Is there a unity of thought in this sonnet? Does the poet consistently allude to some one thing? Was Longfellow old or young when he wrote this? What does Longfellow represent himself to be? Why does he “set his back against the wall”? In these days of Mauser rifles would it do any good to set one’s back against the wall for protection against an approaching enemy? Was it ever an advantage? Who is the foe that follows him? How can Death be “but a phantom and a wraith” and at the same time follow the poet triumphantly? What do his weapons and his armor indicate as to what he represents himself? What is the “broken sword”? Who fight in tournaments? What is there appropriate in the word “tilt”? How can the one who is vanquished be victor still? Is the figure of medieval knighthood well sustained?
The earliest European dramas of which we have any record were the plays performed in ancient Greece five hundred years before Christ. There were very few characters introduced, sometimes only one or two, and a chorus was the most important part of the representation. This chorus served to fill the gaps in the action, to state what had preceded and at times even to comment upon the actors, to exhort or to praise or condemn their behavior. The Greek dramatists carefully followed the so-called rule of three unities: unity of time, whereby the action must be compressed into one day; unity of place, by which only one place must be represented; and unity of action, whereby the movement of the piece must be continuous, all the incidents be connected so as to form one main line of thought. The rule of three unities was followed very closely by the French dramatists up to comparatively recent times; but in England, beginning with the Elizabethan era, no restraint was placed upon dramatic technique except unity of action, which still remains essential.
During the Middle Ages the drama was represented by miracle and mystery plays dealing with sacred history. They differed in subject only. The miracle plays represented the lives of saints and their miraculous deeds; the mysteries, the mysterious doctrines of Christianity and various biblical events. During an age when preaching was unusual, the clergy reached the souls of their people by means of these rude plays which were at first given in churches; but later, when the town guilds and trade organizations began to present them, the stage was a traveling cart, roughly fitted up with rude scenery. Still later, before theaters were built, the wandering players acted in inn yards or courtyards. Female parts were always taken by boys, and it was not until after Shakespeare’s time that women appeared on the stage.
In the reign of Henry VI the mysteries were in part superseded by the morality plays, although the former did not wholly go out of style until the time of Elizabeth. The passion play given every ten years at Oberammergau, Bavaria, is a survival of the old mystery play. The moralities personified the virtues and vices common to man, and attempted to teach moral lessons by allegorical representations. When popular interest in these dramas began to lag, current topics were introduced into the dialogue, and characters from real life appeared on the stage for the first time. Early in the sixteenth century John Heywood invented a farcical composition called The Interlude to relieve the tiresome monotony of existing plays. But it was in 1540 that the first comedy appeared, and it is not too much to say that this play marks the beginning of modern English drama. Nicholas Udall, head master of Eton College, being accustomed to write Latin plays for his boys, concluded to try his hand at an English drama. The result was Ralph Royster Doyster, the first comedy. In 1562 Queen Elizabeth was entertained by the presentation of the first English tragedy, a play entitled Gorboduc, by Thomas Sackville.
During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries amateur dramatic productions called masques were presented. Sometimes even nobles and members of the royal family took part. These plays were accompanied by music, dancing, and spectacular effects. The literary character of the masque developed into the compositions of Ben Jonson, and culminated in Milton’s Comus. During the reign of Elizabeth the productions of Kyd, Peele, Greene, Marlowe, and Beaumont and Fletcher raised the drama to such a lofty plane that only the genius of a Shakespeare could surmount it.
There are two distinct classes of modern dramas—tragedies and comedies. In the former, events crowd irresistibly on to some terrible conclusion, usually resulting in the death of the principal characters. An atmosphere of gloom surrounds it, and the flashes of light serve but to intensify the general darkness. Even when the soul of the reader recognizes the justice of the end it rebels against the horrors of the situation. The deeper and darker passions predominate; love is swallowed up in hate and happiness drowned in grief. The comedy is in a lighter and happier vein; its situations may be trying but they end happily; the sun shines and the air is clear; if storms appear they are the showers of a summer day, not awful tempests. The comedy descends through various forms to the travesty and farce whose purpose is solely to excite laughter by ludicrous scenes and absurd incidents. The melodrama abounds in thrilling situations and extravagant efforts to excite emotions, but its final outcome is a happy one, and the villain is punished and virtue is comfortably rewarded.
Dramas may be written in prose or in poetic form. The tendency is toward prose in comedy and poetry in tragedy, though in the same play both prose and poetry are sometimes used. The most common form for the poetic composition is the unrhymed iambic pentameter or blank verse (heroic measure). Rhymes are in use but usually their purpose is definite and specific and they may occur occasionally in plays which are otherwise in blank verse. Lyrics are often introduced, and in them both rhyme and meter are varied at the pleasure of the author.
Journeys Through Bookland contains numerous illustrations of the facts of this chapter and plentiful examples of every form of literature except the sonnet, of which a type has just been given. The outline which follows will summarize this chapter and show a few of the examples that may be formed.
