The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
Chapter 315 : LETTER 73 CHARLES LAMB TO WILLIAM G.o.dWIN [No date. Autumn, 1800.]Queries. Whether th

LETTER 73

CHARLES LAMB TO WILLIAM G.o.dWIN

[No date. Autumn, 1800.]

Queries. Whether the best conclusion would not be a solemn judicial pleading, appointed by the king, before himself in person of Antonio as proxy for Roderigo, and Guzman for himself--the form and ordering of it to be highly solemn and grand. For this purpose, (allowing it,) the king must be reserved, and not have committed his royal dignity by descending to previous conference with Antonio, but must refer from the beginning to this settlement. He must sit in dignity as a high royal arbiter.

Whether this would admit of spiritual interpositions, cardinals &c.--appeals to the Pope, and haughty rejection of his interposition by Antonio--(this merely by the way).

The pleadings must be conducted by short speeches--replies, taunts, and bitter recriminations by Antonio, in his rough style. In the midst of the undecided cause, may not a messenger break up the proceedings by an account of Roderigo's death (no improbable or far-fetch'd event), and the whole conclude with an affecting and awful invocation of Antonio upon Roderigo's spirit, now no longer dependent upon earthly tribunals or a froward woman's will, &c., &c.

Almanza's daughter is now free, &c.

This might be made _very affecting_. Better nothing follow after; if anything, she must step forward and resolve to take the veil. In this case, the whole story of the former nunnery _must_ be omitted. But, I think, better leave the final conclusion to the imagination of the spectator. Probably the violence of confining her in a convent is not necessary; Antonio's own castle would be sufficient.

To relieve the former part of the Play, could not some sensible images, some work for the Eye, be introduced? A gallery of Pictures, Almanza's ancestors, to which Antonio might affectingly point his sister, one by one, with anecdote, &c.

At all events, with the present want of action, the Play must not extend above four Acts, unless it is quite new modell'd. The proposed alterations might all be effected in a few weeks.

Solemn judicial pleadings always go off well, as in Henry the 8th, Merchant of Venice, and perhaps Oth.e.l.lo.

[Lamb, said Mr. Paul, writing of this critical Minute, was so genuinely kind and even affectionate, in his criticism that G.o.dwin did not perceive his real disapproval.

Mr Swinburne, writing in _The Athenaeum_ for May 13, 1876, made an interesting comment upon one of Lamb's suggestions in the foregoing doc.u.ment. It contains, he remarks, "a singular antic.i.p.ation of one of the most famous pa.s.sages in the work of the greatest master of our own age, the scene of the portraits in 'Hernani:' 'To relieve the former part of the play, could not some sensible images, some work for the eye, be introduced? _A gallery of pictures, Alexander's ancestors, to which Antonio might affectingly point his sister, one by one, with anecdote_, &c.' I know of no coincidence more pleasantly and strangely notable than this between the gentle genius of the loveliest among English essayists and the tragic invention of the loftiest among French poets."

After long negotiation "Antonio" was now actually in rehearsal at Drury Lane, to be produced on December 13. Lamb supplied the epilogue.

Cooper was G.o.dwin's servant.]

LETTER 74

CHARLES LAMB TO WILLIAM G.o.dWIN

Dec. 10th, 1800.

Wednesday Morning.

Dear Sir,--I expected a good deal of pleasure from your company to-morrow, but I am sorry I must beg of you to excuse me. I have been confined ever since I saw you with one of the severest colds I ever experienced, occasioned by being in the night air on Sunday, and on the following day, very foolishly. I am neither in health nor spirits to meet company. I hope and trust I shall get out on Sat.u.r.day night. You will add to your many favours, by transmitting to me as early as possible as many tickets as conveniently you can spare,--Yours truly,

C. L.

I have been plotting how to abridge the Epilogue. But I cannot see that any lines can be spared, retaining the connection, except these two, which are better out.

"Why should I instance, &c., The sick man's purpose, &c.,"

and then the following line must run thus,

"The truth by an example best is shown."

Excuse this _important_ postscript.

LETTER 75

CHARLES LAMB TO THOMAS MANNING

[P.M. Dec. 13, 1800.]

Don't spill the cream upon this letter.

I have received your letter _this moment_, not having been at the office. I have just time to scribble down the epilogue. To your epistle I will just reply, that I will certainly come to Cambridge before January is out: I'll come _when I can_. You shall have an amended copy of my play early next week. Mary thanks you; but her handwriting is too feminine to be exposed to a Cambridge gentleman, though I endeavour to persuade her that you understand algebra, and must understand her hand.

The play is the man's you wot of; but for G.o.d's sake (who would not like to have so pious a _professor's_ work _d.a.m.n'd_) do not mention it--it is to come out in a feigned name, as one Tobin's. I will omit the introductory lines which connect it with the play, and give you the concluding tale, which is the ma.s.s and bulk of the epilogue. The _name_ is _Jack_ INCIDENT. It is about promise-breaking--you will see it all, if you read the _papers_.

Jack, of dramatic genius justly vain, Purchased a renter's share at Drury-lane; A prudent man in every other matter, Known at his club-room for an honest hatter; Humane and courteous, led a civil life, And has been seldom known to beat his wife; But Jack is now grown quite another man, Frequents the green-room, knows the plot and plan Of each new piece, And has been seen to talk with Sheridan!

In at the play-house just at six he pops, And never quits it till the curtain drops, Is never absent on the _author's night_, Knows actresses and actors too--by sight; So humble, that with Suett he'll confer, Or take a pipe with plain Jack Bannister; Nay, with an author has been known so free, He once suggested a catastrophe-- In short, John dabbled till his head was turn'd; His wife remonstrated, his neighbours mourn'd, His customers were dropping off apace, And Jack's affairs began to wear a piteous face.

One night his wife began a curtain lecture; "My dearest Johnny, husband, spouse, protector, Take pity on your helpless babes and me, Save us from ruin, you from bankruptcy-- Look to your business, leave these cursed plays, And try again your old industrious ways."

Jack who was always scared at the Gazette, And had some bits of skull uninjured yet, Promised amendment, vow'd his wife spake reason, "He would not see another play that season--"

Three stubborn fortnights Jack his promise kept, Was late and early in his shop, eat, slept, And walk'd and talk'd, like ordinary men; No _wit_, but John the hatter once again-- Visits his club: when lo! one _fatal night_ His wife with horror view'd the well-known sight-- John's _hat, wig, snuff-box_--well she knew his tricks-- And Jack decamping at the hour of six, Just at the counter's edge a playbill lay, Announcing that "Pizarro" was the play-- "O Johnny, Johnny, this is your old doing."

Quoth Jack, "Why what the devil storm's a-brewing?

About a harmless play why all this fright?

I'll go and see it if it's but for spite-- Zounds, woman! Nelson's[1] to be there to-night."

_N.B_.--This was intended for Jack Bannister to speak; but the sage managers have chosen Miss _Heard_,--except Miss Tidswell, the worst actress ever seen or _heard_. Now, I remember I have promised the loan of my play. I will lend it _instantly_, and you shall get it ('pon honour!) by this day week.

I must go and dress for the boxes! First night! Finding I have time, I transcribe the rest. Observe, you have read the last first; it begins thus:--the names I took from a little outline G. gave me. I have not read the play.

"Ladies, ye've seen how Guzman's consort died, Poor victim of a Spaniard brother's pride, When Spanish honour through the world was blown, And Spanish beauty for the best was known[2]

In that romantic, unenlighten'd time, A _breach of promise_[3] was a sort of crime-- Which of you handsome English ladies here, But deems the penance b.l.o.o.d.y and severe?

A whimsical old Saragossa[4] fas.h.i.+on, That a dead father's dying inclination, Should _live_ to thwart a living daughter's pa.s.sion,[5]

Unjustly on the s.e.x _we_[6] men exclaim, Rail at _your_[7] vices,--and commit the same;-- Man is a promise-breaker from the womb, And goes a promise-breaker to the tomb-- What need we instance here the lover's vow, The sick man's purpose, or the great man's bow?[8]

The truth by few examples best is shown-- Instead of many which are better known, Take poor Jack Incident, that's dead and gone.

Jack," &c. &c. &c.

Now you have it all-how do you like it? I am going to hear it recited!!!

C. L.

[Footnote 1: A good clap-trap. Nelson has exhibited two or three times at both theatres--and advertised himself.]

[Footnote 2: Four _easy_ lines.]

[Footnote 3: For which the _heroine died_.]

[Footnote 4: In _Spain!!?]