Dost thou accuse me? have I not obey'd For a lady of my birth and education? Bor. I am not ignorant how much nobility Flows in your blood, your kinsmen great and powerful Madam, to give the dignity of your birth All the best ornaments which become my fortune; Are. Am I then Brought in the balance? so, sir. Me in a partial scale, my heart is honest; Nay, study ways of pride and costly ceremony; Fourscore pound suppers for my lord your kinsman, More motley than the French, or the Venetian, For hindering of their market. Are. Have you done, sir? Bor. I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe, And prodigal embroideries, under which, And show like bonfires on you by the tapers: Are. Pray, do. I like Your homily of thrift. Bor. I could wish, madam, You would not game so much. Are. A gamester, too! Bor. But are not come to that repentance yet, Are. Good, proceed. Bor. Another game you have, which consumes more Some darks had been discover'd; and the deeds too; 'Tis not enough to clear ourselves, but the Are. Have you concluded Your lecture? Bor. I have done; and howsoever My language may appear to you, it carries To your delights, without curb to their modest Are. I'll not be so tedious In my reply, but, without art or elegance, To have my pleasures circumscribed and taught me. [This dialogue is in the very spirit of the recriminating scenes between Lord and Lady Townley in the Provoked Husband. It is difficult to believe, but it must have been Vanbrugh's prototype.] LETTER TO THE EDITOR. DEAR SIR, It is not unknown to you, that about nineteen years since I published "Specimens of English Dramatic Poets, who lived about the time of Shakspeare." For the scarcer Plays I had recourse to the collection bequeathed to the British Museum by Mr. Garrick. But my time was but short, and my subsequent leisure has discovered in it a treasure rich and exhaustless beyond what I then imagined. In it is to be found almost every production in the shape of a Play that has appeared in print, from the time of the old Mysteries and Moralities to the days of Crown and D'Urfey. Imagine the luxury to one like me, who, above every other form of poetry, have ever preferred the Dramatic, of sitting in the princely apartments, for such they are, of poor condemned Montagu House, which I predict will not speedily be followed by a handsomer, and culling at will the flower of some thousand Dramas. It is like having the range of a Nobleman's Library, with the Librarian to your friend. Nothing can exceed the courteousness and attentions of the Gentleman who has the chief direction of the Reading Rooms here; and you have scarce to ask for a volume, before it is laid before you. If the occasional Extracts which I have been tempted to bring away, may find an appropriate place in your Table Book, some of them are weekly at your service. By those who remember the "Specimens," these must be considered as mere after-gleanings, supplementary to that work, only comprising a longer period. You must be content with sometimes a scene, sometimes a song; a speech, or passage, or a poetical image, as they happen to strike me. I read without order of time; I am a poor hand at dates; and for any biography of the Dramatists, I must refer to writers who are more skilful in such matters. My business is with their poetry only. Your well-wisher, January 27, 1827. C. LAMB. |