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Henry  Fieldings 

Don  Quixote  in  England 


INAUGURAL-DISSERTATION 

ZUR 

ERLANGUNG  DER  DOKTORWaRDE 

DER 

HOHEN  PHTLOSOPHISCHEN  FAKULTAT 

DER 

UNIVER81TAT/BERN 


VORGELEGT 

VON 

Ernst  Dolder 

von   Flawyl  (St.  Qallen). 


V 


ZURICH 

Buchdruckerei  Qebr.  Leemann  &  Co. 

Verlag  der  „Bcademia". 

1907. 


B  2  603118 


\^f"%^W 


Henry  Fielding's 


Don  Quixote  in  England 


■31  ■■  g> 


INAUGURAL-DISSERTATION 

ZUR 

ERLAKGUNG  DER  DOKTORW0RDE 

DER 

HOHEN  PHILOSOPHISCHEN  FAKULTAT 

DER 

UNIYERSITAT  BERN 

VORGELEGT 
VON 

Ernst  Dolder 

von  Flawyl  (St.  Qallen). 


ZURICH 

Buchdmckerei  Qebr.  Leemann  &  Co. 

Verlag  der  „Rcademia". 

1907. 


Von  der  philosophischen  Fakultit  auf  Antrag  des  Herm  Prof.  Dr. 
MULLEB-HESS  angeaommen. 

Bern,  den  28.  Juni  1906.  Der  Dekan : 

Prof.  Dr.  G.  Huber. 


..^Xfe^ 


Meinen  lieben  Eltern 


'vt^ 


Contents, 


I.   Bibliographical  Index. 

II.   Don  Quixote  in  universal  literature. 
III.    Chronology  of   English   translations  and  imitations  of 

Cervantes'  Don  Quixote. 
rV.   Fielding's  admiration   for  Cervantes. 

V.   Fielding's  "Don    Quixote    in    England": 

a)  Dedication,  preface  and  introduction, 

b)  Summary  of  the  play, 

c)  Characters    and    sources. 
VI.   Fielding  and   Walpole. 

VII.    Fielding's  attempt  as  a  dramatical  writer. 


I.  Bibliographical  Index. 


Adams,  A  dictionary  of  the  drama,  London  1904. 

Addison,  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  (from  "The  Spectator**),  Lon- 
don   1711—12. 

Baker,  Biographia  dramatica,  London  1812. 

Becker,  Die  Aufnahme  des  Don  Quixote  in  die  englische  Lite- 
ratur,   Palaestra  XIII,   Berlin  1906. 

B  e  1  j  a  m  e ,  Le  public  et  les  hommes  de  lettres  en  Angleterre 
au  18e  siecle,   Paris  1897. 

Cervantes,  El  ingenioso  hidalgo  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha, 
Madrid    1605. 

Cervantes,  Segunda  parte  del  ingenioso  cavallero  Don  Quijote 
de  la  Mancha,   Madrid  1615. 

Chalmers,   Bibliographical  Dictionary,   London  1812. 

Chesterfield,  Characters  of  eminent  personages  of  his  own 
time,  London  1777. 

Coleridge,    Literary   Remains,    London   1836. 

Coxe,  Memoirs  of  the  life  and  administration  of  Sir  Robert 
Walpole,    London    1798. 

Dibdin,  A  complete  history  of  the  English  stage,  London  1800. 

D  0  b  s  0  n ,  Henry  Fielding,  New  -  York  1900. 

D  0  r  e  r ,  Cervantes  und  seine  Werke  in  Deutschland,  Leipzig  1881. 

Ewald,   Sir  Robert   Walpole,   London  1878. 

G  e  n  e  s  t ,  Some  account  of  the  English  stage,  Bath  1832. 

Gosse,  The  works  of  Henry  Fielding,  Westminster  1898. 

H  a  y  w  a  r  d ,   Lord  Chesterfield,   London  1854. 

H  a  z  1  i  1 1 ,  A  manual  for  the  collector  and  amateur  of  old 
English   plays,  London   1892. 

Hazlitt,  Lectures  on  the  English  comic  writers,  London  1819. 

H  e  r  v  e  y ,   Memoirs   of   the   reign  of   George   II,   London   1848. 

H  e  1 1  n  e  r ,  Literaturgeschichte  des  18.  Jahrhunderts,  Braun- 
schweig  1894. 

Juleville,  Petit  de,  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  litt^rature 
fran§aise,   Paris   1896. 

K  e  i  g  h  1 1  e  y ,  On  the  life  and  writings  of  Henry  Fielding  (in 
Eraser's   Magazine),   London   1858. 


K  o  1  b  i  n  g  ,    Englische   Studien,    Heilbronn   1877. 

Lawrence,  The  life  of  Henry  Fielding,  London  1855. 

Lindner,  Henry  Fielding's  dramatische  Werke,  Leipzig  und 
Dresden    1895. 

Macau  lay,  Comic  dramatists  of  the  Restoration,  New-  York 
1861. 

M  a  c  k  1  i  n ,    Memoirs,   London    1804. 

Mahon,  The  letters  of  P.  D.  Stanhope,  Earl  of  Chesterfield, 
London    1845—53. 

Maynadier,  The  works  of  Henry  Fielding,  Cambridge  U.  S. 
1905. 

Moliere,    L'Avare,    Paris    1669. 

Moliere,  (Euvres,  Paris   1682. 

Montagu,  Letters  of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  London 
1861. 

Murphy,    The   works   of   Henry   Fielding,   London    1762. 

P  6  r  0  n  n  e  ,  Ueber  englische  Zustande  im  18.  Jahrhundert  nach 
den  Romanen  von  Fielding  und  Smollett,   Leipzig  1890. 

R  o  s  c  0  e ,   The  works   of  Henry  Fielding,   London   1840. 

Saintsbury,  The  works  of  Henry  Fielding,  London  1893. 

Sharp,   Dictionary  of  English  authors,  London  1904. 

Scott,    Biographical  memoirs,    Edinburgh   1841. 

Stephen,   Dictionary  of  national  biography,   London  1889. 

Stephen,    The   works   of   Henry  Fielding,   London   1882. 

Thackeray,  The  English  humorists  of  the  18th  century,  Lon- 
don  1853. 

T  i  c  k  n  0  r ,   History  of   the  Spanish  literature,   Boston   1888. 

V  i  a  r  d  0 1 ,  Notice  sur  la  vie  et  les  ouvrages  de  Cervantes, 
Paris  1837. 

Waller,  The  imperial  dictionary  of  universal  biography,  Lon- 
don   1857—63. 

Walpole,    The   letters   of   Horace   Walpole,    London    1857. 

W  a  1  p  0  1  e  ,  Memoirs  of  the  reign  of  George  II,  London  1848 — 51. 

Watson,   Life   of   Henry  Fielding,   London   1807. 

Wiese  e  P^rcopo,  Storia  della  letteratura  italiana,  Torino 
1900. 


n. 
Don  Quixote  in  Universal  Literature. 


A.  W.  Schlegel,  the  famous  Shakespeare-trans- 
lator, says  in  one  of  his  writings :  "Don  Quixote**  is 
the  perfect  masterpiece  of  higher  romantic  art".  Indeed, 
there  are  few  works  in  universal  literature  more 
worthy  of  their  fame  than  the  great  novel  of  Cer- 
vantes. All  over  the  world  we  find  translations  and 
imitations  of  "Don  Quixote%  testifying  of  the  high 
popularity  he  enjoys  with  all  peoples  and  nations.  To 
grve  an  idea  of  its  growing  fame,  I  should  like  to 
pass  in  review  the  most  important  editions,  translations 
and  imitations  of  the  book. 

The  first  edition  of  the  First  Part  of  "Don 
Quixote"  was  printed  with  this  title :  „E1  Ingenioso 
Hidalgo  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha,  compuesto  por 
Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedra,  dirigido  al  Duque  de 
Bejar,  Marques  de  Gibraleon  etc.  Ano  1605.  Con 
Privilegio,  etc.  En  Madrid,  por  Juan  de  la  Cuesta*, 
4°  in  one  volume. 

Three  editions  more  appeared  in  the  same  year, 
namely  one  at  Madrid,  one  at  Lisbon,  and  the  other 
at  Valencia.  These  with  another  at  Brussels,  in  1607 
—  five  in  all  ~  are  the  only  editions  that  appeared 


—     10     — 

till  he  took  it  in  hand  to  correct  some  of  its  errors. 
Such  corrections  appeared  in  the  Madrid  edition  of 
1608,  4<^.  This  edition,  as  the  only  one  containing 
Cervantes'  amendments  of  the  text,  is  more  valued 
and  sought  after  than  any  other,  and  is  the  basis  on 
which  all  the  good  impressions  since  have  been  founded. 
After  this  an  edition  at  Milan,  1610,  and  one  at  Brussels, 
1611,  are  known  to  have  been  printed  before  the 
appearance  of  the  second  part  in  1615.  So  that  in 
nine  or  ten  years  there  were  eight  editions  of  the  First 
Part  of  Don  Quixote,  implying  a  circulation  greater 
than  that  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare  or  Milton, 
Racine  or  Moli^re,  who,  as  of  the  same  century,  may 
be  fitly  compared  with  Cervantes. 

The  first  edition  of  the  Second  Part  of  Don 
Quixote  is  entitled:  „Segunda  Parte  del  Ingenioso 
Hidalgo  Don  Quijote  de  la  Mancha,  por  Miguel  de 
Cervantes  Saavedra,  autor  de  su  primera  parte,  diri- 
gida  a  Don  Pedro  Fernandez  de  Castro,  Conde  de 
Lemos,  etc.  Ano  1615.  Con  Privilegio,  en  Madrid, 
por  Juan  de  la  Cuesta",  4*.  It  was  printed  separately, 
Valencia  1616,  Brussels  1616,  Barcelona  1617  and 
Lisbon  1617,  after  which  no  separate  edition  is  known 
to  have  appeared. 

Thus  eight  editions  of  the  First  Part  were  prin- 
ted in  ten  years  and  five  of  the  Second  Part  in  two 
years.  Both  parts  appeared  together  at  Barcelona  in 
1617  in  two  volumes  12^  and  from  this  period  the 
number  of  editions  has  been  very  great,  both  in  Spain 
and  in  foreign  countries,  nearly  fifty  of  them  being 
of  some  consequence. 

Of  all  these  the  5  following  editions  may  be 
considered  the  best: 


—   11   — 

1.  Tonson's  edition,  London  1738 

2.  The  edition  of  the  Spanish  Academy,  Madrid  1780 

3.  Bowie's  edition,  Salisbury  1781 

4.  Pellicer's  edition,  Madrid  1797—98 

5.  Clemencin's  edition,  Madrid  1833—39. 

In  other  countries  the  Don  Quixote  is  hardly  less 
known  than  it  is  in  Spain.  Down  to  the  year  1700, 
it  is  curious  to  observe,  that  as  many  editions  of  the 
entire  work  were  printed  abroad  as  at  home,  and  the 
succession  of  translations  from  the  first  has  been 
uninterrupted. 

The  first  French  translation  of  the  First  Part  of 
Don  Quixote  was  made  by  Cesar  Oudin  and  was 
published  at  Paris  in  1620.  The  Second  Part  was 
translated  by  F.  Rosset  and  was  printed  in  1633.  In 
1677  there  appeared  another  translation  by  Filleau  de 
St.  Martin  (here  the  story  is  materially  altered,  so  as 
to  permit  Don  Quixote  to  survive  for  other  adventures). 
His  work,  left  unfinished,  was  taken  up  by  Robert 
Challes.  The  most  read  of  the  numerous  French  trans- 
lations has  been  that  of  Florian  (1799),  though  Louis 
Viardot's  (Paris  1836—38)  is  a  much  better  one. 

Don  Quixote  has  been  a  great  favourite  with 
German  writers,  both  in  the  17^**  and  in  the  18***  cen- 
tury. Of  German  translations  I  note : 

Pahsch  Basteln  von  der  Sohle,  C5then  1621 

Johann  Ludvdg  du  Four  (Verleger),   Genf  1682. 

Fritsch  (Verleger),  Leipzig  1734 

Frankfurter  und  Leipziger  tJbersetzung  1734 — 36 

F.  J.  Bertuch,  Weimar  1775 

Ludwig  Tieck,  Berlin  1799—1801 

D.  W,  Soltan,  K5nigsberg  1800 

Quedlinburger  und  Leipziger  Ubersetzung  1825 


—     12     — 

H.  Mtiller,  Zwickau  1825 

Heinrich  Heine,  Stuttgart  1837     38 

A.  Keller  und  F.  Notter,  1839 

Edmund  ZoUer,  Hildburghausen  1867—68. 

All  countries  have  sought  the  means  of  enjoying 
the  Don  Quixote,  for  there  are  translations  in  Latin, 
Italian,  Dutch,  Danish,  Russian,  Polish  and  Portuguese. 
But  better  than  any  of  these  foreign  translations 
is  the  admirable  one  made  into  German  by  Ludwig 
Tieck,  eight  editions  of  which  appeared  between  1799 
and  1876  and  superseded  all  the  other  German  ver- 
sions. It  ought  to  be  added  that  in  the  last  halfcen- 
tury  more  editions  of  the  original  have  appeared  in 
Germany  than  in  any  other  foreign  country. 

As  to  prose  imitations  of  Don  Quixote,  I  only 
Tvant  to  point  out  the  most  important  of  them: 

a)  In  Spain: 

Avellaneda  ("Secundo  Tomo  dellngenioso Hidalgo 

.  .  .")  Tarragona  1614  [translated  into  French 

by  Lesage  1704  and  Germon  de  Lavigne  1853]. 

Anzarena  ("Empresas  Literarias  del  ingeniosissimo 

.  .  .«)  Sevilla  1767 
Delgado  ("Adiciones  a  Don  Quijote**)  Madrid 
Ribero  y  Larrea  ("El  Quijote   de  la  Cantabria") 

Madrid  1792 
"Historia  de  Sancho  Panza",  Madrid  1793—98 
Sifieriz  ("El  Quijote  del  siglo  XVIII),  Madrid  1836 
"Napoleon    o    el   verdadero    Don    Quijote    de   la 
Europa"),  Madrid  1813 

b)  Out  of  Spain: 

Out  of  the  great  number  of  foreign  imitations,  the 
most  valuable,  according  to  modern  critics,  are: 


-     13     — 

Ward,  "Life  of  Don  Quixote,  merrily  translated 
into  Hudibrastic  Verse,  London  1711 

Wieland,    "Don  Sylvio  von  Rosalva",    Ulm  1764 

Meli,  "Don  Chisciotte",  3^  and  4*^  volume  of 
"Poesie  Siciliane",  Palermo  1787 

Smollett,  "Sir  Launcelot  Greaves",    London  1762 

Don  Quixote  has  often  been  produced  on  the  stage. 
There  are  Spanish  plays  on  Don  Quixote  by  different 
authors:  Francisco  de  Avila,  Guillen  de  Castro,  Cal- 
deron  (lost),  Gomez  Labrador,  Francisco  Marti,  Val- 
ladares,  Melendez  Valdes,  Ventura  de  la  Vega. 

There  are  several  old  French  plays  on  Don  Quixote, 
long  since  forgotten : 

"Les  Folies  de  Cardenio"  by  Pichot  1623 

"Don  Quichotte  de  la  Manche"  by  Guerin  de 
Boucal  1640 

•Le  Gouvernement  de  Sancho  Panza"  by  B.  1642 

"Le  Curieux  Impertinent  ou  le  Jaloux",  1645 

"Don  Quichotte  de  la  Manche",  tragicom^die  par 
C.  D.  1703. 

A  very  amusing  fact  concerning  Don  Quixote 
connected  with  the  French  stage  is,  that  in  a  play 
arranged  by  Madeleine  Bejart  and  called  "Don  Quichotte 
ou  les  Enchantements  de  Merlin"  Moliere  played  the 
part  of  Sancho  and  the  ass,  who  had  not  thoroughly 
learned  his  part,  came  on  the  stage  too  soon  in  spite 
of  his  poetical  rider  and  created  a  great  uproar  of 
merriment  (Guimarest,  Vie  de  Moliere). 

German  plays  and  operas  about  Don  Quixote  have 
been  written  by : 

Hinsch,  Hamburg  1690 

Mtiller,  1722 

F.  J.  H.  Soden,  Berlin  1788-91 


—     14     — 

B.  Schack,  1792 

Dittersdorf,  1796 

Heusler,  Wien  1803 

A.  Bode,  Leipzig  1804 

Paul  Taglioni,  Berlin 

A.  Rubinstein,  Leipzig. 

All  these  different  editions,  translations  and  imi- 
•tations,  which  for  above  two  centuries  have  been 
poured  out  upon  the  different  countries  of  Europe, 
give  still  but  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  kind  and 
degree  of  success  which  the  extraordinary  work  has 
enjoyed,  for  there  are  thousands  and  thousands  who 
never  have  read  it  and  who  never  heard  of  Cervantes, 
to  whom  nevertheless  the  names  of  Don  Quixote  and 
vof  Sancho  are  as  familiar  as  household  works. 


III. 

Chronology  of 

English  translations  and  imitations 

OF  Cervantes^  Don  Quixote. 


No  foreign  country  has  done  so  much  for  Cer- 
vantes and  Don  Quixote  as  England,  both  by  original 
editions  published  there  and  by  translations. 

As  to  English  translations,  the  first   was  written 
by  Shelton,   1612—20,   which  was  followed   by 
John  Philips'  in  1687 
Motteux's  ,    1700 

Ward's  .    1711—12 

Jarvis'  „    1742 

Smollett's  „    1755 

Wilmot's  „     1774 

and  the  anonymous  one  of  1818,  which   has   adopted 
parts  of  all  its  predecessors. 

The  English  imitations  of  *'Don  Quixote"  are  very 
numerous,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following  chrono- 
logical table: 

1611  Beaumont    and  Fletcher's    "Knight    of    the 
Burning  Pestle" 


—     16     — 

1654  Edmund  Gay  ton's  "Pleasant  Notes  upon  Don 

Quixote" 
1656  Holland's  "Don  Zara  del  Fogo" 
1663-78  Butler's  "Hudibras" 
1694-96  D'Urfey's    "Comical  History  of  D.  Q." 
1711  Edward  Ward's  "Life  of  D.  Q." 
1734  Fielding's  '^D.  Q.  in  England" 
1741    Pope's,    Swift's    &    Arbuthnot's    "Martinus 

Scriblerus" 
1752  Mrs.  Lennox's  "Female  Quixote* 
1762  Smollett's  "Sir  Launcelot  Greaves" 

1773  Graves'  "Spiritual  Quixote" 

1774  Piguenit's  "D.  Q." 

1797  Cross's  "Harlequin  and  Quixote" 

1808  Moser's  "D.  Q.  in  Barcelona^' 

1833  Almar's  "D.  Q." 

1846  Macfarren's  "D.  Q." 

1867  Hazlewood's  "D.  Q." 

1869  Killick's  "D.  Q." 

1876  Paulton  &  Maltby's  "D.  Q." 

1895  Wills'   "D.  Q." 

1899  Percy  Milton's  "D.  Q." 

C.  W.  Hazlitt  in  his  "Manual  for  the  collector 
and  amateur  of  old  English  plays"  (London  1892) 
speaks  of  a  comedy  "The  history  of  D.  Q.  or  the 
Knight  of  the  ill-favoured  face  advertised  at  the  end 
of  the  New  World  of  English  Words  1658  and  of 
Wit  and  Drollery  1661  as  in  the  press,  not  at  present 
known."  On  making  inquiries,  M""  Hazlitt  writes  me 
that  up  to  the  present  day  no  further  information 
about  this  play  has  come  to  his  knowledge. 

There  are  some  anonymous  imitations  of  *Don 
Quixote"  to  be  mentioned,  viz.: 


17 


1673   "Don  Quixote  Eedivivus" 

1678  "The  Mock  Clelia  or  Madam  Quixote" 

1761   "Tarrataria  or  Don  Quixote  the  second". 

1763  "Fizgigg  or  the  Modern  Quixote" 

1785  "The  Country  Quixote" 

1789  "The  Amicable  Quixote" 

Of  all  these  works  Butler's  ''Hudibras"'  was  for 
a  long  time  considered  the  best  imitation  of  Cer- 
vantes' hero.  However  it  would  be  going  too  far 
calling  it  "The  English  Copy  of  Don  Quixote",  as 
Joseph  Warton  has  done  in  N°  133  of  the  "Adven- 
turer". Though  its  plan  is  entirely  original,  the  lea- 
ding idea  may  in  some  measure  be  referred  to  Cer- 
vantes "Don  Quixote"  ;  but  as  the  object  of  Butler  was 
totally  different  from  that  of  the  immortal  Spanish 
humorist,  so  the  execution  is  so  modified  as  to  leave 
the  English  work  all  the  glory    of  complete  novelty. 

The  earliest  of  these  imitations  was  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher's  comedy  "The  Knight  of  the  burning 
pestle"  (1611).  Intended  as  a  parody  on  Thomas  Hey- 
wood's  ''The  four  prentices  of  London"  (1601),  its 
principal  hero,  Ralph,  is  a  second  Don  Quixote  whose 
victorious  struggle  against  the  giant  Barbarossa  and 
the  liberation  of  his  prisoners  are  a  combination  of 
similar  adventures  in  Cervantes  (Chapter  XXI  and 
XXII).  Sancho  Panza  is  happily  imitated  in  Tim, 
apprentice,  and  even  Susan,  the  cobbler's  maid  in 
Milk-street,  bears  a  certain  resemblance  to  fair  Dul- 
cinea  del  Toboso. 


IV. 
FIELDING'S   ADMIRATION  FOR  CERVANTES. 


There  can  scarcely  be  mentioned  a  writer  ot 
ancient  or  modern  times  who  at  all  approaches  Cer- 
vantes in  the  wide  extent  of  his  popularity  and  the 
universal  reception  which  his  great  work  has  had  in 
every  portion  of  the  civilized  world. 

Though  Shakespeare's  name  is  now  probably  a 
familiar  one  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe  and  his 
works  are  as  widely  diffused  as  his  race,  still,  at 
present  no  one  would  venture  to  assert  that  any  charac- 
ters of  his  are  pictured  to  the  eye  with  the  same 
clearness  as  those  immortal  photographs  of  Cervantes' 
pen  which  in  course  of  time  have  been  transferred  to 
almost  every  European  literature. 

Of  all  English  poets  none  certainly  professed  a 
more  sincere  admiration  for  Cervantes  than  Fielding. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  long  before  publishing  his 
•* Joseph  Andrews"  he  admired  in  Cervantes  the  master 
of  comic  novel  writing.  From  his  boyhood  he  had 
fastened  with  eager  delight  on  the  immortal  creations 
of  Cervantes.  They  were  the  loadstars  of  his  fancy, 
the  fairy  forms  which  had   led   captive  his  youthful 


—     19     — 

imagination.  It  is  therefore  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
the  rude  comedy  "Don  Quixote  in  England",  written 
at  Leyden  in  the  first  transports  of  youthful  ardour, 
was  a  favourite  with  its  author,  for  the  idea  had 
taken  deep  root  in  his  mind.  Though  Fielding's  prin- 
cipal object  in  the  composition  of  "Joseph  Andrews" 
was  to  caricature  "Pamela"  by  presenting  a  picture 
of  male  virtue  in  humble  life,  as  a  ludicrous  counter- 
part of  Richardson's  sketch,  another  and  much  higher 
design  was  included  in  his  plan.  He  endeavoured  to 
imitate  the  manner  and  catch  a  portion  of  the  spirit 
of  his  master.  To  present  an  English  parallel  to  the 
adventures  of  the  chivalrous  Don  suggested  itself  to 
his  mind  and  he  created  a  hero  calculated  to  afford 
amusement  to  his  readers,  without  ever  forfeiting  their 
esteem.  Upon  its  title-page  "Joseph  Andrews"  is 
declared  to  be  "written  in  imitation  of  the  manner  of 
Cervantes".  There  is  no  doubt  that,  in  addition  to 
being  subjected  to  an  unreasonable  amount  of  ill-usage, 
Parson  Adams  has  manifest  affinities  with  Don  Quixote. 

Taking  Fielding's  ideas  about  the  ridiculous  into 
careful  consideration,  it  will  be  easy  to  find  out  the 
affinities  existing  between  these  ideas  and  his  study 
of  Cervantes.  He  calls  affectation  the  only  source  of 
the  ridiculous ;  affectation  again  has  its  origin  in 
vanity  or  hypocrisy.  Fielding  now  goes  on  to  say 
that  it  is  just  the  contrast  between  the  pretention  of 
vain  or  hypocritical  people  and  the  sound  reality  that 
makes  these  people  ridiculous.  Fielding  considered 
the  "affecting  false  characters  in  order  to  purchase 
applause"  as  the  main  comic  idea  in  Cervantes'  "Don 
Quixote"  and  so  he  made  the  true  copy  of  those 
human  errors  the  object  of  his  novel- writing.  It  is  for 


—     20     — 

this  reason  that  Fielding  always  looked  at  his  novels 
as  imitations  of  Cervantes,  to  whom  he  owes  much 
in  this  regard. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  literary  critics 
thought  Fielding  a  worthy  imitator  of  the  great 
Spanish  poet.  Throughout  Europe  the  fame  of  Fiel- 
ding as  a  novel-writer  is  such  as  to  allow  him  to  be 
placed  beside  his  great  ideal  Cervantes.  Of  all  the 
numerous  imitators  and  followers  of  Cervantes  Fiel- 
ding is  by  far  the  worthiest  as  the  most  original  and 
most  independent  of  them.  The  imaginative  faculties 
as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  men  and  matters  are 
quite  his  own ;  all,  that  belongs  to  the  creating  artist, 
is  his  own  property.  It  is  only  in  the  art  of  com- 
posing he  looks  to  Cervantes  as  his  master  and  ideal. 
With  regard  to  the  leading  idea  he  goes  even  farther 
than  his  model:  Fielding  regards  the  affectation  based 
on  hypocrisy  as  the  worthiest  subject  to  treat  with. 
Cervantes*  comic  consists  in  putting  forward  human 
vanity,  Fielding  adds  the  study  of  human  wretched- 
ness with   a  view   to  the  ethical  side   of  the  matter. 

It  would  be  an  injustice  to  call  Cervantes  a  spe- 
cific Catholic  and  Fielding  a  specific  Protestant  poet. 
This  to  say  would  be  to  misunderstand  the  cause  of 
the  immortality  of  their  work,  which  lies  in  the  fact 
that  both  Cervantes  and  Fielding  stood  high  above 
their  generation.  Both  were  national  poets  in  the  best 
sense  of  the  word,  but  their  highest  aim  was  to  re- 
present mankind  in  general.  Cervantes  owes  the  depth 
and  originality  of  his  work  to  his  own  genius  whereas 
Fielding  is  indebted  for  the  broad-mindedness  and 
freedom  of  his  ideas  to  the  uprising  of  civilisation 
and  the  liberal  tendencies  of  his  century. 


—     21     — 

However,  if  any  novelist  of  the  world  deserves 
to  stand  besides  Cervantes,  it  is  certainly  Fielding  who 
in  his  comic  novels  reaches  the  same  classical  height 
of  perfection  as  his  master  Cervantes. 


V. 
FIELDING'S    **DON  QUIXOTE   IN    ENGLAND". 


a)  Dedication,  PrefcLce  and  Introduction. 

In  April  1734  a  comedy  called  "Don  Quixote  in 
England"  and  written  by  Henry  Fielding  was  acted 
at  the  New  Theatre  in  the  Hay-Market. 

This  comedy  was  begun  at  Leyden  in  the  year 
1728  and  after  it  had  been  sketched  ont  into  a  few 
loose  scenes  was  thrown  by  and  for  a  long  while  no 
more  thought  of.  "It  was",  says  Fielding  in  his  pre- 
face, originally  written  for  my  private  amusement, 
as  it  would  indeed  have  been  little  less  than 
Quixotism  itself  to  hope  any  other  fruits  from  attemp- 
ting characters  wherein  the  inimitable  Cervantes  so 
far  excelled.  The  impossibility  of  going  beyond  and 
the  extreme  difficulty  of  keeping  pace  with  him,  were 
sufficient  to  infuse  despair  into  a  very  adventurous 
author".  He  soon  discovered  that  his  small  experience 
and  little  knowledge  of  the  world  had  led  him  into 
an  error.  He  found  it  very  difficult  to  vary  tho  scene 
and  give  his  knight  an  opportunity  of  displaying  him- 
self in  a  different  manner  from  that  wherein  he  ap- 
pears in  the  romance.  "Human  nature",  says  Fielding, 
•*i8  everywhere  the  same   and  the  modes   and  habits 


—     23     — 

of  particular  nations  do  not  change  it  enough,  suffi- 
ciently to  distinguish  a  Quixote  in  England  from  a 
Quixote  in  Spain". 

Booth  and  Gibber,  then  managers  of  Drury  Lane, 
on  examining  the  play  of  Fielding  advised  him  not 
to  produce  it  on  the  stage.  However,  on  the  soli- 
citations of  the  "distressed  actors  at  Drury  Lane",  he 
tried  to  improve  it  by  adding  some  scenes  in  which 
Don  Quixote  is  introduced  to  the  remarkable  humours 
of  an  English  election.  The  piece  was  rehearsed,  but 
it  was  delayed  by  various  accidents  until  no  longer 
needed  at  Drury  Lane.  Fielding's  services  as  an  author 
were  no  longer  required,  whilst  Macklin's,  his  friend's 
engagement  came  to  an  end.  Fortunately,  the  two 
friends  managed  to  engage  a  small  company,  where- 
upon Fielding's  "Don  Quixote  in  England"  was  brought 
out  at  the  New  Theatre  in  the  Hay-Market. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  mention  that  an  enig- 
matic phrase  in  Fielding's  preface  about  the  "Griant 
Cajanus"  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  "Mynheer  Ca- 
janus"  seems  to  have  been  a  Dutch  actor  or  harlequin, 
who  appeared  as  Gargantua  in  a  piece  called  "Cupid 
and  Psyche",  the  performance  of  which  was  one  of 
the  obstacles  to  the  representation  of  "Don  Quixote". 

Fielding's  play  was  dedicated  to  the  "Right 
Honourable  Philip  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  Knight  of  the 
most  noble  Order  of  the  Garter"  and  author  of  the 
famous  letters. 

In  his  dedication.  Fielding  dwells  with  much  com- 
placency on  the  wholesome  tendency  of  the  "election 
scenes",  which  he  had  engrafted  upon  it.  "The  most 
ridiculous  exhibitions  of  luxury  or  avarice*^,  he  writes, 
"may  have  little  effect  on  the  sensualist  or  the  miser, 


—     24     — 

but  I  fancy  a  lively  representation  of  the  calamities 
brought  on  a  country  by  general  corruption  might 
have  a  very  sensible  and  useful  effect  on  the  specta- 
tors". Fielding's  object  was  laudable  enough  and  his 
exposure  of  electoral  corruption  is  characterized  by 
wit  and  vigour;  but  he  must  have  been  a  Quixote 
indeed  who  could  have  conceived  it  possible  that  any 
amount  of  satire  and  sarcasm  would  have  induced 
Sir  Robert  Walpole  to  have  abandoned  the  system  of 
wide-spread  corruption  by  which  he  carried  on  the 
government  of  England  at  this  period. 

The  Introduction  to  "Don  Quixote  in  England" 
begins  with  a  dialogue  between  manager  and  author. 
The  former  complains  of  there  being  no  prologue  to 
the  play,  whilst  the  audience  would  never  do  without 
it.  That  affords  a  good  opportunity  to  Fielding  to 
attack  the  bad  use  of  prologues  and  epilogues  with 
a  certain  class  of  play-writers.  One  of  them  begins 
with  abusing  the  writing  of  all  his  contemporaries, 
lamenting  the  corrupt  state  of  the  stage  and  assuring 
the  audience  that  this  play  wasw  ritten  with  a  design 
to  restore  true  taste.  The  second  is  in  a  different  cast : 
The  first  twelve  lines  inveigh  against  all  indecency 
on  the  stage  and  the  last  twenty  show  you  what  it 
is.  A  third  class  of  authors  is  so  sensible  of  the  de- 
merits of  their  plays  that  they  desire  to  set  the  au- 
dience asleep  before  they  begin. 

This  interesting  dialogue  is  interrupted  by  a  player 
who  entreats  the  manager  to  begin  at  once  with  the 
performance  of  the  play,  the  audience  making  such 
a  noise  with  their  canes  that  if  the  actors  did  not 
begin  immediately  the  public  would  surely  beat  down 
the  house  before  the  play  begins.   The  manager  then 


—     25     — 

orders  to  play  away  the  overture  immediately  and 
takes  leave  of  the  author  who  retires  to  some  part  of 
the  house  to  have  a  look  at  the  performance. 

h)  Summary  of  the  play. 

Act  I.  Scene  I. 
Scene:  An  Inn 
Guzzle,  innkeeper,  speeks  to  Sancho,  squire  of 
Don  Quixote,  complaining  of  his  staying  at  his  house 
without  paying  any  retribution.  He  threatens  to  get 
a  warrant  for  Don  Quixote,  if  he  did  not  pay  at  once 
his  bill.  Sancho  replies  that  knights-errant  like  his 
master  are  above  the  law  and  freed  from  paying  any- 
thing. Guzzle  assures  Sancho  that  his  ass  as  well  as 
his  master's  beast  shall  have  no  more  oats  at  his  ex- 
pense; never,  he  says,  were  masters  and  their  beasts 
so  like  another.  The  scene  closes  with  an  air  sung 
by  Sancho: 

"Rogues  there  are  of  each  nation 

Except  among  the  divines 

And  vinegar  since  the  creation 

Has  still  been  made  of  all  wines". 

Scene  II. 
Don  Quixote  calls  Sancho.  He  tells  him  that 
there  has  arrived  at  the  castle  (i.  e.  the  inn)  one  of 
the  most  accursed  giants  marching  at  the  head  of  his 
army.  Sancho,  astonished,  says  that  it  were  but  a 
country  gentleman  going  a- courting  and  having  with 
him  a  pack  of  dogs.  Don  Quixote  furiously  rejoins 
that  he  knows  nothing  about  that  and  says  that  this 
must  be  the  enchanter  Merlin  whom  he  knows  very 
well  by  his  dogs.  —  A  sweet  love-song  is  heard 
behind  the  doors. 


26 


Scene  IIL 

The  innkeeper  comes  in  and  tells  Don  Quixote 
that  horse  and  ass  are  saddled.  The  latter  replies 
that  he  does  not  want  to  leave  him.  Guzzle  again 
asks  for  the  payment  of  the  bill,  whereupon  Don 
Quixote  orders  Sancho  to  pay  the  innkeeper  a  thou- 
sand English  guineas.  Sancho  confesses  not  to  have 
seen  any  money  for  a  fortnight.  His  master  won't 
believe  it  as  he  certainly  must  have  got  plenty  of 
money  out  of  the  spoils  of  so  many  plundered  giants. 
Quixote  commands  Sancho  to  present  himself  at  once 
at  the  court  of  Dulcinea  del  Toboso. 

Dorothea,  a  young  lady  and  guest  of  the  hostelry, 
sings  within.  Don  Quixote  addresses  her  as  the  prin- 
cess of  the  castle  whom  he  supposes  to  be  held  cap- 
tive by  a  cursed  enchanter.  He  calls  out  commanding 
the  enchanter  to  open  the  castle-gates.  As  nothing 
is  done  he  attacks  the  walls  and  breaks  the  windows. 

Scene  IV. 
Guzzle  enters  crying  out  that  they  were  beating 
down  his  house.  Quixote  steps  forward  and  requires 
him  to  deliver  at  once  the  princess  whom  he  detains 
to  rob  her  of  all  plates  and  jewels.  A  mob  is  gathering 
round  the  inn  laughing  at  the  madness  of  Don  Quixote. 

Scene  V— VH. 
Dorothea  in  her  chamber  is  seen  talking  to  Je- 
zebel, her  maid.  She  is  waiting  for  her  lover,  finding 
fault  at  his  slowness.  Sancho  enters  and  inquires  after 
the  enchanted  lady.  Dorothea  presents  herself  as  the 
princess  Indoccalambria  and  asks  to  see  his  illustrious 
master  Don  Quixote.  Sancho  entreats  her  to  prevail 
on  his  master   not  to  send  him  home  to  Spain  after 


—     27     — 

his  lady  Dulcinea,  as  he  is  very  fond  of  English 
roastbeef  and  strong  beer.  Now  follows  Sancho*s 
famous  song  of  the    "Roast  Beef  of  Old  England"  ^): 

"When  mighty  roast  beef  was  the  Englishman's  food 

In  ennobled  our  hearts  and  enriched  our  blood 

Our  soldiers  were  brave  and  our  courtiers  were  good. 

0  the  roast  beef  of  Old  England 

And  Old  England's  roast  beef! 
Then,  Britons,  from  all  nice  dainties  refrain 
Which  effeminate  Italy,  France  and  Spain 
And  mighty  roast  beef  shall  command  in  the  main. 

0  the  roast  beef  of  Old  England 

And  Old  England's  roast  beef!" 

Dorothea  hearing  that  Sancho  had  once  imposed 
a  certain  lady  for  Dulcinea  on  his  master,  will  fit 
out  Jezebel  for  this  purpose.  Sancho  says  this  would 
be  the  best  as  there  were  no  Dulcinea  to  be  found 
in  Spain  ;  he  continues  to  tell  her  that  he  would  never 
have  followed  his  master  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
sake  of  a  little  island  of  which  he  was  to  be  the 
governor.  Dorothea  charges  him  to  inform  at  once 
Don  Quixote  of  the  arrival  of  his  sweet  lady  Dulcinea 
del  Toboso. 

Scene  VIII— X.  A  Street. 
The  mayor  of  the  town  accompanied  by  his  neigh- 
bour is  seen  walking  through  the  street.  The  mayor 
suggests  that  Don  Quixote  has  come  in  town  in  view 
of  the  approaching  parliamentary  elections ;  he  is  quite 
convinced  that  he  wants  to  buy  votes  to  be  sure  of 
his    election  as   a   member  of  parliament.    He   fears 

*)  Hichard  Leveridge  took  Fielding's  first  verse,  added  others 
and  set  the  whole  to  music  (Hullah's  Song  Book  1866,  No  39). 

The  first  verse  is  also  to  be  found  in  Fielding's  "Grub-Street- 
Opera"  (Air  45),  which  appeared  in  1731. 


—     28     — 

that  the  corporation  candidate,  Sir  Thomas  Loveland, 
will  meet  with  no  opposition.  He  smells  a  plot  to 
«ell  the  whole  town  to  the  corporation;  but  rather 
than  to  suffer  this  he  would  ride  all  over  the  king- 
dom for  a  candidate.  He  thinks  of  Don  Quixote  as 
a  member  fit  for  parliament;  as  for  his  being  mad, 
it  does  not  matter.  His  neighbour  is  of  the  same 
opinion;  though  Quixote  has  brought  no  money  with 
him,  he  is  supposed  to  have  a  very  large  estate. 

Guzzle  the  innkeeper  is  coming  up  and  invites 
the  mayor  to  have  a  drink  with  him.  The  mayor  in- 
quires about  Don  Quixote  and  informs  Guzzle  of  his 
intention  to  propose  Quixote  as  member  of  parliament. 
He  thinks  it  necessary  to  get  an  opposition  candidate 
who  is  ready  to  spend  his  money  for  the  honour  of 
his  party.  He  adds  that  these  times  come  but  seldom 
and  they  ought  to  make  the  best  of  them.  Guzzle 
agrees  and  they  are  going  to  empty  a  bottle  in  honour 
of  the  coming  election. 

Act  II.    Scene  I— III. 
Scene:  A  chamber  in  the  inn. 

Sancho,  weary  of  the  dangers  of  knight-errantry, 
begs  his  master  to  make  him  a  landlord  which  seems 
to  him  a  very  thriving  trade  in  England;  anything, 
he  says,  would  be  better  than  to  be  looked  upon  as 
a  madman.  Don  Quixote  says  that  he  is  not  concerned 
at  the  evil  opinion  of  men.  "If  we  consider  who  are 
their  favourites,  we  shall  have  no  reason  to  be  so 
fond  of  their  applause.  Virtue  is  too  bright  for  their 
eyes  and  they  dare  not  behold  her.  Hypocrisy  is  the 
deity  they  worship.  Look  through  the  world:  what 
is  it  recommends  men  but  the  poverty,  the  vice  and 
the  misery  of  others  ?  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  make 


29 


himself  better,  each  man  endeavours  to  make  hi^ 
neighbour  worse.  Each  man  rises  to  admiration  by 
treading  on  mankind.  Sancho,  let  them  call  me  mad ; 
I  am  not  mad  enough  to  court  their  approbation." 

Guzzle  enters  and  tells  Don  Quixote  that  the 
mayor  of  the  town  has  come  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Don 
Quixote  welcomes  the  mayor  asking  him  to  let  him 
know  the  object  of  his  visit.  The  mayor  says  that 
the  whole  town  is  highly  sensible  of  the  honour  he 
intends  them.  He  assures  him  of  the  entire  success  if 
he  stands  against  his  rival:  however,  he  continues, 
there  is  nothing  to  be  done  without  "bleeding"  freely 
on  these  occasions.  Don  Quixote  replies  that  he  is 
not  afraid  of  "blood"  and  that  he  will  preserve  the 
town  from  any  insults.  He  wishes  to  know  the  knight 
whom  he  is  going  to  fight.  The  mayor  informs  him 
that  he  stays  now  at  Loveland  Castle  with  600 
freeholders  at  his  heels.  Don  Quixote  now  begins  to 
denounce  his  adversary  as  a  deflowerer  of  virgins,  a 
debaucher  of  wives,  whereupon  the  mayor,  surprised, 
ventures  to  say  that  Sir  Thomas  Loveland,  his  rival 
is  rather  a  good-natured  and  civil  gentleman.  He  goe» 
on  to  say  that  the  whole  is  a  matter  of  money  and 
that  he  who  spends  the  most  will  carry  it.  Don 
Quixote,  on  hearing  this,  starts  up  and  calls  him  a 
caitiff.  "Hence  from  my  sight",  he  cries,  "or  by  the 
peerless  Dulcinea's  eyes,  thy  blood  shall  pay  the 
affront  thou  hast  given  my  honour  ! " 

Scene  IV-VII. 
Squire  Badger  and  his  huntsman  Scut   enter  the 
room.    Squire  Badger  wants  some  company.  The  inn- 
keeper is  very  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  comply  with  his 
demand,  the  only  guests  of  his  being  for  the  moment 


-     30     — 

a  young  lady  and  her  maid,  a  madman  and  a  squire. 
Then  he  tells  Badger  all  he  knows  about  Don  Quixote 
and  Sancho  Pansa.  Squire  Badger  is  highly  amused 
at  his  tale  and  wants  to  see  the  famous  knight  at 
once.  Don  Qaixote  is  presented  to  him  and  having 
exchanged  compliments  with  him,  reveals  him  his 
secret  that  he  has  just  discovered  a  beautiful  princess 
in  this  castle.  Squire  Badger,  who  is  very  fond  of 
music,  invites  his  huntsman  fco  entertain  them  with 
one  of  his  hunting-songs.  This  song  is  remarkable  for 
its  beauty ;  it  begins  with  the  fine  verse : 

"The  dusky  night  rides  down  the  sky 

And  ushers  in  the  morn 

The  hounds  all  join  in  glorious  cry 

The  huntsman  winds  his  horn." 
Dorothea  comes  in  and  is  introduced  to  Don 
Quixote  by  Squire  Badger  who  calls  her  the  finest 
woman  in  the  world.  Don  Quixote,  indignant  at  this 
preference  given  to  another  lady  than  his  peerless 
Dulcinea,  arises  to  protest  against  this  abuse.  He  calls 
him  a  rascal ;  Squire  Badger,  in  his  turn,  insults  Don 
Quixote  and  a  serious  contest  arises.  At  this  moment 
Sancho  comes  to  the  rescue  of  his  master,  who  has 
been  badly  treated  by  Squire  Badger. 
Scene  VIII  XII. 
Fairlove  meets  Squire  Badger  and  wants  to  know 
the  cause  of  his  dispute  with  Don  Quixote.  Badger 
tells  him  all  about  when  they  hear  from  the  court- 
yard a  dreadful  voice  crying :  "Avant,  caitiff!  think 
not,  thou  most  accursed  giant,  ever  to  enter  within 
this  castle  to  bring  any  more  captive  princesses  hither!* 
All  inquire  about  the  noise  arising  from  the  yard 
when  M'^  Guzzle  rushes  in  crying  out  for  help.  She 
tells  them  that  Don  Quixote  won't  suffer  the  stage- 


31 


coach  to  come  into  the  yard.  On  arriving  there,  they 
see  Don  Quixote,  armed  cap-a-pie,  his  lance  in  his 
hand,  standing  before  the  gate.  Nobody  dares  to  ap- 
proach him  until  Guzzle  comes  up  and  succeeds  to 
open  the  gates. 

Scene  XIII— XIV. 
The  stage-coach  enters  the  court-yard  and  M'"  Brief, 
lawyier,  D'"  Drench,  a  physician  and  M^  Sneak  with 
family  alight  from  the  carriage.  As  they  are  enter- 
ing the  house,  they  are  welcomed  by  Don  Quixote 
as  most  illustrious  and  high  lords.  He  congratulates 
them  upon  their  delivery  and  hopes  they  will  repair 
immediately  to  Toboso  to  present  their  respects  to  his 
lady  Dulcinea.  The  doctor  and  lawyier  at  once  per- 
ceive the  madness  of  Don  Quixote  and  are  discussing 
the  best  means  to  cure  his  insanity.  Meanwhile  Sancho 
is  looking  out  for  his  master.  He  rather  finds  that 
knight-errantry  is  a  dangerous  profession;  if  it  were 
not  for  the  island  his  master  had  promised  him,  he 
would  leave  England  at  once.  If  ever  he  should  happen 
to  be  governor  of  an  island,  he  would  do  like  other 
wise  governors  and  plunder  as  much  as  possible. 

Act  in.  Scene  I-V. 
Scene:  A  room. 
Fairlove  and  his  sweetheart  Dorothea,  Sancho 
and  M^s  Guzzle  admire  the  fine  dress  of  lezebel  who 
is  to  represent  the  lady  Dulcinea  del  Toboso  before 
Don  Quixote.  Sancho  says  that  he  has  never  seen 
such  gorgeous  fine  lady  in  all  Toboso;  he  tells 
lezebel  that  his  master  is  informed  of  the  approach 
of  his  mistress.  All  are  longing  for  the  moment  to 
see  Don  Quixote  receive  his  lady.  In  the  meantime 
Sir  Thomas  Loveland,  father  of  Dorothea,  enters  with 


—     32     — 

M**  Guzzle.  Sir  Thomas  wants  to  see  Squire  Badger 
whom  he  considers  a  very  advantageous  match  for 
his  daughter  considering  the  great  estate  he  is  told 
to  possess.  Squire  Badger  is  presented  to  him  and 
they  exchange  the  usual  compliments.  Squire  Badger 
tells  of  his  merry  London  life;  he  says,  if  he  had 
known  as  much  of  the  world  before,  he  would  scarce 
have  thought  of  marrying.  He  invites  Sir  Thomas 
to  a  „  cherishing  cup". 

Scene  VI-XIII. 
Scene:  The  yard. 
Don  Quixote  asks  Sancho  how  far  the  advanced 
guards  were  yet  from  the  castle  and  what  knights 
attended  to  her  presence.  Sancho  replies  that  he  saw 
more  than  a  dozen  of  rich  coaches  and  a  great  number 
of  maids  of  honour.  As  soon  as  lezebel  approaches, 
Don  Quixote  kneels  down,  addressing  her  as  his  most 
illustrious  and  mighty  princess  and  expressing  his 
thanks  for  the  infinite  goodness  shown  to  him.  le- 
zebel, all  smiling,  bids  him  to  rise ;  she  will  be  his 
eternally,  provided  she  is  assured  of  his  constancy. 
At  this  moment  Dorothea  rushes  in  crying  out  for 
help,  a  mighty  giant  pursuing  her.  Don  Quixote  at 
once  asks  leave  to  protect  her,  while  Sancho,  fearing 
for  his  bones,  is  stealing  away  from  the  scene.  Sir 
Thomas  Loveland  appears.  Don  Quixote,  supposing 
him  to  be  the  giant,  is  on  the  point  to  attack  him, 
when  Dorothea,  fearing  for  her  father,  throws  herself 
between  them  and  succeeds  to  calm  the  rage  of  Don 
Quixote.  Sancho  meanwhile  has  been  in  the  pantry 
where  he  stuffs  his  belly  as  if  he  had  never  seen 
any  food  before.  Though  he  likes  English  beef  and 
pudding,  he  wants  to  get  out  of  this  cursed  fighting 


—     33     — 

country.  M*"^  Guzzle  is  lamenting  over  the  mischief 
done  by  Quixote.  She  says  that  the  house  is  ruined 
for  ever,  that  all  windows  are  broken,  her  guests 
crying,  swearing  and  stamping  like  dragoons. 

Scene  XIV-XVL 
Squire  Badger,  heated  with  wine,  appears;  he 
insults  Sir  Thomas  whom  he  charges  as  a  liar.  He  is 
not  ashamed  to  ask  Dorothea  for  a  kiss.  Don  Quixote, 
seeing  this,  comes  up  to  protect  her.  He  addresses 
her  father,  Sir  Thomas,  beseeching  him,  not  to  con- 
fide his  daughter  to  a  man  like  Squire  Badger.  Do- 
rothea confesses  her  father  that  she  never  loved  and 
never  would  love  Squire  Badger,  though  he  might 
be  the  richest  man  of  the  world.  Squire  Badger  departs 
with  new  insults  against  Sir  Thomas  who  finally  sees 
the  wrong  he  was  doing  to  his  daughter.  He  no  more 
opposes  the  union  of  his  daughter  with  Fairlove  who 
is  quite  happy  to  carry  home  his  sweetheart.  Brief, 
the  lawyer,  enters ;  he  says  that  he  has  been  abused, 
beaten,  hurt,  disfigured  and  defaced  by  a  rogue,  rascal 
and  villain.  D^*  Drench,  on  his  side,  declares  his  ad- 
versary to  be  a  madman  who  should  be  blooded  and 
cupped  to  cure  him  of  his  frenzy.  The  cook  appears, 
haling  in  Sancho,  who  has  been  surprised  stuffing  his 
wallet  with  everything  to  be  found  in  the  kitchen, 
Don  Quixote  is  ashamed  of  his  squire  and  calls  him 
a  slave  and  a  caitiff.  Sir  Thomas,  however,  says  a 
few  words  in  favour  of  poor  Sancho  and  Fairlove  is 
ready  to  pay  Guzzle  for  all  the  mischief  done  by  the 
squire  and  his  illustrious  master.  Sir  Thomas  invites 
Don  Quixote  to  his  daughter's  wedding  and  promises 
to  do  the  best  in  his  power  for  his  entertainment. 
D^  Drench  hopes,  Sir  Thomas  won't  take   a  madman 


34 


to  his  house.  Don  Quixote  in  his  turn  declares  doctor 
and  lawyer  to  be  mad  as  well  as  himself,  both  living 
at  the  expense  of  honest  people.  The  scene  closes  with 
the  air: 

"All  mankind  are  mad,  'tis  plain 

Some  for  places 

Some  embraces 

Some  are  mad  to  keep  up  gain 

And  others  mad  to  spend  it". 

Since  your  madness  is  so  plain 

Each  spectator 

Of  good  nature 

With  applause  will  entertain 

Don  Quixote  and  Squire  Sancho." 

c)  Characters  and  Sources. 

However  absurd  in  design  or  unfitted  for  the 
stage,  Fielding's  '^Don  Quixote  in  England"  will  never- 
theless be  found  both  readable  and  entertaining. 

If  Don  Quixote  and  his  trusty  squire  are  not  very 
felicitously  introduced  on  English  ground,  yet  their 
respective  characters,  as  developed  in  Cervantes'  ro- 
mance, are  admirably  preserved. 

Fielding's  Don  Quixote  is  the  identical  Don  of 
the  Spanish  romance :  the  very  soul  of  honour,  a  mo- 
nomaniac, it  is  true,  but  a  man  of  rare  wit  and  wis- 
dom. Whilst  his  acts  are  those  of  a  madman,  his 
language  is  that  of  a  philosopher.  He  mistakes  a  pack 
of  dogs  for  an  army,  but  he  denounces  in  no  measured 
terms  the  social  anomalies  and  vices  which  most  revolt 
a  chivalrous  nature.  He  wages  war,  not  only  against 
giants  and  monsters,  but  against  hypocrisy,  servility, 
cunning  and  corruption.  In  fact,  a  happy  mixture  of 
sense  and  extravagance  distinguishes  the  hero  of  the 


—     35     — 

comedy  as  well  as  of  the  romance.  Take  the  following 
passage,  in  which  the  coarse  characters  and  amuse- 
ments of  the  country  squires  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury are  felicitously  satirised: 

Don  Quixote :  "There  is  now  arrived  in  this  castle 
one  of  the  most  accursed  giants  that  ever  infested  the 
earth.  He  marches  at  the  head  of  his  army  that  howl 
like  Turks  in  an  engagement". 

Sancho:  "Oh,  lud!  oh  lud!  this  is  the  country 
squire  at  the  head  of  his  pack  of  dogs". 

Quixote:    "What  dost  thou  mutter,  varlet?" 

Sancho :  "Why,  Sir,  this  giant,  that  your  worship 
talks  of,  is  a  country  gentleman  going  a-courting  and 
his  army  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  his  kennel  of 
foxhounds. " 

Quixote:  "Oh,  the  prodigious  force  of  enchant- 
ment !  Sirrah,  I  tell  thee,  this  is  the  giant  Toglogmo- 
glog,  lord  of  the  island  Gogmogog,  whose  belly  hath 
been  the  tomb  of  above  a  thousand   strong  men." 

Sancho:  "Of  above  a  thousand  hogsheads  of  strong 
beer,  I  believe." 

Quixote:  "This  must  be  the  enchanter  Merlin.  I 
know  him  by  his  dogs.  But  thou  idiot!  dost  thou 
imagine  that  women  are  to  be  hunted  like  hares,  that 
a  man  would  carry  his  hounds  with  him  to  visit  his 
mistress  ?  " 

Sancho :  "Sir,  your  true  English  squire  and  his  hounds 
are  as  inseparable  as  the  Spaniard  and  his  Toledo.  He 
eats  with  his  hounds,  drinks  with  his  hounds,  and  lies 
with  his  hounds;  your  true  errant  English  squire  is 
but  the  first  dog-boy  in  his  house." 

Quixote:  "'Tis  pity  then  that  fortune  should  con- 
tradict the  order  of  nature.   It  was  a  wise  institution 


—     36     — 

of  Plato  to  educate  children  according  to  their  minds, 
not  to  their  births;  these  squires  should  sow  their 
corn  which  they  ride  over.  Sancho,  when  I  see  a  gent- 
leman on  his  own  coach-box,  I  regret  the  loss  which 
some  has  had  of  a  coachman;  the  man  who  toils  all 
day  after  a  partridge  or  a  pheasant  might  serve  his 
country  by  toiling  after  a  plough;  and  when  I  see 
a  low,  mean,  tricking  lord,  I  lament  the  loss  of  an 
excellent  attorney.* 

The  character  of  Don  Quixote  himself  is  one  of 
the  most  perfect  disinterestedness.  He  is  an  enthusiast 
of  the  most  amiable  kind,  of  a  nature  equally  open, 
gentle  and  generous,  a  lover  of  truth  and  justice  and 
one  who  has  brooded  over  the  fine  dreams  of  chivalry 
and  romance,  till  they  had  robbed  him  of  himself  and 
cheated  his  brain  into  a  belief  of  their  reality. 

The  character  of  Sancho  is  admirable  in  itself, 
but  still  more  as  a  relief  to  that  of  the  knight.  The 
contrast  is  as  picturesque  and  striking  as  that  between 
the  figures  of  Don  Quixote's  steed  and  Sancho*s  ass. 
Never  was  there  so  complete  a  "partie  quarr^e":  they 
answer  to  one  another  at  all  points.  Nothing  need 
surpass  the  truth  of  physiognomy  in  the  description 
of  the  master  and  man,  both  as  to  body  and  mind: 
the  one  lean  and  tall,  the  other  round  and  short;  the 
one  heroical  and  courteous,  the  other  selfish  and  ser- 
vile; the  one  full  of  high-flown  fancies,  the  other  a 
bag  of  proverbs;  the  one  always  starting  some  ro- 
mantic scheme,  the  other  trying  to  the  safe  side  of 
custom  and  tradition.  The  gradual  ascendancy,  how- 
ever, obtained  by  Don  Quixote  over  Sancho,  is  as 
finely  managed   as  it  is  characteristic.    Credulity  and 


37 


a  love  of  the  marvellous  are  as  natural  to  ignorance 
as  selfishness  and  cunning. 

Don  Quixote  is  not  merely  to  be  regarded  as  a 
Spanish  cavalier,  filled  with  a  Spanish  madness  and 
introduced  on  English  ground  —  he  is  also  the  type  of 
a  more  universal  madness  —  he  is  the  symbol  of  ima- 
gination, continually  struggling  and  contrasted  with 
reality.  He  represents  the  eternal  warfare  between 
enthusiasm  and  necessity,  the  eternal  discrepancy  bet- 
ween the  aspirations  and  the  occupations  of  man,  the 
omnipotence  and  the  vanity  of  human  dreams. 

Cervantes'  design  in  writing  his  famous  romance 
has  been,  as  he  says  himself  at  the  very  beginning 
of  his  work,  to  break  down  the  vogue  and  authority 
of  books  of  chivalry.  Fielding's  object  in  writing  his 
comedy  was  to  give  "a  lively  representation  of  the 
calamities  brought  on  a  country  by  general  corruption." 
As  will  be  pointed  ont  in  the  following  chapter,  Fiel- 
ding did  not  succeed  in  his  enterprise.  However,  the 
election  scenes,  in  which  Don  Quixote  is  brought  into 
contact  with  the  corrupt  rulers  of  the  borough,  which 
he  is  solicited  to  stand  for  as  a  candidate,  exhibit  a 
dramatic  skill  and  humour  which  few  of  English 
comic  writers  have  excelled.  These  scenes,  though  but 
slightly  attached  to  the  main  story,  are  keenly  satirical 
and  considering  that  Hogarth's  famous  series  of  kind- 
red prints  belongs  to  a  much  later  date,  must  certainly 
have  been  novel,  as  may  be  gathered  from  the  follow- 
ing little  colloquy  between  M'*  Mayor  and  M^^^rs  Guzzle 
and  Retail: 

Mayor  (to  Retail):  ...  *!  like  an  opposition, 
because  otherwise  a  man  may  be  obliged  to  vote 
against  his  party;   therefore,  when  we  invite  a  gent- 


-.      38     — 

leman  to  stand,  we  invite  him  to  spend  his  money 
for  the  honour  of  his  party;  and  when  both  parties 
have  spent  as  much  as  they  are  able,  every  honest 
man  will  vote  according  to  his  conscience. 

Guzzle :  "M"*  Mayor  talks  like  a  man  of  sense 
and  honour  and  it  does  me  good  to  hear  him." 

Mayor :  ,  Ay,  ay,  M^  Guzzle,  I  never  gave  a  vote 
contrary  to  my  conscience.  I  have  earnestly  recom- 
mended the  country  interest  to  all  my  brethren,  but 
before  that  I  recommended  the  town-interest,  that  is 
the  interest  of  this  corporation,  and  first  of  all  I  re- 
commended to  every  particular  man  to  take  a  parti- 
cular care  of  himself.  And  it  is  with  a  certain  way 
of  reasoning,  that  he  who  serves  me  best,  will  serve 
the  town  best  and  he  that  serves  the  town  best,  will 
serve  the  country  best." 

Fielding  was  anxious  to  maintain  as  much  as 
possible  the  characters  of  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho 
as  they  are  present  to  us  in  Cervantes'  romance. 
However,  to  delineate  the  character  of  Don  Quixote 
was  no  easy  task  for  Fielding,  as  he  could  hardly 
hope  to  reach  his  model.  And  still,  we  dare  say,  he 
has  made  the  best  of  it.  As  in  the  romance,  the  hero 
suffers  only  of  partial  madness ;  his  fantastical  love 
for  Dulcinea,  his  imaginary  ideas  of  enchanters,  kings 
and  princesses  are  a  result  of  his  enthusiasm  for  knight- 
errantry.  All  actions  and  discourses  are  therefore, 
however  absurd  they  may  be,  the  logical  outcome 
of  his  fixed  ideas.  As  to  the  rest,  he  is  very  reason- 
able and  has  a  deep  insight  in  human  nature,  to  put 
to  shame  even  those  who  assume  to  possess  a  good  deal 
of  common  sense  and  sound  judgment.  Act  III,  Scene 
14,  affords  a  very  good  instance  of  it.  Don  Quixote  is 


—     39     ~ 

quite  indignant  at  Sir  Thomas'  behaviour  who  intends 
to  give  his  daughter  to  the  rich  but  heartless  Squire 
Badger  rather  than  to  accept  poor  honest  Fairlove, 
whose  love  is  shared  by  Dorothea.  "Do  you",  he  ad- 
dresses Sir  Thomas,"  marry  your  daughter  for  her 
sake  or  your  own  ?  If  for  hers,  sure  it  is  something 
whimsical  to  make  her  miserable  in  order  to  make  her 
happy.  Money  is  a  thing  well  worth  considering  in 
these  affairs,  but  parents  always  regard  it  too  much 
and  lovers  too  little.  No  match  can  be  happy,  which 
love  and  fortune  do  not  conspire  to  make  so." 

The  source  of  this  scene  is  very  likely  Moliere's 
"Avare"  (Act  I,  Scene  7),  where  Valere  says:  .  .  . 
"II  y  a  des  gens  qui  pourraient  vous  dire  qu'en  de 
telles  occasions  I'inclination  d'une  fille  est  une  chose, 
sans  doute,  ou  Ton  doit  avoir  de  I'egard  .  .  .  Ce  n*est 
pas  qu'  il  n*y  ait  quantity  de  pferes  qui  aimeraient 
mieux  manager  la  satisfaction  de  leurs  filles  que  I'ar- 
gent  qu'ils  pourraient  donner  et  qui  ne  les  voudraient 
point  sacrifier  a  I'int^ret  .  .  .  ." 

All  this  clearly  shows  that  Don  Quixote  is  in 
every  respect  a  high-minded  man  and  we  fully  adhere 
to  the  opinion  of  Sir  Thomas  Loveland,  when  he  says : 
'^I  don't  know  whether  this  knight,  by  and  by,  may 
not  prove  us  all  to  be  more  mad  than  himself." 
(Act  m,  Scene  XVI). 

Don  Quixote's  fantastical  design  was  to  reesta- 
blish in  his  own  person  knight-errantry  with  all  its 
merits  and  defects.  In  his  brain  the  imaginary  ad- 
ventures and  noble  deeds  of  an  Amadis  and  other 
heroes  were  taking  shape  as  of  flesh  and  blood. 
Once  we  have  fully  acknowledged  this  fact,  we  per- 
fectly  understand  that   he   takes   guests   arriving  at 


I 


-     40     - 

the  inn  as  giants  or  knights,  that  he  sees  in  Dorothea 
an  enchanted  princess,  that  he  believes  that  Jezebel, 
Dorothea's  maid,  is  his  beloved  Dulcinea  del  Toboso, 
that  he  attacks  a  stage-coach  and  smashes  the  windows 
to  pieces  in  order  to  deliver  the  enchanted  captive 
princesses. 

As  to  Sancho,  he  is  the  same  fainthearted,  greedy 
and  indolent  fellow  as  in  Cervantes'  romance.  Like 
his  prototype  he  has  a  certain  predilection  for  Don 
Quixote,  hoping  to  be  finally  rewarded  with  the 
promised  island;  he  also  expresses  his  realistic  opi- 
nions in  floods  of  proverbs.  He  is  somewhat  infected 
by  the  partial  madness  of  his  master,  but  his  ideas 
are  on  the  whole  very  rational  and  full  of  common 
sense.  Almost  every  feature  of  Sancho's  character  is 
traced  from  the  original.  There  is  only  one  action  not 
to  be  found  in  the  original:  Sancho's  robbery  in  the 
last  scene  of  the  S^  act. 

Fielding  has  succeeded  very  well  in  introducing 
the  famous  knight  and  his  squire  on  English  ground, 
with  the  object  to  ridicule  English  vices  and  corrupted 
manners.  He  could  not  do  it  better  than  by  showing 
that  people  of  world  and  manners,  the  very  repre- 
sentatives of  their  class,  were  even  inferior  in  reason- 
able judgment  and  noble  feeling  to  a  man  who  by 
all  the  world  was  looked  upon  as  a  madman. 

Squire  Badger  too,  a  rudimentary  Squire  Western, 
is  vigorously  drawn.  The  song  of  his  huntsman  Scut 
(act  II,  scene  V),  beginning  with  the  fine  line  "The 
dusky  night  rides  down  the  sky"  has  a  verse  that 
recalls  a  practice  of  which  Addison  accuses  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley  ("The  Spectator"  1711—12): 


—     41     — 

"A  brushing  fox  in  yonder  wood 

Secure  to  find  we  seek ; 

For  why,  I  carry'd  sound  and  good 

A  cartload  there  last  week. 

....  And  a-hunting  we  will  go"  etc. 

From  the  history  of  the  stage  it  appears  that 
Macklin,  Fielding's  partner,  when  starting  a  new 
company  at  the  Haymarket,  was  very  successful  in 
acting  Squire  Badger.  This  figure  must  have  been  quite 
popular  with  Englishmen,  for  in  1772  a  certain  D^ 
Arne  brought  out  a  burletta  "Squire  Badger '^  with 
music  composed  by  himself.  This  play,  whose  cha- 
racters and  design  are  taken  from  Fielding's  "Don 
Quixote  in  England"  was  reacted  in  1775  under  the 
title  of  "The  Sot\ 

Gusde  is  a  copy  of  Cervantes'  landlord  in  chapter 
16  ff.  of  the  1^^  part;  he  shows  the  same  irritation  at 
Don  Quixote's  refusal  not  to  pay  his  debts. 

Dorothea  reminds  us  that  she  bears  the  same  name 
as  the  girl  whose  story  is  narrated  in  the  I^^  part  of 
the  romance. 

Sir  Thomas  Loveland  ant  the  mayor,  as  well  as 
Squire  Badger,  are  quite  original  figures  of  Fielding 
and  exhibit  his  rising  power  of  delineating  charac- 
ters. They  are  the  first  step  to  his  development  as 
a  painter  of  characters  which  we  admire  in  his  great 
novels  "Tom  Jones",  "Joseph  Andrews"  and  "Ame- 
lia". Already  in  his  dramatical  pieces,  written  in  the 
first  part  of  his  life,  we  find  Fielding  a  keen  observer 
of  English  life  and  manners  and  we  cannot  follow 
his  literary  career  without  studying  these  dramas. 

G.  Becker  in  his  "Aufnahme  des  Don  Quijote 
in  die  englische  Literatur*  (Palaestra  XIII,  pag.  129) 
thinks    that    Fielding's    Don    Quixote  has   still  more 


—     42     — 

affinity  with  Moli^re's  "Misanthrope"  than  with  Cer- 
vantes' work.  Fielding's  hero  is,  like  Moliere's  Alceste, 
the  only  moral  person  in  a  corrupted  society  where 
selfishness  reigns  instead  of  truth  and  justice. 

Fielding's  Don  Quixote,  compared  with  Beaumont 
and  Fletcher's  "The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle"  and 
D'Urfey's  "Comical  History  of  Don  Quixote*^  marks  a 
real  progress :  Don  Quixote  is  no  more  a  comical  figure, 
but  a  serious  dramatical  character;  the  action  is  con- 
form to  his  character. 

The  weak  side  of  the  drama  are  the  many  epi- 
sodes which  serve  to  put  the  hero  in  contrast  to  the 
other  characters  of  the  comedy. 

Fielding's  comedy,  though  well  written,  is  ill 
calculated  for  the  stage,  because  mere  knight-errantry 
without  spectacle  never  had  success  upon  the  English 
theatre.  M""  Dibdin,  in  his  "History  of  the  Stage "^ 
(vol.  V,  p.  43)  says:  "If  Fielding  had  carried  Don 
Quixote  to  any  other  part  of  the  world  and  intro- 
duced a  few  elephants  or  camels  and  made  him  fight 
half  a  dozen  tigers,  and  had  decorated  the  stage  with 
castles  that  lose  their  battlements  in  the  air,  about 
fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  the  whole  an  outrage 
upon  nature  and  art,  the  redoubted  knight,  as  mad 
as  his  audiences,  might  have  acted  every  species  of 
extravagance  to  the  admiration  of  full  houses". 


VI. 

Fielding  and  Walpole. 


The  first  time  in  Fielding's  life  we  hear  of  Sir 
Robert  Walpole,  is  in  1730,  when  Fielding  addresses 
a  poetical  epistle  to  the  prime-minister.  In  this  rymed 
petition  Fielding  makes  pleasant  mirth  of  what  no 
doubt  was  sometimes  sober  truth  —  his  debts,  his  duns 
and  his  dinnerless  condition.  So  he  says  in  one  of 
his  verses  (cf.  Miscellanies,  vol.  I.  p.  42): 

"The  family  that  dines  the  latest 

Is  in  our  street  esteemed  the  greatest, 

But  latest  hours  must  surely  fall 

Before  him  who  never  dines  at  all." 


"This  too  does  in  my  favour  speak 

Your  Levee  is  but  twice  a  week 

From  mine  I  can  exclude  but  one  day 

My  door  is  quiet  on  a  Sunday." 
In  1731  Fielding  dedicated  one  of  his  plays  „The 
Modern    Husband"    to  Walpole,   in  whom   he    recog- 
nised,   amongst    other    more    plausible    characters,    a 
"foster-son  of  the  Muses". 

With  regard  to  Walpole's  character  in  private  and 
public  life,  Chesterfield  says  in  his  "Characters  of 
eminent  personages  of  his  own  time"  (Appendix  to 
Miscellaneous  Works  p.  31  jff.) :  "In  private  life  he  was 


I 


44 


good-natured,  cheerful,  social,  inelegant  in  his  manners, 
loose  in  his  morals;  he  had  a  coarse  strong  wit, 
which  he  was  too  free  of  for  a  man  in  his  station, 
as  it  is  always  inconsistent  with  dignity.  He  was 
yery  able  as  minister,  but  without  a  certain  elevation 
of  mind,  necessary  for  great  good  or  great  mischief. 
Profuse  and  appetent,  his  ambition  was  subservient 
to  his  design  of  making  a  great  fortune  (Walpole  did 
not  die  a  rich  man ;  it  is  plain  then  that  he  disdained 
the  accumulation  of  riches  which  could  not  be  ob- 
tained but  by  the  oppression  of  his  country).  He  had 
more  of  the  Mazarin  than  of  the  Richelieu  —  he  would 
do  mean  things  for  profit  and  never  thought  of  doing 
great  ones  for  glory.  He  was  both  the  best  parliament- 
man  and  the  ablest  manager  of  parliament  that  I  be- 
lieve ever  lived.  Money,  not  prerogative,  was  the 
chief  engine  of  his  administration  and  he  employed 
it  with  a  success,  which  in  a  manner  disgraced  hu- 
manity. Besides  this  powerful  engine  of  government, 
he  had  a  most  extraordinary  talent  of  persuading 
and  working  men  up  to  his  purpose  —  a  hearty 
kind  of  frankness,  which  sometimes  seemed  impru- 
dence, made  people  think  that  he  led  them  into  his 
secrets,  whilst  the  impoliteness  of  his  manners  seemed 
to  attest  his  sincerity.  He  was  loved  by  many,  but 
respected  by  none,  his  familiar  and  illiberal  mirth 
and  raillery  leaving  him  no  dignity.  He  was  not 
vindictive  but  on  the  contrary  very  placable  to  those 
who  had  injured  him  the  most.  His  good  humour, 
good  nature  and  beneficence  in  the  several  relations 
of  father,  husband,  master  and  friend,  gained  him  the 
warmest  affections  of  all  within  that  circle.  His  name 
will  not  be  recorded  in  history  amongst  the  best  men 


45 


or  the  best  ministers,    but  much    less  ought   it  to  be 
ranked  amongst  the  worst." 

In  1734  Fielding  wrote  his  *'Don  Quixote  in  Eng- 
land", in  which  ~  as  he  tells  Lord  Chesterfield  in 
his  dedication  —  he  designed  to  give  a  lively  repre- 
sentation of  the  calamaties  brought  on  a  country  by 
general  corruption." 

The  opposition  to  Walpole  was  gathering  strength. 
No  opposition  arrayed  against  a  powerful  ministry 
ever  included  a  larger  share  of  the  talents  of  the  coun- 
try, both  political  and  literary,  than  that  which  opposed 
the  later  years  of  Walpole' s  authority.  Pope  and  Swift, 
Johnson  and  Fielding,  Glover  and  Akenside  may  be 
counted  as  sympathising  for  various  reasons  with  the 
opposition.  Walpole  was  regarded  as  the  centre  of  all 
corruption  and  men  fancied  that  the  overthrow  of  his 
power  would  of  itself  instil  purity  to  the  political 
body.  But  the  system  of  government  was  far  too  deeply 
rooted  to  be  dependent  upon  one  man's  power.  It 
is  true  that  Walpole  was  the  conspicuous  represen- 
tative of  that  system  of  which  Fielding's  Mayor  and 
Corporation  (cf.  Act  II,  Scene  III)  were  a  natural  pro- 
duct, that  is  to  say,  of  a  system  in  which  the  gover- 
ning classes  themselves  formed  something  like  a  close 
corporation  for  the  distribution  of  places  and  powers, 
not  very  sensitive  to  a  healthy  public  opinion  and  with 
very  shortsighted  views  of  anything  beyond  immediate 
commercial  profit. 

In  the  "Pasquin*  (1736)  Fielding  pursues  the  theme 
already  suggested  in  "Don  Quixote  in  England"  and 
gives  a  forcible  description  of  a  contested  election,  a 
new  attack  upon  corruption.  His  next  comedy,  "The 
Historical  Register  for  1736"  proved  a  much    bolder 


—     46     — 

and  more  objectionable  performance  even  than  "Pas- 
quin"  and  its  representation  led  to  important  con- 
sequences as  regarded  the  interests  and  independence 
of  the  stage.  Sir  Robert  Walpole  himself  was  intro- 
duced in  the  piece  under  the  name  of  "Quidam",  silen- 
cing some  noisy  patriots  with  a  bribe  and  then  dan- 
cing off  with  them. 

The  frank  effrontery  of  satire  like  the  foregoing 
had  by  this  time  begun  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  Ministry  and  it  has  been  conjectured  that  the 
ballet  of  Quidam  and  the  Patriots  played  no  small 
part  in  precipitating  the  famous  "Licensing  Act", 
which  was  passed  a  few  weeks  afterwards.  About 
this  time  Giffard,  the  manager  of  Goodman's  Fields, 
brought  Walpole  a  farce  called  „The  Golden  Rump"^) 
which  had  been  proposed  for  exhibition.  Whether  he 
did  this  to  extort  money  or  to  ask  advice,  is  not 
clear.  In  either  case,  Walpole  is  said  to  have  "paid 
the  profits  which  might  have  accrued  from  the  per- 
formance and  detained  the  copy".  He  then  made  a 
compendious  selection  of  the  treasonable  and  profane 
passages  it  contained.  These  he  submitted  to  inde- 
pendent   members    of    both    parties   and     afterwards 


')  "The  Golden  Rump"  has  never  been  printed,  although  its 
title  is  identical  with  that  of  a  caricature  published  in  March  1737 
and  fully  described  in  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine"  for  that  month. 
If  the  play  at  all  resembled  the  design,  it  must  have  been 
obscene  and  scurrilous  in  the  extreme.  Horace  Walpole  in  his 
"Memoirs  of  the  last  ten  years  of  the  reign  of  George  II"  says:  „I 
have  in  my  possession  the  imperfect  copy  of  this  piece  as  I  found 
it  among  my  father's  papers  after  his  death."  He  calls  it  Fielding's, 
but  no  importance  can  be  attached  to  the  statement.  There  is  a 
copy  of  the  caricature  in  the  British  Museum  Print  Room  (Political 
and  Personal  Satires  No  23271). 


—     47     — 

read  them  in  the  House  itself.  The  result  was  that 
by  way  of  amendment  to  the  "Vagrant  Act"  of 
Anne's  reign  a  bill  was  prepared  limiting  the  number 
of  theatres  and  compelling  all  dramatic  writers  to 
obtain  a  license  from  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

It  is  alleged  that  Walpole  himself  caused  the  farce 
in  question  to  be  written  and  to  be  offered  to  Gif- 
fard  for  the  purpose  of  introducting  his  scheme  of 
reform;  and  the  suggestion  is  not  without  a  certain 
plausibility.  Meanwhile  the  new  bill  passed  rapidly 
through  both  Houses.  Report  speaks  of  animated 
discussions  and  warm  opposition,  but  there  are  no 
traces  of  any  divisions  or  petitions  against  it  and  the 
only  speech  which  has  survived  is  the  very  elaborate 
and  careful  oration  delivered  in  the  Upper  House  by 
Lord  Chesterfield.  He  opposed  the  bill  upon  the 
ground  that  it  would  affect  the  liberty  of  the  press 
and  that  it  was  practically  a  tax  upon  the  chief  pro- 
perty of  men  of  letters,  their  wit.  He  dwelt  also 
upon  the  value  of  the  stage  as  a  fearless  censor  of 
vice  and  folly  and  he  quoted  with  excellent  effect  the 
famous  answer  of  the  Prince  of  Conti  to  Moliere, 
when  "Tartuffe"  was  interdicted  at  the  instance  of  M. 
de  Lamoignon :  "It  is  true,  Moliere,  Harlequin  ridicules 
Heaven  and  exposes  religion,  but  you  have  done 
much  worse  —  you  have  ridiculed  the  first  minister  of 
religion".  Although  in  Lord  Chesterfield's  speech  Fiel- 
ding is  ironically  condemned,  it  may  well  be  that 
Fielding,  whose  "Don  Quixote"  had  been  dedicated 
to  his  Lordship,  was  the  wire-puller  in  this  case 
and  supplied  this  very  illustration.  But  the  feeling 
ot  Parliament  in  favour  of  drastic  legislation  was 
even  stronger  than  the  persuasive  periods  of  Chester- 


—     48     — 

field,   and  on  the  2P'  of  June  1737  the  bill  received 
the  royal  assent. 

With  the  passing  of  the  "Licensing  Act"  Fiel- 
ding's career  as  a  dramatic  author  was  practically 
closed.  In  his  dedication  of  the  "Historical  Register" 
to  the  public,  he  had  spoken  of  his  desire  to  beau- 
tify and  enlarge  his  little  theatre  and  to  procure  a 
better  company  of  actors  and  he  had  added:  "If 
nature  has  given  me  any  talents  at  ridiculing  vice 
and  imposture,  I  shall  not  be  indolent,  nor  afraid  of 
exerting  them,  while  the  liberty  of  the  press  and 
stage  subsists,  that  is  to  say,  while  we  have  any  liberty 
left  among  us."  To  all  these  projects  the  "Licensing 
Act"  effectively  put  an  end  and  the  only  other  plays 
from  his  pen  which  were  produced  subsequently  to 
this  date  were  "The  Wedding  Day"  (1743)  and  the 
posthumous  "Good-natured  Man*  (1779),  both  of  which, 
as  is  plain  from  the  Preface  to  the  Miscellanies,  were 
among  his  earliest  attempts. 


VII. 


FIELDING'S  ATTEMPT  AS  A  DRAMATICAL 
WRITER. 


An  ingenious  English  writer  has  passed  a  jud- 
gment upon  Ben  Jonson,  which  may  be  justly  applied 
to  Fielding,  though  our  great  novelist  did  not  attain 
the  same  dramatic  eminence  as  the  author  ol  "Vol- 
pone  the  Fox".  "His  taste  for  ridicule",  he  says, 
"was  strong,  but  indelicate,  which  made  him  not  over- 
curious  in  the  choice  of  his  topics.  And  lastly,  his 
style  in  picturing  his  characters,  thoug  masterly,  was 
without  that  elegance  of  hand  which  is  required  to 
correct  and  allay  the  force  of  so  bold  a  colouring. 
Thus  the  bias  of  his  nature  leading  him  to  Plautus 
rather  than  Terence  for  his  model,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  that  his  wit  is  too  frequently  caustic,  his 
raillery  coarse  and  his  humour  excessive". 

Arthur  Murphy,  Fielding* s  friend  and  first  bio- 
grapher, attributes  his  failure  as  a  dramatist  to  his 
want  of  refinement.  "Without  a  tincture  of  delicacy", 
he  says,  "running  through  an  entire  piece  and  giving 
to  good  sense  an  air  of  urbanity  and  politeness,  it 
appears  to  me,  that  no  comedy  will  ever  be  of  that 
kind,  which  Horace  says  will  be  particularly  desired". 


—     50     — 

There  seems  to  be  little  or  no  doubt  that  this  want 
of  refinement  was  principally  owing  to  the  woun- 
dings  which  every  fresh  dissappointment  gave  him, 
before  he  was  yet  well  disciplined  in  the  school  of 
life;  for  in  a  more  advanced  period  with  a  calmer 
and  more  dispassionate  temper,  we  perceive  him 
giving  all  the  graces  of  description  to  incidents 
and  passions,  which  in  his  youth  he  would  have 
dashed  out  with  a  rougher  hand.  Perhaps  the  aspe- 
rity of  Fielding*s  muse  was  not  little  encouraged  by 
the  practice  of  two  great  wits  who  had  fallen  into 
the  same  vein  before  him :  Wycherley  and  Congreve, 
who  were  in  general  painters  of  harsh  features,  atta- 
ched more  to  subjects  of  deformity  than  grace.  These 
two  writers  were  not  fond  of  copying  the  amiable 
part  of  life;  they  had  not  learned  the  secret  of  gi- 
ving the  softer  graces  of  composition  to  their  pic- 
tures by  contrasting  the  fair  and  beautiful  in  charac- 
ters and  manners  to  the  vicious  and  irregular  and  thereby 
rendering  their  pieces  more  exact  imitations  of  nature. 

There  is  another  circumstance  respecting  the 
drama,  in  which  Fielding's  judgment  seems  to  have 
failed  him:  the  strength  of  his  genius  certainly  lay 
in  fabulous  narration  and  he  did  not  sufficiently  con- 
sider that  some  incidents  of  a  story,  which,  when 
related,  may  be  worked  up  into  a  deal  of  pleasantry 
and  humour,  are  apt,  when  thrown  into  action,  to 
excite  sensations  incompatible  with  humour  and  ridi- 
cule. To  these  causes  of  our  author's  failure  in  the 
province  of  the  drama,  may  be  added  that  sovereign 
contempt  he  always  entertained  for  the  understandings 
of  the  generality  of  mankind.  It  was  in  vain  to  tell 
him  that  a  particular  scene  was  dangerous  on  account 


51 


of  its  coarseness  or  because  it  retarded  the  general 
business  with  feeble  efforts  of  wit;  he  doubted  the 
discernment  of  his  auditors  and  so  thought  himself 
secured  by  their  stupidity,  if  not  by  his  own  humour 
and  vivacity. 

These  are  the  principal  causes  of  Fielding's  fai- 
lure in  dramatical  composition.  And  yet,  it  would 
be  injust  to  deny  that  even  his  plays  show  a  certain 
tendency  to  progress.  A  continual  improvement  is  to 
be  stated  in  his  comedies  as  well  as  in  his  novels. 
The  mere  fact  that  his  plays  are  the  first  step  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  famous  novels,  renders  them 
interesting  and  valuable  to  the  literary  world.  The 
whole  of  his  dramatical  productions  may  be  justly 
compared  to  a  collection  of  episodes  of  a  great  novel 
representing  all  classes  of  the  society  of  his  time. 
Hence  the  great  affinity  of  characters  and  situations 
in  his  plays  and  novels.  —  However,  Fielding  has 
never  attained  the  height  of  Molieres  "Misanthrope** 
and  "Tartuffe".  In  many  plays  of  the  later  period 
he  has  entirely  freed  himself  from  the  influence  of 
Wycherley,  Congreve  and  the  French  school  and 
only  his  predilection  and  eminent  talent  for  the  novel 
has  prevented  him  from  climbing  the  highest  pitch 
of  dramatical  perfection.  Still,  his  productions  are 
on  the  whole  very  good,  considering  the  bad  condi- 
tions of  the  stage  at  this  time.  They  certainly  have 
contributed  a  good  deal  to  the  improvement  of  the 
taste  and  manners  of  his  contemporaries.  Each  of 
his  plays  has  some  good  scene  and  all  exhibit  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  human  nature.  They  give  a 
splendid  description  of  the  vices  and  virtues  of  men ; 
they  are    singularly  efficient  by  their    delineation  of 


52 


characters,  the  comic  of  their  situations  and  their 
humour.  We  remark  with  pleasure  that  all  this  is  the 
spontaneous  expression  of  his  inmost  thoughts  and 
feelings.  Without  possessing  the  grace  and  elegance 
of  Addison  and  Goldsmith  or  the  lightness  and  viva- 
city of  Lesage,  Fielding  was  master  of  a  vigorous 
manly  and  truly  English  style,  though  occasionally 
incorrect.  His  most  remarkable  peculiarity  is  the 
constant  employment  of  "hath"  and  "doth"  for  "has" 
and  "does".  This  occurs,  as  far  as  I  know,  in  no  other 
writer  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

One  of  Fielding's  most  remarkable  qualities  in 
playwriting  is  his  satire. 

In  no  other  play  is  Fielding's  satire  so  manifest 
as  in  "The  Tragedy  of  Tragedies"  or  "The  Life  and 
Death  of  Tom  Thumb  the  Great". 

This  tragedy,  acted  in  1730  and  altered  in  1731, 
is  supposed  to  be  written  by  H.  Scriblerus  Secundus 
whose  annotations  to  the  play  are  of  great  literary 
interest.  Fielding  has  never  written  a  better  satire 
on  the  ^hoity-toity  tone  of  the  tragedy  of  that  day", 
as  Lawrence  says  in  his  biography  (p.  35).  It  may  be 
considered  a  worthy  continuation  of  Buckingham's 
„ Rehearsal"  (1671),  being  directed  as  well  against  Dry- 
den's  later  productions  (still  more  French  than  his  earlier 
ones)  as  its  numerous  imitations  by  different  authors. 
Even  at  the  time  of  Fielding  Dryden's  style  was  still 
admired  by  many  and  we  perfectly  understand  that 
Fielding  wished  to  have  done  with  this  so-called  clas- 
sical style  of  a  very  doubtful  merit. 

As  we  may  guess  by  the  annotations  annexed  to 
the  play,  the  most  important  tragedies  aimed  at  are: 


—     53     — 

Banks:  Earl  of  Essex,  Cyrus  the  Great,  Mary- 
Queen  of  Scots,  Anna  Bullen,  Virtue  betrayed. 

Dennis:  Liberty  asserted. 

Dryden :  State  of  Innocence,  Don  Sebastian,  Aureng^ 
zebe,  Cleomenes,  Duke  of  Guise,  Conquest  of  Granada, 
Albion,  King  Arthur,  Indian  Emperor,  All  for  love. 
Love  triumphant. 

Johnson :  Victim. 

Lee :  Sophonisbe,  Lucius  Junius  Brutus,  Gloriana, 
Mithridates,  Caesar  Borgia,  Nero,  Duke  of  Guise. 

Otv^ay:  Marius,  Don  Carlos. 

Rowe:  Bajazet. 

Tate:  Injured  love. 

Young :  Busiris,  Revenge. 

The  principal  characters  of  „The  Tragedy  of 
Tragedies"  are  properly  described  in  the  dramatis  per- 
sonae:  Tom  Thumb  the  Great,  a  little  hero  with  a 
great  soul,  something  violent  in  his  temper  which  is 
a  little  abated  by  his  love  for  Huncamunca ;  Princess 
Huncamunca,  daughter  to  their  majesties  King  Arthur 
and  Queen  Dollallolla,  of  a  very  sweet,  gentle  and 
amorous  disposition,  equally  in  love  with  Lord  Grizzle 
and  Tom  Thumb,  and  desirous  to  be  married  to  them  both. 

The  spring  of  all  this  is  the  love  of  Tom  Thumb 
for  Huncamunca  which  caused  the  quarrel  between 
their  majesties  in  the  first  act,  the  passion  of  Lord 
Grizzle  in  the  second  act,  the  rebellion,  fall  of  Lord 
Grizzle  and  Glumdalca,  devouring  of  Tom  Thumb  by 
the  cow  and  the  bloody  catastrophe  in  the  third  act. 

Aristotle,  according  to  Dryden,  defines  tragedy  to 
be  the  imitation  of  a  short  but  perfect  action,  con- 
taining a  just  greatness  in  itself.  Scriblerus  secundus 
however  tells   us  that  the  greatest  perfection    of  the 


—     54     - 

language  of  a  tragedy  is  that  it  is  not  to  be  under- 
stood; which  granted,  it  will  necessarily  follow  that 
the  only  way  to  avoid  this  is  by  being  too  high  or 
too  low  for  the  understanding.  What  can  be,  he  con- 
tinues, so  proper  for  tragedy  as  a  set  of  big  sounding 
words,  so  contrived  together  as  to  convey  no  meaning  ? 

Fielding  succeeds  to  ridicule  the  authors  by  imi- 
tating them  ironically.  I  don't  think  that  the  great 
public  so  easily  understood  what  he  really  meant  — 
many  of  his  contemporaries  actually  believed  in  his 
extravagancies. 

The  catastrophe  of  the  tragedy  (act  III,  scene  10) 
is  a  fine  parody  of  Dryden's  "Cleomenes".    In  „Cleo- 
menes"   the   curtain   covers  five   principal    characters 
dead  on  the  stage;  in  ''Tom  Thumb"  there  is  a  general 
slaughter,  all  actors  killing  one  another,  the  king,  as 
the  last,  killing  himself  with  the  words: 
**So  when  the  child  whom  nurse  from  danger  guards. 
Sends  Jack  for  mustard  with  a  pack  of  cards, 
Kings,  queens,  and  knaves,  throw  one  another  down, 
Till  the  whole  pack  lies  scatter'd  and  o'erthrown; 
So  all  our  pack  upon  the  floor  is  cast, 
And  all  I  boast  is  —  that  I  fall  the  last." 

To  Dryden's  statement  ("Essay  on  dramatic  po- 
etry**): ....  "Our  countrymen  will  scarcely  suffer 
combats  and  other  objects  of  horror  to  be  taken  from 
them**  Fielding  remarks  sarcastically:  ....  "Nor 
do  I  believe  our  victories  over  the  French  have  been 
owing  to  anything  more  than  to  those  bloody  spec- 
tacles daily  exhibited  in  our  tragedies,  of  which  the 
French  stage  is  so  entirely  clear"  (Scriblerus  Secun- 
dus^  annotations). 


—     55     — 

Fielding  not  only  satirizes  the  contents  but 
also  the  form  of  the  heroic  tragedies,  so  when  he 
wants  to  ridicule  the  alliterations  too  often  used  by 
those  tragedians: 

Act  I,  scene  6: 
"I'll  rave,  I'll  rant,  I'll  rise,   I'll  rush,  I'll  roar*' 

Act  II,  scene  7 : 

"Tempests  and  whirlwinds  rise,  and  roll  and  roar". 

The   similes,    m    imitation    of    the   ancients,    are 

remarkable  by  their  humour.     Act  I,  scene  2  affords 

a  very  good   example,  the   king   inquiring  about  the 

queen's  melancholy: 

"Whence  flow  those  tears  fast  down  thy  blubber'd 

[cheeks 
Like  a  swoln  gutter,  gushing  through  the  streets?" 
or  in  act  I,    scene  3,    where   Glumdalca  laments  the 
loss  of  her  twenty  husbands: 
"My  worn  out  heart 

That  ship,  leaks  fast,  and  the  great  heavy  lading, 

My  soul,  will  quickly  sink". 

A  parody    of   ghosts   as   they   frequently   occur 

with  Dryden   and  his  followers,    is  act  III,    scene  1, 

the  ghost  of  Tom  Thumb's  father  appearing  to  King 

Arthur : 

"Hail!   ye  black  horrors  of  midnight's  midnoon! 
Ye  fairies,  goblins,  bats,  and  screech-owls,  hail! 
And  oh !  ye  mortal  watchmen,  whose  hoarse  throats 
Th*  immortal  ghosts  dread  croakings  counterfeit, 
All  hail!  —  Ye  dancing  phantoms,  who,  by  day 
Are  some  condemn'd  to  fast,  some  feast  in  fire, 
Now  play  in  churchyards,  skipping  o'er  the  graves, 
To  the  loud  music  of  the  silent  bell. 
All  hail!" 


—     56     — 

Fielding's  "Tom  Thumb",  certainly  one  of  his  best 
dramas,  was  a  great  success,  the  play  being  acted 
forty  nights  without  interruption.  Walter  Scott  asserts 
that  still  at  his  time  "Tom  Thumb"  was  read  with 
delight  and  even  Lawrence  states  that  in  1855,  more 
than  hundred  years  after  the  play  had  been  written, 
"The  Tragedy  of  Tragedies"  still  kept  possession  of 
the  stage. 

Fielding's  plays  are  of  a  real  historical  interest, 
as  they  reproduce,  as  well  as  his  novels,  the  conditions 
of  the  different  classes  of  society  in  the  first  half 
of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Fielding  deserves  well  of  his  country,  as  he  was 
one  of  the  first  to  ridicule  the  stupid  imitation  of 
French  manners  and  customs  in  England,  at  a  time 
when  French  vice  and  superficiality  were  spreading 
all  over  the  United  Kingdom.  He  not  only  repu- 
diated foreign  vices  but  fought  energetically  against 
all  sorts  of  evil  inclinations  likely  to  delay  the  deve- 
lopment of  national  English  life.  Not  the  secret 
toleration  of  these  evils  seemed  to  him  true  patri- 
otism, but  the  open  war  against  everything  that  was 
vile  and  mean.  Many  prologues  and  epilogues  to  his 
plays  contain  passages  entreating  his  fellow-coun- 
trymen to  return  to  plain  English  life  and  to  look  to 
their  own  heroes  as  the  worthiest  and  best.  So  he 
says  in  the  epilogue  to  "Pasquin" : 

•Can  the  whole  world  in  science  match  our  soil? 

Have  they  a  Locke,  a  Newton  or  a  Boyle? 

Or  dare  the  greatest  genius  of  their  stage 

With  Shakespeare  or  immortal  Ben  engage?" 
Fielding's  plays  had   but  temporary  success,  be- 
cause they  had  been  written  only  for  his  time   and 


-      57     - 

his  contemporaries.  As  far  as  he  could  do  it  without 
giving  offence  to  his  moral  sense,  Fielding  followed 
the  taste  of  his  time.  Of  course,  if  he  had  acted  other- 
wise, he  would  have  lost  his  favour  with  the  public, 
and  his  constant  efforts  to  instruct  and  elevate  the 
masses  would  have  been  all  in  vain  He  often  com- 
plains of  the  preference  given  to  the  Italian  opera,  so 
in  his  epilogue  to  the  "The  Intriguing  Chamber-Maid**, 
where  he  says : 

** English  is  now  below  this  learned  town 
None  but  Italian  warblers  will  go  down 
Though  courts  were  more  polite,  the  English  ditty 
Could  heretofore  content  the  city : 
That  for  Italian  now  has  let  us  drop 
And  Dimi  Cara  rings  through  every  shop 
What  glorious  thoughts  must  all  our  neighbours 

[nourish 
Of  us,  where  rival  operas  can  flourish." 
Another  protest  against  this  kind  of  entertain- 
ments was  his  farce  *-Tumble  Down  Dick."  The  stage- 
writer  of  those  days  was  a  knave  to  the  public  opi- 
nion; to  please  the  public,  he  had  to  write  prologues 
and  epilogues  to  each  of  his  plays.  It  was  no  use 
protesting  against  this  custom  of  the  Restoration -period: 
Fielding  had  to  comply  with  if  he  wanted  to  live  on 
the  stage.  But  his  prologues  and  epilogues,  as  well 
as  his  dedications  are  no  disguised  adulations  so  com- 
mon in  those  days,  but  moderate  and  worthy  addresses 
to  the  public,  his  friends  and  protectors. 

If  our  poet  sometimes  goes  too  far  in  making 
concessions  to  public  taste,  he  never  forgets  his  higher 
design  to  show  his  contemporaries  a  mirror  of  their 
vices.    This  ranges  Fielding  high  above  all  his  fellow- 


—     58     - 

playwriters ;  going  through  his  comedies  we  soon  dis- 
cover that  with  regard  to  morals  and  esthetics  he  far 
surpasses  Wycherley  and  Congreve,  his  masters  of  old. 
In  this  noble  design  he  was  the  true  follower  of 
Moli^re.  Like  the  immortal  author  of  "Tartuffe"  he 
^'scoffed  at  vice  and  laughed  its  crimes  away"  to  show 
his  countrymen  the  true  path  of  humanity  and  to  pre- 
pare the  way  to  new  ideals,  to  a  higher  standard  of  life. 


Zum  Schlusse  spreche  ich 

Herrn  Professor  Dr.  MtTLLER-HESS 

fUr  sein  freundliches  Entgegenkommen  bei  AusfUhrung 
dieser  Arbeit  meinen  warmsten  Dank  aus. 


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