Twenty-second Lecture.
The threefold Division of the Drama, intoProtasis,Epitasis, andCatastrophe, or, as others, in the Terms ofAristotle, to the very same Effect, intoPrologue,Episode, andExode, seems very naturaland easy; tho' neither of these Divisions is peculiar to any Act. ByProtasisis meant that Part which is a Narrative of what has pass'd, and an Introduction to what is to follow: In theEpitasis,Incidentsas they are call'd by the Moderns, arise; all Things are in Confusion, involv'd in Doubts and Difficulties; and the Audienceanxious, and trembling for the Birth of Fate. TheCatastropheclears 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 theProtasisshould be contain'd in the first Act. TheCatastrophe, 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. TheEpitasisruns thro' the whole, except the Beginning, and the Conclusion; the former is taken up entirely with part of theProtasis, or the whole of it; the latter with theCatastrophe. 'Tis theEpitasis, 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 theCatastrophe, the last, and most surprizing Event of all.
If what we have now said is true, 'tis plainVossiushas not given a right Account of this Matter. "Of these Parts in Comedy, theProtasis, says he[387], is contain'd in the first Act, and sometimes, likewise, in the second: TheEpitasisin the second, sometimes the third, and fourth, but very rarely any Part of it in the fifth: TheCatastrophetakes upsometimes the fourth Act, or Part of it, but always the whole fifth, or almost the whole. From whence it appears, that the Division of theGreeks, intoProtasis,Epitasis,CatastropheandChoricus, is a better one than that of theRomansinto five Acts: For theGreekDivision distinguishes the Drama into Parts that differ inNature; whereas the other Division into Acts, considers them only as different inQuantity, without regard to any internal Distinction." Now to pass over his mentioningComedy, whereas Tragedy is equally concern'd in this Division, I allow it to be very true, that theProtasisis contain'd inthe first Act, and sometimes in the second likewise; and I will add, sometimes in any other Act; tho' this seems to contradictVossius'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 theEpitasisis 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 theEpitasisis not suitable; and I must be so bold as to deny, what this learned Author asserts, thatthere'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 grantthat the Catastrophe takes up sometimes the fourth Act, or Part of it, but always the whole fifth, or almost the whole. For theCatastropheought 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 hadVossiusany good Reason to compare this Division ofProtasis,Epitasis, andCatastrophe, with that of fiveActs, 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 aTurn of Affairs that were before embroil'd into an unexpected Calm; andEvanthius,(asVossius[390]cites him) aTurn of Affairs to a happy Conclusion, after the Audience have been Witnesses to what has pass'd. Both wrong: For (as the sameVossiuswell observes) both Definitions suit only a Comic Catastrophe, not a Dramatic one in general. His own Definition is just, Thatit is the End of a Play, where Fortune is seen to terminate in good or ill Success.
The great Care in theCatastropheis, that the clearing up of all Difficulties may appear wonderful, and yet easy, simple, and natural. WhatCicerosays of Friendship, is true of the Dramatic Fable, it is a Knot that must beuntied, notcut: 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 anEnglishTragedy, 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,FinisScribitur
Vestibulum ante ipsum, primoque in limine,FinisScribitur
Too soon, undoubtedly, for the Author's Reputation, isVenice preserv'd; too soonthe Plot discover'd, for the Reader's Diversion.
To these three Parts of the Drama,Scaligeradds a fourth;viz.theCatastasiswhich 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 fromEpitasis, in which, according to his own Definition,all Things appear involv'd in Confusion, or Uncertainty.
What the Moderns callIncidents, are such Events as start up of a sudden in the Course of theDrama, that are concomitant to the main Design, and conduce to the bringing on theCatastropheand 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 thatthe 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 benothing elsebut 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, isLove; not so with the Ancients, who seem, in this Particular, to have judg'd better than we do. For tho' it must be allow'dLoveis 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 predominantLoveinterven'd to accelerate the Springs of Action. This Passion, like thePrimum Mobilein the ancient System, drives round the lesser Fires, as so many Stars, within its ownVortex; 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. AllTerence'sComedies are upon the Subject of Love; not so those ofAristophanes: But, among the Moderns, I have not seen one without it. Tragedies there are many, absolutely free from it, especially ancient ones; as those ofSophocles, andEuripides, 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 ofSejanus,Catiline, andJulius 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 ofTerence, tho' in a different Sense, may be applied to each of them,amore abundas; theyabound 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 theChorusof the Ancients, for this, as I once before hinted, they added over and above to theProtasis,Epitasis, andCatastrophe. 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 deserveCensure, 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'dfor the Delight and Improvement of Mankind. Of the first,viz.the Delight, I have said enough already: And as toImprovement, it ought to be the End of all Poetry in general, but of theDramamore 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 byLucianin his Dialogue, entituled, Χαρων, or Επισκοπαντεϛ. 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.
Having discours'd of the Nature and Genius of the Drama in general; the three great Unities,viz. ofAction,Time, andPlace; 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 theDramawhich are already mention'd, and as it is distinguish'd from Tragedy, which shall be treated of hereafter.
The WordComedyis deriv'd from Κωμη,a Village, and ωδη,a Song; because, consisting only of aChorus, and fram'd without Dialogue or Diversity of Characters, it was sung originally inVillages, and was therefore call'd aCountry 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 fromkômosandôdê, because at Feasts (which were under the Care of the GodComus) it was usually one Part of the Entertainment.
When or whereComicPoetry had its Original, is a Question not to be determin'd, whichAristotleaccounts for in this Manner;[393]Αι μεν ουν τεϛ τραγωδιαϛ μεταβασειϛ, και δι' ὡν εγενοντο, ου λεληθασιν. Ἡ δε κωμωσια , δια το μη σπουδαζεσθαι εξ αρχηϛ, 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 theGreeksbegan 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'dequally 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 theOld, theMiddle, and theNew.
Theoldwas 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, asAristotletells us, wereEpicharmusandPhormis,Sicilians; andCratestheAthenian. Their Performances were rough and artless, innocent and sententious. 2. There was, what we now more expresly call theoldComedy; the Masters in which wereEupolisandCratinus, whose Works are lost, andAristophanes, 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 whatHoracealludes to in one of his Satires:
[395]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 alioquiFamosus, multa cum libertate notabant.CratinandEupolis, 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.
[395]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 alioquiFamosus, multa cum libertate notabant.
CratinandEupolis, 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 illAristophanesus'd the very best of theAthenians, the almost divineSocrates. 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 theClouds,AristophanesbringsSocratesupon the Stage by Name, as one of the Persons of theDrama. Indeed, this Liberty of Abuse and Defamation, was allow'd chiefly to theChorus, and was most in Use during the Democracy of theAthenians, especially in the Time of thePeloponnesianWar. But when the Thirty Tyrants had seiz'd the Government, they thought proper to make a Law against it. ThisHoracespeaks of, in his Art of Poetry:
[396]Successit vetus his Comœdia, non sine multaLaude; sed in vitium libertas excidit, & vimDignam lege regi; Lex est accepta, ChorusqueTurpiter 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 theChoruslost, their railing MuseGrew silent, when forbidden to abuse.Creech.
[396]Successit vetus his Comœdia, non sine multaLaude; sed in vitium libertas excidit, & vimDignam lege regi; Lex est accepta, ChorusqueTurpiter 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 theChoruslost, their railing MuseGrew silent, when forbidden to abuse.Creech.
The most learnedGerrard Vossiushas 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 παρεκβασειϛ, or Digressions, which, like the oldChorus, 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 theMiddleComedy; introduc'd between the Old and New, but had a greater Resemblance with the Old. The most celebrated Authors of this Middle Comedy atAthens, werePhiliseusandStephanus; as is mention'd in theProlegomenatoAristophanes. 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 ownCountry; as will be very evident, from what we have to offer upon this Subject hereafter. Such, then, was theMiddleComedy, and was succeeded by theNew, which we have the History of from the same Hand.
"Afterwards, in the Reign ofAlexander the Great, to expose the Vices of great Men, even without naming them, was look'd upon as an Offence to the Government. Comedy, by this Means, entirely lost its ancient Privilege of Correction, and a new Way of Writing was introduc'd, to work up an imaginary Story, and instead ofChorus's, orDigressions, to make Use of Prologues."Vossiusthen gives us a long Account of the Writers of this new Comedy, which we don't think proper to repeat; and observes, "ThatMenander's Character was universally allow'd to be superior to all of them. In these Comedies the Liberty of Scandal, and all the Bitterness of Abuse, was in great Measure laid aside: TheChorus(as before observ'd) was entirely dropp'd, and the new Invention,Prologue, now succeeded. Comedy, at its first Appearance, was nothing else but aChorus; afterwards, Variety of Persons and Characters were introduc'd, and theChorustaken away: So that it was first of all aChorusonly, without Dialogue; and then Dialogue, without aChorus. This new Comedy differ'd very much from the old; the Plots in the old Comedy were chiefly taken from real Stories, in this always from fictitious ones; that was abusive, this had its pointed Satire, but no scandalous and unmannerly Reflections. Nor were the Parts of it divided in the same Manner, or into the same Number of Acts. There was a great Variety of Measures in the old Comedy, but onlyTrochaic, orIambic, in the new: And, lastly, the Style of this was morecorrect and elegant than the old, whose Language, as it was more elevated, so was it less regular and uniform." This new Comedy was the only Sort that ever appear'd upon theRomanStage, introduc'd thither byLivius Andronicus, the Author of Dramatic Poetry among theRomans.PlautusandTerenceproceeded upon the same Plan, especiallyTerence; forPlautus's Way of Writing has a greater Resemblance of theMiddleComedy. And therefore, tho'Aristophanes, considering when he liv'd, and the Nature of his Poetry, was so much, and so justly celebrated; yet, rejecting utterly the old Comedy, the two last Sorts are such only as ought to be included in the general Idea of Comic Poetry: Or, perhaps, by uniting both the last together, a just Notion of Comedy may be better form'd, which, I think, may be defin'd in this Manner:Comedy is a Sort of Dramatic Poetry, which gives a View of common and private Life, recommends Virtue, and exposes the Vices and Follies of Mankind in a humorous and merry Way of Writing.
This Idea of Comedy, is what arises rather from joining both Sorts together, than what properly belongs to either of them: For neither, taken separately, come up to it. Virtue had not its just Commendation in theMiddleComedy, nor Vice its due Correction in theNew: There was too much Mirth in one, and Gravity in the other. This, therefore, is the Definition of a perfect Comedy, not as italways, or indeedgenerally is, but as it issometimes, andalways oughtto be. "Comedy (saysVossius) is divided by someGreekandRomanCriticks into theMoraland theMerry: The first gives a natural and sober View of common Life; the other is all over Pleasantry and Ridicule." And this was undoubtedly a very convenient Division, because it takes the Case as it really is. Of the first Kind, areTerence'sComedies, of the lastPlautus's: But both of them had been more perfect, if they had fallen a little more into each other's Way of Writing; ifTerencehad endeavour'd more to make us laugh, andPlautusto be more serious.
Comedy is defin'd byScaliger[398], to bea Dramatic Poem, representing the Business of Life, whose Event is fortunate, and Style familiar. But to represent the Business of Life, belongs to theDramain general, and may equally be applied to Tragedy or Comedy; and therefore ought not to make Part of the distinguishing Character of either of them. Comedy, indeed, ought always to end fortunately, and the Style should be familiar: But both these are included under that Branch of our Definition which says, it must bein a humorous or facetious Way of Writing. Mirth and Raillery, tho' essential to this Sort of Poetry, are not taken Notice of inScaliger's Definition, and, inVossius's Opinion[399], are not at all necessary in the Idea of it. But is it possible to have any Notion of Comedy, where Mirth and Humour have no Place in it?Scaligersays, in another Place[400], tho' not very consistently, that it was common, both in Tragedy and Comedy, to have the Play sometimesconclude with a Mixture of Grief and Gladness. He seems to have forgot his own Definition of Comedy, where he would have it alwaysend successfully. He mentions, indeed, many Comedies[401],where there it a Mixture of Mirth and Sorrow in them; and the Observation might have been as true of all the rest. For it is scarce, if at all possible, that all the Persons concern'd in an Action should rejoice in the most fortunate and successful Conclusion of it; because, where-ever any Emulation or Competitionrises, it is impossible that every Body should succeed: And were it possible, it would be improper; for Vice should always receive its Punishment, and Virtue its Reward. It is therefore to no Purpose to give us the Instances ofThrasoinTerence'sEunuch, ofChremesin hisPhormio, or of others, who at the End of the Play go off in some Concern. For (not to observe that their Sorrow is very much soften'd in the Conclusion) to make the Event prosperous, it is enough, that in general, and in the main Point, it turns out successfully, and that all the Audience, tho' not all the Persons concern'd in the Action, are dismiss'd in good Humour. WhatScaligersays of Tragedies, (which we shall speak of hereafter) is very true, that theCatastropheneither is, nor always ought to be unfortunate. But certainly a Comedy ought always to end chearfully. And this may serve, by way of Answer, to whatVossiushas observ'd about the doubleCatastropheof some Comedies, which, with regard to different Persons,are joyful and unfortunate[402].
Vossiusdefines Comedy in this Manner,[403]A Dramatic Poem, copying the Actions of the principal Citizens, and common People, in a familiar Style, not without Mirth and Raillery. He therefore manifestly contradicts[404]himself, when he affirms, afterwards, that Mirth is notessential to Comedy. Having given us this Definition, he proceeds thus: "But if we consider Comedy, as ithas generally beenwritten, we might call it,a Representation not only of public, but private Life." Yes, truly, if we considerComedy as itought tobe written, we may venture to say, that it is a Copy of the Actions ofprivate Men, and not of the chiefMagistrates. For by the Actions of theprincipal Citizens[405]he means (as it appears plainly afterwards) those, who are concern'd in the Government, and in the Administration of Public Affairs, which are by no Means a proper Subject for Comedy.
Twenty-fourth Lecture.
But we said Comedy was a View ofcommon and private Life: Not that the lower Sort of People only are to be represented in it; for Gentlemen, and even Nobility, not only may, but ought sometimes to be introduc'd, if they do not appear in a public Character; but by no Means Princes, or Monarchs, or even Persons of lower Station in Government, as concern'd in public Affairs; Circumstances which are proper for Tragedy, not at all for Comedy. Much less should a Deity be introduc'd; for which Reason,Aristophanes, in hisPlutus, andPlautus, in hisAmphitryo, break thro' the Rules of Comic Poetry, by bringingJupiterandMercury, and other Deities, upon the Stage. There is, indeed, as Comedy has been manag'd, two Sorts of it, theGenteel, and theLow; the one consisting of Persons of Character and inferior Life both together; the other of the Vulgar only; and is not properly Comedy, but Farce, nor so suitable to my Definition of it. For this gives a View but ofone Sideof private Life, and that the least creditable. Nor yet are Persons of Condition only to be represented, because we should still see butone, tho' the better Side of Life; and because by this Means we should want Mirth and Raillery, and the true Comic Spirit;which are all best kept up by Persons of low Degree, or rather by a mix'd Conversation between those of different Circumstances. ThusTerence, who, inCæsar's Opinion, wanted somewhat of thisVis Comica, would have had scarce any of it, if we had been entertain'd only with the grave Appearance of hisChremesesandSimo's,Phædria'sandAntipho's; and all the lower Characters ofDavus,Parmeno, orGeta, and such merry Fellows had been omitted.
An Image of common and private Life takes in the Virtues, Vices, and Follies of Mankind; and represents them in their true Colours; Virtue as amiable, Vice as odious, and Folly as ridiculous. Nor does this at all contradict their Definition of Comedy, whichAristotlehas given; where he seems to determine, that whatsoever is truly valuable, and worthy of Commendation, is by no means a proper Subject for Comedy.[406]Ἡ δε κωμωδια, εστιν, ὡσπεσ ειπομεν, μιμησιϛ φαυλοτερων μεν, ου μεντοι κατα πασαν κακιαν, αλλα του αισχρου εστι το γελοιον μοριον.Comedy, as we said, is an Imitation of the worse Part of Mankind, but not thro' all the Enormities of Vice; for it is only some Degree of it that is ridiculous.In this Definition,Aristotle, according to his usual Manner, gives a short and succinct Account of his Subject, not a full and perfect Explication of it. And I may venture to say, that I have offer'd nothing that is inconsistent with this Description, by affirming thatVirtue, as well asViceandFolly, is a proper Subject for Comedy. For when he tells us, that the Characters in Comedy are to be copied from the more ignominious Part of Mankind, he does not say, they are to be copied from themonly: Nor does he mean, that none else are to berepresented in it, but that none else are to beexpos'd, and turn'd toRidicule. And Vices will always appear the more odious and ridiculous, when they are plac'd in full Light against their opposite Virtues.
Mons.Dacier, who has given us a Translation, and Notes upon this Part ofAristotle, affirms, thatRidicule is the only Subject of Comedy[407]; which is neither true in Fact, nor agreeable to his Author's Meaning. I am sensible that thechiefBusiness of Comedy is Ridicule, but not theonlyone.Aristotleintimates, indeed, what we not only grant, but contend for, that great and scandalous Enormities, as they raise some Degree of Horror in our Minds, and are proper for Tragedy, are not so for Comic Writers. But they may bring lesser Failings upon the Stage, and perhaps some which are rather odious than ridiculous: Nor does that great Philosopher advance any Thing to the contrary: For in those Words, αλλα του αισχρου εστι το γελοιον μοριον, he only shews, what we readily allow, that thechiefSubject of Comedy is Ridicule: And he plainly insinuates, that scandalous and great Crimes are not proper for it, when he defines itan Imitation of the worse Part of Mankind, but not practising every Kind of Vice. And yet Mons.DacierdefendsAristophanes, and other Writers of the old Comedy, who (asHoraceobserves, in the Verses before mention'd) expos'd the worst Sort of Crimes upon the Stage, tho' he insists, at the same Time, that nothing is to be admitted in Comedy, but what is the Subject of Ridicule. He attempts, indeed, to reconcile their Practice with this Opinion, by observing, that those old Poets painted even the greatest Enormities in that Light which made them rather ridiculous than detestable, and that theAudience were to consider them only in that View: But it is very evident, that horrid and abominable Vices (such were some of those whichHoracementions, and these Writers expos'd) as Murder, for Instance, can byno sortof Colouring be ridiculous, nor, in the Nature of Things, become the Object of Jest and Merriment. I own there may be some Circumstances attending the greatest Crimes, which may excite rather Contempt or Laughter, than Horror or Detestation, as may be observ'd in the Instances ofTheftandAdultery, whichHoracementions: Nor do I deny, that,in this View, they may have a Place in Comedy, provided they are but seldom, and with great Caution, represented: Tho', notwithstanding all the Caution that is possible, they had better be omitted. For, uponthe whole, all Things consider'd, such Actions are shocking, and can never be so truly ridiculous, as they are detestable. However, to let them make the most of this Concession, it can never be admitted as an Excuse for those Poets who represent Things and Persons as ridiculous, which are in no Respect whatever the Objects of Ridicule. I mention Persons, as well as Things: For Mons.DacierdefendsPlautusfor introducing Kings and Gods upon the Stage in hisAmphitryo, and yet, notwithstanding, pronounces it to be true Comedy, for this Reason, forsooth, becausethe Subject(says he)in itself tragical, is by the Poet turn'd into Ridicule. Which is so far from being a just Vindication of him, that it is the very Fault he stands accus'd of. For what is this, but inverting the very Nature of Things? It is notPoetry, butBuffoonry; nor can the Author of such Dramatic Performances be consider'd as aPoet, but aDroll. Such Prodigies may possibly occasion a Laugh among the Vulgar, who think nothingmarvellous, but what ismonstrous; but Men of Taste, and Judgment, will always treat them withContempt and Aversion. To return, then, from Persons to Things. If we restrain Comedy from meddling with enormous Vices, do we not seem to contradictHorace's Judgment, who says,
[408]——Ridiculum acriFortius & melius magnas plerumque secat res:Illi, scripta quibus Comœdia prisca viris est,Hoc stabant, hoc sunt imitandi.Great Faults are rounded off with oily Sneer,Not mall'able by Strokes the most severe.This was the Drift of all those ancient Plays,In this they may be follow'd, and with Praise.
[408]——Ridiculum acriFortius & melius magnas plerumque secat res:Illi, scripta quibus Comœdia prisca viris est,Hoc stabant, hoc sunt imitandi.
Great Faults are rounded off with oily Sneer,Not mall'able by Strokes the most severe.This was the Drift of all those ancient Plays,In this they may be follow'd, and with Praise.
GreatFaults may, I own, but not thegreatest:Folliesthe greatest, if you will, and sometimes greatCrimes, which (as was observ'd before) may have something ridiculous in the Manner of their Commission. Nor did the Writers of the old Comedyalwaysexpose the greatest Crimes, but Crimes of a less Note, and Follies of the first Magnitude, and are inthis Respect worthy of Imitation. But notwithstanding the ingenious and refin'd Observations of theFrenchTranslator,Aristotle's Rule will for ever stand in Opposition to his Sentiments, and exclude such abominable Characters from being introduc'd in Comedy, under Pretence of exposing them.[409]
Το γαρ γελοιον εστιν αμαρτημα τι, και αισχ ανωδυνον, και ου φθαρτικον. Οιον, ευθυϛ, το γελοιον προσωπον αισχρον τι, και διεστραμμενον ανευ οδυνηϛ.
What we laugh at, is only lesser Failings, some Immorality that is not shocking, and attended with no fatal Consequences: As, to use an obvious Instance, a ridiculous Face is ugly, and ill-shap'd, but without any Appearance of Calamity.
And is this Description ofRidicule ever to be reconcil'd with the most heinous Crimes, such as the Writers of the old Comedy have sometimes expos'd? Do such black Offences affect us with no Sorrow; are no fatal Consequences occasion'd by them? I don't then plead the Practice of these Poets againstAristotle's Opinion, (which yet is a Difficulty Mons.Dacierendeavours to guard against) but from the Nature and Reason of the Thing I arraign their Practice: Tho' were the Point to be decided by Authority, I should always have a greater Reverence for the Judgment ofAristotle, than the Example ofAristophanes.
Crimes, then, of this Stamp, can never agree with Comedy; not that we are for running into the other Extream, and asserting (as I observ'd before) that Ridicule is the only, because it is the principal Subject of it.InferiorCrimes, of the moreodiousKind, may properly enough be introduc'd upon that very Account, because they areodious: Tho' those that are equally odious, and ridiculous, are much moreproperfor it; as Avarice, Arrogance, Superstition, and the like. And others, of a different Turn, if represented in private Life, may, nay, ought to be expos'd on the Comic Stage, as Luxury, and the preposterous Affectation of appearing great without a Fortune, provided this is done in a merry Way, and the Humour is not lost in the Discipline. But Murder, Rebellion, ambitious Thirst of Power, and other Vices of that Strain, belong only to Tragedy. But theFolliesof Mankind (as they are usually term'd) that are not so muchCrimes, asImperfections, that offend against the Rules ofDecencyrather thanMorality, aremerely, and inevery View, ridiculous; and, upon that Account, furnish themost properMatter for Comedy.
But here it is necessary to observe, that all the Virtues, Vices, and Follies, we have been speaking of, take in the Passions of every Kind: For it is a verygreat Mistake to imagine that Comedy should be from one End to the other, a continu'd Scene of Gaiety and Mirth: Some Parts of it may be grave, sententious, and even sorrowful. Nor will any one, I believe, who is a Judge in this Way of Writing, ever find Fault withTerence, who, in theAndria, (to omit many other Passages) bringsPamphiluson the Stage under all this Concern.
[410]Hoccine est humanum factum, aut inceptum? hoccine officium patris?Was there ever such a Thing done, or thought of yet by Man? Is this the Tenderness of a Father?
[410]Hoccine est humanum factum, aut inceptum? hoccine officium patris?
Was there ever such a Thing done, or thought of yet by Man? Is this the Tenderness of a Father?
And a little afterwards,
—Sed nunc quid primum exequar?Tot me impediunt curæ, quæ meam animum divorse trahunt:Amor, misericordia hujus, nuptiarum sollicitatio,Tum patris pudor, qui me tam leni passus est animo usque adhucQuæ meo cunque animo libitum est facere; eine ego ut advorser? hei mihi!Incertum est quid agam.
—Sed nunc quid primum exequar?Tot me impediunt curæ, quæ meam animum divorse trahunt:Amor, misericordia hujus, nuptiarum sollicitatio,Tum patris pudor, qui me tam leni passus est animo usque adhucQuæ meo cunque animo libitum est facere; eine ego ut advorser? hei mihi!Incertum est quid agam.
But, as the Case now stands, where shall I begin first? So many Difficulties cumber and distract my Soul at once; on one Side, Love, Pity for that dear Creature, and the pressing Importunities I am under to marry: On the other, the Reverence due to my Father, who has hitherto indulg'd me in all that Heart could wish; and shall I now turn Rebel to him at last? Mine is a wretched Situation; which Way to turn, I know not.
And tho' the Style of Comedy is generally familiar, yet it is sometimes capable of theSublime. SoHoraceobserves, in his Art of Poetry: