To the Right Honourable CHARLES MONTAGUE, ONE OF THE LORDS OF THE TREASURY. SIR, Heartily with this play were as perfect as I intended I it, that it might be, amore worthy your acceptance; and that my Dedication of it to you might be more becoming that honour and efteem which I, with every body who is fo 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 confcious of feveral. I confefs I defigned (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, fruftraque laboret aufus idem. And now to make amends for the vanity of fuch a defign, I do confefs both the attempt, and the imperfect performance. Yet I must take the boldnefs to fay, I have not mifcarried in the whole; for the mechanical part of it is regular. That I may fay with a little vanity, as a builder may fay, he has built a house according to the model laid down before him; or a gardener that he has fet his flowers in a knot of fuch or fuch a figure. I defigned the moral firft, 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 ftrong as I could, because it was fingle; and I made it fingle, becaufe I would avoid confufion, and was refolved to preferve the three unities of the Drama. Sir, this difcourfe is very impertinent to you, whofe judgment much better can difcern the faults, than I can excufe them; and whofe good-nature, like that of a lover, will find A 2 out out thofe hidden beauties (if there are any fach) which it would be great immodefty for me to difcover. I think I do not fpeak improperly when I call you a Lover of Poetry; for it is very well known fhe has been a very kind mistress to you; fhe has not denied you the last favour, and fhe 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 you to receive. I have, fince the acting of this play, hearkened after the objections which have been made to it; for I was confcious where a true critic might have put me upon my defence, I was prepared for the attack; and am pretty confident I could have vindicated fome parts, and excufed others: and where there were any plain mifcarriages, I would moft ingenuoufly have confeffed them. But I have not heard any thing faid fufficient to provoke an anfwer. That which looks most like an objection, does not relate in particular to this play, but to all or moft that ever have been written; and that is foliloquy. Therefore. I will anfwer it, not only for my own fake, but to fave others the trouble, to whom it may hereafter be objected. I grant, that for a man to talk to himself, appears abfurd and unnatural; and indeed it is fo in most cafes but the circumftances which may attend the occafion make great alteration. It oftentimes happens to a man, to have defigns which require him to himself, and in their nature cannot admit of a confident. Such, for certain, is all villainy; and other lefs mifchievous intentions may be very improper to be cominunicated to a fecond perfon. In fuch a cafe, therefore, the audience. muft obferve whether the perfon upon the ftage takes any notice of them at all, or no. For if he fuppofes any one to be by, when he talks to himself, it is monstrous and ridiculous to the last degree; nay, not only in this cafe, but in any part of a play, if there is expreffed any knowledge of an audience, it is infufferable. But otherwife, when a man in foliloquy reasons with himself, and pro's and con's, and weighs all his defigns, 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 fpectators of the plot in agitation, and the poet finds it neceffary to let us know the whole mystery of this contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this perfon's thoughts; and to that end is forced to make use of the expedient of fpeech, no better way being yet invented for the communication of thought. Another very wrong objection has been made by fome who have not taken leisure to diftinguifh 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 man a gull and a fool that is deceived? At that rate I am afraid the two claffes of men will be reduced to one, and the knaves themselves be at a lofs to juftify their title; but if an open-hearted honeft 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 feveral trials, has been fo; if this man be deceived by the treachery of the other, muft he of neceffity commence 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 fome light into the character of Maskwell 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 fort of man which he did not like. As for his fufpecting his familarity with my Lady Touchwood, let them examine the answer that Mellefont makes him, and compare it with the conduct of Maskwell's character through the play. I would beg them again to look into the character of Mafkwell before they accufe Mellefont of weakness før being deceived by him. For upon fumming 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 am more concerned than all the falfe criticifins that are made upon me; and that is, fome of the ladies are offended. I am heartily forry for it; for I declare I would rather difoblige all the critics in the world, than one of the fair-fex. They are concerned that I have represented some women vicious and affected: How can I help it? It is the business of a comic poet to paint the vices and follies of human-kind; and there are but two fexes, 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 fhould be very glad of an opportunity to make my com. pliment to thofe 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 difcreet fhould not be offended; for fuch characters as these distinguish them, and make their beauties more flining and obferved: and they who are of the other kind, may nevertheless pafs for fuch, by feeming not to be difpleafed, or touched with the fatire of this Comedy. Thus have they alfo wrongfully accufed me of doing them a prejudice, when I have in reality done them a fervice. You will pardon me, Sir, for the freedom I take of making anfwers to other people, in an epiftle which ought wholly to be facred to you: but fince 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'muft now, Sir, declare to the world how kind you have been to my endeavours; for in regard of what was well meant, you have excufed what was ill performed. I beg you would continue the fame method in your acceptance of this dedication. I know no other way of making a return to that humanity you fhewed, in protecting an infant, but by enrolling it in your fervice, now that it is of age, and come into the world. Therefore, be pleafed to accept of this as an acknowledgment of the favour you have shewn me, and an earnest of the real fervice and gratitude of, SIR, Your moft obliged, Humble Servant, WILLIAM CONGREVE. To |