Chapter 57

treatment of the situation, it must, I think, be allowed that D’Urfey has managed the jest with far greater verve and spirit. Honest Tom D’Urfey is in fact one of the least read and most maligned of all our dramatists. He had the merriest comic gifts, and perhaps when the critics and literary historians deign to read his plays he will attain a higher position in our theatrical libraries.

Some critics have suggested that D’Urfey, in his _The Intrigues at Versailles_, produced at Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 1697, may have taken a hint from Mrs. Behn’s Mirtilla, and Wycherley’s Olivia (_The Plain Dealer_) for his ‘Madame de Vandosme a right jilt in all humours’, a rôle created by Mrs. Barry. There is indeed some resemblance between all these three characters, base heartless coquettes; and D’Urfey, in making his jilt prefer Sir Blunder Bosse, ‘a dull sordid brute and mongrel, whose humour is to call everybody by clownish names’, to all her other gallants, seems not to have forgotten Mirtilla’s marriage with Sir Morgan Blunder. The very names call attention to the plagiarism. _The Intrigues at Versailles_ is none the less a clever and witty comedy, but a little overcrowded with incident and business.

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

As sufficiently explained by Gildon, under whose auspices this posthumous play was produced at Drury Lane in 1696, _The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt_ met with brutal treatment from the audience. There appears to have been a faction, particularly in evidence at its first performance and on the third day, who were steadfastly resolved to damn the comedy, and in spite of fine acting and every advantage it was hissed from the boards. Gildon attributes the failure to ‘the tedious Scenes in Blank Verse betwixt Mirtilla and Prince Frederick’ which he thinks demanded ‘another more easy Dress,’ but, in truth, it can only be attributed to the most verjuiced spite and personal malice. The plot, though somewhat complicated with perhaps a press of crowding incidents, is none the less highly interesting, and the characters are most of them excellently, all well, drawn and sustained. The fact that certain episodes had to be cut in representation in order to bring the comedy within a reasonable time limit, though it may have tended to obscure the connection of the intrigue, could not have insured in spite of its many real merits so absolute a doom for the much maltreated play, a sentence which seems to have wantonly precluded any revival.

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY

TO

Collonel Codrington.

The unjust Sentence this Play met with before very partial Judges in the Acting, will, I’m pretty sure, be revers’d by the more unprejudiced Readers, and it’s evident, Merit will exert itself so far, as to justify my Presumption in Dedicating it, notwithstanding its small success, to you, Sir, for whom I must always profess the highest Esteem and Value, sprung from that Nobleness of your Nature that takes a God-like Delight in redressing the Misfortunes of ‘em, more than fly to you for their unhappiness; a generous Soul indeed, never gives a greater Proof of her Excellence, than in her Protection of the Unfortunate; for tho suffering Merit challenges a Regard from all, yet it meets with it from none but such as you, Sir, who are so Eminent for that Vertue, which more than all the rest, commands the Esteem and Veneration of the Thinking World, your Generosity I mean, Sir, which gives the most Perfect Touches of that likeness, man can have to his Almighty Original; for those are but scurvey awkard Copies of Him that want it. ‘Tis, I may say, the very Essence of God, Who with our _Beings_, dispenses the grateful Knowledge of Himself in the Benefits He bestows.

The narrow Virtues of the Old Philosophers, [which] were rather Vices, if winnow’d well, form’d to gratify their Proud, Lazy, Superiority, at the Expence of all the Publick Duties incumbent on mankind, whom they pretend to Purge from his Passions, to make him happy, by that means to amuse our Curiosity with Chymera’s, whilst we lost our real Good, will still naturally flow from those Springs of Pleasure, Honour, Glory, and Noble Actions, the Passions given us by Heaven for our common Good. But their own Practice generally shew’d the Vanity of their Emperic Boasts, when they Buried all the Nobler Pleasures of the Mind in Avarice, and Pedantick Pride, as _Lucian_ has pleasantly made out in _Hermotimus_.

Those Notional Excellencies that divert us from, or weaken a Publick Spirit, are always False and Hypocritical, that under a gaudy out-side conceals a rotten Carcass, full of Infectious Distempers that destroy the noblest end of our Being, _The doing good to one another_. Vanity has always been the Refuge of little Souls, that place their Value in a False Greatness, Hyppocrisie, and great Titles. What a seeming Holiness does for the Avaritious, Designing Saint; Titles do for the proud Avarice of the meer Man of Quality, cheaply Purchasing a Respect from the many; but ‘tis the Generous man only that fixes himself in the Hearts of the most valuable part of mankind, when proper Merit only is esteem’d, and the Man, not his Equipage, and Accidental Appurtenances respected.

The Application of this, I shall leave to all that know you, Sir, who are all sensible what Virtues you make your Darlings, and choice of Virtue shews the Nobleness of our Temper, as much as Choice of Friends, the degrees of our Understandings; and if that be true that most Men choose those Virtues which are nearest a-kin to their Darling Vices, I’m sure ‘twill be a strong proof, that ev’n your Failings (for ev’ry Man has his share of them too) are more Beneficial to the world than the Vertues of a numerous part of Mankind. In Collonel _Codrington_ indeed, we find the true Spirit and Bravery of old _Rome_, that despises all dangers, that in the Race of Glory thou art the Noble Chace. Nor can the manly Roughness of your Martial Temper (Fierce to none but your Countries Foes) destroy that ingaging sweetness your agreeable Conversation abounds with, which heightened with so large a share of Wit, Learning, and Judgment, improves as well as delights; so that to have known you any way, must give us some advantage or other. This it was that encourag’d me to dedicate this Play, Sir, to you, of which I may venture to say more, and with more assurance, than if it had been my own.

Mrs. BEHN was a Woman so Accomplish’d, and of so Established a Fame among the Men of Sense, that I cou’d not suppose a very severe treatment from the Town, which has been very indulgent to the Performances of others; especially when, besides the Reputation of the _Author_, the Play itself had an Intrinsic Merit; for we find it full of Humour, Wit, and Variety; the Conversation Gay and Genteel, the Love Soft and Pathetic, the incidents Natural, and Easy, and the Conduct of the Plot very Justifiable. So that I may reasonably impute its miscarriage to some Faction that was made against it, which indeed was very Evident on the First day, and more on the endeavours employed, to render the Profits of the Third, as small as could be.

It suffer’d not, I’m sure, in the Action, nor in Mr. _Verbruggen’s_ reading of some of his Part, since he lost nothing of the Force of Elocution, nor Gracefulness of Action; nor indeed can I, with Justice to my self, impute it to any part that I ventur’d to add to the Original; for all the Alterations which I made were in the first Act, in removing that old bustle about _Whigg_ and _Tory_, (which was the Subject of most of the Second Scene) and placing the Character of a _Rake-hell_ in its room, which was so little, that it could not Influence a more Capricious Audience, to the Damning of the whole. There might indeed be some objections about the Plot, but not very Rational, I think; I’m sure, at least, ‘tis the first Play, for some Years, could be quarrell’d at for having too much Plot. In the Edition however I have put in a great deal, which the length of the Play oblig’d me to cut out for the Action.

Here, Sir, if the Play had been my own, I should have complain’d that the Town had its favourite Fools, as well as favourite Wits, and that Comedy or Farce from any other hand wou’d no more go down with them, than their favourites will with true Judges that read, not see ‘em. I should have had indignation enough, perhaps, to’ve rail’d at the Criticks of all Degrees, and Denominations of Box and Pit, nay, Galleries too, and told ‘em that they were so conceited of their own Wit, that they cou’d take no pleasure in hearing that of another, or that Wit in a Play seeming to affront the Parts of the Audience, they suffer’d their Resentment to destroy their Satisfaction. This, and a great many other Satyrical Reflections, which are natural for a Disappointed Poet to make, I shou’d then have vented; but being satisfy’d, that the Reputation of Mrs. BEHN is not affected by the malicious Endeavours of some of my Enemies, I now present it under your Patronage, Sir, to the more competent Judges; Proud of the Opportunity of Offering you an occasion of so agreeable a Province, as the Protection of the unfortunate, and letting the World know how much I am, Sir,

Your Humble Servant,

_CH. GILDON._

THE YOUNGER BROTHER;

or, The Amorous Jilt.

PROLOGUE,

By an unknown Hand.

Spoke by Mr. _Powell_.

As Rivals of each other jealous prove, And both strive which shall gain the Lady’s Love, So we for your Affections daily vie: Not an Intriguer in the Gallery (Who squeezes hand of _Phillis_ mask’d, that stood Ogling for Sale, in Velvet Scarf and Hood) Can with more Passion his dear Nymph pursue, Than we to make Diversion fit for you. Grant we may please, and we’ve our utmost Aim, ‘Tis to your Favour only we lay claim. In what can we oblige? Cou’d we present you With Mistress young, and safe, it wou’d content you; Then Husbands, weary’d out with Spouse alone, And hen-peck’d Keepers that drudge on with one, I fancy hither wou’d in Crouds resort, As thick as Men for Offices to Court: Who’d stay behind? the Beau above Threescore, Wou’d hobble on, and gape for one bit more; Men of all Stations, from the Nobles, down To grave Sir _Roger_ in his Cap and Gown, Wou’d hither come. But we some time must take, E’er we a Project of such moment make; Since that’s laid by, for your Diversion then, We do invite the Brothers of the Pen; The Courtier, Lawyer, Soldier, Player too, Wit n’er had more Encouragement than now; Though free, or Aliens to our Stage, we take ‘em, Not kick ‘em out, but native Subjects make ‘em. The Ladies too are always welcome here, Let ‘em in Writing or in Box appear. To that fair Sex we are oblig’d to day, Oh! then be kind to a poor Orphan-Play, Whose Parent while she liv’d oblig’d you all; You prais’d her living, and you mourn’d her Fall. Who cou’d, like her, our softer Passions move, The Life of Humour, and the Soul of Love? Wit’s eldest Sister; thro-out every Line, You might perceive some Female Graces shine. For poor _Astrea’s_ Infant we implore, Let it then live, though she is now no more.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN.

Prince _Frederick_, Mr. _Verbruggen_. Sir _Rowland Marteen_, Mr. _Johnson_. _George Marteen_, Mr. _Powell_. Mr. _Welborn_, Mr. _Horden_. Sir _Merlin Marteen_, Mr. _Pinkethman_. Sir _Morgan Blunder_, Mr. _Bullock_. Mr. _Twang_, Mr. _Smeaton_. _Britton_, Mr. _Kent_. _Philip_.

WOMEN.

_Mirtilla_, Mrs. _Knight_. _Olivia_, Mrs. _Verbruggen_. _Teresia_, Mrs. _Temple_. Lady _Blunder_, Mrs. _Powell_. Mrs. _Manage_, Mrs. _Willis_. Lady _Youthley_, Mrs. _Harris_. _Diana_.

Constable and Watch, Pages, Footmen, Masqueraders, Servants, Rakehells, &c.