An English Garner: Critical Essays & Literary Fragments Part 8

This Definition, though CRITES raised a logical objection against it (that "it was only _a genere et fine_," and so not altogether perfect), was yet well received by the rest.

And, after they had given order to the watermen to turn their barge, and row softly, that they might take the cool of the evening in their return: CRITES, being desired by the company to begin, spoke on behalf of the Ancients, in this manner.

"If confidence presage a victory; EUGENIUS, in his own opinion, has already triumphed over the Ancients. Nothing seems more easy to him, than to overcome those whom it is our greatest praise to have imitated well: for we do not only build upon their foundation, but by their models.

"Dramatic Poesy had time enough, reckoning from THESPIS who first invented it, to ARISTOPHANES; to be born, to grow up, and to flourish in maturity.

"_It has been observed of Arts and Sciences, that in one and the same century, they have arrived to a great perfection_ [p. 520]. And, no wonder! since every Age has a kind of Universal Genius, which inclines those that live in it to some particular studies. The work then being pushed on by many hands, must, of necessity, go forward.

"Is it not evident, in these last hundred years, when the study of Philosophy has been the business of all the _Virtuosi_ in Christendom, that almost a new Nature has been revealed to us? that more errors of the School have been detected, more useful experiments in Philosophy have been made, more n.o.ble secrets in Optics, Medicine, Anatomy, Astronomy, discovered; than, in all those credulous and doting Ages, from ARISTOTLE to us [p. 520]? So true it is, that nothing spreads more fast than Science, when rightly and generally cultivated.

"Add to this, _the more than common Emulation that was, in those times, of writing well_: which, though it be found in all Ages and all persons that pretend to the same reputation: yet _Poesy, being then in more esteem than now it is, had greater honours decreed to the Professors of it, and consequently the rivalship was more high between them_. They had Judges ordained to decide their merit, and prizes to reward it: and historians have been diligent to record of AESCHYLUS, EURIPIDES, SOPHOCLES, LYCOPHRON, and the rest of them, both who they were that vanquished in these Wars of the Theatre, and how often they were crowned: while the Asian Kings and Grecian Commonwealths scarce[ly] afforded them a n.o.bler subject than the unmanly luxuries of a debauched Court, or giddy intrigues of a factious city. _Alit oemulatio ingenia_, says PATERCULUS, _et nunc invidia, nunc admiratio incitationem accendit_: 'Emulation is the spur of wit; and sometimes envy, sometimes admiration quickens our endeavours.'

"But now, since the rewards of honour are taken away: that Virtuous Emulation is turned into direct Malice; yet so slothful, that it contents itself to condemn and cry down others, without attempting to do better.

'Tis a reputation too unprofitable, to take the necessary pains for it; yet wishing they had it, is incitement enough to hinder others from it.

And this, in short, EUGENIUS, is the reason why you have now so few good poets, and so many severe judges. Certainly, to imitate the Ancients well, much labour and long study is required: which pains, I have already shown, our poets would want encouragement to take; if yet they had ability to go through with it.

"Those Ancients have been faithful Imitators and wise Observers of that Nature, which is so torn and ill-represented in our Plays. They have handed down to us a perfect Resemblance of Her, which we, like ill copyers, _neglecting to look on_, have rendered monstrous and disfigured.

"But that you may know, how much you are indebted to your Masters! and be ashamed to have so ill-requited them! I must remember you, that all the Rules by which we practise the Drama at this day (either such as relate to the Justness and Symmetry of the Plot; or the episodical ornaments, such as Descriptions, Narrations, and other beauties which are not essential to the play), were delivered to us from the Observations that ARISTOTLE made of those Poets, which either lived before him, or were his contemporaries. We have added nothing of our own, except we have the confidence to say, 'Our wit is better!' which none boast of in our Age, but such as understand not theirs. Of that book, which ARISTOTLE has left us, [Greek: peri taes Poietikaes]; HORACE his _Art of Poetry_ is an excellent _Comment_, and, I believe, restores to us, that Second Book of his [_i.e., ARISTOTLE_] concerning _Comedy_, which is wanting in him.

"Out of these two [Authors], have been extracted the Famous Rules, which the French call, _Des trois Unites_, or 'The Three Unities,' which ought to be observed in every _regular_ Play; namely, of TIME, PLACE, and ACTION.

"The UNITY OF TIME, they comprehend in Twenty-four hours, _the compa.s.s of a natural Day_; or, as near it, as can be contrived. And the reason of it is obvious to every one. That _the Time_ of the feigned Action or Fable of the Play _should be proportioned_, as near as can be, _to the duration of that Time in which it is REPRESENTED_. Since therefore all plays are acted on the Theatre in a s.p.a.ce of time _much within_ the compa.s.s of Twenty-four hours; that Play is to be thought the _nearest Imitation_ of Nature, whose Plot or Action is confined within that time.

"And, by the same Rule which concludes this General Proportion of Time, it follows, _That all the parts of it are to be equally subdivided_. As, namely, that one Act take not up the supposed time of Half a day, which is out of proportion to the rest; since the other four are then to be straitened within the compa.s.s of the remaining half: for it is unnatural that one Act which, being spoken or written, is not longer than the rest; should be supposed longer by the audience. 'Tis therefore the Poet's duty to take care _that no Act_ should be imagined to _exceed the Time in which it is Represented on the Stage_; and that the intervals and inequalities of time, be supposed to fall out _between_ the Acts.

"This Rule of TIME, how well it has been observed by the Ancients, most of their plays will witness. You see them, in their Tragedies (wherein to follow this Rule is certainly most difficult), from the very beginning of their Plays, falling close into that part of the Story, which they intend for the Action or princ.i.p.al Object of it: leaving the former part to be delivered by Narration. So that they set the audience, as it were, at the post where the race is to be concluded: and, saving them the tedious expectation of seeing the Poet set out and ride the beginning of the course; you behold him not, till he is in sight of the goal, and just upon you.

"For the Second Unity, which is that of PLACE; the Ancients meant by it, _That the scene_ [locality] _ought to be continued_, through the Play, _in the same place, where it was laid in the beginning_. For _the Stage_, on which it is represented, _being but one, and the same place; it isunnatural to conceive it many, and those far distant from one another_.

I will not deny but by the Variation of Painted scenes [_scenery was introduced about this time into the English theatres, by Sir WILLIAM D'AVENANT and BETTERTON the Actor: see Vol. II. p. 278_] the Fancy which, in these casts, will contribute to its own deceit, may sometimes imagine it several places, upon some appearance of probability: yet it still carries _the greater likelihood of truth_, if those places be supposed so near each other as in the same town or city, which may all be comprehended under the larger denomination of One Place; for a greater distance will bear no proportion to the _shortness of time which is allotted in the acting_, to pa.s.s from one of them to another.

"For the observation of this; next to the Ancients, the French are most to be commended. They tie themselves so strictly to the Unity of Place, that you never see in any of their plays, a scene [_locality_] changed in the middle of an Act. If the Act begins in a garden, a street, or [a]

chamber; 'tis ended in the same place. And that you may know it to be the same, the Stage is so supplied with persons, that it is never empty all the time. He that enters the second has business with him, who was on before; and before the second quits the stage, a third appears, who has business with him. This CORNEILLE calls _La Liaison des Scenes_,'the Continuity or Joining of the Scenes': and it is a good mark of a well contrived Play, when all the persons are known to each other, and every one of them has some affairs with all the rest.

"As for the third Unity, which is that of ACTION, the Ancients meant no other by it, than what the Logicians do by their _Finis_; the End or Scope of any Action, that which is the First in intention, and Last in execution.

"Now the Poet is to aim at _one great and complete Action_; to the carrying on of which, all things in the Play, even the very obstacles, are to be subservient. And the reason of this, is as evident as any of the former. For two Actions, equally laboured and driven on by the Writer, would destroy the Unity of the Poem. It would be no longer one Play, but two. Not but that there may be many actions in a Play (as BEN.

JOHNSON has observed in his _Discoveries_), but they must be all subservient to the great one; which our language happily expresses, in the name of Under Plots. Such as, in TERENCE's _Eunuch_, is the deference and reconcilement of _THAIS_ and _PHAEDRIA_; which is not the chief business of the Play, but promotes the marriage of _Ch.o.e.rEA_ and _CHREMES's sister_, princ.i.p.ally intended by the Poet.

"'There ought to be but one Action,' says CORNEILLE, 'that is, one complete Action, which leaves the mind of the audience in a full repose.'

But this cannot be brought to pa.s.s, but by many other imperfect ones, which conduce to it, and hold the audience in a delightful suspense of what will be.

"If by these Rules (to omit many others drawn from the Precepts and Practice of the Ancients), we should judge our modern plays, 'tis probable that few of them would endure the trial. That which should be the business of a Day, takes up, in some of them, an Age. Instead of One Action, they are the Epitome of a man's life. And for one spot of ground, which the Stage should represent; we are sometimes in more countries than the map can show us.

"But if we will allow the Ancients to have _contrived_ well; we must acknowledge them to have _writ_ better. Questionless, we are deprived of a great stock of wit, in the loss of MENANDER among the Greek poets, and of COECILIUS, AFFRANIUS, and VARIUS among the Romans. We may guess of MENANDER's excellency by the Plays of TERENCE; who translated some of his, and yet wanted so much of him, that he was called by C. CAESAR, the Half-MENANDER: and of VARIUS, by the testimonies of HORACE, MARTIAL, and VELLEIUS PATERCULUS. 'Tis probable that these, could they be recovered, would decide the controversy.

"But so long as ARISTOPHANES in the Old Comedy, and PLAUTUS in the New are extant; while the Tragedies of EURIPIDES, SOPHOCLES, and SENECA are to be had: I can never see one of those Plays which are now written, but it increases my admiration of the Ancients. And yet I must acknowledge further, that to admire them as we ought, we should understand them better than we do. Doubtless, many things appear flat to us, whose wit depended upon some custom or story, which never came to our knowledge; or perhaps upon some criticism in their language, which, being so long dead, and only remaining in their books, it is not possible they should make us know it perfectly.

"To read MACROBIUS explaining the propriety and elegancy of many words in VIRGIL, which I had before pa.s.sed over without consideration as common things, is enough to a.s.sure me that I ought to think the same of TERENCE; and that, in the purity of his style, which TULLY so much valued that he ever carried his _Works_ about him, there is yet left in him great room for admiration, if I knew but where to place it.

"In the meantime, I must desire you to take notice that the greatest man of the last Age, BEN. JOHNSON, was willing to give place to them in all things. He was not only a professed imitator of HORACE, but a learned plagiary of all the others. You track him everywhere in their snow. If HORACE, LUCAN, PETRONIUS _Arbiter_, SENECA, and JUVENAL had their own from him; there are few serious thoughts that are new in him. You will pardon me, therefore, if I presume, he loved their fashion; when he wore their clothes.

"But since I have otherwise a great veneration for him, and you, EUGENIUS! prefer him above all other poets: I will use no farther argument to you than his example. I will produce Father BEN. to you, dressed in all the ornaments and colours of the Ancients. You will need no other guide to our party, if you follow him: and whether you consider the bad plays of our Age, or regard the good ones of the last: both the best and worst of the Modern poets will equally instruct you to esteem the Ancients."

CRITES had no sooner left speaking; but EUGENIUS, who waited with some impatience for it, thus began:

"I have observed in your speech, that the former part of it is convincing, as to what the Moderns have profited by the Rules of the Ancients: but, in the latter, you are careful to conceal, how much they have excelled them.

"We own all the helps we have from them; and want neither veneration nor grat.i.tude, while we acknowledge that, to overcome them, we must make use of all the advantages we have received from them. But to these a.s.sistances, we have joined our own industry: for had we sate down with a dull imitation of them; we might then have lost somewhat of the old perfection, but never acquired any that was new. We draw not, therefore, after their lines; but those of Nature: and having the Life before us, besides the experience of all they knew, it is no wonder if we hit some airs and features, which they have missed.

"I deny not what you urge of Arts and Sciences [p. 514]; that they have flourished in some ages more than others: but your instance in Philosophy [p. 514] makes for me.

"For if Natural Causes be more known now, than in the time of ARISTOTLE, because more studied; it follows that Poesy and other Arts may, with the same pains, arrive still nearer to perfection. And that granted, it will rest for you to prove, that they wrought more perfect Images of Human Life than we.

"Which, seeing, in your discourse, you have avoided to make good; it shall now be my task to show you some of their Defects, and some few Excellencies of the Moderns. And I think, there is none amongst us can imagine I do it enviously; or with purpose to detract from them: for what interest of Fame, or Profit, can the Living lose by the reputation of the Dead? On the other side, it is a great truth, which VELLEIUS PATERCULUS affirms, _Audita visis libentius laudamus; et proesentia invidia, proeterita, admiratione prosequimur, et his nos obrui, illis instrui credimus_, 'That Praise or Censure is certainly the most sincere, which unbribed Posterity shall give us.'

"Be pleased, then, in the first place, to take notice that the Greek Poesy, which CRITES has affirmed to have arrived to perfection in the reign of the Old Comedy [p. 514], was so far from it, that _the distinction of it into Acts was not known to them_; or if it were, it is yet so darkly delivered to us, that we cannot make it out.

"All we know of it is, from the singing of their Chorus: and that too, is so uncertain, that in some of their Plays, we have reason to conjecture they sang more than five times.

"ARISTOTLE, indeed, divides the integral parts of a Play into four.

"Firstly. The _Protasis_ or Entrance, which gives light only to the Characters of the persons; and proceeds very little into any part of the Action.

"Secondly. The _Epitasis_ or Working up of the Plot, where the Play grows warmer; the Design or Action of it is drawing on, and you see something promising, that it will come to pa.s.s.

"Thirdly. The _Catastasis_ or Counter-turn, which destroys that expectation, embroils the action in new difficulties, and leaves you far distant from that hope in which it found you: as you may have observed in a violent stream, resisted by a narrow pa.s.sage; it turns round to an eddy, and carries back the waters with more swiftness than it brought them on.

"Lastly. The _Catastrophe_, which the Grecians call [Greek: desis]; the French, _Le denoument_; and we, the Discovery or Unravelling of the Plot. There, you see all things settling again upon the first foundations; and the obstacles, which hindered the Design or Action of the Play, once removed, it ends with that Resemblance of Truth or Nature, that the audience are satisfied with the conduct of it.

"Thus this great man delivered to us the Image of a Play; and I must confess it is so lively, that, from thence, much light has been derived to the forming it more perfectly, into Acts and Scenes. But what Poet first limited to Five, the number of the Acts, I know not: only we see it so firmly established in the time of HORACE, that he gives it for a rule in Comedy.

"_Neu brevier quinto, neu sit productior actu:_

"So that you see, the Grecians cannot be said to have consumated this Art: writing rather by Entrances than by Acts; and having rather a general indigested notion of a Play, than knowing how and where to bestow the particular graces of it.

"But since the Spaniards, at this day, allow but three Acts, which they call _Jornadas_, to a Play; and the Italians, in many of theirs, follow them: when I condemn the Ancients, I declare it _is not altogether because they have not five Acts to every Play; but because they have not confined themselves to one certain number_. 'Tis building a house, without a model: and when they succeeded in such undertakings, they ought to have sacrificed to Fortune, not to the Muses.

"Next, for the Plot, which ARISTOTLE called [Greek: to muthos], and often [Greek: ton pragmaton sunthesis]; and from him, the Romans, _Fabula_. It has already been judiciously observed by a late Writer that 'in their _TRADGEDIES_, it was only some tale derived from Thebes or Troy; or, at least, something that happened in those two Ages: which was worn so threadbare by the pens of all the Epic Poets; and even, by tradition itself of the _talkative Greeklings_, as BEN. JOHNSON calls them, that before it came upon the Stage, it was already known to all the audience.

And the people, as soon as ever they heard the name of _OEDIPUS_, knew as well as the Poet, that he had killed his father by a mistake, and committed incest with his mother, before the Play; that they were now to hear of a great plague, an oracle, and the ghost of _LAIUS_: so that they sate, with a yawning kind of expectation, till he was to come, with his eyes pulled out, and speak a hundred or two of verses, in a tragic tone, in complaint of his misfortunes.'

"But one _OEDIPUS_, _HERCULES_, or _MEDEA_ had been tolerable. Poor people! They scaped not so good cheap. They had still the _chapon bouille_ set before them, till their appet.i.tes were cloyed with the same dish; and the Novelty being gone, the Pleasure vanished. So that one main end of Dramatic Poesy, in its definition [p. 513] (which was, to cause _Delight_) was, of consequence, destroyed.

"In their _COMEDIES_, the Romans generally borrowed their Plots from the Greek poets: and theirs were commonly a little girl stolen or wandered from her parents, brought back unknown to the same city, there got with child by some lewd young fellow, who (by the help of his servant) cheats his father. And when her time comes to cry _JUNO Lucina fer opem!_ one or other sees a little box or cabinet, which was carried away with her, and so discovers her to her friends: if some G.o.d do not prevent [_antic.i.p.ate_] it, by coming down in a machine [_i.e., supernaturally_], and take the thanks of it to himself.

"By the Plot, you may guess much [_many_] of the characters of the Persons. An old Father that would willingly, before he dies, see his son well married. His debauched Son, kind in his nature to his wench, but miserably in want of money. A Servant or Slave, who has so much wit [as]