154 C. F. Tucker Brooke, 



There is about Marlowe's genius a kind of fierceness of perception 

 and expression which renders him equally incapable of dramatic 

 impartiality, of incoherence, and of dullness. Life and history he 

 viewed always from one side only, the side of the picturesque ; and 

 what he saw he reproduced necessarily in the most brilliant color, 

 with little of the modesty of nature, but with a glowing feeling which 

 made his picture, however unfaithful to outward fact, inevitably 

 true in its expression of a single clear passion of the poet. Once 

 the predominant emotion is set in play, it courses through the work, 

 and tinges every atom of material. No triviality, digression, or 

 change of attitude is possible. In Tamhurlaine, the hero's lust for 

 conquest rages through every scene. In Faustus, the atmosphere 

 of sulphur and brimstone pervades even such ostensibly comic 

 passages as the masque of the seven deadly sins, Faust's visit to Rome, 

 or the interview with the horse-courser. Never for an instant, 

 I think, in the genuine part of that play, is the central tragic idea 

 out of the mind of either poet or spectator. So it is with the plays 

 we are considering. The True Tragedy, the higher-pitched of the 

 two, contains no spark of comedy, a thing almost marvellous in an 

 early Enghsh history play. The Contention has several scenes, which, 

 handled by any Elizabethan writer except Marlowe, would probably 

 be broadly farcical and digressive; but as they here appear, they 

 are filled no less than the rest of the drama with the muffled roar of 

 civil war. The Horner and Cade scenes, instead of conflicting with 

 the tragic passages, seem to me to tend toward precisely the same 

 effect. 



In an age when the drama was almost universally inclined to 

 excessive range of mood and subject, this constant adherence to 

 the one note is very conspicuous. It made Marlowe a poor drama- 

 tist in several respects : it certainly prevented the normal expansion 

 of his abilities as a playwright. Undoubtedly, however, it permitted 

 him to give unity and force to the handling of subjects which would 

 otherwise have wanted both those qualities. 



It is commonly said that Marlowe lacked the perception of comedy. 

 This is probably not true. A grim sense of humor will hardly be 

 denied the poet by those who have carefully read his works. It is, 

 however, quite true that the student of Marlowe misses both the 

 irresponsible transition from black tragedy to light-hearted merri- 

 ment, so characteristic of the cruder Elizabethan dramatists, and 

 also Shakespeare's judicial power of setting side by side the tragic 

 aspect which a particular circumstance may bear for those vitally 

 interested and the commonplace or even ludicrous view taken by 



