no excuse in anyone who does not write for necessities of life.

The play has met with a kind reception from all for aught I hear, but some of the late loyal poets, above whose censure I esteem myself; and from some who are still so fond of the doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance that they think it a profanation to bring the very words into a comedy.

These are so weak to mistake that for a point of divinity which is indeed a point of law; and some of the most vigorous maintainers of that doctrine have seen their error and not only left off professing it, but have wisely and justly contradicted it in their practice by assisting towards our late wonderful deliverance. And sure there is no need of any great measure of understanding to find out that when the compact on which government is founded is broken, and those very laws destroyed which were made to secure the people in their estates, liberty, and religion, the law of nature must take place which not only permits but obliges mankind to self-defence.

I never could recant in the worst of times, when my ruin was designed and my life was sought, and for near ten years I was kept from the exercise of that profession which had afforded me a competent subsistence; and surely I shall not now do it, when there is a liberty of speaking common sense, which, tho' not long since forbidden, is now grown current.

I humbly beg your Lordship's pardon for the trouble of this epistle, who am,

My Lord,

Your Lordship's

Most obliged humble servant,
Tho. Shadwell

Was silenced for a Nonconformist poet;
In those hard times he bore the utmost test,
And now he swears he's loyal as the best.
Now, sirs, since common-sense has won the day,
Be kind to this, as to his last year's play.
His friends stood firmly to him when dis-
tressed;

38
He hopes the number is not now decreased.
He found esteem from those he valued most:
Proud of his friends, he of his foes could boast,
To all you Bury sparks he bid me say,
That every part is fiction in his play;
Particular reflections there are none:
Our poet knows not one in all your town.
If any has so very little wit
46

To think a fop's dress can his person fit, E'en let him take it, and make much of it. 2 poetasters.

3 hallooed.

VALET. I hope you'll grant Mr. Oldwit is a fine, facetious, witty old gentlemanmy Lady Fantast's husband?

WILDISH. Almost as arrant an ass as thou art. He is a paltry, old-fashioned wit and punner of the last age, that pretends to have been one of Ben Jonson's sons, and to have seen plays at the Blackfriars. 67

VALET. You'll be stoned in the streets, sir, if you talk thus in Bury. I warrant you will not allow Sir Humphrey Noddy to be a wit and a fine gentleman.

71

WILDISH. A blunt, noisy, laughing, roar

VALET. Well, you London wits will never give any man, nor anything, a good word.

WILDISH. You impudent rascal! Wit, say you! What, do you call me names? I had as lief be called a pickpocket as a wit. A wit is always a merry, idle, waggish fellow, of no understanding: parts indeed he has, but he had better be without 'em. Your solid fop is a better man; he'll be diligent and fawning, always in the way, and with his blockhead do his business at last. But your wit will either neglect all opportunities for pleasure, or, if he brings his business into a hopeful way, he will laugh at or draw his wit upon some great man or other and spoil all.

1 Here, lowlands.

42

monkey, and as witless as a jackdaw; he is, at best, but a wag.

75

WILDISH. No doubt on't; I never knew a town yet wherein the fops do not carry all before 'em. They are a numerous, impudent, and noisy party, while the wise and ingenious are few, modest, and reserved. There are men of wit, honor, and breeding; and women of great wit, beauty, and ingenuity, and well-bred too, in this town, which is really a sweet town: but these pretend to nothing. Your pretenders never have anything in 'em.

Enter MR. TRIM

III

TRIM. You, that make so noble a figure among the nimble and quick spirits of the age, and are such a top wit that all England rings out your fame!

185 WILDISH. Prithee, Mr. Trim, whate'er you do, don't call me a wit; 'tis good for nothing in this age but to undo a man. I shall be hunted for a wild beast. But pray, what lady rides Admiral1 here at Bury?

TRIM. O Lord! who should but Madam Fantast, the sweet Lady Fantast's daughter? a paragon of beauty and a mirror of wit and breeding! at once the envy and wonder of the sex and age! She bears the flag of wit and breeding on the main topsail of her beauty. [Aside] A pretty trope!

197

WILDISH. How does Mr. Oldwit's young daughter? I saw her in London last Easterterm. She is the prettiest, charming creature my eyes ever beheld!

201

(He plucks the chair from under TRIM and gives him a devilish fall. OLDWIT and he laugh immoderately) OLDWIT. Sir Humphrey, forbear; I pray, forbear! You'll be the death of me.

WILDISH. [Aside] How now? What, will not this fool cut the other fool over the pate? Shall I have no sport with 'em?

OLDWIT. I shall break a vein if I keep you company, you arch wag, you! Mr. Wildish, I am come to kiss your hands: you are welcome to Bury Fair.

280

WILDISH. Aye, 'twas so we talked of nothing but cocks, dogs, and horses.

SIR HUMPHREY. Not a word!-'Twas the bravest night! But I was too hard for and out-vapored all the jockeys and cockers; and after that I hunted over a bottle"Here Jowler! hey Venus!"—and we roared so till four in the morning that, Gad take me, between you and me, I was deaf on both ears for three weeks after; I have scarce recovered one ear yet. I would give fifty pound for such another night. 301

TRIM. Sir, I must tell you your deportment is very indecent, and savors much of ill-breeding. And I would desire you would please to explain yourself in this particular.

SIR HUMPHREY. Puh! Waggery-mere waggery. Dear Jack, kiss me: honest Jack, I love to be familiar with my friends. Jack, Jack, dear Jack! nowns1 Jack! 309 TRIM. Jack, Jack, Jack! Familiar! I must tell you, sir, I cannot brook the roughness of your demeanor, the consequences whereof may produce those effects as may

1 my own.

OLDWIT. (OLDWIT is big with laughter, then roars out) Good, good! ha, ha, ha!

SIR HUMPHREY. Ha, ha, ha! But if you had seen his lordship laugh! the water trickled down his Honor's cheeks. Then, one Jeremy stood staring. I called him loudly and suddenly, and held my fingers thus: he turned suddenly, and hit his nose such a bump, that all the blood gushed out.— Ha, ha, ha! 356 OLDWIT. Look you there! Ha, ha, ha! Well, well!

SIR HUMPHREY. But if you had seen his Honor chuckle and laugh, till he was black in the face! I twirled another fellow's hat