University of Virginia Library

ADVERTISEMENT.

The present Age, though it has done Honour to its own Discernment by the Applauses paid to Shakespeare, has, at the same Time, too grossly neglected the other great Masters in the same School of Writing. The Pieces of Beaumont and Fletcher in particular, (to say nothing of Jonson, Massinger, Shirly, &c.) abound with Beauties, so much of the same Colour with those of Shakespeare, that it is almost unaccountable, that the very Age which admires one, even to Idolatry, should pay so little Attention to the others; and, while almost every Poet or Critick, at all eminent in the literary World, have been ambitious of distinguishing themselves, as Editors of Shakespeare, no more than two solitary Editions of Beaumont and Fletcher, and one of those of a very late Date, have been published in the present Century.

The Truth is, that Nature indeed is in all Ages the same; but Modes and Customs, Manners and Language, are subject to perpetual Variation. Time insensibly renders Writings obsolete and uncouth, and the gradual Introduction of new Words and Idioms brings the older Forms into Disrepute and Disuse. But the intrinsick Merit of any Work, though it may be obscured, must for ever remain: As antique Coins, or old Plate, though not current or fashionable, still have their Value, according to their Weight.

The Injuries of Modern Innovation in the State of Letters may be in a great Measure repaired, by rendering the Writings of our old Authors familiar to the Publick, and bringing them often before them. How many Plays are there of Shakespeare, now in constant Acting, of which the Directors of the Theatres would scarce hazard the Representation, if the long-continued, and, as it were, traditional Approbation of the Publick had not given a Sanction to their Irregularities, and familiarized the Diction. The Language even of our Liturgy and Bible, if we may venture to mention them on this Occasion, would perhaps soon become obsolete and unintelligible to the Generality, if they were not constantly read in our Churches. The Stile of our Authors, especially in this Play, is often remarkably plain and simple, and only raised or enriched by the Sentiments. It is the Opinion of Dryden, that even “Shakespeare's Language is a little obsolete in Comparison of theirs; and that the English Language in them arrived to its highest Perfection; what Words have since been taken in, being rather superfluous, than necessary.”

Philaster has always been esteemed one of the best Productions of Beaumont and Fletcher; and, we are told by Dryden, was the

first Play that brought them into great Reputation. The Beauties of it are indeed so striking and so various, that our Authors might in this Play almost be said to rival Shakespeare, were it not for the many evident Marks of Imitation of his Manner. The late Editors of Beaumont and Fletcher conceive, that the Poets meant to delineate, in the Character of Philaster, a Hamlet racked with the Jealousy of Othello; and there are several Passages, in this Play, where the Authors have manifestly taken Fire from similar Circumstances and Expressions in Shakespeare, particularly some, that will readily occur to the Reader as he goes along, from Othello, Hamlet, Cymbeline, and Lear.

To remove the Objections to the Performance of this excellent Play on the Modern Stage, has been the chief Labour, and sole Ambition, of the present Editor. It may be remembered, that The Spanish Curate, The Little French Lawyer, and Scornfull Lady of our Authors, as well as The Silent Woman of Jonson, all favourite Entertainments of our Predecessors, have, within these few Years, encountered the Severity of the Pit, and received Sentence of Condemnation. That the uncommon Merit of such a Play as Philaster might be universally acknowledged and received, it appeared necessary to clear it of Ribaldry and Obscenity, and to amend a gross Indecency in the original Constitution of the Fable, which must have checked the Success due to the rest of the Piece, nay, indeed, was an insuperable Obstacle to its Representation.

But though the Inaccuracies and Licentiousness of the Piece were Inducements (according to the incudi reddere of Horace) to put it on the Anvil again, yet nothing has been added more than was absolutely necessary, to make it move easily on the new Hinge, whereon it now turns: Nor has any thing been omitted, except what was supposed to have been likely to obscure its Merit, or injure its Success. The Pen was drawn, without the least Hesitation, over every Scene now expunged, except the first Scene of the third Act, as it stands in the Original; in regard to which, the Part, that Philaster sustains in it, occasioned some Pause: But, on Examination, it seemed that Dion's Falsification of Facts in that Scene was inconsistent with the rest of his Character, though very natural in such a Person as Megra: And though we have in our Times seen the sudden and instantaneous Transitions from one Passion to another remarkably well represented on the Stage, yet Philaster's Emotions appeared impossible to be exhibited with any Conformity to Truth or Nature. It was therefore thought advisable to omit the whole Scene; and it is hoped, that this Omission will not be disapproved, and that it will not appear to have left any Void or Chasm in the Action; since the imputed Falsehood of Arethusa, after being so industriously made publick to the whole Court, might very naturally be imagined to come to the Knowledge of Philaster in a much shorter Interval, than is often supposed to

elapse between the Acts; or even between the Scenes of some of our old Plays.

The Scenes in the Fourth Act, wherein Philaster, according to the original Play, wounds Arethusa and Bellario, and from which the Piece took its second Title of Love lies a Bleeding, have always been censured by the Criticks. They breathe too much of that Spirit of Blood, and Cruelty, and Horror, of which the English Tragedy hath often been accused. The Hero's wounding his Mistress hurt the Delicacy of most; and his maiming Bellario sleeping, in order to save himself from his Pursuers, offended the Generosity of all. This Part of the Fable, therefore, so injurious to the Character of Philaster, it was judged absolutely requisite to alter; and a new Turn has been given to all those Circumstances: But the Change has been effected by such simple Means, and with so much Reverence to the Original, that there are hardly ten Lines added on Account of the Alteration.

The rest of the Additions or Alterations may be seen at once by comparing the present Play with the Original; if the Reader does not, on such Occasions, of himself too easily discover the Patchwork of a Modern Hand.

There is extant in the Works of the Duke of Buckingham, who wrote The Rehearsal, and altered The Chances, an Alteration of this Play, under the Title of The Restoration, or Right will take Place. The Duke seems to have been very studious to disguise the Piece, the Names of the Dramatis Personæ, as well as the Title, being entirely changed; and the whole Piece, together with the Prologue and Epilogue, seeming intended to carry the Air of an oblique political Satire on his own Times. However that may be, the Duke's Play is as little (if not less) calculated for the present Stage, as the Original of our Authors. The Character of Thrasomond (for so the Duke calls the Spanish Prince) is much more ludicrous than the Pharamond of Beaumont and Fletcher. Few of the Indecencies or Obscenities in the Original are removed; and with what Delicacy the Adventure of Megra is managed, may be determined from the following Specimen of his Grace's Alteration of that Circumstance, not a Word of the following Extract being to be found in Beaumont and Fletcher.

Enter the Guard, bringing in Thrasomond, in Drawers, muffled up in a Cloak.
Sir, in Obedience to your Commands,
We stopt this Fellow stealing out of Doors.
[They pull off his Cloak.
Who's this, the Prince?
Yes; he is incognito.
Sir, I must chide you for this Looseness:
You've wrong'd a worthy Lady; but no more.
Sir, I came hither but to take the Air.
A witty Rogue, I warrant him.
Ay, he's a Devil at his Answers.
Conduct him to his Lodgings.

If to move the Passions of Pity and Terror are the two chief Ends of Tragedy, there needs no Apology for giving that Title to the Play of Philaster. If Lear, Hamlet, Othello, &c. &c. notwithstanding the casual Introduction of comick Circumstances in the natural Course of the Action, are Tragedies; Philaster is so too. The Duke of Buckingham entitles his Alteration a Tragi-Comedy; but that Word, according to its present Acceptation, conveys the Idea of a very different Species of Composition; a Play, like The Spanish Friar, or Oroonoko, in which two distinct Actions, one serious and the other comick, are unnaturally woven together; as absurd a Medley (in the Opinion of Addison) as if an Epick Writer was to undertake to throw into one Poem the Adventures of Æneas and Hudibras.

As to the Form in which the Piece is now submitted to the Publick, some, perhaps, will think that the Editor has taken too many Liberties with the Original, and many may censure him for not having made a more thorough Alteration. There are, it must be confessed, many Things still left in the Play, which may be thought to lower the Dignity of Tragedy, and which would not be admitted in a Fable of modern Construction: But where such Things were in Nature, and inoffensive, and served at the same Time as so many Links in the Chain of Circumstances, that compose the Action, it was thought better to subdue in some Measure the Intemperance of the Scenes of low Humour, than wholly to reject or omit them. It would not have been in the Power, nor indeed was it ever in the Intention or Desire, of the Editor, to give Philaster the Air of a modern Performance; no more than an Architect of this Age would endeavour to embellish the Magnificence of a Gothick Building with the Ornaments of the Greek or Roman Orders. It is impossible for the severest Reader to have a meaner Opinion of the Editor's Share in the Work than he entertains of it himself. Something, however, was necessary to be done; and the Reasons, for what he has done, have already been assigned; nor can he repent of the Trouble he has taken, at the Instance of a Friend, whom he is happy to oblige, when he sees himself the Instrument of restoring Philaster to the Theatre, of displaying new Graces in Mrs. Yates, and of calling forth the extraordinary Powers of so promising a Genius for the Stage as Mr. Powell.