“But Dogget, who was not so wide of my meaning, clapping his hand upon mine, said, with an air of security, O! don’t trouble yourself! there must be two words to that bargain; let me alone to manage that matter.  Wilks, upon this dark discourse, grew uneasy, as if there were some secret between us that he was to be left out of.  Therefore, to avoid the shock of his intemperance, I was the town crowded to the theatre.  Even the good Queen, who must have been more or less bored at the fuss bestowed upon it, actually suggested that Mr. Addison should dedicate the tragedy to her Royal self.  To inscribe a work to a sovereign means little or nothing in these days of republicanism, real or assumed, but Anne’s request came as a great compliment It was a compliment, however, which had to be dispensed with, for Addison had already proposed to dedicate ‘Cato’ to the Duchess of Marlborough, and he harboured no wish to mortify the aggressive Sarah (now out of favour with the Queen) by acting upon the hint of her one-time friend and mistress.  So the author diplomatically ignored both horns of the dilemma, or, in other words, determined to consecrate his tragedy neither to Queen nor Duchess.”

When June was well nigh ended the Drury Lane players transplanted “Cato” to the scholarly environment of Oxford, where, as friend Cibber tells us, “a great deal of that false, flashy wit and forc’d humour,” which had been the delight of London, was rated at “its bare intrinsick value.”  The play was admirably suited to the temper of a university audience, and its success proved so great, its sentiment so uplifted, that Dr. Sandridge, Dean of Carlisle, wrote to Barton Booth expressing his wish that “all discourses from the pulpit were as instructive and edifying, as pathetic and affecting,” as those provided by Mr. Addison.

The “Apology” gives us an interesting account of the favour accorded to “Cato,” above all other modern plays, by the dwellers in thoughtful Oxford.

“The only distinguished merit allow’d to any modern writer was to the author of ‘Cato,’ which play being the flower of a plant raised in that learned garden (for there Mr. Addison had his education), what favour may we not suppose was due to him from an audience of brethren, who from that local relation to him might naturally have a warmer pleasure in their benevolence to his fame?  But not to give more weight to this imaginary circumstance than it may bear, the fact was, that on our first day of acting it, our house was in a manner invested, and entrance demanded by twelve a clock at noon, and before one it was not wide enough for many who came too late for places.  The same crowds continued for three days together (an uncommon curiosity in that place) and the death of Cato triumphed over the injuries of Caesar everywhere.  To conclude, our reception at Oxford, whatever our merit might be, exceeded our expectation.”