me to be Honeſt, and that every one may find me out for Ingratitude, when I don’t ſay all that’s fit for me upon that Subject: ſhe had a great Command of the Stage, and I have often wonder’d that ſhe ſhould bury her Favourite Hero in a Novel, when ſhe might have reviv’d him in the Scene.’ I have quoted this, becauſe ’tis very uncommon with Authors to ſpeak well of thoſe they borrow from in their Writings, for I have known a great Man perpetually rail at the French Authors, and yet contradict his Reflections on them, by filling his Writings with their Wit and Deſigns; and I have ſo often experienc’d this Particular, among the Writers of our Age, that when I hear any of them condemn, either our Ancient or Modern Authors, I conclude, he has been robbing there, and would deter us from finding out his Theft. But as to this Play of Oroonoko, you find our Poet has allow’d the Plot of it Mrs. Behn’s; for on that Prince ſhe has compos’d the beſt of her Novels: and as it muſt be confeſs’d that the Play had not its mighty Succeſs without an innate Excellence; ſo in my Opinion, the neceſſary regularities a Dramatick Poet is obliged to obſerve, has left many Beauties in the Novel, which our Author cou’d not transfer to his Poem. As Mrs. Barrey did the Poet all the Juſtice ſo admirable an Actreſs, when ſhe moſt exerts her ſelf, could do, in the Innocent Adultery; ſo Mr. Verbruggen, in the Part of Oroonoko, by doing the Author Right, got himſelf the Reputation of one of the beſt Actors of his time.
Sir Anthony Love; or, The Rambling Lady; a Comedy, 4 to. 1690. acted at the Theatre Royal by their Majeſties Servants; and dedicated to Tho. Skipwith, Eſq; (now Sir Thomas). This Play met with extraordinary Succeſs.
The Wives excuſe; or, Cuckolds make themſelves; a Comedy, acted at the Theatre Royal, by their Majeſtes Servants, 1692. 4 to. This Play it ſeems did not take as well as was expected, but is uſher’d into print by a Copy of Verſes of his Friend, Mr. Dryden; in which he juſtly reflects on the depraved Taſte of the Age, eſpecially in theſe Two Lines, on the Fault of thoſe Poets, who debauch the Palate of the Audience.
Farre in it ſelf is of a naſty Scent;
''But the Gain ſmells not of the Excrement.
For if there be not ſo intricate a Plot, there is certainly a gaity of Converſation, and Purity of Language, which few of our Poets obſerve.
