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The tragedies of Sophocles : translated from the Greek. with notes historical, moral and critical ... to which is prefix'd, a preface; containing ... A defence of tragic poetry ...

George Adams · 1818 · Scanned text

126,735 words · about 8 h 53 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
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About this book

Author
George Adams
Language
English
Published
1818
Length
126,735 words · about 8 h 53 min
Sections
37 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain

 

Contents (37)
  1. Front matter about 1 min
  2. Preface about 40 min
  3. Act I about 13 min
  4. ACT II. SCENE I. Tecmessa, Chorus about 21 min
  5. ACT III. SCENE I. Ajax, Chorus about 5 min
  6. ACT IV. SCENE I. Messencrer, Chorus about 13 min
  7. ACT VI. SCENE VII. Menelaus, Teucrus, Choi us about 20 min
  8. ACT I. SCENE I. Tutor of Orestes, Orestes, Pylades about 26 min
  9. ACT II. SCENE I. Clytemnestra, Electra, Chorus about 18 min
  10. ACT III. SCENE I. Chrysothemis, Electra about 11 min
  11. ACT IV. SCENE I. Orestes, Py lades, Chorus, Electra about 16 min
  12. ACT V. SCENE I. Clytemnestra, JElectra, Chorus about 9 min
  13. Act I. Scene I about 12 min
  14. ACT II. SCENE I. Oedipus, Chorus, Attendants about 16 min
  15. ACT III. SCENE I. Cieon, Chorus, Attendants about 19 min
  16. ACT IV. SCENE I. Jocasta, Chorus, Attendants about 16 min
  17. Act V. Scene I about 17 min
  18. ACT I. SCENE I. Antiooiie and Ismene about 8 min
  19. ACT II. SCENE I. Creon, Chorus about 20 min
  20. ACT III. SCENE I. Creon, H(jBmon, Chorus about 15 min
  21. ACT IV. SCENE I. Tiresias led hy a Boy, Creon, Chorus about 9 min
  22. ACT V. SCENE I. Messenger, Chorus about 11 min
  23. ACT I. SCENE I. Oedipus, and Antigone leading him about 35 min
  24. ACT II. SCENE I. Antigone, Oedipus, Chorus about 17 min
  25. ACT III. SCENE II. Antigone, Ismene, Theseus, Oedipus, Chorus about 6 min
  26. ACT IV. SCENE I. Antigone, Oedipus about 10 min
  27. ACT V. SCENE I. Theseus, Oedipus, Chorus about 13 min
  28. ACT I. SCENE I. Deianira, Tutoress, Hyllus about 11 min
  29. ACT II. SCENE I. Deianira, Chorus about 13 min
  30. ACT III. SCENE I. Deianira, Chorus about 5 min
  31. ACT IV. SCENE I. Deianira, CJiorus about 8 min
  32. ACT V. SCENE I. Nurse, Chorus about 18 min
  33. ACT I. SCENE I. Neoptolemus, Ulysses about 9 min
  34. ACT II. SCENE I. Philoctetes, Chorus , Neoptolemus about 11 min
  35. ACT III. SCENE I. Neoptolemus, Chorus, Philoctetes about 8 min
  36. ACT IV. SCENE I. ^ Neoptolemus, Philoctetes, Chorus about 19 min
  37. ACT V. SCENE I. Ulysses, Neoptolemiis, Chorus about 12 min

Continue:

Front matter

V

N

1 '%-'^'

Preface

AFTER the universal applause which the learned world have given to the Tragedies of Sophocles^ it would be needless to say any thing to recommend a translation of them, were all people conversant with them: yet since far the greater part of the world are ignorant and unlearned, and who, for that very reason, do not only decry dramatic, but all kinds of poetry in general, as to them it is necessary to speak in its defence. For, to what purpose is it to shew them the excellency of an author, which consists in an art which they in general condemn, as a means of corrupting men's morals, and eradicating out of their minds the principles of virtue ! But I hope to make it appear in the sequel of this discourse, that this accusation is not only unjust, but that tragedy, which is the object of their uttier aversion, is not only an

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IV PREFACE.

innoeent diversion but even useful, for the improvement of men's manners and direction of their lives, by inspiring them with the love of virtue and hatred of vice, by shewing, in their proper colours, the beauty of the one and the deformity of the other ; and, as men are endowed with reasonable souls, capable of choosing good, and refusing evil, by directing them to the proper objects of their choice and love, as well as of their hatred and aversion.

But here it must be understood, that I only by tragedy mean those of Sophocles and Euripides, and such as are built upon their plan, not such stuft as ignorant poetasters have imposed upon the world for tragedy since their times : who, studying more how to fill their pockets than improve their hearers, chose to compose such pieces as would gratify men's exti^vagant humours, as better serving their avaricious purposes.

This avarice is a fault of which not Dorsennus only was guilty, of whom Horace gives this character, Epist. lib. 2.

PREFACE. V

*' If the praetor paid him well for his pains in " composing his pieces, he was careless what re- '' putation they had afterwards in the world." I am afraid the celebrated Shakspeare cannot be entirely acquitted from having a share in this charge, which, perhaps, was the occasion of so many gross irregularities in that poet, which nothing but his other excellencies can excuse.

This avarice of the poets brought a scandal upon the art in general, and gave ground to many objections against it, which, abstracted from its abuse, is one of the noblest arts that ever was invented.

For, not to mention the wonderful effects which have been produced on the minds of men who were present at the acting of good tragedies, how tyrants have forgotten their cruelty, the ambitious been taught to moderate their desires, the slothful to earn glory in the service of their country, (which, as it is the design, so it hath been the effect of them) ; what is tragedy but an imitation of the actions of men, and which, by exciting in us terror and compassion for their misfortunes, teacheth us to moderate those passions, and avoid those faults whose prevalence

VI PREFACE.

may be like to carry us into the same, or misfortunes like those which we see them suffer? Foi instance, who that reads the tragedy of Oedipus, but is inclined to pity that miserable prince, and will not take care to avoid that rashness and curiosity which drove him into all his misfortunes ? Who that reads the tragedy of Ajax and his sad fate N^ill not pity him, and resolve against being overcome by his anger and rage, the miserable causes of it ? Again, the tragedy of Antigone is a good lesson for arbitrary princes to take care how their laws interfere with those of God and nature, and how they put their sanctions in execution against the transgressors of them.

Nor are the rest of the tragedies of Sophocles without their morals, to teach men to reduce their passions to the subjection of their reason, and to avoid those faults, which are the occasions of misforfun6& to the principal characters; and, lastly, (that \^ichis,^^^ design of perfect tragedies,) they set before oi^^fes the misfortunes which men fall into by their involuntary offences, and so prepare us to bear our own misfortunes with patience, when we consider how light they are in comparison of

PREFACE. VU

theirs whom we see represented upon the theatre. When we see represented the miseries of Oedipus and Philoctetes, we see that neither greatness nor innocence are sufficient to secure us from the calamities incident to man : and when we compare our own condition with theirs, and consider how little they deserved the fate they suffered, it encourageth us with more cheerfulness to combat the storms we meet with, in our passage through the raging waves of this troublesome life.

There is a very pertinent reflection to this purpose made by the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, cap. vi. lib. 9. " Tragedies," says he, '' were first introduced *' to put men in mind of those accidents which ** happen in their lives, to inform them that they " must necessarily come, and teach them that those " things, which they see with some delight on the " stage, should not appear unsupportable in the " grand theatre of the world ; for you see plainly " that such ought to be the catastrophe of all " pieces : and those who cry so #iTch on the thea- " tre, Oh Cytheron, do not deliver themselves from " their own evils." Though this is said only in respect to one effect of tragedy, namely, the re-

Till PREFACE.

fining terror and compassion; yet it shewfi how high an opinion even a Stoic had for this art.

The other excellencies of it I shall make out bv a comparison of poetry, of which tragedy is tlie noblest kind, with the other two sciences which are chiefly reckoned to contribute towards the polishing of mankind, and instructing them in the way of their duty, in order to present and future happiness : and those are history and morality, where I shall shew how far poetry excels them both, and is more conducive to that purpose. Other sciences, as

, metaphysics, arithmetic, and astronomy, being only subservient to the other, cannot presume to enter

the list in this dispute.

For example, astronomy consists in observing the order, harmony, and contrivance, of the celestial bodies, their steady revolutions, and the various seasons of the year thereby produced ; and though it helps to instruct men, it doth it not directly by its own power, but mediately, ^. e. by giving us high and noble sentiments of God, shewing that he is great and powerful in all his works, that he is a God of order and harmony, and, by conse-

PREFACE. IX^

quence, that he requires it in man, the noblest part of the creation, which consists in keeping his passions under the subjection of reason, (for all vice is nothing else but the effects of the irregularity of men's passions,) and shewing that, as he is powerful and just, he will certainly punish such disorders and irregularities in rational creatures. For the same reason metaphysics, which consist in contemplation of the nature of spirits, are subservienf to the same ends, (as may be said of all other sciences that can be thought of, except divinity,) i. e. the instruction of men, and making them what they should be ; which are the direct and immediate ends of history, morality, and poetry. For divinity, that must always be excepted, whose present design is to establish the tmth of revealed doctrines of the utmost importance, with respect not only to this life, but even to an eternal one hereafter. What I am therefore to prove is, that poetry is more edifying and instructive to man, in order to a due regulation of their lives, than either history or morality. First then as to history: what is it but a faithful narration of the actions of men, and other accidents, with their circumstances? But it is defec-

PREFACE.

tive in this particular; for although it may give us instances of persons who have suffered by their vices, or any other causes w^ith w^hich w^e are unacquainted ; yet, in giving us those instances, it still leaves us ignorant for want of precepts, to teach us ' how to behave ourselves, should any of those cases happen to be ours : for, although we might guess at the cause of a person's sufferings, as a proud man, a tyrannical king, &c. we cannot affirm that his pride or his tyranny were the causes of those sufferings, nor can we affirm that he would not have suffered such things had he been otiierwise. Some folly or indiscretion, or other thing which we are ignorant of, might have caused his misfortunes, which, had he avoided, he might still have prospered veiy well in his other vices : so different are the causes of all things which happen, and so obscure the paths to trace them out.

If, indeed, an historian, in the description of a character, tells us what is to be done and what avoided, he then enters upon the province of the moralist or poet. But the events of history, as such, are far from instructing men, or affording them any general maxims for directing their lives.

PREFACE. XI

For instance, what moral is to be drawn from a cursed usurper dying in his bed, and a just king murdered by his subjects ? A just Cicero and true patriot of his country suffering a cruel death from an ambitious Anthony? The just Cato besieged and forced to lay violent hands on himself, while rebel Caesar's name lives with honour ? So that it is impossible to draw any general maxims from particular events, and those bare matters of fact which historians are obliged to relate. Morality labours under the same defect, for although a moralist may define prudence, justice, temperance, and other virtues, with their opposite vices, and by many convincing arguments, drawn from the nature of things, shew us how much one is preferable to the other, yet he wants example to enforce those precepts, to shew how persons by their virtue have been happy in their lives, and glorious after death ; and again to shew into what calamities particular persons have fallen by the prevalence of those vices they are declaiming against. But a judicious poet takes in both precept and example, for, as he is purely the maker of his own creature, he forms him as he pleases, and represents to us such persons as drew on themselves their own misfortunes

XU PREFACE.

by their vices and follies, (as Sophocles doth in the tragedies of Ajax, Oedipus, Trachiniae, &c.) or who rendered themselves the objects of our admiration and praise, as Ulysses and Theseus. We see nothing in any of those characters, but what is to be done, or what avoided ; for the poet shews us what vices or follies were the next and immediate cause of the sufferings of the one, and what virtues gained the other praise. Oedipus is represented as a prince, who, though he had many excellent virtues, as justice, courage, and tenderness for the welfare of his people, yet fell into his misfortunes by his prodigious rashness and curiosity : and, by his conduct in a particular instance, the poet instructs us to avoid those faults which brought on him his misfortunes.

The same may be said of Ajax, who is represented as a person whose wrath and malice ruined him ; and of Deianira, who was undone by too great credulity, and giving way too much to that weak passion of jealousy. On the other hand, the character of Ulysses is distinguished by several excellent qualities, as his pnidence in composing the strife between Agamemnon and Teucrus, his placable and forgiving temper towaid Ajax.

PREFACE. Xm

The character of Theseus, in Oedipus Coloneus, is likewise the drauglit of a righteous king, neither terrified by threats nor allured by flatteries from executing justice among his people, when the complaints of the miserable call for his assistance. In any of these cases we cannot possibly fail of knowing how to behave ourselves when we read those poems, should we fall into the same or the like circumstances with the persons there represented. For they are so represented that their words and actions speak the men, and thereby of necessity render them the objects of our love or hatred ;. and what we love or hate in another will have some effect upon our own conduct : whereas the moralist only discourses of virtue and vice in a methodical way, defines them according to their subjects, causes, and effects; and enlarges upon each division, but is destitute of example, to shew where those virtues or vices are displayed. And the historian confines himself to strict matters of fact, but shews us not how they ought to influence our conduct. A poet, I according to his name and the import of his office, being derived from the Gtreek word noi»T*j?, a creator or maker, is only to shew men what they should or should not be, not what they are or are not, as the

XIY PREFi^CE.

historian doth, and therefore he cannot fail of laying down proper instructions for the conduct of hfe, and shewing in others what they ought to do themselves. And thus he answers those ends which both historians and moralists propose, yet labours under none of those defects which they do ; for, as hath been shewn, he gives us the particular instances wherein they have been rash or imprudent, cruel and outrageous ; or, on the contrary, wise, just, and pious, and the motives upon which they proceeded, and how they behaved themselves in such circumstances, and the consequences thereof, which must needs afford matter of great use and application to the hearers. This is no new observation, but what Horace hath long ago made, who tells us, that Homer instructed men what to do, and what to avoid, better than either Chrysippus or Crantor. Ep. ii. lib. 1.

Now of all kinds of poetry tragedy is confessedly the noblest, and therefore better answers this end. Our modern tragedies are, indeed, far less instructive than those of the ancients in this way,

PREFACE. XV

for want of the chorus, which the other had, whose office it was to make moral apphcations in their songs, from what was said by the actors in the foregoing episode, in which they always conformed themselves to the rules of that religious worship, which was in vogue among them. I shall give the reader the following instance, as a proof of this truth, out of Oedipus Tyrannus.

Jocasta, thinking that the oracle, which foretold the fate of Laius was false, viz. that he should be murdered by his son Oedipus, whom she believed to be dead, little thinking that that servant to whom she delivered him did not execute his orders, out of pity to the child, speaks in a contemptuous manner of all oracles in general, and says, that there is as little reason that we should believe that part of the oracle which declared he should commit incest with his mother, or any other oracle whatsoever, as that which she had already proved false.

This, from the mouth of a queen, might be of very pernicious consequence to the hearers, by tending to beget in their minds a contempt of all religious worship. The chorus, therefore, to prevej;it the

XVI PREFACE.

natural effects of so bad an example, and preserve in the minds of the audience a due reverence for religion, declares there is a terrible god that will punish all impiety, either in our words or actions, and prays that he would not revenge the impiety, of Jocasta on that city. Act iii. scene 5, " May " the gods grant me to enjoy a happy state," &c.

The way, therefore, to make our theatres as instructive as the Athenian was, is to restore the chorus, and for ever to banish from the stage such stuff with which it is daily pestered. I shall not however take upon me to dictate so far, as to say what should or should not be done here in this kind among us, who live under so wise a government ; but leave it to those of better judgment and greater power, whether so considerable an innovation be convenient or not; but shall proceed to answer two grand objections which are brought against the use of tragedy : the first is, that it is only suited to a state of heathenism; the other, that it is very much abused ; and the answer which I shall make to these shall be not only sufficient to confute these objections, but likewise farther recommend this kind of poetry. The former in its full

PREFACE. XVll

force and vigour is thus. Although it should be granted, that, in a state of heathenism, when mankind had but imperfect notions of a future state, and the wisest of the philosophers doubted whether there was any such thing at all or not, such helps as tragedy might be very useful to help the philosophers by fables and similitudes, and make out what they could not in the reformation of men. Yet to us, who live under the dispensation of the Gospel, a most perfect rule of faith and obedience delivered by our great prophet Jesus Christ, and are assured by the most convincing arguments of the certainty of a future state of rewards and punishments, what occasion can there be for any such helps as tragedy ; since the Holy Scriptures afford all the arguments that can be desired to persuade us to embrace religion and virtue, and abhor vice ?

It is true, were it so that the precepts of the Gospel had their intended effect, and we saw that all men lived according to them; that is, were every man really what he should be, then indeed all theatrical recreations were useless. Yet, since experience informs us that the case is quite other- ^vise, and we' often see men fall into the greatest

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inconveniences, through one predominant passion or other, why should we slight such helps as can be any way conducive to so good an end, as the subduing those passions to the government of reason ? We have the examples not only of the prophets, but of our Saviour himself, to authorise a parabolical way of instruction, which they often had recourse to, rather than precept. Nathan in particular brought David to repentance by a very remarkable parable. See 2 Sam. xii.

We have likewise many parables of our blessed Saviour in the Scripture ; yea, we read in one place that he so far preferred it to precept, that " without '* a parable spake he not unto them," i, e. his disciples. Now, every tragedy hath its fable or parable, which is the same, and every parable its moral instruction, for that is the end of all fables, as I have already instanced in the tragedies of Oedipus, Ajax, Antigone, &c. For they are not told as truths, nor doth the poet design to impose his fictions on the world as such ; yet, though they are not in themselves true, the appUcation and moral instruction which they design is most undoubtedly so : if anger destroyed Thyestes, Ajax, and others, rashness

PREFACE. XIX

and curiosity Oedipus, the sad effects of jealousy Deianira, and severity Creon, we may reasonably conclude, in the ordinary course of things, that where the same passions prevail, they will always have the same effects. And although there had been really no such persons in the world as are here mentioned, yet the application is general to all; and it is most probable that persons of such manners should do such actions, and that such actions should produce such consequences. Now, if men, who are slaves to their passions and abandoned in their morals, can be reclaimed, what matters it whether it be done by a poet or divine? If a cruel persecuting tyi'ant is reformed, and becomes a pious prince, careful for the welfare of his people, what matters it whether it be done by hearing a tragedy of the terrible sufferings of a people under a tyrannous government; or, by hearing a sermon, setting forth how God is merciful to all his creatures in general, and that he requires the same temper in men toward their fellow creatures, and the pimishment which waits the opposite vice in a future state, &c. As to the latter, I am aware of an objection, that there is a duty in the very act of hearing sermons, which is not in the other : I grant it ;

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XX PREFACE.

yet that hearing is in order to a better end, viz. to be instructed in the will of God and the wiay of our duty, Rom. x. v. 14, &c. But, if hearing doth not answer that end, it will be so far from standing us in any stead in the day of account, that it will rather be an aggravation of the condemnation of such stony hearts, in which the good seed of the word was sown in vain : and if hearing a tragedy h^th often wrought the minds of men to that Christian temper, which preaching could not, I see not why the use of so good a help is not both lawful and commendable.

The usefulness of this diversion will farther appear, if we look back and trace it from its original, and consider the design for which it was first invented, viz. to afford pleasure and profit to its hearers. Wh^a the philosophers found that it was impossible for them to form men, such as they would have them to be, by the precepts of philosophy, they were forced to have recourse to tragedy ; which was therefore invented, not as the best employment that men could take up, but as a means to correct the excess in which they plunged themselves at their feasts ; and to render those amusements profitable.

PREFACE. XX;i

which custom and their infirmities had made necessary, and their corruption very dangerous. So that \ tragedy was designed both to satisfy the natural curiosity of men, and that incHnation which all have to gratify themselves with some kind of recreation, and at the same time to instruct them ; and that very reason, that it doth so, is sufficient to justify the use of it. Moderate recreations are by no means unlawful or contrary to the word of God, but rather authorised by it. God did not give men inclinations, but such only, the gratifying of which are lawful, provided they regulate themselves by the measures of prudence and sobriety; and it were heartily to be wished that those libertines, who complain of the yoke of religion, would, instead of their customary criminal indulgence of their passions, betake themselves to this kind of diversion.

The other objection against tragic poetry is, that it is very much abused. This must certainly be granted ; yet this objection, however true, cannot lie against what I here contend for ; since, as I said before, 1 would be here understood to mean only such tragedies as are built upon the plan of the ancients, Sophocles and Euripides, and according

XXii PREFACE.

to those rules laid down by Aristotle and Horace ; not such abominable stuff as our English theatres have been crowded with since their times, where the spectators have been entertained with tedious scenes of courtship, abusive language to the clergy, ridiculous contradictions, abominable fustian ; yea, we have instances of their prophane flights of thought, little better than blasphemy . These were faults which Dryden and Lee fell into, who have been followed herein by several other poets since their time, for which they are justly, though severely, scourged by the ingenious Mr. Collier. What an abominable character doth Dryden give us of Nourmahal, in that scene where she discovers her unnatural love for Aurengzebe ? How doth she talk like a woman lost to all shame and modesty ? The ancients never ran into errors of this nature ; for though Phaedra, in Euripides, is in love with Hippolytus, yet her^ honour, throughout the whole play, so far prevails over her love, that it ties her tongue from the least immodest expression.

Shakspeare, however faulty in other things, yet , had none of this ; we do not find his plays stuffed with any such tender sentiments between the diffe-

PREFACE. XXlll

rent sex before marriage, which must be shocking and mieasy to the fair sex, and offensive to that modesty which is no less an ornament to them than their beauty. Juhet and Desdemona are both married, before they make any acknowledgements of their love. We have likewise passages in several of their pieces, where they abuse the clergy with m.ost insolent language, of which the behaviour of Chamont to the Chaplain, in that celebrated play called the Orphan, is one instance; and that of Oedipus, in Dryden's play of that title, toward Tiresias, is another : where the poets have, witli impudent language, abused, not only those persons, namely, the Chaplain and Tiresias in particular, but even railed against the sacred function in general. If it be not raking from too foul a channel, I shall cite the passages from the authors. Oedipus, act iii.

Oed, Who were my parents ?

Tir, Thou shall know too soon.

OeU, Why seek I truth from thee 1 The smiles of courtiers, and the harlot's tears, The tradesmen's oaths and mourning of an heir. Are truths to what priests tell. ' O, why hast priesthood privilege to lie. And yet to be believed 1 ,_^,

XXIV PREFACE.

And, in the Oi-phan, act iii. Chamont says to the Chaplain :

Nay, but th' art an hypocrite ; is there not one Of all thy tribe that's honest in your schools ]

And afterwards :

If thou wouldst have me not contemn thy office ^ And character, think all thy brethren knaves. Thy trade a cheat, anct thou its worst professor.

Afterwards, Chamont, seeing the meekness of the Chaplain, in bearing this language without shewing any great signs of resentment, returns to his former style, and reproaches him with the most vile, the most scurrilous language that impudence and rage could dictate.

Curse on that formal steady villain's face. Just so do all bawds look ; nay, bawds, they say. Can pray upon occasion, talk of heaven, Turn up their goggling eyeballs, rail at vice. Dissemble, lie, and preach like any priest. Art thou a bawd ?

But it were needless to produce a few passages of this kind, and those only to be found in the writings of authors long since dead, were not their example too ^sely followed by the author of a play too

PREFACE. XXV

well known, and frequented too, to be jiamed here ; to the shame of the cormpted taste of our nation, and disrelish of the admirable beauties of the ancients.

The lawyer bekuaves the divine, &c.

And now let any man judge, whether it be fit that men in holy orders, to whom are committed the oracles of God, whose particular business it is to promote the honour of God, and set forward the salvation of all men, should be treated with such language. And I believe all men will allow, that there is no more effectual way to serve the causes of the atheist and infidel, and to bring religion into contempt, than to infuse into men's minds a contempt of its teachers.

These and such like abuses brought this scandal upon all dramatic writings in general, that they were only invented by the poets to get money, and enrich themselves by the follies and vices of mankind. But what can be more unjust than to banish the true coins out of the world, because of counterfeits ? For such are certainly that kind of tragedy I have now mentioned, with respect to what is truly and properly so called.

XXVI PREFACE.

Is it an argument that we should never follow the directions of a skilful physician, because some ignorant pretenders have killed their patients by medicines improper for their disease ? This was not because they were physicians ; but because they were nothing less. And yet just so much reason have we to reject the use of right tragedy, because it hath been abused and perverted to base ends. For nothing can be more opposite to right tragedy than what ignorant poetasters have imposed on the world as such ; nor can any thing be more unjust than to condemn it, fqr no other reason but because of that abuse ; and those who do condemn the most noble diversion in the world, a diversion which awakens the genius of men, searches to the inmost recesses of the soul, finds out those virtues which lie hid in the smooth seasons and calms of life, and sets them upon actions truly noble and praiseworthy. It touches the most obdurate soul ; and makes it melt to behold the sufferings of our fellow creatures. I could give many proofs of this truth, but shall at present only trouble the reader with the following.

Alexander, a cruel tyrant of Pharae, in Thessaly, being at the theatre when the Hecuba of f^ripides

PREFACE. XXVU

was acted, was so sensibly moved, that he went out before the first act was ended, saying, he was ashamed to be seen to weep at the ^misfortunes of Hecuba and Polyxena, when he daily imbrued his hands in the blood of his citizens. He was afraid that if he stayed longer his heart would be mollified, and forced to quit that spirit of tyranny, which was destructive to so many of his citizens : and the actor escaped with his life only through those small remains of pity he had raised in his breast, who had been so long a stranger to it. Collier himself, who was so violent a scourge of dramatic poetry, yet allows it to be the most useful thing the wit of man can invent, for the promoting of virtue and the discouragement of vice : and certainly if ever any hath been written without respect to this end, either the avarice, ignorance, or laziness of the^poets have been the occasion of it, and not any defect in the art itself.

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