THE ORATORS. BY FOOTE. THE DRAMATIS PERSONEE ARE, FOOTE, representing a Lecturer upon Oratory-his Pupils-and the Spectators. Enter WILL TIREHACK and HARRY SCAMPER, booted, with whips in their hands, into a sidebox. Scam. Psha! zounds! pr'ythee, Will, let us go; what signifies our staying here! Tire. Nay, but tarry a little: besides, you know we promised to give Poll Bayless and Bett Skinner the meeting. Scam. No matter; we shall he sure to find them at three, at the Shakespeare. Tire. But as we are here, Harry, let us know a little what 'tis about? Scam. About! Why lectures, you fool! Have not you read the bills? and we have plenty of them at Oxford, you know. Tire. Well, but for all that there may be fun. Scam. Why, then, stay and enjoy it yourself; and I'll step to the Bull and Gate, and call upon Jerry Lack-Latin and my horse. We shall see you at three? [Rising. Tire. Nay, but, pr'ythee, stay. Tire. Halloo, Harry! Harry- [Returning. Tire. Here's Poll Bayless just come into the gallery. Scam. No Tire. She is, by Scam. [Looking.] Yes, faith! it is she, sure enough-How goes it, Poll? Tire. Well, now, we shall have you, I hope? Scam. If I thought we should get any fun. Tire. I'll make an inquiry. Halloo ! snuffers, snuffers! Candle-snuffer. Your pleasure, sir? Tire. What is all this business about here? Snuf. Can't say, sir. Scam. Well, but you could if you would; let us into the secret! Snuf. Not I, upon my honour! Tire. Your honour, you son of a whore! D'ye hear? bid your master come hither; we want to ask him a question. Snuf. I will. [Exit. Tire. Scamper, will you ask him, or shall I? Suds. Oh! there was no danger of that—yes, yes, I got it all hollow; but now to come to the marrow of the business. Well, Alice, says I, now I am chosen, what's next to be done? Why now, says Alice says she, thee must learn to make speeches; why dost not see what purferment neighbour Grogham has got; why, man, 'tis all brought about by his speechifying. I tell thee what, Ephraim, if thou canst but once learn to lay down the law, there's no knowing to what thee mayest rise Foote. Your lady had reason. Suds. Why, I thought so, too; and as good luck would have it, who should come into the city, in the very nick of time, but master professor along with his lectures-Adod, away in a hurry Alice and I danced to Pewterer's Hall. Foote. You improved, I hope? Süds. O lud! it is unknown what knowledge we got! We can read-Oh! we never stop to spell a word now-And then he told us such things about verbs, and nouns, and adverbs, that never entered our heads before, and emphasis, and accent; Heaven bless us! I do not think there had been such things in the world, Foote. And have you speechified yet? Suds. Soft; soft and fair! we must walk before we can run-I think I have laid a pretty Scam. What, about the lectures? ay, but that's all slang, I suppose; no, no. No tricks upon travellers; no, we know better-What, are there any more of you; or do you do it all your-foundation. The mansion-house was not built self?. Foote. If I was in want of comedians, you, gentlemen, are kind enough to lend me a lift; but, upon my word, my intentions, as the bill will inform you, are serious Tire. Are they? then I'll have my money again. What, do you think we come to London to learn any thing? Come, Will. [Going. Foote. Hold, gentlemen; I will detain you, if possible. What is it you expect? Scaw. To be jolly and laugh, to be sure- Tire. At what-damme, I don't know-at you, and your frolics and fancies Foote. If that is all you desire, why, perhaps, we shan't disappoint you Scam. Shan't you? why, that is an honest fellow-come, begin in a day, Master Foote. But to go on with my tale; my dame, one day looking over the papers, came running to me; now, Ephraim, says she, thy business is done; rare news, lad; here is a man, at the other end of the town, that will make thee a speccher at once-and out she pulled your proposals. Ah, Alice, says I, thee be'st but a fool; why, I know that man, he is all upon his fun; he lecture! why, 'tis all but a bam—well, 'tis but seeing, says she; so wolens, nolens, she would have me come hither: now, if so be you be serious, I shall think my money wisely bestowed; but if it be only your comical works, I can tell you, you shall see me no more. Foote. Sir, I should be extremely sorry to lose you, if I knew but what would content you. Suds. Why, I want to be made an orator on; and to speak specches, as I tell you, at our meet Foote. But you'll be so kind as not to inter-ings, about politics, and peace, and addresses, rupt me? Scam. Never fear. Foote. Ladies and gentlemen [SUDS from the opposite box calls to FOOTE, and stops him short.] Suds. Stop a minute! may I be permitted to speak? Foote. Doubtless, sir. Suds. Why, the affair is this. My wife Alice -for, you must know, my name is Ephraim Suds, I am a soap-boiler in the city-took it into her head, and nothing would serve her turn but that I must be a common councilman this year; for, says Alice, says she, it is the onliest way to rise in the world. Foote. A just observation! you succeeded? and the new bridge, and all them kind of things, Foote. Why, with your happy talents, I should think much might be done. Suds. I am proud to hear you say so; indeed I am. I did speechify once at a vestry, concerning new-lettering the church-buckets, and came off cutely enough; and, to say the truth, that was the thing that provoked me to go to Pewterer's Hall. [Sits down again. Foote. Well, sir, I flatter myself that, in proportion to the difference of abilities in your two instructors, you will here make a tolerable progress. But now, sir, with your favour, we will proceed to explain the nature of our design; and I hope, in the process, you, gentlemen, will find entertainment, and you, sir, information. MR. FOOTE then proceeds in his lecture. - My plan, gentlemen, is to be considered as a superstructure on that admirable foundation laid by the modern professor of English, both our labours tending to the same general end, the perfectioning of our countrymen in a most essential article, the right use of their native language. The English orators are to be devided into four distinct classes, the pulpit, the senate, the bar, and the stage. With the first of these branches, the pulpit, I shan't interfere; and, indeed, so few people, now, of consequence and consideration, frequent the churches, that the art is scarce worth cultivation. The bar Scam. Pshaw! there's enough of this dull prosing; come, give us a little of something that's funny; you talked about pupils. Could not we see them? Foote. Rather too precipitate, sir; but, however, in some measure to satisfy you, and demonstrate the success of our scheme, give me leave to introduce to you a most extraordinary instance, in the person of a young Highlander. It is not altogether a year since this astonishing subject spoke nothing but Erse. Encouraged by the prodigies of my brother professors's skill, whose fame, like the Chevalier Taylor's, pierces the remotest regions, his relations were tempted to send this young genius to Edinburgh; where he went through a regular course of the professor's lectures, to finish his studies; he has been about six weeks under my care, and, considering the time, I think you will be amazed at his progress. Donald! Enter DONALD. Don. What's yer wull, sir? Foote. Will you give these ladies and gentlemen a proof of your skill? Don. Ali, ye wad ha' a specimen of my oratorical art? Foote. If you please. Don. In gude troth an ye sal; wul ye gi me a topic? Foote. Oh, choose for yourself. Don. It's aw ane to Donald. Foote. What think you of a short panegyric on the science we are treating of? Don. On oratory? Wi' aw my heart. Foote. Mind your action; let that accompany your words Don. Dunna heed, man-the topic I presume to haundle, is the miraculous gifts of an orator, wha, by the bare power of his words, leads men, women, and bairns, as he lists Scam. And who? Don. [Tartly.]-Men, women, and bairns. Scam. Bairns! who are they? Foote. Oh, children-his meaning is obvious enough. Don. Ay, ay; men, women, and bairns, whereever he lists. And first for the antiquity of the art-Ken ye, my lads, wha was the first orator? Mayhap, ye think it was Tully the Latinist? Ye : are wide o' the mark or Demosthenes the Greek? In gude troth, ye're as far off as before: wha was it, then? It was e'en that arch chiel, the deevil himsel Scam. [Hastily.]-The devil it was! How do you prove that? Don. Guds zounds, mun, ye brak the thrid of my harang; an ye'll but haud your tongue, I'se prove it as plain as a pike-staff. Tire. Be quiet, Will, and let him go on. Don. I say it was that arch chiel, the deevil himsel. Ye ken weel, my lads, how Adam and Eve were planted in Eden, wi' plenty o' bannocks and kail, and aw that they wished, but were prohibited the eating of pepins Scam. Apples Don. Weel, weel, and are na pepins and apples aw the same thing? Foote. Nay, pray, gentlemen, hear him out.— Go on with your pepins. Don. Prohibited the eating of pepins; upon which, what does me the orator Satan, but he whispers a saft speech in her lug; egod, our grannum fell to in an instant, and eat a pepin without staying to pare it—[Addresses himself to the Oxonians.]—Ken ye, lads, wha was the first orator, now? Tire. [To SCAM.-What say you to that? Tire. Hold your jaw, and go on ye Don. Now, we come to the definition of an orator: and it is from the Latin words, oro, orare, to intreat, or perswad; and how? by the means o' elocution or argument, which argument consists o❜letters, which letters joined, mak syllables, which syllables compounded, mak words, which words combined, mak sentences or periods, or which aw together, mak an orator; so the first gift of an orator is words Scam. Here, Donald, you are out. Scam. Words the first gift of an orator! No, Donald, no, at school I learned better than that, do'st not remember, Will, what is the first perfection of an orator? action; the second, action; the third, action. Tire. Right, right, Harry, as right as my nail; there, Donald, I think, he has given you a doseDon. An ye stay me in the midst o' my argu ment Scam. Why don't you stick to truth? Tire. Damn your logic! Don. Mighty weel- Maister Foote, how ca' ye this usage? Foote. Oh, never mind hem—proceed. Don. In gude troth, I'se no say ane word mare. Foote. Finish, finish, Donald. Don. Ah! they have jumbled aw my ideas together! but an they will enter in a fair argumentation, I'se convince them that Donald Macgregor is mare than a match. Scam. You be Don. Very weel Foote. Nay, but my dear DonaldDon. Hands aff, Maister Foote-I ha' finished my tale; the deel a word mare sal ye get out o' Donald; yer servant, sir. [Exit DoN. Foote. You see, gentlemen, what your impatience has lost us. Scam. Rot him, let him go! But is this fellow one of your pupils? Why, what a damnable twang he has got, with his men, women, and bairns Foote. His pronunciation is, I own, a little irregular; but then consider he is but merely a novice; why, even in his present condition, he makes no bad figure for his five minutes at the SCENE I.-A Hall of Justice. Enter FOOTE. ACT II. tain street called Cock-lane, in the county of Middlesex, maliciously, treacherously, wickedly, and wilfully, by certaiu thumpings, knockings, scratchings, and flutterings, against doors, walls, wainscots, bedsteads, and bed-posts, disturb, annoy, assault, and terrify divers innocent, inoffensive, harmless, quiet, simple people, residing in, at, near, or about the said Cock-lane, and elsewhere, in the said county of Middlesex, to the great prejudice of said people in said county.' How say you? Guilty or Foote. The first species of oratory we are to demonstrate our skill in, is that of the bar; and in order to give our lecture an air of reality, you are to suppose this a court of justice, furnished with proper ministers to discharge the necessary functions. But to supply these gentlemen with business, we must likewise institute an imaginary cause; and, that the whole may be ideal, let it be the prosecution of an imaginary being; I Coun. [Stops the Clerk short.] May it please mean the phantom of Cock-lane, a phenomenon your worship-hem-I am counsel in this cause that has much puzzled the brains, and terrified for the ghost-hem-and before I can permit the minds, of many of our fellow-subjects. You her to plead, I have an objection to make, that are to consider, ladies and gentlemen, that the is--hem-I shall object to her pleading at all.— language of the bar is a species of oratory dis- Hem-It is the standing law of this country— tinct from every other. It has been observed, hem—and has-hem-always been so allowed, that the ornaments of this profession have not deemed and practised, that-hem-all criminals shone with equal lustre in an assembly near their should be tried per pares, by their equals-hem own hall; the reason assigned, though a plea-—that is-hem-by a jury of equal rank with sant, is not the true one. It has been hinted, that these gentlemen were in want of their briefs. But were that the disease, the remedy would be easy enough; they need only have recourse to the artifice successfully practised by some of their colleagues; instead of having their briefs in their hands, to hide them at the bottom of their hats. [Calls to his pupils, who enter dressed as a You will remember, gentlemen, your proper pauses, repetitions, hums, ha's, and interjections -Now, seat yourselves; and you, the counsel, remember to be mighty dull, and you, the justices, to fall asleep. I must prepare to appear in this cause as a witness. Jus. Clerk, read the indictment. [Exit. Fanny Phantom, you are indicted, That on or before the first day of January, 1762, you, the said Fanny, did, in a certain house, in a cer 2 themselves. Now if this be the case, as the case it is, I-hem-I should be glad to know how my client can be tried in this here manner! And first, who is my client? She is in the indictment called a phantom, a ghost. What is a ghost? a spirit. What is a spirit? a spirit is a thing that exists independently of, and is superior to, flesh and blood. And can any man go for to think, that I can advise my client to submit to be tried by people of inferior rank to herself? certainly no-I therefore humbly move to quash this indictment, unless a jury of ghosts be first had and obtained. [Sits down. Ser. I am, in this cause, counsel against Fanny Phantom the ghost-eh-and notwithstanding the rule laid down by Mr. Prosequi be-chright in the main, yet, here, it can't avail his client a whit. We allow-eh-we do allow, please your worship, that Fanny quoad Phantom-eh-had originally a right to a jury of ghosts; but-eh-if she did, by any act of her own, forfeit this right, her plea cannot be ad mitted. Now, we can prove to your worship, | prove by a cloud of witnesses, that said Fanny did, as specified in the indictment, scratch, knock, and flutter-eh-which said scratchings, knockings, and flutterings-eh-being operations merely peculiar to flesh, blood, and body -eh-we do humbly apprehend-eh-that, by condescending to execute the aforesaid operations, she has waved her privilege as a ghost, and may be tried in the ordinary form, according to the statute so made and provided in the reign of, &c. &c. &c. Your worship's opinion? Tire. Sinoke the justice; he is as fast as a church. Scam. I fancy he has touched the tankard too much this morning; he'll know a good deal of what they have been saying. Jus. [Is waked by the Clerk, who tells him they have pleaded.] Why the objection-ohbrought by Mr. Prosequi, is [Whispers the Clerk.] doubtless provisionally a valid objection; but then, if the culprit has, by an act of her own, defeated her privilege, as asserted in Mr. Serjeant's replicatiou, we conceive she may be legally tried-oh-Besides-oh-Besides, I, I, I can't well see how we could impannel a jury of ghosts; or-oh-how twelve spirits, who have no body at all, can be said to take a corporal oath as required by law-unless, indeed, as in case of the peerage, the prisoner may be tried on their honour. Coun. Your worship's distinction is just; knockings, scratchings, &c. as asserted by Mr. Serjeant Ser. Asserted-Sir, do you doubt my instruc tions? Coun. No interruptions, if you please, Mr. Serjeant; I say as asserted; but can assertions be admitted as proofs ? certainly no Ser. Our evidence is ready Coun. To that we object, to that we object, as it will anticipate the merits--your worship-me, Ser. Your worship— Jus. Why, as you impeach the ghost's privilege, you must produce proofs of her scratchings. Ser. Call Shadrach Bodkin. Clerk. Shadrach Bodkin, come into court. Coun. And how are you certain it was not? Bod. At last, I heard a voice whispering within crying, Shadrach, Shadrach, Shadrach ! cast the things that belong to thee, thy thimble and sheers, and do the things that I bid thee. Coun. And you did? away Bod. Yea, verily Coun. I think I have heard a little of you, Master Bodkin: and so you quitted your business, your wife, and your children? Bod. I did. Coun. You did-But then you communed with other inen's wives? Bod. Yea, and with widows, and with maidens, Coun. How came that about, Shadrach ? Bod. I was moved thereunto by the spirit. Coun. I should rather think by the flesh-I have been told, friend Bodkin, that twelve became pregnant Bod. Thou art deceived-they were barely Ser. Do you know any thing of Fanny the but nine. Phantom? Bod. Yea-I do. Ser. Can you give any account of her thumpings, scratchings, and flutterings? Coun. Why, this was an active spirit. Ser. But to the point, Mr. Prosequi. Coun. Well, then-you say you have heard those scratchings and knockings? |