INTRODUCTION
Arthur Murphy's afterpiece, The Englishman From Paris, was given its first and last performance at Drury Lane on 3 April 1756. According to the prompter's account the play "went off well," and the receipts for the night, £240, indicate that a large audience attended.[1] However, despite these optimistic signs, Murphy never published the play nor did he allow it to be presented again on any stage. It is even possible that Murphy tried to destroy all traces of it; for the Lord Chamberlain's copy from which this edition is printed was not found in the usual depository, the Larpent Collection. Instead, the manuscript got in the hands of private collectors, was wrongly ascribed to Samuel Foote, and was sold in a series of auctions as an unconsidered part of a lot of rare biblical and Shakesperian items.[2] In this manner the play finally came into the possession of the Newberry Library where it eventually was correctly catalogued, but its adventitious provenance is marked by it being the only manuscript play in the collection.
[1] The London Stage 1660-1800, ed. George Winchester Stone, Jr. (Carbondale, Ill., 1962), Part 4, II, 536. I would like to thank the Newberry Library for permission to reproduce this previously unpublished manuscript of Murphy's Englishman From Paris.
[2] Simon Trefman, "Arthur Murphy's Long Lost Englishman From Paris: A Manuscript Discovered," Theatre Notebook, XX (Summer 1966), 137-138.
Certainly one important reason for Murphy's reticence to exhibit his play can be found in the events leading up to its production. Samuel Foote, who at this time was known as a comic actor and a writer of farces, was a close friend of Murphy's and in the summer of 1754, when Murphy was short of money, had taken him into his house. He encouraged the young Murphy to become an actor, gave him lessons, and, no doubt, was useful in getting him started in his new career at Covent Garden. The following summer saw Murphy in far better circumstances. Garrick articled him to act as a replacement for Mossop and also scheduled Murphy's first farce, The Apprentice, for production that same season. In a gush of confidence, Murphy told Foote, whose help and encouragement had borne such fruit, of his plans for a new farce. He was going to write a sequel to one of Foote's plays, The Englishman in Paris (C. G. 24 March 1753), a popular farce that satirized the boorish antics of a young English squire in a country where politeness is the mode. Murphy's idea was to show this blood returned to England as a Frenchified effeminate fop at odds with his family and former friends. Foote listened closely as Murphy gave him the plot and even some of the dialogue. Then, thinking that no one had a better right to a sequel than the author of the original, Foote, keeping his own counsel, wrote The Englishman Return'd From Paris in time for the new season.[3]
[3] William Cooke, Memoirs of Samuel Foote (London, 1805), I, 72-73.
Although Foote was accused of plagiarism by Murphy and then by others who had not seen the play, the charge was not strictly true. There are general similarities because both plays are based upon the same idea, and, if one looks closely, certain jokes and other bits of dialogue are too alike to be accidental. It is also possible that Crab of Foote's play was developed from certain characteristics of Quicksett. Yet on the whole, Foote's plot, characterization, and dialogue are so distinctly different from Murphy's that Foote can be given credit for writing his own play. The attitudes of both writers towards their objects of satire were entirely different. Foote wrote a wild and whimsical farce where much of the humor is slapstick. Murphy's play is a carefully worked out comedy where extreme behavior of any kind is gently ridiculed.
Despite Foote's desire for secrecy while getting his play ready for production, Murphy would be sure to hear the news as soon as plans were given out for costumes, sets, and rehearsals. His first response to Foote's betrayal of their friendship was to publish anonymously The Spouter: or, the Triple Revenge. This unplayed farce was probably published in late January, a week or two before Foote's play was to be shown. In an understandable but scurrilous rage, Murphy vilified Foote (as Dapperwit) using all the advantages of a once close friendship. In addition to being accused of plagiarism, Foote had all his personal foibles held up to public ridicule. Though an able and often eager controversialist, Foote made no reply but slyly advertised that his play would open 3 February at Covent Garden and would be "a New Farce Sequel to The Englishman in Paris, by the same author." The audience's response to Foote's version justified Murphy's worst apprehensions; it proved to be a brilliant success and was played nineteen times that season.[4]
[4] Stone, II, 524, et passim.
It seems probable that Murphy did not plan to bring out his new play that season because he had already introduced The Apprentice (D.L. 2 January 1756). But he was an irascible man and it was undoubtedly galling to watch Foote reap fame and fortune on his idea. Providing himself some small measure of satisfaction and thinking he had little to lose, Murphy made plans to give the play at least one performance on his benefit night as an actor (he had already been given a benefit as an author) and to alter some parts of the play to expose further Foote's duplicity.
Although he did not act in the play, Murphy spoke the prologue which bemoaned the fate of the dramatist:
Shall he consult his friends?—when once 'tis shown
If some friends like, they make the hint their own.[5]
[5] Literary Magazine (15 March-15 April 1756), I, 29.
Two contemporaries also quote a last minute addition that is not in the manuscript of the play. Foote's Englishman, Buck, probably dressed similarly to Foote who played the role, appears on stage to say: "O Yes! I grant you there has been an imposter about town, who with easy familiarity and assurance, has stolen my writings, &c.; and not only thus treacherously robbed, but impudently dared to assume my very name even to my face; but I am the true Charles Buck, I assure you."[6] The manuscript too makes a reference to Foote's plagiarism when Bob Wildfire and Harry Foxchase ask Jack if he had seen Buck in his travels. This part too is probably a late insertion for it is irrelevant to the plot and the characters.
[6] Cooke, I, 74-75; and Tate Wilkinson, Memoirs of His Own Life (York, 1790), II, 71-72.
Interestingly enough, Murphy's sequel is based on different characters from those appearing in Foote's play, but it is closer in spirit to the original than Foote's own sequel. Murphy's is an ironic and gentle comedy that at first glance seems to be chauvinistically anti-French and pro-English, reflecting public sentiment prior to the outbreak of the Seven-Years' War with France. Though the climax of the plot is the fop's rejection of French affectations (and Murphy made sure that the French dogs did not get the best of it), English brutality and intolerance are also exposed; and care is taken that nothing irrevocable is done so that there is room for reformation on both sides. Foote's sequel, unlike his original, is a fast-paced, almost brutal farce that depends on slapstick and whimsy for belly laughs. Foote did pay some lip service to the superiority of English manners and morals, but he was more interested in getting his audience to laugh than to applaud. Murphy's play is more serious, more sensible, and more tolerant than Foote's, but it would suffer in comparison with the livelier play. Murphy's realization of this inevitable comparison would probably be a strong reason for him to disown his play.
Murphy's attitude is exemplified by his characters. Except for Florid, none of them is truly treacherous or malicious; though some may be foolish and intolerant, they are not beyond redemption. Characters that represent simple-minded patriotic attitudes—such as Quicksett, Roger, and The Mob—were likely to be cheered by the galleries; but the more judicious part of the audience would have been able to recognize their naivety and inflexibility. Quicksett as a no-nonsense John Bull squire may serve to draw Jack Broughton out to his foppish worst, but he is also too set in his ways to appreciate anything beyond his own narrow views of property and propriety. Roger, the servant, is sincere in hating his French compeers, and his thrashing of the French servants undoubtedly elicited applause; but his limited understanding is also held up to ridicule.
On the other side, Abbé Millamour, who is writing a book of observations on the English nation, is Murphy's response to Jean Bernard Le Blanc, a French Abbé whose published comments on the English did not endear him to that people.[7] Though the Abbé is made an object of laughter, he is allowed to come to an understanding of the English virtues, and he praises them at the end of the play.
[7] Jean Bernard Le Blanc, Lettres d'un François (Hague, 1745). See George R. Havens, "The Abbé Le Blanc and English Literature," MP, XVIII (1920), 79-97.
Florid's role in the play is more ambiguous than that of the other characters. As a false philosopher who spouts nonsense, he represents an affectation that is universal rather than national. Murphy, by placing him in Jack's entourage as a tutor and by having Florid claim that his theories are partly French, does put him on the French side. But it is also clear from references made to "characteristics," "plastic nature," "systems of harmony," and the like that he is a Shaftesburian. Furthermore, Florid's "gay contempt" as a reaction to "the motley Livery of incongruous Appearances" is a paraphrase of some lines of The Pleasures of the Imagination by Mark Akenside, the Shaftesburian poet.[8] Florid's incomprehensible spoutings can be seen as mocking Akenside's turgid and abstract style, but I do not think that Murphy meant to be taken seriously in this caricature of the poet. A few years earlier in his Gray's Inn Journal, Murphy had shown himself appreciative of the works of Akenside and Shaftesbury;[9] and Murphy does not lampoon Akenside's personality as Smollett had done in Peregrine Pickle (1751). Furthermore, though Murphy mocks the concept that ridicule is the test of truth by Florid's defense, this Shaftesburian idea that Akenside vigorously upheld is approved of in another play by Murphy, Know Your Own Mind. This time the hypocrite Malvil, when exposed by ridicule, insists that it is no fair test of truth. Perhaps, because of Murphy's recent familiarity with the poet and the philosopher, he saw a possibility of raising a laugh through parody, but he never meant to indicate his disapproval of either man.
[8] Mark Akenside, Pleasures of the Imagination (London, 1744), pp. 105-107.
[9] Gray's Inn Journal (London, 1756), Nos. 10, 44, 45, 46, 57, 90, 96, 98. In 45 and 90 Murphy quotes passages from Akenside with great approval, including one that is later parodied by Florid.
Murphy's play is a plea for good sense—for all classes of society to avoid extreme behavior. The upper classes tend to be affected or unthinking, boorish pranksters; the lower classes can degenerate into a brutal, capricious mob. Murphy shows that there is room in the English way of life for tolerance, good sense, and patriotism. There was a need for this view in 1756 when riots against the French were common, and it took some skill to write a play that seemed to confirm national prejudices at the beginning and thus insure a hearing and to end by gently exposing those prejudices to ridicule. Had Murphy not been disheartened by Foote's competition, this play might have had its share of success.
In trying to retain the flavor of the manuscript, I have altered mainly those aspects which would interfere with an easy comprehension of the piece. To that end I have broken up run-on sentences when it seemed to me that the point was lost in the ramble, though when the meaning was clear I made no changes, because the lack of a full stop preserved the natural flow of spoken words. The dashes were also kept when they gave an indication of the rhythm and flow of dialogue, but when the meaning became confused other punctuation was substituted to preserve the sense. The erratic capitalization of the play was kept for nouns and compound nouns, but capitals always replaced lower case letters for the first letter of a sentence. The original eighteenth-century spelling was retained, but obvious misspellings were corrected. The mangled French of Jack, who is not supposed to be fluent in that language, was not touched, but the French of the Abbé and the French servants was corrected. All stage directions have been given in parentheses, and legible but crossed out sections of dialogue in italics. All editorial insertions have been placed within brackets.
Queensborough Community College,
The City University of New York
THE ENGLISHMAN FROM PARIS[10]