Venice Preserved was written and acted in 1682, when the terrors of the alleged Popish Plot had nearly subsided, and probably receives its second title from that atrocious and equivocal scare. It is founded on the historical novel of Saint-Réal, _Conjuration des Espagnols contre la Venise en 1618_, though Sir Henry Wotton, who was our ambassador to Venice at the time, calls it a French conspiracy. The whole thing was kept as dark as possible by the Republic, and its exact character is not easy to determine. Mr. Horatio Brown, however, by original researches in the Venetian archives, has thrown much light upon it in his recent charming volume of _Venetian Sketches_. Needy French adventurers, like Pierre and Renault, appear to have inflamed the ambition of Spanish grandees, like Osorio, Viceroy of Naples, and Bedamar, the ambassador at Venice, to compass the ruin of the Republic by taking advantage of gross internal corruption, the glaring contrast between social luxury and poverty, and consequent political discontent. But it was a rat-like hole-and-corner plot, as devoid of civic virtue or dignity, as any Rye House plot of Otway's time, or any American-Irish assassination club of our own. The last time the play was performed without the omission of the comic scenes, in which Antonio so degradingly figures, was at the special command of George II.; but they were condemned by the audience in spite of royal influence. The satire upon Shaftesbury, designed in the character of Antonio, is said to have been introduced at the instigation of Charles II. (Derrick, _Dramatic Censor_, p. 2). In the prologue to the play, Shaftesbury's ambition to be elected King of Poland, which procured for him the nick-name of "Count Tapsky," and was ridiculed by Dryden in _The Medal_, is openly referred to. Antonio's name and age also correspond to those of Shaftesbury. But the parody of his style of speaking is poor. The audience on the occasion just referred to bestowed vehement applause on Leigh and Mrs. Currer, who acted the parts of Antonio and Aquilina. So fond were people of buffoonery in those days that, according to Davies (_Dramatic Miscellany_), when Pierre, defying the conspirators (Act III.), exclaims--"Thou die! Thou kill my friend! or thou, or thou, or thou with that lean, withered, wretched face!"--an actor, selected for the purpose, of a most unfortunate figure and meagre visage, presented himself, and converted this fine passage into burlesque.