Aphra Behn - The Works of Aphra Behn

p. 29 The London-Cuckolds. Ravenscroft’s rollicking comedy, which had been produced with great success at the Duke’s House in 1682 (4to, 1682), long kept the boards with undiminished favour, being very frequently given each season. Genest has the following true and pertinent remark: ‘If it be the province of Comedy not to retail morality to a yawning pit but to make the audience laugh and to keep them in good humour this play must be allowed to be one of the best Comedies in the English language.’ 29 October (the old Lord Mayor’s Day), 1751, Garrick substituted Eastward Hoe at Drury Lane for the annual performance of The London Cuckolds , a change not approved by the audience, who promptly damned their new fare. Ravenscroft’s comedy was given that evening at Covent Garden, and on 9 November, the following year. It was also performed there in 1753. 9 November, 1754, George II ordered The Provoked Husband . It has often been stated (e.g. by Professor A. W. Ward – ‘Ravenscroft’ — Dictionary of National Biography ) that this royal command gave The London Cuckolds its final congé , but such was neither the intent nor the case. The play is billed at Covent Garden, 10 November, 1755; in 1757; and 9 November, 1758. Shuter excelled as Dashwell. A two act version was played at Covent Garden, 10 April, 1782, and repeated on the 12th. This was for the benefit of Quick, who acted Doodle.

p. 30 Your Honour.. must be set down at Long’s. Long’s was a famous Ordinary in the Haymarket. It was here that in 1678 Lord Pembroke killed Mr. Coney with his fist. He was tried by his Peers and acquitted. There was at the same period a second tavern in Covent Garden kept by Ben Long, Long’s brother. In Dryden’s Mr. Limberham (1678), Brainsick cries: ‘I have won a wager to be spent luxuriously at Long’s.’ In Etheredge’s The Man of Mode (1676), the following conversation occurs: —

p. 30 the King’s Box . The seats in the boxes of the Restoration Theatre were let out severally to separate persons, and although the King had, of course, his own private box when he saw a play, yet when he was not present even the royal box was apportioned to individuals as the rest. There are many allusions to this which prove, moreover, that the front row of the King’s box was the most conspicuous and highly coveted position in the house. In Etheredge’s The Man of Mode (1676), Dorimant, hearing of a young gentlewoman lately come to town and being taken with his own handsome face, wagers that she must be ‘some awkward, ill-fashioned, country toad, who, not having above four dozen of black hairs on her head, has adorned her baldness with a large white fruz, that she may look sparkishly in the forefront of the King’s box at an old play.’ In Tom Brown’s Letters from the Dead to the Living 1we have one from Julian, ‘late Secretary to the Muses,’ to Will. Pierre of Lincoln’s Inn Fields Playhouse, wherein, recalling how in his lampoons whilst he lived characters about town were shown in no very enviable light, he particularizes that ‘the antiquated Coquet was told of her age and ugliness, tho’ her vanity plac’d her in the first row in the King’s box at the playhouse.’

p. 31 Jermain-Street. Jermyn Street runs parallel with Piccadilly from the Haymarket to St. James. It was built circa 1667, and derives its name from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans. Shadwell spells it Germin Street, and it was in a house here that old Snarl was wont to receive amorous castigation at the hands of Mrs. Figgup. — The Virtuoso (1676), iii, II. It was a fashionable quarter. From 1675 to 1681 the Duke of Marlborough, then Colonel Churchill, lived here. La Belle Stuart, Duchess of Richmond, had a house near Eagle Passage, 1681-3, and was succeeded therein by the Countess of Northumberland. Next door dwelt Henry Saville, Rochester’s friend, 1681-3. Three doors from the Duchess again was living in 1683 Simon Verelest, the painter. In 1684 Sir William Soames followed him. In after years also there have been a large number of famous residents connected with this favourite street.

p. 34 after having.. thrown their Majesties own Shoes and Stockings . For this old bridal custom see ante , Vol. III (p. 223), The Lucky Chance , ii, II: ‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on that passage. Cross-Reference: The Lucky Chance.

Note to p. 27: vide The Younger Brother , i, II (Vol. IV), Motteux’ Song: ‘Thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks,’ and the note on that passage.

Younger Brother text:

Then jogs to the Play-house , and chats with the Masks,

And thence to the Rose , where he takes his three Flasks.

Younger Brother note:

the Rose . This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references to it. The greater portion of the ‘Rose’ was demolished in 1776, when a new front was being built to the theatre.

Note to p. 34: For this old bridal custom see ante , Vol. III (p. 223), The Lucky Chance , ii, II: ‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on that passage.

Lucky Chance text:

Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then – we’ll toss the Stocking.

Lucky Chance note:

we’ll toss the Stocking . This merry old matrimonial custom in use at the bedding of the happy pair is often alluded to. cf. Pepys, 8 February, 1663: ‘Another story was how Lady Castlemaine, a few days since, had Mrs. Stewart to an entertainment, and at night begun a frolique that they two must be married; and married they were, with ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands, and a sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in the close it is said my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King come and take her place.’

I cannot omit giving the World an account, of the uncommon Villany of a Gentleman of a good Family in England practis’d upon his Sister, which was attested to me by one who liv’d in the Family, and from whom I had the whole Truth of the Story. I shall conceal the unhappy Gentleman’s own, under the borrow’d Names of Sir William Wilding , who succeeded his Father Sir Edward , in an Estate of near 4000 l. a Year, inheriting all that belong’d to him, except his Virtues. ’Tis true, he was oblig’d to pay his only Sister a Portion of 6000 l. which he might very easily have done out of his Patrimony in a little Time, the Estate being not in the least incumbred. But the Death of his good Father gave a loose to the Extravagancy of his Inclinations, which till then was hardly observable. The first Discovery he made of his Humour, was in the extraordinary rich Equipage he prepar’d for his Journey to London , which was much greater than his fair and plentiful Fortune cou’d maintain, nor were his Expences any way inferior to the Figure he made here in Town; insomuch, that in less than a Twelve-Month, he was forc’d to return to his Seat in the Country, to Mortgage a part of his Estate of a Thousand Pounds a Year, to satisfy the Debts he had already contracted in his profuse Treats, Gaming and Women, which in a few Weeks he effected, to the great Affliction of his Sister Philadelphia , a young Lady of excellent Beauty, Education, and Virtue; who, fore-seeing the utter Ruin of the Estate, if not timely prevented, daily begg’d of him, with Prayers and Tears, that might have mov’d a Scythian or wild Arab , or indeed any thing but him, to pay her her Portion. To which, however, he seemingly consented, and promis’d to take her to Town with him, and there give her all the Satisfaction she cou’d expect: And having dipp’d some paltry Acres of Land, deeper than ever Heaven dipp’d ’em in Rain, he was as good as his Word, and brought her to Town with him, where he told her he would place her with an ancient Lady, with whom he had contracted a Friendship at his first coming to London ; adding, that she was a Lady of incomparable Morals, and of a matchless Life and Conversation. Philadelphia took him in the best Sense, and was very desirous to be planted in the same House with her, hoping she might grow to as great a Perfection in such excellent Qualifications, as she imagined ’em. About four Days therefore after they had been in Town, she sollicits her Brother to wait on that Lady with her: He reply’d, that it is absolutely Necessary and Convenient that I should first acquaint her with my Design, and beg that she will be pleas’d to take you into her Care, and this shall be my chief Business to Day: Accordingly, that very Hour he went to the Lady Beldams , his reverend and honourable Acquaintance, whom he prepar’d for the Reception of his Sister, who he told her was a Cast-Mistress of his, and desir’d her Assistance to prevent the Trouble and Charge, which she knew such Cattle would bring upon young Gentlemen of plentiful Estates. To morrow Morning about Eleven, I’ll leave her with your Ladyship, who, I doubt not, will give her a wholesome Lesson or two before Night, and your Reward is certain. My Son, (return’d she) I know the Greatness of your Spirit, the Heat of your Temper has both warm’d and inflam’d me! I joy to see you in Town again – Ah! That I could but recal one twenty Years for your Sake! – Well – no matter. – I won’t forget your Instructions, nor my Duty to Morrow: In the mean time, I’ll drink your Health in a Bottle of Sherry or two, O! Cry your Mercy, good my Lady Beldam , (said the young Debauchee) I had like to have forfeited my Title to your Care, in not remembring to leave you an Obligation. There are three Guinea’s, which, I hope, will plead for me till to Morrow. – So – Your Ladyship’s Servant humbly kisses your Hand. Your Honours most Obedient Servant, most gratefully Acknowledges your Favours. – Your humble Servant, Good Sir William , added she, seeing him leave her in haste.