INTRODUCTION
Birth and Education. Of the life of Thomas Lodge comparatively little is definitely known. Yet, though even the year of his birth is uncertain, we are able from the meager facts that have come down to us to see that his life was typically Elizabethan. Like Sidney and like Raleigh, Lodge lived a varied and active life. He was born in either 1557 or 1558 of a rather prominent middle-class London family, both his father and his mother's father having been lord mayors of the city. He was sent to Merchant Taylors' School and afterwards to Trinity College, Oxford, where he graduated in 1577. Of his career at the university we know almost nothing except that among his fellow students were John Lyly, destined to exert a powerful influence upon his style, and George Peele, later to become a dramatist of note, to whom Lodge may to some extent have owed his subsequent interest in the drama.
Early Work. After leaving Oxford, Lodge returned to London and entered the Society of Lincoln's Inn, in other words took up the study of the law. Legal studies seem not to have absorbed his attention to the total exclusion of literary work. The occasion of his first publication was the death of his mother in 1579. In that year appeared the "Epitaph of the Lady Anne Lodge." This is not extant, but his reply to Stephen Gosson's "School of Abuse" has survived. Gosson's book had been a furious attack upon the contemporary drama. Lodge's reply was a fair sample of the literary billingsgate of that controversial age and deserves the oblivion into which it promptly sank. His next publication was his "Alarum against Usurers" (1584), a book belonging to a class of tracts popular in that day in which the characters and customs of the underworld of London were exposed to popular execration. The impulse to engage in this journalistic kind of work Lodge may have owed to Robert Greene, the dramatist, with whom he at this time became intimate, and whose popular books on cony-catching the "Alarum," in its spirit and purpose, closely resembles. Greene certainly furnished some of the inspiration for the dramatic attempts that followed. Lodge's play, "The Wounds of Civil War," though not printed till 1594, may have been acted in 1587. We know that he collaborated with Greene in "A Looking Glass for London and England," produced in 1592.
Later Work and Death. It is not, however, as a dramatist that Lodge is remembered, but as a writer of pastoral romance. Here the discursive and idyllic quality of his genius, both in verse and prose, was to find complete and unhampered expression. Of the pastoral romances that Lodge produced during the next decade "Rosalynde" is by far the most important. The author wrote it, he tells us, while he was on a freebooting expedition to the Azores and the Canaries, "when every line was wet with a surge, and every humorous passion counterchecked with a storm." The immediate success of "Rosalynde" encouraged Lodge to continue the writing of romances. The best known of those that followed, and one of the prettiest of his stories, is "A Margarite [i.e. pearl] of America." This was written while Lodge was engaged in another patriotic raid under Captain Cavendish against the Spanish colonies of South America. The romance is in no sense American, and owes its title solely to the fact that it was written, or, as Lodge claims, translated from the Spanish, while Lodge's ship was cruising off the coast of Patagonia. Lodge certainly knew Spanish; and during the month that the expedition lingered at Santos in Brazil, he spent much of his time in the library of the Jesuit College. Possibly this was the beginning of his leaning toward Catholicism. At all events, he later became a Roman Catholic and wrote in support of that faith at a time when to be other than a Protestant in England was extremely dangerous. Sometime previous to 1600 he took a degree of doctor of medicine at Avignon and wrote among other medical treatises one on the plague. Of this disease, it is said, he died in 1625.
Source of "Rosalynde": "The Tale of Gamelyn." Lodge did not invent the plot of "Rosalynde." The story is based upon "The Tale of Gamelyn." This is a narrative in rough ballad form, written in the fourteenth century and formerly attributed to Chaucer. Indeed all the copies of it that have been preserved occur in the manuscripts of the "Canterbury Tales" under the title "The Coke's Tale of Gamelyn." From the "Tale" Lodge borrowed and adapted the account of the death of old Sir John of Bordeaux, the subsequent quarrel of his sons, the plot of the elder against the younger by which the latter was to be killed in a wrestling bout, the wrestling itself, the flight of the younger accompanied by the faithful Adam to the Forest of Arden, and their falling in with a band of outlaws feasting. Yet from the "Tale" Lodge took hardly more than a suggestion. All the love story was his own. Original also, so far as we know,[1] was the story of the two kings, and the pastoral element—for "Rosalynde" is a pastoral romance.
[Footnote 1: It has been conjectured that Lodge drew upon some Italian novel for the material that he did not find in "The Tale of Gamelyn." There seems, however, no ground for denying to Lodge credit for some originality; for the novel, if it ever existed, has been lost.]
Form: A Pastoral Romance. As a pastoral romance it belongs to the class of books of which Sidney's' "Arcadia" is the most famous representative in English. The "Arcadia" was published in 1590—the same year as "Rosalynde"—though it had been written some ten years earlier. The literary genus to which they belong is a very old one. The prose pastoral romance, that kind of prose romance which professes to delineate the scenery, sentiments, and incidents of shepherd life,[1] is, like most other literary forms, Greek in origin. It goes back at least to the "Daphnis and Chloe" of Longus, the Byzantine romancer of the fifth century A.D. Longus represents the romantic spirit in expiring classicism, the longing of a highly artificial society for primitive simplicity, and the endeavor to create a corresponding ideal. Indeed the pastoral has always been a product of a highly artificial age. Naturally, therefore, it has always been written by men of the city rather than by men of the country. It is distinctly an urban product. That it was so accounts in part for the idealized view of life that it presents. Speaking of the pastoral, Doctor Johnson says in his ponderous way:[2]
Our inclination to stillness and tranquillity is seldom much lessened by long knowledge of the busy and tumultuary part of the world. In childhood we turn our thoughts to the country, as to the region of pleasure; we recur to it in old age as a port of rest, and perhaps with that secondary and adventitious gladness, which every man feels on reviewing those places, or recollecting those occurrences, that contributed to his youthful enjoyments, and bring him back to the prime of life, when the world was gay with the bloom of novelty, when mirth wantoned at his side, and hope sparkled before him.
[Footnote 1: Dr. Johnson defines a pastoral as "the representation of an action or passion by its effects upon a country life." See The Rambler, Nos. 36 and 37.]
[Footnote 2: The Rambler, No. 36. See also Steele's essays on the pastoral in The Guardian, Nos. 22, 23, 28, 30, 32. No. 22 is particularly interesting, because in it Steele assigns three causes for the popularity of the pastoral form,—man's love of ease, his love of simplicity, and his love of the country. Pope's remarks on the pastoral, which may be found in The Guardian, No. 40, are also worth referring to in this connection.]
Probably Doctor Johnson was entirely right about the perennial charm of the pastoral and in his theory that its charm is potent in the direct ratio to the square of the distance that separates the writer and reader from rural life itself. It is not strange, therefore, that in the newly awakened interest in the classics that characterized the Renaissance, when literature was so largely a product of city culture, the revival of the pastoral should have been one of the first manifestations of the earlier Renaissance humanism.
Spanish Influence. Even when all due credit has been given to the charm of the pastoral romance, it still remains doubtful whether the influence of the Greek and Latin classics alone is sufficient to explain its vogue in the Elizabethan age. Their influence, though undoubtedly great, was scarcely sufficient to account for the naturalization in England of so exotic a form as the pastoral. Indeed the pastoral never was thoroughly naturalized, remaining to the end somewhat alien to its English surroundings. Shepherds with their oaten pipes were never quite at home in the English climate, which is ill suited to life in the open, to loose tunics, and bare limbs.[1] It is doubtful whether the pastoral would have become popular in England without the stimulus furnished by contemporary European literature. Most influential of these contemporary influences was the "Diana Enamorada," published about 1558, a Spanish pastoral romance written by Jorge de Montemayor, a Portuguese by birth, a Spaniard by adoption. Although the English translation of the "Diana" did not appear until 1598[2] it was well known to Sidney, who translated parts of it, and imitated it in his "Arcadia" (1590), and to Greene, whose "Menaphon," also an imitation of the "Diana," had appeared in 1589, the year before "Rosalynde." Though it is entirely possible that Lodge may have imitated Greene, it is probable that he, like Greene, had read the "Diana," for it is certain that he knew Spanish,[3] as well as French and Italian, and the "Diana" was already, it is said,[4] the most popular book in Europe.
[Footnote 1: Steele, speaking of the pastoral (The Guardian, No. 30), says, "The difference of the climate is also to be considered, for what is proper in Arcadia, or even in Italy, might be quite absurd in a colder country.">[
[Footnote 2: Though not published till 1598, Bartholomew Young's translation of the "Diana" was made in 1583.]
[Footnote 3: In the epistle To the Gentlemen Readers, prefixed to "A Margarite of America," he tells us that he read the original of that story "in the Library of the Jesuits in Sanctum … in the Spanish tongue.">[
[Footnote 4: Jusserand, "The English Novel in the Time of
Shakespeare," p. 236.]
Style: Euphuistic. Nor was Lodge more original in his manner than in his matter. His style is that of the euphuists. John Lyly's "Euphues, or the Anatomy of Wit" (1579), and its sequel "Euphues and His England" (1580), had set a fashion that was destined for the next two decades to enjoy a tremendous vogue. Lyly's was the first conspicuous example in English of the attempt to achieve an ornate and rather fantastic style. The result became known as euphuism, and those who employed it as euphuists. In its essential features it consists of three distinct mannerisms: a balance of phrases, an elaborate system of alliteration, and a profusion of similes taken from fabulous natural history. Regarding the euphuistic use of balance, Dr. Landmann says of Lyly's prose:[1] "We have here the most elaborate antithesis not only of well balanced clauses, but also of words, often even of sentences…. Even when he uses a single sentence he opposes the words within the clause to each other."
[Footnote 1: In "Shakspere and Euphuism," Transactions of the New
Shakspere Society, 1880-1882.]
Of this balance Lodge's "Rosalynde" affords abundant illustration. Such a succession of sentences as that on page 7, where each sentence is composed of balanced clauses, is a striking but by no means unique example. Usually the contrasted words begin with the same letter or sound, as in the sentences just cited, where the alliteration appears to be employed to emphasize the contrast. Often the alliteration serves merely for ornament, as in the sentence: "It is she, O gentle swain, it is she, that saint it is whom I serve, that goddess at whose shrine I do bend all my devotions; the most fairest of all fairs, the phoenix of all that sex, and the purity of all earthly perfection."
The euphuistic similes were of three kinds. First, there were those drawn from familiar natural objects, such as, "Happily she resembleth the rose, that is sweet but full of prickles." Secondly, there are those taken from classical history and mythology, like these: "Is she some nymph that waits upon Diana's train, … or is she some shepherdess … whose name thou shadowest in covert under the figure of Rosalynde, as Ovid did Julia under the name of Corinna?" Thirdly, there are those similes most characteristic of euphuism, though less commonly found than the two kinds just mentioned, namely, those drawn from "unnatural natural history." Such are the comparisons to "the serpent Regius that hath scales as glorious as the sun and a breath as infectious as aconitum is deadly," to "the hyena, most guileful when she mourns," to "the colors of a polype which changes at the sight of every object," and to "the Sethin leaf that never wags but with a southeast wind."
One of the Last Examples of Euphuism. When Lodge wrote "Rosalynde," euphuism was already on the wane. Even among Lodge's contemporaries the fashion was becoming an object of frequent ridicule. Thus Warner, in his "Albion's England" (1589), complains in the preface, which, by the way, is written wholly in the euphuistic manner: "Onely this error may be thought hatching in our English, that to runne on the letter we often runne from the matter: and being over prodigall in similes we become less profitable in sentences and more prolixious to sense."
By 1627 euphuism had become an obsolete fashion. In that year Drayton wrote of Sidney that he
did first reduce
Our tongue from Lillies writing then in use:
Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of Fishes, Flyes,
Playing with words and idle Similies
As th' English Apes and very Zanies be
Of everything that they doe heare and see,
So imitating his ridiculous tricks,
They spake and writ like meere lunatiques.
"Rosalynde" marks the end of the unquestioned supremacy of euphuism as a literary mode. It was the last book of any importance to employ the style that Lyly had made so popular.
The Charm of the Book. In spite of the conventionality inseparable from the pastoral form, and the obvious artificiality of the style in which it is written, "Rosalynde" is really charming. Its charm is much like that of Watteau's landscapes. Like them, it is an idyll in court dress, a fête élégante, a kind of elegant picnic. Yet, like Watteau's pictures it is of more than merely historic interest, for it is far more than simply a reminder of the fopperies of a vanished time. There is in it, as in the paintings, a lightness and daintiness of coloring, and an indescribable air of freshness that have made the romance appeal to poets as the work of Watteau has appealed to painters. Shakespeare felt its charm so much that he made it the basis of the plot of "As You Like It." That it became one of his "sources" has injured it incalculably in the popular estimation. It has become a commonplace of criticism to declare that "Rosalynde's" chief title to be remembered is its having furnished a hint to Shakespeare. As a matter of fact, however, it had, to use Johnson's phrase, "enough wit to keep it sweet," even without Shakespeare's play "to preserve it from putrefaction." Lodge really had a pretty story to tell, and he tells it, if not with gusto, at least with grace and with some degree of skill. Exquisitely graceful are some of the narrative passages, where the very words seem to possess a clear and pellucid quality like the water of the spring that Rosalynde and Aliena found in Arden, "so crystalline and clear, that it seemed Diana and her Dryades and Hamadryades had that spring, as the secret of all their bathings."[1] Such, for instance, is the account of the night and morning succeeding the first meeting of Rosalynde and Rosader in the Forest of Arden.[2] Graceful, too, are the descriptions of the landscapes in Arden, such as that of the "fair valley" where Rosalynde and Aliena found Montanus and Corydon "seeing their sheep feed, playing on their pipes many pleasant tunes, and from music and melody falling into much amorous chat." So charmingly graceful are these descriptions that, together with Shakespeare, Lodge has made the Forest of Arden almost as much the accepted home of the pastoral as Sicily and Arcadia[3] had been hitherto.
[Footnote 1: P. 31.]
[Footnote 2: Pp. 58 and 60.]
[Footnote 3: Theocritus (283-263 B.C.) localized his "Idyls" in
Sicily; Vergil (70-19 B.C.), his "Eclogues" in Arcadia.]
Lodge's Skill as a Story-teller. To say that Lodge is a skillful as well as a graceful story-teller is, of course, to make an indefensible assertion. In the sixteenth century English fiction was still in its infancy, and English prose was still undeveloped. Yet we do find in Lodge certain qualities of style that show clearly an advance over the formlessness of some of the stories that had preceded. Though the sentence and paragraph structure is loose and amorphous, the transitions from one subject to another are almost invariably well made, or at least are clearly marked. Phrases such as, "But leaving him so desirous of the journey, to Torismond"[1]; "Leaving her to her new entertained fancies, again to Rosader"[2]; "where we leave them, and return again to Torismond"[3]; show clearly a growing regard for the value of clear arrangement, to which the earlier romancers had been indifferent. In the avoidance of digressions, too, Lodge's style is an improvement upon that of his predecessors, and even upon that of most of his contemporaries.[4] The story moves along, if not rapidly, at least continuously from start to finish. There is a gratifying lack of such preposterous complications and tortuous windings as we meet with in the plot of Greene's "Menaphon," for example, where it sometimes seems doubtful whether the characters ever will emerge from so mazy a labyrinth of plot, and where the reader is bewildered by the almost complete lack of unity in the story.
[Footnote 1: P. 12.]
[Footnote 2: P. 17.]
[Footnote 3: P. 50. See, also, pp. 19, 41, 51, 59, 73, 97, 104.]
[Footnote 4: On page 72 Lodge accuses himself of digressing; but the four lines in which he here anticipates the conclusion of the story seem not to warrant the charge.]
The Lyrical Interludes. Lodge's spirit is essentially poetical. One feels that his way of looking at things is that of a true poet; of one, that is, who sees beneath the shows of things. Lodge saw as clearly as Shakespeare did that only love can untie the knot that selfishness has tied. And not only is Lodge a poet in his outlook on life, but also in the narrower sense of the word, for he is one of the sweetest singers of all that band of choristers that filled the spacious times of great Elizabeth with sounds that echo still. The voices of some were more resonant or more impassioned; few, if any, were sweeter. Such a song as Rosalynde's Madrigal, beginning,
Love in my bosom, like a bee
Doth suck his sweet:
is as fluent, as graceful, and as mellifluous as anything that appeared in that marvelously productive time. Lodge's poetic interludes impress one not only by their easy grace and sweetness, but by their melody as well. They possess that truly lyric quality that Burns's songs exhibit to such a marked degree. They seem to sing themselves. It is almost impossible to read aloud the best of them, such as,
Like to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame color is her hair,
Whether unfolded or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosalynde!
without setting them unconsciously to a kind of tune, so essentially musical are the lines. In their wonderful harmony these lyrics remind one of Burns, but in the radiant and ethereal quality of their phrasing they inevitably recall Shelley. Furthermore, these songs illustrate the fact that the Elizabethan lyric had its origin in culture, not among the people, and that the chief sources of its inspiration were Italian and French. In a series of lyrics inserted into the text of "A Margarite of America,"[1] Lodge avowedly imitates the Italian poets Dolce, Pascale, and Mantelli, while in another passage in the same book[2] he expresses his unbounded admiration for the French poet Desportes, and his belief "that few men are able to second the sweet conceits of Philippe Desportes." His "sweet conceits" are imitated, we are told, in Montanus's song on page 29, and again in Rosader's Sonnet, on page 62. In his borrowings Lodge merely followed a prevalent fashion. The early English Elizabethan lyric was wholly experimental and imitative—the product of foreign influences, predominantly Italian and French; and in this respect Lodge's are entirely typical.
[Footnote 1: Hunterian Club reprint, pp. 76 ff.]
[Footnote 2: Hunterian Club reprint, p. 79.]
Historical Significance. Historically the book is interesting as one of the predecessors of the modern novel. But we need to keep in mind that it is really a precursor of the novel and not the thing itself. We have no right, therefore, to demand a well-constructed plot or skill in characterization, because these did not appear in English fiction till a much later time. It was two centuries before the novel, in the time of Richardson, came into being; and it would be manifestly absurd to expect to find in "Rosalynde" an anticipation either of Scott's dramatic skill in plot construction or of George Eliot's clairvoyance that divines the interior play of passion. All that we can reasonably ask is that there be a coherent story told with imaginative skill. In this we are not disappointed. The narrative moves rapidly, at least in the earlier part of the story; and, though in the latter part the setting seems from a modern point of view over-emphasized, it is so charmingly idyllic as almost, if not quite, to justify the over-emphasis. But Lodge really gives us more than we have a right to expect, for, as Mr. Gosse has pointed out,[1] we may trace in the book "certain qualities which have always been characteristic of English fiction, a vigorous ideal of conduct, a love of strength and adventure, an almost quixotic reverence for womanhood."
[Footnote 1: "Seventeenth-Century Studies," p. 18.]
Shakespeare's Dramatization of "Rosalynde." When Shakespeare wrote "As You Like It" he did precisely what so many dramatists of to-day are blamed for doing, that is, he dramatized a well-known novel. Lodge's "Rosalynde" was at this time (about 1598) in its third edition, and the fact that the story was so familiar to the reading public imposed upon Shakespeare certain restrictions which he evidently did not feel in dealing with material that he took from sources less well known. In the case of material drawn from foreign sources he freely altered, omitted, or combined different stories as suited the immediate purpose of his art. In the dramatization of Lodge's "Rosalynde" he changed the plot comparatively little, altering it only so far as was absolutely necessary to fit it for stage presentation, contenting himself with shortening the time of the action, omitting such incidents as were essentially nondramatic, and adding only such characters as would, while making the play more interesting, not materially change the already familiar story.
By condensation and omission Shakespeare shortened the time of the action, which is several months in the romance, to about ten days in the play. This he accomplished by omitting all the preliminary narrative of the death of Sir John of Bordeaux, and the old knight's will; and by shortening the time that elapses in the romance between the brother's quarrel and the wrestling, which he makes occur on successive days. A similar shortening occurs in the matter of Rosader's flight from home. In the play the hero, being warned by Adam, leaves immediately after the wrestling, instead of staying to play his part in the rowdyism at Oliver's (Saladyne's) castle. The effect of this compression is to make the love plot more prominent. The meeting of the two brothers in Arden is also managed somewhat differently. Orlando is hurt in rescuing his brother from wild beasts, instead of being wounded, as in the romance, by rescuing Aliena from a band of robbers. The play ends differently from the romance, as befits a comedy, the usurping duke being converted instead of being killed in battle.
It was, however, in the characterization that Shakespeare departed most widely from the romance. The most obvious change was in the names of the characters. Rosader appears as Orlando, Saladyne as Oliver, Torismond as Duke Frederick, Gerismond as the banished Duke, Alinda as Celia, Montanus as Silvius, and Corydon is shortened to Corin. Of much greater significance than the changes in the names of the characters are the additions and changes in the list of dramatis personae. Nine characters are added outright—Dennis, Le Beau, Amiens, the First Lord, Sir Oliver Martext, William, Audrey, Touchstone, and Jaques. The latter is most noteworthy. Hazlitt calls him the only purely contemplative character Shakespeare ever drew. From the beginning to the end of the play he does absolutely nothing except to think and moralize. Another critic has said, "Shakespeare designed Jaques to be a maker of fine sentiments, a dresser forth in sweet language of the ordinary commonplaces…." It has been suggested,[1] not without some show of reason, that Shakespeare in adapting Lodge's romance for the stage purposely included in the list of dramatis personae a character bearing a strong resemblance to Euphues, the pretended author of the romance. "Like Euphues, Jaques has made false steps in youth, which have somewhat darkened his views of life; like Euphues, he conceals under a veil of sententious satire a real goodness of heart, shown in his action toward Audrey and Touchstone. A traveler, like Euphues, he has a melancholy of his own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and is prepared, like his prototype, to lecture his contemporaries on every theme."
[Footnote 1: Seccombe and Allen, "The Age of Shakespeare," Vol. I, p. 119.]
Scarcely less significant are the changes that Shakespeare made in the characteristics of the dramatis personae. The motive of the elder brother in mistreating the younger he makes envy, not avarice as in the romance, a substitution due to his desire to unify the action by drawing a parallel between the brothers and the dukes. The superiority of Shakespeare's Rosalind to Lodge's delineation of the character has, perhaps, been slightly overestimated. To describe Lodge's Rosalynde as "a colorless being, incapable of entering into the spirit of her part"[1] is really too severe a condemnation. Of course Lodge's heroine does lack the exquisite charm of saucy playfulness coupled with gentle womanliness that makes Shakespeare's Rosalind perhaps the most popular heroine of English comedy. Yet Lodge furnished to Shakespeare far more than a name for his heroine. In the dialogue between Ganymede (Rosalynde) and Aliena there is a good deal of lively banter that must have furnished more than a suggestion for the teasing playfulness of Rosalind in the play. Such, for example, is the conversation between the two girls upon finding a love poem "carved on a pine tree."[2] As in the drama, Rosalynde's wit is always sharpened by the presence of her lover. Often her tone of raillery is noticeably similar to that of Shakespeare's heroine.[3]
[Footnote 1: W.G. Stone, Transactions of the New Shakspere Society, 1880-1886, pp. 277-293.]
[Footnote 2: P. 29. Compare the speech of Ganymede (Rosalynde) with
Rosalind's speech in "As You Like It," III, ii, 367-381.]
[Footnote 3: Compare "Rosalynde," pp. 63-64, with "As You Like It,"
IV, i, 80-93.]
Upon a careful study of "Rosalynde" one cannot avoid the conviction that in selecting it as the basis for "As You Like It" Shakespeare displayed a sound judgment. Not only is it a good story of its kind, but it lends itself readily to dramatic adaptation. In adapting it Shakespeare made of it something quite different and incalculably more valuable than the romance. Yet "Rosalynde" is still in its way charming, and an appreciation of its charm may, instead of lessening our reverence for Shakespeare's genius, really increase it by leading us to see as he did the freshness and beauty as well as the dramatic possibilities of the story.