The Works of Aphra Behn Volume Iii Part 53

_Guil_. No matter, her Love's worth a million; and, that's so great, that I'm sure she'll be content to carry my Soot basket after me.

_Isa_. Ah! I die, I die.

_Guil_. What, and I so kind?

[_Goes and kisses her, and blacks her face_.

_Isa_. Help! murder, murder!

_Guil_. Well, Gentlemen, I am something a better fortune than you believe me, by some thousands.

[_Shows_ Car. _his Writings_.

_Car_. Substantial and good! faith, Sir, I know not where you'll find a better fortune for your Daughter, as cases stand. [_To_ Francisco.

_Guil_. And, for the Viscount, Sir, gay Clothes, Money and Confidence will set me up for one, in any ground in Christendom.

_Car_. Faith, Sir, he's i'th' right; take him home to _Sevil_, your Neighbours know him not, and he may pa.s.s for what you please to make him; the Fellow's honest, witty and handsom.

_Fran_. Well, I have considered the matter: I was but a Leather-seller my self, and am grown up to a Gentleman; and, who knows but he, being a Chimney-sweeper, may, in time, grow up to a Lord? Faith, I'll trust to Fortune, for once--here--take her and rid me of one Plague, as you, I thank you, Sir, have done of another. [_To_ Carlos.

_Guil_. Prithee be pacified, thou shalt see me within this hour as pretty a fluttering Spark as any's in Town.--My n.o.ble Lord, I give you thanks and joy; for, you are happy too.

_Car_. As Love and Beauty can make me.

_Fran_. And I, as no d.a.m.n'd Wife, proud Daughter, or tormenting Chamber-maid can make me.

_Ant_. And I, as Heaven and _Clara_ can.

_--You base-born Beauties, whose ill-manner'd Pride, Th'industrious n.o.ble Citizens deride.

May you all meet with_ Isabella's _doom_.

_Guil_. _--And all such Husbands as the Count_ Guiliome.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Mrs. Barry, made by a Person of Quality.

_I Come not a Pet.i.tioner to sue, This Play the Author has writ down to you; 'Tis a slight Farce, five Days brought forth with ease, So very foolish that it needs must please; For though each day good Judges take offence, And Satir arms in Comedy's defence, You are still true to your _Jack-Pudding_ Sense. No Buffoonry can miss your Approbation, You love it as you do a new_ French _Fas.h.i.+on: Thus in true hate of Sense, and Wit's despite, Bantring and Shamming is your dear delight.

Thus among all the Folly's here abounding, None took like the new Ape-trick of Dumfounding.

If to make People laugh the business be, You Sparks better Comedians are than we; You every day out-fool ev'n_ Nokes _and_ Lee. _They're forc'd to stop, and their own Farces quit, T'admire the Merry-Andrews of the Pit; But if your Mirth so grate the Critick's ear, Your Love will yet more Harlequin appear.

--You everlasting Grievance of the Boxes, You wither'd Ruins of stum'd Wine and Poxes; What strange Green-sickness do you hope in Women Should make 'em love old Fools in new Point Linen?

The Race of Life you run off-hand too fast, Your fiery Metal is too hot to last; Your Fevers come so thick, your Claps so plenty, Most of you are threescore at five and twenty.

Our Town-bred Ladys know you well enough, Your courting Women's like your taking Snuff; Out of mere Idleness you keep a pother, You've no more need of one than of the other.

Ladies-- Wou'd you be quit of their insipid noise, And vain pretending take a Fool's advice; Of the faux Braves I've had some little trial, There's nothing gives 'em credit but Denial: As when a Coward will pretend to Huffing, Offer to fight, away sneaks Bully-Ruffian, So when these Sparks, whose business is addressing, In Love pursuits grow troublesom and pressing; When they affect to keep still in your eye, When they send_ Grisons _every where to spy, And full of c.o.xcomb dress and ogle high; Seem to receive their Charge, and face about, I'll p.a.w.n my life they never stand it out.

THE LUCKY CHANCE; OR, AN ALDERMAN'S BARGAIN.

ARGUMENT.

Harry Bellmour, having killed his man in a duel, flies to Brussels, perforce leaving behind him Leticia, to whom he is affianced. During his absence Sir Feeble Fainwou'd, a doting old alderman and his rival, having procured his pardon from the King to prevent it being granted if applied for a second time, and keeping this stratagem secret, next forges a letter as if from the Hague which describes in detail Bellmour's execution for killing a toper during a tavern brawl. He then plies his suit with such ardour that Leticia, induced by poverty and wretchedness, reluctantly consents to marry him. On the wedding morning Bellmour returns in disguise and intercepts a letter that conveys news of the arrival of Sir Feeble's nephew, Frank, whom his uncle has never seen. The lover straightway resolves to personate the expected newcomer, and he is a.s.sisted in his design by his friend Gayman, a town gallant, who having fallen into dire need is compelled to lodge, under the name of Wasteall, with a smith in Alsatia. His estate has been mortgaged to an old banker, Sir Cautious Fulbank, whose wife Julia he loves, and to her he pretends to have gone to Northamptons.h.i.+re to his uncle's death bed. He is discovered, unknown to himself, in his slummy retreat by Bredwel, Sir Cautious' prentice, who has to convey him a message with reference to the expiration of the mortgage, and who reveals the secret to Lady Fulbank. She promptly abstracts five hundred pounds from her husband's strong box and forwards it to her lover by Bredwel, disguised as a devil, with an amorous message purporting to be from some unknown bidding him attend at a certain trysting place that night without fail. Gayman, now able to redeem his forfeited estates, dresses in his finest clothes and appears at Sir Feeble Fainwou'd's wedding. Bellmour has meanwhile revealed himself to Leticia, who is plunged in despair at the nuptials. Lady Fulbank, who is present, greets Gayman and asks him to give her an a.s.signation in the garden, but he excuses himself in order to keep his prior appointment, and she leaves him in dissembled anger. Bredwel then in his satanic masquerade meets Gayman, and bringing him a roundabout way, introduces him into Sir Cautious' house, where, after having been entertained with a masque of dances and songs as by spirits, he is conducted to Lady Fulbank's chamber by her maid disguised as an ancient crone, and admitted to his mistress' embraces. Meanwhile Sir Feeble Fainwou'd, who just at the moment of entering the bridal chamber has been hurriedly fetched away by Bellmour under the pretext of an urgent message from Sir Cautious concerning some midnight plot and an outbreak in the city, arrives at the house in great terror, and Sir Cautious (not knowing the reason of so late a visit) and he sit opposite each other for a while, gaping and staring in amaze. Bredwel, to pa.s.s Gayman out undetected, ushers him through the room white-sheeted like a ghost, and the two old fools are well frightened, but eventually they conclude there has been some mistake or trick. Sir Feeble returns home to find Leticia with her jewels about to flee, but she succeeds in rea.s.suring him. Gayman now visits Lady Fulbank and gives her some account of his adventures with the she-devil, all of which he half jestingly ascribes to magic. Sir Cautious and various guests enter, dice are produced and, luck favouring the gallant, Gayman wins one hundred pounds from the old Banker, and a like sum from several others of the company. As the n.i.g.g.ardly Sir Cautious bewails his losses the victor offers to stake three hundred pounds against a night with Julia, the bargain, of course, being kept from the lady. After some rumination Sir Cautious accepts and Gayman wins the throw. That night he causes himself to be conveyed to Sir Cautious' house in a chest and Sir Cautious leads him to Lady Fulbank in bed, she supposing him to be her husband. Meanwhile Sir Feeble being with Leticia is about to enter her bed when from behind the curtains Bellmour appears unmasqued, dressed in a torn and blood-stained s.h.i.+rt and brandis.h.i.+ng a dagger. Sir Feeble flies in terror. The next morning Lady Fulbank discovers the trick which has been played upon her and rates both her husband and lover soundly. Bellmour and Leticia arriving throw themselves on her protection. Sir Feeble and Sir Cautious are at length obliged to acquiesce in the existing state of things and to resign their ladies to their two gallants. They are unable to protest even when Sir Feeble finds that his daughter Diana has married Bredwel instead of Sir Cautious' nephew Bearjest for whom she was designed, whilst the choused fop is wedded to Pert, Lady Fulbank's woman, to whom he had been previously contracted.

SOURCE.

The plot of _The Lucky Chance; or, An Alderman's Bargain_ is original save for the details of Lady Fulbank's design upon Gayman, when he is conveyed to her house by masqued devils and conducted to her chamber by Pert dressed as a withered beldame. In this Mrs. Behn exactly copies s.h.i.+rley's excellent comedy, _The Lady of Pleasure_, produced at the Private House in Drury Lane, October, 1635, (4to 1637). In the course of Lady Bornwell's intrigue with Kickshaw he is taken blindfold to the house of the procuress, Decoy, who, in the guise of a doting crone, leads him to a chamber where he imagines he is to meet a succubus, whilst the Lady, unknown to him, entertains him herself.

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

_The Lucky Chance; or, An Alderman's Bargain_, produced at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1687, was, with the exception of the disapproval of a certain pudibond clique, received with great favour, and kept the stage for a decade or more. During the summer season of 1718 there was, on 24 July, a revival, 'not acted twenty years,' of this witty comedy at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Gayman was played by Frank Leigh, son of the famous low comedian; Sir Feeble Fainwou'd by Bullock.

On 25 November, 1786, there was produced at Drury Lane a comedy by Mrs.

Hannah Cowley (1743-1809), a prolific but mediocre dramatist, ent.i.tled, _A School for Greybeards; or, The Mourning Bride_ (4to 1786 and 1787).

Genest writes: 'On the first night it struck me that I had seen something like the play before and when the 4th act came I was fully satisfied--that part of the plot which concerns Antonia, Henry, and Gasper [Donna Antonia (The Mourning Bride), Mrs. Crouch; Don Henry, Kemble; Don Gasper (a Greybeard), Parsons; Donna Seraphina, Miss Farren]; and even the outlines of Seraphina's character, are taken from _The Lucky Chance_--as Mrs. Behn's play, though a very good one is too indecent to be ever represented again. Mrs. Cowley might without any disgrace to herself have borrowed whatever she pleased provided she had made a proper acknowledgement--instead of which she says in her preface "--The idea of the business which concerns Antonia, Henry and Gasper was presented to me in an obsolete Comedy; I say the _idea_, for when it is known that in the original the scene lay among traders in London--and those traders of the lowest and most detestable manners, it will be conceived at once, that in removing it to Portugal and fixing the characters among the n.o.bility, it was hardly possible to carry with me _more_ than the idea"--the traders whom Mrs. Cowley mentions, are both Knights, the one an Alderman, the other a Banker.' Genest then compares various scenes and expressions from _The Lucky Chance_ with Mrs. Cowley and concludes 'The other scenes though they may differ in the dialogue yet agree in essentials--the scene in the 5th act between Alexis and Gasper bears the strongest resemblance to that between Sir Feeble and Sir Cautious in The Lucky Chance. Mrs. Cowley was ashamed to advance a direct lie, but she was not ashamed to insinuate a falsehood--_A Naeuio uel sumpsisti multa, si fateris; uel, si negas surripuisti_--Cicero.'

The strictures of our stage historian are entirely apposite and correct.

Henry, Don Gasper and Antonia of the Georgian comedy are none other but Bellmour, Sir Feeble, and Leticia. With regard to the reception of _The School for Greybeards_ 'the audience took needless offence at a scene in the 4th act, and an unfortunate expression in Young Bannister's part [Don Sebastian. Bannister, jun., also spoke the prologue], revived the opposition in the last scene--no more was heard till King [Don Alexis]

advanced to speak the last speech--some alteration was made on the 2nd night, and the play was acted 9 times or more in the course of the season, but never afterwards [It was played at Bath 28 October, 1813.

Chatterley acted Don Gasper; Miss Greville (from the Pantheon theatre), Donna Seraphina. It had little success]--it is a good Comedy and was very well acted.'

The audience must indeed have been qualmish prudes. Of all plays it is the most harmless. The scene in the fourth Act to which exception was taken seems to have been No. II, after the marriage of Gasper and Antonia, a most trifling and inept business. In Act V, IV, Alexis says to Viola: 'As for you Madam bread and water, and a dark chamber shall be your lot--' but Sebastian (Bannister, jun.), who has married Viola, breaks in crying: 'No, Sir,--I am the arbiter of her lot;--however, I confirm half your punishment; and a dark chamber she shall certainly have.' To this speech in the 4to Mrs. Cowley appends the following note: 'This is the expression, I am told, which had nearly prov'd fatal to the Comedy. I should not have printed it, but from the resolution I have religiously kept, of restoring every thing that was objected to.'

Imagination and ingenuity fail to fathom the cryptic indecency. _The School for Greybeards_ is, in fine, a modest and mediocre comedy of little value.

12 December, 1786, Walpole, writing from Berkeley Square to the Countess of Upper Ossary, says: 'To-night ... I am going to Mrs. Cowley's new play, which I suppose is as _instructive_ as the _Marriage of Figaro_, for I am told it approaches to those of Mrs. Behn in spartan delicacy; but I shall see Miss Farren, who, in my poor opinion, is the first of all actresses.' Writing three days later to the same lady he has: '_The Greybeards_ have certainly been chastised, for we did not find them at all gross. The piece is farcical and improbable, but has some good things, and is admirably acted.' Those 'good things' are entirely due to Mrs. Behn.

To the Right Honourable _Laurence_, Lord _Hyde_, Earl of _Rochester_, one of his Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council, Lord High Treasurer of _England_, and Knight of the n.o.ble Order of the Garter.

My Lord,

When I consider how Ancient and Honourable a Date Plays have born, how they have been the peculiar Care of the most Ill.u.s.trious Persons of _Greece_ and _Rome_, who strove as much to outdoe each other in Magnificence, (when by Turns they manag'd the great Business of the Stage, as if they had contended for the Victory of the Universe;) I say, my Lord, when I consider this, I with the greater a.s.surance most humbly address this Comedy to your Lords.h.i.+p, since by right of Antient Custom, the Patronage of Plays belong'd only to the great Men, and chiefest Magistrates. Cardinal _Richelieu_, that great and wise Statesman, said, That there was no surer Testimony to be given of the flouris.h.i.+ng Greatness of a State, than publick Pleasures and Divertis.e.m.e.nts--for they are, says he--the Schools of Vertue, where Vice is always either punish't, or disdain'd. They are secret Instructions to the People, in things that 'tis impossible to insinuate into them any other Way. 'Tis Example that prevails above Reason or DIVINE PRECEPTS. (Philosophy not understood by the Mult.i.tude;) 'tis Example alone that inspires Morality, and best establishes Vertue, I have my self known a Man, whom neither Conscience nor Religion cou'd perswade to Loyalty, who with beholding in our Theatre a Modern Politician set forth in all his Colours, was converted, renounc'd his opinion, and quitted the Party.

The Abbot of _Aubignac_ to show that Plays have been ever held most important to the very Political Part of Government, says, The Phylosophy of _Greece_, and the Majesty and Wisdom of the Romans, did equally concern their Great Men in making them Venerable, n.o.ble, and Magnificent: Venerable, by their Consecration to their G.o.ds: n.o.ble, by being govern'd by their chiefest Men; and their Magnificency was from the publick Treasury, and the liberal Contributions of their n.o.ble Men.

It being undeniable then, that Plays and publick Diversions were thought by the Greatest and Wisest of States, one of the most essential Parts of good Government, and in which so many great Persons were interested; suffer me to beg your Lords.h.i.+ps Patronage for this little Endeavour, and believe it not below the Grandure of your Birth and State, the Ill.u.s.trious Places you so justly hold in the Kingdom, nor your Ill.u.s.trious Relation to the greatest Monarch of the World, to afford it the Glory of your Protection; since it is the Product of a Heart and Pen, that always faithfully serv'd that Royal Cause, to which your Lords.h.i.+p is by many Tyes so firmly fixt: It approaches you with that absolute Veneration, that all the World is oblig'd to pay you; and has no other Design than to express my sense of those excellent Vertues, that make your Lords.h.i.+p so truly admir'd and lov'd. Amongst which we find those two so rare in a Great Man and a Statesman, those of Gracious Speech and easie Access, and I believe none were ever sent from your Presence dissatisfied. You have an Art to please even when you deny; and something in your Look and Voice has an Air so greatly good, it recompences even for Disappointment, and we never leave your Lords.h.i.+p but with Blessings. It is no less our Admiration, to behold with what Serenity and perfect Conduct, that great Part of the Nations Business is carry'd on, by one single Person; who having to do with so vast Numbers of Men of all Qualitys, Interests, and Humours, nevertheless all are well satisfi'd, and none complain of Oppression, but all is done with Gentleness and Silence, as if (like the first Creator) you cou'd finish all by a Word. You have, my Lord, a Judgment so piercing and solid, a Wisdom so quick and clear, and a Fort.i.tude so truly n.o.ble, that those Fatigues of State, that wou'd even sink a Spirit of less Magnitude, is by yours accomplish't without Toil, or any Appearance of that harsh and crabbed Austerity, that is usually put on by the buisy Great. You, my Lord, support the Globe, as if you did not feel its Weight; nor so much as seem to bend beneath it: Your Zeal for the Glorious Monarch you love and serve, makes all things a Pleasure that advance his Interest, which is so absolutely your Care. You are, my Lord, by your generous Candor, your unbyast Justice, your Sweetness, Affability, and Condescending Goodness (those never-failing Marks of Greatness) above that Envy which reigns in Courts, and is aim'd at the most elevated Fortunes and n.o.blest Favourites of Princes: And when they consider your Lords.h.i.+p, with all the Abilitys and Wisdom of a great Counsellor, your unblemisht Vertue, your unshaken Loyalty, your constant Industry for the Publick Good, how all things under your Part of Sway have been refin'd and purg'd from those Grossnesses, Frauds, Briberys, and Grievances, beneath which so many of his Majestys Subjects groan'd, when we see Merit establish't and prefer'd, and Vice discourag'd; it imposes Silence upon Malice it self, and compells 'em to bless his Majesty's Choice of such a Pillar of the State, such a Patron of Vertue.

Long may your Lords.h.i.+p live to remain in this most Honourable Station, that his Majesty may be serv'd with an entire Fidelity, and the Nation be render'd perfectly Happy. Since from such Heads and Hearts, the Monarch reaps his Glory, and the Kingdom receives its Safety and Tranquility. This is the unfeign'd Prayer of,