Dramatis Personæ
p. 123 Dramatis Personæ. I have added to the list ‘Salvator, Father to Lorenzo and Laura.’ ‘Ismena’ is spelled ‘Ismenia’ throughout by 1724.
Act I: Scene i
p. 124, l. 10 Should those. 4to 1671 reads ‘Dwell’st perceive us’ as a separate line. Throughout the play, except in lines as this specially noted, I carefully follow the metrical division of 4to 1671. 1724 prints many speeches and whole scenes as prose which the quarto gives as verse. It is noticeable that the edition of 1711 follows the quarto.
p. 125, l. 17 Bays. 1724 ‘Bay’.
Act I: Scene ii
p. 127, l. 31 Exit Pietro. 1724 ‘Exit.’ which would tend to a confusion here.
p. 131, l. 1 Thinking. 4to 1671 ends this line at ‘Life’ and makes ‘Might ... Virtue’ a second line.
Act I: Scene iii
p. 133, l. 15 accompted. 1724 ‘accounted’.
p. 134, l. 34 a my. 1724 ‘on my’.
p. 137, l. 15 They retire. 4to 1671 ‘Exeunt.’
Act I: Scene iv
p. 137, l. 16 Scene IV. The Same. All previous editions ‘Scene IV.’
p. 140, l. 28 fixt. 1724 ‘fit’.
p. 141, l. 2 me alone. 1724 ‘me all alone’.
p. 141, l. 28 Ism. I can. 1724 wrongly gives this speech to Isabella.
p. 144, l. 4 if there need an Oath between us— 1724 ‘is there need of Oaths between us?’
Act II: Scene i
p. 144, l. 15 Gal. My Lord. All previous editions give Galliard’s lines with speech-prefix ‘Ser.’
p. 145, l. 30 An. 4to 1671 ‘And’.
p. 146, l. 30 Exit. I have supplied this stage direction.
Act II: Scene ii
p. 146, l. 31 Antonio’s House. I have added the locale.
p. 147, l. 10 hurt ones. 4to 1671 ‘hurts one’. 1724 ‘hurt one’.
p. 147, l. 16 Cure. 1724 ‘spare’.
Act II: Scene iii
p. 152, l. 18 The Street. I have supplied this locale.
p. 152, l. 32 being retir’d. 1724 ‘retires’.
p. 154, l. 34 Pag. All previous editions here give speech-prefix ‘Boy’. The alteration from ‘Page’ to ‘Boy’ is quite unnecessary.
p. 155, l. 13 Lor. and Page run. All previous editions ‘Lor. runs away’, but obviously the Page accompanies his master.
Act II: Scene iv
p. 156, l. 1 Antonio’s House. I have supplied this locale.
p. 157, l. 10 Puts on the Veil. 1724 merely reads ‘Exeunt.’
Act II: Scene v
p. 157, l. 12 A Chamber. I have supplied the locale.
p. 157, l. 29 Exit Page. I have added this stage direction.
p. 158, l. 17 you will believe. 1724 omits ‘will’.
Act III: Scene i
p. 160, l. 7 A Room. I have supplied the locale.
p. 161, l. 23 you’re. 1671 ‘your’.
Act III: Scene ii
p. 163, l. 19 A Street. I have supplied this locale.
Act III: Scene ii
p. 171, l. 30 Galliard. 4to 1671 has ‘with a Galliard’, and to Galliard’s lines gives speech-prefix ‘Serv.’
p. 172, l. 6 and his Page. I have marked the Page’s entrance here. It is not noted by previous editions.
p. 173, l. 16 Ex. Page. 4to 1671 ‘Ex. Boy.’
p. 174, l. 6 Bone Mine. 4to 1671 ‘Bon Meen’.
p. 174, l. 13 with Musick. I have added these words.
Act IV: Scene i
p. 176, l. 30 did not hate. 1724 omits ‘not’.
p. 177, l. 22 never. 4to 1671 ‘ever’.
p. 177, l. 32 Joys. 4to 1671 ‘Joy’.
p. 178, l. 10 Ism. Know it was. Both 4to 1671, and 1724 read ‘No, it was’, which does not give sense. There can be little doubt ‘Know’ is the correct reading.
p. 178, l. 18 slight. 1724 ‘flight’.
Act IV: Scene ii
p. 178, l. 29 A Street. I have added this locale, which no previous edition marks.
Act IV: Scene iii
p. 183, l. 25 Frederick’s Chamber. I have added this locale.
p. 184, l. 22 oft. 1724 ‘soft’.
p. 185, l. 35 Exeunt Musick. I have inserted this stage direction.
p. 186, l. 3 Exit Page. I have supplied this.
Act IV: Scene iv
p. 187, l. 23 A Street. I have added this locale.
p. 188, l. 3 Antonio’s Valet. 4to 1671 simply ‘Vallet.’ 1724 ‘Valet.’ The servant is obviously Antonio’s man.
p. 188, l. 27 foutering. 1724 ‘soutering’. Critical Note
p. 189, l. 2 To some Tune like him. Only in 4to 1671.
p. 189, l. 9 And quite unveil’d. Only 4to 1671 gives this line.
Act IV: Scene v
p. 190, l. 31 Antonio’s House. I have supplied the locale.
Act V: Scene i
p. 193, l. 10 Laura’s Chamber. I have added the locale.
Act V: Scene ii
p. 197, l. 30 A Grove. I have supplied this locale.
p. 199, l. 36 Teresia’s. 4to 1671 ‘Teretia’s’.
p. 200, l. 3 certain ’tis. 4to 1671 ‘it is certain’.
Act V: Scene iii
p. 200, l. 28 What Arms. 4to 1671 gives this line to Pietro.
p. 201, l. 21 Millanoise. 1724 ‘Milanese’.
p. 201, l. 22 Genovese. 1724 ‘Genoese’.
p. 201, l. 27 a Maltan who pretends. 1724 ‘the Maltese, who pretend’.
p. 201, l. 30 a Cicilian. 1724 ‘the Sicilians’.
p. 201, l. 31 his. 1724 ‘their’. The alterations made by 1724 and the confusion of plurals and singular in this passage, which I have left untouched, are noticeable.
p. 202, l. 27 sets. 1724 ‘sits’.
p. 203, l. 5 others. 1724 ‘other’.
p. 203, l. 12 O’. 4to 1671 ‘A’.’
p. 204, l. 20 their. 4to 1671 ‘the’.
p. 206, l. 33 Visors. 1724 ‘Vizards’.
p. 207, l. 5 Braves. 1724 ‘Bravoes’.
p. 209, l. 19 ’Twas a Temptation. 1724 quite erroneously gives this speech to Cloris.
p. 212, l. 13 Clo. speaks aside to Guil. 1724 ‘Aside to Guil.’
p. 212, l. 24 Curtain Falls. Only in 4to 1671.
Epilogue
p. 213, l. 5 E’en humble. 4to 1671 omits ‘E’en’.
p. 213, l. 22 Leadies. 1724 ‘Ladies’.
Prologue
p. 121 Great Johnson’s way. cf. what Mrs. Behn says in her ‘Epistle to the Reader’ prefacing The Dutch Lover (Vol. I, p. 224), of the Jonsonian enthusiast: ‘a man the most severe of Johnson’s Sect.’
p. 121 Nokes and Angel. The two celebrated low comedians. Angel died in the spring of 1673. He was a great farceur, but gagged unmercifully, to the no small annoyance of the poets.
p. 121 Cataline. Jonson’s tragedy was revived with great splendour at the King’s House, Friday, 18 December, 1668, and remained a stock play until the retirement of Hart (who excelled in Catiline) at the Union in 1682. Michael Mohun was famous in Cethegus, and Mrs. Corey in Sempronia. Pepys found the play itself rather dull as a whole ‘though most fine in clothes, and a fine Scene of the Senate, and of a fight, as ever I saw in my life.’ A year before its actual production his crony, Harry Harris, a member of the rival theatre had ‘talked of Catiline which is to be suddenly acted at the King’s House; and there all agree that it cannot be well done at that house, there not being good actors enough; and Burt acts Cicero, which they all conclude he will not be able to do well. The King gives them £500 for robes, there being, as they say, to be sixteen scarlet robes.’ (11 December, 1667.) In the first quarto (1672), of Buckingham’s The Rehearsal, Bayes refers to Catiline saying that his design in a certain scene is ‘Roman cloaths, guilded Truncheons, forc’d conceipt, smooth Verse, and a Rant.’ The words ‘Roman cloaths’ are omitted in all subsequent editions.
p. 121 the Comick Hat. In 1670 there was produced at the Theatre Royal, Dryden’s The Conquest of Granada, Part I. The witty prologue was ‘spoken by Mrs. Ellen Gwyn’ (who acted Almahide) ‘in a Broad-Brimm’d Hat, and Waist Belt’. It commences thus:—
This jest was first of t’other house’s making,
And five times tried, has never fail’d of taking;
For ’twere a shame a poet should be kill’d
Under the shelter of so broad a shield.
This is the hat, whose very sight did win ye
To laugh and clap as tho’ the devil were in ye.
As then, for Nokes, so now I hope you’ll be
So dull, to laugh, once more, for love of me.
Two slightly different explanations are given of the jest. Theatrical tradition has it that Dryden supplied Nell Gwynne, who was plump and petite, with this hat of the circumference of a cart wheel, in ridicule of a hat worn by Nokes of the Duke’s company whilst playing Ancient Pistol. It is again said that in May, 1670, whilst the Court was at Dover to receive the Duchess of Orleans, the Duke’s Company played there Shadwell’s The Sullen Lovers, and Caryl’s Sir Salomon; or, The Cautious Coxcomb, in which latter comedy Nokes acted Sir Arthur Addle, a bawling fop. The dress of the French gallants attending the Duchess was characterised by an excessively short laced scarlet or blue coat, a very broad waist-belt and a wide-leaved hat. Nokes appeared on the stage in a still shorter coat, a huger waist-belt, and a hat of preposterous dimensions. The Duke of Monmouth buckled his own sword to the actor’s side, and, according to old Downes, our comedian looked more like a dressed-up ape or a quiz on the French than Sir Arthur Addle. The English Court was straightway convulsed with laughter at this mimicry, which seems, to say the least, in highly questionable taste. When Nell Gwynne appeared and burlesqued the biter, Charles II, who was present at the first performance of The Conquest of Granada, well nigh died of merriment, and her verve in delivering Dryden’s witty lines wholly completed her conquest of the King. Nell Gwynne did not appear on the boards after 1670.
p. 121 The Jig and Dance. cf. note (on p. 43), Vol. III, p. 477: A Jigg (The Town Fop). The Jig is in this prologue clearly distinct from a dance. Act iv, sc. III (p. 185): ‘Cloris dances a Jig’— (i.e. the simple dance). Cross-reference: The Town Fop
Act I: Scene iii
p. 133 Capriol. Capriole (French) signifies a leap made by a horse without advancing.
Act I: Scene iv
p. 140 Clarina why thus clouded? Similar expressions in Davenant’s The Siege of Rhodes (4to 1663), Part 1, the Second Entry:—
Mustapha. I bring the morning pictur’d in a cloud.
And in Sir William Barclay’s The Lost Lady (folio, 1639), Act ii:—
Enter Phillida veiled who talks to Ergasto aside and then goes out.
Cleon. From what part of the town comes this fair day
In a cloud that makes you look so cheerfully?
are burlesqued in The Rehearsal, iii, V:—
Vols. Can vulgar vestments high-born beauty shroud?
Thou bring’st the Morning pictur’d in a Cloud.
Act III: Scene ii
p. 164 ... is welcome. Buckingham parodies this in The Rehearsal, iv, III:—
Cordelia. My lieges, news from Volscius the prince.
Usher. His news is welcome, whatso’er it be.
Smith. How, sir, do you mean that? Whether it be good or bad?
Act III: Scene iii
p. 172 tabering. Beating on; tapping; drumming. This rare word occurs in Nahum, ii, VII: ‘Her maids shall lead her as with the voice of doves tabering upon their breasts.’
Act IV: Scene ii
p. 180 Hansel’d. To handsel is to inaugurate with some ceremony of an auspicious kind, e.g. to begin the New Year by presenting a new comer with a gift.
p. 183 She leapt into the River. The Rehearsal, Act v, burlesques this:— ‘The Argument of the Fifth Act ... Cloris in despair, drowns herself: and Prince Pretty-man, discontentedly, walks by the River side.’
Act IV: Scene iv
p. 188 foutering. Fouter (Fr. foutre; Lat. futuere), verbum obscaenum. cf. the noun in phrase ‘to care not a fouter’ (footra, footre, foutre), 2 Henry IV, v, III. To ‘fouter’ is also used (a vulgarism and a provincialism) in a much mitigated sense = to meddle about aimlessly, to waste time and tongue doing nothing, as of a busybody. Text note
p. 189 Niperkin. This would seem to be a slang expression, as Grose gives it meaning ‘a small measure’. It was also used for the actual stone jug. cf. D’Urfey, Pills to Purge Melancholy (1719): ‘Quart-pot, Pint-pot, nipperkin.’ N.E.D., quoting this passage, explains as ‘a small quantity of wine, ale, or spirits.’
p. 190 Camphire Posset. Camphor had a high reputation as an antaphrodisiac. cf. Dryden, The Spanish Friar (1681), Act i, where Gomez says of his wife: ‘I’ll get a physician that shall prescribe her an ounce of camphire every morning, for her breakfast, to abate incontinency’; also Congreve, The Way of the World (1700), iv, XII: ‘You are all camphire and frankincense, all chastity and odour.’
Note to p. 121: The Jig and Dance.
Town Fop note:
A Jigg. There were, in Post-Restoration times, two interpretations of the word Jig. Commonly speaking it was taken to mean exactly what it would now, a simple dance. Nell Gwynne and Moll Davis were noted for the dancing of Jigs. cf. Epilogue to Buckingham’s The Chances (1682):—
The Author dreads the strut and meen
Of new prais’d Poets, having often seen
Some of his Fellows, who have writ before,
When Nel has danc’d her Jig, steal to the Door,
Hear the Pit clap, and with conceit of that
Swell, and believe themselves the Lord knows what.
Thus at the end of Lacy’s The Old Troop (31 July, 1668), we have ‘a dance of two hobby horses in armour, and a Jig.’ Also shortly before the epilogue in Shadwell’s The Sullen Lovers (1668) we read, ‘Enter a Boy in the habit of Pugenello and traverses the stage, takes his chair and sits down, then dances a Jig.’
But it must be remembered that beside the common meaning there was a gloss upon the word derived from Elizabethan stage practice. In the prologue to The Fair Maid of the Inn (licensed 1626), good plays are spoken of as often scurvily treated, whilst
A Jigge shall be clapt at, and every rhime
Prais’d and applauded by a clam’rous chyme.
The Pre-Restoration Jig was little other indeed than a ballad opera in embryo lasting about twenty-five minutes and given as an after-piece. It was a rhymed farce in which the dialogue was sung or chanted by the characters to popular ballad tunes. But after the Restoration the Jig assumed a new and more serious complexion, and came eventually to be dovetailed with the play itself, instead of being given at the fag end of the entertainment. Mr. W. J. Lawrence, the well-known theatrical authority to whom I owe much valuable information contained in this note, would (doubtless correctly) attribute the innovation to Stapylton and Edward Howard, both of whom dealt pretty freely in these Jigs. Stapylton has in Act v of The Slighted Maid (1663) a ‘Song in Dialogue’ between Aurora and Phoebus with a chorus of Cyclops, which met with some terrible parody in The Rehearsal (cf. the present editor’s edition of The Rehearsal, p. 145). Indeed all extrinsic songs in dialogue, however serious the theme, were considered ‘Jigs’. A striking example would be the Song of the Spirits in Dryden’s Tyrannic Love, Act iv.
In Post-Restoration days a ballad sung in the streets by two persons was frequently called a Jig, presumably because it was a ‘song in dialogue’. Numerous examples are to be found amongst the Roxburgh Ballads.
The Jig introduced in Sir Timothy Tawdrey would seem to have been the simple dance although not improbably an epithalamium was also sung.
Scene I. A Room with several Tables.
Scene II. The Council-Table.
Scene III. Surelove’s House.
Scene I. A Pavilion.
Scene II. The Widow Ranter’s Hall.
Scene III. A Sevana.
Scene IV. The Council-Table.
Scene I. The Country Court.
Scene II. The Sevana.
Scene I. A Temple.
Scene II. A Field of Tents.
Scene III. A Tent.
Scene I. The Sevana.
Scene II. Wellman’s Tent.
Scene III. A thick Wood.
Scene IV. Another part of the Wood.
Scene V. A Grove.
Bacon, General of the English in Virginia, has fought with great success against the Indians and repeatedly beaten back their tribes, although the Supreme Council, by whom the Colony is governed, have refused him a commission, and, in spite of his victories, persist in treating him as a rebel and a traitor. This Council indeed is composed of a number of cowards and rogues, who through sheer malice and carping jealousy attribute Bacon’s prowess to his known passion for Semernia, the Indian Queen, and who feign to think that he fights merely with the hope of slaying her husband, the King Cavernio. These rascals are none the less mightily afraid of the general’s valour and spirit, so they determine to entice him from his camp under various specious pretexts, and then, once he is completely in their power, to have him executed or assassinated. With this object in view they send a friendly letter asking him to attend the Council, to accept a regular commission, and to raise new forces. On his way to the town Bacon is attacked by an ambush of soldiers, whom he beats off with the help of one of his lieutenants, Fearless, backed by Lieutenant Daring and a troop of his own men, who capture Whimsey and Whiff, two very prominent justices, instigators of the plot. He accordingly appears before the Council with a couple of prisoners. The populace, who are all for their hero, realizing the treachery, raise a riot, and throw the Councillors into a state of the utmost confusion and alarm. They spur themselves to action, however, and under the leadership of Colonel Wellman, Deputy Governor, proceed to take the field against Bacon, who is declared an open and lawless rebel. When he appears the soldiers, none the less, join themselves to their hero, and as at the same moment news is brought that the Indians have risen and are attacking the town, Bacon is induced to lead the troops against the foe; and in a pitched battle Cavernio is slain. That night whilst his army is revelling after their victory the Council and their party with infamous treachery suddenly attack the camp. There are further skirmishes with a remnant of the Indian fugitives, and in one of these frays Bacon accidentally wounds Semernia, who is flying disguised in man’s attire. He recognizes her voice, and she sinks into his arms to die. As he is weeping over her body Fearless rushes in with drawn sword shouting that the day is all but lost. Bacon, his mistress dead, deeming that his men are overcome by the attack from the town and that he will himself be captured, takes poison which he carries concealed in the pommel of his sword, whilst Daring and his soldiers are heard shouting ‘Victory! Victory!’ The hero, however, expires at the moment his men have conquered, but the Council speedily come to terms, naming with a commission Daring as General, whilst Colonel Wellman announces his intention of weeding this body of rogues and cowards against the arrival of the new Governor who is expected from England.
Daring, upon his commission, is wedded to the Widow Ranter, first mistress and then wife of old Colonel Ranter, recently deceased, a wealthy, buxom virago who has followed her soldier during the fighting in man’s attire and even allowed herself to be taken prisoner by a young gallant, Hazard, just landed from England, and who has occupied his time in an amour with a certain Mrs. Surelove. Hazard, upon his arrival, meets an old acquaintance, Friendly, who loves and is eventually united to Crisante, daughter to Colonel Downright; whilst Parson Dunce, the Governor’s chaplain, is made to marry Mrs. Flirt, the keeper of a hostelry, a good dame with whom he has been a little too familiar on a promise of matrimony.
The admirable comic scenes and characters of The Widow Ranter are original invention, but Mrs. Behn has founded the serious and historical portion of her play upon a contemporary pamphlet, Strange News from Virginia being a full and true account of the Life and Death of Nathaniel Bacon esq. London: printed for Wm. Harris, 1677. With regard to the catastrophe and Bacon’s love for the Indian Queen, Mrs. Behn has quite legitimately departed from the narrative, but otherwise she keeps fairly closely to her sources. There is also a History of Bacon and Ingram’s Rebellion in Virginia in 1675-76, written at the time but first published in 1867.
The Dictionary of National Biography gives a very ample yet concise account of Bacon, with valuable references to original documents. He was the son of Sir Thomas Bacon of Friston Hall, Suffolk. Born in 1642, about 1673 he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward Duke, Bart., and shortly afterwards in a spirit of roving adventure emigrated to Virginia. Here he was elected a member of the Council, and his estates being especially exposed to Indian raids the volunteer colonists chose him General. The Governor, however, delayed to send the necessary commission, and Bacon having in this interval attacked a band of Indian marauders was promptly declared a rebel. The Governor was thereupon forced to yield by a general revolt, and in a second expedition Bacon defeated the Indians with terrific slaughter. A little later when reinforcements had arrived the Governor again declared him an outlaw, but after a brief struggle was himself obliged to take refuge at sea, whilst Jamestown fell into the hands of the victorious General, who not being able to garrison the houses, burned it to the ground. In the midst of his success, whilst he was busied with new plans for the welfare and protection of the colonists, Bacon died suddenly, 1676. He left one daughter, Mary, who married Hugh Chamberlain, M.D., physician to Queen Anne. Mrs. Behn has drawn his character with remarkable accuracy. Even his enemies were obliged to allow he possessed extraordinary ability, and he won all by the grace and charm of his manner. Oldys, in a MS. note on Langbaine (Mrs. Behn), attributes to the colonist A Historical Discourse of the Government of England (1647), but the date of publication sufficiently shows that the antiquary is palpably in error.
Langbaine in his note on The Widow Ranter abruptly and sweepingly remarks ‘Plot from the known story of Cassius,’ which the Biographia Dramatica yet more erroneously expands as follows: ‘The tragedy part of it, particularly the catastrophe of Bacon, is borrowed from the well-known story of Cassius, who, on the supposition of his friend Brutus being defeated, caused himself to be put to death by the hand of his freedman Dandarus.’ C. Cassius Longinus was defeated at Philippi (B.C. 42), by Antony, and ignorant that the left wing commanded by Brutus had conquered Octavius, he straightway commanded his freedman Pindarus to put an end to his life. It is strange that both authorities should have made this mistake, the more so as Bacon expressly alludes to the fate of Hannibal, from whose history, and not that of Cassius, Mrs Behn doubtless borrowed the idea of her hero’s suicide. Cassius is indeed alluded to but casually, and not by Bacon’s self. Hannibal had fled to the court of Prusias, King of Bithynia, who, unable to resist the demands of the Romans, eventually sent troops to arrest his guest. The great Carthaginian, however, having provided himself with poison in case of such an event, swallowed the venomed drug to prevent himself falling into the hands of his enemies. Dullman, Timorous Cornet, Whimsey, Whiff, and the other Justices of the Peace who appear in this play are aptly described in Oroonoko, where Mrs. Behn speaks of the Governor’s Council ‘who (not to disgrace them, or burlesque the Government there) consisted of such notorious villains as Newgate ever transported; and, possibly, originally were such who understood neither the laws of God or man, and had no sort of principles to make them worthy of the name of men; but at the very council-table would contradict and fight with one another, and swear so bloodily, that it was terrible to hear and see them. (Some of them were afterwards hanged, when the Dutch took possession of the place, others sent off in chains.)’
When The Widow Ranter; or, The History of Bacon in Virginia was produced at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1690—the year after Mrs. Behn’s death—owing to the slipshod and slovenly way in which it was put on, or rather, ‘murdered’, to use the phrase of the dedication, it did not meet with the success so capital a piece fully deserved. Such ample and needless omissions were made that the intrigue soon became hopelessly fogged, many incidents seeming absolutely disjointed and superfluous. For not only were heavier scenes, including the apparition of Cavernio, cut, but the essential comic relief was woefully maltreated. The Court House opening of Act iii was expunged in its entirety, whilst other episodes were so mangled and the speeches so pruned that they proved practically unintelligible. Again, the play was badly cast. Indifferent performers such as Barnes, Baker, Cudworth, were entrusted with rôles they were incapable of acting, whilst Daring, the dashing, gallant, and handsome young officer, who is loved by the Widow, was alloted to Sanford, of all men most supremely unfitted for the part. Indeed, it would seem that the casting was done on purpose perversely and malignly to damn the play. Samuel Sanford, who had joined Davenant’s company within a year of their opening, had been forced by nature, being low of stature and crooked of person, rather than by choice, into a line denoted by such characters as Iago, Creon in Dryden and Lee’s Oedipus, Malignii, Osmund the wizard in King Arthur. ‘An excellent actor in disagreeable characters’ Cibber terms him, and old Aston sums him up thus: ‘Mr. Sanford, although not usually deem’d an Actor of the first Rank, yet the Characters allotted him were such, that none besides, then, or since, ever topp’d; for his Figure, which was diminutive and mean, (being Round-shoulder’d, Meagre-fac’d, Spindle-shank’d, Splay-footed, with a sour Countenance and long lean Arms) render’d him a proper Person to discharge Jago, Foresight and Ma’lignij, in the Villain.—This Person acted strongly with his Face,—and (as King Charles said) was the best Villain in the World.’ The performance of an actor with such a marked personality and unpleasantly peculiar talents as are thus enumerated, in the rôle of Daring must been grotesque and distasteful to a degree. In such an accumulation of unfortunate circumstances there could have been no other event than the failure of the play, which was so complete as effectually to bar any chance of subsequent revival. Indeed, there seems to have been only one feature of any merit: Betty Currer, the original Aquilina in Venice Preserv’d, acted the name part with the greatest spirit and abandon.
Madam
Knowing Mrs. Behn in her Life-time design’d to Dedicate some of her Works to you, you have a Naturall Title, and claim to this and I could not without being unjust to her Memory, but fix your Name to it, who have not only a Wit above that of most of your Sex; but a goodness and Affability Extreamly Charming, and Engaging beyond Measure, and perhaps there are few to be found like you, that are so Eminent for Hospitallity, and a Ready and Generous Assistance to the distress’d and Indigent, which are Quallities that carry much more of Divinity with them, than a Puritannicall outward Zeal for Virtue and Religion.
Our Author, Madam, who was so true a Judge of Wit, was (no doubt of it) satisfyed in the Patroness she had pitcht upon: If ever she had occasion for a Wit and Sense like yours ’tis now, to Defend this (one of the last of her Works) from the Malice of her Enemies, and the ill Nature of the Critticks, who have had Ingratitude enough not to Consider the Obligations they had to her when Living; but to do those Gentlemen Justice, ’tis not (altogether) to be Imputed to their Critticism, that the Play had not that Success which it deserv’d, and was expected by her Friends; The main fault ought to lye on those who had the management of it. Had our Authour been alive she would have Committed it to the Flames rather than have suffer’d it to have been Acted with such Omissions as was made, and on which the Foundation of the Play Depended: For Example, they thought fit to leave out a Whole Scene of the Virginian Court of Judicature, which was a lively resemblance of that Country-Justice; and on which depended a great part of the Plot, and wherein were many unusuall and very Naturall Jests which would at least have made some sort of People laugh: In another Part of the Play is Omitted the appearance of the Ghost of the Indian King, kill’d by Bacon, and tho’ the like may have been Represented in other Plays, yet I never heard or found but that the sight was very agreeable to an Audience, and very Awfull: besides the Apparition of the Ghost was necessary, for it was that which struck a Terror in the Queen, and frighten’d her from heark’ning to the Love of Bacon, believing it a horrid thing to receive the Caresses and Embraces of her Husbands Murderer: And Lastly, many of the Parts being false Cast, and given to those whose Tallants and Genius’s suited not our Author’s Intention: These, Madam, are some of the Reasons that this Play was unsuccessfull, and the best Play that ever was writ must prove so: if it have the Fate to be Murder’d like this.
However, Madam, I can’t but believe you will find an hours diversion in the reading, and will meet with not only Wit, but true Comedy, (tho’ low) by reason many of the Characters are such only as our Newgate afforded, being Criminals Transported.
This play, Madam, being left in my hands by the Author to Introduce to the Publick, I thought my self oblig’d to say thus much in its defence, and that it was also a Duty upon me to choose a Patroness proper for it, and the Author having pitcht upon your Name to do Honour to some of her Works, I thought your Protection, could be so usefull to none, as to this, whose owning it may Silence the Malice of its Enemies; Your Wit and Judgment being to be Submitted to in all Cases; Besides your Natural Tenderness and Compassion for the Unfortunate, gives you in a manner another Title to it: The Preference which is due to you upon so many Accounts is therefore the Reason of this present Address, for at the Worst, if this Play should be so Unfortunate as not to be thought worthy of your Acceptance; Yet it is certain, that its worth any Man’s while to have the Honour of subscribing himself,
Madam,
Your Most Obedient Humble,
Servant,