There was nothing grated on his Spirit more than to be slighted in this his low condition, by such as he had supported from sinking into the Earth: and that he might not longer be afflicted in this manner, he projected several wayes, how might imploy himself in something, that might remove him from the scorn and reproach of the world. His credit was quite worn out, owing something in all the Taverns and Ale-houses that he was acquainted withal, through the whole City, and would have ran farther in their Debt, but that they not only hindred him from so doing, but likewise threatned him, by taking a course for what he owed already. This made him remove his Quarters to another remote quarter of the City. His Cloaths were so good as that they gained him credit for a Months Lodging and Dyet, in which time, he wrote several Ballads, which he sold in the Old Bailey, getting for the worst half a Crown or three shillings; but his Chapmen finding themselves losers by his works, did so revile and vilifie him the next time they saw him, that he was resolved to write no more, for it seems he had not writ Non-sense enough to please the Commonalty; he had taken too much pains to express his wit, and that spoiled all; soaring so high, the dim sighted vulgar could not discern him.
One day walking abroad Melancholy to think his first design was frustrated, he fell accidentally into the company of four or five, so unsuitably or antickly habited, that he verily thought they could not have cloathed themselves more out of fashion, than if for so doing, they had consulted all the Brokers in Long-lane, or Houns-ditch. At length by their toning of several scraps of Plays, and the whining out of Lovers parts, he judged them to be Players of the worst Edition, and that wanting some to compleat their number, they endeavoured to perswade him to make one of their Stroling Company.
They needed not many words to perswade one, that knew not what to do with himself; wherefore, he readily consented to their propositions. Viewing them well, and their Habits, he absolutely concluded, that their Company had been lately broken, and that they had shared house-hold-stuff, every one taking what he could lay his hands on of the Properties, (though very improper to wear publickly) with which, necessity since hath forc’d them to cover their own nakedness. However, he was resolv’d to go through, with what he promised, and so calling for what was to pay, being one and twenty pence among them all, they made a hard shift to pay the shot within three half-pence, and so marcht off. They provided him a lodging, where they all lay that night, and the next morning, their undertaker came, who summoning them all into a large Room, there appeared also three or four Women, who with the rest rehearsed their parts in Actæon and Diana. After rehersal the undertaker being informed what our Soldier of Fortune was, came and saluted him kindly, and welcom’d him into their Society, and giving him his part to study, carried him to the Tavern, with some of the three-quarter-sharers, and made him drunk at his initiation.
Having studied Actæon and Diana, Jack Swabber, Simkin in the Chest, Miles the Miller, Simpleton the Smith, with divers other drolling farces, away they strolled into the Countrey, some in a Coach (by reason of the Properties they carried with them,) others on Foot of the meaner sort, and some on Horseback; had the most intelligent met them, it would have puzzled him to have told what they were. The first thing they did when they came to a Town, was to acquaint the Mayor thereof with their intent, producing their Patent which authoriz’d them. Having the grant of the Mayor, most commonly they were permitted the Town-Hall to play in. At first, commonly they had usually such great audiences, and got so much Money, that it undid them, for it made them insolent, idle, careless, always drunk and continually quarrelling, so that the Town and Countrey growing weary of them, their poverty also made them weary of the Town. The next place they came at, it may be, there they would endeavour to regulate those disorders; but no sooner were they flusht, but they fell into the like confused Chaos. There was seldom a Rehearsal in the morning, in which there was not some scuffle; sometimes altogether by the ears, all engaged in a Quarrel, but none knowing the cause of it. Their differences most commonly did arise from ones exalting his own worth, by the undervaluing anothers, saying that such a one had a greater share than he, though he deserved more; that such a fellow had a noble part, when he had that of a Servant, whereas he better merited to be a Prince, than the other a Foot-Boy; Damn me, said another, that Fellow that speaks now hath no Soul; a Parrot would be taught to speak better, and understand more than he; a Baboon treads a Stage a thousand degrees beyond him; See but yonder Horse-fac’d Lover, is he fit to act that part with that hunting face of his? it is enough without the help of a Vizard to fright his Mistress into Convulsion fits, or make a young Woman miscarry, that hath not half gone her time. If reviling one another would not put them together by the ears, there was another expedient would infallibly do it. There was one well stricken in years, yet far more amorous or salacious than the younger, and when she found not her accustomed pleasures, she judg’d that one of those three, had stoll them from her; when jealousie had possest her of that Opinion, she ne’re capitulated with them otherwise, than with her hands, which she used so nimbly together with the nails, that had not black Patches been in Fashion, I know not how without shame they could have played. The Men on the other side, being known Rivals to one another, could not forbear shewing their animosities, (as their parts permitted them) one being run into the hand, another through the Arm, making a real Tragedy of what was but pretended. Their Stock of Clothes was very small so that a Parson was forc’d to Act in a Loyars Gown, instead of one that was Canonical; a Bishop, with a Shepherds Crook, instead of a Crozier, and a Cushion so dented, that the Corners might be more perspicuous, instead of a Miter; they wanted a Target, and knew not what to do, at last, the invention of one of the wittiest, helpt them to a large Wooden Tray, and nailing a piece of Tape to the sides within, served rarely well. The Actors were few, wherefore some Acted three or four parts, nay one Acted two parts at once upon the Stage, the King, and the Nobleman; when as a Nobleman in a long mourning Cloak, (for they could get nothing else, that could nearer represent him by) he spake to an Indian Gown that lay in a Chair, with a Past-board Crown that lay upon it, all bedawbed with yellow, (and I know not what Colours) by a Countrey Sign-Painter, to make it look like. Having ended his Speech, he threw off the long Cloak, and putting on the Crown and Gown, he then as a King returned an answer to the Cloak, I mean the Nobleman, making a many changes, till the conference was over. The Nobleman i. e. the Cloak, being taken off the Stage, that is, having made his exit, it was the Kings Cue to seat himself a while, to give audience to a person, that had great concerns with his Majesty, whole Speech being long and his memory treacherous, he had not gone a quarter through his Speech, but that he was irrecoverably out, past all prompting; the King not knowing how to help, and the audience eagerly expecting his going on, at last it came into his head, ingenuously to tell him that he had heard enough, he would hear the rest within, by which means the Play went on.
One Market-day, (which was the chief time they pitcht on) they Acted a Play, (by the invitation of some Gentlemen in a Tavern,) in which there were two which fought on the stage, which were supposed Clowns, and were to baste one another to some purpose. A Countrey Gentleman being there present, and having never seen a play, but this Acted once before, and seeing them fight again in the same manner, as they had done before, steps hastily down stairs, and bringing up a Bottle of Wine in his hand, interposes between them; telling them they should not thus bear a grudge one to the other, but that they should be friends; and to that end he had brought a Bottle of Wine, that they should shake hands, and drink to each other, and would not stir, off the place, till he had seen them so do, and go too, off a several way. That Scene was spoyled, however they played on, and coming to the third Scene in the fourth Act, these Fellows were to enter again; the Gentleman seeing them together, and facing each other, ran from his seat to them again; swearing that he that gave the first blow, should beat him too; What, said he, cannot we be quiet here, but you two Logger-heads must spoil the Play? This put the whole audience into such laughter and confusion, that the Play was forced to be deferred till another days action.
They staid not long in a place, the People being tired with such costly novelties as they call’d them, which made them ramble every where. Coming to York, they had the same success at first, as they found else where, but had like to have been scared out of their wits. For one day acting a Play, wherein the King of Scots was to be murdered barbarously by his Subjects, and having intimation of the suddain coming of the Assassinates, condoled his own unhappy Fate, and condemns the treachery of his Subjects proceedings; is there no hope of Life, is there never a true Scot, that now dares stand by me? A Scot there present, seeing the murderers come in with their drawn Swords, cryed out, there is one left still, my neen sel, yar een Country-man. Let the Deel fill my wem with smaw steans, if I make not the Loons eat my Sward as smaw as Saunies durch. And thereupon drew his broad Sword, and at them he came as desperately resolved, as if they had been real enemies; and notwithstanding the King intreated him to be patient, he grew more furious, and would have prosecuted them to death, had not his supposed Majesty held him in his arms, till they had made their escape. Not long after this they were invited to act at a Gentlemans house in the Countrey, where they acted their parts so badly, by stealing several pieces of Plate, that some of them had like to have acted their last; Our Soldier of Fortune fearing by their ends, he might come to his last, fled away privately to London; where he betook himself to his Pen again, altering the Scene of his former design. Observing what large encouragement some received from their Dedications, he resolved to make tryal of scribling too: the first that he wrote was indifferently well accepted of, it being an Hodge podge of Translation, Transcription, Collection, and his own Composition; he Dedicating it to a Person of Quality, was largely rewarded; had he stuck here he had done well, but being infected with the base ingratitude of Mercenary Scriblers, he presented his Book to at least twenty more, with the same Dedication, the name onely altered, which brought him into so great dis-esteem amongst such as would have been his constant Benefactors, that ever after they would never accept of his Presentations.
And now poor Gentleman, not knowing what to do, walking melancholy in the New Exchange, he took special notice of a young Trader, who eyed him as much, as he her (for he was a handsom proper young man, and had cloaths on his back, a Gentleman needed not to be ashamed to wear,) they gazed at each other a pretty while at a distance, but Love quickly brought them nearer together. For having money in his Pocket, he approacht the Shop with a Pretence to buy some Linnen, where having seen some of several sorts, he bought some, the better to engage her in a discourse. He askt her whether she was single, and whether that was her Shop? she answered, she was married, and therefore had nothing she could call her own. How Madam, (said he) I cannot doubt but that you have many Virtues, which you may justly call your own; you have Beauty too, and admirable outward parts. I thank your good opinion, Sir, (said she) but I look upon her as unworthy to deserve the name of an owner, that either cannot, or durst not give what is in her possession; though you cannot give, Madam, yet you may so dispose of that beautious mirrour of your Sex, your Face, or what else you have, as that the frequent loan thereof, may be esteemed equal to the gift. She was quick of apprehension, and understood his drift, and though she answered him not, yet her smiles shewed a sufficient satisfaction to his amorous discourse, and her blushes bid him do if he durst. To be short, he won her so absolutely to himself, in a little time, that she had nothing in her Power, which she did not freely give him, till her Husband had almost nothing left, and suspecting the infidelity of his Wife, watcht her so narrowly, that her Enamorato enjoyed her rarely, and seldomer had his wants supplyed.