These conditions no longer exist. The adventure of the modern Romeo--to
consider only the external events which it might provoke--would not
provide material for a couple of acts. Against this it may be urged that
a modern poet, who desires to put on the stage an analogous poem of
youthful love, is perfectly justified in borrowing from days gone by a
more decorative setting, one that shall be more fertile in heroic and
tragical incident. Granted; but what can the result be of such an
expedient? Would not the feelings and passions that demand for their
fullest, most perfect expression and development the atmosphere of
to-day (for the passions and feelings of a modern poet must, in despite
of himself, be entirely and exclusively modern) would not these
suddenly find themselves transplanted to a soil where all things
prevented their living? They no longer believe, yet are charged with the
fear and hope of eternal judgment. In their hours of distress they have
discovered new forces to cling to, that seem trustworthy, human and
just; and behold them thrust back to a century wherein prayer and the
sword decide all! They have profited, unconsciously perhaps, by every
moral advance we have made--and they are suddenly flung into abysmal
days when the least gesture was governed by prejudices at which they can
only shudder or smile. In such an atmosphere, what can they do; how hope
that they truly can live there?