Act 4 — THE Provok'd Husband; OR, A Journey to London. A COMEDY.
Reading edition
Written by
Sir John Vanbrugh, and Mr. Cibber.
----Vivit Tanquam Vicina Mariti. Juv. Sat. VI.
TO THE QUEEN.
May it please your Majesty,
The English Theatre throws itself with this Play, at Your MAJESTY's Feet, for Favour and Support.
As their Public Diversions are a strong Indication of the Genius of a People; the following Scenes are an Attempt to Establish such as are fit to entertain the Minds of a sensible Nation; and to wipe off that Aspersion of Barbarity, which the Virtuosi among our Neighbours have sometimes thrown upon our Taste.
The Provok'd Husband, is, at least, an Instance, that any English Comedy may, to an unusual number of Days, bring many Thousands of His Majesty's good Subjects together, to their Emolument and Delight, with Innocence. And however little Share of that Merit my unequal Pen may pretend to, yet I hope the just Admirers of Sir John Vanbrugh will allow I have, at worst, been a careful Guardian of his Orphan Muse, by leading it into Your Majesty's Royal Protection.
The Design of this Play being chiefly to expose, and reform the licentious Irregularities that, too often, break in upon the Peace and Happiness of the Married State; Where could so hazardous and unpopular an undertaking be secure, but in the Protection of a Princess, whose exemplary Conjugal Virtues have given such illustrious Proof of what sublime Felicity that holy State is capable?
And though a Crown is no certain Title to Content; yet to the Honour of that Institution be it said, the Royal Harmony of Hearts that now inchants us from the Throne, is a Reproach to the frequent Disquiet of those many insensible Subjects about it, who (from his Majesty's paternal Care of his People) have more Leisure to be happy: And 'tis our Queen's peculiar Glory, that we often see Her as eminently rais'd above her Circle, in private Happiness, as in Dignity.
Yet Heaven, Madam, that has placed you on such Height, to be the more conspicuous Pattern of your Sex, had still left your Happiness imperfect, had it not given those inestimable Treasures of your Mind, and Person, to the only Prince on Earth that could have deserved them: A Crown received from Any, but the Happy Monarch's Hand, who invested you with This, which You now adorn, had only seemed the Work of Fortune: But Thus bestow'd, the World acknowledges it the due Reward of Providence, for One You once so gloriously Refused.
But as the Fame of such elevated Virtue has lifted the Plain Addresses of a whole Nation into Eloquence, the best repeated Eulogiums on that Theme are but Intrusions on your Majesty's greater Pleasure of secretly deserving them. I therefore beg leave, to subscribe myself,
May it please Your Majesty,
Your Majesty's most Devoted,
Most Obedient, and Most Humble Servant,
Colley Cibber.
TO THE READER.
Having taken upon me in the prologue to this play, to give the auditors some short account of that part of it which Sir John Vanbrugh left unfinished, and not thinking it adviseable in that place, to limit their judgment by so high a commendation as I thought it deserved; I have therefore, for the satisfaction of the curious, printed the whole of what he wrote, separately, under the single title he gave it of A Journey to London, without presuming to alter a line.
Yet when I own, that in my last conversation with him, (which chiefly turned upon what he had done towards a comedy) he excused his not shewing it me, 'till he had reviewd it, confessing the scenes were yet undigested, too long, and irregular, particularly in the lower characters, I have but one excuse for publishing what he never designed should come into the world, as it then was, viz. I had no other way of taking those many faults to myself, which may be justly found in my presuming to finish it.
However, a judicious reader will find in his original papers, that the characters are strongly drawn, new, spirited, and natural, taken from sensible observations on high and lower life, and from a just indignation at the follies in fashion. All I could gather from him of what he intended in the catastrophe, was, that the conduct of his imaginary fine lady had so provoked him, that he designed actually to have made her husband turn her out of his doors. But when his performance came, after his decease, to my hands, I thought such violent measures, however just they might be in real life, were too severe for comedy, and would want the proper surprise, which is due to the end of a play. Therefore with much ado (and 'twas as much as I could do with probability) I preserved the lady's chastity, that the sense of her errors might make a reconciliation not impracticable; and I hope the mitigation of her sentence has been since justified by its success.
My inclination to preserve as much as possible of Sir John, I soon saw had drawn the whole into an unusual length; the reader will therefore find here a scene or two of the lower humour that were left out, after the first day's presentation.
The favour the town has shewn to the higher characters in this play, is a proof, that their taste is not wholly vitiated, by the barbarous entertainments that have been so expensively set off to corrupt it: but, while the repetition of the best old plays is apt to give satiety, and good new ones are so scarce a commodity, we must not wonder, that the poor actors are sometimes forced to trade in trash for a livelihood.
I cannot yet take leave of the reader, without endeavouring to do justice to those principal actors, who have so evidently contributed to the support of this comedy: And I wish I could separate the praises due to them from the secret vanity of an author: For all I can say will still insinuate, that they could not have so highly excelled, unless the skill of the writer had given them proper occasion. However, as I had rather appear vain, than unthankful, I will venture to say of Mr. Wilks, that in the last act, I never saw any passion take so natural a possession of an actor, or any actor take so tender a possession of his auditors——Mr. Mills too, is confess'd by every body, to have surprised them, by so far excelling himself——But there is no doing right to Mrs. Oldfield, without putting people in mind of what others, of great merit, have wanted to come near her——'Tis not enough to say, she Here Out-did her usual Excellence. I might therefore justly leave her to the constant admiration of those spectators, who have the pleasure of living while she is an actress. But as this is not the only time she has been the life of what I have given the public, so perhaps my saying a little more of so memorable an actress, may give this play a chance to be read, when the people of this age shall be ancestors——May it therefore give emulation to our successors of the stage, to know, That to the ending of the year 1727, a cotemporary comedian relates, that Mrs. Oldfield was, then, in her highest excellence of action, happy in all the rearly-found requisites, that meet in one person to complete them for the stage——She was in stature just rising to that height, where the graceful can only begin to shew itself; of a lively aspect and a command in her mein, that like the principal figure in the finest paintings, first seizes, and longest delights the eye of the spectators. Her voice was sweet, strong, piercing, and melodious: her pronunciation voluble, distinct, and musical; and her emphasis always placed where the spirit of the sense, in her periods, only demanded it. If she delighted more in the Higher Comic, than in the Tragic strain, 'twas because the last is too often written in a lofty disregard of nature. But in characters of modern practised life, she found occasions to add the particular air and manner which distinguished the different humours she presented. Whereas in tragedy, the manner of speaking varies, as little as the blank verse it is written in——She had one peculiar happiness from nature, she looked and maintained the agreeable, at a time when other fine women only raise admirers by their understanding——The spectator was always as much informed by her eyes as her elocution; for the look is the only proof that an actor rightly conceives what he utters, there being scare an instance, where the eyes do their part, that the elocution is known to be faulty. The qualities she had acquired were the genteel and elegant. The one in her air, and the other in her dress, never had her equal on the stage; and the ornaments she herself provided, (particularly in this play) seemed in all respects the paraphernalia of a woman of quality. And of that sort were the characters she chiefly excelled in; but her natural good sense and lively turn of conversation made her way so easy to ladies of the highest rank, that it is a less wonder, if on the stage she sometimes was, what might have become the finest woman in real life to have supported.
Theatre-Royal. Jan. 27, 172⅞
C. CIBBER.
PROLOGUE,
Spoken by Mr. Wilks.
This play took birth from principles of truth, To make amends for errors past, of youth. A bard, that's now no more, in riper days, Conscious review'd the licence of his plays: And tho' applause his wanton muse had fir'd, Himself condemn'd what sensual minds admir'd. At length, he own'd, that plays should let you see Not only, What you are, but ought to be; Though vice was natural, 'twas never meant The stage should shew it, but for punishment! Warm with that thought, his Muse once more took flame, Resolv'd to bring licentious life to shame. Such was the piece his latest pen design'd, But left no traces of his plan behind. Luxuriant scenes unprun'd or half contriv'd; Yet thro' the mass his native fire surviv'd: Rough, as rich ore, in mines the treasure lay, Yet still 'twas rich, and forms at length a play. In which the bold compiler boasts no merit, But that his pains have sav'd your scenes of spirit. Not scenes that would a noisy joy impart, But such as hush the mind and warm the heart. From praise of hands no sure account he draws, But fixt attention is sincere applause: If then (for hard you'll own the task) his art Can to those embryon-scenes new life impart, The living proudly would exclude his lays, And to the buried bard resign the praise.
Dramatis Personæ.
MEN.
Lord Townly, of a regular life, Mr. Wilks.
Mr. Manly, an admirer of Lady Grace, Mr. Mills sen.
Sir Francis Wronghead, a country gentleman, Mr. Cibber, sen.
Squire Richard, his son, a mere whelp, Young Wetherelt.
Count Basset, a gamester, Mr. Bridgewater.
John Moody, servant to Sir Francis, an honest clown, Mr. Miller.
WOMEN.
Lady Townly, immoderate in her pursuit of pleasures, Mrs. Oldfield.
Lady Grace, sister to Lady Townly, of exemplary virtue, Mrs. Porter.
Lady Wronghead, wife to Sir Francis, inclin'd to be a fine lady, Mrs. Thurmond.
Miss Jenny, her daughter, pert and forward, Mrs. Cibber.
Mrs Motherly, one that lets lodgings, Mrs. Moore.
Myrtilla, her niece, seduced by the count, Mrs. Grace.
Mrs. Trusty, Lady Townly's woman, Mrs. Mills.
Masqueraders, Constable, Servants, &c.
The SCENE Lord Townly's House, and sometimes Sir Francis's Lodgings.
THE Provok'd Husband; OR, A Journey to London.