The City Bride (1696) - Or The Merry Cuckold
by Joseph Harris
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[Retires to one side of the Stage.

Ara. Sir, I hope he'll soon be here, and return the Kindness you have shown me; so I take my leave, with hourly expectation of a much-long'd for Husband.

Sum. And I, with a Gratitude never to be forgotten, kiss your fair Hand, and hope that all things will answer your Expectation. [Exit Arabella.

Fri. Ay, 'tis so, now must I counterfeit a friendly Face to make a farther Discovery.


Sir, your humble Servant: without Offence, may I be so bold as to beg the Favour of your Name?

Sum. The Question I must confess is somewhat familiar, and in my Opinion improper for a Stranger at first sight; but yet I ne're disown'd it to a Gentleman—'tis Summerfield.

Fri. Summerfield! Sir, I kiss your Hand;, and must congratulate your good Success, but more admire your Valour. Had we many such noble Commanders on board our Fleet, we need not fear it where e're it sails.

Sum. Pray, Sir, stretch not your Love into Flattery, 'twill make me then suspect your Kindness. And the Author of this Story was too much my Friend I see, since he has given you this so very partial Account, the more to augment my Fame.

Fri. O! that's your Modesty, Sir: But if I might be so happy as to be honour'd with your Acquaintance——

Sum. Sir, the Honour (if any) would be wholly on my Side; therefore I desire to know your Name.

Fri. Friendly, Sir.

Sum. An Acquaintance; I suppose, of Mr. Bonvile's.

Fri. One that thinks himself much honour'd in being stiled his Friend.

Sum. I have often heard your Name indeed before; but till now Fortune never afforded me the sight of you.

Fri. You of all Men ought to bless Fortune, who still has been indulgent to you on all Occasions; and scatter'd her Favours on you, with as prodigal a Hand as tho you were her sole Care and only Minion.

Sum. What mean you, Sir? Again you exceed the Bounds of Love and Friendship; I never thought any of Bonvil's Friends cou'd be guilty of so base and vile a thing as Flattery: But, pray, unfold your meaning.

Fri. 'Tis this; I just now saw you part with the Bride, with such courteous Actions, as spoke no small Esteem in her kind Favour; and therein I think you the happiest of Men.

Sum. How!

Fri. Mistake me not, I only as a Friend applaud your Happiness, bless the Influence of your kinder Stars, and praise your Fortune that hath given you this sweet Occasion.

Sum. What Occasion, Sir?

Fri. Of being serviceable to the fair Virgin Bride in her extreamest need, after her being so unkindly left, nay, on her Wedding Day, by an ungrateful Husband, in doing her those neglected Duties, her Youth and Beauty justly did demand.

Sum. On my Life some Plot against the Bride: I'll sound him 'till I find the very Bottom—[Aside.]—Sir, you are merry: But suppose the Case your own, wou'd you have miss'd so tempting an Occasion?

Fri. No, Sir, they're too precious to be omitted: But I hear you two call Cousins, comes your Kindred by the Merryman's or the Bonvile's?

Sum. Neither! we were wholly Strangers 'till of late, and 'tis a word of Courtesy only interchange'd between us for some private Reasons.

Fri. This goes as I cou'd wish. [Aside.]

Sum. I desire you not to grow too inward with me, on so short an Acquaintance: Not that I'de have you think the Lady of so base a Disposition to grant me any thing beyond the Rules of Decency and Honour. The only Favour I e're receiv'd from her, was a Present of those Bracelets she wears about her Arms, and that Chain of Gold and Pearl she has about her Neck; all which either of us may own without a Blush.

Fri. How, the Chain and Bracelet, say you! Those were the first Tokens of her Husband's Love.

Sum. Methinks you look concern'd at what I've said; yet I have said no more than what I am obliged in Honour to maintain, and will: therefore I hope, as you'r a Gentleman, you'l not turn Informer.

Fri. O pray think not so poorly of me.

Enter a Servant who whispers Summerfield.

Sum. Tell her I'le wait on her immediately.

[Exit Servant.

Sir, some Business of Importance calls me hence; therefore some other time I hope I shall have the Happiness of enjoying your Company longer.

[Exit Sum.

Fri. Sir, your humble Servant. Tell her I'll wait on her immediately, said he; this must be Arabella that he's going to: Better still.

The Work's begun, now I am made or lost; He runs the best who holds out to the Post: And all the Comfort in Adversity, Is to see others as miserable as me.

Who have we here? Old Merryman! As I live 'tis he!

Enter Justice Merryman.

Mer. O Master Friendly, you're happily returned: But where's my Son-in-Law?

Fri. Alas, Sir, the unhappy Bonvile is——

Mer. Is, is, what is he? Heh! speak; is he living, or is he dead; or what's become of him?

Fri. O! that I had the Marble Niobes Heart! Or that I had suck'd the Milk of Wolves and Tigers; so that I might have told, without the least remorse of Sorrow, what now I dare not, nay, I cannot speak, for fear at once I melt my self in Tears, and break your aged Heart.

[Seems to weep.

Mer. Then I suppose he's killed; say, is he not? Hast thou inticed him from his Bride for this, thou inhumane Wretch? Yet speak, and tell me truly, for I'm prepared to hear the worst of Ills; Is he then slain?

Fri. No, Sir, but dangerously wounded.

Mer. Not mortally, I hope; but whereabouts is he so desperately wounded? In his Arms, his Legs, or Body?

Fri. Neither, Sir, but in as perfect Health as when he left you.

Mer. Strange! sure thou art all o're a Mystery, and form'st these Riddles to try my Wit.

Fri. No, Sir, for all I have said, you in effect will surely find I told you he was wounded, did I not?

Mer. Yes, you did.

Fri. And so he is.

Mer. But where, whereabout, I ask you once again?

Fri. I see you force the unwilling Secret from me—Why, he's wounded.

Mer. He's wounded, he's wounded, but where, where is he wounded?

Fri. In his Fame, Honour and Reputation, more mortal than a thousand fleshy Wounds.

For such slight Baubles, Cures are oft obtain'd; But injur'd Honour ne're can be regain'd.

Mer. How! how! how's this? wounded in his Honour, fay'll thou? Tell me the Villain that has defam'd him, and this good old Sword shall slit the Rascal's Wind-pipe.

Fri. O, Sir, your Daughter, your Daughter, Sir——

Mer. Ha! what's that? what's that? is she injur'd too?

Fri. No, no Sir, my falling Tears quite drown my feeble Voice, I cannot utter what I fain would speak—Your Daughter's false, false to her Bonvile! And by the help of her beloved Summerfield, has robb'd my Friend of all he cou'd call Dear, I mean his Fame.

[Seems to weep.

Mer. A Pox o' your Crocodile's Tears. Why, Sirrah, Sirrah, do you call my Daughter Whore? Hey, Swords and Daggers, Blunderbusses and Pistols, shall I bear this? Hark you, you my Friend, and no Friend, what a Kin do you take me to be to this Gentlewoman, Heh?

Fri. Her Father, Sir.

Mer. Audacious Villain, O that I had thee in some private Corner, where none you'd either see or hear us, this Sword shou'd justify my Daughter's Honour; I'de Whore you with a Pox to you, so I wou'd.

Fri. Your Pardon, Sir, I only did inform you as a Friend, that by your fatherly Admonitions, you might refrain her from her undecent Course.

Mer. Pox o' your friendly Intelligence.

Fri. The Jewels which her Husband did present her, as the first Sign and Confirmation of the happy Contract, she to my certain Knowledg has given to——

Mer. To whom, to whom thou wicked Slanderer? tell me, Sarrah, quickly, quick, quick.

Fri. To Summerfield.

Mer. Ha, ha, ha, the Fool makes me laugh; Ha, ha, ha, why 'twas but just now that I saw e'm on her Neck and Arms.

Fri. She was no Woman, had she not the Sense to get them against her Husband's coming.

Mer. But pray tell me, how is't possible that she cou'd part with 'em, when they are lock't on, and the Key with her Husband?

Fri. O, Sir, that's no Question to be ask'd in these Times: Women have found a way to make use of other Keys besides their Husbands: And no doubt but Summerfield has got a Key will open your Daughter's lock as well as Bonvile's.

Mer. Sirrah you lie, you lie Sirrah; and I'le tell thee thou ly's, again and again, so I will. Nay, and I were to pay a 100 Pounds for every Lie I give thee, as Men do Twelve-pence for every Oath they swear, I wou'd spend all the Thousands I am worth, in giving thee the Lie. 'Tis likely indeed, that such a brave Gentleman as Summerfield, that fought at Sea like a Dragon to save my Life, should shorten my Days on Land in ruining my Daughter; therefore once more I tell you you Lie.

Fri. 'Tis very well.

Me. Do you hear Sir, have you told this Lie to any body else but me?

Fri. I am no Informer, Sir.

Mer. Why then for fear you shou'd, do ye see, draw, [Draws] Draw, I say, I am not so old but I can make a shift to cut your Throat still; I'le spoil your Carking, I'le warrant ye.

Enter Bonvile and Clara.

A Pox on't, here's my Son-in-Law come to hinder me, Duce take him cou'd he not stay a little longer? D'ye hear Sir, begon, leave this Place immediately, or I'le—I'le—I'le—Gad I cou'd find in my Heart, so I cou'd, but be gone.

Fri. Bonvile here with Clara too, excellent. This goes to Arabella, and may it encrease the Storm.

[Exit Frie.

Bon. My Father in Anger.

Mer. O Son, Son, Son! dear Boy, welcome home, Od's bobs you are.

Bon. I humbly thank you, Sir; but am sorry to see you so disturb'd.

Mer. Nothing, nothing, only Mr. Friendly and I have had a Word or two, that's all, that's all.

Bon. About my going with him, I suppose; but that's past, and I hope, Sir, you'l be so kind as at my Request to pardon him.

Mer. Indeed Son it was something else; By the Lord Harry I can't forbear laughing at the Coxcomb, Ha, ha, ha; He told me, Ha, ha, ha, that one Summerfield, a very honest Fellow as ever liv'd, is grown exceeding familiar with my Daughter, your Wife.

Bon. Ha! my Wife.

Mer. Yes, your Wife, and that he had received Love-Tokens from her.

Bon. How, Love-Token from her!

Mer. Aye, aye, Love-Tokens I call'd 'em when I was a young Man: Nay, the Rogue was so impudent to tell me, that she had given him those Jewels which are lock'd about her Neck; Ha, ha, ha.

Bon. The Jewels about her Neck, said you?

Mer.. Aye, what ails you Man that you change Colour so? 'Tis all a Lie Boy I warrant thee: And hadst thou not come just in the Nick of Time, I think o' my Conscience I shou'd have cut his Throat.

Bon. As I will your Daughters if I find her false: Death, Hell, and Furies, am I made a Monster already?

Cla. What, Sir, are you return'd for this?

Mer. Hark y' son, hark you; suppose that this Mr. Friendly shou'd have a secret Inclination to your spouse, d' ye see; and therefore, by reason he can't obtain his Desire, possesses you with Jealousy to make a Breach 'twixt you and your Wife. Od's bobs, I don't know, I can't tell what shou'd be the meaning of his carrying you away on your Wedding-Day, else, heh, Son, heh.

Cla. Has the Italian Plague then infected you, that you stand thus unmov'd?

Enter Summerfield leading Arabella.

But see here's your Bride.

Bon. And her beloved Adulterer with her! Death and Damnation, must I stand still and see this?

Mer. Hey day! what the Matter now?

Ara. Bonvile here with Clara! Alas too true I find what before I scarce dar'd to think was so. Is Bonvile then a Traitor, and false to Arabella?


Cla. Madam, at last I've found the pretious Jewel that you so long have sought in vain.

[To Arab.

Ara. Wear it your self Madam, I lost it, and it must be mine no more.

Cla. What means this sudden Alteration?

Mer. Ods bodikins, as you say, what does she mean? Are ye both mad, heh?

Sum. Sir, I'm come to pay my Respects to you, and humbly beg a farther Knowledg of——.

Bon. Of whom, sweet Sir, my Wife or me?

Sum. Ha! your Wife.

Bon. Yes Sir, my Wife, I think the word needs no explaining.

Mer. Pray, Sir, at my Request bear with him, he's strangely out of Order I assure you.

Bon. The Jewels are as I left 'em ; but the Jewel of her Heart is lost and thrown away.—Madam, I sent you my Will, did you receive it.

Ara. Yes, I did.

Bon. Let me see it.

Ara. You shall.

[Exit Ara.

Bon. Sir, I desire a Word or two in private with you,

[to Summer.

Sum. With all my Heart, Sir.

Mer. What's that, what's that, I'll have no Whispering, Gentlemen.

Enter Arabella with the Will.

Ara. There's your Will, Sir.

[Throws it down, Bonvile takes it up.

Bon. 'Tis well now as you've chang'd your Mind, I'll change this too, and find another to supply your Place: There's no harm done, the Marriage is not yet consummated, and you are free to enjoy any, so am I.

Ara. As you please for that: A Man may make a Garment for the Moon, count all the Stars which twinckle in the Skies, or empty the vast Ocean, Drop by Drop, sooner than please a Mind so light, so various as yours.

Mer. Ods bobs, what's this you talk of, altering your Will?

Bon. Yes, Sir, I am so resolved, and will see 't perform'd within this Hour: My Lawyer lives hard by, and so farewel.

[Exit. Bon.

Mer. Farewel thou peevish Boy, I can alter my Will too so I can, marry can I; I had left him 20000 Pound after my Death, and he shall see I can find another Executor too. Within this Hour did he say, Gad I'll be with one as soon as he, unless he rides Post to the Devil, and that's the nearest way to a Lawyer.

Sum. I'll follow him, and asswage his Passion.

Mer. By no means, Sir.—But now I think on't, I'll go with you, and find him out: But did you ever see the like, did you ever see the like? Come Sir, come follow me

[Exit. Merr. & Summer.

Cla. Dear Arabella what can all this mean?

Ara. Can you be doubtful of the Effect, who are your self the Cause?

Cla. I the Cause, Inform me how?

Ara. O Clara, Clara, your Syrens Voice has drawn my Bonvile from these spotless Virgins Arms, and made me ever wretched!

Cla. Who (if thou ever lov'dst me) tax'd me with a Crime so foul, as I abhor to hear it only named?

Ara. Friendly..

Cla. O Arabella, forgive and pity me, who am indeed the innocent, unhappy Cause of all those Griefs which now afflict you both; which I'll relate in brief, if you will please to withdraw one Moment with me.

Ara. With all my Heart.

Cla. Come then:

And since your Ruine I did first conspire, I'll all appease, thus Fire's expell'd by Fire.


Enter Justice Merryman and Summerfield.

Mer. Sir, do you take me for your Friend?

Sum. Why d' you ask me such a Question, Sir? 'twere base Ingratitude to entertain any other Thought.

Mer. Why then d' ye see, Sir; as you are my Friend, you must not fight my Son Bonvile.

Sum. Not fight him Sir! you amaze me.

Mer. Aye, aye, aye; that's all one: I understand your dumb Signs and your low Whispers, the French Mode all over, to smile and grin a Man in the Face, and at the same time privately cut his Throat. Therefore prithe be ruled by me, and don't fight him, for shou'd you kill him, my poor Girl wou'd break her Heart, quite break her Heart. [Sobs and cries.] I grant that you are wrong'd, and so I dare swear is my dear Child: but he's her Husband, and must be born with, ods bobs he must.

Sum. Heaven be my Witness, I ne're entertain'd a Thought like it!

Mer. That's well, that's well, I am heartily glad on't, ods bobs I am heartily glad.

[Enter Friendly.

But here comes one that has made all this Mischief; and him I'll fight my self for all I'm a Justice of the Peace. Come, come, Sir, Draw, draw; you'll belie my Daughter again wil you? Come, draw, I say, Draw.


Fri. Sir, as I am a Gentleman, I scorn to deny my Words, but there's my Author, whether good or ill.

Mer. Who, he? He, do ye mean him?

Fri. Yes, Sir.

Sum. True, Sir, I am; For, at his Return to Town from Barn-Elms, it was my Chance to meet him; and after a ceremonious Complement or two, I found him diving into my private Thoughts concerning the Bride your Daughter: I, not to be behind-hand with him, join'd Wit with Wit to sound his shallow Soul. I told him then, how her Jewels once were mine; but the manner of my obtaining them, I for my own sake did conceal from him; and now, if you're disposed, I'll here relate it.

Enter Bonvile leading Arabella, Clara and Spruce, Mr. Venter and Mrs. Venter.

Mer. Let it be before all this Company then: What, and my Son and Daughter too so loving again? Nay then all's well, ods bobs it is, and they shall hear it, ods bobs they shall.

Bon. I have heard the Story, Sir, already; and Friendly, you I pardon too, for Enemies in War take all Occasions to undo each other; yet tho I am your Enemy, I'll be generous still, and make you Master of your wish'd for Mistress.

[To Clara.]

Come, Madam, receive this worthier Passion of your Friendly, whom I know you both admire and love.

[Gives her to Friendly.

Next I must obtain your Pardon for my Rashness.

Sum. Sir, 'tis what I first ought to have begg'd of you: And that the World may'nt tax this innocent Lady of a Crime to her purest Thoughts unknown, I'll here begin my Story from my first Acquaintance to this happy Hour.

Mer. Prithy do.

Sum. The first time that I e're beheld her Face, I wou'd have robb'd her.

Mer. Ah Rogue! What, a Thief, a Thief, what wou'd you have robb'd her of?

Sum. Not her Honour, I assure you, Sir, but only of those Jewels which she wears.

Mer. Ods bobs, thou wert an honest Thief, for that I faith he was.

Sum. They being fast, I cou'd not get 'em off without some Harm and Pain to her: which for the Indies I'd not have done. And she, in answer to my Civility, brought me home, and ransom'd them with the full Price in Gold, (with which I made my Venture) and the more to hide my Shame, she honour'd me with the Title of her Kinsman.

Mer. Ay, ay, and so she might well; for she was a little cunning Thief too, to steal the Gold she gave you from her Husband; 'twas all his now, but that's no matter, proceed.

Sum. The rest you know already, Sir.

Mer. Ay, so I do, ods bobs I do, thy Valour my brave Boy, thy Valour, for which I'll do for thee, that thou shalt never need to rob again I warrant thee; ods bobs I will. But come, come, we lose time, for we have another Wedding yet to be perform'd, but that shall be done within.

Sum. Then farewel all ye treacherous Paths of Vice, Which lead Men blindfold to their End, In time like me repent you that are wise, And by Restraint your vicious Courses end.

Ara. Were I to ask of Heaven its greatest Bliss On Earth, it cou'd bestow not one like this. After a Storm the Sun still shines most bright, And from the Chaos sprung the purer Light.

Bon. A Day like this sure yet has never been, Wherein such various Changes e're were seen. Fortune to Day that work'd my Overthrow, Has made me happy in a Minute now. Bless'd with a vertuous Wife my Days I'll spend, And ne're trust Man, lest I mistake my Friend.


Spoke by the City-Bride.

You met with good Intention to be witty, And rally the Grave Cuckolds of the City; But disappointed of your Recreation, I in your Looks can read the Play's Damnation. Lord! how ye stare to find an honest Bride, A thing you think a Monster in Cheapside. Whither you boast that you so often come, And leave your footmen to perform at home. Yet 'tis no little Comfort t' us howe're, You oftner bring th' Estate than get the Heir. Unjustly therefore you your Fortune blame, She's kinder to your Blood that to your Name.

After all this, I know you think it Pity, That I shou'd break the Custom of the City: I hear a Beau cry, 'tis some damn'd Mistaker; A Cheap-side Vertue, City Cuckold maker. This is a Fault no Gentleman can pardon, It gives Cheapside the Sins of Covent-Garden: We must refine on Vice, and take new Measures, Since dull chain'd Cits invade our darling Pleasures.

Take my Advice, employ at home your Backs, Or Locket's Revels may revenge Pontack's: This Cuckolding to you's a losing Trade, That pay for making, and for being made. The Ladies will my Character excuse, And not condemn a Vertue which they use.

_If any here be guilty of Transgression, 'Tis of Necessity, not Inclination: They'd be contented in their proper Houses, Cou'd they reform their unperforming Spouses. Yet if some wanton Appetites there be, How many are there that can fast like me. Those are enow, if I have their Applause, The Poet has his End, and I my Cause.



FIRST YEAR (1946-47)

Numbers 1-4 out of print.

5. Samuel Wesley's Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry (1700) and Essay on Heroic Poetry (1693).

6. Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage (1704) and Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage (1704).

SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)

7. John Gay's The Present State of Wit (1711); and a section on Wit from The English Theophrastus (1702).

8. Rapin's De Carmine Pastorali, translated by Creech (1684).

9. T. Hanmer's (?) Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet (1736).

10. Corbyn Morris' Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc. (1744).

11. Thomas Purney's Discourse on the Pastoral (1717).

12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood Krutch.

THIRD YEAR (1948-1949)

13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), The Theatre (1720).

14. Edward Moore's The Gamester (1753).

15. John Oldmixon's Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley (1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's The British Academy ( 1712).

16. Nevil Payne's Fatal Jealousy (1673).

17. Nicholas Rowe's Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespeare (1709).

18. "Of Genius," in The Occasional Paper, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719); and Aaron Hill's Preface to The Creation (1720).

FOURTH YEAR (1949-1950)

19. Susanna Centlivre's The Busie Body (1709).

20. Lewis Theobold's Preface to The Works of Shakespeare (1734).

21. Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, and Pamela (1754).

22. Samuel Johnson's The Vanity of Human Wishes (1749) and Two Rambler papers (1750).

23. John Dryden's His Majesties Declaration Defended (1681).

24. Pierre Nicole's An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Which from Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing and Rejecting Epigrams, translated by J. V. Cunningham.

FIFTH YEAR (1950-51)

25. Thomas Baker's The Fine Lady's Airs (1709).

26. Charles Macklin's The Man of the World (1792).

27. Frances Reynolds' An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste, and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, etc. (1785).

28. John Evelyn's An Apologie for the Royal Party (1659); and A Panegyric to Charles the Second (1661).

29. Daniel Defoe's A Vindication of the Press (1718).

30. Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper's Letters Concerning Taste, 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong's Miscellanies (1770).

SIXTH YEAR (1951-1952)

31. Thomas Gray's An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard (1751); and The Eton College Manuscript.

32. Prefaces to Fiction; Georges de Scudery's Preface to Ibrahim (1674), etc.

33. Henry Gally's A Critical Essay on Characteristic-Writings (1725).

34. Thomas Tyers' A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1785).

William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California


General Editors

H. RICHARD ARCHER William Andrews Clark Memorial Library

E.N. HOOKER University of California, Los Angeles

R.C. BOYS University of Michigan

JOHN LOFTIS University of California, Los Angeles

The Society exists to make available inexpensive reprints (usually facsimile reproductions) of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century works. The editorial policy of the Society continues unchanged. As in the past, the editors welcome suggestions concerning publications. All income of the Society is devoted to defraying cost of publication and mailing.

All correspondence concerning subscriptions in the United States and Canada should be addressed to the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 2205 West Adams Boulevard, Los Angeles 18, California. Correspondence concerning editorial matters may be addressed to any of the general editors. The membership fee is $3.00 a year for subscribers in the United States and Canada and 15/- for subscribers in Great Britain and Europe. British and European subscribers should address B. H. Blackwell, Broad Street, Oxford, England.

Publications for the sixth year [1951-1952]

(At least six items, most of them from the following list, will be reprinted.)

THOMAS GRAY: An Elegy Writt in a Country Church Yard (1751). Introduction by George Sherburn.

JAMES BOSWELL, ANDREW ERSKINE, and GEORGE DEMPSTER: Critical Strictures on the New Tragedy of Elvira (1763). Introduction by Frederick A. Pottle.

An Essay on the New Species of Writing Founded by Mr. Fielding (1751). Introduction by James A. Work.

HENRY GALLY: A Critical Essay on Characteristic Writing (1725). Introduction by Alexander Chorney.

[JOHN PHILLIPS]: Satyr Against Hypocrits (1655). Introduction by Leon Howard.

Prefaces to Fiction. Selected and with an Introduction by Benjamin Boyce.

THOMAS TYERS: A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson ([1785]). Introduction by Gerald Dennis Meyer.

Publications for the first five years (with the exception of NOS. 1-4, which are out of print) are available at the rate of $3.00 a year. Prices for individual numbers may be obtained by writing to the Society.


Make check or money order payable to THE REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

Transcriber's Notes & Errata Spellings of names, abbreviations and a number of other words, punctuation including the use of apostrophes, use of accents, hyphenation and italicisation are very inconsistent in the text. They have been transcribed as in the text, except for very obvious typographical errors. In the Preface, the underlined words have been represented as italicised words. Superscripts in the Preface have been preceded by carat characters. Embedded stage directions in the text have been left in situ, enclosed in square brackets. End-of-line and centred stage directions in the text have been placed on their own lines. The following words occur in both hyphenated and unhyphenated forms in the text. The number of instances of each word are given in parentheses. Cheap-side (1) Cheapside (2) Hoo-ra (2) Hoora (3) me-thinks (2) methinks (4) Merry-man (2) Merryman (10) who-ever (1) whoever (1) The following obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Error Correction is is is wihin within the thee the the the Names Name Speaker's name omitted. Fri. Salvage Savage


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