THE very favourable reception with which the Pieces I have presented to the Stage, have been honoured by the Public, has given them the appearance of great success; and it is pro­bable that those who were witnesses of their reception, will be surprised to find this Tragedy prefaced by complaints of hard­ship and injury, and to know that it has been productive of a train of mortifications and disappointments to its Author.

It is with the utmost reluctance that I feel myself compelled to enter into the disagreeable circumstances which preceded the re­presentation. This is however necessary, as I now present a Tra­gedy, which I presume to call original, to the cooler inspec­tion of the Reader, though I know that the principal circum­stances of the plot, and the leading traits of character, have appeared in other Plays, previous to the representation of this.

The idea of writing for the Stage struck me by mere accident, and the Runaway was my first literary attempt of any kind. I am as ready, as the severest Critic can wish, to admit that it has all the crudeness of a first attempt. It succeeded however, on the Stage, far beyond my most sanguine expectations; and during its run, which was stopped by the Benefits, was one of the most profitable Plays, both to the Author and Manager, that appears on the records of the Treasury-books at either House.—A success so encouraging opened a new prospect of advantage to my Family, which I have since pursued with alacrity; but this success closed with the unfortunate period in which Mr. Garrick resigned the management of Drury-Lane.

When Mr. Sheridan obtained a share of the Patent, I flattered myself that I had some right to his attention, as Author of the last piece which was produced by his able Predecessor; but the first Winter in which he commenced the management, my Comedy, to use the technical term, was shelf'd. The vanity of a young Author was piqued; and I wrote to Mr. Sheridan, in the civilest terms I could, to remonstrate on the occasion; but of my letter not the least notice was taken. As I was not then informed of Mr. Sheridan's general neglect of letters, I considered this slight as a particular insult to me, especially as the Comedy was not played again that year, but by command of their Majesties, and for the benefit of Performers. I therefore selt myself under a [Page] necessity of presenting my Tragedy at Covent-Garden; but, as I had some reason to dread Mr. Harris's opinions, it was presented to him, in the Summer of 1777, by a Lady of Rank, with the name and sex of the Author concealed. After several weeks of anxious expectation, it was returned, peremptorily rejected. I then waited on him, and avowed the unfortunate Piece, but had little reason to flatter myself with the circumstances of my re­ception: Mr. Harris to d me, that there was no hope from alte­ration; that the Play was unfit for the Stage, and that he was convinced it never could be made fit: he disliked the whole idea of Gondibert's situation; and thought every incident of the Fifth Act inadmissible, as he believed no audience would hear it. The last part of this opinion surprised me, as I had conceived the Fifth Act was the principal strength of the Piece; but I was compelled to submit: Nor is its rejection the injury of which I complain; had the ashes of my Tragedy rested undisturbed, I might have mourned over them; but I would have mourned in silence.

The Tragedy of Percy was soon after announced. I attended its representation with anxious curiosity, at this Play had been approved by that judgement which had decided so severely on mine. At the opening of the Piece, I was much concerned to see an old English story attempted, though it bore little resem­blance to the legendary tales of Percy and Douglas; and that so much was said of Chivalry, and of expeditions to the Holy Land—circumstances which, though finely calculated for the Stage, had been much neglected by our Poets, in favour of the tales of Greek and Roman antiquity. Yet, as the Crusades are common histo­rical facts, I could only consider my being in some measure anticipated, as unfortunate. But I can hardly describe my astonishment, or distress, when I saw Raby, the Father of the Heroine, appear in almost the same situation with Westmoreland; and resent his Son-in-law's imputation on the honour of his Daughter, in a train of ideas exactly similar to those which I had given to the Father of Adina; and that he even spoke se­veral lines nearly verbatim; which will be found on comparing the two Tragedies.

I learnt from the Papers of next day, that Percy was a Transla­tion from a Tragedy called Gabrielle de Vergy, written by M. Belloy. I was soon after informed, by persons who had read the original, (for I am unacquainted with the language) that in M. Belley's Tragedy there is no Father. I had remarked, indeed, during the representation, that Raby seemed to have no connection with the plot; he was out of the way during all the business of the Play, and returned just time enough to challenge the defamer of his Daughter, and to call himself her Champion; which however neither introduces, nor retards a single event,

[Page iii] Various were my conjectures on this occasion; but prudence suggested a cautious silence, as I had still hopes at Drury-Lane. Mr. Sheridan received me infi [...]itely better than I expected, and regretted that I had not brought my Piece before, as Mr. Jephson and Mr. Craddock had each a Tragedy promised for the next Win­ter, (1778-9) which must put it off another Season; but assured me, in the most explicit terms, that no other Tragedy should come be­fore it, provided it was proper for the Stage; which, he added in a very polite manner, he had no doubt of. He soon after received my Farce of Who's the Dupe? with equal frankness, and promised that it should be brought out in the best part of the Season, as some recompence for the delay of my Tragedy. More than satisfied, happy with my prospects, I had only to re­gret that I had misapprehended his neglect of my letter, and caused myself so many uneasy hours.

The Law of Lombardy was soon after put into Rehearsal, and I learnt, with great surprise, that it bore a resemblance to Albina in the conduct of the Piece, though not in the Story or Cha­racters. I was greatly alarmed at the idea of more anticipation; which, whether accidental or otherwise, was destructive of every prospect of reputation or advantage to me. This resemblance was mentioned to Mr. Sheridan; and I thought myself happy when, by his interposition, Mr. Harris was prevailed on to read the Tragedy, on the suggestion that some alteration had been made; and they acknowledged that, if both Pieces were entitled to the Stage, the only means of doing justice to both, was to bring them out, at the same time, at different Houses; otherwise the novelty of one of them must be destroyed—and the idea of Rival Tragedies might be as advantageous as that of Rival Actors had been on some particular occasions. This matter, of very anxious expectation, was suspended near a month, as Mr. Sheridan met with great difficulty in finding the Copy of the Tragedy. In the mean-time, the speaking Pantomime of the Touchstone was brought out; and, as I was then in great good-humour with Mr. Harris, I had a pleasure in endeavouring to suggest some useful alterations, and was happy when he accepted the new scene of Lady Fashion's Rout, which I considered as an earnest that he intended to accept the Tragedy. Mr. Sheridan at length found Albina, and I at­tended him by appointment. On this occasion I waited three hours, (which was rather longer than he had ever made me wait before): he came at length with the Tragedy in his hand; and I feel myself too much flattered by what he then said, to omit it, whatever length it may add to my tale.

He made a thousand apologies, (and in apologies for negli­gence Mr. Sheridan is remarkably easy and successful) but said he had brought the best in his hand, which was my Tra­gedy, saying, ‘"I have now read every word of it. I was de­termined [Page iv] not to see you 'till I had; and this it is that has kept me so long. Before I enter into particulars, I will tell you that I think your Tragedy a very good one; it will do you much honour, and be of service to the Theatre."’On my acknowledgements, he added, ‘"Upon my word, I really think what I say; and, without a compliment, I am surprised that such a Tragedy could have been refused. Mr. Harris must have seen it when his head was full of other business: if he had read it attentively, he could not have refused it. This Tra­gedy has a right to the Stage: it must and shall be done."’

The Tragedy was then opened, and Mr. Sheridan shewed me several indentings against lines which he wished me to consider. He said the Characters were very strongly drawn, and the Story interesting; and frequently pointed out passages, which, on account of the Poetry, or the Thought, he was pleased to admire. The only objection of importance was, that he thought Gondibert should not see, or mention, the Bridal Bed, in the last Scene: but, on my attempting a timorous defence, he added, ‘"Don't alter this, or any other passage, unless it strikes you as it does me; you ought to be tenacious: every original Writer must give up passages with difficulty: it is only Translators, and Borrowers, who are so ready to comply with every hint that is proposed."’

The judgement pronounced by Mr. Sheridan made me par­ticularly happy, as Mr. Harris had promised, the same morning, that he would be guided by Mr. Sheridan's opinion, who said he would give the Tragedy to Mr. Harris himself, and tell him what he thought of it. This was adding favour to favour; and my thanks, I believe, sufficiently expressed my sentiments.

Mr. Harris, a few days afterwards, took my Tragedy, as he imagined, into the country; but, on opening it, found that Mr. Sheridan had, by mistake, given him a Comedy. This occa­sioned another week's suspence: it was then however obtained and read; and I had scarce a doubt, considering every circum­stance, that it would be put into immediate Rehearsal.

All my hopes were however confounded by Mr. Harris's per­severing with inflexible steadiness in his former opinion. He said, there had been no material alterations, (which was certainly true;) and that it was still his opinion, that the Tragedy could never be made fit for the Stage. When he was reminded that Mr. Sheridan entertained a very different opinion of it, he re­plied, ‘"I don't believe he has read it: he may have dipped into it; but I am convinced he has not read it through."’ This was afterwards discussed in the presence of both, when Mr. Sheridan assured Mr. Harris that he had read the whole, and that it was his opinion it ought to be done; but Mr. Harris remained inflexible.

[Page v] When I next saw Mr. Sheridan, it was on the subject of my Farce. He observed me dispirited, and kindly taking my hand, said, ‘"Never mind 'em; you and I will shew that we know a good Tragedy."’

This Farce Mr. Harris had offered to take, and put into im­mediate Rehearsal; but, as I had then no doubt of its being played in an advantageous part of the season at Drury-Lane, I had no inducement to change the House for which it was in­tended. Who's the Dupe, however, in consequence of repeated breaches of appointments and promises, was not produced till the middle of the Benefits, when it could not have a regular run; and I was then to pay an Hundred Guineas (Thirty of which had been added by the present Managers) for the chance of a Bene­fit, at a time when the current business of the Theatre would not produce that Sum.

The pecuniary disappointment I did not consider as material in this instance, as I hoped that the applause with which the Farce was uniformly received, would have put an end to the difficulty of getting my Pieces on the Stage, which was infinitely more harrassing to my mind than the labour of producing them. I was however soon after greatly hurt, to hear that Mr. Sheridan evaded the subject when it was accidentally men [...]ioned, and advised me to write a Comedy.—It was necessary, for this purpose, that I should have some Comic ideas; and they were all completely driven from my mind by the vexations I had undergone. I had indeed made some progress in writing a Piece founded on Turkish manners, the Scene of which is laid in Asia, and slattered myself with success from the novelty of the attempt; but it lies, and must lie, in its present state, till I have reason to believe it will meet with a fair and candid reception from the Theatres.

Mr. Craddock's Tragedy was then preparing for rehearsal, and the parts given out; but another Play of Miss More's was dis­covered to be nearly finished; and Mr. Harris was so eager to bring it out, though it was then near the conclusion of the season, that she has said he would hardly give her time to finish it. There was only one capital Actress at either House, who would undertake a new part in May; and, though she belonged to Drury-Lane, she was cast in Miss More's Pray at Covent-Garden, in consequence of the levelling power of the Coalition; and Mr. Craddock's Play was put off 'till next season.

Another Play by Miss More alarmed me greatly. The terror of suffering again what I had felt at Percy, induced me to write to her in much agitation; a d I am sorry that I was prevented f [...]om sending that Letter, and induced to believe it was impossible that the same palpable resemblance could again happen. Under this conviction I attended the representation, and heard with astonish­ment, [Page vi] what appeared to me to be every essential circumstance in the Plot, and Character, of my Play; and to observe, that it was changed principally in those places which had been objected to in mine. In Orlando, as in Gond [...]bert, the action springs from Love, which took its rise in a situation wherein Hope was im­possible; though the object is changed, from the Widow of his Brother, to the betrothed Mistress of his Friend.

The character and offices of Editha were given, though the sex was changed. From the same motive of aggrandizing his fortune, though without the same stimulus of a degraded situation, he worms himself into the considence of the despairing Lover, and persuades him that he is secretly beloved by Isabella, whilst she receives the addresses of another. Orlando breaks into a rhapsody similar to that of Gondibert, persuades himself he had seen many proofs of that concealed passion, and gives himself up to the guidance of his artful Counsellor; which produces a cata­strophe that is nearly the same. Orlando, in the dark, intend­ing to stab Rivers, by a fortunate mistake stabs Bertrand; and the principal situation of the catastrophe is produced exactly in the same manner in both Plays; which is, by the critical en­trance of the person supposed to be murdered. The greater part of this, however, passes behind the scenes in Fatal Falsehood; by which the dramatic effect is weakened; but the principal ob­jections made to mine, are removed. The character of the Sister of Rivers, and other parts of the Play, differ from mine; but there is a scene between the Father and his Daughter, on her being rejected by Orlando, that bears the same resemblance, in the literal expression, to the scene between Westmoreland and Albina, in the fourth Act of this Play, as the scene in Percy did to that between him and Edward.

How all these wonderful resemblances happened, it is impossible for me to know—nor do I know that Miss More ever saw my Tragedy—it was in Mr. Garrick's possession (under the name of Edwina) soon after the conclusion of the season in which he he left the Stage; about which time, I have since been in­formed, Miss More was an inmate at Hampton, and that the Play, afterwards called Percy, was then translating. My Tra­gedy was afterwards in Mr. Harris's Closet, at the same time with Percy, and again nearly at the same time with Fatal Falsehood. I know that Managers are continually employed in giving advice, and in suggesting alternations to Authors; and I have frequently heard, before I had any experience in this anxious warfare, of the danger when once an idea is afloat in the Theatrical Hemi­sphere, of its getting into other plays. Amidst the croud of Plots, and Stage Contrivances, in which a Manager is involv'd, recol­lection is too frequently mistaken for the suggestions of imagination.

[Page vii] Should it, after all, appear to the Public, that there is nothing more in these repeated resemblances, than what may be accounted for by supposing a similarity in our minds; and that, by some wonderful coincidence, Miss More and I have but one common stock of ideas between us, I have only to lament that the whole misfortune of this similarity has fallen upon me: and, as in this case, we must continue writing in the same track, it seems reasonable that we should have our productions brought forward in turn; instead of which Miss More has had two Tragedies brought out, both of which were written since mine, whilst I struggled for the representation of this, in vain. But, as there seems to be little hope of my obtaining this, or any other favour, from the Winter Managers, I presume at least, that, as I do not pretend to prove—what it is impossible for me to know—that Miss More ever read, or copied me, that it will be admitted that I have not copied her; had I not been able to ascertain the fact, that my Tragedy was written long before Percy and Fatal Falsehood appeared, no proof would have been required, beyond their extreme similarity, that I had been guilty of the grossest Plagiarism.

I now found myself deprived of all hope of Albina's appearing to the Public as an Original Play; yet I still conceived myself sure of its being represented at Drury-Lane the next Season: but I soon after accidentally learnt, that Mr. Sheridan had promised another Tragedy; and, as Mr. Craddock's had been put off, I well knew that three would not be done:—this, with his evading the subject, and saying that he thought Mr. Harris would still do it, reduced me to the disagreeable necessity of asking an explicit declaration, when I heard with inexpressible astonishment—‘"That he neyer intended to do the Play at Drury-Lane, and that the next Season was engaged to Mr. Craddock, and another Gen­tleman."’On being reminded of his promises and encomiums, he said—‘"It was still his opinion, that the Tragedy was a very good one, that it ought not to have been refused, and that he had proposed to prevail on Mr. Harris after all to bring it out; but, as this had been improperly mentioned to Mr. Harris, there was now an end of it."’ I was then charged with having pieced conversations together, which Mr. Sheridan said should never happen again; and, from the whole of his behaviour, it appeared to me that he meant this to close his doors against me.

This most injurious and unaccountable conduct appears to me to be the effect of that coalition of the Theatres, which, by uniting the interests and prejudices of the Managers, deprives an Author of all hope, after a Piece has been rejected by one. Had Mr. Sheridan been unconnected with Covent-Garden, I have no doubt, from the opinion he conceived of my Tragedy, but that it would have been brought out in a most advantageous [Page viii] manner. Ideas of rivalship, which is the natural and proper effect of two Houses, would have been as favourable to me, as their union has been ruinous.

The morning succeeding my interview with Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Colman was asked to bring out a Tragedy for me, at the Haymarket, which both the Winter Managers had refused. His answer was—When an Author of reputation thinks proper to bring me a Piece, I don't think I have a right to deliberate. If Mrs. Cowley invites the Town to a Tragedy at the Haymarket, I am only the Midwife, to give it a safe delivery to the World; when one does not know a Writer, it is different.

This candid and liberal answer I have great pleasure in re­cording. The Tragedy, when read, drew an approbation not less warm from Mr. Colman, than from Mr. Sheridan: and it was not merely praise; Mr. Colman put it into immediate rehear­sal, for which I think myself under the highest obligation, as Tragedy is inconsistent with the sportive Genius of the Haymarket; and there was little hope of advantage equal to the expensive pre­paration of a regular Tragedy. It was however presented, with no other alteration than the curtailments, which were necessary, on account of the length, where the time of representation is shorter than in the Winter Theatres—and with the disadvantage of ha­ving one of its principal ^* Characters performed in a style which excited laughter; yet it was received with a degree of applause, for which I should be ungrateful, were I not vain of it.

Had I taken up my pen merely in pursuit of applause, I should have been completely gratified; but this, though so ostentatiously held out as the motive for productions in the Poetic line, has seldom, in any age or country, produced works of any consider­able reputation. Dramatic Writers, in particular, have always sought for support from their labour, which is too great to be undertaken for amusement. This may appear a vulgar topic; but to me it is a very serious subject of complaint, that, by the conduct of the Winter Managers, I have been deprived of a rea­sonable prospect of several hundred pounds, and have spent years of fruitless anxiety and trouble. My productions have been uniformly received by the Public with applause; yet I find the doors of the Winter Theatres shut against me.—To this severe fate I most reluctantly submit.