Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding
Page 345
SPATTER. And of singular prudence too; what signifies denying the fact after sentence, and dying with a lie in your mouth: no, no, rather, like a good pious criminal, rejoice, that in being put to shame you make some atonement for your sins; and I hope to do so in the following play; for it is, Mr. Sourwit, of a most instructive kind, and conveys to us a beautiful image of the instability of human greatness, and the uncertainty of friends. You see here the author of a mighty farce at the very top and pinnacle of poetical or rather farcical greatness, followed, flattered, and adored by a crowd of dependants: on a sudden, fortune changing the scene, and his farce being damned, you see him become the scorn of his admirers, and deserted and abandoned by all those who courted his favour, and appeared the foremost to uphold and protect him. Draw the scene, and discover Mr. Pillage. [Scene draws.
SOURWIT . Who is he?
SPATTER. The author of the farce.
SOURWIT . A very odd name for an author.
SPATTER. Perhaps you will not remain long in that opinion: but silence.
PILLAGE. Who’d wish to be the author of a farce
Surrounded daily by a crowd of actors,
Gaping for parts, and never to be satisfied?
Yet, say the wise, in loftier seats of life,
Solicitation is the chief reward;
And Wolsey’s self, that mighty minister,
In the full height and zenith of his power,
Amid a crowd of sycophants and slaves,
Was but perhaps the author of a farce,
Perhaps a damned one too. ‘Tis all a cheat,
Some men play little farces, and some great. [Exit.
SPATTER. NOW for the levée.
SOURWIT . Whose levée, sir?
SPATTER. My poet’s, sir.
SOURWIT . ‘Sdeath, sir, did ever any mortal hear of a poet’s levée?
SPATTER. Sir, my poet is a very great man.
SOURWIT . And pray, sir, of what sort of people do yon compose your great man’s levée?
SPATTER. Of his dependants, sir: pray, of what sort of people are all great men’s levées composed? I have been forced, sir, to do a small violence to history, and make my great man not only a poet, but a master of a play-house; and so, sir, his levée is composed of actors soliciting for parts, printers for copies, box-keepers, scene-men, fiddlers, and candle-snuffers. And now, Mr. Sourwit, do you think I could have composed his levée of properer company? Come, enter, enter gentlemen.
[The Levée enters, and range themselves to a ridiculous tune.
Enter PILLAGE.
1 ACTOR. Sir, you have promised me a part a long time: if you had not intended to employ me, it would have been kind in you to have let me know it, that I might have turned myself to some trade or other.
PILLAGE. Sir, one farce cannot find parts for all; but you shall be provided for in time. You must have patience; I intend to exhibit several farces, depend on me you shall have a part.
1 ACTOR. I humbly thank you.
2 ACTOR. Sir, I was to have a principal part long ago.
PILLAGE. Speak to me before the parts are cast, and I will remember you in my next farce; I shall exhibit several. I am very glad to see you; you remember my farce is to [To 3 Actor] come on to-day, and will lend me your hands.
3 ACTOR. Depend on me.
PILLAGE. And you, sir, I hope, will clap heartily.
4 ACTOR. De’el o’ my sal, but I will.
PILLAGE. Be sure and get into the house as soon as the doors are open.
4 ACTOR. Fear me not; I will but get a bet of denner, and I will be the first in the huse — but —
PILLAGE. What, sir?
4 ACTOR. I want money to buy a pair of gloves.
PILLAGE. I will order it you out of the office.
4 ACTOR. De’el o’ my sal, but I will clap every gud thing, till I bring the huse down.
PILLAGE. That won’t do: the town of its own accord will applaud what they like; you must stand by me when they dislike — I don’t desire any of you to clap unless when you hear a hiss — let that be your cue for clapping.
ALL. We’ll observe.
5 ACTOR. But, sir, I have not money enough to get into the house.
PILLAGE. I cannot disburse it.
5 ACTOR. But I hope you will remember your promises, sir.
PILLAGE. Some other time; you see I am busy — What are your commands, sir?
1 PRINTER. I am a printer, and desire to print your play.
2 PRINTER. Sir, I’ll give you the most money.
PILLAGE [To 2 Printer, whispering]. You shall have it — Oh! I am heartily glad to pee you. [Takes him aside.] You know my farce comes on to-day, and I have many enemies; I hope you will stand by me.
POET. Depend on me, never fear your enemies, I’ll warrant we make more noise than they.
PILLAGE. Thou art a very honest fellow. [Shaking him by the hand.
POET. I am always proud to serve you.
PILLAGE. I wish you would let me serve you, I wish you would turn actor, and accept of a part in some of my farces.
POET. No, I thank you, I don’t intend to come upon the stage myself; but I desire you would let me recommend this handsome, genteel, young fellow to act the part of a fine gentleman.
PILLAGE. Depend on it, he shall do the very first I bring on the stage: I dare swear, sir, his abilities are such that the town will be obliged to us both for producing them.
POET. I hope so, but I must take my leave of you, for I am to meet a strong party that I have engaged for your service.
PILLAGE. DO, do, be sure, do clap heartily.
POET. Fear not, I warrant we bring you off triumphant.
[Exeunt.
PILLAGE. Then I defy the town: if by my friends,
Against their liking I support my farce,
And fill my loaded pockets with their pence,
Let after-ages damn me if they please.
SOURWIT . Well, sir, and pray what do you principally intend by this levée scene?
SPATTER. Sir, I intend first to warn all future authors from depending solely on a party to support them against the judgment of the town. Secondly, showing that even the author of a farce may have his attendants and dependants; I hope greater persons may learn to despise them, which may be a more useful moral than you may apprehend; for perhaps the mean ambition of being worshipped, flattered, and attended by such fellows as these, may have led men into the worst of schemes, from which they could promise themselves little more.
Enter HONESTUS.
HONESTUS. You sent me word that you desired to see me.
PILLAGE. I did, Honestus, for my farce appears
This day upon the stage — and I intreat
Your presence in the pit to help applaud it.
HONESTUS. Faith, sir, my voice shall never be corrupt.
If I approve your farce, I will applaud it;
If not, I’ll hiss it, though I hiss alone.
PILLAGE. Now, by my soul, I hope to see the time
When none shall dare to hiss within the house.
HONESTUS. I rather hope to see the time, when none
Shall come prepared to censure or applaud,
But merit always bear away the prize.
If you have merit, take your merit’s due;
If not, why should a bungler in his art
Keep off some better genius from the stage?
I tell you, sir, the farce you act to-night
I don’t approve, nor will the house, unless
Your friends by partiality prevail.
Besides, you are most impolitic to affront
The army in the beginning of your piece;
Your satire is unjust, I know no ghost
Of army-beaus unless of your own making.
SOURWIT . What do you mean by that?
SPATTER. Sir, in the farce of Eurydice, a ghost of an army-beau was brought on the stage.
SOURWIT . O! ay, I remember him.
PILLAGE. I fear them not, I ha
ve so many friends,
That the majority will sure be mine.
HONESTUS. Curse on this way of carrying things by friends,
This bar to merit; by such unjust means,
A play’s success, or ill success is known,
And fixed before it has been tried i’ th’ house;
Yet grant it should succeed, grant that by chance,
Or by the whim and madness of the town,
A farce without contrivance, without sense,
Should run to the astonishment of mankind;
Think how you will be read in after-times,
When friends are not, and the impartial judge
Shall with the meanest scribbler rank your name;
Who would not rather wish a Butler’s fame,
Distressed and poor in every thing but merit,
Than be the blundering lauréat to a court?
PILLAGE. Not! On me, ye gods, bestow the pence,
And give your fame to any fools you please.
HONESTUS. Your love of pence sufficiently you show,
By raising still your prices on the town.
PILLAGE. The town for their own sakes those prices pay,
Which the additional expense demands.
HONESTUS. Then give us a good tragedy for our money,
And let not Harlequin still pick our pockets,
With his low paltry tricks and juggling cheats,
Which any school-boy, was he on the stage,
Could do as well as he — In former times,
When better actors acted better plays,
The town paid less.
PILLAGE. We have more actors now.
HONESTUS. Ay, many more, I’m certain, than you need.
Make your additional expense apparent,
Let it appear quite necessary too,
And then, perhaps, they’ll grumble not to pay.
PILLAGE. What is a manager whom the public rule?
HONESTUS. The servant of the public, and no more:
For though indeed you see the actors paid,
Yet from the people’s pockets come the pence;
They therefore should decide what they will pay for.
PILLAGE. If you assist me on this trial day,
You may assure yourself a dedication.
HONESTUS. No bribe — I go impartial to your cause,
Like a just critic, to give worth applause,
But damn you if you write against our laws. [Exit.
PILLAGE. I wish I could have gained one honest man
Sure to my side — But since the attempt is vain,
Numbers must serve for worth; the vessel sails
With equal rapid fury and success,
Borne by the foulest tide, as clearest stream.
Enter VALET DE CHAMBRE.
VALET. Your honour’s muse
Is come to wait upon you.
PILLAGE. Show her in.
I guess she comes to chide me for neglect,
Since twice two days have passed since I invoked her.
Enter MUSE.
SOURWIT . The devil there have! This is a mighty pretty way the gentleman has found out to insinuate his acquaintance with the muses; though, like other ladies, I believe they are often wronged by fellows who brag of favours they never received.
PILLAGE. Why wears my gentle muse so stem a brow?
Why awful thus affects she to appear,
Where she delighted to be so serene?
MUSE. And dost thou ask, thou traitor, dost thou ask?
Art thou not conscious of the wrongs I bear,
Neglected, slighted for a fresher muse?
I, whose fond heart too easily did yield
My virgin joys and honour to thy arms,
And bore thee Pasquin.
PILLAGE. Where will this fury end?
MUSE. Ask thy base heart, whose is Eurydice?
PILLAGE. By all that’s great, begotten on no muse,
The trifling offspring of an idle hour,
When you were absent, far below your care.
MDSE. Can I believe you had her by no muse?
PILLAGE. Ay, by your love, and more, by mine, you shall;
My raptured fancy shall again enjoy thee;
Cure all thy jealousies, and ease thy fears.
MDSE. Wilt thou? make ready then thy pen and ink.
PILLAGE. Oh, they are ever ready; when they fail,
Mayst thou forsake me, mayst thou then inspire
The blundering brain of scribblers, who for hire
Would write away their country’s liberties.
MDSE. O name not wretches so below the muse:
No, my dear Pillage, sooner will I whet
The Ordinary of Newgate’s leaden quill;
Sooner will I indite the annual verse,
Which city bellmen, or court lauréats sing;
Sooner with thee in humble garret dwell,
And thou, or else thy muse disclaims thy pen,
Wouldst sooner starve, ay, even in prison starve,
Than vindicate oppression for thy bread,
Or write down liberty to gain thy own.
SOURWIT . Hey-day! methinks this merry tragedy is growing sublime.
SPATTER. That last is, indeed, a little out of my present style; it dropped from me before I was aware; talking of liberty made me serious in spite of my teeth, for between you and me, Mr. Sourwit, I think that affair is past a jest: but I ask your pardon, you shall have no more on’t.
PILLAGE. Come to my arms, inspire me with sweet thoughts.
And now thy inspiration fires my brain:
Not more I felt thy power, nor fiercer burnt
My vigorous fancy, when thy blushing charms
First yielded trembling, and inspired my pen
To write nine scenes with spirit in one day.
MUSE. That was a day indeed!
SOURWIT . Ay, faith! so it was.
MUSE. And does my Pillage write with joy as then?
Would not a fresher subject charm his pen?
PILLAGE. Let the dull sated appetite require
Variety to whet its blunted edge;
The subject which has once delighted me,
Shall still delight, shall ever be my choice;
Come to my arms, thou masterpiece of nature.
The fairest rose, first opening to the sun,
Bears not thy beauty, nor sends forth thy sweets;
For that once gathered loses all its pride,
Fades to the sight, and sickens to the smell;
Thou, gathered, charmest every sense the more,
Canst flourish, and be gathered o’er and o’er. [Exeunt.
SPATTER. There, they are gone to write a scene, and the town may expect the fruit of it.
SOURWIT . Yes, I think the town may expect an offspring indeed.
SPATTER. But now my catastrophe is approaching: change the scene to the outside of the play-house, and enter two gentlemen.
Enter two Gentlemen.
1 GENTLEMAN. Came you from the house?
2 GENTLEMAN. I did.
1 GENTLEMAN. How wears the farce?
2 GENTLEMAN. The pit is crammed, I could not get admission,
But at the door I heard a mighty noise,
It seemed of approbation, and of laughter.
1 GENTLEMAN. If laughter, it was surely approbation,
For I’ve long studied the dramatic art,
Bead many volumes, seen a thousand plays,
Whence I’ve at length found out this certain truth,
That laughs applaud a farce, and tears a tragedy.
SOURWIT . A very great discovery, indeed, and very pompously introduced!
SPATTER. You sneer, Mr. Sourwit: but I have seen discoveries in life of the same nature, introduced with much greater pomp.
SOURWIT . But don’t you intend to lay the scene in the theatre, and let us see the farce fairly damned before us?
SPATTER. No, sir, it is a thing of too horri
ble a nature; for which reason I shall follow Horace’s rule, and only introduce a description of it. Come, enter, Description; I assure you I have thrown myself out greatly in this next scene.
Enter third GENTLEMAN.
3 GENTLEMAN. Oh, friends, all’s lost; Eurydice is damned.
2 GENTLEMAN. Ha! damned! A few short moments past I came
From the pit-door, and heard a loud applause.
3 GENTLEMAN. ‘Tis true, at first the pit seemed greatly pleased,
And loud applauses through the benches rung,
But as the plot began to open more,
(A shallow plot) the claps less frequent grew,
Till by degrees a gentle hiss arose;
This by a catcall from the gallery
Was quickly seconded: then followed claps,
And ‘twixt long claps and hisses did succeed
A stem contention. Victory hung dubious.
So hangs the conscience, doubtful to determine,
When honesty pleads here and there a bribe;
At length, from some ill-fated actor’s mouth,