Don Quixote - Part I - Page 376/400

"I remember saying one day to one of these obstinate fellows, 'Tell me,

do you not recollect that a few years ago, there were three tragedies

acted in Spain, written by a famous poet of these kingdoms, which were

such that they filled all who heard them with admiration, delight, and

interest, the ignorant as well as the wise, the masses as well as the

higher orders, and brought in more money to the performers, these three

alone, than thirty of the best that have been since produced?'

"'No doubt,' replied the actor in question, 'you mean the "Isabella," the

"Phyllis," and the "Alexandra."'

"'Those are the ones I mean,' said I; 'and see if they did not observe

the principles of art, and if, by observing them, they failed to show

their superiority and please all the world; so that the fault does not

lie with the public that insists upon nonsense, but with those who don't

know how to produce something else. "The Ingratitude Revenged" was not

nonsense, nor was there any in "The Numantia," nor any to be found in

"The Merchant Lover," nor yet in "The Friendly Fair Foe," nor in some

others that have been written by certain gifted poets, to their own fame

and renown, and to the profit of those that brought them out;' some

further remarks I added to these, with which, I think, I left him rather

dumbfoundered, but not so satisfied or convinced that I could disabuse

him of his error."

"You have touched upon a subject, senor canon," observed the curate here,

"that has awakened an old enmity I have against the plays in vogue at the

present day, quite as strong as that which I bear to the books of

chivalry; for while the drama, according to Tully, should be the mirror

of human life, the model of manners, and the image of the truth, those

which are presented now-a-days are mirrors of nonsense, models of folly,

and images of lewdness. For what greater nonsense can there be in

connection with what we are now discussing than for an infant to appear

in swaddling clothes in the first scene of the first act, and in the

second a grown-up bearded man? Or what greater absurdity can there be

than putting before us an old man as a swashbuckler, a young man as a

poltroon, a lackey using fine language, a page giving sage advice, a king

plying as a porter, a princess who is a kitchen-maid? And then what shall

I say of their attention to the time in which the action they represent

may or can take place, save that I have seen a play where the first act

began in Europe, the second in Asia, the third finished in Africa, and no

doubt, had it been in four acts, the fourth would have ended in America,

and so it would have been laid in all four quarters of the globe? And if

truth to life is the main thing the drama should keep in view, how is it

possible for any average understanding to be satisfied when the action is

supposed to pass in the time of King Pepin or Charlemagne, and the

principal personage in it they represent to be the Emperor Heraclius who

entered Jerusalem with the cross and won the Holy Sepulchre, like Godfrey

of Bouillon, there being years innumerable between the one and the other?

or, if the play is based on fiction and historical facts are introduced,

or bits of what occurred to different people and at different times mixed

up with it, all, not only without any semblance of probability, but with

obvious errors that from every point of view are inexcusable? And the

worst of it is, there are ignorant people who say that this is

perfection, and that anything beyond this is affected refinement. And

then if we turn to sacred dramas--what miracles they invent in them! What

apocryphal, ill-devised incidents, attributing to one saint the miracles

of another! And even in secular plays they venture to introduce miracles

without any reason or object except that they think some such miracle, or

transformation as they call it, will come in well to astonish stupid

people and draw them to the play. All this tends to the prejudice of the

truth and the corruption of history, nay more, to the reproach of the

wits of Spain; for foreigners who scrupulously observe the laws of the

drama look upon us as barbarous and ignorant, when they see the absurdity

and nonsense of the plays we produce. Nor will it be a sufficient excuse

to say that the chief object well-ordered governments have in view when

they permit plays to be performed in public is to entertain the people

with some harmless amusement occasionally, and keep it from those evil

humours which idleness is apt to engender; and that, as this may be

attained by any sort of play, good or bad, there is no need to lay down

laws, or bind those who write or act them to make them as they ought to

be made, since, as I say, the object sought for may be secured by any

sort. To this I would reply that the same end would be, beyond all

comparison, better attained by means of good plays than by those that are

not so; for after listening to an artistic and properly constructed play,

the hearer will come away enlivened by the jests, instructed by the

serious parts, full of admiration at the incidents, his wits sharpened by

the arguments, warned by the tricks, all the wiser for the examples,

inflamed against vice, and in love with virtue; for in all these ways a

good play will stimulate the mind of the hearer be he ever so boorish or

dull; and of all impossibilities the greatest is that a play endowed with

all these qualities will not entertain, satisfy, and please much more

than one wanting in them, like the greater number of those which are

commonly acted now-a-days. Nor are the poets who write them to be blamed

for this; for some there are among them who are perfectly well aware of

their faults, and know what they ought to do; but as plays have become a

salable commodity, they say, and with truth, that the actors will not buy

them unless they are after this fashion; and so the poet tries to adapt

himself to the requirements of the actor who is to pay him for his work.

And that this is the truth may be seen by the countless plays that a most

fertile wit of these kingdoms has written, with so much brilliancy, so

much grace and gaiety, such polished versification, such choice language,

such profound reflections, and in a word, so rich in eloquence and

elevation of style, that he has filled the world with his fame; and yet,

in consequence of his desire to suit the taste of the actors, they have

not all, as some of them have, come as near perfection as they ought.

Others write plays with such heedlessness that, after they have been

acted, the actors have to fly and abscond, afraid of being punished, as

they often have been, for having acted something offensive to some king

or other, or insulting to some noble family. All which evils, and many

more that I say nothing of, would be removed if there were some

intelligent and sensible person at the capital to examine all plays

before they were acted, not only those produced in the capital itself,

but all that were intended to be acted in Spain; without whose approval,

seal, and signature, no local magistracy should allow any play to be

acted. In that case actors would take care to send their plays to the

capital, and could act them in safety, and those who write them would be

more careful and take more pains with their work, standing in awe of

having to submit it to the strict examination of one who understood the

matter; and so good plays would be produced and the objects they aim at

happily attained; as well the amusement of the people, as the credit of

the wits of Spain, the interest and safety of the actors, and the saving

of trouble in inflicting punishment on them. And if the same or some

other person were authorised to examine the newly written books of

chivalry, no doubt some would appear with all the perfections you have

described, enriching our language with the gracious and precious treasure

of eloquence, and driving the old books into obscurity before the light

of the new ones that would come out for the harmless entertainment, not

merely of the idle but of the very busiest; for the bow cannot be always

bent, nor can weak human nature exist without some lawful amusement."