LIBRARY 
 
 University of California" 
 
 IRVINE 
 
2cL 
 
 GEORGE VILLIERS. 
 
 Second Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 THE REHEARSAL. 
 
 First acted 7 Dec. 1671. Published [? July] 1672. 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PREVIOUS PLAYS, ETC. 
 
 CAREFULLY EDITED BY 
 
 EDWARD A R B E R, 
 
 Affociate, King's College, London, F.R.G.S., &*c. 
 
 LARGE PAPER EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 5, QUEEN SQUARE, BLOOMSBURY, W.C, 
 
 Ent.Stat.Hall^ I October, 1869. [All Rights referred. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 l.HK and Ti.Misul (iiuKtiK Yii.i.iKKs, Duke of Buck- 
 
 ingham ........ . 3 
 
 (i) Hi ian Fairfax's Memorials of him . . . .310 
 
 'ther characters of him, by Lord Peterborough, I'.p. 
 Hurnet, Count (irammont, S. Butler, and J. Dryden 10 12 
 INTRODUCTION ......... 13 
 
 Bim.ioGKAi'ny, ' The Rchearfal ' ..... iS 
 
 Keys to ' The Rehearsal' 19, 20, 26, 32, 36, .j 
 
 Tin-: A- /:///:. //v'.v.//, . 
 
 (1) Prologue ......... 23 
 
 (2) The Atfors ........ 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, Conqtiejl of Granada, Parts I. and II. 
 
 1672. 
 
 (Poet-laureate) The Indian Emperor. 1667. 
 Marriage-ti-la-mode. 1691. 
 Secret Love, or The Maids n Qi^vn. 
 
 1668. 
 
 Tyrannic Love. 1670 and 1672. 
 The Wild Gallant. 1669. 
 Sir R. Fanfhawe's tranflation (1654) of 
 Dun 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, Englt/h Monfieitr. 1674. 
 
 Sir W. Killigrew, Ormafdes, or Love and Fricndjliif*. 
 
 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 ........ 3 6 
 
The LIFE and TIMES 
 
 of 
 
 GEORGE VILLIERS, 
 
 Second Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 INSTEAD of the usual brief Chronicle, we shall on this occasion adduce a 
 series of testimonies that have come down to us from contemporaries, all 
 intimately acquainted with Villiers. 
 
 i. In the year 1758, was published in London, a 410 Catalogue of the 
 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 ;ift.er 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 
 Villiera, Duke of Buckingltatn, the celebrated Poet. Written by Brian Fair- 
 fax Esq. and never before published. This Z.z)tisboth able and graphic ; and 
 apparently authentic. As it will be new to most readers, \ve 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] Lora 
 Fairfax. Written by himself. The following gives the most favourable 
 account of Villiers; and would seem to show that up to the Restoration, he 
 was apparently no worse than his neighbours. 
 
 The original papers from wltence this manuscript 
 is faithfully taken, were written by Mr. 
 likiAN FAIRFAX, and in the possession of 
 the late bishop Atterbury. 
 Memoirs of the Life of GEORGE VILLIERS, 
 
 Duke of BUCKINGHAM. 
 CtOKGE V ll'ers, duke of Buckingham, was the son of that noble favourite 
 
4 BRIAN FAIRFAX'S Memoirs of the Life of 
 
 totwokiiv^s . who, in the height of his fortune and flower of hi* age, engaged 
 In-, i-si.n d his hie, in tin; serviie of his king and country. 
 
 'I he n. line of Villiers is .in. i.-ni and hi>in>iir.ililc in France and Kngland. 
 Philip de Villicrs L'islc Adam, was iln: List gu-at in. istcr of Rhodes, and 
 defended it six months against the Turkish emperor, Solyman. 
 
 mother was the 1-ady Kutherine Manners, sole daughter and 
 heir of Iran, is i-.irl "f Rutland. 
 
 II tna horn .it Wallingford house in Westminster, Jan. 30, 1627. 
 
 ler brother, Charles, died an infant. His sister Mary was dutchcss 
 of Kichiniind and Lennox. His brother Francis was horn 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 Kngland ; and from them both so 
 a body, as gave a lustre to the ornaments of his mind, and made him the glory 
 of the F.nglish court at home and abroad. 
 
 The first visit the king made to the dutches* after her husband's death, he 
 . , -d t say. He would be a husband to her, a father to her children ; 
 and In- performed his prom 
 
 The duti h'--s was then great with child, and the king said, He would be 
 godfatli irl 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,* * So in the 
 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 witii prince Charles. 
 
 Here the duke became acquainted with two excellent men, Mr. Ab. Cowlcy, 
 and Mr. Martin Clifford, whom he loved ever after, and they as faithfully and 
 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 M/J 
 and other good qualities to recommend him.t] is 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 ford Gerard ; and went with them into very sharp service : 
 the storming of the close 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 time their mother married the marquis of Antrim, and thereby 
 offended 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 gre.-.l state as 
 some of those sovereign princes. Florence and Rome were the places of their 
 residence, and they Drought their religion home again, wherein they had 
 been educated under the eye of the most devout and best of kings. 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 tut >i. Mr. M.>!e, in the 
 inquisition, for having translated king James's book, bil admonition to] 
 into la' in : and I)u Pleffis Morney's book of tiie mass into english. 
 
 Their return into England was in so critical a time, as if they had now 
 chosen the last opportunity, as they had done the first, of venturing all in 
 the king's service. 
 
 In the year 1648 the king was a prisoner in the isle of \Vi_-Kt . and his friends 
 in several parts cf England designing to mnew the war ; duke Hamilton in 
 
GEORGE ViLLitks, Second Duke of Buckingham. 5 
 
 Scotland, the earl of Holland and others in Surry, Goring in Kent, many in 
 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 
 t.iking 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 Hemy 
 Vllth's chapel, at the abbey of Westminster; with this inscription, which il 
 is a pity should be buried with him : 
 
 Qui vicesiir.o aetatis anno 
 
 Depositum 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 zoth 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 lay surrounded, 
 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 enqniy, 
 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, with 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, 
 tvhich adorned York-house, to the admiration of all men of judgment in pic- 
 tures : A note of their n.imcs and dimensions is all that is now left of them. 
 Ths Ecce Homo of Titian was valued at ,5000 being the figure of all the 
 
Memoirs of tbe Life of 
 
 a his time. The arch-duke bought it, and it is now in the 
 i.iMle nt to him l>y his old 
 
 ..ml, Mr |..htt Tr.iylrman, who livoil in York-house. 
 
 The 1. "' K" '"I" Scotland, the 'luke attended liim, and now 
 
 again tl.f paihaiii' nt oll'-i'-d him to , ompouncl for his estate for ,20,000, 
 
 value ; but he chose to run the king's fortune in 
 
 than exile, came with him out of Scotland into I, upland; 
 
 and at \Voni-,!rr hi almost as miraculnus as the kind's in (lie 
 
 i -11 into 1 ranee, and went a voluntier into the 
 
 end was much regarded by all the great ofTicers, signalizing 
 
 and Valenciennes. 
 
 U I,, n h..- i HMO to the Kniilisli court, which was but seldom, the king was 
 him. He loved nil person and his company; but the 
 :i about him desired rather his room than his company. 
 There now happened a great turn in the course of his life. My lord 
 had part of his estate, about .5000 per ann. allotted him by the par- 
 liaiii'-nt towards the payment of his arrears due to him as general, and he 
 reunited more than would have purchased a greater estate. They gave him 
 the m.mnor 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- 
 li. mii-iit had also assigned to him for his arrears, into her own hands, and she 
 
 d 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 a? 
 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 
 ving 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 Fortiinti SOTI'S lirfa negotiis. Over he came into England, to make 
 love to his only daughter, a most virtu ms 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, 
 !ul and beautiful person that any court in Europe ever 
 saw, i^e. Ail his trouble in wooing was, He came, saw, and conqii- 
 
 When he came into England he was not sure either of life or lil>L rty. He 
 was an outlaw, and had not made his peace with Cromwell, who would have 
 forbid the banns if/he 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 F'airfax, and where he kept as nob.e 
 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 ] 
 
 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 pr 
 and i.-xpostulated the case so as it put him into great passion, turning abruptly 
 from him in the gallery at Whitehall, cocking his hat, and M c /i 
 throwing his cloak under his arm.',| as he used to do when he * 
 was angry. Thus I saw him take his last leave of his old acquaintance, 
 ( 'romwell, whose servants expected he would be sent to bear the duke company 
 dt the tower the next morning, but the protector was wiser in his passion. 
 
GKORGE VILLIERS, Second Duke of Buckingham. 7 
 
 I carried the duke the news of the protector's death, and he had then leas e 
 to be a prisoner at Windsor castle, where his friend Ab. Covvley was his 
 constant companion. Richard Cromwell scon after abdicated, and then Ids 
 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 al 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 plus toto, wilh 
 which he used to pose young scholars ; and found by experience, that tht 
 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 courtshins but to his own wife, not so 
 much as to his after-beloved and costly mistre?.'>, 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 
 roy.il 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 whereoi' 
 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 som-a 
 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, voh>enda 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 hu 
 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 in 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, 
 being a consequence of that into France. 
 
8 BRIAN FAIRFAX'* Memoirs of the Life of 
 
 We took barge at Whitehall, June- 1^.71, and lay that night on hoard the 
 
 l-.nglisli atliiiir.il at ttic buoy in the Nore, I he king and duke being there. 
 
 The next night we came to anchor in our yacht in the Dutch fleet on the 
 
 Holland. The next night we were entertained by the states in 
 
 the Hague. The next nieht we snpp'd with the prince of Orange at 
 
 Ins r.ui ,vo. Next night with the king of France at Utrecht, 
 
 whrir wi- st. lid two or three days, and then march'd back with him at the 
 
 \nih<-iin, where we visited the prince de Guide, who lay 
 
 ill there of a woiinil in his arm, which he got passing the Rhine at Tolhua, 
 and Marshal Turin. Thence we went with the king to Nimeguen, Grave, 
 lioMrll, and there we parted. The king went to Paris, and we into the 
 Spanish dominions, to Antwerp, Brussels, Bruges, (Ihent, Dunkirk, and 
 Calais ; w In -rr 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 trance, where he was highly carressed by 
 the king, and many of the nobility his 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 lather 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, Iitsana substructions ; 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 
 his good qualities. 
 
 For his person, he was thi 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 to!d 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 ba^s 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 
 him, 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 so 
 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 father's 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 
 his estate, nor flattered him in his faults, and thought they escaped well in 
 not being oppressed under the ruins of his fortune. 
 
 [When he first began to settle his family he desired his old lit tfit origin- 
 Ji lends, Albraham] Cowlcy amlM[arlin] Clifford] to rccom al thu f.txi- 
 
GEORGE VILLIKRS, Second Duke of Buckingham. 9 
 
 mend to him a domestick chaplain. They knew how hard graph is u'rit- 
 it was to please him ; he must be a man of learning, wit, ten em a side of 
 good nature, good manners, a graceful person and decent paper, tacked 
 1 ehaviour. They found one [T. Sprat, afterwards Bp. of to the other 
 liochester. SeeW,OldysMS.notetoG.Langbaine\to\ht\r 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 
 Juke acquainted with another excellent person, whose in the same 
 friendship and conversation he much coveted, and wished Juind. 
 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 seyui.] 
 
 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 was^ttz profusus, he never was alieni 
 nppctens. 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, 
 jneditans purgarum, over the fumes of charcoal, it was said to be with 
 women. 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 saying, 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- 
 paired of. Mr. Fairfax went post, but before he got to him he was speech- 
 less. 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 
 
IO < <tlier Characters of 
 
 me some questions had been asked liim about his estate, to which he Rave 
 no answer. Thru he was admonished of the danger he was in, which he 
 seemed not to appn ' . 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 pi: 
 which he answered witli grc . no, no ! repeating the words, He 
 
 would have nothing to do with them. Then the aforesaid gentleman, Mr. 
 Cihson, ;isk'd him again if he would have the minister sent for, and he 
 c.ilmlv 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 dnkc 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 lied 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 Wesunii.stcr- 
 M,l there laid in the vault with his father and brothers, in Hen. the 
 Vllth'i chapel 
 
 dutchcss of Buckingham was the only daughter of Thomas lord 
 Fairfax, and Ann, the daughter of Horace Lord V, re. A most virtuous and 
 pi, uis l.idy, in a vitious age and court. If she had any of the vanii 
 had certainly none of the vices of it. The duke and she lived l,,vu 
 decently together; she patiently bearing with those faults in him wli 
 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. setat. 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. All 
 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 his bloody 
 shirt Spenre's Anecdotes, Ma fane's Edition, 1820, p 164. 
 
 3. Bp. G. BURNET, in his History of my own 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 
 well as in all other respects, so that his conversation was as much 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 ill pnnciples, and bad morals, was owing to the 
 Duke of Buckinglia m. i. 100. Ed. 1724. 
 
 4. Count GKAMMONT, in his Memoirs, thus sketches him about the yeari663- 
 
GEORGE VILLIERS, Duke of BUCKINGHAM. u 
 
 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 buff 
 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. //. 141-2. Ed. 1846. 
 
 5. SAMUEL BUTLER, Author of ffitdzl>ras,m 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 tor 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 ht vetains 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, 
 which he lives under ; and altho' he does nothing but advise with his Pillow 
 
12 Other Characters of O. VIM.IRRS, Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 :ill I l.iy, tic i* as great a Stranger to himself, as lie 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 
 him open to all Cheats, Quacks, and Impostors, who apply to every particu- 
 lar Humour while it lasts, and afterwards vanish. Thus with St. Paul, tho* 
 in a different sense, he tfiits daily, and only lives in the Night. He deforms 
 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, ii. 72 5. 
 6. DRYDEN published anonymously, on 171(1 November, 1681, the first part 
 of Absalom and Achitofihcl (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. 
 
 Si nue of their Chiefs were Princes of the Land! 
 
 I n 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 revolving 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 ! 
 
 With something New to wish, or to enjoy ! 
 
 Kayling 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. 
 
 1 n squandring Wealth was his peculiar Art : 
 
 Nothing went unrewarded, but Desert. 
 
 ^cr'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 
 
 I'.y forming Parties, but coud ne're be Chief: 
 
 For, spight of him, the weight of Business fell 
 
 ( >n Absalom and his wise Achitophel: 
 
 Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, 
 
 II _ 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 oj 
 Juvenal, London, fol. 1693, gives his own opinion of this sketch : 
 
 How easie it is to call Rogue and Villain, and that wittily? 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 to think it belongs to me. The 
 Character of Zimri in my Absalom, is, in my Opinion, worth the whole 
 Poem : Tis not bloody, but 'tis ridiculous enough. And he for whom it was 
 intended, was too witty to resent it as an injury. If I had rail'd, I 
 have suffer'd for it justly : But I manag'd my own Work more happily, [ r- 
 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 turn 
 who began the Frolick p. xiii. 
 
THE REHEARSAL 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 |NT the year 1708, was publifhed in London, 
 Rofcius Anglicanus, or an Hijlorical Re- 
 ricw 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 Lincolns- 
 JH n -Fields, Open'd there 1662. And as Book keeper and 
 Prompter, continu'd fo, till October 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 Subfcribes 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. John 1 s-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, 1 66 1, 1662 and part of 1663. In this time they Built 
 them a New Theatre in Drury Lane : Mr. Thomas Killigrew 
 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 Thitrfday in Eafttr Week, being the 8th, Day 
 of /f j>n/ 1663. With The Humorous Lieutenant.* 
 
 * PP -3 
 
14 Inli-odnfiion. 
 
 Many others [i.e. Plays] were Acted by the Old Company 
 at the Theatre Royal, from the time they begun, till the Patent 
 delcended to Mr. Charles Killigrew, which in 1682. In- join'd it 
 to I >r. /A/rr;/,/;//'s Patent, whofe Company Acted tln-n 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 I>ay 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 Darfnant 
 who upon the faid Junction in 1682, remov'd to the Theatre 
 Royal in Dntry-Lane, and Created the King's Company. 
 
 In the Year 1659, General J/c'///-, Marching then his Army 
 out of Scotland to Lmdon, Mr. Rhodes a Bookfeller being 
 Wardrobe-Keeper formerly (as I am inform'd) to King Charles 
 the Fiilt's, Company of Comedians in Black-Friars ; getting a 
 Licenfe from the then Governing State, fitted up a Houfc then 
 for Acting call'd the Cock Pit in Drury-Lane, and in a fliort time 
 Complcated his Company, t 
 
 In this Interim, Sir William Davenant gain'd a Patent from 
 the King, and Created Mr. Betterton and all the reft ofJfAffdfs'n 
 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 Lincoln* s-Ittn I-'idds. i . . . 
 
 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 RehearsM the Fir ft and 
 Second Part of 'The Siege of Rhodes' 1 ; and 'The Wits' at 
 Pothecarits-Ilall : And in Spring 1662, Open'd his Houfe with 
 the faid Plays, having new Scenes and Decorations, being the 
 firft that e're were Introduced in England.^ .... 
 
 Thefe being all the Principal, which we call'd Stock-Plays ; 
 that were Afled from the Time they Open'd the Theatre in 
 1662, to the beginning of May 1665, at which time the / 
 began to Rage : The Company ceas'd Afting; till the Ckrijl- 
 ma/s after the Fire in 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 JXn-cniiiit, Mr 
 Betterton, and Mr Harris, (Mr Charles Davenant her Son Ad nig 
 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 Afted 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'sCompany, 
 and immediately remov'd to the Theatre Royal in Drury-Lanc ' * 
 p. 16. +p. 17 {p. 19. p . jo. Up. 26. If p. 31. "p. 39. 
 
Introduction. 1 5 
 
 Such is the hiftory, by an eye-witnefs, of the London 
 flage foon after the Reftoration. 
 
 The then general ftate of fociety and town life is 
 defcribed in the third chapter of Lord Macaulay's 
 Hiftory of England. At prefent \ve have only to deal 
 with one particular fafhion of dramatic compofition. 
 the new, grandiloquent, bombaftic, pfeudo-heroic 
 plays, introduced by D'Avenant, and having for their 
 mailer-writer Dryden. It is impoffible here to meafure 
 the extravagance of thefe plays : fomewhat, however, may 
 be gathered from the Illuftrations to the prefent work. 
 
 Affociated with this was the inordinate ufe of rhym- 
 ing verfe. Dryden in early life fought the battle of 
 rhyme againft 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 ftudied 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 
 ftream of dramatic compofition. 
 
 Twofcholars, who have well ftudied this portion of our 
 literary hiftory, give the following accounts of this play. 
 
 EDMOND MALOXE, 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 exercifmg 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 Inlroduflion. 
 
 liy D'Avcnant, Drydcn, Slapylton, Howard, Killigrcw, and 
 others, much mif|)lace<1, and refolved to correct the publick 
 tafte by holding them up to ridicule. With this view, in con- 
 junction, it is faid, with Martin Clifford, Mafler of the Charter- 
 Houfe, Butler, Sprat, and others, he wrote the celebrated farce 
 entitled TIIK RKUEARSAL. Some of the contemporary writers 
 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, fliould 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 farce. 
 That fome interlude of this kind might have been thus early 
 intended, is not improbable, but afluredly the original hero was 
 i . .1 I Inward, but D'Avenant ; not only on account of the name 
 of Hi/boa, 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 Englim ftage. 
 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 mould 
 
 be the hero, an abundant use was made of his INDIAN EMPEROR 
 and CONQUEST OF GRANADA ; yet the author was unwilling to lofe 
 any of the ftrokes which were peculiarly levelled at D'Avenant, 
 and thus the piece became a kind of patchwork. 
 
 This lively farce was firft performed on the 7th of December, 
 
 1671, and was publifhed in the following year Much 
 
 of the fuccefs, doubtlefs, was owing to the mimickry employed, 
 Dryden's drefs, and manner, and ufual expreffions, were all 
 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 Lift 
 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 M it. Prose Works ofj. Dryden, i. 94100. Ed. 1800. 
 
Introduction. \ 7 
 
 called heroic becaufe they were written in a language elevated 
 above nature, and exhibit paflion in a flate of maniacal ecftafy. 
 Thefe pieces had now held poffeflion 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 afllfted 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, 
 fkilfully imitated in lines of furpaffmg 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 mowed that 
 he had a keen fenfe of the obligations the duke had laid him 
 under on this occafion, and he difcharged them in full, witli 
 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 feeni 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 frem heroic plays : fome 
 of thefe additions increafe, with the multiplying cor- 
 ruption of the times, in perfonality and moral orfenfive- 
 nefs. For our literary hiftory, the firft edition is fuffi- 
 cient. That, the reader now has. 
 
 Annot. Ed, of Eng. Poets, jf. Dryden, i. 40 42. Ed. ib54, 
 B 
 
iS 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY. THE REHEARSAL.' 
 
 Editions not seen, t Editions having the ' Key' either before or after the 
 text. having the Key ' in footnotes. 
 
 (c) Issues In ttit author's lifetime. 
 
 I. At a separate publication. 
 
 1. 1672. London. I vol. 410. Editia princeps : see title at p. 95. 
 fl. T Sefnnii edition. 
 
 3. T Third edition. 
 
 4. *i683. London, x vol. 4to. Fourth edition. There is a copy in Bod- 
 
 leian Library. 
 
 5. 1687. London. I vol. 4to. Title .is No. 1. 'The Fifth Edition with 
 
 Amendments and large Additions by the Author.' 
 
 (ft) issues since tfit Suitor's Dcatf). 
 I. As a separate publication. 
 
 6. 1692. London. I vol. 4to. Title as No. 1. The Sixth Edition. 
 
 I. 1701. London. I vol. 410. Title as No. 1. The Seventh Edition. 
 
 13. 1710. London. I vol. 8vo. 'The Rehearsal'; a Comedy Written by 
 
 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 the 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. 
 
 13- t'735- London. ivol.Svo. 'The Rehearsal '&c. The Thirteenth Edition. 
 
 15. ti755. London. ivol.Svo. ' The Rehearsal ' &c. The Fifteenth Edition. 
 
 18- 1768. London. ivol.Svo. 'The Rehearsal '&c. The Seventeenth Edition. 
 With the new occasional Prologue, written by 
 PAUL WIIITEHEAD Esq. on opening Covent 
 Garden Theatre, Sept th-; I4th 1767. 
 
 21- a Nov. 1868. London. ivol.Svo. English Reprints. See title at page i. 
 
 II. With other Works. 
 8. '1704. London. ? vols. Svo. Works. First edition. 
 
 II. 1711-12. London. A Collection of the best English Plays. Chosen 
 
 10 vols. 8vo. out of all the best Authors. Printed for the 
 Company of Booksellers. ' The Rehearsal ' is 
 in Vol. n. 
 
 12. ti7i5 (1714)- London. The Dramatick works of his Grace George 
 2 vols. Svo. Villiers, Late Duke of Buckingham. With his Mis- 
 cellaneous Poems, Essays and Letters. Adorn'd 
 with cuts. ' The Rehearsal ' is in Vol. u. 
 
 14. 1754. Edinburgh. The genuine Works of his Grace George Villiers 
 
 i vol. i2mo. Duke of Buckingham. Compleat. pp. 159-247. 
 
 17. 1787. London. Tlteatrical Magazine. 'The Rehearsal.' A 
 
 ? i vol. 8vo. Comedy as it is acted at the Theatres Royal in 
 Drury Lane and Convent Garden. 
 
 18. '797- London. BelFs British Theatre. ' The Rehearsal ' is in 
 
 34 vols. Svo. Vol. 29. 
 
 19. ti76i-iCo8. An edition of Villiers' Works : prepared by 
 
 2 vols. Svo. Bishop Percy, but never published. It was 
 nearly all destroyed by fire in 1808. See pp. 
 'The Rehearsal," and its ' Key,' are in Vol. I. 
 
 20. ti8n. London. The Modern British Drama. 'The Rehearsal* 
 
 5 vols. Svo. is in Vol. 4. 
 
 . '. This list is imperfect, 
 
TUm.lOGRAPHY. KEYS TO 'THE REHEARSAL.' 19 
 
 THERE is no authoritative explanation of the allusions and parodies in the 
 present play. All that can be done is to summarize the successive attempts 
 at its exposition. 
 
 1. Twenty years after its appearance, but in Dryden's life-time ; GERARD 
 LANGBAINE gives this account of it, in his Eng. Dram. Poets. Oxenford. 
 p. 546. Ed. 1691. 
 
 Rehearsal, a Comedy acted at the Theatre-Royal ; printed [4th Edit.] 
 quarto Land. 1683. This Play is ascribed to the Late Duke oi Buckingham, 
 and will ever be valued by Ingenious Men. There are some who pretend to 
 furnish a Clavis to it ; my Talent not lying to Politicks, I know no more of 
 it, than that the Author lashes several Plays of Mr. Dryden ; As Conquest 
 of Granada, Tyrannick Love, Love in a Nunnery, and some passages of 
 other Plays ; as The Siege of Rhodes, Virgin W~idow, Slighted Maid, 
 Villain, English Slonsieur, &*c. 
 
 2. Dean LOCKIER in Spence's ANECDOTES,/. 63. Ed. 1820, remarks, 
 The Rehearsal (one of the best pieces of criticism that ever was) and 
 
 Butler's inimitable poem of Hudibras, must be quite lost to the readers in a 
 century more, if not soon well commended. Tonson has a good Key to the 
 fonaer, but refuses to print it, because he had been so much obliged to 
 Dryden. 
 
 3. Only two Keys have ever been printed : it may be well to consider their 
 respective histories, before we take them in connection with the text. 
 
 (a) In 1704, in the first edition of Villiers' works in 8vo, of which I cannot 
 learn of any copy any where, appeared S. BRISCOE'S Key, which has been 
 very often reprinted ; at first separate from the text in 1710, next with it 
 as footnotes : see opposite page. 
 
 (b) June 12, 1761. Bp. T. PERCY entered into an agreement with Mess. Ton- 
 son, to publish an edition of the Works of George Villiers, the 2d Duke of 
 Buckingham, for which he received 52 guineas. J. Nichols Lit. Anec. iStA 
 Cent. Hi. 758. Ed. 1812. 
 
 On 15 Jan. 1764, Bp. Percy thus writes to Dr. Birch. 
 
 I ought to blush for having detained your books so long ; but one work 
 has been delayed through the expectation of enlarging the stock of materials. 
 The ' Key to the Rehearsal ' has long been printed off, all but the last sheet, 
 which we still keep open to receive some additions that we take for granted 
 will be picked up from a play of Edward Howard's, entitled ' Six Days 
 Adventure, or the New Utopia, 410 1671,' if we can once be so lucky as to 
 light upon it. This is the only play of that age which I have not seen. Mr. 
 Garrick unluckily has not got it in his collection, and Mr. Tonson has adver- 
 tised a small premium for it, hitherto without success. It is only scarce 
 because it is worthless ; and therefore, if chance should throw it in your 
 way, may I intreat the favour of you to procure me a sight of it? J. B. 
 Nichols. ///. oj Lit. Hist. z-ii. 572. Ed. 1848. 
 
 Twenty-eight years later ; Bp. Percy, thus writes to Horace Walpole, Earl 
 oi'Orford, under date n Aug. 1792. 
 
 I have at length been able to collect for your Lordship the sheets of Lord 
 Surrey and the Duke of Buckingham. They have been printed off about 
 25 years. Since the death of Jacob Tonson, at whose instance they were 
 undertaken, and who ought to have assigned them to other persons, they 
 have been wholly discontinued. My fondness for these pursuits declining, 
 I laid both those works aside, till I could offer them to some younger editor 
 than myself, who could with more propriety resume them. I have now an 
 ingenious nephew, of both my names, who is a fellow of St. John's College, 
 in Oxford, and both able and desirous to complete them. To him I have 
 given all the sheets so long since printed off, and whatever papers I had 
 upon the subject. 
 
 Of the ' Duke of Buckingham ' Tonson wished to have every thing collected 
 which had ever been ascribed to him : but I believe I shall only recommend 
 
 Lave been cancelled and consigned to the trunk-makers. F And the same fate 
 
2O BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO 'THE REHEARSAL.* 
 
 awaits the smaller pieces, collected into what is herewith numbered vol. II. 
 They arc only submitted to your Lordship in confidence, and I believe you will 
 thinkthcm scarcely deserving rcpublication. J. B. Nichols, Idem,-uiii. p. 289. 
 
 Mr. Nirlmls thus narrates the fate of this edition. 
 
 J >r. 1'ercy had, soon after the year 1760, proceeded very far at the press 
 with an admirable edition of ' Surrey's Poems,' and also with a good edition 
 of the Works of Villicrs Duke of Buckingham : both which, from a variety 
 of causes, remained many years unfinished in the warehouse of Mr. Tonson 
 in the Savoy, but were resumed in 1795, and nearly brought to a conclusion ; 
 hen the whole impression of both works was unfortunately consumed by the 
 fire in Red Lion Passage in 1808. Lit. Anec. i%th Cent. in. 161. Ed. 1812. 
 
 Of this edition there is a copy in 2 Vols, complete so far as prepared but 
 without a printed title page, in the British Mutueum. [Press Mark, C. 39. g.] 
 The MS. title-page thus runs, 'An edition prepared by Bp. Per. 
 never published. Nearly unique.' There is however under Press Mark, 643. 
 c 10. a fragment of the first Volume containing the Rehearsal and its Key. 
 
 4. Prefaced to both these ' Keys ' is an introduction. I give first Bp. PERCY'S, 
 because though a century later in date, it describes that of 1704. 
 b. A D VER TISEMENT. 
 
 THE former KEY hath long been complained of as inaccurate and 
 defective ; and yet has commonly past for the work of the Duke of 
 Buckingham. That it is the former, and cannot be the latter, a slight perusal 
 must convince every Reader. The Duke could not be ignorant of his own 
 meaning, nor doubtful about the aim of his own satire ; yet many passages 
 in that work display both ignorance and doubt. That the Preface prefixed 
 to it was written long after the death of our noble author, evidently appears 
 from several passages : Thus the author quotes Collier's view of the stage, 
 which was first published in 1698, whereas the Duke died in 1687. He also 
 speaks of the Rehearsal as having flourished in print two and thirty years, which 
 brings it down to the year 1704, when the first edition of the KEY was printed. 
 We are not to wonder that an explanation of so popular a satire should be 
 wanted at that time by the public, or that the booksellers should be desirous 
 
 of which are false, and a third superfluous. At length in the second volume 
 of the Duke's works 8vo, the larger attempt appeared under the following title 
 
 A KEY TO THE REHEARSAL OR A CRITICAL VIEW OF THE AUTHORS 
 AND Their Writings, that are exposed in that celebrated Play : 
 
 Written by his Grace GEORGE late Duke <j/"Buckingham 
 LONDON: Printed for S. Briscoe, 1704. 
 
 Here by a little bookseller's craft in making a break after the word PLAY, 
 the KEY is represented as written by the Duke ; when probably at first no 
 more was meant than that the play was written by him. After all 'tis pos- 
 sible, that the key may have been supplied in part from some of the Duke's 
 papers, and then the errors and defects are to be charged on those who put 
 them together and made additions to them. 
 
 Erroneous and defective, as that attempt was, the public had little room 
 to expect a better. It is near a century since the Rehearsal was first printed ; 
 and wh) at this distance of time could hope to recover any considerable mat- 
 ters of explanation, that had escaped former inquirers*. No such sanguine 
 expectations had the present compiler. The deficiences of the former key 
 led him sometimes to look into the plays referred to, but without any inten- 
 tion of attempting a new one. He soon found however that some obvious 
 improvements might still be made ; and the success of his researches en- 
 couraged him to extend them ; 'till at length he resolved by a professed pur- 
 suit, to compleat what he had begun by accidental snatches. To this he was 
 encouraged by the free access, which Mr. Garrick in the politest manner gave 
 him to his large collection of old plays ; by far the complcatest ever made in 
 these kingdoms. Here the editor found almost every dramatic piece in our 
 Continued at pages 26, 33, 36, 46, 43. 
 
THE 
 
 REHEARSAL 
 
 As it was Adled at the 
 
 Theatre- Royal. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed for Thomas Dring, at the White-Lyon, 
 next Chancery-lane end in Fleet- 
 street. 1672. 
 
S3 ILL US TRA T10NS, <Srv. 
 
 1 Dryden, in his pre'atory Effay Of Heroiqiie Playes to The Con- 
 quejl of Granada, Ktl. 1672, thus gives the origin of the new 
 way of writing plays. 
 
 "For Heroick Plays, (in which onely I have us'd it [/'. e., 
 Rhyme] without the mixture of Profe) the firft light we had of 
 them on the Englifh Theatre was from the late Sir tVilliam 
 D 'Avenant : It being forbidden him in the Rebellious times to 
 act Tragedies and Comedies, becaufe they contain'd fome matter 
 of Scandal to thofe good people, who could more eafily difpoffefs 
 their lawful Sovereign then endure a wanton jeaft; he was forc'd 
 to turn his thoughts another way ; and to introduce the examples 
 of moral vertue, writ in verfe, and perform'd in Recitative Mufique. 
 The Original of this mufick and of the Scenes which adorn'd 
 his work, he had from the Italian Operas : but he heightn'd his 
 Characters (as I may probably imagine) from the example of 
 Comeille and fome French Poets. In this Condition did this 
 part of Poetry remain at his Majefties return. When growing 
 bolder, as being now own'd by a publick Authority, he review'd 
 his Siege of Rhcdts, and caus'd it to be acted as a juft Drama ; 
 but as few men have the happinefs to begin and finifh any new 
 project, fo neither did he live to make his defign perfect. 
 
 1 (a) GERARD LANGBAINE gives this account of Lacy : 
 
 A Comedian whofe Abilities in Action were fufficiently known 
 to all that frequented the King's Theatre, where he was for 
 many years an Actor, and perform'd all Parts that he under- 
 took to a miracle ; infomuch that I am apt to believe, that as 
 this Age never had, fo the next never will have his Equal, at lead 
 not his Superiour. He was fo well approv'd of by King Charles 
 the Second, an undeniable Judge in Dramatick Arts, that he 
 caus'd his Picture to be drawn, in three feveral Figures in the 
 fame Table, viz. That of Teague in the Committee, Mr. Scruple 
 in The Cheats, and M. Galliard, in The Variety: which piece 
 is ftill in being in Windfor Cajlle, Nor did his Talent wholly 
 lye in Acting, he knew both how to judge and write Plays : and 
 if his Comedies are fomewhat allied to French Farce, 'tis out of 
 choice, rather than want of Ability to write true Comedy. 
 
 Account of Eng. Dram. Poets, p. 317. Oxenford, 1691. 
 
 Lacy wrote four Comedies, printed in the following years : 
 Dumb Lady, or The Farriar made Phyfitian, 1672, 410. 
 Old Troop, or Monjieur Ragou, 1672, 410. 
 Sawny the Scot, or The Taming of a Shrew, 1677, 410. 
 Sir Hercules Buffoon, or The Poetical Squire, 1684, 4to. 
 
 (b) Dean LOCKIER, in Spence's ANECDOTES, p. 63, Ed. 1820, 
 fays : 
 
 It is incredible what pains Buckingham took with one of the 
 actois, to teach him to fpeak fome paffages in Bayes' part, in 
 The Rehearfal right. 
 
 This actor was Lacy, fee p. 16. 
 
'PROLOGUE. 
 
 IE might well call this fhort Mock-play of 
 ours 
 
 A Pofie made of Weeds inflead of Flowers ; 
 
 Yet fuch have been prefented to your nofes, 
 And there are fuch, I fear, who thought 'em Rofes. 
 Would lome of 'em were here, to fee, this night, 
 What fluff it is in which they took delight. 
 Here, brisk, infipid Blades, for wit, let fall 
 Sometimes dull fence ; but oft'ner, none at all : 
 There, flrutting Heroes, with a grim-fac'd train, 
 Shall brave the Gods, in King Cambyfes vain. 
 For (changing Rules, of late, as if men writ 
 In fpite of Reafon, Nature, Art, and Wit) 
 Our Poets make us laugh at Tragcedy, 
 And with their Comedies they make us cry. 
 Now, Critiques, do your worft, that here are met ; 
 For, like a Rook, I have hedg'd in my Bet. 
 If you approve ; I fhall affume the ftate 
 Of thofe high-flyers whom I imitate : 
 And juflly too ; for I will mew you more 
 Than ever they vouchfaf 'd to fhew before : 
 I will both reprefent the feats they do, 
 And give you all their reafons for 'em too. 
 Some honour to me will from this arife. 
 But if, by my endeavours, you grow wife, 
 And what was once fo prais'd you now defpife ; 
 Then I'l cry out, fwell'd with Poetique rage, 
 'Tis I, John Lacy? have reform'd your Stage. 
 
Efje Actors Names. 
 
 BAVES. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 SMITH. 
 
 Two Kings </ Brent ford. 
 
 Prince Pretty-man. 
 
 Prince Volfcius. 
 
 Gentleman U/Jier. 
 
 Phyfician. 
 
 Drawcanfir. 
 
 General 
 
 Lieutenant General. 
 
 Cordelio. 
 
 Tom Thimble. 
 
 Fijhcrrnan. 
 
 Sun. 
 
 Thunder. 
 
 Players. 
 
 Souldiers. 
 
 Two Heraldi 
 
 Four Cardinals. 
 
 Mayor. 
 
 Judges. 
 
 Serjeants at Arms. 
 
 VUnux. 
 
 Amaryllis. 
 
 Cloris. 
 
 Parthenope. 
 
 Pallas. 
 
 Lightning. 
 
 Moon. 
 
 Earth. 
 
 Attendants oj Men and Women. 
 SCENE. BRENTFORD. 
 
THE 
 
 REHEARSAL. 
 
 ACTUS I. SC^NA I. 
 
 JOHNSON and SMITH. 
 
 JOHNS. iR^P^MiiP ne ft Frankl I'm glad to fee thee 
 with all my heart: how long 
 haft thou been in Town ? 
 
 SMI. Faith, not above an 
 hour : and, if I had not met you 
 here, I had gone to look you out ; for I long to talk 
 with you freely, of all the ftrange new things we have 
 heard in the Country. 
 
 JOHNS. And, by my troth, I have long'd as much 
 to laugh with you, at all the impertinent, dull, fantafli- 
 cal things, we are tir'd out with here. 
 
 SMI. Dull and fantaftical ! that's an excellent com- 
 pofition. Pray, what are our men of bufmefs doing ? 
 
 JOHNS. I ne'er enquire after 'em. Thou know'ft 
 my humour lyes another way. I love to pleafe my 
 felf as much, and to trouble others as little as I can : 
 and therefore do naturally avoid the company of thofe 
 folemn Fops ; who, being incapable of Reafon, and 
 infenfible of Wit and Pleafure, are always looking 
 grave, and troubling one another, in hopes to be 
 thought men of Bufmefs. 
 
26 BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO 'THE RF.HKARSAL. 
 
 language, and had thereby nn advantage, which perhaps no former compiler 
 ever li nl, in h iving all his materials ready collected to his hands. He had 
 nothing to dn, !>tit sit dnwn and examine: he accordingly read over every 
 plav, which the Duke could lx_- supposed to have: in his eye ; chiefly all such 
 as were either published or revived from the time of il, :i till the 
 
 puMii ation of the Rehearsal : for tho' tlic Duke's view was chiefly to satirize 
 whit was thrill-ailed "the new way of writing," yet In ibsurdi- 
 
 ties nf longer standing, chiefly when the plays, which contained them, had 
 been revived afresh, or still continued to captivate the publtck. 
 
 How far the research ii|ioii the whole has l>een successful the Reader will 
 judge from the following pages. He will find many obscurities removed ; 
 and numerous references recovered : far more of both than o mid reasonably be 
 expected, considering that no assistance could be had but what is fetched from 
 books, and that all pi:r-onal information has been loir.; since swallowed up in 
 the gulph of time. It mil I however be acknowledged that our inquiries have- 
 not always l>eeii successful : E s still remain, that evidently allude 
 to absurdities then current upon the stage, yet of which we could find no 
 traces in any play then published. Itut this is no more than might be ex- 
 pectd : We have that one play.* which the Duke has j 'iculed, 
 was damned in the representation and therefore never printed : and the 
 same might also be the case with others. Again the authors might remove 
 the offensive paag'-s from such plays as they published, so that no appear- 
 ance of them is now remaining. After all. we arc not to suppose that so 
 masterly a pencil, as the Duke's, when finishing such a character as that of 
 Bayes. would be confined to a mere dead likeness : he would not fail to 
 heighten the caricature with a thousand touches supplied from his own fancy, 
 and bring in whatever served to render the piece comp'.eat. whether it resem- 
 bled the original or not. 
 
 Altho' the former key was faulty, it contained some particulars too valuable 
 to be suppressed ; we have therefore inserted the several articles everywhere 
 in our own, taking care to correct the mistakes, and distinguishing every 
 such article by an asterisk (*). We have also retained the former preface ; 
 as it preserved the memory of certain facts necessary to the illustration of the 
 Rehearsal, and not found anywhere else. 
 
 We next give BRISCOK'S address. 
 
 a. The PiMiJJier to the Reader. 
 
 THOU canst not be ignorant, that the town has had an eager expectation 
 of a KEY to the RKIIEAKSAL ever since it fiist appeared in print; and 
 none has more earnestly desired it than myself, tho' in vain : Till lately a 
 gent'eman of my acquaintance recommended me to a person, who he believed 
 could give me a further light into this matter, than I had hitherto met with 
 from any hand. 
 
 In a short time I traced him out ; and when I had found him, he appeared 
 such a positive dogmatical spark, that I began to repent of my trouble in 
 searching after him. 
 
 It was my misfortune over a pot of beer to begin a short discourse of the 
 modern poets and actors : and immediately he fell into a great passion, and 
 swore, that there were very few persons now living, who deserved the name 
 of a good dramatick poet, or a natural actor ; and declaimed against the 
 present practice of the English stage with much violence ; saying, lie believed 
 the two companies were joined in a confederacy against Smithtield, and re- 
 solved to ruin their fair, by out-doing them in their bombastick bills, and 
 ridiculous representing their plays ; adding, that he hoped erelong M I'm. I. UK 
 and others would write them down to the devil. At the same time, he could not 
 forbear to extol the excellent decorum and action of former years : and mag- 
 iiified the poetsof the last age.especiallyjohnson. Shakcspear, and Beaumont. 
 
 I bore all this with tolerable patience, knowing it to be too common with 
 old men to commend the past age, and rail at the present ; and so took my 
 
 * Tlt Uxited Kingdoms, by Col. Henry Howard. 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 dullefl of men. 
 
 JOHNS. I, and of Birds, and Beafls 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 paflime. 
 
 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 gaffes o'er the Stage. 
 
 BAYES. Your moft obfequious, and mofl 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. [Goes after 
 /'///.] Here he is. I have caught him. Pray, Sir, for 
 my fake, will you do a favour to this friend of mine ? 
 
a8 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 1 In fine, it fliall read, and write, and a<5t, and plot, 
 and fhew, ay, and pit, box, and gallery, I gad, with any 
 Play in Europe. 
 
 The ufual language of the Honourable Ed-ward Hmvard, Efq. ; 
 at the Rehearfal of his Plays. A'OS 1 704. 
 
ACT. i. THE REHEARSAL. 29 
 
 BAYES. Sir, it is not within my fmall capacity to do 
 favours, but receive 'em ; efpecially from a perfon that 
 does wear the honourable Title you are pleas'd to 
 impofe, Sir, upon this. Sweet Sir, your servant. 
 
 SMI. Your humble servant, Sir. 
 
 JOHNS. But wilt thou do me a favour, now ? 
 
 BAYES. I, Sir: What is't? 
 
 JOHNS. Why, to tell him the meaning of thy laft 
 Play. 
 
 BAYES. How, Sir, the meaning ? do you mean the 
 Plot. 
 
 JOHNS. I, I ; any thing. 
 
 BAYES. Faith, Sir, the Intrigo's now quite out of my 
 head ; but I have a new one, in my pocket, that I may 
 fay is a Virgin ; 't has never yet been blown upon. I 
 muft tell you one thing, 'Tis all new Wit; and, though 
 I fay it, a better than my laft : and you know well 
 enough how that took. l In fine, it mall read, and 
 write, and act, and plot, and mew, ay, and pit, box 
 and gallery, I gad, with any Play in Europe. This 
 morning is its laft Rehearfal, in their habits, and all 
 that, as it is to be acted ; and if you, and your friend 
 will do it but the honour to fee it in its Virgin attire ; 
 though, perhaps, it may blufh, I mall not be afham'd 
 
 to difcover its nakednefs unto you. 1 think it is o' 
 
 this fide. \_Puts his hand in his pocket. 
 
 JOHNS. Sir, I confefs I am not able to anfwer you 
 in this new way ; but if you pleafe to lead, I fhall be 
 glad to follow you ; and I hope my friend will do fo too. 
 
 SMI. I, Sir, I have no bufmefs fo confiderable, as 
 fhould keep me from your company. 
 
 BAYES. Yes, here it is. No, cry you mercy : this is 
 my book of Drama Common places ; the Mother of 
 many other Plays. 
 
 JOHNS. Drama Common places ! pray what's that ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, fome certain helps, that we men 
 of Art have found it convenient to make ufe of. 
 
 SMI. How, Sir, help for Wit ? 
 
 BAYES. I, Sir, that's my pofition. And I do here 
 
30 ILLUSTRATIONS, 6v. 
 
 I. 
 
 'He who writ this, not without pains and thought 
 From French and Rn^li/Ji Theaters has brought 
 Th' exacleft. Rules by which a Play is wrought. 
 
 11. 
 
 The Unities of A<5lion, Place, and Time ; 
 The Scenes unbroken ; and a mingled chime 
 Q{ Johnfons humour, with Corneilles rhyme. 
 J. ~Q*.\DV.y. t ProloguetoSecretLove,ortheMaidenQ.ueen. Ed. 1668. 
 
 'In Dryden's lifetime, GERARD LANGBAINE, in his Account 
 c/ l-'.ng. Dram. Potts, Eel. 1691, /. 169, noticing Dryden's 
 Secret Love or The Maiden Queen, says : I cannot pafs by his 
 making ufe of Hayes's Art of Tranfverfing, as any One may oblerve 
 l>y comparing the Fourth .Stanza of his Firft Prologue, with the 
 laft Paragraph of the Preface of Ibrahim. 
 
 The title of this work, is as follows: "Ibrahim. Or the Illuf- 
 triousBaffa. An excellent new Romance. The whole Work, in 
 foure Paits. Written in French by Monfieur de Scudery. And 
 now Engliftied by HENRY COGAN, gent. London 1652." The 
 paragraph referred to, runs thus : 
 
 Behold, Reader, that which I had to fay to you, 
 
 but what defence foever I have imployed, I know that 
 
 it is of works of this nature, as of a place of war, 
 
 where notwithflanding all the care the Engineer hath 
 
 brought to fortifie it, there is alwayes fome weak 
 
 part found, which he hath not dream'd of, and whereby 
 
 it is aflaulted ; but this mail not furprize me ; for as 
 
 I have not forgot that I am a man, no more 
 
 have I forgot that I am fubjecl to erre 
 
 This is thus verfified in the fourth ftanza of the fame Prologue. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Plays are like Towns, which how e're fortify'd 
 By Engineers, have ft.il! fome weaker fade 
 By the o're-feen Defendant unefpy'd. 
 
ACT. r. THE REHEARSAL. 3I 
 
 averr, That no man yet the Sun e'er fhone upon, has 
 parts fufficient to furnifli out a Stage, except it be with 
 the help of thefe my Rules. 1 
 
 JOHNS. What are thofe Rules, I pray? 
 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, my firfl Rule is the Rule of Tranf- 
 verfion, 2 or Regula Duplex : changing Verfe into Profe, 
 or Profe into verfe, alternative as you pleafe. 
 
 SMI How's that, Sir, by a Rule, I pray? 
 
 BAYES. Why, thus, Sir; nothing more eafie when 
 underftood : I take a Book in my hand, either at 
 home, or elfewhere, for that's all one, if there be any 
 Wit in't, as there is no Book but has fome, I Tranf- 
 verfe it ; that is, if it be Profe, put it into Verfe, (but 
 that takes up fome time) if it be Verfe, put it into 
 Profe. 
 
 JOHNS. Methinks, Mr. Bayes, that putting Verfe 
 into Profe mould be call'd Tranfprofmg. 
 
 BAYES. By my troth, a very good Notion, and here- 
 after it mail be fo. 
 
 SMI. Well, Sir, and what d'ye do with it then? 
 
 BAYES. Make it my own. Tis fo alter'd that no 
 man can know it. My next Rule is the Rule of 
 Record, and by way of Table-Book. Pray obferve. 
 
 JOHNS. Well, we hear you : go on. 
 
 BAYES. As thus. I come into a Coffee-houfe, or 
 fome other place where wittie men refort, I make as if 
 I minded nothing ; (do you mark ?) but as foon as any 
 one fpeaks, pop I flap it down, and make that, too, 
 my own. 
 
 JOHNS. But, Mr. Bayes, are not you fometimes in 
 danger of their making you reftore, by force, what you 
 have gotten thus by Art ? 
 
 BAYES. No, Sir ; the world's unmindful : they never 
 t-i.ke notice of thefe things. 
 
 SMI. But pray, Mr. Bayes, among all your other 
 Rules, have you no one Rule for Invention ? 
 
 BAYES. Yes, Sir ; that's my third Rule that I have 
 here in my pocket. 
 
 SMI. What Rule can that be ? 
 
32 BIBLIOGRAPHY. KF.YS TO ' THE REHEARSAL' 
 
 Can fin lied from page 26. 
 
 leave of him for lh.it time, with an intent never to trouble him more, and 
 without acquainting him with my IHIMI 
 
 When in \t I s.iw the gentleman my friend, who recommended him to me, 
 I tulil liiin how I was entertained by his cynical acquaintance. He laughed, 
 but bid me not be discouraged ; saying, that fit of railing would soon have 
 been over, and when his just indignation had spent itself, you might have im- 
 parted your business to him, and received a more s.ctisf.u lory account. How- 
 nl he, go to him again from me, take him to the Tavern, and mollify 
 illy with a bottle ; thwart not his discourse, but give him his own way ; 
 and I'll warrant you, he'll open his budget, and satisfy your expectation. 
 
 1 followed my friend's directions, and found the event answerable to his 
 prediction. 
 
 Not long after, I met him in Fleet Street, and carried him to the Old 
 Devil ; and ere we had emptied one bottle, I found him of a quite different 
 humour from what I left him in the time before: he appeared in his discourse 
 lobe a very honest true Knglisliman, a hearty lover of his country, and the 
 government thereof, both in church and state, a loyal subject to his sovereign, 
 an enemy to popery and tyranny, idolatry and superstition, antimonarchic.il 
 government and confusion, irreligion and enthusiasm. In short, 1 found him 
 a person of a competent knowledge in the affair I went to him about, and one 
 who understood the English Stage very well ; and tho' somewhat positive, as 
 I said before, yet I observed he always took care to have truth on his side, 
 before he affirmed or denied anything with more than ordinary heat ; and 
 when he was so guarded, he was immoveable. 
 
 When I had discovered thus much, and called for the second bottle, I told 
 him from whom I came, and the cause of my addressing to him. He desired 
 my patience till he slept to his lodgings, which were near the tavern ; and 
 after a short space he returned, and brought with him the papers, which con- 
 t.tin the following notes. 
 
 When he had read them to me, I liked them so well, that I desired the 
 printing of them, provided they were genuine. He assured me they were, 
 and told me farther : 
 
 That while this farce was composing and altering, he had frequent occa- 
 sions of being with the author, of perusing his papers, and hearing him dis- 
 course of the several plays he exposed, and their authors ; insomuch that 
 few persons had the like opportunities of knowing his true meaning, as he 
 himself had. 
 
 If any other persons had known the author's mind so exactly, in all the 
 several particulars, 'tis more than probable they would have been made 
 publick before now: but nothing of this nature having appeared these TWO 
 AND THIRTY YEARS; (for so long has this farce flourished in print) we may 
 reasonably and safely conclude, that there is no other such like copy in 
 being : and that these remarks are genuine, and taken from the great Person's 
 own mouth and papers. 
 
 I was very well satisfied with this account, and more desirous to print it 
 than ever ; only I told him, I thought it would be very advantageous to the 
 sale of these Annotations, to have a Preface to them, un lor the Name of 
 him, who was so well acquainted with the Author : but could not, by all 
 the arguments I was master of, obtain his Consent, tho' we debated the point 
 a pretty while. 
 
 He alledg'd for his excuse, that such an undertaking would be very im- 
 proper for him, because he should be forced to name several persons, and 
 some of great families, to whom he had been obliged ; and he was very un- 
 willing to offend any person of quality, or run the hazard of making such who 
 are, or may be his friends, become his enemies ; tho' he should only act the 
 part of an historian, barely reciting the words he heard from our Author. 
 
 However, said he, if you think a preface of such absolute necessity, you 
 may easily recollect matter enough from the discourse which hath passed be- 
 tween us, on this subject, to enable yourself, or any other for you, to write 
 one ; especially if you consider there are but two topicks to be insisted on. 
 Continued at page 36. 
 
,\CT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 33 
 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, when I have any thing to invent, 
 I never trouble my head about it, as other men do ; 
 but prefently turn o'er this Book, and there I have, at 
 one view, all that Perfeus, Montaigne, Seneca's Trage- 
 dies, Horace, Juvenal, Clandian, Pliny, Plutarch's lives, 
 and the reft, have ever thought, upon this fubject : 
 and fo, in a trice, by leaving out a few words, or put- 
 ting in others of my own, the bufmefs is done. 
 
 JOHNS. Indeed, Mr. Bayes, this is as fure, and com- 
 pendious a way of Wit as ever I heard of. 
 
 BAYES. I, Sirs, when you come to write your felves, 
 o' my word you'l find it fo. But, Gentlemen, if you 
 make the leaft fcruple of the efficacie of thefe my 
 Rules, do but come to the Play-houfe, and you (hall 
 judge of 'em by the effects. 
 
 SMI. We'l follow you, Sir. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter three Players upon the Stage. 
 
 1 Play. Have you your part perfecT. ? 
 
 2 Play. Yes, I have it without book ; but I do not 
 underftand how it is to be fpoken. 
 
 3 Play. And mine is fuch a one, as I can't ghefs 
 for my life what humour I'm to be in : whether angry, 
 melancholy, merry, or in love. I don't know what to 
 make on't. 
 
 1 \Play. ~\ Phoo ! the Author will be here prefently, 
 and he'l tell us all. You muft know, this is the new 
 way of writing; and thefe hard things pleafe forty 
 times better than the old plain way. For, look you, 
 Sir, the grand defign upon the Stage is to keep the 
 Auditors in fufpence ; for to ghefs prefently at the 
 plot, and the fence, tires 'em before the end of the firfl 
 Act : now, here, every line furprifes you, and brings 
 in new matter. And, then, for Scenes, Cloaths and 
 Dancing, we put 'em quite down, all that ever went 
 before us : and thefe are the things, you know, that 
 are effential to a Play. 
 
 2 Play. Well, I am not of thy mind; but, fo it gets 
 vs money, 'tis no great matter. 
 
 c 
 
34 ILL US TRA TfONS, 
 
 1 The Part of Amaryllis was a<5led by Mrs. Ann Reeves, who, 
 it that Time, was kept by Mr. Bayes. . . Key 1 704. 
 
 The licentiousness of Dryden's plays admits of no palliation or defence. He 
 r a licentious stage in a profligate age, and supplied, much to his own 
 dilgrace, the kind of material the vicious taste of his audio ccs demanded. 
 Nor will it serve his reputation to contrast his productions in this way with 
 those of others. Shad well alone transcended him in depravity. Hut there is 
 some compensation for all his grossness in turning from his plays to his life, 
 and marking the contrast. The morality of his life-^-the practical test of his 
 heart and his understanding- was unimpeachable. The ingenuity of slander 
 .Misled in assailing his principles, and exposing his person to obloquy 
 but the morality of his life comes pure out of the furnace. The only hint 
 of personal indiscretion ascribed to him is that of having eaten tarts with Mrs. 
 Reeve theactrcss, in the Mulberry garden, which, iftruc, amounts to nothing, 
 but which, trivial as it is, must be regarded as aporryph;il. To cat tarts with 
 an actress did not necessarily involve any grave delinquency in a poet who was 
 writing for the theatre ; yet upon this slight foundation, for I have not been 
 able to discover that it rests upon any other, a suspicion has been raised, that 
 Mrs. Reeve was his mistress. By way, however, of mitigating the odium 01 
 this unwarrantable imputation, it is added, that after his marriage Dryden 
 renounced all such associations. But his relations with Mrs. Reeve, if he 
 ever had any, must have been formed after his marriage, as a reference to 
 dates will show, so that the suppositious scandal, as it has been transmitted 
 to us, conveys its own refutation. 
 
 R. BELL, Life of Dryden, i. 91. Ed. 1854. 
 
 8 Two Kinjs of Brentford, fuppofed to be the two Brothers, 
 the King and the Duke. [See note at p. 90.] . . Key 1704. 
 
ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 
 
 Enter BAYES, JOHNSON and SMITH. 
 
 35 
 
 BAYES. Come, come in, Gentlemen. Y'are very 
 welcome Mr. a Ha' you your Part ready? 
 
 i Play. Yes, Sir. 
 
 BAYES. But do you underfland the true humour of it? 
 
 i Play. I, Sir, pretty well. 
 
 BAYES. And Amarillis, how does me do? Does 
 not her Armor become her? 
 
 3 Play. O, admirably ! 
 
 BAYES. I'l tell you, now, a pretty conceipt. What 
 do you think I'l make 'em call her anon, in this Play ? 
 
 SMI. What, I pray ? 
 
 BAYES. Why I'l make "em call her Armarillis, be- 
 caufe of her Armor : ha, ha, ha. 
 
 JOHNS. That will be very well, indeed. 
 
 BAYES, I, it's a pretty little rogue ; fhe is my Mif- 
 trefs. 1 I knew her face would fet off Armor extreamly: 
 and, to tell you true, I writ that Part only for her. 
 Well, Gentlemen, I dare be bold to fay, without vanity, 
 I'l mew you fomething, here, that's very ridiculous, 
 I gad. [Exeunt Players. 
 
 JOHNS. Sir, that we do not doubt of. 
 
 BAYES. Pray, Sir, let's fit down. Look you, Sir, the 
 chief hindge of this Play, upon which the whole Plot 
 moves and turns, and that caufes the variety of all the 
 feveral accidents, which, you know, are the thing in 
 Nature that make up the grand refinement of a Play, 
 is, that I fuppofe two Kings 2 to be of the fame place : 
 as, for example, at Brentford; for I love to write 
 familiarly. Now the people having the fame relations 
 to 'em both, the fame affections, the fame duty, the 
 fame obedience, and all that ; are divided among 
 themfelves in point of devoir and intereft, how to be- 
 have themfelves equally between 'em : thefe Kings 
 differing fometimes in particular ; though, in the main, 
 they agree. (I know not whether I make my felf 
 well underftood.) 
 
36 BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO THE REHEARSAL. 
 
 Ctntintiedjtoni pagt 3 J. 
 
 I. To give the reader an account of the writer of this farce. 
 
 a. The motives which induced him to compose it. 
 
 longer now, said he ; but if you desire any furthor direction 
 HI tins matter, meet me here to-morrow night, and I will discourse more par- 
 ticularK heads, and then take my leave of you : wishing you 
 
 good success with your preface, and that your KEY may prove a GOLDI ; 
 
 Now, kind reader, having received all the instructions I could gain from my 
 resolute spark ml on my own logs, and turn 
 
 Prcfftcer, tho' against my will. And thus I set out, 
 
 1. To tell thce what all persons, who are anything acquainted with the 
 I'a^r.know already: ~'i~. That this farce was wrote by the most noble ' 
 
 R, late Duke of BUCKINGHAM, &c. apeis '--.d of natural 
 
 wit and ingenuity, and of e \ 'mm!, particularly in matters "I this 
 
 nature : ! nius was unproved l>ya liberal education, and the con- 
 
 u of the great< .a his time; and all these cultivated and 
 
 improved by study and travel. 
 
 By the former, he became well acquainted with the writings of the most 
 celebrated I'." -is of the late aye ; vi/. Sh.ikespear. Beaumont, and Johnson, (the 
 last of whom he knew personally, behiL; tlm ; : when he died) 'as also 
 
 with the famous company of actors at lilac k r'ryars. \\hom lie always admired. 
 
 He was likewise very intimate with the p<"ts n| hi. tiup- : as Sir John 
 Denham, Sir John Stirklin.^, tlie Lord Falkland, Mr. Sidney < lodolphin, (a 
 near relation to the Lord Hit'li Tr< : i .'.land that now is, the glory 
 
 of that ancient family) Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cowley ; on the last of whom 
 he bestowed a genteel Annuity during his life, and a noble monument in West- 
 minster-Abbey after his de< 
 
 By travel he had the opportunity of observing the decorum of foreign 
 theatres ; especially the Freneh, under the regulation of Monsieur Corneille, 
 before it was so far Italianated, and over-run with opera am farce, as now 
 it is ; and before the venom thereof had crossed the narrow seas, and poi- 
 soned the English stage ; We being naturally prone to imitate the French in 
 their fashions, manners, and customs, let them be never so vicious, fantastick, 
 or ridiculous. 
 
 By what has been said on this head, I hope thou art fully satisfied who 
 was the author of this piece, which the learned and judicious Dr. Burnet 
 (Now Bishop of Sarum) calls 'a correction,' and 'an unmerciful exposing ;' 
 and I believe thou hast as little cause to doubt of his being able to perform it. 
 
 Had this great person been endued with constancy and steadiness of mind, 
 equal to his other abilities both natural and acquired, he had been the most 
 complete gentleman in his time. 
 
 I shall proceed to shew, 
 
 2. The motives which induced him to undertake it. 
 
 The civil war silenced the stage for almost twenty years, tho' not near so 
 lewd then, as it is since grown ; and it had been happy for England, if this 
 had been the worst effect of that war. The many changes of government, 
 that succeeded the dissolution of the ancient constitution, made the people 
 very uneasy, and unanimously desirous of its restitution ; which was effected 
 by a free Parliament, in the year 1660. 
 
 This sudden revolution, which is best known by the name of THE RESTO- 
 RATION, brought with it many ill customs, from the several countries, to which 
 th: King and the cavalicrswcre retired, during their exile, which proved very 
 pernicious to our English constitution, by corrupting our morals ; and to 
 which the reviving the stage, and bringing women on't, and encouraging .u..l 
 app'auding the many lewd, senseless, and unnatural plays, that ensued upon 
 this great change, did very much contribute. 
 
 * This is a mistake. The Duke of Buckingham -i-as born Jan. 30, 1627. 
 tu Johnson died Aug. 6, 1637. Bp. Percy. 
 
 Continued at pint 40. 
 
ACT. I. THE REHEARSAL. 37 
 
 JOHNS. I did not obferve you, Sir : pray fay that 
 again. 
 
 BAYES. Why, look you, Sir, (nay, I befeech you, be 
 a little curious in taking notice of this, or elfe you'l 
 never underftand my notion of the thing) the people 
 being embarrafl by their equal tyes to both, and the 
 Soveraigns concern'd in a reciprocal regard, as well to 
 their own intereft, as the good of the people ; may 
 
 make a certain kind of a you underfland me 
 
 upon which, there does arife feveral difputes, 
 
 turmoils, heart-burnings, and all that In fine, you'l 
 
 apprehend it better when you fee it. 
 
 [Exit, to call the Players. 
 
 SMI. I find the Author will be very much oblig'd 
 to the Players, if they can make any fence of this. 
 
 Enter BAYES. 
 
 BAYES. Now, Gentlemen, I would fain ask your 
 opinion of one thing. I have made a Prologue and 
 an Epilogue, which may both ferve for either : (do 
 you mark?) nay, they may both ferve too, I gad, for 
 any other Play as well as this. 
 
 SMI. Very well. That's, indeed, Artificial. 
 
 BAYES. And I would fain ask your judgements, 
 now, which of them would do bell for the Prologue ? 
 For, you mufl know, there is, in nature, but two ways 
 of making very good Prologues. The one is by civility, 
 
 by infinuation, good language, and all that, to a 
 
 in a manner, fleal your plaudit from the courtefie 
 
 of the Auditors : the other, by making tife of fome 
 certain perfonal things, which may keep a hank upon 
 fuch cenfuring perfons, as cannot otherways, A gad, 
 in nature, be hindred from being too free, with their 
 tongues. To which end, my firft Prologue is, that I 
 come out in a long black Veil, and a great huge 
 Hang-man behind me, with a Furr'd-cap, and his 
 Sword drawn ; and there tell 'em plainly, That if, out 
 of good nature, they will not like my Play, why I gad, 
 
38 ILL USTRA TIONS. 6r*. 
 
 ' 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. Bay a, &c. . . . . Key 1704. 
 
 The text of these papers is prefixed to the Play It runs thus. 
 Connexion of the Indian I-'.mperour, to the Indian Queen. 
 
 Till: 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 ftory) lately dead. 
 
 So that you are to imagine about Twenty years elapfed fmcc 
 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 Cortcz, who, joyning with the 
 Ta.\allan-Indians, the invctrate Enemies of Mo nUzuma, wholly 
 Subverted that flourifhing Empire ; the Conquest of which, is 
 the Subject of this Dramatique Poem. 
 
 1 have neither wholly followed the ftory nor varied from it; 
 and, as near as I could, have traced the Native fimplicity 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 firft 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, 
 
 2 " 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 I74- 
 
 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 mall cut my head oft. 
 Whereupon they all clapping a 
 
 SMI. But, fuppofe they do not. 
 
 BAYES. 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 cenfure 
 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 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 1 (a) He contracted with the King's Company of Aclors, 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 (how that the number of plays WE.S three a year, for 
 which Dryden received li share in the King's Company, equa] 
 to about ,300 or 400 a year. 
 
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 clefpife 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 fure 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 difmgag'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 pardllo : I'm fure no 
 body has hit upon it yet. For here, Sir, I make my 
 Prologue to be Dialogue : and as, in my firft, 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 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 t Almah. So, two kind Turtles, when a florm 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 fit alone, 
 And Cooe, and hearken to each others moan. 
 
 J. DRYDEN. The Conquejl of Granada. Part ir., Act i. Sc. 
 
 il, p. 82. Ed. 1672. 
 
 'Song in Dialogue. 
 
 Evening. I am an Evening dark as Night, 
 
 ]&c\i-with-the- Lantern bring a Light. 
 Jack. Whither, whither, whither 1 [Within. 
 
 Evening. Hither, hither, hither. 
 
 Jack. Thou art fome pratling Eccho, of my making. 
 Evening. Thou art a Foolijfi Fire, by thy miflaking* 
 I am the Evening that creates thee. 
 
 Enter^z^ 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 hangd, before they'l dare affront an Author, 
 that has 'em at that lock. 
 
 BAYES. I have made, too, one of the moll 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 unfinifh'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 profeflo. Come 
 out, Thunder and Lightning. 
 
 * 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 bravefl Heftor of the Skie. 
 Light. And I, fair Helen, that made Hcftor die. 
 
44 ILL US TRA TfONS. -.-. 
 
 Jack. My Lantern and my Candle waits thce. 
 Evening. 7 '//<>/< J'lajolets that we heard play, 
 
 Are Reapers who hare lojl their way ; 
 The\ 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 1 1 f cratch them with Briars and Thijlles : 
 when the Flajolets cry, 
 
 we are a-dry ; 
 Pond-water Jfiall wet their whiflles. 
 
 {Exeunt Evening, Winds, 6- Jack. 
 
 SIR R. STAFYLTON. The Slighted Maid. Act iii., pp. 48, 49- 
 
 Ed. 1663. 
 
 1 Abraham Ivory had formerly been a confiderable Aftor of 
 Womens Parts ; but afterwards stupify'd himfelf fo far, with 
 drinking flrong Waters, that, before the firft Acting of this 
 Farce, he was fit for nothing, but to go of Errands ; for 
 which, and meeV Charity, the Company allow'd him a Weekly 
 Sallary Key 1704. 
 
ACT. T. THE REHEARSAL. 45 
 
 77/7*;*. I flrike men down. 
 
 Light, I fire the Town. 
 
 77//*;/. 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 flam 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 flafh 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 firjl 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. [Exeunt. 
 
 Finis Actus primi. 
 
46 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. 
 
 1 (a) Drake Sftt. Draw up our Men ; and in low Whifpers 
 give our Orders out. 
 
 [SIR W. D'AVENANT.] Play-HouJetobe Lett, p. 100. 
 
 (b) 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 infcrt (lERARU LANGBAINE'S defcription of it. 
 
 Play-Houfe to be Let. I know not under what Species to place 
 this Play, it confiding of feveral Pieces of different Kinds hand- 
 fomely tackt together, feveral of which the Author writ in the 
 times of Oliver, and were adled feparately by ftealth; as the 
 Hiftory of Sr Francis Drake expreft by Inftrumental, and Vocal 
 Mufick, and by Art of Perfpedlive in Scenes, &>c. The Cruelty 
 of the Spaniards in Peru. Thefe two Pieces were firfl printed 
 in quarto. They make the third and fourth Adls of this Play. 
 The fecond Act confifls 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 A<51 confifts of Tragedie travsstit, 
 or the Actions of Cafar Antony and Cleopatra in Verfe Bur- 
 lefque. This Farce I have feen adled at the Theatre in Dorfet- 
 garden fome Years ago, at the end of that excellent Tragedy of 
 Pompey, tranflated by the incomparable Pen of the much 
 admired Orimla. pp. 109-110. Ed. 1691. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY. KEYS TO 'THE REHEARSAL.' 
 Continued Jrom page 36. 
 
 Then appear' d such plays as these : THK SIEGE OP RHODES, Part I. acted 
 at the Cock pit, before the Restoration ; THE PLAY-HOUSE TO BE LETT ; THE 
 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-fit, during the acting it ; some 
 pi 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 ihe 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 have not been informed. 
 J at faft 48 
 
ACT. H. SC. I. THE REHEARSAL. 47 
 
 ACTUS II. SC^NA I. 
 BAYES, JOHNSON and SMITH. 
 
 BAYES. U*^j^||Ovv, Sir, becaufe I'l do nothing 
 here that ever was done be- 
 fore [Spits. 
 
 SMI. A very notable defign, 
 for a Play, indeed. 
 BAYES. Inflead 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. 
 
 U/h. And, by your gait and fafhion, I fhould almoft 
 fufpecSl 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-Ufher, 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 Bllll.loc.l; \riIV. KKYS TO TIIK REHEARSAL. 
 
 Cone ludni from Page 46. 
 
 After this, our author endeavoured by writing to expose the follies of these 
 
 litoned plays in their proper colours, and to set them in so clear a 
 
 light, that the people might be able to discover what tr.ish it was, of which 
 
 they wi he plainly hints in the prologue : and so set himself lo 
 
 the composing of this farce. 
 
 When Ins ( Irace began it, I could never learn, nor is it very material. 
 
 Thus much we may rcrtainly 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 
 
 i .ill tilings in re.idiuess for its acting, before the great plague 
 
 1665 ; and that then prevented it. 
 
 lint wh.it was so ready for the stage, and so near being acted at the 
 breaking out of that terrible sickness, w.is very different from what you have 
 since seen in print. In that he called his poet BILBOA ; by which name, the 
 nerally understood Sin KODKKT HOWARD to be the Person pointed 
 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, 
 i imM nut 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 i' 71. 
 
 During this interval, many great Playi came forth, writ in heroick rhyme ; 
 and, on the death of Sir \Vu.i.i.\M D'AVENAN r, 1669, MR. DKVDKN, a new 
 laiireat appeared on the staj;et, much admired, and highly applauded : which 
 moved the Duke to change the name of his poet from HII.BOA to BAYES, 
 whose works you will find often mentioned in the following Ki:v. 
 
 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 1 have committed 
 against yourself, and all judicious persons who shall peruse this poor address. 
 
 I have nothing to say in my own defence : 1 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. 1 
 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 h 
 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, isuch as 
 ridicule Dryden's The Assignation, or 1-oye in a Nunnery, produced in 
 1672) arc, 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 u<itk 
 our noble author, that he dedicated to him his Duel of the Staft, Lontl. 
 1688, 8zo. Bp. Percy. 
 
 + Mr. Dryden became Foet-laureat upon the Death of Sir William. Domi- 
 nant ; but he had appeared as a Dramatic Writer before. Bp. Percy. 
 
ACT. ii. sc. r. THE REHEARSAL. 49 
 
 Phys. Sir, to conclude, 
 
 SMI. What, before he begins ? 
 
 BAYES. No, Sir; you mufl 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 florins which, like impregnant 
 Clouds, do hover o'er our heads, (when they once are 
 gralp'd but by the eye of reafon) melt into fruitful 
 fhowers of blefiings on the people. 
 
 BAYES. Pray mark that Allegory. Is not that 
 good ? 
 
 JOHNS. Yes ; that grafping of a florm with the 
 eye is admirable. 
 
 Phys. But yet fome rumours great are flirring ; 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. 
 
 UJti. Alone, do you fay ? 
 
 Phys. No ; attended with the noble [ Whifpers. 
 
 UJh. Who, he in gray ? 
 
 Phys. Yes ; and at the head of [ Whifpers. 
 
 BAYES. Pray mark. 
 
 UJh. 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. 
 
 U/h. Secondly, they [ Whifpers. 
 
 BAYES. He's at it ftill. 
 UJh. Thirdly, and laflly, both he, and they 
 
 f Whifpers. 
 
5 o ILL USTRA T10NS, 
 
 1 Mr William Winterjhull was a mod Excellent, Judicious 
 After : and the beft Inftruclor of others : He dy d in July, 
 1679 A 
 
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 J^ohn Suckling, Sir? 
 
 BAYES. By gad, I am a better Poet than he. 
 
 SMI. Well, Sir ; but pray why all this whifpering ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, (belides 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 ?. 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 fhalt not fee one Scene here, that either 
 properly ought to come in, or is like any thing thou 
 canft imagine has ever been the practice of the World. 
 And then, when he comes to what he calls good lan- 
 guage, it is, as I told thee, very fantaftical, moft 
 abominably dull, and not one word to the purpofe. 
 
 SMI. It does iurprife 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, d- 
 
ACT. ii. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 53 
 
 SC^NA II. 
 
 Enter the two Kings, hand in hand. 
 
 B AYES - [KjyS^ljHefe are the two Kings of Brent- 
 ford ; take notice of their ftile : 
 'twas never yet upon the Stage ; 
 but, if you like it, I could make 
 a fhift, perhaps, to fhew 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 fing 
 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 may. 
 
 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 
 
 Hand ; 
 
 And, like true brothers, walk ftill hand in 
 hand. [Exeunt Reges. 
 
 JOHNS. This is a very Majeftick Scene indeed. 
 
 BAYES. Ay, 'tis a crufl, a lafling crufl for your Rogue 
 Critiques, I gad : I would fain fee the proudefl of 'em 
 all but dare to nibble at this ; I gad, if they do, this mail 
 rub their gums for 'em, I promife you. It was I, you 
 mud 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 acl it : ha, ha, ha. 
 
54 // /, USTRA TIONS, &>e. 
 
 1 The A'j 1704 refers Prince Pretty-man's falling afleep in 
 making love, to the play entitled '/'/it- /,<y/ Lady [by Sir \V. 
 BKRKF.I.KYJ London, fol. 1639. In the lifth edition of The 
 Kt-hearfal, however there is the following addition to the text here. 
 
 So ; now Prince Pn'ttyman comes in, falls afleep, 
 making Love to his Miflrefs, 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 Qtterer pro folo 
 querer (To Love only for Love Sake) : a Dramatiek romance, 
 written in Spanifh by Don ANTONIO HURTADU DE MI-.NDO/A in 
 1623, and paraphrafecl in Englifh, in 1654, by Sir R. FANSII \\vi-, 
 ' during his Confinement to Tankerjly Park in York-Jhire, by 
 Oliver, after the Battail of Worccfter, in which he was taken 
 Prifoner, ferving His Majefty (whom God preferve) as Secretary 
 of State. 1 Printed London 1671. 410. 
 
 Bp. Percy thinks the paffage had in view is this, in Act i. p. 20. 
 
 Felisbravo, the young King of Perfia, travelling in fearch of 
 
 Zelidaura, Queen of Tartaria(whom, it feems, he had never feen) 
 
 rrtiivs into a wood to flmn the noon-tide heat, and taking out 
 
 his miftress's piclure, thus rants. 
 
 Fel. \tjleep invade me ftrongly, That may fever 
 
 My life fome minutes from me, my love never. 
 
 But 'tis impojfible \ojleep (we know) 
 
 Extended on the Rack : If that be fo, 
 
 Takes out the Pitlure. 
 
 Dumb Larum, come thou forth : Eloquent Mute, 
 
 For whom high Heav'n and Earth commence a Suit : 
 
 Of Angel-woman, fair Hermaphrodite ! 
 
 The Moon's txtingttiflur ! the Moon-days night ! 
 
 How could fo fmall a Sphear hold fo much day ? 
 
 deep ! now, now, thou conquer'ft me -But day: 
 That/rtr/ thou conquer'Jl, I'l not own for mine. 
 Temped I feek, not calm : If the days thine, 
 Thou quell'd 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 Deaths arreft) 
 
 Not as a Lover, but a MORTAL 
 
 He falls ajlecp -with the Pifiure in his hand. 
 Rif. He's fain a fleep ; fo foon ? What frailty is ? 
 More like a Husband, then a Lover, this. 
 If Lorers take fuch fleeps, what (hall I take, 
 'Whom /V,; r .r of Loi't, nor Honour's Trumpets, 'wake? 
 
 Rifaloro falls aflcef. 
 
ACT. n. sc. in. THE REHEARSAL. 55 
 
 SMI. That's impoffible. 
 
 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. John- 
 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 remembe^ 
 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, jufl 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 beft things in Chriflendom. I'l tell you, 
 Mr. Jfohnfon, 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 Nurfery, and mump your proud Players, 
 I gad. ; 
 
 SC^NA III. 
 
 Enter Prince Pretty-man. 
 
 ft- ran g e a captive am I grown 
 
 of late ! 
 Shall I accufe my Love, or blame 
 
 my Fate ? 
 My Love, I cannot ; that is too 
 
 Divine : 
 And againft Fate what mortal dares repine ? 
 
 Enter Cloris. 
 But here me comes. 
 Sure 'tis fome blazing Comet, is it not ? [Lyes down. 
 
56 //. /. USTRA TIONS, &<:. 
 
 1 See note on p. 54. 
 
 a This rule is moft exactly obferved in Dryden's Indian Emperor, 
 Adi iv. Scene iv. Upon a fudden and unexpected miffortune, 
 Almeria thus expreffes her furprife and concern. 
 
 Aim. All hopes of fafcty and of love are gone: 
 As when fome dreadful Thunder-clap is nigh, 
 The winged Fire (hoots fwiftly through the Skic, 
 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 lefs to do: 
 
 J. DKYDKN. The Indian Enipci-our, p. 50. Ed. 1667. 
 
 Bp. Peny. 
 
 3 Boabdel to Alma/tide. 
 As fome fair tulip, by a ftorm opprefl, 
 Shrinks up, and folds its filken arms to reft ; 
 And, bending to the blaft, all pale and dead, 
 Hears from within, the wind fing round its head : 
 So, fhrowded up your beauty difappears ; 
 Unvail my Love ; and lay afide your fears. 
 
 JoilNDRYDEN. The Conquejl of Granada, Parti. A (51 v. p. 6 1. 
 
 Ed. 167^. 
 
ACT. ir. sc. ill. 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 \Jleeps. 
 
 BAYES. Does not that, now, furprife you, to fall afleep 
 
 juft in the nick? His fpirits exhale with the heat of 
 
 his paffion, and all that, and fwop falls afleep, as you 
 
 fee. Now, here, fhe muftmake zfimile. 
 
 SMI. Where's the neceflity of that, Mr. Bayesl 
 BAYES. Becaufe fhe's furpris'd. 2 That's a general 
 Rule : you muft ever make a fimile when you are fur- 
 pris'd ; 'tis the new way of writing. 
 
 3 Claris. As fome tall Pine, which we, on ^Etna, find 
 T'have flood the rage of many a boyft'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, fhrowded 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 j for I muft confefs, when I writ it, I 
 wept my felf. 
 
 SMI. No, truly, Sir, my fpirits are almoft exhal'd too, 
 and I am likelier to fall afleep. 
 
 Prince Pretty-manyfor/j up, and fays 
 Pret. It is refolv'd. [Exit. 
 
 SMI. Mr. Hayes, may one be fo bold as to ask you 
 a queftion, 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 muft confefs, that queftion is well 
 enough ask'd, for one that is not acquainted with this 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
ACT. ir. sc. iv. THE REHEARSAL. 59 
 
 new way of writing. But you mufl know, Sir, that, 
 to out-do all my fellow-Writers, whereas they keep 
 their Intrigo fecret till the very laft 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. 
 
 SCHEMA IV. 
 
 Enter Gentleman- UJIier and Phyfician. 
 
 jjOme, Sir ; let's ftate the matter of 
 fact, 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 jufl fo, I gad, always. 
 UJh. The grand queftion is, whether they heard us 
 \vhifper ? which I divide thus : into when they heard, 
 what they heard, and whether they heard or no. 
 JOHNS. Moft admirably divided, I fwear. 
 UJJi. As to the when ; you fay jufl 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 laft 
 queftion, Videlicet, whether they heard or no ? 
 SMI. This is a very wife Scene, Mr. Bayes. 
 
60 ILLUSTRATIONS, &v. 
 
 1 Such cafy Turns of State are frequent in our Modern Plays ; 
 where we fee Princes Dethron'd and Governments Chang'd, 
 by very feeble Means, and on flight Occafions : Particularly, 
 in Miirrittgc-a-la-Mode ; 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 
 /,(<>// it/its bears to our Prince Pretty-Man, being fometimes a 
 King's Son, fometimes a Shepherd's ; and not to queftion how 
 . \lmaltltea 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 t he- 
 Right Heir plac'd on the Throne ; as it is thus related by the 
 laid 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 fnatching 
 A Sword from one, his back againft the Scaffold, 
 P>ravely 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 6l. 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 fay ? ' . . . Key 1 704. 
 
 * P- 7i- 
 
 2 (a) Ormafdes. I know not what to fa}', nor what to 
 
 think ! 
 I know not when I fleep, or when I wake. 
 
 Sir \V. KILLIGREW. Ormajdes, or Love and Friendjkip. 
 Ac"l v. p. 77. [Licenfed 22 Aug. 1664]. Ed. 1665. 
 
 (V) Pandora, My doubts and fears, my reafon does 
 
 difmay, 
 I know not what to do nor what to fay ; 
 
 Sir W. Kiu.iGRiiW. Pandora, or The Converts, 
 Acl v. p. 92. Ed. 1665. 
 
*CT. n. sc. iv. THE REHEARSAL. 61 
 
 BAYES. Yes ; you have it right : they are both Poli- 
 titians. I writ this Scene for a pattern, to Ihew the 
 world how men fhould 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. 
 UJJi. 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 fhall take that chair. 
 They draw their Swords, and fit down in 
 the two great chairs iipon 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. 
 
 [77/i? Ufurpers march out flouri/hing their fwords. 
 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 t_Exit. 
 
 SMI. But pray, Sir, how came they to depofe the 
 Kings fo eafily ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, you muft 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 mew you, Sir, it was not done 
 
<> -' ILL USTRA 7raVS, 
 
ACT. it. 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 ftruggle to be 
 after the bufmefs is done ? 
 
 BAYES. Aye. 
 
 SMI. O, I conceive you : that is very natural. 
 
 V. 
 
 Enter four men at one door, and four at another, with 
 their fwords draivn. 
 
 I Soldier. |^5?SiTand. Who goes there ? 
 2 Sol. A friend. 
 
 1 Sol. What friend ? 
 
 2 Sol. A friend to the Houfe. 
 i Sol. Fall on. 
 
 \They all kill one another. Mufick Jlr ikes. 
 
 BAYES. Hold, hold. [To the Mufick. It ceafeth. 
 
 Now here's an odd fnrpnfe : all thefe dead men you 
 (hall fee rife up prefently, at a certain Note that I have 
 made, in Effautflat, 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 Tempeft, I gad. 
 
 i Sol. Why, Sir, 'tis impoffible to do any thing in 
 time, to this Tune. 
 
 BAYES. O Lord, O Lord ! impoflible ? 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, 
 
64 l/.l.lWKAT/0.\\s, t. 
 
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 Effmit flat. Strike up Mufick. 
 
 Now. 
 
 As he rifes up haflily, 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 Effautflat. 
 
 BAYES. A plague of this damn'd Stage, with your 
 nails, and your tenter-hooks, that a man cannot come 
 to teach you to A<51, but he muft 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* 
 
66 ILL USTRA TIONS, S*. 
 
 1 Failer and Bibber his Taylor in The Wild Gallant. A'ejr, 
 1704. 
 
ACT. in. sc. i. THE REHEARSAL. 67 
 
 ACTUS III. SCJ5NA I. 
 
 BAVES with a papyr on his Nofe, and the two Gentlemen. 
 
 B AYES - JlTVIiiSPHlP w Sir, this I d> becaufe my 
 fancie in this Play is to end 
 every Act 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 neceffary to the Plot : I grant 
 it ; what then ? I meant it fo. But then it's as full 
 of Drollery as ever it can hold : 'tis like an Orange 
 (luck with Cloves, as for conceipt. Come, where are 
 you ? This Scene will make you die with laughing, 
 if it be well acted : it is a Scene of fheer 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 (hall fee 'em come in upon one another 
 fnip fnap, hit for hit, as faft as can be. Firft one 
 fpeaks, then prefently t'other'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 dam ? 
 
 JOHNS. Mean ? why, he never meant any thing in's 
 life : what doft 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, Aft i. p. n. Ed. 1669. 
 
 *Failer. 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 Failer, 
 
 And throw him to the Jaylour ; 
 
 And there let him lie 
 
 Till he has paid his Taylor. 
 
 Idem, Adi ii. Sc. ii. p, 15. 
 
ACT. in. sc. I. 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 them 
 needs marry? If nine Taylors make but one man j 
 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 flian't want Journey- 
 men to help me, I warrant you. 
 
 BAYES. Good again. 
 
 Pret. I am afraid thy Journey-men, though, Tom, 
 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 trufted you for your Coronation-fuit. 
 
 BAYES. Very good, i'faith. 
 
 Pret. Why, the times then liv'd upon truft ; 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. 2 
 
 BAYES. Admirable, before gad. 
 
 Pret. Well, Tom, I hope fhortly I fhall have 
 another coyn for thee ; for now the Wars come on, I 
 fhall grow to be a man of mettal. 
 
7 o //- L USTRA TIONS, 
 
 1 Ay, 'tis pretty well ; but he does not Top his Part 
 A great Word with Mr. Edward Howard. . . . Key 1704. 
 
 1 Seep. 6a 
 
 1 M. Edward ffmvartfs Words. . . ^1704. Serf. 28. 
 
ACT. ill. 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.' 
 
 Thim. That's the way to be ftamp'd yourfelf, Sir. 
 I mall 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 fnap, 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 Hands flill. 
 
 BAYES. Plot ftand flill ! 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 Matter 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 underttand us, they can never conceive 
 you, Sir, the excellencie of thefe things. 
 
 JOHNS. 'Tis a fad fate, I muft confefs : but you 
 write on ttill ? 
 
 BAYES. Write on ? I gad, I warrant you. 'Tis not 
 their talk fhall flop 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? 2 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, Ghotts 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, 
 
72 ILL US TRA TIONS, &>c. 
 
 1 Alberto. Curtius, I've fomething to deliver to your 
 Ear. 
 
 Curtius. Any thing from Alberto is welcom. 
 
 Mis. A. BtHN. The Amorous Prince. Act iii. Sc. ii. p. 39 
 
 Ed. 1671. 
 
ACT. ill. 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. J^ohnfon, 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 moft 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^NA II. 
 Enter the two Ufurpers, hand in hand. 
 
 |Ut what's become of Volfcius 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 Illuflrious Hero wrung. 
 
 BAYES. Is not that Majeftical? 
 SMI. Yes, but who a Devil is that Volfciust 
 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 Volfcius the Prince. 
 U/h. His news is welcome, whatfoe'er it be. 
 
 SMI. How, Sir, do you mean that? whether it be 
 good or bad ? 
 
74 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
ACT. in. sc. ii. THE REHEARSAL. 75 
 
 BAYES. Nay, pray, Sir, have a little patience : God- 
 fookers, you'l fpoil all my. Play. Why, Sir, 'tis impoffi- 
 ble to anfwer every impertinent queftion 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 me did attempt 
 Upon her precious life ; but, by the care 
 Of flanders-by, prevented was. 
 
 SMI. 'Sheart, what fluff's here ! 
 
 Cor. At laft, 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Uffi. Dead ! is that poffible ? Dead ! 
 
 Phys. O ye Gods ! [ Exeunt. 
 
 BAYES. There's a fmart expreffion of a paffion ; O 
 ye Gods ! That's one of my bold ftrokes, a gad. 
 
 SMI. Yes ; but who is the fair perfon that's dead ? 
 
 BAYES. That you fhall 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 fhe'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 fnout 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. 
 
76 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 *Dedo. Now you (hall tell me, who play'd at Card; 
 with you ? 
 
 Pyramena. None but my Lord Iberio and I plai'd. 
 
 Dec. Who waited ? 
 
 Py. No body. 
 
 Dec. No Page ? 
 
 Py. No Page. 
 
 -Ar. 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. The Slighted Maid. Ad 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. Pifli, there you are out ; to all future end ? 
 No, no ; to all future end ; you mufl 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 Fifherman. 
 
 Ama. Villain, what Monfter did corrupt thy mind 
 T'attaque the noblefl foul of humane kind ? 
 Tell me who fet thee on. 
 
 Fifli. Prince Pretty-man. 
 
 Ama. To kill whom ? 
 
 Fi/h. Prince Pretty-man. 
 
 Ama. What, did Prince Pretty-man hire you to kill 
 Prince Pretty-man ? 
 
 FiJJi. No; Prince Volfdus. 
 
 Ama. To kill whom? 
 
 FiJJi. Prince Volfdus. 
 
 Ama. What, did Prince Volfdus hire you to kill 
 Prince Volfdus^ 
 
 Fijli. 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 j 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 
 
78 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-manT 
 
 Phoo, pox ! you are come too late, Sir : now you may 
 go out again, if you pleafe. I vow to gad Mr. a 
 
 I 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 mufl 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 keep him from me? 
 Although a Fifherman, 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. 
 Hayes, what's the meaning of this Scene ? 
 
 BAYES. O, cry you mercie, Sir : I purtefl I had for- 
 got to tell you. Why, Sir, you mufl 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 queflion ? Taken 
 Prifoner ! Godfookers, he has put the Plot quite out 
 of my head, with this damn'd queflion. 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 
 
8o //./.1'S7-A'.-I7VOA'S, 
 
ACT. in. sc. n. THE REHEARSAL. 81 
 
 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 
 Fiflierman, upon fufpicion, was feiz'd ; and thereupon 
 the Prince grew angry. 
 
 SMI. So, fo ; now 'tis very plain. 
 
 JOHNS. But, Mr. Bayes, is not that fome difparage- 
 ment to a Prince, to pafs for a Fifliermans Son? 
 Have a care of that, I pray. 
 
 BAYES. No, no, no ; not at all ; for 'tis but for a 
 while: I fhall fetch him off again, prefently, you mail fee 
 Enter Pretty-man and Thimble. 
 
 Prct. By all the Gods, I'l fet the world on fire 
 
 Rather than let 'em ravifh hence my Sire. 
 Thim. 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 fhe writ my name, flie 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 Fifliermans Son ? 
 
 BAYES. Phoo ! that is not becaufe he has a mind 
 to be his Son, but for fear he fhould 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, <5rr. 
 
 In ridicule of Act iv. Sc. i. of Englijh Monfuur, by the 
 Hon. J. HOWARD, of which this is a portion. 
 
 Enter Comely in a Riding Garb, with his fervant. 
 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 ftrong 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. 
 
 2 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 fhall hear a Song called my fare- 
 well to London and women, boy fing the Song. 
 Of which song the third and laft ftanza runs thus : 
 Therefore this danger to prevent 
 
 And ftill to keep my hearts content : 
 'Into the country I'le with fpeed, 
 
 With Hounds and Hawks my fancy feed I 
 Both fafer pleafures to purfue, 
 
 Than flaying to converfe with you. 
 
AI.T. in. sc. ii. THE REHEARSAL 83 
 
 BAYES. Yes, he gave out fo ; 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 fhall 
 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 lead 
 Have held the honour of your company. 
 
 BAYES. Held the honour of your Company ! prettily 
 exprefl ! Held the honour of your company ! God- 
 fookers,thefe fellows will never take notice of any thing. 
 
 JOHNS. I affure 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 flill 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 ? (lay. 
 
 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. 
 
84 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 Comely fees F.lslia, a Country lafs, and falls fuddenly 
 in love with lu-r. 
 
 * Comely ____ fet up my Horfes. What fudden 
 fate hath changtt 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. En S UJh Monfuur, Aft iv Sc^L .- 
 
 'And what's this maid's name ? 
 
 Idem, Act iv. Sc. i. p. 4- Ed. 1674. 
 
 *MuJlapha. I bring the Morning pidur'd in a Cloud. ^ 
 Sir W D'AvENANT, Siege of Rhodes. P. I. 'The Second .Entry.' 
 
 p. 10. Ld. 1656. 
 
 4 Mr. Comely in love ! 
 
 Monfteur, Act iv. Sc. ii. p. 45. Ed. 1674. 
 
 * ''Lave and Honour, Written by W. DAVENANT Knight. 
 I'refented by His Majefties Servants at the Black Fryers* 
 London, 1649, 410. 
 
tiCT. in. sc. n. 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 (hall 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 befl 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 Veflments high-born beauty fhrowd? 
 3 Thou bring'ft the Morning pi6lur'd in a Cloud? 
 
 BAYES. The Morning piclur'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 Volfcius in love ? Ha, 
 ha, ha. \Exeunt laughing. 
 
 SMI. Sure, Mr. Bayes, 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 mall fee a combat betwixt 
 Love and Honour. An ancient Author has made a 
 whole Play on't s ; but I have difpatch'd it all in this 
 Scene. 
 
86 ILLUSTRATIONS, &c. 
 
 1 May this flip lie accepted as evidence that this Act flood 
 fecond in the original Play ? 
 
 1 (a) Fi'lifbraro. LOVE, and HONOUR, pull two ways ; 
 
 And I fland doubtful which to take : 
 To Arabia, Honour fays, 
 
 Love fays no ; thy flay here make. 
 Sir R. FANSHAWE'S tranflation of Qucrer pro folo Querct. 
 Act iii. p. 140. Ed. 1671. 
 
 (l>) Alphonfo. But Honour fays not fo. 
 
 Siege of Rhodes, Part I. p. 19. 
 
 (c) Ent. Palladius/0/?/y reading 2. letters. 
 Pall. I fland betwixt two minds! what's beft to doe ? 
 This bids me flay ; This fpurs me on to goe. 
 Once more let our impartiall eyes perufe 
 Both t'one and t'other : Both may not prevaile. 
 My Lord, 
 
 PRize not your honour fo much as to difprize her that ho- 
 nours you, in choofing rather to meet Death in the field, 
 then Ptilchrdla in her defires. Give my affection leave once 
 more to diffwade you from trying Conquefl with fo unequal! a 
 Foe : Or if a Combate muft 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, confirme me either the happieft of all Ladies, or 
 make me the moft unfortunate of all women. PULCHRELLA. 
 A Charme too flrong for Honour to reprefle. 
 
 Mus. A heart too poore for Honour to poffeffe. 
 
 Pall. Honour muft (loop to Vows. But what faies 
 this ? \Reads the other Letter. 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 * I "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 faithfull fervant, who defires not to 
 buy you fafety with the hazard of your Reputation. Goe on with 
 courage, and know, Panthea fhall partake with you in either for- 
 tune : If conquer'd, my heart fhall be your Monument, to pre- 
 ferve and glorifie your honour'd afhes ; If a Conqueror, my tongue 
 fhall be your Herault to proclaime you the Champion of our 
 Sex, and the Phcenix 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 Pulchrella wooe ? 
 
ACT. in. sc. II. THE REHEARSAL. 87 
 
 2 Volftiusjits down. 
 
 Vols. How has my paffion made me Cupid 's feoff! 
 
 This hafty 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 diflraclion I am bi ought. 
 Sometimes, with flubborn 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 mall I do ? what conduct 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, 6v. 
 
 Or what hard-hearted eare can be fo dead, 
 As to be deafe, if faire Panthea plead ? 
 Whom fhall I pleafe? Or which fhall I refufe? 
 J'ulihrflla fues, and fair Panthea fues : 
 Piilclinlla melts me with her love-fick teares, 
 But brave Panthea batters downe my eares 
 With Love's Pettarre : Pulchrdlas bread enclofes 
 A foft Affection wrapt in Beds of Rofes. 
 But in the rare Pantheas noble lines, 
 True Worth and Honour, with Affedtion joynes. 
 I (land even-balanc'd, doubtfully opprell, 
 Beneathe the burthen of a bivious brefl. 
 When I perufe my fweet Pulchrdlas 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 wavea 
 Rock the drencht Pinace on the Sea-greene brefl 
 Of frowning Atnphitriie, who opprefl 
 Betwixt two Lords, (not knowing which t' obey) 
 Remaines a Neuter in a doubtfull way. 
 So toft am I, bound to fuch ftrait confines, 
 Betwixt Pulchrellds and Panthecfs lines. 
 Both cannot fpeed : But one that muft prevaile. 
 I (land even poys'd : an Atome turnes the fcale. 
 F.QUARLLS. TheVir^inWidow, Aftiii Sc.i. pp. 41-43. Ed. 1649. 
 
ACT. in. sc. n. THE REHEARSAL. 89 
 
 SMI. I don't know 'twill take, Sir ; but I am fure 
 you fweat hard for't. 
 
 BAYES. Ay, Sir, it cofls me more pains, and trouble, 
 to do thefe things, than almoft 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 juft as it mould 
 be, in every circumftance, 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. 
 
00 ILLUSTRATIONS, &t. 
 
 1 Colonel /ffiirv Ifim'anl, Son of Thomas Earl of Berk/hire, 
 made a Flay, cali'd the United AV^/i-wy, which began with a 
 Funeral ; and liad alfo two Kings in it. This gave the Duke a 
 jufl 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-I'it in 
 Drury-Lane, foon after the Rejloration ; but mifcarrying on the 
 ftage, the Author had the Modefly not to Print it ; and there- 
 fore, the Reader cannot reafonably expect any particular Paflages 
 of it. Others fay, that they are Boaod lin and Aluialla, the two 
 contending Kings of Granada, and Mr. Dry Jen has in motl 
 of his ferious Plays two contending Kings of the fame 
 Place, Key, 1704. 
 
ACT. IV. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 91 
 
 ACTUS IV. SCLENA I. 
 BAYES, and the two Gentlemen. 
 
 BAYES. IF^PE&lll Entlemen, becaufe I would not 
 have any two things alike in this 
 Play, the laft Ac~l 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 juft 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 poffibly, I gad, be acled in lefs than a whole week : 
 and I'l fpeak a bold word, it mall Drum, Trumpet, 
 Shout and Battel, I gad, with any the mod warlike 
 Tragcedy 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 mould 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, &>c. 
 
 1 Bp. Percy fays : 
 
 This is intended to ridicule the abfurd cuflom of writing plays 
 in feveral parts, as the Siege of Rhodes, Parts I. and n. Killi- 
 grew's Btllamira I and II. Thomafo \. and II. Cicilia and Clo- 
 rinda, I. and II. &c. ; but is principally levelled at the Conqiiifi 
 of Granada in 2 Parts : which is properly but one play of ten 
 adls, neither the plot nor characters being compleat or intelligible 
 in either without, the other. 
 
 1 Bp. Percy confiders that this refers to Conquejl of Granada, 
 Part n. A<51 iv, 
 
ACT. iv. sc. i. 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 mufl 
 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 confideration, Mr. Hayes, indeed, I 
 think, will be very neceffary. 
 
 SMI. And when comes in your mare, pray Sir ? 
 
 BAYES. The third week. 
 
 JOHNS. I vow, you'l get a world of money. 
 
 BAYES. Why, faith, a man mufl 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 word) 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. JBayes, for a new 
 thing ? 
 
 BAYES. Yes, sir, as I have order'd it. You fhall 
 hear. He having pafllonately 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 me coming at laft to love him, with 
 as violent a paflion as he lov'd her, me kills her felf.* 
 Now my queftion is, which of thefe two perfons mould 
 fuffer 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 
 
9 4 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 1 The Ghojl [of his mother] comes on y foftly, after 
 the Conjuration; and Almanzor retires to the middle 
 of the Stage. 
 
 Ghojl. I am the Ghoft of her who gave thee birth : 
 The Airy 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 dy'd. 
 I dy'd ; and for my Winding-meet, a Wave 
 I had ; and all the Ocean for my Grave. 
 J. DRYDEN. Conquejl oj Granada, P. I. Adi iv. p. 130. Ed. 1671. 
 
 2 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 (hould 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 twoUfurpers and Attendants. 
 Lay it down there : no, here, Sir. So, now fpeak. 
 K. UJh. 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 flead, to leave us nought but 
 
 death ? 
 
 The world difcovers now its emptinefs, 
 And, by her lofs, demonflrates we have lefs. 
 BAYES. Is not that good language now ? is not that 
 elevate ? It's my non -ultra, I gad. You mull 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 (he ? 
 BAYES. Why, Sir, the Sifter of Drawcanfir. A Ladie 
 that was drown'd at Sea, and had a wave for her 
 winding-meet. 1 
 
 K. UJJi. Lardella, O Lardella, from above, 
 
 Behold the Tragick iffue of our Love. 
 Pitie us, finking under grief and pain, 
 For thy being call 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 1 % 
 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, &(. 
 
 I have form'd a Hcroc [i.e. Almanzor], I confefs ; not abfo- 
 lutely perfect ; but of an exceffivc and ovcrboyling courage, 
 both Homer and 'i ajfo 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 fliine but 
 dimly in an Epick poem. 
 
 J. DRYDEN. Dedication to Conquest of Granada. 
 See alfo on this fubjecl, the prefatory EfTay to the fame play, 
 entitled Of Ileroique Playes. 
 
ACT. iv. sc. I. 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 fo take the papyr. 
 
 BAYES. Pifh ! 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 mud ufe my Spectacles. This, 
 now, is a Copie of Verfes, which I make Lardella 
 compofe, jufl as me is dying, with defign to have it 
 pin'd on her Coffin, and fo read by one of the Ufurpers, 
 who is her Coufm. 
 
 SMI. A very fhrewd defign that, upon my word, 
 Mr. Baycs. 
 
 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 fhould 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. TomydearCotiz,KingY\\y$. 
 
 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 underfland that better : it has been 
 longer my practice ; it has indeed, Sir. 
 
 SMI. Your fervant, Sir. 
 
 BAYES. Pray mark it. \_Jteads. 
 
 G 
 
9? ILLUSTRATIONS, drv. 
 
 ' 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 pad Loves. 
 
 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 clofing eye. 
 
 All dangers from your bed I will remove ; 
 But guard it mod from any future Love. 
 And when at lad, 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 DRYDEN. Tyrannick Love. Adliii. Sc. L p. 28. Ed. i67(x 
 
ACT. iv. 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 fweeping by, 
 And then, both Hum and Buz before your eye. 
 
 JOHNS. By my troth, that's a very great promife. 
 SMI. Yes, and a mod extraordinary comfort to boot. 
 
 BAYES. Your bed of Love, from dangers I will free ; 
 But mod, from love of any future Bee. 
 And when, with pitie, your heart-firings mall 
 
 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 diverted of her 
 Terreflrial part, and all that, me is only capable of thefe 
 little, pretty, amorous defigns that are innocent, and 
 yet paffionate. Come, draw your fwords. 
 
 K. Phys. Come fword, come fheath thy felf within 
 
 this breaft, 
 That only in Lardella's Tomb can reft. 
 
i oo //. / r.s / -RA TIONS, Sre. 
 
 1 See the Scene in the Villain : where the Hod furni flies his 
 quells with a collation out of his Cloaths ; a Capon from his 
 IlrlnH-t, a Tan ley out of the Lining of his Cap, Cream out of 
 his Sa.bbard, &c Key 1704. 
 
 The text of this Scene, which mufl have depended much more 
 u]>on the acting than the fpeeches for its fuccefs, is as follows : 
 
 //>/?. 'Tis the Sign of the Pig, and I'm the Mafter of the 
 Cabaret, which (hall give you mod Excellent content. 
 
 ('('//v- Say'ft thou so honed fellow ? faith thou art a very merry 
 honed fellow ; Siders, I'l treat you, and thefe Gentlemen, at 
 tlii-> Cabaret he talks of; Prethee honed Friend where is this 
 Cabaret ? for I long to be in a Cabaret. 
 
 IfojL Why here Sir, fit down at this Table, 
 And call for what you will. 
 
 t '><//>?. How's this, how's this ? S'death are you one of Urgan- 
 das Squiers ? pray friend whence fhall the meat, and wine come? 
 
 Laniar. From Tripoli on a Broomdick. 
 
 llojl. Pray Gentlemen, hinder me not the Cudom 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. 
 
 /Ay/. Truly I won't ; if you be not pleaf 'd above expectation, 
 Ne'r Trud one again of my profeflion. 
 
 Delpe. Faith Ladies this may prove worth our Curiofity ; 
 Come we will fit down. 
 
 Afaria. \Vhat you pleafe Sir. 
 
 Colig. That's my good Sider ; Come, come, La Couvert, la 
 Couvert. 
 
 Lamar. This begins to look like fomthing, he's bravely duft 
 I'l warrant you, he is fo well hung. 
 
 Colig. Now Sir, a cold bred of your delicate white Veal. 
 
 llojl. Here you have it Sir. 
 
 Colig. Nay, nay, and a fallet ? good Sir, a fallet ? 
 
 llojl. Well Sir, I mud 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 Mounfieur ? 
 
 Lamar. Before St. Lewis an Excellent Trimming, 
 I'l ha' my next Suit, that I go into the Campaign with, 
 trimm'd all with Safages. 
 Afaria. 'Twill make many a hungry Souldier aim at you. 
 
 Colig. Well thought on ifaith Sir. 
 Come friend, a Difli of Safages, a difh of Safages. 
 
 Hoft. Why look you Sir, this Gentleman only midook the 
 placing, thefe do better in a belt. 
 
 Continued at pp. 104, 106. 
 
ACT. iv. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 101 
 
 K. UJJi. 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 act fuch deadly things. 
 Lardella lives : I did but try 
 If Princes for their Loves could dye. 
 Such Creleftial conftancie 
 Shall, by the Gods, rewarded be : 
 And from thefe Funeral obfequies 
 A Nuptial Banquet fhall 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 Volfrius 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 expected. 
 
 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. UJJi. Refplendent Pallas, we in thee do find 
 The fierceft Beauty, and a fiercer mind : 
 And fince to thee Lardella'?, 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 Bole in their hands. 
 
 K. U/Ji. But where's the Wine ? 
 1 Pal. That fhall be mine. 
 
 Lo, from this conquering Lance, 
 
 Does flow the pureft wine of France : I p'^ 1 ^ 
 
 And, to appeafe your hunger, I of her 
 
 Have, in my Helmet, brought a Pye : ' Lance ' 
 
 Laftly, to bear a part with thefe, 
 
 Behold a Buckler made of Cheefe. [ Vamjh Pallas. 
 
103 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 mua 
 
 dye, 
 
 And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am 1. 
 J.DRYDEN. Conyue/l of Granada,?, ll. Ad iv. p. 131. Ed. 1672. 
 
 1 1 will not now, if thou wouldfl beg me, flay ; 
 But I will take my Almahide away. 
 
 Idem, P. I. Aa v. p. 60. Ed. 1672. 
 
 * Almanzor. Thou darfl not marry her while I'm in 
 
 fight ; 
 With a bent brow thy Pried and thee I'le fright, 
 
 And in that Scene 
 
 Which all thy hopes and wifhes mould content, 
 The thought of me fhall make thee impotent. 
 
 He is led off by Guards. 
 Idem, P. I. Aa v. p. 61. Ed. 1672. 
 
 4 Almanzor. Spight of my felf I'le Stay, Fight, Love, 
 
 Despair, 
 And I can do all this, becaufe I dare. 
 
 Idem, P. II. Aa ii. p. 99. Ed. 1672. 
 
ACT. IV. sc. I. THE REHEARSAL. 103 
 
 Enter Drawcanfir. 
 
 1 K. Phys. Whit man is this that dares difturbour feaft? 
 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 
 would 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 marveilous good one ; I fwear. 
 
 K. UJJi. 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 modefl, fo gent ! 
 
 SMI. O, very like. 
 
 * Draw. You (hall not know how long I here will flay; 
 But you fhall 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) modefl and gent ? 
 BAYES. No, I gad, Sir, but it's great. 
 K. UJJi. Though, Brother, this grum flranger be a 
 
 Clown, 
 
 He'l leave us, fure, a little to gulp down. 
 3 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 flrut, look big and flare ; 
 
 And all this I can do, becaufe I dare. [Exit. 
 SMI. I fuppofe, Mr. Hayes, this is the fierce Hero 
 you fpoke of. 
 
 BAYES. Yes; but this is nothing: you fhall fee him, in 
 the laflAcl, 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 // /- ( TKA TJO.VS, &v. 
 
 I 'ontinuedfrotH p. 100. 
 
 Fiatic. A ftrange fellow this. 
 
 Delpe. I, is it not ? come Sir, wine we see you have t 
 Prctlu-e let's tafl the licit. 
 
 //y/. That you lhall Sir; 
 If ymfl hear Mufick, and a Song with't, 
 I'm ready : you (hall want nothing here. 
 
 Sings. 
 
 Yet may Tipple, and Tipple, and Tipple all out, 
 Till ycc b.ijjfle the Stars, and the Sun face about. 
 
 Delpe. Away with your Drunken fongs, have you nothing 
 fitter to please the Ladies? 
 
 //y?. Yes Sir. 
 
 Delpe. Come away with it then. 
 
 Hoft Sings. 
 
 Colig. Moft Excellent ifaith ! Here's to thee honed fellow 
 with all my heart ; nay ftay a little, this is very good Wine ; 
 
 here's to thee again heark you honcfl fellow, let me fpeak 
 
 with you afide. D'ye Count here by pieces or d'ye treat by the 
 head ? 
 
 Hoft. I'l treat by the head Sir, if you please ; a Crown a 
 head, and you fhall have excellent cheer, Wine as much as you 
 can drink. 
 
 Colig. That's honeftly faid ; you know my father friend, tis 
 Mounfieur Cortaux. 
 
 Hoft. 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 difgrace, Sir, your 
 mod humble Servant. 
 
 Hoft. 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 mould have had horns, ha, ha, ha, 
 Here's to yee noble Captain ; a very good jeft 
 As I am a Gentleman : 
 
 Help. I thank you Sir ! 
 
 Colig. Methink's you are melancholly, Sir ! 
 
 Li'ma. Not I Sir, I can affure you : Lady's how 
 Like ye the fport, an odd Collation, but well 
 Contriv'd. 
 
 Fran. The contrivance is all in all. 
 
 Concluded at p. 106. 
 
ACT. iv. sc. il. THE REHEARSAL. 105 
 
 BAYES. Phoo ! that is to raife the chara<5ler of 
 Drawcanfir. 
 
 JOHNS. O' my word, that was well thought on. 
 
 BAYES. Now, Sir, I'l mew 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^NA II. 
 
 Enter Prince Pretty-man, and Prince Volfcius. 
 
 y, 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. 
 
io6 //. /. <f/.V TK. I T/OA r S, &(. 
 
 Concluded from p 104. 
 
 Maria. What makes my Brother kneel, look, look Sifter. 
 
 Colig. Here's a health to our noble Colonel, 
 ( ii-ntlemen, ye fee 'tis a good one ! 
 
 Help. Yes, and a large one, but if both drink it 
 How fliall we lead your Sifters home ! 
 
 Colig. No matter, Hem : here 'tis Gentlemen, /^rAVjf////. 
 Come, come a Tan fey Sirrah quickly. 
 
 ffelp. Has pos'd ye there mine Hoft. 
 
 IIojl. That's as time fliall try, look ye here Sir.' 
 The lining of my Cap is good for something. 
 
 La'mar. Faith this was unlook'd for. 
 
 felp. S'fifh I think all his apparel is made of commendable 
 Stuff; has he not Ginger-bread-flioes on. 
 
 Ifojl. 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 Hoft's health Gentlemen. 
 
 D\'lp. Could you procure thefe Ladies a difli of Cream 
 Sir, this will fhew your Mafter-piece ! 
 
 Hqft. 'Tis the only weapon I fight at ; look ye 
 Gentlemen the thunder has melted my fword 
 In the fcabbard, But 'tis good, tafte it. 
 
 D'elp. Th' aft my Verdict to be the wonder of Hofts, 
 Shalt have a Patent for't if I have any 
 Power at Court. 
 
 T. PORTER. The Villain. Act iii. Sc. i. pp. 4750 lid. 1663. 
 
ACT. iv. sc. ii. THE REHEARSAL. IO7 
 
 Pret. Since love it felf's the fame, why fliould it be 
 Diff'ring in you from what it is in me ? 
 
 BAYES. Reafoning ; I gad, I love reafoning in verfe. 
 Vols. Love takes, Came/eon-like, 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 mod 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 Rone-lips external fweets exhale ; 
 And her bright flames makeall flameselfe 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. 
 
io8 ILLUSTRATIONS, &>c. 
 
 1 Maximin. Thou ly'ft: there's not a God inhabits 
 
 there, 
 
 But for this Chriflian would all Heav'n forfwear. 
 Ev'nyiw would try more fhapes her Love to win : \ 
 And in new birds, and unknown beads would fin ; 
 At lead, \ijove could love like Maximin. 
 
 J. DRVDEN, Tyrannick Love, Ad ii. p. 19. Ed. 1670. 
 
 *(rt) Maximin. Stay ; if thou fpeak'fl that word, thou 
 
 fpeak'R thy lafl : 
 
 Some God now, if he dares, relate what's pad : 
 Say but he's dead, that God (hall mortal be. 
 
 Idem, Aft i. p. 7. Ed. 1670. 
 
 (b} Maximin. Provoke my rage no farther, left I be 
 Reveng'd at once upon the Gods and thee. 
 
 Idem, Aft i. p. 9. Ed. 1670 
 
ACT. iv. sc. it. THE REHEARSAL. 109 
 
 Vote. 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 Cloris, 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. 
 * Pret. Durft 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'ft 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 loft 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 fmgle line, I gad, is worth all that my brother 
 Poets ever writ. So, now let down the Curtain. 
 
 \JExeunt. 
 
 Finis Actus Quarti. 
 
i o ILLUSTRA TIONS, &V. 
 
ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. 
 
 ACTUS V. SCLENTA I. 
 BAYES, and the two Gentlemen. 
 
 BAYES. !Br^SHJP w ' Gentlemen, I will be bold 
 to fay, I'l fhew you the greatefl 
 Scene that ever England faw : I 
 mean not for words, for thofe 
 I do not value ; but for ftate, 
 fliew, and magnificence. In fine, I'l juflifie 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, 6v. 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 firft do fpeak : whofe high 
 preheminence, in all things that do bear the name of 
 good, may juflly claim that priviledge. 
 
 Pret. Royal Father, upon my knees I beg 
 
 That the Illuftrious Volfcius firR be heard. 
 
 BAYES. Here it begins to unfold : you may perceive, 
 now, that he is his Son 
 
ILL USTKA TIONS, <&-<. 
 
 1 In Sept. 1656, Sir W. D'AVENANT publifhed ' The SMV O r 
 Rhodes, made a Reprefentation by the Art of Profpedlive in 
 Scenes, And the ftory fung in Recitative Mufic. At the back of 
 Jv'w/'/r.W-Houfe in the upper end of Alderfgate-Sreet, London ' 
 Inftead of A<fls, there are five 'Entries.' This conftituted 1'art 
 I. The fecond part was publifhed in 1663. 
 
 In 'The first Entry,' p. 4. 
 
 Enter Alphonfo. 
 
 1 Alphon. What various Noifes do mine ears invade? 
 And have a Confort of confusion made ? 
 
 9 Nakar and Damilcar defcendin Clouds, andftng. 
 
 Nakar Hark, my Damilcar, we are call'd below ! 
 
 Dam. Let us go, let us go ! 
 
 Go to relieve the care 
 
 Of longing Lovers in defpair ! 
 
 Mar. Merry, merry, merry, we fail from the Eaft 
 
 Half tippled at a Rain-bow Feafl. 
 
 Dam. In the bright Moon-fhine while winds whiftle 
 
 livy, tivy, tivy, we mount and we fly, 
 
 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. 
 
 A ma. Invincible Soveraigns {Soft Mufick. 
 
 K. UJJi. 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. The two Ufiirpers Jleal 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, finging in white gar- 
 ments ; and three Fidlers fitting before 
 them, in green. 
 BAYES. Now, becaufe the two Right Kings defcend 
 from above, I make 'em fing 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 flayc?, 
 Bufie, bufie, bufie, bufie, we buftle along. 
 Mounted upon warm Phoebus his Rayes, 
 Through the Heavenly throng, 
 Hafte to thofe 
 H 
 
H4 ILLUSTRATIONS, <Srv. 
 
 \\'c Hide on the back of a new-falling Star. 
 
 +\\ikar. And drop from above, 
 
 In a Gelly of Love ! 
 
 J)i'in. 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. 
 
 J\im. () 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 pafs ! 
 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 Lover, and fuccour the fair, 
 That, filent and fwift, the little foft God 
 Is here with a wifli, and is gone with a nod. 
 
 [The Cloud's part, Nakar flies up, a^Damilcar down. 
 J. DRYDEN. Tyrannick Love. Ad iv. Sc. i. pp 30-31 Ed. 1670. 
 
ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 115 
 
 Who will feafl us, at night, with a Pigs 
 Pretty-toes. 
 
 1 King. And we'l fall with our pate 
 
 In an Ollio of hate. 
 
 2 King. But now fupper's done, the Servitors try, 
 Like Souldiers, to florm a whole half-moon-pye. 
 
 1 King. They gather, they gather hot Cuftard in 
 
 fpoons, 
 
 Alas, I mud leave thefe half-moons, 
 And repair to my trufly Dragoons. 
 
 2 King. O flay, for you need not as yet go aftray ; 
 The Tyde, like a friend, has brought mips in our 
 
 way, 
 
 And on their high ropes we will play. 
 Like Maggots in Filberds, we'lfnug in our fhell, 
 We'l frisk in our fhell, 
 We'l firk in our fhell, 
 And farewel. 
 
 1 King. But the Ladies have all inclination to dance, 
 And the green Frogs croak out a Coranto of France. 
 
 BAYES. Is not that pretty, now ? The Fidlers are 
 all in green. 
 
 SMI. I, but they play no Coranto. 
 
 JOHNS. No, but they play a Tune, that's a great 
 deal better. 
 
 BAYES. No Coranto quoth a ! that's a good one, 
 with all my heart. Come, sing on. 
 
 2 King. Now Mortals that hear 
 
 How we Tilt and Carrier, 
 With wonder will fear 
 
 The event of fuch things as mall never appear, 
 i King. Stay you to fulfil what the Gods have decreed. 
 zKing. Then call metohelpyou,iftherefhallbe need, 
 i King. So firmly refolv'd is a true Brentford King 
 To fave the diftreffed, and help to 'em bring, 
 That ere a Full-pot of good Ale you can fwallow, 
 He's here with a whoop, and gone with a holla. 
 [BAYES phillips his finger, andfings after 'em. 
 
, , 6 //. 1. 1 W TRA 770 MS, &c 
 
ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. n? 
 
 BAYES. He's here with a whoop, and gone with a 
 holla. This, Sir, you muft know, I thought once 
 to have brought in with a Conjurer. 
 
 JOHNS. I, that would have been better. 
 
 BAYES. No, faith, not when you confider it : for 
 thus 'tis more compendious, and does the thing every 
 whit as well. 
 
 SMI. Thing ! what thing ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, bring 'em down again into the Throne, 
 Sir ; what thing would you have ? 
 
 SMI. Well ; but, methinks, the Sence of this Song 
 is not very plain. 
 
 BAYES. Plain ? why, did you ever hear any people 
 in Clouds fpeak plain ? They mull be all for flight of 
 fancie, at its full range, without the leaft check, or 
 controul upon it. When once you tye up fpirits, and 
 people in Clouds to fpeak plain, you fpoil all. 
 
 SMI. Blefs me, what a Monfter's this ! 
 
 The two Kings light out of the Clouds, and 
 Jlep into the Throne. 
 
 1 King. Come, now to ferious counfel we'l ad- 
 
 vance. 
 
 2 King. I do agree ; but firfl, let's have a Dance. 
 
 BAYES. Right. You did that very well, Mr. Cart- 
 wright. But firft, let's have a Dance. Pray remember 
 that ; be fure you do it always juft fo : for it muft be 
 done as if it were the effec"l of thought, and premedita- 
 tion. Butfirft, let's have a Dance. Pray remember that. 
 
 SMI. Well, I can hold no longer, I muft gag this 
 rogue ; there's no induring of him. 
 
 JOHNS. No, pr'ythee make ufe of thy patience a 
 little longer : let's fee the end of him now. 
 
 {Dance a grand Dance. 
 
 BAYES. This, now, is an ancient Dance, of right 
 belonging to the Kings of Brentford ; and fince de- 
 riv'd, with a little alteration, to the Inns of Court. 
 
 An Alarm. Enter two Heralds. 
 
n8 ILLUSTRATIONS, &v. 
 
 1 Enter Abdelmelech. 
 Boabdelen. What new misfortune do thefe Cries prefage? 
 
 JOHN DRYDEN. Conquest of Granada, Part n. Act i. p. 78. 
 
 Ed. 1672. 
 
 1 Enter a Second Meffenger. 
 
 Sec. Meff. Hade all you can their fury to affwage. 
 You are not fafe from their rebellious rage. 
 
 Enter a Third Meffenger. 
 
 Third Meff. This Minute if you grant not their defire 
 They'll feize your Perfon and your Palace Fire. 
 
 Idem, Part II, Act i. p 80. Ed. 1672. 
 
ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. II9 
 
 i King. What favvcie Groom molefls our privacies ? 
 
 1 Her. The Army's at the door, and in difguiie, 
 
 Defires a word with both your Majefties : 
 
 2 Her. Having, from Knights-bridge, hither march'd 
 
 by Health. 
 
 2 King. Bid 'em attend a while, and drink our health. 
 SMI. How, Mr. Bayes, the Army in difguife ? 
 BAYES. Ay, Sir, for fear the Ufurpers might difcover 
 them that went out but jufl now. 
 
 SMI. Why, what if they had difcover'd them ? 
 BAYES. Why then they had broke this defign. 
 SMI. That's true, indeed. I did not think of that. 
 
 1 King. Here, take five Guineys for thofe warlike men. 
 
 2 King. And here's five more ; that makes the fum 
 
 jufl ten. 
 
 i Her. We have not feen fo much the Lord knows 
 when. \Exeunt Heralds. 
 
 1 King. Speak on, brave Amarillis. 
 
 A ma. Invincible Soveraigns, blame not my modefty, 
 
 If at this grand conjuncture 
 
 [Drum beats behind the Stage. 
 
 1 1 King. What dreadful noife is this that comes and 
 goes ? 
 
 Enter a Soldier with his Sword drawn. 
 *Sold. Hafte hence, great Sirs, your Royal perfons fave. 
 For the event of war no mortal knows : 
 The Army, wrangling for the gold you gave, 
 Firfl fell to words, and then to handy-blows. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 2 King. O dangerous eflate of Soveraign pow'r ! 
 
 Obnoxious to the change of every hour. 
 i King. Let us for fhelter in our Cabinet flay : 
 
 Perhaps thefe threat'ning florms may pafs 
 away. [Exeunt. 
 
 JOHNS. But, Mr. Bayes, did not you promife us, 
 jufl now, to make Amarillis fpeak very well? 
 
 BAYES. Ay, and fo fhe would have done, but that 
 they hinder' d her. 
 
1 20 //. L US TKA 1 70NS, frt. 
 
ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. 121 
 
 SMI. How, Sir ? whether you would or no ? 
 
 BAYES. Ay, Sir ; the Plot lay fo that, I vow to gad, 
 it was not to be avoided. 
 
 SMI. Marry, that was hard. 
 
 JOHNS. But, pray, who hinder'd her ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, the battel, Sir, that's juft coming in 
 at door. And I'l tell you now a ftrange thing: 
 though I don't pretend to do more than other men, 
 I gad, I'l give you both a whole week to ghefs how I'l 
 represent this Battel. 
 
 SMI. I had rather be bound to fight your Battel, Sir, 
 I allure you. 
 
 BAYES. Why, there's it now : fight a Battel ? there's 
 the common error. I knew prefently where I mould 
 have you. Why, pray, Sir, do but tell me this one 
 thing, Can you think it a decent thing, in a battel 
 before Ladies, to have men run their Swords through 
 one another, and all that? 
 
 JOHNS. No, faith, 'tis not civil. 
 
 BAYES. On the other fide ; to have a long relation 
 of Squadrons here, and Squadrons there : what is that 
 but a dull prolixity ? 
 
 JOHNS. Excellently reafon'd, by my troth ! 
 
 BAYES. Wherefore, Sir, to avoid both thofe Inde- 
 corums, I fum up my whole battel in the reprefenta- 
 tion of two perfons only, no more : and yet fo lively, 
 that, I vow to gad, you would fwear ten thoufand 
 men were at it, really engag'd. Do you mark me ? 
 
 SMI. Yes, Sir ; but I think I mould hardly fwear, 
 though, for all that. 
 
 BAYES. By my troth, Sir, but you would, though, 
 when you fee it : for I make 'em both come out in 
 Armor, Cap-a-pea, with their Swords drawn, and hung, 
 with a fcarlet Ribbon at their wrifts, (which, you 
 know, reprefents fighting enough) each of 'em holding 
 a Lute in his hand. 
 
 SMI. How, Sir, inftead of a Buckler? 
 
 BAYES. O Lord, O Lord ! inftead of a Buckler ? 
 Pray, Sir, do you ask no more queftions. I make 'em, 
 
123 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 1 (a) Arm, Arm, Villerius, Arm ! 
 
 Sir W. D'AVENANT. Siege of Rhodes. 'The first Entry.' p. 3. 
 
 Ed. 1656. 
 
 (i>) 'The Third Entry' thus begins. 
 
 Enter Solyman, Pirrhus, Muflapha. 
 Solym. Pirrhus. Draw up our Army wide ! 
 
 Then, from the Grofs two ftrong Referves divide ; 
 
 And fpread the wings ; 
 As if we were to fight 
 In the loft Rhodians fight 
 
 With all the Weftern Kings ! 
 Each Wing with Janizaries line ; 
 The Right and Left to Hatty's Sons afllgne j 
 The Grofs to Zangiban. 
 The Main Artillery 
 With Muflapha fhall be : 
 Bring thou the Rear, We lead the Van. 
 
 Idem, p. 14. 
 
 (c) At the beginning of ' The fifth Entry ' is, 
 
 Mufla. Point well the Cannon, and play fafl ! 
 
 Their fury is too hot to laft. 
 That Rampire fhakes ! they fly into the Town ! 
 Pirrh. March up with thofe Referves to that Redout, 
 Faint Slaves ! the Janizaries reel ! 
 They bend, they bend ! and feem to feel 
 
 The terrors of a Rout. 
 
 Miifla. Old Zanger halts, and reinforcement lacks ! 
 Pirrh. March on 
 Mujla. Advance thofe Pikes, and charge their Backs. 
 
 Idem, p. 30. 
 
ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. I2 3 
 
 Sir, play the battel in Eecitativo. And here's the 
 conceipt. Juft at the very fame inftant that one 
 fmgs, the other, Sir, recovers you his Sword, and puts 
 himfelf in a warlike poflure : fo that you have at once 
 your ear entertain'd with Mufick, and good Language, 
 and your eye fatisfi'd with the garb, and accoutrements 
 of war. Is not that well ? 
 
 JOHNS. I, what would you have more ? he were a 
 Devil that would not be fatisfi'd with that. 
 
 SMI. I confefs, Sir, you ftupifie me. 
 
 BAYES. You mall fee. 
 
 JOHNS. But, Mr. Bayes, might not we have a little 
 fighting for I love thofe Plays, where they cut and 
 flafh one another, upon the Stage, for a whole hour 
 together. 
 
 BAYES. Why, then, to tell you true, I have con- 
 triv'd it both ways. But you fhall have my Recitativo 
 firfl. 
 
 Enter, at feveral doors, the General, and Lieutenant 
 
 General, arnfd Cap-a-pea, with each of them a Lute 
 
 in his hand, and his fword drawn, and 
 
 hung, with a fcarlet Ribbon at his wrijl. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. Villain, thou lyeft. 
 1 Gen. Arm, arm, Gonfalvo, arm ; what ho ? 
 
 The lye no flefh can brook, I trow. 
 Lieut. Gen. Advance, from Afton, with the Muf- 
 
 quetiers. 
 
 Gen. Draw down the Chelfey Curiafiers, 
 Lieut. Gen. The Band you boast of, Chelfey Curiafiers, 
 Shall, in my Putney Pikes, now meet their Peers. 
 Gen. Chifwickians, aged, and renown'd in fight, 
 
 Joyn with the Hammerfmith Brigade. 
 Lieut. Gen. You'l find my Mortlake Boys will do 
 
 them right, 
 
 Unlefs by Fulham numbers over-laid. 
 Gen. Let the left-wing of TwicKnam foot advance 
 And line that Eaftern hedge. 
 
1 2 4 //. ll'STRA'l 'IONS, 
 
ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 125 
 
 Lieut. Gen. The Horfe I rais'd in Petty-France 
 
 Shall try their chance. 
 
 And fcowr the Medows, over-grown with Sedge. 
 Gen. Stand : give the word. 
 Lieut. Gen. Bright Sword. 
 Gen. That may be thine. 
 
 But 'tis not mine. 
 Lieut. Gen. Give fire, give fire, at once give fire, 
 
 And let thofe recreant Troops perceive mine ire. 
 Gen. Purfue, purfue ; they fly 
 
 That firft did give the lye. [Exeunt. 
 
 BAYES. This, now, is not improper, I think, becaufe 
 the Spectators know all thefe Towns, and may eafily 
 conceive them to be within the Dominions of the two 
 Kings of Brentford. 
 
 JOHNS. Moil exceeding well defign'd ! 
 
 BAYES. How do you think I have contriv'd to give 
 a (lop to this battel ? 
 
 SiMi. How? 
 
 BAYES. By an Eclipfe : Which, let me tell you, is a 
 kind of fancie that was yet never fo much as thought 
 of, but by my felf, and one perfon more, that fhall be 
 namelefs. Come, come in, Mr. a 
 
 Enter Lieutenant General. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. What mid-night darknefs does invade 
 
 the day, 
 
 And fnatch the Victor from his conquer'd prey ? 
 Is the Sun weary of his bloudy fight, 
 And winks upon us with his eye of light ? 
 'Tis an Eclipfe. This was unkind, O Moon, 
 To clap between me, and the Sun fo foon. 
 Foolifh Eclipfe ! thou this in vain haft done ; 
 My brighter honour had Eclips'd the Sun. 
 But now behold Eclipfes two in one. [Exit. 
 
 JOHNS. This is an admirable reprefentation of a 
 Battel, as ever I faw. 
 
126 ILLUSTRATIONS, &v. 
 
 1 Enter Aurora in a black Veil below. 
 
 Song in Dialogue. 
 Aur. Phoebus? 
 
 /%<r. Who calls the World's great Light? 
 Aur. Aurora, that abhors the Night. 
 Phaeb. Why does Aurora from her Clowd 
 
 To drowfie Phoebus cry fo loud ? 
 Aur. Put on thy Beams ; rife, (no regard 
 
 To a young Goddefs, that lies hard 
 
 In th' old Man's bofome?) rife for fhame, 
 
 And fhine my Clowd into a Flame. 
 Phaeb. Oblige me not beyond my pow'r, 
 
 I muft not rife before my hour. 
 Aur. Before thy hour? look down, and fee, 
 
 In vain the Per/Ian kneels to thee, 
 
 And I (mock'd by the glim'ring Shade) 
 
 A fad mistake in Naples made ; 
 
 Like Pliny, I had loft my life, 
 
 If I had been a Mortal Wife. 
 Phab.ThovL cam'ft too near the Burning Mount 
 
 Vefuviot 
 Aur. Upon thy account, 
 
 For I took Clowds of Smoke and Fire, 
 
 (which here from Vulcan 1 ?, Court expire) 
 
 For Morning-ftreaks, Blew, White, and Red, 
 
 That Roufe me from cold 7'if/ian's Bed. 
 
 [Phoebus enters with his Beams on. 
 Phceb. Charge not upon me for a Crime, 
 
 That I ftaid th' utmoft point of time, 
 
 Before I would put off my Bays, 
 
 And on Naples fhed my Rays, 
 
 where fuch a mifchief they have done, 
 
 As will make Venus hate the Sun, 
 
 Difcovering to Vulcan's, eye 
 
 Where She and Mars embracing lie. 
 Aur. I'm forry Mars and Venus had 
 
 Such privacy : but I am glad 
 
 that PJuvbus does at laft appear 
 
 To ftiine away Aurora's Fear. 
 //&#. What frighted thee? 
 Aur. I know not what : 
 
 But thou know'st all ; what noife is that ? 
 
 [Within Vulcan roars out, No work, Rogues? 
 Phaeb. 'Tis Vulcan, in a greater Heat 
 
 Than th' Irons by his Cyclops beat : 
 
 He makes the horrour of that noife, 
 
 Teaching and Knocking his great Boys, 
 
 (From hamm'ring out Jove's Thunder) fet 
 
ACT v. THE REHEARSAL. I2 ; 
 
 BAYES. I, Sir. But how would you fancie now to 
 reprefent an Eclipfe ? 
 
 SMI. Why, that's to be fuppos'd. 
 
 BAYES. Suppos'd ! Ay, you are ever at your fuppofe : 
 ha, ha, ha. Why, you may as well fuppofe the whole 
 Play. No it muft come in upon the Stage, that's cer- 
 tain ; but in fome odd way, that may delight, amufe, 
 and all that. I have a conceipt for't, that I am fure 
 is new, and, I believe, to the purpofe. 
 
 JOHNS. How's that ? 
 
 BAYES. Why, the truth is, I took the firft hint of this 
 out of a Dialogue, between Phoebus and Aurora, in the 
 Slighted Maid ; ' which, by my troth, was very pretty ; 
 though, I think, you'l confefs this is a little better. 
 
 JOHNS. No doubt on't, Mr. Eayes. 
 
 BAYES. But, Sir, you have heard, I fuppofe, that 
 your Eclipfe of the Moon, is nothing elfe, but an inter- 
 pofition of the Earth, between the Sun and Moon: 
 as likewife your Eclipfe of the Sun is caus'd by an 
 interlocation of the Moon, betwixt the Earth and Sun? 
 
 SMI. I have heard fo, indeed. 
 
 BAYES. Well, Sir ; what do me I, but make the Earth, 
 Sun, and Moon, come out upon the Stage, and dance 
 the Hey : hum ? And, of neceffity, by the very nature 
 of this Dance, the Earth muft be fometimes between 
 the Sun and the Moon, and the Moon between the 
 Earth and Sun ; and there you have both your Eclipfes. 
 That is new, I gad, ha ? 
 
 JOHNS. That muft needs be very fine, truly. 
 
 BAYES. Yes, there is fome fancie in't. And then, 
 Sir, that there may be fomething in it of a Joque, I 
 make the Moon fell the Earth a Bargain. Come, 
 come out Eclipfe, to the tune of Tom Tyler. 
 
 Enter Luna, 
 
 Luna. Orbis, O Orbis, 
 
 Come to me thou little rogue Orbis. 
 
 Enter the Earth. 
 Orb. What calls Terra firma, pray ? 
 
1 28 //. / ftf TRA 770AW, &v. 
 
 To File and Polifh Vulcan's Net, 
 Which he'l catch Mars and Venus in. 
 Ant. What now? [Laughing within. 
 
 Phocb. To laugh the Smiths begin : 
 At furious Vulcan (halting off 
 To nieafure his wife's Bed) they feoff. 
 Aur. I'l leave the place ; I can no more 
 Endure the Laughter than the Roar. 
 
 Tuning within. 
 
 fhaeli. Ileark, they record, they'l fmg anon ; 
 Tis time for J'Jia-bus to be gone ; 
 For when fuch Lyrick Affes bray, 
 The God of Mufique cannot (lay. 
 
 [Exeunt Phoebus and Aurora. 
 
 The Cyclops Song (within). 
 
 Cry our Ware, (Sooty Fellows 
 Of the Forge and the Bellows) 
 Has Jove any Okes to rend ? 
 lias Ceres Sickles to mend ? 
 Wants Nfptmnt' a Water- Fork? 
 All thefe are the Cyclops work ; 
 But to Wire-draw Iron-rods, 
 To File Nets to catch the Gods, 
 What can make our fingers fo fine ? 
 Drink, drink, Wine, Li/>/><iri-wme. 
 
 Sii R. STAPYLTON. The Slighted Maid, pp. 80-83. Ed. 1663. 
 
ACT. V. THE REHEARSAL. 129 
 
 Luna. Luna that ne'er fhines by day. 
 Orb. What means Lima in a veil ? 
 Luna. Luna means to fliew her tail. 
 
 Enter Sol. 
 Sol. Fie, Sifter, fie ; thou mak'fl 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 fhall I thy true love know, 
 
 Thou pretty, pretty Moon ? 
 Luna. To morrow foon, ere it be noon, 
 
 On Mount Vefuvio. [flis. 
 
 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 laft, Drawcanfir comes in, and kills 
 'em all on both fides. All this while the Battel is 
 fighting, BAYES is telling them when tofliout, and 
 JJwuts 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 Hie, 
 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 Heftcr, your Achilles, and a hundred 
 i 
 
130 ILLUSTRATIONS, 6-v. 
 
 1 Valeria, Daughter to Maximin, having kill'd her felf for 
 the Love of Porphyrius, when flie was to be carry'd off by the 
 Bearers, ftrikes one of them a Box on the Ear, and fpeaks to him 
 thiu 
 
 Hold ! are you mad ? you damn'd confounded Dog, 
 I am to rife, and fpeak the Epilogue. 
 Epilogue to \h.zft!cond edition of Tyratmick Lave, 1672. 
 
 Key, 1704- 
 
ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. 131 
 
 more ; but I defie all your Hiflories, and your Ro- 
 mances too, I gad, to mew me one fuch Conqueror, 
 as this Drawcanfir. 
 
 JOHNS. I fwear, I think you may. 
 
 SMI. But, Mr. Bayes, how (hall 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 mow you go 
 off. Rife, Sirs, and go about your bufmefs. 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 laft Ac~l is befl 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, juft as they 
 are going to Church, Prince Pretty-man meeting, by 
 chance, 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, Cloris, 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. 
 
I 32 ILLUSTRATIONS, >-. 
 
 1 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 Pent. Expreft by Inftrumentall and Vocall Mufick, 
 and by Art of Perfpeclive 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 necefTary to Scenes, and 
 other ornaments in this Entertainment, there is a good provifion 
 made of places for a milling. And it (hall begin certainly at 3 
 after noon. ' 
 
 The Rehearsal is therefore fupposed to take place in the 
 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 moft 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 muft 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 mail know 
 what a Satyrift I am. And fo farewel to this Stage for 
 ever, I gad. \Exit. 
 
 i Play. What mail we do now ? 
 
134 ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
ACT. v. THE REHEARSAL. I35 
 
 Pb/^w ^T, t ? en> I?' 8 fet Up Bills for anoth er 
 Play : We (hall lofe nothing by this, I warrant you 
 
 i J f -V am ? Ur P inion - But, before we go, 
 lets fee ffaynes, and Shirley pradife the laft Dance ' 
 for that may ferve for another Play. 
 
 2 Play. I'l call 'em : I think they are in the Tyrine- 
 room. * & 
 
 The Dance done. 
 i Play. Come, come ; let's go away to dinner. 
 
 \Exeunt omnes. 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 [He Play is at an end, but where's the Plot? 
 That circumflance our Poet Bayes forgot, 
 And we can boafl, 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 underftood with eafe ; 
 They every Scene with fo much wit did flore 
 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 Monflrous 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's have, at lead, 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. 
 
 . &> W. Rider, Printers, 
 
DATE DUE 
 
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