Chapter XVII: Epilogue: ,

Spoken by _Cloris_.

Ladies, the Prince was kind at last,
But all the Danger is not past;
I cannot happy be till you approve
My hasty condescension to his Love.
‘Twas want of Art, not Virtue, was my Crime;
And that’s, I vow, the Author’s Fault, not mine.
She might have made the Women pitiless,
But that had harder been to me than this:
She might have made our Lovers constant too,
A Work which Heaven it self can scarcely do;
But simple Nature never taught the way
To hide those Passions which she must obey.
E’en humble Cottages and Cells,
Where Innocence and Virtue dwells,
Than Courts no more secure can be
From Love and dangerous Flattery.
Love in rural Triumph reigns,
As much a God amongst the Swains,
As if the Sacrifices paid
Were wounded Hearts by Monarchs made:
And this might well excuse th’ Offence,
If it be so to love a Prince.
But, Ladies, ‘tis your Hands alone,
And not his Power, can raise me to a Throne;
Without that Aid I cannot reign,
But will return back to my Flocks again.

_Guilliam_ advances.

_Guil._ How, go from Court! nay, zay not zo.
Hear me but speak before you go:
Whoy zay the Leadies should refuse ye,
The Bleads I’m sure would better use ye--
So long as ye are kind and young,
I know they’ll clap ye right or wrong.

* * * * *
* * * *

NOTES: The Amorous Prince

NOTES ON THE TEXT.

+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 iii+

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’.

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 _’.was 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’.

NOTES: CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY.

+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).

+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.

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.’

* * * * *
* * * *

Cross-References from Critical Notes: _The Amorous Prince_

p. 121 _The Jig and Dance._ cf. note (on p. 43), Vol. III, p. 477: _A Jigg (The Town Fop)_.

_Town Fop_ note:

p. 43 _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.

* * * * *
* * * *

Errors and Irregularities: The Amorous Prince

In the Notes, alternation between .’ and ‘. at paragraph-end is as printed. The abbreviation “cf.” is always lower-case.

_Cur._ Never, I hope. [. missing]
Enter _Curtius_. / _Cur._ How! the Prince! [Enter _Curtuis_.]
_Cur._ I cry you mercy, Sir, pray what are you; [; unchanged]
[Aside to her. / [Ex. _Isab._
[Aside. / [Ex. _Page_ and _Guil._ with Musick.
[_brackets before “Exit” added for consistency in e-text_]
They set _Ism._ in a Chair [they]
_Cur._ _Guilliam_--the same [Gulliam]
‘Tis something cold, I’ll go take a Niperkin of Wine, [, as shown]
_Lau._ Forward, dear _Cloris_. [, for .]
[She shakes her Hand, as not understanding him.
[_text unchanged: error for Head?_]
But my Master must first speak with you alone, [, for .]

Notes on Text

p. 180 ... an auspicious kind, e.g. to begin [kind.]

* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *

THE WIDOW RANTER.

ARGUMENT.

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 ’.ictory! 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.

SOURCE.

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.)’

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

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.

To the much Honoured

MADAM WELLDON.

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,
G. J.

THE WIDOW RANTER:

Or, the History of Bacon in _Virginia_.