ACT V.
Enter FOSSILE with a vial in his hand.
_Fos._ This is all we have for the flying dragon so celebrated by antiquity. A cheap purchase! It cost me but fifteen guineas. But the Jew made it up in the butterfly and the spider.
Enter two porters bearing a Mummy.
Oh! here's my mummy. Set him down. I am in haste. Tell captain Bantam, I'll talk with him at the coffee-house.
[_Exit porters._
Enter two porters bearing an Alligator.
A most stupendous animal! set him down.
[_Exit porters._
Poor lady Hippokekoana's convulsions! I believe there is fatality in it, that I can never get to her. Who can I trust my house to in my absence? Were my wife as chaste as Lucretia, who knows what an unlucky minute may bring forth! In cuckoldom, the art of attack is prodigiously improved beyond the art of defence. So far it is manifest, Underplot has a design upon my honour. For the ease of my mind, I will lock up my wife in this my musæum, 'till my return.
Enter TOWNLEY, and SARSNET.
You will find something here, my dear, to divert yourself.
_Town._ I hate the sight of these strange creatures; but since I am Mr. Fossiles wife, I shall endeavour to conquer my aversion.
_Foss._ Thou may'st safely be here to day, my dear; to-morrow thou shouldst no more enter this room than a pest-house. 'Tis dangerous for women that are impregnated. But poor lady Hippokekoana suffers all this while.
[_Exit Fossile with a key in his hand._
_Town._ Since he has lock'd me in, to be even with him, I'll bolt him out.
[_Plotwell dress'd like a Mummy, comes forward._
_Plot._
Thus trav'ling far from his Egyptian tomb, Thy Anthony salutes his Cleopatra.
_Town._
Thus Cleopatra, in desiring arms, Receives her Anthony----But prithee dear pickled Hieroglyphic, who so suddenly could assist thee with this shape.
_Plot._ The play-house can dress mummies, bears, lions, crocodiles, and all the monsters of Lybia. My arms madam are ready to break their past-board prison to embrace you.
_Town._ Not so hasty. Stay till the jealous fool is out of sight.
_Plot._ Our ill stars, and the devil, have brought him back so often
_Town._ He can never parry this blow, nor grow jealous of his mummy. A mummy is his intimate friend.
_Plot._ And a man cannot easily be cuckolded by any body else.
_Town._ Here may'st thou remain the ornament of his study, and the support of his old age. Thou shalt divert his company and be a father to his children. I will bring thee legs of pullets, remnants of tarts, and fragments of desarts. Thou shalt be fed like Bell and the Dragon.
_Plot._ But madam; before you entertain me as your mummy in ordinary, you ought to be acquainted with my abilities to discharge that office. Let me slip off this habit of death, you shall find I have some symptoms of life.----Thus Jove within the milk-white swan compress'd his Leda.
[_Underplot in the Alligator crawls forward, then rises up and embraces her._]
_Underp._
Thus Jove within the serpents scaly folds, Twin'd round the Macedonian queen,
_Town._ Ah!
[_shrieks._
_Plot._ Fear not, madam. This is my evil genius Underplot that still haunts me. How the devil got you here?
_Underp._ Why should not the play-house lend me a crocodile as well as you a mummy?
_Town._ How unlucky is this! [_Aside._] Nay, I don't know but I may have twenty lovers in this collection. You snakes, sharks, monkeys, and mantygers, speak, and put in your claim before it is too late.
_Underp._ Mr. Mummy, your humble servant; the lady is pre-engag'd.
_Plot._ Pray, Mr. Crocodile, let the lady make her own choice.
_Underp._ Crocodile as I am, I must be treated with common humanity. You can't, madam, disown the message you sent me.
_Town._ Well! ye pair of Egyptian lovers, agree this matter between you, and I will acquit myself like a person of honour to you both.
_Plot._ Madam! If I don't love you above all your sex, may I be banish'd the studies of virtuoso's; and smoak'd like dutch beef in a chimney----
_Underp._ If I don't love you more than that stale mummy, may I never more be proclaim'd at a show of monsters, by the sound of a glass-trumpet.
_Plot._ May I be sent to 'Pothecary's-hall, and beat up into venice treacle for the fleet and the army, if this heart----
_Underp._ May I be stuff'd with straw, and given to a mountebank, if this soul----
_Plot._ Madam I am a human creature. Taste my balsamick kiss.
_Underp._ A lover in swadling-clouts! What is his kiss, to my embrace?
_Plot._ Look upon me, madam. See how I am embroider'd with hieroglyphicks.
_Underp._ Consider my beautiful row of teeth.
_Plot._ My balmy breath.
_Underp._ The strong joints of my back.
_Plot._ My erect stature.
_Underp._ My long tail.
_Town._ Such a contest of beauty! How shall I decide it?
_Plot._ Take me out of my shell, madam, and I'll make you a present of the kernel.
_Underp._ Then I must be upon a level with him, and be uncrocodil'd.
_Town._ Keep both of you your shapes, and we are in no fear of a surprize from the doctor: If you uncase, his presence would undo us. Sure never was any thing so unlucky--I hear his foot-steps; quick to your posts.
[_Mummy and Crocodile run to their places._
Enter FOSSILE, Dr. _Nautilus_, and Dr. _Possum_.
_Naut._ Much joy to the learned Dr. Fossile. To have a mummy, an alligator, and a wife, all in one day, is too great happiness for mortal man!
_Poss._ This an alligator! Alack a day, brother Nautilus, this is a mere lizard, an eft, a shrimp to mine.
_Naut._ How improving would it be to the female understanding, if the closets of the ladies were furnish'd, or, as I may say, ornamented and embellish'd with preserv'd butterflies, and beautiful shells, instead of China jars, and absurd Indian pictures.
_Town._ Now for a stratagem to bring off my unsuccessful pair of gallants.
[_Aside._
[_Exit Townley._
_Foss._ Ah, Dr. Nautilus, how have I languish'd for your feather of the bird Porphyrion!
_Naut._ But your dart of the Mantichora!
_Foss._ Your haft of the antediluvian trowel, unquestionably the tool of one of the Babel masons!
_Naut._ What's that to your fragment of Seth's pillar?
_Poss._ Gentlemen, I affirm I have a greater curiosity than all of them. I have an entire leaf of Noah's journal aboard the ark, that was hewen out of a porphyry pillar in Palmyra.
[_Fossile opens the case of the mummy._
_Naut._ By the formation of the muscular parts of the visage, I conjecture that this mummy is male.
_Pos._ Male, brother! I am sorry to observe your ignorance of the symetry of a human body. Do but observe the projection of the hip; besides, the bloom upon the face; 'tis a female beyond all contradiction.
_Fos._ Let us have no rash dispute, brothers; but proceed methodically----Behold the vanity of mankind! [_pointing to the mummy._] Some Ptolemy perhaps!----
_Naut._ Who by his pyramid and pickle thought to secure to himself death immortal.
_Fos._ His pyramid, alas! is now but a wainscot case.
_Pos._ And his pickle can scarce raise him to the dignity of a collar of brawn.
_Fos._ Pardon me, Dr. Possum: The musæum of the curious is a lasting monument. And I think it no degradation to a dead person of quality, to bear the rank of an anatomy in the learned world.
_Naut._ By your favour, Dr. Possum, a collar of brawn! I affirm, he is better to be taken inwardly than a collar of brawn.
_Fos._ An excellent medicine! he is hot in the first-degree, and exceeding powerful in some diseases of women.
_Naut._ Right, Dr. Fossile; for your Asphaltion.
_Pos._ Pice-Asphaltus, by your leave.
_Naut._ By your leave, doctor Possum, I say, Asphaltion.
_Pos._ And I positively say, Pice-Asphaltus.
_Naut._ If you had read Dioscorides or Pliny--
_Poss._ I have read Dioscorides. And I do affirm Pice-Asphaltus.
_Foss._ Be calm, Gentlemen. Both of you handle this argument with great learning, judgment, and perspicuity. For the present, I beseech you to concord, and turn your speculations on my alligator.
_Poss._ The skin is impenetrable even to a sword.
_Naut._ Dr. Possum I will show you the contrary.
[_Draws his sword._
_Poss._ In the mean time I will try the mummy with this knife, on the point of which you shall smell the pitch, and be convinc'd that it is the Pice-Asphaltus.
[_Takes up a rusty knife._
_Foss._ Hold, Sir: You will not only deface my mummy, but spoil my Roman sacrificing-knife.
Enter TOWNLEY.
_Town._ I must lure them from this experiment, or we are discover'd.
[_Aside._
[_She looks through a telescope._
What do I see! most prodigious! a star as broad as the moon in the day-time!
[_The doctors go to her._
_Poss._ Only a halo about the sun, I suppose.
_Naut._ Your suppositions, doctor, seem to be groundless. Let me make my observation.
[_Nautilus and Possum struggle to look first._
_Town._ Now for your escape:
[_To Plotwell and Underplot._
[_They run to the door, but find it lock'd._
_Underp._ What an unlucky dog I am!
_Town._ Quick. Back to your posts. Don't move, and rely upon me. I have still another artifice.
[_They run back to their places._
[_Exit Townley._
_Naut._ I can espy no celestial body but the sun.
_Poss._ Brother Nautilus, your eyes are somewhat dim; your sight is not fit for astronomical observations.
_Foss._ Is the focus of the glass right? hold gentlemen, I see it; about the bigness of Jupiter.
_Naut._ No phenomenon offers itself to my speculation.
_Poss._ Point over yonder chimney. Directly south.
_Naut._ Thitherward, begging your pardon, Dr. Possum, I affirm to be the north.
_Foss._ East.
_Poss._ South.
_Naut._ North. Alas! what an ignorant thing is vanity! I was just making a reflection on the ignorance of my brother Possum, in the nature of the crocodile.
_Poss._ First, brother Nautilus, convince yourself of the composition of the mummy.
_Naut._ I will insure your alligator from any damage. His skin I affirm once more to be impenetrable.
[_draws his sword._
_Poss._ I will not deface any hieroglyphick.
[_Goes to the mummy with the knife._
_Foss._ I never oppose a luciferous experiment. It is the beaten highway to truth.
[_Plotwell and Underplot leap from their places; the doctors are frighted._]
_Foss._ Speak, I conjure thee. Art thou the ghost of some murder'd Egyptian monarch?
_Naut._ A rational question to a mummy! But this monster can be no less than the devil himself, for crocodiles don't walk.
Enter TOWNLEY and CLINKET.
[_Townley whispers Clinket._
_Foss._ Gentlemen, wonder at nothing within these walls; for ever since I was married, nothing has happen'd to me in the common course of human life.
_Clink._ Madam, without a compliment, you have a fine imagination. The masquerade of the mummy and crocodile is extremely just; I would not rob you of the merit of the invention, yet since you make me the compliment, I shall be proud to take the whole contrivance of this masquerade upon myself. [_To Townley._] Sir, be acquainted with my masqueraders.
[_To Fossile._
_Foss._ Thou female imp of Appollo, more mischievous than Circe, who fed gentlemen of the army in a hog's-stye! What mean you by these gambols? this mummy, this crocodile?
_Clink._ Only a little mummery, uncle?
_Fos._ What an outragious conceit is this! had you contented yourself with the metamorphosis of Jupiter, our skill in the classicks might have prevented our terror.
_Clink._ I glory in the fertility of my invention the more, that it is beyond the imagination of a pagan deity. Besides, it is form'd upon the vraysemblance; for I know you had a mummy and a crocodile to be brought home.
_Fos._ Dr. Nautilus is an infirm tender gentleman; I wish the sudden concussion of his animal spirits may not kindle him into a fever. I myself, I must confess, have an extreme palpitation.
_Clink._ Dear uncle, be pacified. We are both of us the votaries of our great master Appollo. To you he has assign'd the art of healing: Me he has taught to sing; why then should we jangle in our kindred faculties?
_Fos._ Appollo, for ought I know, may be a very fine person; but this I am very sure of, that the skill he has given all his physicians is not sufficient to cure the madness of his poets.
_Pos._ Hark ye, brother Fossile? Your Crocodile has proved a human creature, I wish your wife may not prove a crocodile.
_Naut._ Hark ye, brother Fossile! Your mummy, as you were saying, seemeth to be hot in the first degree, and is powerful in some diseases of women.
[_Exit Nautilus and Possum._
_Fos._ You diabolical performers of my niece's masquerade, will it please you to follow those gentlemen?
_Clink._ Nay, Sir, you shall see them dance first.
_Fos._ Dance! the devil! bring me hither a spit, a fire-fork, I'll try whether the monsters are impenetrable or no.
_Plotw._ I hope, Sir, you will not expose us to the fury of the mob, since we came here upon so courteous a design.
_Foss._ Good courteous Mr. Mummy, without more ceremony, will it please you to retire to your subterraneous habitation. And you Mr. Crocodile, about your business this moment, or you shall change your Nile for the next horse-pond.
_Clink._ Spare my masqueraders.
_Underp._ Let it never be said that the famous Dr. Fossile, so renowned for his charity to monsters, should violate the laws of hospitality, and turn a poor alligator naked into the street.
_Foss._ Deposite your _exuviæ_ then, and assume your human shape.
_Underp._ For that I must beg your excuse. A gentleman would not chuse to be known in these frolicks.
_Foss._ Then out of my doors, here footman, out with him; out, thou hypocrite, of an alligator.
[_Underplot is turn'd out._
Sir, the respect I have for catacombs and pyramids, will not protect you.
[_A noise of mob within._
Enter PRUE.
_Prue._ Sir, Sir, lock your doors, or else all your monsters will run home again to the Indies. Your crocodile yonder has made his escape; if he get but to Somerset water-gate, he is gone for ever.
[_Exit Prue._
Enter a Footman.
_Foot._ The herbwoman swore she knew him to be the devil, for she had met him one dark night in St. Pulchre's church-yard; then the monster call'd a coach, methought with the voice of a christian; but a sailor that came by said he might be a crocodile for all that, for crocodiles could cry like children, and was for killing him outright, for they were good to eat in Egypt, but the constable cry'd take him alive, for what if he be an Egyptian, he is still the king's subject.
_Ex. footman._
[_A noise of mob within._
Enter PRUE
_Prue._ Then he was hurry'd a way by the mob. A bull-dog ran away with fix joints of his tail, and the claw of his near foot before: At last by good fortune, to save his life, he fell in with the Hockley in the Hole bull and bear; the master claim'd him for his monster, and so he is now attended by a vast mob, very solemnly marching to Hockley in the Hole, with the bear in his front, the bull in his rear, and a monkey upon each shoulder.
_Town._ Mr. Mummy, you had best draw the curtains of your chair, or the mob's respect for the dead will scarce protect you.
[_Exit Plotwell in a chair._
_Clink._ My concern for him obliges me to go see that he gets off safe, lest any further mischief befalls the persons of our masque.
[_Exit Clinket._
_Fos._ Sweetly, Horace. _Nunquam satis_, and so forth. A man can never be too cautious. Madam, sit down by me. Pray how long is it since you and I have been married?
_Town._ Near three hours, Sir.
_Fos._ And what anxieties has this time produc'd? the dangers of divorce! calumniatory letters! lewd fellows introduc'd by my niece! groundless jealousies on both sides! even thy virginity put to the touch-stone! but this last danger I plung'd thee in myself; to leave thee in the room with two such robust young fellows.
_Town._ Ay, with two young fellows! but my dear, I know you did it ignorantly.
_Fos._ This is the first blest minute of repose that I have enjoy'd in matrimony. Dost thou know the reason, my dear, why I have chosen thee of all womankind?
_Town._ My face, perhaps.
_Fos._ No.
_Town._ My wit?
_Fos._ No.
_Town._ My virtue and good humour.
_Fos._ No. But for the natural conformity of our constitutions. Because thou art hot and moist in the third degree, and I myself cold and dry in the first.
_Town._ And so nature has coupled us like the elements.
_Fos._ Thou hast nothing to do but to submit thy constitution to my regimen.
_Town._ You shall find me obedient in all things.
_Foss._ It is strange, yet certain, that the intellects of the infant depend upon the suppers of the parents. Diet must be prescrib'd.
_Town._ So the wit of one's posterity is determin'd by the choice of one's cook.
_Foss._ Right. You may observe how French cooks, with their high ragousts, have contaminated our plain English understandings. Our supper to night is extracted from the best authors. How delightful is this minute of tranquility! my soul is at ease. How happy shalt thou make me! thou shalt bring me the finest boy!
[_A knocking at the door,_
No mortal shall enter these doors this day. [_knocking again._] Oh, it must be the news of poor lady Hippokekoana's death. Poor woman! such is the condition of life, some die, and some are born, and I shall now make some reparation for the mortality of my patients by the fecundity of my wife. My dear thou shalt bring me the finest boy!
Enter footman.
_Foot._ Sir, here's a seaman from Deptford must needs speak with you.
_Foss._ Let him come in. One of my retale Indian merchants, I suppose, that always brings me some odd thing.
Enter sailor with a child.
What hast thou brought me, friend, a young drill?
_Sail._ Look ye d'ye see, master, you know best whether a monkey begot him.
_Foss._ A meer human child.
_Town._ Thy carelessness, Sarsnet, has exposed me, I am lost and ruin'd. O heav'n! heav'n! No, impudence assist me.
[_Aside._
_Foss._ Is the child monstrous? or dost thou bring him here to take physick?
_Sail._ I care not what he takes so you take him.
_Foss._ What does the fellow mean?
_Sail._ Fellow me no fellows. My name is Jack Capstone of Deptford, and are not you the man that has the raree-show of oyster-shells and pebble-stones?
_Fos._ What if I am?
_Sail._ Why, then my invoice is right, I must leave my cargo here.
_Town._ Miserable woman that I am! how shall I support this fight! thy bastard brought into thy family as soon as thy bride!
_Fos._ Patience, patience, I beseech you. Indeed I have no posterity.
_Town._ You lascivious brute you.
_Fos._ Passion is but the tempestuous cloud that obscures reason; be calm and I'll convince you. Friend, how come you to bring the infant hither?
_Sail._ My wife, poor woman, could give him suck no longer, for she died yesterday morning. There's a long account, master. It was hard to trace him to the fountain-head. I steer'd my course from lane to lane, I spoke to twenty old women, and at last was directed to a ribbon-shop in Covent-Garden, and they sent me hither, and so take the bantling and pay me his clearings.
[_Offers him the child._
_Fos._ I shall find law for you, sirrah. Call my neighbour Possum, he is a justice of peace, as well as a physician.
_Town._ Call the man back. If you have committed one folly, don't expose yourself by a second.
_Sail._ The gentlewoman says well. Come, master, we all know that there is no boarding a pretty wench, without charges one way or other; you are a doctor, master, and have no surgeons bills to pay; and so can the better afford it.
_Town._ Rather than you should bring a scandal on your character, I will submit to be a kind mother-in-law.
Enter Justice Possum, and Clerk.
_Fos._ Mr. justice Possum, for now I must so call you, not brother Possum; here is a troublesome fellow with a child, which he would leave in my house.
_Pos._ Another man's child? he cannot in law.
_Fos._ It seemeth to me to be a child unlawfully begotten.
_Pos._ A bastard! who does he lay it to?
_Fos._ To our family.
_Pos._ Your family, _quatenus_ a family, being a body collective, cannot get a bastard. Is this child a bastard, honest friend?
_Sail._ I was neither by when his mother was show'd, nor when she was unladen; whether he belong to a fair trader, or be run goods, I cannot tell: In short here I was sent, and here I will leave him.
_Pos._ Dost then know his mother, friend?
_Sail._ I am no midwife, master; I did not see him born.
_Pos._ You had best put up this matter, doctor. A man of your years, when he has been wanton, cannot be too cautious.
_Fos._ This is all from the purpose. I was married this morning at seven; let any man in the least acquainted with the powers of nature, judge whether that human creature could be conceiv'd and brought to maturity in one forenoon.
_Pos._ This is but talk, doctor Fossile. It is well for you, though I say it, that you have fallen into the hands of a person, who has study'd the civil and canon law in the point of bastardy. The child is either yours or not yours.
_Foss._ My child, Mr. Justice!
_Pos._ Look ye, doctor Fossile, you confound filiation with legitimation. Lawyers are of opinion, that filiation is necessary to legitimation, but not _è contra_.
[_The child cries_
_Foss._ I would not starve any of my own species, get the infant some water-pap. But Mr. Justice----
_Pos._ The proofs, I say, doctor, of filiation are five. Nomination enunciatively pronounc'd, strong presumptions, and circumstantial proofs--
_Foss._ What is all this to me? I tell you I know nothing of the child.
_Pos._ Signs of paternal piety, similitude of features, and commerce with the mother. And first of the first, nomination. Has the doctor ever been heard to call the infant, son?
_Town._ He has call'd him child, since he came into this room. You have indeed, Mr. Fossile.
_Pos._ Bring hither the doctor's great bible.----Let us examine in the blank leaf whether he be enroll'd among the rest of his children.
_Foss._ I tell you, I never had any children. I shall grow distracted, I shall----
_Pos._ But did you give any orders against registring the child by the name of Fossile?
_Foss._ How was it possible?
_Pos._ Set down that, clerk. He did not prohibit the registring the child in his own name. We our selves have observed one sign of fatherly tenderness; clerk, set down the water-pap he order'd just now. Come we may----
_Foss._ What a jargon is this!
_Pos._ Come we now, I say, to that which the lawyers call _magnum naturæ argumentum_, similitude of features. Bring hither the child, friend; Dr. Fossile, look upon me. The unequal circle of the infant's face, somewhat resembles the inequality of the circumference of your countenance; he has also the vituline or calf-like concavity of the profile of your visage.
_Foss._ Pish.
_Pos._ And he is somewhat beetle-brow'd, and his nose will rise with time to an equal prominence with the doctor's.
_Town._ Indeed he has somewhat of your nose Mr. Fossile.
_Foss._ Ridiculous!
_Town._ The child is comely.
_Pos._ Consider the large aperture of his mouth.
_Sail._ Nay, the tokens are plain enough. I have the fellow of him at home; but my wife told me two days ago, that this with the wall-eye and splay-foot belong'd to you, Sir.
[_Prue runs a-cross the stage with a letter, which Fossile snatches from her._
_Fos._ Whither are you going so fast, hussy? I will examine every thing within these walls. [_Exit Prue._] [_reads._] 'For Richard Plotwell, esq;' This letter unravels the whole affair: As she is an unfortunate relation of mine, I must beg you would act with discretion.
[_Gives Possum the letter._
_Pos._ [_reads_]
'Sir, the child which you father'd is return'd back upon my hands. Your Drury-lane friends have treated me with such rudeness, that they told me in plain terms I should be damn'd. How unfortunate soever my offspring is, I hope you at least will defend the reputation of the unhappy
'Phoebe Clinket.'
----As you say, doctor, the case is too plain; every circumstance hits.
Enter CLINKET.
_Clink._ 'Tis very uncivil, Sir, to break open one's letters.
_Foss._ Would I had not; and that the contents of it had been a secret to me and all mankind for ever. Wretched creature, to what a miserable condition has thy poetry reduc'd thee!
_Clink._ I am not in the least mortified with the accident. I know it has happen'd to many of the most famous daughters of Apollo; and to myself several times.
_Foss._ I am thunderstruck at her impudence! several times!
_Clink._ I have had one returned upon my hands every winter for these five years past. I may perhaps be excell'd by others in judgment and correctness of manners, but for fertility and readiness of conception, I will yield to nobody.
_Foss._ Bless me, whence had she this luxuriant constitution!
_Pos._ Patience, Sir. Perhaps the lady may be married.
_Town._ Tis infamous, Mr. Fossile, to keep her in your house; yet though you turn her out of doors, use her with some humanity; I will take care of the child.
_Clink._ I can find no _Denoüement_ of all this conversation. Where is the crime, I pray, of writing a tragedy? I sent it to Drury-Lane house to be acted; and here it is return'd by the wrong goùt of the actors.
_Pos._ This incident has somewhat embarrassed us. But what mean you here, madam, by this expression? Your offspring.
_Clink._ My tragedy, the offspring of my brain. One of his majesty's justices of the peace, and not understand the use of the metaphor!
_Pos._ Doctor, you have used much artifice, and many demurrers; but the child must lie at your door at last. Friend, speak plain what thou knowest of this matter.
_Foss._ Let me relate my story. This morning, I married this lady, and brought her from her lodgings, at Mrs. Chambers's, in King-street, Covent-Garden.
_Sail._ Mrs. Chambers! To that place I was directed, where liv'd the maid that put the bantling out to be nurs'd by my wife for her lady; and who she was, 'tis none of our business to enquire.
_Pos._ Dost thou know the name of this maid?
_Sail._ Let me consider----Lutestring.
_Foss._ Sarsnet, thou mean'st.
_Sail._ Sarsnet, that's right.
_Town._ I'll turn her out of my house this moment, Filthy creature!
_Pos._ The evidence is plain. You have cohabitation with the mother, doctor, _currat lex_. And you must keep the child.
_Foss._ Your decree is unjust, Sir, and I'll seek my remedy at law. As I never was espoused, I never had carnal knowledge of any woman; and my wife, Mrs. Susanna Townley, is a pure virgin at this hour for me.
_Pos._ Susanna Townley! Susannah Townley! Look how runs the warrant you drew up this morning.
[_Clerk gives him a paper._
Madam, a word in private with you. [_whispers her_] Doctor, my Lord Chief Justice has some business with this lady.
_Foss._ My Lord Chief Justice business with my wife!
_Pos._ To be plain with you, doctor Fossile, you have for these three hours entertain'd another man's wife. Her husband, lieutenant Bengal, is just returned from the Indies, and this morning took out a warrant from me for an elopement; it will be more for your credit to part with her privately, than to suffer her publickly to be carried off by a tipstaff.
_Foss._ Surprizing have been the events of this day; but this, the strangest of all, settles my future repose. Let her go--I have not dishonoured the bed of lieutenant Bengal--Hark ye friend! Do you follow her with that badge of her infamy.
_Pos._ By your favour, doctor, I never reverse my judgment. The child is yours: for it cannot belong to a man who has been three years absent in the East-Indies. Leave the child.
_Sail._ I find you are out of humour, master. So I'll call to-morrow for his clearings.
[_Sailor lays down the child, and exit with Possum, Clerk, and Townley._]
_Clink._ Uncle, by this day's adventure, every one has got something. Lieutenant Bengal has got his wife again; you a fine child; and I a plot for a comedy; and I'll this moment set about it.
[_Exit Clinket._
_Foss._ What must be, must be. [_takes up the child._] Fossile, thou didst want posterity: Here behold thou hast it. A wife thou didst not want; thou hast none. But thou art caressing a child that is not thy own. What then? a thousand, and a thousand husbands are doing the same thing this very instant; and the knowledge of truth is desirable, and makes thy case the better, What signifies whether a man beget his child or not? How rediculous is the act itself, said the great emperor Antoninus! I now look upon myself as a Roman citizen; it is better that the father should adopt the child, than that the wife should adopt the father.
[_Exit Fossile._
EPILOGUE.
Spoke by Mrs. OLDFIELD.
_The ancient Epilogue, as criticks write, Was, Clap your hands, excuse us, and good-night. The modern always was a kind essay To reconcile the audience to the play: More polish'd, we of late have learn'd to fly At parties, treaties, nations, ministry. Our author more genteelly leaves these brawls To coffee-houses, and to coblers stalls. His very monsters are of sweet condition, None but the Crocodile's a politician; He reaps the blessings of his double nature, And, Trimmer like, can live on land or water: Yet this same monster should be kindly treated, He lik'd a lady's flesh----but not to eat it._
_As for my other spark, my favourite Mummy, His feats were such, smart youths! as might become ye; Dead as he seem'd, he had sure signs of life; His hieroglyphicks pleas'd the doctor's wife._
_Whom can our well-bred poetess displease? She writ like quality----with wond'rous ease: All her offence was harmless want of wit; Is that a crime?----ye powers, preserve the pit._
_My doctor too, to give the devil his due, When every creature did his spouse pursue, (Men sound in living, bury'd flesh, dry'd fish,) Was e'en as civil as a wife could wish. Yet he was somewhat saucy with his viol; What! put young maids to that unnat'ral trial! So hard a test! why, if you needs will make it, Faith, let us marry first,----and then we'll take it._
_Who could be angry, though like Fossile teaz'd? Consider, in three hours, the man was eas'd. How many of you are for life beguil'd, And keep as well the mother, as the child! None but a Tar could be so tender-hearted, To claim a wife that had been three years parted; Would you do this, my friends?--believe me, never! When modishly you part----you part for ever._
_Join then your voices, be the play excus'd For once, though no one living is abus'd; To that bright circle that commands our duties, To you superior eighteen-penny beauties, To the lac'd hat and cockard of the pit, } To all, in one word, we our cause submit, } Who think good breeding is a-kin to wit._ }
The _Publisher_'s
_Advertisement_ to this _Edition_.
The following Key with the Letter annexed, was sent me from my Correspondent in _London_; which came too late to the English Editor, to be printed with that Edition. As the Squabble between _Cibber_ and _Gay_ behind the Scenes of the Theatre-Royal in _Drury-Lane_, at that Time, was very well known; we imagine the reader will not be displeased to have a particular Account of it, now, first added to this _Dublin_ Edition.
A KEY TO THE NEW COMEDY;
CALL'D,
THREE HOURS AFTER MARRIAGE.
Written by a Person of Distinction in LONDON,
To his Friend in the County of _Cornwal_.
With a Letter, giving an Account of the Origin of the Quarrel between CIBBER, POPE, and GAY.
A
KEY
TO THE
NEW COMEDY, _&c._
To Sir H. M.
My Friend,
You have sent me a long letter to persuade me to an undertaking I cannot think myself capable of executing; therefore, I must call it worse to me than an Egyptian bondage! My frequenting the Theatre (you say) I make my favourite amusement--I confess it--I think it a rational, instructive, and most pleasurable one, of all those this great city affords: Where can a man pass three hours of his idle time better? however, I never enter the house as a critick, and therefore find myself unequal to the task you have imposed upon me; yet notwithstanding, I will venture. But as you make use of this old sentence in your letter,
_Ut clavis partam, sic pandit Epistolæ pectum._
I shall divide (as parsons do their pulpit orations) my matter into three parts. First then I shall give you my own thoughts, which I believe concur with at least three parts of the audience. So I shall unlock (according to your motto) my breast, and tell you all I know or think concerning this affair.
2dly. I intend to let you know as much as I do; at least, all the persons that are satiriz'd in this merry drama.
3dly, And lastly, without the least favour, I shall discover according to my judgment, from whence they have borrowed, or bordered upon any likeness from any other dramatick piece within my knowledge.
Now as to the FIRST article. The expectation of all lovers of the drama, were rais'd to the highest pitch, from the great reputation of the authors, (the Triumvir, as they were call'd) Pope, Gay, and Arbuthnot. I went to the Theatre the first night, but could not find the least room; every door that was opened to me, diffus'd more heat than a baker's oven, or the mouth of a glass-house. The next morning, I stroll'd to several coffee-houses, where I knew the wits and criticks met like surgeons, to dissect the body of any new piece; but I found more opinions among them, than there are sectaries in the world: So I resolv'd to venture a sweating the next evening, and be my own judge. When I came to the Theatre, I found it crowded as the night before, but fortunately got a seat in the boxes among some of my acquaintance.
Wilk's spoke the prologue with his usual vivacity and applause! but he had no sooner ended, and thrown the fool's cap on the stage,[D] but the storm began, and the criticks musick of cat-calls join'd in the chorus.--The play was acted like a ship tost in a tempest; yet notwithstanding, through those clouds of confusion and uproar, I, as one of the neutral powers, could discover a great many passages that gave me much satisfaction; and while the inimitable Oldfield was speaking the epilogue, (who performed the character of Mrs. Townley, the doctor's wife) the storm subsided--And to speak poetically, my friend--
The billows seem'd to slumber on the shore.
[D] See the two last lines of the prologue.
But when the play was given out for the third night, (tho' the benefit of the author was not mention'd) the roar burst out again, like sudden thunder from two meeting clouds; but I with pleasure observ'd, the roar of applause overcame and triumph'd.
I went the third night to the pit, where I saw the comedy perform'd to a numerous and polite audience with general applause! as for my own particular part, I was extremely delighted. Thus have I unlock'd my own sentiments concerning this three hours after marriage, and expos'd them naked before you. And so ends the first promised article of my Key--Now I shall proceed to the
SECOND, _viz._ The persons that are struck at in this drama (which has opened so many mouths against it) and the cause which drew the satirical lash upon them.
Poets, that are inspir'd by Apollo are so quickly fir'd, that the least touch sets them in a blaze. The Triumvir had been inform'd, that Dr. Fossile, or Dr. Woodward, which you please; (for Dr. Woodward they mean by Dr. Fossile) had very concisely affronted them all three in one speech, _viz._ Pope's essay on critiscism, was plundered from Vida--Gays pastoral lucubrations, were built upon Spencer, and Brown's Britania's-pastorals, published in the year 1613--and Arbuthnot could never be eminent in surgery, since he never study'd at Paris or Leyden; for in Scotland, he could learn nothing, but to cure the itch. So Fossile appears as the principal character in this ludicrous drama: He gain'd that title tis said, by asking a man digging in a gravel-pit--if he ever met with any Fossils? the man mistaking the Word, reply'd--no, nor Spiggot's master; for I believe this gravel-pit was never an ale-cellar yet. Thus have I given you all the intelligence I can, why Dr Woodward is Dr. Fossile in this comedy.
The other two physicians next in the dramatis personæ, do not, I believe, mean any particular persons, only to satirize pretenders, and you know we have too many that kill without license.
Sir Tremendous is meant for that snarling, ill-natur'd critick, Dennis, who fell so critically upon Addison, with his billingsgate remarks on Cato! a growler, who never yet lik'd any child of fancy but his own! and I must declare, all of his offspring that I have seen, are as ill-shap'd, and as hard-favour'd as the parent that begot 'em: He swells like an invenom'd reptile, at any thing that gives pleasure to the rest of the world, while he only torments himself; therefore he has truly gain'd the true name of Heautontimerumenos.
The two extraordinary lovers, Plotwell, and Underplot; there are so many of their resemblance in this great town, that we may call them knights of the shires, who represent them all.
The two players by their different manner of speaking, by those whoever convers'd with them, might be easily found to mean Wilk's and Booth.
Now we have open'd our lock, and set to view all our men display'd in our three hours after marriage, I shall proceed to the women, which are but two pointed at in the drama, whatever may occur in the body of the play, which I shall refer to the last article of my discourse. (_do not I my friend talk like your chaplain in the country! on the day between saturday and monday_)?
Mrs. Townley, the heroine of our play, I am inform'd, does not suit the character of Fossile's real wife in the least; for tis said they cannot slander that poor woman with any other failing, than that thing so much out of fashion call'd virtue; which seems as ridiculous as if a woman of quality should come to court to a ball on a birth day, with a black-bever high-crown-hat on: But they say another eminent physician's wife sat for that picture; and the painters have done her justice in all but the catastrophe; for the poor man has her still, nor feels he yet any pain in the forehead; therefore shall be nameless, for I think it hard, a man's head should be laden, for the lightness of his wife's heels.
Phoebe Clinket; I am a little griev'd to say, reflects a little on a lady of your acquaintance, the Countess of W----sea, who is so much affected with that itch of versifying, that she has implements for writing, in every room in her house that she frequents. You and I know, Gay has many obligations to that lady, therefore, out of justice and good manners ought to have spar'd her. But poets provok'd, are as bad as hornets; they care not who they sting! and I think the motto to the thistle, (the arms of North-Britain) _Nemo me impune lacessit_, given by James V. of Scotland, is not an improper one for a poet--That unlucky lady was heard to say,--_Gays trivia show'd he was more proper to walk before a chair, than to ride in one_. This sarcasm was the cause, why the poor Countess is thrust among such a pack of motley figures on the stage. As Hamlet says by the players; "You had better have a poets good word, than a bad epitaph after your death." I must confess a poor revenge upon a woman; and a revenge of this kind on any of the soft sex, is below the dignity of man. I am of the poets opinion, who says--
"Too noble for revenge! which still we find The weakest frailty of a feeble mind; Ungenerous passion! and for man too base--
Thus my friend have I finish'd my 2d article, and proceed to the THIRD and last, which shall be to consider the play, and remark every passage that borders on any other in the dramatic way, but not with the ill-natur'd design of a critick.
The very first scene of the play, puts me in mind of the first entrance of Morose, with his epicæne in Ben Johnson's silent woman; and several other scenes in this _Three Hours after Marriage_, convinces me the authors had that celebrated comedy often in view. But Fossile in his first speech where he says--
"_I now proclaim a solemn suspension of arms between medicine and diseases; Be this day sacred to my love._" Puts me strongly in mind of Jupiter's ending the first act of Dryden's amphytrion: and I doubt not, but the author had the same thought with me.
"Let human kind their sovereign's leisure wait, Love is this night my great affair of state: Let this one night on providence be void: All Jove for once, is on himself employ'd.
In the next page Mrs. Townley says--
_Marriage, is not to be undertaken wantonly like brute beasts._ Do you not think this following speech of Truwits to Morose upon his sudden marriage, was not the father of Mrs. Townley's speech.
"Wou'd you go to bed so soon? a man of your head and hair should owe more to the reverend ceremony, and not mount the marriage-bed like a town-bull, _&c._
The messages from his patients, I like the least of any thing in the whole play, tho' it is a just satire on those people of rank, that dare not be well without the advice of their physician: Yet I am angry at the countess of Hippokekoana, who is no other than the good dutchess of M--n--th, who generally took an emetick once a week. This lady had the misfortune to break her thigh-bone by a fall, but her modesty was so great, she would not allow the surgeons to apply any remedy; but by their advice, women took their office upon them, but performed it so ill, that the poor lady must go lame to her tomb. The annual day, on which her illustrious husband lost his head, she fasts the four and twenty hours: a rare example of conjugal-love! But indeed something of this whole scene may be picked out of _Moliere_.
In the scene between Tremendous, Clinket and the Players; that critick talks in the usual stile of _Dennis_--But in this speech of--
_There is not in all this sodom of ignorance, ten righteous criticks_--The triumvir makes a little too free with the old testament.
Those letters that are given to the doctor in disguise of his footman, are something like several passages in Molier's _Cecu imaginaire_. That sign'd _Wyburn_, I believe I need not inform you, is the most noted bawd in London. The character of Lubomirski, may be found (at least something like it) in _Lopez de Vega_; but his water of virginity, you may find something very like that in a play call'd the _Changeling_, written by Middleton and Rowley in conjunction, printed 1653.
Their Mummy may be found in a little piece in the _Theatre Italien_, call'd the mummies of Egypt; and I believe the Nile furnish'd the Crocodile.
I begin to be tir'd my friend, and, therefore let me tell you, Mrs. Townley proving no wife to Fossile, may put you in mind of _Ben Johnson's_ silent woman, and _Congreve's_ old batchelor.
But what of all this! who would search for what I have done, but such a compliant puppy as myself, to please one who does not care what trouble I take; but for taking hints from the French, Spanish, or any of our own celebrated authors, especially if they are improved upon, as in justice these are. I will not esteem a crime--How many whole plays have we translated from the celebrated Moliere, that every winter gives pleasure to a British audience? I shall never ask my cook of what ingredients my dishes are compos'd, so my viands are wholsome and well relish'd: And this Three Hours after Marriage, in my opinion, had not the satire been pointed at particular people, might have furnis'd out a repast for many winters Theatric nights.
A LETTER, _&c._
To the Publisher.
SIR,
_I Desire you will publish this short account I send you, if you think fit, since it cannot more properly be tacked to any other work--It is wrote by a person who is still alive, and tho' a woman, intimate with the poets of this century, and consequently with most of the theatrical persons worthy notice; therefore I have sent you a careful copy from the original, by the gentleman's consent it was wrote to._
A LETTER, giving an Account of the Origin of the Quarrel between _Cibber_, _Pope_, and _Gay_.
SIR,
You tell me, it is matter of great surprize to you, that Pope like a vicious horse, has so often flung out at the Laureat, whose apology for his life and comedies you so much admire. Women, depend on it, Sir Thomas, keep up a little vanity, even in the decline of life, as well as you men; and you will certainly think so, when I tell you I can unravel all the true reasons, and sources of that affair.--I have often informed you, my intimacy with Mrs. Oldfield brought me the freedom of the theatre, as well at rehearsals in the morning, as the use of her box at night. I accompany'd her almost every morning to the _Three Hours after Marriage_. This comedy was the source of that bitterness, and keen-cutting satire that Pope expresses against Cibber in all his writings. At the rehearsal of this piece, no two could express more amity; and the former was often heard to say, with his other two associates, Arbuthnot and Gay: "Cibber, in teaching the comedians their parts, had struck out infinitely more humour than they themselves conceiv'd, or even meant; and I heard Gay say"--
"We dug the oar, but he refin'd the gold."
Which was plainly owning, they all three had a hand in mixing the ingredients for this theatric pudding.
We shall give the first appearance of Pope's resentment, in Mr. Cibber's own words, in his letter to Pope; and then relate another passage the laureat has omitted.
"The play of the Rehearsal, which had lain some few years dormant, being by his present majesty (then Prince of Wales) commanded to be reviv'd, the part of Bayes fell to my share. To this character, there always had been allow'd such ludicrous liberties of observation, upon any thing new or remarkable in the state of the stage, as Mr. Bayes should think proper to take. Much about this time the Three Hours after Marriage had been acted, which Mr. Baye's as usual had a fling at, which in itself as no jest, unless the audience would please to make it one. In this play, two coxcombs being in love with a virtuoso's wife; to get unsuspected access to her, ingenuously sent themselves as two presented rarities to the husband, the one swath'd up like an Egyptian Mummy, and the other sllyly cover'd in the paste board skin of a Crocodile: Upon which poetical expedient, Mr. Bayes, when the two kings of Brentford came down from the clouds into the throne again; instead of what my part directed me to say, I made use of these words, _viz._ Now Sir, this revolution, I had some thoughts of introducing by a quite different contrivance; but my design taking air, some of your sharp wits I found, had made use of it before me; otherwise, I intended to have stolen one of them in, in the shape of a mummy, and the other, in that of a crocodile. The audience by their roar of applause, show'd their approbation: But why am I answerable for that? I did not lead them by any reflection of my own. But this it seems was so heinously taken by Mr. Pope, that in the swellings of his heart after the play was over, he came behind the scenes with his lips pale, and voice trembling, to call me to account for the insult, and, accordingly fell upon me with all the foul language, that a wit out of his senses, could be capable of--_How durst I have the impudence to treat any gentlemen in that_ _manner_? &c, &c, &c. Now let the reader judge by this concern, who was the true mother of the child--When he was almost choak'd with the foam of his passion, I was enough recovered to make him (as near as I can remember) this reply--_viz._ Mr. Pope, you _are so particular a man, that I must be asham'd to return your language as I ought to do; but since you have attacked me in so monstrous a manner, this you may depend upon, that as long as the play continues to be acted, I will never fail to repeat the same words over and over again_. Now, as he accordingly found I kept my word for several nights following, I am afraid he has since thought, that his pen was a sharper weapon than his tongue, to trust his revenge with; and, however just cause this may be for his doing so; it is, at least, the only cause my conscience can charge me with.
So far has Mr. Cibber thought fit to relate of this affair, and no farther, which is strictly true: But the laureat in this account of the first failing of Mr. Popes friendship, makes no mention of what pass'd between him and Mr. Gay, the fourth evening, after his sparring with Mr. Pope: Perhaps, the death of Gay prevail'd on him to be silent, or perhaps, that author, never having publickly attack'd him, might be his motive for not mentioning the affair.
Thus it was, Mr Pope's frail form not being cut out for a hero, spirited up Mr. Gay, as a party concerned in the suppos'd affront; and accordingly, the fourth night, after Pope's ill success, Gay, like a valiant champion, came behind the scenes to attack Bayes at the head of his new rais'd forces: A dangerous undertaking, since, he might have seen, if rage had not blinded him, several horse, rang'd on each side the field of battle, ready for the riders to mount, at the first call of the trumpet--most of the forces were in their tents, waiting the word of command. But _Bayes_, the general, already prepar'd, was gone from his pavilion, and reconnoitring the numerous spectators--that is without a metaphor: Cibber with his glove rais'd up to his eyes, (his usual custom) was observing the audience about half an hour after five o'clock (the play beginning in drury-lane axactly at six) when Gay accosted him. We shall wave the short dialogue; but only observe that great poets are as well vers'd in the vulgar language, as well as the sublime, and perhaps, in their anger show as little politeness, as those educated in the boarding school of billing's-gate. But at last Gays passion grew ungovernable; he with his arm rais'd high, was going to discharge a ponderous blow upon Baye's, but a stander by disarmed him, and prevented the ignominious blow. They then seiz'd each other, grappled hard, and a cuff or two were exchang'd on both sides--Gay having the advantage of youth, and strength, threw Bayes down, yet he bravely drag'd his foe down with him in his fall: But the affair growing a little too serious, the combatants were parted, without bloodshed, save that Bayes got a small scratch upon the nose, which the piece of wet brown paper, (a property of his part) decently conceal'd from the spectators. It is certain, one of those that endeavoured to part them, got a most severe broken shin from one of them; so that we may be assur'd they _kick'd_ as well as _cuff'd_. However this combat did not last so long as it takes up in the relation. Bayes's wig went once more under the correction of the barber, and the play began at the stated time. We cannot call this by the pompous name of Battle, but simply skirmishing; but as Gay was obliged to quit the field, _Bayes_ may in some sort be termed victor; however, he triumph'd with his mummy and crocodile that night, but dropt it afterwards, the jest growing stale. Mr. Pope's apparition to Mr. Cibber on this occasion was known to very few, but this of Mr. Gay was the common town and table-talk for some time, kept up by the grub-street wits that made many a hearty meal upon it, ('till something more in season threw it out of the bill of fare.) It is manifest, this truffing beginning put an end to Pope's friendship for Cibber if he realy had any; and the continuance of his enmity, for near thirty years, is no mark of humanity. It is accounted unmanly and mean, to give a person repeated strokes, when he has not spirit enough to resent the first; and yet that excellent poet, had so much bitterness in his sweet wit, (if we may be allowed to say so,) that to many it palls the taste. The reader in this supplement, will not find Cibber's name once mentioned: The reason is apparent; he had not done any thing to provoke; but since the year of the three Hours after Marriage, (1717) he has a dart at him in almost every thing he publishes--In his epistle to doctor Arbuthnot he plainly says--(mentioning a play he was desired to recommend to the stage)
There (thank my stars) my whole commission ends, Cibber and I, are luckily no friends.
And yet it is well known, Mr. Cibber never made the least return, till his letter to Pope 1742, and then, he declar'd to many of his friends, he did it, because he had no other business on his hands, and that he might not be forgot before he was dead. Of all the foibles Mr. Cibber might be guilty of, those that are conversant with him, know malice, envy or slander, are not in the composition.
When a person informed him, Pope was no more; he seem'd much concern'd, and reply'd, I am griev'd for the loss of so great a man; I was never his enemy, and for those spots he seem'd to dash on me, his admirable wit made me overlook them all--and I am convinced, he sometimes wrote against the sentiments of his heart. Nay we are informed, Pope was heard to say in his last sickness--
"My satires against Cibber, are not my last repented faults."
But we are not willing to part with this Three Hours after Marriage, without relating an odd accident, that happened the 4th night of that play; it may be called a scene of distress, in a pantomime that befell an unlucky lover; for it was all in dumb show: We are sure, it created more vociferous mirth in the spectators, than any other passage of wit or satire; and the enemies to the Triumvir, declared it was the best thing in the whole piece. Had Hogarth been present (as he might have been) his inimitable pencil would, have stronger ideas, of the comic distress, than any description can do: But, perhaps, contemplating the scene may strengthen the readers imagination.
Cibber, was the mummy, curiously wrapt and folded with proper bandages, painted with false Egyptian Hieroglyphics, but however false the heraldry, his arms were at liberty. The droll facetious Penkethman, was that amphibious devourer, the crocodile, where the painter, the tailor, with other artificers had us'd their utmost skill: The monster's two foremost legs, were fitted to his arms, and Penky's legs, serv'd for those of the monster. He made a formidable figure as he crawl'd in, with his great head, and long tail; for, tho' he was ordered to be carry'd as a stuff'd monster, he would creep, as crocodiles should do on dry land: When he stood upright, his face peep'd from the belly of the monster; form'd monstrously to charm indeed! The case that brought in the mummy-lover, was plac'd in the center of the stage behind, and the door, or, open part, stood facing the audience upright--While they were employ'd in their courtship, displaying their charms as lovers; Penkethman, the crocodile, boasting much in the beauty of his long tail, and, traversing the stage, unfortunately made such a parade with it, that he threw down Sarsnet (the attendant and confidant of Mrs. Townley) flat upon her back, where she discovered more linnen than other habitiments, and, more skin and flesh than linnen, this began the first uproar in the audience. The persons of the drama upon the stage, strove to screen the accident as much as they could, and the crocodile, Penkethman, (whose face was a farce) rising from giving his assistance _to the fallen maid_; unluckilly, his back encountered the case for the mummy, which stood upright, openmouth'd, to receive him, that case and crocodile fell backward with such violent noise, that the body of the crocodile lay intirely inhum'd in the case of the mummy, all absorb'd but the head and tail of the monster; and the rapidity of the fall, had so forcibly jamm'd all that appertain'd to Pinky's fair form, that all the strength and skill of twenty people running to the assistance of the monster, could not disengage him, till Pallas in the likeness of hammers, saws, chissels, and other implements in the hands of those that knew their use, releas'd him. This scene took more than half an hour in the action; with what roar of applause the reader must form in his own Imagination. Many of the audience the next night, made an interruption of some minutes, to have the scene repeated, which so much allarmed poor Sarsnet, that she run off the stage extremely frighted, which provok'd a peal of laughter from the spectators.
You see sir, it is some danger, to give a woman room to talk; but I'll make an end with Bromias's last speech in the second act of Amphytrion, _viz._
"The tongue is the last moving thing about a woman.
* * * * *
PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
=First Year (1946-47)=
Numbers 1-6 out of print.
=Second Year (1947-1948)=
7. John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_ (1711); and a section on Wit from _The English Theophrastus_ (1702).
8. Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684).
9. T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_ (1736).
10. Corbyn Morris' _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc_. (1744).
11. Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717).
12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood Krutch.
=Third Year (1948-1949)=
13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre_ (1720).
14. Edward Moore's _The Gamester_ (1753).
15. John Oldmixon's _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley_ (1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's _The British Academy_ (1712).
16. Nevil Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673).
17. Nicholas Rowe's _Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespeare_ (1709).
18. "Of Genius," in _The Occasional Paper_, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719); and Aaron Hill's Preface to _The Creation_ (1720).
=Fourth Year (1949-1950)=
19. Susanna Centlivre's _The Busie Body_ (1709).
20. Lewis Theobold's _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).
21. Out of print.
22. Samuel Johnson's _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two _Rambler_ papers (1750).
23. John Dryden's _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681).
24. Out of print.
=Fifth Year (1950-1951)=
25. Thomas Baker's _The Fine Lady's Airs_ (1709).
26. Charles Macklin's _The Man of the World_ (1792).
27. Out of print.
28. John Evelyn's _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); and _A Panegyric to Charles the Second_ (1661).
29. Daniel Defoe's _A Vindication of the Press_ (1718).
30. Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper's _Letters Concerning Taste_, 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong's _Miscellanies_ (1770).
=Sixth Year (1951-1952)=
31. Thomas Gray's _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751); and _The Eton College Manuscript_.
32. Prefaces to Fiction; Georges de Scudéry's Preface to _Ibrahim_ (1674), etc.
33. Henry Gally's _A Critical Essay_ on Characteristic-Writings (1725).
34. Thomas Tyers' A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1785).
35. James Boswell, Andrew Erskine, and George Dempster. _Critical Strictures on the New Tragedy of Elvira, Written by Mr. David Mallock_ (1763).
36. Joseph Harris's _The City Bride_ (1696).
=Seventh Year (1952-1953)=
37. Thomas Morrison's _A Pindarick Ode on Painting_ (1767).
38. John Phillips' _A Satyr Against Hypocrites_ (1655).
39. Thomas Warton's _A History of English Poetry_.
40. Edward Bysshe's _The Art of English Poetry_ (1708).
41. Bernard Mandeville's _A Letter to Dion_ (1732).
42. Prefaces to Four Seventeenth-Century Romances.
=Eighth Year (1953-1954)=
43. John Baillie's _An Essay on the Sublime_ (1747).
44. Mathias Casimire Sarbiewski's _The Odes of Casimire_, Translated by G. Hils (1646).
45. John Robert Scott's _Dissertation on the Progress of the Fine Arts_.
46. Selections from Seventeenth Century Songbooks.
47. Contemporaries of the _Tatler_ and _Spectator_.
48. Samuel Richardson's Introduction to _Pamela_.
=Ninth Year (1954-1955)=
49. Two St. Cecilia's Day Sermons (1696-1697).
50. Hervey Aston's _A Sermon Before the Sons of the Clergy_, (1745).
51. Lewis Maidwell's _An Essay upon the Necessity and Excellency of Education_ (1705).
52. Pappity Stampoy's _A Collection of Scotch Proverbs_ (1663).
53. Urian Oakes' _The Soveraign Efficacy of Divine Providence_ (1682).
54. Mary Davys' _Familiar Letters Betwixt a Gentleman and a Lady_ (1725).
=Tenth Year (1955-1956)=
55. Samuel Say's _An Essay on the Harmony, Variety, and Power of Numbers_ (1745).
56. _Theologia Ruris, sive Schola & Scala Naturae_ (1686).
57. Out of print.
58. Eighteenth-Century Book Illustrations.
59. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. I, Comedies, Part I.
60. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. I, Comedies, Part II.
=Eleventh Year (1956-1957)=
61. Elizabeth Elstob's _An Apology for the Study of Northern Antiquities_ (1715).
62. _Two Funeral Sermons_ (1635).
63. _Parodies of Ballad Criticism_ (1711-1787).
64. _Prefaces to Three Eighteenth-Century Novels_ (1708, 1751, 1797).
65. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. II, Histories, Part I.
66. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. II, Histories, Part II.
=Twelfth Year (1957-1958)=
67. Henry Fielding's _The Voyages of Mr. Job Vinegar_ (1740).
68. Elkanah Settle's _The Notorious Impostor_ (1692) and _Diego Redivivus_ (1692).
69. _An Historical View of the ... Political Writers in Great Britain_ (1740).
70. G.W., _Magazine_, or _Animadversions on the English Spelling_ (1703).
71. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. III, Tragedies, Part I.
72. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare._ Vol. III, Tragedies, Part II.
=Thirteenth Year (1958-1959)=
73. Samuel Johnson's _Notes to Shakespeare_. Vol. III, Tragedies, Part III.
74. _Seventeenth-Century Tales of the Supernatural._
75. John Joyne, _A Journal_ (1679).
76. André Dacier. _Preface to Aristotle's Art of Poetry_ (1705).
77-78. David Hartley, _Various Conjectures on the Perception, Motion, and Generation of Ideas_ (1746).
=Fourteenth Year (1959-1960)=
79. William Herbert, Third Earl of Pembroke's _Poems_ (1660).
80. [P. Whalley's] _An Essay on the Manner of Writing History_ (1746).
81. Two Burlesques of Lord Chesterfield's Letters _The Graces_ (1774) _The Fine Gentleman's Etiquette_ (1776).
82. Henry Fuseli's _Remarks on the Writings and Conduct of J. J. Rousseau_ (1767).
83. _Sawney and Colley_ (1742) and other Pope Pamphlets.
84. Richard Savage's _An Author To Be Lett_ (1729).
=Fifteenth Year (1960-1961)=
85-86. _Essays on the Theatre from Eighteenth-Century Periodicals_. Selected, with an introduction, by John Loftis. [double issue]
87. Daniel Defoe, _Of Captain Misson and his Crew_ (1728). Introduction by Maximillian E. Novak.
88. Samuel Butler, _Poems_. Selected, with an introduction, by Alexander C. Spence.
89. Henry Fielding, _Ovid's Art of Love_ (1760). Introduction by Claude E. Jones.
90. Henry Needler, _Works_ (1728). Selected, with an introduction, by Marcia Allentuck.
* * * * *
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California
THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
_General Editors_
R. C. BOYS University of Michigan
RALPH COHEN University of California, Los Angeles
VINTON A. DEARING University of California, Los Angeles
LAWRENCE CLARK POWELL Wm. Andrews Clark Memorial Library
_Corresponding Secretary_: Mrs. EDNA C. DAVIS, Wm. Andrews Clark Memorial Library
The Society's purpose is to publish reprints (usually facsimile reproductions) of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century works. All income of the Society is devoted to defraying costs of publication and mailing.
Correspondence concerning subscriptions in the United States and Canada should be addressed to the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 2205 West Adams Boulevard, Los Angeles 18, California. Correspondence concerning editorial matters may be addressed to any of the general editors. The membership fee is $4.00 a year for subscribers in the United States and Canada and 15/- for subscribers in Great Britain and Europe. British and European subscribers should address B.H. Blackwell, Broad Street, Oxford, England.
Publications for 1961-1962
John Gay, Alexander Pope, and John Arbuthnot, _Three Hours After Marriage_ (1717). Introduction by John Harrington Smith. [double issue]
John Norris, _Cursory Reflections Upon a Book Call'd, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding_ (1690). Introduction by Gilbert D. McEwen.
An. Collins, _Divine Songs and Meditacions_ (1653). Introduction by Stanley Stewart.
An Essay on the _New Species of Writing Founded by_ Mr. _Fielding_ (1751). Introduction by Alan D. McKillop.
_Hanoverian Ballads._ Selected, with an Introduction, by John J. McAleer.
THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
_WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY_
2205 WEST ADAMS BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES 18, CALIFORNIA
Make check or money order payable to THE REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.