Mor. O the variety and changes of my torment! Hau. Let 'em be cudgell'd out of doors by our grooms. Cen. I'll lend you my footman. Mav. We'll have our men blanket 'em i' the hall. Mrs. Ott. As there was one at our house, madam, for peeping in at the door. Daw. Content, i' faith. Tru. Stay, ladies and gentlemen; you'll hear, before you proceed? Mav. I'ld ha' the bridegroom blanketed too. Cen. Begin with him first. Mor. O mankind generation'! La-F. He is as fine a gentleman of his inches, madam, as any is about the town, and wears as good colours when he lists. Tru. Be brief, sir, and confess your infirmity; she'll be a-fire to be quit of you, if she but hear that nam'd once, you shall not entreat her to stay; she'll fly you like one that had the marks upon him. Mor. Ladies, I must crave all your pardons Tru. Silence, ladies. Mor. For a wrong I have done to your whole sex, in marrying this fair and virtuous gentlewoman Cler. Hear him, good ladies. Mor. Being guilty of an infirmity, which before I conferred with these learned men, I thought I might have conceal'd Tru. But now being better inform'd in his conscience by them, he is to declare it, and give satisfaction, by asking your public forgiveness. Mor. I am no man, ladies. All. How! Mor. Utterly unabled in nature, by reason of frigidity, to perform the duties, or any the least office of a husband. Mav. Now out upon him, prodigious creature! Cen. Bridegroom uncarnate! Mor. Worst of all! Cler. Why then, 'tis no divorce, doctor, if she consent not? Cut. No, if the man be frigidus, it is de parte uxoris, that we grant libellum divortii, in the law. Ott. I, it is the same in theology. Tru. Nay, sir, be not utterly disheartened, we have yet a small relick of hope left, as near as our comfort is blown out. Cierimont, produce your brace of knights. What was that, master parson, you told me in errore qualitatis, e'en now? Dauphine, whisper the bride, that she carry it as if she were guilty and asham'd. Ott. Marry, sir, in errore qualitatis (which master doctor did forbear to urge), if she be found corrupta, that is, vitiated or broken up, that was pro virgine desponsa, espoused for a maid 'O MANKIND generation!] This word mankind, or mannish, says Mr. Upton, which we meet with in old authors, has not yet been sufficiently explained. Man, besides its well known signification, in the language of our forefathers, signified wickedness. Thus Chaucer uses it in the Man of larves tale; "Fie, mannish, fie." Vers. 7$3. And Shakspeare in Coriolanus, act 4. "Are you And in the Winter's Tale, act 2. mankind?" "Out! a mankind witch!" And Fairfax, in his translation of Tasso ; “See, see, this mankinde strumpet, see (he cride) This shameless whore." 20.95. "She'll fly you like one that had the MARKS upon him.] Of the plague, small-pox, or any other contagious distemper. Tru. So should you be too, Jack Daw: what should keep you off? she's but a woman, and in disgrace: he'll be glad on't. Daw. Will he? I thought he would ha' been angry. Cler. You will dispatch, knights; it must be done, i' faith. Tru. Why, an' it must, it shall, sir, they say. They'll ne'er go back. Do not tempt his patience. Duw. It is true, indeed, sir. Mor. What is true, gentlemen? what do you assure me? Daw. That we have known your bride, sir La-F. In good fashion. She was our mistress, or so-———— Cler. Nay, you must be plain, knights, as you were to me. Ott. 1, the question is, if you have carnaliter, or no? La-F. Carnaliter? what else, sir? Mer. O let me worship and adore you, gentlemen! Epi. I am undone! Mor. Yes, to my hand, I thank these knights. Master parson, let me thank you otherwise. Cen. And ha' they confess'd? Mac. Now out upon 'em, informers! Tru. You see what creatures you may bestow your favours on, madams. Hau. I would except against 'em as beaten knights, wench, and not good witnesses in law. Mrs. Ott. Poor gentlewoman, how she takes it! Hau. Be comforted, Morose, I love you the better for't. Cen. So do I, I protest. Cut. But, gentlemen, you have not known her since matrimonium Ž Daw. Not to-day, master doctor. Cut. Why, then I say, for any act before, the matrimonium is good and perfect; unless the worshipful bridegroom did precisely, before witness, demand, if she were virgo ante nuptias. Epi. No, that he did not, I assure you, master doctor. Cut. If he cannot prove that, it is retum conjugium, notwithstanding the premisses; and they do no way impedire. And this is my sentence, this I pronounce. Ott. I am of master doctor's resolution too, sir; if you made not that demand ante nupt as. Mor. O my heart! wilt thou break? wilt thou break this is worst of all worst worsts that hell could have devis'd! marry a whore! and so much noise! Daup. Come, I see now plain confederacy in this doctor and this parson, to abuse a gentleman. You study his affliction. I pray' be gone, companions. And, gentlemen, I begin to suspect you for having parts with 'em. Sir, will it please you hear me? Mor. O, do not talk to me; take not from me the pleasure of dying in silence, nephew. Daup. Sir, must speak to you. I have been long your poor despised kinsman, and many a hard thought has strengthened you against me: but now it shall appear if either I love you or your peace, and prefer them to all the world beside. I will not be long or grievous to you, sir. If I free you from this unhappy match absolutely, and instantly, after all this trouble, and almost in your despair, now——— Mor. (It cannot be.) Daup. Sir, that you be never troubled with a murmur of it more, what shall I hope for, or deserve of you? Mor. O, what thou wilt, nephew ! thou shalt deserve me, and have me. Daup. Shall I have your favour perfect to me, and love hereafter? Mor. That, and any thing beside. Make thine own conditions. My whole estate is thine; manage it, I will become thy ward. Daup. You know I have been long a suitor to you, uncle, that out of your estate, which is fifteen hundred a year, you would allow me but five hundred during life, and assure the rest upon me after; to which I have often, by myself and friends, tendered you a writing to sign, which you would never consent or incline to. If you please but to effect it now Mor. Thou shalt have it, nephew: I will do it, and more. Daup. If I quit you not presently, and for ever, of this cumber, you shall have power instantly, afore all these, to revoke 7 This is worst of all worst worsts. It should be, "This is worst, of all worsts worst ;" from that express on in St. Chrysostom, xaxov xaxes xaxıs∞.—Mr. UPTON. your act, and I will become whose slave you will give me to, for ever. Mor. Where is the writing? I will seal to it, that, or to a blank, and write thine own conditions. Epi. O me, most unfortunate wretched gentlewoman! Hau. Will sir Dauphine do this? Epi. Good sir, have some compassion on mie. Mor. O, my nephew knows you, belike; away, crocodile! Cen. He does it not sure without good ground. Daup. Here, sir. Mor. Come, nephew, give me the pen; I will subscribe to any thing, and seal to what thou wilt, for my deliverance. Thou art my restorer. Here, I deliver it thee as my deed. If there be a word in it lacking, or writ with false orthography, I protest before- -I will not take the advantage. Daup. Then here is your release, sir; you have married a boy, [he takes off Epicane's peruke,] a gentleman's son, "that I have brought up this half year, at my great charges, and for this composition, Daup. I thank you, good doctor Cut- Daup. Yes, mistress Epicone. Tru. Well, Dauphine, you have lurch'd your friends of the better half of the garland, by concealing this part of the plot : but much good do it thee, thou deserv'st it, Well, Dauphine, you have lurch'd your friends of the better half of the garland, by concealing this part of the plot.] Mr. Upton has here prevented me in a judicious observation, which will give the reader in his words: Hardly, I believe, can be given a "better instance of a happy discovery, and unravelling of the whole plot, than in this play "which we have now before us, The persons of the play are all met together, and all in "the highest suspense of the catastrophe: by concealing this part of the plot, Dauphine "has lurch'd his friends of the better half of the garland. And let this praise which True"wit gives to his friend, be returned back again to our poet." I would observe only, to justify the poet in his expressions, that the metaphor he has used, though apparently destitute of a perfect uniformity, is employed by his contemporaries in the same manner: thus Shakspeare, -He lurch'd "All swords o' th' garland.-Coriolanus. Now we have gone through this celebrated poem of our author, it would be unjust not to take notice of the judgment passed upon it, by a greater genius than Jonson, and one who fell very little short of him, or who was perhaps his equal, in critical abilities and learning. The genius I mean is Mr. Dryden; whose just and great commendations of this play are such as the poet would have thought himself honoured in receiving, had he been then alive. The examen of this comedy, which Mr. Dryden goes through with in his Essay on dramatic prest, to agreeable dramatic unities) which are 30 Insisted on by the French critics, and commentators upon Aristotle. "The length of the "action, (says Mr. Dryden,) so far from exceeding the compass of a natural day, does not "take up an artificial one; but is all included in the limits of three hours and a half, which " is no more than is required for the presentment on the stage. The scene of it is laid in "London: the latitude of place is almost as little as you can imagine; for it lies all within "the compass of two houses, and after the first act, in one. The continuity of scenes is "observed more than any of our plays, except his own Fox and Alchemist. They are "not broken above twice, or thrice at most, in the whole comedy; and in the two best of "Corneille's plays, the Cid and Cinnu, they are interrupted once. (The action of the "play is entirely one: the end or aim of which is the settling Morose's estate on Dauphine. The intrigue of it is the greatest and most noble of any pure unmixed comedy in any language: the conversation of gentlemen in the persons of True-wit and his "friends is described with more gaiety, air, and freedom, than in the rest of Jonson's "comedies; and the contrivance of the whole is still the more to be admired, because it is "comedy where the persons are only of common rank, and their business private, not "elevated by passions or high concernments, as in serious plays" Thus far this great genius, and master of the drama; whose suffrage, I think, may justly determines to Pronounce the Silent woman the most exact and finished comedy which our nation hath produced. lad. And Clerimont, for thy unexpected bringing these two to confession, wear my part of it freely. Nay, sir Daw, and sir La-Foole, you see the gentlewoman that has done you the favours! we are all thankful to you, and so should the woman-kind here, specially for lying on her, tho' not with her! you meant so, I am sure. But that we have stuck it upon you to-day, in your own imagin'd persons, and so lately, this Amazon, the champion of the sex, should beat you now thriftily, for the common slanders which ladies receive from such cuckows as you are. You are they, that when no merit of fortune can make you hope to enjoy their bodies, will yet lie with their reputations, and make their fame suffer. Away, you common moths of these, and all And ladies' honours. Go, travel to make legs ' Now Morose is gone in, clap your hands.] Some criticks of the last age imagined the character of Morose to be wholly out of nature. But to vindicate our poet, Mr. Dryden tells us from tradition, and we may venture to take his word, that Jonson was really acquainted with a person of this whimsical turn of mind: and as humour is a personal quality, the poet is acquitted from the charge of exhibiting a monster, or an extravagant unnatural caricatura. But Mr. Theobald seems to have made a further discovery of the original, from which the author copied and that appears to be the sophist Libanius. Mr. Theobald's copy hath this remark in the margin: "N. B. Libanii declamatio de Moroso, qui, cùm uxorem loquacem duxisset, seipsum accusat, Gr. Lat. interpret. F. Morello, ap. "Morel. 1597." And he adds, "Probably Jonson borrowed the character and marriage "of Morose from this declamation." It does not appear that Mr. Theobald had ever read the declamation itself, in which he would probably have found some proofs of a plain and direct imitation: and I am sorry too, that I have not been able to procure the book, and compare it with the character in the play: but the learned reader, who is now apprised of the supposed similitude, may examine the resemblance of features, whenever he has the opportunity of doing it. 66 The ALCHEMIST.] By this expression is here meant, one who pretends to the knowledge of what is called the philosophers stone, which had the faculty transmuting baser metals into gold. The professors of the art of chemistry are themselves (as well as the criticks) not entirely agreed about the meaning and etymology of the word: Menage, who assents to Bochart, derives it from an Arabic term, signifying the occult science; and Julius Firmicus, who lived in the time of Constantine, is said to be the first writer who uses the word Alchymia. But if the curious reader would be more fully informed of the origin and progress of chemistry, I refer him to the history of it, prefixed to Boerhaave's Chemistry, published by Dr. Shaw. But with regard to our poet, in the choice of his subject he was happy; for the age was then extremely addicted to the study of chemistry, and favourable to the professors of it. The following comedy was therefore no unseasonable satire upon the reigning foible; since among the few real artists there was undoubtedly a far greater number of impostors. There was also at this time a particular controversy on foot, with the famous Dr. Anthony, about his Aurum Potabile, which was warmly agitated by the members of the faculty; and we shall find that our poet alludes to this dispute in some passages of the play. |