Dulroy. His father died in prison two days since. Rochfort. Yes, to the shame of this ungrateful state That such a master in the art of war, So nobly and so highly meriting From this forgetful country, should, for want Of means to satisfy his creditors The sum he took up for the general good, Komont. Dare you ever hope for like opportunity? It is in vain; the opportunity passes off, and Charalois opens not his mouth, nor even silently tenders his petition, I have, upon a former occasion, both generally and particularly observed upon the effects of dramatic silence; the stage cannot afford a more beautiful and touching instance than this before us to say it is not inferior to the silence of Hamlet upon his first appearance, would be saying too little in its favour. I have no doubt but Massinger had this very case in his thoughts, and I honour him no less for the imitating than I should have done for striking out a silence so naturally and so delicately preserved. What could Charalois have uttered to give him that interest in the hearts of his spectators, which their own conclusions during his affecting silence have already impressed? No sooner are the judges gone, than the ardent Romont again breaks forth This obstinate spleen You think becomes your sorrow, and sorts well This is Hamlet himself, his inky cloak, and cus- and imploring mercy from his creditors and the law towards his unburied remains, now claims the attention of the court, who had been hitherto unmoved by the feeble formality of a hired pleader, and the turbulent passion of an enraged soldier. Charalois' argument takes a middle course between both; the pious feelings of a son, tempered by the modest manners of a gentleman: the creditors however are implacable, the judge is hostile, and the law must take its course. Creditor. 'Tis the city's doctrine: Charalois. Be constant in it; And since you are as merciless in your natures, A prisoner for it: load me with those irons There was yet another incident, which the poet's passion for business and spectacle induced him to avail himself of, viz. the funeral of the Marshal: this he displays on the stage, with a train of captains and soldiers following the body of their general; Charalois and Romont, under custody of their jailors appear as chief mourners, and a party of creditors are concerned in the group. lant spirit of Romont, and still more penetrated with the filial piety of young Charalois, delivers them both from imprisonment and distress, by discharging the debts of the Marshal and dismissing the creditors: this also passes before the eyes of the spectators. Before Charalois has given full expression to his gratitude for this extraordinary benefaction, Rochfort follows it with a farther act of bounty, which he introduces in the style of a request A more methodical and regular dramatist would have stopped here, satisfied that the im- After this solemnity is despatched, the poet pression already made was fully sufficient for proceeds to develop the amiable generosity of all the purposes of his plot; but Massinger, ac-old Rochfort, who, being touched with the galcording to the busy spirit of the stage for which he wrote, is not alarmed by a throng of incidents, and proceeds to open the court and discuss the pleadings on the stage: the advocate Charmi in a set harangue moves the judges for dispensing with the rigour of the law in favour of creditors, and for rescuing the Marshal's corpse out of their clutches; he is browbeaten and silenced by the presiding judge, old Novall: the plea is then taken up by the impetuous Romont, and urged with so much personal insolence that he is arrested on the spot, put in charge of the officers of the court, and taken to prison. This is a very striking mode of introducing the set oration of Charalois : a son recounting the military achievements of a newly deceased father, Call in my daughter-Still I have a suit to you, Beaumelle, Rochfort's daughter, is presented to pitation almost without example; Charalois | Fatal Dowry, in advancing to that period asks the lady, Fair Beaumelle, can you love me? Charalois. You need not question me if I can you; The match is agreed upon as soon as proposed, and Rochfort hastens away to prepare the cele bration. In this cluster of incidents I must not fail to remark, that the poet introduces young Novall upon the scene, in the very moment when the short dialogue above quoted was passing; this Novall had before been exhibited as a suitor to Beaumelle, and his vain frivolous character had been displayed in a very ridiculous and contemptible light; he is now again introduced to be a witness of his own disappointment, and his only observation upon it is-What's this change?-Upon the exit of the father how ever he addresses himself to the lady, and her reply gives the alarming hint, that makes discovery of the fatal turn which the plot is now about to take for when Novall, turning aside to Beaumelle, by one word-Mistress !-conveys the reproach of inconstancy, she replies, Though you have saved my life, Rescued me often from my wants, I must not This honourable advice is rejected with contempt: Novall, in whose mean bosom there does not seem a trace of virtue, avows a determined perseverance; and the poet having in this hasty manner completed these inauspicious nuptials, closes the second act of his tragedy. NUMBER LXXVIII. in the fable, at which the tragedy of The Fair Penitent opens. If the author of this tragedy thought it necessary to contract Massinger's plot, and found one upon it of a more regular construction, I know not how he could do this any otherwise than by taking up the story at the point where we have now left it, and throwing the antecedent matter into narration; and though these two prefatory acts are full of very affecting incidents, yet the pathos which properly appertains to the plot, and conduces to the catastrophe of the tragedy, does not in strictness take place before the event of the marriage. No critic will say that the pleadings before the judges, the interference of the creditors, the distresses of Charalois, or the funeral of the Marshal, are necessary parts of the drama; at the same time no reader will deny (and neither could Rowe himself overlook) the effect of these incidents: he could not fail to foresee that he was to sacrifice very much of the interest of his fable, when he was to throw that upon narration which his original had given in spectacle; and the loss was more enhanced by falling upon the hero of the drama; for who that compares Charalois, at the end of the second act of Massinger, with Rowe's Altamont, at the opening scene of The Fair Penitent, can doubt which character has most interest with the spectators? We have seen the former in all the most amiable offices which filial piety could perform; enduring insults from his inveterate oppressors, and voluntarily surrendering himself to a prison to ransom the dead body of his father from unrelenting creditors. Altamont presents himself before us in his wedding suit, in the splendour of fortune, and at the summit of happiness: he greets us with a burst of exultation Let this auspicious day be ever sacred, The rest of the scene is employed by him and Horatio alternately in recounting the benefits conferred upon them by the generous Sciolto; and the very same incident of the seizure of his father's corpse by the creditors, and his redemption of it, is recited by Horatio When his hard creditors, Thou gavest thyself a ransom for his bones; Thy hopeful youth to slaves who ne'er knew mercy. We have now expended two entire acts of the It is not however within the reach of this or any other description, to place Altamont in that interesting and amiable light, as circumstances have already placed Charalois; the happy and exulting bridegroom may be an object of our congratulation, but the virtuous and suffering Charalois engages our pity, love, and admiration. If Rowe would have his audience credit Altamont for that filial piety, which marks the character he copied from, it was a small oversight to put the following expression into his mouth Oh, great Sciolto! Oh, my more than father! But she, with looks averse and eyes that froze me, I am aware that Sciolto attempts to parry these facts, by an interpretation too gross and unbecoming for a father's character, and only fit for the lips of a Lothario; but yet it is not in nature to suppose that Altamont could mistake such symptoms, and it fixes a meanness upon him, which prevails against his character throughout the play, Nothing of this sort could be discovered by Massinger's bridegroom, for the ceremony was agreed upon and performed at the very first interview of the parties; Beaumelle gave a full and unreserved assent, and though her character suffers on the score of hy A closer attention to character would have reminded him that it was possible for Altamont to express his gratitude to Sciolto without set-pocrisy on that occasion, yet Charalois is saved ting him above a father, to whose memory he had paid such devotion. From this contraction of his plot, by the defalcation of so many pathetic incidents, it became impossible for the author of the Fair Penitent to make his Altamont the hero of his tragedy, and the leading part is taken from him by Horatio, and even by Lothario throughout the drama. There are several other reasons which concur to sink Altamont upon the comparison with Charalois, the chief of which arises from the captivating colours in which Rowe has painted his libertine; on the contrary, Massinger gives a contemptible picture of his young Novall; he makes him not only vicious, but ridiculous: in foppery and impertinence he is the counterpart of Shakspeare's Osrick: vainglorious, purse-proud, and overbearing amongst his dependents; a spiritless poltroon in his interview with Romont. Lothario (as Johnson observes), "with gayety which cannot be hated, and bravery which cannot be despised, retains too much of the spectator's kindness." His high spirit, brilliant qualities, and fine person, are so described as to put us in danger of false impressions in his favour, and to set the passions in opposition to the moral of the piece: I suspect that the gallantry of Lothario makes more advocates for Calista than she ought to have. There is another consideration, which operates against Altamont, and it is an indelicacy in his character, which the poet should have provided against: he married Calista with the full persuasion of her being averse to the match; in his first meeting with Sciolto he says Oh! could I hope there was one thought of Altamont, As a dead lover's statue on his tomb; A rising storm of passion shook her breast, Her eyes a piteous shower of tears let fall, And then she sigh'd as if her heart were breaking; The case by it: less hypocrisy appears in Calista, but hers is the deeper guilt, because she was already dishonoured by Lothario, and Beaumelle's coquetry with Novall had not yet reached the length of criminality. Add to this, that Altamont appears in the contemptible light of a suitor, whom Calista had apprized of her aversion, and to whom she had done a deliberate act of dishonour, though his person and character must have been long known to her. is far otherwise between Charalois and Beaumelle, who never met before, and every care is taken by the poet to save his hero from such a deliberate injury, as might convey contempt; with this view the marriage is precipitated; nothing is allowed to pass that might open the character of Charalois to Beaumelle: she is hurried into an assignation with Novall immediately upon her marriage; every artifice of se duction is employed by her confidante Bellaperte, and Aymer, the parasite of Novall, to make this meeting criminal; she falls the victim of passion, and when detection brings her to a sense of her guilt, she makes this penitent and pathetic appeal to Charalois Oh my fate! That never would consent that I should see With justice therefore you may cut me off, -Yet you shall find I dare not yet live one: let those famed matrons, I yet will equal them in dying nobly, But that, when I am dead, you will forgive me. Compare this with the conduct of Calista, and then decide which frail fair one has the better title to the appellation of a Penitent, and which drama conveys the better moral by its catas- tion, she had called it a most dishonourable trophe. There is indeed a grossness in the older poet, which his more modern imitator has refined: but he has only sweetened the poison, not removed its venom; nay, by how much more palatable he has made it, so much more pernicious it is become in his tempting sparkling cup than in the coarse deterring dose of Massinger. Rowe has no doubt greatly outstepped his original in the striking character of Lothario, who leaves Novall as far behind him as Charalois does Altamont: it is admitted then that Calista has as good a plea as any wanton could wish, to urge for her criminality with Lothario, and the poet has not spared the car of modesty in his exaggerated description of the guilty scene; every luxurious image, that his inflamed imagination could crowd into the glowing rhapsody, is there to be found, and the whole is recited in numbers so flowing and harmonious that they not only arrest the passions but the memory also, and perhaps have been, and still can be, as generally repeated as any passage in English poetry. Massinger, with less elegance, but not with less regard to decency, suffers the guilty act to pass within the course of his drama; the greater refinement of manners in Rowe's day did not allow of this, and he anticipated the incident: but when he revived the recollection of it by such a studied description, he plainly showed that it was not from moral principle that he omitted it; and if he has presented his heroine to the spectators with more immediate delicacy during the compass of the play, he has at the same time given her greater depravity of mind; her manners may be more refined, but her principle is fouler than Beaumelle's. Calista, who yielded to the gallant gay Lothario, hot with the Tuscan grape, might perhaps have disdained a lover who addressed her in the holiday language which Novall uses to Beau melle Best day to Nature's curiosity! No autumn, nor no age ever approach This heavenly piece, which Nature having wrought, compliance; and if we may take Lothario's word (who seems full correct enough in describing facts and particulars) she had not much cause to complain of his being false; for he tells Rossano I liked her, would have married her, But that it pleased her father to refuse me, To make this honourable fool her husband. It appears by this that Lothario had not been false to her in the article of marriage, though he might have been cruel to her on the score of passion, which indeed is confessed on his part with as much cold indifference as the most barefaced avowal could express.-But to return to the letter: she proceeds to tell him—" that she could almost wish she had that heart, and that honour to bestow with it which he has robbed her of."-But lest this half wish should startle him, she adds" But oh! I fear, could I retrieve them, I should again be undone by the too faithless, yet too lovely Lothario."-This must be owned as full a reason as she could give why she should only almost wish for her lost honour, when she would make such a use of it, if she had it again at her disposal. And yet the very next paragraph throws every thing into contradiction, for she tells him-" this is the last weakness of her pen, and to-morrow shall be the last in which she will indulge her eyes." If she could keep to that resolution, I must think the recovery of her innocence would have been worth a whole wish, and many a wish; unless we are to suppose she was so devoted to guilt that she could take delight in reflecting upon it: this is a state of depravity which human nature hardly ever attains, and seems peculiar to Calista. She now grows very humble, and concludes in a style well suited to her humility-" Lucilla shall conduct you, if you are kind enough to let me see you; it shall be the last trouble you shall meet with from -The lost Calista." It was very ill done of Horatio's curiosity to read this letter, and I must ever regret that he has so unhandsomely exposed a lady's private correspondence to the world. NUMBER LXXIX. The letter of Calista (which brings about the discovery by the poor expedient of Lothario's dropping it and Horatio's finding it) has not even the merit of being characteristically wicked, THOUGH the part which Horatio takes in the and is both in its matter and mode below trage- business of the drama, is exactly that which dy. It is "Lothario's cruelty has determined falls to the share of Romont in the Fatal Dowry, her to yield a perfect obedience to her father, yet their characters are of a very different cast; and give her hand to Altamont, in spite of her for as Rowe had bestowed the fire and impeweakness for the false Lothario."-If the lady tuosity of Romont upon his Lothario, it was a had given her perfect obedience its true denomina-very judicious opposition to contrast it with the cool deliberate courage of the sententious Hor- | all dramas, which must not be too rigidly inatio, the friend and brother-in-law of Altamont.sisted upon, and provided no extraordinary vioWhen Horatio has read Calista's letter, lence is done to reason and common sense, the which Lothario had dropped (an accident which candid critic ought to let them pass: this I more frequently happens to gentlemen in come- take to be a case in point; and though Horatio's dies than in tragedies) he falls into a very long cool courage and ready presence of mind are not meditation, and closes it with putting this ques- just the qualities to reconcile us to such an overtion to himself: sight, yet I see no reason to be severe upon the incident, which is followed by his immediate recollection What if I give this paper to her father? At this moment he is interrupted in his reflections by the presence of Lavinia, whose tender solicitude fills up the remaining part of the dialogue, and concludes the act without any decisive resolution on the part of Horatio; an incident well contrived, and introduced with much dramatic skill and effect: though pressed by his wife to disclose the cause of his uneasiness, he does not impart to her the fatal discovery he has made; this also is well in character. Upon his next entrance he has withdrawn himself from the company, and being alone, resumes his meditation What, if, while all are here intent on revelling, This soliloquy is succeeded by the much admired and striking scene between him and Lothario; rigid criticism might wish to abridge some of the sententious declamatory speeches of Horatio, and shorten the dialogue to quicken the effect; but the moral sentiment and harmonious versification are much too charming to be treated as intruders, and the author has also struck upon a natural expedient for prolonging the dialogue, without any violence to probability, by the interposition of Rossano, who acts as a mediator between the hostile parties. This interposition is farther necessary to prevent a decisive rencounter, for which the fable is not ripe; neither would it be proper for Horatio to anticipate the revenge, which is reserved for Altamont: the altercation, therefore, closes with a challenge from Lothario West of the town a mile, amongst the rocks, Two hours ere noon to-morrow I expect thee; Thy single hand to mine. The place of meeting is not well ascertained, and the time is too long deferred for strict probability; there are, however, certain things in Two hours ere noon to-morrow! Hah! Ere that Whether this be a measure altogether in character with a man of Horatio's good sense and discretion, I must own is matter of doubt with me. I think he appears fully satisfied of her actual criminality; and in that case it would be more natural for him to lay his measures for intercepting Lothario, and preventing the assignation, than to try his rhetoric in the present crisis upon the agitated mind of Calista. As it has justly occurred to him, that he has been overreached by Lothario in the postponement of the duel, the measure I suggest would naturally tend to hasten that rencounter. Now, though the business of the drama may require an explanation between Horatio and Calista, whereupon to ground an occasion for his interesting quarrel with Altamont, yet I do not see any necessity to make that a premeditated explanation, nor to sacrifice character by a measure that is inconsistent with the better judgment of Horatio. The poet, however, has decreed it otherwise, and a deliberate interview with Calista and Horatio accordingly takes place. This, although introduced with a solemn invocation on his part, is very clumsily conducted Teach me, some Power! that happy art of speech Who can expect, after this preparation, to hear Lothario and Calista!-Thus they join Two names which Heaven decreed should never meet. Hence have the talkers of this populous city This I hold to be totally out of nature; first bccause it is a palpable departure from his resolution to use gracious words; next, because it has a certain tendency to produce rage and not repen |