I can understand that an author may dare much in a novel. It is a psychological study, akin to criticism or history, having almost equal license, because it contributes almost equally to explain the anatomy of the heart. It is quite necessary to expose moral diseases, especially when this is done to add to science, coldly, accurately, and in the fashion of a dissection. Such a book is by its nature abstruse; it must be read in the study, by lamp-light. But transport it to the stage, exaggerate the bedroom liberties, give them additional life by a few disreputable scenes, bestow bodily vigor upon them by the energetic action and words of the actresses; let the eyes and the senses be filled with them, not the eyes of an individual spectator, but of a thousand men and women mingled together in the pit, excited by the interest of the story, by the correctness of the literal imitation, by the glitter of the lights, by the noise of applause, by the contagion of impressions which run like a shudder through fiery and longing minds. That was the spectacle which Wycherley furnished, and which the court appreciated. Is it possible that a public, and a select public, could come and listen to such scenes? In "Love in a Wood," amidst the complications of nocturnal rendezvous, and violations effected or begun, we meet with a witling, named Dapperwit, who desires to sell his mistress Lucy to a fine gentleman of that age, Ranger. With what minuteness he bepraises her! He knocks at her door; the intended purchaser meantime, growing impatient, is treating him like a slave. The mother comes in, but wishing to sell Lucy herself and for her own advantage, scolds them and packs them off. Next appears an old puritanical usurer and hypocrite, named Gripe, who at first will not bargain: "_Mrs. Joyner._ You must send for something to entertain her with. ... Upon my life a groat! What will this purchase? _Gripe._ Two black pots of ale and a cake, at the cellar--Come, the wine has arsenic in't.... _Mrs. J._ A treat of a groat! I will not wag. _G._ Why don't you go? Here, take more money, and fetch what you will; take here, half-a-crown. _Mrs. J._ What will half-a-crown do? _G._ Take a crown then, an angel, a piece;--begone! _Mrs. J._ A treat only will not serve my turn; I must buy the poor wretch there some toys. _G._ What toys? what? speak quickly. _Mrs. J._ Pendants, necklaces, fans, ribbons, points, laces, stockings, gloves.... _G._ But here, take half a piece for the other things. _Mrs. J._ Half a piece!-- _G._ Prithee, begone!--take t'other piece then--two pieces--three pieces--five! here; 'tis all I have. _Mrs. J._ I must have the broad-seal ring too, or I stir not."[267]