Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III), Samuel Johnson [good summer reads .TXT] 📗

marcia'S Left Behind.'

 

 

 

"Well! But Though He Tells Us The Half-Purpose That He Has Failed of, He

Does Not Tell Us The Half That He Has Carried. But What Does He Mean By,

 

 

 

  'Marcia, The Charming marcia'S Left Behind?'

 

 

 

He Is Now In her Own House; And We Have Neither Seen Her, Nor Heard Of

Her, Any Where Else Since The Play Began. But Now Let Us Hear Syphax:

 

 

 

  'What Hinders Then, But That Thou Find Her Out,

  And Hurry Her Away By Manly Force?'

 

 

 

But What Does Old Syphax Mean By Finding her Out? They Talk As If She

Were As Hard To Be Found As A Hare In a Frosty Morning.

 

 

 

  '_Semp_. But How To Gain Admission?'

 

 

 

Oh! She Is Found Out Then, It Seems--

 

 

 

  But How To Gain Admission! For Access

  Is Giv'N To None, But Juba And Her Brothers.'

 

 

 

But, Raillery Apart, Why Access To Juba? For He Was Owned and Received

As A Lover Neither By The Father Nor By The Daughter. Well! But Let

That Pass. Syphax Puts Sempronius Out Of Pain Immediately; And, Being

A Numidian, Abounding in wiles, Supplies Him With A Stratagem For

Admission, That, I Believe, Is A Non-Pareille.

 

 

 

  '_Syph_. Thou Shalt Have Juba'S Dress, And Juba'S Guards;

  The Doors Will Open When Numidia'S Prince

  Seems To Appear Before Them.'

 

 

 

"Sempronius Is, It Seems, To Pass For Juba In full Day At Cato'S House,

Where They Were Both So Very Well Known, By Having juba'S Dress And His

Guards: As If One Of The Marshals Of France Could Pass For The Duke Of

Bavaria, At Noonday, At Versailles, By Having his Dress And Liveries. But

How Does Syphax Pretend To Help Sempronius To Young Juba'S Dress? Does He

Serve Him In a Double Capacity, As General And Master Of His Wardrobe?

But Why Juba'S Guards? For The Devil Of Any Guards Has Juba Appeared with

Yet. Well! Though This Is A Mighty Politick Invention, Yet, Methinks,

They Might Have Done Without It: For, Since The Advice That Syphax Gave

To Sempronius Was,

 

 

 

  'To Hurry Her Away By Manly Force,'

 

 

 

In My Opinion, The Shortest And Likeliest Way Of Coming at The Lady

Was By Demolishing, Instead Of Putting on An Impertinent Disguise To

Circumvent Two Or Three Slaves. But Sempronius, It Seems, Is Of Another

Opinion. He Extols To The Skies The Invention Of Old Syphax:

 

 

 

  '_Semp_. Heav'Us! What A Thought Was There!'

 

 

 

"Now I Appeal To The Reader, If I Have Not Been As Good As My Word. Did I

Not Tell Him, That I Would Lay Before Him A Very Wise Scene?

 

 

 

"But Now Let Us Lay Before The Reader That Part Of The Scenery Of The

Fourth Act, Which May Show The Absurdities Which The Author Has Run

Into, Through The Indiscreet Observance Of The Unity Of Place. I Do Not

Remember That Aristotle Has Said Any Thing expressly Concerning the Unity

Of Place. 'Tis True, Implicitly He Has Said Enough In the Rules Which He

Has Laid Down For The Chorus. For, By Making the Chorus An Essential Part

Of Tragedy, And By Bringing it On The Stage Immediately After The Opening

Of The Scene, And Retaining it There Till The Very Catastrophe, He Has So

Determined and Fixed the Place Of Action, That It Was Impossible For An

Author On The Grecian Stage To Break Through That Unity. I Am Of Opinion,

That If A Modern Tragick Poet Can Preserve The Unity Of Place, Without

Destroying the Probability Of The Incidents, 'Tis Always Best For Him

To Do It; Because, By The Preservation Of That Unity, As We Have Taken

Notice Above, He Adds Grace, And Clearness, And Comeliness, To The

Representation. But Since There Are No Express Rules About It, And We Are

Under No Compulsion To Keep It, Since We Have No Chorus, As The Grecian

Poet Had; If It Cannot Be Preserved, Without Rendering the Greater

Part Of The Incidents Unreasonable And Absurd, And, Perhaps, Sometimes

Monstrous, 'Tis Certainly Better To Break It.

 

 

 

"Now Comes Bully Sempronius, Comically Accoutred and Equipped with His

Numidian Dress And His Numidian Guards. Let The Reader Attend To Him With

All His Ears; For The Words Of The Wise Are Precious:

 

 

 

  '_Semp_. The Deer Is Lodg'D, I'Ve Track'D Her To Her Covert.'

 

 

 

"Now I Would Fain Know Why This Deer Is Said To Be Lodged, Since We Have

Not Heard One Word, Since The Play Began, Of Her Being at All Out Of

Harbour; And If We Consider The Discourse With Which She And Lucia Begin

The Act, We Have Reason To Believe That They Had Hardly Been Talking

Of Such Matters In the Street. However, To Pleasure Sempronius, Let Us

Suppose, For Once, That The Deer Is Lodged:

 

 

 

  'The Deer Is Lodg'D, I'Ve Track'D Her To Her Covert.'

 

 

 

"If He Had Seen Her In the Open Field, What Occasion Had He To Track Her,

When He Had So Many Numidian Dogs At His Heels, Which, With One Halloo,

He Might Have Set Upon Her Haunches? If He Did Not See Her In the Open

Field, How Could He Possibly Track Her? If He Had Seen Her In the Street,

Why Did He Not Set Upon Her In the Street, Since Through The Street She

Must Be Carried at Last? Now Here, Instead Of Having his Thoughts Upon

His Business, And Upon The Present Danger; Instead Of Meditating and

Contriving how He Shall Pass With His Mistress Through The Southern Gate,

Where Her Brother Marcus Is Upon The Guard, And Where She Would Certainly

Prove An Impediment To Him, Which Is The Roman Word For The Baggage;

Instead Of Doing this, Sempronius Is Entertaining himself With Whimseys:

 

 

 

  '_Semp_. How Will The Young Numidian Rave To See

  His Mistress Lost! If Aught Could Glad My Soul,

  Beyond Th' Enjoyment Of So Bright A Prize,

  'Twould Be To Torture That Young Gay Barbarian.

  But Hark! What Noise? Death To My Hopes! 'Tis He,

  'Tis Juba'S Self! There Is But One Way Left!

  He Must Be Murder'D, And A Passage Cut

  Through Those His Guards.'

 

 

 

"Pray, What Are 'Those His Guards?' I Thought, At Present, That Juba'S

Guards Had Been Sempronius'S Tools, And Had Been Dangling after His

Heels.

 

 

 

"But Now Let Us Sum Up All These Absurdities Together. Sempronius Goes At

Noonday, In juba'S Clothes, And With Juba'S Guards, To Cato'S Palace,

In Order To Pass For Juba, In a Place Where They Were Both So Very Well

Known: He Meets Juba There, And Resolves To Murder Him With His Own

Guards. Upon The Guards Appearing a Little Bashful, He Threatens Them:

 

 

 

  'Hah! Dastards, Do You Tremble!

  Or Act Like Men; Or, By Yon Azure Heav'N!'--

 

 

 

But The Guards Still Remaining restive, Sempronius Himself Attacks Juba,

While Each Of The Guards Is Representing mr. Spectator'S Sign Of The

Gaper, Awed, It Seems, And Terrified by Sempronius'S Threats. Juba Kills

Sempronius, And Takes His Own Army Prisoners, And Carries Them In triumph

Away To Cato. Now, I Would Fain Know, If Any Part Of Mr. Bayes'S Tragedy

Is So Full Of Absurdity As This?

 

 

 

"Upon Hearing the Clash Of Swords, Lucia And Marcia Come In. The Question

Is, Why No Men Come In upon Hearing the Noise Of Swords In the Governor'S

Hall? Where Was The Governor Himself? Where Were His Guards? Where Were

His Servants? Such An Attempt As This, So Near The Person Of A Governor

Of A Place Of War, Was Enough To Alarm The Whole Garrison: And Yet, For

Almost Half An Hour After Sempronius Was Killed, We Find None Of Those

Appear, Who Were The Likeliest In the World To Be Alarmed; And The Noise

Of Swords Is Made To Draw Only Two Poor Women Thither, Who Were Most

Certain To Run Away From It. Upon Lucia And Marcia'S Coming in, Lucia

Appears In all The Symptoms Of An Hysterical Gentlewoman:

 

 

 

  '_Luc_. Sure 'Twas The Clash Of Swords! My Troubl'D Heart

  Is So Cast Down, And Sunk Amidst Its Sorrows,

  It Throbs With Fear, And Aches At Ev'Ry Sound!'

 

 

 

And Immediately Her Old Whimsey Returns Upon Her:

 

 

 

  'O Marcia, Should Thy Brothers, For My Sake--

  Die Away With Horrour At The Thought.'

 

 

 

She Fancies That There Can Be No Cutting of Throats, But It Must Be For

Her. If This Is Tragical, I Would Fain Know What Is Comical. Well! Upon

This They Spy The Body Of Sempronius; And Marcia, Deluded by The Habit,

It Seems, Takes Him For Juba; For Says She,

 

 

 

  'The Face Is Muffl'D Up Within The Garment.'

 

 

 

"Now, How A Man Could Fight, And Fall With His Face Muffled up In his

Garment, Is, I Think, A Little Hard To Conceive! Besides, Juba, Before He

Killed him, Knew Him To Be Sempronius. It Was Not By His Garment That He

Knew This; It Was By His Face Then; His Face, Therefore, Was Not Muffled.

Upon Seeing this Man With The Muffled face, Marcia Falls A Raving; And,

Owning her Passion For The Supposed defunct, Begins To Make His Funeral

Oration. Upon Which Juba Enters Listening, I Suppose On Tiptoe; For I

Cannot Imagine How Any One Can Enter Listening in any Other Posture. I

Would Fain Know How It Came To Pass, That During all This Time He Had

Sent Nobody, No, Not So Much As A Candle-Snuffer, To Take Away The Dead

Body Of Sempronius. Well! But Let Us Regard Him Listening. Having left

His Apprehension Behind Him, He, At First, Applies What Marcia Says To

Sempronius. But Finding at Last, With Much Ado, That He Himself Is The

Happy Man, He Quits His Eve-Dropping, And Discovers Himself Just Time

Enough To Prevent His Being cuckolded by A Dead Man, Of Whom The Moment

Before He Had Appeared so Jealous; And Greedily Intercepts The Bliss

Which Was Fondly Designed for One Who Could Not Be The Better For It. But

Here I Must Ask A Question: How Comes Juba To Listen Here, Who Had Not

Listened before Throughout The Play? Or How Comes He To Be The Only

Person Of This Tragedy Who Listens, When Love And Treason Were So Often

Talked in so Publick A Place As A Hall? I Am Afraid The Author Was Driven

Upon All These Absurdities Only To Introduce This Miserable Mistake Of

Marcia; Which, After All, Is Much Below The Dignity Of Tragedy, As Any

Thing is Which Is The Effect Or Result Of Trick.

 

 

 

"But Let Us Come To The Scenery Of The Fifth Act, Cato Appears First Upon

The Scene, Sitting in a Thoughtful Posture; In his Hand Plato'S Treatise

On The Immortality Of The Soul, A Drawn Sword On The Table By Him. Now

Let Us Consider The Place In which This Sight Is Presented to Us. The

Place, Forsooth, Is A Long Hall. Let Us Suppose, That Any One Should

Place Himself In this Posture, In the Midst Of One Of Our Halls In

London; That He Should Appear Solus, In a Sullen Posture, A Drawn Sword

On The Table By Him; In his Hand Plato'S Treatise On The Immortality Of

The Soul, Translated lately By Bernard Lintot: I Desire The Reader To

Consider, Whether Such A Person As This Would Pass, With Them Who Beheld

Him, For A Great Patriot, A Great Philosopher, Or A General, Or For Some

Whimsical Person Who Fancied himself All These? And Whether The People,

Who Belonged to The Family, Would Think That Such A Person Had A Design

Upon Their Midriffs Or His Own?

 

 

 

"In Short, That Cato Should Sit Long Enough, In the Aforesaid Posture,

In The Midst Of This Large Hall, To Read Over Plato'S Treatise On The

Immortality Of The Soul, Which Is A Lecture Of Two Long Hours; That He

Should Propose To Himself To Be Private There Upon That Occasion; That He

Should Be Angry With His Son For Intruding there; Then, That He Should

Leave This Hall Upon The Pretence Of Sleep, Give Himself The Mortal Wound

In His Bedchamber, And Then Be Brought Back Into That Hall To Expire,

Purely To Show His Good-Breeding, And Save His Friends The Trouble Of

Coming up To His Bedchamber; All This Appears To Me To Be Improbable,

Incredible, Impossible."

 

 

 

Such Is The Censure Of Dennis. There Is, As Dryden Expresses It, Perhaps

"Too Much Horseplay In his Raillery;" But If His Jests Are Coarse, His

Arguments Are Strong. Yet, As We Love Better To Be Pleased than To Be

Taught, Cato Is Read, And The Critick Is Neglected.

 

 

 

Flushed with Consciousness Of These Detections Of Absurdity In the

Conduct, He Afterwards Attacked the Sentiments Of Cato; But He Then

Amused himself With Petty Cavils, And Minute Objections.

 

 

 

Of Addison'S Smaller Poems, No Particular Mention Is Necessary; They Have

Little That Can Employ Or Require A Critick. The Parallel Of The Princes

And Gods, In his Verses To Kneller, Is Often Happy, But