CORNELL UNIVEKSITY LIBRARY ENGLISH COLLECTION THE ClIFT OF JAMES MORGAN HART PROFESSOR OF ENGUSH Cornell University Library PN 2589.A67 3 1924 026 121 214 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026121214 RECENT NAPOLEONIC LITERATURE 441 was not twenty-three when his brother made him king of Westphalia — than he is, in ' The Grand Duchy of Berg,' on Caroline Murat, whose morals were not much better than those of her young brother. "With regard to his criticisms of Jerome's 'baseness' to Miss Paterson, Jerome was only a boy when he contracted his illegal marriage in America, and in consenting to its annulment he was only aping the ways of ruling families more ancient than the Bonapartes. We wonder if the author is aware that it was at the Pavilion at Brighton, in the town of Mrs Fitzherbert, that English society showed its sympathy for the basely treated ' Mrs Pater- son, late Madame Jerome Bonaparte,' who danced in the royal quadrille at Princess Charlotte's birthday party. A point of more legitimate historical interest, which might have been mentioned in connexion with Jerome being made a king and his consequent marriage with Princess Catherine of Wiirtemberg, is that, after the death of Princess Charlotte, the issue of the ex-king and queen of Westphalia would have been close to the succession to the British Crown, had the belated marriages of George Ill's sons proved barren — Catherine being grand- daughter of Augusta, elder daughter of Frederick, Prince of Wales. Our space does not permit us to do more than mention the book which stands last on our list, 'Napoleon k Bayonne.' It is a detailed account from local chronicles, most of which had never seen the light before, of Napoleon's sojourn at Bayonne, where he arrived on April 14, 1808, and took up his quarters at the Chateau de Marrac, which he did not leave until he had sent thence the Spanish royal family into exile at Valen^ay, and had placed Joseph on their throne. This most interesting narrative of the turning-point of .Napoleon's career, to which his eventual downfall may be traced, is the work of a writer little known to fame even in his native land. M. Dac^r6, the sub-librarian of the city of Bayonne, is an example of those modest functionaries, often found in 'the French provinces, who, with great industry and literary skill supply historians with material of the highest value without reaping any public reward for their services. ( Art. VIII.— THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE. 1. Die Shakespeare-Buhne nach den alien Buhnenanweis- ungen. Von Dr Cecil Brodmeier. V^eimar : Buchmann, 1904. 2. Prolegomena zu einer Darstellung der englischen Volks- biihne zur Elisabeth^ und Stuart-Zeit. Von Dr Paul Monkemeyer. Hannover und Leipzig : Hahn'sche Buch- handlung, 1905. 3. Die Buhneneinrielitung des Shakespeareschen Theaters nach den zeitgenossischen Dravien. Von Dr Richara Wegener. Halle : Niemeyer, 1907. 4. Smne Principles of Elizabethan Staging : a Dissertation submitted to the Graduate School of Arts and Literature. By George F. Reynolds. Chicago : The University of Chicago Press, 1905. 5. The Development of Shakespeare as a Dramatist. By George Pierce Baker, Professor of English in Harvard University. London and New York : Macmillan, 1907. 6. The Stage of the Globe. By E. K. Chambers. (Appendix to vol. X of 'The Works of William Shakespeare.') Stratford-on-Avon : The Shakespeare Head Press, 1904. One of the main tendencies of modern thought has been to emphasise the intimate relationship between an organism and its environment, and the impossibility of thoroughly understanding the one apart from the other. In the field of literature, the drama is so manifestly and peculiarly a product of social conditions that the criticism which considered Shakespeare as a sort of isolated niiracle has long ago been discredited and abandoned. No one now denies that the Elizabethan drama must be seen in its true perspective, as a part of English history, before its meaning and value can be properly estimated. But in the case of drama, as distinct from other forms of literature, there is a material as well as an intellectual and social environment to be taken into account. A play is destined for performance in a theatre, and a practical playwright can no more disregard the actual structure of hia stage than a composer can disregard the range and quality of the instrument for which he is writing. There are innumerable cases in which, if we want to grasp a THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 443 dramatist's reason for doing thus, or thus, and not oth^r- wifeie, we must recall in imagination the actual mechanism of performance which he had in view. Hence the keen interest which scholars have tal^en in investigating the true structure of the Attic theatre in the fifth century, which has been obscured by the facile acceptance of unauthoritative traditions, and by deductions from archi- teOtttral remains of a later period. But our knowledge, of the Greek theatre is not a whit more imperfect than our knowledge of the English theatre before the Civil War. The theatrical manners and customs of the period have -been to some extent studied, and imaginative his- torians, founding on passages from prologues, espilqgues, • inductions,' and pamphlets, have drawn animated . pic- tures of the typical Elizabethan audience. But, what- ever the value of these pictures, they deal with social, not with technical, conditions — with the environment ' in front of the house,' as we should nowadays put it. Of the structure of the stage and the actual mechanism of presentation, little is known with any approach to , certainty. The need for such knowledge, however, is now vividly realised in many quarters. Investigations are being made, points of controversy are being minutely scrutinised, and it is not unreasonable to hope that a thorough sifting of the evidence may before long enable us to reconstruct the main outlines of the Eliza|jethan stage, even if certain details must always remain obscure. The need for thorough investigation has been brought home to us, not only from the literary, but from the theatrical side. The modem 'Shakespearean revival,' with its gorgeous scenery, its spectacular^ interludes, and, in many cases, its ruthless mangling pf the text, is evidently quite unlike anything foreseen or intended by Shakespeare. The question whether, if he could have foreseen, he would have approved, need not be here dis- cussed. One may hold that he would not entirely have disapproved, and may yet sympathise with those who wish to see his plays performed, occasionally at any rate, under stage conditions more nearly approaching those which he must have had in his mind's eye. From this desire various artistic enterprises have taken rise. We have had in England the meritorious Elizabethian Stage Society, directed for many years by Mr William Poel. 444 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE Several American universities have made efforts in the same direction, and one or two German theatres, notably the Court Theatre at Munich, have given numerous per- formances on what they call a ' Shakespeare-Biihne.' But there has been a striking lack of unanimity as to the precise characteristics of the ' Shakespeare-Biihne ' ; and the English performances, at any rate, were arranged with an arbitrariness, often bordering on eccentricity, which greatly impaired their value as serious reconstruc- tive endeavours. All these experiments, in fact, have proved little or nothing, except the urgent need for that systematic examination of all the data of the case which cannot now be long delayed. Partial and provisional efforts in this direction have already been made, and we propose to pass in review some of the more recent studies of the subject. All except one brief essay are of German or American origin. In England, investigation has not got much beyond the point at which Collier and Halliwell-Phillipps left it. Mr E. K, Chambers' admirable work on ' The Mediaeval Stage ' stops short, as its title imports, on the threshold of the Renaissance. The one English essay that stands on our list * comes also from the pen of Mr Chambers, and appears among the appendices to the Stratford-on-Avon Shakespeare. It runs to no more than ten pages ; and in such a space it is impossible to go very deep into this complicated enquiry. Mr Chambers may be said rather to summarise its difficulties than to offer any solution of them. His criticisms of certain German and American theories are very acute ; but his attempt to argue away the pillars which are commonly conceived to have supported the ' shadow ' or half -roof over the stage of the ' public ' theatres strikes us as more daring than successful. His exposition of the probability of a wide divergence in the arrangements of different theatres seems, on the face of it, convincing; but the tendency of investigation is to rebut this initial proba- bility, and to encourage the belief that the great majority of dramatists, in constructing their pieces, kept in view a normal or typical stage. There are exceptions, especi- • Mention should be made, however, of several learned and valuable papers contributed (in English) to the German periodicals 'Anglla' and ' Englisehe Studien," by Mr W. J. Lawrence, of Dublin. THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 445 ally in plays written for the ' Children of Paul's,' but they are not more than sufficient to prove the rule. Among the German studies, Dr Paul Mdnkemeyer's dissertation, though not the first in order of time, may conveniently be treated first. It is quite rightly entitled, ' Prolegomena zu einer Darstellung der englischen Volks- biihne.' It consists of three chapters, preliminary to a larger work which the author has in hand. The first deals with «The stage of the English popular drama before the erection of permanent theatres in London (1576).' It is, in fiact, a careful survey of the transition from the medieval mystery-stage to the stage of Shake- speare's immediate predecessors. This is an essential part of any thoroUgh-going enquiry, and Dr Monkemeyer's treatment of it is very intelligent and suggestive. The second and third chapters consist of a general examination of the material with which the student has to deal, and consideration of its evidential value. Much that the author has to say on this point is sufficiently obvious, and yet has been very commonly overlooked. He insists, for example, on the fact that plays acted only at Court, or at one of the universities, cannot be cited in evidence of the practices of the regular theatres. Malone'sf undamental error in believ- ing that the Elizabethan stage, like the modern stage, could be shut off by a front curtain, arose from his neglect of this obvious principle. He based his belief mainly on the line, 'Now draw the curtaines for our scene is done,' which occurs at the end of • Tancred and Gismunda '—a play never acted (it would seem) by professional players, but presented by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple before Queen Elizabeth in 1568. It is clear that from such a play as this no deductions are to be drawn with reference to the common * stage. A more difficult ques- tion arises in the case of certain plays as to which our information is insufficient. For instance, Dr Monkemeyer would reject 'The Divil's Charter,' by Barnabe Barnes, which was published in 1607, ' As it was plaide before the King's Majestie, upon Candlemasse night last : by his Majesties Servants. But more exactly renewed, corrected and augmented since by the Author, for the more pleasure * We say 'common' rather than 'public' stage, for the latter term involves an ambiguity in this context, and should be resei'ved for the 'public' or unroofed as distinct from the ' private ' or covered theatres. 448 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE and profit of the Reader.' Clearly the evidence of such a play is to be accepted with caution; but we think Dr Monkemeyer would be wrong to disregard it entirely. It is incredible that the actors should have reserved this lurid melodrama for the Court alone ; and the author s revision probably consisted in elaborating the dialogue rather than in altering or adding to the ' business.' In writing the stage-directions, which are unusually full, Barnes certainly had actual performance in his minds eye; and his directions in nowise conflict with the general mass of evidence as to the possibilities and practices of the common stage. On the whole, we should be inclined to rank as admissible evidence any play by a dramatist of experience which was certainly written with a view to theatrical performance, and not solely as a Court entertainment. This principle would apply, for example, to Shirley's ' St Patrick for Ireland,' which Monkemeyer would apparently reject on the ground that it is not known to have been acted elsewhere than in Dublin. If the stage-directions in such a play flagrantly contradicted our other evidence, we should no doubt be justified in rejecting them ; but when no such contradic- tion occurs we may legitimately assume that the play- wright had in view the general type of theatre to which he was accustomed. The more one reads of the Eliza- bethan drama with a view to reconstructing its material mechanism, the more is one conscious of a certain ' standardisation ' of effects. Dr Monkeraeyer's third chapter deals with the ' Origin of the stage directions in the genuine popular plays,' as distinct from Court plays. He begins by insisting on a very elementary fact : namely, that the stage directions in modern editions are, for the purposes of this investi- gation, absolutely worthless. They are (for the most part) the interpolations of editors whose sole aim was to smooth the way for the general reader, and who, so far as they visualised the scenes at all, did so in terms of the modem theatre. Dr Monkemeyer might have stated more strongly than he does the necessity for entirely banishing the modem edition from our ken. Recent editors, it is trae, have generally realised the importance of distinguishing between the original stage directions and those which have been supplied hy them- THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 447 selves or their predecessors. But* even when printed within brackets, a modern stage direction tends to warp the student's vision. This, is especially the case with re- gard to the place indications which it, is now the custom to prefix to every scene. It is the beginning of wisdom, in this enquiry, to realise that scarcely any of these occur in the original texts, and probably not one in the accus- tomed modern foym. Rarely do we even find such a direction as 'Enter Brutus in his Orchard,' or 'Enter the King, Exeter, Bedford, and Grloucester. Alarum : Scaling ladders at Harfleur.' As a rule, indeed, the locality may be more or less clearly dieduced fromjthe dialogue, but the exceptions to this rule are innumerable. The reader who is accustomed only to modern editions would be amazed to learn how many passages in the Elizabethan drama are entirely unlocalised — so much so that it is impossible even to say whether they, are 'in- teriors ' or ' exteriors.' Such passages are perhaps more frequent in the minor dramatists, but even in Shakespeare they are common enough.: Nor are scenes uncommon; jn which absolute inconsistencies of locality occur. A simple instance may be found in ' Othello,' iii, 4, and iy>; !• Modern editors, with;cauti,ous vagueness, place, these scenes 'Be- fore the Castle '—judging, no doubt, that the casual entrances of ' Bianca, a Gurtezan ' imply some sort of public locality. This is quite true ; but in what public locality can we possibly place the private and intensely painful tl-ansactions between Othello and Desdempp,a which occur in both scenes? These things baffle imag- ination if we conceive them as happening on the open esplanade. They imply a chamber in the castle, or, at the very utmost, a private garden ; but how account for Bianca's intrusion into either of these places ? The prob- lem ^s insoluble from the point of view of the modern audience, accustomed always to have a definite scene before its eyes ; whereas Shakespeare's audiences, fresh from the moralities and interludes, with their abstract or ideal scenes, were probably unconscious of any diffi- culty. The category of place imposed itself but faintly and intermittently on the mind of the Elizabethan play- goer : a fact which the believers in the habitual indication of scenes by placards, and even by painted cloths, would do weU to note. Here, no doubt, we are trenching on 448 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE / debatable ground ; but we do so deliberately. We believe the vagueness of localisation of the Elizabethan drama to be a fundamental fact which cannot be fully reahsed until the student has dismissed modem editions from his mind, and gone back to the original texts. For the rest, Dr Monkemeyer distinguishes with great acuteness between four classes of stage directions: those which must have proceeded from the author himself; those in which the hand of the stage-manager or prompter is apparent; those which must have been inserted by printer-editors for the better understanding of readers ; and those which clearly proceed from stenographers noting the ' business ' as they saw it while taking their surreptitious copies. This last class, by the way, is some- times so valuable as evidence, that one is inclined to think leniently of the dishonest practice to which we owe it. Some passages in Dr Monkemeyer's book seem to indicate a conception of the typical Elizabethan stage which we believe to be untenable ; but as he is confessedly only at the outset of his investigation, criticism would be premature. Dr Cecil Brodmeier's book on ' Die Shakespeare-Biihne ' claims no such suspension of judgment. Here w^e have an attempt to expound the stage-management of all Shakespeare's plays in the light of a hard-and-fast theory s^ — a theory which seems to be largely accepted in Germany, S,nd has found able adherents in America. Wherever it may have originated, Dr Brodmeier is certainly its most conspicuous champion. It is known as the theory of • alternation ' ; and as our whole vision of the Elizabethan stage is determined by our acceptance or rejection of it, an endeavour must be made to state it fully and clearly. Playgoers whose memory carries them back twenty years or so can recall a general practice, in plays requiring frequent changes of scene, of alternating what were called ' front ' or • carpenter ' scenes with full ' sets.' Thus, in ' Othello,' the curtain would first rise on a moderately deep scene representing the exterior of Brabantio's house. Then a painted ' cloth ' would be let down in front of this (or two ' flats ' would be shoved on), representing a street in Venice ; and on the shallow space between this ' cloth ' and the footlights the first encounter between Othello and Brabantio would take place. This over, the ' cloth ' THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 449 would be raised, or the ' flats ' withdrawn, and it would be found that Brabantio's house had been cleared away, and the whole depth of the stage called into requisition for a 'set' representing the Venetian Senate chamber. This practice has fallen into seeming disuse ; but it is in truth only disguised by the fact that managers generally drop a curtain, or plunge the stage in darkness, while the scene is being changed. The principle of employing the time occupied by comparatively shallow scenes for the setting of deep scenes remains in force wherever several changes of place within a single act are necessary. Now the ' alternation ' theory would throw back this pi'actice to Elizabethan times, with the substitution of a ' middle curtain ' for the ' cloths ' or ' flats ' of twenty years ago. The dramatists, we are told, habitually arranged that a scene requiring the whole stage should be followed by a scene requiring only the shallow front portion of the stage ; and while this scene was in progress in front of the ' middle curtain,' stage-hands were arranging behind it such properties as might be required for the next scene, if not actually setting out painted- ' hangings ' (kquUasenr artige Behange) somewhat in the nature of modern scenery. That there is a certain initial plausibility in this theory (except in so far as the painted hangings are concerned) cannot be denied. We do frequently find, especially in Shakespeare, that short scenes requiring comparatively few actors are inserted between longer scenes requiring many performers, and sometimes more or less elaborate properties. Moreover, there would seem to be a manifest convenience in being able to indicate a change of place (as well as a possible lapse of time) by some such simple device as the opening or closing of a pair of curtains.* That the theoiy should have arisen is not in the least surprising ; but we do not believe that it will bear examination. The • altemationists ' all start from the famous De Witt drawing of the Swan Theatre (reproduced facing p. 450), though they are very soon forced to run counter to its authority. It is necessary, then, that we should briefly consider the credentials of this much-discussed document • It is admitted on all hands that whatever curtains were employed on the Elizabethan stage were not raised and lowered like most modem curtains, but wei'e drawn aside— as a rule!, no doubt, parting in the middle. 450 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE — our only graphic presentment of the interior of a ' public ' or unroofed theatre. It was discovered in 1888 by a German scholar, Dr Karl Gaedertz, in a manuscript volume in the University Library at Utrecht. The volume is a sort of common- place-book, kept by one Arend van Buchell (b. 1565, d. 1641). Van BucheU had a friend, Johannes de Witt, who was a noted traveller. De Witt seems to have sent him a letter describing his 'London observations' and including a sketch of the Swan Theatre, which Van Buchell copied into his commonplace-book. The drawing, as we have it, cannot be De Witt's original, for it is on exactly the same paper as the rest of the book. Thus it has not the authority of a sketch taken actually on the spot ; nor can we tell whether the original from which it was copied was drawn on the spot, or merely from memory. On the other hand, there seems to be no suspicion of forgery in the matter. No expert has thrown doubt on the assumption that the drawing dates from the late sixteenth or early seventeenth , century. Some of its features may be accepted without question as being very much what other evidence would lead us to expect. We know, for instance, that most of. the public theatres were round or octagonal in shape, the Fortune Theatre being the only certain exception. Again, almost aill the representations of the Bankside theatres in the old panoramic maps show from the outside that hutch or turret rising over the roof which we see from the inside in the De Witt drawing. It was here, no doubt, that the trumpeter (sketched by De Witt) blew the three blasts which announced the opening of a performance. The half roof or ' shadow 'over the stage is mentioned in two building-contracts which we possess. In the Fortune it was probably supported by pillars, as in the Swan sketch ; but in the Hope contract it is stipulated that no pillars shall be required for its support. The pro- jection of the stage into the ' yard ' is very similar to that provided for in the Fortune contract. The two doors are mentioned in innumerable stage-directions. ! And, finally, we know that there must have been at the back of the stage some such gallery as is shown in the drawing. It was used by the actors for battlements a ■q ■ . Sb© a a §■ Si2i! . a5 tO) o p. J W S &I E ^ ^ S3* a^£S M O t) S c3 B Q :S stairs t of the ntrano cting p separa n betw n theE m piral oors de E onne illars urtai rap i rt tc n « " ft o B ^ contemporary with 'Alphonsus' is ' Dido, Queen of Carthage,' by Marlowe and Nash, in which we find a very curious instance of the use of the Hear Stage. It is true that this play was acted by the Chapel children, and that we do not know it to have been presented at a regular theatre. None the less does it provide valid evidence of the iise which dramatists habitually made of a curtained recess. Near the end of the second act, JBneas, Achates, Ascanius, Dido, Anna, and others, are on the stage. Then we have the direc- tion, 'Exeunt omnes. Enter Venus at another doore, and takes Ascanius by the sleeve.' This means that, vinobserved by the others, she detains the child. Then she coaxirigly takes him in her arms and lulls him to sleep with a song. This done, she says, ' Sleep, my sweet nephew, in these cooling shades. . . . AH shall be still. And nothing interrupt thy quiet sleep, TiU I return and take thee hence again.' Then she ' Exit,' evidently leaving Ascanius sleeping in some place which can be curtained off ; for there follows a long scene of many persons (including Cupid disguised as Ascanius), during which the sleeping child is unseen ; the locality, indeed, being supposed to change to Dido's palace. At the close of this scene, 'Exeunt,' and 'Enter Juno to Ascanius asleep.' This evidently means that at Juno's entrance the curtains are opened, disclosing Ascanius lying where Venus left him. Venus herself presently appears, and she, and Juno, after roundly abusing each other, come to an amicable understanding, Ascanius all the time sleeping peacefully. At the end of the scene, Venus says, « Mean- time. Ascanius shall be my charge. Whom I will bear to Ida in mine arms, And couch him in Adonis' purple down.' • Exeunt.' Now, why should Venus carry off the sleeping child, iwho is quite comfortable where he is? The next scene but one gives us the reason. It opens with the direction, 'The storm. Enter iEneas and Dido in the 464 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE cave, at several times.' In other words, the rear stage being required for the fateful cave, Ascanius could no longer occupy it. At the end of the scene the direction is ' Exeunt to the cave ' ; which doubtless means that they did not play the whole scene on the Rear Stage, but, having come forward in the course of their colloquy, returned at its close to the Rear Stage, and there made their exit, instead of going off by one of the two doors. A cave was one of the places constantly figured by the Rear Stage, others being a study, cell, tomb, shop, counting- house, tent, prison, and bedchamber. Let us now turn to Marlowe's ' Tamburlaine the Great,' acted, probably, in 1587. Here, in the second part, we have the stage direction : ' Actus I [a misprint ; it is in reality Act ii]. ScaBna ultima. The arras is drawn and Zenocrate lies in her bed of state. Tamburlaine sitting by her ; three Physicians about her bed, tempering potions; Theridamas, Techelles, TJsumcasane, and the three sons.' Prof. Baker, of Harvard, whose interesting book on ' The Development of Shakespeare as a Dramatist ' con- tains a very well-informed chapter on ' The Stage of Shakespeare,' argues that this direction ' demands a large space,' and that the passage which follows, ' to bfe well seen, must have been given in the space under the " Heavens " ' — another term for the ' shadow.' It is diffi- cult, indeed, to conceive that the ten persons enumerated were all grouped about Zenocrate's bed, and remained there throughout the scene. But Prof. Baker does not notice that only four of the characters (Tamburlaine and the three physicians) are stated to have been ' about the bed,' or, in other words, to have formed part of the tableau revealed by the opening of the arras. The other six may quite well have entered by the doors on either side and grouped themselves round the opening of the Rear Stage. Again, even supposing that all ten were disclosed when the arras was drawn, those not immedi- ately concerned about the dying woman would quite naturally spread outwards, and thus relieve the awkward congestion of the Rear Stage. And here we come upon a very important principle which, so far as we know, has not hitherto been stated. One of the main arguments THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 465 against the 'middle curtain' is that it is never used to close upon a tableau, or to save any character, living or dead, from the necessity of walking or being carried off the stage. 'But,' it may be said, 'since you admit that characters could be "discovered" by the opening of the curtains in front of the Bear Stage, why should they not have been concealed from view by the closing of the same curtains ? Would not your argument in disproof of the "naiddle curtain" equally disprove the Rear Stage cur- tains ? ' A little thought will show the way out of this dilemma. It is always easy on the stage for the charac- ters to advance and scatter, difficult for them to retire and cluster together. More briefly, centrifugal motion seems natural, centripetal more or less artificial. A group of characters revealed on the Rear Stage could very easily come forward ; but it would have . been very difficult and ludicrous for them all to retreat to it, and form a tableau upon which the curtains should close; and still more ludicrous would it have been for every one who was about to die to make his or her way to the very back of the stage before consenting to give up the ghost. This principle makes it clear why the Rear Stage curtains could be much more freely used for dis- closing than for concealing anything in the nature of a tableau. Nevertheless, where there was a definite reason for the characters retiring to the Rear Stage, they some- times did so, and the curtains were drawn upon them. When j^Eneas and Dido, for instance, went off 'to the cave,' it was manifestly desirable that the curtains should close ; and in this ' Tamburlaine ' scene, where Zenocrate's bed afforded a point round which the characters would quite naturally gather, the stage direction at the end is not ' Exeunt,' but ' The arras is drawn.' Indeed, it is one of the strongest arguments for the Rear Stage that, in the infrequent cases in which explicit directions are not given for the removal of dead bodies, we have almost always independent reason for believing that they were in this inner recess, where the curtain, arras, or traverse could be closed upon them.* * In the sentence above quoted from Professor Baker, he puts his finger on the only real diffloulfcy of the Bear Stage theory, namely, that it is hard to conceive the main portion of so important a scene as the death of Zenocrate acted at the very back of the stage. Dr Wegener suggests 466 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGfe Frequent and convincing evidences of the Rear Stag are to be found in Shakespeare. We select froni an^^^S them one of the most curious : the passage m ' ^°™® and Juliet,' which appears in modem editions as Act iv, Sc. 3-5. Here Dr Brodmeier goes more than usuaUy tar astray. He wiU have it that Juliet delivered her great potion soUloquy on the Upper Stage-an idea unthmkable to any one who can for a moment visualise the scene. But it is not only unthinkable : it is put definitely out ot court by a document which Dr Brodmeier seems to have overlooked— the first Quarto of 1597. The execrable text of this Quarto is generally admitted to be stenographic, so that the stage-directions doubtless proceed from a shorthand-writer who was present (probably several times) at the performance. At the end of the potion soliloquy— 'Romeo, I come, this doe I drinke to thee '—the stage direction is, « She f als upon her bed within the Curtaines.' Then, ' Enter Nurse with hearbs, Mother ... Enter Oldeman [Oapulet] . . . Enter Servingman with Logs and Coales.' Presently the Nurse and Capulet are left alone, when Oapulet, hearing the approach of Paris with his ' musicke,' says, ' Nurse, call up my daughter.' The Nurse replies, 'Goe, get you gone. What lambe, what Ladybirde? fast, I warrant'— and so on for five lines, during which she evidently does not open the curtains. She does so, however, at the line, ' Nay then I see I must wake you indeed. What's heere, laid on your bed, drest in your cloathes and down, ah me, alack the day, some Aqua vitse, hoe.' At her outcries, ' Enter Mother . . . Enter Oldeman . . . Enter Fryer and Paris . . , All at once cry out and wring their hands.' It is evident from the dialogue that they come close up to the bed ; and when their lamentations are over, ' They all but the Nurse goe foorth, casting Rosemary on her and shutting (p. 58), and the idea had independently occurred to u'sv that there may have been on the Bear Stage a low platform on wheels which could easUy be run out and run in again. On this platform (analogous to the ekkyklemaot the Greeks) Zenocrate's bed might have been placed, and the main part of the scene thus brought further forward. The chief objection to this theory is that, had the platform been an established institution, we might have expected to find some explicit allusion to it. We are not aware of any such allusion ; yet the not uncommon stage direction, ' A bed thrust forth ' (or words to that effect), seems almost necessarily to imply some contrivance of hfe sort. THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 467 the Curtens.' Then ' Enter Miisitions,' the Nurse dismisses them, and ' Exit ' ; and the scene ends with chatter between the Servingman and the musicians. What can be clearer than this whole -proceeding? What more manifest than that the curtains alluded to are not middle and lateral curtains ? The passage, indeed, is an instance of vagueness of place, the main stage serving alternately for Juliet's bedroom and for a public room, hall, or corridor ; but this is quite in the normal order of things. For a final and, to our thinking, absolutely conclusive proof of the Rear Stage, we turn to Webster's ' Duchess of Malfy,' which dates from about 1612, q,n^ was ' Presented privatly at the Black-Friers, and publiquely at the Globe; By the King's Majesties Servants.' We all know the scene, so much extolled by Lamb, in which Bosola and his executioners strangle the Duchess. As soon as. they have done so Bosola says, ' Where's the waiting^woman ? Fetch her: Some other strangle the children.' Then follows, in Dyce's edition, the stage-direction, ' Cariola and the children are brought in by the executioners, who presently strangle the children.' But there is no such direction in the quartos ; and we are glad to be able to clear Webster's memory (sufficiently blood-stained at best) of the atrocity of strangling the children on the open stage. It is absolutely certain, on a close inspection of the text, that Dyce, not understanding the construc- tion of the stage, misread the passage. The quartos give no stage direction at all at this place ; but we know that Cariola is brought on, because Bosola's next words are, ' Looke you, there sleepes your mistris,' and he exchanges half a dozen speeches with the waiting- woman before she is strangled. When that is done, Bosola says to the execu- tioners, ' Beare her in to th' next roome : Let this lie still.' Possessed by the idea that the children were on the stage, Dyce substituted ' these ' for 'this ' ; but the reading of the quartos is certainly the right one : Bosola is referring to the Duchess alone. Ferdinand immediately enters, saying, 'Is she dead?' Bosola replies, 'Shee is what you'U'd have her : But here begin your pitty ' ; and then comes the stage-direction, ' Shewes the children strangled.' It is perfectly evident that the children have not hitherto been visible, and that Bosola here raises for 9, moment the curtain of some recess and shows them 468 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE lying dead. If the reader has any doubts let him note this further fact: after Ferdinand has gone off the Duchess revives for a moment, and then definitely dies ; whereupon Bosola, soliloquising over her corpse, says, ' Come, I'll beare thee hence And execute thy last will ; that's deliver Thy body to the reverend dispose Of some good women.' The stage had to be cleared ; the Duchess's body could not be left lying about; so Bosola had to carry it off. But no provision is made for removing the children— and why ? Simply because they are not, and never were, on the open stage, but in some curtained recess. Nor can there be any reasonable doubt that this recess was what we have called the Rear Stage. It could not have been anything temporarily constructed for the purpose, for in that case how were the children to be conveyed into it and away again unseen ? Still less is it credible that the long and crowded scene was acted in front of a 'middle curtain,' the whole space behind it being reserved for the momentary exhibition of the bodies of two children. Observe, now, that this play is stated, with unusual circumstance and emphasis, to have been played at both a ' public ' and a ' private ' theatre. Observe, too, that the very absence of definite and explicit stage-directions tends to show that the author relied upon a well-established, clearly-understood form of stage, in view of which his intentions needed no elaborate exposition. Bearing these facts in mind, together with the fact that few indeed are the plays of the period which do not presuppose the existence of some such recess, we surely cannot resist the conclusion that a Rear Stage, which could be curtained off without impeding the view of the two main entrance- doors, was an indispensable feature of the normal Elizabethan playhouse. It is now time that we should describe in general outline what we conceive to have been the structure of the typical stage,* which Shakespeare and his contem- poraries seem almost always to have had in view. We know from the Fortune contract that the stage extended • We have chiefly in view the stage of the public or unroofed theatres. These theatres, being by many years the first erected, would establish the type ; and we find no clear evidence of any marked structural difference between the stage of the public and that of the private houses. THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE to the • middle ' of the ' yard ' or pit, and was protected from the weather by a 'shadow.' That two doors,* visible to the audience, formed the chief means of entrance and exit, is beyond dispute ; in so far the Swan drawing is borne out. But it is equally beyond dispute that there must have been other means of access to the stage; and here the Swan drawing entirely fails us. Apart from innumerable passages in which more than two means of egress and regress are imperatively demanded, the evidence of the commonest stage-direc- tions speaks for more than two doors. Out of 43 cases, taken at random, in which doors are mentioned, we find that in 11 cases the wording runs, ' at one door ... at the other door,' in 21 cases, 'at one door ... at an other door,' and in 11 cases, 'at several doors,' As 'several' in this phrase means simply ' different,' it carries no implica- tion as to the number of the doors. On the other hand, ' one . . . the other ' implies two only, while ' one . . . an other ' implies more than two ; and of this the plain interpretation surely is that there were, as a matter of fact, three or more doors, but that two were so prominent and so plainly formed a complementary pair that when the playright or stage manager had them especially in mind, he used the definite article, while he used the indefinite article to imply * any convenient door.' It cannot be maintained, by the way, that the different forms of expression point to different theatres, some having two doors only and others more than two ; for ' one . . . the other ' and ' one ... an other ' are not infrequently to be found in the same play. Where, then, are we to place the third f (and ■ the possible fourth and even fifth) * The doors mentioned in innumerable stage-directions rmist be con- ceived as visible. A playwright states the point at which an actor is to appear to the audience ; he does not lay down the route behind the scenes by which he is to reach that point. It does not follow, of course, that the doors could never be concealed from the audience, though we hold that the evidence points to this conclusion. t Mr 6. P. Eeynolds, on p. 7 of his excellent treatise, has assembled a large number of stage-directions in which three entrances are explicitly referred to. For in.stance, 'Enter three in blacke clokes at three doors' (' Four Prentices of London ') ; ' Enter Joculo, Frisco, and Mopso at three severall doores' (' Maid's Metamorphosis '). An often-quoted example occurs at the beginning of ' Eastward Hoe ' : ' Enter Maister Touch-stone and Quick-silver at Severall dores. ... At the middle dore, Enter Golding discovering a Gold-smith's shoppe.' Vol. 208.— No. 415. 2 i 470 THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE entrance? The Eear Stage, or recess between the two main doors, which we have seen to be so indispensable in other respects, comes to our aid here as well. It is certain that there were some means of access to the Eear Stage from behind, since the cases are innumerable in which persons or objects are revealed or concealed^ upon it. There must, then, have been at least one opening to it ; and a little reflection will show us that in all probability (since bulky ' properties ' had often to be placed upon and removed from it) access to it would be as little obstructed as possible. Thus there is every reason to suppose that it was not in any true sense of the word a 'niche or * alcove,' but rather a corridor, some six or seven feet deep, and open at each end. Nor can we see any reason to doubt that there would be a largo door in the middle of its back wall. Why should the Elizabethan playwright have denied himself such an obvious convenience ? Apart from stage-directions naming, or clearly pointing to, a ' middle ' door, we conceive that this door was habitually used to figure the gate of a town or castle of which the Upper Stage had served as the battlements. For example, it was probably by the middle door that Henry V entered Harfleur. The two other doors had been used for other entrances ; it would have been absurd for the Rear Stage curtains to figure the gates of a town ; and for Henry and his army to go off by one of the side-entrances to the Rear Stage would have been, under the circumstances, wholly ineffective. Dr Wegener believes that the whole Rear Stage could not only be curtained ofif, but shut off with doors. The reasons he adduces are plausible ; but there are almost insuperable architectural difficulties in the way of this theory. The existence of an Upper Stage to figure battlements, balconies, windows, etc., is admitted by all parties. There is, indeed, a considerable number of plays in which there is no evidence of its being used; but we cannot assign plays which require the Upper Stage to one theatre and plays which do not require it to another. It seems to have been always there for the playwright to use if he chose. There are some plays, however, which seem to demand that characters placed on the Upper Stage should be able to see what was passing on the Rear Stage ; and this is the primary reason which has induced Mr Walter THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE 471 H. Godfrey, in his recent reconstruction of the Fortune Theatre (p. 462), to bring the Upper Stage forward at both ends, thus placing the main entrance-doors in oblique panels of wall, and providing over each of them a balcony- like projection. There are several othei^ arguments of considerable force for this oblique position of the en- trance-doors ; but it cannot as yet be said to be proven. That the stage was provided with traps is certain ; also that they were freely used. It is certain, too, that some sort of windlass was: placed in the upper regions (no doubt in the lower part of the turret) by means of which gods and other aerial beings could be lowered and hauled up again. When we add that the walls were draped with arras hangings, and that the boards themselves were generally strewn with rushes, we have given, perhaps, as clear an outline of the typical Elizabethan stage as the imperfect nature of the evidence permits of our attaining. Postscript. — ^Too late for full discussion in this article, a remarkable pamphlet has been published by Mr Victor E. Albright, of Columbia University, entitled 'A Typical Shaksperian Stage' (New York, The Knickerbocker Press). Working, in part at least, from different data, and by different methods, Mr Albright arrives at conclusions very similar to those embodied in Mr Godfrey's Fortune Theatre design (p. 462). His essay is one of the ablest studies of the Elizabethan Theatre that have yet appeared. William Akchee. ( 472 ) Art. IX.— THE IDEAS OP MR H. G. WELLS. The Time Machine. London: Heinemann, 12,Q5.— When the Sleeper Wakes ; Love and Mr Lewisham. London : Harper, 1899, 1900.— Anticipations ; Mankind in the Making. London: Chapman and Hall, 1902-3.— T/ie Food of the' Gods; Kipps. London: Macmillan, 1904-5. —A Modem Utopia ; The Future in America. London : Chapman and Hall, 1905-^.—Socialism and the Family. London: Fifield, 1906.— In the Days of the Comet. London: Macmillan, 1906. — A^et« Worlds for Old. London : Constable, 1908. Remarkable as Mr H. G. Wells is as an individual author, he is still more remarkable as a representative figure. He exhibits in a striking manner the virtues and defects of a new and increasing class in the English bourgeoisie. He is a revolutionary fanatic with that doctrinaire cast of mind which, as it used to be more common in France than in England, is sometimes re- garded as a mark of race, but which, in matter of fact, is merely the product of a certain kind of intellectual at- nxosphere and a certain kind of training. He is the child of an age of schwdrmerei, with the qualities of that age enhanced by a scientific education of a peculiar sort. No inconsiderable part of his originality is due to the fact that he happened to appear in a period of unsettle- ment, when the English mind was, for the first time, losing hold of the world of experience and groping wildly in a world of theory. From the epidemic of frantic sciolism produced by the eighteenth century movement of enlightenment, the English middle classes escaped somewhat lightly. Their knowledge was the fruit of experiment rather than of deduction; and a happy play of circumstances enabled them to elaborate, out of their own affairs, the principles of modern industrial civilisation. But their exemption from the general disease of thought of their age was pur- chased at a heavy price. Having initiated, as a matter of practice, the movement of illumination which the spokes- men of the French bourgeoisie adopted as a matter of theory, they acquired a dangerous contempt for mere ideas. Their placidity of mind soon degenerated into