University of Virginia Library

POSTSCRIPT.

Though the Fatal Curiosity of Lillo has received the applause of many sound critics, and been accounted worthy of the Græcian stage, and (what is, perhaps, still higher merit) worthy of Skakespeare! yet the long exclusion of this drama from the theatre had in some measure obscured the fame of a tragedy, whose uncommon excellence challenged more celebrity. The late Mr. Harris, of Salisbury, has endeavoured, in his Philological Inquiries, to display the beauties, the terrible graces, of the piece, and to do justice to the memory of Lillo. His comment is in general just; yet he seems to have given a sketch of the Fable from an imperfect recollection of the circumstances, without the book before him. He appears to have conceived that the tragedy derived its title from the curiosity of Agnes to know the contents of the casket: but that Lillo meant to mark by the title the Fatal Curiosity of Young Wilmot, is evident from the whole scene between him and Randal, wherein he arranges the plan of his intended interview with his parents; which arrangement Mr. Harris erroneously attributes to his conference with Charlot. The principle of Curiosity is openly avowed and warmly sustained by Young Wilmot, and humbly reprehended by Randal.

The comment of Mr. Harris is, however, on the whole, most judicious and liberal. It concludes with a note in these words:

“If any one read this tragedy, the author of these Inquiries has a request or two to make, for which he hopes a candid reader will forgive him—One is, not to cavil at minute inaccuracies, but look to the superior merit of the whole taken together—Another is, totally to expunge those wretched rhimes, which conclude many of the scenes; and which, 'tis probable, are not from Lillo, but from some other hand, willing to conform to an absurd fashion, then practised, but now laid aside, the fashion (I mean) of a rhiming conclusion.”

Philological Inquiries, vol. i. p. 174.

The present Editor thought it his duty to remove, as far as he was able, the blemishes here noticed by Mr. Harris; and he therefore expunged the rhiming conclusions of acts and scenes, except in one instance, where he thought the couplet too beautiful to be displaced. Some minute inaccuracies of language he also hazarded an attempt to correct; and even in some measure to mitigate the horror of the catastrophe, by the omission of some expressions rather too savage, and by one or two touches of remorse and tenderness. Agnes is most happily drawn after Lady Macbeth; in whose character there is not perhaps a finer trait, than her saying, during the murder of Duncan,

“Had he not resembled
“My father as he slept, I had don't!”

The story, on which this tragedy is founded is, I believe, at present no where extant, except in a folio volume, printed in the year 1681, and entitled The Annals of King James and King Charles the First. Both of happy memory. The period included in these Annals is from the Tenth of James, to the Eighteenth of Charles. They are published anonymously, yet are generally known by the name of Frankland's Annals. The author places this tragical event in the Annals of the year 1618, and relates it in these words:

“The miserable condition of sinful man in sundry examples of these present and of former times, should mind us hourly to beg of God preventing grace, lest we fall into temptations of sin and Satan; such have been the calamities of ages past, at present are, and will be to come; histories of theft, rapine, murther, and such like.

“One of wondrous note happened at Perinin in Cornwall, in September, a bloody and unexampled murther, by a father and mother upon their own son, and then upon themselves.

“He had been blessed with ample possessions, and fruitful issue, unhappy only in a younger son; who taking liberty from his father's bounty, and with a crew of like condition, that were wearied on land, they went roving to sea; and in a small vessel southward, took booty, from all whom they could master, and so increasing force and wealth, ventured on a Turks-man in the Streights; but by mischance their own powder fired themselves; and our gallant, trusting to his skilful swimming,

got ashore upon Rhodes, with the best of his jewels about him, where offering some to sale to a Jew, who knew them to be the governor's of Algier, he was apprehended, and as a pyrate sentenced to the gallies amongst other christians, whose miserable slavery made them all studious of freedom; and with wit and valour took opportunity and means to murther some officers, got aboard of an English ship, and came safe to London, where his Majesty and some skill made him servant to a chyrurgion, and sudden preferment to the East Indies; there by this means he got mony, with which returning back, he designed himself for his native county Cornwall; and in a small ship from London, sailing to the West, was cast away upon the coast; but his excellent skill in swimming, and former fate toboot, brought him safe to shore; where since his fifteen years absence, his father's former fortunes much decayed, now retired him not far off to a country habitation, in debt and danger.

“His sister, he finds married to a mercer, a meaner match than her birth promised; to her at first appears a poor stranger, but in private reveals himself, and withal what jewels and gold he had concealed in a bow-case about him; and concluded that the next day he intended to appear to his parents, and to keep his disguise till she and her husband should meet, and make their common joy compleat.

“Being come to his parents, his humble behaviour, suitable to his suit of cloaths, melted the old couple to so much compassion, as to give him covering from the cold season under

their outward roof; and by degrees his travelling tales told with passion to the aged people, made him their guest, so long by the kitchen fire, that the husband took leave and went to bed, and soon after his true stories working compassion in the weaker vessel, she wept, and so did he; but compassionate of her tears, he comforted her with a piece of gold, which gave assurance that he deserved a lodging, to which she brought him, and being in bed shewed her his girdled wealth, which he said was sufficient to relieve her husband's wants, to spare for himself; and being very weary, fell fast asleep.

“The wife tempted with the golden bait of what she had, and eager of enjoying all, awaked her husband with this news, and her contrivance what to do; and though with horrid apprehension he oft refused, yet her puling fondness (Eve's inchantments) moved him to consent, and rise to be master of all; and both of them to murder the man, which instantly they did, covering the corps under the cloaths till opportunity to convey it out of the way.

“The early morning hastens the sister to her father's house, where she with signs of joy, enquires for a saylor that should lodge there the last night; the parents slightly denied to have seen any such, until she told them that it was her brother, her lost brother, by that assured scar upon his arm cut with a sword in his youth, she knew him; and were all resolved this morning to meet there and be merry.

“The father hastily runs up, finds the mark, and with horrid regret of this monstrous murther of his own son, with the same knife cut his own throat.

“The wife went up to consult with him, where in a most strange manner beholding them both in blood, wild and aghast, with the instrument at hand, readily rips up her own belly till the guts tumbled out.

“The daughter, doubting the delay of their absence, searches for them all, whom she found out too soon, with the sad sight of this scene; and being overcome with horror and amaze of this deluge of destruction, she sank down and died, the fatal end of that family.

“The truth of which was frequently known, and flew to court in this guise; but the imprinted relation conceals their names, in favour to some neighbour of repute and a-kin to that family.

“The same sense makes me silent also.”

The historical fact, immediately preceding this dreadful narrative, is the fate of Sir Walter Raleigh, which accounts for the author's having, in the original play, introduced the mention of him into the first scene of the tragedy. He has conducted the fable, and accomodated the story to his purpose, with great art. From the reality of the incident, he also calls it a true tragedy. A true tragedy, indeed it is, in all senses of the word; and such a tragedy as I thought demanded a revival, and the further notice of the Public.