If this familiar Stile of talking should, in the Nostrils of Gravity and Wisdom, smell a little too much of the Presumptuous or the Pragmatical, I will at least descend lower in my Apology for it, by calling to my Assistance the old, humble Proverb, viz. 'Tis an ill Bird that, &c. Why then should I debase my Profession by setting it in vulgar Lights, when I may shew it to more favourable Advantages? And when I speak of our Errors, why may I not extenuate them by illustrious Examples? or by not allowing them greater than the greatest Men have been subject to? Or why, indeed, may I not suppose that a sensible Reader will rather laugh than look grave at the Pomp of my Parallels?
Now, as I am tied down to the Veracity of an Historian whose Facts cannot be supposed, like those in a Romance, to be in the Choice of the Author to make them more marvellous by Invention; if I should happen to sink into a little farther Insignificancy, let the simple Truth of what I have farther to say, be my Excuse for it. I am obliged, therefore, to make the Experiment, by shewing you the Conduct of our Theatrical Ministry in such Lights as on various Occasions it appear'd in.
Though Wilks had more Industry and Application than any Actor I had ever known, yet we found it possible that those necessary Qualities might sometimes be so misconducted as not only to make them useless, but hurtful to our Common-wealth;[168] for while he was impatient to be foremost in every thing, he frequently shock'd the honest Ambition of others, whose Measures might have been more serviceable, could his Jealousy have given way to them. His own Regards for himself, therefore, were, to avoid a disagreeable Dispute with him, too often complied with: But this leaving his Diligence to his own Conduct, made us, in some Instances, pay dearly for it: For Example; he would take as much, or more Pains, in forwarding to the Stage the Water-gruel Work of some insipid Author that happen'd rightly to make his Court to him,[169] than he would for the best Play wherein it was not his Fortune to be chosen for the best Character. So great was his Impatience to be employ'd, that I scarce remember, in twenty Years, above one profitable Play we could get to be reviv'd, wherein he found he was to make no considerable Figure, independent of him: But the Tempest having done Wonders formerly, he could not form any Pretensions to let it lie longer dormant: However, his Coldness to it was so visible, that he took all Occasions to postpone and discourage its Progress, by frequently taking up the morning-Stage with something more to his Mind. Having been myself particularly solicitous for the reviving this Play, Dogget (for this was before Booth came into the Menagement) consented that the extraordinary Decorations and Habits should be left to my Care and Direction, as the fittest Person whose Temper could jossle through the petulant Opposition that he knew Wilks would be always offering to it, because he had but a middling Part in it, that of Ferdinand: Notwithstanding which, so it happen'd, that the Success of it shew'd (not to take from the Merit of Wilks) that it was possible to have good Audiences without his extraordinary Assistance. In the first six Days of acting it we paid all our constant and incidental Expence, and shar'd each of us a hundred Pounds: The greatest Profit that in so little a Time had yet been known within my Memory! But, alas! what was paltry Pelf to Glory? That was the darling Passion of Wilks's Heart! and not to advance in it was, to so jealous an Ambition, a painful Retreat, a mere Shade to his Laurels! and the common Benefit was but a poor Equivalent to his want of particular Applause! To conclude, not Prince Lewis of Baden, though a Confederate General with the Duke of Marlborough, was more inconsolable upon the memorable Victory at Blenheim, at which he was not present, than our Theatrical Hero was to see any Action prosperous that he was not himself at the Head of. If this, then, was an Infirmity in Wilks, why may not my shewing the same Weakness in so great a Man mollify the Imputation, and keep his Memory in Countenance.
This laudable Appetite for Fame in Wilks was not, however, to be fed without that constant Labour which only himself was able to come up to: He therefore bethought him of the means to lessen the Fatigue, and at the same time to heighten his Reputation; which was, by giving up now and then a Part to some raw Actor who he was sure would disgrace it, and consequently put the Audience in mind of his superior Performance: Among this sort of Indulgences to young Actors he happen'd once to make a Mistake that set his Views in a clear Light. The best Criticks, I believe, will allow that in Shakespear's Macbeth there are, in the Part of Macduff, two Scenes, the one of Terror, in the second Act, and the other of Compassion, in the fourth, equal to any that dramatick Poetry has produc'd: These Scenes Wilks had acted with Success, tho' far short of that happier Skill and Grace which Monfort had formerly shewn in them.[170] Such a Part, however, one might imagine would be one of the last a good Actor would chuse to part with: But Wilks was of a different Opinion; for Macbeth was thrice as long, had more great Scenes of Action, and bore the Name of the Play: Now, to be a second in any Play was what he did not much care for, and had been seldom us'd to: This Part of Macduff, therefore, he had given to one Williams, as yet no extraordinary, though a promising Actor.[171] Williams, in the Simplicity of his Heart, immediately told Booth what a Favour Wilks had done him. Booth, as he had Reason, thought Wilks had here carried his Indulgence and his Authority a little too far; for as Booth had no better a Part in the same Play than that of Banquo, he found himself too much disregarded in letting so young an Actor take Place of him: Booth, therefore, who knew the Value of Macduff, proposed to do it himself, and to give Banquo to Williams; and to make him farther amends, offer'd him any other of his Parts that he thought might be of Service to him. Williams was content with the Exchange, and thankful for the Promise. This Scheme, indeed, (had it taken Effect) might have been an Ease to Wilks, and possibly no Disadvantage to the Play; but softly——That was not quite what we had a Mind to! No sooner, then, came this Proposal to Wilks, but off went the Masque and out came the Secret! For though Wilks wanted to be eas'd of the Part, he did not desire to be excell'd in it; and as he was not sure but that might be the case if Booth were to act it,[172] he wisely retracted his own Project, took Macduff again to himself, and while he liv'd never had a Thought of running the same Hazard by any farther Offer to resign it.
Here I confess I am at a Loss for a Fact in History to which this can be a Parallel! To be weary of a Post, even to a real Desire of resigning it; and yet to chuse rather to drudge on in it than suffer it to be well supplied (though to share in that Advantage) is a Delicacy of Ambition that Machiavil himself has made no mention of: Or if in old Rome, the Jealousy of any pretended Patriot equally inclin'd to abdicate his Office may have come up to it, 'tis more than my reading remembers.
As nothing can be more impertinent than shewing too frequent a Fear to be thought so, I will, without farther Apology, rather risque that Imputation than not tell you another Story much to the same purpose, and of no more consequence than my last. To make you understand it, however, a little Preface will be necessary.
If the Merit of an Actor (as it certainly does) consists more in the Quality than the Quantity of his Labour; the other Menagers had no visible Reason to think this needless Ambition of Wilks, in being so often and sometimes so unnecessarily employ'd, gave him any Title to a Superiority; especially when our Articles of Agreement had allow'd us all to be equal. But what are narrow Contracts to great Souls with growing Desires? Wilks, therefore, who thought himself lessen'd in appealing to any Judgment but his own, plainly discovered by his restless Behaviour (though he did not care to speak out) that he thought he had a Right to some higher Consideration for his Performance: This was often Booth's Opinion, as well as my own. It must be farther observ'd, that he actually had a separate Allowance of Fifty Pounds a Year for writing our daily Play-Bills for the Printer: Which Province, to say the Truth, was the only one we car'd to trust to his particular Intendance, or could find out for a Pretence to distinguish him. But, to speak a plainer Truth, this Pension, which was no part of our original Agreement, was merely paid to keep him quiet, and not that we thought it due to so insignificant a Charge as what a Prompter had formerly executed. This being really the Case, his frequent Complaints of being a Drudge to the Company grew something more than disagreeable to us: For we could not digest the Imposition of a Man's setting himself to work, and then bringing in his own Bill for it. Booth, therefore, who was less easy than I was to see him so often setting a Merit upon this Quantity of his Labour, which neither could be our Interest or his own to lay upon him, proposed to me that we might remove this pretended Grievance by reviving some Play that might be likely to live, and be easily acted, without Wilks's having any Part in it. About this time an unexpected Occasion offer'd itself to put our Project in practice: What follow'd our Attempt will be all (if any thing be) worth Observation in my Story.
In 1725 we were call'd upon, in a manner that could not be resisted, to revive the Provok'd Wife,[173] a Comedy which, while we found our Account in keeping the Stage clear of those loose Liberties it had formerly too justly been charg'd with, we had laid aside for some Years.[174] The Author, Sir John Vanbrugh, who was conscious of what it had too much of, was prevail'd upon[175] to substitute a new-written Scene in the Place of one in the fourth Act, where the Wantonness of his Wit and Humour had (originally) made a Rake[176] talk like a Rake in the borrow'd Habit of a Clergyman: To avoid which Offence, he clapt the same Debauchee into the Undress of a Woman of Quality: Now the Character and Profession of a Fine Lady not being so indelibly sacred as that of a Churchman, whatever Follies he expos'd in the Petticoat kept him at least clear of his former Prophaneness, and were now innocently ridiculous to the Spectator.