Trap. Fie upon't, fie upon't! make no excuses.
Sneer. Consider, sir, I am my own enemy.
Trap. I do consider that you might have past your time, perhaps, here as well as in another place.
Sneer. But I hope I have not transgressed much.
Trap. All's over, sir, all's over; you might as well have stayed away entirely; the fifth act's beginning, and the plot's at an end.
Sneer. What!'s the plot at an end before the fifth act is begun?
Trap. No, no, no, no, I don't mean at an end;
but we are so far advanced in it that it will be impossible for you to comprehend or understand anything of it.
Fust. You have too mean an opinion of Mr Sneerwell's capacity; I'll engage he shall understand as much of it as I, who have heard the other four.
Trap. Sir, I can't help your want of understanding or apprehension; 'tis not my fault if you cannot take a hint, sir: would you have a catastrophe in every act? Oons and the devil! have not I promised you you should know all by and by? but you are so impatient!
Fust. I think you have no reason to complain of my want of patience. Mr Sneerwell, be easy; 'tis but one short act before my tragedy begins; and that I hope will make you amends for what you are to undergo before it. Trapwit, I wish you would begin.
Trap. I wish so too. Come, prompter! are the members in their chairs?
Promp. Yes, sir.
Trap. Then carry them over the stage: but, hold, hold, hold! where is the woman to strew the flowers? [The members are carried over the stage.] Halloo, mob, halloo, halloo! Oons, Mr Prompter! you must get more mob to halloo, or these gentlemen will never be believed to have had the majority.
Promp. Sir, I can get no more mob; all the rest of the mob are gone to St James's-park to see the show.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Trapwit, who are these gentlemen in the chairs?
Trap. Ay, sir, this is your staying away so long; if you had been here the first four acts you would have known who they were.
Fust. Dear Sneerwell, ask him no more questions; if you enquire into every absurdity you see we shall have no tragedy to-day.
Trap. Come, Mr Mayor and Mrs Mayoress.
EnterMayorandMrs Mayoress.
May. So, now you have undone yourself your own way; you have made me vote against my conscience and interest too, and now I have lost both parties.
Mrs M. How have you lost both parties?
May. Why, my lord will never remember my voting for him, now he has lost the day; and Sir Harry, who has won it, will never forgive my voting against him: let which side will be uppermost, I shall have no place till the next election.
Mrs M. It will be your own fault then, sir; for you have it now in your power to oblige my lord more than ever; go and return my lord and the colonel as duly elected, and I warrant you I do your business with him yet.
May. Return 'em, my dear? Why, there was a majority of two or three score against 'em.
Mrs M. A fig for a majority of two or three score! if there had been a majority of as many hundreds, you'll never be called to an account for returning them; and when you have returned 'em, you'll have done all in your power. How can you expect that great men should do anything to serve you if you stick at anything to serve them?
May. My conscience boggles at this thing—but yet it is impossible I should ever get anything by the other side.
Mrs M. Ay, let that satisfy your conscience, that it is the only way to get anything.
May. Truly, I think it is.
Sneer. I think, Mr Trapwit, interest would be a better word there than conscience.
Trap. Ay, interest or conscience, they are words of the same meaning; but I think conscience rather politer of the two, and most used at court.
Mrs M. Besides, it will do a service to your town, for half of them must be carried to London at the candidates' expence; and I dare swear there is not one of them, whatever side he votes of, but would be glad to put the candidate to as much expence as he can in an honest way. [ExitMayor.
EnterMiss Mayoress,crying.
Miss M. Oh, mama, I have grieved myself to death at the court party's losing the day; for if the others should have a majority in the house, what would become of us? alas, we should not go to London!
Mrs M. Dry up your tears, my dear, all will be well; your father shall return my lord and the colonel, and we shall have a controverted election, and we will go to London, my dear.
Miss M. Shall we go to London? then I am easy; but if we had staid here I should have broke my heart for the love of my country.—Since my father returns them, I hope justice will find some friends above, where people have sense enough to know the right side from the left; however, happen what will, there is some consolation in going to London.
Mrs M. But I hope you have considered well what my lord told you, that you will not scruple going into keeping: perhaps, you will have it in your power to serve your family, and it would be a great sin not to do all you can for your family.
Miss M. I have dreamt of nothing but coaches and six, and balls, and treats, and shows, and masquerades ever since.
Fust. Dreamt, sir? why, I thought the time of your comedy had been confined to the same day, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. No, sir, it is not; but suppose it was, might she not have taken an afternoon's nap?
Sneer. Ay, or dreamt waking, as several people do.
EnterLord PLACEandCol. PROMISE.
Place. Madam, I am come to take my leave of you; I am very sensible of my many obligations to you, and shall remember them till the next election, when I will wait on you again; nay, I don't question but we shall carry our point yet, though they have given us the trouble of a petition.
Mrs M. No, no, my lord, you are not yet reduced to that; I have prevailed on my husband to return you and the colonel.
Place. To return us, madam?
Mrs M. Yes, my lord, as duly elected; and when we have returned you so, it will be your own fault if you don't prove yourself so.
Place. Madam, this news has so transported my spirits, that I fear some ill effect unless you instantly give me a dram.
Mrs M. If your lordship please to walk with me into my closet, I'll equip your lordship. [Exit.
Trap. How do you like that dram, sir?
Sneer. Oh! most excellent!
Fust. I can't say so, unless I tasted it.
Trap. Faith, sir, if it had not been for that dram my play had been at an end.
Fust. The devil take the dram with all my heart!
Trap. Now, Mr Fustian, the plot, which has hitherto been only carried on by hints, and opened itself like the infant spring by small and imperceptible degrees to the audience, will display itself like a ripe matron, in its full summer's bloom; and cannot, I think, fail with its attractive charms, like a loadstone, to catch the admiration of every one like a trap, and raise an applause like thunder, till it makes the whole house like a hurricane. I must desire a strict silence through this whole scene. Colonel, stand you still on this side of the stage; and, miss, do you stand on the opposite.—There, now look at each other. A long silence here.
Fust. Pray, Mr Trapwit, is nobody ever to speak again?
Trap. Oh! the devil! You have interrupted the scene; after all my precautions the scene's destroyed; the best scene of silence that ever was penned by man. Come, come, you may speak now; you may speak as fast as you please.
Col. Madam, the army is very much obliged to you for the zeal you shew for it; me, it has made your slave for ever; nor can I ever think of being happy unless you consent to marry me.
Miss M. Ha! and can you be so generous to forgive all my ill usage of you?
Fust. What ill usage, Mr Trapwit? For, if I mistake not, this is the first time these lovers spoke to one another.
Trap. What ill usage, sir? a great deal, sir.
Fust. When, sir? where, sir?
Trap. Why, behind the scenes, sir. What, would you have everything brought upon the stage? I intend to bring ours to the dignity of the French stage; and I have Horace's advice on my side. We have many things both said and done in our comedies which might be better performed behind the scenes: the French, you know, banish all cruelty from their stage; and I don't see why we should bring on a lady in ours practising all manner of cruelty upon her lover: besides, sir, we do not only produce it, but encourage it; for I could name you some comedies, if I would, where a woman is brought in for four acts together, behaving to a worthy man in a manner for which she almost deserves to be hanged; and in the fifth, forsooth, she is rewarded with him for a husband: now, sir, as I know this hits some tastes, and am willing to oblige all, I have given every lady a latitude of thinking mine has behaved in whatever manner she would have her.
Sneer. Well said, my little Trap! but pray let us have the scene.
Trap. Go on, miss, if you please.
Miss M. I have struggled with myself to put you to so many trials of your constancy; nay, perhaps have indulged myself a little too far in the innocent liberties of abusing you, tormenting you, coquetting, lying, and jilting; which as you are so good to forgive, I do faithfully promise to make you all the amends in my power, by making you a good wife.
Trap. That single promise, sir, is more than any of my brother authors had ever the grace to put into the mouth of any of their fine ladies yet; so that the hero of a comedy is left in a much worse condition than the villain of a tragedy, and I would choose rather to be hanged with the one than married with the other.
Sneer. Faith, Trapwit, without a jest, thou art in the right on't.
Fust. Go on, go on, dear sir, go on.
Col. And can you be so generous, so great, so good? Oh! load not thus my heart with obligations, lest it sink beneath its burden! Oh! could I live a hundred thousand years, I never could repay the bounty of that last speech! Oh! my paradise!
Eternal honey drops from off your tongue!And when you spoke, then Farinelli sung!
Trap. Open your arms, miss, if you please; remember you are no coquet now: how pretty this looks! don't it? [Mimicking her] Let me have one of your best embraces, I desire: do it once more, pray—There, there, that's pretty well; you must practise this behind the scenes.
[ExeuntMiss M.andCol.]
Sneer. Are they gone to practice, now, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. You're a joker, Mr Sneerwell; you're a joker.
EnterLord PLACE, Mayor,andMrs Mayoress.
Place. I return you my hearty thanks, Mr Mayor, for this return! and in return of the favour, I will certainly do you a very good turn very shortly.
Fust. I wish the audience don't do you an ill turn, Mr Trapwit, for that last speech.
Sneer. Yes, faith, I think I would cut out a turn or two.
Trap. Sir, I'll sooner cut off an ear or two: sir, that's the very best thing in the whole play. Come, enter the colonel and Miss ——— married.
Sneer. Upon my word, they have been very expeditious.
Trap. Yes, sir; the parson understands his business, he has plyed several years at the Fleet.
EnterCol. PROMISE and Miss Mayoress.
Col. and Miss (kneeling). Sir, and madam, your blessing.
Mrs M. and May. Ha!
Col. Your daughter, sir and madam, has made me the happiest of mankind.
Mrs M. Colonel, you know you might have had my consent; why did you choose to marry without it? However, I give you both my blessing.
May. And so do I.
Place. Then call my brother candidates; we will spend this night in feast and merriment.
Fust. What has made these two parties so suddenly friends, Mr Trapwit?
Trap. What? why the marriage, sir; the usual reconciler at the end of a comedy. I would not have concluded without every person on the stage for the world.
Place. Well, colonel, I see you are setting out forlife, and so I wish you a good journey.And you, gallants, from what you've seen to-night,If you are wrong, may set your judgments right;Nor, like our misses, about bribing quarrel,When better herring is in neither barrel.
[ManentFUST, TRAPandSNEER.]
Trap. Thus ends my play, sir.
Fust. Pray, Mr Trapwit, how has the former part of it conduced to this marriage?
Trap. Why, sir, do you think the colonel would ever have had her but on the prospect her father has from this election?
Sneer. Ay, or to strengthen his interest with the returning officer?
Trap. Ay, sir, I was just going to say so.
Sneer. But where's your epilogue?
Trap. Faith, sir, I can't tell what I shall do for an epilogue.
Sneer. What I have you writ none?
Trap. Yes, faith, I have writ one, but——
Sneer. But what?
Trap. Faith, sir, I can get no one to speak it; the actresses are so damn'd difficult to please. When first I writ it they would not speak it, because there were not double-entendres enough in it; upon which I went to Mr Watt's and borrowed all his plays; went home, read over all the epilogues, and crammed it as full as possible; and now, forsooth, it has too many in it. Oons! I think we must get a pair of scales and weigh out a sufficient quantity of that same.
Fust. Come, come, Mr Trapwit, clear the stage, if you please.
Trap. With all my heart; for I have overstayed my time already; I am to read my play to-day to six different companies of quality.
Fust. You'll stay and see the tragedy rehearsed, I hope?
Trap. Faith, sir, it is my great misfortune that I can't; I deny myself a great pleasure, but cannot possibly stay—to hear such damn'd stuff as I know it must be. [Aside.
Sneer. Nay, dear Trapwit, you shall not go. Consider, your advice may be of some service to Mr Fustian; besides, he has stayed the rehearsal of your play——
Fust. Yes, I have—and kept myself awake with much difficulty. [Aside.
Trap. Nay, nay, you know I can't refuse you—though I shall certainly fall asleep in the first act. [Aside.
Sneer. If you'll let me know who your people of quality are, I'll endeavour to bring you off.
Trap. No, no, hang me if I tell you, ha, ha, ha! I know you too well—But prithee, now, tell me, Fustian, how dost thou like my play? dost think it will do?
Fust. 'Tis my opinion it will.
Trap. Give me a guinea, and I'll give you a crown a night as long as it runs.
Sneer. That's laying against yourself, Mr Trapwit.
Trap. I love a hedge, sir.
Fust. Before the rehearsal begins, gentlemen, I must beg your opinion of my dedication: you know, a dedication is generally a bill drawn for value therein contained; which value is a set of nauseous fulsome compliments which my soul abhors and scorns; for I mortally hate flattery, and therefore have carefully avoided it.
Sneer. Yes, faith, a dedication without flattery will be worth the seeing.
Fust. Well, sir, you shall see it. Read it, dear Trapwit; I hate to read my own works.
Trap. [Reads.] "My lord, at a time when nonsense, dullness, lewdness, and all manner of profaneness and immorality are daily practised on the stage, I have prevailed on my modesty to offer to your lordship's protection a piece which, if it has no merit to recommend it, has at least no demerit to disgrace it; nor do I question at this, when every one else is dull, you will be pleased to find one exception to the number.
"I cannot indeed help assuming to myself some little merit from the applause which the town has so universally conferred upon me."
Fust. That you know, Mr Sneer well, may be omitted, if it should meet with any ill-natured opposition; for which reason, I shall not print off my dedication till after the play is acted.
Trap. [Reads.] "I might here indulge myself with a delineation of your lordship's character; but as I abhor the least imputation of flattery, and as I am certain your lordship is the only person in this nation that does not love to hear your praises, I shall be silent—only this give me leave to say, That you have more wit, sense, learning, honour, and humanity, than all mankind put together; and your person comprehends in it everything that is beautiful; your air is everything that is graceful, your look everything that is majestic, and your mind is a storehouse where every virtue and every perfection are lodged: to pass by your generosity, which is so great, so glorious, so diffusive, that like the sun it eclipses, and makes stars of all your other virtues—I could say more——"
Sneer. Faith, sir, that's more than I could.
Trap. "But shall commit a violence upon myself, and conclude with assuring your lordship, that I am, my lord, your lordship's most obedient, most devoted, most obsequious, and most obliged humble servant."
Fust. There you see it, sir, concise, and not fulsome.
Sneer. Very true, sir, if you had said less it would not have done.
Fust. No, I think less would have been downright rude, considering it was to a person of the first quality.
Sneer. Prithee, Trap wit, let's see yours.
Trap. I have none, sir.
Fust. How, sir? no dedication?
Trap. No, sir, for I have dedicated so many plays, and received nothing for them, that I am resolved to trust no more; I'll let no more flattery go out of my shop without being paid beforehand.
Fust. Sir, flattery is so cheap, and every man of quality keeps so many flatterers about him, that egad our trade is quite spoil'd; but if I am not paid for this dedication, the next I write shall be a satirical one; if they won't pay me for opening my mouth, I'll make them pay me for shutting it. But since you have been so kind, gentlemen, to like my dedication, I'll venture to let you see my prologue. Sir, I beg the favour of you to repeat the prologue, if you are perfect in it. [To aPlayer.]
Play. Sir, I'll do it to the best of my power.
Fust. This prologue was writ by a friend.
When Death's sharp scythe has mowed the hero down,The muse again awakes him to renown;She tells proud Fate that all her darts are vain,And bids the hero live and strut about again:Nor is she only able to restore,But she can make what ne'er was made before;Can search the realms of Fancy, and createWhat never came into the brain of Fate.
Forth from these realms, to entertain to-night,She brings imaginary kings and queens to light,Bids Common Sense in person mount the stage,And Harlequin to storm in tragick rage.Britons, attend; and decent reverence shewTo her, who made th' Athenian bosoms glow;Whom the undaunted Romans could revere,And who in Shakespeare's time was worshipp'd here:If none of these can her success presage,Your hearts at least a wonder may engage:Oh I love her like her sister monsters of the age.
Sneer. Faith, sir, your friend has writ a very fine prologue.
Fust. Do you think so? Why then, sir, I must assure you, that friend is no other than myself. But come, now for the tragedy. Gentlemen, I must desire you all to clear the stage, for I have several scenes which I could wish it was as big again for.
2d Playerenters and whispersTRAPWIT.
2Play. Sir, a gentlewoman desires to speak to you.
Trap. Is she in a chair?
2 Play. No, sir, she is in a riding-hood, and says she has brought you a clean shirt. [Exit.
Trap. I'll come to her.—Mr Fustian, you must excuse me a moment; a lady of quality hath sent to take some boxes. [Exit.
Promp. Common Sense, sir, desires to speak with you in the green-room.
Fust. I'll wait upon her.
Sneer. You ought, for it is the first message, I believe, you ever received from her. [Aside. [ExeuntFus.andSNEER.
Entera Dancer.
Dane. Look'e, Mr Prompter, I expect to dance first goddess; I will not dance under Miss Minuet; I am sure I shew more to the audience than any lady upon the stage.
Promp. Madam, it is not my business.
Dane. I don't know whose business it is; but I think the town ought to be the judges of a dancer's merit; I am sure they are on my side; and if I am not used better, I'll go to France; for now we have got all their dancers away, perhaps they may be glad of some of ours.
Promp. Heyday! what's the matter? [A noise within.
EnterPlayer.
Play. The author and Common Sense are quarrelling in the green-room.
Promp. Nay, then, that's better worth seeing than anything in the play. [ExitPromp.
Danc. Hang this play, and all plays; the dancers are the only people that support the house; if it were not for us they might act their Shakspeare to empty benches.
Fust. These little things, Mr Sneerwell, will sometimes happen. Indeed a poet undergoes a great deal before he comes to his third night; first with the muses, who are humorous ladies, and must be attended; for if they take it into their head at any time to go abroad and leave you, you will pump your brain in vain: then, sir, with the master of a playhouse to get it acted, whom you generally follow a quarter of a year before you know whether he will receive it or no; and then, perhaps, he tells you it won't do, and returns it to you again, reserving the subject, and perhaps the name, which he brings out in his next pantomime; but if he should receive the play, then you must attend again to get it writ out into parts and rehearsed. Well, sir, at last, the rehearsals begin; then, sir, begins another scene of trouble with the actors, some of whom don't like their parts, and all are continually plaguing you with alterations: at length, after having waded through all these difficulties, his play appears on the stage, where one man hisses out of resentment to the author, a second out of dislike to the house, a third out of dislike to the actor, a fourth out of dislike to the play, a fifth for the joke sake, a sixth to keep all the rest in company. Enemies abuse him, friends give him up, the play is damned, and the author goes to the devil: so ends the farce.
Sneer. The tragedy, rather, I think, Mr Fustian. But what's become of Trapwit?
Fust. Gone off, I suppose; I knew he would not stay; he is so taken up with his own performances, that he has no time to attend any others. But come, Prompter, will the tragedy never begin?
EnterPrompter.
Promp. Yes, sir, they are all ready; come, draw up the curtain.
[FIREBRAND, LAW,andPHYSICKdiscovered.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, who are these personages?
Fust. That in the middle, sir, is Firebrand, priest of the Sun; he on the right represents Law, and he on the left Physick.
Fireb. Avert these omens, ye auspicious stars!
Fust. What omens? where the devil is the thunder and lightning!
Promp. Why don't you let go the thunder there, and flash your rosin? [Thunder and lightning.
Fust. Now, sir, begin if you please. I desire, sir, you will get a larger thunderbowl and two pennyworth more of lightning against the representation. Now, sir, if you please.
Fireb. Avert these omens, ye auspicious stars!O Law! O Physick! As last, even late,I offer'd sacred incense in the temple,The temple shook—strange prodigies appeared;A cat in boots did dance a rigadoon,While a huge dog play'd on the violin;And whilst I trembling at the altar stood,Voices were heard i' th' air, and seem'd to say,"Awake, my drowsy sons, and sleep no more."They must mean something!—
Law. Certainly they must.We have our omens too! The other dayA mighty deluge swam into our hall,As if it meant to wash away the law:Lawyers were forced to ride on porters' shoulders:One, O prodigious omen! tumbled down,And he and all his briefs were sous'd together.Now, if I durst my sentiments declare,I think it is not hard to guess the meaning.
Fireb. Speak boldly; by the powers I serve, I swearYou speak in safety, even though you speakAgainst the gods, provided that you speakNot against priests.
Law. What then can the powersMean by these omens, but to rouse us upFrom the lethargick sway of Common Sense?And well they urge, for while that drowsy queenMaintains her empire, what becomes of us?
Phys. My lord of Law, you speak my sentiments;For though I wear the mask of loyalty,And outward shew a reverence to the queen,Yet in my heart I hate her: yes, by heaven,She stops my proud ambition! keeps me downWhen I would soar upon an eagle's wing,And thence look down, and dose the world below.
Law. Thou know'st, my lord of Physick, I had longBeen privileged by custom immemorial,In tongues unknown, or rather none at all,My edicts to deliver through the land;When this proud queen, this Common Sense abridgedMy power, and made me understood by all.
Phys. My lord, there goes a rumour through the courtThat you descended from a familyRelated to the queen; Reason is saidT' have been the mighty founder of your house.
Law. Perhaps so; but we have raised ourselves so high, And shook this founder from us off so far, We hardly deign to own from whence we came.
Fireb. My lords of Law and Physick, I have heardWith perfect approbation all you've said:And since I know you men of noble spirit,And fit to undertake a glorious cause,I will divulge myself: know, through this mask,Which to impose on vulgar minds I wear,I am an enemy to Common Sense;But this not for Ambition's earthly cause,But to enlarge the worship of the Sun;To give his priests a just degree of power,And more than half the profits of the land.Oh! my good lord of Law, would'st thou assist,In spite of Common Sense it may be done.
Law. Propose the method.
Fireb. Here, survey this list.In it you'll find a certain set of names,Whom well I know sure friends to Common Sense;These it must be our care to representThe greatest enemies to the gods and her.But hush! the queen approaches.
EnterQueen COMMON SENSE,attended by twoMaids of Honour.
Fust. What! but two maids of honour?
Promp. Sir, a Jew carried off the other, but I shall be able to pick up some more against the play is acted.
Q. C. S. My lord of Law, I sent for you this morning;I have a strange petition given to me.Two men, it seems, have lately been at lawFor an estate, which both of them have lost,And their attorneys now divide between them.
Law. Madam, these things will happen in the law.
Q. C. S. Will they, my lord? then better we had none:But I have also heard a sweet bird sing,That men unable to discharge their debtsAt a short warning, being sued for them,Have, with both power and will their debts to pay,Lain all their lives in prison for their costs.
Law. That may, perhaps, be some poor person's case, Too mean to entertain your royal ear.
Q. C. S. My lord, while I am queen I shall not thinkOne man too mean or poor to be redress'd.Moreover, lord, I am informed your lawsAre grown so large, and daily yet increase,That the great age of old MethusalemWould scarce suffice to read your statutes out.
Fireb. Madam, a more important cause demandsYour royal care; strange omens have appear'd;Sights have been seen, and voices have been heard,The gods are angry, and must be appeas'd;Nor do I know to that a readier wayThan by beginning to appease their priests,Who groan for power, and cry out after honour.
Q. C. S. The gods, indeed, have reason for their anger,And sacrifices shall be offer'd to them;But would you make 'em welcome, priest, be meek,Be charitable, kind, nor dare affrontThe Sun you worship, while yourselves preventThat happiness to men you ask of him.
Enter anOfficer.
Q. C. S. What means this hasty message in your looks?
Offic. Forgive me, madam, if my tongue declaresNews for your sake, which most my heart abhors;Queen Ignorance is landed in your realm,With a vast power from Italy and FranceOf singers, fidlers, tumblers, and rope-dancers.
Q. C. S. Order our army instantly to getThemselves in readiness; our self will head 'em.My lords, you are concerned as well as weT'oppose this foreign force, and we expectYou join us with your utmost levies straight.Go, priest, and drive all frightful omens hence;To fright the vulgar they are your pretence,But sure the gods will side with Common Sense.
[Exit cum suis.
Fireb. They know their interest better; or at leastTheir priests do for 'em, and themselves. Oh! lords,This queen of Ignorance, whom you have heardJust now described in such a horrid form,Is the most gentle and most pious queen;So fearful of the gods, that she believesWhate'er their priests affirm. And by the Sun,Faith is no faith if it falls short of that.I'd be infallible; and that, I know,Will ne'er be granted me by Common Sense:Wherefore I do disclaim her, and will joinThe cause of Ignorance. And now, my lords,Each to his post. The rostrum I ascend;My lord of Law, you to your courts repair;And you, my good lord Physick, to the queen;Handle her pulse, potion and pill her well.
Phys. Oh! my good lord, had I her royal ear,Would she but take the counsel I would give,You'd need no foreign power to overthrow her:Yes, by the gods! I would with one small pillUnhinge her soul, and tear it from her body;But to my art and me a deadly foe,She has averr'd, ay, in the publick court,That Water Gruel is the best physician;For which, when she's forgiven by the college,Or when we own the sway of Common Sense,May we be forced to take our own prescriptions!
Fireb. My lord of Physick, I applaud thy spirit.Yes, by the Sun, my heart laughs loud within me,To see how easily the world's deceived;To see this Common Sense thus tumbled downBy men whom all the cheated nations ownTo be the strongest pillars of her throne.
[ExeuntFIREB., LAW,andPHYS.
Fust. Thus ends the first act, sir.
Sneer. This tragedy of yours, Mr Fustian, I observe to be emblematical; do you think it will be understood by the audience?
Fust. Sir, I cannot answer for the audience; though I think the panegyrick intended by it is very plain and very seasonable.
Sneer. What panegyrick?
Fust. On our clergy, sir, at least the best of them, to shew the difference between a heathen and a Christian priest. And, as I have touched only on generals, I hope I shall not be thought to bring anything improper on the stage, which I would carefully avoid.
Sneer. But is not your satire on law and physick somewhat too general?
Fust. What is said here cannot hurt either an honest lawyer or a good physician; and such may be, nay, I know such are: if the opposites to these are the most general I cannot help that; as for the professors themselves, I have no great reason to be their friend, for they once joined in a particular conspiracy against me.
Sneer. Ah, how so?
Fust. Why, an apothecary brought me in a long bill, and a lawyer made me pay it.
Sneer. Ha, ha, ha! a conspiracy, indeed!
Fust. Now, sir, for my second act; my tragedy consists but of three.
Sneer. I thought that had been immethodical in tragedy.
Fust. That may be; but I spun it out as long as I could keep Common Sense alive; ay, or even her ghost. Come, begin the second act.
The scene draws and discoversQUEEN COMMON SENSEasleep.
Sneer. Pray, sir, who's that upon the couch there?
Fust. I thought you had known her better, sir: that's Common Sense asleep.
Sneer. I should rather have expected her at the head of her army.
Fust. Very likely, but you do not understand the practical rules of writing as well as I do; the first and greatest of which is protraction, or the art of spinning, without which the matter of a play would lose the chief property of all other matter, namely, extension; and no play, sir, could possibly last longer than half an hour. I perceive, Mr Sneerwell, you are one of those who would have no character brought on but what is necessary to the business of the play.—Nor I neither—But the business of the play, as I take it, is to divert, and therefore every character that diverts is necessary to the business of the play.
Sneer. But how will the audience be brought to conceive any probable reason for this sleep?
Fust. Why, sir, she has been meditating on the present general peace of Europe, till by too intense an application, being not able thoroughly to comprehend it, she was overpowered and fell fast asleep. Come, ring up the first ghost. [Ghost arises.] You know that ghost?
Sneer. Upon my word, sir, I can't recollect any acquaintance with him.
Fust. I am surprized at that, for you must have seen him often: that's the ghost of Tragedy, sir; he has walked all the stages of London several years; but why are not you floured?—What the devil is become of the barber?
Ghost. Sir, he's gone to Drury-lane playhouse to shave the Sultan in the new entertainment.
Fust. Come, Mr Ghost, pray begin.
Ghost. From the dark regions of the realms belowThe ghost of Tragedy has ridden post;To tell thee, Common Sense, a thousand things,Which do import thee nearly to attend: [Cock crows.But, ha! the cursed cock has warn'd me hence;I did set out too late, and therefore mustLeave all my business to some other time.
[Ghost descends.
Sneer. I presume this is a character necessary to divert; for I can see no great business he has fulfilled.
Fust. Where's the second ghost?
Sneer. I thought the cock had crowed.
Fust. Yes, but the second ghost need not be supposed to have heard it. Pray, Mr Prompter, observe, the moment the first ghost descends the second is to rise: they are like the twin stars in that.
[2Ghost rises.
2Ghost. Awake, great Common Sense, and sleep no more.Look to thyself; for then, when I was slain,Thyself was struck at; think not to surviveMy murder long; for while thou art on earth,The convocation will not meet again.The lawyers cannot rob men of their rights;Physicians cannot dose away their souls;A courtier's promise will not be believed;Nor broken citizens again be trusted.A thousand newspapers cannot subsistIn which there is not any news at all.Playhouses cannot flourish, while they dareTo nonsense give an entertainment's name.Shakspeare, and Jonson, Dryden, Lee, and Rowe,Thou wilt not bear to yield to Sadler's Wells;Thou wilt not suffer men of wit to starve,And fools, for only being fools, to thrive.Thou wilt not suffer eunuchs to be hiredAt a vast price, to be impertinent.[3Ghost rises.
3Ghost. Dear ghost, the cock has crow'd; you cannot get Under the ground a mile before 'tis day.
2Ghost. Your humble servant then, I cannot stay.[Ghost descends.
Fust. Thunder and lightning! thunder and lightning! Pray don't forget this when it is acted.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, why must a ghost always rise in a storm of thunder and lightning? for I have read much of that doctrine and don't find any mention of such ornaments.
Fust. That may be, but they are very necessary: they are indeed properly the paraphernalia of a ghost.
Sneer. But, pray, whose ghost was that?
Fust. Whose should it be but Comedy's? I thought, when you had been told the other was Tragedy, you would have wanted no intimation who this was. Come, Common Sense, you are to awake and rub your eyes.
Q. C. S. [Waking.] Who's there?—
EnterMaid of Honour.
Did you not hear or see some wond'rous thing?
Maid. No, may it please your majesty, I did not.
Q. C. S. I was a-dream'd I overheard a ghost.
Maid. In the next room I closely did attend, And had a ghost been here I must have heard him.
EnterFIREBRAND.
Q. C. S. Priest of the Sun, you come most opportune,For here has been a dreadful apparition:As I lay sleeping on my couch, methoughtI saw a ghost.
Sneer. Then I suppose she sleeps with her eyes open.
Fust. Why, you would not have Common Sense see a ghost, unless in her sleep, I hope.
Fireb. And if such tolerationBe suffer'd as at present you maintain,Shortly your court will be a court of ghosts.Make a huge fire and burn all unbelievers:Ghosts will be hang'd ere venture near a fire.
Q. C. S. Men cannot force belief upon themselves, And shall I then by torture force it on them?
Fireb. The Sun will have it so.
Q. C. S. How do I know that?
Fireb. Why I, his priest infallible, have told you.
Q. C. S. How do I know you are infallible?
Fireb. Ha! do you doubt it! nay, if you doubt that,I will prove nothing. But my zeal inspires me,And I will tell you, madam, you yourselfAre a most deadly enemy to the Sun;And all his priests have greatest cause to wishYou had been never born.
Q. C. S. Ha! sayest thou, priest?Then know, I honour and adore the Sun:And when I see his light, and feel his warmth,I glow with flaming gratitude towards him;But know, I never will adore a priest,Who wears pride's face beneath religion's mask,And makes a pick-lock of his pietyTo steal away the liberty of mankind:But while I live, I'll never give thee power.
Fireb. Madam, our power is not derived from you,Nor any one: 'twas sent us in a boxFrom the great Sun himself, and carriage paid:Phaeton brought it when he overturn'dThe chariot of the Sun into the sea.
Q. C. S. Shew me the instrument and let me read it.
Fireb. Madam, you cannot read it, for, being thrown Into the sea, the water has so damaged it That none but priests could ever read it since.
Q. C. S. And do you think I can believe this tale?
Fireb. I order you to believe it, and you must.
Q. C. S. Proud and imperious man, I can't believe it.Religion, law, and physick, were design'dBy heaven the greatest blessings on mankind;But priests, and lawyers, and physicians, madeThese general goods to each a private trade;With each they rob, with each they fill their purses,And turn our benefits into our curses. [Exit.
Fust. Law and Physick. Where's Law?
EnterPHYSIC.
Phys. Sir, Law, going without the playhouse passage, was taken up by a lord chief-justice's warrant.
Fireb. Then we must go on without him.
Fust. No, no, stay a moment; I must get somebody else to rehearse the part. Pox take all warrants for me! if I had known this before I would have satirized the law ten times more than I have.
Fust. I am glad you have made your escape; but I hope you will make the matter up before the day of action: come, Mr Firebrand, now if you please go on; the moment Common Sense goes off the stage Law and Physick enter.
Fireb. Oh! my good lords of Physick and of Law,Had you been sooner here you would have heardThe haughty queen of Common Sense throw outAbuses on us all.
Law. I am not nowTo learn the hatred which she bears to me.No more of that—for now the warlike queenOf Ignorance, attended with a trainOf foreigners, all foes to Common Sense,Arrives at Covent-garden; and we oughtTo join her instantly with all our force.At Temple-bar some regiments parade;The colonels, Clifford, Thavies, and Furnival,Through Holborn lead their powers to Drury-lane,Attorneys all compleatly armed in brass:These, bailiffs and their followers will join,With justices, and constables, and watchmen.
Phys. In Warwick-lane my powers expect me now:A hundred chariots with a chief in each,Well-famed for slaughter, in his hand he bearsA feather'd dart that seldom errs in flight.Next march a band of choice apothecaries,Each arm'd with deadly pill; a regimentOf surgeons terrible maintain the rear.All ready first to kill, and then dissect.
Fireb. My lords, you merit greatly of the queen,And Ignorance shall well repay your deeds;For I foretel that by her influenceMen shall be brought (what scarce can be believed)To bribe you with large fees to their undoing.Success attend your glorious enterprize;I'll go and beg it earnest of the Sun:I, by my office, am from fight debarr'd,But I'll be with you ere the booty's shared.
[ExeuntFIREBRAND, LAW,andPHYSICK
Fust. Now, Mr Sneerwell, we shall begin my third and last act; and I believe I may defy all the poets who have ever writ, or ever will write, to produce its equal: it is, sir, so crammed with drums and trumpets, thunder and lightning, battles and ghosts, that I believe the audience will want no entertainment after it: it is as full of shew as Merlin's cave itself; and for wit—no rope-dancing or tumbling can come near it. Come, begin.
[A ridiculous march is played.
EnterQueen IGNORANCE,attended withSingers, Fidlers, Rope-dancers, Tumblers, &c.
Q. Ign. Here fix our standard; what is this place called?
1_Att_. Great madam, Covent-garden is its name.
Q. Ign. Ha! then methinks we have ventured too far,Too near those theatres where Common SenseMaintains her garrisons of mighty force;Who, should they sally on us ere we're joinedBy Law and Physick, may offend us much.
[Drum beats within.
But ha! what means this drum?
1_Att_. It beats a parley, not a point of war
EnterHARLEQUIN.
Harl. To you, great queen of Ignorance, I comeEmbassador from the two theatres;Who both congratulate you on your arrival;And to convince you with what hearty meaningThey sue for your alliance, they have sentTheir choicest treasure here as hostages,To be detain'd till you are well convincedThey're not less foes to Common Sense than you.
Q. Ign. Where are the hostages?
Harl. Madam, I have broughtA catalogue, and all therein shall beDeliver'd to your order; but consider,Oh mighty queen! they offer you their all;And gladly for the least of these would giveTheir poets and their actors in exchange.
Q. Ign. Read the catalogue.
Harl. [Reads.] "A tall man, and a tall woman, hired at a vast price. A strong man exceeding dear. Two dogs that walk on their hind legs only, and personate human creatures so well, they might be mistaken for them. A human creature that personates a dog so well that he might almost be taken for one. Two human cats. A most curious set of puppies. A pair of pigeons. A set of rope-dancers and tumblers from Sadler's-wells."
Q. Ign. Enough, enough; and is it possibleThat they can hold alliance with my friendsOf Sadler's-wells? then are they foes indeedTo Common Sense, and I'm indebted to 'em.Take back their hostages, for they may need 'em;And take this play, and bid 'em forthwith act it;There is not in it either head or tail.
Harl. Madam, they will most gratefully receive it. The character you give would recommend it, Though it had come from a less powerful hand.
Q. Ign. The Modish Couple is its name; myself Stood gossip to it, and I will support This play against the town.
I Att. Madam, the queen Of Common Sense advances with her powers.
Q. Ign. Draw up my men, I'll meet her as I ought; This day shall end the long dispute between us.
EnterQueen COMMON SENSEwith aDrummer.
Fust. Hey-day! where's Common Sense's army?
Promp. Sir, I have sent all over the town, and could not get one soldier for her, except that poor drummer, who was lately turned out of an Irish regiment.
Drum. Upon my shoul but I have been a drummer these twenty years, master, and have seen no wars yet; and I was willing to learn a little of my trade before I died.
Fust. Hush, sirrah! don't you be witty; that is not in your part.
Drum. I don't know what is in my part, sir; but T desire to have something in it; for I have been tired of doing nothing a great while.
Fust. Silence!
Q. C. S. What is the reason, madam, that you bring These hostile arms into my peaceful realm?
_Q. Ign. To ease your subjects from that dire oppression They groan beneath, which longer to support Unable, they invited my redress.
Q. C. S. And can my subjects then complain of wrong? Base and ungrateful! what is their complaint?
Q. Ign. They say you do impose a tax of thought Upon their minds, which they're too weak to bear.
Q. C. S. Wouldst thou from thinking then absolve mankind?
Q. Ign. I would, for thinking only makes men wretched;And happiness is still the lot of fools.Why should a wise man wish to think, when thoughtStill hurts his pride; in spite of all his art,Malicious fortune, by a lucky trainOf accidents, shall still defeat his schemes,And set the greatest blunderer above him.
Q. C. S. Urgest thou that against me, which thyselfHas been the wicked cause of? Which thy power,Thy artifice, thy favourites have done?Could Common Sense bear universal sway,No fool could ever possibly be great.
Q. Ign. What is this folly, which you try to paintIn colours so detestable and black?Is't not the general gift of fate to men?And though some few may boast superior sense,Are they not call'd odd fellows by the rest?In any science, if this sense peep forth,Shew men the truth, and strive to turn their stepsFrom ways wherein their gross forefathers err'd,Is not the general cry against them straight?
Sneer. This Ignorance, Mr Fustian, seems to know a great deal.
Fust. Yes, sir, she knows what she has seen so often; but you find she mistakes the cause, and Common Sense can never beat it into her.
Q. Ign. Sense is the parent still of fear; the fox,Wise beast, who knows the treachery of men,Flies their society, and skulks in woods,While the poor goose, in happiness and ease,Fearless grows fat within its narrow coop,And thinks the hand that feeds it is its friend;Then yield thee, Common Sense, nor rashly dareTry a vain combat with superior force.
Q. C. S. Know, queen, I never will give up the causeOf all these followers: when at the headOf all these heroes I resign my right,May my curst name be blotted from the earth!
Sneer. Methinks, Common Sense, though, ought to give it up, when she has no more to defend it.
Fust. It does indeed look a little odd at present; but I'll get her an army strong enough against its acted. Come, go on.
Q. Ign. Then thus I hurl defiance at thy head. Draw all your swords.
Q. C. S. And, gentlemen, draw yours.
Q. Ign. Fall on; have at thy heart.
[A fight
Q. C. S. And have at thine.
Fust. Oh, fie upon't, fie upon't! I never saw a worse battle in all my life upon any stage. Pray, gentlemen, come some of you over to the other side.
Sneer. These are Swiss soldiers, I perceive, Mr Fustian; they care not which side they fight of.
Fust. Now, begin again, if you please, and fight away; pray fight as if you were in earnest, gentlemen. [They fight.] Oons, Mr Prompter! I fancy you hired these soldiers out of the trained bands—they are afraid to fight even in jest. [They fight again.] There, there—pretty well. I think, Mr Sneerwell, we have made a shift to make out a good sort of a battle at last.
Sneer. Indeed I cannot say I ever saw a better.
Fust. You don't seem, Mr Sneerwell, to relish this battle greatly.
Sneer. I cannot profess myself the greatest admirer of this part of tragedy; and I own my imagination can better conceive the idea of a battle from a skilful relation of it than from such a representation; for my mind is not able to enlarge the stage into a vast plain, nor multiply half a score into several thousands.
Fust. Oh; your humble servant! but if we write to please you and half a dozen others, who will pay the charges of the house? Sir, if the audience will be contented with a battle or two, instead of all the raree-fine shows exhibited to them in what they call entertainments——
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, how came they to give the name of entertainments to their pantomimical farces?
Fust. Faith, sir, out of their peculiar modesty; intimating that after the audience had been tired with the dull works of Shakspeare, Jonson, Vanbrugh, and others, they are to be entertained with one of these pantomimes, of which the master of the playhouse, two or three painters, and half a score dancing-masters are the compilers. What these entertainments are, I need not inform you, who have seen 'em; but I have often wondered how it was possible for any creature of human understanding, after having been diverted for three hours with the production of a great genius, to sit for three more and see a set of people running about the stage after one another, without speaking one syllable, and playing several juggling tricks, which are done at Fawks's after a much better manner; and for this, sir, the town does not only pay additional prices, but loses several fine parts of its best authors, which are cut out to make room for the said farces.
Sneer. 'Tis very true; and I have heard a hundred say the same thing, who never failed being present at them.
Fust. And while that happens, they will force any entertainment upon the town they please, in spite of its teeth. [Ghost ofCOMMON SENSErises.] Oons, and the devil, madam! what's the meaning of this? You have left out a scene. Was ever such an absurdity as for your ghost to appear before you are killed.
Q. C. S. I ask pardon, sir; in the hurry of the battle I forgot to come and kill myself.
Fust. Well, let me wipe the flour off your face then. And now, if you please, rehearse the scene; take care you don't make this mistake any more though, for it would inevitably damn the play if you should. Go to the corner of the scene, and come in as if you had lost the battle.
Q. C. S. Behold the ghost of Common Sense appears.
Fust. 'Sdeath, madam, I tell you you are no ghost—you are not killed.
Q. C. S. Deserted and forlorn, where shall I fly. The battle's lost, and so are all my friends.
Enter aPoet.
Poet. Madam, not so; still you have one friend left.
Q. C. S. Why, what art thou?
Poet. Madam, I am a poet.
Q. C. S. Whoe'er thou art, if thou'rt a friend to misery, Know Common Sense disclaims thee.
Poet. I have been damn'd Because I was your foe, and yet I still Courted your friendship with my utmost art.
Q. C. S. Fool! thou wert damn'd because thou didst pretendThyself my friend; for hadst thou boldly dared,Like Hurlothrumbo, to deny me quite,Or, like an opera or pantomime,Profess'd the cause of Ignorance in publick,Thou might'st have met with thy desired success;But men can't bear even a pretence to me.
Poet. Then take a ticket for my benefit night.
Q. C. S. I will do more—for Common Sense will stay Quite from your house, so may you not be damn'd.
Poet. Ha! say'st thou? By my soul, a better playNe'er came upon a stage; but, since you dareContemn me thus, I'll dedicate my playTo Ignorance, and call her Common Sense:Yes, I will dress her in your pomp, and swearThat Ignorance knows more than all the world. [Exit.
EnterFIREBRAND.
Fireb. Thanks to the Sun for this desired encounter.
Q. C. S. Oh, priest! all's lost; our forces are o'erthrown— Some gasping lie, but most are run away.
Fireb. I knew it all before, and told you too The Sun has long been out of humour with you.
Q. C. S. Dost thou, then, lay upon the Sun the faults Of all those cowards who forsook my cause?
Fireb. Those cowards all were most religious men: And I beseech thee, Sun, to shine upon them.
Q. C. S. Oh, impudence! and darest thou to my face?—
Fireb. Yes, I dare more; the Sun presents you this, [Stabs her. Which I, his faithful messenger, deliver.
Q. C. S. Oh, traytor! thou hast murder'd Common Sense.Farewel, vain world! to Ignorance I give thee,Her leaden sceptre shall henceforward rule.Now, priest, indulge thy wild ambitious thoughts;Men shall embrace thy schemes, till thou hast drawnAll worship from the Sun upon thyself:Henceforth all things shall topsy-turvy turn;Physick shall kill, and Law enslave the world;Cits shall turn beaus, and taste Italian songs,While courtiers are stock-jobbing in the city.Places requiring learning and great partsHenceforth shall all be hustled in a hat,And drawn by men deficient in them both.Statesmen—but oh! cold death will let me sayNo more—and you must guesset caetera. [Dies.
Fireb. She's gone! but ha! it may beseem me illT' appear her murderer. I'll therefore layThis dagger by her side; and that will beSufficient evidence, with a little money,To make the coroner's inquest find self-murder.I'll preach her funeral sermon, and deploreHer loss with tears, praise her with all my art.Good Ignorance will still believe it all. [Exit.
EnterQueen IGNORANCE, &c.
Q. Ign. Beat a retreat; the day is now our own;The powers of Common Sense are all destroy'd;Those that remain are fled away with her.I wish, Mr Fustian, this speech be common sense.
Sneer. How the devil should it, when she's dead?
Fust. One would think so, when a cavil is made against the best thing in the whole play; and I would willingly part with anything else but those two lines.
Harl. Behold! where welt'ring in her blood she lies. I wish, sir, you would cut out that line, or alter it, if you please.
Fust. That's another line that I won't part with; I would consent to cut out anything but the chief beauties of my play.
Harl. Behold the bloody dagger by her side, With which she did the deed.
Q. Ign. 'Twas nobly done!I envy her her exit, and will payAll honours to her dust. Bear hence her body,And let her lie in state in Goodman's fields.
EnterMessenger.
Mess. Madam, I come an envoy from Crane-court.The great society that there assembleCongratulate your victory, and requestThat firm alliance henceforth may subsistBetween your majesty's societyOf Grub-street and themselves: they rather begThat they may be united both in one.They also hope your majesty's acceptanceOf certain curiosities, which inThat hamper are contain'd, wherein you'll findA horse's tail, which has a hundred hairsMore than are usual in it; and a toothOf elephant full half an inch too long;With turnpike-ticket like an ancient coin.
Q. Ign. We gratefully accept their bounteous gifts,And order they be kept with proper care,Till we do build a place most fit to holdThese precious toys: tell your societyWe ever did esteem them of great worth,And our firm friends: and tell 'em 'tis our pleasureThey do prepare to dance a jig before us.[ExitMessenger
My lords of Law and Physick, you shall findI will not be ungrateful for your service:To you, good Harlequin, and your allies,And you, Squeekaronelly, I will beA most propitious queen—But ha![Music under the stage.What hideous music or what yell is this?Sure 'tis the ghost of some poor opera tune.