Garrick Plays.
No. XX.
[From “Bussy D’Ambois his Revenge,” a Tragedy, by George Chapman, 1613.]
Plays and Players.
Guise.—I would have these things
Brought upon Stages, to let mighty Misers
See all their grave and serious mischiefs play’d,
As once they were in Athens and old Rome.
Clermont. Nay, we must now have nothing brought on Stages
But puppetry, and pied ridiculous antics.
Men thither come to laugh, and feed fool-fat:
Check at all goodness there, as being profaned:
When, wheresoever Goodness comes, she makes
The place still sacred, though with other feet
Never so much ’tis scandal’d and polluted.
Let me learn any thing, that fits a man,
In any Stables shewn, as well as Stages.—
Baligny. Why, is not all the World esteem’d a Stage?
Clermont. Yes, and right worthily; and Stages too
Have a respect due to them, if but only
For what the good Greek Moralist says of them:
“Is a man proud of greatness, or of riches?
Give me an expert Actor; I’ll shew all
That can within his greatest glory fall:
Is a man ’fraid with poverty and lowness?
Give me an Actor; I’ll shew every eye
What he laments so, and so much does fly:
The best and worst of both.”—If but for this then,
To make the proudest outside, that most swells
With things without him, and above his worth,
See how small cause he has to be so blown up;
And the most poor man, to be griev’d with poorness;
Both being so easily borne by expert Actors:
The Stage and Actors are not so contemptful,
As every innovating Puritan,
And ignorant Swearer out of jealous envy,
Would have the world imagine. And besides
That all things have been liken’d to the mirth
Used upon Stages, and to Stages fitted;
The Splenetive Philosopher, that ever
Laugh’d at them all, were worthy the enstaging:
All objects, were they ne’er so full of tears,
He so conceited, that he could distill thence
Matter, that still fed his ridiculous humour.
Heard he a Lawyer, never so vehement pleading,
He stood and laugh’d. Heard he a Tradesman, swearing
Never so thriftily, selling of his wares,
He stood and laugh’d. Heard he a Holy Brother,
For hollow ostentation, at his prayers
Ne’er so impetuously, he stood and laugh’d.
Saw he a Great Man, never so insulting,
Severely inflicting, gravely giving laws,
Not for their good but his—he stood and laugh’d.
Saw he a Youthful Widow,
Never so weeping, wringing of her hands
For her dead Lord, still the Philosopher laugh’d.—
Now, whether he supposed all these Presentments
Were only maskeries, and wore false faces,
Or else were simply vain, I take no care;
But still he laugh’d, how grave soe’er they were.