Act 5 — THE FIRST SCENE IS THE CITY OF SEVILLE.
Reading edition
The Prologue enters with a play-bill in his hand, and reads—This day, being the 15th of December, shall be acted a new play, never play'd before, call'd The Adventures of Five Hours.
A NEW PLAY.
Th' are i' the right, for I dare boldly say, The English stage ne'er had so new a play; The dress, the author, and the scenes are new. This ye have seen before ye'll say; 'tis true; But tell me, gentlemen, who ever saw A deep intrigue confin'd to five hours' law? Such as for close contrivance yields to none: A modest man may praise what's not his own. 'Tis true, the dress is his, which he submits To those who are, and those who would be wits; Ne'er spare him, gentlemen; for to speak truth, He has a per'lous cens'rer been in's youth; And now grown bald with age, doating on praise, He thinks to get a periwig of bays. Teach him what 'tis, in this discerning age, To bring his heavy genius on the stage; Where you have seen such nimble wits appear, That pass'd so soon, one scarce could say th'were here. Yet, after our discoveries of late Of their designs, who would subvert the state, You'll wonder much, if it should prove his lot To take all England with a Spanish plot; But if, through his ill conduct or hard fate, This foreign plot (like that of eighty-eight) Should suffer shipwreck in your narrow seas, You'll give your modern poet his writ of ease; For, by th' example of the King of Spain, He resolves ne'er to trouble you again.
THE PROLOGUE AT COURT. HE ADDRESSES HIMSELF TO THE PIT.
This refers to the author's purpose of retirement, at that time when his Majesty recommended this plot to him. As to a dying lamp one drop of oil Gives a new blaze, and makes it live awhile; So th' author, seeing his decaying light, And therefore thinking to retire from sight, Was hindered by a ray from the upper sphere, Just at that time he thought to disappear. He chanced to hear his Majesty once say, He lik'd this plot; he stay'd, and writ the play: So should obsequious subjects catch the minds Of princes, as your seamen do the winds. If this attempt then shows more zeal than light, 'T may teach you to obey, though not to write. He looking up, and seeing the King, starts. He kneels. He rises. Ah! he is there himself. Pardon my sight, My eyes were dazzled with excess of light; Even so the sun, who all things else displays, Is hid from us i' the glory of his rays. Will you vouchsafe your presence? You, that were given To be our Atlas, and support our heaven? Will you, dread sir, your precious moments lose To grace the first endeavours of our muse? This with your character most aptly suits, Even heaven itself is pleas'd with the first-fruits.
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
Having been desired by a lady, who has more than ordinary favour for this play, though in other things very judicious, to make a song, and insert it in that scene where you may now read it, I found it more difficult to disobey the commands of this excellent person, than to obtain of myself to write any more upon subjects of this nature.
This occasioned the revising of this piece, upon which I had not cast my eyes since it was first printed; and finding there some very obvious faults (with respect to their judgments who have been pleased to applaud it), I could not well imagine how they came to escape my last hand; unless poetic rage, or (in a more humble phrase) heat of fancy, will not at the same time admit the calm temper of judgment; or that, being importuned by those for whose benefit this play was intended, I was even forced to expose it before it was fit to be seen in such good company.
This refers only to the dress, for certainly the plot needs no apology; it was taken out of Don Pedro Calderon,[37] a celebrated Spanish author, the nation of the world who are the happiest in the force and delicacy of their inventions, and recommended to me by his sacred majesty as an excellent design, whose judgment is no more to be doubted than his commands to be disobeyed. And therefore it might be a great presumption in me to enter my sentiments with his royal suffrage; but as secretaries of state subscribe their names to the mandates of their prince, so at the bottom of the leaf I take the boldness to sign my opinion, that this is incomparably the best plot that I ever met with. And yet, if I may be allowed to do myself justice, I might acquaint the readers that there are several alterations in the copy which do not disgrace the original.
I confess, 'tis something new that trifles of this nature should have a second edition; but if in truth this essay be at present more correct, I have then found an easy way to gratify their civility who have been pleased to indulge the errors in the former impressions.
If they who have formerly seen or read this play should not perceive the amendments, then I have touched the point, since the chiefest art in writing is the concealing of art; and they who discover 'em, and are pleased with them, are indebted only to themselves for their new satisfaction, since their former favour to our negligent Muses has occasioned their appearing again in a more studied dress; and certainly those labours are not ungrateful with which the writers and readers are both pleased.
And since I am upon the subject of novelties, I take the boldness to advertise the reader that, though it be unusual, I have in a distinct column prefixed the several characters of the most eminent persons in the play, that, being acquainted with them at his first setting out, he may the better judge how they are carried on in the whole composition. For, plays being moral pictures, their chiefest perfections consist in the force and congruity of passions and humours, which are the features and complexion of our minds; and I cannot choose but hope that he will approve the ingenuity of this design, though possibly he may dislike the painting.
As for those who have been so angry with this innocent piece, not guilty of so much as that current wit—obscenity and profaneness—these are to let them know that, though the author converses with but few, he writes to all; and aiming as well at the delight as profit of his readers, if there be any amongst them who are pleased to enter their haggard muses at so mean a quarry, they may freely use their poetic licence, for he pretends not to any royalty on the mount of Parnassus; and I dare answer for him, that he will sing no more till he comes into that choir where there is room enough for all; and such, he presumes, is the good-breeding of these critics, that they will not be so unmannerly as to crowd him there.
Farewell.
FOOTNOTES:
PROLOGUE. SPOKEN BY MR BETTERTON.[38]
If we could hit on't, gallants, there are due Certain respects from writers and from you: Which, well observ'd, would celebrate this age, And both support and vindicate the stage. If there were only candour on your part, And on the poets', judgment, fancy, art; If they remember that their audience Are persons of the most exalted sense; And you consider well the just respect Due to their poems, when they are correct; Our two houses then may have the fate To help to form the manners of the state: For there are crimes arraign'd a' th' poets' bar, Which cannot be redress'd at Westminster. Our ancient bards their morals did dispense In numbers, to insinuate the sense, Knowing that harmony affects the soul, And who our passions charm, our wills control. This our well-meaning author had in view, And, though but faintly executed, you Indulg'd th' attempt with such benevolence, That he has been uneasy ever since; For though his vanity you gratified, The obligation did provoke his pride. But he has now compounded with ambition For that more solid greatness, self-fruition; And, going to embrace a civil death, He's loth to die indebted to your breath. Therefore he would be even w' you, but wants force; The stream will rise no higher than the source. And they, who treat such judges, should excel; Here 'tis to do ill, to do only well. He has, as other writers have, good-will, And only wants (like those) nature and skill; But, since he cannot reach the envied height, H' has cast some grains in this to mend the weight; And, being to part w' you, prays you to accept This revived piece as legacy or debt.
FOOTNOTES:
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
PERSONS. RELATIONS. CHARACTERS.
Don Henrique, In love with Camilla,but rejected. Choleric, jealous, revengeful.
Don Carlos, Near kinsman to DonHenrique. A well-natured, moral gentleman.
Don Octavio, In love with Porcia, but feigning to bein love with Camilla. A valiant and accomplished cavalier.
Don Antonio, Contracted to Porcia by proxy, before he saw her. A soldier, haughty, and of exact honour.
Porcia, Sister to Don Henrique. Ingenious, constant, and severely virtuous.
Camilla, Sister to Don Carlos. Susceptible of love, but cautious of her honour.
Diego, Servant to Octavio, bred a scholar. A great coward, and a pleasant droll.
Flora, Waiting-woman to Porcia. Witty, contriving, and faithful to her mistress.
Ernesto, Servants to Don Antonio.
Sancho,
Silvio, Servants to Don Henrique.
Geraldo,
Pedro,
Bernardino,
Jago,
The Corregidor and Attendants.[39]
The Scene, Seville.
THE ADVENTURES OF FIVE HOURS.[40]