Britons, attend: be worth like this approv'd, On French translation, and Italian song. 41 45 NOTES. Ver. 37. Britons, attend :] Spence told me that Pope had written it-"Britons, arise;" but that Addison, frightened at so strong an expression, as promoting insurrection, lowered and weakened it by the word, attend. Ver. 42. On French translation,] He glances obliquely at the Distrest Mother of his old antagonist Philips, taken, evidently, from Racine. Cato's last soliloquy is translated with great purity and elegance by Bland. It is a little remarkable that the last line of Cato is Pope's; and the last of Eloisa is Addison's. Ver. 45. Such Plays alone] Addison, having finished and laid by, for several years, the first four acts of Cato, applied to Hughes for a fifth; and Dr. Johnson, from entertaining too mean an opinion of Hughes, does not think the application serious. When Hughes brought his supplement, he found the author himself had finished his play. Hughes was very capable of writing this fifth act. The Siege of Damascus is a better tragedy than Cato; though Pope affected to speak slightingly of its author. An audience was packed by Steele on the first night of Cato; and Addison suffered inexpressible uneasiness and solicitude during the representation. Bolingbroke called Booth to his box, and gave him fifty guineas for defending the cause of liberty so well, against a perpetual dictator. Ver. 46. As Cato's self, &c.] This alludes to that famous story of his coming into the Theatre, and going out again, related by Martial. W. EPILOGUE ΤΟ MR. ROWE'S JANE SHORE. THE Epilogue to Jane Shore is written with that air of gallantry and raillery which, by a strange perversion of taste, the audience expects in all epilogues to the most serious and pathetic pieces. To recommend cukoldom, and palliate adultery, is their usual intent. I wonder Mrs. Oldfield was not suffered to speak it; for it is superior to that which was used on the occasion. In this taste Garrick has written some, that abound in spirit and drollery. Rowe's genius was rather delicate and soft, than strong and pathetic; his compositions soothe us with a tranquil and tender sort of complacency, rather than cleave the heart with pangs of commiseration. His distresses are entirely founded on the passion of love. His diction is extremely elegant and chaste, and his versification highly melodious. His plays are declamations, rather than dialogues; and his characters are general, and undistinguished from each other. Such a furious character as that of Bajazet, is easily drawn; and, let me add, easily acted. There is a want of unity in the fable of Tamerlane. The death's head, dead body, and stage hung in mourning, in the Fair Penitent, are artificial and mechanical methods of affecting an audience. In a word, his plays are musical and pleasing poems; but inactive and unmoving tragedies. This of Jane Shore is, I think, the most interesting and affecting of any he has given us but probability is sadly violated in it by the neglect of the unity of time. For a person to be supposed to be starved, during the representation of five acts, is a striking instance of the absurdity of this violation. It is probable that this is become the most popular and pleasing tragedy of all Rowe's works, because it is founded on our own history. I cannot forbear wishing, that our writers would more frequently search for subjects, in the annals of England, which T afford many striking and pathetic events, proper for the stage. We have been too long attached to Grecian and Roman stories. In truth, domestica facta are more interesting, as well as more useful; more interesting, because we all think ourselves concerned in the actions and fates of our countrymen; more useful, because the characters and manners bid the fairest to be true and natural, when they are drawn from models with which we are exactly acquainted. The Turks, the Persians, and Americans, of our poets, are, in reality, distinguished from Englishmen, only by their turbans and feathers; and think and act, as if they were born and educated within the Bills of Mortality. The historical plays of Shakspeare are always grateful to the spectator, who loves to see and hear our own Harrys and Edwards, better than all the Achilleses or Cæsars that ever existed. In the choice of a domestic story, however, much judgment and circumspection must be exerted, to select one of a proper era; neither of too ancient or too modern a date. The manners of times very ancient, we shall be apt to falsify, as those of the Greeks and Romans. And recent events, with which we are thoroughly acquainted, are deprived of the power of impressing solemnity and awe, by their notoriety and familiarity. Age softens and wears away all those disgracing and depreciating circumstances, which attend modern transactions, merely because they are modern. Lucan was much embarrassed by the proximity of the times he treated of. I take this occasion to observe, that Rowe has taken the fable of his Fair Penitent, from the Fatal Dowry of Massinger and Field. His very spirited translation, which does not seem sufficiently regarded, is perhaps his best work; and one of the best translations in our language, of the only classic, said Addison, not explained for the use of the Dauphin. 4 EPILOGUE ΤΟ MR. ROWE'S JANE SHORE. DESIGNED FOR MRS. OLDFIELD. PRODIGIOUS this! the Frail-one of our Play From her own Sex should mercy find to-day! You might have held the pretty head aside, Peep'd in your fans, been serious, thus, and cry'd, The Play may pass-but that strange creature, Shore, I can't-indeed now-I so hate a whoreJust as a blockhead rubs his thoughtless skull, And thanks his stars he was not born a fool; So from a sister-sinner you shall hear, 6 How strangely you expose yourself, my dear!" But let me die, all raillery apart, 11 Our sex are still forgiving at their heart; There are, 'tis true, who tell another tale, The godly dame, who fleshly failings damns, Scolds with her maid, or with her chaplain crams. 15 20 Would you enjoy soft nights and solid dinners? Faith, gallants, board with saints, and bed with sinners. 25 Well, if our Author in the Wife offends, He has a Husband that will make amends: He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving, And sure such kind good creatures may be living. In days of old they pardon'd breach of vows, Stern Cato's self was no relentless spouse: Plu-Plutarch, what's his name, that writes his life? Tells us, that Cato dearly lov'd his Wife: Yet if a friend, a night or so, should need her, He'd recommend her as a special breeder. 30 To lend a Wife, few here would scruple make, 35 45 NOTES. Ver. 44. Who ne'er saw] A sly and oblique stroke on the suicide of Cato; which was one of the reasons, as I have been informed, why this epilogue was not spoken. Ver. 46. Edward's Miss] Sir Thomas More says, she had one accomplishment uncommon in a woman of that time; she could read and write. |