that "private vices are public benefits," I cannot pretend to say. La Font. The case is this: he thinks he sufficiently discharges his duty in enforcing the laws: but it is an undoubted truth, that good government consists not in the punishing of crimes with severity, but in using the most effectual means for the preventing them:-a truth, which is set forth and maintained with considerable ability by the Abbé Beccaria, in his truly valuable publication, entitled Dei dilletti e delle pene. But to return to the theatre. It is by no means sufficient that we are amused within its walls. It is a place to which we should occasionally repair for instruction. In fine, the stage was originally intended to be a school of morality, whereas it is now a nursery for folly, foppery, and vice. Scar. Dramatic writers will tell you, however, that, in exhibiting the folly and foppery you are speaking of, they render it generally odious and detested. La Font. It is impossible that such should be the effect of their labours. You must surely have observed, that the fine gentleman of the comedy, the seducer and betrayer of innocence, is always the favourite and predominant character. After having run the race of licentiousness and passion, after peace and good order of families, savages, he would suffer death, is too often dismissed to happiness, and with the most amiable woman that can be found. having disturbed the and for which, among you will find, that he Scar. A gross and unpardonable fault. It is from attending such representations that many females have thrown themselves into the arms of the libertine and debauchee. It is in theatres that they have learned the absurd and pernicious maxim, that "the best husband is to be expected in the reformed rake." La Font. A truly pernicious maxim, indeed! yet a favourite one with many of the fair sex. * See Mandeville's Fable of the Bees. Scar. It is: and, till wholly discarded from comedies and romances, it will undoubtedly continue. La Font. The reform should begin in the theatre. This, you may remember, has been attempted. But, when a moral performance has made its appearance, the beaux esprits, by ridiculing it, under the denomination of comédie larmoyante, have presently driven it from the stage. Scar. Wit and humour are powerful weapons. A stroke of pleasantry has frequently occasioned the failure of a play. "La reine boit!" you may remember, contributed more towards the downfall of Voltaire's Mariamne,* than all the criticisms which were written on it. La Font. Alas! how uncertain and fleeting is the reputation of the man of letters— A breath destroys him, as a breath had rais'd! Scar. And yet how very many are catching at the "bubble reputation;" a bubble which, perhaps, vanishes in the very moment that each one thinks he holds it securely in his grasp. La Font. True :-though it is not always reputation alone that the candidate in question has in view. He, of whom it may be said, Vivit siliquis et pane secundo, looks for something more than empty praise. Scar. Yes, wealth would, no doubt, be equally acceptable to him. La Font. Not, however, unless it can be procured with honour to himself: for miserum est alienâ vivere quadra. To such a situation the man of spirit will never submit. "L'auteur faisait mourir Mariamne par le poison: et on le lui donnait sur le théâtre. C'était vers le temps des rois que la pièce fut jouée. Un petit maître dans le parterre, voyant donner la coupe empoisonné à cette princesse, s'avisa de crier: 'La reine boit.' Tous les François se mirent à rire, et la pièce ne fut point achevée."-ADV. TO MARIAMNE. Scar. In that you are mistaken: it is a situation to which the man of spirit is frequently obliged to stoop. ""Tis not in mortals to command success." Bending beneath the weight of miseries, reduced to actual want, how then would you have him act? La Font." Qu'il meurt!"* Scar. To such a sentiment I have nothing to oppose. Most willingly then do I repeat it-Let him die! * DIALOGUE IX. SCENE-A CHAMBER. MERCURY and AN OLD MAN. Old Man. You have certainly made a mistake. Your business can never be with me. Merc. Not the smallest mistake. think, is Senex. Old Man. The same. to the other world? Merc. Such is my order. Your name, I But summoned, do you say, Old Man. That is, you come to give me notice, I suppose. Well, well, in about twenty years I shall be ready for you. Merc. Twenty years! you must make ready now. I can no longer wait for you. Pluto will be displeased at the stay I have already made. Old Man. Aye, but if Pluto knew my age, I am sure he would spare me for a little time. Merc. What, I pray you, is your age? Old Man. Only ninety, good Sir. It is very hard at the age of ninety-(Aside,) I have sunk half a dozen years upon him, but he will scarcely find me out. See the Horace of P. Corneille. Merc. Only ninety! death is then a terrible stroke, indeed. But who is this blooming creature, who approaches us with so gay an air? Old Man. That blooming creature is my wife. Merc. Your wife! assuredly she will be happy to find herself a widow. Old Man. Oh, no! a very different character. She is the softest, tenderest-But let her not know your office; she will run distracted at the thought of losing me. Merc. Ha ha! ha! why she has been preparing a dose of poison, with an intention of administering it to you in your evening potation. Old Man. O the Jezebel, the Jezebel! Why- As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. Merc. But, pray, how old is your wife, venerable gentleman ? Old Man. But little more than eighteen. Merc. A charming age, indeed! Pray introduce me to her. Old Man. With all my heart, 'faith. (Aside,) I like the motion well: he may be induced to take Lucretia instead of me.-She is accounted a very great beauty, I assure you, and the finest temper in the world. Egad, I begin to think I shall be able to puff her off. Enter WIFE. Wife. Ah, my dear husband! come Your loving wife is Old Man. (aside.) Oh, traitress! come not near me. Wife. But who is this gentleman? fellow, as I live! What a figure is there! A charming An eye like Jove, to threaten and command,' A station like the herald Mercury! Merc. A goddess, sure! Do my eyes deceive me? Is it Venus I see, or— Wife. O, dear sir Old Man. Egad, he begins to make doux yeux at her. What a lucky dog am I! Merc. My father, Jupiter, never won a fairer creature. Prithee, Mr. Senex, how came you possessed of so rich a prize? Old Man. Love, Sir, love. great. Her love was so very Merc. Love! why do you suppose it possible that she could have any affection for you? Old Man. For my money, I am very sure she had. Her love of show and grandeur I always knew; and, before you mentioned the poisoning business, I really imagined she had a regard for myself alone. Merc. But did reason never come to your aid? Old Man. She would obtrude herself upon me at times; but then I always discarded her as a troublesome guest. Merc. And could you be content to live, if deprived of the society of your lovely wife ? Old Man. I could wish to mourn for Lucretia a little, just to show the world how very sincerely I regret the loss of her. Merc. Well, then, we must spare you for a little time, since you are so very desirous of it. Old Man. Thanks, many thanks, to you. Well, the world may say what it will, but there is an advantage in having a handsome wife. >5 (-99) |