PREFACE.

AS the Entertainments of our Theatres are publick, and ſupported by publick Authority, it is but juſt that the Inſtruction, which is the ultimate end of them, ſhould tend to the publick Advantage. 'Tis true, indeed, the Stage, by correcting particular Perſons, has a natural tendency to the improving the Publick. But when, I ſay, that the Publick ought to receive Advantage from the Entertainments of our Thea⯑tres, I mean, that it ought to do ſo immediately, and that the In⯑ſtructions which we receive from the Stage ought to be for the Be⯑nefit of the lawful eſtabliſh'd Government.

That this was the Caſe among the Athenians appears plain to me; and the reaſon why they ſettled ſo vaſt a Fund upon the Tragick Stage, was becauſe they regarded it as the very Barrier of Liberty, which it ſupported by expoſing the Misfortunes of Ty⯑rants, and the Calamities that attended upon Arbitrary Pow'r. And it ſeems to me to be for this reaſon that they had that high Eſteem for Oedipus, and were at ſo uncommon an Expence in the Decoration of it, becauſe both the Crimes and the Calamities of Oe⯑dipus were the Conſequences of his aſſuming unlimited Pow'r. 'Tis true, he kill'd his Father before he came to be King, but it was by aſcending the Throne that he committed Inceſt, and that he came to the knowledge of what he had done; and had he continued a private Man, he had neither known the Guilt of his Actions, nor had he felt the Puniſhment of them.

As the Athenians had Liberty with a Common-wealth, the Eng⯑liſh enjoy the very ſame Liberty under the Government of the beſt of Queens, and in ſo doing are the happieſt People in the World. I thought therefore that I could not do a thing that would be more acceptable to all true Engliſhmen, than to caſ [...] in my Mite towards the defending and ſupporting of that Liberty.

[] That the Liberties of Europe, and of this Iſland particularly, are in no ſmall Danger at preſent from the growing Power of France, will be eaſily granted by all but ſuch who are either Fools or Knaves too incorrigible to be talk'd too. But this is plain, that they are not ſo much in danger, from what ſome call the Greatneſs of the French, as from the Baſeneſs of the reſt of Eu⯑rope. If we were but as true to Liberty, as the French are to Tyranny, they would ſoon be as deſpicable in their Circumſtances as they are now in their Principles. 'Tis the want of publick Spi⯑rit that ruins us, and the Deſign of this Tragedy is to inculcate that, this being its important Moral; that the want of publick Spirit in the Members of any Community makes not only the publick, but very often thoſe private Perſons who want it▪ very unhappy; that whoeven ſells or betrays his Country either to a foreign Tyrant, as ſome of the Confederates, or to a home-bred one, as the whole Bo⯑dy of the French do; whoever does this upon the account of ad⯑vancing his Family, which is the general Motive to ſuch publick Treaſons, is ſure to have himſelf and his Family ſuffer with the reſt, and perhaps with the foremoſt. And this Moral is prov'd by the Dramatick Action both ways. It ſhews a Man who makes a Treaty with the French upon private Intereſt, made by that Treaty the moſt wretched of Mankind, of the happieſt that he was before; and it ſhews the very Frenchman who breaks it, about to be plung'd by the Breach of it, in the moſt deplorable Calamity; and it ſhews ſomething farther too, that the French, who are the Inſtruments of promoting Tyranny upon a private Intereſt, are ſo only becauſe they are ſo far blinded by their Paſſions, that they know not what they do; that is, they know not that they are ſacrificing to their Tyrant their very Children and Families, for whoſe Support they pretend to act; that if their other Paſſions did not conccal this from them, all of them who have any thing of natural Affection, would be ſo far from being guilty of ſo unnatural a Villany, that they would immediately declare for Liberty.

Some People may perhaps admire, that I who have been accus'd of repeating the ſame thing in the Play, the Prologue and Epilogue, ſhould yet appear to be farther guilty of that very Fault in the Preface. To whom I anſwer, That ſince after all the Care I had taken in the Play, the Prologue and Epilogue, to aſſure the World [] that this was an Engliſh and not a Party Play; there were ſome malicious enough to affirm that this was a Play writ pur⯑poſely to oblige the Whigs, I thought it lay upon me to prove what I had affirm'd before, that this was not a Whig but an Engliſh Play, which I ſhall manifeſtly, I believe, make out, un⯑leſs they will urge, that becauſe it is an Engliſh therefore it is a Whiggiſh Play.

If this Play is writ for a Party, why then it muſt be writ againſt a Party. Now it will be pretty plain from what has been ſaid above, conſidered with the Play it ſelf, that the Deſign of this Tragedy is to make Men in Love with Liberty, by ſhewing them that nothing can be more according to Nature, and by ſhewing this not by ſuch forcible and extra⯑ordinary Arguments as require more than ordinary Penetration to be underſtood, for that has been already done ſo incompara⯑bly by Mr. Lock that nothing need or can be added to it; but by ſomething ſo plain that ev'ry Underſtanding is capable of it, and that is, by the moſt Tender of all Sentiments which Nature has implanted in the Minds of Men, and that is, the Love of their Children. The Party therefore that this Play was writ to oblige, are all thoſe who have any concern for their Country, their Religion, their Relations, their Friends and their Children; and the Party it was writ againſt, are all thoſe who care not one farthing for any or all of theſe. Now I would give a good deal to behold ſo abominable a Wretch as to own himſelf of ſuch a Party.

He who writes for a Party writes for Intereſt; now I would fain ask any one where can be my Intereſt in writing for the Party for which it is ſuppoſed that I write. The firſt thing that I wrote which had relation to the Publick was a Poem call'd The Court of Death, in which I lamented the Death of the late Queen of happy and glorious Memory. And tho' both the Deſign and Spirit of that Poem were thought by ſome of the beſt Judges, to be above the common level of Poetry, yet I was almoſt the only Perſon of all the Writers who appear'd upon that Subject, of whom the Court took no notice. My Friends can bear me Witneſs that I was ſo far from being mortified at it, that I was reſolv'd to perſevere in what I thought my Duty, and of all the foreſaid Writers I was afterwards [] the only Perſon who bewail'd the Death of the late King in the ſame publick manner that I had before lamented that of his Royal Conſort. I had almoſt the ſame Fortune with that Poem that I had with the former: It brought me indeed a little more Repu⯑tation, but juſt as much Advantage.

He who after this could be induc'd to expect any thing from thoſe whom they call the Whigs, muſt be of a more ſanguine Temper than I am. I know indeed that there are a great many People whom they call Whigs, who are really Engliſhmen, and to oblige Engliſhmen I ſhall be always proud, by what Names ſoever they may be diſtin⯑guiſhed; By a real Engliſhman I mean one who is for the preſent Eſtabliſhment, and the Proteſtant Succeſſion, upon the view of the good of his Countrey, and his own no farther than as it depends on the other.

But upon the firſt acting this Tragedy there were not wanting ſome worthy Perſons who made it their Buſineſs to report about the Town that it was a Republican Play. Now to give them an Anſwer to which nothing can be replyed, I have ordered the laſt Scene of the Play to be printed, which on the account of Length was left out in Acting, tho' it yet remains in the Play-houſe-copy. At the ſame time I deſire the Reader to believe, that I am not ſuch a Fool to contend for Names but for Things; that Liberty is Liberty under a limited Monarchy, as much as under a Common-wealth; that we enjoy enough under the preſent Queen to make us the happieſt of People; that I have as high a Venera⯑tion for Her as any Subject She has, and would venture as much to ſerve Her, becauſe I am perfectly convinc'd, that all that She aims at by Her perpetual Care and the Wiſdom of Her Conduct, is to ſup⯑port and defend theſe Liberties which Her glorious Predeceſſour deliver'd to us; and which 'tis the Buſineſs of this Play to aſſert and vindicate. So that the Deſign of this Tragedy being only to pro⯑mote the good Intentions of the Queen, it is more Her Intereſt than it is any Perſons in England that it ſhould make the Impreſ⯑ſion which it was deſign'd to make; tho' I believe it at the ſame time to be the Intereſt of ev'ry Perſon in England, excepting thoſe who are wiſhing for a French Government or contriving to bring it in.

This is not the firſt time that ſince Her Majeſties happy Acceſſion [] to Her Throne I have endeavour'd to ſerve Her. And all the world knows that it is not my Fault that I have not done Her a moſt important Service. ^* Had that been done, there had been no need of writing the following Tragedy. There had been no need of firing People with the Love of Liberty, or animating them a⯑gainſt the common Foe. Had that been done the Liberties of Eu⯑rope and our own had been ſufficiently ſecur'd.

I know very well that the foregoing Declaration is not over politick; that to declare for the Publick againſt Parties is to make no Friends. I am perfectly convinc'd that if I could be brought to eſpouſe any Party warmly, that Party might be brought to eſpouſe me, but that till I make that ſtep I muſt be left to my ſelf; of this, I ſay, I am perfectly convinc'd, and yet not⯑withſtanding that Conviction, I hope in God I ſhall not change my Conduct.

The Succeſs of this Play has been ſo favourable notwithſtanding Malice and ill Accidents; it has had the Felicity of having ſo many illuſtrious Voices for it, that I may ſpare my ſelf the Trouble of anſwering Objections. However, ſince good Manners appear to be concern'd in two of them, I ſhall ſay a word to thoſe.

The firſt is, that there are in this Play National Reflections, which ought not to be made. To which I anſwer, that I plainly perceive that the Art of the following Tragedy is by no means all underſtood. That part of it conſiſts in this, that what ſome mi⯑ſtake for a National Satyr, is only a Satyr upon Arbitrary Power, a Satyr upon the Government of the French, and not upon their Manners as they proceed from their Climate. The French are in them⯑ſelves a brave and a gallant Nation; but the Submiſſion which they fondly pay to unlimited Power has plung'd them in Vices which their Natures abhor, and render'd them odious and deſpicable. To ſhew this, I have introduced the Characters of two Frenchmen, Frontenac and Miramont, who are both of them Men of Honour; but the difference between them is this, that Miramont, who de⯑clares againſt Arbitrary Pow'r, is altogether without Blemiſh, and the Faults and Defects in Frontenac's Character, are plainly deriv'd [] from his Zeal for their preſent Government.

The other Objection is this, that the Satyr in the Ambaſſadors Scene is too courſe for delicate Ears. I know it very well, and in complaiſance to ſome Gentlemen whom I eſteem, I order'd it to be left out after the firſt Night, but I have printed it with the reſt becauſe they who do not like it may turn over it, and becauſe it is likely to be ſubſervient to the end for which this Poem was writ, and that is, to animate our Engliſh againſt the French; for I believe it may not be unacceptable to ſome honeſt downright Engliſhmen, who while we and the French are cutting one anothers Throats, will not take it ill, that we do it without Ceremony.

The Scene of this Tragedy lies at Agnie in Canada; which, for the ſake of the better ſound, I call Angie. Canada is a vaſt Tract of Land in Northern America, on the Back of New England and New York. As New England and New York, and the Coun⯑try about them belong to the Engliſh, a conſiderable part of Ca⯑nada is poſſeſs'd by the French; and as the Engliſh and French divide the Country, they divide the Natives. The moſt conſide⯑rable Nation of Canada, next to the Iroquois, are the Hurons, who are Friends to the French. But the five Warlike Nations of the Iroquois are our Confederates; of thoſe five Nations, Agnies or Angies is one; and the chief Place of the Nation is Agnie or Angie, and thus much I thought fit to premiſe for the Sake of thoſe who have never read either Hennepin or La Hontan.

But now it will be convenient to ſay a word concerning the Scenes as they are mark'd in the printed Play, and here▪ by the word Scene, I do not mean ſo much the Place, as the Number of Perſons who are in Action upon that Place at a time. I have therefore diſtinguiſh'd the Scenes in the following Play, as they have been always diſtinguiſh'd by the Ancients and by the Moderns of other Countries, and by our own Ben. Johnſon. Any Perſon who comes upon the Place of Action, or leaves it, makes a different Scene, and that new Scene is mark'd by the Figure of its reſpe⯑ctive Number, and the Names of the Perſons who are upon the Place of Action. I thought that agreeable Deluſion into which the Reader willingly and gladly enters, for the ſake of his Plea⯑ſure, would be both greater and eaſier if he were not put in mind [] of a Stage by Entrances and Exits, which are nothing but Dire⯑rections that are given to a Play Houſe Prompter.

The Deſign of this Play was much improv'd by the Remonſtrances which I receiv'd from my valued Friend Mr. Southern, who beſides his Zeal to do good to his Friends, and a noble Sincerity, uncommon among the Writers of this Age, by the ex tempore Re⯑marks which he made upon my reading this Play to him in a very haſty manner, ſhew'd at once ſo much penetrating Quickneſs, as well as ſo much Solidity, and ſo much ſureneſs, as could belong to no Man but one who has a thorough Underſtanding of Nature, and who has that admirable Talent for touching the Paſſions which he has ſhewn in his Tragedies. I muſt own the Obligation too which I have to Mr. Betterton for the Hints I received from him, as well as for his excellent Action.

This Play indeed receiv'd all the Grace and Ornament of A⯑ction in moſt of the principal Parts, and in all the Womens. But that of Sakia by Mrs. Barry was acted ſo admirably and inimita⯑bly, as that no Stage in Europe can boaſt of any thing that comes near to her Performance; or if the Foreign Stages can ſhew any thing like it, they are at leaſt prodigiouſly improv'd ſince I was upon the Continent. That incomparable Actreſs changing like Nature which ſhe repreſents, from Paſſion to Paſſion, from Extream to Extream, with piercing Force, and with [...] Grace, changes the Hearts of all who ſee her with irreſiſtible Pleaſure.