This accident, however fatal to Mr. Betterton’s fortune, yet proved not so to his peace, for he bore it without murmur, and even without mention; so far from entertaining resentment against his friend in the city, who doubtless meant him well, he continued his intimacy till his death, and after his decease took his only daughter under his protection, and watched over her education till she thought proper to dispose of herself in marriage to Mr. Bowman the player, whose behaviour was such, as to gain the esteem of all that knew him; he has not been many years dead, and reflected credit on the reports of the excellency of the old stage.

Such the virtue, such the honour of Mr. Betterton! who in his private character was as amiable as any he borrowed from the poets, and therefore was always deservedly considered as the head of the theatre, though vetted there with very little power.  The managers, as the companies were now united, exercised the mod despotic stage-tyranny; and obliged our author to remonstrate to them the hardships they inflicted on their actors, and represent that bad policy of the few, forgetting their obligations to the many.  This language in the ears of the theatrical ministry, sounded like treason; and therefore, instead of considering how to remedy the mischiefs complained of, they bent their thoughts to get rid of their monitor:  as if the not hearing of faults was equivalent to mending them.  It was with this view they began to give away some of Betterton’s first parts to young actors,[4] supposing this would abate his influence.  This policy ruined them, and assisted him:  The public resented their having plays ill acted when they knew they might have better.

The best players attached themselves wholly to Betterton, and desired him to turn his thoughts on some method of procuring himself and them justice.  Thus theatrical despotism produced its own definition, and the very steps taken to render Betterton desperate, pointed out the way for his deliverance.  Mr. Betterton, who had a general acquaintance with people of fashion, represented his case to them, and at last by the interposition of the earl of Dorset, a patent was granted him for building a new play-house in Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, which he effected by a subscription.  The patentees, in order to make head against them, got over to their party Mr. Williams, and Mrs. Mountford, both eminent players; they had also recruits from the country, but with all the art of which they were capable, they continued still unequal to Mr. Betterton’s company.  The new theatre was opened in 1695, with very great advantages:  Mr. Congreve accepted of a share with this company, as Mr. Dryden had formerly with the king’s; and the first play they acted was Congreve’s Comedy of Love for Love.  The king honoured it with his presence, there was a large and splendid audience, Mr. Betterton spoke a Prologue, and Mrs. Bracegirdle an Epilogue suited to the occasion, and it appeared by the reception they met with, that the town knew how to reward the merit of those the patentees used so ill.  But with all these vast advantages, Betterton’s company were not able to maintain this flow of prosperity, beyond two or three seasons:  Mr. Congreve was a slow writer, Vanbrugh, and Mr. Cibber, who wrote for the other house, were more expeditious; and if they did not finish, they at least writ pleasing Comedies.