pleases him, and carries on the thread of his story. This perpetual varying and shifting the Scene, is a conftant caufe of offence to many who set up for admirers of the ancients. 3 Johnson, who thought 3. In his prologue to Every man in his humour. Sir Philip Sydney, in his defence of poefie, has the following no bad remark. "Our tragedies and comedies, not with"out caufe cried out againft, obferving rules neither of "honeft civilitie, nor skilful poetrie. Excepting Gorbo ducke (againe I fay of those that I have feene) which "notwithstanding, as it is full of stately fpeeches, and well "founding phrases, climing to the height of Seneca his "ftile, and as full of notable moralitie, which it doth most "delightfully teach, and so obtaine the very end of poefie. "Yet in truth it is very defectuous in the circumstances, "which grieves me, because it might not remaine as an "exact modell of all tragedies. For it is faultie both in 66 place and time, the two neceffarie companions of all cor"poral actions. For where the stage should alway repre"fent but one place; and the uttermoft time presupposed " in it should bee, both by Aristotle's precept, and common " reason, but one day; there are both many days, and many places inartificially imagined. But if it be fo in Gorboducke, how much more in all the reft? where you "fhall have Afia of the one fide and Affricke on the other, and fo many other under-kingdoms, that the plaier when " he comes in, must ever begin with telling where he is, or "elfe the tale will not be conceived. "three ladies walke to gather flowers, and then we must "beleeve the stage to bee a garden. By and by we heare Now fhall you have news thought it a poetical fin to tranfgress the rules of the Grecians, and old Romans, has this glance at his friend Shakespeare. To make a child now fwaddled to proceed news of shipwracke in the fame place, then wee are to "blame if we accept it not for a rocke. Upon the backe of "that comes out a hideous monster with fire and smoke, "and then the miferable beholders are bound to take it for 66 a cave while in the mean time two armies flie in, repre"fented with foure fwordes and bucklers, and then what "hard heart will not receive it for a pitched field? Now of "time they are much more liberal: for ordinarie it is, that "two young princes fall in love; after many traverses shee "is got with childe, delivered of a faire boy, hee is loft, groweth a man, falleth in love, and is ready to get another "childe; and all this in two houres fpace: which how "abfurd it is in sense, even sense may imagine. * * * But 66 befides thefe groffe abfurdities, how all their playes bee "neither right tragedies, nor right comedies, mingling kings and clownes, not because the matter so carrieth it, "but thruft in the clowne by head and shoulders to play a part in majesticall matters, with neither decency nor dif"cretion: fo as neither the admiration and commiferation, nor the right sportfulneffe, is by their mongrell tragicomedy obtained. *** I know the ancients have one or two examples of tragicomedies, as Plautus hath Amphrituo. But if we marke them well, we shall finde "that they never, or very daintily match horne-pipes and 66 66 66 funerals. *** The whole tract of a comedie fhould be "full of delight, as the tragedie should be still maintained in a well raised admiration." Paft Paft threefcore years, or with three rufty fwords, *Where neither chorus wafts you o're the feas &c. And again in his play, Every man out of his humour: Mit. How comes it then, that in fome one play we fee fo many feas, countryes and kingdoms, paft over with fuch admirable dexteritie? Cor. O, that but fhews how well the authours can travaile in their vocation, and out-runne the apprehenfion of their auditory. Whether the unity of time and place is so neceffary to the drama, as fome are pleased to require, I cannot determine; but this is certain, the duration fhould feem uninterrupted, and the story ought to be one. 4. Sefquipedalia verba. Hor. Art. Poet. . 97. 5. Those three plays relating the hiftory of K. Henry VI. are much the worst of Shakespeare's plays. 6. In Shakespeare's K. Henry V. SECT. AS SECT. X. S dramatic poetry is the imitation of an action, and as there can be no action but what proceeds from the manners and the fentiments; manners and fentiments are its effential parts; and the former come next to be confidered, as the fource and cause of action. 'Tis action that makes us happy or miserable, and 'tis manners, whereby the characters, the various inclinations, and genius of the perfons are marked and diftinguifhed. There are four things to be obferved in manners. I. That they be good. Not only strongly marked and distinguished, but good in a moral fenfe, as far forth as the character will allow. A Thais of Menander was as moral, as you could fuppofe a courtefan to be; and fo were all Menander's characters, as we may judge from his tranflator Terence. They were good in a moral, common, and ordinary acceptation of the word, not in a high philosophical fenfe. In Homer, the parent of all poetry, the angry, the inexorable Achilles has valour, friendship, and a contempt of death. In Virgil, the trueft of 1. Εν μὲν καὶ πρῶτον ὅπως χρησὰ ᾖ. Ariftot. περὶ ποιητ. κεφ. ιε. his copyers, even Mezentius, the cruel and atheistical tyrant, finely oppofed to the pious Aeneas, when he refolves not to furvive his beloved fon Laufus, raises fome kind of pity in the reader's breast, Imo in corde PUDOR, miftoque infania luctu, Et furiis agitatus AMOR, et CONSCIA VIRTUS. Milton would not paint the Devil without fome moral virtues; he has not only valour and conduct, but even compaffionate concern, 3 Thrice be allay'd, and thrice in fpight of fcorn Tears fuch as Angels weep, burst forth. and prefers the general caufe, to his own fafety and ease.' * Nor fail'd they to express how much they prais'd, That for the general fafety be defpis'd His own. So that the Devil's character has every thing agreeable to the modern notions of a hero; but nothing of those christian characters, humility and refignation to the will of God; the great and characteristic virtues of christianity, which our divine epic poet would chiefly inculcate. 2. Virgil. Aen. X, 870. 3. Milt. Par. 1. I, 619. But |