“The Archbishop could easily get another chaplain, sir, but whither
could the stage look for another Garrick?” said Goldsmith.
“Psha! Sir, the puppets which we saw last week in Panton street
delighted the town more than ever Mr. Garrick did,” cried Johnson; and
when he perceived that Garrick coloured at this sally of his, he lay
back in his chair and roared with laughter.
Reynolds took snuff.
“Dr. Goldsmith said he could act as adroitly as the best of the
puppets--I heard him myself,” said Boswell.
“That was only his vain boasting which you have so frequently noted with
that acuteness of observation that makes you the envy of our circle,”
said Burke. “You understand the Irish temperament perfectly, Mr.
Boswell. But to resort to the original point raised by Goldsmith;
surely, Dr. Johnson, you will allow that an actor of genius is at least
on a level with a musician of genius.”
“Sir, I will allow that he is on a level with a fiddler, if that will
satisfy you,” replied Johnson.
“Surely, sir, you must allow that Mr. Garrick's art is superior to that
of Signor Piozzi, whom we heard play at Dr. Burney's,” said Burke.
“Yes, sir; David Garrick has the good luck to be an Englishman, and
Piozzi the ill luck to be an Italian,” replied Johnson. “Sir, 't is no
use affecting to maintain that you regard acting as on a level with the
arts. I will not put an affront upon your intelligence by supposing that
you actually believe what your words would imply.”
“You can take your choice, Mr. Burke,” said Goldsmith: “whether you will
have the affront put upon your intelligence or your sincerity.”
“I am sorry that I am compelled to leave the company for a space,
just as there seems to be some chance of the argument becoming really
interesting to me personally,” said Garrick, rising; “but the fact is
that I rashly made an engagement for this hour. I shall be gone for
perhaps twenty minutes, and meantime you may be able to come to some
agreement on a matter which, I repeat, is one of vital importance to Mr.
Burke and myself; and so, sirs, farewell for the present.”
He gave one of those bows of his, to witness which was a liberal
education in the days when grace was an art, and left the room.
“If Mr. Garrick's bow does not prove my point, no argument that I
can bring forward will produce any impression upon you, sir,” said
Goldsmith.
“The dog is well enough,” said Johnson; “but he has need to be kept in
his place, and I believe that there is no one whose attempts to keep him
in his place he will tolerate as he does mine.”
“And what do you suppose is Mr. Garrick's place, sir?” asked Goldsmith.
“Do you believe that if we were all to stand on one another's shoulders,
as certain acrobats do, with Garrick on the shoulder of the topmost man,
we should succeed in keeping him in his proper place?”
“Sir,” said Dr. Johnson, “your question is as ridiculous as anything you
have said to-night, and to say so much, sir, is, let me tell you, to say
a good deal.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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