An English Garner: Critical Essays & Literary Fragments - Part 13
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Part 13

"I will observe yet one thing further of this admirable Plot. The business of it rises in every Act. The Second is greater than the First; the Third, than the Second: and so forward, to the Fifth. There, too, you see, till the very last Scene, new difficulties arising to obstruct the Action of the Play: and when the audience is brought into despair that the business can naturally be effected; then, and not before, the Discovery is made.

"But that the Poet might entertain you with more variety, all this while; he reserves some new Characters to show you, which he opens not till the Second and Third Acts, In the Second, _MOROSE, DAW, the Barber_, and _OTTER_; in the Third, the _Collegiate Ladies_, All which, he moves, afterwards, in by-walks or under-plots, as diversions to the main Design, least it grow tedious: though they are still naturally joined with it; and, somewhere or other, subservient to it. Thus, like a skilful chess player, by little and little, he draws out his men; and makes his p.a.w.ns of use to his greater persons.

"If this Comedy and some others of his, were translated into French prose (which would now be no wonder to them, since MOLIERE has lately given them Plays out of Verse; which have not displeased them), I believe the controversy would soon be decided betwixt the two nations: even making them, the judges.

"But we need not call our heroes to our aid. Be it spoken to the honour of the English! our nation can never want, in any age, such, who are able to dispute the Empire of Wit with any people in the universe. And though the fury of a Civil War, and power (for twenty years together [1640-1660 A.D.]) abandoned to a barbarous race of men, enemies of all good learning[10], had buried the Muses under the ruins of Monarchy: yet, with the Restoration of our happiness [1660], we see revived Poesy lifting up its head, and already shaking off the rubbish, which lay so heavy upon it.

"We have seen, since His Majesty's return, many Dramatic Poems which yield not to those of any foreign nation, and which deserve all laurels but the English. I will set aside flattery and envy. It cannot be denied but we have had some little blemish, either in the Plot or Writing of all those plays which have been made within these seven years; and, perhaps, there is no nation in the world so quick to discern them, or so difficult to pardon them, as ours: yet, if we can persuade ourselves to use the candour of that Poet [_HORACE_], who, though the most severe of critics, has left us this caution, by which to moderate our censures.

"_Ubi plum nitent in carmine non ego paucis offendar maculis._

"If, in consideration of their many and great beauties, we can wink at some slight and little imperfections; if we, I say, can be thus equal to ourselves: I ask no favour from the French.

"And if I do not venture upon any particular judgement of our late Plays: 'tis out of the consideration which an ancient writer gives me. _Vivorum, ut magna admiratio ita censura difficilis_; 'betwixt the extremes of admiration and malice, 'tis hard to judge uprightly of the living.' Only, I think it may be permitted me to say, that as it is no lessening to us, to yield to some Plays (and those not many) of our nation, in the last Age: so can it be no addition, to p.r.o.nounce of our present Poets, that _they have far surpa.s.sed all the Ancients, and the Modern Writers of other countries_."

This, my Lord! [_i.e., the Dedicatee, the Lord BUCKHURST, p. 503] was the substance of what was then spoke, on that occasion: and LISIDEIUS, I think, was going to reply; when he was prevented thus by CRITES.

"I am confident," said he, "the most material things that can be said, have been already urged, on either side. If they have not; I must beg of LISIDEIUS, that he will defer his answer till another time. For I confess I have a joint quarrel to you both: because you have concluded [pp. 539, 548], without any reason given for it, that _Rhyme is proper for the Stage._

"I will not dispute how ancient it hath been among us to write this way.

Perhaps our ancestors knew no better, till SHAKESPEARE's time, I will grant, it was not altogether left by him; and that PLETCHER and BEN JOHNSON used it frequently in their Pastorals, and sometimes in other Plays.

"Farther; I will not argue, whether we received it originally from our own countrymen, or from the French. For that is an inquiry of as little benefit as theirs, who, in the midst of the Great Plague [1665], were not so solicitous to provide against it; as to know whether we had it from the malignity of our own air, or by transportation from Holland.

"I have therefore only to affirm that _it is not allowable in serious Plays._ For Comedies, I find you are already concluding with me.

"To prove this, I might satisfy myself to tell you, _how much in vain it is, for you, to strive against the stream of the People's inclination!_ the greatest part of whom, are prepossessed so much with those excellent plays of SHAKESPEARE, FLETCHER, and BEN. JOHNSON, which have been written _out_ of Rhyme, that (except you could bring them such as were written better _in_ it; and those, too, by persons of equal reputation with them) it will be impossible for you to gain your cause with them: who will (still) be judges. This it is to which, in fine, all your reasons must submit. The unanimous consent of an audience is so powerful, that even JULIUS CAESAR (as MACROBIOS reports of him), when he, was Perpetual Dictator, was not able to balance it, on the other side: but when LABERIUS, a Roman knight, at his request, contended in the _Mime_ with another poet; he was forced to cry out, _Etiam favente me victus es Liberi_.

"But I will not, on this occasion, take the advantage of the greater number; but only urge such reasons against Rhyme, as I find in the writings of those who have argued for the other way.

"First, then, I am of opinion, that Rhyme is unnatural in a Play, because _Dialogue,_ there, _is presented as the effect of sudden thought._ For a Play is the Imitation of Nature: and since no man, without premeditation, speaks in rhyme; neither ought he to do it on the Stage. This hinders not but the Fancy may be, there, elevated to a higher pitch of thought than it is in ordinary discourse; for there is a probability that men of excellent and quick parts, may speak n.o.ble things _ex tempore_: but those thoughts are never fettered with the numbers and sound of Verse, without study; and therefore it cannot be but unnatural, _to present the most free way of speaking, in that which is the most constrained_.

"'For this reason,' says ARISTOTLE, ''tis best, to write Tragedy in that kind of Verse, which is the least such, or which is nearest Prose': and this, among the Ancients, was the _Iambic_; and with us, is _Blank Verse, or the Measure of Verse kept exactly, without rhyme_. These numbers, therefore, are fittest for a Play: the others [_i.e., Rhymed Verse_] for a paper of Verses, or a Poem [p. 566]. Blank Verse being as much below them, as Rhyme is improper for the Drama: and, if it be objected that neither are Blank Verses made _ex tempore_; yet, as nearest Nature, they are still to be preferred.

"But there are two particular exceptions [_objections_], which many, beside myself, have had to Verse [_i.e., in rhyme_]; by which it will appear yet more plainly, how improper it is in Plays. And the first of them is grounded upon that very reason, for which some have commended Rhyme. They say, 'The quickness of Repartees in argumentative scenes, receives an ornament from Verse [pp. 492, 498].' Now, _what is more unreasonable than to imagine that a man should not only light upon the Wit, but the Rhyme too; upon the sudden_? This nicking of him, who spoke before, both in Sound and Measure, is so great a happiness [_felicity_], that you must, at least, suppose the persons of your Play to be poets, _Arcades omnes et cantare pares et respondere parati_. They must have arrived to the degree of _quicquid conabar dicere_, to make verses, almost whether they will or not.

"If they are anything below this, it will look rather like the design of two, than the answer of one. It will appear that your Actors hold intelligence together; that they perform their tricks, like fortune tellers, by confederacy. The hand of Art will be too visible in it, against that maxim of all professions, _Ars est celare artem_; 'that it is the greatest perfection of Art, to keep itself undiscovered.'

"Nor will it serve you to object, that however you manage it, 'tis still known to be a Play; and consequently the dialogue of two persons, understood to be the labour of one Poet. For a Play is still an Imitation of Nature. We know we are to be deceived, and we desire to be so; but no man ever was deceived, but with a _probability of Truth_; for who will suffer a gross lie to be fastened upon him? Thus, we sufficiently understand that the scenes [_i.e., the scenery which was just now coming into use on the English Stage_], which represent cities and countries to us, are not really such, but only painted on boards and canvas. But shall that excuse the ill painture [_painting_] or designment of them? Nay rather, ought they not to be laboured with so much the more diligence and exactness, to help the Imagination? since the Mind of Man doth naturally bend to, and seek after Truth; and therefore the nearer anything comes to the Imitation of it, the more it pleases.

"Thus, you see! your Rhyme is incapable of expressing the greatest thoughts, naturally; and the lowest, it cannot, with any grace. For what is more unbefitting the majesty of Verse, than 'to call a servant,' or 'bid a door be shut' in Rhyme? And yet, this miserable necessity you are forced upon!

"'But Verse,' you say, 'circ.u.mscribes a quick and luxuriant Fancy, which would extend itself too far, on every subject; did not the labour which is required to well-turned and polished Rhyme, set bounds to it [pp.

492-493]. Yet this argument, if granted, would only prove, that _we may write better in Verse_, but not _more naturally_.

"Neither is it able to evince that. For he who _wants_ judgement to confine his Fancy, in Blank Verse; may want it as well, in Rhyme: and he who has it, will avoid errors in both kinds [pp. 498, 571], Latin Verse was as great a confinement to the imagination of those poets, as Rhyme to ours: and yet, you find OVID saying too much on every subject.

"_Nescivit_, says SENECA, _quod bene cessit relinquere_: of which he [OVID] gives you one famous instance in his description of the Deluge.

"_Omnia pontus erat, deerant quoque litora ponto._ Now all was sea; nor had that sea a sh.o.r.e.

"Thus OVID's Fancy was not limited by Verse; and VIRGIL needed not Verse to have bounded his.

"In our own language, we see BEN. JOHNSON confining himself to what ought to be said, even in the liberty of Blank Verse; and yet CORNEILLE, the most judicious of the French poets, is still varying the same Sense a hundred ways, and dwelling eternally upon the same subject, though confined by Rhyme.

"Some other exceptions, I have to Verse; but these I have named, being, for the most part, already public: I conceive it reasonable they should, first, be answered."

"It concerns me less than any," said NEANDER, seeing he had ended, "to reply to this discourse, because when I should have proved that Verse may be _natural_ in Plays; yet I should always be ready to confess that those which I [_i.e., DRYDEN, see_ pp. 503, 566] have written in this kind, come short of that perfection which is required. Yet since you are pleased I should undertake this province, I will do it: though, with all imaginable respect and deference both to that Person [_i.e., SIR ROBERT HOWARD, see_ p. 494] from whom you have borrowed your strongest arguments; and to whose judgement, when I have said all, I finally submit.

"But before I proceed to answer your objections; I must first remember you, that I exclude all Comedy from my defence; and next, that I deny not but Blank Verse may be also used: and content myself only to a.s.sert that _in serious Plays_, where the Subject and Characters are great, and the Plot unmixed with mirth (which might allay or divert these concernments which are produced), _Rhyme is there, as natural, and more effectual than Blank Verse_.

"And now having laid down this as a foundation: to begin with CRITES, I must crave leave to tell him, that some of his arguments against Rhyme, reach no farther that from _the faults or defects of ill Rhyme_ to conclude against _the use of it in general_ [p. 598]. May not I conclude against Blank Verse, by the same reason? If the words of some Poets, who write in it, are either ill-chosen or ill-placed; which makes not only Rhyme, but all kinds of Verse, in any language, unnatural: shall I, for their virtuous affectation, condemn those excellent lines of FLETCHER, which are written in that kind? Is there anything in Rhyme more constrained, than this line in Blank Verse?

"I, heaven invoke! and strong resistance make.

"Where you see both the clauses are placed unnaturally; that is, contrary to the common way of speaking, and that, without the excuse of a rhyme to cause it: yet you would think me very ridiculous, if I should accuse the stubbornness of Blank Verse for this; and not rather, the stiffness of the Poet. Therefore, CRITES! you must either prove that _words, though well chosen and duly placed, yet render not Rhyme natural in itself_; or that, _however natural and easy the Rhyme may be, yet it is not proper for a Play_.

"If you insist on the former part; I would ask you what other conditions are required to make Rhyme natural in itself, besides an election of apt words, and a right disposing of them? For the due _choice_ of your words expresses your Sense naturally, and the due _placing_ them adapts the Rhyme to it.

"If you object that _one verse may be made for the sake of another, though both the words and rhyme be apt_, I answer it cannot possibly so fall out. For either there is a dependence of sense betwixt the first line and the second; or there is none. If there be that connection, then, in the natural position of the words, the latter line must, of necessity, flow from the former: if there be no dependence, yet, still, the due ordering of words makes the last line as natural in itself as the other.

So that the necessity of a rhyme never forces any but bad or lazy writers, to say what they would not otherwise.

"'Tis true, there is both care and art required to write in Verse. A good Poet never concludes upon the first line, till he has sought out such a rhyme as may fit the Sense already prepared, to heighten the second. Many times, the Close of the Sense falls into the middle of the next verse, or farther off; and he may often prevail [_avail_] himself of the same advantages in English, which VIRGIL had in Latin; he may break off in the hemistich, and begin another line.

"Indeed, the not observing these two last things, makes Plays that are writ in Verse so tedious: for though, most commonly, the Sense is to be confined to the Couplet; yet, nothing that does _perpetuo tenore fluere_, 'run in the same channel,' can please always. 'Tis like the murmuring of a stream: which, not varying in the fall, causes at first attention; at last, drowsiness. VARIETY OF CADENCES is the best Rule; the greatest help to the Actors, and refreshment to the Audience.

"If, then, Verse may be made _natural in itself; how becomes it improper to a Play_? You say, 'The Stage is the Representation of Nature, and no man, in ordinary conversation, speaks in Rhyme': but you foresaw, when you said this, that it might be answered, 'Neither does any man speak in Blank Verse, or in measure without Rhyme!' therefore you concluded, 'That which is nearest Nature is still to be preferred.' But you took no notice that Rhyme might be made as natural as Blank Verse, by the well placing of the words, &c. All the difference between them, when they are both correct, is the sound in one, which the other wants: and if so, the sweetness of it, and all the advantages resulting from it which are handled in the _Preface_ to the _Rival Ladies_ [pp. 487-493], will yet stand good.

"As for that place of ARISTOTLE, where he says, 'Plays should be writ in that kind of Verse which is nearest Prose': it makes little for you, Blank Verse being, properly, but Measured Prose.

"Now Measure, alone, in any modern language, does not const.i.tute Verse.

Those of the Ancients, in Greek and Latin, consisted in Quant.i.ty of Words, and a determinate number of Feet. But when, by the inundations of the Goths and Vandals, into Italy, new languages were brought in, and barbarously mingled with the Latin, of which, the Italian, Spanish, French, and ours (made out of them, and the Teutonic) are dialects: a New Way of Poesy was practised, new, I say, in those countries; for, in all probability, it was that of the conquerors in their own nations. The New Way consisted of Measure or Number of Feet, _and_ Rhyme. The sweetness of Rhyme and observation of Accent, supplying the place of Quant.i.ty in Words: which could neither exactly be observed by those Barbarians who knew not the Rules of it; neither was it suitable to their tongues, as it had been to the Greek and Latin.

"No man is tied in Modern Poesy, to observe any farther Rules in the Feet of his Verse, but that they be dissyllables (whether Spondee, Trochee, or Iambic, it matters not); only he is obliged to Rhyme. Neither do the Spanish, French, Italians, or Germans acknowledge at all, or very rarely, any such kind of Poesy as Blank Verse among them. Therefore, at most, 'tis but a Poetic Prose, _a sermo pedestris_; and, as such, most fit for Comedies: where I acknowledge Rhyme to be improper.

"Farther, as to that quotation of ARISTOTLE, our Couplet Verses may be rendered _as near_ Prose, as Blank Verse itself; by using those advantages I lately named, as Breaks in the Hemistich, or Running the Sense into another line: thereby, making Art and Order appear as loose and free as Nature. Or, not tying ourselves to Couplets strictly, we may use the benefit of the Pindaric way, practised in the _Siege of Rhodes_; where the numbers vary, and the rhyme is disposed carelessly, and far from often chiming.

"Neither is that other advantage of the Ancients to be despised, of changing the Kind of Verse, when they please, with the change of the Scene, or some new Entrance. For they confine not themselves always to Iambics; but extend their liberty to all Lyric Numbers; and sometimes, even, to Hexameter.

"But I need not go so far, to prove that Rhyme, as it succeeds to all other offices of Greek and Latin Verse, so especially to this of Plays; since the custom of all nations, at this day, confirms it. All the French, Italian, and Spanish Tragedies are generally writ in it; and, sure[ly], the Universal Consent of the most civilised parts of the world ought in this, as it doth in other customs, [to] include the rest.

"But perhaps, you may tell me, I have proposed such a way to make Rhyme _natural_; and, consequently, proper to Plays, as is impracticable; and that I shall scarce find six or eight lines together in a Play, where the words are so placed and chosen, as is required to make it _natural_.

"I answer, no Poet need constrain himself, at all times, to it. It is enough, he makes it his general rule. For I deny not but sometimes there may be a greatness in placing the words otherwise; and sometimes they may sound better. Sometimes also, the variety itself is excuse enough. But if, for the most part, the words be placed, as they are in the negligence of Prose; it is sufficient to denominate the way _practicable_: for we esteem that to be such, which, in the trial, oftener succeeds than misses. And thus far, you may find the practice made good in many Plays: where, you do not remember still! that if you cannot find six natural Rhymes together; it will be as hard for you to produce as many lines in Blank Verse, even among the greatest of our poets, against which I cannot make some reasonable exception.

"And this, Sir, calls to my remembrance the beginning of your discourse, where you told us _we should never find the audience favourable to this kind of writing_, till we could produce as good plays _in_ Rhyme, as BEN.

JOHNSON, FLETCHER, and SHAKESPEARE had writ _out_ of it [p. 558]. But it is to raise envy to the Living, to compare them with the Dead. They are honoured, and almost adored by us, as they deserve; neither do I know any so presumptuous of themselves, as to contend with them. Yet give me leave to say thus much, without injury to their ashes, that not only we shall never equal them; but they could never equal themselves, were they to rise, and write again. We acknowledge them our Fathers in Wit: but they have ruined their estates themselves before they came to their children's hands. There is scarce a Humour, a Character, or any kind of Plot; which they have not blown upon. All comes sullied or wasted to us: and were they to entertain this Age, they could not make so plenteous treatments out of such decayed fortunes. This, therefore, will be a good argument to us, either not to write at all; or to attempt some other way. There are no Bays to be expected in their walks, _Tentanda via est qua me quoque possum tollere humo_.