PREFACE.

THE very favourable reception with which the Pieces I have preſented to the Stage, have been honoured by the Public, has given them the appearance of great ſucceſs; and it is pro⯑bable that thoſe who were witneſſes of their reception, will be ſurpriſed to find this Tragedy prefaced by complaints of hard⯑ſhip and injury, and to know that it has been productive of a train of mortifications and diſappointments to its Author.

It is with the utmoſt reluctance that I feel myſelf compelled to enter into the diſagreeable circumſtances which preceded the re⯑preſentation. This is however neceſſary, as I now preſent a Tra⯑gedy, which I preſume to call original, to the cooler inſpec⯑tion of the Reader, though I know that the principal circum⯑ſtances of the plot, and the leading traits of character, have appeared in other Plays, previous to the repreſentation of this.

The idea of writing for the Stage ſtruck me by mere accident, and the Runaway was my firſt literary attempt of any kind. I am as ready, as the ſevereſt Critic can wiſh, to admit that it has all the crudeneſs of a firſt attempt. It ſucceeded however, on the Stage, far beyond my moſt ſanguine expectations; and during its run, which was ſtopped by the Benefits, was one of the moſt profitable Plays, both to the Author and Manager, that appears on the records of the Treaſury-books at either Houſe.—A ſucceſs ſo encouraging opened a new proſpect of advantage to my Family, which I have ſince purſued with alacrity; but this ſucceſs cloſed with the unfortunate period in which Mr. Garrick reſigned the management of Drury-Lane.

When Mr. Sheridan obtained a ſhare of the Patent, I flattered myſelf that I had ſome right to his attention, as Author of the laſt piece which was produced by his able Predeceſſor; but the firſt Winter in which he commenced the management, my Comedy, to uſe the technical term, was ſhelf'd. The vanity of a young Author was piqued; and I wrote to Mr. Sheridan, in the civileſt terms I could, to remonſtrate on the occaſion; but of my letter not the leaſt notice was taken. As I was not then informed of Mr. Sheridan's general neglect of letters, I conſidered this ſlight as a particular inſult to me, eſpecially as the Comedy was not played again that year, but by command of their Majeſties, and for the benefit of Performers. I therefore ſelt myſelf under a [] neceſſity of preſenting my Tragedy at Covent-Garden; but, as I had ſome reaſon to dread Mr. Harris's opinions, it was preſented to him, in the Summer of 1777, by a Lady of Rank, with the name and ſex of the Author concealed. After ſeveral weeks of anxious expectation, it was returned, peremptorily rejected. I then waited on him, and avowed the unfortunate Piece, but had little reaſon to flatter myſelf with the circumſtances of my re⯑ception: Mr. Harris to d me, that there was no hope from alte⯑ration; that the Play was unfit for the Stage, and that he was convinced it never could be made fit: he diſliked the whole idea of Gondibert's ſituation; and thought every incident of the Fifth Act inadmiſſible, as he believed no audience would hear it. The laſt part of this opinion ſurpriſed me, as I had conceived the Fifth Act was the principal ſtrength of the Piece; but I was compelled to ſubmit: Nor is its rejection the injury of which I complain; had the aſhes of my Tragedy reſted undiſturbed, I might have mourned over them; but I would have mourned in ſilence.

The Tragedy of Percy was ſoon after announced. I attended its repreſentation with anxious curioſity, at this Play had been approved by that judgement which had decided ſo ſeverely on mine. At the opening of the Piece, I was much concerned to ſee an old Engliſh ſtory attempted, though it bore little reſem⯑blance to the legendary tales of Percy and Douglas; and that ſo much was ſaid of Chivalry, and of expeditions to the Holy Land—circumſtances which, though finely calculated for the Stage, had been much neglected by our Poets, in favour of the tales of Greek and Roman antiquity. Yet, as the Cruſades are common hiſto⯑rical facts, I could only conſider my being in ſome meaſure anticipated, as unfortunate. But I can hardly deſcribe my aſtoniſhment, or diſtreſs, when I ſaw Raby, the Father of the Heroine, appear in almoſt the ſame ſituation with Weſtmoreland; and reſent his Son-in-law's imputation on the honour of his Daughter, in a train of ideas exactly ſimilar to thoſe which I had given to the Father of Adina; and that he even ſpoke ſe⯑veral lines nearly verbatim; which will be found on comparing the two Tragedies.

I learnt from the Papers of next day, that Percy was a Tranſla⯑tion from a Tragedy called Gabrielle de Vergy, written by M. Belloy. I was ſoon after informed, by perſons who had read the original, (for I am unacquainted with the language) that in M. Belley's Tragedy there is no Father. I had remarked, indeed, during the repreſentation, that Raby ſeemed to have no connection with the plot; he was out of the way during all the buſineſs of the Play, and returned juſt time enough to challenge the defamer of his Daughter, and to call himſelf her Champion; which however neither introduces, nor retards a ſingle event,

[iii] Various were my conjectures on this occaſion; but prudence ſuggeſted a cautious ſilence, as I had ſtill hopes at Drury-Lane. Mr. Sheridan received me infi [...]itely better than I expected, and regretted that I had not brought my Piece before, as Mr. Jephſon and Mr. Craddock had each a Tragedy promiſed for the next Win⯑ter, (1778-9) which muſt put it off another Seaſon; but aſſured me, in the moſt explicit terms, that no other Tragedy ſhould come be⯑fore it, provided it was proper for the Stage; which, he added in a very polite manner, he had no doubt of. He ſoon after received my Farce of Who's the Dupe? with equal frankneſs, and promiſed that it ſhould be brought out in the beſt part of the Seaſon, as ſome recompence for the delay of my Tragedy. More than ſatisfied, happy with my proſpects, I had only to re⯑gret that I had miſapprehended his neglect of my letter, and cauſed myſelf ſo many uneaſy hours.

The Law of Lombardy was ſoon after put into Rehearſal, and I learnt, with great ſurpriſe, that it bore a reſemblance to Albina in the conduct of the Piece, though not in the Story or Cha⯑racters. I was greatly alarmed at the idea of more anticipation; which, whether accidental or otherwiſe, was deſtructive of every proſpect of reputation or advantage to me. This reſemblance was mentioned to Mr. Sheridan; and I thought myſelf happy when, by his interpoſition, Mr. Harris was prevailed on to read the Tragedy, on the ſuggeſtion that ſome alteration had been made; and they acknowledged that, if both Pieces were entitled to the Stage, the only means of doing juſtice to both, was to bring them out, at the ſame time, at different Houſes; otherwiſe the novelty of one of them muſt be deſtroyed—and the idea of Rival Tragedies might be as advantageous as that of Rival Actors had been on ſome particular occaſions. This matter, of very anxious expectation, was ſuſpended near a month, as Mr. Sheridan met with great difficulty in finding the Copy of the Tragedy. In the mean-time, the ſpeaking Pantomime of the Touchſtone was brought out; and, as I was then in great good-humour with Mr. Harris, I had a pleaſure in endeavouring to ſuggeſt ſome uſeful alterations, and was happy when he accepted the new ſcene of Lady Faſhion's Rout, which I conſidered as an earneſt that he intended to accept the Tragedy. Mr. Sheridan at length found Albina, and I at⯑tended him by appointment. On this occaſion I waited three hours, (which was rather longer than he had ever made me wait before): he came at length with the Tragedy in his hand; and I feel myſelf too much flattered by what he then ſaid, to omit it, whatever length it may add to my tale.

He made a thouſand apologies, (and in apologies for negli⯑gence Mr. Sheridan is remarkably eaſy and ſucceſsful) but ſaid he had brought the beſt in his hand, which was my Tra⯑gedy, ſaying, ‘"I have now read every word of it. I was de⯑termined [iv] not to ſee you 'till I had; and this it is that has kept me ſo long. Before I enter into particulars, I will tell you that I think your Tragedy a very good one; it will do you much honour, and be of ſervice to the Theatre."’On my acknowledgements, he added, ‘"Upon my word, I really think what I ſay; and, without a compliment, I am ſurpriſed that ſuch a Tragedy could have been refuſed. Mr. Harris muſt have ſeen it when his head was full of other buſineſs: if he had read it attentively, he could not have refuſed it. This Tra⯑gedy has a right to the Stage: it muſt and ſhall be done."’

The Tragedy was then opened, and Mr. Sheridan ſhewed me ſeveral indentings againſt lines which he wiſhed me to conſider. He ſaid the Characters were very ſtrongly drawn, and the Story intereſting; and frequently pointed out paſſages, which, on account of the Poetry, or the Thought, he was pleaſed to admire. The only objection of importance was, that he thought Gondibert ſhould not ſee, or mention, the Bridal Bed, in the laſt Scene: but, on my attempting a timorous defence, he added, ‘"Don't alter this, or any other paſſage, unleſs it ſtrikes you as it does me; you ought to be tenacious: every original Writer muſt give up paſſages with difficulty: it is only Tranſlators, and Borrowers, who are ſo ready to comply with every hint that is propoſed."’

The judgement pronounced by Mr. Sheridan made me par⯑ticularly happy, as Mr. Harris had promiſed, the ſame morning, that he would be guided by Mr. Sheridan's opinion, who ſaid he would give the Tragedy to Mr. Harris himſelf, and tell him what he thought of it. This was adding favour to favour; and my thanks, I believe, ſufficiently expreſſed my ſentiments.

Mr. Harris, a few days afterwards, took my Tragedy, as he imagined, into the country; but, on opening it, found that Mr. Sheridan had, by miſtake, given him a Comedy. This occa⯑ſioned another week's ſuſpence: it was then however obtained and read; and I had ſcarce a doubt, conſidering every circum⯑ſtance, that it would be put into immediate Rehearſal.

All my hopes were however confounded by Mr. Harris's per⯑ſevering with inflexible ſteadineſs in his former opinion. He ſaid, there had been no material alterations, (which was certainly true;) and that it was ſtill his opinion, that the Tragedy could never be made fit for the Stage. When he was reminded that Mr. Sheridan entertained a very different opinion of it, he re⯑plied, ‘"I don't believe he has read it: he may have dipped into it; but I am convinced he has not read it through."’ This was afterwards diſcuſſed in the preſence of both, when Mr. Sheridan aſſured Mr. Harris that he had read the whole, and that it was his opinion it ought to be done; but Mr. Harris remained inflexible.

[v] When I next ſaw Mr. Sheridan, it was on the ſubject of my Farce. He obſerved me diſpirited, and kindly taking my hand, ſaid, ‘"Never mind 'em; you and I will ſhew that we know a good Tragedy."’

This Farce Mr. Harris had offered to take, and put into im⯑mediate Rehearſal; but, as I had then no doubt of its being played in an advantageous part of the ſeaſon at Drury-Lane, I had no inducement to change the Houſe for which it was in⯑tended. Who's the Dupe, however, in conſequence of repeated breaches of appointments and promiſes, was not produced till the middle of the Benefits, when it could not have a regular run; and I was then to pay an Hundred Guineas (Thirty of which had been added by the preſent Managers) for the chance of a Bene⯑fit, at a time when the current buſineſs of the Theatre would not produce that Sum.

The pecuniary diſappointment I did not conſider as material in this inſtance, as I hoped that the applauſe with which the Farce was uniformly received, would have put an end to the difficulty of getting my Pieces on the Stage, which was infinitely more harraſſing to my mind than the labour of producing them. I was however ſoon after greatly hurt, to hear that Mr. Sheridan evaded the ſubject when it was accidentally men [...]ioned, and adviſed me to write a Comedy.—It was neceſſary, for this purpoſe, that I ſhould have ſome Comic ideas; and they were all completely driven from my mind by the vexations I had undergone. I had indeed made ſome progreſs in writing a Piece founded on Turkiſh manners, the Scene of which is laid in Aſia, and ſlattered myſelf with ſucceſs from the novelty of the attempt; but it lies, and muſt lie, in its preſent ſtate, till I have reaſon to believe it will meet with a fair and candid reception from the Theatres.

Mr. Craddock's Tragedy was then preparing for rehearſal, and the parts given out; but another Play of Miſs More's was diſ⯑covered to be nearly finiſhed; and Mr. Harris was ſo eager to bring it out, though it was then near the concluſion of the ſeaſon, that ſhe has ſaid he would hardly give her time to finiſh it. There was only one capital Actreſs at either Houſe, who would undertake a new part in May; and, though ſhe belonged to Drury-Lane, ſhe was caſt in Miſs More's Pray at Covent-Garden, in conſequence of the levelling power of the Coalition; and Mr. Craddock's Play was put off 'till next ſeaſon.

Another Play by Miſs More alarmed me greatly. The terror of ſuffering again what I had felt at Percy, induced me to write to her in much agitation; a d I am ſorry that I was prevented f [...]om ſending that Letter, and induced to believe it was impoſſible that the ſame palpable reſemblance could again happen. Under this conviction I attended the repreſentation, and heard with aſtoniſh⯑ment, [vi] what appeared to me to be every eſſential circumſtance in the Plot, and Character, of my Play; and to obſerve, that it was changed principally in thoſe places which had been objected to in mine. In Orlando, as in Gond [...]bert, the action ſprings from Love, which took its riſe in a ſituation wherein Hope was im⯑poſſible; though the object is changed, from the Widow of his Brother, to the betrothed Miſtreſs of his Friend.

The character and offices of Editha were given, though the ſex was changed. From the ſame motive of aggrandizing his fortune, though without the ſame ſtimulus of a degraded ſituation, he worms himſelf into the conſidence of the deſpairing Lover, and perſuades him that he is ſecretly beloved by Iſabella, whilſt ſhe receives the addreſſes of another. Orlando breaks into a rhapſody ſimilar to that of Gondibert, perſuades himſelf he had ſeen many proofs of that concealed paſſion, and gives himſelf up to the guidance of his artful Counſellor; which produces a cata⯑ſtrophe that is nearly the ſame. Orlando, in the dark, intend⯑ing to ſtab Rivers, by a fortunate miſtake ſtabs Bertrand; and the principal ſituation of the cataſtrophe is produced exactly in the ſame manner in both Plays; which is, by the critical en⯑trance of the perſon ſuppoſed to be murdered. The greater part of this, however, paſſes behind the ſcenes in Fatal Falſehood; by which the dramatic effect is weakened; but the principal ob⯑jections made to mine, are removed. The character of the Siſter of Rivers, and other parts of the Play, differ from mine; but there is a ſcene between the Father and his Daughter, on her being rejected by Orlando, that bears the ſame reſemblance, in the literal expreſſion, to the ſcene between Weſtmoreland and Albina, in the fourth Act of this Play, as the ſcene in Percy did to that between him and Edward.

How all theſe wonderful reſemblances happened, it is impoſſible for me to know—nor do I know that Miſs More ever ſaw my Tragedy—it was in Mr. Garrick's poſſeſſion (under the name of Edwina) ſoon after the concluſion of the ſeaſon in which he he left the Stage; about which time, I have ſince been in⯑formed, Miſs More was an inmate at Hampton, and that the Play, afterwards called Percy, was then tranſlating. My Tra⯑gedy was afterwards in Mr. Harris's Cloſet, at the ſame time with Percy, and again nearly at the ſame time with Fatal Falſehood. I know that Managers are continually employed in giving advice, and in ſuggeſting alternations to Authors; and I have frequently heard, before I had any experience in this anxious warfare, of the danger when once an idea is afloat in the Theatrical Hemi⯑ſphere, of its getting into other plays. Amidſt the croud of Plots, and Stage Contrivances, in which a Manager is involv'd, recol⯑lection is too frequently miſtaken for the ſuggeſtions of imagination.

[vii] Should it, after all, appear to the Public, that there is nothing more in theſe repeated reſemblances, than what may be accounted for by ſuppoſing a ſimilarity in our minds; and that, by ſome wonderful coincidence, Miſs More and I have but one common ſtock of ideas between us, I have only to lament that the whole misfortune of this ſimilarity has fallen upon me: and, as in this caſe, we muſt continue writing in the ſame track, it ſeems reaſonable that we ſhould have our productions brought forward in turn; inſtead of which Miſs More has had two Tragedies brought out, both of which were written ſince mine, whilſt I ſtruggled for the repreſentation of this, in vain. But, as there ſeems to be little hope of my obtaining this, or any other favour, from the Winter Managers, I preſume at leaſt, that, as I do not pretend to prove—what it is impoſſible for me to know—that Miſs More ever read, or copied me, that it will be admitted that I have not copied her; had I not been able to aſcertain the fact, that my Tragedy was written long before Percy and Fatal Falſehood appeared, no proof would have been required, beyond their extreme ſimilarity, that I had been guilty of the groſſeſt Plagiariſm.

I now found myſelf deprived of all hope of Albina's appearing to the Public as an Original Play; yet I ſtill conceived myſelf ſure of its being repreſented at Drury-Lane the next Seaſon: but I ſoon after accidentally learnt, that Mr. Sheridan had promiſed another Tragedy; and, as Mr. Craddock's had been put off, I well knew that three would not be done:—this, with his evading the ſubject, and ſaying that he thought Mr. Harris would ſtill do it, reduced me to the diſagreeable neceſſity of aſking an explicit declaration, when I heard with inexpreſſible aſtoniſhment—‘"That he neyer intended to do the Play at Drury-Lane, and that the next Seaſon was engaged to Mr. Craddock, and another Gen⯑tleman."’On being reminded of his promiſes and encomiums, he ſaid—‘"It was ſtill his opinion, that the Tragedy was a very good one, that it ought not to have been refuſed, and that he had propoſed to prevail on Mr. Harris after all to bring it out; but, as this had been improperly mentioned to Mr. Harris, there was now an end of it."’ I was then charged with having pieced converſations together, which Mr. Sheridan ſaid ſhould never happen again; and, from the whole of his behaviour, it appeared to me that he meant this to cloſe his doors againſt me.

This moſt injurious and unaccountable conduct appears to me to be the effect of that coalition of the Theatres, which, by uniting the intereſts and prejudices of the Managers, deprives an Author of all hope, after a Piece has been rejected by one. Had Mr. Sheridan been unconnected with Covent-Garden, I have no doubt, from the opinion he conceived of my Tragedy, but that it would have been brought out in a moſt advantageous [viii] manner. Ideas of rivalſhip, which is the natural and proper effect of two Houſes, would have been as favourable to me, as their union has been ruinous.

The morning ſucceeding my interview with Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Colman was aſked to bring out a Tragedy for me, at the Haymarket, which both the Winter Managers had refuſed. His anſwer was—When an Author of reputation thinks proper to bring me a Piece, I don't think I have a right to deliberate. If Mrs. Cowley invites the Town to a Tragedy at the Haymarket, I am only the Midwife, to give it a ſafe delivery to the World; when one does not know a Writer, it is different.

This candid and liberal anſwer I have great pleaſure in re⯑cording. The Tragedy, when read, drew an approbation not leſs warm from Mr. Colman, than from Mr. Sheridan: and it was not merely praiſe; Mr. Colman put it into immediate rehear⯑ſal, for which I think myſelf under the higheſt obligation, as Tragedy is inconſiſtent with the ſportive Genius of the Haymarket; and there was little hope of advantage equal to the expenſive pre⯑paration of a regular Tragedy. It was however preſented, with no other alteration than the curtailments, which were neceſſary, on account of the length, where the time of repreſentation is ſhorter than in the Winter Theatres—and with the diſadvantage of ha⯑ving one of its principal ^* Characters performed in a ſtyle which excited laughter; yet it was received with a degree of applauſe, for which I ſhould be ungrateful, were I not vain of it.

Had I taken up my pen merely in purſuit of applauſe, I ſhould have been completely gratified; but this, though ſo oſtentatiouſly held out as the motive for productions in the Poetic line, has ſeldom, in any age or country, produced works of any conſider⯑able reputation. Dramatic Writers, in particular, have always ſought for ſupport from their labour, which is too great to be undertaken for amuſement. This may appear a vulgar topic; but to me it is a very ſerious ſubject of complaint, that, by the conduct of the Winter Managers, I have been deprived of a rea⯑ſonable proſpect of ſeveral hundred pounds, and have ſpent years of fruitleſs anxiety and trouble. My productions have been uniformly received by the Public with applauſe; yet I find the doors of the Winter Theatres ſhut againſt me.—To this ſevere fate I moſt reluctantly ſubmit.