heeding Rock, he repelled upon himself the Foam of Caffius. Perhaps the very Words of Shakespeare will let you into my meaning,

Muft I give way, and room to your rafh Choler? Shall I be frighted when a Madman ftares?

There is no Terror, Caffius, in your Looks, &c,

Not but in fome part of this Scene, where he reproaches Caffius, his Temper is not under this Check, but opens into that Warmth which be comes a Man of Virtue; yet this is that hafty Spark of Anger, which Brutus himself endeayours to excufe.

But with whatever ftrength of Nature we fee the Poet fhew, at once, the Philofopher and the Heroe, yet the Image of the Actor's Excellence will be ftill imperfect to you, unlefs Language could put Colours in our Words to paint the Voice with.

The most that a Vandyke can arrive at, is to make his Portraits of great Perfons feem to think; a Shakefpear goes farther yet, and tells you what his Picture thought; a Betterton fteps beyond them both, and calls them from the Grave, to breathe, and be themselves again, in Feature, Speech and Motion. When the skilful Actor fhews you all thefe Powers at once united, and gratifies at once your Eye, your Ear, your Understanding. To conceive the Pleasure rifing from fuch Harmony, you must have been pre· fent at it, 'tis not to be told you.

There cannot be a ftronger Proof of the Charms of harmonious Elocution, than the many,

even

even unnatural Scenes and Flights of the falfe Sublime it has lifted into Applaufe. In what Raptures have I feen an Audience at the furious Fu ftian and turgid Rants in Nat. Lee's Alexander the Great! For though I can allow this Play a few great Beauties; yet it is not without its extravagant Blemishes. Every Play of the fame Author has more or lefs of them. Let me give you a Sample from this. Alexander in a full Crowd of Courtiers, without being occafionally call'd or provok'd to it, falls into this Rhapfody of Vain-glory.

Can none remember? Yes, I know all must!

And therefore they fhall know it agen,

When Glory like the dazzling Eagle, ftood
Perch'd on my Beaver, in the Granic Flood,
When Fortune's Self,my Standard trembling bore,
And the pale Fates flood frighted on the Shore,
When the Immortals on the Billows rodeo
And I myself appear'd the leading God.

When thefe flowing Numbers came from the Mouth of a Betterton, the Multitude no more defired Senfe to them, than our mufical Connoiffeurs think it effential in the celebrated Airs of an Ita lian Opera. Does not this prove, that there is very near as much Enchantment in the well-governed Voice of an Actor, as in the sweet Pipe of an Eunuch? If I tell you there was no one Tragedy for many Years, more in Favour with the Town than Alexander, to what must we impute this its Command of publick Admiration?: Not to its intrinfick Merit, furely if it fwarms, with paffages like this I have fhewn you. Where

then

then must have lain the Charm that once, made the Publick fo partial to this Tragedy? Why plainly, in the Grace and Harmony of the Actor's Utterance. For the Actor himself is not ac countable for the falfe Poetry of his Author; That, the Hearer is to judge of; if it paffes upon him, the Actor can have no Quarrel to it; who, if the Periods given him are round, fmooth, fpirited, and high founding, even in a falfe Paffion, must throw out the fame Fire and Grace, as may be required in one juftly rifing from Nature; where thofe his Excellencies will then be only more pleafing in proportion to the Tafte of his Hearer. And I am of opinion, that to the extraordinary Succefs of this very Play, we may impute the Corruption of fo many Actors, and Tragick Writers, as were immediately misled by it. The unskilful Actor, who imagin'd all the Merit of delivering thofe blazing Rants, lay only in the Strength, and train'd Exertion of the Voice, began to tear his Lungs, upon every falfe, or flight Occafion, to arrive at the fame Applaufe. And it is from hence I date our having feen the fame Reafon prevalent, for above fifty Years. Thus equally mifguided too, many a barren-brain'd Author has ftream'd into a frothy flowing Style, fignifying roundly nothing but. to keep a little clofer to Betterton.

When this favourite Play, from its being too frequently acted, was worn out, and came to be deferted by the Town, upon the fudden Death of Montfort, who had play'd Alexander with Success, for fome Years, the Part was given to Betterton, which, under this great Difadvantage of the Satiety it had given, he immediately reviv'd with fo new a Lustre, that for three Days together it fill'd the House and had his then declining Strength

been

been equivalent to the Fatigue the Action gave him, it probably might have doubled its Success; an uncommon Inftance of the Power and intrin-. fick Merit of an Actor. This I mention not only to prove what irrefiftable Pleasure may arife from a judicious Elocution, with scarce Senfe to help it, but to fhew you too, that tho' Betterton never wanted Fire and Force, when his Character demanded it; yet, where it was not demanded, he never prostituted his power to the low Ambition of a falfe Applaufe. And further, that when he refigned that toilfome part, the Play, for many Years after never was able to impofe upon the Publick; and I look upon his fo particularly fupporting the falfe Fire and Extravagancies of that Character, to be a more furprifing proof of his Skill, than his being eminent in thofe of Shakespeare; because there, Truth and Nature coming to his Affiftance, he had not the fame Difficulties to combat, and confequently we must be lefs amaz'd at his Succefs, where we are more able to account for it.

?

Once at the acting the laft Scene of this Play of Alexander, Mrs. Barry, who played the Cha racter of Roxana; wounded Mrs. Boutel, who played Statira: The occafion of which I fhall here recite.

Mrs. Boutel was a confiderable Actrefs; the was low of Stature, had very agreeable Features, a good Complexion, but a childish Look Her Voice was weak, tho' very mellow, the generally acted the young innocent Lady whom all the Heroes are mad in Love with, he was a Favourite of the Town; and the Generofity of fome happy Lovers enabled her to quit the Stage before he grew old. LOVOR

It happened these two Perfons before they ap peared to the Audience, unfortunately had fome difpute about a Veil, which Mrs. Boutel by the Partiality of the Property-man obtained; this offending the haughty Roxana, they had warm Difputes behind the Scenes, which spirited the Rivals with fuch a natural Refentment to each other, they were fo violent in performing their Parts, and acted with fuch Vivacity, that Statira on hearing the King was nigh, begs the Gods to help her for that Moment; on which Roxana haftening the defigned Blow, ftruck with fuch Force, that tho' the point of the Dagger was blunted, it made way through Mrs. Boutel's Stays, and entered about a Quarter of an Inch in the Flesh.

This Accident made a great Noife in the Houfe, and alarmed the Town; many different Stories were told; fome affirmed Mrs. Barry was jealous of Mrs. Boutel and Lord Rochefter, which made them fuppofe fhe did it with a Defign to deftroy her: But by all that could be dif covered on the strictest Examination, it was only the Veil thefe two Ladies contended for, and Mrs. Barry being warmed with Anger in her Part, the ftruck the Dagger with lefs Caution than at other Times.

Subject.

But to return to our

Mr. Betterton had fo just a Senfe of what was true or falfe Applaufe, that I have heard him fay, he never thought any Kind of it equal to an attentive Silence; that there were many ways of deceiving an Audience into a loud one; but to keep them hufht and quiet, was an Applause which only Truth and Merit could arrive at: Of which Art, there never was a Mafter equal to himself. From thefe various Excellencies, he

had