THE GOOD-NATURED MAN. A COMEDY. PREFACE. WHEN I undertook to write a comedy, I confess I was strongly prepossessed in favour of the poets of the last age, and strove to imitate them. The term genteel comedy was then unknown amongst us, and little more was desired by an audience, than nature and humour, in whatever walks of life they were most conspicuous. The author of the following scenes never imagined that more would be expected of him, and therefore to delineate character has been his principal aim. Those who know any thing of composition, are sensible, that in pursuing humour, it will sometimes lead us into the recesses of the mean; I was even tempted to look for it in the master of a spunging-house: but in deference to the public taste, grown of late, perhaps, too delicate, the scene of the bailiffs was retrenched in the representation. In deference also to the judgment of a few friends, who think in a particular way, the scene is here restored. The author submits it to the reader in his closet; and hopes that too much refinement will not banish humour and character from ours, as it has already done from the French theatre. Indeed the French comedy is now become so very elevated and sentimental, that it has not only banished humour and Molière from the stage, but it has banished all spectators too. Upon the whole, the author returns his thanks to the public for the favourable reception which the Good-Natured Man has met with: and to Mr. Colman in particular, for his kindness to it. It may not also be improper to assure any who shall hereafter write for the theatre, that merit, or supposed merit, will ever be a sufficient passport to his protection. WRITTEN BY DR. JOHNSON. SPOKEN BY MR. BENSLEY. PRESS'D by the load of life, the weary mind Our anxious bard, without complaint, may share Toss'd in one common storm with all the great; Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale, For that blessed year when all that vote may rail; Their schemes of spite the poet's foes dismiss, Till that glad night when all that hate may hiss. "This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," Says swelling Crispin, "begged a cobbler's vote!" "This night our wit" the pert apprentice cries, Lies at my feet: I hiss him, and he dies!" The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe; BUTLER." Sir, I'll not ftay in the family with Jonathan."-p. 271. ACT I. SCENE I.-An Apartment in YOUNG HONEYWOOD's House. Enter SIR WILLIAM HONEYWOOD and JARVIS. SIR WILL. Good Jarvis, make no apologies for this honest bluntness. Fidelity like yours, is the best excuse for every freedom. JARVIS. I can't help being blunt, and being very angry too, when I hear you talk of disinheriting so good, so worthy a young gentleman as your nephew, my master. All the world loves him. SIR WILL. Say rather, that he loves all the world; that is his fault. JARVIS. I'm sure there is no part of it more dear to him than you are, though he has not seen you since he was a child. SIR WILL. What signifies his affection to me? or how can I be proud of a place in a heart where every sharper and coxcomb finds an easy entrance? JARVIS. I grant that he's rather too good-natured; that he's too much every man's man; that he laughs this minute with one, and cries the next with another; but whose instructions may he thank for all this? SIR WILL. Not mine, sure! My letters to him during my employment in Italy, taught him only that philosophy which might prevent, not defend, his errors. JARVIS. Faith, begging your honour's pardon, I'm sorry they taught him any philosophy at all; it has only served to spoil him. This same philosophy is a good horse in a stable, but an errant jade on a journey. For my own part, whenever I hear him mention the name on't, I'm always sure he's going to play the fool. SIR WILL. Don't let us ascribe his faults to his philosophy, I entreat you. No, Jarvis, his good-nature arises rather from his fears of offending the importunate, than his desire of making the deserving happy. JARVIS. What it rises from, I don't know. But, to be sure, every body has it, that asks it. SIR WILL. Ay, or that does not ask it. I have been now for some time a concealed spectator of his follies, and find them as boundless as his dissipation. JARVIS. And yet, faith, he has some fine name or other for them all. He call his extravagance, generosity; and his trusting every body, universal benevolence. It was but last week he went security for a fellow whose face he scarce knew, and that he called an act of exalted mu-mu-munificence; ay, that was the name he gave it. SIR WILL. And upon that I proceed, as my last effort, though with very little hopes to reclaim him. That very fellow has just absconded, and I have taken up the security. Now, my inten tion is, to involve him in fictitious distress, before he has plunged himself into real calamity; to arrest him for that very debt, to clap an officer upon him, and then let him see which of his friends will come to his relief. JARVIS. Well, if I could but any way see him thoroughly vexed, every groan of his would be music to me; yet, faith, I believe it impossible. I have tried to fret him myself every morning these three years; but, instead of being angry, he sits as calmly to hear me scold, as he does to his hair-dresser. SIR WILL. We must try him once more, however, and I'll go this instant to put my scheme into execution; and I don't despair of succeeding, as by your means, I can have frequent opportunities of being about him, without being known. What a pity it is, Jarvis, that any man's good will to others should produce so much neglect of himself, as to require correction! Yet, we must touch his weakness with a delicate hand. There are some faults so nearly allied to excellence, that we can scarce weed out the vice without eradicating the virtue. [Exit. JARVIS. Well, go thy ways, Sir William Honeywood. It is not without reason that the world allows thee to be the best of men. But here comes his hopeful nephew; the strange, good-natured, foolish, open-heartedAnd yet, all his faults are such that one loves him still the better for them. Enter HONEYWOOD. HONEYW. Well, Jarvis, what messages from my friends this morning! JARVIS. You have no friends. HONEYW. Well; from my acquaintance, then? JARVIS. (Pulling out bills.) A few of our usual cards of compliment. |