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it, that it might be more worthy your acceptance; and that my Dedication of it to you might be more becoming that honour and esteem which 1, with every body who is so fortunate as to know you, have for you. It had your countenance when yet unknown; and now it is made public, it wants your protection.
I would not have any body imagine, that I think this play without its faults, for I am conícious of several. I confess I designed (whatever vanity or ambition occafioned that defign) to have written a true and regular comedy; but I found it an undertaking which put me in mind of — Sudet multum, frustraque laboret ausus idem. And now to make amends for the vanity of such a defign, I do confess both the attempt, and the imperfect performance. Yet I inust take the boldnefs to say, I have not miscarried in the whole ; for the mechanical part of it is regular. That I may say with a little vani. ty, as a builder may fay, he has built a house according to the model laid down before hin; or a gardener that he has set his flowers in a knot of such or such a figure. I defigned the moral first, and to that moral I invented the fable, and do not know that I have borrowed one hint of it any where. I made the plot as strong as I could, because it was single; and I made it single, because I would avoid confusion, and was resolved to preserve the three unities of the Drama. Sir, this discourse is very impertinent to you, whose judgment much better can discern the faults, than I can excuse them ; and whole good-nature, like that of a lover, will find
out those hidden beauties (if there are any fach) which it would be great immodefty for me to discover. I think I do not speak improperly when I call you a Lover of Poetry; for it is very well known she has been a very kipd mistress to you ; she has not denied you the last favour, and she has been fruitful to you in a most beautiful iffue--If I break off abruptly here, I hope every bo. dy will understand that it is to avoid a commendation, which, as it is your due, would be most easy for me to pay, and too troublesome for
to receive. I have, since the acting of this play, hearkened after the objections which have been made to it; for I was coofcious where a true critic might have put me upon my defence, I was prepared for the attack; and an pretty confident I could have vindicated some parts, and excused others : and where there were any plain miscar. riages, I would most ingenuously have confessed them. But I have not heard any thing said sufficient to provoke an answer. That which looks most like an objection, does not relate in particular to this play, but to all or most that ever have been written; and that is soliloquy. Therefore I will answer it, not only for my own fake, but to save others the trouble, to whom it may here. after be objected.
I grant, that for a man to talk to himself, appears ab. furd and unnatural; and indeed it is so in most cases : but the circumstances which may attend the occasion make great alteration. It oftentimes happens to a man, to have designs which require him to himself, and in their nature cannot admit of a confident. Such, for Certain, is all villainy; and other less mischievous intentions
be very improper to be cominunicated to a second person. In such a case, therefore, the audience muft obferve whether the person upon the stage takes any notice of them at all, or no.
For if he supposes any one to be by, when he talks to himself, it is monstrous and ridiculous to the last degree; nay, not only in this case, but in any part of a play, if there is expressed any knowledge of an audience, it is infufferable. But otherwife, when a man in soliloquy reasons with himself, and pro's and con's, and weighs all his designs, we ought not to imagine that this man either talks to us, or to himself; he is only thinking, and thinking fuch matter as were
inexcufable folly in him to speak. But because we are concealed spectators of the plot in agitation, and the poet finds it necessary to let us know the whole mystery of this contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this person's thoughts; and to that end is forced to make use of the expedient of speech, no better way being yet invented for the communication of thought.
Another very wrong objection has been made by some who have not taken leisure to distinguifh the characters. The hero of the play, as they are pleased to call him, (meaning Mellefont) 'is a gull, and made a fool, and cheated. Is every mana gull and a fool that is deceived ? At that rate I am afraid the two classes of men will be re. duced to one, and the knaves themselves be at a loss to justify their title; but if an open-hearted honest man, who has an entire confidence in one whom he takes to be his friend, and whom he has obliged to be fo; and who (to confirin him in his opinion) in all appearance, and upon several trials, has been so; if this man be deceived by the treachery of the other, must he of necessity com*mence fool immediately, only because the other has proved a villain ? Ay, but there was a caution given to Mellefont, in the first act, by his friend Careless. Of what nature was that caution ? only to give the audience some light into the character of Malkwell before his appearance, and not to convince Mellefont of his treachery; for that was more than Careless was then able to do: he never knew Maskwell guilty of any villainy; he was only a sort of man which he did not like. As for his fula pecting his familarity with my Lady Touchwood, let them examine the answer that Mellefont makes him, and compare it with the conduct of Malkwell's character through the play:
I would beg them again to look into the character of Maskwell before they accuse Melle font of weakness for being deceived by him. For upon summing up the enquiry into this objection, it may be found they have miftaken cunning in one character for folly in another.
But there is one thing, at which I ain more concerned than all the falle criticisms that are made upon me; and that is, some of the ladies are offended. I am heartily sorry for it; for I declare I would rather disoblige all the critics in the world, than one of the fair-sex. They
are concerned that I have represented some women vici. ous and affected : How can I help it? It is the bufiness of a comic poet to paint the vices and follies of human-kind; and there are but two sexes, male and female, men and women, which have a title to humanity : and if I leave one half of them out, the work will be imperfect. I should be very glad of an opportunity to make my compliment to those ladies who are offended; but they can no more expect it in a comedy, than to be tickled by a fur: geon when he is letting them blood. They who are virtuous or discreet should not be offended; for such characters as these distinguish them, and make their beauties more sliining and observed : and they who are of the other kind, may nevertheless pass for such, by seeming not to be displeased, or touched with the satire of this Comedy. Thus have they also wrongfully accused me of doing them a prejudice, when I have in reality done them a service.
You will pardon me, Sir, for the freedom I take of making answers to other people, in an epistle which ought wholly to be sacred to you : but since I intend the play to be fo too, I hope I may take the more liberty of justifying it where it is in the right. I'must now, Sir, declare to the world how kind
you have been to my endeavours; for in regard of what was well meant, you have excused what was ill performed, I beg you would continue the same method in your acceptance of this dedication. I know no other
way king a return to that humanity you shewed, in protecting an infant, but by enrolling it in your service, now that it is of
and come into the world. Therefore, be pleased to accept of this as an acknowledgment of the favour you have shewn me, and an earnest of the real fers' vice and gratitude of,