12.1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-34
12.4
THE PROLOGUE.
THE prologue of the ancient tragedy was a very different thing from that which goes under its name on the modern stage. It was, in fact, the opening of the piece. We have already mentioned how awkwardly this is often managed with us, and how inartificially by the Greeks [A]. Generally one of the characters, sometimes a god, and sometimes a ghost, as that of Polydore in Hecuba [B] relates to the audience (not to the fictitious dramatic audience, for the first entry of the chorus was usually with the parode, [c] but directly to the spectators) all the preceding circumstances necessary to let them into the story of the drama. [A] Note I, chapter VII. [B] This practice of the Greek tragedies is ridiculed with some humour, in a parody by Lloyd, on the opening of the Electra. I a gentleman did wed, › The lady I would never bed, • Great Agamemnon's royal daughter, • Who coming hither to draw water.' [c] Mr. Warton forgot this circumstance, when he blamed Milton for opening Comus by a foliloquy spoken in a forest. See Mr. Twining's note on the word parode. Difficult
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. Difficult as the task is to open a drama well, like other difficulties the greater glory attends its being overcome, as it has often been by our good dramatic writers. Milton has opened both his dramatic poems in the ancient manner, and among the subjects suited to the drama of which he has left short sketches, he proposes that the tragedy of Macbeth should be opened by Duncan's ghost. Milton did not prefer this mode from any deficiency, or, at least, any distrust in his powers, but from his ftrong partiality to the ancients. How he would have fucceeded, had he chosen the more natural, though difficult mode of the moderns it is impoffible to say; we can only observe, that the fame person has never yet excelled in the drama and the epopee, congenial as they appear to be [D]. It is certainly lucky for his poetical character that he did not enter the lifts with Shakespear in Macbeth, according to the method he has proposed. That Milton, great as his poetical merit is, could have ever fucceeded in competition with that prodigy of human genius in any thing except learning and correctness I can hardly believe; but I am fure the claffic ghost of Duncan would have started, like a guilty thing,' amid the gothic machinery of Shakespear. It is something curious to trace the progreffion of the fame attending this father of our drama. In his own time he appears to have been a univerfal favorite. Indeed he could not have been otherwise. His faults were all committed to comply with the taste of the age when he wrote, and his beauties are such as must delight every age, and every taste for whom the beauties of truth and nature, unadorned by meretricious ornament, have charms. Both his merits and his defects therefore were popular, though probably the last most. He did not however escape [D] See the concluding note of this work. Ee the
the envy of his rivals. Beaumont and Fletcher, whose excellencies are so far inferior, and whose farcical irregularities are so much more glaring, (for there is no incident in Shakespear so absurd as the arming [E] Demetrius. Poliorcetes with a pistol,) and whose indecencies are so disgusting, have more than once levelled a fatiric blow at his fame. And Jonson, the pedantic Jonson, has sometimes censured him obliquely, and sometimes praised him fuperciliously, not as a writer by any means equal to himself, or likely to become his rival in dramatic fame; but in the way a Cramer, or a Haydn, might be supposed to speak of a wonderful musical ruftic, who, without musical education, was able to bring some wild founds out of a violin. Something in the same manner he is spoken of by Milton. But there is a heavier charge against Him in regard to Shakespear. In his Eiconoclastes there is a passage • That fullies even his brightest lays, • And blasts the vernal bloom of half his bays.' Like all other cenfure of the fame kind it misses the intended mark, and recoils on the author; and we are not inclined to think the worse of the unfortunate and misguided Charles because, we are told that Mr. William Shakespear was the closet companion of his folitudes. As the age improved in false refinement, and the opinion of the French critics prevailed, Shakespear became more out of fashion with those who affected polite literature, and to be admirers of the ancients, till Rhymer, and the superficial and pedantic Shaftsbury, at last boldly stept forth and [B] In the humourous Lieutenant.. See note 1, chap. xxiv. condemned
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. condemned him and his works to oblivion. Still, however, this doctrine was too refined for the people, it was caviar to the million, and Shakespear was yet popular. The theatre, to please both the learned and the unlearned, got the plays of Shakespear cut down as much as poffible to the Grecian, or rather the modern fashion, and the stage was glutted with alterations of the plays of Shakespear. At length English criticism grew too strong for French support, and ventured to walk alone. From that moment Shakespear has boasted an encreasing fame; and at this time, when the classics are more universally studied and really understood here, than in any other age or nation, when they are criticised without prejudice, and admired without pedantry, his works are as much idolized by his countrymen, as the poems of Homer were in the time of Aristotle. At present, however, the dramas of Shakespear are more known in the closet than on the theatre. (F) Our dramatic taste seems to have [F] Perhaps this may be accounted for, in great measure, from our want of capital actors, I mean in tragedy; we have many excellent comedians. The power of representing the characters of Shakespear fell with Garrick. From the same source we may derive the prevalence of the musical drama; we have fingers though we have not actors. But that we are not insensible to the excellence of acting when we meet with it, is obvious from the reception of Mrs. Siddons. Strong as the tafte for the musical drama is at present, no finger that ever yet came from Italy could support herself on the stage, through successive seasons, as that unrivalled tragic actress has done, even with better afsistance than those who have acted with her. She alone acted, for several winters, against the opera, and what is still more, against the fashionable hours of the metropolis, and always to crouded houses. 'The degree in which she singly interested the public in the tragic scene, is a circumstance creditable to the English taste. But the dramas of Shakespear cannot be supported by an actress however excellent. Women's characters written for boys to act, can never afford fufficient exercise for the foul-subduing powers of Mrs. Siddons. Ee 2 funk
funk with Garrick. The musical drama has ufurped the province both of Thalia and Melpomene; and we have lately seen one of his most entertaining plays exhibited on the stage as an opera. What would the haughty Jonson have thought of the prophet who had told him that in an age of learning, the works of Shakespear would be in universal estimation, while his own were hardly talked of, and never read. I cannot think even that Milton could eafily have imagined that among a people well versed in polite and classic literature, the [G] stuff of Mr. William Shakespear would be preferred to Comus and the Sampfon Agonistes. The genius of Garrick seems to have been particularly calculated to introduce Shakespear on the stage. He knew how to alter him so as to fit him for the audience of the present day without divesting him of any of his excellencies, and the few additions he has ventured are in the spirit of the original. These plays so altered are likely to keep poffeffion of the theatre, while every other attempt at change and improvement are forgotten, except Cibber's Richard III. and Tate's Lear, which, with fome correction of Mr. Garrick, are still acted, though the alteration of the last is directly in oppofition to the precepts of the Stagirite and Mr. Addison [H]. Cibber, though versed in the province of the drama, (which is, perhaps essential to make a good dramatic writer, fince the knowledge of stage effect is of great confequence,) poffefssed a genius not above [G] 'Other stuff of this fort may be read throughout the tragedy.' (Richard the Third.) [H] See note VII, chap. XIII. EICONOCLASTES. medi-
POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. mediocrity; and Tate was a very indifferent poet. Yet there is a line in Cibber's Richard, written by himself so characteristic of the manner of his archetype that I have often heard it cited as one of Shakespear's beauties. I mean the exclamation of Richard on Buckingham' sbeing taken, • Off with his head! So much for Buckingham.' And I heard Lord Chatham (then Mr. Pitt) quote the following verse of Tate in the House of Commons; undoubtedly taking it for Shakespear's, • Where the gor'd battle bleeds in every vein.' To return from this long digression to the immediate object of the note. The modern prologue seems to derive its origin immediately from the Roman Comedy. The prologues of Terence are very much like those of the present day, alluding to such temporary subjects as relate to the drama, and containing a kind of apology for the new piece. We are not certain whether this practice of the Romans was copied from the comic theatre of Athens, as we have only fragments of their middle and new comedy, but from the known resemblance of Terence to Menander we have reason to suppose it was.