TYPES OF HEROINES IN THID ~RENCH ROMANTIC DRAMA:

A COMPARISON WITH THE H~ROINES OF RACINE AND CORNEILLE •

.A Thesis Presented for the Degree of Master of Arts

BY

Della Roggers Maidox, B. A.

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THE OHIO-STATE UNIVERSITY

-- 19 :20 BIBLIOGRAPHY

I. French Sources Histoire da la Langue et ]e la Litterature Fran9aise Vols. IV, V, and VII Petit de Julleville. Drama Ancien, Drame Moderne Emile Faguet.

Les 3rands Maitres du XVII~ Siecle, Vol V, IDmile Faguet. Histoire de la Litterature Fran9aise Brunetiere.

Le Mouvement Litt~raire ju XIX! Sihcle t'ellissier.

Le Rialisme iu Ro~a~ti3me Pellissier.

Histoire ie la Litterature Fran9aise Abr Y..1 A11 Uc et Crou z;et

Les Epoques iu Theatre Fran9ais• Bruneti~re~

Les Jranis Eorivains 'ran9ais~~Raoine .Justave Larroumet. " II " " Boilea11 Lanson.

Histoire iu Romantisme Th6o~hile Gautier. ld(es et Doctrines Litteraires du XrII' Siecle Vial et Denise. n " II II " XIX ' ti Vial et Denise.

Histoire de la Litt~rature Fran9aise, Vols.II,III " " " " " Lanson. Portraits Litteraires, Vol I Sainte-Beuve. CauserEes de Lunii Sainte-Beuve. De La Poesie Dramatique, Belles Lettres, Vol. VII Diderot. L'Art Poetique Boi l'eau. Racine et Victor Hugo P. Stapfer. La Poetique de Racine Robert.

Les Granis IDcrivains Fran9ais--Alex. Dumas,P~re Parigot. II. English Sources Rousseau and Romanticism Irving Babbitt. Literature of the French Renaissance, Vols. I and II Tilley. Annals of the· French Stage, Vols. II ani III Hawkins. The Romantic Revolt Vaughan. The Romantic Triumph Omond. Studies in Hugo's Dramatic Characters Bruner.

Main Currents of Nineteenth Century Literature, Vol.III Brandes~ History of English Romanticism in the Nineteenth Century Beers. History of Literary Criticism in the Italian Renaissance Spingarn. PLAYS CONSIDERED

Cornei Ile Victor Hugo Le Cid Hernani Horace Marion de Lorme Polyeucte Angelo Tite et Berenice Ruy Blas Rodogune Alexandre Dumas, pAre Racine Henri III et Sa Gour

I.phi genie Ang~le Andromaque Mlle de Belle Isle Mithridate Les Demoiselles de St. Cyr Berenice La Tour de Nesle Athalia Phedra Alfre1.de Masset F'antasio On ne badine pas avec L'Amour OUTLINE

I. Introduction

II. French Classic Tragedy 1. Historical Survey . (a) In France (b) Influence of Italian Criticism 2. Causes Underlying Classic Tragedy (a) Humanism

(b) Aristotelianism (c) aationalism (1) "La Raison Logique"

(2) "La Raison Oratoire"

(3) "La Raison ~ratique"

3. Characters (a) Limited Number

(b) High Rank

(c) Types, Abstractions Horace .Tite et Berenice Andromaque Polyeucte Mithridate

Ro:io~une Berenice

Ph~dre

4. Treatment of Lo~e i~ Classic Tra~e~y III. Romanticism 1. Causes for Romantic Revolt (a) Decadence of Classic Drama ' (b) New Awakening--Rousseau

(c) Precursors of Romanticism (1) Transition Dramatists

(2) Literary Criticism

(d) Dramas of the Empire 2. Romantic Revolt

(a) Preface to "Cromwell"

(b) Characteristics of Romanticism (c) Battle of Hernani 3. Characters Dona Sol in Hernani Henri III et Sa Cour

Marion '.ie Lorme Angele Tisbe Mlle 1e Belle Isle

La Reine in Ruy Blas La Tour 1e Nes le Fanta.sio

IV. Con cl us ion

• 1

I. Introduction.

Romanticism is the brid~e that spans ths gulf between rrench Classic Tra~edy and the Modern Drama. The highest form of poetic art is found, according to Victor Hugo, in the drama. Humanity, he says, has passed through first the stage of the lyric, then that of the epic, and has at last reached its hi~h­ est, its most perfect development in the irama. The elements of

1 the drama are all to be found in germ in the lyric ani in the epic ; their full fruitage may be seen in the drama, "la poesie complete". From the days of Aeschylus and Sophocles, the drama has furnished the clearest interpretation of what was best and noblest in each succee·:Hng age. It was in the field of drama, therefore, that the Romanticists of 1830 1ecide1 to storm the citadel of French

Classicism, knowin~ well that a victory on the French stage would mean final victory for the young innovators. The enormity, the almost hopelessness of their task becomes evident when we consider that they hai opposing them not only the greatest names of French literature but also a dramatic system which had reigned· supreme for nea~ly three hundred years, which had been perfectej by centuries of classic culture. The place of women among the dramatie personnae of every literature.is by no means unimportant. In the greatest writers of French trage1y, for instance, women take a preiominx1t place. Of Racine's nine tra~e1ies, "Lia Thebaide" ani "Alexan1"ee" excepte1, six have women for their tit\e rales. Of the three 2 others, two might quite as logically be named for women, Roxane and Agrippina for Bajazet and Britannicus. Even when Racine abandoned profane subjects ani triei his hani at scriptural themes, he still took, in "Esther" and "Athalia", women for his leading roles. It is the purpose of these pages to analyze the heroines of representative dramas and to attempt to '.ietermine what is the message they bring to us of the real significance of the

Romantic movement in its stru~gle against Classicism. Among the questions we shall ask ourselves are:- (1) Do the heroines of the Romantic School belong to a different type from the pure, statuesque, high-souled women who ~race the stage of Corneille and Racine? (3) Are tney real women, or are they the embodiment of an abstract idea? (3) Are they capable of determining their own destiny, or are they slaves to conven­

tion, to traiition? (4) Are their actions dominatei by the heal or by the heart?

II. Survey of French Classic Tragedy.

French Classic Tragedy had its ori~in in the 18th

century with the coming of Ronsari ani the Pl~iade. It is true·

that the Wrench interest in some form of spectacle ~oes back to

the 11th century, with the pr~sentation of "Le Myst•re d'Adam"

and kindred reli~ious plays. However, the Mystery, Miracle and

Morality plays ha1 no real effect on Classic Tra~eiy, hardly more than an indirect influence. Then came the Renaissance with its awakening, to the stuiy and imitation of the ancients. The first impulse toward the imitation of the classic 3 iramatists dates fro~ the appearance in 1550 of the "Ddfense et

Illustration de la Langue Fran9aise" in which Joachim du Bell~ advises the substitution of the ~reat genres of antiquity for the

·"~pisseries et drogueries" of the Middle Ages. Two years later Joislle, the youngest of the Pldiade, wrote his "Cldopatre", a tragedy which with its long monolo~ues and choruses omits no­ thing that coul1 possibly be borrowe~ from the ancients. Joielle was followed by Robert Jarnier whose principal title to honor is "Les Juives" (1583), in which he foreshadows, though faintly, Corneille. From 1600 to 1630 comes a period of reaction. Garnier had appealed only to the learned, the savants. The public would

have nothing of it. The reaction was led by Alexandre Hardy whose dramas were for a time immensely popular. Hardy, whom Corneille honored with unselfish praise, departed not a little from the

classic fashion of the Pl~iade. He has abundance of action and characters; a real sense of stage-craft ani an intuitive apprecia­ tion of what would please the audience. By cutting the choruses

and intensifying the a~tion, Hardy made the classic play actable. Not less than two hunjred plays came from his prolific pen in

twenty years, of which, however, only a few have livej. Hardy jrew from all sources, especially from the Spanish, an1 un1er his touch the 1rama began to diver3ify into the great....,.,. richness which

it showed in the earlier 17th cent~ry. Alexandre Hardy played fast and loose with the rules laid down by the Pleiade. So much so that the Abbe D'Aubignac speaks of him as arresting the progress

/ 4 of the classic theatre. With the passing of Hardy, the rules of the ancient drama were fastened more firmly than ever on French tragedy. The story of the evolution of the principles underlying French classicism forms one of the most interesting chapters in the st11dy of French literature. Aristotle is a name to be con­ jured with. But where did the French get their notions of Aristotle? The influence of the Poetics on classic antiquity seems to have been very slight. In Horace, Cicero an1 iuintilian we

find no reference to it. Durin~ the Middle Ages he was probably unknown, for. Dante an1 aoccaccio make no reference to Aristotle, and Petrarch makes only one obscure reference. Then came the fall

of Constantinople an1 the ~reat influx of Greek culture into Italy. In 1515 appearei the "Sopbonisba" of Trissino, the first

regular moiern tra~eiy, which was an attempt to pat Aristotle's theories into practice. In 1527 Vi1a in his "De Arte Poetica"

paved the way for that literary criticism whieh was to influence so profoundly the literary work of two centuries in Europe. Vida's theory of the relation of nature to art was one of the steps in the development of Neo-Classicism. He says that every ancient writer is at bottom an imitator of nature; therefore one who would imitate the classics must imitate nature. Nature is to Vi1a syn­

onymous with court and city life. Fro~ the year 1536, a year which marked the beginning of the supremacy of Aristotle in lit­ erature, a great bost of versions of the Poetics was published in Italy;-- including critical versions in Jreek, La.tin an:i trans­ lations in Italian. These became living things not onl1 to the 5

Italian poets and critics but also to French writers. Racine and Corneille possessed copies of these commentaries as their quotations in the Pr~face and Examens and some notes in the margins of their manuscripts testify. Side by side with this in­ fluence was that of the Latin poets and theorists, especially that of the Senecan tragedy. "Our·French authors," says Ronsard, "know Virgil far better than· they know Homer or any other Greek writ er. One of the most celebrated of the French commentators of Aristotle was J. Cesar Scaliger who in 1561 published his ~ ~ "Po~tique". Scaliger wasAfervent admirer of Seneca as well as an· enthusiastic iisciple of Aristotle, whom he regards as the per- petual la .. giver of poetry. "First find out what' Aristotle says and then ,ebey without quastioni" is his aivice. The reconcilia- tion which Scaliger formulated between Aristotle ani the Latin theory of ·tra~edy became one of the foundations of French Classicism.

In 1570~ the great critical work of Castelvetro, with its emphasis upon the Unities, appeared in Italy, preceding by only ~wo years the work of Jean de la Taille. In his "Art de la

Trag~die" published at the beginninq of bis "Saiil", Jean de la Taille has 1one more than Scaliger if not to spread, yet to co­ oriinate and complete the classic doctrine of tragedy. With

Scaliger, he insists upon characters of illustrious lineage, a subject inspirin~ pity ani fear, an unhappy ienoument. · To this he a11s his theory that nothing should occur on the sta~e which 6 cannot reasonably and conveniently oecur there; no murders or violent ieaths, because he says the spectator will recognize it as a "feintise". The liaison of scenes, the unity of each act in the greater unity of the 'drama are principles which must have influenced profoundly Corneille 1 s theory. Jean de la Taille was the first in France to add the unity of place to that of time and action. The first regular tragedy observing these theories and especially the three unities was the "Sophonisbe" written by

Mairet in 1634. In the followin~ year Cbapelain, the literary dictator of his age, converted Richelieu to the theory of the three unities, and from 1640 this iron-clad classic doctrine was fastened upon Frenc~ 1rama until the Romantic revolt. We have seen from this historical sketch that Classic tra~edy owes its development to two ~reat causes--Humanism, or the study of the Classics, ani Aristotelianism, or the influeice of the poetics. To this we nee1 to add in France a thirdr Rational­ ism, or the authority of Reason. To sum up the results of these influences: (1) The imitation of the classics resultei in the study and cult of external form. One of the preoccupations of the humanists of the 16th century was to stuiy the structure of the ancient works. Their beauty was re1uce1 to mere formulae, to recipes, t~ rules. The co1ification of these rules came to be regar1e1 as an infallible metho1, as a necessary con1ition of

literary perfection. D'Aubi~n~c said, "The bea~ty of a dcama.is

·•easuned.not by tbe.pleasare. it.affords.but. by. its· oonformity to 7 rules." It was this rigidity, this repression under the bond- age of rules, this dwindlin~ of form into mere form~lism which led to the decadence of French Classicism. (2) In Aristotle's definition we find the underlying theory of tragedy. "Tragedy" he says, "is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete and of a certain magnitude; in the form of action, not of narration; through pity or fear effecting the prop­ er catharsis or pur~ation of these emotiohs." The imitation of a serious------action came to be interpreted in the 16th century as an i!!~!~~i2Y! action. Cintio says actions of tragedy are called il!~!~ti2~~ not because they are virtuous or vicious in themselves but merely because they are the actions of people of illustrious rank. Dacier says, "It is not necessary that action be ~reat or important in itself. On the contrary it may be very ordinary or common but it must be so in the-quality of the persons who act. - -Greatness of eminent men renders the ac- tion great. 1! The external rank of characters as the distinguish- ing characteristic is very un-Aristotelian. Moral nobility is what Aristotle demands. The Renaissance theory of i~22t~! requir- ed that every youn~ man, every soldier, evsry queen should have certain fixe1 characteristics, shouli talk, act and dress in a certain manner~ No ieviation from this fixed and formal mode of

re~arding character was allowei under any circumstances. When a

poet sought to liberate himself and to p~rtray character, we fini character but never the development of character. In the Neo- 8

Classic drama, character was fixed from the beiinnin~ of the play to the end. In Aristotle we find the unity of action and in a single reference--an incidental statement regarding the usu~l practice of Greek tragedy--we find the unity of time. There is no mention whatever as to the unity of place. It is to the Italians of the Renaissance that the world owes the development of the three unit­ ies. We have ·seen therefore, that Aristotelianism mearis not the pure and lucid principles of poetry as given in the Poetics, but those principles as they ha31e been commented upon, interprete·d and distortei by Italian critics. It has been 3aid that there is not an essential idea or prec~pt in the works of Corneille and D'Aubignac on iramatic poetry that cannot be found in the writ­ in~s of the Italian Renaissanc~.

(3) The third great element and perhaps the most im­ port ant of all is Rationalism. In the 17th century in France abstract reason dominates everythin~. In all the domain of in­ tellectual and moral act~vit.Y the!"e is this same "orship of rea"" son~ It is to the rationalistic spirit that we owe the universal­ ization of ancient rules ~nd the imposition of an exact and absol­ ute standard of taste. D'Aubi~nac says the rules of the theatre are formed not ·on authority but on reason and if they are called the rules of the ancients it is simply because the ancients have admirably practiced them. Corneille says unity of time would be arbitrary and tyrannical. if it were merely requirei by Aristotle but its real prop is reason. The Italian~ set up two standards and said, "F1ollow Aristotle ill'.11 Reason." In F'rance Nao-Classicism

10

~: three pha3e3.

(1) k~ E!i~2U ~2iigi~, which deman1s that character should ever be subor1inate to action. The action is not, as in the moiern drama, the outcome, the result af certain character-

istics in their struggle against circu~stances; rather is the ac- tion illustrated in the characters. ?::>r this reas~n a character must embo:iy one paramount quality. Tt must be the embo:iiment of a single abstract idea.

(2) ~~ E~i~2ll Qr!~2it~ requires that the characters sboul:i be able to express themselves logically, even eloquently

un:ier the most a:iverse circumstances. Hermione an:i Ph~:ire never lose their reasoning power even in their wiliest paroxysms of pas-

sion. Phe:ire has clear cons~iousness of he~ folly; she analyses

it, she :iefines it. Her clearness of thought,·her intellectual

possession of herself never ab~n:ion~s her even ami:i the collapse of the moral an:i spiritual forces of her SQul.

(3) 1! E~i~Qn_~r~~ig~~ requires that the author should

teach the moral truth. In his "Discours :lu Po~ma Dramatique" Cor-

neille expresses faitn that tne irama shoul:i not only please but'

benefit the spectator. It has four "ays of :ioing this, (1) By

moral maxims, (2) By simple portraiture of virtue an1 vice,

(3) By :iisplayin~ virtue rewar1'31 an:i vice punished, (4) by catharsis or the purgation of the emotions of pity an1 fear.

Characters. The first thing that impresses us in Classic urama is the very limitei number of characters. There are to be sure,' the 11 confidants, mere puppets into whose listening ears the hero or heroine may pour his secret thoughts. Then t~ere are the messen- gars who bring reports of the action and make us wish to peep behind the scenes ani see somethin~ really exciting. Other than theseJalmost all the characters are protagonists. In the seconj placeJ we are struck by the fact that all the characters are either kings or princes. Mercier complains that one would think there are no heads on the earth but those that wear a diadem. There is a manifest preference for characters from mythology or anci9nt history, which because of distance would have more majesty or

loftiness. Characters from moiern history were re~arded as in-

compatible with the dignity of tra~edy. There are almost no cbil- dren. One, the boy-king in Athalie, speaks like the miniature of a grown-up man. Underneath these m9re surface observations we come to ~ . feel the iiealization of the classic characters. They are not individuals in flesh an1 blood. The exterior forms are efface1 ani the soul, tne moral iiea or ideal is all that remains. Above the ancient names of heroes, of kings anj queens, 3acine and Corneille have seen man in himself--the man of all times an1 all countries. This universalism led them to create types, mere ab­

stractions. Just as Moli~re ~ives us not a miser, but the raiser, or rather Avarice personif iej, so Racine gives us not a jealous

woman but 1~ [~fil!2 J~l~~~~' in IDriphile, in Hermione, in Ph~dre, a type in which ne excells. Corneille's is the heroic type. The supreme faculty of his heroes and heroines is will. The ------rlessort 12

~2a~i!lli of Corneille's tragedy is the struggle of the will aga~nst passion in behalf mf duty.

Horace.

In HoraceJwe have the strug~le of love ani family affec­ tion against patriotism. The unity of Horace consists in the idea of f!~ti~ personified in a hero. [Jn Sabine, wife of the young Horace, we have the struggle between patriotism and the love for her brothers on the one hani, and love for her husband on the other. Sabine is beautiful but with a kind of statuesque beauty. The young and beautiful Jamille abandons herself wholly to her love for Curiace. She scarcely thinks either of Rome or her brothers. Her every thought is for her lover. The wrath of

Horace against his sister resultin~ in his murder of her merely because she w9eps for her iead lover is revolting. That shows us Corneille's tneory that love is only a weakness to be overcome. The following monologue of Camille in Act IV, Scene IV, stretobes out her ~rief through two pa~es:

Otii; je lui ferai voirr par d'infa\llible marques,,

Qu•un v~ri\able amour brave la main des Parquea,

Et ne prend point de lois de oes cruels tyrans

~,u•un astre injurieux nous donne pour parents.

Tu bl4mes ma douleur, tu l'oses nommer l&obe;

Je l'aime d'autant plus que plus elle te f&obe,.

Impitoyable p~rei et p~r un Juste effort

Je la veux rendre ~gale aux rigueurs de moo sort.

En vit-on jamais un dont les rudes traverses

Prissent en moins de rien tant de faces diverses, 13

~ui tat doux tant de foia, et tant de foia cruel,

Et port&t tant de ooupa avant le ooup mortel?

Vit•on jamais une &me en un jour plus atteinte

De Joie et de douleur, d'esperanoe et de orainte,

Aaa~vie en eaolave l plus d'~v~nements,

Et le piteux Jouet de plua de ohangements?

Un oracle m'assure, un aonge me travaill~i

La paix oalme l'effroi que me fait la bataille;

Mon hymen se pr~pare, et presque en un moment

Pour combattre mon fr~re on ohoisit mon amant;

Ce ohoix me d~sesp~re, et tous le d~savouent;

La partie est rompue, et les Dieux la renouent;

Rome s em b 1 e v a i no 11e 1 - et s e u 1 de a tr o i s A1 b a i n s 1

Curiaoe et mon sang n'a point trempP. sea mains.

0 Dieuxl sentais-je alors de• douleurs trop l~g~res

Pour le malheur de Rome et la mort de deux fr~res,

Et me tlattaia-je trop quand je eroyais pouvoir

L'aimer enoor sans crime et nourir qu~lque espoir?

Sa mort m~en punit bi~n; et ta fafon oruelle

Dont mon lme ~perdue en re9oit la nouvelle~

Son rival me l~apprend, et faisant -~ mes yeux

D'un si triste suco~s le r~oit odieux,

Il porte sur le front une all~gresse ouverte,

Que le bonheur public fait bien moins que ma perte;

Et b!tissant en l 'air aur le malheur d'autr1Ji,.

Ausai bien que mon fr~re il triomphe de lui.

Mais ee n'est rien encore au prix de oe qui r~stei 14

On demande ma Joie en un jour ai funeate;

Il me faut applaudir aux exploits du vainqueur,

Et baiaer une main qui me peroe le eoeur.

En u~ sujet de pleu~s ai grand, ai 14gitime~

Se plaindre eat une bonte, et soupirer un crime;

Leur brutale vertu veut qu'on a'eatime beureux,

Et ~i l'on n'est barbare, on n'eat point g4n4reux.

D4g4n4rona, mon ooeur, d'un ai vertueux p~re;

Soyona indigne aoeur d'un ai g4n4reux fr~re:

C'eat gloire de passer pour un ooeur abbatu,

~uand la brutalit4 fait la haut~ vertu.

Eolatez, mes douleurs: ~ ,uoi bon vous oontraindre?

Quand on a tout perdu, que sau~ait-on plus oraindre?

Pour oe cruel vainqueur n'ayez point de respect;

Loin d'eviter aes yeux, oroissez a son aspect;

Offensez sa victoire, irritez sa ool~re;

Et prenezv s'il se peut, plaiair a lui d4~laire~

Il vient: pr4parona-nous .~ montrer constamment

Ce que doit une amante a Ia mor~ d'un amant.

This is classic ~rief ~ Real grief ioes not reason so long ex- cept when animatei by 1! t!i~2n Qt~~2it~I The heroines in this play are subor1inats characters. Three lines of the older Horace sum up for us a1mirably this wonjerf ul irama:

Rome aujourd~hui m'a vu p~re de quatre enfants

Trois en oe ~~•e jour aont morts pour sa querelle

Il m'en reste encore un. Oonaervez-le pour elle." 15

He does not say, ·"Pour moi r for my white hair, for my w.idowei 011 a.gel" That woul1 have been too much of the personal, a weakness accor1ing to classic iieals • It is still "Pour ellel Pour la patrie," to whom he has given his all.

Tite et B~renice. The subject of the love of the Roman emperor Titus for an eastern queen was given at the same time to Corneille and to

Racibe by the Duchess of Orleans. In Corneille's drama~we have not a love drama but a mere ha~gling over love in the light of convenance and reasons of state until th~ last fine scene when Berenice renounces the throne anj the 'heart of her lover in order to be true to ::\o:nan iieals. ritus says: "L'amour peut-il se faire une si jerre loi~?w The answer of BeI"enice, "La raison me fa.it mal~I"e vous, malgr-e moi," snows us that it is the head anj not the heart which comes off victor in the struggle.

Polyeucte.

In Polyeucte~ Cornaille rises to the full height of his

~enius. In Pauline we see a woman who bas not marrie1 her lover..I a high-soutei Rom~n, namei S~v•re, becguse he was too poor to gain the favor of her father ~elix. ·rhe latter is an ambitious an1 un- scruoulo~R Roman Senator who becomes 3overnor of Armenia. Pauline follows !)er father the!'e, an:i out of obejience to his wishes mar- ries Polyeucte, an Armenian nobleman. She still loves her former lover anj tells him so two weeks after her marriage to Polyeucte~

Inspire1 by the martyrdom of the Chri3tian~Polyeucte sudienly embraces that faith, ani the stru~~!e between his iuty to Goi and his love for his briie be~ins. Polyeucte rises to heights of 16 supernatural heroism and dies a m~rtyr to his faith. The heroic efforts of Pauline to save her husband's life and of S~v~re to second her efforts ~ive\ us two of the noblest examples of un­ selfish devotion in all literature.

Is Pauline animated by ~eal love for her husband, or by a sense of conjugal juty? Sainte-Beuve says she does love him: that Reason has impelled her to conju~al affection. I think Mme ••

'.le Sevign€ 1.a.s more nearly right when she saii, "Voil~ la plus honn~te femme du monde qui n'aime pas du tout son mari." In h~ we see a woman who, sustaine'.i by high moral courage, and a sublime conception of duty, wrestles with and subdues a passion which forms a part of her being~ In the theory that she does not love Polyeucte, we have to deal with one 1iff icult line,-- "Ne desespere point une fl.me qui t' a:iore. " It is easier however to believe that that line was spoken in the exalt at ion of that :iavot ion she feels a woman owes to her husband than that a ~ood woman could in a short space of twenty~four hours transfer a deep and true affection from one man to another im• pelle1 by no other motive than aeason. In the final analysis ~

R3~son and Duty 10 rule the character of Pauline, the duty of dbedience to her father in giving up her real lover, 1uty to her father in ma~rying the man he chooses for her, and 1uty to her husband. Her only real love was, in the mind of Corneille, a weakness, anj because she surmounted that frailty he has made her one of his most Charmin~ heroiues.

19 and charm to win and hold the affection of such a kin~ as Pyrrhus. She is faithful throughout to her vows to Hector, only agreeing t6 accept the hand a~d crown of Pyrrhus as a means of saving h~ child. Her plan is to take her own life immediately after the marriage in order to remain true to her.dead husband. Just as Pyrrhus puts the crown "on the hea1 of An:iromaque ani promises her son all, he is assassinated by Orestes and the enraged Greeks. Andromaque alone emerges out of all this tragic confusion calm. and triumphant because she alone has pursued no selfish motive. In Andromaque_, womanly devotion to an ideal--to what she feels the widow of Hector ought to be and to do--and not love, is a deter- ,ining factor. In dsfense of this position the tragedy closes with Andromaque rei~nin~ in ffipirus, rendering to Pyrrhus "tous les devoirs d'une veuve fid.le." If a sense of iuty, and it could ·not be love, keeps her faithful to, Pyrrhus n'Jw, may it not well have been a•sense of duty to Hector before? • Mithri·iate. The character of Monime in Mithriiate is one of the sweetest, one of the most chastely beautiful creations of Racine. She has loved devoteily since her childhooi the young hero

Xiphar~s, but she has no thought of escaping fr-0m her approaching marriage to bis oli and jealous father, ~ithridate, whose captive she is. Her virtue is rewarded when at nis death~Mithridate magnanimously gives her to his son, a man whom she has love1 so long and so hopelessly. 20

Berenice. Racine's Berenice shows great superiority over the co~panion drama of Corbeille. After so many tragedies of Reason and Duty we are almost incluned to believe with Rousseau that

Titus would have been much more interestin~ if he had sacrificed the empire to love! Titus's speech to Berenice may be a ~ood resume of the attitude of the classic tragedy in the struggle between love and duty. To Berenice he says,

"Foroez votre amour ~ ae taire

Et d'un oeil que la raison et la gloire 4olaire

Contemplez mon devoir dans toute sa rigueur!• After all his heroic sacrifices of love to reasons of state, he says of himself by way of apology, "Vil spectacle aux humains jes faiblesses d'amour."

Phe:ire. When Racine was asked which of his iramas he preferred be replied, "Je sdis pour Ph~1re~~ As an ener~etic portrayal ~ passion, Ph~dre is unexcelled in Racine. In her we see the strug­ gle of a virtuous soul with an illicit passion for Hippolyte, the son of har huiband. She detests her fault ~nd would have conquered it but for the tortures of jealousy of the beautiful Aricie. Hearing of her husband's ieath, her mainess leads bar into de:laring her love to Hippolyte, who is nocrified. Th€s'e sud1enly returns and the repentance and horror of Phedra for her sin is 1Jerribte. Hippolyte, accus_e'JI before his father, is dragged to death by his horses. Pheire lives lon~ enough to ieclare him innocent before his father and then expiates her crime by drink• 21 in~ slow poison. The horror in her own heart for her sin in- spires us with profound pity.

La raison 6n~toire is doubtless responsible for the ------~-~~- un1uly long speeches in Ph~dre. Theramenes, who comes to acquaint Thesee with his son's death should in any but the Classic drama have told it in a few words. Hippolyte---is ".lead. A monster which the angry go".is sent from the bottom of the sea---devoured him. I saw it all. Could a man so concerned, so agitated, so breathless amuse himself in making a pompous description of the sea-monster, of dragging it out into a tirade of seventy-two lines?

The Place of Love in Classicism. It may be pertinent to ask just what place love ·held in the Classic Drama. Charles Nodier is a little extravagant when u.n he says that up to 1830 love played a very~important part in the French drama. Jorneille declarei it inconsistent with the dfgnity of tragedy to employ love except as a minor feature of a plot, and then only as a spur to great and heroic ieeds. In him love is frequently a tempter but nevsr a tyrant. His heroes and heroines are always victors through force of the will. In Polyeucte alone which shows the .Jansenist influence, it is not an: effort of will but the grace of God invokej by Poleucta which aids him in his struggle against iove aQi in his triumph over it. In Racine love is much more prominent. Napoleon excuses the "eternal amour'' in Racine by sayin~, "It is not altogether his fault. It was tha vice an:i custom of the age. Love then and still later was the supreme interest of everyone." He aids, "C'est 22 toujours le lot des societes oisives." But the final message of Racine is very like that of

Corneille. Love unbri1le1 drives P1rrhus ~ ~ 10~th, Orestes to madness: and Hermione to suici1e. Roxane and Phedra end miser­ ably. Monime and Andromaque, besijes nearly all Corneille's her­ oines, surmount this human weakness &nd therefore come out of their tragedies full of life and joy. "k! t~i~Qll ~t~~i9i~: the moral truth in both dramatists is the same. Another phase of love in the Classic tragedy is its in­ tellectual character. Love seems to increase rather than diminish their keenness of thought, their clearsightedness in proportion as they a~anion themselves to their passion. Not only in B~r6nice and ~dnime, but even in Ph~dre, love remains intimately united to intelligence. It never loses the capacity to reason. The con­ ception of love is altogether classic. Racine's heroines, with their remarkable logic, an1 moral self-analysis, ~ive forceful witness to the influence, to the philosophy of Descartes on the literature of the 17th century. The Aristotelian influence is seeri in the restraint, th~ perfect proportion with which love is treated. It is never allowej to be a furious passion breaking all the obstacles which reason opposes to it.

III. Romanticism. 1. Causes of Romantic Revolt. The transition from the 17th to the 18th century shows a marked decline in Classic Drama. Racine has many imitators. but no successors. ffiighteentb century tra~edy is characterized.by a 23 peculiar sort of flatness, of tepi1ity, by a ri~id formalism and imitation which marked the whole period as one of decadence. For a time Voltaire, by the brilliancy of his ~enius, by the stage reforms which he succee1ed in introducing .partially stayed the These reforms included the borrowing°fsubjects downward tendency. A from elsewhere than Greece and Rome and the presentation on the stage of philosophic theories. Amon~ the many mediocre dramatists of .the time of Voltaire, Crebillon alone can be mentioned as po~s- essin~ dramatic talent and originality. To him is attributej the saying, "Jorneille has taken Heaven, Racine the ffiarth. For me there remains only Hell." Consequently Cr~billon threw himself into picturin~ the horrible, the most revolting crimes, which inspire pity throu~h their terror. In his tra~edies, ofi which the best is "Rhadamiste et Z~nobie", he shows himself a fairly clever i~ itator of Corneille, the Corneille of Rojogune.

lith the mifidle of the century a great change be~an to be felt in the th~ught anj literature of all western Europe. It was the stirrin~ of a new life, which spread from end to end of the continent and affected mightil~ the whole fabric of European civilization, politically, socially an1 intellectually~ In France, Rousseau was the mouthpiece of this new impulse, which in politics culminated in the French Revolution, anj in literature in the Rom­ antic Movement. Rousseau, liKe most of the 18th century writers, used literature as a means for speaking his doctrines. His prin­ cipal contributions to the new movement were in his emphasis on Nature. "ffil a mis le vert ians notre litt6rature." Secondly, in his emphasis on the emotions. The 17th century emphasis was on 24 the pronoun "On", the universal. The 18th and early 19th cen­ tury emphasize the H2i• spelled with glowing capitals. For a tame after the death of Rousseau and Voltaire in

1778,, tra~edies written on classic models continued to be written and in large number. But with the exception of a very few, the fhi!~~i! of La Harpe among the most notable, the breath of life has ~one out of them.

0~ the precursors of the Romantic Drama, those who form the transition from Voltaire and the Classicists on the one hand to Vitet, Dumas and Victor Hugo on the other, we need mention only four,-- Diderot, Sedaine, Beaumarchais, and Lemercier. Diderot, though he failed as a dramatistf particularly in "Le Fils Nature!", yet as a critic had a profoun'.i influence. He a1- vocated the serious comedy, !~ it~~~. as an agent for social re­ form. The influence of Diderot is best seen ifl his follower~, Sedaine, best known in his "Philosophe sans J9 Savoir". Beaumarchais, the most notable dramatist of the period, wrote what he called "trage:Hes bourgeoises",--"Eugenie", "Les

Deux Amis", "La M're Coupable~-- in which he achieved but little success. The vital qualities of Beaumarchais' ~enius are founi in "Le Barbier de Seville," and "Le Mariage ie Fi~aro", in which he revives the old Spanish come'.iy of intrigue. His amancipation from classic subjects marks him a real precursor of Romanticism;

"~ue me font ~ moi", he says in his Essa.i sur le Jenre Dramatiqua Serieux, ''sujet paisible i'un etat monarchique au 18' sfec:le, les revolutions d'Athenes et de Aome? Que! veritable interet puis-je prendre a la mort i'un tyran 1e Pelopon~se, au sacrifice ~'une .. 25 jeune personne en Auli1e? Il n•y·a ians tout cela rien a voir pour moi, aucune moralite qui convienne." In Lemercier, author_ of "Richari III ani .Jane Shore" an1 Charles VI, we catch occasionally faint anticipations of Hugo, his successor in the French Acaiemy. Lemercier shares with Joseph Chenier, brother of An1re an1 Author of Charles IX, the distinc­ tion of reviving the histoeical drama, which played so large a part in the Revolution of 1830. In literary criticism, one of tne precursors of Roman­ ticism is M~dame de Stall, who in "De la Litterature" (1800) and in "·De L'A.llema~ne" (1810) ha:l a large influence in awakenin~ an int Hr est i n the 1 if e an 1 1 it er at u re of mo 1 er n n at ions • Ch ate au­ b r i an 1 is the imme:liate background of Romanticism. His influence

e x t en 1 i n g i n so many :ii !' e ct i on s a n j op en i n ~ up s o many fr e sh f t·3 l ei-.s

~ to tpe imagination of his readers, is next to that of Rousseau the greatest inf lu9nce on ~oraanticism. Stendhal, in his"Racine a.n1 Shakspere", advocates a 1rame written in prose on a national subject, the action of which lasts

s3veraJ ~0nths ani takes pl~ce in various localities. Manzoni, in his "Lettre sur las Unities" (1823) maie a powerful appeal for liberty in regari to the unities. The perioi of the IDmpire, iespite the encouragement of

Napol6on and the jecennial prizes, failei to sacur9 any ~r~~t

iramatists to giv~ lustre t~ his rei~n. All in all, the ira~as

of the early part of the 19th century are m~re imitations thoroly meohanioal and without artistic value. "?rench trageiy" said Goethe, "is a paroiy of itself." 26

2. The Romantic Revolt.

Upon dull ~ray days like these came the young generation of 1830 with their romantic enthusiasm, their ardent contempt for public opinion, their violent antagonism to all academic rules and conventions. The ardor of the Cenacle, of which the young

Hugo was the staniard bearer, recal~ and at the same time sur- passes the enthusiasm of Ronsard ani the Plei~de. Although the spirit of literary camaraderie had always been strong in France nothing can quite equal the fervor, the artistic intoxication, the mutual aimiration and assistance of the young Romanticists. Poets, artists, musicians, all felt themselves to be of the «same brother-

hood. One and all proclaimed the same go~pel of nature and of liberty. The "Preface de Cromwell", published in 1827, was the Magna Cnarta of th9 new movement. "IBlle rayonnait," says Theo- 'phile Ja:Jtier, "a nos yeux comme les tables ie la loi du Sinar. 11

I n i t s r e v o 1 ut i on a!' y c ha!' act e !' , i n t he f a r re a ch of i t s i n f l uenc e ,

this document is oompa~a~le to the "D~feri3e et Illustration" of

Joachim iu Bellay which was the literary manifesto of the Pletaje~

What then is Romanticism? So many conflicting i1eas an1

interpr-etations have ~atherei ar-ouni the wori that it almost eluies iefinition. The ierivation of the wori throes the fir-st

li~ht upon its meanin~. R2m~~' in oli Frenoh r-omant or r-omans, ..,,,) ------is 1er-ivei fr-om the Latin aiver-b t2!!ll2!~ It meant originally

the vario~s ver-nacular-s ierivei from the Latin, that is the 27

"langues romanes". Later Roman was the term given to tales -~~-~ written in these vernaculars, especially in 011 French. In these tale~pecple were most impressed with the preiominanoe of

I th~ fictitious over-reality. A ·15th century Latin manuscript bears this reference, "From the reaiin~ of certain t2!!~~i£!, that is books of poetry compose1 in French, on military 1eeds which are for the most part fictitious." -Two woris in moiern.

French, t2!!U~!SY~ ani t2!!a~ig~~. trace their origin to this root. The former is appliej to that which is wili, unusual, uni- que, adventurous, superlative. The latter came to be applieij following Maiame ie Sta~l, to the school of Romanticism, altho at times the woris are usej interchan~eably. The first prominent use of the wori in France iates from Rousseau, who in his "Fifth Promenaie" (1777) speaks of "romantic woods ani lake shores".

The ierivation of the wori ~ives us then the first great characteristic of Ro~anticism. 1. Rejection of Classic subjeats an1 reproduction of the life an~ thought of the Mijile Ages. Madame ie Stail says the Romant,ic literature is the only one capable of growth because it has its roots deep in the national soil, bearing in itself the seeis of its own revitalization. Classicism, in the absolute per- faction of form, was a single ani complete, a closei system. Im- itation, not creation, was its ijeal. 2. Romanticism was the literature of the people. Class- icism, as we have seen, belongei to the Court. Written for a monarchic and aristocratic society, it was manifestly out of ha:r~ as

mony "i t.h the new social views of 1 if e str u~gl ing for expression. 3. ffindividualism. Romanticism proclaimei the right of the modern world and of each individual in that world to utter

' his own messa~e to his fellow men. Thus Romanticism is centri­ fugal, while Classicism was centripetal. It is subjective, imag­ inative, individualistic. "Etre romantique," said Guttinguer "c'est chanter son pays, ses affections, ses moeurs, et son Dieu!" 4. Local Color. Sy local color, the Romanticists meant the search for accurate details, for the true atmosphere of foreign countries, of far off :iays, of unf ami 1 iar 1 ani s. For the Classic dramatist, trammeled by his unities, the only background necessary were the pillars of a Greek temple or the portico of a palace. "Ott commence," says Hugo in the Preface to Cromwell, "a comprenire de nos jours yue la localite exacte est un des premiers elements

de la realite. Le icame doit ~tre radicalement impregne de cette couleur des temps." 5. Love of external Nature. The sense of a living bond between Nature ani man emanates from Rousseau. The passionate love for external nature, the craving for woods and flowers and meadows, for fields an1 forests ani mountain fastnesses, is some­ thing unusual among the Class i aist s. After Rousseau and Chateau­ br i ani, Pthe voice of the pilgrim of nature" is beard in the land. 6. Mingling of the Tragic and Comic, of the 3ublime and Jrotesq ue. Hugo's idea of truth to nature, was, he believed, to be arrived at by making th9 extremes of nature meet. Tne drama is 29 a representation of real life in whieb the sublime and the gro­ tesque~ the beautiful and the ugly, are found side by side. This theory in the Preface to Cromwell is partially due to the peculiar 'turn of Hugo's min1. He has naturally the taste of the extraora- inary, the abnormal, the bizarre. His innate sense of contrast impells him to see in everything an antithesis, an1 to place them in striking juxtaposition. Beauty and the Seast, Esmeralda anl

~uasimodo, the throne and the scaffold, the monarch and the ex­ ecutioner face to facel Hugo further reasons that the beautiful

will be more attractive when contrasted with the u~ly. "Le contact du difforme a 1onne au sublime moderne quelque chose 1e plus pur, de plus grand, 1e plus sublime enfin que le beau antique; et cela

doit ~tre." By a curious kin1 of reasoning which reminds us of Plato, Hugo argues, "Le beau n'a qu'un type; le laij en a mille." 7. Last of all', we may note some of the faults in the pseudo-classicism of the 18th century which Romanticism sought to correct. (a) ·An impoverishej vocabulary. Since the days of Malherbe, "the tyrant of worjs and syllables", the usa of arch­ aisms, of 1ialect, or technical words, of new and picturesque

expre~sions hai been proscribe1~ (b) Conventional modes of speech; the avoidance of di• rect an1 simple terms. (c) The acceptance of cut and dried forms and rules to which one must conform. Originality hai bean regarded as a mark of bad taste. 30

(d) Limite1 system of versification. The Romanticists sought to introiuce !! !2~ ~t2l?t~, !~ ~t! !i~r~, !~ ti!! ~ti!~ To recapitulate, Romanticism differs from Classicism in subject, in content, and in form or expression. Its subjects are I g~therei from the MhUle Ages, from Forei~n history or literature, ani from the Bibl~. In content, it gives us the min~ling of the

"genres" of the traiic and the comic, the sublime ani the ~rotes~ que. It is subjective, imaginative, melancholy, iniivi::iualisticr In expression it adopts a picturesque, poetic language to express its thought. It is essentially lyric.

3. Characters. Hernani.

In 1829, Dumas's "Henri III et Sa Cour" w~s presente1 at the Theatre ~ran9ais. At its first performanse Dumas met

Alfred de Vigny and Victor Hugo. filncoura~ej by the success of

"Henri III", the youn~ Hu~o turnei to Dumas and said, "Now it is my turn". Immeiiately he be~an workin~ on his ~reat tragedy "Marion ie Lorme", which however was prohibited and its presenta- tion delayed. Thus it happened that Hernani and not Marion ie Lorme was to be chosen of the literary Fates for the great battle which was to free Wrench irama from the shackles of Classicism.- This "Battle of Hernani" so graphically described by 3autier in his "Histoire 1u Romantia9i sme ", began with the first a ppaar ance in February 1830. The scarlet waistcoat an1 green trowsers worn

by 3autier have become almost as famous as the plume of Henry of 31

Navarre. The revolutionary elements of Hernani are apparent from the first verse in which the ~l!!~!~~ calle1 1own the hisses of ,the Cl ass ici st s. In Hernani, plot is supreme. · There is complete disregari of all classic unities, save the unity of action. The plot deals with the various passions of the bandit hero, batre1, jealousy, revenge, honor, love, ani "the greatest of these is love", which constitutes the main action. Honor appears only in the cat- as tr op he, where Hernan i accepts ieat h in or '.ie.r to keep his wor j of honor to iie at the sound of the trumpet blown by his enemy, Don Gomez. Thus the Spanish sens9 of honor, and not love, is the resolvin~ force.

Hugo's passion for contrast is shown in his minglin~ of the tragic and tha comic. Accoriing to his theory, the tragic

becomes more pathetic, more intense when prec~dt~d by a comic scene, as in the second balcony scene. The sarcastic repartees of Don Carlos, usually clever ani witty, furnish a comic undertone

to all the tra~e'.iy. In the cha~acter of Do5a Sol~ Hugo portrays an almost perfect woman, Unlike the male characters of this drama ..:i she presents no antithesis in her character. She is possesse1 of one strong passion, love. But she is not an i1ealize1 charac- tar, an abstraction. Her iniivi1uality is carefully portrayed. Hsr physical beauty is inferred from the effect it has upon her

~ - - . tbree lovers. She is proud of her noble bloo1, yet sne prefers to live hungry, poor and in exile with Hernani rather than to share the throne with an emperor. She is eminently practical 32 and not a mere puppet, a victim of fate. She asks Hernani not to blame her for her stran~e audacity in proposing to follow him ·to the mountains, for where he goes she will go. She plans the secret meetings and the flight. When face to face with Don Carlos

I who is tryin~ to carry her away by force, she snatches his dagger and threat~ns to kill him if he advances one step. In the climax she compels the won1er-str uck l:k in~ to exc 1 aim that a· man in touch­ i ng her becomes either an angel or a demon. She is inspired by high ideals ani has a lon~ing desire for immortality. Her deep poetic temperament causes her to give voice to some splendid l.yric passages. Her intense love for nature appears in the last bal­ cony scene, when, after the w~diing festivities, she asks Hernani to coma out with her and hear the voices of the summer night. The heroism of her character is shown when she drinks one-half the fateful poison that she may shar~ the fate of her lover-husband on their wedding ni~ht. Her faith in immortality appears in her pathetic plea to Hernani after they have irunk the poison:

"Calme,.toi; Je suis mie11x. Vers des olart.~s nouvelles,·

Nous allons t9u\ ~ l'heure ensemble ouvrir nos aires~

Psrtons d'un vol ~gal vers un monde mei lleuri.."

Mar ion de Lorme. In Marion de Lorme, tha drama. which, according to Dumas, has come the· nearest to perfect ion, Hugo selected a motif which is rather repulsive. For his heroine he.chose a creature who is fair of body but corrupt in soul. This he iii with the 33 purpose of showing that even a courtesan may be purif iei by a healthy and vigorous affection. Marion de Lorme is in a different sphere almost what Quasimodo is in Notre Dame. Delicate though the thesis was at that time, Hugo treate1 it with incomparable skill ani delicacy. . Marion's love for Didier, the young plebian, the foun1- e. ling, wins her away from all the allu~ments of her former life.

The struggle she endures ~hen pursued by the proud courtiers, who seek by every concatvable means to win her back to her life of shame, and the equally terrible stru~gle of her lover, who believes her pure ani innocent, bQt who hears her name drag~ed in the mire, form the tragedy of the play. Through her suffering she makes expiation. Then when Didier is to go to the scaffold by order of Richelieu for a triff ling offense, she makes agoniz- ing efforts to save his life. All the while one of tne execution- ers, a dissolute courtier, is offerin~ her his freeiom ift she wi 11 step back for one brief moment into her oli life of shame. In the final scene, Didier ref uses to accept the freedom she has Wo'lt.. at so iear a cost. In his dying hour he forgives her, saying he cannot face eternity without her parion. In the scaffoli scene.,,

Hugo gives us one of the ra'Jst impassi..011e.d pleas in all literature for the ~reat class of those once p~re, "an~ea du ciel que la terre a f letris." Diiier says:

"Va, si t 11 m~as tromp~: c'est par exees d'amourl

Et ta chute d'ailleurs, l'as-tu pas ex~i~e?

Ta mere en ton berceau t 'a peut-etre oribl i~e 34

Comme moi. Pauvre enfant! toute Jeune, il• auront

Vendu ton innooencern

And as if speaking for those who would carelessly trample on these sin~ul, yet suffering hearts, he says,

.1tPardonne;moi, te dis-Jel

C'est moi qui fua m~ohant. Dieu te frappe et t'afflige

Par moi. Tu daigneras encore ple11rer ma mort.

Avoir fait ~9n malheur, va, c'eat un grand re111ordl"

" An~elo.

In "Ang~lo", which, h·?wever, 1oe3 not rise to the heights of iramatic feeling of Marion ie Lorme, Hugo seeks to present the u~iversal femininity in two types--the woman in society an1 the woman out of society,-~"la femme inc0mprise". Toe scene is laid

.in Padua .in 1549. La Tisbe, a. clever actress, is playing "Rosa- monio" on the stage where she has won tne illicit affection of Angelo, the tyra:nt, the Po1esta of Pa'.iua. It is tha irony of fate that a character so hari, so inexorable, shouli be namei Angel~

Mep.histopheles woald h!lve become him better.. The f~zied jealoasy of Angelo has forced the actress to nave the man she loves disguise as her brother. But for th~t he couli not stay in the Poieata's dominions. La Tisbe's love ror Rololfo is not requitei; for years before, he had given his he~rt to the beautiful princess Catarina

Bragaiini, who all unknown to him has been sold in marria~e to

Angelo. Gatarina lives virtually as a pr~son~r in her lordly towers, giving most of her time to prayers in her chapel to as- suage her grief ani her lo~~ing for her long-lost lover. Suddenly 35 he appears one ni~ht on her balcony sin~ing his old love-son~.

La Tisbe, forewarned by a spy, gains entrance by means of a secret golden key she has begged from the Poiesta's watch-charm.

There she learns th~t Rodolfo's heart beloo~s to another. Her intense desire for revenge is quickly met by a counteracting passion when La Tisbe discovers above the prie-1ieu of Catarina a bronze cr1cifix carved with her name, Tisbe. All her life the actress has been searching this crucifix which her ~ipsy mother, condemned to d~Hit h, had ~ i ven to a lit t 1 e princess whose entreaties hal saved her life. A passion born of her love for her dead mother has led the rich actress through all the years to search for.an opportunity to repay that kindness to her mother. Henceforth La

Tisbe, overcomin~ her jealousy, is animated by one thought, to save her lover and also the woman he loves from death at the hands of the enraged Podesta. As the service for the dead is be­ ing chanted, La Tisbe spirits away the boiy of her rival from the tomb awaiting it ani resto~es her to Rodolfo. Her task accomplish­ ed, her debt of gratitu1e for her mother repaii, La Tisbe, still ioubtei an1 misunierstood by ~atarina, irinks the poison intended for he I" r i v a I. La. Ti s be i o es not , as Mar i on i e Lor me , f i mi r e de mp+ tion tbrou~h sufferin~, but she shows that in the heart of even the courtesan thera is place for a ~reat ani generous love an1 a noble selt-s~orif ice~

Ruy Blas. Hugo's last dramatic triumph before his final failure in "Les Burgraves" and his retirement from the stage, was "Ruy 36

Blas". !he subject matter~ like that of Hernani, is taken from

Spain, in which country Hugo becam~ deeply interested during his

residence in Madrid as a boy. From a friend of the poet~we learn that the conception of the 1rama first occured to Hugo while reai­

in~ Rousseau's Confessions, in which Rousseau tells of his secret

love for Madame de Brei!, at whose table he was a waiter. The germinal idea is much like that of "La Nouvelle Heloise" where we have the love of a man of humble birth for a laiy of high rank.

The name is probably taken from Le Sage's "Gil Blas". Thls, c~­

bined with•"Ruy", a corruption of "aodrigo", the famous Cid Ca~

peador, may well be an attempt on Hu~o's part to combine, eaen in name, the nobleman and the peasant. In the subject of Hernani and of Ruy Blas Hugo found ~ scope for one of those brilliant antitheses in which be takes such

delight. In his pref ace to Ruy Blas he tells us that he wishei to fill Hernani with the soft raiiance of the jawn; and to cover Ruy Blas with the shadows of the evening twilight. In HernaniJthe

sun of the House of Austria is risin~,for Don Carlos was born in

1500~ In Ruy Blas, exactly two cent~ries later, the sun of Au~ tria is setting. Ruy Blas has to 1eal with the decadence of

Spanish power ani the weakness an~ 1e·generacy of the Spanish Court

ioward the end of the a7th century.

In its broai human inte~est, Ruy Blas presents to us a

lackey who is passionately in love with a queen. Tbou~h her name

is DoBa Maria of Neubur~, this queen is not a German type. In her, 37

Hugo has depicted the sad, severe, gentle Maria Louise of Orleans, the daughter of Henrietta of England, who was historically the

first wife of Francis ~I of Spain.' The loneliness of the life of

the young queen at a foreign court, ignored and shunned by her husband who spends his life in the chase, is further intensified

by the exacting, overbearin~ attitu1e of the Camarera Mayor, the

cruel Duchess of Albuquerque~ Our sympathy for her is enlisted in the first scene when we learn that the powerful but unscrupu­ lous prime-minister, Don Salluste, has vowed the humiliation of

the queen. That the queen, youn~ thou~h she is, is no mere court

puppet, we learn from Don Salluste himself, when he a~knowledges that he has been given the alternative of banishment or marriage with a simple mai1, "une fille de rien", whom he has dishonored. He accepts banishment and bears into exile the grim determination for revenge. When he asks his cousin, Don Cesar 1e Bazan, to aid him in accomplishing the queen'3 iownfall, Don Cesar presents a

fine type of the chivalrous ~entleman, '.l.Ui adventurer, a bandit,

though he is. Throwin~ the gold at Don 3alluste's feet, he shows

his enra~ej feelings in the line, "Je vis avac les loups, no~

ave: les serp~nts~~ Ruy Blas. the l•ckey with tne ambitions ani passions of

a king, is the instrument t., be use:l for the qu~

It is a cunnmn~, iemon-like plan--that of making the queen fall in love with his servant. Don Salluste knows the humiliation to her heart ani the torture to her priie such an act would be. The

e~evation of Ruy Blas in the short peri~d of six months to the 38

highest position of power in the state, is one of the idealistio The pensive melancholy · inconsistences of romantic literature~ • caused by his love for the beautiful queen, who is a married wo­ man, ani therefore for him an unattainable object, for whom be can only dream and suffer, is another mark of the romantic hero.

Unlike the ebatterton of De Vi~ny, he does not meditate suici1e

from the first. He uses his hi~h place as minister to save the

empire from the graspin~ courtiers and thus by his brilliant and patriotic services shows himself wortjy of the gratitude an1 de­ votion of her majesty. The love of the queen, tinged with melancholy and im­ bue1 with sentimentalism, is decidedly romantic. It is love

containing not one element of suggestion of sens~ality. Inspired by this love, Ruy Blas can undertake and accomplish all things • • Purifie1 by it, he is reaiy to sacrifice his happiness, yea life

itself, to save her from a breath of iis~raae. Inspire1 by her faith ani love, Ruy Blas is strong ani heroic. Separatei from

her anj f~ae to face with the tra~eiy of his lowly birth and sta-

tion he is a melancholy weakling. In a ir~ma depicting the power-

ful strug~le between two such men as Ruy Blas and the iiabolical

Marquis~ of Finlas, the queen takes necessarily a suboriinate part. Yet she is by no means a mere abstraction; nor is she a weakling,

a victim of the ma~hinations of bthers. We feel that it is her strength of character, her inviolable virtue, as well as the pro-

found love she inspirei in Ruy Blas, which saves ani frees he~ at last from her frightful enemy, Don Salluste. 39

Henri III filt Sa Gour.

In Alexander Dumas~we have a still greater variety of

Romantic heroines. Dumas w&s v~ry fond of the pseudo-historic themes. His historical studies were of the impressiinist nature, "a mere nail," he says, "to hang his pictures on". Yet

Dumas does no real defiance to the historical setting. His first drama, "Henri I!I et Sa Cour", while it caused a great furore among those whose ears had grown weary of the perfect platitudes spoken by Greek an1 Roman heroes in the Classic Drama, has per-

haps the .least merit amon~ his well known plays. It is a picture of the court life of Henry· an1 his Medicean mother. La Reine M\re is, true to her historical counterpart, unscrupulous, heart- less, successful. The Duchess of Guise is so pitiful a character that she is almost ludicrous. She could face death but she could .so not stand pinching. She lacks moral independence. She isAcom-

pletely under the domination of her over-r9li~ious, fanatical bus- band, the Duke de 3uise, that our sympathy turns to 3t. Megrin,

her young lover, lurej to his ieath by a letter written by her own hand under the compulsion of her jealous husband. The episoie of the han1kerchief with which the Duke de Guise incriminates his W"ife pales in aomparison with the han1kerchief episode in Othello.

In An~~le we have a very appealing type of girl-heroine, well•born, rich, as sweet and innocent in character as she is fair in face. - After her father's death, which occured .during her baby­

hooi, she was pre~ctically ieserte1 by her pretty but superficial 40 mother, who left her to the care of a maiden aunt. Her mother is too busy socially to give more than an occasional flying visit to Ang~le. Thus she has hungered all her life for the affection which is the birth-right of every child. Across the patheay of this angel-child, less than six- teen years old, comes Alfrei i'Alvimar, one of those hideous types of men called the "filchelle ies Femmes", a man who climbs

to money and influence ani power by means of wom•n. This type of man is not eiclusively Romantic. It reappears often in the modern 1rama as in Ibsen's ~eague of Youth". It is scarcely

possible for Ang~le to escape the toils of such a man. To make

matters worse, ~hen Alfrei asks for· her hani the silly mother

refuses because An~•le'~ early marria~e might blight the mother's marriage prospects. The 1enoument comes on the night of the ball

announcin~ the e~~agement of the mother to tha seiuoer of Ang~le.

We are glai that the moth~r a~akens ~t last to her criminal neg~ lect of her iaughter, ani seems sounjly convertei from her folly.

Henri Muller, the youn~ artist-physician, who has all his life

worshipped Ang~le but has never jarej to speak of his love because

he is a victim of tuberculo3is, avenges the wron~ by killing Al­

frei j'Alvimar in a 1uel an1 then marries An~~le, to save her chili

from ille~itimacy.

Maiemoiselle 1e Belle-Isle. In Mlle. le Belle-IsleJwe have I think Dumas's greatest comedy. It is a picture of the times of Louis XV and the prof lig-

ate Duke le Richelieu. ~ichelieu is giftej, attractive, versatile 41 and yet the man of whom it is said that he brushed a~ainst no woman's life without leaving her reputation tarni~he~. Eks

Marquise 1e Prie, courtesan and favorite of the prime minister, is his confi1ant. Into the power of these two comes the young and beautiful Mlle. Mars ie Belle-Isle.' Her father and two broth­ ers have been languishing in the Bastile three years as political

prisoners, wh~le her mother has died of grief. Her eagerness to

obtain clemency or even an interview with her father is so intense that we almost hold our breath when she comes to plea'.i that f avbr of Richelieu. To m.ake the situation more excitin{_,the unscrupu­ lous Marquise ie Prie, to whose appartments Richelieu holds a secret key, invites Mlle. De Belle-Isle to be her guest and poses

as her friend and protectre~s. Staniing with a group of young

courtiers_,Richelieu makes a wager to obta.i!'l a renie~vous within

twenty-four hours with the first ~irl, wife, or wiiow.whom they see, provided only she ba beautiful. Like Jephtha's jaughter,

~Ile ie Bell3-Isle appears. :n the ~r~JP is a young lieutenant

w ho i s t o ma!'.' r y M11 e ~ Ma r.s i n t a r e e fa. y s. In t he st r i.l ~ g 1 e of t he s e

four stron~ characters, the neroine, in the strength of her in-

violable virtue ani of her tactful innocence a'ainst"' Richelieu. an1 the MarqJise ia Prie, past-masters in the art of sejuction an1 sin, her lover in his efforts to believe her true :against many

apparent signs of tier ~uilt, this jraraa approaches the heights of trage1y. That the heroine is not of the Classic type, we may

be sure, since she wins not only clemency for a~i an interview

with her father, but the aimission o: ~~pW1!i.trt1 from Richelieu

himself before her affian~ej husbani;-- 42

»Je dia M. le chevalier, que Vll~ de Belle tale eat l'an~e le plus pur qui aoii jamaia desoendu du oiel et que Je demande

~ ~tre oonduit ~ aes pieds pour m•incliner devant ~lle; pour obt9nir mon pardon de •• bouohe.»

Les Demoiselles de St. Cyr "Les Demoiselles je St. Cyr" is pure comedy of the light­ er type, and yet charming in its jainty, attractive qualities. There is probably to be seen nowhere in Classic irama a virtuous heroine pursuing a man as these young la1ies from ·st. Cyr, und& the instigation of Ma1ame de Maintenon pursue even to the court of Madrid and finally win the affections of their offended hus- ban'is. The comic .effect is enhanc-31 by the symmetry of the scenes

and the opposition of the characters. 'rwo acts are cons~crated to the clandestine courtship and f orcei marriage, two to the reconciliation. The two heroines at the court of King Philip of

Spain are aiventurous, ro~antic, y9t 1ecideily clever and womanly.

La Tour de Nesle~ h~1-.ol ta . Aft er t h 3 s e t wo ch a r mi n g 1 ram as,.) i t i s"' :i .ascend i n t o t he

1 a. r kn e s s an :i '11 y st er y , i n t o t he s 1 i me an :l f i l t h ·of " La Tour j e Ne s 1 a.,, "

t he ch a. mbe r of de at h • It i s a s a 1 comm~ nt a r y on t he t as t e of th e

theatre ~oer~ of that :lay that this was Dumas's greatest popul~ · triumph. La iour :le Nesle is a gloomy tower on the Seine in which

mysterious lights appear at ni~ht an:l from undern9ath its turrets

fall night after ni~ht into the :lark waters the bo:lies of young

44

Fantasio In Alfre·:i de M11sset> we find Romanticism in a much less doctrinaire type than in H11go. T.here is still defiance ot Classic rules, but De Musset's 1efiance is frolicsome and witty, not mar­ tial, like Hugo's. His d~amas belong to the Romantio school only in date and in the Lyric inspiration of the author--that is, De

Musset fills his work with his own emotions, his own personality.

He is one of those ra~e poets who know how -to paint the charm and ,ga~ty of young girls. In li'antasioJwe have a mixture of fancy and reality, of caprice and tr11th, which make it typical of De

Musset. The scene is laid in Munich. Elsbeth, tne kin~'s daugh­ ter, is to be married for re•sons of state to the idiotic Prin~ of Mantua. She sneds tears over the marriage but does not attempt to avail herself of her father's offer to spare her this sacri­ fice. "Fantasio" disguised as the king's jester, saves her from the tragedy of such a marriage. m1sbeth is truly romantic. She is more than that, she is 1'0manesque. She has fed her mind on the sentimental novels provi1ed by her governess, and is rea1y for any escapaja provided only it be romantic and ajventurous.

IV. Con cl us ion-.

Comparing then tne he~oines of the Romantic school in the plays stuiie1 ~ith those of the Jlassic Drama, the following deductions may be made. 1. Romanticism furnishes a much la.rger variety of tl er o i ne s • When t he s ha c k 1 es of C1 a s s i c tr a ge j y , w i t h it s n a r row limitations as to characters suitable for artistic treatment,

46 iay and treating intensively on~ mood an1 one orisis, could not represent de·velopment. Romantic ism presents many moods and many crises and the development of character resulting. In Ang~le, the foolish, frivolous mother is won aaay from her selfishness, though it takes months to Bo it. 7. Romantic treatment of love furnishes a marked con- trast to Classicism. Here love is not a weakness to be overcome. Li ke a mi g ht y t or r en t , i t car r i e s ever yt hi n g b e f ore it • It di s­ d a ins all social barriers. It is genuine romzntic love, based on instinct. t1Aimer, c'est vivre, c'est agir." It defies analysis. It refuses to bow in servility before reason. Even in the "Cid", which was comdemned by the French Academy for its Romantic tendencies, and which is here cited because it is the least servile to tradition among Classic jramas, we fini a remarkable example of the attitude of the two schools in the treatment of love. L'Infante says, "L'amour est un tyran qui n'~pargne personne," but she hastens to ajj as reason why she cannot marry Rodrigue;- "J'6pandrai mon sang

Avant que j_e m1 abaisse a :iementer mon rang.

Je me iis toujours qu~~tant f ille de roi

Tout autre qu'un monarque est in1i~ne de moi." Contrast this with Dona Sol, who spurns the hand of an emperor to follow the iictates of her heart. Chim~ne also makes the sacrifice of her love for Rodri~ue to the juty of avenging her father and refuses to yield to her love until she has been persuaded, almost 47 forced by the king to feel that duty. and "f'9aaon deaand it of her.

This is pure rationali~m in Chim~ne. That which thinks puts to silence that which feels. Chim~ne analyses her affections. Her philosophic reasoning is worthy of an expert lawyer. Doffa Sol does not know the ori~in and source of her love:-

•Etes-voua mon d~mon ou mon ange?

Je ne sais;~· Maia je auis votre eselave. Elooutez

Je auie ~ voua. Pourquoi tais-je ainsi? Je l'ignore.• But there is no less heroism exhibited in Hernani than in the Cid.

Both are permeated by the same Spanish sense of honor. In the

Cid~it is heroic human nature which Corneille pTesents. In Her­ nani it is the same heroic human nature side by side with a wild­ ly passionate human nature. This presentation of life in its many-sidedness is the glory of the Romantic school.

Hugo ma.int a ins·~ the Romantic thesis, that a courte san.3 even a moral monster :iay be completely transformed 0y the reieem­ ing power of love. In ~~ucr~ce Borgia" it is maternal love th~ can redeem from great moral obliquity. In "Marion de Lorme~ it is love for her lover Diiier. In La Tisbe.J it is love for a ·jead mother combined with love for her lover. None of these heroines dare approach the sublime an1 statue.sque p>3rf'9ction of Pauline, of Monime, or Andromaque. But they certainly approach nearer to real life. What they lack in mor~l perfection~ in the iomination of the head over the heart, tney make up for by the sympathy which they manifest toward all the down-trodien or oppressed, and by the sweet sympathy th31y inspire in those who contemplate them. 48

Whatever were the exaggerations an1 extrava~anoes of the Romantic School, these are reflected in its heroines. What­ ever ~lory it deserves for breaking the shackles of formalism, of smugness, and repression, and for usherin~ in an age of freedom an1 liberty in art, that glory it owes in part to the charm and sweetness of such heroines as Do~a Sol and La Tisbe and Mademoiselle de Belle Isle.