Mr. Bayes to be a Man of Conftancy, and firm to his Refolution, and not to be laugh'd out of his own Method : Agreeable to what he fays in the next Act * 'As long as I know my Things are Good, what care I what they lay ? ' . . . Key 1 704. * p- 7- * (a) Ormafdes. I know not what to fay, noi what to think: I know not when I fleep, or when I wake. Sir W. KlLLIGREW. Ormajdes, or Love and Friend/hip. Act v. p. 77. [Licenfed 22 Aug. 1664], Ed. 1665. (b) Pandora. My doubts and fears, my reafon does difinay, I know not what to do nor what to lay ; Sir W. KILLIGREW. Pandora, or The Converts, Acl v. p. 92. Ed. 1665. ACT. ii. sc. iv. THE REHEARSAL. 61 BAYES. Yes ; you have it right : they are both Poli- titians. I writ this Scene for a pattern, to (hew the world how men mould talk of bufmefs. JOHNS. You have done it exceedingly well, indeed. BAYES. Yes, I think this will do. Phys. Well, if they heard us whifper, they'l turn us out, and no bodie elfe will take us. UJh. No bodie elfe will take us. SMI. Not for Polititians, I dare anfwer for it. Phys. Let's then no more our felves in vain bemoan : We are not fafe until we them unthrone. UJh. Tis right : And, fince occafion now feems debonair, I'l feize on this, and you mall take that chair. They draw their Swords, and fit down in the two great chairs upon the Stage. BAYES. There's now an odd furprife ; the whole State's turn'd quite topfi-turvy, 1 without any puther or flir in the whole world, I gad. JOHNS. A very filent change of Government, truly, as ever I heard of. BAYES. It is fo. And yet you fhall fee me bring 'em in again, by and by, in as odd a way every jot [The Ufurpers march out flouri/hing t/ieirf words. Enter Shirley. Shir. Hey ho, hey ho : what a change is here ! Hey day, hey day ! I know not what to do, nor what to fay. 2 [Exit. SMI. But pray, Sir, how came they to depofe the Kings fo eafily ? BAYES. Why, Sir, you mufl know, they long had a defign to do it before; but never could put it in practice till now: and, to tell you true, that's one reafon why I made 'em whifper fo at firft. SMI. O, very well : now I'm fully fatisfi'd. BAYES. And then, to fhew you, Sir, it was not done 62 ILLUSTRATIONS, ACT. II. sc. v. THE REHEARSAL. 63 fo very eafily neither ; in this next Scene you (hall fee fome fighting. SMI. O, ho : fo then you make the flruggle to be after the bufmefs is done ? BAYES. Aye. SMI. 0, I conceive you : that is very natural. SC^ENA V. Enter four men at one door, and four at another, with their fwords drawn. i Soldier. EJ^S^SSjTand. \yho goes there ? 2 Sol. A friend. 1 Sol. What friend ? 2 Sol. A friend to the Houfe. i Sol. Fall on. \77iey all kill one another. Mufickjlrikes. BAYES. Hold, hold. \TotheMufick.ltceafeth. Now here's an odd furprife : all thefe dead men you mall fee rife up prefently, at a certain Note that I have made, in Ejfautflat, and fall a Dancing. Do you hear, dead men? remember your Note in Effaut flat. Play on. {To the Mufick. Now, now, now. OLord,OLord! The Mufick play his Note, and the dead men rife; but cannot get in order. Out, out, out ! Did ever men fpoil a good thing fo ? no figure, no ear, no time, no thing? you dance worfe than the Angels in Harry the Eight, or the fat Spirits in The Tempejl, I gad. i Sol. Why, Sir, 'tis impoffible to do any thing in time, to this Tune. BAYES. O Lord, O Lord ! impoffible ? why, Gen- tlemen, if there be any faith in a perfon that's a Chrif- tian, I fate up two whole nights in compofing this Air, and apting it for the bufmefs : for, if you obferve, ILLUSTRATIONS. ACT. II. sc. v. THE REHEARSAL. 65 there are two feveral Defigns in this Tune ; it begins fwift, and ends flow. You talk of time, and time; you fhall fee me do't. Look you now. Here I am dead. [Lyes down flat on his face. Now mark my Note in Effautflat. Strike up Mufick. Now. As he rifes up ha/lily ', he tumbles and falls down again. Ah, gadfookers, I have broke my Nofe. JOHNS. By my troth, Mr. Bayes, this is a very un- fortunate Note of yours, in Ejfautflat. BAYES. A plague of this damn'd Stage, with your nails, and your tenter-hooks, that a man cannot come to teach you to Act, but he mufl break his nofe, and his face, and the divel and all. Pray, Sir, can you help me to a wet piece of brown papyr ? SMI. No indeed, Sir; I don't ufually carry any about me. 2 Sol. Sir, I'l go get you fome within prefently. BAYES. Go, go then ; I'l follow you. Pray dance out the Dance, and I'l be with you in a moment. Remember you four that you dance like Horfemen. [Exit BAYES. They dance the Dance, but can make nothing of it. i Sol. A Devil ! let's try this no more : play my Dance that Mr. Bayes found fault with. [Dance, and Exeunt. SMI. What can this fool be doing all this while about his nofe ? JOHNS. Pr'ythee let's go fee. {Exeunt. Finis Actus fecundi* 6 6 U.L USTRA TIONS, 1 Failer and Bibber his Taylor in The Wild Gallant. Key, 1704. ACT. in. sc. i, THE REHEARSAL. 67 ACTUS III. SC^ENA I. BAYES with a papyr on his Nofe, and the two Gentlemen. BAYES. IS?fS5SiOw, Sir, this I do, becaufe my fancie in this Play is to end every Adi with a Dance. SMI. Faith, that fancie is very good, but I mould hardly have broke my nofe for it, though. JOHNS. That fancie, I fuppofe, is new too. BAYES. Sir, all my fancies are fo. I tread upon no mans heels ; but make my flight upon my own wings, I affure you. As, now, this next Scene fome perhaps will fay, It is not very neceflary to the Plot : I grant it ; what then ? I meant it fo. But then it's as mil of Drollery as ever it can hold : 'tis like an Orange fluck with Cloves, as for conceipt. Come, where are you ?y This Scene will make you die with laughing, if it be well acted : it is a Scene of (heer Wit, without any mixture in the world, I gad. \Reads Enter ' Prince Pretty-man, and Tom Thimble his Taylor. This, Sirs, might properly enough be call'd a prize of Wit ; for you mail fee 'em come in upon one another fnip fnap, hit for hit, as fad as can be. Firft one fpeaks, then prefently Mother's upon him flap, with a Repartee; then he at him again, dam with a new conceipt : and fo eternally, eternally, I gad, till they go quite off the Stage. [Goes to call the Players. SMI. What a plague, does this Fop mean by his fnip fnap, hit for hit, and dafh ? JOHNS. Mean ? why, he never meant any thing in's life : what dofl talk of meaning for ? 68 ILLUSTRATIONS,**".. 1 Nay, if that be all, there's no fuch haft : the Cour- tiers are not fo forward to pay their Debts. J. DRYDEN. The Wild Gallant, Ad L p. n. Ed. 1669. Fatter. Then fay I : Take a little Bibber, And throw him in the River, And if he will truft never, Then there let him lie ever. Bibber. Then fay I : Take a little Fauer, And throw him to the Jaylour ; And there let him lie Till he has paid his Taylor. Idem, Aft ii. Sc. n. p ACT. in. sc. L THE REHEARSAL, 69 Enter BAYES. BAYES. Why don't you come in ? Enter Prince Pretty-man and Tom Thimble. Pret. But pr'ythee, Tom Thimble, why wilt thou needs marry? If nine Taylors make but one man ; and one woman cannot be fatisfi'd with nine men : what work art thou cutting out here for thy felf, trow we? BAYES. Good. Thim. Why, an't pleafe your Highnefs, if I can't make up all the work I cut out, I ihan't want Journey- men to help me, I warrant you. BAYES. Good again. Pret. I am afraid thy Journey-men, though, T0m, won't work by the day, but by the night. BAYES. Good ftill. Thim. However, if my wife fits but crofs-leg'd, as I do, there will be no great danger : not half fo much as when I trufled you for your Coronation-fuit. BAYES. Very good, i'faith. Pret. Why, the times then liv'd upon trufl ; it was the fafhion. You would not be out of time, at fuch a time as that, fure : A Taylor, you know, muft never be out of fafhion. BAYES. Right. Thim. I'm fure, Sir, I made your cloath in the Court-fafhion, for you never paid me yet. 1 BAYES. There's a bob for the Court. Pret. Why, Tom, thou art a fharp rogue when thou art angry, I fee : thou pay'ft me now, methinks. Thim. I, Sir, in your own coyn : you give me nothing but words. 7 BAYES. Admirable, before gad. Pret. Well, Tom, I hope fhortly I (hall have another coyn for thee ; for now the Wars come on, I (hall grow to be a man of mettal. 70 ILL USTRA TIONS, S*c. 1 Ay, 'tis pretty well ; but he does not Top his Part A great Word with Mr. Edward Howard. . . . AVy 1704. Saf. 60. M. Edward ffowartfs Words. . Key I7O*. Seep. ACT. in. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 71 BAYES. O, you did not do that half enough. JOHNS. Methinks he does it admirably. BAYES. I, pretty well ; but he does not hit me in't : he does not top his part. 1 Thim. That's the way to be flamp'd yourfelf, Sir. I mail fee you come home, like an Angel for the Kings-evil, with a hole bor'd through you. [Exeunt. BAYES. That's very good, i'faith : ha, ha, ha. Ha, there he has hit it up to the hilts, I gad. How do do you like it now, Gentlemen ? is not this pure Wit ? SMI. 'Tis fnip map, Sir, as you fay; but, methinks, not pleafant,norto the purpofe,for the Play does not go on. BAYES. Play does not go on ? I don't know what you mean : why, is not this part of the Play ? SMI. Yes, but the Plot ftands dill. BAYES. Plot ftand ftill ! why, what a Devil is the Plot good for, but to bring in fine things ? SMI. O, I did not know that before. BAYES. No, I think you did not : nor many things more, that I am Mafter of. Now, Sir, I gad, this is the bane of all us Writers : let us foar never fo little above the common pitch, I gad, all's fpoil'd ; for the vulgar never underftand us, they can never conceive you, Sir, the excellencie of thefe things. JOHNS. 'Tis a fad fate, I muft confefs: but you write on ftill ? BAYES. Write on ? I gad, I warrant you. 'Tis not their talk mail Hop me : if they catch me at that lock, I'l give 'em leave to hang me. As long as I know my things to be good, what care I what they fay ? a What, they are gone, and forgot the Song ! SMI. They have done very well, methinks, here's no need of one. BAYES. Alack, Sir, you know nothing : you muft ever interlard your Plays with Songs, Ghofts and Idols, if you mean to a JOHNS. Pit, Box and Gallery, 3 Mr. Bayes. BAYES. I gad, Sir, and you have nick'd it. Hark you, 7 ILLUSTRATIONS. 1 Alberto. Curtius, I've fomething to deliver to your Ear. Curtius. Any thing from Alberto is welcom. Mrs. A. BEHN. Tht Amorous Prince. Act ill Sc.ii. p. 39 Ed 1671. ACT. Hi. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 73 Mr. Johnfon, you know I don't flatter, a gad, you have a great deal of Wit. JOHNS. O Lord, Sir, you do me too much honour. BAYES. Nay, nay, come, come, Mr. Johnfon, Ifacks this mufl not be faid, amongft us that have it. I know you have wit by the judgement you make of this Play ; for that's the meafure I go by : my Play is my Touch-flone. When a man tells me fuch a one is a perfon of parts ; is he fo, fay I ? what do I do, but bring him prefently to fee this Play : If he likes it, I know what to think of him ; if not, your mod humble Servant, Sir, I'l no more of him upon my word, I thank you. I am Clara voyant, a gad. Now here we go on to our bufmefs. SC^ENA II. Enter the two Ufurpers, hand in hand. what's become of Volfdus the great ? His prefence has not grac'd our Court of late. Phys. I fear fome ill, from emula- tion fprung, Has from us that Illuftrious Hero wrung. BAYES. Is not that Majeftical ? SMI. Yes, but who a Devil is that Volfciusl BAYES. Why, that's a Prince I make in love with Parthenope. SMI. I thank you, Sir. Enter Cordelio. 1 Cor. My Leiges, news from Volfdus the Prince. UJh. His news is welcome, whatfoe'er it be. SMI. How, Sir, do you mean that? whether it be good or bad ? 74 ILLUSTRATIONS, Src, ACT. in. SC. ii. THE REHEARSAL. 75 BAYES. Nay, pray, Sir, have a little patience : God- fookers, you'l fpoil ail my Play. Why, Sir, 'tis impofli- ble to anfwer every impertinent queflion you ask. SMI. Cry you mercie, Sir. Cor. His Highnefs Sirs, commanded me to tell you, That the fair perfon whom you both do know, Defpairing of forgivenefs for her fault, In a deep forrow, twice fhe did attempt Upon her precious life ; but, by the care Of ftanders-by, prevented was. SMI. 'Sheart, what fluff's here ! Cor. At lafl, Volfcius the great this dire refolve embrac'd : His fervants he into the Country fent, And he himfelf to Piccadille went. Where he's inform'd, by Letters, that (he's dead ! U/h. Dead! is that poffible ? Dead! Phys. O ye Gods ! {Exeunt. BAYES. There's a fmart expreflion of a paflion ; O ye Gods ! That's one of my bold flrokes, a gad. SMI. Yes ; but who is the fair perfon that's dead ? BAYES. That you (hall know anon. SMI. Nay, if we know it at all, 'tis well enough. BAYES. Perhaps you may find too, by and by, for all this, that (he's not dead neither. SMI. Marry, that's good news : I am glad of that with all my heart. BAYES. Now, here's the man brought in that is fup- pos'd to have kill'd her. \A great Jhout within. Enter Amarillis with a Book in her hand and Attendants. Ama. What mout Triumphant's that? Enter a Souldier. Sol Shie maid, upon the River brink, near TwicKnam Town, the affaflinate is tane. Ama. Thanks to the Powers above, for this de- liverance. ILLUSTRATIONS, fre. *Decio. Now you (hall tell me, who play'd at Cards with you ? Pyramena. None but my Lord Iberio and I plai'd. Dec. Who waited ? Fy. No body. Dec. No Page ? Py. No Page. Dec. No Groom ? /Y No Groom ; I tell you no body. Dec. What, not your Woman ? Py. Not my Woman, lack How your tongue runs ! Sir R, STAPYLTON. Tlic Slighted Maid. A& iii. pp. 467. Ed. 1663. ACT. in. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 77 I hope its flow beginning will portend A forward Exit to all future end. BAYES. Pirn, there you are out ; to all future end ? No, no ; to all future end ; you muft lay the accent upon end, or elfe you lofe the conceipt. JOHNS. Indeed the alteration of that accent does a great deal, Mr. Bayes. BAYES. O, all in all, Sir: they are thefe little things that mar, or fet you off a Play. SMI. I fee you are perfect in thefe matters. BAYES. I, Sir; I have been long enough at it to know fomething. Enter Souldiers dragging in an old Fijherman. A ma. Villain, what Monfler did corrupt thy mind T'attaque the noblefl foul of humane kind ? Tell me who fet thee on. Fijh. Prince Pretty-man. Ama. To kill whom ? Fijh. Prince Pretty-man. Ama. What, did Prince Pretty-man hire you to kill Prince Pretty-man ? Fijh. No; Prince Volfcius. Ama. To kill whom? Fijh. Prince Volfcius. Ama. What, did Prince Volfcius hire you to kill Prince Volfcius ? Fijh. No ; Prince Pretty-man. Ama. So, drag him hence. Till torture of the Rack produce his fence. [Exeunt. BAYES. Mark how I make the horror of his guilt confound his intellects ; for that's the defign of this Scene. SMI. I see, Sir, you have a feveral defign for every Scene. BAYES. I ; that's my way of writing : and fo I can difpatch you, Sir, a whole Play, before another man, I gad, can make an end of his Plot. So, now enter ILLUSTRATIONS, ACT. in. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 79 Prince Pretty-man in a rage. Where the Devil is he ? Why Pretty-man ? why when, I fay ? O fie, fie, fie, fie ; all's marr'd, I vow to gad, quite marr'd. Enter Pretty-man. Phoo, pox ! you are come too late, Sir : now you may go out again, if you pleafe. I vow to gad Mr. a 1 would not give a button for my Play, now you have done this. Pret. What, Sir? BAYES. What, Sir ? 'Slife, Sir, you mould have come out in choler, rous upon the Stage, juft as the other went off. Muft a man be eternally telling you of thefe things ? JOHNS. Sure this muft be fome very notable matter that he's fo angry at. SMI. I am not of your opinion. BAYES. Pirn ! come, let's hear your Part, Sir. Pret. Bring in my Father, why d'ye keephimfromme? Although a Filherman, he is my Father, Was ever Son, yet, brought to this diftrefs, To be, for being a Son, made fatherlefs ? Oh, you juft Gods, rob me not of a Father. The being of a Son take from me rather. [Exit. SMI. Well, Ned, what think you now ? JOHNS. A Devil, this is worft of all. Pray, Mr. Bayes, what's the meaning of this Scene ? BAYES. O, cry you mercie, Sir : I purteft I had for- got to tell you. Why, Sir, you muft know, that, long before the beginning of this Play, this Prince was taken by a Fifherman. SMI. How, Sir, taken Prifoner? BAYES. Taken Prifoner ! O Lord, what a queftion's there ! did ever any man ask fuch a queftion ? Taken Prifoner ! Godfookers, he has put the Plot quite out of my head, with this damn'd queftion. What was I going to fay ? JOHNS. Nay, the Lord knows : I cannot imagine. BAYES. Stay, let me fee ; taken : O 'tis true. Why, Sir, as I was going to fay, his Highnefs here, the 8c ILLUSTRATIONS, ACT. in. sc. n. THE REHEARSAL. 8l Prince, was taken in a Cradle by a Fiflierman, and brought up as his Child. SMI. Indeed? BAYES. Nay, pr'ythee hold thy peace. And fo, Sir, this murder being committed by the River-fide, the Fimerman, upon fufpicion, was feiz'd ; and thereupon the Prince grew angry. SMI. So, fo ; now 'tis very plain. JOHNS. But, Mr. JBayes, is not that fome difparage- ment to a Prince, to pafs for a Fifhermans Son? Have a care of that, I pray. BAYES. No, no, no ; not at all ; for 'tis but for a while: I mall fetch him off again, prefently, you (hall fee Enter Pretty-man and Thimble. Pret, By all the Gods, I'l fet the world on fire Rather than let 'em ravifh hence my Sire. T/iim. Brave Pretty-man, it is at length reveal'd, That he is not thy Sire who thee conceal'd. BAYES. Lo' you now, there he's off again. JOHNS. Admirably done i'faith. BAYES. Ay, now the Plot thickens very much upon us. Pret. What Oracle this darknefs can evince ? Sometimes a Fifhers Son, sometimes a Prince. It is a fecret, great as is the world ; In which, I, like the foul, am tofs'd and hurl'd. The blackefl Ink of Fate, fure, was my Lot. And, when me writ my name, me made a blot. \_Exit. BAYES. There's a blufl'ring verfe for you now. SMI. Yes, Sir; but pray, why is he fo mightily troubled to find he is not a Fifhermans Son ? BAYES. Phoo ! that is not becaufe he has a mind to be his Son, but for fear he mould be thought to be nobodies Son at all SMI. I, that would trouble a man, indeed. BAYES. So, let me fee. Enter Prince Volfcius, going out of Town. SMI. I thought he had been gone to Piccadille. 82 ILLUSTRATIONS, &>c. In ridicule of Act iv. So. L of Engli/h Monfeeur, by the Hon. J. HOWARD, of which this is a portion. Enter Comely in a Riding Garb, with his fcruant. Comely. Let my Horfes be brought ready to the door, for i'le go out of Town this Evening. \Exitfervant. Enter Welbred. Well. Why, how now Comely, booted and fpur'd ? Comely. Marry am I. Wei. For how long? - Comely. Why, for this feven years for ought I know, I am weary of this Town, and all that's in it, as for women I am in love with none, nor never fhal, I find I have a pretty flrong defence about my heart againft that folly. O here comes the Ladies very opportunely for me. Enter Lady Wealthy and two other Ladies. To take my leave of e'm. L. Weal. Mr. Comely your Servant what in a Riding Garb. Comely. A drefs fitting for a Country Journey Madam. 1 Z. Weal. Why, can you ever leave this Town ? Comely. That I can truely madam, within this hour. L. Weal. I can't believe it Comely So that for my future health i'le retire into the Countrey for Air, and there Hunt and Hawk, Eat and fleep fo found, that I will never dream of a woman, or any part about her This refolution of mine has made me turn Poet, and there- fore before I go, you (hall hear a Song called my fare- well to London and women, boy fing the Song. Of which song the third and laft flanza runs thus : Therefore this danger to prevent And flill to keep my hearts content : 'Into the country I'le with fpeed, With Hounds and Hawks my fancy feed 1 Both fafer pleafures to purfue, Than flaying to converfe with you. ACT. in. SC. II. THE REHEARSAL. 83 BAYES. Yes, he gave out fo j but that was onely to cover his defign. JOHNS. What defign ? BAYES. Why, to head the Army, that lies conceal'd for him in Knights-bridge. JOHNS. I fee here is a great deal of Plot, Mr. Bayes. BAYES. Yes, now it begins to break ; but we (hall have a world of more bufinefs anon. 1 Enter Prince Volfcius, Cloris, Amarillis, and Harry with a Riding-Cloak and Boots. *Ama. Sir, you are cruel, thus to leave the Town, And to retire to Country folitude. Clo. We hop'd this Summer that we mould at leafl Have held the honour of your company. BAYES. Held the honour of your Company ! prettily expreft ! Held the honour of your company ! Gocl- fookers,thefe fellows will never take notice of any thing. JOHNS. I aflure you, Sir, I admire it extreamly ; I don't know what he does. BAYES. I, I, he's a little envious ; but 'tis no great matter. Come. Ama. Pray let us two this fingle boon obtain, That you will here with poor us ftill remain. Before your Horfes come pronounce our fate, For then, alas, I fear 'twill be too late. BAYES. Sad ! Vols. Harry , my Boots ; for I'l go rage among My Blades encamp'd, and quit this Urban throng. SMI. But pray, Mr. Bayes, is not this a little diffi- cult, that you were faying e'en now, to keep an Army thus conceal'd in Knights-bridge. BAYES. In Knights-bridge ? flay. JOHNS. No, not if the Inn-keepers be his friends. BAYES. His friends ! Ay, Sir, his intimate acquaint- ance ; or elfe, indeed, I grant it could not be. SMI. Yes, faith, fo it might be very eafily. ILLUSTRATIONS, Comely fees Elsba, a Country lafs, and falls fuddenly in love with her. ' Comely. . . . fet up my Horfes. What fudden fate hath chang*d my mind ! I feel my heart fo reft- lefs now as if it n'ere knew reft, fure I'me in love ; The Hon. J. HOWARD. Engli/k Monfuur, Ac~l iv.Sc. i. p. 42. Ed. 1674 'And what's this maid's name ? Idem, Act iv. Sc. i. p. 40. Ed, 1674, *MuJlapha. I bring the Morning piclur'd in a Cloud. Sir W. D'AVENANT, Siege of Rhodes. P. I. 'The Second Entry.' p. to. Ed. 1656. 'Mr. Comely in love ! Englijh Monfteur, Act iv. Sc. ii. p. 45. Ed, 1674. 5 r . ' London, 1649, 4to ACT. in. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 85 BAYES. Nay, if I do not make all things eafie, I gad, I'l give you leave to hang me. Now you would think that he is going out of Town ; but you mall fee how prettily I have contriv'd to flop him prefently. SMI. By my troth, Sir, you have fo amaz'd me, I know not what to think. Enter Parthenope. Vols. Blefs me ! how frail are all my beft refolves ! How, in a moment, is my purpofe chang'd !' Too foon I thought my felf fecure from Love. Fair Madam, give me leave to ask her name Who does fo gently rob me of my fame ? For I mould meet the Army out of Town, And, if I fail, muft hazard my renown. Par. My Mother, Sir, fells Ale by the Town-walls, And me her dear Parthenope me calls. Vols. Can vulgar Veftments high-born beauty fhrowd? 3 Thou bring'ft the Morning piclur'd in a Cloud? BAYES. The Morning pi&ur'd in a Cloud ! A, Gad- fookers, what a conceipt is there ! Par. Give you good Ev'n, Sir. \Exit. Vols. O inaufpicious Stars ! that I was born To fudden love, and to more fudden fcorn ! Ama. Claris, How! 4 Prince Volfciusm love? Ha, ha, ha. [Exeunt laughing. SMI. Sure, Mr. JSayes, we have loft fome jeft here, that they laugh at fo. BAYES. Why did you not obferve? He firft re- folves to go out of Town, and then, as he is pulling on his Boots, falls in love. Ha, ha, ha. SMI. O, I did not obferve : that, indeed, is a very good jeft. BAYES. Here, now, you fhall fee a combat betwixt Love and Honour. An ancient Author has made a whole Play on't & but I have difpatch'd it all in this Scene. 86 ILLUSTRATIONS, <&v. 1 May this flip be accepted as evidence that this Act ftood fecond in the original Play ? * (a) Felifbravo. LOVE, and HONOUR, pull two ways ; And I Hand doubtful which to take : To Arabia., Honour fays, Love fays no ; thy flay here make. Sir R. FAXSHAWE'S tranflation of Querer pro folo Querer. Act iii. p. i4a Ed. 1671. () Alphonfo. But Honour fays not fo. Siege of Rhodes, Part I. p. 19. (() Ent. Palladius./Jj/?/}' reading 2. letters. Pall. I fland betwixt two minds ! what's befl to doe ? This bids me flay ; This fours me on to goe. Once more let our impartiall eyes perufe Both t'one and t'other : Both may not prevaile. My Lord, T) Rize not your honour fo much as to difprize her that ho- nours you, in choofing rather to meet Death in the field, then PulfhreUa in her defires. Give my affection leave once more to diflwade you from trying Conqueft with fo unequall a Foe : Or if a Combate mud be tryed, make a Bed of Rofes the Field, and me your Enemie. The Intereft I claim in you is fuffi- cient warrant to my defires, which according to the place they find in your Refpects, confirmeme either the happiefl of all Ladies, or make me the moft unfortunate of all women. PULCHRELLA. A Charme too flrong for Honour to reprefie. Mus. A heart too poore for Honour to poflefie. Fall. Honour mufl floop to Vows. But what faies this ? [Reads the other Letter. My Lord, nr*HE hand that guides this Pen, being guided by the am- J. bition of your honour, and my owne affection, prefents you with the wifhes of a faithfiill fervant, who defires not to| buy you fafety with the hazard of your Reputation. Goe on with courage, and know, Panthea (hall partake with you in either for- tune : If conquer'd, my heart fliall be your Monument, to pre- ferve and glorilie your honour'd afhes ; If a Conqueror, my tongue fhall be your Herault to proclaime you the Champion of our Sex, and the Phoenix of your own, honour'd by all, equall'd by few, beloved by none more dearly then Your owne Panthea. I fayle betwixt two Rocks ! What fhall I doe ? What Marble melts not if Pukhrella wooe ? ACT. in. sc. ii. THE REHEARSAL. 87 doitm. Vols. How has my pafiion made me Cupid's feoff! This hafly Boot is on, the other off, And fullen lyes, with amorous defigu To quit loud fame, and make that Beauty mine. My Legs, the Emblem of my various thought, Shew to what fad diffraction I am brought. Sometimes, with ftubborn Honour, like this Boot. My mind is guarded, and refolv'd to do't : Sometimes, again, that very-mind, by Love Difarmed, like this other Leg does prove. JOHNS. What pains Mr. Bayes takes to act this fpeech himfelf! SMI. I, the fool, I fee, is mightily tranfported with it. Vols. Shall I to Honour or to Love give way ? Go on, cryes Honour ; tender Love fays, nay : Honour, aloud, commands, pluck both boots on ; But fofter Love does whifper, put on none. What mail I do ? what conduft mall I find To lead me through this twy-light of my mind ? For as bright Day with black approach of Night Contending, makes a doubtful puzzling light ; So does my Honour and my Love together Puzzle me fo, I can refolve for neither. [Exit with one Boot on, and the other off. JOHNS. By my troth, Sir, this is as difficult a Com- bat as ever I faw, and as equal ; for 'tis determin'd on neither fide. BAYES. Ay, is't not, I gad, ha ? For, to go off hip hop, hip hop, upon this occafion, is a thoufand times better than any conclufion in the world, I gad. But, Sirs, you cannot make any judgement of this Play, becaufe we are come but to the end of the fecond 1 Act. Come, the Dance. [Dance. Well Gentlemen, you'l fee this Dance, if I am not miftaken, take very well upon the Stage, when they are perfect in their motions, and all that. 88 ILLUSTRATIONS, &>c. Or what hard-hearted eare can be fo dead, As to be deafe, if faire Panthea plead ? Whom {hall I pleafe ? Or which (hall I refufe ? Pulchrella fues, and fair Panthea fues : Pulchrdla melts me with her love-fick teares, But brave Panthea batters downe my eares With Love's Pettarre : Pulchrellas breafl encloses A foft Affection wrapt in Beds of Rofes. But in the rare Pantheas noble lines, True Worth and Honour, with Affection joynes. I (land even-balanc'd, doubtfully opprefl, Beneathe the burthen of a bivious brefl. When I perufe my fweet Pulchrellas teares, My blood growes wanton, and I plunge in feares : But when I read divine Panthea 's charmes, I turne all fierie, and I grafp for armes. Who ever faw, when a rude blaft out-braves, And thwarts the fwelling Tide, how the proud waves Rock the drencht Pinace on the Sea-greene brefl Of frowning Amphitrite, who opprefl Betwixt two Lords, (not knowing which t' obey) Remaines a Neuter in a doubtfull way. So toft am I, bound to fuch flrait confines, Betwixt Pulchrellas and Panthea' s lines. Both cannot fpeed : But one that mufl prevaile. I fland even poys'd : an Atome turnes the fcale. F.QUARI.ES. ThtVirgin Widow. Actiii. Stipp.4i-43. Ed 1649- ACT. III. SC. II. THE REHEARSAL. 89 SMI. I don't know 'twill take, Sir ; but I am fure you fweat hard for't. BAYES. Ay, Sir, it cofts me more pains, and trouble, to do thefe things, than almofl the things are worth. SMI. By my troth, I think so, Sir. BAYES. Not for the things themfelves, for I could write you, Sir, forty of 'em in a day ; but, I gad, thefe Players are fuch dull perfons, that, if a man be not by upon every point, and at every turn, I gad, they'l mif- take you, Sir, and fpoil all. Enter a Player. What, is the Funeral ready ? Play. Yes, Sir. BAYES. And is the Lance fill'd with Wine ? Play. Sir, 'tis juft now a doing. BAYES. Stay then ; I'l do it my felf. SMI. Come, let's go with him. BAYES. A match. But, Mr. Johnfon, I gad, I am not like other perfons ; they care not what becomes of their things, fo they can but get money for 'em : now, I gad, when I write, if it be not jufl as it mould be, in every circumflance, to every particular, I gad, I am not able to endure it, I am not my felf, I'm out of my wits, and all that, I'm the ftrangeft perfon in the whole world. For what care I for my money ? I gad, I write for Fame and Reputation. [Exeunt. Finis Actus Tertii. 90 ILLUSTRATIONS. 1 Colonel ffrnry Ho-joard, Son of Thomas Earl of Berkflitre % made a Play, call'd the United Kingdoms, which began with a Funeral ; and had alfo two Kings in it This gave the Duke a juft occafion to fet up two Kings in Brentford, as 'tis generally believed ; tho' others are of Opinion, that his grace had our two Brothers in his thoughts. It was Acted at the Cock-Pit in Drury-Lane, foon after the Reftoratutn ; but mifcarrying oil the ftage, the Author had the Modefty not to Print it ; and there- fore, the Reader cannot reafonably expect any particular Paflages of it Others fay, that they are Boabdflin and Abdalla, the two contending Kings of Granada, and Mr. Dryden has in mod of his ferious Plays two contending Kings of the fame Place. . . . - , . . . . An . 704. ACT. TV. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 91 ACTUS IV. SC^ENA I. BAYES, and the two Gentlemen. BAYES. IFP58331E nt l emen > becaufe I would not have any two things alike in this Play, the lafl A<51 beginning with a witty Scene of mirth, I make this to begin with a Funeral. SMI. And is that all your reafon for it, Mr. Bayes ? BAYES. No, Sir ; I have a precedent for it too. A perfon of Honour, and a Scholar, brought in his Funeral jufl fo : and he was one (let me tell you) that knew as well what belong'd to a Funeral, as any man in England, I gad. 1 JOHNS. Nay, if that be fo, you are fafe. BAYES. I gad, but I have another device, a frolick, which I think yet better than all this ; not for the Plot or Characters, (for, in my Heroick Plays, I make no difference, as to thofe matters) but for another con- trivance. SMI. What is that, I pray ? BAYES. Why, I have defign'd a Conqueft, that can- not pofllbly, I gad, be acted in lefs than a whole week : and I'l fpeak a bold word, it fhall Drum, Trumpet, Shout and Battel, I gad, with any the moft warlike Tragoedy we have, either ancient or modern. JOHNS. I marry, Sir ; there you fay fomething. SMI. And pray, Sir, how have you order'd this fame frolick of yours ? BAYES. Faith, Sir, by the Rule of Romance. For example : they divide their things into three, four, five, fix, feven, eight, or as many Tomes as they pleafe : now, I would very fain know, what fhould hinder me, from doing the fame with my things, if I pleafe. JOHNS. Nay, if you mould not be Mafter of your own works, 'tis very hard. 9* ILLUSTRATIONS, 1 Bp. Percy fays : This is intended to ridicule the abfurd cuftom of writing plays in feveral parts, as the Siege of Rhodes, Parts L and II. Killi- grew's Bellamira I and II. Thomafo I. and IL Cicilia and Clo- rinda, I. and II. &c. ; but is principally levelled at the Conque/l of Granada in 2 Parts : which is properly but one play of ten a<5ls, neither the plot nor characters being compleat or intelligible in either without the other. 1 Bp. Percy considers that this refers to Conquejl of Granada^ Fart II. Act iv, ACT. IV. sc. 1. THE REHEARSAL* 93 BAYES. That is my fence. And therefore, Sir, whereas every one makes five A6ls to one Play, what do me I, but make five Plays to one Plot : by which means the Auditors have every day a new thing. JOHNS. Moft admirably good, i' faith ! and muft certainly take, becaufe it is not tedious. BAYES. I, Sir, I know that, there's the main point. And then, upon Saturday, to make a clofe of all, (for I ever begin upon a Monday) I make you, Sir, a fixth Play, that fums up the whole matter to 'em, and all that, for fear they mould have forgot it. 1 JOHNS. That confederation, Mr. Bayes, indeed, I think, will be very neceffary. SMI. And when comes in your (hare, pray Sir ? BAYES. The third week. JOHNS. I vow, you'l get a world of money. BAYES. Why, faith, a man muft live : and if you don't, thus, pitch upon fome new device, I gad, you'l never do it, for this Age (take it o' my wdrd) is fome- what hard to pleafe. There is one prettie odd paf- fage, in the laft of thefe Plays, which may be executed to feveral ways, wherein I'ld have your opinion, Gentlemen. JOHNS. Well, what is't ? BAYES. Why, Sir, I make a Male perfon to be in Love with a Female. SMI. Do you mean that, Mr. Bayes, for a new thing ? BAYES. Yes, sir, as I have order'd it. You (hall hear. He having paflionately lov'd her through my five whole Plays, finding at laft that me confents to his love, juft after that his Mother had appear'd to him like a Ghoft, he kills himfelf. That's one way. The other is, that fhe coming at laft to love him, with as violent a paflion as he lov'd her, fhe kills her felf.* Now my queftion is, which of thefe two perfons mould fuifer upon this occafion ? JOHNS. By my troth, it is a very hard cafe to decide. BAYES. The hardeft in the world, I gad ; and has 94 ILLUSTRATIONS. 1 Thf Ghojl [of his mother] conies on,fo/tfy, after the Conjuration ; and Almanzor retires to the middU of the Stage. Ghojl. I am the Ghoft of her who gave thee birth : The Airj' fhadow of her mouldring Earth. Love of thy Father me through Seas did guide ; On Sea's I bore thee, and on Sea's I d/d. I d/d ; and for my Winding-meet, a Wave I had ; and all the Ocean for my Grave. J. DRYDEN. Conqueftoj Granada, P. I. Act iv. p. 130. Ed. 167*. * Almanzor, in Conquejl of Granada. ACT. IV. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 95 puzzled this pate very much. What fay you, Mr. Smith ? SMI. Why, truly, Mr. Bayes, if it might ftand with your juftice, I mould now fpare 'em both. BAYES. I gad, and I think ha why then, I'l make him hinder her from killing her felf. Ay, it mail be fo. Come, come, bring in the Funeral. [Enter a Funeral,with the two U fur per s and Attendants. Lay it down there : no, here, Sir. So, now fpeak. K. UJfi. Set down the Funeral Pile, and let our grief Receive, from its embraces, fome relief. K. Phys. Was't not unjuft to ravifh hence her breath, And, in life's ftead, to leave us nought but death ? The world difcovers now its emptinefs, And, by her lofs, demonftrates we have lefs. BAYES. Is not that good language now ? is not that elevate ? It's my non ultra, I gad. You muft know they were both in love with her. SMI. With her ? with whom ? BAYES. Why, this is Lardella's Funeral. SMI. Lardella ! I, who is me ? BAYES. Why, Sir, the Sifter of Drawcanftr. A Ladie that was drown'd at Sea, and had a wave for her winding-meet. 1 K. UJh. Lardella, O Lardella, from above, Behold the Tragick iffue of our Love. Pitie us, finking under grief and pain, For thy being caft away upon the Main. BAYES. Look you now, you fee I told you true. SMI. I, Sir, and I thank you for it, very kindly. BAYES. Ay, I gad, but you will not have patience ; honeft Mr. a you will not have patience. JOHNS. Pray, Mr. Bayes, who is that Drawcanfir ? l BAYES. Why, Sir, a fierce Hero, that frights his Miftrifs, fnubs up Kings, baffles Armies, and does what he will, without regard to good manners, juftice or numbers. JOHNS. A very prettie Character. 96 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. I have fonn'd a Heroe [i.e. Almanzor], I confefs; not abfo- lately perfect ; but of an exceffive and overboyling courage, both Homer and 'i affb are my precedents. Both the Greek and the Italian Poet had well confider'd that a tame Heroe who never tranfgrefles the bounds of moral vertue, would fhine but dimly in an Epick poem. J. DRYDEN. Dedication to Conquest of Granada. See alfo on this fubjedl, the prefatory Eflay to the fame play, entitled Of Henrique Playes. ACT. iv. sc. t THE REHEARSAL. 97 SMI. But, Mr. Bayes, I thought your Heroes had ever been men of great humanity and juftice. BAYES. Yes, they have been fo ; but, for my part, I prefer that one quality of fmgly beating of whole Armies, above all your moral vertues put together, I gad. You mall fee him come in prefently. Zookers, why don't you read the papyr ? [To the Players. K. Phys. O, cry you mercie. [Goes to take the papyr. BAYES. Pirn ! nay you are fuch a fumbler. Come, I'l read it my felf. [ Takes a papyr from off the coffin. Stay, it's an ill hand, I muft ufe my Spectacles. This, now, is a Copie of Verfes, which I make Lardella compofe, juft as fhe is dying, with defign to have it pin'd on her Coffin, and fo read by one of the Ufurpers, who is her Coufin. SMI. A very (hrewd defign that, upon my word, Mr. Bayes. BAYES. And what do you think I fancie her to make Love like, here, in the papyr ? SMI. Like a woman : what mould (he make Love like? BAYES. O' my word you are out though, Sir; I gad you are. SMI. What then ? like a man ? BAYES. No, Sir ; like a Humble Bee. SMI. I confefs, that I mould not have fancy'd. BAYES. It may be fo, Sir. But it is, though, in order to the opinion of fome of your ancient Philofophers, who held the tranfmigration of the foul. SMI. Very fine. BAYES. I'l read the Title. To my dear Couz,King Phys. SMI. That's a little too familiar with a King, though, Sir, by your favour, for a Humble Bee. BAYES. Mr. Smith, for other things, I grant your knowledge may be above me ; but, as for Poetry, give me leave to fay, I underftand that better : it has been longer my practice ; it has indeed, Sir. SMI. Your fervant, Sir. BAYES. Pray mark it. \Kead$. G 98 ILLUSTRATIONS, 6*. 1 Berenice. My earthly part Which is my Tyrants right, death will remove, I'le come all Soul and Spirit to your Love. With filent fteps I'le follow you all day; Or elfe before you, in the Sun-beams, play. I'le lead you thence to melancholy Groves, And there repeat the Scenes of our pail LOVC& At night, I will within your Curtains peep ; With empty arms embrace you while you fleej> In gentle dreams I often will be by ; And fweep along, before your doling eye. All dangers from your bed I will remove ; But guard it mofl from any future Love. And when at laft, in pity, you will dye, I'le watch your Birth of Immortality : Then, Turtle-like, I'le to my Mate repair ; And teach you your firfl flight in open Air. JOHN DEYDEN. Tyratuutk Love. Aciiii. Sc. L p. 28. Ed. 1671% ACT. nr. sc. i. THE REHEARSAL. 99 Since death my earthly part will thus remove I'l come a Humble Bee to your chafte love. With filent wings I'll follow you, dear Couz ; Or elfe, before you, in the Sun-beams buz. And when to Melancholy Groves you come, An Airy Ghoft, you'l know me by my Hum ; For found, being Air, a Ghoft does well become. SMI. (After a paufe). Admirable ! BAYES. At night, into your bofom I will creep, And Buz but foftly if you chance to lleep : Yet, in your Dreams, I will pafs fwecping by, And then, both Hum and Buz before your eye. JOHNS. By my troth, that's a very great promife. SMI. Yes, and a moft extraordinary comfort to boot. BAYES. Your bed of Love, from dangers I will free ; But moft, from love of any future Bee. And when, with pitie, your heart-firings fhall crack, With emptie arms I'l bear you on my back. SMI. A pick-a-pack, a pick-a-pack. BAYES. Ay, I gad, but is not that tuant now, ha ? is it not tuant ? Here's the end. Then, at your birth of immortality, Like any winged Archer, hence I'l fly, And teach you your firft flutt'ring in the Sky. JOHNS. O rare ! it is the moft natural, refin'd fancie this, that ever I heard, I'l fwear. BAYES. Yes, I think, for a dead perfon, it is a good enough way of making love : for being divefted of her Terreftrial part, and all that, (he is only capable of thefe little, pretty, amorous defigns that are innocent, and yet paffionate. Come, draw your fwords. K. Phys. Come fword, come (heath thy felf within this bread, That only in Lardellcf^ Tomb can reft. 106 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. 1 See the Scene in the Villain : where the Hoft ftrmifhes his guefts with a collation out of his Cloaths ; a Capon from his Helmet, a Tanfey out of the Lining of his Cap, Cream out of his Scabbard, &c Key 1704. The text of this Scene, which mnft have depended much more upon the acting than the fpeeches for its fuccefs, is as follows : Hoft. Tis the Sign of the Pig, and I'm the Mailer of the Cabaret, which (hall give you moft Excellent content. Colig. Say'ft thon so honeft fellow ? faith thou art a very merry honed fellow ; Sifters, I'l treat you, and thefe Gentlemen, at this Cabaret he talks of ; Prethee honeft Friend where is this Cabaret ? for I long to be in a Cabaret Hoft. Why here Sir, fit down at this Table, And call for what you will. Ddpe. How ? s this, how's this ? S'death are you one of Urgatt' aWt Squiers ? pray friend whence (hall the meat, and wine come ? I^amar. From Tripoli on a Broomftick. Hoft. Pray Gentlemen, hinder me not the Cuftom of the young gallant ; Entreat but thefe Ladies to fit down, and break my head If you be not well treated, I'l defire no favour. Colig. Nor no money neither, I hope Sir. Hoft. Truly I won't ; if you be not pleaf 'd above expectation, Ne'r Truft one again of my profeffion. Ddpe. Faith Ladies this may prove worth our Curiofity ; Come we will fit down. Maria. What you pleafe Sir. Colig. That's my good Sifter ; Come, come, La Convert, la Convert. Lamar. This begins to look like fomthing, he's bravely ftuft I'l warrant you, he is fo well hung. Colig. Now Sir, a cold breft of your delicate white VeaL Ho/I. Here you have it Sir. Colig. Nay, nay, and a fallet ? good Sir, a fallet ? Hoft. Well Sir, I muft untrufs a poynt Colig. How Sir, to give us a fallet ? why have you been at grafs? Delpe. Why d'yee want a boyl'd fallet Monnfieur ? Lamar. Before St. Leans an Excellent Trimming, I'l ha' my next Suit, that I go into the Campaign with, trimm'd all with Safages. Maria. 'Twill make many a hungry Sonldier aim at yon, Colig. Well thought on ifaith Sir. Come friend, a Difti of Safages, a difli of Safages. Hoft. Why look you Sir, this Gentleman only niftook tha placing, thefe do better in a. belt C*ti*ued atpp. 104, 106. ACT. IV. sc. L THE REHEARSAL. 101 K. UJh. Come, dagger, come, and penetrate this heart. Which cannot from Lardellds Love depart Enter Pallas. Pal. Hold, flop your murd'ring hands At Pallafes commands : For the fuppofed dead, O Kings, Forbear to a<5l fuch deadly things. Lardella lives : I did but try If Princes for their Loves could dye. Such Cceleftial conftancie Shall, by the Gods, rewarded be : And from thefe Funeral obfequies A Nuptial Banquet mail arife. \The Coffin opens, and a Banquet is dif covered. BAYES. Now it's out. This is the very Funeral of the fair perfon which Volfcius fent word was dead, and Pallas, you fee, has turn'd it into a Banquet. JOHNS. By my troth, now, that is new, and more than I expelled. BAYES. Yes, I knew this would pleafe you : for the chief Art in Poetry is to elevate your expectation, and then bring you off fome extraordinary way. K. UJh. Refplendent Pallas, we in thee do find The fierceft Beauty, and a fiercer mind : And fince to thee Lardellds life we owe, We'l fupple Statues in thy Temple grow. K. Phys. Well, fince alive Lardella'?, found, Let, in full Boles, her health go round. [ The two Ufurpers take each of them a Bob in their hands. K. U/h. But where's the Wine? Pal. That mail be mine. Lo, from this conquering Lance, Does flow the pureft wine of France : And, to appeafe your hunger, I Have, in my Helmet, brought a Pye : Laftly, to bear a part with thefe, Behold a Buckler made of Cheefe. [ Vani/h Pallas. Fills the Boles out of her Lance. 102 ILLUSTRATIONS, &*c. 1 Enter Almahide with a Taper. Almahide. My Light will fure difcover thofe who talk; Who dares to interrupt my private Walk ? Almanzor. He who dares love ; and for that love muft dye, And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am I. Conquejl of Granada,?. II. Adi iv. p. 131. 0.1672. ' I will not now, if thou wouldft beg me, (lay ; But I will take my Almahide away. Idem* P. i. A<5lv. p. 60. Ed 1672. 3 Almanzor. Thou darfl not marry her while I'm in fight; With a bent brow thy Prieft. and thee I'le fright, And in that Scene Which all thy hopes and wifhes mould content, The thought of me fliall make thee impotent He is led off by Guards. Idem, P. I. A 61 v. p. 6l. Ed. 1672. Almanzor. Spight of my felf I'le Stay, Fight, Love, Despair, And I can do all this, becaufe I dare. Idem, P. n. Ad ii. p. 99. Ed. 1672. ACT. iv. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 103 Enter Drawcanfir. 1 K. Phys. Wh it man is this that dares diflurbour feail? Draw. He that dares drink, and for that drink dares die, And, knowing this, dares yet drink on, am I. JOHNS. That is as much as to fay, that though he v/ould rather die than not drink, yet he would fain drink for all that too. BAYES. Right ; that's the conceipt on't. JOHNS. 'Tis a marvellous good one ; I fwear. K. UJh. Sir, if you pleafe we mould be glad to know How long you here will flay, how foon you'l go. BAYES. Is not that now like a well-bred perfon, I gad ? So modeft, fo gent ! SMI. O, very like. * Draw. You mail not know how long I here will flay; But you mall know I'l take my Boles away. Snatches the Boles out of the Kings hands, and drinks 'em off. SMI. But, Mr. Bayes, is that (too) modeft and gent ? BAYES. No, I gad, Sir, but it's great. K. UJh. Though, Brother, this grum ftranger be a Clown, He'l leave us, fure, a little to gulp down. * Draw. Who e'er to gulp one drop of this dares think I'l flare away his very pow'r to drink. The two Kings fneak off the Stage, with their Attendants. 4 I drink, I huff, I ftrut, look big and flare ; And all this I can do, becaufe I dare. [Exit. SMI. I fuppofe, Mr. Bayes, this is the fierce Hero you fpoke of. BAYES. Yes; but this is nothing: you fhall fee him, in the lafl Act, win above adozen battels, one afteranother, I gad, as faft as they can poffibly be reprefented. JOHNS. That will be a fight worth feeing, indeed. SMI. But pray, Mr. Bayes, why do you make the Kings let him ufe 'em fo fcurvily ? 104 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. Continued from p. 100. Franc, A ftrange fellow this. Delpe. I, is it not ? come Sir, wine we see you have i Prethee let's taft the beft. Hoft. That you Qiall Sir ; If you'l hear Mufick, and a Song with't, I'm ready : you mall want nothing here. Sings. Yee may Tipple, and Tipple, and Tipple all out, Tillyee baffle the Stars, and the Sun face about. Delpe. Away with your Drunken fongs, have you nothing fitter to please the Ladies ? Hoft. Yes Sir. Ddpe. Come away with it then. Hoft Sings. Colig. Moft Excellent ifkith! Here's to thee honeft fellow with all my heart ; nay ftay a little, this is very good Wine ; here's to thee again heark you honeft fellow, let me fpeak with yon afide. D'ye Count here by pieces or d'ye treat by the head? Hoft. Fl treat by the head Sir, if you please ; a Crown a head, and you (hall have excellent cheer, Wine as much as you ran drink. Colig. That's honeftly faid ; you know my father friend, tis Mounfieur Cortaux. HoJL Yes Sir, the famous Scrivener here of Tours. Colig. Well, treat us very well, I'l fee thee pay'd. Hoft. Nay Sir, I'l fee myfelf pay'd, I'l warrant you, before you and I part. Colig. I do mean it fo honeft friend, but prethee fpeak not a word to the Gentlemen, for then you quite diigrace, Sir, your moft humble Servant HoJL Mum, a word to the wife is enough. Colig. Come, come, Friend where's the Capon of Bruges you laft fpoke of! Hoft. Here at hand Sir, Wife undo my Helmet, this, Sir, Is my Creft. Delp. A very improper one for a marri'd man. Colig. Yes faith and troth, he fhould have had horns, ha, ha, ha, Here's to yee noble Captain ; a very good jeft As I am a Gentleman : D'elp. I thank you Sir ! Colig. Methink's you are melancholly, Sir ! L/fma. Not I Sir, I can affure you : Lady's how Like ye the fport, an odd Collation, but well Contrived. Fran. The contrivance is all in all Concluded at p. 106. ACT. iv. sc. IT. THE REHEARSAL. 105 BAYES. Phoo ! that is to raife the character of JDrawcanfir. JOHNS. O' my word, that was well thought on. BAYES. Now, Sir, I'l fhew you a Scene indeed or rather, indeed, the Scene of Scenes. 'Tis an Heroick Scene. SMI. And pray, Sir, what is your defign in this Scene? BAYES. Why, Sir, my defign is Roman Cloaths, guilded Truncheons, forc'd conceipt, fmooth Verfe, and a Rant : In fine, if this Scene does not take, I gad, I'l write no more. Come, come in, Mr. a nay, come in as many as you can. Gentlemen, I muft defire you to remove a little, for I muft fill the Stage. SMI. Why fill the Stage ? BAYES. O, Sir, becaufe your Heroick Verfe never founds well, but when the Stage is full. SC^ENA II. Enter Prince Pretty -man, and Prince Volfcius. [Ay, hold, hold ; pray by your leave a little. Look you, Sir, the drift of this Scene is fomewhat more than ordinary : for I make 'em both fall out becaufe they are not in love with the fame woman. SMI. Not in love? you mean, I fuppofe, becaufe they are in love, Mr. Bayes ? BAYES. No, Sir ; I fay not in love : there's a new conceipt for you. Now, fpeak. Pret. Since fate, Prince Volfcius, has found out the way For our fo long'd-for meeting here this day, Lend thy attention to my grand concern. Vols. I gladly would that ftory of thee learn ; But thou to love doft, Pretty-man, incline : Yet love in thy breaft is not love in mine. BAYES. Antithefis I thine and mine. 106 ILLUSTRATIONS. &e. Concluded from p. 104. Maria. What makes my Brother kneel, look, look Sifter. Colig. Here's a health to our noble Colonel, Gentlemen, ye fee 'tis a good one ! Ltdp. Yes, and a large one, but if both drink it How fliall we lead your Sifters home ! Colig. No matter, Hem : here 'tis Gentlemen, super Naculitm Come, come a Tanfey Sirrah quickly. jydp. Has pos'd ye there mine Hoft. HoJL That's as time fhall try, look ye here Sir. The lining of my Cap is good for something. La'mar. Faith this was unlook'd for. Efelp. S'filh I think all his apparel is made of commendable Stuff ; has he not Ginger-bread-fhoes on. HoJL No truly Sir : 'tis feldom call'd for in a Tavern, Colig. Nay I've no need on't, faith thou art a brave Fellow : Here's mine HolYs health Gentlemen. IS dp. Could you procure thefe Ladies a difli of Cream Sir, this will (hew your Mafter-piece ! HoJL 'Tis the only weapon I fight at ; look ye Gentlemen the thunder has melted my fword In the fcabbard, But 'tis good, tafte it jydp. Th' aft my Verdia to be the wonder of Hofts, Shalt have a Patent for't if I have any Power at Court. T. PORIEK. Tki Villain. Ad iii Sc. L pp. 475 Ed- l66 3 ACT. iv. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 107 Pret, Since love it felf's the fame, why mould it be Diff'ring in you from what it is in me ? BAYES. Reafoning ; I gad, I love reafoning in verfe. Vols. Love takes, Canieleon-\\k.Q, a various dye From every Plant on which it felf does lye. BAYES. Simile \ Pret. Let not thy love the courfe of Nature fright : Nature does moft in harmony delight. Vols. How weak a Deity would Nature prove Contending with the pow'rful God of Love ? BAYES. There's a great Verfe ! Vols. If Incenfe thou wilt offer at the Shrine Of mighty Love, burn it to none but mine. Her Rofie-lips external fweets exhale ; And her bright flames make all flames elfe look pale. BAYES. I gad, that is right. Pret. Perhaps dull Incenfe may thy love fuffice ; But mine muft be ador'd with Sacrifice. All hearts turn afhes which her eyes controul : The Body they confume as well as Soul. Vols. My love has yet a power more Divine ; Victims her Altars burn not, but refine : Amid'ft the flames they ne'er give up the Ghoft, But, with her looks, revive ftill as they roaft. In fpite of pain and death, they're kept alive : Her fiery eyes makes 'em in fire furvive. BAYES. That is as well as I can do. Vols. Let my Parthenope at length prevail. BAYES. Civil, I gad. Pret. I'l fooner have a paffion for a Whale : In whofe vaft bulk, though ftore of Oyl doth lye, We find more fhape more beauty in a Fly. SMI. That's uncivil, I gad. BAYES. Yes; but as far a fetch'd fancie, though, I gad, as ever you faw. loS ILLUSTRATIONS, 1 Maximin. Thou ly'fl : there's not a God inhabits there, But for this Chriftian would all Heav'n forfwear. Ev'n Jove would try more fhapes her Love to win : \ And in new birds, and unknown beads would fin ; At leaft, iffove could love like Maximin. J. DRVDEN, Tyrannick Love, A(5l iL p. 19. Ed. 1670. *(a) Maximin. Stay ; if thou fpeak'ft that word, thou fpeak'ft thy lafl : Some God now, if he dares, relate what's pafl : Say but he's dead, that God (hall mortal be. Idem, A<51 L p. 7. Ed. 1670. (b] Maximin. Provoke my rage no farther, left I be Reveng'd at once upon the Gods and thee. Idem, Act i. p. 9. Ed. 1670, ACT. IV. SC. It. THE REHEARSAL. log Vols. Soft, Pretty-man, let not thy vain pretence Of perfect love, defame loves excellence. Parthenope is fure as far above All other loves, as above all is Love. BAYES. Ah ! I gad, that ftrikes me. Pret. To blame my Claris, Gods would not pretend. BAYES. Now mark. 1 Vols. Were all Gods joyn'd, they could not hope to mend My better choice : for fair Parthenope, Gods would, themfelves, un-god themfelves to fee, BAYES. Now the Rant's a coming. 1 Pret. Durfl any of the Gods be fo uncivil, I'ld make that God fubfcribe himfelf a Devil. BAYES. Ah, Godfookers, that's well writ ! Vols. Could'fl. thou that God from Heav'n to Earth tranflate, He could not fear to want a Heav'nly State. Parthenope, on Earth, can Heav'n create. Pret. Claris does Heav'n it felf fo far excel, She can tranfcend the joys of Heav'n in Hell. BAYES. There's a bold flight for you now ! 'Sdeath, I have lofl my peruke. Well, Gentlemen, this is that I never yet faw any one could write, but my felf. Here's true fpirit and flame all through, I gad So, So ; pray clear the Stage. [He puts 'em off the Stage. JOHNS. But, Mr. Bayes, pray why is this Scene all in Verfe ? BAYES. O, Sir, the fubjecl: is too great for Profe. SMI. Well faid, i' faith ; I'l give thee a pot of Ale for that anfwer : 'tis well worth it. BAYES. Come, with all my heart. I'l make that God fubfcribe himfelf a Devil. That fingle line, I gad, is worth all that my brother Poets ever writ. So, now let down the Curtain. [Exeunt. Finis Actus Quarti. 1 10 ILL USTRA TfONS. ACT.V. THE REHEARSAL. in ACTUS V. SC^ENA I. BAYES, and the two Gentlemen. BAYES. !BT?^S5|iO w > Gentlemen, I will be bold to fay, I'l (hew you the greatefl Scene that ever England faw : I mean not for words, for thofe s I do not value; but for ftate, mew, and magnificence. In fine, I'l juftifie it to be as grand to the eye every whit, I gad, as that great Scene in Harry the Eight, and grander too, I gad ; for, in- flead of two Bifhops, I have brought in two other Cardinals. The Curtain is drawn up, and the two ufurping Kings appear in State, with the four Cardi- nals, Prince Pretty-man, Prince Volscius, Amarillis, Cloris, Parthenope, &>c. before them, Heralds and Serjeants at Arms with Maces. SMI. Mr. Bayes, pray what is the reafon that two of the Cardinals are in Hats, and the other in Caps ? BAYES. Why, Sir, becaufe By gad, I won't tell you. SMI. I ask your pardon, Sir. K. UJh. Now, Sir, to the bufinefs of the day. Vols. Dread Soveraign Lords, my zeal to you, mufl not invade my duty to your Son ; let me intreat that great Prince Pretty-man firfl do fpeak : whofe high preheminence, in all things that do bear the name of good, may juftly claim that priviledge. Pret. Royal Father, upon my knees I beg That the Illuftrious Volfcius firft be heard. BAYES. Here it begins to unfold : you may perceive, now, that he is his Son 1 1 a ILL US TRA TIONS, 1 In Sept 1656, Sir W. D'AVENANT publifhed ' The Siege of Rhodes, made a Reprefentation by the Art of ProfpedHve in Scenes, And the ftory furig in Recitative Mufic. At the back of Rut/and-Hovfe in the upper end of Alderfgate-Sreet, London.' Inftead of A andfing, Nakar. Hark, my Damilcar, we are call'd below 1 Dam. Let us go, let us go ! Go to relieve the care Of longing Lovers in defpair ! Nakar. Merry, merry, merry, we fail from the Eaft Half tippled at a Rain-bow Feaft. Dam. In the bright Moon-mine while winds whiflle Tivy, tivy, tivy, we mount and we fly, [loud, All racking along in a downy white Cloud : And left our leap from the Skie mould prove too far, ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. 113 JOHNS. Yes, Sir ; and we are very much beholden to you for that difcovery. Vols. That preference is only due to Amarillis, Sir. BAYES. I'l make her fpeak very well, by and by, you (hall fee. Ama, Invincible Sovereigns [Soft Mufick. K. UJh. But flay, what found is this invades our ears ? K. Phys. Sure 'tis the Mufick of the moving Spheres. Pret. Behold, with wonder, yonder comes from far A God-like-Cloud, and a triumphant Carr : In which, our two right Kings fit one by one, With Virgin Vefts, and Laurel Garlands on. K. UJh. Then, Brother Phys*, 'tis time that we were gone. I The twoUfurpersJleal 'out of 'the Throne, and go away. BAYES. Look you now, did not I tell you that this would be as eafie a turn as the other ? SMI. Yes, faith, you did fo ; though I confefs, I could not believe you ; but you have brought it about, I fee. The two right Kings of Brentford defcend in the Clouds, fmging in white gar- ments ; and three Fidkrs fitting before them, in green. BAYES. Now, becaufe the two Right Kings defcend from above, I make 'em fmg to the Tune and Stile of our modern Spirits. 1 King. Hafte, brother King, we are fent from above. 2 King. Let us move, let us move : Move to remove the Fate Of Brentfords long united State. 1 King. Tara, tara, tara, full Eaft and by South, 2 King. We fail with Thunder in our mouth, In fcorching noon-day, whil'ft the traveller ftayes, Bufie, bufie, bufie, bufie, we buftle along. Mounted upon warm Phcebus his Rayes, Through the Heavenly throng, Hafte to thofe Ii 4 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. We flide on the back of a new-falling Star. Nakar. And drop from above, In a Gelly of Love 1 Dam. But now the Sun's down, and the Element's The Spirits of Fire againfl us make head ! [red, Nakar. They mufler, they mufler, like Gnats in the Alas ! I mufl leave thee, my Fair ; [Air, And to my light Horfe-men repair. Dam. O flay, for you need not to fear 'em to night ; The wind is for us, and blows full in their fight : And o're the wide Ocean we fight ! Like leaves in the Autumn our Foes will fall down ; And hifs in the Water Both. And hifs in the Water and drown ! Nakar. But their men lye fecurely intrench'd in a Cloud : And a Trumpeter-Hornet to battel founds loud. Dam. Now Mortals that fpie How we tilt in the fkie With wonder will gaze ; And fear fuch events as will ne're come to pals ! Nakar. Stay you to perform what the man will have [done, Dam. Then call me again when the Battel is won. Both. So ready and quick is a Spirit of Air To pity the Ix>ver, and fuccour the fair, That, filent and fwift, the little foft God Is here with a wifh, and is gone with a nod \TJie Clouds part, Nakar flies up, a/ar-wine. it R. STAPYLTON. The Slighted Maid, pp. 80- 8> Ed. i66/ ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 129 Luna. Luna that ne'er ftrines by day. Orb. What means Luna in a veil ? Luna. Luna means to mew her tail. Enter Sol. Sol. Fie, Sifter, fie ; thou mak'ft me mufe, Dery, dery down, To fee thee Orb abufe. Luna. I hope his anger 'twill not move ; Since I did it out of love. Hey down, dery down. Orb. Where (hall I thy true love know, Thou pretty, pretty Moon ? Luna. To morrow foon, ere it be noon, On Mount Vefuvio. \Bis. Sol. Then I will mine. Orb. And I will be fine. Luna. And we will drink nothing but Lipary wine. Omnes, And we, &c. BAYES. So, now, vanifh Eclipfe, and enter t'other Battel, and fight. Here now, if I am not miftaken, you will fee fighting enough. A battel is fought between foot and great Hobby- horfes. At la/I, Drawcanfir comes in, and kills 'em all on both fides. All this while the Battel is fighting, BAYES is telling them when toj}wut, and Jhouts with ''em. Draw. Others may boaft a fingle man to kill ; But I, the bloud of thoufands, daily fpill. Let petty Kings the names of Parties know : Where e'er I come, I flay both friend and foe. The fwifteft Horfmen my fwift rage controuls, And from their Bodies drives their trembling fouls. If they had wings, and to the Gods could flie, I would purfue, and beat 'em, through the skie : And make proud Jove, with all his Thunder, fee. This fingle Arm more dreadful is, than he. \Exit. BAYES. There's a brave fellow for you now, Sirs. I have read of your Heftor, your Achilles, and a hundred I 130 ILLUSTRATIONS, A*. 1 Valeria, Daughter to Maximin, having kfll'd her felf foi the Love of Porphyriut, when (he was to be carry 1 d off by the Bearers, ftrikes one of them a Box on the Ear, and fpeaks to him thus Hold ! are you mad ? you damn'd confounded Dog, I am to rife, and fpeak the Epilogue. Epilogue to the fccond edition of Tyrannitk Lave, 1672. A>y, 17C4- ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. 131 more ; but I defie all your Hiftories, and your Ro- mances too, I gad, to (hew me one fuch Conqueror, as this Drawcanfir. JOHNS. I fwear, I think you may. SMI. But, Mr. Bayes, how mail all thefe dead men go off? for I fee none alive to help 'em. BAYES. Go off ! why, as they came on ; upon their legs : how mould they go off? Why, do you think the people do not know they are not dead ? He is mighty ignorant, poor man; your friend here is very filly, Mr. Johnfon, I gad, he is. Come, Sir, I'l (how you go off. Rife, Sirs, and go about your bufinefs. There's go off for you. Hark you, Mr. Ivory. Gentlemen, I'l be with you prefently. [Exit. JOHNS. Will you fo ? then we'l be gone. SMI. I, pr'ythee let's go, that we may preferve our hearing. One Battel more would take mine quite away. [Exeunt. Enter BAYES and Players. BAYES. Where are the Gentlemen ? i Play. They are gone, Sir. BAYES. Gone ! 'Sdeath, this lafl Act is bed of all. I'l go fetch 'em again. [Exit. 3 Play. Stay, here's a foul piece of papyr of his. Let's fee what 'tis. [Reads. The Argument of the Fifth Aft. Claris, at length, being fenfible of Prince Pretty - man's paffion, confents to marry him ; but, jufl as they are going to Church, Prince Pretty-man meeting, by shance, with old Joan the Chandlers widow, and remembring it was me that brought him acquainted with Claris : out of a high point of honour, break off his match with Claris, and marries old Joan. Upon which, Claris, in defpair, drowns her felf: and Prince Pretty-man, difcontentedly, walks by the River fide. i Play. Pox on't, this will never do : 'tis jufl like the reft. Come, let's be gone. \Exeunt. ILLUSTRATIONS, About the time of the Reftoration and for fome years after the fafhionable hour of dining was twelve o'clock, and the play began at three. Bp. Percy. At the end of Sir W. D'AVENANT'S " The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru. Expreft by Inftrumentall and Vocall Mufick, and by Art of Perfpective in Scenes, &c. Reprefented daily at the Cockpit in Drury-Lane, At Three afternoone punctually" London 1658: is the following notice : ' Notwithstanding the great expence necefiary to Scenes, and other ornaments in this Entertainment, there is a good provifion made of places for a milling. And it mall begin certainly at 3 after noon. ' The Rehearsal is therefore fupposed to take place in ths morning. ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 133 Enter BAYES BAYES. A plague on 'em both for me, they have made me fweat, to run after 'em. A couple of fence- lefs rafcals, that had rather go to dinner, than fee this Play out, with a pox to 'em. What comfort has a man to write for fuch dull rogues ? Come Mr. a Where are you, Sir ? come away quick, quick. Enter Players a%ain. Play. Sir, they are gone to dinner. BAYES. Yes, I know the Gentlemen are gone ; but I ask for the Players. Play. Why, an't pleafe your worfhip, Sir, the Play- ers are gone to dinner too. BAYES. How! are the Players gone to Dinner? 'Tis impoflible : the Players gone to dinner ! I gad, if they are, I'l make 'em know what it is to injure a perfon that does 'em the honour to write for 'em, and all that. A company of proud, conceited, humorous, crofs-grain'd perfons, and all that. I gad, I'l make 'em the mofl contemptible, defpicable, inconfiderable per- fons, and all that, in the whole world, for this trick. I gad, I'l be reveng'd on 'em ; I'l fell this Play to the other Houfe. Play. Nay, good, Sir, don't take away the Book ; you'l difappoint the Town, that comes to fee it acted here, this afternoon. BAYES. That's all one. I mud referve this comfort to my felf, my Book and I will go together, we will not part, indeed, Sir. The Town ! why, what care I for the Town ? I gad, the Town has us'd me as fcurvily, as the Players have done : but I'l be reveng'd on them too : I will both Lampoon and print 'em too, I gad. Since they will not admit of my Plays, they fhall know what a Satyrifl I am. And fo farewel to this Stage for ever, I gad. \Exil. \ Play. What mail we do now ? '34 ILLUSTRATIONS, &*. 4CT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 135 2 Play. Come then, let's fet up Bills for another Play : We (hall lofe nothing by this, I warrant you. 1 Play. I am of your opinion. But, before we go, let's fee Jfaynes, and Shirley pradlife the laft Dance ; for that may ferve for another Play. 2 Play. I'l call 'em : I think they are in the Tyring- room. The Dance done. I Play. Come, come ; let's go away to dinner. \Rxennt omnes. EPILOGUE. [He Play is at an end, but where's the Plot ? That circumflance our Poet Bayes forgot, And we can boaft, though 'tis a plotting Age, No place is freer from it than the Stage. The Ancients Plotted, though, and flrove to pleafe With fence that might be underflood with eafe ; They every Scene with fo much wit did ftore That who brought any in, went out with more : But this new way of wit does fo furprife, Men lofe their wits in wond'ring where it lyes. If it be true, that Monftrous births prefage The following mifchiefs that afflicts the Age, And fad difafters to the State proclaim ; Plays, without head or tail, may do the fame. Wherefore, for ours, and for the Kingdoms peace, May this prodigious way of writing ceafe. Let 5 s have, at leaft, once in our lives, a time When we may hear fome Reafon, not all Rhyme : We have thefe ten years felt its Influence ; Pray let this prove a year of Profe and Sence. FINIS. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. RENEWALS ONLY TEL. NO. 642-3405 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. arm i n QDT K2 7MI AM 4 5 GLU \J LU*. ww i K.CB, MAR , ~B CflL JUN 5i 138^ - W - ' . LD21A-60m-3.'-0 T-niS^^rlllilSrni (X5382slO 1476-A-32 Loivenrty ot f California GENERAL LIBRARY - U.C. BERKELEY