The Fatal Jealousie (1673) Part 1

The Fatal Jealousie (1673).

by Henry Nevil Payne.

INTRODUCTION

None of Henry Nevil Payne's plays, _The Fatal Jealousie_ (1673), _The Morning Ramble_ (1673), _The Siege of Constantinople_ (1675), bears his name on the t.i.tle-page. Plenty of external evidence exists, however, to prove his claim to them. John Downes, in _Roscius Anglica.n.u.s_ (1708), has this to say: "_Loves Jealousy_ [i.e. _The Fatal Jealousy_], and _The Morning Ramble_. Written by Mr. _Nevil Pain_. Both were very well _Acted_, but after their first run, were laid aside, to make Room for others; the Company having then plenty of new Poets" (ed. Montague Summers, London, n.d., pp. 33-34). "After the Tempest, came the Siege of _Constantinople_, Wrote by Mr. _Nevill Pain_" (_ibid._, p. 35).

Langbaine's _An Account of the English Dramatick Poets_ (1691) gives no author for _The Siege of Constantinople_, but says of _The Fatal Jealousy_ that it is "ascribed by some to Mr. Pane" (p. 531) and of _The Morning Ramble_ that this "Play is said to be written by One Mr. _Pane_, and may be accounted a good Comedy" (p. 541).

We do not have to depend on the early historians of the English drama for certain knowledge that Payne was for a time a dramatist. Though his brief excursion into the theater must later have seemed to him a minor episode in his life, Payne's enemies were aware of the fact that he was a playwright and have written their knowledge into the record of his treasonable activities. For example, the author of a burlesque life of Payne, which contains, so far as I know, the only connected account of his activities, makes this useful remark: "Then [after his return from Ireland in 1672] he composes a Tragedy of a certain Emperour of Constantinople, whom he never knew; but in whose person he vilifies a certain Prince [Charles II], whom he very well knows" (_Modesty Triumphing over Impudence_ ... 1680, pp. 18-19).

As an agent of the Catholic party, Payne had excellent reasons for wis.h.i.+ng to keep his affairs well veiled. What we know of his life has had to be pieced together from information found in state papers, court records, and "histories" of the branches of the d.a.m.nable Popish plots.*

The date of his birth is not known, nor of his death, unless Summers was correct in giving it (without supporting evidence) as 1710 (_The Works of Aphra Behn_, 1915, V, 519).

[Footnote: For this biographical sketch of Payne I have drawn on my "Henry Nevil Payne, Dramatist and Jacobite Conspirator,"

published in _The Parrott Presentation Volume_, Princeton, 1935, pp. 347-381.]

Payne's first opportunity to serve the Catholic party came, apparently, in 1670, when he went to Ireland in the employ of Sir Elisha Leighton, who was private secretary to the new lord lieutenant, Lord Berkeley. By April 1672 Berkeley's pro-Catholic rule had so alienated the city council of Dublin that he was ordered to return to England and the Earl of Ess.e.x was sent out in his place. From Ess.e.x we learn that Payne was deeply involved in the machinations of Berkeley and that he continued to stir up trouble in Ireland even after his return to England.

Back in England, possibly by mid-May, 1672, Payne must have plunged at once into work for the theater. _The Fatal Jealousy_ was performed at the Duke's Theatre in Dorset Garden in August 1672 and _The Morning Ramble_ was shown at the same theater three months later. Both plays were performed before the King (Allerdyce Nicoll, _A History of Restoration Drama_, 1923, p. 309). Payne's third and last play, _The Siege of Constantinople_, which reached the stage in November 1674, is of particular interest in view of his long a.s.sociation with the cause of James, Duke of York. Payne found his plot in the _General Historie of the Turkes_ by Knolles, but he altered history to produce a work which would compliment James. It is significant that there is no prototype in Knolles for Thomazo (James), the brother of the last Christian emperor of Constantinople (Charles). At the end of the play the Turks conquer the city (_sc._, the Dutch and London) and the Emperor is slain. Here was a warning to Englishmen of what would happen if their double-dealing "Lord Chancellor" (Shaftesbury)--the villain of the piece--were to succeed in alienating the two royal brothers.

During the years 1678-1680 Payne's name dodges in and out of the thousands of words written about the Popish plot. He was pretty certainly a friend of Edward Coleman (Secretary to the d.u.c.h.ess of York) who was executed for treason in December, 1678. After a hearing before the Privy Council, Payne was held over for trial and imprisoned in the King's Bench. Confinement did not in the least hinder him from giving aid to the Catholic party in organizing its counter-attack. According to _Mr. Tho. Dangerfields Particular Narrative_ (1679) he was one of the chief devisers of the Presbyterian Plot and, as "chief Pen-man" for the Catholics, the author of several "scandalous books" about their enemies.

Payne was again before the Privy Council in November 1679, but eventually all the princ.i.p.als in the Catholic plots to discredit the government were released.

After the accession of James II Payne kept more respectable company.

References to him during these years say nothing about any work for the theater, but his pen was still busy--from 1685 to 1687 in the cause of religious toleration. In 1685 the Duke of Buckingham published _A Short Discourse upon the Reasonableness of Men's having a Religion or Wors.h.i.+p of G.o.d_. A portion of this pamphlet had been written as a letter to Payne. When Buckingham's work brought on a pamphlet war, Payne (together with William Penn) rushed to his defence. The debate grew hotter when James made the first Declaration of Indulgence in April 1687. Payne was one of the chief controversialists in the war of words that followed.

Another literary friend of these years, and an extravagant admirer of his devotion to the Stuarts, was Aphra Behn. She dedicated her _Fair Jilt_ to Payne in 1688 in terms which suggest that he had favored her in tangible ways.

With the deposition of James, the years of Payne's greatest activity begin. The story of his life for the next twelve years is intricate and exciting, for he has now moved out of the company of writers into the dark world of secret agents and prison-guards. Though he was confined in the Fleet by January 1688/89, Payne went boldly ahead with plans for what would be the first Jacobite conspiracy, the Montgomery Plot. By some means he contrived to escape to Scotland, where his plans had, of course, more fertile soil in which to grow. Once more in custody, he was moved from one prison to another, but the Privy Council was incapable of persuading the Scottish authorities to "put the rogue to it." As more and more evidence came out showing how deeply involved Payne was in the Montgomery Plot, the Scottish Privy Council finally was prevailed upon to put Payne to the torture. On Dec. 10, 1690, he bore the pain of two hours under thumb and leg screws with such fort.i.tude that some of the Councilors were "brangled" and believed that his denials must be the words of an honest man. The Earl of Crawford, one of the witnesses to this, the last occasion in Britain in which a political prisoner was tortured, was so moved that he reported to the Earl of Melville that such manly resolution could come only from a deep religious fervor: "[Payne] did conceive he was acting a thing not only generous towards his friends and accomplices, but likewise so meritorious, that he would thereby save his soule, and be canoniz'd among the saints" (_Letters ...

to George Earl of Melville_, Bannatyne Club, 1843, pp. 582-3).

For nearly eleven years more Payne was moved from one Scottish prison to another, while the Scottish Privy Council sought to turn him over to the English and the Privy Council in London endeavored to force him to trial in Scotland. The truth is that Jacobitism was so rife in high places that they whose duty it would be to prosecute him feared what might happen if he were brought to the bar.

Finally, in February 1700/01, Payne was released. He made his way to the Stuart court at St. Germain, whose incorruptible secret agent he had been for twelve years. It was fitting that the last information we have of him during his life is derived from his "Brief memorial by way of preface to some proposals for your Majesty's service," a detailed letter of advice instructing the exiled king how he might yet recapture his throne (printed in _Original Papers; containing the Secret History of Great Britain_, 1775, I, 602-5). When last heard from, Payne had yet another conspiracy planned and ripened, to submit to his sovereign's approval.

Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ has intrinsic merit. If he had written more works for the theater, he might have been remembered with Southerne and possibly with Otway. But for the scholar this tragedy will be chiefly interesting for the Shakespearean influences to be found in it.

Evidently Payne held Shakespeare in great reverence, and the result is that _The Fatal Jealousy_ is one of the earliest examples of the return to the Shakespearean norm in tragedy after the interlude of the heroic play. Payne ridicules the love and honor theme in _The Morning Ramble_ where he makes Rose say (p. 54):

Love and Honour are the two great Wheels, on which all business moves. The Tradesman cheats you upon his Honour, and like a Lord swears by that, but that he particularly loves you, you should not have it so. No Tragedy, Comedy, Fa.r.s.e, Demi-Fa.r.s.e, or Song nowadayes, but is full of Love and Honour: Your Coffee-drinking Crop-ear'd Little Banded-Secretary, that pretends not to know more of Honour than it's Name, will out of abundance of Love be still sighing and groaning for the Honour of the Nation.

The speaker of the Epilogue to _The Fatal Jealousy_ pointedly reminds the audience that they have listened to a genuine tragedy and not to an heroic play. Its author has not relied on the "rules of art," but hopes he may have succeeded by some "Trick of Nature."

Most obvious of the Shakespearean influences is the jealousy theme in which Don Antonio is modelled on Oth.e.l.lo, Caelia on Desdemona, and Jasper on Iago. My colleague, Professor E.L. Hubler, who has a vast deal of the Shakespearean text in his memory, finds twenty-two possible echoes or parallels. Of these we agree that at least fourteen are certain. The influences strike in most impressively from _Oth.e.l.lo_, _Hamlet_, _Much Ado_, _Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _The Tempest_. Let me cite two or three unmistakable echoes. Jasper's manner of arousing Antonio's jealousy (pp. 17-19) and even his words recall Iago's mental torturing of the Moor in _Oth.e.l.lo_, III, 3. Throughout Gerardo's soliloquy on death, at the opening of Act III, there is continuous reference to Hamlet's "To be or not to be." The antecedent of "madness methodiz'd" (p. 35) is easily spotted, as is the parallel between Flora's dream (p. 63) which will not leave her head and the song that will not go from Desdemona's mind. So far as I can discover, the seekers for Shakespearean allusions in seventeenth-century writing have not located this rich mine.

It is to be regretted that when _The Fatal Jealousy_ came to the stage the company had, as Downes says, "plenty of new poets," and so the play was laid aside after the first run. The performance must have been brilliant. The greatest of Restoration stage villains, Sandford, played Jasper. The parts of Caelia, Eugenia, and the Witch were taken by veteran actors. "Mr. Nath. Leigh" made his second appearance on the stage in this performance as Captain of the Watch. The lecherous Nurse to Caelia was played by the famous Nokes whose sobriquet of "Nurse Nokes" may have come to him with this role rather than from the part he took, seven years later, in Otway's _Caius Marius_.

The text of _The Fatal Jealousy_ presents no special difficulties. Such slight variations as I have found among the eleven copies I have examined--chiefly dropped letters and the imperfect impression of some words--can be accounted for as accidents to be expected in the printing off of the sheets of a single edition. There seems to be no significance in the fact that the t.i.tle-page in some copies shows an ornament placed between the second rule and the word _London_.

The copy of the play here reproduced is owned by the University of Michigan, and is reprinted by permission.

WILLARD THORP Princeton University

PROLOGUE

By Mr. _Smith_.

_To you, great Sovereign Wits, that have such sway, Without Controul to save, or d.a.m.n a Play; That with a pish, my Anthony, or so, Can the best Rally'd sence at once or'e throw; And by this pow'r, that none must question now, Have made the most Rebellious Writers bow, Our Author, here his low Submission brings, Begging your pa.s.s, calls you the Stages Kings; He sayes, nay, on a Play-Book, swears it too, Your pox uppo'nt d.a.m.n it, what's here to do?

Your nods, your winks, nay, your least signs of Wit, Are truer Reason than e're Poet writ, And he observes do much more sway the Pit.

For sitting there h' has seen the lesser gang Of Callow Criticks down their heads to bang; Lending long Ears to all that you should say, So understand, yet never hear the Play: Then in the Tavern swear their time they've lost, And Curse the Poet put e'm to that cost.

And if one would their just Exceptions know, They heard such, such, or such a one say so; And thus in time by your dislikes they rise, To be thought Judges, though indeed but spyes.

This is not fair your Subjects to betray To those that strive to Rival you in sway; That will in time by your expence of wit, Usurp or'e us, and your successors sit.

These and some other dangers to remove, We beg that though this Play you disapprove, Say nothing of it here, and when you're gone, We give that leave you'le take to cry it down; Thus you preserve your pow'r, and we shall be From Fopps, and Demi-Criticks Censure free.

Subdu'd by force, we Tyrants thus obey, But Ladys, you like lawful Monarches sway, You Rule by Love, and Pardon faults with ease, In Subjects that do all they can to please.

By faction they condemn, you by our Peers, And he is guilty sure such Trial fears: And though our Author pleads not guilty now.

And to his Tryal stands, he hopes that you, Will not too strictly his accusers hear, For if this Play can draw from you a Tear, He'l slight the Wits, Half-Wits, and Criticks too; And Judge his strength by his well pleasing you_.

The Fatal Jealousie.

Act the First. Scene the First.

_The Curtain drawn Discovers _Don Antonio_ and _Caelia_ in Morning-Gowns. Chamber and Bed._

_Cael._ My Lord, you well may blame my conduct of that bus'ness, Since it produc'd such dismal Accidents, As my heart trembles but to think upon; Yet for _Don Lewis_'s Innocence and mine, In the contrivance of that Fatal Meeting; I must for ever, during Life, be Champion.

And, as he with his dying breath protested, He ne're meant wrong to you; so am I ready To dye a Martyr to my Innocence.

_Anto._ Come, come, these are but wyles to Palliate things, Can you believe me stupid, or an a.s.s?

To think my Wife should meet a Man i' th' Night; Nay, more; a Man that was my seeming Friend; Yet taken in at Window privately!

Nay, which was most, stay with him two full hours, And in a Room made proper by a Bed, And yet not Cuckold me; the thing's too plain, I do not doubt the deed, which Iv'e Reveng'd In part, by killing him: No, I am mad, That you should think so meanly still of me, As to hope time may alter my belief; Which is by such unerring Reasons fixt: Or else that you suspect my Truth, when I have sworn By all things sacred; nay upon my Honour (Which I am so Jealous of) that if you would Relate the truth of your so close amours, I from my memory would blot it all, And look on you at worst, but as the Widdow Of your dead Couzen _Lewis_.

_Cael._ Good my Lord, Forbear to use these killing Arguments, Which every moment give me many Deaths, Rather be like your self, that's Gen'rous, And kill me once for all; torment me not By giving no belief, either to Vows Or Actions that have spoke my Innocence: Reflect (my Lord) on the unwearied pains Iv'e took to gain your pardon for his Death.

Think with what patience I've suffer'd still Your often starts of Pa.s.sion, which sometimes Have ne're produc'd th' effects of Cruelty.

And without boast, my Lord, you well do know My Friends were much too strong for yours at Court, Then had I but made known your severe Carriage, Or suffer'd your surprizal--'tis too plain; Yoor Life had been a forfeit to the Law.

And were I but the wanton Wife you think me, What wou'd more welcome be then that Revenge-- Here on my knees I beg again, my Lord, You would perswade your self, that what I told you Was cause of that close meeting, was so truly, And no invention; and as this Day Began our Nuptial Joys, so let it end Our Marriage Discords; then shall I have cause To keep it Annually a Festival; In thanks to Heav'n for two such mighty Blessings.

_Anto._ _Caelia_, stand up, I will perswade my self.

By this ---- I will as much, as e're I can, [Kisses her.

That thou art Innocent, for if thou bee'st not, What Woman in the World ought to be thought so?

But prethee be discreet, mannage thy Actions With strictest Rules of Prudence, for if not, Like to a Bow or'e-bent, I shall start back, And break with pa.s.sion on thee: wilt thou be careful?