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him, in the ostentation of human superiority, a sign | In the midst of these good offices, she would some, of a man killing a lion. Upon which, the lion times play with his hair, and delight in the oppo said very justly, "We lions are none of us paint-sition of its colour to that of her fingers: then open ers, else we could show a hundred men killed by his bosom, then laugh at him for covering it. She lions, for one lion killed by a man." You men was, it seems, a person of distinction, for she every are writers, and can represent us women as unbe- day came to him in a different dress, of the most coming as you please in your works, while we are beautiful shells, bugles, and bredes. She likewise unable to return the injury. You have twice or brought him a great many spoils, which her other thrice observed in your discourse, that hypocrisy lovers had presented to her, so that his cave was is the very foundation of our education; and that richly adorned with all the spotted skins of beasts, an ability to dissemble our affections is a professed and most party-coloured feathers of fowls, which part of our breeding. These, and such other re- that world afforded. To make his continement flections, are sprinkled up and down the writings more tolerable, she would carry him in the dusk' of all ages, by authors, who leave behind them of the evening, or by the favour of moon-light, to" memorials of their resentment against the scorn of unfrequented groves and solitudes, and show him particular women, in invectives against the whole where to lie down in safety, and sleep amidst the sex. Such a writer, I doubt not, was the cele- falls of waters and melody of nightingales. Her brated Petronius, who invented the pleasant ag- part was to watch and hold him awake in her gravations of the frailty of the Ephesian lady; arms, for fear of her countrymen, and wake him but when we consider this question between the on occasions to consult his safety. In this manner sexes, which has been either a point of dispute or did the lovers pass away their time, till they had raillery, ever since there were men and women, learned a language of their own, in which the let us take facts from plain people, and from such voyager communicated to his mistress, how happy as have not either ambition, or capacity to em- he should be to have her in his country, where she bellish their narrations with any beauties of ima- should be clothed in such silks as his waistcoat was gination. I was the other day amusing myself made of, and be carried in houses drawn by horses, with Ligon's' Account of Barbadoes *; and, in ar- without being exposed to wind or weather. All swer to your well-wrought tale, I will give you this he promised her the enjoyment of, without (as it dwells upon my memory) out of that honest such fears and alarms as they were there tormented traveller, in his fifty-fifth page, the history of with. In this tender correspondence these lovers Inkle and Yarico. lived for several months, when Yarico, instructed by her lover, discovered a vessel on the coast, to which she made signals; and in the night, with the utmost joy and satisfaction, accompanied himm to a ship's crew of his countrymes, bound for Barbadoes. When a vessel from the main arrives in that island, it seems, the planters come down to the shore, where there is an immediate market of the Indians and other slaves, as with us of horses and
"Mr. Thomas Inkle, of London, aged twenty years, embarked in the Downs, in the good ship called the Achilles, bound for the West Indies, on the 16th of June, 1647, in order to improve his fortune by trade and merchandise. Our adventurer was the third son of an eminent citizen, who had taken particular care to instil into his mind an early love of gain, by making him a perfect master of numbers, and consequently giving him a quick view of loss and advantage, and preventing the natural impulses of his passion, by prepossession towards his interests. With a mind thus turned, young Inkle had a person every way agreeable, a ruddy vigour in his countenance, strength in his limbs, with ringlets of fair hair loosely flowing on his shoulders. It happened, in the course of the voyage, that the Achilles, in some distress, put into a creek on the main of America, in search of provisions. The youth who is the hero of my story, among others, went on shore on this occasion. From their first landing they were observed by a party of Indians, who hid themselves in the woods for that purpose. The English unadvisedly marched a great distance from the shore into the country, and were intercepted by the natives, who slew the greatest number of them. Our adventurer escaped, among others, by flying into a forest. Upon his coming into a remote and pathless part of the wood, he threw himself, tired and breathless, on a little hillock, when an Indian maid rushed from a thicket behind him. After the first surprise, they appeared mutually agreeable to each other. If N° 12. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 1710-11. the European was highly charmed with the limbs, features, and wild graces of the naked American; the American was no less taken with the dress, complexion, and shape of an European, covered from head to foot. The Indian grew immediately enamoured of him, and consequently solicitous for his preservation. She therefore conveyed him to a cave, where she gave him a delicious repast of fruits, and led him to a stream to slake his thirst. * A true and exact History of Barbadoes, &c. by Richard Ligon, gent. fol. 1673.
"To be short, Mr. Thomas Inkle, now coming into English territories, began seriously to reflect upon his loss of time, and to weigh with himself how many days interest of his money he had lost during his stay with Yarico. This thought made the young man pensive, and careful what account he should be able to give his friends of his voyage. Upon which consideration, the prudent and frugal young man sold Yarico to a Barbadian merchant ; notwithstanding that the poor girl, to incline him to commiserate her condition, told him that she was with child by him; but he only made use of that information, to rise in his demands upon the purchaser."
I was so touched with this story (which I think should be always a counterpart to the Ephesian Matron) that I left the room with tears in my eyes, which a woman of Arietta's good sense did, I am sure, take for greater applause, than any compliments I could make her. STEELE.
Veteres avias tibi de pulmone revello.
PERS. Sat. v. 92.
I root th' old woman from thy trembling heart. Ar my coming to London, it was some time before I could settle myself in a house to my liking. I was forced to quit my first lodgings by reason of an officious landlady, that would be asking me every morning how I had slept. I then fell into an honest family, and lived very happily for above a week; when my landlord, who was a jolly good
ook it into his head that I wanted | am mistaken if he ventures to go to bed by himtherefore would frequently come self this twelvemonth. Indeed they talked so er, to keep me from being alone. long, that the imaginations of the whole assembly two or three days; but telling me were manifestly crazed, and, I am sure, will be was afraid I was melancholy, I the worse for it as long as they live. I heard one high time for me to be gone, and of the girls, that had looked upon me over her knew lodgings that very night. | shoulder, asking the company how long I had been after, I found my jolly landlord, in the room, and whether I did not look paler before, was an honest hearty man, than I used to do. This put me under some apto an advertisement of the Daily prehensions that I should be forced to explain myfollowing words: Whereas a me- self, if I did not retire; for which reason I took ft his lodgings on Thursday last in the candle in my hand, and went up into my and was afterwards seen going to- chamber, not without wondering at this unaccount: if any one can give notice of able weakness in reasonable creatures, that they hmonger in the Strand, he shall be should love to astonish and terrify one another. for his pains.' As I am the best Were I a father, I should take a particular care d to keep my own counsel, and my to preserve my children from these little horrors shmonger not knowing my name, and imaginations, which they are apt to contract my life was never discovered to when they are young, and are not able to shake off when they are in years. I have known a solttled with a widow woman, who dier that has entered a breach, affrighted at his y children, and complies with my own shadow, and look pale upon a little scratchthing. I do not remember that ing at his door, who the day before had marched inged a word together these five up against a battery of cannon. There are inee comes into my chamber every stances of persons who have been terrified, even it asking for it; if I want fire I to distraction, at the figure of a tree, or the shaking nney, if water to my bason; upon of a bullrush. The truth of it is, I look upon a lady nods, as much as to say she sound imagination as the greatest blessing of life, ng, and immediately obeys my sig- next to a clear judgment and a good conscience. likewise modelled her family so In the mean time, since there are very few whose her little boy offers to pull me by minds are not more or less subject to these dreadttle in my face, his eldest sister im- ful thoughts and apprehensions, we ought to arm him off, and bids him not disturb ourselves against them by the dictates of reason At my first entering into the fa- and religion, to pull the old woman out of our bled with the civility of their rising hearts,' (as Persius expresses it in the motto of my time I came into the room; but paper), and extinguish those impertinent notions serving, that upon these occasions which we imbibed at a time that we were not Pish, and went out again, has for- able to judge of their absurdity. Or if we believe, ceremony to be used in the kouse; as many wise and good men have done, that there at I walk into the kitchen or par- are such phantoms and apparitions as those I have ing taken notice of, or giving any been speaking of, let us endeavour to establish to the business or discourse of the ourselves an interest in him who holds the reins aid will ask her mistress (though I of the whole creation in his hands, and moderates the gentleman is ready to go to them after such a manner, that it is impossible for istress (who is indeed an excellent one being to break loose upon another, without s at the servants as heartily before his knowledge and permission. nd my back. In short, I move up puse, and enter into all companies iberty as a cat, or any other dond am as little suspected of telling bear or see.
st winter there were several young ghbourhood sitting about the fire y's daughters, and telling stories of aritions. Upon my opening the women broke off their discourse, y's daughters telling them that it it the gentleman (for that is the by in the neighbourhood as well as hey went on without minding me. f by the candle that stood on a of the room; and pretending to I took out of my pocket, heard stories of ghosts, as pale as ashes, at the feet of a bed, or walked ard by moon-light: and of others onjured into the Red-sea, for disrest, and drawing their curtains h many other old women's fables re. As one spirit raised another, I the end of every story the whole their ranks, and crowded about k notice in particular of a little o attentive to every story, that I
For my own part, I am apt to join in opinion with those who believe that all the regions of nature swarm with spirits; and that we have multitudes of spectators on all our actions, when we think ourselves most alone: but instead of terrifying myself with such a notion, I am wonderfully pleased to think that I am always engaged with such an innumerable society, in searching out the wonders of the creation, and joining in the same consort of praise and adoration.
Milton has finely described this mixed communion of men and spirits in Paradise; and had doubtless his eye upon a verse in old Hesiod, which is almost word for word the same with his third line in the following passage:
Nor think, though men were none,
* In his Paradise Lost.
N° 13. THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 1710-11.
Dic mihi, si fueris tu leo, qualis eris?
Were you a lion, how wou'd you behave ' THERE is nothing that of late years has afforded matter of greater amusement to the town than Signior Nicolini's combat with a lion in the Haymarket, which has been very often exhibited to the general satisfaction of most of the nobility and gentry in the kingdom of Great Britain. Upon the first rumour of this intended combat, it was confidently affirmed, and is still believed, by many in both galleries, that there would be a tame lion sent from the Tower every opera night, in order to be killed by Hydaspes; this report, though altogether groundless, so universally prevailed in the upper regions of the playhouse, that some of the most refined politicians in those parts of the audience, gave it out in whisper, that the lion was a cousin-german of the tiger who made his appearance in King William's days, and that the stage would be supplied with lions at the public expense, during the whole session. Many likewise were the conjectures of the treatment which this lion was to meet with from the hands of Signior Nicolini; some supposed that he was to subdue him in recitativo, as Orpheus used to serve the wild beasts in his time, and afterwards to knock him on the head; some fancied that the lion would not pretend to lay his paws upon the hero, by reason of the received opinion, that a lion will not hurt a virgin. Several, who pretended to have seen the opera in Italy, had informed their friends, that the lion was to act a part in High Dutch, and roar twice or thrice to a thorough-bass, before he fell at the feet of Hydaspes. To clear up a matter that was so variously reported, I have made it my business to examine whether this pretended lion is really the savage he appears to be, or only a counterfeit.
But before I communicate my discoveries, I must acquaint the reader, that upon my walking behind the scenes last winter, as I was thinking on something else, I accidentally justled against a monstrous animal that extremely startled me, and, upon my nearer survey of it, appeared to be a lion rampant. The lion seeing me very much surprised, told me, in a gentle voice, that I might come by him if I pleased; for,' says he, I do not intend to hurt any body.' I thanked him very kindly, and passed by him: and in a little time after saw him leap upon the stage, and act his part with very great applause. It has been observed by several, that the lion has changed his manner of acting twice or thrice since his first appearance; which will not seem strange, when I acquaint my reader that the lion has been changed upon the audience three several times. The first lion was a candle-snuffer, who, being a fellow of a testy choleric temper, overdid his part, and would not suffer himself to be killed so easily as he ought to have done; beside, it was observed of him, that he grew more surly every time he came out of the lion; and having dropped some words in ordinary 'conversation, as if he had not fought his best, and that he suffered himself to be thrown upon his back in the scuffle, and that he would wrestle with Mr. Nicolini for what he pleased, out of his lion's skin, it
* See N° 405; and Tat. N° 115.
was thought proper to discard him: and it is verily believed, 'to this day, that had he been brought upon the stage another time, he would certainly have done mischief. Besides, it was objected against the first lion, that he reared himself so high upon his hinder paws, and walked in so erect a posture, that he looked more like an old man than a lion.
The second lion was a tailor by trade, who belonged to the playhouse, and had the character of a mild and peaceable man in his profession. If the former was too furious, this was too sheepish for his part; insomuch, that after a short modes walk upon the stage, he would fall at the first touch of Hydaspes, without grappling with him. and giving him an opportunity of showing his variety of Italian trips. It is said, indeed, that he once gave him a rip in his flesh-colour doublet but this was only to make work for himself, in his private character of a tailor. I must not omit tha it was this second lion who treated me with so much humanity behind the scenes.
The acting lion at present is, as I am informed. a country gentleman, who does it for his diversion. but desires his name may be concealed. He says very handsomely, in his own excuse, that he doe not act for gain; that he indulges an innocen pleasure in it; and that it is better to pass away an evening in this manner than in gaming and drinking: but at the same time says, with a very agreeable raillery upon himself, that if his name should be known, the ill-natured world might call him, the ass in the lion's skin.' This gentle man's temper is made out of such a happy mixture of the mild and the choleric, that he outdoes both his predecessors, and has drawn together greate audiences than have been known in the memory of man.
I must not conclude my narrative, without taking notice of a groundless report that has been raised to a gentleman's disadvantage, of whom I must declare myself an admirer; namely, that Signio Nicolini and the lion have been seen sitting peace ably by one another, and smoking a pipe together behind the scenes; by which their enemies would insinuate, that it is but a sham combat which they represent upon the stage: but upon inquiry I find that if any such correspondence has passed betwee them, it was not till the combat was over, wher the lion was to be looked upon as dead, according to the received rules of the drama. Besides this i what is practised every day in Westminster-hall where nothing is more usual than to see a coupl of lawyers, who have been tearing each other t pieces in the court, embracing one another as soon as they are out of it.
I would not be thought, in any part of this rela tion, to reflect upon Signior Nicolini, who in act ing this part only complies with the wretched tast of his audience; he knows very well, that the lio has many more admirers than himself; as they sa of the famous equestrian statue on the Pont-Neu at Paris, that more people go to see the horse tha the king who sits upon it. On the contrary, gives me a just indignation to see a person whos action gives new majesty to kings, resolution t heroes, and softness to lovers, thus sinking from the greatness of his behaviour, and degraded int the character of a London 'Prentice. I have ofte wished, that our tragedians would copy after thi great master in action. Could they make the sam use of their arms and legs, and inform their face with as significant looks and passions, how gloriou would an English tragedy appear with that actio
of giving dignity to the forced | warning of my bell, morning and evening, to go
often been reproached by writers ss of their taste: but our present ot seem to be the want of a good mon sense. C..
DAY, MARCH 16, 1710-11.
Infelix, exue monstris.
OVID. Met. iv. 590. u art! put off this monstrous shape.
this morning upon the spirit and ublic diversions five and twenty hose of the present time; and laf, that, though in those days they orality, they kept up their good he beau-monde, at present, is only dish, not more innocent, than the I was in this train of thought, an e face I have often seen at the me the following letter with these Lion presents his humble service red me to give this into your own
my den in the Haymarket, March 15. l your papers, and have stifled gainst your reflections upon operas, is day, wherein you plainly insiior Nicolini and myself have a more friendly than is consistent of his character, or the fierceness re you would, for your own sake, mations for the future; and must piece of ill-nature in you, to show m for a foreigner, and to discouis your own countryman. ce of your fable of the lion and equally concerned in that matter, be offended to whichsoever of the riority is given. You have misresaying that I am a country genonly for my diversion; whereas, same woods to range in which I I was a fox-hunter, I should not od for a maintenance; and assure by circumstances are at present, I an of honour, that I would scorn for bread, but a lion.
er ended this, than one of my landbrought me in several others, with shall make up my present paper, tendency to the same subject, viz. our present diversions.
'Covent-Garden, March 13.
for twenty years under-sexton of Paul's, Covent-Garden, and have ng in to prayers six times in all ich office i have performed to my , until this fortnight last past, he I find my congregation take the
* See No 11.
'I desire you would lay this before all the world,
The following epistle I find is from the under-
'I HAVE observed the rules of my mask so care-
On the first of April will be performed, at the playhouse in the Haymarket, an opera called The
little Piazza in Covent-Garden, being at present
First, therefore, I cannot but observe, that Mr. Powell wisely forbearing to give his company a bill of fare beforehand, every scene is new and anexpected; whereas it is certain, that the undertakers of the Haymarket, having raised too great an expectation in their printed opera, very much disappoint their audience on the stage.
N. B. The scene, wherein Thyestes eats his own children, is to be performed by the famous Mr. Psalmanazar, lately arrived from Formosa: the whole supper being sel to kettle-drums.
No 15. SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 1710-11.
Parva leves capiunt animos ·
OVID. Ars Am. i. 159 Light minds are pleas'd with trifles.
The King of Jerusalem is obliged to come from the city on foot, instead of being drawn in a triumphant chariot by white horses, as my opera-book had promised me; and thus, while I expected WHEN I was in France, I used to gaze with great Armida's dragons should rush forward towards Argentes, I found the hero was obliged to go to astonishment at the splendid equipages and partyArmida, and hand her out of her coach. We had coloured habits of that fantastic nation. I was one also but a very short allowance of thunder and day in particular contemplating a lady that sat in lightning; though I cannot in this place omit doing a coach adorned with gilded Cupids, and finely justice to the boy who had the direction of the painted with the loves of Venus and Adonis. The two painted dragons, and made them spit fire and coach was drawn by six milk-white horses, and smoke. He flashed out his rosin in such just pro-loaded behind with the same number of powdered portions, and in such due time, that I could not footmen. Just before the lady were a couple of forbear conceiving hopes of his being one day a beautiful pages, that were stuck among the harmost excellept player. I saw, indeed, but two ness, and by their gay dresses and smiling features, things wanting to render his whole action com- looked like the elder brothers of the little boys plete, I mean the keeping his head a little lower, that were carved and painted in every corner of and hiding his candle.
I observe that Mr. Powell and the undertakers The lady was the unfortunate Cleanthe, who of the opera had both the same thought, and I afterwards gave an occasion to a pretty melan think much about the same time, of introducing choly novel. She had for several years received animals on their several stages, though indeed with the addresses of a gentleman, whom, after a long very different success. The sparrows and chaf- and intimate acquaintance, she forsook, upon the finches at the Haymarket, fly as yet very irregu- account of this shining equipage, which had been larly over the stage; and instead of perching on offered to her by one of great riches, but a crazy the trees, and performing their parts, these young constitution. The circumstances in which I saw actors either get into the galleries, or put out the her were, it seems, the disguises only of a broken candles'; whereas Mr. Powell has so well disci- heart, and a kind of pageantry to cover distress; plined his pig, that in the first scene he and Punch for in two months after she was carried to her dance a minuet together. I am informed, how-grave with the same pomp and magnificence; beever, that Mr. Powell resolves to excel bis adversaries in their own way; and introduce larks in his next opera of Susannah, or Innocence Betrayed, which will be exhibited next week, with a pair of
The moral of Mr. Powell's drama is violated, I confess, by Punch's national reflections on the French, and king Harry's laying his leg upon the queen's lap, in too ludicrous a manner before so great an assembly.
As to the mechanism and scenery, every thing, indeed, was uniform, and of a-piece, and the scenes were managed very dexterously; which calls on me to take notice, that at the Haymarket, the undertakers forgetting to change the side-scenes, we were presented with a prospect of the ocean in the midst of a delightful grove; and though the gentlemen on the stage had very much contributed to the beauty of the grove, by walking up and down between the trees, I must own I was not a little astonished to see a well-dressed young fellow, in a full-bottomed wig, appear in the midst of the sea, and without any visible concern taking
I shall only observe one thing further, in which both dramas agree; which is, that by the squeak of their voices the heroes of each are eunuchs; and as the wit in both pieces is equal, I must prefer the performance of Mr. Powell, because it is in our own language. 'I am, &c.'
ing sent thither partly by the loss of one lover, and partly by the possession of another.
I have often reflected with myself on this unac countable humour in womankind, of being mitten with every thing that is showy and superficial; and on the numberless evils that befal the sex from this light fantastical disposition. I myself remember a young lady that was very warmly solicited by a couple of importunate rivals, who, for several months together, did all they could to recommend themselves, by complacency of behaviour and agreeAt length, when the ableness of conversation. competition was doubtful, and the lady undetermined in her choice, one of the young lovers very luckily bethought himself of adding a supernume rary lace to his liveries, which had so good an effect that he married her the very week after.
The usual conversation of ordinary women very much cherishes this natural weakness of being taken with outside and appearance. Talk of a new-married couple, and you immediately hear whether they keep their coach and six, or eat in plate. Mention the name of an absent lady, and it is ten to one but you learn something of her gown and petticoat. A ball is a great help to discourse, and a birth-day furnishes conversation for a twelvemonth after. A furbelow of precious stones, an hat buttoned with a diamond, a brocade waistcoat
*For an account of this singular character, see the Gentleman's Magazine, vols. xxxiv. xxxv.