Event Comment: TThe London Chronicle 1758 (p. 461): Having already read the play [The London Cuckolds] it was no wonder if my inclinations to attend the exhibition of it were very small; however, being in some measure oblig'd to perform that penance, I paid my money and sat down in the pit, where I underwent three hours entertainment, if I may call it so, only to be rooted in a former opinion, that the author of this comedy deserved to be hanged; and that the only excuse which could be made for suffering it to be acted would be invincible stupidity. This monstruous production of nonsense and obscenity, is the spawn of one Ravenscroft, a writer whose wit was as contemptible as his morals were vitious. He does not seem to have had one sentiment either of a man of Genious of a gentleman, at least if we may judge by the characters he has daubed, which are a pack of reprobates of the lowest kind. Nor are the things which look like incidents in this play the produce of his own invention, but the squeezings from an extravagant novel of Scarron, and two or three ill-chosen fables of LaFontaine; of which ingredients he has contrived to mix up a sort of hog-wash, sweetened with a few luscious expressions and a large portion of the grossest lewdness, to the palates of swine, or what is the same thing, men like them; but which must be odious to, and nauseated by all people of delicate taste, or common modesty. The three gallants in this comedy, Townly, Ramble and Loveit, never make their appearance upon the stage but to talk bawdy, and that in terms very little different from the most vagabond inhabitants of Covent Garden, nor do they make their exit but with a professed intention to commit adultery with one woman or another, who walks off with him very contentedly for that purpose. I must here observe that adultery is committed no less than seven times during the five acts. [The play an insult to the London aldermen and their wives.] There were several men of distinction in the boxes at this play, and I think about eight ladies. What their inward feelings might be I know not; but if one might judge of their thoughts by the gravity of their looks, they were rather mortified than diverted. But of the women of the town, who as we suppose were unwilling to let slip so fair an opportunity of getting a supper and a bed-fellow, there were crowds both in the pit and green boxes...