The great Care in the Catastrophe is, that the clearing up of all Difficulties may appear wonderful, and yet easy, simple, and natural. What Cicero says of Friendship, is true of the Dramatic Fable, it is a Knot that must be untied, not cut: And in such a Manner, that tho' all admire the Event, yet, at the same Time, are sensible within themselves, that the Stream of Affairs could scarce have taken another Course. This, I confess, is a difficult Task; indeed nothing can be more so, than to raise our Astonishment from the regular Effects of Nature. There are, however, some Instances of this Art, that can never be enough admir'd; among the modern Writers especially, and no where more than among those of our own Country; who, in the Conduct and Design of the Drama, in my Opinion, leave the Ancients very far behind them.
Another Thing the Poet should take Care of is, to conceal the Event from the Audience till the Conclusion of the Play. The Reason of this is so plain, that I need not assign any. I cannot, therefore, but wonder at the preposterous Artifice of some Writers, who shew the Catastrophe of the Play, in the very Title of it. We have an English Tragedy, truly excellent in all other Respects, entitul'd, Venice Preserv'd; or the Plot discover'd. How much better would this have become the last Page, than the first? Here one may apply the Words of a late ingenious Poet of our own, tho' in a little different Sense[391]:
Vestibulum ante ipsum, primoque in limine, Finis Scribitur
Too soon, undoubtedly, for the Author's Reputation, is Venice preserv'd; too soon the Plot discover'd, for the Reader's Diversion.
To these three Parts of the Drama, Scaliger adds a fourth; viz. the Catastasis which he defines to be[392], The full Growth of the Fable, while Things are at a Stand in that Confusion to which the Poet has brought them. But I can't see how this differs from Epitasis, in which, according to his own Definition, all Things appear involv'd in Confusion, or Uncertainty.
What the Moderns call Incidents, are such Events as start up of a sudden in the Course of the Drama, that are concomitant to the main Design, and conduce to the bringing on the Catastrophe and yet are not of so great Moment as to constitute distinct, or even subordinate Actions. These are very serviceable in exciting Admiration; and the nicest Art is shewn in the proper Conduct of them to that Purpose.
There's one Fault, which both ancient and modern Writers are often guilty of, viz. of introducing entire Scenes, or the greatest Part of them, only that the Actors may have an Opportunity of making some fine Speeches, and the Authors of shewing their Wit; without contributing, in the least, to the main Business of the Drama: Whereas, in Truth, no Scene, of any Length, ought to be writ only for Decoration. There may, nay, must be many ornamental Parts; but no considerable one should be nothing else but Ornament. As, in Architecture, sumptuous Edifices are embellish'd with Entablatures, Relievo's, and Sculpture; but no Part of them, of any Bulk, or Weight, should be added, for nothing else but Embellishment. The Reason is, because the very Essence of Beauty consists in a genuine Simplicity; such as Nature shews in the wonderful System of the Universe.
Among the Moderns, the chief, almost the only Subject of Tragedy, as well as Comedy, is Love; not so with the Ancients, who seem, in this Particular, to have judg'd better than we do. For tho' it must be allow'd Love is the most prevailing Passion of human Nature, and the great Businesses of the World, both public and private, are chiefly govern'd by it; yet there are others, as Ambition, and Friendship, to name no more, which may either singly, or jointly, be the proper Subject of the Drama; tho' I own its Progress would be much facilitated, if predominant Love interven'd to accelerate the Springs of Action. This Passion, like the Primum Mobile in the ancient System, drives round the lesser Fires, as so many Stars, within its own Vortex; and is, therefore, by its active Power, far the most productive of Thoughts, Words, and Events; and the best adapted to excite Pleasure and Admiration. But, for that Reason, as it is an Attempt the most difficult, so is it the most noble, to please an Audience without this Ingredient, which both the Ancients and Moderns have sometimes very happily effected. All Terence's Comedies are upon the Subject of Love; not so those of Aristophanes: But, among the Moderns, I have not seen one without it. Tragedies there are many, absolutely free from it, especially ancient ones; as those of Sophocles, and Euripides, which are adapted to infuse Terror, rather than Compassion; and don't so much aim at appearing soft and delicate, as grand and magnificent. And among the Moderns, especially our Countrymen, we have the Tragedies of Sejanus, Catiline, and Julius Cæsar, to name no more, who all meet their Fate without any Love to hasten it. But the Poets of the present, and foregoing Age, are full of Love, not only in their Tragedies and Comedies, but in every other Composition: That of Terence, tho' in a different Sense, may be applied to each of them, amore abundas; they abound with Love, or rather run over with it. But more of this, perhaps, when we come to speak of Tragedy and Comedy distinctly.
To the same Place I must likewise postpone, what remains to be said of the Chorus of the Ancients, for this, as I once before hinted, they added over and above to the Protasis, Epitasis, and Catastrophe. I pass it over here, because it is not, like these I have now treated of, an essential Part of the Drama, and is totally laid aside by the Moderns, in my Opinion very deservedly. I shall, however, make some Observations upon it, in a proper Place, since it made a Part of the old Comedy, and was continu'd in all the Tragedies of the Ancients.
Nor shall I here draw a Comparison between the ancient dramatic Writers and the Moderns; this I shall attempt in the distinct Dissertations that are to follow. I would only observe, in a Word, that as we have more bad Plays than they, so have we more that are truly beautiful; they have fewer that deserve Censure, and fewer that merit Praise; they more correct, we strike out into brighter Excellencies.