UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO MARLOWE

305

Faustus of Marlow, and had, and have, no Dramatic works by me in English, except the recent things you sent me; but I heard Mr Lewis translate verbally some scenes of Goethe's Faust (which were some good, and some bad) last summer; which is all I know of the history of that magical personage;-and as to the germs of Manfred, they may be found in the Journal which I sent to Mrs Leigh (part of which you saw) when I went over first the Dent de Jamont [sic], and then the Wengeren [sic] or Wengeberg Alp and Sheideck and made the giro of the Jungfrau, Shreckhorn, etc., etc., shortly before I left Switzerland. I have the whole scene of Manfred before me, as if it was but yesterday, and could point it out, spot by spot, torrent and all.

Of the Prometheus of Eschylus I was passionately fond as a boy (it was one of the Greek plays we read thrice a year at Harrow); indeed that and the Medea were the only ones, except the Seven before Thebes, which ever much pleased me. As to the Faustus of Marlow, I never read, never saw, nor heard of it—at least, thought of it, except that I think Mr Gifford mentioned, in a note of his which you sent me, something about the catastrophe; but not as having any thing to do with mine, which may or may not resemble it, for any thing I know.

The Prometheus, if not exactly in my plan, has always been so much in my head, that I can easily conceive its influence over all or any thing that I have written; but I deny Marlow and his progeny, and beg that you will do the same.

(1817, October 12. Letter 675, to John Murray, Vol. IV., p. 173.)

U

I just see, by the papers of Galignani, that there is a new tragedy of great expectation, by Barry Cornwall of what I have read of his works I liked the Dramatic Sketches, but thought his Sicilican Story and Marcian Colonna, in rhyme, quite spoilt by I know not what affectation of Wordsworth, and Hunt, and Moore, and Myself, all mixed up into a kind of Chaos. I think him very likely to produce a good tragedy, if he keep to a natural style, and not play tricks to form Harlequinades for an audience. As he (B. C. is not his true name) was a school-fellow of mine, I take more than common interest in his success, and shall be glad to hear of it speedily. If I had been aware that he was in that line, I should have spoken of him in the preface to Marino] Faliero]: he will do a World's wonder if he produce a great tragedy. I am, however, persuaded, that this is not to be done by following the old dramatists, who are full of gross faults, pardoned only for the beauty of their language; but by writing naturally and regularly, and producing regular tragedies, like the Greeks; but not in imitation,-merely the outline of their conduct, adapted to our own times and circumstances, and of course no chorus.

You will laugh, and say, "Why don't you do so?" I have, you see, tried a Sketch in Marino Faliero; but many people think my talent "essentially undramatic," and I am not at all clear that they are not right. If Marino Faliero don't fall, in the perusal, I shall, perhaps, try again (but not for the Stage); and, as I think that love is not the principal passion for tragedy (and yet most of ours turn upon it), you will not find me a popular writer. Unless it

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is Love, furious, criminal, and hapless, it ought not to make a tragic subject: when it is melting and maudlin, it does, but it ought not to do; it is then for the Gallery and second price boxes.

If you want to have a notion of what I am trying, take up a a translation of any of the Greek tragedians. If I said the original, it would be an impudent presumption of mine; but the translations are so inferior to the originals, that I think I may risk it. Then judge of the "simplicity of plot, etc.," and do not judge me by your mad old dramatists, which is like drinking Usquebaugh and then proving a fountain: yet after all, I suppose that you do not mean that spirits is a nobler element than a clear spring babbling in the sun; and this I take to be the difference between the Greeks and those turbid mountebanks always excepting B. Jonson, who was a Scholar and a Classic. Or, take up a translation of Alfieri, and try the interest, etc., of these my new attempts in the old line, by him in English. And then tell me fairly your opinion. But don't measure me by YOUR OWN old or new tailor's yards. Nothing so easy as intricate confusion of plot, and rant. Mrs Centlivre, in comedy, has ten times the bustle of Congreve; but are they to be compared? and yet she drove Congreve from the theatre.

(1821, January 4. Letter 859, to John

Murray, Vol. V., p. 217.)

You say The Doge will not be popular: did I ever write for popularity? I defy you to show a work of mine (except a tale or two) of a popular style or complexion. It appears to me that there is room for

a different style of the drama; neither a servile following of the old drama, which is a grossly erroneous one, nor yet too French, like those who succeeded the older writers. It appears to me, that good English, and a severer approach to the rules, might combine something not dishonorable to our literature. I have also attempted to make a play without love. And there are neither rings, nor mistakes, nor starts, nor outrageous ranting villains, nor melodrame, in it. All this will prevent its popularity, but does not persuade me that it is therefore faulty. Whatever faults it has will arise from deficiency in the conduct, rather than in the conception, which is simple and severe.

(1821, February 16. Letter 872, to John Murray, Vol. V., p. 243.)

I read Cenci-but, besides that I think the subject essentially undramatic, I am not an admirer of our old dramatists as models. I deny that the English have hitherto had a drama at all.

(1821, April 26. Letter 883, to Percy Bysshe Shelley, Vol. V., p. 268.)

I trust that Sardanapalus will not be mistaken for a political play, which was so far from my intention, that I thought of nothing but Asiatic history. The Venetian play, too, is rigidly historical. My object has been to dramatise, like the Greeks (a modest phrase!) striking passages of history, as they did of history and mythology. You will find all this very unlike Shakespeare; and so much the better in one

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sense, for I look upon him to be the worst of models, though the most extraordinary of writers. It has been my object to be as simple and severe as Alfieri, and I have broken down the poetry as nearly as I could to common language.

(1821, July 14. Letter 911, to John Murray,

Vol. V., p. 323.)

Your friend, like the public, is not aware, that my dramatic simplicity is studiously Greek, and must continue so: no reform ever succeeded at first. I admire the old English dramatists; but this is quite another field, and has nothing to do with theirs. I want to make a regular English drama, no matter whether for the Stage or not, which is not my object,but a mental theatre.

(1821, August 23. Letter 922, to John Murray, Vol. V., p. 347.)

I am much mortified that Gifford don't take to my new dramas: to be sure, they are as opposite to the English drama as one thing can be to another; but I have a notion that, if understood, they will in time find favour (though not on the stage) with the reader. The Simplicity of plot is intentional, and the avoidance of rant also, as also the compression of the Speeches in the more severe situations. What I seek to show in The Foscaris is the suppressed passion, rather than the rant of the present day. For that matter

"Nay, if thou'lt mouth,

I'll rant as well as thou'

would not be difficult, as I think I have shown in my