crifice the young Massinissa, to old Syphax, for the good of her Country: we ought to see her hearken as little to the scruples of Duty, in quitting Syphax, as she had done to the sentiments of Love, in losing Massinissa: we ought to see her subject the strongest Inclinations, all that binds, all that unites us, the most powerful ties, the most tender passions, to her love for Carthage, and her hatred for Rome. In a word, we ought to see her, when being utterly abandon'd, she's not wanting to her self; and when those hearts, which she had gain'd to save her Country, fail'd her expectations, to owe to her self the last support to preserve her Glory and her Liberty.
Corneille makes his Heroes speak with so exact a Decorum, that he had never given us the Conversation of Cesar with Cleopatra[1], if Cesar had believ'd that he had any work upon his hands at Alexandria, as beautiful as it is, even to that degree, as to make an amorous discourse agreeable even to indifferent persons that should hear it. He had certainly let it alone, but that the Battle of Pharsalia was fully won, Pompey dead, and all his party dissipated. As Cesar then believ'd himself to be the master of all, an Author might justly enough make him offer a Glory of which he was in full possession, and a Power, in all probability, well settled: but when he discover'd Ptolemy's Conspiracy; when he beheld his Affairs in an ill condition, and his own Life in danger, he is no more a Lover, that entertains his Mistress with his passion, but a Roman General, that acquaints the Queen with the danger that threatens them, and leaves her in haste, to provide for their common security.
- ↑ See Corneille's Pompey, Act IV. Scene III.
