Constant Couple].1
______
George Farquhar, the author of this
comedy, was the son of a clergyman in the north of Ireland. He was born in the year
1678, discovered an early taste for literature, and wrote poetic stanzas at ten years
of age.2
In 1694 he was sent to Trinity College, Dublin, and there made such progress in his
studies as to acquire considerable reputation.3 But he was volatile and
poor—the first misfortune led him to expense; the second, to devise means how
to support his extravagance.
The theatre has peculiar charms for men of letters. Whether as a subject of
admiration or animadversion, it is still a source of high amusement; and here Farquhar fixed his choice of a
profession, in the united expectations of pleasure and of profit—he appeared on
the stage as an actor, and was disappointed of both.
The author of this licentious comedy is said to have possessed the advantages of
person, manners, and elocution, to qualify him for an actor; but that he could never
overcome his natural timidity. Courage is a whimsical virtue. It acts upon one man
so
as to
b 2[Page 4] make him expose his
whole body to danger, whilst he dares not venture into the slightest peril one
sentiment of his mind. Such is often the soldier's valour.—Another trembles to
expose his person either to a wound or to the eye of criticism, and yet will dare
to
publish every thought that ever found entrance into his imagination. Such is often
the valour of a poet.
Farquhar, abashed on exhibiting his
person upon the stage, sent boldly thither his most indecorous thoughts, and was
rewarded for his audacity.
In the year 1700 he brought out this comedy of "The Constant Couple; or, A
Trip to the Jubilee." It was then the Jubilee year at Rome, and the author
took advantage of that occurrence to render the title of his drama popular;4 for which cause alone it must be supposed he made any thing in his
play refer to that festival, as no one material point is in any shape connected with
it.
At the time Farquhar was a performer,
a sincere friendship was formed between him and Wilks, the celebrated fine gentleman of the stage—for him, Farquhar wrote the character of Sir
Harry Wildair;5 and Wilks, by the very admirable manner in which he supported the part, divided
with the author those honours which the first appearance of the work obtained
him.
As a proof that this famed actor's abilities, in the representation of the fine
gentlemen of his day, were not over-rated, no actor, since he quitted the stage, has
been wholly successful in the performance of this character; and, from Wilks down to the pre-[Page 5]sent time,
the part has only been supported, with celebrity, by women.6
The noted Mrs. Woffington was
highly extolled in Sir Harry; and Mrs.
Jordan has been no less admired and attractive.
But it must be considered as a disgrace to the memory of the men of fashion, of the
period in which Wildair was brought on the stage, that he has ever since been justly
personated, by no other than the female sex. In this particular, at least, the
present race of fashionable beaux cannot be said to have degenerated; for, happily,
they can be represented by men.
The love story of Standard and Lurewell,7 in this play, is interesting to the reader, though,
in action, an audience scarcely think of either of them; or of any one in the drama,
with whom the hero is not positively concerned. Yet these two lovers, it would seem,
love with all the usual ardour and constancy of gallants and mistresses in plays and
novels—unfortunately, with the same short memories too! Authors, and some who
do not generally deal in wonders, often make persons, the most tenderly attached to
each other, so easily forget the shape, the air, the every feature of the dear
beloved, as to pass, after a few years separation, whole days together, without the
least conjecture that each is the very object of the other's search! Whilst all this
surprising forgetfulness possesses them, as to the figure, face, and mind of him or
her whom they still adore, show either of them but a ring, a bracelet, a mole, a
scar, and here remembrance instantly occupies its place, and both are
b 3[Page 6] immediately inspired
with every sensation which first testified their mutual passion. Still the sober
critic must arraign the strength of this love with the shortness of its recollection;
and charge the renewal of affection for objects that no longer appear the same, to
fickleness rather than to constancy.
The biographers of Farquhar, who
differ in some articles concerning him, all agree that he was married, in the year
1704, to a lady, who was so violently in love with him, that, despairing to win him
by her own attractions, she contrived a vast scheme of imposition, by which she
allured him into wedlock, with the full conviction that he had married a woman of
immense fortune.8
The same biographers all bestow the highest praise upon poor Farquhar for having treated this wife
with kindness; humanely forgiving the fault which had deprived him of that liberty
he
was known peculiarly to prize, and reduced him to the utmost poverty, in order to
support her and her children.
This woman, whose pretended love was of such fatal import to its object, not long
enjoyed her selfish happiness—her husband's health gradually declined, and he
died four years after his marriage. It is related that he met death with fortitude
and cheerfulness. He could scarcely do otherwise, when life had become a burden to
him. He had, however, some objects of affection to leave behind, as appears by the
following letter, which he wrote a few days before his decease, and directed to his
friend Wilks:— [Page 7]Dear Bob,
I have not any thing to leave you to perpetuate my
memory, except two helpless girls; look upon them sometimes, and think of him that
was, to the last moment of his life, thine,
George
Farquhar.9
Wilks protected the children—their
mother died in extreme indigence.