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Theophilus Cibber [1748], Romeo and Juliet, a tragedy, Revis'd, and Alter'd from Shakespear, By Mr. Theophilus Cibber. First Reviv'd (in September, 1744,) at the Theatre in the Hay-Market: Now Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane... To which is added, A Serio-Comic Apology, For Part of the Life of Mr. Theophilus Cibber, Comedian. Written by Himself... Interspersed with Memoirs and Anecdotes, relating to Stage-Management, Theatrical Revolutions, &c. Also, Cursory Observations on some principal Players... Concluding with a Copy of Verses, call'd, The Contrite Comedian's Confession (Printed for C. Corbett... and G. Woodfall [etc.], London) [word count] [S37400]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
Dedication TO The. Cibber.
Nov. 25, 1748.
Dramatis Personæ.
Romeo.
Prince [Escalus].
Lord
Romeo and Juliet.
Enter Romeo.
Enter Capulet.
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Apologies are now become the Mode,
and who would be out of it? So I plead
Fashion for my appearing Abroad in this
Manner.—Now, though it is a hazardous
Task to say any thing of one's Self, and an invidious
One often to speak even in the Praise of Others; yet,
spite of the Imputation of a vain Egotist, or being
thought the partial Flatterer of any one, I shall venture
at the following Memoirs, without any farther
prefatory Parade:—I might indeed have made Use of
a stale Device, and got some well-meaning Friend (a
Man of great Judgment to be sure, and quite skilled in
all Matters relating to the Stage) to have wrote an Introduction
for me, my Modesty being fearful of the
arduous Task. Such Things have passed; and it is
not out of our Memory, when a celebrated satyrical
Poem was ushered into the World, by a military
Champion (who Dymock like) threw down his
Gauntlet, to challenge All who dared to gainsay the
Infallibility of the great Pope—and who the Devil
durst?—Nay, to the last Edition of this Work even a
Reverend D&wblank;e has not declined setting his Name to
an Introduction of this favourite Cub new lick'd, tho'
he seems to have but little Excuse for it, but his sudden
great Friendship to the all-bepraised Poet, besides
the Pleasure of abusing a Man whom he scarce knew
if he had met him; and indeed appeared as little acquainted
with, as he has since proved himself to be with
the right Reading of Shakespear, or a true Taste of Criticism:
How far his Knowledge extends therein, any
one may soon learn by dipping into Mr. W&sblank;rb&sblank;rt&sblank;n's
new Edition of our great Dramatic Writer; or taking
a View of Mr. Upton's Observations, &c. (a Work
worthy any one's Perusal) wherein his Reverendship's
Taste and Judgment, tho' but tenderly touched, may
be seen in a pretty just Light. Besides, had I taken this Method, my Friend might
have gratified the Curiosity of the Public, by giving
them a long Bead-Roll of various Parts, Tragic and
Comic, in every one of which I appeared with Applause;
and then have added, The Testimonies of Authors
in praise of my extraordinary Merits, collected
from ransacked Dedications, and Prefaces; some long
forgot, and some scarce read at all; or from quondam
occasional Copies of Verses, the frequent Embellishments
of Daily News-Papers, Weekly Journals and
Monthly Magazines, which none (but the Praiser or
Praised) ever thought worth preserving from the cruel
Ravage of undiscerning Chandlers, empty Trunk-makers,
and paltry partial Pastry Cooks;—inveterate
Enemies! Destroyers of all Puffs—but their own. Under the disadvantageous Want of such introductory
Auxiliaries, I shall proceed; and inform the Reader,
the Play of Romeo and Juliet, as here revlsed,
&c. was first performed at the Little Theatre in the
Haymarket on Sept. the 11th, 1744; and the present
Publication of it gives Birth to this Apology, &c.
Sometimes you've smil'd upon her Sire's Endeavours,
Who humbly hopes Continuance of your Favour
Her Mother's Mem'ry fresh and fair survives,
And added Lustre to the Daughter gives;
By Nature's Self inspir'd she gain'd Applause,
Let her Remembrance plead the Daughter's Cause;
Who, full of modest Terror, dreads t' appear,
But, trembling, begs a Father's Fate to share. This Play was acted, at the aforesaid Theatre,
twelve Nights with Success. I undertook the Part
of Romeo, and performed to the Satisfaction of my
Auditors. Jenny nightly improved in the Part of Juliet.
Our Audiences were frequently numerous, and
of the politest Sort. During the Run of the Play, the
following Verses were inserted in one of the News-Papers:
They were the mere Effect of a young Gentleman's
Good-nature, who professed his Admiration of
Jane's Performance: This alone could be his Motive.
We were neither of us acquainted with the Gentleman;
the Verses were some time in Print before I ever saw
them; and it was a long time before I even learned
the Author's Name: So he was quite a Volunteer in
young Juliet's Cause.—Here they are for your Perusal, if you please.
What Pain I felt to hear the fond One grieve
When banish'd Romeo took his early Leave!
Fixt to remain a true and faithful Bride,
How resolute the sleepy Charm she try'd,
And, waking, plung'd the Poniard in her Side!
So just her Accent, so correct her Air,
My Soul confess'd a very Juliet there.
Strange! that affected Nature can impart
Such real Pleasure, and such real Smart!
Yours is the Talent; whence our Hopes conceive
Good Sense and Freedom shall again revive;
Where damning Custom could, unheard, prevail,
Your Voice shall save the Poet and his Tale;
Who will not listen to your soothing Strain?
Can Merit plead an Author's Cause in vain?
Where Innocence and rip'ning Beauty meet,
A solid Judgment and a piercing Wit;
These, on the Stage, Mankind, admiring, see,
And these Mankind admire and trace in Thee!
Still, still may Innocence thy Fortunes crown
With virtuous Bliss, and with a chaste Renown!
Convince a doubtful and censorious Age
Youth, uncorrupt, may tread the British Stage:
Oh! never, Nymph, so fair a Cause decline,
But, with unsully'd Lustre, ever shine!
Thus, living, reign in every Breast belov'd,
And stand to all Posterity approv'd. At this time there were, besides myself, several Performers
unemploy'd at the Theatres (why I was not
engaged, will more at large appear in some Papers, and
Addresses, &c. hereunto annexed) who all began to look
towards my small Rag of a Standard, now set up in
the Haymarket; and no wonder in such Circumstances,
if, like the shipwrecked Sailors in the Tempest, they
were ready to cry, A Sail! a Sail! at the Sight of a
white Apron. Our little Campaign opened with such
Appearance of Success, my much-superior rival Potentate,
the Monarch of Drury-lane, began to be jealous
of what he at first laughingly affected to despise. Our
Forces encreased.—Mr. Mills, and his Wife, Mrs.
Roberts, (since dead) Mr. Morgan, and some others,
listed under my Bit of a Banner. (Mr. Macklin and
his Wife were in Treaty with me, and Preliminary
Articles were drawing up.) We found ourselves able,
among other Things, to play the Conscious Lovers, for
a Run of five or six Nights, in which Jenny gained a
still farther Reputation in the Character of Indiana.
Particularly, it was played one filthy, foggy, dismal,
dreary Night, to a very good Audience, when one of
the Theatres-Royal debated, till very late, whether
they should play or no, to a most scanty Company;
and the other Theatre-Royal forbore to light the Candles,
which the thin Appearance they had would
hardly enable them to pay for, and so courteously dismissed
the very few who through foul Weather had
come to see them. Mrs. Clive (whose Merit needs no Commendation)
was among the Number of discarded Performers.
—She took a Concert for her Benefit, and to that
End hired the Little Theatre of me. She was honoured
with the Presence of their Royal Highnesses
the Prince and Princess of Wales; and many
Persons of the first Distinction appeared in the
Pit and Boxes: It was concluded she was to be engaged
with me, which probably might have been the
Case had not a Power too great to be resisted put a
Stop to our Proceedings.—Had she become one of
our Allies much farther might have been hoped.—
But, on my Walking, and Chatting, for about half
an Hour one Day, with Mr. Garrick, in Covent-Garden,
who was not then engaged (it being early in the
Season) at any Theatre.—The Alarm immediately
spread; it was now no Time to trifle:—Had the
Queen of Hungary, in her Distresses, privately parley'd
with the young Prussian Monarch, her Enemies
could not have felt a greater Jealousy than possessed
Prince Charles Fleetwood (then Drury's potent Patentee)
on this ominous and threatning Interview. He sent
one of his politick Emissaries, to sift from me, by
way of Friendship, whether Mr. Garrick and I were
likely to join Forces or no: And—to be sure!—
if there had been any Agreement between us, I would
have told him all. Pauvre Diable!—so he return'd
—just as wise as he came.—Our Destruction
however was determined, and we had no better
Chance than some Dutch Garrisons against the thundering
Bombs of Marshal Saxe. On this, strong Application was made to our Superiors,
in consequence of which down came, from the
Lord Ch&wblank;berl&wblank;n's Office, a Noli Prosequi to our
Proceedings.—Soon after we fruitlesly presented a
Petition (signed by several Actors and Actresses, in
behalf of themselves and other disbanded Troops)
which, like many other publick Petitions, destined to be
over-look'd, but never to be look'd-over, was ordered
to lie upon the Table—Till the Sweeper perhaps
brush'd it into the Fire:—On this I had Recourse
(not without Advice) to the following Expedient;
what was the Consequence you'll know presently: first
read the Address (if you've a Mind to it)—Here
it is. Though Theatrical Cases have been, of late,
very much in Fashion, it is with Reluctance I
trouble the Town with any thing of this Sort; yet, I
apprehend, the Necessity thereof will be so evident,
the Publick will excuse it. I shall not tire the Patience of my Readers with
bitter Invectives against Patentees, or a partial Eulogium
on myself: Their Behaviour the Town is pretty
well acquainted with, of which, as well as of my Capacity
pacity as a Performer, the Publick are left to judge for
themselves. The Beginning of the Winter before
this, at the pressing Solicitations of Mr. Fleetwood to
join his Company, I left Dublin, though solicited to
stay there, on very handsome and advantageous Terms.
But it may not, perhaps, be absurd to make it known,
that, last Summer, in three several Letters addressed
to Mr. Fleetwood, I made him a Proffer of my Service,
as an Actor, or Assistant-Manager, if he pleased
to employ me as Either, or both, without any Sort of
new Demand; nay, indeed, I left the Terms for him
to propose, and flatter'd myself, my long Study and
Experience might merit some Consideration; he, it
seems, thought otherwise. I proffered him my
Daughter's Service likewise, and waited upwards of Six
Weeks for an Answer; but he had not Good-nature
enough (I had like to have said Good-manners) to
send me any Answer at all. I think there was not a
Syllable, in any one of these Letters, could give the
least Offence. In the Conclusion of my last I told
him—If he continued his Silence, I must interpret it
as a Negative to my proffer'd Service; therefore whatever
Steps I took, I hoped he would not consider 'em
as any Acts of Enmity towards him, but (as Self-preservation
is the first Law of Nature) the Support of
myself and Family required I should not be idle; and
I should ever be desirous of continuing his obliged
Friend, and very humble Servant. In consequence of this, on September the 11th, I, by
Permission, opened the Theatre in the Hay-market;
the Success I met with requires my grateful Acknowledgments.
I humbly entreat the Ladies and Gentlemen
who have countenanced my Endeavours there, to
accept of my unfeigned Thanks for all their past Favours. Permission being discontinued, it behoves me to
think how I am to live; and I wish to do it in such a
manner, as may yet add to the Diversions of the
Town, and in some sort entitle me to their future Protection.
'Tis natural, in our Distresses, to apply to our
Friends; I shall therefore call in to my Assistance one
of the Sister-Arts, viz. MUSICK, and purpose to
have frequent Concerts at the late Little Theatre in
the Hay-Market, which I have taken to turn into an
Academy, and will procure the best Hands and Voices
I can engage. For my farther Support, I purpose to
instruct (on very reasonable Terms) such young Persons
of Genius as I can find, in the Arts of Action
and Elocution, &c. so as to enable them to speak
with Propriety in Publick, whatever Station of Life
they may be called to, whether the Stage, the Bar, the
Pulpit, or the Senate; but more particularly in the
Theatrical Way: Thus this Academy may become a
Nursery of Actors and Actresses, for the future Entertainment
of the Town, when any Casualty may deprive
the Play-houses of those Proficients who now
appear on the different Stages.—As I am advised
by the Learned in the Laws of the Land, that no Act of
Parliament deems Acting Malum in se, I shall not be
afraid, for the better Instruction of my Pupils, the
more to embolden them to a Stage, to permit them
frequently (in Conjunction with my Assistants) publickly
to rehearse several Pieces of our most celebrated
Authors; and that the Town may be the Judges of the
Progress they make in their Studies, those Rehearsals
(with proper Habits, Decorations, &c.) will be exhibited
Gratis: To which publick Rehearsals the Patentees
shall be also admitted, if they please to favour
us with their Company, that thay may see whether the
Academy does not afford some Performers who might
be no bad Addition to their present Companies. Proper
Masters will be provided for the Instruction of
Gentlemen and Ladies, in several other Branches of
Polite Literature; and a Plan of the whole, with the
Terms, &c. annexed, will speedily be published. Money will be taken for the Performances of the
Concerts only; and the Exhibition of the Publick Rehearsals
will be always Gratis. Care will be taken that
every thing shall be conducted with the utmost Decency
and Decorum; and such due Regard paid to the Government,
the Laws of the Land, Religion, Morality,
and the Peace of the Publick, that nothing, in
the least offensive to either, shall be ever countenanced;
but, on the contrary, all Offenders will be
punished as the Law directs. As a Servant of the Publick, I beg leave to subscribe
myself Their most obliged, devoted,
very humble Servant,
THEO. CIBBER. Modus in dicendo quærendus.
Sunt quidam aut ita lingua hæsitantes, aut ita voce
absoni, aut ita vultu motuque corporis vasti atque agrestes,
ut etiamsi ingeniis atque arte valeant, tamen in doctorum
numerum venire non possint: Sunt autem quidem
ita naturæ muneribus in iisdem rebus habiles, ita ornati,
ut non nati, sed ab aliquo Deo ficti esse videantur. Cicero. On November the 1st, the Academy was opened,—
all was carefully and quietly conducted; the first Play
was Romeo; the next was Cymbeline; Jenny Cibber
play'd Imogen with no less Applause than had attended
her other Performances: Money was taken to the
Concert only, which lasted till near seven; then the
Doors of the Theatre were shut, and the Rehearsal of
the Play, (as proposed) given gratis to all whose Curiosity,
or Leisure, inclined them to stay, and none
could be admitted for Money after the Play begun.—
All yet was calm; but oh! 'twas ominous! More Engines were set to work, to shake this new
fangled Fabrick, this poor Academy; which occasioned
the following literary Correspondence between
the late Sir Thomas De Veil, Knight, Justice of Peace,
&c. and Mr. Theophilus Cibber, then stiled Master of
the New Academy in the Hay-Market: Take 'em in
the Order they were wrote. SIR, I see by your Advertisements, in regard to your
Academical Performances, that they are of the
same Nature as Mr. L&wblank;c&wblank;y's were some Years ago,
which brought him to a great deal of Trouble. Some
strong Applications are making now to give you
some; of which I think proper to give you Notice,
in this private Manner, that you may avoid it, as I
wish you well, and am, Sir, Your most humble Servant,
Tho. De Veil. SIR, I thank you for the Favour of yours, which I answered
directly by Word of Mouth, that the Person
might not wait whom you sent: But now I take
the Liberty of writing, lest the Omission should appear
want of Respect.—Without any Sort of Equivocation,
I shall take Money only (To-morrow) for the Concert,
which will be in a regular Manner. The Play
that I rehearse is absolutely licensed, tho' what Friends
I permit to be at it I shall entertain gratis. The Address
inclosed I believe clearly explains all that. As to
the Scheme you mention of Mr. L&wblank;c&wblank;y's, no such idle
Thought could ever enter my Head: My steady Attachment
to the present happy Establishment, and Government
is well known;—I have even suffered for it.
What he did, had I been (his Brother) on a Jury, I
must have construed a very notorious Libel, or have
given a Verdict against my Conscience.—My Intention
is legally, loyally, honestly and peaceably to get a
Livelihood for myself and Family. If any Person may
imagine I do what is contrary to any Law, I am ready,
on proper Notice, to order an Attorney to appear for
me, to join Issue, and fairly try it in the Court of
King's-Bench.—When Sir Thomas, or any of his Family,
will favour me with their Company, I shall order
Places to be kept for them; and if your Health or
Leisure will not permit you, Sir, to do me that Honour
To-morrow, I should be glad if you would send
any of your Family (the Gentleman you sent To-night,
if you please) to see, I aim only innocently to instruct
and delight in a legal Way. I am, Sir, &c. SIR, I was moved with Compassion when I read your
Letter, at the Description you gave of your own
Situation, that is, to have your Bread to seek. As to
your Attachment to the Government, I do not at all
question, nor do I believe that you would do any
thing upon the Stage that should cause its Resentment.
But as to your Law, I am afraid you greatly mistake
it, for in your Letter you say, That if any Body thinks
you do any Thing against Law, you are ready to try
the Cause, and join Issue with any that shall attack
you: But the Merits of the Cause are not as you seem
to state them. It is no Matter whether the Play you
act is licensed or not; if it is not licensed, it is directly
flying in the Face of the Government; and if it is licensed,
you must shew your License for playing of it;
nor will you be attacked in the Manner you set out:
All Players of Interludes, Drolls, &c. who without a
Patent from his Majesty, License, or other proper Authority,
take upon them to exhibit Plays to the Publick
(as they call it, gratis) but subjoined to any other
lucrative Thing whatsoever exhibited at the same time,
is nothing but an Evasion of the Act of Parliament;
and every Player, Pupil, or Person acting under any
Denomination whatsoever, will fall immediately under
the Lash of the Law, and any two of his Majesty's
Justices of the Peace acting in the Division where such
Plays, or Drolls, are exhibited, may, by a Warrant
under their Hands and Seals (Information being first
made before them) take up all such Persons as they
find so acting and exhibiting Plays, or Drolls, as Vagabonds,
and they must be brought before the Justices
who have granted such Warrants, and sit for that Purpose,
to be examined what they are, and how they
live; for in the Case of L&wblank;c&wblank;y, though I believe the
Government might be very much offended at what he,
and his Pupils, exhibited at that time: The Point in
Dispute was not the Substance of his Disrespect to the
Government, but that he should take upon him to exhibit
Plays, or Drolls, without Authority, or License,
and he himself was deemed a Vagabond, and was committed
to hard Labour as such: As to his Pupils they
had better Luck, for, upon the Appearance of the
Constables and Warrant, they all run away, and so
escaped the Punishment they would otherwise have undergone. Sir, I have stated this Case to you very fully, because
I take it to be parallel with yours, and because I
would have you have the Opinion of the Learned in
the Law, before you run the Hazard of a Matter of so
great a Consequence to you and your Friends. I am, Sir,
Your humble Servant,
And Well-wisher,
Thomas de Veil. On this I, by Appointment, waited on Sir Thomas
at his House in Bow-street, who was confined at Home
by a Fit of the Gout. His Reception of me was very
Gentleman-like, and good-natured, and his Behaviour
very frank and open. He fairly told me, he was so
strongly urged to give me Disturbance, from some
Persons not to be gain-sayed, that it was with Difficulty,
from the Good-will he had for me, he had delayed
granting Warrants so long: That if he was again
urged he must comply; but, even then, would
give me a friendly Notice. He thought my Case deserved
a more favourable Treatment, and wished he
knew how to remedy it.—We had then a long Discourse
on the Act of Parliament.—But 'ware Politicks!
I shan't dabble in that Discourse here I assure you. He
gave me to understand, as the Magistrate was in this
Case become both Judge and Jury, to think of having
Recourse to the Courts in Westminster-Hall, might
prove the Strength of a Man's Purse, and the Length
of his Patience, but would give but small Proof of his
Prudence—and in the End would avail him nothing.
He generously kept his Word with me, as to the Promise
of sending me Notice; and on a farther Application
made to him to attack us, I received this other
Letter from him. SIR, In pursuance of my Promise that I would do nothing
against your Theatre, or you, without first
giving you Notice, I do hereby acquaint you, that I
am obliged to proceed against you, and that I shall,
with another of his Majesty's Justices of the Peace,
stop all your Theatrical Performances, of which take
Notice, that you may not blame Your humble Servant,
Thomas De Veil. And so down dropped the Academy. It was hinted to me, I might, unmolested, take a
Benefit for myself, or Daughter, or both; and thereupon
issued forth this Advertisement.
As to expect Favours unsolicited may be deemed
the Effect of Pride, so to make that Solicitation,
I hope, will scarce be thought a forward Assurance,
especially at a Juncture when I stand most in Need of
the Favour and Protection of my Friends and Patrons:
Therefore I entreat this Method may be excused of
requesting those Ladies and Gentlemen, (whose Generosity
and Indulgence I have often experienced) who
may not be better engaged, to honour my Child with
their Presence on Monday Night the 17th Instant, to
see the Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet (with the Farce
of the Mock Doctor, &c.) acted for her Benefit. As I am informed many Persons of Distinction, &c.
have thought me worthy (as an Actor) of being sometimes
the Subject of their Conversation; and as several
in the publick Daily-Papers, and other Pamphlets,
have been pleased to speak of me with Favour, I think
it may better become me to be silent on that Subject,
than to trouble the Town with a tedious Recital of any
Manager's Proceedings, and which they are already
well acquainted with: If I have any Degree of Merit,
as a Comedian, to blazon it myself to the Town (who
ought to judge for themselves) were an idle Impertinence;
and if I have none, it were an Arrogance I
hope never to be charged with. After Twenty five
Years being on the Stage, I am, without even a pretended
Reason, excluded it; I have therefore resolved
(with Permission) on taking a Benefit for my Child:
If it meets with the Encouragement of the Publick,
and many Friends flatter me it will, I shall venture at
one more for myself. And then—if I am not reinstated
in one of the Theatres on easy Terms, or cannot
procure Leave to get my Bread in my present Profession,
I must (though late in the Day to do it) think
of some other Means for the Support of Myself and
Children; and (though with Regret) take my Leave
of the Stage for ever; but shall ever have a grateful
Remembrance of the many Favours I received from
the Publick, while I was permitted to add to their
Diversion. As I have it not in my Power, at present, personally
to attend, and solicit the Favours of those Gentlemen
and Ladies, who may be so good to countenance us on
this Occasion, I hope they will excuse the Freedom of
requesting they would send their Commands to the
New Theatre in the Hay-Market (where Tickets and
Places may be had) which Commands shall be punctually
obey'd by Their most obliged, obedient,
devoted humble Servant,
Theo. Cibber. On the 17th, the aforementioned Play and Farce
was acted, to a brilliant Audience; and the following
Epilogue was spoke, on that Occasion, by our young
Actress little Jane.
Whilst fir'd by them she wing'd a nobler Pitch,
And gain'd a Height I might be proud to reach.
Oh! had she liv'd! I'd caught the genial Flame,
Soar'd as she soar'd, and strove to match her Fame.
Since for her Mem'ry then, ye Brave, and Fair,
You've ta'en her unskill'd Infant to your Care;
As you my Hopes befriend, my Fears appease,
And kindly point me out the Way to please;
I'll toil to prove, at a maturer Age,
A second Jenny Cibber on the Stage:— About this time Mr. Fleetwood, by a Decree in
Chancery, was obliged to sell the Remainder of his
Patent, to satisfy the several Mortgages he had loaded
it with: and which amounted to more than its real
Value: Accordingly it was purchased by two harmless
meaning Men, with such Annuities tack'd to it,
and under such odd Incumbrances, as shew'd they
were no great Adepts in the Affair, they had undertaken:
They had assign'd all Power as Patentees, to
a third Partner, whom they admitted into a Share on
the easy Terms of not advancing a Shilling; he having
no large Sums to disburse, on this, or any other
Occasion: And they further prevailed on his easy
condescending Temper, to accept of a certain Salary
(of several Hundreds a Year) over and above his
Share of the Profits, whenever they might arise, to take
the Direction entirely on himself. What his extraordinary
Abilities were, that tempted them to this unprecedented
Piece of Policy, as yet remains a Secret; but
thus they reduced themselves to the State of the
Sailors, in the Tempest; they were stil'd Viceroys indeed;
—But Duke Trincalo was Viceroy over them:
And little Privilege remain'd to them, more than that
of answering Bills and paying of Accounts due to Balance,
—which came pretty thick and fast upon them. In about a Twelvemonth they became Bankrupts,
some other Misfortunes falling on them; they were
Bankers and Men who bore honest Characters: Their
Shares in the Patent sold for about half what they
stood them in; and since are become the Property of
Messieurs Garrick, Lacey, &c. This Abdication of 'Squire Fleetwood's, from the
Government of Drury-Lane, releas'd Mr. Rich from
some Engagements he was under to Mr. Fleetwood,
(to whom he had lent, or procur'd from a Friend,
some Thousands on his Patent, Wardrobe, Scenes,
&c.) and left him at Liberty to add to his Company
such Performers, as he thought might strengthen it:
He had opened that Season with a very good one, with
Mr. Quin, (some Years deservedly esteemed a first-rate
Actor) and Mrs. Pritchard, (generally allow'd
by many, to be a good Actress) at the Head of them:
About a Fortnight before Christmas, Mrs. Clive appeared
on Covent-Garden Stage; and soon after
Christmas your humble Servant was entertained there
also: On which I declin'd the Benefit I had propos'd
taking at the Hay-Market, and gave my Friends no
Trouble on that Account; 'till the common Course
of the Season entitled me to that usual Perquisite, as
a Performer.
Mr. Rich had an extraordinary successful Season;
which was not at all the Case at Drury-Lane, tho' the
fortunate Favourite Mr. Garrick and Mrs. Cibber were
engaged there; Mr. Sheridan likewise from Ireland,
a kind of occasional Performer, (who indeed did nothing
extraordinary) play'd there; as did that admirable
Actress Mrs. Woffington, (who has lately prov'd
her Excellencies are not confin'd to the Comic Scene
alone;) but thro' a Deficiency in the Managers Conduct,
or from his being weak enough to give way to
the Artifices of some little private Parties and Cabals
form'd against her, (as such will creep sometimes into
the Cabinets and Councils of our petty Theatrical
States) she was not made that advantageous Use of
which, for the Interest of himself, of her, and the
Company, she might, and ought to have been. In this Year, (the Beginning of 1745,) Mr. Cibber
Senior, brought his Play, call'd Papal Tyranny, on the
Stage, at the Theatre-Royal in Covent-Garden; which
had a Run of a dozen Nights: He play'd himself in
it the Part of Pandulph the Cardinal with uncommon
Spirit for a Man enter'd into the seventy-fourth
Year of his Age; I need not remind the Judicious of
his masterly and graceful Action, &c.—The Play
succeeded to his utmost Wish: This was the last
Piece he ever acted in. His Performances always
added a Brilliancy to the Scenes wherein he appeared;
and he might be said in this, to have left the Stage
with an Eclat.—Servetur ad Imum, &c.—He determined
never more to appear on the Theatre, and
will hardly now alter his Resolution. No sooner was it notified to the Publick, that the Play
of Papal Tyranny was speedily to be performed at
the Theatre-Royal in Covent-Garden; but the following
uncommon absurd Advertisement (invidiously
design'd) appeared at the Bottom of Drury-Lane Play-Bills,
&c. The Proprietor of Drury-Lane Theatre having received
Letters from several Gentlemen, pressing him to
revive the Tragedy of King John, to comply with this
Request (as he shall always make it his Business to oblige
the Publick) he immediately put the Play in Rehearsal;
but upon Information that the Author of a Play on the
same Subject, had insinuated that this was calculated
only to prejudice him, the Revival was intended to be
deferr'd till the Run of his Play should be over: But
upon Perusal of the Bills he finds this to be no Alteration,
as was thought, but a New Tragedy founded only
upon that Plan. Therefore in Compliance with the
above Request, and at the same time to take off all Imputation
of an Injury to this Author, the Proprietor
has deferr'd the bringing it on till Tuesday next, the
Day after the Author's Benefit; when will be exhibited
the Historical Play of King John, as written by
Shakespear. Who really this Proprietor was, in a strict Sense at
that Juncture, would not have been easy to determine;
the Sharers in the Patent were several; the Lease of
the House, the Wardrobe, Scenes, Decorations, and
the Treasurer's Office, were still liable to the Payment
of a Debt of 6000 l. due to a Gentleman, who very
prudently took Care, for his better Security, to keep
a Person in Possession of them all: But however a
particular Person appeared as acting Manager.—To
this Director then, we may suppose, the several pressing
Letters were sent, from the Lord knows who, and
the Lord knows where; a poor Contrivance! a worn-out
Trick! a Cobweb too thin to catch the smallest
Fly:—An humble Imitation of his Predecessor C. F.
Esq; whose little Artifices of this Sort were too well
known to pass. He was so fond of 'em, he kept a
small Pauper Genius in Pay, to write occasional Papers,
commendatory Verses, anonymous Letters, Remarks
on Theatrical Contests, ribbald Songs, Panegyricks
on the Patentees, or Libels on the Performers,
as Occasion required: 'Twas this Man's further Business
also to write Orders for the Pit, and Galleries,
and disperse them among such Elimosinary Friends,
as were ever ready to applaud, or condemn, Plays
and Players, &c. as his directorial Dictatorship should
please to determine. Well, in kind Condescension to this Request, (as
he should always make it his Business to oblige the Publick
—Puff again,) he immediately put the Play into
Rehearsal,—and what then?—Why, upon Information
that the Author of a Play on the same Subject,
&c.—This Information, possibly, came from the
same Quarter, one of the several pressing Letters came
from.—But, I believe, I may venture to affirm, the
Author had never insinuated any such thing; nor
gave himself the least trouble about it: Tho' that the
Revival of King John might be calculated to prejudice
the Run of the other Play, many Persons reasonably
suggested. So the Proprietor resolves to postpone the
Revival of King John till the Run of the other Play
should be over; which Resolution he kept to, by
bringing out the reviv'd Play on the fourth Night
of the new one:—For, upon Perusal of the Bills,
he finds out the new Play was not an Alteration,
because 'twas wrote on Shakespear's Plan. What a
deep Discerner! out of his gracious Goodness, to take
off all Imputation of an Injury intended (which he thus
did with a witness) he charitably would omit playing
it (probably because it could not be ready sooner) till
the Author's third Night was over.—Was the Author's
Interest to end there then? Or, did this Director's
impenetrable Judgment foretell the Author
was not to have the Profits of a sixth and a ninth
Night? His undisputed Right, according to ancient
Custom, where a Play succeeds, which it did, maugre
this impotent Attempt to impede it. And so, on
the Tuesday following this Advertisement, the Historical
Play of King John was exhibited; which, if it
had not, had prov'd no great Loss to the Manager
or Company; for not much Profit, or Reputation, accru'd
to either, from the acting of it; saving, indeed,
to the Actress, whose inimitable Performance in
the Part of Constance was universally applauded, and
which short Part alone seem'd to keep it alive the
few Nights of Representation. Mr. Garrick was not
judged to appear in the Part of the King so advantageously
as in some orhers (as indeed in several he is
mighty Praise-worthy;) and the other Characters in
general, were far from being approved of. I had not
taken so much notice of this Proceeding had I not
thought it no very handsome Treatment of one,
whose Merits as an Actor, and Writer, have added
so much Reputation to our English Theatre, who sure
deserved (in this his last Exit from the Stage) from
Patentee and Player, all the Cherishing and Indulgence
could possibly be shewn; and whose Memory
will ever be respected by the Judicious of both
Parties. The two last-mentioned Performers are rare Instances
of the quick Progress of uncommon Genius; like
Coursers of true Blood they not only set out very
forward, and got the Start of several, but have maintained
their Speed, and rather improved than slackned
in the Race.— The common Tones of their Voices have a natural
Pathos; their Features mark well; their Eye is never
vacant; which, whenever it wanders, be assured the
Actor's Mind is not fixed: They both express Grief
and Terror well—and a certain Proof of their feeling
themselves, is manifest in the Tears they draw from
their Spectators.—I mean not to depreciate them,
when I say, they are not equal in all Parts; or that
their Attempts in Comedy are much inferior to their
Tragic Performances: An Actor's being greater in
some Characters than others, takes not away all Merit
from them, even in the Parts where they are least excellent.
And I beg to be excused by their great Flatterers,
and Enthusiastic Admirers, if I can't allow all
acting was nothing 'till they appeared; or that all Merit
is centered in them alone: Let it suffice, they have
their peculiar Talents, which must be allow'd superior
to many of their Cotemporaries. I can't here forbear remembring another uncommon
Genius, who quitted the Stage, and the World together
not a long time before Mr. G. and Mrs. C.
commenc'd Players; this was Miss Jenny Johnson,
(whom I early married.) If I here quote a few Lines from the celebrated
Apologist, which he bestows on Mrs. Bracegirdle, the
Application will readily be made by all who remember
the young Woman I am now speaking of. “—She was now but just blooming to her Maturity;
her Reputation, as an Actress, gradually
rising with that of her Person; never Woman was
in more general Favour of her Spectators, which,
to the last Scene of her Life, she maintained, by
not being unguarded in her private Character.
This Discretion contributed, not a little, to make
her the Cara, the Darling of the Theatre:—And
tho' she might be said to have been the universal
Passion, and under high Temptations; her Constancy
in resisting them serv'd but to increase the
Number of her Admirers.”— She had a strong natural Genius,—a sweet Voice,—
an agreeable Countenance that bespoke Favour as soon
as beheld;—and an elegant and pleasing Form; she
lost no Time in Improvement, and excell'd in various
Lights: Tho' she came on the Stage at a less advantageous
Juncture than the two first mention'd. Those
Ornaments of the Stage Mrs. Oldfield, and Mrs. Porter,
were, in her Time, in their Height of Reputation, with
all their Force and Judgment in Perfection; besides, Mrs.
Younger, Mrs. Booth, Mrs. Horton, Mrs. Thurmond, Mrs.
Heron (all in their Prime) and several other Ladies,
were at that Time well established in the Opinion of
the Town, and in Possession of such a Number of
Parts as left not that Opening to Mrs. Jane Cibber to
shew herself, as a Dearth of Performers, of both Sexes,
(especially in the Tragic Cast) luckily afforded Mr. G.
and the present Mrs. C. on their first Appearance:
These two have also had a longer Time to advance—
Mrs. J. Cibber not outliving her twenty-seventh Year.
Nor were such various Arts made use of then, as have
been since, not sparingly, employ'd, to bespeak, and
secure, the Opinion of the Town in Behalf of new
Performers. About Easter in 1746,—I, in a foolish Pet, precipitately
(consequently imprudently) left Covent-Garden
Theatre, and went to Drury-Lane; as Sir Gilbert
Wrangle concisely says (not caring to dwell too long
on his own Error) in relation to his second Marriage,
—“I was wrong,—I was wrong;—I,—I—
should not have don't. (I heartily regretted my having
quitted Covent-Garden, and was not easy till I return'd)
—Don't imagine I mention this as my only Error,
(for I believe very few will contradict me, should I
own I have committed above a thousand) but as it
introduces something that happen'd upon it:—Just
at this Time Mrs. Cibber had promised to perform the
Part of Monimia, for the Benefit of her Brother, Mr.
Arne, on Saturday April the 12th; though she was
not that Season, engaged at any Theatre: My sudden
Return to Drury-Lane alarmed them so much, as was
pretended, that Mr. Arne waited on the Manager to
let him know, He thought of taking his Benefit at some
other Theatre; Mrs. Cibber being apprehensive of being
molested by me there;—which she had been well
assured was my Design. The Manager told Mr. Arne,
He might do as he pleased;—but he was very certain
I had not the least Intention of that Sort: and that
the Report had no justifiable Foundation. Which was
Fact.—I had a Benefit depending, which was to be
on Thursday the 10th, and, finding no Pains had been
spared, to propagate this Falshood, among People of
Distinction, I was at the Expence, of Printing what
follows,—but was so late inform'd of what had been
alledged against me, I had not above twenty-four
Hours to disperse it through the Town. It is with Reluctance I trouble the Town in this
Manner, especially with a Subject on which I
have long chose to be silent, and which I could wish
to drive from my Thoughts for ever; but some Application
appears necessary, as a Report has been industriously
and invidiously spread, and, I am informed,
has prevailed among some People of Distinction,
very much to my Prejudice, viz. That I removed
to Drury-Lane Theatre only to impede Mrs.
Cibber in her Performance there, &c. This Report is
absolutely false: I never had, nor have I any such
Intention. Were I prompt to exert the Authority I
have an undoubted Right to over her, I have had many
more convenient Opportunities; but I should, at
such a Time, decline giving her any Disturbance, were
it from no other Motive than my Complaisance to those
Ladies who are desirous to see her act. As she has sought every Occasion to disturb my
Peace of Mind, to stab my Reputation, and prejudice
my Circumstances, I should undoubtedly be justified
by all Mankind, in any Act of severe Justice towards
her, that would not debase my Manhood, or shock
my Humanity: But, low as she has reduced my Fortune,
(and that she has been the Source of my Calamities,
I will presently and concisely make appear) my
Mind has never sunk low enough to seek a mean Revenge,
even against the most faithless, artful, and ungrateful
Woman, that ever imposed on a good-natured
World, or disturbed the Heart of a weak Man;
—I doubt, my greatest Fault towards her, has been
too much Lenity: This I defy any partial Friend of
her's, or worst of my Foes, to disprove. I apprehend,
the Foundation of the aforementioned Report was
grounded on her own conscious Fears, which told her,
such Usage she ought to expect; having given some
late Instances of her Heart being entirely shut against
him, to whom alone it ought to be open. It is now* note about eight Years since her Elopement
from me, when I found myself deprived of the endearing
Solace of a Wife, at a time I stood most in
Need of such a Comfort; her Income might be reckoned
at little less than 700l. a Year, had she been as
willing as able to appear in her Business; yet, perhaps,
when this happened, I might be inclined to think, the
Want of her a greater Loss than being deprived of any
Fortune she could gain me. My Profusion (chiefly
bestowed on her) had loaded me with several Debts;
towards the Discharge of which, for some Seasons, I
appropriated my whole Salary. I found myself involved
in Law-Suits, and had the additional Aggravation
to my Misfortunes, to find myself pestered, by her,
with Suits in the Commons and Chancery. A few
Years since I was a Prisoner six Months in the Rules
of the Fleet; from which Place I extricated myself
with much Difficulty. Such a Complication of Misfortunes,
was enough to impair the Circumstances of a
better Income than mine. Soon after this, in hopes
of a quiet Life at least, though I despaired of a happy
one, at Mrs. Cibber's Request, I consented she should
engage at any Theatre she pleased, and be Mistress of
her Income, on Condition she did nothing in any
Shape to prejudice me. Yet I have now undoubted
Proof, the first Use she made of this Indulgence was, her
privately agreeing, that whatever Manager she played
with, should by no Means receive me into the same Company;
consequently, last Year† note, I was, for half the
Season, excluded both Theatres. I was banished Drury-Lane
Stage, because she acted there. And a Cartel
subsisting between the then Managers of the Theatres,
I could not be received at Covent-Garden, being on the
Drury-Lane List. On Mr. Fleetwood's parting with the
Patent, the Cartel ceasing, I was sent for to Covent-Garden
Theatre, and I submitted to take about half the Salary
the Patentees of each Theatre, for many Seasons before,
had voluntarily proffered me; though neither the
Managers or Actors, or the Town, (whose Opinion
was beyond them all) thought me a jot worse Actor
than I was before: Our own Opinion may be partial;
but the repeated indulgent Reception my Performances
met with, gave me no Cause to think I was lowered in
the Judgment of the Publick. Thus labouring under
Difficulties, no wonder that, at the beginning of last
Summer, I was again a Prisoner in the Fleet, and close
confined upwards of six Months.—I procured my Liberty
at a great Expence, under the greatest Distresses.
Some Friends of mine, (without my Knowledge, or
Desire) gave Mrs. Cibber a Hint, (after her performing
in the Beggars Opera) it would be no imprudent
Act of her, farther to ingratiate herself with the
World, to make a Proffer of playing a Night for
my Benefit; which, I am informed, she absolutely
refused. Yet, I had not been a little assiduous and instrumental,
in bringing about her acting Polly at Covent-Garden
Theatre: I thought the Occasion* note laudable,
and that it would be for the Reputation, of the
Company, who, to do them Justice, all chearfully contributed
their three Days Pay each, which was no
small Addition to the Subscription: I threw in my
Mite too;—and, that she might be under no Concern
on my Account, I promised, unask'd (and I kept
my Word) not to be in her Way any Night of her
Performance. While I was under Confinement, a Gentleman,
whose Talents and Genius have justly gain'd the Admiration
of Men of Taste, (and whose Abilities can
be exceeded only by his Humanity and Politeness)
touch'd with Compassion of my Misfortunes, most
generously made me a Present of a new Tragedy he
had wrote, not doubting but I could procure it being
acted at a proper Season. On Mrs. Cibber's appearing a
few Nights as before mentioned, this Gentleman address'd
her, in an Epistle, with a Delicacy peculiar to
himself, and endeavoured to convince her, how much
it would be for her Reputation, and Interest, to perform
a principal Part in that Play, on so particular an Occasion;
but this she likewise refus'd, tho' it was propos'd
the Manager should, on his Part, make it worth her
Trouble, by assigning an agreed Proportion from the
nightly Profits of its Run; and she was farther told, I
would desire her to accept what Part of Profit she
pleas'd from the third Nights, which the Author had
in the genteelest Manner assign'd to me: This likewise
was rejected. Why? because my Interest was concerned
in it. As to any Apprehension she might
have of enduring any Pain from my Presence, she
was assur'd I design'd not to be in the Play; and by
only speaking the Prologue, should have had no Occasion
(as I had no Desire) to give her any Confusion
of that Sort. That she must feel some at Sight of me,
I can readily suppose; unless she were insensible of
Feeling as of Shame. This Lady would have play'd
for her own Interest alone, if the Manager of Covent-Garden
would have comply'd with her Terms, which
were such as no Theatre could afford, nor any one
(without equal Pride and Vanity) could ask.—Whether
she has any other Support than the Produce of
her Labours on the Theatre, that can enable her so
Frequently to be absent from it, let a judicious World
guess, or her own unlimited Conscience declare. But
I have dwelt too long on an irksome Topic;—yet
was advis'd, by some Friends, that to be totally
silent, at this Juncture, would be very injudicious. I
ask Pardon of the Reader, whose Patience I may
have tired, and shall only add, that the Stories propagated
of my Intentions to disturb her, &c. are injurious,
false, and without Foundation.—Yet, whether
my Provocations are not unparallelled,—let the World
udge, and speak for me.
In the mean Time, I depend on the Candour and
Benevolence of the Publick, and hope these idle Tales
will have no farther Influence, to prevent the Good-nature
of the Town being shewn towards me at my
Benefit, which will be on Thursday next, the 10th
instant.—The several Entertainments, &c. are
particularly expressed in the Bills and Advertisements.
With a due Sense of all past Favours, I beg Leave to
subscribe myself, Gentlemen and Ladies,
Your most obedient,
very humble Servant,
The. Cibber. Ere I close my Theatrical Account, I beg a few
Words more concerning some of the Dramatis Personæ;
—and then, gentle Reader, farewell.—Mr. Barry,
Mrs. Ward, and Miss Bellamy, scarce coming within
the short-dated Chronology of this Scrap of Theatrical
History, I shall only take Notice, as they are possessed
of happy natural Gifts, such as good Voices, agreeable
Countenances, and pleasing Persons; and have shewn,
neither of them is wanting in a promising Genius:—If
they continue to improve as they have begun, they
cannot fail becoming skilful Proficients, in their different
Walks of Playing. I have yet but slightly mentioned Mr. Quin and
Mrs. Woffington; I beg the Reader's Indulgence to
say a little more of them; as I have been indebted to
them for much Delight, I am desirous to throw in my
Mite of Praise, to shew my well-meaning at least.
The Subject, I confess, deserves an abler Pen;—I
wish I may provoke some one of happier Talents, to
give them the Encomiums they deserve: An Attempt
to spread the Fame of the Meritorious has been thought
sometimes laudable,—and often produces one good
Effect at least,—that of spiriting up an Emulation in
others. I remember to have read, in The Apologist, some
Passages, relative to that great Master of our Art, Mr.
Betterton, which I am tempted to borrow, as they
seem not foreign to my Purpose, while I am speaking
of Mr. Quin. ‘When the Betterton Brutus was provoked in his
Dispute with Cassius, his Spirit few only to his Eye;
his steady Look alone supplied that Terror, which
he disdain'd an Intemperance in his Voice should rise
to. Thus with a settled Dignity of Contempt, like
an unheeding Rock, he repelled upon himself the
Foam of Cassius. ‘Betterton had a Voice of that Kind, which gave
more Spirit to Terror, than to the softer Passions; of
more Strength than Melody. The Rage and Jealousy
of Othello became him better, than the Sighs
and Tenderness of Castelio. ‘The Person of this excellent Actor was suitable to
his Voice, more manly than sweet, not exceeding
the middle Stature, inclining to the corpulent; of a
serious and penetrating Aspect; his Limbs nearer the
athletick, than the delicate Proportion; yet however
formed, there arose from the Harmony of the
whole a commanding Mien of Majesty, which the
fairer fac'd, or (as Shakespear calls them) the curled
Darlings of his Time, ever wanted something to be
equal Masters of.’ Now, if the Comparison holds, and these Words
happily describe some of Mr. Quin's Qualifications,
why should I give myself the Trouble to chuse other
Phrases that might not be so expressive? The Parts I recollect most frequently to have seen
Mr. Quin act are these:—Cato, Brutus, Dorax, Hector,
Thersites, Pinchwife, Maskwell, Æsop, K. Lear,
Mackbeth, Sir John Brute, K. Richard, Ballance,
Clause, Friar Dominic, Caled, Pierre, Volpone, Heartwell,
Horatio, Tamerlane, Bajazet, Zanga, and Sir
John Falstaff:—A goodly Company!—Now, tho' I
have heard some cavilling Criticks say, he shines not
in them all alike; yet, till his masterly Strokes are
equalled, even in those wherein he shines the least,
may one not call him Excellent? Or where shall
we find One living who, in such varied Lights, can so
justly claim Applause? In most of them, he steps far
beyond others; and, in some, may be said to excel
himself: To particularize many, were too tedious a
Work, and I have already run into a greater Length
than I at first intended, to the great Trial of my kind
Readers Patience, if he has prevailed on his Good-nature
to go so far with me. To make towards a Conclusion
therefore, I shall only mention the two Characters that
stand last in the List, viz. Zanga, and Sir John Falstaff* note. Had he never been seen in any others, they
alone would have justly intitled him to stand in the
Estimation of the Judicious, as a Tragedian and Comedian,
superior to Most, second to None. In this nonpareil Character of Sir John Falstaff, are
to be found all the Foibles and Vices in Nature; yet so
well disposed is the Groupe, none appear crouded or
forced in; they are so judiciously, so beautifully blended,
as to make one high-finished Piece.—Ye curious
Criticks and Connoisseurs, can you point out where
ought is wanting, or where any Part can be spared?
Though he is the most dissolute Debauchee that ever
was taken out of bad Company to be hang'd, or protected
by being frequently found in the Best, yet his
Wit and Humour so pleasantly ingratiate him into
your Favour, so slily insinuate in his Behalf, and
delightfully deceive your Good-nature, you can neither
detest or despise him; you have almost an
Affection for him: And he supports himself with
such droll Dignity, he, in some sort, claims your Respect.
With an uncommon Address, he rises superior
to all the Dejection, Despondency and Shame,
which any other less merry Mortal would feel after a
Disgraccia; and even Defeat he turns into a Triumph:
None, but the late grand Monarque, ever possessed
this happy Talent, in any Degree, to be compared to
him. He never lets himself down: His being a Knight,
and Man of Worship, is ever in Sight: And who,
but the Heir apparent, dare accost him with familiar
Epithets? Were jolly Sir John now living, and invited to regale
with a Set of Bons Vivans of the first Rank and
Figure, he'd not be placed at the Bottom of the Table;
nay, let him take his Seat where he would, that would
become the Head: And when the Company broke up
(which I presume might be at Day-break) I question
if they would not part from the jovial Knight with
more Regret than from one another; and at his Departure,
not one but would attend him to his Litter,
(I apprehend a portable Conveniency of less Dimensions
might incommode his Honour's Corpulency) each reminding
him not to forget the Day and Hour of their
next appointed Revel.—But now to leave the
Poet, and return to the Player. I have, in my time, seen many attempt the Part of
Falstaff; some bad enough; some worth remembring;
yet Mr. Quin is so far beyond the best of them, that
I shall not mention their Names, because the Comparison
could prove no Sort of Advantage to their Memory.
—Requiescant in pace.—Mr. Quin's Performance
shews he has studied this Character thoroughly; that
he has a true Taste of the Author; he seems to have
imbibed his Spirit; he indeed makes the Part his own.
I think I go not too far if I borrow another Passage
from the Account of Mr. Betterton.—The Application
will hardly appear unjust.—Speaking of Mr. Betterton
as a Player, and Shakespear as an Author, Mr. Cibber
says,—“The One was born alone to speak, what
the Other only knew to write!—From the Moment
Mr. Quin puts on the Dress, he becomes the Man himself;
his Mind is never dispossessed of him till the
Curtain drops: He looks, he speaks, he thinks the
Character. This is evident in his Eye, the Muscles
of his Face; and his whole Deportment:—He
maintains it throughout with a lively Comic Force,
and Flow of Spirit, temper'd with Judgment; a natural
Humour (scorning the low Aid of Farce) a
piercing and a waggish Eye, with a great Command
and Change of Countenance; a masterly Manner of
pausing (during which, tho' the Author is silent, the
Actor's Face and Gesture speak) nor does he want all
the necessary varied Tones of Voice, or any other requisite
to make it a finish'd Performance: He never
flags, but keeps up the Laugh to the End; and tho'
he omits not any of the Bye-Play, or Jeu de Theatre
of the Part, he never deviates into Buffoonery: But
all along preserves a Decency and Propriety. Then
let us say—(what I believe will hold good a long
Time,) His Falstaff seems inimitable yet. And now to pay my Respects to the Lady. Mrs.
Woffington has made surprising Advances towards Excellency,
in a very early Part of Life, when most are
but setting out; so she has Youth enough on her Side,
to allow Time for any Improvement had she but now
begun; for tho' (courteous Reader) you may remember
her near eight Years on the Stage, yet, add twenty
to them, you'll make up a Number beyond her Age.
She being not born (as I am well inform'd) 'till 1721.
She shews herself a Mistress in her Profession, by performing
a Variety of Characters, with equal Spirit and
Propriety;—she does not herself want Wit, and has
a thorough Relish of it, when she meets with it in any
Author; the Brilliancy of her Manner, in delivering
it, sufficiently shews it, and she is very capable of
doing Justice to Parts either of a gay or serious Turn
of Mind.—I know none since Mrs. Oldfield, who
have shewn themselves so equal to Characters of an elevated
Rank; she has a Grace in her Gesture, an
Ease in her Motion, very fitting the Deportment of
a Woman of Quality; nor is wanting in Beauty of
Countenance, a Harmony of Shape, commanding
Presence, and an Elegance of Person rising to that
Comliness of Stature, which supports the stately without
losing the lovely: She maintains the soft in the
superb.—It may not be amiss, also to observe, that
when she is obliged in a Part (which frequently happens)
to drop the Coiffure, and Robe of the Lady,
to assume the Breeches, and Chapeau bien troussée
of the Gallant, she still maintains her Excellence;
she becomes at once a pretty adroit Cavalier Youth,
of the first Quality; with an easy Address, a genteel
Gesture, and a polish'd spirited Air, becoming
the Behaviour of a gay young Gentleman, whose Vivacity
tempts him not to forget his good Breeding:
The best of our modern fine Gentlemen, on the Stage,
might profit by the Example. The Action and Elocution,
necessary to form the perfect Player, are not
to be attained to, without much Application and
Study; yet they should appear to be the Effect of
Chance alone: Herein consists the Skill of an artful
Actor. The Things, best done, in our Profession, appear
easiest when done.—She has acquir'd in all she
does such a happy Naiveté, you think her agreeable
by Accident; while she's increasing your Delight.
She does not appear conscious, that she charms: Her
Attitudes are quite picturesque, yet, by an easy
Transition from one to the other, and a proper Application
of them all, they seem to be the Work of
Nature only. She manages her Voice with great Skill, which has
not that Silver Tone some possess, who, notwithstanding
that natural Advantage, frequently offend your
Ear with uncouth Vulgarisms:—She never drops
that Delicacy that distinguishes the polish'd few, from
the unbred many; that marks the Disparity of Manners
between well-educated Persons of Distinction,
and the rude uncultivated Canaille: So prevalent is
the Force of Education (so arbitrary Custom) 'twill
have an Effect on People, when Nature is most unguarded,
and seems governed by Passion only. Education
forms the Mind,—the Mind directs the Voice,
and Motion;—and the Difference of Education will
frequently appear in the several Tones and Gestures
that are used, even in Characters made up of Affectations:
Some are indeed born Fools, and such are all
alike;—But the Fools, who make themselves vary
in their Manner, according to their different Schools
of Folly, tho' the Distinction may be somewhat too
nice for the Undiscerning, and Unread in Men and
Manners; yet he can hardly be allow'd an Actor of
great Skill, who, to the judicious few, at least, will not
shew a wide Difference of Behaviour between the forward
Fierté of a Brazen, and the smart lively, yet less
offensive, Pertness of a Clodio, or the brisk Frothiness
and Self-sufficiency, of that common-place Title-Page-Plagiary
Sir John Daw;—The solemn insipid Civility,
and Gentleness of a Sir Courtly, and the stately,
yet spirited Affectation of a high-bred Foppington;
who is so very near the real fine Gentleman, he may
pass for one, in many a well-dress'd Assembly.—
Yet these Characters are often mistaken by the Million
to be all of one Sort, and the Title of Fop, Fool,
or Coxcomb, indiscriminately bestow'd alike on them
all; as if they not at all varied from one another;
which, indeed, in the Representation, they often have
not.—But what Opinion must a Spectator, (of any
Taste) have of the Genius, or Judgment, of any
Actor who, in such Parts, shall absurdly make Use of
the loose-limb'd Carriage, the shuffling Step, and
shambling Gate of a wretched Wittol? or the disjointed
Deportment, and outré burlesque Behaviour of
a Buffoon, or Antick?—Yet these Errors have,
sometimes, been endured;—nay, in all Appearance,
approved, by those easy-pleased Gothic Plebeians,
who come to a Play meerly for their Twelvepenny-worth
of Fun; so their risible Muscles operate, they
never regard what sets them a tittering: To laugh is all
they seek,—and—“I'cod! they don't care what causes
it.”—But, Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est. Says Martial.
Need any one be vain of such Applause? This may seem a designed Digression, tho' I absolutely
fell casually into it; yet, should I give my solemn
serious Word, I had no Intention, here, to introduce
my inconsiderable Self; the candid Reader would
still be left at his Option to believe me: So I'll give
myself no farther trouble about it. It can't be deny'd,
but I have insinuated, I can a little judge how these
Parts ought to be play'd; yet none can say, I have presumed
to hint, how I act any of them: Therefore,
whether I think my own Performance good, bad, or
indifferent, the Decision is left at large to the superior
Judgment of the Town, who have the only Right to
determine. But to return to the Company of the Ladies.—Can
it be easily imagin'd any one should so grossly err, to
think the shrill vulgar Clamour, and boisterous Behaviour
of an outragious Termagant, or Flare-it,
will paint the Heart-felt raging Love, and impatient
Jealousy, of a more refin'd Love-it? Or,
that the ignorant pert Forwardness, and insipid
Vivacity of any Fille de Chambre would become
the elevated Spirit, and elegant Deportment, of
a Lady Townly, or Lady Betty Modish?—Or, can
any one suppose the sniveling Sobbings, and whindling
Gulpings, of a frippery Foible, or an antiquated
Abigail, would suit the tender Monimia, or the penitent
Jane Shore?—Yet such Things may have been.
—Should one venture to inform Mr. Jefferey Stage-play,
or Mrs. Deborah Drama, or any of the uncouth
Tramontanes of a Theatre, (whose rude indigested
Ideas, tho' very few, become a Chaos, cramped within
the Compass of their narrow Minds)—‘That all Persons
do not feel, or express their Feelings alike,’—They'd
reply,—truly, they did not know what you mean (and
truly I should be inclin'd to believe them)—that
they could feel Rage, Grief, Pleasure, Disappointment,
&c. as well as other Folk. But—How do they feel
them? Why—in their way.—How would they
express them? Why—as they felt them;—in
their way: Which, one may conclude, would be very
much out of the way. 'Tis the Business of the Player, to consider well the
various Circumstances, particular Stations of Life, the
several Complexions, Humours, Disposition of Mind,
and different Educations, of the Persons, they are to
represent; and these they must study thoroughly too,
ere they'll be able to suit themselves to the peculiar
Manner wherein each Character would express their
feeling of the same Passion. I observ'd before, Mrs. Woffington lately had given
a Proof her Excellencies were not confined to the
Comic Scene;—the Admiration she excited in, and
the Tears she drew from the Spectators, when she appeared
in the Character of Jane Shore, is fresh in their
Memory. What may not be expected from
such a Specimen of her Abilities, as a Tragedian?
As she is ever searching after Improvement,
and joins indefatigable Industry to her other Qualifications,
never regardless of a friendly Hint from any
one, nor vainly above Instruction; to which they, who
want it least, are generally most attentive,—while
the idle, the ignorant and self-sufficient usually reject
them, as an Insult, forsooth, on their No-Understanding.
As she has shewn she has a Heart susceptible
of the Passions;—a strong Conception, and is not
deficient in Taste and Genius, we may reasonably
conclude she will be an Ornament to the Tragic
Scene: Not limited to one Walk alone.—Her Mind
is not confin'd,—and, I believe, 'twill be allow'd.
neither her Face or Form would misbecome the Coquetry
of a Cleopatra, playing with the Passion of
an Antony,—or the dignified Grief of a Cornelia,
lamenting the Loss, and hanging o'er the Urn of
Pompey. And now (A-la-mode du Theatre) give me leave
to tag this Motley-Medley, with a few Rhimes; Et
donc—Messieurs, adieu! Jusqu' à l'Honeur de vous
Revoir.—
Theophilus Cibber, COMEDIAN. Written by Himself,
&lblank; Ridentem dicere verum
Quis vetat?
Hor.
In which is contained,
A PROLOGUE, an EPILOGUE, and a POEM,
Wrote on the Play of Romeo and Juliet being
first Revived in 1744;
Also some Addresses to the Publick, on different Occasions; LIKEWISE
Original LETTERS that passed between the late
Sir Thomas De Veil, and Mr. Theo. Cibber,
(Relating to the Stage-Act)
On a Stop being put to the Playing at the Hay-Market.
Interspersed with
Memoirs and Anecdotes concerning the STAGE.
Management and Theatrical Revolutions, in the
Years 1744, 1745, and 1746, &c.
AND
Cursory Observations on some Principal Performers:
Particularly
Mr. Quin, Mr. Ryan, Mr. Delane, Mrs. Woffington.
Mrs. Ward, and Miss Bellamy;
Mr. Garrick, Mr. Barry, Mrs. Cibber Mrs. Clive,
Mrs. Pritchard, and Others.
Each puny Critick can Objections raise;
The greatest Skill is knowing when to praise.
Buck.
Concluding with a Copy of Verses, called,
The Contrite Comedian's Confession.
In sese tentat descendere.
Pers.
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