sent moment, but in some degree every thing that he will have to repeat in the whole scene: By this means, and by none but this, he will be able to regulate his gestures and deportment, not only fo as to make them proper for the present occafion, but for the conduct of the whole fucceeding part of the scene. We may even go a great deal farther, without exceeding the bounds of justice in this article. The player ought not only to remember in general his own part in the whole scene, nay and in the whole play, but he shou'd remember also, at least in a general way, the parts of the other actors who are, or at any fucceeding time are, to be on the stage with him. On almost all occasions, the actor, before he begins to speak, ought to prepare his audience for what he is going to deliver, by some proper action; and the beginning of this action ought, according to the circumstances, to precede the speech by a longer or shorter time. The players, especially the young ones, have a way of mechanically recollecting when they are to speak next, by getting off, together with their own parts, what they call the Cues, that is, the last line of the speech of the perfon next after whom they are to speak. But when the performer knows no more of what is to be faid to him than the last line, it is hardly to be imagin'd that he can give his speech the proper tone at its setting out; and 'tis utterly impoffible that he shou'd introduce it with that kind of action we have just now mention'd the neceffity of. CHAP. IX. Containing a Digression concerning certain Articles, which in themselves are foreign to theatrical Representation; yet without which the Truth of acting is never to be arrived at. W HEN the players are thoroughly perfect in the remembrance of their parts, and have study'd so carefully their different circumstances, that they are ready to bestow on each that fort of expression which is adapted to it; we find the most necessary appearances are already all prepared to keep up the illusion in the representation, and to perfuade us into an opinion of its being a reality. We have nothing now left us then to enquire into, but such things as are independent both of the action and the delivery. If we wou'd have the representation perfect in its kind, all that now remains, is to join these requifites of the latter kind with those of the first. If these connections are in some degree necessary to us in plays, they are infinitely more so in the Italian operas. The more every appearance of reality is neglected in the very nature of performances, the more neceffity there is that the delusion of our senses shou'd take us off from all thoughts of using our reafon. This kind of theatrical entertainment invented by the Italians, a nation fonder of shew than of reality, and intended to amuse the eyes and to entertain the ears, rather than to affect the heart, to rouse rouse the paffions, or in any degree to employ the understanding, keeps up to this day the spirit of its original nature: Even when there have been people who have understood the language, and have insisted upon meaning in the words, it has still been left in poffeffion of all that gewgaw splendour which was intended originally to make sense unnecessary to it; and stage monsters and pompous scenery are yet allow'd among the things of greatest merit in it. Our imagination is conducted by these kind of theatrical representations from prodigy to prodigy; and at every instant we are expected to prepare ouselves for feeing scenes, each more extraordinary than the last. A magnificent palace changes in a moment into a frightful desart; and in a few minutes more, a shepherd's cottage becomes a majestick temple. A conjurer in one scene determin'd to plague a couple of unhappy lovers, ransacks all the elements for means to execute his purpose; furies, fiends and discord arife from the gaping ground, which presents all hell to our view; and the next scene shews us Venus and Cupid attended by the Graces, descending from the clouds to crown the constancy of the tender pair. We are hurry'd to the utmost bounds of imaginary worlds at the shifting of a scene, and are in one moment in the Idalian groves, in the next, in caves and grottos at the bottom of the fea, the refort of Nereids, and in a third we are feated on the top of Olympus in the midst of a council of the gods. The art of the mechanick and decorator are no less essential in these performances, than the genius of the poet, the skill of the compofer, or the art of the player, to give some fort of appearance at least of a reality to the representation. Our ridiculous pantomimes are as wild in this way as the strangest extravagances of the Italians ever were; but excepting these, the theatrical pieces represented on an English stage, as they are conformable to nature and to reason, and are destin'd to employ the understanding, and to affect the heart, may easily spare a great deal in pomp and decorations. The probability of the incidents in our plays, the judicious conduct of the several scenes, the force and spirit of the words, and the just play of the actors, often employ the mind so absolutely with us, that the senses have scarce liberty to exert themselves at all; and we are often so pleas'd with the matter of a scene, that we pay no regard to the decorations of the stage on which it is reprefented. Notwithstanding that we are in the right to be more indifferent about this article at the playhouse than at the opera, yet it cannot but be acknowledg'd it wou'd be much more reasonable that the scenery should always represent at least the place where the action represented is faid to be perform'd, than that it should be left at random in this point: And above all things it is absurd and monstrous to admit a part of the audience upon the stage and behind the scenes. This is a piece of folly that had its rise in France, and that has been often attempted to be introduced among us, but always with that ill fuccess it deserves. Tho' the avarice of our managers seems very well dispos'd to suffer the stage to be fill'd as well as the boxes in this manner, the indignation of the generality of the audience : audience has never fail'd to express itself too feverely against the people who place themselves there, to encourage them to make a practice of doing fo. We readily pardon the abuses of this kind in the particular instance of the benefit nights of favorite players; paying them the compliment of facrificing to their interest the appearance of reality, which the play might have without this, but which can never be given it under fuch circumstances : it might however be wish'd, that even on these occafions, some care were taken in the distribution of these people, and fome decency obferv'd in the fault: as, that the stage were never crowded till every other part of the house were full; that even then the people were fo dispos'd on it, as to give free passage to the performers in their coming on and going off the stage, and a space sufficient left for the representation; scarce any one of which particulars is now ever comply'd with. The dresses of the actors is another particular that we are usually as careless about as the scenery in our plays. We shou'd indeed be offended if we saw a person who perform'd the part of a man of rank and quality, act in a plain suit; but we are very unconcern'd to fee an actress, whose part is that of a chambermaid, enter upon the stage in a habit that in real life might be worn by a Dutchess. We forget the necessary plainness, that a person of the character and station represented to us ought to appear in, and only say upon the occafion, that Mrs. Clive has a great many very good cloaths. The general taste, which we have for extravagance in dress, makes us forget the intereft |