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JengA SHORT HISTORY
OF THE DRAMA

By
MARTHA FLETCHER BELLINGER

NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANYCOPYRIGHT, 1927,
BY
HENRY HOLT AND.CQMPANY
ee te
°

PRINTED IN THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

PE aeeal
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To
JANIE
THE DEAREST OF COMPANIONS
AT THE PLAYose
’PREFACE

The basis of this book is a series of lectures given before
various classes and study groups, among others the Century
Theater Club of New York and the Brooklyn Institute of Arts
and Sciences. In conducting such courses I found that an
outline survey of the drama of past centuries is a necessary
preliminary to a just understanding of any play. Modern
drama especially, to be rightly estimated, needs to be aligned
beside the drama of other periods. The history of this art is
continually presenting to the student the revival of old themes,
the resurrection of stock characters, and the recurrence of stock
situations ; as a consequence what often seems strikingly orig-
inal to the novice in the art is but the reincarnation of an
ancient favorite of the boards.

I have had three main objects in the writing of the book:

I. to offer an easy narrative of the history of the art, giving
occasional attention to forms of production and to theories
of construction, but in the main trying to tell who the chief
playwrights were and what they tried to do;

2. to supply a book which could handily be used as a reference
work by critics, teachers, playwrights and students generally ;

3. to indicate here and there the effective results gained by
criticism, by conscious efforts on the part of reformers, or
by the more or less organized revolt against established
forms.

So far as has been possible I have read representative plays;
and while sometimes bewildered by the difference of opinion
among scholars of repute concerning certain plays and move-
ments, I have generally come to the conclusion that my readers
would enjoy best having the varied opinions set before them
and being allowed to judge for themselves. In the Supplement
I have supplied a short reading list of books about the drama ;

ts
)
3
¥,v1 PREFACE

also a chronological list of the chief playwrights of each period
with dates and the titles of important plays.

I wish here to thank the many authors whose opinions I have
consulted. I wish also to express my acknowledgments to
several librarians and their assistants, especially to those of
Columbia University, of the University of Chicago, and of the
Public Library of New York City, for lendiy help and the
opportunity of seeing unusual books and pamphlets. My
sincere thanks go to a friend and a classical scholar, Henrietta
Josephine Meeteer, Ph.D., formerly head of the classical de-
partment at Swarthmore Col lege; to Roy C. Flickinger, Ph.D.,
head of the classical department at Northwestern University,
both of whom have made valuable suggestions and corrections ;
and to my husband, Franz Bellinger, Ph.D., for constant help
in the preparation of the manuscript. It is unnecessary to add
that no one of these helpers is responsible for whatever opin-
ions or errors may appear.

In so brief a history many interesting playwrights must
either be omitted or too sketchily considered; but I have tried
to present the pageant of play-acting from its human and
charming side. My sincere hope is that the story here set
forth may enhance the pleasure of going to the play, and may
perhaps arouse an appreciation of the rich background w hich
lies behind even the most unpretentious theatrical entertain-
ment.

iM. E.. B:
Wayne, Maine.
June, 1927.CONTENTS

SECTION ONE: UNCONSCIOUS DRAMA AND

CHAPTER

re
Mh

IIT.

Vile
VII.

Vit

X.
le

PRIMITIVE LEGENDS

DANCING AND PLAyY-ACTING :

How THE STORY-ITELLERS SUPPLIED DRA-
MATIC THEMES . 3 :

How THE PLAy-ACTOR AND THE STORY-
TELLER COMBINED TO MAKE DRAMA

SECTION Two: CLAssic DRAMA

AESCHYLUS, THE First GREAT PLAYWRIGHT

SoPpHOCLES, THE Most POLISHED OF THE
TraAcic PoETS

“EURIPIDES, THE HUMAN”

ARISTOPHANES AND THE GREEK COMEDY
WRITERS i

ARISTOTLE, CLASSIC TECHNIQUE, AND THE
LATER GREEK DRAMA

GREEK PLots, THEATRES, COMPETITIONS,
AND AUDIENCES

How GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

Horace, RoMAN SPECTACLES, AND THE DE-
CAY OF THE CLASsIC DRAMA

SECTION THREE: DRAMA OF THE ORIENT

XII. InpIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN . ‘ ;

SECTION Four: DRAMA OF THE MIDDLE AGES

XIII. A TuHousanp YEARS OF QUIESCENCE AND

THE BEGINNINGS OF SACRED DRAMA
Vil

PAGE

7
ef)

ais Ca)
Cy

115

ee nod ugottts . ™vill
CHAPTER

XIV.

XV.
XVI.

CONTENTS
MysTERIES AND MIRACLES ON THE CON-
TINENT
MvsTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND

MorALITIES, INTERLUDES, AND FARCES OF
THE MIDDLE AGES

SEecTION FIVE: THE GROWTH OF NATIONAL

XVII.
XVIII.
XIX.
XX.
XXI.

DRAMA

NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

CoMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE I700

Tue Kinps oF ENGLIsH DRAMA BEFORE
1700

ELIZABETHAN Pxiay-HovuseEs, ACTORS, AND
AUDIENCES

THE SCHOLAR POETS : : :

SHAKESPEARE . : A é ;

SEcTION S1x: MODERN EUROPEAN AND AMERICAN

XXV.

XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVIII.

XXIX.

DRAMA
Tue First HALF OF THE SEVENTEENTH
CENTURY IN ENGLAND
THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND .
Tue EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN FRANCE,
ITALY, AND SPAIN
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN GERMANY
AND SCANDINAVIA ‘ : ; ;
FRANCE: 1800-1875
THE VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDE-
CESSORS ‘ 2 : é :

PAGE

147
159

167

280
292

302CHAPTER

XXXII.

XXXIV.
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVII.
XXXVIII.

CONTENTS
GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY, AND SCANDI-
NAVIA: 1800-1875 : : : ‘ :

IBSEN, STRINDBERG, AND THE DRAMATIC
AWAKENING : : ‘ :

THE LAst FIFTY YEARS ON THE CONTINENT

Tue Last Firry YEARS IN ENGLAND AND
IRELAND : : : : : :

DRAMA IN RUSSIA . ‘ ‘ ; : :

DRAMA IN AMERICA ‘ ; 2 - :

LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA . : :

A BriEF READING LIST FOR STUDENTS OF
THE DRAMA

A SUPPLEMENT CONTAINING A CHRONOLOG-
ICAL List OF PLAYWRIGHTS, WITH DATES
AND REPRESENTATIVE PLAYS : :

INDEX A : : , é ; s :

ix
PAGE

310

317
326

338

W
aS
N

®W W
OV U1
1fish OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Edith Wynne Matthison as Medea .. . Frontispiece
FACING PAGE

Setting for the Garden Scene, The Little GlayiGari. | LOG

Mystery-stage in the 16th Century . - + + -: 126
Jesus and the Apostles. From the Oberammergau Pas-

SION eiay, : : ; : ‘ = 126
WINEIOWIAG OF TRAST. 9 ee ln BF
Mrs. Fisk in Sheridan’s The Rivals. . ‘ ; , 200
Firmin Gemier as Mephistopheles in Faust. ; 5 (288
Interior, by Maurice Maeterlinck . . « - » 832
The Dybbuk as produced by the “Habima” Troupe . 5. 246

The Playmakers Theatre, Chapel Hill, North Carolina . 370SECTION ONE

UNCONSCIOUS DRAMA AND PRIMITIVE
LEGENDS;
ifCHAPTER I
DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING

Religious Dances, it may be observed, are sometimes ecstatic,
sometimes pantomimic. . . . Pantomimic dances, with their effort
to heighten natural expression and to imitate natural process, bring
the dancers into the divine sphere of creation and enable them to
assist vicariously in the energy of the gods. The dance thus be-
comes the presentation of a divine drama.—Havetock EL is, The
Dance of Life.

Among certain peoples of the Malay Peninsula, there is
sometimes enacted a play which has for its subject the pun-
ishment of coquetry. A young girl appears, wreathed with
flowers and ready for the dance. She is looking for a husband.
A youth approaches with gifts for her, and sings of birds, sun-
shine, and the joys of wedded love. She does not listen, but
with a toss of her head she dances away. Still entreating her
the youth follows; but she eludes him, and he retires in con-
fusion and anger. A second admirer comes on, and a third;
but each is rejected by the reckless maiden, who flouts their
offerings and humiliates them. Presently the situation 1s
changed by the appearance of three other young girls, who
quickly capture the disappointed suitors and dance off with
them. The girl then sees her mistake and begins to cry. At
sight of her contrition the first man returns and renews his
suit; but this time he proposes to make her his second wife
only; and with this offer she has to be content.

Drama defined. It requires no great stretch of imagination
to link this bit of primitive play-acting with the art of the
drama as we know it today. The single “scene” described
above may be given without any special setting or costumes,
without music, footlights, prompter, or scenery. In its whole
length no word need be spoken for its complete understanding.

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4 DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING

It is a story told by imitation. Every play, from this little
drama of slighted love to Hamlet or The Emperor Jones, is
composed of the two elements: story or literary element, and
imitation or play-acting. In pantomimes and farces the play-
acting element is more important; but sometimes, especially in
decadent eras, the literary element is given the greater promi-
nence, and we have closet drama and problem plays. It is
evident that in the ideal play the good story will be combined
with the opportunity for good pantomime. When that end is
achieved, we have, for example, an Gdipus or a Cyrano de
Bergerac. In its essentials, therefore, the art of drama is sim-
ply telling a story by means of imitation.

Dancing, with mimicry, is one of the ancient accomplishments
of man, inseparably connected with religion, warfare, the get-
ting of wives and the getting of food. The movements of
animals were imitated, costumes and masks were devised, the
cries of the young were skilfully repeated. Since death was
often associated with the idea of reincarnation in the form of
some animal, it was but natural that many primitive rituals,
intended to ensure protection for the living, should imitate the
movements and cries of beasts.

A further incentive to imitation and play-acting was the
wide-spread belief in sympathetic magic, which is based on the
idea that the imitation of an event will bring that event to
pass. When the savage wants rain, he climbs a tree and goes
through the motions of pouring water from a bucket upon the
ground. A second performer strikes two stones together to
represent thunder, while a third waves a firebrand until the
sparks fly in imitation of lightning. If a warrior wishes the
death of an enemy, he makes a clay image and sticks it full
of thorns and nails. If the hunter wishes to enlist the help
of the gods he pretends to chase his prey, and when the vic-
tim is caught he goes through the motions of killing and skin-
ning him. Thus the image of the deed is made, and the ac-
tuality will soon follow.’

A play called The Battle of the Corn is an Indian ritual de-

1 Several of the illustrations used in this chapter have been taken from
The Drama of Savage Peoples, by Loomis Havemeyer.DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING 5

signed to win the favor of the gods in whose hands lies the
prosperity of the crop. A slight setting is arranged, the front
of which is made to represent roughly a field of maize. On
the background are painted the symbols of the tribe. The per-
formance begins by the appearance of angry demons represent-
ing Hail, Drought, Storm, and the like. These devils rush in,
trampling down and destroying the grain. Presently come the
owners of the field, hastening to the rescue of their crops.
They attack the demons and wrestle with them, until at last
the struggle becomes a pitched battle. A wounded demon falls,
yelling in pain, and the defenders spring forward with renewed
energy. A mortal falls, and the demons dance for joy. Just
as the triumph of the devils seems assured, a new champion
comes into the fight on the side of the rescuers, and the tide is
turned. The weary men gather their strength for one more
onslaught, the evil forces are put to rout and the crop is saved.
This play, though more complex than many primitive scenes,
can of course be performed entirely without words.

War dances. Rituals preceding wars often take the form
of rather elaborate pantomimes, also based upon the idea of
sympathetic magic. The dancers pretend to steal upon their
foes, to discover and chase them, finally to slaughter them and
join in the march of victory. These ceremonies are often like
the pictures painted round a vase, merely a succession of inci-
dents that might begin anywhere. Sometimes, however, a more
subtle arrangement is contrived, with the outlines of a real
plot. From one of the tribes of Sumatra comes a war play
with a dramatic situation, though still no words are required.
The scene is some distance from the place where a battle has
been in progress. A weary warrior sits on the ground, pluck-
ing a thorn from his foot. His weapons are lying near, and
he keeps a sharp lookout. In spite of his watchfulness, how-
ever, one of the enemy (supposedly) creeps up stealthily from
behind and attacks him. He makes what defense he is able,
but he is soon overcome, receiving the death wound and going
through gruesome contortions. At last his head is cut off and
the victor holds it up in triumph; but, as now for the first
time the assailant has a clear view of the face, he discovers

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my6 DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING

that he has killed not one of the enemy, but his own brother.
There follows a lengthy portrayal of grief and remorse.

Primitive plays a school for youth. Play-acting and danc-
ing occupy an important place in the social system of many
tribes. There exist mystic societies, in possession of tribal se-
crets, initiation into which is a solemn ritual. The selected
candidates, generally boys of suitable birth and skill, having
arrived at the proper age, are cleansed by ceremonial and
brought into the presence of the elders. With dancing, music,
and pantomime, the instructors then enact the legends con-
cerning their famous warriors and huntsmen. In some cases
these exercises extend over a period of years and include a
whole system of education for youth. In each dance or pan-
tomime there is a sermon, or a lesson in geography, history, or
craftsmanship.

One of the strange dramatic relics from the remote past is a
“kind of nocturnal Egyptian Passion Play.” ? It is the por-
trayal of the struggle between Osiris, god of light, and Set,
god of darkness, and was enacted at night on the shore of a
lake near the great temple at Sais. It was given with pomp and
splendor, Osiris being robed in white, and the whole perform-
ance carried on to the accompaniment of music. Set, the
enemy, hunts down the carrier of light and buries him beneath
the waters of the lake: but Horus, son of Osiris, avenges the
death of his father in a bloody battle. After the combat,
Osiris again appears as the ruler of the shadow land of death.
The symbolism of the conquest of Day by Night is obvious:
and perhaps the still deeper symbolism of the conquest of Good
by Evil, with the final rescue of the Good.

Certain ceremonies are of the nature of elaborate prayers
for favorable weather and protection from disaster. One of
the most noted of these ceremonies is the Rain Dance of the
Hopi Indians. It is in reality a complex and highly symbolic
play, lasting at least nine days and requiring for its perform-
ance some twenty warriors, all of whom must belong to cer-
tain tribes. There is the representation of a long series of
events, the essential feature of which is the journey of a “stain-

* Edward A. MacDowell, Critical and Historical Essays.DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING 7

less youth” to the underworld, in order to learn the secret of
the rain.

One of the first adjuncts to the early dancing ceremonies was
the drum, or some other simple percussion instrument, with
which to mark the rhythm. Sometimes the audience sang or
clapped, while the braves went through the movements of the
dance. The next step was the use of chanting, the singing of
appropriate songs, and the elaboration of the instrumental
music.

The Dionysiac procession. To the historian of the drama
the most important of all early rituals were the dithyrambic
choruses and dances with which the festivals of Dionysus were
celebrated by the Greeks. We know comparatively little about
them. Looking back in the light of later developments, how-
ever, we can see that there were two groups of participants :
those in the sacrificial processions through whom tragedy de-
veloped; and the bacchanalian revelers through whom, a little
later, developed comedy. The former were dressed in goat
skins and represented the companions of the god. Singing the
dithyrambic hymn they marched to the altar and sacrificed a
goat. It may have been true also that certain incidents in the
life of Dionysus were enacted, and that one of the leaders of
the procession himself impersonated the god. The second
group of participants was called the komos (comus). The
members of this group also paraded at the Dionysiac festivals,
acted out crude farcical incidents, and imitated coarse episodes.
Up to the middle of the seventh century before our era, these
Greek ceremonies were probably in no way superior to many
other examples of unconscious drama. In them, as in nearly
all the early rituals, the three arts of singing, dancing and
play-acting were combined.

Significance of unconscious drama. These few examples il-
lustrate perhaps fully enough the extent and character of the
great body of “unconscious drama,” a large portion of which
must have come into existence long before the art of writing
was commonly known. The plays were often more or less
improvised; though the tendency was, of course, for them to
settle into form as they were handed down from one genera-

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8 DANCING AND PLAY-ACTING

tion to the next. As they were witnessed ‘n the beginning of
history, so they may be seen today among Indians and other
tribal peoples. Unlike most of the plays produced on what we
call the civilized stages of the world, the unconscious dramas
were always given for some purpose other than entertainment.
Usually they were a part of a religious ritual in which the tribe
more or less participated. There was little distinction between
spectators and performers. Lessons in conduct were incul-
cated, the history of the tribe was taught, the principles of
courage and honor were exemplified. Most of the religious
ideas familiar today,—such as the belief in a Spirit, in the
power of intercession, in immortality, and in the appearance
of a Saviour for the tribe,—these were all portrayed. Fur-
thermore, the subjects used were the same subjects which are
in use today: the fight of man against fate or against great
odds; the warfare of sex; the tragedy of mistaken vengeance;
the symbolic presentation of the changes from night to day, or
from winter to spring.

The art of the stage is rooted in these practices of primitive
peoples, from whom the play-actor learned the making and use
of disguises, the manner of painting the body or draping it
with skins, the way to use animal faces and heads, the making
of headdresses and masks, and the imitation of the sounds of
animals and of nature. The early ceremonies were the school
for historic drama, and the stories told by tribesmen are the
very stories which have been told and retold on the stages of
the world. Moreover, while civilized drama has had long peri-
ods of quiescence, seeming to have disappeared, unconscious
drama has persisted.

7CHAPTER II

HOW THE STORY-TELLERS SUPPLIED
DRAMATIC THEMES

In books lies the soul of the whole past time: the articulate,
audible voice of the past, when the body and material substance
of it has altogether vanished like a dream.—THoMAsS CARLYLE.

However interesting may be the unconscious drama of primi-
tive peoples, there is nevertheless a wide gap between it and
the conscious art of the historic stage. Unsophisticated play-
acting needed the cross fertilization of a sister art—that of the
story-teller—before the new art of the drama could be created.
This new art was a fusion of play-acting and story-telling:
masterpieces of epic poetry interpreted by masters of imitation.
Long before the playwright appeared the pantomime and the
epic had reached a high degree of perfection; and when the
playwright at last came, he was little troubled about the in-
vention of plots. He took what he thought good, from what-
ever source offered itself. He was in a sense a composite prod-
uct of the play-actor and the story-teller, both of whom were
most interested in portraying an exciting experience. Now a
fight, a conflict, is the most exciting experience in the world;
and primitive legends all have for their subject some sort of
struggle,—men against gods or demons, heroes against the ene-
mies of the tribe, rebels against tyrants, laws of god against
the commands of men. Conflicts such as these became the
prime material of the playwright.

Chief sources of story material used in drama, There are
four principal sources from which the playwrights of various
periods have drawn material for their plots or fables. They
are (1) the ancient mythologies; (2) the Bible and other
sacred books, together with the associated legends about saints
and holy places; (3) tales of chivalry and knighthood, Italian

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{IO HOW THE STORY-TELLERS

novelle, and the like, all generally grouped together under the
name of medieval romances; (4) chronicles and other historical
records. These four groups are not of course mutually ex-
clusive. They overlap at many points; but asa working classi-
fication they will serve.

Mythology. In many nations there exist legends, half heroic
and half religious, which appear to have preceded the begin-
nings of written literature. These legends were preserved,
probably often much improved, and handed down to succeed-
ing generations by professional story-tellers, whose business it
was to entertain the court, the camp, or the marketplace. In
Greece these story-tellers were called rhapsodes, in northern
countries skalds, in Celtic countries bards, in medieval Europe
minstrels or gleemen. Through these bards were disseminated
legends going back to the dawn of history, exaggerated re-
ports of commonplace events, or sometimes the composite rec-
ord of several tribal heroes whose exploits came to be ascribed
to a single popular figure. Patriotism, self-sacrifice, pride, and
courage were favorite themes.

One of the earliest examples of this class is the story of Job.
Its text, as we have it in the Bible, is probably corrupted by
numerous additions and deletions. As it stands, it appears to
belong as much to drama as to pure literature; and it seems
likely, as certain biblical scholars hold, that its author intended
it to be enacted, but was opposed by the Jewish priesthood. It
offers a good deal of spirited dialogue, thereby differing from
most of the examples of unconscious drama described in the
first chapter. Though Job is a work of religious speculation,
yet the changes of situation, the suspense, the strokes of mis-
fortune and the subsequent relief are of the nature of drama,
and excellent drama at that. Beneath the outward struggle of
the hero are speculations upon the nature of God, his relation-
ship to man, and the purposes for which men live and die. In
it are many eloquent passages upon the beauty and wonders of
nature ; there are pathos, irony, wit. The combination of play-
acting quality, good story, and sombre strength make the same

1 Produced in America about 1912 by Mr. Stuart Walker.SUPPLIED DRAMATIC THEMES II

appeal on the stage today that they might have made some
thirty centuries ago.

Of all the ancient mythologies, that of the Greeks has been
most freely drawn upon by playwrights. During the time of
Solon and the Pisistratide (sixth century, B.c.) the national
legends and myths were collected into what was known as the
Epic Cycle, considerable portions of which have now been lost.
This Cycle included the history of the Trojan War, the legends
of the House of Atreus (the Atride), of Laius and Cdipus
(the Labdacide), of Hercules, Ajax, Philoctetes, Jason and
the Golden Fleece, besides many other well known stories. By
ancient writers this Epic Cycle was commonly attributed to
Homer. At the period when the effort towards preserving the
myths was being made, the Persians were threatening; and
within a generation they had actually invaded Grecian terri-
tory. The dissemination of the legends undoubtedly had its
effect in arousing the spirit of national pride, and in thus help-
ing the Greeks to resist the invasions of what was then the
dominant oriental power.

For the historian of drama, however, the important point is
that all but one of the extant Greek tragedies are based upon
incidents related in the Epic Cycle. Even concerning the lost
plays, there is record of only two or three cases, in the entire
history of Greek tragedy, when the Homeric poems were not
used as a source book. Sometimes a slight episode, occupying
but a few lines in the poem, was elaborated into a full length
play; sometimes new characters were invented and associated
with the well known hero; and sometimes the entire emphasis
was changed, so that a minor character in the poem became the
hero of the play.

Let us glance for a moment at some of the stories contained
in the Epic Cycle. Probably the most used of all the stories of
the world is that of the House of Atreus. It contains the
great characters of Agamemnon, Clytemnestra, Electra, Ores-
tes, Cassandra, and Iphigenia, as well as some of the most fa-
mous scenes of all literature. The Oresteia of A‘schylus, the
only complete trilogy extant, is built upon it. Sophocles, Eu-12 HOW THE STORY-TELLERS

ripides, Voltaire, Alfieri, and Dryden all wrote plays upon the
single theme of the revenge of Orestes; and this list includes
only the most distinguished names. The sacrifice of Iphigenia
has tempted the giants of literature, being used at least once by
Sophocles, twice by Euripides, and twice by Goethe. The
Latin poets, Nzvius and Ennius, composed tragedies on the
subject. The play of Euripides called Iphigema in Aulis was
translated into Latin by Erasmus in 1524. An Italian version
appeared in 1560. At least three French versions of the same
play appeared during the seventeenth century before Racine
wrote his [phigénie. Gluck’s opera, based on the play of
Racine, was performed in 1674. The play of Euripides was
translated into German by Schiller, and many English versions
have been made. More than twenty operatic compositions, be-
sides that of Gluck, have been made with the Aulis plays as a
basis, while nearly a dozen composers have essayed to put the
Tauris story into operatic form.

The myth of the Labdacide has proved almost equally fer-
tile as a source of play material. It includes the CGedipus legend,
and supplies us with the deathless character of Antigone.
Three of the most admired of the extant plays of Sophocles
were founded on it. A‘schylus, Euripides, Voltaire, and many
lesser poets have drawn upon it for dramatic themes. As in
the myth of the Atridz, the situations can be so transformed
in their moral implications as to afford a variety of plots.

The story of Prometheus furnished A*schylus material for a
trilogy, and gave Shelley one of his greatest subjects. The
myths of Hercules and Hippolytus, each, formed the basis for
plays by Sophocles, Euripides, Seneca, and Racine. The three
greatest Greek playwrights used in turn each of the following
stories: the return of the Trojan captives, the Argonautic Ex-
pedition with its story of Medea, the fate of Andromache, the
legends of Ajax, Hecuba, and Helen. Nine other myths were
used by both A%schylus and Sophocles. When national drama,
in different countries, began to take shape after the Renais-
sance, these Greek plots were rewritten again and again by
French and Italian writers of tragedy; and the poets of today
are still using the same themes.SUPPLIED DRAMATIC THEMES 13

Sacred books as sources of plots. The famous myths and
symbolical legends of the Orient, in many cases, are embedded
in what are known as the sacred books. The Asiatic play best
known to Europeans, Sakuntala, is founded upon events re-
lated in the sacred book of the Hindus, the Mahabharata. The
No plays of Japan are uniformly founded upon legends con-
nected with sacred shrines and holy people. Many of the char-
acters in the long oriental plays have powers far exceeding
those of mere mortals, and are looked upon, by the populace at
least, as partaking more or less of the divine nature. The
most striking illustration, however, of the use of sacred litera-
ture as a source for play material is in the drama of the Middle
Ages, which was based on Bible stories and the traditions con-
nected with the lives of saints. Professor Flickinger has
pointed out that what the Homeric poems were to the Greek
dramatists, the Bible and biblical legends were to the makers
of pageants, miracles, and mysteries during the six centuries
when these forms of entertainment flourished in England and
Central Europe.

Medieval romances. The third great source of plot material
consists of epics and legends collected in different countries
during the Middle Ages. As the rhapsodes. had traveled about
Greece reciting the Homeric poems, so the skalds, gleemen, and
minstrels of Europe went from court to court, or from baronial
hall to feudal fortress, chanting their songs, and relating their
tales of love, death, and glory on the field of battle. There is
a known list of two hundred and thirty skalds who flourished
between the eighth and thirteenth centuries. Their songs fill
more than two hundred volumes. The two Eddas—the Elder
Edda in unrhymed verse, and the Younger Edda in prose—
recite the story of Sigurd, Brunhild, the Volsungs, and the
Rhinegold. In Germany the Middle Ages produced the Book
of Heroes (Heldenbuch) and the Song of the Nibelungs, with
the stories of Attila, Theodoric the Great, Siegfried, called the
Achilles of the North, Brunhild, Hagen and Gunther. Among
the romances of chivalry are those relating to King Arthur and
the Knights of the Round Table, those centering about Amadis
of Gaul, and still a third relating to the court of Charlemagne

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;14 HOW THE STORY-TELLERS

and his Paladins. Dramatic and full of beauty and symbolism
as these tales are, they have so far been much less used than
the myths of Greece.

In Spain, where the institution of chivalry took firmest root,
the thrilling tales of Don Roderigo and other knights fill more
than seventy volumes. These old romances expressed, in a
special way, religious and national characteristi¢s, and fur-
nished material not only for Spanish writers, but for dramatists
of other countries. Botta describes this wealth of literary ma-
terial as “a mine which has unceasingly been wrought by the
rest of Europe for similar purposes, and which still remains
unexhausted.”

In many countries, heroic tales crystallized into epic poems;
but in Italy they, with romantic legends of all sorts, were gath-
ered into novelle, or short prose novels. Stories, already cur-
rent for generations, were retold with witty and often ribald
additions, and in time were turned into such collections as the
Decameron, and so disseminated all over Europe. The Decam-
eron, consisting of one hundred lively tales, was published in
Italy in 1353. Not only Italian playwrights, but, in the course
of time, the greatest writers of England, Denmark, and France
borrowed from these stores of romance. In 1566 William
Paynter published sixty of the Decameron stories in English
under the title The Palace of Pleasure; and in a few years
thirty more of the novels were printed in England. As is well
known, the story of Romeo and Juliet, as well as several situa-
tions in other plays, were taken by Shakespeare from Italian
sources; and the germ of many a character, now familiar to
every reader of English drama, may be found either in Boc-
caccio, Cinthio, or some other Italian novelist.

The Arabs never developed a drama of their own, but from
ancient times they were famous for their professional story-
tellers. Jinns, fairies, demons, and beautiful female spirits,
called Peris, lived in these Arabian romances, together with the
characters which inhabit the world of trade and barter. This
oriental background has had a perennial fascination for drama-
tists; but it has so far proved difficult to reproduce success-
fully on the stages of the western world.SUPPLIED DRAMATIC THEMES 15

History as plot material. The fourth and last great source
of plot material lies in the historians and chroniclers, espe-
cially Plutarch, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Holinshed, and Stow.
The first Italian tragedy of the Renaissance, Sofonisba, is
based on a story found in Livy; but it was Plutarch who in-
spired the greater number of modern European playwrights.
He was born in Cheronea, Greece, about 46 a.p., and wrote
studies of forty-six Lives in which, in every case, a Roman
was made to parallel a Greek. The Lives, familiar now to
every school child, were first translated into English by Sir
Thomas North and published in 1579. North made his trans-
lation from the French version of Amyot.

Geoffrey of Monmouth, who died about 1152, was possibly
a Benedictine monk; he was certainly made Bishop of St.
Asaph not long before his death. It appears that he was at
Oxford in the year 1129, at which time he was probably al-
ready at work on his Historia Regum Britannia, or History of
the Kings of Britain. Two editions, and two translations, of
this work made their appearance during the twelfth century,
and many later chroniclers seem to have regarded it as a vera-
cious account of early British history. It was written in Latin,
translated into Anglo-Norman, and back again into “semi-
Saxon or transitional English.” More than one Elizabethan
writer drew upon Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia before
Shakespeare found therein the weird story of “King Leir.”

Raphael Holinshed, the most important among the authors of
Chronicles of England, Scotland and Ireland, died about 1580.
The work was probably begun about 1548, and two editions
were published during the sixteenth century, the first in 1578.
Holinshed and the other contributors to the Chronicles drew
upon Geoffrey of Monmouth to some extent. John Stow,
1525-1604, was the son of a tailor and an all-round, competent
historian for his time. He produced A Summary of English
Chronicles in 1561, translated and published the Chronicle of
Matthew Paris in 1571, and the Historia Brevis of Thomas
Walsingham a few years later. His Survey of London ap-
peared only two years before the end of the century. The
work which was of most interest to playwrights, however, was16 HOW THE STORY-TELLERS

probably his Annales, or a Generale Chronicle of England
from Brute until the present yeare of Christ 1580.

The facts in these and other chronicles were often mixed
with invention and superstitious ideas; but they formed a gold-
mine for dramatists, especially for those of the time of Eliza-
beth. Out of them came Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet, Tambur-
laine, The Jew of Malta, and a score of other plays. Shake-
speare rarely ever used contemporaneous plot material, but he
crept up rather close to his own time in Henry Viti Other
writers took curious events, such as would today make merely
a newspaper headline, and transposed them into terms of
drama. The stories of the Cid and of Faust, half legendary
and half historical, traveled abroad, the one from Spain and
the other from Germany, finding important dramatizers in for-
eign countries.

The four groups, thus briefly indicated, give an idea of the
richness of the reservoir from which the playwrights of twenty
centuries have drawn a large proportion of their plots, situa-
tions and characters. The classic poets ignored all sources but
the first; the makers of the sacred drama of the Middle Ages
ignored all but the second. Dramatists of the Renaissance,
and especially the Elizabethans, widened and enlarged the field
until at last the world of the stage, at its best, was all but as
broad as the field of life itself. Modern plays are not better
plays, in themselves, than the ancient masterpieces; but the
modern stage, taken by and large, exhibits a greater variety
of character, a wider range of problems, than the stage of any
earlier time.

Characteristic themes of the story-tellers. The themes which
occupied the play-actors of primitive peoples, we found, were
those connected with war, hunting, the getting of food, and, to
a slighter degree, the getting of wives. There were exhibi-
tions of rebellion against authority, the salvation of the tribe
by the suffering of innocence, and the exaltation of family or
tribal traditions. These themes were also part of the stock in
trade of the professional story-teller. In the course of our
study we shall have to name and rename these world-themes :

a.SUPPLIED DRAMATIC THEMES 17

taking vengeance for personal or family wrongs, every form
of chase and struggle, patriotism, family feuds, romantic love
(this especially in modern times), the adventures of national
and tribal heroes, and the fight against real or fancied tyranny.

The actors in these struggles, both in primitive plays and
in primitive legends, included supernatural beings, gods and
demons, wrestlers, warriors and champions, ambitious tyrants
and overconfident kings. Not until modern times was the
middle-class or low-born person introduced into the serious
drama of any nation. In comedy, however, slaves, traders,
parasites and the like have always found a place. The affairs
of women, and women characters, for many centuries were of
little interest to the playwrights. For one character such as
Antigone or Phedra, there were certainly a score of salient
male characters. In both unconscious drama and in legends
there has been perpetuated the memory of practices which, in
Europe at least, long ago disappeared: such, for example, as
the habit of infant exposure, or instances of the marriage of
brother and sister.

Importance of national and historical themes. History has
constantly been remade by the playwright; or, if not remade, at
least illuminated with a light more dazzling and alluring than
that of the historian. Who would know or care about Lear
or Tamburlaine, were it not for a few pages engrossed with
gorgeous poetry and burning with passion? Kings, warriors,
and local champions have acquired a universal quality, a halo
of symbolism, which they never had in life or in the pages of
the historian. As national monuments, these creations are of
importance. When national ideals were forming, they helped
to establish a heroic tradition. They supplied a kind of train-
ing school, a standard of thought and conduct. Schlegel says:
“A single monument, like that of the Cid, is more valuable to
the people than whole libraries of wit and genius without na-
tional associations.”

General progress of the art. The growth of the dramatic
art has not been a continuous advance from rudimentary forms
towards an ever increasing standard of perfection; rather, its
progress has been through sudden spurts of achievement fol-

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18 SUPPLIED DRAMATIC THEMES

lowed by a return to almost primitive forms. The first period
produced plays perfect in their own way; the last period can
do no more. If the advance of the art were to be roughly
represented by a chart, it would show a gradually rising line,
with several breaks for mountain peaks.

Athens England 16th —17th!
6th B.C. pres

Japan 16th France
14th

THE CHART OF DRAMA

The highest of these breaks, or mountain peaks, represent
the achievements of Greece, Spain, Elizabethan England, and
France. Smaller but still remarkable peaks stand for India in
the fourth century and Japan in the fourteenth. On the whole,
the trend of the art has been upward. Those periods are im-
portant in which new subjects, new ideas of national character,
more complex situations, and greater technical skill have ap-
peared. If we find it interesting to ask: What sort of man
did the ancients admire? How will a man act when driven by
ambition or fear or selfishness or love? Is anything, in the
heart of man, stronger than self-interest? If we are desirous
of asking these and similar questions, it is in drama that we
shall find answers.CHAPTER III

HOW THE PLAY-ACTOR AND THE STORY-
TELLER COMBINED TO MAKE DRAMA

Let us not deceive ourselves. Art is indissolubly bound up with
men’s spiritual forces. What we learn from... the Athens of
Socrates is this: that art is able to assert man’s moral nature at
moments when it seems in other spheres to have been paralyzed or
vitiated. —J. AppINcTon SyMmonps, The Renaissance in Italy.

We have already spoken of the Greek Dionysiac festivals,
and how, roughly speaking, there were two groups of cele-
brants: the goat-singers (tragodoi) from whose hymns and
ceremonies developed tragedy; and the group of revelers
(komos) through whom, at a slightly later date, comedy devel-
oped. The hymn sung by the goat chorus in the sacrificial
procession was called the dithyramb, and at first it was prob-
ably little more than a crude drinking song, often improvised.
Arion, who flourished about 625 B.c., appears to have organ-
ized it into a hymn with a prescribed form and meter. By
tradition the dithyrambic chorus numbered fifty voices and was
accompanied by the flute. The subjects of the verse were al-
ways episodes from the life of Dionysus, the god of the vine,
of music, and of poetry. It is supposed that the leader, with
the singers, must often have indulged in pantomimic exercises
suited to the story.

In the meantime, while the dithyrambic chorus was taking
definite shape, the Homeric legends were becoming more and
more familiar through th recitations of the rhapsodes, who
were we me guests at the c yurts of kings, at banquets, in the
camps iu at popular festivals. The tales which they sung or
recited were of long-forgotten battles, of Olympian gods, and
of superhuman heroes. Thus in Greece, during the sixth and
fifth centuries before our era, the play-actors and the story-
tellers encountered each other, with mutual profit. The bards

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20 HOW PLAY-ACTOR AND STORY-TELLER

furnished the plots, while the Dionysiac revelers or worshipers
did the mumming; with the result that the unconscious drama
of earlier days leaped suddenly into a more complex art. The
sum of the two arts, however, unlike the sum in arithmetic,
was more than the two put together,—it was a new creation.
One by one the Greek legends were refashioned. The strug-
gle of the hero was made to stand out against a background of
singing and dancing, “turning points” were emphasized, the
climax was prepared for and rounded out. Nietzsche has
pointed out, in The Birth of Tragedy, the combination of what
he called the Dionysian and the Apollonian elements, that is,
the choral and the epic. The singing of the chorus, with the
dancing, became the framework within which the given
story unfolded itself. Character took on a new importance,
irrelevant or inartistic details of the original legend were
slurred over or omitted, and each story was constructed with
an eye to design, “with a beginning, a middle, and an end.”
The designer was the playwright. Furthermore, each detail
of the story was contrived in such a way as to be interpreted
by the play-actor, with the help of singers and dancers, and the
whole performance was then shifted to a public dancing place
near the shrine of Dionysus. The spectators no longer took
part in the performance, which now became partly a religious
ceremony, partly an entertainment given by playwright and
actors, and exposed to the admiration, indifference, or censure
of the crowd. The play, formerly improvised, was now care-
fully planned and written down. Dancers and actors were
gradually differentiated ; and through this differentiation
evolved the professional actor. These changes, naturally, came
about only by a series of steps, some of which can be traced.
Thespis. If tradition were to be taken literally, Thespis
should be accounted as the Barnum of his age; for to him
have been accredited striking innovations in the way of enter-
tainment. His actual achievements, however, are sufficiently
important. He belonged to the sixth century B.c., and came
from Icaria, an important center of Dionysian worship. It is
probable that he was a leader of one of the dithyrambic cho-
ruses; and his chief service to drama was the “invention” of theCOMBINED TO MAKE DRAMA 21

actor, or answerer (hypocritos), whose business it was to im-
personate in turn each of the characters about whom the leader
of the chorus was talking. Of course the play-actor had ex-
isted long before the time of Thespis; but with a difference.
The primitive play-actor was one of a group, whose main busi-
ness was the ritual prescribed. Skill was of secondary impor-
tance. The actor, as he now for the first time made his ap-
pearance, was a specialized performer, taking a part which lay
far beyond the powers of the other participants. It was “in-
vention” of the actor in the sense that a crude and haphazard
custom was lifted out of the class of primitive activities and
placed where it could develop into a fine art.

About the time of Thespis (but whether inaugurated by him
we do not know) other important changes were made in the
practice of Dionysian worship. Until then it is probable that
events in the life of Dionysus always formed the subject of the
dithyrambic hymn; now other themes, especially those embod-
ied in the Homeric poems, were introduced. The performance
was not improvised, as formerly, but planned out in advance;
and the metrical form of the verse, which had been trochaic,
was changed to iambic. The Thespian show also seems to have
been the first to travel from place to place; though it is most
likely that the performances were always given at the Dionysiac
shrines and around an altar.

The Thespian play. Simple indeed was this first attempt at
drama, and yet in principle quite different from the informal
plays described in the first chapter. First appeared the actor,
who delivered a short explanatory speech telling who the char-
acters were in the coming play, where the action was supposed
to take place, and, most likely also, what the point was. The
chorus (which for some time after Thespis was to be the most
important feature of the performance) then marched in; or
perhaps it came with a solemn dance, singing the dithyramb.
Meanwhile the actor had disappeared. At the end of the first
hymn, or ode, he reappeared in costume and acted out, or nar-
rated in a lively manner, the episode which was “on” at the
moment. Sometimes he carried on a spicy dialogue with the
leader of the chorus. When the first episode was finished, he

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;22 HOW PLAY-ACTOR AND STORY-TELLER

again disappeared, and the chorus chanted another hymn. In
the second pause he reappeared in different character, and so
on until the end of the entertainment. The performance must
have been something like an enlarged ballad, with alternating
dialogue and refrain; or perhaps even more like the modern
vaudeville, in which independent “turns” succeed each other.

It is obvious, in such an arrangement, that the actor must
have some easily accessible place for making the changes in
his masks and costume. For this purpose Thespis built a little
hut, the Greek word for which is skéné, to which the actor
could retire. This early skéné, which became of course our
“scene,” was purely a mechanical necessity, and not at all de-
signed for decoration or identification of place.

The Thespian tradition. In his time Thespis not only acted
the chief parts himself—rdles of god, king, messenger, or vic-
tim—but he also wrote his own pieces, so far as they were
written, trained his chorus, and was his own manager. It is
thought that he not only used masks but also pigments to dis-
guise the face of the actor. He appeared privately at Athens
as early as 560 B.c., without the assistance of the state; but in
534 B.C., nine years before the birth of Aé‘schylus, the old
stroller took part in the first’ public competition in tragedy at
the City Dionysia in Athens, and received the first prize. On
one occasion Solon, archon of Athens and a contemporary of
Thespis, condescended to witness a play. When the actor ap-
peared before the wise man at the close of the performance,
Solon rebuked him for “trying to deceive the people with his
imitation gods and goddesses.”

Importance of Thespian changes. The performance was not
yet very dramatic, nevertheless it marks the difference between
primitive, imitative dances and the drama of the schools. Un-
fortunately, no manuscripts are preserved illustrating this tran-
sition stage. In the thirty years between the last appearance
of Thespis and the first play of A‘schylus in 499 B.c., many
writers must have experimented with the new form, but no
complete work has survived. From the story-tellers there is
a wealth of material; but from the Dionysiac plays there re-
main in all only a few fragme. s of the dithyrambic choruses:

a.COMBINED TO MAKE DRAMA 23

twenty-eight lines from a fine work by Pindar, invoking the
good will of the gods, and one or two other fragments.

The forerunners. The names of three playwrights are
known: Pratinas, Cheerilus, and Phrynicus. In the contest in
tragedy at the City Dionysia in 499 B.c., Cheerilus and Pratinas
were successful, while among the defeated candidates was the
youthful Aéschylus. There are records to the effect that Che-
rilus wrote one hundred and sixty plays, won the prize thirteen
times, and lived for some years into the fifth century.

Pratinas contented himself with the well known Dionysiac
incidents, gave them a humorous turn, treated them with con-
siderable license and freedom, and so established the satyr
play,—a form in which the goat-skin dress was retained for
the chorus, though some of the newer features of tragedy were
also employed. Chcerilus was also a writer of satyr plays.

Phrynicus was the most famous of the three forerunners,
and in a literary sense the boldest. He struck out audaciously
and used an event from recent Athenian history in a play called
The Capture of Miletus. At the performance, people wept
with emotion, so profound was the impression made; but in
the end the state fined Phrynicus for portraying an event un-
flattering to the Athenians. Aristophanes called him a “writer
of beautiful dramas.” He had the reputation of being the first
playwright among the Greeks to represent female characters
on the stage—that is, to use masks representing women—and
also of inventing many new and graceful movements for the
dancers. Ancient critics, however, attribute to him as his chief
merit the ability to lend more pathos, beauty, and dignity to his
tragedies.

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ZESCHYLUS, THE FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT

. .. poetry has a universal and a.moral function. ... It is an
art that has all time and all experience for its natural subject mat-
ter, and all the possibilities of being for its ultimate theme.—
Grorce SANTAYANA, Poetry and Religion.

Of all the miracles which dazzle mankind in the history of
literary genius, none is more amazing than the advent of
ZEschylus. In his art he was bound by innumerable ties to
Thespis and the forerunners, and to the half savage dancers
round the drum; yet he reached far beyond them. Those
primitive rituals and dances are alien to us, while 7Eschylus
speaks as one of ourselves. With him appeared probably the
first written play. He took the scattering, haphazard exercise
of Thespis and made of it a coherent art form. He also began
to think about the questions and problems with which we are
still concerned, and tried to embody them in his work. He
steps from the dim light of the primitive world into the rela-
tively broad daylight of modern times; and he ushers in the
great cycle of Greek drama which, in the space of a century,
ran its course and decayed.

Life of Zschylus. 525-456 B.c. The last recorded public
appearance of Thespis was in 534 B.c. Nine years after that,
at Eleusis, not far from Athens, Aéschylus was born, in a fam-
ily belonging to the ancient Attic nobility. He and his brother
Cynegeirus fought with distinction in various engagements
against the invading Persians, and their portraits were included
in the famous picture of the battle of Marathon on the Painted
Porch at Athens. The first appearance of A®schylus in the
competitions for tragedy was made, as has been noted, in
499 B.C., against Pratinas and Cheerilus, and was unsuccessful.
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spectators to the theater that the wooden benches broke down.
After this first appearance and defeat, A®schylus left Athens
for Sicily; but in 490, the year of Marathon, he must have
been back in Athens. Between the battles of Marathon and
Salamis he achieved the first of his thirteen successes in the
competitions. In 468 he was defeated by the young Sophocles.

7Eschylus made many visits to Sicily, and seems finally to
have adopted that island as his home, under the patronage of
Prince Hieron. He must have returned frequently to Athens,
however, in order to act in his plays and to superintend their
production. Although greatly admired by the Athenians, yet
he was almost mobbed on one occasion under suspicion of hav-
ing revealed the Eleusinian mysteries. At his trial he was ac-
quitted. He died at Gela, Sicily, in his seventieth year. The
legend is that he was seated out of doors, writing, when an
eagle, mistaking his bald head for a stone, dropped a tortoise
on it and killed him. He was buried in the public tombs of
Gela with great pomp and magnificence. Over his tomb was
inscribed an epitaph which, it was said, was composed by him-
self, mentioning the fact that he had fought at Marathon, but
saying nothing of his work as a poet.

The seven extant plays. /Eschylus wrote about ninety plays,
seven of which have been preserved. The Suppliants is prob-
ably the earliest of these. The story, taken from the Epic
Cycle, tells how the fifty daughters of Danaus, sought in mar-
riage by their cousins, the fifty sons of A®gyptus, fled for pro-
tection to a place near Argos. The fifty suitors overtook them
and through a messenger commanded the maidens to give them-
selves up; but at this point the king of Argos interfered, send-
ing the suitors off about their business. The play closes with
a hymn of thanksgiving sung by the chorus.

The Persians. This play offers the only instance in the
7Eschylean tragedies of the use of a plot taken from other than
Homeric sources. It was written to celebrate the final defeat
of the armies of Xerxes, but was not exhibited until 472, seven
years after the hostile army had departed, never to return.
The scene is laid in Persia, among the very enemies against
whom the Greeks had fought for more than eleven years. The

, WestZESCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT 29

successive scenes give the narrative of the defeat and ruin of
the Persian forces. One sees the oriental setting, the fear of
the down-trodden subjects in the presence of their despotic
ruler, the votive offerings and libations of Queen ‘Atossa, and
finally the sorrow and wailing of Xerxes and his courtiers at
the news of disaster. It is easy to imagine how such a play
would feed the secret pride and exultation of a Greek audi-
ence. It is, however, far more than a boastful picture of Greek
triumph and Persian defeat; rather is it a moral lesson on the
subject of tyranny, designed to touch the heart and conscience
of every oppressor, whether Greek or barbarian.

The Seven Against Thebes. A single incident connected
with the CEdipus legend is made the basis of this play, whose
underlying theme is the fulfilment of a curse. Of the two sons
of C£dipus, Eteocles and Polynices, the prophecy had been
made: “They shall divide their inheritance with the sword in
such a manner as to obtain equal shares.” When the play
begins, Eteocles is in possession of the city, while Polynices
with an army of Argive soldiers advances to attack it. In the
battle which follows by the walls of Thebes, both brothers are
killed. Their “equal share” is a grave. Antigone, the sister,
here appears for a moment, announcing her determination to
give her rebel brother the decent burial which had been denied
him.

Prometheus Bound. This play shares with the Agamemnon
the distinction of being the most admired of the A‘schylean
dramas. It has perhaps influenced more literary people than
any other classic work. Like The Suppliants and The Seven
Against Thebes, it was probably part of a trilogy. Prometheus
is the friend and teacher of mankind. His services to men
have brought upon him the enmity of Zeus who, through his
messenger Hermes, demands that Prometheus shall consent
to give up his practice of helping mortals and acknowledge
him, Zeus, as the rightful ruler of Olympus. The Firebringer
proudly and bitterly refuses, whereupon Zeus condemns him to
long ages of punishment. He is chained to a rock by an abyss
in the Caucasus. A vulture tortures him perpetually, and
finally he is thrown into Tartarus. Before this catastrophe,

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30 ASCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT

however, there comes the promise of release and the justifi-
cation of the hero.

Concerning this play Haigh, one of the ablest of modern
critics, has said: “The central idea of the play—that of a
god submitting of his own free will to ages of torment, in
order to rescue mankind from their degradation—is a concep-
tion so sublime, and so alien to the usual spirit of Greek re-
ligion, that some of the early fathers perceived in it a dim
presentiment of the Christian doctrine. But the drama may be
regarded from many points of view. It may be looked upon,
not only as a noble example of self-sacrifice, but also as a
type of man’s struggle against destiny, or of the conflict be-
tween liberty and oppression. ... The great charm of the
Prometheus Bound lies in its varied and perennial sugges-
tiveness.”

The trilogy. The regulations of the annual competitions
were probably somewhat elastic, especially during the earlier
part of the fifth century; but it is understood that in general
each poet exhibited three tragedies and one satyr play, the
four pieces being performed in succession in the course of a
single day. Before A®schylus the poets had used for these
plays, so far as we know, three different subjects; but
ZEschylus saw a way of deepening the impression by making
the three tragedies all part of one story. Thus rose the trilogy.
Each play is technically complete, yet gains in strength and
meaning by being linked with the other two. The only extant
example of this form is the celebrated Oresteia, which com-
prises the Agamemnon, The Libation Pourers (Chephort),
and The Benign Ones (Eumenides). The fourth play, a
satyric drama called Proteus, is lost. In each play there is a
distinct dramatic situation; but it is possible to regard the
trilogy as a single three-act play, as it probably would have
been written by a modern playwright.

The story of the Oresteia. The plot, taken of course from
the Homeric poems, tells of the sorrow and successive disasters
falling upon the House of Atreus. Its theme is the working
out of hereditary guilt. The Agamemnon begins with the
watchman’s announcing the return of the warrior-king afterZESCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT 31

his long absence at Troy. When he appears, bringing with
him his captive maiden Cassandra, Clytemnestra greets her
husband with scornful, haughty words which sound dutiful,
but have a sting in their double meaning. Then with the help
of her lover she murders him. The second play, The Libation
Pourers, shows how Orestes, the son of Agamemnon and
Clytemnestra, avenges the death of his father by murdering
his mother and her companion A®gisthus. The third play,
The Benign Ones, pictures Orestes pursued by the Furies,
brought to trial at Athens, and at last obtaining pardon. With
his purification, the Furies are transformed into protectors,
and the long course of guilt and suffering is finished.

Changes made by Zéschylus. Working conditions and ma-
terials, such as the outdoor setting, the use of masks, the pres-
ence of the chorus with its dancing and singing, were all in-
herited by ZEschylus from the more primitive drama. The
main characters and events of his plot were supplied by the
legend. The single actor had already been “invented” by
Thespis. One of the first things Aéschylus did was to introduce
a second actor. ‘This innovation, made thirty years after
Thespis had taken the first step, was a momentous event.
Somewhat later Sophocles brought a third actor on the stage,
and Aeschylus quickly adopted the new style. Of course dum-
mies were used, as in the scene where Prometheus was nailed
to the rock; and in one or two later tragedies it seems as if a
fourth actor would have been required. In general, however,
after the early work of Sophocles Greek tragedy was limited
to the three-actor play.

The physical setting of such a drama as Prometheus was
probably somewhat more elaborate than that of any primitive
play. Certain characters arrive on the stage in a wagon drawn
by “a winged beast.” Chariots had already become theatrical
property, and other mechanical devices soon made their ap-
pearance. The custom rose for each entering personage by
way of introduction to state distinctly his name, place of resi-
dence, and his office. Frequently also there was given, through
the words of the prologue or one of the actors, a description of
the scene of the play, with the landscape features. Such de-a! F

32 #ARSCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT

scription, direct or indirect, is of course one of the stock the-
atrical devices. “How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this
bank!” was only one of Shakespeare’s ways of localizing his
scene.

The ZEschylean chorus, composed originally of the singers
of the dithyramb, was continuously present. In the time of
Thespis and the early years of A%schylus it was by far the
most important portion of the play. The extant tragedies of
ZEschylus, however, show a gradual but definite change. In
The Suppliants, an early work, more than half the lines are
given to the chorus, and the greater part of the dialogue is
between a single actor and the chorus, while the second actor
has but a slight part. In the succeeding plays, however, the
choral passages are much reduced in length, while the dialogue
is prolonged and made far more important. In The Sup pliants
the fifty maidens form the chorus, but after a time A‘schylus
reduced the number to twelve; and from then on the chorus
takes its place as a secondary though still necessary part of
tragedy, composed of appropriate characters, such as a council
of elders, courtiers in the palace of Xerxes, lawgivers, or
sympathetic expositors of the story. Occasionally they appear
as prophetic attendants to whom a happier future is visible.

Whatever changes he made, 7¢schylus always remained ele-
mental and simple. He delighted in picturesque narrative and
phrases, such as “starry-kirtled night.” He speaks of the
wrath of God as “trampling with heavy foot upon the nations
of Persia.” He put more color and variety into the costumes
of the chorus and actors, and elaborated the dance movements.
For his time he was a specialist in novelties, such as torch-light
processions and choral effects of a striking character. ne
used different rhythms in depicting varying moods, suddenly
transforming the expectations of the audience from delight
into anxiety and grief. Sometimes his characters indulge in
talk which at the moment seems trivial, but turns at a phrase
into tragic intensity, mystery, or dread. He was a master
of the dramatic situation and of climax, having an eye for
what was theatrical and spectacular in the best sense. “The
world,” writes Haigh, “has seldom seen a more splendid com-ZESCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT 33

bination of the arts of poetry, music, dancing and stage man-
agement than was produced under the guidance of his genius.”

Patriotic and religious ideas. Like most of the earlier
Athenian poets, Aischylus was intensely national. His plays
reveal a constant care and anxiety for Greece and the traditions
of greatness which she had inherited. The Persians is in a
sense the earliest specimen of Greek history in existence. It
was composed in the full flood of national pride, in the face of
the humiliation of the enemy. A¢schylus sings,

“Impregnable the walls of Athens stand,
Her fearless children are her bulwarks sure.”

Aristocratic in his principles, A®schylus believed that the gov-
ernment of the state should lie upon the shoulders of the
educated and the well-born. The rights of suppliant and guest
are sacred. Hospitality is one of the paramount duties. Lib-
erty, reverence for the gods, generous suffering for the good
of others, and the ancient noble heritage of the Greeks,—
these are topics on which he loves to dwell. His moral earnest-
ness is apparent in each one of his plays. To him Zeus was
the sublime and just ruler of the universe, punishing sin and
evil. There are laws of right and good in accordance with
which man must live; but patience in suffering disarms even
the wrath of the gods and brings rest at last.

Mixed with this deeply religious temperament were all sorts
of ancient superstitions, mingled with a tinge of wholesome
skepticism. In his plays, as in some of the examples of primi-
tive drama, there are lessons in geography, in the history of
civilization, and in the origin of human customs. The very
core and kernel of one of his greatest plays, the Prometheus,
is the spectacle of an undefeated will struggling against an
enthroned power. AEschylus placed the wreath of immortality
upon him whose courage and determination held fast in the
face of threatened disaster.

The eclipse of ZEschylus. Revered as A‘schylus was in his
life and honored in his death, yet there rose a generation that
laughed at his archaic diction and ridiculed his plots. Even
within his own century, his simplicity was often scoffed at.

)
Fs

i
ii34 #ESCHYLUS, FIRST GREAT PLAYWRIGHT

Aristotle, writing a century after his death, evidently regarded
him as one who had served well in his time, but was then out
of date. Beside Sophocles and Euripides he seemed antiquated.
To the modern reader or spectator his scenes sometimes seem
somewhat childish or improbable; and yet it is easy to accept
his fabulous, mysterious world of gods and heroes, which has
the same reality and truth that the ancient fables have, only
many times magnified and filled with poetic imagination. The
genius of Atschylus was flaming and volcanic, suggesting a
comparison with Marlowe, who, like A®schylus, ushered in a
brilliant period of dramatic creation.

With his remarkable gifts—his poetic power, his fertile
imagination, his flair for the thing that was theatrically effec-
tive, and his passionate earnestness for the right and good—
Aéschylus was a worthy founder of one of the world’s greatest
arts. For the Greeks he fixed and determined absolutely the
form of the tragic drama. It was left to later playwrights to
make plots more nearly perfect, and to achieve a more exquisite
finish; but in all essentials, classic tragedy was moulded by
feschylus. It was as the great originating genius of drama
that he was honored at Athens. Although ordinarily a tragedy
was exhibited but once in the city, yet after the death of
Aéschylus a special law was passed, authorizing the reproduc-
tion of his plays, annually, at the City Dionysia. A grant of
money from the public treasury was made to defray the cost.
This distinction was not conferred upon any other poet during
the fifth century.CHAPTER V

SOPHOCLES, THE MOST POLISHED OF THE
TRAGIC POETS

Creep gently, ivy, gently creep,

Where Sophocles sleeps on in calm repose;
Thy pale green tresses o’er the marble sweep,

While all around shall bloom the purpling rose.
There let the vine, with rich, full clusters hang,

Its fair young tendrils fling around the stone;
Due meed for that sweet wisdom which he sang,

By Muses and by Graces called their own.

Simmias of Thebes, translation by Plumptre.

In Sophocles the supreme poetic gift was united with an
almost unparalleled dramatic power, and with him the cycle
of Greek tragedy came to its perfection. Technically he in-
herited practically everything. The setting of the stage and
its appliances, the art of acting, the management of the chorus
and the general structure of the play—all these matters had
been worked out by A®schylus and his predecessors. Magnifi-
cent as the work of Aéschylus had been, it was left to Sophocles
to build up a more intricate yet symmetrical plot, to achieve a
more polished verse, and to inculcate in his plays a more
subtle and profound wisdom.

Life of Sophocles. 495-406 or 405 B.c. Colonos was the
birthplace of Sophocles, who celebrated the beauties of his
native town in one of the extant plays. As a lad of fifteen
years he was probably sent away from home, with the women
and children, to a place of safety when the Persians under
Xerxes invaded Greece in 480 B.c. When, after their defeat,
the day came for the celebration of the victory of the Greeks,
the boy Sophocles was chosen to lead the triumphal procession.

During his youth the wooden theater which had broken
down at the time of the competition of /®schylus against

3536 SOPHOCLES, THE MOST POLISHED

Cheerilus and Pratinus was replaced, in part at least, by stone.
During this period also A*schylus came to the height of his
fame. The work of the elder poet must have had great influ-
ence upon the youth. In 468 he entered the competitions
against A‘schylus, when the two men were respectively twenty-
seven and fifty-seven years of age. The legend is that the
excitement over this contest was so great that the Archon
Cimon resorted to the unusual method of taking with him to
the play his ten generals representing the ten tribes of Attica,
and known to be above any suspicion of unfairness. These
generals he bound to act as judges. The play submitted by
Sophocles was probably the Triptolemos, which received the
prize. The text, except for a few fragments, is lost.

For twenty-nine years after his first success, Sophocles
reigned supreme on the Athenian stage, though he did not
always receive the first award. Of his hundred or more plays,
seven are preserved. Like A%schylus and his forerunners, he
acted both as director and stage manager; but, on account of
his weak voice, early in life he withdrew as an actor. The
Antigone, composed some time before 440 B.c., was greatly
admired. A report, long current, had it that the Antigone
brought to its author the odd reward of being appointed a
general in the army of Pericles. He received flattering invita-
tions from princes of neighboring states to make his home with
them; but he seems never to have left Athens except in the
course of official duty. In the year 440 he lost the prize for
tragedy to Euripides, and in 431 lost it again to Euphorion,
the son of Aéschylus. When, towards the end of his life,
news came of the death of his younger rival Euripides, Sopho-
cles dressed himself in mourning and marched to the altar at
the head of the funeral procession. He lived to a great age,
loved, respected, and successful to the end. His life has been
likened to that of Goethe, with its many years of fruitful
activity, its comparative tranquillity, and its singleness of pur-
pose. After his death, the Athenians remembered him by
making a yearly sacrifice in his honor.

The seven extant plays. Probably the earliest of his sur-
viving plays is the Antigone, always a favorite among classical

ceeOF THE TRAGIC POETS 37

scholars. It is based upon incidents following the battle cele-
brated in The Seven Against Thebes by A®schylus. Upon the
death of the brothers Polynices and Eteocles, Creon has become
king. He issues a decree that the body of Eteocles, the de-
fender of the city, should be buried with royal honors; but
that the body of Polynices, the so-called rebel, should remain
unburied without the city walls as a perpetual disgrace and
warning. Thereupon Antigone, sister of the two dead chief-
tains, declares her intention of performing the last burial
rites over the body of her dishonored brother. She goes out-
side the city wall, sprinkles the body with dust and pours
over it libations to ensure peace to the soul. Her disobedience
is reported to Creon, who sends for her and asks her how she
dared disobey his express commands. She answers that his
decrees are not strong enough to overpass

“The unwritten laws of God that know no change.
They are not of today, nor yesterday,
But live forever.”

Creon argues with her, pointing out that Polynices had dis-
honored himself by attacking his father’s city. Antigone does
not repent. Her sister and her lover plead for mercy; but
Creon, feeling that lenience in this case would be but a poor
example of his rule, condemns Antigone to be buried alive in
a rock cave. To the Greek, it should be understood, proper
burial was not only an act of love and respect, but a service
demanded by the gods, a religious duty. Thus the play be-
comes a representation of the conflict between human and
divine law.

Ajax. The story of Ajax was related in one of the lost
epics of the Trojan Cycle, and is suggested also in the eleventh
book of the Odyssey. Upon the death of Achilles, the order
went forth that his armor should be given to the bravest and
best warrior in the Argive host. Ajax claimed it, since he
was a giant in stature, had many brave deeds to his credit,
and had rescued the body of Achilles from desecration. By
his arrogance, however, Ajax had incurred the ill-will of
Athena, who commanded that the armor should be given to38 SOPHOCLES, THE MOST POLISHED

Odysseus. In his anger, Ajax would have murdered those
about him had not Athena blinded him, so that he could not
distinguish men from cattle. In the course of time he recov-
ered, entered a contest and was defeated. Despair then drove
him to self-destruction.

Temperance and moderation, even at the pinnacle of suc-
cess—this is the lesson of the play, told in no uncertain terms.
As a hero, Ajax had a peculiar interest for Athenians, for
one of the Attic tribes bore his name, and from him certain
distinguished families traced their origin. The dying warrior
refers to the

“ec

. sacred land that was my home;

O Salamis, where stands my father’s hearth,
Thou glorious Athens, with thy kindred race,
Ye streams and rivers here, and Troia’s plains,
To you that fed my life, I bid farewell.” 1

Such an apostrophe, as Haigh reminds us, “would have a
peculiarly touching effect when spoken in the open theater,
from which the buildings of Athens and the sea-girt isle of
Salamis were easily visible.”

The Maidens of Trachis. (Trachinie.) ‘This play has for
its theme the tender faithfulness of a long-suffering wife, and
her final revenge for great wrongs. When Hercules took
Dejaneira as a bride to Tyrins, the pair had to cross a stream
on the back of the Centaur Nessus. As he bore Dejaneira the
Centaur laid rude hands upon her; and seeing this, Hercules
shot him with a poisoned arrow. The dying Nessus, seeking
to secure a future revenge upon his slayer, gave Dejaneira a
rag which had been dipped in his blood, telling her that it was
a love charm to win back her husband’s heart, in case he
should ever prove unfaithful.

For many years Dejaneira lived with Hercules, bore him
many children, and forbore to use the supposed love charm
in spite of many provocations. When he conquers Trachis,
however, the crisis comes. For the sake of a beautiful girl,
Iole, Hercules lays waste the city and takes all the women of

1 Translation by Plumptre.Or THE, TRAGIC POETS 39

the city captive. Learning of this deed, in despair Dejaneira
gives her husband the supposed charm. It is the “shirt of
Nessus,” which proves to be a poisoned garment, torturing its
wearer to death. Thus an ancient prophecy was fulfilled, to
the effect that Hercules should not die by the hand of a living
person, but by “one who walked in the realm of Hades.”

Electra. After Agamemnon had been slain, the city was
ruled by his wife and her lover. Orestes, son of the murdered
man and Clytemnestra, was obliged to leave the palace.
Electra, his sister, secretly helped him and received messages
from him through trusted servants. After eight years Orestes,
having been commanded by Apollo to take vengeance upon his
father’s murderers, returns to the palace. With him is his
friend Pylades. He contrives a secret interview with Electra,
tells her of his purpose, and presently entraps A‘gisthus and
kills him. Wailing with grief, the mother now appears; and
she too is led away to her death. The play closes with the
opening of the palace doors showing the dead bodies of
Clytemnestra and Agisthus, with Orestes standing beside them.
In theme and incident the Electra is, of course, a parallel to
The Libation Pourers of AEschylus, and among the many
plays based upon the legend of the House of Atreus.

CEedipus the King. Even to the Greeks of the fifth century,
the myth of the House of Laius was a legend of great antiq-
uity. It is touched upon in the Iliad, in the Odyssey, in Hesiod,
and was probably the subject of the lost Theban Cycle of
poems. Slight variations mark the different versions of the
story. Like many of the Bible narratives, it must have sprung
up during a period when infant exposure was a common prac-
tice, when the head of every petty tribe was a king, and when
more enlightened teachers were endeavoring to abolish the
practice of incest. The religion of this period was bound up
with the methods of divination and belief in oracles.

The play begins at the point of the story when CEdipus sits
proudly enthroned, honored by all. The Theban elders wait
upon him, however, with a story of trouble. A plague is
killing the crops and beasts, and an oracle has foretold that it
will not abate until the murderer of Laius is found and pun-40 SOPHOGEES, THE MOST POLISHED

ished. Qédipus, the great and powerful king, promises to rid
the nation of its misfortunes and bring the guilty one to light.
As the play advances, first one thread and then another is
picked up, until in the end the evidence of guilt falls upon
CG&dipus himself. Jocasta his mother, whom in ignorance he
has married, hangs herself; and CEdipus, but yesterday so tri-
umphant, now sees the tragedy inevitably closing in upon him.
In remorse he blinds himself; then, led forth by his daughter
Antigone, he leaves Thebes and the court forever. In closing,
the chorus utters the famous passage:

“Dwellers in our native Thebes, behold, this is C-dipus, who
knew the famed riddle, and was a man most mighty; on whose
fortunes what citizen did not gaze with envy? Behold, into what
a stormy sea of dread trouble hath he come! Therefore, while
our eyes wait to see the destined final day, we must call no one
happy who is of mortal race, until he hath crossed life’s border,
free from pain.” ?

It is idle to dismiss such a piece of work as being merely
the reincarnation of a ghastly story. It is more than that, for
it reaches back into the history of the race. Two ideas are
paramount: the futility and wickedness of disregarding the
dictates of religion, and the sacredness of the natural family
ties. Jocasta and Laius tried to outwit the gods; and Cdipus
was in fact guilty of killing his father, although in ignorance
of the relationship. Oriental stories abound in similar situa-
tions. This myth, like many of the stories of the Bible, re-
lates through symbolism the history of man’s efforts towards
civilization, law, order, and purity. In addition to this, it
portrays the downfall of one who, through prosperity, has
become self-confident and arrogant. His trouble comes to him
mainly, however, through error, for which atonement can be
made. “Apollo is able to disclose and to punish impurity,
but he will also give final rest to the wanderer, final absolu-
tion to the weary mourner for unconscious sin.”

Use of the Cédipus plot. Comment has already been made

2 Translation by Richard Jebb.OF THE TRAGIC POETS 4I

upon the wide-spread popularity of this legend. A®schylus
used it in a trilogy, the three parts of which consisted of Laius,
CEedipus, and The Seven Against Thebes, only the last of
which has survived. A play by Euripides on the same sub-
ject is lost. There were at least eight Greek plays based upon
this theme, and many parodies by comic writers. Suetonius
reported that Julius Cesar wrote a tragedy upon it, and tradi-
tion says that Nero particularly liked to play the role of
CEdipus. No Greek version, except that of Sophocles, re-
mains.

Among later writers, Seneca, Corneille, Voltaire, and Dryden
used the plot. In Seneca, the ghost of Laius comes on the
stage inciting his people to revenge, and Jocasta kills herself
in sight of the audience. In the version by Corneille, a
secondary or under-plot afforded the author a chance to de-
velop an incidental love-story. Corneille followed Seneca
rather than Sophocles in presenting scenes of violence on
the open stage. Voltaire followed the Greek spirit somewhat
more closely, in causing the suicides to take place behind the
scenes; but he too used an under-plot, as he considered a love
interest necessary to a good play. It was Dryden, however,
who depicted the utmost horror. His final scene was too ap-
palling in its butchery even for the strong taste of the times.
Eurydice, Creon and Jocasta, Adrastus and the children are
all killed on the open stage. Scott, writing in 1790, said that
no audience could endure Dryden’s Cedipus.

Philoctetes. The story of this play is found in the Trojan
Cycle. Philoctetes was one of the Greek warriors who started
out on the expedition against Troy. Being injured, he was
left on the island of Lemnos, where he remained for nine
years. Meantime the war had continued, and Hector, Ajax,
and Achilles had been killed. Philoctetes is in possession of
the bow of Hercules. The Greeks, almost in despair at the
stubborn resistance of Troy, find that an oracle has foretold
that Troy could never be taken except by a son of Achilles and
with the bow of Hercules. The Greeks send to the island
and try to get the bow away from Philoctetes by deception.
During the quarrel that follows Hercules himself descends42 SOPHOCLES, THE MOST POLISHED

from heaven, commanding Philoctetes to acknowledge the will
of the gods and go to the aid of his countrymen.

This story was used as the basis of a play by each of the
three great tragic poets. One can read in it a plea for the
burial of all private feuds at the call of country. Some clas-
sical students have seen in it a likeness to certain events in
the career of Alcibiades, who was recalled to Athens at a time
of political strife. Though there may be an analogy, yet the
play is ideal in character, and should not be construed into a
political tract. It was as near as Sophocles ever came to touch-
ing upon the events of his own time.

(Edipus at Colonos. The last of the surviving plays was
written when the poet was nearing the age of ninety. It deals
with still another fragment of the Labdacide legend. The
blind Gdipus, expiating his guilt, has for many years wandered
from land to land, finally coming to a lovely grove at Colonos.
While he is resting there, a message is brought to him saying
that the gods have now relented and will compensate him for
his many sufferings; that in his death he will become a sacred
figure, revered by Athenians and Thebans alike. At this point
a messenger arrives asking him to come back to Thebes and
settle a quarrel between rival claimants to the throne which he
himself had once occupied. The old king, wiser now than in
youth, refuses to have anything to do with worldly affairs. A
clap of thunder and a stroke of lightning startle the company ;
and when again they look, the old man has been transformed
into a strong youth. He feels renewed vigor, but he is not
deceived. While his followers are rushing about in confusion
and excitement, he calmly leads them to the place which, he
knows, has been appointed for his grave.

The mere outline of these plays is sufficient to indicate the
variety and richness brought by Sophocles into the drama.
The mould so splendidly wrought by A%schylus was filled by
him with even more precious metal. His varied characters,
his brilliant scenes, his human understanding, his glowing and
affecting poetry,—these elements were brought to a perfection
which scholars still consider well-nigh matchless.

The contribution of Sophocles. Aside from the introduc-

Et vyOF THE TRAGIC POETS 43

tion of the third actor, Sophocles made no great technical inno-
vations. He is supposed to have changed the number of the
tragic chorus from twelve, the number fixed by A®schylus, to
fifteen. He made sundry additions to stage equipment, caused
scenery to be painted, and divided the single line of verse be-
tween two or sometimes three speakers. He returned to the
earlier method of using three different subjects for the three
plays submitted at a contest. While using the Homeric myths,
he ignored the Dionysiac stories, and seldom presented the gods
on the stage. Fifty-three of his plots were taken from the
Trojan Cycle. His outstanding contribution lies in the elabo-
ration of plot. ®schylus had never gone much beyond the
dramatic situation or presentation of a single important epi-
sode. Sophocles took a whole series of episodes, and so
arranged them that each one helped to develop the action and
had its share in throwing light on the climax. He was able to
keep the interest rising to the end. His work, when it left
his hand, was as much a masterpiece as a cathedral, and as
sound in construction.

Position of Sophocles among the Ancients. Much has been
written concerning the brilliancy of the scenes, the beauty of
language, and the subtle devices of characterization in the
Sophoclean plays. Aristotle, the first to lay down principles
of dramatic construction, turned to Sophocles, and especially
to Gedipus the King, as the model of all that was just, beau-
tiful, and illustrious in the art of tragic drama. Ancient writ-
ers quoted from Sophocles as moderns quote from Shake-
speare. Many fragments remain, in which the reader can find
a gentle, philosophic attitude toward life.

“Fortune ne’er helps the man whose courage fails,”
“None but the gods may live untouched by ill,”—

“The skilful gamester still should make the best
Of any throw, and not bemoan his luck.”

“What may be taught, I learn; what may be found,
That I still seek for; what must come by prayer
For that I asked the gods.”44 SOPHOCLES

The following extract, taken from Philoctetes, is the speech
of the island recluse as he leaves his retreat:

“Farewell, cave of my lonely watchings,

Nymphs of the meadows and streams, a long good-by;

Filling my cave with cries from the storm beaten cape,
d Lemnos, adieu!

Girt by thy waters! I leave thee at last and obey,

Bowing my will to the gods’ will, who finish all things,

Bringing fulfilment out of men’s obdurate pride.”

In comparison with A%schylus, the younger man showed a
broader humanity and a capacity for perfection, without the
older man’s austerity and ruggedness. A%schylus moulded the
form, Sophocles harmonized and enriched it. He was not less
religious than A%schylus; his whole life seemed to be a wor-
ship of the gods. He had, however, a more urbane style and a
more human and sympathizing heart. His characters, like
those of A®schylus, were to some extent personified passions ;
but they are pictured with greater compassion. He seems in a
peculiar way to embody the spirit of Greece at its greatest and
best.CHAPTER VI
“EURIPIDES THE HUMAN”

If the Greek classics are to be read with any benefit by modern
men, they must be read as the work of men like ourselves. Re-
gard must be had to their traditions, their opportunities, and their
limitations. . . . What we shall lose in reverence by this familiar
treatment, we shall gain in sympathy for that group of troubled,
uncertain, and very modern minds. The Athenian writers were,
indeed, the first of modern men. They were discussing questions
that we still discuss; they began to struggle with the great prob-
lems that confront us today. Their writings are our dawn.—H. G.
WELLs, Outline of History.

Tradition has persistently claimed that Euripides was born
in 480, on the very day of the naval battle of Salamis, fought
between the Greeks and the Persians. If the tradition be
true, then the three greatest of the Greek poets were linked
together by an odd circumstance: the eldest helped to win the
victory, the second was chosen to lead the triumphal proces-
sion, and the third was born on the day the fight occurred.

Life of Euripides. 485 or 480-406 B.c. In early youth
Euripides was attracted to the study of philosophy and poetry.
He began to write tragedies when he was eighteen, but did not
win the first prize until he was about forty years old. He com-
posed upwards of ninety plays, a few of which were satyric
dramas, the others tragedies. Only five times in all—four
times during his lifetime and once after his death—were his
plays victorious. In 431, when he stood third among the
competitors, his four offerings included the Medea. Like the
CEdipus of Sophocles, this play, though accounted by later
critics a masterpiece, failed to receive the first prize.

Euripides fell under the disfavor of his fellow citizens, prob-
ably on account of his alleged skepticism concerning the gods.
He retired to the court of Archelaus, king of Macedon, by

erence Per oaggettan “~ as

i
4
nren

46 “EURIPIDES THE HUMAN”

whom he was treated with consideration and affection. At his
death he was mourned by the king, who, refusing the request
of the Athenians that his remains be carried back to the Greek
city, buried him with much splendor within his own dominions.
His tomb was placed at the confluence of two streams, near
Arethusa in Macedonia, and a cenotaph was built to his mem-
ory on the road from Athens towards the Pirzus.

Euripides had a famous library—one of the first to be col-
lected by a private individual. Although he lived most of his
life in the midst of the cultured society of Athens, and was in
some respects a leader in it, yet he grew bitter and despondent
over the fierce rivalries and greedy ambitions which marked
the life of the city. He loved the seclusion of his house at
Salamis, where it was said that he composed his dramas in a
cave.

The plays. Out of the ninety or more plays of Euripides,
eighteen have been preserved. The Rhesus, for a long time
attributed to him, is thought by most modern scholars to be-
long to some author of the fourth century. The success of
several of the plays was owing, in part perhaps, to the fact
that they flattered the pride of the Athenians. According to
Plutarch, after the disaster of the Sicilian fleet many of the
captured Greeks obtained their freedom, and others who had
already escaped got food and shelter by repeating verses from
Euripides, who was popular with the Sicilians. He was among
the first, if not the very first, to use the theme of romantic love
for a tragedy. This was done in the Hippolytus, one of the
least bitter and most interesting of his works. The Cyclops is
one of the two extant examples of the satyr play, a form which,
at the City Dionysia, usually followed the tragedies. Of an-
other work, the Euripidean Helen, Schlegel remarked that it
was the merriest tragedy ever written.

Hippolytus. Phedra, the young wife of Theseus, is pining
for the love of Hippolytus, her step-son, whose worship is
given not to Venus, but to the chaste Diana. Through an offi-
cious nurse the plight of Phedra is revealed to the young man,
whereupon tragedy ensues. Phezedra, the lovable, is the ances-
tress of all the stage sirens of the world, down to Camille and“EURIPIDES THE HUMAN” 47

Roxane. The pride and purity of Hippolytus are those of a
clean-minded youth not yet awakened from the innocence of
adolescence. There are two choruses, one of Old Huntsmen,
companions of Hippolytus; the other made up of country-
women of Phedra’s. In no other play does Euripides offer
more buoyant or inspired poetry. Many scholars consider it
his most characteristic tragedy. The subject had already been
used by both A‘schylus and Sophocles, and it has interested
many playwrights of other countries.t_ It is the second version
of Euripides’ play which has come down to us, the first being
lost.

Innovations of Euripides. Technically Euripides seems to
have taken as many liberties as were possible at a time when
the plays of Sophocles were set up as the inevitable model.
There is no Euripidean play with the close and absolutely
water-tight construction peculiar to the Gdipus Rex. Euripi-
des was looser and more careless about form, while to the
superficial glance he followed the classic model. He used the
myths as subjects only because it was the custom, his real
interest lying in the human situation and in the diversity of
character. Instead of unfolding the details of his plot through
the action, he often took the easy method of telling a good
deal of it in the Prologue. Though he was contemptuous of
the old-fashioned stage appliances, yet in nine of the eighteen
extant plays he used the god-from-the-machine to extricate
his characters from their troubles.

In comparison with his two predecessors, Euripides was
somewhat of a radical. He tried many new themes, and in-
vented many sensational episodes. He attacked political ques-
tions and suggested sex problems never before considered
proper for the stage. He was a lover of epigrammatic sayings
and of the long, set arguments characteristic of the oratorical
contests. In all these ways Euripides showed himself resource-
ful, and proved himself a great poet. His career, however,
was far from being the continuous triumph which had fallen
to the lot of Sophocles. The Athenians liked novelty, as Saint
Paul afterwards discovered; but it was necessary for the

1 The most noted example in modern times is the Phédre of Racine.

4
?
j
}
:48 “EURIPIDES THE HUMAN”

teacher of novelties to be wary. Only a few times was Euripi-
des awarded the prize; and he was mercilessly scored by Aris-
tophanes. His later plays are full of bitterness, with a tone
which often tempts the reader to think that he is putting his
own personal feelings into the mouth of his characters. Gil-
bert Murray, in his Preface to the Hippolytus and the Bacche,
says:

“Amid all their power and beauty, there sounds from time to
time a cry of nerves frayed to the snapping point, a jarring note
of fury against something personal to the poet, and not always
relevant to the play. ... It is not really anything positive that
chiefly illustrates the later tone of Euripides. It is not his denun-
ciations of nearly all the institutions of human society—of the
rich, the poor, men, women, slaves, above all of democracies and
demagogues; it is not even the mass of sordid and unbalanced
characters that he brings upon the scene—trembling slaves of am-
bition, like Agamemnon; unscrupulous and heartless schemers like
Odysseus; unstable compounds of chivalry and vanity like Achilles
in the second Iphigenia; shallow women like Helen and terrible
women like Electra in the Orestes; . . . It is the gradual dying off
of serenity and hope.”

Religion. Besides criticism of men and political institu-
tions, there was in Euripides evidence of independent ideas
about religion. He despised necromancers and soothsayers,
and had no belief in the “blind fate” which was seemingly such
a reality to the earlier generation. He almost impeached the
gods for making men their plaything. “Arrest the god, whose
word we must obey. . . . His is the sin, not mine”, one of his
characters is made to say. Amphitryon rebukes Zeus himself,
saying that justice and wisdom are not known to him. How
different from the pious and devout words of /schylus!
Coleridge said, “Euripides . . . is never so happy as when
giving a slap at all the gods together.” Such a judgment, how-
ever, tells less than the whole story. At his best, Euripides
filled the framework of the myths with the ideas of personal
integrity and the reign of the universal law. Even to his keen
skepticism there was the Great Mystery and the Great Obli-
gation,“EURIPIDES THE HUMAN” 49

“And is thy faith so much to give?

Is it so hard a thing to see,

That the Spirit of God, whate’er it be,

The Law that abides and falters not, ages long,

The Eternal and Nature-born—these things be strong?”

In the Hippolytus the chorus of Old Huntsmen sing:

“Surely the thought of the gods hath balm in it alway, to win me
Far from my griefs; and a thought, deep in the dark of my mind,
Clings to a Great Understanding.”

“Euripides the Human,’ It is evident that the three tragic
poets of the fifth century wear their classic robes with a dif-
ference. While conforming superficially to the traditions of
the Athenian stage, Euripides, for better or worse, was gradu-
ally transforming the type and destroying the classic mould.
He was saying things which the older dramatists would have
omitted, enlarging the range of subjects, and subtly changing
the moral and intellectual tone of the stage. At heart a rebel
against the classic mode, he injected into it a new spirit partly
romantic, partly more “natural,” bringing down those figures—
Electra, Clytemnestra, Orestes and the others—from the
idealized heights to which A®schylus and Sophocles had raised
them, into a world at once more human and more teasing to the
imagination. Human nature as it is seemed more interesting
to him than ideal grandeur. That is what is meant by those
who call Euripides more “human” or more “natural.”

In him appeared also the romantic spirit. He united the
telling fact, the crude details of real life with the romantic
motive and atmosphere. Barbaric and picturesque settings,
ghastly episodes, striking effects were for Euripides the ma-
terials out of which he was to weave a picture of sensuous
interest. It was he, inevitably, whose temper permitted the
conception of romantic love between the sexes to be used as
a dramatic theme within the classic form.

The life of Euripides overlapped that of Aschylus by seven-
teen years, and was practically coterminous with that of Sopho-
cles, yet he belonged in spirit to another generation. Like them
he could sing of the glories of Athens with inspired breath;EE

50 “EURIPIDES THE HUMAN”

and like them he used the Homeric myths. Like Sophocles, he
sensed the irony of the mortal situation; but, unlike Sophocles,
he was disillusioned with life and grew increasingly bitter as
the years went on. He never pictured a saviour of mankind
such as Prometheus; rather he set forth a strictly human code,
within the reach of all men if they would only cease being
greedy, vulgarly ambitious and ignorant.

Though perhaps not the greatest, yet Euripides must be con-
sidered the most important of the classical dramatists, because
of his influence upon later poets. His ideas, subjects, and
technique were transferred to the Roman stage through Seneca,
and on through him to the stage of Europe after the Renais-
sance. His work tends towards the confusion of comedy and
tragedy—a process which changed the nature of each. Of the
three tragic poets, he is the most modern in tone and temper.
Euripides gave the Athenians “plenty of politics, plenty of
rhetoric, plenty of discussion political and moral, and now and
then threw in a little skepticism.” Such is the sketch made
by Goldwin Smith. To this should be added the fact that he
was a true poet, full of interest and charm.

aa T,

=e’CHAPTER VII

ARISTOPHANES AND THE GREEK COMEDY
WRITERS

The comedy of Aristophanes was a medley of boisterous comic-
opera and of lofty lyric poetry, of vulgar ballet and patriotic ora-
tory, of indecent farce and of pungent political satire, of acrobatic
pantomime and of brilliant literary criticism, of cheap burlesque
and of daringly imaginative fancy—BrANDER MatrHews, The
Development of the Drama.

With a burst of laughter, like the clown entering the circus
ring, formal Greek comedy seems to spring instantaneously to
life, only a little later than tragedy. We know nothing, ex-
cept by inference, of any intermediate forms between the
early pantomimic dance revels, and the finished, complex come-
dies of Aristophanes. There are only traditions of the komos,
or revel-rout, which, long previous to the fifth century, must
have been a veritable orgy of play-acting, topical songs, lam-
poons, and ridiculous antics.

The word komos (comus) originally indicated both the revel
and the revelers—dancers, singers, and masqueraders taking
part in the lighter ceremonies connected with the worship of
Dionysus. These masqueraders impersonated birds, dolphins,
ostriches, cocks, and other fantastic creatures. They rode upon
the backs of their companions, carried aloft the phallic emblem,
and padded themselves to look like deformed beings. A cer-
tain mask, worn with a tight, short jacket, indicated the clown.
Other masks were accepted as stereotyped figures. The rev-
elers marched in procession from house to house, pausing
before each dwelling with a program of singing, flute-playing,
and improvised topical songs. Personal abuse, comic lam-
poons, and sexual levity were always prominent features of
these revels.

SI52 ARISTOPHANES AND THE

Old Comedy. As Arion brought order into the dithyramb,
so Susarion, a fellow townsman of Thespis, brought some
degree of order into the program of the comus, which was
admitted into the yearly celebrations of Athens about 501 B.c.
In 486 the archon granted a chorus for the performance of a
comedy, which meant official recognition; and probably about
465 the comedy became a regular feature of the annual festivals.
One of the earliest known comic poets was Cratinas, whose
life was nearly coterminus with that of Sophocles. He ex-
hibited twenty-one times and was victor nine times, triumph-
ing once over Aristophanes. The titles and many fragments of
his plays survive, but there is no complete play. As A‘schylus
is regarded as the creator of the tragic drama, so Cratinas is
regarded as the creator of Old Comedy, giving it its political
and personal turn.

Aristophanes. About 452 to about 380 B.c. The only peer,
in comedy, of the three great writers of tragedy, was Aris-
tophanes, the great representative of Old Comedy. He was a
well-born and well-educated Greek. In his plays he carried
on a vigorous war against the teachings of the Sophists, against
the practices of the demagogue Cleon, against the jingo ele-
ment of Athens which rendered impossible any long-standing
peace with Sparta, and against the general fickleness, weakness,
and credulity of the Athenian democracy. About 421 the
Athenian legislators took measures to curb the writers of
political satire, and for some years Aristophanes was silent.
In 414 he appeared again with The Birds, in which is placed
the famous Cloud-Cuckoo-Town, and with this play he won
the second prize. From this time on, under one title or another
he ridiculed, attacked, or maligned one institution after another.
He embodied in his plays the idea of a communistic settlement
and of a woman’s conspiracy to bring about peace; he criti-
cised the distribution of wealth and the manners of Greek
youth, elaborated a new system of education, and noted the
signs of decay in the Greek drama. In time of war he was
an open advocate of pacifism, and talked of a Pan-Hellenic
union when the rival governments of Sparta and Athens were
at swords’ points. With it all he contrived to keep the Athe-

" oe ayGREEK COMEDY WRITERS 53

nian populace in a roar of laughter by means of his free-spoken
and licentious wit.

Like most humorists, Aristophanes was a conservative, favor-
ing the aristocrats against the foreign-born Athenians and
political demagogues, having no sympathy with communistic
ideas or freedom for women, and generally opposing all new
things. He belittled and abused Sappho and the “foreign-
born” Aspasia—the two ancient Greek women who, to the
modern layman, seem the most gifted women Greece ever pro-
duced ; yet he could imagine women intelligent enough to form
a political party favoring peace, and did actually put such
characters into a play. His patriotism took the familiar form
of upholding the past. As tricky politicians more and more
gained control of the one-time free Athens, bringing in con-
temptible and disastrous policies, Aristophanes grew more sar-
castic and biting. So effective were his attacks on Cleon that
at least on two occasions the demagogue attempted to bring
an action at law against him. In later days he became the
critic of social customs and conditions rather than of indi-
viduals.

Considerable pomp and dignity of style attended the Old
Comedy. Farcical though it was at times, yet as a spectacle it
was imposing, and as drama it was well composed, even formal.
The chorus, numbering twenty-four, was gorgeously costumed.
Masks were used for chorus and actors, and practically the
same settings and machinery were employed as for tragedy.
The verse was often marked by impassioned lyric beauty,
elevation of diction, and vivid imagery.

The structure of a comedy was far more complicated than
that of the tragedy of the same period. It consisted, first,
of a set prologue; second, the entrance song of the chorus;
then an argument or debating contest between two actors, each
assisted by a half-chorus; next, the parabasis, which was an
address to the audience, asking perhaps for lenience in judg-
ment, or expressing the views of the author on some subject
of current interest, or making witty or scurrilous remarks
about people in the audience; then, a series of comic episodes
separated from each other by choral odes; and lastly, the54 ARISTOPHANES AND THE

exodus, a companion piece to the entrance hymn of the chorus.
The parabasis, it will be noted, had no structural connection
with the plot, and was the first of the special comedy features
to disappear. When the actors were offstage, the chorus
united ; but when the actors were present, the chorus was often
divided, so that one part could answer the other in antiphonal
fashion.

The Old Comedy kept the privileges of the early revel-rout
in the way of slandering and persecuting prominent persons,
and in making use of ribald subjects. Public characters were
constantly attacked on the stage, frequently under their own
names. Men like Socrates, Pericles, and Euripides were lam-
pooned without mercy. While the prevailing tone of tragedy
was religious, that of comedy was political, The plots were
usually invented, or taken more or less from real life.

The fame and power of Aristophanes rested not so much
upon any one given achievement, as upon the exuberance and
abundance of his laughter-provoking spirit. It is almost an
injustice to quote him; for while a single jest or even a page
of fooling may seem childish, trivial, or unduly coarse, the sum
of his work offers an almost inexhaustible volume of merri-
ment. He was a Niagara of comic genius flowing over and
about his age, drowning it in ridicule. He picks up jests, makes
puns, indulges in personalities, cheap gags and wheezes,
runs a joke to earth and then turns it into new laughter,
makes topical songs, gives dialect scenes, parodies anybody
and everybody. He makes Prometheus hide under an um-
brella from the thunderbolts of Zeus, puts lines of poetry into
the scales to see which are the heavier, uses slapstick methods
with donkeys and slaves, invents queer oaths like “Gadzooks !”
telescopes words as did Lewis Carroll, travesties the teachings
of Socrates, and creates a topsy-turvy world.

The Frogs. This famous play was produced at the Lenzan
festival at Athens in 405 B.c., when it won the first prize. It
is concerned with the adventures of the god Dionysus and his
servant Xanthias as they make their way to Hades. Dionysus
is an absurd figure in lion-skin, mustard-colored silk tunic, and
high-heeled shoes. He carries a club. Xanthias rides a donkey

2
a WaTGREEK COMEDY WRITERS 55

and carries a huge bundle of luggage on his back. They
quarrel and bicker, get mixed up in adventures with Hercules,
with a corpse, with Charon, with a pretty girl. Master and
servant are mistaken one for the other, and only a beating can
determine which is which. They arrive in Hades, where there
is a trial by scales to determine which is the better poet,
ZEschylus or Euripides. When they were starting on their
journey Hercules had said to them,

“But aren’t there other pretty fellows here
All writing tragedies by tens of thousands,
And miles verboser than Euripides?”

In Hades, however, nothing will do but a trial between the
two poets. They will weigh the poetry line by line,—but who
will be the judge? There are too many jail-birds in Athens,
and no critics, that is the trouble, says Xanthias. It is decided
at last that Dionysus himself shall be the judge. There follows
the most amazing trial of all literature. The chorus sings a
parody of the best known passages from each author. The
parody of Euripides runs:

“Halcyons ye by the flowing sea,

Waves that warble twitteringly,

Circling over the tumbling blue,

Dipping your down in its briny dew,
Spi-i-iders in corners dim,

Spi-spi-spinning your fairy film,

Shuttles echoing round the room,

Silver notes of the whistling loom,

Where the light-footed dolphin skips

Down the wake of the dark-prowed ships,
Over the course of the racing steed,

Where the clustering tendrils breed

Grapes to drown dull care in delight!

Oh, make me a child again just for tonight!

I don’t myself see how that last line is to scan,
But that’s a consideration I leave to our musical man.” *

When Euripides sees ZEschylus he cries, “I know him, I’ve
seen through him years ago, Bard of the ‘noble savage’,
1 Translation by Frere.56 ARISTOPHANES AND THE

wooden-mouthed, no door, no bolt, no bridle to his tongue, a
torrent of bombast, tied in bundles!” It is some time before
Zéschylus gets a chance to speak, but when he does he retorts:

“You phrase collector, blind beggar-bard and scum of rifled
rag-bags! You and your dancing solos! You andthe ugly
amours that you set to verse!” Throughout the play there
is a liberal criticism of plays, authors, and their methods. The
lines are weighed. They argue over repetitions, over ques-
tions of truth, over figures of speech. In a word contest,
ZEschylus insultingly caps everything that Euripides tries to
say with a tag—“lost your smelling salts!” In the end A‘schy-
lus is triumphant.

Aristophanes as a critic of his times. It cannot be claimed
that Aristophanes always gave a fair judgment of men, or a
true picture of affairs at Athens. He was a good hater, and
could make the worse appear the better cause when he chose.
He believed that Euripides was largely to blame for the decay
of Greek tragedy; that Socrates, who to him represented the
Sophists, was an absurd, farcical figure and a corrupter of
youth; and that the political policy of Athens, as a “tyrant
state”, was suicidal and wrong. He loathed the vulgarity,
and love of flattery, the greed, the passion for litigation and
the low type of public men that had superseded the old
Athenian aristocracy. *

On the whole, Aristophanes must be recognized as one of
the most vigorous and renovating forces in all drama. He
claimed that he was always outspoken on the side of virtue
against vice; and he made good his claim. He was extrava-
gant, full of the motley spirit of carnival, turning the most
solemn creatures of his world into comic pictures; but he was
in dead earnest. The world to him was full of cowards, hum-
bugs, liars and charlatans, and his business was to discredit
them. Demagogues, philosophers, and rhetoricians were his
especial abomination. THis ideal was the plain, sturdy citizen
of the old school which beat the Persians at Marathon. Two
other characteristics, his modern tang of thought and his
ability to write gorgeous poetry, should not be forgotten.
With changed conditions, one could easily imagine him as a

eaeGREEK COMEDY WRITERS 57

political cartoonist of the present day, so striking is his gift
for epitomizing a bit of current history; and in his poetry he
could be as impassioned, as picturesque and as vivid as
Euripides himself.

Middle Comedy. The change from personal attacks to a
more general criticism of conditions marks the transition from
the Old Comedy to the Middle. Not only the themes, but also
the details of form were gradually altered. The parabasis
was abandoned, and later the chorus was given up for reasons
of economy. In the meantime a law had been passed pro-
hibiting any mention of public characters by name. Aris-
tophanes, with his genius, could to a certain extent elude these
legal restrictions; but in the nature of things the law did in
time effectively deprive the comic writers of the privilege of
personal attack.

Instead of criticism by direct attack, we find in Middle
Comedy insinuation, polished insolence, and the wit of innu-
endo. The gods of the old religion and old-fashioned religious
ideas, however, were still openly ridiculed. The Academy of
Plato, the newly revived sect of the Pythagoreans, and most
of the orators and poets of the day were slyly derided. The
Athenians were laughing over a satire on the myths in a play
called Gigantomachia (The War of the Giants) by Hegemon,
a Thasian, at the very moment when the news of the great
Sicilian disaster (413 B.C.) was brought to Athens.

The names of thirty-seven comic poets belonging to the
period of Middle Comedy are preserved,—many more than
are known to Old Comedy. The new mode leaned toward the
play of manners, with many interpolations of literary criti-
cism, parodies, and burlesques of the myths. With Middle
Comedy began the creation of stock types—the fawning ser-
vant, the conceited cook, the stupid, sensual old man, the
bragging soldier. Under different names these characters, in
succeeding epochs, have appeared and reappea?ed on the stages
of the world with a kind of shameless immortality.

New Comedy. In its outward aspect the New Comedy can
scarcely be distinguished from the Middle. It is usually dated
from 338 B.c., the year of the conquest of the Macedonian

~ a | bs

.
4
;58 ARISTOPHANES AND THE

king. Slightly diversified stock types—the cunning slave, the
roysterer, the gallant captain, the scolding wife—were added
to the familiar stage figures, as these became more and more
conventional. Before the middle of the fourth century the
chorus had generally disappeared. Actors still wore masks.
The love theme now became a common subject, but it was not
the more delicate forms of romantic love which commended
themselves to the writers of the New Comedy. The situations
were almost invariably coarse, and the implications indecent.
The work of “humanizing” the drama begun by Euripides a
hundred years before, was now carried to its logical conclu-
sion. Pictures of everyday life took the place of ideal con-
ceptions. Human nature as it was replaced the portrayals of
human nature as it should be.

Menander. 342-290 B.c. Sixty-four names survive from
the New Comedy, the most famous of which are Philemon,
Menander, and Diphilus. No single complete play of any one
of these writers is in existence, but large fragments are known.
Menander, the greatest of the three, was practically the last
great original poet of Athens, as he was also the first writer
of elegant social comedy. He wrote at least one hundred
plays and gained the prize eight times. Fragments, discovered
as late as 1905, give six hundred lines of a play called The
Guardians, and four hundred and fifty from another called
The Shorn Lamb. Menander was something of a popular idol
during his lifetime, and became one of the prime favorites
among the authors of antiquity. He was frequently imitated,
and his plays were “adapted’”’ for the Roman stage. Terence
followed both the style and the plots of Menander. Saint Paul
quoted him, and his epigrams and pithy sayings seem to have
been on everybody’s lips.

Menander’s service to drama lies in the fact that he discov-
ered a comedy formula for the play of contemporary man-
ners—a formula with just the right mixture of ridicule,
suavity, wit and flattery. He portrayed the fast life of Athens
with quiet mastery. We can detect also, through the Terentian
imitations, a more serious purpose, which is well described by
Cruttwell in his History of Roman Literature:GREEK COMEDY WRITERS 59

“To base conduct upon reason rather than upon tradition, and
paternal authority upon kindness rather than fear; to give up the
vain attempt to coerce youth into the narrow path of age; to grap-
ple with life as a whole by making the best of each difficulty when
it arises; to live in comfort by means of mutual concession and
not to plague ourselves with unnecessary troubles—such are some
of the principles indicated in these plays of Menander which Ter-
ence so skilfully adapted, and whose lessons he set before a
younger and more vigorous people.”

General nature of Greek comedy. Sophisticated as Greek
comedy was, yet it is interesting to note its reliance upon the
same features which were used by the savage play-actors,—
dancing and singing, song duels and debating contests, the use
of grotesque masks, the impersonation and imitation of ani-
mals, and fighting an enemy by ridicule. The writers of
comedy came much nearer to being a mirror of their own times
than did the tragic poets, though great allowance must still
be made for the exaggerations, the partisanship, and the lam-
pooning privileges enjoyed by the former. The plays abound
in local hits, references to events of the day and the slang of
the moment. We see something of the real Athenian through
the eyes of Aristophanes or Menander. We see their innate
sociability, their democratic spirit, their literary tendencies,
their love of novelty, frugality, and enjoyment in exposing the
weaknesses of their fellow men. Sometimes they were cruel
in their laughter; often their jokes seem amazingly modern.
Was Aristophanes the first wag to accuse the sausage-makers
of using dog and donkey meat? He makes fun of the high
forehead of Pericles; makes Scythian policemen talk with a
brogue, like the Irish stage policeman of our own day; jests
about the married man, saying with mock pity that only the
other day he saw the poor thing alive and walking about. He
ridicules the Athenians for everlastingly bragging about their
fine figs, their honey, their myrtle berries and their Propylea.
Menander, after losing the prize to a friend, asks him, “Don't
you feel ashamed every time you take the prize away from
me?”

Underneath the vivacity, the irreverence, and even the scur-

F
3
i]
}SiS

60 GREEK COMEDY WRITERS

rility of Greek comedy can be detected two purposes: first to
amuse a very shrewd and critical audience; and, secondly, to
give vent to a running fire of criticism upon every phase of
public and private life. Oddly enough, the judgments of these
comic writers were often quite like the judgments of the
moral reformers.CHAPTER VIII

ARISTODLE, CLASSIC LECHNIOUE, AND THE
LATER GREEK DRAMA

It is possible for a play to observe all the essential rules arising
from the conditions of a performance in a theater, and before an
audience, and yet be so lacking in poetry, in truth to life, in inher-
ent worth, as to be undeserving the name of drama.—Roy FLIck-
INGER, The Greek Theater and Its Drama.

The living center of Aristotle’s criticism is a conception of art
as a means to a good life—J. MippLeton Murry, Aspects of Lit-
erature.

It is to the Greeks that we owe not only the first great plays,
but also the first principles of criticism and of dramatic con-
struction. Not every Athenian was a good critic, as some
would have us think; but we know that the comic poets took
it upon themselves to deliver judgments, to compare one writer
with another, and in some measure, to lay down the laws of
drama. It fell, however, to Aristotle,» a philosopher and
teacher born in the first quarter of the fourth century, to be-
come not only the most important mouthpiece of Greek
dramatic criticism, but also one of the most important influ-
ences in all the history of literature. He analyzed the plays of
the fifth century as well as those of his own time, classified
the kinds of drama, and laid down rules for the construction
of tragedy.

Aristotle had the very human characteristic of harking back
to the good old days, and thinking them much better than the
days in which he lived. Taking scant account of A¢schylus,
he regarded Sophocles and Euripides as models in tragedy.
His chief complaints were that the poets of his own time
spoiled their work by rhetorical display; that the actor was

1 Sometimes called the Stagyrite, from Stagyria, his birthplace.
oI62 ARISTOTLE, CLASSIC TECHNIQUE,

often of more importance than the play; and that the poets
tampered with the plot in order to give a favorite actor an
opportunity of displaying his special talent. He said that the
poets were deficient in the power of portraying character, and
that it was not even fair to compare them with the giants of
a former era; that the drama was greatly in need of fresh
topics, new treatment, and original ideas; that it was polished
in diction, but lacking in force and vitality. The playwrights
too frequently made use of the god-from-the-machine for the
purpose of extricating characters from their troubles. Such
was the tenor of Aristotle’s “reviews” and criticisms.

The general principles of Aristotle. The greatest tragedy,
in the opinion of Aristotle, was Cedipus the King by Sophocles.
The reasons for its supremacy lay in the excellent manage-
ment of plot and chorus, in the beauty of language, in the irony
of the situations, and in the general nobility of conception.
Aristotle cited also the Helena of Euripides as a model of its
kind, and lauded the author for the skill with which he had
set forth the complicated plot. Euripides was to him the most
tragic of the poets. At the same time, he found much in
Euripides to censure. Only in Sophocles, the perfect writer,
were united ideal beauty, clearness of construction and religious
inspiration—the three qualities which alone make tragedy
great.

The subjects of tragic drama, Aristotle said, were rightly
drawn from the ancient mythology, because coming from that
source they must be true. If man had invented such strange
incidents, they would have appeared impossible. The chief
characters of a tragic action should be persons of consequence,
of exalted station. The leading personage should not be a
man characterized by great virtue or great vice, but of a mixed
nature, partly good and partly bad. His errors and weaknesses
lead him into misfortune. Such a mixture of good and evil
makes him seem like ourselves, thus more quickly arousing
our sympathy. The course of the tragic action should be such
as to saturate the spectator with feelings of compassion, drive
out his petty personal emotions, and so “purge” the soul
through pity and terror (Catharsis). The crimes suitable forAND THE LATER GREEK DRAMA 63

tragic treatment may be committed either in ignorance, or
intentionally, and are commonly against friends or relatives.
Crimes committed intentionally are generally the more dramatic
and impressive. (This in spite of the fact that the central
crime in CEdipus the King was committed in ignorance.) As
to style, a certain archaic quality of diction is needful to the
dignity of tragedy.

The three unities. The most famous of the Aristotelian
rules were those relating to the so-called unities—of time,
place, and action. The unity of time limits the supposed action
to the duration, roughly, of a single day; unity of place
limits it to one general locality; and unity of action limits it
to a single set of incidents which are related as cause and
effect, “having a beginning, a middle, and an end.’”’ Concern-
ing the unity of time, Aristotle noted that all the plays since
ZEschylus, except two, did illustrate such unity, but he did not
lay down such a precept as obligatory. Perhaps tacitly he
assumed that the observance of the unity of place would be
the practice of good playwrights, since the chorus was present
during the whole performance, and it would indeed be awkward
always to devise an excuse for moving fifteen persons about
from place to place. The third unity, that of action, is bound
up with the nature not only of Greek but of all drama.

Greek drama more concerned with plot than with character.
Aristotle conceived the action, or plot, of a play as of far
greater importance than the characters. This conception he
gained from the plays of the fifth century, which, in general,
centered around a personified passion rather than around a
character. The action was “the vital principle and very soul
of drama.” Again he says, “Tragedy is an imitation, not of
men, but of actions.” Second in importance was characteri-
zation; and third were the sentiments aroused by the action.
He insisted very clearly that in tragedy the plot does not rise
out of the characters, but on the contrary the plot tests the
characters through the working-out of destiny—‘blind fate.”
The main duty of the dramatist was to organize first the action,
then display the moral character of his people under the blows
of fate. “The incidents of the action, and the structural order-64 ARISTOTLE, CLASSIC TECHNIQUE,

ing of these incidents, constitute the end and purpose of
tragedy.”* Finally, and perhaps most important of all, was
Aristotle’s belief that although tragedy should purge the emo-
tions through pity and terror, yet all drama was meant to en-
tertain: tragedy through the sympathies, comedy through
mirth.

Perversion of Aristotle’s principles. In this manner was
begun the formulated technique of the drama. The principles
enunciated by Aristotle were deduced from a study of the plays
which were effective in his time, and under the conditions of the
Athenian stage; but as time went on, critics and playwrights
often studied Aristotle instead of plays, and left out of con-
sideration differing circumstances and conditions. In this way,
rules, created for the open-air Athenian production, were ap-
plied indiscriminately to all sorts of stages, whether indoors or
out. Many writers failed to recognize the new life in their own
art, and missed seeing the truth that a first-hand observation of
life is always of more value than rules of any sort. Therefore
an immemorial war has been waged between the sticklers for
old laws, on the one side, and, on the other, the genuinely cre-
ative writers. In no art has this war been more apparent than
in the drama; and in no art have rigid rules been more op-
pressive. There have been long periods when the dominance
of technical rules, wholly or partially outgrown, has sterilized
and all but killed the theater.

Records and preservation of the plays. The archons of Ath-
ens kept records of the contests at both the city festivals, giv-
ing the names of the choregoi (citizens appointed to defray
part of the expenses of the production), the poet-teachers
(called didascaloi), the actors, plays, and victors in the con-
tests. Aristotle published these records in the fourth century.
In the meantime, special copies of the great tragedies of
/Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides had been preserved. The
rapid growth of theaters all over the Hellenic world made the
business of providing plays, both old and new, an important
one. With the need of many new plays appeared the “adapters”
and manipulators, who so corrupted the texts of the poets that

2From Aristotle on “The Art of Poetry,’ by Lane Cooper.AND THE LATER GREEK DRAMA 65

the Athenians were forced to pass a law prohibiting the making
of any change in the original version. When this law was
passed, authorized copies of the plays were made; and when-
ever one of them was given, a public secretary was appointed
to attend, with official copy in hand, to note any deviation from
the genuine text. The producer who permitted such maltreat-
ment of the lines was punished. Fragments of plays were
often preserved, however, by the process of “contamination,”—
a frequent practice of Latin producers,—which consisted of
taking two Greek plays and combining them to make one Latin
play.

In the third century before our era a collection of tragedies
and satyr plays was made for the library at Alexandria.
Scholars of that city also drew up a canon of famous writers,
probably for educational purposes; and the works of the
writers included in the canon were preserved in numerous cop-
ies. Many catalogues, chronological lists and yearly records
must also have been published and placed in the libraries of the
known world, together with authorized copies of the original
works. But nearly all such copies, lists and catalogues have
disappeared. The modern world owes the preservation of such
plays as we have to the teachers and grammarians of the early
Christian centuries, especially to those at Byzantium. Nearly
a thousand years after the Gédipus was written, probably in
the fifth century of our era, certain plays were selected for
study in the schools. Seven were taken from A¢schylus, seven
from Sophocles, eight (or nine, if the Rhesus be included)
from Euripides, and eleven from Aristophanes. Ten more
from Euripides were preserved by other means. The dramas
so selected were supplied with commentaries (scholia) and
were given in the regular courses of study during the Middle
Ages. Consequently these plays were reproduced in many
copies.

Followers of the great poets. Even though we have no
specimens of plays from the centuries immediately following
the “golden” age, yet there was enormous dramatic activity.
Theatrical entertainments were practically universal. The
names of fourteen hundred playwrights are preserved, though66 ARISTOTLE, CLASSIC TECHNIQUE,

their plays are lost. The theatrical tradition seemed to run in
families. Phrynicus and Pratinas each had a son who became a
playwright; and Euphorion, the son of Aischylus, took part in
the contests, offering both his own and his father’s plays. The
two sons of Sophocles, Ariston and Iophon, were also known
as tragic poets. Sometimes the gift descended to the grandson
or grand-nephew, as in the case of Morsimus, son of Philocles,
who was the nephew of A‘schylus.

The building of theaters. From Sicily in the west to Phoe-
nicia on the east—over the whole Hellenic world—appeared
new theaters, many of which were built of stone. Dramatic
contests were organized on the Athenian plan. For a time
these contests were usually associated with the Dionysiac fes-
tivals; but in course of time they became a part of the pro-
gram in ceremonies devoted to other gods. Later they were
dissociated from religious festivals altogether, and used simply
as secular entertainments, though never to such a degree in the
ancient world as in the modern. Actors organized themselves
into guilds. Kings and princes patronized the theater, often
using it as the means of extravagant personal display. Haigh
relates that Alexander the Great “was accustomed to celebrate
the close of his campaigns with theatrical exhibitions on a
scale of unapproachable splendor. Pavilions of silver and gold
were erected, at such times, for the reception of the guests;
the best actors were hired from every city of Greece; and sub-
ject kings were often compelled to fill the office of choregoi.
On one occasion no less than three thousand performers were
collected to take part in the various musical and dramatic com-
petitions. From this time forward, gorgeous dramatic spec-
tacles became the favorite amusement with the famous princes
of the time. Antiochus the Great is said‘to have surpassed all
previous monarchs in the splendor of his shows; and Antony
and Cleopatra, in the winter before the final campaign against
Augustus, wasted their time at Samos in a long series of simi-
lar entertainments.”

Weaknesses of later dramatists. Such was the prestige that
dramatic performances acquired in the course of a few cen-
turies. The history of drama, however, is none the richer for

sae TGAND THE LATER GREEK DRAMA 67

these sumptuous imperial entertainments. If any masterpieces
were written during those later days, they have been lost and
all records of them forgotten. The names of some of the
writers are known; also a few fragments, a few literary tradi-
tions, and the jokes of the comic writers—that is all. In Alex-
andria, in the days of its glory, there rose a set of brilliant
poets, seven of whom became celebrated under the title of the
Pleiad; and later still there appeared a group of “literary
dramatists’ who wrote not for the stage, but for public decla-
mation or private reading. Such writers merely used the dra-
matic form, they did not produce drama. Many of them wrote
in order to teach some political or philosophical doctrine.
These were the signs of ebbing life; and as life went out, rules
and dogmatic traditions were the more zealously followed.

Meaning of “classic”? The word “classic” has at least two
meanings in common use: first, as a designation of any work
of art which has to a certain extent withstood the test of time;
and secondly, as a designation of works of art which are mod-
eled more or less after Greek or Latin examples. In this book
the word is generally used in the second meaning. The repre-
sentatives of the classic school are the Greek dramatists al-
ready considered, and the Latin writers who followed the mod-
els of the Greek. They established a certain kind of play, with
heroic characters, and a remote and often majestic setting.
Their style was usually marked by clearness, symmetry of
form, restraint, and finish of detail. There were many lyric
touches ; but in general it was free from the extravagances, the
surprises, the changes of mood and the individual emotion
which belong to the romantic school.

Thus the great phenomenon of Greek drama germinated,
came to its rich flowering, and fell into decay within a century.
Its like has never reappeared. It was produced not in the
midst of calm prosperity following the triumphs of war, as
some writers have suggested, but in the very turmoil of politi-
cal contentions in the state, and hostile attacks from without.
It set up a standard of concentrated action, poetic imagery,
and religious fervor towards which the playwrights of suc-
ceeding generations have struggled in vain.CHAPTER IX

GREEK PLOTS, THEATERS, COMPETITIONS, AND
AUDIENCES

The real standard of art is not comparative but qualitative. Art
is not greater or less, it is good or bad, sincere or spurious. Not
many intellectual workers are called to be Aristotles or Newtons
or Pasteurs or Einsteins. But every honest piece of inquiry is
distinctive, individualized; it has its own incommensurable quality,
and performs its own unique service——JoHN Dewey.

With the Greeks, for the first time in history, we have drama
that is also literature. With few exceptions, the plays were
important contributions to religious ceremonials. In many
cases they represent an age far more remote than that in which
they were written. They present gods and the offspring of
gods; and in tragedy they uniformly portray the vain struggle
of man against fate. The form both of tragedy and comedy
was determined by rather rigid rules. The Cdipus and The
Frogs can be set forth, as to structure, like a geometrical de-
sign, symmetrical and complete in itself. All Greek plays
were written in unrhymed verse, the lyrics of the chorus being
susceptible of considerable variation in meter and length of
line.

The extent of the action. The plot of a Greek tragedy did
not cover the whole course of a story, such as is used, for ex-
ample, in King Lear. As a rule it began at the culminating
moment, when the long series of evil and mischance had come
to a crisis. Thus it became necessary for the author to inform
the audience of the preceding events. In the Cdipus this in-
formation is given naturally through the unfolding of the evi-
dence, step by step. The dialogue discloses everything the
spectator ought to know, just at the right time. Such a happy
and natural disclosure, however, was a difficult thing to

68COMPETITIONS AND AUDIENCES 69

achieve: hence the prologue, which in time became an integral
part of every play. Since the action began, as it were, at the
last chapter of the story, and the threads of the plot were al-
ready convergent, the chief purpose of the dramatist was to
show the intensity of emotion, the despair, surprise, or horror
attendant upon the catastrophe, which, as a matter of course,
would be packed into a single scene, and limited in time to a
few hours.

Absence of death scenes. The main outlines of the story
would generally be known to the educated, and perhaps also
to many of the uneducated members of the audience. The sus-
pense lay in the variety of treatment, in the imaginative touches
and in the poetic beauty of the situations. No portrayals of
violence or death, as a general thing, were seen. Such events,
as well as the news of distant battles and the like, were re-
ported by the Messenger, whose speeches soon became an im-
portant feature. Itis sometimes supposed that the Greeks were
too refined to be able to witness scenes of bloodshed; but that
explanation does not quite cover the case. The theater, during
the Dionysiac festival, was the abode of the god: hence it was
sacred. Temple traditions forbade any exposition of scenes
of violence; therefore the actors, the chorus, and the play-
wright were protected and inviolable.

In many Greek plays there are excessively long speeches.
Euripides and Aristophanes made popular concessions to the
love of rhetorical contests by incorporating into their dramas
set arguments or debates. The soliloquy and the aside, often
called the deadly sins of the theater, were frequently used.
The distinction between comedy and tragedy was always main-
tained; but the exact definition of each species was left then,
as it has ever since remained, a doubtful thing. Not all Greek
tragedies end unhappily. The Eumenides of A‘schylus, the
Philoctetes of Sophocles, the Iphigenia and Electra of Euripi-
des,—all these plots end in some sort of happiness or success
for the principal characters.

Subjects and underplot. A modern authority on Greek
drama Professor Roy Flickinger, emphasizes the myth-element
thus; “The subject matter of Greek plays is drawn from Greek

es 5
~

;70 GREEK PLOTS, THEATERS,

mythology as inevitably as a sermon is founded on a biblical
text.” Of the extant tragedies, only one, The Bacchanals of
Euripides, is founded upon the experiences of Dionysus; and
only two plays, The Persians of 7Eschylus and The Capture of
Miletus by Phrynicus, were founded upon historical incidents.
In the brilliant period there was very little treatment of love
between the sexes, either of the romance of youth or of mar-
ried life. In the fourth century and later there was introduced
a good deal of what has come to be known as comic relief ;
also there was often inserted another story about a subordinate
set of characters, whose experiences ran parallel to the main
story. This latter device was called the under-plot, or sec-
ondary plot. It was not used by either 7“schylus or Sophocles,
and was only hinted at in the work of Euripides.

One of the most striking discrepancies between actual con-
temporary life and life as represented by the dramatists lies
in the portraiture of women. In reality, the Greek lady of the
fifth century lived in almost oriental seclusion. She took no
part in public affairs, and was seldom seen outside her home.
The writers of comedy generally pictured respectable women
in this light; but in tragedy the authors reverted to the period
of Homer, when women were socially at least on an equal
footing with men. In many other respects Greek drama fails
as a mirror of the times. One would never suspect, from a
reading of Greek tragedy, that the Athenian of the fifth cen-
tury was one of the most political-minded of men. There are
a few hints of political discussion in Euripides; but it is only
in comedy that one can gain any adequate idea of the Greek’s
preoccupation with political questions.

Greek irony. The well-known classic irony showed itself
mainly in two ways: a character uttered, unknowingly, the
very curse which was destined to fall on his own head; or,
knowingly, he spoke with veiled sarcasm in terms susceptible
of two meanings. In the latter case, the person addressed natu-
rally accepted the words in their obvious, innocent interpreta-
tion; but the audience, as well as the speaker, knew their sin-
ister import. The entire plot in the Gidipus is based on irony.
That a proud and deeply respected king should himself be theCOMPETITIONS AND AUDIENCES 71

culprit whom he and his officers are seeking to bring to jus-
tice—that is the very essence of the ironical. The case is not
subject to condemnation or tearful regret; the dramatist sim-
ply gives a stoical, sophisticated statement of the situation,
which is complicated by the fact that often there is right on
both sides, and that the contestants are blinded by fear or pas-
sion. Professor Flickinger reminds us that the drama fre-
quently resembles a court-room trial, “when the irony arises
from clashing intrigues, and the audience, admitted to the au-
thor’s confidence, and sitting by his side, as it were, joins with
him in awarding praise here and condemnation there.”

The Greek theater. By the year 431 B.c.—the year in which
the Medea of Euripides was exhibited—the drama had become
firmly established at Athens and had also spread throughout
Hellas. Many a man born during the lifetime of Thespis may
have lived to see the rude vaudeville-like show transformed
into an elaborate and beautiful spectacle. In the whole group
of states there was scarcely a town so small or remote that it
did not afford its theater and its yearly festival. Athens her-
self had been beautified beyond all precedent. Its Acropolis
was resplendent with marble temples; and on the southern
slope of this hill of beauty was situated the Theater of Dionysus
Eleuthereus, in a natural open amphitheater. The old wooden
benches had broken down in 499, when an immense crowd had
come to witness the contest between /Eschylus and Pratinas.
Various replacements were made during the fifth century, until
finally a stone structure was built, covering about three-quar-
ters of a circle, and open to the sky. The seats accommodated
perhaps as many as seventeen thousand people, and were set
into the slope of the hill. The exact middle of the circle, which
was of course the lowest spot in the theater, was marked by
the altar (thymele) to Dionysus. Around this altar was the
dancing place, called the orchestra. At the back was a perma-
nent setting—the old skéné, or dressing hut enlarged with pil-
lars and doors. This background represented a temple for
tragedy, or a house for comedy. A part of it may sometimes
have been painted to represent scenery ; but there was no stage,
in the modern sense, and no curtain.72 GREEK PLOTS, THEATERS,

In front of the altar, in the middle of the lowest tier, was
a stone seat reserved for the priest of Dionysus. In the fourth
century it was carved with an inscription indicating the office
of its occupant. Examples of handsomely carved seats are still
in existence. Other places in the front tier were for city offi-
cials, judges, and the archons. Three aisles radiated from the
center, and a transverse aisle cut the three radii halfway up
the slope. Far up, behind the topmost seats, perhaps there
stood even in Sophocles’ day poplar trees into whose branches
truant boys sometimes climbed to steal a glimpse of the play.
To the spectator facing the altar, the city market-place and the
harbor of the Pirzeus with its ships would be on the right, and
the open country on the left. The effect of this scene is thus
described by Mr. Stark Young:

“In the theater of Dionysus the lighting was that of the sun; the
scene was but slightly varied either through shifts or through
light. The gestures were simple and restrained, as we may infer
from the spirit and the style of the plays, and may be sure of from
the difficulties that the costume, the onkos, the padding, and the

high-soled cothurnus would have put in the way of animated mo-

tions .. . the larger part of the effect in the Greek theater was
due to the voices, trained as we train for the opera, and exerted
for a trained public taste. However beautiful the lines of those
garments may have been, their grave and exquisite rhythm and
their subtlety of color in the bright air, the blowing on them of
the wind from the Bay of Salamis, it was the voices of the actors
that achieved much of that effect of tragic beauty. ... To all
that antique world, the ear was the seat of memory.”

Stage appliances. Nowhere in the world has there ever been
used stranger or more artificial mechanism than on the Athe-
nian stage. There were two ways by which an interior could
be shown in the course of an outdoor scene. The general name
for this device was eccyclema. One type was made with a
revolving platform and an opening door; the other was a trun-
dling platform, shoved out before the audience on tracks, carry-
ing the set interior. The most famous of all the appliances
was perhaps that which gave us the phrase “god-from-the-
machine.” ‘This contrivance, sometimes called simply the ‘‘ma-

ee TECOMPETITIONS AND AUDIENCES 73

chine,” was a crane-and-pulley arrangement by which the god
could be lowered from heaven and caught up again. It may
have been used for the first time at the performance in 431.
The machine was often kept so busy that its use brought down
ridicule from the comic poets. In earlier days the god stood
on the roof of the dressing hut and spoke from there.

Besides the eccyclema and the machine, it was possible to
represent falling or burning houses, to bring chariots, dragons,
and winged beasts on the stage, to send spirits into the lower
regions, and to produce thunder and lightning. Problems of
stage lighting, however, did not exist; for ghosts walked by
daylight, storms and night scenes were enacted under the same
conditions, There were no playbills, no division into acts,
therefore no intermission except between plays.

The state as manager. Neither the management of the fes-
tival nor the production of the plays was left wholly to private
enterprise. The state owned the theater and determined what
poets should be allowed to give their pieces. A committee first
passed upon all the offerings, and granted a chorus to such as
they deemed worthy of exhibition. The state paid the salary
of the actors, supplied the prizes, and made the rules by which
the competitions were governed. There still remained a heavy
part for the private citizen to do. Each year it was decided by
lot which of the wealthy Athenians should have the privilege
of paying the salaries of the chorus, besides the cost of the
trainer and the costumes, This citizen was called the choregos.

The nature of the competitions. About the time Thespis
came to Athens, Pisistratus (called the Tyrant) organized com-
petitions for the tragic poets, to be conducted at the annual
festivals in honor of Dionysus. The most important of these
celebrations, the City Dionysia, occurred probably toward the
end of March and lasted at least for five or six days. Two
lesser festivals, the Lenza in January and the Anthesteria in
February, were also in honor of the god of the vine. Froma
list of distinguished Athenians ten judges were chosen by lot.
Prizes were awarded each contestant, first, second, or third,
according to the rating. In the early days the prize for trag-
edy was a laurel wreath and a goat; later a tripod. For com-

me eer a aL il a 474 GREEK PLOTS, THEATERS,

edy the original prize was a jar of wine. By the year 431 a
small sum of money was probably awarded, in addition to the
wreath. Admission to the competitions was in itself a greatly
coveted honor. Prizes were given not only for the best plays,
but also for the best acting.

Women came to see the tragedies, but seldom remained for
the comedies; if they did, the cloak of symbolism must have
done duty in covering some very broad scenes. Men and
women of all classes rubbed elbows, without much respect of
persons. Slaves and children could come if their masters or
parents would pay; and if a citizen were too poor to afford
the two obols—about six cents—the state gave him the money
for his admission. On certain occasions prisoners were re-
leased for the day. Schools were transferred bodily to the
theater, and men of highest learning and position did not dis-
dain to attend. Even Socrates, who did not ordinarily go to
the play, might possibly have been seen at the festival in 431,
since Euripides, his friend, was one of the competitors.

Announcing and giving the play. A few days before the
City Dionysia began, a full announcement of the performances
was given by means of a ceremony called the proagon. Ata
public meeting-place the poets, the actors without their masks,
and the choregot were presented by name to the public by a
herald. It was made clear what pieces were to be presented,
their subject, and what actors were to take part. With the ar-
rival of the first day of the festival, all Athens would be alive
very early in the morning to take part in the great procession
which opened the event and was designed to escort the statue
of Dionysus from the temple, his home, to the theater. The
temple in Athens, however, was situated only a few yards
from the stage; consequently the actual journey would have
been short. But the Greeks did not always take the shortest
cut. The statue was mounted on a wagon-ship and hauled by
youths some distance out of the city towards Eleuthere; from
there it was hauled back to the theater and placed in a con-
spicuous position, where it remained as the silent witness of
the festivities. On the journey to the edge of the city and
back the entire free-born population of the city acted as escort.COMPETITIONS AND AUDIENCES 75

The plays probably were given during the last three days of
the festival, and were scheduled to begin at daybreak. Three
tragedies and one satyr play from each competing poet made
up the program. The first play opened by one of the actors
coming forward and reciting the prologue, or by the advent
of the chorus in a slow dance movement or march. The chorus,
of course, was none other than the group of dithyrambic sing-
ers of the olden days; but the goat-skin costumes had been dis-
carded, and never appeared except in the satyr plays. For
tragedy, the chorus numbered fifteen; for comedy, twenty-
four. risouchout the performance the chorus was present,
sympathizing with the chief character, relating to the audience
parts of the story which had taken place before the action
began, or delivering a sermon on the moral lesson of the play.
In the great days the chorus was an essential and important
feature; but after the fifth century its connection with the plot
became more and more relaxed, until it survived only as an
ornamental addition.

The actors. In the early part of the fifth century the poet-
dramatists were also the chief actors, and did most of the work
of training the choruses. A%schylus and Sophocles had to in-
vent and teach the art of acting, so far as it progressed beyond
the primitive stage. The poetic character of the lines required
great accuracy, and it is probable that all of the Greek actors
of the great age were men of learning and breeding. A‘schy-
lus acted in all his own plays; but Sophocles early in life gave
up speaking parts, on account of the weakness of his voice.
The actors, three in number, were always men; supers and
mutes were freely used. In the large amphitheater facial ex-
pression would naturally be lost; therefore the actors wore
conventionalized masks, faces idealized for tragedy, carica-
tured for comedy. The stock figures—the garrulous old man,
the god, the messenger, the slave—could at once be recognized
by their masks. It is thought that the voice was magnified
by a special mouthpiece, and that the height of the actor was
increased by the use of the cothurnus, or thick-soled shoe. The
actors stood on a level with the chorus in the space back of the
altar; and with their long flowing hair, their graceful robes of

i
2
2
:
/76 GREEK PLOTS, THEATERS,

gorgeous colors, and their stately movements they undoubtedly
had the appearance of conventional beauty.

The temper of the public. If in imagination we could take
our place among the throng present at the competitions of 431
B.c., we should feel a thrill at the beauty of the scene,—the
sky brilliantly blue, the waters of the bay sparkling, the fields
fresh with spring verdure. On the stage is a scene of stately
magnificence. Poetry, music, and dancing are there, all sup-
plementing and enriching the play. As the story unfolds, we
too are swept away by the excitement of the crowd and the
lure of the tragic story. As the day wears on, the place be-
comes the scene of many a noisy contention. The playwright
has his own particular group of friends and partisans, and a
well organized claque. When a daring speech is made the
claque applauds, while another group hisses it down. Some of
the audience whistle and boo, while others cheer and stamp
their feet. Tragic as the story is, laughter and shouts break
out if either actor or author should happen to offend some
ruffan in the crowd. When the turn for comedy arrives, the
audience becomes hilarious, undisciplined, full of dangerous
whims. Figs, olives, and even stones are sometimes thrown at
the comedians, who in turn make capital out of the occurrence
by turning it into a joke. At the satyr play, the goat-chorus
and Dionysus appear, full of ribaldry and merriment. At the
end of the festival comes the decision of the judges, eagerly
awaited. In those times, as in ours, “the decision of the um-
pire was often roundly cursed.” The three tragic poets who
were contending in 431 were Euphorion, son of /#schylus,
Sophocles and Euripides. We do not know what plays were
offered by the first two poets; but of the three tragedies of-
fered by Euripides, one was the Medea. Euphorion won the
first place, Sophocles the second, and Euripides the third.

Although many circumstances in the Greek play were not
those of contemporary life, yet in certain ways Greek drama
is a profound revelation of fifth-century Athens. In it was re-
flected the citizens’ pride. All the poets brag about the splen-
dor of their city, its reputation as a refuge, its hospitality, its
impregnable strength. We see the native admiration for alert-COMPETITIONS AND AUDIENCES 77

ness, wit, and quick responsiveness. The Greek love of de-
ciding questions by lot is reflected in the conduct of the com-
petitions. The Greeks, like the modern French, were adept in
making formal rules and in introducing order into their artis-
tic enterprises,—and this trait is shown in their drama. Rhe-
torical contests and debates could always be counted upon to
make a successful scene in a play.

“Crude in certain ways the Greek drama is, as we cannot help
admitting; but still it is the most wonderful in all the long history
of the theater, because it is the only great drama which has been
wrought out by a single people, wholly without any aid from the
outside, with absolutely no model to profit by... . This they did,
and this no modern race has been able to do, because the dramatic
literature of every modern language has come, at one time or an-
other, directly or indirectly, under the influence of Greek
tragedy.” ?

It is no exaggeration to say that the early masters of drama
were teachers; this statement, however, does not mean that in
Athens the playhouse was a school. In a sense it was both a
school and a church; yet it was something more than that.
The drama was a medium through which the playwrights could
express their opinion, or their guess, about the riddle of human
suffering, the relation of man to the gods, and the destiny of
the human soul. Without the influence of these dramas, it is
difficult to imagine what literary history would have been. The
raw materials of the dramatic art were everywhere in the
world; it was the Greeks who discovered it and moulded it
into form. Almost instantly the new creation seemed to spring
into life; and though it has lapsed and died, yet it has always
sprung up again in new forms, With the possible exception of
music, it is the most popular of the arts; and it is to the ever-
lasting glory of the Greeks that they set a standard which has
been a challenge to every succeeding generation of playwrights.

1 Brander Matthews, The Development of the Drama.

ear yet ~ 7CHAPTER X
HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

For reasons to be sought in political and social history, the Latin
drama never throve after its brilliant beginnings in the Middle
Republic. . . . But the modern rediscovery of large portions of
Menander has emphasized our appreciation of Plautus and Ter-
ence as dramatists of high genius, who fully deserve their tradi-
tional fame, and who may be not only studied, but read, with un-
abated interest—J. W. Macxkal_.

Compared with the Greeks, the Romans showed little genius
for the theater. In the nine centuries following the great
period of the Athenian drama, they grew strong politically,
conquered the larger part of the known world including Greece
itself, established an empire, and contributed much to civiliza-
tion; but in all that time almost nothing was added either to
the technique of the theater or to the art of the dramatist.
There was no Euripides, no Shakespeare, no Moliére. In this
art, as in others, they were conquered by the very people over
whom they boasted conquest. They produced three great play-
wrights—Plautus, Terence, and Seneca; but the work of these
men was based upon Greek models. Latin technique, plots,
theaters and actors were all more or less copies of their Athe-
nian predecessors.

Traces of native drama. The word histrio, meaning actor,
from which our word histrionic is derived, came from the
Etruscans—those mysterious people whose civilization preceded
that of the Romans on the Italian peninsula. They had the-
atrical entertainments, but we know little about them. We do
know something, however, about the early art of the Latins.
Before they were overtaken by the passion for Greek art and
literature, there were in existence several forms of mimetic art,
mostly belonging to comedy and farce. The Fescennine songs,

78HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME 79

for example, seem to have been of the nature of lyrical dia-
logues accompanied by rude jokes and banter, and were fre-
quently used at wedding celebrations. As a rule they were
extemporaneous. The singers gave humorous representations
of contemporary life, using current slang and often attacking
respectable citizens with libellous insinuations. Like the Old
Comedy of the Greeks, this entertainment gave too much op-
portunity for scamps to vilify their more decent neighbors, and
its license was soon curtailed. The Fescennine singers wore
masks which were sometimes made of bark.

The Atellane, another form of play-acting, consisted of
comic episodes and pantomime, in which several actors took
part. They were of the nature of rustic skits, much like a
modern vaudeville piece, and became popular in Rome at an
early date. The fun was generally restricted to the canons of
good taste. Men of letters occupied their leisure time in com-
posing these Atellan fables, while youths of fashion and of
good family put on masks and acted in them. The dramatis
persone soon became stereotyped stock figures: Pappus, the
old man; Bucco, the braggart; Maccus, the intriguing slave.
In this conventionalized manner they continued for centuries,
and survived in many out-of-the-way places during the changes
from Republic to Empire, and so on into the Middle Ages.

There existed also in the early Roman days a sort of pot-
pourri called the satura, consisting of flute playing, pantomimic
dancing, songs and humorous dialogue. The satura was not
extemporaneous, but regularly composed, with such subjects
as the birth and adventures of Romulus and Remus, the rape
of the Sabine women, and the wicked arrogance of Tarquin.

All these activities were indigenous. To an outsider, it
would seem that the beginnings of drama in Italy were quite as
promising as the Athenian comus dances and goat choruses.
The promise of a national art, however, was not fulfilled. No
poet rose to glorify the Roman legends on the stage. During
the third and second centuries before our era the native enter-
tainments, as well as the home-grown literature, were largely
set aside in favor of importations. The group of Latin writers
who followed the Punic wars (which formally ended in 24180 HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

B.c.) ignored the native traditions, translating or imitating the
more highly developed literature of the conquered Greeks.
Among these writers were five tragic poets, all of whom at-
tained positions of considerable distinction.

The early poets and the first formal play in Rome. The
earliest of the Latin tragic poets was Livius Andronicus, a
Greek slave from Tarentum, who had the distinction of pre-
senting the first formal play ever given at Rome. This pre-
miére occurred in 240 B.c., and made a great impression upon
the uncultured inhabitants of the city. The second poet was
Nevius, an Italian though probably not a Roman citizen. He
made translations from the Greek, both of tragedy and comedy.
At least two of his plays, however, were built upon historical
events connected with Rome. Plays of this sort, with the
theme taken from Roman history but composed in Greek form,
were called pretexte or togate, in distinction to the palliate,
which were Greek plots translated or freely adapted into Latin.
Nevius considered himself, probably with some justice, a
champion of the native modes of thought. His works con-
tinued to be popular for centuries after his death; but his
voice was almost the only one lifted up in support of the native
style and subjects. If, at that time, there had risen. other poets
bold enough to throw off the fast tightening bonds of Greek in-
fluence, perhaps Rome would have had a drama expressive of
her own life. However, no such poet appeared.

Ennius (239-169 B.c.), called the “Father of Roman poetry,”
was only an additional power in behalf of the Greeks, In his
youth he probably saw tragedies performed in Magna Grecia,
and therefore was able to bring into Rome Athenian methods of
production. He stands out as a manly, vigorous figure, an en-
ergetic and industrious scholar. At the same time it was surely
he, more than any one else, who at the critical moment con-
firmed the taste of the Romans for their imported models.
Largely through the work of Cicero, there are preserved a
number of fragments and the titles of a score of tragedies from
the hand of Ennius; and more than half of the plays are ob-
viously based upon the Homeric fables. From his time, Latin
drama wears the Greek dress without shame or apology.HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME 81

Pacuvius (220-130 B.c.), a relative of Ennius, became cele-
brated as a tragic poet; but he did little more than to spread
still further a knowledge of the Greek originals. Various an-
cient writers testify to his popularity, and Cicero relates how,
at a certain performance, the audience rose spontaneously to
applaud a passage in which Pylades and Orestes contend each
for the privilege of dying for the other. The titles of one
pretexta and twelve tragedies are known.

The last of the five early tragic poets is Attius (or Accius),
who died in 94 B.c., and was celebrated for his learning as well
as for his plays. He was both the friend and rival of Pacu-
vius. Attius introduced long set debates into his dramas, and
carried on the habit of contamination (see definition, p. 65).
After Accius, Latin tragic drama almost ceased to be written,
although great actors like AXsopus kept the old plays alive to
a certain extent. Whatever life the art had, was due to the
patronage of the aristocracy. When wearied or disgusted with
the sensational and brutal spectacles of the circus or the Coli-
seum, the patricians of Rome retired to their homes to listen
to the reading of poems or plays from earlier times, or even to
indulge in the writing of plays themselves. The art declined,
however, growing more rhetorical and receding ever further
from the stage. By the time of Seneca, tragic drama was no
longer written to be played but to be read: the first of the
closet dramas had arrived.

Latin comedy. The comic muse in Rome was in somewhat
better state. The actor Roscius was almost as celebrated in
comedy as was AZsopus in tragedy; and farcical or comic en-
tertainments had more chance to live. Political conditions in
Rome did not permit, for long, the Aristophanic type of play
in which public men and national policies were held up to ridi-
cule. Better suited to the Roman stage was the play of man-
ners represented by Menander and the New Comedy, except
that it was too refined and quiet. The average Roman spec-
tator liked stronger and coarser stuff. The problem, therefore,
of the Latin producer was to use the Greek dish, fill it with
enough spice and ribaldry to make it acceptable to the Roman
palate and at the same time escape the censor.82 HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

Titus Maccius Plautus. 254-184 B.c. The poet who suc:
ceeded best in concocting such a dish as that described above
was Plautus, a free-born Italian of humble origin, who is said
to have begun his career by working in a corn mill. In some
fashion he gained an education and became associated in a
practical way with a theater, for which he began writing plays.
There are in existence at least twenty authentic dramas, all
complete or nearly so. They were built for acting, as plays
should be; and in many cases it is the acting copy of the manu-
script that has been preserved. In a large proportion of the
plays the author has used a Greek plot, kept the Greek names
of men and places, but portrayed the manners, weaknesses and
characteristics of the Romans of his own day. The work of
Plautus was a Greek crust with a Roman filling. This double
character gives rise to certain oddities in geography and set-
tings. The spectators, as a rule, were familiar with the Greek
tongue but not with Greece itself; so that a slip in geography,
such as the familiar ‘‘sea-coast of Bohemia” in Shakespeare,
would scarcely be noticed.

None of the original plays from which Plautus took his plots
is in existence; but there is good reason to believe that he bor-
rowed almost exclusively from the New Comedy, chiefly from
Menander. He did not translate, neither was he an imitator.
His method was that of a free-handed manipulator. In a pro-
logue he said:

“We lay the scene of all the play in Athens
To make the dream seem more Greek to you.”

Not only the scene, but costumes and many minor features were
Greek. Critics have remarked that in all the many references
to money in the Plautine plays, not a single Roman coin is
mentioned. At the same time, there is a tone of reality and
first-hand observation. Concerning one of his plays, he pro-
tests that he would never have dreamed of using a certain
situation, had he not seen just such a case for himself.
Subjects of the Plautine plays. Plautus did not touch the
private life of individuals, and makes comparatively few ref-
erences to politics. His favorite subjects were love intrigues,HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME 83

the ridiculous struggles of a character to carry out some ne-
farious plan, or the manner in which sly slaves and gay youths
outwit their masters and guardians. Frequently a play com-
bines all three themes. The original circumstances of his love-
intrigues are usually disgraceful; but when these are once ac-
cepted, the plays become quite moral in tone, enjoining all the
virtues of respectability. In the Amphitryo a risqué subject is
treated with far more delicacy than by either Moliére or Dry-
den. Sometimes Plautus attacked the weaknesses and vices of
his time with the zeal of a real reformer. He ridiculed the
aged sensualist who often stands as the prominent and model
citizen, scoffed at the amours of the wealthy merchant, exposed
the evils which follow in the wake of slavery, and showed the
wretched end to which the life of the courtesan leads.

With Plautus the Roman lady of high station was always
virtuous, though often disagreeable; but he never tried to make
the life of a frail sister attractive. In The Captives there is a
fine picture of the devotion of two friends, and of the fidelity
of a slave to his master. Like the Greek playwrights, Plautus
emphasized the importance of giving asylum to fugitives and
travelers. He used both elegant and colloquial Latin with
ease and boldness, and had considerable skill in the use of
verse forms. As a specialist in the making of boisterous and
actable farces, with occasional passages of pure comedy, he
was particularly successful. His inventiveness, his knowledge
of stage-craft, his gift for theatrical effect, and his under-
standing of character gave him the title of “the greatest genius
of Rome.”

Not a few of the themes of Plautus were used by later
poets. Moliére and Dryden took the Amphitryo as the basis
for plays. The Pot of Gold was used by Moliére in The
Miser; the Haunted House by Regnaud and Addison; the
Threepenny Bit by Lessing; and The Twins (Menachmi) by
any number of later playwrights, including Shakespeare. It
was the opinion of Lessing that The Captives was the best
play ever put upon the stage. Plautus himself regretted he
could not find more plots like it, because (he said) the moral
lesson was so good. We can agree with him at least so far as84 HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

to admit that the details of the plot, unlike those of many
early comedies, are mentionable in polite society. It is a mys-
tery play, has no women characters, and does not hinge upon
a love intrigue. It starts off with a punning joke about grace
before meat, and depends for its liveliness somewhat upon the
hungry parasite, who threatens every now and then to give up
his job of sponging upon the rich, since it is such hard work,
The style is racy, abounding in what must have been local al-
lusions and current gags, and revealing an uncanny knowledge
of those blasé, shrewd city-dwellers who made up the ordinary
Roman audience. There are also occasional passages of genu-
ine feeling.

Plautus said that in his prologues he always had three pur-
poses: to tell the audience to keep quiet so they could hear the
piece; to give very plainly the story of the play and an ex-
planation of the stage setting; and lastly to banter everybody
into a good humor. A list of the devices used in his plots
reads like a catalogue of the ten-twenty-thirty thrillers of the
last century: the abandonment of infants, kidnapping, piracy,
shipwreck, tokens of recognition, change of identity, keyhole
listenings, strange rescues. His world is peopled by scolding
matrons, lying and thievish servants, money lenders, procurers
and sycophants. In the end the knaves are generally pun-
ished, the stingy parent outwitted or won over, and the hero
satisfied. The titles indicate somewhat the nature of his
works: The Play of the Hidden Pot of Gold, The Haunted
House, How the Sham Steward Got Paid for His Asses, and
The Play of the Caskets.

Publius Terentius Afer. About 190-158 B.c. The second
important writer of Latin comedies presents a remarkable con-
trast to the first. Terence, probably a native of Carthage, was
a slave in the family of a Roman patrician, On account of his
witty conversation and graceful manners, he became a favorite
in the fashionable society of Rome and received his freedom.
His work, so far as we know it, consists of two sorts: fairly
close translations of Menander, and contaminations. There are
six extant plays, three of which, The Brothers, The Girl ofHOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME 85

Andros, and The Eunuch, are contaminations. Each is made
from two Greek plays. Of the remaining three, the Phormio is
based on a play by the Greek Apollodorus, and the others are
from Menander. The Brothers (Adelphi) was first performed
in 160 B.c., at the funeral games of A*milius Paulus.

The weakness of Terence lies in his lack of the bolder ele-
ments of action. His characters are somewhat deficient in va-
riety, and his situations are inferior to those of Plautus. He is
superior to Plautus in refinement and taste,, but never equal to
him in exuberance of spirits and in comic force. Compara-
tively speaking, Plautus was the untutored genius, Terence the
conscious artist; Plautus the practical playwright, Terence the
elegant literary craftsman. Plautus wrote for the crowd, Ter-
ence for the aristocracy. Even with the equivocal subjects of
the new comedy, Terence did not make vice attractive. As
with Plautus, when once the irregular situation is granted,
the plays are found to be full of moral sentiments and advice
of a prudent and wise nature.

Stock figures. From the time of Plautus and Terence it is
possible to trace in European drama the same characters, the
same plots, the same old themes of a stupid husband outwitted
by a young wife, the stingy father fleeced by his rascally sons,
or the aged sensualist defrauded of the pleasures he has hand-
somely paid for. In Terence, however, the young people are
somewhat superior to their prototypes in Plautus. The courte-
sans are more refined in speech and manner. The young men
are not wholly libertines, but approach more nearly to the type
of lover which the modern world enjoys in its fiction. The
slaves are of a higher quality, and their masters more decent,
often treating them as trusted domestics. The braggart sol-
diers are not quite such fools, but more like witty roysterers,
or half-philosophers.

Position of Terence in the Middle Ages. Terence supplied
the standard of classical Latin for many centuries. He was
studied and acted even during those dark periods when all sem-
blance of art seems to have died out in Europe. In the tenth
century the learned Roswitha, a nun of Gandersheim, Germany,

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wrote, in imitation of Terence, several plays which are still in
existence.1 The prologues of the Terentian plays contain valu-
able criticism and statements of dramatic principles. His sen-
tentious sayings have become the general property of mankind:
“Many men, many minds!” “I consider nothing human alien
to me,” and “While there’s life there’s hope.” It is through
Terence, more than any one else, that the traditions of comedy
can be traced back to the New Comedy of the Greeks.

Lucius Anneus Seneca. 3 8.C.-65 aD. The eight tragedies
and one pretexta attributed to Seneca are the only surviving
specimens of Latin tragic drama. They were probably written
by the philosopher of that name, who was born in Cordova,
Spain, in the third year of our era. He was a brilliant youth,
studying law and the Greek poets. Early in life he attached
himself to the Stoics, later to the Pythagoreans. His remark-
able oratory in the Roman courts of law awakened the jealousy
of the Emperor Caligula, who hinted that the philosopher-orator
would be in better health away from Rome. Consequently
Seneca went into exile from which he was recalled, after the
death of Caligula, by Agrippina, who placed him as tutor to
her son Nero, the heir apparent. In this post of advantage
Seneca gained fame and wealth. For five years or so during
the early days of Nero’s reign, the power of Seneca, and his
colleague Burrus, was second only to that of Nero himself.

Seneca was learned and able, and his writings have the ex-
cellent quality of being conversational in tone, even when
touching the most profound topics. His tragedies were written
while he was in exile, and we do not know that they were ever
enacted on any stage. He chose the dialogue form, but was
more interested in his theories than in drama, and he knew
more about the lawyer’s platform than the stage. Moreover
the ordinary popular play of his day, indescribably indecent
and coarse, was highly distasteful to him. There was no pub-
lic stage open to a writer of tragedy. Such works as Seneca’s
probably had little chance of performance, still less of popu-
larity. They are more like dialogue-poems meant to be re-

1 Three or four of the plays of Roswitha have been presented in the
experimental theaters of New York in recent seasons.HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME 87

cited at banquets or read in the library. They follow the
classic form, and are based on classic themes; but the flair for
the theater is lacking. The tone is too rhetorical, too artificial,
and often insincere. The antithesis, the epigram, and the quot-
able saying were more important to their author than the sin-
cere unfolding of the human situation.

Among Greek writers, Euripides attracted Seneca most. His
Agamemnon is in imitation of AXschylus, his Cedipus after
Sophocles; all his other plays are after Euripides. In most
cases he retained the Greek names and plot, making slight
changes in the arrangement of scenes, or shifting the action in
order to bring a different character into prominence. Here
and there a new personage is introduced; yet the Latin plays
are generally shorter than the Greek originals. The chorus
was retained, though there was no dancing place in a Roman
theater. The lyrics given to the chorus by Seneca do not ad-
vance the plot or intensify the action; they merely serve for
rhetorical display and seem therefore doubly redundant and
artificial.

The Medea, the Mad Hercules, and The Trojan Women are
among the best of his plays. In the first two, the action is
practically identical with the Greek prototypes. The Trojan
Women is a contamination of the Hecuba and The Trojan
Women of Euripides. There are many differences in detail,
and changes of scene not customary in a Greek play. Only
three speaking actors are required to be on the stage at one
time, but the taboo is lifted from portraying scenes of vio-
lence. The plays are far inferior to the corresponding Greek
dramas. Seneca’s artificiality and lack of sincerity proved
fatal when it came to the delineation of passion. The Phedra
of Euripides struggles against her unlawful love, but is over-
come by Aphrodite; while the Phedra of Seneca is sensual
and shameless, deceiving her nurse in order to gain her as an
accomplice. Similar parallels can be found in other plays,
proving Seneca the weaker and smaller genius, if genius at all.

Seneca’s importance in dramatic history. It is obvious that
Seneca’s importance in drama does not lie primarily in the in-
trinsic value of his plays. Like Plautus and Terence, he wasFO nat oo TANSEY

ne ee Tere ety erty

88 HOW GREEK DRAMA INVADED ROME

a link between the ancient and the modern stage. Through
him the European world first became acquainted with classic
tragedy. A translation of his plays, made by different writers,
was published in London in 1581, just at the time when the
Elizabethan poets were most strongly attracted to the theater.
They were looking for a form more concise than the sprawling
chronicles and miracles; and in comparison with medieval com-
positions the Senecan model was indeed neat, tight-bound, and
effective.

In France the influence of Seneca was even greater than in
England. There sprang up a neo-classic school which domi-
nated the stage for many decades. To the modern student, it
seems as if all that was least admirable and least characteristic
of the classic writers at their best had somehow been salvaged
by Seneca and handed down to the European stage. We miss
the wisdom and the sincerity, the tender beauty and nobility of
the Greeks; while we find ever with us the long, undramatic
speeches, the soliloquies, the off-stage action reported by the
messenger, as well as cumbersome rhetoric and artificial man-
nerisms. Nevertheless for better or worse, it was the fertili-
zation of the Renaissance mind by the classic spirit, through
Seneca in tragedy and through Plautus and Terence in comedy,
which produced the remarkable European drama of the fif-
teenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries.CHAPTER XI

HORAGE, ROMAN SPECTACLES, AND THE DECAY
OF THE CLASSIC DRAMA

After the great period of tragedy, those men whose names make
up the role of Alexandrian literature had personalities too petty
for broad feeling, though some of them could express personal pas-
sion. The dominance of the intellect is no longer impressive, as
with A=schylus and Sophocles, yet no dominance of great emotion
succeeds it—Hernry Ossporn Taytor, The Classical Inheritance of
the Middle Ages.

A troupe of players immediately came in, clattering their shields
and spears. Trimalchio sat up on his couch, and while the
Homeric actors in a pompous fashion began a dialogue in Greek
verse, he read a book aloud in Latin with a singsong tone of voice.

. The Homeric actors set up a shout, and while the slaves bus-
tled about, a boiled calf was brought in on an enormous dish with
a helmet placed upon it. The actor who took the part of Ajax
followed with a drawn sword, fell upon it as though he were mad,
and hacking this way and that he cut up the calf and offered the
bits to us on the point of his sword, to our great surprise... .
—Pertronius, Trimalchio’s Dinner.

The names of Plautus, Terence and Seneca, with Ennius and
Nevius glimmering in the background, are all that redeem
Latin dramatic literature during the course of nearly eight cen-
turies. Rome did, however, make a contribution to dramatic
criticism in the work of Horace, who lived from 65 to 8 B.c.
In the famous Letters to Piso, later known as the Ars Poetica,
he set forth in an interesting but disconnected manner canons
of criticism and composition which were handed down from
one group of scholars to another throughout the Middle Ages.
Many of his principles apply to literary matters in general; but
he devotes a portion of his work to the drama, and in a meas-
ure reaffirms the judgments of Aristotle. Horace, however, is
far more superficial than the Greek; though in justice it should

F
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Jgo HORACE, ROMAN SPECTACLES

be said that his observations were not intended as a formal
treatise, being rather the somewhat casual comment which one
man of letters might naturally have written to another.

Maxims of Horace. Certain verse forms and meters, said
Horace, have been established as appropriate to comedy, others
to tragedy, and these recognized styles should be followed. A
tragic hero should not speak in the same rhythm as a comic
one. Characters should be consistent with themselves, and
should conform to the general expectation: boys should be
childish, youth fond of sport, reckless and fickle, mature men
should be businesslike and prudent, while old men should re-
main praisers of the past, sluggish and grudging. The poet
should not try to change the character of well-known figures
of the stage, such as Agamemnon, Medea, Hercules; at the
same time, he should not stick too closely to the stock subjects.
When beginning a play, avoid pomposity and grandiloquence ;
but when once the play is launched, rush the spectator on
through the action, leaving out the ungrateful parts of the
story. Do not present ugly things on the stage. The tradi-
tional structure of plots should be used, but such contrivances
as the god-from-the-machine should not be worked to death.
Keep to the three-actor play, and remember to use the chorus
for the expression of moral sentiments and religious tone.
Above all things, stick to the Greek models. Some people may
have been fools enough to admire Plautus, but that is no rea-
son why every one should do so. Plautus is rude and bar-
barous, not worthy of study beside the Greeks. Every play
should either instruct or delight,—better if it does both. “Mix
pleasure and profit, and you are safe.”

Such were the rather humdrum instructions of Horace, who
indeed followed Aristotle, but a long way behind. It was the
influence of Horace, however, which was largely responsible
for the perpetuation of the so-called “rules of Aristotle”
through the Renaissance to modern times. Some of the medi-
eval and Renaissance writers, however, had a positive genius
for misinterpreting and misreading both Aristotle and Horace;
so neither one should be held to blame for all the crimes com-
mitted in the name of classicism.DECAY OF THE CLASSIC DRAMA QI

Latin writers after Seneca. The names of thirty-six tragic
poets appear after Seneca, with about one hundred and fifty
plays. Among those who dabbled in tragedy were Quintus
Cicero, brother of the orator, Varro, Varius, Pollio, and Ovid.
Lucian, who died in 200 a.D., asserts that in his time original
dramas were no longer written. The old Greek plays were oc-
casionally given, however, for a chronicler belonging to the
third century of our era reported that a play of Euripides was
sometimes to be seen on the Roman stage. This would of
course mean that there were capable professional actors.

Ignoble position of actors. In Greece actors had enjoyed a
position of eminence and respect; but in Rome their condition
was mean and contemptible. Like many other professions in
the empire, that of play-acting was hereditary. Actors were
foreigners, captives, or more frequently slaves who through
skill had been able to purchase their freedom. During the re-
public and the early days of the empire, women actors never
appeared; but in later years women acted both in the mimes
and pantomimes. In either case the position was an infamous
one. Julian, called the Apostate, made it a rule that the priests
of his pagan religion should never be seen within the walls of
a theater. Even the far-from-Puritanical Tiberius forbade
people of the stage to hold any intercourse with the Roman
knights and senators. The famous Acte, at one time a favor-
ite concubine of the Emperor Nero, was an actress in the
mimes. Tradition has it that she was converted through the
teachings of Saint Paul; that she was banished by the Em-
peror; and that, after his death, she was the only person found
willing to prepare him for decent burial. The Church, while
condemning the obscenities perpetrated in the name of art,
often fought for the enactment of laws which should release
“these unhappy slaves of a cruel voluptuousness.”’ + There were
rules designed to regulate the movements of supposedly con-
verted actresses; and these were characterized, even by indif-
ferent writers of the time, as cold, cruel, and unjust. Dill de-
scribes them as showing “an inhuman contempt for a class
whom humanity doomed to vice, and then punished for being

1 Dill, Roman Society.Q2 HORACE, ROMAN SPECTACLES

vicious.” Legally the position of the acting class was never
essentially changed; but in time the social standing was some-
what improved, and gifted artists, such as Roscius in comedy
and Asopus in tragedy, occasionally rose above their station
and enjoyed the friendship of men of high standing.

What the Roman play was like. Latin plays were presented
in the daytime, sometimes before, sometimes after, the noon
meal. The average comedy was about two hours long. The
characters wore the Greek dress, with or without masks. Paint
and wigs were employed, a gray wig for an old man, black for
a young man, and red for a slave. For the greater part of
Roman history the profession of acting was confined to men,
the women’s parts being taken by youths. The ordinary set-
ting was a stage with a street and three or four houses in the
background. Two doors led from the wings on to the stage,
the one at the left of the spectators for the entrance of per-
sons from foreign parts, that to the right for ordinary citizens.
The doors between led into the various residences of the char-
acters in the play. There was no limit to the number of actors.
The chorus was never as important as in Greek drama, and in
time it was abandoned altogether. Division into acts or scenes
was made only when the actor left the stage to prepare for the
next appearance. During such intermission a flute player en-
tertained the audience. In both comedies and tragedies prob-
ably some of the dialogue was sung, as in modern opera. Thus
there rose curious artificialities. Livy relates that Livius An-
dronicus (who first replaced the Fescennine songs with a regu-
lar plot) was so frequently encored as actor and singer that
he lost his voice; in consequence he obtained permission from
the city officials to introduce a boy to sing by his side, while
he himself interpreted the action by appropriate gestures.

Theaters and spectacles. Although the best Latin plays be-
long to the second century before our era, yet at that time
Roman theaters were of the crudest description. They were
built of wood at the foot of a grass-covered slope, with almost
nothing in the way of accommodation for either actors or audi-
ence. The stage was a narrow platform, elevated, and backed
by a simple architectural design. There was no curtain, noDECAY OF THE CLASSIC DRAMA 93

scenery that could be changed, no sounding board to carry the
voice. An altar was placed on the stage, in front of the “‘set”
described above. The audience, out on the sloping amphi-
theater, either reclined, stood, or sat on stools brought from
home. In Rome the theater was never a place for worship, as
in Greece; it was always a scene of noisy confusion, pushing,
and crowding. The aristocracy would not mingle with the
more or less disgusting crowd, which was, for the most part,
deaf to the elegances of such a writer as Terence. Even
Plautus, with his boisterous humor, his bustle and high spirits,
was obliged to explain the subject and story of a play in a
manner that almost seems suited to an audience of half-wits.
In his prologue he tells the whole plot, then he points and re-
points the facts during the performance. ‘Terence, in one of
his prologues, asked the spectators not to hiss his play off the
stage until they had heard it out.

During the republic various attempts were made to improve
the theater structures, and at least one temporary wooden audi-
torium was built after the Greek model. In the year 55 B.c.,
Pompey the Great erected the first permanent theater in Rome.
It was of stone, seated perhaps seventeen thousand people—
Pliny said forty thousand—was situated on the Campus Mar-
tius on level ground, and had separate sections for knights
and senators. About the time of Horace roofed-in play-houses
also began to be built, though even then the greater number
of such structures were after the Greek style. Thirteen years
before the beginning of the Christian era two new, roofed-in
auditoriums were constructed for the purpose of staging huge
and costly spectacles consisting of games, military exercises,
combats between slaves, captives, condemned criminals, and not
infrequently contests between beasts and men. Sometimes pan-
thers or foxes, infuriated by burning firebrands tied to their
tails, fought among themselves. Pompey is said to have fur-
nished troops of cavalry and bodies of infantry for some of
these performances, with real booty for the successful com-
batants. These spectacles naturally had little or nothing to do
with drama, but their significance should be understood, for
they explain its lethargy and final death. The money and en-04 HORACE, ROMAN SPECTACLES

thusiasm which might have promoted the art of the stage was
diverted to these noisy and brutalizing shows. Slaves who
drove the chariots in the races won fabulous sums, and often
became the petted favorites of nobles. Huge structures were
required, and builders contrived curious plans to meet the need.
In one case, two whole theaters constructed of wood, each in
the form of a half-circle, were so placed that they could be
united to form one immense amphitheater.

How Roman plays were financed. All games, sports, plays
and spectacles were under the general supervision of an off-
cial called @dile, but the production itself was a private af-
fair. In some cases it was purely a business enterprise; at
other times it was of the nature of a festival given by a promi-
nent person in order to gain favor with the popular political
party. In the latter case, the giver, after gaining permission
from the edile, placed the management of his entertainment
in the hands of an agent who got as much money as he was
able, both from his client and the public. The permission from
the city did not mean either official or monetary support from
the state.

Roman mimes. The most popular of the stage entertain-
ments which survived were the mimes,—short scenes given by
two or three actors, with spoken dialogue. In these skits the
actor took off rustics, sight-seeing provincials, pompous ofh-
cials, and other decent but dull types, often with obscene and
indecorous accompaniments. A contemporary writer has re-
corded how Horace and his friends laughed over the repre-
sentation of a bombastic rural priest who wore a loud purple
robe with broad stripes and carried a pan of coals, according
to the requirements of his office. Of course such a figure, once
connected with the ancient dignity of the patricians, could
easily be converted into burlesque. The dialogue of the mimes
was in verse, and Roman knights sometimes employed them-
selves in their composition. The prosperous, as well as the
lower classes delighted in them.

Pantomimes. Pantomimic shows, usually given by a single
dancer, were of three kinds: simple mimicry without music or
words, but with dancing; secondly, mimicry with instrumentalDECAY OF THE CLASSIC DRAMA 95

music; and thirdly, mimicry with music and words,—the latter
frequently given to a chorus. Some of the pantomimes were
modifications of the Atellan fables and sature. Often they
reproduced to the life tales of abnormal depravity, and always
they were salted with coarse buffoonery and indecent humor,
exhibiting, fully and unmistakably, by exaggerated gestures,
the various passions and emotions of mankind. Cymbals,
gongs, castanets, rattles and drums were used. In time these
entertainments became so gross that even easy-going citizens
were forced to discountenance them. Dill, the historian of
Roman society, writes: ‘““The theater and the circus were for
five centuries the great corrupters of the Roman world.”
Reasons for the decline of the classic drama. It goes with-
out saying that such associations did not improve the drama.
The Roman world, or such part of it as frequented the spec-
tacles, was not of the sort to find delight in the more subtle
revelations of character. Thrilling scenes were for them al-
most daily enacted in real life: their malefactors were stretched
on the cross, or tossed to the beasts of the arena; their gen-
erals, returning from war, led their captives in chains through
the streets. Such plays as were given had to compete, very
unequally, with the spectacles and circuses, as well as with the
turbulent and sensational life of the city; and they were fur-
ther degraded by being placed, on occasion, on the circus pro-
grams between the gladiatorial shows and the wild beast com-
bats. Moreover, the political and social condition of the city
was averse to the cultivation of the arts. As the empire ex-
panded it was the custom for sons of patricians to serve in the
wars and to administer the government in distant provinces.
In consequence whole families became extinct and the aristoc-
racy dwindled, while the prestige of the city drew into its con-
fines a strange crowd of outlanders, barbarians, prisoners of
war, tradesmen from foreign countries, hangers-on and scamps
of all sorts. The result was that many of the people in a
theater audience knew but little Latin—only sufficient to enable
them to trade—and their taste was inevitably low. They hon-
estly preferred rope dancing and the bloody sights of the arena.
It followed naturally that playwrights found scant market for

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their wares; and even the lowest actors despised the verdict of
the masses.

It is not wholly fair to say that Roman drama was smoth-
ered by the Greek; it is quite as true to say that it was starved
out by the Romans themselves. Oratory and law interested
them more than poetry. They were perhaps too impatient to
sit quietly through a representation of an experience of the
heart, to reflect on its meaning, and to appreciate its wisdom
and beauty. It had been the aim of Ennius and other early
teachers not only to familiarize the Romans with Greek litera-
ture, but also “to enlighten their minds and banish error.”
Gradually this purpose was forgotten. Seneca and such writers
as he only arrested for a moment the national decay; they
could not stop it. Although the mimes were popular, yet they
reflected the worst traits of a debauched and crumbling civili-
zation, and in time they were condemned by all decent Romans.
It was not Christian bigotry but its own depravity which de-
stroyed the Roman theater. As it then existed, Christian and
pagan alike knew it to be simply a school of vice.

Moreover, the classic cycle had run its course, and had more
than outlived the civilization which gave it birth. A new reli-
gion and a new view of life were painfully seeking to express
themselves. The ideals portrayed in the most notable exam-
ples of classic drama were self-control, moderation, a manly
submission to the blows of fate, and an ever increasing sense
of the dark enigma of life. The Greek theater was mature,
thoughtful, rational. When, however, an original drama next
appeared in Europe—the biblical drama of the Middle Ages—
it was childish, full of superstitions, extravagant; and it hegan
with a new set of fables and legends. The very meaning of
the words comedy and tragedy was lost. The playwrights of
the new day were to work their way along, learning nearly
everything anew for themselves.SECTION THREE
DRAMA OF THE ORIENTCHAPTER XII
INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

What qualities are required in a drama? The qualities required
in a drama are a profound exposition of the human passions; a
pleasing interchange of mutual affection; loftiness of character;
delicate expression of desire; a surprising story; and elegant
language.—Opening passage of a Hindu play.

Pleasures of peace and prosperity.
Chinese phrase for dramatic entertainment.

. and when I am no more,
I pray thee deign to offer prayers for me,
That in the dark place there shall be a light
For this blind man, and over evil roads
A bridge...
Closing lines of a fourteenth century
No play, translated by M. C. Stopes.

I. INDIA

India is one of the few countries which can boast of an
indigenous drama, unaffected by any foreign influence. When
Hindu plays first became known to the European world
through Sir William Jones’s translation of Sakuntala in 1789,
it was then generally thought that Greek literature had pene-
trated into India, influencing their playwrights; but that opin-
ion does not prevail today. Most critics agree that Hindu
drama was neither a borrowing nor an imitation, but the prod-
uct of native genius.

The dramatist Bhasa, or Bhrata, thirteen of whose works
have recently been recovered and published, is traditionally
considered to have been the founder and “Father” of Indian
drama. There is considerable confusion concerning the author-
ship of many plays, owing to the fact that it was the custom
to attribute a literary work to the ruler at whose court, or

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100 INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

under whose favor, the real author chanced to live. Thus the
earliest extant stage piece, The Little Clay Cart,’ is ascribed
to a sovereign named Sudraka. It should probably be dated
sometime before 400 A.D. ‘This is one of the few oriental
dramas treating, in part at least, of middle-class life.

Language and conventions. ‘The long play opens with a
prayer, followed by a dialogue between the manager and one
of the actors, in which the audience is complimented and the
chief circumstances of the coming presentation described; then
by skilful management the dialogue merges into the play.
There is division into acts and scenes, the intermissions being
filled by musicians. The greater part of the piece is in prose,
while the more impassioned passages are in verse, the four-
line stanza being much in use. (Nearly half of Sakuntala is
in this form.) There are many lyrical scenes in which lovely
things in nature are described, also many moral reflections and
precepts of wisdom. Such lines are always put into the mouth
of an important character and are given in Sanskrit, which has
not been the common language of India since about 300 B.c.,
though it is still spoken in the courts of rulers and by the
3rahmin priests. While the gods, heroes and the few impor-
tant personages speak in this aristocratic tongue, the women,
slaves, and all minor characters use the dialect of the lower
class. The play closes, as it opens, with a prayer.

The exhibition of undue ardor of love is not regarded as
decorous or esthetically permissible; nor extravagant expres-
sions of jealousy, hate, or anger—in fact, nothing sensational
or violent. Sorrow is toned down to a gentle melancholy.
Kissing, sleeping, eating, scratching, or yawning are considered
indelicate; and there is never any reference to such topics as
banishment, plague, or national calamity of any sort. There
are stock figures, such as the accomplished courtesan, the jester,
the humble confidant and friend of the hero. There are also
stock comic situations, like the complaining of the stubborn
servant, and mock grief over the death of a wealthy relative.
Other devices of the stage, such as the play within the play,

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ALYINDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN 101

the finding of hidden letters, and the antics of drunken men,
are as well known and as popular in India as elsewhere. Magic
and supernatural events have a large part in the action of many
pieces: characters are put under a curse, bewitched, or caused
to assume the form of an animal or a tree. In many of these
cases, as in Greek tragedy, the intervention of a god is re-
quired to release the victim from his difficulties.

Unity of action in the Hindu play was rigidly insisted upon.
Unity of time was interpreted as allowing, roughly, one act to
represent the passage of one day, though this general rule was
often disregarded. There was no attempt at observing unity
of place; whenever it was necessary, the actor announced his
whereabouts. The theater was usually a concert hall or the
outer court of a palace. Scenery did not exist; and the curtain,
instead of falling before the actor, formed the background and
concealed the dressing room behind the stage. The stage prop-
erties were extremely simple, with perhaps seats, thrones, and
occasionally chariots drawn by actors disguised as animals.
Masks were not commonly used, and the costumes were usu-
ally those worn in everyday life. There was no chorus, and
no official distinction between comedy and tragedy. In fact,
pure tragedy was unknown, since every play was required to
end happily. As in the Greek plays, there was frequent inter-
course between earth and heaven.

The production of plays was almost exclusively an affair of
the aristocracy, who gave them in honor of a coronation, a
lunar holiday, a royal marriage, or the birth of a royal heir.
The actor’s profession was regarded with respect, and there
was no objection to women being employed on the stage. In
many ways, however, the drama reveals the social philosophy
upon which the caste system is based, as well as a profound
religious feeling. Great importance is attached to the idea of
self-sacrifice as the highest form of self-realization.

The brilliant period. We know of about a dozen plays, writ-
ten in India probably between 400 and goo, which have ex-
cited the interest and admiration of modern students. Some-
time during those five hundred years lived the two greatest
playwrights, Kalidasa and Bhavabuti, whose works were at-

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/102 INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

tributed to the emperors Sudraka and Criharsha respectively.
Wide differences of opinion exist concerning the dates of these
two authors, especially of Kalidasa, the difference ranging from
half a century before the birth of Christ to the sixth century
after. Professor Kunow, in Das Indische Drama (1920),
places him at about 400; and with this opinion Professor Jack-
son (Columbia University) agrees. Bhavabuti was a Brahmin
of southern India and probably belonged to the early eighth
century. He must have been much admired, for the people
called him Crikantha, ‘‘he in whose throat is fortune.” Three
dramas survive from each of these authors.

Famous plays. The drama best known to Europeans is the
Sakuntala of Kalidasa, which was translated into English by
Sir William Jones in 1789. It made a profound impression
upon such scholars as Goethe, and created something like a
literary sensation. It is in seven acts, and the story is taken
from the first book of the Mahabharata. Its hero, Dushyanta,
was a celebrated king of ancient times. The action moves in
part within the realm of fancy and the supernatural; and the
dialogue is always poetic and elevated. On account of its
imaginative insight, lofty poetry, and emotional appeal, it has
been regarded by people of every nation as one of the master-
pieces of dramatic literature. Mr. Arthur Symons has called
it the most beautiful play in the world.

The Rise of the Moon of Knowledge is an allegorical and
theological piece in six acts, in which abstract qualities such as
Will, Reason, and the follies and vices of man are personified
and made to struggle with one another. The obvious parallel-
ism between this play and the European moralities of the late
Middle Ages is of considerable interest. A political work
called The Signet of the Minister, written about 800, and an-
other named The Binding of a Braid of Hair, are among the
well known productions. Besides these, the titles of more than
five hundred Sanskrit dramas are known; and more than a
dozen have already been translated into various modern Euro-
pean languages. From them and from other sources, much has
been learned concerning the technique and ideals of the ancient
Indian stage.INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN 103

i Grin

It is the opinion of modern scholars that drama was not
native to China, but was introduced, probably in rather an ad-
vanced state, by the Mongols in the thirteenth century. Dur-
ing the one hundred and sixty-eight years of the Kin and
Yuen dynasties the most celebrated plays were written. A fa-
mous collection known as the Hundred Plays of the Yuen
Dynasty is preserved, and the titles of about six hundred others
are known, as well as the names of eighty-five playwrights.
Three of these authors were women belonging to a class simi-
lar to the Greek hetere. During this period (1200-1368) the
style of acting, the subjects to be treated, and the general con-
duct of the theater were determined. The Chinese stage at the
beginning of the twentieth century was practically the same as
that of seven hundred years ago.

Theory of Chinese drama. The ideal of the Chinese stage
was that every play should have a moral. An article in the
penal code of the Empire requires every dramatist to have “a
virtuous aim.” Both prose and verse are often used in the
same play. The best plots satisfy the rule regarding unity of
action, and many of them also observe the unities of time and
place? Many of the plays are short, a half-hour or so in
length; and the longer ones are divided into acts and scenes.
It is the custom in many places to give a series of short plays
without any intermission, so that a performance sometimes lasts
for several hours, In such a case of course there is no attempt
at maintaining a single unified action. The second play may
take up the career of a new hero after the first one has been
killed or defeated, thus carrying the spectator over long dis-
tances and through many years. In order to keep the thread
of the action clear, each important character pauses occasionally
to announce his name and lineage, and perhaps to rehearse the
course of the plot. A singular feature of the Chinese play is
the singing actor, to whom are given the most poetic and beau-
tiful passages. Like the Greek chorus, he sometimes repeats

* Neither the Chinese nor the Hindus knew anything of Aristotle’s
theories concerning the elements of structure.

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‘104 INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

the chief events of the play, and moralizes upon the conduct of
the characters.

Subjects of Chinese drama. The field of the Chinese play-
wright is broad, as he has a choice of historical or contempo-
rary affairs from which to draw his plots. He may portray
parental or filial goodness, national vices and weaknesses, offi-
cial corruption, difficulties and delays connected with the law
courts, and the absurdities into which religious fanatics are
drawn. Love stories are comparatively rare. National cus-
toms, such as arranging marriage through an agent and deter-
mining official rank by means of examination, are inexhaustible
sources of comic action. Avarice is often ridiculed. There are
burlesques on Buddhism, a religion to which nearly four-fifths
of the nation subscribe. No class or section is exempt from
the laughter of the stage. As the gods often intervene in Greek
plays, so in a Chinese play the Emperor often saves the hero-
ine from an unfortunate marriage, or an innocent victim from
death. It is technically illegal, however, to represent the per-
son of the Emperor on the stage.

One of the most revolting features of Chinese drama is the
frequent representation of scenes of violence. Suffering and
death by starvation, drowning, poison, flogging, hanging, and
torture have been exhibited for centuries, and it is the distinc-
tion of many a famous actor that he can most vividly depict
the intense sufferings incident to these punishments. Suicide
is a custom honored in China, and therefore often seen on the
stage. When an actor is about to kill himself, he sings a long
chant before committing the deed; but whatever disasters
occur, the end must be happy.

In general, Chinese drama is comparatively weak in the log-
ical development of plot and in the delineation of character.
Great stress, however, is laid upon verbal decoration and poet-
ical ornament. There are pleasing contrasts between parallel
scenes, and parallelism of language, as in the Psalms. In
many passages a single word is played with, compounds being
made upon the root, so that a speech in praise of a flower or
of a royal person becomes an intricate linguistic labyrinth, like
an English acrostic or anagram.INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN 105

The Chinese stage usually has little scenery, no curtain, flies,
or wings. The costumes of the actors are gorgeous and costly,
of brocade or heavy silk, often embroidered and set with semi-
precious stones. If, in the course of a performance, an actor
has to travel to another country, he goes through the motions
of cantering for a few paces, cracks his whip, dismounts, and
announces: “I have now reached the country of So-and-So.”
A property man in ordinary dress, regarded as “honorably in-
visible” by everybody, remains on the stage all the time, pro-
viding articles needed by the actors. The latter have their tea
on the stage; and dead men rise and walk away when their
scene is ended.

The player does not stand high in the social scale in China.
Neither he nor his descendants for three generations may com-
pete in the public examinations for civil office. Since the eight-
eenth century women have been forbidden to appear on the
stage, and women’s parts are taken by young men. Those who
would enter the profession of acting must undergo severe dis-
cipline from an early age, and must submit to the strictest
physical training in respect to diet, acrobatic feats, contortions,
and walking with bound feet in imitation of high-born women.
There are five classes of actors, each being trained for certain
stage types; and each actor is assigned to his own type. The
regular companies consist of fifty-six actors, and every mem-
ber must know from one hundred to two hundred plays. There
is no prompter at the performance.

Famous Chinese plays. Not until the eighteenth century did
any knowledge of Chinese drama come to Europe; and even
now the greater part of the vast storehouse of oriental plays
remains closed to the occidental world. In 1735 a Jesuit priest
named Joseph Prémaire brought to France the translation of an
old work called The Little Orphan of the House of Tchao.
The play from which he had made his translation was of the
fourteenth century ; and it had been taken, he said, from a still
earlier piece. Voltaire, who was writing plays about the time
Prémaire brought his translation to Paris, declared The Little
Orphan to be a masterpiece, far superior to anything that had
been produced in Europe as early as the fourteenth century.

¥ ee at my106 INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

Voltaire appropriated the plot for himself, calling his play
L’Orphelin de Chine. The action of the piece hinges upon the
sacrifice of a mandarin and his wife, who yield their own son
to the enemy in order to save the heir to the throne. At the
final moment, when the child is about to be beheaded, the
mother in her agony of grief rushes upon the scene and tells
the conquering invader the truth. He is impressed by her
beauty and spirit; tries by immoral means to cajole her; but
at last is conquered by her youth and virtue.®

A celebrated play, reprinted in countless versions, called
The Story of the Magic Lute, is also from the fourteenth cen-
tury. The Sorrows of Han, whose plot resembles the story of
Esther of biblical fame, is said to date from before the Chris-
tian era. The Emperor in this play was a historical character,
living about 42 B.c. The story is plainly designed to expose the
evil consequences of luxury and self-indulgence, and the worth-
lessness of monarchs who neglect the welfare of their people.
It is in five acts, contains many beautiful songs, and is a great
national favorite.

III. JAPAN

Many important elements of the dramatic art in Japan are
similar to those developed by the Chinese. In many cases the
story material is obviously the same, and there is great simi-
larity in the methods of producing and acting. There were
two periods of brilliance in Japan (the fourteenth and eight-
eenth centuries), and two distinct types of theater: the aristo-
cratic and the popular. The former is associated with the
famous No plays, which reached their period of perfection
during the fourteenth century.

The staging of a No play. A square platform supported on

8 This situation was taken over into Japanese literature, but the out-
come was changed. With some modifications it was produced in New

York by the Washington Square Players about 1912 under the title
Bushido.
4 This play is more or less familiar to Europeans and Americans. It

was given in New York about 1910, the chief part being taken by Miss
Edith Wynne Matthison.INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN 107

pillars, open to the audience on three sides, and covered with
a temple-like roof, forms the stage for a No play. It is con-
nected with a green room by a corridor, or gallery, which
leads back from the stage at the left, as the audience sees it.
Here part of the action takes place. Upon the back scene is
painted a pine tree, and three small pines are placed along the
corridor. The orchestra, consisting of a flute, drum, and two
instruments resembling the tambourine, is seated in a narrow
space back of the stage; while the chorus, whose number is not
fixed, is seated on the floor at the right. The actors are highly
trained, and their speech is accompanied by soft music. There
are rigid rules for acting, each accent and gesture being gov-
erned by an unchanging tradition. The actors are always men,
wearing masks when impersonating females or supernatural
beings. The costumes are exquisite and of medieval fashion.
The performance is day-long; but as the No play is always
short, occupying about an hour, several pieces are rendered
during the day. Alternating with them are farces called
kiogen, which are short, full of delicate humor, and given in
the language of the time without the chorus.

The No play. The construction of the No play is always
the same. It begins with the appearance of a traveler, per-
haps a priest, who announces his name and purpose of journey-
ing to such-and-such a battle-ground, temple, or other time-
honored place. While he is crossing the stage, the chorus re-
cites the beauties of the scenery or describes the emotions of
the traveler. At the appointed spot a ghost appears, eagerly
seeking an opportunity to tell of the sufferings to which it is
condemned. This ghost is the Spirit of the Place. The sec-
ond part consists of the unfolding of the ancient legend which
has sanctified the ground. The story is revealed partly by dia-
logue, partly by the chorus. At its close the priest prays for
the repose of the Spirit whose mysterious history has just been
disclosed, and the play ends with a song in praise of the ruling
sovereign.

The content of the No play, which is nearly always tragic,
is treated with simple dignity. There is frequent reference to
learned matters, and to the teachings of Buddha. The text is

¥
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partly archaic prose and partly verse. Within this slight con-
ventional form are themes relating to filial duty, endurance
under trial, uncomplaining loyalty in the face of hardship and
neglect, and tender sacrifice. The plays are uniformly austere
and poetic, remote from the everyday scene, and full of imag-
ination and beauty. Kwanami Kiotsugu, who belongs to the
second half of the fourteenth century, was called the greatest
poet of his time, and the founder of the No play. His son,
Seami Motokiyo, was almost equally distinguished. He left
instructions as to production and acting, stressing the necessity
of avoiding realism on the stage. Other relatives and suc-
cessors of Kiotsugu improved the music, and the Shoguns hon-
ored the authors. This type of play may well be considered
unique in the history of the stage, and an important link be-
tween the classic plays of Greece and the poetic drama of mod-
ern Europe.

The popular theater. Tradition assigns the beginning of the
popular theater in Japan to the early part of the seventeenth
century, when the priestess Okuni ran away from her Shinto
temple and built a theater in Kioto. This theater developed
in two ways: a “legitimate” playhouse with living actors, and
a marionette or puppet show. Both these forms of entertain-
ment became popular in the seventeenth century, when the art
of the actor and the dramatist improved. We may infer that it
was then fashionable for members of the aristocracy to attend
these plays, also that quarrels in the playhouse were not un-
known; for about 1683 an ordinance was passed prohibiting
the wearing of swords in the theater.5 The Samurai (knights),
being unwilling to lay aside their swords even for a short time,
stayed away from the performances; and in consequence the
shows promptly deteriorated.

As among the Chinese, the governing group in Japan looked
upon the drama as a means of instructing the lower classes in
loyalty and self-sacrifice. A very strict set of regulations crys-
tallized about the stage. Every play was produced with elab-
orate exactness and precision. Much of the beauty of the
pieces depended upon the skilful use of parallelism in language,

6 A similar ordinance was passed in France in the days of Molieére.INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN 109

and in the employment of pivot or root words around which
the author could display his verbal dexterity. The ‘‘invisible’
property man was always on the stage, and realistic details
abounded. Grief and passion were expressed by violent con-
tortions. The hero would grimace, roll his eyeballs, bare his
teeth, and go through every possible variation of distress, while
the property man held a lighted candle near his face in order
that nothing should be lost to the audience. When a man was
killed, he turned a somersault before depicting the final agony.
For many decades the most brutal crimes were performed be-
fore the eyes of the spectators,—scenes of torture and cruci-
fixion, hara-kiri, and bloody scenes of every description.

After its period of brilliance in the seventeenth century, the
popular stage became overloaded with conventions and began to
decline. Doubtless the absence of the nobility from the thea-
ters contributed greatly to this result. Genshiro, a native
dramatist and critic of the nineteenth century, wrote that “the
theater in Japan had reached the lowest depth of vulgarity, and
so continued until the last year of the Tokugawa Shogunate in
1867.”

The Marionette Theater. In the meantime another special-
ization of the art appeared in the development of the mario-
nette stage.° The original basis of the marionette or puppet
show was the history of the heroine Joruri, whose love stories
were related by a chorus while the puppets walked the stage.
Gradually dialogue was added; and soon the puy ppets became
so popular that managers brought into their service extraor-
dinary mechanical Hesices by which eyeballs and eyebrows
could be moved, lips would seem to whisper or talk, fingers
would grasp a fan, and tiny figures kneel, dance, or swoon with
emotion. The stage was furnished with scenery, trap doors,
turntables, trapeze appliances, and the like.

Along with this mechanical development there appeared, also
in the seventeenth century, Chikamatsu Monzayamon (born
about 1653), one of the most important figures in the whole

6 This species is found also in Italy and Spain; and in recent years has
been successfully produced in the United States by Mr. Tony Sarg and
Mr, Jean Gros,

er gett - ™“?110 INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN

history of the Japanese drama, and completely identified with
the marionette theater. His most famous play is said to be
The Battles of Kokusenya, the hero of which was a celebrated
pirate. The scenes are laid in Nanking and Japan at the time
of the last Ming emperor. It contains one of the characteris-
tic situations in oriental drama: namely, the conqueror asking
the defeated enemy for the gift of his favorite wife as a trib-
ute of war.’ In this play are also the treacherous general, the
substitution of another child in order to save the heir to the
throne, much bloodshed, suicide, and fighting. Spectators have
testified to the vividness and force of these representations, to
the tenseness of the dramatic situations, and to the impressive-
ness of the dialogue. Chikamatsu had the gift of diverting the
attention from improbabilities and of making his characters
bear themselves like tragic heroes. Moreover, he had the great
virtue of never being dull.

The Forty-seven Ronins. With the exception of the No
plays and the works of Chikamatsu, nearly everything of note
in dramatic literature belongs to the eighteenth century. Many
pieces from that time had three or four collaborating authors.
One of the best known of these collaborators was Idzumo,
who had a share in making a play called The Magazine of
Faithful Retainers,—one of the forty or fifty extant versions
of the story of The Loyal Legion, or the Forty-seven Ronins,
based upon a historical incident which occurred in 1703. A
member of the samurai (knightly class) was unjustly degraded
by his feudal lord for some trifling accident. His companions,
all members of his own order, assembled in protest and drew
lots for the privilege of killing the unjust master. The lot was
drawn and the work done; but the code of their order required
that the rebels, one and all, should commit hara-kiri. So the
Forty-seven Ronins perished; and every year thousands of ad-
mirers make their way to the scene of their burial. In the
many versions of the story, various additions have been made,
such as a love affair, a tea-house scene, bloody and thrilling
incidents, and many touches which reveal contemporary man-
ners. As a play it is certain to draw a crowded house.

7A variation of this theme is found in Monna Vanna by Maeterlinck.INDIA, CHINA, AND JAPAN III

About the beginning of the eighteenth century the marion-
ette theater began to decline, and writers ceased to produce
plays suited for puppets. In the late nineteenth century vigor-
ous attempts were made by both noblemen and scholars to im-
prove the stage. One of the first features to be condemned
was the presentation of scenes of violence and cruelty. Many
of the restrictions as to attendance have been removed; women
are allowed to appear as actors; and the tendency towards ex-
cessive realism has been offset by the practical application of
esthetic principles.

= ee | ‘es *SECTION FOUR
DRAMA OF THE MIDDLE AGES5
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;CHAPTER XIII

A THOUSAND YEARS OF QUIESCENCE AND THE
BEGINNINGS OF SACRED DRAMA

“Quem quaeritis in sepulchro, Christicole ?”
“Jesum Nazarenum crucifixum, O Ceelicole.”
“Non est hic, surrexit sicut predixerat,
Ite, nuntiate quia surrexit de sepulchro.”
Dialogue upon which was based one
of the earliest of the sacred plays.

For nearly a thousand years after the death of Seneca in
62 AD., the flame of dramatic genius was smouldering. The
drama of the Orient was unknown to the western world, and
that of Greece was all but forgotten. Of course play-acting
did not altogether cease. Gorgeous spectacles were occasion-
ally given by the Roman emperors, though with less and less
frequency, until with the general decay of the empire they dis-
appeared. The mimes and pantomimes remained alive, though
their display, being already on the lowest rung of the ladder
of art, could not descend much lower. Although Rome fell,
yet merchants and porters and slaves required the Tired Busi-
ness Man’s entertainment. Small wandering companies, simi-
lar perhaps to the modern Punch-and-Judy show, lived from
hand to mouth, preserving after a fashion the seeds of the
most ancient Roman art. These low-caste companies seem to
disappear, only to show up again wherever and whenever pub-
lic opinion sanctioned them. Like the gipsies, they never en-
tirely died out. During these centuries of quiescence they lived
in the alleys and on the edges of civilization, but still they
lived.

Reappearance of play-acting in Christian ritual. While the
mimes belonged to the gutters, another class of play-actors
emerged from the cloisters. From the very early days of the
Church occasional attempts were made by monks and priests to
utilize the beauties of the classic drama in the interest of reli-

11511 A THOUSAND YEARS OF QUIESCENCE

gion. As early as the fifth century living pictures were intro-
duced' into sacred services, especially on festival days; and
Short Latin dialogues from the Bible were chanted by the
clergy to illustrate the teachings of the Massj There devel-
oped strange exercises, such as the Feast of Fools and the
Feast of the Ass which, in the beginning, were doubtless reli-
gious in intention, but sogn became boisterous and licentious
travesties of sacred rites. /These_ and similar exercises seem to
indicate attempts on the part of the leaders of the Church to
substitute for the pagan spectacles some sort of theatrical en-,
tertainment which would be in accord with the Christian spirit,

Another group, doubtless small enough, consisted of learned
priests and nuns somewhat familiar with the classic plays, who
endeavored to imitate them and to preserve the knowledge of
the classic tongues and literatures. Here and there, in con-
vents and monasteries, the plays of Plautus and Terence were
read and sometimes acted. Imitations of them were written in
medieval Latin. The most notable of these attempts was that
of Roswitha, the learned nun of Gandersheim, Germany, who,
in the tenth century, wrote so-called Christian plays modeled
on those of Terence. Roswitha’s plays portray the miracles
of saints, and are especially concerned with the teaching of
chastity. According to the usage of today Roswitha is not al-
ways decorous, and lacks the gift of individualizing her char-
acters; but her plots are good and her dialogue is often brisk
and pointed. For a woman to have achieved any excellence at
all in the art of the drama in that long period of darkness and
silence, seems remarkable enough. Saint Hilary (a pupil of
the celebrated Abélard), who is supposed to have been an
Englishman, wrote three plays in Latin with refrains in old
French, The subjects are Daniel, the raising of Lazarus, and
the miracle of Saint Nicholas.

4 Sources of European drama, In the slow rediscovery of the
pleasures of the theater, there were, generally speaking, three
main sources from which the art renewed itself: first, whatever
was left from Greece and Rome, including not only the great

1 Three of Roswitha’s plays were produced at the Studio Theater of
Joseph Lauren, New York, in April, 1926.J
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AND BEGINNINGS OF SACRED DRAMA | 117

plays (most of which were practically lost for centuries), but
the stock characters of comedy and farce, with the lively meth-
ods of the mimes and pantomimes; second, a new source of
plot material—the Bible, together with the Apocrypha, the
lives of the saints, and events connected with holy people and
places; and third, the romances of the medieval poets and
story-tellers. rom these three main elements were built up
the medieval sacred drama and later the various national
dramas in the European countries.

yk How political unity fostered the growth of drama. When
the first signs of a revival of interest in drama began to ap-
pear, France, Germany, Italy and other European countries
did not exist as nations. The general fashion of government,
which reached its culmination in the latter part of the Middle
Ages, was founded upon the feudal system, its chief and his
body of retainers, and was practically alike throughout the
different sections of middle and northern Europe. The unit of
the social structure was the baron or feudal chief: and over all
the units in a given section reigned a sovereign power, at least
nominally supreme. This political situation created a certain
similarity of thought and opinion. Ideas of conduct, pleasure,
and the requirements of aristocratic life were very much the
same from one feudal domain to another. There were visita-
tions from castle to castle, and a popular song or story spread
with surprising quickness. Merchants, scholars, musicians,
priests, and troubadours traveled from country to country,
carrying with them news, fashions, and polite learning. What
more natural than that the mystery and miracle play should
be carried from one end of Europe to the other?

4 The religious unity of medieval Europe. Even more impor-
tant than the similarity of political ideas was the domination
of the Roman Church. During the first thousand years of our
era the religion of Rome extended over practically the whole
of Europe; and it was the universal acceptance of the Church
which made the sacred plays possible. The service of the Mass
was the same everywhere, although the language used for it
was equally unintelligible to both knight and serf: for, broadly
speaking, neither could read nor write, much less understand118 A THOUSAND YEARS OF QUIESCENCE

Latin. For the most part, only the priests understood what
they were saying. Association with the Church had an impor-
tance in the medieval world that does not wholly obtain in the
world of today. Every man was inside the Church. Then,
too, nearly all intellectual and artistic activities, music, painting,
and architecture, were closely associated with it. There spread
over Europe a mania for cathedral building, so that many cit-
ies were supplied with beautiful houses of worship for the use
of rich and poor alike. The officers of the Church stood with
kings and emperors, sovereigns of the world. It was this pow-~
erful, unified, paternal body under whose protection European
drama was born.

Primitive nature of medieval drama. The revived drama,
born in the Church, is termed religious, sacred, liturgical, or
ecclesiastical, and flourished from about the ninth century to
the sixteenth. Mystery, miracle, and the Latin word ludus
were names frequently used.2 Some writers distinguish the
terms mystery and miracle as meaning, respectively, a play
based upon a biblical episode and one based upon the history
of a saint or Church father. The nomenclature, however, has
never been exact. Comparatively few of the plays were ever
written down; and of the surviving manuscripts only a small
number have been published.

Medieval playwrights began at the bottom of the ladder. In
considering their first attempts, one would gain the impression
that the art had never been tried before. All that had been
learned by the ancients about constructing a play, about ma-
chinery for the stage, about acting, the use of masks, the rules
of the unities, the proper subjects for tragedy—all these things
were temporarily lost. Those who made the new plays neither
knew nor cared about them. They began just where the Dio-
nysiac revelers and the Hopi Indians began: with the attempt
to represent an event in the life of the god whom they wor-
shiped. This beginning of sacred drama is all the more inter-
esting because it is the first and last time we are enabled to
watch the process of development. We can trace it almost

2 Many other names are met with, according to the region and century.
See Chapter XIV.AND BEGINNINGS OF SACRED DRAMA _tIig

step by step from the first simple scene before the altar to the
latest spectacle of our own day. For three or four centuries
this “new” art was left to flourish undisturbed by any influ-
ence from outside sources.

The Easter plays. The first scene suggesting itself to the
priests for representation in dramatic form was the Quem que-
ritis episode, which takes place at the tomb the third day after
the burial of Jesus. In its earliest form it was probably some-
thing like living pictures or dumb show. The dialogue, part of
which is quoted at the head of this chapter, was recited in
Latin by the priests. The next step was doubtless the presen-
tation of the scene which immediately precedes the Resurrec-
tion—the laying of Jesus in the tomb. There are churches still
in existence which have the sepulcher of wood or stone in the
floor of the chancel. In this the crucifix was laid, to be taken
forth again on Easter morning amid the joyous hallelujahs of
the choir. In the course of time other scenes were chosen. It
would be natural to precede the Burial and Resurrection with
the Entry into Jerusalem and the Trial before Pilate; until
finally a great part of the life of Jesus was represented.

The Christmas plays. Another event which became the
nucleus of a series of plays was the Birth at Bethlehem. The
picturesque scene at the manger, the visit of the Wise Men,
the movement of the Star—all these things could be presented
with ease. The Star could be moved forward on a wire until
it paused in the right place, and the whole story could be made
appealing and interesting, aside from its religious meaning.
The stories embodied the central truths of the Christian doc-
trine, so that their representation, or attendance upon repre-
sentations, was counted to the credit of the believer. Tradi-
tion says that there was a promise from one of the popes of
release from purgatory for a thousand days to all who should
attend the miracles performed at Chester. The Christmas play
became even more popular than the Easter mystery. Saint
Francis of Assisi in the twelfth century presented the Bethle-
hem scene at an altar which he had built for himself in the
forest. There was a manger with a real child, and near by
stood a real ox and a real ass.

pla
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4120 A THOUSAND YEARS OF QUIESCENCE

Immediately after Bethlehem came the Slaughter of the In-
nocents, which was enacted on the twenty-eighth of December.
It was strikingly presented by a procession of choir boys
dressed in white, with the figure of the Lamb preceding them.
From his throne Herod ordered the children to be murdered;
and when the deed was accomplished the children were called
to heaven. They made this journey by ascending to the choir-
loft, where they sang the Te Deum.

A third center around which sacred plays were built was the
story of the Old Testament Prophets, together with incidents
in the lives of the early Church fathers. Saint Augustine is
represented as preaching to the Jews, endeavoring to convince
them of the divinity of Christ. He invokes Isaiah, Nehemiah
and other biblical characters, adding to the group Virgil, Neb-
uchadnezzar and the mythological Sybil. At the close of the
scene the whole company, being convinced of their error, fall
in adoration of the Christ child.

Here then are the three most important nuclei around which
the new drama arranged itself. It is not known just when or
where these dumb shows and simple dialogues were first added
to the service of the Church. The custom was pretty well
established by the end of the ninth century, though it was not
until three or four hundred years later that the plays were
committed to writing. They became immensely popular and
spread over all Europe. The Christian Church possessed many
of the same external elements of worship as were employed
in the rituals of primitive peoples: the procession, the bearing
of the sacred emblems by the priest, the singing and chanting
before the altar, and the use of special costumes and a dis-
tinctive speech. When these elements were combined with the
story of the life of Jesus, the result was a dramatic spectacle
full of human interest, and susceptible of harmless elaboration.

The writers and managers of the earliest plays, most of
whom were probably monks, are not known by name. The
dialogue parts were generally improvised or transmitted orally
from one set of actors to another. There was no division into
acts or scenes, and stage appliances were of the simplest
description, since, up to the twelfth century, the chancel of theAND BEGINNINGS OF SACRED DRAMA 121

church was itself the stage. The actors were priests, and the
occasion of the performances was some festal day of the
Church. There were no professional actors, and if there had
been the performance would not have been entrusted to them.
In the chancel, or just without, on the floor of the church,
would be placed the designated localities, or stations: the man-
ger, Herod’s throne, the House of Pilate, or whatever else was
required by the play. At an early period lyrical passages were
added to the prose of the dialogue; and though the original
speech was Latin, the language of the common people quickly
crept in. Hymns and chants from the service of the day pro-
vided music.

Until about the middle of the thirteenth century the story of
the rise and development of the liturgical play is practically
the same for all countries of continental Europe. It was not a
French, German, or Italian product, but a popular European
movement. From the thirteenth century-on,-however, charac-
teristic differences began to show themselves in the various
countries.

=
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/CHAPTER XIV
MYSTERIES AND MIRACLES ON THE CONTINENT

All the sweetness of religion is conveyed to the world by the
hands of its story-tellers and image-makers.—BERNARD SHAW.

France seems to have taken the lead in the making of sacred
plays, both as to time and quality. Manuscripts belonging to
the twelfth and thirteenth centuries have been found and ed-
‘ted. There is also in manuscript an enormous number of plays
still unedited—fifteen volumes, each containing from four
thousand to thirty-seven thousand lines. The sacred play was
called jeu, histoire, représentation, or mystéere; and the stories
were often grouped in cycles, according to the source, as the
Cycle of the Old Testament, or the Cycle of the Saints.

The Miracles of Our Lady. As the taste for religious plays
spread, the need for fresh material became insistent. One of
the earliest subjects, outside the biblical narrative, was the
miraculous power of the Virgin Mary. Hundreds of Mary
plays were written and performed, especially in France, and the
subject retained its popularity throughout the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries. Forty-one examples are preserved in one
collection. The plot varies little from one play to another.
Some one in distress calls upon the Virgin for help, and is
delivered from his troubles. If the suppliant is a great sin-
ner, so much the better. The playwrights were generous in
their ideas of forgiveness. For example, one miracle portrays
a hermit whose evil desires got the better of him. He seduced
the daughter of a king and threw her into a well. Immediately
repenting of his carelessness, he called upon the Virgin for help
and imposed upon himself severe penance. Thereupon, after
sundry minor episodes, the girl was restored to life and the
hermit was promoted to a bishopric.

The Miracle of Theophilus by Rotebceuf consists of six hun-

122MYSTERIES; AND MIRACLES 123

dred and sixty-six verses in dialogue. Theophilus is the Faust
of the earlier Middle Ages. He sells his soul to the devil in
order to regain a certain position he had lost. The bargain is
made, Theophilus succeecs in his ambitions, and in due time
the devil comes to claim his soul; but the man is too great a
coward to stand by his bargain. He prays for help and is
saved through the intervention of the Virgin. The famous
legend of the Juggler of Notre Dame tells of a poor monk
who knew no way in which to serve the Virgin but with his
tricks and dances; so he performed them before her shrine at
night. He was discovered and denounced by his brethren;
whereupon the Virgin herself approached, blessed the Juggler,
and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. The miracle of
Sister Beatrice is equally famous, telling how the Virgin took
the place of an erring Sister and pardoned her guilt. These
two legends have been used by celebrated writers and com-
posers as subjects for drama and opera, among them Maeter-
linck and Massenet.

Great length of French miracles. The next step in the ex-
tension of subjects was taken by including events connected
with the lives of the apostles and saints. The miracles of Saint
Nicholas were especially popular. The story of the twelve
apostles afforded material for endless elaboration, and tempted
authors to write at astonishing length. One of the apostolic
histoires contains more than 40,000 lines, and is probably the
longest play ever written. The plays are nearly all in rhymed
verse, eight or ten feet to the line.

Structure of the miracles. The great majority of the sacred
plays were rambling in form, with single scenes strung to-
gether without much thought of coherence, unity, or climax.
Occasionally, however, a play is found which exhibits consid-
erable skill. The Wise and Foolish Virgins, originating in
France, belongs to the period when Latin was gradually being
superseded by the common tongue. In this piece the chorus
sings in Latin, but the dialogue is a mixture of French and
Latin. The action is straightforward and lively, consisting of

1 The length of a Greek tragedy is about 2,000 lines, while that of a
Shakespearean play is about five times as much.124 MYSTERIES AND MIRACLES

a request for oil from the Foolish Virgins, the reply of the
Wise Ones counselling them to go to the Merchant, his re-
fusal, and the final appeal to the Bridegroom. This happy man
is as relentless as the Merchant. He denounces them in Latin
and then curses them in French; and presently the devils come
and carry off the poor Foolish Ones. \,The plot has all the ele-
ments of dramatic wholeness: a motive, a theme, a coherent
action, and a climax.

In the course of time stock figures began to emerge from the
plays. The spirit of wickedness was impersonated in Vice,
who from the earliest days seemed determined to become a
comic figure, cutting up antics with the devil, and interpolat-
ing amusing scenes and farcical business into the most serious
play. Nameless people such as the wife of Noah, the servant
of Cain, the soldier at the tomb, were added to the conventional
stage persone. God and the devil, both of whom had been
important from the first, now had well known features which
every one knew and expected.

When the plays came to be written down, toward the end
of the thirteenth century, there was still no division into acts
or scenes; indeed no such division was ever made. The use of
music often made natural halting places; otherwise the players
stopped whenever they chose. The scholar-priest Abélard,
whose works belong to the twelfth century, wrote three plays.
One of these, the Miracles of Saint Nicholas, has refrains in
old French, while the body of the play is in Latin.

Whether in prose or in verse, in Latin or in the vernacular,
the plays were above all things popular, written and acted by
amateurs for the amusement or edification of the common
people. They had all the crudities, the lapses in taste, and
lack of artistic judgment which popular movements are apt to
possess. There was no historical sense, no attempt to give the
play the setting or costumes appropriate to the period in which
the action took place. Everything was translated into the pres-
ent, and given with many homely, natural touches; and in
the early days at least the plays were naively pious and devout.

The plays leave the altar. With the enlargement and elabora-
tion of the play, the chancel of the church proved too smallON THE.CONTINENT 125

for its production; also the plays became too long to be incor-
porated into the service of the Mass. Consequently, about the
twelfth century the performance was moved out to a platform
before the church door, or perhaps onto the steps, or even into
the street. Lay actors began to take part, and the common
speech soon crowded Latin out of the lines. The performance
was still under the control of the priests; but in spite of this
its tone began to deteriorate. Gradually, the simplicity and
sincerity of the earlier days was replaced by an effort to enter-
tain at any cost, or to afford a thrilling spectacle. Coarse and
vulgar scenes crept in, serious passages were made ridiculous
by the comic antics of Vice, devils and imps; and often the
whole purpose of the play was forgotten for the sake of pro-
viding some novel feature. The taste of the people was cor-
rupted by the presentation of scenes of torture, bloodshed,
and violence.

The Martyrdoms of the Apostles became the subject of per-
formances so realistic that the life of the actor was often in
danger. In-.one play, the executioner kills all twelve of the
apostles. Fools and hunchbacks, blind men, lame men, and
jesters made cheap diversions for the thoughtless mob. As the
part of the fool was seldom written down, he had the license
of his genius, whatever it might be, and could prolong his
clownish part as long as he could get applause. Jugglers and
conjurers held an important place, working their wonders be-
fore the eyes of an ignorant populace. The wife of Noah be-
came the stock figure of the stubborn shrew, who had to be
coaxed, cajoled, and finally driven into the Ark. The comi-
calities connected with Hell’s Mouth, as its victims were
thrown into its red-hot cavern, were practically inexhaustible.
Sometimes the imps and victims were actually in danger of
being scorched as they were thrown too near the tongues of
flame. Taking freedom with what might be called the para-
phernalia of the Church may have caused some loosening of
authority ; and eventually the players did not hesitate to scoff
at the weaknesses of kings, priests, and wealthy and important
people, who were uniformly represented as stupid, vicious or
greedy.

-
~

a i,126 MYSTERIES AND MIRACLES

The later medieval stage. One plan of production on the
continent seems to have been to erect a long, wide platform in
the public square or in front of the cathedral. Along the back
of this platform were ranged the stations (or mansions) neces-
sary for the play. There were no footlights, front curtains or
wings; but in the flourishing days sometimes a splendidly dec-
orated curtain was hung at the back of the platform. An illus-
trated copy of a Mystery of the Passion of our Lord, given in
Valenciennes about the middle of the sixteenth century, rep-
resents the stage settings as follows: at the extreme left of the
spectators is the throne of heaven, elevated, and perhaps fur-
nished with a half-curtain so that only the head and shoulders
of God should be visible. Proceeding from left to right are
Nazareth, the Temple at Jerusalem, the City itself; the palace
of Pilate, the house of the High Priest; the Sea of Gennesaret ;
and finally, at the spectator’s extreme right, Hell’s Mouth.
The devices used to indicate the mansions were of the simplest
sort, such as a high door in the wall for a temple, or a small
tank of water for the Sea. They often exhibited amusing
anachronisms and childish ideas. There was no attempt at
historical truth, and not the least desire to deceive,—only to
make the story clear. Different mansions were of course neces-
sary for different plays; but Heaven and Hell were nearly
always in demand and were, in fact, too popular to omit.

Upon this stage were ranged the different groups of actors,
who stood or sat at the rear when not taking part in the per-
formance. God, with gilded face, sat upon Heaven’s throne.
The devil and his imps belonged naturally at the other end.
There was usually a Prologue, recited by a herald or one of
the banner bearers, in which the theme of the play was an-
nounced, the audience complimented, and an attempt made to
secure silence. Possibly the herald, in order to gain some
degree of attention, would attempt a joke, saying, “It is quite
easy to be silent. You have only your own tongue to hold!”
There must have been great differences in the manner and ex-
cellence of production in different places, according to the
wealth or zeal of the townspeople. Since the priests no
longer participated and professional actors did not exist, evenentury

y-stage in the 16th C

MysterTele eeON THE CONTINENT 127

the most difficult parts had to be entrusted to people whose
ordinary business in life was buying, selling, or working at
some trade. Only occasionally were women allowed to take
part; more often their places were filled by beardless youths
whose voices had not yet changed.

As the festivals became more popular and frequent, and the
productions themselves more splendid, the task of financing
and preparing them was of great importance, especially after
they had passed out of the hands of the clergy, In Paris a
brotherhood, called the Fraternity of the Bazoche, in 1303
acquired the right to conduct religious festival plays. This
brotherhood was made up of the clerks of Parliament and of
the palace. Their privilege lasted for about a century, when
another company, called the Brotherhood of the Passion, took
over the right to present the mysteries and miracles, while
the Bazoche continued the moralities and other secular plays.
Even where such organizations existed, important men of the
parish took part in the festival play and helped to finance it.
Members of the cast took pride in their réles, and the whole
community had a share in the glory and prestige of the per-
formance. Aside from the festivals of the Church, there were
also performances for the entertainment of visiting royalties,
and for the celebration of royal marriages and birthdays.
When the kings of France and England entered Paris on the
first day of December, 1420, the Mystery of the Passion was
performed “on a raised scaffolding 100 paces long.”

The groups indicated by the terms mystery and miracle often
overlap; but in general, on the continent after the fifteenth
century, the term mystery applies to biblical plays, miracle to
those founded upon the stories of the saints. The Mary Mag-
dalen plays, of which there are many, partake of the nature of
both groups. The mysteries, which began about the ninth
century and lasted until nearly the end of the sixteenth,
reached their most flourishing period in the fourteenth and fif-
teenth centuries. The vogue of the Mary plays was highest
during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The descrip-
tion of performances in France probably applies fairly well to
other continental countries; but since playhouses, stages, prop-128 MYSTERIES AND MIRACLES

erties, and directions for actors and managers have all disap-
peared, an accurate knowledge of details is well-nigh impos-
sible.

In Italy. The taste for theatrical entertainment in Italy was
met in two ways: first, by plays similar to those just described ;
and, second, by spectacular processions (trionfo) which in
time grew to such proportions as to astonish the world. One
of the earliest representations in the first group was a Beth-
lehem play at a Christmas celebration in Umbria in 1223. A
ludus Christi was performed at Cividale in 1298, and again in
1303. Like most of the sacred pieces, these plays were in
verse, some of which was sung. Symonds relates that an in-
ventory of the Perugian confraternity of Saint Domenico,
made in 1339, includes “wings and crowns for 68 angels, masks
for devils, a star for the Magi, a crimson robe for Christ,
black veils for the Marys, two lay figures of thieves, a dove,
and a coat of mail.” By the year 1375 performances in
churches in Italy were common, either before or after the
sermon. “The audience assembled in the nave, and a scaf-
fold was erected along the screen which divided the nave and
transepts from the choir. Here the brethren played their
pieces, while the preacher at appropriate intervals addressed
the people, explaining what they were about to see.” 2

Italian nomenclature. The plays of the Old Testament were
first called figuri, and those of the New Testament vangeli.
By the fifteenth century, however, all plays of a sacred nature
were known as sacre rappresentazione. Other names, rather
loosely applied, were festa, funzione, storia, divozione, mistero,
Passione, miraculo, or esemple. As everywhere else, the earliest
plays were extemporaneous. In 1264 a Societa del Gonfalone
was established at Rome for the express purpose of represent-
ing the Passion of our Lord. One of the earliest written
Italian plays, composed by Feo Belcari in 1449, in the ver-
nacular, tells the story of Isaac and Jacob. The scholarly octave
verse was used, however, and there was an attempt to make
the work polished and elegant. In this and other Italian plays
dramatic force was not so much considered as neatness in epi-

2 John Addington Symonds, The Renaissance in Italy.ON THE CONTINENT 129

gram and elegance of phrase. The sacre rappresentazione were
at their highest point of development during the fifty years
from 1470 to 1520. Fraternities were formed to give them
at their own expense, and they set an example of pomp and
splendor. The actors were usually boys, and the performances
often took place in the oratory or refectory of a monastery.
The festa were also given, free of cost, in the public squares.
In Florence the great Lorenzo di Medici set the fashion of
writing sacred plays.

The Italian triumphs (trionfo). The second group of enter-
tainments, the spectacular processions, must be noted as indi-
cating the popular appetite for semi-histrionic display; for
these spectacles undoubtedly distracted the genius and the at-
tention of the people from true drama. They were heralded
long in advance, and enormous sums of money were expended
upon them. The most eminent artists were engaged to provide
the decorations, the music, the costumes and dances. In many
cases the purpose was merely to provide something to excite
the wonder of the crowd; but in certain instances the producers,
in their desire for a thrilling spectacle, descended to almost
unheard-of brutalities. Sismondi relates that on the occasion
of a great public demonstration near the end of the thirteenth
century, there was arranged a triumphal procession and spec-
tacular pageant called The Torments of the Damned. In this
play the river Arno was turned aside (at enormous public
cost) and the cave thus exposed was made to represent hell.
Into this hell living actors were cast, and real tortures were
perpetrated upon them, so that their groans and cries should
render the portrayal of the torments more horrible and life-
like. These activities, however, have little to do with drama,
except to show how easily, especially in Italy, the theater was
debauched into the circus.

In Germany. The sacred play, called Spiel, in Germany
developed with far more seriousness along the lines of true
drama. The Easter plays were generally of a joyous, hopeful
nature, offering opportunity for the admixture of comedy, while
in the Passion plays a more serious tone prevailed. The Play
of the Ten Virgins was performed at Eisenach in 1322 before130 MYSTERIES AND MIRACLES

the Landgraf Friedrich. Tradition says that the play so
impressed him with its severity that he fell into a melancholy
mood, suffered an apoplectic stroke and soon died. When the
biblical stories, the miracles of the saints, the Virgin and the
apostles had all been worn threadbare, the playwrights turned
to folk-lore and history. By the fifteenth century the sacred
play was somewhat associated with the more literary output
of the Mastersingers; and in the sixteenth century it was often
used as a means of attacking the papacy, especially in Switzer-
land. A play called The Prodigal Son, written in 1527 by a
Hessian named Waldis, was much admired for its rough force
and wit. It was divided into two acts, with a portion of the
Psalms used as a chorus. In it there is an allusion to Terence,
though the play itself is in Low German. The opponents of
the Reformation of course were not slow in utilizing the same
means of forwarding their doctrines.

The earliest German biblical play which shows a striving
both for artistic effect and dramatic force is Susanna, written
by Paul Rebhun, a clergyman, and performed in 1535. It has
five acts, a prologue, epilogue, and chorus. The verse is care-
fully written, with cadences and length of line varying to
avoid monotony and to suit the changes of scene. The
religious play remained in vogue in Germany until long after
Luther and the Reformation.

In Spain. From the twelfth century the sacred plays formed
one of the popular amusements; but the extant fragments
belong, at the earliest, to the thirteenth and fourteenth cen-
turies. The Spanish name was auto, or auto sacramentale
(sacrificial act). All the larger cities had their appointed fes-
tivals which began with a procession, headed by banner-
bearers and musicians. After the procession came various en-
tertainments, the whole ceremony ending with the auto sacra-
mentale, which taught some lesson of religion. In the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries the auto continued to be an important
national amusement, and was carried on by the greatest of the
Spanish dramatists.

Stage machinery. No adequate idea of medieval sacred
drama can be complete without a knowledge of the extraordi-ON THE CONTINENT 131

nary mechanical devices which these amateur play-actors had:

at their command. The plays of the sixteenth century were
often far-famed for their wonders.* At a Passion play in
Vienna in 1510 there were eight masters of machinery who
had charge of the conjuring tricks. In the Acts of the
Apostles, performed at Bruges, there appeared artificial drome-
daries and camels; a vessel full of all kinds of animals, which
descended from heaven and ascended; devils flying through
the air and spitting fire; tigers which came up from the earth
and were converted into sheep; a fire-spitting serpent creep-
ing up an oak tree; angels flying about singing, and irradi-
ated with a lovely light. Other wonders caused blood to come
out of bodies, water was changed into wine, the staff of Moses
bloomed, the sun was eclipsed, and earthquakes rent the earth.
When Saint Paul was decapitated, the head made.three bounds,
and at each place where the head rested a spring started flowing
with milk, blood and water. All this shows mainly that the
simple play, meant to teach the stories of the Bible and the
principles of religion, soon became transformed into a means
of displaying cheap tricks and magic before an ignorant and
gaping populace.

8 Described at length in the History of the Theatrical Art (Vol. I1),
by Karl Mantzius.

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CHAPTER XV
MYSTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND

The religious mysteries were designed for the edification of
youth, their piety too often hypocritical, and their extravagant
monastic morality in glaring opposition to the ethics of society.—
J. ADDINGTON Symonps, The Renatssance in Italy.

It is probable that the sacred play was brought to England
from France after the Norman conquest. Throughout the
fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries there was a con-
stant supply of mysteries and miracles. More than one
hundred English towns, some of them very small, are known to
have been provided with these entertainments, which in some
places were given every year. Usually, however, an interval
of a few years elapsed between productions. Corpus Christi
day, which falls in early June, was the most popular time,
though Whitsuntide and occasionally other Church festal days
were marked by performances. On one occasion the Parish
Clerks gave a pageant which lasted for three days, and again
one lasting for eight days. The boy choristers of Saint Paul’s
in London became celebrated for their histrionic ability, and
in 1378 they begged Parliament to issue an injunction against
“unskilled performers.” In 1416 Henry V entertained the
Emperor Sigismund at Windsor with a play on the subject of
Saint George; and in the following year the English bishops
who were delegated to the Council of Constance—the same
Council which promised safe conduct to John Huss and then
burned him at the stake—entertained their hosts with a Christ-
mas play in three parts, the Nativity, the Visit of the Magi,
and the Slaughter of the Innocents. Two performances were
given, one for their fellow councillors and themselves, the other
for the burghers of the town.

Some of the extant manuscripts. The usual name for these

132MYSTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND 133

plays in England was miracle, or the Latin Iudus, or some-
times the word history. The name mystery is said to have
been first applied, in England, in the early eighteenth century
by Dodsley, the editor of a volume of old plays. Of the extant
manuscripts, the earliest is probably the Harrowing of Hell,
in three versions, all of which were probably taken from the
French. It is simply a dramatic dialogue in verse, in which
Christ and Satan argue over the ownership of the souls in
hell; and it belongs naturally with the Easter group of plays.
Two plays have been discovered within the present century, one
on the subject of Abraham and Isaac; the other, belonging to
the lost Newcastle Cycle, on the Building of the Ark, both
probably surviving from the fourteenth century.

The Cycles. The greater part of the important manuscripts
of biblical drama belongs to the cycles—a medieval product
in a sense peculiar to England—which attempted to cover the
history of Man from his creation to the Day of Judgment.
In these cycles there appeared, almost unconsciously, some-
thing like the principle of unity: first came the creation, then
the fall of Man, which necessitated his redemption. This
redemption, after being foretold by the prophets, was accom-
plished by the birth and passion of Christ, with his resurrec-
tion. The series, taken as a whole, formed a true dramatic
sequence, in which the soul of Man was the hero.

There are commonly counted four important English cycles:
Chester, York, Coventry, and Towneley (also called Wake-
field). Cycles are also known to have been produced at New-
castle, Canterbury, and Lincoln. Of those that survive, the
Chester cycle is probably the earliest. Of the Newcastle cycle
but one play remains, The Building of the Ark, in which there
are five characters, and Noah’s wife is represented as a vixen.
Such is her stubborn temper that Noah is constrained to say
to her,

“The devil of hell thee speed
To ship when thou shalt go!”

The cycles vary in quality, and the plays are not always the
work of one hand, nor even of one century. The manuscripts,134 MYSTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND

as we have them, have been revised, edited, and arranged,
probably from several earlier models, possibly in some cases
from the French. In the different cycles there is naturally
great similarity both in subject matter and in the sequence of
plays; but there are also interesting differences of treatment.

The Pageant. Doubtless biblical plays were often given in
England in the continental manner, on a stationary platform
with the “mansions” arranged in proper order. Gradually,
however, the pageant became specially associated with the
English play. The word first meant the movable scaffolding
upon which the play was given, but was afterward applied to
the play itself. Reduced to its simplest elements, the pageant
was a play on wheels. This of course was not a new thing.
Tradition assigns a cart to Thespis ; there were “carriage plays”
in Spain; and traveling shows in Japan. In England, as a rule,
each play of the cycle had its own carriage, and all moved
along in procession, each wagon giving its play in turn at
each stopping place. Usually the pageant began very early in
the morning. In the proclamation of the York performances
in 1415, it was announced that the plays would begin between
four and five o’clock in the morning.

All our knowledge concerning the method of presenting the
pageant comes from a report left by one Archdeacon Rogers,
who wrote of it in quaint English about the year 1517. He
said that each carriage had a higher and a lower room, the
lower “where they appareled themselves,” and the higher where
they played. Temporary stands were built for spectators, and
good seats sold for high prices. Sometimes the action of the
play called for horsemen, in which case obviously the action
would spread out beyond the limits of the stage. The celebra-
tion opened with a procession, and after its close there was an
orderly round-up by the councilmen and mayor. One writer
says:

“To a medieval town the performance of a mystery was an
event of immense interest. ... The magistrates ordered all the
shops to be closed, and forbade all noisy work. The streets were
empty, the houses locked up, and none but solitary armed watch-MYSTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND © 135

men, specially engaged for the occasion, were seen about the resi-
dences. All were gathered in the public square.’ 1

The Guilds. We have seen how in France the production
of plays, once having left the hands of the clergy, passed into
the care of certain Brotherhoods. In England the production
was managed by the tradesmen’s guilds. Each play was ar-
ranged, acted, costumed, and financed by its own guild. A
study of the distribution of the plays among the guilds forms
one of the diverting features of this medieval carnival. In
the York cycle the tinners began with God Creating Heaven;
the plasterers followed with God Creating the Earth; and then
came the card-makers, with God Creating Man. Of course the
ship-builders and seamen played Noah and the Ark, while the
goldsmiths enacted the Three Kings, because they could furnish
gold crowns. The guilds took pride in making a good showing,
being inspired doubtless both by the spirit of good workman-
ship and the desire to advertise their wares. The smiths had
the task of affixing the body of Christ to the cross. A dialogue
between the torturers in one of the Towneley plays indicates
how one holds down his knees, while the other is cautioned
to draw down the limbs with all his might. They then con-
gratulate themselves that neither “lewde man ne clerke nothing
better shuld.”

Scenery, costumes, and finance. In the larger towns con-
siderable time and care were spent in preparation for the
pageants. The scenery and stage appliances must have been
somewhat scant, if all were accommodated in a rolling green-
room and stage combined. The splendor of the costumes per-
haps made up for anything that was lacking in the setting.
It was the custom for God to wear a white coat and have his
face gilded. Herod, and miscreants generally, were dressed
as Saracens, they being the stage villains of the Middle Ages.
The expenses, which were often large, were sometimes partly
met by a nobleman or other public spirited benefactor; but in
general the citizens or guilds financed the production. A col-
lection was taken up at the time of the procession; and, in

1 Karl Mantzius, History of the Theatrical Art.136 MYSTERIES AND PAGEANTS IN ENGLAND

addition, a tax, ranging from a penny to fourpence and called
pageant silver, was imposed upon each member of the guilds.
It was paid over to the pageant master, who was elected each
year. Today he would be called the business manager, or im-
presario. The actors and “drawers” were paid for their
services; but there was a fine for bad acting or undue for-
getfulness of the parts, also fines for guilds which were slow
in handing over their pageant silver.

The most impressive of all the mysteries was the Passion
of Christ; and this was, as we have seen, also the earliest to be
dramatized. In England it took shape about the fourteenth
century, gradually showing the conflict between the spiritual
strength of Jesus, on the one hand, and on the other the com-
bined forces of the Jewish and Roman worlds. Of all the
ecclesiastical plays, this alone can still be seen enacted in mod-
ern times.”

Lack of artistic quality in the biblical plays. Theoretically,
the escape of the liturgical plays from the control of the
Church, the extension of subjects and the possibility of greater
freedom of treatment, ought to have enabled the dramatists to
produce at least one masterpiece; but none such exists. Here
and there are passages of such sturdy simplicity, so sincere and
pleasing, that they for a moment seem to lift the play out of a
dull and commonplace atmosphere into one of life and reality:
but there is not one genius of the first rank, not one play of
the quality of Macbeth or the Gidipus in all the enormous out-
put of the Middle Ages. One mystery is just about as good,
and just about as dull, as another. So poor did the plays be-
come that a celebrated French writer, Du Bellay, publicly
advocated the importation of Greek and Roman tragedy to
take the place of the native mysteries. There was none of that
struggling with the problems of life and destiny which marks
the tragedy of the Greeks; no attainment of an artificial but
beautiful conventional form, such as appeared in the No plays
of the Japanese; only an occasional naive touch, interesting
because of its spontaneous simplicity.

The dechne and disappearance of the biblical play. The

2 At Oberammergau, every tenth year.F. Bruckmann Ltd., Munich

Copyr.

Official Photograph 1910:

Apostles

Jesus and the

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next phase of the sacred play is just what might be expected,
namely, its condemnation by the Church under whose protec-
tion it had risen. It was condemned, however, not only by
the Church. The time came when the hollowness, the absence
of all religious feeling, made the performance a disgrace and
a scandal. A pious habit had became a conventionalized and
empty show. Both Romanists and Protestants ultimately
frowned upon the mysteries, and denounced them for their
childishness and coarseness. The guilds, which had once gladly
given time and money for their preparation, now felt the
yearly tax a burden. The cycle of sacred drama had run its
course. In France, performances were forbidden during the
latter part of the sixteenth century. In Spain and in Catholic
Germany, as well as in Italy, they persisted somewhat longer.
In England they were forbidden by Henry VIII, but were re-
stored again for a brief time under Mary. There were few
performances after 1600. The last York play was in 1597,
the last Newcastle play in 1589. The Chester plays died out
with the sixteenth century. The most important result of all
this dramatic activity was perhaps the fostering of a love for
the theater, and the shaping of native material into rough
dramatic form.

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MORALITIES, INTERLUDES AND FARCES OF
THE MIDDLE AGES

Twelfth-night had come and gone, and life next morning seemed
a trifle flat and purposeless. But yester-eve and the mummers
were here! They had come striding into the old kitchen, powder-
ing the red brick floor with snow from their barbaric bedizen-
ments; and stamping, and crossing, and declaiming, till all was riot
and shout.—KENNETH GRAHAME, The Golden Age.

The sacred plays of the Middle Ages often contained farci-
cal, irreverent, and even lewd situations, while the so-called
secular plays frequently carried with them some degree of
sermonizing. The distinction between comedy and tragedy, so
marked in classical plays, was forgotten. In the day of Hans
Sachs if a play had a fight in it, it was tragedy. No fight, no
tragedy.

The morality. The play nearest to the mystery in manner
of production, costumes, and general tone was the morality,
which might almost be classed as a religious play. In the age-
long attempt to portray the dual nature of Man, in whom good
and evil perpetually fight for supremacy, the playwrights
lighted on the allegorical method. They conceived the different
desires and appetites of Man as personalities, named them
Greed, Pride, Vanity, Good Will, Patience, and the like, and
caused them to weave their plots so as to capture the soul of
the hero, who was called Everyman, Humanum Genus, or Man.
Besides the personified desires, there were also in most plays
other characters such as the Doctor, the Priest, or a public
officer. God and the Devil were usually present.

The first English morality of which there is record was on
the subject of the Lord’s Prayer, and was given at York some-
time during the fourteenth century. It is now lost, but it made

138FARCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES 139

so profound an impression upon the spectators that a company
was immediately formed for the purpose of providing frequent
and regular performances. At the end of the fourteenth cen-
tury the company numbered one hundred members and their
wives.

The earliest extant morality in English is The Castle of
Perseverance, which belongs to the fifteenth century. In it
the whole life of Man, called Humanum Genus, is portrayed
from birth to death. There are two other very early English
moralities, one entitled Spirit, Will and Understanding, the
other Humanity. By their very nature, the moralities were all
obliged to use the same or similar abstractions for their alle-
gories; but a French writer, Nicolas de la Chesnaye, was in-
ventive enough to make a slight variation. His play is called
The Condemnation of Banquets, and is nothing less than a
tract on temperance in both eating and drinking. It is very
long, having more than 3,600 lines and employing thirty-nine
characters. By far the most interesting extant morality is
Everyman, ascribed by many scholars to the Dutch Dorlandus.
It appeared in English translation four times between 1493 and
1530, and opens with these lines: ““Here beginneth a treatise
how the High Father of Heaven sendeth Death to summon
every creature to come and give an account of their lives in this
world, and is in manner of a moral play.”

Even from the first, the morality was nearly always sprawl-
ing in construction and long-winded. Moreover, all advance in
dramatic conception has been towards the concrete rather than
the abstract ; so it would seem that the allegorical manner was
a turn in the wrong direction. On the other hand, such fables
were popular and quickly understood; and the abstract
qualities, personified by living actors, took upon themselves
something of the nature of reality. Furthermore, the morali-
ties mark the end of the biblical cycle of drama, and, with the
interludes, form the link between the medieval and the modern
play. In them can be recognized the seeds of the romantic and

1 Everyman was produced in London and New York early in this cen-
tury, the chief part being acted with extraordinary skill and perfection
by Miss Edith Wynne Mathison.140 MORALITIES, INTERLUDES AND

later schools. The habit of using qualities for names is a stock
device of comedy, and has long persisted, the Mrs. Sneerwell
and Mrs. Backbite of Sheridan being a direct continuation of
the tribe of Greed and Vanity.

Varieties of medieval secular plays. Coexistent with bibli-
cal plays and the moralities, there grew up during the late
Middle Ages several kinds of plays of a more or less secular
nature. In a rough classification we discover the following
branches:

Carnival or Shrovetide plays

Interludes

Farces

Puppet shows

“Feasts” of various sorts, being travesties
of Church rituals.

Some of these types are as ancient as the sacred play, while
others developed from it. There are naturally no hard and fast
lines between the groups; but the existence of such a variety
of forms proves anew the enormous appetite for theatrical
entertainment in the late Middle Ages.

In these secular plays there were, generally speaking, four
classes of performers: strolling players (successors of the
ancient mimes and pantomimic actors); roystering citizens
out for revel; the Fool companies; and people connected with
the schools and universities. The first of these were what
might be called professional performers. They belonged to the
lowest stratum of society and were classed as vagabonds. Be-
sides keeping alive the ancient Roman skits, they probably
picked up for their own use such contemporaneous pieces as
served their purpose. They were often jugglers, acrobats, min-
strels and magicians as well as actors. No doubt it is due to
this class that certain stock comic situations and “business”
have been handed down in an unbroken tradition from early
Roman days.

The second group of actors was composed of ordinary citi-
zens, merchants, petty officers, journeymen and the like, who
banded themselves together during carnival season for pur-FARCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES 141

poses of revelry and mumming. The third class, the Fool
companies, consisted of bands of youths—a sort of under-
ground clique—sometimes organized under a secret code, whose
chief business it was to play gross comedies and to execute
nonsensical and often ribald travesties on the Mass. These
companies existed all over Europe and England, and gained
immunity for their ribaldry by their popularity, their anonym-
ity, and their audacity. Mantzius says: “They satirized the
Mass, turned the church into a ballroom, and the altar into a
bar.” These boisterous ‘Feasts’ antedate most of the mys-
teries, and may have been reverent in their origin. Rem-
nants of pagan ceremonies seem to be embedded in their rites.
Theophylact, Patriarch of Constantinople in 990, ordered the
Feast of Fools and the Feast of the Ass, with other “religious
farces,” to be played in the Greek Church. In France one
group of these youthful mummers was called Enfants sans
souci, another the Société des Sottes, still another La Bazoche
du Palais. The fourth group was composed of school and
choir boys, with an admixture of university men. These
would naturally give their attention to plays of a more schol-
arly nature, imitations of Seneca and Terence, dramatic exer-
cises in Latin, and adaptations more closely allied to the classic
stage.

Shrovetide plays. It is likely that the Shrovetide or carnival
mummers were in many cases the same people who partici-
pated in the mysteries. Sometimes the same stage was used
both for the sacred play and the farce, which were often given
in immediate succession, with the same audience sitting through
both performances. The Shrovetide plays—also called inter-
ludes, sotties, Fastnachtsspiele—for some centuries made a
specialty not only of the comic, but of the indecent aspects of
society. The fables, found upon the lips of the Crusaders
and Spanish Moors, in the pages of French fabliaux, in the
novelle of the Italian Renaissance—had become current
throughout Europe. We must allow, of course, for a dif-
ference of standard in language and manners; but even grant-
ing all that, one can but grimace at the nastiness of many of
these so-called comic plays.

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Sex and digestion were the two subjects which particularly
excited the mirth of these lovers of medieval farces. In plays
on the first topic, the joke usually turned on the deceived hus-
band, who, to the medieval mind, was always a ludicrous
object. The other unfailing source of comedy was even more
intimate—the vicissitudes, distresses, and experiences accom-
panying digestion. Mantzius says that the subject of sex was
peculiarly Gallic, while that pertaining to digestion was typi-
cally Teutonic. Both themes were bandied about all over
Europe to the last shred of vulgarity.

At its best, however, the humor of the secular plays is naive
and diverting. The farce of Mak the Sheep Stealer may have
been taken from the French; but as we have it, it forms an
interlude in the second Shepherd play of the Towneley cycle.
The French farce of The Wash Tub introduces the henpecked
husband whose wit, combined with his wife’s misfortunes,
restores him to his masculine prestige. The most famous of
all the medieval farces, Pierre Pathelin, is entirely innocent,
without vulgarity of any sort, and has a well rounded plot.
It is fairly long, consisting of about 1600 lines; and like all
medieval pieces was played through without intermission. Its
author is unknown; but it is of French origin, and was played
by the Fraternity of the Bazoche in 1480. It was immensely
popular in its day, going through six different editions in the
fifteenth century, and no less than twenty-four in the six-
teenth. In the eighteenth century it was adapted for use in
the repertory of the Théatre Frangais, and restored to a form
much nearer the original in 1872. It was also used as the
libretto for a comic opera by Bazin.

These farces picture authentic types of character, and have
comedy situations which were native to the participants, not
borrowed from Greece or Rome. They smack of the soil and
carry on the true dramatic tradition. The Brotherhood of the
Passion gave a play in the fifteenth century on the subject of
Griselda, a story which came through the Moors from Spain,
was part of the Italian stock of tales, and was used by Chaucer
and Spenser. An English sixteenth century play is still in
existence, with Friar Tuck, Little John, and all the otherFARCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES 143

characters of the’ immortal Robin Hood legend. The story
goes that Bishop Latimer’s own church was closed on a festal
day, because all the congregation had gone to see Robin Hood.

Hans Sachs. 1494-1576. The name of Hans Sachs should
be placed in an honorable niche with the writers of early secu-
lar plays. He touched upon more subjects, had more wit
and charm, and developed a better technique than any other
play-maker of his time. He lived as an honored and dis-
tinquished citizen of Nuremberg, following the trade of shoe-
maker and at the same time producing plays, songs, poems and
other works to the number of more than six thousand sep-
arate pieces. Of these, about two hundred are in dramatic
form—tragedies, comedies, Shrovetide pieces, or simple dia-
logues to which he gave no name. He was at his best in the
Shrovetide piece which, under his hand, changed from a form-
less dialogue to an entertaining, well constructed, merry and
wholesome little play. It was seldom more than four hundred
lines, and nearly always inculcated some lesson in morals or
manners.

The interlude.? The interlude was usually a short, humorous
piece, suited for two or three, scarcely ever more than four,
actors; and it was, par excellence, the banquet entertainment.
Occasionally it was used as a comic diversion between the more
serious parts of a sacred play; or as one of the features of
medieval vaudeville in a program of juggling acts, necromancy,
and wrestling. Gradually the interlude acquired a courtly
character; but it was also employed, during the period of
religious strife, as a means of propaganda. It was essentially
witty and full of action. A fragment of a very early inter-
lude exists, called Interlude de Clerico et Puella, probably
belonging to the reign of the first Edward. It is written in
dialect, and requires three actors and a puppy. There is no
prologue or explanation; but the characters begin at once,
Clericus making immediate love to Puella. In the fourteenth
century the Society of Parish Clerks, which enjoyed consid-
erable renown in medieval London, played interludes before
King Richard, his queen and court. Nicholas Udall and John

? The interlude is more fully treated in Chapter XXI.144 FARCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES

Bale, both of whom belong to the sixteenth century, wrote
religious and political interludes. The most famous of all the
writers of this species of play is John Heyvrood (1497-1580)
under whose hand the form became satirical and entertaining.
He discarded rustic and biblical subjects, also subjects of con-
troversy, and turned towards Chaucer and the French fables
for his themes. With him the medieval secular play changed
almost imperceptibly into the English realistic comedy of the
Elizabethan age.

Historical, legendary, and puppet plays. There are a few
extant plays, generally called mysteries, which are based on
non-biblical stories. Two of these are French and have for
themes, respectively, the Fall of Troy and the story of Joan
of Arc. They were evidently meant for gigantic spectacles,
and seem to foreshadow the chronicle play. It is recorded
that, in these plays, from three hundred to five hundred people
were on the stage at one time.

The puppet show (also called “motions’”) developed in its
humble way side by side with the more pretentious types of
drama. Dumb shows, which were pantomimic performances
with either living actors or puppets, were performed in Flor-
ence early in the fourteenth century, and spread over Europe
and into England in the fifteenth. Old stories of cheating
merchants, devils in disguise, and of Noah’s Ark were stand-
bys in the way of fables. A letter from Bath, mentioned in
the Tatler, relates the appearance of a puppet show featuring
Alexander the Great as hero. At Bartholomew Fair in the
reign of Queen Anne, a performance of the Creation and
Flood was followed by a puppet show called Punch and Sir
John Spendall. In it Punch beat his wife, insulted the priest,
was frightened by a ghost and was finally carried off to hell.SECTION FIVE
THE GROWTH OF NATIONAL DRAMASe peer

een aera eaeCHAPTER XVII
NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

Benvenuto Cellini, in his autobiography, presents a graphic pic-
ture of the times. ... He and the Italians of his century killed
their rivals in the streets by day; they girded on their daggers
when they went into a court of justice; they sickened to the death
with disappointed vengeance or unhappy love; they dragged a
faithless mistress by the hair about their rooms; they murdered
an adulterous wife with their own hands, and hired assassins to
pursue her paramour; lying for months in prison, unaccused or
uncondemned, in daily dread of poison, they read the Bible and
the sermons of Savonarola, and made their dungeons echo with
psalm singing. ... The wildest passions, the grossest supersti-
tions, the most fervent faith, the coldest cynicism, the gravest
learning, the darkest lust, the most delicate sense of beauty, met
in the same persons, and were fused into one glittering human-
ity—J. ADDINGTON SyMmonps, The Renaissance in Italy.

The national dramas of Europe grew upon the ashes of the
miracles and mysteries. As the biblical plays lost their hold
upon the public and gradually disappeared, there swept over
Europe that liberating movement called the Renaissance, whose
most vigorous phases fell in the fourteenth and fifteenth cen-
turies. One of its features was the rediscovery of the ancient
literatures, which brought to light the plays of the Greeks and
Romans. While there was probably no century during the so-
called Dark Ages in which an ancient play was not read and
possibly imitated, nevertheless it is not more than truth to say
that the literary treasures of the antique world had practically
been lost. Many of them were actually lost, for all time.
Manuscripts that were known were not easy of access, owing
to the difficulties of travel and the vicissitudes of war. Few
scholars knew the Greek language. It seems as if, indeed, all

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intellectual curiosity concerning the past had lain quiescent for
centuries.

The rediscovery of the ancient plays. When men at last
turned to the writings of the ancients, it happened that, among
the dramatists, Plautus, Terence and Seneca were the first to
be recovered; and the recovery was made in Italy. It was
natural, therefore, that the “new” drama should begin there.
The plays of Seneca were studied and imitated by the historian
Mussato of Padua in 1300; and though his compositions were
dry and dull, yet they encouraged among scholars the fashion
of imitating the ancients. In 1427 twelve “lost” plays of
Plautus were found through the efforts of the famous Braccio-
lini Poggio, who recovered many classic works which had been
hidden and forgotten in the monasteries. Gradually there was
established a practice of giving the ancient plays, first in Latin,
later in translation. In 1486 the Mena@chmi of Plautus was
given at Ferrara, and again in 1502 at the Vatican. At the
marriage of Lucrezia Borgia and the Duke of Ferrara there
was a five-day festival, the chief feature of each evening being
the presentation of one of the Plautine comedies. One of the
actors of the time gained the nickname of Pheedra by his bril-
liant acting of that rdle in the Hippolytus of Seneca.

Italy, artistically in advance of other sections of the con-
tinent, was a whole century ahead of England in respect to
the stage. By the time the last mystery had been given at
Canterbury, there was a well established drama of another sort
in the southern peninsula, where the Roman plays took prece-
dence over the Greek, and were regarded as models of excel-
lence in all things pertaining to the theater. In contrast to the
unpolished biblical plays, they indeed represented design,
scholarship, and the pomp of courtly settings. The practices of
Terence and Seneca were elevated into rules. The law of the
three unities was revived, and the mythological subjects
brought forth again for rejuvenation, together with other para-
phernalia of the classic drama—chorus, fate motives, long
speeches, Messenger and all.

Tragedy. The domination of the antique models was most
apparent in the Italian tragedies, which were at first written inNATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700 149

Latin. When the playwrights were at length forced to turn
to the vernacular, they used the octave (eight-line stanza) or
terza rima* forms of verse, neither of which lends itself suc-
cessfully to dialogue. A great advance, however, was made
by Gian Giorgio Trissino, who had the good luck to live in
the first half of the sixteenth century during the pontificate
of Leo X, a prelate who loved splendid and costly theatricals.
Trissino was influenced not only by Seneca, but also by Eurip-
ides and Sophocles. In a tragedy called Sofonisba he dis-
carded the terza rima for blank verse, kept the chorus and used
it to divide the action, as in the ancient manner. The story,?
found in Livy, was well constructed and rather an advance
upon the Italian products of the time. Other writers followed
the example of Trissino and sought their material in classic
pages. A tragedy on the subject of Orestes was written by
Rucellai in imitation of the Iphigenia in Tauris by Euripides ;
and another writer, Alemanni, made a brilliant translation of
the Antigone of Sophocles.

These plays and others similar to them were produced in a
spectacular and costly style before dukes, princes and car-
dinals, with special scenery and music. Their composers, how-
ever, leaned too heavily towards the pompous, the rhetorical,
and the stilted. The works exhibited nearly every possible
dramatic fault: long monologues, confidential talks for the
obvious purpose of informing the audience about something
that ought to have been displayed by means of action; dry ser-
mons from the chorus; off-stage action, and passages full of
windy elocution. They had the classic form and labored with
the classic subjects; but they lacked the classic inspiration.

Comedy. There was a much more luxuriant growth of
comedy than of tragedy after the rediscovery of the ancient
drama. The polished and witty courts were eager for enter-
tainment, and under their patronage there developed an
enormous body of social comedy as polished and witty as
themselves. A few years before the appearance of Sofonisba

1 The rhyme-scheme of the terza rima isaba,bcb,c de, ete.
2 Used frequently by subsequent playwrights and librettists.150 NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

a writer named Dovizio produced a farcical comedy, founded
upon the Menechmi of Plautus, called» Calandra. Though
fairly obscene, it was brilliant and dramatically effective.
While keeping to the general outlines of the Plautine play, the
author instilled into it a contemporary life and spirit which
immediately appealed to his audience. The male twins were
changed under the Italian hand into a boy and girl, thus adding
to the piquancy and subtracting from the modesty of the
scenes. The play was produced in turn in all the courts of
Italy, and was especially enjoyed by Pope Leo X. The
author was thenceforth known as Cardinal Bibbiena.

The success of Calandra was equalled many times during
the following two hundred years. Nearly five thousand plays
from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries are known to
scholars. They are similar to one another, devoted to trivi-
alities, indecencies, and delineations of illicit love intrigues.
To us they are as monotonous as the second class musical
comedies of our own day, and far more appalling in their
depravity. The love theme which starts the action is never
the romantic love which carries youth, and sometimes middle
age, off its feet and fills it with generous and poetic enthu-
siasms; it was rather the commercial connection, of a routine
sort, with which fashionable young men were accustomed to
occupy their time.

Stock situations and characters. The Italian playwright took
over, in a way, both the situations and the characters of Roman
comedy, changing them superficially to suit the conditions of
Florentine, Neapolitan, or Venetian circumstances. The cen-
tral figure, the chief young lover, is usually poor or in debt, and
wishes to advance his fortune either by a rich marriage, or
by seducing the wife of a rich neighbor. Or perhaps, in his
need for money, he blackmails some one with whose indis-
cretions he is acquainted; or, again, he is married to two
women at the same time and needs the services of a rascally
parasite or slave to get him out of his trouble. There are no
heroines or heroes: none who risk danger for a worthy or
generous purpose, such as had appeared in the classic drama,
and were to appear so abundantly in the later romantic playsNATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700 151

of Europe. There are only central characters, and there is
always a disagreeable joke on somebody: either a deceived
husband, a rustic or simpleton, an unsuspecting father or
master, or the old love being displaced by the new. The
scheming, plotting and rascality which constitute the action are
the work of the comic servant, who has license, audacity, and
the spot-light.

Machiavelli. 1469-1527. The most famous names of this
period are Machiavelli, Ariosto, and Aretino. Machiavelli left
two comedies, Mandragola and Clizia, both founded on plots
from Plautus, with strongly conceived characters, amusing
dialogue, and effective scenes. If any doubt about the truth
of Cellini’s description of Italian society should rise, a reading
of Mandragola, Clizia, or Calandra would dispel it. How-
ever, the deep-seated depravity of Mandragola is far removed
from the coarse, hearty ribaldry of the medieval plays. The
whole tissue of society, as Machiavelli and others of his school
conceived it, was a network of selfishness, vice, and greed.
The assumption was that all men and women are mean and
full of vicious desires, which they will gratify at any cost of
truth, honor, or kindness; the only difference in people is the
finesse and cunning with which they are endowed.

Concerning the women of these plays Symonds says:

“ce

. . the girls were corrupted by nurses, exposed to the con-
taminating influences of the convent, courted by grooms and ser-
vants in their father’s household, tampered with by infamous
duennas, betrayed by their own mothers. They accept the first
husband that is proposed to them, confident in the hope of con-
tinuing clandestine intrigues with the neighbor’s son who has se-
duced them. . . .”

He gives no less scathing a description of the male youth ;
and he adds significantly: “From the innumerable scenes de-
voted to these elegant and witty scapegraces, it would be diffi-
cult to glean a single sentence expressive of conscience, re-
morse, sense of loyalty, or generous feeling.”

Ariosto. 1474-1533. Five comedies remain from Ariosto,
four of which turn on the rascally tricks of a servant who is152 NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

trying to get money for his master’s love intrigues. The fifth
is concerned with the devices by which this same servant man-
ages to keep his master in favor with two wives at the same
time. These plays show a deal of invention, and are written
in brilliant style. The Suppositi,* built upon the Menwchmi,
became in turn the basis for the Comedy of Errors of Shake-
speare. It is said that Pope Leo built a new theater in Rome,
seating two thousand people, for the express purpose of pro-
ducing the Suppositi. The scenery was painted by Raphael.
On the day of the performance, Leo sat at the entrance and
gave his blessing to all whom he thought worthy of witnessing
it.

Aretino. 1492-1556. The list of comedy writers from this
period embraces some of the most celebrated names of that
brilliant but decadent time. There are Ficenzuila, Cecchi,
Gelli, Ambra, Il Lasca, Doni, Dolce. In Peter Aretino the
type reached its most shining and most disgraceful example.
He made a boast of his immorality and profligacy, and these
traits were amply reflected in his work. He flattered kings
and princes, attacked his enemies with caustic indecency, and
also wrote with great unction upon devotional subjects. He
had wit and audacity, combined with a low mind, and the
sneaking courage of a back-stairs adventurer. For his scur-
rilous attacks a nobleman tried to kill him with a stiletto, and
lamed him for life; another vowed to kill him in bed, and
actually kept him for months a prisoner in his house; and
Tintoretto, one of the most famous painters of his time, pre-
tended ignorance, got him to sit for his portrait, and then
faced him with a pistol. In spite of all this, he was the favored
darling of his time, the friend of two popes, of Charles V and
Francis I, and at his death was about to become a cardinal
of the Church.

The kidnapping school of comedy. One of the ever pres-
ent features of Italian comedy was a child kidnapped by the
Turks, and restored to its home just at the fall of the curtain.
The parents, generally wealthy and noble, recognized their

8 Literally, The Substitutions, sometimes incorrectly called The Sup-
poses.NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700 153

offspring by a necklace, ring, or birthmark. This fable, of
course, goes back to early folk lore, was used by the Greek
comedy writers, and by Plautus, as well as by the Italians.

Even while these comedies were flourishing, during the six-
teenth century, there were not lacking critics who began to
scoff at such childish theatrical tricks. Il Lasca (whose real
name was Grazzini), a dramatist of some note, was sincere in
his scorn. In his Prologue to The Jealous One, he Says:

“All the comedies which have been exhibited in Florence since
the siege end in discoveries of lost relatives. This has become so
irksome to the audience that, when they hear in the argument how,
at the taking of this city or the sack of that, children have been
lost or kidnapped, they know only too well what is coming, and
would fain leave the room. . . . They lay their scenes in modern
cities and depict the manners of today, but foist in obsolete cus-
toms and habits of remote antiquity. They excuse themselves by
saying Plautus did this, and this was Menander’s way and Ter-
ence’s; never perceiving that in Florence, Pisa and Lucca people
do not live as they did in Rome or Athens. For heaven’s sake,
let these fellows take to translation, if they have no vein of in-
vention, but leave off cobbling and spoiling the property of others
and their own... .”

The Commedia deil’ Arte. The title, Comedy of Art, means
unwritten or improvised drama, and applies rather to the man-
ner of performance than to the subject matter of a play. This
peculiar species had a long life in Italy, probably of about four
hundred years (from the fourteenth to the eighteenth century ) ;
but it flourished especially in the sixteenth and seventeenth cen-
turies. Of course in actual practice the play was not, in any
sense, the result of the moment’s inspiration. The subject was
chosen, the characters conceived and named, their relations to
one another determined, and the situations clearly outlined, all
beforehand. The material was divided into acts and scenes,
with a prologue. The situations were made clear, together
with the turn of action and the outcome of each scene. When
this general outline (called also scenario, or canvas) was satis-
factorily filled out there was left an opportunity for actors to
heighten, vary, and embellish their parts as their genius might154 NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

suggest. The necessity for smoothness, constant surprise,
clearness, and wit called forth histrionic abilities which had
been unknown to the medieval stage. “The actors had to
find the proper words to make the tears flow or the laughter
ring; they had to catch the sallies of their fellow-actors on the
wing, and return them with prompt repartee. The dialogue
must go like a merry game of ball or spirited sword-play, with
ease and without a pause.” * Such parts required actors able
to make a serious study of their parts; actors who took pride in
their achievements, and were willing to accept the discipline
which all professional art demands. These comedians changed
forever the standards of acting. The best of them stamped
their parts with individuality, freshness and brilliance, and
gave value to pieces which, often enough, were otherwise
worthless. The Comedy of Art introduced the professional
actor into Europe.

Subjects of the Comedy of Art. Like the court comedies
of Ariosto and Machiavelli, the Comedy of Art was concerned
mostly with disgraceful love intrigues, clever tricks to get
money or to outwit some simpleton. There were the same long-
lost children stolen by the Turks, the same plotting maids,
bragging captains, aged fathers and wily widows. Each gen-
tleman had his parasite, each woman her confidante. There
was considerable diversity of incident, such as night scenes, in
which the hero was mistaken for the villain; cases where
father and son fall in love with the same girl; and risque situ-
ations—the representation of fire, shipwreck, and the like
which served as a pretext for allowing actresses to appear
naked on the stage.

Comic relief. An important part of every play, given always
to the most expert and popular actors, were the humorous in-
terruptions, called Jazzi, which often had nothing to do with the
play itself. It might be clever pantomimic acting, acrobatic
feats, juggling, or wrestling. For example, three characters
meet at a cook shop, where they hear of an accident which has
befallen the wife of one of them. While they express their
dismay at the affliction, they fall to eating greedily from a

4Mantzius, History of the Theatrical Art.NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700 155

huge dish of macaroni; and as they eat, tears stream down their
faces. Or again, a servant, disgusted at an order his master
has given him, delays carrying it out until he has turned a
complete somersault. One famous actor could execute this
trick having a full glass of wine in his hand, without spilling
a drop. Another was able, in his eighty-third year, to box the
ear of a fellow servant with his foot. Elaborate imitations
of women taking off their stays, false hair, and crinolines were
always acceptable, together with many pantomimic diversions
of a less innocent character. These are examples of the lazzi
of the Comedy of Art.

The masks. In the course of the development of the Comedy
of Art, there grew up certain traditions which held fast for
many years. The rascally servant, the old man, the lady’s
maid, and the like—stock characters which appeared in every
play—always wore a conventional dress, with masks. In gen-
eral these masks may be classed under four or five groups:
Pantalone and the Doctor, both old men; the Captain, a young
man of adventure; the valet or jester, usually called Zanni;
the hunchback Punchinello; and another old man, somewhat
different from the first two.

Pantalone was usually a shop-keeper from Vienna, somewhat
stupid, fond of food and of pretty women, talkative, gullible,
full of temper, the butt of all the jokes—some of them very
indecent—yet forgiving in the end. His business was to get
deceived by his young wife, or his son, or his servant. The
second old man, the Doctor, filled the part of a lawyer, an
astrologer, or perhaps a philosopher from Bologna. Sometimes
he represented an absent-minded pedant, quoting Latin at in-
appropriate times, and enormously conceited. The bragging
Captain, a boasting, swashbuckling officer, often Spanish,
dressed-to-kill in cape, feathered hat, high boots, with sword
in belt, was always a prime favorite. He told extraordinary
tales about how he beat a whole army of Turks and carried
off the beard of the Sultan, but when there was a hint of real
danger he was the first to run away. He made love to the
none-too-innocent servant maid, and got thrashed by her Harle-
quin lover. This character, of course, is none other than the156 NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, called in Italy J] Capitano Spavento
della Valle Inferno, or simply Spavento. In time he gained a
choice variety of bombastic names in different countries: Capi-
tano Metamoros, Capitaine Fracasse, Captain Horribilicribili-
fax, Ralph Roister Doister, and Bobadil.

Zanni, the scoundrelly valet or jester, resembled the Greek
slave of the Middle and New Comedy. Most plays contained
several valets: one each for the Doctor, Pantalone, and the
primo amoroso. All were variations of the type of which
Pierrot and Harlequin are the most celebrated. They were
generally indolent and knavish, sometimes cunning and cruel;
always stupid in their own way, first deceiving others and then
being duped themselves. All made love to the servants, and
often imitated the love scenes of their masters in ridiculous
parody. Punchinello was a hunchback with a long crimson
nose, dressed in a dark cloak and wearing a three-cornered
cap. He too was a great rascal, but dry and less talkative than
Pantalone.

All these characters had costumes, stock gestures and stage
business which could be reckoned upon to create a laugh and
put the audience in tune for the knavery that was to follow.
In course of time there crystallized about each mask an entire
code or repertory of phrases, exclamations, curses, exits, epi-
grammatic sayings and soliloquies appropriate to the role,
which could be memorized and made to fill in the blank when
the actor’s wit could find nothing better. The primo amoroso,
the female lover, and the maid servant were not masked,
though they were thoroughly conventionalized. The male lover
was a perfumed scapegrace; while the girl, rarely well indi-
vidualized, stood simply as the helpless or ignorant foil for
the intrigue. The hero became known as Flavio, Leandro or
Valerio; the woman as Isabella, Lucinda, Leonora or Ardelia ;
while the maid servant was generally Columbine. The impor-
tance of these typical stage characters, which enjoyed at least
four centuries of popularity on the European boards, lies in
the influence which they exerted upon the superior dramatists
of a later time. Already one can catch a breath of the Shake-
spearean comedies in the names of the heroes; and one canNATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700 157

see that Moliére, both as actor and author, learned much from
this branch of Italian art. Its influence passed through Hol-
berg into Denmark, where it became a powerful factor in
shaping the romantic drama of a later age.

Pastoral drama. For some time during the late Middle
Ages, pastoral poems, eclogues, and stories of an ideal life in
some impossible country had a mild vogue. Niccola da Cor-
regio appeared with a play in which the chief characters were
a shepherd and shepherdess named Corydon and Thyrsis. A
writer named Beccari followed his example and improved
upon it; and in 1573 a pastoral play was written which not only
had pretty music and costumes, but also great literary beauty.
This play was Aminta, written by Torquato Tasso. It has
little action, and is too rhetorical and effeminate for the pas-
sion which makes effective stage action; but it is a beautiful
poem, graceful, delicate, and sympathetic. Such fine qualities,
appearing at the right moment, were destined to create a school.

One of the first followers of the celebrated Tasso was
Guarini, who in 1590 produced another pastoral play called
Pastor Fido. Obviously an imitation of Tasso, it was never-
theless good enough to stand on its own merits. It is less
beautiful than Aminta, but has more life. There is an elaborate
plot, with an intrigue, a mysterious prophecy, and a case of mis-
taken identity. The dialogue and characterizations are vigor-
ous. One scene begins with music and dancing, which sug-
gests the later development of opera. Pastor Fido had the
honor of being performed at Turin at the wedding ceremonies
of the Prince of Savoy.

Arcadia, the home of the pastoral play. Arcadia is the
realm of Art and Song, undisturbed by the troubles which
visit the ordinary homes of earth. There Love is master, and
the laws which rule are those of nature. Laws of society and
of man-made realms must be set aside if they conflict with
the laws of love. In this remote, imaginary pasture of beauty
lovers can live free from the cares and excitements of the gay
world. The shepherds are gifted with grace, faithfulness,
gaiety and song; the shepherdesses blessed with a correspond-
ing degree of loveliness, charm, and grace. Lyrics and lutes,158 NATIONAL DRAMA: ITALY TO 1700

running streams, panniered costumes and picnics de luxe
abound, while the tiresome laws, duties, and responsibilities
of the world are forgotten. Such are the illusions which the
pastoral plays, at their best, create.

The production of Aminta, however, might almost be con-
sidered one of the minor catastrophes in the history of litera-
ture, for the cult of the pastoral spread through the fashion-
able circles of Europe like a pestilence. Aminta and Pastor
Fido were the only plays of note that the Italian school pro-
duced; but the romantic contagion went from court to court
into Spain, France, England. The Arcadian idea seemed to
be the formula for a universal saccharine concoction, whose
delicate and cloying beauty for a time drove nearly every-
thing else from the stage. The plays grew more and more
insipid until they became almost a curse. In the endeavor to
keep them going, the playwriters enlivened the monotonous
rustic scenes with sly allusions to contemporary affairs: the
shepherdess became a local duchess or countess, but thinly
disguised ; and the shepherds were none too subtle replicas of
actual princes and courtiers. Fortunately, even the worst of
plagues must have an end; and the whole Arcadian species in
time degenerated into foolishness and burlesque.

Changing conditions. With the new types of plays, the per-
formers began to go under cover, into the halls of palaces or
monasteries. Nobles began to build theaters in their own
houses. In Nuremberg, Hans Sachs and his company gave
plays in the town hall. Moreover, at this time (the sixteenth
century), professional actors, practically for the first time in
European history, organized themselves into companies. Here
and there women actors appeared upon the stage. With the
establishment of professional companies there came a great
change in the conduct of the performances: for it followed as a
matter of course that they would sooner or later have houses
of their own, and would play, not for a certain stated festival,
but as often as they could secure patronage. Thus the pro-
duction of plays came in the course of time to be a private,
money-making enterprise.CHAPTER XVIII
NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

In Spain the dramatic revival declared itself earlier than in any
other country, with the possible exception of Italy; and declared
itself unequivocally in the form of romance. . . . In no people had
chivalry taken so firm a root; the point of honor was the very life
blood of the Spaniard; his very instincts had taken the ply of
fantasy and romance.—C, E. Vaucun, Types of Tragic Drama.

By the year 1500 Spain had come to the end of the long
contest with the Moors, which had lasted for more than seven
centuries. The enemy, leaving the country, bequeathed to the
Spanish a wealth of learning and culture. Though there was
no comedy, tragedy, pastoral play or farce among their literary
relics, yet there were many tales of magic, of passionate love,
and of oriental splendor. From the north came ideals of
chivalry and knighthood to mix with these oriental influences.
Troubadours from Provence crossed the Pyrenees, bringing
with them stories of tournaments, or of allegiance to some dif-
ficult trust, and of a holy Cup which was the quest of many
a knight. In her own right Spain was also rich in ballads,
which seem to flourish wherever drama is found. Good bal-
lads have concentration, directness of action, sharp characteri-
zation, and often a terse and pithy dialogue—all of which offer
a good basis for a play. Out of this blend of oriental fancy,
chivalric ideals, and gift of balladry came the remarkable
period of the romantic Spanish drama.

Classicism in Spain. Naturally the Italian influence towards
classicism was felt. A few pastoral and satiric plays in the
Italian style made their appearance; and one tragedy, Celes-
tine, or the Tragedy of Callisto and Melibea, had a brilliant
success as a piece of literature in the later fifteenth century.
It could scarcely have been enacted on any stage. It dealt with

159hy

160 NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

witches, love potions, and the like—elements which later were
to become the stock in trade of the romanticists. Spain’s
greatest genius, Cervantes, was for a time on the side of the
classicists. Following the example of Trissino in Italy, he
produced in 1583 a drama called Numancia, in classical dress;
and this play was succeeded by nearly a score of others in the
same manner.

The classic ideal, however, was not destined to dominate the
Spanish stage. About the middle of the sixteenth century a
gold-beater of Seville, named Lope de Rueda, became chief
actor, playwright and manager of a small band of strolling
players. He seems to have been much the same type of man
as Hans Sachs of Nuremberg, full of homely sense, humor,
gaiety, and possessed of a natural, easy style. In his plays he
pictured the people he knew, hitting them off with good-natured
shrewdness. Cervantes regarded Rueda as the real founder
of the national drama in Spain.

Lope de Vega. 1562-1635. When Cervantes produced his
pseudo-classical tragedy, Numancia, Lope de Vega was twenty-
three years old. He was born two years before Shakespeare,
in the family of a poverty-stricken nobleman, and lived to be
seventy-three years old, devoting most of his mature life to
the writing of poetry and drama. Both as a writer and as a
citizen, he received extraordinary honors. His plays brought
him wealth and renown; admiring crowds followed him when-
ever he left his house. He was called the Spanish Phoenix,
and Prodigy of Nature. Good days and good women were
called Lope days and Lope women. When he died, only the
memory of his pomp and generosity towards the poor was
left; there was no vestige of his large fortune. His funeral
was observed like that of a king, with three bishops to officiate,
and a three-day period of mourning for the city.

The phenomenon of Lope’s dramatic output remains one of
the wonders of literary history. He wrote twenty-two hundred
plays, besides a sufficient number of poems to fill twenty-one
volumes quarto. It is said that he could write a play, full of
captivating incident, fresh versification and humor, in a day,
and that no amantensis could keep up with his dictation. So

ee Sere Sea ae ot
aNATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700 161

eager were the managers, that he was allowed no time for
correction or revision. His plays are of many sorts: love
stories, plays of adventure, farces, scenes from society, moral-
izing pieces, tragedies, and sacred plays (autos sacramentales).
He was not, of course, uniformly good in all these species of
writing; two of his plays are notorious as being the worst
tragedies ever written.

Lope’s plays. For convenience, four classes of plays may
be indicated. First, there are the “dramas of the cloak and
sword,” dealing with a high-spirited gallant who goes through
many adventures in order to win the lady of his love. This
type of play usually contains an underplot carried on by ser-
vants and other minor characters. A second class, similar to
the first, is occupied with historical or semi-historical figures
of a more heroic cast than those of the first group. These plays
too are full of intrigues and adventures, with underplots which
parody the principal one. Whatever the main theme, there is
sure to be much ado about the “point of honor,” with jealous
quarrels, misunderstandings, and tempers on the trigger. A
few dramas of social life constitute a third class. They por-
tray rather intimately the manners, customs and thoughts of
the time, but are not concerned exclusively with polite society,
as are the contemporaneous Italian works.

These three groups would probably have included all of
Lope’s dramatic writings had not Philip II, on his death-bed,
forbidden the representation of all secular plays for an indefi-
nite time within his kingdom. The order remained in force
two or three years. During that time Lope turned his atten-
tion to the autos, investing them with the same glamour as that
which had surrounded his secular plays. The pious deeds per-
formed by one of his saints became as interesting as the ad-
ventures of one of his buccaneers or swashbucklers. His sa-
cred plays were a mixture of the grotesque, of fine poetic fer-
vor, lively images, entertaining incidents, sincere Catholic piety,
and a good knowledge of character. They were played on the
street on Corpus Christi day, being preceded by a farce. They
became famous throughout the country, and were performed by
actors before taking the sacrament.162 NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

Characteristics of Lope’s work. Of all European countries,
Spain was least influenced by the Renaissance and most deeply
averse to any reforms in religion; and Lope was, in a peculiar
sense, representative of his country. His was nearest the
medieval mind, farthest from that of reawakening Europe. At
the same time, his plays give us the first important examples
of what is known as romantic drama. He was either uncon-
scious of, or ignored, the classic tradition; he had no interest
in the three unities, no use for the Messenger, for long solilo-
quies, for the exalted personages so dear to the classic drama-
tist, or for the carefully designed plot. He built his plays out
of Spanish material, using folk lore, ballads, history or legend,
always with native characters. His genius was many-sided ;
with immense fertility he unfolded scenes of lively action, in-
vented countless entertaining and thoroughly dramatic situa-
tions; he was master of brisk dialogue, pleasant versification,
humor and vivacity. He adopted outlaws as heroes, mixed to-
gether the sacred and farcical, and cared little for probabili-
ties or for historical accuracy; but his energy and contagious
vitality carried all before him.

It was Lope de Vega who, above all others, gave the shape
and stamp to modern European drama. His tendency was to
emphasize the individual, to exhibit strange phases of passion,
ambition, or hatred. If we do not today read or see Lope’s
plays in their original dress, we nevertheless have seen their
descendants; for the European world has for four centuries
enjoyed many an entertainment based upon situations that came
from his brain. The Italians of the seventeenth century, the
French writers preceding and including Voltaire, the early
Elizabethans, and that great pair, Shakespeare and Moliere—
all borrowed and learned from him. Professor Matthews says:
“, . the dramatists of every modern language are greatly in-
debted to the models set by Lope de Vega,—and none the less
because most of these later writers are unconscious of their
obligation. Nowhere has modern dramatic craftsmanship been
carried to a higher pitch of perfection than in France; and it
must never be forgotten that ‘The Cid, the first of French
tragedies, and ‘The Liar,’ the first of French comedies, wereNATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700 163

both of them borrowed by Corneille from Spanish plays writ-
ten by contemporary disciples of Lope de Vega.”

Influence of Lope de Vega outside of Spain. It would be
difficult to enumerate all the instances in which dramatists of
other countries drew either upon Lope de Vega or upon one
of his followers, but here are a few examples:

Spanish author Play Borrowing Play
author
Agustin El valiente jus- | Moliére L’Ecole des maris
Moreto ticiero
Agustin de Za- (two plays) Moliére Les femmes _ sa-
rate vantes
Les précieuses ridi-
cules
Tirso de Molina Moliére Don Juan
Fernando de Rotrou Venceslas
Rojas
Fernando de | Celestina Corneille Don Bertram de
Rojas Cigarral
Juan Ruiz de | La Verdad sos- | Corneille Le Menteur
Alarcon: y pechosa
Mendoza
Lope de Vega El Acero de | Moliére Le Médicin malgré
Madrid lui
Guillén de Cas- | Las Mocedades | Corneille Le Cid
tro del Cid
Lope de Vega El Conquista | Voltaire Alzire
d’Arauco
Lope de Vega El Palacio con- | Corneille Don Sanche d’Ara-
fuso gon

The enumeration of the indebtedness of these non-Spanish
writers to Lope and his school is in no sense a deprecation of
the borrowers; all dramatists everywhere have used old ma-
terial; it is meant only as an indication of the extraordinary
fertility of the genius of Lope de Vega. When he began to
write, the drama was an insignificant and vulgar art, with but164 NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

two poor playhouses in the city of Madrid; when he died, the
theater had become an important institution. Less than fifty
years after his death there were forty playhouses in the capi-
tal, and the conduct of the drama was a subject not only of
royal but of national consideration. At least thirty talented
Spanish playwrights flourished during his time or immediately
after. The love of the theater spread rapidly until almost
every little town had its playhouse. The skill of professional
actors increased, buildings improved, scenery appeared on the
stage, and mechanical devices for working wonders were in-
vented or rediscovered.

Calderén de la Barca. 1600-1681. We have now come to
the beginning of a period when the dramatist did not hesitate
to attempt both comedy and tragedy. Calderdén, the second of
the two outstanding figures in the Spanish drama, was a writer
of both species, but was far greater in tragedy than in comedy.
Like Lope, he wrought with native literary material and for
the most part disregarded classical models. He did not create
new forms, or make any striking departure from the style and
standards set by Lope. He was hazy in regard to history and
geography. In his youth he was counted a prodigy of talent;
and upon the death of Lope, which occurred when Calderén
was thirty-five years of age, he was officially appointed the
writer of dramas for the royal theaters and for the Church.
He became formally attached to the court, somewhat in the
position of a poet laureate. After some years he withdrew
from the court and entered a religious brotherhood; but he
continued throughout his life to write for the theater.

The plays of Calderén. Of the many pieces which were at
one time or another attributed to Calderén, one hundred and
eight dramas and seventy-three autos sacramentales are au-
thentic. The dramas are of many varieties, though always ro-
mantic. He threw his sword-and-cloak heroes into one diffi-
culty after another, handled supernatural and ghostly themes
in a masterly fashion, and was also able to write scenes of grim
humor. His plots are unfailingly interesting, even though, to
the modern mind, some of them are absurd. He was thor-
oughly medieval and devoutly Catholic in his point of view.NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700 165

The Devotion to the Cross, written when the author was nine-
teen, portrays the instantaneous redemption of a revolting
criminal through his death-bed appeal to the Cross. His plots
are often highly theatrical, affording thrilling moments, scenes
of tenderness and beauty, and surprising climaxes. After his
appointment as court poet he produced a spectacle called Circe
near the lake at Buen Retiro. During its course there were
represented mountains, forests, with trees fashioned in human
form, waterfalls with concealed lights, and an immense car
plated with silver and drawn by two fishes, out of whose
mouths flowed sparkling fountains. The man of genius had
turned showman; and no doubt Calderon himself was deeply
conscious of the emptiness of such spectacles, in comparison
to the thoughtfulness and poetic beauty of such a play, for
example, as Life is a Dream (La Vida Es Sueno), which is
indeed not one of his best plots, yet is one of his most appeal-
ing tragedies.

There is in Calderon something splendid, ethical, intense.
Like all writers, he was limited by the peculiarities of his age
and country. He must have understood and felt something of
the spirit of the Renaissance and of the stirrings within the
Church; but he gives no sign. He never emerged into the
world of modern thought. His greatness reveals itself in a
certain depth and richness of nature, a poetic quality, and an
attitude of large tolerance and sympathy for the vagaries of
the human heart. He made an extraordinary appeal to his
contemporaries, sometimes as mystic, sometimes as lover, and
always as the seeker after truth. With him a new tone came
into the drama—a tone of questioning, of ironical patience
mingled with bitterness.

Excellences and weaknesses of Spanish drama. With the
complete establishment of the romantic type, certain weak-
nesses inevitably showed themselves. Only such geniuses as
Lope and Calderon could triumphantly overcome the frequent
excess Of passion, extravagances of plot, and childishness of
intellect. Moreover, the writers were bound by the restric-
tions both of the court and of the Church, which limited all
kinds of art. Nevertheless the Spanish drama of the sixteentha

SE eee Deen see arly

aia s)
Wey

166 NATIONAL DRAMA: SPAIN TO 1700

and seventeenth centuries stands with the Greek and Eliza-
bethan as one of the supreme monuments of national genius.
There was in it abundance of invention, poetry, revelation of
human nature, and that undercurrent of philosophy which indi-
cates the struggle of the mind with the problems of existence.
When Calderon passed from the stage, the influence of the
Italians and French became more pronounced, and the neo-
classic style came into fashion. The supposed rules of the
antique stage little by little smothered the native spontaneity ;
and for more than a century there were indeed many plays,
but little of dramatic worth. Not until near the close of the
eighteenth century did Lope and Calderén come into their own,
through a revival of interest in the romantic type of play.CHAPTER XIX
TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

The French followed the bent of their own genius, just as the
Spanish had done, and the English; and this led them in time to a
drama not so energetic as the English, and not so full of surprises
as the Spanish, but surpassing them both in the symmetry of its
structure and in the logic with which the action was conducted.—
BRANDER MatrHews, The Development of the Drama.

The year 1500 marks the beginning of the decline of the sa-
cred drama in France. The mysteries held out for nearly half
a century longer, but the life had gone out of them. They
were despised alike by the Church, by men of letters, and by
men of fashion. On the other hand, the lure of the ancient
literatures was growing stronger. From the beginning of the
sixteenth century, the study of Greek and Latin became the
fashion in cultured circles. Gray-haired men went to school
for the purpose of acquiring these languages, people copied the
antique mode in dress and manners, and sought in numberless
ways to revive the pagan ideals. The elegant translations of
Amyot, a professor of Latin and Greek at the University of
Paris, had a great vogue. While Greek was occasionally
studied and mastered, yet it was Latin, on the whole, which
caught the attention of men of the Renaissance. The play-
wrights did not go back to the great tragic poets and comic
writers of Greece; it was Seneca, Plautus and Terence whom
they studied and imitated. Roman heroes, and Greek heroes
as presented by the Latins, were destined to be the favorite
subjects of French dramatists for a period of more than two
hundred years.

In this phase, the activities of colleges and schools had con-
siderable importance. The plays of Seneca, with the Sofonisba
of Trissino, supplied the model; but the first products were

167

[

Py
>

aL |168 TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

only declamatory dialogues and recitations. The names of
more than a dozen of these translators and imitators remain,
and the titles of their work tell the same old story that was
heard in Italy: Dido, Medea, Agamemnon, and so on. The
leader of this group was Jodelle, whose most important play,
Cleopatra, was produced in 1552. Some of the writers at-
tempted religious subjects, but few of the plays have been
found interesting enough to suggest any modern reprint. The
works of Robert Garnier, however, were collected and re-
printed in the latter part of the last century. Garnier wrote
tragedies on both Greek and Latin subjects: Portia, Cornelia,
Antigone, The Trojans, Hippolytus, which are scarcely more
than pleasing conversations interspersed with lyric passages.
The action is described, not shown, and seldom leads to any-
thing like a climax. Nevertheless, Garnier was popular in his
day. An edition of his tragedies was reprinted every year for
forty years.

Protest against the classic type. In the midst of this boom
of the classics, certain voices were raised in protest, among
them that of Alexander Hardy, who had written plays for
the Brotherhood of the Passion before the performance of the
mysteries was forbidden. Hardy was familiar with the prac-
tical workings of the stage, and was also a born playwright.
He produced pastorals, tragedies, and tragi-comedies, taking
his subjects from ancient history, through Plutarch and other
writers. His tragedies were built in five acts, according to the
Senecan model; but the characters were his contemporaries,
and the ideas were those of his time and nation. The honesty
of his workmanship and his avoidance of indecency drew the
interest of men of influence to the theater, which soon began
to be recognized as an esthetic institution. Women of refine-
ment found they could attend performances, where hitherto
they had been kept away by the indecorous nature of the
plays. The tennis-court stage of the Hotel de Bourgogne be-
came more and more respectable and influential, until in time
Richelieu took it under his powerful patronage. As theater
audiences grew in numbers, a second playhouse was estab-

1 Alexander Hardy, 1560-1631. Court poet to Henry IV.TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 169

lished—the Marais, which soon became a rival to the Hotel de
Bourgogne.

The influence of Hardy was of a mixed sort. He was much
nearer the romantic than the classic school, so far as his own
nature was concerned; but he was not powerful enough as a
writer to mould and shape, once for all, the dramatic taste
of his time, as Lope had done in Spain. Hardy’s immediate
followers, less inventive and less gifted than himself, imitated
his habit of borrowing the classic subjects without being able
to endow them with fresh life. As the vogue of the theater
increased, they not only borrowed plots wholesale, but imported
from Italy the pseudo-classical rules for tragedy. The idea of
logical procedure, order, and a fixed design, so congenial to
the French mind, laid its stranglehold upon the drama. In ad-
dition to this, the influence of the famous salons and literary
societies was strongly away from contemporary and national,
towards foreign and antique standards. It is time now to ex-
amine the nature of these celebrated French salons.

The Blue-stockings of the Renaissance. Shortly after the
death of Hardy the cause of art and learning in France re-
ceived a powerful impetus through the sudden popularity of
literary clubs. The most famous of these was the group of
young men of fashion, writers, statesmen and clever women
who convened at the salon of the brilliant Marquise de Ram-
bouillet, an accomplished, witty hostess who seems to have set
the fashion for women, as well as men, to be acquainted with
literary and political affairs. Mlle de Scudéry, who had a turn
for story writing, composed romances in which were por-
trayed her companions of the salon, and they in turn tried to
live up to the exotic picture she had made. Their speech, at
first simply polite and cultured, began quickly to be affected
and artificial. They got into the habit of using absurd circum-
locutions, catchwords, and pompous roundabout phrases in
order to avoid mentioning anything common or vulgar. Often
these euphemisms were unintelligible to everybody except mem-
bers of the group. The young men composed stilted verses in
praise of the ladies, attributing to them virtues as well as im-
possible perfections. With all this interchange of compliments,

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there was a strict standard of decorum. The exalted refine-
ment of the ladies and the pedantic gallantry of the men al-
lowed no familiarity, nor anything so vulgar as a flirtation;
but between themselves the ladies used terms of endearment
such as ma chére, ma précieuse. From this custom they re-
ceived the name les précieuses, and from that time till the
present any stilted, highly artificial form of artistic work has
been called “précieuse.”

A list of the people who frequented the Hotel de Rambouil-
let reads like a political and literary Who’s Who for Paris of
the early seventeenth century: Mlle de Scudéry, Mme de
Sévigné, Mme de Ja Fayette, Duchesse de Longueville, Duch-
esse de Chevreuse, Mme Deshouliére, the earlier Balzac, Voi-
ture, Bossuet, Costart. It was their purpose to forward the
cause of culture and to direct their thoughts towards the things
of the mind rather than towards things of the body. They
made literature and the arts of at least equal importance with
eating, drinking, and hunting; moreover, they set their seal
upon the movement towards better ideals for the stage. Their
appreciation encouraged young unknown writers, and their
criticism and discussions must have done much to keep alive
an interest in arts and letters. Brunetiére asserts that the
drama of Corneille is “a lasting testimony to the nobility, lofti-
ness and generosity of the artistic ideals of the précieuses.”
There is no doubt, however, that the activities of this coterie
of learning became in time absurd and foolish, and perhaps
they merited the ridicule which Moliére heaped upon them.
The affectation of their speech, their leaning towards senti-
mentality, the over-niceness of their tastes, all tended towards
falseness and superficiality, not to say sham.

Pierre Corneille. 1606-1684. At this stage, when the clas-
sical ideal had not yet become unalterably fixed, Corneille ap-
peared. His first works were comedies, and none too good ;
but when, at the age of thirty-one, he produced the Cid, there
was erected an important landmark in the history of drama.
The Cid, it will be remembered, was a Spanish hero of the
twelfth century. His deeds were celebrated in many ballads
and poems, and had been made the subject of a play by theTRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 171

Spanish Guillén de Castro. Corneille, conscious of the classic
bent of French taste, adhered pretty closely to the so-called
Aristotelian rules, yet contrived to produce a tragedy which,
in depth of passion, poetic fervor and vigor, far surpassed any-
thing that had so far been seen on the Parisian stage. Thus
the first important French tragedy had for its subject a
medieval though foreign fable, and was a compromise between
the romantic and classic schools. Its spontaneousness and bold-
ness were romantic in character; while the conduct of the
struggle of the hero between love and duty, with the subordi-
nation of all other incidents, was decidedly in the classic
spirit. The play was in many respects technically faulty; yet
it stood, and still stands, the one practical test of a good play:
it acts well.

In 1635, two years before the appearance of the Cid, a
group of literary friends, accustomed to meet regularly for the
purpose of discussion, had been officially recognized by Car-
dinal Richelieu and elevated into a national institution under
the name of the French Academy. This body of men, inspired
by the great Cardinal, reproached Corneille for too close an
observance of the classic rules; for “sinning against nature in
his anxiety not to sin against the rules of art.’ This oddity
in historic criticism could not have crushed Corneille com-
pletely, however, for the Cid had a great success. It had been
put on in the theater in the Marais, which was filled; and seats
were placed on the stage after the English custom. The merits
of the play were the subject of much discussion, and its au-
thor almost immediately acquired the position, which he occu-
pied for many years, of the leading dramatist of his country.

Corneille’s workmanship. French drama is indebted to Cor-
neille not only for its first important tragedy, but also for its
first important comedy, The Liar (Le Menteur). Although
as a writer of comedy he exhibited undoubted genius, yet his
greatest work, both in bulk and in quality, was in tragedy. He
wrote thirty plays, choosing a great many historical subjects,
several of which had often been used before, such as Sofon-
isba, Attila, CEdipus. He avowed his allegiance to the so-
called classical rules, and for a part of the time he adhered to172 TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

them. His theory was that the subject of a tragedy should
be remote and improbable, with as many striking and extraor-
dinary situations as were compatible with unity of action.
His plays succeeded in spite of his theories. As an artist he
had boldness, spontaneity, and a love of the marvellous. He
was impatient of the austere restraints which the classic spirit
imposes upon its followers, and his complicated plots did not
easily fall into the mould required by the unities. But he was
anxious for the favor of the literary circles, especially for that
of the précieuses, and was almost forced to submit to the
fashion for classic styles.

Corneille carried on the work, begun by Hardy, of purify-
ing and refining the stage. He claimed with pride that women
need no longer be offended by the vulgar license of former
times. He was fond of political plays, but made little of the
passion of love. When he used that theme, he was apt to be-
come frigid and artificial He reigned on the French stage
like an autocrat, though not without criticism and opposition.
Sixteen years before his death the work of the younger poet
Racine displaced that of Corneille, whose decline was as rapid
as his rise. Fontenelle, his nephew, wrote: “The fall of the
great Corneille may be reckoned as among the most remark-
able examples of the vicissitudes of human affairs; even that
of Belisarius asking alms is not more striking.” Nevertheless,
Corneille justly ranks as a great figure in French drama. He
had much skill in unfolding an intricate plot; and, as a poet,
his verse is marked by imaginative power and tenderness.

Jean Racine. 1639-1699. The second representative of
French classical tragedy was born two years after the appear-
ance of Corneille’s Cid. Racine was well educated at the
school of a religious brotherhood at Port Royal, and, unlike
most of the dramatists of the age, he knew Greek as well as
Latin. His first pieces were failures, and called forth from
the great Corneille the advice not to attempt any more trag-
edies. The young man was ungrateful enough not to take this
advice. His Andromaque (1667) was highly successful. It
made the greater impression because already there was ap-
parent in it a principle of composition which differed funda-TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 173

mentally from that of Corneille. This difference (to be ex-
plained presently) was the cause of a long and bitter literary
warfare. There rose in Paris two cliques, one represented by
Racine, Boileau and Moliere, the other by Corneille and his
followers. In 1670 Racine and Corneille were asked to write a
play on the subject of Bérénice, though each was kept igno-
rant of the fact that the other was attempting the same theme.
Corneille’s play was coldly received, while that of Racine
proved a triumphant success. Corneille’s popularity, already
waning, received a death blow, and the supremacy of Racine
was established.

Racine, however, was far from being satisfied. The court
and literary circles were full of intrigue, which turned him
against the world; and he was beset by religious doubts con-
cerning the morality of the theater. Soon after his success
with Bérénice he abandoned his career as a dramatist, and ac-
cepted an appointment as historiographer to Louis XIV. For
twelve years he wrote nothing for the stage; then at the request
of Madame de Maintenon he produced Esther and Athalie for
the pupils of Saint Cyr, a girls’ school under royal patronage.
Esther was presented with great success, but Athalie, though
published, was never enacted until after the author’s death.

In his later life, Racine developed an attitude very different
from that of the self-confident youth who so boldly withstood
the criticisms of Corneille. He became conscientious almost to
the point of morbidity, and looked with distaste upon his own
writings. New editions failed to interest him. “For a long
time past,” he said, “God has graciously permitted that the
good or evil that may be said of my tragedies scarcely moves
me, and I am only troubled by the account of them I shall one
day have to render to Him.” Racine was accomplished as a
prose writer as well as a poet, and produced histories of value.
He died April 21, 1699.

Racine’s plays. Eleven tragedies and one comedy remain
from the pen of Racine. Nine of his tragedies are based upon
historical subjects of the ancient world, and two upon biblical
subjects. The story of Esther had already been treated six
times by French dramatists, but a comparison of Racine’s

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i174 TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

method with that of other writers, even of his own school, re-
veals a wide difference. Racine reduced the action to its bare
bones,—no underplots, no digressions, episodes, or characters
extraneous to the main action. Instead of the extravagant sen-
sational incidents such as Corneille delighted in, Racine worked
with probabilities, everyday events, characters nearer to the
commonplace. His object was to depict the possibilities of pas-
sion implicit in the common experiences of man, the living real-
ity instead of the exceptional situation. Corneille had declared
it a law that the subject of a fine tragedy ought not to be
probable; to which Racine answered that nothing but what is
probable should ever be used in tragedy.

Racine’s genius, however, was something far beyond the
mere negative virtue of avoiding intricate and improbable plots.
Not only did he simplify the action of his plays, but he formed
an austere and elegant style appropriate to such simplicity. He
avoided windy, rhetorical declamations and “purple patches,”
and expressed complex things with ease and beauty. His was
an authentic voice, not an echo. Given a simple situation, he
sought to go deeper into it, to throw upon it the searchlight
of understanding combined with a passionate sympathy. As
Corneille was more concerned with events, so Racine was more
concerned with character; and he gave more importance to the
passion of love than any previous dramatist had ever done.
He said that as love is the most universal of passions, so it is
therefore capable of being the most tragic; that love best dis-
plays the peculiarities, the fickleness, the weaknesses and
strength of character; and that while there are few ways of
showing such a passion as avarice, for example, there are
many ways of being in love.

Racine and the critics. Racine did not escape criticism even
from the men who followed in his footsteps. Voltaire sneered
about the similarity of his heroes; and the Encyclopedists of
the next generation disparaged what they termed the access of
sensibility into the drama. The disposition towards sensibility,
they said, accompanies weakness, and results from a motion of
the diaphragm. It is a disposition which inclines us to admire,
to sympathize, to be thrilled ; but it is also one which inclines usTRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 175

to lose our reason, to be mad, to have no exact idea of the
true, the good, and the beautiful. Inept as this criticism seems
when applied to Racine, yet it was in accordance with the
movement, fostered by the Encyclopzdists, which sought to
make practical use of everything. This attitude was expressed
by Newton when he spoke of poetry as ingenious fiddle-faddle.
Boileau considered that Racine stood at the head of the art
of his time. It may be said, in passing, that Boileau was the
Horace of the late seventeenth century, a man of extraordinary
good sense and taste, trying, in his criticisms, to point out
reasons for admiration or condemnation—reasons which could
be justified by nature and experience. His main idea was that
the models of the ancients should be used to restrain the too
exuberant outpourings of undisciplined talent. To him, natu-
rally, the work of Racine appeared to be more in accordance
with the canons of good taste than that of Corneille.

Many of the modern critics have found Racine somewhat
cold and formal. It cannot be denied that to the reader of
today, accustomed to the greater diversity and richness of the
romanticists, his concentration and simplicity seem occasion-
ally bare and frigid. Professor Erskine, in comparing the an-
cient with the French classic play, says: “The Greek type of
life is made clear by wonder and love; the Racine type is life
set in order by rule.” Saint-Beuve comments: “His style as a
rule borders on prose, except as regards the invariable ele-
gance of its form.” Even single lines bear evidence of this
elegance and concentration. Professor Vaughn, in his study of
types of tragic drama, has summed up as follows:

“These then are the supreme qualities of Racine: his deep
knowledge of human character, so far as it bears directly upon
action; his power of directing the action so as to grip the given
characters at close quarters, to wake the energies of their soul to
the utmost intensity, to call forth the strongest instincts of the
heart. The two plays in which these qualities reveal themselves
most clearly are probably Andromaque and Phédre.” 2

* Phédre is based on the story of Hippolytus, used by both Euripides
and Seneca.

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|176 TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

Mr. Arthur Symons, of our own day, said of Phédre that it
is the greatest role in the whole repertory of poetic drama, and
that it alone reveals Racine as one of the most passionate of
poets.

It must be generally admitted that among the writers of the
French classical school, Racine stands preeminent. He had the
singleness of purpose which characterized the ancients at their
best. The strength of the neo-classic school lay in its depth of
understanding, its clear simple beauty, and in the poetry with
which the author was able to envelop his theme.CHAPTER XX
COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

Moliére: Surely of all the wits none was ever so good a man,
none ever made life so rich with humor and friendship—ANpDREW
Lane, Letters to Dead Authors.

He touk the side of simple dignity, of human nature against all
the narrowing vices, whether of avarice, licentiousness, self-
righteousness or preciosity. He has written the smiling poetry of
our sins——RosBert Lynp.

The broad and often vulgar humor of the Middle Ages was
not the foundation upon which the comedy of Moliere and the
seventeenth century was built. The Farce of Pierre Pathelin
and other comic pieces continued to live; but the dramatists
turned away from such naive material and sought their plots
in the tales, novelle, and plays of Italy and Spain. It has al-
ready been noted that Italy in the late Middle Ages was the
home of learning and the nursery of aristocratic amusements.
Both social comedy and the Commedia dell’ Arte were flourish-
ing there in the sixteenth century; and in 1571 a company of
Italian comedians, called the Gelosi, came to Paris, became
very popular and remained for six years.

Early writers of comedy. Pierre de Larrivey, a Frenchman
of Italian ancestry who belongs to the latter half of the six-
teenth century, left nine comedies, all of which were either
translations or adaptations from the Italian. They are in
prose, with the typical Italian intrigues, stock characters, mis-
understandings and recognitions. The plots generally hinge on
the rascally valet, conniving either for money or for an illicit
love affair for his master. Besides Larrivey, there were Jean
Godard and Odet de Turnébe, each of whom contributed a lit-
tle in the way of Italian adaptations or imitations. In the
early seventeenth century we have the names of Thomas Cor-

177178 COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

neille, Quinault, and Scarron, who for the most part turned
to Spain for their models.

Although there was no outstanding comic genius, yet during
the century following the visit of the Gelosi some advance was
made in naturalness and in construction. In the years between
1640 and 1658 more than two hundred French comedies were
produced. They were generally of a romantic turn, often ex-
travagant, with fantastic or stock characters. The plots, how-
ever, never reached that stage of elegant and cynical depravity
achieved by the Italian writers of comedy. Certain play-
wrights, influenced by the Spanish mode, dealt in disguises,
trap doors, dark lanterns and mysterious happenings. Whether
following the Spanish or Italian style, however, the plays gen-
erally portrayed type-characters, such as the miser, the doctor,
the parasite, or the shrewd servant. Few are of interest today
except as they mark the steps in the progress which was to cul-
minate in the work of Moliére.

Jean Baptiste de Poquelin de Moliére. 1621-1673. The
life of Moliére is a story of struggle, hard work, domestic un-
happiness, death and burial in obscurity and almost in shame.
In time, he belongs between Corneille and Racine, but he died
before either of them. His birth is obscure. At school he
seems to have become acquainted with many Latin, Spanish,
and Italian comedies. In his poverty he associated with low
companions, and at one time he acted as valet in the household
of the king. At about the age of twenty-two he became an
actor and manager; but for a time he was wholly unsuccess-
ful. One theatrical enterprise after another failed, and in
1645 he was imprisoned for debt. After being released, he
gathered together a group of actors and left Paris for a tour
of the provinces—a tour which lasted about ten years.

In 1658 Moliere brought his company of actors to Paris and
played for the first time in the presence of the king, Louis
XIV, in the guard room of the old Louvre. The pieces pre-
sented were Corneille’s Nicoméde, and Docteur Amoureux, by
Moliére himself. Fortunately, on this return to the capital
Moliére’s sense of humor was tickled by the absurdities of
the salons and the literary ladies whose chief aim in life was toa
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COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 179

promote culture; and the production of Les précieuses ridi-
cules in 1659 proved the turning point in his career. It was
his first attempt to handle real life as it was in the Paris of
his own day. Madame de Rambouillet was dead; but the lit-
erary cult which she had established was still very much the
fashion. Moliere seized upon the affected speech, the elegant
gallantries and the learned sentimentality of the précieuses and
caricatured them with infinite skill. Even the blue-stockings
and the gallants were obliged to laugh at themselves. Les
précieuses ridicules was an immediate success, and encouraged
its author to believe that contemporary life was his true field.

From that time on Moliere gradually perfected his style,
though as manager he continued to produce the plays of in-
trigue and roystering adventure which were characteristic of
the older school. In his own plays he created a new genre,
attacking not only the sentimental blue-stockings and vapid
swains of the salon, but nobles, actors, priests, doctors, Cor-
neille and the high-flown writers of his class together with the
plays of the rival theater—anybody and everybody afforded a
target for his laughter-provoking shafts. He was not only
dramatist but also chief actor in his company, and as comedian
he must have had extraordinary gifts. While acting in his last
play, Le malade wmaginaire, in 1673, he was seized with an at-
tack of coughing which proved to be the forerunner of his
death. He was denied the sacrament of the Church, and
grudgingly allowed Christian burial. During the following cen-
tury his bust was placed in the Academy, and a monument
erected over his grave.

The plays of Moliere. There are in all more than a score
of plays from the hand of this genius. They are written in
verse of a rather prosaic sort, and divided sometimes into
three, sometimes into five acts. He attempted many different
methods in the handling of comedy, and in almost every one he
succeeded brilliantly. Professor Matthews has listed plays
which belong respectively to the comedy of manners, the com-
edy of character, romantic comedy, tragi-comedy, comedy bal-
let, criticism in dialogue, satiric interlude, legendary drama,
and a sort of philosophic comedy which sometimes turned to180 COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

farce, and sometimes developed into serious drama. Moliére
took his plots from whatever source pleased his fancy. Some
came from Lope de Vega and other Spanish playwrights;
others from Italian originals which had been brought to France
by Larrivey. He was familiar with the methods of the Italian
Commedia dell’ Arte. It is neither in his plots nor in his
situations that the greatness of Moliére lies, but in his under-
standing and revelation of character. He could pick up the
trifling, intimate details of a man’s daily habit and turn them
to dramatic uses with marvellous dexterity. His style was
well adapted to speech, his wit almost unfailing. While bor-
rowing freely from Spanish and Italian sources, yet he had
small interest in the childish devices of trap doors, lost chil-
dren, abductions and strawberry-mark recognitions. What in-
terested him was the way a man could act when vanity, con-
ceit, hypocrisy or greed gained control. He set forth his story
and brought the action to a climax without the use of con-
fidants, asides, soliloquies, or clumsy explanations; and all the
time he kept his audience laughing. In the language of George
Meredith, he was “both precise and voluble,” regarding noth-
ing as sacred, nothing beyond the reach of his wit. With all
this, however, there was in his mind a positive belief in the
goodness of human nature and in the saving power of common
sense. He himself was kind, sincere, honest, with a hatred of
hypocrisy and cant, of sham and humbug. He loved youth
and all things that are hearty and wholesome; and he was
never bigoted, malicious or mean.

Moliére and the critics. Nearly all of Moliére’s work was
done with too much haste. He has been accused of not having
a consistent, organic style, of using faulty grammar, of mixing
his metaphors, and of using unnecessary words for the pur-
pose of filling out his lines. All these things are occasionally
true, but they are trifles in comparison to the wealth of charac-
ter he portrayed, to his brilliancy of wit, and to the resource-
fulness of his technique. He was wary of sensibility or pathos;
but in place of pathos he had “melancholy—a puissant and
searching melancholy, which strangely sustains his inexhaustible
mirth and his triumphant gaiety.” +

1 Brander Matthews, The Development of the Drama.COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700 181

Both the comic and the serious drama were powerfully af-
fected by the work of Moliére, not only in his own age and
country but everywhere and up to the present time. Every
dramatist who has lived since his time is indebted to him.
Fielding and Sheridan in England, and Regnard in France
learned their technique from him, and sometimes borrowed his
situations outright. The general structure of his plays has
never been improved. Professor Matthews says:

“The plays of Sophocles and of Shakespeare cannot be shown
on the stage of today without many suppressions and modifica-
tions; but the plays of Moliére can be performed now anywhere
without change or excision, absolutely as they were acted by their
author and his comrades nearly two hundred and fifty years ago.
So far as the external form of their dramas is concerned, Soph-
ocles is ancient, Shakespeare is medieval, Moliére is modern; and
the large framework of his ampler comedies has supplied a model
for the dramatists of every living language.”

Mode of giving seventeenth century plays. The “tennis
court’ of the Hotel de Bourgogne and other French theaters
was a long narrow auditorium with a shallow stage at one end,
set as in a picture frame. It sometimes had a curtain, and
was lighted by candles. Plays were given by companies of
professional actors, and spectators paid to see them. The
medieval and ancient plan of periodic festivals, outdoor per-
formances, amateur actors, and a general community interest
in the production had definitely given place to public theaters
open at regular and stated times, and managed for the most
part by private enterprise for gain. Playwrights had turned
from poetry to prose, scenery was growing more and more im-
portant, and music and dancing, which in the beginning had
been of quite as much importance as the play itself, were al-
most entirely eliminated.CHAPTER XXI
THE KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

For the English people, it (the drama in London) was the mir-
ror of the sixteenth century, the compendium of all that the Renais-
sance had brought to light... . It meant for England the recov-
ery of Greek and Latin culture, the emancipation of the mind
from medieval bondage, the emergence of the human spirit in its
freedom. It meant awakening continents beyond Atlantic seas... .
—J. A. Symonps, Shakspere’s Predecessors in the English Drama.

The Tudor family, who came to the throne in 1483, not only
patronized but enjoyed the theater and music,—the only forms
of art flourishing in England at that time. As compared with
Italy or France, England was crude and unsophisticated. Cel-
lini, who has given us a vivid description of Italian society
in 1500, openly regarded the English of his day as savages.
Erasmus the Dutch savant, half of whose life extended into the
sixteenth century, visited England several times, and gave lec-
tures on Greek literature at Cambridge. He commented on the
filth of the houses and the diseases in the cities due to de-
fective sanitation, poor ventilation and other unhygienic con-
ditions. The whipping post, pillory and stocks were in every
township, and an execution block on Tower Hill in London.
With harsh civil laws, there existed also coarse and irreverent
festivals such as the Feast of the Ass, the Feast of Fools, and
the Boy Bishop, during which the revelry was carried into the
church and up to the altar. Nobles and riffraff together, in
the vile smelling bull and bear pits, witnessed cruel sports.
Old women were burnt as witches. Men of letters who dis-
coursed of Aristotle and philosophy relished the disgusting ob-
scenities of jesters and fools; and people who dressed in velvet
had personal habits and table manners which today would dis-
grace a tramp.

182KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 183

The pursuit of learning. ‘There is another side to the pic-
ture, however. Contemporaneous with the gallants and fine
ladies who led merely a life of pleasure, there existed also a
group of people devoted in their way to the pursuit of litera-
ture and the arts. The study of Greek had been instituted in
the fifteenth century both at Oxford and Cambridge. Erasmus
had found scholars as brilliant as any in Europe. Men and
women of high birth often spent considerable time in study,
following the example of Queen Elizabeth in learning the an-
cient languages. The royal family and the nobility imported
humanists from the continent for the education of their chil-
dren. With the increasing interest in things of the mind, more-
over, there remained a certain sturdy manliness characteristic
of the race. The English had so far escaped the cynicism and
sophisticated vice represented by Machiavelli and Aretino in
Italy, and betrayed none of the fatigued and insolent indiffer-
ence to moral standards that characterized so many popular
writers of the south.

Forces that shaped the Elizabethan drama, Against such a
background rose the theater that was to produce Shakespeare
and his fellow-craftsmen. With the decline of the mysteries
and miracles, other types of plays quickly took shape, and many
playwrights sprang up. The love of the theater extended to
all classes. The dramatic instinct of the people had been fos-
tered by the circulation of ballads and romances of chivalry,
notably by the Morte d’Arthur of Malory. The printing press
of William Caxton, set up in 1474, began to put forth works
of various sorts, sixty-four books being printed during the
first twenty years of its existence. There ensued for the
drama, even before the advent of the greater Elizabethans, a
germinating, experimenting, and fertile period in which at least
a dozen species began to flourish, each influenced, though in
different degrees, by three forces: (1) the existing native
drama; (2) romantic literature; and (3) the classic models.
We shall now make a brief study of the more important of
these species, beginning with the interlude, which was the link
between native medieval drama and that of the Elizabethans.184 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700
I. THe INTERLUDE

The interlude, which grew out of the morality, was intended,
as its name implies, to be used more as a filler than as the
main part of an entertainment. At its best it was short, witty,
oe in plot, suited for the diversion of guests at a banquet,

- for the relaxation of the audience between the divisions of
a serious play. Unlike the ae it was essentially an in-
doors performance, and generally of an aristocratic nature. In
its development it tended always towards greater refinement
and concentration. At first the flavor of the morality clung to
it, as is seen by such titles as The Four Ele ments, or The
World and the Child. In the early part of the sixteenth cen-
tury political subjects began to be used, and public officials
were Satirized under allegorical names. It will be remembered
that this was the century of Luther and much dissension in the
Church; and religion was often criticised under cover of the
interlude. Cardinal Wolsey imprisoned an author, John Roo,
and an actor, for alleged satire against himself in a pray
called Lord Governance and Lady Public Weal, presented a
Gray’s Inn at Christmas time, 1525 or 1527. The aes
pleaded that the play had been “compy led for the moste part”
twenty years before, at a time when the Cardinal had not yet
come to any position of authority; consequently the culprits
were released. In a Latin play given before the king and the
French ambassador in 1527 unflattering portraits of “Lewter”
and his wife were presented, other characters in the piece
being Religion, Veritas, Heresy, and False Interpretation. In
the Protestant camp John Bale, author of God’s Merciful
Promises and other interludes, was one of the strongest of the
anti-popish writers.

The best of the interludes, however, were not those used for
the purpose of propaganda. As the species developed, abstract
characters gave place to recognizable human beings, didacticism
disappeared, and a spirit of genuine comedy emerged. Life
was no longer like the morality, a battlefield between Virtue
and Vice, with the betting chances strongly in favor of Vice,
but an opportunity for amusing and diversified experiences.KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 185

The engaging quality which characterizes Chaucer and Piers
Plowman was little by little transferred to the stage, partly at
least through the interlude.

John Heywood. Conjectural dates 1497-1580. The most
important writer of interludes, at the period when they were
merging into comedy, was John Heywood, choir boy at the
Chapel Royal in London, and at one time connected with the
production of plays at the court of Henry VII. He was a
loyal Catholic; and after the death of Mary, being out of sym-
pathy with the strong Protestant movement of the day, he
journeyed to the continent and died there. Although entirely
faithful to his Church, Heywood did not hesitate to criticise
its weaknesses. In his plays he broke away from the conven-
tional tone and allegorical manner of the morality, and treated
his themes in an ironical, good-humored style. His titles alone
are diverting. The Merry Play between Johan the Husband,
Tyb his Wife, and Sir John the Priest is a farce showing how
Tyb and the Priest discipline the Husband by making him sit
by, fasting, while they devour the pie which has been cooked
for dinner. The Play of the Pardoner and the Friar is a
lively debate between two churchmen each of whom tries to
out-argue and out-preach the other. The most famous of Hey-
wood’s interludes is the comic piece The Four P’s, written
about 1530.* It is in racy verse, has excellent dialogue, a
witty situation, and no ulterior purpose, unless it be to expose
in an amusing manner the weaknesses both of religionists and
medicine men. There is nothing strikingly original in the
plot, and long passages were taken bodily from Chaucer; but
it offers a good illustration of the extraordinary advance the
interlude had made since the days of Everyman and The Castle
of Perseverance.

Extension of subjects. The taste of the public led the writers
of interludes ever more and more towards greater realism,
more blood-curdling scenes, and increasing excitement in plot,

1 As given in the Athenaeum Press Series, Specimens of the Pre-Shak-
sperean Drama, edited by John M. Manly, the title reads: The playe
called the foure PP. A newe and a very mery enterlude of A Palmer,
A Pardoner, A Potycary, A Pedler. Made by John Heewood.

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together with a wider range of subjects. Bale’s King John
illustrates the use of English history, while an unknown author
presents Roman history in Appius and Virginia. Greek legend
appears in the Interlude of Vice concerning Horestes, by Pik-
ering ; a medieval tale in the Commodye of pacient and meeke
Grissill by John Phillips; and an oriental subject in Preston’s
Lamentable Tragedy mixed full of pleasant mirth, conteyning
the life of Cambyses King of Percia. These plays belong to
the sixth decade of the sixteenth century, and keep the general
tone of the interlude. They are written in rhymed verse, with-
out division into acts or scenes; and the historical matter is in-
terspersed with gags, horse play and general buffoonery. The
stock figure of Vice appears under various names: Ambidexter
in Cambyses, Sedition in King John, Haphazard in Appius and
Virginia. The existence of these somewhat sensational plays
indicates the growing taste on the part of the public for heavy-
handed passions, lurid scenes, and vivid action. The inter-
ludes were thoroughly English, both in characterization and
humor, and were not overcome either by the classic or the
Hispano-romantic influences. They present abundant evidence
of the native sense, good humor, and energy of mind which
became so important a part of the work of the great Eliza-
bethans.

II. THe EARLIEST COMEDIES

It was upon native material such as The Four P’s and simi-
lar interludes that English comedy was built. It is plain, how-
ever, that there was need of design, or form, which would en-
able writers to shape the story material more effectively. This
element of design was supplied in England, as elsewhere, by
the classic models. While there was not much first-hand ac-
quaintance with the Greek plays in England, yet there is rec-
ord of the Plutus of Aristophanes being given in the original
before Queen Elizabeth. Latin, however, both as a language
and literature, was more familiar. Scholars of the universi-
ties read Terence and Seneca forthe purity of their style, and
often enacted their plays, giving them in Latin. When the
twelve lost plays of Plautus were restored to the world, theyKINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 187

were immediately added to the repertory of the academies and
universities. The Girl of Andros, by Terence, appeared in an
English translation late in the fifteenth century, and was re-
printed three times during the sixteenth. Translations of the
Seneca plays began to be issued about 1560, and of the Plautine
plays a little later.

Nicholas Udall, author of the first native comedy, prepared
from Terence a book of Latin recitations designed to be used
as a reader; and about the middle of the sixteenth century an
unknown writer produced Jack Juggler, a one-act piece “for
children to act,” which was avowedly an imitation of the first
act of the Amphitruo of Plautus. Though in structure this
piece was an imitation, yet the people as well as the scenes are
Elizabethan English.

Classic influences, however, came not only from a study of
the originals, but also through European imitations, especially
those of Italy. The fashionable youth of England went to
Italy for culture and finish. To almost every department of
Italian literature great names had been added—names which
were nowhere else paralleled; and the works of these authors
were almost immediately put upon the market in England.
The drama of Italy, as has already been pointed out, was a
peculiar blend of Seneca, Terence, Horace, and Aristotle. It is
not surprising, therefore, that by imitation and adaptation a
powerful classical school of drama rose in England. One of
its first representatives was George Gascoigne, who made two
translations of Italian plays: Ariosto’s Suppositi (incorrectly
called The Supposes) and the Jocasta of Dolce, produced in
1566 by the Gentlemen of Gray’s Inn, a group to which
Gascoigne belonged. The first of these, so far as main plot
and characters are concerned, is founded on The Captives of
Plautus.

Nicholas Udall. Born about 1505. The name of Udall is
famous as the author of the first English comedy. He was a
Protestant, a student at Oxford, headmaster at Eton, and later
at Westminster School. While at Eton he encouraged the
production of plays in Latin, and without doubt he mastered
the details of plot construction by studying Plautus and Ter-

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ence. It will be remembered that in Miles Gloriosus, by
Plautus, the chief character is the bragging soldier who told
amazing tales of his exploits in foreign lands, made love to
every pretty woman, freely offered to fight when there was no
one to take him up, and fled when there was any sign of
danger. It was a reincarnation of Miles Gloriosus whom Udall
introduced to the English stage about 1535 in Ralph Roister
Doister, the first comedy in the English language. Like the
classic plays, it was arranged in the five-act form, with the
proper preparation, climax, and close. The air of restraint,
order, and intellectual grasp of the material is classic, but the
style is homely and original. The time is limited to one day,
the scene is the usual Roman comedy scene of a street running
before several houses; but the characterizations, the brand of
humor, and the general attitude toward life and affairs is Eng-
lish to the core. Doister has a parasitic and unscrupulous
companion, Matthew Merigreek, who is in part the scoundrelly
valet of the Italian Comedy of Art, and in part the Vice of
the medieval stage. The old nurse, Margery Mumblecrust,
stands not only as a somewhat new character, but as the pro-
genitor of a long series, the most famous of which is the Nurse
of Juliet. Symonds comments upon this play as follows: “In
Ralph Roister Doister we emerge from medieval grotesquery
and allegory into the clear light of actual life, into an agreeable
atmosphere of urbanity and natural delineation.”

Gammer Gurton’s Needle. The second example of pure
native comedy is no less interesting than Schoolmaster Udall’s
play, though for a different reason. Gammer Gurton’s Needle
was performed at Christ’s College, Cambridge, about 1566, and
is attributed variously to Dr. John Still, Dr. John Bridges,
and William Stevenson. Like Ralph, it is in five acts; the
action takes place within one day, and the scene is the conven-
tional street with houses. Beyond these details, Gammer owes
nothing to the classic model. It is a lusty farce, with very
little plot. Gammer Gurton has lost her needle, and Diccon
the Bedlam, who has been loafing about the cottage, accuses
a neighbor, Dame Chat, of stealing it. With this incident be-
gins a scandalous village row, in which the parson, the bailie,“>

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KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 189

the constable and most of the neighbors one by one become
entangled. The original trouble is lost sight of in the revival
of old quarrels and hidden grudges. The neighbors come to
blows, and confusion seems to reign, when a diversion is cre-
ated by Dame Chat’s finding the needle in the seat of the
breeches of Hodge, the farmhand.

Gammer is often coarse and vulgar, with buffoonery of the
slapstick variety, with no polish or intricacy of plot to tempt
the intellect. It would be a morose person, however, who in
good health could entirely withstand its fun. The characters
belong to the English soil and have English blood in their
veins. Diccon of Bedlam, who is in reality the cause of the
whole fuss, is a new figure on the stage. When, under Henry
VIII, the monasteries were broken up, there were left without
home or patrons many poor, often half-witted people who had
been accustomed to live on the bounty of the religious houses.
These people became professional beggars and vagabonds,
sometimes pretending to be mad in order to be taken care of.
They were called Bedlam Beggars, Abraham Men, or Poor
Toms. It will be recalled that Shakespeare used one of this
class with considerable tragic effect in King Lear.

III. Earty TRAGEDIES PATTERNED AFTER THE CLASSIC
SCHOOL

The influences coming from the revival of classic learning
were more openly manifest in tragedy than in comedy. The
publication and study of ancient plays, both in translation and
in the original, has been noted. The Sofonisba of Trissino,
appearing in Milan in 1515, traveled over Italy and France,
came to England, and, to some extent at least, set the style
for tragedy. The characteristic marks of the neo-classic
form—the observance of the five-act structure and the unities,
the use of the messenger, and absence of death scenes—have
already become a truism; but it is to be noted that the farther
the dramatists were from the true classics, the more afraid
they were of presenting action. By the time the so-calledI90 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

classic school arrived in England, it had become a school of
talk and quietism instead of passion and action.

Just before the advent of the Elizabethans, namely in the
middle years of the sixteenth century, the giving of classic
tragedies in Latin was one of the aristocratic and scholarly
pastimes. Members of the royal family and court circles were
often bidden to performances given in the universities, or by
members of amateur societies such as the Gentlemen of Gray’s
Inn and Gentlemen of the Inner Temple. In 1546 there was
a Jephtha dedicated to Henry VIII; and in 1564 a perform-
ance of a drama based upon the story of Dido was given at
Cambridge before Queen Elizabeth. Another Dido was pre-
sented at Oxford in 1583 for the benefit of a visiting Polish
prince, and a play called Roxana a few years later. These
were examples of classic imitations, given in Latin by school-
men and amateurs.

Gorboduc. ‘The first distinctly English tragedy, performed
before Queen Elizabeth in 1561 by the Gentlemen of the Inner
Temple, was published under the title of The Tragedie of
Gorboduc. Later it was reissued under the name of Ferrex
and Porrex, The first three acts were written by Thomas
Norton, a learned barrister, the remainder by Thomas Sack-
ville, afterward Earl of Dorset. The subject is taken from
Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Britonum: that is, from
ancient English, not classic, fables. Nothing of a more grisly
nature could well be found. The Argument to the first edition
reads thus:

“Gorboduc, King of Britain, divided his realm in his lifetime to
his two sons, Ferrex and Porrex. The sons fell to division and
dissension. The younger killed the elder. The mother, that more
dearly loved the elder, for revenge killed the younger. The people,
moved with the cruelty of the act, rose in rebellion and slew both
father and mother. The nobility assembled and most terribly de-
stroyed the rebels. And afterward, for want of issue of the
Prince, whereby the succession of the crown became uncertain,
they fell to civil war, in which both they and many of their is-
sues were slain, and the land for a long time most desolate and
miserably wasted.”KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 191

This tragedy is worthy of some notice, not only because it
is the first play of its kind in English with an English subject,
but on account of its obvious attempt at blending the medieval
and classic elements. In form it is classic, with five acts, a
chorus, an observance of at least two of the unities, and a
style that is solemn and declamatory. The action occurs off-
stage and is reported by a Messenger. Noblemen and privy
councillors, with the King and Queen, deliver set orations,
each in turn, but nothing is seen to happen. Each act ends
with a chorus consisting of “four ancient and sage men of
Britain.” Preceding each act was a dumb show, or panto-
mime, which gave as in a series of tableaux the gist of the
scenes about to follow. Even with the help of the dumb
shows, however, Gorboduc must have been incredibly dull. It
lacks almost everything a drama needs,—characterization, con-
flict, triumph of will over circumstances, climax, tenderness.
Chief of all it lacks life. The cultured minds of the period,
obsessed by the Senecan-Italian-French ideas of tragedy, ad-
mired it.

First use of blank verse. One feature connected with Gor-
boduc was of supreme importance to English drama: it was
written in blank verse. Hitherto tragedies had been written
either in stanzaic forms or in rhymed alexandrines, both of
which are undramatic and unsuited to dialogue. Gorboduc
was the first English play written in blank verse. The form
was Italian, and had previously been used by Surrey in his
translation of two books of the 4neid. As used by Norton
and Sackville in Gorboduc it was monotonous and lacking in
flexibility; but it was musical, adapted to dialogue, and far
better suited to dramatic scenes than any vehicle hitherto known
to the English stage.

French influence. In the meantime, while English scholars
were engaged in studying and imitating the classic models, the
French were holding Robert Garnier up as an example superior
to Trissino or even to Seneca. Garnier illustrated nearly all
the faults and few of the virtues of the classic cult. Action, in
his eyes, was too vulgar to treat at first hand. This point of
view met with cordial approval in London, especially in themit

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192 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 11700

more learned circles such as that presided over by the Countess
of Pembroke, sister to Sir Philip Sidney. This lady made
an attempt to domesticate Garnier on the English stage by
translating his Antony; and four years later Thomas Kyd
made a rendering of the same author’s Cornelia, dedicating it
to the Countess of Sussex. The Cornelia is a masterpiece of
undramatic writing. There is no plot, the action is off-stage
and several years in the past, the chorus is hard-worked but not
the actors. These defects in dramatic quality were not at the
time perceived, and Kyd took more pride in having achieved
this classic imitation than in The Spanish Tragedy which,
seven years earlier, had made a profound appeal to the popular
aste.

The Misfortunes of Arthur. Twenty-six years after the
first appearance of Gorboduc (which brings us to the year
1587), the Gentlemen of Gray’s Inn enacted before Queen
Elizabeth a play in English called The Misfortunes of Arthur,
based upon the legend of the House of Pendragon and treated,
presumably, in much the same manner as the Greeks dealt with
the legend of the House of Atreus. It was mainly by Thomas
Hughes, but he was assisted by seven other members of the
Inn as collaborators, among whom was Francis Bacon, then in
his twenty-third year. The result of the combined efforts was
an exceedingly hateful panorama of murders, incest, adultery
and parricide. The spectators should have been thankful, on
this one occasion at least, for the Messenger, who doubtless
saved them from nerve-racking scenes. Each act opens with
a dumb show and ends with a chorus as in Gorboduc. One
character, the Ghost, who appears early in the first act crying
for revenge, was destined to become a popular and brilliant
addition to the Elizabethan stage. At the close of the fifth
act the Ghost again comes on with a prophecy of the glorious
reign of Queen Elizabeth.

Other tragedies in classic form. The poet Samuel Daniel
made an avowed and conscious effort to overcome what he
considered the vulgarity of the non-classical plays. He pro-
duced two tragedies, Philotas and Cleopatra, which were strik-
ingly similar to the work of Garnier, being in rhymed verse,KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 103

conforming to the unities, and making free use of the Mes-
senger, even to relating the events connected with the asp and
the last moments of the heroine. Thus it will be seen that
the foremost men of letters, wits, and scholars attempted, for
more than thirty years, to support a type of drama exactly con-
trary to the genius of the nation. They sought in all sincerity
to impose the classic model upon the English play, and the
wonder is they did not succeed. In the end, their method was
repudiated by the theater-loving public; yet it was through
these followers of classicism that the lessons of design and
regularity were handed down from “Seneca his style.” The
drama was compelled to discard the crudities inherited from the
medieval sacred plays, and assume a greater dignity, coloring
and beauty. In the words of Symonds: “Their efforts
forced . . . principles of careful composition, gravity of dic-
tion, and harmonious construction, on the attention of con-
temporaneous playwrights.” They showed the young romantic
geniuses of the drama that something was of importance be-
sides the telling of a story by imitation; that it mattered su-
premely how the story was told. Furthermore, we must again
remind ourselves that it. was through these neo-classicists that
the characteristic vehicle of the romantic drama, blank verse,
was domesticated into the language.

IV. TRAGEDY oF BLoop

In spite of the gruesome nature of the themes of Gorboduc
and other tragedies written by the pseudo-classical school, the
plays themselves were far too pale and feeble for the public
taste. The classic characters talked blood but gave rhetoric,
satisfying nobody but the so-called intelligentsia of the time.
The common people, whose tastes had been formed by the
native interludes, farces and miracles, demanded more sword-
play and action. Their sensibilities were coarse and tough.
They went to the play to be thrilled, to laugh loudly, to shiver
and to wonder. Therefore they would have little to do with
the classical school of tragedy, but flocked instead to the roys-
tering comedies or to the bear-baiting spectacles, leaving the

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enjoyment of such plays as The Misfortunes of Arthur to
more aristocratic circles. About fifteen years before the end
of the sixteenth century, however, the popular demand for
thrilling plays began to be understood. Playwrights appeared
who combined the good points of the classic school with
fresher, more romantic themes. They sought out lurid stories,
reorganized the material in such a way as to fit it into the
Senecan form, grasped the importance of the element of horror,
and combined the whole in a sensational sort of play called
the tragedy of blood, which is in fact scarcely more than the
pseudo-classical tragedy with the undramatic features left out.

Locrine. The first attempt at this combination was seen in
a play called Locrine, whose author is not known with cer-
tainty, though some scholars consider it to be George Peele. It
probably was written before 1587, and the subject was taken
from the English chronicles. The general form is that of
Seneca, although the unities of time and place are disregarded.
The ghost is introduced, and the dumb show is utilized, while
the chorus plays a not very important part. Most significant
of all, however, the author gives the Messenger little to do.
Cruelties and atrocities and torments are not reported but pre-
sented before the eyes of the spectators, and emphasized by all
the devices known to the European stage. Unlike both the
ancient and the pseudo-classic tragedy, Locrine has consider-
able comic relief, with the humor inherent in the action of the
play, not inserted as in the case of the mysteries. It is scarcely
a play to admire; but it is at least founded on the true dramatic
idea that the essential part of a play is action.

The Spanish Tragedy. The outstanding example of the new
type was The Spanish Tragedy, written by Thomas Kyd and
produced about 1587. Little is known of the life of Kyd, but
it may be inferred that he was university bred since he showed
an understanding of classical mythology and used Latin verses.
The events preceding the opening of The Spanish Tragedy
were revealed in a play called The First Part of Jeronimo,
With the Warre of Portugall, and the life and death of Don
Andrea. This play has been considered by some commentators
as simply a first part of The Spanish Tragedy, also written by

en .KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 195

Kyd; but others think that some theatrical hack writer of the
time dressed up the story and passed it off as the work of
Kyd. Portions of The Spanish Tragedy have been supposed,
on the authority of certain items in the Diary of Henslowe, to
have been additions made by Ben Jonson. The question of the
authenticity of these passages is at this time a puzzle.

Kyd’s play created a sensation. The more artistic spectators
and playwrights laughed at it, but the commoners delighted
in it. A melodramatic school rose producing plays founded
on material of the wildest character, usually taken from some
medieval chronicle, and intertwined with a comic theme and
a love story. It was not the object of the playwright to em-
phasize or even consider the moral or ethical aspects of the
case, nor even to delineate character. The first importance was
given to the unfolding of the sensational story, showing as
many as possible of its cruel, mysterious, or blood-curdling
features. All this was developed within the Senecan frame-
work.

The extraordinary thing about The Spanish Tragedy was
that it exposed, as in a show window, all the wares belonging
to the school: the ghost, the romantic lovers, the fine figure of
the old man whose reason seems always on the point of slip-
ping; the beautiful but unhappy woman; poison; threats and
blows; crazy soliloquies; dirges, death-bed repentances, suicide,
murder, insanity. It is a harrowing list; but it is the virtue of
melodrama to be melodramatic. Its avowed program is exag-
geration, unbelievable incident, indifference to characteriza-
tion, and insistence upon horrors that glut the stage. In good
melodrama these elements should be thrown out with a kind
of passionate bravado; and this is precisely the quality of Kyd’s
masterpiece, which rendered it then, as now, the subject of
merriment or disgust to the cultured spectator or reader, and
the cause of excitement and thrills to the crowd. Many of the
elements mentioned above became stock features of the Eliza-
bethan drama. The half-crazy father, the romantic lovers, the
motive of revenge for a father or a son, the insinuating vil-
lain, and the play within the play,—all these are familiar today
through the work of the greater Elizabethans.196 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 11700

Other examples of the tragedy of blood followed closely
upon the success of The Spanish Tragedy. Soliman and Per-
seda, possibly by Kyd, is a five-act elaboration of the short
tragic piece interpolated in The Spanish Tragedy. Marlowe
followed the type in The Jew of Malta, besides which there
were Titus Andronicus, thought by many scholars to be the
work of an amateur touched up by Shakespeare; Lust’s
Dominion, ascribed to Marlowe, also to Dekker, Haughton and
Day; Alphonsus of Germany, by an unknown writer; Hoff-
man, by Henry Chettle; and the first Hamlet, author un-
known, the manuscript of which is lost. All these plays are,
to a greater or less extent, embodiments of the tragedy of
blood.

V. Domestic TRAGEDY

Another sort of thriller, dealing with notorious criminal
cases, appeared on the English stage near the end of the six-
teenth century. There were of course no newspapers. When
a crime was committed, it was often made the subject of pam-
phlets, sermons, and speeches; and it was set down by such
chroniclers as Holinshed and Stow. Not infrequently it be-
came the theme of a popular ballad. Curiosity concerning the
details of celebrated murder cases was as high then as now.
Henslowe? kept a few “play carpenters” in his employ; and,
when the vogue of the domestic tragedy was at its height,
these workers took all available details of a contemporaneous
murder case and out of them built up a theatrical shocker.
This species flourished especially between 1592 and 1608. Out
of the great number that must have been produced, the titles
of nine, and the text of a still smaller number, have been pre-
served.

Two examples of the domestic tragedy, Arden of Faversham
and A Warning for Fair Women, have been attributed to
Shakespeare, probably without sufficient evidence. The manu-
script of A Yorkshire Tragedy has the words “Written by W.
Shakespeare” across its title page. Scholars, however, do not
accept it as the work of Shakespeare, in spite of sundry bril-

2See note, page 236.KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 _ 197

liant passages; and the assumption is that it was ascribed to
him by an unscrupulous publisher. Two other plays may be
mentioned, one by Heywood called 4 Woman Killed with
Kindness, and Two Tragedies in One, the author of which is
supposed to be Robert Yarington—a person seemingly difficult
to identify.

Of these plays, the most powerful is Arden of Faversham,
whose story was taken from Holinshed’s Chronicles and fol-
lows the original source faithfully. The subtitle reads:

“The Lamentable and True Tragedye of Master Faversham in
Kent. Who was most wickedlye murdered, by the means of his
disloyall and wanton wyfe, who for the love she bare to one
Mosbie, hyred two desperat ruffins, Black Will and Shakbag, to
kill him. Wherin is showed the great mallice and discimulation of
a wicked woman, the unsatiable desire of filthie lust and the shame-
full end of all murderers.”

Thus the details of the plot are entirely set forth at the begin-
ning of the play. The murder actually occurred in 1552. The
play was given in 1592, was published anonymously, and re-
printed in 1770 by Edward Jacob, who made the suggestion
that it might have been written by Shakespeare in his ’prentice
days. Tieck, who translated it into German in 1823, and
Goethe both considered this the true explanation of its author-
ship. Among English critics, Swinburne was the warmest
supporter of this view; but doubt persists among modern
Shakespearean scholars.

The most noticeable feature in Arden is the rough, uncouth,
wild vigor of Arden’s wife Alice. She is a woman crazed,
almost hypnotized by her unworthy lover, but valiant, defiant,
and sincere to the end. She cries out the justification of her
love; seizes the dagger when the others bungle over it; calls
the servant a fool for his fears; and when forced to look
upon her husband’s corpse, falls into quite as sincere a re-
pentance. It needs no clairvoyant vision to detect in these
details a close relationship to some of the greatest scenes in
Othello and Macbeth.

The last notorious crime which served as a basis for this

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type of play was that of Walter Calverley, who murdered two
of his children, stabbed his wife, and started for his third child
with murderous intent. He was condemned and executed at
the Castle of York in 1605. This horrible incident was used
as the basis for two plays, A Yorkshire Tragedy, and The
Miseries of an Enforced Marriage. Before the end of the first
decade of the seventeenth century, however, the vogue of the
domestic tragedy abruptly ceased. The style had its uses,
however. Hitherto, much of the action in the English plays
had been in a sort of standardized world, not belonging to any
locality or time. Now we begin to see the creation of local
types, and the portrayal of customs which belong to a certain
class. The dumb show, the chorus, and the frigid atmosphere
of the earlier works have disappeared, and the play jumps
right into the action at the first scene. The attention of play-
wrights was now drawn to contemporaneous events and char-
acters, and the field of their observation enlarged.

VI. CHRONICLE AND History PLAY

In England, the chronicle play seems suddenly to have risen
into vogue during the last decade of the sixteenth century. At
first it was more like an epic poem than a dramatic composi-
tion, loosely constructed, covering the entire life of a king or
hero, with not even a long distance acquaintance with the
unities. Minor events were often invented, but in the more
important happenings the authors usually made an attempt to
follow history. Three plays on the subject of King John
illustrate the three stages of its development: the morality
King John, by John Bale, written sometime before the acces-
sion of Mary in 1553; a second play called The Troublesome
Reign of King John, written between 1587 and 1591; and a
third completely developed tragedy in the romantic style, the
King John of Shakespeare. The second of these pieces is a
genuine example of the chronicle play. It is written in crude
blank verse and contains a satirical episode concerning the
monastic system of the period. There is also an early True
Tragedie of Richard Third which contains allegorical figuresKINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 199

representing Truth and Poetry, is written mostly in rhymed
couplets, and has the pseudo-classic Induction in which the
ghost of Clarence walks up and down the stage crying ‘“Vin-
dicta!’ Another play on the same subject, Ricardus Tertius,
was written in Latin by a certain Dr. Legge. Two dramas of
this earlier time, The Famous Victories icf Henry Fifth and
The Contention of the Two Famous Houses of York and
Lancaster, formed the basis of Shakespeare’s Henry Fifth,
and the second and third parts of Henry Sixth respectively.
An early play called Edward Third was ascribed to Shake-
speare by Edward Capell more than a century and a half after
Shakespeare’s death; though critical opinion of to-day has not
endorsed his judgment.

The chronicle play becomes drama. In the midst of these
efforts, while the chronicle play was still in its inferior stage,
it was suddenly lifted into a position of distinction by the pro-
duction of Marlowe’s Edward Second. Its appearance was an
epoch-making event. For the first time the English history
play was pulled up into the tenseness of true drama. The
characters are bold and vivid, conceived amply as taking part
in the sweep of history. Here too is something of the power
of Marlowe’s “mighty line,” and the skill which can portray
a great figure overborne by the consequences of his own folly
Edward Second is the first fine historical drama in the English
language, and aside from the Shakespearean tragedies the best
in existence.

A long list of historical plays can be made, showing how
great was the interest of the public in the presentation of drama
dealing with the national chronicles. If the plays mentioned,
together with the English historical plays of Shakespeare,
Edward First, by Peele, Edward Fourth by Heywood, and
perhaps half a dozen others which were popular in their time,—
if these plays be taken in the chronological order of their
subjects, the reader will have an almost continuous story of
England’s rulers, with the wars in which the country was en-
mere the plots which threatened the safety of the sovereigns,
the parasites, women, generals, royal children and court jesters200 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

who made up the pageant of four centuries, from the reign
of “Kynge Johan” to the time of Elizabeth herself.

Plays about popular heroes. Sir Thomas More and The
Life and Death of Thomas Lord Cromwell are examples of
plays built upon the biography of national statesmen. It is
interesting to note that these two celebrated men, both of
whom were beheaded by order of Henry VIII, were taken as
the subjects of heroic tragedy within the century of their death,
and during the reign of Henry’s daughter. There were also,
in this period, plays founded upon the adventures of pirates
and travelers. Sir Thomas Stukeley was one of these adven-
turers, and his actual career would make almost any melodrama
seem pale. Several plays were written around his history,
one of which, The Battle of Alcazar, by Peele, contains an
account of his death. Stukeley was an imposing figure in his
time, mentioned frequently in pamphlets and ballads, one refer-
ence classing him with the “proud tragedians, Mahomet, Tam-
burlaine, and Charlemagne.”

A third group of half biographical, half legendary plays is
represented by the Robin Hood pieces, whose story is related
by Stow. At least three of some merit were produced on this
subject: The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, by An-
thony Munday; The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington, by
Munday and Chettle; and George a Greene, Pinner of Wake-
field, by an unknown author. Considering the lively and
dramatic nature of both the Stukeley and Robin Hood stories,
we find these plays not at all extraordinary, though there are
passages of real vigor and power. The picture of woodland
life, in which Robin tempts Marion to go away with him, has
more than a touch of Elizabethan delicacy and charm.

There remain the plays founded on famous characters or
events of other countries. First of these, not only in time but
also in importance, stands Marlowe’s Tamburlaine, in two
parts, produced at Newington Butts Playhouse before 1587,
when its author was twenty-three years of age or younger.
It was this play which gave the impetus to the great choir of
singers and playwrights who filled the years up to and into the
seventeenth century; and it went far towards fixing the typeKINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 201

of English historical tragedy. There is, however, in its
monstrous and elemental plan, power enough to generate a
dozen ordinary tragedies. There are touches of bombast and
absurdity, but the play as a whole is neither bombastic nor
absurd. It was not only the delight of the Elizabethan public,
but in a sense it became a standard according to which the work
of subsequent years was measured, and to which every play-
wright was more or less indebted.

VII. RoMANTIC COMEDIES AND PASTORALS

There is naturally no sharp dividing line between the ro-
mantic comedy and the pastoral. In both species the conflict
is likely to be of slight interest. The important elements are
the happy adventures, the atmosphere of gaiety and romance,
the play of wit and humor. In them Youth is glorified and
celebrated. Romantic comedy is well illustrated in the wood-
land scenes of Greene’s Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, in
As You Like It and Twelfth Night by Shakespeare. Greene
also wrote The Pleasant Comedie of Fair Em, the Miller’s
Daughter of Manchester; with the love of William the Con-
queror, produced in 1589 and 1591. According to Professor
Brooke, this play is “an inartistic medley of two plots in the two
most popular current styles.” Anthony Munday also composed
a piece somewhat in imitation of the Greene comedy called
John a Kent and John a Cumber. Munday was able to con-
struct good plots, but was quite lacking in the ability to envelop
his plays with the atmosphere of charm and romance which is
so marked in the work of Greene and Shakespeare. The best
romantic comedy, outside of Shakespeare, is an anonymous
piece called The Merry Devil of Edmonton, published in 1607.

Greene supplied the early models both for romantic and
pastoral comedy. The Amuinta of Tasso and Pastor Fido of
Guarini had appeared in book form in Italy as early as 1590
and had been promptly brought to England, where they had
attracted the attention of the courtly and aristocratic clans.
The most gifted writer of this group was Samuel Daniel,
author of the two court pastorals produced in the early years202 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

of the seventeenth century. The pastoral play, however, never
flourished in England as it had in Italy. The Faithful Shep-
herdess, by Fletcher, and the unfinished Sad Shepherd, by
Ben Jonson, are the most notable pieces of their kind. The
influence of the species is apparent, however, not only in the
minor comedies, but especially in the pleasant garden and rural
scenes which enliven the comedies of the greatest of the Eliza-
bethans.

VIII. Court CoMEpIEs AND MASQUES

There were two groups of plays which belonged neither to
the democratic, popular class, nor to the pseudo-classical species
fostered by the academic circles. One of these was the court
comedy, designed especially as a compliment to the queen; the
other was the masque, in which the aristocracy and royalty
itself took part as actors. The court comedy was in a sense
a variation, or a specialization, of the pastoral, brought into
England from Italy chiefly by John Lyly, the author of
Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit, and Euphues, His England.
Lyly produced a series of court comedies in which allegorical
and classical stories were made to veil complimentary allusions
to the queen and her court. There are eight plays which most
scholars accept as authentic, six of which were first played by
the Children of the Chapel Royal. Four of them are based on
classic subjects, with the allegory so contrived as to constitute
one colossal hymn of adulation to the queen. Elizabeth had
already become the “Virgin Queen” to her subjects, and she
had been styled Cynthia by Spenser. Lyly used the fable of
Endymion as the vehicle for one of his early panegyrics. The
sleeping Endymion was Leicester, the queen’s favorite. Out
of pity, charity, and queenly goodness she rouses him from
his entranced slumber with a kiss. Never before have her
lips been touched, nor would they ever again be soiled by such
condescension. Throughout the play the queen is gracious,
charming, and always queenly. Other characters in the allegory
could easily be identified by the coterie of spectators, and not
all of the dramatis persone were pictured with as kind a penKINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 203

as that which had drawn the lovely Cynthia. The adulation is
unmistakable, though never vulgar. The play has little plot,
but is imbued with high spirits, delicacy of taste, and graceful
poetry. Hazlitt and Keats both praised Endimion extrava-
gantly.

The successful Endimion was followed by similar plays, and
the figure of Lyly seemed for a time to dominate English
drama. All but one of his comedies are in prose. They show
no suspicion of struggle or passion, but they are imbued with
an atmosphere of sunshine and classical purity. It was Lyly
who popularized a peculiar type of gay but innocent dialogue,
used the device of putting his play into a dream setting, made
the disguise of girls as boys an amusing and harmless feature,
and still proved that such spiceless diversions could stand the
test of public performance. All these devices are familiar to
us in the work of Shekespeare, Fletcher, and Ben Jonson.
Lyly’s importance lies in the fact that he practically created
the English court comedy—a type which has no exact parallel
in any other language.

The court masque. One of the most spectacular entertain-
ments of the nobility was the masque, introduced into England
from Italy by Henry VIII as early as 1512. The first requi-
site for the masque was a pleasant and entertaining story in
verse, preferably with mythological or allegorical characters.
There was of course some dialogue and declamation, but these
matters were relatively unimportant. Far more significant were
the tableaux, music, the ballet, the elaborate settings, the gor-
geous costumes and scenery, stage appliances, and surprises in
mechanical effects. The actors were members of the aris-
tocracy, sometimes of the royal family. They wore masks,
spent huge sums upon their costumes, and lent their halls and
treasures of art to enrich the scenes. Little else was required
of them, as actors, but to look beautiful and stately, The
success of the masque depended upon the architect, the scene
painter, decorator, and ballet master. In the course of time
considerable importance was given also to singing and instru-
mental music.

The cost of these accessories was too great to permit masque204 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

production in the public theaters, even supposing they had been
acceptable to the taste of the populace; and during the reigns
of Henry VIII and Elizabeth, royal ideas of economy forbade
the lavish display which had characterized the masque in Italy.
With the accession of the Stuarts, however, this form of
theatrical display took on a new importance. James I and his
son Charles were willing to spend a good deal of the country’s
money upon them. Among the poets engaged to write masque
librettos were Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, and most of the
other talented writers of the day. Ben Jonson was first of all,
not only in point of time but in genius. He became poet
laureate, and devoted his amazing learning, his theatrical sense,
and his gift for charming lyrics to the work of perfecting the
masque. With him, as manager and stage director, worked the
artist, Inigo Jones; also a director of chorus, a dance master,
and a composer for instruments. The court musicians num-
bered as many as fifty-eight persons, and neither time nor ex-
pense was spared in their training. Not only the court, but
noblemen wishing to compliment royalty, arranged for these en-
tertainments. The courts of the Inner Temple, Gray’s Inn, and
such societies, vied with each other in the lavishness of their
productions. The king and queen, each, provided a masque at
Christmas. There remain more than thirty examples of this
sort of play written during the reigns of James I and Charles
I. In 1634 there was given at Whitehall, in the royal banquet
room, by the members of the various Inns of Court, a masque
called The Triumph of Peace, designed by Inigo Jones and
written by Shirley, for which the cost amounted to more than
one hundred thousand dollars. This was but fourteen years
before the tragic end of Charles and the abolition of such
extravagant gaieties.

IX. Tue ATrirupE oF THE CRITICS

By the last quarter of the sixteenth century the theater was
within reach of nearly all classes: and, in the end, it was the
public, not the court, which set the fashion. The Elizabethan
public liked strong colors, passions torn to tatters, and mouth-KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700 205

filling, passionate lines, More and more the classic models
were disregarded, while the romantic spirit took the lead with
extravagant situations, a riot of action, a wealth of fancy.
According to Collier’s published list of the minutes of the
Court Revels between 1568 and 1580, fifty-two plays were
given, not one of which is now in existence, so far as is known.
They were written by authors who could not or would not
afford the luxury of having their work printed. Among the
lost manuscripts is the first stage version of Romeo and Juliet,
made before 1562; a dramatization of Boccaccio’s Tancred and
Gismunda, made as early as 1563; and an English version of a
play by the Italian Cinthio, Promos and Cassandra, made by
George Whetstone. The latter play was used in part by
Shakespeare in Measure for Measure.

It is instructive to note the attitude of critics towards the
“new” departure in drama. Stephen Gosson, critic and actor,
asserted that “immoral comedies of Latin, French, Spanish and
Italian had been wransacked to furnish the playhouses of
London.” He charged the playwrights with distorting history
in order to show forth exciting scenes: “So was the history
of Cesar and Pompey, and the play of the Fabii at the The-
ater, both amplified there where the drums might walk or the
pen ruffle.” In short, Gosson accused the playwrights of treat-
ing the ancient subjects in the romantic manner. Whetstone,
in his preface to Promos and Cassandra, played in 1578, held
up the classical model and compared contemporary plays with
it, much to the disadvantage of the new species. He said also
that the Italian writers of comedies were so lascivious as to
make honest people grieve; that the French and Spanish
authors followed in the steps of the Italian; that the German
plays were too serious and “holy” ; and that English writers for
the stage took any liberties they liked, provided only they got
a laugh.

Among all the critics of the time, however, the most famous
was Sir Philip Sidney, who died in 1586. His pamphlet, 4
Defence of Poesy, was printed in 1595, though probably writ-
ten a dozen years earlier. He said that Gorboduc was the
model for all tragedy, saving only in the one particular that it

een TG Dra

:206 KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

did not conform to the unities of time and place; but that it
was well-nigh perfect in spite of this defect. All other plays
of the time were full of vulgar errors: discrepancies of plot,
absurd changes of scene, and an impossible prolongation of
time. He called attention to the manner in which Euripides
had handled dramatic situations, beginning with the last cul-
minating incident; whereas the writers of his own day must
needs start ab ovo and recount the whole long series of events.
How much better, said Sidney, to use the Messenger, as the
ancients did! “The dullest wit may conceive it!” He went on
to complain that the plays of his own day mixed up comic
and tragic matter, associated kings with clowns, “‘so that we
have nothing but scurrility, unworthy of our chaste ears; or
some extreme of doltishness, indeed fit to lift up a loud
laughter, and nothing else; where the whole tract of a comedy
should be full of delight, as the tragedy should be still main-
tained in well raised admiration.” These criticisms were all
written before Shakespeare or Marlowe had become known;
and they show, if anything, not that educated opinion is
always wrong, but that it is constitutionally timid and con-
servative.CHAPTER XXII

ELIZABETHAN PLAYHOUSES, ACTORS, AND
AUDIENCES

This populace that watched with joy the cruel torment of a bear
or the execution of a Catholic, also delighted in the romantic
comedies of Shakespeare. This people, so appallingly credulous
and ignorant, so brutal, childish, so mercurial compared with Eng-
lishmen of today, yet set the standard of national greatness. This
absurdly decorated gallant could stab a rival in the back, or write
a penitential lyric. Each man presented strange, almost inex-
plicable, contrasts in character, as Bacon or Raleigh, or Elizabeth
herself. The drama mingles its sentiment and fancy with horrors
and bloodshed; and no wonder, for poetry was no occupation of
the cloister. Read the lives of the poets—Surrey, Wyatt, Sidney,
Spenser, Raleigh, Marlowe, Jonson—and of these, only Spenser
and Jonson died in their beds, and Ben had killed his man in a

duel. . . . Crime, meanness, and sexual depravity often appear in
the closest juxtaposition with imaginative idealism, intellectual
freedom, and moral grandeur. ...—NEILSON and THORNDIKE,

Facts About Shakespeare.

The theater as a public amusement was an innovation in the
social life of the Elizabethans, and it immediately took the
general fancy. Like that of Greece or Spain, it developed
with amazing rapidity. London’s first theater was built when
Shakespeare was about twelve years old; and the whole sys-
tem of the Elizabethan theatrical world came into being during
his lifetime. The great popularity of plays of all sorts led to
the building of playhouses both public and private, to the
organization of innumerable companies of players both ama-
teur and professional, and to countless difficulties connected
with the authorship and licensing of plays. Companies of
actors were kept at the big baronial estates of Lord Oxford,
Lord Buckingham and others. Many strolling troupes went

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about the country playing wherever they could find welcome.
They commonly consisted of three, or at most four men and a
boy, the latter to take the women’s parts. They gave their
plays in pageants, in the open squares of the town, in the halls
of noblemen and other gentry, or in the courtyards of inns.

Regulation and licensing of plays. The control of these
various companies soon became a problem to the community.
Some of the troupes, which had the impudence to call them-
selves “Servants” of this or that lord, were composed of low
characters, little better than vagabonds, causing much trouble
to worthy citizens. The sovereign attempted to regulate mat-
ters by granting licenses to the aristocracy for the maintenance
of troupes of players, who might at any time be required to
show their credentials. For a time it was also a rule that these
performers should appear only in the halls of their patrons;
but this requirement, together with many other regulations,
was constantly ignored. The playwrights of both the Roman
and the Protestant faith used the stage as a sort of forum for
the dissemination of their opinions; and it was natural that
such practices should often result in quarrels and disturbances.
During the reign of Mary, the rules were strict, especially
those relating to the production of such plays as The Four Pas:
on the ground that they encouraged too much freedom of
thought and criticism of public affairs. On the other hand,
during this period the performance of the mysteries was urged,
as being one of the means of teaching true religion.

Elizabeth granted the first royal patent to the Servants of
the Earl of Leicester in 1574. These “Servants” were James
Burbage and four partners; and they were empowered to play
“comedies, tragedies, interludes, stage-plays and other such-
like” in London and in all other towns and boroughs in the
realm of England; except that no representation could be
given during the time for Common Prayer, or during a time
of “great and common Plague in our said city of London.”
Under Elizabeth political and religious subjects were forbidden
on the stage.

Objections to playhouses. In the meantime, respectable
people and officers of the Church frequently made complaintACTORS, AND AUDIENCES 209

of the growing number of play-actors and shows. They said
that the plays were often lewd and profane, that play-actors
were mostly vagrant, irresponsible, and immoral people; that
taverns and disreputable houses were always found in the
neighborhood of the theaters, and that the theater itself was a
public danger in the way of spreading disease. The streets
were overcrowded after performances; beggars and loafers
infested the theater section, crimes occurred in the crowd, and
’prentices played truant in order to go to the play. These and
other charges were constantly being renewed, and in a measure
they were all justly founded. Elizabeth’s policy was to com-
promise. She regulated the abuses, but allowed the players to
thrive. One order for the year 1576 prohibited all theatrical
performances within the city boundaries ; but it was not strictly
enforced. The London Corporation generally stood against
the players; but the favor of the queen and nobility, added to
the popular taste, in the end proved too much for the Corpora-
tion. Players were forbidden to establish themselves in the
city, but could not be prevented from building their playhouses
just across the river, outside the jurisdiction of the Corpora-
tion and yet within easy reach of the play-going public.

This compromise, however, did not end the criticism of the
public. Regulations and restrictions were constantly being im-
posed or renewed; and, no doubt, as constantly broken. In
the end this intermittent hostility to the theater acted as a sort
of beneficent censorship. The more unprincipled of the actors
and playwrights were held in check by the fear of losing what
privileges they had, while the men of ability and genius found
no real hindrance to their activity. Whatever the reason, the
English stage was far purer and more wholesome than either
the French or Italian stage in the corresponding era of devel-
opment. However much in practice the laws were evaded or
broken, the drama maintained a comparatively manly and
decent standard. There was no Calandra, no Aretino or
Machiavelli of the Elizabethan stage.

Companies of actors. In 1578 six companies were granted
permission by special order of the queen to perform plays.
They were the Children of the Chapel Royal, Children of210 ELIZABETHAN PLAYHOUSES,

Saint Paul’s, the Servants of the Lord Chamberlain, Servants
of Lords Warwick, Leicester, and Essex. The building of
playhouses outside the city had already begun in 1576. One of
the popular catches of the day runs:

List unto my ditty!

Alas, the more the pity,

From Troynovant’s old city
The Aldermen and Mayor
Have driven each poor player.

This banishment was not a misfortune, but one of the causes
of immediate growth. There was room for as many theaters
as the people desired; a healthy rivalry was possible. In
Shoreditch were built the Theater and the Curtain. At Black-
friars the Servants of Lord Leicester had their house, modeled
roughly after the courtyard of an inn, and built of wood.
Twenty years later it was rebuilt by a company which num-
bered Shakespeare among its members. In the meantime, the
professional actor gained something in the public esteem, and
occasionally became a recognized and solid member of society.
Theatrical companies were gradually transformed from ir-
regular associations of men dependent on the favor of a lord,
to stable business organizations; and in time the professional
actor and the organized company triumphed completely over
the stroller and the amateur.

Playhouses. The number of playhouses steadily increased.
Besides the three already mentioned, there were in Southwark
the Hope, the Rose, the Swan, and Newington Butts, on whose
stage The Jew of Malta, the first Hamlet, The Taming of the
Shrew, and Tamburlaine had their premiéres. At the Red Bull
some of John Heywood’s plays appeared. Most famous of all
were the Globe, built in 1598 by Richard Burbage, and the
Fortune, built in 1599. The Globe was hexagonal without,
circular within, a roof extending over the stage only. The
audience stood in the yard, or pit, or sat in the boxes built
around the walls. Sometimes the young gallants sat on the
stage. The first Globe was burned in 1613 and rebuilt by
King James and some of his noblemen. It was this theaterACTORS, AND AUDIENCES 211

which, in the latter part of their career, was used by Shake-
speare and Burbage in summer. In winter they used the
Blackfriars in the city. At the end of the reign of Elizabeth
there were eleven theaters in London, including public and
private houses. Various members of the royal family were
the ostensible patrons of the new companies. The boys of the
choirs and Church schools were trained in acting; and some-
times they did better than their elders.

Composition and ownership of plays. Scholars and critics
have inherited an almost endless number of literary puzzles
from the Elizabethan age. A play might be written, handed
over to the manager of a company of actors, and produced with
or without the author’s name. In many instances the author
forgot or ignored all subsequent affairs connected with it. If
changes were required, perhaps it would be given to some well
known playwright to be “doctored” before the next production.
Henslowe, who had an interest in several London theaters, con-
tinuously employed playwrights, famous and otherwise, in
working out new, promising material for his actors. Most
dramatists of the time served an apprenticeship, in which they
did anything they were asked to do. Sometimes they made the
first draft of a piece which would be finished by a more experi-
enced hand; sometimes they collaborated with another writer;
or they gave the finishing touches to a new play; or revamped
a Spanish, French, or Italian piece in an attempt to make it
more suitable for the London public.

The plays were the property, not of the author, but of the
acting companies. Aside from the costly costumes, they
formed the most valuable part of the company’‘s capital. The
parts were learned by the actors, and the manuscript locked up.
If the piece became popular, rival managers often stole it by
sending to the performance a clerk who took down the lines in
shorthand. Neither authors nor managers had any protection
from pirate publishers, who frequently issued copies of suc-
cessful plays without the consent of either. Many cases of
missing or mutilated scenes, faulty lines or confused grammar
may be laid to the doors of these copy brigands. In addition
to this, after the play had had a London success, it was cut212 ELIZABETHAN PLAYHOUSES,

down, both in length and in the number of parts, for the use
of strolling players——a fact which of course increased the
chances of mutilation.

Performances. Public performances generally took place
in the afternoon, beginning about three o’clock and lasting per-
haps two hours. Candles were used when daylight began to
fade. The beginning of the play was announced by the hoist-
ing of a flag and the blowing of a trumpet. There were play-
bills, those for tragedy being printed in red. Often after a
serious piece a short farce was also given; and at the close of
the play the actors, on their knees, recited an address to the
king or queen. The price of entrance varied with the theater,
the play, and the actors; but it was roughly a penny to sixpence
for the pit, up to half a crown (about sixty cents) for a box.
A three-legged stool on the stage at first cost sixpence extra;
but this price was later doubled.

The house itself was not unlike a circus, with a good deal
of noise and dirt. Servants, grooms, ’prentices and mechanics
jostled each other in the pit, while more or less gay companies
filled the boxes. Women of respectability were few, yet some-
times they did attend; and if they were very careful of their
reputations they wore masks. On the stage, which ran far
out into the auditorium, would be seated a few of the early
gallants, playing cards, smoking, waited upon by their pages;
and sometimes eating nuts or apples and throwing things out
among the crowd. At first there was little music, but soon
players of instruments were added to the company. The stage
was covered with straw or rushes. There may have been a
painted wall with trees and hedges, or a castle interior with
practicable furniture. A placard announced the scene. Stage
machinery seems never to have been out of use, though in the
early Elizabethan days it was probably primitive. The audi-
ence was near and could view the stage from three sides, so
that no “picture” was possible, as in the tennis-court stage of
Paris. Whatever effects were gained were the result of the
gorgeous and costly costumes of the actors, together with the
art and skill with which they were able to invest their roles.
The inn-court type of stage required a bold, declamatoryACTORS, AND AUDIENCES 213

method in acting and speaking; and these requirements were
no doubt speedily reflected in the style of the playwrights.

England was the last of the European countries to accept
women on the stage. In the year 1629 a visiting company of
French players gave performances at Blackfriars, with ac-
tresses. An English writer of the time called these women
“monsters” ; and the audience would have none of them. They
were hissed and “pippin-pelted” from the stage. Boy actors
were immensely popular, and the schools were actually the
training ground for many well known comedians and trage-
dians. The stigma of dishonor rested, however, upon the
whole profession, playwrights, players, and on the theater
itself. The company in the pit was rough, likely to smell of
garlic and to indulge in rude jests. The plays were often
coarse and boisterous, closely associated with bear-baiting
and cock-fighting. Playwrights and actors belonged to a
bohemian, half lawless class. The gallants who frequented
the play led fast lives, and were constantly charged with the
corruption of innocence.

Comparison between an Elizabethan and an Athenian per-
formance affords interesting contrasts and similarities. The
Athenian festival was part of an important religious service,
for which men of affairs gave their time and money. Every
sort of governmental support was at its disposal, and manu-
scripts were piously preserved. All this was contrary to the
practice of the Elizabethans, who tried to suppress the shows,
lost many of their most precious manuscripts, and banished the
plays to a place outside the city walls. In both countries,
however, the audiences were made up of all classes of people
who freely expressed their liking or disapproval. In each
country the period of dramatic activity followed close upon the
heels of great military and naval victories: and the plays of
both countries reflect the civic and national pride.

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1CHAPTER XXIII
THE SCHOLAR POETS

The romantic, as opposed to the classical, school of dramatists,
were right in their perception that not ethical wisdom and not
description, but action, was the one thing needful to their art.
They saw that the drama... must present human life in all its
possible fullness, vigour and variety; must portray and develop
character; must combine events into a single movement with a
climax and a catastrophe—J. A. Symonps, Shakspere’s Prede-
cessors in the English Drama.

Grouped together, the various kinds of plays which existed
in England in the last quarter of the sixteenth century form a
remarkable body of stage literature. It is both brilliant and
vigorous. Emerson said that “the rude, warm blood of the
living England circulated” in the Elizabethan plays. When
Shakespeare came to London, probably about 1585 or 1586,
the field of dramatic writing was occupied by men of consider-
able education, who called themselves “gentlemen” according to
English caste and birth. They were also gifted as poets. The
members of this group have been variously styled the Bo-
hemians, the early Elizabethans, the University Wits, the
Scholar Poets.

Lyly, 1552-1601, Kyd and Lodge. The first of the scholar
poets to come to London to try his fortune was John Lyly, the
author of Euphues, noted in an earlier chapter as inaugurating
a new fashion both in language and in plays. He stands a little
apart from the main group of University Wits in that he was
essentially a courtier, with an orderly habit of life and mind.
His plays were presented before the queen and her circle, not
on the public stage. He was fastidious, a dilettante in the arts,
with a talent exactly suited to the demands of the polite world
in and near the royal court.

214THE SCHOLAR POETS 215

Kyd and Lodge also stand a little apart, in temperament and
in education, from the main company of scholar poets. The
rampant and lurid genius of Thomas Kyd was often coupled
with that of Marlowe, but he was probably not a university
man. He was born in London in 1558, was a fellow student
at the Merchant Taylor’s School with Spenser and Lodge, and
died in London in poverty about eight years after the success
of his Spanish Tragedy. Thomas Lodge, the son of a bar-
onet (always a little ashamed of his profession), collaborated
with Greene in The Wounds of Civil War, and also wrote
romances after the Spanish style. After considerable travel
he settled in London, studied medicine and became a reputable
doctor of physic, living until 1625. All the other members of
the bohemian group died before the end of the sixteenth cen-
tury either in youth or in early middle life.

Robert Greene. 1561-1592. The four friends, Marlowe,
Greene, Peele and Nash were closely connected by ties of
friendship and companionship in work. All but Marlowe were
well born; all were highly educated and gifted as poets. To-
gether they led a life defiantly unconventional, passionate and
roystering, of the sort which has since been named “bohemian.”
Greene was the first of the four to come to London, and was
in a sense the center of the group. He was Master of Arts
from Cambridge, possibly a clergyman of the Anglican Church,
and first became popular through his prose romances adapted
or imitated from the Italian. On one of these tales, Pandosto,
Shakespeare later founded his Winter’s Tale. In his way
Greene was an innovator. He was extraordinarily quick in
sensing the popular tendency and turning it to account in his
plays. Many of his works perished in the London fire of
1666. His extant plays were all written after the appearance
of Marlowe’s Tamburlaine, and show the influence both of
Marlowe and of Lyly. He first attempted heroic pieces in
the manner of Marlowe. The Comicall Historie of Alphonsus,
King of Arragon, had some success, but is of little dramatic
merit. He versified the Orlando Furioso of Ariosto, and with
Lodge wrote The Miseries of Civil War, a History of Marius
and Sylla,and A Looking Glass for London. The latter, under216 THE SCHOLAR POETS

cover of the story of Jonah and Nineveh, satirizes the local
morals and customs. In James the Fourth, King of Scotland,
Greene made use of the device, already ancient, of putting a
person to sleep and making the play appear like a dream. A
variation of this scheme was the encountering of some magic
adventure in a wood, or meeting a conjuror who called forth
strange happenings. These devices had already been used by
Lyly, by Heywood, and by the unknown author of the first
version of The Taming of the Shrew.

Greene’s most attractive gift was in the field of romantic
and pastoral comedy. In Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay he
dramatized in part an old English legend of a necromancer-
friar, combined it with a love story, and showed himself at his
best. Up to 1589 all his plays had been written in rhymed
verse, and he publicly announced himself as disapproving of
the “unscholarly” blank verse. Later, seeing the sudden and
overwhelming popularity of this form, he adopted it. Although
he could write clear and flowing English both in prose and
verse, his language was sometimes pompous and bombastic,
sometimes in Lyly’s euphuistic style. He had, however, an
authentic gift of poetry; and he showed considerable skill in
contriving incidents full of humor, variety and interest.

Greene left a number of autobiographical writings, which
reveal not only the miserable and degraded existence he himself
led, but also the unenviable position of men of letters of his
time. He declared, with a kind of disjointed, passionate sin-
cerity, that he lived a “lewd life and practiced such villany as
is abominable to declare.” He said he learned all the villanies
under heaven in Italy, where “gluttony with drunkenness was
my only delight.” He was not above petty thievery, he aban-
doned his wife and child, contracted a disgraceful disease and
died a disgraceful death, in debt to his landlady and at war
with society in general. Nevertheless, he was careful to insist
upon his birth as a “gentleman” and his standing as a Uni-
versity Master of Arts. In his last days he taunted Shake-
speare not only with plagiarism but also with his lack of birth
and education. On his deathbed he called his friends about
him—Marlowe, “famous gracer of tragedians”, Nash “thatTHE SCHOLAR PORTS 217

biting satirist”, and Peele “in nothing inferior” to the other
two—and urged them to abandon the theater. He said to
them, in effect, that though he and they, gentlemen and schol-
ars, had founded the English drama and had hitherto enjoyed
almost a monopoly in writing for it, yet now others, who had
no right to do so, had imitated them and driven them out.
He scoffed at actors as puppets, grooms, peasants, painted
monsters. Famous as he had been and still was, he was out
of tune with his world. He could turn out a play or a pam-
phlet almost overnight, and was much in demand by both
theater managers and publishers, who paid him well. Yet he
was so far outdone by his immediate followers in sincerity,
earnestness and intensity of thought, that to-day, in compari-
son with Marlowe, Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, he seems
thin and strangely unreal.

George Peele. 1558-1598. In 1579 George Peele was gradu-
ated from Oxford, where he had come into notice through his
arrangements of pageants. In 1584, the year which saw the
production of Lyly’s Alexander and Campaspe, Peele appeared
in London with a pastoral play for the court which he called
The Arraignment of Paris. In this piece Peele is probably at
his best; and although it is in the vein of Lyly, yet it is in no
wise an imitation. The allegorical, complimentary style was
in the air, and authors often found such writings an easy road
to success. Under the superficial design there are evidences
of dignity, a feeling for harmony and graceful power. In
Edward First Peele attempted the chronicle play; and in it he
was guilty of slandering Queen Eleanor, the wife of ‘“Long-
shanks.” In The Battle of Alcazar he essayed the tragedy
of blood, but produced little more than a bombastic melodrama.
Hamet, a character in Alcazar, gives an epitome of the lust for
murder, which characterized this type of play. He says:

Sith they begin to bathe in blood,

Such slaughter with my weapon will I make,
As through the stream and bloody channels deep
Our moors shall sail in ships and pinnaces,
From Tangire shores unto the gates of Fez.

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The dumb show? was used, also the Presenter, who ap-
peared on the stage preceding each act, and explained what
was coming. In the last act of Alcazar the figure of Thomas
Stukeley appears, giving an opportunity for flag-waving and
the expression of national hero worship. In The Old Wives’
Tale there was a rather delicate satire on the conventional
idea of chivalry and generosity in love—ideas which had been
freely used in the pastoral plays and were becoming thread-
bare. In David and Bathsabe, written in euphuistic language,
Peele used the Jewish theme of the sins of the fathers being
visited upon the children. The play is filled with oriental
imagery, but it is essentially a morality surviving out of
season.

Thomas Nash. 1567-1601. Another of Greene’s immediate
circle, Nash, was of more importance as a lampoonist and
writer of pamphlets than as a dramatist. As a satirist, he
vanquished nis opponents by ridicule and abuse rather than by
argument. He was called Juvenal, the English Aretino, and
“railing Nash.” Tradition says that he was one of the com-
pany at the carouse which suddenly ended Marlowe’s life. He
defended his friend’s reputation after death against learned
and powerful enemies. His fame as a dramatist rests upon
three plays. The first, never published, is a political satire
called The Isle of Dogs, and caused its author to be put into
jail. The second is Queen Dido, written with Marlowe; and
the third Summer’s Last Will and Testament, a sort of court
pastoral, embodying an elaborate play upon the word Summer.
It contains a long parody of euphuism, besides a masquerading
show passing in procession before the queen, upon which the
court fool makes witty comments. As was the universal cus-
tom, in Summer’s Last Will the queen is extravagantly praised :

“Unto Eliza, that most sacred name,
Whom none but saints and angels ought to name.”

Christopher Marlowe. 1564-1593. The greatest of this
group was Marlowe, the immediate forerunner of Shakespeare,
and the only one of the company who bears comparison with

1A pantomimic rehearsal of the action which was to follow.THE SCHOLAR POETS 219

him. “Kit” Marlowe was the son of a shoemaker of Canter-
bury, born a few weeks before Shakespeare. He became a
pensioner in Benet College, Cambridge, where he took his
Master’s degree in 1587, before which time his Tamburlaine
had been presented in London. Coming to the city, he gained
immediate fame as a dramatist and poet, writing for the
Admiral’s company. Even in those easy times he was declared
an atheist and looked upon as one who lived a life of de-
bauchery, though he seems never to have sunk so low as
Greene. He was killed in a quarrel over a love affair in a
tavern at Deptford in 1593.

Various traditions portray Marlowe as mild and kind-
hearted. The book-seller Thorpe, in the dedication of a trans-
lation of Lucan, wrote: “To the memory of that pure, ele-
mental wit, Chr. Marlowe.” Stopford Brooke wrote of him:
“Marlowe lived and died an irreligious, imaginative, tender-
hearted, licentious poet.” Of all the characterizations that
have been made of him, none seems so full of the genius of
intuition as that of Swinburne, who said that Marlowe came
up to London to seek his fortune “a boy in years, a man in
genius, a god in ambition.” The line

“Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?”

from Marlowe’s poem Hero and Leander is quoted by Shake-
speare; and again, in As You Like It, Marlowe is addressed
in the lines beginning “Dead Shepherd.” The youthful
roysterer was remarkably prolific. In six years he produced
six tragedies, the poem Hero and Leander,’ and one unfinished
play. Tamburlaine, in two parts, belongs to the group of
chronicles. After Tamburlaine there followed Doctor Faustus,
The Massacre of Paris, The Jew of Malta, and Edward Sec-
ond. The unfinished tragedy, on the subject of Queen Dido,
was completed by Nash.

The Faust legend. The Faustiad, or Faust legend, is one
of the few folk tales which can be traced from its first ap-
pearance through almost every stage of its development. The
idea of a man’s selling his soul to the devil for some immediate
pleasure had appeared during the Middle Ages in more than

2 Incomplete, later finished by Chapman.

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one mystery, notably in the Miracle of Theophilus. The Faust
story, however, has for its historical basis the career of a
quack doctor or necromancer who lived in Suabia in the fif-
teenth century. This Doctor Faustus gained notoriety as a
professor of magic. It is probable that the history of the
celebrated Paracelsus, mystic, philosopher, and experimenter
in the occult sciences in the early sixteenth century, may have
been combined or confused with that of the original Doctor
Faustus.

The earliest known story of Faust dates from 1587. It was
written in German by an unknown author who made no pre-
tense to literary skill. According to this version, Doctor Faust
is a sensualist who prefers twenty-four years of happiness
now to the uncertain joys of a future world. He is benighted,
credulous, well acquainted with the demonological lore of the
age, though he scoffs at the reality of a hell. Nevertheless,
given the opportunity, he makes his bargain, enjoys his twenty-
four years of earthly happiness, and then goes to hell, according
to agreement.

Even in the unliterary form in which it was first told, the
story must have had a sinister glamour. Faust is represented
as “taking eagles’ wings to himself and proposing to fathom
all the depths of earth and heaven.” To the dullest imagina-
tion he is something of a lordly sinner. The story became so
popular that in the space of eleven years five different editions
were published in Germany, and a continuation called the
Wagnerbuch was added to it. As early as 1588 it had traveled
to England, where a Faust ballad appeared. Marlowe’s trag-
edy, Doctor Faustus, was completed either in 1589 or 1590,
and went back to Germany, where it held the stage all through
the seventeenth and up to the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury. No copy of this German version has been preserved ; but
from contemporary accounts it appears to have been well sup-
plied with devils, striking scenes of necromancy and magic, and
thrilling lines. As it lost its attraction for living actors, it was
transferred to the puppet show. Even in this form, the story
had some power. Lessing, the greatest critic of the eight-
eenth century, commented upon its dramatic possibilities; andTHE SCHOLAR POETS 221

it was through a puppet show that the story first became known
to the youthful Goethe.

Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. Marlowe followed the Faust
book closely in its surface arrangement. His play is not di-
vided into acts or scenes; it has no female characters, no dumb
show. The serious incidents are varied with passages of some-
what childish drolleries and buffoonery. The theme, as Mar-
lowe conceived it, was the revolt of man against the limitations
of human knowledge and power. There are many features
closely akin to the morality. The struggle between the good
and the bad angels is similar, but the arena had broadened
to include man’s intellectual and spiritual life, the realms of
science, the history of thought, and the possibilities of man’s
power. Rupert Brooke expressed it: “Faust is but Everyman
with a name and a university degree.”

Characteristics of Marlowe’s work. Each one of Marlowe’s
plays is, in a sense, a tour de force, a special creation. The
Jew of Malta, Dido, and The Massacre of Paris, though
abounding in passages of strength yet do not fulfill the require-
ments the author himself had set up. The Jew, however, was
very popular, being performed thirty-six times in four years,
which in those days was an unusual record. Marlowe’s first
and most important service to drama was the improvement of
blank verse. Greene had condemned its use as being un-
scholarly ; Sackville and Norton had used it, but were not able
to lift it above the commonplace. In their work, it usually
consisted of isolated lines, one following another, with no
grouping according to thought. All the verses were made
after one rhythmic pattern, with the same number of feet and
the ceesura always in the same place. Marlowe invented num-
berless variations while still keeping the satisfying rhythm
within a recurring pattern. Sometimes he left a redundant
syllable, or left the line one syllable short, or moved the posi-
tion of the cesura. He grouped his lines according to the
thought and adapted his various rhythms to the ideas. Thus
blank verse became a living organism, plastic, brilliant, and
finished.

Marlowe’s second-best gift to drama was his conception of

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the heroic tragedy built on a grand scale, with the three-fold
unity of character, impression, and interest, instead of the arti-
ficial unities of time and place. Before his time tragedies were
built either according to the loose style of the chronicle, or
within the mechanical framework of the Senecan model; but
in either case the dramatic unity attained by the Greeks was
lacking. Marlowe and Shakespeare, with their disregard of the
so-called classic rules, were in fact much nearer the spirit of
fEschylus and Sophocles than the slavish followers of the
pseudo-classic schools. Marlowe painted gigantic ambitions,
desires for impossible things, longings for a beauty beyond
earthly conception, and sovereigns destroyed by the very pow-
ers which had raised them to their thrones. Tamburlaine,
Faust, Barabbas are the personifications of arrogance, ambi-
tion and greed. There is sometimes a touch of the extrava-
gant or bombastic, or even of the puerile in his plays, for he
had no sense of humor; nor had he the ability to portray a
woman. He wrote no drama on the subject of love. Further-
more, his world is not altogether our world, but a remote field
of the imagination. Mr. Cabell has remarked that “in Mar-
lowe’s superb verse there is very little to indicate that the
writer had ever encountered any human beings.”* In spite of
this, he was great, both as dramatist and poet. His short life,
the haste of his work, the irregularities of his habits,—these
things combined to keep him from perfecting the creations of
his imagination. Taken together, his plays imposed a standard
upon all succeeding theatrical compositions. Before him, in
England, there was no play of great importance; but after him,
and based upon his work as a model, rose the greatest drama
of English history.

8 James Branch Cabell, Beyond Life.CHAPTER XXIV
SHAKESPEARE

The tragedies: They are no mere poems. We could imagine we
were standing before the gigantic Book of Fate, through which
the hurricane of life was raging, and violently blowing the leaves
to and fro.—GoETHE.

Shakespeare, by his freedom and spontaneity and resource, has
succeeded, perhaps better than any other writer, in giving a voice
and a body to those elusive moments of thought and feeling which
are the life of humanity . . . the generations who have come after
him, and have read his book, and have loved him with an unalter-
able personal affection, must each, as they pass the way that he
went, pay him their tribute of praise. His living brood have sur-
vived him, to be the companions and friends of men and women
as yet unborn.—Sir WALTER RALEIGH.

To any English speaking person, at least, Shakespeare must
stand as the climax and peak of historical drama. His
thoughts, phrases and people have permeated our thoughts and
language, until we are no longer always conscious of his pres-
ence. Everybody knows something of Shylock, of Portia, of
Hamlet and of Macbeth. We have only to remember how com-
monplace and banal some of the joke-phrases are: What’s in
a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet;
Lay on, Macduff! Sweet are the uses of adversity; To be or
not to be; Can honor set a leg? A poor thing, but mine own,—
and a hundred other common sayings, to realize how their au-
thor has stamped himself upon English speech and thought.
The plays, taken as a whole, have grown into a kind of Scrip-
ture, a Book, whose various chapters are all about one subject,
human nature. The very universality of Shakespearean catch-
words makes the poet seem unreal and impersonal. It is only
by going to the plays and finding in them the amusing, in-
structive, or appealing story, that we can make him seem real,

223

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F224 SHAKESPEARE

living, and human. We come, little by little, to see that this
man of myriad fancies was a struggling, often puzzled, often
weary human being, like ourselves. We learn to know that he
was a hard worker in his profession, that he was thrown by
destiny into an environment full of rivalries, disappointments,
and difficulties. Out of these he made his Book.

William Shakespeare. 1564-1616. The known facts of
Shakespeare’s life, few as they are, are yet rather more numer-
ous than those concerning most of the other playwrights of his
time. Stratford-on-Avon, at the time of Shakespeare’s birth,
was a village of about two thousand inhabitants, somewhat off
the main routes of travel, eighty miles from London. John
Shakespeare, father of William and resident of Stratford, is
reported to have been at one time a farmer doing business in
hides and meats. His wife was Mary Arden, rather an heiress
for her time, who brought into the family a house and fifty
acres of land. Two girls were born and died in infancy. Wil-
liam, the third child, was baptized the twenty-sixth of April,
1564. The day of his birth is unknown, but is usually reck-
oned as three days earlier than his baptism. Five other chil-
dren were born to John and Mary Shakespeare, and for a time
the family prospered. When William was about four years
old the father became bailiff, or mayor, of Stratford, and
seems to have occupied other positions of prominence in the
community. In all probability William went to the free gram-
mar school of the town; but when he was about thirteen years
old the father got into financial difficulties, and William, ap-
parently, was taken out of school and put to work at home.
In 1582 the license for the marriage of William Shakespeare
and Anne Hathaway was entered in the town records. Three
children, Susanna, the eldest, and twins, Hamnet and Judith,
were born to the couple. Hamnet lived only about eleven years,
but the two daughters survived their father.

After the birth of the twins, there follows a long gap in the
authentic records. There is ground, however, for believing
that William, leaving his family at Stratford, went up to Lon-
don about 1586. At that time Queen Elizabeth had already
reigned twenty-eight years, and London had grown rich andSHAKESPEARE 225

prosperous. The city spread loosely along the north side of
the Thames, and had about two hundred thousand inhabitants.
Wealthy merchants had built fine houses to the west and south;
but the fields at the north and the precincts across the river
were rather disreputable. It was in those sections that the
first theaters—The Theater, the Curtain, and the remodeled
house known as Newington Butts—had been built ten years
earlier.

Shakespeare at first took jobs as a man-of-all-work about
the theaters. The tradition is that he held horses at the door,
and employed boys for this service, so that for a long time
these servitors were called “Shakespeare’s boys.” At that time
the Scholar Poets belonging to Greene’s circle were in practical
possession of the stage, so far as authorship was concerned.
About 1587 Greene was somewhat eclipsed by Marlowe and
Kyd, whose Tamburlaine and The Spanish Tragedy, respec-
tively, appeared that year. During the years immediately fol-
lowing, Shakespeare must have gained a foothold, both as actor
and playwright. The evidence for this conclusion lies princi-
pally in an unfinished pamphlet, called A Groatsworth o’ Wit,
left by Greene at his death in 1592, in which he warns his
friends, Nash, Peele, and Lodge, against the injustices and dif-
ficulties of the theatrical profession, and incidentally refers to
one “Shakescene” as an impudent upstart of an actor and a
plagiarizing author. In this skit Greene parodied a line,
“Tiger’s heart wrapped in a woman’s hide,” which occurs in
what is now considered Shakespeare’s first play, the first part
of Henry VI. The probabilities, therefore, are strong that
Greene referred to Shakespeare; thus establishing the fact that
the younger playwright had already become something of a
rival to the university set.

In the early 1590’s Shakespeare’s activities as a theater man
were well begun. He was summoned to act at court with Bur-
bage, Heminge, Condell and others, and he received a salary
as actor, a share of the profits of the enterprise, and certain
sums for each play he wrote. In 1599 the Shakespeare family
was granted a coat-of-arms; and “William Shakespeare” be-
came “William Shakespeare, Gent.”” He purchased New Place,

, ,
ee a oe226 SHAKESPEARE

the largest house in Stratford, for sixty pounds; and there-
after he frequently added to his property in land and houses,
not only in Stratford, but also in London. He was involved
in several cases of litigation concerning mortgages and the
recovery of sums of money. A recent investigator, Professor
G. M. Wallace, has discovered that for a time Shakespeare
lodged in the house of one Christopher Mountjoy, a wig-maker
living near Cripplegate. In 1601 John Shakespeare died; the
widow, Mary, lived until 1608. In 1607 Susanna married a
physician named John Hall and went to live at New Place, the
mother remaining, for the remainder of her life, in a small
cottage in Henley Street.

During the following years it is probable that Shakespeare
detached himself gradually from his London associations, and
finally, three or four years before his death, made Stratford
his home again. He made his will early in 1616, about the
time his daughter Judith married Thomas Quiney; and on the
twenty-third day of April, the same day of the same month
in which he is supposed to have been born, he died. Two days
later he was buried in the chancel of the Church of the Holy
Trinity at Stratford, where, on the now famous grave, are
carved the lines:

Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare

To dig the dust enclosed here;

Blest be the man that spares these stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones.

The inscription on the monument in the church at Stratford
reads:

Judico Pylium, genio Socratem, arte Maronem
Terra tegit, populus maeret, Olympus habet.

Stay passenger, why goest thou by so fast?

Read, if thou canst, whom envious death hath plast
Within this monument: Shakespeare with whome
Quick nature dide; whose name doth deck ys tombe
Far more than cost; sith all yt he hath writt
Leaves living art but page to serve his witt.

Obiit ano. doi 1616. Aetatis 53, Die 23 Ap.SHAKESPEARE 227

The four periods. The earliest recognition of Shakespeare
as a man of letters followed the publication, in 1593-4, of the
poems, Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, dedicated to the Earl
of Southampton. Many of the Sonnets were written in the
poet’s youth and circulated privately among his friends, but
they were not published until 1609. In regard to the plays, it
has been the custom among critics to divide Shakespeare’s
working life into four periods. The first, ending about 1593,
covers his experimental stage, includes the comedies Love’s
Labour’s Lost, Two Gentlemen of Verona, and The Comedy of
Errors, together with Titus Andronicus and five of the chron-
icle plays. From that time to 1601 constitutes the second
period, marked especially by the production of seven of the
romantic comedies. There are also four histories and two
tragedies. The third period, covering the first ten years of
the seventeenth century, saw the completion of seven of the
more important tragedies, including Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth
and Lear. In the fourth and last period there are the Win-
ter’s Tale, Cymbeline, and the incomparable Tempest, together
with the work Shakespeare did probably in collaboration with
Fletcher. Professor Dowden has named these four periods
respectively, “In the Workshop,” “In the World,” “In the
Depths,” and “On the Heights.” Such a designation marks
fairly well the distinction in temper between the different
periods; and it also indicates, no doubt, that the mood of the
public was subject to changes, and that Shakespeare knew how
to meet them. He experimented with all the types of plays—
tragedies, tragedies of blood, chronicles, comedies, and histories
—and in them all he proved himself a dramatist of power.

Not a single Shakespearean manuscript has survived. It
was not the custom, as we know, for playwrights to have their
work published. It was only when the plays began to be stolen
and printed from imperfect manuscripts that the dramatists
found it important to attend to the matter of publication. Even
then there was no copyright protection from pirated editions.
Shakespeare attended to the publication of his poems, but
seems never to have done as much for the dramas.

The quartos. The first appearance of the plays in print was228 SHAKESPEARE

in the quartos—small pamphlets, each containing one play and
selling probably for sixpence. Sixteen of the plays were thus
issued during Shakespeare’s lifetime, and one other, Othello,
five years after his death. Seven of these first quartos were
probably stolen and published from shorthand notes; the re-
maining ten were apparently printed from manuscript copies
such as were used in the theater. The first quarto, Henry VJ,
Part II, came out in 1594. After this time quartos, either
original or reprinted, appeared almost every year up to 1622,
when Othello was issued for the first time, and Richard III
and the first part of Henry VI for the sixth time.

The First Folio. In 1623, seven years after the poet’s death,
two of Shakespeare’s friends and associates in the theater,
John Heminge and Henry Condell, collected and published the
plays in the edition which is now called the First Folio. This
book was entitled:

The Workes of William Shakespeare, containing all his Com-
edies, Histories, and Tragedies; truely set forth according to their
first Originall.

It contains thirty-seven of the plays now accredited to Shake-
speare. It lacked only one, Pericles, which modern scholarship
has assigned to him. In this Folio there were twenty plays
which had not before appeared in print. The book is dedi-
cated to the Earls of Pembroke and Montgomery, who, in the
words of the dedication,

“have been pleased to thinke these trifles some-thing, heeretofore;
and have prosequuted both them, and their Authour living, with
so much favour.”

To the general reader the editors made an appeal to buy and
read, since

“these playes have had their triall alreadie, and stood out all ap-
peales.”

Moreover, the editors claimed that former plays, which had
been “maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealthes of in-SHAKESPEARE 229

jurious imposters,” had now been “cured and made perfect in
their limbes” ; and they added modestly, concerning the author,
that as he was a “happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle
expresser of it.”

In the introduction to the First Folio occurs the justly fa-
mous eulogy of Ben Jonson. It is entitled, “To the Memory
of my Beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare: and
what he hath left us.” In it are the lines,

“Soule of the age!
The applause! delight! the wonder
of the stage!”

and “He was not of an age, but for all time.” Three other
poetic eulogies stand at the beginning of the volume; and also
a list of the principal actors in the plays. The volume num-
bered 908 pages. It is not known how many copies of it were
published; but somewhat more than one hundred and fifty are
now known to be in existence.

During the seventeenth century there were published the
Second, Third, and Fourth Folios. Two reprints of the Third
Folio were made, and in the second reprint, 1664, Pericles and
six other plays (the latter now considered spurious), were
added to the Shakespeare canon. Among other plays these
additions included The Yorkshire Tragedy and Locrine. The
Fourth Folio followed the Third in keeping the enlarged list.
The texts of the different Folios were not identical; and within
each Folio the plays differed in external form. A few only
were supplied with a list of characters; the division into scenes
and acts was wholly lacking in six plays, and partly lacking in
others; the spelling was archaic, and inconsistent with itself;
exits and entrances were often missing, and the verse was dis-
arranged.

All these difficulties connected with typographical form were
supplemented by the confusion caused by piratical publishers
and shorthand copies. However expert the shorthand copyist
might have been, he was certain to commit many errors as to
the order of the verse. Sometimes whole passages were omit-
ted, words were mistaken, and the sense was garbled. The230 SHAKESPEARE

actors occasionally forgot their lines and omitted them, or im-
provised new ones. The result of these conditions is that
Shakespeare students must ask many questions, some of which
are: By what company of actors was the piece first played? Is
there any internal evidence of the date? Any external evi-
dence? How does the blank verse compare with that of Mar-
lowe, Webster, Dekker, or with the writings of other poets?
Are the characterizations of such a temper and quality as to
suggest date or author? What references are there to books,
pamphlets, or current local events? These are only a few of
the most obvious questions whose answers would throw light
on the date or authorship of a given play. The time has come
when any fact concerning Shakespeare’s life, or even the small-
est light upon any one of the Shakespeare lines, is counted a
discovery of the first magnitude.

The editors. The world owes a debt of gratitude to the
scholars who have devoted their services to the restoration of
the Shakespeare texts. Outside of the Bible and the Greek
tragic poets, no other writer has ever received such loving at-
tention from poets and learned men as has the English bard.
Nicholas Rowe, poet laureate to Queen Anne, was the first
person, after Heminge and Condell, to study the plays with a
view to establishing a correct text. He traced and corrected
many errors which had persisted or crept into the Folios. In
1709 he published an edition of the plays in six volumes with
a memoir of the author, and brought comparative order out
of the chaotic condition. He completed the division into acts
and scenes, listed the characters, rearranged the verse of many
passages, and used much good sense in the correction of ob-
vious faults. Some of the things he did were wrong, and he
left much still to be done; but he opened the way in a spirit
of scholarship, sympathy and sense. Fourteen years later came
Pope’s edition. Probably the most important service rendered
by Pope was the rejection of the seven plays which had been
added to the Third and Fourth Folios. Modern criticism has
agreed with him concerning six of the questioned plays, but
has restored Pericles to the Shakespearean canon. This drama,SHAKESPEARE 231

with the thirty-seven plays printed in the First Folio, make up
the list now included in every edition.

Other Shakespeare lovers, more painstaking than Pope,
quickly found errors in the edition printed under his name; and
from that time to this, revisions, emendations, and new inter-
pretations have never ceased. Theobald, a learned, brilliant
and sympathetic critic, showed up Pope’s carelessness and ig-
norance, and in turn was spitefully pilloried by Pope in the
Dunciad. Hamner was not so important as Theobald, but
still achieved notable results. Men of letters have worked con
amore for a better understanding of one whom they tacitly ac-
knowledge as master of all scholars. The eighteenth century
produced Doctor Johnson, Edward Capell, and others; and the
distinguished list goes on with the names of Knight, Malone,
Coleridge, Lamb, Halliwell-Phillips, Dyce, up to the Ameri-
cans—White, Rolfe, Furness, Thorndike and Neilson. The
Germans Schlegel, Schiller, Goethe and Herder have also added
much in the way of critical and explanatory material.

Sources of plots. It has already become a truism that tra-
dition and folk lore have been much more important in the
making of plays than invention. Shakespeare’s two early com-
edies, Love’s Labour's Lost and The Merry Wives of Windsor,
seem to have been original plots; but they are the exceptions
in the long list of plays. The career of the Romeo and Juliet
fable fairly illustrates the history of many of the stories. The
groundwork of Romeo was a medieval romance in prose (usu-
ally ascribed to Xenophon of Ephesus), translated in the Mid-
dle Ages into Italian, perhaps by Da Porto. In the fifteenth
century a part of the story appeared in a novel by Masuccio.
Then Bandello, another Italian, made a poetic version of it,
and before 1562 it had appeared as a play in England. From
this play Arthur Brooke made a poem, creating the characters
of Mercutio and the Nurse. In each of these versions doubt-
less fresh touches or new characters were added to heighten
the interest. In 1567 another prose version was published by
Paynter in The Palace of Pleasure. It is probable that Shake-
speare took the story from Brooke’s version, producing his
Romeo and Juliet in 1594. Upon it are many marks of his232 SHAKESPEARE

youthful style. In the verse are rhyme endings, internal
rhymes, and sonnet forms mixed with the blank verse; here
and there are echoes of the ranting, high-flown rhetoric of
Kyd or Marlowe. The play belongs to the school of The
Spanish Tragedy, for it is passion and not reason which de-
termines the action and final result. The century-long family
feud is, in a way, a fate-motive which overwhelms alike the
innocent and the guilty. The story, sordid and depressing in its
original form, was transformed by Shakespeare into a thing of
beauty, the consummate eulogy of Youth and Love.

Shakespeare based many other plays upon fables which had
enjoyed a long and sometimes brilliant career before he touched
them. Hamlet came to him via the Sax6 Chronicle, Bandello,
a French version by Belleforest, and an early play in English,
probably by Kyd. Othello is from a novel by Cinthio, Lear
from an earlier play based upon the chronicle of Geoffrey of
Monmouth. Macbeth is from Holinshed, and treats the same
subject as a lost Latin play acted before James First at Ox-
ford. Shakespeare was a devoted reader of Plutarch, probably
in the English version of Sir Thomas North; and from him he
took the idea of Coriolanus and the other Roman plays. Timon
of Athens is founded partly on Plutarch and partly on a tale
from The Palace of Pleasure. A part of Measure for Measure
came from Cinthio by way of Greene’s Pandosto. The casket
scene in The Merchant of Venice is found in the Gesta Ro-
manorum and in the Decameron; and from the latter also came
the love story in Cymbeline and the plot of All’s Well. And
so on through the list.

In spite of the fact that Shakespeare did not once in his
plays enter upon the political or religious controversies of his
day, yet he was intensely of his time. Carlyle called him an
epitome of the era of Elizabeth. He had an interest in strange
countries, as had all the Elizabethans; was acquainted with law
and the terms of legal procedure; knew the current supersti-
tions and witch-lore; and like his generation he was fascinated
by Italian books, music and amusements. He reflects all the
characteristics of the London gentleman of his time, who was
fond of fencing bouts, wrestling matches, duels, dances andFlorence Vandamm Stiad.o

Estelle Winwood, as Katharine, and Rollo Peters, as Petruchio, in
The Taming of the ShrewSHAKESPEARE 233

love stories. He was familiar with all sorts of plays—those of
his own day and the day preceding, of Lope de Vega and Cal-
deron. His language is full of the catchwords, proverbs, and
tags of current speech; and he, like the dramatists of all ages,
was easily caught in the net of the supernatural. He exalts
his England, just as the Athenian playwrights exalted their
beautiful city. In his verse there are puns, curious conceits
which overload the sense, and an occasional childish play upon
words, crowded imagery and improbable stories.

Even from the first, however, Shakespeare showed himself
able to produce radiant passages and portrayals of character
far outweighing any weaknesses. He worked with a great
variety of subjects, could delineate subtleties of emotion and
desire, was a master of gorgeous poetry, and showed a pro-
found understanding of the sources of human happiness. The
tragedy of blood, hitherto full of ranting fury, became in his
hands a Hamlet; the domestic tragedy, founded on some re-
volting murder case, an Othello. The history plays were trans-
formed from the cold, dull Gorboduc to the warmth and reality
of a Julius Cesar or Richard III, Perhaps his most important
service to drama lay in his incomparable adaptability to the
stage.

“His stories are so vividly told, that even people who dislike
plays and who do not care for poetry delight in them. .
Shakespeare’s plays visualize themselves. Each character is, as it
were, costumed in his own language. Erase the names of the
speakers, and the text keeps them in place. Destroy the stage di-
rections, remove the stage from under their feet, and pull down
the theater, and yet the play goes forward: everything is expressed
in the lines themselves. . . . You cannot keep Shakespeare off the
stage. The plays veer towards the boards as ducks veer towards
the water when passing a pond; and this lurch is felt, not only in
the whole drift and action of a play, but in its scenes and inci-
dents, its decorative passages, its dumb show. These dramas excite
the dramatic ambition of every reader, they create good actors, and
they have maddened the bad ones in all ages. Little scenes cut out
of them are thrilling if properly done; and the great speeches,
soliloquies, and harangues are the best monologues in existence.
No actor has ever given a final interpretation of any one of the

2
+

tee ornate! Orta)234 SHAKESPEARE

great roles. Even when they are murdered by bad actors, they
come to life again, as true creatures of the stage should do.” 1

Shakespeare may be measured by many tests; but this meas-
urement can only be done, finally, by each reader for himself.
It is only by letting the characters speak to you that the real
Shakespeare can be revealed. In his Book you may see what
he admired, what he laughed at, what he loved and handled
tenderly. What did he like in women? Not only beauty and
modesty, like all poets, but the clear brain of a Portia, the gay
spirits of a Rosalind, the womanly dignity and kindness of
Olivia; women who were not squeamish or clinging, but cour-
ageous and gallant. His heroes are men of character, though
often beset by some demon which temporarily perverts them;
they are not cads or rakes. In spite of the occasional coarse-
ness of his words, common in his time, he was essentially
clean-minded. Sincerity, faithfulness in friendship, depend-
ability, loyalty—these are the qualities which he constantly
elevates, and whose infringement he punishes. He scoffs mer-
rily at conceit, bombast, vanity, and worldly folly. What
emerges more and more, as one reads and thinks, is the wis-
dom and knowledge of the man combined with his gift of
poetry. These qualities have lifted him into eminence. He
could make words mean more than they logically mean, and
express such commonplace emotions as young love, sorrow,
despair, and ambition, in a radiant kind of language so that
these experiences seem not commonplace, but the very essence
of romance, adventure, pathos.

1 John Jay Chapman, A Glance Towards Shakespeare.CHAPTER XXV

THE FIRST HALF OF THE SEVENTEENTH
CENTURY IN ENGLAND

During the last phase. . . . English drama is no longer what it
had been. It has forfeited all claim to consideration as a moral
and ethical force, has accepted the brand of vagabondage, and is
content to make its appeal to moral outcasts. It was for this rea-
son that Stuart drama faded and decayed. . . . The form is there
in almost undiminished splendor; it is the healthy spirit, the sane
and comprehensive grasp of life, which is missing —C. E. TUCKER
Brooke, The Tudor Drama.

The first decade of the seventeenth century must be called,
on the whole, the most glorious period in English dramatic
history. After that time, the remarkable genius which had so
enriched the stage began to wane. The younger men, writing
contemporaneously with Shakespeare, brought to their work
perhaps more technical skill and scarcely less richness of imag-
ination; but they began to use abnormal and repulsive subjects,
to delineate trickery and chicanery for its own sake, and to
depend upon rhetoric instead of creative imagination,—all
marks of overripeness and decadence. At the same time they
broadened the field, pictured many contemporary types, and
indeed invented new kinds of plays, such as the “comedy of
humours,” the mixed comedy, and the dramatic romance.

Ben Jonson. 1574-1637. In the group of playwrights im-
mediately surrounding Shakespeare, who with him were per-
haps accustomed to gather in the Mermaid Tavern, were Ben
Jonson, Webster, Ford, Beaumont and Fletcher, Chapman,
Marston, and Dekker. Among these Jonson was easily first,
both in the quality of his genius and the amount of his work.
He was a man of enormous learning, poet laureate, a soldier in

235

ee as

:236 THE FIRST HALF OF THE

Flanders, an actor, and hack writer for Henslowe1 He ap-
peared first as playwright in the late years of the sixteenth cen-
tury, at the moment when Shakespeare and the romantic com-
edies were at the height of their popularity. To some extent
he was obliged to conform to the prevailing taste; but his
natural inclination was toward the classic and regular style
rather than toward the romantic; and his “humour” was satiri-
cal rather than sentimental.

Jonson’s plays fall roughly into three groups: the realistic
comedies, the tragedies, and the masques. As a contribution
to drama the realistic comedies are most important. Even in
his ‘prentice work, the two plays The Case is Altered and The
Tale of a Tub, it is evident that he was influenced more by
classic models than by contemporary fashion. The Case Is
Altered is based upon two plays of Plautus and the old fa-
miliar theme of the abduction of infants. The action is com-
pleted in one place and covers but a single day. Jonson’s im-
portance, however, is not owing to this return to the classical
form, but to his keenness in portraying contemporaneous types.
He took from the Plautine plays some of the most successful
stock characters such as Miles Gloriosus (whom he named
Captain Bobadil), the spendthrift son, the jealous husband,
and so transformed them that they stand forth revived and
recreated, as true comic figures belonging to Elizabethan
London.

The play Every Man in His Humour (1598) inaugurated
the school of realistic comedy, unlike anything which had hith-
erto appeared on the English stage. It deals not with the pas-
sions, but with the follies, the “humours” of mankind. The
scene is laid in London, and different sorts of city characters
are pictured to the life. The play was the sensation of the

1 Philip Henslowe (died 1616) was the first famous theatrical man-
ager. He built the Rose Theater in I59I, and with the actor Edward
Alleyn built the Fortune in 1599 (1600 O. S.). In 1592 he began a
Diary in which he entered many facts of interest, including the dates
of the production of new plays, the amounts he paid for them, and the
names of writers whom he employed. The Diary was edited for the
Shakespeare Society in 1841.SEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 237

hour, and was enacted before the queen by the company to
which Shakespeare belonged, and in which he at one time acted.

Jonson was brilliant, but apparently neither genial nor lov-
able,—indeed he had the reputation of being pompous and arro-
gant. Though manly and honorable, he seems to have been
lacking in sympathy. As a dramatist, he was resourceful in
the creation of character and in the invention of comic situa-
tions. While for the most part he confined himself to laugh-
ing at the more obvious, surface absurdities of society, yet his
wit was so keen and his humor so robust as to make a lasting
impression upon English drama. He influenced nearly all the
writers of the seventeenth century, and his peculiar type of
play has persisted on the English speaking stage to the present
time.

Francis Beaumont, 1584-1616. John Fletcher, 1579-1625.
Collaboration between playwrights was common enough in
Elizabethan times, but the remarkably successful partnership
between Beaumont and Fletcher was unique even for that day.
Both men came from the upper class, Beaumont being the son
of a chief justice, and Fletcher the son of a clergyman who
later became Lord Bishop of London. The former was edu-
cated at Oxford, the latter at Cambridge. From about 1608
until the marriage of Beaumont in 1613 the two friends lived
together near the Globe Theater in Southwark, sharing every-
thing in the closest intimacy. They belonged to the Mermaid
Tavern group and were friends of Jonson and Shakespeare.
Poets have commented on the manliness and “lordly aspect”
of these two men. They enjoyed great popularity, and their
plays kept the stage until long after the Restoration. In 1616,
a few weeks before the death of Shakespeare, Beaumont died
and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Nine years later
Fletcher died of the plague and was buried at Saint Saviour’s
in Southwark.

As Jonson best represents the classic play of this period, so
3eaumont and Fletcher best represent the romantic. The plays
written together reach a higher point of excellence than any-
thing either one wrcte alone. In their combined work there is
sureness of touch, humor, pathos, intensity. Students of every

c
Ey
+
Cs
{
i

Ps
bs

a238 THE FIRST HALF OF THE

generation have wondered at the completeness of the fusion
of the two talents. It was said that Fletcher was the more
brilliant of the two, with the ability to turn off witty, graceful
dialogue; while tragic intensity and genial humor were the
special gifts of Beaumont. In their joint plays their talents
are so organically combined, so completely merged into one,
that the hand of Beaumont cannot be clearly distinguished
from that of Fletcher.

The joint plays of Beaumont and Fletcher. The Cambridge
History of English Literature attributes seven plays to the col-
laboration of the two friends. More than fifty are listed as
written either by one or by both, and at least six have been
lost. The first piece announced as coming from them was
Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding. It is partly in verse and
partly in prose, and has many marks of the prevailing roman-
tic school, such as the disinherited prince, a lord from foreign
parts who comes to court the king’s daughter, the high-born
girl disguised as a page, and the intrigues of courtiers. The
play has the true Elizabethan ring. The sentiment of the pas-
torals, too often mawkish, is here introduced with happy re-
sults. When Philaster, the inheritor of the kingdom, tells the
shepherd boy that he does not realize what it is to die, the boy
answers :

“Yes, I do know, my lord:

‘Tis less than to be born, a lasting sleep;
A quiet resting from all jealousy

A thing we all pursue; I know, besides,
"Tis but a giving over of a game

That must be lost... .”

And again,

“Alas, my lord, my life is not a thing
Worthy your noble thoughts! ’tis not a life,
"Tis but a piece of childhood thrown away.”

So the poetry goes, full of rich fancy, delicacy and technical
virtuosity. It is often full of vehemence, too, as though winged
by genuine emotion. The facts of the story may not alwaysSEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 239

be within the realm of reality, yet the passion rings true, and
the poetry has the lift which is the mark of genius.

The Fletcher and Beaumont plays show how luxuriant and
forceful, even outside Shakespeare, was the romantic Eliza-
bethan style, and how brilliant were some of his contempo-
raries.

“Their best heroes are earlier Hernanis, bred in the ideals of
Castilian honor; even their villains—and monstrous villains some
of them are—utter very noble sentiments. You feel that such per-
sons never existed, and yet you know the thoughts to be true, and
you cannot resist the fascination, the glamour, if you will, of
ideals borrowed from the age of chivalry. There is, in Beaumont
and Fletcher, a ‘constant recognition of gentility,’ as Emerson has
remarked; this, and their picturesque descriptions, their genuine
sentiment, and their occasional flashes of imagination revealing
intense passion, constitute their chief merits, and interfuse through
their dramas the spirit of romance.” ?

After the death of Beaumont, Fletcher collaborated with
Massinger, Shirley, Jonson, Field, and perhaps others. In two
plays, Henry VIII and The Two Noble Kinsmen, it is sup-
posed that Fletcher and Shakespeare worked together. Some
of the plays often attributed to Fletcher have no less than three
or four authors; or they were revised so many times, by differ-
ent hands, that they became as it were a composite of the wit
and skill of the times. Nobody tried very hard to be “orig-
inal” in the sense of inventing the fables; the tales of Boccac-
cio (coming to England probably by way of Chaucer), Cin-
thio, Tasso, Guarini, Cervantes and Lope de Vega were a con-
stant source of supply for plots.

General importance of Beaumont and Fletcher. Both of
these men were poets of a high order, and their work was su-
perior in invention, scholarship, and charm to anything else in
the Elizabethan age except the best of Shakespeare. Webster
equalled them in powerful expression of passion and tragic
despair. Massinger, and perhaps Marston, achieved passages
which were comparable in beauty; but for volume, sustained

2 William Roscoe Thayer, in his Preface to a collection of Elizabethan
plays.240 THE FIRST HALE OF THE

energy, and poetic power the names of Beaumont and Fletcher
stand above them all. These two possessed luxuriance of fancy
and eagerness for new ideas combined with a scholarly con-
servatism towards upstart modes; they had, occasionally, the
licentiousness and coarseness characteristic of their times.
Their command of phrase was unsurpassed; they avoided fool-
ish conceits and violent metaphors, at the same time achieving
a sort of gorgeousness of language. Not only for their in-
fluence on language, but also for their singular modernity of
spirit should they be remembered. They seem already far
away from Shakespeare, as if speaking almost in the tongue
of today.

Thomas Dekker. 1570-cir. 1637. As in the reign of Eliza-
beth, so in the time of James the stage continued to draw the
most brilliant men of letters. Thomas Dekker did not belong
to the “gentle” class, and he appears not to have been a uni-
versity man. Versatile and talented but often careless, he lived
the life of the real bohemian. Once he was for nearly three
years in prison for debt; and he had a thorough knowledge of
the hardships of life. Yet in spite of all, his temper was sweet
and to him life was good. His name is frequently mentioned
in Henslowe’s Diary, which means that as a hack writer he
made himself useful; and he is known as the author of various
pamphlets. He left a vivid account of the plague in 1603;
also, in The Gull’s Horn Book, a lively record of the loose
manners and morals of the fashionable London gallants. He
wrote charming songs, and a series of fine prayers. All in all,
Dekker must be counted as one of the most manly and at-
tractive of this group of playwrights.

Dekker’s Shoemaker’s Holiday is one of the most delightful
of comedies, full of fun and hearty enjoyment of life. An-
other Dekker comedy, Old Fortunatus, was based on a well
known story which had appeared in Italian, German, and
French versions. Hans Sachs and others had already used it
before Dekker, who wrote his play probably in 1600. Dekker
collaborated with nearly all of the Henslowe group of play-
wrights, and was one of the principal contestants in the famous
War of the Theaters, which occurred towards the end of theSEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 241

sixteenth century. The causes of this trouble are somewhat
obscure, but it is generally thought that Marston, Dekker and
others, on the public stage and under the slightest of disguises,
had made sport of Jonson as being conceited and arrogant. In
an attempt at punishment, Jonson claimed that he had given
Marston a beating and taken his pistol from him. Evidently
the sport continued, however; and in 1601 Jonson retaliated
in another way. He produced a play called The Poetaster, in
which he ridiculed both Marston and Dekker. The next move
was the production by Dekker of a burlesque tragedy called
Satiromastix, which was full of good-humored mockery of
Jonson. The quarrel was patched up and apparently forgotten,
for, in the same year, Marston and Jonson collaborated in
Love’s Martir; and shortly afterward the three writers, Mars-
ton, Dekker and Jonson together produced Eastward Hoe, a
lively play with the plot taken from the Decameron but the
characters from contemporaneous London life. Professor
Brooke thinks the War of the Theaters was partly caused not
so much by personal animosity as by rivalry between different
theatrical companies. Jonson’s plays were given by the Chil-
dren of the Royal Chapel, while Dekker and Marston could
be seen at the Globe and the Fortune.

George Chapman. 1559-1634. Unlike most of his literary
contemporaries, Chapman did not in early youth turn to play-
writing. He was born five years before Shakespeare, and is
best known for his translation of Homer, which inspired the
famous sonnet by Keats. Like Jonson he was a learned man,
with an elevated style and considerable gift for epigram. One
of his plots, The World Runs on Wheels, was taken from Ter-
ence, another, The Widdower’s Tears, from Petronius. In his
two most successful tragedies, Bussy D’Ambois and The Re-
venge of Bussy D’Ambois, he drew his fable from recent
French history. He was never entirely at home in the dramatic
field, and never achieved a really good plot.

John Marston. 1575-1634. The history of Marston is a
singular one. He was a graduate of Oxford and for about
eight years a prominent figure in the theatrical world of Lon-
don. His thinly veiled ridicule of Ben Jonson occurs in the242 THRE TIiRSt TAieh Wre tHE

play called Histriomastix ; and it was probably this piece which
involved him, with Dekker, in the prolonged quarrel known as
the War of the Theaters. Besides his collaborations with
Dekker and Jonson, Marston also dramatized the well worn
story of Sophonisba, told originally by Livy, used by Trissino
in Italy, by Corneille in France, and by other writers in Eng-
land and Germany. Marston’s success, however, lay primarily
in comedy, in such pieces as Eastward Hoe and What You
Will. By the year 1606 he was an outstanding playwright;
but in the following year he suddenly retired from everything
pertaining to the stage and took orders in the Church.

Thomas Middleton. 1570-1627. The scene of Middleton’s
plays is always London, and his plots are based upon experi-
ences of men of the world. To be sure, his world was made
up of taverns and less reputable places; but so far as it went,
it was the veritable universe in which the gallants of the age
lived. His titles alone, A Trick to Catch the Old One, and
A Mad World, My Masters, are diverting. Mr. Arthur Sy-
mons calls the comedy of Middleton “light, rancid, and enter-
taining, irresponsible rather than immoral.” During this period
English drama was becoming increasingly dominated by sex;
and the more realistic it grew, the farther it strayed from the
world of imagination in which it had dwelt with the earlier
dramatists. Some of the most brilliant writers of the younger
group followed Jonson’s lead in the “comedy of humours,” and
although Shakespeare, Marlowe and the others were still to be
seen on the boards, yet they were already regarded as belong-
ing to the older and more conservative school. The modern
note was becoming clearer.

John Webster. 1580-cir. 1625. The few plays left by Web-
ster are of commanding quality. Little is known of his life.
In the early years of the seventeenth century he collaborated
with Dekker, Middleton, and Marston. Between 1610 and
1614 he produced the tragedies The White Devil and The
Duchess of Malfy, both based on the theme of revenge. The
White Devil, afterwards put on the stage as Vittoria Corom-
bona, portrays historical events which occurred in Italy during
Webster’s own lifetime. In it the author cuts loose fromSEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 243

tutorship and shows his own genius, which was sombre, power-
ful, and full of grandiose poetic fury. The Duchess of Malfy
also comes from an Italian source and has a plot which was
used as the basis of a play by Lope de Vega. Other dramas
ascribed to Webster are, for us, of slight importance. He
never attained the authoritative position of Jonson, nor the
popularity of Fletcher; but many recent critics have accorded
him a higher place than either. He is occasionally crude and
a trifle obscure; but in spite of a few such lapses, his plays
have the touch of greatness. Professor Vaughn places him
nearer to the author of Hamlet than any other of the group.
Even a short excerpt reveals the swing and energy of his
genius:

“I know death hath ten thousand several doors
For men to take their exits;

Yet stay: heaven’s gates are not so highly arched
As princes’ palaces; they that enter there

Must go upon their knees.” 3

Philip Massinger. 1583-1640. Massinger went to Oxford
without taking a degree, and came to London in 1606. He was
one of the numerous writers occasionally befriended by the
manager Henslowe. It was Fletcher, however, who became his
teacher and fellow worker. Though the early editions of the
work of Fletcher make no reference to Massinger as collabo-
rator, yet it is now thought that he was joint author in no less
than twenty of the so-called Fletcher plays. The two authors
seem always to have been on friendly terms; and Massinger,
probably at his own request, was buried in Fletcher’s grave.*
Massinger collaborated also with Dekker in The Virgin Martir,
and later with Nathaniel Field in The Fatall Dowry. Sixteen
plays survive to which Massinger’s name alone was attached;
and the titles of twelve lost works are known. Three of the
surviving dramas are tragedies, the others either comedies or
serious pieces ending without bloodshed. The highly success-
ful comedy, A New Way to Pay Old Debts, kept the stage

8 The Duchess of Malfy.
4 Cambridge History of English Literature, Vol. VI, p. 161.

Ot
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rere PdTe paces aegher sa IETS
Hate)

244 THE FIRST HALE OF THE

ae erly

almost up to the present day. The plot was borrowed from
Middleton.

Massinger was expert in dramatic construction, well able to
write effective stage scenes and to portray character. He
transplanted Jewish, Spanish, or English stories to Italy, which
was the conventional locus of the comedies of his day. His
women are frequently licentious and coarse, and he was satiric
about Englishmen, picturing them as hard drinkers and gross
feeders, all too ready to ape the fashions of the French. Haste
in work, and perhaps too little earnestness, prevented him from
reaching the highest level. He could not throw his whole
weight into the business in hand, but repeated himself, used
superficial and hackneyed terms, and abounded in coarseness.

John Ford. 1586-1640. Like so many other playwrights
of his day, Ford is thought to have studied at Oxford. He
collaborated with Dekker in The Sun’s Darling, and wrote the
first act of The Witch of Edmonton, Dekker probably writing
the remainder. Ford was almost the only member of this
group who did not borrow his plots. Like Webster, his spirit
was gloomy and sombre, “weaving the spell of genius around
strange sins.” He has been called the dramatist of broken
hearts. With no gift for comedy, he appeared at his best in
plays of eccentric action, where his polished and measured
verse conveys an impression of resentment and suffering. His
poetry is far removed from the eager and passionate lines of
Marlowe and the Scholar Poets. “With Ford, the sun-born
radiance of the noblest Elizabethan drama fades from the
stame:’?®

Tourneur and Shirley. Among the minor writers of the
Stuart period belong Cyril Tourneur and James Shirley. Tour-
neur is not an important figure, but he is generally considered
the author of two existing pieces, The Atheist’s Tragedy and
The Revenger's Tragedy. One tragi-comedy, The Nobleman,
which was performed at court, is now lost. Shirley has far
greater weight than Tourneur. He was a student both at Ox-
ford and Cambridge, and took orders in the Church of Eng-
land about 1619. Shortly afterward he became a convert to

5 EF. C. Gummere, The Elizabethan Stage.

{
,
4SEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 245

the Church of Rome and changed in profession from drama-
tist to school teacher; then again he returned to the work of
dramatist and was chosen to write a court play, The Triumph
of Peace (1634). Residing in Ireland for a time, he wrote
plays for the Dublin theater; but at the outbreak of the civil
war he enlisted as a soldier. After his military service he re-
turned to London and resumed his old profession of teaching.
A contemporary writer says that he and his wife were Over-
come in the great London fire (1666), that they both died on
the same day and were buried in the same grave. Shirley’s
work is for the most part in comedy and tragi-comedy, with
scenes laid in London, and the action belonging to the author’s
own time. As in so many other plays of the period, there are
ladies disguised as page boys, farcical underplots, satirical pas-
sages, and considerable liveliness. In general, Shirley is not so
coarse as his contemporaries. Among some forty or fifty sur-
viving dramas The Cardinall and The Traytor are perhaps the
best.

General characteristics. Like the Greek, the Elizabethan
period of dramatic greatness was short. The sudden growth
of wealth, the political changes caused by the victory over the
Spanish Armada, religious enfranchisement, the exploration of
new continents,—these and similar agencies brought about a
liberation of genius which has never been duplicated. The
playwrights were often impatient of discipline, crude but opu-
lent, coarse but not vicious. They were not fatigued with life.
The note of cynicism, of disillusion, of indifference was seldom
heard. The rich legacy which they left was largely formed of
three elements: the vital remnants of the medieval drama, the
corrective influence of the classic models, and the folk lore of
the Middle Ages. While French and Italian playwrights
turned towards classicism, those of Spain and England were
unmistakably romantic, ignoring the unities of time and place,
abandoning the chorus, presenting violent and passionate types
of characters, with crime, melancholy, insanity and death as
familiar companions. Revenge was a popular theme; and so
frequent was the appearance of the ghost that the anonymous246 THE BIRST WAL OR THE

writer of the Prologue to A Warning for Fair Women (1599)
expressed himself as follows:

“Then, too, a filthy whining ghost,

Lapt in some foul sheet, or a leather pilch,

Comes screaming like a pig half stuck’d

And cries, Vindicta! Revenge, revenge!

With that a little rosin flasheth forth,

Like smoke out of a tobacco pipe, or a boy’s squib.”

Causes of the condemnation of the theater. We come again
to a period when the influence of the Church was arrayed
against the theater; and this time its efforts towards its sup-
pression were markedly successful. It is perhaps unnecessary
to recall to the reader that the London Corporation, during the
greater part of the sixteenth century, had been in a chronic
state of resentment on account of play-actors and playhouses.
The reasons for their complaints were, for the most part, sound
enough: opportunities for lawlessness and violence, congestion
of traffic, encouragement of disreputable taverns, and danger
of the spread of the plague. As time went on, other argu-
ments, somewhat less reasonable, came to light. Some people
contended that it was sacrilegious for men to dress up in clothes
belonging to the other sex.* One clergyman, not a Puritan but
a Churchman, issued a pamphlet in which he stated that the
stage was the cause of the visitations of the plague: when it
was not present the ungodliness of the plays brought it on as
a curse from heaven; and when it was present, the gathering
in the playhouse caused it to spread.

About the time Shakespeare arrived in London there was an
outbreak against the theater which was especially violent. An
earthquake had occurred in 1580, and in the following year
there was a recurrence of the plague. At a bear-baiting show,
given on a Sunday, a wooden scaffolding had given way, kill-
ing several people and injuring others. A few years later, a
brawl outside the theater caused serious disturbance. To many
of the good people of London, all these things were signs of

6 No women were as yet on the English stage. Women’s parts were
taken by boys.SEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 247

the wrath of heaven against the play-acting profession, and
arguments for its extermination. When it was recognized that
play-acting, not long before, had been utilized as a means of
teaching the lessons of the Church, the argument against it
was that it was popish. At the very time when England was
making the greatest single contribution that any modern nation
has ever made to the literature of the stage, preachers both
Puritan and Anglican, pamphleteers, and politicians were loud
in their denunciations.

Royal protection. Fortunately, the stage had a powerful
friend in Queen Elizabeth. Since companies of actors “be-
longed” to the queen and were under the protection of the
highest nobles of the land, the fight over the theaters resolved
itself mainly into a struggle on the part of the queen’s agents,
or counsel, to outwit the decrees of the city Corporation. One
method was to regard the giving of a play as a “rehearsal”
for a royal production. Of course these “rehearsals” could be
as numerous as the manager wished; and the public could be,
and was, admitted. This practice brought on a bitter quarrel
in which professors of Oxford and Cambridge were involved.
One wise man at Oxford condemned the public plays, but de-
fended those of the universities. “As an occasional recreation
for learned gentlemen, acting received his highest praise; as a
regular means of livelihood, it was regarded with scorn.”* In
all this contention, however, the astute Elizabeth managed to
have her own way. The stage and its players were kept alive.

After the death of Elizabeth the condition of playing com-
panies was changed. The privilege of licensing and protecting
them was gradually withdrawn from the nobles and taken over
by the king. The London theater was thereby strengthened,
but dramatic activity in general received a blow. It became
more fashionable to attend public performances; and the court
masques brought to the city many people of talent—painters,
musicians, designers, actors and playwrights. Plays became
more polished, less coarse, but often more indecent. Protected
by the play-loving monarchs, actors were less apprehensive of
the law, and did not scruple to ridicule their enemies. As the

7 Cambridge History of English Literature.248 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND

seventeenth century wore on, no doubt politics had as much to
do with the feeling against the theaters as religion; for play-
wrights and actors inevitably were classed among the support-
ers of the crown. The scandal was increased by the licentious-
ness of the court, where so many attractive theater people
found protection, and by the extravagances connected with the
masques. Actors grew bold and began to insult the pious-
minded, especially the Puritans.

As the difficulties between the crown and Parliament in-
creased, there were circulated numerous pamphlets and peti-
tions in which the stage was attacked for its immorality, inde-
cency and extravagance. All the old arguments, which had
preceded the building of the playhouses in the sixteenth cen-
tury, were revived. The annual attacks of the plague in the
years following 1630 were exceptionally violent. In 1642 Par-
liament issued an ordinance suppressing all stage plays; and
five years later even a stricter law was passed. Finally, in
1648 all playhouses were ordered to be pulled down, all players
to be seized and whipped, and every one caught attending a
play to be fined five shillings. Of course, no such ordinance,
in such a city as London, could be completely enforced; but
the playhouses, in effect, were practically closed from 1642
until the Restoration in 1660.CHAPTER XXVI
THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS

Then came the gallant protest of the Restoration, when Wycher-
ley and his successors in drama commenced to write of contempo-
rary life in much the spirit of modern musical comedy....A
new style of comedy was improvised, which, for lack of a better
term, we may agree to call the comedy of Gallantry, and which
Etherege, Shadwell, and Davenant, and Crowne, and Wycherley,
and divers others, labored painstakingly to perfect. They prob-
ably exercised to the full reach of their powers when they ham-
mered into grossness their too fine witticisms just smuggled out
of France, mixed them with additional breaches of decorum, and
divided the result into five acts. For Gallantry, it must be re-
peated, was yet in its crude youth. ... For Wycherley and his
confreres were the first Englishmen to depict mankind as leading
an existence with no moral outcome. It was their sorry distinc-
tion to be the first of English authors to present a world of un-
scrupulous persons who entertained no special prejudices, one way
or the other, as touched ethical matters—JAMES BRANCH CABELL,
Beyond Life.

From 1642 onward for eighteen years, the theaters of Eng-
land remained nominally closed. There was of course evasion
of the law; but whatever performances were offered had to be
given in secrecy, before small companies in private houses, or
in taverns located three or four miles out of town. No actor
or spectator was safe, especially during the earlier days of the
Puritan rule. Least of all was there any inspiration for drama-
tists. In 1660 the Stuart dynasty was restored to the throne
of England. Charles II, the king, had been in France during
the greater part of the Protectorate, together with many of the
royalist party, all of whom were familiar with Paris and its
fashions. Thus it was natural, upon the return of the court,
that French influence should be felt, particularly in the theater.

249

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3
Hi
,
:250 THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS

In August, 1660, Charles issued patents for two companies of
players, and performances immediately began. Certain writers,
in the field before the civil war, survived the period of theat-
rical eclipse, and now had their chance. Among these were
Thomas Killigrew and William Davenant, who were quickly
provided with fine playhouses.

Appearance of women on the English stage. It will be re-
membered that great indignation was aroused among the Eng-
lish by the appearance of French actresses in 1629. London
must soon have learned to accept this innovation, however, for
in one of the semi-private entertainments given during the
Protectorate at Rutland House, the actress Mrs. Coleman took
the principal part. The Siege of Rhodes, a huge spectacle de-
signed by Davenant in 1656 (arranged in part with a view of
evading the restrictions against theatrical plays) is generally
noted as marking the entrance of women upon the English
stage. It is also remembered for its use of movable machinery,
which was something of an innovation. The panorama of The
Siege offered five changes of scene, presenting “the fleet of
Solyman the Magnificent, his army, the Island of Rhodes, and
the varieties attending the siege of the city.”

Disappearance of national types. By the time the theaters
were reopened in England, Corneille and Racine in France had
established the neo-classic standard for tragedy, and Moliere
was in the full tide of his success. These playwrights, with
Quinault and others, for a time supplied the English with
plots. The first French opera, Cadmus and Hermione, by
Lully and Quinault, performed in Paris in 1673, crossed the
channel almost immediately, influencing Dryden in his attempts
at opera. The romantic, semi-historical romances of Madame
Scudéry and the Countess de la Fayette afforded a second sup-
ply of story material, while Spanish plays and tales opened up
still another. Sometimes the plots of Calderon or Lope de
Vega came to the English at second-hand through French ver-
sions. Whatever the case, it was now evident that the national
type of play had ceased to be written. From this time on
every European nation was influenced by, and exerted an in-
fluence upon, the drama of every other nation. Characters,THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS 251

situation, plots, themes,—these things traveled from country to
country, always modifying and sometimes supplanting the home
product.

Persistence of Elizabethan plays. With this influx of for-
eign drama, there was still a steady production of the master-
pieces of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods. The diarist
Samuel Pepys, an ardent lover of the theater, relates that dur-
ing the first three years after the opening of the playhouses he
saw Othello, Henry IV, A Midsummer Night's Dream, two
plays by Ben Jonson, and others by Beaumont, Fletcher, Mid-
dleton, Shirley, and Massinger. It must have been about this
time that the practice of “improving” Shakespeare was begun,
and his plays were often altered so as to be almost beyond
recognition. From the time of the Restoration actors and man-
agers, also dramatists, were good royalists; and new pieces,
or refurbished old ones, were likely to acquire a political slant.
The Puritans were satirized, the monarch and his wishes were
flattered, and the royal order thoroughly supported by the peo-
ple of the stage.

Richard Boyle, Earl of Orrery (1621-1679), seems to have
the doubtful glory of re-introducing the use of rhymed verse.
Boyle was a statesman, as well as a soldier and a dramatist.
During the ten years or so following the Restoration, he wrote
at least four tragedies on historical or legendary subjects, using
the ten-syllabled rhymed couplet which (at the moment) he
borrowed from France. It runs like this:

“Reason’s a staff for age, when nature’s gone;
But youth is strong enough to walk alone.”

No more stilted sort of verse could well be contrived for dia-
logue. Monotonous as well as prosy, it was well suited to
Orrery’s plots. He took a semi-historical story, filled it with
bombastic sentiments and strutting figures, producing what was
known as “heroic drama.” Dryden, who identified himself
with this type of play, described it as concerned not with prob-
abilities but with love and valor. A good heroic play is ex-
citing, with perpetual bustle and commotion. The characters
are extricated out of their amazing situations only by violence.rT Te re

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252 THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS

Deaths are numerous. The more remote and unfamiliar the
setting, the better ; and the speech should be suited to the action:
hence the “heroic couplet.” Pepys saw Guzman, by Orrery,
and wath his engaging frankness said it was as mean a thing
as had;been seen on the stage for a great while.

Jahn: Dryden. 1631-1700. In the history of the drama
Dryden occupies a peculiar place. He had no great genius for
the, theater, and yet he imposed his ideas upon the English
play-going world. He was that unusual product, a politician
with a poetical mind. For a time he was attached to the Puri-
tans, and wrote an ode on the death of Cromwell; but, on the
accession of Charles, he found no difficulty in transferring his
muse to the royalist party. Towards the end of his stormy life
he became a Roman Catholic. Soon after the accession of Wil-
liam and Mary, the queen, as a mark of honor to the poet, or-
dered a performance of The Spanish Fryar, one of his best
comedies. Among his last writings is rather an apologetic an-
swer to Jeremy Collier’s attack upon the stage. He died in
May, 1700, and was buried in Westminster Abbey in the grave
of Chaucer. He bequeathed his “dramatic laurels” to William
Congreve.

Dryden's plays. Although Dryden began his career as play-
wright with the production of two or three comedies, yet it was
in heroic drama that he achieved his great popularity. A
brother-in-law, Sir Robert Howard, wrote a play called The
Indian Queen, which had an absurd plot with a picturesque
setting. Dryden assisted in its revision; and its success was
such as to encourage him to write a sequel, The Indian Em-
peror, or the Conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards, which
took the stage by storm. Later came The Conquest of Granada,
in two parts with five acts each, the scene laid in unknown
regions, and the story full of intrigues, battles, bull fights, re-
venge, ghosts and murders. Three distinct love affairs are
threaded together. Another piece of this type, Tyrannick
Love, has for its subject the persecution of the Christians by
the Emperor Maximin and the sufferings of Saint Catherine.

Dryden tried his hand at opera, one of his efforts being the
arrangement of Milton’s Paradise Lost for a musical setting.THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS 253

Some of this work was composed by the celebrated Englishman,
Henry Purcell. Dryden and Davenant together re-wrote The
Tempest, giving Caliban and Ariel each a sister for some un-
known reason. ftomeo and Juliet, revised by Dryden and his
brother-in-law James Howard, had a happy ending, and was
performed on alternate nights with the original play. In All
for Love, or the World Well Lost, a revision of Shakespeare’s
Antony and Cleopatra, Dryden abandoned the heroic couplet
and used blank verse; he also reconstructed the original play
in such a way as to make it conform to the three unities. About
1678 he gave up the use of the heroic couplet altogether. His
version of Gdipus, in collaboration with Nathaniel Lee, has
already been referred to as being too ghastly and horrible for
stage production, even in those days of strong nerves.

Dryden’s influence was greater than would be thought pos-
sible from a study of any one of his dramas. As a playwright
he did not consider himself wholly a success, and expressed his
dislike and contempt of the stage more than once. Of certain
of his plays he said, “I knew they were bad enough to please,
even when I wrote them.” He had no sense of the ridiculous,
nor any conception of a natural, sincere portrayal of human
nature. Ranting and absurd imagery often lie beside passages
of real beauty. Dr. Johnson described his style as a “false
magnificence.” One comedy, The Spanish Fryar, and one
tragedy, All for Love, deserve to be remembered. Far more
interesting than the plays, however, are Dryden’s discussions
of dramatic questions. Like Mr. Shaw of the present day, he
had the habit of writing long prefaces and comments as an
accompaniment to the text. In these dissertations are to be
found many sound principles, including the idea that dramatic
rules should be deduced from a study of plays rather than
from abstract speculation.

Parody of heroic drama. Other writers, Davenant, Ether-
ege, and Sir Robert Howard, had also produced specimens of
heroic plays, and by the time The Conquest of Granada reached
the stage these clever gentlemen had grown tired of the spe-
cies. Compared to Dryden they were nobodies in the literary
world; but among them they contrived a hilarious burlesque

neeinting nigel rr254 THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS

called The Rehearsal,t in which these showy but shallow pro-
ductions were smartly ridiculed. Dryden is represented as
Bayes (in reference to his position as poet laureate), and his
peculiarities of speech and plot are amusingly derided. Though
The Rehearsal was condemned as “scurrilous and ill-bred,”’ yet
it served a useful turn in puncturing an empty and overblown
style.

Thomas Otway. 1652-1685. As an intellectual force Dry-
den towered above his generation, yet there were other writers,
such as Thomas Otway, who had far more dramatic power.
Otway was a scholar, and first tried his fortunes as an actor
without much success. He translated plays from the French,
wrote several half-successful pieces, and at length made a name
for himself in 1680 with a tragedy in blank verse called The
Orphan. So great was the praise lavished on this drama that
its author was called the English Euripides. In later years Dr.
Johnson said that Otway “conceived forcibly, and drew orig-
inally, by consulting nature in his own breast.” The Orphan
kept the boards well into the nineteenth century, and famous
actresses like Mrs. Barry and Miss O’Neill were renowned for
their pathetic presentation of the part of the heroine. The
second play on which the fame of Otway rests is Venice Pre-
served, produced in 1682. Even today it seems a good play,
with fluency, imaginative wit and tragic power, such as in-
evitably holds the attention. The verse runs with ease and has
an accent of sincerity. In the following extract the dying
Pierre prays for his wife:

“Then hear me, bounteous heaven!

Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head,

Where everlasting sweets are always springing,

With a continual giving hand; let peace

Honor and safety always hover round her,

Feed her with plenty, let her eyes ne’er see

A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning. .. .”
Otway’s life, which lasted only thirty-four years, was passed
in poverty and desperate circumstances. His fame did not
bring him to affluence. In one of his prefaces he says that he

1 The same theme was used later by Sheridan in The Critic.THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS 255

was “rescued from want” by the Duchess of Portsmouth.
Some idea of the compensation received by dramatists in
Otway’s time may be gained from the fact that The Orphan
and Venice Preserved each sold for one hundred pounds.

Writers of comedy. Sir George Etherege. 1634-1691. It
is a relief to turn from the artificial and ponderous tragedies
of the Restoration period to its comedies, which perhaps are
not less artificial but certainly are not ponderous. Several in-
fluences—French comedy, the gay life of the court, the re-
action from Puritan domination, and the participation of beauti-
ful and talented actresses—combined to create a new type of
comedy which was brilliant, superficial, and often quite in-
decent. The earliest writer of this sort was Sir George Eth-
erege, whose works form a bridge between the comedy of
humours of Elizabethan days and the comedy of manners as
perfected by Congreve. One of Etherege’s stage characters,
Sir Fopling Flutter, is a Restoration type, and somewhat dif-
ferent from the stock types of preceding periods. Etherege’s
plays are rather poor in construction, and are surpassed in wit
by those that followed; but they have the genuine Restoration-
comedy flavor—frothiness and grace, mixed with the spice of
naughtiness. After Etherege came four writers—Wycherley,
Congreve, Farquhar and Vanbrugh—who stand for all that is
glittering and frivolous in the comedy of the period.

Wiliam Wycherley. 1640-1715. The father of William
Wycherley sent him to school in France, where he embraced
the Roman Catholic faith. Upon coming to London he left the
Roman Church (temporarily, as it turned out), entered the
Temple as a student of law, and later became tutor to one of
the more obscure members of ‘the royal family. Four comedies,
including The Country Wife and The Plain Dealer, came from
his pen between 1670 and 1680. He offended the king, how-
ever, by a secret marriage and was thrown into prison for debt,
where he remained for several years. Charles’s successor,
James, on witnessing a performance of The Plain Dealer, was
so impressed with the genius of the author that he paid
Wycherley’s debts and gave him a pension of two hundred
pounds a year. Prosperity, however, did not support his

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genius; for he produced no more witty plays. He returned
to the Roman Church, received sundry comfortable appoint-
ments and lived to the age of seventy-five as a fashionable man
of the city.

William Congreve. 1670-1729. Congreve, the most cele-
brated writer of this group, was the son of an English officer
living in Ireland, and was educated at Trinity, Dublin. His
first play, The Old Bachelor, written at the age of twenty-
three, was a great success. The Double Dealer, following al-
most immediately, brought forth the praise of Dryden, the
autocrat of English letters At the age of twenty-seven Con-
greve had gained a prestige scarcely less in importance than
that of Dryden himself. Not only as a comic wit, but as a
writer of noble tragedy was he esteemed. He promised his
hopeful managers to eee a play a year, but the promise was
not kept. Love for Love appeared in 1695, followed by The
RiP atntny Bride two years later. After one more comedy,
The Way of the World, which seems to have been something
of a failure on the boards, Congreve, at the age of thirty, gave
up writing for the stage. He affected to despise the profes-
sion of dramatist. Voltaire visited him, Dryden praised him,
and Pope dedicated to him his translation of the Iliad. Swift,
Steele, Lord Halifax, Mrs. Bracegirdle, and all the other fash-
ionable blades and fadies of the time were his friends; and he
had the honor of being buried in Westminster Abbey. In his
praise it should be said that, for almost the first time in Eng-
land, he brought to the service of the stage a painstaking art.
He cared much about the way a sentence was built, about bal-
ance, and getting the right shade of meaning. His diction is
exactly Mitted Ene oral use; and his pictures of the world of
wealth and fashion are diverting. Congreve is perhaps the
only English writer who can at all be compared with Moliére.

Sir John Vanbrugh (1664-1726) and George Farquhar

(1678-1707), with Congreve and W ycherley, make up the cele-
oe quartet of Restoration wits, the creators of the drama
of gallantry. Vanbrugh was of Flemish ancestry, and attained
an eminent position as architect. His comedies were highly
successful, showing careful craftsmanship, a genuine comicTHE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS 257

gift, and a constant flow of animal vigor. Farquhar was more
sympathetic and human than Vanbrugh, but was likewise noisy
and full of mirth.

The heroes of the Restoration comedies were lively gentle-
men of the city, profligates and loose livers, with a strong tend-
ency to make love to their neighbors’ wives. Husbands and
fathers were dull, stupid creatures. The heroines, for the most
part, were lovely and pert, too frail for any purpose beyond the
glittering tinsel in which they were clothed. Their companions
were busybodies and gossips, amorous widows or jealous
wives. The intrigues which occupy them are not, on the whole,
of so low a nature as those depicted in the Italian court com-
edies ; but still they are sufficiently coarse. Over all the action
is the gloss of superficial good breeding and social ease. Only
rarely do these creatures betray the traits of sympathy, faith-
fulness, kindness, honesty, or loyalty. They follow a life of
pleasure, bored, but yawning behind a delicate fan or a ker-
chief of lace. Millamant and Mirabell, in Congreve’s Way of
the World, are among the most charming of these Watteau
figures.

Nature of Restoration comedy. In almost every important
respect, Restoration drama was far inferior to the Elizabethan.
Where the earlier playwrights created powerful and original
characters, the Restoration writers were content to portray re-
peatedly a few artificial types; where the former were imag-
inative, the latter were clever and ingenious. The Elizabethan
dramatists were steeped in poetry, the later ones in the sophisti-
cation of the fashionable world. The drama of Wycherley and
Congreve was the reflection of a small section of life, and it
was like life in the same sense that the mirage is like the
oasis. It had polish, an edge, a perfection in its own field;
but both its perfection and its naughtiness now seem unreal.

Everywhere in the Restoration plays are traces of European
influence. The Plain Dealer of Wycherley was an English
version of The Misanthrope of Moliére; and there are many
admirable qualities in the French play which are lacking in the
English. The Double Dealer recalls scenes from The Learned
Ladies (Les femmes savantes); and Mr. Bluffe, in The Old258 THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS

Bachelor, is none other than our old friend Miles Gloriosus,
who has traveled through Latin, Italian and French comedy.
The national taste was coming into harmony, to a considerable
extent, with the standards of Europe. Eccentricities were
curbed ; ideas, characters, and story material were interchanged.
The plays, however, were not often mere imitations; in the
majority of them there is original observation and independ-
ence of thought. It was this drama that kept the doors of
the theater open and the love of the theater alive in the face
of great public opposition.

Women playwrights. Soon after the Restoration women
began to appear as writers of drama. Mrs. Aphra Behn (1640-
1689) was one of the first and most industrious of English
women playwrights. Her family name was Amis (some
writers say Johnson). As the wife of a wealthy Dutch mer-
chant she lived for some time in Surinam (British Guiana).
Her novel, Oroonooko, furnished Southerne with the plot for
a play of the same name. After the death of her husband,
Mrs. Behn was for a time employed by the British government
in a political capacity. She was the author of eighteen plays,
most of them highly successful and fully as indecent as any
by Wycherley or Vanbrugh. Mrs. Manly and Mrs. Susannah
Centlivre, both of whom lived until well into the eighteenth
century, also achieved success as playwrights. The adaptations
from the French, made by Mrs. Centlivre, were very popular
and kept the stage for nearly a century.

Collier’s attack on the stage. Although the Puritans had lost
their dominance as a political power, yet they had not lost cour-
age in abusing the stage. The most violent attack was made by
the clergyman Jeremy Collier in 1698, in a pamphlet called
A Short View of the Immorality and Profaneness of the Eng-
lish Stage, in which he denounced not only Congreve and Van-
brugh, but Shakespeare and most of the Elizabethans. Three
points especially drew forth his denunciations: the so-called
lewdness of the plays, the frequent references to the Bible and
biblical characters, and the criticism, slander and abuse flung
from the stage upon the clergy. He would not have any Des-
demona, however chaste, show her love before the footlights ;THE RESTORATION DRAMATISTS 259

he would allow no reference in a comedy to anything con-
nected with the Church or religion; and especially would he
prohibit any portrayal of the clergy. Next to the men in holy
orders, Collier had a tender heart for the nobility. He said
in effect that if any ridicule or satire were to be indulged in,
it should be against persons of low quality. To call a duke a
rascal on the stage was far worse than to apply such an epithet
to plain Hodge, almost as libellous as to represent a clergyman
as a hypocrite. Collier made the curiously stupid error of
accusing the playwrights of glorifying all the sins, passions,
or peculiarities which they portrayed in their characters. He
had no understanding of the point of view of the literary artist,
nor any desire to understand it.

Collier’s attack, unjust as it was, and foolish as certain
phases of it appear today, yet made an impression. The king,
James II, was so wrought up over it that he issued a solemn
proclamation “against vice and profaneness.” Congreve and
Vanbrugh, together with other writers, were prosecuted, and
fines were imposed upon some of the most popular actors and
actresses. Dryden, Congreve and Vanbrugh made an attempt
at a justification of the stage, but it did little good. D’Urfey,
Dennis, and others entered the controversy, which raged for
many years. The public buzzed with the scandal set forth in
The Short View, but did not stay away altogether from the
playhouses. The poets answered the attack not by reforma-
tion, but by new plays in which the laughter, the satire, and
the ridicule were turned upon their enemies.

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CHAPTER XXVII
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND

The period .. . is distinguished by certain well-marked charac-
teristics from any other in European literature. In none has the
flame of poetry sunk so low; in none has the play of intelligence
been more lively; in none has there been a more bountiful supply
of sheer cleverness.—J. H. Mitiar, The Mid-Eighteenth Century.

In England in the eighteenth century only two writers, Gold-
smith and Sheridan, were distinguished in drama. Men of
brilliant minds were directing their efforts to other enter-
prises,—history, science, philosophy, or prose fiction. The
status of the stage was shifting. The actor and playwright
were no longer mainly dependent for protection and support
upon the favor of royalty or some member of the nobility.
Play-producing had become a business. The two companies,
under Davenant and Killigrew respectively, which had received
royal patents immediately after the Restoration, in the eight-
eenth century united and gave their performances at Drury
Lane Theater. Somewhat earlier a license had been granted
to another company which played at first in Lincoln’s Inn
Fields, but in 1733 settled at Covent Garden. In 1705 Van-
brugh the playwright built a theater at Haymarket.

Drury Lane Theater, which was under the management of
Colley Cibber during the earlier part of the eighteenth cen-
tury, afterwards came into the hands of David Garrick, who
managed it for nearly thirty years. From him it fell to Sheri-
dan. The century was marked by the appearance of great
actors and actresses. Mrs. Oldfield, Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Wof-
fington, Charles Macklin, and David Garrick could lend dis-
tinction even to a mediocre play. There was a steady demand
for the Elizabethans,—Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Beaumont

260THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 261

and Fletcher. Shakespeare was revised, adapted, moralized
and bowdlerized until very little of the original remained.
Translations of Corneille and Racine were given, also the trag-
edies of Voltaire,—Alzire, Zaire, Mérope. In theory at least,
the influence of critics was against the romantic temper of the
Elizabethans and in favor of the more formal practices of the
French.

Addison’s Cato. 1713. Early in the century the neo-classic
influence was given a great boom by the triumph of Addison’s
Cato, in which the three unities are observed and the charac-
ters clothed in what was supposed to be antique dignity and
grandeur. The theme is Cato’s stand for liberty against the
suspected domination of Czsar, and his choice of death rather
than submission. The verse flows with ponderous strength
and has many quotable passages; but to most readers of today
the play as a whole is monotonous and dull. The London audi-
ence, however, greeted it with enthusiasm, and for a month it
was played to crowded houses.1 The sentiments of liberty, put
into the mouth of Cato, could easily be translated into political
opinions of 1713. Dr. Johnson reported that the Whigs ap-
plauded every line in which liberty was mentioned, and that
the Tories likewise applauded to show that they were not to
be outdone in admiration of freedom. Voltaire, with easy as-
surance, called Cato the “first reasonable English tragedy.”

The vogue of classicism, In the years that followed, the
weight of authority was largely on the side of the classic form,
while the popular instinct steadily turned away from it. Men
of learning like Johnson, or men of curious genius like Smol-
lett, came to London in considerable numbers, each carrying a
play in his pocket; and that play was sure to be in the classic
style of Cato. John Home’s Douglas (1756) was the only trag-
edy of its time that could compete in popularity, even for a short
period, with Shakespeare and the pantomimes. It was written
in verse and is remembered today, when remembered at all, for
its once-familiar school recitation piece, “My name is Norval.”
Of the score of classic pieces written scarcely one showed the
flair for the theater or the human sympathy which covers all

1A month was a long run in the eighteenth century.

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sins. English tragedy had lost its glory. Cato had killed the
species.

Ballad-opera, Italian opera and pantomime. Meanwhile,
there appeared during the century a number of sub-varieties
of entertainment, such as the ballad-opera, which consists of a
light, romantic story, partly spoken and partly sung, with
pretty costumes and scenery, catchy music, and a fable which
taxes the intellect but slightly. Interest in the ballad-opera
was suddenly aroused by the success of The Beggar's Opera,
written by John Gay and produced in 1728. The piece is of
the mock-heroic type, the characters being pickpockets, inform-
ers and constables, and the plot full of diverting incidents.
Under the apparently innocent story spectators could detect a
sly satire upon the political and party leaders of the day. For
weeks all London talked of the new opera, not only on account
of its satire, but also because of its charm and gaiety. Gay
wrote a sequel called Polly, but the Lord Chancellor refused
to license its production, and it was brought out in book form
by subscription.

Gay had many imitators, but there was no one in his imme-
diate following who achieved an equal success. The style of
the ballad-opera, however, has persisted and is one of the popu-
lar species of the stage of today. There were also in eight-
eenth century London successful productions of Italian opera.
Regular producers, like Colley Cibber, resented this invasion of
a foreign type of amusement; and Steele called it “an insult
to the English stage,” a mark of vulgar taste, and a sign of
the decadence of the times. Even worse, in the estimation of
these judges, was the revival of interest in the pantomime—a
kind of play-acting which, as we know, is almost as old as
man himself.

Influence of Lillo and Moore. There were two eighteenth
century tragedies which deserve attention not so much because
of intrinsic merit as on account of their influence upon Euro-
pean drama. The first of these is The London Merchant, or
The History of George Barnwell, written by George Lillo and
produced in 1731. The title indicates the play’s chief claim to
attention: namely, the hero is a tradesman and not a prince orTHE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 263

a warrior. Even to an indulgent reader the piece is full of
bad writing, tiresome characters and absurdities of situation;
nevertheless it was a great success. Twenty-two years later,
in 1753, appeared another and a better play, The Gamester by
Edward Moore, which illustrated the same revolutionary ideas
as to subject, theme and construction as did Barnwell. The
notable thing about these plays is that their fame went abroad.
Up to this time the English had imported, but scarcely ever
exported their theatrical pieces. In France Diderot and Jean
Jacques Rousseau were delighted with Barnwell, and Diderot
used it as an illustration of his revolutionary ideas concerning
the drama. His theory was that subjects should be taken from
common life, that prose should be used, the unities abandoned,
and much greater freedom allowed both in theme and form.
In Germany the young Lessing was formulating similar princi-
ples in opposition to Voltaire and his classical dogma. The
success of Barnwell and The Gamester gave these rebels the
encouragement they needed.

Minor writers and stock themes. Among the irreverent scof-
fers who looked upon the current theatrical offerings with an
ironical eye was Henry Fielding (1707-1754), whose genius,
despite its undoubted greatness, never brought him to the front
rank as dramatist. He experimented with comedy, burlesque,
and adaptations from the French comic writers. The tone of
good-humored satire, first heard in The Beggar's Opera, was
carried much further by Fielding in his ridicule of politicians
and plays. He became so brutal and indecent in his attacks,
however, that the government was forced to interfere. In 1737
Parliament passed the Licensing Act, which amounted to an
active censorship, through which the stage was freed from the
worst forms of coarseness. Fielding was one of the earliest
discoverers of the value of the “Little Theater” for plays which
did not find a welcome on the commercial stage.

During this period of mediocrity there were many writers of
comedy, though none of the first rank. The Liar and The
Minor, by Samuel Foote, are still entertaining. Foote’s fun
lay chiefly in tags of current slang and local hits. Isaac Bicker-
staff turned out librettos for comic operas. The stock themesen

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204 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND

of comedy constantly reappeared: the gullible and betrayed
husband, the illicit amours of the city gallant, the conflict be-
tween town and country. Adaptations and translations were
made wholesale from the French theater, while at the same time
Shakespeare and the other Elizabethans were revamped and
produced in extraordinary guise. George Colman the elder,
well known both as manager and playwright, produced King
Lear with a “happy” ending, made translations of Terence, and
excelled most of his contemporaries in the charm and original-
ity of his own pieces. As manager Colman had the distinc-
tion of producing Goldsmith’s first comedy, The Good Natured
Man; and he also wrote the Epilogue to Sheridan’s School for
Scandal. Two comedies held the stage for many years: High
Life Below Stairs (1759), by James Townley, and The Man
of the World, by Macklin, an actor-playwright who lived a
full century. Richard Cumberland, whose best work was The
Wheel of Fortune, wrote thirty-seven plays and created at least
one memorable character in Sir Fretful Plagiary.

Sentimental comedy. Meantime English drama did not es-
cape a kind of disease which had spread over Europe,—a dis-
ease illustrated most clearly by the “tearful comedy” (comédie
larmoyante) of France. In general tearful comedy depicted
innocence in distress, goodness pursued by evil, and modesty
just at the point of being outraged by the rough and rude
blatherskites of the world. The point of the play, of course,
consisted in the triumph of virtue and the discomfiture of the
bold bad man. The whole school was enveloped in an atmos-
phere of affectation and false delicacy—which, by the way,
was the title of a play by Kelly. The structure of plot was
in general better than the dialogue. Colley Cibber, manager,
actor, and poet laureate, was inclined toward this type, as were
also Kelly, Whitehead, and Arthur Murphy. As tragedy had
committed suicide through Cato, so comedy expired “in the
embraces of an artificial sweetness.”

Oliver Goldsmith. 1728-1774. The dramatic dullness was
at last broken by the appearance of Oliver Goldsmith, who was
born in Ireland, educated partly at Trinity, partly in Edinburgh
and on the continent. Having been apprenticed in his earlyTHE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 26s

youth to an apothecary, he actually attained a professional posi-
tion as a doctor of medicine, and followed it at different times
during his life. He was also an usher in a school, a writer
of magazine articles, a poet and a playwright.

Goldsmith came to London in 1756; but it was not until
about twelve years later that he produced The Good Natured
Man, a play which made genial fun of tearful comedy, that is,
of humbug and affectation in affairs of gallantry. Like every
reform in art, that of Goldsmith heralded a return to nature.
It was in no sense, however, a return to the indecent and sor-
did side of nature, but a bid for laughter and good sense in-
stead of tears and sighs. A second play, She Stoops to Con-
quer, or The Mistakes of a Night, produced in 1773, was even
better than the first. From a technical point of view it has
faults of construction, inconsistencies and lapses; but beneath
all these trifling defects are indestructible gaiety, a healthy
tone, and the accent of genuine character. After the wanton-
ness of Dryden, the indecencies of Vanbrugh, or the cloying
sentiment of Hugh Kelly or Murphy, the penetrating, gentle
humor of Goldsmith comes like a breath of mountain air on a
sultry day. The plays have an ingratiating charm which dis-
arms criticism and almost defies analysis. Doctor Johnson,
whose judgments were seldom too lenient, bequeathed the fa-
mous remark about Goldsmith: “He left almost no kind of
writing untouched, and touched nothing that he did not adorn.”

Richard Brinsley Sheridan. 1751-1816. During the greater
part of the eighteenth century the theater in Ireland had a
brilliant history, and many celebrated people were connected
with it. Macklin, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Woffington, Congreve,
Farquhar, and Sheridan were all Irish either by birth or edu-
cation. Sheridan was born in Dublin of English parents, his
mother being the author of a novel called Sidney Buddulph.
She recommended her son to the headmaster at Harrow by tell-
ing him that Richard was a dunce. (One suspects that this
was merely a literary gesture.) At the age of twenty-one
Richard made a romantic elopement with Elizabeth Linley,
one of the famous “nest of nightingales,” and the couple came
to London.266 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND

All of Sheridan’s important work was produced between
1775 and 1779. Upon the retirement of Garrick, he became
owner and manager of Drury Lane Theater, and so stepped at
once into a position of influence. With occasional brilliant
ventures as exceptions, he proved himself a rather careless and
reckless man of business. He went into Parliament as Whig
member and came quickly into notice as an orator, particularly
at the trial of Warren Hastings. For twenty years or more he
lived in London as man of fashion, professional wit and
wastrel, and companion of dissolute princes. At his death
Lord Byron said that Sheridan had written the best play
(meaning The School), the best opera (meaning The Duenna),
and had made the best oration of the times (the one in defense
of Hastings). He closed his rather inflated eulogium by say-
ing that with his death “Nature broke the die.”

Although Sheridan was twenty-three years younger than
Goldsmith, yet his period of productivity fell within the same
decade as that which witnessed the hilarities of The Good Na-
tured Man and She Stoops to Conquer. Sheridan took up
the crusade against sentimental comedy at the point where
Goldsmith dropped it, but he was not a prolific writer. He re-
vamped a play of Vanbrugh’s (4 Trip to Scarborough), wrote
one farce, one comic opera, one dull tragedy, and three com-
edies. He was a master of smart repartee, lively dialogue, and
easy playfulness. His plots are somewhat better defined and
more clearly constructed than those of Goldsmith; but he lacks
the sunny, human quality that made the older man so lovable. —

Even the least friendly critic would probably admit that
The School for Scandal is the best eighteenth century play.
It has entertaining turns of action and a steady flow of spar-
kling dialogue. Technically it is not quite so well constructed
as The Rivals, and the famous screen scene was borrowed
from Moliére. The main plot and the under-plot do not dove-
tail very well, and the action often waits while the scandal-
mongers destroy the reputations of their friends; but the char-
acters are alive, the plot is entertaining, and minor blemishes
are easily forgotten. Charles Lamb said it was some com-
pensation for growing old, to have seen The School in itsa a

Mrs. Fiske, as Mrs. Malaprop, in Sheridan’s The Rivals

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iTHE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN ENGLAND 267

glory, meaning not only the play but also the fine troupe of
actors originally cast for its performance. It is said to have
been the favorite stage piece of Washington. Hazlitt called it
“the most finished and faultless comedy we have,” and Henry
James commented on its “literary atmosphere and tone of so-
cletyi

One of Sheridan’s excellences was his oral style, perfectly
adapted to the tongue. This quality is marked in The School
and The Rivals, which have long outlasted his other works.
The Duenna, however, was remarkably successful in its time,
running for seventy consecutive nights at Drury Lane, and
holding the stage more or less for fifty years. The Critic
belongs to high-class farce, and is rated as a masterpiece by no
less a judge than Mr. George Saintsbury. It is a burlesque
on the high-flown style of tragedy, and bears some resemblance

to The Rehearsal (written mainly by George Villiers), in which
the heroic dramas of Dryden were ridiculed. In The Critic
the author showed great theatrical skill in managing the inter-
play between the mock actors, the manager, the critics and the
author. Sheridan himself said that he valued the first act of
The Critic more than anything else he ever wrote.

It is only too evident that in the progress of the eighteenth
century English drama fell upon evil days. One realizes with
difficulty the wealth of imagination and prodigality of genius
which marked the drama of the Elizabethans. All its rich
qualities had now disappeared. Sheridan and Goldsmith
flared up like meteors. They produced the last of the English
plays, previous to our time, which were both readable and
actable. Mr. John Drinkwater, in commenting upon them,
said: “After their death, the drama in England rapidly dropped
into the gutter, and was not drawn out of it again until a
hundred years had passed.”

ermalCHAPTER XXVIII

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN FRANCE, ITALY
AND SPAIN

It was an age of reason, of severe literary discipline, which
gave attention to the externals of technic more than to the mys-
tery of life; and on its worst side ran to dead formula and mean-
ingless phrase—JOHN ERSKINE.

FRANCE

At the beginning of the eighteenth century the prestige of
France in all matters relating to literature and art was un-
questioned. The great reign of Louis XIV had brought the
country into the foremost place as a center of culture and
learning. Peace had been relatively secure, and men of letters
had been encouraged. Moliere, Corneille, and Racine had all
died within the last twenty-seven years of the seventeenth cen-
tury, but the splendor of their achievement had not yet waned.
Encouraged by their success and by the establishment of per-
manent theaters, playwrights increased in number, and new
types of plays began to appear. One of these new types was
called, rather inappropriately, drame, meaning a serious work
not quite in the class with conventional tragedy. In this group
were included the tragédie bourgeoise, dealing with common-
place people and often ending in comparative happiness; also
the sad or tearful pieces (comédie larmoyante) which, trans-
planted to England, became the sentimental comedy of Murphy
or Kelly. There was also the comedietta, a short piece, some-
times with music, resembling the “one-acter” of the modern
vaudeville.

The writers who bridge the gap between the neo-classicists
and Voltaire were often men of considerable talent, but there
was no first-rate genius among them. Fontenelle, nephew of

268FRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 269

the great Corneille, was a writer of comedies, who broke away
from the habit of writing in verse. Seven of his eight plays
are in prose. Regnard sought to imitate Moliére, but lacked
the depth and earnestness which make an artist important.
Dufresny, who collaborated with Regnard, consciously disen-
gaged himself from the influence of Moliére and attempted
new themes and situations. Dancourt was an actor whose
prose plays definitely enlarged the field of comedy. He por-
trayed the world of business, the demi-monde, and the com-
mon occupations ; and at the same time he revived the old, yet
ever new, conflicts between the sour guardian and youth, pic-
tured the rogue entrapped in his own roguery, and the wise
man caught in his weaknesses. The ideas of Dancourt were in
the right line, but his equipment as dramatist was not suffi-
cient to give much weight to his work.

There were likewise writers of tragedy, well thought of and
fairly successful in their day, who have left little trace in dra-
matic history. The most distinguished of these was Crébillon
the Elder, whose Idoménée (1703) and Rhadamiste et Zénobie
(1711) were far above the level of the majority of the dra-
matic offerings of his time. There were Pompignan, who again
brought Dido from the dead; Saurin who wrote about Spar-
tacus; and Belloy who, among other themes, dramatized the
triumphs of Titus. It is evident that the genius of modern
classicism had passed the peak of its development; the decline
had set in. Before the low-water mark was reached. however,
there rose a man of energy and _ intellect—Voltaire—who
achieved a somewhat hectic career as a dramatist and gave his
name to a period.

Frangois Marie Arouet (Voltaire). 1694-1778. The young
writer Arouet, who is said to have written his famous trag-
edy, CEdipe, at the age of nineteen, adopted the name Voltaire
after the successful production of that play in 1718. He was
born in Paris of a middle-class family and educated by Jesuit
priests. From his earliest youth he seems to have breathed
skepticism and a spirit of rebellion against intolerance. Twice
he was imprisoned in the Bastille, and more than once he was
forced to leave France. One of his periods of exile (1726-)
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270 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

1728) was spent in England, where he shrewdly observed many
contrasts to the customs in his own country. It was during
this period that he sought out Congreve, who affected to dis-
dain his visitor’s admiration of him as a dramatist, saying he
was but a “gentleman of the world.” Voltaire promptly re-
plied, “If you were but that, then I should not care to see
you.”

Voltaire’s writings gained friends for him among the most
distinguished people of Europe. In 1745 he became a mem-
ber of the French Academy and was ennobled. Catherine of
Russia corresponded with him, and Frederick of Prussia in-
vited him to Berlin, where he remained for some years. The
last twenty years of his life were spent on his estate at Fer-
ney, near Geneva in Switzerland. When in 1778 he visited
Paris again after a long absence, he was welcomed by throngs
of the populace with an enthusiasm that spread throughout the
city. Few kings or emperors were ever so honored. Voltaire,
however, was then in his eighty-fourth year, and the presenta-
tions, visits, and ceremonies proved to be too great a strain
on his health. He died in Paris, May 30, 1778.

Voltaire’s plays. With the success of Gédipe, Voltaire won
almost immediately the first place among living French drama-
tists. He continued to write for the stage for more than fifty
years, producing something like twenty tragedies and a dozen
comedies. He came near absolute failure in the latter species;
but one of his pieces, L’Enfant prodigue, is still remembered.
Such genius as he had for the stage lay in tragedy. Zaire
(1732) and Mérope (1743) are among the best of his plays.
He obtained plot material from sources which before his time
had never been touched, such as China, South America, and
Mexico. Unfamiliar countries and ages attracted him; never-
theless, he did not overlook the conventional sources of supply.
In Mérope he borrowed from the Italian Maffei; and Cor-
neille, Calderon and Shakespeare all furnished him with ideas.
He had the supreme theatrical gift of portraying a sharp con-
flict: between patriotism and love, as in Brutus; between love
and religious duty, as in Zaire; between love and filial obedi-
ence, as in Alzire and Tancréde. In the play L’Orphelin deFRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 271

Chine, taken from an ancient Chinese story, the conflict be-
tween parental love and patriotic duty takes unusual turn. If
a love interest were not present, he nearly always borrowed or
invented one, Oreste being the only drama in which it is absent.
In the best of his work the action is carried on with spirit and
vigor; and if the original plot were not sufficiently striking, he
created something to make it so.

Voltaire was greatly influenced by English drama, and in
early life he expressed his admiration for Shakespeare. As
he gained an authoritative position among men of letters in
Europe, however, he became satirical about the practices of the
English, calling Shakespeare “a savage with some imagina-
tion,” and “a Corneille at London, elsewhere a great fool.” He
was annoyed by the English disregard for formality, by the
exuberance of fancy, the mixture of comic and tragic elements
in the same piece, the absence of the unities, and carelessness
as to poetic form. Gradually he evolved what he considered
to be a correct formula: namely, the use of the alexandrine
rhymed verse, the observance of the unities, the differentiation
between tragedy and comedy, and the presentation of people of
importance as heroes. Sophocles, and after him Racine, |were
the true models. Addison’s Cato was truly great, the only fine
tragedy in English!

Superficially it would seem that Voltaire was attached to
the classic mode; and in Oreste, it must be admitted, he actually
followed his own theories to some extent, abolishing the love
interest, the confidants, and other features which had been
injected by Renaissance writers. The majority of his ‘plays,
however, reveal the fact that he was in practice very little
troubled by rules classical or otherwise. WHenever the ob-
servance of the unities embarrassed him, he disregarded them;
or, observing them, he caused an absurd foreshortening of
events into an impossibly brief period of time. Only the shell
of classicism—pseudo-classicism—was kept; its austere and
noble tone, its reliance upon the deepest springs of human
sympathy, its wholesome lessons of courage and endurance
“purging the soul through pity and terror,”’—these things were
forgotten in the desire to be sensational at any cost. Neverthe-ae

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272 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

less, Voltaire as dramatist stands head and shoulders above
his fellow craftsmen. Writing of the eighteenth century,
Saintsbury says: “Were it not for the prodigious genius of
Voltaire, not a single tragedy of the age would have much
Chance of being read, still less of being performed; and were
itjnot for that genius, and the unequal but still remarkable
talent of Crebillon the Elder, not a single tragedy of the age
would be worth reading.”

In, a peculiar way Voltaire was representative of his age.
Skepticism, ardor for new things, rashness, zeal, keen sensi-
bilitiey with comparatively little depth,—these were his charac-
teristies. He was the crack journalist of his time. His great
virtué was his courage in a fight; and his whole life was a
battle for intellectual liberty, religious tolerance, and freedom
of speech. The modern world would be infinitely poorer, more
enslaved, had it not been for his courageous and lifelong rebel-
lion against every sort of tyranny. Often he inserted his
teachings of independence into his plays. Lacking in the gift
of poetry and an understanding of the human heart, he was
unable to give his dialogue the accent of real life and passion;
but he was able to dramatize a thrilling story and at the same
time preach a sermon. Voltaire as dramatist was merely the
greatest in a poverty-stricken age; but Voltaire, the banner-
bearer of intellectual and personal liberty, is still marching on.

Prdduction of Shakespeare in France. Although in his later
years jVoltaire scoffed at Shakespeare, yet he was instrumental
in intfoducing the English dramatist into France; and many
strange “adaptations” were seen. In making these changes,
the adapters were influenced by the older classical writers,
such as Racine. Characters which in the original performed
bloody and hair-raising deeds on the open stage, in the Gallic
version were sent behind the scenes, and their crimes were re-
lated by that pest, the Messenger. Hamlet was changed into
a dutiful son; Lear, Macbeth, and Romeo were provided with
happy endings. As to Lear, there was grave doubt about the
propriety of introducing a king as crazy ashe upon the Pari-
sian stage, whatever his end might be. Shakespeare, however,
survived the indiscretions of friends and enemies alike, andFRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 273

gained a firm foothold, six of his plays being translated by
the writer Ducis alone.

Comedy in France. The eighteenth century produced no
Moliére, but there were writers of acceptable comedy—LeSage,
Piron, Destouches, and a few others. LeSage, in his prose
comedy Turcaret (1709), satirized the corruption of financiers,
the loose morals of the nobility, the absurdities of provincial
pride, and the mean ways of shopkeepers. Destouches left at
least seventeen comedies, among them Le philosophe manié
(1727) and Le glorieux (1732), both worthy of being remem-
bered. Piron is said to have accomplished the difficult feat of
composing a comic opera and using but a single actor.

Pierre Carlet de Chamberlain de Marivaux. 1688-1763.
More than thirty comedies remain from this romantic writer,
who gave his name to a special style of language, marivaudage,
meaning a delicate but affected expression of emotion. Mar}-
vaux avoided violence, but displayed a wealth of wit, surprise
and entertainment. He gave the first place to the heart rather
than to the intellect, and so insinuated a romantic interest into
plots which had very little action. His plays enjoyed great
popularity, and are even now known on the stage. The char-
acters are more natural than those created by earlier writers;
and at the same time they are sophisticated and elegant. The
theme is always love; and the “big” scenes always portray
the crisis of some affaire du ceur.

Pierre Claude de la Chaussée. 1692-1754. It has been said
that the chief business of La Chaussée was to afford the public
the luxury of tears. His name is inseparably connected with
the comédie larmoyante. He had imbibed some of the philoso-
phy of Rousseau, and his plays can often be reduced to the
thesis: Whatever is sanctioned by love is right; unrestrained
actions are a sign of force of character; the heart and its pas-
sions must rule. Unfortunately, La Chaussée had not suff-
cient genius to prove his thesis. His plays were popular with-
out being very highly regarded. Voltaire made fun of them;
and other critics complained of their unreality and lack of
strength. They are written in verse in which may be found
many improving sentiments.274 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

Denis Diderot. 1713-1784. One of the important intellec-
tual leaders of the eighteenth century was Diderot, who had
definite ideas concerning the reformation of the drama. He
was not an admirer of the high-riding style of Voltaire; but
he was greatly interested in English plays such as The London
Merchant and The Gamester, which took for their chief char-
acters people of the middle class. Diderot claimed that the
theater had been too remote from real life, that it should be
used as an educational medium, that prose was the more natu-
ral vehicle, and that the fable should illustrate the duties,
temptations and peculiarities of the special class of society in
which the hero finds himself. In other words, the stage should
be used to teach men how to conduct themselves in their own
sphere. Diderot’s two principal plays, Le fils naturel and Le
pere de famille, written soon after the middle of the century,
are dull and rather priggish, but the theories they set forth
found a response. The drame bourgeois, which may be said
to begin with the appearance of Le fils naturel, has not yet
ended its course. The actions of kings and mythological
heroes became, at last, of less importance than the experiences
of Tom, Dick and Harry, who represent the common man.
Followers of Diderot’s theory wrote pieces no less concerned
with bourgeois virtues, but better suited to the stage than those
of their master. Sedaine, La Harpe, and Mercier continued the
use of common themes in plays which now seem dreary and
absurd, but were stirring for their time. The French stage
then, as for the century previous, was far cleaner and more
decent than the English stage of the corresponding period.
Wives, sisters, and mothers could witness the drame bourgeois
not only without injury to their modesty, but with benefit to
their education. The air of the theater became a bit heavy and
oppressive with its domesticity, but at least it was “near to the
people.”

Pierre Augustin Caron (Beaumarchais). 1732-1799. As
Sheridan and Goldsmith afforded a brilliant exit for eighteenth
century English drama, so Beaumarchais in France relieved
the general dramatic stodginess of the dying century. The
career of Beaumarchais is sufficiently remarkable in itself toFRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 275

afford a theme for a playwright. As an inventive genius he
devised a new escapement for timepieces, and became “clock-
maker to the king,” Louis XV. He took the name Beau-
marchais from the wealthy widow whom he married. After
her death he was appointed instructor in music to the daugh-
ters of the sovereign; and after a second marriage and widow-
hood, he was again made some sort of court official. He was
involved in lawsuits, and made and lost a fortune in specula-
tion. During the American Revolution he financed the ship-
ping of supplies and ammunition to the colonists, sending out
his own cruiser, named “Le fier Roderique,” in the D’Estang
fleet. During the reign of terror he resided in Holland, and
upon returning found that his mansion had been destroyed.
He died the same year as Washington, with his claims against
the United States government still unsettled.

At about the age of thirty-five Beaumarchais became inter-
ested in Diderot’s ideas of drama, and sought to touch a pa-
thetic vein in the tragedy Eugénie (1767), which treats of
everyday events in the life of common people. The play was
a failure; but in 1775 he won an extraordinary success with
The Barber of Seville; only, however, after an initial failure
and a revision of the first text. The play is in five acts, in
prose, and the chief character, Figaro, is the lying, intriguing
servant familiar to us since the time of Plautus. The plot,
though simple, is full of surprising and amusing turns, the wit
flows, and the character study gives excellent opportunity for
the actor.

Nine years after his first success Beaumarchais wrote The
Marriage of Figaro, which was so permeated with revolution-
ary ideas that public performance was forbidden. The author
had to content himself with reading it in private houses. When
in 1784 its presentation was permitted, the crowd at the
Théatre Francais was so great that three people were crushed
to death. Strangely enough, this “seditious” play in time be-
came popular even with royalty. Enacted by amateurs of the
court of Louis XV, the chief woman character was imperso-
nated by Marie Antoinette. It is very amusing, even now.
The Barber and The Marriage of Figaro are widely knownij
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276 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

and accepted as the most famous French comedies of the eight-
eenth century, and among the celebrated comedies of the world.
They found a new sort of immortality in opera, The Barber
being composed by Rossini, The Marriage by Mozart.

ITALY

For Italy, as for other sections of Europe, the seventeenth
century was a period of political and military strife, with the
art of the stage in a precarious condition. By the beginning of
the eighteenth century the commedia dell’ arte, or improvised
comedy, had begun to decline. The stock types represented by
the masks and the conventional comic situations, however, con-
tinued to hold the stage. So firmly were they entrenched in the
popular favor that talented new writers could but with diff-
culty dislodge them. The low farcical entertainments consti-
tuted the most disreputable rival to regular comedy; but the
new art of opera, which had developed with surprising rapid-
ity, was the most powerful rival of all.

Carlo Goldont. 1707-1793. Regular comedy in Italy was
apparently about to expire when Goldoni appeared to bring it
back to life. He was a native of Venice, and began his career
by writing opera librettos. Gaining in experience and in tech-
nical skill, he cautiously attempted to replace the empty and
pornographic entertainments, which too often passed for comic
drama, by plays of innocent action representing contemporary
events and characters. One hundred and sixty comedies re-
main from his pen, twenty of which are in verse, the remainder
in prose, either of the Venetian dialect or the national language.
He is said to have written as many as sixteen pieces in one
year. His invention was remarkably fertile, and his sense of
comedy sprang from his understanding of the human emotions,
as real comedy always does. He was not profound, but he was
charming, witty, true to nature, with buoyant spirits and an
inexhaustible humor.

Another attempt at the purification of the stage was made
on quite a different principle by Carlo Gozzi (1722-1806),
who introduced the fantastic and remote. He dramatized theFRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 277

familiar fairy tales, such as Bluebeard and The Sleeping
Beauty, provided them with magnificent settings, and gave them
to the public with considerable pomp and ceremony. Gozzi dis-

liked the bourgeois style and parodied the comedies of Goldoni.

The writers of tragedy ented to treat the well known
plots in the same old way, growing more and more stale with
each repetition. Near the end of the seventeenth century the
Academy of Arcadians had been instituted at Rome. This
organization attempted to inject new life into tragedy, to
broaden the field, and to abolish the old-time stage trappings.
Among the few names which deserve to be remembered is that
of Scipione Maffei (1675- 1775), who possessed undisputed
talent combined with sincere feeling. His tragedy Merope
(1713) not only won great success, but aroused the admiration
of Voltaire, and inspired the English John Home with the idea
of Douglas. It is the last good play of the older Italian school.
Metastasio (1698-1782) was sites as a musician under
the Neapolitan composer Porpora, but won fame through his
librettos. The earliest of these, Dido abandonata (1724), like
almost all the work of Metastasio, is well constructed and en-
tertaining on the stage even without the adjunct of music. He
stands out, among the writers of the world in any language,
as excelling in pure and harmonious lyric verse. In the later
years of his life Metastasio held the post of court poet at
Vienna.

Vittorio Alfieri. 1749-1803. The name of Alfieri is one
of the greatest among Italian playwrights. He was of a
wealthy and noble family, and, like Voltaire, was born with a
passion for liberalizing the human spirit. He believed that the
drama of his country could be purified most effectively through
a re-introduction of the classic modes—(familiar w ords |e
and he therefore followed in the footsteps of Racine, taking
up one, and only one, thread of action, discarding underplots
and “relief,” and concentrating on the advancement of the plot.
The personages in his plays do not grow, but remain the same
from the beginning to the end. He was attracted by horrible
crimes and abnormal passions, was sombre in temperament and
inclined to be somewhat violent in his expressions, but pos-

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sessed of a kind of flaming intensity. Despising sentimentality
and the merely pretty adjuncts of drama, he was able to infuse
into his tragedies a kind of dark wisdom and sublimity. In
almost every play he revealed his detestation of tyranny
(which he considered identical with royalty), and his passion
for liberty, which he regarded as the dearest thing in life.
In five of his nineteen dramas the theme is the struggle for
freedom, and one of them is dedicated to Washington, “Lib-
erator dell’ America.’ He pictured the degradation of Flor-
ence under the rule of the Medici, and deeply resented the
condition of Italy in his own time.

SPAIN

During the early part of the eighteenth century Spain was
very little troubled by any ideas of progress in literature or
the arts. The drama was at its lowest ebb. Only the more
vulgar plays had survived from the previous century, and their
presentation was often accompanied by coarse and brutalizing
features. Even the language of Lope de Vega and Calderon
had gone under eclipse, French being used at court and in
smart society. Fashionable people patronized Italian opera or
the occasional performance of a French play. Boileau’s
theories concerning poetry and the drama were translated into
Spanish in 1737, but it was not until the latter half of the
century, under the sovereignty of Charles III, that men of
letters were encouraged. About that time some of the more
severe restrictions of the Church were removed, and there rose
the school of Salamanca, whose purpose was to revive interest
in the literature of earlier days and in the rich drama of Lope
and Calderon. Jovellanos, belonging to this school, left one
good comedy, The Honest Criminal, but his powers, for the
greater part of his life, were applied to politics rather than to
literature.

Another group of writers during the eighteenth century
sought to foster French drama. The leaders of this movement,
one of whom was the elder Moratin, attacked the autos, rep-
resenting them as too degrading and blasphemous to be tol-FRANCE, ITALY AND SPAIN 279

erated by civilized people. Moratin wrote the first Spanish
play modeled upon the French pattern, The Female Coxcomb
(Petimetra) published in 1762. Moratin’s son, Leandro, fol-
lowed his father’s ideas concerning the superiority of French
importations, and as dramatist was even more celebrated. He
gained the title of the “Spanish Moliére,” and his works are
still admired. The condemnation of the elder Moratin was so
effective that in 1768 the performance of the old sacred
mysteries was forbidden. The most successful writer for the
stage during the century was Ramon de la Cruz, who left up-
ward of three hundred dramatic compositions, based mostly
upon the everyday experiences of the middle and lower classes,
and faithfully exhibiting national types of character. La Cruz
attempted almost every species of stage entertainment, but was
most capable in his farces, which display a rough and ready
wit and considerable invention.

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CHAPTER XXIX

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN GERMANY
AND SCANDINAVIA

Conceived in godhead, born beside the altars, slain in the brothel
and born again in the soul of man—endlessly repeating in its own
person the story of its immortal and rejuvenate god, Dionysus—
the theater has lived the whole history of Europe. No art has
spanned such range of time and forms and morals. No art has so
changed and so remained the same.—KENNETH MaccowAn, The
Theater of Tomorrow.

GERMANY

In the two hundred years from the death of Hans Sachs in
1576 to the debut of Lessing in the last quarter of the eight-
eenth century, Germany had not much dramatic literature to
her credit. The devastating wars of the seventeenth century,
with the necessarily long periods of recovery, delayed the
development of all the arts. As in other countries, however,
there was also in Germany first, a spasmodic interest in uni-
versity productions of scholarly plays; and, secondly, a constant
supply of popular and vulgar farce. In regard to the first class,
the imitations of Latin comedies and the performance of the
originals, we have considerable evidence. Luther had no ob-
jection to the theater, and regarded two of the apocryphal
books, Judith and Tobit, as dramas, the first a tragedy, the
latter a comedy. Some of Luther’s followers used the stage
for purposes of Protestant propaganda; and one of them, Paul
Rebhun, introduced the custom of dividing plays into five acts
and ending each act with a chorus. Zwingli, at Zurich, inspired
a performance of Plutus by Aristophanes as early as 1531.
Thomas Naogeorg and J. C. Hofteufel were good Latin
scholars, able to make pleasing imitations of the Plautine

280GERMANY AND SCANDINAVIA 281

comedies. Nicodemus Frischlin, who flourished at Tubingen
in the last quarter of the sixteenth century, not only wrote
plays in Latin (which were performed before the court at
Stuttgart), but also in the vernacular. Under the veil of a
biblical story he ridiculed contemporaneous characters, such as
sly lawyers and extortionate innkeepers, Frischlin was gen-
erally regarded as too much of an innovator, especially by his
learned colleagues ; but early in the seventeenth century, at the
Academy Theater at Strassburg, his plays with those of
Naogeorg were performed with much success.

In 1587 appeared the earliest German Faust in story form;
and in the same year a traveling company of English come-
dians became very popular in Germany. They visited Berlin,
Dresden, Cologne and many other cities; and a little later we
hear of the Duke of Brunswick and the Duke of Hesse keeping
a troupe of English players at their courts. The Landgrave of
Cassel, to whom is due the honor of building the first court
theater, engaged English comedians who brought with them
Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Lear, Romeo and Juliet, and Marlowe’s
drama, Doctor Faustus. Whatever native products held the
stage were mostly melodramatic horrors or pieces of coarse
buffoonery, with Hans Wurst, the German clown, as the chief
performer. The entertainments often included processions,
fireworks and wrestling matches. An Italian troupe of players,
coming in 1670, of course introduced Harlequin to the public,
and his antics soon gained great popularity, especially in
Vienna. Transposed into the German type, Harlequin became
a composite of all the low comic characters of European
stages, such as Hans Wurst, Eulenspiegel, the Fool, Vice or
Devil of medieval days, or the sly servant, conjuror, or para-
site of still earlier times. He was sometimes called Pickle-
herring (Pickelharing), and his appearance was always associ-
ated with filthy jests. Sensational scenes could be contrived by
means of flying machines, trap doors leading into the infernal
regions, and transformation devices. Marionette plays were
common; and persons in control of the stage strove to keep
themselves independent of men of learning by doing without
the written play. On the whole, at the beginning of the last

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half of the eighteenth century, civilized drama in Germany
may be considered as being nearly at zero.

The Leipzig School. One of the first effective protests
against the existing state of affairs came from a woman,
Frederike Karoline Neuber (1697-1760), the director of a
company of actors at Leipzig, and herself an actress of no
small prestige. Madame Neuber found a supporter in Johann
Christoph Gottsched (1700-1766), professor of philosophy and
poetry at the local University. These two reformers attempted
first to abolish Hans Wurst and his coarseness; second, to pre-
sent definite forms of comedy and tragedy, instead of the slap-
stick variety show; and, third, to encourage the writing of
new plays. Gottsched persuaded Madame Neuber to adopt
the French classical school as a model, and published an essay
on The Art of Poetry, based chiefly upon Horace and Boileau.
A stage was installed like that of the Théatre Frangais, and
the dramas of Corneille and Racine were given. One of Gott-
sched’s own plays, called The Dying Cato (Der sterbende
Cato) was rather a feeble imitation of Addison. Neither
Gottsched nor Madame Neuber saw any promise in the
national traditions, nor did they attempt to portray national
characters. They performed an inestimable service to the
German stage, however, in deposing the vulgar clown and in
clearing the way for the talent of a later time.

The Storm and Stress School.1 | Other critics who resented
the degradation of the stage were in favor of the English
school rather than the French. Young writers appeared, turn-
ing their eager attention to the stage and emphasizing the need
of imagination and vigor, rather than formal rules. They
wanted life, variety and color; and they were of course op-
posed to Gottsched and the Leipzig school. About 1760 this
new movement became well defined in what is known as the
Storm and Stress period. Among the young writers was
Christian Gellert (1715-1769), who had considerable success
with sentimental comedy. He was admired by Frederick the
Great and enjoyed for a time the position of leader of a

1 The name was derived from a play, Sturm und Drang, written by
Friedrich von Klinger, performed in 1775.GERMANY AND SCANDINAVIA 283

“nationalist” school. Of far greater influence, however, was
Martin Wieland (1733-1813), whose main service was the
translation of twenty-two of Shakespeare’s plays, thus inaugu-
rating a study and appreciation of the English dramatist which
has ever since been characteristic of German scholarship.
Wieland also translated portions of the Greek tragedies, and
was himself a composer of light opera.

Gotthold Ephraim Lessing. 1729-1781. Lessing’s name be-
longs in the very first rank among writers for and about the
theater. He was born in a Lutheran clergyman’s family, and
began very early to show his interest in the stage, having
written a comedy before he was seventeen. He came under the
notice of Voltaire, who employed him in making translations.
During several years Lessing was one of the contributors to
Madame Neuber’s Leipzig theater; but his dramatic principles,
as they defined themselves, became more and more opposed
both to those of Voltaire and the Leipzig school. His first
important play, Miss Sara Sampson (1755) was not at all
suited to the tastes of the pseudo-classicists. In 1767 Lessing
became associated with a group of actors in Hamburg, at
which place he wrote the justly celebrated Hamburg Drama-
turgy, in which he explained to the world the principles under-
lying the art of the theater. The great event of the year 1767,
however, was the production of his Minna von Barnhelm, the
first good comedy in the German language. During the next
ten years two other dramas came from his pen; but he was
slandered and misrepresented by Voltaire and his followers,
and he suffered the usual fate of the man who is in advance
of his age. The essays on dramaturgy were pirated, with the
result that when he left Hamburg he was still poor, though
famous. He became court librarian at Wolfenbiittel, and died
in 1781.

Lessing’s plays. Voltaire had warned his young translator
against anything so banal as the tragédie bourgeois of certain
of his contemporaries; but Miss Sara Sampson, Lessing’s first
mature play, is concerned with middle-class people, is written
in prose, and was in general a challenge to the Voltairean
school. Although Miss Sara is seldom read or acted today,

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yet in its time it was effective enough to popularize the new
type, and became the center from which all modern German
drama sprang. In Minna von Barnhelm the scene is laid in
Berlin, the characters are easily recognized, the plot natural
and quietly unfolded. Goethe praised it, and its influence was
not only far reaching, but of a healthy and fertilizing nature.
In 1772 Lessing wrote the tragedy Emilia Galotti, whose
central situation is the same as that in the story of Virginia
and Appius Claudius. The scene is transferred to contem-
porary times and the writing is in prose. In the powerful
drama called Nathan the Wise (1777), the author turned to
verse again. The Sultan Saladin in his palace at Jerusalem,
at the time of the Second Crusade, is in need of money and
other help. He sends for Nathan, a rich Jew, and tries to
entrap him by asking which religion is best, Jewish, Moham-
medan, or Christian. The astute Nathan does not reply di-
rectly, but relates the Story of the Three Rings, which causes
the Sultan to exercise his own judgment. Certain features in
Nathan were taken from Boccaccio.

Lessing’s theory of drama. Interesting as are the plays of
Lessing, especially Minna von Barnhelm and Nathan, yet it is
by reason of his constructive criticism that he holds his high
place. First, he did a much needed piece of work when he
attacked the French theories of tragedy. Instead of merely
denying their validity, he analyzed and explained genuine
Greek classicism, and pointed out the differences between it
and French classicism. He recognized the genius of Shake-
speare, showing that only a perverted interpretation of Aristotle
would exclude the English poet from the ranks of the great
dramatists. Secondly, he pointed out that drama should aim at
giving a first-hand representation of life; that tragic elements
should flow from the character concerned, and should induce
sympathy as well as surprise. And thirdly, he proved with
his own work that vital stage creations should reflect all grades
of common life and experience; that stilted, borrowed forms
should be discarded, and that sincerity is of all things the first
requisite. His own plays are well contrived and theatrical, in
the good sense. His characters have the speech and motionsGERMANY AND SCANDINAVIA 285

of real men and women; they are interesting and vigorous.

Schiller considered Lessing the clearest and most liberal
thinker concerning questions of dramatic art; and men of
learning in every country today recognize him as the first
reasonable European writer upon the principles and conditions
which govern the modern stage. As a man, he can scarcely be
too highly praised. What he taught, as the true basis of art,
he incorporated into his own work and life. He was admirable
not only in courage, but in patient tenacity of will, clever, cul-
tured, unselfish. In his search for truth he was tireless, and
remained charitable in the face of almost constant abuse and
misunderstanding.

Slow progress of reforms. The improvements advocated by
Lessing made their way but slowly. Coarse entertainments still
held the stage, and many of the newer playwrights preferred
to follow the well recognized path. Lessing’s immediate fol-
lower, in the popular esteem, was August Friedrich Kotzebue,
an official in the Prussian foreign service. He left about two
hundred plays, and during his lifetime enjoyed a phenomenal
popularity which extended over Europe and even to America.
Sheridan took one of his pieces, Die Spanier in Peru, and
adapted it for the English stage under the title Pizzaro. An-
other work called Menschenhass und Reue, translated into
English and entitled The Stranger, held the boards for many
years and afforded the English actor John Kemble opportunity
for one of his most admired roles. Kotzebue’s strength lay
in his expert stagecraft and his knowledge of the public taste,
which was not high; but his work is noteworthy mainly as
an index of the times. The next steps in dramatic progress
were taken by Goethe and Schiller, whose work formed the
logical and happy fulfilment of the purposes of Lessing.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. 1749-1832. The man who
is best known as the creator of Faust was born into the family
of a wealthy merchant of Frankfort, Germany, the eldest of
six children. The mother was sympathetic, intelligent, and
delightful, while the father entertained unusually advanced
ideas concerning his son’s education. Wolfgang entered the
university at Leipzig while Gottsched and the French influence286 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

were still paramount; but illness caused him to leave Leipzig
and later he went to Strassburg, where he became interested
in Shakespeare and the so-called romantic school. During the
years that followed he worked with great intensity in many
fields—science, philosophy, mystic lore, history—and came to
be looked upon as the greatest scholar of Europe. In 1791 he
was appointed director of the Court Theater at Weimar, and
remained in that position until 1817. During that time the
German stage gained a prestige which it has never since en-
tirely lost. The year 1794 saw the beginning of the friendship
between Goethe and Schiller—a friendship which lasted until
the latter’s death. After Goethe’s retirement from the man-
agement of the theater, he continued to live at Weimar, occu-
pying himself with the completion of Faust, which he had be-
gun in early life, until his death in 1832.

Goethe’s plays. At the age of twenty-four Goethe threw
himself into the thick of the fight raging between French classi-
cism and the Shakespearean-romantic school, by producing
Gotz von Berlichingen, a prose tragedy of medieval chivalry
obviously written under the influence of Shakespeare. In it
the irregularities of the romantics were carried to an extreme:
the plot carelessly constructed, the unities ignored, comic
scenes interwoven with tragic. For the first time a German
hero was used for the central figure in a tragedy; (only once
before, in Lessing’s Minna, had a German principal figure
been used in comedy). The performance of Gotz was in a
sense the proclamation of a new day for the German stage;
and its success, moderate as it was, was still sufficient to
inaugurate a long period of popularity for plays dealing with
knighthood and chivalry. Moreover, in this drama Goethe
gave evidence of having taken up the work so courageously
begun by Lessing in Hamburg, and avowed himself on the
side of nationalism and freedom from French formula.

Besides a large number of pieces covering almost every
type of stage production—masques, operettas, satirical dramas
and comedies—Goethe wrote nine tragedies. Clavigo is said to
be based upon certain events in the life of Beaumarchais, and,
with Stella, belongs to domestic tragedy. Both plays areGERMANY AND SCANDINAVIA 287

written in prose. Egmont is historical, while Iphigenia in
Tauris was built upon the true classic principle. “Iphigenia
is the noblest restoration of antique drama which the eight-
eenth century has to show. . . . It is a splendid illustration of
the blending of the new humanity, born of the Renaissance,
with the oldest humanity of all, that of the Greeks.”2 Al-
though Torquato Tasso was not classic in subject, yet in the
treatment of the plot Goethe here also adopted the Hellenic
principles. These two dramas mark the culmination of clas-
sical achievements in Germany.

Faust. Several versions of the Faust tale appeared in the
sixteenth century,? one of which was translated into English.
In 1589 there came upon the London stage Marlowe’s Doctor
Faustus, which followed the German legend closely. From its
nature, the story was susceptible of much spectacular elabora-
tion, in the way of tricks of magic, transformations, and dia-
bolical appearances. Marlowe’s play, brought back to Ger-
many by English comedians, enjoyed great popularity and
finally became a puppet show, in which form it was seen by
the child Wolfgang. In later years both Lessing and Goethe
conceived the idea of writing a drama upon the subject, but
Lessing never got any farther than notes for its construction.
Goethe actually began work upon the poem in 1773 (the same
year in which Gétz von Berlichingen was written), working
on it from time to time, brooding over it, and leaving it un-
touched for long periods. The complete poem, in two parts,
was finished about two years before his death, fifty-seven years
after its beginning, when the author was eighty-one years old.

The legendary material connected with Faust, the necro-
mancer, was but the nucleus around which Goethe’s poem
grew. The final work far transcends its source, as it also far
surpasses Marlowe’s play. Doctor Faustus is a morality illus-
trating sin and its punishment; the German Faust is a drama
of redemption. A great literature has accumulated around it,
and there are many differences of opinion as to the finer subtle-
ties of its interpretation; but the main point is clear: salvation

2 Robertson, The Literature of Germany.
8 See Chapter XXIII, Marlowe.AEP os
\

288 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN

for men lies, first, in beneficent action rather than in peniten-
tial brooding; and, secondly, in the spiritualizing power of
beauty and art. With Goethe, beauty and art are personified
in the Greek Helen, through whom the soul is redeemed.

Faust can scarcely be criticised adequately by the same
canons which apply to Macbeth, Lear, or Phédre. As a whole,
the poem is far more than a play; it is the vehicle of a philo-
sophy, the poetic interpretation of the intellectual history of an
entire life. A small portion only of the poem is ordinarily
known to the playgoer,—that which deals with the wooing of
Marguerite and the tragic experience of her love. This por-
tion, arranged for the stage, has been translated into many
languages, and was used as the basis of an opera by Gounod.
Even this single episode shows the power of the author’s
genius. The simple, affectionate nature of Marguerite, the
relation between Faust and Mephisto, the realism of the vil-
lage life,—these features explain and justify the perennial
charm and seductiveness of the drama.

Goethe and the Weimar stage. Besides opening the way
for writers of his own country, Goethe made a practice of
presenting foreign dramas on the stage at Weimar. In the six
years from 1708 to 1804 there were given under his direction
seven of the dramas of Schiller, Lessing’s Nathan, and other
German plays; also the tragedies of Racine and Corneille, and
works of Shakespeare, Calderon, Terence, Plautus and Sopho-
cles. Such a record is almost without parallel in the history
of the theater. Following the example of Weimar, many other
theatrical centers raised the standard of their productions;
distinction and freedom of expression, which had been so dis-
couragingly fought for by Lessing, became the inheritance of
the next generation.

Johann Friedrich von Schiller. 1759-1805. Schiller was
thirty years younger than Lessing, ten years younger than
Goethe, and very nearly contemporaneous with Sheridan in
England. He began his career as playwright with The Rob-
bers, one of the many extravagant pieces dealing with knights
and chivalry in imitation of Gétz von Berlichingen. TheFirmin

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Robbers was produced at Mannheim, the very year of Lessing’s
death, when the author was but twenty-three years old. As
one might expect, it shows many of the faults of youth and of
the school to which it belongs. Even Goethe was not pleased
with the success of a piece which seemed to him full of false
rhetoric and sensational appeal. The next play of Schiller’s
proved a failure; but Love and Intrigue (Kabale und Liebe)
was an immediate success. It is the story of an unhappy
marriage between people of different stations in life, and is
genuinely national in its character portrayal. In 1787 came
Don Carlos, which not only won admiring audiences in Ger-
many, but carried Schiller’s name far beyond its borders.

Twelve years elapsed between the appearance of Don Carlos
and the next play, during which time the author married,
studied the Greek tragic poets, and became immersed in the
history of his own country. Most important of all, about
1794 began his friendship with Goethe. Five years later the
three Wallenstein dramas, in verse, were given at Weimar
under the management of Goethe, with a success that has rarely
been equalled on any stage. From that time, his dramatic
trend was determined. Turning definitely to history for his
subjects, he displayed, with each succeeding work, an extraor-
dinary technical skill, an ability to appeal tenderly to the
heart, and a genuine talent for the theater. His weakness lay
in a tendency to over-idealize his characters, to indulge in
declamation at the expense of concentration.

When The Maid of Orleans was first performed in 1801 at
Leipzig, the occasion was one of unparalleled triumph for the
author. As he left the theater he found the audience outside,
standing silent, with bared heads, waiting to do him honor,
while parents lifted their children high so they might see him.
In The Bride of Messina Schiller used the classic theme of
Nemesis following wrong-doing, and employed the Greek
chorus. Waulhelm Tell, his last play, is in many respects his
best. The portrayal of the mountain scene and the conflict
is brilliant, and the lines ring with manliness and true inde-
pendence. Its splendid poetry and the note of national struggle
stirred the hearts of all Germany.290 THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY IN
SCANDINAVIA

As education and culture spread over Europe, theaters be-
gan to be established in countries not heretofore heard from
in matters connected with the dramatic art. Norway and Den-
mark, united politically until 1814, had a common language
and a single intellectual center, Copenhagen, where a play-
house was opened in 1720. From time to time companies of
foreign players visited the city, giving the works of Moliére,
Racine, and other French writers. The king, Frederick IV,
was not greatly pleased with these foreign offerings, and in-
vited Ludwig Holberg (1684-1754), a native of Bergen, Nor-
way, to try his hand at a drama. MHolberg had settled at
Copenhagen after having filled various positions as tutor, col-
lege professor, and preacher. His first attempts at comedy
were so successful that he continued to write for the Copen-
hagen stage, providing no less than twenty-eight plays in five
years. For a time, during the reign of Christian VI, all
theaters were closed; but about the middle of the eighteenth
century they were again opened under the patronage of a
new king, Frederick VY. Again Holberg supplied the demand
for plays, writing at least six more comedies.

Among the works of Holberg is a Plutus, an imitation of
Aristophanes, and Melampe, a parody of the high-stepping
French tragedy. For the most part, however, his plays are
prose comedies of social life, concerned with the affairs of
common people. Ina series of six pieces each one has for its
subject a popular superstition, such as witchcraft, alchemy, and
the like. Another group is devoted to portraying the
“humours” of mankind, somewhat in the vein of Ben Jonson;
still another is concerned with intrigue and satire. In The
Political Pewterer ridicule is turned on an ignorant upstart who
claims to know all about public policies and methods of gov-
ernment. Holberg, like many another playwright, found his
subjects for satire in such universal types as the snob, the
bragging soldier, the dandy just returned from France, and
he portrays them with humorous insight and close observation.
He had the good sense to take national life as the basis of hisGERMANY AND SCANDINAVIA 291

work, winning the title of “Father of Danish literature.” His
comedies have also been much admired in Germany and in
other parts of Europe. Schlegel said of him: “‘His pictures of
manners possess great local truth; his exhibitions of depravity,
folly, and stupidity are searching and complete; in strength of
comic motives he is not defective; only he does not show much
invention in his intrigues.” Perhaps his most important service
was in helping to restore saneness and reality to a stage which
had become partially demented through Voltaire and the rav-
ings of the pseudo-classicists.

The Prussian poet Klopstock, who visited Denmark in 1751
by invitation of the king, Frederick V, attracted pupils and
followers, one of whom, Johannes Ewald (1743-1781), turned
his attention to the theater. He based the plot of one of his
tragedies on a Danish legend found in the Sax6 Chronicle, and
thus made a beginning of a truly national type of drama. A
Satirical piece by Ewald called The Brutal Applauders drama-
tized the conflict between the supporters and opponents of
foreign plays. Ewald had an unhappy life, with wretched
poverty, until shortly before his death, when he was pensioned
by the government.

Another writer, Johan Herman Wessel (1742-1785) won
considerable success with a parody of French tragedy called
Love Without Stockings. It was written in alexandrine verse,
showed an absurd regard for the unities, and was altogether so
clever and amusing that it materially helped to drive the worst
type of imitations from the Danish stage.CHAPTER XXX
FRANCE: 1800-1875

The qualities of writing best fitted for eager reception are either
such as startle the world into attention by their audacity and ex-
travagance; or they are chiefly of a superficial kind lying upon
the surfaces of manners; or arising out of a selection and ar-
rangements of incidents, by which the mind is kept upon the
stretch of curiosity and the fancy amused without the trouble of
thought ... there never has been a period, and perhaps never
will be, in which vicious poetry, of some kind or another, has not
been far more generally read than good—WILLIAM WorpDsworTH,
Supplement to the Preface to Lyrical Ballads.

The “well-made play” of Scribe, and later of Sardou, with the
pseudo-psychology of Dumas fils, held the European stage... .
—StTorM JAMESON, Modern Drama in Europe.

The outstanding literary commotion of the late eighteenth
and early nineteenth centuries was of course the romantic
movement, most evident in Germany but assimilated by each
country according to its bent. Romanticism, reduced to brief
terms, inculcated first the importance and dignity of man as
an individual; and, secondly, the power of nature as a solace
and an inspiration. Trailing along in the wake of these two
main ideas were a renewed interest in local legends, medieval
history, many half-forgotten heroes, and what has been called
a “renascence of wonder.” Somewhere Mr. Gilbert Chesterton
has suggested that the true romantic regards life and the cos-
mos as an adventure rather than a scheme. Looked at from
the vantage point of distance, the romantic movement, like
most other literary reforms, was simply a protest against dull-
ness, pedantry and rules that had lost their efficacy.

For three-quarters of the nineteenth century, France alone

292FRANCE: 1800-1875 293

produced a drama not of the first rank indeed, but interesting
enough to achieve European popularity. There were three
groups which gradually replaced the pseudo-classic Voltairean
play: melodrama (which had practically merged with the
drame bourgeois) ; secondly, the romantic play (really a liter-
ary variation of the melodrama), which flourished roughly
from 1830 to 1840; and thirdly, the social drama, which
evolved from the vaudeville sketch through the hand of Scribe.

Melodrama. The germ of melodrama, doubtless latent in
several types of play, was conspicuously present in the drame
bourgeois, which must present “a slice of life,”’ and emphasize
those features which would make the audience hold its breath
and curse the villain; and it proved to be only a step from the
serious study of middle-class life to the sensational claptrap in
which thrills occur in every scene, characterizations are in black
and white, and the dramatis persone always the same, namely,
the noble hero, the distressed heroine, the villain, and the
“comic.” Guilbert de Pixérecourt (1773-1844), one of the
prolific writers of the early nineteenth century and sometimes
called the “Corneille of the boulevards,” wrote as many as one
hundred and twenty plays, a full half of them belonging to
the lurid school. By the end of the first quarter of the cen-
tury, melodrama had become so popular that many French
theaters were kept open by this type of play alone, and more
than a score of writers were employed in supplying their
needs. The very nature of this species, however, is such that
the thriller of yesterday becomes the commonplace of today;
and thus there is ever a need for greater and greater sensa-
tion. Frederick Soulié (1800-1847) went practically to the
extreme of violence in picturing murders, extraordinary es-
capes, burning buildings and maniacal villains.

ROMANTICISM

Translated to the stage, romanticism seems at this distance
to be no more than a glorified phase of melodrama; yet the
romantic play in general offered better verse, a higher literary
quality, comedy of a more refined type, and characters more

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humanly conceived. The drama of romanticism was excellent
to read as well as to act.

Alexander Dumas the Elder. 1803-1870. The first suc-
cessful play of Dumas the Elder, Henry III et sa cour (1829),
was the logical sequence of melodrama and the link between it
and the later romantic school. The action of Henry III is set
in the sixteenth century; and its theme, adultery, became from
that time the theme par excellence of the French stage. The
action of Antony (1830), laid in modern times, also deals in
seduction, murder, and melancholy resentment against the
social code. Dumas collaborated with many men of letters;
and as his popularity as novelist and playwright increased,
managers often attached his name to plays which he had not
written. In an edition of his works published in 1863 the
dramas, written either wholly or in part by Dumas, fill fifteen
volumes. He used many historical themes and organized the
Thédatre historique for the production of his special type of
play. Le tour de Nesle (1832) contains perhaps the essence
of his genius and best illustrates his style. It is a historical
piece with “gloomy medieval towers, postern gates, secret
panels, ambushes, a criminal queen, corpses flung into the
river, flashes of lightning in the storm, curses. . . . Now his
medieval horrors are tawdry, and his heroes make us laugh. In
his own day, they swept all before them.” ?

Victor Hugo. 1802-1885. Although it was Dumas who lit
the torch, yet it was Hugo whose magnificent windmills fanned
the romantic blaze into a conflagration. Hugo’s father was an
officer in the French army, and Victor’s childhood was spent in
various parts of Europe—Corsica, Spain, Elba, Italy. His
education, necessarily irregular, was carried on at the Lycée
Louis le Grand at Paris, where at the age of sixteen he took
prizes for poems and wrote his first tragedy, Inez de Castro.
Among the trappings for Inez were a tomb, a hall with a
throne, a scaffold, executioners with torches, and a ghost.
These appurtenances would be of no consequence were it not
for the fact that they reappear in Hernani almost to an item.
During the next few years, Hugo worked out a set of prin-

1 Wright, History of French Literature.FRANCE: 1800-1875 295

ciples for the stage, which he set forth in his preface to Crom-
well (1827). The chief feature of the “new” theory was the
necessity of getting away from the conventional formalities of
classicism @ la Voltaire. In Hugo’s opinion the unities of time
and place were non-essential, action was of supreme impor-
tance, the style though poetic should be “natural,” and the
couplets which had so long been embedded in tragic verse
should be discarded. The grotesque should be mingled with
the terrible, as was illustrated in the comedy of the Greeks, in
Dante, and in Shakespeare, Moliére and Goethe.

Cromwell, Hugo’s first published play, illustrated several of
these principles; but it was not a first-rate piece of work, even
for melodrama. In 1830, however, with the production of
Hernani, Hugo’s creed was trumpeted to the world. The plot
turns upon a point of Castilian honor which required Her-
nani, at the moment when his happiness seemed assured, to
take his own life in fulfilment of a vow made to a brother
rebel. The first night of Hernani, February 25, 1830, was one
of the notable performances in the history of the stage. The
adherents of the old school and the adherents of romanticism
met at the theater and, as the play progressed, fought their
battle scene by scene with hissing, shouting, cane-rappings and
hand-clappings. The struggle continued to some extent dur-
ing succeeding performances, and even spread to outlying
cities. It would seem that in the end the classicists were
routed. Hernani, extravagant as it seems today under a cold
analysis, and unreal as are its characters, is yet an amazingly
interesting play, with passages of fine lyric poetry, picturesque
settings and stirring incidents. Robert Louis Stevenson has
described his almost feverish absorption, sitting up all night to
read it; and Wright, the historian of French literature, notes
that “yet, eighty years after it was written, Hernani can still
make an audience at the Théatre Francais weep.”

Hugo’s next play, Le roi s’amuse, another illustration of its
author’s dramatic principles, was somewhat of a failure at its
first performance; and a second appearance was forbidden
by the government on account of the character attributed to
the king, Francis I. The story, based upon the tragedy of the296 FRANCE: 1800-1875

court jester, Rigoletto, who murders his own daughter under
the supposition that he is killing the king, her seducer, is
familiar to the world through Verdi’s opera. In three plays,
Lucréce Borgia, Marie Tudor, and Angelo, written between
1832 and 1835, Hugo employed prose, while otherwise adher-
ing to his romantic principles. Robbed of the splendor of his
verse, these plays show plainly as melodramas, clever, but
empty of serious meaning. In Ruy Blas (1838), the author
returned to poetry, and created an amusing comedy, which
many critics regard as the crowning piece of his dramatic
work. With Les Burgraves (1843), in which the legend of
the sleeping Barbarossa was used, his instinct for the stage
deserted him. The characters are grandly conceived but have
no breath of life. Its career on the stage was brief, and never
again, during life, did Hugo offer a play to the public. Les
jumeaux and Torquemada were performed after his death.’

By the end of the third decade of the nineteenth century
the fever of romanticism was dying down. Critics were finding
out its weaknesses, and comic playwrights were parodying its
extravagances. As a school the movement passed out of sight
and new types won the popular favor. Goethe, looking back
in later life on his period of romanticism, judged its principles
unsound. All Europe lived through a similar period, and,
when the vitality of the movement was spent, turned to modes
of expression more closely associated with contemporary life,
one of which we have called social drama.

SociAL DRAMA

Eugene Scribe. 1791-1861. The form of dramatic compo-
sition known as vaudeville was a short sketch in verse, either
recited or sung, used at country fairs and other popular but
mediocre resorts. It might sometimes be a parody of a more
pretentious play, or the dramatization of a short, lively anec-
dote. One of its features was the insertion of couplets to mark
a climax, or the point of a jest, or a special piece of witticism.
In 1816 Eugéne Scribe, after making no less than fourteen
failures, wrote a vaudeville called Une nuit de garde nationale,FRANCE: 1800-1875 297

which was brisk and dramatic and gained an immediate suc-
cess. Starting with this modest form, Scribe enlarged its
scope and strengthened its structure antil, in his hatidet the
comeédie-vaudeville developed into a full-fledged play. His
vogue suddenly became so great that in 1820 the manager of
the Gymnase Théatre contracted for all Scribe’s writings for
a period of ten years. Collaborators were secured, and in the
decade beginning with 1820 he brought out something like one
hundred and fifty pieces, all more or less after ities enlarged
vaudeville pattern. His first “regular” play, Valérie, in three
acts, was performed at the Comédie Francaise. Scribe i is gen-
erally called the inventor of the comédie-vaudeville—a form
which has considerable intrigue, lively dialogue, and unfailing
movement. The formula may be turned to farce, sentimental
comedy, mystery play, or domestic drama,—in each it is
stage-proof. As examples of a sort of mechanical perfection,
with links of action neatly joined, ingenious incidents, and
promptness of come-back, Scribe’s plays were a complete suc-
cess. Occasionally too a character escaped the workshop and
emerged into the world of reality. Professor Matthews asserts
that no other maker of plays, either before or since Scribe, was
ever so uniformly successful, and over so wide an area. His
period of activity covered nearly the first half of the century,
during which time he wrote about four hundred dramatic
pieces, twenty being produced in a single year. His enormous
output is comparable only to that of Lope de Vega, Hans
Sachs, or the elder Dumas. His plays brought him not only a
princely income, but secured for him the honor of a seat
among the forty immortals of the French Academy.

Emile Augier. 1820-1889. By the time Augier had arrived
as a dramatist, the strife between the romantic and classical
school had abated. The group to which he belonged tried to
avoid both the dullness of the neo-classicists and the absurdi-
ties of the romanticists. Augier’s career began in 1844 with
the performance at the Odéon of a comedy in two acts, written
in alexandrine verse and entitled The Hemlock (Cigué). The
play ran three months and was subsequently taken into the
repertory of the Comédie Frangaise. In this first piece the298 FRANCE: 1800-1875

author displayed the characteristics which marked all his
work,—a sure technique, a knowledge of stage effects, under-
standing of human nature and an absence of sentimentalism.
The next six dramas were also in verse. Gabrielle (1849)
was notably successful, placing its author in a commanding
position. Even with the prestige of these seven works, Augier
had not yet come to the maturity of his powers. In 1853 he
began writing in prose and collaborated with various men of
letters, producing a coolly satirical type of comedy not quite
like anything the European stage had heretofore seen. Le
gendre de Monsieur Poirier (1854), by Augier and Jules San-
deau, was his first masterpiece in collaboration. It is in four
acts and has for its theme the clash between a rich, middle-
class father-in-law and a spendthrift, worthless but aristo-
cratic son-in-law. It is dramatic and sincere, and is universally
considered one of the best, if not the very best, comedy of
manners of the nineteenth century. Two other plays, Aven-
turiére (in verse) and Le fils de Giboyer (in prose) reached
the high-water mark of success in their class.

For a period covering the entire third quarter of the century
Augier continued, often with collaborators, to produce excel-
lent dramas, not all of which were immediately successful on
the boards. His partners included Sandeau, Alfred de Musset,
Labiche, Edouard Foussier, and others of high ability. San-
deau, Musset, and himself were members of the Academy.
The plays were generally satirical, attacking false emotional-
ism and sickly taste; and so effectively was it done that active
resentment was aroused amongst editors, clergymen and poli-
ticians. One of Augier’s greatest services, however, was prov-
ing to the public that French social drama need not always be
salacious. Even before his time, the grip of the courtesan had
been sufficiently strong; and Dumas the younger, whose career
was contemporaneous with that of Augier, had as it were com-
pleted the glorification of the harlot. Scribe, Sardou, and other
less gifted writers—taking perhaps from romanticism the idea
that the claims of passion are superior to those of loyalty or
faithfulness—had brought upon the French stage the re-
proach of looseness and immorality. A reading of the mid-FRANCE: 1800-1875 299

century social dramas would almost convince a stranger to
France that the only respectable, kind people in the country
were the demi-mondaines. Augier in 1855, in Mariage
d’Olympe, treating a theme similar to La Dame aux camélias
by Dumas, answered, in a measure, the false sentimentalism
about the life of the courtesan with an unsparingly truthful
picture of the essential tawdriness of such an existence.
Augier’s challenge was not primarily a demand for conven-
tional respectability, but a demand for honesty. He believed
in the dignity and sacredness of the home when built upon
faithfulness and honor. He threw the searchlight upon what
seemed discreditable in the ideas of Dumas, and so stands as a
positive force in the shaping of nineteenth century drama. In
his own work he achieved simplicity and directness without
falling into the dull pedantry of the pseudo-classicists; and he
made his plays interesting without the excesses of romanti-
cism.

Alexandre Dumas the younger. 1824-1895. At the begin-
ning of the last quarter of the nineteenth century three men,
Augier, Dumas the younger, and Victorien Sardou were con-
sidered the leaders of dramatic activity in France. The influ-
ence of Strindberg and Ibsen, never at any time so powerful
in France as elsewhere in Europe, had not yet even begun to
make itself felt. Alexandre Dumas, son of the exuberant
creator of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers, was the
author of a dozen or more important plays which had ap-
peared between 1850 and 1875. La dame aux camélas, a
dramatization of a novel by the young Dumas, had to wait
three years for a stage performance, which was finally ob-
tained in 1852. Its immediate success, not only in France but
in other parts of Europe and in America, was one more indica-
tion that the theater-going public was eager to sentimentalize
over the sorrows of the professional light sister. Hugo’s
Marion Delorme had been one of the earliest presentations of
this class, as Nana, Zaza, Marguerite Gautier and others were
among the later types. La dame aux camélias, while essen-
tially vulgar and melodramatic, yet bears marks of imaginative
and theatrical power.

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Dumas’s second play, Diane de Lys, had the same subject
as the first; while the third and in many respects the best of
all his plays, Le Demi-monde, varied the theme slightly by
depicting the attempts of a clever but socially discredited
woman to reestablish herself in respectable society. It is re-
garded by certain critics and playwrights as the model nine-
teenth century comedy. Though his skill in construction some-
times failed him, yet Dumas always had a brilliant, diamond-
like edge. He created genuine comic characters, also charm-
ing young women of the world, though many of his dramas
have thoroughly disagreeable subjects. In his later works he
regarded himself as a moral teacher, meanwhile asserting that
the stage, by its very nature, is immoral. His theories, as
stated in his prefaces and dramatic essays, seem contradictory
and puzzling; and his obsession with sex amounted almost to
mania. In eleven plays, written before 1880, the subject of
illicit love was the theme. All his genius, undoubtedly of a
marked character, was turned towards the contemplation and
analysis of seduction, adultery, and the passions which oftenest
conflict with honor and faithfulness.

Victorien Sardou. 1831-1908. Perhaps no French author
is better known in England and America than Sardou, the
author of Les pattes de mouche, Théodora, Divorgons, La
Tosca, and other plays to the number of at least two score.
Sardou was a member of the Academy and gained a fortune
through his dramatic works. His first piece was a failure, and
he had some years of obscurity. In the five years from 1860
to 1865 he wrote comedies, farces, and opera librettos. Of
these, Les pattes de mouche and Nos intimes have been
adapted, translated, and performed in several different versions
in England and America. His successes, slight in comedietta
and farce, reached their highest peak in social comedy, such as
the amusing but indecent Divorcons. Sardou’s merit lay in his
gift for shaping every situation, almost every human experi-
ence, to the requirements of the acted scene,—a cleverness
which seems to have excelled that of almost every other play-
wright in the whole history of the drama. He was deficient,
however, in his understanding of the more serious and noblerFRANCE: 1800-1875 301

passions of men and women, and he also lacked the sincerity
required in artists of the first rank.

In France during the nineteenth century the habit of col-
laboration flourished. Halévy and Meilhac were notably suc-
cessful in their literary partnership from about 1869 to 1881,
writing society dramas, comic operas, and librettos for grand
opera. Bizet’s Carmen is the work of their hands, also the
popular comedy Froufrou. Octave Feuillet (1821-1890) fol-
lowed the example of his more distinguished contemporaries
and gained considerable fame as a delineator of frail women.
His heroes are weak and the tone of his plays is unhealthy.
Alfred de Vigny and Alfred de Musset, both men of genius,
made contributions to the stage, but gained their finest laurels
in the field of poetry rather than in drama.CHAPTER XXXI
THE VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS

Stories invented for the stage are more compact and elegant, and
more as we should wish them to be, than true stories out of his-
tory.— Francis Bacon.

In England the romantic movement, so far as drama was
concerned, was not so much a failure as an anti-climax. A
race of play-goers nourished on The Spanish Tragedy and
Arden of Faversham, for example, could not goad themselves
into a riot over such a play as Hernani. Moreover, the art of
the theater in England, during the greater part of the nine-
teenth century, was undergoing an eclipse. In a previous
chapter it has been noted how the German Kotzebue, a third-
rate writer of the romantic school, for a time took possession of
the stage. In five years, from 1796 to 1801, twenty of his
plays were translated into English and some of them appeared
in several versions. Sheridan, who occupied the important
position of manager of Drury Lane Theater, twenty years be-
fore (1779), had parodied the absurdities of the romantic style;
nevertheless he not only produced some of Kotzebue’s w orks
but adapted Die Spanier in Peru for his London stage under
the title of Pizzaro, which in a year ran through twenty edi-
tions and was translated back again into German. With the
conservatism and lethargy w hich. is characteristic of the stage
in all but its rare creative periods, the English theater continued
to exploit the Kotzebue-Sheridan type of play long after the
life had gone from it.

Matthew Gregory (Monk) Lewis (1775-1818), with his
Castle Spectre and other plays, had a sensational though transi-
tory success. He depicted a fantastic world of knights, ban-
dits, ghosts, melodramatic horrors and impossible events. Even
Lewis was outdone, however, by Charles Robert Maturin

302VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS 303

(1782-1824), who wrote Bertram, or the Castle of St. Aldo-
brand, brought out by Sheridan at Drury Lane. Mrs. Oli-
phant, in her Literary History of England, describes Bertram
as a “play of the most wildly Satanic character, dealing with
crimes of primitive magnitude, with terrific storms and equally
terrific bloodshed, to appall the terrified reader,” and says that
it is difficult to imagine how it could have been put on the
stage at all. Sir Walter Scott praised it, though somewhat con-
servatively. Byron was enthusiastic over it, and the public
flocked to it. The result, for the author, was a momentary
notoriety and the handsome sum of a thousand pounds. Other
plays by Maturin followed in a similar vein; but at the second
one even Byron gave up, calling it Maturin’s Bedlam and a
nightmare.

In the midst of this riot of melodrama appeared Joanna
Baillie (1762-1851), who conceived the stage, as it had so often
been conceived before, as a means of education and instruc-
tion. She wrote three volumes of Plays on the Passions, the
first of which came out before the end of the eighteenth cen-
tury, the second in 1802, and the third two years later. Miss
Baillie’s idea was, first, to revive poetic drama; secondly, to
restore the Shakespearean type of character to the stage; and,
thirdly, to make each of the powerful human passions the sub-
ject of study and analysis. In following out the last-named
purpose she used each sin, as avarice for example, as the sub-
ject of both a comedy and a tragedy. In the preface to her
first volume she explained that the Plays on the Passions re-
sponded to “the universal desire in the human mind to behold
man in every situation, putting forth his strength against the
currents of adversity, scorning all bodily anguish, or struggling
with those feelings of nature which, like a boiling stream, will
often burst through the barriers of pride.” After this grandilo-
quence, it is surprising to find that the Plays on the Passions
were not, after all, bad enough to be popular. The stream of
Miss Baillie’s genius did not “boil” hard enough. She ad-
mitted that she set little value upon plots and incidents, nor
were passion and feeling paramount. Her sole aim was to
illustrate some high moral purpose. Jeffrey, editor of theTt eae gece

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304 VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS

Edinburgh Review, was ungallant enough to criticise these
principles, saying that the end of drama is the entertainment
of the audience, and that Joanna’s theory was not suited to the
stage; and he also hinted that she plagiarized Shakespeare.
Wilson (Christopher North) was much impressed by her tal-
ents, and Scott called her the “new Shakespeare.” Her tragedy
De Montfort, with John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons in the cast,
was successful, running eleven nights at Drury Lane; but this
was the exception in the long list of her “worthy” plays.

George Colman the younger (1762-1836) inherited much
of his father’s cleverness, without his manly, genial, and highly
intelligent character. Early in the nineteenth century he pro-
duced several plays, the most interesting of which seems to be
The Heir at Law (1808). In this and other compositions Col-
man followed a warranted-to-please pattern, with hard land-
lords, spendthrift sons, lily-handed maidens and extravagantly
noble gentlemen. He attracted the favor of George IV, who
made him examiner of plays for the crown.

A relative of Sheridan, James Sheridan Knowles (1784-
1862) was somewhat more talented than either Miss Baillie or
the younger Colman. Like the earnest Joanna, Knowles had a
desire to restore poetic drama after the Elizabethan style. Ac-
quiring in early life a practical knowledge of the theater, he
soon came into prominence as a writer of both historical
tragedy and domestic plays of a serious type. His Caius
Gracchus was performed in 1815, Virginius in 1820. After
several more historical pieces, in 1832 he wrote The Hunch-
back, which immediately made him the most admired of living
playwrights.

After Knowles, the outstanding writer in the mid-years of
the nineteenth century was Edward Bulwer, the first Lord
Lytton (1803-1873), three of whose plays, The Lady of Lyons,
Richelieu, and Money, held the stage for many years. The
works of Lytton, though easy and brilliant, show a kind of
“false fervor” which,-as a style, has happily passed into limbo.
As the nineteenth century progressed, the art of the drama
became less and less interesting, gua drama. The period pro-
duced a number of playwrights who, though not of the firstVICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS — 305

rank yet were often clever, ingenious, and popular; but in the
course of three-quarters of a century there was no one to
bring a copious, invigorating life to the stage. As the play-
wrights declined, however, the number of great actors and
actresses increased; and these artists, with their talents, were
able to make commonplace pieces effective. Also, the public
press in general was too kind to poor shows, often giving far
more importance to the personality of the actor than to the
quality of the play.

About the middle of the century James Madison Morton
(1811-1891) appeared with a fresh, abundant sense of humor
and the ability to create characters which stood up well before
the footlights. In Speed the Plough he introduced Mrs.
Grundy to an appreciative public. In 1864 Thomas Robertson
successfully dramatized a story in which David Garrick was
the principal figure and later wrote several other comedies of
some merit, including Caste and Society. Tom Taylor (1817-
1880), editor of Punch for several years, was one of the
numerous playwrights who had originally prepared for the
practice of law. He adapted many plays from the French,
among them The Ticket-of-Leave Man (1863) from Leonard
by Edouard Brisbarre and Eugene Nus. Among more than a
hundred dramas his Still Waters Run Deep, also adapted from
the French, has been regularly offered on the English-speaking
stage until recent years.

Popularity of French Plays. The demand for theatrical en-
tertainment far outran the supply offered by the few native
writers, and was filled, for a large part of the century, by im-
portations from Paris. The prestige of French technique, and
the financial profits to be had by utilizing works which cost
little or nothing in translation, were among the causes making
for the sterility of the English drama. There were two chief
types of imported plays: first, melodramas, represented by the
work of Pixérecourt, Soulié, and others; and, secondly, the
“well-made play,” represented by the works of Scribe, Augier,
and Sardou. There was an almost inexhaustible supply of
comedies of the light, intriguing, usually risqué sort. As ro-
manticism glorified the bandit and the outlaw, so the well-306 VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS

made play glorified the harlot and the domestic triangle of
husband, wife, and lover; and it in turn became as mechanical
in structure and as hackneyed in its stock figures as the more
humble Punch-and-Judy shows. Such a play as Les pattes de
mouche or La dame aux camélias, interesting enough for a sea-
son or two, left much to be desired as models for a score of
writers in half a dozen different countries: for, as patterns,
they produced nothing but a succession of neat, crackling so-
ciety plays with sex and the domestic triangle nauseatingly
present. As a consequence, at the end of the third quarter of
the century the theater in England seemed infinitely removed
from reality, intellect, or sincerity. It was, in fact, almost at
its lowest ebb.

Literary or “closet” drama. The record of this period would
be incomplete without a glance at the so-called closet plays
which the age produced. From the beginning to the very end
of the century almost every man of letters undertook to write
poetic drama. Sheridan has the distinction of having refused
plays by both Wordsworth and Coleridge; between 1817 and
1822 Byron wrote at least five dramas, and Shelley at least
two. Walter Savage Landor, Richard H. Horne, George Dar-
ley, Thomas L. Beddoes, and Sidney Dobell all contributed to
the species; also Matthew Arnold and William Morris, the
latter offering a sort of modern morality called Love Is
Enough. All these writers, many of them distinguished in the
world of letters, wrote in verse, often using eminently “stagey”
themes, yet achieving plays which were generally not actable.
In our own day Thomas Hardy has written a monumental dra-
matic poem, The Dynasts, which perhaps was not intended for
stage production. Doubtless these writers, in most cases, de-
sired to utilize the opportunities for revelation of character and
feeling offered by dialogue, yet found it difficult to conform
to the exacting conditions of actual performance.

The three most celebrated writers of the unactable poetic
drama of this period, however, are Browning, Tennyson and
Swinburne. Browning was eager to produce plays which could
be acted, and, in certain single scenes, he proved himself

11t has actually been produced by Mr. Granville Barker.VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS 307

capable of doing so. Strafford (1837), his most pretentious
dramatic effort, is filled with off-stage action and is written in
a style poorly adapted to speech. Jn a Balcony, in spite of
many poignant and effective passages, does not quite act, even
with skilful performers, but remains a story told by talk rather
than by action. Browning’s gift, while certainly dramatic, was
not disciplined to the conditions of the stage. Tennyson like-
wise possessed an ambition to write actable plays; and at least
one piece, Becket, as presented by Sir Henry Irving, gave
pleasure to theater-goers for many years. Tennyson, however,
like Browning and the others, failed in the oral style, the tell-
ing situation, the surprising turn of action, which the stage re-
quires. He remains the poet of the library rather than of the
playhouse. Swinburne was still further from the dramatic
tradition. Although he wrote nine long tragedies, full of splen-
did verse, on subjects which in the hands of an Elizabethan
would have become stage thrillers, yet it is doubtful if any one
of his plays ever has been, or could be, acted. Such a judgment
does not mean, however, that these works, even as drama, are
wholly negligible. We have seen how in the unacted plays of
Seneca the seeds of the art remained, to germinate and flourish
unexpectedly after the writer had long been dead. In the closet
drama of the nineteenth century lie buried many excellent plots
and characters which possibly, in the hands of future poets,
may rise and take on new life.

Sir Arthur Wing Pinero. Born 1855. The leading English
playwright in what might be called the pre-Ibsen manner was
Sir Arthur Pinero, who, before the last decade of the century
had brought out at least twenty-seven works and was the reign-
ing favorite of the stage. Such plays as The Magistrate, The
Cabinet Minister, and Sweet Lavender found ready acceptance
both with managers and play-goers. They were constructed
mainly after the excellent French model, with crisp and ready
dialogue, a plentiful sprinkling of smart society doings, and
occasionally just enough of the risqué element to promote
piquancy without seriously offending “chaperone” standards
of taste. This tea-table drama was so firmly established in the
popular favor that when Ibsen with his devastating ideas finally

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1308 VICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS

crossed the Channel, he was at considerable disadvantage as
compared with Pinero. However, finally the Victorians were
in a discreet measure affected by the robust Norwegian. After
a few bouts with the drama of ideas, represented by Ghosts
and The Pillars of Society, even timid managers were embold-
ened to open their stages to a careful mixture of social criti-
cism, intrigue, and pessimism, provided it were sufficiently well-
bred. In 1893 Sir Arthur Pinero wrote The Second Mrs.
Tanqueray, called by Miss Storm Jameson “his great drawing-
room version of Ibsen.” Mrs. Tanqueray was received with
considerable acclaim, held the stage for some time, was sent
to the English provinces, to America, and finally to continental
capitals, and had the honor of providing Eleanora Duse and
Mrs. Patrick Campbell with a stellar role. Since Mrs.
Tanqueray nearly a score of plays have come from Pinero’s
pen, some of them, such as Jris and Midchannel, plaittly show-
ing a change of method on the part of the author. The plots
are more tightly constructed, the anterior action is implied and
woven skilfully into the scene, theories of heredity, predestined
guilt, and a sort of social redemption are hinted at. No one
is a greater master than Pinero in depicting the nuances of
the fashionable drawing-room and boudoir, or in forging an
effective climax.

Henry Arthur Jones (born 1851) offered his first play,
A Clerical Error, in 1879. Like Pinero, Mr. Jones learned his
technique from the French. In 1884 he adapted Ibsen’s Doll’s
House for the English public under the title Breaking a But-
terfly. Perhaps no more eloquent revelation could be made of
the difference in the dramatic world between the spirit of today
and of forty-three years ago. It would be a bold person now
who would offer any “‘adaptation” whatever of Ibsen, and with
such a title! At the time, however, adaptations were in order,
and Ibsen was then only another European playwright, not a
prophet. Mr. Jones continued his work with domestic comedy
and social pieces, including The Masqueraders and The Bauble
Shop. In 1896 he wrote Michael and His Lost Angel, gen-
erally considered his strongest drama. It is a study of small-
town people, concerned with the expiation of guilt. It is bothVICTORIANS AND THEIR PREDECESSORS 309

sentimental and romantic, with the solemn attitude towards
sexual irregularity which generally characterized the Victorian
writer, Mr. Jones, however, has shown a kind of evangelistic
spirit in regard to the stage: a perception of its possible no-
bility and truth, and a desire to contribute to its ethical and
moral value.

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GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY AND SCANDINAVIA:
1800-1875

The drama must, then, go on treating over and over emotions
the same in kind. Real novelty comes in presenting them as they
affect men and women who are in ideas, habits, costume, speech,
and environment distinctly of their time. Their expression of the
old elemental emotions brings novelty—GerorGE PIERCE BAKER,
Dramatic Technique.

The most notable result of the romantic movement in its
later years in Germany was the production of a group of tal-
ented young writers whose passionate souls seemed born to
endure morbid sufferings. The sorrows of Werther were re-
peated and intensified in such men as Heinrich von Kleist
(1777-1811) who, in the space of thirty-four years, served as
soldier, a minor government official, a newspaper writer, story
writer, and dramatist. His brief and stormy life ended in
suicide. In his first play, The Schroffenstein Family (1803),
written in Switzerland whither the author had gone with the
intention of becoming a Bauer, or small farmer, he used a
theme similar to that of Romeo and Juliet. The play is both
extravagant and powerful. Six tragedies and one comedy fol-
lowed from the pen of Kleist; and though they were marked
by rich talent—imagination, humor, good dialogue, and excel-
lent character portrayal—yet they won little or no recognition
during the author’s lifetime. He never saw one of his plays
performed on the stage. In later days, however, he was ranked
as one of the best of Prussian dramatists, and the only good
playwright among the romanticists of his period. In The
Prinz von Homburg Kleist produced his last and best play.

Franz Grillparzer. 1791-1872. The most distinguished
name in the dramatic history of Austria in the nineteenth cen-

310GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY 311

tury is that of Grillparzer, who was trained in law, entered
government service in 1813, and remained at the official desk
for forty-three years. He was a born dramatist; and, in spite
of his treadmill occupation, produced a considerable body of
literary work. His first drama, The Ancestress (Die Ahnfrau,
1817), a fate tragedy, was written in three weeks of intense
concentration, and brought him immediate recognition. It is
a gloomy piece, comparable only to the horror tales of Poe,
artificial to twentieth-century taste but considered powerful in
its time. There followed nine tragedies and one comedy; and
in two of these works the author used native historical ma-
terial. Ina trilogy called The Golden Fleece he took an an-
cient theme which has fascinated many dramatists. It includes
the tragedy of Medea, which the author sought to interpret in
terms of modern ideas of faithfulness and honor. In Dream
Is a Life he reversed the Calderon play (La Vida es Suefio),
using the device of the dream to foreshadow coming events in
the life of the hero. He was able to write good dialogue and
to construct a sound plot, with charming, heroic, or passionate
characters. His plays have been popular on the European
stage until recently, and he still has an honored place among
the “old masters.”

Minor German playwrights. There are few names in the
nineteenth century worthy to rank with those of Kleist and
Grillparzer. Christian Grabbe (1801-1836), an extravagantly
ambitious youth, began his career with two pessimistic, blood-
curdling plays, The Duke of Gothland and Don Juan and
Faust, following them with a number of historical pieces well
conceived and executed. Count von Platen’s special gift was
for satire, The Fatal Fork and Romantic Cédipus being clever
parodies on the pseudo-classic fate tragedy. One of the few
instances of the use of a modern historical theme was in a
tragedy called The Death of Danton (1835), by Georg Bich-
ner, who died at the age of twenty-four. The middle years
of the century witnessed a change in the tone of the drama
from extravagant action and romantic types of character to
discussion,—Tendenz-Drama. The stage again began to be
used, as in all its history it has periodically been used, for the

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212 GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY

presentation of political and religious ideas. One of the writers
of Tendenz-Drama was Karl Gutzkow (1811-1878), whose
first prose tragedy, Richard Savage (1839), though somewhat
confused and unreal, yet expressed thoughts and longings which
had not hitherto appeared in German plays. In a long succes-
sion of tragedies, some in prose, others in blank verse, he re-
mains for the most part the preacher and pamphleteer rather
than the dramatist. His best known work, Uriel Acosta
(1847), is based upon a historical incident of seventeenth-
century Amsterdam, and has for its theme the liberation of
the Jews from religious oppression. It is skilfully constructed
and effective both as literature and as drama.

Friedrich Hebbel. 1813-1863. The best German dramatist
of the middle years of the century was Hebbel who, at the age
of twenty-six, composed a prose tragedy called Judith. Its
success procured its author a pension from the Danish govern-
ment. Being thus enabled to travel and study, Hebbel evolved
a theory of the stage which in some respects anticipated that
of Ibsen. He disapproved of the play of discussion (Tendenz-
Drama), also of the cult of beauty or entertainment for.its own
sake. He claimed that characters, to be convincing, should
live out on the stage their most intense and vital experiences;
and that the drama, if used as a pulpit, should teach through
action rather than by discussion. Though his theories were
sound, yet his plays are mostly a bit under standard and de-
pressingly realistic. Genoveva and Gyges and His Ring illus-
trate his attempt to throw new light upon old themes.

Otto Ludwig (1813-1865), like Hebbel, believed that the
drama should be brought back to life and reality, and in The
Hereditary Forrester (1840) achieved a play which did to
some extent lift the stage out of its insignificance. Gustav
Freytag (1816-1895) was more celebrated for his novels than
for his three or four dramas, though they were popular in their
time. His most important service was his analysis and ex-
planation of the principles of drama, which he set forth in
1863. This was practically the first time since Aristotle that
the technique of playwriting had been seriously considered and
formulated by a European writer.AND SCANDINAVIA: 1800-1875 313

ITALY

In his Contemporary Drama of Italy Professor Landor Mac-
Clintock has pointed out that the Italians are a histrionic rather
than a dramatic people, and that in all their history they have
no name to compare with Shakespeare, Marlowe, or Jonson.
The eighteenth century had produced Goldoni in comedy and
Alfieri in tragedy,—the former a sane, good-humored fun-
maker, the latter a writer of high moral purpose, a follower of
the classic mode, and a passionate advocate of social and po-
litical freedom. During the greater part of the nineteenth cen-
tury the country was engaged in great struggles—with Na-
poleon and Austria from without, and with warring political
and religious factions from within. As in every other Euro-
pean country, except perhaps Russia, the stage was largely sup-
plied by importations from Paris; and native writers were fol-
lowers of the French schools. Therefore the forms which
flourished in France, reappeared in Italy.

Melodrama. The best of the writers of melodrama was
Pietro Giacometti (1816-1882), who, according to his own ac-
count, by reading Victor Hugo and Dumas, was led to the be-
lief that “by dint of creating seduced ladies, . . . poisons, dag-
gers, assassinations, strugglings, ghosts, butchers and grave-
diggers, one could become a dramatic author,—that is to say,
with some new and original ideas scattered here and there.”
Giacometti wrote nearly a hundred plays, most of which are
characterized by clever craftsmanship. Among the best are
Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, and Civil Death. The
latter, a reform drama dealing with political imprisonment, was
praised by Zola. The celebrated actor Salvini performed the
principal rdéle in England and the United States within the
memory of men now living.

Romanticism. The chief representative of the romantic
school in the early part of the century was Alessandro Man-
zoni (1785-1873) who, like Alfieri, was a powerful advocate of
freedom. His nature, however, was warmer and more sym-
pathetic than that of the earlier writer. Manzoni strove to
make a compromise between the romantic and the pseudo-314 GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY

classic styles, keeping the chorus and the long declamatory
speeches, but otherwise throwing off the bonds of formalism.
He strove for “unity of impression,” effective scenes, and ap-
pealing characters; but in some cases his plays seem to be
merely a succession of incidents instead of drama. The
Countess of Carmagnola (1819) and Adelchi (1822) are im-
portant as illustrations of the revolt from the tradition of Al-
fieri, and also on account of their fiery patriotism.

Historical drama. There were in Italy few studies of con-
temporary social life such as had appeared in other countries ;
but there was a revival of interest in national history. Giovanni
Niccolini (1782-1861) began his career with poetic tragedies
of the pseudo-classic type, using historical or semi-historical
themes. Antonio Foscarini, Giovanni da Procida, and Rosa-
munda d’Ingliterra are among his titles; but they, like most of
his other plays, are better suited for reading than for acting.
In Niccolini, as in Alfieri and Manzoni, there was an active
fire of patriotism and love of freedom, which found expres-
sion in his work. Arnoldo di Brescia is considered his best
drama. For the most part, the writers leaned toward the ro-
mantic style. Leopoldo Marenco (1831-1899), in The Falconer
of Pietro Ardena, made use of a medieval tale. Angelo de
Gubernatis (1840-1913) treated oriental themes; and Pietro
Cossa (1834-1881), who is called “the first genuine man of the
theater in the nineteenth century,” wrote in verse on the sub-
ject of Nero, Messaline, Cleopatra, and Plautus and His Cen-
tury. Cossa was not a distinguished poet, but he was stronger
and more rugged in his characterizations than many of his
countrymen. Giovanni Bovio (1841-1903) chose religious sub-
jects in Saint Paul and Christ at the Feast of Purim. There
were also talented imitators of Shakespeare, such as the broth-
ers Pindemonte, who belong to the early years of the century.

Although the romanticists of this period seem to have pro-
duced no masterpiece, yet through them the deadening conven-
tionalities of the older schools were in a measure dissipated,
the minds of spectators and readers were turned towards patri-
otic and humanitarian subjects, and contemporaneous social
conditions were brought to light. The link between the oldAND SCANDINAVIA: 1800-1875 315

and the new schools was Giacosa, whose work will be consid-
ered in a succeeding chapter.

DENMARK

The most prominent figure in Danish literature during the
early part of the nineteenth century was Adam Ohlenschlager
(1779-1850), who was born in Copenhagen of German par-
entage. In 1805 he wrote The Legend of Aladdin, counted
one of the masterpieces of European literature. On his trav-
els he visited Goethe and other literary celebrities, and while
living in Germany he composed Earl Haakon, his finest trag-
edy. Our chief interest in Ohlenschlager centers in the fact
that he was one of the first, if not the very first, to conceive of
using the figures of Norse mythology in his plots. His plays
attained a sort of recognition among the learned; but the leg-
ends of Siegfried and Brunhild were then too unfamiliar to the
public to permit of any general or immediate popularity.

Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), known to the world
through his fairy tales far better than through his dramas, was
a somewhat successful writer for the stage. His first piece, a
satire on the excesses of the school of chivalry and romance,
was followed by fairy plays, comedies and romantic dramas.
His work now seems to be lacking in backbone and sinew.
During the mid-years of the century many minor playwrights
flourished, the most important of whom was Johan Ludwig
Heiberg (1791-1860), the son of Peter Heiberg, exiled in the
eighteenth century for his “radical” plays. Johan was a close
student and admirer of Calderon, and at the age of twenty-
five he brought out two plays which won instant recognition.
The lure of the Parisian theater, however, was greater than
his desire for originality. He introduced into Denmark the
French vaudevilles, just then at the height of their success,
and followed their pattern to some extent in his own works,
which were full of delightful humor, catchy melodies, and in-
gratiating characters. Though scoffed at generally by the crit-
ics, they were applauded by the people. A Soul After Death
is a satire on contemporaneous fads, somewhat after the man-ety
\ -

316 GERMANY, AUSTRIA, ITALY

ee eee

ner of Aristophanes. He used fairy tales, legendary themes,
or current social fashions, and made a success with them all.
With the work of Heiberg and other native writers, the Danish
theater made remarkable progress, producing poetical dramas,
historical tragedies, and comedies. Taken all in all, during the
second and third quarters of the century it was probably better
served than any other European stage except that of France.

NoRWAY

After the political separation of Norway and Denmark in
1814, it was but natural that a desire for literary independence
should rise. The first national dramatist of Norway to attain
European fame was Bjornstjerne Bjornson (born 1832) who,
in his first play, declared his belief in the use of national sub-
jects, in simple and unaffected dialogue, and in the exclusion
of long, declamatory speeches. After several unsuccessful
plays he aroused great enthusiasm with a tragedy called Maria
Stuart nm Scotland. Any play on this subject would of course
challenge comparison not only with Schiller’s fine work, but
also with that of many other excellent craftsmen. Critics
have remarked that while Bjornson portrayed a picturesque
and seductive heroine, yet through a weak ending the drama
falls far short of being a masterpiece. During a period of
about fifty years Bjornson produced, besides a large amount
of other literary work, more than a score of plays, using
themes from the Norse sagas, from contemporaneous and an-
cient history, and from modern social life. Bjornson belongs
to the group of notable writers who in the nineteenth century
fought for liberalism in government, in religion, and for the
redress of social wrongs. He has the keen eye for injustice
that characterized Ibsen; but his methods of regeneration seem
more humane and genial.CHAPTER XXXIII

IBSEN, STRINDBERG, .AND THE DRAMATIC
AWAKENING

Ibsen replaces the old formula with a new, vital one—Truth at
all hazards. .. . This Ibsen of the over-arching poetic power, is
a man disdainful of our praise or blame, knowing, with the subtle
prevision of genius, that one day the world will go to him for
the consolations of his austere art—JAMES HuNEKER, Iconoclasts.

Looking back over the mid-years of the nineteenth century,
one can see that there were numerous quiet but unmistakable

signs of the coming of a change in the dramatic world. As
early as 1844 Hebbel in Germany had protested against the

clever but artificial plays that formed the chief attraction of
the European stage. He made scathing comment upon the
emptiness and monotony of the themes, upon the use of asides,
soliloquies, mechanical plots and puppet-like characters. In
his tragedy Mary Magdalene he illustrated his ideas concerning
sincerity in the treatment of theme and character, and antici-
pated in a measure the theories set forth by Ibsen. Zola, fa-
mous as an exponent of naturalism in fiction, wrote a pamphlet
on the necessity of naturalism in the theater; and, with char-
acteristic eloquence, he made a plea for new life, greater vigor,
and action more in accord with actual experience. These men,
with others whose voices were more timidly raised, were the
heralds of a new day; or perhaps prophets foretelling the
break-up of the old régime.

Henrik Ibsen. 1828-1906. In the entire history of litera-
ture, there are few figures like Ibsen’s. Practically his whole
life and energies were devoted to the theater ; and his offerings,
medicinal and bitter, have changed the history of the stage.
The story of his life,—his birth March 20, 1828, in the little
Norwegian village of Skien, the change in family circumstances

317

ea |318 IBSEN, STRINDBERG, AND

from prosperity to poverty when the boy was eight years old,
his studious and non-athletic boyhood, his apprenticeship to an
apothecary in Grimstad, and his early attempts at dramatic
composition,—all these items are well known. His spare hours
were spent in preparation for entrance to Christiania Univer-
sity, where, at about the age of twenty, he formed a friend-
ship with Bjérnson. About 1851 the violinist Ole Bull gave
Ibsen the position of “theater poet” at the newly built National
Theater in Bergen—a post which he held for six years. In
1857 he became director of the Norwegian Theater in Chris-
tiania; and in 1862, with Love’s Comedy, became known in his
own country as a playwright of promise. Seven years later,
discouraged with the reception given to his work and out of
sympathy with the social and intellectual ideals of his country,
he left Norway, not to return for a period of nearly thirty
years. He established himself first at Rome, later in Munich.
Late in life he returned to Christiania, where he died May 23,
1906.

Ibsen’s plays. The productive life of Ibsen is conveniently
divided into three periods: the first ending in 1877 with the
successful appearance of The Pillars of Society; the second
covering the years in which he wrote most of the dramas of
protest against social conditions, such as Ghosts; and the third,
marked by the symbolic plays, The Master Builder and When
We Dead Awaken. The first of the prose plays, Love's
Comedy (1862) made an impression in Norway, and drew the
eyes of thoughtful people to the new dramatist, though its
satirical, mocking tone brought upon its author the charge of
being a cynic and an atheist. The three historical plays, or
dramatic poems, Brand, Emperor and Galilean, and Peer Gynt,
written between 1866 and 1873, form a monumental epic.
These compositions cannot be considered wholly or primarily
for the stage; they are the poetic record of a long intellectual
and spiritual struggle. In Brand there is the picture of the
man who has not found the means of adjustment between the
mechanical routine of daily living and the deeper claims of the
soul; in Emperor and Galilean is a portrayal of the noblest type
of pagan philosophy and manhood, illustrated in the EmperorTHE DRAMATIC AWAKENING 319

Julian, set off against the ideals of the Jewish Christ; and in
Peer Gynt is a picture of the war within the soul of a man in
whom are no roots of loyalty, faith, or steadfastness.

When The Young Men’s League was produced, the occasion,
like the first appearance of Hernani, became locally historic.
The play deals with political theories, ideas of liberty and social
justice; and in its presentation likenesses to living people were
discovered, and fierce resentments were aroused. The tumult
of hissing and applauding during the performance was so great
that the authorities interfered. The Pillars of Society, Ibsen’s
fifteenth play, was the first to have a hearing throughout Eu-
rope. It was written in Munich, where it was performed in
the summer of 1877. In the autumn it was enacted in all the
theaters of Scandinavia, whence within a few months it spread
over the continent, appearing in London before the end of the
year. The late Jatnes Huneker, one of the most acute critics
of the Norwegian seer, said: “The Northern Aristophanes,
who never smiles as he lays on the lash, exposes in The Pillars
of Society a varied row of whited sepulchres. . . . There is
no mercy in Ibsen, and his breast has never harbored the milk
of human kindness. This remote, objective art does not throw
out tentacles of sympathy. It is too disdainful to make the
slightest concession, hence the difficulty in convincing an audi-
ence that the poet is genuinely human.”

The Pillars of Society proved, once for all, Ibsen’s emanci-
pation, first, from the thrall of romanticism, which he had
pushed aside as of no more worth than a toy; and, secondly,
from the domination of French technique, which he had mas-
tered and surpassed. In the plays of the second period there
are evident Ibsen’s most mature gifts as a craftsman as well as
that peculiar philosophy which made him the Jeremiah of the
modern social world. In An Enemy of the People the struggle
is between hypocrisy and greed on one side, and the ideal of
personal honor on the other; in Ghosts there is an exposition
of a fate-tragedy darker and more searching even than in
CEdipus; and in each of the social dramas there is exposed, as
under the pitiless lens of the microscope, some moral cancer.
Ibsen forced his characters to scrutinize their past, the condi-

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tions of the society to which they belonged, and the methods by
which they had gained their own petty ambitions, in order that
they might pronounce judgment upon themselves. The action
is still for the most part concerned with men’s deeds and out-
ward lives, in connection with society and the world; and his
themes have largely to do with the moral and ethical relations
of man with man.

In the third period the arena of the conflict has changed to
the realm of the spirit; and the action illustrates some effort
at self-realization, self-conquest, or self-annihilation. The
Master Builder and When We Dead Awaken must explain
themselves, if they are to be explained at all; for they are
meaningless if they do not light, in the mind of the reader or
spectator, a spark of the same clairvoyant insight with which
they were written. In them are characters which, like certain
living men and women, challenge and mystify even their closest
friends and admirers. Throughout all the plays there are sym-
bols—the wild duck, the mill race, the tower, or the open sea—
which are but the external tokens of something less familiar
and more important; and the dialogue often has a secondary
meaning, not with the witty double entendre of the French
school, but with suggestions of a world in which the spirit, ill
at ease in material surroundings, will find its home.

It is significant that Ibsen should arrive, by his own route,
at the very principles adopted by Sophocles and commended
by Aristotle,—namely, the unities of time, place and action,
with only the culminating events of the tragedy placed before
the spectator. After the first period he wrote in prose, abol-
ishing all such ancient and serviceable contrivances as servants
discussing their masters’ affairs, comic relief, asides and solilo-
quies. The characters in his later dramas are few, and there
are no “veils of poetic imagery.”

Ibsen’s moral ideals. The principles of Ibsen’s teaching, his
moral ethic, was that honesty in facing facts is the first req-
uisite of a decent life. Human nature has dark recesses which
must be explored and illuminated; life has pitfalls which must
be recognized to be avoided ; and society has humbugs, hypocri-
sies, and obscure diseases which must be revealed before theyTHE DRAMATIC AWAKENING 321

can be cured. To recognize these facts is not pessimism; it is
the moral obligation laid upon intelligent people. To face the
problems thus exposed, however, requires courage, honesty,
and faith in the ultimate worth of the human soul. Man must
be educated until he is not only intelligent enough, but cour-
ageous enough to work out his salvation through patient en-
durance and nobler ideals. Democracy, as a cure-all, is just
as much a failure as any other form of government; since the
majority in politics, society, or religion is always torpid and
content with easy measures. It is the intelligent and morally
heroic minority which has always led, and always will lead, the
human family on its upward march. Nevertheless, we alone
can help ourselves; no help can come from without. Further-
more—and this is a vital point in understanding Ibsen—ex-
perience and life are a happiness in themselves, not merely a
means to happiness; and in the end good must prevail. Such
are some of the ideas that can be distilled from the substance
of Ibsen’s plays.

On the plane of practical methods Ibsen preached the eman-
cipation of the individual, especially of woman. He laid great
stress upon the principle of heredity, often perhaps to an ex-
tent that would be repudiated by the science of today. He
made many studies of disordered minds, and analyzed relent-
lessly the common relationships—sister and brother, husband
and wife, father and son. There is much in these relation-
ships, he seems to say, that is based on sentimentalism, on a
desire to dominate, on hypocrisy and lies. He pictured the
unscrupulous financier, the artist who gives up love for the
fancied demands of his art, the unmarried woman who has
been the drudge and the unthanked burden-bearer—all with a
cool detachment which cloaks, but does not conceal, the pas-
sionate moralist.

From the seventh decade of the last century to his last play
in 1899, the storm of criticism, resentment, and denunciation
scarcely ceased.t_ On the other hand, the prophet and artist

1 The late William Archer, critic, author, and translator of several of
the Ibsen plays, made an extraordinary collection of the epithets and
curses showered upon the author of Ghosts.

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:322 IBSEN, STRINDBERG, AND

which were united in Ibsen’s nature found many champions
and friends. In Germany he was hailed as the leader of the
new era; in England his champion, William Archer, fought
many a battle for him; but in the end no one could escape his
example. Young playwrights learned from him, reformers
adopted his ideas, and moralists quoted from him as from a
sacred book. His plays scorched, but they fascinated the ris-
ing generation, and they stuck to the boards. Psychologists
discovered a depth of meaning and of human understanding in
his delineation of character. He did not found a school, for
every school became his debtor. He did not have followers,
for every succeeding playwright was forced in a measure to
learn from him.

August Strindberg. 1849-1912. The greatest exponent of
the so-called naturalistic school was Strindberg, born in Sweden
in a home of extreme poverty. His childhood was stormy and
unhappy, he was afflicted by periodic attacks of insanity, and
for most of his life was under the spell of an erotic mania.
Unable to complete his course at Upsala University, he never-
theless plunged into the study of chemistry and attained some
recognition in that subject. Later we find him seeking the
magic fluid which turns all base metals into gold. He was
three times married and divorced; and in a published work he
told the bitter story of his marital experiences with such
frankness as to scandalize whatever public he had secured.
In profession he was successively teacher, editor, actor. Pass-
ing through various stages of intellectual development, he was
in turn a believer in the Christian religion, a free-thinker, a
so-called atheist, a socialist, a dabbler in spiritualism,—and in
each phase was undoubtedly sincere.

Strindberg was a poet and novelist as well as dramatist, his
works in their collected edition filling forty volumes. His first
play, Master Olaf, appeared in 1872, and with other early
pieces belongs rather in the romantic class. In 1887 he pro-
duced The Father, probably the most powerful play of the
naturalistic school; and, to one reader at least, one of the most
terrible plays in existence. The Countess Julia is equally
shocking in a different way: not primarily because it is porno-THE DRAMATIC AWAKENING 323

graphic, but because it reproduces with almost fiendish in-
tensity the pain and disillusion which can come from thwarted
desires and contaminated blood. Strindberg partially stated his
own creed: “I find the joy of life in the powerful, terrible
struggle of life; and the capability of experiencing something,
of learning something, is a pleasure to me.” He was bitterly
opposed to what is called woman’s emancipation, regarding
woman’s duty as, first, becoming wife and mother; and, sec-
ond, administering to man’s needs or clearing the path for his
larger achievements. He believed that purity in man, and
therefore in the state, could only be achieved at the cost of
happiness and pleasure; that there was no possible reconcile-
ment between man’s desires and his personal morality.

The force and vigor of Strindberg’s talent for dramatic writ-
ing was sufficient to overcome, to some extent, the abnormal
and grisly nature of his plays. Furthermore, he could at will
portray lovely and poetic scenes, as in Swanwhite and Lucky
Pehr, which have much the same fanciful beauty as Maeter-
linck’s Blue Bird. He was specially skilful in one-act pieces,
and could project characters that are clear-cut and powerful,
winning from his countrymen the title of the “Shakespeare of
Sweden.”

The dramatic awakening. Ibsen proved to be merely the out-
standing figure of a constantly increasing group of protestants
against the emptiness and monotony of the earlier nineteenth
century stage. The last quarter of the century witnessed an
awakening from the long period of comparative insignificance.
Playhouses began to multiply, audiences became more intelli-
gent and critical, and men of talent began to turn in increasing
number to the stage for the expression of their ideas. For the
dramatist, there began a period of activity, experimentation
and enlargement which has not yet reached its culmination.
For the producers, there were several departures from the old
methods, one of which was the organization of theater groups,
both professional and amateur, for the patronage of plays
which did not readily find a welcome on the commercial stage.
In 1887 M. Antoine, a theater manager of independent per-
sonality and courage, established in Paris the Théatre Libre,324 IBSEN, STRINDBERG, AND

which became for a time the rallying point for all the protests
against false classicism, sweet romanticism, and mechanical
technique. His policy was to eliminate everything that seemed
untrue to life, to present faithful studies of present-day social
conditions, and to give no play, even the most successful, more
than three consecutive nights. Above all things, the stage,
theoretically at least, was to be free: every phase of life could
be pictured, provided there were only life and sincerity in the
portrayal; everything was to be tolerated except what was
machine-made and rubber-stamped.

In the reaction against the old style of play the new play-
wrights often went to extremes, presenting scenes reeking with
sex, characters drawn from the gutter, and dialogue that was
coarse and brutal. Any play performed on the boards of the
Théatre Libre in the early days of its existence was fairly
certain to be denounced as shocking by some one; but it was
also fairly certain of finding intelligent, perhaps enthusiastic
approval. Naturally such an opportunity as that offered by
M. Antoine was sometimes abused; but the influence of his
organization was markedly liberalizing and profitable.

Within a few years after the establishment of the Théatre
Libre, there was opened in Berlin Die Freie Biihne (1889),
with the same purpose of providing an open forum for play-
wrights who could not get a hearing through the established
managers. In London, Mr. J. E. Grein inaugurated the Inde-
pendent Theater, and Miss Horniman a similar one in Man-
chester. Early in the present century, in Dublin, Mr. W. B.
Yeats, Lady Gregory and others founded the Abbey Theater,
whose purpose was not commercial but esthetic and national.
On these various stages were welcomed presentations of the
struggles of real life or of imaginary worlds, interpreted in
terms which had an interest for thoughtful and intelligent peo-
ple. Dramatists everywhere now acknowledged important,—
Strindberg, Ibsen, Bjornson, Hauptmann, Shaw, Yeats, and
Synge,—were first given a hearing in these free theaters. The
first performance of Ibsen’s Ghosts was given in Germany at
Die Freie Biihne in 1880, in France at the Thédtre Libre in
1890, and in England at the Independent Theater in 1891.THE DRAMATIC AWAKENING 325

Other plays, now known throughout Europe and America,
show a similar history. Had it not been for the opportunity
thus given for the performance of unusual plays, the drama
of the nineteenth century would have been infinitely poorer.’
[t is scarcely too much to say that since 1890 every young play-
wright with an individual point of view, and every new play
unusual enough to provoke discussion, were first heard of
through the independent and free theaters.

In addition to these organizations there sprang up every-
where, about the close of the nineteenth and the beginning of
the present century, “‘little theater” groups, consisting some-
times of a few playwrights and actors who financed their own
productions, sometimes of talented amateurs who were willing
to risk something for the sake of the art. The “little” theaters
were often small auditoriums with stage settings and lighting
apparatus of the simplest description, needing only a meagre
financial outlay for any single performance. These little thea-
ters have virtually been workshops for experiment and prac-
tice, and have many times proved their value.CHAPTER XXXIV
THE “LAST FIFTY YEARS ON PHE CONTINENT

. when we have put before us one of those poignant scenes,
or situations, or figures of human life, where good and evil,
strength and weakness are so inextricably mixed, where all that
might, that should turn out well does turn out so ill, then we can-
not comprehend intellectually, do not try to, we can simply receive
the impression emotionally or spiritually, we cannot but be seized
by a mixture of pity and awe, as Aristotle says. And that feeling
is our feeling for the Tragic—EpWaArpb Everett HALE, Jr., Drama-
tists of Today.

If the date 1900 be regarded for a moment as a turning
point, then, for the dramatists, the twenty-five years preceding
might justly be considered a period of siege or battle, and the
years following a period of occupation. Before 1900, the rad-
ical writer for the stage often had to fight; since then he has
simply had to answer the question, “Now that you have ar-
rived, what have you to offer us?”

In general terms the answer has been, of course, the same
old answer made by all the historic reformers of the stage,
namely, the elimination of worn-out traditions and the substi-
tution of new subjects and new forms. More particularly, the
answer took a few well-defined shapes. The old guard of the
earlier nineteenth century had stood for the carefully con-
structed plot a la Scribe: the newcomers therefore refused the
domination of the well-made play, returning in some cases to a
sprawling, spineless series of incidents; the old guard stood
for a plentiful admixture of sentiment concerning deserving
but consumptive harlots, kind burglars and noble bandits: the
new school turned these figures into victims of social injustice,
bad laws, or capitalistic greed; the old school preferred on the
whole optimistic views of life, especially at the curtain; the

326THE LAST FIFTY YEARS 327

new style was content to let the audience digest what was
often a highly unpalatable dose, or, on occasion, ended the play
with a sermon on the sins of society; the old-timers were
strong for scenes in which mother-love, home, and the flag
called forth eloquent speeches before the footlights; the new
school regarded such devices with contempt. Satirists ap-
peared, scoffng at the tameness or hypocrisies of the old
régime ; and side by side with them appeared also the romanti-
cists, introducing the same old swashbuckling heroes and lovely
heroines clothed in new cloaks and mantles.

GERMANY AND AUSTRIA

As Germany had been among the first to recognize the force
and virility of the work of Ibsen, so it was also one of the
first to produce plays illustrative of the “new” ideas. In 1880,
the year of the establishment of Die Freie Biihne, Gerhardt
Hauptmann (born 1862) suddenly became nationally known
through the production of a play called Before Sunrise (Vor
Sonnenaufgang), depicting with painful realism the sufferings
of a neurotic and sensitive youth during the difficulties attend-
ing adolescence. The performance, like that of Hugo’s Hernani
and Ibsen’s Pillars of Society, aroused much excitement and
almost brought on a battle between the old and the new schools.
In the dramas immediately following, Hauptmann experi-
mented with various themes; but in The Weavers (1892) he
seems to have strained dramatic possibilities to their utmost.
It is a series of brutal and grimy pictures of a company of
toilers in a remote district, far from civilization, religion, or
decency. There is no hero, scarcely a chief character. The
place of hero is filled by the community, whose miseries and
impotency in the face of capitalistic greed are portrayed with
bitterness.

In The Sunken Bell (1896), a poetic drama, Hauptmann
used the figures of German folk-lore in depicting an artist’s
struggles between his creative impulses and the calls of duty.
Heinrich the bell-caster is drawn away from his home and fam-
ily by the allurements of the mountains, where the beauty of the

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forest, the animals, the old magician, and the nymph Rauten-
delein make him forget his former life. The priest calls him
back, but the conflict has cost the life of his wife, the-loss of
his marvelous bell, which goes rolling down into the lake, and
finally the life of Heinrich himself. It is full of romantic
charm, with beautiful poetry and a few very effective scenes.
There is perhaps no more poignant moment in the whole
repertory of the stage than that in which is heard the tolling
of the bell, at first muffled and distant then louder and more
insistent, from its bed at the bottom of the lake.

Out of the score of dramas from the hand of Hauptmann,
one other deserves special attention for its originality and
beauty, namely, Hannele’s Journey to Heaven (Hanneles Him-
melfahrt), called by the author a dream-poem. It presents an
almshouse child abused and neglected, at the moment when,
after the delirium of fever, she first finds the delights and satis-
factions of Heaven. There is the good Tailor with the white
dress and the shoes for which she had longed, there is the kind
Mother, and the Physician who takes her hand and leads her
home. It is a tender picture, written in sincerity, which re-
mains in the mind long after the details of many plots have
been forgotten. Many other Hauptmann plays have had pro-
duction in various parts of Europe and America; and, taken
all in all, this writer must be considered the outstanding figure
in German drama.

Hermann Sudermann (born 1857) has achieved European
celebrity both as novelist and dramatist. From 1889, when
Honor (Die Ehre) was produced, to about 1909, he shared
laurels with Hauptmann, writing at least a score of plays, seven
of which are in one act. Less poetic than Hauptmann, Suder-
mann accepted the discipline of dramatic craftsmanship and
built his plots with conscientious care. His people are not
mere types, but recognizable figures of the world; and his plays
deal with familiar questions: the antagonism between the ideals
of the military aristocrat and the vulgar commoner, as in
Honor; between the right to “live one’s own life” and duty
to family and society, as in Sodoms Ende; or, more happily,
the peace that comes by voluntarily carrying one’s share of aON THE CONTINENT 329

burden and accepting responsibilities, as in Das Gliick im
Winkel. Sudermann is perhaps a little heavy in tre ating the
embroilments of sex, and too often opens to the spectator the
drawing-rooms of fashionable, erotic females, or unfolds the
liaisons of coldly sensual men of affairs: but he has power to
chain the interest. Probably his most important play is Magda
(Heimat, 1893), in w hich Mme Bernhardt, Signora Duse,
Mrs. Patrick Campbell, Mrs. Fiske, Mme Modjes! <a, and vari-
ous important German actresses have found a stellar rdle.

Other German or German-speaking writers have made inter-
esting contributions not only to their native stage but to Euro-
pean and American theaters everywhere. Franz Wedekind
(born 1864), in The Awakening of Spring (Friihlingser-
wachen), offered a serious but morbid study of youth, some-
what after the manner of Hauptmann’s Before Sunrise. Now
that the fever of the naturalistic school has somewhat abated,
this play seems remarkable for its sincerity rather than for its
dramatic interest. Of all the followers of the naturalistic
method, Wedekind perhaps most strikingly illustrated its weak-
ness,—the identification of life with de pravity and vice.

Hugo von Hoffmannsthal (born 1874) turned away from
realism and the modern schools to the classics and once again
brought Electra, Clytemnestra, and Cedipus on the stage. Ar-
thur Schnitzler, a physician of Vienna and a dramatist of Eu-
ropean fame, is in his plays largely concerned with the por-
trayal of light, amusing love affairs. His Anatol has become
widely known.

FRANCE AND BELGIUM

In his zeal for a closer connection between life and literature,
particularly literature in the form of drama and the novel,
Zola introduced into his stories members of such outcast sec-
tions of society as had heretofore been largely ignored. He
also advocated a “naturalistic” theater in which fellow crea-
tures of all types should find sympathetic portrayal. Zola’s
plays were mediocre; but Henri Becque (1837-1899) was more
successful in following Zola’s program than the preceptor him-

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self. In 1882 he demonstrated in The Ravens that an absorb-
ingly interesting play could be written in a style absolutely
contrary to the Scribe-Sardou pattern. It is drab and pessi-
mistic, depicting vulgar and selfish people; it has no catch-
scenes for the gallery; and the whole plot is practically re-
vealed in the first act. Like Becque’s early plays, it was re-
fused and almost scoffed at by theatrical managers; but when
at last it reached the boards its success was sensational, and
its author was hailed as a sort of leader of the new school.

Another sort of novelty was introduced to the Parisian stage
by Eugéne Brieux, born in Paris in 1858. The plays by which
he is best known are The Three Daughters of M. Dupont, The
Red Robe, and Damaged Goods (Les Avariés). M. Brieux’s
thesis seems to be: “Look now at all our hidden social evils:
forced motherhood, motherhood avoided by illegal medical
practices, venereal diseases transmitted to children, and sexual
practices unfavorable to the race. Let us talk over these mat-
ters in a grave and scientific spirit in order to enlighten the
world.” The result was a series of revolting and dreary
dramas beside which Ibsen seems almost invigorating. The
evident sincerity of the author and the truth of his pictures of
society are perhaps their best justification.

Reaction against the drabness of this out-clinic type of work
for the theater was inevitable, and came from a wide variety
of playwrights, among whom Rostand and Maeterlinck are pre-
eminent. The early plays of Maurice Maeterlinck (born in
Brussels in 1864), written in the one-act form, were for mar-
ionettes and had the atmosphere of a fairy tale. As his
esthetic philosophy crystallized, however, he evolved a theory
of the stage somewhat as follows: drama has been slow in
adapting itself to the changes in life and in thought; the time
has come to cast aside the mechanical formula, most of the
external action, and all theatrical “‘business” and _ trickery.
The playwright should try rather to create atmosphere, to fol-
low the ebb and flow of the spiritual currents of the soul, in
the moments when it is under the control of the sub-conscious,
“moments of ecstasy, of silent joys and luminous pauses.” In
a famous passage Maeterlinck asserts that an old man, sittingON THE CONTINENT 331

silent before the fire nursing his memories, may be quite as
dramatic a figure as the romantic lover who strangles his rival.
These silences, these pauses, must be interpreted, however;
and it is this interpretation that Maeterlinck offers in his most
characteristic dramas, such as The Blind, The Intruder, and
The Death of Tintagel. In all these pieces the action has re-
treated into the soul; the atmosphere is all.

Maeterlinck, however, has made concessions to more popular
ideas of stage-craft. There are eight or nine long dramas from
his hand, the most notable among them being Pelleas and
Melisande, Sister Beatrice, Monna Vanna, and The Blue Bird.
Pelleas and Melisande (1892) is a story of the Rimini type, in
which shadowy woods, dark castles, primitive punishments,
and cruel passions fill the scene. It is doubtless more familiar
through its use as a libretto for Debussy’s opera than as spoken
drama. Sister Beatrice (1901) is a modern miracle play illus-
trating the forgiveness and mercy of the Virgin quite accord-
ing to medieval standards. In Monna Vanna (1902) the scene
is placed in Italy at a time when the chieftains of rival cities
were at war. The incident which marks the climax is a vari-
ation of the famous oriental situation in which the conquering
general demands, as a tribute of war, the favorite wife of the
vanquished king. In Monna Vanna the lady willingly offers to
sacrifice herself in order to save the city; but the dénouement
is, after all, a surprise. The play had an immediate success
throughout Europe, but its performance was forbidden in Lon-
don. By the year 1903 the unusual, somewhat abstruse ideas
of the author had become sufficiently interesting to the Parisian
public to warrant a “Thédtre de Maeterlinck” formerly the
Gymnase. The Blue Bird, performed in 1908 in Moscow and
two years later in New York, preaches the simple lesson of
contentment by means of a fairy story, staged with a delight-
ful accompaniment of talking animals and excursions into fan-
ciful worlds. In this, as in most of the Maeterlinck plays,
there is a poetic, remote beauty, with pictures of a world which,
though unfamiliar, still seems to be home.

The most distinguished theatrical event of the late nine-
teenth century was doubtless the production of Cyrano de

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Bergerac (1897) whose author, Edmond Rostand (1864-
1918), left at his death half a dozen dramas, all of them in
verse and romantic in theme. His first work, called The Fan-
tastics (Les Romanesques) is, oddly enough, a delicate satire
on the perversions of the romantic school. The Faraway
Princess and The Samaritan Woman provided Mme Bern-
hardt with interesting, if not distinguished, rdles. It is, how-
ever, by his last three dramas, Cyrano de Bergerac, L’Aiglon,
and Chanticler that Rostand’s name will be remembered. They
stand alone in the roster of romantic plays; and each one,
while stamped with its author’s genius, yet has its own pecul-
lar excellence. Cyrano, for example, is first of all a play with
gorgeous poetry, full of wit and life; secondly, its plot, though
somewhat improbable, is yet of such a nature as to tickle the
fancy; and, thirdly, the author has been able to render fas-
cinating a hero with peculiar misfortunes. The role has
tempted some of the most gifted actors of contemporary and
recent times. In L’Aiglon the author has taken one of the
many eminent but insignificant creatures of history, and out of
his futile dreamings made a tragedy which echoes the tragedies
of all the dreamers of the world. In Chanticler quite a differ-
ent feat was accomplished: under the guise of the feathered
animals of the forest and barnyard, Rostand portrayed the
optimistic captain who, believing that he and his work are
essential to the proper running of the universe, suddenly finds
that the sun rises and all the world’s work goes on without his
help. In each of these three plays the author attacked not
only an interesting and subtle problem in psychology, but, espe-
cially in Cyrano and Chanticler, great difficulties in the way of
stage representation. These difficulties were surmounted with
precision and apparent ease. In the hands of Rostand the ro-
mantic play again offered an occasion for intense enjoyment,—
an enjoyment in which the sense of truth still prevailed, and
“reality” for a time was made synonymous with beauty.

ITALY

The transition period between the old and the new drama of
Italy was marked by two or three writers whose ability con-Kales

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sisted chiefly of being able to sense the taste of the times. Most
important of these transition writers was Giuseppe Giacosa
(1847-1906) whose dramas, if not masterpieces, were gen-
erally interesting and workmanlike. His ideas and methods
covered a wide range. One of his earliest plays, 4 Game of
Chess (1871), founded on an old French legend and written
in verse, is delicately idyllic in character. There followed sev-
eral historical plays, which in turn were followed by several
examples of social drama, represented by Luise (1883), in
which the usual sexual difficulties were portrayed and the case
solved by suicide. Coming under the influence of Becque,
Augier, and other European “reformers,” Giacosa more and
more employed material drawn from contemporary life.
Though he avoided violent action, yet he could set forth biting
situations ; and he came to be recognized as the chief exponent
of the naturalistic school in Italy. As the Leaves is perhaps
the best known of all his plays, it having been successful not
only in Italy but elsewhere in Europe. He was the author also
of the librettos for the operas of La Bohéme, Tosca, and
Madame Butterfly.

As in other parts of Europe, the revived interest in drama
divided its followers into two camps: the romantics, on the
one hand, and on the other the naturalists, who came in time
to be called the Verists. Giacosa was never an extremist, but
somewhat at home in both camps. Marco Praga (born 1862)
considered Giacosa too “wholesome” and idealistic to be true
to life. Praga disbelieved, or affected to disbelieve, in all good-
ness, purity, or faithfulness; and he was obsessed by sex and
the allurements of illicit or extravagant passions. The Virgins
and The Ideal Wife had considerable popularity. The Enam-
oured Woman was written especially for Eleanora Duse. Gio-
vanni Verga (born 1840), author of Cavalleria Rusticana, In
the Porter's Lodge, The Fox Hunt, and other plays, was also
much engaged with questions of sex, lust, and violence. He
stated as his chief purposes, first, to simplify the action of
drama and rid it of unnecessary conventions: secondly, to avoid
literary ornaments and conceits in the dialogue. Verga’s plays
reflect a powerful and an honest mind, sincerely sympathetic334 THE LAST FIFTY YEARS

with those who suffer; but his characters are too much pre-
occupied with extravagant and lustful passions.

At the end of the nineteenth century doubtless the most
notable name among Italian dramatists was that of Gabriele
d’Annunzio (born 1863), whose contribution to the stage, like
his life, has been interesting but contradictory. His early
work included biblical plays in which the commonly accepted
moral was reversed; and “dream plays” with splendid imagery
but little action. His first long drama, The Dead City (La
Citta Morte), is perhaps an attempt at a reconstruction of
classic tragedy. It has a morbid theme of love between brother
and sister, and for many readers only an equivocal value. La
Gioconda (1898), based on an old legend, is, like The Sunken
Bell of Hauptmann, a discussion of the needs of the artistic
temperament in the male. The role of the wife in this play
also had the advantage of being interpreted by Eleanora Duse.
A drama called Glory (1899) was refused the stage even by
the tolerant Italians. The ancient subject of Phedra has also
attracted D’Annunzio. The Daughter of Jorio (1904) is prob-
ably not only the most actable but also the most acceptable of
all his works. D’Annunzio has virtuosity and color as a poet,
and the ability to contrive effective situations and striking
characters. This is well illustrated in his Francesca da Rimini.
But he relies too much on words, and he is lacking in the social
conscience which often renders even a mediocre work signifi-
cant. Professor MacClintock describes him as “melancholy,
lacking in humor, contemptuous of the people, one to whom
faith, hope, charity are meaningless terms”; and one who “em-
bodies the dead or dying past of his nation.” *

Among the realists of Italy must be numbered Antonio
Fogazzarro (1842-1911), novelist as well as dramatist, whose
Red Carnation was counted a success; also the brothers Camillo
and Gianino Traversi. The former achieved considerable fame
as the author of The Rozeno Family (1891) in which a tragedy
of low life is portrayed with sincerity. Following the example
of the French, the brothers produced various one-act skits of
the more or less risqué vaudeville type. Gianino later produced

1Landor MacClintock, The Contemporary Drama of Italy.ON THE CONTINENT 335

a long list of comedies in which situations of the Sheridan-
Moliére sort prevailed. Roberto Bracco (1862) has been a
prolific writer for the stage, producing comedies, social dramas,
psychological plays, and pure tragedies, some of which have
traveled over Europe and into America. The Hidden Spring
is concerned with social problems. Don Pictro Carneso and
Lost in Darkness are considered among the best of his works.
The former piece was produced in New York in 1914. Spec-
tators have reported that the works of Bracco leave a pro-
found impression of pessimism; also that with him there are
still found many of the old-time stage devices, such as over-
heard conversations and lost letters.

Among the most provocative and stimulating of the present-
day writers is Luigi Pirandello (born 1867), a Sicilian who
studied in Germany and has won international honors as a
dramatist. His plays, some of which are in one act, are called
comedies, but they carry satire, psychological analysis, and
often more than a touch of the tragic. Pirandello is a thor-
oughly trained craftsman. Among his titles are Sicilian Limes,
If Not Thus, Six Characters in Search of an Author, and
Right You Are, If You Think You Are. Under his humor
lies the essentially melancholy temperament of the Sicilian ;
but beneath that is always the hint of something further, as if
he would say, “Let us be kind and considerate, since life is
not long, and the way is hard at best.”

Sem Benelli (born 1877) is the author of at least seven
dramas in verse. The Bookworm (1904) is, so far as the
writer knows, his only play in prose, and also the only one deal-
ing with contemporary modern life. All his other dramas are
based on medieval or ancient legends, or semi-historical inci-
dents, depicting the passions of hate, revenge, or some form
of subtle cruelty. The Supper of Jokes (known on the Eng-
lish and American stage as The Jest) made a great sensation
in Italy and in Europe generally. It isa play of intrigue, with
sensuous and glittering scenes in which the naked passions of
southern temperaments clash, take vengeance, and destroy
themselves. The Love of the Three Kings (1910) is best
known, at least outside of Italy, in its operatic form. Benelli

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Earner ew eee rah)336 THE LAST FIFTY YEARS

has a sure eye for effective and thrilling situations, and at his
best is poetic and imaginative. Moreover, he has been of ser-
vice in substituting for the eleven-syllable line of verse a more
vivid and flexible type, nearly resembling the English blank
verse, in which the style is free from artificial ornaments.

SPAIN

The old story of revolt against mechanical plots followed by
a sudden fever of “realism” or “naturalism” was repeated in
Spain, though in a somewhat milder form. As Giacosa in
Italy represented the connecting link between the old drama
and the new, so in Spain Jose Echegaray (1833-1916) formed
a similar link. The play most familiar to theater-goers outside
of Spain is his El Gran Galeoto (1908), known in English as
The World and His Wife. It is a satire on the pettiness and
cruelty of small-town respectability. The school of modern
realism is further represented by Linares Rivas, whose work
as dramatist has been carried on simultaneously with his activ-
ities as politician. Many of his plots hinge on domestic un-
happiness. He is a satirist and a reformer; and he (with
Benevente), has been accused of imitating the French. Stifling
(Aire de Fuera), The Claw (La Garra), and The Cage of the
Lioness (La Jaula de la Leona) are some of his titles.

Jose Benevente (born 1866), author of The Passion Flower
(La Malquerida) and The Bonds of Interest (Los Intereses
Creados, 1907), writes in prose, excludes physical action to a
great extent, and probes deeply into the evils of society. The
brothers Quintero are also exponents of realism and share with
Benevente the credit of ridding the stage of much that was
artificial and mechanical. Concha the Clean (Concha la
Limpia) and The House of Life (La Flor de la Vida) are by
the Quintero brothers; also several three-act pieces, each of
which has but two characters.

Since the beginning of the present century symbolic and
poetic drama has found special favor in Spain. Ramon Goy de
Silva, Jacinto Grau Delgado, and Martinez Sierra have con-
tributed to the species, the latter being known at the presentON THE CONTINENT 337

moment (1927) in New York by The Cradle Song (Cancién
de Cuna),—a delicate and unusual play. The most widely
known of the writers of poetic drama is perhaps Eduardo
Marquina, who has been courageous enough to discard nearly
everything in the way of theatrical tricks and trust to a well
constructed plot. The Poor Carpenter (El Pobrecito Car pin-
tero) well illustrates his poetic ability and his feeling for dra-
matic situation. Conditions in Spain, as elsewhere in Europe
and in America, are in many respects more favorable for dra-
matic enterprise than at any time during the past century; and
in Europe especially, with municipal theaters in almost every
capital, a system of short runs and stock companies, the out-
look for the theater is highly promising.

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;CHAPTER XXXV

THE LAST FIFTY YEARS IN ENGLAND
AND IRELAND

The drama, like the symphony, does not teach nor prove any-
thing —JoHN MILLINGTON SYNGE.

It has been noted in a previous chapter how the work of Sir
Arthur Pinero and of Mr. Henry Arthur Jones forms, in a
manner, a bridge between the pre-Ibsen and the post-Ibsen
drama of England. In the later years of the century there
was a marked rejuvenation of the theater; but there was no
such violent descent into the abysses of society as had appeared
in The Weavers of Hauptmann, nor any such pre-occupation
with morbid phases of life as had been seen in Wedekind’s
Awakening of Spring. Nor was there, on the other hand, any-
thing to parallel the jeweled brilliance of Rostand. One of the
most gifted writers, Oscar Wilde (1856-1900), was like Ros-
tand in one respect, however: he seemed to be wholly unaf-
fected by the revolutionary “schools” of the time. Wilde
wrote half a dozen comedies of social life, two of which, The
Importance of Being Earnest and Lady Windermere’s Fan, are
masterpieces of their type. The Wilde plays, like those of
Congreve, are vehicles for epigram, witty repartee, and com-
ments upon life and society which were thought bitterly caustic
in their day, and are still amusing. Underneath the verbal
fireworks is generally the solid structure of a well-built plot.
The one play not concerned with English life is Salome, origi-
nally written in French for Mme Bernhardt. It is ornate and
sumptuous in style, and possesses the theatrical effectiveness
peculiar to Wilde. After an initial performance in Paris in
1892 it was forbidden the French stage; but in 1901 it was
presented in Berlin, whence it has traveled to other parts of

338ENGLAND AND IRELAND 339

Europe and to America. It has had the longest run in Ger-
many of any English work. Wilde said of himself that he
had broadened the field and enriched the characters of English
drama.

George Bernard Shaw. Born 1856. The most conspicuous
example of the social reformer of the English-speaking stage
is, of course, Mr. Shaw, who though born in Dublin has spent
most of his life in London. Mr. Shaw is novelist and jour-
nalist, as well as dramatist; and his connection with the stage
began as dramatic critic. The necessity of attending the
theater several evenings a week and witnessing the plays cur-
rent on the London stage in the eighteen-nineties induced in
him a sort of fever—resentment, disgust, and weariness com-
bined. The remedy was for Mr. Shaw to write the plays him-
self. By the year 1898 he had scrutinized the social institu-
tions of his day and discovered that the incomes of many pious
people were derived from wicked sources, that the military hero
is often a silly ass and a baby to boot, that the industrial world
harbors injustices, and that men are often entrapped into mar-
riage by clever women. These discoveries were not new: Mr.
Shaw would be the first to point that out. For that very reason
he saw that they could be used as themes for the theater.
With his inexhaustible fluency and his renowned Irish wit, he
was able to turn them into readable and, in some cases, actable
plays. He began with “unpleasant” subjects, such as were ex-
hibited in Widowers’ Houses and Mrs. Warren’s Profession.
As The Second Mrs. Tanqueray had been the result of Sir
Arthur Pinero’s reaction to the Ibsen virus, so Mrs. Warren
was the result of Shaw’s inoculation. It was a courageous
achievement for its time, though now it seems somewhat ob-
vious and a little “dated.” It was produced on the English
stage through the enterprise of Messrs. Vedrenne and Barker,
who belonged to the independent group. It was by means of
other and more amusing plays, however, that Mr. Shaw found
his larger public. In Arms and the Man he satirized delight-
fully the uniform-adoring female, making fun of the picture-
book soldier and the pomposities of military heroes ; in Candida
he ridiculed the husband-wife-lover intrigue, turning the situa-

enerer a a

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5340 THE LAST FIPTY: YRARS IN

tion into half-earnest, half-extravagant comedy ; in The Man of
Destiny he showed Napoleon tricked by a clever woman; in
Cesar and Cleopatra he mocked at the long-accepted sanctities
of history; in St. Joan he likewise gave his own interpretation
of a half-legendary figure; in Man and Superman he created
an amazing picture of the throw-back of even the most civil-
ized persons under the stress of youth and love. In Back to
Methuselah he put on the stage a five-hour study of the prog-
ress and failures of the human race. He could even use the
conventionalized servants, the tea-parties and the stock situa-
tions of the early Victorians to advantage, turning them into
laughable parodies of themselves. In one of his prefaces he
says: “. .. far from taking an unsympathetic view of the
popular demand for fun, for fashionable dresses, for a pretty
scene or two, a little music, and even for a great ordering of
drinks by people with an expensive air from an if-possible-
comic-waiter, I was more than willing to show that the drama
can humanize these things as easily as they, in undramatic
hands, can dehumanize the drama.”

Entertaining as Mr. Shaw, the dramatist, has been, he is
primarily a salesman of ideas. He has written long plays with
nothing in them but argument; and even in the best of his
work he himself is the most conspicuous character. His cour-
age and skill in attacking smug conventions and traditional
prejudices amount to genius of the first order; and they were,
to the stage of the late nineteenth century, of far more worth
than a merely facile technique could possibly have been. He
has afforded better entertainment than any other living
preacher. If he has not created immortal characters he has
been the gadfly of his generation, routing the slothful and
stinging the sentimental. Like Ibsen, he is a passionate mor-
alist; and, like Aristophanes, he has felt himself at liberty to
attack anything. He has even cajoled and teased people into
the habit of reading plays. Before Shaw almost nobody, except
candidates for a Ph. D. in literature, ever read plays, new or
old; now, roughly speaking, since the publication of Plays
Pleasant and Unpleasant the reading of plays has become as
much a matter of course as the reading of the weekly journals.ENGLAND AND IRELAND 341

Shaw no longer shocks, however; he has become the venerable
dean of the profession.

Galsworthy and others. The author of Strife, Justice, The
Pigeon, and other plays, Mr. John Galsworthy (born 1867),
was educated at Oxford, read law, and later won distinction
both as novelist and critic. His first plays, The Silver Box
(1906) and Justice (1910), placed him definitely in the ranks
of reformers of social conditions; but he is less muilitant—pos-
sibly more bitter—than Mr. Shaw. With the courage of a
crusader, he has the temperament of an esthete and a recluse.
Where Mr. Shaw is abusive, personal and partisan, Mr. Gals-
worthy is detached and objective; where Mr. Shaw used the
bandwagon and trumpet, Mr. Galsworthy used the searchlight
and scalpel. His plays are skilfully constructed, with true
insight into character and good dialogue, showing, above all,
the unsparing realist disdainful of the gewgaws of romanti-
cism.

John Masefield, an Englishman who has served many years
on the sea, has won his finest distinction in the field of narra-
tive poetry. He is an uncompromising disciple of realism in
drama. Among several more or less “literary” plays and dra-
matic poems, The Tragedy of Nan (1908) seems to be best
adapted to the stage. It is, however, depressing and somewhat
lacking in the vigor and driving power which alone can carry
heavy tragic action. John Drinkwater, a well-known poet, is
one of the few writers who have been successful in utilizing
as heroes of their drama the figures of American history. His
Abraham Lincoln was widely accepted, both in England and in
the United States, as a sincere and moving picture of the great
emancipator.

Another disciple of realism is Mr. Granville Barker, born in
London in 1877, who has been both actor and manager, as well
as dramatist. In 1904 he became associated with Mr. ee
Vedrenne in the management of a London theater devoted
largely to the production of plays not of the conventional sort.
Mr. Barker has been instrumental in giving fine performances
of Greek plays both in England and in the United States, and
has himself written serious social dramas dealing with middle-

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ene oy342 THE LAST PIETY. YEARS VIN

class provincial people. He seems to avoid all appearance of a
constructed plot, and to present life much as it appears to an
onlooker, in its disjointed and sometimes fruitless scenes. The
best of his offerings, up to the present time, are The Madras
House and Waste. In Prunella (1904, in collaboration with
Mr. Laurence Housman), he departed from his earlier prac-
tices and made concessions to the average spectator’s love of
romance and glamour.

A whimsical and humorous gift belongs to Sir James Barrie,
born in Scotland in 1860, whose first plays appeared near the
end of the nineteenth century. In common with the realists,
Barrie has the power to produce local types of character, de-
tails of speech and conduct, and shades of temper, with un-
canny exactitude. His tendency towards realism, however,
goes no further. He has a careful regard for form, and he
never allows his desire for truthfulness of characterization to
lead him into depressing side-alleys. With subjects and people
taken from small-town Scotch life, as in Quality Street, The
Little Minister (dramatized from his novel), and What Every
Woman Knows, he has been a valiant defender of a sort of
sane idealism and happy fantasy. His romanticism does not
belie or misrepresent the essentials of human nature. He has
taken the old themes of the woman in revolt against too much
domesticity, the brilliant public man who needs a lesson in
humility, and the perfect servant who, by an unexpected turn
of affairs, exchanges places with his master (The Admuirable
Crichton), and given them to the public with humor, sympathy,
and quiet understanding. His Peter Pan, a fairy play, with
the title role enacted by Miss Maude Adams, was one of the
few dramas which could compete in popularity with Rostand’s
Cyrano.

Remembering the innumerable attempts and constant failures
of nineteenth century writers to produce actable poetic drama,
we should specially note the career of Mr. Stephen Phillips
(born in England in 1867), and his success in that field. Mr.
Phillips was for some years an actor, later a teacher. His
Herod, played by Mr. Beerbohm Tree in London, has also been
given successfully in Germany and in the United States. TheENGLAND AND IRELAND 343

Sin of David, Ulysses, and Paolo and Francesca have found
many admirers, in spite of the fact that poetic drama is still, as
in the nineteenth century, a hazardous venture for the pro-
ducer. Mr. Phillips has escaped, for the most part, the pitfalls
which lay in the path of the nineteenth century poets, reveal-
ing the ability to create effective situations and to write verse
suited to the stage.

IRELAND

One of the results of the revival of interest in the Gaelic
language and folk lore was the opening, in Dublin in 1899, of
the Irish Literary Theater with a performance of The Countess
Cathleen by Mr. W. B. Yeats. The policy of this organization
was to give plays written by Irish dramatists upon national
themes, but with English actors. Besides Mr. Yeats, Messrs.
Edward Martyn, George Moore, and George Russell (A.E.)
were associated in the undertaking. After producing one piece
in Gaelic and six in English, the organization was discontinued.
In 1901 there was established the Irish National Theater,
whose policy differed from that of the earlier enterprise in one
important point: namely, Irish actors were to be assembled
and trained as a repertory company. The type of play, also,
was to be restricted to works dealing with Irish peasant life,
or with an imaginary world, with fairy stories, or with the
great heroes of the past.

From these beginnings developed the Abbey Theater and the
Irish Players, who, in a comparatively short time, gained con-
siderable fame both in Britain and in America. The success
of the movement was to a large extent due to the encourage-
ment, managerial ability and devotion of Mr. W. B. Yeats;
but working with him in close sympathy were also Lady Greg-
ory, John Synge, Padraic Colum and a few others. Mr. Yeats’
idea was to inaugurate a simple style of acting, in which words
should be of more importance than gesture, movement, or
scenery. Rhythmic and beautiful speech was to be cultivated,
the importance of minor parts emphasized, and simple but sug-
gestive settings used. Such ideas as these, almost unheard-of344 THE LAST FIFTY YEARS IN

in the ordinary commercial theaters of 1901, have in recent
years become the general property both of the “little” and the
commercial theaters all over the world.

William Butler Yeats, born in Dublin in 1865, has written
at least a dozen plays, nearly all of which are national in tone
and content, mystical, and deeply poetic. He has avoided the
stereotyped methods of obtaining stage effects, relying more
upon the essential value of the situation. His work has sin-
cerity and genuine beauty. The Countess Cathleen (1899),
The Land of Heart's Desire, and Cathleen ni Houlihan, the
best known of his plays, are all concerned with Celtic legends
and national glories. Like several other modern writers, in-
cluding Synge, Mr. Yeats has made a dramatic version of the
story of Deirdre, the Irish Helen.

Lady Augusta Gregory, born in Ireland in 1859, has been
until recently manager of the Abbey Theater and has had a
large share in the creation of a national drama. Her first liter-
ary work was the re-writing of many of the Celtic legends; and
it is upon the solid foundations of local character and folk lore
that her plays are built. She is at her best in the short comedy,
such as Spreading the News (1904), The Workhouse Ward
(1908), and Hyacinth Halvey (1906), which have won a wide
popularity. The Rising of the Moon (1907) has also been
much admired for its fine simple style, its kindliness of temper,
and its dramatic effectiveness. Besides writing more than a
score of original plays, Lady Gregory has translated for the
Irish stage pieces by Moliere, Goldoni, and Sudermann.

The greatest playwright of the Irish movement, and one of
the most distinguished dramatists of the past fifty years, was
John Millington Synge (1871-1909). He was born in Ireland,
led a sort of bohemian life in Paris, where he was discovered
by Mr. Yeats and urged to turn his attention to Irish subjects,
went to the Aran Islands for a considerable sojourn, and
finally achieved notable success in his delineations of Celtic
life and character. His plays were all written after 1903, and
each one is based on a native legend or a characteristic inci-
dent. The language used is a kind of enhanced local dialect,
picturesque and full of feeling. Mr. Ernest Boyd has re-ENGLAND AND IRELAND 345

marked upon the skill with which Synge depicted the vaga-
bond life of the roads, the amusing and colorful “blackguard-
ism and rowdyism” of the country tramp. His scenes combine
realism with sardonic humor and imaginative strength. The
humor or tragedy lies always in the situation and not merely
in the words. In the Shadow of the Glen shows the suspicious
husband of a young and comely wife testing her faithfulness
by pretending to be dead and watching how she carries on at
the wake. The Well of the Saints portrays an old blind man
and woman, each thinking the other fine and handsome as in
youth, and shows what happens when they had their sight re-
stored. The Playboy of the Western World (1907), an ex-
travaganza in which a bragging peasant boy is brought to book,
is perhaps Synge’s most famous example of half-cynical humor
and romantic fantasy; while Riders to the Sea illustrates his
ability to portray relentless tragedy in a manner that has often
been compared to the power of the Greeks. “The creator of
The Playboy was something more than an exponent of peasant
drama. . . . Synge transformed reality until the real and the
ideal were one. It is this imaginative re-creation which en-
titles him to a place amongst the great dramatists of the world’s
literature.” +

Other writers, most of whom are still living, have added to
the repertory of the Irish Theater: Lennox Robinson, the pres-
ent manager of the Abbey Theater, with The Cross Roads and
other plays; Seumas O’Kelly, with half a dozen pieces worthy
of attention; George Fitzmaurice, T. C. Murray, St. John
Ervine and others, some of whom have had productions in
London and New York. The most distinguished of the later
writers is probably Lord Dunsany, whose plays are enacted in
some unknown, half-oriental country, and whose characters
are neither Irish nor European but universal and typical. A
Night at an Inn, The Golden Doom, King Argimenes, and The
Queen’s Enemies are all singularly original in theme and treat-
ment, poetic in tone with realistic touches of character. The
Gods of the Mountain shows how seven beggars are induced
by their leader, a crafty rowdy, to impersonate the stone deities

1 Ernest A. Boyd, The Contemporary Drama of Ireland.346 ENGLAND AND IRELAND

who live on a distant hill, and who, according to the local be-
lief, should one day come to life and visit the city. The beg-
gars are successful in deceiving the people. They live on costly
food and rare wines; but their day of reckoning comes when
the real gods appear. It is a strikingly dramatic moment when
the impostors, hearing the tread of the coming gods, begin to
cower in their corners, and when at last each one in his own
niche is slowly turned to stone.

Of all the local movements of recent years in the drama,
none is more significant than that of the Irish stage, because
of its national spirit and the sincerity of its aims. Mr. Yeats
expressed as a prophecy what came to be recognized as a fact:
“This theater cannot but be more interesting to people of other
races because it is Irish, and, therefore, to some extent, stirred
by emotions and thoughts not hitherto expressed in dramatic
form.”.

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CHAPTER XXXVI
RUSSIA

We should not go to the theater as we go to a chemist’s or a
dram-shop, but as we go to a dinner, where the food we need is
taken with pleasure and excitement—JoHN MILLINGTON SYNGE.

Long previous to the nineteenth century there was undoubt-
edly in Russia a native dramatic art—puppet shows, farces,
and probably plays similar to the medieval mysteries; but so
far the European world knows little about it. In the eight-
eenth century Alexander Sumarokov (1718-1777) produced
both comedies and tragedies, the latter after the style of Racine
and Voltaire, though he used plots based on native material.
Sumarokov had numerous followers and disciples, among
whom was no less a personage than Catherine II (called the
Great), who wrote comedies in which she ridiculed the pom-
posities and hypocrisies of her courtiers. She even essayed
a drama in the romantic style; but in her time and for a gen-
eration after, the influence of the French was paramount.

Pseudo-classicism, however, could not forever hold the Rus-
sian spirit; and the first important native tragedy, Boris Godu-
nov, written in the third decade of the nineteenth century, was
boldly composed in imitation of Shakespeare. Its author was
Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837), who came from a wealthy,
land-owning family, was several times embroiled in political
difficulties, wrote an Ode to Liberty that was considered sedi-
tious, and was killed in a duel at the age of thirty-eight. Al-
though Pushkin’s work for the stage was but a minor part
of his output, yet it was sufficient to turn the attention of con-
temporary and succeeding writers to the history of their own
country. With his romantic treatment of national figures he
combined truthfulness of detail. ‘‘Naturalness of scene,” he

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wrote, “and naturalness of dialogue are the first principles of
all true tragedy.”

The dramatists of the middle years of the nineteenth century
seem quite consistently to have striven to understand and por-
tray the Russian character and the essential features of Russian
life, with its crumbling feudal system, its vast army of peas-
ants, its mysticism, its cruelty, and its enormous strength.
Their genius showed itself for the most part in comedy rather
than in tragedy. N. V. Gogol (1809-1852) has long been rec-
ognized as a humorist of the first rank. His comedy The In-
spector General (Revisor, 1836) is one of the few world-
famous pieces for the stage. The title of founder and creator
of modern Russian drama is sometimes given to A. N. Os-
trovsky (1823-1886), whose specialty was the portrayal of the
merchant class in provincial districts. Ostrovsky, like Gogol,
owes his fame to his power of shrewd observation and good-
natured satire. Some of his titles are Poverty is no Crime,
Bad Days, The Snow Maiden, and The Storm, the latter being
considered his best work.

An important contribution to the national stage was made by
the poet and dramatist Count Alexei Tolstoi (1817-1875),
whose best known work is a trilogy based on historical mate-
rial, The titles of the three plays are The Death of Ivan the
Terrible, Tsar Theodor, and Tsar Boris. These plays appeared
during the third decade of the nineteenth century and imme-
diately became an important feature of the national repertory.
They portray not only national figures, but also the conditions
attendant upon despotic power, with its abuse and its glory, re-
minding the spectator somewhat of the heroic spectacles of
Marlowe. Ivan Turgenev (1818-1883) produced a few dramas,
but his best known works were in the field of fiction rather
than for the stage.

After the tide of romanticism came to its height and passed,
that of realism had its hour. Count Lyoff Tolstoi (1828-
1910), better known as the writer of Anna Karenina and other
novels, was the author of several dramas full of grim detail
and pictures of suffering. The Powers of Darkness is a play
of unmitigated horror; nevertheless, when it was performedplay of

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in 1886, its effect was so great on the audience that after its
close students waited outside the theater to catch sight of the
author and to kiss his hand. Maxim Gorky (born 1868) has
made himself, in a sense, the voice of an immense class hith-
erto submerged, but with each succeeding decade growing more
and more articulate. Gorky’s stage world—composed of
thieves, prostitutes, and social outcasts of all kinds—is a half-
savage, brutal place in which gross, titanic figures strive to
make known their feelings and their dimly understood aspira-
tions. The Philistines (1902) and The Night Asylum (also
known as In the Depths, 1903) have been produced in many
places outside of Russia. Even darker still is the world pic-
tured by Leonid Andreyev (1871-1919), because for him there
seems to be no light, no solace, no escape from sin. Normal
desires were to him the clutch of the “abysmal brute,’ dragging
men down to death and perdition. Andreyev’s weakness as a
dramatist consists in the vagueness of his characters, which
are like the abstractions of a morality play. The Black Masks
(1908) symbolizes the darkness which surrounds every human
soul; the old question as to the meaning of life and its attendant
sorrows is the underlying theme of The Life of Man; while
King Hunger (1908) symbolizes the warfare between classes—
the age-long conflict between the workers and the spenders.
He Who Gets Slapped, a tragi-comedy based on the life of
a circus clown, has had marked success outside of Russia.
There is one quality of great worth in Andreyev: namely, his
willingness to fight for intellectual and social liberty.

The most important dramatist which Russia has so far pro-
duced is Anton Chekhov (1860-1904), a physician of Moscow
who left, besides many fine short stories, a few dramas which
are strikingly original. Chekhov combined a naturalistic
method with a philosophic mind and a humanitarian gentle-
ness of temper. At least four of his plays—The Sea Gull, The
Cherry Orchard, Uncle Vanya, and The Three Sisters—have
become widely known throughout Europe and America, par-
ticularly through the interpretation of the Moscow Art Theater
players. The Cherry Orchard is perhaps most typical both of
the author’s method and of his success in creating ““atmos-350 1 RUSSIA

phere.” The surviving members of an ancient land-holding
family come back from Paris to find that their country place is
about to be sold at auction for debts. A former peasant, now
a prosperous factory owner, offers to buy their famous cherry
orchard for a generous sum, and so save their fortunes; but
family pride and a general spirit of procrastination will not
permit them to trade with the social upstart. In their natures,
sorrow over trouble and levity over responsibilities are inex-
tricably mixed. They can take nothing seriously. They argue
and talk it all over in their own charming fashion until finally
the house is sold over their heads and the sound of the axe is
heard in the beloved orchard. When they leave, with charac-
teristic absent-mindedness they accidentally lock the faithful
old servant into the empty and abandoned house. That is all:
there is no struggle, nothing that could technically be called a
plot; yet on the stage the representation is full of suspense and
pathos. The author’s conception is intense, though detached.
There is no hint of social “problems” or blame for anybody or
any party,—only a tender, acute delineation of weak, delightful
people. Among the naturalists of the theater Chekhov and
Synge alone have been able to achieve the classic tragic note.
Their scenes rise out of human experiences, wherein love and
tenderness and family relationships have had their due meed.
Especially with Chekhov does one feel the presence of an un-
derstanding heart; nothing escapes his observation, yet all is
rendered with sympathy and pity.

The fluctuations of Russian life in the nineteenth century
were in many respects quite different from anything else in
Europe. It is now scarcely more than sixty-five years since
the abolition of the serf system, the result of which, long de-
layed, was the final dethronement of the landed aristocracy
and the inauguration of a new social organization. Within the
present century important revolutions have taken place; and
the writers of today are, little by little, interpreting the spirit
of the time. In the confusion and vagueness of much of the
teaching, two main themes are constantly seen to be uppermost:
individualism and religion. They preach the right of indi-
viduals to gratify personal desires, to take property or life, to>

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RUSSIA 351

rule others as they have been ruled, as long as power lasts.
With this rampant individualism came also a revision of the
code in sexual affairs and in family life,—a revision that has
threatened to sweep away all tradition. Furthermore, Russian
drama, like most of the modern Russian literature, reveals an
intense preoccupation with religion. Some of the writers, like
Andreyev, cried out that there is “no God, no consolation for
this dark horror which is life’; but such a cry is of itself
evidence of the search. There is a persistent mystical note,—
the note of a belief that this material world is only the vestibule
to another realm, and that poetry, art, and music can guide the
soul thither. Above all, it must not be thought that the Rus-
sian drama is dying or decadent: on the contrary, it is develop-
ing before our eyes, and so, in a special sense, should be re-
garded as holding the seeds of the future.ae

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CHAPTER XXXVII
DRAMA IN AMERICA

_ . real development is not leaving things behind, as on a road,
but drawing life from them, as from a root.—GILBERT CHESTER-
ton, All Things Considered.

The history of drama in America is naturally bound up with
that of England, owing partly to the use of a common language
and the existence of a noble tradition in the mother country.
The first play acted in America by a professional company is
said to have been The Recruiting Officer, by George Farquhar,
brought over from London in 1732. The visit of a company
of English actors in 1752 was of great importance in stimulat-
ing interest in dramatic productions; but it was not until 1766
that a permanent playhouse, the Old Southwark of Philadel-
phia, appeared in America. In 1767 the John Street Theater
was built in New York. According to Professor Arthur ie
Quinn, of the University of Pennsylvania, the first play written
by an American and performed by a professional company of
actors on an American stage was The Prince of Parthia, a
tragedy in blank verse by Thomas Godfrey (1736-1763), pro-
duced in 1767. In 1787 there was given a comedy called The
Contrast} by Royall Tyler (1757-1826), who later became
chief justice of the state of Vermont. The Contrast is in
prose, with a prologue and catchy songs, and introduces the
humorous figure of Jonathan, the clever Yankee.

Two years after the appearance of The Contrast, William
Dunlap (1766-1839), an American, came forward with a com-
edy called The Father; and later he wrote or adapted half-a-
hundred plays, among them a number from Kotzebue, Schiller,
and other German playwrights. Two of his own dramas are

1 Revived in 1912 in Brattleboro, Vermont, under the direction of Mrs.
Otis Skinner.

352DRAMA IN AMERICA 353

on themes from American history. In the prologue to André
there is a hint of the tone taken by a long procession of drama-
tists from Plautus down:

“She (the Muse) sings of wrongs long past. Men as they were
To instruct, without reproach, the Men that are;

Then judge the story by the genius shown,

And praise, or damn it, for its worth alone.”

Dunlap’s most important claim to gratitude, however, is not
primarily based on his dramas, but rather upon the fact that
he wrote a History of the Early American Theater, which was
published in 1832.

During the latter part of the nineteenth century various com-
panies of actors were organized, one of them for the express
purpose of giving plays “by Shakespeare and other well-estab-
lished authors.” The Park Theater in New York was opened
in 1798 with a performance of As You Like It; and it was at
this playhouse that John Howard Payne (1791-1852) made
his début as an actor in 1809 as Norval in John Home’s
Douglas. Although, in the grandiloquent fashion of the times,
Payne was later called “the American Roscius,” yet it is not
for his acting that he is remembered, but as the author of
Home, Sweet Home,—a lyric included in the opera Clari, or
The Maid of Milan, which appeared in 1824. The song is
supposed to have been written in Tunis, North Africa. Among
his contributions to the stage are more than fifty plays, one
of which was done in collaboration with Washington Irving.
Charles the Second is a comedy of manners; while his Brutus,
a tragedy in blank verse, is generally considered the first drama
of importance written by an American.

The early nineteenth century. In the meantime several play-
houses were built, stock companies were formed, and dis-
tinguished actors from England made profitable visits to
America. Edmund Kean came in 1820, his son Charles in
1830, MacCready in 1826, Junius Brutus Booth in 1821 and
in 1833, Charles and Fanny Kemble in 1832-33, and the elder
John Drew in 1845. The American actor Edwin Forrest made
his first appearance in 1826 as Othello, beginning a celebrated354 DRAMA IN AMERICA

career which continued for nearly fifty years. Two plays by
American authors, The Gladiator by R. N. Bird (1806-1854)
and Metamora by John A. Stone, were written for and success-
fully produced by Forrest. The Broker of Bogota, also by
Bird, first performed in 1834, was for more than thirty years
included in Forrest’s repertory. Bird’s specialty was romantic
tragedy in blank verse; but plays of other sorts, melodrama,
historical pieces, and studies of Indian life, were not wholly
lacking. Richard Penn Smith (1799-1854) had at least fifteen
plays performed, two of which were taken to London. A
prose drama called Pocahontas and the Settlers of Virginia, by
George Washington Parke Custis (1781-1857), was produced
in 1836 and had a “good” run of twelve nights. The poet
Nathaniel P. Willis (1806-1867) had the distinction of having
his comedy in verse, Tortesa the Usurer (1839), transferred to
London. Few of these plays seem much worth while; but the
same thing might be said of most other nineteenth-century
dramatic productions. On the whole, it would appear that the
American stage at this time was as creditable as that of any
country in Europe with the exception of France.

The mid-century. One of the landmarks in American drama
was the appearance of Fashion (1845) by Anna Cora Mowatt
Ritchie (1819-1870). It is a satire on the pretensions of a
newly-rich New York woman, who drags into her conversa-
tion badly pronounced French phrases, boasts of her elegant
European acquaintances, and is properly taken in by a slick
hair-dresser who passes himself off as a French count.? It was
highly successful, having the very unusual run of twenty-two
nights. Edgar Allan Poe, writing for The Broadway Journal,
called it a ‘‘very bad play,” objecting especially to the use of
asides. “Compared with the generality of modern drama,” he
wrote, “it is a good play ; compared with most American drama
it is a very good play; estimated by the natural principles of
dramatic art, it is altogether unworthy of notice.” Poe was
somewhat jaundiced; for Fashion certainly is far from being
contemptible. It is, moreover, the first successful instance of

2 Fashion was revived in 1924 by the Provincetown Players in New
York, when it ran for 235 performances.DRAMA IN AMERICA 355

a theatrical genre which belongs peculiarly to the American
stage—shrewd, good-natured ridicule, the latest examples of
which can be recognized in such plays as The Show-Off and
The First Year.

It was the mode in England, as we know, for distinguished
writers to try their hand at poetic drama; and we find in
America George H. Boker (1833-1890) making his version
of the oft-dramatized story of Francesca da Rimini. It was
in blank verse, was first performed in 1855, and has twice
been revived, once in 1882 by Lawrence Barrett, again in 1901
by Mr. Otis Skinner. Another and better known poet, Julia
Ward Howe, (1819-1910) wrote a tragedy entitled Leonora or
The World’s Own, which was first performed in 1857 and con-
sidered a fine achievement.

The second half of the century. One of the visiting actors
in the middle years of the century was Dion Boucicault (1822-
1890), an Irishman who, at the age of nineteen, had written a
successful comedy of society life called London Assurance.
After two visits to the United States Boucicault again re-
turned, founded a theater in Washington, and later the New
Park Theater in New York, in which city he lived until his
death in 1890. Authorities differ concerning the number of
his plays; but they must have amounted to more than a hun-
dred. Among them were such favorites as The Octoroon,
Streets o’ London, and the popular version of Rip van Winkle,
which had its first performance in London in 1865. The actor
Joseph Jefferson (1829-1905), who made the character of
Rip familiar to at least two generations of play-goers, was in
a way a link between the American stage and that of the
eighteenth century; since, as a child of three years, he took his
first role in a production of Sheridan’s Pizarro.

The conditions of the American theater did not offer much
encouragement to native playwrights, yet a few talented and
persistent writers devoted some of their time to it. James A.
Herne (1839-1901), an actor-manager, was successful with
American characters and scenes, and won an honorable place
in the dramatic history of his country. His first play, Hearts
of Oak, appeared in 1879; his last, Sag Harbor, in 1900. His356 DRAMA IN AMERICA

most popular piece, Shore Acres, had to wait almost ten years
for a production; though in time it was recognized as a sincere
and highly effective representation of American rural life.
Denman Thompson in The Old Homestead, William C. De-
Mille, and Steele Mackaye (1842-1894) are a few of the
writers who helped to establish a native tradition. Hazel Kirke
(1879), by Steele Mackaye, ran two years in New York, sent
ten companies on the road, and lasted thirty years on the
boards.

Bronson Howard (1842-1908) continued the use of native
subjects. Howard was born in Detroit and came to the craft
of the playwright via the columns of the New York Tribune
and the Evening Post. He produced many successful plays
during the last thirty years of the nineteenth century, includ-
ing Shenandoah, a Civil War drama, Saratoga, Young Mrs.
Winthrop, and The Henrietta. Though his plays now seem
to belong to rather a remote age, and, like Fashion, are full
of asides and soliloquies, yet in them there is a sound sense of
stage values and an honest attempt to avoid artificiality of
motive and emotion. Another successful playwright who came
to the theater by way of the newspaper office is Mr. Augustus
Thomas, born in St. Louis in 1859. His first play, Alabama
(1890) was, as its title indicates, a study in local character.
In Mizzoura and Arizona followed, then others, amounting to
more than sixty. In As a Man Thinks, Mr. Thomas drama-
tized a moral lesson; in The Witching Hour he performed the
difficult feat of using telepathy as an integral factor in his plot.
His pictures of local scenes, his characteristic humor, and his
sincerity in the treatment of national subjects have sufficed to
place Mr. Thomas at the head of the older school of American
dramatists.

At about the turn of the century, probably the most widely
known of American playwrights was Clyde Fitch (1865-1909),
whose work includes The Climbers, The Girl with the Green
Eyes, The Truth, The City, and many other titles. Huis very
first play, Beau Brummel (1890), with the title rdle enacted by
Richard Mansfield, was one of his greatest successes. He
wrote more than fifty original pieces, adapted at least a dozenDRAMA IN AMERICA 357

French comedies for use in English, and found a hearing not
only in America but also in England and France. With an
excellent theater sense, good discipline in stage-craft, and con-
stant industry in his chosen field, he made good use of the
principles of technique according to nineteenth-century-French
methods, and added measurably to the wealth of the American
stage. Still another writer who made use of European tech-
nique while dealing with American themes was Mr. William
Gillette, born in Hartford in 1855. Mr. Gillette has attained
fame both as an actor and playwright. His most popular
pieces were Held by the Enemy (1886) and Secret Service
(1896), both Civil War plays, and the dramatization of Dr.
Conan Doyle’s masterpiece, Sherfock Holmes (1899).

The Early Twentieth Century. Several writers who earlier
had attained distinction as poets also gained success on the
stage. One of these was William Vaughn Moody (1869-1910),
author of The Great Divide and The Faith Healer. The first
of these plays, performed in Chicago in 1906, with Miss Mar-
garet Anglin playing the principal woman rdéle, created some-
thing like a sensation because of its dramatic first act, which
portrays three men, in a Rocky Mountain mining camp, throw-
ing dice to decide which of them shall take possession of a
girl who has been stranded there. The need for a happy end-
ing, or at least for the conventional wedding ring and “arty”
bungalow, was too insistent then to allow the author to finish
the piece with full sincerity; nevertheless the drama has a
certain fine swing and bravado, especially in the early scenes.

When in 1910 the Shakespeare Memorial Theater in Strat-
ford was dedicated, the opening production was a prize play,
The Piper, by the American poet, Josephine Preston Peabody
Marks. The drama shows how, after the Piper has been
cheated by the burghers, he entices the children through a cave
into an enchanted land; and how in the end he restores them
to their homes. Other plays by Mrs. Marks are Marlowe and
The Wolf of Gubbio; but interesting as these dramas are, they
were not strong enough to break the spell which seems to ban
poetic drama from the modern stage. Poets such as Olive
Tilford Dargan, William Ellery Leonard, Ridgeley Torrence,

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and Edna St. Vincent Millay have gained, if not great popular
successes, at least appreciative audiences in many little theaters.

The poet Mr. Percy Mackaye (born 1875), a son of the
actor-manager Steele Mackaye, has experimented in many
forms. His Sappho and Phaon has an intricate plot with a
play within the play, and a Greek fable for its main subject. In
The Canterbury Pilgrims he has woven a pleasant story around
Chaucer’s famous characters. A Thousand Years Ago is a
romance of the Orient; while Mater and Anti-Matrimony are
social comedies of the present day. Jeanne d’Arc has had many
successful performances with Miss Julia Marlowe as the Maid.
One of the best of Mr. Mackaye’s works is The Scarecrow,
founded on a fantastic New England legend. It has a fresh,
vigorous theme, with opportunity for pathos, humor, irony ;
and as interpreted by Mr. Frank Reicher in the chief part it
was a remarkable exhibition of virtuosity as well as a welcome
change from the stereotyped creations of the stage. Mr. Mac-
kaye has also made important contributions to the art of
pageantry and to the production of outdoor masques.

Almost alone among writers for the stage stands Mr. Charles
Rann Kennedy, an Englishman who has for some years made
his home in New York, in that he has chosen in several cases
to treat religious subjects. Mr. Kennedy’s best known work,
The Servant in the House (1908) shows by a sort of allegory
the influence of the Man of Nazareth. The Terrible Meek
(1911) might be called a modern mystery portraying in a
very reverent manner the human side of the tragedy of the
Cross. In The Winter Feast and The Flower of the Palace
of Han the author has used respectively Scandinavian and
Chinese legends. In the latter play the climax turns upon the
sacrifice of the beloved wife in order to save the lives of the
people of the kingdom. In The Chastening (1927) Mr. Ken-
nedy has gone back to the life of Jesus for his theme. An-
other religious drama, The Fool, by Mr. Channing Pollock, is
concerned with the difficulties the sincere clergyman encounters
in carrying out the principles of love and forgiveness which he
is supposed to preach.

Plays satirizing smart society have not been very numerous ;DRAMA IN AMERICA 359

though The New York Idea (1909), by Mr. Langdon Mitchell,
was a success in that field, as were also many of the pieces by
Clyde Fitch. There have been serious pictures of social life,
such as The Easiest Way, Paid in Full, and Fine Feathers, all
by Eugene Walter; The Boss and Salvation Nell, by Edward
Sheldon; The Lion and the Mouse, by Charles Klein; and
Kindling, by Charles Kenyon. There are portrayals of the
conflict between the younger and the older generations, such as
The Goose Hangs High, by Louis Beach; plays founded on
the biography of celebrated people, like Georg Sand and
A Road House in Arden, by Philip Moeller; also studies of
racial difficulties, as in The Nigger by Edward Sheldon.
There have been odd but interesting and successful imitations,
or adaptations of ideas from oriental sources, as in Kismet,
by Edward Knoblaugh, and in The Vellow Jacket, by Hazel-
ton and Benrimo, played with skill by Mr. and Mrs. Charles
Coburn. Comedies by Jesse Lynch Williams, including Why
Marry? and Why Not?, while in no sense imitations of Mr.
Shaw, yet are in his vein, giving lively argumentative scenes
concerning a much-discussed subject. Plays dealing with geo-
graphical sections have been numerous: Desire Under the
Elms, by Mr. O’Neill; Hell Bent for Heaven, by Mr. Hatcher
Hughes; Sun Up, by Miss Lulu Vollmer; Icebound, by Mr.
Owen Davis; and This Fine Pretty World, by Mr. Mackaye.
Mrs. Mary Austin, in The Arrow Maker, has given a fine
study of one of the characteristic traditions of Indian life,—a
subject which so far has been too seldom used. Outward
Bound, by Mr. Sutton Vane, and On Trial, by Mr. Elmer
Reizenstein, have both introduced novel themes and an arrest-
ing situation.

Among successful women writers for the stage are Miss
Rachel Crothers, who has produced a long list of dramas deal-
ing with contemporary life and character. Some of her titles
are A Man’s World, Three of Us, Nice People, A Little
Journey, and, perhaps best of all, Expressing Willie. Zoé
Akins, in Declassée and The Moonflower, has gone abroad for
her atmosphere and has taken up again the theme of the dis-
credited woman in society. Susan Glaspell, with Inheritors,360 DRAMA IN AMERICA

Suppressed Desires, and The Verge, has portrayed local types
and situations in America with a sort of passionate concentra-
tion. Edith Ellis, Mary Austin, and Catherine Chisholm Cush-
ing are well known in the dramatic field.

Two types of comedy. Without undue splitting of hairs it
is perhaps possible, when looking back over a period of twenty-
five years, to distinguish roughly two types of comedy which
might be called, respectively, the comedy of the age of inno-
cence and cartoon comedy. Plays of the first class are con-
cerned, generally speaking, with pleasant people in more or less
luxurious homes, with butlers, limousines, and expensive daugh-
ters largely in evidence. The quality of humor in this kind of
play is flattering. If weaknesses are ridiculed, it is done with
a touch of indulgent admiration. In this class belong Clare
Kummer’s play of wealthy American life called A Successful
Calamity, Booth Tarkington’s Man from Home and Clarence,
and Not So Long Ago, by Arthur Richman.

Cartoon comedy, on the other hand, is apt to be concerned
with humbler classes of people, and it does not handle them
so indulgently. The satire, while still good-natured, has more
acidity and bite. Characterization is often exaggerated as in a
cartoon, but it is essentially truthful. The humor may be
boisterous and vulgar, yet it belongs fundamentally to the tra-
dition of Aristophanes, through Plautus and the medieval farce-
comedy. The American stage has been rather rich in this type,
with such old successes as The College Widow and The County
Chairman, by George Ade; The Chorus Lady, The Commuters,
and others, by James Forbes; the Potash and Perlmutter series,
Seven Days, up to such recent contributions as The Show-Off,
Love ’em and Leave ’em, and God Loves Us:

Eugene O’Neill. Born 1888. Among all these writers,
many of them with undisputed gifts, the outstanding figure at
the present time is Mr. Eugene O’Neill, the son of a popular
actor, who first appeared in New York as a member of the
Provincetown Players. In the ten years from 1915 to 1925,
if report be true, Mr. O’Neill wrote something like fifty
dramas, at least thirty-five of which have had some sort of
production. Several of them have traveled to England and theDRAMA IN AMERICA 361

continent. His first play was Bound East for Cardiff ; but it
was through the performance of Beyond the Horizon (1920)
that the attention of the public was first specially attracted to
him. Since that time the presentation of a new O’Neill play
has been considered by many theater-goers as the most impor-
tant event of the dramatic season. His subjects have been
widely diverse. In Desire Under the Elms he has given a pic-
ture of the morbid cravings of a lonely and aspiring soul, too
weak to attain his wish; in The Hairy Ape it is the confused
and fierce struggles of strength which is mal-adjusted to its
environment; in Anna Christie it is the story of a girl who
lives by the sale of her body; but the sentimental vapor with
which a Dumas would have enveloped his heroine has been
changed to a more bracing and cutting atmosphere. Probably
the most widely known of the O’Neill plays is The Emperor
Jones, a drama which is strikingly original both in theme and
treatment. Two comments on the work of Mr. O’Neill touch
the secret of his thought. Mr. Percy Boynton, in Some Con-
temporary Americans, writes: “In selecting material for these
plays, O’Neill has made no slightest concession to the popular
liking for glad and sunny stuff . . . he presents grim life in
a grim way. A play by O’Neill is the last possible resort for
the matinée girl or the tired business man. But O’Neill has
achieved his audience without regard to them. He deals with
fundamental human emotions and experiences, he presents con-
ditions faithfully, dodging none of the essential but unpleasant
facts, and beneath all he shows an admiration for and a faith
in the virtues of endurance and integrity.” And Mr. Thomas
H. Dickinson, in The Playwrights of the New American
Theater, has given this word: “If I regard O’Neill correctly,
he means that we all dream beyond our power, and that often
the bad men, the failures, are those who have dreamed most
bravely and most passionately.”

Conditions peculiar to America. Up to this point, scarcely
more than a century and a half of American drama has been
considered, and that but briefly; and it may be well to pause
for a moment to look at certain features which are or have been
peculiar to the art on this side of the ocean. In the early days,302 DRAMA IN AMERICA

of course, preoccupation with the practical difficulties of colo-
nial and pioneer life made any theater impossible; also, social
and recreational affairs were controlled for the most part by
religious bodies, such as the Puritans in New England and the
Society of Friends in Pennsylvania, which were officially op-
posed to theatrical entertainments. Later, when playhouses
were fairly numerous, even up to 1891, the absence of copy-
right laws made it cheaper for producers to import European
plays than to pay American writers for their work. During
the nineteenth century the most powerful managers in New
York, many of whom were of foreign birth, felt safer in
gambling on a European play that had had some success than
in taking a chance with an American product. The result was
that native plays, such as have been mentioned in this chapter,
were far outnumbered by adaptations, translations, and impor-
tations of all kinds.

This wholesale influx of foreign works would perhaps have
been a good thing, had the conditions been such as to allow
native playwrights to compete on equal terms, and if the im-
ported plays had been presented honestly and artistically. As
to the first point, it was manifestly impossible for American
writers to compete with a highly finished European product
which cost its purveyors little or nothing to import; and, re-
garding the second point, the plays, after they reached America,
were often so manhandled and maltreated as to be unrecog-
nizable as works of art at all. Managers, going to England for
their wares, returned and gave to the public New York adap-
tations of London adaptations of Parisian or Viennese pro-
ductions.? In addition to these drawbacks, actors of distinction
were often content to repeat for many seasons their old suc-
cesses. New York, now the center of theatrical production,
has for half a century had a majority of foreigners in its popu-
lation; and it has naturally been a bit cold to plays which did
not bear the European stamp. Again, the art of acting has
been largely left, until very recent days, to a hit-or-miss sys-
tem, with few schools for training. Furthermore, nowhere in

8 Of course this process of adaptation of European plays was exten-
sively carried on in many countries other than America.DRAMA IN AMERICA 363

the country were there any municipal or state-endowed theaters
such as have for many years existed in most European coun-
tries.

The miracle is that, in these circumstances, there was any
native drama at all, and all the more honor to such writers as
Herne, Mackaye, Howard and Mr. Thomas. That there was
life in the American stage has of recent years been abundantly
proved: first, because it has refused to assimilate any of the
various schools, such as naturalism, verism, expressionism, and
the like, which were obviously alien and would always have
remained so; and, secondly, because with the early years of
the present century it appears to have entered upon a genuinely
creative period.

One of the first signs of renewed life was the growth of
more or less independent “little theater” groups, which seemed
to spring up almost simultaneously in different parts of the
country. Before 1910 there were the Washington Square
Players, the Provincetown Players, the Neighborhood Play-
house, and several studio groups in New York; there were
‘Peoples’ Theaters” in North Carolina, North Dakota, Indian-
apolis, Los Angeles, Northampton, and elsewhere. The New
Theater in New York (1909-1911) was not permanently suc-
cessful; but later organizations have profited by the experience
of its sponsors. Today the Theater Guild, depending for its
resources mainly upon the annually renewed subscriptions of
its clientele, has made interesting and daring experiments. The
little theater groups have already produced distinguished play-
wrights ; and foreign plays, while still eagerly sought and often
enthusiastically received, are given as nearly as possible in
their original setting and form.

Another proof of life in the American stage is the wide
variety of subjects which find a welcome. The innumerable
plays disporting sex and the English tea-table, which for some
decades seemed to overwhelm it, are now giving place to pic-
tures of the West and South, of different classes of society, of
rural and small-town life, of Indians and their customs. Much
of this product is ephemeral and superficial, to be sure; but
those are qualities which apply to the great majority of plays

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everywhere. Many of the American pieces are written with
keen observation and personal knowledge; and many of the
playwrights who have already helped to produce what may
fairly be called a national drama are still young and have not
yet come to the height of their achievement. The wide di-
versity of subject and method, the use of local characters, and
the discovery of dramatic material in American conditions and
history,—these things are symptoms of health.ee - nee a
Or oe = ae eee

CHAPTER XXXVIII
LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA

The changes that can be traced in literary history are changes,
not of poetry and its kinds, but of spiritual ideals —Joun Ersxine,
The Kinds of Poetry.

An impulse towards greater sincerity and strength on the
stage, like a searching wind, followed everywhere in the wake
of the Ibsen dramaturgy; and in the hurricane many flimsy
or decaying accretions were swept away. The theater in every
country was liberalized as to technique and conventions, and
elevated in content and purpose. At this later date it seems
that the work of many interesting modern playwrights—Shaw,
Barker, Sudermann, O’Neill, and others—would have been im-
possible without this preliminary liberalizing force. The cul-
minating excellence in drama of the realistic style was perhaps
best illustrated in Russia in the combined work of Chekhov, as
dramatist, and Stanislavsky, director of the Moscow Art Thea-
ter. This organization was preéminent for its conscientious
attention to detail, for its smoothly articulated ensemble, and
for its emphasis on the content of the play rather than upon
any single actor or sensational scene. Everything done on the
stage seemed “natural” and spontaneous; and, analogous to
this carefully realistic setting were the dramas of Chekhov,
which called for just such interpretation.

The impulse toward realism and truth, however, like every
vigorous movement, brought on certain excesses: too much
photographic detail in accessories, and a tendency toward the
undue celebration of dull and insignificant affairs. It is no
great feat for many play-goers of today to remember the time
when the most successful “show” of the season seemed always
to be the one which had the greatest number of genuine articles
on display, such as sterling silver trophy cups, real books in

365306 LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA

the bookcase, or real tea for the afternoon ritual. Along with
this realism in stage properties there was also an overwhelming
tendency towards small-town and small-life subjects. Whether
it were The Truth, Bunty Pulls the Strings, or Business is
Business, the skill of the author was shown in the choice of
everyday incidents, in depicting petty details, and in the glorifi-
cation of the commonplace.

Revolt against realism in stage settings. Protests against
this sort of thing came from two groups: artists who turned
their attention to stage designs of more intrinsic value, and
Little Theater managers who were forced to utilize small
quarters and to avoid large financial outlay. These groups
were united in the desire for more artistic stage effects; and
the theater-loving world suddenly woke up to the fact that
beauty of design, suggestiveness, and simplicity of impression
on the boards are of more value than many silver trappings.
Artists and producers, such as Max Reinhardt, Gordon Craig,
R. E. Jones, Lee Simonson and others devised simple sets in
which massed color and architectural lines offered picturesque
and suggestive backgrounds. They prepared “unit” sets con-
sisting perhaps of two pillars, an arch, and a shallow flight of
steps, fashioned with movable parts so they could be made to
represent several different scenes according to need. In the
meantime the Little Theater managers had come to a similar
result by a different route. The theory of the Little Theater
was: better a bare stage than a clutter; and the frequent
meagerness of financial backing was not always a hardship, for
with simple means they often achieved beauty.

Naturally, the changes in stage accoutrements and in the
style of acting did not stop with the achievement of simplicity.
The needs of the new schools—expressionism, the grotesque,
modernism, and the like—brought with them new and some-
times fantastic conceptions. Back scenes became cubistic de-
signs, the gestures of the actors became rhythmical, angular,
and statuesque, while the speech, formerly required to be natu-
ral and unaffected, was changed into staccato, artificial tones.
One idea was to make the actor as nearly anonymous as pos-
sible; and Mr. Gordon Craig has gone so far as to advocateLATEST PHASES OF DRAMA 367

the abolition of living actors, thus making the presentation in-
dependent of the personal equation.

Revolt against realism in subject. The reaction against com-
monplace ideas and scenes in the drama itself, like the revolt
against photographic accuracy in the stage picture, was not a
national but a European affair, common to Germany, Italy,
Russia, France, Spain and England; and of course the reaction
also to some extent affected the American stage. The “move-
ments,’ however, had certain national peculiarities and went by
different names,—‘‘expressionism” in Germany, the “grotesque”
in Italy, “modernism” in Spain; and everywhere the reaction
was closely allied with futurism and cubism in other arts.
While differing in detail, these movements were all concerned
with the one business of getting rid of reality, of escaping from
the obvious and the natural, into the conventional, the stylistic
and the unreal. The disciple of expressionism asks: why
should not the spectators be included in the play? why should
there always be three acts, or four? why not give Shakespeare
in one act? why should one consider the death of a more-or-
less important man tragic? why, in short, follow all the old
conventions which have been worn out?

These ideas, and similar ones, were illustrated by various
playwrights, such as the Capeks, in R.U.R. and The Insect
Play; by Georg Kaiser in Gas I and Gas II; by Ernst Toller
in Massenmensch; and by the American Elmer Rice in The
Adding Machine. In the latter play, when Mr. Zero, put out
of his accountant’s job by the machine, murders his employer,
the fact of the murder is conveyed to the audience by splashes
of red suddenly appearing on the back-drop. In Massen-
mensch the purpose seems to be to dramatize the whole com-
munity, personalizing the force which makes men what they
are. In Gas I the characters are more or less abstract figures:
the Billionaire’s son, who seems to symbolize the Idealist ; the
Gentleman in White, who personifies Terror; and the Gentle-
man in Black, who is Capital. The scene is a factory for
making gas; and the action turns upon the impotence and in-
significance of the Idealist in the face of the power which he
generates in his factory. To the adherents of expressionism368 LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA

character is not the chief interest, but the expression of a
mood; the ideal of beauty, instead of being a glorious sunset,
a picture, a statue, a cathedral, or a symphony, is a racing
automobile—symbol of energy and power.

In Italy the decadent romanticism illustrated by the D’An-
nunzio tradition was replaced by a movement similar to ex-
pressionism, with the additional touch of the grotesque—some-
thing analogous to the gargoyle in architecture. Furthermore,
in Italy as elsewhere, radical ideas concerning the stage were
accompanied by “futurism.” The futurist believes in repudi-
ating the past, with its ideals, morals, religion, history and
faith. Make a jest of the sorrows of life. Turn topsy-turvy
our customs and our “sacred” institutions, especially our rules
of art, and invent something new.

In Russia one of the innovators was M. Tairov, manager of
the Kamerny Theater, which opened in 1914. The purpose of
the Kamerny players was that “the absolute essence of the
play should be expressed; that all on the stage should conform
to the new principle of construction; and that the acting should
be freed from the natural and all signs of improvisation.” On
the stage of the Kamerny Theater, as on certain other Euro-
pean stages of radical tendency, the speech was highly conven-
tionalized, and the scenery as far as possible from the appear-
ance of actual life. The Russian stage, however, has not been
left wholly to the experimentalists. Since the revolution the
theaters have largely been nationalized,—that is, taken over by
the workmen, the soldiers, and the peasant class; and in these
theaters the modern schools have had very little foothold. A
strict censorship has been established, and extreme or risqué
pieces of every sort have been forbidden. Instead, there are
regular performances of the plays of Schiller, Goldoni, Lope
de Vega, and Shakespeare.

Benevente, one of the leading playwrights of modern Spain,
does not indulge in radical experiments. Though he brings to
the stage a fresh outlook and a modern philosophy of life, yet
for the most part his plays are built upon solid nineteenth-
century technique. The Quintero brothers represent the newer
school, in that they have dispensed with some of the time-Cee eee e— pO I
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LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA 369

honored theatrical conventions; but both modernism and
futurism on the Spanish stage seem at the present moment
to be of far less interest than poetic drama.

Change of conditions in America. Though expressionistic
plays have been written by American authors, and though
futuristic settings have frequently been seen, yet it is impos-
sible to identify any one of the movements described above
with the American stage. Radical experiments have been made,
revised, and abandoned,—and all, no doubt, to the future ad-
vantage of the art. Not one of the European growths has
taken root; and this is as it should be. The American drama
is drawing life from conditions peculiar to itself; and its plot
material, its pictures of life, its implied philosophy, to be
healthy and sincere, must evolve from the national melting-
pot. The economic condition of the stage, however, has con-
spicuously improved. Although there is still no direct support
from the government, yet in the past twenty years there has
been a practical subsidizing of many groups of players. Pri-
vate individuals have supplied well-equipped playhouses rent-
free, and have in some cases supplemented this gift with sub-
stantial financial support. In various cities and towns certain
theaters have been exempted from taxation; and a surprising
number of schools of play-writing, acting, and practice pro-
duction have come into existence. Chicago, St. Louis, and other
cities have Civic theaters; Northampton, Ripon, Columbia and
other towns have their own theaters, often with schools for
playwriting and acting, and their own companies which go on
tour at least within the boundaries of their own state; and
North Carolina has made a state appropriation in support of
its theater.

Drama in colleges and universities. It has long been a tra-
dition for the college and the university to foster the theater:
nevertheless, at the beginning of the present century it was
rather a novelty when Harvard, Columbia, or the University of
Pennsylvania staged a performance of a Greek play during
Commencement Week. Today university productions are a
matter of course. More time is given to the study of existing
drama ; and classes in the history of the play and in the tech-370 LATEST PHASES OF DRAMA

nique of play-writing are included in literary courses in col-
leges large and small. Among the first college teachers to
recognize the value of dramatic courses were Professor George
Pierce Baker of Yale (formerly of Harvard), and Professor
Emeritus Brander Matthews of Columbia, both of whom have
already exerted great influence on American drama. Most of
the larger colleges and state universities are sponsors for thea-
ter groups, supplying a practical workshop for study and pro-
duction. It needs only a glance backward to the history of the
Elizabethan stage to show how quickly and how generously
such efforts contribute to the professional field.

Most plays necessarily ephemeral. In considering the great
number of plays evolved during the long course of the drama,
one must inevitably come to the conclusion that it is the very
nature of the play to be ephemeral: and that it is only by the
rarest combination of qualities that any play takes an important
place in permanent literature. Motives of action, the things
people laugh or cry over, range all the way from the extremely
superficial and local to the deep and universal passions. Drama
deals with them all, but mostly with the less profound. It is
somewhat unreasonable to ask that a dramatist shall write with
his eye on the next generation; and the lover of the theater
has rightly been content if the dramatist has revealed with
humor, intensity, or irony the human situation as he has seen
it. The stage is naturally conservative, persisting in showing
stock figures and stock situations long after they have ceased
to be found in real life; and playwrights are constantly tempted
to depend on them, instead of thinking and observing for them-
selves. Such playwrights have fallen into a quick oblivion;
and when, with increasing years, any particular type has be-
come too dull to be endured, there rise inevitably the so-called
reformers to refresh and rejuvenate the stage. Keen observa-
tion and sympathetic revelation of genuine character, even
without much technical skill, will often lift the degraded art
back again into popularity.

Whenever the germinating forces are vigorous, there may be
some things that are undesirable; and so it happens that what
are called new movements are often associated with lapsesei ey

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from delicacy. Looking back for a few centuries, however, it
is evident that the stage has become increasingly decent. Con-
sidering English plays alone, one can note that many pieces
which were applauded in London during the Restoration, and
long afterward, could not now be given even in the most toler-
ant cities of the civilized world.

Monsieur Stanislavsky in his memoirs relates how once every
year his theater in Moscow was visited by a young peasant who
came to the city for that express purpose and remained long
enough to see all the offerings of the season. “Having seen
our entire repertory, he folded his silk shirt, his velvet trousers
and his boots, tied them in a bundle and returned to his home
for the ensuing year. From there he would write numerous
philosophical letters which helped him to digest and continue to
live over the store of impressions which he had brought home
with him from Moscow.”

Aside from the applause in the theater itself, what more
subtle and delightful mark of appreciation could be imagined ?ey ey er+

enacted ntdedineant et aerial bi lie ene era ee hee

7 manne yg oh

A BRIEF READING LIST FOR STUDENTS OF THE
DRAMA

Since it is obviously more convenient for most American readers
to obtain books in English, the following reading list has, with
one exception, been limited to books in English, either original or
in translation.

AST GueIn Williams «0c ja English Dramatists of Today

Archers \Wailliam) (oj. ne Playmaking

ASTIStOLIE: = weeceiesie tie 4 « ckevoes .The Art of Poetry

Baker, George Pierce ...... Dramatic Technique

Baring, Maurice ..... ......Landmarks in Russian Literature

Byorkman? Hidwine 2 6-16. Voices of Tomorrow

Byorkman, Pidwint s..20- 4c. Introduction to the English transla-
tion of Strindberg’s plays

Bods bs Sese. ace ae Shakespeare and His Predecessors in
the English Drama

Boyds Ernest. csc stare oe The Irish Literary Movement

Boyd Ernest 9s vad nonce The Contemporary Drama of Ireland

Brandes, George ..........Main Currents in Nineteenth Century
Literature

STAM Cy ME. Me ysis «o srotrecee Japan, Its History, Art, and Litera-
ture

Brooke.Gi PF. Duckers: .coa- The Tudor Drama

BLOOKeWINUDECTE .. eis hope occ cies John Webster and the English Drama

Burtornelwichard: << <jcraeracrere The New American Drama

Butcher gris. =< c aces vo sey Aspects of Greek Drama

Campbells Fs. ans ee Tragic Drama in A‘schylus, Soph-
ocles and Shakespeare

Ghamberlainy see: 4: 3s. ee Classical Poetry of the Japanese

@Ghambers 3 Haehs. 04 cc. ces The Medieval Stage, 2 vols.

Ghestertony.GiKe 5 oun George Bernard Shaw

Clarke Barrette a cciy. <4 oct Continental Dramatists of Today

Clark, Barrett ............A Story of the Modern Drama
373374 A BRIEF READING LIST

Glarks sBAanreee waemcie testers European Theories of the Drama: an
anthology from Aristotle to the
present day

Colliery ee i Fe cones we History of English Dramatic Poetry,
3 vols.

CourtHeys We le. ce: ens care The Idea of Tragedy in Ancient and
Modern Drama

Greizenach ss Ws ai. sierecinieje ch History of Modern Drama

Gruttwell G9 1s bic ce cece History of Roman Literature

Gumliies Je Wires ente. « The Influence of Seneca on Eliza-
bethan Tragedy

OU Se ee etre cs Creole te icleis Roman Society in the Last Days of
the Western Empire

Donaldsontwl: Wines - The Theater of the Greeks

DOrAT ed Gian as ciclec ss siete es Their Majesties’ Servants: annals of
the English Stage, 3 vols.

bye eaky Ol @zodden sneer Essay of Dramatic Poesy

Dut). Wright ...........A Literary History, of Rome

Dukes, Ashley ............. Modern Dramatists

Brskine, SOU 6 ne ase 5s cos The Kinds of Poetry

PUPA eis ic mc rs cic te ck nee The Modern French Drama

EAE e Cr. ic cic occ oe ayes Cod A Chronicle History of the London
Stage, 1559-1642

Blickinwer, Koy. H. .......- The Greek Theater and Its Drama

RASC Tame ie oi (ois hc) ais 0 o.sces oe The Golden Bough

PrevyiamaGlistay .........- The Technique of the Drama

Gaspanyeao eis. 50s History of Early Italian Literature

(GENCStR Et ce ccc sso ce « Some Account of the English Stage
from 1660-1830

Gilesretas Peps cose ee ss History of Chinese Literature

Gobineau (County. ..).-..... Les Religions et les philosophies dans

Vv Asie central
Gregory, Lady Augusta ....Our Irish Theater

GTOSSE, 5 ee erie sic se. 6 1 The Beginnings of Art
Rarch an: Ee preci ek «<i> 6, » The Attic Theater
Pai ODAC doar wc oe The Tragic Drama of the Greeks

Piles Er) re ees ce sictee «© Dramatists of TodayA BRIEF

Havemeyer, Loomis .......
Pla wkinswrle: os vs aioe dolores

RGrieaide ZOCH cals i cacsade
Mees Site Sidney «,. 0... ss. 0

Lessing, Gotthold E. ......
Teessinoy OMe Py eyo... «: «1 «)sfexcveys

ewese Gis bite. acd. 6s vas
WOW ei RG Wigictl en cielcc cis oles

MacCurdy, Grace s.. oa<ee ae
Miacdoriell: “Aue Ae eo oo.
Macgowan, Kenneth ......
Miackail sa); Wis waaes teciact
Mackenzie “A. Ss cece se cee
Miantzius: Karlee. 4s eee

Matthews, J. Brander ......
Matthews, J. Brander ......

Matthews, J. Brander ......
BiavOtea |e biel. cicievenccciee
Moderwell, Hiram ........
Moore: George wc cncesme
Moses» Montrose. .....i5.. 200.
Moultonehe. Gs 3. sa. cea
Mitrrrays Gilbert: 3.2... «si sv
Murray, Gilberto 3. ce. «cess

Neilson and Thorndike .

Bhelps) (William) les) se nce
Pollard A. “Whee fe 205.5 hee

Price. Wi * Trin aie dee

a me

READING LIST 375

The Drama of Savage Peoples
Annals of the Stage

Greek Literature
Kabuki

Great Englishmen of the Sixteenth
Century

Hamburg Dramaturgy

Masters of Modern German Litera-
ture

The Spanish Drama

Bibliographical Account of English
Dramatic Literature (1888)

Euripides

A History of Sanskrit Literature
The Theater of Tomorrow
History of Latin Literature

The Evolution of Literature

cient and Modern Times, 5 vols.
The Development of the Drama
French Dramatists of the Nineteenth
Century
The Life of Moliére
Biographical Clue to Latin Literature
The Theater of Today
Hail and Farewell
The American Drama
The Ancient Classical Drama
History of Ancient Greek Literature
Euripides and His Age

..Facts About Shakespeare

Essays on Modern Dramatists

English Miracle Plays, Moralities and
Interludes

Analysis of Play Construction and
Dramatic Principles

ee
a

~ tne temnnyhtnape ead

|
}376 A BRIEF READING LIST

RobertS0nm . #. vets ccs wes de Elizabethan Literature

Ruhl, Arthur <.sivss-0).¢ .. Second Nights

Schelling any Bat nee = English Drama

Schelliny: ho. ce. <-). ie Elizabethan Drama

Schlegel, A. W. von ....... Dramatic Art and Literature

Seccombe: ........--s--0cne The Age of Shakespeare

Sellar aye Ne dee sisce > es Roman Poets of the Republic and
Poets of the Augustan Age

Shaw, George Bernard ....The Quintessence of Ibsen

Shaw, George Bernard ....Dramatic Opinions and Essays

Shaw, George Bernard ....Preface to Three Plays by Brieux

SHORING NS 6 ak.oS GA ee Naturalism in Recent German Litera-
ture

SOpeES es er ici ciclo > = vie The Plays of Old Japan

Symonds, J. Addington ....Predecessors of Shakspere in the
English Drama

Symonds, J. Addington ....The Renaissance in Italy

Symons, Arthur .........- Plays, Acting, and Music

Symons, Arthur .......... The Symbolist Movement in Litera-
ture

Thaler, Alwin ..........-- Shakespeare to Sheridan

TH @toaA 105 4 aq agnoaedano. Maurice Maeterlinck

Thorndike, Ashley ........ Tragedy

Thorndike, Ashley ........ Literature in a Changing Age

SN COTM ieee e s eres + o> History of Spanish Literature, 2 vols.

Toulmin-Smith ...........- York Plays

USpreall, iy MG ieeapomoocds Lectures on Latin Poetry

Vaughn, (CE. .......s--- Types of Tragic Drama

Waley, Arthur ............ The No Plays of Japan

Walkley, A. B. ...........- Drama and Life

Ward, A aWaaseneciss. is History, ot English Dramatic Lit-

erature to the Death of Queen
Anne, 3 vols.

Wraitkow sic G: eect ic cess The German Drama of the Nineteenth
Century
Walsony Tasublce enc cctes- o's - Select Specimens of the Theater of

the HindusJ

ee ans hegenygiolle

A BRIEF READING LIST 377
Withington, Robert ........ English Pageantry: an Historical |
Outline, 2 vols.
Woodbridge, Elizabeth ..... The Drama, Its Laws and Technique
Vivian, IS oopaeboononunes Early Mysteries and Other Latin
Poems of the 12th and 13th cen-
turies
Yeats, William B...........Synge and the Ireland of His Time

The Cutting of an AgateDRAMA CHART I
Eighth Century B.C. to End of Fourth Century A.D.

CHINA INDIA GREECE ROME SYRIA

Job
Cir. 722
Se > >

500 ZEschylus

Sophocles

~~ Euripides

Aristophanes
Dramatic

Religious Menander
Dialogues

Terence
Plautus

and
Pantomimic
|

Imitative
ances
Dances
Birth

Christ Seneca
A.D.

The Toy
Cart

St. Gregory
NazianzenDRAMA

er erctieannta dh icicnesehtheindadedeneinaseabeeaiabieieaet ie

CHART II

Beginning Fifth Century A. D. to End of Fifteenth Century A.D.

DATE

Ae EUROPE CHINA JAPAN INDIA
401
Kalidasa
(3 plays ex-
tant)
500 (Sakuntala)
VA Important Period
600 Plays about gods
and national he-
roes
King Harsha
(3 plays)
700
Bhavabuti
(3 plays ex-
tant)
The Pear
800 Garden
c 5
2
S .
- S Chinese
om Hroswitha panes acts be influence
Beginning of sa- PP & The Great Nataka
cred drama (un- 2 (14 acts) from
written) x Rama cycle
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1100 Oldest French dynasties ©
Mystery soon Daye 5 Rise of the Moon
: oe of Knowledge
z (an Indian mo-
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catia Rutebeuf Tchao ~
bre x725 s
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CHART III

DRAMA

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_ -A SUPPLEMENT

containing the names of important playwrights in Europe,
America, and the Orient, with dates and representative plays;
also notes as to the Cycles, manuscripts, etc., of the Middle
Ages, and the building of the early English theaters.

Although the lists are far from being complete, yet an effort
has been made to include those plays which have excited spe-
cial interest on account of their novelty, timeliness, or genuine
value.

GREEK WRITERS BEFORE AZSCHYLUS

TuHEsPIs (legendary) :
Born about the beginning of the 6th century at Icaria;
began to exhibit tragedies as early as 560 B.c.;
took part in the public contests at Athens in 534 B.c.

CHERILUS:
Began to produce plays about 523 B.c.;
wrote at least 160 plays;
won 13 victories in the contests;
no plays extant.

PRATINAS:
Died sometime before 467 B.c.;
competed against A‘schylus in 499 B.c.;
said to have invented the satyric drama;
won the prize only once;
no plays extant.

PHRYNICUS:
Dates unknown;
won the first prize in tragedy 511 B.c.;
a few fragments extant.
381

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;382 A SUPPLEMENT

GREECE

ZESCHYLUS:
Born 525 B.c.; died 456 B.C.;
wrote at least ninety plays;
won 13 victories, the first being in 484 B.c.;
defeated by Sophocles in 468 B.c.;
sixty certain titles known, twelve doubtful;
seven plays extant.

The seven surviving plays, in the probable order of their
composition, are:
The Suppliants
The Persians, exhibited in 472 B.c.
The Seven Against Thebes, exhibited in 467 B.c.
Prometheus Bound
Agamemnon
The Libation Pourers (Choephort)
The Benign Ones (Eumenides)

(The last three comprise The Orestean Trilogy.)

SOPHOCLES:

Born 495, died 406-5 B.c.;

won his first victory 468 B.c. against A¢schylus ;

wrote at least 110 plays;

won 18 victories at the City Dionysia, and probably as many at

lesser contests;

seven plays extant, in their probable chronology as follows:
Antigone
Ajax
The Maidens of Trachis (Trachime)
Electra
CEdipus the King
Philoctetes (produced 409 B.C.)
CEdipus at Colonos-¢
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GREECE 383

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EURIPIDES:
Born 485 or 480, died 406 B.c.;
began to write tragedies at the age of eighteen;
won third prize in the competitions in 455 B.c.;
won the first prize in 441 B.c.;
composed more than ninety plays;
won the prize four times during life, once after death;
died at the court of Archelaus in Macedonia;
composed one of the two satyr plays which have survived
(Cyclops) ;
there are 18 accepted plays extant (Rhesus, not accepted by
modern scholars, was also formerly attributed to him) ;
of the surviving plays, eight were selected for reading in the
schools, and are enriched with the commentaries of ancient
grammarians, called scholia. These eight are:
Hecuba
Orestes
The Phcenician Women
Andromache
Medea
Hippolytus
Alcestis
The Trojan Women

The ten other surviving plays, without scholia, are:
Iphigenia in Tauris
Iphigenia at Aulis
The Suppliants
Ton
The Bacchantes
Cyclops
The Children of Hercules
‘Helena
The Mad Hercules
Electra384 A SUPPLEMENT

OLD COMEDY
CRATINAS:
Flourished about 450-422 B.c.;
called the inventor of Old Comedy;
entered the competitions 21 times;
won the prize nine times, once over Aristophanes ;
no complete plays extant, only some titles and fragments,

CRATES:
About 499-425 B.C. ;
was both actor and playwright;
no extant play.

EvupOo_is:
Said to have collaborated with Aristophanes in The Knights;
no extant play.

ARISTOPHANES:

Born about 446 or 450, died about 380 B.c.;

40 certain titles known;

I1 plays extant, all except the Plutus generally classed with Old

Comedy.

The plays are:
The Acharnians
The Knights
The Clouds
The Wasps
Peace
The Birds
Lysistrata
Women at the Thesmophoria (Thesmophoriazus@)
Plutus
The Frogs
Women in Council (Ecclesiazuse)

MIDDLE COMEDY

In addition to the Plutus of Aristophanes, there are the names
of 37 playwrights, among them

Eubulus

Antiphanes

Alexis

Hegemon (whose play, “The Battle of the Giants,” was
being given on the day the news was brought of the de-
struction of the Sicilian fleet, in 413).ROME 385

NEW COMEDY
PHILEMON:
Flourished from 330 B.c.

MENANDER:
About 342-291 B.c.

DIPHILUS:
Contemporary of Menander.

PoSIDIPPUS:
About 280 B.c.

RHINTHON OF TARENTUM:
About 300 B.c.

ARISTOTLE, 384-322 B.C.:
A native of Stagyra; critic and first teacher of dramatic prin-
ciples.

ROME
Five early Latin playwrights:

Livius Anpronicus. First Latin play presented 240 B.C.

N2vIvs, about 235 B.c.

ENNIUS, 239-169 B.c. Wrote 20 tragedies, large fragments pre-
served.

PACUVIUS, 220-130 B.c. Wrote 12 tragedies, one pretexta.

AtTius, or Accrius, died 94 B.c. Wrote 37 tragedies, fragments
extant.

Titus Maccius PLautus, 254-184 B.c.
Most scholars recognize 20 extant plays, of, which the most cele-
brated are:
Amphitryon (Amphitruo), a tragi-comedy
The Pot of Gold (Aulularia)
The Two Bacchuses (Bacchide)
The Captives (Captivt)
The Twins (Menoechmi)
The Haunted House (Mostellaria)
The Bragging Soldier (Miles Gloriosus)
The Cable (Rudens)
The Threepenny Bit (Trinummus)
The Comedy of Asses (Asinaria)
The Travelling Trunk (Cistellaria.)386 A SUPPLEMENT

PusLius TERENTIUS AFER, 193-158 B.C.
Six plays extant, as follows:
The Girl of Andros (Andria)
The Mother-in-law (Hecyra)
The Self-Tormentor (Heauton Timorumenos)
The Eunuch (Eunuchus)
Phormio

The Brothers (Adelphi)

Lucius ANNZUS SENECA, 3 B.C.-65 A.D.
Eight complete tragedies extant, and two fragments of tragedies;
also one pretexta (authenticity questioned )
The eight complete plays are:
The Mad Hercules (Hercules Furens)
Thyestes
Phedra (same story as the Hippolytus)
Qdipus
The Trojan Women (Troades)
Medea
Agamemnon
Hercules upon Mount CEta

THE ORIENT

DRAMA OF INDIA:
First period: development previous to 400 B.c.
Bhasa, or Phrata, playwright and critic, formulated rules for
the art; left thirteen plays, which are known and published.
Sudraka, a ruler to whom is attributed the play called, The
Toy Cart (also called The Little Clay Cart).

Second period: from 400 to 900 A.D.

Kalidasa, probably about 400 a.p.; best known Indian play,
Sakuntala, translated into English in the eighteenth century.
Two other plays survive.

Bhavabuti, early eighth century, from whom three plays sur-
vive:

Two treat of heroic adventures connected with the sev-
enth incarnation of Vishnu;

One is a love drama, sometimes called the Romeo and
Juliet of the Hindus.THE ORIENT 387

The Signet of the Minister, about 800, based on events which
occurred soon after the invasion of India by Alexander;
author unknown.

The Binding of a Braid of Hair, in six acts; author unknown;
plot taken from the Mahabarata.

Rejacekhara, about 900; left four plays which are still in ex-
istence.

Third period: from goo to the present.

Prabodha, end of eleventh century, left an allegorical play
somewhat in the manner of the European morality, called
The Rise of the Moon of Knowledge; six acts.

Other plays, farces, and dramatic poems exist, but only a few
have so far been translated by western scholars.

DRAMA OF CHINA:

School for singing and pantomimic dancing established in eighth
century.

From 1200 to 1368, the most brilliant dramatic period, during
the Kin and Yuen dynasties (Mongol).

A collection exists known as the Hundred Plays of the Yuen
Dynasty. The titles of about six hundred other plays are
known, also the names of eighty-five playwrights.

The Little Orphan of the House of Tchao, fourteenth century,
author unknown, translated by a French Jesuit priest in 1735.

The Story of the Magic Flute, fourteenth century, author un-
known.

The Sorrows of Han, based on a historical incident of 42 B.C.
(played in America about 1910 by Miss Edith Wynne Matthi-
son).

DRAMA OF JAPAN:
The No theater:
Period of greatest brilliance, 14th and early 15th centuries.
Kwanami Kiotsugu, 1355-1406.
Seami Motokiyo, 1373-1455, son of Kiotsugu, manager and
writer of No plays.

The popular theater of two kinds, legitimate and marionette;
both developed to a great extent in the seventeenth century.388 A SUPPLEMENT

Chikamatsu Monzayamon, born about 1653, died about 1724;
became a Ronin (rebel against a tyrannical lord) ; left fifty-
one compositions for Marionettes, one of the best-known
being The Battles of Kokusenya.

18th century: period of greatest achievement in popular drama.

Idzumo: died 1756.

Author of one of the many versions of The Magazine of
Faithful Retainers, or The Loyal Legion, or The Forty-
seven Ronins, founded on a historical event occurring in
1703.

Chikamatsu Hanni, son of the first Chikamatsu; playwright
and manager.

THE MIDDLE AGES

Drama in Europe quiescent for almost the entire first thousand
years of our era.
Continuance of play-acting of a low sort, and occasional dramatic
enterprises in the Church and monasteries.
Imitation and dialogue employed in the ritual of the Church in
the fourth century.
“Living pictures” in the Church on festival days, fifth century.
Festivals which burlesqued the rites of the Church, such as,
The Feast of Fools
The Feast of the Ass
The Boy Bishop.
Occasional imitations of classic plays:
Roswitha (also Hroswitha, and Hrotsuit), tenth century, six
plays extant.
Biblical plays established in some sections by the ninth century:
lasted until the sixteenth century;
most flourishing period: the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.BIBLICAL PLAYS
BIBLICAL PLAYS

389

FRANCE

Representatio Adz (Representation of Adam) twelfth century,
consisting of three plays called
The Fall of Adam and Eve ;
The Murder of Abel ES Norman French,
The Prophecies of Christ witht sei Dees inlet
Collection of Miracles of Our Lady, from the thirteenth or
fourteenth century, containing the legends of
Sister Beatrice
The Juggler of Notre Dame
Robert the Devil
Play of St. Nicholas, by Jean Bodel.
Miracle of St. Theophilus, by Rutebceuf, thirteenth century,
probably the first of the French Mary plays.
Acts of the Apostles, more than ten times as long as a Shake-
speare play.
Octavian and Sybilline prophecies counted as sacred subjects.
Manuscript preserved at Orleans, from thirteenth century, in-
cludes ten plays:
Four on the miracles of St. Nicholas
Adoration of the Magi
Appearance of Christ on the Road to Emmaus
Conversion of St. Paul
Raising of Lazarus
An Easter Play
A Christmas Play
According to Stoddart’s Bibliography, there are in France,
still unedited, 15 manuscripts of cycles of plays, each con-
taining from 4,000 to 37,000 lines.

GERMANY

Earliest miracles belong to the thirteenth century. Perform-
ance of The Ten Virgins at Eisenach, 1322. (Play lost.)

ITALY

Earliest record of an Italian mystery, 1243.

Earliest sacred play known to be written, Abraham and Isaac,
by Feo Belcari, 1449.

a‘

ee Seo o

.
i
i390 A SUPPLEMENT

ENGLAND

Sacred plays and fragments of plays surviving:
Harrowing of Hell, earliest extant play, with three manu-
scripts, all belonging to the fourteenth century.
Abraham and Isaac, an East Midland play, discovered re-
cently, belonging to the fourteenth century.
Ludus Filiorum Israel, 1350, performed at Cambridge.
Two manuscripts from Norwich, sixteenth century:
Creation of Eve
Fall of Adam and Eve

The Cycles:
Chester :

Earliest manuscript belongs to the year 1591, but was
compiled or composed probably as early as 1340.

Authorship attributed to Don Randall, monk of Chester
Abbey, who is supposed to be identical with Randulf
Higden, author of the Polychronicon. Died 1364.
Manuscript shows marks of having been combined with
other similar works.

Known to have been produced as early as 1328.

Acted at Whitsuntide.

Complete edition made for the Shakespeare Society in

1843.

York:
Manuscript dates from about 1430, but was composed
probably a century earlier.
Originally consisted of forty-eight plays, some of which
are now missing.
Follows Bible narrative closely.
Has five pieces almost identical with the Towneley plays
on the same subject. These plays are:
The Departure of the Israelites
Christ in the Temple
The Descent into Hell
The Resurrection
The Last Judgment
Played on Corpus Christi Day. Very popular.
Edited and printed in 1885 by Lucy Toulmin-Smith.
Manuscript in the possession of Lord Ashburnham.BIBLICAL PLAYS 391

Coventry:

Greater part of manuscript written in 1468.

Manuscript in the British Museum; has been edited by
Halliwell-Phillips.

As divided by the editor it consists of forty-two plays.
Not all were performed in any one year.

Most dramatic plays are Woman Taken in Adultery, and
the Death of Herod.

This Cycle exceeded all others in fame in the fifteenth
century.

Towneley (sometimes called Wakefield) :

About the middle of the fourteenth century.

Called Towneley from name of family who once pos-
sessed the MS.

MS. now owned by Bernard Quaritch.

Contains five plays identical with five of York (see above).

Consists of thirty-two plays in present form; has two
Shepherd plays, one with the farce Mak the Sheep
Stealer.

Beverley:
Early fifteenth century. Only few remnants preserved.

Newcastle:
One play extant, Building of the Ark, with five charac-
ters, fifteenth century.

MORALITIES AND MEDIEVAL SECULAR PLAYS

THE Moratity:
Earliest extant example in England, Castle of Perseverance,
fifteenth century.
Everyman, probably of Dutch origin, belongs to time of Ed-
ward IV, fourteenth century.
Condemnation of Banquets, by Nicolas de la Chesnaye, French.

LicHtT CoMeEpy:
Adam de la Halle, French, 13th century.
Le Jeu d’Adam.
Le Jeu Robin et Marion, called the first light opera.392 A SUPPLEMENT

THE FARCE:
Mak the Sheep Stealer, in Towneley Cycle, English.
The Wash Tub, French.
The Farce of Pierre Pathelin, 15th century, French.
85 Shrovetide plays extant, by Hans Sachs, 1494-1576, German.

THE INTERLUDES:
Examples by
Nicholas Udall,
John Bale,
John Heywood (1497-1580).

THE Puppet SHOW:
Flourished especially in 15th century.

TRAVESTIES OF RiTuALS, LikE THE FEAST OF THE ASS
Known as early as loth century.
Flourished for nearly five centuries.

NATIONAL DRAMA
ITALY BEFORE 1700
TRAGEDY:
Sofonisba, 1515, by Gian Giorgio Trissino, 1478-1550.
Rosamunda, by Rucellai.
Canace, by Speron Sperone.

CoMEDY :
Calandra (based upon the Mencechmi of Plautus), by Bib-
biena, 1470-1520.
Cortigiana and other plays, by Aretino, 1492-1556.
Mandragola, and Clizia, by Machiavelli, 1469-1527.
Suppositi, Negromante, and other plays, by Ariosto, 1474-1533.

PASTORALS :
Aminta, by Torquato Tasso, 1544-1595.
Pastor Fido, by Giovanni Guarini, 1537-1612.

SPAIN BEFORE 1700

Early tragedy, Celestina, or the Tragedy of Calisto and Melibcea,
late 15th century.

Lope de Rueda, “Father of Spanish Drama,” between 1544 and
1567.ef
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NATIONAL DRAMA 393

Lope de Vega, 1562-1635:
1800 dramas.
400 sacred plays (autos sacramentales).
Guillen de Castro, from whom Corneille borrowed material for the
Cid.
Calderon de la Barca, 1600-1681:
108 dramas.
73 sacred plays (autos sacramentales).
Some of the important plays are:
Devotion to the Cross
Origin, Loss, and Restoration of the Virgin
Purgatory of St. Patrick
The Wonderful Magician
Life Is a Dream
Love Triumphant over Death

TRAGEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

Early writers of tragedies:
Jodelle, 1532-1573.
Robert Garnier, 1534-1590.
Alexander Hardy, 1560-1631—Court poet to Henry IV—z1200
plays.

Pierre Corneille, 1606-1684:
Thirty plays, among which are:
Mélite
The Cid
The Liar (Le Menteur)
Les Horaces
Cinna
Polyeucte

Jean Racine, 1639-1699:
Thébaide
Alexandre
Andromaque
Bérénice
Athalie
Phédre
Esther
Mithridate
Iphigénie394 A SUPPLEMENT
COMEDY IN FRANCE BEFORE 1700

Jean Baptiste de Poquelin de Moliére, 1621-1673

Best known plays:
L’Etourdi
Docteur Amoureux
Les Précieuses Ridicules
Sganarelle
L’Ecole des Maris
L’Ecole des Femmes
Tartuffe
Don Juan
Médicin malgré lui
Le Misanthrope
Tartuffe (2nd)
L’Avare
Georges Dandin
Monsieur de Pourceaugnac
Les Bourgeois Gentilhomme
Les Fourbéries de Scapin
Les Femmes savantes
La Contesse d’Escarbognas
Le Malade Imaginaire

THE KINDS OF ENGLISH DRAMA BEFORE 1700

INTERLUDE: Represented by
John Heywood, cir. 1497-1580
The Play of the Weather
Plays Witty and Witless
The Play of Love
Merry Play between Johan the Husband, Tyb his Wife, and
Sir John the Priest
The Four P’s

EARLIEST CoMEDIES: Represented by
Ralph Roister Doister, by Nicholas Udall, written between 1534
and 1541, printed in 1566
Gammer Gurton’s Needle, attributed to
John Still, to John Pridges, and to William Stevenson
(about 1566)ca

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NATIONAL DRAMA 395

EARLIEST TRAGEDIES :

Gorboduc (Ferrex and Porrex) by
Thomas Norton and } 6
Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset ESO

Misfortunes of Arthur, Thomas Hughes.

Tamburlaine, Christopher Marlowe, 1587.

TRAGEDY OF BLoop:
The Spanish Tragedy, 1587, Thomas Kyd.

DoMEsTIC TRAGEDY: based on local and nearly contemporary events
Arden of Faversham, 1592, anonymous.
A Woman Killed with Kindness, Thomas Heywood, 1603.
A Warning for Fair Women, anonymous.

CHRONICLE AND History PLays: partially represented by
Tamburlaine, 1587, Christopher Marlowe.
Edward Second, Marlowe, 1594.
Battle of Alcazar, 1594, George Peele.
True Tragedies of Marius and Sylla, 1594, Thomas Lodge.

RoMANTIC COMEDIES:
Promos and Cassandra, 1578, George Whetstone.
James IV, Robert Greene.
Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, Robert Greene.
As You Like It, Shakespeare.
Twelfth Night, Shakespeare.
A Pleasant Comedie of Fair Em, Robert Greene.
A Merry Devil of Edmonton, anonymous (1604 approximately).
The Shoemaker’s Holiday, Thomas Dekker.
Old Fortunatus, Thomas Dekker.

PASTORAL CoMEDY:
The Queen’s Arcadia, 1605, Samuel Daniel.
Hymen’s Triumph, 1614, Samuel Daniel.
The Faithful Shepherdess, John Fletcher.
The Sad Shepherd (unfinished), Ben Jonson.396 A SUPPLEMENT

Court CoMepiEs: Represented by
John Lyly in his six comedies:
Campaspe (based on an incident in the life of Alexander the
Great)
Sapho and Phao
Endimion from Latin mythology
Midas
Gallathea
Love’s Metamorphosis
The Woman in the Moon

Court MASQuEs: written by

Ben Jonson

John Fletcher

Thomas Heywood

George Chapman
Thomas Marston

Samuel Daniel

John Ford

Thomas Campion

PATENTS AND THEATERS IN ENGLAND

First royal patent issued to the “Servants of Lord Leicester,”
1574.

Six companies licensed, 1578.

Lord Leicester went with his players to Germany, 158s.

Playhouses :

The Theater (first house in England regularly designed for
plays), built 1576, pulled down 1598, in Shoreditch, public.

The Curtain, built 1576, in Shoreditch, public.

Newington Butts, owned by Henslowe, public.

The Rose, built 1592, destroyed probably in 1647, used by the
Chapel Children, private.

The Globe, built 1598, burned 1613, rebuilt 1614, pulled down
by Puritans 1644, public.

Fortune, built 1599, burned 1621, rebuilt probably in 1622, de-
stroyed about 1661, public.

Red Bull, built about 1599, rebuilt about 1630, destroyed about
1663, private.

Hope, or Bear Garden, built as theater 1613, destroyed about
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ENGLAND 3907

Cockpit, or Phenix, built about 1615 in Drury Lane, destroyed
sometime after 1663.
Salisbury Court, or Whitefriars, built 1629.

THE SCHOLAR POETS

Joun LyLy, 1552-1601—Court Comedies
Endimion
Midas
Sapho ‘and Phao
Alexander and Campaspe
Gallathea
Mother Bombie
The Woman in the Moon—in blank verse

in prose—euphuistic

ROBERT GREENE, 1561-1592
Orlando Furioso
Honorable History of Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay
Looking Glass for London (with Lodge)

Tuomas NAs8, 1567-1601
Isle of Dogs
Tragedy of Dido (with Marlowe)
Summer’s Last Will and Testament

GEORGE PEELE, 1558-1598
Edward I (Chronicle Play)
Battle of Alcazar
David and Bathsabe
Old Wives’ Tale

Tuomas LopcE, 1556-1625
Looking Glass for London (with Greene)
Wounds of Civil War

THoMAS Kyp, ¢.1557-¢.1595
The Spanish Tragedy
Soliman and Perseda
The First Hamlet (authorship uncertain but attributed to Kyd,
1589)
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE, 1564-1593
Tamburlaine (two parts)
Doctor Faustus
Massacre at Paris398 A SUPPLEMENT

The Jew of Malta
Edward II
Tragedy of Dido (with Nash)

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, 1564-1616
Earliest dramatic production probably Henry VI, in collabora-
tion.
Chronology of plays, according to Neilson and Thorndike:

First Period

Plenty, Vile (rath yee cscs opote is nin's \-/aitepeteis © oes 1590-1
Tayers eabOUr Ss WoOSE « . son «ois ee ctie(Atleielaj.aisie.6 I59I
(GomedveOr EGLOTs) sc cle ae oc cies clolemieini-ieie = «0/012 I59I
Two Gentlemen of Verona ..........-ceeeeees 1591-2
Plenty Ve (bart lgy iis ere 2 = elecis siecle cla’ hele 1590-2
leone? Wil (ekiae INNO) Geaggeqedaoo 704 souuboDdT 1590-2
iver! UL 4 Aon ganoo.souccdoo Ob onnoOs ao sonbd: 1593
RG TA OM eis bc nlcpate ohn emilee laiel siete ris eleysiols 1593
Mt TOTONICUS oof. r + wicisie a's ser oj06 s <.inke a )alnie 1593-4
Second Period
Midsummer Night’s Dream ...............00. 1594-5
RACH ATC UE cree are cts cjoc wictete ete nietcre ele leh incite wjwreve oft 1595
Romeo and Juliet ..... 0.00. .0c eee en ences cece 1594-5
Merchant Of \VieniCel esas ss aieiatts oheveoloiitieie mins 1595-0
Taming of the Shrew ...........0-.+se.0.s00- 1596-7
eVeraisy live (bart DW) ec cccctets 6 cle ere in' em wluletn]eiejainisinle 1597
Merry Wives of Windsor .........-sseeeeeees 1598
eUTyaVie (att LL) ce crevice oie wine laieie o's nlciasaleiale 1598
Mincneada About Nothing ce. oo... cece - <le 1599
PAE URV RV Ge icles 02 6 3 a.- oc es tejneme oeteie eetninateiarels s 1599
WEAISIIS IG AESAN, 5c Valsielc's oie nV ciciels plorele olelotlele’e » clea 1599
PISURVIISMIEIKGU IE 5. oe ce we sce s caleelehls cit inte eins 1599-1600
PWCINEITEEINDP TICS «i. «a sc, stat cicle ne siqesicinieiersiow = e'0.0 1601
Third Period

STC ISHEAMICMOLESSIG? 0s coyr.c sys oie sieieibiepnieis shsbc0c915 0° 1601-2
Alls Weleunat Ends Well’ o..0... 050.0555. 0s 1602
A AITI CE PTET TAUS cos o's 6c coe s a Rvslets wlieicienis + cle eis 1602-3
Measure sorMecasure .. ocean ene cece es cc ol 1603
eSNG eer aie Gide w nce. Seerauens cro t wrelever ceeers tielere 1604

WGI nearer eri cie = 6 sc cleo em Coele yi siecle ents ore 1605-6ENGLAND 399

Fourth Period
IMACDEE oie j0'savis'n 0 inrepcrcierebe tate ght eicE ree ene 1606
mimonvot Athens. of )..:f sicetmi etn eee 1607
ROLICleS) 9 spa. «sei cisja ales eh crete ee ee 1607-8
Antony, and” Cleopatra: 34517-4253 oe ere tae 1607-8
Coriolanus? .. 3. cece acne an ee 1609
Gymbeline.”. . 25. Sacre ares een ty ee eee 1610
Winters: Tale. .'-<ja:h comic aes yee Se ee 1611
ANC EOC ORCS MaeD creme nee Coa bbc o¢ 1611
VenRVE WITT oo eit aaciios sce as ce ere 1612
‘BworNoble -Kinsment. 25)... oo kee 1612-13

First Folio, published by Heminge and Condell, 1623 contained

37 plays. Pericles was not included.

=
oaen nnninitingy pha aks ¥DRAMATISTS OF THE REIGNS OF JAMES AND
CHARLES I, WITH REPRESENTATIVE PLAYS

BEN JONSON, 1574-1637. Poet laureate
Every Man in His Humour
Sejanus, His Fall
Volpone, or The Fox
The Alchemist (satirizing the prevailing passion for the occult)
Bartholomew Fair
Eastward Hoe (with Marston and Chapman)

FRANCIS BEAUMONT, 1584-1616 :
JoHN FLETCHER, 1579-1625 } Joint plays:
Philaster, or Love Lies a-Bleeding
The Maid’s Tragedy
King and No King
The Knight of the Burning Pestle
By Fletcher alone, or with collaborators other than Beaumont:
I. Pure comedies:
Rule a Wife and Have a Wife (underplot from
Cervantes )
Wit Without Money
The Wild Goose Chase
The Chances (partly from Cervantes)
The Noble Gentleman (with some other author)
II. Heroic or romantic dramas:
The Knight of Malta (with Massinger)
The Pilgrim
The Loyal Subject
A Wife for a Month
Love’s Pilgrimage (with Shirley and Jonson, from
Cervantes )
The Lover’s Progress (revised by Massinger)
III. Mixed comedy and romance:
The Spanish Curate (with Massinger )
Monsieur Thomas
The Custom of the Country (with Massinger, from
Cervantes )
400ENGLAND 401

The Elder Brother (with Massinger)

The Little French Lawyer (with Massinger)
The Humorous Lieutenant (from Plutarch)
Women Pleased

Beggar’s Bush (with Massinger)

The Fair Maid of the Inn (with Massinger)
The Two Noble Kinsmen (with Shakespeare)
Henry VIII (with Shakespeare)

THOMAS DEKKER, 1570-cir. 1637:
The Shoemaker’s Holiday
Old Fortunatus
Satiromastix
Westward Hoe (with Webster)
Northward Hoe (with Sir Thomas Wyatt)
The Roaring Girl (with Middleton)
The Virgin Martyr (with Massinger)
The Sun’s Darling (with Ford)
The Witch of Edmonton (with Ford)
Tuomas HEywoop, 1570-1650:
The Captives, or The Lost Recovered
If You Know Not Me, You Know Nobody
Four Prentices of London
A Woman Killed with Kindness

A Pleasant Conceited Comedie, Wherein is shewed how a Man
May Choose a Good Wife from a Bad

Tuomas MIDDLETON, 1570-1627:
A Trick to Catch the Old One
Michaelmas Term
The Family of Love
Your Fine Gallants
A Mad World, My Masters
The Changeling (with Rowley)

Joun Forp, 1586-1640:

The Broken Heart
The Lover’s Melancholy

Joun WeEssTER, 1580-c.1625:
The Duchess of Malfy
The White Devil
Northward Hoe (with Dekker)
Westward Hoe (with Dekker)

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i402 A SUPPLEMENT

GEORGE CHAPMAN, 1559-1634:
All Fools (from two plays by Terence)
The Blind Beggar of Alexandria
The Revenge of Bussy D’Ambois
The Widow’s Tears
The Gentleman Usher
Eastward Hoe (with Jonson and Marston)
The Ball (with Shirley)

PuHILip MASSINGER, 1583-1640:
A New Way to Pay Old Debts
The Fatal Dowry (plagiarized and produced by Rowe under the
name of The Fair Penitent)
(See Fletcher and Dekker for collaborations)

Joun Marston, 1575-1634:
History of Antonio and Mellida (in two parts)
Histriomastix
Jack Drum’s Entertainment (doubtful)
What You Will
Eastward Hoe (with Jonson and Chapman)

JAMEs SHIRLEY, 1596-1666:
At least 43 plays
The Ball (with Chapman)
Hyde Park
The Cardinal

Cyrit TouRNEUR, cir. 1575-1626:
The Atheist’s Tragedy
The Revenger’s Tragedy
Theaters closed 1642-1660,

RESTORATION PLAYWRIGHTS, WITH REPRESENTATIVE PLAYS:

Lord Orrery, 1621-1679
The Black Prince
Tryphon
Herod the Great
Altemira

John Dryden, 1631-1700
Left at least twenty-seven plays, partially represented by
Comedies:ENGLAND 403

The Wild Gallant
Marriage a la Mode
Limberham, the Kind Keeper
Tragi-comedies :
The Rival Ladies
The Spanish Fryar, or the Double Discovery
Love Triumphant, or Love Will Prevail
Heroic Plays:
The Indian Queen (with Howard)
The Indian Emperor, or The Conquest of Mexico
Tyrannick Love, or The Royal Martyr
Aureng-zebe
The Conquest of Granada (two parts)
Tragedies:
The Tempest, or The Enchanted Island (revision of
Shakespeare)
All for Love, or The World Well Lost (revision of An-
tony and Cleopatra by Shakespeare)
Troilus and Cressida, or Truth Found Too Late (revision
of Shakespeare)
C£dipus
The Duke of Guise
Don Sebastian
Cleomenes

William Wycherley, 1640-1716:
The Country Wife
The Plain Dealer

Sir George Etherege, c. 1635-1691:
The Comicall Revenge, or Love in a Tub
The Man of the Mode, or Sir Fopling Flutter
She Would If She Could

William Congreve, 1670-1729:
The Old Bachelor
The Mourning Bride
Love for Love
The Way of the World
The Double Dealer

Sir John Vanbrugh, 1666-1726:
The Relapse
The Provoked Wife

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George Farquhar, 1677-1707:
The Beaux’ Stratagem
The Recruiting Officer

Thomas Otway, 1652-1685:
Venice Preserved
The Orphan

WoMEN PLAYWRIGHTS:
Mrs. Aphra Behn, 1640-1689:
Left eighteen plays, among them
The Forced Marriage
The Amorous Prince
The Dutch Lover
The Town Fop

Mrs. Mary Manley, 1672-1724:
Left several plays

Mrs. Susannah Centlivre, 1667-1723:
The Platonic Lady
The Busybody
A Bold Stroke for a Wife

OTHER PLAYWRIGHTS:
Sir Charles Sedley, 1639(?)-1701
Edward Ravenscroft, fl. 1671-1697
Thomas Shadwell, 1642(?)-1692
Thomas D’Urfey, 1653-1723
Thomas Southerne, 1660-1746
Nicholas Rowe, 1674-1718
Elkanah Settle, 1648-1724
Nathaniel Lee, 1653(?)-1692
John Crowne, died 1703(?)
John Dennis, 1657-1734

Famous Actors AND ACTRESSES OF THE RESTORATION STAGE:
Thomas Betterton, 1635(?)-1710
Michael Mohun, about 1625-1684
Edward Kynaston, about 1640-1706
Robert Nokes, died 1673
James Nokes (comedian) died about 1692
Mrs. Elizabeth Barry, 1658-1713
Mrs. Anne Bracegirdle, 1663-1748
Mrs. Eleanor Gwynne, 1650-1687Ps
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ENGLAND 405

ENGLAND

PROMINENT PLAYWRIGHTS OF THE I8TH CENTURY, WITH REPRE-
SENTATIVE PLays:

Joseph Addison, 1672-1719:
Cato, 1713

Sir Richard Steele, 1672-1720:
The Funeral, or Grief 4 la Mode. 1701
The Lying Lover, 1703 (from Corneille’s Menteur)
The Tender Husband, 1705
The Conscious Lovers, 1722 (from Terence’s Andria)

John Gay, 1685-1732:
The Beggar’s Opera, 1728

George Lillo, 1693-1739:
The London Merchant, or The History of George Barnwell,
1731
Fatal Curiosity, 1736

Edward Moore, 1712-1757:
The Gamester, 1753

Henry Fielding, 1707-1754
The Rehearsal
The Pasquin
The Critic
The Coffee House Politician
The Letter Writers
The Modern Husband
The Universal Gallant

Samuel Foote, 1720-1777:
The Minor
The Liar

James Townley, 1714-1778:
High Life Below Stairs406 A SUPPLEMENT

Arthur Murphy, 1727-1805:
The Apprentice
The Spouter
The Upholsterer
Three Weeks After Marriage

Charles Macklin, 1697-1797:
The Man of the World

Benjamin Hoadly, 1706-1757
The Suspicious Husband, 1747

James Thompson, 1700-1749:
Sophonisba
Agamemnon
Tancred and Sigismunda
Alfred (a masque)

Colley Cibber (poet laureate) 1671-1757:
The Careless Husband
The Non-juror (a political adaptation of Moliere’s Tartuffe)
Last part of Vanbrugh’s Provoked Wife

George Colman, the Elder, 1732-1794:
The Clandestine Marriage
The Deuce Is in Him
The English Merchant
The Jealous Wife
The Musical Lady
Philaster
Polly Honeycombe

George Colman, the Younger, 1762-1836:
The Poor Gentleman
John Bull
The Heir-at-Law

Richard Cumberland, 1732-1811:
Produced 37 plays, among them
The Wheel of Fortune
The Brothers
The West Indian
The Choleric Man
The Fashionable LoverENGLAND 407

Thomas Holcroft, 1745-1809:
The Follies of a Day (translation of The Marriage of
Figaro by Beaumarchais)
The Road to Ruin
The Deserted Daughter (founded on an earlier play, The
Fashionable Lover, by Cumberland)

Hugh Kelly, 1739-1777:
Clementina
False Delicacy
The Man of Reason
The School for Wives
A Word to the Wise

Matthew (Monk) Lewis, 1775-1818:
The Castle Spectre, 1797
Alphonso, King of Castile
Adelgitha

Mrs. Elizabeth Inchbald, 1753-1821 (actress as well as play-
wright )
Such Things Are

Oliver Goldsmith, 1728-1774:
The Good Natured Man
She Stoops to Conquer

Richard Brinsley Sheridan, 1751-1816:
The Rivals
St. Patrick’s Day, or The Scheming Lieutenant
The Duenna
The School for Scandal
The Critic, or a Tragedy Rehearsed
A Trip to Scarborough
Pizarro (based on Die Spanier in Peru, by Kotzebue)

WRITERS OF CLASSICAL POETIC TRAGEDY, FOLLOWING IN THE STEPS

OF ADDISON
Name Play
Young, 2.35 uae: oes oe Busiris, 1719
The Revenge, 1721
Thompson’ oo 4o5083- Sophonisba, 1730

Agamemnon, 1738Ge

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408 A SUPPLEMENT
;
Malletigee sci sien siete atoleiers = Eurydice, 1731
BroOket. Vajcriesite «Gee die ties Gustavus Vasa, 1739
(Gebe ndaud = dead aspemocede Agrippina (a fragment) 1742
foley goss Gauoupadeood Irene, 1749
Smbllett seg. ii <iciass wie ominte The Regicide, 1749
Motley, 2... 6.0. . dfn Osta Antiochus, 1721
PR@TICOML ares eye lei ol nicjeieln wiwieie Mariamne, 1723
Wiest aes ee eles ote wien e's Hecuba, 1726
@, JonnsOne ye: <<. seri = Medea, 1731
MITACEY eeictecrcsicii si ieie's wo « Periander, 1731
Wemneye ei neces ci: = Mérope, 1731
MEK Gos cogsoc0éqGuauoD Elfrida, 1752
Crispi: ec ieciis = i- 0 Virginia, 1754
Wihitehead) <<... <1 -clenisp Creusa, 1754
Agis
lbkenes Gog gconugdEduade The Fatal Discovery
Alonzo
Douglas, 1756
TIGOIE Moc ices isteleate' Cleonice, 1775

REPRESENTATIVE PLAYWRIGHTS AND PLAYS IN
THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

FRANCE:
Bernard de Boivier de Fontenelle, 1657-1757:
Eight comedies

Jean Francois Regnard, 1655-1709:
Folies amoureuses
Légataire universel and several other comedies

Charles Riviére Dufresny, 1648-1724:
Joyeuse
Coquette du village
Malade sans maladie

Florent Cartien Dancourt, 1661-1725:
Les fonds perdues
Chevalier a la mode

Prosper Jolyot Crébillon (Crébillon the Elder), 1674-1763
Idoménée
Atrée
Rhadamiste et ZénobieEIGHTEENTH CENTURY 409

Francois Marie Arouet (Voltaire), 1694-1778:
Wrote more than fifty plays, among them
C£dipé
Oreste
Zaire
The Death of Cesar
Alzire
The Phantasm (based on the life of Mahomet)
Mérope
Tancréde
The Orphan of China (based on a Chinese play)
Alain-Réné Lesage, 1668-1747:
Wrote many farce-operettas wholly or in part, among them
Crispin rival de son maitre
Turcaret

Alexis Piron, 1698-1773:
Le métromanie
Vaudevilles
Philippe Destouches, 1680-1754:
Le philosophe marié
Le glorieux

Pierre Carlet de Chamberlain de Marivaux, 1688-1763:
Wrote more than thirty plays, among them
Le jeu de amour et du hasard
Le legs
Les fausses confidences

Pierre Claude Nivelle de la Chaussée, 1691 or 92-1754:
La fausse antipathie
Le préjugé a la mode
Mélanide
L’Ecole des méres
La gouvernante

Denis Diderot, 1713-1784:
Le fils naturel
Le pére de famille
Jean Jacques Rousseau, 1712-1778:
Le devin du village
Michael Jean Sedaine, 1719-1797:
Le philosophe sans le savoir
La gageure imprévue and other comedies410 A SUPPLEMENT

Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais, 1732-1799:
Le barbier de Seville
Le marriage de Figaro
Eugénie
Les deux amis
La mére coupable

Pompignan, author of Didon

Saurin, author of Spartacus

Pierre de Belloy, author of Siege de Calais, Titus, Zelmire

Jean Frangois Ducis, adapted six Shakespeare plays for the
French stage

Jean Francois de la Harpe, also made adaptations of Shake-
speare

ITALY:
Pietro Bonaventura Trepassi, known as Metastasio, 1698-1782:
Left fifteen lyric dramas, among them
Dido Abandoned (Dido abandonata)
In the Reign of Attilus

Carlo Goldoni, 1707-1803:
Left about one hundred and sixty comedies, among them
The Coffee House
The True Friend
The Mistress of the Inn (La Locandiera)
Carlo Gozzi, 1722-1806:
The Loves of the Three Melarancie
The Little Angel of Belverde

Vittorio Alfieri, 1749-1803:
Left at least nineteen plays, among them
Virginia
The Conspiracy of the Pozzi
Timoleon
The First Brutus
The Second Brutus

SPAIN:
Huerta, 1734-1787:
Raquel (a tragedy)

Gaspar Melchior de Jovellanos, 1744-1811:
The Honest Criminal (a comedy)EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 41

Nicolas Fernandez de Moratin (Moratin the Elder), 1737-1780:
The Female Coxcomb (Petimetra) 1762
Hormesinda

Leandro Fernandez de Moratin, 1760-1828:
The Old Man and the Maiden
The New Comedy
The Baron
The Female Hypocrite
The Girl’s Yes

Ramon de la Cruz, 1731-1791:
Left at least three hundred dramatic pieces
Farces most successful

GERMANY:
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, 1729-1781:
Most important plays are
Miss Sara Sampson
Minna von Barnhelm
Nathan the Wise
Emilia Galotti

August Friedrich von Kotzebue, 1761-1819:
Left about two hundred plays, among them
The Crusader
The Stranger (English title of Menschenhass und Reue)
The Spaniards in Peru

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749-1832:
Tragedies:
Clavigo
Egmont
Faust
Gotz von Berlichingen
Iphigenia
The Natural Daughter
Prometheus
Stella
Tasso

Also six comedies, five satirical dramas, three operettas, five
festival plays, several masques, two serious plays (not com-
monly classed with the tragedies) Kiimstler’s Erdenwallen

and Kiinstler’s Vergotterung, and at least two translations
from Voltaire.412 A SUPPLEMENT

Johann Friedrich von Schiller, 1759-1805:
The Robbers
Love and Intrigue (Kabale und Liebe)
Don Carlos
Wallenstein’s Camp
The Piccolomini belong together
The Death of ey
Marie Stuart
The Bride of Messina
The Maid of Orleans
Wilhelm Tell

SCANDINAVIA:
Ludwig Holberg, 1684-1754:
Left thirty-four plays, among them

The Arabian Powder
Without Head or Tail
Witchcraft
The Busy Man
The Fickle-minded Woman
Jean de France
The Political Pewterer
The Fortunate Shipwreck
Erasmus Montanus

Johannes Evald, 1743-1781:
Adam and Eve
Rolfe Krage
The Brutal Applauders

Johan Herman Wessel, 1742-1785:
Love Without Stockings

THE NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES

FRANCE:
Guilbert de Pixérecourt, 1773-1844:
Wrote at least one hundred and twenty plays, half of which
were melodramasNINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 413

Frederic Soulié, 1800-1847:
Writer of melodramas of violent type
La closerie des Genets

Alexandre Dumas, the Elder, 1803-1870:
Henry III and his court
Antony
Christine
La tour de Nesle
Richard Darlington
Angeéle
Kean

Victor Hugo, 1802-1885:
Cromwell
Marion Delorme
Hernani, 1830
Le roi s’amuse (basis of Verdi’s opera Rigoletto)
Lucréce Borgia
Marie Tudor
Angélo
Ruy Blas (often counted Hugo’s finest play), 1838
Les Burgraves
Les jumeaux
Torquemada

Eugéne Scribe, 1791-1861:
Either alone or in collaboration, he wrote about four hundred
dramatic pieces, among them
Mon oncle César
La petite sceur
Le mariage d’argent
Zoé, ou l’amant prété (Loan of a Lover in English)
Valérie
La Czarine
Adrienne Lecouvreur

Emile Augier, 1820-1889:
Cigué, 1844
L’ Aventuriére
Gabrielle414 A SUPPLEMENT

Le gendre de Monsieur Poirier (with Jules Sandeau), 1854
Les effrontés

Le fils de Giboyer

Maitre Guérin

Paul Forestier

Les Fourchambault

Alexandre Dumas, the younger, 1824-1895:

Wrote at least twelve important plays between 1852 and 1876

La dame aux camélias, 1852 (Camille in English, La Travi-
ata in Verdi’s opera)

Diane de Lys
Le demi-monde
La question d’argent
Le fils naturel
Un peére prodigue
L’Ami des femmes
Les idées de Mme Aubray
Une visite de noces
La princesse Georges
La femme de Claude
Monsieur Alphonse
L’Etrangére
Denise
Francillon

Victorien Sardou, 1831-1908:
Wrote more than forty plays, among them

Les pattes de mouche, 1861 (adapted into English under the
titles of A Scrap of Paper, and Adventures of a Love
Letter )

Nos intimes (adapted into English under the titles of
Friends or Foes, Bosom Friends, Peril)

Dora (in English called Diplomacy)

Maison neuve

Cléopatra

Divorcons

Odette

L’Oncle Sam

Fédora

Madame Sans-Géne

La Toscaed

7 eee al w

NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 415

Patrie

La haine

Famille Benoiton
Nos bons villageois

Octave Feuillet, 1821-1890:

Either alone or in collaboration wrote about twenty plays
Tentation, 1860 (adapted by Boucicault as Led Astray)
Sphinx
Palma, ou la nuit du Vendrédi-Saint
Dalila
Julie

Eugéne Labiche, 1815-1888:

Wrote many farces and light comedies (Box and Cox bor-
rowed by Morton, Little Toddlekins borrowed by Charles
Matthews)

Voyage de Monsieur Perrichon

Ludovic Halévy, 1834-1908:
Wrote librettos for opera, including Carmen for Bizet, and
many other plays, collaborating with
Henri Meilhac, 1832-1897:
Plays by the two authors include
Froufrou
La cigale
La boule
La petite mére

Alfred de Vigny, 1799-1863 (translator of Shakespeare) :
Chatterton

Alfred de Musset, 1810-1857:
Fantasio
Un Caprice
On ne badine pas avec I’amour

Henri Becque, 1837-1899:
The Parisian Woman
The Ravens (Les corbeaux)
Michael Pauper
Honest Women
Widowed
The Start416 A SUPPLEMENT

Francois de Curel, 1854-
The New Idol
The Beat of the Wing
The Dance Before the Mirror
The Wise Man’s Folly

Eugéne Brieux, 1858-
Blanchette
The School for Mothers-in-law
The Three Daughters of Monsieur Dupont
The Red Robe
Les avariés (known in English as Damaged Goods)

Paul Hervieu, 1857-1915
The Nippers
The Passing of the Torch
The Labyrinth
The Awakening
Destiny Is Master

Henri Lavedan, 1859-
The Family
The Medici
The Duel
Sire
The King’s Dog
Petard

Maurice Donnay, 1854-
Lysistrata
The Lovers
The Other Danger
The Return from Jerusalem
Moliére’s Household

Edmond Rostand, 1864-1918
The Sacred Wood
The Romantics
The Faraway Princess
The Samaritan Woman
Cyrano de Bergerac
L’Aiglon
Chantecler
Don Juan’s Last Night‘J

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NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 417

GERMANY AND AUSTRIA:
Christian Grabbe, 1801-1836:
Frederick Barbarossa
Henry Sixth
Don Juan and Faust

August Platen (Count von Platen-Hallermund) 1796-1835:
Writer of comedies and parodies
The Fatal Fork
Romantic Cédipus

Heinrich von Kleist, 1777-1811:
The Schroffenstein Family (same theme as Romeo and Juliet)
Amphitryon
Penthesilea
Katie of Heilbronn
The Broken Jug
The Battle of Arminius
The Prince of Homburg

1
Robert Guiscard (a fragment) f posthumous

Franz Grillparzer, 1791-1872:

The Ancestress (Die Ahnfrau)

Sappho

The Golden Fleece

Jason a trilogy

Medea

King Ottckar’s Fortune and End

A True Servant of His Master

The Waves of Love and the Sea (theme of Hero and
Leander )

Dream Is a Life (Der Traum ein Leben)

Woe to Him Who Lies
Three tragedies appeared after the author’s death

Karl Gutzkow, 1811-1878:
Queue and Sword, 1843
The Prototype of Tartuffe
Uriel Acosta
The King’s Lieutenant418 A SUPPLEMENT
Friedrich Hebbel, 1813-1863:

Genoveva

Maria Magdalena
Herod and Mariamne
Gyges and His Ring
Agnes Bernauer

Otto Ludwig, 1813-1865:
The Maccabees
The Hereditary Forrester

The Niebelungs (a trilogy which won the Schiller prize in
1862)

Ernst von Wildenbruch, 1845-1909:
The Karlovingians
Christopher Marlowe
The Mennonite
The Songs of Euripides

Gerhardt Hauptmann, 1862-
Before Sunrise, 1889
Lonely Lives
The Weavers, 1892
Hannele
The Sunken Bell
Florian Geyer
Drayman Henschell
Poor Henry
Rose Bernd

Hermann Sudermann, 1857-
Honor
John the Baptist
St. John’s Fire
Storm-Brother Socrates
The Flower Boat
The Woman Friend
Raschoffs, The
Heimat (in English Magda)
The Joy of Living (Es lebe das Leben)NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 419

Arthur Schnitzler, 1862-
Anatol
The Green Cockatoo
The Legacy
Light o’ Love
The Mate
Beatrice’s Veil
Living Hours
Literature
The Lonely Way
Intermezzo
The Countess Mizzi
Young Medardus
Professor Bernhardi
The Big Scene
The Sisters

Hermann Bahr, 1863-
The Poor Fool
The Fawn
The Concert
The Little Dance
The Phantom
The Gay Soap Boiler
The Voice
The Monster
Light o’ Marriage

Franz Wedekind, 1864-
The Earth Spirit
The Awakening of Spring

Hugo von Hofmannsthal, 1874-
Death and the Fool
Yesterday
The Rose Cavalier
The Woman Without a Shadow
Helen
Elektra
C£dipus420 A SUPPLEMENT

BELGIUM:

Maurice Maeterlinck, 1864-
The Princess Maleine
The Blind
The Intruder
Joyzelle
Sister Beatrice
Monna Vanna
The Miracle of St. Anthony
Pelléas and Mélisande
The Blue Bird
Mary Magdalene

HoLianp:

Herman Heijermans, 1864-
The Good Hope
Shackles
All Souls
The Sleeping Beauty
Jubilee
The Ghetto
Saltimbank

HUNGARY:
Ferenc Molnar, 1878-
The Devil
Liliom
The Guardsman (also known as Where Ignorance is Bliss)
The Swan
Fashions for Men
The Wolf (known as The Phantom Rival)
The Play’s the Thing

SPAIN:
José Echegaray, 1833-1916:

The Great Galeoto (in English The World and His Wife)
Mariana
Madman or Saint (also known as Folly or Saintliness)
The Son of Don Juan
The Madman Divine
The Street Singer
Always Ridiculous*<
>

NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 421

Benito Peréz-Galdos, 1845-1920:
Dofia Perfecta
The Grandfather
The Duchess of San Quentin
Electra

Jacinto Benevente, 1866-
The Bonds of Interest
The Passion Flower
The Prince That Learned Everything Out of Books
Saturday Night
In the Clouds
The Truth
The Soul of the Princess
The Magic of an Hour
The Field of Ermine

Martinez Sierra, director of Theatro Esclava in Madrid:
The Cradle Song

The Quintero brothers:
Concha the Clean
The House of Life

Eduardo Marquina:
The Poor Carpenter

Jacinto Grau:
Count Alareos

Ramon Goy de la Silva:
The Kingdom of Silence
The Court of the White Crow

ITALY:
Giuseppe Giacosa, 1847-1906:
A Game of Chess
Sad Loves
The Husband in Love with His Wife
The Cat’s Claw
The Rights of the Soul (also known as Sacred Ground)
As the Leaves
The Stronger

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Gabriele d’Annunzio, 1864-
The Dead City
La Gioconda
Glory
Francesca da Rimini
The Daughter of Jorio
More Than Love
The Ship
Phedra

Luigi Pirandello, 1867-
Sicilian Limes
“Tf Not Thus—!”
Cap and Bells
Right You Are, If You Think You Are
The Pleasure of Honesty
Each in His Own Way
Naked
Signora Morli
All for the Good
Henry IV
Six Characters in Search of an Author

NoRWAY:

Bjornsterne Bjornson, 1832-1910:
Between the Battles
Lame Hunda
Sigurd Slembe (a trilogy)
Maria Stuart of Scotland
The Newly Wedded Pair
The Editor
The King
Bankruptcy
A Gauntlet

Henrik Ibsen, 1828-1906:
Love’s Comedy, 1862
The Pretenders
Brand, 1866
Emperor and Galilean (in two parts)Me
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NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 423

,
:

The Young Men’s League
The Pillars of Society (1877)
A Doll’s House

Ghosts

An Enemy of the People
The Wild Duck
Rosmersholm

The Lady from the Sea
John Gabriel Borkman
Hedda Gabler

Little Eyolf

The Master Builder

When We Dead Awaken

SWEDEN:
August Strindberg, 1849-1912:

Master Olaf, 1872
The Father
Countess Julia
The Stronger
Easter
Gustavus Vasa

Charles XII

DENMARK:
Adam Ohlenschlager, 1779-1850:
The Legend of Aladdin
The Play of St. John’s Eve
Earl Haakon
Corregio

Johann Heiberg, 1791-1860:
King Solomon and Jorgen the Hatter
The April Fools
The Critic and the Beast
The Flying Post
The Elf Hill, 1828 (an important national play)

Hans Christian Andersen, 1805-1875:
Love on the Nikolai Tower

Edvard Brandes
A Visit424 A SUPPLEMENT

Peter Nansen
Judith’s Marriage

Hjalmarl Bergstrom, 1868-1914:
Karen Borneman
Ida’s Wedding
In the Swim
The Way to God
The Day of Trial
What People Talk Of

ENGLAND:
Joanna Baillie, 1762-1851:
Plays on the Passions (3 vols.)

James Sheridan Knowles, 1784-1862:
Wrote more than one hundred plays, among them
Virginius
The Hunchback
William Tell
John of Procida
The Daughter
The Love Chase

Edward Bulwer, first Lord Lytton, 1803-1873:
The Lady of Lyons
Richelieu
Cromwell
Money
Not so Bad as We Seem
The Rightful Heir

John Madison Morton, 1811-1891:
Wrote nearly one hundred farces, among them
Box and Cox (taken from Labiche)
Speed the Plough (in which originated “Mrs. Grundy’)

Thomas Robertson, 1829-1871:
David Garrick
Caste
School
Society
Ours
MP.NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES

Tom Taylor, 1817-1880:
Wrote more than one hundred plays, among them
Still Waters Run Deep
The Ticket-of-Leave Man
The Overland Route
Joan of Arc
Masks and Faces
The King’s Rival

G. R. Sims
Lights o’ London

LITERARY OR “CLOSET”? DRAMAS, ENGLISH

William Wordsworth, 1770-1850:
The Borderers

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834:
Translations from Schiller
Osorio, produced under the title Remorse
Zapolya

Walter Savage Landor, 1775-1864:
Count Julian

Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822:
Prometheus Unbound

The Cenci

George Gordon, Lord Byron, 1788-1824:
Manfred
Cain
Sardanapalus
Werner

Richard H. Horne, 1803-1884:
Cosmo de’ Medici
The Death of Marlowe
Gregory the Seventh

Matthew Arnold
Mérope, 1858

425426 A SUPPLEMENT

William Morris, 1834-1896:
Love Is Enough (a morality) 1873

Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1809-1892:
Queen Mary
Harold
The Falcon
The Cup
Becket (acted 1881, published 1884)

Robert Browning, 1812-1889:
Strafford, 1837
The Blot on the ’Scutcheon
In a Balcony
Colombe’s Birthday

Algernon Swinburne, 1837-1909:
Bothwell, 1874
Chastelard
Mary Stuart
Erechtheus
Locrine
Marino Faliero
Sisters: A Tragedy

Thomas Hardy, 1840-
The Dynasts (3 parts)

Arthur Wing Pinero, 1855-
Wrote many plays, among them
The Money Spinner
Lords and Commons
The Magistrate
The Schoolmistress
Sweet Lavender
The Profligate
The Cabinet Minister
Iris
Letty
The Gay Lord Quex
The Second Mrs. Tanqueray
His House in Order
The Thunderbolt
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NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 427

Henry Arthur Jones, 1851-
The Silver King
Wealth
The Middle Man
Michael and His Lost Angel
The Liars
Mrs. Dane’s Defense
The Case of Rebellious Susan
The Evangelist

Sidney Grundy, 1848-
A Fool’s Paradise
A White Lie
The Greatest of These
The Seat of Honor

R. C. Carton, 1856-
Liberty Hall
Lord and Lady Algy
Wheels within Wheels
Mr. Preedy and the Countess

Oscar Wilde, 1856-1900:
Salome (written in French for Sarah Bernhardt) 1893
Lady Windemere’s Fan
A Woman of No Importance
An Ideal Husband
The Importance of Being Earnest

George Bernard Shaw, 1856-
Mrs. Warren’s Profession
Widowers’ Houses
You Never Can Tell
Cesar and Cleopatra
Man and Superman
Candida
The Man of Destiny
Back to Methuselah
Androcles and the Lion
Saint Joan428 A SUPPLEMENT

Sir James M. Barrie, 1860-
Quality Street
The Admirable Crichton
Little Mary
Peter Pan
Alice-sit-by-the-Fire
What Every Woman Knows
The Legend of Leonora
The Will
The Twelve-pound Look
A Kiss for Cinderella
Dear Brutus

John Galsworthy, 1867-
The Silver Box
Justice
The Pigeon
The Little Man
Strife

Granville Barker, 1877-
The Marrying of Ann Leete
The Voysey Inheritance
Waste
The Madras House
Prunella (with Laurence Housman)
Anatol (adapted from Schnitzler)

C. Haddon Chambers, 1860-1921:
The Tyranny of Tears
The Golden Silence
Passers-by
The Saving Grace
Sir Anthony

Hubert Henry Davies, 1869-1917:
Cousin Kate
The Mollusc
Lady Epping’s Lawsuit
A Single Man
Doormats
Outcast
Captain Drew on LeaveNINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 429

Stephen Phillips, 1867-
Paolo and Francesca
Herod
Ulysses
The Son of David
Nero
The King
Pietro of Siena
Armageddon

St. John Hankin, 1860-1909:
The Return of the Prodigal
The Charity That Began at Home
The Last of the De Mullins
The Constant Lover
The Cassilis Engagement

John Masefield, 1875-
The Tragedy of Nan
The Tragedy of Pompey the Great
Mrs. Harrison
Good Friday
Melloney Hotspur

Stanley Houghton, 1881-1913:
The Younger Generation
Hindle Wakes
The Hillarys
The Dear Departed
Independent Means

Elizabeth Baker
Chains
Cupid in Clapham
Over a Garden Wall

Somerset Maugham, 1874-
Our Betters
The Circle
Loaves and Fishes
Lady Frederick
East of Suez
Home and Beauty
The Camel’s Back430 A SUPPLEMENT

IRELAND:
William Butler Yeats, 1865-
Cathleen ni Houlihan
The Hour Glass
The Pot of Broth
The Land of Heart’s Desire

Lady Augusta Gregory:
Has written many plays on Irish folk-themes, also made trans-
lations of Goldoni, Moliére, Sudermann and Hyde

Spreading the News
Hyacinth Halvey
The Workhouse Ward
The Rising of the Moon
The Gaol Gate

John M. Synge, 1871-1909:
In the Shadow of the Glen
Riders to the Sea
The Well of the Saints
The Tinker’s Wedding
The Playboy of the Western World
Deirdre of the Sorrows

Lord Dunsany, 1878-
The Gods of the Mountain
If
The Golden Doom
The Queen’s Enemies
The Glittering Gate
A Night at an Inn

St. John Ervine, 1883-
Mixed Marriage
Jane Clegg
John Ferguson

RUSSIA:
Alexander Sumarakov, 1718-1777:
Wrote comedies and tragedies in the French style

Alexander Pushkin, 1799-1837:
Boris GodunovNINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 431

N. V. Gogol, 1809-1852:
The Inspector-General (Revisor, 1836)

A. N. Ostrovsky, 1823-1886:
(Called the “father of modern Russian drama”)
Poverty Is No Crime
Bad Days
The Snow Maiden
The Storm

Count Alexei Tolstoi, 1817-1875:
Best known work a trilogy, consisting of
The Death of Ivan the Terrible
Tsar Theodor
Tsar Boris

Count Leo Tolstoi, 1828-1910:
The Powers of Darkness
The Live Corpse
The Light That Shines in Darkness
The Fruits of Culture

Maxim Gorky, 1868-
The Night Asylum (also called In the Depths)
A Country House
Children of the Sun
Barbarians
The Judge

Feodor Sologub:
The Triumph of Death

Leonid Andreyev, 1871-1919:
The Black Masks
The Life of Man
King Hunger
Anathema
Gaudeamus
The Parrot
Youth
He Who Gets Slapped
Requiem
The Waltz of the Dogs432 A SUPPLEMENT

AMERICA:
First American theater opened in New York, 1761.
First permanent theater built, the Old Southwark in Philadel-
phia, 1766.
The John Street Theater in New York, built 1767.

First play written by an American to have a professional per-
formance on an American stage:
The Prince of Parthia, by Thomas Godfrey, 1767.
First comedy by an American:
The Contrast, by Royall Tyler, 1787.

William Dunlap, 1766-1839:
The Father, 1789
Leicester, 1794
Andre
A History of the Early American Theater, published 1832

John Howard Payne, 1791-1852:
Charles the Second
Brutus
Clari, the Maid of Milan

Richard Penn Smith, 1799-1854

R. N. Bird, 1806-1854:
The Gladiator
The Broker of Bogota

George Washington Parke Custis, 1781-1857:
Pocohontas and the Settlers of Virginia

John A. Stone:
Metamora

N. P. Willis, 1806-1867:
Tortesa the Usurer

Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910:
Leonora or The World’s Own

George H. Boker, 1833-1890:
Francesca da RiminiNINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 433

Dion Boucicault, 1822-1890 (Irish-American) :
Opened Park Theater, New York, 1876.
Wrote many plays, among them

London Assurance (before coming to New York, probably
with Brougham)

The Octoroon

Streets o’ London

Foul Play

Rip Van Winkle

The Colleen Bawn

The Shaughraun

Anna Cora Mowatt Ritchie, 1819-1870:
Fashion
Armand

James A. Herne, 1839-1901:
Hearts of Oak
The Minute Men
Marjorie Fleming
Shore Acres, written 1844, produced first as The Hawthornes
Sag Harbor

Bartley Campbell, 1845-1888:
My Partner
Fairfax
The Galley Slave
Matrimony

Bronson Howard, 1842-1908:
Saratoga, 1870
Moorcraft
The Banker’s Daughter
Hurricanes
Young Mrs. Winthrop
The Henrietta
Shenandoah
Aristocracy, 1892434 A SUPPLEMENT

Augustus Thomas, 1859-
Alabama
In Mizzoura
Arizona
The Earl of Pawtucket
Mrs. Leffingwell’s Boots
The Witching Hour
As a Man Thinks

William Gillette, 1855-
Held by the Enemy
Secret Service
Too Much Johnson
Sherlock Holmes

Denman Thompson:
The Old Homestead

Steele Mackaye, 1842-1894:
Hazel Kirke

David Belasco:
Heart of Maryland
The Girl of the Golden West
The Return of Peter Grimm

Clyde Fitch, 1865-1909:
Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines
Beau Brummel
The Climbers
The Girl with the Green Eyes
The City
The Truth

William Vaughn Moody, 1869-1910:
The Great Divide
The Faith Healer

Langdon Mitchell:
The New York Idea

Percy Mackaye, 1875-
The Canterbury Pilgrims
Jeanne d’Arc
Sappho and Phaon
Mater~

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NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 435

Anti-Matrimony

The Scarecrow

A Thousand Years Ago

This Fine Pretty World
Josephine Preston Peabody Marks:

The Piper

Marlowe

The Wolf of Gubbio

Mary Austin:
The Arrow Maker

Rachel Crothers:
Three of Us
A Man’s World
Nice People
Old Lady 31
Expressing Willie

;
:

Booth Tarkington, 1869-
The Man from Home (with Leon Wilson)
Clarence
Mister Antonio
The Intimate Strangers

Eugene Walter:
Paid in Full
The Easiest Way
Fine Feathers
The Challenge

Edward Sheldon:
Salvation Nell
The Boss
The Nigger
Romance
The Garden of Paradise

Charles Rann Kennedy:
The Servant in the House
The Terrible Meek
The Winter Feast
The Flower of the Palace of Han
The Chastening436 A SUPPLEMENT

Charles Kenyon:
Kindling

Jesse Lynch Williams:
Why Marry?
Why Not?

George M. Cohan, 1878-
Broadway Jones
Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford
Seven Keys to Baldpate
The Tavern
Hit-the-Trail Halliday

Susan Glaspell:
Inheritors
Suppressed Desires
The Verge

Charles Klein:
The Lion and the Mouse

Sutton Vane:
Outward Bound

Elmer Reizenstein:
On Trial

Elmer Rice:
The Adding Machine

Zoe Akins:
Declassée
The Moonflower

Hatcher Hughes:
Hell Bent for Heaven

Lulu Vollmer:
Sun Up

Owen Davis:
Icebound

Louis Beach:
The Goose Hangs High—T

NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES 437

Philip Moeller:
Georg Sand
A Road House in Arden
Helena’s Husband

Clare Kummer:
Good Gracious, Annabelle
A Successful Calamity

Eugene O’Neill, 1888-
Bound East for Cardiff
Beyond the Horizon
Desire Under the Elms
The Emperor Jones
The Hairy Ape
The Great God Brown
All God’s Chillun Got Wings
Anna Christie
Diff’rent

Paul Green:

In Abraham’s Bosom

The Field God

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;INDEX

Italicized references indicate titles of plays or of books.

Abbey Theater, founding of, 343
one of the independent group,
324
Abraham Lincoln, Drinkwater, 341
Absence of naturalism on the
Kamerny stage, 368
Abstract figures in recent drama,
367
Academy of Arcadians (Italy),
277
Academy Theater at Strassburg,
281
Acte, 91
Acting companies organized in
America, 353
Action in Greek plays, 68
Actors and actresses of note
(eighteenth century), 260
Actors’ position, in China, 105
in Greece, 75
in Rome, 91
Actors, first appearance of profes-
sional, 158
Acts of the Apostles, 131
Adams, Maude, 342
Adding Machine, The, Rice, 367
Addison, Joseph, 261
Adelchi, Manzoni, 314
Adultery, theme of French plays,
294
in Dumas’ plays, 300
fEschylus, life of, 27
changes made by, 31
chorus of, 32
patriotic and religious ideas of,
33
eclipse of, 33
how regarded by ancients, 33
honored by Athenians, 34

439

Esopus, 81

Agamemnon, A&schylus, 30

Ahnfrau, Die, Grillparzer, 311

Ajax, Sophocles, 37

Akins, Z6ée, 359

Alabama, Thomas, 356

Alemanni, 149

Alfieri, Vittorio, 277

Alleyn, Edward (note), 236

All for Love or The World Well
Lost, Dryden, 253

Alphonsus of Germany, 196

Amadis of Gaul, legends of, 13

Ambidexter, 186

“American Roscius,” The, 353

American stage in the nineteenth
century, 354

Aminta, Tasso, 157

model for English pastorals,

201

Amphitruo, Plautus, imitated, 187

Anatol, Schnitzler, 329

Ancestress, The, Grillparzer, 311

André, Dunlap, quoted, 353

Andersen, Hans Christian, 315

Andreyev, Leonid, 349

Andromaque, Racine, 175

Angelo, Hugo, 296

Anglin, Margaret, 357

Anna Christie, O’Neill, 361

Annales, or a General Chronicle
of England from Brute until
the present Yeare of Christ
1580, by Walsingham, 15

d’Annunzio, Gabriele, 334

Anonymous writers of
plays, 120

Anticipation of theories of Ibsen,
312

sacred

=
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H
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}440

Antigone, Sophocles, 36
imitated in Italian, 149
use of legend, 12
Anti-Matrimony, Mackaye, 358
Antoine, Monsieur, 323
Antonio Foscarini, Niccolini, 314
Antony and Cleopatra rewritten,
253
Antony, Dumas, 294
Garnier, 192
Appearance of lay actors in sacred
plays, 125
Appearance of women on London
stage, 250
Appius and Virginia (interlude),
186
Appurtenances of the
play, 294
Arabian story-tellers, 14
Aran Islands, 344
Arcadia, 157
Archer, William (note), 321
Arden, Mary, 224
Arden of Faversham, authorship
of, 196
Aretino, Peter, 152
Arion, 19
Ariosto, 151
Aristophanes, his life and works,
52
conservatism of, 53
as critic, 55
Aristotle, opinion of tragic poets,
61
dramatic principles, 62
principles perverted, 64
Arizona, Thomas, 356
Arms and the Man, Shaw, 339
Arnoldo di Brescia, Niccolini, 314
Arouet, Francois Marie, 269
Arrow Maker, The, Austin, 359
Arraignment of Paris, The, Peele,
217
Ars Poetica, Horace, 89
Arthur, King, legends of, 13
Art of Poetry, The, Gottsched, 282
As a Man Thinks, Thomas, 356

romantic

INDEX

Asides and soliloquies, 356
As the Leaves, Giacosa, 333
As You Like It, type of romantic
comedy, 201
in America, 355
Atellane, 79
Athalie, Racine, 173
Atheist’s Tragedy, The, Tourneur,
244
Attila, Corneille, 171
Attius, or Accius, 81
Audiences, in Athens, 76
in Rome, 93
in Elizabethan London, 212
Augier, Emile, 297
Authorship of Arden of Faver-
sham, 197
Austin, Mary, 359
Auto sacramentale, 130
performance forbidden, 279
Avariés, Les, Brieux, 330
venturiére, Augier, 298
Awakening, The Dramatic, 323
Awakening of Spring, The, Wede-
kind, 329

Back to Methuselah, Shaw, 340
Bacon, Francis, collaboration of,
192
quoted, 302
Bad Days, Ostrovsky, 348
Baillie, Joanna, 303
Baker, George P., leader of study
of drama in America, 370
quoted, 310
Bale, John, life and work, 184
importance of, 143
Ballads in Spain, 159
Ballad-opera in England, 262
Bandello, version of Romeo
Juliet by, 231
Barbarossa, legend used by Hugo,
296
Barber of Seville, The, Beaumar-
chais, 275
Barker, Granville, 341
Barrett, Lawrence, 355

andINDEX 441

Barrie, Sir James, 342
Battle of Alcazar, The, Peele, 200
quoted, 217
Batile of the Corn, The, 4
Battles of Kokusenya, The, Chika-
matsu, 110
Bauble Shop, The, Jones, 308
Bayes (Dryden), 254
Bazoche du Palais, La, 141
Beau Brummel, Fitch, 356
Beaumarchais, 274
plays used as opera librettos, 276
Beaumont, Francis, 237
Beccari, 157
Becket, Tennyson, 307
Becque, Henri, 329
Bedlam Beggars, Poor Toms, or
Abraham Men, 189
Before Sunrise, Hauptmann, 327
Beggar's Opera, The, Gay, 262
Beginning of a national drama in
Denmark, 291
Behn, Mrs. Aphra, 258
Belcari, Feo, 128
Belloy, criticism of sacred plays,
269
Benelli, Sem, 335
Benevente, José, 336
not in radical group, 368
Benign Ones, The, Aéschylus, 30
Bergen, Theater of, 318
Bernhardt, Sara, 332
Bertram, or the Castle of St. Aldo-
brand, 303
Bethlehem plays, 119
Beyond the Horizon, O’Neill, 361
Bhasa, or Bhrata, 99
Bhavabuti, 101
Bibbiena, Cardinal, 150
Binding of a Braid of Hair, The,
102
Bird, R. N., 354
Birth of Tragedy, The, Nietzsche,
20
Biographical plays, American, 359
Bizet, 301
Bjornson, Bjornstjerne, 316

Blackfriars Theater, 210
Black Masks, The, Andreyev, 349
Blank verse, first use in England,
191
as used by Greene, 216
improved by Marlowe, 221
Blind, The, Maeterlinck, 331
Blue Beard, Gozzi, 277
3lue Bird, The, Maeterlinck, 331
Blue-stockings of the Renaissance,
169
Bobadil, Captain, 156, 236
Boccaccio, 14
Bohéme, La, Giacosa, 333
Boileau, an admirer of Racine, 175
theory of drama, 175
translated into Spanish, 278
Boker, George H., 355
Bonds of Interest, The, Benevente,
336
Book of Heroes (Heldenbuch), 13
Bookworm, The, Benelli, 335
Booth, Junius Brutus, 353
Boris Godunov, Pushkin, 347
Boss, The, Sheldon, 359
Botta, on Spanish romances, 14
Boucicault, Dion, 355
Bound East for Cardiff, O'Neill,
361
Bourgogne, Hotel de, form of
stage, 181
Bovio, Giovanni, 314
Bowdlerization of Shakespeare,
261
Boyd, Ernest A., quoted on Synge,
344
Boyle, Richard, Earl of Orrery,
251
Boynton, Percy, quoted on O’Neill,
361
Bracco, Roberto, 335
Bragging Captain, The, 156
Brand, Ibsen, 318
Breaking a Butterfly, Jones, 308
Bride of Messina, The, Schiller,
289
Brieux, Eugene, 330

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i
,
i442

Brisbarre, Edouard, 305
Bridges, Dr. John, 188
Broker of Bogota, The, Bird, 254
Brotherhood of the Passion, 127
Brooke, C. Tucker, opinion of
Greene’s play, 201
on seventeenth-century drama,
259
Brooke, Arthur, 231
Brooke, Stopford, on Marlowe, 219
Browning, Robert, closet drama,
306
Brunetiére, on the influence of the
précieuses, 170
Brutal Applauders, The, Ewald,
291
Brutus, Voltaire, 270
Buchner, Georg, 311
Building of the Ark, The, 133
Bulwer, Edward, Lord Lytton, 304
Burbage, Richard, builder of Globe
Theater, 210
Burbage, James, one of the “Ser-
vants” of the Earl of Leices-
ter, 208
Burgraves, Les, Hugo, 296
Bushido (note), 106
Bussy d’ Ambois, Chapman, 241
Byron’s defence of Bertram, 303
eulogy of Sheridan, 266
closet plays, 306

Cabell, James Branch, on Mar-
lowe, 222
on Restoration drama, 249
Cabinet Minister, The, Pinero, 307
Cadmus and Hermione, 250
Cesar and Cleopatra, Shaw, 340
Cage of the Lioness, The, Rivas,
336
Caius Gracchus, Knowles, 304
Calandra, Bibbiena, 150
Calderén de la Barca, Life of, 164
as court poet, 165
sacred plays of, 165
Calverley, Walter, 198

INDEX

Cambises King of Percia (inter-
lude), 186

Candida, Shaw, 339

Canterbury Pilgrims,
kaye, 358

Capell, Edward, on the authorship
of Edward III, 199

Capeks, The, 367

Captain Bobadil, 156, 236

Capitano Metamoros, 156

Capitaine Fracasse, Le, 156

Captain Horribilicribilifax, 156

Captives, The, Plautus, 83

imitated, 187

Cardinall, The, Shirley, 245

Cardinal Wolsey, 184

Carlyle, Thomas, on books, 9

Carmen, 301

Caron, Pierre Augustin
marchais), 274

“Cartoon” comedy, 360

Case Is Altered, The, Jonson, 236

Casket scene, source of, 232

Caste, Robertson, 305

Castle of Perseverance, The, 139

Castle Spectre, The, Lewis, 302

Catalogues and records of Greek
plays, 64

Catchwords from Shakespeare, 223

Catherine the Great, as playwright,
347

Cathleen ni Houlihan, Yeats, 344

Cato, Addison, 261

Cause of the War of the Theaters,
241

Cavalleria Rusticana, Verga, 333

Caxton, William, 183

Celestine, or The Tragedy of Cal-
listo and Melibea, 159

Cellini, Benvenuto, 182

Celtic legends rewritten, 344

Centilivre, Mrs. Susannah, 258

Cervantes, 160

Change of verse-form in Benelli,
336

Chanticler, Rostand, 332

The, Mac-

(Beau-INDEX

Chapman, J. J., on Shakespeare,
233
Chapman, George, 241
Characteristics of d’Annunzio’s
plays, 334
of Barrie’s plays, 342
of Cyrano de Bergerac, 332
of plays by the elder Dumas, 294
of Elizabethan drama, 245
of English melodrama, 303
of Marlowe’s plays, 221
of Pinero’s plays, 308
of Wilde’s plays, 338
of Yeats’ plays, 344
Character of the morality, 138
Charlemagne, legends of, 13
Charles the Second, Payne and
Irving, 353
Charles Second restored, 249
Chastening, The, Kennedy, 358
Chekhov, Anton, 349
Cherry Orchard, The,
349
Chesterton, Gilbert, quoted, 352
Chettle, collaborator with Muvn-
day, 200
Chikamatsu, 109
Children of the Chapel Royal, li-
censed, 209
producers of court comedies, 202
Children of Shakespeare, 224
Children of St. Paul’s, licensed,
209
Chinese drama, subjects of, 103
theory of, 103
Choerilus, 23
Chorus Lady, The, Forbes, 360
Chorus in A®schylean tragedy, 32
Christiania University, 318
Christ at the Feast of Purim,
Bovio, 314
Christmas plays, 119
performed at Constance, 132
“Christopher North” on Miss Bail-
lie, 304
Chronicle and history play, 198 ff.

Chekhov,

443

Chronicles of England, Scotland
and Ireland, Walsingham, 15
Chronicle of Matthew Paris, 15
Cibber, Colley, manager of Drury
Lane Theater, 260
Cid, The Legend of, 16
Cid, The, Corneille, 170
Guillem de Castro, 171
Cigué, Augier, 297
Cinthio, source of Othello plot, 232
Circe, Calderon, 165
City Dionysia, Athens, 73
City, The, Fitch, 356
Civil Death, Giacometti, 313
Civic theaters in America, 369
Civil War dramas, 356, 357
Claque, in Athens, 76
Clarence, Tarkington, 360 [353
Clari, the Maid of Milan, Payne,
Classic tragedy in England, 261
Classic themes on modern German
stage, 329
Classicism in Spain, 159
Classic drama imitated in monas-
teries, 116
in Germany, 287
“Classic,” two meanings, 67
Cleopatra, Cossa, 314
Daniel, 192
Jodelle, 168
Clerical Error, A, Jones, 308
Climbers, The, Fitch, 356
Clizia, Machiavelli, 151
Clavigo, Goethe, 286
Claw, The, Rivas, 336
Cloak-and-Sword dramas, 161
“Clockmaker to the King,” 275
Closet drama in England, 306
Closing of London playhouses, 248
Coat-of-arms granted to Shkake-
speare, 225
Coburn, Mr. and Mrs., 359
Coleman, Mrs., 250
Collaboration among French play-
wrights, 298
of Beaumont and Fletcher, 237444

College Widow, The, Ade, 360
Collier’s attack on the stage, 258
Collier's list of plays (Eliza-
bethan), 204
Colman the elder, George, 264
Colman the younger, George, 304
Colum, Padraic, 343
Comedietta, 268
Commedia dell’ Arte, 153
subjects of, 154
actors in, 155
decline of, 276
Comedie larmoyante, 268
of La Chaussée, 273
Comedies of the Restoration, 255 ff.
Comedy in France (1640-1658),
178
eighteenth century, 273
Comedy of Errors, The, 227
“Comedy of humours,” 236
Comédie-vaudeville in France, 297
Comicall Historie of Alphonsus,
King of Arragon, Greene, 215
Commodye of pacient and meeke
Grissill, 186
Commuters, The, Forbes, 360
Comparison between the Victorian
and modern schools, 326
Companies of actors (Elizabethan),
209
Comparison of Doctor Faustus and
Faust, 287
Compensation received by Otway,
255
Competitions in Greece, 73
Competition in tragedy, first public,
22
Composition of Elizabethan plays,
211
Comus, character of, 51
Concha the Clean, Quintero, 336
Condell, Henry, 228
Condemnation of Banquets, The,
139
Condemnation of the theater (Eliz-
abethan), 246
(Roman), 95

INDEX

Condition of Danish stage in eight-
eenth century, 316

Conditions peculiar to American
drama, 361

Conflict, the material of epic and
drama, 9

Congreve, William, 256

visited by Voltaire, 270

Conservatism of the stage, 370

Construction of the morality, 139

Contrast, The, Tyler, 352

“Contamination,’ meaning of, 65

Contention of wo Famous
Houses of York and Lan-
caster, 199

Conquest of Granada, The, Dry-
den, 252

Copenhagen, playhouse in, 290

Corbeaux, Les, Becque, 330

Coriolanus, source of plot, 232

Cornelia, Garnier, 192

“Corneille of the Boulevards,” 293

Corneille, Pierre, 170, 171

Corneille, Thomas, 177

Correction of errors in First Folio,
230

Corregio, Niccola da, 157

Countess Cathleen, The, Yeats,
343, 344

Countess of Carmagnola, The,
Manzoni, 314

Countess Julia, The, Strindberg,
322

Country Wife, The, Wycherley,
255

County Chairman, The, Ade, 360

Cossa, Pietro, 314

Court comedies
202 ff.

Court masques (Elizabethan), 203

Court Revels, minutes of, 205

Covent Garden, 260

Corydon and Thyrsis, 157

Cradle Song, The, Sierra, 337

Craig, Gordon, 366

Cratinas, 52

Creation and Flood, 144

(Elizabethan),INDEX 445

Crébillon the elder, 269

Creed of Strindberg, 323

Criharsha, plays attributed to, 102

Critic, The, Sheridan, 267

(note), 254

Critical and Historical Essays,
Macdowell, 6

Criticisms of Ibsen, 321

Cromwell, Thomas, play on sub-
ject of, 200

Cromwell, preface to, 295

Cross Roads, The, Robinson, 345

Crothers, Rachel, 359

Cruttwell, on Roman drama, 59

Cubistic designs on stage, 366

Cumberland, Richard, 264

Curtain Theater built, 210

Cushing, Catherine C., 360

Custis, George Washington Parke,
354

Cycles of plays in England, 133

Cyclops, The, Euripides, 46

“Cynthia,” 202

Cymbeline, 227

source of plot, 232
Cyrano de Bergerac, Rostand, 331

Damaged Goods, Brieux, 330
Dance of Life, The, Ellis, quoted,
3

Dancing an ancient art, 4

Dancourt, 269

Daniel, Samuel, 192

author of pastorals, 201

Danish pension given to Hebbel,
312

Daughter of Jorio, The, D’Annun-
zio, 334

Davenant, William, 250 [305

David Garrick, play by Robertson,

David and Bathsabe, Peele, 218

Davis, Owen, 359

Dead City, The, D’Annunzio, 334

Death of Danton, The, Buchner,
311

Death of Tintagiles, The, Maeter-
linck, 331

Death of Ivan the Terrible, The,
Tolstoi, 348
Death of Robert Earl of Hunting-
ton, The, Munday and Chettle,
200
Debt of modern writers to Ibsen,
322
Dearth of arts in Germany in sev-
enteenth century, 280
Decameron, as source of plots, 232
legends preserved in, 14
Declassée, Akins, 359
Decline of classic drama, reasons
for, 95
of romanticism in France, 296
Defence of Poesy, A, Sidney, 205
Deirdre, Yeats, 344
Dekker, Thomas, 240
Delgado, Jacinto Grau, 336
DeMille, William C., 356
Demi-mondaines, on French stage,
299
Demi-monde, Le, Dumas, 300
De Montfort, Baillie, 304
Depravity portrayed in Italian
comedies, 151
Desire Under the Elms, O’Neill,
359, 361
Destouches, 273
Devotion to the Cross, The, Cal-
derén, 165
Dewey, John, on standards of art,
68
Diane de Lys, Dumas, 300
Diary, Henslowe’s (note), 236
Diccon the Bedlam, 189
Dickinson, Thomas H., on O'Neill,
361
Diderot, Denis, 274
opinion of The London Mer-
chant, 263
Dido abandonata, Metastasio, 277
Die Spanier in Peru, Kotzebue,
285
Difficult questions of play-author-
ship, 230
Dill, on Roman Society, 91

Ps
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Dionysiac festivals, 19, 74
procession, 7, 74
time of, 75
Dionysus, impersonated, 7
Disappearance of biblical
136
Discovery of ancient literatures,
147
Distinction between miracle and
mystery, 127
Dithyrambic Hymn, 7
subjects of, 21
chorus, 19
Divorcgons, Sardou, 300
Doctor, The, in Italian comedy,
155
Doctor Faustus, Marlowe, 219 ff.
in Germany, 221, 281, 287
Dodsley, 133
Doll’s House, A, Ibsen, adapted,
308
Domestic tragedy, 196
Domestic “triangle” as subject for
plots, 306
Don Carlos, Schiller, 289
Don Juan and Faust, Grabbe, 311
Don Pietro Carneso, Bracco, 335
Don Roderigo, tales of, 14
Double Dealer, The, Congreve, 256
Douglas, Home, 261
author inspired by Maffei, 277
performed in America, 253
Dovizio, Cardinal Bibbiena, 150
Dowden, on Shakespeare, 227
Downfall of Robert, Earl of Hunt-
ington, 200
Drama defined, 3
Dramatic Awakening, The, 323
Dramatis persone of melodrama,
293
Drame, 268
Drame bourgeois, 274
Dream device in plays, 216, 311
Dream Is a Life, Grillparzer,
311
Drew, John, 353

plays,

INDEX

Drinkwater, John, 341
on eighteenth century drama in
England, 267
Drum with primitive dancing, 7
Drury Lane Theater, 260
under Sheridan, 266
Dryden, John, 252
Duchess of Malfy, The, Webster,
242
Duchess of Portsmouth, friend of
Otway, 255
Ducis, translator of Shakespeare,
273
Duenna, The, Sheridan, 267
Dufresny, 269
Duke of Gothland, The, Grabbe,
311
Duke of Hesse, employment of
English players, 281
Dumas the younger, Alexandre,
299
Dumas the elder, Alexandre, 294
Dumb show in medieval plays, 144
in Battle of Alcazar, 218
in Gorboduc, 191
Dunlap, William, 352
Dunsany, Lord, 345
Duse, Eleanora, in Praga’s plays,
333
Dynasts, The, Hardy, 306
Dying Cato, The, Gottsched, 282

Earl of Dorset
ville), 190

Earl of Orrery, 251
Earl Haakon, Ohlenschlager, 315
Earl of Southampton, 227
Earliest Faust story, 220
Early death of Scholar Poets, 215
Early English tragedy, 189 ff.
Easiest Way, The, Walter, 359
Easter plays, 119

dialogue from, 115
Eastward Hoe, Marston, 242
Eccyclema, 72
Echegaray, José, 336

(Thomas Sack-=

INDEX 447

Eclipse of drama in England in
nineteenth century, 302
in Spain, 278
Eddas, The, as source of plot ma-
terial, 13
Editors of Shakespeare, 230, 231
Editions of the Faust story, 220
Education of Victor Hugo, 294
Edward First, Peele, 199, 217
Edward Second, Marlowe, 199, 219
Edward Third, 199
Edward Fourth, Heywood, 199
Effect of Ibsen’s dramaturgy, 365
Egmont, Goethe, 287
Egyptian Passion play, 6
Ehre, Die, Sudermann, 328
Eighteenth century represented by
Voltaire, 272
Electra, Sophocles, 39
El Gran Galeoto, Echegaray, 336
Elizabethan drama, forces that
shaped, 183
public, taste of, 204
performances compared with
Athenian, 213
Ellis, Edith, 360
Ellis, Havelock, on primitive danc-
ing, 3
El Pobrecito Carpintero, Marquina,
337
Emilia Galotti, Lessing, 284
Emperor and Galilean, Ibsen, 318
Emperor Jones, The, O'Neill, 361
Enamoured Woman, The, Praga,
333
Endimion, Lyly, 202 [319
Enemy of the People, An, Ibsen,
Enfants sans souct, 141
England, lack of culture in six-
teenth century, 182
English actors in America, 353
English comedians in Germany,
281
“English Euripides,’ The, 254
English influence on Voltaire, 271
in Germany, 282

English plays in Germany, 281
company in America, 352
Ennius, 80
Ephemeral character of most
drama, 370
Epic Cycle, 11
Erasmus in England, 182
Erskine, John, quoted, 268, 365
on Racine, 175
Ervine, St. John, 345
Esther, Racine, 173
Etherege, Sir George, 255
Eugénie, Beaumarchais, 275
Eulenspiegel as clown, 281
Euphues, the Anatomy of Wit, 202
His England, 202
Euripides, 45-50
European influence in Restoration
plays, 257
European plays brought to Amer-
ica, 362
Everyman, 139
Every Man in His Humour, Jon-
son, 236
Ewald, Johannes, 291
Experimentation on the American
stage, 369
“Expressionism,” 367
Expressing Willie, Crothers, 359
Extant manuscripts of sacred
drama in England, 132
Extent of work of Scribe, 297

Faith Healer, The, Moody, 357

Faithful Shepherdess, The, Fletch-
er, 202

Falconer of Pietro Ardena, The,
Marenco, 314

False Delicacy, Kelly, 264

False sentimentalism concerning
the life of the harlot, 299

Famous Victories of Henry V, 199

The Fantastics, Rostand, 332

Faraway Princess, The, Rostand,
332

Farquhar, George, 256

\¢
>

_ oe

a Sea448

Fashion, Ritchie, 354
Fatall Dowry, The, Massinger and
Field, 243
Fatal Fork, The, Platen, 311
Fate motive in Romeo and Juliet,
231
in Ghosts, 319
“Father of Danish literature,” 291
Father, The, Dunlap, 352
Strindberg, 322
Faust legend, 16
development of legend, 219, 220
Goethe’s poem, 287 ff.
as opera, 288
early versions of, 287
“Feasts” in England, 182
Feast of the Ass, origin of, 116
Feast of Fools, origin of, 116
Female Coxcomb, The, Moratin,
279
Ferrex and Porrex, 190
Fescennine songs, 78
Feuillet, Octave, 301
Field, Nathaniel, 343
Fielding, Henry, 263
Figaro, servant in The Barber of
Seville, 275
Figaro, The Marriage of, Beau-
marchais, 275
Fils de Giboyer, Le, Augier, 298
Fils naturel, Le, Diderot, 274
Financing a medieval play, 127
Fine Feathers, Walter, 359
First appearance of nationalism in
German theater, 286
First Folio, The, 228
First Hamlet, The, 196, 210
American play acted by a profes-
sional company, 352
English morality, 138
formal play in Rome, 80
good historical play in English,
199
important American drama, 353
royal patents granted, 208
First Part of Jeronimo, etc., 194
Fitch, Clyde, 356

INDEX

Fitzmaurice, George, 345
Fletcher, John, 237 ff.
as collaborator with Shakespeare,
227
Flickinger, Roy, on Greek drama,
13, 61
Flower of the Palace of Han, The,
358
Flutter, Sir Fopling, 255
Fogazzaro, Antonio, 334
Folk-lore in Hauptmann’s plays,
327
Fontenelle, 268
quoted on Corneille, 172
Fool, The, Pollock, 358
Foote, Samuel, 263
Forbes, James, 360
Forces in Elizabethan drama, 183
Ford, John, 244
Foreign movements not assimilated
in America, 363
Foreign plays in London, 261
Forerunners, The, 23
Forrest, Edwin, 353
Fortune Theater built (note), 210,
236
Forty-seven Ronins, The Story of,
110
“Founder of Russian drama,’ 348
Founders of the Irish Literary
Theater, 343
Four Elements, The, 184
Four P’s, The, Heywood, 185
Fox Hunt, The, Verga, 333
Francesca da Rimini, Boker, 355
D’Annunzio, 334
Fraternity of the Bazoche, 127
Freie Btihne, Die, 324
French Academy, founded, 171
classic influence in England, 191
comedy influenced by Spain and
Italy, 178
drama in Italy, 313
drama in Spain, 278
imitations driven from Danish
stage, 291
influence in Russia, 347INDEX 449

French plays adapted by Fitch, 357
plays performed in London, 250
plays in Copenhagen, 290
plays in Leipzig, 282
technique adopted by Pinero and

Jones, 308
vaudevilles in Denmark, 315
Freytag, Gustav, 312
Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay,
201, 216
Friendship between Goethe and
Schiller, 286, 289

Frischlin, Nicodemus, 281

Frogs, The, Aristophanes, 54, 55

Froufrou, Halévy and Meilhac,

301
Friihlingserwachen, Wedekind, 329
“Futurism” in drama, 368

Gabrielle, Augier, 298

Galsworthy, John, 341

Game of Chess, A, Giacosa, 333

Gamester, The, Moore, 263

influence in France, 274
Gammer Gurton’s Needle, 188
Garnier, Robert, 168
admired in England, 191

Garrick, David, manager of Drury
Lane, 260

Gas I and Gas II, Kaiser, 367

Gascoigne, George, 187

Gay, John, 262

Gellert, Christian, 282

Gelosi, The, in Paris, 177

Gendre de Monsieur Poirier, Le,
Augier, 298

Genoveva, Hebbel, 312

Geoffrey of Monmouth, as source
of plots, 15, 232

George Barnwell, The History of,
Lillo, 262

George Sand, Moeller, 359

George a Greene, Pinner of Wake-
field, 200

German clowns, 281

German editors of Shakespeare,
231

German plays in America, 352
Gesta Romanorum, source of plots,
232
Ghosts, Ibsen, 318
first performance of, 324
Giacometti, Pietro, 313
Giacosa, Giuseppe, 333
Gigantomachia, 57
Gillette, William, 357
Gtoconda, La, D’Annunzio, 334
Giovanni da Procida, Niccolini, 314
Girl of Andros, The, translated,
187
Girl with the Green Eyes, The,
Fitch, 356
Gladiator, The, Bird, 354
Glance Towards Shakespeare, A,
quoted, 233
Glaspell, Susan, 359
Globe Theater, 210
Glorieux, Le, Destouches, 273
“Glorification of the harlot,” 298
Glory, D’Annunzio, 334
Gluck im Winkel, Das, Suder-
mann, 329
Godard, Jean, 177
God Loves Us, 360
God’s Merciful Promises, 184
Gods of the Mountain, The, Dun-
sany, 345
Godfrey, Thomas, 352
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von,
285
connection with the Weimar
Theater, 288
quoted on Shakespeare, 223
Gogol, N. V., 348
Golden Doom, The, Dunsany, 345
Golden Fleece, The, Grillparzer,
311
Goldoni, Carlo, 276
Goldsmith, Oliver, 264
Good Natured Man, The, Gold-
smith, 265
Goose Hangs High, The, Beach,
359

Gorboduc, 190

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ba

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)
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}
/450
Gorky, Maxim, 349

Gosson, Stephen, criticism on six-
teenth century plays, 205
Gottsched, Johann Christoph, 281
Gotz von SBerlichingen, Goethe,
286

Gozzi, Carlo, 276

Grabbe, Christian, 311

Grahame, Kenneth, on Carnival
mummers, 138

Great Divide, The, Moody, 357

Greene, Robert, 215

author of romantic comedy, 201
Greek comedy, general nature of,

Greek drama, subjects of, 70
Helen, in Faust, 288
myths collected, 11

, plays in England and

ica, 341
theater, description of, 71
treatment of love, 70

Gregory, Lady, work of, 344
founder of Abbey Theater, 324

Grein, J. E., 324

Grillparzer, Franz, 310

Grimstad, home of Ibsen, 318

Groatsworth o Wit, A, Greene,

225

“Grotesquerie,’ 367

Grundy, Mrs., origin of, 305

Guardians, The, Menander, 58

Guarini, 157

Gubernatis, Angelo de, 314

Guilds in medieval drama, 135

Gull’s Horn Book, The, Dekker,

240

Gummere, F. C., quoted, 244

Gutzkow, Karl, 312

Guzman, Orrery, 252

Gyges and His Ring, Hebbel, 312

Gymnase Théatre, scene of Scribe’s

successes, 297

Amer-

Haigh, quoted on A¢schylus, 32
Hairy Ape, The, O'Neill, 361
Hale, E. E., Jr., on tragedy, 326

INDEX

Halévy, Ludovic, 301
Hall, John, married Judith Shake-
speare, 226

Hamburg Dramaturgy, Lessing,
283
Hamlet, Shakespeare, 227
source of plot, 232
Hannele’s Journey to Heaven,

Hauptmann, 328

Hans Wurst, coarseness of, 281

Haphazard, 186 [329

Happiness in a Corner, Sudermann,

Hardy, Alexander, influence of,
168

Harlequin, 156

Hardy, Thomas, 306

Harrowing of Hell, The, 133

Hauptmann, Gerhardt, 327

Havemeyer, Loomis, on drama of
Savage peoples, 4

Haymarket Theater, 260

Hazel Kirke, Mackaye, 356

Hazelton and Benrimo, 359

Hearts of Oak, Herne, 355

Hebbel, Friedrich, 312

Hebbel’s protest against artificial
drama, 317

Heiberg, Johan Ludwig, 315

Heimat, Sudermann, 329

Heinrich the Bell-caster, 327

Heir at Law, The, Colman, 304

Held by the Enemy, Gillette, 357

Heldenbuch, 13

Helena, Euripides, 46 [359

Hell Bent for Heaven, Hughes,

Heminge, John, editor of the First
Folio, 228

Hemlock, The, Augier, 297

Henrietta, The, Howard, 356

Henry V, Shakespeare, 199

Henri III et sa cour, Dumas, 294

Henry VI, Shakespeare, 199, 225

Henslowe’s employment of play-
wrights, 211

Henslowe as producer, 196

as manager (note), 236
concerning Dekker, 240ope rae

INDEX

Hereditary Forester, The, Lud-
wig, 312
Hernani, Hugo, 295
Herne, James A., 355
Hero and Leander, Marlowe, 219
Herod, Phillips, 244
Heroes of the Restoration drama,
257
Heroic, drama, 251
drama parodied, 253
couplet, 251
He Who Gets Slapped, Andreyev,
349
Heywood, John, 185
as writer of interludes, 144
author of tragedy of blood, 197
Hidden Spring, The, Bracco, 335
High Life Below Stairs, Townley,
264
Hindu play, quotation from, 99
Hippolytus, Euripides, 46
Seneca, 148
Historia Brevis, Walsingham, 15
Historia Britonum, source of Gor-
boduc, 190
Historia Regum Brittannie, 15
Historical drama in Italy, 314
Historical themes, importance of,
17
History of the Early American
Theater, Dunlap, 353
History as plot material, 15
Histriomastix, Marston, 242
Histrio, origin of word, 78
Hoffman, 196
Hoffmannsthal, Hugo von, 329
Hofteufel, J. C., 280
Holberg, Ludwig, 290
influenced by Italian comedy, 157
Holinshed’s Chronicle, source of
Arden of Faversham, 197
source of Macbeth, 232
general popularity of, 15
Homeric poems, as source of plots,

Home Sweet Home, Payne, 353
Home, John, 261

451

Howe, Julia Ward, 355

Honest Criminal, The, Jovellanos,
278

Honor, Sudermann, 328

Honors bestowed on Voltaire, 270

Hope Theater, 210

Hopi Indians, Rain Dance, 6

Horace, maxims of, 90

Horniman, Miss, theater in Man-
chester, 324

Hotel de Bourgogne, patronized
by Richelieu, 168

House of Atreus, legend, 11

House of Life, The, Quintero, 336

Housman, Laurence, collaborator
with Barker, 342

Howard, Bronson, 356

Howard, Sir Robert, 252

Hughes, Hatcher, 359

Hughes, Thomas, 192

Hugo, Victor, 294

Humanity, an interlude, 139

Hunchback, The, Knowles, 304

Hundred Plays of the Kin and
Yuen Dynasties, 103

Huneker, James, on Ibsen, 317

Hyacinth Halvey, Gregory, 344

Ibsen, Henrik, 317
“adapted” in England, 308
in Germany, 322
friendship with Bjornson, 318
influence on English writers, 308
liberation from French technique,
319
Icebound, Davis, 359
Ideal Wife, The, Praga, 333
Idomenée, Crebillon, 269
If Not Thus, Pirandello, 335
Iliad, translation dedicated to Con-
greve, 256 [280
Imitation, of Plautus in Germany,
of Shakespeare in Russia, 347
of oriental plays, 359
Importance, of Beaumont
Fletcher, 239
of Voltaire, 272

and452

Importance of Being Earnest, The,
Wilde, 338
In a Balcony, Browning, 307
Increasing, decency of the stage,
371
refinement of French stage, 172
Indebtedness of playwrights to
Lope de Vega, 163
Independent theaters, 323
Indian Queen, The, Dryden, 252
Indian Emperor, The, or the Con-
quest of Mexico by the Span-
iards, Dryden, 252
Indian legends in American plays,
359
Inez de Castro, Hugo, 294
Influence, of Lope de Vega, 162
of Dryden, 253
of Lillo and Moore in Europe,
262
of Lessing in Germany, 285
of romanticism in Italy, 314
of Shaw, 340
of Pushkin in Russia, 347
of the Théatre Libre, 324
Inheritors, The, Glaspell, 359
In Mizzoura, Thomas, 356
Inscription on monument at Strat-
ford, 226
Insect Play, The, the Capeks, 367
Inspector General, The, Gogol, 348
Interlude of Vice Concerning Ho-
restes, Pikering, 186
Interlude, subjects of, 184
Interlude de Clerico et Puella, 143
Interpretation, of Aristotle, Les-
sing, 284
of Chekhov’s plays, 365
In the Depths, Gorky, 349
In the Porter’s Lodge, Verga, 333
In the Shadow of the Glen, Synge,
345
Introduction to the First Folio, 229
Intruder, The, Maeterlinck, 331
“Invention” of the actor, 21
Inventory of a Perugian monas-

tery, 128

INDEX

Iphigenia, theme used, 12
Iphigenia in Tauris, Goethe, 287
imitated in Italian, 149
Irving, Washington, as
rator, 128
Isle of Dogs, The, Nash, 218
Italian, comedy, 149, 150
tragedy, early, 148
opera in England, 262
players in Germany, 281
Italians histrionic rather than dra-
matic, 313
Italy, as the home of learning, 177
Iris, Pinero, 308
“Trish Helen,’ The, 344
Irish, Literary Theater, 343
National Theater, 343
Players, 343
Irony in Greek drama, 70
Irving, Sir Henry, 307

collabo-

Jack Juggler, 187

Jacob, Edward, on authorship of
Arden of Faversham, 197

James II, denunciation of actors,
259

James IV, King
Greene, 216

Jameson, Storm, quoted, 292

Japanese drama, brilliant period
of, 106

Jeanne d’Arc, Mackaye, 358

Jefferson, Joseph, 355

Jest, The, Benelli, 335

Jew of Malta, The, Marlowe, 219

as type of tragedy of blood, 196
first performed, 210

Job as drama, 10

Jocasta, Dolce, translated, 187

Jodelle, 168

John a Kent and John a Cumber,
Munday, 201

John Street Theater built, 352

Joint plays of Beaumont
Fletcher, 238

Jones, Henry Arthur, 308

Jones, Inigo, 204

of Scotland,

andINDEX

Jones, R. E., 366
Jones, Sir William, 99
Jonson, Ben, 235
eulogy on Shakespeare, 229
influence of later writers, 237
involved in the War of the Thea-
ters, 169
as writer of masques, 204
Jovellanos, Gaspar Melchor de,
278
Judith (Apocrypha), regarded as
drama, 280
Judith, Hebbel, 312
Juggler of Notre Dame, legend
of, 123
Jumeaux, Les, Hugo, 296
Justice, Galsworthy, 341
Julian the Apostate,
towards theater, 91

attitude

Kabale und Liebe, Schiller, 289

Kalidasa, 101

Kamerny Theater, 368

Kean, Charles, visit to America,
353

Kean, Edmund, visit to America,
353

Kelly, Hugh, 264

Kemble, Charles
America, 353

Kemble, John, in De Montfort, 304

in The Stranger, 285

Kennedy, Charles Rann, 358

“Kidnapping,” school of comedy,
152

Killigrew, Thomas, 250

Kindling, Kenyon, 359

King Argimenes, Dunsany, 345

King Hunger, Andreyev, 349

King John, Shakespeare, 198

King John, Bale, 198

King John, interlude, 186

King Lear, “improved,” 264

King Lear, Shakespeare, 227

“King Leir,” source of, 15

Kiotsugu, Kwanami, 108

Kismet, Knoblauch, 359

and Fanny, in

453

Kleist, Heinrich von, 310

Klinger, Friedrich yon (note), 282

Klopstock in Denmark, 291

Knighthood and chivalry in drama,
286

Knights of the
legends of, 13

Knoblauch, Edward, 359

Knowles, James Sheridan, 304

Komos, 7

Kotzebue, August Friedrich, 285

Kummer, Clare, 360

Kyd, Thomas, life and work, 214

Kyd’s Spanish Tragedy, 194

Round Table,

Labdacide myth, 12

La Chaussée, Pierre Claude de,
273

La Cruz, Ramon de, 279

L’Aiglon, Rostand, 332

Lady of Lyons, The, Bulwer, 304

Lady Windermere’s Fan, Wilde,
338
Land of Heart's Desire, The,

Yeats, 344
Landgrave of Cassel, built first
court theater, 281
Lang, Andrew, on Moliére, 177
Language, in Synge’s plays, 344
in Hindu plays, 100
Larrivey, Pierre de, 177
Lasca, Il, criticism of Italian com-
edy, 153
Latin, plays given before Queen
Elizabeth, 190
in Germany, 281
playwrights after Seneca, 91
tragedies given in England,
190
Lazzi, in Commedia del’ Arte, 154
Leaders in dramatic study in
America, 370
Lear, source of plot, 232
Legge, Doctor, 199
Legend of Aladdin, 315
Legend of the House of Atreus,
11454

Legends included in the
Cycle, 11
Leipzig School, The, 282
L’Enfant Prodigue, Voltaire, 270
Length of French miracles, 123
Leonard, Brisbarre and Nus, 305
Leonora or the World’s Own,
Howe, 355
Leo X, patron of the theater, 150
built theater in Rome, 152
Le Sage, 273
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, 283
encouraged by Barnwell, 263
Letters to Piso, Horace, 89
Lewis, “Monk,” 302
“Lewter” impersonated, 184
Liar, The, Corneille, 171
Liar, The, Foote, 263
Libation Pourers, The, Aeschylus,
30
Liberty extolled in Cato, 261
Librettos of Metastasio, 277
Licensing, Elizabethan plays, 208,
247
Act, The, 263
Life and Death of Thomas Lord
Cromwell, 200
Life of Ibsen, 317
Life of Man, The, Andreyev, 349
Life Is a Dream, Calderon, 165
Lillo, George, 262
Lines on Shakespeare’s tomb, 226
Linley, Elizabeth, 265
Lion and the Mouse, The, Klein,
359
Little Journey, A, Crothers, 359
Literary or “closet” drama in Eng-
land, 306
Little Clay Cart,
date, 100
Little Orphan of the House of
Tchao, The, 105
Little Minister, The, Barrie, 342
“Little Theater” movement, 325
used by Fielding, 263
Livius Andronicus, producer of the
first formal play in Rome, 80

Ebic

The, probable

INDEX

Livy, source of plots, 15

Locrine, 194

Lodge, Thomas, 214

London Assurance, Boucicault, 355

London in Shakespeare’s time, 225

London Merchant, The, Lillo, 262

in France, 274

Looking Glass for London, A,
Lodge and Greene, 215

Lope de Rueda, 160

Lope de Vega, 160-163

Lord Governance and Lady Public
Weal, 184

Lord Lytton (Edward Bulwer),
304

Lost in Darkness, Bracco, 335
Louis XIV and Moliére, 178
Love and Intrigue, Schiller, 289
Love for Love, Congreve, 256
Love Is Enough, Morris, 306
Love of liberty, in Alfieri, 278
in Voltaire, 272
Love of the Three Kings, Benelli,
335
Love without Stockings, Wessel,
291
Love’s Comedy, Ibsen, 318
Love’s Labour’s Lost, Shakespeare,
227
original in plot, 231
Love’s Martir, Marston and Jon-
son, 241
Lucrece, Shakespeare, 227
Lucréce Borgia, Hugo, 296
Lucky Pehr, Strindberg, 323
Ludwig, Otto, 312
Luise, Giacosa, 333
Lully, operas produced in London,
250
Lust’s Dominion, 196 [280
Luther’s opinion of the theater,
Lyly, John, author of court com-
edies, 202, 214
Lynd, Robert, quoted, 177

Macbeth, Shakespeare, 227
source of plot, 232INDEX

MacCready, William, 353

MacDowell, Edward A., quoted, 6

MacGowan, Kenneth, on the na-
ture of drama, 280

Machiavelli, 151

“Machine,” The, 72

MacKail, J. W., on Latin poetry,
78

MacKaye, Percy, 357

Mackaye, Steele, 356

Macklin, Charles, 264

Mad World, My Masters, A, Mid-
dleton, 242

Mad Hercules, The, Seneca, 87

Madame Butterfly, Giacosa, 333

Madras House, The, Barker, 342

Maeterlinck, Maurice, 330

Maffei, Scipione, 277

Magazine of Faithful Retainers,
The, 110

Magda, Sudermann, 329

Magistrate, The, Pinero, 307

Mahabharata, The, source of plots,
13

Maid of Orleans, The, Schiller,
289

Maidens of Trachis, The, Soph-
ocles, 38

Mak the Sheep Stealer, 142

Malade imaginaire, Le, Moliére,
179

Malay play, 3

Malquerida, La, Benevente, 336

Man and Superman, Shaw, 340

Man from Home, The, Tarkington
and Wilson, 360

Man of Destiny, The, Shaw, 340

Man of the World, The, Macklin,
264

Manchester Theater, The, 324

Mandragola, Machiavelli, 151

Manly, Mrs., 258

Mannheim Theater, The, 289

Man's World, A, Crothers, 359

Mansfield, Richard, 356

“Mansions” on _ medieval

126

stage,

455

Mantzius, Karl, on English sacred
plays, 134
Manzoni, Alessandro, 313
Masqueraders, The, Pinero, 308
Matthew Merigreek, 188
Matthews, Brander, leader of dra-
matic study in America, 370
quoted on Moliére, 181
quoted on Lope de Vega, 162
on Greek drama, 77
on Aristophanes, 51
Matthison, Edith Wynne, in
Everyman (note), 139
in Chinese play (note), 106
Marais, Theater in the, 169
Marenco, Leopoldo, 314
Margery Mumblecrust, 188
Marguerite, in Faust, 288
Mariage d’Olympe, Augier, 299
Maria Stuart in Scotland, Bjorn-
son, 316
Marie Antoinette, actor in Figaro,
275
Marie Antoinette, Giacometti, 313
Marionette plays in Germany, 281
in Japan, 109
Marie Tudor, Hugo, 296
“Marivaudage,” 273
Marviaux, Pierre Carlet de, 273
Marks, Josephine Preston Peabody,
357
Marlowe, Christopher, life and
work, 218 ff.
improvement of blank verse, 221
improvement of chronicle play,
199
Marlowe, Julia, in Jeanne d’Arc,
358
Marlowe, Mrs. Marks, 357
Marquina, Edouardo, 337
Marriage of Figaro, The, Beau-
marchais, 275
Marston, John, 241
Martyrdoms of the Apostles, 125
Mary Magdalen plays, 127
Mary Magdalene, Hebbel, 317
Masefield, John, 341456

Masks, used by Thespis, 22
in Italian comedy, 155
Masque, Elizabethan, 203
Masques in America, 358
Massacre of Paris, The, Marlowe,
219
Massenmensch, Toller, 367
Massinger, Philip, 243
Master Builder, The, Ibsen, 318
Master Olaf, Strindberg, 322
Masuccio, 231
Mater, Mackaye, 358
Maturin, Charles Robert, 302
“Maturin’s Bedlam,” 303
Measure for Measure, source of
plot, 232
Medea, Seneca, 87
Grillparzer, 311
Medieval, sacred drama, 133 ff.
cycles, 133
farces, subjects of, 142
stage, arrangement of, 126
romances, source of, 13
secular plays, 140
puppet plays, 144
Mediocrity of sacred plays, 136
Meilhac, Henri, 301
Melampe, Holberg, 290
Melodrama, in France, 293
in Italy, 313
Menander, 58
Menechmi, given at Ferrara, 148
Menschenhass und Reue, Kotzebue,
285
Mermaid Tavern group, 235
Merope, Maffei, 277
Voltaire, 270
Merry Devil of Edmonton, 201
Merry Play between Johan the
Husband, etc., 185
Merry Wives of Windsor, Shake-
speare, 231
Messaline, Cossa, 314
Messenger, in pseudo-classic plays,
272
praised by Sidney, 193
Metamora, Stone, 354

INDEX

Metastasio, 277
Michael and His
Jones, 308

Midchannel, Pinero, 308
Middle Comedy, names of writers
preserved, 57
Middleton, Thomas, 242
Miles Gloriosus, 156
imitated by Udall, 187
Millar, J. H., quoted, 260
Mimes in Rome, 94
Minna von Barnhelm, Lessing, 283
Minor, The, Foote, 263
Miracle of Theophilus, 219
an earlier Faust, 122
Miracles, of St. Nicholas, 124
of Our Lady, 122
Miracle plays, in France, 122
leave the altar, 124
Miseries of Enforced
The, 198
Misfortunes of Arthur, The, 192
Miss Sara Sampson, Lessing, 283
Mode of giving seventeenth cen-
tury plays, 181
Modern miracle play, 331
“Modernism,” 367
Moeller, Philip, 359
Moliére, Jean Baptiste de Poquelin
de, life and work, 178 ff.
and the critics, 180
influenced by Italian comedy,
157
influence on later playwrights,
181
Monasteries broken up, 189
Money, Bulwer, 304
Monna Vanna, Maeterlinck, 331
theme (note), 110
Moody, William Vaughn, 357
Moonflower, The, Akins, 359
Moore, Edward, 263
Moral ideals of Ibsen, 320
Morality, The, 138
construction of, 139
Moratin the younger, 279
Moratin the elder, 278

Lost Angel,

Marriage,INDEX

More, Sir Thomas, subject of play,
200

Morton, James Madison, 305

Moscow Art Theater, 349, 365

Motokiyo, Seami, 108

Mountjoy, Christopher, 226

Mourning Bride, The, Congreve,
256

Movable machinery
stage, 250

Mrs. Warren’s Profession, Shaw,
339

Munday, Anthony, 200

Murray, Gilbert, on Greek tragedy,
48

Mirrayaee: Gee 345

Murphy, Arthur, in
comedy, 264

Murry, J. Middleton, literary as-
pects of drama, 61

Music in early sacred plays, 121

Mussato of Padua, 148

Musset, Alfred de, 301

Mystical note in Russian drama,
351

Mythology, as source of plots, 10

on London

sentimental

Nevius, 80

Naogeorg, Thomas, 280

Nash, Thomas, 218

Nathan the Wise, Lessing, 284

“Nationalist” school in Germany,
283

Nationalization of
ters, 368

Native subjects used in America,
356

“Naturalistic” theater advocated by
Zola, 329

“Naturalist” school represented by
Strindberg, 322

Nature of early sacred plays, 121

Neilson and Thorndike, on Eliza-
bethan drama, 207

Neo-classic school, strength of, 176

Nero, Cossa, 314

Neuber, Frederika C., 282

Russian thea-

457

New Comedy, Greek, 57
New England legend in play, 358
New Place, purchased by Shake-
speare, 225
New Park Theater founded, 355
New Century Theater in New
York, 363
New York Idea, The, Mitchell,
359
“New Shakespeare,” The, 304
New Way to Pay Old Debts, A,
Massinger, 243
Newington Butts, Theater, 210
scene of first productions, 200
Nibelungs, Song of the, 13
Niccolini, Giovanni, 314
Nice People, Crothers, 359
Nietzsche, quoted, 20
Nigger, The, Sheldon, 359
Night Asylum, The, Gorky, 349
Night at an Inn, A, Dunsany, 345
Nobleman, The, Tourneur, 244
Nomenclature in biblical plays,
general, 118
in England, 132
in France, 122
in Germany, 129
n Italy, 128
n Spain, 130
Nomenclature in secular plays in
Germany, 141
No plays of Japan, 106, 107
founded on sacred legends, 13
No play quoted, 99
Non-commercial theaters, 324
North, Sir Thomas, translator of
Plutarch, 15, 232
Norse mythology first
drama, 315
“Northern Aristophanes,” 319
Norton, Thomas, 190
Norwegian theater in Christiania,
318
Nos Intimes, Sardou, 300
Not So Long Ago, Richman, 360
Novelle, Italian, as source of plots,
14

bnde beds

used in458

Numancia, Cervantes, 160
Nus, Eugene, 305

Oberammergau (note), 136
Objections to playhouses
bethan), 208
Octoroon, The, Boucicault, 355
Cdipe, Voltaire, 269
(Edipus the King, Sophocles, 39
(Edipus, Dryden, 253
Corneille, 171
use of plot, 40
(Edipus at Colonos, Sophocles, 42
Ohlenschlager, Adam, 315
O’Kelly, Seumas, 345
Old Bachelor, The, Congreve, 256
Old Comedy, chorus granted, 52
Greek, 52 ff.
Old Fortunatus, Dekker, 240
Old Homestead, The, Thompson,
356
Old Southwark Theater built, 352
Old Testament Prophets, in sacred
plays, 120
Old Wives’ Tale, The, Peele, 218
Ole Bull, patron of Ibsen, 318
Oliphant, Mrs., concerning Ber-
tram, 303
O’Neill, Eugene, 360
On Trial, Reizenstein, 359
Opportunity given by independent
theaters, 325
Oresteia, The, Aeschylus, 11, 30
Orestes, Rucellai, 149
Orestes, theme used, 12
Oreste, Voltaire, 271
Origin of Faust legend, 219
Orlando Furioso versified, 215
Oroonoko, Behn, 258
Orphan, The, Otway, 254
Orphan of the House of Tchao,
The Little, 106, 270
Ostrovsky, A. N., 348
Othello, Shakespeare, 227
source of plot, 232
played by Forrest, 353
Otway, Thomas, 254

(Eliza-

INDEX

Outward Bound, Vane, 359
Ownership of plays (Elizabethan),
211

Pacuvius, 81

Pageants in England, 134

Paid in Full, Walter, 359

Palace of Pleasure, The, 14

Palliate, 80

Pamphlets against theaters, 248

Pandosto, Greene, 215

Pantalone, 155

Pantomimes in Rome, 94

Paolo and Francesca, Phillips, 343

Paracelsus, 220 [252

Paradise Lost arranged for opera,

Parallelism in Chinese poetry, 104

Park Theater opened, 353

Parody, of Euripides, 53

of heroic drama, 253

Passion of Christ, 136

Passion Flower, The, Benevente,
336

Pastor Fido, Guarini, 157

as model for English pastorals,

201

Pastoral drama in Italy, 157

Pastorals (Elizabethan), 201

Pattes de mouche, Les, Sardou,
300

Payne, John Howard, 353

Paynter, William, 14, 231

Peele, George, 217

Peer Gynt, Ibsen, 318

Pelleas and Melisande,
linck, 331

Peoples’ theaters in America, 363

Performances (Elizabethan), time
and manner, 212

Pepys, Samuel, plays witnessed by,
251

Pére de famille, Le, Diderot, 274

Pericles, in Shakespeare canon, 229

Periods of Shakespeare’s activity,
227

Persians, The, AEschylus, 28

Peter Pan, Barrie, 342

Maeter-INDEX 459

Petimetra, Moratin, 279
Petronius, on a Roman banquet, 89
as source of plots, 241
Phédre, Racine, 176
Philaster, Beaumont and Fletcher,
238
Philemon, Greek playwright, 58
Philip II, forbade secular plays,
161
Philistines, The, Gorky, 349
Phillips, Stephen, 342
Philosophe marié, Le, Destouches,
273
Philosophy of Ibsen, 321
Philotas, Daniel, 192
Philoctetes, Sophocles, 41
Phrynicus, 23
Pickle-herring as clown, 281
Pierre Pathelin, Farce of, 142
Pierrot, 156
Pigeon, The, Galsworthy, 341
Pigments, used by Thespis, 22
Pikering, writer of interludes, 186
Pillars of Society, Ibsen, 318
Pinero, Sir Arthur Wing, 307
Pindemonte brothers, 314
Piper, The, Mrs. Marks, 357
Piracy, of plays, 211
of Lessing’s Essays, 283
of Elizabethan successes, 305
Pirandello, Luigi, 335
Piron, 273
Pisistratidez, caused myths to be
collected, 11
Pixérécourt, Guilbert de, 293
Pizarro, Sheridan, 285
Jefferson as actor in, 355
Plagiarism, charged against Shake-
speare, 225
Plague, visitations of, 246
performances forbidden during,
208
Plain Dealer, The, Wycherley, 255
Platen, Count von, writer of paro-
dies, 311
Plautus and His Century, Cossa,
314

Plautus, rediscovered, 148
Plautus, plots, themes, and life, 82,
83, 84
Playboy of the Western World,
The, Synge, 345
Play of the Pardoner and the
Friar, 185
Play of the Ten Virgins (Ger-
man), 123, 129
Play-acting, in Christian ritual, 115
Playbills (Elizabethan), 212
Playhouses (Elizabethan), 210
Plays of special localities in Amer-
ica, 359
Plays on the Passions, Baillie, 303
Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant,
Shaw, 340
Playwrights, of the Elizabethan
stage, 225
introduced by the independent
theaters, 324
Playwriting, a family tradition, 66
Pleasant Commodie of Fair Em,
The, Greene, 201
Plutarch, as source of plots,
used by Shakespeare, 232
translated into English, 15
Plutus, Aristophanes, performed in
England, 186
at Zurich, 280
Holberg, 290
Pocohontas and the Settlers of
Virginia, Custis, 354
Poe, Edgar Allan, criticism on
Fashion, 354
Poetaster, The, Jonson, 241
Poetic drama, revived in Spain, 336,
369
unsuited to the stage, 306
in America, 357
in England, 306
Poggio, Bracciolini, 148
Policy, of the Irish theater, 343
of the Leipzig School, 282
Political, struggles unfavorable to
drama, 313
unity in the Middle Ages, 117

—

}
ea
3
ra

|460

Political situation in Norway and
Denmark, 290
Political Pewterers, The, Holberg,
290
Pollock, Channing, 358
Polly, Gay, 262
Pompignan, 269
Poor Carpenter, The, Marquina,
337
Pope, as editor of Shakespeare,
230
Popular heroes, plays concerning,
200
Popularity, of theater in Eliza-
bethan London, 207
of the study of the classics in
France, 167
of Sheridan’s Pizarro, 302
of melodrama in France, 293
of Mrs. Tanqueray, 308
of French plays in England, 305
of Salome by Wilde, 338
of sacred plays, 120
Porpora, teacher of
277
Position of Sophocles among the
ancients, 42
Poverty Is No Crime, Ostrovsky,
348
Potash and Perlmutter plays, Glass,
360
Powers of Darkness, The, Tolstoi,
348
Practice of “improving,” Shake-
speare, 251
Pretexte, 80
Praga, Marco, 333
Praise of Elizabeth in plays, 218
Pratinas, 23
Précieuses ridicules, Les, Moliére,
179
Précieuses, Les, influence of, 169
Prefaces of Dryden, 253
Prémaire, Joseph, discoverer of
Chinese play, 105
Presenter, The, 218
Preservation of Greek plays, 64

Metastasio,

INDEX

Prestige of French plays, 268

Price of admission to Elizabethan
theater, 212

Primitive, plays, a school for youth,

nature of medieval drama, 118
Primo amoroso, in Italian comedy,
156
Prince of Parthia, Godfrey, 352
Principles of the drama, Freytag,
312
Hugo, 295
Lessing, 284
Prinz von Homburg, Kleist, 310
Prizes in Greek competitions, 73
Proagon, 74
Prodigal Son, The, Waldis, 130
Productions on the Weimar stage,
288
Professional actors more esteemed,
210
Progress of dramatic art in cycles,
17
Prometheus Bound, ZEschylus, 29
Prometheus, legend used, 12
Promos and Cassandra, lost ver-
sion of, 205
Protest against
France, 168
Proteus, Aeschylus, 30
Provincetown Players, 363, 354
(note)
Prunella, Barker and Housmann,
342
Pseudo-classicism, in Voltaire, 271
parodied, 311
Punch and Sir John
144
Punchinello, 155
Puppet shows, in England, 144
in Japan, 109
in Germany, 281
Purity of the Elizabethan stage,
209
Pursuit of learning in Elizabethan
England, 183
Pushkin, Alexander, 347

classicism in

Spendall,INDEX 461

Ouality Street, Barrie, 342
Quartos, The, 227
Queen Elizabeth’s, learning, 183
policy regarding playhouses, 209
Queen Dido, Marlowe and Nash,
219
Queen Mary’s attitude towards the
theater, 208
Queen’s Enemies, The, Dunsany,
345
Quinault, 178
produced in London, 250
Quiney, Thomas, 226
Quinn, Arthur H., authority on
American drama, 352
Quintero brothers, 336, 368

Racial conflicts represented in
American plays, 359

Racine, Jean, life and work, 172-
175

Rain Dance of the Hopi Indians,
6

Raleigh, Sir Walter, on Shake-
speare, 223

Ralph Roister Doister, 188

reincarnation of the bragging

soldier, 150

Rambouillet, Marquise de, 169

Ravens, The, Becque, 330

Realism on the American stage,
365

Rebhun, Paul, 130, 280

Recitations from Terence, Book
of, 187

Recruiting Officer, The, performed
in America, 352

Red Bull Theater, 210

Red Robe, The, Brieux, 330

Red Carnation, The, Fogazzaro,
334

Rediscovery of ancient plays, 148

Regnard, 269

Regulation of troupes of actors
(Elizabethan), 208

Rehearsal, The, parody on heroic
drama, 254

Reicher, Frank, 358
Reinhardt, Max, 366
Rejuvenation of English theater,
338
Religious, plays in America, 358
unity in the Middle Ages, 117
Renewed life in American drama,
363
Replies to A Short View, 259
Repudiation of the “well-made
play,” 326
Restoration, The, 249
comedy, 257
wits, 255
Restrictions on Spanish theater re-
moved, 278
Revisor, Gogol, 348
Revival, of classic rules and sub-
jects, 148
of poetic drama in England,
303
Revenge of Bussy d’Ambois, The,
Chapman, 241
Revenger's Tragedy, The, Tour-
neur, 244
Revolt, against artificial drama in
Spain, 336
against realism in stage settings,
366
against traditional stage business,
367
Rhadamiste et Zénobie, Crébillon
the elder, 269
Rhesus (sometimes attributed to
Euripides), 46
Rhymed couplet, The, 251
Ricardus Tertius, Dr. Legge, 199
Richard Savage, Gutzkow, 312
Richelieu, Bulwer, 304
Richman, Arthur, 360
Riders to the Sea, Synge, 345
Right You Are, if You Think You
Are, Pirandello, 335
Rigoletto, Verdi, 295
Rip Van Winkle, Boucicault, 355
Rise of the Moon of Knowledge,
The (Hindu play), 102

@
i
3
i
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|462

Rising of the Moon, The, Gregory,
344
Ritchie, Anna Cora Mowatt, 354
Rivals, The, Sheridan, 266
Rivas, Linares, 336
Road House in Arden, A, Moel-
ler, 359
Robbers, The, Schiller, 288
Robertson, Thomas, 305
Robin Hood, plays, 200
medieval play, 142
Robinson, Lennox, 345
Rot s’amuse, Le, Hugo, 295
Romantic, School in Germany, 286
comedies (Elizabethan), 201
Romanticism, defined, 292
in France, 293
in Italy, 313
in work of Barrie, 342
in work of Rostand, 332
Romantic Gedipus, Platen, 311
Roman, spectacles, 93
plays, time, costumes, stage-set-
tings, 92
plays, how financed, 94
Romeo and Juliet, first stage ver-
sion, 205
rewritten, 177
source of plot, 14, 231
Roo, John, imprisoned, 184
Rosamunda d’Ingliterra, Niccolini,
314
Rose Theater, built, 210
Round Table, Knights of the, 13
Roscius, 81
Rostand, Edmond, 332
Roswitha, imitator of Terence, 85
(note), 116
Rotebeeuf, 122
Rousseau, opinion of Barnwell, 263
Rowe, Nicholas, editor of Shake-
speare, 230
Royal protection of stage, 247
Rozeno Family, The, Traversi,
334
Rucellai, 149
R.U.R., The Capeks, 367

INDEX

Russian drama reflects national
life, 350

Ruy Blas, Hugo, 296

Sachs, Hans, 143
Sackville, Thomas, 190
Sacred books as sources of plot, 13
Sacred plays brought to England,
132
Sacre rappresentazione, 128
Sag Harbor, Herne, 355
Saint Paul, Bovio, 314
St. Hilary, writer of Latin plays,
116
Sad Shepherd, The, Jonson, 202
Saint-Beuve, comment on Racine,
175
St. Francis of Assisi, presenter of
Christmas play, 119
Sakuntala, Kalidasa, 102
translated into English, 99
source of plot, 13
Saladin, in Nathan the Wise, 284
Salome, Wilde, 338
Salvation Nell, Sheldon, 359
Salvini, in Civil Death, 313
Samaritan Woman, The, Rostand,
332
Sandeau, Jules, 298
Sanskrit drama, brilliant period of,
101
Santayana, George, on the function
of poetry, 27
Sappho and Phaon, Mackaye, 358
Saratoga, Howard, 356
Sardou, Victorien, 300
Satiromastix, Dekker, 241
Saturae, 79
Satyr-play, 23
Saurin, 269
Scarecrow, The, Mackaye, 358
Scarron, 178
Scenes of violence, in Japanese
plays, 109
in Chinese plays, 104
in tragedy of blood, 193
absence of in Greek plays, 69INDEX

Scenery, on the Elizabethan stage,
212
costumes and finance in sacred
drama, 135
Schiller, Johann Friedrich von, 288
opinion of Lessing, 285
Schlegel’s criticism of Holberg,
291
Schnitzler, Arthur, 329
Scholar Poets, The, 214
School for Scandal, The, Sheridan,
266
School of Salamanca, 278
Schroffenstein Family, The, Kleist,
310
Schlegel, on national themes, 17
Screen scene, origin of, 266
Scribe, Eugéne, 296
Sea Gull, The, Chekhov, 349
Second Folio, plays included in,
229
Second Mrs.
Pinero, 308
Secret Service, Gillette, 357
Sedition, as clown, 186
Seeds of drama in “closet plays,”
307
Seneca, life and work, 86, 87
translated into English, 88
rediscovered in Middle
148
as model in France, 167
influence of, 88
Sentimental Comedy
264
Servant in the House, The, Ken-
nedy, 358
“Servants” licensed to give plays,
208, 210
Seven Days, 360
Seven Against
fEschylus, 29
Sex, in English drama, 306
in plays of Dumas the younger,
300
Shakespeare, John, 224
Judith, marriage of, 226

Tanqueray, The,

Ages,

(English),

Thebes, The,

463

Shakespeare, Susannah, marriage
of, 226

Shakespeare, William, life and

work, 224 ff.
as actor, 225
“improved,” 251, 272
produced in France, 272
representative of his time, 232
translated into German, 283

Shakespeare Memorial Theater,
357

Shakespeare’s, adaptability to the
stage, 233

ideal of women, 234
influence on Goethe, 286
use of historical material, 16
versatility, 232
Shakespearean editors, 230, 231
“Shakespeare of Sweden,” 323
Shaw, G. Bernard, 339
as moralist, 340
quoted, 122
Sheldon, Edward, 359
Shenandoah, Howard, 356
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 265
as manager of Drury Lane
Theater, 260
(note), 254
Sherlock Holmes, Gillette, 357
She Stoops to Conquer, Goldsmith,
265
Shirley, James, 244
Shoemaker's Holiday, The, Dek-
ker, 240
Shore Acres, Herne, 356
Shoreditch, site of Elizabethan
theaters, 210
Shorn Lamb, The, Menander, 58
Short-hand copies, 229
Short View, A, Collier, 258
Shrovetide plays, subjects of, 141
Show-Off, The, 360
Sicilian Limes, Pirandello, 335
Sidney Buddulph, Mrs. Sheridan,
265
Sidney, Sir Philip, on tragedy, 205
Siddons, Mrs., in DeMontfort, 304464

Siege of Rhodes, The, panorama,
250
Sierra, Martinez, 336
Signet of the Munster,
(Hindu play), 102
Silva, Ramon Goy de la, 336
Silver Box, The, Galsworthy, 341
Simmias of Thebes, on Sophocles,
35
Simonson, Lee, 366
Sin of David, The, Phillips, 343
Singing actor, The (Chinese), 103
Sir Fretful Plagiary, 264
Sister Beatrice, Maeterlinck, 331
Sister Beatrice, legend used, 123
Six Characters in Search of an
Author, Pirandello, 335
Skéné, origin of, 22
Skien, birthplace of Ibsen, 317
Skinner, Otis, 355
Skinner, Mrs. Otis (note), 352
Sleeping Beauty, The, Gozzi, 277
“Slice of life” in drame bourgeois,
293
Slow progress of reforms, 285
Small-town life portrayed in plays,
366
Smith, Richard Penn, 354
Snow Maiden, The, Ostrovsky, 348
Social drama in France, 296
Societa del Gonfalone, 128
Société des Sottes, 141
Society satirized in
plays, 358
Society, Robertson, 305
Sodom’s End, Sudermann, 328
Sofonisba, Trissino, 15, 149
imitated, 189
as model in France, 167
Sofonisba, Corneille, 171
Soliman and Perseda, possibly by
Kyd, 196
Solon’s opinion of the Thespian
play, 22
Sonnets of Shakespeare, 227
Sophocles, life and work, 35, 36
changes made by, 43

The

American

INDEX

Sophocles, extracts from, 43
Sophonisba, Marston, 242
Sorrows of Han, The, 106
Soul After Death, A, Heiberg, 315
Soulié, Frederick, 293
Sources, of story material used in
drama, 9
of plots used in Fletcher’s plays,
239
of Shakespeare’s plays, 231
Southwark, playhouses in, 210
Spanish drama, weaknesses of, 165
Spanish Fryar, The, Dryden, 252
Spanish Tragedy, The, Kyd, 194
“Spanish Moliére,” The, 279
Specimens of tragedy of blood,
196
Speed the Plough, Morton, 305
Spirit, Will, and Understanding,
139
Spreading the News, Gregory, 344
Spurious plays in Shakespeare
canon, 229
Stage, appliances in Greek theater,
72
machinery in Elizabethan thea-
ter, 212
seats in Elizabethan theater, 212
in “Little Theaters,” 325
machinery in medieval plays, 130
setting in early Greek plays, 31
setting in Hindu plays, 101
Stanislavsky, director, 365
State as manager in Greece, 73
Stella, Goethe, 286
Stevenson, R. L., on Hernani, 295
Stifling, Rivas, 336
Still, Dr. John, 188
Still Waters Run Deep, Taylor,
305
Stone, John A., 354
Story of the Magic Lute, The, 106
Stock characters, in Italian comedy,
150 .
in Greek comedy, 58
in miracle plays, 124
Storm and Stress School, 282INDEX

Storm, The, Ostrovsky, 348
Story of the Three Rings, 284
Stow, as source-book for plots, 15
Strafford, Browning, 307
Stranger, The, Kotzebue, 285
Stratford-on-Avon, 224
Streets o’ London, Boucicault, 355
Strength of the neo-classic school,
176
Strife, Galsworthy, 341
Strindberg, August, 322
Structure of the miracle play, 123
Study, of drama in colleges, 369
of classics in France before 1700,
167
Stukeley, Sir Thomas, as subject
of plays, 200
death portrayed, 218
Sturm und Drang period (note),
282
Subjects, used by Holberg, 290
used by O'Neill, 361
of medieval puppet plays, 144
Subsidization of American stage,
369
Successful Calamity, A, Kummer,
360
Sudermann, Hermann, 328
Sudraka, plays attributed to, 100
Sumarokov, Alexander, 347
Sumatra war play, 5
Summary of English
A, Stow, 15
Summer’s Last Will and Testa-
ment, Nash, 218
Sun Up, Vollmer, 359
Sun’s Darling, The, Ford and Dek-
ker, 244
Sunken Bell, The, Hauptmann, 327
Superiority of Italian literature
during the early Renaissance,
187
Superstitions treated in Holberg’s
plays, 290
Supper of Jokes, A (The Jest),
Benelli, 335
Suppliants, The, ZEschylus, 28

Chronicles,

465

Suppositi, Ariosto, 152
translated, 187
Suppressed Desires, Glaspell, 360
Suppression of playhouses (Eliza-
bethan), 248
Survey of London, Walsingham,
15
Susanna, Rebhun, 130
Susarion, 52
Swanwhite, Strindberg, 323
Sweet Lavender, Pinero, 307
Swinburne, on Arden of Faver-
sham, 197
on Marlowe, 219
as writer of closet drama, 307
Symbolism in Ibsen, 320
Symonds, J. A., on the influence of
the classics, 193
on the nature of art, 19
on sacred plays in Italy, 128
on sacred plays in England, 132
on the Renaissance in Italy, 147
on the Renaissance in England,
182
Symons, Arthur, on Racine, 176
Sympathetic magic, 4
Synge, John M., 344
on the nature of drama, 338
on the nature of art, 347

Tairov, manager of Russian thea-
ter, 368
Tale of a Tub, The, Jonson, 236
Tamburlaine, Marlowe, at New-
ington Butts playhouse, 219
first performance of, 210
fixed the type, 200
Taming of the Shrew, The, first
performance of, 210
early version of, 216
Tancred and Gismunda, lost ver-
sion of, 205
Tancréde, Voltaire, 270
Tarkington, Booth, 360
Tasso, Torquato, 157
Taylor, Henry Osborne, on Roman
society, 89466

Taylor, Tom, 305
Teaching in Ibsen’s plays, 319
“Tea-table”’ drama, 307
“Tearful comedy,” 264
Technique of the Drama, Freytag,
312
Temperament of Pirandello, 335
Tempest, The, Shakespeare, 227
rewritten, 253
“Tendenz-drama,” in Germany, 311
Tennyson, Alfred, 307
Telepathy, used in play, 356
Terence, life and work, 84, 85
imitated by Roswitha, 85
rediscovered, 148
Terrible Meek,
358
Terza rima, rhyme scheme (note),
149
Thayer, William Roscoe, on Eliza-
bethan plays, 239
Thédatre historique, 294
Theater The, built, 210
Theater Guild, The, 363
Théatre Libre, 323
Theaters and playhouses, in Rome,
93
in ancient Greece, 66
Théatre de Maeterlinck, 331
Theatrical exhibitions given by
Alexander the Great, 65
Themes, used by Shaw, 339
used by Synge, 345
used by Bjornson, 316
used by Rostand, 332
used by Maeterlinck, 331
used by Dunsany, 345
of unconscious drama, 8
of story-tellers, 16
of Elizabethan plays, 245
Theobald’s edition of Shakespeare,
231
Théodora, Sardou, 300
Theory of the stage, Alfieri, 277
Joanna Baillie, 303
Diderot, 274
Dumas the younger, 300

The, Kennedy,

INDEX

Theory of the stage, Hugo, 295
Hebbel, 312
Ibsen, 320
Lessing, 284
Maeterlinck, 330
Praga, 333
Shaw, 340
Verga, 333
Yeats, 343
Thespis, life and work, 20
Thespian changes, importance of,
22
Thespian play, character of, 21
This Fine Pretty World, Mackaye,
359
Thomas, Augustus, 356
Thompson, Denman, 356
Thorpe the bookseller, on Mar-
lowe, 219
Thousand Years Ago, A, Mackaye,
358
Three Daughters of M. Dupont,
The, Brieux, 330
Three of Us, Crothers, 359
Three periods of Ibsen’s work, 318
Three Sisters, The, Chekhov, 349
Ticket-of-Leave Man, The, Taylor,
305
Tieck, on authorship of Arden of
Faversham, 197
“Tigers heart wrapped in a
woman’s hide,” 225
Timon of Athens, source of plot,
232
Tintoretto, attack on Aretino, 152
Titus Andronicus, type of tragedy
of blood, 196

Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare,
227

Tobit, regarded as drama, 280

Togate, 80

Tolstoi, Count Alexei, 348

Tolstoi, Count Lyoff, 348
Torments of the Damned, The, 129
Tortesa the Usurer, Willis, 354
Torquato Tasso, Goethe, 287
Torquemada, Hugo, 296INDEX

Tosca, La, Sardou, 300

Tosca, La, Giacosa, 333

Tour de Nesle, Le, Dumas, 294

Tourneur, Cyril, 244

Townley, James, 264

Tragédie bourgeois, 268

Tragedy of Nan, The, Masefield,
341

Tragedy of blood, 193-195

Transition period in Italy, 332

Translations, by Lady Gregory, 344

of Seneca and Plautus, 187

Traversi brothers, 334

Traytor, The, Shirley, 245

Trick to Catch the Cld One, A,
Middleton, 242

Trilogy, The, 30

Trimalchio’s Dinner, quoted, 89

Trip to Scarborough, A, Sheridan,
266

Trissino, Gian Giorgio, 149

Triumph of Peace, The, Shirley,
245

Jonson, 204

Triumphs (trionfo) in Italy, 129

Trojan Women, The, Seneca, 87

Troublesome Reign of King John,
The, 198

True Tragedie of Richard Third,
198

True spirit of classicism in Mar-
lowe and Shakespeare, 222

Truth, The, Fitch, 356

Tsar Boris, Tolstoi, 348

Tsar Theodor, Tolstoi, 348

Turcaret, LeSage, 273

Turgenev, Ivan, 348

Turnébe, Odet de, 177

Twelfth Night, type of romantic
comedy, 201

Twelve lost plays of Plautus, 186

Two Gentlemen of Verona, Shake-
speare, 227

Two Tragedies in One, 197

Tyler, Royall, 352

Tyrannick Love, Dryden, 252

Types of American comedy, 360

467

Udall, Nicholas, and the first Eng-
lish comedy, 187
as writer of interludes, 144
editor of Latin reader, 187
Ulysses, Phillips, 343
Uncle Vanya, Chekhoy, 349

Unconscious drama, significance
Of 7
Une nuit de garde nationale,

Scribe, 296

Unfamiliar themes used by Vol-
taire, 270

Unities, The Three, 63

in Hindu plays, 101

University production of plays, 370

University Wits, The, 214

Upsala University, 322

Uriel Acosta, Gutzkow, 312

Valérie, Scribe, 297
Vanbrugh, Sir John, 256
Vane, Sutton, 359
Variation is text of the Folios,
229
Variety, of subjects in American
drama, 363
of plots in Voltaire, 270
Vaudeville in France, 296
Vaudeville-comédie in Italy, 334
Vaughn, C. E., on Spanish drama,
159
on Racine, 175
Vedrenne, J. E., 341
and Barker, 339
Venice Preserved, Otway, 254
quoted, 254
Venus and Adonis, Shakespeare,
227
Verdi, composer of Rigoletto, 295
Verga, Giovanni, 333
Verse used in early English trag-
edy, 149
“Virgin Queen” praised, 202
Virgins, The, Praga, 333
“Verists,’ The, 333
Verse-forms in Romeo and Juliet,
232468

Vice, as comic figure, 186
as clown in Germany, 281]
Vigny, Alfred de, 301
Virgin Martir, The, Dekker and
Massinger, 243
Virginius, Knowles, 304
Vittoria Corombona, Webster, 242
Vogue, of classicism in England,
261
of Kotzebue in England, 302
Vollmer, Lulu, 359
Voltaire, life and work, 269-271
employment of Lessing, 283
in praise of Cato, 261
Voltaire’s, “classic” formula, 271
opinion of Shakespeare, 271
Vor Sonnenaufgang, Hauptmann,
327
Vulgarities of

282

clown abolished,

Wagnerbuch added to Faust leg-
end, 220
Waldis, anti-papal playwright, 130
Wallace, G. M., concerning Shake-
speare, 226
Wallenstein plays, Schiller, 289
War dances of primitive people, 5
Warning for Fair Women, A, 196
quoted, 246
War of the Giants, The, Hegemon,
57
War of the Theaters, The, 240
Marston involved in, 242
Washington, play dedicated to, 278
Washington Square Players, 363
(note), 106
Wash Tub, The, 142
Waste, Barker, 342
Way of the World, The,
greve, 256
Webster, John, 242
Weavers, The, Hauptmann, 327
Wedekind, Franz, 329
Weimar Court Theater, 286
Well of the Saints, The, Synge,
345

Con-

INDEX

Wells, H. G., on ancient drama,
45

Wessel, Johan Herman, 291

What Every Woman Knows, Bar-
rie, 342

What You Will, Marston, 242

Wheel of Fortune, The, Cumber-
land, 264

When We Dead Awaken, Ibsen,
318

White Devil, The, Webster, 242

Why Marry, Williams, 359

Why Not, Williams, 359

Widow's Tears, The, Chapman, 241

Widowers’ Houses, Shaw, 339

Wilde, Oscar, 338

Wieland, Martin, 283

Wilhelm Tell, Schiller, 289

Williams, Jesse Lynch, 359

Willis, Nathaniel P., 354

Wilson, ‘Christopher North,” on
Miss Baillie, 304

Winter Feast, The, Kennedy, 358

Winter's Tale, A, founded on Pan-
dosto, 215

Wise and Foolish
122

Witch of Edmonton, The, 244

Virgins, The,

Witching Hour, The, Thomas,
356

Wolf of Gubbio, The, Marks,
357

Wolfenbiittel, associated with Les-
sing, 283
Woman Killed with Kindness, A,
Heywood, 197
Women, playwrights,
century, 258
playwrights in America, 359
actors in Hindu plays, 101
actors in England, 213
“Wonders” of the medieval stage,
131
Wordsworth, William, on popular
taste, 292
Workhouse Ward, The, Gregory,
344

seventeenthINDEX 469

Workshops _ provided by
Theaters, 325

World and His Wife, The, Eche-
garay, 336

World Runs on
Chapman, 241

Workmanship of Corneille, 171

Wounds of Civil War, The, Lodge
and Greene, 215

Wright, quoted on Hernani, 295

Writers of court comedies, 203

Writers of poetic drama, English,
306

American, 357
Wycherley, William, 255

Wheels, The,

Xenophon of Ephesus, 231

Yarington, Robert, 197

Little

Yeats, W. B., 344
founder of Irish National Thea-
ter, 324, 343
quoted on Irish theater, 346
Yellow Jacket, The, Hazelton and
3enrimo, 359
Yorkshire Tragedy, A, 196, 198
Young, Mrs. Winthrop, Howard,
356
Young Men’s League, first per-
formance of, 319
Young, Stark, on the Greek thea-
ter, 72

Zaire, Voltaire, 270
Zanni, in Italian comedy, 156

Zola, as preacher of “naturalism,”
317
Zwingli, 280

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