INTRODUCTION CHAPTER I ROMAN PLAYS IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY PLAYS that dealt with the History of Rome were frequent on the Elizabethan stage, and all portions of it were laid under contribution. Subjects were taken from legends of the dawn like the story of Lucretia, and from rumours of the dusk like the story of Lucina; from Roman pictures of barbarian allies like Massinissa in the South, or barbarian antagonists like Caractacus in the North; as well as from the intimate records of home affairs and the careers of the great magnates of the Republic or Empire. But these plays belong more distinctively to the Stuart than to the Tudor section of the period loosely named after Elizabeth, and few have survived that were composed before the beginning of the seventeenth century. For long the Historical Drama treated by preference the traditions and annals of the island realm, and only by degrees did "the matter of Britain" yield its pride of place to "the matter of Rome the Grand." Moreover, the earlier Roman Histories are of very inferior importance, and none of them reaches even a moderate standard of merit till the production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar in 1600 or 1601. In this department Shakespeare had not the light to guide him that A he found for his English Histories in Marlowe's Edward II., or even in such plays as The Famous Victories of Henry V. The extant pieces that precede his first experiment, seem only to be groping their way, and it is fair to suppose that the others which have been lost did no better. Their interest, in so far as they have any interest at all, lies in the light they throw on the gradual progress of dramatic art in this domain. And they illustrate it pretty fully, and show it passing through some of the main general phases that may be traced in the evolution of the Elizabethan Tragedy as a whole. At the outset we have one specimen of the Roman play in which the legitimate drama is just beginning to disengage itself from the old Morality, and another in which the unique Senecan exemplar is transformed rather than translated to suit the primitive art of the time. Then we have several more artistic specimens deriving directly or indirectly from the French imitators of Seneca, which were the most dignified and intelligent the sixteenth century had to show. And lastly we have a specimen of what the Roman play became when elaborated by the scholar-playwrights for the requirements of the popular London stage. A survey of these will show how far the ground was prepared for Shakespeare by the traditions of this branch of the drama when he turned to cultivate it himself. I APPIUS AND VIRGINIA. THE TRANSLATION OF OCTAVIA The crudest if not the earliest of the series is entitled A new Tragicall Comedie of Apius and Virginia, by R. B., initials which have been supposed with some probability to stand for Richard Bower, who was master of the Chapel Royal at Windsor in 1559. It was first printed in 1575, but must have been written some years before. A phrase it contains, "perhaps a number will die of the sweat." has been thought to refer to the prevalence of the plague in 1563, and it may be identified with a play on the same subject that was acted at that time by the boys of Westminster. At any rate several expressions show beyond doubt that it was meant for representation, but only on the old-fashioned scaffold which was soon to be out-of-date. Its character and scope belong too, in part, to a bygone age. The prologue proclaims its ethical intention with the utmost emphasis: You lordings all that present be, this Tragidie to heare Let not the blinded God of Loue, as poets tearm him so, That faire Verginia did obserue, who rather wish(ed) the knife 1 Quotations taken, with a few obvious emendations, from Mr. Farmer's reproduction in the Tudor Facsimile Texts. The hurt of impurity, not of death. introduced, and some of them not only in scenes by themselves, but in association with the concrete characters. Occasionally their functions are merely figurative, and can be separated from the action that is supposed to be proceeding: and then of course they hardly count for more than the attributes that help to explain a statue. Thus, when Appius resolves to pursue his ruthless purpose, he exclaims : But out, I am wounded: how am I deuided! Two states of my life from me are now glided: and the quaint stage direction in the margin gives the comment: "Here let him make as thogh he went out, and let Consience and Justice come out of1 him, and let Consience hold in his hande a Lamp burning, and let Justice haue a sworde and hold it before Apius brest." Thus, too, another stage direction runs: "Here let Consience speake within : 'Judge Apius, prince, oh stay, refuse: be ruled by thy friende : What bloudy death with open shame did Torquin gaine in ende?"" And he answers: "Whence doth this pinching sounde desende?" Here clearly it is merely the voice of his own feelings objectified and in both instances the interference of the Abstractions is almost wholly decorative; they add nothing to the reflections of Appius, but only serve to emphasise them. This however is not always the case. often comport themselves in every respect like the real men and women. Comfort stays Virginius from suicide till he shall see the punishment of the wicked. Justice and Reward (that is, Requital) summoned by the unjust judge to doom the father, pronounce sentence on himself. In the end Virginius enters in company with Fame, Doctrina, and Memory. They 'Altered unnecessarily to out after by Mr. Carew Hazlitt in his >edition of Dodsley's Old English Plays. Appius' words imply that the two principles pass from his life, and the spectators are asked to imagine that they actually see the process. |