Complete works of charle.., p.1
Complete Works of Charles and Mary Lamb, page 1
The Complete Works of
CHARLES AND MARY LAMB
(1775-1834) and (1764–1847)
Contents
The Collaborative Works
JOHN WOODVIL
TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE
MRS. LEICESTER’S SCHOOL
POETRY FOR CHILDREN
Charles Lamb’s Fiction
A TALE OF ROSAMUND GRAY AND OLD BLIND MARGARET
THE ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES
Charles Lamb’s Plays
MR H.; OR BEWARE A BAD NAME
THE PAWNBROKER’S DAUGHTER
THE WITCH
THE WIFE’S TRIAL
Charles Lamb’s Non-Fiction
ON THE TRAGEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
WITCHES AND OTHER NIGHT FEARS
ELIA AND THE LAST ESSAYS OF ELIA
RECOLLECTIONS OF CHRIST’S HOSPITAL
MISCELLANEOUS PROSE
Charles Lamb’s Poetry
POEMS FROM BLANK VERSE
THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS
PRINCE DORUS
SATAN IN SEARCH OF A WIFE
ALBUM VERSES
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS
The Poems
LIST OF POEMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER
LIST OF POEMS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
Mary Lamb’s Essay
ON NEEDLE-WORK BY ‘SEMPRONIA’
The Letters
THE LETTERS OF CHARLES AND MARY LAMB
The Criticism
CHARLES LAMB by Thomas de Quincey
ELIA, AND GEOFFREY CRAYON by William Hazlitt
CHARLES LAMB by Walter Pater
CHARLES LAMB by Arthur Symons
CHARLES LAMB by John Cowper Powys
CHARLES LAMB by Charles Edwyn Vaughan
CHARLES LAMB by S. P. B. Mais
CHARLES LAMB by Hattie Tyng Griswold
CHARLES LAMB by Augustine Birrell
THE LETTERS OF CHARLES LAMB by Augustine Birrell
CHARLES LAMB by A. St. John Adcock
The Biographies
CHARLES LAMB by Walter Jerrold
CHARLES LAMB: A MEMOIR by Barry Cornwall
CHARLES LAMB by Alfred Ainger
MARY LAMB by Mrs. Gilchrist
The Delphi Classics Catalogue
© Delphi Classics 2017
Version 1
The Complete Works of
CHARLES AND MARY LAMB
By Delphi Classics, 2017
COPYRIGHT
Complete Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
First published in the United Kingdom in 2017 by Delphi Classics.
© Delphi Classics, 2017.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form other than that in which it is published.
ISBN: 978 1 78656 072 8
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The Collaborative Works
Inner Temple, one of the four Inns of Court in London, 1800 — the birthplace of Charles and Mary Lamb
Inner Temple today
Crown Office Row, Inner Temple — Mary and Charles were born in No. 2 Crown Office Row, which was destroyed during the Second World War.
JOHN WOODVIL
A POETIC DRAMA
John Woodvil was not published until 1802, even though Charles Lamb had begun to compose the play in 1798. It is not one of his better known works and it did little to enhance his literary reputation at the time. Lamb determined to include other ‘fragments’ of work at the end of the drama, which included a poem by his sister, Mary. The play was not successful and was not staged or produced anywhere. It was poorly received by critics and was excoriated by some publications, such as The Annual Review and History of Literature, which accused Lamb of being unable to align his language to his characters with any consistency. The publication also attacked his poetry, declaring it to be representative of a ‘whining style...from which all the graces of language are contemptuously banished’.
The play is set shortly after the Restoration in 1660 and centres on the eponymous John Woodvil. The young man’s father, Sir Walter Woodvil, is a Parliamentarian, who has fled his home and is in hiding from the King’s forces. He is too heavily implicated in the Parliamentarians’ cause to be able to secure a pardon, being a wanted man by the Royalists. John has chosen to befriend and support the Cavaliers and has allowed his father’s house to go to ruin. Sir Walter’s ward, Margaret, is being harassed by Cavalier soldiers and despite John previously courting the young woman, he makes no attempt to defend her and shows no regard for her wellbeing. In a moment of thoughtlessness, John makes a mistake that has devastating consequences for his family.
Title page from 1802
CONTENTS
CHARACTERS
ACT THE FIRST
ACT THE SECOND
ACT THE THIRD
ACT THE FOURTH
ACT THE FIFTH
Charles Lamb as a young man, c. 1804
CHARACTERS
SIR WALTER WOODVIL.
JOHN. }
SIMON. } his sons.
LOVEL. }
GRAY. } Pretended friends of John.
SANDFORD. Sir Walter’s old steward.
MARGARET. Orphan ward of Sir Walter.
FOUR GENTLEMEN. John’s riotous companions.
SERVANTS.
SCENE — for the most part at Sir Walter’s mansion in DEVONSHIRE; at other times in the forest of SHERWOOD.
TIME — soon after the RESTORATION.
* * * * *
ACT THE FIRST
SCENE. — A Servants’ Apartment in Woodvil Hall.
Servants drinking — Time, the morning.
* * * * *
A Song by DANIEL
“When the King enjoys his own again.”
PETER
A delicate song. Where did’st learn it, fellow?
DANIEL Even there, where thou learnest thy oaths and thy politics — at our master’s table. — Where else should a serving-man pick up his poor accomplishments?
MARTIN Well spoken, Daniel. O rare Daniel! — his oaths and his politics! excellent!
FRANCIS
And where did’st pick up thy knavery, Daniel?
PETER
That came to him by inheritance. His family have supplied the shire of
Devon, time out of mind, with good thieves and bad serving-men. All of
his race have come into the world without their conscience.
MARTIN
Good thieves, and bad serving-men! Better and better. I marvel what
Daniel hath got to say in reply.
DANIEL I marvel more when thou wilt say any thing to the purpose, thou shallow serving-man, whose swiftest conceit carries thee no higher than to apprehend with difficulty the stale jests of us thy compeers. When was’t ever known to club thy own particular jest among us?
MARTIN
Most unkind Daniel, to speak such biting things of me!
FRANCIS See — if he hath not brought tears into the poor fellow’s eyes with the saltness of his rebuke.
DANIEL No offence, brother Martin — I meant none. ’Tis true, Heaven gives gifts, and with-holds them. It has been pleased to bestow upon me a nimble invention to the manufacture of a jest; and upon thee, Martin, an indifferent bad capacity to understand my meaning.
MARTIN
Is that all? I am content. Here’s my hand.
FRANCIS Well, I like a little innocent mirth myself, but never could endure bawdry.
DANIEL Quot homines tot sententiae.
MARTIN
And what is that?
DANIEL
’Tis Greek, and argues difference of opinion.
MARTIN
I hope there is none between us.
DANIEL
Here’s to thee, brother Martin. (Drinks.)
MARTIN
And to thee, Daniel. (Drinks.)
FRANCIS
And to thee, Peter. (Drinks.)
PETER
Thank you, Francis. And here’s to thee. (Drinks.)
MARTIN
I shall be fuddled anon.
DANIEL
And drunkenness I hold to be a very despicable vice.
ALL
O! a shocking vice. (They drink round.)
PETER
In as much as it taketh away the understanding.
DANIEL
And makes the eyes red.
PETER
And the tongue to stammer.
DANIEL
And to blab out secrets.
(During this conversation they continue drinking.)
PETER
Some men do not know an enemy from a friend when they are drunk.
DANIEL
Certainly sobriety is the health of the soul.
MARTIN
Now I know I am going to be drunk.
DANIEL
How can’st tell, dry-bones?
MARTIN
Because I begin to be melancholy. That’s always a sign.
FRANCIS
Take care of Martin, he’ll topple off his seat else.
(Martin drops asleep.)
PETER Times are greatly altered, since young master took upon himself the government of this household.
ALL
Greatly altered.
FRANCIS I think every thing be altered for the better since His Majesty’s blessed restoration.
PETER In Sir Walter’s days there was no encouragement given to good house-keeping.
ALL
None.
DANIEL
For instance, no possibility of getting drunk before two in the afternoon.
PETER
Every man his allowance of ale at breakfast — his quart!
ALL
A quart!! (in derision.)
DANIEL
Nothing left to our own sweet discretions.
PETER Whereby it may appear, we were treated more like beasts than what we were — discreet and reasonable serving-men.
ALL
Like beasts.
MARTIN (Opening his eyes.) Like beasts.
DANIEL
To sleep, wag-tail!
FRANCIS I marvel all this while where the old gentleman has found means to secrete himself. It seems no man has heard of him since the day of the King’s return. Can any tell why our young master, being favoured by the court, should not have interest to procure his father’s pardon?
DANIEL Marry, I think ’tis the obstinacy of the old Knight, that will not be beholden to the court for his safety.
MARTIN
Now that is wilful.
FRANCIS
But can any tell me the place of his concealment?
PETER
That cannot I; but I have my conjectures.
DANIEL
Two hundred pounds, as I hear, to the man that shall apprehend him.
FRANCIS
Well, I have my suspicions.
PETER
And so have I.
MARTIN
And I can keep a secret.
FRANCIS (To Peter.) Warwickshire you mean. (Aside.)
PETER
Perhaps not.
FRANCIS
Nearer perhaps.
PETER
I say nothing.
DANIEL
I hope there is none in this company would be mean enough to betray him.
ALL
O Lord, surely not. (They drink to Sir Walter’s safety.)
FRANCIS I have often wondered how our master came to be excepted by name in the late Act of Oblivion.
DANIEL
Shall I tell the reason?
ALL
Aye, do.
DANIEL
’Tis thought he is no great friend to the present happy establishment.
ALL
O! monstrous!
PETER Fellow servants, a thought strikes me. — Do we, or do we not, come under the penalties of the treason-act, by reason of our being privy to this man’s concealment.
ALL
Truly a sad consideration.
To them enters Sandford suddenly.
SANDFORD
You well-fed and unprofitable grooms,
Maintained for state, not use;
You lazy feasters at another’s cost,
That eat like maggots into an estate,
And do as little work,
Being indeed but foul excrescences,
And no just parts in a well-order’d family;
You base and rascal imitators,
Who act up to the height your master’s vices,
But cannot read his virtues in your bond:
Which of you, as I enter’d, spake of betraying?
Was it you, or you, or, thin-face, was it you?
MARTIN
Whom does he call thin-face?
SANDFORD
No prating, loon, but tell me who he was,
That I may brain the villain with my staff,
That seeks Sir Walter’s life?
You miserable men,
With minds more slavish than your slave’s estate,
Have you that noble bounty so forgot,
Which took you from the looms, and from the ploughs,
Which better had ye follow’d, fed ye, cloth’d ye,
And entertain’d ye in a worthy service,
Where your best wages was the world’s repute,
That thus ye seek his life, by whom ye live?
Have you forgot too,
How often in old times
Your drunken mirths have stunn’d day’s sober ears,
Carousing full cups to Sir Walter’s health? —
Whom now ye would betray, but that he lies
Out of the reach of your poor treacheries.
This learn from me,
Our master’s secret sleeps with trustier tongues,
Than will unlock themselves to carls like you.
Go, get you gone, you knaves. Who stirs? this staff
Shall teach you better manners else.
ALL
Well, we are going.
SANDFORD
And quickly too, ye had better, for I see
Young mistress Margaret coming this way.
(Exeunt all but Sandford.)
Enter Margaret, as in a fright, pursued by a Gentleman,
who, seeing Sandford, retires muttering a curse.
Sandford, Margaret.
SANDFORD
Good-morrow to my fair mistress. ’Twas a chance
I saw you, lady, so intent was I
On chiding hence these graceless serving-men,
Who cannot break their fast at morning meals
Without debauch and mis-timed riotings.
This house hath been a scene of nothing else
But atheist riot and profane excess,
Since my old master quitted all his rights here.
MARGARET
Each day I endure fresh insult from the scorn
Of Woodvil’s friends, the uncivil jests,
And free discourses, of the dissolute men,
That haunt this mansion, making me their mirth.
SANDFORD
Does my young master know of these affronts?
MARGARET
I cannot tell. Perhaps he has not been told.
Perhaps he might have seen them if he would.
I have known him more quick-sighted. Let that pass.
All things seem chang’d, I think. I had a friend,
(I can’t but weep to think him alter’d too,)
These things are best forgotten; but I knew
A man, a young man, young, and full of honor,
That would have pick’d a quarrel for a straw,
And fought it out to the extremity,
E’en with the dearest friend he had alive,
On but a bare surmise, a possibility,
That Margaret had suffer’d an affront.
Some are too tame, that were too splenetic once.
SANDFORD
‘Twere best he should be told of these affronts.
MARGARET
I am the daughter of his father’s friend,
Sir Walter’s orphan-ward.
I am not his servant maid, that I should wait
The opportunity of a gracious hearing,
Enquire the times and seasons when to put
My peevish prayer up at young Woodvil’s feet,
And sue to him for slow redress, who was
Himself a suitor late to Margaret.
I am somewhat proud: and Woodvil taught me pride.
I was his favourite once, his playfellow in infancy,
And joyful mistress of his youth.
None once so pleasant in his eyes as Margaret.
His conscience, his religion, Margaret was,
His dear heart’s confessor, a heart within that heart,
And all dear things summ’d up in her alone.
As Margaret smil’d or frown’d John liv’d or died:
His dress, speech, gesture, studies, friendships, all
Being fashion’d to her liking.
His flatteries taught me first this self-esteem,
His flatteries and caresses, while he loved.
