I
PUBLICATIONS
OP THE
Modern Language Association
OF
AMERICA
EDITED BY
CHARLES H. GRANDGENT
SECRETARY OF THE ASSOCIATION
VOL. XVII NEW SERIES, VOL. X
PUBLISHED QUARTERLY BY THE ASSOCIATION PRINTED BY JOHN MURPHY COMPANY
BALTIMORE
te
4 HC,
CONTENTS.
PAGE. I. — On the Date and Composition of The Old Law. By EDGAR
COIT MORRIS, ---------1
II.— Cato and Elijah : A Study in Dante. By C. H. GRANDQENT, 71 III.— Practical Philology. By E. S. SHELDON, - 91
IV. — Fate and Guilt in Schiller's Die Braut von Messina. By W.
H. CARRUTH, 105
V. — The Relations of Hamlet to Contemporary Revenge Plays.
By ASHLEY H. THORNDIKE, ------ 125
VI. — The Literary Influence of Sterne in France. By CHARLES
SEARS BALDWIN, ---...-. 221
VII.— The Home of the Beves Saga. By PRENTISS C. HOYT, -. 237
VIII.— The First Riddle of Cynewulf. By WILLIAM WITHERLE
LAWRENCE, --.-..-._ 247
IX. — Signy's Lament. By WILLIAM HENRY SCHOFIELD, - - 262 X. — The Amelioration of our Spelling. By CALVIN THOMAS, - 297
XI. — The Relation of Shakespeare to Montaigne. By ELIZABETH
ROBBINS HOOKER, - -- 312
XII.— Notes on the Ruthwell Cross. By ALBERT S. COOK, - - 367
XIII. — Scholarship and the Commonwealth. By JAMES TAFT HAT- FIELD, 391
XIV.— Aimer le Che*tif. By RAYMOND WEEKS, - - - - 411 XV.— The Comedies of J. C. Kriiger. By ALBERT HAAS, - - 435
XVI.— Contributions to the History of the Legend of Saint George, with Special Reference to the Sources of the French, German, and Anglo-Saxon Metrical Versions. By JOHN E. MATZKE, 464
IV CONTENTS.
APPENDIX I.
PAGE.
Proceedings of the Nineteenth Annual Meeting of the Modern Language Association of America, held at Harvard Uni- versity, Cambridge, December 26, 27, 28, 1901.
Address of Welcome. By President CHARLES W. ELIOT, - iii
Report of the Secretary, ......_. v
Report of the Treasurer, --.._... y
Appointment of Committees, - vii
1. Notes on the Ruthwell Cross. By ALBERT S. COOK, - - vii
2. Augier's L} 'Aventur&re of 1848 and 1860. By A. RAMBEAU, vii
3. Three Swabian Journalists of the American Revolution. By
JOHN A. WALZ, ix
4. A Discrepancy in several of Schiller's Letters. By J. B. E.
JONAS, x
Report of the Pedagogical Section: The Undergraduate Study
of Composition. By W. E. MEAD, Secretary, - x
5. Goethe's Idea of Polarity and its Sources. By EWALD A.
BOUCKE, -_.-__.-. xxv
6. Cato and Elijah. By C. H. GRANDGENT, - xxv Address of the President of the Association :
Practical Philology. By E. S. SHELDON, - xxv
7. The Relation of Shakespeare to Montaigne. By ELIZABETH
R. HOOKER. --------- xxv
8. Classical Mythology as an Element in the Art of Dante. By
CHARLES G. OSGOOD, xxv
9. The Amelioration of our Spelling. By CALVIN THOMAS, - xxv
10. The Influence of German Opera upon Grillparzer. By
EDWARD S. MEYER, xxvii
11. The Work of the American Dialect Society. By O. F.
EMERSON, xxvii
12. Biblical Names in Early Modern English. By GEORGE H.
MCKNIGHT, xxviii
13. On Verner's Law. By HERBERT Z. KIP, - xxviii
14. The Relations of Hamkt to Contemporary Revenge Plays.
By ASHLEY H. THORNDIKE, xxviii
15. The Home of King Horn and of Sir Tristrem. By W. H.
SCHOFIELD, ---.--.-- xxviii
16. The Legends of Horn and of Bevis. By P. C. HOYT, - - xxix
CONTENTS.
17. Literary Adaptations in Gerhart Hauptmann's Versunktne
Olocke. By HENRY WOOD,
18. Lessing's Attitude toward the Sources of his Dramas. By
ALBERT HAAS, xxix
19. The Origin of the Negro Dialect in the United States. By
GEORGE HEMPL, -------- xxix
20. Conflicting Standards in French Literature at the Opening
of the Twentieth Century. By A. SCHINZ, - - - xxix
21. A List of Hated Words. By F. N. SCOTT, - xxix
22. Literal Repetition in Anglo-Saxon Poetry. By WILLIAM
W. LAWRENCE, xxix
23. The Date and Composition of The Old Law (Middleton,
Rowley, Massinger). By EDGAR COIT MORRIS, - - xxix
24. The Life and Works of Heinrich der Teichner. By J. B. E.
JONAS, xxix
Report of Auditing Committee, ------- xxix
The American Dialect Society, xxx
25. Chaucer and Milton. By W. H. HULME - xxx Report of Nominating Committee, - ' -<• - - - - xxx
Election of Officers, xxxi
Report of Committee on International Correspondence, • • xxxii Changes suggested in the method of arranging the programme of
the Meetings, xxxiv
Regulations concerning presentation of papers at the Meetings, - xxxv
Vote of Thanks, ---------- xxxvi
26. The Comedias of Diego Ximenez de Enciso. By RUDOLPH
SCHWILL, xxxvi
27. The Literary Influence of Sterne in France. By CHARLES
S. BALDWIN, xxxvii
28. Friedrich Hebbel and the Problem of "Inner Form." By
JOHN F. COAR, xxxvii
29. The Dramatic Guilt in Schiller's Braut von Messina. By W.
H. CARRUTH, xxxvii
List of Oflicers, xxxviii
List of Members, ---------- xxxix
List of Subscribing Libraries, ---.... lxv
Honorary Members, Ixvii
Roll of Members Deceased, Ixviii
The Constitution of the Association, Ixx
VI CONTENTS.
APPENDIX II.
PAGE.
Proceedings of the Seventh Annual Meeting of the Central Divi- sion of the Modern Language Association of America, held at Champaign, Illinois, December 26, 27 and 28, 1901. Address of Welcome. By Dean THOMAS A. CLARK, - - - Ixxv Address of the President of the Central Division of the Associa- tion : Scholarship and the Commonwealth. By JAMES
TAFT HATFIELD, - - Ixxv
Keport of the Secretary and Treasurer, .... - Ixxvi Appointment of Committees, ..-.-.- Ixxvii
1. Goethe's Faust, lines 418-29. By A. K. HOHLFELD, - - Ixxvii
2. Notes on English Elegiac Poetry, with a Bibliography. By
ALBERT E. JACK, Ixxvii
3. The English Sixteenth Morality Play, Mary Magdalen. By
F. I. CARPENTER, ------ -- Ixxviii
4. Notes on Wieland's Translation of Shakespere. By MARCUS
SIMPSON, .._------ Ixxviii
5. In what Order should the Works of Martin Luther be read.
By W. W. FLORER, Ixxviii
6. Goethe's Predecessors in Italy. By C. VON KLENZE, - - Ixxix
7. Intercollegiate Agreement in English Courses. By DANIEL
K. DODGE, Ixxix
8. An Old Spanish Version of the Dislicha Catonis, By K.
PIETSCH, Ixxix
9. A Comparison of the Ideals in Three Eepresentative Versions
of the Tristan and Isolde Story. By MAY THOMAS, - Ixxx
10. The Technique of Adam Bede. By VIOLET D. JAYNE, - Ixxx
11. The Latin Sources of the Expurgatoire of Marie de France.
By T. ATKINSON JENKINS, ------ Ixxx
12. The Short Story and its Classification. By C. F. MCCLUMPHA, Ixxx
13. Das and Was in Relative Clauses Dependent on Substantiv-
ized Adjectives in Modern German. By STARR W. CUTTING, Ixxxi
14. The Influence of Wilhelm Miiller upon Heine's Lyric Poetry.
By JOHN S. NOLLEN, - Ixxxi
15. An Unpublished Diary of Wilhelm Miiller. By PHILIP S.
ALLEN, Ixxxii
16. The I. E. root sdo-. By F. A. WOOD, Ixxxii
17. Literary Criticism in France. By E. P. BAILLOT, - - Ixxxii
CONTENTS.
VI 1
18. Remarks on the German Version of the Speculum humanae
salvationis. By H. SCHMIDT- WARTENBERG, - Ixxxii
19. The Sources of Cyrano's Trip to the Moon. By JOHN R.
EFFINGER, -- ._-_._- Ixxxiii
20. A Record of Shakespearian Representations at Chicago for
the past five years. By W. E. SIMONDS, - - - Ixxxiii
21. The Symbolistic Drama since Hauptmann. By MARTIN
SCHUTZE, .__...... Ixxxiii
Reports of Committees and Election of Officers, - - - - Ixxxiii
22. The Authenticity of Goethe's Sesenheim Songs. By JULIUS
GOEBEL, Ixxxiv
23. The Plautine Influence on English Drama during the last
Decade of the Sixteenth Century. By MALCOLM W. WALLACE, Ixxxiv
24. The Sources of Ferdinand Kiirenberger's Novel, Der Amerika-
miide. By GEORGE A. MULFINGER, .... Ixxxv
25. Taine. By H. P. THIEME, Ixxxv
26. The Development of the Middle High German Ablaut in
Modern German. By PAUL O. KERN, - Ixxxv
27. Goethe's Schafer's Klagelied. By A. R. HOHLFELD, - - Ixxxv
28. Ai'mer le Che"tif. By RAYMOND WEEKS, .... Ixxxv Final vote of thanks, Ixxxvi
PUBLICATIONS
OF THE
MODERN LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA,
19O2. VOL. XVII, 1. NEW SERIES, VOL. X, 1.
I.— ON THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW.1
It is the purpose of this paper to study the unassisted work of Middleton, of Rowley, and of Massinger for the individual characteristics of these men. From the characteristics thus arrived at, the part each man probably took in the com-
1 The texts used in this paper are as follows ;
Middleton' s Plays ; edited by A. H. Bullen, Boston, 1885. Massinger's Plays; edited by Arthur Symonds, Mermaid Series, 1893. Rowley's Plays ; All's Lost by Lust, London, 1633. (The quarto.)
A Match at Midnight, in vol. ii of Ancient British Drama,
3 vols. London, 1810.
A Woman Never Vexed, in vol. xii of Hazlitt's Dodsley, 4th edition, London, 1875.
In making quotations for the purpose of illustration, I have been con- fronted by a dilemma. If I made them long enough to be perfectly clear to a person not very familiar with the plays, the paper would be too long. But if I cut them shorter, there was danger of failure to be convincing. In trying to take a middle course I fear I have oftenest erred on the side of brevity; I hope, therefore, that those interested in The Old Law will carefully reread the play before attempting section v of this paper.
I desire here to acknowledge my indebtedness to Professor George P. Baker of Harvard University for his courteous and valuable assistance during the preparation of this paper; also to my colleague, Professor Frank E. Farley, for helpful criticism.
1
EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
position of The Old Law will be determined. This assignment of parts will be used as the basis for determining the probable method of composition, and the approximate date of the play.
It will be necessary to consider Middleton's characteristics only as they appear in the seven plays by him published in 1602, 1607, and 1608, since his part in The Old Law is pretty generally thought to be very early. Bullen 1 assigns the date of this play to 1599 apparently on no further evi- dence than the speech of the Clerk in act III, scene 1, line 34; speaking of Agatha, the Clerk says, "Born in an. 1540, and now 'tis 799." Bullen adds, however, that this is " a point on which we cannot speak with certainty/7 Fleay,2 Dyce,3 C. H. Herford,4 and A. W. Ward,5 all agree on this date and evi- dence, but Ward adds that the play " in subject as well as in occasional details savours of the student." Further evi- dence for the early writing of Middleton's part in this play may be found by comparing it in plot and general treatment with six other plays of the same type, usually considered to be by Middleton alone. Blurt, Master- Constable, and The Phoenix, which are known to be early, The Mayor of Queens- borough, Women Beware Women, More Dissemblers besides Women, and The Witch, which it is generally agreed are later, are all of the same general type of plot. They have a tragic main plot and a comic sub-plot. The differences are, the last four are distinctly romantic and tragic in their serious parts; the first two are solved without serious results, though they might easily have ended fatally. The comedy
1 The Works of Thomas Middleton; ed. by A. H. Bullen, vol. i, p. xv.
2 Chronicle of the English Drama; F. G. Fleay, 2 vols. 1891.
3 The Works of Thomas Middleton; ed. by A. H. Dyce, 5 vols. 1840.
4 Article on Thomas Middleton, in the Dictionary of National Biography, by C. H. Herford ; vol. xxxvii.
5 A History of English Dramatic Literature ; by A. W. Ward, 3 vols. ; 1899 ; vol. ii, p. 501.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 3
of the former two is prominent and from distinctly lower London life; that of the latter four is less prominent and concerns people of a higher station in life. Finally the appreciation and expression of the awfulness of wrong is dis- tinctly better in the latter four than it is in the former two of these plays. Now a single reading of The Old Law will show that it belongs with The Phoenix and Blurt, Master- Constable rather than with The Mayor of Queensborough or with The Witch, not to mention the still more evidently later plays, Women Beware Women and More Dissemblers besides Women.
For the present purpose, then, the distinguishing character- istics of Middleton's early work will be derived from Blurt, Master- Constable, printed in 1602, and the six comedies printed or licensed for printing in 1607 and 1608; namely, The Phoenix, Michaelmas Term, A Trick to Catch the Old One, The Family of Love, Your Five Gallants, and A Mad World My Masters.1
In these plays approximately two-thirds of the matter is in prose, and one-third in dramatic or epic blank verse. A few songs, however, that have no real connection with the plays, are introduced here and there, as in BMC, I, 2, 209- 216, where the pages remain, after the action of the scene is over, to sing for us. Another slight exception is found in the heroic couplets now and then occurring in BMC, MW, and M T. Yet this use of song and rime is by no means promi- nent in these plays ; it merely shows Middleton's sympathy with the dominant forms of the drama, and his leaning toward the romantic and idealistic without the ability to give it adequate expression.
All this verse is pretty uniformly regular as to number of feet, and smooth in quality. It is sometimes noticeable, even, that poetical expression is kept at the expense of
1 Hereafter these plays will be called respectively, BM C, P, MT, TOO, FofL, YFG, and MW.
EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
naturalness and brevity. A somewhat exaggerated case, though really typical, is found in FofL, V, 2, 25-36, of which I quote the first five verses :
Gerardine ?
Aurora, nor the blushing sun's approach, Dart not more comfort to this universe Than thou to me : most acceptably come ! The art of number cannot count the hours Thou hast been absent.
This is not mere lover's hyperbole, but it is the writer's attempt to express in good verse a simple though passionate welcome from a girl to her lover. The response is similar and worse. An equally formal and almost antiphonal scene occurs in YFG, I, 2, 1-23. The antiphoual quality of this latter passage is rather unusual, but the formal fulness of the verse, almost if not quite padding, is thoroughly typical of Middleton's longer speeches. The most notable excep- tions to this uniformity of verse are in YFG, which besides containing incomplete verses in several places, has eight double endings in sixteen lines in I, 2, 83-98. A few rough verses, too, are scattered through the plays, like FofL, IV, 2, 2:
Thou power predominate, more to be admir'd, and some irregular ones, like line 97 :
Is happiness sought by the gods themselves, and like I, 1, 105, in MW:
Yet willingly embrace it — love to Harebrain's wife.
But with the exception of a few such lines, the verse errs on the side of dull regularity.
In the distribution of prose and verse, also, Middleton seems somewhat self-conscious. Dignified, serious topics, like love, honor, bravery, integrity, whether they are merely talked about by the characters or whether they are the domi-
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 5
nant influences in the action of the play, are almost always presented in verse. But the moment there is a change to the light and humorous, there is a change of form. The only important exceptions to this occur in YFG. These exceptions, however, cannot be allowed to weigh fully against the other plays for two reasons : first, the verse in these places is essentially unlike that in the other five plays ; and second, although this play was licensed for printing in March, 1607-8, the quarto bears no date, so it may be much later and revised by another hand. A single passage to show the quality of the verse; IV, 8, 48-57 :
When things are cleanly carried, sign of judgment :
I was the welcom'st gallant to her alive
After the salt was stolen ; then a good dinner,
A fine provoking meal, which drew on apace
The pleasure of a day-bed, and I had it ;
This here one ring can witness : when I parted,
Who but sweet master Goldstone f I left her in that trance.
What cannot wit, so it be impudent,
Devise and compass ? I'd fain know that fellow now
That would suspect me but for what I am.
A good example of a sudden change from verse to prose because of the change of theme, is found in P, I, 4. Up to line 197, since law has been treated humorously as the means of gulling some one, the speeches are all in prose; but the moment Phoenix begins speaking of law in a higher sense, the form becomes verse. A similar case may be found in FofLj V, 2, 39-42, where the change is made in the midst of a speech because Gerardine turns from talking to Maria of their approaching marriage, to ask her an ordinary question about some of the less dignified characters in the play :
At Dryfat's house, the merchant, there's our scene,
Whose sequel, if I fail not in intent,
Shall answer our desires and each content.
But when sawest thou Lipsalve and Gudgeon, our two gallants ?
Compare also the curious use of prose and verse in BMC, I, 1, 123-133, quoted on page 12. This practice of poetical
6 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
expression for the serious treatment of serious topics, or for increased effectiveness, is surprisingly constant throughout these plays.
Middleton's early prose is usually well written, adapted to the characters, and conversational. It is for the most part better adapted to its purpose than is the verse ; he seems more at home with it. There are a few exceptions, like the euphuistic prose in BMC, I, 1, 100-104, and the stiff phras- ing in some parts of the induction to M T ; but on the whole, Middleton subordinates the means to the end better while using prose than while using verse. The reader is seldom, if ever, conscious of the style while the characters are talking his colloquial prose.
The people who occupy the important places in the plays are mostly from the lower ranks of society. They are the kind one would meet in Eastcheap or on the Bankside, excepting five people in P, and one of slight importance in BMC. These are two dukes, the sou of a duke, and three nobles. Of these gentlefolk, only Phoenix and one of the nobles are more than puppets in the play. Phoenix, to be sure, develops considerable character ; he and his com- panion in disguise stand out in striking contrast to the law-breakers that make up the rest of the action. But Middleton is unable to keep him from becoming decidedly priggish in his search for the vices in his dukedom. The result is an unattractive hero. Two good instances of his priggishness are found in his apostrophes to law and to marriage. In the former case, Phoenix and his friend have been observing a perverter of the law in his dealings with simple people ; the pettifogger is called out to see a captain, whereupon the friend asks, " What captain might this be ? " Phoenix, rapt out of consciousness of the question, makes no reply but soliloquizes on law for thirty lines thus :
Thou angel sent amongst us, sober Law, Made with meek eyes, persuading action, No loud immodest tongue,
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 7
Voic'd like a virgin, and as chaste from sale. Save only to be heard, but not to rail ; How lias abuse deform'd thee to all eyes, That where thy virtues sat, thy vices rise ! etc.
I, 4, 197-203.
At the end of the speech, the friend repeats his question with better results. The passage on marriage is in II, 2, 162-196. These elaborate monologues are as ill-timed as would be Henry V's speech " Upon the king," if it were to follow FalstafPs caricature of Henry IV, in the first part of the play by that name. It is evident, therefore, that Middleton was unable at this time to fit dignified people into his plays. He does not seem quite at home with them.
It is equally clear that Middleton was considerably interested in the lower classes ; at all events, he handled them much better. His touch is sure and his appreciation is excellent when deal- ing with the common people. He must have known all kinds of men and women of the lower social stratum, from the young spendthrift, Witgood, who got back his squandered fortune by his wits, to Frippery, the broker gallant, who grew rich upon the prodigality of his friends; from the lascivious jeweler's wife, who secretly supported her " friend in court," to the keen-witted servant of the courtesan, who poured a pail of dirty water from an upper window upon the head of a too importunate old courtier. The perfect natural- ness of the whole list of shrewd, reckless, good-natured, immoral characters is unmistakable.
The kind of people who are most prominent in these plays will no doubt account for the fact that in none of the seven is there a leading character who really wins our admiration. However attractive they may be in other parts of the play, without exception they somewhere do things or show charac- teristics that we cannot admire in a hero or a heroine. Not only does the modern reader feel this, but it is impossible to imagine a competent critic of the seventeenth century feeling otherwise. The failure to idealize Phoenix has already been
8
EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
mentioned. In the same play Castiza is made an exemplary lady in most situations, but it is almost impossible to under- stand how she could have married the captain. After calling her a fool for marrying him, the captain sells her to a man who with the captain's consent has already tried to seduce her. Caught in the act of selling, the captain is arrested ; whereupon Castiza says :
Who hath laid violence upon my husband, My dear sweet captain ? Help !
II, 2, 297-298.
In FofL, Gerardine and Maria would make an ideal pair of lovers in many ways, but they are obliged to hasten their marriage at the end of the play that their child may be born in wedlock. In YFG, Fitsgrave and Katherine keep their honor and are shrewd in their actions, but they are priggish in their moral superiority over their friends and associates. And so through the rest of the plays ; not a single character wins unqualified sympathy. Of the two, the men are better understood than the women, but there is lack of full appre- ciation of human nature even among the people Middleton knew best.
The fact that there are no heroes or heroines in these plays does not imply that there are no interesting characters. Like Satan in Paradise Lost, the sharpers and the courtesans carry off the honors. If moral and ethical questions are disregarded, as of course they may be in comedy, there are some excellent people in these plays. There can be no doubt that the police force and Lazarillo in SMC, were irresistably funny on the stage. So were Falso and his servants, and Tangle in P. The exquisite scheming of Quomodo in MT, and his com- plete overthrow by the man he had wronged must have been very effective. And so on through a long list of people like the two old sharpers gulled in TOO, like the broker-gallant and the cheating-gallant in YFG, and like Sir Bounteous Progress and Follywit in M W. Here also, as in the case
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. »
of the more honest characters, the women fall below the men in naturalness; but I cannot help admiring the wit, energy, and good sense of the courtesan in TOO. Aside from the fact that she is called a courtesan, and is treated accord- ingly, her actions and character on the stage would place her on a level with the best in the play. She and Imperia in BMC, in spite of the stigma of their names, are the most interesting and life-like women in these plays. They are real people from the streets of London, full of interest because so thoroughly plausible.
Part of the interest felt in the characters of this class, is no doubt due to the fact that both the men and the women are quick in conversation, apt in repartee, and shrewd in all their dealings. The very fact that so many of them are professional gullers and cheats would make keen wits neces- sary. In five of the plays, all but BMC and P, the hero and the heroine win by the sharpest kind of scheming against no mean opponents. In YFG, as the name shows, there are five professionals whose only business is to show us how such fellows get their living out of the simpler people. In the two plays just excepted there is no lack of sharp practice, though the plot of the play does not hinge on these wit- contests. For instance, Falso's mock trial of his own servant, and Tangle's living upon the gullible court followers, in P, are really subordinated to the rest of the plot, but they are two of the most effective scenes in the play. The same is true of Imperia and her discarded suitors in BMC.
Considering the knowledge that Middleton seems to have had of the London lower life, it is surprising that his plays show so little appreciation of its serious aspect. Even recog- nizing the fact that most of this work is comedy, there still remain places where the serious side of that life can hardly be ignored. Whether he was unable to see it or unable to express it is not very clear. That the latter is likely to have been the difficulty is shown by such cases as that of Penitent Brothel and Mistress Harebrain in M W. Scene 2 of act III
10 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
could have been made just as effective without the actual sin, for that plays practically no part in the action. Middleton, however, allows the sin a place, and without doubt gains in realism thereby; then in his attempt to maintain ethical verity he makes the sinner repent, but in a most formal and categorical manner. So far Middleton seems merely to be unable to phrase a serious situation. But this passage is followed by the entrance of a Succubus in the form of the woman to tempt the repentant sinner back to his sin. At best it is very low melodrama; — but I have a strong sus- picion that the audience thought it excellent burlesque. The temptation, as a serious matter, is as ridiculous as the speech of repentance is unnatural. A few lines will show the temper of the speech of repentance :
Nay, I that knew the price of life and sin, What crown is kept for continence, what for lust, The end of man, and glory of that end, As endless as the giver,
To doat on weakness, slime, corruption, woman ! What is she, took asunder from her clothes ? Being ready, she consists of an hundred pieces, Much like your German clock, and near ally'd ; Both are so nice, they cannot go for pride : Besides a greater fault, but too well known, They'll strike to ten, when they should stop at one.
IV, 1, 14-24.
In FofL, the case is somewhat different. There the serious side of life is entirely disregarded. All through the play we are led to understand that Glister has had criminal relations with Mistress Purge. At the end of the play, however (V, 3, 400-428), the case is dismissed from a mock court, the only place where the guilty are called to account, with a little good advice and a promise to the injured husband that all will be well if he also will do as he ought. On the whole, therefore, it looks as though Middleton knew there was a serious side to this life, and as though he tried at times to express it ; but he did not have a deep and genuine feeling
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 11
for the moral questions that unavoidably underlie the life he chose to portray.
The plots of these plays are realistic in method and motif; only in a slight degree are they romantic or tragic. On brief consideration, five of these plots seem to be little better than a stringing together of effective incidents : P, M W, YFG, FofL, and BMC. In P, for instance, Falso's abuse of justice especially in order to protect his disguised thieving servants, is well connected with his plan to detain his niece's dower. But these events have practically no con- nection with the half insane termer, Tangle, who is largely amusing because of his humorous gulling of others seeking their rights at law. The captain's attempt to prostitute his wife, and then, after failure in that, his attempt to sell her, are quite independent of the other two stories. And yet these varied incidents are mechanically unified by the fact that Phoenix, while investigating the vices of his dukedom, finds all of these abuses and corrects them. Thus the unify- ing element is really present, although quite secondary to the elements unified, for the Phoenix story is secondary in interest to at least three others in the play. However poor such a plot may be, there was plainly a carefully worked out plan at bottom. The plots of the other four plays show similar plan and similar looseness. In JOG, and in MT, however, there is developed a well balanced plot that of itself becomes interesting. The binding together is not in all places skilful, but for the most part it is effective. To a much greater extent than in the five plays first mentioned, these two plays not only arouse interest in the individual situations, but they make each situation increase the interest in the final solution.
Although in most of these early plays Middleton lacked a fine artistic sense in plot-construction, he showed remark- able ability in making effective scenes. Every play has at least two or three really excellent situations; and some plays are full of them, as TCO, and MT. That this fact is
12 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
due to his discrimination and not to chance is shown by the fact that not one of the seven plays is strong in plot and weak in situation, while five are weak in plot and strong in situation, and the other two are strong in plot and still stronger in situation. Middleton's regard for incident is still farther shown by the way effective scenes are introduced because they are effective regardless of their connection with the plot. There are a large number of these, as in BMC, III, 3, where Lazarillo reads a remarkable paper on the way women may get control of their husbands; or in P, where the principal purpose of the main plot is that a number of comic gulling scenes may be introduced ; or in FofL, II, 3, and III, 2, in both of which Lipsalve and Gudgeon drop to pretty low comedy for the amusement of the pit, without advancing the plot at all; or in MW, III, 2, where the courtesan in mock illness entertains company and helps her friend to meet the merchant's wife almost under his very eyes, and in IV, 5, where she traps Folly wit into marriage, neither of which scenes is vitally connected with an important main plot. It is, then, in his ability to choose the right kind of incidents, and to work them up into effective scenes, that Middleton showed the most promise in his early dramatic work.
The fact that these plays are all comedies, and also that in these plays character and plot are less artistically worked out than is incident, would naturally preclude the possibility of developing to any extent important themes. Some, however, are touched upon in a significant manner. Love is conven- tionally romantic, making the lover speak in all sorts of hyperboles, as in BMC, I, 1, 123-133 :
My dear Violetta, one kiss to this picture of your whitest hand, when I was even faint with giving and receiving the dole of war, set a new edge on my sword, insomuch that
I singl'd out a gallant spirit of France,
And charged him with my lance in full career ;
And after rich exchange of noble courage,
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 13
(The space of a good hour on either side), At last crying, Now for Violetta's honour ! I vanquished him and him dismounted took, Not to myself, but prisoner to my love.
Similar extravagant passages are found in FofL, I, 2, 53-57, and 99-102. But this romantic love never becomes the central interest of the play ; it is rather subordinated to other things. The brevity of its presentation is well shown in the case of Fidelio and Falso's niece (she has no name) in P. The niece is given only about fifty lines divided into less than half as many speeches, and all occurring in five appear- ances on the stage. The most prominent romance is that of Gerardine and Maria in FofL. Here the woman appears ten times, but with no lines the last time, though it is the scene in which her troubles cease and she is promised to her lover in marriage. During the other nine appearances she has fifty-one speeches, making in all 208 lines or about four pages of the 108 pages of the play. Of these fifty-one speeches, sixteen have only one line, and but five have ten lines or more. Certainly romantic love is not given a prominent part in these plays, even though it might have been used to advantage in some instances.
The opportunities for pathos are not numerous, and where they occur, are handled with only moderate skill. In one of the best plays, MT, there are two cases somewhat alike ; a father follows a wayward daughter to London, and grieves over her fall, while he in disguise and not recognizing her serves her in her life of sin ; and a mother who has been deserted by a worthless son, follows him to London, and without knowing it though recognized by the son, serves as his drudge and pander. These two situations are practically the only ones in which Middleton even suggests the real pathos that underlay the life he was portraying. And even in these two instances the pathos is not emphasized, and may not have been noticed by the Elizabethans ; at most it is only suggested .
14 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
The principle involved in these plays, almost without exception, can be stated thus : the end plus a small amount of repentance, no matter how sudden, will justify the means and bring assured happiness to all. The only exceptions are that Proditor in P is banished for treason, the thieving boy and the bawd-gallant in YFQ- are whipped, and in several places men who have seduced women or lived with them unlawfully are compelled to marry them. But those who receive even such punishment are few and insignificant, in comparison with those who are forgiven for much worse crimes on promise of better behavior.
In connection with these peculiarities of theme and treat- ment, it should be distinguished that the result is unmoral rather than immoral. Seldom if ever does the language fall from the ordinary sixteenth century coarseness to obscenity. To the modern mind the humor is often vulgar and the expression direct, but it is never salacious. The worst cases occur in FofL, IV, 1, and V, 1 ; but quotations will not show the temper of these scenes, they must be read entire. It will then be seen that attention is all the time centered upon shrewd devices and keen repartee, not upon the sin, the alluring quality of which has not been suggested. It must be admitted, however, that these two cases are very near the danger point of twentieth century English morals, though they are quite in line with certain French comedy, such as The G~irl from Maxim's. Moreover there is a notice- able absence of noise and horseplay like that in The Comedy of Errors. In no place is physical discomfort or suffering introduced solely for the sake of humor, as so frequently they are in the contemporary farce comedy. The nearest approach to this is when the cowardly Pursenet, in YFG, in attempt- ing a robbery sets upon the wrong man and receives a drubbing for his pains; and when Curvetto, in BMC, becomes too assiduous in his attentions to Simperiua, and receives a bucket of water from an upper window ; or when Lazarillo, in the same play, receives somewhat similar treatment. On
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 15
the contrary, the fun is all worked out by the wits in devising comic situations and shrewd solutions. In these two things Middleton must have idealized the life to which he was other- wise so faithful.
Although Middleton for the most part seems to have gone directly to contemporary life for his material, it is not at all unusual to find rather surprising echoes of familiar Shake- spearean lines and scenes. Compare BMC, I, 1, 194-196 :
Lady, bid him whose heart no sorrow feels Tickle the rushes with his wanton heels : I've too much lead in mine,
with Romeo and Juliet, I, 4, 35-36 :
Let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels.
In at least three plays there are resemblances that extend to whole situations. In FofL, 1, 2, 71 ff., Maria appears at the window and talks of her love for Gerardine, not knowing that he hears, in a manner that is strongly suggestive of Act II, scene 2, in Romeo and Juliet. Lethe in MT, 1, 1, 257 ff., has a remarkable resemblance to Gobbo in The Merchant of Venice. In BMC, I, 2, 50 ff., IV, 3, 11 ff., and V, 3, entire, Blurt and his assistants show more than a chance resemblance to Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing. For the present purpose it matters little which way the borrowing occurs ; the important thing is the frequent resemblance to situations and lines in Shakespeare.
In brief, Middleton's characteristics in his early works are as follows : His prose is natural and colloquial j his verse is regular, smooth, padded in places, but seldom lyrical. The most sympathetically handled characters show him especially interested in the people of the lower ranks of society and the slums of London. The heroes and heroines do not win full sympathy, but they are decidedly interesting. Plots are carefully but inartistically constructed, and the
16 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
incidents are dramatically effective. Endless gulling is the main theme, aided by conventional romantic love and good- natured sin duly repented of. These are treated unmorally and thoughtlessly, not immorally and seductively. There is notable absence of pathos and burlesque comedy. Finally, there are frequent suggestions of Shakespearean lines and incidents.
II.
The only plays assigned in the early editions to William Rowley alone, are A New Wonder ; a Woman Never Vexed, printed in 1632, All's Lost by Lust, printed in 1633, A Match at Midnight,1 printed in 1633, and A Shoemaker's a Gentleman, printed in 1638. The last of these has not been accessible to me, so only the first three are considered in this study. Of these three, only A LL has been accepted by later critics as being undoubtedly by Rowley alone. The genuine- ness of WNV is not doubted by Mr. Thomas Seccomb,2 or by Mr. A. W. Ward;3 but Mr. Fleay4 thinks that the original play was by Hey wood. In regard to MatM, Mr. Bullen says, " I strongly favour Mr. Fleay 's view that Rowley merely altered it (circ. 1622) for a revival, and that the real author was Middleton. It is written very much in the style of Middleton's early comedies of intrigue." s Mr. A. W. Ward and Mr. Thomas Seccomb give no opinion ; but the assertion by Mr. Bullen has been carefully considered by Miss P. G. Wiggiu.6 She concludes that there is not sufficient reason to doubt the assertion of the first edition,
1 These plays will hereafter be referred to respectively as WNV, ALL, and MatM.
2 Article on William Rowley, in The Dictionary of National Biography.
3 A History of English Dramatic Literature ; vol. ii, p. 543. * Chronicle of the English Drama ; vol. ii, p. 103.
5 The Works of Thomas Middleton, edited by A. H. Bullen ; vol. i, p. Ixxix.
6 An Inquiry into the Authorship of the Middleton-Rowley Plays', Boston, 1897; pp. 7-13.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 17
that Rowley wrote the play. For the present purpose, therefore, it will be assumed that ALL furnishes undisputed evidence, and that WNV and MatM furnish very strong contributory evidence as to the characteristics of Rowley's dramatic work.
These three plays show Rowley in three different styles of composition. WNV has a tragic main plot and comic sub-plot, with the tragic element resolved without disaster. MatM is a realistic comedy of London lower life. ALL is a tragedy of blood with a slight romantic element and a few comic scenes for contrast. The first two plays are, therefore, like the seven early Middleton plays in plot ; the last belongs to an entirely different class of drama.
Considering the divergence of material and method in these plays, there is a remarkable agreement in style. Each play contains both prose and verse: MatM is all prose except about 130 lines, the other two plays are largely verse. The prose style is not marked by any distinguishing characteristics. It is colloquial and direct, well expressing the kind of people who utter it. The verse, however, is quite different ; that has qualities of its own. Although there are a few rimed lines, they are not numerous, and lyric effects are practically unknown in these plays. On the contrary the blank verse is rugged, vigorous, often noisy ; as though Rowley were trying to produce the Marlowesque effect with- out the poetical power to give resonance to the verse. When excited people try to " do it in King Cambyses' vein," their verses usually trip them, as in WNVy act III, end :
MrsF. No, no, 'tis thine, thou wretch ; and therefore Let me turn my vengeance all on thee ; thou Hast made hot haste to empty all my warehouses, And made room for that the sea hath drunk before thee.
May serpents breed,
And fill this fated stream, and poison her forever. OFos. O curse not ; they come too fast ! 2
18 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
MrsF. Let me curse somewhere, wretch, or else I'll throw Them all on thee ; ' tis thou, ungodly slave, That art the mark unto the wrath of heaven : I thriv'd ere I knew thee.
Such lines as these are frequent, in which smoothness of verse and rhythm are sacrificed to rather bombastic vigor.
In order to avoid needless repetition, comparison of Row- ley's verse with that of Middleton will be omitted till after the study of Massinger's characteristics, when all three men will be considered together. The other characteristics of Rowley will be taken up in direct relation with those of Middleton. This direct comparison of the two men is made desirable because they dealt with such similar situations and worked with such similarity of method that the differences are often in degree rather than in kind. These differences, of course, can be illustrated only, not proved ; but the illus- trations can be made with similar passages, and therefore will carry some force as indications of method.
The difference in vulgarity can be seen by comparing the process by which Witgood gulls Hoard into marrying his courtesan, in Middleton's TCO, and a similar gulling process in MatMj where Tim Bloodgood marries a whore and his father barely escapes the same fate with a bawd. In TCO, but for the fact that the woman is called a courtesan, and is now and then spoken of as having been Witgood's mistress, the reader would hardly suspect her character. In the play itself she says and does nothing which the Chaste Maid in Cheapside might not have said and done. The absence of vulgar allusion and of suggestive details, and the constant keeping to the front of the shrewdness of the tricks by which the old men are gulled, are surprising if we consider the real character of the people concerned. Compare this phrasing with that of the situations in MatM. In the latter play the audience is never allowed to forget the character of the bawd and whore, although they have names to cover somewhat their character. Every time they appear they are
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 19
in their parts, from the time when they capture Tim at the tavern to the time when Mrs. Coote is taken in the chamber with Ear-lack, and then with Sue Shortheels sent away to prison. Their language is constantly suggestive or salacious. The nearest to Sue and Mrs. Coote that Middleton has done, is the courtesan in M W. But there is a marked difference even here. Middleton draws the attention of the audience to the keen wit shown by the courtesan in deceiving the jealous husband and in getting rid of the troublesome suitors, not to the things that are actually going on. In Rowley's play attention is drawn to the vulgarity or indecency of the situation ; in Middleton's, attention is centered upon the humor that attends the situation. This is a distinct differ- ence in method, whatever it may be in morals.
This difference is fully borne out by certain scenes in ALL. In act I, Roderick considers it necessary to employ a bawd. She is brought upon the stage and examined as to her qualifi- cations, with no other result than to make some vulgar jests. There is absolutely no development of character or furtherance of plot or real humor of situation. Again in the beginning of act II, she and Lothario amuse the pit with jests about their occupations in lines quite devoid of any kind of wit or humor; they have nothing but their ribaldry to excuse their existence. In short, Rowley seems to introduce vulgar situations for their own sake, but Middleton because they can be made the basis for genuine humor.
Another noticeable characteristic of Rowley is his constant punning. His manner of using puns to eke out action or in place of it is well shown by comparing two gambling scenes. One is in act II of WNV, and the other in act II, scene 3, of YFG. The entire action of the former scene is as follows : While the men are playing at dice and quarreling, the host of the tavern has to go below to quiet the bowlers. Soon after his return he has to quiet the card players above. Meanwhile the dicers keep on playing and commenting on their poor plays and quarreling. While the host is gone
20 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
the second time, the dicers fall to fighting over the false dice, whereupon the host and some friends of the hero come in and stop the fight. During the brawl the bowlers come in and steal the cloaks of the dicers. While the owners are in hot dispute with the host about the lost cloaks, in come some more friends of the hero, and the real action of the play is resumed. Thus 160 lines are used merely to catch the hero at dice, regardless of the fact that we all know him to be a confirmed gambler. The noise below and above, the fight, the cheating at play, the loss of the cloaks, — all of this has no other use than to let us find the hero in bad company in order that the action may begin. This passage has absolutely no value in itself, and is carried merely by tiresome and persistent punning. In the first thirty-six lines there are no less than nine plays upon words. Their quality may be judged by the following :
Steph. Seven still, pox on't ! that number of the deadly sins
haunts me damnably. Come, sir, throw. Jack. Prythee, invoke not so : all sinks too fast already. Hugh. It will be found again in mine host's box. [The dice are thrown. Jack. In still, two thieves and choose thy fellow. Steph. Take the miller. Jack. Have at them, i ' faith.
Hugh. For a thief, I'll warrant you ; who'll you have next ? Jack. Two quatres and a trey. Steph. I hope we shall have good cheer, when two caters and a tray go to
market.
The larger part of the conversation is just such a weak attempt to take up the words of the last speaker and turn them in some witty way. Apart from this word-play fully one half of the 160 lines have no reason to exist.
Although the scene in YFG is much longer it really seems less padded because it is all the time furthering the plot of the play. Every scrap of conversation and every bit of action help us to a better understanding of the moral character of the persons concerned, and accomplish this end in a witty or humorous manner. Whether or not such a plot is good,
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 21
is not the question here. For instance, in II, 3, 83-104, Bungler explains in a really humorous dialogue, how he has schooled himself to forget whom he would. Lines 50-62, in which Goldstone tries to steal the beakers and gets caught, would make excellent acting. Lines 141 and following, in which Goldstone and his servant manage to fleece the whole company by Goldstone's pretending to be angry that his servant should dare to offer to play with them, is effectively handled. So of all the other situations, notably of the last, in which Goldstone gets away with a large gold cup by not desiring to mistrust anyone there, but by preferring to pay the host his share of its value of it rather than have all the company searched.
The same difference between Rowley and Middleton is evident from the witty scenes in ALL. In this play, puns are the stock form of humor for the clown, and they are the principal form of conversation between Antonio and Dionisia. In the latter case they are supposed to represent polite con- versation which is to result in the two participants falling in love with each other, as in act II :
Dio. Worthy sir,
My noble father entreats some words with you. Ant. A happy messenger invites me to him.
How shall I quit your pains? Dio. I'll take my travil for't sir. Ant. Tis too little. Dio. I think it too much, sir,
For I was loath to travel thus far, had not
Obedience tied me to't. Ant. You're too quick. Dio. Too quick, sir ; why, what occasion have I given you
To wish me dead ? Ant. I cannot keep this pace with you, lady.
I'll go speak with your father ? Dio. I pray stay, sir, I'll speak with you myself. Ant. Before your father ? Dio. No, here in private, by yourself. Loss. I'll stop my ears, madam. Dio. Why, are they running away from your head, sir ?
22 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
Laz. I mean I'll seal them up from hearing, lady. Dio. You may : no doubt they have wax of their own.
Such passages, and a good many of them, show pretty clearly that Rowley believed in punning as a legitimate means of humor, and that he allowed it to carry him quite away from the purpose of the scene.
Rowley's humorous scenes are also helped out in many places by rather noisy action if not by burlesque. In MatM, Captain Carvegut and Alexander Bloodhound are swash- bucklers when they dare act their purposes, as is well shown in the tavern scene or in the first visit of Alexander to the Widow. The Clown in WNV is exceedingly noisy in his objection to his mistress' marriage, and equally so in his final acceptance of his new master. Similarly in ALL, in the beginning of the last act, when the kingdom of Spain is tottering to its fall, in comes Lothario, the king's gentleman pander, with a rope around his neck, scared almost to suicide but lacking the courage to end his own life. He meets the Clown who refuses to help him out of the world, so they make horse-play fun for the audience, and retire. In a word, then, Rowley's humorous scenes contain weak punning, noise, and coarse jest, while Middleton uses real wit in humorous action.
In the matter of plot construction, the difference between Rowley and Middleton is one of conscious method rather than of result. Both men seem to have striven for effective situations at the expense of proportion or consistency of plot. In the tragic part of WNV there is a notable lack of causa- tion. One cannot help wondering just why Brewen should be so willing to sell his half interest in the commercial venture when the ships have returned as far as Dover, and when his share of the profits is known to be worth twice what he sold for. It is a strange coincidence that the ships should all be lost at the Thames mouth just after the bargain was made. Next, one is surprised that the widow should be so anxious to marry a worthless fellow merely to be vexed once in her life ;
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 23
and then comes the startling information that the worthless fellow has become a most exemplary husband. Finally, one is a little surprised at the way the father casts off his son for helping the uncle ; but that is not a circumstance to the per- versity with which the father refuses to believe that his son really wants to help him in his trouble, even when the son stands ready to offer the best of proof of his sincerity. The father is merely mad with anger at nothing except that, as in the other cases, the plot requires him to be so or the play will stop. In MatMj the scheme of gulling is better worked out for the most part, though it is a little hard to explain the rela- tion of seven alternating appearances and exits of Randall on the one hand and of Captain Carvegut and Lieutenant Bottum on the other. At best these are a very clumsy stage device to explain a part of the play that is to follow. Otherwise the scenes work up well to the inevitable conclusion of such a play, — namely, the punishment of the wicked, the gulling of the father and old lover, and the marrying of the faithful girl and her young lover.
A slightly different phase of this tendency in Rowley to sacrifice consistency and unity of plot to effectiveness of situa- tion is shown in ALL. As was said earlier, there is no apparent reason for Malina's appearance in the first act except that her vulgar jests will please the pit. There is reason against it in that it is out of keeping with the character of a king who has won the implicit confidence of such a general as Julianus. The same criticism holds of her appearance with Lothario in the beginning of the second act. Such a vulgari- zation of the rape of Jacinta is not consistent with the attitude of Julianus toward his king, and there is no reason why Julianus should not know the character of the king. To the same kind of carelessness is due the loose binding together of the two parts of the plot. Whether or not they are taken directly from the original story is not in point here ; the fact is that the plot is made up of two quite different stories, with a purely mechanical unification. The three points of contact
24 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
between the story of Antonio and his two wives and the story of Julianus and his ravished daughter are as follows : the two men go to the same war ; both are present at the conference with a captain of the forces of a neighboring city at which Antonio, already married to a poor girl at home, falls in love with the captain's daughter ; at the end of the play, Antonio comes upon the stage to die as the result of a wound given him by Julianus because he had upbraided Julianus with the fall of their kingdom. Thus only at one point, and that a very slight one, does one story influence the other.
A brief consideration of BMC will show how Middleton has woven a main plot and sub-plot together. In the main plot, Fontinelle, a war-prisoner of Camillo, falls in love with Yioletta, the fiancee of Camillo, and marries her. In the sub-plot, Curvetto, an old courtier, and Lazarillo, an eccentric Spaniard, make love to Imperia, a courtesan, and her servant. Frisco is another servant of Imperia, and Hippolito is the brother of Violetta. Now Camillo and Hippolito try to use Imperia and Frisco to entrap Fontinelle, and so to cure Violetta of her love for him by showing his love for the courtesan. By this means Frisco is able to help Fontinelle to escape from prison and to marry Violetta. Then Lazarillo and Curvetto, who at first seem to serve only for the sport of the audience, bring about a situation where they call out the city guard just in time to prevent Camillo and Hippolito from forcibly entering Imperials house in search of Fontinelle and Violetta, whom they intend to murder. Similarly in P, each part of the sub-plot bears directly upon the main plot. There is evidently a plan underlying both these plays, however unwise and inartistic. The difference between the two drama- tists is indicated by the difference between ALL and BMC. The former is more mechanical in its putting together, but more plausible and clear on the stage; the latter is more carefully devised, but less clear on the stage. One was the result of stage experience and not much careful forethought ; the other, of forethought but not much stage experience.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 25
Middleton overcame his difficulty, as is shown in TOO ; there is no evidence that Rowley ever worked out a better plot than that in MatM, which at best is a poor imitation of the play by Middleton just named.
In his vigorous attitude toward life, Rowley is quite different from Middleton. For instance, Sue Shortheels and Mrs. Coote are both sent off to jail in MatM after they have served their purpose in gulling the more respectable persons, — a thing not heard of in Middleton, where they would have repented in their last few lines. In WNV, also, there is a more intense feeling toward the wrongdoers. At times, to be sure, it becomes little better than coarse vituperation, yet it represents a vigor of mind not found in Middleton's early work. This difference is shown by comparing the language used by Hoard and Lucre in their quarrel in TCO, I, 3, 3-16, with that used by Mrs. Foster and Old Foster in WNV, act I, p. 104. This same virility produces pathos in some instances, as in ALL, act II :
Jac. Remember what my father does for you,
He's gone to brandish gainst your enemies,
He's fetching your honour home ; while at home
You will dishonour him. Rod. My purpose 'twas,
To send him forth the better to achieve
My conquest here. Jac. Tyrannous, unkingly. Rod. Tush, I have no cares. Jac. He'll be revenged. Rod. Pity, nor future fears — Jac. Help, help, some good hand help ! Rod. There's none within thy call. Jac. Heaven hears. Rod. Tush, 'tis far off.
So far the scene is deeply pathetic ; but then Rowley drops to the conventional rime-tags for the end of the scene and consequently becomes bathetic :
Jac. See heaven, a wicked king, lust stains his crown, Or strike me dead, or throw a vengeance down.
26 EDGAR OOIT MORRIS.
-Bod Tush, heaven is deaf, and hell laughs at thy cry.
Jac. Be cursed in the act, and cursed die.
Rod. I'll stop the rest within thee. [Exit dragging her.
All this vigor of feeling, whether in the form of bombastic vituperation, or pathos, or bathos, is quite different from the more elaborately and carefully expressed feeling of Middleton's early work.
To summarize : The differences between Middleton and Rowley in the plays where they used the same kind of materials and sought the same results, are substantiated by a consideration of Rowley's tragedy. Rowley's verse is less regular, less rhythmical than Middleton's ; his treatment of vulgar themes is coarser and more salacious ; thin punning and noise are made to help out the comedy in place of genuine wit and humor ; the plots and characters show less thought, but are quite as plausible on the stage; finally, Rowley's greater vigor is shown in his more intense attitude toward life and the resulting pathos or rant as the case may be.
III.
The qualities of Massinger's dramatic style are so generally agreed upon that they can be illustrated from three typical plays with a few references to others. The three referred to are, The Duke of Milan, a tragedy, A New Way to Pay Old Debts, a comedy, and The Great Duke of Florence, a tragi- comedy. Reference will now and then be made to The City Madam, a tragi-comedy, and to The Maid of Honour,1 a tragi-comedy that ends rather seriously. Mr. A. W. Ward 2 and Mr. Robert Boyle 3 think there is a suggestion of Fletcher in NWD, but do not feel at all certain that he helped Massinger in writing the play. There has also been some doubt about
1 Hereafter these plays will be referred to respectively as DofM, NWD, GDI, CM, and MofH.
2 A History of English Dramatic Literature ; vol iii, p. 21.
3 Article on Philip Massinger ', in the Dictionary of National Biography.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 27
CM, but Mr. Ward l concludes that the play is all by Mas- singer. For present purposes, therefore, I shall assume that these plays are all by Massinger; they certainly are suffi- ciently alike to warrant that conclusion without a more careful investigation of all of Massinger's work than has yet been made.
The general characteristics of these plays may be stated as follows : the style is self-conscious, parenthetical, elaborate, Latinized, but for the most part accurate ; all of the plays show more or less of a romantic tendency ; the principal characters belong to the nobility, even in the comedy; the plots are carefully worked out, with a proper explanation of everything unusual ; there is a good general understanding of human nature without the power to phrase it, hence the stiffness of some situations and the elephantine humor ; there is clearly a didactic purpose, however unethical may be the means by which it is attained. "Wherein these characteristics are like those of Middleton (in the seven early plays) and those of Rowley, and wherein they are unlike, will be noticed as these qualities are developed.
Massinger's sentences are accurately constructed, but they are such as no mortal ever spoke off the stage. A single sentence from DofM will illustrate a constant practice with him ; act III, scene 3 :
Therefore, madam,
(Though I shall ever look on you as on
My life's preserver, and the miracle
Of human pity,) would you but vouchsafe,
In company, to do me those fair graces
And favours, which your innocence and honour
May safely warrant, it would to the duke,
I being to your best self alone known guilty,
Make me appear most innocent.
Such sentences are plainly the product of the study, and show a better Latin than English idiom. The verse is also accurate in number of syllables, but lacking in feeling for
1 A History of English Dramatic Literature ; vol. iii, p. 34.
28 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
rhythm. The most noticeable thing about the verse is the number of double endings, the prosaic quality, and the absence of incomplete verses. The verses quoted above show in a brief example how prosaic pretty regular verse can be, though in the next to the last verse the accents will not be placed so that any rhythm whatever can be felt. And yet, in spite of the lack of poetic feeling in some of the lines, most of them will read easily if the reader does not try to torture them into verse. They would make good rhythmical prose.
As in the case of Rowley, the consideration of Massinger's verse (he wrote practically no prose) in connection with Mid- dleton's will be omitted for the present to avoid repetition.
The romantic element occupies practically all the action in DofM, in MofH, and in GDF. In the other two plays it is less prominent ; yet the love episode of All worth and the daughter of Sir Giles Overreach is carried on in a thoroughly romantic manner, with a feared rival who turns out to be a helpful friend, with the proper deception of an objecting father, and with a mid night -elopement, all of which occupy a large part of our interest and of the denouement. Similarly in (7Jf, although the whole plot is made to center upon the marriage of the two daughters of the City Madam, and although the main moral lesson comes from the conquered pride of the mother, the main interest is in the methods by which the father and two lovers overcome that pride in the mother and daughters. So that, although these are not really romantic plays, they have a strong romantic tendency. Since Middleton introduced only a slight romantic element into his early plays but developed a stronger romantic tendency in his later work, and since Rowley showed rather more of a romantic tendency than did Middleton, this cannot be taken as a hard and fast mark of distinction between the three men ; but it is so much more prominent in Massinger, that it is safe to say that he was more inclined to use romantic material than Rowley, and Rowley more than Middleton.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 29
As is likely to happen in romance, the people in Massin- ger's plays are of excellent social standing. In three of these plays, kings, dukes, lords, and noble women occupy practi- cally all our attention. But even in the other two, we are not among the common people. NWD has its duke, noble lady and her son, an extortioner who is " Sir " Giles, and a prodigal carefully named Wellborn lest we mistake him for a common fellow. CM, intended to teach proper humility in the wife of a rich city merchant, very carefully knights the merchant, marries one of the daughters to the son of a lord, and marries the other to a landed gentleman of parts. This care to give each play a proper social standing (and most ot the other plays do not differ from these) is a distinct point of difference from Middleton and Rowley. In his early plays Middleton's interest was plainly with the common people. Rowley seems about equally divided in interest; but Mas- singer is almost entirely concerned with the nobility, or at the lowest, with people of gentle birth.
That Massinger worked out his plots with care is a fact generally accepted by critics. Indeed they are sometimes too elaborate: they smell of the midnight lamp. Such a romance as that in ODF is more like a military cam- paign between two brilliant generals, than like the perverse ways of romantic Cupid. Every important incident is care- fully thought out and logically provided for. What else could Sanazarro do, since his love for the duchess was only lukewarm, than fall in love with the peerless Lidia ! Then after he had found that Lidia loved another, and that the duchess had saved him from the angered duke, he very naturally discovered that he could love the duchess. There is no reason to doubt such fickleness in romance; moreover, Massinger has provided all the reasons and circumstances that make it possible; yet somehow the phrasing of the parts is not convincing. The actions are logical enough in their general trend, but the speeches are not phrased to suit the action. The details do not make plausible the general
30 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
outline Massinger has planned. So too of Bertoldo, in MofH. He could not well help loving the beautiful and pure Camiola ; but when she had refused him absolutely, and when he had been away from her for some months, and when he was persistently wooed by the superb Duchess of Sienna, what could he do but accept her love and her dukedom ! But here again, as in GDF, although the larger parts of the incidents are provided for, the individual speeches do not ring true. Massinger seems rather to have argued out what they should say than to have felt what people must have said. He could outline human action, but could not phrase it in detail.
Massinger's care in plot-construction is sometimes frustrated by lack of emphasis in the presentation of motives. For instance, the reader is hardly prepared, and much less the audience, for the malicious hatred of Francisco for Sforza in DofM. Not till the first few lines of the fifth act, though the revenge has been in progress since the middle of the second act, do we know the real motive for this specially honored favorite becoming the secret enemy of his patron. Then it is fully explained that Duke Sforza has ruined and cast off the sister of Francisco, and that Francisco is avenging his family honor. The fact was mentioned before, but so obscurely that no one would suspect its connection with Francisco's action. It looks, therefore, as though Massiuger had planned well enough, but had misjudged the effect of the speech which he so carefully inserted as the plot-causation.
It is probably because of such seeming confusion in method, but really inadequate phrasing, that one critic says, " He rewards his good people and punishes the bad with the most scrupulous care ; but the good or bad person at the end of the play is not always the good or bad person of the beginning.1 >; Of course, no one would expect him to be ; so I suppose the critic means that we are often surprised at the end of the play to learn who it is that has come out bad, and who has come
1 Massinger's Plays. Mermaid ed., vol. i, p. xviii.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 31
out good. This is without doubt true ; but the good and bad at the end were all arranged for in the plan, and a careful search will usually discover the reason for their change. The fault, then, — and it appears again in a still different form in his character-presentation, — is one of execution, not of plan.
In this carefulness of plot-construction, Massinger is fol- lowed at a little distance by Middleton, and at a much greater distance by Rowley. The difference between Massinger and Middleton is, that Massinger knew what constituted a good plot but could not phrase it, while Middleton lacked judg- ment as to what constituted a good plot. Rowley, on the other hand, seems not to have had much of a plan in mind, but to have trusted to his characters and his own instinct to work out the plot as necessity required.
It is doubtless because of Middleton's inability to make inevitable phrases that his characters fail in plausibility in a crisis. The more passionate they become, the longer and more declamatory their speeches. Thought does not answer thought, and feeling flash out into lasting phrase, even as vitally as they do in real life, not to mention what we expect in imagi- native work. For instance, when Sanazarro, in GDF, secures a private interview with Lidia with whom he is desperately in love, he turns away after eight lines of purely formal compliment, and speaks three long asides of five, thirteen, and eleven lines respectively balancing three long embarrassed speeches by her. Another good case is at the end of act II of DofMj where occurs the temptation of Marcelia by Francisco. As has already been said, it is logical in general outline but quite unnatural in detail. The speeches are about such as two disinterested persons might use if they were debating the opposite sides of the question ; but no shrewd man, seeking revenge, would try to seduce the devoted wife of his over- trustful patron with the words of Francisco, and no woman of Marcelia's character would reply with her words. He begins with general flattery, follows that speech with more specific compliment, then in his third speech makes a plain
32 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
statement of his love. It looks logical and natural ; but the words are impossible in the mouths of both people. Act II,
scene 1 :
Farewell, circumstance !
And since you are not pleased to understand me, But by a plain and usual form of speech ; All superstitious reverence laid by, I love you as a man, and, as a man, I would enjoy you. Why do you start, and fly me ? I am no monster, and you but a woman, A woman made to yield, and by example Told it is lawful : favours of this nature Are, in our age, no miracles in the greatest ; And therefore, lady —
After this astounding proposition, the woman, who has been so far pictured as passionately devoted to her husband, remains to argue the matter for five pages more with this man, and
answers :
Keep off! — O you Powers! — Libidinous beast ! and, add to that, unthankful ! A crime, which creatures wanting reason fly from. Are all the princely bounties, favours, honours, Which, with some prejudice to his own wisdom, Thy lord and raiser hath conferred upon thee, In three days' absence, buried ? Hath he made thee, A thing obscure, almost without a name, The envy of great fortunes ? Have I graced thee, Beyond thy rank, and entertained thee, as A friend, and not a servant ? and is this, This impudent attempt to taint mine honour, The fair return of both our ventured favours !
These speeches are entirely unnatural ; and yet one cannot but feel that the general situation was properly conceived. Mas- singer seems to understand the voluntary and involuntary motives of human action ; he seems to have a wide acquaint- ance with human life ; he understands the natural sequence of events ; but he is unable to conceive of the individual actu- ated by individualistic motives and to give plausible expres- sion to the resulting action. Naturalness of expression, the inevitable word for the particular situation, is rare in Mas-
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 33
singer. One cannot help feeling that the previously prepared outline of the plot was more keenly in his mind than the characters, and that attention to details of plan killed spon- taneity of speech. Besides trying to say what they feel, the characters are burdened with the plot.
The differences between Massinger, Middleton, and Rowley in character presentation, are : Rowley does not elaborate his speeches more than the immediate needs of the situation require. Middleton's comedy characters are realistic to quite as great an extent as Rowley's, but his serious characters are inclined to be stilted. Massinger's characters are persistently self-conscious and periphrastic. Though Massinger and Mid- dleton are somewhat alike in their presentation of serious charac- ters, there is greater plausibility of speech in Middleton's work.
Self-consciousness of expression goes through all of Mas- singer's plays, and naturally kills the humor. The cook, the steward, the foolish gallant, are all watching their words too closely to be really funny. They have no abandon, they cannot get away from the plot. Just as we think some genuine humor is coming, it is either turned to a moral purpose, as when Tapwell, in NWD, receives a merited beat- ing for his malicious abuse of Wellborn ; or it is made to promote the serious part of the play, as when Sylli, in MofH, becomes a sort of antic foil to Camiola, so that she is able to give the audience some necessary information without resorting to soliloquy. In comedy, then, more than in anything else, Massinger is incapable of the keen wit and delightful humor of Middleton, and the boisterous fun of Rowley.
That Massinger had a pretty definite moral to teach, he seldom leaves to chance to discover. For instance, of the ten plays in the Mermaid edition, eight announce the moral in so many words, as in Believe as You List :
May my story
Teach potentates humility, and instruct Proud monarchs, though they govern human things, A greater power does raise, or pull down, kings ! 3
34 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
And the teaching of the other two cannot be very deeply hidden, since The Virgin Martyr is usually taken as strong evidence that Massinger was a Roman Catholic ; and GDF, although it forgives all the wrongdoers in the last few lines,
does so with this caution :
Yet let not others
That are in trust and grace, as you have been, By the example of our lenity, Presume upon their sovereign's clemency.
The moral tag is missed only by a hair. In this attention to the moral teaching, Massinger is quite like Rowley, but unlike Middleton. Middleton carefully deals out repentance or punishment, — usually repentance, — to every erring one in the plays, but he does not try to make a sweeping application of the lessons to life. Rowley, like Massinger, gives prominence to the moral lesson, by making it the name of one play, and by tacking it to the end of the other two. The difference is that Massinger and Rowley are verbally didactic, while Mid- dleton is so pervasively.
IV.
All I have said heretofore about the verse of Middle- ton, of Rowley, and of Massinger, was based upon general impressions from reading their plays, and could be only illus- trated by examples, not proved. In order to verify these impressions, I have made a careful analysis of the verse in several plays. The figures given below are the result of that analysis.
One hundred lines of verse were taken from each of nine plays : Middleton 's BM C, MT, P, and A Game at Chess ; Rowley's MatM, WNV, and ALL; and Massinger's DofM, and NWD. In MatM, I have used all of the verse but about twenty or thirty lines, some of which are doubtful. In the other eight plays, I arbitrarily decided to take the first twenty lines of verse in each act.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 35
After marking the lines as it seemed to me they should be read, I made a note of the following facts: 1. Elision, except of -e- in -ed and such usual ones as I'll, I've, ejent etc. Under elision I have counted only the loss of a vowel that did not carry with it a consonant, and the loss of -e in the; as in char(i)ty, trul(y) intending, walk th(e) horses, etc. 2. Resolution of syllables ; this means the breaking of one syllable into two, sometimes because of a vocalic con- sonant, as em-bl-em, he-re, etc., where the verse needed an extra syllable. 3. Trochees ; these are marked on the basis of word or thought accent, excepting the possibilities under Schmidt's rule,1 and counting as regular iambic feet all those that are made up of two almost equally light accents, like stance of in " This Is th£ instance of my scorn'd disgrace," though there may be a shade more of emphasis on stance than on of. 4. AnapaBstic feet ; these are admitted to exist only where the rules for elision can not be applied, as in "And wakes thS dull Sye e'en 6f & Puritan." 5. Accent on light syllables, such as unemphatic conjunctions, prepositions, and the defi- nite and indefinite articles. 6. Double endings. 7, Regular verses, — admitting light accents, and a trochaic foot at the beginning of the verse or after the caBsural pause. 8. Regu- lar verses, — admitting light accents, and a double ending of not more than one syllable. 9. Incomplete verses. 10. Regular verses, — admitting light accents only. 11. Regular verses, — admitting light accents, trochees in the first foot or just after the csesural pause, and double endings of not more than one syllable.
In applying these rules, there were found some cases that could easily have been decided either of two ways. But as most of them did not involve important differences, and as they will about balance one another, they need not be especially considered. There are some other cases, however, that this classification could not cover. They are the almost hopeless
1 " Dissyllabic oxytonical adjectives and participles become paroxytonical before nouns accented on the first syllable." — Lexicon, p. 1413.
36 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
prose lines that occur now and then in both Massinger and Rowley. For instance, no statistics of irregularities of verse will indicate the rythmical value of such lines as Rowley's
" Virtue and valour, (those fair twins " or
" In which he casts his actions. Such a discreet temperance ; "
or of Massinger's
" To all you meet ; I am this day the state-drunkard."
It can be noted merely that they occur with about equal frequency in both Massinger and Rowley.
Before comparing the figures arrived at, a few facts about the plays should be recalled : BMC was printed in 1602, probably not more than four or five years after Middleton began writing. It is, therefore, pretty certain to be his work, not much if any changed by another hand. M 1 and P were printed in 1607, and the title pages say they were played by the Children of Paul's. They are, therefore, open to more suspicion, but were probably not revised by anyone, since they would not be likely to have two runs at the theatre before that date. A Game at Chess was played only nine days in August of 1624, and was then stopped by order of the Court. Middleton was prosecuted as the sole author, and the play was printed in 1625. This too, then, is not likely to have been retouched and shows us clearly Middleton's later style. Rowley's WNVwas printed in 1632; MatM, in 1633; and ALL, also in 1633. The first two of these have been suspected, and the last is not above suspicion ; but they were printed while Rowley was probably yet alive, and have the balance of probability in their favor. DofM was printed in 1623, and NWD in 1633. They are both typical of Mas- singer's style, although the latter has been slightly suspected of Fletcher's influence. It is safe to say, then, that these eight plays will give an approximate idea of Middleton's (early), of Rowley's, and of Massinger's verse style.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 37
TABULAR VIEW OF VERSE ANALYSIS.
|
a |
«5 |
S-g |
|||||||||
|
a |
"fl |
||||||||||
|
. |
1 |
§ |
45 s* |
||||||||
|
. |
I |
w s |
1 |
^, |
--Q |
||||||
|
§ |
1 |
1 |
S |
I |
"S |
3 § |
ft |
||||
|
a |
•42 |
1 |
1 |
3 |
3 |
B 0, |
"5, |
0. s |
ft |
oj |
|
|
a |
bb |
§ |
bb |
||||||||
|
3 |
3 |
H |
| |
^ |
& |
1 |
0 M |
S |
«S |
||
|
Middleton : — |
|||||||||||
|
BMC. |
7 |
i |
34 |
4 |
30 |
7 |
22 |
4 |
1 |
60 |
86 |
|
MT |
8 |
5 |
19 |
12 |
12 |
14 |
11 |
10 |
11 |
43 |
64 |
|
p |
8 |
6 |
32 |
12 |
17 |
22 |
15 |
14 |
8 |
44 |
69 |
|
GatC |
17 |
22 |
12 |
35 |
49 |
15 |
31 |
2 |
29 |
67 |
|
|
Rowley : — |
|||||||||||
|
MatM |
13 |
8 |
31 |
29 |
33 |
42 |
6 |
18 |
12 |
22 |
44 |
|
WNV. |
14 |
13 |
37 |
22 |
23 |
25 |
9 |
11 |
12 |
32 |
49 |
|
ALL |
17 |
4 |
44 |
28 |
21 |
30 |
16 |
11 |
3 |
33 |
57 |
|
Massinger : — |
|||||||||||
|
DofM.... |
16 |
22 |
6 |
40 |
53 |
12 |
40 |
34 |
79 |
||
|
NWD |
15 |
18 |
16 |
34 |
55 |
12 |
39 |
i |
25 |
73 |
|
In this table there are some rather remarkable differences. First, in the matter of exceptional verse structure : Three of Middleton's plays require the reader to resort to the resolution of a syllable, and contain 12 instances in all. None of Mas- singer's plays require resolution. On the other hand, Rowley's plays have 25 instances of resolution. The percentages of resolved feet are : Massinger, 0 per cent. ; l Middleton, 3 per cent. ; Rowley, 8 per cent.2 The anapsest also is unusual in blank verse. Of anapsestic feet, Middleton uses 4, 12, 12, and 12, respectively in his plays ; Massinger, 6, and 16 ; Rowley, 29, 22, and 28. If we average these, and consider only Middleton's early work, the percentages are : Middleton,
1 Strictly speaking, here, as elsewhere, this numeral is not a percentage but indicates the average number of instances in a hundred lines. 8 In most cases fractions are disregarded.
38 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
9 per cent.; Massinger, 11 per cent.; and Rowley, 26 per cent. The use of incomplete verses is more frequent in Rowley than in Middleton, and much more frequent in these two men than in Massinger. The percentages are: Rowley, 9 per cent.; Middleton, 5J per cent.; Massinger, J per cent. Although light accents are frequently resorted to by all poets, they are an irregularity that weakens the verse. In the use of these, Massinger is more frequent than Rowley, and Rowley than Middleton. The percentages are : Massinger, 37 per cent.; Rowley, 26 per cent.; and Middleton, 23 per cent. Finally the use of trochaic feet out of the usual positions, that is, other than at the beginning of a verse or after the caesura,1 is more marked in Rowley than in Massinger or in Middleton. Massinger uses 40 trochees in 200 lines. Of these, 4 are improperly used, making 2 per cent, out of the usual places. Middleton uses 107 trochees in 400 lines. Of these, 10 are improperly used, making an average of 2J per cent, out of the usual places. Rowley uses 112 trochees in 300 lines. Of these, 35 are improperly used, making an average of 12 per cent, out of the usual places. It should also be noticed that Rowley uses a larger number of trochees than either Mas- singer or Middleton. The percentages of trochees used, are : Rowley, 37 per cent.; Middleton, 26 per cent.; and Massinger, 20 per cent.
Second, in the matter of regularity : Since double endings do not interrupt the rhythm, but only change it, and since they were a regularly admitted form of blank verse, I class them here. This table shows that although Middleton used a good many double endings in his later verse, he used less in his early verse than did Rowley, and Rowley used less than Massinger. The percentages are : Middleton (early), 14 per cent.; Rowley, 32 per cent.; and Massinger, 54 per cent.
1 In order that I may have a standard by which to determine varying usage, I have assumed that a trochaic foot at the beginning of an iambic verse or after the caesura is usual, without desiring to raise the question of verse forms.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 39
Even counting in the late play, Middleton's average is only 23 per cent. If, however, we compare the number of double endings of more than one extra syllable, we get a somewhat different result. Rowley uses 7 per cent., Middleton 3 per cent., and Massinger J per cent. ; this shows that Rowley is by far the most careless in their use. In the matter of perfectly regular blank verse, Middleton seems to have fallen off from his early period to his later. If trochees or double endings are not admitted, the regular verses in the nine plays respectively are as follows : Middleton, 60, 43, 44, and 29 ; Rowley, 22, 32, and 33 ; Massinger, 34 and 25. Thus Massinger and Rowley average the same, 29 per cent., but are both much below Middleton, whose average is 44 per cent. If, however, trochaic feet in the usual positions and double endings be admitted, the relative positions change somewhat, Massinger surpassing Middleton in regularity. Then the regular verses in the nine plays respectively are as follows : Middleton, 86, 64, 69, and 67 ; Rowley, 44, 49, and 57 ; Massinger, 79 and 73. Or averaging these, the percentages become : Massinger 76 per cent., Middleton 71 per cent, (early, 73 per cent.), Rowley 50 per cent. The influence of double endings on Massinger's verse will be clearly seen if we compare these percentages just obtained with the percentages of regular verses plus light accents and trochees in the usual positions. Of these verses, the percentages are : Middletou 60 per cent, (early, 65 per cent.), Massinger 42 per cent., and Rowley 39 per cent.
In brief, then, Massinger's verse is a little more regular than Middleton's, and Middleton's a good deal more regular than Rowley's, if we allow both trochees and double endings. But if we allow only trochees in the usual places and light accents, Middleton is much more regular than Massinger, who drops down nearer to Rowley. A large number of double endings indicates Massinger's work rather than Rowley's, and Rowley's rather than Middleton's early work ; but the use of more than one extra syllable indicates Rowley rather than
40 EDGAR C01T MORRIS.
Middleton, and Middleton than Massinger. The use of resolved syllables, of anapaests, and of trochees out of the usual places, indicates Rowley rather than either Middleton or Massinger. The use of incomplete verses indicates Rowley or Middleton rather than Massinger; and the use of light accents indicates Massinger or Rowley rather than Middleton. In all this consideration, it is of course admitted that figures do not determine poetry; but a careful reading will show that the passages used are typical, and that the general impression is like the conclusions arrived at in these tables. It will therefore be safe to apply these verse tests in connection with the other characteristics already ascertained in determin- ing the parts of The Old Law written by Middleton, by Rowley, and by Massinger.
V.
The title page of the oldest known quarto of The Old Law reads as follows : " The Excellent Comedy, called The Old Law, or A new way to please you.
/ Phil. Massinger. by<| Tho. Middleton. I William Rowley.
Acted before the King and Queene at Salisbury House, and at severall other places, with great Applause. Together with an exact and perfect Catalogue of all the Plays, with the Authors Names, and what are Comedies, Tragedies, Histories, Pastoralls, Masks, Interludes, more exactly Printed than ever before. London, Printed for Edward Archer, at the signe of the Adam and Eve, in Little Britaine. 1656."
The significance of these statements must not be overesti- mated. The fact that this play is attributed to Massinger, Middleton, and Rowley, merely establishes a presumption that each man had some part in its composition. That Massinger had the greater share since his name comes first, does not follow. He may have been the last reviser, or the most
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 41
popular, or the most influential, or the printer may have arranged the names alphabetically. Moreover, excepting the fact that the play was "Acted before the King and Queene at Salisbury House," the title page gives us no information on three important questions, namely : the part each man had in the composition of the play ; the manner of its composition ; and the date of its composition. Since the answer to the first of these questions will materially aid in answering the other two, attention will first be given to the probable part each man had in the composition of The Old Law.
The following distribution of passages may seem dogmatic because incapable of exact proof. It certainly is a delicate matter to assert that the work of one man ends at a given line, and that the work of another follows, with no other evidence than the general dramatic characteristics of the two men to support the assertion. On the other hand, the difference between certain lines and certain others is indis- putable. Somewhere between them the work of one of the men must end and that of the other begin. The assignment of passages that follows pretends only to indicate this probable point of division. For the sake of defmiteness of statement, however, I have found it necessary to mark the places of division precisely, although I realize that the evidence supports only my general conclusions as to the distribution of parts in the play. As a still further recognition of the difficulty of too close distinctions in style and method, I have recognized two classes of passages : one, in which for several consecutive lines there is clear evidence of only one hand ; the other, in which the work of one man is so closely interwoven with the work of another that any attempt to separate the lines would be impracticable if not impossible.
The first act of The Old Law shows the work of Middleton and Rowley divided as follows: Middleton, lines 106-110, 126-159, 260-274, 312-349, and 395-442; Rowley, lines 1-105, 111-125, 160-259, and 350-394; Middleton and Rowley, lines 275-311 and 442-488.
42
EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
In these mixed passages Rowley's hand is felt in the more rapid dialogue, in the rough, prosaic lines, and especially in the rougher lines between more rhythmical ones where they could be omitted without affecting the sense. Lines 275-280 show such an interpolation :
Sim. The day goes away, sir.
Oreon. Why, wouldst thou have me gone, Simonides?
Sim. O my heart ! Would you have me gone before you, sir,
You give me such a deadly wound ?
Clean. Fine rascal ! [Aside.
Sim. Blemish my duty so with such a question ?
Sir, I would haste me to the duke for mercy : etc.
The second speech of Simonides and the aside of Cleanthes are not in the same style as the lines before and after, and give no added information. Omittedf they leave a passage quite in Middleton's style ; as they stand, the passage does not feel homogeneous. In lines 293-297 there is a similar passage. Besides the difference of style and taste, there is a curious confusion of pronouns in the quarto reading that might well have arisen from an interpolation. The quarto
reads,
Sir, we have canvassed it from top to toe, Turn'd it upside down ; threw her on her side, Nay, open'd and dissected all her entrails, Yet can find none ; there's nothing to be hop'd But the duke's mercy.
Although the antecedent of the pronoun is somewhat remote, it is plainly law. If the writer of these lines had had a con- sistent figure in his mind when he wrote, he could hardly have referred to law with it in two cases and with her in the following three, all in three lines. Nor would a printer be any more likely to make such an error. If, now, the line and a half containing the feminine pronouns and the coarse Rowleyesque figure be removed, the improved verse and the finer taste are like Middleton's. Restored, it reads,
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 43
Sir, we have canvass' d it from top to toe, Turn'd it upside down ; yet can find none : There's nothing to be hoped but the duke's mercy.
Such retouching as Rowley probably did in these two passages, notwithstanding their rougher verse and coarser taste, gives more vigor to the lines, and is what we should expect from a comedy actor who was attempting to liven up an old play. Because of similar combinations of the verse of both men, lines 442-488 are also put into this group of mixed verses.
Of the lines assigned to Middleton, lines 106-110 are a unique case. Excepting the law itself, they are the only prose in this act. This fact alone would not assign them to Middleton, though it would be good evidence ; but the addi- tional fact that this speech is a non-sequitur, makes it very suspicious. The apparent reason for its presence is that it brings us back to the main question from which the preceding speeches have taken us. Notice that there is nothing in the preceding speeches to account for the why and you of this speech, as there must have been when the speech was first written. Lines 90-110 will show the lack of sequence :
Clean. They shall be now, sir,
And shall have large fees if they'll undertake
To help a good cause, for it wants assistance ;
Bad ones, I know, they can insist upon. First Law. O sir, we must undertake of both parts;
But the good we have most good in. Clean. 1'ray you, say,
How do you allow of this strange edict ? First Law. Secundum justitiam ; by my faith, sir,
The happiest edict that ever was in Epire. Clean. What, to kill innocents, sir ? It cannot be,
It is no rule in justice there to punish. First Law. O sir,
You understand a conscience, but not law. Clean. Why, sir, is there so main a difference ?
First Law. You'll never be good lawyer if you understand not that. Clean. I think, then, 'tis the best to be a bad one.
44 EDGAR OOIT MORRIS.
First Law. Why, sir, the very letter and the sense both do overthrow you in this statute, which speaks, that every man living to four score years, and women to three score, shall then be cut off, as fruitless to the republic, and law shall finish what nature lingered at.
This last speech implies that they have been discussing the possibility of finding a defect in the law so that its execution can be avoided ; but the preceding nine speeches touch on no such topic. They concern the relation of lawyers to good and bad cases, the justice of this law, and the difference between conscience and law. Plainly Rowley has here cut out some of Middleton's work and inserted some of his own, without taking pains to make it fit perfectly. The next Middleton passage, lines 126-159, is so assigned merely because the law must have been a part of the old play, and there is no evidence later that the general form of the play has been changed. The last three Middleton passages are so assigned because of their uniformly better rhythm, the absence of double endings, and the longer, more formal, more serious speeches. The difference in style and verse is easily seen in four consecutive speeches, lines 383-404 :
Leon. I'll tell thee one;
She counsels me to fly my severe country ;
Turn all into treasure, and there build up
My decaying fortunes in a safer soil,
Where Epire's law cannot claim me. Clean. And, sir,
I apprehend it as a safest course,
And may be easily accomplished ;
Let us be all most expeditious.
untry where we breathe will be our own,
Or better soil ; heaven is the roof of all ; 393 And now, as Epire's statute by this law,
There is 'twixt us and heaven a dark eclipse.
0 then avoid it, sir; these sad events Follow those black predictions.
Leon. I prithee, peace;
1 do allow thy love, Hippolita,
But must not follow it as counsel, child ;
Till'. I».\TK AND COMPOSITION OF Till'. Ol.l» LAW. -|/>
I nui-.i n..( rimmo IMV ronnlry f.a ih«- l.i« riiiNiHHtntn horo Imth l.ro,l m«i, hrot.Khl mo up.
And Khali I mm i,iu •> In her?
I'm iii my ;.«-,«,.ii,l iultin.-y, tuut i-hil.lmt
No',-. :,l,-,,, ..„, -.u.Hh in lll.-ii III . I :.O'N «Trt.llo
As in their mothor'ii.
Quory : iloos (ho l.roak in oonst motion in lii-..-;- ;i'j;; ".'.'I s!i,.\\
that Rowley tried to patch his lines to Middletoa'i at that plaoe? The break ia quality of vowo is near there, plainly enough.
All (ho other |>:ISS:U>VM in thisarl Mssi;-,n,,l I,, U\.\\ 1,-v can
be olasaed with linen 90-105 m..! s :-394 previously quoted,
siiuv (hoy li:iv«» (lio snino marks of slvlo nn.l V.MS,-. riu-v oonlnin short, :il»ni|»( spooolios that snorilioo rliydnn to tlniumtio otloot. Tlio voi-so lialls i-v«-ry now niulthon tor a misplarotl (rooliiM-, or for an iinapsosf. or fora ivsolvo«l syllal»l«>. That (his rons-h verse l..-l,.n;-s to liowloy ami not to Mnssin^or, can
be seen by comparing lines 160-175, for instance, \vith a passage in WNV, act III, (page 151) which shows the same
(rioks,.r K..u lev's stylo. The Old Law, I, 1, h',0 IV..:
A fint tdloi, and very flitrly gildtd !
in there BO teruplt in all thtM wordi To demur the Uw upon oooaiion T Fox ! 'tli an unneetfwary inquiiition ; Prithee, tet him not about It, Xicm. Troth, none, ulr ;
It ii to evident and plnln a eaue,
Tlinr in no MUV«IIII- f.u- Iho ilrfrititnul. PiHwil.lr ! nut nolliiiiK hrlp in u K..,.,l rnno ? /•'ir«/ /.,!«-. l-'nilli, hir, I .In think llinl thorn inny l.o n holo,
wiiinh would protraet— delay, if not remedy, ( /r,,M. Why, there's tome comfort in that \ good sir, upeak it,
l'\i-«t /..MI-. Nsiv. von inn I |.!ii. l,>n inr lor (lint, mi.
.VM». !'»< hoe, do not;
It limy ii|>« it w. mill I l<> ninny r,.mr, nu.l lionn, That limy .lio ult.-r it.
A Woman Never FeowJ, aot 1 1 1
8t«ph. 0 nephew, are you otmte I the weleom'at « . • i,
I'll.ll IIIV Ill-Ill ( llMM , (III:. IM IIIV I,U|-.I,, :
46 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
Wife. Let him be largely texted in your love,
That all the city may read it fairly ;
You cannot remember me, and him forget ;
We were alike to you in poverty. Steph. I should have begged that bounty of your love,
Though you had scanted me to have given't him ;
For we are one ; I an uncle-nephew,
He a nephew-uncle. But, my sweet self,
My slow request you have anticipated
With preferred kindness ; and I thank you for it.
But how, kind cousin, does your father use you ?
Is your name found again within his books ?
Can he read son there ? Rob. 'Tis now blotted quite :
For the violent instigation
Of my cruel stepmother, his vows and oaths
Are stamped against me, ne'er to acknowledge me,
Never to call or bless me as his child ;
But in his brow, his bounty and behaviour
I read it all most plainly.
A comparison of these passages with a passage from Massin- ger's Do/M, act IV, scene 3 (page 74), will make apparent the reason for assigning the first to Rowley :
Sforza. There's comfort yet : I'll ply her
Each hour with more ambassadors of more honours,
Titles, and eminence ; my second self,
Francisco, shall solicit her. Steph. That a wise man,
And what is more, a prince that may command,
Should sue thus poorly, and treat with his wife,
As she were a victorious enemy,
At whose proud feet himself, his state, and country,
Basely begged mercy ! Sforza. What is that you mutter ?
I'll have thy thoughts. Steph. You shall. You are too fond,
And feed a pride that's swollen too big already,
And surfeits with observance.
The verse of the two former passages is alike, and is rougher than that of the latter. Still further, there is nothing in the former passages like the first speech by Stephen for compli-
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 47
cated sentence structure. Finally, as still further corroboration of Rowley's band in the act, there are a few touches of pathos, like the last line in lines 299-303 :
Then to his hopeless mercy last I go ; I have so many precedents before me, I must call it hopeless : Antigona, See me deliver'd up unto my deathsman, And then we'll part ;— five years hence I'll look for thee.
Unlike the first act, the first scene of the second act shows Rowley's revision affecting nearly all of the scene. The passages are assigned : Rowley, lines 1-78, 100-171 ; Mid- dleton, lines 78-99, 172-211; Rowley and Middleton, lines 211-272. Thus there remain only about sixty lines and a few scattered speeches that are unmistakably by Middleton. The difference between the two kinds of writing in this scene is well shown by lines 72-85 :
Sim. Push ! I'm not for you yet,
Your company's too costly ; after the old man's Dispatch'd, I shall have time to talk with you ; I shall come into the fashion, ye shall see too, After a day or two ; in the mean time, I am not for your company.
Evan. Old Creon, you have been expected long ; Sure you're above four score.
Sim. Upon my life,
Not four-and-twenty hours, my lord ; I search'd The church-book yesterday. Does your grace think I'd let my father wrong the law, my lord ? 'Twere pity a' my life then ! no, your act Shall not receive a minute's wrong by him, While I live, sir; and he's so just himself too, I know he would not offer't : — here he stands.
These two speeches by the same character could hardly have been written by the same person at the same time. The former speech can be read as verse only with the greatest care ; the latter has a distinct rhythm. In the former, the word and thought accents do not correspond to the verse accents ; in the latter, they all agree.
48 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
It is hardly worth while, even if it were possible, to try to separate Rowley's work from Middleton's in lines 211-272. That the basis of this passage was by Middleton can hardly be doubted since the general thought is necessary to the latter part of the play. The fact also that the quarto prints four passages, lines 211-213, 217-220, 224-227, and 260-263, as prose seems to show a confusion in the manuscript, which would be more likely to occur in case of revision than in case of rewriting. A good instance of what seems to be by Middleton, because of the self-restraint and the excellence of the puns, is found in lines 229-241 :
Sim. There's least need of thee, fellow ; I shall ne'er drink at home, I
shall be so drunk abroad.
But. But a cup of small beer will do well next morning, sir. Sim. I grant you ; but what need I keep so big a knave for a cup of small
beer? Cook. Butler, you have your answer. Marry, sir, a cook I know your
mastership cannot be without. Sim. The more ass art thou to think so ; for what should I do with a
mountebank, no drink in my house ? — the banishing the butler
might have been a warning to thee, unless thou meanest to
choke me. Cook. In the meantime you have choked me, methinks.
This is too apt and calm for Rowley. On the other hand, his coarse jest and noise seem apparent in lines 256-264 :
Sim. And when my bets are all come in, and store,
Then, coachman, you can hurry me to my whore.
Coach. I'll firk 'em into foam else.
Sim. Speaks brave matter :
And I'll firk some too, or't shall cost hot water.
[Exeunt Simonides, Coachman, and Footman.
Cook. Why, here's an age to make a cook a ruffian,
And scald the devil indeed ! do strange mad things,
Make mutton-pasties of dog's flesh,
Bake snakes for lamprey-pies, and cats for conies.
The passages assigned entirely to Rowley, lines 1-78 and 100—171, are of the same general character as are those assigned to him in the first act. They are well represented by lines
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OP THE OLD LAW. 49
72-78 quoted above, and by lines 100-110, which show a slightly different vein :
Ant. His very household laws prescribed at home by him
Are able to conform seven Christian kingdoms,
They are so wise and virtuous. Sim. Mother, I say — Ant. I know your laws extend not to desert, sir,
But to unnecessary years ; and, my lord,
His are not such ; though they show white, they're worthy,
Judicious, able, and religious.
Sim. I'll help you to a courtier of nineteen, mother. Ant. Away, unnatural ! •Sim. Then I'm no fool, I'm sure,
For to be natural at such a time
Were a fool's part indeed.
These are too rapid, irregular, and vulgar for Massinger or Middleton.
In the second scene of the second act, Rowley continues the same process of revision. To him belong lines 1—74 and 121-137; to Middleton, lines 75-111 ; to Rowley and Mid- dleton, lines 111-121 and 137-204.
The two Rowley passages, besides bearing the stamp of his rough verse, coarse humor, and rapid dialogue, are suspicious because they introduce a superfluous character, and show Eugenia in a meaningless double attitude. In line 10, she plainly refers to herself as being nineteen, and the rest of the play supports this statement, except that in these lines and in lines 121-137 she apparently has a daughter old enough to " make spoon meat " for her father and to " warm three night- caps for him." It may be explained that this girl is a daughter of the former wife. If so, it is curious that she is not utilized anywhere else to defend her father, and to arouse our sympa- thies with the losing side. Why is she not brought into the second scene of the third act, where her presence would make still more pitiful the foolish trials of Lysander ? or why not in act five to plead for her father's life? Instead she appears only in these two passages, and serves merely as an 4
50 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
excuse ; for Eugenia to make two speeches, in themselves thoroughly Rowleyesque in coarseness, and quite inconsistent with other speeches in the same act. Compare :
Would not this vex a beauty of nineteen now ? Alas ! I should be tumbling in cold baths now, Under each armpit a fine bean-flower bag, To screw out whiteness when I list — And some seven of the properest men i' the dukedom Making a banquet ready i' the next room for me ; Where he that gets the first kiss is envied, And stands upon his guard a fortnight after. This is a life for nineteen ! 'tis but justice : For old men, whose great acts stand in their minds, And nothing in their bodies, do ne'er think A woman young enough for their desire ; And we young wenches, that have mother-wits, And love to marry muck first, and man after, Do never think old men are old enough, That we may soon be rid on 'em ; there's our quittance. I've waited for the happy hour this two year, And, if death be so unkind to let him live still, All that time I have lost. 11. 10-28.
with,
Excuse me, gentlemen ; 'twere as much impudence In me to give you a kind answer yet, As madness to produce a churlish one. I could say now, come a month hence, sweet gentlemen, Or two, or three, or when you will, indeed ; But I say no such thing : I set no time, Nor is it mannerly to deny any. I'll carry an even hand to all the world : Let other women make what haste they will, What's that to me ? but I profess unfeignedly, I'll have my husband dead before I marry ; Ne'er look for other answer at my hands, gentlemen. 11. 99-110.
and with,
Gentlemen,
You know my mind ; I bar you not my house ; But if you choose out hours more seasonably, You may have entertainment. 11. 116-119.
This last is rather tame after the dashing effect of the first speech, and there is no apparent reason for the change.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 51
Moreover, directly after this last mild speech, the daughter re-enters and gives occasion for other coarse comparisons between young and old husbands. It is probable, therefore, that these speeches are interpolated by Rowley.
Lines 75-111 are given to Middleton on the usual evidence of rhythm, which is corroborated by a phrase that would hardly have occurred to Rowley. Lines 85-93 utter a curse upon the young men who are courting Eugenia before Lysander is dead ; they are followed by an apology for the rant into which the speaker has fallen :
I am too uncharitable,
Too foul ; I must go cleanse myself with prayers.
Rowley would have left the curse ringing in our ears, and then have allowed Lysander to repent in private if the plot needed it, as it does not here. This touch is thoroughly like Middleton, showing his finer taste.
The mixed passages are assigned on the same grounds as the former ones. Detailed division would be as difficult as it would be needless.
In the first scene of the third act, there is found the unmis- takably keen wit and the shrewd, unmoral, but genuine humor of Middleton. Massinger could not give to his humor the quick, natural turn here found, nor did he know such people as Gnotho, the Clerk, and the house servants of Simonides. Had Rowley written this or even revised it, there would have been some rough verses interspersed, and more thin punning and vulgarity. Only Middleton could write those shrewd suggestions by which Gnotho leads up to the change of the date in the parish register ; he alone was capable of the perfect ethical abandon of the humor in lines 321-341 :
Gno. You have but a month to live by the law. Aga. Out, alas ! Gno. Nay, scarce so much.
Aga. O, O, O, my heart ! [Swoons.
Gno. Ay, so ! if thou wouldst go away quietly, 'twere sweetly done, and like a kind wife ; lie but a little longer, and the bell shall toll for thee.
52 EDGAR COIT MOBRIS.
Aga. O my heart, but a month to live !
Gno. Alas, why wouldst thou come back again for a month ? —
I'll throw her down again — O, woman, 'tis not three weeks ; I
think a fortnight is the most.
Aga. Nay, then I am gone already ! [Swoons.
Gno. I would make haste to the sexton now, but Fm afraid the tolling of
the bell will wake her again. If she be so wise as to go now —
she stirs again ; there's two lives of the nine gone. Aga. O, wouldst thou not help to recover me, husband? Gno. Alas, I could not find it in my heart to hold thee by the nose, or
box thy cheeks ; it goes against my conscience.
Despicable as Gnotho really is from a purely moral viewpoint, his humor is irresistible. Like that of Tangle and of Falso in P, it is almost Shakespearean.
The second scene of the third act is in a very confusing condition. One long passage and two shorter ones are pretty clearly by Rowley, lines 56-196, 258-268, and 309-318. One passage, lines 1—55, shows the characteristics of Rowley and Middleton both. Two other passages, lines 197-257 and 269-308, show characteristics of Massinger and Middleton.
The Rowley passages, lines 56-196, 258-268, and 309-318, are distinctly marked with his rough verse, rapid conversation, coarse jests, and noisy humor. These qualities are especially noticeable in lines 138-196, where Lysander bests the three young courtiers in dancing, fencing, and drinking. Lines 56-138 are practically in the same spirit, and in fact are mostly a preparation for the contests, so there is little doubt that Rowley wrote all these lines. The other two shorter passages are not only quite unlike Middleton or Mas- singer, but they could easily be omitted. Their only value lies in their coarse humor. For instance, lines 256—268 read :
[Exit Lysander.
Clean. I see't has done him good ; blessing go with it, Such as may make him pure again.
He-enter Eugenia.
Eugen. 'Twas bravely touch'd, i' faith, sir. Clean. O, you 're welcome. Eugen. Exceedingly well handled.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 53
Clean. Tis to you I come ; he fell but i' my way.
Eugen. You mark'd his beard, cousin ?
Clean. Mark me.
Eugen. Did you ever see a hair so changed ?
Clean. I must be forc'd to wake her loudly too,
The devil has rock'd her so fast asleep. —
Strumpet !
Eugen. Do you call, sir ? Clean. Whore! Eugen. How do you, sir ? Clean. Be I never sc well,
I must be sick of thee ; thou 'rt a disease
That stick'st to th' heart, — as all such women are.
By omitting all from " Re-enter Eugenia " to her last speech, we*leave the sense and verse complete, and have thrown out some bad verse and coarseness. Considering the fact, also, that Eugenia is away during all of Cleanthes's lecture to Lysander except the first six lines, we obviate the necessity of explaining Eugenia's words, " Excellently well handled." How did she know ? She was off the stage.
The passage given to Rowley and Middleton together, lines 1-55, is so assigned because, although it contains some instances of Rowley's rough verse and fun, it also shows in places a refinement of humor quite away from Rowley's bent, if not out of his power. The first hundred lines or so are probably as planned by Middleton, and remind us at once of Maria's and Sir Toby's trick on Malvolio, in Twelfth Night. The situations are surprisingly similar : the people that are the cause of the action stand one side and laugh at Lysander's foolish antics, then later join the scene themselves. The difference is that the introduction is more expanded in The Old Law, the people that caused the action did not plan it, and the antics of Lysander are much coarser than those of Malvolio. It is difficult to pick out Middleton's lines here, unless 37-43 are his :
I'm sure his head and beard, as he has order* d it, Look not past fifty now : he'll bring 't to forty Within these four days, for nine times an hour at least
54 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
He takes a black-lead comb, and kembs it over : Three-quarters of his beard is under fifty ; There's but a little tuft of fourscore left, All of one side, which will be black by Monday.
This has a better quality of verse and of humor than the rest, and is too much restrained in mirth for Rowley ; but the double endings are suspicious. Probably, therefore, the whole passage has been so thoroughly revised by Rowley that Mid- dleton's influence in the first part of the scene is felt in the general trend of it rather than in passages of any length.
The most difficult parts of this scene to account for are lines 197-257 and 269-308. The difficulties in assigning these are numerous. In regularity of verse, in length and didactic quality of the speeches, they might be by either Mid- dleton or Massinger, but not by Rowley. In frequency of double endings, 32 in 60 lines in the first passage and 18 in 40 lines in the next passage, they suggest Massinger rather than Rowley or Middleton. In directness of statement, that is in the absence of complicated sentences and periphrastic phrases, they suggest Middleton rather than Massinger. The natural conclusion is, therefore, that the originally simple sentence structure of Middleton has been retained by Massinger in his revision, which nevertheless has changed the form of many lines. Just how great that change was in all cases it is impossible to state ; but in lines 269-292 it seems easiest to separate the work of the two men. Of these, lines 275-282 contain practically all the double endings, they needlessly detail what is told in general either before or after, and can be omitted without affecting the rest of the passage, by reading " How he " in place of " So he " in line 283. I quote lines 270-288, enclosing the Massinger lines in marks of parenthesis, to show the difference :
What a dead modesty is i' this woman, Will never blush again ! Look on thy work But with a Christian eye, 'twould turn thy heart Into a shower of blood, to be the cause
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 55
Of that old man's destruction ; think upon *t, (Ruin eternally ; for, through thy loose follies, Heaven has found him a faint servant lately ! His goodness has gone backward, and engender' d With his old sins again ; has lost his prayers, And all the tears that were companions with 'em : And like a blindfold man, giddy and blinded, Thinking he goes right on still, swerves but one foot, And turns to the same place where he set out ; So) How he, that took his farewell of the world, And cast the joys behind him, out of sight, Summ'd up his hours, made even with time and men, Is now in heart arriv'd at youth again, All by thy wildness : thy too hasty lust Has driven him to this strong apostacy.
Otherwise, the only certain feeling is that both Middleton and Massinger were concerned in these speeches.
The first scene of the fourth act is easy to assign. Like all the humor of low characters, it is quite out of Massin- ger's power, and possible only to Middleton and Rowley. In lines 1-45 the naturalness and self-control and good-natured satire are almost certainly Middleton's. From about line 45 to line 90 there linger a few of Middleton's touches, as in lines 55-62 :
Quo. No dancing with me, we have Siren here. Cook. Siren ! 'twas Hiren, the fair Greek, man. Gno. Five drachmas of that. I say Siren, the fair Greek, and so are all
fair Greeks.
Cook. A match ! five drachmas her name was Hiren. Gno. Siren's name was Siren, for five drachmas.
The nice point in Gnotho's last speech is quite in Middleton's finer vein. The excessive punning, however, that follows, like that in lines 66-75, is much more like Rowley :
Cook. That Nell was Helen of Greece too.
Gno. As long as she tarried with her husband, she was Ellen ; but after
she came to Troy, she was Nell of Troy, or Bonny Nell, whether
you will or no. Tail. Why, did she grow shorter when she came to Troy ?
56 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
Gno. She grew longer, if you mark the story. When she grew to be an ell, she was deeper than any yard of Troy could reach, by a quarter; there was Cressid was Troy weight, and Nell was avoirdupois ; she held more, by four ounces, than Cressida.
"This miserable trash, which is quite silly enough to be original/' is thoroughly in the vein of Rowley ; but I cannot agree with Gifford when he continues, it " has the merit of being copied from Shakespeare." There are two very different qualities of humor here within a few lines of each other. This latter passage is the same kind of humor as that in ALL, quoted on page 21. From line 90 to the end of the scene Middleton practically disappears, leaving only the burlesque, the coarse jest, and the vulgar allusion of Rowley. It is possible that a few exceptions should be made, as in lines 113, 129, and 157 :
Onotho to Agatha. I'll not leave her [the courtesan] : art not ashamed to be seen in a tavern, and hast scarce a fortnight to live?
Barest thou call my wife [the courtesan whom Gnotho plans to marry as soon as Agatha is dead], a strumpet, thou preter-pluperfect tense of a woman !
Go, go thy ways, thou old almanac at the twenty-eighth day of December, e'en almost out of date !
These all have the shrewd satirical wit of Middleton, that goes clear up to the vulgar line but does not pass unless necessary. A few such phrases seem to have been retained by Rowley.
The second scene of the fourth act shows Massinger's characteristics of verse, construction, and phrasing almost throughout. The main exception is in the last thirty lines. These last lines, 254-284, are like several other humorous passages that could easily be omitted. The scene ends harmo- niously at line 270, if we omit lines 254-266, which add nothing but some coarse jests on Simonides* cowardice. The lines following line 270 merely continue this theme with the addi-
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 57
tional fact that Simonides has cut his finger on his own sword. It is thus just about the sort of thiug a comedian might add to a play he was trying to liven up.
The rest of the scene bears many traces of Massinger. First, the short speeches are almost invariably so arranged that there are no incomplete lines. For example, lines 56-65 (Bullen erroneously numbers them as nine lines) :
Leon. What was ;t disturbed my joy ?
Clean. Did you not hear,
As afar off?
Loon. What, my excellent comfort ?
Clean. Nor you ?
Hip. I heard a — [-4 horn.
Clean. Hark, again !
Leon. Bless my joy,
What ails it on a sudden ?
Clean. Now ? since lately ?
Leon. 'Tis nothing but a symptom of thy care, man. Clean. Alas, you do not hear well ! Leon. What was 't, daughter ?
Next, there is an unusual number of double endings. In the first speech of 24 lines there are 11 ; in the 100 lines from 101 to 200, for example, there are 51 double endings. These typical passages compared with earlier passages assigned to Middleton will show the difference. In act I, scene 1, lines 397-437, there are 13 double endings; in act II, scene 1, lines 78-98, there are 7 double endings; in lines 170-210 of the same scene, there are 11 double endings. Thus in 100 lines by Middleton there are only 31 double endings as com- pared with 51 in 100 lines here assigned to Massinger. This agrees with the statistics given earlier. Still further, there are three or four sentences with Massinger's peculiarly com- plicated sentence structure. For example, lines 5-14, and 104-113:
For in these woods lies hid all my life's treasure, Which is too much never to fear to lose, Though it be never lost : and if our watchfulness Ought to be wise and serious 'gainst a thief
68 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
That comes to steal our goods, things all without us, That proves vexation often more than comfort ; How mighty ought our providence to be, To prevent those, if any such there were, That come to rob our bosom of our joys, That only makes poor man delight to live !
But finding it
Grow to a noted imperfection in me, For anything too much is vicious, I come to these disconsolate walks, of purpose, Only to dull and take away the edge on't. I ever had a greater zeal to sadness, A natural propension, I confess, my lord, Before that cheerful accident fell out — If I may call a father's funeral cheerful, Without wrong done to duty or my love.
That there are not more of these complicated sentences may well happen since Massinger would naturally use the original verse as a basis, and would so be somewhat influenced by the simpler style, except when he left the original entirely, as he seems to have done in the first speech. Finally, these passages show Massinger's method of didactic harangue, and his lack of power to phrase at a crisis. For instance, the first 24 lines are a clumsy preparation for the entrance of Leonides ; then when Leonides comes out, instead of greeting his son and the son's wife he talks about the sweet sound of woman's voice. Cleanthes replies to this with a set speech, lines 37-49 :
I hope to see you often and return Loaden with blessings, still to pour on some ; I find 'em all in my contented peace, And lose not one in thousands ; they're disperst So gloriously, I know not which are brightest. I find 'em, as angels are found, by legions : First, in the love and honesty of a wife, Which is the first and chiefest of all temporal blessings ; Next, in yourself, which is the hope and joy Of all my actions, my affairs, rny wishes ; And lastly, which crowns all, I find my soul Crown'd with the peace of 'em, th' eternal riches, Man's only portion for his heavenly marriage !
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OP THE OLD LAW. 59
Nothing could be more like Massinger. This is the very thing a man might moralize out of the scene after it was over, but not at all what he would say while he was there. Again, at another crucial moment, when Leonides has been found by the duke's followers and brought out to be taken to execution, when Cleanthes must realize that he has himself been found guilty of treason, his passion labors out as follows, lines
170-179:
Father ! O father ! now I see thee full In thy affliction ; thou'rt a man of sorrow, But reverently becom'st it, that's my comfort ; Extremity was never better grac'd, Than with that look of thine ; O, let me look still, For I shall lose it ! all my joy and strength [Kneels.
Is e'en eclips'd together. I transgressed Your law, my lord, let me receive the sting on't ; Be once just, sir, and let the offender die : He's innocent in all, and I am guilty.
There can be little doubt that most of this scene was phrased by Massinger.
The last act is the most confusing part of the play. All three men seem to have had a hand in it in one place or another. Excepting the passages assigned to Middleton, I feel less certain of the divisions here than of any others. They are assigned, however, as follows : Middleton, lines 39-78, 106-124, 148-262, and 417-531 ; Massinger, lines 1-38, 79-105, and 125-147 ; Rowley and Middleton, lines 263-416 ; l Middleton, Rowley and Massinger, lines 532-713.
The Middletou passages, lines 39-78, 106-124, 148-262, and 417-531, contain both serious and comic matter. The serious matter in the first three passages is in Middleton's smooth blank verse, with very few double endings or irregu- larities of any kind. The difference between Middleton 's
1 In considering the amount of work done by each, it must be kept in mind that Bullen has made a mistake in numbering the lines, so that between the line numbered 301 and that numbered 400 there are only eight lines.
60 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
verse and that of the reviser can be seen in such a passage as lines 100-1 11:
Sim. Ay, and gave me
Those elbow-healths, the hangman take him for't ! They had almost fetched my heart out : the Dutch venny I swallow'd pretty well ; but the half-pike Had almost pepper' d me ; but had I took long-sword, Being swollen, I had cast my lungs out. A Flourish. Enter Evander, and Oratilus.
First Court. Peace, the duke !
Evan. Nay, back t' your seats ; who's that ?
Sec'd Court. May't please your highness, it is old Lysander.
Evan. And brought in by his wife ! a worthy precedent
Of one that no way would offend the law, And should not pass away without remark. You have been look'd for long.
Lysan. But never fit
To die till now, my lord. My sins and I Have been but newly parted ; much ado etc.
The difference in style between the verses of Simonides and those that follow is unmistakable. It is equally easy to detect Middleton's humor between lines 148 and 262. It has a mildly satirical tone, and is pointed toward the law courts, one of Middleton's favorite themes, as in lines 157-159 :
Evan. All our majesty
And power we have to pardon or condemn
Is now conferr'd on them. Sim. And these we'll use
Little to thine advantage.
In other words, the judgment of the court is made before the trial begins. And again in lines 195-202 is a bit of genuine Middleton humor :
Sim. Know then, Cleanthes, there is none can be
A good son and bad subject ; for, if princes Be call'd the people's fathers, then the subjects Are all his sons, and he that flouts the prince Doth disobey the father : there you're gone.
First Court. And not to be recover'd.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 61
Sim. And again —
Sedd Court. If he be gone once, call him not again. Sim. 1 say again, this act of thine expresses
A double disobedience.
That Middleton was solely responsible for the very comic scene from 432 to 531, — lines 417-432 are his, but are not comic, — is shown by the absence of Rowley's marked charac- teristics, and by the fact that Massinger could not do such work. The noisy good nature of Gnotho in his repeated " Crowd on, I say," must not be confused with the vulgar noise and horseplay of Rowley. Then, too, this passage con- tains the subtle, almost Shakespearean humor that was also found in Falso in P, and in Blurt and his assistants in BMC. Notice lines 444-453 :
Leon. Good sir, a few words, if you will vouchsafe 'em;
Or will you be forc'd ?
Ono. Forced ! I would the duke himself would say so. Evan. I think he dares, sir, and does ; if you stay not,
You shall be forced.
Ono. I think so, my lord, and good reason too ; shall not I stay, when your grace says I shall ? I were unworthy to be a bridegroom in any part of your highness' s dominions, then : will it please you to taste of the wedlock-courtesy ?
Falstaff himself has hardly bowed to authority and slapped it on the shoulder at the same time with better wit. It is the good-natured, unethical, slightly satirical, shrewd mother wit found frequently in Middleton's early plays. There can be almost no doubt who wrote this.
The Massinger passages, lines 1-38, 79-105, and 125-147, have the usual characteristics, — the double endings, the regu- lar verse even in broken lines, and the careful explanations ; still more, they lack the dignity and rhythm, and the humor of Middleton, and they lack the dash and noise of Rowley. Notice the clumsy humor of lines 88-105 :
Eug. Now, servants, may a lady be so bold
To call your power so low ?
62 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
Sim. A mistress may ;
Hhe can make all things low ; then in that language
There can be no offence. Eug. The time's now come
Of manumissions ; take him into bonds,
And J am then at freedom. SeJd Court. Is't possible these gouty legs danc'd lately,
And shatter'd in a galliard ? Eug. Jealousy
And fear of death can work strange prodigies. Secfd Court. The nimble fencer this, that made me tear
And traverse 'bout the chamber ?
These lines are too stiff and formal for Middleton, and too tame for Rowley to write at the climax of the play ; they can be by no one but Massinger, especially since they closely resemble his other work.
The only passage that retains Rowley's characteristics at all clearly is in lines 263—416, where it is in close proximity to portions of the law that would probably be by Middleton, and with some verses that are rather by Middleton than by Rowley. Compare lines 258-275 :
Evan. These are thy judges, and by their grave law
I find thee clear, but these delinquents guilty.
You must change places, for 'tis so decreed :
Such just pre-eminence hath thy goodness gain'd,
Thou art the judge now, they the men arraign'd. [To Clean. First Court. Here's fine dancing, gentlemen. Sec?d Court. Is thy father amongst them ? Sim. O a pox I I saw him the first thing I look'd on.
Alive again ! 'slight, I believe now a father
Hath as many lives as a mother. Clean. 'Tis full as blessed as 'tis wonderful.
O, bring me back to the same law again !
I am fouler than all these ; seize on me, officers,
And bring me to my sentence. Sim. What's all this ?
Clean. A fault not to be pardon'd,
Unnaturalness is but sin's shadow to it. Sim. I am glad of that ; I hope the case may alter,
And 1 turn judge again. Evan. Name your offence.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OP THE OLD LAW. 63
It will be noticed that if all the rough and incomplete verses and coarse expressions, which destroy the dignity of this trial, are omitted, the remaining lines, which are thoroughly like Middleton's, will still make good sense and good verses. It looks, therefore, as though the speeches of the First and Second Courtiers, of Simonides, and the last one of Cleanthes, had been interpolated. For the same reasons, the comments upon the law in lines 289-409 do not seem like Middleton. Instead, he would be much more likely to read the whole law through, and then sentence the guilty. Although he himself is inclined to make sport of the law courts, he does not allow the guilty to do so in the presence of a serious judge. He would not allow such jests as occur in these two passages while the law is being administered by the duke. Compare P, act V, scene 1, lines 210-229 :
Jew. Wife. Who would not love a friend at court ? what fine galleries and rooms am I brought through ! I had thought my Knight durst not have shown his face here, I. Pho. Now, mother of pride and daughter of lust, which is your
friend now ? Jew. Wife. Ah me I Pho. I'm sure you are not so unprovided to be without a friend
here : you'll pay enough for him first. Jew. Wife. This is the worst room that ever I came in. Pho. I am your servant, mistress ; know you not me ?
Jew. Wife. Your worship is too great for me to know ; I'm but a small- timbered woman, when I'm out of my apparel, and dare not venture upon greatness.
Pho. Do you deny me then ? know you this purse ?
Jew. Wife. That purse ? O death, has the Knight serv'd me so ?
Given away my favours ? Pho. Stand forth, thou one of those
For whose close lusts the plague ne'er leaves the city. Thou worse than common ! private, subtle harlot !
These scenes are quite similar in theme and characters, but the Jeweler's wife does not dare be familiar with the young prince, as are Eugenia and Simonides with Evander. The
64 EDGAR COIT MOKKIS.
trial scene in The Old Law lacks the dignity that Middleton puts into his serious presentations of courts of law.
The characteristics of all three men are so closely com- bined in lines 532-713, that the only safe thing to do is to point out a few places where these characteristics jostle one another closest. The lines seem to have been too much revised to allow of anything like probable assignment of more than brief passages. For instance, Gnotho for the most part keeps the satirical, dry humor originally given him by Middleton, as in lines 549-553 :
Ye are good old men, and talk as age will give you leave. I would speak with the youthful duke himself; he and I may speak of things that shall be thirty or forty years after you are dead and rotten. Alas ! you are here to-day, and gone to sea to-morrow.
This is followed by some prosaic verse which is quite unlike Middleton and equally unlike that which Evander uses in other places; for example, compare lines 554-559 and 569- 572, with 424-431 :
In troth, sir, then I must be plain with you. The law that should take away your old wife from you, The which I do perceive was your desire, Is void and frustrate ; so for the rest : There has been since another parliament Has cut it off.
Your old wives cannot die to-day by any Law of mine ; for aught I can say to 'em They may, by a new edict, bury you, And then, perhaps, you pay a new fine too.
Of sons and wives we see the worst and best. May future ages yield Hippolitas Many ; but few like thee, Eugenia ! Let no Simonides henceforth have fame, But all blest sons live in Cleanthes' name — Ha ! what strange kind of melody was that ? Yet give it entrance, whatso'er it be, This day is all devote to liberty.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 65
The last passage is entirely different in tone and verse from the other two ; it is rhythmical and dignified, while the others have the roughness of Rowley with the clumsy humor of Massinger. Only a little farther on comes such a noisy, coarse, punning passage as lines 585-604. Omitting some of the worst, I will quote 591-594 to show their quality :
Avaunt, my venture ! it can ne'er be restor'd, Till Ag, my old wife, be thrown overboard : Then come again, old Ag, since it must be so : Let bride and venture with woful music go.
Another passage, in which Gnotho has been robbed of some of his boisterousness, is found in lines 613—627. It is very badly printed in the quarto, as though from a bad place in the manuscript, where the reviser had been at work, — I give Bullen's restoration :
All hopes dash'd ; the clerk's duties lost,
[My] venture gone ; my second wife divorc'd ; And which is worst, the old one come back again 1 Such voyages are made now-a-days ! I will weep two salt [ones out] of my nose, besides these two fountains of fresh water. Your grace had been more kind to your young subjects — heaven bless and mend your laws, that they do not gull your poor country-men
[in this] fashion : but I am not the first, by forty, that has been undone by the law. 'Tis but a folly to stand upon terms; I take my leave of your grace, as well as mine eyes will give me leave : I would they had been asleep in their beds when they opened 'em to see this day I Come, Ag ; come, Ag.
The four verses are like Rowley; the rest of the passage has a suggestion of both Rowley and Middleton, but is wordy enough to be the work of Massinger. It is probably Massinger's dilution of Rowley's boisterous Gnotho, with just a slight touch of Middleton's wit in a few places. A little further on we have Middleton's dignified closing of the play with a speech by Cleanthes ; lines 675-686 :
66 EDGAR COIT MOBKIS.
Here's virtue's throne,
Which I'll embellish with my dearest jewels Of love and faith, peace and affection ! This is the altar of my sacrifice, Where daily my devoted knees shall bend. Age-honour* d shrine ! time still so love you, That I so long may have you in mine eye Until my memory lose your beginning ! For you, great prince, long may your fame survive, Your justice and your wisdom never die, Crown of your crown, the blessing of your land, Which you reach to her from your regent hand !
But after this comes a passage of twenty-six rather ragged verses, containing nine double endings, and closing with a moral tag, thoroughly after the manner of Massinger. Thus is woven together, in these last hundred lines, some of the rhythmical verse and keen wit of Middleton, some of the noise and coarse humor of Rowley, and some of the wordi- ness and didacticism of Massinger.
My analysis of the authorship of The Old Law may be summarized as follows :
Middleton, I, 1, 106-110, 126-159, 260-274, 312-349, 395-
441;
II, 1, 78-99, 172-211 ; II, 2, 75-121 ;
III, 1, 1-356 ;
IV, 1,1-45;
V, 1, 39-78, 106-124, 148-262, 417-531 :
Kowley, 1, 1, 1-105, 111-125, 160-259, 350-394; II, 1, 1-78, 100-171 ; 11,2,1-74,121-137;
III, 2, 56-196, 258-268, 309-318;
IV, 1,46-177; IY, 2, 254-284 :
Massinger, IV, 2, 1-253 ;
V, 1, 1-38, 79-105, 125-147 :
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 67
Middleton-Rowley, I, 1, 275-311, 442-488; 11,1,211-272; 11,2,137-204; III, 2, 1-55 ; V, 1, 263-416 :
Middleton-Massinger, III, 2, 197-257, 269-308 : Middleton-Rowley-Massinger, V, 1, 532-713.
VI.
If this distribution of passages is approximately correct, there can be but one conclusion as to the method of composi- tion. Collaboration is out of the question, and revision by more than one of the men at a time is improbable. It must, therefore, be concluded that the play was written by one of the men, was later revised by another, and still later revised by the third.
A careful consideration of the passages assigned to Mas- singer will show that he was clearly a reviser; he appears only in the third, fourth, and fifth acts. That Rowley also was a reviser, and that Middleton was the writer of the original play, are apparent from the following facts : Rowley has little to do with the present form of the fifth act, but is prominent in all of the others; the main story of the feigned law and the main portion of the Gnotho story are by Middle- ton; passages that resemble Middleton are like his early work ; Middleton wrote two other plays, P and BMC, with the same plot scheme, namely, a tragi-comedy main plot and a sub-plot from the lower London life ; and the climax of the play, still retaining many of Middleton's characteristics of style, allows everybody to repent and escape punishment in the genuine Middleton manner.
It has already been shown (page 2) that The Old Law is probably an early play, tire. 1599. The date of the revisions
68 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
can only be surmised. Mr. Thomas Seccombe1 and Mr. Fleay2 assert that in 1614 the Prince of Wales' Company, with Kowley as the leading comedian, was united with the Lady Elizabeth's Company, for which Middleton was writ- ing. The same authorities assert that in 1616 the companies separated, Rowley and Middleton following their old com- panies. During the amalgamation of the two companies there was an opportunity for the two men to work together ; but I doubt if the play was revised at that time. The revision by Rowley of a play originally by Middleton, when both men were working for the same company, could hardly have occurred except by collaboration. That collabo- ration is highly improbable is shown by the fact that there are no less than six, possibly seven, places where it is practically impossible to separate Rowley's work from Middleton's. Had they been working together, we should expect to find a division of the play, either by acts and scenes, or by comic and tragic situations. It is more likely, therefore, that when the properties were divided at the sepa- ration of the two companies, the manuscript of The Old Law fell into the hands of Rowley. If so, the revision is likely to have been made after 1616.
There is, however, another possibility. Mr. Seccombe and Mr. Fleay assert also that in 1621 Rowley was with the Lady Elizabeth's Company, for which Middleton used to write. At this time he may have got possession of the old manuscript and made the revision. The chief objection to this theory is that Rowley (on the authority of Mr. Seccombe and Mr. Fleay) is supposed to have retired as an actor soon after, and his work on The Old Law shows youth rather than old age. Then, too, an early date, soon after 1616, agrees better with the possible date for Massinger's revision, since it puts the two revisions farther apart.
1 Article on William Rowley in The Dictionary of National Biography. * Chronide of the English Drama ; F. G. Fleay, vol. ii, p. 98.
THE DATE AND COMPOSITION OF THE OLD LAW. 69
That Massinger was the last reviser is pretty evident from some otherwise curious passages in the fifth act. Lines 79-105 and 125-147, both assigned to Massinger, come at a point where Eugenia and Simonides might well make considerable sport if they are to keep up their parts as Rowley began with them. Instead, they are restrainedly humorous in the true Massinger style. In lines 263-416 these two characters become more noisy with less reason for it ; here they more nearly resemble what Rowley would be likely to make of them. Then in lines 532-713, just as Gnotho gets well started in a fine piece of burlesque, the manuscript becomes confusing to the printer, and Mas- singer's style appears. It is not at all difficult, therefore, to infer that Massinger was revising Rowley, and deemed it wise to cut out the coarsest of the noisy burlesque. This explanation will help to make clear the insertion by Massinger of nearly all of the second scene of the fourth act. In the hands of Rowley, this might well have been very low comedy, in all but a small part of the scene in the woods where Leonides is discovered. As such it would natu- rally lead up to a climax of low comedy in the last act. Even as it is, there remains a curious little tag end of inharmonious low comedy in the last few lines of the fourth act. We are rather surprised to see Simonides hide behind Eugenia to escape the wrath of Cleanthes, and then cut his finger on his own sword. This is plainly Rowley's Simonides, not Massinger's. There can be little doubt, therefore, that Mas- singer was the last reviser.
The facts just mentioned not only show who did the last work on the play, but they indicate a method of revision that helps to a possible date. Massinger seems to be expur- gating the lowest comedy, to be making it more dignified, and to be glorifying royalty. This latter fact is shown by the addition to Middleton's ending of the play at line 686. All that follows is in praise of the duke for his royal wisdom and his magnificent entertainment of the old courtiers whom
70 EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
he had imprisoned for a short time. Was this play, then, revised by Massinger for his company to perform in Salisbury House before the King and Queen, as part of the coronation ceremonies in 1625? Such an inference, although it is purely conjectural, is certainly possible. Without some further evi- dence, this can be only a guess; but it has the merit of explaining the method of revision consistently with the fact, deemed of importance by the printer, that the play was "Acted before the King and Queene at Salisbury House."
EDGAR COIT MORRIS.
II.— CATO AND ELIJAH: A STUDY IN DANTE.
The appropriate and frequently quoted words of Orazio Bacci, "E speriamo che anche del Catone non si ritorni a parlare troppo presto/' l have taken their place among those
maxims
Le qua' fuggendo tutto '1 mondo onora.
The copious stream of Cato literature has flowed on undi- minished, and the end is apparently no nearer than before. If, then, a new recruit is to join the procession of those who seem to honor Bacci's precept more in the breach than in the observance, it behooves him to declare at the outset that he does so only because he has material to offer which he believes to be new and of a nature to expedite the ultimate solution of the problem.
To facilitate reference, let us begin by quoting the passage2 in which Cato first appears : —
Lo bel pianeta che ad amar conforta
Faceva tutto rider 1'oriente,
Velando i pesci ch' erano in sua scorta. lo mi volsi a man destra, e posi mente
All' altro polo, e vidi quattro stelle 3
Non viste mai fuor che alia prima gente. Goder pareva il ciel di lor fiammelle.
O settentrional vedovo sito,
PoichS private sei di mirar quelle 1
1 Buttettino detta Societd, dantesca italiana, Nuova Serie n, p. 75.
*Purg. i, 19-111. It will be remembered that Dante and Virgil have just emerged from hell, and find themselves, at early morn, on the shore of the island of purgatory. Venus and Pisces are in the eastern sky.
8 Whether or not these four stars are the Southern Cross, they certainly represent allegorically the four cardinal virtues : justice, prudence, temper- ance, and fortitude. Compare Purg. vui, 89-93, where three stars symbolize the three theological virtues : faith, hope, and charity.
71
72 C. H. GRANDGENT.
Com' io dal loro sguardo fui partito, Un poco me volgendo all' altro polo, La onde il carro gia era sparito,
Vidi presso di me un veglio solo, Degno di tanta riverenza in vista, Che piu non dee a padre alcun figliuolo.
Lunga la barba e di pel bianco mista Portava, e i suoi capegli simigliante, Be' quai cadeva al petto doppia lista.
Li raggi delle quattro luci sante Fregiavan si la sua faccia di lume Ch' io '1 vedea come il sol fosse davante.1 " Chi siete voi, che contro al cieco fiume Puggito avete la prigione eterna ? " Diss' egli, movendo quell' oneste piume. "Chi v' ha guidati? O chi vi fu lucerna, Uscendo fuor della profonda notte Che sempre nera fa la valle inferna ?
Son le leggi d'abisso cosi rotte? O £ mutato in ciel nuovo consiglio, Che dannati venite alle mie grotte? "
Lo Duca mio allor mi di£ di piglio, E con parole e con mano e con cenni, Riverenti mi fe' le gambe e il ciglio.
Poscia rispose lui : " Da me non venni ; Donna scese del ciel, per li cui preghi Della mia compagnia costui sovvenni.
Mostrato ho lui tutta la gente ria ;
Ed ora intendo mostrar quegli spirti
Che purgan se sotto la tua balia.2 Come io 1'ho tratto, saria lungo a dirti :
Dell' alto scende virtu che m' aiuta
Conducerlo a vederti ed a udirti. Or ti piaccia gradir la sua venuta :
Liberia va cercando, che £ si cara
Come sa chi per lei vita rifiuta. Tu il sai ; che non ti fu per lei amara
In Utica la morte, ove lasciasti
La vesta che al gran di sara si chiara.*
1 Cf. Daniel xii, 3, and Matthew xvii, 2.
* This line shows clearly that Cato has charge of purgatory proper, as well as the shore that lies outside.
3 The epithet chiara, applied to Gate's body resurrected on the day of Judgment, is, according to A. Bartoli (Storia della lett. ital. VI, i, p. 203)
CATO AND ELIJAH. 73
Non son gli editti eterni per noi guasti :
Ch& questi vive, e Minos me non lega ;
Ma son del cerchio ove son gli occhi casti Di Marzia tua,1 che in vista ancor ti prega,
O santo petto,* che per tua la tegni :
Per lo suo amore adunque a noi ti piega. Lasciane andar per li tuoi sette regni : 3
Grazie riporterd di te a lei,
Se d'esser mentovato laggiu degni." " Marzia piacque tanto agli occhi miei,
Mentre ch' io fui di la," diss1 egli allora, " Che quante grazie volse da me, fei. Or che di la dal mal fiume dimora,
Piu mover non mi pud per quella legge
Che fatta fu quando me n'uscii fuora.4 Ma se donna del ciel ti move e regge,
Come tu di', non c' S mestier lusinghe :
Bastiti ben che per lei mi richegge. Va dunque, e fa che tu costui ricinghe
D'un giunco schietto, e che gli lavi il viso,
Si che ogni sncidume quindi stinghe.
and F. Cipolla ( Quatlro lettere intorno al Catone di Dante, in Alii del R. Istituto Veneto, Serie vn, Tomo ix, p. 1111), a reminiscence of the claritas which St. Thomas (Summa Theologia, Suppl. n, Qu. Ixxxv, Art. 1) attributes to the glorified bodies of the just.
1 Marcia, Cato's wife, is still in Limbo, the outermost circle of hell, the abode of virtuous pagans. This little episode of Marcia was perhaps introduced here to satisfy a desire lurking in Dante's mind to develop an allegory which he had outlined in Conv. iv, xxviii: according to this alle- gory, the return of Marcia to Cato (Lucan, Pharsalia n, 326-348) symbolizes the return of the human soul to God. In the above lines Dante may have intended to convey the doctrine that God, since the departure of Christ from earth, has been and always will be indifferent to the fate of the damned. Cf. Luke xvi, 26. It is possible that Dante had in mind also the words of Jesus in John ii, 4.
2 Cf. Conv. iv, v, " O sacratissimo petto di Catone," a translation of " tua pectora sancta," Phars. ix, 561.
3 This verse proves that Cato rules over the whole of purgatory. Cf. the directions given by him in his next speech.
4 These lines, if naturally and rationally interpreted, can mean only that Cato was formerly confined in Limbo and has been subsequently rescued from it. Cipolla (Qaaltro lettere, etc., p. 1112) thinks that the use of the word legge was suggested by Virgil's Georgics iv, 486-487, where legem indi- cates Proserpine's decree given when Eurydice returned to earth.
74 C. H. GRANDGENT.
Poscia non sia di qua vostra reddita ;
Lo sol vi mostrera, che surge omai,
Prender lo monte a piu lieve salita." Cosi spari ; l ed io su mi levai
Senza parlare, e tutto mi ritrassi
Al Duca mio, e gli occhi a lui drizzai.
" II veglio onesto " appears once more,2 to reprove the laggard spirits that are listening to Casella. Even the wise Virgil is abashed at his rebuke.3
The allegorical significance of Dante's Cato has been satis- factorily explained by A. Bartoli,4 whose opinion has been generally though not universally accepted.5 Cato's suicide was an assertion of his independence, and by it as well as by all his previous life he became the type of spiritual freedom — of the liberated will, which, rid of the ties of sin, can return to God. He represents also the soul illumined by the four cardinal virtues, not yet in possession of the theological virtues, but destined to attain them. His final salvation is clearly prophesied.
Impressive and appropriate as this figure appears at the threshold of the realm where sinful but repentant souls are engaged in winning back the lost freedom of the will, it presents several strange and hitherto unexplained incon- sistencies. Its outward appearance is not that which one would naturally ascribe to Cato. Moreover, the hero of Utica was a pagan and a suicide, and as such belongs in the lower
1 It is very unusual for Dante's spirits to vanish in this fashion. The phrase should be noted.
*Purg. 11,118-123.
3 Purg. Ill, 7-11.
*Storia ddla lett. ital. vi, i, Ch. v (published in 1887).
6 Of. A. Bartolini, Studi danteschi n (1891) ; G. Crescimanno, Figure dan- tesche (1893) ; B. Bartoli, Figure dantesche (1896). In the Giornale dantesco IX, vii, 121, is to be found an interesting and ingenious (but, to me, uncon- vincing) article by L. Filomusi Guelfi, II simbolo di Catone net poema di Dante, in which a different allegorical interpretation is attempted. Cf. also G. B. Zoppi, Sul Catone dantesco (1900), discussed by M. Pelaez in the Bullettino della Societd dantesca ilaliana vui, 75.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 75
world, not in heaven nor in purgatory. To investigate the reason of these incongruities is the purpose of the present article.
Dante's u veglio " has the aspect of great age, whereas the real Cato was only forty-nine at the time of his death. Even if this exact number was unknown to the poet, he must have inferred from Cato's conduct in Africa — described in the ninth book of the Pharsalia, which Dante knew almost by heart — that the sturdy Roman was still in the prime of life. Lucan does, to be sure, speak of Cato's uncut hair and beard,1 but not as a token of advanced years ; he tells us that this disre- gard of personal appearance was a protest against the civil war. P. Chistoni, in a recent essay,2 tries to prove that Dante has here confused the two Catos and ascribed to the younger the venerable countenance of the Censor; his own paper, however, furnishes evidence that such a mistake was most unlikely, for he calls attentibn to the fact that Dante was constantly using works of Orosius and Cicero 3 in which the two are plainly distinguished. We must seek another explana- tion. Meanwhile let us observe that the long white hair and beard are suggestive of a patriarch or prophet.
The guardian of purgatory, while alive, was not a Christian. As a pagan, he should be lodged in Limbo. Thither he went at first, but afterwards was taken out and given authority over the island which he now inhabits ; his ultimate abode will be heaven. His rescue can hardly have occurred on any other occasion than the descent of Christ into hell, when the good people of the Old Testament were removed to paradise. Cato alone, among all the virtuous Greeks and Romans, was per- mitted to leave hell with the Hebrew patriarchs. The Corn- media offers, however, two other examples of worthy pagans
1 Phars. ii, 373-375.
8 Le fonti dassiche e medievali del Catone dantesco, in Raccolta di studii critici dedicata ad Alessandro HAncona (1901), p. 97.
3 Especially De Offidis, DeSeneclufe, De Finibus: see p. Ill of Chistoni's article.
76 C. H. GRANDGENT.
who have won salvation : Trajan,1 who was allowed to return to earth, resume his body, and embrace Christianity ; Ripheus,2 who received grace to foresee Christ long before the Savior's advent. Presumably Cato is likened to one of these ; but, as his home is not yet in heaven, it is to be supposed that he has not attained complete blessedness. In fact, he occupies an altogether abnormal position in Dante's universe, being outside of hell, purgatory, and paradise — neither saved, nor damned, nor doing penance. His exceptional state has been remarked by V. Cian.3
But Cato is not only a pagan : he is also a suicide ; hence we might suppose his proper place to be with Pier della Vigna in the second girone of the seventh circle of hell. Dante, elsewhere so strictly othodox, would hardly venture to set at defiance the Church doctrine on suicide. That doctrine is simple and severe; it is based on the commandment "Non occides." 4 The principal authority on the subject is St. Augustine, who is sternly logical, condemning expressly the suicide of Cato,5 which he attributes to impatience, and also that of Lucretia,6 which he lays to false pride. Lactantitis, too, singles out Cato's act for reprobation 7 : the great Roman was a homicide ; he killed himself less to avoid Caesar than to follow the precepts of the Stoics and to leave behind him a great name. u Hie tamen," he adds, " aliquam moriendi causara videbatur habuisse, odium servitutis." Razis, the " manful " suicide of Maccabees,8 who threw himself from the walls of the city to avoid falling into the hands of the enemy, may, according to St. Augustine,9 have died " nobiliter
1 Par. xx, 106-117. * Par. xx, 118-129.
3 Cited by F. Cipolla, Quattro lettre, etc., pp. 1117-1120. Cipolla does not agree with Ci;in.
4 Exodus xx, 13.
5 De Civitate Dei I, xxiii, and ix, iv, 4.
6 De Civitate Dei I, xix.
7 Divince Institutiones m (De falsa sapientia philosophorum), xviii.
8 2 Mace, xiv, 37-46.
9 EpistokB, Classis in, Epistola cciv, 6-8.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 77
et viriliter," but did not die " sapienter ; " his end is merely narrated, not praised, in the Bible ; his act was great, but not good, for it was caused by pride. His example is given to us "judicandum potius quam imitandurn." The same opinion of Razis is expressed by Rabanus Maurus l and by St. Thomas Aquinas.2 The suicide of Judas is condemned by St. Jerome.3 As we pass iii review the Church writers, it seems increasingly strange that Dante should have selected a suicide for one of the most important functions in his poem.4
This function is, as we have seen, the custodianship of the island of purgatory, which consists of a ring of low-lying shore, steep mountain sides, and a flat, circular summit con- taining the terrestrial paradise. The seaside where the guardian dwells, outside of purgatory proper, seems to correspond to the Antinferno, the vestibule of hell, and Eden, the vesti- bule of heaven.5 Cato would then correspond, in a way, to Charon and Matilda, who preside over the other vestibules. His office is a necessary one in the scheme; but could not
1 Oommeutaria in Libros Machabceorum n, xiv.
8 Summa Theologia, Secunda Secundce, Qu. Ixiv, Art. 5.
8 Commenlaria in Amos Prophetam n, v, Vers. 18-20.
4 In an article in the Bullettino della Societd dantesca italiana vm, 1, M. Scherillo notes that Dido, Lucretia, Empedocles, Cleopatra, Lucan, and Seneca are not treated by Dante as suicides, and concludes that the poet regarded self-slaughter as less culpable for a pagan than for a Christian. This opinion is contrary to the views expressed by St. Augustine and Lactantius. Moreover, Dido and Cleopatra are punished in the place befitting their most conspicuous and characteristic fault ; Lucretia can be accounted for, as will presently be shown ; as to the other three, Dante may have forgotten the manner of their death.
6 In an excellent Breve trattato del paradiso di Dante ( Giorn. dant. IX, viii, ] 49) G. Federzoni maintains that the vestibule of heaven consists of the spheres of the moon, Mercury, and Venus. But as these spheres form an integral part of paradise, and are not separated from the rest as the Antin- ferno and Antipurgatorio are divided from hell and purgatory, the terrestrial paradise would seem to correspond more closely to the other vestibules. Just as the desire to reform is the necessary prelude to purgation, so the life of innocent activity is the natural predecessor of religious contem- plation.
78 C. H. GRANDGENT.
Dante have chosen some one else to fill it ? If so, why did he prefer Cato, and how did he contrive to excuse Cato's misdeed ?
In the description of Eden and its surroundings Dante is more influenced than anywhere else by legend. Almost every feature of his terrestrial paradise and the approaches to it can be matched in mediaeval popular or ecclesiastical tradition.1 For instance it was commonly related that the home of our first ancestors was on the top of a mountain, or on an island, or on both. Ephraim the Syrian 2 says that Eden is on a high summit, circular, surrounded by the sea, and divided into an inner — most sacred — and an outer part. This division we find, in a form closer to Dante's, in the Navigatio 8. Brendani* where the two parts are separated by a mysterious river. The beautiful trees and birds, so striking in Dante's description, are common to nearly all the legends. The terrestrial paradise of tradition is often surrounded by a region of horror, and is sometimes — as in Frate Alberico's vision and in St. Patrick's Purgatory — in close proximity to purgatory or hell.4 In an Old French version of the legend of Seth purgatory and Eden are contiguous.* Moreover, we frequently find the earthly paradise enclosed by a wall of fire : so it is in Tertullian, Lactantius, St. John Chrysostom, St. Isidore, and in many later writers.6
Now, who are the inhabitants of this legendary Eden ? There are two regular dwellers, Enoch and Elijah. Some- times, to be sure, we meet other patriarchs ; in the Apocalypse of St. Paul, for example, are to be found, in addition to the two just mentioned, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah,
1 See A. Graf, La leggenda del Paradiso terreslre (1878) ; II mito dd Paradiso terrestre in Miti, leggende e superstizioni del media evo (1892), I. Also E. Coli, II Paradiso leirestre dantesco (1897).
2 Coli, Par. terr. dant., p. 46.
8 C. Schroder, Sanct Brandan (187.1), p. 35.
4 Graf, Mito, pp. 21-22.
6 Coli, Par. terr. dant., pp. 144-145.
6 Graf, Mito, pp. 18-19.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 79
Ezechiel, and Noah.1 The usual tradition, however, is that which appears in a very popular early Italian tale,2 in which the visitors discover only Enoch and Elijah, "li quali pose Dio nel Paradiso deliciano a cid che vivessero infin alia fin del mondo, per render testiinonianza della morte di Gesu Cristo." Similarly in an Old Venetian version of St. Brendan,3 Enoch and Elijah are in the " paradiso delitiarum," still alive, destined to go forth to fight against the Antichrist on the last day. In fact, these two elders — Enoch, who was taken by God,4 and Elijah, who was carried up in a chariot of fire 5 — were generally supposed to have been translated not to heaven but to some happy spot on earth, usually the garden of Eden, where they are still living in the flesh, to come out and meet their death and salvation on the day of Judgment. They were identified with the two nameless witnesses of the Apocalypse.6 Of these two figures, Elijah is of course the more important : he plays a leading part in the Old Testament, while Enoch is barely mentioned ; in the New Testament it is Elijah who, at the Transfiguration, appears in company with Moses conversing with Christ.7 Enoch may, indeed, be regarded almost as a mere appendage to Elijah.
The legend of Elijah and Enoch was recognized by the Church. St. Augustine says : 8 " Plerique exponunt Apoca- lypsim Joannis de duobus illis prophetis, de quibus, tacitis eorum nominibus, loquitur, quod isti duo sancti [Elijah and Enoch] cum suis tune corporibus apparebunt, in quibus nunc vivunt, ut etiam ipsi quemadmodum cseteri martyres pro
1 H. Brandes, Visio S. Pauli (1885), p. 18.
2 I^Ancona e Bacci, Manuale della kit. ital. i, p. 562.
8 F. Novati, La ' Navigatio S. Brendani' in antico veneziano (1892), Ch. xxxviii.
4 Gen. v, 24 : " Ambulavitque cum Deo, et non apparuit : quia tulit eum Deus."
6 2 Kings ii, 11 : " Ecce currus igneus, et equi ignei diviserunt utrumque : et ascendit Elias per turbinem in cselum."
6 Rev. xi, 3-12. i Mat. xvii, 3 ; Luke ix, 30.
8 Epislolce, 01. in, Ep. cxcin, Cap. iii, 5.
80 C. H. GEANDGENT.
Christi veritate moriantur." Elsewhere l he speaks of Elijah alone : " Et quod Joannes [John the Baptist] ad primum adventum, hoc erit Elias ad secundum adventum. Quomodo duo adventus judices, sic duo pra3cones." In another work2 he declares that Elijah will come before the Judgment, and by his preaching and his revelations of the secrets of the Scriptures will convert the Jews to Christ. In still another place 3 he raises the question whether Elijah and Enoch are now in the animal or the spiritual body; the place where they are living is known — it is the spot where Adam and Eve sinned : " Ibi erant illi, quo translati sunt isti ; et illic vivunt isti, unde ut morerentur ejecti sunt illi/'
In Elijah we have, then, the traditional and, so to speak, the official keeper of the terrestrial paradise ; his majestic figure would have well become the place allotted to Cato. Familiar as Dante was with legendary and Church literature, he must at some time have entertained the idea of making Elijah guardian of the island. How early he abandoned it we cannot tell ; but the assignment was so obvious, apparently so inevitable, that Dante must at least have considered it. Furthermore, we can gather from the whole poem circum- stantial evidence that Elijah has been crowded out of the position originally reserved for him. Our poet, in his first conception of the Commedia, must have placed the great prophet somewhere; he had him in mind while writing the Inferno, for he mentions him there in a simile.4 Yet Elijah is not in heaven, since St. John tells Dante that none but Christ and Mary are dwelling in paradise in the flesh.5 He is not to be found in the minutely described garden of Eden. He is surely not in hell nor in purgatory proper. It is barely possible that he has been turned out of the earthly
1 In Joannis Evangelium Tractatus IV, Cap. i, 5. « De Civitale Dei xx, xxix.
* Contra Julianum VI, xxxix.
* Inf. xxvi, 34-39.
6 Par. xxv, 127-128.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 81
paradise to make room for Matilda, but far more likely that his rightful place has been usurped by Cato.
If we can assume that the figure of Cato has been super- posed, in Dante's mind, upon an earlier image of Elijah, some obscure features will at once become clear. In the first place, the great age ascribed to the custodian may be regarded as a remnant of Dante's mental picture of the prophet. Secondly, the scandal of an approved suicide disappears from the original design of the Purgatorio. More explicable, too, is the association of Cato with the patriarchs of the Old Church who were rescued from Limbo. Furthermore, the anomalous situation of the guardian — outside of earth, hell, and heaven, doing no penance, but sure of salvation — a situation which we can hardly imagine Dante making to order for Cato, he found ready made for Elijah. According to St. Augustine,1 the prophet occupies just such an inter- mediate station : —
" Neque enim arbitranduin est Eliam vel sic esse jam sicut erunt sancti, quando peracto operis die denarium pariter accepturi sunt (Mat. xx, 10); vel sic quemadmodum sunt homines qui ex ista vita nondum emigrarunt, de qua ille tamen non morte sed translatione migravit (iv Reg. ii, 11). Jam itaque aliquid melius habet, quam in hac vita posset ; quamvis nondum habeat quod ex hac vita recte gesta in fine habiturus est. . . . Nam si Enoch et Elias in Adam mortui, mortisque propaginem in carne gestantes, quod debitum ut solvant, creduntur etiam redituri ad hanc vitam, et, quod tamdiu dilatum est, morituri (Malach. iv, 5 ; et Apoc. xi, 3-7), nunc tamen in alia vita sunt, ubi ante resurrectionem carnis, antequam animale corpus in spirituale mutetur, nee inorbo nee senectute deficiunt." 8
If we admit that Dante thus altered his original plan, the question remains, why did he alter it? Doubtless the poet desired a single person for the office in question, and it might have been hard to separate Elijah from Enoch; this, however, is not a sufficient reason. The obvious similarity in character
1 De Genesi ad Litteram IX, vi, 11.
2 The author goes on to say that if man had not sinned, he never would have suffered death, but would have been regularly transferred, like Enoch and Elijah, after life to a better state.
6
82 C. H. GBANDGENT.
between Elijah and Cato may have facilitated the substitution, but can scarcely have suggested it.
Among the numerous mediaeval accounts of the terrestrial paradise which Dante may have used in the composition of his Purgatorio, there is one with which he seems to have been particularly familiar. Between the Navigatio Sancti Brendani l and the Commedia there are resemblances so close as almost to exclude the possibility of chance coincidence or indirect influence. A parallel to Dante's neutral angels is found, in the legend, in those neutral souls that are discovered on an island in the form of birds ; their punishment is to be deprived of the sight of God.2 One of St. Brendan's islands is strikingly similar to the island of purgatory : " Viderunt ripam altissimam sicut muruni et diversos rivulos descend- entes de summitate insule fluentes in mare."3 The absence of atmospheric change in Dante's purgatory and Eden re- minds us of that island in the Navigatio, unchanged since the beginning of the world, in which it is always day without darkness.4 The wonderful carvings in the first circle of pur- gatory are matched in the Venetian version of the Brendan : " E si e tante belle figure e ben intaiade, ch' ele par pur eser vive." 5 The " terra repromissionis sanctorum " of the Latin legend is full of fruit trees,6 and in the Venetian text we have most elaborate descriptions of trees and birds.7 This promised land is divided in the middle by a mysterious river, beside which a young man appears : " Ecce juvenis occurrit illis obviam osculans eos cum magna leticia et singulos nominatim
1 See C. Schroder, Sanct Brandan (1871) for the Latin text; F. Novati, La ( Navigatio S. Brendani' in antico veneziano (1892) for a 13th century Italian version. This Venetian work contains considerable amplifications.
'Schroder, p. 12: "Penas non sustinemus. Hie presentiam Dei non possumus videre."
'Schroder, p. 7.
* Schroder, p. 4.
6 Novati, Ch. xxxiv. Cf. Purg. xn, 67-69.
6 Schroder, p. 35.
7 Novati, Ch. xxxi and xxxvii.
CATC AND ELIJAH. 83
appellabat." l In the Venetian the youth is called beautiful, and approaches singing sweetly 2 — a veritable male Matilda !
Now, at the begining of the Navigatio there is a figure that can hardly have failed to affect Dante's conception of the guardian. Barinthus is relating his journey to St. Brendan, and has just told of his disembarking on the shore of the promised land : " Subito apparuit vir quidam magni splendo- ris 3 coram nobis, qui statim propriis nominibus nos appellavit atque salutavit." 4 He does not disclose his name, but gives the travellers information about the island. Then he accom- panies them to their boat : " ascendentibus autem nobis in navim raptus est idem vir ab oculis nostris." Here we find a mate to the curious phrase " cosi spari," at the end of the interview with Cato.5 The custodian of the St. Brendan is not Elijah ; in the Italian version both Elijah and Enoch appear in another place. With this " vir magni splendoris " may have been fused, in Dante's mind, another impressive figure from the Navigatio — that of " Paulus eremita," who is discovered on a desolate island and declares : " Michi promis- sum est expectare diem judicii in ista came." 6 Thus St. Bren- dan's Voyage furnishes a means of easy transition from Elijah to a new guardian.
The first suggestion of Cato for this office probably came, as has often been conjectured, from that line of the Aeneid 7 which describes the good souls in the other world, apart from the wicked : —
Secretosque pios, his dantem jura Catonem.
Very likely Virgil had in mind the Censor, as Servius tells us ; but there was nothing to prevent Dante from taking him to mean Cato Minor. To the fitness of Cato Uticensis for such a trust the ancients bear abundant testimony. Some of
1 Schroder, p. 35. s Novati, Ch. xlii.
3Cf. Purg. i, 37-39. 4 Schroder, p. 4.
6 Purg. i, 109. 6 Schroder, p. 34.
7 Aen. vin, 670.
84 C. H. GRANDGENT.
their most significant utterances have been collected by G. Wolff.1 The same writer points out that the Distwhs of Dio- nysius Cato, attributed to Cato of Utica as well as to the Censor, were used in the middle ages as a text-book, perhaps by Dante himself; their style is almost biblical, " God " is used in preference to " the Gods ; " so they were calculated to enhance the sacredness with which their supposed author was already invested.2 Brunetto Latini, in his Trteor, translates from Sal lust's Catiline the speech of Cato ; and further on he adds selections from the Disticha Catonis.3
A strong incentive to follow this suggestion must have been Dante's own desire to make a fit place for Cato in his poem. Cato Uticensis was Dante's hero. In the Convivio and De Monarchia he speaks of him as of no other human being.4 " E quale uomo terreno," he asks, " piu degno fu di significare Iddio, che Catone ? Certo nullo." 5 Cato was one of those divinely ordained to prepare Rome for the dominion of the world. Dante did not wish to condemn him to hell — " quello glorioso Catone, di cui non fui di sopra oso di parlare " 6 — nor did he venture to place him in heaven ; purgatory proper was not an appropriate location. The intermediate position pre- pared for Elijah seemed best to fit him.
Doubtless more potent than any of the foregoing considera- tions was the need of a type of free will who should at the same time represent the cardinal virtues. It is evident that to Dante's mind the suicide of Cato, to escape tyranny, was, anagogically interpreted, an example of spiritual freedom, just as the departure of Israel from Egypt 7 stood for the " exitus animse sanctaB ab hujus corruptionis servitute ad aeternse glorise
1 Cato der Jungere her Dante, in Jahrbuch der deutschen Dante- Gesellschaft n, pp. 227-229.
3 Wolff, pp. 230-231.
8 Wolff, p. 230. See Tresor vm, 34, and vm, 45, 54, 66.
4 Conv. iv, v, lines (Oxford Dante) 140 ff. ; vi, 95-96 ; xxvii, 31-33 • xxviii, 97 ff. De Man. n, v.
6 Conv. iv, xxviii.
6 Conv. iv, vi. 7 Psalm cxiii, 1 (Vulgate).
CATO AND ELIJAH. 85
libertatem." l " Accedit," he says elsewhere,2 " et illud inenar- rabile sacrificium severissimi libertatis tutoris Marci Catonis." His death is a symbol of the " libertas arbitrii " of all man- kind. " Si legge di Catone, che non a se, ma alia patria e a tutto il mondo nato essere credea." 3 As an embodiment of the four cardinal virtues — prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude — no fitter character could have been found in all history. The very fact that his name consisted of four letters was perhaps not without significance in Dante's eyes. Indeed, with a little ingenuity, we may discover a mystic affinity between that name and the virtues in question : —
Cautio Aequitas Temperantia Obstinatio
Fantastic as this may seem, it is no more so than the interpre- tations of Adam's name which are common in Church writers * and must have been known to Dante.6
One important question remains. How could so good a churchman as Dante bring himself to include Cato, a heathen and a suicide, among the ultimately blessed? The fact that Cato was a pagan is not an unsurmountable obstacle. " In omni gente," says St. Peter,6 " qui timet eum, et operatur justitiam, acceptus est illi." We have already seen that Trajan and Ripheus were saved, and their example shows what Dante's idea was concerning Cato : either God inspired him, before his death, with a belief in the coming Christ ; or, after he had died a pagan and had dwelt in Limbo for some eighty years, Christ, on liberating him with the patriarchs, clad him with his body and allowed him to work out his salvation on the brink of purgatory. The former explanation is offered by
1 Letter to Can Grande vii. * De Man. n, v.
3 Conv. IV, xxvii.
4 See Appendix at the end of this article.
5 Cf. Vita Nuava, Ch. xiii, lines 13-14 (Witte) ; Ch. xxiv, lines 19-30.
6 Acts v, 35.
86 C. H. GRANDGENT.
Dante's son Pietro : l " Christus eum liberavit a limbo ; cum possibile sit et verisimile Deum, qui fecit eum tantum virtuo- sum, inspirasse et credulitatem Christi filii venturi et contri- tum decessisse et sic salvatum." If, however, he had died a Christian, there would have been no reason for his going to Limbo at all ; and when we consider that Elijah, his probable prototype, was generally pictured as abiding in the flesh, the second supposition seems by far the more likely.
But was Cato — even if we overlook for the moment his violent end — worthy of such a favor ? His name does not occur often in the Church writers, but when he is mentioned, it is generally in terms of praise. Tertullian, to be sure, blames the transfer of Marcia to Hortensius ; 2 but this act is excused 3 and apparently commended 4 by St. Augustine. The latter author devotes a chapter 5 to a comparison of Cato and Ca3sar, much to the advantage of the first. Even Tertullian exclaims : 6 " Quis ex illis diis vestris gravior et sapientior Catone ? " Of the unstinted praise bestowed upon Cato by the ancients, and of Dante's boundless admiration for him, we have already spoken.
Cato of Utica was, nevertheless, a suicide ; and the Church was relentless in its condemnation of self-slaughter. In his work De Monarchia 7 Dante quotes freely from Cicero a pas- sage in which the Roman philosopher justifies Cato's act as the only one that could accord with his life and character, and as different from an ordinary suicide : —
" In iis vero quae de Officiis,8 de Catone dicebat : ' Non enim alia in causa Marcus Cato fuit, alia caeteri qui se in Africa Csesari tradiderunt ; atque
1 Quoted by A. F. Ozanam, k Purgatoire de Dante (1862), p. 42. Cf. A. Bartoli, Storia della lett. ital VI, i, 205.
* Apologeticus adversus gentes xxxix.
* De Fide et Operibus vii, 10.
4 Epislolce, Cl. n, Ep. xci, 4.
5 De Civitate Dei v, xii.
* Apologeticus adversus gentes xi. Cf. Conv. iv, xxviii : " E quale uomo terreno piu degno f n di significare Iddio, che Catone ? "
''De Mon. u, v, end. 8De Officiis I, xxxi.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 87
cseteris forsan vitio datum esset, si se interemissent, propterea quod levior eorum vita, et mores fuerunt faciliores. Catoni vero quum incredibilem natura tribuisset gravitatem, eamque perpetua constantia roborasset, sem- perque in proposito susceptoque consilio permansisset, moriendum ei potius quam tyranni vultus adspiciendus fuit.' "
This, however, is the opinion of a pagan writer ; and although that pagan was regarded with the greatest reverence as a philosopher, his views on a theological question would naturally be inconclusive. Our only hope is to find an outlet through the Church doctrine.
Such a loophole St. Augustine furnishes : l " Quasdam vero exceptiones," he says, " eadem ipsa divina fecit auctoritas, ut non liceat hominem occidi." And he proceeds to explain that killing is right when performed at the direct bidding of God. Further on 2 he declares that " qusedam sanctae feminae tempore persecutionis," who killed themselves to preserve their honor, if (as the Church assumes) they did right, must have acted "non humanitus deceptse, sed divinitus jussse." With these holy women Dante seems to have classed Lucretia, whom he assigns to Limbo and not to the suicides' wood.3 St. Augus- tine's teaching is followed and quoted by Rabanus Maurus,4 Abelard,5 and St. Thomas.6 A frequently cited example is that of Abraham and Isaac.7 Dante was perhaps thinking of this instance when he wrote : 8 " Chi dir£ di Torquato giudica- tore del suo figliuolo a morte per amore del pubblico bene, senza divino aiutorio cid avere sofferto? e Bruto predetto similmente?"
A test case of suicide is offered by Samson. His voluntary death 9 could not be dismissed, like that of Razis, as the mis-
1 De Civitate Dei i, xxi. *De Civitate Dei I, xxvi.
3/w/.iv, 128.
* Commentaria in Libros Machabceorum ir, xix.
5 Sic et Non civ.
9 Sum. TheoL, Secunda Secundce, Qu. Ixiv, Art. 5.
7 See, for instance, St. Augustine : Qucestiones in Heplateuchum in, Ivi ; De Civitate Dei i, xxi ; Contra Gaudentium I, xxxi, 39.
8 Conv. iv, v, lines 118-122 (Oxford Dante). 9 Judges xvi, 29-30.
OS C. H. GRANDGENT.
taken deed of an otherwise worthy man. Samson was a sacred character: his birth was announced by an angel;1 as St. Thomas points out,2 "conuumeratur inter sanctos;"3 accord- ing to Rabanus Maurus he is the symbol of Christ.4 St. Augustine solves the problem5 by assuming that Samson's suicide was immediately inspired by God : " Nee Samson aliter excusatur, quod se ipsum cum hostibus ruina domus oppressit, nisi quia spiritus latenter hoc jusserat, qui per ilium miracula faciebat." Abelard repeats St. Augustine, and adds : 6 " De Samson aliud nobis fas non est credere ; cum autem Deus jubet seque jubere sine ullis ambagibus intimat, quis obedientiam in crimen vocet? Quis obsequium pietatis accuset ? " 7 St. Thomas, too, follows St. Augustine.8
If such an explanation can be advanced for Samson's suicide, why (Dante may well have thought) cannot Cato's be excused on the same principle ? " O sacratissimo petto di Catone," he cries,9 "chi presumera di te parlare? Certo maggiormente parlare di te non si puo, che tacere, e seguitare Jeronimo, quando nel Proemio della Bibbia, la dove di Paolo tocca, dice che meglio e tacere che poco dire. Certo manifesto essere dee, rimembrando la vita di costoro e degli altri divini cittadini, non senza alcuna luce della divina bonta, aggitinta sopra la loro buona natura, essere tante mirabili operazioni state. E manifesto essere dee, questi eccellentissimi essere stati stru- menti, colli quali procedette la divina Provvideuza nello Romano Imperio, dove piu volte parve le braccia di Dio essere presenti.7' Cato is not like other suicides. We may note, in passing, that he is not to be found in Virgil's lower world 10 among those
1 Judges xiii, 3. *Sum. Theol, Sec. Sec., Qu. Ixiv, Art. 5.
8 Hebrews xi, 32-33. * Commentaria in Librum Judicum I, xx. 5 De Civitate Dei I, xxi. 6 Sic et Non civ.
7 Cf. Cicero, De Seneclute xx, 73 : " Vetatque Pythagoras injussu impera- toris, id est dei, de prsesidio et statione vitse decedere."
9 Sum. TheoL, Sec. £ec.,Qu. Ixiv.
9 Conv. iv, v, lines 140 ff. (Oxford Dante).
10 Aen. vi, 434 ff.
CATO AND ELIJAH. 89
qui sibi letum Insontes peperere manu.
He is an instrument of Providence, and took his life at the direct command of Heaven, thus at the same time removing an obstacle to the empire and furnishing mankind with an example of free will. His fitness to receive a personal mes- sage from God was doubtless suggested by the words which Lucan puts into the mouth of Labienus : * —
Nam cui crediderim superos arcana daturos Dicturosque magis quam sancto vera Catoni ? Certe vita tibi semper directa supernas Ad leges sequerisque deum. Datur ecce loquendi Cum Jove libertas.
Cato of Utica — "ille deo plenus," as Lucan calls him2 imme- diately after the passage cited — simply executed God's behest. He has no guilt to purge away : all he lacked in life was Christian faith, which, by heavenly favor, he is now permitted to acquire. And when, on the day of Judgment, his great office shall be abolished, he will take, among the just, the place befitting his virtues and foreordained to him by divine mercy.
C. H. GRANDGENT.
APPENDIX.
ON THE MYSTIC INTERPRETATIONS OF THE NAME OF ADAM.
In a little work De Montibus Sina et Sion, formerly attri- buted to St. Cyprian, we read : 3 —
"Hebrai'curn Adam in Latino interpretatur terra caro facta, eo quod ex quatuor cardinibus orbis terrarum pugno comprebendit, sicut scriptum est : ' Palmo mensus sum coelum, et pugno comprehend! terram, et finxi homi-
1 Phars. ix, 554-558. 8 Phars. ix, 564. 8 Paragraph 4.
90 C. H. GKANDGENT.
nem ex omni limo terrse : Ad imaginem Dei feci ilium.' Oportuit ilium ex his quatuor cardinibus orbis terrse nomen in se portare Adam. Inveni- mus in scripturis, per singulos cardines orbis terrse esse a conditore mundi quatuor Stellas constitutas in singulis cardinibus. Prima stella orientalis dicitur avaro\-fi, secunda stella occidentals Mo-is, tertia stella aquilonis &PKTOS, quarta stella meridiana dicitur jueo-ij/ijSp/o. Ex nominibus stellarum numero quatuor, de singulis stellarum nominibus tolle singulas litteras principales, de stella Anatole, a, de stella Dysis, d, de stella Arctos, a, de stella Mesembria, m: in his quatuor litteris cardinalibus habes nomen Adam. Nam et in numero certo per quatuor litteras Graecas nomen desig- natur Adam : ita a, fj.la, id est unurn ; 5, rcWapa, id est quatuor, a, pia, id est unum ; /*, reo-frapdicovTa, id est quadraginta. Fac et invenies numerum quadragenarium senarium. Hie numerus XLVI passionem carnis Adse designat, quam carnem in se figuralem Christus portavit, et earn in ligno suspendit."
Forty-six years (the text continues) were spent in building, or rebuilding, Solomon's temple,1 which symbolizes the body of Christ, the " second Adam." St. Augustine repeats both these interpretations.2 In another place3 he says the name Adam indicates that the descendants of the first man will occupy the four regions of the earth 4 and that the elect will be gathered from the four winds.5 Similarly Bede tells us, at some length, that the four Greek letters which spell Adam stand for the dispersal and gathering of man ; he adds that the forty-six years occupied in the construction of the temple represent the forty-six days during which Christ's body was in process of formation in his mother's womb.6 Bede's state- ment is repeated, word for word, by Alcuin.7
C. H. G.
^ohnii, 19-21.
8 In Joannis Evangdium, Tractatus IX, xiv ; x, xii.
8 Enarratio in Psalmum XCV, 15.
*Gen. ix, 19.
'Markxiii, 27.
* In S. Joannis Evangdium Expositio ii, Vers. 20.
7 Commentaria in Joannem n, iv, Vers. 20.
III.— PRACTICAL PHILOLOGY.1
The people of this country are commonly supposed to be in a high degree practical, and the word is often used in praise of Americans as possessing a clear vision of the hard facts of life and as governing their conduct accordingly, so as to get the best results possible. The typical American is supposed to be a practical man, not an idealist or a misty theorizer absorbed in meditations that lead to nothing. But the same word may also be used to imply a reproach, not the less real for being covert; it may suggest that ours is a civilization which looks upon material prosperity as the highest good and cares but little if at all for whatever is intangible. That our colleges and universities attract a large number of students of capacity and industry is good evidence that the young men of this country do not all understand success in life to be synonymous with the acquisition of wealth. But it cannot be said that we have in our universi- ties all the students we want. There is still room for a great increase in their numbers before we need feel that there is any risk for us of an intellectual proletariat.
We certainly do not wish to increase the number of students by having our universities become practical in any low sense of the word. But if we have definite work to do and defi- nite aims in our work, there must be a choice in methods ; some are better than others, and a recognition of the condi- tions under which we live and have to do our work is implied in the word practical. It is this that I have in mind when I speak of practical philology. If philology is to maintain or improve its position among university studies, if it is to do all that it can do and to do it in the best
1 An address delivered in Cambridge by Professor Sheldon, as President of the Association, on the 26th of December, 1901. — ED.
91
92 E. S. SHELDON.
possible way, it must be practical in this sense. I do not mean by saying that philology should be practical, that it should be so studied and taught that the student may be able when he leaves the university to use it as a means of gaining a livelihood.
It is my purpose to speak in the first place of some mis- conceptions or misunderstandings of philology on its purely linguistic side which may hamper us in the work of teaching. If I speak of these misunderstandings and contrast with them the views of modern philology as I understand these latter, it is because, in spite of all that has been written on linguistic science, they are still very prevalent among edu- cated people. It is quite possible that in some details not all philologists would agree entirely with me, but I hope such disagreement would be only in details. In the second place I intend to say a few words about the final work of candi- dates for the degree of doctor of philosophy, and I shall then add some remarks on the study of literature in its relations to linguistic science.
Before taking up the purely linguistic matters a general observation may be permitted, one that applies not to teachers of philology alone, but to all university teachers. It is obvious that it is not for our interest to put any unnecessary obstacles in the path of the votary of learning. The attrac- tions of the scholar's career are real enough and strong enough to draw an increasing number of students to our universities if we will allow those attractions a fair chance. Let not the scholars of any branch of learning set themselves apart as a chosen few who look askance at new comers. Anything like an attempt to create or revive a spirit of caste, an aristocracy of learning, is in this country at least out of place. On the contrary, if a clearer understanding of the nature of our work will bring about a legitimate increase in the number of our students or otherwise help us, then we should further that clearer understanding.
Among the misconceptions which embarrass us, especially at the outset, in our teaching is the narrow view often taken
PRACTICAL PHILOLOGY. 93
of the relation of grammar to language and of the dictionary to language. People are accustomed to look upon grammar as containing the rules to which they must conform in the use of language, whether the language be Greek, Latin, German, French, or English, and they are only too apt to think that the larger English dictionaries contain all the words that anybody has the right to use in speaking or writ- ing English, and that any word in the dictionary may be so used. This view of grammar as a code of laws is almost inevitable in the study of a dead language with a highly developed inflexional system, such as classic Latin, and it may be admissible as a matter of convenience for teaching the facts of any language to schoolboys. But it would be of some assistance to us if the views of philologists on grammar, dictionary, and language were better known. We should then hardly need to explain that we look upon grammar simply as the description of the structure of a language, of its condition during some definite period in its constantly changing history, and that to us a dictionary is a more or less incomplete list of the words and phrases used in a language in some period of its life, with definitions (often inexact) of these words and phrases.
If merely a theoretical question of definition of the words grammar and dictionary were at issue, no great harm would be done by this difference in the understanding of these words. Unfortunately the not wholly unjustifiable notion of grammar which I have mentioned as common is bound up with and is in part the cause of certain other misconcep- tions which are the harder to correct because they are not all entirely and absolutely wrong, and because they concern the question of the standard of correctness in speech. I am thinking of the opinions of educated people in general about what is right and what is wrong in language, opinions which are sometimes pretty firmly held, but which often must be unlearned or modified before the student can take the proper view of questions of linguistics.
94 E. 8. SHELDON.
For example, the student has to learn to distinguish be- tween the state of things in English speaking and writing among the educated, where we all try to conform to a standard, the standard of good usage, and the state of things in philological work, where ordinarily and properly no attempt is made to set off certain existing linguistic usages as right and others as wrong. The investigator may be reproached with not using right methods, that is, with not conforming strictly to the proper philological methods, but the objects of his investigation, the phenomena of language, are to him in general all equally right, or, rather, the question what is right and what is wrong does not arise at all.
So far as the student's notions of correct English recognize good usage as the standard we meet no serious difficulty. But sometimes, more or less consciously, a different standard is set up. For the purposes of linguistic science the normal form of language is not the written language, but the spoken language, and it is also the natural, careless, unconscious, colloquial speech which furnishes the philologist with his best illustrative and explanatory material, because this is freest from intrusive artificial influences. In our vocabulary we recognize the important division into learned and popular words, a division which is of such importance in the Romance languages, and we find that in English as in those languages the popular or familiar words have obeyed with great strict- ness certain laws of phonetic change, while the learned words are not thus regular, and they even seem to the philologist to be barbarous intrusions which interfere with the regular and harmonious development of the language. Just so it is the colloquial pronunciations which the student of linguistics must observe and which to him seem most important as being most regular. To him the pronounced word is the word, its written form is only of secondary importance, though the latter may also be of value and even of great value to him. When these two forms, the written and the spoken, disagree, it is the latter which is or should be in his
PEACTICAL PHILOLOaY. 95
eyes the more important. Of course this applies to popular words primarily, and the more learned a word is the less important its pronunciation is to him in his study of the natural growth and changes of the language.
Here now arises opportunity for a misunderstanding, and the philologist himself, if he is not on his guard, may be to blame for it, at least in part. We all, philologists as well as others, must accept the principle that in the use of language, whether it be a question of syntax that arises or one about the proper pronunciation of a word, good usage is decisive. The question of the right pronunciation of a word is not one for the philologist as such to decide, for it is a question not what the facts of pronunciation are, but what usage is accepted as the best, and his knowledge on that point may or may not be of value. But if a person is known to be a philologist he may be asked to give his opinion as one who is an expert in the historical study of the language and who can accordingly tell what pronunciation ought to be adopted. Let him not accept this erroneous view of his functions as a philologist. He can perhaps tell what would be the regular pronunciation if phonetic laws were observed without any interference of disturbing influences, but it does not follow that that regular pronunciation is really the correct one. Good usage is the tribunal to be appealed to, not the philologist, however learned he may be. The philologist must be care- ful not to put philology in a false position.
Good usage can sometimes be alleged on both sides of a question of pronunciation, and in this case the philologist is perhaps justified in casting the weight of his opinion in favor of one side or the other. But even then he must be cautious, and it will often if not usually be best to recognize both sides as right, or at least not to assume that either is wrong. Sometimes a basis in the history of the language can be found for different pronunciations, as in the case of words contain- ing an r final or before a consonant, such as star, cord, word. Those Americans who do not pronounce this r in the same
96 E. 8. SHELDON.
way as an r at the beginning of a word, but substitute for it a vowellike murmur or nothing at all can defend their pro- nunciation on historical grounds just as those other Americans also can do who pronounce the r alike in all places where it occurs in the written word. Neither side need call the other wrong ; we may leave it to the future to decide which, if either, will ultimately be recognized as the only right pro- nunciation.
Most Americans, when in doubt what pronunciation has the sanction of the best usage, consult a dictionary, and I see no occasion for blaming them for accepting that as the best authority within their reach. If they accept it as an abso- lutely final or infallible authority they are in error and may be blamed. Now it seems to me that the dictionaries do not give sufficient attention to good colloquial usage, but rather indicate a pronunciation which would sometimes sound a little affected in ordinary conversation, or which is perhaps a little archaic. It would be well if they gave, in case the facts of good colloquial usage justify it, at least two pro- nunciations for words frequently used in conversation ; one that which they give now, the other representing something like the colloquial English which Sweet has tried to represent in his Elementarbuch des gesproehenen Englisch and in his Primer of Spoken English. That this would not be an easy task may be granted, that Sweet's pronunciation sometimes seems to us Americans a little vulgar may also be granted, but that the thing he has attempted is desirable for this country, and perhaps for different parts of this country, as well as for England, seems to me clear. I believe it might even be done in such a way as to have a conservative influ- ence in both countries, and that it would not necessarily encourage diversity of usage. Something of this sort is, to be sure, attempted in dictionaries, but it is at best hardly more than a beginning that has been made. Let me illus- trate. In the admirable Oxford dictionary I find annunciation with the c pronounced like s, but enunciation with c like t>h.
PRACTICAL PHILOLOGY. 97
It seems evident that both pronunciations exist in good usage for each of these nouns in England as well as in America, but only one is recognized for each, and that one is not the same in the two cases.1 In the preface to the first volume of the same work (p. x) we are told that the editor heard at a meeting of a learned society the adjective formed from gas (gaseous) "systematically pronounced in six different ways by as many eminent physicists." Presumably, then, all six could claim the support of some reputable usage. If the proper function of a dictionary is to register certain facts of language of which pronunciation is one, may we not fairly ask for the facts of pronunciation, at least those of presumably good usage, as well as those of spelling and of the meanings of words ? Without them the history of the word is incom- plete, and until the facts of actual usage are known can anyone be trusted to tell what is the best usage without very great risk of errors? In this particular case the Oxford Dictionary gives two pronunciations for the word in its alphabetical place, one American dictionary also gives two, one of them not in the other work, and another gives one, and that not a new one. The pronunciation most familiar to me is not recognized by any of these three dictionaries, but in spite of that I think it is probably in good colloquial usage in both England and America. Such cases as these may serve to show how difficult and also how desirable the task here spoken of is.2
One feature of English colloquial pronunciation may be dwelt on here particularly. That is the alteration of initial or final sounds of words in the flow of speech, for the spell- ing gives no hint of the facts and many are hardly aware of the phenomena. Perhaps not all the following examples will
1 The American dictionaries I have consulted recognize both pronuncia- tions. That different persons are responsible for the letters A and E in the Oxford dictionary seems to show plainly the division of usage in England.
8 It is perhaps necessary to say that no slur is intended to be cast on the great dictionary mentioned above. Its very excellence tempts one to ask of it more than can perhaps be justly demanded.
7
98 E. S. SHELDON.
be universally accepted as representing really good colloquial usage, but I hope