to be worshipped in licentious entertainments were unworthy of
divine honour._
But Scipio, were he alive, would possibly reply: "How could we attach
a penalty to that which the gods themselves have consecrated? For
the theatrical entertainments in which such things are said, and
acted, and performed, were introduced into Roman society by the
gods, who ordered that they should be dedicated and exhibited in
their honour." But was not this, then, the plainest proof that they
were no true gods, nor in any respect worthy of receiving divine
honours from the republic? Suppose they had required that in their
honour the citizens of Rome should be held up to ridicule, every
Roman would have resented the hateful proposal. How then, I would
ask, can they be esteemed worthy of worship, when they propose
that their own crimes be used as material for celebrating their
praises? Does not this artifice expose them, and prove that they are
detestable devils? Thus the Romans, though they were superstitious
enough to serve as gods those who made no secret of their desire
to be worshipped in licentious plays, yet had sufficient regard
to their hereditary dignity and virtue, to prompt them to refuse
to players any such rewards as the Greeks accorded them. On this
point we have this testimony of Scipio, recorded in Cicero: "They
[the Romans] considered comedy and all theatrical performances as
disgraceful, and therefore not only debarred players from offices and
honours open to ordinary citizens, but also decreed that their names
should be branded by the censor, and erased from the roll of their
tribe." An excellent decree, and another testimony to the sagacity
of Rome; but I could wish their prudence had been more thoroughgoing
and consistent. For when I hear that if any Roman citizen chose
the stage as his profession, he not only closed to himself every
laudable career, but even became an outcast from his own tribe, I
cannot but exclaim: This is the true Roman spirit, this is worthy of
a state jealous of its reputation. But then some one interrupts my
rapture, by inquiring with what consistency players are debarred
from all honours, while plays are counted among the honours due to
the gods? For a long while the virtue of Rome was uncontaminated
by theatrical exhibitions;[99] and if they had been adopted for
the sake of gratifying the taste of the citizens, they would have
been introduced hand in hand with the relaxation of manners. But
the fact is, that it was the gods who demanded that they should be
exhibited to gratify them. With what justice, then, is the player
excommunicated by whom God is worshipped? On what pretext can you at
once adore him who exacts, and brand him who acts these plays? This,
then, is the controversy in which the Greeks and Romans are engaged.
The Greeks think they justly honour players, because they worship the
gods who demand plays: the Romans, on the other hand, do not suffer
an actor to disgrace by his name his own plebeian tribe, far less
the senatorial order. And the whole of this discussion may be summed
up in the following syllogism. The Greeks give us the major premiss:
If such gods are to be worshipped, then certainly such men may be
honoured. The Romans add the minor: But such men must by no means be
honoured. The Christians draw the conclusion: Therefore such gods
must by no means be worshipped.