everything that takes place on the stage.

There is a

little joke about Amarillis: as she wears armour, Bayes will call her Armarillis, and then he proceeds :

“Look you, sir, the chief hinge of the play, upon which the whole plot moves and turns, and that causes the variety of all the several accidents, which, you know, are the thing in Nature that make up the grand refinement of a play, is, that I suppose two Kings to be of the same place: as, for example, at Brentford; for I love to write familiarly. Now the people having the same relations to 'em both, the same affections, the same duty, the same obedience, and all that; are divided among themselves in point of devoir and interest, how to behave themselves equally between 'em: these Kings differing sometimes in particular; though, in the main, they agree (I know not whether I make myself well understood).

John.-I did not observe you, sir; pray say that again.

Bayes. Why, look you, sir (nay, I beseech, you be a little curious in taking notice of this; or else you'll never understand my notion of the thing); the people being embarrassed by their equal ties to both, and the Sovereigns concerned in a reciprocal regard, as well to their own interest, as the good of the people, make a certain kind of a-you understand me— upon which, there do arise several disputes, turmoils, heart-burnings, and all that- In fine, you'll apprehend it better when you see it.

[Exit to call the Players. Smith. I find the author will be very much obliged to the players, if they can make any sense out of this.

Enter BAYES.

Now, gentlemen, I would fain ask your opinion of one thing. I have made a prologue and an epilogue, which may both serve for either; that is, the prologue for the epilogue, or the epilogue for the prologue* (do you mark ?); nay, they may both serve too, I'gad, for any other play as well as this.

Smith.-Very well; that's indeed artificial.

Bayes. And I would fain ask your judgments, now, which of them would do best for the prologue? For, you must know there is, in nature, but two ways of making very good prologues: the one is by civility, by insinuation, good language, and all that, to-a-in a manner, steal your plaudit from the courtesy of the auditors; the other, by making use of some certain personal things, which may keep a hawk upon such censuring persons, as cannot otherwise, I'gad, in nature, be hindered from being too free with their tongues. To which end, my first prologue is, that I come out in a long black veil, and a great huge hangman behind me, with a furred cap, and his sword drawn; and there tell 'em plainly, that if out of good nature they will not like my play, I'gad, I'll e'en kneel down, and he shall cut my head off. Whereupon they all clapping-a

* An allusion to the two Prologues to the "Maiden Queen." VOL. II.

Smith.-Ay, but suppose they don't.

Bayes. Suppose! Sir, you may suppose what you please, I have nothing to do with your suppose, sir; nor am at all mortified at it; not at all, sir; Igad, not one jot, sir. Suppose quoth a!-ha, ha, ha!

[Walks away."

The dialogue then turns on the various devices contrived for securing the applause of an audience; and with the introduction of Thunder and Lightning to speak the Prologue, the first act ends. A lively parody occurs in this part of the scene:

"Bayes. I have made too, one of the most delicate dainty similes in the whole world, I'gad, if I knew but how to apply it. Smith.-Let's hear it, I pray you.

Bayes.-Tis an allusion to Love.

So Boar and Sow, when any storm is nigh,
Snuff up, and smell it gath'ring in the sky:
Boar beckons Sow to trot in chestnut groves,
And there consummate their unfinished loves.
Pensive in mud they wallow all alone,

And snort and gruntle to each other's moan." *

The second act introduces the Gentleman Usher and Physician of the two Kings, who converse in whispers―a hit at Davenant's "Play-house to be Let" and at "The Amorous Prince "-on matters of State, and then go off, without having in any way advanced the action. The two Kings enter, hand-in-hand-"speak French to show their breeding "—and quickly exeunt. Prince Prettyman next appears:

"Prince.-How strange a captive am I grown of late!

Shall I accuse my love, or blame my fate?

My love, I cannot; that is too divine:

And against fate what mortal dares repine ?

*Of Dryden's "Conquest of Granada," part ii., a. i., s. 2.:—
"So two kind turtles, when a storm is nigh,

Look up, and see it gathering in the sky.
Each call his mate to shelter in the groves,

Leaving in murmurs their unfinished loves.

Perched on some drooping branch they sit alone,

And coo, and hearken to each other's moan."

Enter CLORIS.

But here she comes.

Since 'tis some blazing Count, is it not?

[Lies down.

Bayes. Blazing Count! mark that. I'gad, very fine.
Pret.—But I am so surprised with sleep, I cannot speak the rest.

[Sleeps.*

Bayes.-Does not that, now, surprise you, to fall asleep just in the nick? His spirits exhale with the heat of his passion, and all that, and swop falls asleep, as you see. Now here she must make a simile.

Bayes. But she's surprised.† That's a general rule: you must ever make a simile when you are surprised; 'tis the new way of writing.

Cloris.

As some tall Pine which we on Etna find

I have stood the rage of many a boisterous wind,
Feeling without, that flames within do play,
Which would consume his root and sap away;
He spreads his wasted arms unto the skies,
Silently grieves, all pale, repines and dies:

So, shrouded up, your bright eye disappears.

Break forth, bright scorching sun, and dry my tears.

[Exit.

Bayes.—I am afraid, gentlemen, this scene has made you sad; for I must confess, when I writ it, I wept myself.

Smith.-No, truly, sir, my spirits are almost exhaled too, and I am likelier to fall asleep.

PRINCE PRETTYMAN starts up, and says

Pret. It is resolved.

[Exit.

Smith. Mr. Bayes, may one be so bold as to ask you a question, now, and you not be angry?

Bayes. O Lord, sir, you may ask me what you please. I vow to gad, you do me a great deal of honour: you do not know me, if you say that, sir.

Smith.-Then, pray, sir, what is it that this Prince here has resolved in his sleep?

Bayes. Why, I must confess, that question is well enough asked, for one that is not acquainted with this our way of writing. But you must know, sir, that, to out-do all my fellow-writers, whereas they keep their intrigs secret till the very last scene before the dance; I now, sir, do you mark me ?-a

Smith.-Begin the play, and end it, without ever opening the plot at all? Bayes. I do so, that's the very plain truth on't: ha, ha, ha; I do, I'gad. If they cannot find it out themselves, e'en let 'em alone for Bayes, I warrant you. But here now, is a scene of business: pray observe it; for I daresay you'll think it no unwise discourse this, nor ill-argued."

In this scene of business, the Gentleman Usher and

* In ridicule of an incident in Sir W. Berkeley's "The Lost Lady." + Dryden's "Indian Emperor," a. iv., s. 4.

Physician seat themselves on the thrones of the Two Kings, and then march out, flourishing their swords. Smith naturally asks, "how they came to depose the Kings so easily?" but expresses himself satisfied when Bayes replies, that "they long had a design to do it before; but never could put it in practice till now; and, to tell you true," he adds, "that's one reason why I made 'em whisper so at first."

At the end of the scene Mr. Bayes accidentally injures his nose-an allusion to Sir William Davenant's damaged feature-so that in Act iii. he appears with a paper on it. Prince Prettyman enters with Tom Thimble, and the two are made to caricature Dryden's comic writing in "The Wild Gallant." The second scene brings on the two Usurpers, to whom Cordelia brings news from Prince Volscius; and afterwards enters Amarillis, "with a book in her hand." By a mysterious turn of fate, Prince Prettyman is revealed as a fisherman's son

"A secret, great as is the world,

In which I, like the Soul, am tossed and hurled "—

and having disclosed this secret, goes out, in order that Prince Volscius, Cloris, Amarillis, and Harry "with a riding cloak and boots" (in ridicule of James Steward's "English Musician ") may enter; with Parthenope afterwards. While Prince Volscius is pulling on his boots, to join his army at Kightsbridge, he sees Parthenope, and falls in love with her.

VOLSCIUS sits down.

"How has my passion made me Cupid's scoff!
This hasty boot is on, the other off,

And sullen lies, with amorous design

To quit loud fame, and make that Beauty mine.

My legs, the emblem of my various thought,
Show to what sad distraction I am brought.

Sometimes, with stubborn Honour, like this boot,

My mind is guarded, and resolved to do't:
Sometimes, again, that very mind, by Love
Disarmed, like this other Leg does prove.

Johnson.-What pains Mr. Bayes takes to act this speech himself!
Smith.-Aye, the fool, I see, is mightily transported with it.
Volscius.-Shall I to Honour or to Love give way?

[Exit with one boot on, and the other off. Johnson.-By my troth, sir, this is as difficult a combat as ever I saw, and as equal; for 'tis determined on neither side.

Bayes.-Ay, is't not, l'gad,t ha ? For, to go off hip hop, hip hop, upon this occasion, is a thousand times better than any conclusion in the world, I'gad. But, sirs, you cannot make any judgment of this Play, because we are come but to the end of the second Act. Come, the Dame."

The fourth act opens with the usual conversation between the dramatist and his visitors, in which Buckingham takes occasion to ridicule the absurd custom then in vogue of writing plays in several parts-as, for instance, Davenant's "Siege of Rhodes,"-making Bayes say"Whereas every one makes five acts to one play, what do me I but make five plays to one plot; by which means the auditors have every day a new thing. And then, upon Saturday, to make a close of all, (for I ever begin upon a Monday), I make you, sir, a sixth play that sums up the whole matter to 'em, and all that, for fear they should have forgot it." He has also a satiric allusion to the horrors accumulated in Dryden's "Conquest of Granada."

* An allusion to Dryden's bad mode of reading.

↑ A favourite expletive with Dryden.