Amenities of Literature Part 46

The work that I was born to do is done!

The conclusion Makes the beginning of my life; for never Let me be said to live, till I live ever![10]

The plays were bought by a manager for his company, and each company was jealously alive that no other should perform their purchased copies.

These monopolists were therefore anxious to suppress the publication of plays, and to smother the fame of their dramatist on their own boards.

The players, who were usually copartners, at the sovereign pleasure of their proprietors.h.i.+p, unmercifully mutilated the tender limbs of their poet,[11] or what was not less usual, made him for ever ridiculous by foisting in whole scenes of the basest humour, as clap-traps for "the groundlings," and which sometimes were perpetuated in the prompter's copy. Such scenes of ribaldry have tainted even immortal pages, and have provoked much idle criticism either to censure or to palliate.

As the stock-copies increased and lost their novelty, they required some new-fas.h.i.+oning. The tarnished piece was drawn out of the theatrical wardrobe; once in vogue, and now neglected, the body, not yet moth-eaten, might be flounced with new scenes. To this humiliated state of jobbers of old plays, were reduced the most glorious names in our drama's roll. Shakespeare, Jonson, and Ma.s.singer sate down to this obscure drudgery. Our earlier commentators on Shakespeare had no suspicion that even his plays were often _rifacimentos_ of neglected stock-copies. When the account-books of Henslow, the manager, were discovered at Dulwich College, they supplied some strange literary anecdotes. This entry appears, "lent to Bengemen Jonson, forty s.h.i.+llings for his adycions to Jeronymo," which was an old favourite play of Kyd's.

Again, more lent for "new adycions." When Hawkins republished "Jeronymo"

in his collection, he triumphantly rejected these "adycions," as being "foisted in by the players." This he had detected by collation with the first edition; further his critical decision could not advance. The Diary of Henslow was fatal to the matter-of-fact critic--the pa.s.sages he had ejected relate to the madness of Hieronymo for the murder of his son; the learned poet never wrote with such a Shakespearian force.

Our early dramatists not only jobbed in this chance-work, but established a copartners.h.i.+p for the quicker manufacture; and we find sometimes three or four poets working on one play, share and share alike, or in due proportions, whenever they could peaceably adjust their mutual celebrities.[12] Could we penetrate into the recesses of the theatre of that day, I suspect we should discover civil wars in the commonwealth. These partners sometimes became irreconcilably jealous.

Jonson and Marston and Decker, who had zealously co-operated, subsequently exhausted their quivers at one another. Greene was incurably envious of Marlow, and got his friend Nash to be as much so, till Marlow and Nash compromised, and wrote together the tragedy of _Dido_, with the affection of twins. Lofty Chapman flashed an "invective" against proud "Ben," and when Anthony Munday, a copious playwright, was hailed by a critic as "the best plotter," Jonson, in his next _play_, ridiculed "the best plotter." Can we forget that in _Eastward Hoe_, one of the most amusing of our old comedies, whence Hogarth borrowed the hint of his "Idle and Industrious Apprentices," by Jonson, Chapman and Marston, the madness of Ophelia is poorly ridiculed?

It would seem that a junction of the poets usually closed in a rupture.

Our first tragedy and comedy were moulded on the cla.s.sical model, for both the writers were university-men. It is, however, remarkable that the greater number of our early dramatists who now occupy our attention were also members of the universities, had taken a degree, and some were skilful Greek scholars.[13] How then did it happen, that not one of these scholars submitted to the artificial apparatus and the conventional code of their legislator, the Stagyrite? We observe a sudden revolution in the dramatic art.

Our poets had not to address scholastic critics; for, as one of them has delivered himself,--

--------They would have GOOD PLAYS, and not produce Such musty fopperies of antiquity; Which do not suit the humorous age's back, With clothes in fas.h.i.+on.

It was their business to raise up that multiform shape which alone could win the mutable attention of a very mixed audience. At once they clung to the human nature before them; they ran through all the chords of the pa.s.sions; mingling the comic with the tragic, they struck out a new course in their inartificial drama. They were at all events inventors, for they had no prototypes. Every poet was an original, _more suo_, mindless of the enc.u.mbering alloy, for they knew that the vein they had opened was their own, and confided too frequently in its abundance to find its richness. It was a spontaneous burst which broke forth in the excitement of these new times, and which, as far as the careless prodigality of the vernacular genius is concerned, in the raciness of its idiom, and the flow of its conceptions, and the freshness of its imagery, can never return, for the virgin genius of a people must pa.s.s away!

Valueless, indeed, was our early drama held by graver men. Sir Thomas Bodley wholly rejected from his great library all plays, "to avoid stuffing it with baggage-books;" but more particularly objected to "ENGLISH PLAYS, _as unlike those of other nations_, which are esteemed for learning the languages; and many of them," he adds, "are compiled by men of great wisdom and learning."

The perplexities of the founder of the n.o.ble Bodleian Library were occasioned by our dramatic illegitimacy; we had no progenitors, and we were not spell-bound by the three unities. Originality in every kind startled the mind which could only pace in the trammels of authority. On the principle Bodley rejected our _English plays_ he also condemned our _English philosophy_; and Lord Bacon rallied him on that occasion by a good-humoured menace of "a cogitation against Libraries," which must have made the cheeks of the great collector of books tingle. Bodley with excellent truth described himself as "the carrier's horse which cannot blench the beaten way in which I was trained."

In banis.h.i.+ng the productions of the national genius from that national library which his hand had proudly erected, little was Bodley able to conceive, that a following generation would dwell on those very "English plays," would appeal to them as the depositaries of our language, and as the secret history of the people, a history which no historian writes, their modes of thinking in the transition of their manners, in the vicissitudes of their pa.s.sions, and in the scenes of their politics and their religion; and what most would have astonished our great _bibliophile_, that collectors like himself, presuming on "their wisdom and learning," would devote their vigils to collate, to comment, and to edit "these baggage-books of English plays," and above all, that foreigners, after a century or two, should enrich their own literature by the translations, or enlarge their own genius by the imitations of these bold originals.

By emanc.i.p.ating themselves from the thraldom of Greece and the servility of Rome our dramatists have occasioned later critics to separate our own from the cla.s.sical drama of antiquity. They are placed in "the Romantic"

school; a novel technical term, not individually appropriate, and which would be less ambiguous if considered as "the Gothic."[14] At the time when Italy and France had cast themselves into thraldom, by adhering to the contracted models of the drama of antiquity, two nations in Europe, without any intercourse whatever, for even translation was not yet a medium, were spontaneously creating a national drama accordant with the experience, the sympathies, and the imagination of their people. The theatre was to be a mirror of enchantment, a moveable reflection of themselves. These two nations were England and Spain. The dramatic history of Spain is the exact counterpart which perfectly tallies with our own. In Spain the learned began with imitations and translations of the ancient cla.s.sics; but these formal stately dramas were so coldly received, that they fell into desuetude, and were succeeded by those whose native luxuriant genius reached to the secret hearts of their audience; and it was this second race, not, indeed, so numerous as our own, who closed with the Spanish Shakespeare.[15] This literary phenomenon, though now apparent, was not perceived when it was occurring.

Every taste has delivered its variable decision on these our old plays, each deciding by its own standard; and the variance is occasioned not always by deficiency in critical judgment, but in the very nature of the object of criticism, in the inherent defect of our ancient drama itself.

These old plays will not endure criticism. They were not written for critics, and they now exist even in spite of criticism. They were all experiments of the freest genius, rarely placed under favouring circ.u.mstances. They were emanations of strong but short conceptions, poured forth in haste and heat; they blotted their lines as rarely as we are told did Shakespeare; they revelled in their first conceptions, often forgotten in their rapid progress; the true inspiration was lodged in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the hidden volcano has often burst through its darkness, and flamed through a whole scene, for often have they written as Shakespeare wrote. We may look in them for entire scenes, felicitous lines, and many an insulated pa.s.sage, studies for a poet; anthologies have been drawn from these elder dramatists.[16] We may perceive how this sudden generation of poets, some of whose names are not familiar to us, have moulded our language with the images of their fancy, and strengthened it by the stability of their thoughts.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] This Patent, corrected from a former copy in Rymer, has been recovered by Mr. Collier.--_Annals of the Stage_, i. 211.

[2] This singular doc.u.ment, incorrectly given by Strype, Mr. Collier has completed. "It throws much new light on the state of the drama at this period;" and still more on the strange arguments which the Puritans of the day alleged against players and plays.--Mr. Collier has preserved an old satirical epigram which had been perilous to print at that day; it was left for posterity on the fly-leaf of a book. It is addressed to--

"'The Fooles of the Cittee,'-- They establish as a rule, Not one shall play the fool, But they--a worthy school!"

[3] At the inferior playhouses the admission was as low as a penny for "the groundlings" who stood in the roofless pit, which still retained the name of "the yard"--evidently from the old custom of playing in the yards of inns. In the higher theatres "a room," or box, varied from sixpence to two s.h.i.+llings and sixpence. They played in daylight, and rose from their dinner to the playhouse. It was one of the City regulations, that "no playing be in the dark, so that the auditory may return home before sunset." Society was then in its nursery-times; and the solemnity of "the orders in common council"

admirably contrasts with their simplicity; but they acted under the terror that, when they entered a playhouse, they were joining in "the devil's service!"

[4] Two such poor scholars are introduced in "The Return from Parna.s.sus" alternately "banning and cursing Granta's muddy bank;" and Cambridge, where "our oil was spent."

[5] The popular taste at all times has been p.r.o.ne to view in representation the most harrowing crimes--probably influenced by the vulgar notion that, because the circ.u.mstances are literally true, they are therefore the more interesting. One of these writers was ROBERT YARRINGTON, who seems to have been so strongly attracted to this taste for scenical murder, that he wrote "Two Lamentable Tragedies," which he contrived to throw into one play. By a strange alternation, the scene veers backwards and forwards from England to Italy, both progressing together;--the English murder is of a merchant in Thames-street, and the Italian of a child in a wood by ruffians hired by the uncle; the ballad deepens the pathetic by two babes--but which was the original of a domestic incident which first conveyed to our childhood the idea of an unnatural parent? It appears that we had a number of what they called "Lamentable Tragedies,"

whose very t.i.tles preserve the names of the hapless victims. Taylor, the Water-poet, alludes to these "as murders fresh in memory;" and has himself described "the unnatural father who murdered his wife and children" as parallel to one of ancient date. Acts of lunacy were not then distinguishable from ordinary murders.--_Collier_, iii. 49.

[6] Not many years ago Isaac Reed printed _The Witch_ of MIDDLETON.

Recently another ma.n.u.script play appeared, _The Second Maiden's Tragedy_. To the personal distresses of the actors in the days of the Commonwealth we owe several dramas, which they published, drawn out of the wrecks of some theatrical treasury; such was _The Wild-Goose Chase_ of FLETCHER, which they a.s.sured us was the poet's favourite.

It is said that more than sixty of these plays, in ma.n.u.script, were collected by Warburton, the herald, and from the utter neglect of the collector had all gone to singe his fowls. When THEOBALD solemnly declared that his play, _The Double Falsehood_, was written by Shakespeare, it was probably one of these old ma.n.u.script plays. This drama was not unsuccessful; nor had Theobald shot far wide of the mark, since Farmer ascribed it to s.h.i.+rley, and Malone to Ma.s.singer.

[7] See the last and enlarged edition of Charles Lamb's "Specimens of the English Dramatic Poets." In the second volume, in "Extracts from the Garrick Plays," under the odd names of _"Doctor Dodypol, a comedy_, 1600," we have scenes exquisitely fanciful--and _Jack Drum's Entertainment_, 1601, where "the free humour of a n.o.ble housekeeper"

may be placed by the side of the most finished pa.s.sages even in Shakespeare. Yet _Doctor Dodypol_ has wholly escaped the notice even of catalogue-scribes--and _Jack Drum_ is not noticed by the collectors of these old plays. I only know these two dramas by the excerpts of Lamb; but if the originals are tolerably equal with "The Specimens," I should place these unknown dramas among the most interesting ones.

[8] By the discovery of the Diary of Henslow, the illiterate manager of the theatre, connected with Edward Alleyn. Henslow was the p.a.w.nbroker of the company, and the chancellor of its exchequer. He could not spell the t.i.tles of the plays; yet, in about five years, 160 were his property. He had not less than thirty different authors in his pay.--_Collier_, iii. 105. [His Diary has been published by the Shakespeare Society under the editors.h.i.+p of Mr. Payne Collier.--ED.]

[9] Marlow--Nash--Greene--Peele.

[10] When Pope translated Homer, Chapman's version lay open before him. The same circ.u.mstance, as I have witnessed, occurred with the last translator--Mr. Sotheby. Charles Lamb justly appreciated Chapman, when he observed, that "He would have made a great epic poet, if indeed he has not abundantly shown himself to be one; for his Homer is not so properly a translation, as the stories of Achilles and Ulysses rewritten. The earnestness and pa.s.sion which he has put into every part of these poems would be incredible to a reader of more modern translations."

The striking portrait of Chapman is prefixed to Mr. Singer's elegant edition of this poet's version of Homer's "Battle of the Frogs and the Mice"--and the Hymns. His _Iliad_, collated with his last corrections and alterations, well deserves to fill a stationary niche in our poetical library. Chapman has, above all our poets, most boldly, or most gracefully, struck out those "words that burn"--compound epithets.

[11] An original leaf of the ma.n.u.script of one of Marlow's plays, in the possession of Mr. J. P. Collier, is a singular literary curiosity. On a collation with the printed copy, the mutilations are not only excessive, but betray a defective judgment. An elaborate speech, designed by the poet to develope the character of the famous Guise, was cut down to four meagre lines.--_Annals of the Stage_, iii. 134.

[12] Charles Lamb has alluded to this fact; and, in one of his moments of enthusiasm, exclaims--"This was the n.o.ble practice of these times." Would not the usual practice of a man of genius, working his own drama, be "n.o.bler?" We presume the unity of feeling can only emanate from a single mind. In the instance here alluded to we should often deceive ourselves if we supposed, from the combination of names which appear on the old t.i.tlepages, that those who are specified were always _simultaneously employed_ in the new direction of the same play. Poets were often called in to alter the old or to supply the new, which has occasioned incongruities which probably were not to be found in the original state.

[13] Green, Nash, Lyly, Peele, and Marston were from the university--Marlow and Chapman were exquisite translators from the Greek.

[14] The term, the Romantic School, is derived from the _langue Romans_ or _Romane_, under which comprehensive t.i.tle all the modern languages may be included; formed, as they are, out of the wrecks of the Latin or _Roman_ language. However this may apply to the origin of the _languages_, the term is not expressive of the _genius_ of the people. In the common sense of the term "Romantic," the aeneid of Virgil is as much a Romance as that of Arthur and his knights. The term "Romantic School" is therefore not definite. By adopting the term _Gothic_, in opposition to the _Cla.s.sical_, we fix the origin, and indicate the species.

[15] Bouterwek's Hist. of Spanish Lit. i. 128.

[16] Two of these collections are to be valued.

"COTGRAVE'S English Treasury of Wit and Language," 1655. He neglected to furnish the names of the dramatic writers from whom he drew the pa.s.sages. Oldys, with singular diligence, succeeded in recovering these numerous sources, which I transcribed from his ma.n.u.script notes. Oldys' copy should now repose in the library of Mr. Douce, given to the Bodleian.

A collection incomparably preferable to all preceding ones is "The British Muse, or a Collection of Thoughts--Moral, Natural, or Sublime--of our English poets who flourished in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries," by THOMAS HAYWARD, gent. 1732, in three volumes. It took a new t.i.tle, not a new edition, as "The Quintessence of English Poetry." Such a t.i.tle could not recommend itself. The prefatory matter was designed for a critical history of all these Anthologies, and was the work of Oldys; but it was miserably mangled by Dr. Campbell, then the Aristarchus of the booksellers, to save print and paper! Our literary antiquary has vented, in a ma.n.u.script note, his agony and his indignation. He had also greatly a.s.sisted the collector; the circuit is wide and copious, and there is not a name of note which does not appear in these volumes. The ethical and poetic powers of our old dramatic poets, as here displayed, I doubt could be paralleled by our literary neighbours. We were a thoughtful people at the time that our humour was luxuriant--as lighter gaiety was from the first the national inheritance of France.

Of this collection, says Oldys, "Wherever you open it, you are in the heart of your subject. Every leaf includes many lessons, and is a system of knowledge in a few lines. The merely speculative may here find experience; the flattered, truth; the diffident, resolution, &c." For my part, I think of these volumes as highly as Oldys himself.

But what has occasioned the little success of these collections of single pa.s.sages and detached beauties, like collections of proverbs, is the confusion of their variety. We are pleased at every glance; till the eye, in weariness, closes over the volume which we neglect to re-open.

CHARLES LAMB'S "Specimens of English Dramatic Poets" is of deeper interest. He was a n.o.bler workman, and he carries us on through whole scenes by a true unerring emotion. His was a poetical mind labouring in poetry.

SHAKESPEARE.

The vicissitudes of the celebrity of Shakespeare may form a chapter in the philosophy of literature and the history of national opinions.

Shakespeare was destined to have his dramatic faculty contested by many successful rivals, to fall into neglect, to be rarely acted and less read, to appear barbarous and unintelligible, to be even discarded from the glorious file of dramatists by the anathemas of hostile criticism; and finally, in the resurrection of genius (a rare occurrence!) to emerge into universal celebrity. This literary history of Shakespeare is an incident in the history of the human mind singular as the genius which it relates to. The philosopher now contemplates the phenomenon of a poet who in his peculiar excellence is more poetical than the poets of every other people. We have to track the course of this prodigy, and if possible to comprehend the evolutions of this solitary luminary. It is knowledge which finally must direct our feelings in the operations of the mind as well as in the phenomena of nature. We are conscious that even the anomalous is regulated by its own proper motion, and that there is nothing in human nature so arbitrary as to stand by itself so completely insulated as to be an effect without a cause.

SHAKESPEARE is a poet who is always now separated from other poets, and the only one, except POPE, whose thoughts are familiar to us as household words. His eulogy has exhausted the language of every cla.s.s of enthusiasts, the learned and the unlearned, the profound and the fantastical. The writings of this greatest of dramatists are, as once were those of Homer, a Bible whence we receive those other revelations of man, and of all that concerns man. There was no excess of wonder and admiration when HURD declared that "This astonis.h.i.+ng man is the most original THINKER and SPEAKER since the days of HOMER."