Kitabı oku: «The Works of Henry Fielding, vol. 12», sayfa 10
ACT IV
SCENE I. —Enter FUSTIAN and SNEERWELL
Fust. These little things, Mr Sneerwell, will sometimes happen. Indeed a poet undergoes a great deal before he comes to his third night; first with the muses, who are humorous ladies, and must be attended; for if they take it into their head at any time to go abroad and leave you, you will pump your brain in vain: then, sir, with the master of a playhouse to get it acted, whom you generally follow a quarter of a year before you know whether he will receive it or no; and then, perhaps, he tells you it won't do, and returns it to you again, reserving the subject, and perhaps the name, which he brings out in his next pantomime; but if he should receive the play, then you must attend again to get it writ out into parts and rehearsed. Well, sir, at last, the rehearsals begin; then, sir, begins another scene of trouble with the actors, some of whom don't like their parts, and all are continually plaguing you with alterations: at length, after having waded through all these difficulties, his play appears on the stage, where one man hisses out of resentment to the author, a second out of dislike to the house, a third out of dislike to the actor, a fourth out of dislike to the play, a fifth for the joke sake, a sixth to keep all the rest in company. Enemies abuse him, friends give him up, the play is damned, and the author goes to the devil: so ends the farce.
Sneer. The tragedy, rather, I think, Mr Fustian. But what's become of Trapwit?
Fust. Gone off, I suppose; I knew he would not stay; he is so taken up with his own performances, that he has no time to attend any others. But come, Prompter, will the tragedy never begin?
Enter Prompter.
Promp. Yes, sir, they are all ready; come, draw up the curtain.
[FIREBRAND, LAW, and PHYSICK discovered.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, who are these personages?
Fust. That in the middle, sir, is Firebrand, priest of the Sun; he on the right represents Law, and he on the left Physick.
Fireb. Avert these omens, ye auspicious stars!
Fust. What omens? where the devil is the thunder and lightning!
Promp. Why don't you let go the thunder there, and flash your rosin? [Thunder and lightning.
Fust. Now, sir, begin if you please. I desire, sir, you will get a larger thunderbowl and two pennyworth more of lightning against the representation. Now, sir, if you please.
Fireb. Avert these omens, ye auspicious stars!
O Law! O Physick! As last, even late,
I offer'd sacred incense in the temple,
The temple shook – strange prodigies appeared;
A cat in boots did dance a rigadoon,
While a huge dog play'd on the violin;
And whilst I trembling at the altar stood,
Voices were heard i' th' air, and seem'd to say,
"Awake, my drowsy sons, and sleep no more."
They must mean something! —
Law. Certainly they must.
We have our omens too! The other day
A mighty deluge swam into our hall,
As if it meant to wash away the law:
Lawyers were forced to ride on porters' shoulders:
One, O prodigious omen! tumbled down,
And he and all his briefs were sous'd together.
Now, if I durst my sentiments declare,
I think it is not hard to guess the meaning.
Fireb. Speak boldly; by the powers I serve, I swear
You speak in safety, even though you speak
Against the gods, provided that you speak
Not against priests.
Law. What then can the powers
Mean by these omens, but to rouse us up
From the lethargick sway of Common Sense?
And well they urge, for while that drowsy queen
Maintains her empire, what becomes of us?
Phys. My lord of Law, you speak my sentiments;
For though I wear the mask of loyalty,
And outward shew a reverence to the queen,
Yet in my heart I hate her: yes, by heaven,
She stops my proud ambition! keeps me down
When I would soar upon an eagle's wing,
And thence look down, and dose the world below.
Law. Thou know'st, my lord of Physick, I had long
Been privileged by custom immemorial,
In tongues unknown, or rather none at all,
My edicts to deliver through the land;
When this proud queen, this Common Sense abridged
My power, and made me understood by all.
Phys. My lord, there goes a rumour through the court
That you descended from a family
Related to the queen; Reason is said
T' have been the mighty founder of your house.
Law. Perhaps so; but we have raised ourselves so high, And shook this founder from us off so far, We hardly deign to own from whence we came.
Fireb. My lords of Law and Physick, I have heard
With perfect approbation all you've said:
And since I know you men of noble spirit,
And fit to undertake a glorious cause,
I will divulge myself: know, through this mask,
Which to impose on vulgar minds I wear,
I am an enemy to Common Sense;
But this not for Ambition's earthly cause,
But to enlarge the worship of the Sun;
To give his priests a just degree of power,
And more than half the profits of the land.
Oh! my good lord of Law, would'st thou assist,
In spite of Common Sense it may be done.
Law. Propose the method.
Fireb. Here, survey this list.
In it you'll find a certain set of names,
Whom well I know sure friends to Common Sense;
These it must be our care to represent
The greatest enemies to the gods and her.
But hush! the queen approaches.
Enter Queen COMMON SENSE, attended by two Maids of Honour.
Fust. What! but two maids of honour?
Promp. Sir, a Jew carried off the other, but I shall be able to pick up some more against the play is acted.
Q. C. S. My lord of Law, I sent for you this morning;
I have a strange petition given to me.
Two men, it seems, have lately been at law
For an estate, which both of them have lost,
And their attorneys now divide between them.
Law. Madam, these things will happen in the law.
Q. C. S. Will they, my lord? then better we had none:
But I have also heard a sweet bird sing,
That men unable to discharge their debts
At a short warning, being sued for them,
Have, with both power and will their debts to pay,
Lain all their lives in prison for their costs.
Law. That may, perhaps, be some poor person's case, Too mean to entertain your royal ear.
Q. C. S. My lord, while I am queen I shall not think
One man too mean or poor to be redress'd.
Moreover, lord, I am informed your laws
Are grown so large, and daily yet increase,
That the great age of old Methusalem
Would scarce suffice to read your statutes out.
Fireb. Madam, a more important cause demands
Your royal care; strange omens have appear'd;
Sights have been seen, and voices have been heard,
The gods are angry, and must be appeas'd;
Nor do I know to that a readier way
Than by beginning to appease their priests,
Who groan for power, and cry out after honour.
Q. C. S. The gods, indeed, have reason for their anger,
And sacrifices shall be offer'd to them;
But would you make 'em welcome, priest, be meek,
Be charitable, kind, nor dare affront
The Sun you worship, while yourselves prevent
That happiness to men you ask of him.
Enter an Officer.
Q. C. S. What means this hasty message in your looks?
Offic. Forgive me, madam, if my tongue declares
News for your sake, which most my heart abhors;
Queen Ignorance is landed in your realm,
With a vast power from Italy and France
Of singers, fidlers, tumblers, and rope-dancers.
Q. C. S. Order our army instantly to get
Themselves in readiness; our self will head 'em.
My lords, you are concerned as well as we
T'oppose this foreign force, and we expect
You join us with your utmost levies straight.
Go, priest, and drive all frightful omens hence;
To fright the vulgar they are your pretence,
But sure the gods will side with Common Sense.
[Exit cum suis.
Fireb. They know their interest better; or at least
Their priests do for 'em, and themselves. Oh! lords,
This queen of Ignorance, whom you have heard
Just now described in such a horrid form,
Is the most gentle and most pious queen;
So fearful of the gods, that she believes
Whate'er their priests affirm. And by the Sun,
Faith is no faith if it falls short of that.
I'd be infallible; and that, I know,
Will ne'er be granted me by Common Sense:
Wherefore I do disclaim her, and will join
The cause of Ignorance. And now, my lords,
Each to his post. The rostrum I ascend;
My lord of Law, you to your courts repair;
And you, my good lord Physick, to the queen;
Handle her pulse, potion and pill her well.
Phys. Oh! my good lord, had I her royal ear,
Would she but take the counsel I would give,
You'd need no foreign power to overthrow her:
Yes, by the gods! I would with one small pill
Unhinge her soul, and tear it from her body;
But to my art and me a deadly foe,
She has averr'd, ay, in the publick court,
That Water Gruel is the best physician;
For which, when she's forgiven by the college,
Or when we own the sway of Common Sense,
May we be forced to take our own prescriptions!
Fireb. My lord of Physick, I applaud thy spirit.
Yes, by the Sun, my heart laughs loud within me,
To see how easily the world's deceived;
To see this Common Sense thus tumbled down
By men whom all the cheated nations own
To be the strongest pillars of her throne.
[Exeunt FIREB., LAW, and PHYS.
Fust. Thus ends the first act, sir.
Sneer. This tragedy of yours, Mr Fustian, I observe to be emblematical; do you think it will be understood by the audience?
Fust. Sir, I cannot answer for the audience; though I think the panegyrick intended by it is very plain and very seasonable.
Sneer. What panegyrick?
Fust. On our clergy, sir, at least the best of them, to shew the difference between a heathen and a Christian priest. And, as I have touched only on generals, I hope I shall not be thought to bring anything improper on the stage, which I would carefully avoid.
Sneer. But is not your satire on law and physick somewhat too general?
Fust. What is said here cannot hurt either an honest lawyer or a good physician; and such may be, nay, I know such are: if the opposites to these are the most general I cannot help that; as for the professors themselves, I have no great reason to be their friend, for they once joined in a particular conspiracy against me.
Sneer. Ah, how so?
Fust. Why, an apothecary brought me in a long bill, and a lawyer made me pay it.
Sneer. Ha, ha, ha! a conspiracy, indeed!
Fust. Now, sir, for my second act; my tragedy consists but of three.
Sneer. I thought that had been immethodical in tragedy.
Fust. That may be; but I spun it out as long as I could keep Common Sense alive; ay, or even her ghost. Come, begin the second act.
The scene draws and discovers QUEEN COMMON SENSE asleep.
Sneer. Pray, sir, who's that upon the couch there?
Fust. I thought you had known her better, sir: that's Common Sense asleep.
Sneer. I should rather have expected her at the head of her army.
Fust. Very likely, but you do not understand the practical rules of writing as well as I do; the first and greatest of which is protraction, or the art of spinning, without which the matter of a play would lose the chief property of all other matter, namely, extension; and no play, sir, could possibly last longer than half an hour. I perceive, Mr Sneerwell, you are one of those who would have no character brought on but what is necessary to the business of the play. – Nor I neither – But the business of the play, as I take it, is to divert, and therefore every character that diverts is necessary to the business of the play.
Sneer. But how will the audience be brought to conceive any probable reason for this sleep?
Fust. Why, sir, she has been meditating on the present general peace of Europe, till by too intense an application, being not able thoroughly to comprehend it, she was overpowered and fell fast asleep. Come, ring up the first ghost. [Ghost arises.] You know that ghost?
Sneer. Upon my word, sir, I can't recollect any acquaintance with him.
Fust. I am surprized at that, for you must have seen him often: that's the ghost of Tragedy, sir; he has walked all the stages of London several years; but why are not you floured? – What the devil is become of the barber?
Ghost. Sir, he's gone to Drury-lane playhouse to shave the Sultan in the new entertainment.
Fust. Come, Mr Ghost, pray begin.
Ghost. From the dark regions of the realms below
The ghost of Tragedy has ridden post;
To tell thee, Common Sense, a thousand things,
Which do import thee nearly to attend: [Cock crows.
But, ha! the cursed cock has warn'd me hence;
I did set out too late, and therefore must
Leave all my business to some other time.
[Ghost descends.
Sneer. I presume this is a character necessary to divert; for I can see no great business he has fulfilled.
Fust. Where's the second ghost?
Sneer. I thought the cock had crowed.
Fust. Yes, but the second ghost need not be supposed to have heard it. Pray, Mr Prompter, observe, the moment the first ghost descends the second is to rise: they are like the twin stars in that.
[2 Ghost rises.
2 Ghost. Awake, great Common Sense, and sleep no more.
Look to thyself; for then, when I was slain,
Thyself was struck at; think not to survive
My murder long; for while thou art on earth,
The convocation will not meet again.
The lawyers cannot rob men of their rights;
Physicians cannot dose away their souls;
A courtier's promise will not be believed;
Nor broken citizens again be trusted.
A thousand newspapers cannot subsist
In which there is not any news at all.
Playhouses cannot flourish, while they dare
To nonsense give an entertainment's name.
Shakspeare, and Jonson, Dryden, Lee, and Rowe,
Thou wilt not bear to yield to Sadler's Wells;
Thou wilt not suffer men of wit to starve,
And fools, for only being fools, to thrive.
Thou wilt not suffer eunuchs to be hired
At a vast price, to be impertinent.
[3 Ghost rises.
3 Ghost. Dear ghost, the cock has crow'd; you cannot get Under the ground a mile before 'tis day.
2 Ghost. Your humble servant then, I cannot stay.
[Ghost descends.
Fust. Thunder and lightning! thunder and lightning! Pray don't forget this when it is acted.
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, why must a ghost always rise in a storm of thunder and lightning? for I have read much of that doctrine and don't find any mention of such ornaments.
Fust. That may be, but they are very necessary: they are indeed properly the paraphernalia of a ghost.
Sneer. But, pray, whose ghost was that?
Fust. Whose should it be but Comedy's? I thought, when you had been told the other was Tragedy, you would have wanted no intimation who this was. Come, Common Sense, you are to awake and rub your eyes.
Q. C. S. [Waking.] Who's there? —
Enter Maid of Honour.
Did you not hear or see some wond'rous thing?
Maid. No, may it please your majesty, I did not.
Q. C. S. I was a-dream'd I overheard a ghost.
Maid. In the next room I closely did attend, And had a ghost been here I must have heard him.
Enter FIREBRAND.
Q. C. S. Priest of the Sun, you come most opportune,
For here has been a dreadful apparition:
As I lay sleeping on my couch, methought
I saw a ghost.
Sneer. Then I suppose she sleeps with her eyes open.
Fust. Why, you would not have Common Sense see a ghost, unless in her sleep, I hope.
Fireb. And if such toleration
Be suffer'd as at present you maintain,
Shortly your court will be a court of ghosts.
Make a huge fire and burn all unbelievers:
Ghosts will be hang'd ere venture near a fire.
Q. C. S. Men cannot force belief upon themselves, And shall I then by torture force it on them?
Fireb. The Sun will have it so.
Q. C. S. How do I know that?
Fireb. Why I, his priest infallible, have told you.
Q. C. S. How do I know you are infallible?
Fireb. Ha! do you doubt it! nay, if you doubt that,
I will prove nothing. But my zeal inspires me,
And I will tell you, madam, you yourself
Are a most deadly enemy to the Sun;
And all his priests have greatest cause to wish
You had been never born.
Q. C. S. Ha! sayest thou, priest?
Then know, I honour and adore the Sun:
And when I see his light, and feel his warmth,
I glow with flaming gratitude towards him;
But know, I never will adore a priest,
Who wears pride's face beneath religion's mask,
And makes a pick-lock of his piety
To steal away the liberty of mankind:
But while I live, I'll never give thee power.
Fireb. Madam, our power is not derived from you,
Nor any one: 'twas sent us in a box
From the great Sun himself, and carriage paid:
Phaeton brought it when he overturn'd
The chariot of the Sun into the sea.
Q. C. S. Shew me the instrument and let me read it.
Fireb. Madam, you cannot read it, for, being thrown Into the sea, the water has so damaged it That none but priests could ever read it since.
Q. C. S. And do you think I can believe this tale?
Fireb. I order you to believe it, and you must.
Q. C. S. Proud and imperious man, I can't believe it.
Religion, law, and physick, were design'd
By heaven the greatest blessings on mankind;
But priests, and lawyers, and physicians, made
These general goods to each a private trade;
With each they rob, with each they fill their purses,
And turn our benefits into our curses. [Exit.
Fust. Law and Physick. Where's Law?
Enter PHYSIC.
Phys. Sir, Law, going without the playhouse passage, was taken up by a lord chief-justice's warrant.
Fireb. Then we must go on without him.
Fust. No, no, stay a moment; I must get somebody else to rehearse the part. Pox take all warrants for me! if I had known this before I would have satirized the law ten times more than I have.
ACT V
SCENE I. —Enter FUSTIAN, SNEERWELL, Prompter, FIREBRAND, LAW, PHYSICK
Fust. I am glad you have made your escape; but I hope you will make the matter up before the day of action: come, Mr Firebrand, now if you please go on; the moment Common Sense goes off the stage Law and Physick enter.
Fireb. Oh! my good lords of Physick and of Law,
Had you been sooner here you would have heard
The haughty queen of Common Sense throw out
Abuses on us all.
Law. I am not now
To learn the hatred which she bears to me.
No more of that – for now the warlike queen
Of Ignorance, attended with a train
Of foreigners, all foes to Common Sense,
Arrives at Covent-garden; and we ought
To join her instantly with all our force.
At Temple-bar some regiments parade;
The colonels, Clifford, Thavies, and Furnival,
Through Holborn lead their powers to Drury-lane,
Attorneys all compleatly armed in brass:
These, bailiffs and their followers will join,
With justices, and constables, and watchmen.
Phys. In Warwick-lane my powers expect me now:
A hundred chariots with a chief in each,
Well-famed for slaughter, in his hand he bears
A feather'd dart that seldom errs in flight.
Next march a band of choice apothecaries,
Each arm'd with deadly pill; a regiment
Of surgeons terrible maintain the rear.
All ready first to kill, and then dissect.
Fireb. My lords, you merit greatly of the queen,
And Ignorance shall well repay your deeds;
For I foretel that by her influence
Men shall be brought (what scarce can be believed)
To bribe you with large fees to their undoing.
Success attend your glorious enterprize;
I'll go and beg it earnest of the Sun:
I, by my office, am from fight debarr'd,
But I'll be with you ere the booty's shared.
[Exeunt FIREBRAND, LAW, and PHYSICK
Fust. Now, Mr Sneerwell, we shall begin my third and last act; and I believe I may defy all the poets who have ever writ, or ever will write, to produce its equal: it is, sir, so crammed with drums and trumpets, thunder and lightning, battles and ghosts, that I believe the audience will want no entertainment after it: it is as full of shew as Merlin's cave itself; and for wit – no rope-dancing or tumbling can come near it. Come, begin.
[A ridiculous march is played.
Enter Queen IGNORANCE, attended with Singers, Fidlers, Rope-dancers, Tumblers, &c.
Q. Ign. Here fix our standard; what is this place called?
1_Att_. Great madam, Covent-garden is its name.
Q. Ign. Ha! then methinks we have ventured too far,
Too near those theatres where Common Sense
Maintains her garrisons of mighty force;
Who, should they sally on us ere we're joined
By Law and Physick, may offend us much.
[Drum beats within.
But ha! what means this drum?
1_Att_. It beats a parley, not a point of war
Enter HARLEQUIN.
Harl. To you, great queen of Ignorance, I come
Embassador from the two theatres;
Who both congratulate you on your arrival;
And to convince you with what hearty meaning
They sue for your alliance, they have sent
Their choicest treasure here as hostages,
To be detain'd till you are well convinced
They're not less foes to Common Sense than you.
Q. Ign. Where are the hostages?
Harl. Madam, I have brought
A catalogue, and all therein shall be
Deliver'd to your order; but consider,
Oh mighty queen! they offer you their all;
And gladly for the least of these would give
Their poets and their actors in exchange.
Q. Ign. Read the catalogue.
Harl. [Reads.] "A tall man, and a tall woman, hired at a vast price. A strong man exceeding dear. Two dogs that walk on their hind legs only, and personate human creatures so well, they might be mistaken for them. A human creature that personates a dog so well that he might almost be taken for one. Two human cats. A most curious set of puppies. A pair of pigeons. A set of rope-dancers and tumblers from Sadler's-wells."
Q. Ign. Enough, enough; and is it possible
That they can hold alliance with my friends
Of Sadler's-wells? then are they foes indeed
To Common Sense, and I'm indebted to 'em.
Take back their hostages, for they may need 'em;
And take this play, and bid 'em forthwith act it;
There is not in it either head or tail.
Harl. Madam, they will most gratefully receive it. The character you give would recommend it, Though it had come from a less powerful hand.
Q. Ign. The Modish Couple is its name; myself Stood gossip to it, and I will support This play against the town.
I Att. Madam, the queen Of Common Sense advances with her powers.
Q. Ign. Draw up my men, I'll meet her as I ought; This day shall end the long dispute between us.
Enter Queen COMMON SENSE with a Drummer.
Fust. Hey-day! where's Common Sense's army?
Promp. Sir, I have sent all over the town, and could not get one soldier for her, except that poor drummer, who was lately turned out of an Irish regiment.
Drum. Upon my shoul but I have been a drummer these twenty years, master, and have seen no wars yet; and I was willing to learn a little of my trade before I died.
Fust. Hush, sirrah! don't you be witty; that is not in your part.
Drum. I don't know what is in my part, sir; but T desire to have something in it; for I have been tired of doing nothing a great while.
Fust. Silence!
Q. C. S. What is the reason, madam, that you bring These hostile arms into my peaceful realm?
_Q. Ign. To ease your subjects from that dire oppression They groan beneath, which longer to support Unable, they invited my redress.
Q. C. S. And can my subjects then complain of wrong? Base and ungrateful! what is their complaint?
Q. Ign. They say you do impose a tax of thought Upon their minds, which they're too weak to bear.
Q. C. S. Wouldst thou from thinking then absolve mankind?
Q. Ign. I would, for thinking only makes men wretched;
And happiness is still the lot of fools.
Why should a wise man wish to think, when thought
Still hurts his pride; in spite of all his art,
Malicious fortune, by a lucky train
Of accidents, shall still defeat his schemes,
And set the greatest blunderer above him.
Q. C. S. Urgest thou that against me, which thyself
Has been the wicked cause of? Which thy power,
Thy artifice, thy favourites have done?
Could Common Sense bear universal sway,
No fool could ever possibly be great.
Q. Ign. What is this folly, which you try to paint
In colours so detestable and black?
Is't not the general gift of fate to men?
And though some few may boast superior sense,
Are they not call'd odd fellows by the rest?
In any science, if this sense peep forth,
Shew men the truth, and strive to turn their steps
From ways wherein their gross forefathers err'd,
Is not the general cry against them straight?
Sneer. This Ignorance, Mr Fustian, seems to know a great deal.
Fust. Yes, sir, she knows what she has seen so often; but you find she mistakes the cause, and Common Sense can never beat it into her.
Q. Ign. Sense is the parent still of fear; the fox,
Wise beast, who knows the treachery of men,
Flies their society, and skulks in woods,
While the poor goose, in happiness and ease,
Fearless grows fat within its narrow coop,
And thinks the hand that feeds it is its friend;
Then yield thee, Common Sense, nor rashly dare
Try a vain combat with superior force.
Q. C. S. Know, queen, I never will give up the cause
Of all these followers: when at the head
Of all these heroes I resign my right,
May my curst name be blotted from the earth!
Sneer. Methinks, Common Sense, though, ought to give it up, when she has no more to defend it.
Fust. It does indeed look a little odd at present; but I'll get her an army strong enough against its acted. Come, go on.
Q. Ign. Then thus I hurl defiance at thy head. Draw all your swords.
Q. C. S. And, gentlemen, draw yours.
Q. Ign. Fall on; have at thy heart.
[A fight
Q. C. S. And have at thine.
Fust. Oh, fie upon't, fie upon't! I never saw a worse battle in all my life upon any stage. Pray, gentlemen, come some of you over to the other side.
Sneer. These are Swiss soldiers, I perceive, Mr Fustian; they care not which side they fight of.
Fust. Now, begin again, if you please, and fight away; pray fight as if you were in earnest, gentlemen. [They fight.] Oons, Mr Prompter! I fancy you hired these soldiers out of the trained bands – they are afraid to fight even in jest. [They fight again.] There, there – pretty well. I think, Mr Sneerwell, we have made a shift to make out a good sort of a battle at last.
Sneer. Indeed I cannot say I ever saw a better.
Fust. You don't seem, Mr Sneerwell, to relish this battle greatly.
Sneer. I cannot profess myself the greatest admirer of this part of tragedy; and I own my imagination can better conceive the idea of a battle from a skilful relation of it than from such a representation; for my mind is not able to enlarge the stage into a vast plain, nor multiply half a score into several thousands.
Fust. Oh; your humble servant! but if we write to please you and half a dozen others, who will pay the charges of the house? Sir, if the audience will be contented with a battle or two, instead of all the raree-fine shows exhibited to them in what they call entertainments —
Sneer. Pray, Mr Fustian, how came they to give the name of entertainments to their pantomimical farces?
Fust. Faith, sir, out of their peculiar modesty; intimating that after the audience had been tired with the dull works of Shakspeare, Jonson, Vanbrugh, and others, they are to be entertained with one of these pantomimes, of which the master of the playhouse, two or three painters, and half a score dancing-masters are the compilers. What these entertainments are, I need not inform you, who have seen 'em; but I have often wondered how it was possible for any creature of human understanding, after having been diverted for three hours with the production of a great genius, to sit for three more and see a set of people running about the stage after one another, without speaking one syllable, and playing several juggling tricks, which are done at Fawks's after a much better manner; and for this, sir, the town does not only pay additional prices, but loses several fine parts of its best authors, which are cut out to make room for the said farces.
Sneer. 'Tis very true; and I have heard a hundred say the same thing, who never failed being present at them.
Fust. And while that happens, they will force any entertainment upon the town they please, in spite of its teeth. [Ghost of COMMON SENSE rises.] Oons, and the devil, madam! what's the meaning of this? You have left out a scene. Was ever such an absurdity as for your ghost to appear before you are killed.
Q. C. S. I ask pardon, sir; in the hurry of the battle I forgot to come and kill myself.
Fust. Well, let me wipe the flour off your face then. And now, if you please, rehearse the scene; take care you don't make this mistake any more though, for it would inevitably damn the play if you should. Go to the corner of the scene, and come in as if you had lost the battle.
Q. C. S. Behold the ghost of Common Sense appears.
Fust. 'Sdeath, madam, I tell you you are no ghost – you are not killed.
Q. C. S. Deserted and forlorn, where shall I fly. The battle's lost, and so are all my friends.
Enter a Poet.
Poet. Madam, not so; still you have one friend left.
Q. C. S. Why, what art thou?
Poet. Madam, I am a poet.
Q. C. S. Whoe'er thou art, if thou'rt a friend to misery, Know Common Sense disclaims thee.
Poet. I have been damn'd Because I was your foe, and yet I still Courted your friendship with my utmost art.
Q. C. S. Fool! thou wert damn'd because thou didst pretend
Thyself my friend; for hadst thou boldly dared,
Like Hurlothrumbo, to deny me quite,
Or, like an opera or pantomime,
Profess'd the cause of Ignorance in publick,
Thou might'st have met with thy desired success;
But men can't bear even a pretence to me.
Poet. Then take a ticket for my benefit night.
Q. C. S. I will do more – for Common Sense will stay Quite from your house, so may you not be damn'd.
Poet. Ha! say'st thou? By my soul, a better play
Ne'er came upon a stage; but, since you dare
Contemn me thus, I'll dedicate my play
To Ignorance, and call her Common Sense:
Yes, I will dress her in your pomp, and swear
That Ignorance knows more than all the world. [Exit.
Enter FIREBRAND.
Fireb. Thanks to the Sun for this desired encounter.
Q. C. S. Oh, priest! all's lost; our forces are o'erthrown – Some gasping lie, but most are run away.
Fireb. I knew it all before, and told you too The Sun has long been out of humour with you.
Q. C. S. Dost thou, then, lay upon the Sun the faults Of all those cowards who forsook my cause?
Fireb. Those cowards all were most religious men: And I beseech thee, Sun, to shine upon them.
Q. C. S. Oh, impudence! and darest thou to my face? —
Fireb. Yes, I dare more; the Sun presents you this, [Stabs her. Which I, his faithful messenger, deliver.
Q. C. S. Oh, traytor! thou hast murder'd Common Sense.
Farewel, vain world! to Ignorance I give thee,
Her leaden sceptre shall henceforward rule.
Now, priest, indulge thy wild ambitious thoughts;
Men shall embrace thy schemes, till thou hast drawn
All worship from the Sun upon thyself:
Henceforth all things shall topsy-turvy turn;
Physick shall kill, and Law enslave the world;
Cits shall turn beaus, and taste Italian songs,
While courtiers are stock-jobbing in the city.
Places requiring learning and great parts
Henceforth shall all be hustled in a hat,
And drawn by men deficient in them both.
Statesmen – but oh! cold death will let me say
No more – and you must guess et caetera. [Dies.
Fireb. She's gone! but ha! it may beseem me ill
T' appear her murderer. I'll therefore lay
This dagger by her side; and that will be
Sufficient evidence, with a little money,
To make the coroner's inquest find self-murder.
I'll preach her funeral sermon, and deplore
Her loss with tears, praise her with all my art.
Good Ignorance will still believe it all. [Exit.
Enter Queen IGNORANCE, &c.
Q. Ign. Beat a retreat; the day is now our own;
The powers of Common Sense are all destroy'd;
Those that remain are fled away with her.
I wish, Mr Fustian, this speech be common sense.
Sneer. How the devil should it, when she's dead?
