104 



DRAMA. 



nnmaof 



Y .-e. 



the gmt unities. These pieces seem to differ from 

 just as much as historical poems do from 

 11 the Phanalia does from the .J'.nriil. The po- 

 pularity and dramatic cast of tin -. ; M - of poem.s called 

 The Mirror /;/ ' Percy conceives to have 



contributed to make dramatic jx it-try have this histori- 

 cal form. It lias been justly remarked by T. Warton, 

 that the early practice of performing plays in schools 

 and universities, greatly contributed to the improve- 

 ment of our drama. While the people were amu-cd 

 with Sk< lion's Trial of Simi.My. Bale's God's Promises, 

 and Cliritl't Descent into Hrll, the scholars of the times 

 composing and acting pla\> on historical subjects, 

 and in imitation of Plautus and Terence. Hence, ideas 

 of legitimate fable must have been imperceptibly 

 ved to the |xi|ntlar and vernacular drama. In confir- 

 mation of this, Mr Malone observes, that the principal 

 dramatic writers, before Shakespeare appeared, were 

 scholars: Greene, Lodge, Peele, Marlowe, Nash, I.ily, 

 and Kyd, had all a regular university education. From 

 whatever cause it may have arisen, the dramatic poetry, 

 about this period, certainly assumed a belter, thougli 

 still an exceptionable form. The example which had 

 been furnubed by Sackville was (piickly followed, and 

 a great number of tragedies and historical plays was 

 prmluced between the year* 1570 and 1590; some of 

 which tire still extant, though by far the greater part is 

 lost. At length, about the year 1591, the great lumi- 

 nary of the dramatic world blazed out, who singly be- 

 queathed a richer theatre to his country, by his own 

 writings, than the three successive luminaries of the 

 Greek drama gave to Greece in the course of an age. 

 The dramatic glory of England was divided, in point 

 of time, between the latter years of Queen Elizabeth's 

 reign, and the prior of King James's reign. It was 

 supported (as it will be hardly necessary to remark) 

 by Shakespeare ; but one or two of the minor drama- 

 tists of the same age, in particular scenes and passages, 

 and even in some peculiar traits of dramatic merit, were 

 worthy of being his contemporaries. Among these, we 

 may reckon Massinger, who approached to Shakespeare 

 in dignity ; Beaumont and Fletcher, who rivalled him 

 in drawing female characters ; and Jonson, proverbial- 

 ly celebrated for the depth of his learning, and the ef- 

 forts of his learned labour. Until the suppression of 

 the stage by the revolutionary Puritans, the drama con- 

 tinued to be cultivated as the most popular species of 

 poetry ; and the works of Ford, Marston, Brome, Shir- 

 ley, Chapman, and Decker, though no piece of entire 

 and first rate excellence can be ascribed to any of these 

 names, . nevertheless exhibit passages of powerful elo- 

 quence, and of deep though irregular sensibility. The 

 bounds to which this article has been unintentionally 

 extended, will not admit of individually detailing the 

 characters of those writers; but we cannot omit remark- 

 Dramas of ing the style of Chapman, though his general dramatic 

 Chapman, character is not great, as giving a fair idea of that full 

 and heightened style, which he occasionally possesses 

 in a very fascinating degree. In didactic and descrip- 

 tive jKissagcs, he stems the nearest of our old writers 

 to the manner of Shakespeare. The following lines, 

 we hope, will justify the opinion. 



( )pinion, the scale of good or bad; in the tragedy of 

 Byron's Conspiracy : 



There is no truth of any good 



To be disccrn'd on earth ; and by conversion, 



Drunai of 



I'lispiuan. 



Nought therefore simply bad ; but, u the stuff 



i>arcd for arras' picture*, U no picture 

 Till it be fonn'd, and man hath cut the beam. 

 Of his Imaginous fancy through it, 

 In forming ancient kings and conqueror* 

 As IIP conceives they look'd and were attirM, 

 Though they were nothing o : so all thing* here 

 II. HL- all their IMKV s<-t down from men's conceits; 

 Which make all terms and actions good or bad, 

 Which arc but plum and well-coloured thread* 

 Put into feigned images of truth." 



Contempt expressed against the absurdity ei'a-trolo- 

 gical calculations : 



" I am a nobler substance than the start ; 



And shall the baser over- rule the belt 



Or arc they bettor, since they are the bigger ? 



I have a will and faculties of choice, 



To do, or not to do, and reason n hy 



I do, or not do this : the stars have none. 



They know not why they stunt mnrc- than this taper. 



Or how they work, nor what. I'll change my course, 



I'll piece-meal pull the frame of alt my thoughts ; 



And what are all your caput-algols then. 



Your planets all being underneath the earth 



At my nativity '; what con they do, 



Malignant in aspects in bloody houses?" 



Henry the Fourth of France blessing the young Dau- 

 phin ; from Byron's tragedy: 



" My royal blessing, and the King of Heave* 



Make thce an aged and a happy king. 



Help, nurse, to put my sword into this hand : 



Hold, boy, by this, and with it may thy arm 



Cut from thy tree of rule all trait'roiis branches 



That strive to shadow and eclipse thy gl. 



I Live thy old father's angel for thy guide ; 



Redoubled be his spirit in thy breast. 



Who, when this state ran like a turbulent sea 



In civil hate, and bloody enmity. 



Their wraths and envies, like so many winds, 



Settled and burst ; and, like the halcyon's birth, 



Be thine to bring a calm upon the shore, 



In which the eyes of war may ever sleep." 



His soliloquy, deliberating the death of a traitor: 



" O thou that povern'M the keen swnrds of kings, 



Direct my arm in this important stroke, 



Or hold it, being advanced : the weight of blood, 



Et'n in the basest subject, doth i 



Deep consultation in the highest king : 



For in one subject. Death's unjust afl'rights, 



Passions and pains, though he be ne'er so poor, 



Ask more remorse than the voluptuous spleens 



Of all kings in the world deserve res|K-it. 



II. -hould be born gre) headed that will bear 



The weight of empire. Judgment of the life, 



Free state, and reputation of a man, 



If it be just and worthy, dwells so dark, 



That it denies access to sun and moon. 



The soul's eye, sharpened with that sacred light, 



Of which the sun himself is but a beam, 



Must only give that judgment." 



The reign of Charles is distinguished in its dramatic 'I 

 annals by the name of Otway. who, in the pathos of 1 "' 

 tragedy, is inconi)Kirably the master genius of the Eng- 

 lish stage.* No writer has touched the string of do- 

 mestic distress with so much force and feeling. His 

 language has at once the graces of fancy and the tone 

 nfiii.ture. His affecting situations, like those of l.u- 

 ripides, are drawn from the deepest resources of tragic 

 art; and his fables (excepting those scenes of butfooiic- 



It will be easily understood, that this remark alludes only to h! two great pieces, r'cw'ce Prttened and Tin Orphan. 

 Bled at the age of thirty-four, has a right to be judged of only by hi* belt productions. 



A pott 



