THE LADIES' FRIENDSHIP.
Reading edition
"Hæc nôsse salus est adolescentulis."[38]—Tertullian.
The Lying Lover: or the Ladies' Friendship, a Comedy, was acted at Drury Lane Theatre on December 2, 1703, and ran for six nights. It was published by Bernard Lintot on January 26, 1704. Wilks (Bookwit, jun.), Mills (Lovemore), Cibber (Latine), Pinkethman (Storm), and Bullock (Charcoal), together with Mrs. Oldfield (Victoria), and Mrs. Rogers (Penelope), acted in this piece, which, so far as is known, has been revived only once (April 4, 1746) since it was originally produced. The plot was taken from Le Menteur, by Corneille, who had borrowed from Ruiz de Alarcon's Verdad Sospechosa. Steele is, of course, solely responsible for the scenes in Newgate towards the end of the piece. Samuel Foote afterwards made much use of Steele's play in his Liar.
To His Grace the
DUKE OF ORMOND.[39]
My Lord,
Out of gratitude to the memorable and illustrious patron of my infancy,[40] your Grace's grandfather, I presume to lay this Comedy at your feet. The design of it is to banish out of conversation all entertainment which does not proceed from simplicity of mind, good-nature, friendship, and honour. Such a purpose will not, I hope, be unacceptable to so great a lover of mankind as your Grace; and if your patronage can recommend it to all who love and honour the Duke of Ormond, its reception will be as extensive as the world itself.
'Twas the irresistible force of this humanity in your temper that has carried you through the various successes of war, with the peculiar and undisputed distinction that you have drawn your sword without other motive than a passionate regard for the glory of your country; since before you entered into its service, you were possessed of its highest honours, but could not be contented with the illustrious rank your birth gave you, without repeating the glorious actions by which it was acquired.
But there cannot be less expected from the son of an Ossory, than to contemn life, to adorn it, and with munificence, affability, scorn of gain, and passion for glory, to be the honour and example to the profession of arms; all which engaging qualities your noble family has exerted with so steadfast a loyalty, that in the most adverse fortune of our monarchy, popularity, which in others had been invidious, was a security to the Crown, when lodged in the House of Ormond.
Thus your Grace entered into the business of the world with so great an expectation, that it seemed impossible there could be anything left which might still conduce to the honour of your name. But the most memorable advantage your country has gained this century was obtained under your command; and Providence thought fit to give the wealth of the Indies into his hands, who only could despise it; while, with a superior generosity, he knows no reward but in opportunities of bestowing. The great personage whom you succeed in your honours, made me feel, before I was sensible of the benefit, that this glorious bent of mind is hereditary to you. I hope, therefore, you will pardon me, that I take the liberty of expressing my veneration for his remains, by assuring your Grace that I am,
My Lord,
Your Grace's most obedient
And most devoted
Humble Servant,
Richard Steele.
THE PREFACE.
Though it ought to be the care of all Governments that public representations should have nothing in them but what is agreeable to the manners, laws, religion, and policy of the place or nation in which they are exhibited; yet is it the general complaint of the more learned and virtuous amongst us, that the English stage has extremely offended in this kind. I thought, therefore, it would be an honest ambition to attempt a Comedy which might be no improper entertainment in a Christian commonwealth.
In order to this, the spark of this play is introduced with as much agility and life as he brought with him from France, and as much humour as I could bestow upon him in England. But he uses the advantages of a learned education, a ready fancy, and a liberal fortune, without the circumspection and good sense which should always attend the pleasures of a gentleman; that is to say, a reasonable creature.
Thus he makes false love, gets drunk, and kills his man; but in the fifth Act awakes from his debauch, with the compunction and remorse which is suitable to a man's finding himself in a gaol for the death of his friend, without his knowing why.
The anguish he there expresses, and the mutual sorrow between an only child and a tender father in that distress, are, perhaps, an injury to the rules of comedy, but I am sure they are a justice to those of morality. And passages of such a nature being so frequently applauded on the stage, it is high time that we should no longer draw occasions of mirth from those images which the religion of our country tells us we ought to tremble at with horror.
But her Most Excellent Majesty has taken the stage into her consideration;[41] and we may hope, by her gracious influence on the Muses, wit will recover from its apostasy; and that, by being encouraged in the interests of virtue, it will strip vice of the gay habit in which it has too long appeared, and clothe it in its native dress of shame, contempt, and dishonour.
PROLOGUE.
All the commanding powers that awe mankind Are in a trembling poet's audience joined, Where such bright galaxies of beauty sit, And at their feet assembled men of wit: Our author, therefore, owns his deep despair To entertain the learned or the fair; Yet hopes that both will so much be his friends, To pardon what he does, for what he intends; He aims to make the coming action move On the dread laws of friendship and of love; Sure then he'll find but very few severe, Since there's of both so many objects here. He offers no gross vices to your sight, Those too much horror raise for just delight; And to detain the attentive knowing ear, Pleasure must still have something that's severe.[42] If then you find our author treads the stage With just regard to a reforming age; He hopes, he humbly hopes, you'll think there's due Mercy to him, for justice done to you.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Old Bookwit.
Young Bookwit, the "Lying Lover."
Lovemore, in love with Penelope.
Frederick, Friend to Lovemore.
Latine, Friend to Young Bookwit.
Storm, a Highwayman.
Charcoal, an Alchemist and Coiner.
Simon, Servant to Penelope.
Penelope.
Victoria, Friend to Penelope.
Betty, Victoria's Woman.
Lettice, Penelope's Woman.
Constables, Watch, Turnkey, Cookmaid, and several Gaol-birds.
SCENE—London.