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Lee, in several of their Tragedies, have practised this fecret with good success,
But to Thew how a Rant pleases beyond the most just and natural thought that is not pronounced with vehemence, I would defire the reader, when he sees the tragedy of Oedipus, to observe how quietly the hero is dismissed at the end of the third aćt, after having pronounced the following lines, in which the thought is very natural, and apt to move compassion:
“ To you, good gods, I make my last appeal; “ Or clear my virtues, or my crimes reveal. “ If in the maze of fate I blindly run, « And backward trod those paths I fought to fhun;
Impute my errors to your own decree : "My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.” Let us then observe with what thunder-claps of applause he leaves the stage, after the impieties and execrations at the end of the fourth act; ånd
you will wonder to see an audience so cursed and so pleased at the same time. « O that, as oft I have at Athens seen, [Where, by the way, there was no stage till many
years after Oedipus] « The stage arise, and the big clouds descend; “ So now, in very deed, I might behold “ This pond'rous globe, and all yon marble roof, “ Meet like the hands of Jove, and crush man
« kind: R! For all the elements,” &c,
* By Addison, dated it seems from Chelsea. See final Note to N° 7'; N°221, and Notes,
ADVERTISEMEN T. Having spoken of Mr. Powell, as sometimes raising him. self applause from the ill taste of an audience; I must do him the justice to own, that he is excellently formed for a tragedian, and, when he pleases, deserves the admiration of the best judges; as I doubt not but he will in the “Conquest of Mexico," which is acted for his own benefit to-morrow night,
N° 41. Tuesday, April 17, 1711,
-Tu non inventa reperta es.
Ovid. Met, i. 654.
So found, is worse than loft.
YOMPASSION for the gentleman, who
writes the following letter, should not prevail upon, me to fall upon the fair sex, if it were not that I find they are frequently fairer than they ought to be. Such impostures are not to be tolerated in civil society, and I think his misfortune ought to be made public, as a warning for other men always to examine into what they admire.
to be a person of general knowledge, I make my application to you on a very particular occasion. I have a great mind to be rid of my wife, and hope,
will be of opi
my ' nion I have very just pretensions to a divorce. • I am a mere man of the town, and have very • little improvement, but what I have got from plays. I remember in The Silent Woman, • the learned Dr. Cutberd, or Dr. Otter (I for* get which) makes one of the causes of separa• tion to be Error Persona, when a man marries "a woman, and finds her not to be the same woman whom he intended to marry, but another. If that be law, it is, I presume, exactly my
case. For you are to know, Mr. SPECTA«TOR, that there are women who do not let • their hulbands see their faces till they are mar(ried.
• Not to keep you in suspence, I mean plainly that part of the sex who paint. They are some • of them so exquisitely skilful this way,
that give them but a tolerable pair of eyes to set up with, and they will make bosom, lips, cheeks, • and eye-brows, by their own industry. As for my dear, never man was so enamoured as I was of her fair forehead, neck, and arms, as well as • the bright jet of her hair ; but to my great asto
nishment I find they were all the effect of art. · Her skin is so tarnished with this practice, that · when she first wakes in a morning, she scarce • seems young enough to be the mother of her * whom I carried to bed the night before. I shall take the liberty to part with her by the first opportunity, unless her father will make her portion suitable to her real, not her assumed,
countenance. This I thought fit to let him and her know by your means.
• I am, SIR, • Your most obedient humble servant.'
I cannot tell what the law, or the parents of the lady will do for this injured gentleman, but must allow he has very much justice on his side. I have indeed very long observed this evil, and distinguished those of our women who wear their own, from those in borrowed complexions, by the Picts and the BRITISH. There does not need any great discernment to judge which are which. The British have a lively animated aspect; the Picts, though never so beautiful, have dead uninformed countenances. The muscles of a real face sometimes swell with soft passion, sudden surprise, and are fushed with agreeable confufions, according as the objects before them, or the ideas presented to them, affect their imagination. But the Piets behold all things with the same air, whether they are joyful or fad; the fame fixed insensibility appears upon all occasions. A Pict, though she takes all that pains to invite the approach of lovers, is obliged to keep them at a certain distance; a sigh in a languishing lover, if fetched too near her, would dissolve a feature; and a kiss snatched by a forward one, might transfer the complexion of the mistress to the admirer. It is hard to speak of these false fair ones, without saying something uncomplaisant, but I would only recommend to them to consider how they like coming into a room new painted; they may assure themselves, the near approach of a lady who uses this practice, is much more offensive.
WILL HONEYCOMB told us one day, an adventure he once had with a Pict. This lady had wit, as well as beauty, at will; and made it her business to gain hearts, for no other reason but to rally the torments of her lovers. She would make great advances to insnare men, but without any manner of scruple break off when there was no provocation. Her ill-nature and vanity made my friend very easily proof against the charms of her wit and conversation; but her beauteous form, instead of being blemished by her falfhood and inconstancy, every day increased upon him, and she had new attractions every time he saw her. When she observed WILL irrevocably her slave, she began to use him as such, and after many steps towards such a cruelty, she at last utterly banished him. The unhappy lover strove in vain, by servile epistles, to revoke his doom; till at length he was forced to the last refuge, a round sum of money to her maid. This corrupt attendant placed him early in the morning behind the hangings in her mistress's dressing-room. He stood very conveniently to observe, without being seen. The Pict begins the face the designed to wear that day, and I have heard him protest The had worked a full half hour before he knew her to be the same As soon as he saw the dawn of that