Chapter IX: Part 9

_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.

FOOTNOTES:

[351] De Art. Poet. ℣ 180.

[352] Hor. De Art. Poet. ℣ 3.

[353] Instit. Poet L. II. c. 7.

[354] Virg. Eclog. VII. ℣ 5.

[355] And yet it seems to be an agreed Point among many of the Learned, that the Plays of the Ancients were acted in a Kind of Recitative set to the Flute. See this proved by _Crusius_, in his Lives of the _Roman_ Poets, in the Introduction to Dramatic Poets, § IV. Dr. _Bentley_, in his Preface to _Terence_, takes it for granted. See, likewise, _Cic. ad. Brutum_, § 55. The Objections which Dr. _Trapp_ makes against it, would hold, in some Degree, against Chanting: And perhaps both may be accounted for, from the same prudential Reason, _viz._ That the Voice, when continued for some Time very elevated, naturally falls into a Tone, and yet it was necessary it should be very elevated in the ancient Theatre, which was very large, as well as in Cathedrals. To prevent the Disagreeableness of this, it was regulated by a sort of Music.

[356] Hor. De Art. Poet. ℣ 322.

[357] Juv. Sat. III.

[358] Æn. L. VI.

[359] Juv. Sat. III.

[360] Lib. II. c. II.

[361] L. II ℣ 380.

[362] ℣ 139,--℣ 155.

[363] De Art. Poet. ℣ 126.

[364] The forecited Author, Mr. _Crusius_, thinks them to have been of great Use and Expediency to the Ancients; "Their Stage being very large, and their Plays acted by Day-light, the natural Features of the Face, at such a Distance, and without the Help of false Lights, could not appear distinguishable enough, to express the several Characters. Besides the adapting Masks to each Character, very much contributed to the Entertainment of the Audience; since hereby they could better imagine they saw the Persons represented in the Play, than we can, who are still apt to lose the Character in the Player; not to mention this other Disadvantage of the same Face appearing in the different Characters of Prince and Pimp, Hero and Villain, old and young." _Ibid._ Sect. III. So that what they lost in expressing the Variety of Passion, they gain'd in the Variety of Character.

[365] De Art. Poet. ℣ 23.

[366] ℣ 99.

[367] ℣ 112.

[368] _Shakespear._

[369] Horat. ad Aug. ℣ 166.

[370] De Art. Poet. ℣ 131.

[371] ℣ 119.

[372] _John_ Earl of _Rochester_.

[373] _Nat. Lec._

[374] ℣ 125.

[375] ℣ 128.

[376] _Materiam vulgarem, notam, & e medio petitam._ But _Roscommon_ above, and, I think, most of the Commentators, make _communia_ to be the same with what follows, _ignota indictaque_, i.e. _common_, till you took them, such as were no-body's Property before. In this Sense, _Horace_, as Dr. _Trapp_ says, contradicts his Opinion of new Subjects being better than old.

[377] Ad Aug. ℣ 213.

[378] Lib. I. Ep. I. 32.

[379] De Art. Poet. ℣ 31.

[380] ℣ 179.

[381] Besides, in the ancient Tragedy the Chorus justified Soliloquies, who were supposed to be humane By-standers, where the Scene was laid: Among the Rules given to the Chorus in _Horace_, one is, that they should keep secret what they heard, _Ille tegat commissa_, Ar. Poet. ℣ 200.

[382] Instit. Poet. Lib. II. cap. 5.

[383] De Arte Poet. ℣ 192.

[384] Instit. Poet. Lib. II. c. 5.

[385] De Art. Poet. ℣ 189.

[386] Inst. Poet. L. II. c. 5.

[387] Inst. Poet. L. II. p. 24.

[388] Nor, with Submission, does _Vossius_ suppose them inconsistent.

[389] Poet. L. I. c. 9.

[390] Inst. Poet. L. II. c. 5.

[391] Auctio Davisiana.

[392] Poet. L. I. c. 9.

LECTURE XXIII, _&c._
_Of_ COMEDY.

Having discours'd of the Nature and Genius of the Drama in general; the three great Unities, _viz_. of _Action_, _Time_, and _Place_; the Variety and Distinctness of the Characters; the Contrivance and Management of the Plot, and other Things of that Sort; Comedy comes next to be consider'd separately, as it falls under the general Rules of the _Drama_ which are already mention'd, and as it is distinguish'd from Tragedy, which shall be treated of hereafter.

The Word _Comedy_ is deriv'd from Κωμη, _a Village_, and ωδη, _a Song_; because, consisting only of a _Chorus_, and fram'd without Dialogue or Diversity of Characters, it was sung originally in _Villages_, and was therefore call'd a _Country Catch_; its first Appearance being entirely different from that Dress, which it afterwards assum'd, and still continues to wear: Or it was call'd Comedy from κωμος and ωδη, because at Feasts (which were under the Care of the God _Comus_) it was usually one Part of the Entertainment.

When or where _Comic_ Poetry had its Original, is a Question not to be determin'd, which _Aristotle_ accounts for in this Manner;[393] Αι μεν ουν της τραγωδιας μεταβασεις, και δι' ὡν εγενοντο, ου λεληθασιν. Ἡ δε κωμωδια, δια το μη σπουδαζεσθαι εξ αρχης, ελαθεν. _We are acquainted_ (says he) _with the Alterations and Improvements made in Tragedy, and with the Authors of them; but Comedy, because less Regard was paid to it at first, we know little or nothing of_. The Dignity of Tragic Poetry was the Reason why the _Greeks_ began to improve it much earlier, and to take more Pains in it, and therefore its Rise and Progress is much better known. But altho' Tragedy was sooner refin'd, and brought under the Rules of Art, yet it is probable, that some rude Attempts in Comedy were more ancient: Because it seems natural to imagine, that Mankind, upon gathering in the Fruits of the Earth, and receiving the other Blessings of Providence, should be excited with Sentiments of Joy, affected with an innocent Gaiety, and led on to some festival Sports, before they could think of writing Poems upon the Miseries and Misfortunes of other Men; and because a Life plain, and without Shew, was more ancient than State and Magnificence[394].

Before I divide my Subject, I shou'd now, according to the Rules of Method, define it, which I wou'd comply with, if the several Parts of it wou'd properly fall under any one Definition, that wou'd equally extend to all of them. But as there were three Sorts of Comedy, and the Definition, which I propose to give, takes in only the two last and best of them, which are now in Use, it may be proper to observe, before I offer any Definition, that these three Sorts of Comedy were the _Old_, the _Middle_, and the _New_.

The _old_ was of two Kinds, 1. There was the very oldest of all, of which not the least Remains are now left; but the Writers of it, as _Aristotle_ tells us, were _Epicharmus_ and _Phormis_, _Sicilians_; and _Crates_ the _Athenian_. Their Performances were rough and artless, innocent and sententious. 2. There was, what we now more expresly call the _old_ Comedy; the Masters in which were _Eupolis_ and _Cratinus_, whose Works are lost, and _Aristophanes_, who was the last in that Way of Writing. It was sharp, and satirical, and extremely abusive; even Men of the first Rank, whether the Facts were true or false, if they were suspected only of any criminal Behaviour, were brought upon the Stage without any Disguise, call'd by their own Names, and us'd as severely as possible. This is what _Horace_ alludes to in one of his Satires:

_Eupolis, atque Cratinus, Aristophanesque Poëtæ,
Atque alii, quorum Comœdia prisca virorum est,
Si quis dignus erat describi, quod malus, aut fur,
Aut mœchus foret, aut sicarius, aut alioqui
Famosus, multa cum libertate notabant._

_Cratin_ and _Eupolis_, that lash'd the Age,
Those old Comedian Furies of the Stage;
If they were to describe a vile, unjust,
And cheating Knave, or scourge a lawless Lust,
Or other Crimes; regardless of his Fame,
They shew'd the Man, and boldly told his Name.
_Creech._

_Dignus erat describi_, deserv'd to be expos'd, _i. e._ in the Poet's Opinion; for we are not to imagine, that all Persons who underwent that theatrical Discipline, did really deserve it: It is well known, how ill _Aristophanes_ us'd the very best of the _Athenians_, the almost divine _Socrates_. Besides, it might, and probably did often happen, that a Man who had in Justice deserv'd Correction, might be too much a Sufferer in the Measure of it. But, however, to point its Satire in plain Terms against the greatest Men, and the greatest Crimes, was a Liberty which this old Comedy assum'd; an unreasonable Liberty upon all Accounts, and not to be endur'd. For Men of the first Rank, and Crimes of the blackest Die, are not the proper Characters or Objects of Comedy, as will be shewn more at large hereafter: And in writing Satire directly to name Men, whatsoever Rank they are of, is inconsistent with all the sober Rules of Poetry: As, in the Comedy of the _Clouds_, _Aristophanes_ brings _Socrates_ upon the Stage by Name, as one of the Persons of the _Drama_. Indeed, this Liberty of Abuse and Defamation, was allow'd chiefly to the _Chorus_, and was most in Use during the Democracy of the _Athenians_, especially in the Time of the _Peloponnesian_ War. But when the Thirty Tyrants had seiz'd the Government, they thought proper to make a Law against it. This _Horace_ speaks of, in his Art of Poetry:

_Successit vetus his Comœdia, non sine multa
Laude; sed in vitium libertas excidit, & vim
Dignam lege regi; Lex est accepta, Chorusque
Turpiter obticuit, sublato jure nocendi._
Next these, old Comedy did please the Age,
But soon their Liberty was turn'd to Rage;
Such Rage, as Civil Pow'r was forc'd to tame,
And by good Laws secure Men's injur'd Fame.
Thus was the _Chorus_ lost, their railing Muse
Grew silent, when forbidden to abuse.
_Creech._

The most learned _Gerrard Vossius_ has oblig'd us with so good an Account of the Rise and Progress of the two other Sorts of Comedy, I mentioned, that I am capable of giving it no Improvements; it is as follows: [397]"The Government, for fear of being too freely us'd, took away the Chorus, which was generally extreamly abusive. Instead of it, succeeded παρεκβασεις, or Digressions, which, like the old _Chorus_, were Breaks in the Action, but design'd chiefly to censure or expose the Poets: If any other Persons were struck at, it was not done rudely, but in a modest and decent Manner. The Vices of all the Citizens, were, without Exception, brought under the Lash, but no Body was nam'd: Or if any particular Person was pointed at, it was covertly, and in Disguise. And this Sort of Comedy, after the third was invented, was call'd the _Middle_ Comedy; introduc'd between the Old and New, but had a greater Resemblance with the Old. The most celebrated Authors of this Middle Comedy at _Athens_, were _Philiseus_ and _Stephanus_; as is mention'd in the _Prolegomena_ to _Aristophanes_. It was a Rule with them to name no Body, but Gentlemen of their own Profession; a Liberty which others were very willing to allow them: In this, alone, they follow'd the Old Comedy, which did the same Thing." Most, if not all the modern Comedies, are of this Sort, except in the last Particular, especially those of our own Country; as will be very evident, from what we have to offer upon this Subject hereafter. Such, then, was the _Middle_ Comedy, and was succeeded by the _New_, which we have the History of from the same Hand.