[311] De Art. Poet. ℣ 220.
[312] Instit. L. I. c. x.
[313] L. I. Sat. X. 66.
[314] Prafat. in Horatii Satiras, De Orig. & Progressu Satiræ Romanæ.
[315] Mons. _Dacier_, who borrow'd the Observation from _Is. Casaubon_,
should have mention'd some Authority for this Expression of _Leges
Saturæ_; because _Vossius_, who allows the like Use of the Word, yet
questions the Grammarians in this Instance. _Festus_ cites, _Imperium,
quod Plebes per saturam dederat, id abrogatum est_. Again, _Dein
postero die, quasi per saturam sententiis exquisitis, in deditionem
accipitur_, "ubi _per saturam_ valet collectim ac raptim. At non video,
says _Vossius_, ut hinc colligi possit, fuisse Romanis legem ullam, quæ
_satura_ diceretur."
[316] Sat. I. 85.
[317] Lib. II. Epist. I. ℣ 155.
[318] Lib. I. Sat. II. ℣ 62.
[319] _Casaubon_ expresly says, that _Horace_ imitated _Lucilius_; his
Point was not to prove that _Lucilius_'s Satires were of a different
Kind from _Horace_'s, but from _Ennius_'s. Mons. _Dacier_, on the
contrary, maintains, that the Satires of _Horace_, _Lucilius_, and
_Ennius_, were all of the same Species. And yet, I think, very hardly
reconciles his Opinion with Antiquity. He produces _Quintilian_:
_Alterum illud & prius Satiræ_ GENUS, _quod non solum Carminum varietate
mistum condidit Terentius Varro_. _Quintilian_, says he, did not suppose
that _Varro_ liv'd before _Lucilius_: What then? why he imitated
_Ennius_'s Satire, which was _alterum & prius_ GENUS, a different and
prior _Kind_ to that of _Lucilius_.
[320] _Lucilius_ made use, in the same Poem, of different Sort of
Verses: _Ennius_ of different Sort of Verses, but not in the same
Poem: _Varro_, of Prose and Verse together: _Horace_ kept to one Metre
throughout his Satires.
[321] Sat. X. 347.
[322] ℣ 363.
[323] Sat. II. 61.
[324] He says no more than _Quintilian_, l. x. as cited before, _Satira
quidem tota nostra est_; and even _Horace_, _Græcis intactum Carmen_.
[325] De Orig. & Progr. Satiræ Rom.
[326] Hist. Poet. L. II. c. ix. p. 41.
[327] ℣ 225.
[328] Instit. Poet. Lib. III. c. 9, 41.
[329] _Vossius_'s Opinion seems to be the Result of his Enquiry into
the Original of Satire, which he observes to have arose out of the old
Comedy. From whence he maintains, that the chearful bantering Humour
should be still kept up, and not be forfeited for Moroseness: And for
the same Reason, the Style should be near allied to Prose. In both which
Particulars, and indeed in all the others which he mentions, he sets
_Horace_ for an Example.
[330] Sat. I. ℣ 114.
[331] P. 40.
[332] Ibid.
[333] Lib. I. Sat. IV.
[334] P. 43.
[335] P. 44.
[336] Ibid.
[337] I don't see how _nihilo inornata_ would make more for _Vossius_'s
Sense. But do not _Horace_'s Words imply, that a Writer of Satires
should CHIEFLY use common Words, tho' he allows he is not always oblig'd
to use no other? A common Style is the general Rule, tho' there may be
some Exceptions to it.
[338] P. 40, 41.
[339] Sat I. ad finem.
[340] Lib. II. Sat. I. ℣ 1.
[341] ℣ 2.
[342] Lib. I. Sat. I.
[343] Lib. I. Ep. I.
[344] Sat. I ℣ 1.
[345] ℣ 17.
[346] ℣ 19.
[347] ℣ 158.
[348] Modern Satires will always appear with an Advantage, which the
Ancients want, _viz._ we are better acquainted with the Characters;
which is a Reason why they will please best, not of their real
Excellence.
[349] _Oldham_.
[350] _Boileau_.
LECTURE XIX, _&c._
_Of the_ DRAMA _in general_.
We are come, at last, to that Species of _Poetry_ which is chiefly
and primarily so call'd, because it agrees best with the Sense of the
original Word, ποιειν, whence _Poema_ is deriv'd. For such
is the comprehensive Signification of this Word, that it denotes not
only the Invention, but the Contexture of the Fable, the Conduct of
the Action, and the Disposal of the Parts: All which concern the two
Sorts of Poems that now remain to be discours'd of, _viz._ the Epic
and Dramatic, but more especially the latter. The former, indeed, is,
upon the whole, more noble in its Nature; but, in some Circumstances,
is inferior to the other; in the Action, particularly, as the Etymology
of the Word _Drama_, from δραν, to _act_, implies. In Epic,
indeed, Heroes and Gods are represented speaking: But the Poet there
performs only the Part of an Historian, and the Speeches are no more
than Narrations. Whereas, in the Dramatic Writings, the Persons
themselves are introduced, every Thing is transacted in our Sight, and
our Eyes and Ears at once are gratified. Now _Horace_'s Observation is
undoubted just:
_Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,
Quam quæ sunt oculis commissa fidelibus._
But what we hear, moves less than what we see.
_Roscommon._
Besides, the Action in the Drama is much more simple, and compendious,
than in the Epic; it takes up less Time, and therefore requires more
Art to conduct it. It excites in the Mind more rapid Motions, and
consequently makes the Pleasure and Admiration more intense. For these,
and other Reasons, _Aristotle_, in the last Chapter of his Book of
Poetry, does not scruple to give the Preference to Tragedy before Epic.
Not that I think he reckons it a more noble Kind in _general_, (for
that would be contrary to Truth and Reason) but only so far as its
Sphere extends: And this is a Difference, which, I humbly conceive,
is very distinguishable. This Excellence of the Drama, which I here
speak of, is the Reason, no doubt, why, tho' his Book bears the Title
of _Poetry_ in general, yet he dwells solely upon that Species of it.
I am not ignorant, indeed, that this Work of his, as it is now extant,
is imperfect, and part of it lost. But by what we have now remaining,
the rest of it appears to have been spent on the same Subject. And
_Horace_, the best Interpreter of _Aristotle_, in his famous Epistle to
the _Piso's_, keeps chiefly in this Track. The other Kinds of Poetry he
does but lightly touch: But the Laws of the Drama he treats of fully and
professedly. After his Example, various Writers upon the _Art of Poetry_
in different Ages and Languages, have chose to dwell chiefly upon
the _Drama_, and have left abundance of elaborate Treaties upon that
Subject. I shall make it my Business to collect what others have said,
into as short a Compass as I can, and explain more fully what I have now
to add of my own.
The principal Species of the Drama are two, Comedy and Tragedy: Some
others there are, of less Note; as Pastoral, and Satire, both which we
have already spoke of. Tragi-Comedy I don't reckon one of them, because
I think it the greatest Absurdity in Nature, and is not so properly a
Species distinct from the other two I first mention'd, as the Abuse
and Corruption of them. For what can be more ridiculous, than, in the
Compass of three Hours, to distract the Mind with Joy and Grief, in such
a Manner, that the two contrary Passions may debilitate, or totally
extinguish each other? How ill are such incoherent Parts united? And
what is it but a monstrous Production?
[352]----_Turpiter atrum
Desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne._
A Handsome Woman with a Fish's Tail.
_Roscom._
How irrational a Transition is it, from beholding the Conflicts of
Kings and Heroes with Misfortunes, to descend, on a sudden, to low
Scenes of Ribaldry, and to return again from these to so moving a
Spectacle! A Poem, indeed, should be adorn'd with Variety, but not
with Inconsistencies. The Passions, likewise, and Affections of the
Mind, should be bent and bow'd down; but so bent, that they may not
grow languid, but recover new Strength. This poetic Kind of Prodigy, I
think, is altogether modern, and chiefly of _British_ Extraction; for
it was the last Age produc'd Multitudes of them in our own Tongue. I
know very well that the learned _Vossius_[353], speaking of the Plays
of the Ancients divided into _Prætextatæ_ and _Togatæ_, observes,
that "there was a _mix'd_ Kind, call'd _Tabernariæ_, where some of the
Persons appear'd in the _Prætexta_, others in the _Toga_. Thus _Festus_
in _Pomponius Lætus_: _The_ Togatæ _were of two kinds_, viz. _the_
Prætextatæ, _when the Actors represented Persons of Quality, such as
had the Liberty of wearing the_ Prætexta; _and the_ Tabernariæ, _when
Persons of low Rank were mix'd with others of Birth and Figure_. From
hence it is plain, if the _Prætextatæ_ were a Sort of Tragedies, and the
_Togatæ_ Comedies; the _Tabernariæ_ being of a mix'd Nature, were what
_Plautus_ calls Tragi-Comedies. Such is the _Amphitryo_ of _Plautus_,
and _Hercules Licymnius_ of the _Greeks_." And as absurd as these Poems
were, they agreed so far, only, with our Tragi-Comedies, that they
mix'd Persons of high and low Rank together; but they never debas'd the
Misfortunes of the former with the Lasciviousness of the latter, as
is usual with our Writers. As to the _Mimi_, _Pantomimi_, the _Nomi_,
and the _Attellani_, they don't so much come within the Province of a
Criticism on Poetry, as of a History of it; since the Writings of the
Ancients, in this Way, are now quite out of Date. They that are desirous
of this Part of Knowledge, may consult other Writers, and _Vossius_
particularly. But there's another Species of Dramatic Folly, which the
Ancients were utter Strangers to, the _Opera_'s, I mean, introduc'd
among us from foreign Parts, by the mercenary Traffic of Eunuchs and
Courtezans: Among us, I say, and it is with Shame I speak it, who set
a Value upon every Thing that is foreign; and are laugh'd at, on that
Account, by the very Foreigners we admire. Too fatal an Indication this,
of the Depravity of our Taste, as well as of our Manners, when we place
the Height of our Pleasure in those Things, which it would be too much
to honour, even with a Toleration. Metre, no doubt, is very suitable
to Poetry, especially to the Dramatic Kind, and ought often to be us'd
there, as it is a proper Instrument of raising or soothing the Passions:
But that the whole Drama should be Sing-Song, that the Actors should
always appear
_Et_ cantare _pares, & respondere paratos._
Well pair'd to sing,
And ready with each other's Skill to vie.
that the most insignificant Action, as well as the deepest Passion,
should be express'd in Tune; and whether they send a Message, or read a
Letter; whether they quarrel, fight, kill, or are kill'd; whether they
laugh, or storm, or die; that this should all be perform'd in Song, is
somewhat more monstrous than the Poets ever yet describ'd[355]. Whatever
Share of Poetry these Performances can pretend to, is so wretchedly
silly, that it does not deserve our Notice. Those Words of _Horace_ are
truly applicable to them, and in a more proper Sense, than he was ever
aware of:
----_Versus inopes rerum, nugæque_ canoræ.
Mere sounding Trifles, Verses void of Sense.
'Tis then for the Music, only, they are follow'd. My sincere Wishes
are, that Music may for ever flourish; but by no Means at the Expulsion
of Poetry, whereas both Comedy and Tragedy seem, at present, to have
been banish'd our Country, and yielded up the Stage to the _Opera_;
I will farther add, if I may say so much, with humble Submission to
better Judges, even Music itself, when join'd with these empty Rhythms,
seems too light and childish, and, by the frequent Repetition of the
same Sound, tiresome. And tho' I readily grant, that the great Masters
of _Italy_, in former Ages, far exceeded ours; yet we have now such
Artists, as, from imitating the immortal _Purcell_, are arriv'd to a
greater Perfection than any which _Italy_, _France_, or _Germany_ send
us. For, you must know,
----_Huc omnes tanquam ad vivaria currunt._
Chas'd from their Woods and Bogs the Padders come,
To this vast City, as their native Home.
_Dryden._
They live upon us; our ambitious Poverty, our Luxury, Folly, and
Vices, are all subservient to their Advantage; to the utter Neglect
and Contempt of our own Countrymen. Broken and unnerv'd _Britains_!
into what a shameful Effeminacy are we sunk? Far, far be it from us, to
detract, in the least, from the Merit of our Neighbours; but let us not
be injurious to our own Countrymen, merely because they are such: Let
the Rule hold, not only in greater Things, but even in these of less
Moment, (which are yet of greater than they seem to be)
_Vincat amor patriæ_----
His Country's Love
Shall conquer.
[359]----_Non possum ferre, Quirites,
Græcam urbem._
To speak my Mind,
I hate in _Rome_ a _Grecian_ Town to find.
_Dryden._
Having thus set aside these spurious Offsprings, Comedy and Tragedy
remain now to be discours'd of distinctly, after I have first said
something of what relates to them in common, that is, to Dramatic Poetry
in general.
The History of the ancient Drama, both _Greek_ and _Roman_, as it
does not come within my present Design, I leave to be learnt from
_Vossius_, and others. I shall only lay before you the following Passage,
from his _Poetical Institutions_, which may serve for a short View of
it. [360]"The Drama, says he, owes its Rise to Days of Festivity. For
in ancient Times 'twas usual for Men, when they had collected in the
Fruits of the Earth, to meet together, that they might sacrifice to the
Deity, and unbend their Minds from the Fatigues of the Harvest. Hence
arose two Sorts of Poetry; the one graver, in Praise of the Gods; the
other jocose, full of Lampoon against one another. Under the former
Head we may reckon the _Dithyrambics_ of _Bacchus_, Hymns to the Gods,
and Panegyrics upon Heroes. Under the second _Iambics_, and _Phallic_
Verses. The first Essays were rough, and unpolished; but, by Degrees,
the great Actions of Gods and Heroes grew more numerous, and increas'd
into set Fables: So, in like manner, the jocose Compositions began to
come under proper Regulations. Thus from the former Kind arose Tragedy;
from the latter, Satire, Comedy, and Mimic." Thus he, agreeable to
which, is _Virgil_, in his _Georgics_:
----_Baccho caper omnibus aris
Cæditur, & veteres ineunt proscenia ludi._
An horn'd He-Goat,
Sacred to _Bacchus_, on each Altar bleeds;
And ancient Interludes adorn the Scene.
And _Horace_, in his Epistle to _Augustus_:
_Agricolæ prisci fortes, parvoque beati,
Condita post frumenta, levantes tempore festo
Corpus, & ipsum animum_, &c.
The ancient Swains, those temp'rate happy Swains,
Contented Sov'reigns of their little Plains,
When all their Corn was hous'd, wou'd make a Feast,
Unbend their Minds, and lay them down to rest;
Their Cares dissolv'd into a happy Thought,
And Minds enjoy'd the Rest their Labour sought.
_Creech._
For the same Reason, I shall pass over all the Apparatus of the ancient
_Drama_, of which the foremention'd learned Author, and many others,
have treated fully; the Form, for Instance, and Ornaments of the
Theatre, the _Scene_, _Proscenium_, _Pulpitum_, _Orchæstra_; the Habits
of the Actors, as the _Toga_, _Pallium_, _Soccus_, _Cothurnus_, and many
other Particulars of the like Nature. I cannot help, indeed, making
this one Remark, that the Mask of the Ancients has been, to me, Matter
of Astonishment. For can any Thing in the World be more contradictory to
Reason? The great Aim of the Drama has always been, to represent Nature
herself, and conceal Art, as much as possible: The Poet, therefore,
thought it his Business to draw the Characters of Men, as they really
were. Is it the Custom, then, I beseech you, either for Kings and
Heroes, on the one Hand, or the Commonalty, on the other, to walk about
with Masks on? Why, then, do they appear with them, upon the Stage? If
it is the Excellence of the Poet to counterfeit Nature, why are so much
Pains thrown away, to convince the Spectators, that what they see is but
an imperfect Copy of her. This Artifice might do well enough in Puppet
Shews: But that the immortal Works of _Sophocles_ and _Terence_ should
be murdered with so monstrous a Device, is perfectly amazing. Besides,
(to omit the Impediment they must be to the Actor's Speech) is it usual
for Men to preserve the same Countenance in all the possible Variety
of Circumstances? Why, then, must they do so upon the Stage? Where are
the different Passions, of Joy or Sorrow, and the various Turns of the
Muscles that express them? At this Rate, indeed, _Horace_'s Rule is
preserv'd according to the Letter, tho' very far from the Sense of it:
[363]----_Servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto processerat, & sibi constet._
Let all the Parts agree, and be alike.
_Creech._
I cannot help wondering, that _Horace_, and the rest of the great
Critics of _Greece_ and _Rome_, should have borne with this _Opprobrium_
of the Theatre[364]. How much better is it for the Persons to appear as
they do among us, with their own Face, and, to use our own academical
Term, each habited according to his _Degree_. Nor am I perfectly
satisfied with the Sock and Buskin of the Ancients, tho' undoubtedly a
less Absurdity than the Mask; for we all know, that the Commonalty did
not, in Fact, wear the Sock, nor the Nobility the Buskin; and why Actors
should appear only as Actors, I can see no Reason, since it is the
Business of the Poet to imitate Nature, and conceal Art and Fiction as
much as possible.
As I before determin'd to pass over the History, and the Decoration
of the Drama, so I had much less Inclination to describe the musical
Instruments that were made use of in it; this is rather the Province of
Musicians and Antiquaries, than Poets or Criticks. The various Kinds of
Flutes, the _Tibicines_, _Choraules_, _Pythaules_, &c. are abundantly
explain'd by _Vossius_, whom we have often had Occasion to mention.
To come, then, at last, to the Subject that properly concerns us:
The Drama, I define to be, _A Poem containing some certain Action,
and representing a true picture of human Life, for the Delight and
Improvement of Mankind_.
A certain _Action_ I say, in the singular, because it ought to be but
_one_; two do but distract the Minds of the Audience, and create more
Uneasiness than Pleasure. In many, indeed, I may say most Tragedies,
as well as Comedies, but in Comedies more particularly, two Actions
seem to be carried on; but they are often only seemingly two, not so
in Reality. One of them is so subservient to the other, so united, and
interwoven with it, that it must be reckon'd rather a Part of the same,
than a distinct Action. Like a small River that branches out from a
greater, which returns to its first Channel, and is totally lost in it.
But in some Plays the Action is entirely one, and tho' the other Kind
may be justly admitted, nay, often admir'd; yet this must be allow'd
the more excellent of the two; for it requires a much nicer Art to
excite Pleasure and Admiration by a proper Conduct of one simple Tale,
than from a Variety of surprizing Incidents. Besides, when the Mind
is solicitous only about one Event, the Thoughts are more close and
compact, the Expectation more attentive, the Concern more exquisite, and
the Impressions strike deeper than when it is distracted and weaken'd
between two different Prospects. Here, therefore, _Horace_'s Rule is
more _peculiarly_ directed, tho' propos'd by him in general:
----_Sit quod vis simplex duntaxat & unum._
True, indeed, it is, according to the Principles of Nature, and
Natural Philosophy, that all Things, the more simple they are, and
less compounded, are the more perfect, and less subject to Change
and Corruption, to Vice and Error. This appears manifestly, from a
Comparison between the Body and Soul, the Creature and the Creator.
[Sidenote: _Twentieth Lecture._]
Tho' the Words, _Fable_, _Action_, and _Design_, are frequently
us'd indiscriminately, they have each of them peculiar and distinct
Ideas. By the _Action_ is meant some Adventure of one or other of the
principal Persons, attended by a great and memorable Event. By the
_Fable_, or Plot, a Heap of Incidents, Episodes, and Other Things,
which are subservient to the carrying on the Action, and bringing it
to a Conclusion. The _Design_ is a particular Disposal of the several
Parts, so as they may be artfully interwoven, and unfolded. What we
call the _Distinction_ of _Persons_ or _Characters_, the _Passions_,
_Thought_ and _Diction_, are certain Adjuncts and Circumstances adhering
to the Persons represented. These Things, tho' of the greatest Moment,
and the chief Concern of the Poet, which we shall treat of singly in
their proper Place, it shall suffice to have mention'd only at present;
because they don't so properly come under the Head we are upon, of the
_Drama_ in _general_. When we come to the distinct species of it, these
will then offer themselves very naturally.
I would now, however, observe, that those general Precepts of _Horace_
relate to the Drama, where he speaks _first_ of the _Passions_,
_Thought_, and _Diction_:
_Non satis est pulchra esse poemata; dulcia sunto,
Et, quo unque volent, animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, ita fientibus adsunt
Humani vultus: Si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipse tibi; tunc tua me infortunia lædunt,
Telephe, vel Peleu: male si mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo. Tristia mœstum
Vultum verba decent, iratum plena minarum,
Ludentem lasciva, severum seria dicta.
Format enim natura prius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram,
Aut ad humum mœrore gravi deducit, & angit:
Post effert animi motus, interprete lingua._
He that wou'd have Spectators share his Grief,
Must write not only well, but movingly,
And raise Mens Passions to what Height he will.
We weep and laugh, as we see others do.
He only makes me sad, who shews the Way,
And first is sad himself. Then, _Telephus_,
I feel the Weight of your Calamities,
And fancy all your Miseries my own;
But if you act them ill, I sleep, or laugh:
Your Looks must alter, as your Subject does,
From kind to fierce, from wanton to severe;
For Nature forms and softens us within,
And writes our Fortunes Changes in our Face.
Pleasure enchants, impetuous Rage transports,
And Grief dejects, and wrings the tortur'd Soul,
And these are all interpreted by Speech.
_Roscom._
Next of the _Characters_, or the different Circumstances, and
Dispositions of the Persons:
_Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dicta,
Romani tollent Equites, Peditesque cachinnum.
Intererit multum Davusne loquatur, an Heros,
Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juventa
Fervidus, an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix,
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli,
Colchus, an Assyrius, Thebis nutritus, an Argis._
But he whose Words and Fortune disagree,
Absurd, unpitied, grows a public Jest.
Observe the Characters of those that speak,
Whether an honest Servant, or a Cheat;
Or one whose Blood boils in his youthful Veins,
Or a grave Matron, or a busy Nurse,
Extorting Merchants, careful Husbandmen,
_Argives_ or _Thebans_, _Asians_ or _Greeks_.
_Roscom._
The subject Matter of this Kind of Poem, is call'd the _Fable_ tho' it
is often grounded upon true History; because the greatest Part of it
is fabulous, tho' the Fiction be intermix'd with Matter of Fact. When
it is not so, it ought to be styled rather a _Dramatical History_,
than _Drama_; of which Sort are many of the Plays of our celebrated
Countryman[368], who has crowded together the Annals of some of our
Kings, without any Regard to the dramatical Rules of Time or Place. But
in other Respects, he
----_Spirat tragicum satis, & feliciter audet._
With happy Boldness draws a tragic Scene.
Yes, extremely happy, and in _these_ Works, but more especially in his
truer Tragedies, has deserv'd well of Posterity.
But often the Drama, properly so call'd, is built upon true History;
as the _Octavia_ of _Seneca_, and many of our modern Tragedies, both
_English_ and _French_, (for _Comedy_ has rarely such a Foundation; but
is either rais'd from some private Fact, which, tho' true, is below
History; or from Fiction only;) sometimes, indeed, it is built upon
Fable, but such as is common, and well known; as the _Trachiniæ_ of
_Sophocles_, _Oedipus_, &c. the Author disposing of the Fable according
to his own Fancy, and giving it a new Appearance: According to that of
_Horace_:
_Publica materies privati juris erit, si
Nec circa vilem, patulumque moraberis orbem,
Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus Interpres._
For what originally others writ,
May be so well disguis'd, and so improv'd,
That with some Justice it may pass for yours.
_Roscommon._
Sometimes it is built upon the Poet's Invention only, who forms an
entire Plot out of his own Head. Most of the Ancients, both _Greeks_
and _Romans_, form'd their Tragedies upon fabulous History; most of
the Moderns either upon true History, or upon Fiction of their own
Invention, or such as has been borrow'd from Romances of later Writers;
which tho' they are fabulous, are not, however, trite and vulgar, like
several of the Ancients; as the _Medea_, for Instance, _Hercules_,
_Iphigenia_, and the like.
In the Foundation of the Drama, _Horace_'s Rule, in the first Place,
ought to be observ'd:
_Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge,
Scriptor._
Follow Report, or feign coherent Things.
_Roscommon._
If it is built either upon true or fabulous History, let nothing be
introduc'd contrary to the Notices we have receiv'd from Fame or
History, of the Persons concern'd in it. For, in this Case, the Faith
of the one, and the Report of the other, would openly contradict the
Fiction. A noble Critic of ours[372] has severely lash'd a certain
Poet[373] for this Fault, _viz._ for representing _Hannibal_ soft,
effeminate, and languishing in the Blandishments of Love; and _Scipio_
passionate, and head-strong. But if the whole is Fiction, let it be
Fiction according to Probability. Let the Writer take care that the
Parts don't disagree, and contradict each other. Here, again, _Horace_'s
Maxim is of Force:
_Si quid inexpertum scenæ committis, & audes
Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto processerit, & sibi constet._
If your bold Muse dare tread unbeaten Paths,
And bring new Characters upon the Stage,
Be sure you keep them up to their first Height.
_Roscommon._
To _follow Fame_ in an honest Sense, and to form a good Poem out of
History, requires much Art, and no small Invention. But a Poet that
works wholly upon his own Stock, shews scarce less Art, but certainly
more Invention. The latter is, in my Judgment, the more noble Task. As
it is wholly new, it is sure to afford more Pleasure to the Audience,
and Honour to the Writer: He may be said, in some Sense, to _create_ his
Materials, and is, therefore, in the most proper one, a _Poet_.
I am well aware, that what I have here advanc'd, seems to contradict the
following Opinion of _Horace_:
_Difficile est proprie communia dicere; tuque
Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,
Quam si proferres ignota, indictaque primus._
New Subjects are not easily explain'd,
And you had better chuse a well-known Theme,
Than trust to an Invention of your own.
_Roscom_.
But not to insist that the Authority of the best of Poets and Criticks
is not to supersede Reason and Experience; it is to be observ'd, that
dramatical Invention has been much improv'd since the Times in which
_Horace_ writ: And had he seen some of our late Tragedies, form'd upon
Fiction only, he would, perhaps, have retracted his Opinion. It is a
difficult Thing, I allow, _to express_ COMMON _Things in a
proper Manner_, that is, to change and heighten some noted,[376]stale
Subject, so as to give it a new Appearance, and make it the Writer's
own; and the Observation is of great Weight: But, all Things consider'd,
whether we regard the Difficulty or the Elegance, the Judgment or
Ingenuity of each Composition; greater Glory seems to be due to him that
produces a new Plan of his own Invention, than that changes, and gives
new Life to an old one.
According to the modern Criticks, every regular Play consists of three
Unities, _viz._ of _Time_, _Place_, and _Action_. I have already spoke
of the last: The first, I would observe, is very improperly styled an
_Unity_. _Place_ and _Action_ may admit of Number; but _Time_, howsoever
extended, does not cease to be _one_, with Respect to the Action which
is continu'd by it. This Observation, I own, is but of little Moment,
since all that make use of the Term, sufficiently understand the Meaning
of it, however inaccurately express'd.
As to _Time_, _Aristotle_, and after him the great _Vossius_, and
others, will not allow it above the Compass of one Day; for which
Reason, the _Heautontimoroumenos_ of _Terence_ is reckon'd faulty,
because it takes up an entire Day, and part of another. But if we were
to reduce Things to the greatest Exactness, the Action of the Drama
ought not to be longer than Representation of it upon the Stage. This,
no doubt, would be the compleatest Rule, could it be practis'd. But tho'
it will rarely or never pass for a Probability, that so great Events
should fall out in so short a Time, yet we ought to come as near to this
Maxim as we can. To see the Ten Years _Trojan_ War crowded into the
narrow Limits of one Tragedy, about three or four Hours long, appears,
at first View, not only improbable, but impossible, and will be rejected
by the Audience as a monstrous Imposition on their Understanding.
The Unity of _Place_ ought to be preserv'd, for the same Reason I before
alledg'd for the Unity of _Time_. The one supposes the other; for if
_Place_ is varied, _Time_ must be so too. If the Action takes up but a
few Hours, it is impossible it should be carried on in Places widely
distant. On the other Hand, if it is transacted partly at _London_, and
partly at _Oxford_, a few Hours will not be sufficient. But there's
another Reason, with Regard even to Place itself, why this Rule,
concerning the Unity of it, ought to be observ'd. What an Absurdity is
it, for a Spectator to suppose himself one Minute at _Rome_, and the
next at _Paris_? We cannot but despise a Poet, who is such a Bungler at
Fiction, as, in a different Sense from that of _Horace_,
----_Modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis._
Now places me at _Athens_, now at _Thebes_.
It is beyond the Power of any Magic to transport us into different
Places, not only at the same Time, but even while we are in the same
Place. The usual Limits of the Drama are within the Compass of one Town
or City: This some think too great, others too narrow an Extent. Larger
it certainly ought not to be: Nor is this probably too large. For tho'
it may not seem very natural for the Audience to be carried from one
End of the City to the other; yet it may be impossible, perhaps, to
represent the Action itself, and some other Circumstances attending it,
in less Compass; and, as we said before of Time, when we cannot come up
to Truth, it must suffice to come as near to it as possible. For, as
_Horace_ says, upon another Occasion,
_Est quadam prodire tenus, si non datur ultra._
What if of farther Progress you despair,
'Tis somewhat, surely, to have gone so far.
_Creech._
However, they are much more in the wrong, who confine the general Scene
within one Room, or Chamber; for it is ridiculous to suppose, that
Persons of most distant Circumstances should meet, or Actions of the
most different Kind be perform'd, in the same Place, or in so narrow
an one. Truth, then, seems to lie, as it generally does, between both
Extremes; and one House, perhaps, may be said to be the just Extent of
the dramatical Scene. It ought not to be of greater Extent, because
Persons of all Ranks and Qualities are, in Reality, contain'd under one
Roof, and Actions of all Kinds perform'd in that Compass. It ought not
to be of a narrower; because the Spectators, whether they sit in the
Pit, or Boxes, may very easily conceive different Parts of the same
House represented in the Scenes, since the Theatre is large enough to
contain one House entire, and both the Persons of the Drama, and the
Spectators themselves, may be suppos'd to move from one Side of it
to the other. These Unities of Action, Time, and Place, ought very
carefully to be observ'd. For tho' a Play, form'd upon the most regular
Plans, will gain but little Applause, if it is destitute of the true
poetic Spirit; so will it deserve as little, how much soever it may be
set off with Decoration, if it offends against the Rules of the Drama.
The former, with all its Regularity, is cold and lifeless; the latter,
with all in Brightness, absurd and ridiculous. Let Rules be first the
Basis of the Poem, and from a right Disposal of these, let the Ornaments
arise naturally, and with Ease. Colouring in Painting, is, no doubt,
an Excellence; but we are not to be so studious of it, as to neglect
Proportion, and transgress the Laws of Optics. Besides, great Judgment
and Caution must be us'd, that we don't adhere so close to one Rule, as
to violate another. _Horace_'s Observation is here undoubtedly just:
_In vitium ducit culpæ fuga, si caret arte._
Thus Fear of Erring, join'd with want of Skill,
Is a most certain Way of erring still.
_Roscom._
A Misfortune, which, in this Case, it is very difficult to guard against.
To these three Unities, as they are usually reckon'd up, we may not
improperly add a fourth: That of _Character_, which I just mention'd
before, but now design to explain more fully. By a _Character_, I
understand, that Assemblage of Circumstances which discriminates one
Man from another; such as Age, Fortune, Manners, and Inclination.
In this Respect, then, let each _Person_ be _one_ from Beginning to
the End. Not that he is always to betray the same Sentiments, or one
Passion; this would be as absurd as it is tedious; but that he should
never speak, nor act repugnant to his own _fundamental Character_. An
old or young Man, for Instance, a King or Servant may, nay, ought, as
Occasion serves, to shew the common Passions of Joy or Sorrow. But for
an old Man to be introduced in the first Act; and to appear a young
one in the second, is inverting Nature. Again, the Meek may sometimes
sally into a Warmth, and the Breast of the Passionate be calm; a Change
which often introduces in the Drama very affecting Variety: But if the
natural _Disposition_ of the former was to be represented as boisterous,
and that of the latter mild and soft, they would both act out of
Character, and contradict their Persons. The Temper of a Man, I own,
is sometimes entirely chang'd; a vicious Disposition may be reform'd,
and a good one corrupted: But this is a Change which cannot be wrought
in so short a Time as the Action of the Drama takes up. It may be much
doubted, therefore whether the unravelling of the Plot in _Terence_'s
_Adelphi_ is agreeable to Truth and Nature, where _Demea_, from an old
Miser, turns, of a sudden, profuse, and lays aside his Moroseness, for
Good-nature; and _Micio_, who had hitherto liv'd single, and dreaded the
married State as the greatest of Sins, in his old Age, at last, by the
Persuasion of his Brother and Nephew, marries an old Woman, without a
Fortune.
[Sidenote: _Twenty-first Lecture._]
The _English_ Drama differs in nothing more from the ancient, than in
Narration and Action. Of both these Heads, _Horace_ delivers himself
thus:
_Aut agitur Res in scenis, aut acta refertur.
Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,
Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, & quæ
Ipse sibi tradit spectator: Non tamen intus
Digna geri promes in scenam; multaque tolles
Ex oculis, quæ mox narret facundia præsens.
Nec pueros coram populo Medea trucidet,
Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus;
Aut in avem Progne mutetur, Cadmus in anguem:
Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi._
Some Things are acted, others only told;
But what we hear, moves less than what we see:
Spectators only have their Eyes to trust,
But Auditors must trust their Ears and you;
Yet there are Things improper for a Scene,
Which Men of Judgment only will relate.
_Medea_ must not draw her murd'ring Knife,
And spill her Children's Blood upon the Stage;
Nor _Atreus_ there his horrid Feast prepare:
_Cadmus_'s and _Progne_'s Metamorphosis,
(She to a Swallow turn'd, he to a Snake)
And whatsoever contradicts my Sense,
I hate to see, and never can believe.
_Roscom._
We then have more Action, and less Narration, than the Ancients, who,
in this Particular, are imitated in Tragedy, by the _French_, and most
other Nations. But if our _British_ Writers may presume to dissent from
so great Authority, I would ask, Why may not Ladies of the first Rank
be suppos'd to speak in Comedy; or Heroes sometimes combat, or even
die upon the Stage, in Tragedy? There's no Absurdity in this; nothing
contrary to Art or Nature; often much conducive to Terror or Compassion.
No one, indeed, would bear to see _Atreus_ represented boiling human
Flesh; it is too ghastly a Spectacle to be expos'd to View; and, instead
of Pity, or Terror, would excite Detestation. For the same Reason,
_Medea_, killing her Sons, should not be exhibited. But there are still
some images of Death less shocking, which may be well adapted to the
Stage. I own, however, we are apt to introduce some Things publickly,
which had better have been sunk in Narration, and some in Silence, if
Regard were had to the inviolable Rules of Modesty, Decency, and Virtue.
Upon the whole, then, the Ancients brought too little into Action, and
we too much.
Upon this Head, I would only observe farther, that I have one Scruple
remaining from these Words, _incredulus odi_, in the Passage I above
cited from _Horace_. Things that are not at all _incredible_, may, for
several other Reasons, be improper to be represented, tho' they may make
a very becoming Narration: And what exceeds all Belief, we shall no
more bear to hear, than behold. And even those Instances which _Horace_
mentions as improper to be represented, have nothing _incredible_ in
them, but upon _other Accounts_ are not fit to be obtruded upon the
Spectators. The Answer to this Objection is, that the Words _incredulus
odi_ are not to be taken separately, but jointly. Of the Sights _Horace_
mentions, some are _odious_, others _incredible_; not _incredible_ in
the _Nature of Things_, for they are suppos'd to be Miracles exceeding
all human Power; but _incredible_ in _theatrical Representation_. Such
monstrous Changes, as of _Progne_ into a Bird; _Cadmus_ into a Serpent;
are too gross to be impos'd upon the Senses: They are Representations,
therefore, not so much _odious_, as _ridiculous_.
There is one Fault which almost all the dramatic Writers, both Tragic
and Comic, Ancient and Modern, have fallen into; that, I mean, of
introducing a Person who has no other Business but to hold out a
Dialogue, and hear a Story. This, to omit other Examples, is the Case,
in two of _Terence_'s Comedies, the _Andria_, and _Phormio_. In the
former of which, _Sofia_ is introduc'd, that _Simo_ may lay before him
the whole Plot of the Play; afterwards we neither see him, nor hear a
Word of him more. In the latter, _Davus_ holds a Colloquy with _Geta_,
only to hear the Amours of _Phædria_ and _Antipho_, which he has nothing
to do with: Then he goes off the Stage, and never sets Foot upon it
more: Whereas, all that support a Dialogue of any Moment, ought, in
some Measure, to be interested in the Business of the Play, from one
End to the other. But these adventitious Persons destroy the Beauty
and Symmetry of it; which ought not, like Gothick Buildings, to be
disfigur'd with Props and Buttresses, and other superfluous Out-works;
but form'd rather according to the Rules of _ancient_ Architecture,
where all the Columns, and several Parts of the Fabrick, mutually
support each other; where there's nothing but what is necessary, nothing
but what is beautiful; and the whole therefore beautiful, because every
Thing is necessary.
But farther; that all the Parts may rightly cohere together, some Reason
should appear, why each Person goes out, and comes in. This is a Rule of
great Moment, tho' generally over-look'd; and yet there is nothing in
the whole Compass of the Drama, more elegant, or more difficult; nothing
in which Art and Judgment are more nearly concern'd. _Exit_ such an one,
says the Poet; _enter_ another: But a Reason may often be ask'd, both
for one, and the other. It is not enough to answer, it was necessary,
for the Author's main Design, that it should be so. The Audience ought
to be appriz'd of the Business for which the several Persons come in,
and go out, and on what Account the Stay of any of them would have been
improper. With these Notices, every Thing will appear to them easy and
natural; but Otherwise, forc'd, and inconsistent. As a Play is divided
into Acts, so are the Acts into Scenes. The former the more ancient
Division of the two. The Act concludes, when the Stage is left entirely
empty; and a new one begins, as soon as one or more Persons come on
again; the intermediate Time being taken up with Dancing or Music. The
Scene changes as every Actor comes in, or goes out, according to the
general Opinion; but in mine, I think a Play had better be divided into
Acts only, without any Distinction of Scenes between the Acts: For the
Place, during one Act, is always the same, and without intermission of
Persons or Discourse. Thus, I say, it is, in all Performances, that are
writ according to the true Rules of the Drama. But if any one shall
maintain, that the Scene ought to change with every Actor's coming in,
or going out, I shall not contend much about it, since it is a Dispute
about Words, rather than Things. This, however, is certain, that what
we call _broken_ Scenes, ought to be totally avoided; those, I mean,
where, in one and the same Act, the Play is disjointed, and the Stage,
for some Time, left vacant. To omit the innumerable Instances I might
give of this, among the Moderns, as well as Ancients, I shall mention
_Terence_ only, and one only of his Plays, the _Eunuch_. In the third
Act, _Thais_, _Thraso_, _Parmeno_, _Gnatho_, and _Pythias_, make up the
second Scene; and at the Conclusion of it they all leave the Stage.
In the third Scene _Chremes_ appears alone, and, for some Time, talks
by himself; at length, _Pythias_ comes in to him, and, after a few
Speeches, both go out together: In the next Scene enters _Antipho_, he
again alone. In the first Scene of the fourth Act _Dorias_ comes in
alone; she goes out, and then comes _Phædria_ alone. This incoherent
Connexion of the several Parts of a Play, is not less disagreeable than
it would be in Architecture. The different Parts of a Fabrick are to
be divided; but in an artful and commodious Manner. The several Acts
in a Play resemble the Wings of a Building; but broken Scenes are like
gaping, disjointed Walls.
This leads me naturally to say somewhat of _Soliloquies_, too much in
Use with _Terence_, and others. They are not, indeed, totally to be
rejected, but very suitable to some sort of Matter, provided they are
sparingly us'd; particularly, they serve to unload the Mind of too
much Grief or Joy; but are of more especial Use in Speeches of the
deliberative Kind. They are more adapted to Tragedy than Comedy; for
it is most natural for Men to converse with themselves, when Matters
of Moment and Concern lie heavy upon their Minds[381]. But _Terence_
often introduces a Person, not to deliberate about Difficulties, but to
relate what has pass'd. In which Case, the Narration must be made to the
Audience, or the Walls; and it is hard to say which of the two is the
more absurd Supposition.
_Donatus_, speaking upon this Subject of the Drama, lays it down for a
Rule, as _Vossius_ cites him, that _no Person ought to go off the Stage,
above five Times_. And _Vossius_[382] himself says, immediately after:
_That this Rule, tho' it holds good in Tragedy, where the Persons,
as they are grave, so are likewise few; yet in Comedy is not always
regarded_. No, say I, nor ought it to be regarded, either in Tragedy, or
Comedy. And if I may be so bold as to dissent from so great a Name as
_Horace_, I cannot see the Reason of that Rule of his, pretty much to
the same Purpose:
----_Nec quarta loqui persona laboret._
And in one Scene no more than three shou'd speak.
_Roscommon._
What should hinder, but every one may go in or out above five, six, or
even ten Times, either in Tragedy, or Comedy, if he pleases? Or where's
the Impropriety of more than three Speakers upon the Stage at once?
There are Maxims that have no Foundation in Truth, nor do they in the
least promote the Order of the Drama, or the Pleasure of the Audience.
They don't flow from the Nature of Things, but only from the arbitrary
Will of the Directors. A Poet shackles himself to no Purpose, with these
Fetters; and only makes his Performance appear stiff and lifeless, with
the Severity of them. He might with as much Reason prescribe to himself
the determinate Number of Lines his Play should consist of. In all these
Things a Writer is left to his Liberty, and the only Rule that can be
given is, to observe none.
As little do I see the Reason of _Vossius_'s[384] Rule, in regard to the
Number of Actors: _That there should not be above fourteen_. To be sure
there ought not to be more; and, if we except the Mutes, concerning whom
there's no Occasion to lay down any Rule, there ought not, perhaps, to
be so many. But for the Reasons I before mention'd, I cannot see any for
fixing a determinate Number. Every Thing of this Nature is to be left
entirely to the Discretion of the writer.
Nor is there any Necessity, from the _Nature_ of the _Thing_, that
there should be just five Acts in a Play, according to that of _Horace_,
_Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu
Fabula, quæ posci vult, & spectata reponi._
Five Acts are just the Measure of a Play.
_Rosc._
After him, _Vossius_, and others, _In a Play there are neither more nor
less than Five Acts_. So, indeed, the Ancients have determin'd, and
Custom has prevail'd; and this, no doubt, is a very proper Division;
but there's no Foundation for it in Nature, and even the Acts are now,
and always have been, of uncertain Length. And _Vossius_, in the same
Discourse[386], observes, _Some think a Play may consist only of four
Acts, provided it be of a proper Length, such as may be seen with
Pleasure, and understood with Ease. And 'tis a Remark of_ Lambinus_'s
that_ Tully, _and some others of the Ancients, mention the third and
fourth as the last Act, without any Notice of the fifth; so that the
fourth may be understood the last. Nay, in his first Epistle to his
Brother_ Quintus, _the third seems to be the last Act. The Words are
these_: "Illud te ad extremum & oro, & hortor, ut tanquam poetæ boni,
& actores industrii solent, sic tu in extrema parte & conclusione
muneris, ac negotii tui, diligentissimus sis; ut hic tertius annus
imperii tui, tanquam tertius actus, perfectissimus, atque ornatissimus,
fuisse videatur. _Lastly, I beg and intreat you to exert yourself in the
Conclusion of your Office, as artful Poets, and good Actors use to do;
that so this third Year of your Command, may be like the third Act of
a Play, the most perfect and ornamental." Unless_ Tully _meant no more
than that as Poets have a chief Regard to the last Act, you should have
the same for your third Year; which is to you, your last Act._
I can by no means agree with the learned Author concerning the
Distribution of the Business that is to be perform'd in each Act; who
delivers himself in this Manner: "The first Act opens the Plot, but not
the Event of it; because it would afford less Surprize, to be known
before-hand. The second brings on the Design into Action. The third
raises some Embarras. The fourth shews the Way by which all Difficulties
may be remov'd. The last artfully removes them." I readily grant, the
first Act ought to _open the Plot_. But this may be partly done in the
second; nor is it necessary the _whole_ of it should be laid open in
the first. The first, likewise, as well as the second, may _produce it
into Action_: The second, as well as the third, may _raise an Embarras_;
and the fourth no less than the other two. The fourth ought not openly
to discover how _Difficulties may be remov'd_, the Business, rather, of
the fifth, which does that, and somewhat more. In this Case, then, (as
I said before in another) Rules are arbitrarily prescrib'd, without any
Foundation in Nature; but all these Things are to be dispos'd according
to the free Discretion of the Writer. Were it otherwise, the Audience
would, in some Measure, know before-hand what they are to expect in
every Act. There's no Necessity that one or the other Part of Action
should be peculiar to this or that Act; nor are any Rules requir'd about
it, except those which we are now coming to, that relate to what are
term'd _Protasis_, _Epitasis_, and _Catastrophe_.
[Sidenote: _Twenty-second Lecture._]
The threefold Division of the Drama, into _Protasis_, _Epitasis_, and
_Catastrophe_, or, as others, in the Terms of _Aristotle_, to the
very same Effect, into _Prologue_, _Episode_, and _Exode_, seems very
natural and easy; tho' neither of these Divisions is peculiar to any
Act. By _Protasis_ is meant that Part which is a Narrative of what has
pass'd, and an Introduction to what is to follow: In the _Epitasis_,
_Incidents_ as they are call'd by the Moderns, arise; all Things are
in Confusion, involv'd in Doubts and Difficulties; and the Audience
_anxious, and trembling for the Birth of Fate_. The _Catastrophe_ clears
up every Thing; and is nothing else but the Discovery, or winding up
of the Plot. But these Parts, as I said before, are not assignable to
any particular ones of the Drama: There's no Necessity that all the
_Protasis_ should be contain'd in the first Act. The _Catastrophe_,
indeed, has its peculiar Place; for it ought to be entirely contain'd,
not only in the last Act, but even in the very Conclusion of it; and
when the Plot is finish'd, the Play should be so too. The _Epitasis_
runs thro' the whole, except the Beginning, and the Conclusion; the
former is taken up entirely with part of the _Protasis_, or the whole
of it; the latter with the _Catastrophe_. 'Tis the _Epitasis_, then,
that supports the Weight and Burden of the Poem, upon which the Crisis
of the Action chiefly turns. It far exceeds, therefore, the other two,
in Extent; as it contains all the Revolutions of Circumstances, the
sudden Changes, and surprizing Events, till, at length, we come to the
_Catastrophe_, the last, and most surprizing Event of all.
If what we have now said is true, 'tis plain _Vossius_ has not given a
right Account of this Matter. "Of these Parts in Comedy, the _Protasis_,
says he[387], is contain'd in the first Act, and sometimes, likewise,
in the second: The _Epitasis_ in the second, sometimes the third, and
fourth, but very rarely any Part of it in the fifth: The _Catastrophe_
takes up sometimes the fourth Act, or Part of it, but always the
whole fifth, or almost the whole. From whence it appears, that the
Division of the _Greeks_, into _Protasis_, _Epitasis_, _Catastrophe_
and _Choricus_, is a better one than that of the _Romans_ into five
Acts: For the _Greek_ Division distinguishes the Drama into Parts that
differ in _Nature_; whereas the other Division into Acts, considers
them only as different in _Quantity_, without regard to any internal
Distinction." Now to pass over his mentioning _Comedy_, whereas Tragedy
is equally concern'd in this Division, I allow it to be very true, that
the _Protasis_ is contain'd in _the first Act, and sometimes in the
second likewise_; and I will add, sometimes in any other Act; tho' this
seems to contradict _Vossius_'s Opinion in another Place, where he says,
_The first Act unfolds the Plot_, as if that was the peculiar Business
of the first Act. I grant, also, that the _Epitasis_ is contain'd in
the second, the third, and fourth; but let me add, likewise, partly in
the first, and partly in the fifth: For there's no Act to which the
_Epitasis_ is not suitable; and I must be so bold as to deny, what this
learned Author asserts, that _there's rarely any Part of it in the
fifth_; so far is this from being true, that some of it ought always to
be in the fifth. Nor do I grant _that the Catastrophe takes up sometimes
the fourth Act, or Part of it, but always the whole fifth, or almost the
whole_. For the _Catastrophe_ ought to turn, as we say, upon a Point, to
start up, on a sudden; as soon as that is discover'd, the Play should
conclude; and this End once obtain'd, all the Action cease: Otherwise,
the Curiosity of the Audience will be pall'd, and what promis'd
Pleasure, will then appear insipid and tedious. Nor had _Vossius_ any
good Reason to compare this Division of _Protasis_, _Epitasis_, and
_Catastrophe_, with that of five Acts, as if these two Divisions were
inconsistent[388], whereas, from what has been said, it appears, they
are very compatible, nay, I may say, include each other.
_Scaliger_[389] defines the Catastrophe to be a _Turn of Affairs that
were before embroil'd into an unexpected Calm_; and _Evanthius_,(as
_Vossius_[390] cites him) a _Turn of Affairs to a happy Conclusion,
after the Audience have been Witnesses to what has pass'd_. Both wrong:
For (as the same _Vossius_ well observes) both Definitions suit only a
Comic Catastrophe, not a Dramatic one in general. His own Definition is
just, That _it is the End of a Play, where Fortune is seen to terminate
in good or ill Success_.
The great Care in the _Catastrophe_ is, that the clearing up of all
Difficulties may appear wonderful, and yet easy, simple, and natural.
What _Cicero_ says of Friendship, is true of the Dramatic Fable, it is
a Knot that must be _untied_, not _cut_: And in such a Manner, that
tho' all admire the Event, yet, at the same Time, are sensible within
themselves, that the Stream of Affairs could scarce have taken another
Course. This, I confess, is a difficult Task; indeed nothing can be more
so, than to raise our Astonishment from the regular Effects of Nature.
There are, however, some Instances of this Art, that can never be enough
admir'd; among the modern Writers especially, and no where more than
among those of our own Country; who, in the Conduct and Design of the
Drama, in my Opinion, leave the Ancients very far behind them.
Another Thing the Poet should take Care of is, to conceal the Event from
the Audience till the Conclusion of the Play. The Reason of this is so
plain, that I need not assign any. I cannot, therefore, but wonder at
the preposterous Artifice of some Writers, who shew the Catastrophe of
the Play, in the very Title of it. We have an _English_ Tragedy, truly
excellent in all other Respects, entitul'd, _Venice Preserv'd; or the
Plot discover'd_. How much better would this have become the last Page,
than the first? Here one may apply the Words of a late ingenious Poet of
our own, tho' in a little different Sense[391]:
_Vestibulum ante ipsum, primoque in limine_,
FINIS _Scribitur_
Too soon, undoubtedly, for the Author's Reputation, is _Venice
preserv'd_; too soon _the Plot discover'd_, for the Reader's Diversion.
To these three Parts of the Drama, _Scaliger_ adds a fourth; _viz._
the _Catastasis_ which he defines to be[392], _The full Growth of the
Fable, while Things are at a Stand in that Confusion to which the Poet
has brought them_. But I can't see how this differs from _Epitasis_, in
which, according to his own Definition, _all Things appear involv'd in
Confusion, or Uncertainty_.
What the Moderns call _Incidents_, are such Events as start up of a
sudden in the Course of the _Drama_, that are concomitant to the main
Design, and conduce to the bringing on the _Catastrophe_ and yet are
not of so great Moment as to constitute distinct, or even subordinate
Actions. These are very serviceable in exciting Admiration; and the
nicest Art is shewn in the proper Conduct of them to that Purpose.
There's one Fault, which both ancient and modern Writers are often
guilty of, _viz._ of introducing entire Scenes, or the greatest Part of
them, only that the Actors may have an Opportunity of making some fine
Speeches, and the Authors of shewing their Wit; without contributing,
in the least, to the main Business of the Drama: Whereas, in Truth, no
Scene, of any Length, ought to be writ only for Decoration. There may,
nay, must be many ornamental Parts; but no considerable one should be
_nothing else_ but Ornament. As, in Architecture, sumptuous Edifices
are embellish'd with Entablatures, Relievo's, and Sculpture; but no
Part of them, of any Bulk, or Weight, should be added, for nothing else
but Embellishment. The Reason is, because the very Essence of Beauty
consists in a genuine Simplicity; such as Nature shews in the wonderful
System of the Universe.
Among the Moderns, the chief, almost the only Subject of Tragedy, as
well as Comedy, is _Love_; not so with the Ancients, who seem, in this
Particular, to have judg'd better than we do. For tho' it must be
allow'd _Love_ is the most prevailing Passion of human Nature, and the
great Businesses of the World, both public and private, are chiefly
govern'd by it; yet there are others, as Ambition, and Friendship, to
name no more, which may either singly, or jointly, be the proper Subject
of the Drama; tho' I own its Progress would be much facilitated, if
predominant _Love_ interven'd to accelerate the Springs of Action.
This Passion, like the _Primum Mobile_ in the ancient System, drives
round the lesser Fires, as so many Stars, within its own _Vortex_;
and is, therefore, by its active Power, far the most productive of
Thoughts, Words, and Events; and the best adapted to excite Pleasure
and Admiration. But, for that Reason, as it is an Attempt the most
difficult, so is it the most noble, to please an Audience without this
Ingredient, which both the Ancients and Moderns have sometimes very
happily effected. All _Terence_'s Comedies are upon the Subject of
Love; not so those of _Aristophanes_: But, among the Moderns, I have
not seen one without it. Tragedies there are many, absolutely free from
it, especially ancient ones; as those of _Sophocles_, and _Euripides_,
which are adapted to infuse Terror, rather than Compassion; and don't so
much aim at appearing soft and delicate, as grand and magnificent. And
among the Moderns, especially our Countrymen, we have the Tragedies of
_Sejanus_, _Catiline_, and _Julius Cæsar_, to name no more, who all meet
their Fate without any Love to hasten it. But the Poets of the present,
and foregoing Age, are full of Love, not only in their Tragedies and
Comedies, but in every other Composition: That of _Terence_, tho' in
a different Sense, may be applied to each of them, _amore abundas_;
they _abound with Love_, or rather run over with it. But more of this,
perhaps, when we come to speak of Tragedy and Comedy distinctly.
To the same Place I must likewise postpone, what remains to be said of
the _Chorus_ of the Ancients, for this, as I once before hinted, they
added over and above to the _Protasis_, _Epitasis_, and _Catastrophe_.
I pass it over here, because it is not, like these I have now treated
of, an essential Part of the Drama, and is totally laid aside by the
Moderns, in my Opinion very deservedly. I shall, however, make some
Observations upon it, in a proper Place, since it made a Part of the old
Comedy, and was continu'd in all the Tragedies of the Ancients.
Nor shall I here draw a Comparison between the ancient dramatic Writers
and the Moderns; this I shall attempt in the distinct Dissertations that
are to follow. I would only observe, in a Word, that as we have more bad
Plays than they, so have we more that are truly beautiful; they have
fewer that deserve Censure, and fewer that merit Praise; they more
correct, we strike out into brighter Excellencies.
Thus much may suffice to explain the Definition we at first laid down,
of a dramatic Performance, except what relates to the last Clause of
it, that it is form'd _for the Delight and Improvement of Mankind_.
Of the first, _viz._ _the Delight_, I have said enough already: And
as to _Improvement_, it ought to be the End of all Poetry in general,
but of the _Drama_ more particularly, whose Business it is to set
before our Eyes the different Courses of Life; the Virtues and Vices,
Happiness and Misery, that attend Mankind in each of them. The Drama is
so exact a Picture of Human Life, that sometimes we are said to copy
That; according to that noted Saying, _Totus mundus agit Histrioniam;
The World is but a theatrical Entertainment_: Which Comparison is
beautifully carried on by _Lucian_ in his Dialogue, entituled,
Χαρων, or Επισκοπαντες. It ought, therefore, to be an
invariable Rule, which is but sometimes follow'd, to direct the Plot
to some moral End, and upon winding up the Catastrophe, to leave it
upon the Audience with some useful Precept. How little this has been
observ'd, by the Poets of the last and present Age, I am asham'd to say;
most of whose Writings, but Comedies in particular, are so full of Filth
and Obscenities, that, far from serving the Cause of Virtue, they are
the very Panders of Lust and Impurities. I could wish to see some Remedy
applied to so great an Evil. In the mean Time, let all good Men shun the
Contagion; and let not the Infamy of it fall upon Poetry itself, but
upon her impure Professors.