The Spectator Volume I Part 34

As a perfect Tragedy is the n.o.blest Production of Human Nature, so it is capable of giving the Mind one of the most delightful and most improving Entertainments. A virtuous Man (says _Seneca_) struggling with Misfortunes, is such a Spectacle as G.o.ds might look upon with Pleasure: [1] And such a Pleasure it is which one meets with in the Representation of a well-written Tragedy. Diversions of this kind wear out of our Thoughts every thing that is mean and little. They cherish and cultivate that Humanity which is the Ornament of our Nature. They soften Insolence, sooth Affliction, and subdue the Mind to the Dispensations of Providence.

It is no Wonder therefore that in all the polite Nations of the World, this part of the _Drama_ has met with publick Encouragement.

The modern Tragedy excels that of _Greece_ and _Rome_, in the Intricacy and Disposition of the Fable; but, what a Christian Writer would be ashamed to own, falls infinitely short of it in the Moral Part of the Performance.

This I [may [2]] shew more at large hereafter; and in the mean time, that I may contribute something towards the Improvement of the _English_ Tragedy, I shall take notice, in this and in other following Papers, of some particular Parts in it that seem liable to Exception.

_Aristotle_ [3] observes, that the _Iambick_ Verse in the _Greek_ Tongue was the most proper for Tragedy: Because at the same time that it lifted up the Discourse from Prose, it was that which approached nearer to it than any other kind of Verse. For, says he, we may observe that Men in Ordinary Discourse very often speak _Iambicks_, without taking notice of it. We may make the same Observation of our _English_ Blank Verse, which often enters into our Common Discourse, though we do not attend to it, and is such a due Medium between Rhyme and Prose, that it seems wonderfully adapted to Tragedy. I am therefore very much offended when I see a Play in Rhyme, which is as absurd in _English_, as a Tragedy of _Hexameters_ would have been in _Greek_ or _Latin_. The Solaecism is, I think, still greater, in those Plays that have some Scenes in Rhyme and some in Blank Verse, which are to be looked upon as two several Languages; or where we see some particular Similies dignifyed with Rhyme, at the same time that everything about them lyes in Blank Verse.

I would not however debar the Poet from concluding his Tragedy, or, if he pleases, every Act of it, with two or three Couplets, which may have the same Effect as an Air in the _Italian_ Opera after a long _Recitativo_, and give the Actor a graceful _Exit_. Besides that we see a Diversity of Numbers in some Parts of the Old Tragedy, in order to hinder the Ear from being tired with the same continued Modulation of Voice. For the same Reason I do not dislike the Speeches in our _English_ Tragedy that close with an _Hemistick_, or half Verse, notwithstanding the Person who speaks after it begins a new Verse, without filling up the preceding one; Nor with abrupt Pauses and Breakings-off in the middle of a Verse, when they humour any Pa.s.sion that is expressed by it.

Since I am upon this Subject, I must observe that our _English_ Poets have succeeded much better in the Style, than in the Sentiments of their Tragedies. Their Language is very often n.o.ble and Sonorous, but the Sense either very trifling or very common. On the contrary, in the Ancient Tragedies, and indeed in those of _Corneille_ and _Racine_ [4]

tho' the Expressions are very great, it is the Thought that bears them up and swells them. For my own part, I prefer a n.o.ble Sentiment that is depressed with homely Language, infinitely before a vulgar one that is blown up with all the Sound and Energy of Expression. Whether this Defect in our Tragedies may arise from Want of Genius, Knowledge, or Experience in the Writers, or from their Compliance with the vicious Taste of their Readers, who are better Judges of the Language than of the Sentiments, and consequently relish the one more than the other, I cannot determine. But I believe it might rectify the Conduct both of the one and of the other, if the Writer laid down the whole Contexture of his Dialogue in plain _English_, before he turned it into Blank Verse; and if the Reader, after the Perusal of a Scene, would consider the naked Thought of every Speech in it, when divested of all its Tragick Ornaments. By this means, without being imposed upon by Words, we may judge impartially of the Thought, and consider whether it be natural or great enough for the Person that utters it, whether it deserves to s.h.i.+ne in such a Blaze of Eloquence, or shew itself in such a Variety of Lights as are generally made use of by the Writers of our _English_ Tragedy.

I must in the next place observe, that when our Thoughts are great and just, they are often obscured by the sounding Phrases, hard Metaphors, and forced Expressions in which they are cloathed. _Shakespear_ is often very Faulty in this Particular. There is a fine Observation in _Aristotle_ to this purpose, which I have never seen quoted. The Expression, says he, ought to be very much laboured in the unactive Parts of the Fable, as in Descriptions, Similitudes, Narrations, and the like; in which the Opinions, Manners and Pa.s.sions of Men are not represented; for these (namely the Opinions, Manners and Pa.s.sions) are apt to be obscured by Pompous Phrases, and Elaborate Expressions. [5]

_Horace_, who copied most of his Criticisms after _Aristotle_, seems to have had his Eye on the foregoing Rule in the following Verses:

Et Tragicus plerumque dolet Sermone pedestri, Telephus et Peleus, c.u.m pauper et exul uterque, Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba, Si curat cor Spectantis tetigisse querela.

Tragedians too lay by their State, to grieve_.

Peleus _and_ Telephus, _Exit'd and Poor, Forget their Swelling and Gigantick Words.

(Ld. ROSCOMMON.)

Among our Modern _English_ Poets, there is none who was better turned for Tragedy than _Lee_; [6] if instead of favouring the Impetuosity of his Genius, he had restrained it, and kept it within its proper Bounds.

His Thoughts are wonderfully suited to Tragedy, but frequently lost in such a Cloud of Words, that it is hard to see the Beauty of them: There is an infinite Fire in his Works, but so involved in Smoak, that it does not appear in half its l.u.s.tre. He frequently succeeds in the Pa.s.sionate Parts of the Tragedy, but more particularly where he slackens his Efforts, and eases the Style of those Epithets and Metaphors, in which he so much abounds. What can be more Natural, more Soft, or more Pa.s.sionate, than that Line in _Statira's_ Speech, where she describes the Charms of _Alexander's_ Conversation?

_Then he would talk: Good G.o.ds! how he would talk!_

That unexpected Break in the Line, and turning the Description of his Manner of Talking into an Admiration of it, is inexpressibly Beautiful, and wonderfully suited, to the fond Character of the Person that speaks it. There is a Simplicity in the Words, that outs.h.i.+nes the utmost Pride of Expression.

_Otway_ [7] has followed Nature in the Language of his Tragedy, and therefore s.h.i.+nes in the Pa.s.sionate Parts, more than any of our _English_ Poets. As there is something Familiar and Domestick in the Fable of his Tragedy, more than in those of any other Poet, he has little Pomp, but great Force in his Expressions. For which Reason, though he has admirably succeeded in the tender and melting Part of his Tragedies, he sometimes falls into too great a Familiarity of Phrase in those Parts, which, by _Aristotle's_ Rule, ought to have been raised and supported by the Dignity of Expression.

It has been observed by others, that this Poet has founded his Tragedy of _Venice Preserved_ on so wrong a Plot, that the greatest Characters in it are those of Rebels and Traitors. Had the Hero of his Play discovered the same good Qualities in the Defence of his Country, that he showed for its Ruin and Subversion, the Audience could not enough pity and admire him: But as he is now represented, we can only say of him what the _Roman_ Historian says of _Catiline_, that his Fall would have been Glorious (_si pro Patria sic concidisset_) had he so fallen in the Service of his Country.

C.

[Footnote 1: From Seneca on Providence:

"'De Providentia', sive Quare Bonis Viris Mala Accidant c.u.m sit Providentia' -- 2, 'Ecce spectaculum dignum, ad quod respiciat intentus operi suo Deus: ecce par Deo dignum, vir fortis c.u.m mala fortuna compositus, utique si et provocavit."

So also Minutius Felix, 'Adversus Gentes:'

"Quam pulchrum spectaculum Deo, c.u.m Christia.n.u.s c.u.m dolore congueditur? c.u.m adversus minas, et supplicia, et tormenta componitur?

c.u.m libertatem suam adversus reges ac Principes erigit."

Epictetus also bids the endangered man remember that he has been sent by G.o.d as an athlete into the arena.]

[Footnote 2: shall]

[Footnote 3: 'Poetics', Part I. -- 7. Also in the 'Rhetoric', bk III. ch.

i.]

[Footnote 4: These chiefs of the French tragic drama died, Corneille in 1684, and his brother Thomas in 1708; Racine in 1699.]

[Footnote 5: It is the last sentence in Part III. of the 'Poetics'.]

[Footnote 6: Nathaniel Lee died in 1692 of injury received during a drunken frolic. Disappointed of a fellows.h.i.+p at Cambridge, he turned actor; failed upon the stage, but prospered as a writer for it. His career as a dramatist began with 'Nero', in 1675, and he wrote in all eleven plays. His most successful play was the 'Rival Queens', or the Death of Alexander the Great, produced in 1677. Next to it in success, and superior in merit, was his 'Theodosius', or the Force of Love, produced in 1680. He took part with Dryden in writing the very successful adaptation of 'OEdipus', produced in 1679, as an English Tragedy based upon Sophocles and Seneca. During two years of his life Lee was a lunatic in Bedlam.]

[Footnote 7: Thomas Otway died of want in 1685, at the age of 34. Like Lee, he left college for the stage, attempted as an actor, then turned dramatist, and produced his first tragedy, 'Alcibiades', in 1675, the year in which Lee produced also his first tragedy, 'Nero'. Otway's second play, 'Don Carlos', was very successful, but his best were, the 'Orphan', produced in 1680, remarkable for its departure from the kings and queens of tragedy for pathos founded upon incidents in middle life, and 'Venice Preserved', produced in 1682.]

No. 40. Monday, April 16, 1711. Addison.

'Ac ne forte putes, me, que facere ipse recusem, c.u.m recte tractant alii, laudare maligne; Ille per extentum funem mihi fosse videtur Ire Poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit, Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet, Ut magus; et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.'

Hor.

The _English_ Writers of Tragedy are possessed with a Notion, that when they represent a virtuous or innocent Person in Distress, they ought not to leave him till they have delivered him out of his Troubles, or made him triumph over his Enemies. This Error they have been led into by a ridiculous Doctrine in modern Criticism, that they are obliged to an equal Distribution of Rewards and Punishments, and an impartial Execution of poetical Justice. Who were the first that established this Rule I know not; but I am sure it has no Foundation in Nature, in Reason, or in the Practice of the Ancients. We find that Good and Evil happen alike to all Men on this side the Grave; and as the princ.i.p.al Design of Tragedy is to raise Commiseration and Terror in the Minds of the Audience, we shall defeat this great End, if we always make Virtue and Innocence happy and successful. Whatever Crosses and Disappointments a good Man suffers in the Body of the Tragedy, they will make but small Impression on our Minds, when we know that in the last Act he is to arrive at the End of his Wishes and Desires. When we see him engaged in the Depth of his Afflictions, we are apt to comfort our selves, because we are sure he will find his Way out of them: and that his Grief, how great soever it may be at present, will soon terminate in Gladness. For this Reason the ancient Writers of Tragedy treated Men in their Plays, as they are dealt with in the World, by making Virtue sometimes happy and sometimes miserable, as they found it in the Fable which they made choice of, or as it might affect their Audience in the most agreeable Manner. _Aristotle_ considers the Tragedies that were written in either of these Kinds, and observes, That those which ended unhappily had always pleased the People, and carried away the Prize in the publick Disputes of the Stage, from those that ended happily. [1] Terror and Commiseration leave a pleasing Anguish in the Mind; and fix the Audience in such a serious Composure of Thought as is much more lasting and delightful than any little transient Starts of Joy and Satisfaction.

Accordingly, we find, that more of our English Tragedies have succeeded, in which the Favourites of the Audience sink under their Calamities, than those in which they recover themselves out of them. The best Plays of this Kind are 'The Orphan', 'Venice Preserved', 'Alexander the Great', 'Theodosius', 'All for Love', 'OEdipus', 'Oroonoko', 'Oth.e.l.lo', [2] &c. 'King Lear' is an admirable Tragedy of the same Kind, as 'Shakespear' wrote it; but as it is reformed according to the chymerical Notion of Poetical Justice, in my humble Opinion it has lost half its Beauty. At the same time I must allow, that there are very n.o.ble Tragedies which have been framed upon the other Plan, and have ended happily; as indeed most of the good Tragedies, which have been written since the starting of the above-mentioned Criticism, have taken this Turn: As 'The Mourning Bride', 'Tamerlane', 'Ulysses', 'Phaedra' and 'Hippolitus', with most of Mr. _Dryden's_. [3] I must also allow, that many of _Shakespear's_, and several of the celebrated Tragedies of Antiquity, are cast in the same Form. I do not therefore dispute against this Way of writing Tragedies, but against the Criticism that would establish this as the only Method; and by that Means would very much cramp the _English_ Tragedy, and perhaps give a wrong Bent to the Genius of our Writers.

The Tragi-Comedy, which is the Product of the _English_ Theatre, is one of the most monstrous Inventions that ever entered into a Poet's Thoughts. An Author might as well think of weaving the Adventures of _aeneas_ and _Hudibras_ into one Poem, as of writing such a motly Piece of Mirth and Sorrow. But the Absurdity of these Performances is so very visible, that I shall not insist upon it.

The same Objections which are made to Tragi-Comedy, may in some Measure be applied to all Tragedies that have a double Plot in them; which are likewise more frequent upon the _English_ Stage, than upon any other: For though the Grief of the Audience, in such Performances, be not changed into another Pa.s.sion, as in Tragi-Comedies; it is diverted upon another Object, which weakens their Concern for the princ.i.p.al Action, and breaks the Tide of Sorrow, by throwing it into different Channels.

This Inconvenience, however, may in a great Measure be cured, if not wholly removed, by the skilful Choice of an Under-Plot, which may bear such a near Relation to the princ.i.p.al Design, as to contribute towards the Completion of it, and be concluded by the same Catastrophe.

There is also another Particular, which may be reckoned among the Blemishes, or rather the false Beauties, of our _English_ Tragedy: I mean those particular Speeches, which are commonly known by the Name of _Rants_. The warm and pa.s.sionate Parts of a Tragedy, are always the most taking with the Audience; for which Reason we often see the Players p.r.o.nouncing, in all the Violence of Action, several Parts of the Tragedy which the Author writ with great Temper, and designed that they should have been so acted. I have seen _Powell_ very often raise himself a loud Clap by this Artifice. The Poets that were acquainted with this Secret, have given frequent Occasion for such Emotions in the Actor, by adding Vehemence to Words where there was no Pa.s.sion, or inflaming a real Pa.s.sion into Fustian. This hath filled the Mouths of our Heroes with Bombast; and given them such Sentiments, as proceed rather from a Swelling than a Greatness of Mind. Unnatural Exclamations, Curses, Vows, Blasphemies, a Defiance of Mankind, and an Outraging of the G.o.ds, frequently pa.s.s upon the Audience for tow'ring Thoughts, and have accordingly met with infinite Applause.

I shall here add a Remark, which I am afraid our Tragick Writers may make an ill use of. As our Heroes are generally Lovers, their Swelling and Bl.u.s.tring upon the Stage very much recommends them to the fair Part of their Audience. The Ladies are wonderfully pleased to see a Man insulting Kings, or affronting the G.o.ds, in one Scene, and throwing himself at the Feet of his Mistress in another. Let him behave himself insolently towards the Men, and abjectly towards the Fair One, and it is ten to one but he proves a Favourite of the Boxes. _Dryden_ and _Lee_, in several of their Tragedies, have practised this Secret with good Success.