THE

TATLER.

N° 51. SATURDAY, AUGUST 6, 1709.

nostri est farrago libelli.

Quicquid agunt homines

JUV. Sat. i. 85, 86.

Whatever good is done, whatever ill

By human kind, shall this collection fill.

White's Chocolate-house, August 5.

THE HISTORY OF ORLANDO THE FAIR. CHAP. II'.

FORTUNE being now propitious to the gay Orlando, he dressed, he spoke, he moved as a man might be supposed to do in a nation of pygmies, and had an equal value for our approbation or dislike. It is usual for those who profess a contempt for the world, to fly from it and live in obscurity; but Orlando, with a greater magnanimity, contemned it, and appeared in it, to tell them so. If, therefore, his exalted mien met with an unwelcome reception, he was sure always to double the cause which gave the

1 See N° 50.

distaste. You see our beauties affect a negligence in the ornament of their hair, and adjusting their headdresses, as conscious that they adorn whatever they wear. Orlando had not only this humour in common with other beauties, but also had a neglect whether things became him or not, in a world he contemned. For this reason, a noble particularity appeared in all his œconomy, furniture, and equipage. And, to convince the present little race how unequal all their measures were to an antediluvian as he called himself, in respect of the insects which now appear for men, he sometimes rode in an open tumbrel, of less size than ordinary, to show the largeness of his limbs and the grandeur of his personage to the greater advantage 2. At other seasons, all his appointments had a magnificence, as if it were formed by the genius of Trimalchio of old, which shewed itself in doing ordinary things, with an air of pomp and grandeur. Orlando therefore called for tea by beat of drum; his valet got ready to shave him by a trumpet to horse; and water was brought for his teeth, when the sound was changed to boots and saddle.

In all these glorious excesses from the common practice, did the happy Orlando live and reign in an uninterrupted tranquillity, until an unlucky accident brought to his remembrance, that one evening he was married before he courted the nuptials of Villaria3. Several fatal memorandums were produced to revive

* Fielding's dress was always extraordinary, and the liveries of his footmen were equally fantastical; they generally wore yellow coats, with black feathers in their hats, and black sashes.

3 Barbara Villiers, daughter and heiress of William Villiers, lord viscount Grandison in the kingdom of Ireland (who died of the wounds he received at the battle of Edge

the memory of this accident; and the unhappy lover was for ever banished her presence, to whom he owed the support of his just renown and gallantry. But distress does not debase noble minds; it only changes the scene, and gives them new glory by that alteration. Orlando therefore now raves in a garret, and calls to his neighbour-skies to pity his dolours, and to find redress for an unhappy lover. All high spirits, in any great agitation of mind, are inclined to relieve themselves by poetry: the renowned porter of Oliver had not more volumes around his cell in his college of Bedlam, than Orlando in his present apartment. And, though inserting poetry in the midst of prose be thought a licence among correct writers not to be indulged, it is hoped the necessity of doing it, to give a just idea of the hero of whom we treat, will plead for the liberty we shall hereafter take, to print Orlando's soliloquies in verse and prose, after the manner of great wits, and such as those to whom they are nearly allied.

Will's Coffee-house, August 5.

A GOOD Company of us were this day to see, or rather to hear, an artful person do several feats of activity with his throat and windpipe. The first thing

hill, in 1642). Her portrait, in the figure of Pallas, may be seen in the gallery of beauties at Windsor. She was born in or about the year 1642, and died Oct. 9, 1709.

4 Cromwell's porter is said to have been the original from which Caius Gabriel (father of Colley Cibber copied one of the lunatic figures on Bedlam gate. His christian name was Daniel; he was many years in Bedlam; and when his cure was despaired of, he was allowed the use of his library, in which the most conspicuous book was a large bible given to him by Nell Gwynn.

wherewith he presented us, was a ring of bells, which he imitated in a most miraculous manner; after that, he gave us all the different notes of a pack of hounds, to our great delight and astonishment. The company expressed their applause with much noise; and never was heard such a harmony of men and dogs 5 : 5: but a certain plump merry fellow, from an angle of the room, fell a crowing like a cock so ingeniously, that he won our hearts from the other operator in an instant. As soon as I saw him, I recollected I had seen him on the stage, and immediately knew it to be Tom Mirrour, the comical actor. He immediately addressed himself to me, and told me, he was surprised to see a virtuoso take satisfaction in any representations below that of human life; and asked ne, whether I thought this acting bells and dogs was to be considered under the notion of wit, humour, or satire? Were it not better,' continued he, to have some particular picture of man laid before your eyes, that might incite your laughter? He had no sooner spoke the word, but he immediately quitted his natural shape, and talked to me in a very different air and tone from what he had used before: upon which, all that sat near us laughed; but I saw no distortion in his countenance, or any thing that appeared to me disagreeable. I asked Pacolet, what meant that sudden whisper about us? for I could not take the jest. He answered, 'The gentleman you were talk

5 A Mr. Clench, of Barnet, diverted the town with such feats as are here mentioned, imitating a drunken man, an old woman, dogs quarrelling, &c.

6 Richard Estcourt, a comedian celebrated for his great mimic powers, and convivial talents. See Spect. No 358 and 467.

ing to assumed your air and countenance so exactly, that all fell a-laughing to see how little you knew yourself, and how much you were enamoured with your own image. But that person,' continued my monitor, if men would make the right use of him, might be as instrumental to their reforming errors in gesture, language, and speech, as a dancing-master, linguist, or orator. You see he laid yourself before you with so much address, that you saw nothing particular in his behaviour: he has so happy a knack of representing errors and imperfections, that you can bear your faults in him as well as in yourself: he is the first mimic that ever gave the beauties, as well as the deformities, of the man he acted. What Mr. Dryden said of a very great man, may be well applied to him:

He seems to be

Not one, but all mankind's epitome.'

You are to know, that this pantomime may be said to be a species of himself: he has no commerce with the rest of mankind, but as they are the objects of imitation; like the Indian fowl, called the Mockbird, who has no note of his own, but hits every sound in the wood as soon as he hears it; so that Mirrour is at once a copy and an original. Poor Mirrour's fate, as well as talent, is like that of the bird we just now spoke of; the nightingale, the linnet, the lark, are delighted with his company; but the buzzard, the crow, and the owl, are observed to be his mortal enemies. Whenever Sophronius meets Mirrour, he receives him with civility and respect, and well knows a good copy of himself can be no injury to him; but Bathillus shuns the street where he expects to meet him; for he, that knows his every step