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SHAKESPEARE    IN  FRANCE 


BY   THE   SAME   AUTHOR. 


LITERARY  HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH 
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ENGLISH  WAYFARING  LIFE  IN  THE  MIDDLE 
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THE     ENGLISH     NOVEL     IN     THE     TIME     OF 
SHAKESPEARE.     Translated  by  Elizabeth  Lee. 

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SHAKESPEARE  IN 
FRANCE 

UNDER  THE  zANCIEN  REGIME 


J.    J.    JUSSERAND 


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TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I 
EARLY     DATS 

PAGE 

I.  Ancient  Literary  Relations  between  France  and 
England. — Praise  of  Chaucer  by  Eustache  Deschamps — 
Opportunities  for  the  two  countries  to  know  each  other  : 
wars,  alliances,  voyages,  embassies,  exiles,  religious  pro- 
scriptions—  English  students  and  learned  men  at  the 
University  of"  Paris — In  France,  only  the  Latin  works  of" 
English  authors  are  known  and  admired — Frenchmen  in 
England — Printers  :  Barbier,  Pynson — Guide-books  and 
travelling  notes  :  Paradin,  Perlin,  &c.  ;  appalling  accounts 
of  the  state  of  the  country — Character  of"  the  inhabitants ; 
they  are  changeful  and  ferocious — Journeys  of  illustrious 
men  of  letters  :  Ronsard,  Grevin,  Brantome,  Du  Bartas  ; 
Brantome  attends  a  Mask ...  ...  ...  ...  ...        i 

II.  Different  Results  of  these  Relations  in  the 
two  Countries. — French  literature  known  and  imitated 
in  London  :  Skelton,  Barclay,  Wyatt,  Surrey,  Spenser — 
French  fashions  at  the  English  Court        ...  ...  ...      18 

English  literature  unknown  in  France — The  Anglo- 
French  grammars  and  dictionaries  are  for  English  use  : 
Barclay,  Palsgrave,  Elyot,  Saint-Lien  and  his  dialogues, 
Cotgrave  and  Howell — Meurier's  school  at  Antwerp — 
Elementary  methods  for  merchants — Panurge's  English 20 

In  France,  however,  the  importance  of  foreign  languages 
is  recognized  :  opinions  of  Montaigne,  Ronsard,  &c.  ;  but 
only  Italian  and  Spanish  are  studied — Henri  Estienne — 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

Du  Bartas,  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  James  VI. — This 
gnorance  is  not  caused  by  national  animosities  ;  the 
great  enemy  of  France  in  those  times  is  the  Spaniard — 
Ever  since  the  Conquest  there  exists  a  traditional  belief 
that  all  men  of  note  in  England  speak  Latin  or  French  : 
Morus,  Camdenus,  Seldenus,  &c.  —  English  protests, 
Starkey 

III.  Foreign  Influences  on  the  French  Stage  in  the 
time  of  Shakespeare. — They  are  solely  Italian  and  Spanish 
— Starting  point  of  dramatic  art  in  France  and  England — 
Authorised  critics  in  both  countries  are  in  favour  of  rules : 
Sackville,  Bacon,  Jonson — French  classical  tragedies  trans- 
lated into  English  —  Classical  plays  at  the  Court  of 
Elizabeth    ... 

Literature  of  the  Valois  period  ;  Rabelais  and  Ronsard 
— Examples  of  survival  on  the  stage  of  mediaeval 
"gothism" — The  same  subjects  treated  in  Paris  and 
London:  Romeo,  Cesar,  Antoine,  Pandoste  ("Winter's 
Tale  ") — National  history  turned  into  dramas — Opinion 
of  Ronsard  and  of  La  Fresnaye — Tragedies  by  Bounin, 
Chantelouve,  Claude  Billard,  Montchrestien,  &c. — Rules 
and  liberties  :  Jodelle,  Gamier,  Grevin   ... 

English  players  in  Paris — They  perform  at  the  Hotel 
de  Bourgogne,  1598 — Clowneries  and  music — English 
comedians  in  Germany — At  Fontainebleau,  they  play  a 
bloody  tragedy  before  Henri  IV.  and  his  son — Great 
impression  produced  on   the  Dauphin 

An  understanding  would  seem  to  be  possible  :  Sidney 
at  the  Louvre  at  the  same  time  as  Ronsard  ;  Sackville 
and  Ben  Jonson  in  Paris — Their  English  works  remain 
unknown — Buchanan's  Latin  plays  alone  are  familiar  to 
French  men  of  letters 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    TIME    OF  LOUIS    QUJTORZE 

I.  French  Independents.  —  Diverging  tendencies  of 
the  two  dramatic  arts — A  group  of  French  independents, 
under  Louis   XIII.,  continues,  however,  to  resemble  the 


TABLE  OF  COXTEXTS  Hi 

PAGE 

English  dramatists,  but  without  knowing  them — Hardy, 
Schelandre,  Cyrano,  Rotrou — Scene-shiftings  and  "simul- 
taneous scenery" — Scenery  of  "  Pandoste  "  ("Winter's 
Tale")  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne — Opinion  of  Sidney — 
Influence  of  the  Spanish  drama — Lope  de  Vega — 
Dramatic  ideal  of  Schelandre,  Ogier,  d'Urfe,  La 
Calprenede,  Puget  de  la  Serre — The  use  of  messengers 
blamed,  praise  of  prose  and  blank  verse,  historical  dramas, 
bloody  sights  —  Shakespearean  audacities,  Cyrano  — 
Shakespearean    fancies,    Rotrou,   Ouinault  ...  ...      62 

II.  Triumph  of  the  Regulars. — Vagabonds  disappear 
— Their  spirit  survives  in  secondary  genres — The  nation 
longs  for  regularity  in  government  and  in  art — Richelieu, 
Chapelain,  Mairet — "  Sophonisbe,"  1634 — Corneille  and 
rules  :  he  follows  them  because  the  nation  wants  them — 
Shakespeare  and  his  "lack  of  arte";  he  perseveres 
because  he  has  the  public  with  him — Irregulars  derided 
on  the  French  stage  ;  the  "  Visionnaires,"  1637 — 
D'Aubignac's  theories  ;  his  practice  ;  the  "  Pucelle 
d'Orleans"  83 

Increasing  exigencies — Racine  and  Moliere  blamed  for 
too  much  independence  —  The  literary  ideal  of  the 
seventeenth  century  ;  Boileau  and  La  Bruyere — Dignity, 
nobleness,  and  austerity  of  that  ideal  —  Port-Royal  ; 
Bossuet — Dictionary  of  the  Academy  and*  selection  of 
words  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    102 

III.  French  Relations  with  England  before  the 
Restoration. — English  continues  to  be  ignored  in 
France  ;  all  the  favour  is  for  Italian  and  Spanish  : 
Corneille,  Racine,  Madame  de  Sevigne — Corneille  and 
England  —  Racine's  notes  on  England — Boileau  and 
foreign  literatures — French,   the   universal  language.     ...    115 

First  translations  from  English  ;  Hall's  "  Characters  "  ; 
Bacon's  "  Essavs  "  ;  Sidney's  "  Arcadia  "  —  Translators' 
quarrels — Disdain  of  ambassadors  for  the  English  tongue 
— The  "Journal  des  Savants"  secures  an  interpreter,  1665.    120 

Political  and  social  relations — French  literary  men  in 
London  :  Boisrobert,  Voiture — Horror  caused  by  the 
institution  of  the  Commonwealth  :  ode  by  Boileau — 
Saint-Amant  in  London  and  his  satire  on   England  :  his 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


PAGE 


opinion  on  the  English  drama,  on  English  actors,  on  Ben 
Jonson  ;  on  plays,  interludes,  masks,  bloody  dramas,  1644 
— Coulon's  guide-book,  1654        ...  ...  ...  ...    123 

IV.  Relations  with  England  after  the  Restora- 
tion.— Cavalier  poets  in  France  ;  Frenchmen  of"  mark  at 
the  Court  of  Charles  II. — Louis  XIV.  asks  for  information 
about  English  literary  and  learned  men — La  Fontaine 
dreams  of  a  journey  to  England — Saint  Evrcmond  and 
Waller        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    130 

Guide-books  and  travelling  notes  ;  appreciations  more 
detailed  and  less  severe — Thomas  Corneille  and  his 
"Dictionnaire  Universel  " — Sorbieres  and  his  "Relation" 
— The  country,  the  women,  the  gladiators  ;  singular 
nature  of  the  institutions  and  inhabitants — Beauty  and 
"  ferocity  "  of  the  women — Le  Pays'  impressions — In- 
fluence of  the  "soil  " — Football  and  "  coacres  " — Letters 
of  Muralt  ;  guide-books  by  Misson,  Beeverel,  Moreau  de 
Brasey  ;  dialogues  by  Miege  ;  remarks  of  G.  L.  Lesage  ; 
impressions  of  Chappuzeau — The  English  language — 
Coffee-houses  and  theatres — The  stage  free  in  London, 
encumbered  with  benches  in   Paris  ...  ...  ...    136 

The  two  dramatic  arts — Shakespeare  remodelled  in 
London  ;  Racine  disdained  ;  Corneille  and  Moliere 
transformed — Saint-Evremond  ignores  Shakespeare,  but 
knows  Jonson — Sorbieres  carries  back  to  France  the 
Duchess  of  Newcastle's  plays — Muralt  and  Moreau  de 
Brasey  mention  Shakespeare  (but  their  works  are  only 
published  in  the  eighteenth  century)        ...  ...  ...    158 

V.  England  better  known  :  first  idea  of  Shake- 
speare. —  Histories  of  England  :  Vanel,  Rosemond, 
Larrey — Translations  from  English  ;  Rycaut  and  the 
"  Bajazet  "  of  Racine  —  Addison's  "  Spectator  "  in 
French,  17 14 — Literary  periodicals  take  more  notice 
of  England — First  English  play  adapted  for  the  French 
stage  :  Otway's  "  Venice  Preserved  "  turned  into  a 
"  Manlius  "  by  La  Fosse,  1698 — The  "  Fcramc  poussee 
about,"   taken  from  Vanbrugh,  1700       ...  ...  ...    165 

Shakespeare  crosses  the  sea — A  copy  of  his  works  in 
Louis  XIV.'s  library  ;  another  in  Fouquct's — Opinion  of 
the  king's  librarian   on    Shakespeare — Shakespeare's  name 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  v 

PAGE 

printed  for  the  first  time  in  a  French  book,    1685-86 — 
Judgment  of  Boyer  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    170 

Apogee  and  decline  of  the  classic  drama  in  France      ...    178 


CHAPTER   III 
THE    EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY— PARI   1 

1715-1750 

I.  Towards  Anglomania. — Increasing  attention  given 
to  English  letters — Matthew  Prior  in  Paris — French  Review 
solely  devoted  to  English  works,  171 7 — Various  Reviews 
andTranslations — The  Englishman  on  the  stage  ;  French 
and  English  characters,  Boissy,  1727 — Marivaux  and  the 

"  Spectateur  Francois  "  ;  his  "  He  de  la  Raison,"    1727...    180 

Deitouches  charge  d'affaires  in  London — Influence  of 
England  on  Destouches'  plays — Abbe  Prevost  in  London  ; 
his  descriptions  of  England  ;  he   learns  the  language  on 
account  of  Mrs.  Oldfield — His  judgment  on  the  English 
drama  and  on  Shakespeare — The  celebrated  Figg — English 
manners,  "mylords"  and  men  of  the  people — Rudeness 
of  the  people — La  Condamine's  experience — The  "  Pour 
et  Contre "  of  Prevost,  1733         ...  ...  ...  ...    188 

Voltaire  in  London,  1726-29 — His  impressions  on 
landing — His  opinion  on  the  English  language — He  knows 
Pope,  Swift,  and  all  the  worldly  and  literary  society — 
He  sees  "Julius  Caesar"  performed — His  "  Lettres  sur  les 
Anglais ;"  irony  and  paradoxes — Satire  on  the  ideas  accepted 
in  France — Importance  of  literary  art  in  his  eyes  :  that  is  y 
his  real  religion — Judgment  on  English  dramatic  art  and  ' 
on  Shakespeare — The  Gardens  of  Marly — Great  stir 
caused  by  the  "  Lettres  " — Protestations  raised  by  them — 
Grevin  versus  Shakespeare  ...  ...  ...  ...    200 

II.  The  Knowledge  of  Shakespeare  Spreads. — 
Opiniono£-Mx>nieaquieu — Historical  dictionaries — Essays 
and  criticisms  by  Abbe  Prevost,  Louis  Riccoboni,  Abbe 
Le  Blanc  :  the  magic  of  Shakespeare's  style — Opinion  of 
Louis  Racine         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    214 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

First  attempt  to  translate  Shakespeare's  works,  La 
Place,  1745 — His  "Discours  sur  le  Theatre  Anglois " 
— Success  of  the   undertaking     ...  ...  ...  ...    220 

III.  Influence  of  Shakespeare  and  of  the  English 
Drama  on  the  French  Stage. — Survival  of  the  spirit 
of  liberty^The  opera,  its  scope,  scenic  effects^  and 
changes  of  place^-Uoncessions  made  formerly  by  Abbe 
d'AuBTgnac,  Thomas  Corneille,  Boileau — An  opera  by 
Boileau  and  Racine — Perrault's  "  Parallele  " — The  liberal 
programme  :  emancipation  of  the  vocabulary  —  Protests 
of  La  Motte-Houdard  against  verse,  narratives,  confidants, 

and  rules    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    224 

Dramatists  follow  theorists  from  afar — They  seek  for 
novelty,  but  without  departing  from  rules  which  the 
public  always  demands  —  Crebillon,  the  unities,  the 
horrible— Crebillon  head  of  a  school  of  art  ;  visit  of 
Mercier — Same  situation  on  the  comic  stage  :  novelty 
and  respect  for  rules — La  Chaussee  and  the  "  Comedie 
larmoyante  " — Imitation  of  English  domestic  dramas — 
Addison  imitated  by  Destouches  ...  ...  ...    232 

IV.  Voltaire's  Innovations. — His  love  for  dramatic  art 
— Tragedy  an  affair  of  State  ;  it  helps  to  improve  morals 
— Audacity  and  activity  of  Voltaire  in  every  branch  of 
human  knowledge — His  timidity  as  soon  as  it  is  a  question 
of  dramatic  art — He  feels  that  reforms  are  necessary  ;  but 
he  wants  them  to  be  very  moderate — He  pronounces  in 
favour  of  rules,  against  prose  and  blank  verse       ...  ...    241 

He  would  like  to  augment  the  number  of  speakers — 
Unfortunate  attempts  to  show  death  by  poison  on  the 
stage,  1724 — Scenic  effect  and  change  of  place  in  the 
same  town,  "  Brutus  "• — A  play  without  love  :  "La  Mort 
de  Cesar" — A  transparent  coulisse — Direct  influence  of 
Shakespeare  :  "  Zaire  "  and  "  Othello  "  ;  "  Eryphile," 
"  Semiramis,"  and  "  Hamlet "  ■ — -The  stage  freed  of 
benches  in    1759 — Ghosts  on   the  stage,    1732,    1748   ...    247 

Various  experiments — Gresset  risks  the  murder  of  a 
villain  on  the  stage,  1740 — President  Hcnault  imitates 
Shakespeare's  historical  dramas  ;  his  "  Francois  II."  in 
prose — Diffusion  of  English  ideas  :  "  l'Anglicisme  nous 
gagne,"    1750  264 


TABLE  OF  COXTEXTS  vii 

CHAPTER   IV 

THE    EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY— P J RT  II 

I75O    TO    THE    REVOLUTION 

PAGE 

I.  Anglomania  and  Francomania. — "  Anglicism  " — 
Good  society  learns  English  —  English  fashions  and 
novels  ;  "the  a  l'anglaise,"  "matinee  a  Panglaise,"  every- 
thing  "  a  l'anglaise  " — French  fashions  in  London  ...    270 

Reviews  and  gazettes  "  Britanniques  " — Guide-books 
and  notes  on  journeys  to  England — Sentimental  and 
philosophical  travellers  :  sketches  and  vignettes  ...    275 

Favour  enjoyed  by  English  literary  men  in  Paris — 
Walpole  and  Madame  du  DefFand  ;  Chesterfield  and 
Madame  de  Tencin  ;  Gibbon  and  Voltaire  ;  Sterne  and 
Diderot  ;  Hume  and  the  Duchesse  de  La  Valliere — 
Enthusiasm  for  Garrick  ;  his  visits  to  France — Scene 
from  "  Macbeth  "  acted  in  dumb  show — Relations  of 
Garrick  with  Colle,  Marmontel,  Madame  Necker, 
Beaumarchais,  de  Belloy,  Clairon,  Ducis,  &c. — His 
great   influence       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    284 

Parallel  influence  of  French  ideas  in  London — Respect 
for  Boileau's  doctrines — Pope  ;  Blair's  Rhetoric — The 
old  English  drama  remodelled  and  attenuated — Shake- 
speare severely  judged  by  Chesterfield,  Hume,  and 
Gibbon — Garrick  covers  his  nudity  ;  he  raises  a  Greek 
temple  to  him        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    296 

Sensibility,  tears,  brotherhood  :  Rousseau — Pastoral 
emotions — The~^>Id  austerity  is  blunted — The  word 
"  Monsieur  " — Nature — Opinions  of  Voltaire,  Madame 
Victoire,  Lieutenant  Bonaparte  ...  ...  ...  ...    302 

II.  Results  of  these  tendencies  on  the  French 
Stage. — Co^tunxei-and-  declamation  :  Clairon,  Le  Kain, 
Talma — Dramatic  methods  :  Alliance  of  Thalia  and 
Melpomene — Continuation  of  tearful  comedy — Tragedies 
in  prose — "  Bourgeois  "  heroes — The  "  serious  genre," 
the  "serious  drama,"  "the  sombre  drama":  Diderot, 
Sedaine,  Saurin,  Beaumarchais,  Baculard,  Mercier — 
Increasmg  sombreness  of  the  French  stage — Theory  of 
the    "  sombre  " — Going    beyond     Hercules'     columns — 


3^9 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Resemblances  and  differences  of  taste  in  the  two 
countries — Popularity  of  Young  and  of  Ossian  in  France 
— Misinterpretations  by  Hogarth  and  Gravelot    ...      '     ...    311 

Protestations  :  war  is  inevitable — Make-believe  war  — 
Abbe  Le  Blanc  ;  his  caricature  of  Racinian  -  Shake- 
spearean dramas — Cubieres  and  his  "  Manic  des  drames 
sombres  " — Cubieres'  sombre  dramas 

III.  War  about  Shakespeare. — Real  war,  its  causes  : 
the  Jubilee  ;  the  translation  by  Le  Tourneur  and  others, 
dedicated  to  the  King,  1776 — Preface  to  the  translation 
— Growing  fame  of  Shakespeare  ;  articles  in  reviews,  in  the 
"Encyclopedic,"  in  critical  literary  works  :  Diderot,  the 
Chevalier  de  Jaucourt,  Marmontel,  Mercier         ...  ...    354 

Growing  irritation  of  Voltaire  —  Letters  and  essays 
concerning  Shakespeare — Preliminary  skirmishes  :  Mrs. 
Montagu   "la   Shakespearienne,"   Horace   Walpole  ...    369 

War  in  due  form — Officers,  soldiers,  deserters — Vol- 
taire's letters  to  d'Argental  and  d'Alembert — First  letter 
to  the  Academy,  read  by  d'Alembert,  August  25,  1776 — 
Its  great  effect — Gille-Shakespeare — Fear  of  an  offensive 
return  of  the  enemy — Anxious  correspondence  between 
"  Bertrand  "  and    "Raton" 

Second  campaign,  1778 — Voltaire's  return  to  Paris,  his 
triumph,  his  classical  "Irene" — New  letter  to  the 
Academy — Plan  for  a  new  dictionary  and  for  the 
emancipation  of  the  French  language — Liberty  every- 
where   except    on   the   tragic    stage  ...  ...  ...    391 

IV.  Results  of  the  War.  —Continued  success  of  Le 
Tourneur — Replies  to  Voltaire — Mrs.  Montagu,  Baretti, 
Rutledge,  Mercier — The  question  of  patriotism  :  Mercier, 
Chastellux  ... 

V.  Shakespeare  on  the  French  Stage. — Great  pre- 
cautions still  required — Survival  of  classical  tastes — Des- 
forges'  Latin  ;  Lemierre's  arrow   ...  ...  ...  ...   4.05 

Attempt  to  reduce  Shakespearean  dramas  to  the  three 
unities  —  Drawing-room  performances:  Chastellux's 
"Romeo"  with  a  happy  ending;  the  Marquise  de 
Glc'on — Spectacles  dans  un  fauteuil  :  Douin's  "Othello," 
and  Butini's  —  A  Shakespearean  comedy,  by  Collot 
d'Herbois    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...   j.07 


37° 


397 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 

A  continuous  effort  made  by  Ducis — His  character,  his 
poetical  methods — He  adds  to  the  "sombre  "  of  the  Eng- 
lish drama,  but  reduces  Shakespeare  to  the  unities- — 
Narratives,  confidants,  &c. — The  "  mceurs  fluettes  "  and 
persistent  susceptibilities — "  Hamlet,"  "  Romeo,"  "  Lear," 
"  Othello,"  &c,  on  the  stage — The  interpretation  : 
Brizard,    Mole,    Madame    Vestris,   Talma  ...  ...   414. 

VI.  The  Period  of  the  Revolution.  —  Persistent 
timidities — Dramas  of  Mercier  and  Marie-Joseph  Chenier 
— The  ancient  regime  survives  for  tragedy — Judgment  of 
Chateaubriand  :  Shakespeare  as  obscure  and  misshapen  as 
a  Gothic  cathedral,  1801-2 — Judgment  of  Fievee,  Palissot, 
Madame  de  Stael  —  Legouve  —  Pantomimes  and  ballets 
drawn   from   Shakespeare...  ..  ...  ...  ...   438 

EPILOGUE 

Continuation  of  classical  methods  under  the  Restoration 
— Romantic  and  classic  writers — Shakespeare  hissed,  1822 
— Stendhal's  demands — Poets,  painters,  and  critics — Hugo, 
Delacroix,  Sainte-Beuve,  Guizot — The  romantic  period 
according  to  Gautier  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...   449 

Shakespeare  played  in  Paris  in  English,  1827-28 — 
Great  success  and  influence  of  these  performances — Hugo, 
Dumas,  Berlioz — Articles  by  Charles  Magnin  and  the 
Due  de  Broglie  —  Preface  of  "  Cromwell  "  —  Dumas' 
"  Hamlet  " — Opinion  of  Flaubert — Shakespearean  per- 
sonages and  dramas  vulgarised  in  France  :  adaptations, 
drawings,   music     ...  ...  ...  ..  ...  ...   454 

Conclusion  —  Final  result  of  these  literary  wars  : 
*'  Attila-Shakespeare "  has  enslaved  no  one,  but  has 
helped  the  romantic  movement  and  the  emancipation 
of  1830 — The  French  dramatic  muse  has  become  more 
fecund  than  ever  before — The  movement  of  1830,  on 
which  Shakespeare  had  a  marked  influence,  has  given 
fresh  vitality  to  the  French  stage  ...  ...  ...   464 


Index 


471 


EXPLANATORY      LIST      OF 
ILLUSTRATIONS 


I. — Brizard,  the  comedian,  as  King  Lear  in  the 
adaptation  by  Ducis  of  Shakespeare's  play, 
painted  by  Madame  Guiard,  a  member  of  the 
French  Royal  Academy  of  Painting,  engraved 
by  J.  J.  Avril  ....  ....  ....   Frontispiece 

2. — Part  of  the  Theatres'  Corner  in  Southwark, 
from  the  large  plate  by  the  Dutch  engraver 
Claes  Jan  Visscher,  born  1580  (Bryan),  show- 
ing "  the  Globe  "  and  the  "  Bear  Garden  " 
(on  another  part  of  the  plate,  more  to  the 
west,  is  shown  "the  Swan").  The  plate  is 
accompanied  with  a  Description  of  London 
in  Latin  and  in  French,  "  A  Amsterdam  im- 
prime  chez  Judocus  Hondius,  1620."  Re- 
ductions of  that  plate  were  published  in  Paris 
for  French  use,  with  some  of  the  inscriptions 
in  French  :  "  Profil  de  la  ville  de  Londre 
cappitalle  du  Royaume  d'Angleterre."  One 
of  those  adaptations  was  the  work  of  the 
celebrated  Aveline,  time  of  Louis  XIV 37 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS 

I'AGE 

-The  meeting  of  Doraste  and  Faunia  (Florizel 
and  Perdita  in  "  Winter's  Tale  ")  from  a  late 
French  adaptation  of  Greene's  "  Pandosto  " 
(the  original  made  use  of  by  Shakespeare)  : 
"  Histoire  tragique  de  Pandolphe,"  Paris, 
1722,  illustrated.  Cf.  "English  Novel  in 
the  Time  of  Shakespeare,"  p.    178  ...      41 

-The  Great  Hall  at  Fontainebleau,  built 
under  Charles  IX.,  called  afterwards  the 
"  Salle  de  la  Belle  Cheminee,"  on  account 
of  a  beautiful  chimney  carved  by  Jaquet, 
alias  Grenoble,  during  the  reign  of  Henri 
IV.  (sculptures  representing,  e.g.,  the  battle 
of  Ivry).  As  it  was  the  largest  hall  in 
the  palace  it  was  used  for  pageants  and  cere- 
monies, such  as  the  one  here  represented  by 
Abraham  Bosse  :  "  Disposition  a  la  seance 
tenue  a  Fontainebleau  a  la  creation  de  Mes- 
sieurs les  Chevaliers,  faite  le  i4mc  May, 
1633."  Plays  were  sometimes  performed 
there,  and  a  regular  stage  was  erected  in  it  in 
the  same  year,  1633.  The  Hall  was  after 
that  called  "  Salle  de  la  Comedie."  The 
remains  of  the  chimney  were  scattered  (some 
are  now  in  the  Louvre)  though  much  more 
worthy  of  perfect  preservation,  wrote  Abbe 
Guilbert  dolefully,  than  the  "  legeres  beaut.es 
d'un  vil  theatre,  ecueil  trop  ordinaire  de  la 
chastete  et  de  l'innocence,  qui  y  apprennent 
toujours  l'art  funeste  d'y  faire  un  inevitable 
naufrage."  The  hall  was  entirely  repainted 
and  regilt,  and  new  boxes  were  added,  in  1725, 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS  xiii 

PAGE 

by  Claude  Audran.  It  suffered  severely  in  a 
fire  in  1856  ;  and  it  stands  now  as  ruinous 
and  desolate  as  it  used  formerly  to  be  brilliant 
and  full  of  "  legeres  beautes."  Only  the  four 
walls  with  their  plain  outside  decoration  and 
the  double  external  staircase  remain....  ....      53 

5. — The  mansions  for  the  performance  of  a 
mystery  ;  from  the  MS.  of  the  Valenciennes 
Passion,  1547,  preserved  in  the  National 
Library,  Paris,  MS.,  Fr.  12,536.  The  large 
folding  miniature  at  the  beginning  of  the 
volume,  and  here  reproduced,  is  inscribed  : 
"  Le  teatre  ou  hourdement  pourtraict  com  me 
il  estoit  quant  fut  jouee  le  mistere  de  la 
Passion."  A  name  is  ascribed  to  each 
mansion  :  Paradis,  Nazareth,  Le  Temple, 
Hierusalem,  l'enfer  (Hell,  with  guns),  &c. 
The  MS.  is  illustrated  throughout  ;  Salome 
does  not  tumble  as  she  used  to  during  the 
Middle  Ages  ;  far  from  being  mediaeval,  her 
dancing  rather  recalls  modern  ballets,  fol.  136     6 2 

6. — "  Thebes  written  in  great  letters  upon  an 
olde  doore  "  (Philip  Sidney). — "  Babilonia  " 
in  the  fresco  of  Benozzo  Gozzoli  at  the 
Camp  Santo  of  Pisa,  representing  the  building 
of  the  Tower  of  Babel,  second  half  of  fifteenth 
century  ....  ....  ....  ....  ....     67 

7. — Scenery  for  the  performance  of  "  Pandoste  ou 
laPrincesse  Malheureuse  "  ("  Winter's  Tale"), 
at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne,  1631,  first  day. 
The  play,  by  Puget  de  la  Serre,  was  divided 
into  two  "journees,"  each  having  five  acts. 
1* 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

We  possess  the  original  sketch  drawn  by  the 
scene-shifter  of  the  hotel,  and  from  which 
the  scenery  for  each  day  was  painted  ;  pre- 
served in  the  valuable  album  of  the  "  ma- 
chiniste,"  Laurent  Mahelot  (MS.,  ¥r.  24,330 
in  the  National  Library,  Paris)  ;  this  album 
contains  also  sketches  for  plays  by  Rotrou, 
Mairet,  Hardy,  &c.  ;  and  in  a  later  hand, 
notes  and  lists  of  movables  for  the  perform- 
ance of  plays  by  Corneille,  Racine,  Moliere....      71 

-"  Pandoste  ou  la  Princesse  Malheureuse," 
2d  day,  from  the  same  MS.  as  the  above. 
The  scenery  represents  the  house  of  the 
peasants  who  brought  up  "  Faunia  "  (Perdita), 
the  palaces  of  Pandoste  (Leontes)  and  of 
Agatocles  (Polixenes),  and  the  wood  where 
Doraste  (Florizel)  met  Faunia  ....  ....      75 

-The  performance  of  a  comedy  at  the  "  Hotel 
de  Bourgogne "  (the  only  permanent  play- 
house in  Paris  up  to  1629)  showing  the  latest 
embellishments  introduced  there  in  the  days 
of  Abraham  Bosse,  the  author  of  the  plate 
(time  of  Louis  XIII.).  The  inscription  below 
runs : — 

"Que  ce  theatre  est  magnifique  ! 
Oue  ces  acteurs  sont  inventifs  ! 
Et  qu'ils  ont  de  preservatifs 
Contre  l'humeur  melancolique  !  "  &c. 

The  comedians  on  the  stage  are  the  typical 
farceurs  of  the  period  :  Turlupin  who  acts 
the  robber,  Gros  Guillaume  "  trousse  comme 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xv 

PAGE 

un  joueur  de  paume,"  Gaultier  Garguille,  with 
his  mask,  and  then,  right  and  left,  staring  at 
each  other,  a  French  "  seigneur,"  and  a 
Spanish  braggadocio.  Notice,  on  each  side, 
the  balustrades  already  shown  in  Mahelot's 
drawing  for  the  second  day  of  "  Pandoste." 
The  chandeliers  alluded  to  by  Perrault  (see 
below,  p.  88)  hung  in  front  of  the  curtain 
and  were  lowered  during  the  en  trades ; 
then  candle-snuffers  performed  their  duty  ; 
see  the  engraving  by  Coy  pel  of  Moliere's 
playhouse,  below,  No.  20     ....  ....  ....      85 

10. — The  third  act  of  "  Mirame,"  a  tragedy 
written  by  Desmarets  de  Saint  Sorlin  and 
Cardinal  de  Richelieu,  performed  with  great 
splendour  on  the  stage  of  Richelieu's  palace 
in  1639.  The  original  edition,  "  Mirame," 
Paris,  1 64 1,  fol.,  has  a  plate  for  each  act,  by 
Stephen  Delia  Bella.  As  the  unity  of  place 
is  observed  the  landscape  is  the  same  in  all 
the  plates.  We  are  supposed  to  be  in  Bithy- 
nia,  though  the  actors  are  dressed  in  Louis 
XIII.  costumes  :  "  La  scene  est  dans  le 
jardin  du  palais  royal  d'Heraclee,  regardant 
sur  la  mer "  ...  ...  ...  ...      89 

11. — "  Le  soir,"  King  Louis  XIII.  at  the  play, 
with  Queen  Anne  of  Austria,  their  son  the 
future  Louis  XIV.,  Gaston  d'Orltans,  and  a 
dog.  The  theatre  represented  seems  to  be 
the  famous  one  built  by  Richelieu  in  his 
palace  at  Paris,  though  the  royal  arms  are 
displayed  above  the  stage,  whereas  the  arms 


xvi  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS 

PAGE 

of  the  cardinal  had  in  reality  been  sculptured 
there.  But,  except  for  that,  the  general  simili- 
tude is  striking  ;  compare  the  aperture  of  the 
stage  in  No.  10  above. 

In  the  companion  plate,  "  Le  Matin,"  King 
Louis  XIII.   is  seen  walking  in  his  gardens     93 

12. — An  Italian  Theatre  of  the  time  of  Shake- 
speare. The  Teatro  Olimpico  of  Vicenza,  built 
from  the  drawings  of  Palladio,  after  1580. 
Many  other  theatres  were  erected  in  Italy,  at  the 
same  period,  also  in  imitation  of  the  theatres 
of  the  ancients  ;  the  best  known  being  the 
one  at  Parma  (161 8)  ;  the  least  known,  but 
scarcely  less  curious,  the  little  theatre  built 
by  Scamozzi  in  the  tourist-ignored  town  of 
Sabbionetta,  sixteenth  century.  The  drawing 
of  Scamozzi  with  his  receipt  for  "  trenta  doble 
d'oro  di  Spagna  "  is  to  be  seen  in  the  museum 
at  Vicenza     ....  ....  ....  ....  ....      99 

13. — A  dress  for  the  country,  time  of  Louis  XIV., 
"  Dame  allant  a  la  campagne,"  by  Le  Pautre ; 
the  lady  is  dressed  in  lace  and  embroidery  ; 
the  "  country  "  is  a  park  with  cut  trees  and 
stone  balustrades       ....  ....  ....  ....    109 

14. — The  members  of  the  French  Academy  ad- 
dressing Louis  XIV.  on  the  occasion  of  the 
issue  of  the  first  vol.  of  their  Dictionary, 
1694.  Frontispiece  of  the  dedicatory  epistle 
to  the  King.  "  I.  B.  Corneille  inv. ;  I.  Mariette 
sc."  (Jean  Baptiste  Corneille,  painter  and 
engraver  1649-95  ;  Jean  Mariette,  engraver 
and  publisher,  1 660-1 742)  ....  ...  ...    113 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRAT10XS  xvii 

PAGE 

15. — "Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Bouillon" 
(Marie-Anne  Mancini),  niece  of  Cardinal 
Mazarin,  and  one  of  the  admired  of  La 
Fontaine.  "  A  Paris,  chez  J.  Mariette,  aux 
Colonnes  d'Hercule."  La  Fontaine  wanted 
to  come  to  England  with  her  in  1687  •        ....    133 

16. — "  Coacres  et  coacresse  dans  leurs  assemblies," 
a  meeting  of  Quakers,  from  Misson's 
"  Memoires  et  observations  faites  par  un 
voyageur  en  Angleterre,"  La  Haye,  1698, 
12°    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    141 

17. — "  Montague  House,  now  the  British 
Museum "  (before  its  reconstruction)  from 
a  plate  dated  .1813,  "  Ackerman's  Repository 
of  Arts"        ...  ...  ...  ....  ...    145 

18. — French  officers  smoking  their  pipes;  en- 
graved by  Abraham  Bosse,  after  Saint  Igny, 
time  of  Louis  XIII.      Lines  underneath  : — 

"  Quand  nous  sommes  remplis  d'humeur  melancolique, 
La  vapeur  du  tabac  ravive  nos  esprits,"  &c. 

Coffee-houses  were  not  at  first  so  numerous 
and  well  frequented  in  Paris  as  in  London  ; 
most  travellers  notice  the  difference.  In  the 
eighteenth  century,  however,  those  places 
increased  immensely  in  number  and  impor- 
tance, and  the  French  capital  had  nothing 
to  envy  the  English  one  in  this  respect. 
Mercier  writes  :  "  On  compte  six  a  sept  cents 
cafes  ;  c'est  le  refuge  ordinaire  des  oisifs  et 
l'asyle  des  indigens.  .  .  .  Dans  quelques  uns 
de  ces  cafes  on  tient  bureau  academique  ;  on  y 


xviii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PA 

juge  les  auteurs,  les  pieces  de  theatre  .  .  .  et 
les  poetes  qui  vont  debuter  y  font  ordinaire- 
ment  plus  de  bruit,  ainsi  que  ceux  qui,  chasses 
de  la  carriere  par  les  sifflets,  deviennent 
ordinairement  satiriques  ;  car  le  plus  impitoy- 
able  des  critiques  est  toujours  un  auteur 
siffle."     "Tableau  de  Paris,"  1782,  i.  p.  227    149 

19. — How  men  of  quality,  in  the  time  of  Louis 
XIV.,  stood  on  the  stage  and  listened,  when 
so  disposed,  to  a  play  :  "  Homme  de  qualite 
sur  le  theatre  de  l'opera. — Saint  Jean  delin., 
1687."  They  stood  if  they  liked,  but  they 
had  stools  and  could  sit  if  they  preferred  ; 
they  had  the  same  privilege  at  the  comedy 
as  at  the  opera  ...  ...  ...  ...155 

20. — Moliere's  play-house,  as  represented  by 
Coypel  in  his  "  Suite  d'Estampes,"  to  illus- 
trate Moliere's  comedies,  1726.  The  one  here 
reproduced  (in  part)  serves  as  a  frontispiece 
to  the  edition  ;  it  shows  the  standing  pit, 
the  chandeliers  lowered  to  the  level  of  the 
boards,  as  they  used  to  be  during  the  internals 
of  the  acts,  and,  through  a  raised  corner  of 
the  curtain,  the  gentlemen  allowed  to  have 
seats  on  the  stage      ...  ...  ...  . ..    159 

21. — The  death  of  Cato  ;  frontispiece  of  "  Caton, 
tragedie  par  M.  Addison  ;  chez  Jacob  Tonson, 
a  la  tete  de  Shakespeare."  Addison's  "  Cato  " 
translated  by  Boyer,  1713;  plate  by  Du 
Guernier        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    171 

22. — Abbe  Prevost,  the  author  of  "  Manon 
Lescaut,"   "  aumonier   de  S.   A.   S.    Mgr.    le 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS  xix 

PAGE 

Prince    de    Conti,    dessine    a     Paris    d'apres 

nature,  et  grave  a  Berlin  par  G.  F.  Schmidt, 

graveur  du  roy,  en  1745"   ...  ...  ...    189 

23. — "  Mrs.  Oldfield,  the  celebrated  comedian. — - 

Richardson  pinxit — Edward  Fisher  fecit  "  ...  193 
24. — James    Figg,    the    pugilist    and    swordsman 

(described  by  Abbe  Prevost),  painted  by  I. 

Ellys,    engraved    by    I.    Faber.     Inscription 

below  : — 

"  The  mighty  combatant,  the  first  in  fame, 
The  lasting  glory  of  his  native  Thame, 
Rash  and  unthinking  men  !   at  length  be  wise, 
Consult  your  safety  and  resign  the  prize, 
Nor  tempt  superior  force,  but  timelv  flv 
The  vigour  of  his  arm,  the  quickness  of  his  eve." 

Figg  died  in  1734 197 

25. — Voltaire  at  twenty-four  (171 8),  engraved  by 

P.  A.  Tardieu,  after  Largilliere       ...  ...    201 

26. — A  French  view  of  Greenwich,  by  Rigaud, 
1736,  who  also  engraved  plates  representing  St. 
James's  Park,  Hampton  Court,  &c.  His 
enthusiasm  for  Greenwich  seems  to  have 
equalled  Voltaire's  own  ;  the  plate  bears  the 
inscription :  "  Veue  de  Greenwich  dessine  a 
cote  de  l'observatoire,  au  haut  de  la  colline. 
De  cet  endroit  on  aper^oit  de  tous  les  cotes 
de  Greenwich  un  vaste  et  delicieux  pais  et  la 
ville  de  Londres  dans  l'eloignement  avec  le 
cours  de  la  Tamise,  chargee  d'une  quantite 
etonante  de  vaisseaux  de  toutes  grandeurs  et 
de  toutes  les  parties  du  monde,  ce  qui  fait 
un  aspect  admirable. — Paris,  chez  l'auteur  "...    205 


xx  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

27.— The  cut  trees  of  Marly — "  Vue  generalle  et 
en  perspective  du  Jardin,  Pavilion,  Berceaux 
.  .  .  du  chateau  de  Marly.  Fait  par  Ave- 
line"  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...   211 

28. — "  Armide,"  an  opera  by  Quinault,  music  by 
Lully  ;  frontispiece  by  Berain,  engraved  by 
Dolivar,  1686,  showing  the  destruction  of 
the  palace  of  Armide  as  represented  at  the 
Opera  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...   227 

29. — ■"  L'auteur  sifle."     A  late  eighteenth  or  early 

nineteenth  century  coloured  print    ...  ...   233 

30. — Mile.  Clairon's  visit  to  Ferney,  an  unsigned 
engraving,  but  the  undoubted  work  of 
Huber.  In  their  mutual  emotion  and  ad- 
miration, Clairon  and  Voltaire  both  fell  on 
their  knees,  worshipping  each  other's  genius. 
Voltaire,  it  seems,  worshipped  longer  than  he 
wanted,  on  account  of  the  difficulty  he  had  in 
rising.  Huber  had  taken  upon  himself  to 
preserve  for  posterity  "  the  countless  laugh- 
able incidents  which  happened  every  other 
day  in  that  strange  Ferney"  (Desnoiresterres, 
"  Iconographie  Voltainenne,"  1879,  p.  49). 
Neither  the  remonstrances  nor  the  irritation 
of  Voltaire  could  ever  stop  Huber,  who  was 
always  present  at  Ferney,  as  a  sort  of  familiar 
demon,  with  an  ever  ready  pencil     ...  ...    239 

31. — "Les  petits  Comediens,"  by  Gravelot,  show- 
ing how  men  of  quality  were  seated  on  the 
stage,  in  the  eighteenth  century  ;  they  are 
seen  talking,  taking  refreshments,  &c.  This 
was  one  of   the   most  famous  shows  of   the 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xxi 

PAGE 

Boulevards  ;  the  actors  were  children.     They 
were    visited    by    Goldoni  :     "  Ce    sont    des 
enfants  qui  accompagnent  si  adroitement  avec 
leurs    gestes    la    voix    des    hommes    et    des 
femmes  qui    chantent    dans    la    coulisse    que 
Ton  a  cru  d'abord    et  que  Ton  a  parie  que 
c'etaientles  enfants  eux-memes  qui  chantaient." 
"Memoires,"    1787,    iii.,    p.    145.      As    the 
play  is  going  on,  the  chandeliers  are  raised  ; 
compare  plate  No.  20  ....  ....  ...   253 

32. — A  performance  of  Voltaire's  tragedy  of 
"Semiramis,"  after  the  removal  of  the  benches 
for  gentlemen,  which  used  to  encumber  the 
stage  ;  drawn  by  Gravelot,  engraved  by 
Massard.  On  the  right,  the  tomb  of  Ninus, 
with  Semiramis  dying.     Arzace  : — 

"Quelle  victirae,  6  ciel,  a  done  frappe  ma  rage  ? " 

"  CEuvres  completes   de   Voltaire,"   Geneve, 

1768  261 

33. — Voltaire  as  a  tragic  actor,  a  plate  satirizing 
Voltaire's  classical  performances  :  "  Le  heros 
de  Ferney  au  theatre  de  Chatelaine — -T.  O.  ft., 
1772."     Below,  these  lame  lines  : — 

"Ne  pretens  pas  a  trop,  tu  ne  scaurais  qu'ecrire, 
Tes  vers  forcent  mes  pleurs,  mais  tes  gestes  me  font 
rire." 

Voltaire   had  a  temporary  theatre,   made    of 
planks,   erected  at   Chatelaine,  near  Ferney, 


xxii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

beyond  the  limits  of  the  Geneva  canton  ;  he 
used  it  during  the  period  when  he  did  not 
dare  openly  to  infringe  the  Genevan  decrees 
forbidding  theatrical  representations  ...    285 

34. — Garrick  ;  his  portrait  by  C.  N.  Cochin,  the 

son  (1715-90)  ...  ...  ...  ....   289 

35. — Shakespeare,  his  marble  statue  bequeathed  by 
Garrick  to  the  British  Museum,  the  work 
(1758)  of  Louis  Francois  Roubillac  of 
Lyons,  a  pupil  of  Coustou.  This  was  the 
second  statue  raised  to  Shakespeare  ;  the  first 
was  the  one  in  Westminster  Abbey  (1741) 
the  work  of  Scheemakers,  a  Fleming.  The 
third  (according  to  M.  Sidney  Lee's  list)  was 
an  adaptation  of  the  two  former.  The  fourth 
was  the  work  of  M.  Ward,  an  American  ;  the 
fifth  was  again  due  to  a  Frenchman,  M.  Paul 
Fournier,  and  has  lately  been  erected  in 
Paris.  The  sixth — the  first  one  due  to  an 
English  chisel — was  inaugurated  in  1888  at 
Stratford,  and  is  the  work  of  Lord  Ronald 
Gower.  (A  plaster  model  of  it  was  exhibited 
in  the  Paris  salon  ofi88i)  ...  ...    303 

36. — The  "Shepherds'  Refuge,"  one  of  the  usual 
ornaments  of  a  "  pare  a  l'anglaise,"  in  the 
park  of  Count  d'Albon,  Prince  of  Yvetot, 
at  Franconville  ;  second  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Le  Prieur,  "  Tableau  pittoresque 
de  la  vallee  de  Montmorency,"  first  edition  : 
"  Tempe  et  Paris,"    1784,  8°,  2nd.,  1788    ...    307 

37. — Theatrical  declamation,  by  Eisen  ;  "  de 
Ghendt   sc,"  illustrating  a  passage   in    "  La 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xxiii 


PAGE 


Declamation  theatrale,  poeme,"  by  Dorat, 
1766  :— 

"  Ne  va  point  imiter  ces  sorcieres  obscures 
Qui  n'ont  rien  d'infernal  si  ce  n'est  la  figure." 

Dorat  knew  "  Macbeth,"  Makbet,  as  he  calls 
it,  very  well,  and  seems  to  allude  here  to  the 
three  weird  sisters  with  whom  the  lady  repre- 
sented by  Eisen  has  as  little  in  common  as 
the  poet  could  wish  ...  ...  ...313 

38. — "  L'Avare,  The  Miser,"  of  Moliere,  an  en- 
graving by  Van  der  Gucht  after  Hogarth  in 
"  The  Works  of  Moliere,  French  and  Eng- 
lish," London,  1739,  10  vols.,  120,  vol.  ii. 
This  edition  has  French  and  English  illus- 
trations by  Hogarth,  Hambleton,  Boucher, 
&c.  The  differences  in  style  are  striking, 
as  Boucher  exaggerates  the  elegance  of  his 
originals,  and  Hambleton  their  coarseness  ; 
Boucher's  Scapin  looks  a  much  more  dis- 
tinguished person  than  Hambleton's  Valere 
(in  "The  School  for  Husbands,"  vol.  iii.). 
The  scene  here  represented  is  the  last  in  the 
comedy  of  "  L'Avare,"  when  Anselme  and 
Valere  discover  that  they  are  father  and  son, 
while  Harpagon  puts  out  one  of  the  two 
candles  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...323 

39. — Hamlet.  "  Hayman  inv. — Gravelot  sc," 
from  the  Oxford  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
works,  1 744,  6  vols.  40.  Hayman  seems 
merely  to  have  supplied  the  subjects  ;  Grave- 


xxiv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

lot  treated  them  in  his  own  ultra-French  style. 
Another  series  of  illustrations  for  Shakespeare 
was  provided  by  Gravelot  (who  was  then 
staying  in  England  and  had  Gainsborough 
for  his  pupil),  and  adorned  Theobald's  edition 
of  the  plays,  London,  1757,  7  vols.,  120.  In 
this  case  Gravelot  supplied  the  drawings,  but 
much  of  his  characteristic  elegance  dis- 
appeared under  the  hand  of  Van  der  Gucht 
the  engraver....  ...  ...  ...  ....   327 

40. — "  La  tendre  humanite,"  the  milk  of  human 
kindness.  Count  d'Albon,  Prince  of  Yvetot, 
had  instituted  distributions  of  soup  to  the 
poor  in  his  castle  at  Franconville ;  the  interest 
elicited  by  "  l'humanite  "  was  so  great  in  the 
second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  that  the 
humane  deed  of  Count  d'Albon  t  was  made  the 
subject  of  an  engraving  :  "Etude  d'apres 
nature  representant  un  pauvre  venant  chercher 
la  soupe  chez  M.  le  Comte  d'Albon  a  Fran- 
conville," 1784,  reproduced  in  "Tableau 
pittoresque  de  la  vallee  de  Montmorency," 
by  Le  Prieur  ...  ...  ...  ...331 

41. — The  chevalier  Michel  de  Cubieres  de 
Palmezeaux,  1785,  engraved  by  the  famous 
diplomatist  and  engraver,  Vivant  Denon, 
another  familiar  demon  of  Voltaire's,  and  the 
author  of  several  funny  plates  representing 
the  patriarch  at  home.  The  plates  had  an 
immense  success  with  everybody  except 
Voltaire         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    341 

42.— "Caverne  d' Young,"  a  favourite  subject  with 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS  xxv 

PAGE 

landscape  gardeners  of  the  second  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  one  here  represented 
figured  among  the  ornaments  of  the  "  pare  a 
l'anglaise"  of  Count  d'Albon,  at  Franconville 
in  the  Montmorency  valley.  "  Passers-by," 
says  Le  Prieur  in  his  description  of  the  park, 
"  stop  with  a  shudder  before  a  cave  whose 
dark  and  frightful  appearance  proclaims 
the  name  of  him  to  whom  it  was  dedicated. 
The  inscription  fits  the  place  and  recalls  the 
character  of  the  man  on  account  of  whom  it 
was  made  :   '  Caverne  d' Young  ' '      ...  . . .    3  5 1 

43. — Le  Tourneur  (Pierre  Felicien),  principal 
author  of  the  first  complete  translation  of 
Shakespeare's  plays  in  French.  "  A.  Pujas 
del.  ad  vivum,  1787. — Ch.  L.  Lingee,  sculp., 
1788"  ...         v.         ...         355 

44. — The  statue  of  Voltaire  by  Pigalle,  now  pre- 
served in  the  library  of  the  Institute,  Paris. 
The  inscription  runs  :  "  A  Monsieur  de 
Voltaire,  par  les  gens  de  lettres  ses  compa- 
triotes  et  ses  contemporains,  1776."  It  was 
begun  at  Ferney  in  June,  1770;  Pigalle 
modelled  the  head  from  the  original  ;  the 
rest  from  an  old  soldier  who  sat  to  him 
in  Paris  (so  we  read  in  the  "  Correspon- 
dance  Litteraire  de  Grimm  et  Diderot,"  ed. 
Tourneux,  ix.,  285.)  The  man  was  in  any 
case  well  chosen,  as  the  remarkable  way  in 
which  Voltaire's  skeleton  accorded  with  the 
statue  was  noticed  by  M.  Berthelot  when  the 
tomb  was  opened  in  1897     ...  ...  ...    363 


37i 


xxvi  \LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

45. — Silly  "Gille,"  one  of  the  familiar  characters 
of  the  "  Theatre  de  la  foire  "  ;  time  of  Vol- 
taire .... 

46. — A  view  of  the  English  Vauxhall  drawn  by 
Canaletto  during  his  stay  in  England,  engraved 
byMiiller,  1751  :  "  Vue  du  temple  de  Comus 
dans  les  Jardins  de  Vauxhall."  The  boxes 
where  people  had  their  dinners  were  adorned 
with  pictures  by  Hayman  (the  same  who 
illustrated  Shakespeare  in  conjunction  with 
Gravelot),  and  by  Hogarth  ...  ...  ...377 

47. — The  French    Vauxhall,    "  Vue   du  Vauxhall 

de  la  foire  Saint  Germain,  1772"     ...  ...   381 

48.— Voltaire,  the  year  before  his  death  :  "  Le 
vieux  malade  de  Fernex  tel  qu'on  l'a  vu  en 
Septembre,  1777  ;"  drawn  from  life,  four 
months  before  he  left  Forney  for  his  last 
journey  to  Paris       ...  ...  ...  •••385 

49. — The  crowning  of  Voltaire  in  his  box  by 
Brizard  the  comedian  and  by  "  Belle-et- 
Bonne "  (the  pet  name  of  the  Marquise  de 
Villette)  on  the  night  of  "  Irene "  ;  to  the 
right,  fat  Madame  Denis,  Voltaire's  niece  ; 
from  a  contemporary  plate  inscribed  :  "  Anec- 
dote de  l'homme  unique  a  tout  age."  The 
plate  shows  the  sort  of  railings  which  divided 
the  pit  from  the  orchestra.  Observe,  in  the 
corner  of  the  pit,  one  of  the  grenadiers  (with 
a  cocked  hat,  his  bayonet  visible)  who  were 
posted  there  to  maintain  order.  "  Le 
theatre,"  said  Mercier,  "  semble  une  prison 
gardee   a  vue,"     "  Tableau   de  Paris,"   chap. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xxvii 

PAGE 

743.  Voltaire's  box  was  in  reality  on  the 
left,  as  seen  in  the  following  plate   ...  ...    389 

50. — The  crowning  of  Voltaire's  bust,  in  his 
presence,  at  the  French  Comedy,  after  the 
performance  of  "  Irene,"  March  30,  1778, 
from  a  drawing  by  Moreau  the  younger,  who 
was  present,  and  who  began  his  sketch  on  the 
same  night    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    393 

51. — Sebastien  Mercier  ;  a  caricature.  (A  number 
were  published  in  his  day  ;  in  another  plate 
he  is  represented  as  an  ass  covering  antique 
statues  with  filth,  and  trampling  the  works 
of  Racine  under  his  hoofs).  This  one  is 
inscribed  :  "  Erostrate  moderne  ecrivant  sur 
les  arts "        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    401 

52. — Madame  Riccoboni  (Marie  Jeanne  Laboras 

de  Mezieres),  "  Bovinet  sc."  ...  ...   410 

53. — "Mr.  Garrick  in  'Hamlet,'  Act  I.,  sc.  iv.," 
from  his  portrait  by  B.  Wilson,  engraved  by 
J.  Mac  Ardell  -417 

54. — Mile.  Fleury  as  Ophelia,  "  role  d'Orfelie 
dans  Hamlet,"  the  "  Hamlet  "  of  Ducis.  She 
is  represented  delivering  the  line — 

"Tu  cours  venger  ton  pere,  et  moi  sauver  le  mien." 

(She  is  the  daughter  of  Claudius  in  the  play 
as  adapted  by  Ducis).     From  "  Costumes  et 
annales  des  grands  theatres  de  Paris,  ouvrage 
periodique,"    by    M.    de    Chamois,    1786,    4 
vols.,  vol.  ii.,  No.  xxiii.         ...  ...  ...   421 

55. — Ducis  writing    "  Lear,"   engraved    by  J.  J. 


xxviii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Avril  from  the  painting  by  Madame  Guiard 

"  de  l'Academie  royale  de  peinture  "  ...   42" 

56. — Miss  Smithson  (afterwards  Madame  Berlioz) 
as  Ophelia,  by  A.  de  Valmont  ;  "Le  Theatre 
Anglais  a  Paris,  Mile.  Smithson,  role 
d'Offelia  dans  Hamlet " 

57. — The  players'  scene  in  "  Hamlet,"  one  of 
sixteen  lithographs  by  Eugene  Delacroix, 
illustrating  Hamlet;  this  one,  dated  1835. 
"  Votre  Majeste  et  nous  avons  la  conscience 
libre  ;  cela  ne  nous  touche  en  rien  ..." 
Compare  same  subject,  engraved  by  Gravelot, 
above,  No.  38  ...  ...  ...  ...   46 


457 


Shakespeare  in  France 

UNDER    THE    JNCJEN  REGIME 
CHAPTER    1 

EARLY    DAYS 

IN  1645  Jean  Biaeu  published  the  fourth  part  of  the 
"Theatre  du  Monde,"  a  magnificent  work  in  folio, 
printed  in  Amsterdam,  in  which  all  countries  and 
towns  are  described.  Stratford-on-Avon,  where  the 
great  English  dramatist  was  born,  and  in  whose  old 
mossy  church  he  now  sleeps,  is  not  overlooked  ;  the 
following  lines  are  devoted  to  it  : — 

"  The  Avone  .  .  .  passes  against  Stratford,  a  rather 
agreeable  little  trading  place,  but  which  owes  all  its 
glory  to  two  of  its  nurslings  :  to  wit,  John  de  Stratford, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  built  a  temple  there, 
and  Hugh  de  Clopton,  judge  at  London,  who  threw 
across  the  Avone,  at  great  cost,  a  bridge  of  fourteen 
arches." 


2  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

That  is  all.  Of  Shakespeare  not  a  word  ;  he  evidently 
did  not  deserve,  according  to  the  author  of  the  "  Theatre 
du  Monde,"  to  be  counted  amongst  those  nurslings 
whom  a  town  may  be  proud  of.  Stratford  had  produced 
an  archbishop  and  a  judge  ;  that  was  enough  for  her 
glory. 

A  hundred  and  twenty  years  later,  in  1765,  appeared 
the  fifteenth  volume  of  the  famous  "  Encyclopedie." 
There,  too,  an  article  was  devoted  to  Stratford-on- 
Avon.  The  article  was  written  by  the  Chevalier  de 
Jaucourt,  and  we  read   in  it  : — 

"  Not  long  ago  was  still  shown  in  that  town  the  house 
in  which  Shakespeare  (William)  had  died  in  1616  ;  it 
was  even  regarded  as  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  place  ; 
the  inhabitants  regretted  its  destruction,  so  jealously  they 
glory  in  the  birth  of  that  sublime  genius,  the  greatest 
known  in  dramatic  poetry." 

The  article  is  five  columns  long,  and  is  entirely 
dedicated  to  Shakespeare.  The  change  is  striking 
enough.  Shakespeare,  so  little  known  that  his  name 
did  not  even  come  to  mind  when  Stratford  was  spoken 
of,  is  now  a  "  sublime  genius,  the  greatest  known  in 
dramatic  poetry."  The  causes  of  that  change,  the 
varying  events  which  brought  it  about,  the  quarrels 
which  attended  it,  and  in  which  the  most  illustrious 
men  of  letters  in  France  and  England  took  part,  are 
well  worthy  of  attention.1      Their  history  is  intimately 

1  The  question,  in  at  least  some  of  its  aspects,  has  been  studied 
before  in  such  works  as  the  book  by  Lacroix  on  the  "Influence 
de  Shakespeare  sur  le  Theatre  Francais,"  Brussels,  1856  (very 
meritorious  for  its  time),  and  the  articles  by  Rathery  on  the 
"Relations  entre  la  France  et  l'Angleterrc"  ("Revue  Contcmpo- 
raine,"  1855).      Sec  also  the  important  work  devoted  by  M.  Texte 


EARLY  DAYS  3 

connected  with  that  of  French  literary  tastes  and  ideals — 
tastes  and  ideals  sometimes  accepted,  sometimes  con- 
tested, but  never  ignored  in  Europe  from  the  age  of  St. 
Louis  to  our  own. 


I. 

When  old  Deschamps  wrote,  five  centuries  ago,  in 
the  middle  of  the  Hundred  Years'  War,  his  graceful  and 
now  famous  compliment  to  that  "great  translator," 
Geoffrey  Chaucer,  he  had  no  idea  he  was  performing  an 
unprecedented  and  peerless  deed,  a  deed  that  was  to 
remain  for  centuries  unique  of  its  kind.  His  praise,  it 
is  true,  was  of  a  limited  sort ;  Chaucer  was  for  him  "  of 
worldly  loves  god  in  England,"  only  because  he  had 
translated  the  "Romaunt  of  the  Rose."  The  English 
poet  sang,  perhaps,  of  Troilus  ;  he  told,  maybe,  tales 
on  the  road  to  Canterbury ;  Deschamps  never  heard  of 
that  ;  no  one  did  in  France  ;  no  other  French  poet 
spoke  of  any  other  English  poet  for  ages.  When 
the  Renaissance  came,  Chaucer  was  totally  ignored  in 
France,  and  Deschamps  himself  was  scarcely  better 
known. 

Yet,  the  connection  and  intercourse  between  the  two 
nations  was  never  interrupted  ;  in  peace  and  in  war 
they  remained  constantly  in  touch.  The  kings  of 
France  had  Scotch  auxiliaries  who  swore  "by  Saint 
Treignan "    and     spoke     Scottish  ;     English    students 

to  "J.  J.  Rousseau  et  le  cosmopolitisme  litteraire,"  Paris,  1895. 
Part  of  the  present  work  appeared  in  "  Cosmopolis,"  1896-97; 
chapter  i.  was  published  in  a  condensed  shape  (and  under  a  title  not 
of  my  own  choosing)  in  the  "Nineteenth  Century,"  1898. 


4  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

elbowed  French  students  at  the  Paris  University  ;  the 
sovereigns  accredited  to  each  other  poets  and  authors 
of  fame  as  ambassadors.  Charles  VII.  of  France  was 
represented  by  Alain  Chartier  in  Scotland  ;  Charles  VIII. 
by  the  humanist,  Robert  Gaguin  in  England,  the  said 
Gaguin  falling  into  a  mad  quarrel  with  the  rash  laureate 
of  the  early  Tudors.  Skelton  aimed  wild  invectives  at 
him,  but  allotted  to  him  none  the  less  a  crown  of  laurel 
and  a  place  by  the  side  of  Apollo  ;  for,  after  all,  one 
must  be  just.  Homer,  Cicero,  and  Petrarch  were 
therefore  to  be  seen  on  Skelton's  Parnassus — ■ 

"  With  a  frere  of  Frauncc  men  call  syr  Gagwyne, 
That  frownyd  on  me  full  angcrly  and  pale."  ' 

And  well  he  might.  Henry  VIII.  sent  as  ambassadors 
to  France  the  cleverest  poets  of  his  day,  those  who  best 
understood  the  delicate  art  of  sonnet  writing,  the 
greatest  admirers  of  Petrarch,  and  of  the  French  and 
Italian  models,  poets  who  were  impregnated  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Renaissance,  such  men  as  Sir  Thomas 
Wyatt,  and  "thee  "  —Bryan — "who  knows  how  great 
a  grace  in  writing  is."  But  neither  helped  to  spread 
in  France  a  knowledge  of  English  poetry.  Bryan  in 
particular  made  himself  famous  only  as  a  matchless 
drinker.  Little  importance  should  be  attached  to  his 
despatches,  wrote  the  Constable  of  Montmorency,  when 
he  has  written  them   "  after  supper."  2      The  English 

1  "  Garlande  or  Chapelet  of  Laurell  "  ;  "  Works,"  Dycc,  i. 
p.  371. 

:-  Letter  from  Constable  dc  Montmorency,  1538.  "  Corre- 
spondance  de  Castillon  et  dc  Marillac,"  Paris,  ed.  Kaulek,  1885, 
p.  78. 


EARLY  DAYS  5 

poet,  Sackville,  was  ambassador  to  France  during  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  ;  and  the  French  poet,  Du  Bartas, 
was  sent  on  diplomatic  missions  several  times,  to  the 
English  and  the  Scottish  courts. 

Marriages  tightened  periodically  the  bonds  between 
the  royal  and  aristocractic  families  of  the  French- 
speaking  and  English  -  speaking  countries.  Mary, 
the  sister  of  Henry  VIII.,  married  Louis  XII.  ; 
James  V.  of  Scotland,  married  first  a  daughter  of 
Francis  I.,  then  the  beautiful  Marie  de  Guise  ;  Marot 
celebrated  in  French  the  first  marriage,  and  Lyndesay 
deplored  in  English  the  early  death  of  the  princess.1 
Mary  Stuart,  great-niece  to  Henry  VIII.,  began  her 
royal  career  as  Queen  of  the  French  ;  interminable 
negotiations  prepared  a  union  betwee-n  Elizabeth  and 
the  House  of  France.  Later  on  a  daughter  of  Henri 
IV.  of  France  became  Queen  of  England  ;  a  sister  of" 
Charles  II.  married  the  brother  of  Louis  XIV. 

Numerous  Englishmen  visited  Paris  in  the  sixteenth 
century  and  appeared  either  at  court  or  at  the  Univer- 
sity, attracted  by  the  eclat  of  the  fetes  of  the  one  and 
the  teaching  of  the  other  ;  for  the  "  grand' ville  "  with 
her  numerous  painters,  her  savants,  her  roval  lecturers 
recently  created  by  Francis  I.  (an  institution  which  has 
developed  into  the  "  College  de  France  "  of  to-day),  had 
followed  the  Renaissance  movement  eagerly,  and  at- 
tracted foreigners  from  every  part.  Henry  VIII.  sent 
his  natural  son,  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  to  be  taught 

1  "  Chant  nuptial  du  Roy  d'Escosse  et  de  Madame  Magdaleine 
premiere  fille  de  France"  (Jan.  1,  1537),  by  Marot.  "The  Deplora- 
tioun  of  the  deith  of  Ouene  Magdalene,"  by  Lyndesay  ;  "Works," 
Early  English  Text  Society,  5th  part. 


6  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

there  ;  English  Linacre  struck  there  a  friendship  with 
French  Budee  who  "  opened  freely  his  mind  and  bosom 
to  him,"  a  thing,  Budee  said,  "he  would  not  do  for  many 
people."  Surrey  spent  a  year  in  Paris.  The  learned 
Sir  Thomas  Smith  made  a  prolonged  stay  in  France  as 
ambassador  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  some  time  as  a 
prisoner  in  Melun,  for  ambassadorial  privileges  were 
not  always  a  perfect  safeguard  in  those  days.  Such 
mishaps  did  not  matter  so  much  then  as  they  would  now  ; 
Sir  Thomas,  when  liberated,  returned  very  quietly  to 
his  functions,  remained  a  few  years  more  in  France, 
kept  up  his  connection  with  the  country,  and  had  his 
principal  works  printed  in  Paris  by  Robert  Estienne  : 
his  book  on  the  pronunciation  of  Greek,  and  even  a 
work  on  the  writing  of  English,  which  he  had  com- 
piled while  taking  the  waters  in  fashionable  Bourbon 
l'Archambault.  Robert  Estienne  had  to  procure  some 
Anglo-Saxon  types  to  print  this  last  book.  It  was, 
however,  specially  written  for  English  people ;  few 
others  read  it  ;  and  whatever  may  have  been  the 
case  with  the  rest  of  the  issue,  the  copy  preserved  in 
the  National  Library  at  Paris  has  certainly  not  suffered 
from  being  over-read.1  Scotchmen,  like  Major  and 
Buchanan,  filled  chairs  in  France  ;  the  latter,  "  prince 
of  the  poets  of  our  day,"  according  to  Florent  Chretien, 
wrote  Latin  tragedies,  which  were  performed  by  his 
pupils  at  Bordeaux  (one  of  them  being  young  Mon- 
taigne), and  translated  later  into  French.2      He  paid, 

1  "  De  recta   et   cmendata  lingua:  Anglicae   scriptione  Dialogus," 
Paris,   1568,  40. 

2  "  La  tragedie  dc  Jcphtce,"  translated  by  Claude  dc  Vesel,  Paris, 
1566,  8°;    " Jephte   ou   le   Vceu,"   translated  by  Florent  Chretien, 


EARLY  DAYS  J 

at  times,  high  compliments  to  France  :  "  Hail,  happy 
France,  sweet  nurse  of  arts,  mother  country  of  all 
nations  !  "  r  and  grateful  France  repaid  his  homage  in 
translating,  by  the  hand  of  Du  Bellay,  one  of  his  Latin 
poems  : — 

"Adieu  ma  lyre,  adieu  les  sons 
De  tes  inutiles  chansons  .   .   ." 

The  religious  troubles  which  caused  so  much 
bloodshed  throughout  Europe  helped  also  to  increase 
the  intercourse  between  the  two  countries,  each  being 
used  alternately  as  a  place  of  refuge  by  the  exiles  ot 
the  other.  The  great  English  Bible  of  1539  was 
printed  in  Paris  by  Francois  Regnault,  on  paper  "of 
the  best  sort  in  France,"  according  to  Coverdale,  who 
fortunately  was  present  to  correct  the  proofs.2  Groups 
of  French  and  English  Protestants,  moreover,  met  and 
lived  together  in  the  Low  Countries,  Strasbourg,  and 
Geneva.  Later  on  groups  of  English  Catholics  are  to 
be  found  at  Douai,  Saint-Omer,  Reims,  and  Paris. 

French  visitors,  on  the  other  hand,  came  to  England  ; 
they  were  doubtless  much  less  numerous  than  in  Italy 

Orleans,  1567,  40  ;  "  Baptiste  ou  la  Calomnie,"  translated  by  Pierre 
de  Brinon,  Rouen,  1613. 

1  "  At  tu,  beata  Gallia, 

Salve,  bonarum  blanda  nutrix  artium, 

Sermone  comis,  patria  gentium  omnium 

Communis." 
"Opera  omnia,"  ed.    Ruddimann,    Leyden,    1725,    2  vol.  40,  vol.  ii. 
p.  292. 

2  The  authorities,  however,  interfered,  and  the  publication  had  to 
be  finished  in  London.  At  the  time  ot  Elizabeth  and  James,  the 
English  Catholic  Bible,  translated  under  the  supervision  of  Cardinal 
Allen,  was  printed  in  France  :   Reims  and  Douai,  1582-1609. 


cS  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

(part  of  which  country  was  French  at  that  time),  but 
some  came,  however  :  diplomates,  soldiers,  merchants, 
poets,  exiles,  and  a  few  sight-seers,  the  latter  being  rare 
enough. 

French  printers  :  such  men  as  Jean  Barbier  and 
Richard  Pynson,  crossed  the  Channel  and  settled  in 
London  ;  for  while  in  France  there  was  a  superfluity 
of  these  craftsmen,  in  England  there  were  too  few. 
Printing  presses  existed  in  forty-one  French  towns 
before  1500,  but  in  England  at  this  epoch  only 
Westminster,  London,  Oxford,  and  St.  Albans  were 
supplied  with  them.  Richard  Pynson  became  printer 
to  the  king,  preserved  his  connection  with  France, 
ordered  his  material  from  Rouen,  and  used  a  finch 
(pinson)  as  his  crest.  But  the  English  produce  of  his 
presses  remained  entirely  ignored  in  France. 

A  few  tourists  were  making  their  appearance  in 
England,  and  already  guide-books  were  being  compiled 
for  them,  rude  specimens  of  the  Joanne  and  Murrays' 
art:  Paradin's  guide-book  in  Latin,  1545,  Perlin's, 
in    French,    1 5 5 8. x      Paradin    mentions    briefly  where 

1  "  Angliae  Descriptionis  Compendium,  per  Guilielmum  Para- 
dinum,"  Paris,  1  54.5  ;  "  Description  des  Royaulmes  d'Angleterre 
et  d'Ecosse,  compose  par  Maistre  Estienne  Perlin,"  Paris,  1558.  A 
few  more  guide-books  or  relations  of  journeys  might  be  quoted, 
such  as  the  "Guide  des  Chemins  d'Angleterre  fort  necessaire  a 
ceux  cpui  y  voyagent,"  Paris,  1579,  by  }.  Bernard  (author  of  a 
"  Discours  des  plus  memorables  faicts  des  Roys  et  Grands  Seigneurs 
d'Angleterre"  (same  date)  ;  or  the  "Voyage  du  Due  de  Rohan, 
fait  en  1'an,  1 600,"  Amsterdam,  Elzev.,  1644.  The  Duke  took 
passage  at  Flushing  for  Margate  ;  "  Mais  je  croy,  n'ayant  declare 
mon  intention  aux  vents,  ils  ne  me  furent  favorables  pour  ce 
dessein,"  p.  191.  It  took  him  four  days  and  five  nights  to  reach 
England,  and  even  then  he  did  not  land  where  he  wanted.    Payen, 


EARLY  DAYS  9 

England  is,  and  how  one  gets  to  it,  which  are  its 
chief  ports,  and  in  what  a  strange  manner  its  affairs 
are  administered  by  a  sort  of  Senate.  He  gives  a  list 
of  the  kings  who  have  died  a  violent  death,  and  a 
host  of  details  showing  small  sympathy  for  the  country 
he  visits. 

Master  Etienne  Perlin  sojourned  in  England  under 
Edward  VI.  (whom,  by  the  way,  he  calls  "  Edouard 
Quint  ")  and  Queen  Mary.  That  he  was  astounded 
by  all  he  saw  is  manifest  from  the  confused  nature 
of  his  impressions.  He  mingles  cooking  recipes  with 
appreciations  on  the  Government  ;  flies  off"  to  the 
kitchen  and  back  to  Parliament  in  a  fever  of  bewilder- 
ment. He  too  notes  disagreeable  details  complacently, 
but  he  occasionally  does  justice,  according  to  his  views, 
to  his  neighbours  over-sea.  Thus  London  seems  to 
him  "  a  very  fine  town,  and,  after  Paris,  one  of  the 
finest,  largest,  and  wealthiest  in  the  whole  world.  And 
one  must  not  talk  of  Lisbon,  nor  of  Antwerp,  nor 
of  Pampeluna."  The  English  have  two  Universities. 
"  Cambruche  "  and  "  Auxonne,"  and  many  "  milors," 
such  as  the  "  Milors  Notumbellant,  Ouardon,  Grek 
and  Suphor."  ' 

Perlin    notes    several    traits    which    will    henceforth 

later,  was  three  days  crossing  from  Dieppe,  owing  to  a  dead  calm. 
"Voyages,"  1666,  p.  10. 

1  Northumberland,  Wharton,  Grey,  Suffolk.  "  It  falleth  out," 
writes  Harrison  at  that  time,  "  that  few  forren  nations  can  rightlie 
pronounce  our  [language]  .  .  .  especiallie  the  French.  ...  It  is 
a  pastime  to  read  how  Natalis  Comes  (Conti,  the  Italian  from 
whom  Scarron  took  the  subject  of  his  "  Typhon  "),  in  like  manner 
speaking  of  our  affaires,  dooth  clip  the  names  of  our  English  lords." 
"Description  of  Britaine,"  1577,  book  i. 


io  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

recur  continually  in  guide-books.  First,  the  people 
do  not  love  the  French  over  much,  and  when,  they 
see  a  Frenchman  they  call  him  "  France  chesneue  " 
(knave),  "  France  dogue,"  and  even  "  or  son." 
"  French  dog  "  had  already  been  the  standard  insult 
for  centuries,  since  we  find  it  in  Froissart  ;  it  was 
destined  to  survive  for  centuries  more.  The  women 
of  England  are  very  pretty  :  on  that  point  also  there 
will  be  unanimity  henceforth.  That  the  men  are  great 
drunkards,  "  de  grands  yvrongnes,"  is  another  remark 
unanimously  repeated.  When  they  drink  they  pro- 
nounce cabalistic  words,  always  the  same,  which, 
according  to  Perlin,  are,  "  drind  you  ;  iplaigiou  "  ; 
the  reply  being,   "  Tanque  artelay." 

Their  navy  is  strong.  Their  artisans  earn  and 
spend  a  great  deal  :  a  wealth  which  is  noted  by  every 
traveller  down  to  Voltaire  ;  one  sees  artisans  who 
"  stake  a  crown  at  tennis "  ;  they  go  to  the  tavern 
and  make  good  cheer  "  on  rabbits,  hares,  and  all  sorts 
of  viands."  These  taverns  are  remarkable  for  their 
comfort  ;  they  have  "  much  hay  [rushes]  on  the 
wooden  flooring,  and  many  tapestry  pillows  upon 
which  the  travellers  sit."  Such  were  the  taverns  in 
which,  a  few  years  later,  Shakespeare  was  to  meet 
Ben  Jonson  ;  and  Falstaff",  Prince  Hal. 

The  English  are  turbulent  and  fickle.  On  this  point 
again  there  is  unanimity.  That  nation  which  is  usually 
looked  upon  now  as  essentially  "  conservative,"  passed 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  at  the  Renaissance,  and  up  to  the 
French  Revolution  for  the  most  dangerous  and  hard 
to  manage,  "  les  plus  perilleux  et  merveilleux  a  tenir," 
in     Europe.     The     period     at     which     Perlin     visited 


EARLY  DAYS  u 

I  England   was    not   calculated   to  give   him    a   different 

;  opinion.  Nothing,  he  writes,  can  be  more  fickle  than 
the  English  :  "  Now  they  will  love  a  prince,  turn 
your  hand,    they  will  want   to  kill  and  crucify  him." 

[  The  misfortunes  that  overtake  the  "  milors "  are 
incredible.  "  In  that  country  you  will  not  find  many 
great  lords  whose  kinsfolk  have  not  had  their 
heads  struck  off.  Certes,  I  had  liefer  (with  due 
reverence  to  the  reader)  be  a  swineherd  and  keep 
safe  my  head."     And  he  adds  thoughtfully  :   "  Alack, 

i  Lord  God,  how  happy  is  he  who  lives  under  a  good 
king  !  " 

These  frequent  executions  encourage,  he  considers, 
the   natural   ferocity   of  the    nation,   for    the    sight    is 

i  horrible  to  behold.  Think  what  it  is  to  see  a  man 
like  that  "  Milor  Notumbellant,"  erstwhile  master  of 
the  whole  country  and  queen-maker,  in  the  hands  of 
the  headsman,    a  headsman   who    seemed    a  butcher ! 

j  "  for  I  was  present  at  the  execution,  and  the  headsman 
had  on  a  white  apron  like  a  butcher.  This  high  and 
mighty  lord  made  great  lamentations  and  regrets  at 
dying,  and  said  this  orison  in  English,  throwing 
himself  on  his  knees,  looking  heavenwards  and  weeping 
tenderly  :  '  Lorde  God,  mi  fatre  prie  fort  ous  poores 
siners  nond  vand  in  the  hoore  of  our  theath.'  '  .  .  . 
And  after  execution  done,  you  would  have  seen  little 
children  receiving  the  blood  which  had  fallen  through 
some  chinks  in  the  scaffold." 

England,    however,    was    visited    bv    other    people 
besides  printers,  courtly  gentlemen  and  diplomates.   The 
best  French  writers  and  greatest  poets  of   the   period 
1    Sit  in  Perlin. 


12  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

crossed   the   Channel.     Jacques    Grevin,   famous    as   a 
lyric  and  dramatic  poet,  went  twice  to  England,  in  1561 
and    1567,  during    the    time  of   the    French  religious  j 
wars — 

"  Alors  qu'abandonne  aux  ondcs  popullaires 
Je  naviguoys  la  mcr  dcs  civilles  miseres."  x 

He  was  welcomed  by  the  French  Ambassador,  Jacques 
Bochetel  de  la  Forest-Thaumiere,  saw  the  sights, 
rowed  on  the  Thames,  visited  the  town,  and  admired 
its  palaces,  its  places  of  entertainment,  its  peerless  queen, 
to  whom  he  sent  a  rhymed  compliment  as  a  new  year's 
gift,  i56[i].2  He  found  all  qualities  united  in 
Elizabeth — 

"  Vous  gardez  la  doulccur  avccquc  la  puissance."  3 

The  places  of  entertainment  he  visited  offered  to  his 
sight  those  sanguinary  bull  and  bear  baitings  for  which 
the  English  capital  was  famous.  But  the  "  deaf  waters 
of  the  Thames,  and  the  silent  stones  of  the  palaces," 
could  not  assuage  the  sorrow  he  felt,  far  from  those  he 

1  "  Lc  Chant  du  eigne. — A  la  mageste  de  la  Roync  d'Angleterre," 
preserved  in  the  MS.  Lat.  17,075,  in  the  National  Library  of  Paris, 
unpublished. 

2  Same  "  Chant  du  eigne."  He  feigns  at  the  end  to  undergo 
a  metamorphosis  and  to  become  one  of  the  swans  on  the  Thames — 

"  |e  sentis  mes  deux  bras,  mes  flancs  et  ma  poictnne 
Se  charger  peu  apres  du  plumage  d'un  eigne, 
Non  pour  nager  les  caux,"  .   .   .  &c. — {Ibid.,  fol.  91.) 
i   Ibid,  fol.,  90. 


EARLY  DAYS  13 

oved  :  l  the  people  of  England  seemed  to  him  even 
more  "  tumultuous "  in  their  peace  2  than  the  French 
people  in  the  midst  of  their  civil  wars  ;  his  heart  bled 
at  the  thought  of  the  distant  mother  country,  of  sweet 
France,  "  France,  my  sweet  mother,"  and  he  expressed 
his  feelings  in  verses  of  matchless  tenderness  and 
beauty — 

"  France,  ma  douce  mere,  helas,  je  t'ai  laisse, 
Non  sans  un  long  regret  et  une  longue  plainte, 
Non  sans  avoir  au  cceur  une  douleur  empreinte, 
Et  un  long  pensement  mille  fois  repense." 

Ronsard  in  his  youth  made  two  journeys  to  Scot- 
land and  one  to  England.  He  spent  thirty  months 
in  Scotland  and  six  in  London.  He  had  performed 
the  long  sea  voyage  between  France  and  Scotland  in 
the  company  of  one  of  the  most  famous  poets  of 
the  latter  country,  the  quick-witted  Sir  David 
jLyndesay.  Claude  Binet,  the  biographer  of  Ronsard, 
■  goes    so     far     as    to     affirm     that     he     accomplished 

i    *  "  Ores,  dans  un  basteau,  je  rame  la  Tamise, 
Et  voy  de  mains  pallais  l'excellante  beaute  ; 
Je  voy  ore  un  toreau,  ore  ung  ours  qui  se  dresse 
Contre  l'assault  mordant  des  dogues  plains  d'adresse  .  .   . 
Mais  l'onde  qui  est  sourde  et  la  pierre  muette, 
Les  bestes  sans  raison  ne  me  font  qu'ennuyer 
Depuis  qu'il  me  souvient  de  ceulx  que  je  regrette." 

j  See  the  "  Sonnets  d'Angleterre  et  de  Flandre,"  discovered  and 
i  published  bv  L.  Dorez,  "  Bulletin  du  Bibliophile,"  September  1  5, 
'  1898. 

2  "  Qui  ne  trouve  rien  bon,  a  qui  rien  ne  peult  plaire, 
Que  cella  qu'il  a  fait  ou  qu'il  pretend  de  taire 
Et  qui  pensc  tout  aultre  estre  defectueuw"— "  Sonnets,"  Ibid. 


14  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

the  extraordinary  feat  of  learning  the  language 
"  Having  learnt  the  language  with  great  rapidity,  he 
was  received  with  such  favour  [in  London]  that 
France  was  very  near  losing  one  whom  she  had  bred 
to  be  some  day  the  trumpet  of  her  fame.  But  the 
good  instinct  of  the  true  Frenchman  tickled  him  every 
hour,  and  invited  him  to  return  home  ;  and  he 
did  so."  l 

He  did  so,  and  if  a  knowledge  of  English  is  not 
one  of  the  fabulous  attainments  lavishly  attributed  to 
him  by  Binet,  it  can,  at  all  events,  be  asserted  that  his 
work  does  not  show  the  slightest  trace  of  any  acquaint- 
ance with  English  literature.  He  does  not  seem  to  have 
preserved  any  remembrance  of  Lyndesay,  whose  fame, 
however,  was  destined  to  cross  the  seas,  his  English 
poems  being  translated  during  the  sixteenth  century, 
not  into  French,  it  is  true,  but  into  Danish.2 
Greatly  admired  by  Mary  Stuart,  the  "  star-eyed 
queen "  as  he  calls  her,  and  by  Queen  Elizabeth, 
author  of  several  pieces  dedicated  to  them,  panegyrist 
of  "  Mylord  Robert  Dudley,  Comte  de  Leicester, 
l'ornement  des  Anglois,"  Ronsard  scarcely  left,  among 
the  huge  mass  of  his  works,  so  much  as  a  vague 
allusion  to  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  as  an  English 
poet.     He    was    not    aware    that    "  cet    ornement    des 

1  "  Discours  de  la  vie  de  Pierre  de  Ronsard,"  Paris,  1586,  40,  p.  5. 
Binet  says,  by  mistake,  that  the  journey  took  place  on  the  occasion 
of  the  second  marriage  of  James  V. 

2  "  Dialogus "  (on  Monarchy,  and  other  works),  by  "  Herr 
David  Lyndsay  Riddcr  de  Monte,"  Copenhagen,  1591,  40.  Several 
of  Lyndesay's  works  were  published  in  English,  "at  the  command 
and  expenses  of  Maister  Samuel  Jascuy  in  Paris"  15585  but  this 
seems  to  be  a  fancy  localisation,  as  no  such  printer  is  known. 


EARLY  DAYS  15 

Anglois,"  Leicester,  was  one  of  the  chief  patrons  and 
promoters  of  dramatic  art  in  England.  He  had 
observed  the  presence  of  swans  on  the  Thames,  and 
that  seemed  to  him  a  good  omen  for  the  poetical  future 
of  the  race  ;  but  the  way  in  which  he  expresses  himself 
clearly  shows  that  he  had  seen  the  swans  with  his  own 
eves  but  not  the  poets.1  The  fact  is  the  more  notice- 
able since  Ronsard  had  been  careful,  before  he  wrote,  to 
refresh  his  memory  of  England  by  a  conversation  with 
a  newly  returned  French  traveller.  The  traveller  had 
I  described  to  him  the  queen,  a  youthful,  learned,  elegant, 
beautiful  queen,  who  loved  all  arts,  knew  everything, 
and  spoke  all  languages — 

"  On  dit  que  vous  savez  conter  en  tous  langages." 

He  had  given  Ronsard  full  particulars  about  the  splendid 

I  way  in  which  Elizabeth  loved  to  dress  and  "  adonise  " 

.  herself,  to  mix  gold  and  pearls  with  her  "  longues  tresses 

'.  blondes,"  and  he  had  told  him  how  she  succeeded  so 

well  in  making  herself  admirable  that  the  sight  would 

move    even    "  l'estomach    d'un    barbare    Scythois."  - 

But  the  traveller,  who  had  noted  all  those  details  and 

many  others  given  in  full  by  Ronsard,  had  not  had  the 

1  "  Bientot  verra  la  Tamise  superbe 

Maints  cygnes  blancs,  les  hotes  de  son  herbe, 
Jeter  un  chant  pour  signe  manifeste 
Que  maint  poete  et  la  troupe  celeste 
Des  muses  sceurs  y  feront  quelque  jour, 
Laissant  Parnasse,  un  gracieux  sejour." 

2  "  S'il  contemplait  la  douce  mignotise 

De  votre  chef,  alors  qu'il  s'adonise 
D'un  beau  bonnet,  ou  le  voyant  encor 
Couvert  d'un  ret  fait  de  perles  et  d'or." 


1 6  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

curiosity  to  open   "  Tottel's  Miscellany,"   widely  reai 
then    in    London,   and    whose    fifth    edition    had   just 
appeared    (1567),  and  he  did  not  think  fit  to  give  the 
head  of  the  Pleiade  information  concerning  the  English 
rivals  of  Petrarch,  Marot,  and  Saint  Gelais.1 

Another  visitor,  and  a  famous  one,  keenest  of  keen 
observers,  came  to  England  during  the  same  reign. 
Brantome,  whose  father  had  been  united  by  the  ties 
of  a  "  grande  amitie  "  to  Henry  VIII.,  appeared 
twice  at  the  Court  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  When, 
at  a  later  date,  wounds  obliged  him  to  renounce  an 
active  life,  and  he  began  to  note  all  he  remembered 
of  his  chequered  career,  he  found  room  in  his  memoirs 
for  three  things  he  had  been  struck  by  among  all  those 
he  had  seen  in  England  :  a  play,  a  picture,  and  a  breed 
of  dogs.  The  play  was  a  mask  of  the  wise  and  foolish 
virgins  performed  at  Court  in  1561  (the  year  of 
"Gorboduc").2  "The  lady  performers  were  quite 
beautiful,  honest  and  well-behaved  ;  they  took  us  French 

1  "  Le  Boccagc  Royal,"  1567.  Elsewhere  Ronsard  again  mentions 
England  as  a  land  of  poetry,  but  he  remains  just  as  vague.  Poetry 
is  like  a  will-o'-the-wisp, 

"Lequel  aux  nuits  d'hyver,   comme   un   presage  est  veu 
Ores  dessus  un   fleuve,  ores  sus  unc  prec.   .  .   . 
Elle  a  veu  l'Allcmagne,  et  a  pris  accroissance 
Aux  rives  d'Angleterre,  en  Escosse  et  en  France, 
Sautant  deca,  dela,  et   prenant  grand  plaisir, 
En   estrange  pays,  divers  homines  choisir." 

("Discours  a  Jacques  Grcvin.") 

2  "The  Tragedie  of  Gorboduc  wereof  three  actes  were  wryttcn 
by  Thomas  Nortone  and  the  two  last  by  Thomas  Sackvyle." 
London,  156^  ;  first  performance,  Christmas,  1561  (sec  infra,  pp. 
33,  35,  217,  383  ft".). 


EARLY  DAYS  17 

to  dance  with  them.  Even  the  queen  danced,  and  she 
did  so  with  excellent  good  grace  and  royal  majesty  ; 
for  she  was  then  in  all  her  beauty  and  grace.  There 
would  be  only  praise  for  her  had  she  not  caused  the 
poor  Queen  of  Scots  to  be  executed." 

The   picture   was   a  representation  of  the   battle   of 
Cerisoles,  painted   by  order  of  Henry  VIII.  and  pre- 
served in   one   of  the  Queen's  closets.     But  the  only 
sight  which  seems  to  have  given  the  visitor  a  heart- 
beat was  the  unexpected  encounter,  in  the  Tower,  of 
i certain   dogs,    which    suddenly    reminded    him    of   his 
native   Perigord.     Francois  de   Bourdeille,   his    father, 
taken  to  England  by  Henry  VIII.,  had  observed,  while 
shooting  with  the  king,  that  the  royal  dogs  were  "but 
lindifferent  dogs  either  for  the  partridge    or   the   hare," 
and  said  that  he  would  give  his  Majesty  some  of  his 
own,  "  much  better  looking,  better  trained,  and  black 
as  moles  all  of  them."     He   did  as  he  had  said,  and 
sent  to  the  king  six  dogs,  four  of  them  being  bitches. 
With    filial    joy    Bran  to  me     discovered,     among     the 
;"  spaniels    of  the   Queen   of  England,"    a  quantity   of 
1  those  dogs,  as  beautiful  as  before  and  as  black  as  ever  ; 
;they  had  increased  to  the  number  of  twenty-four,  and 
the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  certified  their  origin  and 
i pedigree  :   "  Feu  M.  votre  pere  y  envoya  cette  race."  • 
On   poets   Brantome  is  mute  ;  on  dramas  and  theatres 
he  is  mute  also.      He  had  been  able  to  see,  during  his 
second  journey  in  1579,  the  two  or  three  great  theatres 
i  newly  built  in   London  (while  there  was  only  one   in 
Paris),  but  he  remembered  only  the  dogs. 

1  "CEuvres,"   Societe  de  l'Histoire  de   France,  vol.  iii.,   pp.  216, 
290  ;   x.,  p.  54. 


1 8  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

II. 

Very  different  were  the  results  of  this  intercourse 
in  the  two  countries.  While  English  literature  con- 
tinued ignored  in  France,  French  literature  was  familiar 
to  everybody  in  London.  Skelton  imitates  the 
"  Pelerinage  de  la  vie  humaine,"  Barclay  translates 
Gringoire,  Wyatt  derives  his  inspiration  not  only  from 
the  Italians,  but  also  from  Marot  and  Saint  Gelais  ; 
Spenser  copies  Marot,  translates  the  Roman  sonnets  of 
Du  Bellay,  and  borrows  from  French  literature  the  idea 
of  his  royal  and  noble  shepherds  :  Raleigh  is  in  his 
lines  the  "  shepheard  of  the  ocean,"  and  Elizabeth  is 
the  "  great  shepheardesse,"  in  the  same  way  as  Louise 
de  Savoie  is,  in  Marot,  "la  mere  au  grand  berger," 
Francis  I.  Margaret  of  Navarre  is  praised  by  Nash 
as  "a  maintener  of  mirth."  Rabelais,  "that  merry 
man  Rablays,"  1  is  famous  in  London  ;  famous  enough 
to  be  a  cause  of  anxiety  to  moralists  : 

"Let  Rabelais,  with  his  durtie  mouth  ..." 

writes  Guilpin  in  his  "  Skialetheia  "  (1598).      Ronsard 
figures  on   the  most  elegant  desks  ;   James  VI.  has  a 
copy  of  his  works,  which  comes  from  his  mother,  Mary  ! 
Stuart.      Montaigne  is  translated  and  becomes  familiar  ] 
to  Shakespeare  ;  Du  Bartas,  owing  partly  to  the  simili-  I 
tude  of  religion,  becomes  more  celebrated  in  England 
than  in  France  ;  even  the  "  sweete  conceites  "  of  Des-  ! 
portes,  as  Thomas  Lodge   is  pleased  to  call  them,  are 
"  englished    and    ordinarilie    in    everie    man's    hands " 

1  "  An  Almond  for  a  Parrat,"  attributed  to  Nash. 


EARLY  DAYS  19 

(1596)  l  ;  even  Pibrac  is  translated,  line  for  line,  the 
exquisite  platitude  of  the  model  being  reproduced  with 
unrelenting  care.2 

Kings  and  princes  set  the  example.  Henry  VIII. 
vies  "  with  his  good  brother  of  France  "  in  everything  ; 
Francis  is  an  able  wrestler,  so  is  Henry  ;  Francis  founds 
public  lectures,  so  does  Henry  ;  Francis  surrounds 
himself  with  painters,  so  does  Henry;  Francis  adopts 
an  elegant  cut  for  his  beard,  Henrv  adopts  the  same  ; 
Francis  is  a  musician,  so  is  Henry  ;  Francis  writes 
French  verses,  so  does  Henry,  and  here  is  a  specimen 
of  them  : — 

"  Adew  madam  et  ma  mastres, 
A  dew  mon  solas  et  mon  joy." 

The  daughter  of  Henry  VIII.,  Elizabeth,  had  trans- 
lated in  her  youth  the  "  Miroir  de  Fame  pecheresse  " 
of  Margaret  of  Navarre.  In  imitation  of  the  king,  the 
English  noblemen  paid  great  attention  to  French  cus- 
toms, fashions,  and  literature  ;  so  much  so  that  Sir 
Thomas  More  found  in  the  London  francomaniac  a 
fit  object  for  his  satire,  and  described,  with  his  usual 
humour,  the  fop  of  his  day,  who  wore  his  ribbons  and 
shoe-strings  French  fashion,  who  spoke  Italian  with  a 
French  accent,  and  even  English  with  a  French  accent, 
and  all  languages,  in  fact,  with  a  French  accent — except 
French  alone — 

"Nam  gallicam  solam  sonat  Britannice." 


1  "  Margarite  of  America." 

2  Like   Du  Bartas,  by   Sylvester  :    "  The  quadrains    of  Guy  du 
Faur,  lord  of  Pibrac,"  London,  1605,  8°. 


2o  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

But  there  was  no  reciprocity.  English  was  a  language 
unknown  in  France  ;  English  literature  was,  to  Parisian 
men  of  letters,  as  though  it  did  not  exist.  None  of  the 
English  books  printed  in  London  by  the  Frenchman 
Pynson  with  types  brought  from  Rouen  found  any 
purchasers  in  France.  Anglo-French  vocabularies  and 
grammars  were  compiled  during  the  sixteenth  century, 
sometimes  by  English  sometimes  by  French  people,  by 
Barclay  in  1521,  by  Palsgrave,  "  Angloys,  gradue  de 
Paris,"  in  1530/  by  Saint-Lien  "gentilhomme  Bour- 
bonnois  "in  the  time  of  Shakespeare  :  all  these  works 
were  meant  to  teach  French  to  the  English,  and  not  the 
reverse.  The  need  of  English  grammars  was  by  no  means 
felt  in  France.  Palsgrave  helped  to  make  known  French 
literature  by  giving  selections  from  the  best  authors — 
Alain  Chartier,  Guillaume  de  Lorris,  &c.  Saint-Lien, 
who  translated  his  name  into  English,  Holyband, 
became  almost  famous  ;  his  "  French  Littleton  "  had 
countless  editions  ;  he  could  secure  commendatory 
lines  from  no  less  a  person  than  George  Gascoigne, 
lost  lines  if  any  !  for  Holyband's  treatises  have  long 
ceased  to  be  considered  "  a  most  easy,  perfect,  and 
absolute  way  to  learne  the  French  tongue — -" 

"This  pcarlc  of  price  which  Englishmen  have  sought 
So  farre  abroad,  and  cost  them  there  so  deare, 
Is  now  found  out  within  our  country  here, 
And  better  cheape  amongst  us  may  be  bought — 
1  meane  the  French,  that  pearle  of  pleasant  speech,"  &c. 

1  "Here  bcgvnneth  the  introductory  to  wrytc  and  pronounce 
Frenche,"  London,  Copland,  1521,  by  Alexander  Barclay.  "  Les- 
clarcissement  de  la  Langue  Francoysc "  (in  English,  despite  its 
French   title;  dedicated   to   Henry  VIII.),    1530,  4.0,  by  Palsgrave. 


EARLY  DAYS  21 

— a  sonnet,  complete,  "  Tarn  Marti  quam  Mercuric" 
Unlike  Palsgrave,  who  would  not  sell  his  grammars 
to  all  comers,  for  fear  of  losing  his  pupils,  Saint-Lien 
sold  his  by  the  hundred  and  resorted  to  other  means 
in  order  to  fill  his  school  :  he  inserted  in  his  books 
familiar  dialogues  on  himself,  in  which  he  gave  his 
address  and  his  terms,  and  disparaged  rival  teachers, 
of  whom  too  many,  alas,  are  "  fort  negligens  et 
paresseux,"  quite  the  reverse  of  one  whom  we  have 
given  as  a  master  to  our  bov  :  "Jan  comment  s'appelle 
ton  maistre  ? — II  s'appelle  M.  Claude  de  Sainliens."  x 

Saint-Lien  had,  in  fact,  many  rivals,  and  there  was 
more  than  one  school  like  his  own,  not  only  in  London 
but  also  in  the  country.  The  translator  of  Du 
Bartas  and  Pibrac,  Joshuah  Sylvester,  learnt  French 
in  Southampton  at  a  school  where,  savs  Dr.  Grosart, 
"  it  was  a  rule  all  should  speak  French  ;  he  who  spoke 
English,  though  only  a  sentence,  was  obliged  to  wear  a 
fool's  cap  at  meals  and  to  continue  to  wear  it  till  he 
caught  another  in  the  same  fault."  2 

To  Saint-Lien's  compendious  vocabulary  succeeded, 
in  161 1,  Cotgrave's  large  dictionary,  a  work  of  con- 
siderable importance,  carefully   prepared  with  the  help 

1  "The  French  Littleton  :  a  most  easy,  perfect,  and  absolute 
way  to  learne  the  French  tongue,  set  forth  by  Claudius  Holyband, 
gentil-homme  Bourbonnois,"  London,  1630,  120.  Dedicace 
dated  London,  March  25,  1597.  The  first  edition  is  of  1566; 
other  editions  in  1578,  1581.  1593,  &c.  He  had  published  a 
"French  Schoolmaister,"  to  learn  French  without  a  teacher,  in 
1573,  and  a  "Dictionarie  French  and  English"  in  1593, 
London,  40. 

2  Grosart,  "Complete  Works  of  Sylvester,"  London,  1880, 
2  vols.,   8°,  vol.   i.  p.   x. 


22  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

of  friends,  who  wrote  to  the  author  from  France  and 
supplied  him  with  information  as  to  the  real  meaning 
of  words.  But  this,  again.,  was  an  English  work,  printed 
in  London,  and  intended  specially  for  an  English 
public.  The  dictionary  went  through  numerous 
editions  in  the  seventeenth  century,  all  printed  in 
England.  The  edition  of  1650  was  preceded  by  an 
essay  on  the  French  language  by  James  Howell,  who 
had  travelled  in  France,  and  who,  although  he  did 
not  acknowledge  it,  drew  from  the  "  Recherches 
de  la  France  "  of  Pasquier  all  his  information,  quo- 
tations, explanations  of  proverbs,  and  comical  mistakes, 
this  one  for  instance  :  "  Scaliger  would  etymologize 
[Languedoc]  from  langue  d'Ouy  (sic)  whereas  it  comes 
from  langue  de  Got  in  regard  to  the  Goths  and 
Saracens."  It  all  came,  in  fact,  from  Pasquier, 
except  the  Saracens,  who  were  added  by  Howell  as  an 
extra  ornament.  He  introduced,  moreover,  words  of 
his  own  in  praise  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  who  "  also  had 
a  privat  place  in  Paris  called  l'Academie  des  beaux 
esprits,  where  forty  of  the  choicest  wits  in  France  used 
to  meet  every  Munday  to  refine  and  garble  the  French 
language  of  all  pedantic  and  old  words."  l 

There  was  no  room  in  Paris  for  any  Palsgrave  or  any 
Holyband  ;   a  professor  of  English  would  have  starved 

1  "  French-English  Dictionary,"  cd.  Howell,  London,  1650,  fol. 
Howell  addressed  himself  "to  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  Great 
Britain  that  are  desirous  to  speak  French  for  their  pleasure  and 
ornament,  as  also  to  all  merchant  adventurers  as  well  English  as 
.  .  .  Dutch  ...  to  whom  the  said  language  is  necessary  for 
commerce  and  forrcn  correspondence."  An  appeal  was  also  made 
"au  favorable  lectcur  Francois,"  by  Loiseau  de  Tourval  ;  but  there 
was  little  answer  to  that  appeal. 


EARLY  DAYS  23 

there.  While  Saint-Lien,  alarmed  at  the  number  of  his 
rivals,  was  charging  parents  to  note  well  his  address,  '*  by 
Saint-Paul's  churchyard,  at  the  sign  of  the  Golden  Ball," 
we  find  in  France,  during  the  sixteenth  century,  only 
a  few  rude  grammars  and  brief  lists  of  words  intended 
to  facilitate  the  trading  operations  of  merchants  with 
England.  The  chief  professor  of  English  at  that 
time,  Gabriel  Meurier,  lived,  not  in  Paris,  but  in 
Antwerp,  and  did  not  teach  English  alone.  He  had 
founded  and  directed  for  fifty  years  a  sort  of  polyglot 
institution  where  French,  Spanish,  Flemish,  Italian,  and 
English  could  be  learnt.  It  seems  evident  from  the 
title  of  his  works  on  the  English  language  that  he 
too  had  in  view  English  rather  than  French  pupils  : 
one  of  his  books,  for  instance,  is  called  :  "  Com- 
munications familieres  non  moins  propres  que  tres 
utiles  a  la  nation  angloise  desireuse  et  diseteuse  du 
langage  Francois."  1  One  of  his  treatises  appeared  in 
Rouen  ;  it  is  obviously  intended  for  traders  alone,  as 
one  may  learn  from  it  "to  speak  French  and  English, 
as  well  as  to  write  out  missives,  bonds,  receipts,  neces- 
sary for  all  merchants  desirous  of  trafficking."  - 

But  an  actual  smattering  of  English  was  a  very  rare 
accomplishment.  When  Rabelais  would  describe  the 
first  meeting  of  Pantagruel  with  Pan  urge  "  so  ill 
favoured  that  he  seemed  to  be  just  off  from  the  teeth 
of  dogs,"  he  was  able  to  represent  the  queer  fellow 
addressing  the  giant  in  all  sorts  of  languages  :  German, 
Italian,  Dutch,  Spanish,   Hebrew  and    even    Utopian  ; 

1  Antwerp,  1563,  83. 

2  Rouen,     1563    (Brunet)  ;    a  copy  of  the    164.1    edition   in   the 
British  Museum. 


24  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

but  he  had  obviously  no  one  near  at  hand  to  help  him 
with  an  English  speech.  English  figures  only  among 
the  supplementary  specimens  of  Panurge's  erudition 
introduced  into  subsequent  editions.  And  the  printer 
having  added  his  own  mistakes  to  the  incorrections  of 
the  master,  we  have,  as  a  result,  the  following  example 
of  "  English  as  she  was  spoke  "  in  sixteenth-century 
France  :  "  Lard  ghest  tholb  be  sua  virtuiss  be  intel- 
ligence :  ass  yi  body  schal  biss  be  naturall  relutht  tholb 
suld  of  me  pety  haue  for  natur  hass  ulss  equal y  maide  : 
bot  fortune  sum  exaltit  hess  and  oyis  depreuit  ..." 
&c.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  Con- 
tinental printers,  when  unchecked  by  English  cor- 
rectors, would  put  forth  garbled  texts  of  this  sort  even 
in  more  serious  cases.  A  dignified  treatise  by  Hooper 
printed  at  Zurich  in  i  547  begins  :  "  For  asmouche  as 
all  mightye  God  of  his  infinit  mercye  and  Goddenys 
preparyd  Ameanes  wherby  .  .  .,"  &c.  No  wonder 
Pantagruel,  on  hearing  the  strange  idiom,  simply 
exclaimed  "  Less  than  ever  !  "  cleverer  men  than  he 
might  well  have  thought  that  jargon  worse  than  the 
"language  of  the  Antipodes,  which  even  the  devil  would 
not  have  a  try  at."  l 

This  strange  phenomenon  will  seem  stranger  still 
when  we  remember  that,  during  this  great  period 
of  the  Renaissance,  curiosity  had  been  everywhere 
quickened.  In  France  a  thirst  for  knowledge  was  felt 
in  all  classes  of  society  :  foreign  arts,  strange  countries, 
forgotten  literatures,  new  systems  and  inventions  elicited 
keen  attention,  and  often  caused  enthusiasm.     People 

1  "Pantagruel,"  i.  9,  text  of  1542,  cd.  Marty-Laveaux,  i. 
p.    261, 


EARLY  DAYS  25 

were  fond  of  all  that  was  ancient  ;  but  as  fond  also  of 
all  that  was  unexpected  and  new.  At  a  time  when  an 
English  grammar  was  a  rarity  and  remained  unknown 
to  all  Frenchmen  of  any  account,  Villegagnon  and  Lery 
compiled  dialogues  and  vocabularies,  printed  in  1578,  to 
teach  the  language  of  Brazilian  natives,1  and  Ronsard, 
attracted  by  novelties,  as  all  his  contemporaries  were, 
warmed  at  the  descriptions  of  the  travellers,  and  dreamed 
of  going,  with  Villegagnon,  to  South  America  where 
man  lived  "  innocently,  free  of  garments  and  wickedness 
both  "— 

"  D'habits  tout  aussi  nu  qu'il  est  nu  de  malice."  2 

The  importance  of  foreign  languages  was  sure  to  be 
recognized  at  such  a  time  :  and  it  was  ;  but  with  no 
practical  result  so  far  as  English  was  concerned.  Mon- 
taigne wanted  young  people  to  be  early  taken  abroad 
I  to  rub  and  polish  their  brains  against  others',''  and 
to  learn  languages  on  the  spot.  Ronsard,  to  whom 
Boileau  attributes  opinions  exactly  contrary  to  those  he 
really  held,  insists  upon  the  French  tongue  being 
cultivated  above  all  others,  "  the  which  should  be  the 
nearer  thine  heart  that  it  is  thy  mother-tongue."  It 
must  be  studied,  even  in  its  dialects,  "  without  too 
much  affecting  the  speech  of  the  Court,  the  which  is 
oft  times  very  bad  as  being  damsels'  speech  "  {langage 
de  damoiselles).  Its  past  history  should  be  carefully 
learnt  :    "  Thou    must    not    reject    the    old    words   of 

'Included  by  Lery  in  his  "Voyage  au  Bresil,"  chap.  xx.  ; 
Heulard,  "Villegagnon  roi  d'Amerique,"  Paris,   1897. 

2  "  Discours  contre  la  Fortune,   a  Odet  de  Coligny,"   1  560. 


26  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

our  romances.  .  .  .  Thou  shalt  not  despise  old  French 
words.  ...  I  hold  them  still  in  vigour,  until  they 
have  given  birth  in  their  place  (like  an  old  stock) 
to  an  offshoot  ;  and  then  thou  shalt  use  the  offshoot 
and  not  the  stock  the  which  gives  all  its  substance  to  its 
little  child,  to  make  it  grow  and  finally  take  its  place." 
Ronsard,  however,  with  all  his  love  for  the  "  parler 
de  France,"  wills  that  the  'prentice  poet  should  learn 
foreign  languages  too  :  "  Praythee,  learn  them  with 
care  ;  it  will  be  a  means  to  enrich  thine  own,  as  from 
an  old  treasure  found  under  earth.  There  is  no  good 
writing  in  a  vulgar  tongue  if  one  does  not  know 
the  language  of  the  most  honourable  and  famous 
foreigners."  l  But  who  were  those  Most  Honourables  ? 
Judging  from  Ronsard's  own  works,  they  were  Petrarch, 
Ariosto,  Bembo,  and  even  obscure  Capilupi  ;  no  room 
was  found  among  them  for  any  Surrey,  Wyatt,  Sackville, 
or  Spenser. 

Such  a  view  was  not  at  all  an  isolated  one  ;  it  was, 
on  the  contrary,  the  common  opinion  of  the  day. 
Henri  Estienne,  brother  of  Sir  Thomas  Smith's  printer, 
published,  in  1579,  his  treatise  on  the  "  Precellence  du 
langage  Francois,"  written  to  show  that  French  could 

1  "  je  te  conseille  de  les  scavoir  parfaictement,  ct  d'ellcs,  comme 
d'un  vieil  tresor,  trouve  soubs  terre,  enrichir  ta  proprc  nation  ;  car  il 
est  fort  malaise  de  bien  escrire  en  langue  vulgaire  si  on  n'est  instruit 
en  celles  des  plus  honorables  et  fameux  estrangers."  "Art  Poctiquc." 
This  last  idea  had  not  crossed  the  mind  of  Ronsard  at  first  ;  it  is  ex- 
pressed only  in  the  edition  of  1573  (first  cd.  1565).  He  never  tires 
of  recommending  people  not  to  speak  Latin  in  French,  "de  n'ecorcher 
point  le  Latin  comme  nos  devanciers  qui  ont  trop  sottement  tir£ 
des  Romains  une  infinite  de  vocables  estrangers,  vu  qu'il  y  en  avoit 
d'aussi  bons  en  nostre  proprc  langage." 


EARLY  DAYS  27 

compare  advantageously  with  all  modern  languages. 
This  is  precisely  the  subject  chosen  for  competition 
by  the  Berlin  Academy  two  centuries  later.  Estienne 
declares  in  his  preface  that  the  French  language  has 
two  rivals — Italian  and  Spanish.  No  other  language 
is  of  any  account  ;  Italian  having  the  richest  literature 
is  the  one  against  which  the  champion  of  French  wages 
war  with  the  greatest  zeal.  Spanish  is  admitted  to  be 
worthy  of  consideration,  German  is  mentioned,  and 
i  English  totally  ignored. 

The  one  French  poet  who  came  nearest  making  his 

compatriots  suspect  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as  an 

]  English    literature,    was    that     famous    Huguenot    Du 

I  Bartas,  who  was  praised  in  London  above  all  foreign 

;  poets,  and  who  had  been  sent  on   missions  to  England 

and  Scotland.     In    his    second  "  Semaine  "  he  drew  a 

picture    of    all    literatures.      Coming     to    the    English 

I  nation  and  surveying   "  the  spacious  times  "   in  which 

I  he  was  living,  he  could  only  name  three  writers,  "  the 

:  pillars,"  he  said,  "  of  the  English  speech."     He  knew 

i  more  concerning    the  Arabs  than   concerning   his  own 

1  admirers  beyond  the  Channel.     To  the  familiar  names 

I  of  More  and  Bacon,  he  adds  only  that  of  the  "  sweet 

singing  swan,"  Sidney,  whom  he  knew  personally  and 

corresponded  with  :— 

"  Le  parler  des  Anglois  a  pour  termes  piliers 
Thomas  More  et  Baccon  tous  deux  grands  chanceliers  .  .  . 
Et  le  milor  Cydne  qui,  cygne  doux-chantant, 
Va  les  Hots  orgueilleux  de  Tamise  flatant."1 


1  Second  day  of  the  second  week.  The  comment  added  by 
Simon  Goulard  to  Du  Bartas's  text  is  not  less  characteristic. 
Goulard    has  a   great   deal  to  say   about   the  Arabs,  but  about  the 


28  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

For  one  poet  alone  he  did  more  than  merely  mention 
his  name.  And  who  was  the  "  eagle  "  and  "  phoenix," 
the  sure  guide  to  the  heaven  of  poetry,  before  whom 
he  chose  to  bow  his  genius  in  an  admirable  line — 

"Ombre  je  vole  en  terre  et  toi  dedans  la  nue"  ? 

None  but  the  conscientious  pedant,  James  VI.,  whose 
poem  on  the  Battle  of  Lepanto  he  "  turned  from  Latin 
into  French."  ' 

It  must  be  observed,  moreover,  that  national 
animosity,  spite,  and  disdain  would  not  help  to  ex- 
plain this  peculiar  state  of  things,  in  the  sixteenth 
century  especially  ;  for  the  English  had  ceased  then  to 
be  the  enemy  in  France.  There  were,  doubtless,  some 
battles  and  difficulties  ;  but  their  import  was  com- 
paratively small,  and  the  results  were  balanced  on  both 
sides.  Henry  VIII.  took  Boulogne,  but  his  son  sold  it 
back  to  France,  1550;  Calais  was  retaken  by  Guise, 
1558  ;  and  Warwick  had  to  surrender  at  Havre,  1563. 
The  great  enemy  was  the  Spaniard,  who  had  had  the 
best  of  it  at  Pavia  and  the  worst  at  Cerisoles,  who 
threatened  France  on  all  her  frontiers — Pyrenees,  Pro- 
English  simply  nothing.  Here  is  the  only  information  he  can  give 
about  Sidney  :  "  Ouant  ail  Milord  Sidne,  il  a  acquis  aussi  par  tout 
ce  mesme  los  que  luy  donnc  le  poetc."  Du  Bartas,  "CEuvres," 
Paris,  161  I,  fob,  vol.  ii.,  p.  216. 

1  The  modern  biographers  of  Du  Bartas  (M.  Pellissier,  M. 
Bcnetrix)  affirm  that  he  knew  English,  but  there  is  no  proof  of  it.  ; 
Colletet  says  vaguely  that  he  acquired  "  l'intclligcncc  des  langues 
mortes  et  vivantes."  M.  Pellissier  infers  that  he  must  have  known 
English  since  he  was  sent  on  a  mission  to  England  ;  but  this  is  no 
proof  whatever,  as  it  was  not  at  all  the  custom,  far  from  it,  with 
envoys  to  know  the  language. 


EARLY  DAYS  29 

vence,  Picardy  ;  who  was  to  be  found  before  Aix 
Marseille,  Metz,  Saint  Ouentin,  Paris,  and  could 
gather  in  the  middle  of  Burgundy,  even  at  the  close 
of  the  century,  to  be  crushed  at  last  by  Henri  IV. 
at  Fontaine-Francaise. l  Literary  knowledge  or  igno- 
rance had  so  little  to  do  with  national  animosities  that 
Spanish  was  as  familiarly  known  then  in  Paris  as 
English  was  generally  ignored.  Spanish  grammars  and 
vocabularies  swarmed  on  French  soil  ;  translating  from 
the  Spanish  had  become  a  regular  trade.  Italian  spread 
: no  less.  "  Coustumierement,"  says  Brantome,  "la  plupart 
des  Francois  d'aujourd'huy,  au  moins  ceux  qui  ont  un 
peu  veu,s^avent  parler  on  entendent  ce  langage,"  meaning 
•  either  Italian  or  Spanish,  and  his  testimony  is  con- 
firmed in  1617  by  no  less  a  personage  than  Cervantes 
himself.2 

There  can  be  only  one  explanation  for  such  a  singular 

1  Ronsard  classifies  thus  the  hatreds  and  rivalries  of  that  time  : — 

"L'horrible  Mars 
Le  sang  chrestien  espand  de  toutes  parts, 
Or'  mutinant  contre  soy  l'Allemagne, 
Or'  opposant  a  la  France  l'Espagne, 
Joyeux  de  meurtre,  or'  le  pais  francois 
A  l'ltalie,  et  l'Escosse  a  l'Anglois." 

("  Les  Isles  Fortunees,"    1560.) 

See  also  the  "Sonnets  d'Angleterre  "  of  Grevin,  "Bulletin  du 
Bibliophile,"  September  15,  1898.  In  Sonnet  XVI.  Grevin 
describes  the  "doleful  tragedy"  of  France  ;  all  foreign  nations 
attend  the  performance  ;  the  English  "  talk  of  it,"  while  the  others 
think  of  "  the  booty." 

2  See  the  learned  and  charming  study  by  Mr.  Morel-Fatio, 
"Comment  la  France  a  connu  et  compris  l'Espagne,"  "Etudes 
sur  l'Espagne,"   Paris,    1888,  pp.   29,   37,   39. 


30  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

state  of  things  as  those  constant  relations  with  England 
and  that  absolute  ignorance  of  its  language  and  litera- 
ture. A  tradition,  which  did  not  cease  to  operate  for 
centuries,  had  established  itself  in  the  remote  days  of 
the  Conquest,  in  accordance  to  which  all  people  of  any- 
standing  in  England  spoke  French,  all  thinkers  and 
philosophers  spoke  Latin,  and  the  rest  were  of  no 
account.  For  ignorance  was  strictly  limited  to  works 
in  the  English  tongue  ;  the  thinkers,  philosophers,  and 
historians  of  Great  Britain  were  familiar  to  every  one 
in  Paris,  and  had  there  as  many  admirers  as  in  their 
own  country.  But  they  were  known  only  under  their 
names  in  us — Moms,  Camdenus,  Seldenus  ;  they  ex- 
changed letters  with  their  French  brethren,  and  received 
epistles  from  Budsus,  Stephanus,  and  Thuanus.  A 
Paris  edition  of  More's  "  Utopia  "  appeared  long  before 
there  was  a  London  one,  and  the  work  was  translated 
into  French  before  it  was  turned  into  English.  Bacon 
was  renowned  alike  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel.  But 
all  that  he  or  others  had  written  in  English  was  prac- 
tically non-existent  for  the  French  public.  While 
"  Morus "  became  famous  in  France,  "  Sir  Thomas 
More"  and  his  "  Workes  "  remained  utterly  unknown. 
Du  Bellay  translated  "Adieu  ma  lyre"  from  the  Latin 
of  Buchanan,  but  no  one  suspected  that  he  would  have 
better  served  the  muses  by  putting  into  French — 

"  My  lute  awake,  perform  the  last 
Labour  that  thou  and  I  shall  waste," 

the  exquisite  and  touching  lines  of  the  Ambassador 
Wyatt.  That  nobleman  spoke  French,  all  London 
spoke  it  ;    the  king,  the  court,  noblemen,  ladies,  every 


EARLY  DAYS  31 

1  one  who  was  anybody  at  all  ;  every  traveller  was  struck 

by  the  general  use  of  French  in  English  society  ;  Greek 

Nucius   and   Italian    Jove    concur    in   their    testimony. 

'"All   the   English    almost,"    wrote    Nucius,   "use   the 

French  language."  l     Two  centuries  later,  in   the  days 

of  incipient    Anglomania    in     France,     something     ot 

that  tradition  still  survived.      "  Tiens,"  says  a  marquis 

In   one   of  Boissy's   comedies,    "  what    is    best  in   the 

:  English  is  that  they  speak  French,  even  though  they 

I  murder  it."  2 

That  the  fact  was  connected  with  the  Conquest  had 
1  not  been  forgotten  in  England ;  protests  were  addressed 
i  to  Henry  VIII.  against  the  use  of  French  in  the 
!  law  courts,  "  as  therby  ys  testyfyd  our  subjectyon  to 
!  the  Normannys."3  The  Conquest  was  equally  well 
i  remembered  in  France,  and  its  bearing  on  the  language 
i  of  the  inhabitants  was  about  all  that  the  ablest  French 
critics  could  say  of  their  neighbours'  speech  : — ■ 

"  Les  Normands  derechef",  suivant  hors  de  leur  terre 
Guillaume  leur  grand  due,  mirent  en  Angleterrc 
Leur  coustume  et  leur  laneue ," 

wrote  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye  in  his  "Art  Poetique." 
Fauchet  expressed  the  same  thought,  and  Etienne 
Pasquier,  who  seems  to  have  carried  his  investigations 

1  "Travels,"  1545,  Camden  Society,  1841,  p.  13.  "Aulas 
siquidem  et  foro  Gallicus  sermo  familiaris."  Paul  Jove,  "Descriptio 
Britannia?,"  Venice,  1  548,  4.0. 

2  "Le  Francois  a  Londres,"  performed  July  19,  1727. 

3  Dialogue  between  Cardinal  Pole  and  Lupset,  by  Starkey, 
dedicated  to  Henry  VIII.,  ed.  Cooper,  1871,  p.  122  (Early  English 
Text  Society). 


32  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

a  little  further,  said  :  "  The  English  language  at  this 
day  owes  a  great  quantity  of  words  to  the  domination 
of  the  Normans  in  England."  As  for  the  general 
opinion,  it  was  well  summed  up  by  Perlin  :  "  The  English 
language  proper  was  brought  to  that  island  formerly 
by  savage  invaders,  and  its  barbarity  has  always  pre- 
vented its  being  taken  into  account  :  their  language 
partakes  of  the  German  as  well  as  of  other  languages. 
For  which  reason  the  poets  of  days  gone  by  have  set 
little  store  by  their  generation,  and  have  always  esteemed 
them  as  a  strange  and  barbarous  race,  for  their  fount 
and  origin  may  not  be  traced  from  people  who  were 
born  in  the  land,  but  from  strange  men,  barbarians  and 
fugitives."  1 

III. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that,  at  the  time  of  Shakespeare, 
the  French  Stage  could  be  influenced  by  the  ancients, 
the  Italians,  and  the  Spaniards,  but  not  at  all  by 
the  English.  In  both  countries  the  starting-points 
stood  very  close  together.  Great  differences  were 
doubtless  to  be  expected  as  dramatic  art  developed, 
on    account    of    differences     in     the    genius    of    both 

1  Vauquelin  dc  la  Frcsnayc,  "Art  Poetique,"  1605,  book  i.,  line 
619;  Claude  Fauchct,  "Recueil  de  l'origine  de  la  Langue  ct  Poesie 
Francoise,"  1581,  chap.  iv.  ;  Pasquier,  "Recherches  de  la  France," 
book  vii.,  chap.  i.  ;  Perlin,  ut  supra,  fbl.  8  :  "  Leur  langaige  est 
tant  participant  sur  l'alemant  que  sur  autres.  Parquoy  les  poetes 
du  temps  passe  ont  peu  faict  dc  compte  de  leur  generation,  et  les 
out  tousjours  estime  comme  une  terre  barbare  et  estrange,  car  leur 
principe  et  origine  n'estpoinct  venu  de  gens  qui  soyent  estes  nais  la, 
mais  des  estranges  et  barbares  et  prof'uges." 


EARLY  DAW  33 

nations  ;  but  those  differences  were  increased  by  the 
total  ignorance  in  France  of  what  was  going  on  in 
England. 

Both  arts  followed,  for  some  while,  no  very  dissimilar 
paths.  In  the  two  countries  clever  people,  worshiptul 
critics,  men  of  knowledge,  had  given  their  verdict  in 
favour  of  Renaissance,  antiquity,  and  rules,  against 
Middle  Ages,  Gothic  barbarity,  and  unbridled  freedom. 
In  the  two  countries  certain  people  protested  and 
rebelled  against  Aristotle  and  his  exponents  ;  but  what 
of  that  ?  They  were  men  who  knew  kW  small  Latin  and 
less  Greek." 

The  dramatic  "  Unities  "  were  eloquently  defended  in 
England  as  in  France  ;  no  Scaliger,  no  Jean  de  la  Taille, 
no  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye  came  forward  as  decidedly 
in  their  favour  as  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  In  his  "  Apologie 
'for  poetrie,"  invoking  the  authority  of  Aristotle  and  of 
Reason,  he  proclaims  the  dogma  of  the  unities  :  "The 
stage  should  alwaies  represent  but  one  place,  and  the 
; uttermost  time  presupposed  in  it  should  be  both  by 
Aristotle's  precept  and  common  reason  but  one  day."  l 
Above  all  other  tragedies  written  by  his  compatriots, 
;he  admired  "  Gorboduc,"  in  which  some  of  the  precepts 
of  antiquity  are  followed,  sententious  counsellors  ex- 
change aphorisms,  and  the  catastrophe  is  told  in  a 
narrative  three  pages  long.  But  he  preferred,  even  to 
"Gorboduc,"  the  Latin  tragedies  of  Buchanan,  in 
which  the  little  Montaigne  "  had  played  the  chief  parts 

1  "An  Apologie  for  poetrie,  written  by  the  right  noble,  vertuous 
and  learned  Sir  Phillip  Sydney  Knight, — Odi  profanum  vulgus  et 
iarceo."    London,  1595,  40.    Written  about  I  581,  reprinted  by  Arbor. 

4 


34  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

at  the  College  of  Guyenne."  To  him  they  appeared  as 
works  divine. 

The  great  thinker  of  the  period,  Bacon,  assists  in  the 
construction  of  an  English  play  according  to  the  classical 
standard  at  a  time  when  Marlowe  had  already  produced 
his  "  Faust."  *  Seneca  is  translated  into  English  line 
for  line.2  The  regent  of  Parnassus,  Ben  Jonson,  with- 
draws from  sight  the  death  of  Sejanus,  and  sends  forth 
a  messenger  to  relate  the  event,  when  Shakespeare  had 
already  written  half  his  masterpieces.  According  to 
Jonson  art  should  reign  supreme  ;  those  who  are  found 
wanting  in  that  respect  must  not  receive  more  than 
their  due  :  "  Shakespeere  wanted  arte."  3  Old  Ben 
had  the  classic  models  ever  before  his  eyes  ;  if  he  could 
not  follow  them,  the  fault  lay  with  the  public,  not  with 
him  :  he  excuses  himself  for  the  irregularities  in  his 
tragedies,  and  declares  openly  that  his  dramatic  ideal  is 
that  of  the  ancients. 

The  tragedies  in  antique  style  of  French  Gamier 
were  translated  into  English  and  published  in  London, 
"  Cornelie  "  in  1594,  "  Marc  Antoine  "  in  1595,  when 
already  "  Romeo  and  Juliet  "  and  "  Midsummer  Night's 

1  "Ccrtaine  Devises  and  Shevves  presented  to  her  Majestye," 
London,  1589,  8°,  by  Thomas  Ughes  and  others.  The  Misfor- 
tunes of  King  Arthur  are  the  subject  of  the  play,  in  which  we  find 
a  chorus,  messengers,  sentences  imitated  from  Seneca,  &c.  On  that 
subject,  see  my  "Theatre  en  Angleterre,"  chap,  vi.,  "Theoriciens 
et  Classiques." 

3  By  Jasper  Heyvvood  :  "  Seneca?.  .  .  .  Hercules  Furens," 
London,  1561,  Latin  and  English;  "Seneca  his  tenne  Trage- 
lies,"   1 581,  40. 

3  "Conversations  with  Drummond";  "Works,"  ed.  Cunning- 
ham, vol.  iii.,  p.  471 . 


EARLY  DAYS  35 

Dream"    had    been    performed.1       "Marc    Antoine " 
;  was  translated  by  Sidney's  sister,  the  Countess  of  Pem- 
broke ;    "  Cornelia "   had    two  editions   in    two   years. 
Queen  Elizabeth  herself,  who  knew,  however,  how  to 
be  merry  with  Falstaff,  gave  encouragement  on  num- 
berless   occasions    to    classically-inclined  dramatists  by 
her  presence    at    their    plays.     She   saw   "  Gorboduc " 
in    1 56 1,  a   Latin    "Dido"    in    1564,   "  Tancred    and 
Gismund,"  with    passages    unexpectedly    drawn    from 
i  Virgil,  in   1568,2  the  "Misfortunes   of  Arthur" — for 
!  which  Bacon  had  ordered  the  dumb-shows — and  a  host 
!  of  others.     She  was  a  lettered  queen  if  ever  there  was 
one,  a  great  admirer  of  the   ancients,  and  had   trans- 
lated herself,  among  other  things,  fragments  of  Horace's 
!  "  Poetical  Art,"  3  and  a  tragedy  of  Euripides. 

While  Englishmen  of  renown  imitated  those  models 
and  spread  such  ideas,  without  knowing  for  certain  which 
style  would  triumph  among  them  in  the  end,  French 
i  writers,  being  still  so  near  mediaeval  picturesqueness 
and  unruliness,  were  very  far  from  adhering  strictly  to 
classical  dogmas. 

We  are  still  in  the  sixteenth  century,  an  age  of 
wars,  duels,  rebellion,  and  debauch,  the  age  of  Marig- 

1  "Cornelia,"  translated  by  Thomas  Kyd,  1594  ;  another  edition 
under  the  title  of  "  Pompey  the  Great,"  1  595  ;  "  The  Tragedie  of 
Antonie,"  printed  with  care  and  elegance  upon  fine  paper,  translated 
by  the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  1595,  160  (the  translation  made  in 
1590). 

2  See,  upon  that  subject,  F.  G.  Fleay,  "A  Chronicle  History 
of  the  London  Stage,"  1559-1642.  London,  1890,  8°,  pp.  12  fF., 
and  "Theatre  en  Angleterre,"  p.  242. 

3  "Queen  Elizabeth's  Englishings  of  Boethius,"  &c,  ed.  Pember- 
ton,  E.E.T.S.,  1899  (issued  in  1898). 


36  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

nano  and  of  the  League,  of  Catholic  and  Protestant 
butcheries,  the  age  of  Montluc,  Brantome,  and  Mau- 
giron  ;  the  time  when  France  delighted  to  follow  the 
rambling  thoughts  of  Montaigne,  the  "  enormous " 
inventions  of  Rabelais,  and  the  audacious  soarings 
of  Ronsard.  This  prince  of  poets  found  room  in  his 
verses  for  all  sorts  of  words,  many  of  which  would 
not  be  allowed  now  even  in  prose  ;  he  was  afraid  of 
nothing,  admitted  in  his  poems  low  and  subtle  expres- 
sions alike,  and  coined  new  words,  reproaching  the 
Huguenots  with  following  an  empistolled  Christ — "  un 
Christ  empistole."  l  Nearly  all  the  poets  of  the  time 
of  the  Valois  and  early  Bourbons,  cadets  of  Vendomois, 
Gascony,  or  elsewhere,  turbulent  fellows,  live  sword  in 
hand,  fight  duels,  go  to  war  and  die  violent  deaths,  like 
Monchrestien  at  Les  Tourailles  ;  or  of  the  effects  of 
their  wounds,  in  their  castles  of  Bartas  or  Saumazenes. 

Moreover,  mediaeval  "  gothicity  "  still  continued  to 
hold  the  French  stage  during  all  the  sixteenth  century 
and  even  part  of  the  seventeenth,  at  the  Hotel  de  Bour- 
gogne,  the  only  theatre  Paris  then  possessed.  Mediaeval 
art  was  patented,  had  privileges  ;  the  "  Confreres  de 
la  Passion,"  lessees  of  that  famous  playhouse,  had  a 
monopoly  which  they  exerted  jealously  ;  the  early  classical 
dramatists  in  France,  Jodelle,  Gamier,  Grevin,  did  not 
know  where  to  have  their  plavs  performed,  and  were  re- 
duced to  composing  most  of  them  as  much  with  a  view 

1   "  Ne  preche  plus  en  France  une  Evangile  arraee, 
Un  Christ  empistole,  tout  noirci  de  fumee, 
Portant  un  morion  en  tcte.   ..." 
(Apostrophe  to  Beza,  "Continuation  du  Discours  de  Miseres  des; 
ce  Temps.") 


EARLY  DAYS  39 

to  their  being  read  as  to  their  being  acted.  The  Middle 
Ages,  incoherent,  irregular,  rash,  with  their  executions, 
their  bloody  martyrdoms,  their  farcical  plays  in  the 
fabliau  style,  their  armies  on  the  march,  their  changes 
of  time  and  place,  thus  live  on,  protected  by  decrees 
and  letters  patent,  threatened  sometimes  with  being  dis- 
lodged, but  impregnable  as  yet  in  their  stronghold  of 
the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne.  Theatres  multiplied  in 
London  in  the  days  of  Shakespeare  :  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  and  even  long  after,  Paris  still  had  but  one,  that 

;  of   the   Confreres  ;  '     and   if  no   genius   made  himself 
known  there,  it  certainly  cannot  be  alleged  that  the  fault 

j  lay  with  Aristotle's  rules. 

On  the  other  hand,  French  dramatists  were  treating, 
at  the  same  period,  the  same  subjects  as  English  poets, 
sometimes  the  same  as  Shakespeare.  France  had  thus 
her  "Romeo   and   Juliet"   (by   Chateauvieux,  1580),2 

\  her  "Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  her  "Julius  Caesar,"  her 

;  "Comedy  of  Errors,"  her  "Winter's  Tale"  ("Pandoste" 

1  "  C'est  seulement  a  la  fin  de  1629  que  les  Comediens  du  prince 
I  d'Orange  ont  etabli   a  Paris  un  second  theatre."     Rigal,  "  Esquisse 

d'une  histoire  des  theatres  de  Paris,"  1887,  p.  85.  The  Passion 
;  Brothers,  however,  as  early  as  the  sixteenth  century,  were  wont  to 
I  let  their  hall  to  others  when  it  was  in  their  interest  to  do  so.      We 

shall  see  an  example  of  it  further  on,  p.  51. 

2  Come  de  la  Gambe,  called  Chateauvieux,  groom  of  the 
chamber  to  Henri  III.  This  drama,  plaved  in  1  580,  was  taken,  like 
Shakespeare's  play,  from  Bandello's  novel.  Clement  and  De  la 
Porte,  "Anecdotes  dramatiques,"  Paris,  1775,  3  vols.,  8°,  vol.  iii., 
p.  107.  In  both  countries  subjects  are  borrowed  from  Ariosto 
and  Boccaccio;  Robert  Gamier  gives  a  "  Bradamante,"  15S0; 
Robert  Greene,  an  "Orlando  Furioso,"  1594  (played  in  1591). 
Rotrou's"Les  Menechmes  "  (drawn  from  Plautus  as  "The  Comedy 
of  Errors"  had  been),  were  performed  in  1632  and  printed  in  1636. 


40  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

in  French).  French  Antony,  like  English  Antony, 
shook  the  blood-stained  gown  of  Caesar  before  the 
assembled    Romans  : — 

"  You  all  do  know  this  mantle   .   .   .  " 

"  Voyez,  voyez  quel  tort 
On  vous  a  fait  ;  voyez  cette  robe  sanglante  ; 
C'est  celle  de  Cesar  !  " 

And  Ronsard  was  inexhaustible  in  his  praise  of  the 
youthful  glory  of  Jacques  Grevin.1  "The  Winter's 
Tale  "  appeared  twice  on  the  French  stage — such 
"  Winter's  Tales  "  as  a  Hardv  or  a  Puget  de  la  Serre 
could  write.  They  offered  the  peculiarity  of  being 
drawn  from  a  novel  of  Greene's,  the  same  which 
Shakespeare  used,  and  one  of  the  very  first  literary 
works  translated  from  English  into  French.  That 
story  enjoyed    an   extraordinary  popularity   in   France, 

1  "La  Mort  de  Cesar,"  by  Grevin,  1560.  Several  passages 
might  be  compared  with  Shakespeare's  :  for  instance,  the  soliloquy 
of  Brutus  in  Grevin  : — 

"  Rome  ne  peult  servir,  Brute  vivant  en  elle, 
Et  cachant  dedans  soy  ceste  antique  querelle. 
Ce  n'est  assez  que  Brute  aist  arrache  des  mains 
D'un  Tarquin  orgueilleux  l'empire  des  Romains.  ..." 

■ — (Act  ii.) 

In  Shakespeare  : — 

"  Shall  Rome  stand  under  one  man's  awe  ?     What  ?      Rome  ? 
My  ancestors  did  from  the  streets  of  Rome 
The  Tarquin  drive  when  he  was  called  a  king.  ..." 

— (Act  ii.,  1.) 


THE    MEETING   OF   DORASTE   AND    FAl'XIA    (FLORIZEI.   AND   PERDITA). 

From  a  French  engraving,  1722.  "/.  41. 


EARLY  DAYS  43 

it  was  several  times  remodelled,  and,  as  late  as  1722, 
a  new  version  of  it  was  published  with  curious  cuts, 
showing  a  Florizel  and  a  Perdita  dressed  in  eighteenth 
century  dresses  and  taking  part  in  the  shepherds'  feast.1 
Of  the  two  plays,  the  earliest,  by  Hardy,  is  lost.  The 
second,  by  Puget  de  la  Serre,  "  Pandoste  ou  la  Princesse 
malheureuse,"  was  printed  in  1631,  and  is  divided  into 
two  days,  each  of  five  very  short  acts.  It  is  written  in 
the  prodigiously  florid  and  precieux  style  which  was 
then  fashionable  with  many.  The  play  is  dedicated  to 
the  Lady  "  Urania  "  :  "  Your  black  locks  always  in 
mourning  for  the  death  of  your  slaves  are  as  many 
chains  which  keep  my  pen  prisoner."  -  Pandoste  opens 
the  play  with  a  ranting  speech  worthy  of  King  Herod  : 
"  Am  I  not  a  lucky  man  not  to  know  what  to  wish 
for  ?  .  .  .  The  sweetest  pleasures  which  can  be  tasted 
in  this  nether  world  are  the  everyday  dishes  for  my 
table.  .  .  .  O  Fortune,  when  wilt  thou  change  thy 
face  ?  thine  continuous  smiles  incline  me  to  go  a-weep- 
ing  ..."     When  he  thinks  he  has  discovered  that  he 

1  "  Histoire  tragique  de  Pandosto,"  translated  bv  L.  Regnault, 
Paris,  161 5  (see  "English  Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare," 
p.  184).  "Le  Roman  d'Albanie  et  de  Sycile  par  le  Sr  Du  Bail 
Gentilhomme  Poictevin,"  Paris,  1626,  1  z°,  with  cuts;  no  mention 

l  is  made   either  of  Greene  or  of  Regnault  ;  several   changes    have 

!  been   introduced   in    the   story.      It  was   analysed   in    1779  in   the 

" Bibliotheque  universelle  des  Romans,"    Paris,  vol.  i.      "Histoire 

tragique  de   Pandolphe,"   Paris,    1722,    i2mo,  with    plates,  one   of 

which  is  here  reproduced. 

2  The  author  continues  thus  :    "  Pour   vostre  sein    que  je  suis 
j  contrainct  de  comparer  a  deux  petites  montaignes  de  neige  parce 

qu'elles  couvrent  un  coeur  de  glace,  je  n'en  ay  jamais  veu  que  la 
1  moitie  au  travers  des  grilles  d'une  prison  de  toile  transparente  oil  i! 
souspiroit  a  intervale  de  sa  captivite." 


44  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

is  not  quite  so  happy  as  he  believed,  his  reproaches  to 
the  "  Royne  Belaire  son  espouse"  are  couched  in  the 
same  style  :  "  Dost  thou  continue  dragging  on  the  earth 
the  dunghill  of  thy  body  to  give  the  plague  to  its 
inhabitants?  .  .  .  Speak,  1  charge  thee,  infamous  one, 
but  speak  from  afar,  lest  the  wind  from  thy  mouth 
poisons  me."  Belaire,  in  her  turn,  descants  to  her  little 
daughter  on  their  sad  fate  :  "  Thou  criest  in  vain,  as 
my  helplessness  makes  me  deaf.  It  seems  as  if  thy  tears 
would  drown  thee  in  their  waters,  to  make  good  the 
curse  to  which  thy  fate  has  condemned  thee.  Let  us 
mix  our  tears  together  and  undergo  the  same  ship- 
wreck." The  child  is  put  to  sea,  and  discovered  on  the 
opposite  shore  by  a  well-taught  young  shepherd,  who, 
finding  it  so  pretty,  wonders  if  "  it  is  not  some  new 
Cupid  to  which  Venus  has  given  birth  in  the  sea,  where 
she  was  born." 

In  the  second  day  Doraste  and  Favvye  (Florizel  and 
Perdita)  plight  their  troth  and  exchange  sweet  speeches : 

"  Doraste.  What  character  do  you  want  me  to  sustain  in  order 
to  show  you  the  sincerity  of  my  love  ? 

Favvye.    The  character  of  a  shepherd. 

Doraste.  I  am  one  already,  for  from  the  first  day  that  1  saw 
you,  my  desires  and  my  thoughts  have  watched  the  sheep  with 
you.    .   .   ." 

Like  the  English,  the  French  during  the  same  period! 
put  their  national  history  into  dramas,  or  rather  on  that ! 
point  England  followed  the  example  of  the  Continent! 
Before  1450  a  mystery  play  had  been  devoted  in  France  | 
to  the  Maid  of  Orleans  (burnt  in  1 431),  and  in  it  "  the] 
English  army  left  its  island  .  .  .  landed  in  France  .  .  . 
real   battles  took   place  ;   whole   quarters  of  the  town! 


EARLY  DAYS  45 

were  destroyed  by  fire."  !  The  English  relate  in  their 
plays  the  "  Contention  betwixt  the  two  famous  Houses 
of  Yorke  and  Lancaster  "  (Shakespeare  took  from  this 
old  drama  his  "  Henry  VI.")  ;  the  French  relate  in 
theirs  "  in  brief  narrations  all  the  troubles  of  France 
from  the  death  of  Henri  II.  up  to  1566"  ;2  a  play 
is  written  by  Francois  de  Chantelouve,  on  the  Saint 
Barthelemi  three  years  after  the  massacre  has  taken 
place.3  On  the  London  stage  Queen  Elizabeth  appears 
in  a  play  of  Shakespeare's  ;  James  IV.  in  a  play  of 
Greene's;  Marlowe  takes  for  his  subject,  in  1590,  the 
reign  and  death  of  Henri  III.  of  France,  assassinated 
only  the  previous  year  ;  Chapman,  the  revolt  of  Biron 
the  against  Henri  IV.  yet  on  the  throne.  In  France 
Guises  appear  in  plays  by  Pierre  Matthieu  and  by 
Simon  Belyard ;  4  Mary  Stuart  in  one  by  Monchrestien  ; 
Merovee,  Gaston  de  Foix,  Henri  IV.  in  the  tragedies 
of    Claude     Billard.5       In    Paris    the    greatest    poets, 

1  "LeMistere  du  Siege  d'Orleans,"  Paris,  1862,4°.  Petit  de 
Julleville,  "  Les  Mysteres,"  1880,  vol.  ii.  p.  579. 

2  "  The  first  part  of  the  Contention  betwixt  the  two  famous 
< Houses  of  Yorke  and  Lancaster,  with  the  death  of  the  good  Duke 
.Humphrey,"  &c,  London,  1594,  reprinted  by  Hazlitt,  "  Shake- 
jspeare's  Library,"  1875,  vol.  i.  "Montgomery,  tragedie  oil  sont 
.contenus  par  breves  narrations,  tons  les  troubles  de  la  France  depuis 
j la  mort  de  Henri  II.  jusqu'en  1  566,"  by  Gerland,  1  573  ;  de  Mouhy, 

Tablettes  dramatiques,"  Paris,  1772. 

3  "La  tragedie  de  feu  Gaspar  de  Colligni,  jadis  Admiral  de 
France,  contenant  ce  qui  advint  a  Paris  le  24  Aoust,  1572,"  1575, 
with  choruses,  messenger,  the  King's  Council,  which  acts  the  part 

j  of  the  confidant  ;  in  verse.    It  is  an  apology  of  the  Saint  Barthelemi. 

4  "La  Guysien  ou  perfidie  tyrannique  commise  par  Henry  de 
i  Valois,"  Troves,    1592,   8°. 

5  "Tragedies  de  Claude  Billard,  Sieur  de  Courgenay  "  (dedicated 
;  to  Marie  de  Medicis),  Paris,  161  2. 


46  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

the  most  esteemed  critics  were  no  more  afraid  then 
of  national  and  contemporaneous  subjects,  than  they 
were  in  London,  where  a  play  was  published  on  "  the 
Tragicall  raigne  of  Selimus  sometime  Emperor  of 
the  Turkes,"  with  the  additional  information  to  whet 
the  reader's  interest,  that  the  emperor  in  question  was 
"  grandfather  to  him  that  now  raigneth."  l  "  La 
Soltane,"  a  French  tragedy  by  Gabriel  Bounin,  printed 
in  1 56 1,  is  localised  in  the  palace  of  Sultan  Soliman, 
who  was  yet  alive.2  The  scruples  of  Racine  and 
Boileau  existed  only  in  the  dim  future.  Ronsard, 
while  giving  their  full  due  to  Rome  and  Athens, 
foresaw  that  Grevin  might  dramatise  the  dissensions 
with  which  France  was  being  rent  : — 

"  D'Athenes,  Troye,  Argos,  dc  Thebes  et  Mycenes 
Sont  pris  les  arguments  qui  convienment  aux  scenes  ; 
Rome  t'en  a  donne,  que  nous  voyons  ici, 
Et  crains  que  les  Francois  ne  t'en  donnent  aussi."  3 

Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye,  a  passionate  admirer  of 
Horace,  whose  "  Epistle  to  the  Pisoes "  he  incor- 
porated into  his  own  "  Art  Poetique,"  was  nevertheless 

1  London,  1  594,  4.0. 

2  "  La  Soltane,  tragedie  par  Gabriel  Bounin,  lieu-tenant  dc 
Chasteau-rous  en  Berry,"  1561,  40  (portrait  of  the  author  on  the 
back  of  the  title).  This  tragedy  treats  of  the  death  of  Mustapha, 
a  favourite  subject  with  dramatists  in  England  as  in  France  during 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  (treated  in  England,  e.g., 
by  Fulkc  Grevillc  Lord  Brooke,  and  by  Roger  Boyle,  Earl  of  Orrery  ; 
sec  below,  p.  164). 

3  "  Discours  a  Jacques  Grevin,"  1560  (on  the  occasion  of  his 
"  Mort  dc  Cesar"). 


EARLY  DAYS  47 

desirous  of  seeing  Andromeda  and  Perseus  abandoned 
in  favour  of  Christian  heroes.  It  seems  as  though  he 
were  calling  forth  Voltaire's  Tancrede  and  Zaire  l  two 
hundred  years  before  their  time  :  — 

"  Portez  done  en  trophe  les  depouilles  payennes 
Au  sommet  des  clochers  de  vos  cites  chretiennes.   .   .   ."2 

All  the  national  and  modern  dramas,  and  even  the 
dramas  in  antique  style  written  in  France  at  that  period, 
offer  a  strange  combination  of  classic  and  romantic 
tendencies.  "  The  Guisiade,  a  new  Tragedy,  in  which 
is  represented  truly  and  without  passion,  the  massacre 
of  the  due  de  Guise,"  3  is  a  French  tragedy  with 
chorus,  in  which  the  catastrophes  are  merely  narrated 
and  the  murder  is  described  by  a  messenger  : — 

"  O  France  violee,  O  meurtrier  execrable  ! 
O  barbare,  O  tyran,  O  homme  abominable  !  " 


1  "  Yous  aurez  sur  le  theatre  des  drapeaux  portes  en  triomphe, 
des  armes  suspendues  a  des  colonnes  .  .  .  un  Te  Deum."  Voltaire 
to  d'Argental,  on  the  subject  of  "  Tancrede,"  May  19,  1759. 

2  He  would  have  liked  to  see  "on  feast  days  in  villages,"  or  "on 
some  beautiful  Christmas  night  "  : — 

"  Au  lieu  d'une  Andromede  au  rocher  attachee, 
Et  d'un  Persee  qui  l'a  de  ses  fers  relachee, 
Un  Saint  George  venir  bien  arme,  bien  monte, 
La  lance  a  son  arrest,  l'espee  a  son  coste, 
Assaillir  le  dragon." 

"Art   Poetique,"  ed.   Pellissier,    1885,  p.  173  ;    1st  ed.,  1605  ;  the 
work  begun,  1 574. 

3  "  La  Guisiade,  tragedie  nouvelle  en  laquelle  au  vray  et  sans 
passion  est  represente  le  massacre  du  due  de  Guise,"  bv  Pierre 
Matthieu,  3rd  edition,  enlarged,  Lyons,  1589,  8°. 


48  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Thus  begins,  and  in  this  style  continues,  a  long-winded 
messenger,  giving  us  a  pale  foreshadowing  of  the 
famous  narrative  of  Theramene  in  Racine's  "  Phedre." 
A  messenger  also  relates  the  massacre  of  the  Protestants, 
all  "despatched  to  the  Stygian  waters"  in  Chantelouve's 
tragedy  of  "  Colligni."  A  messenger  again  relates  the 
death  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  (whose  lamentations 
had  filled  a  whole  act)  in  "  1'Ecossaise  ou  le  Desastre  " 
of  Montchrestien.1 

But  in  spite  of  their  choruses  (which  we  find  also  in 
"  Henri  le  Grand,"  "  Gaston  de  Foix,"  &c),  their 
messengers,  and  their  attention  to  rules,  all  these 
French  authors  are  very  far  from  the  absolute  regu- 
larity and  decorum  exacted  at  a  later  date.  They  pro- 
duce most  unexpected  personages  on  the  stage.  Long 
before  the  ghost  of  old  Hamlet  had  been  placed  by 
Shakespeare  on  the  boards,  Jodelle  had  shown  his 
audience  the  ghost  of  Antony — a  French  ghost,  how- 
ever, who  was  careful  to  declare  in  the  opening  lines  of 

1  "  Les  Tragedies  de  A.  de  Montchrestien,"  Rouen  [1601],  8°. 
The  subject  was  often  taken  up  again  in  France  :  by  Regnault, 
1639;  by  Boursault,  1683  ;  by  an  anonymous  author,  1734,  &c. 
"  L'Ecossaise  "  had  not,  as  lias  been  affirmed,  been  written  only 
to  be  read  ;  it  was  performed  at  Orleans  in  1603  (see  an  article  by 
M.  Auvray,  Revue  d'Histoire  litteraire  de  la  France,  January  15, 
1897).  The  "  Ecossaise  "  is  ornamented  with  a  portrait  of  the 
author;  the  verses  which  accompany  the  engraving  resemble  those 
that  Jonson  wrote  a  little  later  for  the  portrait  of  Shakespeare  in 
the  first  folio  : — 

"  Son  corps  et  son  esprit  sont  peints  en  cct  ouvrage, 
L'un  dedans  ce  tableau,  l'autre  en  cc  qu'il  escrit  : 
Si  Ton  trouvc  bien  fait  le  portrait  du  visage, 
Je  trouvc  encor  mieux  fait  le  portrait  de  l'esprit." 


EARLY  DAYS  49 

the  play  that  Cleopatra  would  duly  die  within  the  pre- 
scribed number  of  hours  : — 

"  Avant  que  ce  soleil  qui  vient  ores  de  naistre, 
Ayant  trace  son  jour,  chez  sa  tante  se  plonge, 
Cleopatre  mourra."  ' 

In  the  "  Tragedie  de  feu  Gaspar  de  Colligni,"  the  ghost 
of  D'Andelot  comes  forth,  a  classical  ghost  which 
had  been  suffering  in  Hades  (in  company  with  Calvin) 
all  the  most  famous  torments  in  antique  mythology.2 
In  the  same  play  Mercury  and  the  Furies  appear.  In 
"  Henri  le  Grand "  we  meet  Satan  ;  in  "  Merovee," 
Tysiphone,  a  fury.  Decorum  and  the  "  convenances  " 
are  but  ill  observed  ;  Jodelle's  Cleopatra  seizes  Seleucus 
by  the  hair  of  his  head,  and  says  : — 

"  Plucked  out  shall  be  the  hair  of  thy  cruel  head.  .   .  .   Have  at 
thee,  traitor,  have  at  thee  ! 

Seleucus.  Hold  her  back,  mighty  Caesar,  hold  her  back,  I  say  !  " 


1  "Les  CEuvres  et  Meslanges  poetiques  d'Estienne  Jodelle  Sieur 
de  Lymodin,"  Paris,  1574,  40.  In  making  ghosts  appear  upon  the 
stage,  Jodelle  was  simply  following  the  example  of  Seneca  : — 

"  Thiestis  Umbra.     Opaca  linquens,  Ditis  inferni  loca, 

Adsum  profundo  Tartari  emissus  specu." 

("  Agamemnon.") 
3  Ghost  of  D' '  Andeiot : — 

"  La  terre  se  crevant,  je  sors  hors  du  Tenare, 
Et  du  palais  ombreux  de  l'horrible  Tartare 
Oii  rotissant  d'un  feu  qui  ne  cognoit  la  mort, 
Je  languis  deschire  d'un  tenaillant  effort  .   .   . 
Ores  je  rcule  un  roc  du  haut  d'une  montagne   .   .   . 
.  .  .   Non  moins  que  moi  le  cardinal  mon  frere 
Et  l'apostat  Calvin  ne  font  qu'heurler  et  braire." 

5 


50  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

But  Octavius  has  not  the  slightest  desire  to  intervene 
in  so  dangerous  a  quarrel,  and  contents  himself  with 
giving  good  advice  :   "  Fly,  friend,  fly  !  " 

Those  poetical  outbursts  which  occur  in  the  ancient 
English  dramatists,  sometimes  at  the  most  unexpected 
moments— comparisons,  highly  coloured  descriptions, 
flowers  of  speech — occur  also  in  many  old  French 
tragedies.  The  messenger  who  relates  the  Saint  Bar- 
thelemi  in  Chantelouve's  tragedy  puts  in  his  discourse 
as  much  irrelevant  poetry  as  he  can,  and  first  describes 
fair-haired  Aurora  driving  away  the  black  horses  of 
Night.1  Better  poetry  but  no  greater  appropriateness 
is  found  in  such  lines  as  these  : — 

"  Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk 
Which,  in  their  summer  beauty,  kiss'd  each  other." 

In  this  manner  the  two  rascals  hired  for  murdering  the 
sons  of  Edward  express  themselves  in  "  Richard  III.," 
after  their  "piece  of  ruthless  butchery." 

The  starting  points  (not  to  speak  of  the  common 
origins — mysteries,  moralities,  farces,  all  imported  into 
England  from  France)  stood,  as  we  see,  very  close 
in  the  two  countries  at  the  time  of  the  Renais- 
sance ;  the  "  convenances  "  did  not  yet  reign  supreme 
in  France,  rules  were  not  without  defenders  in  England. 
Add  to  this  the  remarkable  fact  that  English  players  came 

1  "...  Lorsque  la  blonde  Aurore 

Chassoit  les  noirs  chevaux  de  la  deesse  more 
Et  que,  laissant  le  lict  son  mari  vieillard, 
Ses  couleurs  pour  le  ciel  semoit  de  toute  part." 

("Tragedie  de  feu  Gaspar  de  Colligni.") 


EARLY  DAYS  51 

to  France  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare  and  performed 
dramas  in  the  city  and  at  court.  English  dramatists 
came  too,  and  among  others  Shakespeare's  best  friend, 
Ben  Jonson,  while  some  French  dramatists,  such  as 
Grevin,  Montchrestien,  and  Schelandre,  went  to  England. 
The  English  actors  who  came  to  Paris  were  not  mere 
strolling  players ;  they  did  things  on  a  rather  large  scale, 
for  there  was  only  one  permanent  theatre  in  Paris,  and 
that  one  they  hired.  The  lease,  dated  Mav  25,  1598, 
by  which  the  "  Confreres  de  la  Passion  "  allow  them 
free  use  of  the  "  Grande  salle  et  theatre  de  1'Hotel  de 
Bourgogne,"  is  still  in  existence  among  the  papers  of  a 
notary  public  in  Paris.  They  had  at  their  head 
"  Jehan  Sehais,  comedien  Anglois."  Remarkably  san- 
guine and  indefatigable  as  it  seems,  they  invaded  the 
town,  so  to  speak.  The  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  was  not 
enough  for  them  ;  they  wanted  to,  and  actually  did 
play  outside  the  hotel,  contrary  to  the  privileges  of  the 
Passion  Brothers.  The  judge  had  to  interfere,  and  the 
Chatelet  passed  a  sentence  "against  the  said  English 
comedians,"  obliging  them  to  pay  an  indemnity  to  the 
brothers.1  The  taste  for  the  drama  had  become  so 
general  in  Shakespeare's  time  that  the  number  of 
players  had  multiplied  beyond  belief.  Troops  of  them 
swarmed  ;  they  roamed  over  the  highways  of  Europe, 
meeting  with  the  adventurers  of  premature  "  Comical 
Romances  "  which  unfortunately  no  Scarron  has  re- 
corded. We  meet  with  them  in  the  Low  Countries, 
in  Denmark,  in  Germany  (where  French  comedians  are 

1  Eudore  Soulie,  "Recherches  sur  Moliere,"  Paris,  1863,  8°,  p. 
153.  A  troupe  of  English  acrobats  had  been  seen  in  Paris  in  1583. 
E.  Fournier,  "Chansons  de  Gaultier  Garguille,"  1858,  p.  lix. 


52  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

also  to  be  found),1  hawking  about  a  repertoire 
which  included  several  pieces  of  Shakespeare's  ("  Ham- 
let," "  Lear,"  "  Romeo  "),  of  Greene's,  of  Marlowe's, 
and  of  other  great  authors.  The  difficulty  of  pleasing 
the  audience  with  dramas  in  a  strange  tongue,  obliged 
them  to  have  recourse  to  all  the  little  talents  they 
might  happen  to  possess  ;  they  played  different  instru- 
ments, amused  the  public  with  their  comical  gesticu- 
lations, and  excited  admiration  by  antics  more  worthy 
of  acrobats  than  of  dancers.  Previous  to  the  arrival 
of  the  troupe  of  1598  we  find  in  Paris  some  English 
"  volteadors  in  a  Spanish  company.  In  Holland  and 
Germany  the  English  comedians  are  often  designated 
by  the  name  of  "  instrumentisten."  The  Duke  of 
Saxony  attached  to  his  person,  in  1586,  a  troupe  in 
which  figures  the  actor  Thomas  Pope,  subsequently 
a  companion  of  Shakespeare's  ;  these  comedians  are 
bound  to  "  play  music,  and  amuse  and  entertain  us 
with  their  art  in  leaping  and  other  graceful  things 
which  they  have  learnt."  The  player  Browne  is  re- 
warded for  "  having  acted  and  played  divers  comedies 
and  histories,  as  well  as  for  having  made  divers  leaps 
in  the  presence  of  the  burgomasters  and  community 
of  this  city"   of  Leyden,   in    1590.2 

1  "En  1595,  Charles  Chautron  jouait  a  Francfort  la  'Sultanc' 
dc  Gabriel  Bounin."  P.  dc  Juleville,  "  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de 
la  Litterature  Franchise,"  iv.,  19^  (this  same  "  Soltane,"  1  56 1 ,  of 
which  we  spoke  above,  p.  46). 

2  Cohn,  "  Shakespeare  in  Germany,"  London,  1865,  40,  pp.  xxiii., 
xxvi.,  xxxi.,  cxi.  The  list  in  which  figure  several  plays  oi  Shake- 
speare, is  a  list  of  plays  performed  at  Dresden  by  English  comedians 
in  1626.  Their  qualitv  of  actor-acrobats  is  shown  sometimes  by 
their  passports,  wherein   it  is   stated   that   they  intend  to  "exercer 


EARLY  DAYS  55 

We  may  well  believe  that  in  Paris  the  English  actors, 
who  would  scarcely  have  been  less  understood  had  they 
spoken  native  Brazilian,  must  have  had  recourse  more 
than  once  to  their  supplementarv  talents  in  order  to 
hold  an  audience.  Even  then  their  success  does  not 
seem  to  have  come  up  to  their  expectations,  for  we 
soon  loose  sight  of  them,  and  no  one  knows  now 
whether  the  spectators  of  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  saw 
"  Romeo "  as  in  London,  or  graceful  leaps  as  in 
Leyden. 

Another  English  troupe  appeared,  however,  in  France 
some  years  later,  and  gave  representations  in  the  Palace 
of  Fontainebleau,  where  King  Henri  IV.  and  his  son, 
the  future  Louis  XIII.,  were  staving.  Heroard, 
physician  in  ordinary  to  the  young  prince,  who  was 
then  scarcely  four  vears  old,  saw  the  plav  with  his 
pupil.  It  consisted  of  one  of  those  wild  and  bloody 
dramas,  destined  to  cause  such  lively  discussions  in 
France,  but  not  till  a  century  and  a  half  later.  Heroard 
writes  in  his  journal:  "  Saturdav  iSth  [September, 
1604]  at  half-past  three,  lunch  ;  then  conducted  the 
dauphin  to  the  great  new  hall  " — the  famous  hall  just 
then  finished,  where  a  stage  was  erected  later,  and  plays 
were  constantly  performed  in  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries — "  to  hear  a  tragedy  performed  by 
English  players.  He  listened  with  coldness,  gravity, 
and  patience,  till  the  head  of  one  of  the  heroes  had  to 
be  cut  ofF."  What  took  place  then  ?  Was  the  child 
indignant  as  by  a  prescience  of  the  arrests  of  Boileau  ; 

leurs  qualitez  en  faict  de  musique,  agilitez  et  joeuz  de  commedies, 
tragedies  et  histoires."  Passport  in  French,  signed  by  Lord  Howard, 
February  10,  1591,  ibid,  p.  xxviii. 


56  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

did  he  lose  his  coldness  or  his  patience  ?  Heroard  is 
mute  on  this  point,  but  he  continues  :  "  Taken  him  to 
the  garden  and  then  to  the  kennel  to  see  the  quarry  of 
the  hart  given  to  the  hounds.  .  .  .  He  sees  the  hounds 
come  to  his  very  feet,  busy  with  the  carnage,  and  he 
views  the  scene  with  the  most  remarkable  assurance." 
The  physician  observes  elsewhere  that  the  child  feels 
interested  only  in  weapons,  "  ail  other  pastimes  being 
as  nothing  to  him."  It  seems  most  probable,  therefore, 
that  when  he  saw  the  head  cut  off  in  the  play  he  was 
not  shocked  ;  and  that  it  was  his  coldness  and  gravity, 
not  his  patience,  which  vanished. 

Young  Louis  kept,  in  any  case,  a  most  lively 
remembrance  of  the  tragedy  and  of  the  words,  acting, 
and  attitudes  of  the  English  players.  He  was  very 
fond  of  mimicking  what  had  struck  him  ;  when 
"  Maitre  Guillaume,"  the  fool  of  Henri  IV.,  had 
been  with  him,  "  with  mirth  and  laughter  he  repeated 
his  jokes."  In  the  same  way,  ten  days  after  the  play, 
"  he  asks,"  says  Heroard  again,  "  to  be  disguised,  and 
with  his  apron  on  his  head  and  a  gauze  scarf,  he 
imitates  the  English  comedians  who  were  at  court 
and  whom  he  had  seen  play."  The  day  after  he 
thinks  again  of  them  :  "  He  says  that  he  wants  to 
play  in  a  play.  '  Monsieur,'  I  said,  '  how  will  you 
say  ? '  He  answers,  '  Tip/i,  Toph,  swelling  his  voice. 
At  half-past  six,  supped.  He  goes  to  his  room,  has 
himself  dressed  in  his  disguise,  and  says,  '  Let  us  go 
and  see  maman  ;  we  are  comedians.' '  On  the  3rd  of 
October  he  is  haunted  still  by  the  lively  remembrance 
of  that  memorable  performance.  " '  Let  us  dress  as 
comedians,'  he  says.      His  apron  was  tied  on  his  head, 


EARLY  DAYS  57 

and  he  began  talking  away,  saying,  '  Tip/i,  Top/i, 
milord,  pacing  the  room  in  long  strides."  l  The  rant, 
the  long  strides,  the  head  cut  off,  all  this  befits  many 
an  English  drama  and  many  an  English  actor  of  the 
period.  Youthtul  Louis  did  not  prove  a  bad  observer, 
and  if,  when  on  the  throne,  arms  and  hunting  had  not 
become  his  only  pastimes,  he  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  given  his  support  to  a  sort  of  drama  different 
from  the  kind  that  was  to  be  favoured  by  a  certain 
young  man,  then  nineteen,  and  very  busv  with 
theological  studies,  the  future  Cardinal  de  Richelieu.2 
It  thus  seems  that  an  intelligence,  or  at  least  a  know- 
ledge of  the  English  drama  should  have  been  possible  in 
France,  since  English  players  had  sojourned  there,  and 
since  Englishmen,  the  most  expert  in  matters  of  poetry 
and  of  the  stage  had  visited  Paris  during  Shakespeare's 
lifetime.  While  Ronsard,  Grevin,  Brantome,  and 
Du  Bartas  were  crossing  the  sea,  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
Sackville,  and    Ben    Jonson    were    crossing    it    too    in 

1  "Journal  de  Jean  Heroard  sur  l'enfance  et  la  Jeunesse  de 
Louis  XIII.,"  1601-28,  ed.  Soulie  and  de  Barthelemy,  Paris,  1868, 
2  vols.,  8vo.,  vol.  i.,  pp.  88  and  following.  In  a  letter  to  the 
"  Intermediate  des  Chercheurs  et  Curieux,"  vol.  ii.,  col.  105, 
M.  H.  C.  Coote  has  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  plav  was 
probably  Shakespeare's  "  Henry  IV.,"  on  account  of  a  passage 
where  FalstafF  says  to  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  "This  is  the  right 
fencing  grace,  my  lord,  tap  for  tap  and  so  part  fair."  (Henry 
IV.,  ii.  1.)  This  is  a  very  doubtful  inference,  as  no  one  is  be- 
headed in  this  play. 

2  One  of  the  masters  he  had  was  an  Englishman,  Richard 
Smith,  "un  des  esprits  le  plus  libres  parmi  les  theologiens  de  ce 
temps."  Hanotaux,  "  Histoire  du  Cardinal  de  Richelieu,"  i.,  p.  77. 
The  "Argenis"  of  John  Barclay  was  later  one  of  the  favourite 
books  of  Richelieu. 


58  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

the  opposite  direction — the  first  in  all  the  ardour 
and  enthusiasm  of  youth  ;  the  second  several  times 
as  ambassador  ;  the  last  in  all  his  glory,  author 
of  "Sejanus,"  of  "The  Alchemist,"  of  "Catiline," 
laureate  of  James  I.,  regent  of  Parnassus  in  his  own 
country. 

Sidney  appeared  at  the  Court  of  Charles  IX.,  in 
1572,  at  the  very  time  when  Ronsard  was  staying 
there,  had  an  apartment  in  the  Louvre,  and  was 
writing  his  peerless  sonnets  for  "  Helen."  Elegant, 
graceful,  and  learned,  a  poet  born,  Sidney  pleased 
everybody,  and,  though  a  foreigner,  was  appointed 
by  the  king  gentleman  of  his  chamber.  Henri  of 
Navarre,  who  was  to  welcome  the  English  comedians 
at  Fontainebleau,  struck  up  a  friendship  with  him.  He 
must  surely  have  known  "  Helen  "  de  Surgeres,  who 
was  then  maid  of  honour  to  Catherine  de  Medicis,  and 
the  beloved  of  Ronsard.  Whether  he  may  not  have 
climbed,  in  company  with  the  elder  poet,  the  intermin- 
able stairs  which  led  to  the  rooms  of  the  "  docte  de  la 
cour,"  l  is  left  for-speculation  : — 

"  Tu  logcs  au  sommet  du  palais  dc  nos  rois, 
Olvmpe  n'avait  pas  la  cimc  si  hautaine." 

His  sojourn  left  few  traces  ;  but  his  name,  as  we  shall 
see,  was  not  forgotten  in  France. 

Jonson's  sojourn  had  even  lesser  results,  although  no 
one  would  have  been  better  entitled  to  a  hearing. 
Illustrious  as  he   was  among  his  compatriots,   a   great 

1  Nolhac,  "  Lc  dernier  amour  de  Ronsard,"  1882  (a  reprint  from 
the  Nouvelle  Revue). 


EARLY  DAYS  59 

admirer  of  the  ancients,  a  translator  of  the  Poetical  Art 
of  Horace,  whose  severe  precepts  were  thus  put  into 
English  for  the  second  or  third  time,1  a  personal  friend 
of  Shakespeare,  whom  he  used  to  meet  constantly  at 
the  tavern  only  a  little  before,  and  who  had  lent  him 
his  assistance  as  actor  and  perhaps  as  poet  on  the 
occasion  of  his  "  Sejanus,"  Jonson  might  have  given 
some  idea  of  what  the  English  drama  was  like.  But 
old  Ben  loved  a  tavern  even  when  there  was  no 
Shakespeare  in  it,  and  he  appears  to  have  made  him- 
self conspicuous  in  Paris  only  as  a  drinker.  He 
accompanied  to  France  Master  Raleigh,  the  son  of  the 
famous  captain  and  writer.  The  young  fellow,  an 
enterprising  youth  who  had  already  killed  his  man 
in  a  duel  (his  tutor  being  the  last  person  who  might 
have  blamed  him  for  it,  as  he  had  done  the  same),  gave 
himself  the  pleasure  of  causing  his  mentor  "  to  be 
drunken  and  dead  drunk  so  that  he  knew  not  where 
he  was."     Young   Raleigh  placed  him  then  on  a  car, 

1  These,  for  example  (so  readily  accepted  in  France)  : — 

"  Take 
Much  from  the  sight,  which  fair  report  will  make 
Present  anon  :   Medea  must  not  kill 
Her  sons  before  the  people. 

.   .  .   Not 
Any  fourth  man,  to  speak  at  all  aspire." 

This  Poetical  Art,  finished  about  1604  (and  accompanied  by  a 
commentary  which  disappeared  in  the  fire  that  destroyed  Jonson's 
library),  came  out  only  in  1640.  "  Ce  qu'on  ne  doit  point  voir," 
Boileau  will  say,  drawing  from  the  same  source,  "qu'un  recit  nous 
l'expose."  Previous  translations  :  by  Elizabeth  (incomplete  and 
left  by  her  in  MS.,  see  supra,  p.  35)  ;  by  Th.  Drant,  "Horace, 
his  Arte  of  Poetrie,"  London,  1567,  \°. 


6o  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

which  was  drawn  in  the  streets  of  the  capital,  and 
passers-by  were  free  to  admire  Silenus  asleep.  The 
anecdote  is  so  strange  that  we  might  doubt  the 
truth  of  it,  did  we  not  hold  it  from  Jonson 
himself.1 

The  Bryans  and  Jonsons  could  only  be  remembered 
as  drunkards  ;  the  Wyatts,  Sackvilles,  and  Sidneys  as 
model  gentlemen,  speaking  French  as  all  gentlemen  did 
(Hubert  Languet  notes  that  Sidney's  pronunciation 
of  it  was  nearly  perfect),2  their  English  poems  and  all 
English  literature  remained  unknown.  The  knowledge 
of  literary  England  was  so  strictly  limited  to  the  Latin 
works  she  had  produced,  that  writers  using  the 
English  tongue  had  no  great  illusions  themselves 
on  that  score.  Nash  notices  in  1592  what  we 
observe  ourselves  three  centuries  later  :  that  the  pro- 
digious impulse  received  by  dramatic  art  in  London 
at  that  time  remained  totally  ignored  in  France,  Spain, 
and  Italy.  In  order  that  his  fellow  authors  and 
the  actors  who  performed  their  plays,  might  receive 
their  due,  he  was  preparing  a  work  in  Latin  to  make 
their  names  known  beyond  the  seas.  3  He  did  not 
carry  out  his  plan  ;  and  so  it  befell  that  the  only 
dramatist  of  Great  Britain  who  influenced  the  French 
stage     at     all    was     that     Franco-Scotchman,     George 

1  This  took  place  "anno  16 13."  "Conversations  with  Drum- 
mond,"  in  "Works  of  Ben  Jonson,"  cd.  Cunningham,  vol.  Hi., 
p.  483.      The  conversations  are  dated  January,  1619. 

2  Letter  dated  1574,  "Correspondence  of  Sidney  and  Languet," 
ed.  Pears,  London,  1 845,  8°,  p.  38. 

3  "  pierce  Penilesse,"  1592.  "Complete  Works,"  Grosart,  vol. 
ii.,  p.  93. 


EARLY  DAYS  61 

Buchanan,  the  author  of  "Jephtes,  sive  Votum,"  and 
of  "  Baptistes,  sive  Calumnia." 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  in  1616,  at  the  time  of 
Shakespeare's  death.  His  writings,  his  name,  those  of 
Spenser,  of  the  Elizabethan  lyrists,  "  Amourists,"  and 
dramatists  were  unknown  ;  scarcely  a  few  short  literary 
works  in  prose  had  been  translated  :  "  Anglicum  est, 
non  legitur." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE 


THE  starting  points  stood  very  close  together,  but 
the  roads  unfolded  in  opposite  directions.  Soon 
those  who  followed  them  could  no  longer  see 
and  hear  each  other.  After  having  had  the  same 
mysteries  and  the  same  moralities,  having  enjoyed  the 
same  jokes,  laughed  at  the  same  pardoners  and  at  the 
same  shrewish  wives  and  silly  husbands,  London,  in 
the  first  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  had  Shake- 
speare to  admire  ;  while  Paris  was  seized  with  a  passion 
for  Mairet.  There  remained,  it  is  true,  in  both 
countries,  free  lances  and  rebels  who  persisted  in  follow- 
ing their  own  by-ways  far  from  the  high-roads  ;  and 
thanks  to  them,  as  time  rolled  on,  a  little  neighbourly 
intercourse  was  still  kept  up,  an  intercourse  unpro- 
ductive and  rare,  as  these  independents,  who  strayed 
from  the  national  ways,  could  teach  nothing  to  the 
strangers  they  met,  because  they  were  too  like  them. 
The  first  English  dramatist  sincerely  admired  in  France 
was  not  Shakespeare,  but  classical  Addison.      Dryden  in 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  65 

England  modelled  himself  not  upon  the  sober  elegance 
of  Racine,  but  upon  the  grandiloquent  heroism  of 
f  Monsieur  Calpranede."  x  Classical  Addison  could 
not  teach  the  French  of  Louis  XIV.  anything,  nor 
could  grandiloquent  La  Calprenede  instruct  in  any 
way  the  English  of  the   Restoration. 

Nothing  can  better  show  the  difference  in  the  genius 
of  the   two   nations.      The   same   rigorous   doctrine  is 
upheld  in  both  countries,  at  the  same  hour,  by  equally 
authorized  leaders  ;   it   is  accepted   in   France  bv  pro- 
fessionals and  bv  the  public,  and   rejected   in   England. 
English   classical    dramatists    soon   become   curiosities  ; 
irregular  dramatists  will  become  curiosities  before  long 
on  the  French  side  of  the  Channel.    The  stern  doctrines 
of  theorists  were  welcomed   in   France  from  the  very 
first  bv  the  best  thinkers  and  writers,  and  gradually  by 
j  every  one,  with  a  growing  enthusiasm.      The   French 
had  not  learnt  antiquitv  in   the  sixteenth  centurv  ;  thev 
seemed    to    recognize   what    thev   had    known    before. 
Those  Greeks,  those  Romans,  were  their  own  flesh  and 
\  blood,   as  thev  thought  ;  Aristotle    and    Horace   were 
i  their    ancestors;     "Aristotle,"    according    to    a    witty 
j  saying   of   Faguet,    "  is   in    truth    the   earliest    French 
1  dramatic  critic."  2     A  perfect  and  intimate  understand- 
!  ing  could  thus  spring  up  between  the  theorists  and  the 
1  public,  an   understanding   so   dear   to   the   public,  that 
when  later  a  reaction  began,  in  the  eighteenth  centurv, 
and  when   other  theorists  tried  to  teach  other  doctrines 

1   Preface  to  the  "  Conquest  of  Granada." 

-  "  Aristote  est  en  verite  le  premier  des  critiques  dramatiques 
francais."  Faguet,  "  La  Tragedie  Francaise  au  X\T  siecle,'" 
1883,   p.    35. 

6 


66  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

antagonistic  to  rules,  the  main  resistance  and  the  hardest 
to  break  came  from  the  public  ;  a  resistance  so 
stubborn  that  it  took  more  than  a  hundred  years 
to  subdue  it. 

The  regulars  had,  however,  a  struggle  to  sustain 
under  Louis  XIII.  and  under  the  regency  of  Anne 
of  Austria.  If  the  success  was  decisive,  the  skir- 
mishes were  hot  ;  for  the  independents,  Schelandre, 
Cyrano,  Rotrou,  soldiers  of  la  Meilleraye  or  of 
Turenne,  long-sworded  and  high-feathered,  in  whom 
survived  the  fighting  traditions  of  the  Valois,  were  not 
men  to  submit  without  a  word,  nor  to  surrender  their 
fortress  without  a  struggle  ;  and  their  fortress  was  yet 
to  be  taken.  Jodelle,  Gamier,  Grevin,  neglecting  the 
general  public,  had  written  mainly  for  a  public  of 
"  connoisseurs."  Paris,  at  the  beginning  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  still  had  but  one  permanent  theatre,  that 
of  the  Brothers  of  the  Passion,  which  continued  to  be 
influenced  by  its  origin.  The  inexhaustible  Hardy 
occupied  the  stage,  producing  by  the  hundred  inco- 
herent, irregular,  romantic  plays  wherein  "  Aristotle's 
rules "  were  violated,  to  say  nothing  of  the  rules  of 
decorum,  where  executions,  armies  on  the  march,  sieges, 
battles  were  still  seen  as  in  the  old  mysteries  ;  and  the 
scene-shifter's  art  being  in  its  infancy,  recourse  had  to 
be  had  to  the  curious  process  of  "  simultaneous 
scenery." 

On  the  public  squares  where  mysteries  used  to 
be  performed,  Jesus  was  led  from  Caiaphas  to  Pilate, 
Mary  Magdalen  went  from  Palestine  to  Marseilles  ; 
trn  scaffoldings  or  "  mansions  "  disposed  around  the 
square    served    to    figure    all    the    localities    in    which 


THEBES  WRITTEN    IN   CiRF.AT   LETTERS   UPON   AN   OLDE    I  <  >'  >KK. 
BABILONIA  "    IN    THE    FRESCO   OF    BENOZZO    GOZZOLI     AT     PISA.        [/>.  67. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  69 

the  dramatic  action  took  place,  as  can  be  seen  in 
the  miniature  representing  the  martyrdom  of  Saint 
Apollinia,  preserved  at  Chantilly  (fifteenth  century)  J 
and  in  the  illuminated  manuscript  of  the  Valenciennes 
Passion,  dated  1547,  now  in  the  National  Library, 
Paris.  Plays  being  acted  now  within  a  small  space, 
inside  a  closed  building,  "  simultaneous  scenery  "  was 
used.  On  the  same  canvas  were  painted,  in  summary 
fashion  and  in  close  juxtaposition,  all  the  places  where 
the  events  in  the  play  were  located  :  a  forest  was 
represented  by  a  tree,  the  Lybian  Mountains  by  a  rock, 
Athens,  Rome,  or  Jerusalem  by  a  portico,  with  the 
name  written  above,  as  in  the  mystery  mansions,  as  in 
Gozzoli's  frescoes  at  Pisa,2  as  on  the  English  stage 
under  Elizabeth  :  "  '  Thebes '  written  in  great  letters 
upon  an  olde  doore,"  said  Sidney-  The  public  had  to 
content  itself  with  these  symbols,  which  was  not  more 
difficult  than  to  accept  "  foure  swords  and  bucklers  "  as 
sufficient  representatives  for  two  armies  which  "  flye  in." 
For  the  performance  of  that  "  Pandoste,"  which 
Hardy  and  Puget  de  la  Serre  had  both  put  on  the 
stage  without  suspecting  that  Shakespeare  before  them 
had  turned  it  into  his  "  Winter's  Tale,"  the  theatre 
was  decorated,  as  we  learn  from  the  notes  ot 
the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne's  scene-shifter,  with  scenery 
thus  ordered  :  "In  the  centre  of  the  theatre  there 
must   be   a   fine   palace  ;    on    one    side,   a   large   prison 

1  By  the  famous  Jean  Fouquet.  See  "Literary  History  of  the 
English  People,"  p.  470. 

2  Over  the  door  of  a  city  with  wondrous  palaces  :  "  Babilonia." 
See  the  engraving,  p.  67  (part  of  the  fresco  representing  the  building 
of  Babel). 


70  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

where  one  can  be  entirely  seen  ;  on  the  other  side  a 
temple  ;  below,  the  prow  of  a  ship,  a  low  sea,  reeds 
and  steps"  ;  l  viz.,  the  palace  of  Pandosto,  the  prison 
in  which  he  will  hold  captive  his  unjustly  suspected 
wife  ;  the  temple  of  Delphi,  where  the  oracle  will  be 
delivered  ;  and  the  vessel  in  which  the  forlorn  child 
will  be  placed,  being  "  like  to  have  a  lullaby  too 
rough,"  as  a  greater  master  than  Puget  de  la  Serre 
had  said.  For  the  second  day,  "  you  want  two 
palaces,  a  peasants'  house,  and  a  wood  " — the  palaces 
of  the  two  princely  fathers,  far  apart  though  they 
were  in  reality,  the  peasants'  hut  where  Favvie 
(Perdita)  was  brought  up,  and  the  wood  where  she  met 
Doraste  (Florizel).  Scene-shifter  Mahelot  is  careful 
to  give  also  the  list  of  movables  necessary  for  the  play, 
and  they  consist  of  "  a  chafing  dish,  a  ewer,  a  chaplet 
of  flowers,  a  flask  full  of  wine,  a  cornet  of  incense,  a 
thunder,  some  flames  ;  at  the  fourth  act  you  must  pro- 
vide a  child,  and  you  want  also  two  candlesticks  and 
some  trumpets."  Notes  in  a  later  hand,  preserved  in 
the  same  album,  show  how  much  less  was  needed  for  the 
performance  of  Racine's  or  Corneille's  great  tragedies. 

1  "Au  milieu  du  theatre,  il  faut  un  beau  palais  ;  a  un  des  costes 
une  grande  prison  ou  Ton  paraist  tout  entier  ;  a  l'austre  coste,  un 
temple,  au  dcssous,  une  pointe  de  vaisseau,  une  mer  basse,  des 
rozeaux  ct  marches  de  degrcs."  "  Memoire  pour  la  decoration  des 
pieces  qui  se  representent  par  les  commediens  du  Roy  entretenus 
de  Sa  Majcstc',"  by  Laurent  Mahelot,  on  whom  some  particulars  will 
be  found  in  Riga!,  "Hardy,"  Append.  I.  The  general  title  of 
the  MS.  is  :  "  Memoire  de  plusieurs  decorations  .  .  .  commence 
par  Laurent  Mahelot  (about  1 63  I )  ct  continue  par  Michel  Laurent 
en  l'annee,  1673."  MS.  Fr.  24,330  in  the  National  Library, 
rol.    20,  unpublished. 


, 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  QUATORZE  73 

In  opposition  to  the  "decor  simultane,"  and  no  less 
characteristic  of  the  times,  the  "  palais  a  volonte," 
palace  at  will,  any  palace,  recurs  at  every  page.  For 
the  Cid  all  you  want  is  "  a  room  with  four  doors,"  and 
the  list  of  movables  -contains  one  single  article,  "  an 
armchair  for  the  king."  l 

But  the  two  roads,  in  the  early  part  of  the  century, 
were  not  yet  far  apart  ;  the  two  stages  continued  to 
resemble  each  other.  Mahelot's  devisings  are  quite 
like  those  which  Sidney  had  derided  in  London  years 
before,  with  "  Asia  of  the  one  side  and  Affrick  of  the 
other,"  in  plays  where  the  heroine,  "  after  many 
traverces  is  got  with  childe,  delivered  of  a  faire  boy  ; 
he  is  lost,"  &c.2  It  seems  as  though  Sidney  were 
scoffing  at  the  "  Winter's  Tale  "  that  was  to  be  ;  while 
the  audience  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  admired  it 
unawares. 

If,  however,  the  English  drama  was  ignored,  every 
one  in  Paris  was  familiar  with  the  Spanish  drama,  and 
the  chief  master  of  that  art,  Lope  de  Vega,  had  made 
known  his  views  on  the  question  of  rules  in  the 
most  outspoken  fashion  :  "  When  I  have  to  write  a 
comedy,"  he  had  said  in  his  "  New  Dramatic  Art," 
1609,  "  I  put  all  rules  under  lock  and  key  ;  I  send 
away  from  my  study  Plautus  and  Terence  lest  I  should 
hear  their  cries  .   .   .   and  then  I  write  according  to  the 

1  "Theatre  esc  une  chambre  a  quatre  portes  ;  il  faut  un 
fauteuille  pour  le  Roy."  For  "  Heraclius,"  "le  theatre  est  une 
salle  de  palais  a  volonte";  for  "  Polyeucte,"  "  le  theatre  est  un 
palais  a  volonte  "  ;  tor  Racine's  "  Bajazet,"  "  le  theatre  est  un 
sallon  a  la  turque." 

2  "Apologie,"    1595,  ed.  Arber,  1869,  pp.  52,  65,  64. 


74  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

art  invented  by  those  whose  object  was  to  obtain  the 
applause  of  the  multitude."  Like  the  "  Ligueurs  "  of 
yore,  the  French  independents  could  thus  count  upon 
the  aid  of  the  regiments  of  Spain  ;  they  made  sallies 
and  fought  battles,  deriding  in  anticipation  the 
Academie  and  her  expunged  Dictionary  :  "  You 
censors  of  words  and  rhymes,"  exclaimed  in  soldierly 
style,  the  soldier  poet  Jean  de  Schelandre,  "  with  your 
pumice  and  files,  you  give  prettiness  and  rub  off 
beauty.  As  a  soldier  I  speak  and  write.  Know  you 
that  strength  in  the  spring,  not  smoothness  in  the 
surface,  makes  a  worthy  lock  for  a  good  arquebuse."  r 
Schelandre  practised  as  he  preached  ;  he  gave  in 
1628  a  new  edition  of  his  wild,  unruly  tragedy  of 
"  Tyr  et  Sidon,"  with  a  preface  written  for  him  by  his 
friend  Ogier,  and  pervaded  with  the  very  ideas  which 
Lope  de  Vega  had  expounded  in  his  essay.2  Ogier 
rejects  the  unities,  banishes  the  insufferable  messengers, 
retailers  "  of  sorry  intrigues"  that  ought  to  be  left  "at 
the  inn"  ;  recommends  a  combination  of  the  comic  and 
tragic  elements  in  the  same  play  :  to  separate  them  "  is 
to  ignore  the  condition  of  men's  lives,  of  whom  the  days 

1    "  O  censeurs  des  mots  ct  des  rimes, 
Souvcnt  vos  ponces  et  vos  limes 
Otent  le  beau  pour  le  joli  ; 

En  soldat  j'en  parle  et  j'en  use  ; 
Le  bon  ressort,  non  le  poli 
Fait  le  bon  rouet  d'arquebuse." 

Asselincau  "Jean  de  Schelandre,  1  585-1635,"  Alencon,  1856,  p.  3. 
See  below,  p.  115. 

'•'  "Tyr  et  Sidon,"  Paris,  1628,  8°.  1st  ed.  (without  the  Preface), 
1608.  It  offers  a  strange  medley  or"  tragedy,  low  comedy,  lyricism 
and  bloodshed,  with  battles,  scaffolds,  drunkards,  &c. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  77 

and  hours  are  ofttimes  intermingled  with  laughter  and 
tears,  with  contentment  and  affliction,  according  as  they 
are  moved  by  good  or  by  evil  fortune."  Ogier,  with- 
out knowing  it,  was  defending  the  poetical  creed  of 
Shakespeare. 

There  are  scarcely  any  articles  of  that  unknown  and 
uncodified  creed  that  did  not  then  find  some  defender 
in  France  :  blank  verse,  the  use  of  prose  in  a  tragedy, 
freedom  of  speech  and  attitudes,  murders  on  the  stage, 
scenes  drawn  from  national  or  contemporaneous  history, 
representation  of  sentiments  as  exalted  and  as  low  as 
human  nature  will  warrant.  D'Urfe,  the  author  of  the 
famous  "  Astree,"  is  for  blank  verse  without  rhyme. 
"  The  Italians  can  boast,"  he  says,  "  of  being  to-day 
the  most  exact  observers  of  the  laws  of  dramatic 
poetry  "  ;  and  they  reject  rhyme.  D'Urfe  decides, 
therefore,  to  "  clear  that  path  as  vet  unexplored  by 
us  Frenchmen,"  and  he  writes  a  pastoral  drama,  where 
shepherds  express  their   love   in   French    blank  verse.1 

1  Of  which  here  is  a  specimen  (beginning  of  the  plav)  : — 

"  Le  prix  d'amour  c'est  seulement  amour, 
Et  sois  certain,  Hylas, 
Ou'on  ne  peut  acheter 
Si  belle  marchandise 
Qu'avec  ceste  monnoye. 
II  faut  aymer  si  Ton  veut  estre  avme." 

"La  Sylvanire  ou  la  Morte-vive,  fable  bocagere  de  Messire 
Honore  d'Urfe,"  Paris,  1627,  8vo.  Other  poets  were  of  the  same 
opinion,  Chapelain  especially,  who  would  admit  on  the  stage  onlv 
prose  or  blank  verse.  Rhymed  verse  is,  according  to  him,  "  an 
absurdity"  in  a  drama,  and  it  "oste  toute  la  vraysemblance."  All 
foreigners,  he  adds  (meaning  the  Italians  and  Spaniards),  agree  in 
that  :  "  Nous  seuls,  les  derniers  des  barbares,  sommes  encore  en  cet 


78  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Gabriel  Bounin,  before  him,  had  used  a  variety  of 
metres  in  his  tragedy  of  "  La  Soltane,"  even  trying 
the  experiment,  very  uncommon  in  French,  of  lines 
of  fourteen  feet.1 

La  Calprenede,  on  the  other  hand,  turns  contem- 
porary history  into  dramas  based  "  on  good  memoirs 
which  I  had  received  from  persons  of  condition,  who 
were  themselves,  perhaps,  parties  to  the  events  therein 
recorded. "2  Puget  de  la  Serre,  author  of  "  Pandoste," 
who  had  accompanied  Marie  de  Medicis  to  London  at 
the  time  of  the  marriage  of  Henrietta  of  France  to 
Charles  L,  introduces  bloody  and  horrible  spectacles 
into  a  tragedy  in  prose  on  an  historical  subject  : — 

"  The  King  (Henry    VIII.).    Bring  me   the    heads  of  his   com- 
panions to  show  him  how  I  treat  his  like. 
{An  empty  charger  is  brought,  and  several  others  filled  with  heads.) 

The  King.  You  have  seen  my  cruelty  only  in  painting  ;  here 
it  is  in  relief,  and  this  empty  charger,  to  be  filled,  awaits  your  head. 

Thomas  Morns.   O  precious  relics  of  martyred  bodies  !  "3 


abus."     "Dissertation,"  1630  ;  text  in  Arnaud  "  D'Aubignac,"  1887, 
Append.  IV. 

1   "Le  Saltan.   Sus,  sus,  muets,  courez,  volez,  aigrissez  vos  courages, 
Aiguisez  vos  glaives,  seigneurs,  vos  furiantes  rages  ; 
Or  sus  occiez,  meurdrissez  ce  traitre  deloial, 
Hautain  qui  m'a  voulu  ravir  raon  sceptre  imperial." 
("La  Soltane,"  1  56 1 ,  40,  p.  71.) 
2  "  Le   Comte  d'Essex,  Tragedie,"  1650.      He  is  less  scrupulous 
in   his  "LMor.ard,"   164.0,  where  the  King  of  England   marries  the 
Countess   of   Salisbury,   previously   entangled   in    the   folds    ot    this 
dilemma  : — 

"  Madame,  c'est  assez  ; 
On  vous  estes  ma  Rcync  011  vous  m'obeissez." 
"Thomas  Morns  oil  lc  triomphe  dc  la   toy  ct  de  la  Constance," 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  79 

Cyrano  de  Bergerac  produces  an  "  Agrippine,"  high 
flown  and  high  sounding,  marred  by  the  most  execrable 
bad  taste, l  but  strewn  with  bold  strokes,  of  a  grandeur 
so  truly  Shakespearean  that  some  have  believed  those 
passages  to  be  the  outcome  of  an  imitation  of  the 
English  master.2  The  resemblance,  however,  is  for- 
tuitous, and  Cyrano  never  knew  "  Hamlet."  "  To 
die  —  to  sleep  — "  occurs  in  a  tragedy  of  Gabriel 
Bounin  ;    and    will    it    be    said    that    Bounin    imitated 

Paris,  1735,  8vo  ;  first  ed.,  1642,  _j.to.  After  his  journey  to 
London,  La  Serre  published  an  "  Histoire  de  l'entree  de  la  Reyne, 
mere  du  Roy  tres  Chrestien,  dans  la  Grande-Bretagne,"  London, 
1639,  folio.  Superb  engravings  :  see,  e.g.,  the  Guildhall,  behind 
which  extends  the  open  country,  with  a  range  of  green  hills  and 
lanes  bordered  with  hedges  ;  sig.  E.  2. 

1  Thus  he  describes  how  in  battle  heroic  Germanicus  dealt  "such 
strokes  that  he  disappeared  entire  into  them." 

"  Se  cachoit  tout  entier  dans  les  coups  qu'il  donnoit." 

His  conquests  were  so  rapid  that  he  "outran  the  sun  who  was 
flying  before  him"  — 

"  Ou'il  devanca  le  jour  qui  couroit  devant  luv." 

C/.  "The  English  Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,"  p.  258. 

2  Including  no  less  an  authority  than  Mr.  Sidney  Lee,  who,  in 
his  admirable  "Life  of  William  Shakespeare"  (1898,  p.  347), 
speaks  of  Cyrano's  having  "plagiarised  "  Shakespeare.  But  Cyrano 
never  knew  English  ;  there  is  no  serious  proof  of  his  having  ever 
visited  England  (the  allusion  in  the  "  Etats  de  la  Lune  "  affords  no 
such  proof)  ;  the  passages  quoted  below  recall  Hamlet,  to  be  sure, 
but  they  are  much  more  in  accordance  with  Seneca,  and  with 
the  genius  of  Cyrano  himself.  Speeches  of  this  sort  were  not  a 
rarity  with  the  old  French  independents  ;  Cyrano,  if  he  wanted 
models,  could  find  as  many  as  he  pleased  in  his  own  compatriots' 
works. 


8o  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

"Hamlet"?  He  wrote  in  1561.1  The  romantics 
of  both  countries  naturally  resembled  each  other.  One 
cannot  read  the  lines  in  which  the  ghost  of  Germanicus 
comes  to  disturb  Agrippina's  repose  in  Cyrano's  tragedy 
without  remembering  the  royal  ghost  of  Elsinore  : — 

"  Agrippine.   Sanglante  ombre  qui  passe  et  repasse  a  mes  yeux, 
Fantome  dont  le  vol  me  poursuit  en  tous  lieux, 
Tes  travaux,  ton  trepas,  ta  lamentable  histoirc 
Reviendront-ils  sans  cesse  offenser  ma  memoire  r 
Ah  !    trevc,  cher  epoux,  si  tu  veux  m'affliger, 
Prete  moi,  pour  le  moins,  le  temps  dc  te  venger. 
Corn'elie.   II  vient  vous  consoler  de  sa  cruellc  absence. 
Agrippine.    II  vient,  il  vient  plutot  me  demander  vengeance." 

The  hour  of  the  long-expected  revenge  arrives  ; 
Agrippina  has  Sejanus  in  her  power,  and  gives  vent 
to  the  atrocious  joy  which  fills  her  heart  at  the  prospect 
of  the  vanquished  enemy's  torture.  Sejanus  remains 
unmoved,  and  expresses  himself  in  a  way  that  shows 
he  has  long  been  accustomed  to  face  the  awful  problem 
of  the  dark  beyond.  His  gaze  has  been  as  intense  as 
Prince  Hamlet's,  but  his  temper  is  quite  different  ;  he 
is  not  a  moody  thinker,  but  a  man  of  action,  his  doubts 
have  been  quickly  resolved  into  certitudes,  he  is  in- 
sensible alike  to  spiritual  and  to  physical  fear.  Why 
fear  ?  The  worst  is  death,  and  death  is  nothing. 
"  Was  I  unhappy  when  I  was  not  ?  "  says  he  (trans- 
lating Seneca  word  for  word),  "  An  hour  after  death  our 
dissolved  soul  will  be  what  it  was  an  hour  before  life." 


1   "  Moustapka.  A,  Sophe,  mais  encor,  mais  qu'est  ce  que  mourir 

Sinon,  chez  les  aucuns,  tin  perpetucl  dormir  ?  .   .  ." 
("La  Soltane,"  I  561,  p.  58.) 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  81 

**  Sejan.  Cela  n'est  que  la  mort  et  n'a  rien  qui  m'emeuve. 

Agrip.  Et  cette  incertitude  oil  mene  le  trepas  ? 

Sejan.  Etais-je  malheureux  lorsque  je  n'etais  pas  ? 

Une  heure  apres  la  mort,  notre  ame  evanouie 
Sera  ce  qu'elle  etait  une  heure  avant  la  vie. 

Agrip.   Mais  il  taut,  t'annoncant  ce  que  tu  vas  souffrir, 
Que  tu  meures  cent  fois  avant  que  de  mourir. 

Sejan.  J'ai  beau  plonger  mon  ame  et  mes  regards  funebres 
Dans  ce  vaste  neant  et  ces  longues  tenebres, 
J'y  rencontre  partout  un  etat  sans  douleur 
Qui  n'eleve  a  mon  front  ni  trouble  ni  terreur  ; 
Car  puisque  Ton  ne  reste,  apres  ce  long  passage, 
Que  le  songe  leger  d'une  legere  image, 
Et  que  le  coup  fatal  ni  fait  ni  mal  ni  bien, 
Vivant  parce  qu'on  est,  mort  parce  qu'on  n'est  rien, 
Pourquoi  perdre  a  regret  la  lumiere  recue, 
Qu'on  ne  peut  regretter  apres  qu'elle  est  perdue  r 
Pensez-vous  m'etonner  par  ce  faible  moyen, 
Par  l'horreur  du  tableau  d'un  etre  qui  n'est  rien  ? " 

Many  other  elements  of  the  Shakespearean  drama 
can  be  found  in  the  works  of  those  independents  who 
did  not  know  the  English  master  :  his  graceful  fancies, 
his  realistic  details  in  the  midst  of  comedies  that  re- 
semble at  times  lyrical  dramas  and  at  other  moments 
fairy  tales  ;  his  plots  and  situations,  the  very  feel- 
ings of  his  grandest  characters.  Orantee,  in  Rotrou's 
"Laure,"  meeting  unexpectedly  a  "belle  inconnue" 
at  a  ball,  falls  in  love  at  first  sight.  He  loves  her  at 
once  and  for  ever,  as  Romeo  loved  Juliet  when  he 
first  met  her  in  the  hall   of  the  Capulets.1      He  is  led 

1  "  Octave.      Un  jour  done,  en  un  bal,  un  seigneur  .   .   . 
Orantee.  Fut-ce  moi  : 

Car  ce  fut  en  un  bal  qu'elle  recut  ma  foi, 
Que  mes  yeux  eblouis  de  sa  premiere  vue 
Adorerent  d'abord  cette  belle  inconnue, 


82  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

at  one  time  to  think,  her  unfaithful,  and  his  moan,  his 
despair  at  having  been  "  desabuse,"  recall  Othello's 
passions  :  "  'Tis  better  to  be  much  abused,"  says  the 
Moor,  "  than  but  to  know't  a  little.  ...  I  had  been 
happy  ...  so  I  had  nothing  known."  l  Quinault 
imitates  Rotrou,  who  imitated  Spain,  and  in  1653, 
remodelling  a  play  of  1636,  he  gives  his  charming 
"  Ri vales."  It  is  almost  a  tragedy  ;  the  heroes  talk 
of  "  their  glory "  ;  it  contains  lyric  monologues  in 
stanzas  similar  to  those  in  the  "Cid": — 

"  Raison,  n'cn  parlez  plus,  laissez  agir  ma  rage  ; 
Bien  qu'Aloncc  tout  scul  m'outragc,"  Sec. 

It  also  contains  hostelry  adventures  worthy  of  Don 
Quixote.  The  scene  takes  place  sometimes  in  Lisbon, 
sometimes  elsewhere  ;  sometimes  on  a  heap  of  stones, 
sometimes  in  the  hall  of  a  roadside  inn.  The  little 
details  of  everyday  life  are  not  forgotten  ;  the 
characters  yawn,  laugh,  ask  the  hour,  as  they  do  in 
Shakespeare  :— 

"  Je  voudrais  bien  savoir  quelle  heure  il  pourrait  ctre." 

They  fall  asleep  without  blowing  out  their  candle,  and. 
it  is  remarked  ;  they  talk  loud  :   "  Bless  me  !   how  she 

Ou'ils  livrerent  mon  eauir  a  l'empire  des  siens 
Et  que  i'offris  mes  bras  a  mes  premiers  liens." 

("  Laure,"  iv.  2,  performed  1637.) 
1  "  Orantee.  £)u'on  m'a  fait  un  plaisir  et  tristc  et  deplaisant, 
Et  qu'on  m'a  mis  en  peine  en  me  desabusant  ! 
Ou'on  a  blesse  mon  cceur  en  guerissant  ma  vue, 
Car  enfin  mon  erreur  me  plaisait  inconnuc  ; 
D'aucun  trouble  d'esprit  je  n'etais  agitc 
Et  Tabus  me  servait  plus  que  la  verite." — (Ibid.) 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  $3 

screams  !  "  They  do  not  call  each  other,  "  You  green 
sickness  carrion  !  "  as  old  Capulet  would  sav  to  his 
daughter  Juliet,  but  thev  are  nevertheless  sufficiently 
energetic  : — 

"  Ouc  to  dirai-je,  horreur  des  plus  abandonnees  :" 

cries  Don  Lope  on  meeting  his  daughter  in  the  streets 
before  dawn.  The  heroines  go  about  in  men's  garb, 
wear  a  sword,  and  draw  it  too,  mount  and  ride  through 
forests  in  pursuit  of  a  fickle  lover  :  the  same  lover, 
for  they  are  "rivals."  Thev  meet,  begin  bv  loving, 
each  finding  the  other  a  charming  cavalier  ;  thev 
recognize  and  provoke  each  other  to  a  duel.  A 
brother  suddenlv  appears,  the  lover  comes  in  too,  con- 
fusion is  at  its  height  ;  but  the  wisdom  of  Solomon 
brings  matters  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion.  Isabella 
sacrifices  herself,  and  prefers  to  abandon  Alonce  to  a 
rival  rather  than  see  him  dead  ;  she  is  rewarded — it  is 
she  who  finally  marries  him.  Their  adventures  end 
thus  "  comme  au  theatre "  ;  but  life  and  the  stage 
are  very  much  alike.  Shakespeare  has  said  so  in  a 
famous  line,  "  All  the  world's  a  stage."  Ouinault 
says  so  too,  word  for  word  : — 

"La  vie  est  une  farce  et  le  monde  un  theatre." 


II. 

In  spite  of  all  their  valiance  and  ardour,  the  inde- 
pendent "  cadets  "  were  not  to  win  the  dav  ;  thev 
were  made  prisoners  or  vanquished,  obliged  to  dis- 
appear or   to    disguise    themselves.      Their   stronghold 


84  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

had  to  surrender  ;  the  stage  was  occupied  by  the 
regular  troops.  The  spirit  of  vagabond  liberty,  the 
taste  for  romanticism  and  picturesqueness  shone,  from 
that  moment,  chiefly  in  literary  genres  of  lesser  impor- 
tance, in  the  immense  novels  of  the  day,  in  La 
Fontaine's  fables,  in  the  "  Belles  au  bois  dormant  " 
of  Perrault,  in  memoirs,  in  the  letters  of  Sevigne,  in 
the  opera,  which  had  then  more  literary  importance 
than   now. 

But  the  stage,  properly  speaking,  once  conquered, 
became  immediately  a  hallowed  place.  Tragedy  is 
capable  of  rules,  and  the  taste  for  rules  is  in  the  air  ; 
tragedy  shall,  therefore,  be  regular.  The  mere  fact  of 
being  regular  almost  ensures  success  ;  and  this  is  so 
true  that  Scudery,  to  secure  the  favour  of  the  public, 
talks  of  the  rules  that  he  follows  in  his  unruly 
romances.'  The  whole  nation,  chiefs  and  all,  thirsted 
for  regularity  and  good  order  ;  Malherbe's  poetry  had 
put  Ronsard's  into  the  shade  ;  Richelieu  had  come,  and 
no  one  thought  of  regretting  the  days  of  the  League  and 
of  burly  Mayenne.  The  defeat  of  the  independents  was 
inevitable,  because  the  nation  was  less  and  less  on 
their  side.  The  hour  had  come  ;  the  first  man  who 
should  write  for  the  general  public  dramas  according 
to  rule  would  be  welcome,  even  if  he  lacked  genius. 
He  did  lack  genius,  and  he  was  welcomed  ;  he  was 
Jean  de   Mairet. 

The  critics  expected  and  heralded  him.  We  must 
follow  rules,  said  Chapelain  in  1630,  while  still  young 
and  intact  (Boileau  was  not  yet  born)  :  they  have  in 
their   favour    "  the   practice    of  the   ancients,   followed, 

1    Preface  to  "  Ibrahim." 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  87 

with  universal  consent,  by  all  Italians." — But  they 
deprive  us  of  pleasures,  some  will  say. — Not  at  all,  for 
those  are  false  pleasures,  "  de  faux  plaisirs,"  pleasures 
barbarous  and  Gothic  ;  eschew  Gothism  :  "  We  see  all 
sciences  and  all  arts  renew  their  former  lustre.  .  .  . 
Every  one  is  now  awake  with  that  laudable  ambition, 
and  relinquishes  Gothism  after  having  seen  what  it  is." 
Should  people  at  this  time  of  day  "  remain  barbarous  in 
that  matter  only  ?  "  l 

Elegant  minds,  cultivated  courtiers,  the  frequenters 
of  ruelles,  thought  the  same  ;  they  pushed  Mairet  to 
the  front.  "  It  is,  perhaps,  two  years  ago,"  he  wrote 
in  1 63 1,  to  the  Comte  de  Carmail,  "since  my  lord 
Cardinal  de  la  Valette  and  you  persuaded  me  to  com- 
pose a  pastoral  play  with  all  the  rigour  that  Italians  are 
wont  to  use  in  that  agreeable  kind  of  work."  For  the 
Italian  regulars  were  not  less  known  in  Paris  than  the 
Spanish  independents  ;  their  books  were  read  and  their 
comedies  applauded  ;  eight  Italian  troupes  appeared  in 
Paris  from  1595  to  1624.2  Mairet,  encouraged  by  that 
strange  ecclesiastic,  Louis  de  Nogaret  d'Epernon, 
Cardinal  de  La  Valette,  archbishop  of  Toulouse  and 
leader  of  the  king's  armies  in  Italy,  Savoy,  and 
Germany,  studied  the  Italians,  and  saw  that  "  they 
had  no  greater  secret  than  to  submit  to  laws  similar 
to  those  of  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Latins,  whose  rules 
they  have  observed  more  religiously  than  we  have 
heretofore."  Let  us  follow  their  example,  adopt  rules, 
and  especially  "  the  most  rigorous  "  of  all,  to  wit,  "  that 


1  " 


Dissertation"     in     Arnaud's     "  D'Aubignac,"      Paris,     iS^-, 
Append.  IV.,  p.  337. 

2  Rigal,  "Hardy,"  p.  107. 


88  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

the  play  shall  at  least  conform  to  the  rule  of  the  twenty- 
four  hours."  Mairet  gave  his  "  Silvanire," l  which 
pleased  the  elegants  and  the  lettered  ;  he  gave  his 
"Sophonisbe"  in  1634,  and  carried  all  before  him. 
The  general  public  declared  itself ;  enthusiasm  knew 
no  bounds.  The .  play  was  poor,  but  regular ;  it 
was  rapturously  extolled.  Nothing  better  shows  the 
real  nature  and  the  inward  feeling  of  that  public 
than  this  prompt  success.  A  Mairet  has  spoken, 
and,  behold,  all  agree  :  here  is  the  true  way,  the 
great  art,  the  crowning  art,  the  art  which  deserves 
to  have  care  and  expense  lavished  upon  it.  "  The 
stage,"  says  Perrault,  speaking  of  this  tragedy,  "  was 
proportionately  embellished  ;  acceptable  scenery  was 
painted,  and  crystal  chandeliers  were  introduced  to 
light  it,"  instead  of  the  "few  tallow  candles  in  bits 
of  tin-plate  "  used  before,  and  which,  lighting  the  actors 
"  only  from  behind,  and  a  little  from  the  sides,  made 
them  almost  all  look  black."  2 

1  "II   paroist  done  qu'il  est  necessaire  que  la  piece  soit  dans  la 
regie  au    moins    des  vingt   quatrc    heures."     "La   Silvanire   ou    la. 
morte-vive,   tragi-comedie  pastorale,"  Paris,   1631,  40  (same  title  as 
d'Urfe's  ;   above,  p.  77). 

2  "J'ay  ouy  dire  a  des  gens  agez  qu'ils  avoient  veu  le  Theatre  de 
la  comedie  de  Paris  de  la  mesme  structure  et  avec  les  mesmes  decora- 
tions que  celuy  des  Danceurs  de  cordc  de  la  foire  Saint  Germain  et 
des  charlatans  du  Pont  Ncuf ;  que  la  comedie  se  jouoit  en  plein  air  et 
en  plein  jour,  et  que  le  bouffbn  de  la  trouppe  se  promenoit  par  la 
villc  avec  un  tambour  pour  avertir  qu'on  alloit  commencer."  (The 
recollections  thus  related  by  elderly  people  to  Perrault,  born  in  1628, 
refer  to  the  period  when  Shakespeare  was  writing  for  the  London 
stage.)  "Ensuite  on  joua  a  la  chandelle  et  le  theatre  fut  orne  de 
tapisseries  qui  donnoicnt  des  entrees  et  des  issues  aux  Actcurs  par 
l'cndroit  oil  elles  se  joignoient  l'une  a  l'autre.  Ccs  entrecset  ces  sortie 


x  ZZ 

—  r. 

s.  — 

x  y. 

1  5 

>  ? 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OLATORZE  91 

Greater  results  in  that  respect  were  secured  when  the 
chief  man  in  France,  Cardinal  de  Richelieu,  gave  free 
scope  to  his  taste  for  dramatic  art.  A  large  hall  in  his 
palace  (Palais-Cardinal,  afterwards  Palais-Royal)  was 
turned  into  a  theatre  of  such  magnificence  that  Paris 
had,  at  last,  little  to  envy  to  Vicenza  or  Parma  ;  ■  and  the 
scenery  used  in  1639  for  the  performance  of  the  famous 
"  Mirame,"  a  classical  tragedv,  written  by  the  Cardinal 
in  conjunction  with  his  favourite  poet,  Desmarets  de 
Saint  Sorlin,  might  well  have  been  designed  by  Palladio 
himself. 

"  Mirame  "  was  very  far,  however,  from  enjoying,  as 
a  play,  the  same  success  as  "  Sophonisbe."      The  fame  of 

etoient  fort  incommodes  et  mettoient  souvent  en  desordre  les  coeffures 
des  comediens.  .  .  .  Tome  la  lumiere  consistoit  d'abord  en  quelques 
chandelles  dans  des  plaques  de  fcr  blanc  attachees  aux  tapisseries, 
mais  .  .  .  elles  n'eclairoient  les  acteurs  que  par  derriere,  ce  qui  les 
rendoit  presque  tous  noirs."  After  the  "Sophonisbe,''  "la  scene 
s'embellissoit  a  proportion,  on  en  fit  les  decorations  d'une  peinture 
supportable  et  on  y  mit  des  chandeliers  de  christal  pour  l'eclairer." 
"  Parallele  des  Anciens  et  des  Modernes  .  .  .  dialogues  .  .  .  par 
M.  Perrault  de  l'Academie  Francoise,"  Paris,  1688,  fF.  4  vols.,  12  , 
vol.  iii.  (1692). 

1  Contrary  to  the  Italian  custom  (imitated  from  the  ancients,  as 
can  be  seen  at  Vicenza,  below,  p.  99)  Richelieu's  theatre  was  not 
semicircular  but  square,  and  the  rows  of  boxes  were  in  straight  lines, 
a  fashion  long  continued  in  France. 

This  room  was  allowed  to  Moliere's  troupe  when  their  "  sallc  du 
Petit  Bourbon"  was  demolished  in  1660.  The  latter  had  once  been 
the  hall  of  the  hostel  of  the  famous  Connetable  de  Bourbon,  and 
occupied  the  spot  where  the  Jardin  de  l'lnfante  now  is.  The 
States  General  of  1 6 1 4.  had  been  held  there.  As  for  Richelieu's 
stage,  it  was  in  a  ruinous  condition  when  Moliere  took  possession 
of  it,  and  important  repairs  had  to  be  undertaken.  See  Despois, 
"Theatre  Francais  sous  Louis  XIV.,"  1894.,  p.  ^o. 


92  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

Mairet  the  initiator  proved  a  lasting  one  ;  Richelieu 
had  disappeared,  Mazarin  too,  Louis  XIV.  was  in  all 
his  glory,  and  the  public  still  applauded  "  Sophonisbe." 
"  Despite  the  thirty  years  that  M.  Mairet  caused 
his  '  Sophonisbe  '  to  be  admired  on  our  stage,  she  still 
holds  her  own  ;  and  no  more  convincing  proof  of  his 
merit  is  needed  than  that  longevity,  which  may  be  called 
a  forecast  or  rather  foretaste  of  the  immortality  she 
assures  to  her  illustrious  author."  Thus,  in  1663,  after 
having  produced  all  his  masterpieces,  spoke  Corneille 
himself. 

If  any  one  could  have  saved  independent  art  and 
irregular  drama  it  would  surely  have  been  this  same 
Corneille.  To  him  genius  had  certainly  not  been 
denied,  nor  the  love  of  liberty.  A  daring  genius  was 
he,  if  ever  such  there  was,  enamoured  (like  Hugo  at  a 
much  later  date)  of  Spanish  grandeur,  deficient  in 
suppleness  and  the  art  of  management,  stumbling  on 
the  threshold  of  doors  too  narrow  for  him.  But  he 
was  not  allowed  to  obey  his  inclinations;  the  public, 
dazzled  though  they  were  by  the  "  Cid,"  would  not 
have  followed  him,  and  he  had  to  bow  to  their  decision. 
Neither  the  Academy,  nor  the  Cardinal,  nor  Scudery 
could  have  dominated  Corneille,  for  after  all,  even 
among  the  fashionable  leaders  of  literature  and  the 
elegant  refiners  of  speech,  he  had  found  partisans,  witty 
and  eloquent  defenders  of  the  liberties  he  had  taken. 
The  "  Cid  "  is  an  irregular  play  ?  Agreed,  wrote 
Balzac  to  Scudery  himself,  but  it  is  the  triumph  of 
truth  and  nature:  "And  because  what  is  acquired  is 
not  so  noble  as  what  is  natural,  nor  man's  work  so 
estimable  as  the  gifts  of  God,  one  might  sav  further- 


—     s. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  95 

more  that  knowing  the  art  of  pleasing  is  not  worth  so 
much  as  knowing  how  to  please  without  art.  .  .  .  But 
you  say  that  he  has  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and 
you  accuse  him  of  charm  and  enchantment.  I  know 
many  people  who  would  be  vain  of  such  an  accusation." 
You  oblige  the  author  to  acknowledge  that  he  has 
"  violated  the  rules  of  art,"  but  vou  are  constrained  "to 
acknowledge  that  he  possesses  a  secret  which  has  suc- 
ceeded better  than  art  itself."  He  has  deceived  the 
public  ?  "  The  deception  which  extends  to  so  large  a 
number  of  persons  is  less  a  fraud  than  a  conquest."  ' 

No  critic   as   authorized    had   ever    given    such    en- 
couragement   to   Shakespeare  ;    Jonson   had   grumbled 
that  "  Shakespeer  wanted  arte  "  ;   but  Shakespeare  had 
continued  to  follow  the  bent  of  his  genius  because  he 
had  the  public  with  him,  and  it  was  Jonson,  the  partisan 
of  the  ancients,  who  was  obliged  to  unbend  his  in  order 
to  keep  an  audience.2     With  Corneille  it  was  just  the 
I  reverse  ;   from   year  to  year   the  public  in  France  was 
becoming  more  exacting,  and  the  theorists  were  of  one 
1  mind  with  the  public  ;   Corneille  murmured  at  rules  as 
J  Jonson   did   at   Shakespeare's   ignorance   of   them,    but 
the    author    of    the    '"Cid"    was    finally    obliged     to 
J  acknowledge  himself  beaten  and  submit   to   authority. 
1  Later    on    he    would     never    have    dared,    in    a    real 
j  tragedy,  to   place  his  characters,  as  he  had  done  before, 

1  Balzac  to  Scuderv,  Aug.  2_,  16^7,  "Leure?,"  Book  iii.,  lett.  50 
I   (Elzev.). 

-  In  his  learned  study  on  d'Aubignac  (1887,  p.  1  ~  1 ),  M.  Arnaud 
!   attributes    chiefly    "aux    puissances"    the    sovereignty   of   rules    in 
France  ;    but   this  explanation    is  scarcely  sufficient  :    in   England, 
I    too,  "  les  puissances"  favoured  rules,  and  yet  rules  were  rejected. 


96  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

"  on  the  threshold  of  a  magic  grotto  "  ;  to  make  them 
prepare  philters  after  the  manner  of  Macbeth's  witches  ; 
to  show  them  "in  the  air,  on  a  car  drawn  by  two 
dragons"  ;  to  make  them  die  on  the  stage  consumed  by 
an  invisible  fire,  suffering  tortures  only  comparable  to 
the  awful  ones  described  in  "  Vathek,"  their  robes 
adhering  to  their  burnt  and  bleeding  bodies  : — 

"  Voyez  comrae  mon  sang  en  coule  a  gros  ruisscaux   .   .   . 
Ah  !  jc  briile,  je  incurs,  jc  nc  suis  plus  que  flamme."  ' 

Still  less  would  he  have  dared  to  write:  "If  some 
adore  this  rule  [of  the  twenty  -  four  hours]  many 
despise  it"  ;  2  it  would  have  been  accounted  blasphemy, 
and  he  would  have  risked  stoning. 

1  "  Medee,"  1635  ;  death  of  Creon  and  of  Creuse,  v.,  3,  4,  and 
5  ;  preparation  of  philters  by  Medea,  iv.,  1.  The  resemblance  to 
"Macbeth"  is  remarked  upon  by  Voltaire  in  his  "  Commentaire  "  : 
"  Ces  puerilites,"  he  says,  "ne  seraient  pas  admises  aujourd'hui." 
Corneille's  fancy  continued,  nevertheless,  to  have  full  play  in  his 
lyrical  comedies  and  transformation  plays:  "Andromede,"  "La 
Toison  d'Or,"  &c.  The  notes  in  Mahelot's  album  for  the  per- 
formance of  Corneille's  plays  well  exemplify  the  change  that  came 
over  the  poet.  The  "palais  a  volonte  "  is  all  that  is  wanted  for  his 
great  dramas  ;  for  the  early  ones  we  find  indications  such  as  these  : 
"  Au  milieu,  il  faut  un  palais  bien  orne.  A  un  coste  du  theatre,  un 
antre  pour  un  magicien  au  dessus  d'unc  montaigne  ;  de  l'austre 
coste  du  theatre,  un  pare  ;  au  premier  acte  unc  Nuict,  une  Lune 
qui  marchc,  des  rossignols,  un  miroir  enchante,  une  baguette  pour 
lc  magicien,  des  carquans  ou  menottcs,  des  trompettes,  des  cornets 
de  papier,  un  chapeau  de  cipres  pour  le  magicien."  Notes  for 
"  Melitc  "  (performed  1629)  with  appropriate  drawing.  MS.  Fr. 
24,330,  in  the  National  Library,  fol.  35.      See  above,  p.  70. 

2  Preface  to  "Clitandre,"  1632.  He  adds  :  "Que  si  j'ai  enferme 
cettc  piece  dans  la  regie  d'un  jour,  ce  n'est  pas  .  .  .  que  jc  mc 
sois  resolu  a  m'v  attachcr  dorenavant."      Nevertheless  he  was  forced 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  97 

It  was  risking,  at  the  very  least,  being  held  up  on 
the  stage  to  public  ridicule.  Schelandre  had  had  rules 
attacked  in  earnest  by  his  friend  Ogier  in  1628.  Times 
are  changed  ;  Desmarets  de  Saint  Sorlin,  in  1637,  gives 
to  the  independents,  as  a  defender,  his  "Visionary," 
the  ridiculous  poet  Amidor,  who  jeers  at  the  unities, 
and  is  meant  to  be  laughed  at  by  the  public.  Why, 
says  Amidor,  "  subject  ourselves  to  the  grotesque 
chimeras  of  those  people,  swaddled  in  their  austere 
rules,  who  dare  not  await  the  return  of  Phcebus  and 
care  only  for  flowers  that  last  but  a  dav  ?  " 

"  Pourquoi  s'assujettir  aux  grotesques  chimeres 
De  ces  emmaillottes  dans  leurs  regies  austeres, 
Qui  n'osent  de  Phebus  attendre  le  retour, 
Et  n'aiment  que  des  fleurs  qui  nc  durent  qu'un  jour  ?  " 

He  continues,  unwittingly  praising  Shakespearean 
tragedy,  and  the  public  unknowingly  condemns  it. 
With  those  rules,  he  says,  the  mind  can  embrace  nothing 
grand  ;  when  we  have  a  hundred  fine  inventions  in  one 
play,  then  have  we  also  a  swarm  of  fine  ideas  :  — 

"  L'esprit  avec  ces  lois  n'embrasse  rien  de  grand  .  .  . 
Dans  un  merae  sujet  cent  beautes  amassees 
Fournissent  un  essaim  de  diverses  pensee-, 
Par  exemple.  .  .  ." 

He  gives  an  example  ;  it  is  a  tragedy  as  full  of  action 
as  "  Hamlet,"  with  journeys  bv  sea,  fights  bv  land,  a 

to  take  that  resolution  and  to  keep  it  as  he  could  :  "  }e  ne  puis 
denier  que  la  regie  des  vingt  et  quatre  heures  presse  trop  les 
incidents  de  cette  piece.  .  .  .  L'unite  de  lieu  .  .  .  ne  m'a  pas 
donne  raoins  de  gene  dans  cette  piece."  "Examen  du  Cid,"  per- 
formed, end  of  16^6. 


9«  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

king  who  dies  of  grief,  a  return  home,  a  burial,  the 
election  of  a  new  king,  a  mourning  princess,  &c.  : — 

"  Trois  voyages  sur  mer,  les  combats  d'une  guerre, 
Un  roi  mort  de  regret  que  Ton  a  mis  en  terre, 
Un  retour  au  pays,  l'appareil  d'un  tombeau, 
Les  etats  assembles  pour  faire  un  roi  nouveau, 
Et  la  princesse  en  deuil  qui  les  y  vient  surprendre   .  .   . 
Voudrez  vous  perdre  un  seul  de  ces  riches  objets  ?  "  x 

The  public  apparently  had  no  objection  to  losing  one 
or  all  of  those  "  rich  objects,"  and  laughed  heartily  at 
Amidor  and  his  antiquated  literature. 

All  success  was  for  the  regulars,  all  the  "  Poetical 
Arts  "  protected  them.  Before  Boileau's  appeared  we 
have  the  "  Pratique  du  Theatre  "  by  Abbe  d'Aubignac, 
who  proclaims  the  sacred  character  of  rules,  dreams 
of  theatres  constructed  "  after  the  example  of  the 
ancients  "  2  (like  Palladio's  "  Olympic  Theatre  "  at 
Vicenza),  and  registers  in  solemn  form  Corneille's  act 
of  submission  :  "  The  stage  has  changed,  and  has  per- 
fected itself  to  such  a  degree  that  one  of  our  most 
celebrated  authors" — printed  in  full  in  the  margin, 
that  none  may  ignore  it,  "  M.  de  Corneille  " — "  has 
confessed  several  times  that,  in  looking  over  plays  that 
he  had  given  to  the  public  ten  or  twelve  years  since 
with  great  approbation,  he  felt  shame  for  himself  and 
pity  for  his  approvers."  3 

1  "Les  Visionnaires,"  ii.  4.  The  subject  had  been  suggested  to 
Saint  Sorlin  by  Richelieu  ;  performed  with  great  applause,  1637  ; 
2nd  cd.,  1639. 

2  "  Projet  de  Retablissement  du  Theatre  Francois,"  1657,  40, 
p.  512. 

;    "Pratique  du  Theatre,"  1657,  p.  26. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  101 

Rules  and  unities  must  be  ;  anything  rather  than 
violate  them  ;  anything,  even  subterfuge,  trickerv,  or 
falsehood.  As  far  back  as  1639  changes  of  scene  in  a 
tragedy  seemed  to  most  people  unsufFerable  ;  Claveret 
risked  some  in  his  "  Proserpine,"  but  in  fear  and 
trembling.  Fear  is  an  evil  counsellor,  and  this  is 
what  it  induced  him  to  say  :  "  The  scene  takes  place 
in  Heaven,  in  Sicily  and  in  Hades,  where  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  reader  can  represent  to  itself  a  certain 
unity  of  place,  by  conceiving  them  as  on  a  perpendicular 
line  drawn  from  Heaven  to  Hades."  > 

Zealous  to  combine  example  and  precept,  d'Aubignac 
writes  a  "  Maid  of  Orleans,  tragedy  in  prose  in 
accordance  with  historic  truth  and  dramatic  rules."  2 
He  crams  in  as  many  difficulties  as  he  can,  and 
he  enumerates  them  complacently  ;  he  exacerbates  at 
the  same  time  the  asperitv  of  rules  ;  the  example  will, 
he  thinks,  be  all  the  better,  and  the  triumph  all  the 
greater  :  "As  the  [dramatic]  poem,  is  able  to  present 
to  the  spectators'  eyes  onlv  what  has  taken  place  in 
eight  hours,  or  at  most  in  half  a  dav,  the  plot  can 
only  be  grounded  on  one  of  the  most  capital  events  : 
and  as  they  have  happened  [with  Joan  of  Arc]  in  divers 
times  and  places,  and  as  I  cannot  take  the  liberty  or 
advancing   the   times    or    confounding    the   places,   the 


1  "  JLe  Ravissement  de  Proserpine,"  Paris,  1639,  \°  ;  note  below 
the  list  of  characters. 

2  "La  Pucelle  d'Orleans,  tragedie  en  prose  selon  la  verite  de 
l'histoire  et  les  rigueurs  du  theatre,"  Paris,  Targa,  1642,  I23.  There 
is  no  author's  name  on  the  title-page,  but  the  publisher  in  his 
epistle  to  the  reader  declares  that  the  play  is  by  "  M.  l'Abbe 
Hedelin,"  i.e.,  d'Aubignac. 


102  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRA^TCE 

finest  actions  must  of  necessity  be  merely  told."  Then 
there  is  another  difficulty,  unforeseen  by  Aristotle  : 
"  Add  also  that  the  Maid  was  tried  by  the  bishops  of 
Beauvais,  Bayeux,  and  other  ecclesiastics  and  doctors, 
a  thing  which  cannot  be  suffered  on  the  stage." 
D'Aubignac  had  luckily  a  happy  thought  :  "  I  have 
changed  the  clerical  assemblies  into  councils  of  war." 
An  intrigue  is  wanted  ;  there  shall  be  one  :  "I 
have  supposed  the  Earl  of  Warwick  to  be  in  love 
with  Joan  of  Arc,  and  his  wife  jealous  :  for  although 
history  does  not  mention  this,  it  says  nothing  to 
the  contrary."  Moreover  this  will  be  a  symbol  :  in 
the  earl  will  be  personified  "  the  feelings  of  the  more 
reasonable  among  the  English,"  and  in  his  wife,  "  the 
envy  of  the  English  against  the  Maid."  Her  death, 
"  as  it  cannot  be  represented,"  will  be  related.  Never- 
theless the  death  of  Bishop  Cauchon  will  be  seen  on  the 
stage  ;  it  will  be  a  terrible  coup  de  theatre,  but  being  a 
bloodless  one  it  can  be  allowed  :— 

"  Cauchon.  Good  God,  1  am  dead  ;  an  invisible  shaft  has  just 
pierced  my  heart.    .    .   .    {He  falls.) 

The  Duke.      He  has  no  doubt  lost  his  life."  ' 

No  doubt  he  has.  Liberty  had  Corneille  on  its 
side  ;  rules  had  d'Aubignac  on  theirs.  If  d'Aubignac 
won  the  day,  it  was,  indeed,  because  it  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  lost.     His  victory  was  complete  ;  rules  imposed 

1  "  Cauchon.  Mon  Dicu,  jc  suis  mort,  un  traict  invisible  vicnt 
de  me  percer  le  cceur.      (//  tombc.) 

Le  Comte,  Prompts  et  merveilleux  effets  de  la  prediction  de  la 
Pucelle. 

Le  Due.      Jl  a  sans  doute  perdu  la  vie." 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  103 

themselves  more  and  more  imperiously  on  the  greatest 
geniuses  of  the  age — upon  Racine,  upon  Moliere  ; 
and  they  bore  the  weight  with  marvellous  ease.  But 
what  despot  ever  thinks  his  subjects  are  submissive 
enough  ?  From  year  to  year  the  weight  increased  : 
so  much  so  that  even  the  regularity  of  Racine  was 
questioned.  Racine,  in  his  turn,  found  himself  in 
the  position  of  Corneille  ;  all  his  prefaces,  like 
Corneille's,  are  apologies  ;  even  the  preface  to  that 
model  of  regularity,  "  Andromaque,"  even  the  preface 
to  a  mere  comedy  like  the  "  Plaideurs,"  part  of  his 
audience  being  afraid  of  not  having  laughed  accord- 
ing to  rules  :  "  de  n'avoir  pas  ri  selon  les  regies." 
Racine  protests  his  respect  for  decorum  and  virtue  ;  he 
affirms  that  he  could  never  have  dreamt  of  "  polluting 
the  stage  by  the  horrible  murder  of  so  virtuous  and  so 
amiable  a  person"  as  Iphigenia  ;  he  shows  how  he  has 
"  softened  a  little  the  ferocity  of  Pyrrhus,"  without, 
however,  having  done  enough,  as  it  seems,  since  "  there 
have  been  people  who  complained  of  Pyrrhus's  angry 
words   to  Andromache,"  l   others  who  affirmed  that  a 


1  "  Quelle  apparence  que  j'eusse  souille  la  scene  par  le  meurtre 
horrible  d'une  personne  aussi  vertueuse  et  aussi  aimable  qu'il  rallait 
representer  Iphigenie  r  "  Preface  to  "  Iphigenie,"  1674.  "  Toute 
la  liberte  que  j'ai  prise,  c/a  ete  d'adoucir  un  peu  la  terocitc  de 
Pyrrhus  .  .  .  encore  s'est-il  trouve  des  gens  qui  se  sont  plaints  qu'il 
s'emportat  contre  Andromaque.  .  .  .  J'avoue  qu'il  n'est  pas  assez 
resigne  a  la  volonte  de  sa  maitresse  et  que  Celadon  (in  d'Urte's 
"  Astree  ")  a  mieux  connu  que  lui  le  parfait  amour.  Mais  que 
faire  ?  Pyrrhus  n'avait  pas  lu  nos  romans.  II  etait  violent  de  son 
naturel.  Et  tous  les  heros  ne  sont  pas  faits  pour  etre  des  Celadons." 
Preface  to  "Andromaque,"  ed.  of  1668.  ("  CEuvres,"  "Grands 
Ecrivains,"  iii.  140  ;  ii.  35.) 


104  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

performance  of  "  Britannicus  ""  could  never  please  an 
audience,"  and  finally,  others  who  declared,  when 
"  Phedre  "  was  given,  "  that  it  would  have  been  well  to 
spare  French  spectators  the  horror  of  it."  J 

Moliere,  popular  though  he  was,  had  nevertheless  to 
struggle  in  the  same  way  against  literary  salons,  more 
exacting  in  their  requirements  than  Boileau  himself ; 
wits  vied  with  each  other  in  severity.  The  more  severe 
they  were,  the  cleverer  they  thought  themselves  ;  so 
that  a  motley  crew,  in  silks  and  laces,  the  Marquis 
Ignorance  and  Countess  Prejudice,  met  at  the  first 
performances  of  his  plays,  clamouring  for  rules,  Greek 
precepts,  and  Latin  examples.  The  commander  com- 
plained of  the  liberties  taken  ;  the  viscount  declared  he 
was  shocked,  and  made  a  public  exit  after  the  second 
act  :  — 

"  L'ignorance  ct  l'crreur,  a  scs  naissantes  pieces, 
En  habits  de  marquis,  en  robes  de  comtcsscs, 
Venaient  pour  diffamcr  son  chef-d'eeuvre  nouveau    .   .   . 
Le  commandeur  voulait  la  scene  plus  exacte, 
Le  vicomte  indigne  sortait  an  second  acte.    .    .  ." 

But  what  was  the  ideal  of  Boileau,  the  author  of  those 
courageous  lines  ?  The  ideal  of  his  time  and  of  all 
France  :  unity,  clearness,  regularity,  selection,  logic  ; 
all  of  them  qualities  rare  and  noble,  placed  above  all 
others  in  French  estimation,  but  which,  carried  to 
excess,  like  all  qualities,  even  the  best  in  the  world,  are 
not  without  serious  inconveniences  and  drawbacks. 
One  of  those  inconveniences  consists  in  the  difficulty  of 

1    Opinions  of'  SaiiU-Evremond   and   of  Donncau   de  Vise.      Lar- 
roumct,  "  Racine,"  i  898,  pp.  61,  83. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  QUATORZE  105 

reconciling  so  studied  an  art  with  nature  :  for  the 
rights  of  nature  cannot  be  neglected  ;  no  one  dreams 
of  contesting  them,  and  Boileau  less  than  anv  one  ;  we 
must  learn  from  nature  only  : — 

"  Oue  la  nature  done  soit  votre  etude  unique," 

says  he.1  But  nature  is  singularly  complex,  variable, 
and  checkered  ;  if  she  is  our  only  study,  we  risk  put- 
ting on  the  stage  many  things  which  have  just  been 
forbidden  us  :  after  having  studied,  the  playwright  will 
have  to  select.  Tragedy  must  be  simple  ;  it  must 
have  few  personages,  and  only  one  hero,  as  there  is 
but  one  king  in  the  kingdom,  and  one  sun  in  the 
heavens.  We  must  make  a  point  of  being  exclusive, 
even  at  the  risk  of  having  it  said  one  day  "  that 
the  French,  who  understand  the  sun,  are  incapable  of 
understanding  the  moon"  (Heine).  No  matter  ;  moon- 
worship  will  be  left  to  hyperborean  dreamers. 

In  tragedy,  Boileau  continues,  "  pompous  verse " 
shall  be  used ;  the  spectator  will  be  filled  with  a 
"  gentle  terror,"  a  "  charming  pity  "  ;  the  poet  should 
imitate  the  brook  running  over  soft  sand,  "  sur  la 
molle  arene,"  rather  than  the  "  overflowing  torrent  "  ; 
there  will  be  no  enjambements  or  run-on  lines  ;  regu- 
larity is  our  ideal,  and  great  will  be  the  enjoyment  it 
our  lines  imitate  the  ticking  of  that   most  regular   of 

1  On  that  point  all  agreed  ;  the  two  arch-enemies,  Chapelain 
and  Boileau,  say  the  same  thing  :  "  Je  pose  done  pour  fonde- 
ment  que  l'imitation  en  tous  poemes  doit  estre  si  parfaitte  qu'il  ne 
paroisse  aucune  difference  entre  la  chose  imitee  et  celle  qui  imite." 
"Dissertation,"  by  Chapelain,  1630,  in  Arnaud's  "  D'Aubignac," 
Append.  IV. 


106  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

mechanisms,  a  pendulum.  The  unities  will  of  course 
be  observed.  The  first  place  shall  be  given  to  love, 
that  passion  being  the  true  way  to  the  heart  ;   love  : — 

"  Est  pour  aller  au  cceur  la  route  la  plus  sure." 

But  love  must  never  be  so  described  as  to  appear 
"  une  vertu."  What  must  be  "withheld  from  the 
eyes  "  shall  be  told  : — 

"  Les  yeux  en  le  voyant  saisiraient  mieux  la  chose  ;" 

no  doubt,  seeing  would  make  things  more  comprehen- 
sible, but  it  is  preferable  they  should  be  less  understood 
and  decorum  be  better  observed.  What  Boileau  said 
the  public  thought,  and  it  was  not  slow  now  to  manifest 
its  feeling  if  any  one,  great  or  small,  showed  signs  of  an 
unruly  spirit.  Antony  kills  himself  on  the  stage  in  a 
play  by  Jean  de  la  Chapelle  of  the  Academie  Francaise. 
La  Chapelle  is  of  the  Academie,  and  therefore  the  more 
guilty  :  "  This  catastrophe  is  new  and  striking,"  wrote 
the  author  afterwards  with  compunction,  "  but  it  has 
not  been  generally  liked  by  the  spectators,  who  cannot 
bring  themselves  to  accept  the  sight  of  blood  on  the 
stage,"  1 6 8  i . T 

You  will  be  noble,  continues  Boileau,  even  in 
comedy,  and  be  playful  with  dignity,  you  must 
"  badiner  noblement."  Avoid  naturalness  which  is 
only  natural,  observes  La  Bruyere  at  the  same  time  : 
"  A  farce  writer  may  draw  comical  effects  from  a 
scene  with  a  peasant  or  a  drunkard.  .  .  .  The 
characters,   it    is  said,  are  natural  ;     but  according   to 

1   "  Freres  Parf'aict,"  xii.  p.  286. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  107 

that  rule,  the  whole  amphitheatre  will  soon  be  en- 
tertained by  a  whistling  valet,  a  sick  man  in  his  closet, 
a  drunken  man  in  his  dormition  or  vomition.  Can 
anything  be  more  natural  r  "  l  For  your  serious  plays, 
resumes  Boileau,  choose  heroes  of  antiquity,  with 
sounding  names,  quite  different  from  the  "  Childe- 
brands "  of  ancient  France.  Let  your  conclusion  be 
abrupt  and  simple  ;  resort,  when  you  can,  to  the 
effective   means  of  a  suddenly  revealed   secret  : — 

"  D'un  secret  tout  a  coup  la  verite  connue," 

will  bring  about  a  prompt  and  interesting  ending. 

On  examining  closely  this  ideal,  which  was  that  of 
all  thinking  France,  one  is  struck  with  the  real  gran- 
deur that  appears  amidst  so  many  puerilities.  This 
nature,  which  should  be  observed  unceasingly,  must 
also  be  restrained  ;  at  that  cost  only  is  she  worthy  of 
constant  study  ;  man  must  overcome  himself.  The 
share  of  picturesqueness  in  life  and  art  will  be 
diminished  :  for  if  we  act  according  to  rules  our  deeds 
will  have  nothing  unexpected  ;  but  the  share  of  noble- 
ness will  be  augmented.  One  cannot  have  too  much 
dignity  ;  dignity  may  be  only  a  garment,  but  are  there 
not  examples  to  show  that  garments  have  influenced 
characters  ?  To  more  than  one  soldier,  who  was  not 
born  a  hero,  the  uniform  has  given  heart.  The  dresses 
worn  under  Louis  Quatorze  scarcelv  allow  their  wearers 
to  roll  on  the  grass,  to  fall  prostrate  on  carpets,  or 
even,  in  the  agonies  of  remorse,  on  the  steps  of  a 
church.     Man  is  magnified  bv  the  ideas  of  the  time  ; 

*  La  Bruyere,  "  Caracteres,"  "  De>  ouvrages  de  Pesprit,"  1688-90. 


io8  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

everything  relates  to  him  ;  what  is  not  man  has  little 
interest  :  let  him,  therefore,  justify  the  honour  done 
him,  and  first  of  all,  let  him  on  all  occasions  be 
master  of  himself.  He  must  possess  himself  even 
in  moments  of  passion,  even  in  his  poetical  trans- 
ports ;  otherwise  he  lowers  his  nature,  he  approaches 
to  madness,  and  the  beauty  of  his  outbursts  can 
never  compensate  for  the  danger  of  them.  "  I 
think  that  this  humour  of  composing  verses,"  wrote 
Descartes  to  a  lady  (the  mother  of  Prince  Rupert) 
who  had  herself  composed  some,  "  comes  from  a 
strong  agitation  of  animal  spirits,  which  might  entirely 
derange  the  imagination  of  those  whose  brain  is  not 
firmly  settled,  but  which  merely  warms  the  more  solid 
a  little  and  disposes  them  to  poetry."  1 

Man  must  everywhere  preserve  his  dignity  :  in  the 
presence  of  nature,  of  the  woman  he  loves,  and  whom 
he  will  address  as  "  Madame,"  and  in  the  presence  of 
God  Himself.  The  best  minds  acquire  thus  something 
chastened  and  austere  which  greatly  surprises  the 
strangers  who  visit  France  at  that  time.  People  who 
want  to  fritter  away  their  life  in  amusements  go  now 

1  "  L'inclination  a  faire  dcs  vers  que  Yotre  Altesse  avoit  pendant 
son  mal  me  fait  souvenir  de  Socrate,  que  Platon  dit  avoir  eu  une 
pareille  envie  pendant  qu'il  etoit  en  prison.  Et  je  croy  que  cette 
humcur  de  faire  des  vers  vient  d'une  forte  agitation  des  esprits 
animaux  qui  pourroit  entiercment  troubler  l'imagination  de  ceux 
qui  n'ont  pas  le  cerveau  bien  rassis,  mais  qui  ne  fait  qu'echauffer  un 
pcu  plus  les  fermes  et  les  disposer  a  la  poc'sie."  He  then  tries  to 
console  her  for  "la  funeste  conclusion  des  tragedies  d'Anglcterre,' 
the  late  tragic  events  in  England.  To  Madame  Elisabeth,  Princesse 
Palatine,  "  Lcttrcs  de  M.  Descartes,  ou  sont  trainees  plusieurs 
belles  questions,"  Paris,   1667,  3  vols.,  4°,  vol.  i.,  p.  83. 


A   LADY   GOING  TO   THE   COUNTRY — ''DAME   ALLANT   A    LA   CAMPAGNE." 

By  Lc  Pautrc,  time  of  Louis  XIV  [p.  109. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  in 

to  London,  to  the  Court  of  the  "  Merry  Monarch,"  as 
Gramont  does  ;  Hugues  de  Lionne,  the  foreign  minister 
of  Louis,  sends  his  son  there  for  la  "  petite  Genins  "  to 
sharpen  his  wit  and  rub  off  his  shyness.  ' 

Meanwhile  Racine  and  Boileau,  "  after  thirty-five 
years  of  intimacy,"  address  each  other  in  their  private 
correspondence  as  "  Monsieur,"  or  at  most  "  Mon  cher 
Monsieur."  2  Port-Royal  fulminates  against  Racine 
himself,  and  condemns  the  entire  stage  :  "  A  theatrical 
poet  is  a  public  poisoner.  .  .  .  Sins  ot  this  sort  are  the 
more  fearful,  that  they  are  ever  living,  because  those 
books  do  not  perish."  3  Bossuet  does  not  spare  Cor- 
neille4  any  more  than  Lulli,  whose  "airs  so  often 
repeated  in  the  world  serve  but  to  insinuate  the  most 
deceptive  passions  "  ;  his  music  "  is  so  easily  engraved 
in  the  memory  because  it  first  takes  hold  of  the 
ear  and  of  the  heart."     Those  noble   tragedies  of  the 

1  1665,  "A  French  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  Charles  II.,"  1892, 
pp.  1  5  2  ff. 

2  Larroumet,  "Racine,"  p.  107  ;  Racine,  "  CEuvres "  (Grands 
Ecrivains),  vol.  vii.,  pp.  91,  98. 

3  Nicole,  "  Yisionnaires,"  1666. 
*  "  Dites-moi,  que  veut  un  Corneille  dans  son  '  Cid,'  sinon  qu'on 

aime  Chimene,  qu'on  l'adore  avec  Rodrigue,  qu'on  tremble  avec  lui 
lorsqu'il  est  dans  la  crainte  de  la  perdre  et  qu'avec  lui  on  s'estime 
heureux  lorsqu'il  espere  de  la  posseder  :  .  .  .  Ainsi  tout  le  dessein 
d'un  poete,  toute  la  fin  de  son  travail,  c'est  qu'on  soit  comme  son 
heros  epris  des  belles  personnes,  qu'on  les  serve  comme  des  divinites ; 
en  un  mot  qu'on  leur  sacrifie  tout,  si  ce  n'est  peut  etre  la  gloire 
dont  l'amour  est  plus  dangereux  que  celui  de  la  beaute  meme." 
Observe  that  in  thus  placing  "  glory  "  higher  than  love,  the  heroes 
of  Corneille  showed  themselves  more  manly  than  many  a  hero  of 
Arthurian  fame:  Lancelot,  for  example,  who  sacrificed  even  "glory" 
to  his  ladv  ;  a  note  worth  v  change. 


ii2  .SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

classical  repertoire,  so  grand,  so  dignified,  so  virtuous, 
as  it  seems  to  us,  whose  only  fault,  in  some  eyes,  is 
that  they  offer  intentionally  attenuated  pictures  of 
realities,  were  not  judged  thus  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  Let  us,  it  was  said,  beware  of  the  dangers  of 
the  stage  "  where  everything  seems  real,  where  we  are 
shown  not  lifeless  sketches  and  dry  colours,  but  living 
personages,  real  eyes,  ardent  or  tender,  steeped  in  pas- 
sion ;  real  tears,  that  draw  tears  as  real  from  those  who 
look  on  ;  in  a  word,  real  passions  which  inflame  the 
whole  audience,  pit  and  boxes."  l  Thus  spoke  that 
great  judge  of  morals,  Bossuet. 

Unity,  logic,  rule,  selection.  The  government  tends 
towards  centralisation  ;  religion  "  rules  even  desires 
and  thoughts  "  ;  2  the  possibility  of  two  religions  could 
only  have  been  considered  in  an  age  of  confusion  ;  the 
sixteenth  century  ended  with  the  edict  of  Nantes,  the 

1  "  Maximes  et  reflexions  sur  la  Comedic,"  1694,  "  CEuvres 
Completes,"  Bar-le-Duc,  1863,  vol.  viii.,  p.  82.  Compare  the  testi- 
mony of  the  actor  Mondory,  who  writes  to  Balzac  in  a  tone  of 
triumph,  justifying  the  apprehensions  of  Bossuet  :  "  Le  Cid  est  si 
beau  qu'il  a  donne  de  l'amour  aux  dames  les  plus  continentes,  dont 
la  passion  a  meme  plusieurs  fois  delate  au  theatre  public  "  (January 
18,  1637)  ;  and  with  the  testimony  of  Boileau  on  the  subject  of 
Lulli  :— 

"  De  quel  air  penses-tu  que  ta  saintc  vcrra 
D'un  spectacle  enchanteur  la  pompe  harmonieuse  .  .  . 
Et  tous  ces  lieux  communs  de  morale  lubrique 
Oue  Lulli  rechaufra  des  sons  de  sa  musique  ?" 

(Satire  X.) 

2  Letter  from  a  friend  of  Port-Royal  to  Racine,  in  the  quarrel 
of  the  "  Visionnaircs,"  1666;  "CEuvres"  (Grands  Ecrivains), 
iv.,   p.    293. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  115 

seventeenth  century  with  its  revocation.  Fine,  regular, 
straight  avenues  are  drawn  across  the  parks  ;  the 
language,  like  the  parks,  is  trimmed,  cleansed,  and 
chastened  ;  the  Academy  prunes  it  of  all  those  technical 
terms  formerly  praised  by  Ronsard  and  Malherbe,  who 
wanted  a  language  both  rich  and  strong  ;  now  it 
is  wanted  above  all  noble  and  dignified.  Old  words, 
"  les  vieux  mots,"  are  excluded  from  the  great  national 
vocabulary  ;  also  new  ones,  "  nouvellement  inventes  "  ; 
also  "  terms  of  art  and  science "  ;  also  expressions 
ot  anger  or  offensive  to  modesty—'1  les  termes 
d'emportement  ou  qui  blessent  la  pudeur."  Xo  such 
improper  words  have  been  "  allowed  into  the  dictionary 
because  honest  men  avoid  using  them  in  their  speech," 
and  academicians  do  not  write  dictionaries  for  clowns. 
The  word  "  essor "  (soar)  is  accepted  out  ot  tavour, 
although  tainted  with  "  falconry."  ' 

Whole  families  of  words  are  thus  driven  from  the 
kingdom  of  poetrv  ;  for  them  too  the  edict  of  Nantes  is 
revoked  ;  in  1694  the  Academv  "  banished  "  them,  as 
she  expresses  it,  from  her  dictionary,  and  their  exile 
was  to  last  longer  than  that  of  the  Protestants. 


III. 

What  place  could  be  found  in  the  favour  of  a  public 
thus  formed,  for  an  author  who  accepts  words  ot  all 
sorts,  old  or  new,  lewd,  technical,  choleric,  or  learned  ; 
every  sentiment  and  every   idea,  and  far  from  attenu- 

1  "Dictionnaire  de  1'Acadcmie."  Preface  of  the  first  edition, 
169+. 


n6  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

ating  them  in  order  to  keep  them  within  the  bounds  of 
nobleness  and  decorum,  carries  them  to  extremes  with 
the  view  of  rendering  his  contrasts  as  decided  as  possible  ; 
an  author  who  falls  into  the  most  execrably  bad  taste, 
reaches  the  loftiest  heights  of  sublimity,  writes  plays 
with  or  without  heroes,  plays  with  whole  legions  of  per- 
sonages, among  which  he  admits  not  only  the  whistling 
valet  and  the  swearing  drunkard,  descried  as  in  a 
nightmare  by  pessimist  La  Bruyere,  but  even  dogs,  and 
even  a  bear  ("  Exit  pursued  by  a  bear  ")  ;  an  incom- 
mensurable dramatist  now  full  of  tears,  now  of  jokes, 
who  watches  the  martlets  fly  (in  the  middle  of  a 
tragedy),  wonders  whether  the  crickets  are  listening 
("  Yond'  crickets  shall  not  hear  it  "),  sings  the  sweetest 
love-songs  the  world  has  ever  heard,  divines  all  our 
joys,  weeps  for  all  our  sorrows ;  coarse  beyond 
endurance,  lyrical  beyond  all  possibility  of  adequate 
praise;  in  a  word,  what  place  was  there  for  Shakespeare 
in  the  France  of  Louis  Quatorze  ? 

A  place  all  the  smaller  from  the  fact  that  the  subjects 
of  the  "Grand  roi,"  particularly  at  the  beginning  of 
his  reign,  knew  scarcely  more  English  than  those  of  his 
grandfather,  Henri  IV.,  and  in  the  matter  of  foreign 
tongues  continued  to  take  interest  only  in  Spanish  and 
Italian.1  Madame  de  Sevigne  never  ceased  to  cultivate 
the  latter;  she  wrote  to  her  daughter  :  "  Et  1'italien, 
l'oubliez  -  vous  ?  J'en  lis  toujours  un  peu  pour 
entretenir    noblesse."     Spain   was   the   great    fount   re- 

1  Menage,  in  his  "  Origines  de  la  languc  franchise,"  Paris, 
1650,4.°,  makes  a  few  comparisons  between  French  and  English 
(see  for  instance  the  words  "  souiller,"  "  soldat  "),  but  in  his  recapitu- 
latory index  there  is  only  place  for  Latin,  Spanish,  and  Italian. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  117 

sorted  to  by  French  dramatists  and  romance  writers 
in  quest  of  a  subject  ;  her  language  continued  to  be 
commonly  studied  :  "  Spanish  grammars  have  not 
been  bought  to  the  amount  of  fifty  thousand  livres, 
but  very  near  it,"  wrote  Scarron  to  his  friend 
Marigny.  "Sir,"  said  one  day  old  M.  de  Chalon, 
late  Secretary  of  the  Commandments  of  Queen  Anne 
of  Austria,  and  now  retired  to  Rouen,  addressing 
young  Corneille,  "  the  comic  style  which  you  adopt 
can  only  procure  you  a  short-lived  glory.  You  will 
find  in  Spanish  authors  subjects  which,  treated  ac- 
cording to  our  tastes  by  hands  like  yours,  would 
produce  great  effects.  Learn  their  language  ;  it  is 
easy  ;  I  am  ready  to  show  you  what  I  know  of  it,  and 
until  you  are  able  to  read  for  yourself,  to  translate  a 
few  passages  from  Guillem  de  Castro."  Corneille 
followed  this  advice  and  wrote  the  "  Cid  "  ;  it  could 
never  have  occurred  to  him  to  seek  inspiration  in  that 
Shakespeare  whose  contemporary  he  was  for  ten  vears, 
but  from  whose  works  M.  de  Chalon  would  have  had 
great  difficulty  in  translating  a  "  few  passages."  Cor- 
neille possessed,  however,  an  English  edition  of  the 
"  Cid "  J  and  was  very  proud  of  it  ;  it  was  a  great 
curiosity.  England,  and  the  English,  figure  occasion- 
ally in  his  works  ;  a  land  and  people  convenient, 
because  distant  and  unknown.  He  wrote  a  play  of 
which  the  scene  is  laid  in  Scotland,  "  in  a  castle  belong- 

1  That  of  J.  Rutter,  "The  Cid,  a  tragi-comedy,  out  of  French, 
made  English,"  London,  1637,  1  20.  But  his  foreign  library  mainly 
consisted  of  Spanish  and  Italian  books.  In  1652,  he  bought  at 
auction  in  Rouen,  "  un  Dante  italien,  in  folio,  1  2  livres."  "  CEuvres  " 
(Grands  Ecrivains),  i.,  p.  xli. 


u8  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

ing  to  the  King,  near  a  forest "  ;  it  is  not  another 
"  Macbeth,"  it  is  his  wild  "  Clitandre."  In  the 
"  Illusion  Comique  "  figures  an  English  lord, 
"  Theagene,  seigneur  anglais  "  ;  he  might  just  as  well 
have  been  a  "  seigneur  "  of  Argos  or  of  Corinth  ; 
Corneille  could  never  have  put  "  seigneur  francais," 
or  "  seigneur  italien,"  because  he  would  not  have 
commanded  the  distance  necessary  for  the  "illusion." 

Racine's  letters  show  him  to  have  been  quite  imbued 
in  his  youth  with  Italian  literature  ;  quotations  from 
Petrarch,  Tasso,  and  especially  Ariosto,  constantly 
recur  under  his  pen.  Later  he  is  interested  in  England, 
but  as  royal  historiographer.  The  same  love  of  accuracy 
that  made  him  ask  the  French  Ambassador  to  Turkey 
for  information  on  Greece  and  the  fields  where  Troy 
had  been,1  made  him  seize  the  opportunity  of  a  meet- 
ing with  "  Monsieur  Arbert  "  at  the  English  Ambas- 
sador's, to  acquire  knowledge  about  England.  On 
coming  home  he  took  notes  which  we  still  possess, 
but  they  bear  solely  on  economic  questions  and  on  the 
militia;   "la  milice  d'Angleterre  appelee  trainbans."  2 

1  The  ambassador,  M.  dc  Guillcragucs,  describes  in  reply,  with 
doleful  accuracy,  the  naked  rocks,  the  tiny  harbours,  that  can  never 
have  sheltered  thousands  of  ships,  the  rivers,  dry  ten  months  of  the 
year,  the  poor  countrv  :  "  Les  poetes  avaicnt  des  mattresses  dans  les 
lieux  oil  ils  ont  fait  demcurer  Venus  "  ("  De  Pcra,  au  Palais  de 
France,"  June  9,  1684). 

2  "  CEuvrcs "  (Grands  Ecrivains),  v.,  p.  132.  Racine  possessed 
the  "Histoire  d'Angleterre  "  of"  Du  Chesne,  1614,  a  few  historical 
works  translated  from  the  English,  but  none  in  English.  He  had, 
on  the  other  hand,  many  Italian  and  Spanish  books,  a  Franco- 
German-Latin  dictionary,  a  Spanish  reader  (by  Lancelot).  See 
Bonncfon,  "Revue  d'Hist.  Litt.  dc  la  France,"  v.,  p.  169. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OCATORZE  119 

Boileau,  who  corresponded  with  Hamilton  and 
Gramont,  recommends  to  French  poets  the  knowledge  of 
foreign  lore  :  "  Des  pays  etrangers  etudiez  les  mceurs  "  ; 
and  he  immediately  refers  his  readers  to  "  antique  Italy." 
All  the  examples  he  takes  from  foreign  literatures  are 
drawn,  without  exception,  from  Spain  or  Italy  ;  he 
condemns  "  Tasso's  tinsel,"  the  ''showy  folly"  ot 
Italian  "  false  jewels  "  ;  he  quotes  in  his  verses  Tasso's 
religious  poem,  but  not  Milton's  ;  he  has  heard  of 
satires  written  against  women  by  Ariosto  and  Boccaccio, 
but  not  by  Chaucer  ;  of  "  Rocinante  cheval  de  Dom 
Quichot,"  but  not  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen  "  ;  of  the 
independence  of  the  stage  "  dela  les  Pyrenees,"  but  not 
beyond  the  Channel.  In  the  "  Lutrin,"  Barbin's  book- 
shop is  sacked  and  its  exotic  treasures  are  used  as 
projectiles  by  the  combatants  :  from  dark  recesses 
emerge  "  Guarinis  "  and  "  French  Tassos,"  nothing  but 
the  products  of  southern  literatures.  Addison  visited 
Boileau  in  1700,  and  found  him  old  and  a  little  deaf, 
but  "  talking  incomparably  well  in  his  own  calling  ; 
he  heartily  hates  an  ill  poet."  The  conversation 
turned  on  Homer,  Virgil,  Racine,  Corneille,  Fenelon's 
"  Telemaque,"  which  "  is  at  present  the  book  that  is 
everywhere  talked  of  "  ;  but  not  a  single  allusion  seems 
to  have  been  made  to  English  letters.1 

French  was,  indeed,  more  than  ever  before,  the  com- 
mon means  of  communication  in  Europe.  Howell 
instructed  his  "  forreine  traveller  "   to  learn  it  first  of 


1  Addison  to  Bishop  Hough,  Lyons,  December,  1700,  "Works," 
ed.  Hurd,  1854,  vol.  v.  p.  332.  According  to  Tickell,  he  showed 
Boileau  some  verses  of  his  own,  but  they  were   Latin  verses. 


[20  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

all.,  on  account  of  "  the  use  one  shall  have  of  that 
language  wheresoever  he  passe  further."  '  "As  I 
have  visited  with  care  every  part  of  Christendom," 
writes,  on  his  side,  Chappuzeau,  u  it  has  been  easy 
for  me  to  observe  that  to-day  a  prince  with  only 
the  French  language,  which  has  spread  everywhere, 
has  the  same  advantages  that  Mithridates  had  with 
twenty-two."  2 

It  was  quite  an  extraordinary  event  when,  in  the 
early  part  of  the  century,  a  few  timid  translations  of 
English  literary  works  appeared.  The  translators 
wondered  at  their  own  audacity,  and  could  not 
conceal  their  surprise.  "  Here,"  says  Tourval,  speak- 
ing of  Hall's  "  Characters,"  "  is  the  first  translation 
from  the  English  ever  printed  in  any  vulgar  tongue," 
and  he  pompously  dedicates  so  rare  a  work  to  that 
great  man,  not  only  the  Lord  High  Treasurer,  but 
the    very  Treasure    of   England  ;    that    "  grand    Cecil 

1  "Instructions  for  forreine  travcll,"  1642,  Arber's  reprint,  1895, 
p.  19.  Jean  Blaeu,  in  publishing  "  L'estat  present  de  l'Angleterre, 
traduit  de  l'anglois  d'Eduard  Chamberlayne,"  Paris,  1671,  160  (first 
English  edition,  1669),  thus  justifies  his  undertaking:  "Je  ne  l'ay 
pas  sitost  veu  en  Anglois  que  j'ay  juge  qu'il  meritoit  de  paroistre 
dans  la  langue  francoisc,  comme  estant  plus  universelle  dans  la 
chrestiente  qu'aucune  autre"  (Epistle  to  "  Monseigneur  le  Chevalier 
Temple  "). 

2  Chappuzeau,  "Le  Theatre  Francois,"  1674.,  ed.  Monval,  1876, 
p.  62.  This  favour  continued  during  the  eighteenth  century,  as  is 
shown  by  the  subject  proposed  for  competition  by  the  Berlin . 
Academy:  "  De  l'Universalite  de  la  Langue  Francaise,"  1783 
(Rivarol,  "  CEuvrcs,"  1804,  vol.  ii.).  "La  langue  Francaise  est 
devenue  cclle  de  toutcs  les  cours  et  de  presque  tous  les  gens  de 
lettres  de  l'Europe."  (De  Belloy,  "  Observations  sur  la  Langue 
Francaise,"  "CEuvrcs,"  1779,  vol.  vi.)      See  below,  p.  298. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  121 

.  .  .  non  le  grand  Tresorier  [mais]  plutot  le  grand 
Tresor  d'Angleterre."  ' 

A  greater  marvel  was  in  score  ;  the  honour  of  a 
translation,  and  even  of  two  translations,  was  paid  to 
the  "Arcadia"  of  the  "  cygne  doux-chantant,"  the 
former  guest  of  Charles  IX.,  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  The 
two  translators,  Baudoin  and  Genevieve  Chappelain, 
who  had  departed  secretly  on  their  incredible  voyage  of 
discovery,  meeting  on  the  same  shore,  looked  at  each 
other  with  stupefaction.  Fury  seized  them  ;  they 
loudly  "  bawled,"  to  use  their  own  expression,  and 
sent  each  other  challenges,  persistently  renewed  as  each 
successive  volume  of  their  translations  was  given  to  the 
world.2 

Notwithstanding  the  success  of  the  "  Arcadie," 
facilitated  by  that  of  the  "  Astree,"  attempts  of  this 
kind  continued  to  be  extremely  rare  ;  English  re- 
mained ignored.     The  unwary  traveller  could  read  in 

1  "Caracteres  de  vcrtus  ct  de  vices  tires  de  l'anglois  de  M. 
Joseph  Hall,"  new  edition,  Paris,  16 19,  12"' (first  ed.  16 10).  The 
attribution  to  Tourval  is  doubtful.  Among  the  other  translations 
of  literary  works  done  at  that  same  period,  may  be  mentioned 
Greene's  "  Pandosto,"  translated  by  L.  Regnault,  Paris,  161  5,  8°, 
Bacon's  "Essays,"  translated  by  Baudoin  in  161 1,  Nash's  "Pierce," 
which  he  affirms  had  been  put  (at  an  earlier  date),  into  French,  but 
abridged  and  spoilt,  &c.  No  copy  of  French  "Pierce"  has  yet 
been  found. 

2  "  L'Arcadie  de  la  comtesse  de  Pembrok,"  translated  by  Baudoin, 
Paris,  1624,  3  vols.,  8°.  The  translation  by  Mademoiselle  Chap- 
pelain began  to  come  out  in  1625,  3  vols.,  8°.  Mareschal  took 
the  subject  of  a  drama  from  Sidnev's  work,  "La  cour  bergere  ou 
l'Arcadie  de  Messire  Philippes  Sidney,  tragi  -  comedie,"  Paris, 
1640,  40.  On  the  Baudoin-Chappelain  quarrel,  see  "The  English 
Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,"  pp.  274  ff. 


122  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 


a  guide-book  that  the  chief  English  coins  were  called 
"  Crhon,  Alue  Crhon,  Toupens,  Alue  Pens,  Farden."  l 
Ambassadors  themselves,  in  spite  of  the  lengthy 
sojourns  they  made  in  London,  did  not  usually  learn 
a  word  of  the  language.  Cominges,  under  Louis 
XIV.,  called  a  street  "  rue  Rose  Street,"  without  sus- 
pecting that  "rue"  and  "street"  meant  the  same 
thing  ;  the  Comte  de  Broglie,  in  the  following  century, 
described  a  curious  ceremony  at  Court  which  he  called 
a  "  drerum."  "  A  French  ambassador  to  England," 
wrote  Voltaire  in  1727,  "does  not  usually  know  a 
word  of  English  ;  he  can  speak  to  three-quarters  of 
the  nation  only  through  an  interpreter  ;  he  has  not 
the  faintest  notion  of  the  works  written  in  the 
language  ;  he  cannot  see  the  plays  in  which  the 
customs  of  the  nation  are  represented."  The  "  Journal 
des  Savants"  itself,  anxious  to  justify  its  title,  had 
desired  to  give  an  account  of  English  books,  and 
had  therefore  been  obliged  to  go  in  quest  of  an 
"interpreter."  It  published  in  1665  the  following 
note  on  the  Royal  Society  of  London  :  "  This 
company  produces  every  day  an  infinity  of  fine 
works.  But  because  they  are  mostly  written  in  the 
English  tongue,  we  have  been  unable  heretofore  to 
give  an  account  of  them  in  this  Journal.  But  we 
have  at  last  found  an  English  interpreter,  by 
whose  means  we  shall  be  able  in  future  to  enrich  it 
with  everything  worthy  of  attention  produced  in 
England." 

It  needs  must  come  to  that,  since  the  English  persist 
in  using  their  own  language,  causing  thereby  real  grief 

1  "  Lcs  voyages  de  M.  Payen,"  1666,  1  20,  p.  24. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  123 

to  the  learned  of  other  countries  :  "  The  English  are 
very  clever  people,"  said  Ancillon,  "  their  works  are 
nearly  all  good,  and  many  are  excellent.  It  is  a  pity 
that  the  authors  of  that  country  write  only  in  their 
own  language,  since  bv  that  means  foreigners,  for 
want  of  understanding  them,  cannot  profit  by  their 
works,  or  if  they  read  them  it  is  only  in  transla- 
tions, for  the  most  part  faulty."  •  A  third  means, 
which  would  consist  in  learning  the  language,  was 
not  thought  of. 

The  country,  before  the  Restoration,  was  as  yet 
much  less  visited  by  tourists  than  Spain  or  Italy. 
Those  who  appeared  in  the  island,  knowing  neither 
the  language  nor  the  manners,  generally  returned 
greatly  dissatisfied  with  their  venture,  and  the  tales 
they  told  of  it  did  not  encourage  others  to  repeat 
the  experiment.  Boisrobert,  the  dramatist  and  the 
familiar  of  Richelieu,  went  there,  but  quarrelled 
with  Lord  Holland  ;  Voiture  went  and  visited  the 
Tower,  but,  as  became  the  amiable  letter-writer, 
he  scarcely  tried  to  remember  anvthing  except  the 
Countess  of  Carlisle's  beauty. 

Soon,  moreover,  all  Europe  was  seized  with  horror 
at  the  sight  of  the  unexampled  disorders  and  catas- 
trophes of  which  the  country  became  the  scene  :  a 
king  brought  to  trial  by  his  people,  and  beheaded,  a 
republic  proclaimed,  a  new  era  inaugurated  in  the 
midst  of  royalist  Europe,  dating  from  the  first  "  yeare 
of  freedome    by    Gods    blessing    restored."       Boileau, 


1  "Melange  critique  dc  litterature,  recueilli  des  conversations  de 
M.  Ancillon,"  Bale,  1698,  3  vols.  ;  vol.  i.,  "  Sur  les  Anglois." 


T24  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

who  was  then  very  young,  and  already  thought  he 
could  "  pindarise,"  addressed  poetical  imprecations  to 
Cromwell.1  Perlin's  predictions  had  come  to  pass  ; 
the  English  had  indeed  killed  and  crucified  their 
king. 

The  author  of  "  Mo'ise,"  Boileau's  future  victim, 
Saint-Amant,  whose  father  held  for  many  years  a 
maritime  command  in  the  fleet  of  Queen  Elizabeth,2 
visited  England  in  1 63 1 ,  and  in  1643-44.  He  met 
with  nothing  but  disappointments  there,  and  revenged 
himself  by  composing  epigrams  and  caricatures  in 
verse.  This  is,  however,  the  first  noteworthy  attempt 
made  by  any  French  man  of  letters  to  describe  English 
manners. 

The  English  he  considers  to  be  now  republicans  to 
the  core.      If  Fairfax  is  still  alive,  and  if  the  devil  has 


1    "  Ouoi  cc  pcuple  aveugle  en  son  crime, 

Qui  prenant  son  roi  pour  victimc 

Fit  du  trone  un  theatre  affreux, 

Pensc-t-il  que  le  ciel,  complice 

D'un  si  funeste  sacrifice, 

N'a  pour  lui  ni  foudrc  ni  f'eux  ?" 
(Ode  written  at  eighteen,  but,  he  says,  "jc  l'ai  raccommodec.") 
?-  "Feu  raon  perc,"  he  says  himself",  "commanda  autrefois,  par 
l'espacc  de  vingt-dcux  annees,  1111c  escadrc  des  vaisseaux  d'Elisabcth 
reine  d'Anglcterrc."  Adventurous  and  erratic  were  all  the  members 
of  the  family.  Marc-Antoine  de  Gerard  sicur  dc  Saint-Amant, 
Ecuyer,  Gentleman-in-Ordinary  to  the  Queen  of  Poland,  a  member 
from  the  beginning  of  the  French  Academy,  was  conspicuous  as  a 
soldier,  traveller,  and  poet.  He  visited  Africa,  America,  and  most 
countries  in  Europe.  His  father,  the  seaman,  was  three  years  a 
captive  in  the  Black  Tower  in  Constantinople  ;  one  of  his  brothers 
fought  in  Germany,  another  was  killed  in  the  Red  Sea.  Durand- 
Lapie,  "Saint-Amant,"  Paris,  1898,  8",  pp.  5,  12,  13. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  125 

not  yet  removed  him,  it  is  out  of  fear  that  his  own 
kingdom  "might  be  turned  into  a  republic  " — 

"...  craint  que  par  quelque  attentat, 
Que  par  quelque  moyen  oblique, 
Fairfax  n'aille  du  moins  renverser  son  etat 
Pour  en  faire  une  Republique." 

The  climate  is  shocking  ;  there  can  be  no  pleasure 
even  in  drinking  amidst  such  darkness  ;  a  great 
privation  for  Saint-Amant,  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
drinkers  of  his  day,  "  bon  pifre,"  as  he  calls  himself : — 

"  C'est  le  pire  des  climats  ; 
La  nue  y  fait  un  amas 
D'objets  tristes  et  funebres  ; 
Je  n'y  mange  qu'en  tenebres 
Et  n'y  bois  que  des  frimas." 

The  inhabitants  are  morose  ;  life  is  a  burden  to 
them  ;  they  hang  themselves  for  the  least  thing.  The 
Englishman  is — 

"  Si  fait  a  la  pendaison 
Ou'au  premier  mal  qu'il  se  forge, 
II  se  pese  par  la  gorge 
Aux  poutres  de  sa  maison  :  " 

an   ever-recurring    reproach,   repeated    by   every   one, 
including  La  Fontaine,  who  says  of  the  English — 

.   .   .   "  le  peu  d'amour  de  la  vie 
Leur  nuit  en  mainte  occasion." 

The  people  are  rude  :  if  foreigners  cross  the  street, 
one  will  be  elbowed  out  of  the  way,  another  insulted  :  — 

"  Et  l'autre,  avec  \xvifrench-dogue, 
Est  entrepris  et  brave." 


126  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

The  food  is  detestable  ;  the  English  are  known  to 
brew  unpalatable  mixtures  : — 

"  Maricr  dans  lcurs  pates 
La  confiture  a  la  graisse." 

What  can  be  expected  from  such  a  people  ?  What 
literature  can  they  have  ;  or  rather,  what  judgment 
could  be  passed  upon  it  by  a  visitor  so  ill-disposed, 
and,  moreover,  ignorant  of  the  language  ?  To  Saint- 
Amant,  as  to  so  many  others  before  and  even  after  him, 
this  language  is  a  patois  that  no  one  out  of  the  island 
will  ever  speak  ;  peasants'  patois  rarely  spreads  beyond 
its  village.      Any  Englishman  knows  as  much  : — 

"  11  est  bien  assez  niatois 
Pour  juger  que  ce  patois, 
Bourru,  vilain  ct  frivole, 
Est  un  oiscau  qui  ne  vole 
Ou'aux  environs  dc  ses  toits." 

The  traveller  could  not,  however,  help  noticing  that 
the  English  had  a  stage,  that  they  were  very  proud  of 
it,  that  they  went  in  crowds  to  the  play,  and  that  one 
author     in     particular    carried    all    before    him.      That  ; 
author   was   not    Shakespeare,   of  whom    Saint-Amant  I 
says    never    a    word,    but    Ben    Jonson,    still    alive    at 
the    time   of   the    French    poet's   visit,    and    compared 
with     whom,    according     to    local     estimation,    Seneca 
and    Euripides  were    mere    babbling    poetasters.     The  j 
Englishman — 

"...  a  nc'anmoins  l'audacc 
De  vanter  ses  rimailleurs  ; 
A  son  gout  ils  sont  meilleurs 
Que  Virgile  ni  qu'Horacc. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  OVATORZE  127 

Seneque  aupres  d'un  Jonson, 
Pour  la  force  et  pour  le  son, 
N'est  qu'un  poete  insipide, 
Et  le  fameux  Euripide 
N'a  ni  grace  ni  facon." 


see 


Saint-Amant  visited  the  different  theatres ;  the  acting 
med  to  him  in  harmony  with  the  plays,  the  climate, 

phe    food,    and     everything     the     country     produced. 

Actors  come  in  before  their   turn,  they  mistake   their 

^vords,    and    do    not    know    what    to    do    with    their 

lands  : — 

"  Ici  l'un  trop  tot  se  montre, 
Et  la,  l'autre,  rebondi, 
D'un  contre-temps  etourdi, 
Heurte  l'autre  qu'il  rencontre  ; 
L'un  disant  Goths  pour  Remains, 
Ou  les  dieux  pour  les  humains, 
Rougit  comme  une  ecrevisse, 
Et  l'autre  simple  et  novice 
Ne  sait  ou  mettre  ses  mains." 

What  do  they  play  ?  Interludes,  dumb  shows, 
nasks  with  dances.  They  represent  Andromeda, 
vlerlin,  Arthur  and  the  Round  Table.  In  their 
hterludes  they  dare — 


...  dessous  des  chiffons 
Jouer  la  pauvre  Andromede  ; 
Quelquefbis,  venus  des  cieux, 
Us  dansent,  droits  comme  pieux, 
Des  moralites  muettes, 
Ou,  de  sottes  pirouettes, 
Us  eblouissent  les  veux. 


128  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Tantot  Ton  revoit  au  monde, 

Faits  comme  des  bandoliers  (highwaymen), 

Artus  et  ses  chevaliers, 

Gloire  de  la  Table-Ronde  ; 

Tantot  l'antique  Merlin, 

Enfant  d'un  esprit  malin, 

Hurle  en  ombre  vaine  et  pale." 

As  for  serious  plays,  they  are  remarkable  for  their 
murders,  battles,  bloodshed,  and  also  for  the  crowds 
they  draw — a  moved,  distracted,  and  panting  crowd 
which  comes  to  the  theatre  and  forgets  shop,  stall,  and 
home,  and  wishes  the  play  would  last  two  hundred 
years — 

"  Tot  apres  le  tambour  sonne  ; 
Tout  retentit  de  clameurs. 
L'un  crie  en  saignant  :  Je  meurs  ! 
Et  si  l'on  n'occit  personnc. 
Les  feintes,  les  faux  combats 
Font  trembler  et  haut  ct  bas 
Le  cceur  du  sexe  imbecile, 
Oui  laisse  ceuvre  et  domicile 
Pour  jouir  de  ces  ebats. 

L'une  voyant  l'escarmouche, 
En  redoute  le  progres  ; 
L'autre  oyant  de  beaux  regrets, 
Pleure  s'essuye  et  se  mouche  ; 
L'autre   .   .   . 

Gabant  vainqueur  et  vaincu, 
Gruge  quelque  friandisc. 

Mere,  fillc,  tante  ct  niece, 
Bourgeois,  nobles,  artisans, 
Voudraient  que  de  deux  cents  ans 
Ne  s'achevat  unc  piece." 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  129 

Saint-Amant  composed  his  diatribe  in  London  the 
1 2th  of  February,  1644.  He  did  not  publish  it,  but 
it  gives  us  an  idea  of  the  way  in  which,  on  his 
return  to  Paris,  he  must  have  described  English 
manners,  literature,  and  drama  in  his  conversations 
with  his  lettered  friends.1 

The  guide-books  published  about  that  time  were 
scarcely  calculated  to  correct  these  impressions.  In  his 
"  Fidele  conducteur  pour  le  voyage  d'Angleterre," 
printed  in  Paris  in  1654,2  Coulon  warns  the  reader 
that  this  island  "  used  to  be  the  dwelling-place  of 
angels  and  saints,  and  is  now  the  hell  of  demons 
and  parricides.  But  for  all  that  its  nature  has  not 
changed  ;  it  is  still  in  its  place."  It  is  worth  the 
trouble  of  going  there,  O  traveller  !  "  Thou  wilt  be 
able  to  observe  the  remains  of  the  former  pietv  as  well 
as  the  commotions  and  disorders  produced  by  the 
brutality  of  a  nation  run  mad,  though  at  the  same  time 
stupid  and  northern."  A  description  follows,  written 
in  a  way  that  recalls  the  travels  "  dans  la  Tartarie  le 
Thibet  et  la  Chine,"  of  Father  Hue,  a  large  space 
beino-  devoted  to  the  wonders  which  abound  in 
such  remote  and  unknown  countries.  The  land 
called  "Buquhan"  in  Scotland  deserves  a  visit:  "No 
rat    comes    to    life    in    this     province,    and    if    one    is 

'"Albion,  caprice  heroi  -  comique  "  ;  "  (Euvres  Completes," 
ed.  Livet,   Paris,    1855,   2  vols.,    1 20,   vol.  ii. 

2  Still  less  useful  information  is  to  be  found  in  La  Boullave  le 
Gouz,  "  Voyages  et  observations,"  Paris,  1657,  _j.°.  He  joined  the 
Court  at  Oxford,  a  town  whose  name  means,  he  explained,  "  le 
fort  des  bceufs  "  (the  fortress  of  the  oxen),  p.  442,  and  went  to 
Ireland,  where  he  came  near  being  killed  by  the  inhabitants,  who 
took  him  for  an  Englishman. 

10 


130  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

brought  there  it  cannot  live.  .  .  .  Birds  also  are  found 
in  this  place  called  clayks,  whose  birth  is  wonderful  in 
this,  that  they  are  produced  by  trees  growing  by  the 
seashore.  They  grow  like  fruits,  and  they  fall  into 
the  sea  when  ripe,  so  that  branches  are  to  be  seen 
loaded  with  those  imperfect  produce,  some  of  which  have 
only  their  beak  and  head  grown  into  shape,  others  half 
their  body  finished,  while  some  others,  ready  to  swim 
or  fly,  hang  to  the  tree  only  by  a  little  thread,  and  the 
same  being  broken  they  swim  and  fly  like  ducks."  l 
Thus  everybody  in  the  Paris  of  1654  could  know  all 
about  the  clayks  or  ducks  which  grow  upon  trees,  but 
no  one  had  heard  of  that  other  produce  of  the  British 
Islands,  William  Shakespeare. 


IV. 

A  change  began  to  be  seen  shortly  after  the  Restora- 
tion. The  Civil  War  had  forced  many  English  writers 
to  make  prolonged  stays  in  France  ;  most  of  the 
Cavalier  poets  had  come  there  ;  such  men  as  Waller, 
Cowley,  and  Lovelace.  Sorbieres  had  formed  in  Paris  a 
friendship  with  the  famous  Hobbes,  and  that  friend- 
ship brought  about  a  journey  to  London,  of  which  we 
possess  the  curious  narrative.  Charles  II.  once  re-estab- 
lished on  the  throne  of  his  ancestors,  every  French- 
man of  distinction  who  came  as  an  exile  or  as  a  visitor 

1  On  the  search  instituted  for  those  fabulous  animals  by  ./Eneas 
Sylvius  Piccolomini  (Pius  II.)  while  in  Scotland,  see  "The  Romance 
of  a  King's  Life."  vEncas  Sylvius  was  informed  at  each  place  that 
they  were  to  be  seen  "  further  north  "  ;  he  could  never  go  north 
enough,  he  says,  to  find  them. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  QUATORZE  131 

was  certain  to  find  a  welcome  at  that  brilliant  and 
pleasure-loving  Court,  "  cette  cour  toute  jeune,  toute 
vive  et  toute  galante,"  where  Gramont  soon  went  to  set 
the  fashion.  Actors  and  actresses  came  in  numbers, 
and  were  particularly  well  received.1  No  less  well 
treated  were  Protestant  refugees  at  a  somewhat  later 
date.2  Journeys  to  England  became  more  frequent. 
The  impressions  brought  back  by  travellers  were 
pleasanter  ;  the  land  no  longer  seemed  so  very 
"  northern,"  nor  the  language  so  barbarous. 

That  literature  of  which  Saint-Amant  had  spoken  so 
disparagingly,  making  an  exception,  as  usual,  in  favour 
of  Bacon  alone,  began  to  arouse  a  certain  amount  of 
curiosity.  The  example  came  from  above  ;  it  was 
given  by  the  king  himself.  I  have  related  elsewhere 
the  anecdote  taken  from  the  papers  of  Cominges. 
Questioned  by  his  master  on  the  subject  of  English 
famous  men,    the  Ambassador    answered    that    he  had 

1  December  ic,  1661  ;  '"Warrant  to  pay  to  John  Chemnoveau, 
300/.,  as  the  King's  bounty  to  be  distributed  to  the  French 
comedians." — August  35,  1663  :  "Pass  for  the  French  comedians  to 
bring  over  their  scenes,  stage  decorations,  Sec."  "  Calendars  of  State 
Papers,  Domestic,  Charles  [I."  Bellerose  and  Pit^l  came  to  London, 
See  Chardon,  "La  Troupe  du  Roman  Comique,"  1876,  pp.  47,  98. 

2  Some  of  them,  such  as  Boyer,  born  at  Castres  in  1667,  or 
Motteux,  born  at  Rouen,  1660,  ended  their  days  in  England,  after 
having  learnt  English  so  well  that  most  of  their  works  are  in  that 
language,  and  that  they  count  among  English  rather  than  among 
French  authors.  Their  English  works  (poems,  essays,  dramas, 
newspaper  articles)  remained  practically  unknown  in  France  ; 
they  highly  deserved  the  qualification  bestowed  upon  Chaucer  bv 
Deschamps,  of  "grands  translateurs  "  ;  Boyer  translated  works  bv 
Racine  and  Fenelon  ;  Motteux  has  remained  almost  famous  as 
translator   of  Rabelais   and    Cervantes. 


132  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

a  short  tale  to  tell,  the  whole  literary  glory  of  the 
English  consisting  "  only  in  the  memory  of  Bacon, 
Morus,  and  Buchanan,"  and  for  more  recent  times 
in  the  works  "  of  one  Miltonius,  who  had  made  him- 
self more  infamous  by  his  dangerous  writings  than 
the  executioners  and  murderers  of  their  king  "  (1 663).1 
The  time  for  histories  of  English  Literature  in  five 
volumes  had  not  yet  come.  We  must  note,  however, 
this  new  curiosity  concerning  English  letters  which 
begins  now,  and  will  spread  more  and  more. 

The  desire  to  know  the  land  was  spreading  too  ;  the 
days  of  Cromwell  were  past  ;  England  was  now  subject 
to  a  singular  ruler  who  took  nothing  seriously,  and 
who,  though  head  of  a  nation  until  lately  so  morose, 
seemed  to  be  earnest  only  in  love  affairs  : — 

"  Votrc  prince  vous  dit  un  jour 
Ou'il  aimait  micux  un  trait  d'amour 
Ouc  quatrc  pages  de  louanges," 

wrote  La  Fontaine  to  Lady  Harvey.  And,  whereas 
Ronsard  had  dreamed  of  chimerical  journeys  to  South 
America  with  Villegagnon,  the  fabulist  lived  in  the 
hope,  no  less  chimerical,  of  accompanying  to  England 
that  beautiful  and  turbulent  Duchess  de  Bouillon  (one 
of  Mazarin's  nieces),  who  was  so  fond  of  animals  and 
had  a  weakness  for  their  poet,  but  who  hated  Racine 

1  "A  French  Ambassador,"  pp.  202,  223.  Costar,  in  his 
"  Memoires  des  gens  de  lettres  des  pays  ctrangcrs,"  names,  among 
the  poets,  only  one  Englishman,  Milton  ;  and  even  then  he  merely 
remarks  that  he  would  doubtless  have  done  better  to  class  him 
"  au  nombre  des  scavans."  "Continuation  des  Memoires  de  littera- 
ture  de  Salcngrc,"  by  le  P.  Desmolets,  1726,  vol.  ii.,  p.  353. 


THK    DUCHESS   OF   BOUILLON",    NIECE    OF    CARDINAL   MAZARIN,    FRIEND   OF  WALLER 

AND    I  A    FONTAINE.  [/.   133- 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  135 

and  much  preferred  Pradon.  Caesar  composed  four 
despatches  at  once  on  four  different  subjects,  wrote 
La  Fontaine  to  the  duchess  :  "  You  have  nothing  to 
envy  him  on  that  score  ;  and  I  remember  that  one 
morning,  while  reading  some  verses  to  you,  I  found 
you  at  the  same  time  attentive  to  my  reading  and  to 
three  quarrels  of  animals.  It  is  true  that  they  were 
on  the  verge  of  throttling  each  other  ;  Jupiter  the 
conciliator  could  not  have  pacified  them." 

The  duchess  has  gone,  she  receives  in  London  the 
visits  of  Saint-Evremond  and  Waller,  very  old  and 
broken  and  full  of  wrinkles  both  of  them,  but,  as 
poets,  "  the  youngest  of  all  those  around  the  spring 
of  Hippocrene." 

"  Anacreon  et  les  gens  de  sa  sorte, 
Comme  Waller,  Saint  Evremond  et  moi, 
Ne  se  feront  jamais  fermer  la  porte. 
Qui  n'admettrait  Anacreon  chez  soi  ? 
Qui  bannirait  Waller  et  La  Fontaine  ? 
Tous  deux  sont  vieux,  Saint  Evremond  aussi  ; 
Mais  verrez-vous  au  bord  de  1'Hippocrene 
Gens  moins  rides  en  leurs  vers  que  ccux-ci  ?" 

La  Fontaine  decidedly  wants  to  join  her  ;  as  pre- 
paration, "  I  shall  have  to  see  first  five  or  six 
Englishmen  and  as  many  Englishwomen  ;  they  sav 
Englishwomen  are  good  to  look  at."  He  proposes 
to  Saint-Evremond,  exiled  in  London,  and  very  much 
enamoured  of  the  no  less  beautiful  and  still  more 
turbulent  Duchess  Mazarin  (another  niece  of  the 
Cardinal's),  that  they  should  set  forth  together.  They 
will  make  themselves  "  Knights  of  the  Round  Table, 
as  beseems  people  travelling  in  the  country  where  that 


T36  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

chivalry  began."  They  will  go  in  quest  of  adven- 
tures ;  but,  adds  the  poet  sadly,  "  we  will  await  the 
return  of  the  leaves  and  of  my  health  ;  otherwise  I 
should  have  to  seek  adventures  in  a  litter  ;  I  should 
be  called  the  Knight  of  the  Rheumatism,  a  name 
scarcely  fit,  it  seems  to  me,  for  a  knight  errant."  J 
La  Fontaine  never  started  ;  even  in  his  youth  he 
had  only  liked  journeys  that  did  not  take  him  far 
from  home,  journeys  "  aux  rives  prochaines." 

But  if  he  stayed,  others  went.  Guide-books,  tales 
of  travel,  grammars  with  dialogues  multiplied,  making 
known  a  country  that  was  beginning  to  arouse  in- 
terest : — guide-books  and  travelling  impressions  by 
Sorbieres,  Le  Pays,  Payen,  Chappuzeau,  Muralt,  Misson, 
Beeverel  (an  Englishman),  G.  L.  Le  Sage,  Moreau 
de    Brasey,    and    several     others  ;  2     grammars,    voca- 

1  November,  December,  1687.  "CEuvres"  (Grands  Ecrivains), 
vol.  ix.  La  Fontaine  never  knew  Waller  personally  ;  he  writes  to 
M.  dc  Bonrepaus,  the  French  Ambassador,  on  the  31st  of  August, 
1687,  a  few  weeks  before  the  death  of  the  English  poet  :  "  J'ai  tant 
cntendu  dire  dc  bien  dc  M.  Waller  que  son  approbation  me 
comble  de  joie."  Waller  also  greatly  admired  Corneillc,  and  the 
latter  was  apprised  of  it  by  Saint-Evrcmond,  who  served  as  spokes- 
man for  the  men  of  letters  of  the  two  countries  :  "  M.  Waller,  un 
des  plus  beaux  esprit^  dc  cc  sicclc,  attend  toujours  vos  pieces 
nouvclles  et  ne  manque  pas  d'en  traduire  un  actc  oil  deux  en 
vers  anglais  pour  sa  satisfaction  particuliere."  Corneillc,  "CEuvres" 
(Grands  Ecrivains),  x.,  p.  499. 

2  "  Relation  d'un  voyage  en  Angleterre  oil  sont  touchecs 
plusieurs  choscs  qui  rcgardent  l'cstat  des  sciences  et  dc  la 
religion  et  autres  maticres  curieuses,"  by  Sorbieres,  Paris,  1664, 
8°.  (On  Sorbieres  and  his  journey,  sec  "English  Essays  from 
a  French  Pen,"  chap,  iv.) — "  Relation  d'un  voyage  d  Angle- 
terre," by  Le  Pays,  in  "Amine-/.,  amours  et  amourettes,"  new  ed., 
Paris,    1672,    12",    p.    172.-  "Les    voyages  de    M.    Payen,"    Paris, 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  137 

bularies,  dialogues  by  Mauger,  Festeau,  Miege,  Boyer. 
Even  Thomas  Corneille  could  not  forbear  giving  in  his 
great  "Dictionnaire  Universel "  particulars  on  the 
"  fauxbourg  qu'on  appelle  Sodoark,"  that  is  South- 
ward where  Shakespeare  had  been  seen  playing  in  his 
own  plays,  but  which  was  favoured  with  a  mention 
only  on  account  of  the  Bergiardin  (Bear  garden)  "a 
great  amphitheatre  where  there  are  fights  of  all  sorts  of 
animals,"  and  of  a  meadow  close  by,  "  in  which,  with 
his  spear,  St.  George  killed  the  dragon  that  desolated 
the  country."  l 

1666,  120. — "L'Europe  vivante  011  relation  .  .  .  de  tous  ses  Etats 
jusqu'a  l'annee  presente,  1667,"  by  Chappuzeau,  Geneva,  1667, 
40;  one  chapter  is  devoted  to  the  "lies  Britanniques "  ;  Chappu- 
zeau speaks  de  visit:  "  J'ai  ete  present  a  tout  ce  qui  suit"  ;  more 
details  in  "  Le  Theatre  Francois,"  by  the  same,  1674  (ed.  Monval, 
Paris,  1876). — "  Lettres  sur  les  Anglois  et  sur  les  Francois  et  sur 
les  voyages,"  by  Muralt  (written  in  1694-95),  Geneva,  1725,  8°; 
this,  together  with  Sorbieres'  journey,  is  the  most  important  of  these 
*  documents. — "  Voyages  du  Sieur  de  la  Motraye  "  (to  England, 
1697),  the  Hague,  1727,  3  vols,  fob,  vol.  i.,  ch.  viii. — "  Memoires 
et  observations  f'aites  par  un  voyageur  en  Angleterre,"  by  Misson, 
the  Hague,  1698,  1 20,  in  dictionary  form,  curious  engravings. 
— "Les  delices  de  la  Grand'  Bretagne,  par  James  Beeverel,  A.  M.," 
Leyden,  1707,  8  vols.  120,  "  le  tout  enrichi  de  tres  belles  gravures 
dessinees  sur  les  originaux." — "  Remarques  sur  l'Angleterre  faites 
par  un  voyageur  en  17 10  et  1711,"  par  G.  L.  Lesage  (a  Protestant 
refugee),  Amsterdam,  1715,  8°.--"  Remarques  sur  l'Angleterre 
faites  en  171 3,  par  M.  de  S.  G.,"  in  "  Recueil  de  pieces  serieuses," 
&c,  1721,  160. — "  Le  Guide  d'Angleterre,"  par  Moreau  de  Brasey, 
Amsterdam,  1744  (a  series  of  letters  dated  171  2-14). 

'"Dictionnaire  universel  geographique  et  historique,"  Paris, 
1708,  3  vols,  fob,  sub  verba  "  Londres."  In  the  article  "Stret- 
ford  "  (on  Avon)  no  mention  is  made  of  Shakespeare.  Bayle,  in  his 
"Dictionnaire  historique,"  1697,  devotes  an  article  to  Jodelle  and 
none  to  Shakespeare  ;  it  is  true  he  omits  also  Plato  and  Corneille. 


138  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Those  travellers,  now  more  numerous,  who  noted 
down  their  impressions,  no  longer  passed  such  uni- 
formly unfavourable  judgments  on  the  country  as  the 
Paradins  and  Perlins  of  old.  They  continued  having 
many  mishaps  and  surprises,  but  nevertheless  they 
mingled  some  praise  with  their  vituperations.  The 
appearance  of  the  country,  which  had  already  propitiated 
Perlin  (who  added  by  way  of  compensation  "  Bonne 
terre,  male  gent"  J),  elicits  raptures  from  Sorbieres.  He 
describes  with  admiration  "  its  little  hills  and  vales 
clothed  with  perpetual  verdure  .  .  .  and  those  lawns, 
some  of  which  are  so  smooth  that  one  can  play  at  bowls 
on  them  as  if  they  were  the  cloth  of  a  huge  billiard  table. 
.  .  .  The  country  is  so  covered  with  trees  that  even 
the  fields  look  like  a  forest  when  seen  from  a  height, 
owing  to  the  orchards  and  to  the  hedges  that  enclose 
the  arable  land  and  the  meadows."  Sorbieres  observes, 
too,  from  the  moment  he  lands,  a  very  characteristic 
peculiarity  :  all  the  houses  have  bay  windows,  thanks 
to  which  one  can  see  out  sideways,  "ce  qui  est  a  cote," 
whereas  in  France  "  we  see  from  ours  only  what  is 
before  us."  If  Sorbieres  had  known  English  and  read 
Shakespeare  he  might  have  observed  that  it  was  with 
the  stage  in  the  two  countries  somewhat  as  with  the 
houses.     The   author  of  "Hamlet"  required  windows 

1  This  unpleasant  proverb  was  well  known  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  the  English  applied  it  in  return  to  other  nations  : 
"Whereas  they  were  woont  to  saic  of  us  that  our  land  is  good  but 
our  people  cvill,  they  did  but  onlie  spcakc  it,  whereas  we  know  by 
experience  that  the  soile  of  Italy  is  a  noble  soile,  but  the  dwellers 
therein  farre  off  from  anie  vcrtue  or  goodncssc."  Harrison's  "De- 
scription of  Britainc,"  book  i.,  ed.  Furnivall,  3rd  part,  p.  132. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  139 

open  in  all  directions  ;  his  house  of  poetry  was  full  of 
bay  windows,  where  he  liked  to  sit,  and  whence  he 
could  see  not  only  what  was  in  front  of  him  but  also 
'•  what  was  aside." 

Strangers  are  greeted  rudely.  "  French  dog"  has  not 
gone  out  of  fashion,  quite  the  contrary.  At  the  landing, 
urchins  rush  forward  as  if  they  had  "  never  seen  a 
Frenchman,"  and  cry,  "  a  mounser,  a  mounser."  The 
Frenchmen  get  vexed,  the  urchins  get  excited,  a  crowd 
collects,  the  cry  of  "  French  dog  "  resounds,  dogs  bark, 
stones  are  thrown  ;  the  first  impression  is  certainly  a  bad 
one.  Travellers  must  arm  themselves  with  philosophy, 
and  try  to  see  the  good  side  of  things,  like  Muralt,  who, 
after  having  noted  the  use  of  "  French  dog,"  applied, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  to  "  all  sorts  of  foreigners  as  well  as 
to  the  French,"  adds,  "  I  have  no  doubt  that  many 
think  to  aggravate  the  title  of  dog  by  the  epithet  of 
French,"  but  the  French,  on  the  contrary,  are  so  proud 
of  being  French  that  thev  find  "  for  that  very  reason 
the  abuse  somewhat  atoned  for." 

The  women  still  keep  up  their  reputation  for  beauty, 
as  we  have  seen  bv  La  Fontaine's  remark.  All  travellers 
praise  them.  Le  Pays  finds  them  rather  cruel  :  "  Les 
belles  de  ce  pays  ici  sont  furieusement  cruelles  "  ;  not, 
he  adds,  that  thev  always  reduce  their  lovers  to  despair, 
but  they  have  a  marked  liking  for  horrible  sights.  Fair 
youths,  "  blondins,"  take  their  "blondines"  to  see 
gladiators  ;  young  women  in  England  "  like  blood  and 
carnage,"  and  are  in  a  great  measure  responsible  for  the 
massacres  that  take  place  in  English  tragedies.  Muralt, 
who  has  a  weakness  for  dark-haired  ladies,  is  of  opinion 
that  there  are  too  many  blondes  in  England,  and  that 


140  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

they  wear  too  many  patches.  Chappuzeau,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  in  ecstasies  over  them ;  and  Payen  finds  "  their 
carriage  extremely  advantageous." 

The  singularity  of  the  inhabitants'  character  strikes 
all  travellers  ;  their  mind  has  something  independent, 
rebellious  and  peculiar,  shown  in  everything  they  do. 
Their  parliament  is  a  strange  assembly,  "  un  corps 
bigearre,"  unlike  anything  known  ;  they  are  uncontrol- 
lable debaters  ;  even  the  common  people  discuss  public 
affairs,  and  have  an  opinion  on  the  king's  acts,  and  what 
an  opinion  !  "  Going  back,"  says  Sorbieres,  "  to  the 
remembrance  of  the  power  of  their  fleets  in  the  time 
of  Oliver,  to  the  glory  they  acquired  on  every  sea, 
to  the  alliances  that  the  whole  earth  sought  to  make 
with  them,  to  the  pomp  of  the  Republic  toward  which 
came  ambassadors  from  all  sides,  they  cannot  help 
making  odious  comparisons  and  showing  some  dis- 
position toward  new  disorders."  This  people  is,  in 
reality,  ever  on  the  verge  of  a  revolution  ;  no  other 
can  be  compared  to  it  for  the  quantity  of  kings  who 
have  died  a  violent  death.1  "  When  I  am  shown 
here,"  says  Le  Pays,  "  the  sad  spot  where  the  late 
king  had  his  head  cut  off,  I  give  vent  to  a  thousand 
imprecations  against  this  cursed  nation,  and  I  take 
great  pleasure  in  seeing  on  the  doors  and  the  towers  of 

1  A  copy  of  the  "  Nouvellc  Grammairc  Anglaise-Francaise  "  of 
Micge,  Rotterdam,  1728,  preserved  at  the  National  Library  of 
Paris,  contains  manuscript  notes  of  the  eighteenth  century,  on  the 
English  kings  who  have  died  a  violent  death  :  "Cruaute  naturel 
aux  Anglois  qui  est  sans  excmple  par  tout  lc  monde  qu'aux  Anglois 
scul  [«V]."  This  was,  in  fact,  a  current  aphorism  :  "  Cette  nation  est 
crucllc,"  says  Gui  Patin,  more  than  once,  "  Lcttres,"  Paris,  184.6, 
3  vols.,  iii.,  148,  287,  666. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  143 

London  so  many  criminal  heads,  arms,  and  thighs.  The 
head  of  Cromwell,  of  execrable  memory,  is  much  to 
my  liking,  placed  as  it  is  over  Westminster  Hall." 
Nevertheless,  "  the  throne  still  seems  a  little  shaky." 

They  do  anything  that  comes  into  their  minds  ;  they 
ignore  the  moderation  that  a  classical  education  teaches 
in  other  countries  ;  they  go  at  once  to  extremes.  If  a 
king  displeases  them  they  cut  off  his  head.  If  they  are 
bored,  they  hang  themselves.  All  this  "extravagance  of 
ideas,"  remarks  Sorbieres,  thus  proving  a  precursor  of 
Taine,  comes  from  the  soil,  "  leur  vient  du  terroir."  ' 
These  peculiar  dispositions  exert  an  influence  upon  their 
amusements  ;  no  doubt  they  have  some  pacific  ones, 
like  "  the  ringing  of  bells,  which  is  practised  in  no  other 
part   of  the  world,"  -  and   to  which   Bunyan   addicted 

1  The  same  ideas,  which  can  in  fact  be  traced  back  to  Aristotle, 
occur  in  Voltaire,  the  Abbe  Du  Bos,  and  others  :  k'  Pourquoi  toutes 
les  nations  sont  elles  si  differentes  entre  elles  .  .  .  quoiqu'elles  de- 
scendent  d'un  meme  pere  ?  Pourquoi  les  nouveaux  habitants  d'un 
meme  pays  deviennent-ils  semblables,  apres  quelques  generations,  ii 
ceux  qui  habitaient  ce  meme  pays  avant  eux  r  "  It  is  owing  to  the 
climate  and  to  the  "  pouvoir  de  l'air,"  according  to  Du  Bos  "  Re- 
flexions critiques  sur  la  Poesie,"  Paris,  1 7 19.  Voltaire  attributes  the 
different  forms  of  genius  in  part  to  the  way  in  which  countries  are 
governed,  but  more  especially  "  au  terrain  et  au  ciel"  of  each  land  : 
"  II  se  pourrait  bien  encore  que  le  gouvernement  d'Athenes,  en 
secondant  le  climat,  eut  mis  dans  la  tete  de  Demosthenes  quelque 
chose  que  l'air  de  Clamar  et  de  la  Grenouillere,  et  le  gouvernement 
du  Cardinal  de  Richelieu  ne  mirent  point  dans  la  tete  d'Omer 
Talon  ou  de  Jerome  Bignon."  ("  Dictionnaire  Philosophique," 
"Anciens  et   Modernes.") 

2  "  Nouvelle  Grammaire  angloise,  enrichie  de  dialogues  curieux, 
par  Paul  Festeau,  maistre  de  langues  a  Londres,"  London,  1672, 
8°,  p.  164.  Citizens  and  peasants  have,  besides  other  sports  and 
pastimes,  "lasonnerie  des  cloches  qui  est  une   recreation  que  Ton 


144  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

himself  with  that  almost  pagan  ardour  of  which  he 
bitterly  repented  later.  But  they  are  specially  fond  of 
combats  between  various  animals,  cocks,  dogs,  bears, 
which,  being  excited  for  the  purpose,  tear  each  other  to 
pieces,  and  they  are  so  brave  that  they  "  always  die  on 
the  spot."  They  also  have  combats  between  men, 
"  who  do  not  hesitate  sometimes  to  give  each  other 
terrible  blows  and  to  swallow  half  one  another's  cheek." 
Fair  and  rosy  ladies  flock  to  this  amusement,  in  which 
foreigners  see  "  something  very  ferocious  "  (Sorbieres). 
The  sight  diverts  English  women  ;  they  are  afraid  of 
nothing,  and  their  reputation  for  courage  is  so  well 
established  that  it  is  quite  surprising  if  one  of  them 
proves  an  exception  to  the  rule.  "  The  Comtesse  de 
Gramont,"  writes  Madame  de  Maintenon,  "  has  fallen, 
since  her  little  attack  of  apoplexy,  into  a  melancholy,  a 
fear  of  death,  and  continual  tears  ;  one  cannot  recog- 
nise that  superior  mind,  nor  that  English  courage  ;  all 
is  weak  in  her."  ' 

Other  exercises  are  less  dangerous,  such  as  horse- 
racing,  in  which  the  animals  run  "  so  fast  that  it  is  not 
conceivable"  (Beeverel),  or  football.  "  In  winter,  foot- 
ball is  a  charming  and  useful  exercise  ;  it  is  a  leather 
ball,  as  big  as  one's  head,  and  full  of  wind  ;  it  is  tossed 
with  the  foot  in  the  streets  by  whoever  can  catch  it  ; 
there  is  no  further  science,"  write  Misson,  who  sim- 
plifies somewhat  the  rules  of  the  game.  Muralt  finds 
that,  there  again,  the  people  lack  reserve  :   "  Sometimes 

nc  connoist  point  en  aucunc  autre  partic  du  monde."  "L'Estat 
present  de  l'Angleterre,  traduit  de  l'Anglois  d'Eduard  Chambcrlaync," 
Paris,  1671,  p.  89. 

'  To  the  Princesse  des  Ursins,  April  10,  1707. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  147 

they  divert  themselves  in  a  manner  both  inconvenient 
and  mingled  with  insolence,  as  when  they  kick  a  ball 
through  the  streets,  and  take  pleasure  in  breaking  the 
panes  in  houses  and  the  glass  in  coaches."  T 

The  inhabitants'  religion,  like  their  administration, 
has  something  "  bigearre  "  and  extravagant  about  it. 
Sects  are  innumerable  ;  the  most  curious  is  that  of  the 
Quakers — "  Coacres,"  as  Misson  calls  them.  Every 
traveller  goes  to  see  them,  and  is  never  at  a  loss  for 
details  concerning  the  singularities  "  the  spirit  "  dictates 
to  these  enthusiasts.  "  They  are  accused,"  writes  the 
Protestant,  G.  L.  Lesage,  "  of  believing  that  once 
the  spirit  is  formed  in  them  they  no  longer  sin,  what- 
ever they  may  do.  A  soldier,  it  is  said,  pursued  a 
Quakeress  with  his  solicitations  ;  wearied  at  last  bv  his 
importunities,  she  exclaimed,  '  Well,  since  thou  wantest 
to  lose  thy  soul,  lose  it.'  '  The  ordinary  clergy  are  a 
pleasure  to  behold,  with  their  air  of  prosperity  :  "  It  is 
agreeable,"  says  Muralt,  another  Protestant,  "  to  con- 
sider all  those  fat  and  rubicond  chaplains.  These 
gentlemen  are  accused  of  being  a  little  lazy,  and  this 
great  corpulency  makes  one  suspect  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  accusation." 

The  respect  for  religious  things  is  rare  ;  free-thinkers, 
"libertines,"  are  numerous,  says  G.  L.  Lesage;  "this 
comes,   in    great    measure,  from    the    fact   that   people 

1  Foreigners  were  unanimous  in  passing  judgments  of  this  sort  : 
"  Les  estrangers  jugent  que,  parmy  ces  jeux,  celuy  de  faire  cora- 
battre  les  coqs  est  trop  bas  et  indigne  de  la  noblesse  ;  le  combat  des 
ours  et  des  taureaux,  trop  cruel  pour  le  peuple  et  le  balon  de  pied 
trop  incivil,  rude  et  barbare  pour  les  bourgeois."  "  Estat  present 
de  l'Angleterre,  traduit  d'Eduard  Chamberlayne,"  Paris,  1671,  p.  89. 
Compare  above,  p.  I  3,  the  opinion  of  Grevin,  time  of  Elizabeth. 


T48  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

of  the  lowest  class  and  of  the  last  degree  of  ignorance 
are  free  to  talk  of  religion  and  ecclesiastics  in  a  scan- 
dalous manner.  Walking  one  day  with  one  of  my 
friends  in  the  fields  behind  Montagu  House,"  now  the 
British  Museum,  "  as  far  as  a  new  quarter,  where  a 
chapel  was  being  built  which  bears  the  name  of  St. 
George,  we  approached  a  carpenter,  who  was  working, 
after  the  manner  of  his  country,  with  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth.  Having  asked  him  what  they  were  proposing 
to  make  ...  he  replied  coolly,  without  looking  at  us, 
'  A  priest-shop  '  "  ("  Une  boutique  de  prttre  "). 

The  coffee-houses,  taverns,  and  theatres  count  among 
the  curiosities  of  London.  There  were  coffee-houses  in 
Paris,  but  they  were  far  from  having  at  that  date  the 
importance  of  the  English  ones.  Noblemen,  artisans, 
men  of  letters,  clergymen,  every  Londoner  went  to  the 
coffee-house.  Les  "  coquets  ridicules  "  went  too  :  "  In 
English,"  says  Misson,  "  those  fellows  are  called  fops 
and  beaux.  The  theatres,  chocolate  houses,  and  the 
promenade  of  the  park  swarm  with  them.  They  run 
after  every  new  fashion  ;  periwigs  and  coats  covered 
with  powder,  as  millers  are  with  flour  ;  faces  besmirched 
with  tobacco,  degingande  airs,  the  gait  and  appearance 
of  true  Mascarii/es,  lacking  only  the  title  of  marquis  " 
(Moliere's  marquesses  and  Mascarilles). 

In  the  coffee-houses  people  talk,  quarrel,  prepare 
the  fall  or  triumph  of  plays,  actresses,  or  ministers, 
drink  tea,  chocolate,  "  a  stomachic  drink,"  or  coffee, 
a  curious  liquor  that  has  "  the  real  taste  of  a  burnt 
crust,"   price,  one    sou.1       In    short,  the    "  northern  " 

1  Dialogues  by  Micge  in  "  Nouvclle  facile  Methode  pour  ap- 
prendre  l'anglois,"  new  cd.,  Amsterdam,  1698,  pp.  294,  295. 


FRENCH   OFFICERS   SMOKING   THEIR   PIPES   IN"   A    "  TABAGIE," 

TIME   OF    LOUIS  XIII.  [/>.  I49. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  151 

country  has  humanised  itself ;  one  can  find  people  there 
to  talk  to,  joke  with,  and  "flirt"  with,  "a  qui  confer 
fleurette."  Certain  travellers  having  realised  the  ex- 
pedition dreamed  of  by  La  Fontaine,  come  back 
enchanted,  although  they  have  not  discovered,  in  the 
land  of  King  x\rthur,  now  the  land  of  the  "  bon  roi 
Stuart,"  as  many  giants  to  conquer  and  damsels  to 
defend  as  romances  had  led  them  to  expect.  "  We 
have  not  yet  found  a  single  barrier  defended,"  writes 
Pavilion,  "  not  the  least  little  giant  to  fight,  and,  ex- 
cepting for  a  few  damsels  on  palfreys  that  one  meets 
with  occasionally,  I  should  never  have  thought  myself 
in  the  kingdom  of  Great  Britain,  so  entirely  have  things 
changed  here  since  the  reign  of  King  xArthur.  One  no 
longer  hears  of  damsels  carried  away  forcibly  :  whether 
it  be  that  love's  laws  are  better  obeyed,  or  that  ladies 
do  not  accompany  their  resistance  with  such  loud 
clamours  as  of  old  ...  I  know  not.  .  .  .  What- 
ever the  reason,  no  one  complains,  and  I  find  the 
women  of  to-day  a  thousand  times  more  civil  than 
those  bawlers  of  bygone  days  who  yelled  like  mad  and 
drew  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  universe  knight 
errants  to  avenge  their  injuries  on  people  who  very 
often  had  done  them  more  honour  than  they  deserved." 
Contrarily  to  what  Saint-Amant  thought,  people  eat, 
drink,  laugh,  "  and  the  late  land  of  plenty  of  very  happy 
memory  (le  dtfunt  pays  de  Cocagne  de  tres  heureuse 
memoire)  was  worth  scarcely  more  than  this  one." 
Everything  abounds  there,  and  if  vou  do  not  live  in 
France  you  cannot  do  better  than  go  and  settle  in 
England — 


153  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

"Enfin  dans  ce  pays  on  voit  que  tout  abonde, 
Et  sans  exagerer,  pour  tout  dire  a  la  fois, 
Quiconque  a  le  malheur  de  n'etre  pas  Francois 
Est  ici  beaucoup  mieux  qu'en  aucun  lieu  du  monde."  J 

London  with  its  streets,  shops,  and  booksellers,  its 
famous  Mr.  Hobbes,  its  "  savants,"  Royal  Society, 
monuments,  and  walks  ;  Oxford  with  its  colleges  ;  the 
country  with  its  castles  and  verdure  ;  2  the  ports  with 
their  infinity  of  ships,  are  all  described  by  turns  in 
numerous  books,  and  sometimes  represented  in  en- 
gravings. A  place  is  given  to  literature,  but  a  very 
small  one  as  yet.  Chappuzeau,  who  knows  more  about 
it  than  Cominges,  quotes  half  a  dozen  names,  amongst 
which  dramatic  art  is  represented  by  Davenant  alone  : 
"  the  Chevalier  Davenant  whom  dramatic  poety  has 
made  famous." 

The  language  is  rich  but  shapeless  ;  it  has  neither 
rules  nor  limits  :  a  great  defect,  say  travellers  ;  a  great 
advantage,  reply  the  English.  "  The  English  tongue," 
writes  Beeverel,  "  has  not  the  delicacy  of  the  French, 
but  whereas  Frenchmen  are  servilely  attached  to  an 
Academy  which  subjects  them  to  its  rules  in  such  wise 

T  M.  Pavilion  to  Madame  de  Pelissary,  time  of  Charles  II.,  in 
the  "  Melanges "  annexed  to  the  "  CEuvres  melees "  of  Saint- 
Evremond,  London,  1708,  vol.  vi.  p.  91. 

2  So  pleasant  to  behold  that  English  Le  Notres  dare  not  modify 
nature,  and  they  willingly  allow  trees  to  grow  as  they  please. 
English  parks,  says  Pavilion,  "  sont  faits  comme  il  plait  a  Dieu,  qui 
en  sait  bien  plus  que  Monsieur  Le  Notre  "  (cf.  below,  p.  409). 
Hills,   woods,   and  meadows  arc   most  beautifully  green — 

"  Tout  vous  enchante  ct  l'art  humain, 
Respcctant  dc  si  beaux  ouvrages 
N'ose  pas  y  mettre  la  main." — {Ibid.) 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  153 

that  they  scarcely  dare  risk  a  new  word  even  when 
they  need  it  .  .  .  Englishmen,  on  the  contrary,  carry 
their  liberty  even  into  their  language  "  ;  a  phenomenon 
so  strange  and  so  notorious  that  the  rumour  of  it  had 
reached  Fenelon,  who  speaks  of  it  by  hearsay  in  his 
"  Lettre  a  1' Academic"  l 

The  English  let  their  language  grow  as  it  likes,  and 
never  in  their  conversations  discuss  the  choice  of  a 
word  or  the  elegance  of  a  term  ;  the  French,  on  the 
contrary,  ever  preoccupied  with  these  problems,-  are 
greatly  astonished  at  finding  such  indifference  in 
London.  G.  L.  Lesage  notes  the  fact  as  one  of  the 
curiosities  of  the  country  :  "  Rarely  does  the  con- 
versation turn  upon  the  appropriateness  of  a  word, 
or  upon  the  correctness  of  an  expression."  In  France 
each  new  edition  of  the  Dictionary  was,  and  has  con- 
tinued to  be,  the  occasion  of  endless  discussions.  The 
first  edition  gave  rise  to  a  number  of  books,  pamphlets, 
comments,  and  epigrams.  "Jesuis,"  the  long-expected 
lexicon,  was  supposed  to  say  : — 

"  Jc  suis  ce  gros  dictionnairc, 
Qui  fus  un  demi-siecle  au  ventre  de  ma  mere  ; 


1  Fenelon,  who  had  an  innovating  turn  or  mind,  ventures  to 
approve  this  liberty  :  "J'entends  dire  que  les  Anglois  ne  se  refu- 
sent  aucun  des  mots  qui  leur  sont  commodes  :  ils  les  prennent 
partout  oil  ils  les  trouvent  chez  leurs  voisins.  De  telles  usurpations 
sont  permises."     1  7 1 4- 

2  They  have  not  altered  in  this  respect.  We  read  in  the  Temps 
(April  6,  1898):  "Nous  sommes  un  peuple  de  grammairiens  et 
de  puristes.  Sitot  que,  dans  un  journal,  on  propose  au  public  une 
question  de  langue,  d'orthographe  ou  de  prononciation,  les  lettrcs 
abondent,  et  la  discussion,  si  Ton  n'y  prend  garde,  ne  tarde  pas 
a  s'echauffer."      (Sganarelle-Sarcey),  on  the  term  "  coupe  sombre." 


154  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Quand  je  naquis  j'avois  de  la  barbe  et  des  dents, 
Ce  qu'on  ne  doit  trouver  fort  extraordinaire, 
Attendu  que  j'avois  l'age  de  cinquante  ans."  T 

On  the  subject  of  theatres,  all  travellers  are  of  the 
same  opinion  ;  they  are  struck  by  the  beauty  and  com- 
fort of  the  edifices,  and  the  richness  of  the  costumes  ; 
but  revolted  by  the  incoherency,  the  licence,  and  the 
ferocity  of  the  plays.  There  are  three  excellent  troupes 
in  London,  says  Chappuzeau,  without  speaking  of  the 
country  troupes  :  "  I  must  add  that  the  three  London 
houses  are  furnished  with  very  well-shaped  actors,  and 
particularly  with  handsome  women,  that  these  theatres 
are  superb  as  regards  stage  scenery  and  scene  shiftings, 
that  the  music  is  excellent  .  .  .  that  they  have  no  less 
than  twelve  fiddles  each  for  the  preludes  and  entr'actes" 
— they  had  only  six  in  Paris — "  that  it  would  be  a 
crime  to  use  anything  but  wax  to  light  the  stage,  or  to 
fill  the  chandeliers  in  such  a  manner  as  to  offend  the 
spectators'  nostrils."  They  play  every  day,  the  three 
theatres  are  always  crowded,  and  "  a  hundred  coaches 
ever  choke  the  surrounding  streets." 

Chappuzeau,  it  is  true,  was  by  nature  an  optimist  : 
"  Everything  in  this  world  goes  from  good   to  better," 

1  "L'Apotheose  du  Dictionnaire  dc  l'Academie,"  La  Hayc,  1696. 
Great  exception  is  taken  at  the  want  of  those  "  Rcmarques  "  which 
had  long  been  expected,  and  without  which  the  Dictionary  was 
finally  issued.  Fenelon  insisted  later  upon  the  usefulness  of  such 
"  Rcmarques,"  and  Matthew  Prior  confirmed  him  in  that  opinion. 
Sec  below,  p.  181.  Among  the  pamphlets  relating  to  the  Dictionary, 
see,  e.g.,  besides  Furetierc's  "Factums,"  "  Rcponsc  a  une  critique 
satiriquc,"  by  C.  Mallcment  dc  Messangc  ;  "  L'Enterremcnt  du 
Dictionnaire  de  rAcadcmie  "  (a  reply  to  the  "  Rcponsc  "),  1 697,  I  z°. 


J  D-  Dr  £'.  Jr.^n  tL-iin.isl*.  '         "  "  A*M    /Vu^-jc   du   Cry? 

A   MAX   OF   QUALITY   OX   THE   STAGE'   AT   THEMDPERA.    1687. 

U-  155- 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  157 

he  remarked  with  conviction.  This  happy  generalisation 
was  inspired  to  him  by  the  fact  of  the  lemonade  girl, 
at  the  French  Comedy,  having  replaced  by  raspberry 
and  cherry-water  the  "  simple  ptisane  "  of  yore.  But 
his  testimony  is  confirmed  by  other  travellers  :  Sorbieres 
and  Misson  are  no  less  positive  :  "  The  stage  is  quite 
free,  with  many  changes  of  scenery  and  perspectives  "  ; 
very  different  from  Paris,  where  noblemen  continued 
to  encumber  the  stage  at  Moliere's  and  Racine's  plays 
as  well  as  at  the  opera,  hampering  the  movements  of 
the  actors,  preventing  any  illusion,  considering  them- 
selves as  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  performance, 
talking  aloud,  and  taking,  if  so  disposed,  the  liberty  of 
bringing  their  dog  to  see  the  play:  "  Row  at  the  play," 
writes  the  lieutenant  of  police,  Rene  d'Argenson,  in  his 
Notes  ;  "  the  day  before  yesterday  there  was  a  stir  at 
the  play  on  account  of  a  Danish  dog  that  M.  le  Marquis 
de  Livry,  the  son,  had  brought  there.  The  dog  began 
to  go  through  his  tricks  and  to  show  his  agility  in  a 
hundred  different  ways.  The  gentlemen  of  the  pit 
made  every  sort  of  hunting  sound  that  they  could 
bethink  themselves  of  in  order  to  cheer  and  encourage 
him."  I 

Another  advantage  :  in  London  the  spectators  in 
the  pit  are  seated,  whereas  in  Paris  they  stand,  which 
facilitates  confusion.  "  The  pit  in  London,"  says 
Misson,  "  is  disposed  like  an  amphitheatre  (in  Paris  it 
was  square)  and  filled  with  benches  without  backs  and 
covered  in  green  stuff.  Men  of  quality,  particularly 
young  men,  a  few  honest  and   respectable   ladies,  and 

1  "Notes  de  Rene  d'Argenson,"  ed.  Larchey  and  Mabille,  Paris, 
1866,  p.  41,  January,  170 1. 


158  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

many  wenches  seeking  their  fortune,  sit  there  pell-mell, 
talking,  playing,  jesting,  listening  or  not  listening. 
Further  off,  against  the  wall  and  opposite  the  stage, 
rises  another  amphitheatre  occupied  by  people  of  the 
highest  degree,  among  whom  there  are  few  men.  The 
galleries,  of  which  there  is  but  a  double  row,  are  filled 
only  with  ordinary  people,  particularly  the  upper  one."  l 

The  costumes  are  splendid  ;  "  they  have  magnificent 
clothes "  ;  but,  on  that  score,  Paris  can  easily  bear 
comparison,  for  at  the  French  Comedy  a  "  mere  dress 
a  la  romaine  will  often  go  up  to  five  hundred  crowns," 
writes  Chappuzeau.  There  is  the  same  splendour,  and 
also  the  same  indifference  to  historic  accuracy  in  the 
two  countries.  In  London,  observes  Muralt,  "  the 
heroes  of  antiquity  are  costumed  as  they  are  in  France  ; 
Hannibal  appears  with  a  long  powdered  wig  under  his 
helmet,  ribbons  upon  his  coat  of  mail,  and  holding  his 
sword  with  a  fringed  glove." 

Resemblances  cease  there  ;  the  plays  are  as  different 
as  can  be  ;  the  two  dramatic  arts  are  now  in  direct  and 
absolute  opposition.  The  chief  point  in  Paris  is  to  be 
decent,  regular,  logical,  to  open  on  real  life  windows 
which,  like   the    windows  in   the  houses,  show  what  is 

'  "  Memoires  ct  observations,"  1698,  p.  63.  Sorbiercs'  descrip- 
tion is  nearly  the  same  :  "  Lcs  mcillcurcs  places  sont  celles  du 
parterre  nil  les  homines  et  les  femmes  sont  assis  pele-melc,  chacun 
avec  ceux  de  sa  bande.  Le  theatre  est  fort  beau,  couvert  d'un 
tapis  vert.  .  .  .  Les  actcurs  et  les  actrices  y  sont  admiralties  a  cc 
que  Ton  m'a  dit  ct  mesme  a  cc  que  j'en  peux  comprendrc  au  geste  ct 
a  la  prononciation,"  p.  166.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  com- 
prehension of  Italian  comedies  in  Paris  was  made  easier  by  the 
abundant  gesticulations  of  the  comedians,  who  were,  in  fact,  de- 
scribed  as   "  gestucux." 


rERIOR   OF  THE    FRENCH   COMEDY.   WITH    THE   STANDING   PIT   AND   GENTLEMEN 
OX    THE    STAGE.      TIME    OF    MOLIERE.  [/>.    !  5Q. 


THE  TIME  OF  WITS  QUATORZE  161 

straight  before  us,  "  ce  qui  est  au  droit  devant  nous." 
The  chief  point  in  London,  at  that  date,  is  to  be  licen- 
tious, undisciplined,  astonishing  ;  the  Restoration 
honours  Wycherley  and  Drvden  ;  tolerates  Shake- 
speare, but  Shakespeare  altered,  with  dances  inserted  in 
"  Macbeth  "  ;  despises  Racine,  adapts  Moliere  and 
French  dramatists  English  fashion,  adding  rodomon- 
tades to  the  part  of  Titus  in  Racine's  "  Berenice  "  :— 

"  Henceforth  all  thoughts  of  pity  I'll  disown, 
And  with  mv  arms  the  Universe  ore-run, 
Rob'd  of  mv  Love,  through  ruins  purchase  tame, 
And  make  the  worlds  as  wretched  as  I  am."  ' 

Titus  becomes  another  Almanzor  ;  Alceste  the 
"  Misanthrope  "  undergoes  as  complete  a  transfor- 
mation, and  is  turned  into  a  swearing,  smoking, 
debauched  and  nauseous  Jack  Tar,  "  that  smells  like 
Thames  Street  "  (Wvcherlev's  "  Plain  Dealer  "). 

One  solitary  French  critic,  Saint-Evremond  the  exile, 
attempted  at  that  time  to  compare,  with  some  care, 
the  two  theatres  ;  only  he  did  not  know  English,  and 
judged  of  things  by  hearsay.  As  a  man  of  letters, 
he  belonged  to  the  distant  days  of  the  regency  ot 
Anne  of  Austria,  the  davs  when  he  was  young  ;  he 
had    consequently  a    weakness    for  the    independents.-" 

1  "  Titus  and  Berenice  .  .  .  with  a  farce  called  the  Cheats  of 
Scapin,"  by  Otway,  London,  i6__,  8°. 

2  "II  taut  aimer  la  regie,"  he  savs,  "pour  eviter  la  contusion, 
il  taut  aimer  le  bon  sens  qui  modere  l'ardeur  d'unc  imagination 
allumee  ;  mais  il  taut  oter  a  la  regie  toute  contrainte  qui  gene,  et 
bannir  une  raison  scrupuleuse  qui,  par  un  trop  grand  attachement 
i  la  justesse,  ne  laisse  rien  de  libre  et  de  naturel."  "  De  la  Comcdie 
Angloise." 

12 


1 62  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

He  was  therefore  less  scandalized  than  others  had 
been  at  the  sight  of  the  English  stage.  English 
comedy  pleases  him  more  than  tragedy  ;  it  is  conform- 
able, he  thinks,  to  the  comedy  of  the  ancients,  "  as  far 
as  manners  are  concerned."  He  has  never  heard  of 
Shakespeare,  it  seems,  but  he  knows  Jonson  well, 
he  regards  him  as  the  head  of  the  English  drama,  and 
does  him  the  unexpected  and  incredible  honour  of 
imitating  one  of  his  plays.  "  As  M.  de  Saint-Evre- 
mond,"  writes  his  biographer,  Des  Maizeaux,  "  did  not 
understand  English,  these  gentlemen  (the  Duke  of 
Buckingham  and  M.  d'Aubigny)  explained  to  him  the 
best  things  composed  by  the  poets  of  that  nation.  .  .  . 
These  readings  furnished  him  with  the  observations  he 
has  made  on  English  comedies  in  some  of  his  works. 
It  was  also  that  kind  of  study  which  gave  these  gentle- 
men the  opportunity  of  working  together  at  the  comedy 
of  '  Sir  Politick  Wouldbe.'  Each  supplied  part  of  the 
characters,  and  M.  de  Saint-Evremond  put  them  into 
shape." 

As  for  tragedies,  Saint-Evremond  is  aware  that  the 
English  have  "some  old  tragedies  "  (in  a  note  :  "  like 
Ben  Jonson's  '  Catiline  '  and  'Sejanus  '  "),  "  from  which 
many  things  ought  in  truth  to  be  omitted,  but  that 
being  done  they  might  be  made  very  fine."  People 
murder  each  other  a  little  too  much  in  those  plays,  but 
if  they  massacred  each  other  less,  no  one  in  London 
would  go  to  see  them  :  "  Eyes  eager  for  cruel  sights 
want  to  see  murders  and  bloody  corpses.  .  .  .  Death  is 
so  little  to  the  English,  that  to  move  them  pictures 
must  be  shown  more  baleful  than  death  itself."  Shake- 
speare is  nowhere  mentioned. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  163 

Appreciations  of  the  same  sort,  but  less  studied, 
are  to  be  found  in  Sorbieres,  Chappuzeau,  Misson, 
Muralt,  and  others.  Sorbieres,  who  knew  no  more 
English  than  Saint-Evremond,  does  not  think  that 
English  dramas  would  have  much  success  in  France, 
because  they  are  not  according  to  rule.  The  English 
"  write  comedies  that  last  twenty-five  years  "  ;  they 
are  insensible  to  the  charms  of  alexandrines  ;  their 
plays  "are  in  a  measured  prose  (blank  verse)  which 
resembles  ordinary  speech  more  than  our  verses,  and 
which  is  not  without  some  melody.  They  cannot 
conceive  that  it  should  not  be  a  wearisome  thing  to 
have  the  same  cadence  strike  the  ear  continually,  and 
they  say  that  to  hear  people  talk  in  alexandrine  verse 
for  two  or  three  hours  and  see  them  skip  from  caesura 
to  cassura  is  a  way  of  expressing  oneself  not  very 
natural  or  diverting."  Be  that  as  it  mav,  Sorbieres 
resolved  to  show  his  friends  what  English  plays  were 
like  :  "I  have  brought  a  volume  of  them,"  he  wrote, 
and  he  counted  upon  that  volume  to  show  that  "  wit 
good  sense,  and  eloquence  are  to  be  found  everywhere." 
The  volume  brought  back  by  Sorbieres  contained 
neither  Shakespeare  nor  Jonson,  but  it  did  contain  the 
works  of  the  Marchioness,  afterwards  Duchess  of  New- 
castle,1 and  it  was  by  reading  these  pale  productions,  in 
which  are  unfolded  the  adventures  of  "  Ladv  Sans- 
parelle  "  and  "  Lord  de  l'Amour,"  that  the  traveller's 
friends  were  allowed  to  glean  some  idea  of  a  stage  for 

1  It  was  the  volume  modestly  entitled  :  "  Playes  written  by  the 
j  thrice  noble,  illustrious,  and  excellent  princess,  the  Lady  Marchioness 
iof  Newcastle,"  London,  1662,  fol.  ;  the  plays  being  preceded  bv 
jtwo  dedicaces,  a  prologue,  and  eleven  epistles  to  the  reader. 


1 64  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

which,  unknown  to  them,  William  Shakespeare  had  also 
written. 

They  make  one  "  laugh  and  cry  "  in  the  same  play, 
"  which  cannot  be  suffered  in  France,"  wrote  Le  Pays 
on  his  side.  To  end  a  tragedy,  they  stab  four  or  five 
personages  ;  this  sight  never  fails  to  amuse.  Le  Pays, 
who  had  a  grudge  against  "  blondines,"  affirms  that  they 
"  clap  their  hands  and  burst  out  laughing  at  that 
moment."  Chappuzeau  assisted  "  at  the  death  of 
'  Montezuma,  King  of  Mexico,'1  and  at  the  death  of 
'  Mustapha,' 2  who  defended  himself  vigorously  against 
the  mutes  who  wanted  to  strangle  him,  which  elicited 
laughter  "  ;  this  constitutes,  continues  our  incorrigible 
optimist,  a  comedy  "  not  so  regular  as  ours,"  but 
which  "has  nevertheless  its  peculiar  charms." 

Only  two  of  these  travellers  mention  Shakespeare  : 
Muralt,  who  greatly  prefers  Jonson,  and  contents  him- 
self with  the  casual  remark  :  "  England  is  a  land  of 
passions  and  catastrophes,  so  much  so  that  Schakspear, 
one  of  their  best  ancient  poets,  has  turned  a  great  part 

1  In  the  famous  "Indian  Emperor,  or  the  Conquest  of  Mexico," 
bv  Drydcn.  It  was  translated  into  French  in  1743,  and  men  of 
taste  read  with  astonishment  a  play  beginning  thus  :  "Dans  quel 
heurcux  climat  la  fortune  nous  a-t-elle  conduits  ?  ct  pourquoi  faut- 
il  que  l'ignorance  nous  ait  cache  pendant  tant  de  siecles  ces  bords 
enchantes  r  Nc  dirait-on  pas  que  notre  ancien  monde  s'c'tait  retire 
par  pudeur  pour  en  enfanter  1111  autre  en  secret  ?  " 

2  By  Roger  Boyle,  Earl  of  Orrery,  performed  with  success  at 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  in  1665,  and  printed  in  1677.  It  was  acted 
at  Court  in  1  666  :  "  1  was  invited  by  my  Lord  Chamberlaine  to 
see  this  tragedy,  exceedingly  well  written,  though  in  my  mind  I 
did  not  approve  of  any  such  pastime  in  a  season  of  such  judgments 
and  calamities"  (an  allusion  to  the  Fire  and  Plague).  Evelyn's 
Diary,  October  1  S,  1666.     See  above,  p.  \6,  note  2. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  QUATORZE  165 

of  their  history  into  tragedies "  ;  and  Moreau  de 
Brasey,  who  also  praises  his  historical  dramas,  and  does 
it  in  these  terms  :  "  One  Shakespear  (un  certain  Shake- 
spear),  who  lived  in  the  last  century,  has  left  the 
reputation  of  a  master  owing  to  his  excellent  historical 
plays,  and  M.  Addison  has  perfected  this  taste  in  his 
admirable  '  Cato.'  "  ' 

V. 

The  "  certain  Shakespear  "  and  the  "  nomme  Mil- 
tonius "  were  still  very  far,  as  we  may  see,  from 
exciting  enthusiasm.  Things  appertaining  to  England 
were,  nevertheless,  becoming  more  familiar  ;  the  history 
of  the  country  was  beginning  to  arouse  interest,  and 
was  related  in  French  by  Vane!,  Rosemond,  Larrey, 
and  several  others.2     It  was  one  more  opportunity  for 

1  "  Si  les  Anglois  pouvoiem  se  resoudre  a  v  etre  plus  simples  (in 
tragedies)  et  a  etudier  davantage  le  langage  de  la  nature,  ils  excel- 
leroient  sans  doute  dans  le  tragique  par  dessus  tous  les  peuples  de 
l'Europe.  L'Angleterre  est  un  pais  de  passions  et  de  catastrophes, 
jusques  la  que  Schakspear,  un  de  leurs  meilleurs  anciens  poetes  a 
mis  une  grande  partie  de  leur  histoire  en  tragedies."  Muralt, 
"Lettres  sur  les  Anglois,"  1725,  8°,  p.  57  (written  about  thirtv 
years  before).  "  II  n'y  a  point  de  nation  qui  represente  l'histoire 
plus  naturellement,  plus  au  vif  ni  plus  conformement  a  la  verite 
que  les  Anglois.  Ils  ont  represente  fort  noblement  la  plupart  des 
evenements  de  leur  proprc  histoire.  Un  certain  Shakespear  qui 
vivoit  dans  le  siecle  dernier  a  laisse  une  fondation  de  maitre  pour 
cela  dans  ses  excellentes  pieces  de  theatre,  et  Monsieur  Addison 
a  perfectionne  ce  gout  dans  son  admirable  Cato."  "  Le  Guide 
d'Angleterre,"  by  Moreau  de  Brasev,  Amsterdam,  1744,  p.  161 
(written  171  2-14). 

2  "  Abrege  nouveau  de  l'Histoire  generale  d'Angleterre,"  bv 
Vanel  (who  follows  principally  Gregorio  Leti),  Paris,  1689,  4  vols., 
12°. — "Histoire  des  guerres  civiles  de  l'Angleterre,"  by  Rosemond, 


[66  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

describing  the  kingdom,  its  inhabitants  of  both  sexes, 
Parliament,  the  English  drama  in  which  may  be  noticed 
a  great  many  "  criminal  intrigues,"  and  the  religious 
sects  "  so  extravagant  that  one  is  horrified  to  see  how 
far  they  carry  their  abomination."  T  Works  of  that 
kind  excited  curiosity  because  they  referred  to  the 
country  "  which  has  ever  been  the  theatre  of  the 
strangest  revolutions  in  Europe."  2 

Translations  become  less  rare  ;  the  "  Histoire  de 
l'etat  present  de  l'Empire  Ottoman,"  translated  from 
the  English  of  Sir  P.  Rycaut,3  falls  into  Racine's  hands, 
and  he  seeks  information  in  it  for  his  "  Bajazet "  ;  Bur- 
net's "History  of  the  Reformation,"  put  into  French 
by  Rosemond,  is  read  by  Madame  de  Sevigne.  Bacon, 
Temple,    Sir    Thomas    Browne,    Stillingfleet,    Locke,4 

Amsterdam,  1690,  12°. — "Introduction  a  l'Histoirc  d'Anglctcrrc, 
par  lc  Chevalier  Temple,  enrichie  de  portraits  ;  traduite  de 
l'anglois,"  Amsterdam,  1695,  120. — "  Histoire  d'Angleterre,  d'Ecossc 
et  d  Irlande,"  by  de  Larrey,  Rotterdam,  1  697,  ff.,  4  vols.  fol.  ;  a 
Protestant  refugee,  he  declares  that  he  is  "sans  pai's  natal,  sans 
liaisons,  sans  attachemens,  sans  crainte  et  sans  csperance,  sans  haine 
ct  sans  amour."  The  great  history,  long  considered  as  a  standard 
one,  by  Rapin  Thoyras,  came  out  at  the  Hague  from  1724  onwards, 
1  3  vols.,  40. 

'  Vanel,  vol.  i.  ;  Larrey,  vol.  i.,  "  Dissertation  stir  les  Parle- 
ments." 

2  "  Abrege  de  l'Histoirc  d'Angleterre  ccrite  sur  les  Memoires  des 
plus  fideles  autheurs  anglois,"  La  Hayc,  1695,  12°.  The  author 
(forgetting  Vanel)  pretends  that  his  history  "est  l'uniquc  qui  a 
encore  parti  dans   notre  langue." 

3  By  Pierre  Briot,  Paris,  1670,  4".  "Bajazet"  is  of  1672; 
Racine  had,  moreover,  gathered  information  from  ambassadors 
to  Turkey. 

4  By  Lc  Clerc,  "(Euvres  diverses  de  M.Jean  Locke,"  Rotter- 
dam, 1710,  12°. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  QUATORZE  167 

Clarendon,  Shaftesbury,  &c,  are  translated  ;  Addison 
also,  a  little  later,  and  his  "Spectator"  has  an  immense 
success  in  France  ;  '  Jeremy  Collier's  "  Short  View  ot 
the  Immorality  and  Profaneness  of  the  English  Stage  " 
is  put  into  French  in  1715.2 

As  the  seventeenth  century  draws  to  its  close,  French 
literary  periodicals,  published  by  Catholics  at  Trevoux 
or  Paris,  and  by  Protestants  in  the  Hague  or  Amsterdam, 
open  their  pages  to  English  works  ;  eves  are  no  longer 
turned  only  toward  Spain  and  Italv.  The  "  Journal 
des  Savants,"  aided  by  its  dragoman,  has  set  the  example, 
and  publishes,  from  1666,  a  review  of  works  (chiefly 
scientific)  which  have  come  out  in  England,  from  the 
"  Natural  and  Political  Observations  made  upon  the 
Bills  of  Mortality,"  by  John  Graunt,  to  the  "  Discours 
sur  le  grand  cordial  du  Sr  Walter  Rawleigh,"  a  cordial 
composed  "  of  everything  that  there  is  most  excellent 
in  other  cordials,"  and  of  which  the  principal  ingre- 
dients are  viper's  flesh,  bezoar,  hart's  horn,  magisteries 
of  pearl  and  coral  .  .  .  prepared  gold,"  &c.  Mention 
of  purely  literary  works  is  only  made  later  on. 

Several  other  periodicals  devoted  to  French  and 
foreign  works  are  founded  before  the  end  of  the  century, 
or  shortly  after. 3     Some  place  is  given  to  the  English 

'   "  Le  Spectateur  ou  lc  Socrate  moderne,"  Amsterdam,  i"i+,  rf. 

3  "La  Critique  du  Theatre  Anglois,"  Paris,  171 5,  12°. 

3  "Journal  des  Scavans,"  Paris,  1665,  fF.  4°,  "Table  generale," 
Paris,  1753. — "  Nouvelles  de  la  Republique  des  Lettres,?' Amster- 
dam, 1684-17 1 8,  56  vols,  (by  Bayle,  Laroque,  Le  Clerc,  „v 
"  Memoires  pour  servir  a  l'histoire  des  sciences  et  des  beaux- 
arts"  (i.e.,  "Journal  de  Trevoux "),  Trevoux  and  Paris,  i~oi-6_, 
813   vols.,  "Tables,"  by   Father   Sommervogel,  Paris,  1864.  ^  vols., 


[68  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

in  these  reviews  ;  but  conformably  with  the  old  tradi- 
tions, contributors  busy  themselves  especially  with 
theologians,  "  savants,"  and  thinkers — Tillotson,  Locke, 
Boyle,  Shaftesbury,  Toland.  Grave  and  serious  works 
are  discussed  ;  if  the  drama  is  brought  into  question 
it  is  on  account  of  some  book  like  that  of  Jeremy 
Collier,  who  considers  the  drama  from  a  theologian's 
point  of  view.  Basnage  thus  gives,  in  1698,  an 
account  of  Collier's  work,  published  in  the  same  year; 
but  he  chiefly  dwells  upon  the  "  profaneness  "  of  the 
English  stage  :  "  At  the  end  of  a  play  called  the 
'  Mock  Astrologer  '  [by  Dryden]  a  troop  of  demons 
appear  ;  one  of  them  sneezes,  and  thereupon  they 
civilly  say  to  him,  God  bless  you,  and  add  the 
ironical  compliment  that  he  has  taken  cold  because 
he  is   not  used   to  be  so  long  away  from  the  fire."  ' 

Nothing  is  more  uncommon,  before  1700,  than  an 
English  play  translated  or  adapted  into  French. 
Otway's  "  Venice  Preserved  "  was  adapted,  but  La 
Eosse,  the  author  of  this  attempt,  terrified  at  his  own 
audacity  would  never  run  the  risk  of  having  modern 
names  heard  on  the  stage  ;  he  transported  the  subject 
into  ancient  times,  turned  the  action  into  narratives, 
dressed  Otway's  Venetians  as  Romans,  and  made  of  his 

16". — "  Bibliothcquc  universelle  ct  historique,"  Amsterdam,  1686, 
ff.  12°,  by  Lc  Clcrc. — "  Bibliothcquc  choisic  pour  scrvir  dc  suite  a 
la  Bibliothcquc  universelle,"  Amsterdam,  1703,  ft'.,  by  the  same. — 
"  CEuvrcs  des  Savans,"  by  Basnage,  Rotterdam,  1695,  ff. — "Journal 
Litterairc"  (of  the  Hague),  17  13,  ff,  by  S'Grav'esandc,  Van  Effen, 
Sallcngrc,  &c.  Several  others  arc  pointed  out  by  Hatin,  "  Biblio- 
graphic historique  de  la  Presse  periodique  Francaisc,"  Paris,  1886, 
X",  p.  28,  "  Presse  Litterairc." 
1   May,   1698. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  169 

tragedy  a  "  Manlius  Capitolinus,"  1698.1  The  example 
of  Campistron,  moreover,  was  there  to  restrain  him, 
Campistron,  whom  the  Academy  was  soon  to  receive,  and 
who,  desirous  of  producing  on  the  stage  "  the  tragic 
adventure  of  Don  Carlos,  eldest  son  ot  Philip  the 
Second  King  of  Spain,"  had  with  great  decorum  trans- 
ferred this  story  to  antique  times,  and  drawn  from  it 
the  plot  of  his  "Andronic,"  1685.  An  English 
comedy  was  translated  at  the  same  period  ;  not  "  Much 
Ado,"  but,  as  though  out  of  defiance,  one  of  Yanbrugh's 
most  licentious  plays,  "  The  Provoked  Wife,"  2  a  play 
fit  to  make  even  the  criticisms  of  Jeremy  Collier  seem 
indulgent,  and  to  fill  with  disgust  the  dignified  con- 
noisseurs of  Louis  Quatorze's  day. 

The  English  "  think  profoundly,"  La  Fontaine  had 
said  ;  they  are  strong  in  experience,  "  forts  d'ex- 
perience."  It  was  especially  their  thinkers  who  attrac- 
ted attention  ;  they  were  admired,  quarrelled  with, 
written  to,  translated  even  ;  and  this  preference  was  so 
marked  that  Abel  Boyer,  that  French  Protestant  who  had 


1  The  play  met  with  great  success,  precisely  on  account  of  its 
regularity:  "La  beaute  du  sujet,  la  sagesse  dont  il  est  traite,  sa 
regularite,  sa  conduite,  les  sentiments  hero'iques  qui  v  sont  repan- 
dus,  tout"concourt  a  la  gloire  de  l'auteur."  Freres  Parfaict,  "  Hist, 
du  Theatre  Francois,"  Amsterdam,  1735,  &•*  vo'-  x'v-'  P-  ^9-  La 
Fosse,  in  his  preface,  quotes  as  his  sources  Titus  Livius  and  Saint- 
Real,  but  says  nothing  "  des  obligations  qu'il  avait  a  M.  Otwai, 
poete  anglois  "  {ibid). 

2  "La  temme  poussee  a  bout,  comedie  traduite  de  la  piece  ang- 
Ioise  intitulee  :  The  provokd  wife,"  London,  1  "00,  12".  Coarse 
actions,  coarse  sentiments,  and  coarse  words  fill  the  play,  which 
was  translated,  evidently  with  the  help  of  interpreters  by  that 
belated  independent,  Saint-Evremond. 


170  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

taken  refuge  in  London,  and  was  so  well  versed  in 
the  two  literatures,  observed  as  late  as  1 7 1 3  :  "Most 
foreigners  are  unaware  of  the  genius  and  taste  of  the 
English  for  poetry."  l 

What,  then,  was  the  fate  of  Shakespeare  in  France  ? 
Did  he  still  remain  completely  unknown  at  the  close 
of  Louis  XIV. 's  reign,  at  a  time  when,  in  England, 
it  has  been  possible  to  form  two  large  volumes 
of  the  English  praise  and  criticism  dedicated  to  him 
before  that  date  ? 2  For  we  must  not  forget  that 
Muralt's  letters,  written  in  1694-95,  came  out  only 
thirty  years  later,  in  1725,  and  that  Moreau  de 
Brasey's,  written  in    1 7 12,  came  out  in    1744. 

Silently  and  unobserved  the  great  man  has  crossed  the 
Channel.  Already  he  is  in  the  heart  of  the  capital  ;  a 
copy  of  his  works  figures,  next  to  those  of  Racine  and 
Corneille,  in  the  library  of  the  "  Roi-Soleil  "  himself. 
We  know  it  because  the  copy,  which  the  Paris  National 
Library  still  possesses,  was  included  by  Nicolas  Clement, 
Royal  Librarian,  in  his  first  methodical  catalogue  of 
books,  commenced  in  1675,  and  finished  in  1684.  The 
original  slip,  which  I  discovered  some  years  ago,3  con- 

'  Preface  to  his  translation  of  "  Caton,  tragedic  par  M.  Addison," 
London,  "  chez  Jacob  Tonson,  a  la  tete  de  Shakespeare,  dans  la  rue 
nominee  lc  Strand,"  171  3  ;  with  a  frontispiece  representing  a  peri- 
wigged Cato,  dying  at  Versailles,  as  it  would  seem,  in  the  arms  oi 
high-heeled  Louis  XIV.  and  of  Madame  de  Maintenon.  On 
Boyer,  1 667-1 729,  editor  of  the  "  Post  Boy  "  and  other  periodicals, 
and  a  most  prolific  writer,  see  above,  p.  131. 

2  Ingleby,  "  Shakespearcs  Centurie  of  Prayse,"  ed.  L.  Toulmin 
Smith,  1879  ;  F.  J.  Furnivall,  "Some  300  fresh  allusions  to  Shak- 
sperc,"  1886  (New  Shakspere  Society). 

!   "  Revue  Critique,"   November  14,   1887. 


THE    DEATH    OF   CATO. 

A  plate  by  Du  Guernier  illustrating  the  translation  of  Addison's 
"  Cato,"  1713.  'p.  171. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUS  OCATORZE  173 

tains,  besides  the  title  of  the  work,  an  appreciation  on 
the  author's  genius  ;  some  enlightenment  on  a  man 
so  little  known  having  been  deemed  indispensable. 
Clement's  note  reads  thus  : — 

"  Will.  Shakespeare, 
"  Poeta  anglicus. 

"  Opera  poetica,  continentia  tragoedias,  comcedias  et 
historiolas.     Angle,  Lond.,  Th.  Cotes,  1632,  f  . 

"  Easdem  Tragcedia?  et  comcedias  anglica?.  Lond., 
W.     Leake,  1641,  4".1 

"  Ce  poete  anglois  a  l'imagination  asses  belle,  il  pense 
naturellement,  il  s'exprime  avec  finesse  ;  mais  ces  belles 
qualitez  sont  obscurcies  par  les  ordures  qu'il  mele  dans 
ses  Comedies." 

Such  is  the  oldest  appreciation  on  Shakespeare  in  the 
French  language  ;  it  does  not  breathe  great  enthusiasm : 
the  poet  has  a  rather  fine  imagination,  he  thinks 
naturally,  he  expresses  himself  skilfully  ;  but  these 
fine  qualities  are  obscured  by  the  filth  he  intro- 
duces into  his  comedies.  Nevertheless,  here  is  at  last 
a  written  opinion  on  Shakespeare,  and  here  is  a  librarv 
where  the  master's  works  are  to  be  found. 

Vv  e  might  quote  a  second  one,  but  not  a  third  :  that 
singular  man,  equally  fond  of  gathering  riches  and  of 
squandering  them,  the  surintendant  Fouquet,  an 
intrepid    collector    of    books,    possessed    what    was    at 

1  This  second  volume  does  not  in  reality  contain  Shakespeare's 
works,  but  various  plays  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  Louis 
XIV.'s  copy,  as  will  be  seen  from  its  date,  was  not  the  first, 
but  the  second   "  folio." 


174  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

that  time  a  very  unusual  number  of  English  works. 
Most  of  them  were,  it  is  true,  preserved  "  in  his 
garret "  ;  but  among  them  figured,  besides  many 
volumes  of  history,  besides  the  dictionaries  of  Spelman 
and  Cotgrave,  a  quantity  of  dramatic  works.  We  read 
in  the  inventory,  drawn  up  after  his  fall,  "  Inventaire, 
prisee  et  estimation  des  livres  trouves  a  Saint-Mande 
appartenant  ci-devant  a  M.  Fouquet,"  '  articles  like 
the  following  :— 

"  Histori  of  houssc  of  Douglas,  fol.     ...  ...  iod. 

14  volumes  en  anglois  d'histoire        ...  ...  30I. 

DefFensio  regia  Miltoni,  folio  164     ...  ...  3I. 

Divers  volumes  de  comedies  en  anglois  ...  3I. 
Comedies  de  Jazon  (Ben    Jonson)  en  anglois, 

2  voll.,  London,  1640       ...           ...  ...  3I. 

Id.,  comedies  angloises          ...          ...  ...  iod. 

Shakespeares  comedies  angloises        ...  ...  il. 

Fletcher  commedies  angloises,  London,  1647  il." 

The  modest  price,  one  franc,  assigned  by  the  experts 
to  Shakespeare's  works  (a  copy  maybe  of  the  first  folio, 
now  worth  ^600)  will  be  noticed.  Such  as  it  was,  and 
garret  or  no,  Fouquet's  library  was  exceptional.  Even 
among  the  richest,  for  instance,  in  that  of  Raphael  Trichet 
du  Fresne,  librarian  to  Queen  Christine,  the  only  Eng- 
lish books  were  works  of  history,  philosophy,  or  science.2 

1  Preserved  in  MS.  at  the  National  Librarv,  MS.  Fr.  9,438 
(July,    1665). 

2  "  Catalogus  librorum  bibliothecae  Raphaelis  Tricheti  du 
Fresne,"  Paris,  1662,  4°.  We  find  therein  :  "Britannia,  the 
histori,  London,  16 14. — The  Survey  of  London,  London,  1633, 
fol.— Chronicles  of  the  Kings  of  England,  London,  1643,  fol.," 
&c.      But    no   purely   literary   works. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OL'ATORZE  175 

In    most    cases    English    letters   were    not    represented 
at  all.1 

Many  more  years  must  pass  before  a  printed  appre- 
ciation on  Shakespeare  can  be  found  in  France.  The 
first  time  the  dramatist  was  mentioned  in  a  French  book 
his  name  figured  without  any  comment  among  the 
celebrated  authors  of  his  country,  and  the  fact  attracted 
so  little  attention  that  long  afterwards  lists  continued 
to  appear  in  which  "  Cassibelane,  who  twice  repulsed 
the  Roman  legions,"  and  Jonson,  "  equal  to  any  of  the 
ancients  for  the  exactness  of  his  pen  "2  were  included, 
but  in  which  the  author  of  "  Hamlet  "  was  omitted. 
It  was  long  thought  that  the  earliest  printed  mention 


1  M.  Rathery  quotes,  as  an  example,  the  "Catalogue  de  Bilaine, 
libraire  fort  en  vogue,  Paris,  1681,  1 20."  There  is  a  series 
entitled,  "Libri  in  Anglia  impressi  "  ;  they  are  all  in  Latin.  In 
the  "Bibliotheca  Colbertina,  seu  Catalogus  Librorum,"  Sec,  Paris, 
1728,  3  vols.  120,  there  are  numerous  Spanish,  Italian,  and  Portu- 
guese works  ;  a  very  few  English  ones,  mostly  historical  or  philoso- 
phical. English  literature  proper  is  represented  by  "  Castara  en 
anglois,  Londres,  1640,  8°  ;  Les  pas  ou  demarches  du  Temple,  en 
anglois,  par  Richard  Crashaw,  Londres,  1648  ;  Les  Delices  des 
Muses  par  le  meme,    1648,  8°." 

2  Guy  Miege,  "  The  new  state  of  England  under  their  Majesties 
King  William  and  Queen  Mary,"  2nd  ed.,  London,  1694,  120. 
The  work  was  periodical,  and  had  a  French  edition  ;  the  "Journal 
des  Savants"  gives  an  account  of  it  in  1706,  and  reproduces  the 
list  of  great  men  that  Miege  had  "  tiree  de  la  cosmographie  de 
Heylin,"  that  is  :  "  Cosmography  containing  the  historie  of  the 
whole  world,"  1st  ed.,  1652,  fol.  In  this,  at  the  time  of  its 
publication,  very  popular  work  (the  fifth  edition  of  which  was 
issued  in  1677),  Heylin  gives  a  list  of  ten  English  poets,  Gower, 
Lydgate,  Chaucer,  Sidney,  Spenser,  Daniel,  Drayton,  Beaumont, 
Fletcher,  and  "  my  friend  Ben  Jonson,  equal  to  any,"  &c.  (as  in 
Miege).      Shakespeare  is  not  mentioned  (ed.  of  1666,  p.  ^04). 


176  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

was  to  be  found  in  the  translation  of  Collier's  "  Short 
View,1'  "La  critique  du  theatre  Anglois,"  171 5, 
(where  his  name  is  printed  Chacsper).  M.  Texte  has 
recently  shown,  however,  that  Shakespeare  was  men- 
tioned in  the  "  'JEuvres  melees  "  of  Sir  W.  Temple, 
published  in  French  at  Utrecht,  1693.1  But  at  least 
one  book  came  before  these,  since  the  name  of  Shake- 
speare figures  in  the  "  Jugements  des  Savants "  of 
Baillet,  the  enemy  of  Menage,  printed  at  Paris  in 
1685-86.  In  the  second  volume  of  that  work,  an  article 
is  devoted  to  English  poets,  and  the  author  writes  : 
"  If  we  end  with  the  English  it  is  only  to  follow  the 
order  of  geographers  who  mention  the  islands  after 
the  Continent,  for  one  cannot  say  that  this  country  is 
inferior,  even  for  poetry,  to  several  ot  the  northern 
nations.  The  principal  poets  of  the  British  Islands  in 
the  vulgar  tongue,  according  to  the  above  quoted 
authorities,  are  Abraham  Cowley,  John  Downe  or  Jean 
Donne,  Cleveland,  Edmund  Waller,  John  Denham, 
George  Herbert,  Chancellor  Bacon,  Shakespeare, 
Fletcher,  Beaumont,  Suckling,  John  Milton,  &c." 2 
It  will  be  noticed  that  the  list,  such  as  it  is,  contains 
more  names  than  Addison  thought  fit  to  include  in  his 
"Account  of  the  greatest  English  poets,"  as  Shakespeare 
does  not  figure  among  those  "greatest  English  poets." 
We  have,  at  all  events,  the  name  printed  for  the  first 
time  in  France.  The  earliest  printed  appreciations  are 
even  more  concise  than  Nicolas  Clement's  ;  the 
dramatist  is  evidently    only    spoken    of    from    hearsay. 

1   "Revue  d'Histoirc  Litterairc  de  la  France,"  vol.  i.,  p.  46^. 
-   Racine  possessed  a  copy  of  Baillet's  compilation.     J.  Bonnefon, 
"  Revue  d'Histoirc  Litterairc  de  la  France,"  April  15,  1S9S,  p.  187. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOUIS  OUATORZE  177 

In  the  "  Dialogues  fami Hers  "  included  in  his  grammar,1 
Boyer  makes  an  English  speaker  say  (in  French)  :  "We 
have  a  Pindar  and  a  Horace  in  Cowley  and  in  Oldham  ; 
a  Terence  in  Ben  Jonson  ;  a  Sophocles  and  a  Euripides 
in  Shakespeare  ;  a  Homer  and  a  Virgil  in  Milton  ;  and 
nearly  all  the  poets  together  in  Dryden  alone."  2  Boyer 
was  evidently  of  the  same  way  of  thinking  as  the 
Englishman  who  owned  the  copy  of  the  first  folio 
edition  of  Shakespeare,  now  preserved  at  the  Paris 
National  Library,  and  who  wrote  opposite  the  title 
of  the  "  Tempest,"  in  the  list  of  plays,  this  apprecia- 
tion worthy  of  Mr.  Pepys  :  "  Better  in  Dryden." 
Boyer  stuck  to  this  opinion,  for  he  repeats  it  in  the 
preface  to  his  "  Dictionnaire,"  where  there  isa-pompous 
eulogy  of  the  "  greatest  poet  that  England  has  ever 
had,"  to  wit,  Dryden. 3  The  "  Journal  des  Savants  " 
had,  on  the  other  hand,  devoted  a  line  to  Shakespeare 
in  1708,  and  had  declared  that  he  was  "the  most 
famous  of  English  poets  for  tragedy." 

1  Querard  quotes  an  edition  of  this  grammar  of  1700  ;  it  is 
neither  at  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  the  British  Museum,  nor  the 
Bodleian.  I  have  followed  the  Amsterdam  edition  of  171 8  : 
"  Nouvelle  double  Grammaire  "  (by  Miege  and  Boyer). 

2  "  Nous  avons  un  Pindare  et  un  Horace  en  Cowly  et  en  Oldham, 
un  Terence  en  Ben  Johnson  ;  un  Sophocle  et  un  Euripide  en 
Shakespear  ;  un  Homere  et  un  Yirgile  en  Milton  et  presque  tous 
ces  poetes  ensemble  en  Dryden  seul  "  (p.  368). 

3  "Dictionnaire  Royal  Francois  et  Anglois,"  1702.  The  British 
Museum  (whose  collection  is  not  complete)  possesses  41  editions  of 
this  dictionary  ;  the  sale  of  it  augmented  prodigiously  during  the 
days  of  Anglomania  in  France.  Boyer  was  helped,  while  com- 
piling his  dictionary,  by  his  friend  Savage  :  "  Mon  ami  M.  Savage, 
gentilhomme  anglois,  d'esprit  et  de  merite,  qui  a  eu  la  bonte 
d'augmenter  mes  recueils  de  plus  de  mille  mots." 


178  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

Such  is,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  passages  in  the 
"Spectator"  translated  in  1714,1  all  that  I  have  been 
able  to  discover  for  a  whole  reign  and  a  whole  century  : 
two  or  three  brief  and  vague  appreciations,  the  most 
important  of  which  remains  hidden  among  the  slips  pre- 
pared for  the  catalogue  of  the  "  Bibliotheque  Royale  "  ; 
the  name  of  Shakespeare  printed  by  chance  in  two  or 
three  books  where  no  one  notices  it  ;   nothing  more. 

French  dramatic  art,  meanwhile,  after  the  incom- 
parable period  it  owed  to  Corneille,  Racine,  and 
Moliere,  and  which  had  just  ended  with  "  Athalie " 
( 1 69 1)  was  hastening  to  its  decline.  Filled  with 
admiration  for  those  great  men,  their  successors 
imagined  they  could  divine  their  secrets  ;  they  studied 
them  attentively  and  composed  tragedies,  as  dishes  are 
prepared,  from  the  right  recipe.  The  important  thing 
for  them  was  the  formula  ;  they  were  intractable  in 
the  matter  of  rules,  going  even  beyond  their  masters, 
blaming  the  excess  of  independence  that  they  detected 
in  the  Greek  authors  themselves,  and  never  suspecting 
how  little  credit  they  deserved  for  restraining  the 
starts  and  moderating  the  bounds  of  their  own  genius. 
Their  docile  Pegasus  asked  nothing  better,  alas,  than 
to  bow  his  head  and  follow  the  well-worn  road  ;  no 
danger  was  there  that  he  would  spring  from  the 
ground  and  lose  himself  in  the  blue  sky  ;  a  sound 
of  monotonous   alexandrines,   a  tinkling   of  bells,   was 

'  The  first  time  the  name  appears,  the  translator  adds  this 
comment  :  "  II  a  ccrit  des  tragedies  dont  la  plupart  des  scenes  sont 
admirables.  Mais  il  n'est  pas  tout  a  fait  exact  dans  ses  plans  ni 
dans  la  justesse  dc  la  composition,"  vol.  i.,  p.  84.  The  "pas  tout  a 
fait"  shows  that  the  translator  had  not  examined  them  very  closely. 


THE  TIME  OF  LOCIS  QUATORZE  179 

sufficient  sign  that  the  author,  well  seated  on  his 
pacific  steed,  would  not  leave  the  straight  path.  Let 
us  sleep  in  peace  ;  we  shall  find  everything  in  order 
on  awakening.  The  convenances  will  have  been 
harmed  by  no  one,  and  the  modesty  of  rules  will  not 
have  received  the  slightest  affront.  The  "  Yenices 
preserved"  are  turned  into  "  Manliuses,"  and  the 
adventures  of  Don  Carlos  into  "  Andronics  "  :  this 
surpasses  the  "  delicatesse  "  of  the  Greeks  them- 
selves.1 "I  have  given  my  heroine,"  writes  Bruevs, 
in  1699,  "the  name  of  Gabinia,  which  I  have  taken 
from  her  father's,  because  it  seemed  to  me  that  that  of 
Susanna,  which  the  historv  of  our  holv  martvrs  gives 
her,  was  too  lacking  in  nobleness  for  the  stage." 2 
Let   us  sleep  in  peace. 

A  change,  however,  is  preparing,  and  it  will  be  great 
with  consequences  for  French  literature.  Travellers, 
more  and  more  illustrious,  come  to  visit  England  ; 
thev  observe,  thev  compare,  thev  note  their  impres- 
sions, to  good  purpose.  Thev  are  called  Abbe  Prevost, 
Montesquieu,  and  Voltaire;  in  i~^4  the  latter  will 
publish  his  famous  "  Lettres  philosophiques  ou  Lettres 
sur  les  Anglais." 

1  On  which  the  abbe  Du  Bos  again  congratulates  Campistron  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  "Reflexions  critiques,"  Pari-,  1  "-4-6.  vol  i., 
p.  149  (first  edition,  1  _  1 9). 

2  "Gabinie,  tragedie  chritienne,"  performed  ror  the  first  time 
April  2nd,  1699  (imitated  from  a  Latin  tragedv  bv  A.  jourdain, 
entitled  "  Susanna  "). 


CHAPTER   III 

THE     EIGHTEENTH     CENTURY 

Part  I. — 1715-1750 

I. 

SOME  men  have  the  gift,  whatever  they  say,  of 
being  listened  to ;  whatever  they  write,  of  being  read. 
They  may  repeat  word  for  word  what  has  been 
already  expressed,  no  matter  ;  when  others  spoke  no 
one  paid  any  attention  ;  now  that  they  open  their  lips 
every  one  is  all  ears.  Their  voice  is  clearer  ;  it  seems 
as  though  their  ink  were  blacker.  This  precious  gift 
was  at  all  times  Voltaire's  ;  he  possessed  it  from  his 
vouth  and   retained  it  till   his  death. 

In  1734  he  published  the  French  edition  of  his 
"  Lettres  philosophiques  ou  Lettres  sur  les  Anglais." 
Nearly  all  the  subjects  they  treat  of  had  been  treated 
before,  and  had  remained  unknown.  He  spoke,  and 
it  was  as  if  he  had  just  discovered  them.  After  him, 
England  was  no  longer  "  terra  incognita  "  ;  people 
knew  where  they  were  going  when  they  crossed  the 
Channel. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  181 

Various  efforts  had  indeed  preceded  his  own.  The 
change,  begun  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
had  become  much  more  marked  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  eighteenth.  A  poet  represented  England 
at  Paris  :  the  same  thing  had  been  seen  before  ;  but 
unlike  Wyatt  and  Sackville,  Matthew — Erior  found 
people  to  talk  to,  and  he  was  frequently  questioned 
on  the  language  and  literature  of  the  two  countries..1 

A  public  was  forming  who  took  interest  in  these*'' 
matters,  a  much  more  numerous  public  than  the  little 
group  of  curious  inquirers  of  former  days.  Essays  on 
England  were  becoming  abundant  ;  periodicals  in  which 
a  place  was  accorded  to  her  literary  and  scientific  men 
multiplied.  English  literary  works  did  not  always  receive 
enthusiastic  praise,  but  they  were  no  longer  ignored.  The 
"Journal  des  Savants"  busies  itself  with  Swift's  "Tale 
of  a  Tub,"  and  pronounces  it  "  insipid  and  coarse  "  ;  it 
moreover  declares  writings  of  that  kind  to  be  "impious, 
because  they  tend  to  nothing  less  than  establishing  the 
toleration  of  all  religions,"  which  should  not  be  thought 
of  ( 1 72  1  ).2  The  reviewer  gives  an  account  of  "  Robinson 
Crusoe,"  and  wonders  very  much  whether  it  is  a  true 

1  "  M.  Prior,  Anglois,  dont  l'esprit  et  les  lumieres  sunt  connus 
de  tout  lc  mondc,  .  .  .  rn'a  parle  cent  fois  de  Putilite  du  travail 
que  je  propose,"  i.e.,  the  remarks  to  be  added  to  the  "Diction- 
naire  de  1'xA.cademie."  Fenelon,  "  Memoire  sur  les  occupations 
de  l'Academie,"  171 3.  Prior  wrote  French  very  well,  as  can  be 
seen  by  a  number  of  his  letters  (unpublished)  preserved  in  the 
archives  of  the  "Affaires   Etrangeres." 

2  Cf.  W.  Wotton's  opinion  :  "  'Tis  all  with  him  a  farce,  all  a 
ladle"  ;  it  shows  the  author's  "contemptible  opinion  of  everything 
which  is  called  Christianity."  "A  Defence  .  .  .  with  observations 
upon  the  'Tale  of  a  Tub,'"  1705,  8°. 


i 8j  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

story.  He  has  doubts,  although  he  points  out  "  some 
semblance  of  truth  that  the  author  has  tried  to  make 
interesting  by  the  help  of  novelty"  (1720).  A  rubric 
is  opened  in  the  same  paper  for  London  literary  news, 
and  thus  readers  learn,  for  instance,  in  the  course  of 
the  year  17 10,  that  "the  sieur  Tonson,  bookseller  of 
that  town,  begins  to  sell  the  new  edition  of  the  works 
of  Shakees  Pear  .  .  .  M.  Rowe  has  revised  and 
corrected  it." 

At  length  appears  the  unexpected  phenomenon  of  a 
periodica]  in  French  expressly  designed  to  give  an 
account  of  English  books,  the  which,  although  very 
interesting,  "  are  scarcely  known  outside  the  island  "  ; 
it  was  called  the  "  Bibliotheque  ou  histoire  litteraire  de 
la  Grande  Bretagne,"  and  was  founded  by  De  LaJRoche 
in  1717.1      La  Roche  gives  his  readers  information  on" 

1  And  continued  by  La  Chapelle,  who  gives  as  his  address,  "The 
Rev.  Armand  de  La  Chapelle  in  White  Row,  Spittlefields,  London"  ; 
but  the  review  was  printed  and  issued  in  Amsterdam  ;  the  preface 
is  dated  London,  November  13,  17  16.  The  "Bibliotheque  Britan- 
niquc"  was  founded  at  the  Hague  in  1733  in  imitation  of  the  pre- 
ceding one  ;  its  contributors  lived  also  in  London  :  "L'avantage 
qu'ont  les  auteurs  d'entendre  parfaitement  l'anglois,  de  rc'sider  a 
Londres  ct  d'etre  au  fait  de  la  litterature  angloise  scmble  devoir 
former  un  prcjuge  en  leur  faveur."  Henceforth  a  place  is  given  to 
English  authors  in  nearly  all  periodicals,  now  become  innumerable, 
and  in  compilations  like  those  of  Niceron  :  "  Memoires  pour 
servir  a  1'histoire  des  homines  illustres,"  Paris,  1727,  ft".;  of 
Clement:  "Les  Cinq  Annees  litteraires,  1748-^2  (The  Hague, 
1754,  ^°)  '■>  m  tnc  nianifold  publications  of  the  prolific  and  not  very 
competent  abbe  Desfontaines,  the  translator  of  "Gulliver,"  refuter 
of  Muralt,  editor  of  the  "Journal  des  Savants''  from  1724  to  1727, 
of  "  Le  Nouvelliste  du  Parnasse,"  1731,  ft".,  of"  the  "  Jugcmens  sur 
quclques  ouvrages  nouvcaux,"  Avignon,  1744,  ft.,  &c.  See  also  the 
"Mercure"  of",  e.g.,  June,  1722,  May  and  August,  1723,  December, 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  183 

the  past  and  the  present,  on  philosophers,  theologians, 
and  poets,  on  Waller,  Denham,  and  Milton  :  "  Every 
body  knows  that  Milton  was  a  person  of  distinguished 
merit." 

The  most  remarkable  of  all  these  scattered  essays  is 
the  "  Dissertation  sur  la  poesie  Angloise  "  ^published 
by  the  "Journal  litteraire "  of  the  Hague  in  1717, 
and  containing  considerations  on  the  general  cha- 
racteristics of  English  literature  and  comparisons 
between  English  and  French  authors  from  the  time 
of  Chaucer.  Scarron  is  compared  with  Butler  ;  Boileau 
with  Dryden  and  with  Pope  ;  La  Fontaine  with  Prior. 
An  essay  of  some  length  is  devoted  to  the  drama  of 
both  nations  ;  to  French  rules,  which  are  perhaps  too 
strict  ;  to  English  liberties,  which  are  surely  too  great. 
Moliere  and  Racine  are  compared  with  their  reeble 
imitators.  The  most  minute  details  as  yet  printed  in 
French  are  given  (seventeen  vears  before  Voltaire's 
"  Lettres ")  on  the  English  drama,  and  especiallv  on 
Shakespeare,  on  his  "  Hamlet,"  in  which  speeches 
"  extremely  strong  and  energetic  "  are  found  mingled 
with  low  touches,  "  des  traits  rampants  "  ;  on 
"Othello";  "Henry  VI."  ;  "Richard  III.";  in  a 
word  on  that  genius  whom  his  compatriots  hold  in 
"exorbitant  esteem"  ; — a  lawless  genius,  observes  the 
"Journal  litt«iraire,"  who  "imitated  no  one,  and 
drawing  everything  from  his  own  imagination,  aban- 
doned, so  to  speak,  his  works  to  the  care  of  Fortune, 
without  choosing  the  noble  and  necessarv  circumstances 

1724,  July,  1725  (all  those  numbers  contain  articles  on  the  English 
drama,  partly  drawn,  without  any  acknowledgment,  from  Saint- 
Evremond  and  Muralt). 


1 84  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

of  his  subjects,  and  without  rejecting  those  that  were 
useless  and  indecent.  It  does  not  even  appear  from  his 
plays  that  he  educed,  by  his  own  reasoning,  from  the 
nature  of  tragedy,  the  slightest  fixed  rule  for  his  own 
use  to  replace  the  rules  of  the  ancients  which  he  had 
neglected  to  study." 

The  translation  of  an  English  work,  even  what  was 
formerly  so  rare,  of  a  literary  work,  is  less  and  less  of  a 
curiosity.  Addison's  "  Cato  "  is  put  into  French,  also 
Milton's  "Paradise,"1  Defoe's  "Robinson  Crusoe," 
Swift's  "Gulliver,"  the  "Spectator,"  the  "Tattler" 
(whose  articles  have  for  Continental  readers  the  interest 
of  giving  a  picture  of  the  English,  drawn  by  themselves), 
Pope's  "  Essay  on  Criticism,"  which  is  even  translated 
into  French  verse.2  Translating  becomes  an  industry 
employing  many  hands  ;  English  takes  the  place  that 
Spanish  had  held  in  the  sixteenth  century.  These  literary 
manufactories,  established  for  the  most  part  in  Holland, 
and  usually  by  Protestants,  continue,  it  is  true,  to  give 
the  preference  to  books  of  philosophy,  history,  and 
science,  for  it  remains  an  undisputed  fact  that  the  English 
"  think  profoundly."  This  judgment  continues  to 
be  found  everywhere,  and  comes  up  under  every  form  : 
"  The  English  have  written  on  all  sorts  of  matters,  and 
have  written  well  ;   they  have  their  Malebranches,  their 


1  By  Dupre  dc  Saint-Maur  and  Cheron  dc  Boismorand,  Paris, 
1727,  3  vols.,  1  20  ;  by  Louis  Racine,  Paris,  1755,  3  vols.,  8°  (three 
or  four  other  translations  in  the  same  century). 

2  Amsterdam,  1 7 1 7  ;  translation  in  prose,  with  the  "  Essai  sur 
l'homme,"  text  on  opposite  page,  by  the  famous  financier 
Silhouette  (the  same  whose  name  was  satirically  used  to  designate 
the  flat  outline  portraits  in  black,  u  la  mode  in  those  days). 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  185 

Fontenelles,  their  Petaus.  .  .  .  The  liberty  they  enjoy, 
added  to  their  temperament,  makes  them  go  deeply 
into  matters  and  investigate  thoroughly  what  others 
only  glance    at."  1 

This  point  of  view  is  so  generally  accepted  that 
Boissy  is  able  to  embody  it  in  a  comedy  and  to  interest 
the  Parisian  public  with  a  play  turning  solely  upon 
that  subject.  We  have  in  it  a  wise  French  baron, 
an  honour  to  his  country  and  capable  of  appreci- 
ating the  merits  of  other  nations  ;  a  French  mar- 
quis, elegant  and  giddy,  who  sees  nothing  good 
out  of  Paris  ;  a  "  milord "  who  is  very  much  like 
the  typical  American  in  Alexandre  Dumas'  plays  : 
practical,  determined,  sensible,  unprejudiced,  plain  of 
speech,  and  prompt  of  action  ;  2  and  a  dull  merchant, 
"Jacques  Rosbif,"  heavy  with  commerce,  who  is  not 
to  win  the  hand  of  Eliante  any  more  than  the  giddy 
marquis.  The  scene  is  in  London.  Here,  says  the 
baron,  conversation  is  full  of  sense. 

"  The  Marquis.  Their  conversation  ?  they  have  none  at  all. 
They  remain  an  hour  without  talking  and  have  nothing  else  to  say 
than  :  Hozc  do  you  ?  .  .  .  The  three  years'  stay  you  have  made  in 
London  have  completely  ruined  your  taste,  and  you  have  even 
caught  that  foreign  air  that  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  town  have. 

The  Baron.  The  inhabitants  of  this  town  have  a  foreign  air  r 
What  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  that  : 

The   Marquis.      I    mean    that    they    have    not    got    the    air    one 

1  Saint-Hvacinthe,  "Memoires  litteraires,"  The  Hague,  1 716, 
8°,  p.  i+9.    ' 

2  Henceforth  a  familiar  personage,  who  reappears  in  Voltaire's 
plays  :  part  of  Freeport  (in  the  "  ficossaise  '').  Freeport  unites, 
however,  the  qualities  of  the  "milord"  and  the  roughness  of 
Rosbif. 


1 86  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

should  have,  that  free,  open,  prepossessing,  engaging,  gracious  air, 
the  air  '  par  excellence  '  ;  in  a  word,  the  air  we  French  have.  .  .  . 
As  there  is  but  one  good  taste,  so  there  is  but  one  right  air,  and  it 
is  unquestionably  ours.  .  .  .  Good  sense  is  nothing  else  than  com- 
mon sense,  which  runs  the  streets  and  is  of  all  countries.  But  wit 
grows  only  in  France,  which  is,  so  to  speak,  its  native  soil  ;  we 
furnish  all  the  other  nations  of  Europe  with  it."  ' 

In  spite  of  these  fine  speeches,  Boissy  lets  his  marquis 
do  penance  alone,  and  rewards  the  sensible  baron  with 
the  hand  of  Eliante  :  a  first  symptom  of  nascent 
anglomania,  1727. 

For  some  Anglomaniacs  might  already  be  found, 
several  years  before  the  Letters  of  Voltaire.  A  few 
months  after  Boissy 's  play,  Marivaux,  who  had  just 
founded  his  "  Spectateur  Francois"  in  imitation  of 
Addison's,  had  his  "  He  de  la  Raison  ou  les  petits 
hommes  "  2  performed,  with  a  prologue  in  which 
he  discussed  the  same  question  as  Boissy,  but  pro- 
nounced a  different  verdict.  The  dispute  is  again 
between  a  marquis  and  a  chevalier,  but  as  the  unlucky 
marquises  had  been  doomed  to  ridicule  ever  since  the 
days  of  Moliere,  Marivaux's  marquis  is  now  made  to 
defend  the  English,  ever  lost  in  their  meditations,  while 

1  "  Le  Francois  a  Londres,"  by  M.  de  Boissy  of  the  French 
Academy,  performed  July  19,  1727,  4th  ed.,  Paris,  1759.  The 
play  was  a  great  success  :  "  Lc  contraste  dcs  caracteres  des  Francais 
et  des  Anglais  est  nature!  et  touche  avec  vivacite  dans  cctte  piece 
epic  Ton  donne  souvent  au  public."  Clement  and  De  la  Porte, 
"Anecdotes  dramatiques,"  Paris,  1775,  3  vols.,  8°,  vol.  i.,  p.  397. 

2  In  three  acts,  performed  September  1  I,  1727,  printed  the  same 
year.  Resemblances  have  been  pointed  out  between  "Midsummer 
Night's  Dream"  and  "Arlcquin  poli  par  1'Amour,"  by  Marivaux, 
in  which  figures  a  fairy  enamoured  of  the  clownish  Arlequin  ; 
but    these   resemblances   are   faint   ones,  and  seem  to   be   accidental. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  187 

the  wise  chevalier  makes  fun   of  him,  routs  him,   and 
at  last  converts  him  : — 


"  The  Marquis.  The  p!av  we  arc  going  to  see  is  no  doubt  taken 
from  '  Gulliver  '  ? 

The  Chevalier.      I  do  not  know.      What  makes  you  think  so  ? 

The  Marquis.  Egad,  it  is  called  '  Little  Men,'  and  doubtless 
they  arc  the  little  men  of  the  English  book. 

The  Chevalier.  But  the  mere  sight  or"  a  dwarf  is  enough  to 
suggest  the  idea  of  little  men,  without  the  help  of  that  book. 

The  Marquis  {eagerly).  What  !  seriouslv,  you  think  the  play  is 
not  about  Gulliver  ? 

The  Chevalier.     Well,  what  does  it  matter  to  us  r 

The  Marquis.  What  it  matters  to  me  ?  It  matters  so  much, 
that  if  it  is  not  about  that,  I  shall  presentlv  leave." 

His  reason  is  that  the  English  "think"; — which 
we,  replies  the  chevalier  ironical lv,  "  do  not  ;  we  have 
not  got  that  talent."  And  thereupon  he  compares  the 
two  temperaments  :  "  With  them  everything  is  serious, 
everything  is  grave,  everything  is  taken  literally  ;  one 
would  think  they  had  not  been  long  enough  together  ; 
other  men  are  not  yet  their  brothers,  thev  look  upon  them 
as  beings  of  another  nature.  If  thev  see  customs  other 
than  theirs,  it  vexes  them.  As  for  us,  we  find  amuse- 
ment in  all  that ;  everything  is  welcome  to  us ;  we 
are  the  natives  of  all  countries  ;  with  us,  the  fool 
diverts  the  sage  ;  the  sage  corrects  the  fool  without 
spurning  him  ;  here  nothing  is  grave,  nothing  is  impor- 
tant, save  what  deserves  to  be  so.  We  are  of  all  men 
in  the  world,  those  who  have  been  of  most  account 
with  humanity."  The  marquis,  convinced,  exclaims  : 
"  Come,  good  citizen,  come  that  I  may  embrace  thee  "  ; 
and   he   declares    he   will    leave    the    play    if    he    finds 


188  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRA.XCE 

"Gulliver  "  in  it.  Gulliver's  absence  is,  unfortunately, 
not  sufficient  to  ensure  the  success  of  a  play,  and 
Marivaux's  had  only  four  representations. 

England  had  sent  the  poet  Matthew  Prior  to  Paris  ; 
France  returned  the  compliment  by  sending  to  London 
the  poet  Qestouches,  formerly  a  soldier,  nearly  killed 
at  Landau,  wourfded  at  Friedlingen,  author  already  of 
several  plays,  and  honoured,  at  the  beginning  of  his 
literary  career,  by  a  letter  in  which  old  Boileau  incited 
him  to  climb  Parnassus  and  u  cull  the  infallible  laurels 
which  await  you  there."  Destouches  remained  six  years 
in  London,  first  as  secretary  of  embassy,  then  as 
charge  d'affaires,  and  many  of  those  fine  red 
leather  volumes,  stamped  with  the  arms  of  France,  in 
which  the  original  despatches  of  French  envoys  are 
preserved  in  the  archives  of  the  Affaires  Etrangeres, 
are  filled  with  his  official  correspondence.  He  married 
in  London,  learned  the  English  language,  studied  the 
English  drama,  as  may  be  seen  from  several  plays 
written  by  him  after  his  return  to  Paris,  and 
became  the  friend  of  Addison,  who  liked  to  discuss 
with  him  the  merits  of  rules  and  decency,  about 
which  both  held  the  same  opinion  :  "  He  told  me 
so  himself,"   writes  Destouches.1 

Shortly  after,  the  .ciAJbbe  Prevost,  in  his  turn,  visited 
England,  examined  the  country,  was  pleased  with  it,  and 
assigned  it  as  a  temporary  dwelling-place  to  his  "  Homme 
de  Qualite."  The  travelling  impressions  noted  by  the 
Man  of  (Quality  in  his  "Memoires"  are  Prevost's  own.2 

1  Preface  to  the  "  Tambour  nocturne."  Stay  in  London  from 
1717  to  1723. 

~    Book  v.      The  "Memoires"  came  out  from   1  72S  onwards. 


ABBE    PREVOST. 
By  G.  F.  Schmidt,  f  •  .  1745. 


>•  1% 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTl'RY.     PART  I  igi 

The  country  "  is  not  sufficiently  known  "  ;  Prevost 
speaks  of  it  with  sympathy  ;  he  describes  not  only 
London,  but  many  provincial  towns,  such  as  the 
elegant  watering-place  of  Tunbridge  Wells,  already 
eulogised  by  French  travellers  in  the  preceding 
century.1 

He  goes  to  Oxford,  visits  castles,  sits  in  the  coffee- 
houses where  "  milords  "  and  artisans  discuss  State 
affairs;  coffee  -  houses  "are,  as  it  were,  the  seat  of 
Anglican  liberty."  He  frequents  the  theatres,  and 
Mrs.  Oldfield  seems  to  him  so  beautiful,  that— 
triumph  or  love — he  sets  himself  the  task  of  learning 
English  on  her  account  :  "  It  must  be  agreed  that 
she  is  an  incomparable  woman.  She  has  made  me 
like  the  English  theatre,  for  which  I  had  but  little 
inclination  at  first.  Charmed  with  the  sound  of  her 
voice,  with  her  face,  and  with  her  every  movement,  I 
made  haste  to  learn  enough  English  to  understand  her, 


1  "  Vous  voyez  un  reste  dc  cos  enchancements  jadis  si  communs 
en  ce  pays  ;  e'est  en  cet  endroit  delicieux  qu'Amadis  ct  Orianne 
consommerent  jadis  leur  mariage  et,  pour  conserver  une  memoire 
eternelle  des  plaisirs  qu'ils  y  prirent,  l'enchanteur  qui  se  melon  de 
leurs  affaires  a  donne'  a  ces  eaux  une  vertu  miraculeuse  : — 


"  Ces  eaux  portent  an  coeur  de  si  deuces  vapeurs, 
Ou'une  belle  en  buvant,  presque  sans  qu'elle  y  pense, 
Guerit  en  un  moment  de  toutes  ses  rigueur-. 
Et  le  galant  de  sa  soufFrance." 

Pavilion  to  Madame  de  Pelissary,  "Melanges"  added  to  the 
"CEuvres  melees  "  of  Saint-Evremond,  London,  T  ~oS,  vol.  vi.,  p.  94, 
time  of  Charles  II, 


192  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

and  after  that  I  rarely  failed  to  attend  the  plays  in 
which  she  appeared." 

Soon  the  sight  of  the  actress  was  not  his  chief 
pleasure  ;  he  became  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  English 
dramatic  art,  and  particularly  of  Shakespeare.  The 
fault  in  English  plays  is  their  want  of  regularity  : 
"  But,  for  the  beauty  of  the  sentiments,  be  they  tender 
or  sublime,  for  that  tragic  power  which  stirs  the  deepest 
regions  of  the  soul  and  never  fails  to  arouse  the  passions 
dormant  in  the  dullest  mind  ;  for  energy_of  expression, 
for  the  art  of  bringing  events  about,  and  of  managing 
situations,  I  have  read  nothing  either  in  Greek,  or  in 
French,  which  surpasses  the  drama  in  England. 
Shakespeare's  '  Hamlet,'  Dryden's  '  Don  Sebastian,' 
Otway's  '  Orphan  '  and  '  Venice  Preserved,'  several  plays 
of  Congreve's,  Farquhar's,  &c,  are  excellent  tragedies, 
where  one  finds  a  thousand  beauties  united."  He 
acknowledges  that  some  of  them  are  no  doubt  "  a  little 
disfigured  by  a  mixture  of  buffoonery  unworthy  of  the 
buskin  "  ;  no  matter,  he  is  under  the  charm.  Come- 
dies seem  to  him  no  less  admirable  ;  he  listens  to 
them  "  with  infinite  satisfaction.  At  first  the  actors' 
declamation  seems  to  foreigners  hard  and  peculiar,  but 
it  does  not  take  long  to  get  accustomed  to  it,  and  one 
ends  by  finding  that  they  attain  to  the  true  and  the 
natural."  Prevost,  in  fact,  talks  like  an  "  anglomane," 
and  he  is  one  of  the  first  in  date. 

He  is  withal  not  less  surprised  than  the  travellers 
who  had  come  before  him,  at  the  strange  sights  offered 
by  the  streets  of  London,  at  the  ferocity  of  the  wrestlers, 
boxers,  and  gladiators,  who  end  by  emitting  blood  from 
their    nostrils,   mouths,   and   ears,  or  who  remove  by  a 


"MRS.   OLDFIELD,   THE   CELEBRATED   COMEDIAN." 

From  the  picture  by  Richardson,  engraved  by  Ed.  Fisher.      'p.  193. 


*4 


. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  195 

clever  sword-cut  a  slice  from  their  adversary's  leg  ;  as 
the  celebrated  Figg  did  one  day  in  Prevost's  presence.1 
He  notes  the  independence  of  manners,  and  a  practice 
of  equality  very  surprising  to  foreigners  :  "  Who  could 
imagine,  for  instance,  that  the  most  miserable  street 
porter  will  dispute  precedence  with  a  '  mylord  '  whose 
quality  he  knows,  and  that  if  one  or  the  other  refuses 
to  give  way,  they  will  publicly  exchange  blows  until 
the  stronger  remains  master  of  the  pavement  ?  This 
happens  frequently  in  London.  I  have  heard  mylord 
H.  boast  of  having  overthrown  a  chair-bearer,  although 
he  confessed  that  the  man  was  a  vigourous  rascal  who 
had  made  him  feel  the  weight  of  his  arms  in  more  than 
one  place."  This  was  not  a  unique  example,  nor  even 
a  rare  one,  and  many  besides  Prevost  were  able  to 
observe  as  much  :  "  The  late  Marechal  de  Saxe  going 
through  the  streets  of  London  on  foot,"  we  read  in 
another  description  of  the  town,  "  had  an  affair  with  a 
scavenger  that  he  ended  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  to 
the  unanimous  applause  of  all  the  bvstanders.  He  let 
his  scavenger  come  up  close  to  him,  seized  him  by  the 
nape  of  the  neck  and  whirled  him  aloft,  directing 
him  in  such  wise  that  he  fell   into  the   middle  of  his 


1  "  Le  sergent  (an  Irish  soldier)  porta  un  coup  a  Figg  qui  lui 
coupa  une  piece  assez  large  de  son  bras.  .  .  .  Figg,  dans  l'instant 
meme,  lui  emporta  une  grande  partie  du  mollet  qui  tomba  sur  la 
scene.  Tout  le  monde  applaudit  a  un  si  beau  coup  en  frappant  des 
mains  et  en  criant  bravo,  bravo,  ancora,  ancora,  qui  est  une  facon 
d'applaudir  qu'ils  ont  prise  des  Italiens.  Le  sergent  ne  pouvant 
plus  se  soutenir  demeura  assis  en  considerant  son  sang,  qui  coulait 
comme  un  ruisseau."  "  Memoires  d'un  homme  de  qualite,"  bk.  v. 
Figg  died  in  1  734.. 


196  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

tumbrel  filled  to  the  top  with  liquid  mud  "  ;  a  new 
victory  to  add  to  those  of  Fontenoy  and  Rocoux.1 

Guide-books  recommended  ordinary  travellers,  who 
had  not  won  the  battle  of  Fontenoy,  rather  to  employ 
persuasion  if  they  could,  "  la  voie  de  la  douceur,"  and 
discouraged  both  "  les  represailles  "  and  the  appeal  to 
judges.2 

"  French  Dog  "  was  still  the  fashion,  and  people  in 
the  streets  continued  to  gather  around  strangers,  with 
aggressive  intent  ;  as  the  learned  La  Condamine  was 
enabled  to  observe  :  "  In  the  journey  he  made  two  or 
three  years  since  to  London,  M.  de  La  Condamine 
was  attended,  in  all  his  outings,  by  a  numerous  cortege 
attracted  by  a  huge  tin  ear-trumpet  which  he  constantly 
held  to  his  ear,  a  map  of  London  which  he  carried 
about  unfolded,  and  his  frequent  pauses  before  every 
object  worthy  of  his  attention.      In  his  first  walks,  often 


1  "  Londrcs,"  by  Grosley,  1770,  3  vols.,  i.,  p.  149.  Many  other 
examples  might  be  quoted.  Here  is  one  more  :  "  Si  un  cocher  de 
fiacre  a  dispute  pour  le  payement  avee  un  gentilhommc  qu'il  a  mene 
et  que  le  gentilhomme  lui  offre  dc  sc  battre  avec  lui  pour  vuider  la 
querelle,  le  cocher  y  consent  de  bon  cceur.  Le  gentilhomme  6te  son 
epee,  la  met  dans  quelque  boutique,  avec  sa  cannc,  ses  gants  et  sa 
cravate  et  se  bat.  .  .  .  Si  le  cocher  est  bien  battu,  ce  qui  arrive 
prcsque  toujours  (Side  note  :  Un  gentilhomme  ne  s'expose  guere  a 
un  pareil  combat,  s'il  ne  se  sent  etre  le  plus  fort),  le  voila  pave  : 
mais  s'il  est  battant,  il  faut  que  le  battu  pave  ce  qui  etait  en  ques- 
tion. J'ai  une  fois  vu  le  feu  Due  de  Grafton  [Side  note  :  Dans  le 
beau  milieu  de  la  grande  rue  du  Strand.  Le  Due  de  Grafton  etait 
grand  et  extraordinaircment  robuste)  aux  prises  en  pleine  rue  avec 
un  pareil  cocher  qu'il  etrilla  d'unc  terrible  maniere."  Misson, 
"  Mcmoires  d'Angleterrc,"  La  Have,    1698,  p.   253. 

•'  Expilly,  "  Description  .  .  .  des  Isles  Britanniqucs,"  Paris,  1759, 
p.  24. 


'■-■  ■■■/  ■'■      SsAat/tf 

■     : 
•  •'  /•    :•  -  .  '•-  7< 

I  ff 


JAMES    Hhi;.    THE    PUGILIST   AXU    SWuKDsMAN". 

From  the  painting  by  Eilys,  t  ugitiitii  by  >.  Ftibc 


t 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  199 

surrounded  by  the  crowd  which  hampered  his  move- 
ments, he  used  to  shout  to  his  interpreter  : — 

"  '  What  do  all  these  people  want  ?  ' 

"And  the  interpreter,  applying  his  lips  to  the  ear- 
trumpet,  shouted  back  : — 

"  '  They  are  making  fun  of  you.' 

"  They  became  accustomed  at  last  to  seeing  him,  and 
ceased  to  gather  about  his  person."1 

Immediately  after  his  journey  to  England  Prevost 
employed  himself  in  trying  to  propagate  a  knowledge  of 
English  literature,  and  with  this  intent,  independently 
of  his  voluminous  and  far  from  accurate  translations, 
he  published  in  Paris  a  periodical,  "  Le  Pour  et  Contre," 
1733.2  In  the  first  number  Prevost  wrote  (and  this 
shows  how  the  taste  for  English  things  was  begin- 
ning then  to  spread)  :  "  What  will  be  quite  peculiar 
to  this  paper,  is  that  I  promise  to  insert,  in  each 
number,  some  interesting  particular  touching  the 
genius  of  the  English,  the  curiosities  of  London  and 
of  the  other  parts  of  the  island,  and  the  progress  which 
is  made  there  daily  in  science  and  in  art."  3     He  kept 

1  Groslev,  "  Londres,"  i.,  p.  150. 

2  "  Le  Pour  et  Contre,  ouvrage  pe'riodique,  dun  goiit  nouveau, 
dans  lequel  on  s'explique  librement  sur  tout  ce  qui  peut  interesser 
la  curiosite  du  public  en  matiere  de  sciences,  d'art,  de  livres, 
d'auteurs,  &c,  sans  prendre  aucun  parti  et  sans  ofFenser  personne  ; 
par  l'auteur  des  Memoires  d'un  homme  de  qualite." 

3  This  interest,  of  recent  date,  was  already  lively,  for  Prevost 
counted  upon  a  publication  thus  planned,  "pour  gagner  du  pain,"  as 
Mathieu  Marais  observed  in  not  verv  flattering  terms  :  "  Un  certain 
Prevost,  ex-benedictin,  est  arrive  la  avec  une  suivante  ;  il  s'est 
avise,  pour  gagner  du  pain,  de  faire  un  journal  sous  le  nom  de  Pour 
et  Centre,"  July  11,  1733.  "Journal  et  Memoires,"  ed.  Lescure, 
Paris,  1863,  vol.  iv.  p.  504. 


~'oo  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

his  word  and  translated  passages  from  the  best  authors ; 
he  gave  information  about  the  literature,  the  customs, 
and  the  manners  of  the  English. 

But  already  the  most  illustrious  of  all  these  travellers 
had  sojourned  in  England  and  had  returned  thence,  had 
familiarised  himself  with  the  men  of  letters  there,  Swift, 
Pope,  Congreve,  and  many  others,  and  had  learnt 
English  well  enough  to  write  it  fluently,  so  as  not  to 
be  understood,  he  said,  "  by  people  too  inquisitive."  It 
was  still,  at  that  time,  somewhat  as  though  one  had 
corresponded  in  cipher.  Voltaire  was  very  far  from 
seeing  a  crabbed  patois  in  that  language,  as  Saint-Amant 
formerly  had  :  "  I  look  upon  the  English  language  as  a 
learned  one  which  deserves  to  be  the  object  of  our 
application  in  France,  as  the  French  tongue  is  thought 
a  kind  of  accomplishment  in  England."  For  his  part, 
he  had  learnt  English  as  if  it  had  been  "  Greek  or 
Latin,"  that  is  to  say,  particularly  from  a  grammatical 
point  of  view  ;  the  pronunciation  seems  to  have  offered 
insuperable  difficulties  to  him.1  Finally  he  published 
in  French  his  famous  "  Lettres  philosophiques,"  the 
year  after  Prevost  had  started  his  "  Pour  et  Contre."  2 

1  "  It  lias  the  appearance  of  too  great  a  presumption  in  a  traveller 
who  hath  been  but  eighteen  months  in  England  to  attempt  to  write 
in  a  language  which  he  cannot  pronounce  at  all,  and  which  he 
hardly  understands  in  conversation.  But  1  have  done  what  we  do 
every  day  at  school  when  we  write  Latin  and  Greek,  tho'  surely 
we  pronounce  them  both  very  pitifully."  Preface  to  "An  Essay 
upon  the  Civil  Wars  of  France  .  .  .  also  upon  the  epick  poetry  of 
the  European  nations,"  1727  ;  2nd  edition,  "  corrected  by  himself," 
172S,  "Price  is.  id."  He  improved,  however,  in  his  pronuncia- 
tion during  the  remainder  of  his  stay. 

J   "Lettres   philosophiques   par    M.  de    V.,"  Amsterdam  (Rouen), 


VOLTAIKE  AT  TWESTY-FOUK.      (lJlS.)  J.2Q1. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  203 

Voltaire  had  arrived  in  the  month  of  June,  1726,  and 
his  first  impression  had  been  delightful  :  "  When  I 
landed  near  London,  it  was  in  the  middle  of  spring  ;  the 
sky  was  as  cloudless  as  on  the  finest  davs  in  the  south 
of  France  ;  the  air  was  cooled  by  a  gentle  west  wind 
which  augmented  nature's  serenity  and  disposed  the 
mind  to  joy,  such  machines  are  we,  and  so  much  do  our 
souls  depend  upon  the  action  of  our  bodies.  I  stopped 
at  Greenwich,  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames.  This 
beautiful  river,  which  never  overflows,  and  whose 
borders  are  ornamented  with  verdure  all  the  year,  was 
covered  with  two  rows  of  merchant  vessels  during  the 
space  of  six  miles  ;  all  had  unfurled  their  sails  to  honour 
the  king  and  queen,  who  were  promenading  on  the 
river  in  a  gilded  barge,  preceded  by  boats  filled  with 
music  and  followed  by  thousands  of  little  rowing  boats. 
.  .  .  There  was  not  one  of  those  mariners  who  did  not 
show  by  his  face,  by  his  dress,  and  bv  his  corpulencv 
that  he  was  free  and  that  he  lived  in  plenty."  Races 
for  girls,  young  men,  and  horses  take  place  on  the 
green  :  "  I  thought  myself  transported  to  the  Olympic 
;  games."  The  next  day,  it  is  true,  he  sees  nothing  but 
I  gloomy  people  ;  he  hears  that  "  Molly  has  cut  her 
1  throat,"  that  the  English  hang  themselves  "  by  the 
i  dozen,  in  the  months  of  November  and  March,"  and 
;  that  all  this  is  caused  bv  "  the  east  wind."  r 


1734,  120;  the  English  edition  had  appeared  the  preceding  year  : 
"Letters  concerning  the  English  nation,"  London,  1733,  8°. 

1  Letter  to  M ,  1727  (vol.  xliv.  of  the   Kehl  edition).      The 

hangings,  drownings,  and  throats  cut  on  account  of  the  east  wind 
or  tor  other  motives  were  celebrated.  Jean  Baptiste  Racine  writes 
to  his  brother  Louis  a  propos  of  suicide  :   "  Ce  nc  sera  jamais   un 


2o4  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

Such  were  his  first  impressions  and  his  first  surprises. 
He  remained  in  England  until  the  spring  of  1729. 
Patronised  by  Bolingbroke,  and  recommended,  exiled 
though  he  was,  by  Morville,  French  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs  and  member  of  the  French  Academy 
(who  had  given  him  a  letter  to  the  ambassador, 
Comte  de  Broglie),1  Voltaire,  with  his  usual  activity, 
resolved  to  turn  this  forced  sojourn  to  the  greatest 
possible  account.  He  observed  with  especial  zeal 
everything  that  differed  from  French  customs  (religious 
sects,  independence  of  minds,  confusion  of  ranks, 
trading  "  mylords,"  burial  of  Mrs.  Oldfield  the  actress, 
so  admired  by  the  Abbe  Prevost,  at  Westminster,  "  the 
Saint-Denis  of  the  English  "),  giving  of  these  singular 
ways  an  account  as  witty,  as  bitter,  often  as  comical  as 
possible,  pretending  to  blame  what  was  excessive  in 
English  customs  and  to  defend  the  ideas  received  in 
France  ;  at  bottom,  doing  just  the  contrary.  At  bottom 
is  even  saying  too  much,  it  is  almost  on  the  surface 

pechc  fort  a  la  mode  parmi  les  gens  de  bon  sens  ;  et  je  ne  crois  pas 
que  vous  vouliez  en  cettc  occasion  etre  le  missionnairc  des  Anglais  ; 
laissons-les  se  jeter  tant  qu'il  voudront  dans  la  Tamisc  ;  plut  a  Dieu 
que  leurs  sots  ccrits  y  fussent  avec  cux  !  "  1 741 .  "  CEuvres  dc 
Racine  "  (Grands   Ecrivains),  vol.  vii.,  p.   344. 

1  Sec  the  reply  of  the  Comte  de  Broglie,  afterwards  marshal  and 
duke,  to  Morville,  a  propos  of  Voltaire  and  of  his  "  Henriade," 
printed  by  me  in  the  "Revue  Critique,"  April  27,  1885  ;  also  in 
"  English  Essays,"  chap.  v.  Cf.  the  curious  letters  of  the  Earl  of 
Stair  to  James  Craggs  on  the  first  relations  of  "  my  little  poet  ye 
author  of  (Edipus  "  with  England,  printed  by  M.  E.  Scott, 
"Athenaeum,"  June  27.  1891.  On  Voltaire's  stay,  see  especially  J. 
Churton  Collins,  "Bolingbroke,  a  historical  study,  and  Voltaire  in 
England,"  London,  1886;  and  A.  Ballantyne,  "  Voltaire's  visit  to 
England,"  1726-9,  London,  1893. 


I  I    % 


s.     _• 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  207 

his  pleasure  to  be  complete  must  not  be  concealed  ;  it 
must  be  witnessed  bv  his  reader,  even  the  common 
reader  and  the  inattentive  reader  :  for  Voltaire  writes 
on  every  subject  for  every  one. 

The  Voltaire  of  the  "  Lettres  philosophiques "  is 
already  the  master-scoffer  who  made  of  irony  so 
terrible  a  weapon  ;  he  is  sure  of  his  art,  he  has  quivers 
full  of  arrows,  he  darts  them,  keeping  a  smile  on  his 
lips  ;  he  sends  them  straight  to  the  mark,  looking  the 
while  as  though  his  thoughts  were  elsewhere  and  as  if 
he  were  chatting  idly  with  his  neighbours.  Under 
pretence  of  describing  the  English  nation,  he  satirises 
the  kingdom  of  France  ;  he  relates  the  Quakers'  beliefs 
in  such  a  way  as  to  damage  the  Catholic  faith  :  and  so 
with  everything  else.  Voltaire  has  already  in  hand 
the  pen  which  will  write  the  story  of  Candide. 

On  one  point,  however,  he  is  sincere,  does  not  scoff, 
and  will  bear  no  jesting  ;  and  this  to  the  very  end.  On 
that  point  this  great  revolutionist  is  full  of  reserve  ;  he 
behaves  like  a  liberal  conservative  ;  but  he  is  far  more 
conservative  than  liberal.  The  subject  on  which  he  early 
takes  such  a  decided  attitude  is  literary  art,  and  particu- 
larly dramatic  art.  His  friends,  Bolingbroke,  Falkener, 
and  Pope,  had  made  him  acquainted  with  Shakespeare  ; 
he  went  to  see  the  great  man's  plavs,  and  assisted 
with  emotion  at  the  performance  of  "Julius  Caesar,"  in 
spite  of  "  the  barbarous  irregularities  "  of  that  tragedy. 
He  contemplated  with  stupor  a  poet  so  different  from 
those  of  his  nation  ;  he  tried  to  express  an  opinion  upon 
him,  but  trod  warily  on  such  dangerous  ground.  His 
"  Lettre  sur  la  Tragedie,"  with  which  he  reproached 
himself  later,  on  account  of  its  too  favourable  apprecia- 


2o8  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

tions,  is  far  from  breathing  enthusiasm  for  English 
liberty.1  "Shakespeare,"  he  says,  "whom  the  English 
take  for  a  Sophocles,  flourished  about  the  same  time  as 
Lope  de  Vega  ;  he  created  the  drama,  he  had  a  genius 
full  of  strength  and  fecundity,  of  naturalness,  and  sub- 
limity, without  the  least  spark  of  good  taste  and  with- 
out the  slightest  knowledge  of  rules.  I  am  going  to 
say  a  thing  very  hazardous  but  true,  namely,  that  this 
author's  merit  has  ruined  the  English  stage  ;  there  are 
such  fine  scenes,  such  grand  and  terrible  parts  inter- 
spersed in  those  monstrous  farces  called  tragedies,  that 
his  plays  have  always  been  acted  with  great  success.  .  .  . 
Most  of  the  eccentric  or  gigantesque  ideas  of  this  author 
have  acquired,  after  two  hundred  years,  the  right  to 
pass  for  sublime."  Thereupon  he  sneers  at  "Othello," 
"  a  very  touching  play  in  which  a  husband  strangles  his 
wife  on  the  stage,"  and  at  "  Hamlet,"  in  which  "  grave- 
diggers  dig  a  grave,  drinking  and  singing  ballads.". 
As  for  the  "grand  and  terrible"  parts,  he  gives  a 
specimen  of  them  by  translating  the  soliloquy  of 
Hamlet.  But  there,  his  whim  getting  the  better  of 
him,  and  delighted  to  continue  his  game  and  shock  the 
good  Christians  of  France  by  the  mouth  of  Hamlet, 
he  turns  the  soliloquy  into  a  diatribe  against  religion  : — 

"  Demcure,  il  faut  choisir  ct  passer  a  l'instant, 
Dc  la  vie  a  la  mort  et  de  l'etre  au  neant. 
Dieux  justes  !   s'i!  en  est,  eclairez  mon  courage   .    .    . 
O  mon   .   .   . 
Eh  !   qui  pourrait  sans  toi  supporter  cctte  vie, 


1    He    had   already    published  several    appreciations    upon    Shake- 
speare ;  see,  e.g.,  his  preface  to  "CEdipc,"  1730  ;   below,  pp.  245-6. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  C  EXT  CRY.     PART  I  209 

De  nos  pretres  menteurs  benir  l'hypocrisie, 
D'une  indigne  maitresse  excuser  les  erreurs, 
Ramper  sous  un  ministre,  adorer  ses  hauteurs  r " 

Needless  to  remind  the  reader  that  "  the  just  gods, 
if  such  there  be,"  and  the  "  lying  priests,"  to  say 
nothing  of  the  "  unworthy  mistresses,"  were  very  far 
from  the  thoughts  of  Prince  Hamlet. l  And  yet,  in 
spite  of  his  prejudices,  Voltaire's  literary  sense  was  too 
keen  for  him  not  to  feel  all  there  was  of  truth,  of 
strength,  and  of  life  in  that  drama  ;  so  he  sums  up  his 
opinion  in  a  phrase  of  which  the  romantic  enthusiasts 
of  1830  themselves  would  not  have  altered  a  word  : 
"  The  poetic  genius  of  the  English  is,  up  to  now,  like 
a  bushy  tree  planted  by  Nature,  throwing  out  a 
thousand  branches  and  growing  unsymmetrically  with 
strength.  It  dies  if  you  try  to  force  its  nature  and  to 
clip  it  like  one  of  the  trees  in  the  Marly  gardens."  2 

1  "  For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 

The  pangs  of  despis'd  love,  the  law's  delav, 

The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 

That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthv  takes." 

(Hi.  1.) 
2  Letter  XVIII.,  "  Sur  la  tragedie."  This  impression,  such 
as  it  is,  is  the  one  Voltaire  really  felt  when  he  began  seriously 
to  study  the  English  drama.  In  his  "  Essai  sur  la  poesie  epique," 
he  placed  the  irregular  Shakespeare  above  the  correct  Addison  : 
"Tel  est  le  privilege  du  genie  d'invention  ;  il  se  fait  une  route  ou 
personne  n'a  marche  avant  lui  ;  il  court  sans  guide,  sans  art,  sans 
regie  ;  il  s'egare  dans  sa  carriere,  mais  il  laisse  loin  derriere  lui  tout 
ce  qui  n'est  que  raison  et  qu'exactitude "  (ch.  ii.).  A  letter  to 
Thieriot  of  June  14  [1728]  shows  that  he  had  alrcadv  put  on  paper 
at  that  date  the  additions  and  corrections  which  he  introduced  later 
in  the  French  text  of  his  "Essai"  (first  published  in  English  in  an 
abbreviated  form,  and  without  the  passage  here  quoted,  i~27). 


210  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

The  phrase  had  not,  however,  in  Voltaire's  eyes,  quite 
the  same  meaning  it  had  to  the  enthusiasts  of  1830. 
The  "  Lettres  "  came  out,  it  must  not  be  forgotten, 
at  a  time  when  Albano  was  preferred  to  Rembrandt. 

They  appeared,  and  made  a  great  stir.  Firstly,  the 
moment  they  were  issued,  they  were  condemned  to  be 
"  lacerated  and  burnt  in  the  Court  of  the  Palace  [of 
Justice]  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  stairway  of  the  same, 
by  the  executor  of  high  justice,  as  scandalous,  contrary 
to  religion,  good  morals,  and  to  the  respect  due  to  the 
powers,"  June  10,  1734.  Secondly,  the  book  had 
really  all  the  faults  attributed  to  it  in  the  sentence  ;  the 
advertising  done  for  it  by  the  executor  of  high  justice 
was  no  cheat,  and  the  amateurs  who  managed  to  procure 
it  got  their  money's  worth.  It  was,  moreover,  written 
in  that  style  at  once  sharp  and  clear,  rapid  and  light  of 
gait,  the  incomparable  style  of  Voltaire.  Finally,  it 
satisfied  that  growing  curiosity,  pointed  out  by  the  Abbe 
Prevost,  for  the  things  of  nebulous  England.  Voltaire 
spoke  of  them  after  a  prolonged  stay,  as  one  who  had  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  subject,  who  knew  the 
language,  who  had  read  the  books  and  seen  the  people. 
He  did  not  speak  by  hearsay  of  Congreve,  "  infirm  and 
almost  dying  when  I  knew  him  "  ;  nor  of  Pope,  "  with 
whom  I  passed  much  of  my  time  "  ;  nor  of  the  Quakers  : 
"  I  went  to  see  one  of  the  celebrated  Quakers  of  Eng- 
land." In  short,  he  wrote  in  that  tone  of  authority  and 
with  that  "blacker  ink"  which  he  so  well  knew  how  to  use. l 

Adversaries   were    not   wanting,    and   their   diatribes 

1  The  success,  naturally  enough,  was  not  quite  so  great  in 
London.  The  English  edition  had  appeared  first,  in  1733. 
Jordan,    who    was    in    England    at    the    time,    notes    the    effect    it 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  213 

served  to  heighten  further  the  success  of  the  book. 
The  "R.P.D.P.B."  (Le  Coq  de  Villeray)  protested 
in  the  name  of  patriotism  and  good  taste  ;  his  indigna- 
tion was  aroused  especially  by  the  eulogiums  bestowed 
on  Shakespeare,  which  seemed  to  him  immoderate. 
What  need  to  go  and  praise  Shakespeare  when  there 
had  been  a  Grevin  ?  "Jacques  Grevin,  who  died  in 
1570,  at  the  age  of  twenty-nine,  would  perhaps  have 
soared  as  high  as  Shakespeare,  whose  contemporary  he 
was,  if  death  had  not  so  soon  cut  the  thread  of  his  lite. 
The  tragedy  of  'Cesar'  might  have  ranked  with  the 
1  More  of  Venice,'  and  I  doubt  not  that  M.  de  Voltaire, 
who,  in  dramatic  matters,  passes  for  having  some  taste, 
would  have  found  some  also  in  that  plav,  he  who 
acknowledges  that  his  Shakespeare  was  completely 
devoid  of  it.  Grevin,  on  the  contrary,  was  one  of 
the  finest  geniuses  of  his  time  ;  he  put  wit  into  every- 
thing he  did."  Shakespeare  died  "in  15-6"  (a 
mistake  of  forty  years),  the  remote  period  at  which  he 
lived  is  his  only  excuse  for  "all  the  foolish  things  he 
put  on  the  stage."  l 

produced  :  "  Pendant  le  temps  que  i'etois  en  Angleterre,  les  U 
de  M.  de  Voltaire  sur  les  Anglois  parurent  en  anglois  sous  la  direc- 
tion de  \1.  Tvriot,  ami  de  ce  poete.  j'ouis  parler  differemment  de 
ces  lettres  :  les  uns  en  etoient  contents,  d'autres  soutenoient  que  ce 
poete  parloit  d'une  nation  qui  lui  etoit  inconnue  ;  la  phipart  cepen- 
dant  rendoient  justice  a  l'auteur  et  convenoient  qu'il  y  a  des  choses 
curieuses  ct  dites  avec  esprit."  "Histoire  d'un  voyage  litteraire  fait 
en  1733,  en  France,  en  Angleterre  et  en  Hollande."  La  Have,  2nd 
ed.,  1736,  p.  186.  The  French  text  of  Voltaire's  "Lettres"  went 
through  five  editions  within  the  vear  of  its  publication  (Bengesco). 
1  "  Reponse  ou  critique  des  Lettres  philosophiques  de  M.  de 
V."  Basle,  1735,  PP-  7^  ff-  On  the  "Cesar"  of  Grevin.  >ee 
above,  p.  40. 


2i4  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

II. 

From  that  moment,  information  becomes  more  pre- 
cise ;  Voltaire  has  spoken,  every  one  listens  ;  he  has 
written,  every  one  reads  him  ;  he  is  admired,  blamed, 
discussed  ;  his  shrill  trumpet  has  awakened  sleeping 
energies  ;  people  are  ecstatic  or  indignant  ;  his  tiniest 
pamphlet  starts  a  question,  and  sometimes  causes  a  war. 
His  "  Lettres  "  gave  rise  to  a  quantity  of  other  essays 
on  the  same  subjects.  Shakespeare  thus  became,  like 
the  Quakers,  one  of  the  curiosities  of  England  ;  it  was 
difficult  henceforth  to  talk  about  that  country  without 
mentioning  him  :  "  I  see  very  well  that  you  expect  me 
at  this  place  to  speak  to  you  of  the  Quakers  or  Shakers  " 
("  des  Quarkers  ou  des  Trembleurs  "),  wrote  Sorbieres, 
who,  when  he  came  to  the  drama,  celebrated  the 
Duchess  of  Newcastle,  and  did  not  name  Shakespeare. 
Travellers  are  now  expected  to  talk,  not  only  about  the 
Quakers,  but  also  about  the  author  of  "  Hamlet." 
The  grave  Montesquieu  himself,  as  early  as  1730,  had 
been  obliged  to  hold  an  opinion  on  Shakespeare  ;  it 
does  him  less  honour  than  his  dicta  on  the  government 
of  the  nations:  "The  5th  of  October,  1730,  I  was 
presented  to  the  Prince,  to  the  King,  and  to  the  Queen 
at  Kensington.  The  Queen,  after  having  spoken  about 
my  journeys,  spoke  of  the  English  drama  ;  she  asked 
milord  Chesterfield  whence  it  comes  that  Shakespeare, 
who  lived  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  had  made 
women  speak  so  badly,  and  had  pictured  them  so  silly. 
Milord  Chesterfield  replied  very  aptly  that  women  did 
not  appear  then  on  the  stage,  and  that  bad  actors  played 
those  parts,  which  was  why  Shakespeare  did   not  take 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  215 

so  much  trouble  to  make  them  speak  well.  I  could 
give  another  reason  for  it,  which  is  that  to  make 
women  speak,  one  must  be  accustomed  to  society  and 
to  the  bienseances.  To  make  heroes  speak  one  need 
only  be  accustomed  to  books."  '  The9e  ingenious  ex- 
planations allowed  Queen  Caroline  (to  whom  Voltaire 
had  just  dedicated  his  "  Henriade  ")  to  understand  why 
Beatrice,  Rosalind,  Portia,  and  Juliet  speak  "  so  badly  " 
and  are  "  so  silly." 

Historical  dictionaries,  which,  so  far,  had  not  said  a 
word  about  the  dramatist,  now  allow  him  a  few  lines. 
In  1735  the  "Supplement  au  Grand  Dictionnaire  de 
Moreri  "  devotes  a  notice  to  him,  in  which  it  is  said, 
as  in  Villeray's  book,  that  he  died  "in  1576"  (the 
"  Supplement  "  killed  him  at  the  age  of  twelve)  ;  that 
he  had  eccentric  and  gigantic  ideas,  followed  "  by 
several  modern  authors  to  whom  this  imitation  has 
done  no  honour."     On    this  subject  one  may  consult 


1  "  Le  5  Octobre,  1730,  je  fus  presente  au  prince,  au  roi  et  a  la 
reine,  a  Kensington.  La  reine,  apres  m'avoir  parle  de  mes  voyages, 
parla  du  theatre  anglais  ;  elle  demanda  a  milord  Chesterfield  d'oii 
vient  que  Shakespeare,  qui  vivait  du  temps  de  la  reine  Elisabeth, 
avait  si  mal  fait  parler  les  femmes  et  les  avait  faites  si  sottes.  Milord 
Chesterfield  repondit  fort  bien  que  les  femme;  ne  paraissaient  pas 
sur  le  theatre  et  que  c'etaient  de  mauvais  acteurs  qui  jouaient  ces 
roles,  ce  qui  faisait  que  Shakespeare  ne  prenait  pas  tant  de  peine  a 
les  taire  bien  parler.  J'en  dirais  une  autre  raison,  c'est  que,  pour 
faire  parler  les  femmes,  il  faut  avoir  l'usage  du  monde  et  des 
bienseances.  Pour  faire  parler  les  heros,  il  ne  faut  qu'avcir  l'usage 
des  livres."  "Notes  sur  l'Angleterre  "  ;  "  CEuvres,"  ed.  Destutt  de 
Tracy,  vol.  vii.  Montesquieu  savs  elsewhere  :  the  English  theatre 
resembles  those  freaks  of  nature,  "dans  lesquels  elle  a  suivi  des 
hasards  heureux."      "Des  Anglais  et  des   Francais." 


216  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

"  le  sieur  Arouet  de  Voltaire  and  his  so-called  philo- 
sophical letters."  l 

Verdicts  more  generous  were  formulated  at  the  same 
time;  first  of  all  by  Abbe  Prevost,  who,  in  1738, 
devoted  entire  numbers  of  his  periodical  to  Shakespeare. 
He  spoke  of  him  with  a  freedom  and  audacity  far. 
greater  than  Voltaire's,  but  which  attracted  much  less 
attention.  This  abbe  was  a  born  heretic  ;  he  spoke 
without  respect  of  the  ancients  and  their  rules  ;  and, 
what  was  then  an  unheard  of  thing,  he  did  it  to  the 
advantage  of  the  English  dramatist.  Shakespeare,  he 
said,  did  not  know  the  ancients  ;  so  much  the  better, 
for  perhaps  the  contact  "  would  have  made  him  lose 
something  of  that  warmth,  of  that  impetuosity,  and  of 
that  admirable  delirium,  if  one  may  thus  express  it, 
which  bursts  forth  in  his  slightest  productions."  He 
did  not  observe  the  unities,  "  but,  if  we  consider  the 
manners,  the  characters,  the  unfolding  of  passions  and 
the  expression  of  sentiments,  we  shall  find  scarcely 
anything  in  all  his  works  that  cannot  be  justified  ;  and 
on  all  sides  abound  beauties  which  cannot  be  praised 
too  highly."  Here  follows  an  analysis  of  "  Hamlet," 
"Macbeth,"  the  "Tempest,"  "Les  Femmes  de  Windsor 
en  bonne  humeur,"  "  Othello,"  &c. 

Prevost  knew  the  originals  of  Shakespeare's  plays  ; 
he  knew  Greene's  novel,  from  which  "  The  Winter's 
Tale "  was  derived  ;  he  suspected  that  the  English 
theatre  had   had  a  commencement  and  a  development, 


1  This  "Supplement,"  Paris,  1735,  2  vols.,  fol.,  had  been  com- 
piled by  the  Abbe  Goujct,  who  had  revised  the  R.P.D.P.B.'s 
"  Reponse,"  whence  the  similarity  of  appreciations  and  errors. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  I  217 

in  short  a  history  that  might  be  related.  Louis 
Riccoboni,  the  famous  Lelio  of  the  Comedie  Italienne, 
and  the  first  in  date  of  several  Riccobonis,  authors  and 
actors,  attempted,  in  the  same  year,  1-38,  to  relate  that 
history  and  to  give  an  account  of  Shakespeare  and  his 
times.1  He  had  been  in  London  at  the  same  time  as 
Voltaire,  and,  like  him,  had  been  to  see  old  Congreve  : 
"  I  had  more  than  one  conversation  with  him  (in  1727) 
and  I  found  him  learned,  and  verv  well  informed  on 
literary  matters."  Riccoboni  gathered  information  to 
the  best  of  his  ability  ;  he  had  something  to  say  on  the 
performances  of  mediaeval  mysteries,  on  the  children  of 
St.  Paul's,  on  the  tragedy  of  "  Gorboduc,"  "which,"  he 
observed,  "  is  attributed  in  one  edition  to  the  seigneur 
Buchurst  and  in  another  to  Thomas  Sachville,"  adding, 
"  I  cannot  imagine  the  reason  of  it."  The  reason  is  of 
course  that  the  two  persons  are  one  and  the  same  ;  but 
it  was  something  to  be  aware,  at  that  date,  of  the  exist- 
ence of  "  Gorboduc."  The  biographical  notes  devoted 
by  Riccoboni  to  Shakespeare  are  not  perfect  models  of 
accuracy  either  :  "  Having  devoured  his  patrimony  he 
took  up  robbery  as  his  profession."  He  wrote  bloody 
dramas,  "Hamlet"  amongst  others,  and  "Othello,"  in 
which  is  seen  the  incredible  strangling  of  Desdemona. 
Catastrophes  of  this  sort  are  very  astounding,  but  it 
needs  no  less  to  keep  the  too  meditative  English 
awake  :  at  tragedies  "  devoid  of  the  horrors  that 
pollute  the  stage  with  gore,  the  spectators  would 
perhaps  fall   asleep."     For   the   same    motive,   English 

1   "Reflexions   historiques   et  critiques   sur  les  ditFerents  Theatres 
de  l'Europe,"  Paris,  1738,  8°. 


218  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

comedy  is  laden  with  incidents,  "  in  order  to  prevent 
the  attention  of  the  audience  from  slackening."  When 
he  sums  up  his  opinion,  Riccoboni  cannot  help  showing 
that  he  has  been,  in  reality,  more  touched  and  more 
deeply  impressed  with  admiration  than  he  will  acknow- 
ledge ;  but  he  has  not  the  Abbe  Prevost's  temerity  ; 
he  is  kept  in  awe  by  the  thought  of  rules,  inviolable, 
immutable,  intangible,  sacred  :  "  If  it  were  allowable  to 
depart  from  those  rules  which  reason's  self  has  dictated, 
the  English  drama  would  be  able  to  balance  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  ancient  and  modern  dramas.  The  beauties 
of  English  tragedy  are  above  any  of  the  beauties  that 
the  European  theatres  can  show  us,  and  if  some  day 
English  poets  submit  to  the  three  unities  of  the  drama 
.  .  .  they  will,  at  the  very  least,  share  the  glory  enjoyed 
by  our  best  modern  poets." 

Many  others  directed  their  attention  to  the  English 
drama  and  especially  to  Shakespeare  ;  their  criticisms 
were  nearer  the  appreciations  of  Riccoboni  than  those  of 
the  audacious  Prevost.  Louis  Racine  took  Shakespeare 
as  a  point  of  comparison  in  order  to  explain  the  genius 
of  Sophocles,  and,  implicitly,  the  genius  of  his  father.1 

1  Shakespeare  "fit  tout  a  la  fois  parler  prose  ct  vers,  rire,  pleurer, 
et  heurlcr  Melpomene.  .  .  .  On  vit  sur  le  the'atre  des  Anglols  .  .  . 
des  apparitions,  des  fantomes,  des  mcurtres,  des  tetes  coupees,  des 
entcrrcments,  des  sieges  de  villes,  des  saccagements  de  couvents,  des 
maris  egorgcant  leurs  femmes,  des  patients  accompagnes  par  leurs 
confesseurs,  conduits  a  l'cchalaud.  .  .  .  Les  Anglois,  constants  a 
admirer  les  ctincellcs  qui  sortent  quclquefois  des  brouillards  de  leur 
Shakespeare,  nc  nous  envierent  point  nos  richesses  dramatiqucs." 
"  Rcmarqucs  sur  la  pocsic  de  Jean  Racine,  suivies  d'un  Traite  sur  la 
Poesie  Dramatique,"  Amsterdam  and  Paris,  1752,  3  vols.,  12°,  vol.  iii. 
pp.   190,   197. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  219 

The  Abbe  Le  Blanc  devoted  a  number  of  his  "  Lettres  "  l 
to  minute  studies  of  the  English  stage  and  of  Shake- 
speare's genius,  an  admirable  genius,  but  ruined  by  his 
ignorance  of  rules  :  "  Their  famous  Shakespeare  is 
a  striking  example  of  the  danger  one  runs  in  departing 
from  them.  This  poet,  one  of  the  greatest  who  has 
perhaps  ever  existed,  has  failed,  either  through  igno- 
rance of  the  rules  of  the  ancients,  or  unwillingness  to 
follow  them,  to  produce  a  single  work  that  is  not  a 
monster  of  its  kind."  It  may  even  be  said  that  "not 
one  of  them  can  be  read  through  from  beginning  to 
end."  His  vulgarities  are  prodigious  ;  in  his  comedies 
"  the  ample  paunch  and  wide  hat  of  the  actor  are  gene- 
rally the  most  comical  element  in  his  role.  That 
FalstafF,  so  celebrated  on  the  English  stage,  is  scarcely 
anvthing  more  than  a  buffoon  worthy  of  [Scarron's] 
Don  Japhet  of  Armenia."  In  his  tragedies,  Shakespeare 
"  does  not  scruple  to  make  Caesar  appear  in  his  night- 
cap ;  you  feel  bv  that  how  he  must  degrade  him."  2 
Some  personages,  in  this  same  play  of  "Julius  Caesar," 
abuse  each  other  so,  "  that  one  cannot  take  them  for 
Romans."  Le  Blanc — and  this  is  his  great  merit — was 
the  first  in  France  to  understand  the  incomparable 
magic  of  Shakespeare's  stvle  :  "  As  regards  style,  that 
is  the  part  which  most  distinguishes  Shakespeare  from 
the  other  poets  of  his  nation  ;   it  is  the  part  in  which 


1  "Lettres  d'un  Francois,"  The  Hague,  1745,  3  vols. 

2  Evidently  Sc.  ii.,  Act  ii.  :  "Cesar's  hou>e.  Thunder  and 
lightning.  Enter  Ca?sar  in  his  night-gown."  There  is,  however, 
no  direction  concerning  the  night-iV//>.  On  "Don  japhet,"  see 
"English   Essays   from  a   French    Pen,"  pp.    121    rr". 


220  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

he  excels.  There  is  colour  in  all  his  pictures,  life  in 
all  his  words.  He  talks,  so  to  speak,  a  language  of 
his  own  ;  for  which  reason  he  is  very  hard  to  translate. 
It  must  also  be  admitted,  however,  that,  while  his 
expressions  are  at  times  sublime,  it  often  happens  that 
he  does  not  abstain  from  the  gigantesque"  This  last 
word,  as  we  have  already  seen  by  the  way  in  which 
Voltaire  employs  it,  was  not  used  then  in  the  same 
eulogious  sense  as  it  was  by  the  romantic  writers  of 
the  i  830  period. 

Up  to  now  the  French  public  knew  Shakespeare  only 
by  hearsay,  from  the  appreciations  of  a  few  men  of 
letters  ;  it  could  not  form  its  own  opinion  ;  it  had 
at  its  disposal  only  Prevost's  short  accounts  of  the 
principal  plays  and  the  few  fragments  translated  by 
Voltaire.  No  real  translation  of  the  master's  works 
existed.  A  first  attempt  was  made  by  La  Place  in  1 745 .' 
As  yet  no  one  could  entertain  the  idea  of  translating 
the  complete  plays  ;  it  was  even  rash  to  devote, 
as  La  Place  intended  to  do,  two  volumes  to  this 
foreigner,  author  of  dramas  both  monstrous  and 
"gigantic."     In    these    two  volumes   some  plays  were 

1  "  Lc  Theatre  Anglois,"  London,  1745,  8  vols.,  1  20.  La  Place 
(Pierre  Antoine  de,  1707-93)  translated  a  quantity  of  English 
works  :  novels  by  Mrs.  Bchn,  by  Fielding,  by  Clara  Reeve,  &c. 
He  translated  Otway's  "Venice  Preserved"  and  had  it  performed 
without,  like  La  Fosse,  transferring  the  subject  to  Rome  :  "  Roseli 
harangua  lc  parterre  avant  la  piece  pour  prevenir  lc  public  sur  la 
singularity  d'un  genre  auqucl  l'auteur  a  conserve  lc  caractere 
anglais,"  1746  ;  De  Mouhy,  "Tablettes  dramatiques,"  Paris,  1 752. 
Otway's  drama  has  enjoyed  in  France  a  special  favour  ;  it  was 
recently  translated  into  French  verse  by  M.  Marcel,  French 
Minister    to    Sweden. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  I  221 

translated  (a  very  timid  translation,  attenuated,  toned 
down,  full  of  mistakes,  but  nevertheless  meritorious 
for  the  time)  ;  others  were  simply  analysed.  The 
work  was  prefaced  by  a  "  Discours  sur  le  Theatre 
Anglois,"  certainly  the  best  thing  La  Place  ever  wrote. 
He  knew  the  objections  which  would  be  made  to  his 
undertaking,  and  the  repugnance  that  people  of  taste 
would  feel  at  venturing  into  that  forest,  among  those 
brambles,  so  different  from  the  well-trained  trees  of 
Marly.  Shakespeare  would  be  blamed  for  violating 
the  unities,  for  bloodshed,  for  his  low  comic  vein,  for 
the  use  he  made  of  prose.  La  Place  had  an  answer  for 
everything  ;  he  did  not  ask  his  readers  to  admire  but 
to  know  :  "  Shakespeare's  reputation  has  held  good  for 
a  hundred  and  fifty  years.  Do  comedians  see  their 
theatre  deserted,  and  the  audience  indifferent  to  the 
performance  of  the  various  works  announced  ?  they 
have  recourse  to  Shakespeare  :  and  people  flock  to  the 
play  in  crowds.  .  .  .  ^'ould  the  modern  English  go  to 
these  plays  on  purpose  to  be  bored,  if  admiration  and 
pleasure  did  not  attract  them  r  " 

If,  thought  La  Place,  Shakespeare  could  charm  by 
means  which  none  of  our  authors  have  employed,  all 
the  more  reason  for  us  to  study  him,  since  he  will 
show  us  ways  unknown  to  us,  and  we  may  rind  it 
useful  perhaps  to  be  able  to  appreciate  for  ourselves 
that  sort  of  flavour,  "  gout  de  terroir,"  characteristic 
of  works  produced  under  skies  so  different  from  our 
own.  No  doubt  this  master  poet  uses  rhyme,  blank 
verse,  and  prose  in  the  same  play,  which  is  to  us  very 
shocking.  The  English  pretend,  however,  that  that 
way  is  "  the  most  natural :  since  the  language,  according 


222  SHAKESPEARE  LX  FRANCE 

to  them,  must  be  proportioned  to  the  quality  of  the 
speakers.  ...  It  results,  moreover,  from  this,  that 
nothing  can  be  less  monotonous  than  their  tragedies 
and  that  the  characters  are  always  natural,  distinct,  and 
strongly  depicted.  We  might  then  compare  English 
plays  to  pictures  in  which  a  deep  shading  is 
employed  by  the  painter  on  purpose  to  give  more 
relief  to  the  principal  objects.  Carrying  the  com- 
parison still  farther,  we  might  say  that  this  same 
painter  often  throws  rays  of  light  on  to  the  distant 
background  to  render  visible  episodes  that  sometimes 
are  no  component  part  of  his  subject,  but  which 
enliven  the  picture  and  cause  the  spectator  to  gaze  with 
renewed  pleasure  on  the  principal  personages."  Why, 
indeed,  be  prompt  to  blame  ?  "  Let  us  keep  ourselves 
from  condemning  unreservedly  now,  what  our  nephews 
will  perhaps  some  day  applaud."  It  seems  as  if  La 
Place  was  foreseeing,  beyond  a  Voltaire,  a  Victor  Hugo. 
The  rule  of  the  three  unities  is  sacred,  he  continues  : 
this  much  is  granted,  and  it  is  scarcely  likely  it  will  ever 
be  abolished  ;  and  yet  who  knows  ?  What  cannot  great 
minds  do  ?  "Are  the  bounds  of  genius  known  to  us  ?  " 
And  considering  that  art  which  had  just  received,  so  to 
speak,  a  new  birth,  La  Place  added  these  quasi  prophetic 
words  :  "  In  our  own  days,  have  not  new  resources,  and 
new  roads  into  the  recesses  of  the  human  heart  been 
discovered,  so  that  a  new  style  of  novel  has  been 
created  ?  Scrupulous  criticism  may  say  that  these 
ingenious  innovators,  by  dint  of  analysing  the  human 
heart,  have  only  decomposed  it.  Perhaps,  however, 
this  is  only  the  beginning  of  a  new  style  which  will  lead 
to   minute   studies    of  the   heart   of  a   kind    unknown 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  225 

before.  Discoveries  may  thus  be  made  ;  new  literary 
pleasures  procured,  and  our  nephews  will  perhaps 
witness  this  unexpected  result  :  that,  owing  to  those 
attempts,  new  rules,  sanctioning  new  enjoyments,  will  be 
introduced  into  the  drama."  l 

This  was  predicting  very  exactly,  both  the  impor- 
tance that  novels  were  to  acquire  and  the  influence 
they  were  to  exercise  upon  the  stage.  The  study  of 
Shakespeare  had  given  La  Place's  mind  the  habit  of 
observing  the  au  dela,  of  casting  looks  over  the  wall 
of  rules  ;  it  had  allowed  him  to  perceive  how  arbitrary 
were  the  lines  drawn  between  literary  genres  and  to 
foresee  the  reactions  of  one  genre    upon  another. 

He  added  very  eloquently  :  "  Shall  we  believe  that 
the  faculties  of  the  heart  and  mind  are  more  limited 
than  the  properties  of  matter  ?  or  that  their  studv  has 
bsen  carried  further  than  that  of  physics,  geometry,  and 
anatomy,  which  we  feel  to  be  still  so  far  from  having 
reached  their  final  goal  and  perfection  ?  The  world 
that  seems  decrepit  to  some  and  definitively  formed  to 
others,  is  perhaps  only  in  its  adolescence,  given  the 
centuries  which  are  still  to  follow  ours  ;  and  we  are  no 
more  justified  in   considering  it  as  having  reached  the 

1  "  N'a-t-on  pas  trouve,  de  nos  jours,  de  nouvelles  ressources  et 
de  nouvelles  routes  dans  les  replis  du  cceur  humain,  pour  creer  un 
nouveau  genre  de  roman  ?  La  critique  scrupuleuse  dira  peut- 
etre  que  ces  ingenieux  novateurs,  a  force  d'analyser  le  cceur  humain 
n'ont  fait  que  le  decomposer.  Mais  ce  n'est  peut-etre  aussi  qu'un 
premier  pas  qui  mene  a  le  travailler  en  grand.  Qui  sait  si  nos 
neveux  ne  verront  pas  eclore  de  ce  travail  de  nouvelles  decouvertes 
et  de  nouvelles  proprie'tes  qui,  formant  pour  eux  de  nouveaux 
plaisirs,  prescriront  aux  auteurs  de  nouvelles  regies  pour  le 
dramatique." 


224  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

extreme  and  impassable  limit  of  knowledge  than  were 
in  their  day  the  Egyptian  sages,  the  Greek  philosophers 
and  the  brilliant  geniuses  of  the  time  of  Augustus." 

La  Place's  appeal  was  heard,  and  the  success  exceeded 
his  expectations.  Instead  of  two  volumes,  he  had,  at 
the  request  of  his  readers,  to  devote  four  to  Shakespeare, 
and  "  to  make  known,  by  translation  or  by  analysis 
all  that  remains  of  this  author's  plays."  The  "Journal 
de  Trevoux "  published  no  less  than  seven  articles 
about  this  extraordinary  venture.1  *• 


III. 

But  to  what  extent,  one  may  well  ask,  was  the  taste 
of  the  French  public  transforming  itself;  was  it  really 
a  change  of  taste,  or  was  it  only  an  increasing  curiosity 
for  foreign  wares  ?  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
play-going  public,  if  it  read  willingly  at  home  the 
translations  of  La  Place,  encouraged  but  moderately 
on  the  stage  any  imitation  of  the  English  independents. 
The  respect  for  the  unities  was  engraved  so  deeply  in 
French  minds,  rules  formed  such  fine  avenues  in  the 
literary  field,  that  they  could  not  disappear  in  a  day, 

1  From  August,  1745  (with  the  usual  reservations  on  the  ignorance 
of  rules,  the  mixture  of  the  tragical  and  comical,  &c).  Fiquct  du 
Bocage,  thus  showing  the  audacity  of  the  translator's  undertaking, 
praised  La  Place  highly  for  having  shown  a  certain  moderation  and 
selected  "ce  qu'il  y  avait  de  presentable.  .  .  Quelle  apparence 
y  avoit-il  d'interesser  le  bon  gout  des  Francois  a  un  assemblage 
baroque  de  choscs  egalcment  c'tranges  et  ridicules  ?  "  "Lettrcsur 
le  Theatre  Anglois,  avec  une  traduction  de  l'Avare  dc  Shadwell 
et  de  la  Femmc  de  la  Campagne  de  Wycherley,"  1752,  2  vols.,  1  20. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  I 


--? 


nor  even  in  a  century.  It  was  like  the  paved  roads 
of  Louis  XIV.  ;  the  king  expended  so  much  energy 
to  make  them  that  it  would  need  nearly  as  much  to 
destroy  them,  and  so  they  still  exist.  A  few  side- 
paths,  however,  have  been  contrived,  along  those 
royal  roads  ;  and  the  same  was  done  with  regard  to 
tragedies.  For  the  thing  was  evident  even  long  before 
the  Abbe  Yart,  a  great  translator  of  English  works, 
expressed  it  :  imitation  of  the  ancients  could  vield 
nothing  more  ;  "  on  a  epuise  toutes  les  manieres 
d'imiter  les  anciens."  Something  else  must  be  found. 
It  must  and  could  be  done.  The  spirit  of  indepen- 
dence and  of  adventure  can  never  die  out  entirely  ; 
traces  of  it  are  found  in  the  quietest  and  most  civilised 
nations,  in  their  moments  of  deepest  tranquillity.  It 
manifests  itself  where  it  can  :  far  from  sight,  in  shaded 
woods,  where  the  inquisitive  go  and  discover  it  ; 
sometimes  beneath  the  embroidery  of  "  habits  a  la 
romaine,"  where  observers  detect  its  presence.  Driven 
from  regular  tragedv,  it  had  taken  possession  of  the 
opera,  and  the  opera,  under  Louis  XIV.,  belonged  v 
to  the  realm  of  literature ;  that  form  of  art  was 
cultivated  by  the  greatest  minds  of  the  century  : 
Corneille,  Moliere,  La  Fontaine.  Imagination  was 
there  allowed  full  scope,  the  place  where  the  action  ^ 
was  laid  changed  every  moment  and  opened  to  view 
scenery  either  picturesque,  charming,  or  terrible  : 
"  The  stage  represents  the  palace  and  gardens  of  the 
Tuileries  .  .  .  the  trees  are  separated  by  fountains "  ; 
or  else  we  have  "  a  village,"  "  a  desert,"  "  a  sea-port," 
"a  palace  in  ruins,"  "a  country  scene  where  a  river 
forms  an  agreeable  island."       Armide's   palace    is    de- 

16 


226  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRA^rCE 

stroyed,  ghosts  leave  their  tombs  :    "  The  earth  opens 
and  the  shade  of  Hidraot  emerges."  J 

However  sedate  an  artist's  temperament  may  be, 
there  always  remains,  somewhere,  under  lock  and  key, 
in  some  recess,  half  smothered  but  not  dead,  Folly 
with  her  cap  and  bells,  "  la  folle  du  logis."  She  looks 
through  the  keyhole,  sometimes  she  breaks  in  the  door. 
She  dictates  to  the  defenders  of  rules  unexpected  words 
or  acts.  "  Will  it  be  said,"  we  read  in  an  old  tragedy, 
that  "  I  have  been  ofttimes  seen  in  the  darksome  night, 
running  dishevelled  and  half  clothed,  to  ransack  the 
sepulchres  of  the  dead,  to  cull  with  muttered  incanta- 
tion poisonous  herbs,  look  for  serpents  amidst  the 
ruins  of  old  palaces,  darken  the  face  of  the  moon,  and 
plunge  all  nature  into  perturbation  and  terror  ?  "  All 
this  witchery  is  not  drawn  from  any  French  "Macbeth," 
but  from  the  "  Pucelle  d'Orleans  selon  la  verite  de 
l'histoire  et  les  rigueurs  du  theatre,"  by  that  great 
promoter  of  rules  and  decorum  the  Abbe  d'Aubignac.2 
Thomas  Corneille  won  prodigious  applause  because 
he  had  the  gift  of  evolving  on  the  stage  the  wildest 
plots  of  the  great  romancers  of  the  day  without  de- 
parting from  rules;  witness  his  "  Timocrate,"  1656, 
taken      from      "  Cleopatre,"     and      his      "  Berenice," 

1  Act  5th  of  "La  Comcdie  sans  Comedie  (Armide  ct  Rcnaud)  " 
1654;  prologue  of  "Alccstc,"  1674.;  "Armide,"  1686,  by  O^uinault. 
See  also  Corneille's  "  La  Toison  d'Or,"  "  Andromede,"  &c. 

2  "One  n'avez  vous  instruit  vos  satellites  pour  soutenir  qu'ils 
m'ont  veue  souvent  au  milieu  des  tenebres,  courir  toute  cschevelee 
et  sans  ceinture,  fouillcr  dans  les  sepulcres  des  morts,  couper  en 
murmurant  des  herbes  empoisonnees,  chcrcher  des  serpents  sous  les 
mines  des  vieux  palais,  obscurcir  le  tein  de  la  lunc  et  mcttre  toute 
la  nature  dans  le  trouble  et  l'effroy." 


THE    DESTRUCTION-   OF  THE    PALACE   OF   ARMIDE,    IX   THE   OPERA 
BY   QUIXAULT,    MUSIC   OF    LILLY. 

Drawn  by  Be  rain.  1686.  "/•• 


'      THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  I  229 

1657,  taken  from  the  "Grand  Cyrus."  "La  folle 
du  logis  "  had  something  to  whisper  even  in  the  ear 
of  the  sapient  Boileau,  and  there  were  certainly  more 
bells  than  usual  on  her  cap  the  day  when,  under  the 
shape  of  "  Madame  de  M.  and  Madame  de  T.,"  she 
persuaded  him  to  forget  his  grievances  against  the 
opera  and  to  compose  one  himself : — 

"  Poetry.     Well,  then,  ray  sister,  let  us  part. 

Music.     Let  us  part. 

Poetry.     Let  us  part. 

Chorus  of  poets  and  musicians.     Let  us  part,  let  us  part."  ' 

At  the  very  moment  when  classical  art  was  at  its 
zenith,  doubts  as  to  the  value  of  that  style  had 
crossed  certain  minds.  Perrault,  whose  "  Parallele  " 
swarms   with   ingenious   ideas   and   wise   observations 2 

1  We  have  only  a  fragment  of  this  opera,  the  subject  of  which 
was  the  fall  of  Phaethon.  Racine  and  Boileau  worked  together  at 
it  ;  Racine's  verses  have  been  destroved.  Boileau  published  the 
Prologue  which  he  had  composed.  It  is  a  "  disputoison  "  or  strife 
between  Poetry  and  Music. 

2  Here  is  an  example  :  "  Quand  le  comedien  qui  contrefaisoit  le 
cochon  a  Athenes  plut  davantage  au  peuple  que  le  cochon  veritable 
qu'un  autre  comedien  cachoit  sous  son  manteau,  on  crut  que  le 
peuple  avoit  tort,  et  le  peuple  avoit  raison,  parce  que  le  comedien 
qui  representoit  cet  animal  en  avoit  etudie  tous  les  tons  les  plus 
marques  et  les  plus  caracterises  et,  les  ramassant  ensemble,  rem- 
plissoit  davantage  l'idee  que  tout  le  monde  en  a."  This  is  true  of 
all  the  arts.  Instantaneous  photographs  have  fixed  on  paper  move- 
ments or  a  horse's  gallop  that  the  eye  cannot  perceive  ;  painters 
have  thought  they  were  doing  well  in  transferring  the  same  to 
their  canvas,  conforming  thus,  as  they  believed,  to  truth  and  to 
nature  ;  but  the  spectator  stands  perplexed,  the  sight  is  meaningless 
to  him,  and  does  not  arouse  in  his  mind  the  slightest  idea  of 
rapidity. 


230  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

mingled  with  many  paradoxes,  had  expressed  those 
doubts  better  than  any  one  else  in  his  days. 
Art  is  not  so  limited  as  people  pretend,  he  wrote 
as  early  as  1692  :  "  When,  in  ancient  times,  a  traveller 
had  reached  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  he  thought  himself 
at  the  end  of  the  world.  Here  were  Hercules'  pillars, 
there  was  no  going  beyond.  But  the  modern  traveller 
will  never  be  stopped  by  the  thought  that,  arrived  at 
those  pillars,  he  is  at  his  journey's  end  ;  he  is  only 
just  beginning  it,  he  crosses  the  ocean  and  passes  into 
a  new  world  more  spacious  than  the  one  he  has  left."  l 
As  years  go  by,  the  claims  of  dramatic  art  to  extension 
become  more  and  more  definite  ;  they  are  supported, 
however,  by  a  minority.  The  spirit  of  the  independents 
of  the  early  seventeenth  century  reappears  at  the  begin-t/' 
ning  of  the  eighteenth.  Boyer  protests,  in  the  very 
terms  used  formerly  by  Schelandre,  against  the  excessive 
refining  of  the  language  :  "  The  French  language, 
enervated  and  impoverished  by  refiners,  always  timid 
and  always  the  slave  of  rules  and  customs,  never 
allows  itself  the  slightest  licence  and  admits  no  happy 
temerities."  He  praises,  like  d'Urfe,  the  merits  of 
blank  verse  :  the  English  language  "  has  a  sort  of 
measured  prose,  which,  being  limited  to  a  certain 
number  of  feet  composed  of  long  and  short  syllables, 
sustains  itself  without  the  feeble  support  of  the  rhymes' 
jingle."     This  prose  "  is  called  blank  verse."  2 

1  "  Parallele  dcs  Anciens  ct  dcs  Modernes  .  .  .  dialogues  par 
M.  Pcrrault  de  l'Academie  Francoise,"  Paris,  1688,  4  vols.,  1 20, 
vol.  Hi.,  1692,  p.  227. 

'  Preface  to  "  Caton,  tragedie  par  M.  Addison,"  London,  I  7 1  3 . 
This   translation  appeared  shortly  before  the   "Caton  d'Utiquc"  of 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  I 


2M 


La  Motte-Houdard,  a  few  years  later,  goes  much 
farther  still.  He  openly  declares  war  on  rules,  verses, 
narratives,  confidants,  and  nearly  all  received  ideas  : 
"  To  establish  the  necessity  [of  the  unity  of  place]  it  is 
vainly  alleged  that  the  spectators,  being  themselves 
stationary,  cannot  imagine  that  the  actors  change  from 
place  to  place  :  but  what  then,  do  those  spectators,  for 
knowing  that .  they  are  in  reality  at  the  theatre,  trans- 
port themselves  less  easily  to  Athens  or  to  Rome, 
where  live  and  move  the  heroes  shown   to   them  ? " 

An  unwarrantable  use,  according  to  the  same  La 
Motte,  is  made  of  the  coulisse ;  all  actions  and  sights 
worth  seeing  are  dismissed  from  the  boards  and  take 
place  behind  the  scenes  :  "  Most  of  our  plays  are  only 
dialogues  and  narratives,  and  what  is  astonishing,  is 
that  the  very  action  by  which  the  author  was  struck, 
and  which  decided  the  choice  of  his  subject,  always 
takes  place  behind  the  scenes.  The  English  have  a 
quite  opposite  taste  ;  people  say  they  carry  it  to  excess, 
which  is  very  possible  "  ;  for  certain  kinds  of  action 
must,  after  all,  be  excluded  from  the  stage,  on  account 
of  "  the  horror  of  the  objects  represented."  l 

F.  Deschamps,  Paris,  171  5.     At  the  end  of  Deschamps'  drama  we 
see  Portia,  anxious  to  die  on  the  stage,  but  restraining  herself: — 

"  Caton  n'est  plus.      Helas  !   pour  comble  de  malheur, 
Je  ne  saurois  sans  crime  expirer  de  douleur." 

The  "  Mercure  Galant  "  published  a  comparative  study  of  the 
two  plays  and  placed  Deschamps'  far  above  Addison's,  promising 
the  English,  however,  a  fair  dramatic  future  if  they  observed  rules 
and  abstained  from  "  certaines  bassesses  que  les  poetcs  grecs  n'ont 
pas  assez  evitees."     Number  of  March,  17  15. 

1  "Discours  sur  la  Tragedie,  a  l'occasion  des  Machabees.  ...  A 
l'occasion  de  Romulus"  (performed  1721,  1722),  "  CEuvres,"  Paris 


232  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

An  easy  matter  it  was  for  theorists  to  talk  ; 
dramatists  did  not  find  their  own  path  so  smooth  ;  they 
had  to  deal  with  a  public  that  the  greatest  geniuses 
of  the  nation  had  rendered  exacting,  that  came  in 
crowds  to  the  performances  of  "Athalie,"1  that 
clamoured  no  doubt  for  novelty  (for  without  novelty 
the  stage  dies),  but  forbade  the  discarding  of  rules.  It 
laughed  at  La  Motte,  who  had  tried  to  join  example 
to  precept,  and  had  written  an  "  CEdipe  "  in  prose  ; 
anything  rather  than  such  platitude,  was  the  cry  on 
all  sides  ;  give  us  back  our  rules  ;  "  qu'on  nous  ramene 
aux  carrieres !  "  In  some  English  plays,  writes 
Destouches,  a  propos  of  the  "  Tempest,"  there  is 
"  perpetual  magic.  And  what  incidents  cannot  be 
brought  about  by  the  force  of  magic  ?  How  happy 
we  should  be  in  France,  we  comic  authors,  if  we  could 
be  permitted  to  use  so  convenient  an  art  !  .  .  .  But 
as  soon  as  we  want  to  take  our  imagination  as  our 
guide,  we  are  hissed  unmercifully.  .  .  .  'Tis  the  taste 
of  the  nation,  it  will  have  nothing  but  truth  ;  all  that 
swerves  from  truth  is  rejected  and  hooted  without 
pity."  2 

1754,  ten  vols.,  vol.  iv.  Victor  Hugo  rinding,  a  century  later,  the 
dispute  at  the  same  point,  says  also  :  "Nous  nc  voyons  en  quelque 
sorte  sur  le  theatre  que  les  coudes  de  Taction,  ses  mains  sont 
ailleurs."      Preface   to  "  Cromwell.'' 

1  "  Le  17  Dec.  (1739)  il  y  cut  tant  de  monde  a  la  representation 
d'  'Athalie,'  et  le  theatre  ct  le  parterre  sc  trouverent  si  excessivement 
remplis  que  la  piece,  se  trouvant  a  chaque  instant  intcrrompuc  par 
le  tumulte,  ne  put  etre  achevec."  De  Mouhy,  "  Abrege  de 
l'Histoire  du  Theatre,"  Paris,  1780,  vol.  iii.,  p.  38  (the  first  public 
performance  of  "Athalie"  had  taken  place  in  171 6). 

2  "  Scenes  Anglaises  "  (Dcdicace).  These  scenes  are  taken  from 
the  "  Tempest,"  as  remodelled  by  Dryden  and  Davenant,  and  embel- 


AX   UNPOPULAR   AUTHOR.      "  L'AL'TECR  SIULE."  [p.  2$$. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  C  EXT  CRY    PART  I  235 

The  foremost  tragic  author  in  France,  at  the  opening 
of  the  century  was  Qrebillon,  who  studied  to  satisfy  the 
public  in  its  desire  to  be  moved  according  to  rule,  but 
by  means  either  new,  or  supposed  to  be  new.  He 
succeeded  very  well,  limited  to  the  required  twenty- 1 
four  hours  his  appalling  medleys  of  love  and  bloodshed! 
reigned  by  terror,  and  lived  long  enough  to  be  the  hero^, 
and  god  of  the. radical  reformers  of  the  drama  in  the 
second  half  of  the  century.  Youthful  literary  revolu- 
tionists came  to  consult  him  as  an  oracle  in  his  dilapidated 
temple  :  "  I  was  nineteen  years  old,"  wrote  Merrier, 
"  and  in  those  days  the  fame  of  Crebillon,  the  tragic 
poet,  was  at  its  height.  People  opposed  him  to  Vol- 
taire, for  the  public  ever  seeks  to  find  a  rival  to  every 
illustrious  man,  and  balancing  them  one  against  the 
other,  thus  rids  itself  of  a  too-considerable  weight  of 
esteem.  .  .  .  He  lived  in  the  Marais,  rue  des  Douze- 
Portes.  I  knocked  :  immediately  the  barking  of  fifteen 
or  twenty  dogs  was  heard  ;  they  surrounded  me,  open- 
mouthed,  and  accompanied  me  to  the  poet's  room. 
The  staircase  was  filled  with  awful  signs  of  their 
presence.  I  entered,  announced  and  escorted  by  them. 
I  beheld  a  room  with  bare  walls  ;  a  pallet,  two  stools, 
and  seven  or  eight  torn  and  dilapidated  arm  chairs, 
composed  all  the  furniture.  .  .  .  The  dogs  had  seated 
themselves  upon  all  the  arm  chairs  and  growled  in 
chorus.  The  old  man,  his  legs  and  head  bare,  his 
bosom  uncovered,  was  smoking  a  pipe.  He  had  large 
blue    eyes,    spare    white    hair,    a    phvsiognomv   full    of 

lished  according  to  the   taste  of  the  times  :   role  of  the  youth  who 
has  never  seen  a  woman. 


236  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

expression.  He  silenced  his  dogs,  not  without  trouble, 
and,  whip  in  hand,  made  them  yield  one  of  the  arm 
chairs  to  me.  He  removed  his  pipe  from  his  mouth 
as  if  to  salute  me,  and  began  to  smoke  again  with  a 
delectation  which  was  depicted  on  his  strongly  cha- 
racterised features. 

"  The  dogs  were  uttering  low  growls,  showing  their 
teeth  at  me.  The  poet  at  last  put  down  his  pipe.  I 
asked  him  when  '  Cromwell '  would  be  finished.  '  It 
is  not  yet  begun,'  he  replied."  (The  play  had  been 
expected  forty  years.) 

"  I  begged  him  to  recite  some  lines  of  his  own.  He 
said  he  would  do  so  after  a  second  pipe." 

The  poet  smokes.  He  finishes  his  second  pipe. 
"  He  put  down  his  second  pipe  and  then  recited  to  me 
some  very  obscure  lines  from  I  know  not  what  romantic 
tragedy  he  had  composed  from  memory,  and  which  he 
recited  from  memory,  too.1  I  understood  nothing  of 
the  subject  or  the  plan  of  his  tragedy.  His  lines  con- 
tained a  great  many  imprecations  against  the  gods,  and 
especially  against  kings,  whom  he  disliked.   .   .    . 

"  The  poet  having  recited  his  lines,  did  nothing  but 
smoke.  I  rose,  the  dogs  rose  too,  resumed  their  bark- 
ing, and  accompanied  me  thus  to  the  street  door.  The 
poet  only  reprimanded  them  gently  ;  tenderness  shone 
through  his  rebukes."  2 

'  As  was  his  custom.  His  memory  was  prodigious,  he  composed 
whole  tragedies  without  writing  a  line  of  them.  When  he  had  to 
read  his  "  Catilina "  to  the  French  comedians  he  produced  no 
manuscript,  but  recited  his  tragedy  from  memory. 

2  Mercier,  "Tableau  de  Paris,"  vol.  x.  (1788),  chap.  774  ;  the 
visit  to  Crebillon  took  place  in   1759. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  237 

The  thirst  for  novelty  and  the  respect  for  rules 
appears  as  well  on  the  comic  as  on  the  tragic  stage. 
The  great  innovator  in  comedy  was  then  La_Chaussee, 
who  had  reversed  Boileau's  famous  maxim  on  the  anta- 
gonism between  comedy  and  tears — 

"  Le  comique,  ennemi  des  soupirs  et  des  pleurs." 

His  plays_are  nothing  hut-sighs^aniLtears.  The  English 
works  which  his  friend  the  Abbe  Le  Blanc  had  inter- 
preted to  him,  had  shown  him  the  way  ;  it  was  edged  with 
cypresses ;  he  followed  it,  and  many  others  followed  it  with 
him.  Richardson's  novels  were  the  rage,  Pamela  was  the 
heroine  of  the  day.  La  Chaussee  drew  from  the  novel 
one  play,  by  no  means  his  best,  and  Voltaire  another. 
English  domestic  comedies  found  enthusiastic  translators  : 
"  Away,  exclaims  one  of  these,  away,  minute  wits,  not 
so  delicate  as  finical  and  frivolous  ;  dry  and  ungrateful 
hearts,  lost  in  debauchery  and  in  reflections.  You  are 
not  made  for  the  pleasure  of  shedding  tears."  l  The 
age  of  sensibility_was  beginning  ;  Rousseau  was  yet  un- 
known, but  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  expected.  Colle 
read    the    drama   thus    announced    to   the  public,   and 


1  Preface  to  the  "  Marchand  de  Londres,  ou  l'histoire  de 
George  Barnwell,  tragedie  bourgeoise,  traduite  de  l'anglais  de 
M.  Lillo,"  by  M.  [P.  Clement],  Paris,  174.8,  12°.  The  work 
was  placed  under  the  patronage  of  the  Abbe  Prevost.  "  The  London 
Merchant,  or  the  History  of  George  Barnwell,"  in  prose,  1730,  had 
had  in  London  such  a  success,  and  was  held  in  such  esteem,  that  its 
performance  was  recommended  for  periods  of  the  year  when  Young 
men  most  frequent  the  theatres,  on  account  of  its  great  moralising 
influence.  "The  Companion  to  the  Play  House,"  London,  1764, 
vol.  i.,  Appendix.      See  below,  p.  320,  note  1. 


238  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

wrote  in  his  journal  :  "  I  have  also  read  the  translation 
of  [Barnwell]  ...  it  moved  me  to  tears.  What 
scenes  are  that  of  the  assassination  of  the  uncle,  and  that 
of  the  two  friends  in  the  prison  !  What  truth,  what 
warmth,  what  interest  !  It  is  withal  a  very  badly 
written  play.  There  is,  however,  a  great  deal  of  genius 
and  wit  in  it."  J 

The  reader  is  thus  tossed  about  in  opposite  directions  : 
What  lack  of  art  !  What  genius  !  As  for  the  spectator, 
one  could  not  be  too  prudent  with  him.  Of  his  two 
desires,  the  desire  to  see  rules  respected  remained  the 
liveliest.  The  instant  rules  were  too  openly  infringed  he 
noisily  revolted  ;  before  condemning  the  innovators  of 
that  time  for  their  timidity,  we  must  remember  the 
playgoer's  state  of  mind.  All  dramatic  authors  knew 
it  by  experience  :  the  translator  of  "  Barnwell  "  dared 
not  even  print  the  end  of  the  play.2 

Destouches  seeks  among  English  dramas  the  one 
which  comes  nearest  to  ours,  "  it  is  by  the  late  M. 
Addison."  3     In  London  the  lines  in  the  picture  were 


1  "Journal,"  November,  1748,  ed.  H.  Bonhomme,  1868,  3  vols.  8°. 

2  "  La  plume  me  tombe  de  la  main.  Les  scenes  suivantes  re- 
presented le  lieu  de  i'execution  ;  on  y  voit  la  potence,  le  bourreau, 
la  populace,  &c.  Milvoud  meurt  en  enragee  ct  Barnwell  en  saint." 
The  French  independents  of  yore  had  however  offered  such  sights 
to  view.  A  scene  on  the  scaffold  is  in  Schelandre's  "  Tyr,"  1608. 
See  above,  p.  74. 

3  "  Le  Tambour  nocturne,  Comedic  Angloise,"  printed  in  1736, 
performed  in  1762  ;  taken  from  "The  Drummer,  or  the  Haunted 
House,"  of  Addison,  171 5.  "The  reader,"  Steele  writes  in  his 
preface  to  Addison's  play,  "  will  sec  many  beauties  that  escape  the 
audience,  the  touches  being  too  delicate  for  every  taste  in  a  popular 
assembly."      Petitot  thought  (but  wrongly)  that  he    had   discovered 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  241 

judged  not  deeply  drawn  enough,  and  the  play  met 
with  little  success  ;  in  Paris,  Destouches  attenuates  those 
lines,  and  fearing  lest  they  still  seem  too  marked,  he  does 
not  venture  to  have  the  play  performed.  It  was  given 
only  after  his  death  in  1762,  and  succeeded  thanks 
to  the  progress  made  by  the  spirit  of  reform. 


IV. 

For  this  public  and  in  this  milieu  writes  the  great 
innovator,  the  most  active  revolutionist  of  the  century, 
the  author  of  the  "  Lettres  Anglaises,"  Voltaire.  To 
him  nothing  is  more  beautiful,  more  holy,  more  sacred 
than  literary  art,  and  in  literary  art  than  dramatic 
art.  He  cannot  exist  without  a  theatre  ;  wherever  he 
goes  he  builds  one,  forms  troupes,  plays  himself  in  his 
own  plays,  on  his  "  little  green  and  gold  theatre  "  ; 
while  his  niece,  the  fat  Madame  Denis,  appears  as 
Idame  or  Zaire.  In  his  enthusiasm  for  all  that  is  his, 
Voltaire  considers  her  as  another  Clairon.1      He  invites 

an  imitation  of  "  Timon  "  in  "  Le  Dis^pateur,"  of  Destouches. 
The  "Drummer"  was  also  translated  by  Descazeaux  Desgranges  : 
"La  pretendue  Veuve  ou  l'Epoux  magicien,"  in  verse,  Paris,  1737. 
1  Marmontel  went  to  see  him  at  the  Delices  (close  by  the  Lake 
of  Geneva,  where  he  lived  before  he  built  Ferney),  and  gave  him  a 
glowing  account  of  the  fame  won  for  herself  of  late  by  Clairon  : 
"J'epuisai  le  peu  que  j'avais  d'eloquence  a  lui  inspirer  pour  Clairon 
cet  enthousiasme  dont  j'etais  plein  moi  meme  ;  je  jouissais,  en  lui 
parlant,  de  l'emotion  que  je  lui  causais,  lorsque  enfin,  prenant  la 
parole  :  '  Eh  !  bien,  mon  ami,  me  dit-il  avec  transport,  c'est  comme 
Madame  Denis  ;  elle  a  fait  des  progres  etonnants,  incroyables.  Je 
voudrais  que  vous  lui  vissiez  jouer  Zaire,  Alzire,  Idame  !  le  talent 
ne   va  pas   plus  loin.'      Madame    Denis    jouant    Zaire  !      Madame 

17 


242  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FKAXCE 

actors  to  visit  him  and  gives  them  lessons  in  declama- 
tion :  "  To  him  [Voltaire]  I  owe  the  first  notions  of 
my  art,"  writes  Le  Kain.1  Voltaire  congratulates  the 
English  on  having  laid  two  of  their  actresses  to  rest 
in  Westminster,2  when  there  was  certainly  no  question 
of  opening  to  French  ones  the  vaults  of  Saint  Denis  ; 
he  admires  the  noble  conduct  of  a  "  gentleman  of  your 
country  [England],  who  enjoys  fortune  and  considera- 
tion, and  who  has  not  disdained  to  play  upon  your 
stage  the  part  of  Orosmane."  3  The  least  performance, 
organised  with  his  guests,  seems  to  him  an  event  of 
mighty  importance ;  he  makes  it  known  to  all  Europe. 
Rebellious  to  hostile  criticism,  he  hastens  to  take  advan- 
tage of  friendly  advice  ;  he  discusses,  remodels,  experi- 
ments :  "  I  have  not  the  stiffness  of  mind  that  goes 
with  old  age  ;  I  am  as  flexible  as  an  eel,  as  quick  as 
a  lizard,  and  always  as  busy  as  a  squirrel.  No  sooner 
is  any  mistake  of  mine  pointed  out  to  me,  that  I  hasten 
to  remove  it  and  put  another  in  its  place."  4 

Dramatic  art  has  for  Voltaire  something  almost 
divine  ;  its  perfection  matters  to  the  State  ;  a  tragedy 
does  more  good  than  a  sermon  :  "  A  mage,"  relates 
his  Babouc,  "  appeared  in   a  high  machine,  and  talked 

Denis  comparec  a  Clairon  !  Jc  tombai  de  mon  haut."  He  took 
Marmontcl  to  his  little  "  gentilhommiere "  of  Tornay,  hard  by: 
"La  jc  vis  cc  petit  theatre  qui  tourmentait  Rousseau  et  oil  Voltaire 
sc  consolait  de  ne  plus  voir  eclui  qui  etait  encore  plein  de  sa  gloirc." 
(Marmontcl   "  Memoires,"   Bk.  vii.) 

1  "  Memoires  .  .  .  precedes  de  reflexions  par  F.  Talma,"  Paris, 
1825,  8°,  p.  427. 

-'  First  "Epitre  dedicatoire"  of  "  Zaire,"  to  Falkencr,  1733. 

3  Second  "Epitre  dedicatoire,"  1736. 

*   To  d'Argental,  October  22,  1759  (a  propos  of  "  Tancrede  "). 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  243 

very  long  about  vice  and  virtue.  .  .  .  He  proved 
methodically  everything  that  was  clear,  he  taught 
everything  one  knew.  He  worked  himself  coollv  into 
a  passion,  and  went  off  perspiring  and  breathless.  The 
whole  assemblv  then  woke  up  and  thought  they  had 
attended  an  instruction."  A  tragedy  is  given  ;  great 
personages  figure  in  it  :  "  Their  language  was  very 
different  from  the  people's  ;  it  was  measured,  har- 
monious, and  sublime.  No  one  slept.  .  .  .  The 
duties  of  kings,  the  love  of  virtue,  the  danger  of 
passions  were  expressed  in  a  fashion  so  lively  and 
touching  that  Babouc  shed  tears.  He  did  not  doubt 
but  that  the  heroes  and  heroines,  the  kings  and  queens 
he  had  just  heard  were  the  preachers  of  the  empire."  1 
Everything  that  touches  the  drama  has  a  sacred  and 
salutarv  character  ;  histrionic  art  cannot  be  too  much 
encouraged  :  "  There  are  more  than  twenty  houses  in 
Paris  where  tragedies  and  comedies  are  represented. 
...  It  is  hard  to  believe  how  useful  that  amusement 
which  demands  much  care  and  attention  reallv  is  ;  it 
forms  the  taste  of  the  young,  gives  gracefulness  to  the 
body  and  to  the  mind,  contributes  to  the  talent  of 
speech  ;  it  diverts  young  men  from  debaucherv  bv 
accustoming  them  to  the  pure  pleasures  of  the  mind."  2 
Voltaire  busied  himself  with  every  branch  of  literarv 
art,  cultivated  every  science,  spoke  foreign  tongues, 
made  himself  an  opinion  on  every  subject  and  forced 
it  upon  others  ;  changed,  and  wanted  others  to  change 
too  ;    gave   cause    for    admiration    and    for    laughter  ; 

1  "  Le  monde  comme  il  va,  ou  Vision  dc  Babouc,"  1746. 

2  "  Le  Temple  du  Gout  "  (note). 


244  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

carried  on  innumerable  wars,  and  was  the  author  or 
the  subject  of  innumerable  epigrams.  Of  him  it  was 
said  :  "  His  sign  is  '  The  Encyclopaedia.'  What  will 
you  have  ?  English,  Tuscan,  verse,  prose,  algebra, 
opera,  comedy  ?  Epic  poems,  history,  odes,  or  novels  ? 
Speak,  and  it  is  done.  You  give  him  a  year  ?  You 
insult  him.  In  three  or  four  evenings,  subjects  spoilt 
by  the  elder  Corneille,  subjects  filled  by  proud  Crebillon, 
he  recasts  everything.   .    .    ." 

"  Son  cnscignc  est  a  l'encyclopcdie, 
Ouc  vous  plait-il  ?  dc  l'anglais,  du  toscan  ? 
Vers,  prose,  algebre,  opera,  comedic, 
Poemc  epique,  histoire,  ode  ou  roman  ? 
Parlez,  e'est  fait.     Vous  lui  donncz  un  an  ? 
Vous  l'insultez.      En  trois  ou  quatre  veilles, 
Sujets  rates  par  l'ainc  des  Corneilles, 
Sujets  remplis  par  lc  fier  Crebillon, 
II  refond  tout.  .   .  ." 

He  resumes,  remodels,  contradicts,  attacks  generally 
received  ideas,  proposes  others,  all  in  an  instant  ;  he 
lives  in  a  whirl  :  he  would  have  liked  to  remake  the 
world,  and  remake  it  in  less  than  a  week  : — 

"II  cut  voulu  refaire  l'univers 
Et  lc  refaire  en  moins  d'unc  semaine."  ' 

Dramatic  art  cannot  continue  in  the  same  narrow 
groove  ;  such  is  the  universal  opinion.  Voltaire 
knows  the  masterpieces  of  foreign   literatures  ;  he  has 

1  Epigrams  by  Piron  (Colic  "Journal,"  1805,  i.  155,  187).  Last 
lines  of  the  first  of  those  epigrams  : — 

"  II  refund  tout. — Pcste,  voici  merveillc  ! 
Et  la  besogne  est  ellc  bonne? — Oh  !    non." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  245 

no  superstitious  respect  for  the  Romans,  the  Greeks, 
the  Italians,  or  for  anybody  :  "  One  cannot  discuss 
matters  of  taste,"  he  says,  "  but  certainly  such  scenes 
(in  Euripides'  '  Alcestis  ')  would  not  be  suffered  here 
even  at  the  fair."  I  He  is  a  revolutionist  to  the  core  ; 
it  would  be  in  no  wise  displeasing  to  him  to  "  remake 
the  universe." 

Writing  for  the  stage,  thus  armed  and  at  such  a 
moment,  contrary  to  expectation,  he  upsets  nothing  ; 
he  is  prudent  ;  he  is  seized  with  fear.  He  has  to  deal 
with  an  art  so  holy  in  his  eyes  that  his  hand  hesitates. 
This  audacious  reformer  becomes  circumspect  ;  he 
cannot  turn  aside  from  the  high-road  without  trem- 
bling. He  will  go  and  attack  God  on  His  altars  with- 
out fear  of  hell,  nor  even  of  the  Bastille — less  remote  ; 
but  the  idea  that  it  might  be  possible  to  renounce 
alexandrines  makes  him  shudder  ;  2  he  -veils  his  face, 
he   protests  against   the   impiety   of   La    Motte  :  3   he 

1  "DictionhairePhilosophique,""AnciensetModernes."  Euripides 
and  Sophocles  have  "  des  beautes  "  ;  but  "  ils  ont  de  bien  plus 
grands  defauts."  The  "farceur  Aristophane "  is  very  roughly 
handled. 

2  The  mere  choice  of  names  had  the  same  importance  in 
Voltaire's  eyes  as  in  Boileau's  (Commentary  on  Corneille's 
"Attila").  He  was  even  shocked  at  the  familiarities  of  Bossuet  : 
"  L'eloquent  Bossuet  voulait  bien  raver  quelques  familiarites 
echappees  a  son  genie  vaste,  impetueux  et  facile,  lesquelles  deparent 
un  peu  la  sublimite  de  ses  oraisons  funebres  "  ("  Temple  du  Gout  "). 

3  Preface  to  "  CEdipe  "  ;  first  edition  of  the  play,  17 19,  of  the 
preface,  1730  (Bengesco).  He  has  recourse  also  to  the  theological 
argument  of  "  universal  testimony "  :  "  Toutes  les  nations  com- 
mencent  a  regarder  comme  barbares  les  temps  ou  cette  pratique 
[of  the  rules]  etait  ignoree  des  plus  grands  genies,  tels  que  Don 
Lope  de  Vega  et  Shakespeare  "  {Ibid.). 


246  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

cannot  view  the  sacrilegious  deed.  He  will  forgive  his 
friends  any  sins  they  please,  but  never  a  tragedy  in 
prose.  That,  in  his  eyes,  is  the  sin  against  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  sin  for  which  there  is  no  remission.  Unities 
to  him  have  a  super-human  character  ;  he  speaks  of 
them  as  a  theologian  speaks  of  the  ten  commandments  ; 
nothing  can  be  more  dangerous  than  to  compound 
with  such  laws  :  one  may  extend,  at  most,  "  the  unity  of 
time  as  far  as  twenty-four  hours,  and  the  unity  of  place 
to  the  enclosure  of  an  entire  palace  .  .  .  further  in- 
dulgence would  open  the  way  to  too  many  abuses. 
For,  if  once  it  were  established  that  the  dramatic  action 
could  take  place  in  two  days,  soon  some  author  would 
be  taking  two  weeks.  .  .  .  We  should  see,  in  a  short 
time,  plays  like  the  ancient  '  Julius  Cassar  '  of  the 
English,  where  Cassius  and  Brutus  are  at  Rome  in  the 
first  act,  and  in  Thessaly  at  the  fifth."  ' 

His  keen  glance  has,  however,  discerned  all  the 
points  on  which  reforms  are  necessary  :  monotony  of 
the  verses,  excessive  use  of  love,  absence  of  action, 
superabundance  of  discourses  and  narratives,  lack  of 
movement,  the  most  striking  scenes  taking  place  in  the 
coulisses,  exorbitant  respect  for  the  rules  of  decency 
and  "all  those  petty  trifles  which  in  France  are  called 
bi  en  seances."  -  For  each  of  these  articles,  without 
exception,  he  proposes  reforms,  but  limits  himself  to 
the  most  modest,  to  those  which  depart  least  from  the 
ancient  ideal.      He  has  the  timidities  of  a  lover. 

Foreigners    have     tragedies     in     prose ;     never    will 


'    Same  preface  to  "  CEdipc." 

2  To  d'Argental,  a  propos  or  the  "  Ecossaisc,"  July  14,  1760. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  247 

Voltaire  allow  of  prose  in  a  tragedy.  He  remains  the 
staunch  partisan  of  verse,  and  of  rhymed  verse  ;  verses 
without  rhymes  are  nothing  :  "  Blank  verses  cost  only 
the  trouble  of  dictating  them.  It  is  not  more  difficult 
than  to  write  a  letter."  l  There  is,  however,  some 
truth,  he  admits,  in  the  reproaches  addressed  to 
alexandrines  ;  an  innovation  is  possible  ;  he  risks  it, 
but  with  what  anxiety  !  He  composes,  later  in  lite, 
"  Tancrede"  in  alternate  rhymes,  and  savs  :  "  This  kind 
of  poetry  escapes  from  the  uniformity  of  the  symmetric 
rhyme,  but  that  stvle  of  writing  is  dangerous  .  .  .  and 
the  kind  of  verse  I  have  employed  in  '  Tancrede  ' 
comes  perhaps  too  near  to  prose."  2  He  is  struck  by 
the  number  of  personages  Shakespeare  puts  on  the 
stage  :  thirty  -  nine  in  "  Richard  III.,"  forty  in 
"  Henry  V.,"  twenty-eight  in  "  Macbeth,"  without 
counting,  "  lords,  gentlemen,  officers,  soldiers,  mur- 
derers, attendants  and  messengers,  ghost  of  Banquo  and 
other  apparitions "  (whereas  Racine  had  only  seven 
characters  in  "  Britannicus  "  and  "  Bajazet,"  and  eight  in 
"  Andromaque "  and  "Phedre").  All  this  Shake- 
spearean population  moves  and  acts  with  extraordinary 
independence  ;  Voltaire  could  not  think  of  taking  such 
liberties.  He  only  aspires  to  "  introducing  more  than 
three  persons  talking  together,"  and  to  representing,  if 
need  be,  murder  on  the  stage  ;  for,  he  remarks  somewhat 
apprehensively,  "  it  is  not  with  the  rules  of  bienscance, 


1  Preface  to  the  translation  of  "Julius  Ccesar  "  (translation  written 
to  show  the  superiority  of  "  Cinna  "). 

2  Dedicace    to    Madame    de    Pompadour,    Fernev,    October    10, 


248  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

always  rather  arbitrary,  as  with  the  fundamental  rules 
of  the  stage,  which  are  the  three  unities."  * 

Voltaire  felt,  and  with  reason,  some  doubts  as  to 
the  welcome  these  modest  attempts  would  receive  : 
they  still  revolted  the  public.  He  tried  in  vain,  in 
1724,  to  make  Mariamne  die  on  the  stage:  "The 
death  of  Mariamne,"  he  himself  wrote,  "  who  at  the 
first  performance  was  poisoned  and  expired  on  the 
stage,  revolted  the  spectators.  ...  I  might  have  held 
out  on  that  last  point  .  .  .  but  I  would  not  go 
against  the  taste  of  the  public."  This  is  why  Herod, 
in  the  revised  text,  says  to  his  wife,  "  Go  ! "  and 
remains  on  the  stage  until  Narbas  comes  to  narrate  in 
classical  style  the  circumstances  of  Mariamne's  death  : — 

"  Aux  larmes  dcs  Hebreux,  Mariamne  sensible, 
Consolait  tout  ce  peuple  en  marchant  au  trepas  ; 
Enfin  vers  1'echafaud  on  a  conduit  ses  pas,"  &c,  &c. 

She  dies  far  from   sight,  "  par  le   fer,"  instead   of  by 
poison.2 

Nevertheless,  the  effect  of  contact  makes  itself  felt, 
for  the  contact  is  incessant.  Voltaire  is  much  more 
preoccupied  with  Shakespeare  than  he  will  admit  ;  the 
English  dramatist  is  oftener  in  his  thoughts  than  he  will 

1  Preface  to  "  Brutus,"  first  ed.,  173  1  ;  first  performance,  Decem- 
ber 1 1,  1730. 

2  In  order  to  fully  understand  the  slow  evolution  of  dramatic 
taste,  compare  the  style  used  on  the  occasion  of  a  similar  cata- 
strophe by  one  of  the  French  independents  of  former  years. 
Agrippina  and  her  adversary  Sejanus,  in  Cyrano's  tragedy  of 
"Agrippine,"  are  both  sent  to  the  block  by  Tiberius.  There  is 
no  narrative,  and  though  the  execution  takes  place  out  of  sight,  it 
may  be  doubted   whether  the  actual   view  of  the  scaffold  on   the 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  249 

acknowledge,  and  yet,  on  many  occasions  he  mentions 
his  name,  if  only  to  condemn  him,  to  boast  of  the 
dissimilarity  between  Shakespeare  and  himself,  and  to 
render  thanks  to  the  god  of  letters  for  the  same.  The 
monster  scares  and  attracts  him  at  the  same  time. 

In  "  Brutus,"  begun  in  England  at  a  time  when  he 
had  "  almost  become  accustomed  to  think  in  English,"  r 
and  was  so  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  place  that  one 
could  observe  in  his  play  "  republican  ideas  as  if  he  had 
been  still  living  in  London," 2  he  introduces  lively 
scenes  ;  shows  a  crowd  on  the  stage  ;  and  even  risks  one 
of  those  changes  of  place,  from  one  part  of  a  town  to 
another,  for  which  Corneille  had  had  to  do  penance  and 
offer  excuses  :  ancient  liberty  was  awakening  once  more. 
"  The  stage  represents  a  part  of  the  consuls'  house  on 
Tarpeian  mount  ;  the  temple  of  the  Capitol  is  seen  in 
the  background.  The  senators  are  assembled  between 
the  temple  and  the  house,  before  the  altar  of  Mars. 
(Act  I.) — The  stage  represents,  or  is  supposed  to  re- 
stage  would  be  more  impressive  than  the  few  pregnant  words 
exchanged,  as  the  curtain  falls,  by  Tiberius  and  his  man  : — 

"  Nerva.      Cesar  ! 

Tiberius.  Nerva  ? 

Nerva.  J'ai  vu  la  catastrophe 

D'une  femme  sans  peur,  d'un  soldat  philosophe   .   .   . 
Et  deja  le  bourreaux  qui  les  ont  menaces.   .   .   . 
Tiberius.   Sont  ils  morts  ?     Tous  les  deux  r 
Nerva.  Ils  sont  morts. 

Tiberius.  C'est  assez. 

{The  curtain  falls.)" 

1  "Dicours  a  mylord  Bolingbroke  "  (prefacing  "  Brutus  "). 

2  "  Des  traits  republicans,  comme  s'il  avait  encore  ete  a  Londres," 
Marais  "Journal  et  Memoires,"  letter  of  February  7,  1730. 


250  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

present,  an  apartment  in  the  consuls'  palace."  (Act  II.) 
— This  is  exactly  the  kind  of  sight  that  the  indepen- 
dents had  offered  their  public  a  hundred  years  before  : 
"  The  Capitol  opens,  in  which  the  Tribunes  come  to 
hold  council. — In  the  distance  is  seen  the  Senate  where 
Amphidius  accuses  Coriolanus  of  treason."  T 

It  is  impossible  to  read  "  Brutus  "  without  thinking 
of  "Julius  Caesar  "  ;  "  Eryphile  "  without  thinking  of 
"  Hamlet  "  ;  or  "  Zaire "  without  remembering 
"  Othello."  2  The  "  Mort  de  Cesar,"  a  play  without 
love,  that  Voltaire  dared  risk  in  public  only  twelve 
years  after  its  composition,  is  directly  imitated  from 
Shakespeare  :  "  Instead  of  translating,"  say  the  publishers 
(in  reality  Voltaire  himself),  "  Shakespeare's  monstrous  i 
work,  he  composed,  after  the  English  manner,  the  ! 
'  Julius  Cassar  '    that    we  are    giving  to  the  public."  3  J 

1  "  Lc  veritable  Coriolan,"  by  Chapoton,  1638;  beginning  of 
Act  IV.,  and  Act  V.,  sc.  5. 

2  Which  Voltaire  does  not  speak  of;  he  contents  himself  with 
attributing  to  an  imitation  of  the  "theatre  anglais  la  hardiesse 
[qu'il]  a  cue  de  mettre  sur  la  scene  les  110ms  de  nos  rois  et  de  nos 
anciennes  families  du  royaume.  II  me  paraft  que  cette  nouveaute 
pourrait  etrc-la  source  d'un  genre  de  tragedie  qui  nous  est  inconnue 
jusqu'ei."  (First  "  Epitre  dedicatoire."  This  style,  as  we  have 
seen,  was  in  no  wise  unknown  in  France,  but  was  in  disfavour. 
"Nous  avons  fait,"  wrote  the  Abbe  Du  Bos,  "  monter  sur  notre 
scene,  lorsqu'ellc  etait  encore  grossiere,  nos  souverains  encore 
vivants  "  ;  it  was  not,  at  all  events,  to  satirise  them,  observed  the 
Abbe,  as  had  been  done  elsewhere,  for  the  French  "respectcnt 
naturellement  leurs  Princes;  ils  font  meme  davantage,  ils  les 
aiment."  This  is  why,  when  they  put  them  on  the  stage,  "  ils 
n'ont  peche  que  par  grossierete."  ("  Reflexions  critiques,"  vol.  i.  ; 
first  edition,  1719.) 

3  "La  Mort  de  Cesar,"  begun  at  Wandsworth  in  1726,  finished 
in   1731,  was  performed  on  private  stages  in    1733   and  1735.      The 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  251 

It  is  a  very  attenuated  English  manner.  Instructed  by 
the  fate  of  Mariamne,  Cassar  does  not  hesitate,  from  the 
first  performance,  to  retire  behind  the  scenes  there  to  be 
murdered  :  "  I  had  rather  die  than  fear  death.  Let 
me  go."     And  he  disappears  in  the  coulisse. 

But  the  coulisse  is,  so  to  speak,  transparent  ;  one  can 
almost  see  what  goes  on  there,  and  one  can,  at  all 
events,   hear  what  is  said  : — 

" Dolabella.  What  clamours,  oh  heavens,  what  cries  are  those 
I  hear?" 

The  conspirators  {behind  the  scenes).  Perish,  expire,  tyrant  !  Have 
courage,  Cassius  ! 

Dolabella.     Ah  !  let  us  fly  to  save  him. 

Cassius  (entering,  a  dagger  in  his  hand).    'Tis  done,  he  is  no  more."  ' 

This  semi-realism  was  doubtless  a  concession  to  what 
Voltaire  called  the  "  English  taste."  Eryphile  dies  in 
the  same  manner  "behind  the  stage,"  but  she  is  heard 
protesting  against  her  fate.  In  "Zaire,"  again,  1732, 
the  heroine  does  not  die  within  sight  of  the  spectators, 
but  she  comes  very  near  indeed  to  doing  so  : — 

"  Orosmane  (running  to  Zaire).  I  am  betrayed  by  you  ;  fall  at 
my  feet,  perjured  one  ! 


first  public  performance  took  place  in  174.3,  "after  the  success  of 
'Merope.'"  (H.  Lion,  "  Les  Tragedies  de  Voltaire,"  Paris,  1895, 
pp.  53  ff.)  In  "Brutus,"  inspired  also  by  "Julius  Cssar,"  we 
still  find  the  ineluctable  lovers'  parts. 

1  "  Dolabella.     Ouelles    clameurs,    6    ciel,    quels     cris     se     font 

entendre  ? 
Les  conjures  (derriere  le  theatre). 

Meurs,  expire,  tyran.     Courage,  Cassius  ! 
Dolabella.       Ah  !  courons  le  sauver. 
Cassius  (qui  entre  en  scene  un  poignard  a  la  main). 

C'en  est  fait,  il  n'est  plus." 


2$2  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

Zaire  (falling  in  the  coulisse).     I  die,  merciful  God  ! 
Orosmane.     Now  am   I  avenged."1 

The  great  principles  were  thus  respected,  but  they 
had  a  very  narrow  escape  ;  the  stage  was  not  flooded 
with  blood,  but  it  received  splashes.  In  "  Adelaide  du 
Guesclin  "  more  audacious  experiments  were  tried  : 
Nemours  appeared  wounded,  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  in 
the  fifth  act  a  cannon  was  fired.  It  was  going  too  far  ; 
at  the  first  performance,  in  1734,  the  cannon  and  the 
arm  in  a  sling  were  hissed  and  the  play  fell.  Voltaire 
was  reproached  with  having  "  armed  himself  with  the 
cleaver  of  the  English  stage,"  and  with  having  pro- 
duced "  gory  imitations  of  that  stage  butcher  called 
Shakespeare."  2 

English  influence,  Shakespeare's  in  particular,  is 
more  apparent  still  in  "  Eryphile,"  1732,  and  in 
"  Semiramis,"  1748;  the  two  plays  turn,  in  fact,  on 
the  same  subject,  taken  up  twice  by  Voltaire,  and 
transported  from  Argos  to  Babylon.  It  can  even  be 
said  that  the  original  place  was  Elsinore,  for  the  story 
is  essentially  that  of  "  Hamlet "  ;  but  Voltaire  had 
not  yet  rid  himself  entirely  of  the  scruples  entertained 
by  La  Fosse,  who  had  made  a  "  Manlius "  out  of  a 
"  Venice  Preserved." 

In  "Semiramis"  an  important  place  is  assigned  to 
scenic  effect  :   "  The  stage  represents  a  vast  peristyle, 

1  "  Orosmane  (courant  a  Zaire). 

C'est  moi  que  tu  trahis  ;  tombe  a  mes  pieds,  parjure  ! 
Zaire  (tombant  dans  la  coulisse). 

Je  me  meurs  !    6  mon  Dieu  ! 
Orosmane.  J'ai  venge  mon  injure." 

2  Colic,  "  Correspondance  inedite,"  cd.  H.  Bonhomme,  Paris, 
1864,  80,  "  Preface  garnie  tie  ses  digressions,"  p.  337. 


=^£~^ 


H    <   a 


—    c 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  I  255 

at  the  further  end  of  which  is  Semiramis's  palace. 
Terraced  gardens  are  raised  above  the  palace.  The 
magi's  temple  is  on  the  right,  and  a  mausoleum  on 
the  left,  ornamented  with  obelisks."  Voltaire  ventures 
changes  of  place  in  the  same  city,  and  even  a  scene- 
shifting  :  "  The  closet  where  Semiramis  was  changes  to 
a  large  salon  magnificently  ornamented."  Unfortun- 
ately, the  old  custom  of  encumbering  the  stage  with 
spectators  still  existed  in  France.  Voltaire  had  already 
protested  against  that  habit  on  the  occasion  of  the 
performance  of  "  Brutus  "  :  "  The  benches  on  the 
stage,  intended  for  the  spectators,  make  the  scene 
narrower  and  render  all  action  nearly  impracticable.  .  .  . 
How  could  we  dare,  in  our  theatres,  to  make,  for 
instance,  the  ghost  of  Pompey  or  the  genius  of  Brutus 
appear  in  the  midst  of  so  many  young  men  who  never 
consider  the  most  serious  things  otherwise  than  as  an 
occasion  for  a  bon  mot?  "  l 

When  "Semiramis"  was  given,  things  remained  as 
they  had  been,  so  that,  says  Marmontel,  "  distracted 
Semiramis  and  the  ghost  of  Ninus  emerging  from  his 
tomb  were  obliged  to  cross  a  dense  row  of  young  fops." 
Voltaire  continued  to  protest,  and  would  no  doubt  have 
done  so  for  ever  if  the  Comte  de  Lauraguais  had  not 
offered  the  French  Comedy  to  take  upon  himself  the 
expenses  resulting  from  the  alteration    of  the  theatre. 

1  Discourse  to  Bolingbroke,  prefacing  "  Brutus."  Madame 
d'Epinay  complains  in  her  Memoirs  of  being  neglected  bv  her 
husband,  whom  she  rarely  saw  at  all,  and  when  she  did,  onlv  at  the 
play  and  at  a  distance,  as  he  was  seated  on  the  stage  :  "  II  ne  soupe 
presque  jamais  chez  lui  et  toutes  les  fois  que  je  1'ai  rencontre 
au  spectacle,  c'etait  toujours  sur  le  theatre."  "  Memoires,"  Paris, 
Charpentier,  i.,  p.  85. 


256  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

The  work  was  done,  and  the  stage  was  freed  in  1759. 
/Voltaire  tendered  his  thanks  to  M.  de  Lauraguais  in 
'  the  preface  of  the  "  Ecossaise  "  ;  the  young  count  was 
unanimously  declared  a  public  benefactor.  Play- 
goers breathed  at  last ;  they  were  surprised  to  think 
they  could  so  long  have  tolerated  such  a  terrible 
inconvenience,  and  it  was  surely  astonishing  enough. 
"  The  effect  is  excellent,"  wrote  Colle  in  his  Journal, 
"  the  theatrical  illusion  is  now  complete  ;  one  no  longer 
sees  Julius  Caesar  ready  to  brush  the  powder  off  a  fop 
seated  in  the  front  row  of  the  theatre,  Mithridates 
expire  in  the  midst  of  all  the  people  of  our  acquaint- 
ance, and  Camille  fall  dead  in  the  coulisse  on  top  of 
Marivaux  and  Saint-Foix."  If  ever  the  need  is  felt  of 
showing  the  forty-three  personages  of  a  Shakespearean 
play,  there  will  be  room  for  them  all  :  "  This  new 
form  of  theatre  opens  to  tragic  authors  new  ways  for 
putting  show,  pomp,  and  more  action  into  their  poems." 
Voltaire  was,  in  fact,  hazarding  the  experiment  of  a 
Shakespearean  drama  and  an  antique  tragedy  fused  into 
one  play  when  he  wrote  "  Semiramis."  The  manner 
of  exciting  emotion  and  the  structure  of  the  play  recall 
both  English  "  Hamlet "  and  Greek  "  CEdipus." 
Terrors  and  horrors,  crimes,  incests,  ghosts,  recognitions, 
vengeances,  mausoleums,  subterranean  passages,  laby- 
rinths are  all  to  be  found  in  "  Semiramis."  Like  the 
future  romantics  for  whom  he  opens  the  way,  Voltaire 
makes  the  most  of  the  mystery  of  tombs  and  the 
terror  of  underground   hiding-places  : — 

"  Du  sein  de  cc  sepulcre  inaccessible  au  mondc  .   .  . 
Les  manes  de  Ninus  et  les  dicux  outrages 
Out  eleve  leurs  voix   .   .   . 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  257 

Au  fond  de  ce  tombeau,  mon  pere  etait  mon  guide  ; 
J'errais  dans  les  detours  de  ce  grand  monument  .   .   . 

Dans  les  horreurs  de  la  profonde  nuit, 
Des  souterrains  secrets  ou  sa  fureur  habile, 
A  tout  evenement,  se  creusait   un  asilc, 
Ont  servi  les  desseins  de  ce  monstre  odieux." 

Semiramis,  assisted  by  Assur,  a  prince  of  the  royal 
blood,  has  poisoned  King  Ninus,  her  husband  (as  in 
"Hamlet");  but,  contrary  to  the  expectation  of  Assur, 
who  counted,  as  it  seems,  upon  the  precedent  of 
Hamlet,  she  has  not  married  her  accomplice,  and 
for  fifteen  years  has  reigned  alone,  to  the  great  dis- 
pleasure of  Assur.  Ninias,  the  son  of  Ninus  and 
Semiramis,  was  to  have  perished,  and  every  one  believes 
him  to  be  dead,  but  he  has  been  spared  (like  CEdipus). 
Grown  to  manhood,  he  saves  the  empire  and  appears 
at  Court  under  the  name  of  Arzaces.  Semiramis  feels 
attracted  towards  the  youth,  and  wants  to  marry  him  ; 
but  Arzaces  prefers,  naturally  enough,  the  amiable 
Azema,  a  young  princess  whom  he  had  delivered  from 
the  hands  of  the  barbarous  Scvthians.  Assur  becomes, 
in  consequence,  jealous  of  Arzaces,  and  Azema  of 
Semiramis. 

The  queen,  meanwhile,  has  lost  (atter  those  fifteen 
years)  her  peace  of  mind,  and  begins  to  feel  the  first  pangs 
of  remorse.  She  complains,  moreover,  of  the  terrors 
caused  her  by  the  ghost  of  the  late  king.  Voltaire, 
taught  by  Shakespeare's  example,  seeks  to  prepare  the 
spectre's  apparition  ;  the  Shakespearean  method  seems 
to  him  ingenious  but  somewhat  vulgar  ;  he  tries  to 
raise  it  to  tragical  dignity.      No  familiar  dialogue  ;  no 

18 


258  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

sentinel  giving  the  pass-word  on  the  terrace  of  Elsinore. 
We  hear  first  a  few  growls  uttered  by  the  ghost  in  its 
tomb.  Arzaces,  left  alone  by  his  companion,  was  busy, 
according  to  the  wont  of  classical  heroes  on  such 
occasions,  making  a  speech  to  himself,  when  he  is 
interrupted  by  the  noise  his  father  is  making  in  the 
mausoleum  : — 

"  Mais  quelle  voix  plaintive  ici  se  fait  entendre  ? 
Du  fond  de  cette  tombe,  un  cri  lugubre,  affreux, 
Sur  mon  front  palissant  fait  dresser  mes  cheveux  ?  " 

Semiramis,  further  on,  relates  her  fears  to  a  con- 
fidant :   she  has  seen  her  husband's  ghost  : — 

"Je  l'ai  vu  ;  ce  n'est  point  une  ombre  passagere 
Ou'enfante  du  sommeil  la  vapeur  mensongere   .   .   . 
Je  veillais   ..." 

The  miscreant  Assur  alone  shrugs  his  shoulders  and 
makes  jokes  in  the  worst  taste  upon  the  phantom, 
"  born  of  fear  and  who  in  its  turn  gives  birth  to  it  "  : — 

"  Oui  naquit  de  la  crainte  et  l'enfante  a  son  tour." 

At  length  the  ghost  comes  forth,  an  audacious  ghost 
indeed,  for  it  does  not  appear  in  the  silent  night,  "  the 
bell  then  beating  one,"  but  in  the  middle  of  the  nuptial 
ceremony,  to  prevent  another  CEdipus  from  marrying 
another  Jocaste.  It  is  "  quite  white,  in  gilt  armour, 
a  sceptre  in  its  hand,  and  a  crown  on  its  head." 
Voltaire  himself  had  assigned  to  it  this  festive  costume.1 

1   To  d'Argcntal,  August  15,  1 748. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  1  259 

"  Ghost.  Thou  wilt  reign,  Arzaces ;  but  crimes  there  are  which 
thou  must  atone  for.   .   .   ."  l 

And  so  on.  Ghost  withdraws  ;  it  does  not 
vanish,  but  goes  back  to  its  place  of  abode,  the  huge 
tomb  which  filled  half  the  stage.  A  letter  written 
by  Ninus  before  his  death  replaces  the  plav  in 
"  Hamlet,"  and  serves  to  make  the  guilt  of  the  queen 
manifest.  Arzaces,  however,  like  Hamlet,  is  loth  to 
kill  her,  and  turns  his  fury  against  Assur.  The  final 
catastrophe  takes  place  far  from  our  sight,  amid  the 
windings  of  the  sepulchral  labyrinth  which  becomes 
in  the  last  act  a  general  meeting-place.  We  see  the 
people  as  they  walk  out  of  it,  one  by  one.  Arzaces 
comes  first,  his  sword  red  with  blood  ;  he  has  vaguelv 
discerned  his  enemy  "  in  a  darksome  recess,  near  a 
column,"  and  has  killed  him.  He  does  not  drag  his 
corpse  on  to  the  stage,  though  he  would  have  liked  to 
do  so  ;   the  groans  and  sighs  of  the  mortallv  wounded 


1  "  L 'Ombre.  Tu  regneras,  Arzace, 

Mais  il  est  des  forfaits  que  tu  dois  expier, 
Dans  ma  tombe,  a  ma  cendre,  il  faut  sacrifier, 
Sers  et  ton  pere  et  moi  ;  souviens  toi  de  ton  pere, 
Ecoute  le  pontife. 
Arxace.  Ombre  que  je  revere, 

Demi-dieu  dont  l'esprit  anime  ces  climats, 
Ton  aspect  m'encourage  et  ne  m'etonne  pas. 
Oui,  j'irai  dans  ta  tombe,  au  peril  de  ma  vie, 
Acheve,  qui  veux-tu  que  ma  main  sacrifie  ? 

{UOmbre  retourne  de  son  estrade  a  la  porte  de  .;// 
tombeau.) 
II  s'eloigne,  il  nous  fuit." 
(Arzaces   is  not  aware  at   that  moment  that  he  is  himself  the  son 
of  the  late  king.'i 


26o  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

miscreant  have  moved  him,  and  he  has  left  "  the  gory 
victim  "  behind. J 

At  this  word,  Assur  comes  forth  ;  it  is  not  he  who 
was  hiding  behind  the  column,  but  Semiramis.  She  is 
not  quite  dead  ;  she  comes  out,  bleeding,  from  the 
tomb,  and  is  "placed  in  an  arm  chair."  She  blesses 
Arzaces  and  Azema,  while  Assur  is  led  away  to  be 
hanged,  being  unworthy  to  die  by  the  sword.2 

The  success  of  the  play  was  contested.  Voltaire  had 
expected  opposition  and  had  filled  the  theatre  with 
friends,  to  whom  he  had  given  free  tickets  in  even 
greater  abundance  than  usual.  "  In  spite  of  this  pre- 
caution," says  Colle,  "  two  or  three  young  men  of 
this  packed  assembly  clapped  their  hands,  yawning 
aloud  the  while,  which  made  every  one  laugh  except 
Voltaire.  As  for  me,  I  found  the  play  bad,  but  it  is 
bad  Voltaire  ;  I  could  not  do  as  much,  nor  M.  l'Abbe 
Le  Blanc  either."  3 

"  Eryphile,"  a  sort  of  first  sketch  of  Semiramis,  had 
a  nearly  similar  plot,  with  adventures  just  as  romantic,, 
while  the  author's  methods  were  equally  classical. 
There  was,  however,  this  difference,  that  the  hero  had 
no  Princess  Azema  to  occupy  his  heart,  and  that  he 
aspired   at   once  to  the  love  of  the  queen  his  mother. 


1  ".   .    .    Jc  vous  l'avouerai,  ses  sanglots  redoubles, 

Ses  cris  plaintifs  et  sourds  et  mal  articulcs  .  .   . 
M'ont  fait  abandonner  la  victimc  sanglante." 

2  "Ou'il  mcure  dans  l'opprobre  et  non  de  mon  epee, 

Et  qu'on  rcnde  an  trepas  ma  victimc  cchappcc." 
3   "  Journal,"  September,    1 748.      On    the   debates    provoked    by 
the    play  and   on    the   agitation    which   troubled   even  the  adjacent 
streets,  see  "  Mercure  dc  France,"  same  date. 


A  PERFORMANCE   OF   VOLTAIRE'S   "SEMIRAMIS"   AFTER   THE    REMOVAL   OF 
THE   BENCHES   FOR   GENTLEMEN   ON   THE    STAGE. 

Drawn  by  Gravelot,  1768.  [p.  261. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  I  263 

His    state    of  mind   recalls    that  of  Ruy  Bias,  for  he 
believes  himself  born  of  a  slave  : — 

"  Alcmeon.  Victim  of  a  fate  which  even  now  I  defy,  I  conceal  it 
no  more,  I  am  the  son  of  a  slave. 

Eryphile.     You,  my  lord  ? 

Alcmeon.  Yes,  madam  ;  and  though  of  such  low  condition, 
remember  that,  at  least,  I  would  not  conceal  it  ;  that  I  was 
magnanimous  and  high-souled  enough  to  make  before  you  that 
crushing  confession,  and  that  the  blood  given  me  by  the  gods  has 
warmed  a  heart  too  high  not  to  love  you." 

Erypkile.     A  slave !  "  * 

Eryphile,  at  the  end,  dies  by  the  hand  of  her  son, 
like  Semiramis,  and  like  Lucrece  Borgia  later  in  Victor 
Hugo's  romantic  drama.  "  Spare  me,  my  son,"  Ery- 
phile cries.  "  Ah  !  thou  hast  killed  me !  Gennaro,  1 
am  thy  mother,"  Lucrece  will  exclaim.  Voltaire  was 
indeed  supplying  the  stage  with  romantic  dramas  in 
classical  clothing. 

The  signal  was  given,   and   even  the  example  ;  the 

1   "  Alcmeon.     Victime  d'un  destin  que  meme  encor  je  brave, 
Je  ne  m'en  cache  plus,  je  suis  fils  d'un  esclave. 

Eryphile.     Yous,  seigneur  ? 

Alcmeon.  Oui,  madame,  et  dans  un  rang  si  bas, 

Souvenez  vous  qu'enfin  je  ne  m'en  cachai  pas  ; 
Que  j'eus  Fame  assez  forte,  assez  inebranlable, 
Pour  faire  devant  vous  l'aveu  qui  vous  accable  ; 
Que  ce  sang  dont  les  dieux  ont  voulu  me  former 
Me  fit  le  cceur  trop  haut  pour  ne  vous  point  aimer. 

Eryphile.     Un  esclave  ! 

Alcmeon.  Une  loi  fatale  a  ma  naissance 

Des  plus  vils  citoyens  m'interdit  l'alliance. 
J'aspirais  jusqu'a  vous  dans  mon  indigne  sort  ; 
J'ai  trompe  vos  bontes  ;  j'ai  merite  la  mort." 


264  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

experiments  were  renewed  ;  authors  dared  not  venture 
upon  every  sort  of  liberty  at  once,  but  all  were  tried 
one  after  the  other.  In  1740,  Gresset,  the  author  of 
"  Ververt  "  and  of;the  "Mediant,"  put  a  murder  on 
the  stage  in  his  "  Edouard  III.,"  "a  spectacle,"  he 
affirms,  "  offered  in  France  for  the  first  time,"  for- 
getting, he  too,  like  Voltaire,  the  independents  of 
the  age  of  Louis  XIII.,  towards  whom  he  was 
moving  back  unawares.  The  evolution  was  indeed 
complete.  A  hundred  years  previously,  Coriolanus 
had  been  massacred  on  the  French  stage,  and  put  an 
end  to  by  degrees,  discoursing  in  the  intervals  left 
him  by  his  murderers,  the  whole  forming,  it  is 
true,  a  picture  little  calculated  to  encourage  people 
of  taste  to  follow  the  example  thus  given  them  by  the 
dramatist   Chapoton  1  :— 

"  Coriolanus.      Ye  Gods  !   my  thread  is  cut ! 

Ampkidius.     Receive  this  other  blow   .   .   . 

Coriolanus.  Ere  death  deprives  me  of  my  sight,  know  that 
your  chief,  by  this  his  cruelty,  causes  my  goodwill  to  die  with  me, 
for  had  I  lived    .   .   .   But  J  die  without  saying "2 

Thereupon  he  died,  without  saying,  no  one  knew 
what.     Gresset,  at  the  other  end  of  the  cycle,  alarmed  at 

1  "  Le  veritable  Coriolan,  tragedie  representee  par  la  troupe 
royale,  par  le  S'  Chapoton,"  Paris,  1638,  40.  (Fine  frontispiece  : 
Roman  scene.) 

2  '"'•Coriolan.     Dieux  !  ma  tramc  est  couppee  ! 

Atnphidie.  Recois  cc  coup  encor  .  .  . 

Coriolan.     Avant  que  le  trespas  me  privc  dc  la  veuc, 
Scachez  que  vostre  chef,  par  cctte  cruaute, 
Fait  mourir  avec  moy  ma  bonne  volonte, 
Car  si  j'eussc  vescu  :   mais  je  meurs  sans  le  dire." 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  265 

his  own  daring,  takes  pains  to  justify  himself  ;  he  will 
not  invoke  "the  rights  of  English  tragedy,"  although 
they  have  something  to  do  with  his  attempt  ;  he  looks 
for  reasons  of  a  higher  sort  and  more  general  bearing  ; 
he  deems  that  the  rule  forbidding  bloodshed  on  the 
stage  "  should  apply  only  to  cases  where  the  deed  is 
contrary  to  justice  or  humanity."  The  murder  of  a 
scoundrel  is  permitted,  therefore,  by  the  laws  of  good- 
taste,  and  Volfax  shall  be  stabbed  by  Arundel  under 
our  eyes  : — 

"  Voila  ton  dernier  crime,  expire,  malheureux  !  "  J 
(He  throws  away  the  dagger.) 

President  Henault  is  likewise  struck  by  the  necessity 
of  renewing  the  ancient  French  style  ;  the  old  soil  is 
exhausted  ;  its  fecunditv  must  be  restored  and  new 
seeds  sown.  "  Must  nothing  be  ventured  ?  And  have 
all  genres  been  tried,  so  that  it  be  impossible  to  think  of 
new  ones  ?  "  In  his  turn  he  attempts  to  innovate  and 
publishes,  in  1747,  his  "  Nouveau  Theatre  Francois.— - 
Francois  II.,  roi  de  France."  The  influence  he  obeys 
is  Shakespeare's,  he  declares  from  the  first  line  :  "  The 
English  drama  of  Shakespehar  gave  me  the  idea  of  this 


1  Act  IV.,  sc.  viii. — "Je  ne  me  sers  point  des  droits  de  la 
tragedie  anglaise  pour  repondre  a  quelque  dirHculte  qu'on  m'a 
faite  sur  le  coup  de  theatre  du  quatrieme  acte,  spectacle  offert  en 
France  pour  la  premiere  fois  ;  je  dirai  seulemeut,  autorise  par  le 
legislateur  meme  ou  le  createur  du  theatre  francais,  que  la  maxime 
de  ne  point  ensanglanter  la  scene  ne  doit  s'entendre  que  des 
actions  hors  de  la  justice  et  de  l'humanite."  "  A\  ertissement." 
First   performance,   January    22,    1740. 


266  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

work  ;  but  as  I  have  not  been  able  to  flatter  myself  I 
could  attain  to  the  true  and  touching  beauties  of  that 
great  poet,  particularly  writing  in  prose,  so  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  avoiding  his  coarseness  and  extravagance." 
For  Shakespeare  is  extravagant,  he  is  ignorant  of  rules, 
and  his  plays  are,  consequently,  "  monsters  of  their 
kind."  They  are,  however,  deserving  of  some  atten- 
tion :  "  As  monsters  themselves  are  useful  for  anatomy, 
Shakespehar's  tragedies  have  made  me  perceive  a  use 
in  dramas  which  I  should  never  have  thought  of  with- 
out him."  Of  all  "  Shakespehar's  "  plays,  "  Henry 
VI."  is  the  one  which  has  most  struck  the  president. 
"  Why  is  our  history  not  written  thus  ?  "  he  asks  him- 
self ;  and  he  tries  the  experiment.  He  departs  there- 
fore, on  many  points,  from  the  frequented  routes,  but 
without,  however,  launching  forth  into  the  open  sea  ; 
he  follows  the  coast  :  "  The  rule  of  twenty-four  hours 
is  not  observed,  it  is  true,  since  that  reign  [Francis 
II. 's]  lasted  seventeen  months,  but  the  undertaking  is 
less  shocking  than  if  I  had  chosen  the  reign  of 
Francis  I.,  which  lasted  thirty-two  years."  Assuredly. 
He  has  put  into  his  drama  an  astrologer  and  various 
individuals  who  are  neither  princes  nor  confidants  of 
princes  :  "  If  I  have  found  room  for  some  episodical 
personages,  I  have  not,  at  least,  chosen  them,  as 
Shakespehar  does,  among  street  porters  and  the  military 
rabble."  Let  us,  therefore,  be  grateful  to  him,  as  he 
seems  to  desire  it,  for  his  reserve  ;  let  us  thank  him  for 
not  having  chosen  the  reign  of  Francis  I.,  and  even 
more  for  having  discarded  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV., 
which  lasted  seventy-two  years  ;  let  our  gratitude  apply 
to  all   he  did  not  do,  and  especially  to  all  the  national 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PARI  I  267 

dramas  which  he  might  have  written  and  did  not  write  : 
for  he  stopped  after  his  dull  and  solitary  "  Francois  II."  1 
Audacious  attempts,  however,  went  on  multiplying 
and,  what  was  most  significant,  they  were  tried  by 
conservative  minds  and  partisans  of  rules.  The  taste 
for  English  literature  was  increasing,  knowledge  of  the 
language  was  no  longer  so  rare.  On  that  point,  as  on 
all  others,  the  example  of  Voltaire  had  been  decisive. 
Destouches  or  Prevost  had  known  English,  it  is  true,  but 
no  one  had  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  this  minute 
phenomenon.  Voltaire  learnt  English,  and  his  example 
"incited  many  people  to  learn  how  to  speak  it,  so 
that  this  language  has  become  familiar  to  men  of 
letters,''  1736.2  Translation  after  translation  was  pub- 
lished ;  poems  of  Pope,  satires  of  Swift,  novels  of 
Defoe,  Richardson,  and  Fielding,  all  that  attracted 
attention  north  of  the  Channel,  obtained  almost  as 
much  south  of  it.  The  taste  even  for  political  dis- 
cussions began  to  spread.  "  Fifty  years  ago,"  said 
d'Argenson,  "  the  public  was  not  at  all  curious  of  State 
news.  To-dav,  every  one  reads  his  Paris  Gazette,  even 
in  the  provinces.  Thev  discuss  politics  ;  they  do  it 
at  random,  but  they  busy  themselves  with  such  ques- 
tions. English  liberty  grows  upon  us.  Tyranny  is 
better  watched,  and  is  obliged,  at  least,  to  tread  secret 


1  He  left,  however,  some  tragedies  on  classical  subjects,  a 
"Marius,"   a   "  Cornelie." 

2  We  have  it,  it  is  true,  on  the  testimony  of  Voltaire  himself,  for 
the  "Preface  des  Editeurs,''  of  the  "  Mort  de  Ce'sar,"  1736,  was 
not  written  by  his  publishers,  but  by  him.  Bengesco  ("  Biblio- 
graphic," i.,  p.  26).  The  praise  he  bestows  upon  himself  seems, 
however,  to  be  justified. 


268  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

paths  and  use  involved  language."  1  Richardson  was 
in  the  highest  favour,  his  works  had  revealed  new  ways, 
elegant  ladies  were  as  enthusiastic  as  men  of  letters  : 
"It  is  very  modish  to  have  a  '  Pamela,'  "  wrote,  in 
1743,  La  Chesnaye  des  Bois  in  his  "  Lettres  amusantes 
et  critiques  sur  les  Romans  en  general  Anglais  et 
Francais "  ;  "I  am  waiting  impatiently  until  some 
ot-her  novel  forces  her  to  decamp  from  ladies'  dressing- 
tables  to  go  and  occupy  the  ante-rooms,  and  be  used, 
perhaps,  as  curl-paper  by  the  hairdresser  of  some 
fop,  or  of  some  young  woman  in  a  hurry  to  get  to 
the  play."  Pamela  "  decamped,"  but  only  to  be  re- 
placed by  Clarissa,  and  then  a  delirious  enthusiasm 
was  seen  ;  rivers  of  tears  flowed  on  both  sides  of  the 
Channel.  "  There  never  yet  has  been  written  in  any 
language  whatsoever,  a  novel  equal  to  '  Clarissa,'"  said 
Rousseau-^-and_^jderot,  dissolved  in  tears,  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  Richardson,  Richardson,  man  unique  in  my  eyes, 
thou  shalt  be  my  reading  for  all  time  !  Forced  by 
pressing  needs,  if  my  friend  falls  into  poverty, 
if  the  slenderness  of  my  means  prohibit  me  from 
bestowing  a  sufficient  education  on  my  children,  I  will 
sell  my  books  :  but  from  thee  I  will  not  part.  Thou 
shalt  remain  on  the  same  shelf  with  Moses,  Homer, 
Euripides  and  Sophocles,  and  I  will  read  you  all  in 
turn." 

This  was  going  very  far.  Hitherto  the  movement 
had  been  slow,  and   had  given  rise  to  scarcely  any  pro- 

1  "  Memoircs  ct  Journal  inedit  du  Marquis  d'Argenson  "  ; 
"  Loisirs  d'un  ministrc,"  Paris,  1857,  i.,  137.  (Rene  Louis 
d'Argenson,  son  of  Marc  Rene'  d'Argenson  who  had  been 
Lieutenant-General    of  Police;    he  died    in     175 7.) 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  I  269 

tests.  The  number  of  people  acquainted  with  England 
and  Shakespeare  had  increased,  but  had  alarmed  no 
one  ;  there  were  those  who  knew  the  great  man  and 
those  who  did  not  ;  there  were  as  yet  no  partisans 
and  opponents  ;  there  was  not  a  Shakespeare  question.  \ 
That  began  in  the  second  half  of  the  century.  Boissy,  * 
in  his  comedy  "La  Frivolite  "  (January  23,  1753), 
rallies  the  pensive  English  ladies,  and  the  Frenchmen 
enamoured  alternately  of  England  and  of  Italy, 
warming  at  one  time  for  Shakespeare  and  at  another 
for  the  opera  :  "  Here  is  our  Frenchman  :  the  other 
day  he  was  a  raving  anglomaniac  ;  nothing  without  an 
English  dress  could  please  him  ;  above  Corneille  he 
placed  Shakespir.  Now  a  new  frenzy  has  seized  him, 
Italian  music  is  his  craze."  1  Boissy  was  only  joking  ; 
but  the  time  was  coming  when  the  question  would  no 
longer  be  a  laughing  matter  ;  storms  were  gathering, 
war  threatened.  "  I  speak  it  with  truth,"  d'Argenson 
wrote  on  the  occasion  of  a  translation  of  "  Tom  Jones," 
published  with  great  approbation  in  1750,  "Anglicism 
is  gaining  upon  us."  Many  echoed  these  words  ;  the 
alarm  was  given. 

Tragedy  being  more  highly  prized,  and  submitted  to 
stricter  rules  than  novels,  Shakespeare,  not  Richardson, 
was  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  impending  war. 

1    "  Son  transport  l'autre  jour  etait  l'anglomanie  ; 
Rien  sans  l'habit  anglais  ne  pouvait  reussir  ; 
Au-dessus  de  Corneille  il  mettait  Shakespir. 
Une  nouvelle  frenesie 
Aujourd'hui  vient  de  le  saisir, 
C'est  la  fureur  des  accords  d'ltalie.'" 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE     EIGHTEENTH     CENTURY 

Part    II. — 1750   to   the    Revolution 

I. 

D'ARGENSON  had  spoken  with  truth  ;  Anglicism 
was  now  pervading  France.  Complete  was  the 
change  ;  the  rough  and  rude  " patois"  derided 
by  Saint-Amant  had  become  the  fashionable  language  of 
the  day.  Each  and  all  prided  themselves  upon  knowing 
it ;  ladies  played  their  part  in  the  movement  •  they 
wrote  translations  from  the  English,  dissertations 
and  comments  ;  they  were  becoming  learned.  "  On 
their  toilets  Newton  replaced  the  'Grand  Cyrus.'"1 
Madame  de  Pompadour  had  a  Shakespeare  in  French  ; 
Madame  du  Barry  had  one  in  English.  Louis  XVI. 
translated  into  French  Walpole's  essay  on  Richard  III. 
Some  even  tried  to  overcome  the  difficulties  offered  by 
the  pronunciation  of  a  language  which  surpasses  all 
others  in  this  respect,  "  with  the  solitary  exception  of 
the  language  of  cats."      So  says  Abbe  Galiani,  writing 

1  Abbe  Le  Blanc  to  Buftbn,  letter  xciii.  ("  Lcttres  d'un  Francois," 
La  Hayc,  1745,  3  vols.). 

270 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.    PART  II  271 

to  Madame  de  Belsunce  :  "  They  have  killed  my  cat  ! 
Ah  !  what  a  sad  loss,  the  loss  of  dogs  and  cats.  .  .  . 
Three  weeks  have  passed,  and  I  remain  inconsolable. 
He  had  been  my  master  in  the  cattish  idiom  (mon 
maitre  de  langue  chatoise) ;  and  though  I  could  not 
speak  it,  because  it  is  more  difficult  to  pronounce  than 
English,  yet  I  could  understand  it  pretty  well."  ' 

Anglicum  est,  non  legitur,  people  thought  in  the 
sixteenth  century  ;  Anglicum  est,  erudimini,  they  say 
now.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was  some  particular  virtue 
in  an  English  book  ;  they  ordered  from  London  "  des 
livres  anglois,"  they  bespoke  from  publishers  "  des 
comedies  angloises,"  without  entering  into  more  par- 
ticulars,2 in  the  same  way  that  a  century  earlier  Scarron 
used  to  order  "des  comedies  espagnolles."  3  For  the 
generalitv  of  people  in  societv  who  busied  themselves 
with  literature,  all  those  books  were  the  work  of  one 
and  the  same  author,  called  England.  The  more  a 
book  seemed  to  be  characteristically  English,  according 
to  the  standard   of  the  time,    the  more  it   was   liked. 

1  "  Correspondance,"  cd.,  Perey  and  Maugras,  Paris,  1881,  8°, 
Naples,  May  11,  1776. 

2  La  Place  asks  Monnet  to  send  him  from  London  various 
books  "  and  the  plays  of  the  last  six  months — I  mean  the  new- 
plays — as  well  as  short  tales  and  pretty  new  pamphlets  ;  novels 
ditto  if  they  are  said  to  be  pretty."  ("  Correspondence  of  David 
Garrick,"  1831,  vol.  ii.,  p.  474.)  Patu  edits  a  "Choix  de  petites 
pieces  du  Theatre  Anglois,  traduites  des  originaux,"  Paris,  1756, 
2  vols.  ;  Madame  Riccoboni  prints  a  "  Nouveau  Theatre  Anglois," 
Paris,  1769,  2  vols.  They  are  "Anglois"  plays  ;  no  need  to  sav 
more. 

3  "  Je  vous  suis  bien  oblige  de  la  peine  que  vous  prenez  de  me 
faire  trouver  des  comedies  espagnolles."  To  Marignv,  "  Dernieres 
CEuvres,"   1730,  vol.  i.,  p.  62. 


2J2  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

The  "  Night  Thoughts  "  of  Young  were  received  with 
boundless  admiration  ;  the  poems  of  Ossian  with 
rapturous  enthusiasm,  an  admiration  and  enthusiasm 
so  vigorous  that  they  outlasted  the  Revolution.  "  I 
have  begun  a  canto  on  Brutus,"  wrote  Lucien  Bona- 
parte to  his  brother  Joseph,  "  one  single  canto  in  the 
style  of  Young's  '  Night  Thoughts.'  Young  is  my 
model  ;  by  a  thousand  darts  he  penetrates  to  my  very 
soul."  l  Lamartine,  later,  took  Ossian  for  his  master  in 
poetry  :  "  Ossian  was  the  Homer  of  my  younger  days  ; 
I  owe  him  part  of  the  melancholy  of  my  pencils."  2 

Some  grumblings,  it  is  true,  were  heard,  from  the 
first.  "  As  for  novels,"  said  Colle  with  a  shrug,  "  if 
they  are  not  translated  from  the  English,  they  are  not 
read."  3  "  Miss  Fanny,  Miss  Jenny,  Miss  Polly," 
wrote  Beaumarchais,  "  delightful  beings  !  My  Eugenie 
would,  doubtless,  have  been  better  if  she  could  have 
had  you  for  a  model,  but  she  existed  before  you  had 
received  life  yourself,  failing  which  one  can  serve  as  a 
model  to  nobody."  4    Fashion,  however,  was  the  stronger, 

1  Year  IV.  of  Liberty,  "  Revue  de  Paris,"  March  15,  1895. 

2  "Ossian  hit  l'Homere  de  mes  premieres  annees  ;  je  lui  dois 
unc  partie  de  la  melancolie  de  mes  pinccaux."  Preface  of  the 
"  Meditations." 

3  "Journal  historiquc,"  September,  I  764.  Cf.  Saurin's  "L'Anglo- 
mane,"  1772,  first  called  "L'Orpheline  leguee,"  1765.  Abbe 
Prevost  never  tired  of"  translating,  but  curtailed  his  originals  for 
the  sake  of  his  readers,  to  the  great  indignation  of  Richardson,  who 
complained,  of  course,  that  the  best  parts  had  been  left  out.  La 
Place  evinced  also  an  unceasing  zeal;  his  "  Collection  de  Romans 
imites  de  l'anglois  "  fills  8  vols.  8°.  For  poetry,  there  was  the 
selection  of  Abbe  Yart,  also  in  8  vols.,  "  Idee  de  la  poesie  Angloisc," 
Paris,  1753. 

4   "  Eugenic,  avee  un  essai  sur  le  drame  sericux,"  Paris,  1767,8°. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  273 

and  for  all  his  ill-humour,  Colle  mentioned  expressly 
on  the  title  of  one  of  his  plays  that  he  had  composed  it 
"  in  the  free  style  of  the  English  theatre,"  a  very  free 
style  indeed.1  Beaumarchais,  in  spite  of  his  banter,  gave 
his  readers  to  understand  that  his  play  "  Eugenie  "  had 
an  English  plot,  "  etait  tiree  d'un  sujet  anglais." 
Preville,  the  actor,  hoped  for  a  success,  but  had 
some  doubts  :  "  As  there  is  a  wench  with  child  in 
that  play,  and  we  are  not  accustomed  to  indecencies 
of  that  sort,  1  do  not  know  how  the  audience  will 
take  it."2 

Everything  was  done  "  a  l'anglaise  ;  "  people  rode 
"  a  l'anglaise  "  and  boxed  "  a  l'anglaise  "  ;  Ollivier 
represented  in  a  charming  picture,  now  in  the  Louvre, 
a  "  the  a  l'anglaise "  at  the  Prince  de  Conti's  ; 
"  matinees  "  were  spent  "  a  l'anglaise  " — that  is,  with- 
out saying  a  word.  "  We  have  spent  the  morning, 
to-day,  English-fashion,"  wrote  Saint  Preux  to  milord 
Edouard  in  "  La  Nouvelle  Heloise,"  "  we  were  together 
and  remained  silent  ;  we  enjoyed,  at  the  same  time,  the 
pleasure  of  being  with  each  other  and  the  sweetness  of 
meditation."  3  "  Bets  were  made,  ponche  was  drunk, 
rosbif  and  pouding  were  eaten   with   relish,  claret  was 

1  "  Les  Accidents  ou  les  Abbes,  comedie  dans  le  gout  libre  du 
Theatre  Anglois,"  Paris,  1786,  8°.  The  Countess  flirts  with  a 
young  cherubin  of  an  abbe,  who  proves  to  be  a  woman. 

2  Monnet  to  Garrick,  January  26,  1767.  "A  play  fell  yesterday 
at  the  Francais  ;  the  author,  M.  de  Beaumarchais  ;  Preville  plaved 
like  an  angel."  Madame  Riccoboni  to  Garrick,  "  Correspondence 
of  D.  Garrick,"  ii.,  508,  511. 

3  "Nous  avons  passe  aujourd'hui  une  matinee  a  l'anglaise,  reunis 
et  dans  le  silence,  goutant  a  la  fois  le  plaisir  d'etre  ensemble  et  la 
douceur  du  recueillement."  "Nouvelle  Heloise,"  Part  V.,  letter  iii. 

r9 


274  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

preferred  to  champagne  and  burgundy,  rights  were 
fought  with  the  forts  de  la  halle"  in  the  same  way 
that  "  my  lords  "  wrestled  with  scavengers  or  cabdrivers 
in  the  streets  of  London.  Some  even  went  the  length 
of  preferring  "  Shakespeart "  to  Corneille.1  Dresses 
also  were  modified  ;  men  of  fashion  gave  up  embroidered 
coats,  "  small  hats  under  the  arm,"  laces.  "  It  is  now 
the  craze  among  young  men,"  wrote  Mercier,  "  to  copy 
England  in  her  dress.  The  son  of  a  financier,  a  young- 
man  of  family  as  it  is  called,  a  commercial  clerk,  alike 
don  the  long  narrow  coat,  carry  their  hat  on  their  head, 
sport  a  flowing  scarf,  with  gloves,  cropped  hair,  and 
a  stick."  2 

English  fashions  were  welcomed  in  France,  while 
French  ones  were  followed  in  England,  for  there  was 
reciprocity.  What  would  have  become  of  Garrick 
without  French  reviews,  novels,  and  pamphlets,  with- 
out the  "  Annee  Litteraire"  of  Freron  ?  3  What 
would  have  become  of  Mrs.  Garrick  without  the  full 
books  of  coiffures  despatched  from  Paris  by  trusty 
Monnet,  as  well  as  ready-made  petticoats  and  a 
thousand    other    ornaments,    Paris    fashion  ?      Monnet 

1  "  L'Observatcur  Francais  a  Londres,"  Paris,  1769-72,  32  vols. 
120,  by  Damiens  de  Gomicourt  ;  Letter  from  London,  1768. 
"M.  de  Voltaire  en  avait  jcte  les  fondements"  (i.e.,  of  Anglo- 
mania). "Corneille  fut  place  au  dcuxieme  rang  par  1'Anglomanic  ; 
elle  mit  Shakespeart  au  premier."    Cf.  Saurin's  "Anglomanc,"  sc.  xii. 

2  Renouncing  lace,  gold,  "deux  montres  avec  leurs  breloques" 
and  the  "petit  chapeau  sous  le  bras."  "Tableau  de  Paris," 
1782,  vii.,  ch.  548.      See  dress  of  Damis  in  "  L'Anglomane,"  sc.  i. 

3  Noverre,  a  ballet  master,  secures  for  him,  besides  dancing  girls, 
Frcron's  paper,  "J'aurai  soin  de  vous  porter  la  suite  de  'l'Annee 
Litteraire  '  ct  de  l'achctcr  a  mesure  qu'elle  parottra." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTl'RY.     PART  II  275 

is  ever  on  the  move  ;  he  keeps  accounts,  receives, 
packs,  sends  forth,  recommends  a  "  new  flambeau 
with  spirit  of  wine  and  powder,"  said  to  give  excellent 
light  for  the  theatre  ;  he  sends  cartloads  of  French 
books  and  prints,  gives  news  of  all  Paris,  not  for- 
getting his  own  dog  :  "  Your  friend,  mv  knave  of  a 
dog,  gives  me  more  trouble  than  he  is  worth  ;  he  has 
ravished  the  favourite  little  bitch  of  M.  le  due  de 
Choiseul,  for  which  deed  he  is  threatened  with  the 
Bastille.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  be  able  to 
obtain  a  reprieve."  * 

People  travelled  more  than  before.  "  Is  it  possible 
to  live  for  ever  in  Paris  ?  "  exclaimed  Voltaire  ;  "  what 
stay-at-home  people  you  are  !  .  .  .  I  rage  to  think  that 
I  shall  die,  and  not  have  seen  the  Pyramids  and  the 
ruins  of  the  theatre  of  TEschvlus."  2  Without  going 
so  far,  people  flocked  to  England  ;  guide-books  were 
becoming  numerous,  detailed,  practical,  illustrated. 
Men  of  letters  came  and  went  in  numbers  ;  after  those 
great  stars,  Voltaire,  Montesquieu,  and  later  Rousseau, 
a  cluster  of  minor  luminaries  and  secondary  abbes  went 
to  shine  in  Great  Britain  :  Abbe  Expillv,  Abbe  Coyer, 
Abbe  Bonnet,  Abbe  Morellet.  Reviews  and  gazettes 
were  filled  more  than  ever  with  translations  and 
accounts  of  English  works  :  "  Memoires  de  la  Grande 
Bretagne,"  "Journal  Etranger,"  "Gazette  Litteraire  de 


1  "Correspondence  of  Garrick,"  December  17,  1766  ;  July  6, 
1767.  Concerning  the  stay  of  Monnet  in  London  with  a  troupe 
of  French  actors  in  1749,  see  his  "Supplement  au  Roman 
Comique,"  London,   1772,  8°,  with  portrait. 

2  To  Madame  d'Argental,  July  20,  1759. 


276  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

l'Europe  "  of  Suard  and  Arnaud,  "  Annee  Litteraire" 
of  Freron,  "  Journal  Encyclopedique,"  1  "  Observateur 
Litteraire,"  "  Magasin  Anglais,"  "Journal  Anglais," 
"  Papiers  Anglais,"  "  Journal  Francais,  Italien  et 
Anglais,"  in  three  languages  (a  forerunner  of  the 
modern  "  Cosmopolis  ")  2  "  Annales  politiques  civiles 
et  Litteraires "  of  Linguet,  "  Journal  du  Lycee  de 
Londres  "  of  Brissot  ;  not  to  speak  of  a  quantity  of 
others,  of  many  older  publications  still  continued  then, 
such  as  the  "  Journal  des  Savants,"  the  "  Mercure  de 
France,"  the  "Journal  de  Trevoux,"  &c,  or  of  all 
those  which  were  created  later — for  example,  that 
"  Bibliotheque  Britannique,"  begun  at  Geneva  in 
1796,  of  which  Napoleon  possessed  a  set,  and  in 
whose  first  volume  he  may  have  read,  all  uncon- 
scious of   the    tragic    interest    the    subject  would  one 


1  Whose  articles  of  October  15  and  November  1,  1760  (being 
parallels  between  Shakespeare  and  Corneille  ;  Otway  and  Racine, 
"  traduits  de  l'anglais "),  elicited  Voltaire's  answer  :  "Appel  a  toutes 
les  Nations  de  l'Europe,"   1761. 

2  Begun  August,  1777.  The  French  part  of  this  number  con- 
tained a  letter  on  Cubieres  (see  below,  pp.  342  ff.),  an  analysis  of 
Baretti's  answer  to  Voltaire  concerning  Shakespeare,  some  short 
poems,  &c.  The  second  part  was  filled  by  "  A  Dessertation  by  M. 
Mercier  on  .  .  .  Othello";  the  third,  by  a  "Dialogo  tra  Omero  e 
una  ricamatrice"  the  work  of  the  "  celebre  comtc  de  Gozzi."  The 
cosmopolitan  tastes  of  the  period  arc  again  well  exemplified  by  such 
compilations  as  the  "  Bibliotheque  d'un  homme  de  gout  ou  tableau 
dc  la  littcrature  anciennc  et  modcrnc,  etrangere  et  nationalc,  dans 
lcqucl  on  expose  lc  sujct  .  .  .  de  tous  les  livrcs  qui  out  paru  dans 
tous  les  sieclcs,  sur  tous  les  genres  et  dans  toutes  les  langues," 
Paris,  1777,  4  vols.  12°.  There  arc  notices  even  on  Chinese 
epic  and  dramatic  poets  ;  needless  to  say  that  they  arc  worthless, 
but  so  is  also  all  the  rest  of  the  compilation. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  2jy 

day  have  for   him,  "  a  sketch  of  the   island   of  Saint 
Helena."  ' 

The  "  Journal  Anglais  "  -  has  England  for  its  only 
subject  ;  it  gives  information  on  the  past  history,  the 
literature,  and  the  present  politics  of  the  country. 
Some  space  is  reserved  for  societv  news,  for  births  and 
deaths,  for  curious  inventions,  such  as  boxes  "  to 
remove  plants  and  shrubs  and  to  allow  of  their  being 
safely  transported  by  sea  "  (illustrated).  But,  above 
all,  this  paper  offered  the  peculiaritv  of  giving  in  each 
number,  according  to  its  original  programme,  the 
biography  of  some  English  poet  or  man  of  letters. 
The  first  essay  was,  as  of  right,  dedicated  to  Chaucer, 
"  father  of  English  poetry,"  whose  biography,  it  is  true, 
has  been  somewhat  rectified  since  :  "  The  birthplace 
of  Chaucer  is  still  an  enigma  as  Homer's  was  ;  he 
died   "  at  Donnington   Castle,  near  Xewburv,  in  Berk- 

1  The  last  of  the  series  was  the  "  Revue  Britannique,  ou  choix 
d'articles  traduits  des  meilleurs  ecrits  periodiques  de  la  Grande 
Bretagne,"  founded  in  1825  by  Saulnier  fils  and  P.  Dondey-Dupre, 
and  best  known  as  associated  with  the  name  of  the  two  Pichot, 
father  and  son.  The  first  article  of  the  first  number  treats  :  "Du 
transport  par  les  canaux,  les  routes  a  rainures  de  fer  et  les  voitures 
a  vapeur";  in  other  words,  steam  engines  and  railways.  "Nous 
avons  pense,"  the  editors  observe,  "  que  cet  article,  ou  les  avan 
tages  et  les  inconvenients  des  different;  modes  de  transport  son: 
habilement  discutes,  presenterait  un  interet  particulier  dans  un 
moment  ou  Ton  examine  si  on  joindra  Paris  au  Havre  par  une  route 
en  fer  ou  par  un  canal  qui  serait  accessible  aux  batiments  de  mer." 
This  last  problem  is  still  under  discussion,  and  the  Review  is  still 
alive. 

2  A  fortnightly  review,  begun  October  15,  1775,  by  Ruault. 
Le  Tourneur,  La  Guerrie,  and  Peyron  are  announced  as  con- 
tributors from  October,   1776. 


278  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

shire."  The  summing  up  is  expressed  in  the  terms 
which  were  then  considered  the  most  flattering  :  "  To 
say  everything  in  a  single  word  he  was  a  philosopher, 
according  to  the  true  meaning  of  the  name  ;  he  had 
religion  and  morals."  In  the  second  number  appeared 
a  life  of  Spenser,  "  an  old  poet "  ;  then  came  lives  of 
Jonson,  of  Shakespeare  (containing  enthusiastic  praise 
of  his  genius), l  and  of  a  multitude  of  others,  down  to 
Hume  and  Goldsmith.  The  "  Journal  Anglais  "  goes 
even  so  far  as  to  give  specimens  of  certain  "  detached 
pieces  "  we  owe  to  Shakespeare,  deeming  that  one  may 
discover  "  in  those  slight,  unstudied  sketches  the  qualities 
and  characteristics  of  his  energetic,  sensible,  and  graceful 
muse."  By  "detached  pieces"  the  translator  means 
the  sonnets  ;  and  without  troubling  himself  in  the  least 
about  the  famous  "  Mr.  W.  H.,"  he  describes  them  as 
addressed,  one  and  all,  by  Shakespeare,  to  his  lady-love, 
"  a  son  amante." 

In  other  reviews,  as  well  as  in  the  "  Journal  Anglais," 
numerous  articles  are  dedicated  to  Shakespeare  :  "  Who- 
soever knows  Shakespeare  well,  better  understands 
English  minds,  for  his  genius  is  the  genius  of  the 
whole  island."  "  Contes  Moraux  "  are  extracted  from 
his  works  ;  2  "  Beauties  "  are  selected  from  "  Tout  est 
bien    qui    se    termine    bien,"    "  La    Correction    d'une 


1  And  a  keen  satire  on  his  enemies  or  clumsy  friends  :  "  L'un 
l'habillc  a  la  francaise  et,  aprcs  l'avoir  defigure,  nous  dit  :  lroi!a 
Shakespeare.  L'autrc,  s'armant  dc  l'epigramme  pour  fairc  la  guerre 
au  genie,  travestit  en  platitude  sa  noble  simplicite  et  vent  aussi 
etre   cru   quand    il    nous    dit  :    Voila    Shakespeare"    (November  30, 

1775)- 

2  By  T.  B.  Perrin,  London,  1783,  120. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         279 

Femme  de  mauvaise  humeur "  and  "  Comme  vous 
voulez."  J  It  was  even  a  law,  "  une  loi,"  in  the  "Journal 
Etranger  "  to  quote  texts  in  the  original.  As  "  several 
of  our  readers  have  become  familiar  with  the  English 
language,"  they  will  be  enabled  "  to  compare  at  a 
glance  the  three  styles  of  Racine,  M.  l'Abbe  Metastasio, 
and  M.  Whitehead."  The  sample,  as  printed  by  the 
Journal,  still  has  affinities  with  English  "  as  she  was 
spoke  "  by  Panurge  : — 

"  Be  strietly  just  ;  but  yel,  like  heaven,  with  mercy 
Temper  thy  justice.      From  thy  purged  ear 
Banish  bale  flattery."  2 

One  thinks  of  the  reader  looking  for  words  in  his 
dictionary  and  picturing  to  himself  Joas  "  yelling  like 
heaven." 

A  Frenchman  was  found,  in  the  same  period,  who 
already  contemplated,  a  century  before  Taine,  and, 
what  is  more  remarkable,  many  years  before  War  ton, 
writing  a  complete  history  of  English  literature. 
Admiration  for  Shakespeare  had  led  him  to  assume 
this  tremendous  task  ;  he  wanted  his  work  to  be  "  an 
accurate  and  thoughtful  history,  written  without  preju- 
dice," but  not  without  enthusiasm. 3     All  his  thoughts 

1  "Journal  Etranger,"  July  and  September,  1754. 

2  Joad  to  Joas  in  Racine's  "Athalie."  "Journal  Etranger,"  June, 
1775.  See,  in  the  number  of  December,  1755,  an  article  by  Freron 
(who  had  succeeded  Prevost  as  editor  of  the  paper)  on  "  Romeo." 
He  greatly  praises  Garrick,  who  had  altered  the  catastrophe. 

3  "  Je  travaille  maintenant  a  un  ouvrage  sur  votre  litterature  qui 
me  donnera  lieu  de  m'expliquer  sur  ce  genie  merveilleux  "  (Shake- 
speare).     Patu  to  Garrick,  May  6,  1755.      He  recurs  in  a  letter  of 


280  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

were  centred  upon  it,  he  read  English  books  un- 
ceasingly, and  learnt  to  write  English.1  He  went  to 
stay  in  London,  though  threatened  with  consumption  ; 
but  the  disease  got  the  better  of  his  plans  ;  he  soon 
began  to  spit  blood — and  death,  which  overtook  him  at 
Saint  Jean  de  Maurienne,  when  he  was  only  twenty- 
eight,  prevented  Claude  -  Pierre  Patu  from  being 
honoured,  French  though  he  was,  as  a  forerunner  of 
the  poet  laureate  and  famous  critic,  Thomas  Warton. 

Travellers  continued  more  than  ever  to  note  and 
publish  their  impressions.  Grosley,  a  barrister  of 
Troyes,  who  "  brought  back  only  two  words  from 
England,  namely,  very  good  and  very  wel"  and  trans- 
lated "  Blac  Friars  "  by  "  Moines  Blancs,"  black  and 
blanc  being  obviously  the  same  word,  printed  a  "  Lon- 
dres  "  in  three  volumes,  full  of  amusing  anecdotes,  one 
of  which  put  Garrick  quite  beside  himself.  Grosley 
supplies  a  number  of  details  on  games,  fights,  theatres, 
performances  of  "  Macbet,  Richard  III.,  le  Roi  Lawe 
et  autres  pieces  de  Shakespear."  2     Expilly,  La  Tour, 

June  [8,  1755,  to  the  "idee  ou  je  suis  d'executer  un  jour  mon  grand 
projet  d'une  histoire  exacte  et  reflcchie  de  la  Litt'erature  angloise. 
.  .  .  J'ai  millc  choses  a  dire,  sans  prejuges  ce  me  semble,  sans  mau- 
vaise  humeur,  sans  partialite  nationalc,  sur  cettc  divine  action  sur 
cette  chaleur  d,i?iteret  qui  caracterise  tant  de  vos  pieces." 

1  "  I  will  write  sometimes  in  English,  pitifully  to  be  sure,  but 
what  is  that  to  me,  since  error  is  the  only  way  to  truth,  and  besides, 
a  true  Englishman  considers  thoughts  more  than  words."  Letter 
(in  English)  to  Garrick,  February   25,   1755. 

2  "  Londrcs,"  Lausanne,  1770,  3  vols.,  1  20,  "  augmente  des  notes 
d'un  Anglois,"  Ncufchatcl,  1774.  Grosley  reports  that  Garrick 
having  increased  the  price  of  the  seats  in  his  theatre,  had  to  kneel 
before  the  public  and  beg  pardon.  Suard  pacified  Garrick  by 
inserting  in  the  "Avant-Coureur  "  a  note  rectifying  the  story  circu- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  281 

Coyer,  print  descriptions,  guides,  and  observations.1 
Sentimental  travellers,  encouraged  by  the  fame  of 
JSterne,  addict  themselves  in  preference  to  autumnal 
walks,  "Promenades  d'Automne,"  and,  in  their 
English  travels,  go  to  the  open  fields  there  to  shed 
tears  :  "I  abandoned  myself  without  reserve  to  the 
sweet  emotions  which  the  English  country  had  already 
made  me  experience.  I  recalled  to  mind  the  descrip- 
tions of  Camden,  Pope  and  Shakespeare,  and  the 
English  ballads  which  I  had  wept  over  in  my  youth."  2 
Another  wants  to  return  Sterne's  visit,  and  writes, 

lated  by  "ce  voyageur  de  caffe  qui,  d'ailleurs,  est   un  assez  galant 
homrae."    "Correspondence  of  Garrick,"  ii.,  570,  August  12,  1770. 

1  "  Description  historique-geographique  des  Isles  Britanniques," 
by  the  Abbe  Expilly,  Paris,  1759,  I2°- — "Nouvelles  observations 
sur  l'Angleterre,  par  un  vovageur  "  (Abbe  Coyer),  Paris,  1779,  1  20, 
in  the  shape  of  letters. — "  Londres  et  ses  environs,"  by  de  Serre  de 
La  Tour,  Paris,  1788,  2  vols.,  120  (a  real  guide-book  with  particu- 
lars concerning  the  inns,  the  precautions  to  be  taken  against  pick- 
pockets, &c,  fine  engravings).  Many  other  books,  meant  to  make 
England  better  known,  might  be  quoted,  such  as  "  Essai  geogra- 
phique  sur  les  Isles  Britanniques,"  by  Bellin,  Paris,  1757,  8°,  with 
maps  ;  "Les  Nuits  Anglaises,  ou  recueil  de  traits  singuliers,  d'anec- 
dotes,  &c,  propres  a  faire  connaitre  le  genie  et  le  caractere  des 
Anglais,"  by  d'Orville,  1770,  4  vols.,  8°  ;  the  letters  of  Madame  du 
Bocage  in  the  "  Recueil  "  of  her  works,  Lyons,  1764,  3  vols.,  12° 
(some  translations  from  Milton  and  Pope  are  also  to  be  found  in 
that  "Recueil");  the  pseudo-novel  of  Lescure  :  "Les  Amants 
Francais  a  Londres  ou  les  Delices  de  l'Angleterre,"  London,  1780, 
written  to  show  "la  facon  de  vivre  dans  ce  pavs  Republiquain,"and 
to  give  to  Frenchmen  "de  nouvelles  raisons  d'estimer  et  d'aimer 
leur  Gouvernement,"  &c. 

2  J.  Cambry,  "  Promenades  d'Automne  en  Angleterre,"  Paris, 
1788,  8°.  He  imitates  the  meandering  ways  of  Sterne  ;  he  took 
his  notes,  he  says,  "  en  voiture,  dans  une  auberge,  au  pied  d'un 
arbre." 


282  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

as  a  parallel  to  his  "Sentimental  Journey,"  a  "Voyage 
philosophique,"  l  describing  a  journey  to  the  land  of 
thinkers  and  philosophers.  He  is  at  once  recognized 
and  saluted,  on  account  of  the  foreign  cut  of  his 
fur  coat,  with  the  words,  "  Oh  !  a  French  dog ! " 
shouted  in  chorus  by  the  little  philosophers  of  the 
street  ;  but  he  has,  he  too,  some  philosophy  of  his  own, 
and  his  good  humour  is  not  abated.  He  goes  to  the 
play,  admires  Mrs.  Siddons,  but  protests,  at  the  same 
time,  against  the  absence  of  the  unities,  and  against  the 
liberties  taken  by  English  players  with  Shakespeare's 
text  ;  he  belongs  obviously  to  the  eclectic  school  of 
philosophy.  He  looks  with  an  observing  eye  at  the 
audience  in  the  pit  :  "  As  for  the  manners  there,  much 
better  ones  are  to  be  found  with  us  in  the  booths  at  the 
fair  :  people  sing,  whistle,  scream,  drink,  eat  oranges, 
and  throw  the  rind  straight  before  them,  without  the 
slightest  intention  of  insulting  the  cheek  which  receives 
it  ;  and  no  one  takes  offence. " 

Sterne  having  done  our  "  grisettes  "  the  honour  of 
paying  great  attention  to  them,  La  Coste,  author  of 
the  "  Philosophical  Journey,"  returns  the  compliment 
to  their  English  sisters,  sups  with  them,  and  listens 
with  emotion  to  the  story  of  those  beautiful  persons,  all 
of  them  "  filles  d'honneur  comme  il  plait  a  Dieu,"  as 
La  Tour  said  in  his  guide-book.  The  philosophical 
raveller  devotes  a  chapter  to  the  "  splin,"  has  nothing 
to  say  of  the  king,  who  is  of  no  account  in  this  country, 
as  he  is  nothing  (but  the  State  crown-bearer,  "  le  porte- 
couronne  de    l'Etat."     La  Coste  sometimes  draws  vig- 

1   "Voyage    philosophique  d'Anglctcrre,  fait  en    1783   et    1784," 
London,  1786,  8°  (by  Dc  La  Coste). 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         283 

nettes  which  recall  the  minute  sketches  of  his  model. 
He  describes  an  ale  tavern  frequented  by  seamen, 
drivers,  and  dockers,  and  gives  an  outline  portrait  of 
some  of  the  customers  :  "  To  my  left  was  a  man,  five 
or  six  feet  in  circumference,  with  a  short  and  wide  red 
wig,  his  hat  on  his  head,  a  cold  composure,  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  his  legs  apart,  and  his  mind,  in  truth, 
I  know  not  where  :  for  he  offered  a  perfect  image  of 
inert  matter  ;  he  smoked  not,  drank  not,  read  not,  and 
yet  he  existed  " — John  Bull  at  rest.  The  scene  becomes 
more  lively  ;  seamen  and  dockers  begin  to  discuss  "  in 
vehement  but  orderly  fashion  the  bearing  of  M.  Fox's 
Bill  on  the  East  India  Company.  ...  It  struck  me  as 
very  surprising  to  hear  matters  of  that  sort  treated  by 
a  class  of  citizens  which  its  social  status  seems  to  bind 
to  the  grossest  ignorance."  The  warmth  of  the  debate 
increases ;  upon  a  contradiction  and  a  denial  high 
words  resound,  the  disputants  remove  their  coats,  go 
into  the  street,  choose  seconds,  and  then  follows  a 
regular  fight,  the  conclusion  of  which  is  not  less 
remarkable  than  the  origin.  When  the  weaker  had 
fallen,  "  I  thought  his  enemy  would  leave  him  a  prey 
to  the  laughter  of  the  bystanders  and  go  away  bragging 
and  singing  his  own  victory.  What  was  my  astonish- 
ment when  I  saw  him  stretch  out  his  hand,  take  his 
adversary's  and  shake  it  strongly  :  a  token  of  attach- 
ment used  by  English  people  of  all  ranks  ;  and  I  heard 
them  make  friends  again  in  words  showing  esteem  for 
each  other.  I  was  the  more  surprised  as  the  cause  of 
their  reciprocal  praise  was  neither  the  strength  nor  the 
skill,  but  solely  the  valour  that  had  just  been  dis- 
played." 


284  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

An  enthusiastic  reception  awaited  English  men  of 
letters  in  the  Paris  salons  of  that  day  ;  Walpole  was 
the  idol  of  Madame  du  DefFand  ;  Chesterfield  sent  his 
son  to  Madame  de  Tencin  :  "  Certain  examples,"  he 
wrote  to  that  former  nun,  "  are  more  instructive  than 
all  possible  precepts.  As  you  have  resolved  not  to 
have  boys  yourself"  (a  resolve  not  very  well  kept,  as 
she  had  given  birth  to  and  forsaken  the  child  that  was 
to  be  d'Alembert),  "  adopt  this  one,  for  some  time  at 
least.  ...  I  do  not  wish  him  to  win  provinces,  but  only 
hearts."  '  Gibbon,  sent  to  do  penance  at  Lausanne, 
after  his  reading  of  "two  famous  works  of  Bossuet"  had 
made  of  him  a  Catholic  for  a  while,  went  to  see  Voltaire 
play  in  his  own  tragedies,  and  soon  became  an  en- 
thusiastic admirer  of  French  classical  art  :  "  Voltaire," 
he  says  in  his  Memoirs,  "  represented  the  characters 
best  adapted  to  his  years,  Lusignan,  Alvarez,  Benassar, 
Euphemon.  His  declamation  was  fashioned  to  the  pomp 
and  cadence  of  the  old  stage,  and  he  expressed  the  enthu- 
siasm of  poetry  rather  than  the  feelings  of  nature.  My 
ardour,  which  soon  became  conspicuous,  seldom  failed 
to  procure  me  a  ticket."  One  visitor,  at  least,  did  not 
share  Gibbon's  admiration,  and  has  left,  in  the  shape  of 
an  engraved  sketch  (here  reproduced),  a  lasting  memorial 
of  the  impression  created  upon  him  by  Voltaire  in 
those  famous  days  when  he  donned  the  classical  helmet. 

Sterne,  on  the  other  hand,  amused,  "  par  son  origi- 
nality piquante,"  a  society  which  prided  itself  upon 
wondering  at  nothing.  This  "  minister  of  the  Angli- 
can religion  had  a  wife  lawfully  belonging  to  him  ;  he 

'  Year  1 7 5 1,  the  original  in  French.  "  Miscellaneous  Works," 
cd.  Maty,  London,   1777,  2  vols.,  4.0,  vol.  ii.,  p.   161. 


VOLTAIRE   AS  A   TRAGIC   ACTOR. 

A  caricature  drawn  in  1772. 


;/■  285. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II         287 

was  in  love  with  Eliza,  who  was  the  wife  of  another, 
and  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  nor  both  together, 
could  prevent  his  being  again  and  again  captivated  by 
any  woman  whose  charms  had  elicited  his  admiration."  l 
Mademoiselle  de  Lespinasse  tried  to  write  "  in  the 
vein  of  Sterne,"  and  Diderot  did  not  abstain  from 
appropriating  some  of  Yorick's  peculiarities,2  his  desul- 
toriness,  his  dialogues  started  on  the  sudden  about 
unexpected  subjects,  and  even  his  monkey  tricks,  for 
there  is  no  other  word.  Hume  was  received  with  open 
arms,  when  scarcely  out  of  his  chaise  : — 

"  Ah  !   permettez  de  grace, 
Pour  l'amour  de  P  anglais,  Monsieur,  qu'on  vous  embrassc  "  ; 

Greek  was  no  longer  in  question. 3  "  Lord  Beau- 
champ,"  wrote  Hume  to  Dr.  Blair,  "  told  me  that  I 
must  go  instantly  with  him  to  the  Duchess  of  La 
Valliere.  When  I  excused  myself  on  account  of  dress, 
he  told  me  that  he  had  her  orders,  though  I  were  in 

1  Garat,  "  Memoires   historiques,"  2nd  ed.,  1821,  vol.  ii.,  p.  135. 

2  He  alludes  himself  to  those  resemblances  in  "Jacques  le 
Fataliste,"  and  makes  mention  of  his  "  estime  toute  particuliere  " 
for  Mr.  Sterne.  Shandeian  reminiscences  are  innumerable  in  the 
French  literature  of  the  day,  testifying  to  the  great  influence  and 
popularity  of  the  Dean  :  "  On  sait  quel  abus  on  a  fait  de  la  societe 
en  France  ;  aussi  personne  n'y  conserve-t-il  plus  rien  de  son  origi- 
nalite  naturelle  ;  toutes  les  physionomies  sont  les  memes  et  l'em- 
preinte  de  la  nature  en  est  effacee.  A  cet  egard  encore,  on  sait 
combien  les  Anglais  different  de  nous."  Thus  writes  a  Frenchman, 
who  does  nothing  but  appropriate  a  famous  passage  in  the  "  Senti- 
mental Journey"  {Character-Versailles);  "Journal  Anglais,"  August 
15,  1776. 

3  "Que  pour  l'amour  du  grec,  Monsieur,  on  vous  embrasse." 

Philaminte  to  Vadius,  "  Femmes  Savantes,"  iii.  5. 


288  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

boots.  I  accordingly  went  with  him  in  a  travelling 
frock,  where  I  saw  a  very  fine  lady  reclining  on  a  sofa, 
who  made  me  speeches  and  compliments  without 
bounds.  The  style  of  panegyric  was  then  taken  up  by 
a  fat  gentleman,  whom  I  cast  my  eyes  upon  and 
observed  him  to  wear  a  star  of  the  richest  diamonds — 
it  was  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  The  duchess  told  me  she 
was  engaged  to  sup  in  President  Henault's,  but  that 
she  would  not  part  with  me — I  must  go  along  with 
her.  The  good  President  received  me  with  open  arms, 
and  told  me,  among  other  fine  things,  that  a  few  days 
before,  the  Dauphin  said  to  him,  &c,  cVc,  &c."  I  The 
philosopher  declares  he  is  weary  of  so  many  compli- 
ments and  tired  by  that  unceasing  agitation.  He  adds, 
however,  that  he  is  half  inclined  to  settle  in  Paris, 
thus  making  the  comedy  complete. 

Garrick,  too,  came  to  France,  and  enthusiasm  reached 
its  highest  pitch.  People  envied  the  fate  of  the  British 
nation  who  possessed  such  a  man,  and  consoled  them- 
selves somewhat  with  the  thought  that  he  was  of 
French  origin.  Cochin  preserved  his  features  in  a  fine 
engraving  for  his  French  admirers.  Garrick  acted  in 
salons  scenes  from  Shakespeare  or  expressed  them  in 
dumb  show,  and  it  was  like  a  revelation.  Some  went 
to  London  in  order  to  hear  him,  and  admiration  knew 
no  bounds.  Colle  saw  him  in  Paris  in  1 75 1 ,  and 
wrote  in  his  Journal  :  "  I  dined  yesterday,  12th  of  this 
month  (of  July),  with  Garrick,  that  English  comedian  ; 
he  played  a  scene  from  a  tragedy  of  Shakespeare's, 
from   which    we    could    easily   gather    that    this   actor 

'  Paris,  April  6,  1765,  "Life  and  Correspondence  of  D.  Hume," 
ed.  Hill  Burton,  Edinburgh,  1846,  2  vols.,  8°,  vol.  ii.,  p.  268. 


GARRICK. 

By  C.  X.  Cochin. 
20 


[/>.  289. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  291 

amply  deserves  his  wide  reputation.  He  sketched  for 
us  the  scene  in  which  Macbeth  thinks  he  sees  a  dagger 
leading  him  towards  the  chamber  where  he  will  assassi- 
nate the  king.1  He  filled  us  with  terror.  It  is  not 
possible  better  to  picture  a  situation,  to  render  it  with 
more  warmth,  while  remaining  perfectly  self-possessed. 
His  face  expressed  every  passion  in  succession  ;  and 
there  was  no  grimacing,  though  this  scene  is  full  of 
awful  and  tumultuous  movements." 

Colle  and  Garrick  met  again  in  1765  ;  but  this  time 
the  meeting  ended  (for  Colle)  in  a  disaster  :  "  On 
Saturday,  the  5th  of  January,  I  gave  a  dinner  to 
Garrick,  that  famous  English  comedian  whom  I  had 
already  seen  in  Paris  fourteen  years  ago.  I  had  every 
reason  to  flatter  myself  he  would  give  my  wite  and  my 
guests  an  idea  of  his  talents,  by  acting  some  scenes  in 
dumb  show  ;  so  that  a  knowledge  of  English  should 
not  be  necessary.  I  had  seen  him  do  that  on  his  pre- 
vious journey.  But  it  proved  impossible  to  allure  him 
to  do  it  again  ;  he  was  in  a  bad  humour,  and  in  such  a 
mood  that  we  had  the  dullest  dinner  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life."  Colle  had  crammed  him  with  attentions,  had 
paid  him  a  number  of  visits,  and  had  even  read  to  him, 
on  his  asking,  his  comedy,  "  La  Verite  dans  le  vin  "  ; 
nothing   was   of  any  avail.      "  The   day    I    was  simple 


1  "  Is  this  a  dagger  which  I  see  before  me, 

The  handle  towards  my  hand  ?     Come,  let  me  clutch  thee  ; 

I  have  thee  not,  and  yet  I  see  thee  still. 

Art  thou  not,  fatal  vision,  sensible 

To  feeling  as  to  sight  ?  or  art  thou  but 

A  dagger  of  the  mind,  a  false  creation 

Proceeding  from  the  heat-oppressed  brain  ?  "  (ii.    1.) 


292  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

enough  to  receive  him  at  my  house,  I  busied  myself 
only  with  him  and  his  wife,  and  1  bored  myself  to  the 
best  of  my  powers,  speaking  only  of  England  and  of  all 
that  could  concern  those  two  animals.  At  dessert,  and 
though  I  had  a  cold,  I  sang  some  of  my  songs,  and  did 
not  spare  myself,  in  order  to  induce  him  to  do  the 
same  ;  it  was  all  in  vain."  Garrick  alleged,  with  a 
politeness  which  put  Colle  quite  beside  himself,  that  he 
had  eaten  too  well  "  to  be  able  to  act  anything."  The 
measure  is  full  ;  the  paper  at  least  must  know  the 
bitter  feelings  of  the  host,  and  the  Journal i  receives 
accordingly  the  confidence  that  Garrick  is  a  fop,  a  mere 
comedian,  "  and  even  a  good  comedian  is  nothing 
much,"  he  does  not  count  in  society  ;  "  common  con- 
sent has  assigned  him  a  rank  above  that  of  the 
hangman,  while  considering  him  as  less  useful." 
Indeed  !   .   .   . 

But  those  before  whom  Garrick  did  not  refuse  to 
perform  Macbeth  were  of  a  different  opinion.  Mar- 
montel,  who  was  among  the  privileged  ones  during 
this  journey,  wrote  to  him  the  next  day:  "Sleep  has 
not  removed,  sir,  the  impression  you  left  on  me,  and  I 
hope  it  will  ever  abide  ;  the  image  of  Macbeth  always 
present  before  my  eyes  will  be  to  me  the  intellectual 
model  of  theatrical  declamation  at  its  highest  point  of 
truth  and  vigour.  ...  If  we  had  actors  like  you,  there 
would  not  be  so  much  empty  talk  in  our  plays  ;  we 
should  allow  their  silence  to  speak,  and  it  would  be 
more  eloquent  than  our  verses.  ...  I  can  say  that  I 
have  seen  together  the  first  actor  and  the  first  actress  in 
the  world  (Clairon)  ;  but  I  see  with  sorrow  that  the 
1    "Journal  historiquc,"  1805,  vol.  i.,  p.  411,  and  vol.  iii.,  p.  152. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTL'RY.     PART  II  293 

same  theatre  will  never  hold  them."  Garrick,  for  his 
part,  would  have  liked  such  a  dream  to  be  realized,  not- 
withstanding the  difficulties  of  the  French  language 
and  the  impossibility  of  acquiring  the  right  accent, 
"  d'en  prendre  l'accent."  He  would  have  liked,  mix- 
ing as  he  did  with  French  actors,  "  to  play  French 
tragedy  and  comedy  with  them."  He  wished  also  the 
two  capitals  might  have  exchanged,  at  times,  their  best 
complete  troupes,  so  that  it  would  have  been  possible 
to  see  "  French  dramas  in  London  and  English  dramas 
in  Paris."  ! 

As  those  dreams  were  not  fulfilled,  people  went  to 
London  and  saw  Garrick  on  the  stage.  Madame 
Necker  went  in  1776  and  surpassed  even  Marmontel 
in  her  enthusiasm  :  "I  do  not  know,  sir,  where 
I  shall  find  words  to  render  the  terrifying  impression 
you  left  upon  me  yesterday  [in  '  Lear  ']  ;  you  made 
yourself  master  of  my  whole  soul  ;  it  was  convulsed 
by  your  acting  ;   it  was  filled  with  terror  and  pity.      I 

1  "Touche  de  la  reconnaissance  la  plus  vraie  pour  l'accueil  qu'il 
recevait  en  France,  Garrick  regrettait  beaucoup  qu'il  ne  lui  tut  pas 
aussi  possible  d'en  prendre  l'accent  que  d'en  apprendre  la  langue. 
Mele  aux  acteurs  de  Paris  et  sans  autre  retribution  que  le  plaisir 
qu'il  aurait  donne  et  le  succes  qu'il  aurait  pu  avoir,  il  eut  voulu 
jouer  avec  eux  la  comedie  et  la  tragedie  francaises.  .  .  .  Un  autre 
voeu  de  Garrick  ou  le  meme  avec  plus  de  grandeur  et  cependant 
plus  facile  a  remplir,  c'est  que  la  France  et  l'Angleterre,  pour 
faire  un  echange  de  leurs  plus  belles  jouissances,  s'envovassent 
de  temps  en  temps  leurs  meilleures  troupes  completes  et  qu'on  put 
voir  le  theatre  francais  a  Londres  et  le  theatre  anglais  a  Paris.  Eh  ! 
pourquoi,  dans  une  si  grande  proximite  serait  ce  plus  difficile  d'en 
faire  l'essai  que  d'entendre  les  bouffes  et  les  opera  seria  de  l'ltalie 
sur  tous  les  theatres  de  l'Europe  ?  "  Garat,  "  Memoires  historiques," 
Paris,  1 82 1,  vol.  ii.,  p.  133. 


294  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

cannot,  even  now,  recall  the  various  expressions  of 
your  face  without  my  eyes  filling  with  tears.  .  .  .  Oh  ! 
why  have  I  no  longer  the  authors  of  my  days ;  why  can 
I  not  pour  out  at  their  feet  the  sentiments  which  you 
awoke  in  my  mind,  and  shed  there  the  heartrending 
tears  which  you  called  forth  ?  " 

She  comes  back,  and  the  French  drama  seems  to  her 
a  tasteless  amusement,  "  after  the  wonders  she  has  seen 
in  London."  She  receives  a  letter  from  Garrick  "  and 
shows  it  with  pride  to  all  her  company."  Her  friends 
say  :  "  Tell  us  something  more  of  that  great  man  ; 
how  did  he  play  Hamlet,  King  Lear,  Sir  John  Brute  ? 
I  tell  them,  and  they  weep,  and  they  laugh.  .  .  ." 
Garrick  answers  in  the  same  style  :  the  epistle  he  has 
received  is  "  the  most  flattering,  charming,  bewitching 
letter  that  ever  came  to  my  hand.  ...  It  shall  be  left 
by  my  will  to  be  kept  in  the  famous  mulberry  box 
with  Shakespeare's  own  handwriting,  to  be  read  by  my 
children's  children  for  ever  and  ever."  Gibbon  was 
present  when  the  letter  came  :  "  Mr.  Gibbon,  our 
learned  friend  and  excellent  writer,  happened  to  be 
with  me  when  I  received  the  bewitching  letter."  The 
paper  was  handed  to  him  :  "  He  read,  stared  at  me, 
was  silent,  then  gave  it  me  with  these  emphatical  words 
emphatically  spoken  :  This  is  the  very  best  letter  that 
ever  was  written,  upon  which  a  la  mode  d'slng/eterre, 
the  writer  was  remembered  with  true  devotion,  and  in 
full  libations."     (November  10,  1776.) 

Garrick  had  become  a  power  in  France.  Young 
authors  appealed  to  him  :  "  This  letter,  sir,  is  sent  to 
you  by  a  man  who  has  the  honour  of  knowing  you 
only  by  reputation,  but  who  has  heard  from  London 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  295 

that  he  had  a  debt  of  gratitude  towards  you.  ...  I 
am  the  author  of  that  drama  of '  Eugenie.'  .  .  ."  Thus 
wrote  Beaumarchais  at  his  debut  (March  29,  1769). 
He  became  acquainted  with  Garrick  later,  wanted  to 
have  his  opinion  on  "  Le  Barbier  de  Seville  "  before  it 
was  performed,  read  it  to  him,  and  followed  his  advice  : 
"  Your  idea  of  opium  being  given  to  L'Eveille  and  of 
showing  him  asleep  on  the  stage  has  been  adopted 
without  demur."  He  took  hints  even  from  the 
"  smiles  full  of  finesse  and  meaning  of  Madame 
Garike "  (July  23,  1774).  French  comedians  in 
trouble  appealed  to  their  English  brother  and  asked 
for  his  help.  They  did  so  especially  on  the  occa- 
sion of  the  great  mishap,  of  1765,  when  they  were 
all  sent  to  the  For-1'Eveque  prison  for  having 
arrived  after  the  appointed  hour  at  the  play-house, 
where  a  numerous  audience  was  waiting  for  the  per- 
formance of  the  "  Siege  de  Calais."  l     The   play   was 

1  By  De  Belloy  ;  first  performance,  February  13,  1765.  The 
success  was  prodigious.  History  as  well  as  grammar  had  greatly 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  author  ;  but  enthusiasm  once  kindled 
went  on  increasing;  everything  in  the  play  was  admired,  even  such 
terrible  lines  as  these  : — 

"Le  Francais,  dans  son  prince,  aime  it  trouver  un  frere 
Qui  ne  fils  de  l'Etat  en  devienne  le  pere."     (iii.  4.) 

"The  answer  to  all  criticisms,"  say?  La  Harpe,  "was:  Are  you  not, 
then,  a  good  Frenchman  ?  .  .  .  Marshal  de  Noailles  alone  had  the 
courage  to  retort,  speaking  to  the  king  himself  :  I  wish  the  verses 
in  the  play  were  as  truly  French  as  I  am."  People  went  to  see 
Calais  on  account  of  the  tragedy  ;  Grosley  did  so  ;  De  Belloy  had 
received  the  freedom  of  Calais.  Then  a  reaction  set  in  and  never 
stopped:  "'The  Siege  of  Calais'  is  no  longer  admired  except  at 
Calais,"  Voltaire  wrote  in    1768   (to  Walpole,  July    15th). 


296  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

having  the  greatest  run  in  the  whole  century  ;  it  was 
given  as  a  free  entertainment  in  garrison  towns,  and 
was  honoured  three  times  with  the  presence  of  the 
king.  The  players  were  therefore  the  more  inexcusable. 
Letters  were  sent  to  Garrick  by  Mole,  Preville,  Le 
Kain,  the  impetuous  Clairon,  who  availed  herself  of  the 
occasion  to  unburden  her  heart  and  to  inform  Garrick 
that  the  "  worst  scoundrel,  the  falsest  and  wickedest  of 
men  was  M.  Le  Kain." 

Morellet  addressed  Garrick  as  :  "  mon  cher  Shake- 
speare," and  Grimm  as  :  "  illustre  Roscius  "  ;  Patu,  as 
early  as  1755,  prophesied  that  he  would  have  some  day 
"  a  mausoleum  at  Westminster."  Ducis  wanted  to 
have  his  portrait  before  his  eyes  while  at  work,  and 
wrote  to  him  :  "  My  soul  tries,  when  composing,  to 
assume  your  vigorous  attitudes  and  to  penetrate  within 
the  energetic  depths  of  your  genius."  His  help  was 
asked  in  favour  of  the  Calas  family  and  of  the  Sirvens. 
He  was  truly  a  power  in  the  State,  the  high  priest  of  a 
religion,  or,  according  to  others,  of  a  heresy  whose 
adherents  grew  in  numbers,  and  sang  his  praises  : 
"  Posterity  will  place  the  minister  by  the  side  of  the 
idol,  in  the  same  temple."  ! 

The  French  mind,  in  the  meanwhile,  reacted  upon 
English  literature  to  a  degree  scarcely  known  before. 
Anglomania  had  its  counterpart  in  London.  English 
critics  submitted  to  the  decrees  of  Pope,  who  had  him- 
self accepted  Boileau's.  Classical  ideas  gained  ground 
in  England  among  educated  people,  while  their  hold  on 

1  Abbe  Bonnet  to  Garrick,  April  19  (1766?).  "Correspondence 
of  David  Garrick,"  London,  1831,  2  vols.,  4",  vol.  ii.,  pp.  427,  439, 
476,  559,  608,  609,  617,  624,  625. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  II  ^97 

the  French  nation  began  to  slacken.  In  Paris,  Voltaire 
was  for  the  maintenance  of  rules,  but  tolerated  a  few 
liberties  ;  in  London,  Blair  was  for  the  acceptance  of 
the  unities  mitigated  by  a  few  licences.1  A  sort  of 
equilibrium  seemed  to  be  within  reach  ;  following 
opposite  directions,  the  two  roads  had  now  circled  the 
globe,  and,  after  a  century,  they  were  very  near  meeting 
again. 

The  distance  was  now  so  small  that  people  could 
hear  each  other,  and  it  was  possible  to  exchange, 
according  to  the  hour  or  temper,  blows  or  caresses, 
insults  or  compliments.  Madame  du  Deffand  placed 
English  novels  above  French  ones  ;  Walpole  answered 
with  praise  of  "  Athalie  "  and  of  French  tales  ;  2  the 
same  courteousness  was  shown  as  at  Fontenoy.  French 
ideas  had  made  such  progress  in  London  that  it  was 
considered  possible  to  play  "  Venice  Preserved  "  there, 
not  as  it  had  been  written  by  Otway,  but  with  the 
emendations  introduced  in  it  by  La  Place  in  view  of  a 
Paris  audience. 3  Though  De  Belloy  owed  his  fame  to 
the  patriotic  feelings  of  his  Parisian  hearers  much  more 
than  to  his  own  talents,  his  celebrity  as  an  author 
spread  beyond  the  Channel,  and  Garrick  made  arrange- 
ments for    one  of   his   tragedies   to    be    performed    at 

1  "Lectures  on  Rhetoric,"  London,  17S3. 

2  "Depuis  vos  romans,  il  m'est  impossible  de  lire  aucun  des 
notres."  Madame  du  Deffand  to  Walpole,  August  8,  1773. 
Walpole  answers  :  "  Dans  '  Gil  Bias '  rien  n'est  force.  .  .  .  je 
conviendrai  de  tout  ce  que  vous  me  dites  d'  '  Athalie,'  mais  '  Tom 
Jones'  ne  me  fait  pas  la  moindre  impression." 

3  The  "  Venise  "  of  La  Place  "a  eu  ici  (in  London)  le  plus 
grand  succes."  "  Observateur  Francais,"  London  and  Paris,  1  769 
ff,  vol.  iv.,  p.  396. 


298  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Drury  Lane.  There  was  a  lutte  de  generosite  :  Garrick 
was  not  stopped  by  the  remembrance  of  De  Belloy's 
anti-English  lines,  and  De  Belloy  declined  to  receive 
any  royalty.1  Madame  Riccoboni,  on  the  other  hand, 
gave  up  the  idea  of  translating  English  tragedies  :  the 
old  ones  are  too  well  known  in  France,  she  said,  "  and 
the  new  ones  are  too  much  like  ours."  2  Gibbon  began 
his  literary  career  with  an  "  Essai  sur  l'etude  de  la 
Litterature,"  which  he  wrote  in  French  and  printed  in 
London,  1762.  In  the  English  capital,  writes  a  visitor, 
who  takes  an  optimist's  view,  "  three-quarters  of  the 
inhabitants  speak  or  understand  French."  3 

The  opinion  of  critics  on  Shakespeare  was  becoming 

I   more   and   more  similar  in  the  two  countries.     While 

(    the   amount   of  praise  bestowed  upon  him  was  on  the 

increase   in    France,   many  a   literary   man    in    London 


1  De  Belloy  to  Garrick,  November  2,  1772  :  "Je  ne  demande 
rien  que  la  gloire  de  plaire  a  votre  nation  .  .  .  toute  idee  d'interet 
degradcrait  la  noble  ambition  dont  je  suis  anime.  .  .  .  Encore  une 
fois,  je  ne  veux  absolument  rien."  Garrick  had  alluded  to  the 
"  conditions  a  faire  "  between   them. 

2  Preface  of  her  "  Nouveau  Theatre  Anglois,"  1769. 

3  Monnct,  "Supplement  au  Roman  Comiquc,"  London,  1772, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  32.  The  "  universality"  of  the  French  language  was  in 
fact  scarcely  contested  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  it  was 
nothing  but  a  commonplace  subject  the  Berlin  Academy  proposed 
to  competitors  in  1783.  "On  parlc  aujourd'hui  francais  a  Vienne, 
Stokholm  ct  Moscou,"  wrote  Voltaire  to  Madame  du  Deffand 
(October  13,  1759)  '■>  anc*  Rutlcdge,  who  did  not  bear  any  great 
love  to  France  and  to  the  French,  said  :  "  Une  preuve  qui  ne  leur 
parait  pas  moins  convaincante  de  la  grandc  idee  que  l'Europe  a 
d'eux,  e'est  lc  vaste  empire  de  leur  languc  qu'ils  regardent  comme 
1111  avcu  general  de  sa  perfection."  "Essai  sur  les  caractercs  des 
Francais,"  London,  1776. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTLRY.     PART  II         299 

gloried  in  scorning  the  gigantomachies  of  the  Stratford 
bard.  "  We  do  not  deserve,"  wrote  Chesterfield  to 
Madame  de  Tencin,  "  the  honour  you  do  us  of  trans- 
lating our  plays  and  novels.  Your  theatre  conforms 
too  closely  to  rules,  is  too  chastened  to  admit  most  of 
our  dramas  ;  our  authors  carry  not  only  liberty  but 
licence  far  beyond  the  limits  of  decency  and  probability. 
I  do  not  think  we  have  as  many  as  six  which  could  be 
accepted  by  you  in  their  original  state.  It  would  be 
quite  necessary  to  recast  them."  He  declared  else- 
where that  he  preferred  the  French  theatre  to  all  others, 
including  even  the  drama  of  the  ancients,  "  with  all  the 
reverence  I  owe  them." 

Hume  thinks  "  there  may  remain  a  suspicion  that 
we  overrate,  if  possible,  the  greatness  of  the  genius 
[of  Shakespeare],  in  the  same  manner  as  bodies  often 
appear  more  gigantic  on  account  of  their  being  dis- 
proportioned  and  misshapen."  He  considers  him,  as 
Voltaire  did,  a  prodigy,  given  the  time  when  he  lived 
and  his  total  want  of  "  any  instruction "  ;  but  "  if 
represented  as  a  poet  capable  of  furnishing  a  proper 
entertainment  to  a  refined  or  intelligent  audience,  we 
must  abate  much  of  this  eulogy."  Hume  tries,  how- 
ever, to  show  that  he  is  capable  of  judging  with  im- 
partiality the  produce  of  a  semi-barbarous  age,  and  he 
finds,  therefore,  some  extenuating  circumstances  and 
excuses  for  Shakespeare's  "  total  ignorance  of  all 
theatrical  art  and  conduct."  ' 

1  "History  of  England,  containing  the  reigns  or  James  Land 
Charles  I.,"  Edinburgh,  1754,  40.  Pope  deplored  in  the  same  way 
that  Shakespeare  had  composed  his  plays  in  view  of  "  the  people 
and  writ,  at  first,  without  the  patronage  from  the  better  sort   .   .   . 


3oo  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

The  pleasure  Gibbon  felt  in  seeing  Voltaire  play  in 
his  own  tragedies  increased  his  fondness  for  classical 
dramas  :  it  "  fortified  my  taste  for  the  French  theatre, 
and  that  taste  has  perhaps  abated  my  idolatry  for  the 
gigantic  genius  of  Shakespeare,  which  is  inculcated  from 
our  infancy  as  the  first  duty  of  an  Englishman."  l 
Even  in  the  land  of  its  birth  the  Shakespearean  religion 
had  its  nonconformists,  who  were,  as  we  see,  men  of 
account. 

Garrick  even,  Garrick  the  minister  of  the  idol,  who 
wrote  to  a  young  actor,  "  never  let  your  Shakespeare 
be  out  of  your  hands  or  your  pocket  ;  keep  him  about 
you  as  a  charm,"  2  was  sometimes,  in  his  inmost  soul, 
ashamed  of  his  hero.  He  would  never  have  confessed 
it  in  the  presence  of  a  disrespectful  foreigner,  and  if 
some  Abbe  Morellet  or  other  raised  his  voice,  he  flew  to 
the  defence  of  his  god  :  "  He  rushed  towards  me," 
says  the  Abbe  in  his  "  Memoires,"  "like  a  madman, 
calling  me  French  dog."  But,  left  to  himself,  he  ex- 
purgated the  theatre  of  Shakespeare,  made  it  more 
regular,  polished  it  according  to  his  own  taste,  and 
tried  to  cover  the  nakedness  of  his  master.  He  put 
Shakespeare's  plays  on  the  stage,  not  as  they  were,  but 

without  the  knowledge  of  the  best  models,  the  ancients."  The 
dramatist  improved  when  he  had  secured  "the  protection  of  his 
prince  and  the  encouragement  of  the  Court."  Preface  to  the 
"Works  of  Shakespeare  .  .  .  by  Mr.  Pope,"  1725.  Cf.  Gildon  : 
"The  highest  praise  we  can  justly  give  our  magnified  Shakespeare 
is  only  that  he  was  a  great  master  of  dialogues,  but  not  that  of  a 
tragic  poet."  "The  Complete  Art  of  Poetry,  in  Six  Parts." 
London,    17 18,    2    vols.,    12°,   dial,   iv.,   p.    222. 

'  "  Memoirs  of  my  life." 

-'   To  Powell,  Paris,  December  11,  1764. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         301 

as  he  would  have  wished  them  to  be  :  he  suppressed 
the  grave-digger's  scene  in  "  Hamlet,"  running  the 
risk  of  having  "  the  benches  thrown  at  his  head  "  by 
the  rabble,  but  sure  thereby  to  obtain  the  approbation 
of  Voltaire.1  He  gave  a  "King  Lear"  with  a  happy 
ending  ;  he  awoke  Juliet  before  the  death  of  Romeo ; 
and  never  allowed  old  Capulet  to  call  his  daughter 
"green-sickness  carrion,"  nor  any  such  names. 
"  Winter's  Tale  "  became  in  his  hands  "  Florizel 
and  Perdita  "  ;  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  "  became 
"  The  Fairies  "  ;  "Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  "  Catherine 
and  Petruccio  "  ;  Bianca  lost  her  lovers  and  the  play 
its  drunkard.2  He  built  a  temple  to  Shakespeare  in 
Greek  style,  a  rather  alarming  honour.  "  On  an  artifi- 
cial hill  overlooking  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and 
divided  from  the  garden  by  a  continuous  row  of  laurel 
trees  and  evergreens,  rises  a  little  temple  built  with  as 
much  solidity  as  elegance  in  fine  Portland  stone.  It  is 
round-shaped,  surmounted  by  a  cupola  of  about  twenty 
feet   in    diameter.      The   gate    is  adorned  with   a  pro- 


1  As  well  as  the  praise  of  Moreilet,  La  Place,  &c.  La  Place 
wrote  to  him  :  "  Recevez  tous  mes  compliments  sur  vos  succes 
nouveaux  et  surtout  sur  celui  de  la  tres  hasardeuse  entreprise  que 
vous  avez  tentee  dans  la  reprise  de  la  tragedie  d'Hamlet.  J'aurois, 
d'honneur,  fremi  pour  vous  (car  je  connois  la  populace  angloise) 
de  vous  voir  assez  temeraire  pour  la  priver  de  la  scene  des  tossoveurs 
qui,  de  tout  temps,  a  fait  ses  delices,"  January  24,  1772.  Con- 
gratulations of  Moreilet,  January  14,  1 77-}-.  Voltaire  declared  himself 
"enchante"  with  the  catastrophe  in  "Romeo"  as  Garrick  "en  a 
peint  les  circonstances "  (Patu  to  Garrick,  Geneve,  November  1, 
1755).  He  rejoiced  at  the  disappearance  of  the  grave-diggers 
(Letter  to  the  Academy  on  Shakespeare,  1776). 

2  "Dramatic  Works  of  David  Garrick,"  London,  1798,  3  vol.  8°. 


2,02  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

truding  pediment,  supported  in  antique  fashion  by  two 
detached  columns.  Inside  the  temple  stands  a  life- 
size  statue  of  Shakespeare,  the  work  of  Roubillac,  in 
fine  Carrara  marble."  Grosley,  who  gives  these  par- 
ticulars and  had  visited  the  temple  in  1765,  adds: 
"  M.  Garric  does  the  honours  of  the  building  in  a  way 
that  brings  out  still  more  its  merit  :  '  I  owe  everything 
to  Shakespear,'  he  says  ;  si  vivo  et  va/eo,  suum  est :  this 
is  a  slight  token  of  a  boundless  gratitude."  The 
temple  was  Greek  and  the  statue  French,.  Roubillac 
being  a  native  of  Lyons  and  a  pupil  of  Coustou.  The 
temple  soon  became  one  of  the  shrines  most  frequently 
visited  by  the  literary  pilgrims  who  now  flocked  in 
large  numbers  to  England.  Le  Kain  went  to  see  it, 
and  could  not  find  words  to  express  his  rapture, 
"  peindre  son  extase  ;  "  '  while  Delille  "  interrogated 
the  harmonious  grotto  "  of  Pope,  and  others  went  to 
visit  the  famous  summer  house  of  Hammersmith,  and 
weep  over  the  inkstand  of  Richardson. 

For  people  wept  profusely.  In  spite  of  low  morals, 
wars,  the  growth  of  scepticism,  the  partition  of  Poland, 
the  impending  Revolution,  Europe  was  becoming  senti- 
mental. Rousseau  had  come  ;  tears  were  the  fashion  ; 
tears   had  revealed  to  him  his  vocation  :   "  I   saw    the 

1  To  Garrick,  April  4,  1766.  Statues  (not  to  speak  of  temples) 
erected  to  famous  writers  were  not  so  common  then  as  now,  and 
Garrick's  undertaking  excited  a  proportionate  wonder.  The  French 
admirers  of  Shakespeare  were  loud  in  their  praise  ;  his  detractors  not 
less  loud  in  their  blame.  Patu,  an  admirer,  congratulated  Garrick 
upon  "his  noble  enterprise  at  Hampton.  Our  actors  have  not  the 
same  zeal  for  the  memory  of  Corneille,  the  reason  being  that  they 
have  not  your  gifts  and  are  not  so  high-soulcd  as  you  are,"  May  6, 
1755.      He  recurs  to  the  subject  on  June  18,  1755. 


THE  SECOND  STATUE  RAISED  TO  SHAKESPEARE.  THE  WORK  OF  A 
FRENCHMAN,  I.OITS  FRANCOIS  ROEBILLAC,  OF  LYONS,  ORDERED 
BY   GARRICK.  '  p    jjyj 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II         305 

front  of  my  vest  all  wet  with  tears,  though  I  had  not 
felt  I  was  weeping."  He  made  hereupon  his  debut  in 
the  world  of  letters,  and  published  his  "  Memoire  "  to 
the  Academy  of  Dijon  (1750).  The  die  is  cast;  Emile 
will  weep,  Sophie  will  sob,  and  Julie  faint  ;  good 
company  will  be  seized  with  "  a  frantic  appetite  for 
strong  emotions."  l  Mistelet  prints  an  essay  on 
"  Sensibility  with  reference  to  Dramas,  Novels  and 
Education,"  and  teaches  methodically  that,  above  all, 
one  must  be  sensible  :  "  Whoso  loves  well  a  lover, 
loves  well  also  a  father  and  a  mother,  and  will  love 
well  children,  friends,  and  humanity."  2  Voltaire 
reading  his  own  "  Tancrede,"  shed  a  flood  of  tears, 
and  the  fat  Madame  Denis  a  torrent  ;  3  Marmontel 
paying  a  visit  to  Voltaire  at  Les  Delices,  was  asked  by 
his  host  to  read  the  play,  and  when  he  returned  the 
manuscript  his  face  was  "  soaked  with  tears."  4 

People  admired  nature,  and  dreamed  of  living  the  lite 
of  shepherds.  Worldly  Voltaire  discovered  that  "  poets 
had    been    quite     right     to    praise    pastoral    life  ;     the 


1  Preface  by  Chastellux  for  "La  Fausse  Sensibilite,"  by  the 
Marquise  de  Gleon,  "Recueil  de  Comedies  Nouvelles,"  Paris, 
1787,  8°. 

2  "De  la  sensibilite  par  rapport  aux  Drames,  aux  Romans  et  a 
l'Education,"  Amsterdam  and  Paris,  1777,  8°,  p.  49. 

3  "La  niece  de  Voltaire  est  a  mourir  de  rire  :  c'est  une  petite 
grosse  femme  toute  ronde,  d'environ  cinquante  ans  .  .  .  laide,  et 
bonne,  menteuse  sans  le  vouloir  et  sans  mechancete  .  .  .  criant, 
decidant,  politiquant,  versifiant,  raisonnant,  deraisonnant,  et  tout 
cela  sans  trop  de  pretentions  et  surtout  sans  choquer  personne." 
— Madame  d'Epinav  to  Grimm,  "  Memoires  de  Madame  d'Epinay," 
Paris,  Charpentier,  ii.,  p.  421. 

*  Marmontel,  "  Memoires  d'un  pere,"  book  vii. 

21 


306  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

happiness  attached  to  rustic  occupations  is  not  an  idle 
fancy ;  and  I  find  more  pleasure  in  ploughing,  sowing, 
planting,  and  gathering  than  in  writing  tragedies  and 
having  them  represented."  That  was  saying  much. 
Men  tried  to  live  the  life  of  the  heroes  in  "  Astree," 
the  famous  pastoral  of  d'Urfe,  which  had  never  ceased 
to  be  fashionable,  and  the  royal  shepherdesses  of 
Versailles  went  to  milk  cows  in  the  hamlet  of  Trianon. 
They  spent  whole  nights  dreaming  under  the  stars, 
they  enjoyed  the  coolness  of  the  morning,  and  went 
to  bed  after  having  partaken  of  onion  soup  in  the 
fashion  of  real  shepherds.  Madame  Victoire,  daughter 
of  Louis  XV.,  writes  to  the  Countess  of  Chastellux  : 
"  You  know  that  I  spent  the  night  of  Thursday 
to  Friday  in  the  garden.  How  beautiful  the  sun 
was  when  it  rose,  and  what  fine  weather  !  I  went 
to  bed  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  after  having 
eaten  for  my  breakfast  an  excellent  onion  soup.  .  .  . 
I  was  truly  pleased  with  the  fine  weather,  the  beautiful 
moon,  the  dawn,  the  beautiful  sun,  and  then  with  my 
cows,  sheep  and  poultry,  and  with  the  movement  of 
all  the  workmen  who  began   their  task  gaily."  1 

Such  sentiments,  very  unfrequent  formerly,  were 
now  extremely  common.  Parks  were  adorned  with 
artificially  disposed  sites,  and  artificially  simple  build- 
ings, meant  to  appeal  to  the  nice  sentiments  in  tender 
hearts.  The  Comte  d'Albon,  Prince  of  Yvetot,  had 
had   a   "  retreat    for  shepherds  "    erected    in    his    park 


1  From  Bcllcvuc,  near  Paris,  August  7,  1787.  J.  Soury,  "  Lcs 
Fillcs  de  Louis  XV.,"  in  the  "Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,"  June  15, 
1874. 


— : *, — , %y?x- 

l'azile  dks  bergers. 

The  Retreat  of  Shepherds  in  the  Pare  a  I'Anglaise  of  Count  d'Albou, 

at  Franconville.  [p.  307. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  309 

at  Franconville  in  the    Montmorency  Valley  ;  he  had 
also  there  a  number  of  temples,  columns,  pyramids,  and 
grottoes,  all  with  a  touching  meaning.     An  altar  was 
erected  in  the  park  to  his  only  love  :  strange  to  say,  and 
rare  sight  for  the  epoch,  the  bust  on  the  altar  displayed 
no  other  effigy  but   that  of  the  Countess  d'Albon,  his 
wife.     Pastoral  life  won  unexpected  adepts.      "  Wander 
in  the  country,"  we  read  in  a  work  of  the  same  period, 
"  take  shelter  in  the  lowly  hut  of  the  shepherd  ;  spend 
the  night  stretched  on  skins,  the  fire  burning  at  your  feet. 
What  a  situation  !  the  clock  is  heard  striking  twelve, 
all  the  cattle  of  the  neighbourhood  come  out  to  graze  ; 
their    lowing    mingles   with    the    voice   of   the    herds- 
men.     Remember  it  is  midnight.      What  a   moment 
to  retire   within    yourself  and  meditate  on  the    origin 
of  nature  while  tasting  the  most  exquisite  delights  !  " 
The   author  of  these   effusions,   of  this    "  very  dream 
.    .    .    the    work    perhaps    of  a    man    of   feeling,"    as 
the    academicians    said    who    had    to    pass    judgment 
upon  it,  was  a  lieutenant  of  artillery,  called  Napoleon 
Bonaparte.1 

The    former    austerity    in    manners    and    tastes    was 
waning.       The    time    is    no    more    when     Racine    and 


1  "  Egarez  vous  dans  la  campagne,  refugiez  vous  dans  la  chetive 
cabane  du  berger  ;  passez  y  la  nuit  couche  sur  des  peaux,  le  feu  a 
vos  pieds.  Ouelle  situation  !  minuit  sonne  :  tous  les  bestiaux  des 
environs  sortent  pour  paitre  ;  leur  belement  se  marie  a  la  voix 
des  conducteurs  :  il  est  minuit,  ne  l'oubliez  pas.  Ouel  moment 
pour  rentrer  en  nous-memes  et  pour  mediter  sur  l'origine  de  la 
nature  en  savourant  les  delices  les  plus  exquises." — "Discours  sur 
la  question  proposee  par  l'Academie  de  Lyon,"  in  Masson,  "  Napo- 
leon inconnu,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  303. 


310  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Boileau  addressed  each  other  as  "  Monsieur  "  after  an 
intimacy  of  thirty-five  years.  From  the  first  meeting 
the  word  is  now  considered  too  stilted  :  "  Let  us  drop  the 
Monsieur,  dear  Moulton,"  writes  Rousseau,  "I  cannot 
bear  that  word  between  men  who  love  and  esteem  each 
other  ;  I  shall  do  my  best  to  deserve  that  you  should 
not  use  it  any  more  with  me."  If  Monsieur  disappears, 
sentimental  nicknames  swarm  in  conversations  and 
private  letters  of  the  period  :  Panpan,  Panpichon, 
Beloved-Panpichon-of-the-Indies  (Panpichon  cheri  des 
Indes)  ;  d'Argental  is  the  "  cher  ange "  of  Voltaire. 
No  more  gardens  "a  la  franchise,"  nothing  of  that 
former  love  for  straight  lines  and  rectitude  ;  high 
ways  themselves  should  not  be  in  a  straight  line. 
"  The  country,"  observes  with  regret  a  tender-hearted 
officer  of  dragoons,  "  is  crossed  in  all  directions  by  the 
long,  straight  lines  of  highways  bordered  with  trees 
pruned  into  the  shape  of  brooms  ;  the  protracted 
monotony  of  those  straight-line  roads  is  most  weari- 
some for  the  traveller  .  .  .  Their  artificial  regularity 
is  in  absolute  opposition  to  nature.  .  .  .  Laying  out  by 
line  as  well  as  pruning  ought  to  be  proscribed."  J 
Saint  Preux,  on  the  other  hand,  writes  to  "  milord 
Edouard  "  (in  Rousseau's  "  Nouvelle  Helo'ise  ")  : 
"  The  man  of  taste  will  give  nothing  to  symmetry  that 
enemy  of  nature.  The  two  sides  of  his  alleys  will  not 
always  run  parallel  ;  their  direction  will   not  always  be 

1  "  Dc  la  composition  des  paysages  ou  dcs  moycns  d'cmbcllir  la 
nature  autour  dcs  habitations  en  joignant  l'agreable  a  Futile,"  by  R. 
L.  Gerardin,  "  Mcstrc  dc  camp  dc  dragons,  chevalier  dc  l'ordre 
royal  ct  militaire  dc  Saint  Louis,"  Geneva  and  Paris,  1777, 
8°,  pp.  59,  127. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         311 

in  a  straight  line  ;  there  will  be  something  vague 
about  them  recalling  the  gait  of  an  idle  man  who 
wanders  in  his  walk."  And  these  winding  alleys,  with 
their  "  je  ne  sais  quoi  de  vague,"  laid  out  by  philo- 
sophers, led  the  nation,  amidst  rivulets  and  flowers,  to 
the  song  of  birds,  no  one  knew  whither.  It  was  like 
a  springtide,  a  thawing  of  the  snows ;  no  one  re- 
membered that  the  time  of  melting  snows  is  also  the 
season  of  avalanches  and  over- flowing  torrents. 


II. 

The  theatre,  as  might  be  expected,  felt  the  influence 
of  this  new  state  of  mind.  Plots,  scenery,  costumes, 
acting  were  modified  ;  there  was  a  visible  shifting  of 
the  dramatic  ideal.  Abbe  Du  Bos,  full  of  the  old  ideas, 
still  made,  in  the  first  part  of  the  century,  the  apology 
of  the  theatrical  conventions  of  the  past  age.  He  did 
not  contest  their  arbitrariness,  far  from  it  :  he  praised 
them  as  conventions,  and  because  they  swerved  from 
nature  :  "As  the  object  of  tragedy,"  he  said,  "is  to 
excite  terror  and  pity,  and  as  the  marvellous  is  a 
component  part  of  the  poem,  all  the  dignity  possible 
must  be  bestowed  upon  the  persons  acting  in  it.  Such 
is  the  reason  why  those  persons  are  usually  dressed 
to-day  in  costumes  which  are  the  produce  of  pure 
fancy  (imagines  a  plaisir) "- — those  costumes  a  la 
Romaine  spoken  of  by  Chappuzeau,  and  which  cost 
five  hundred  crowns — "  The  first  idea  of  those 
costumes  is  derived  from  the  war  garments  of  the 
ancient    Romans,    a    garment    noble    in    itself,   and,   it 


312  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

would  seem,  connected,  to  some  extent,  with  the  glory 
of  the  nation  which  wore  it.  The  dresses  of  the 
actresses  are  as  rich  and  majestic  as  imagination  can 
invent."  Imagination  was,  in  fact,  the  mainstay  of  the 
costumier's  art  in  those  days.  The  delivery  suited  the 
dresses  :  "  The  French  do  not  consider  that  dresses 
are  enough  to  give  the  tragic  actors  a  befitting  noble- 
ness and  dignity.  They  want  them  also  to  speak  in  a 
tone  of  voice  higher,  deeper,  and  better  sustained  than 
that  of  ordinary  conversation."  This  "  style  of 
delivery  is,  it  is  true,  harder  to  enjoy,"  but  it  has  more 
dignity.  Acting  must  accord  with  the  voice  :  "  We 
want  the  actors  to  give  an  air  of  grandeur  and  dignity 
to  all  they  do." 

These  counsels  were  exactly  followed.  The  Abbe 
Du  Bos,  member  of  the  French  Academy,  a  diplomate 
and  a  man  of  letters,  honoured  with  the  praise  of 
Voltaire,  was  an  acknowledged  authority  ;  between 
1 71 9  and  1746,  his  book  had  been  issued  five  times.1 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  century,  Caesar  might  still 
be  seen  on  the  stage,  amply  periwigged,  "en  perruque 
carree  "  ;  Ulysses  "  came  out  of  the  waves,  carefully 
powdered  "  ;  Pharasmane  (in  Crebillon's  "  Rhada- 
miste  "),  dressed  in  cloth  of  gold,  descanted  before  the 
ambassador   of  Rome,  on    the  wild  nature  of  his  own 


1  "Reflexions  critiques  sur  la  Poesie  et  la  Peinture  par  M. 
l'abbe  Du  Bos,  l'un  des  quarantc  dc  l'Academie  Francaise,"  Paris, 
1746,  3  vols.,  120  (5th  ed.).  The  sale  of  the  book  decreased  in  the 
second  half  of  the  century.  Abbe  Du  Bos,  1670-1742,  knew 
foreign  countries,  spoke  English,  and  fulfilled  numerous  diplomatic 
missions  in  England,  Italy,  and  Germany.  He  translated  into 
French    the    first   scenes    of   Addison's    "  Cato." 


THEATRICAL   DECLAMATION-. 

By  Eiscti,  1766.  [/>.  313. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTLTtY.     PARI  II  315 

country    where    they    knew    nothing    but 
soldiers  "  : — 

"  La  ni:    '-  .        .-  ifireas  rlimats, 

A    tragic    actor    never    forgot    what    dignity 
manners   demanded    of  him  :     "The    actress    Duelos 
was   playing   in  L  Les  Horaces';    towards  -    :   of 

her  imprecations  she  has  to  go  away  in  a  passion 
everybody  knows  ;  she  got  entangled  in  the  folds  of 
her  train,  which  was  a  very  long  one,  and  fell.     The 
audience  saw  thereupon  the  actor  who  played  the 
of  Horace  take  otf  his  hat  courteously  witi 
offer  the  other  to  the  actress,  lead  her  to  the  coulisse, 
and  then,  putting  on  his  hat  again  with  great  dignity, 
kill  her  according  to  the  book."  : 

Some  attention   is   now   paid    to    truth,   nature, 
history,  and  a  change  begins  during  the  second  part  of 
the  century  :  but  a  slov.  _-. 

fill  was  fashion.  The  encyclopa  1  sts  scarcely  hoped  to 
see  it  altered:  "We  know  that  our  remarks  will  be 
fruitless."  they  said  in  1  -  54.  But  their  remarks  pro- 
duced some  fruit,  however,  and  in  Voltaire's  "Orph€ 
de  la  Chine."  Mademoiselle  Clairon  wis  seen  to  appear 
se,"   which  consisted   in   playing   with   bare 


:   "  I  xlie,  rd  ■•  D  . :  2  .  .  1  ~  54. 

1  Mercier,   "  Tab  a  Paris,  soS       Marie     -. 

CMteaun.  1  .  II  -:-;-_•.   nude   her  !         the 

-    ""•-".  :  "  .  :.  *e  -  ■  ■        she  :      - 

sider^  C 

Duchc  jed  1 7 . 


316  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

arms  and  no  paniers  :  the  knowledge  of  China  went 
no  further.  Le  Kain  also  tried  a  few  timid  reforms, 
but  without  carrying  them  very  far.  "  Had  he," 
wrote  Talma  later,  "  risked  bare  arms,  hair  without 
powder,  long  draperies,  woollen  garments,  had  he 
dared  shock  to  that  degree  the  rules  of  decorum 
followed  in  those  days  :  that  severe  garb  would  then 
have  been  regarded  as  a  very  untidy  and  more  par- 
ticularly as  a  very  indecent  style  of  dress."  To  com- 
plete the  reform,  it  required  the  authority  of  Talma 
himself,  the  help  of  "  our  celebrated  David "  the 
painter,  who  accustomed  the  eye  to  plain  Roman 
costumes,  and  above  all  it  required  the  lapse  of 
years.1 

It  was  the  same  for  declamation.  Some  efforts  with 
a  view  to  following  nature  more  closely  were  made,  but 
very  timidly,  for  these  attempts  were  far  from  meeting 
with  universal  approbation.  If  you  limit  yourself  to 
following  nature,  declared  the  old  connoisseurs,  you  are 
no  longer  artists.  "The  natural  acting  which  M. 
Diderot  recommends,"  wrote  Madame  du  Deffand, 
"has  produced  the  excellent  result  of  causing  Agrippina 
to  be  acted  in  the  style  of  a  fish-wife.  Neither 
Mademoiselle  Clairon,  nor  Le  Kain  are  real  actors, 
they  all  play  according  to  their  nature  and  condition, 
and  not  according  to  that  of  the  personages  they 
represent."  2 

1  "  Memoires  dc  Lc  Kain,  precedes  de  Reflexions  par  Talma," 
I  825,  pp.  xviii.,  ft". 

2  L.  Percy  and  G.  Maugras,  "  Voltaire  aux  Delices,"  1885,  p.  12?. 
For  a  long  time  those  attempts  had  little  effect  ;  as  late  as  the  days 
of  "  Corinne,"    1807,    Madame    de    Stacl    could  write:    "II    taut 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  317 

In  a  measure  more  marked,  the  very  essence  of  plays, 
their  aim,  composition,  and  dramatic  springs,  were 
being  modified.  The  old  gaiety  of  comedy  and  the  old 
rigour  of  tragedy  were  being  gradually  attenuated  in 
France  ;  a  period  of  equality  was  beginning ;  Mel- 
pomene was  loosening  her  belt  ;  Thalia  was  shedding 
tears.  La  Chaussee  had  become  the  head  of  a  school, 
and  the  movement  showed  itself  so  strong  that  the 
most  rebellious  were  carried  away  by  it  ;  Voltaire 
passed  indignant  judgments  on  La  Chaussee,  but 
wrote  (  nevertheless  tearful  "  larmoyantes  "  comedies, 
an  "  Ecossaise  "  and  a  "Nanine,"  yielding,  like  every 
one,  to    the   influence   of   Richardson.1      Tragedies   in 

d'autant  plus  de  genie  pour  etre  un  grand  acteur  en  France  qu'il  / 
y  a  fort  peu  de  liberte  pour  la  maniere  individuelle,  tant  les  regies 
generales  prennent  d'espace.  Mais  en  Angleterre  on  peut  tout 
risquer  si  la  nature  l'inspire.  Les  longs  gemissements  qui  paraissent 
ridicules  quand  on  les  raconte  font  tressaillir  quand  on  les  entend. 
L'actrice  la  plus  noble  dans  ses  manieres,  Madame  Siddons,  ne  perd 
rien  de  sa  dignite  quand  elle  se  prosterne  contre  terre.''  Bk.  xvii. 
chap.  iv.  The  true  reform  of  tragic  declamation  took  place  very  late. 
Talma  himself  had,  we  hear,  a  sing-song  declamation  :  "Talma  n'est 
sublime  que  dans  des  mots  ;  ordinairement,  des  qu'il  y  a  quinze  ou 
vingt  vers  a  dire,  il  chante  un  peu  ;  l'on  pourrait  battre  la  mesure 
de  sa  declamation."  (Stendhal,  "Racine  et  Shakespeare,"  1st  ed., 
1823.) 

1  "  Nanine  ou  le  Prejuge  vaincu  "  (in  verse,  1749);  tne  "  Pr^ 
juge  "  is  that  of  birth  ;  it  is  the  story  of  Pamela;  it  had  been  that 
of  Griselda.  In  the  "Ecossaise"  (in  prose,  1760),  there  were  the 
"larmoyant"  role  of  Lindane,  and  the  ignoble  role  of  Frelon 
(Freron  ;  he  was  present  at  the  first  performance  with  his  wife,  who 
fainted).  Many  Pamelas,  not  to  mention  La  Chaussee's  (and 
Goldoni's),  many  Clarissas  and  Tom  Joneses,  were  put  on  the  stage 
in  France :  "  Pamela  ou  la  Vertu  recompensed,  par  le  citoyen 
Francois  de   Neufchateau,   Paris,  an   III."  (ideas  have   progressed  ; 


318  SHAKESPEARE  IK  FRANCE 

prose  were  multiplying  in  spite  of  his  protestations  ; 
he  could  sometimes  prevent  their  being  played,  but 
not  their  being  written.  Sedaine,  who  counted  upon 
a  success  equal  to  that  of  the  "Siege  de  Calais,"  had, 
thanks  to  him,  to  be  content  with  the  applause  of 
the  Swedes  and  Russians  for  his  "  Maillard  ou  Paris 
sauve,  tragedie  en  prose,  tiree  de  l'histoire  de  France, 
annee  1358."  i 

After  Rousseau,  every  one  in  turn  indulged  in 
the  pleasure  of  discovering  humanity :  every  type  of 
the  human  race  was  studied  and  became  interesting 
to  tender-hearted  naturalists  :  bourgeois  and  common- 
place people  were  admitted  to  the  honours  of  heroship 
in   plays   which   were    neither   comedies   nor    tragedies 

mylord  Bonfil  declares  in  this  play  that  his  mesalliance  "  honours  " 
his  race) ;  "  Pamela  marice  on  le  Triomphc  des  Epouses,"  by 
Pellctier  Volmeranges  and  Cubieres-Palmezeaux,  an  XII.,  dedi- 
cated  to  Fanny  de    Beauharnais  (aunt  to  Josephine)  : — 

"  Fanny,  qu'il  est  doux  pour  nos  cceurs 
D'avoir  excite  vos  allarmes 
Et  d'avoir  vu  couler  vos  larmes." 

Boissy  had  made  a  caricature  of  Pamela  :  "  Pamela  en  France  ou  la 
Vertu  mieux  eprouvee,"  1743  (the  marquis  disguises  himself  as  a 
woman  to  approach  Pamela).  "  Clarissc  Harlowe,"  1786,  by  Nee 
de  la  Rochelle,  a  great  partisan  of  the  "drame"  and  of  moralising 
plays.  "Tom  Jones,  comedie  lyrique,"  1766,  by  Poinsinet,  music 
by  Philidor  ;  "Tom  Jones  a  Londres,"  1782,  in  verse,  by  Des- 
forges  (great  success  at  the  Theatre  des  ltaliens  ;  sec  La  Harpc, 
"  Corrcspondance  Litteraire,"  1801,  iv.,  140);  "Tom  Jones  ct 
Fellamar,"  1787,  &c. 

'  Sedaine,  in  his  preface,  openly  accuses  Voltaire  of  having 
caused  the  interdiction  of  his  play  because  it  was  in  prose  ;  it  was 
published  in  1788  with  a  dedication  to  the  Empress  of  Russia. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  II         319 

and  which  ended  by  being  called  "  drames,"  in  spite 
of  Cubieres  and  Desfontaines,  who  proposed  to 
name  them  "  romanedies."  r  Diderot,  Saurin,  Beau- 
marchais,  Mercier,  all  tried  their  hand  at  this  style, 
which  Diderot,  on  his  side,  baptised  "  the  serious 
genre,"  and  the  theory  of  which  he  established  in 
terms  that  already  make  one  think  of  the  romantics 
of  1830:  "I  shall  call  this  genre  the  serious  genre. 
This  genre  once  established,  no  conditions  in  society, 
no  important  actions  in  life  need  be  excluded  from 
the  drama.  Do  you  wish  to  give  this  system  all 
the  scope  it  is  capable  of;  to  include  in  it  truth  and 
fancy,  the  imaginary  world  and  the  real  world  ?  You 
may,  and  for  that  you  have  only  to  add  the  burlesque 
below  the  comic  style,  and  the  marvellous  above  the 
tragic  one."  No  more  principles  ;  no  more  rules  ; 
they  are  not  wanted  any  more  than  straight-line  alleys 
in  gardens  :  "  And  above  all  remember  that  there  is  no 
general  principle  ;  I  know  of  none  among  those  I  have 
just  mentioned,  which  a  man  of  genius  may  not  infringe 
with  success." 2  Saurin  gave  a  "  domestic  tragedy 
imitated  from  the  English,"  had  the  happiness  of 
seeing  "  Son  Altesse  Serenissime  le  Due  d'Orleans, 
premier  prince  du  sang  "  shed  tears,  and  thought  that 

1  "  On  est  presque  convenu  de  nos  jours  d'appeler  Drames  les 
pieces  qui  tiennent  le  milieu  entre  la  tragedie  et  la  comedie  .  .  . 
II  vaudrait  mieux,  je  crois,  qu'on  adoptat  celui  de  Romanedie 
qu'avait  invente  l'abbe  Desfontaines." — Cubieres,  "  La  Manie  des 
Drames  sombres,"  1777,  Preface. 

2  "  Entretiens  sur  le  '  Fils  naturel  (the  play  is  of  1757  ;  the 
"  Pere  de  famille,"  written  in  the  same  spirit,  is  of  1758).  "C'est 
done  une  des  supremes  beautes  du  drame  que  le  grotesque,"  savs 
Victor  Hugo  (preface  to  "  Cromwell  "). 


320  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

he  too,  like  Diderot,  and  after  Sedaine,  had  enlarged 
the  boundaries  of  art  :  "  The  domestic  tragedy  is  a 
new  field  .  .  .  the  boundaries  of  art  have  been  laid  too 
hastily.  Is  [Sedaine's]  '  Philosophe  sans  le  savoir,'  a 
tragedy,  or  is  it  a  comedy  ?  "  And  Saurin  inserted  in 
his  play  an  imitation  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy  delivered  by 
a  bourgeois  about  to  commit  suicide  :  "To  sleep  .  .  . 
What  if  the  tomb,  instead  of  a  place  of  rest,  should  be 
an  eternal  and  awful  awakening  ?  " 

"  M'endormir  !    ...    Si  la  tombe,  au  lieu  d'etre  un  sommeil, 
Etait  un  cternel  et  funeste  reveil ! 
Et  si  d'un  Dicu  vengeur  ...  II  faut  que  je  le  prie  : 

Dieu  dont  la  clemence  infinic   .   .   . 
Je  ne  saurais  prier  .   .   . 

(He  takes  the  glass  and  drinks.) 
Oh  !    si   l'homme  au  tombeau  s'enfermait  tout  entier  !   .   .   ."I 

The  same  personage,  seeing  his  son  "  Tomi,"  who  is 
going  to  remain  in  the  world  poor  and  despised,  pities  his 
rate,  and  to  save  him  from  such  misfortunes  determines  to 
stab  him.  "  Barbarism  !  "  cries  Colle,  "  Ostrogothism  !  " 
The    play    had    none    the    less    an    immense    success  : 

1  "  Beverley,  tragedie  bourgeoise,  en  cinq  actes  et  en  vers  librcs," 
1768.  Mole  was  admirable  in  it  :  "  Le  role  est  d'une  violence  qui 
fait  craindrc  a  chaque  representation  qu'il  ne  se  casse  un  vaisseau," 
wrote  Colle.  It  was  an  adaptation  of  the  "Gamester"  by__Edward 
Moore,  London,  1753,  8°,  in  prose.  The  role  of  Beverley  had 
been  created  by  Garrick.  The  lines  quoted  above  correspond  to 
this  passage  of  Moore's  text  :  "  How  the  self  murderer's  account 
may  stand,  I  know  not.  But  this  I  know. — The  load  of  hateful  life 
oppresses  me  too  much.  .  .  .  The  horrors  of  my  soul  are  more  than 
I  can  bear — (offers  to  kneel) — Father  of  Mercy — I  cannot  pray." 
Cf.  the  "  Barneveldt  "  ("_BamjY£ll  ")  of  La  Harpe,  another  domestic 
tragedy  ;  adapted  from  LiJ]£j»-ii-London . Merchant  "  (already  trans- 
lated before  ;    see  supra,  p.  237). 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  321 

"You  doubtless  know  of  the  success  of  the  'Joueur ' 
('  Beverley  '),"  writes  Preville  ;  "  it  is  astounding,  and 
I  am  astounded  ;  but  one  must  be  prepared  for  any- 
thing, our  taste  is  changing."  l 

The  play  was  as  successful  with  the  reading  as  with 
theplavgoing  public.  Bonaparte,  at  twenty-two,  had  read 
the  play  and  wrote  :  "  Ore  must  appeal  to  sentiment 
in  its  own  language.  You  will  sometimes  show  young 
men  Beverley  ;  let  them  draw  frcm  the  sight  a  horror 
for  the  pleasures  we  forbid  them.  Many  other  plays 
of  that  kind  might  also  be  beneficial,  were  there  not 
too  much  love  in  them.  Nature  inspires  it  sufficiently 
without  your  blowing  upon  these  live  coals."  2 

Beaumarchais,  on  his  side,  prefaced  his  "  Eugenie  " 
with  an  "  Essay  on  serious  drama,"  and  exclaimed  in  the 
same  words  as  Perrault :  "  The  new  world  would  still  re 
non-existent  for  us  if  the  bold  Genoese  navigator  had 
not  trampled  under  foot  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  Alcides' 
columns  as  mendacious  as  proud."  3  He  little  sus- 
pected that  he  would  be  doing  very  nearly  what  he 
thus  announced,  the  day  when   he  should  write,  for  his 


1  To  Garrick,  July  1,  1768. 

2  "  Discours  de  Lvon,"  1791,  in  Masson,  "Napoleon  inconnu,'' 
vol.  ii.,  p.  311.  Thoughts  of  suicide  had  been  entertained  a  few 
years  befcre  bv  Bonaparte  himself,  then  second  lieutenant  in  the 
La  Fere  regiment.  "Toujours  seul  au  milieu  des  hommes,  je 
rentre  pour  rever  avec  moi-meme  et  me  livrer  a  toute  la  vivacite 
de  ma  melancolie.  De  quel  cote  est-elle  tournee  aujourd'hui  ? 
Du  cote  de  la  mort.  .  .  .  Puisque  je  dois  mourir,  ne  vaut-il  pas 
autant  se  tuer  ?  ...  La  vie  m'est  a  charge  parce  que  je  ne  goute 
aucun  plaisir  et  que  tout  est  peine  pour  moi." — Fragment  written 
in  1786.      Ibid.,  vol.  i.,  p.  145. 

3  Preface  to  "Eugenie,"  1767. 


322  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

amusement,  dramas  less  "serious  " — his  "  Barbier,"  or 
his  "  Figaro." 

Meanwhile  people  were  melting,  their  hearts  over- 
flowed. Going  beyond  the  "serious,"  Baculard 
d'Arnaud,  secretary  of  embassy,  novelist  of  the 
"sensible"  school,  and  dramatist  of _jjie  funereal 
genre, "was  establishing  the  theory  of  the  "sombre"  : 
'*~I  am  speaMiTg"  of  the  sombre,  the  spring  one 
ought  to  touch  most  often  in  tragedy."  Crebillon 
knew  nothing  about  it  ;  he  was  almost  rose-coloured 
in  comparison  with  the  new  ideal  ;  the  old  French 
tragic  writers  were  but  babblers ;  we  must  know 
better  how  to  use  the  resources  that  art  and  nature 
place  at  our  disposal,  and  those  resources  ^include 
graveyards, -vampi res,  and  ghosts.  The  model,  from 
this  point  of  view,  is  Shakespeare  :  for  the  sombre 
side  of  his  genius  was  the  one  by  which  most  minds  in 
France  were  then  struck.  Summing  up,  much  later, 
impressions  which  went  back  to  the  days  of  his  youth, 
Delille  sang  the  praise  of  him  "whose  black  pencil 
painted  the  awful  picture  of  grand  calamities,  who 
darkening  the  stage  with  sombre  hues,  clothed  Mel- 
pomene in  a  blood-stained  raiment,  and  by  the  pale 
light  of  sepulchral  lamps,  to  the  low  groans  of  subter- 
rannean  shades,  amid  ruins,  ghosts,  and  tombs,  dis- 
playing the  tattered  purple  of  the  royal  mantle, 
surrounded  his  muse  with  spectres  and  assassins.  All 
nature  was  for  him  only  an  ample  tomb  inhabited  by 
Terror,   Anguish,   and  Gloom."  '      Such  was  the  Strat- 

1    "  fc  ne  t'oublirai  pas,  toi  dont  le  noir  pinccau 
Traca  dcs  grands  malhcurs  lc  terrible  tableau, 
Qui,  de  sombrcs  coulcurs  rembrunissant  la  scene, 


MOUERE'S   "AVARE." 

Illustrated  by  Hogarth  ;  Van  dcr  Gucht  sc. 


>  323- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II 


3^5 


ford  bard  in  the  eyes  of  that  great  admirer  of  Pope, 
the  Abbe  Delille. 

Baculard,  for  his  part,  quotes  as  an  example  of  the 
perfectsonihre.,  "  a  terrible  scene  of  Shakespeare's,  that 
faithfuTimitator  in  many  respects  of  T^schylus,"  the 
one  in  which  the  ghosts  appear  to  Richard  III. 
He  gives  the  English  text  and  a  translation  in  verse  ; 
the  model  is  even  ultra-perfect  and  the  translator 
abridges  a  little  :  "  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  imputed 
to  me  as  a  great  crime  not  to  have  made  use  of  all  the 
ghosts  that  this  great  poet  causes  to  appear."  Baculard, 
too,  flatters  himself,  like  all  the  authors  of  that  time, 
that  he  has  passed  the  columns  of  Hercules  :  "  I  have 
perhaps  pointed  out  to  the  stage  a  new  road."  r  It  was 
not,  at  all  events,  the  one  recommended  by  Boileau, 
who  had  written  for  the  benefit  of  all  Baculards  past 
and  future  : — 

"II  est  certains  esprits  dont  les  sombres  pensees 
Sont  d'un  nuage  epais  toujours  embarrassees  ; 
Le  jour  de  la  raison  ne  les  saurait  percer  !    .   .    .  " 

The  sombre  had  none  the  less  many  adherents  among 
men  of  letters,  and  long  before  Victor  Hugo  and  his 

D'une  robe  sanglante  habillas  Melpomene   .   .   . 
A  la  pale  lueur  des  lampes  sepulcrales, 
Aux  gemissements  sounds  des  ombres  infernales, 
A  travers  des  debris,  des  ombres,  des  tombeaux, 
De  la  pourpre  des  rois  promenant  les  lambeaux, 
De  spectres,  d'assassins,  ta  muse  s'environne  : 
La  nature  pour  toi  n'est  qu'un  vaste  cercueil 
Que  parcourent  l'effroi,  la  douleur  et  le  deuil." 

"  L'Jmagi nation,"  Canto  V.      This  passage  is  a  late  addition. 

1  "  Le  Comte  de  Commingc  ou  les  Amants  malheureux,"  Pans. 

1768,  3rd  ed.,  with  three  preliminary  discourses. 


326  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

peers  placed  the  action  of  their  dramas  in  the  tomb  of 
Charlemagne  and  other  darksome  places,  such  scenery 
as  this  was  offered  to  the  eyes  of  the  habitues  of  the 
French  Comedy  :  "  The  theatre  is  draped  in  black, 
and  is  very  faintly  lit.  A  lamp  hangs  in  the  middle. 
On  one  side  is  a  sort  of  funereal  couch,  with  the 
body  of  Lothario  on  it.  On  the  other,  a  table,  on 
which  stands  a  poisoned  cup."  A  truly  Shakespearean 
sight  Colardeau,  the  author  of  the  play,  must  have 
thought,1  and  the  Delilles  and  Baculards  of  the  time 
cannot  have  failed  to  be  of  the  same  opinion. 

The  roads  had  become  contiguous  ;  never  had  the 
French  stage  had  so  many  partisans  in  London,  never 
had  Shakespeare  been  so  praised  in  Paris  ;  but  the  funda- 
mental differences  of  temperament  could  not,  for  all 
that,  have  really  disappeared  ;  contact  is  not  metem- 
psychosis. The  contact  of  Moliere  cannot  change  the 
temperament  of  a  Hogarth,  and  when  Hogarth  illus- 
trates Moliere,  he  insists  in  such  a  way  on  the  sins, 
faults,  and  oddities  of  the  personages,  as  to  leave  (like 

1  But  here  again  the  public  was  slow  in  accepting  the  new 
methods,  and  the  play  had  but  little  success.  Many  among  the 
spectators  were  "  revokes "  at  the  sight  it  offered — "  Caliste,  tragedie, 
representee  pour  la  premiere  fois  par  les  comediens  francais,  le  12 
Novembre,  1760,"  by  Colardeau,  Paris,  1771  ;  Act  V.  In  the  midst 
of  such  scenery  enters  Caliste,  who  says  : — 

"  Ces  terribles  objets  dont  mes  sens  sont  frappes, 
Des  voiles  de  la  mort  ces  murs  enveloppes, 
Ce  lugubre  flambeau  dont  le  jour  pale  et  sombre 
Luit  a  peine  et  s'cteint  dans  l'epaisseur  dc  l'ombre,"  &c. 

The  play  was  written  in  imitation  of  Rowc's  "Fair  Penitent." 
Colardeau,  of  the  French  Academy,  d.   1776. 


THK    PLAYEKS     SCENE    IN    "HAMLET. 

Engraved  by  Gravelot. 


it-  32: 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  3*9 

Wycherley  in  his  plays)  the  impression  ot  men  to  be 
shunned  rather  than  to  be  laughed  at.  Let  us  come 
and  laugh,  say  Moliere's  habitues.  Let  us  shun  all  such 
people,  shall  we  say,  looking  at  Hogarth's  engravings.1 
Neither  can  the  contact  of  Shakespeare  transform 
a  Gravelot,  and  when  Gravelot  illustrates  Shakespeare, 
Hamlet  becomes  a  slight,  sentimental  young  prince, 
with  curly  hair,  while  Othello  recalls  those  wooden 
negroes,  all  enamel  and  glitter,  who  hold  plateaus  under 
the  Procurable  at  Venice.2  Women  might  wear  "  the 
head-dress  called  '  Union  of  France  and  England,'  ' 
without  preventing  differences  of  views,  interests,  and 
characters  ;  or  wars  for  a  few  acres  ofJ'j5now  between 
bears  and  beavers,"  as  Voltaire  wrote  to  Madame  du 
Deffand  (little  dreaming  that  one  day,  beneath  those 
Canadian  snows,  would  be  discovered  the  veritable 
Eldorado  of  Candide)  ;  for  "some  horrid  cod-fish,"' 
quoth  Madame  Riccoboni.3  And  the  latter,  who 
was  constantly  studying  English  literature,  without 
losing  her  French  temper  and  way  of  thinking,  could 
not  forbear  protesting  against  this  new  taste,  sprung  from 
northern  climes,  for  the  sombre  and  the  lachrymose  : 
"  In  our  brilliant  capital,"   she  wrote,   "  where  airs  and 

1  "  Select  Comedies  of  Mr.  de  Moliere,  French  and  English." 
London,  1732,  8  vols.,  I  20,  engravings  bv  Hogarth  and  others. 

2  "  The  Works  of  Shakespeare,''  ed.  Theobald,  London,  175", 
8  vols.,  engravings  by  Van  der  Gucht  from  designs  by  Gravelot  ; 
'"Works,"  Oxford,  1744,  6  vols.  40,  engravings  by  Gravelot  from 
sketches  by  Hayman. 

3  Born  Marie-Jeanne  Laboras  de  Mezieres,  wife  of  Antoine- 
Francois  Riccoboni,  son  of  Louis  Riccoboni,  all  actors  and  authors, 
like  Marie-Jeanne  herself.  She  died  in  1792.  "CEuvres  completes," 
new  ed.,  Paris,  I  8  16,  6  vols. 


330  SHAKESPEARE  IX  ERAXCE 

fashions  reign,  to  wax  tender,  to  be  moved,  to  be 
sorrowful,  is  the  '  bon  ton  '  of  the  moment.  Goodness, 
sensibility,  tender  humanity,  have  become  the  universal 
craze.  One  would  willingly  make  men  unhappy  to 
enjoy  the  pleasure  of  pitying  them.  People  believe 
themselves  good  when  they  are  sombre,  excellent  when 
they  are  sad.  ...  At  present,  Moliere's  plays  are  called 
farces,  they  are  given  on  off-days,  and  actors  who  think 
well  of  their  own  talent,  disdain  all  his  roles,  except 
that  of  the  Misanthrope.  To  laugh  at  a  comedy  is  an 
absurdity  with  us,  sheer  foolishness,  a  ridicule  worthy 
of  mere  bourgeois.  Tears  are  shed  at  the  comic- 
opera."  She  adds  :  "  Young's  '  Night  Thoughts  '  have 
made  a  fortune  here  ;  there  is  no  better  proof  of  the 
change  in  the  French  mind."  ' 

The  "  sombre  "  which  was  gaining  ground,  had 
not  yet,  however,  invaded  everything  ;  English 
liberties  had  their  partisans,  but  also  their  detrac- 
tors, more  and  more  impassioned  and  attached  to 
their  system,  on  both  sides,  as  years  went  by  and  as 
the  dispute  waxed  hotter.  War  was  inevitable  ;  it 
began  by  being  sham  war,  la  guerre  pour  rire.  Abbe 
Le  Blanc  had,  early  in  the  day,  opened  fire  with  an 
amusing  satire,   carrying  war  into    the  enemy's  camp. 

He  had  been  shocked,  like  many  others,  at  the 
freedom  with  which  London  dramatists  borrowed  from 
the  great  men  of  France,  without  paying  any  tribute  to 
their  genius,  and  sometimes  (especially  in  former  days) 
even  denying  they  had  any  genius.  For  if  Shakespeare 
was  destined  to  appear  upon  the  French  stage  (as  he 

1  May  3rd,  September  12,  1769,  "Correspondence  of  D. 
Garrick,:'    vol.    ii.,    pp.    561,    566. 


"TENDER    HUMANITY.        A   PAUPER  CARRYING   HUME    SOUP   FROM 
COUNT    D'ALBON'S    PLACE    AT    FRANCONVILLE. 

".4  study  from  life."    Second  half  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

"/■  351- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  333 

sometimes  appeared  on  the  English  boards)  strangely 
transformed,  Racine,  Corneille,  and  Moliere  underwent 
in  London  no  less  curious  remodellings.  Tastes  were 
undoubtedly  becoming  more  alike  in  the  two  countries, 
but  especially  the  tastes  of  critics,  theorists,  and 
dilettanti.  In  the  upper  regions  of  thought,  great  were 
the  similitudes  ;  in  the  nether  regions  of  practical  life, 
of  real  boards  and  actual  representations,  the  two 
nations  no  longer  seemed  to  be  so  very  near  each 
other.  Playwrights  had  necessarily  to  take  into 
account,  to  a  greater  extent  than  critics,  the  whims 
and  dispositions  of  the  theatre-going  public  ;  and  that 
public,  although  willing,  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel, 
to  admit  some  few  reforms,  continued  to  preserve  a 
warm  feeling  for  opposite  aesthetics  and  time-honoured 
systems.  Critics  have  a  comparatively  easy  task  ;  they 
read,  they  learn,  they  open  up  a  vista,  they  draw  a 
veil  ;  new  things  excite  their  interest ;  new  theories 
invented,  or  old  forgotten  ones  circulated  anew  by 
them,  increase  their  reputation  ;  they  easily  secure 
thereby  a  public  of  readers.  The  playhouse  public 
follows  them  only  at  a  distance,  and  the  distance 
must  be  accurately  gauged  bv  dramatists,  egregious 
failure  being  the  penalty  for  any  miscalculation.  An 
English  critic  of  the  Chesterfield  stamp  could  very  well 
praise  French  regularitv  ;  a  French  critic  of  the 
Diderot  sort  could  as  warmly  praise  "  the  irregular, 
rugged,  and  wild  air  of  the  English  genius."  But  this 
transposition  of  views  did  not  take  place  to  the  same 
extent  with  spectators.  In  France  they  remained  long 
indignant  at  the  undue  liberties  taken  by  the  reformers, 
and    in    London    Garrick    needed     all    his    authoritv, 


334  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

and  ran  at  times  serious  risks  when  he  imposed  upon 
his  audience  his  remodelled  and  thoroughly  toned-down 
versions  of  Shakespeare.  The  real  feeling  of  the  English 
public  had  been  pointed  out,  years  before,  by  Mrs. 
Centlivre  with  meritorious  frankness  and  in  terms 
similar  to  Lope  de  Vega's  :  "  The  criticks  cavil  most 
about  decorums,  and  cry  up  Aristotle's  rules  as  the 
most  essential  part  of  the  play.  I  own  they  are  in  the 
right  of  it  ;  yet  I  dare  venture  a  wager  they'll  never 
persuade  the  town  to  be  of  their  opinion.  ...  I  do  not 
say  this  by  way  of  condemning  the  unity  of  time,  plaee, 
and  action  ;  quite  contrary,  for  I  think  them  the 
greatest  beauties  of  a  dramatick  poem  ;  but  since  the 
other  way  of  writing  pleases  full  as  well  and  gives  the 
poet  a  larger  scope  of  fancy  with  less  trouble,  care,  and 
pains,  serves  his  and  the  player's  end,  why  should  a 
man  torture  and  rack  his  brain  for  what  will  be  of  no 
advantage  to  him."  r 

For  such  reasons  (like  Mrs.  Centlivre),  Otway, 
Dryden,  Wycherley,  Fielding,  Cibber,  Shadwell,  White- 
head, vieing  with  each  other,  had  turned  to  the  French 
drama  now  famous  all  over  Europe,  but  without  for- 
getting the  differences  of  taste  in  the  audiences  of  Paris 
and  of  London.  They  had  taken  two  comedies  to 
make  one,  two  characters  to  make  one,  certain  of 
interesting  with  a  combination  of  contrasts  and  a 
parallelism  of  intrigues,  fusing  into  one  woman  two 
such  opposites  as  Moliere's  Arsino^  and  Celimene,2 
allowing  old  Horatius,  to  use  the  blunt  language  of  old 

1  Preface  to  "Love's  Contrivance,  or  the  Mcdecin  malgre  lui," 
"Works,"  London,  1761,  3  vols.,  vol.  ii. 

2  In  Wvcherlev's   "Plain  Dealer,"    1676. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II 


jj^ 


Capulet,  and  laying  down  their  pen  with  triumph, 
exclaiming,  "  I  think  I  may  say  without  vanity  that 
Moliere's  part  of  it  has  not  suffered  in  my  hands  ;  nor 
did  I  ever  know  a  French  comedy  made  use  of  by  the 
worst  of  our  poets,  that  was  not  better'd  by  'em."  So 
speaks  Shadwell  in  his  preface  to  "  The  Miser  "  ;  he 
takes  also  various  scenes  from  Corneille  and  Moliere's 
"  Psyche,"  '*  which,"  he  says,  "  without  vanity,  are 
very  much  improv'd."  Mrs.  Centlivre  resorts  to  the 
same  fount,  and  acknowledges  her  debt  in  these  words  : 
"  Some  scenes  I  confess  are  partly  taken  from  Moliere, 
and  I  dare  be  bold  to  say  it  has  not  suffered  in  the 
translation."  l 

A  whole  theatre  cannot,  in  truth,  be  filled  with 
Chesterfields  ;  there  the  multitude  lays  down  the  law. 
The  simple  language  of  Corneille  could  not,  in  spite 
of  the  new  literary  tendencies,  suffice  for  a  London 
audience  ;  still  less  that  of  Racine.  Whitehead's  old 
Horatius,  at  the  news  of  his  son's  flight,  cannot  stand ; 
he  chokes,  he  rolls  in  his  chair  ;  he  can  scarcely 
speak  ;  he  repeats  three  or  four  times  the  same  insult, 
and  is  led  away  wanting  air  ;  a  very  false  idea  is  con- 
veyed of  Corneille's  hero  :  — 

"  Horatius.  By  flight  !      And  did  the  soldiers  let  him  pass  ? 

Oh  !   I  am  ill  again  ! — The  coward  villain  i   .   .   . 
{Throwing  himself  into  his  chair.) 
Valeria.    What  could  he  do,  my  lord,  when  three  oppos'd  him  ? 
Horatius.  Die  ! 

He  might  have  died.  —  Oh  !   villain,  villain,  villain  ! 
And  he  shall  die,  this  arm  shall  sacrifice 


1  "  Love's  Contrivance,  or  the  Medecin  malgre  lui." 


336  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

The  life  he  dar'd  to  preserve  with  infamy. 

{Endeavouring  to  rise.) 
What  means  this  weakness  ?  'tis  untimely  now  .    .   . 

...    So  young  a  hypocrite  ! 
Oh  !   shame,  shame,  shame  ! 

.   .   .   Pray  lead  me  forth, 
I  would  have  air."  ' 

Needless  to  say  that  "  Oh  !  I  am  ill  again,"  and  the 
want  of  air,  as  well  as  the  vituperative  exclamations  of 
the  old  man,  his  feeling  faint  in  his  chair  (and  his 
witticisms  when  he  is  happy  again),2  are  embellishments 
introduced  by  Whitehead  into  Corneille's  masterpiece. 3 
The  play  thus  adapted,  obtained,  according  to  contem- 
porary testimony,  "the  just  approbation  of  repeated 
and  judicious  audiences"  ;4  it  passed  through  numerous 
editions  and  is  still  reprinted. 

1  "The  Roman  Father,"  London,  1750,  8°,  Act  III. 

2  After  the  death  of  Camille  : — 

"  My  son,  my  conqueror  !   'twas  a  fatal  stroke, 
But  shall  not  wound  our  peace." 

3  "  Le  vieil  Horace.   Et  nos  soldats  trahis  ne  font  point  acheve? 

Dans    leurs    rangs,    a    ce    lache,    ils    ont   donne 
retraite  ? 
Julie.  Je  n'ai  rien  voulu  voir  apres  cette  defaite. 

Camille.  O  mes  freres  ! 

Le  vieil  Horace.  Tout  beau,  ne  les  pleurez  pas  tous, 

Deux    jouissent    d'un    sort   dont    leur    pirc   est 

jaloux. 
One    des    phis    nobles    fleurs    leur    tombe    soil 

couverte  ; 
La  gloire  de  leur  mort  m'a  pave  de  leur  pcrte  : 
Ce  bonheur  a  suivi  leur  courage  invaincu 
Ou'ils    ont    vu    Rome    libre    autant    qu'ils    ont 
vecu  "...    ("  Horace,"   iii.  6). 
4  "Companion  to  the  Playhouse,"  1764. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  11         337 

Corneille's  old  Horatius  using  the  strong  language 
of  old  Capulet,  Racine's  Titus  adopting  the  ranting 
style  of  Almanzor,  and  al!  other  transformations  of 
the  same  kind,  could  not  but  seem  sacrilegious.  Abbe 
Le  Blanc  was  one  of  the  first  to  satirise  these  strange 
combinations  of  contradictory  aesthetics.  He  wrote, 
for  the  use  of  the  English  authors  of  his  day,  a  sort 
of  manual  to  help  them  in  composing  their  plays  from 
a  proper  mixture  of  Racine  and  Shakespeare  :  "  Le 
Supplement  du  Genie,  ou  Tart  de  composer  des 
poemes  dramatiques,  tel  que  1'ont  pratique  plusieurs 
auteurs  celebres  du  Theatre  Anglois."  '  The  Abbe 
took  Swift  for  his  model  :  in  the  selfsame  tone  of 
humorous  gravity  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick  had  com- 
posed his  ironical  "  Directions  to  Servants  "  and  his 
"Complete  Collection  of  genteel  and  ingenious  Con- 
versation." Le  Blanc  was  careful  not  to  acknowledge 
the  authorship  of  the  work  :  "  It  fell  into  my  hands 
by  chance,"  he  said  ;  "  a  copy  of  it  was  taken,  not 
without  difficulty,  the  author  is  considered  here  (in 
London)  an  authority  in  theatrical  matters  ;  discretion 
forbids  me  to  name  him."  English  criticism  itself  was 
led  astray  and  attributed  at  first  the  work  to  Swift. 

Young  authors,  said  the  Abbe,  tor  the  choice  of  a 
subject,  "  take  simply  any  tragedy  you  like  of  Corneille's 
or  of  Racine's  ;  change  its  title  and  the  names  of  the 
personages  ;    call   Bajazet,  the  Sultana  ;   Iphigenie,    the 

1  "Lettres  de  M.  l'abbe  Le  Blanc  .  .  .  Nouvelle  edition  de 
celles  qui  ont  paru  sous  le  titre  de  Lettres  d'un  Francois," 
Amsterdam,  1 7  5 1,  3  vols.,  vol.  iii.,  pp.  145,  ff.  In  this  new  edition 
Le  Blanc  declares  himself  the  author  of  the  "  Supplement."  The 
"Lettres  d'un  Francois"  had  appeared  at  the  Hague,  174;,  3  vols. 


338  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Victim  "  1  (as  La  Fosse  had  done  for  his  "  Manlius," 
taken  from  "Venice  Preserved":  for  there  was  reci- 
procity, and  both  countries  had  their  pirates),  but  be 
careful  to  alter  the  style  :  "  You  can  let  the  first  act 
subsist  just  as  it  is  in  your  original,  without  adding  to 
it  anything  of  your  invention  ;  but  as  the  French  are 
content  to  be  natural  in  their  stories,  and  as  they  are 
too  simple  for  us,  you  must  not  fail  to  swell  your  voice 
and  use  as  turgid  a  style  as  you  can.  You  will  go  to 
Shakespeare  and  take  from  him  as  many  strong  and 
bold  epithets  as  you  need,  that  is,  on  an  average,  two 
in  each  line.  French  verses  are  bad  models,  they  are 
cold  enough  to  freeze  us  ;  ours,  on  the  contrary,  are 
like  thunder,  they  have  its  fire,  its  roar  and  glare." 

The  number  of  characters  should  be  increased  in 
order  to  secure  greater  intricacy  of  plot  ;  mingle  tears 
with  laughter,  verse  with  prose,  people  of  the  street 
with  people  of  the  court  :  "  You  will  introduce  in  your 
play  two  or  three  personages  of  your  invention  to 
double  the  intrigue  and  thicken  the  coils  of  the  chief 
action,  always  too  simple  with  French  authors.  .  .  . 
These  personages  will  arouse  all  the  more  curiosity 
inasmuch  as  no  one  will  know  where  they  come  from 
or  what  they  are  driving  at."  One  of  them  must  be  a 
comic  character,  that  is  the  way  to  break  the  monotony 
of  a  play  ;  thus  you  can  walk  happily,  "with  a  buskin 
on  one  foot  and  a  sock  on  the  other.  .  .  .  Shakespeare 
ever  did  so." 

In  the  second  act,  some  striking  sight  should  be 
offered  :    "  It  would  not  be  bad   to   finish  that  act  by  a 

1   An  allusion  to  Charles  Johnson's  tragedies  adapted  from  Racine. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTVRY.     PART  II  55; 

night  scene  ;  then  it  is  that  wonders  in  the  heavens  are 
most  effective  and  that  ghosts  inspire  most  terror.  .  .  . 
If  you  treat  a  subject  as  terrible  as  the  avenging  of 
Laius's  murder,  do  not  withhold  from  sight,  as  the 
French  do,  what  is  most  pathetic  in  this  play  ;  but 
expose  to  view  the  touching  picture  of  the  plague. 
Verses  can  give  but  a  feeble  idea  of  it.  You  will  trv 
to  render  all  its  horror  by  strewing  the  stage  with  dead 
bodies,  and  showing  almost  inanimate  figures  scarcelv 
able  to  walk,  who  augment  at  every  moment  the  number 
of  the  corpses.  .  .  .  Here  is  one  of  those  grand  scenes 
which  exist  in  nature  and  which  the  French  would  not 
have  wit  enough  to  imagine.  .  .  ." 

"  The  fourth  act,  according  to  all  probability,  for 
want  of  action  will  lack  warmth  in  vour  original.  To 
give  it  some,  trv  to  introduce  one  or  two  battles  in  it  ; 
model  them  on  Shakespeare's  memorable  battle  of 
Agincourt,  the  pattern  of  all  battles  on  the  English 
theatre.  .  .  .  Then  darken  vour  stage,  represent  wonders 
in  the  air,  a  skv  of  blood,  two  suns,  aerial  spirits 
fighting  together.  .  .  .  Now  make  a  spectre  in  a 
bloody  shirt  emerge  from  the  ground  ;  the  dead  of 
the  last  battles  will  furnish  you  with  half  a  dozen 
subaltern  shades  to  serve  as  a  cortege  to  it.  For  the 
politeness  with  which  spectres  wish  to  be  treated,  when 
it  is  necessary  to  make  them  explain  the  reasons  for 
their  apparition,  consult  Shakespeare  ;  no  man  has 
known  better  how  to  talk  to  ghosts  ;  " — an  obvious 
allusion  to  the  reverential  address  of  Prince  Hamlet  to 
the  Royal  Dane,  his  father  :  "  Ha,  ha,  boy  !  say'st 
thou  so  ?  art  thou  there,  truepenny  ?  .  .  .  Well  said, 
old  mole." 


340  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

If  the  heroine  has  lost  her  hero,  you  will  draw  from 
this  mishap  the  most  charming  effects  :  "  It  is  natural 
that  the  excess  of  her  grief  should  derange  her  reason  ; 
in  that  case,  you  will  make  her  come  back  on  the  stage, 
crazy,  dressed  as  a  shepherdess,  or  in  undress,  just  as 
you  like.  Make  her  dance  and  sing  as  long  as  you 
think  fit.  We  owe  this  happy  invention  to  Shake- 
speare." Corneille  was  wrong  not  to  make  Camille  go 
mad  :  "  What  can  be  more  interesting  than  to  see  a 
young  and  beautiful  person  whom  grief  has  bereft  of 
reason,  and  who  can  neither  laugh  without  making  us 
weep,  nor  weep  without  making  us  laugh  ?  " 

Finally  one  must  think  of  the  catastrophe  ;  it  is 
there  especially  that  the  French  model  must  be  im- 
proved upon  :  "  You  will  speak  more  against  kings  for 
whom  the  French  entertain  too  much  respect  ;  add  a 
satire  against  the  ministers,  a  tirade  on  the  laws,  two 
words  upon  religion  and  a  long  eulogy  on  the  English 
Government.  When  your  personages  shall  have 
nothing  more  to  say,  make  them  all  kill  each  other  ; 
but  in  order  to  observe  theatrical  decency,  which  wills 
that  virtue  should  be  treated  differently  from  crime, 
make  the  most  guilty  perish  first." 

Throughout  his  discourse  Le  Blanc  shows  a  dramatic 
erudition  astonishing  for  the  period  ;  he  knows  every 
author,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least,  from  Shakespeare 
to  Gibber  ;  he  has  read  their  prologues,  epilogues,  and 
prefaces  ;  many  of  his  ironical  directions  are  translated, 
word  for  word,  from  prefaces  by  Dryden,  who  had 
given  the  same  advice  in  earnest.  From  tragedy  the 
Abbe  passes  on  to  comedy  :  Molitre  is  flat,  it  is  neces- 
sary   tp   flavour   his   characters   and    exhibit   also   some 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II 


3V 


striking  sights  :  for  instance,  "  an  abandoned  woman 
in  her  bed  and  a.  libertine  in  his  shirt,"  who  falls 
"through  a  trap-door  into  a  cesspool,  from  which  he 
emerges  a  moment  after,  all  covered  with  filth  ;  "  this 
is  how  an  author  behaves  who  knows  his  trade.  Such 
plays  are  sure  to  draw  large  audiences  ;  they  have  a 
great  moral  value,  as  they  teach  young  men  "to  beware 
of  bad  women."  ' 


MICHEL  I)F.   CTBIERES-PALMEZEAl'X. 

Bv  Dtiion,  1 7S5. 

War  of  this  same  sort,  that  is,  war  "  pour  rire  "  and 
not  war  to  the  death,  is  waged  again  on  Shakespeare  bv 

1  Le  Blanc  refers  his  readers  to  the  comedy  or"  "  The  Rover  "  (bv 
Mrs.  Behn  :  "The  Rover  or  the  banisht  Cavaliers,"  1677,  several 
editions  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  ;  scene  between 
Blunt,  "an  English  country  gentleman,"  who  reappears,  "his  face, 
&c,  all  dirty,"  and  Lucetta,  "a  jilting  wench,"  act  iii.  In  spite  of 
such  coarseness,  a  very  favourable  judgment  is  passed  on  this  comedv, 


342  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

the  Chevalier  de  Cubieres-Palmezeaux  later  on  in  the 
century.  He,  too,  wants  only  to  amuse,  and  writes 
in  a  tone  of  banter.  Time,  however,  has  played  some 
of  its  tricks  on  him,  and  several  of  the  theories  which 
he  puts,  ironically,  in  the  mouth  of  his  ridiculous 
Prousas,  have  since  enjoyed  the  widest  popularity. 

Cubieres  had  been  struck  by  the  increasing  gloom  of 
the  French  stage  :  people  went  to  the  theatre,  even  to 
Voltaire's  plays,  even  to  the  performance  of  comedies, 
to  weep.  Few  women  had,  like  Poinsi net's  Araminta, 
the  courage  to  stay  at  home  and  speak  out  what  they 
thought  :  "  No,  sir,  certainly  not  ;  you  will  not  see  me 
there  "  (at  Voltaire's  "  Merope  ").  "  Do  not  presume 
that  you  will  catch  me  at  your  lamentable  tragedies. 
Why,  fie  !  a  woman  only  comes  away  from  that  sight, 
her  eyes  swollen  with  tears  and  her  heart  with  sighs. 
I  have  found  sometimes  that  there  remained  on  my  face 
and  in  my  soul,  after  such  plays,  an  impression  of  sad- 
ness that  all  the  vivacity  of  the  nicest  supper  could  not 
dispel."  J 

For  the  "  bourgeois,"  "  tearful,"  or  "  serious  "  at- 
tempts of  Sedaine,  Diderot,  or  Beaumarchais,  Cubieres 
still  has  some  indulgence  :  "  I  have  seen  you,"  he 
writes  in  his  "  Lettre  a  une  fern  me  sensible,"  2  "  often 

full  of  an  "infinite  deal  of  sprightliness,"  by  the  "Companion  to 
the  Play  House,"  1764).  Several  plays  by  Mrs.  Behn,  Mrs.  Cent- 
livre,  and  other  English  authoresses,  were  translated  into  French  in 
the  eighteenth  century.  See  the  "  Parnasse  des  Dames,  contenant 
le  theatre  des  femmes  Franchises,  Anglaises,  Allemandcset  Danoiscs," 
Paris,   1777,  ff. 

1  "  Lc  Cerclc  on  la  Soiree  a  la  mode,"  performed  in   1764. 

2  "  La  Manic  des  Drames  sombres,  comddie  en  trois  actcs,  en 
vers,   representee    a    Fontaincblcau,   devant    Lcurs  Majestes,   par  les 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  343 

weep  at  the  performances  of  the  '  Pere  de  famille,'  of 
the  '  Philosophe  sans  le  savoir,'  of  '  Eugenie.'  ...  I 
have  myself  wept  by  your  side."  What  he  condemns 
are  "  those  sepulchral  farces  where,  to  employ  an  expres- 
sion of  M.  de  Voltaire's,  skulls  are  used  to  play  bowls 
with,  where  gravediggers  make  silly  jokes  on  ancestral 
skulls  ;  where  spectres,  and  ghosts  still  shrouded  in 
their  palls,  come  forth  to  address  pathetic  remarks  to 
the  bystanders,  where  the  most  abundant  use  is  made  of 
scaffolds,  coffins,  gallows,  poisoned  cups,  and  a  thou- 
sand other  puerile  means  of  terror."  It^  is  indeed 
against  Shakespeare  that  Cubieres  goes  forth  to  war. 
He  TTaoTTiis  pTay~performed  on  the  29th  of  October, 
1776,  "at  Fontainbleau,  before  their  Majesties,  by  the 
French  comedians,"  a  tardy  answer  to  those  English 
actors  who  had  played  in  the  same  hall  of  the  same 
palace  their  bloody  dramas  before  Henri  IV.  and  his 
son  :   "  Tiph  Toph  Milord  !  " 

At    Fontainebleau,   Cubieres   had  given   only  a    first 
abridged    sketch    of    his    comedy,    and     he    had    not 

comediens  Francois  sous  le  nom  du  Dramaturge,  le  29  Octobre, 
1776,"  Paris,  1777,  8°;  preceded  by  a  "  Lettre  a  une  femme 
sensible."  In  the  "Almanack  des  Spectacles  de  Paris"  the  play  is 
quoted  under  the  title  of  the  "Dramomane,"  1777.  The  "Annee 
Litteraire"  praised  it  most  highly  ;  it  spoke  of  "dramaturges"  and 
of  "dramomanie  "  with  the  same  contempt  as  the  classicists  did  in 
the  days  of  Hugo,  and  congratulated  Cubieres,  who  sought  to 
"  dissiper  ces  vapeurs  sombres  repandues  sur  le  caractere  national," 
1778,  p.  270.  The  "Annee  Litteraire"  was  continued  then  by 
Freron  the  son,  the  future  member  of  the  Convention.  Against  the 
"dramaturgic"  a  Vanglaise,  see  also  Saurin,  "  L'Anglomane,"  sc.  xii., 
and  Palissot,  "  Dunciade,"  1764,  i.  and  ii.  Shall  I  see  at  last,  savs 
"  la  Sottise," 

"  Phedre  et  Tartufe  et  Chimene 
Ensevelis  sous  mes  drames  anglais  !  " 


344  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

obtained  great  success.  One  of  his  friends,  who  was 
present  at  the  performance,  M.  Le  Roz,  a  clerk  at  the 
War  Office,  published  an  account  of  it  in  the  "  Journal 
Francois,  Italien  et  Anglais."  He  informs  us  that  the 
first  scenes  were  much  applauded  :  "  The  other  scenes 
were  not  heard  because  of  the  multitudinous  coughs 
and  sneezes  in  the  pit,  where,  as  it  seems,  colds 
abounded  on  that  day."  x  But  the  true  reason  was  that 
the  court,  who  held  for  La  Chaussee  and  the  larmoyants, 
had  not  very  well  understood  what  Cubieres  was  driving 
at,  or  whom  he  meant  to  ridicule.  Hence  the  care 
taken  by  the  chevalier,  when  he  published  his  play, 
remodelled  and  divided  into  three  acts  (instead  of 
one),  to  explain  clearly  to  the  "  femme  sensible  "  and 
to  the  public  his  real  intentions. 

Qabieres  jiraws  the  picture  of  a  ridiculous  dramatist 
called  Prousas,  who  has  the  mania  of  writing  lugubrious 
plays,  in  prose,  and  whose  views  on  aesthetics  are  so 
dear  to  his  heart  that  he  will  give  his  daughter  only  to 
a  son-in-law  who  shares  his  ideal.  Hence  a  struggle 
between  Sainfort,  a  true  gentleman  and  a  loyal  mind, 
who  admires  the  young  girl  and  Racine  ;  and  Som- 
breuses,  who  pretends  to  love  the  lady  and  tearful 
dramas,  but  who  is  a  vile  hypocrite  and,  at  heart,  cares 
only  for  money.  The  friends  of  the  drama  are  painted 
very  black  indeed  in  this  play. 

Prousas,  when  it  opens,  talks  with  Cornet,  his  secre- 
tary, whose  task  consists  in  going  through  the  news- 

1  August,  1777.  La  Harpe  gives  an  even  less  flattering  account 
in  his  "  Correspondance  litteraire  adressee  au  Grand  Due  dc  Russie," 
afterwards  Paul  I.  (Paris,  1801,  letter  56),  but  he  was  not  present 
at  the  performance,  and  he  hated  Cubieres, 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  345 

papers  in  order  to  find  dark  and  vulgar  crimes  which 
might  furnish  subjects  for  plays.  Has  he  made  any 
good  find  ? 

"  Cornet.     Alas  !    no  :   there  are  only  comical  stories  in  them. 

Prousas.  Such  paucity  confounds  me.  What  r  nothing  remark- 
able under  the  rubric  :   '  London  '  ?     And  yet  the  English.  .  .  . 

Cornet.  Alas  !  Those  poor  folks  have  degenerated  very  much 
of  late."  * 

They  only  occupy  themselves  with  politics  ;  they 
have  ceased  to  be  disgusted  with  life  and  to  hang 
themselves. 

"  Prousas.     And  the  rubric  :  '  Paris '  r 

Cornet.  What  can  you  be  thinking  of?  It  is  less  fertile  in 
accidents  than  any  other  ;  the  Frenchman  lives  in  the  midst  ot 
pleasures  and  amusements.  Do  you  expect  people  to  kill  themselves 
when  they  are  happy  ? 

Prousas.     What  !   not  even  a  little  suicide  ? 

Cornet.     Not  the  least. 

Prousas.  So  much  the  worse.  Some  fine  parricide  would  have 
been  most  welcome.     No  rape,  no  murder  ? 

Cornet.     Not  even  a  theft. 

Prousas.     Times  are  very  bad. 

Cornet.  Formerly,  for  their  mistresses  who  did  not  give  them 
tenderness    for    tenderness,    lovers    killed    themselves,   and    jealous 

1  "  Cornet.    Helas  non,  on  n'y  voit  que  des  contes  plaisants. 
Prousas.   Une  telle  disette  a  lieu  de  me  confondre. 

Quoi  !   rien  de  remarquable  a  l'article  de  Londres  ? 

Les  Anglais  cependant.  .   .  . 
Cornet.  Helas  !   les  pauvres  gens 

Ont  bien  degenere  depuis  un  certain  temps. 
Prousas.   Ou'est-ce  a  dire  ? 
Cornet.  Ah  !   monsieur,  l'altiere  Politique 

Remplace  tout  a  fait  leur  maniere  heroi'que. 

Tous,  des  crimes  bourgeois  viennent  de  se  lasser  ; 

Aucun  d'eux  ne  se  tue,  ils  aiment  mieux  penser," 


346  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

husbands,  skulking  around  their  homes  like  wolves,  more  than  once, 
giving  way  to  their  dark  frenzy,  cut  to  pieces  their  better  halves  ; 
but  all  is  changed.  Morals  make  frightful  progress,  everything 
degenerates  in  these  unlucky  days  ;  husbands  and  lovers  are  equally 
placid."  ' 

A  scene  takes  place  between  Sainfbrt — the  upright 
man,  friendly  to  Racine,  alexandrines,  and  regular 
tragedies  — and  Prousas,  who  defends  his  favourite 
ideas  ;  ideas  which  have  since  met  with  a  success  that 
Cubieres  little  anticipated.  There  especially  we  see 
his  irony  turn  against  him  ;  he  wanted  to  make 
Prousas  ridiculous  ;  time  has  avenged  Prousas,  as  well 
as  Amidor,  the  Visionnaire  derided  of  old  by  Saint 
Sorlin,  and  nothing  better  shows  the  change  which  has 

1    "  Prousas.    Et  Particle  Paris  ? 

Cornet.  Quelle  idee  est  la  votre  ? 

11  est  en  accidents  moins  fertile  qu'un  autre  : 
Le  Francais  vit  au  sein  des  plaisirs  et  des  jeux. 
Voulc/.-vous  qu'on  se  tue  alors  qu'on  est  heureux  ? 

Prousas.   Eh  quoi  !   pas  seulement  un  petit  suicide  ? 

Cornet.      Pas  le  moindre. 

Prousas.  Tant  pis.      Ouelquc  beau  parricide 

M'aurait  fait  grand  plaisir.     Point  dc  rapt,  point  de  viol, 
Pas  un  assassinat  ? 

Cornet.  Pas  seulement  un  vol. 

Prousas.    Les  temps  sont  bien  mauvais. 

Cornet.  [adis,  pour  lours  mattresses, 

Qui  nc  leur  rendaient  pas  tendresses  pour  tendresses, 
Les  amants  se  tuaient,  et  les  maris  jaloux, 
Autour  de  leur  logis,  rodant  comme  des  loups, 
Plus  d'une  fois,  suivant  leur  noire  frenesie, 
D'immoler  leurs  monies  avaient  la  hmtaisie  ; 
Tout  est  change.      Les  niceurs  font  des  progres  afFreux, 
Tout  degenere  enfin  dans  ces  temps  malheureux  ; 
Autant  que  les  amants  les  maris  sont  paisibles." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  347 

come  about  than  this  prodigious  and  almost  incredible 
shifting  of  views  : — 

"  Sainfort.  So,  then,  each  object  that  strikes  your  eye  will 
furnish  you  with  the  theme  for  a  serious  drama  ?  Everything 
will  seem  good  to  you  ? 

Prousas.  Yes,  despising  protests,  I  shall  go  and  seek  my  heroes 
on  the  market-place  ;  and  if  any  one  finds  fault,  I  shall  do  more, 
and  carry  my  pencils  even  into  hospitals. 

Sainfort.     That  wili  be  touching  ! 

Prousas.  How  blind  we  are  !  The  poor,  my  dear  sir,  are  they 
not  men  ?  Whv  should  we  abstain  from  depicting  those  good 
folks  ?      Nothing   in    this   world   is   vile   save   the   wicked  !  "  * 

People  laughed  at  these  words  in  1776;  this  scene 
was  judged  "  amusing  by  the  mere  unfolding  of  the 
principles  of  dramaturgy,  which  it  suffices  to  state  in 
order  to  excite  laughter.2  Sainfort,  the  upright  man, 
shrugs  his  shoulders  ;  no  doubt,  he  says,  "  men  of  the 
people  are  respectable,"  but  why  depict  their  manners 
or  their  faults  r  "  The  faults  of  a  clown  can  correct 
no  one  ;  those  of  sovereigns  serve  as  lessons  to  us.  The 
learned  nurslings  of  the  chaste  sisters  should,  therefore, 

1  "  Sainfort.  Ainsi  done,  chaque  objet  qui  frappera  vos  yeux 

Vous  pretera  le  fond  d'un  drame  serieux  ? 

Tout  vous  paraitra  bon  ? 
Prousas.  Oui,  bravant  le  scandale, 

Je  veux  aller  chercher  mes  heros  a  la  halle  ; 

Et  si  Ton  me  chicane,  arme  de  mes  pinceaux, 

Je  ferai  plus  ;   j'irai  jusqu'en  des  hopitaux. 
Sainfort.   Cela  sera  touchant  ! 
Prousas.  Aveugles  que  nous  sommes  ! 

Et  les  pauvres,  monsieur,  ne  sont-ils  pas  des  hommes  ? 

Pourquoi  n'oserait-on  peindre  ces  bonnes  gens  ? 

II  n'est  rien  ici-bas  de  vil  que  les  mechants  !  " 

2  "Annee  Lite,"  1778,  p.  262.    Cf.  "Les  Visionnaires,"  above,  p.  97. 


348  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

to  their  exquisite  lutes  and  on  our  brilliant  stages,  sing 
of  princes  rather  than  shepherds. 

"  Prousas.  Let  them  sing,  let  them  ;  I  cannot  do  as  much.  But 
the  kings  of  yore,  those  you  are  so  pleased  with,  when  they  wanted 
to  say,  I  love  you,  did  they  use  grandiloquence  ?  Had  they  the  art 
of  stitching  to  the  end  of  each  phrase  a  rhyme  and  the  boredom  of 
those  double  refrains  ?  Did  they  address  their  servants  in  alexan- 
drine verse  ?  Did  thev  follow  your  silly  methods  in  everything,  and 
did  they  make  love  as  one  makes  an  ode  ?  "  r 

Prousas  holds  good.  The  arrival  of  Sombreuses 
is  announced  ;  Sainfort's  affairs  are  in  a  bad  way. 
Encouraged  by  the  mocking  Dorimene,  sister  to 
Prousas,  he  feigns  a  conversion.  Dorimene  does  the 
same  :  "  We  are  cured  of  those  old  prejudices  which 
made  us  admire  Regnard  and  Moliere  ;  the  stage  must  be 
turned  into  a  graveyard,  Thalia  shall  wear  crape  and 
place  a  dagger  in  the  hands  of  the  loves." 

Sainfort  follows  in  her  wake  :  "  If  people  listened  to 
me,   that  pitiful   Bajazet   would   be    sent   back  to  the 

1   "  Sainfort.   Les  fautes  d'un  manant  ne  corrigent  personne  ; 
Celles  des  souverains  nous  servent  de  lemons. 
Ainsi  des  chastes  sceurs  les  doctes  nourrissons, 
Sur  leurs  luths  ravissants,  sur  nos  brillants  theatres, 
Doivent  plutot  chanter  des  princes  que  des  patres. 
Prousas.   Ou'ils   chantent,  c'est  fort   bien  ;   je    n'en    puis   faire 

autant. 
Mais  les  rois  d'autrefois,  ceux  qui  vous  plaisent  tant, 
Pour  dire  :  Je  vous  aime,  employaient  ils  Pemphase  ? 
Avaient-ils  l'art  de  coudre,  au  bout  de  chaque  phrase, 
Une  rime  et  l'ennui  de  ces  doubles  refrains  ? 
Parlaient-ils  a  leurs  gens  en  vers  alexandrins  ? 
Ne  suivaient-ils  en  tout  qu'une  sotte  methode 
Et  faisaient-ils  I'amour  comme  Ton  fait  une  ode  r 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  349 

Turks,  and  our  dramatic  authors,  disciples  of  Young, 
would  turn  all  his  Nights  into  comic  operas."  J  If  the 
"Night  Thoughts"  were  not  exactly  turned  into  comic 
operas,  they  were,  in  fact,  as  Madame  Riccoboni  had 
noticed,  none  the  less  popular.  They  were  several  times 
translated  ;  Colardeau  began  a  translation  in  verse,  and 
"  Young's  Cave "  was  thought  a  fit  object  to  adorn 
such  a  place  as  the  beautiful  park  "  a  l'anglaise "  of 
Count  d'Albon,  at  Franconville.2 

Sombreuses  appears  at  last,  as  late  in  the  play  as 
Tartufe  in  Moliere's  comedy.  He  is  in  mourning 
from  head  to  foot  :  "  He  looks  like  the  ghost  in  a 
famous  English  drama  "  : — 

"  II  ressemble  au  fantome 
D'un  fameux  drame  anglois." 

He  has  gone  into  black  because  one  of  his  travelling 
companions  has  been  killed  by  brigands  : — 

1  "  Dcrimene.   Nous  somraes  revenus  de  ces  vieux  prejuges 

(_)ui  nous  faisaient  aimer  et  Regnard  et  Molierc, 
II  taut  que  de  la  scene  on  fasse  un  cimetierc, 
(^ue  d'un  crepe  Thalie  enlace  ses  atours, 
(Ju'elle  mette  un  poignard  dans  la  main  des  Amours. 
Sainfort.  ...  Si  Ton  me  croyait 

On  renverrait  aux  Turcs  leur  triste  Bajazet, 
Et,  disciples  d'Young,  nos  auteurs  dramatiques 
Mettraient  toutes  ses  Nuits  en  operas  comiques." 
2  Le  Tourneur's  translation,  in   prose,  enjoved  a  wide  popularity 

(queer,  romantic  frontispiece).    Colardeau  translated  into  verse,  very 

freely,  the  two  first  Nights  : — 

"Toi,  le  dieu  du  repos  et  que  Pombre  environne, 
Sommeil,  viens  m'assoupir  .  .  ." 

He  adapted  also  Pope's  "Epistle  from  Eloisa." 


35o  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

"  Prousas.   Was  he  related  to  you  ? 

Sombreuses.   No,  but  his  title  of  man  had  made  him  my  brother." 

Sainfort's  chances  lessen  every  moment,  in  spite  of 
his  pretended  conversion.  Sombreuses  praises  Prousas' 
dramas  that  his  father  has  had  performed  in  Lyons  : — 

"  In  the  temple  of  memory,  your  pictures  are  all  engraved  a  la 
manure  noire. 

Prousas.  That  is  the  right  hue  ;  Albano  lived  but  a  few  days  ; 
Rembrandt's  touch  will  charm  us  ever. 

Sombreuses.   An  English  coal  stands  you  in  lieu  of  pen. 

Dor'wiene.   Yes,  but  his  coal  never  takes  fire." 

Sombreuses  is  unmasked  at  last  by  some  means  or 
other,  unlikely  and  awkward,  and  Sainfort  marries 
Sophie  ;  we  may  be  sure  there  will  not  be  many 
Rembrandts  in  their  drawing-room. 

Thus,  before  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie-Antoinette,  in 
the  presence  of  the  assembled  court,  spoke  the  Chevalier 
Michel  de  Cubieres  de  Palmezeaux,  younger  brother  of 
the  Marquis  de  Cubieres.  He  derided  sombre  dramas  ; 
he  depicted  the  French  living  "in  the  midst  of  pleasures 
and  amusements,"  and  unable  to  take  interest  in  any- 
thing save  the  adventures  of  kings.  He  little  thought 
then  that  he  should  see  dramas  enacted  more  sombre 
than  those  of  Prousas,  that  he,  Cubieres,  should  one 
day  be  "  secretaire-greffier "  to  the  Commune,  sign 
wine  tickets  for  the  slaughterers  at  the  Abbaye,  on  the 
2nd  and  3rd  of  September,  1792,  and  live  long  enough 
to  sing  the  Eighteenth  Brumaire,  Marengo,  and  the 
return  of  the  Bourbons.  He  was  able,  between 
whiles,  to  dedicate  "to  her  Imperial  Highness  Stephanie 
Napoleon,  now  Electoral  Princess  of  Baden,"  daughter 


YOUNG'S    CAVE.   IX    COUNT    DALBONS   "  PARC  X   L'AXGLAISE,"   AT 
FRANCONVILLE.      SECOND   HALF   OF   THE   EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY. 

[A  351- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II 


3d  J 


by  adoption  to  "  the  greatest  prince  in  the  universe,"  a 
"  Romeo  et  Juliette,  tragtdie  lvrique,"  wherein  he 
declared  that  "  Juliet  is  the  masterpiece  of  nature," 
and,  heedless  of  the  sombreness  of  the  catastrophe, 
offered  at  the  end  the  spectacle  of  Romeo  dying  in 
frightful  contortions  from  the  effects  of  a  "subtile 
poison."  The  stage  is  planted  with  "  cypresses  and 
other  funereal  trees  ;  "  the  "  tune  of  a  lugubrious  march 
is  heard  ;  "  Juliet  "  speaks  in  a  weak  and  lugubrious 
voice.  .  .  .  The  effect  of  the  poison  is  rendered  bv 
Romeo  with  the  verity  of  nature  ;  he  bows  himself, 
stands  erect  again  and  presses  his  hands  to  his  suffering 
bosom  ;  from  time  to  time  cries  of  agony  escape 
him."1  Cubieres,  who  had  made  his  peace  successively 
with  the  people,  with  emperors  and  with  kings,  had 
also  made  his  peace  with  Shakespeare. 

1  "  Romeo  et  Juliette,  tragedie  lvrique,"  by  Moline  and  Cubieres, 
Paris,  1806,  8°.  See  among  other  works  by  the  same,  "  Les  deux 
centenaires  de  Corneille,  pieces  en  un  acte  et  en  vers,  par  M.  le 
Chevalier  de  Cubieres,  de  l'Academie  de  Lvon,"  Paris,  178;.  i 
Cubieres  advocated  in  it  the  same  ideas  as  in  his  "  Manie  des 
drames  sombres  "  ;  he  showed  False  Taste  promoting  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  tragic  Muse  : — 

"  Le  Faux  Gout.  Point  d'unites  !   bravo  !  C'est  ce  que  j'aime. 

Oii  se  passe  l'acte  premier  r 
V Auteur  tragique.  Dans  le  senat  romain. 
Le  Faux  Gout.  Le  second  r 

V  Auteur  tragique.  A  la  Chine. 
Le  Faux  Gout.          Le  troisieme  r 

V Auteur  tragique.  Au  serail  ;  c'est  le  plus  regulier. 

Le  Faux  Gout.  Le  quatrieme  : 

V  Auteur  tragique.  A  Sparte,  au  Japon  le  dernier." 

There   are    five  intrigues   instead   of  one,   and    the    work    is,    of 
course,  in  prose. 

24 


354  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 


III. 

"  For  several  years  past,  the  most  perfect  harmony, 
the  most  touching  union,  reigned  between  France  and 
England  ;  never  had  there  subsisted,  between  two  neigh- 
bouring and  rival  nations,  a  more  flourishing  commerce 
of  ridicules,  fashions,  and  tastes.  If  our  swords,  our 
carriages,  our  gardens  are  *  a  l'anglaise,'  all  Great 
Britain  is  no  less  fond  of  our  feathers,  our  top-knots, 
and  our  trinkets  of  every  kind.  .  .  .  Thus,  little  by 
little,  disappear  those  barbarous  prejudices  which  pre- 
vent nations  from  instructing  and  civilizing  one  another. 

"  We  see,  with  great  bitterness  and  sorrow,  that  a 
harmony  so  desired  and  so  precious  is  in  great  danger 
of  being  troubled,  and  of  being  troubled  by  a  circum- 
stance which  seemed  calculated  to  augment  it  still 
more  ;  it  is  the  unfortunate  translation  of  Shakespeare 
which  has  just  raised  this  storm.  M.  de  Voltaire,/ 
although  he  doubtless  had  more  reason  than  any  one 
else  to  love  the  glory  of  this  great  man,  could  notj 
learn,  without  indignation,  that  the  French  had  had 
the  weakness  to  sacrifice  to  this  foreign  idol  the 
immortal  wreaths  of  Corneille  and  Racine.  His 
patriotic  resentment  has  already  burst  forth,  in  the 
liveliest  manner,  in  a  letter  to  M.  le  Comte  d'Argental 
.  .  .  He  has  now  appealed  to  the  justice  of  the  French 
Academy  itself.  Must  not  this  step  be  regarded  as  a 
declaration   of  war    in    due    form  ?     It   is   difficult  to 

1  Infra,  p.  375.  The  letter  was  a  manifesto,  written  to  be  shown. 
La  Harpe  sends  a  copy  of  it  to  the  Grand  Duke  of  Russia  :  "  Corrc- 
spondancc  littcraire  adressee  au  Grand  Due  ;  "  letter  51. 


PIERRE   FELICIEX   LE  TOURXEUR. 

By  Pujas,  from  life,  1787. 


[£3i 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  357 

foresee  its  consequences,  but  they  cannot  fail  to  be 
extremely  serious.  We  know  the  entire  English 
nation  idolatrously  worships  Shakespeare's  genius. 
Will  it  allow  the  French  Academy  to  quietly  discuss 
the  title  deeds  of  that  worship  ?  Will  it  recognise  the 
competence  of  these  foreign  judges  ?  Will  it  not  try 
to  secure  adherents  among  our  own  literary  men  ?  Can 
one  forget  how  much  wrath,  hatred,  and  fury  quarrels 
of  that  kind,  and  for  causes  far  less  interesting,  have 
produced  r "  Thus  reads  the  "  Correspondance  litteraire  " 
of  Grimm  and  Diderot  in  July,  1776. 

It  was,  indeed,  no  longer  a  matter  of  skirmishes  nor 
of  make-believe  war.  Real  war  was  beginning  and 
had  been  declared  in  "  due  form."  All  the  troops 
were  out,  and  old  Marshal  Voltaire  had  taken  the 
command  of  them.  The  cause  of  the  quarrel  was 
an   intolerable   encroachment   of  Shakespeare's. 

Hitherto  he  had  preserved  an  attitude  modest 
enough ;  he  had  been  translated,  but  incompletely  ; 
many  of  his  plays  had  been  only  analyzed  by  La 
Place,  besides  which  the  latter's  undertaking  was  a 
private  work  which  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  public 
powers.  In  1776,  the  Comte  de  Catuelan,  Le  Tour- 
neur,  and  Fontaine-Malherbe,  announced  a  complete 
translation  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare.1  The 
announcement    made    a    great    stir  ;    the    young    king, 

1  "Shakespeare  traduit  de  l'anglois,"  Paris,  1776,  ff.  20  vols.,  40. 
The  work  was  due  especially  to  Le  Tourneur  ;  his  name  appears 
on  the  title  page  from  vol.  iii.  ;  it  was  very  superior  to  La  Place's 
work,  although  far  from  attaining  the  scrupulous  exactness  which 
is  required  in  our  day.  Even  then,  a  few  liberties  attracted  atten- 
tion and  were  censured.      There  is  no  doubt  that  the  "  Journal   de 


358  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

anxious  to  please  everybody,  not  forgetting  even  De 
Belloy,  whom  he  had  just  made  a  present  to,1  accepted 
the  dedication  of  the  work,  which  was  published  by 
subscription,  as  Voltaire's  "  Henriade  "  had  been,  and 
more  lately  his  "  Theatre  de  Corneille  avec  des  Com- 
mentaires."  A  series  of  engravings,  under  separate 
covers,  were  to  accompany  the  new  Shakespeare. 
The  artist  selected  was  "  M.  Moreau,  whose  name 
needs  no  praise,"  but  whose  zeal  needed  encourage- 
ment, and  who  never  got  beyond  a  single  plate 
representing     the    "  Tempest."       At     the     beginning 

politique  et  dc  litterature  "  (June  5,  1778)  could  think  with  some 
reason  that  the  vague  lyricism  of  Jago's  song  in  Le  Tourneur  : — 

"Dans  la  bassessc  ou  tu  respires, 
N'afFecte  point  l'orgueil  d'un  vetement  nouveau,"  &c, 

was  but  an  indifferent  rendering  of  the  English  original  : — 

"  King  Stephen  was  a  worthy  peer  ; 
His  breeches  cost  him  but  a  crown.   .   .   ." 

On  Le  Tourneur's  translation,  see  M.  Beljame's  (very  severe) 
appreciations,  "  Macbeth,  texte  critique,"  Introduction,  Paris,  1897. 
Since  the  French  edition  of  the  present  book  was  issued,  M.  Beljame 
wrote  to  its  author:  "  Je  nc  crois  pas  avoir  etc  severe  pour  Le 
Tourneur.  Peut-on  l'etre,  d'ailleurs,  pour  un  homme  qui  attribue 
a  Shakespeare  des  phrases  comme  cclle-ci  :  '  Determine  comme  un 
rat  sans  queue  ?  '  II  n'y  a  pas  a  ctre  severe,  il  n'y  a  qu'a  le  citer. 
*Et  il  a  bien  d'autres  mefaits  sur  la  conscience  "  (December  29, 
1898).  No  doubt  he  has.  But  can  it  be  contested  that  all  a  man 
needs,  to  deserve  indulgence,  nay  gratitude,  is  to  have  improved, 
not  at  all  upon  the  men  who  came  after  him,  but  upon  those  who 
came  before  ?  This,  Le  Tourneur  did,  and,  for  all  his  blunders  he 
nevertheless  deserves,  as  I  think,  some  indulgence  and  gratitude. 
'    Ducis  to  Scdainc,  January  25,  1775. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY     PART  II  35  9 

of  the  first  volume  figured  a  list  of  subscribers  ;  it 
included  the  King,  the  Queen,  Monseigneur  le  Comte 
d'Artois,  the  princesses  of  the  House  of  France, 
Monseigneur  le  Prince  de  Conde,  the  King  of 
England,  "  Sa  Majeste  l'lmperatrice  de  toutes  les 
Russies,"  followed  by  a  quantity  of  celebrities  :  the 
Comte  d'Argental  (Voltaire's  friend),  the  Due  de 
Choiseul,  "M.  Turgot,  Ministre  d'Etat,"  the  Comte 
de  Vergennes,  "  M.  Necker,  Ministre  de  la  Rtpub- 
lique  de  Geneve,"  "  M.  le  Chevalier  de  Cubieres  de 
Palmezeaux,"  Diderot,  Ducis,  Garrick,  d'Holbach, 
Mercier,  "  six  English  gentlemen,  lovers  of  old 
Shakespeare "  (in  English  in  Le  Tourneur's  list), 
Russians,  Germans,  Spaniards,  Dutchmen,  princes  and 
commoners,  secretaries  of  embassv,  consuls,  comedians  ; 
the  most  famous  names  in  France  and  abroad  :  the  new 
Shakespeare  was  a  European  event. 

In  their  epistle  to  Louis  XVI.  the  authors  expatiated 
on  the  greatness  and  originality  of  Shakespeare's  genius, 
and  displayed  an  enthusiasm  unknown  till  then  :  "Never 
did  a  man  of  genius  penetrate  more  deeply  into  the 
abysses  of  the  human  heart,  or  make  passions  better 
speak  the  language  of  nature.  Prolific  as  nature  her 
self,  he  endowed  his  innumerable  personages  with  that 
astonishing  variety  of  character  which  she  dispenses  to 
the  individuals  she  creates.  Born  in  a  low  condition 
and  in  a  yet  barbarous  age,  he  had  only  nature  before 
him.  He  divined  that  she  was  the  model  he  must 
follow,  and  that  the  great  secret  of  dramatic  art  con- 
sisted in  creating  on  the  stage  men  resembling  in  every 
respect  those  modelled  by  her  hands."  He  thought  he 
might  paint  men  of  the  people  after  men  of  the  Court  ; 


360  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

he  interested  himself  in  "  humanity  "  long  before  the 
days  of  eighteenth  century  philosophers.  Leaving 
palaces  and  "  descending  to  the  poor  man's  hut,  he 
saw  humanity  there  and  did  not  disdain  to  depict  it 
in  the  lower  classes.  He  painted  nature  wherever  he 
found  her  and  disclosed  all  the  recesses  of  the  human 
heart,  busying  himself  with  scenes  in  real  life.  These 
naive  and  true  pictures  will  not  be  without  charm  in 
the  eyes  of  your  Majesty,  who  is  pleased  to  descend 
sometimes  from  the  throne,  in  order  to  seek,  under  the 
humble  roof  of  the  ploughman  or  of  the  artisan,  truth, 
nature,  and  objects  for  his  benevolence.  Should  the 
philosopher  and  the  man  of  letters  be  more  disdainful 
than  kings,  and  should  they  blush  to  descend  to  these 
lowest  classes  of  society  ?  No  :  it  would  be  barbarity 
to  hold  one  half  of  the  human  race  to  be  but  a  vile 
scum  unworthy  of  the  pencil  of  genius  and  devoted  to 
its  scorn." 

We  may  imitate  the  art  of  Louis  XIV.,  but  we 
cannot  restore  it  to  life;  our  copies  are  paler  and  paler  : 
"  Thus  we  are  condemned  to  crouch  before  the  great 
men  who  came  before  us.  Herds  branded  with  the 
name  of  imitators,  we  all  belong  to  masters.  Our 
thoughts,  the  aspirations  of  our  soul,  are  chained,  and 
this  servitude,  transmitted  to  our  descendants,  will 
perpetuate  itself  from  age  to  age.  .  .  ."  Let  us  then 
•try  to  react,  and  see  if  there  exist  no  other  means  to 
move  and  to  please  ;  we  can  do  it  without  neglecting 
the  cult  of  our  ancestors  :  "  Shakespeare  can  appear 
with  confidence  in  the  country  of  Corneille,  Racine  and 
Moliere,  and  demand  of  the  French  that  tribute  of 
glory  which  every  nation  owes  to  genius  and  which  he 


THE  EIGHTEEXJH  CENTURY.     PART  II         361 

would  have  received  from  those  great  men  had  he  been 
known  to  them."  Foreseeing,  however,  the  storm  that 
such  an  audacious  enterprise  could  not  fail  to  raise,  Le 
Tourneur  added  :  "  You  will  not  share  these  vain 
alarms,  oh  you,  revered  shades  of  our  great  dramatic 
poets.  Freed  from  the  prejudices  and  petty  interests 
of  our  critics,  sure  of  your  immortality,  you  prefer  the 
stranger  who  has  known  how  to  invent  in  your  art,  to 
the  insipid  incense,  the  cold  copies  of  your  servile 
imitators  ;  and  like  the  Romans,  you  behold  the  gods 
of  other  nations  enter  the  Capitol,  without  fearing  the 
desertion  of  your  altars  or  any  abatement  in  the  worship 
due  to  the  mother  country." 

All  the  eloquence  of  these  appeals  could  not  touch 
Voltaire,  whose  indignation  had  been  growing  for  years 
and  was  ready  to  overflow.  Had  he  not  granted  the 
monster  enough  ?  Had  he  not  introduced  certain 
liberties  on  to  the  French  stage  ?  HacT  he  not  ven- 
tured into  those  darksome  foreign  woods,  pruning, 
trimming,  and  reducing  them  to  regularity  (for- 
getting what  he  had  said  himself  about  the  wild 
trees  that  die  if  you  try  to  force  their  nature  and  to 
trim  them  like  the  trees  in  the  Marly  gardens)?  And 
now  more  still  was  wanted  ;  not  content  with  his  dis- 
placement of  the  landmark,  they  objected  to  any 
landmark  at  all  ;  his  revolt  was  not  enough,  and  a 
revolution  was  threatening. 

Numerous  symptoms  had  foreshadowed  the  event 
from  the  middle  of  the  century.  Imitations,  intended 
for  the  stage,  had  multiplied  ;  studies  more  and  more 
minute  and  judgments  more  and  more  eulogistic  upon 
Shakespeare    and    the    English   drama    had    come    out. 


362  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Men  of  fashion,  e sprits  forts,  Counts  de  B*  *  *  would 
now  possess  a  Shakespeare,  sometimes  an  English  one, 
as  Sterne  once  discovered,  to  his  great  advantage — 
"...  And  does  the  Count  de  B*  *  *,  said  I,  read 
Shakespeare  ?  .  .  .  Cest  un  esprit  fort,  replied  the 
bookseller" — and  thanks  to  Shakespeare  and  to  the 
Count's  partiality  for  the  great  man,  the  traveller  could 
at  last,  as  everybody  knows,  secure  the  famous  pass- 
port "  directed  to  all  lieutenant-governors,  governors, 
and  commandants  of  cities  to  let  Mr.  Yorick,  the 
King's  jester,  and  his  baggage,  travel  quietly  along." 
Festivities  had  been  organised,  a  jubilee  had  been 
celebrated  in  honour  of  Shakespeare  ;  it  had  been  held 
in  remote  Stratford  (September,  1769),  but  the  noise  of 
this  unwonted  solemnity  had  spread  throughout  Europe  : 
"  A  festival  worthy  of  ancient  Athens,"  said  Suard  ; 
and  the  "  Journal  Anglais  "  published  in  French  prose  : 
"'Shakespeare's  Mulberry  Tree,'  a  song  sung  at  the 
festival  of  Shakespeare's  jubilee  by  M.  Garrick  who 
held  in  his  hand  a  cup  made  out  of  the  wood  of  a 
mulberry  tree  planted  by  the  poet."  l 

The  echoes  had  sent  the  sound  of  applause  as  far  as 
Ferney,  and  people  were  beginning  to  wonder  whether 
it  would  not  be  well  to  do  something,  and  follow,  for 
national  authors,  the  example  given  by  Garrick  in 
favour  of  his  idol.  Hence  a  "  great  stir  (in  Paris) 
'  among  the  amateurs  of  Apollo's  divine  art  .  .  ." 
Efforts  must  be  made  to  re-establish  the  equilibrium. 

1  "Le  Murier  dc  Shakespeare,  chanson  que  M.  Garrick  chanta 
a  la  fete  du  Jubile  de  Shakespeare,  en  tenant  a  la  main  une  coupe 
faite  du  bois  d'un  murier  que  le  poete  avait  planteV' — "Journal 
Anglais,"  April  15,  1776. 


VOLTAIRE'S   STATl'E. 

By  Pigallc,  1776.     Presented  in  the  Library  of  the  Institute.  Pun's. 

[P-  363- 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         365 

"  Men  of  letters  suggest  an  immense  rotunda  ;  fanatics 
propose  a  single  column  which  should  be  dedicated  to 
Voltaire.  Some  obstinate  old  things  call  that  a 
sacrilege  :  What  then  of  Corneille  ?  they  say  ;  where 
shall  we  put  him,  pray  ?  The  sceptics  have  ended 
the  dispute  ;  let  us  do  nothing,  they  said  ;  their 
sentiment  has  prevailed.  We  shall  have,  never- 
theless, Voltaire's  statue  by  subscription."  '  They 
had  it,  chiselled  by  Pigalle,  who  represented  the 
great  man  as  lean  as  nature  made  him  and  as  nude 
as  a  Roman  god.2  But  no  column,  no  rotunda,  no 
jubilee. 

Shakespeare's  festival  was  being  renewed  in  a 
thousand  different  ways.  Suard,  soon  after  member 
of  the  French  Academy,  had  inserted  in  his  "  Varietes 
litteraires,"  3  an  "  Essai   historique  sur  l'origine  et  les 

1  Madame  Riccoboni  to  Garrick,  October  1,  1770. 

2  Begun  at  Ferney  in  June,  1770  ;  finished  in  1776;  it  is  now 
in  the  library  of  the  Institute  in  Paris.  The  skin  is  almost  trans- 
parent ;  the  skull  and  skeleton  are  visible.  When  Voltaire's  tomb 
was  opened  in  1897,  M.  Berthelot  noticed  the  exactness  of 
Pigalle's  chisel.  The  head  alone,  however,  was  modelled  from 
nature,  and  not  without  difficulty,  as  Voltaire  would  not  keep  quiet, 
dictated  letters  to  his  secretary  while  sitting,  and  made  faces, 
"grimaces  mortelles  pour  le  statuaire."  The  body  was  copied 
from  an  old  soldier  whose  build  had  the  greatest  similitude  to  Vol- 
taire's. "Apres  avoir  cherche  la  tete  du  patriarche  a  Ferney,  il  a 
pris  ici  un  vieux  soldat  sur  lequel  il  a  modele  sa  statue  avec  une 
verite  surprenante,  mais  qui  parait  hideuse  a  la  plupart  de  nos  juges. 
Leur  delicatesse,  qui  est  vraiment  nationale,  est  blessee  de  tout  ce 
qui  est  prononce  en  quelque  genre  que  ce  soit." — "  Correspondance 
Litteraire  de    Grimm,  Diderot,"  &c,  ed.  Tourneux  ix.,  285  (April, 

»770- 

3  "  Ou  recueil  de  pieces  tant  originales  que  traduites,"  Paris, 
1768,  4  vols. 


366  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

progres  du  drame  Anglais,"  containing  details  even  on 
the  obscure  predecessors  of  the  great  man,  on  Mysteries, 
Moralities,  Interludes,  on  1'"  Eguille  de  Dame  Gurton  " 
("Gammer  Gurton's  Needle"),  "  Gorboduc "  and  the 
dramas  of  Euphuistic  Lyly.  He  had  given,  in  the 
same  collection,  some  "  Observations  sur  Shakespeare," 
translated  from  Dr.  Johnson  :  x  he  thus  contributed  to 
the  glory  of  Shakespeare,  whom  he  himself,  however, 
judged  very  severely.2  All  the  dictionaries  and  en- 
cyclopaedias now  contained  flattering  notices  :  Bayle's 
Dictionary,  formerly  silent,  informed  its  readers,  in  its 
"  Supplement,"  that  Shakespeare's  characters  are  so 
exactly  nature  itself  that  it  is  a  kind  of  insult  to  give 
them  so  distant  a  qualification  as  that  of  copies  of 
nature. 3  The  Encyclopaedia  of  Diderot,  d'Alembert, 
and  Voltaire  himself  recurred  constantly  to  Shakespeare 
under  the  words  Genius,  Stratford,  Tragedy,  &c,  and 
in  these  two  last  articles,  written  by  the  Chevalier  de 
Jaucourt,  the  dramatist  was  compared  "  to  the  stone, 
set  in  Pyrrhus's  ring,  which,  according  to  Pliny,  repre- 

1  "Observations  sur  Shakespeare,  tirees  de  la  preface  que  M.  S. 
Johnson  a  misc  en  tete  d'une  nouvelle  edition  des  ceuvres  de  ce 
poete." 

2  "Je  voulus  faire  un  morceau  sur  [Shakespeare]  et  je  me  suis 
mis  a  le  relire  ;  mais  je  f'us  si  epouvante  des  extravagances  et  des 
pucrilites    qui    defiguraient   les    plus  belles  choses  que  la  plume  me 

•tomba  des  mains."  To  Garrick,  1776,  Corrcsp.,  II.,  471.  Same 
severity,  but  same  preoccupation  of  the  great  man  in  La  Harpe, 
very  hard  on  Le  Tourneur,  "  Corresp.  litt.  avee  le  Grand  Due," 
1  Hoi,  I.,  345. 

3  "Nouveau  Dictionnaire  historique  .  .  .  pour  servir  de  Supple- 
ment au  Dictionnaire  de  Bayle,"  by  J.  G.  de  Chaufepie,  Amster- 
dam, 1750,  ft".  Sub  verbo  Shakespeare,  vol.  iv.,  1756;  the  article 
(translated  from  the  English)  fills  ten  folio  pages. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  367 

sented,  in  the  veins  which  nature  had  traced  in  it 
without  any  help  from  art,  the  figure  of  Apollo  with 
the  nine  muses."  Marmontel  made  doctoral  reserves, 
but  he  too  was  taken  with  vertigo  and  gave  way  to  the 
attraction  of  the  abyss.1  Mercier  went  to  the  verge 
of  idolatry  in  his  book,  "  Du  Theatre  ou  nouvel  essai 
sur  l'art  dramatique."  2  He  had  the  audacity  to  take 
up  La  Motte's  theories,  to  strengthen  them,  to  add 
to  them,  to  carry  them  so  far  as  to  make  them 
blasphemous  ;  and  honest  De  Belloy,  who,  since  the 
success  of  the  "  Siege  de  Calais,"  thought  himself  a 
poet,  cried  louder  than  Voltaire  :  "  La  Motte  rises 
again  from  his  ashes,  he  is  a  hydra  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  destroy  !  ...  La  Motte  is  reproduced 
in  a  crowd  of  sectators  whose  credit  augments  every 
day."  3 

Mercier  declared  himself  a  partisan  of  prose,  of  the 
mingling  of  the  comic  with  the  tragic,  of  the  rabble, 
and  of  Shakespeare  :  "  Our  superb  tragedy,  so  highly 
praised,  is  only  a  phantom  clothed  in  purple  and  gold, 
but  with  no  life  in  it.  .  .  .  Our  haughty  poets  have 
been  guilty  of  widening  still  more  the  inhuman  dis- 
tances that  we  have  placed  between  fellow  citizens. 
He   should    rather    lessen    them,  but    he   would    have 


1  "  Shakespeare  a  un  merite  reel  et  transcendant  qui  frappe  tout 
le  monde.  II  est  tragique,  il  touche,  il  emeut  fortement.  Ce 
n'est  pas  cette  pitie  douce  qui  penetre  insensiblement  .  .  .  c'est 
une  terreur  sombre,  une  douleur  profonde  .  .  ." — "  Chefs-d'oeuvre 
dramatiques,"  Paris,  1773,  dedicated  to  Marie-Antoinette,  then 
dauphiness  ;  superb  engravings. 

2  Amsterdam,  1773,  8°. 

3  "Traite  de  la  Tragedie  "  ("  CEuvres,"  1779,  vol.  vi.). 


368  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

thought  himself  a  man  of  the  people  if  he  had 
condescended  to  write  for  the  people  ;  he  has  been 
punished  by  failing  really  to  understand  Nature." 
Our  art  has  been  cramped  in  too  narrow  a  field  : 
"  They  have  taken  a  vein  for  the  whole  mine,  and  they 
have  tried  to  make  believe  the  mine  was  exhausted, 
whereas  it  has  immense  ramifications."  People  laugh 
at  the  drama,  they  are  wrong  ;  it  is  the  style  that  best 
suits  the  stage  ;  Corneille  has  the  merit  of  having 
written  a  drama — the  "  Cid."  Mercier's  work  did  not 
pass  unperceived,  quite  the  contrary  ;  it  was  greatly 
discussed,  for  in  it  might  be  found,  it  was  said,  "  some 
strong  and  true  ideas,  a  great  love  of  humanity,"  that 
love  which  had  become  a  fashion,  "  some  of  those 
general  and  exaggerated  maxims  that  fire  the  enthu- 
siasm of  youths,  and  would  make  them  run  to  the 
world's  end,  and  abandon  father,  mother,  brother,  to 
come  to  the  assistance  of  an  Esquimau  or  a  Hotten- 
tot." ' 

Diderot  also,  Diderot  the  encyclopaedist,  Diderot  the 
friend  of  Voltaire,  already  told  everyone  he  came  across 
and  was  soon  to  write  to  Tronchin,  another  friend 
of  Voltaire's,  and  who  was  preparing  a  "Catilina": 
"  Ah  !  sir,  that  Shakespeare  was  a  terrible  mortal  ;  he 
is  not  the  antique  gladiator,  nor  the  Apollo  Belvedere, 
but  he  is  the  shapeless  and  rough-hewn  colossus  of 
Notre  Dame  (St.  Christopher) — a  Gothic  colossus,  but 
between    whose     legs    we     could     all     pass."2  —  All  ? 

'  "Correspondance  Litteraire  de  Grimm,  Diderot,"  &c,  cd.  Tour- 
neux,  July,  1774,  vol.  x.,  p.  463. 

2  December  18,  1776.  H.  Tronchin,  "  Lc  Conseiller  Francois 
Tronchin,"    Paris,    1895,    8°,   p.    227.     Diderot  would  have   liked 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  369 

thought  Voltaire,  and  his  indignation  waxed.  He 
expressed  it  of  course  in  the  name  of  Racine  and  Cor- 
neille.     Discord  was  in  Agramant's  camp. 

The  state  of  mind  of  the  Ferney  hermit  had  already 
been  made  apparent  in  the  "  Appel  a  toutes  les  Nations 
de  l'Europe,"  T  published  in  1761,  and  in  several 
essays,  various  skirmishes,  and  a  quantity  of  letters  : 
skirmishes  with  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Montagu,  "  la  Shake- 
spearienne,"  the  friend  of  Hannah  More  and  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  who  regretted  as  early  as  1755,  that  she  could 
not  "  burn  Voltaire  and  his  tragedy  "  (the  "  Orphelin 
de  la  Chine"),2  but  who  had  to  content  herself  with  a 
vengeance  less  complete  ;  skirmish  with  Walpole,  who, 
being  a  dilettante,  chose  to  praise  "  Athalie "  and 
"  Hamlet "  in  turn  ;  but  had  made  fun  of  Voltaire 
very  freely  in  the  second  preface  to  his  "  Castle  of 
Otranto  " — an  unlucky  preface  for  Shakespeare  him- 
self, as  Walpole  made  him  responsible  for  the 
style  of  his  novel,  and  even  Voltaire's  diatribes  con- 
tain    no    worse    abuse.     Voltaire    replied,    this    time, 

Tronchin  to  give  the  crowd  a  place  in  his  "Catilina,"  to  insert 
some  of  those  little  scenes  which  at  first  render  the  spectator 
anxious  and  then  carry  him  away  ;  in  a  word,  to  derive  inspiration 
from  the  example  of  Shakespeare. 

1  Reprinted  in  1764  under  the  title  "  Du  Theatre  Anglais."  bv 
Jerome  Carre  (Voltaire  replies  in  it  to  Two  articles  of  the  "Journal 
Encyclopedique,"  of  October  1  5  and  November  1,  176c.  Bengesco, 
"  Bibliographie,"  ii.  p.  96). 

2  Letter  to  her  sister,  Mrs.  Scott,  November  18,  1755,  "Letters 
of  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Montagu,"  London,  18 10,  4  vols.,  8°,  3rd  ed. 
Her  reply  to  Voltaire  appeared  in  1769:  "An  Essav  on  the 
writings  and  genius  of  Shakespear  compared  with  the  Greek  and 
French  dramatic  poets,  with  some  remarks  upon  the  misrepre- 
sentations of  M.  de  Voltaire"  ;  6th  edition  in  18  10. 

25 


37o  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

with  perfect  good  grace,1  "for  one  follows  the  rules  of 
courtesy  when  fighting  against  captains  who  are  men  of 
honour."  2 

But  real  war,  without  mercy,  was  certain,  inevitable,  and 
already,  on  the  occasion  of  this  very  incident,  Voltaire 
was  writing  to  the  Duchesse  de  Choiseul  :  "  The  wife  of 
the  protector  is  protectress  ;  the  wife  of  the  minister  of 
France  can  take  sides  with  the  French  against  the 
English  with  whom  I  am  at  war.  Deign  to  judge, 
Madame,  between  M.  Walpole  and  me.  .  .  .  You  will 
think  me  very  bold,  but  you  will  forgive  an  old  soldier 
who  is  fighting  for  his  country,  and  who,  if  he  displays 
any  taste,  will  have  fought  under  your  colours."  3 

The  time  for  caution  and  reserve  is  passed.  Shake- 
speare is  henceforth,  to  Voltaire,  a  maniac,  a  buffoon,  a 
grotesque  ;  he  is  Gille  of  the  fair  :  "  Gille,  in  a 
country  fair,  would  express  himself  with  more  de- 
cency and  nobleness  than  Prince  Hamlet."  What 
is  Gille  ?  for  since  the  palmy  days  of  the  "  Theatre 
de  la  Foire,"  the  personage  has  lost  a  little  of  his 
reputation.  Voltaire  has  defined  him  incidentally  : 
"  France,"  he  writes  to  Baron  de  Constant,  "  is  begin- 
ning to  imitate  your  Swiss  government.  Some  care  is 
taken  of  the  people,  the  corvees  are  being  abolished  : 
every  one  cries  Hosanna  !  For  myself,  I  am  like  silly 
Gille,  who  performs  his  little  tricks  six  inches  from  the 
ground  while  rope  dancers  tread  the  middle  region  of 


1  To  Walpole,  Ferncy,  July  15,  1768. 

2  To   Madame   du    Deffand,   a  propos  or   this   incident,  July  30, 
1768. 

3  July  1  5,  1768. 


SILLY   GILLE. 
From  an  eighteenth  century  plate. 


:/■  571- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  373 

the  air.  I  have  the  vanity  to  finish  my  little  town."  l 
But  usually  Voltaire  does  not  apply  this  name  to  him- 
self ;  he  reserves  it  for  everything  he  hates  ;  he  sticks 
it  on  "  that  Gille  called  Piron."  As  for  Gille-Shake- 
speare,  to  show  what  he  is  worth,  he  translates  "  nearly 
line  for  line  and  very  exactly,"  in  his  "  Lettre  a  un 
journaliste,"  the  monologue,  "  O  that  this  too  solid 
flesh,"  and  we  find  in  it  verses  like  these  : — 

"  Oh  !   si  l'Etre  eternel  n'avait  pas  du  canon 
Contre  le  suicide  !   .  .  .  6  ciel  !   6  ciel  !   6  ciel  !  " 

Heaven's  decrees  are  transformed  into  pieces  of 
ordnance  in  Voltaire's  "  very  exact  "  translation.2 

On  a  judge  thus  disposed,  full  of  glory,  but  jealous 
of  the  glory  of  all  others,  living  or  dead,  equally  hard 
on  Euripides,  Corneille,  Petrarch  and  Milton,  we  may 
readily  imagine  the  effect  produced,  after  the  jubilee, 
by  the  announcement  of  an  integral  translation  of 
Shakespeare,  dedicated  to  the  king,  honoured  with  the 
subscription    of  all    the   princes,    the   lettered   and   the 

1  To  the  Baron  de  Constant,  August  9,  1775.  He  refers  to 
Ferney,  which  is  getting  to  be  "  une  ville  singuliere  et  assez  jolie." 

2  Walpole  translates  with  the  same  facetious  inaccuracy  two  lines 
of  Racine's  : — 

"  De  son  appartement  cette  porte  est  prochaine 
Et  cette  autre  conduit  dans  celui  de  la  reine," 

which  become  in  his  English  : — 

"  To  Caesar's  closet  through  this  door  you  come, 
And  t'other  leads  to  the  queen's  drawing-room." 

Second  preface  to  the  "Castle  of  Otranto."  See  Voltaire's  replv, 
July  15,  1768. 


374  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

great  of  the  earth,  preceded  by  high-flown  prefaces  and 
sounding  speeches.  And  from  these  speeches  one 
might  have  inferred  that  the  French  stage  was  at  that 
moment  empty,  and  the  list  of  great  dramatists  closed  ; 
Corneille,  Racine,  and  Moliere  were,  it  is  true,  placed 
on  a  pinnacle,  but  not  a  word  was  said  about  the  men 
of  the  day  :  as  if  the  century  had  not  had  "  Zaire,"  and 
as  if  the  list  did  not  include  Voltaire.  For  Voltaire 
was  not  even  mentioned  :  it  was  assuredly  an  injustice. 
The  injustice  appeared  so  monstrous  to  the  party  most 
concerned,  that  not  finding  his  own  name,  it  seemed  to 
him  he  had  found  none  at  all,  and  in  the  polemics 
which  followed  he  never  ceased  to  reproach  Le 
Tourneur  with  having  not  even  mentioned  Corneille 
and   Racine. 

The  philosopher  of  Ferney  was  not  accustomed  to 
being  thus  passed  over  in  silence  ;  he  was  at  the  height 
of  his  glory  ;  he  was  usually  quoted  on  every  subject  ; 
he  was  praised,  and  in  what  strains  !  "  The  '  Henriade  ' 
will  be  our  Iliad,  for,  given  equal  talent,  what  com- 
parison, may  I  sav  in  my  turn,  can  there  be  between 
the  great  Henri  and  the  little  Ulysses  or  the  proud 
Agamemnon  ?  "  This  parallel  was  not  drawn  by  any 
mean  flatterer  ;  it  was  BufFon  who  thus  expressed 
himself  at  a  meeting  of  the  Academy,  when  receiving 
the  Marechal  de  Duras,  who  was  replacing  De  Belloy.1 
Many,  and  among  those  most  qualified  to  judge,  thought 

'  "  La  Henriade  sera  notre  lliade  ;  car,  a  talent  egal,  quelle  com- 
paraison,  dirai-je  a  mon  tour,  entre  le  bon  et  grand  Henri  ct  le  petit 
Ulysse  on  le  fier  Agamemnon."  May  15,  1775,  t;  Recueil  des 
harangues  prononcecs  par  MM.  de  l'Acadc;mie  Francoise,"  Paris, 
1  7  14,  ft".,  vol.  iii.,  p.  67. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  375 

like  La  Harpe,  who  said  later  in  his  "  Cours  de  Littera- 
ture  "  :  "I  am  very  far  from  comparing  to  '  Semiramis  ' 
a  monster  of  a  tragedy  like  Shakespeare's  '  Hamlet.'  ' 
And  a  smearer  of  paper,  a  nobody,  a  Pierrot  of  the 
fair,  a  Le  Tourneur,  dared  to  bring  Gille-Shakespeare 
to  court  and  to  talk  about  dramatic  art,  without 
remembering  that  a  Voltaire  had  been  born  !  This 
was  indeed,  it  must  be  observed,  only  one  grievance 
the  more,  for  in  this  indignation  there  was  a  great  part 
of  sincerity  ;  Voltaire  took  sides  with  Voltaire  first, 
but  he  was  also  very  sincerely  for  Racine  against 
Shakespeare. 

"  Have  you  by  any  chance  read,"  he  writes  from  the 
first  to  d'Argental,  "  two  volumes  by  that  wretch  (Le 
Tourneur)  in  which  he  tries  to  make  us  regard 
Shakespeare  as  the  only  model  for  real  tragedy  ? 
There  are  already  two  volumes  printed  of  that  Shake- 
speare which  seem  a  collection  of  plays  meant  for 
booths  at  the  fair  and  written  two  hundred  years  ago. 
.  .  .  There  are  not  enough  affronts,  enough  fool's  caps, 
enough  pillories  in  France  for  such  a  knave.  .  .  .  The 
worst  of  it  is  that  the  monster  has  a  party  in  France, 
and,  worse  than  the  worst,  I  was  myself  the  first  to 
speak  of  this  Shakespeare  ;  I  was  the  first  to  show  the 
French  a  few  pearls  that  I  had  found  in  his  enormous 
dunghill,"  July  19,  1776.  Ten  days  later,  another 
letter  ;  the  hour  of  battle  is  near,  the  engines  of  war 
are  got  in  readiness  :  "  My  dear  angel,  the  abomination 
of  desolation  is  in  the  Lord's  temple.  Le  Kain  .  .  . 
tells  me  that  nearly  all  the  youth  of  Paris  is  for  Le 
Tourneur  .  .  .  and  that  a  tragedy  in  prose  is  to  be 
given  in  which  an  assembly  of  butchers  is  shown  with 


376  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

wondrous  effect.  I  shall  die  leaving  France  barbarous  ; 
but  happily  you  live,  and  I  flatter  myself  that  the 
queen  (Marie-Antoinette)  will  not  let  her  new  country, 
of  which  she  is  the  charm,  be  the  prey  of  savages  and 
monsters.  I  flatter  myself  that  M.  le  Marechal  de 
Duras  will  not  have  done  us  the  honour  of  becoming 
a  member  of  the  Academy  to  see  us  eaten  by 
Hottentots.  ...  I  must  try  and  avenge  the  French 
before  dying.  I  have  sent  the  Academy  a  little  piece 
of  writing,  in  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  smother  my 
legitimate  grief,  and  to  let  only  my  reason  speak." 

Voltaire  had,  in  fact,  a  few  days  before,  on  the  26th 
of  July,  sent  his  "little  piece  of  writing"  to  d'Alem- 
bert  :  "  Secretary  of  Good  Taste  even  more  than  of  the 
Academy,  my  dear  philosopher,  my  dear  friend,  to  my 
help  !  Read  my  factum  against  our  enemy  Monsieur 
Le  Tourneur  ;  make  M.  Marmontel  and  M.  de  La 
Harpe,  who  have  an  interest  therein,  read  it  too.  .  .  . 
I  plead  for  France."  Voltaire's  intention  was  thus  to 
make  the  Academy  give  a  lesson  to  the  court  who  had 
so  lightly  taken  sides.  There  existed  a  precedent  :  the 
Academy  had  once  passed  judgment  on  Corneille  and 
his  "  Cid  "  ;  it  was  now  Shakespeare's  turn.  Voltaire 
wanted  his  letter  to  be  read  at  a  solemn  public  meeting, 
by  d'Alembert,  the  most  perfect  reader  of  his  day. 

A  preliminary  reading  took  place  privately  before 
the  assembled  academicians,  and  d'Alembert  informed 
his  friend  that  a  few  alterations  were  requested  : 
first,  "  offensive  personalities "  must  be  suppressed, 
and  Le  Tourneur  must  not  be  named.  "  Let  that 
be  no  hindrance,"  replied  Voltaire,  "  pray,  have  the 
kindness  not    to   pronounce  his  horrid  name."     Then 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  379 

there  were  terribly  coarse  passages  taken  from  Shake- 
speare, which  were  difficult  to  read  in  public.  What 
must  be  done  ?  You  must,  said  Voltaire,  pretend 
to  stop  from  shame  ;  the  hearer  "  will  let  his  imagina- 
tion run  far  beyond "  even  the  realities.  We  are  at 
war,  all  means  are  good,  even  ruse.  "The  great  point, 
my  dear  philosopher,  is  to  inspire  the  nation  with  the 
disgust  and  horror  it  ought  to  have  for  Gille-Le 
Tourneur,  preconizer  of  Gille-Shakespeare  ;  to  hold 
back  our  young  men  from  the  abominable  slough  into 
which  they  are  rushing.  .  .  .  But  I  conjure  you  not  to 
suppress  my  appeal  to  the  Queen  and  to  our  Princesses. 
They  must  be  induced  to  take  our  side,"  for  nothing 
should  be  neglected,  and  women's  opinion  is  of  account. 
All  is  settled  ;  the  reading  will  take  place  in  a  solemn 
seance,  on  St.  Louis's  day  ;  the  time  is  near  ;  d'Alembert 
sounds  the  charge  :  "  At  last,  my  dear  master,  the 
battle  is  about  to  begin  and  the  signal  is  given. 
Shakespeare  or  Racine  must  remain  on  the  field.  .  .  . 
Unfortunately  there  are  many  deserters  and  false 
brethren  among  [our]  men  of  letters,  but  the  deserters 
shall  be  taken  and  hanged." 

At  length  the  day  arrived.  "Of  the  Sunday,  25th 
of  August,  1776,"  we  read  in  the  Academy's  records  : 
"  the  company  repaired  in  the  morning  to  the  chapel 
of  the  Louvre,  where  it  heard  mass,  during  which  the 
Sieur  Francceur  had  a  motet  performed.  Then  Father 
Elisee,  preacher  to  the  king,  pronounced  the  panegyric. 
In  the  afternoon,  the  Academy,  to  the  number  of 
twenty-four  academicians,  held  its  usual  public  assembly. 
M.  le  Chevalier  de  Chastellux,  director  " — author  of  a 
"  Romeo  "   with  a  happy  ending — "  opened   the  seance 


380  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRAXCE 

by  a  discourse  relating  to  the  prize  for  poetry."  M. 
de  La  Harpe  read  the  prize  poems  ;  "  M.  l'abbe 
Arnaud  then  read  some  reflections  on  Homer."  At 
last  the  turn  came  for  M.  le  Secretaire  to  read  "  a 
writing  by  M.  de  Voltaire  on  the  tragedies  of 
Shakespear."  l 

The  hall  was  crowded.  Many  celebrities,  a  number 
of  foreigners  were  present,  and  among  the  latter,  that 
same  Mrs.  Montagu,  "la  Shakespearienne,"  who  had 
once  wanted  to  burn  Voltaire  and  now  found  herself 
on  the  gridiron.  So,  in  his  best  voice,  attentive,  "  not 
to  see  this  cannon  miss  fire,  when  he  had  undertaken 
to  fire  it,"  d'Alembert  did  honour  to  his  friend's  essay. 
Voltaire  protested  at  first,  on  the  occasion  "  of  a  few 
foreign  tragedies  recently  dedicated  to  the  king  our 
protector,"  against  Anglomania  in  general,  and  against 
the  troublesome  jubilee  :  "  A  part  of  the  English 
nation  has  lately  erected  a  temple  to  the  famous  poet- 
comedian  Shakespeare,  and  has  founded  a  jubilee  in  his 
honour.  A  few  French  people  have  tried  to  feel  the 
same  enthusiasm.  They  transport  among  us  an  image 
of  god-like  Shakespeare  ;  as  certain  other  imitators 
have  erected  a  Vaux-hall  in  Paris,  and  others  have 
made  themselves  conspicuous  by  giving  the  name  of 
roast-beef  to  their  aloyaux,  and  prided  themselves  on 
serving  on  their  tables  roast-beef  of  mutton,"  du  roast- 
beef  de  mouton.2 

1  "  Lcs  Rcgistrcs  dc  l'Acadcmie  Franchise,  1672-1793  "  ;  cd. 
Camillc  Doucct,  Paris,  1895,  3  vols.  8°,  vol.  iii.,  p.  399. 

2  "  Unc  partic  dc  la  nation  anglaisc  a  erige,  dcpuis  pcu,  un  temple 
au  famcux  comedien-poetc  Shakespeare  et  a  fondc"  un  jubilcen  son 
honneur.      Quelques    Francais   out   tactic"  d'avoir  le   memc   cnthou- 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  383 

Moderation  is  needful  in  all  things  ;  the  author  of 
the  "  Lettres  Philosophiques,"  had  formerly  said  about 
everything  it  was  proper  to  know  on  England  :  "  A 
man  of  letters,  who  has  the  honour  to  be  your  confrere, 
was  the  first  among  you  to  learn  the  English  language, 
the  first  to  make  Shakespeare  known."  He  was 
derided  then  ;  but  afterwards  an  exorbitant  reaction 
took  place  :  "  Soon  all  the  books  printed  in  London 
were  translated.  People  went  from  one  extreme  to 
the  other.  They  cared  for  nothing  but  what  came, 
or  was  supposed  to  come,  from  that  country."  The 
worst  thing  of  the  kind  yet  seen  is  this  new  translation 
in  which  the  author  "  endeavours  to  sacrifice  France  to 
England."  Not  one  Frenchman  "  is  quoted  in  his 
preface  of  a  hundred  and  thirty  pages.  The  great 
Corneille's  name  is  not  once  to  be  found  in  it." 

Now,  what  is  this  English  drama,  about  which  so 
much  noise  is  made  ?  A  collection  of  "  wild  "  plays  ; 
Shakespeare  has  the  barbarity  of  his  day  ;  and,  in 
his  day,  people  liked  "the  tragedy  of  '  Gorboduc.' 
'Twas  a  good  king,  the  husband  of  a  good  queen  ;  thev 
divided  in  the  first  act  their  kingdom  between  two 
children,  who  quarrelled  about  this  division  :  the 
youngest  gave  the  eldest  a  box  on  the  ear  in  the 
second  act  ;  the  eldest,  in  the  third  act,  killed  the 
youngest  ;  the  mother,  in  the  fourth,  killed  the 
eldest  ;  the  king,  in  the  fifth,  killed  Queen  Gorboduc  ; 

siasme.  lis  transporters  chez  nous  une  image  de  la  divinite  de 
Shakespeare  ;  comme  quelques  autres  Imitateurs  ont  erige  depuis 
peu  a  Paris  un  Yaux-hall  et  comme  quelques  autres  se  sont  signales 
en  appelant  les  aloyaux  des  roast-beef  et  en  se  piquant  d'avoir  a  leur 
table  du  roast-beef  de  mouton." 


384  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

and  the  people  stirred  up,  killed  King  Gorboduc  ;  so 
that,  at  the  end,  no  one  was  left."  Living  in  such  an 
age,  what  could  Shakespeare  do  ?  He  did  "  Hamlet." 
"  Some  of  you,  gentlemen,  are  aware  that  there  exists 
a  tragedy  by  Shakespeare  called  '  Hamlet.'  '  A  few 
heads,  doubtless,  bowed  at  this  passage  in  sign  of  assent. 
The  play  swarms  with  anachronisms  and  absurdities  ; 
the  burial  of  Ophelia  is  seen  on  the  stage,  a  sight  so  mon- 
strous that  "  the  celebrated  Garrick  has  lately  suppressed, 
at  his  theatre,  the  scene  of  the  grave-diggers."  But  the 
translator  "sides  with  the  grave-diggers."  The  play 
is  full  of  abominable-vulgarities,  and  from  the  very 
beginning.  The  sentry  in  the  first  scene  declares  : 
"Je  n'ai  pas  entendu  une  souris  trotter"  (not  a  mouse 
stirring).  Can  such  incongruities  be  allowed  ?  Doubt- 
less, "  a  soldier  may  speak  thus  in  a  guard-house  ;  but 
not  on  the  stage,  before  the  first  persons  of  the  nation 
who  express  themselves  with  nobleness  and  before 
whom  he  must  express  himself  in  the  same  manner." 
But  my  soldiers,  Shakespeare  might  have  replied,  talk 
among  themselves  and  are  not  addressing  Louis 
Quatorze.     No  matter. 

No  observance  of  rules  in  Shakespeare,  continued 
d'Alembert,  reading,  no  decency  ;  a  few  merits  however  : 
"  Truth,  which  cannot  be  disguised  before  you,  compels 
me  to  confess  that  this  Shakespeare,  so  savage,  so  low, 
so  unbridled  and  so  absurd,  had  sparks  of  genius." 
Sentence  must  nevertheless  be  passed  against  him  : 
"  Picture  to  yourselves,  gentlemen,  Louis  XIV.,  in  his 
gallery  of  Versailles,  surrounded  by  his  brilliant  court  ; 
a  '  Gille '  in  tatters,  pushes  his  way  through  the  crowd  I 
of  heroes,  great  men  and  beauties  who  compose  that  j 


VOLTAIRE    AT    FERXEY,    IJJJ.    FOUR    MONTHS    BEFORE    HIS 
LAST   JOURNEY    TO    PARIS. 

From  life.  [p.  385. 

26 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  387 

court  ;  he  proposes  to  them  to  leave  Corneille,  Racine, 
and  Moliere  for  a  mountebank  who  has  happy  flashes 
and  can  make  contortions.  How,  think  you,  would  he 
be  received  ?  " 

He  was  very  badly  received  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  and  Voltaire's  triumph  was  complete.  "  M. 
le  Marquis  de  Villevieille  must  have  started  early 
yesterday  morning,  my  dear  master,  for  Ferney,"  wrote 
d'Alembert  at  once  to  the  hero  of  the  day  ;  "  he  meant 
to  drive  a  few  post-horses  to  death,  so  as  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  being  the  first  to  give  you  an  account  of 
your  success.  It  has  been  such  as  you  could  desire. 
Your  reflections  gave  great  pleasure,  and  were  much 
applauded.  The  quotations  from  Shakespeare  .  .  . 
King  Gorboduc,  &c,  highly  diverted  the  assembly. 
Several  parts  I  was  made  to  repeat.  I  need  not  tell 
you  that  the  English  who  were  there  went  away  dis- 
pleased. ...  I  read  you  with  all  the  interest  of  friend- 
ship and  all  the  zeal  inspired  by  a  good  cause." 

The  protests  of  a  sturdy  boy  of  twelve,  had,  how- 
ever, very  nearly  interrupted  the  proceedings  :  "  There 
was  in  the  assembly,"  wrote  La  Harpe  to  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Russia,  "  an  English  youth  of  ten  or  twelve, 
brought  up  in  the  worship  ot  Shakespeare,  as  every 
good  Englishman  is.  He  boiled  with  rage  at  M.  de 
Voltaire's  sarcasms  and  at  the  laughter  of  the  assembly. 
He  asked  those  who  were  in  his  company  for  a  whistle  : 
'I  want  to  hiss  that  Voltaire!'  he  repeated."1  He 
was  with  great  difficulty  kept  quiet. 

Success,  however,  failed  to  unbend  Voltaire.  He 
remained  unrelenting  to  the  day  of  his  death  ;   it  was 

1  "  Correspondancc,"  1801,  i..  53. 


388  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

his  war  ;  he  had  some  vague  apprehension  of  an  offen- 
sive campaign  from  the  enemy.  Far  from  going  to 
sleep  on  his  laurels,  he  began  at  once  to  prepare  new 
engines,  "  a  second  letter  more  interesting  than  the 
first "  (October  7th).  The  publishing  of  the  former 
had  not  been  such  an  easy  matter  as  he  expected  : 
"  Moureau,  to  whom  I  gave  your  Letter  to  the 
Academy,  as  you  had  commissioned  me  to  do,"  wrote 
d'Alembert,  "  printed  it  at  once,  never  doubting  that 
permission  to  sell  it  would  be  granted  him.  M.  le 
garde  des  Sceaux  has  refused  that  permission.  .  .  . 
They  say  that  the  godly  people  at  Versailles  have  per- 
suaded [the  king]  that  your  essay  on  Shakespeare  was 
injurious  to  religion,  although  at  the  public  reading  all 
the  indecent  passages  from  the  English  dramatist  had 
been  carefully  omitted."  Keen  was  the  disappointment 
of  Voltaire,  though  long  since  accustomed  to  such  mis- 
haps :  "  Poor  old  Raton,  the  miserable  Raton,"  he 
answered,  assuming  the  name  of  the  cat  in  La  Fon- 
taine's fable,  "  is  quite  bewildered  to  have  burnt  for 
once  his  paws  when  he  was  acting  so  honestly." 
"  Bertrand  (the  monkey)  must  a  little  reassure  Raton, 
who  will  not  be  absolutely  burnt,"  replied  d'Alembert, 
"  but  only  hanged  by  the  mercy  of  the  court.  The 
prohibition  from  saying  anything  against  the  English 
drama  and  Shakespeare  has  apparently  been  revoked, 
for  I  saw,  a  few  days  ago,  the  letter  exposed  for  sale  at 
the  Tuileries." 

But  sadness  had  invaded  Raton,  and  he  refused  to  be 
comforted.  Carrying  on  his  epistolary  conversation 
with  d'Alembert,  he  wrote  to  him  on  October  22, 
1776  :  "  You  know  that  Doctor  Franklin's  troops  have 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  391 

been  beaten  by  the  King  of  England's.  Alas  !  the 
philosophers  are  beaten  everywhere.  Reason  and 
Liberty  are  ill  received  in  this  world."  D'Alembert 
replied  :  "  Sad  Bertrand  to  lean  Raton,  greetings. 
Raton,  lean  though  he  be,  will  do  very  well  in  con- 
tinuing to  scratch  Gille-Shakespeare.  .  .  .  Philosophy 
and  Reason  must  at  least  have  the  upper  hand  in  their 
little  realm  since  they  are  beaten  at  '  la  Nouvelle 
Yorck.'  '  (General  Howe  had  entered  New  York, 
on  the  15th  of  September,  1776.) 

Voltaire  prepared,  therefore,  without  delay,  the 
second  campaign,  which  he  regarded  as  indispensable, 
for  the  monster  had  not  disarmed  any  more  than  he. 
"  I  succomb  under  the  weight  of  my  woes,"  wrote  the 
octogenarian  to  Madame  de  Saint-Julien,  "  I  am  crushed 
by  my  enemies,  by  the  factious  abettors  of  Shake- 
speare." 

On    the    10th    of    February,    1778,    Voltaire,    aged 
eighty-four,    re-entered    Paris   for    his    last    triumphs. 
He    remained    firm     and    immovable    in     his    literaryi 
beliefs  ;  his  faith  had  not  deserted  him  ;   the  apostle  ofl 
every  liberty,  he   continued   to  make  an  exception  fori 
tragedy   alone,    and   the    French   comedians   were  pre-  \ 
paring  the  performance  of  "  Irene,"   his   last  work,  a 
play  according  to  rules,  in   which   the  heroine  relates 
her  troubles  to  Zoe,  her  confidante,  and  instead  of  using 
such  a  vulgar  word  as  "  husband,"  prefers  to  say  :    "  a 
worthy  mortal,  one  to  whom  I  plighted  my  troth  "  — 

"  Un  mortel  respectable,  et  qui  re^ut  ma  foi." 

This  visit  was  one  long  fete.  When  Voltaire  came  to 
the  performance  of  "  Irene,"  on  the  30th  of  March,  the 


392  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

crowd  rushed  towards  him,  opened  the  door  of  his  coach  ; 
those  nearest  "  stretched  forth  their  arms,  seized  that 
dear  idol,  and  without  giving  him  time  to  take  breath, 
raised  him  up  and  carried  him  to  the  stairway."  He 
appeared  in  his  box,  and  bursts  of  applause  broke 
forth;  he  m  bowed  right  and  left;  Brizard,  the  actor, 
seized  this  favourable  moment,  entered  suddenly,  placed 
a  crown  of  laurel  on  his  head,"  and  the  applause  re- 
doubled. After  the  play,  the  curtain  rose  again  ;  "  the 
bust  of  M.  de  Voltaire  was  seen,  placed  in  the  centre  of 
the  stage,  surrounded  with  all  the  actors  and  actresses 
in  gala  dress,  all  holding  laurel  wreaths  in  their  hands," 
which  they  placed,  "each  in  turn,  upon  the  bust  of  that 
immortal  poet."  l  A  soubrette  "  even  went  so  far," 
relates  Mercier,  "  as  to  caress  and  stroke  with  her  hand 
this  triumphant  bust."  The  Sieur  Moreau  le  Jeune 
was  present,  and  on  going  home  that  same  evening, 
made  "  a  perfect  drawing  "  which  represented  this 
apotheosis,  and  has  been  engraved. 

But  the  triumpher  did  not  forget  his  quarrel  ;  he 
dedicated  his  tragedy  to  the  French  Academy,  and 
took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  make  a  last  inroad 
into   the  enemy's  territory.      "  Irene,"    he   said  in   his 

1  Dc  Mouhy,  "  Abrege  de  l'histoire  du  Theatre  Francais,"  1780, 
vol.  iii.,  pp.  96,  ff.  Palissot  had  composed  for  this  solemnity  an 
a  propos  in  prose  :  "  Le  Triomphe  de  Sophocle  "  ;  but  the 
comedians  pretended  they  had  not  time  enough  to  learn  it  :  the 
reason  invoked  does  honour  to  their  politeness  and  the  refusal  to 
their  good  taste.  The  comedy  was  not  performed,  and  Palissot 
published  it  (Paris,  1778,  8°)  with  a  preface  full  of  rapturous  praise 
of  Voltaire  and  the  king.  The  first  performance  of  "  Irene  "  had 
taken  place  on  the  1 6th  of  March  ;  Queen  Marie  Antoinette  was 
present,  but  Voltaire  was  not,  being  then  ill  in  bed. 


*■       /■       ^ 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  395 

new  letter  to  his  colleagues,  has  only  one  merit  ;  it  is 
according  to  rules  :  "  I  feel  how  unseemly  it  is,  at  my 
age  of  eighty-four  years,  to  dare  arrest  for  a  moment 
your  looks  upon  the  degenerate  fruits  of  my  latter  days. 
The  tragedy  of  '  Irene  '  cannot  be  worthy  of  you  or  of 
the  '  Theatre  Francois,'  it  has  no  merit  save  fidelity  to 
the  rules  given  to  the  Greeks  by  the  worthy  preceptor 
of  Alexander."  Thereupon  he  reopened  the  discussion 
and  began  war  afresh,  making  the  Academy  take  part 
in  it  :  "  You  enlightened  my  doubts  and  you  confirmed 
my  opinion,  two  years  ago,  by  consenting  to  hear,  in 
one  of  your  public  meetings,  the  letter  I  had  had  the 
honour  to  write  you  on  Corneille  and  on  Shakespeare. 
I  blush  to  join  these  two  names  together,  but  I  hear 
that  this  incredible  dispute  is  being  renewed  in  the 
midst  of  Paris.  .  .  ."  Many  answers  and  counterblasts 
to  Voltaire's  first  essay  had  in  fact  appeared  ;  the 
gazettes  had  taken  sides,  and  the  "  Annee  Litteraire  " 
in  particular  had  not  missed  so  good  an  opportunity  for 
making  fun  of  its  old  enemy.'  Voltaire  concluded  as 
he  had  formerly  :  "  Shakespeare  is  a  savage  with  sparks 
of  genius  which  shine  in  a  horrible  night."  This  letter 
was  read  at  the  Academy  on  the  19th  of  March,  and 
was  "  accepted  with  gratitude.  M.  Je  Directeur  left  at 
the  end  of  the   sitting   to   go  and   compliment   M.   de 


1  It  gave  its  own  account  of  how  Voltaire's  fury  rose.  The 
translators  of  Shakespeare  in  their  long  preface  had  had  "  l'impru- 
dence  et  l'impolitesse  de  ne  pas  dire  unseul  mot  a  la  louange  de  M. 
de  Voltaire.  L'exemplaire  destine  pour  Ferney  se  presente  sans  ce 
passeport  litteraire.  On  l'accueille  fort  mal  ;  le  maitre  du  chateau 
s'emporte,  sonne  tin  de  ses  secretaires,  et  dicte  sur-le-champ  sa 
diatribe  a  1'Academie."     ("L' Annee  Litteraire,"  1776,  vol.  vi.) 


396  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Voltaire  on  his  success,  and  to  return  to  him  his  dedi- 
catory epistle,  read  and  approved  by  the  company." 
At  the  Academy  as  at  the  theatre,  exceptional  honours 
were  awarded  him.  He  attended  the  seance  of  the 
30th  of  March  :  "  M.  le  Directeur  and  all  the  acade- 
micians who  were  present  went  as  far  as  the  first  room 
to  meet  him.  He  entered  the  assembly  hall,  and  M.  le 
Directeur  invited  him  to  sit  at  the  head  of  them  all." 
The  same  ceremony  was  observed  at  his  departure  ;  he 
was  escorted  to  the  door  of  the  first  room,  "  the 
Academy  being  persuaded  that  honours  rendered  to  a 
man  of  his  age  and  celebrity  could  not  be  invoked  in 
any  other  case."  A  few  days  afterwards  the  Academy 
unanimously  decided  "  that  every  time  M.  de  Voltaire 
came  to  the  sitting  after  the  hour  had  struck,  he  should 
nevertheless  have  his  presence  fee,  and  that  the  acade- 
micians who  arrived  before  him  should  enjoy  the  same 
privilege,  but  not  those  who  arrived  after  him."  He 
was  indeed  considered  as  a  man  above  men,  and  treated 
as  a  "dear  idol."  The  "unhappy  Raton"  could  at 
last  forget  his  sorrows  ;  he  too  had  had  his  jubilee,  and 
he  had  had  it  during  his  lifetime. 

His  vivacity,  his  readiness  of  pen  and  of  speech,  his 
astonishing  quickness,  remained  unimpaired.  The  poet 
Saint-Marc  had  rhymed  the  compliment  delivered  at  the 
theatre  the  night  of  the  apotheosis  ;  Voltaire  would  not 
be  outdone  by  him  ;  ill  and  almost  dying,  he  found 
means  to  reply  : — 

"  Vous  daigncz  couronncr,  aux  jeux  de  Melpomene, 
D'un  vieillard  affaibli  les  efforts  impuissants. 
Ces  lauriers  dont  vos  mains  couvrcnt  mes  chevcux  blancs 

Etaicnt  nes  sur  votre  domaine. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  397 

On  sait  que  de  son  bien  tout  mortel  est  jaloux  ; 
Chacun  garde  pour  soi  ce  que  le  ciel  lui  donne  ; 

Le  Parnasse  n'a  vu  que  vous 

Oui  sut  partager  sa  couronne."  ' 

His  spirit  of  enterprise  remained  likewise  the  same 
as  ever  ;  he  continued  the  Voltaire  of  old  times  who 
would  have  liked  "  to  remake  the  universe,  and  to 
remake  it  in  less  than  a  week."  He  had  barely  one 
month  left  to  live  :  he  had  immense  plans.  He  pro- 
posed to  the  Academy  to  remodel,  if  not  exactly  the 
universe,  at  least  the  French  language,  to  emancipate  it, 
to  return  to  the  freedom  of  the  independents  ot  vore.  The 
dictionary  of  the  Academy,  compiled  in  an  aristocratic 
and  disdainful  spirit,  excluding  from  the  literary  realm 
innumerable  families  of  plebeian  words,  was  no  longer 
sufficient  ;  a  new  one  was  needed  which  should  be 
based  on  quite  opposite  principles,  and  should  con- 
tain "all  the  picturesque  and  energetic  expressions 
of  Montaigne,  Amvot,  Charron,  &c,  which  it  is 
desirable  to  revive,  and  which  our  neighbours  have 
turned  to  their  own  use." 2  Voltaire's  proposal  was 
accepted  on  the  7th  of  May  ;  he  died  on  the  30th. 
Up  to  the  last  it  was  really  and  truly  to  tragedy  alone 
that  he  had  refused  freedom. 

IV. 

War  had  not  come  to  an  end.  In  a  moment  of 
optimism,  in  August,  i~~6,  Voltaire  had  said  of  Le 
Tourneur  :   "  All  honest  folks  are  irritated  against  that 

1  "Journal  politique  et  litteraire"  (of  Linguet,  continued,  after 
1776,  by  La  Harpe),  April  15,  i~~S. 

2  "  Registres  de  l'Academie,"  vol.  Hi.,  p.  +32. 


398  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

man;  several  have  withdrawn  their  subscriptions."  But 
the  event  had  not  justified  Voltaire's  anticipations. 
The  third  volume  of  the  translation  came  out  in  1778  ; 
it  contained  the  names  of  one  hundred  and  forty-nine 
new  subscribers,  such  as  the  Duchesse  de  Boufflers,  M. 
Boissy  D'Anglas,,  the  "  Marquise  du  Defiant,  a  Saint- 
Joseph,  rue  Saint-Dominique,"  the  Princesse  de  Ligne, 
Preville  the  actor,  Suard  of  the  Academy,  &c.  In 
the  fifth  volume,  published  in  1779,  another  new  list 
was  appended,  with  the  Due  d'Aumont,  Madame 
Necker,  and,  who  would  have  thought  it  ?  the  great, 
the  faithful  friend,  whose  tragedies  Voltaire  used  to 
correct,  "  M.  Tronchin,  ancien  Conseiller  a  Geneve," 
who,  in  his  turn,  was  deserting  and  going  over  to  the 
enemy.  Truly  the  "  abomination  ot  desolation  "  was 
in  the  temple  of  the  Lord.  "  The  translation  of 
Shakespeare's  plays  by  M.  Le  Tourneur  is  in  every- 
body's hands,"  said  Ducis  a  little  later  ;  while  Sedaine 
went  into  ecstasies  over  it,  and  talked  Shakespeare  to 
every  one  he  met.  "  Baron  de  Grimm,  who  was  one 
day  a  witness  of  his  enthusiasm,  said  to  him  aptly 
enough  :  '  Your  transports  do  not  surprise  me,  you  feel 
the  happiness  of  a  son  who  finds  a  father  whom  he  has 
never  seen.'  "  '      The  translation  was  destined  to  enjoy 

1  Life  of  Sedaine  by  Auger,  prefacing  the  "  CEuvrcs  Choisies," 
18 1 3,  3  vols.,  120.  The  gazettes  had  devoted  to  Le  Tourncur's 
undertaking  long  and  numerous  articles,  and  had  helped  to  make  an 
event  of  it.  The  "Annee  Litterairc,"  the  property,  from  March,  I  776, 
of  Freron,  the  son,  had  published  on  each  play  studies,  which  offered 
the  amusing  peculiarity  of  concluding  almost  in  the  same  words  as 
Voltaire,  but  Voltaire  in  his  first  manner.  The  obstinate  opposi- 
tion of  the  English  to  the  unities,  considered  by  them  as  "  lois 
arbitraires  ct   despotiques  auxquelles   tin    fier  republicain    n'est    pas 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  399 

the  most  lasting  success  ;  remodelled  by  Guizot,  it  is  in 
current  use  to  this  day. 

The  "  factious  abettors  of  Shakespeare  "  had  not  dis- 
armed. Voltaire's  letter  had  made  a  great  noise  in 
England  as  well  as  in  France  ;  replies  to  it  were 
written,  before  and  after  his  death,  in  several  languages 
and  by  people  of  every  country.  The  essay  composed 
in  former  years  by  "  cette  Montagu  la  Shake- 
spearienne,"  as  Voltaire  called  her,  was  translated  into 
French,  and  La  Harpe  undertook  to  answer  it.1      The 

oblige  de  se  soumettre,"  was  protested  against  ;  but  the  conclusion 
was  :  "Les  ouvrages  du  genie  ressemblent  a  ceux  de  la  nature  qui  n'a 
point  dans  ses  travaux  la  froide  regularite  des  productions  de  l'art  " 
(1776,  vol.  i.,  p.  31).  Voltaire  had  said  the  same;  see  above,  p.  209. 
Great  praise  was  bestowed  upon  Le  Tourneur  in  the  "Journal 
Anglais,"  the  "Journal  Francais,  Italien  et  Anglais,"  &c.  In  this 
last  paper,  Mercier  (who  buries  Shakespeare  in  Westminster, 
"  where  royal  dust  mingles  with  that  of  great  men  "),  is  very  hard 
upon  Voltaire,  who  has  represented  the  English  dramatist  "as  little 
superior  to  an  intoxicated  savage"  from  jealousy  of  his  "towering 
genius,"  August,  1777. 

1  "  Apologie  de  Shakespeare,  en  reponse  a  la  critique  de  M.  de 
Voltaire,  traduite  de  l'Anglois  de  Madame  de  Montagu,"  London 
and  Paris,  1777,  8°.  Voltaire  warmed  La  Harpe's  zeal  :  "J'attends 
avec  impatience  la  suite  de  votre  reponse  a  cette  Montagu  la 
Shakespearienne  "  (January  14,  1778).  From  the  first  Garrick  had 
written  to  Madame  Necker:  "I  have  no  room  left  for  Voltaire  and 
Shakespeare.  There  are  rods  preparing  for  the  old  gentleman  by 
several  English  wits"  (November  10,  1776).  In  1785  appeared 
in  French:  "Dramaturgic  ou  observations  sur  plusieurs  pieces  de 
theatre  .  .  .  ouvrage  interessant,  traduit  de  l'allemand  de  feu  M. 
Lessing,  par  un  Francois,  revu  par  M.  Junker,"  Paris,  2  vols.,  8°. 
The  essays  thus  offered  to  the  French  public  had  originally  appeared 
some  eighteen  years  before  ;  they  furnished  more  fuel  to  the  Vol- 
taire-Shakespeare quarrel,  the  latter  being  one  of  Lessing's  literary 
gods. 


400  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

"  Chevalier  Rutlidge,"  '  addressed  some  "  Observations 
a  Messieurs  de  FAcademie  Franchise,"  in  which  he 
spoke  in  favour  of  Shakespeare  against  Voltaire  and 
the  unities  :  "  If  the  violation  of  the  three  unities  which 
Shakespeare  was  guilty  of  has  not  destroyed  theatrical 
illusion,  it  shows  that  the  laws  laid  down  by  Aristotle 
and  his  adherents  are  neither  the  great  nor  the  indis- 
pensable laws  of  good  sense."  Joseph  Baretti,  an 
Italian  living  in  London,  "  Secretaire  pour  la  Corres- 
pondance  etrangere  de  l'Academie  Royale  Britannique," 
and  to  whom  we  owe  some  curious  relations  of  journeys, 
wrote  in  1777  a  "  Discours  sur  Shakespeare  et  sur 
Monsieur  de  Voltaire,"  in  which  he  alleges  that 
Voltaire  did  not  know  English,  that  his  letters  in 
English  are  not  by  him,  and  that,  in  spite  of  his 
classical  theories,  he  could  but  corrupt  the  taste  of  the 
young  generation  :  "  Woe  to  the  young  men  who 
shall  have  read  Monsieur  de  Voltaire's  works  before 
having  read  Homer,  Virgil,  and  the  others  whom  we 
call  classic  authors.     Woe  !  Woe  !  "  2 

1  James  Rutlcdgc,  son  of  a  shipowner  of  Dunkirk,  upon  whom 
the  Pretender  had  conferred  a  baronetcy.  He  had  just  published 
an  "Essai  sur  lc  Caractere  des  Francais  "  (London,  1776),  not 
over-indulgent  to  the  French,  but  in  which  he  happened  to  have 
loudly  praised  Voltaire. 

2  All  these  replies  gave  rise  to  new  discussions  in  the  literary 
newspapers.  Thus  Baretti's  essay  was  reviewed  in  the  "Journal 
Francais,  Italien  et  Anglais"  (August,  1777),  Rutledge's  and  Mrs. 
Montagu's  in  the  "Journal  Francais "  of  Palissot  and  Clement 
(March  and  December,  1777),  who,  in  their  enthusiasm  for  the 
Greek  ideal,  ended  thus  :  "11  suffirait,  pour  terminer  ce  proccs 
litteraire  .  .  .  d'examiner  lequcl  des  deux  peuples  a  su  le  micux 
plier  son  gout  national  au  gout  de  l'antiquite,  sur  lequcl  il  n'est  pas 
de  nation   lettree  qui  n'ait   forme,  lc  sien."      La  Harpc,  as  a   friend 


"THE   MODERN-   EROSTRATES   WRITING   ABOUT   ART.' 

A  caricature  of  Scbastien  Mercier. 


>.  401. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.    PART  II         403 

Mercier,  the  defender  of  prose  and  of  Shakespearean 
drama,  took  up  his  pen  again  and  reiterated  his 
blasphemies.  In  a  new  essay  :  "  De  la  Litterature 
et  des  Litterateurs,  suivi  d'un  nouvel  examen  de  la 
tragedie  Francaise,"  1778,  he  scoffed  at  the  unities,  at. 
confidants  and  at  antique  tragedy  :  "  There  are  things 
which  time  has  changed. — I  have  copied  the  ancients, 
some  poet  will  say. — Well,  then,  my  friend,  may  they 
read  you  !  "  We  must  enlarge  our  stage,  "  which  is\ 
only  a  parlour,"  get  rid  of  the  twenty-four  hours  to\ 
which  we  owe  so  many  absurdities,  and  observe  nature  \ 
and  not  the  Romans  :  "While  a  thousand  different' 
characters  surround  us,  with  their  striking  features, 
inviting  the  warmth  of  our  pencil  and  a  truthful  render- 
ing, should  we  blindly  turn  away  from  a  living  nature 
whose  every  muscle  is  discernible,  full  of  life  and 
expression,  to  go  and  draw  a  Greek  or  Roman  corpse,  j 
colour  its  livid  cheeks,  clothe  its  cold  limbs,  raise  it 
staggering  on  its  feet,  and  give  to  that  glazed  eye,  that 
frozen  tongue  and  stiffened  arm,  the  look,  speech,  and 
gesture  customary  on  our  boards  ?  What  an  abuse  of 
the  dummy  !  "  l  He  defended  himself  on  the  ground 
of  patriotism  where  Voltaire  had  insidiously  led  the 
quarrel  :  "  Some  have  gone  so  far  as  to  say  that  those 
who  admired  Milton  and  Shakespeare  were  bad  citizens, 
enemies  of  the  nation,  detractors  of  France.  .  .  .  When 
there  are  no  good  reasons  to  give,  puerile  extravagances 
are    put   forward.     Need    we   say    that    to    fight    well 

of  Voltaire,  had  little  praise  for  Baretti,  "  une  espece  de  fou  nomme 
Baretti,"    and   for  his    "  brochure   ecrite   a   faire    poufFer    de    rire." 
("  Correspondance  adressee  au   Grand  Due,"  ii.  179.) 
1   "Tableau  de  Paris,"  ch.  333. 


404  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

against  a  nation  it  is  not  necessary  to  combat  Addison, 
Pope,  and  Milton  ?  "  It  was  the  time  of  the  American 
War  of  Independence,  and  the  United  States  had  just 
been  recognized  by  France.  The  enthusiasm  was  great  ; 
Mercier  tried  to  show  that  it  was  a  possible  thing  to 
share  it,  and  yet  admire  Shakespeare  :  "  Perhaps  it  is 
in  America  that  the  human  race  will  transform  itself, 
adopt  a  new  and  sublime  religion,  improve  sciences  and 
arts,  and  become  the  representative  of  the  ancient 
nations.  Haven  of  liberty,  Grecian  souls,  every  strong 
and  generous  soul  will  develop  or  meet  there,  and 
this  great  example  given  to  the  universe  will  show  what 
men  can  do  when  they  are  of  one  mind  and  combine 
their  lights  and  their  courage."  '  Chastellux,  another 
Shakespearian,  replied  still  better  to  adverse  critics  by 
taking  part  in  the  War  of  Independence  as  Major- 
General   in   the  army  of  Rochambeau. 

Up  to,  and  even  after,  the  Revolution,  the  skirmishes 
continued  ;  but  Voltaire  was  dead,  and  it  was  no  longer 
real  war.  La  Harpe,  Marmontel,  the  literary  gazetteers, 
approved,  blamed,  weighed  their  words  : — 

"  Sans  vouloir  fairc  cas  ni  dcs  ha  !    ni  dcs  ho  !  " 

Deeply  penetrated  with  the  importance  of  the  part  they 
played  and  of  the  sentences  they  passed,  they  sat  as  in 

1  "C'est  peut-etre  en  Amerique  que  le  genre  humain  va  se 
rcfondre,  qu'il  doit  adopter  line  religion  neuve  et  sublime,  qu'il 
va  pcrfcctionncr  les  sciences  ct  les  arts  et  rcprescnter  les  anciens 
peuples.  Asile  de  la  liberte,  les  ames  de  la  Grece,  les  ames 
rbrtes  et  gendrcuses  ycroitront  ou  s'y  rendront,  et  ce  grand  cxemple 
donnc  a  l'univcrs  prouvera  cc  que  pcut  l'hommc  quand  il  met 
en  commun  son  courage  et  scs  lumieres."  ("  De  la  Litteraturc, 
Yverdon,   1 778,   pp.    19,    139.) 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTCRY.     PART  II  405 

a  congress,  and  negotiated  impossible  agreements  about 
this  disconcerting  lusus  nature.1  Some  few  made 
audacious  raids,  like  Rivarol,  who  attacks  the  old 
independents,  French  or  English,  and  treats  them  most 
cavalierly  :  Chaucer  "  deserved,  about  the  middle  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  to  be  called  the  English  Homer  ; 
our  Ronsard  merited  the  same  compliment,  and  Chaucer, 
as  obscure  as  he,  was  even  less  known."  So  many 
words,  so  many  mistakes.  As  for  Shakespeare,  he  has 
become,  but  only  at  a  recent  date,  "  the  idol  of  his  nation 
and  the  scandal  of  our  literature."  2  Mere  skirmishes 
still  ;  real  war  will  only  break  out  again  later,  at  the 
moment  of  the  romantic  melee,  in  1830. 

V. 

Shakespeare,  translated  by  Le  Tourneur,  had  been 
winning  his  way  into  libraries  and  drawing-rooms,  but 
not  into  theatres.  A  mere  translator  could  not  secure 
for  him  admittance  to  the  play-house.  Efforts  were 
being  made,  however,  to  adapt  him  to  the  tastes  of  the 
day  and  to  render  him  acceptable  to  a  Parisian  audience. 
Blamed,  praised,  discussed,  he  was  now  known  of  all  ; 

1  La  Harpe  does  so  in  his  "  Cours  de  Litterature  "  (1st  ed., 
!799):  "  S'il  eut  connu  [les  regies]  d'Aristote  comme  notre 
Corneille,  s'il  eut  suivi  l'exemple  des  Grecs  comme  notre  Racine, 
je  ne  suis  pas  sur  qu'il  les  eut  egales  (car  cela  depend  du  plus  ou 
moins  de  genie),  mais  je  suis  sur  qu'il  aurait  fait  de  meilleures 
pieces."  He  gives  vent  more  freely  to  his  opinions,  and  is  far  more 
severe  in  his  "  Correspondance  adressee  au  Grand  Due,"  1801,  letters 
43»  5'»  53^76,  151,  &c. 

2  "  Dc  l'Universalite  de  la  Langue  Francaise,  sujet  propose  par 
l'Academie  de  Berlin  en  1783."  "  CEuvres,'"  Paris,  1808,  5  vols., 
8°,  vol.  ii. 


4o5  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

but  to  make  him  sufferable  on  the  stage  was  no  slight 
matter,  and  great  precautions  were  necessary. 

Many  authors  tried,  in  the  second  half  or"  the 
eighteenth  century  ;  they  all  surprised  the  public  then 
by  their  rashness,  and  surprise  us  now  by  their  timidity. 
Licences  are  considerably  easier  when  it  is  a  question  of 
plays  to  be  read  in  an  arm-chair  than  when  it  is  one  of 
dramas  to  be  performed  on  the  stage.  Le  Tourneur 
had  secured  numerous  partisans  without  any  trouble  ; 
the  adapters  for  the  play-house  found  a  less  accommo- 
dating public.  In  spite  of  recent  experiments,  the 
majority  continued  in  favour  of  the  unities,  and  the  rules 
still  seemed  to  the  mass  of  spectators  as  necessary  for 
a  tragedy  as  for  a  sonnet.  Regular  tragedies  were 
still  the  fashion  ;  a  traveller  like  Sterne  was  struck  by 
their  popularity,  and  he  admired  them  as  heartily  as 
any  one  in  Paris,  but  from  different  motives  :  "  They 
are  absolutely  fine  ; — and  whenever  I  have  a  more  bril- 
liant affair  upon  my  hands  than  common,  as  they  suit  a 
preacher  quite  as  well  as  a  hero,  I  generally  make  my 
sermon  out  of  'em  ;  and  for  the  text, — Cappadocia, 
Pontus  and  Asia,  Phrygia  and  Pamphylia — is  as  good 
as  any  one  in  the  Bible."  Even  in  a  comedy,  and  after 
all  the  domestic  dramas  that  had  been  represented, 
authors  ran  great  risks  in  venturing  out  of  the  beaten 
paths.  Saurin  shortened  Beverley's  speech  to  his 
son  because,  at  the  first  performance,  "several  per- 
sons had  been  revolted  by  it."  '  Desforges  suppressed 
the  Latin  quotations  of  the   pedantic  Partridge  because 

1  Speech  to  his  sleeping  son,  whom  he  intends  to  kill.  Saurin, 
in  printing  his  play,  gave  both  versions:  "  Voici,"  he  said,  "la 
premiere  lecon,  cpii  etait,  je  crois,  plus  theatrale,  mais  dont  plusieurs 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  407 

they  had  aroused  "violent  murmurs"  from  a  public, 
more  touchy,  it  would  seem,  than  the  audience  before 
whom  Moliere  represented  "Le  Medecin  malgre  lui."  l 
Lemierre,  in  1767,  did  not  yet  dare  to  make  William 
Tell  shoot  his  arrow  on  the  stage  ;  the  episode  was 
made  the  subject  of  a  narrative: — 

"  Dans  la  place  d'Akdorff,  pres  d'un  arbre  attache, 
Aux  veux  de  tout  un  peuple  interdit  et  touche,"  &c.2 

Only  later  a  different  version  was  introduced,  and  the 
spectator  could  see  the  thing  with  his  own  eyes  :  "  He 
shoots  his  arrow  kneeling,  strikes  down  the  apple,  rises 
and  falls  back  as  though  fainting  against  a  rock." 

Shakespeare's  adapters  were  constrained  to  use  great 
prudence  to  avoid  being  hissed  ;  even  with  all  their 
prudence  they  were  sometimes  hissed  all  the  same,  so 
great  are  the  differences  in  the  genius  of  the  two 
nations,  and  so  lacking  in  merit,  truth  to  say,  were 
most  of  these  innovators.  But  the  former  of  the  two 
reasons  was  the  only  one  that  struck  the  reformers. 

We  have  thus  a  queer  collection  of  Othellos, 
Romeos,  Richard  the  Thirds,  and  Hamlets,  each 
stranger  than  the  other,  bv  Chastellux,  Douin,  Butini, 
Mercier,  De   Rozoi,   Ducis,  and  anonymous  authors. 3 

personnes  ont  ete  revoltees,"  in  spite  of  the  enthusiasm  of  a  first 
performance  which  was  one  of  the  great  successes  of  the  day,  May 
7,  1768.      See  supra,  p.  320. 

1  "Tom  Jones  a  Londres,"  comedy  in  five  acts,  in  verse,  1782. 
"J'ai  retabli,  en  partie,  a  l'impression,  le  Latin  qui  avait  excite  de 
violents  murmures  a  la  premiere  representation." 

-  "  Guillaume  Tell,  tragedie,"  Neufchatel,  1767,  8°  ;  speech  of 
Fust  to  Cleofe,  wife  of  Tell,  iii.  2. 

3  A  (very  incomplete)  list  of  them  is  given  by  Thimm  :  "  Shake- 
speariana,"  2nd  ed.,  London,  1872,  p.  105. 


408  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

The  Chevalier,  afterwards  Marquis,  de  Chastellux,  of 
the  French  Academy,  colonel  at  twenty-one  of  the  regi- 
ment de  Chastellux,  a  brilliant  officer,  a  favourite  with 
every  one,  and  especially  with  the  beautiful  Marquise 
de  Gleon,  tried  to  win  the  "  salons "  over  to  Shake- 
speare. He  chose  with  this  view  Romeo,  whose  passion 
was  calculated  to  touch  the  female  heart  ;  but  he 
modified  the  plot  so  as  not  to  shock  his  audience  :  "  I 
have  arranged  Romeo  for  a  French  stage  ;  I  think  I 
have  produced  the  greatest  impression.  I  have  altered 
much  of  the  intrigue,  and  have  left  out  all  that  is 
comic  "  r — and  even  all  that  is  tragic,  for  the  Chevalier's 
play  ends  as  merrily  as  possible.  It  was  performed  at 
that  famous  Chateau  de  La  Chevrette,  in  the  valley  of 
Montmorency,  the  property  of  M.  and  Madame 
d'Epinay,  the  rendezvous  of  men  of  letters  and  of 
a  society  which  was,  says  Mademoiselle  d'Ette,  as  a  live 
novel,  "  comme  un  roman  mouvant."  The  financier 
Savalette,  uncle  to  the  Marquise  de  Gleon,  had  hired 
La  Chevrette  from  the  d'Epinays,  and  displayed  there 
his  magnificence.  Desirous,  like  the  wealthy  financier 
he  was,  of  following  the  fashion,  he  wanted  everything 
about  him  to  be  "  a  l'anglaise,"  whether  dramas  or 
gardens  ;  he  had  scarcely  settled  at  La  Chevrette  when 
he  hastened,  like  Saurin's  "  Anglomane,"  to  transform 
the  parterre  into  a  "  pare  a  l'anglaise."  M.  d'Epinay 
was  forced  to  acquiesce,  but  did  so  in  an  epistle  which 
showed  he  was  less  short  of  wit  than  of  money  : — 

"  Savalette  a  fort  bien  tourne 
Lc  pare  de  la  Chevrette, 

1    To  Garrick,  June  15,  1774. 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  409 

Mais  son  gout  anglais  a  coiffe 

Mon  parterre  en  vergette  (brush-like). 

En  fait  de  gout,  soit  mal,  soit  bien, 
Chacun  trouve  un  apotre  ; 

le  fais  un  tres  grand  cas  du  sien, 
Mais  j'aime  mieux  Le  Notre."  T 

On  the  stage  of  La  Chevrette,2  then,  which  had 
already  seen  such  actors  as  Rousseau  playing,  when  a 
debutant,  in  fone  of  his  own  plays,  3  not  to  mention 
Madame  d'Epinay  and  many  others,  Savalette  caused 
the  drama  "  a  l'anglaise  "  of  Chastellux  to  be  per- 
formed. It  was  a  literary  and  worldly  event  ;  people 
fought  for  invitations,  the  road  was  lined  with  coaches, 
all  Paris  flocked  to  La  Chevrette.  A  spectatress 
of  a  satirical  turn  of  mind,  but  no  bad  judge  in  such 
matters,  has  left  us  a  description  of  the  entertainment  : 
"  The  Chevalier  de  Chastellux  has  become  a  decided 
and  confirmed  author.  .  .  .  His  masterpiece,  if  you 
please,  is  '  Romeo  and  Juliet.'  The  whole  town  set 
out  to  see  this  pretended  imitation  of  Great  Britain's 
beloved  and  revered  poet.  I  followed  the  stream  with 
two  English  friends  of  mine."  As  the  performance 
went  on  a  growing  feeling  of  disappointment  was  felt  ; 
the  play   was    no   longer    either    English    or    French  : 

1  Perey  and  Maugras,  "  Dernieres  annees  de  Madame  d'Epinav," 
1883,  p.  309.  Needless  to  recall  how  famous  Le  Notre  was  as  a 
designer  of  gardens  in  the  French  style.     Cf.  above,  p.  152. 

2  La  Chevrette  has  been  destroyed  ;  only  the  stables  are  left 
(close  by  the  railwav  station  of  La  Barre-Ormesson).  Cabbages, 
turnips,  and  carrots  are  grown  where  the  ancient  gardens  were  laid  ; 
in  the  open  fields  some  sculptured  stones,  half-covered  with  grass, 
still  mark  the  place  where  the  ornamental  waters  used  to  be. 

3  "  L'Engagement  temeraire." 


410 


SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 


"  Wit  where  there  should  be  thoughts  .  .  .  the  last 
act  a  real  take  in.  Instead  of  amusing  themselves 
with  self-poisoning  and  stabbing,  Juliet  and  Romeo 
go  gaily  forth  from  the  abode  of  death  to  get  married 


no  one  knows  where,  to  live  together  no  one  knows 
how,  and  to  be  happy  in  any  way  it  may  please 
you  to  imagine.  People  look  at  each  other,  wonder 
what    has   become   of  that   terrible   catastrophe,  of  the 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  411 

pathos,  of  the  emotion  ;  the  curtain  falls  and  leaves  the 
astonished  spectator  to  wonder  as  much  as  he  likes."  l 

All  judges  were  not  so  severe,  and  the  performance 
bore  some  fruit.  Shortly  afterwards  we  find  the 
critic,  whose  opinion  Chastellux  cared  most  about, 
the  beautiful  and  learned  Marquise  de  Gleon,  deep  in 
the  study  of  Shakespeare,  "  working  by  herself  and 
consulting  the  most  lettered  English  she  could  find," 
sending  Garrick  the  note-book  in  which  she  had 
marked  the  difficult  passages  whose  real  meaning 
escaped  her  ;  and  finally  acting  the  part  of  Juliet  in 
society  theatres.2 

"  Othello,"  at  the  same  time,  was  put  on  the  rack  by 
another  officer  of  the  royal  armies,  "  M.  Douin,  capi- 
taine  d'infanterie."  "  This  play,"  he  says,  "  is  the 
masterpiece  of  the  great  Shakesp^ar,  and  only  the 
unities  of  place  and  time  are  wanting  to  make  it  as 
regular  as  any  of  the  Greek  and  French  tragedies.  .  .  . 
I  have  tried  to  bring  the  Moor  of  Venice  into  the  exact 
limits  of  these  two  unities."  The  original  contains 
scenes  of  low  comedy  :  "I  have  also  remedied,  as  far 
as  possible,  that  essential  fault."  This  done,  the 
captain  consulted  his  friends  with  regard  to  a  perform- 
ance. "  But  what  was  my  surprise  on  hearing  my 
modern  Aristarchs  declare  that  the  Moor  of  Venice 
could  not  decently  figure  on  the  French  stage."  The 
friends'    objections    were    remarkably  deep  :    Othello's 

1  Madame  Riccoboni  to  Garrick,  November  27,  1770.  See  also 
"  Correspondance  Litteraire  "  of  Grimm,  &c,  ed.  Tourneux,  vol.  x., 

P'31- 

2  Suard  explains  that  it  was  the  Juliet  ot  his  own  adaptation  of 

"Romeo."     To  Garrick,  May  18,  1774. 


4i2  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

skin  and  Iago's  soul  are  both  too  black  ;  "  the  French 
stage  does  not  admit  in  profane  tragedy  the  terms 
heaven,  angel,  devil,  or  Sovereign  Being  ;  one  should 
use  the  general  terms  of  the  gods  of  mythology." 
Douin  replies  very  gravely  on  each  point  and  appeals 
from  the  Aristarchs  to  the  public  :  "  If  this  play  is  to 
my  compatriots'  taste,  I  may  decide  to  employ  my 
leisure  in  giving  them  successively  the  whole  of  Shake- 
spear's  dramas,  reserving  to  myself  only  the  liberty  of 
cleansing  his  plays,  both  comic  and  tragic,  of  pruning 
them  of  their  superfluities,  and  of  reducing  them  to  the 
limits  of  the  three  unities."  A  slight  liberty.  He 
concludes  saying  :  "  As  1  shall  be  opening  for  myself 
a  new  path,  I  intend  to  give  even  those  of  Shakespear's 
plays  which  we  have  already.  .  .  .  Alexander  would 
have  no  other  painter  but  Apelles.  I  do  not  flatter 
myself  that  Shakespear  would  have  chosen  me  to  be 
his  interpreter,  but  I  have  done  my  best."  Whatever 
Shakespeare  might  have  thought  on  the  subject,  Douin's 
contemporaries  showed  no  enthusiasm,  and  our  captain 
was  not  encouraged  to  follow  to  the  end  the  new  path 
he  had  tried  to  open  for  himself.1 

Butini,  a  magistrate,  proceeds  no  less  cavalierly  than 
Captain  Douin  :  "  I  shall  not  waste  time  in  explanations 
upon  a  few  changes  indispensable  in  Shakespeare's  plays. 
Everybody  must  feel   that  it  was  necessary  to  whiten 

1   "  Lc  More  dc  Vcnisc,  tragedie  angloise,"  Paris,  1773  ;  in  verse.  . 
A  continual  effort   is  made  by  Douin  to  conciliate  the  tastes  of  the 
two  countries.       Desdemona   dies   on    the    stage,   but   stabbed,   not 
smothered  ;   Cassio   "  charge   Rodrigue  qui   tombc    dans   la   coulisse,     j 
mais  de  fti<;on  a   ctrc   vu."     The  scene   takes    place    in   Cyprus,  all    I 
the   previous  events  arc  made   the  subject  of  narratives. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         413 

Othello's  swarthy  face,  to  soften  the  ending,  suppress  a 
few  scenes,  simplify  the  action,  and  reduce  the  whole  to 
the  three  unities.  .  .  ."  All  this  is  evident.  Like 
Douin,  he  admits  the  murder  on  the  stage,  but  without 
going  so  far  as  strangulation  ;  Desdemona  does  not  die 
smothered,  Othello  stabs  her,  "  la  frappe."  Butini, 
too,  had  the  stage  in  mind  when  he  wrote  :  "  If  this 
piece  proves  to  be  not  displeasing  to  real  men  of  taste, 
that  is  to  say  to  the  friends  of  nature,  if  they  judge  it 
worthy  of  the  honour  of  being  performed,  the  glory 
of  this  will  be  due  chiefly  to  Shakespeare."  l 

With  the  comedies,  which  were  much  less  appre- 
ciated in  France,  authors  take  even  greater  liberties  ; 
the  most  popular  of  these,  "  The  Merry  Wives," 
was  remodelled  many  times  for  the  French  stage. 
La  Place  had  turned  it  into  a  three-act  play  with 
divertisements  and  "  intended  it  as  a  carnival  play 
for  the  Theatre  Franyais,"  but  a  friend  lost  his  manu- 
script.2 Another  author,  who,  like  Cubieres,  was 
destined  in    the   course  of  his   life  to  become  familiar 

1  "Othello,  dramc  en  cinq  actes  et  en  vers,  imite  de  Shake- 
speare, par  M.  Butini,  ancien  procureur  general  de  Geneve,"  1785, 
8°.  On  "  une  rhapsodie  de  Richard  III.,"  by  De  Rozoi,  1782, 
performed  at  the  Theatre  Francais,  "  au  grand  scandale  des  hon- 
netes  gens,  revokes  qu'une  farce  si  plate  et  si  barbare  fut  toleree," 
see  La  Harpe,  "  Correp.  adressee  au  Grand  Due,"  iii.,  251. 

2  "Collection  de  Romany"  Paris,  1788,  Preface  to  "Lydia," 
vol.  iv.,  p.  xiv.  The  "  Merchant  of  Venice  "  was  translated  into 
French  prose  :  "  Le  Marchand  de  Venise  comedie  traduite  de 
l'anglais  de  Sharkespeare,"  London  and  Paris,  1768,8°.  The  trans- 
lator declares  that  his  only  aim  has  been  accuracy  ;  he  is  even  afraid 
of  having  been  "  too  scrupulous,"  as  he  tried  to  render  the  very 
"  fautes  de  gout,"  as  "  rentrant  pour  beaucoup  dans  le  caractere 
original  de  Shakespeare." 


414  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

with  "  sombre  dramas  "  no  less  terrible  than  Shake- 
speare's, Collot  d'Herbois  to  wit,  published  in  1780,  at 
the  Hague,  an  "  Amant  loup-garou  ou  M.  Rodomont, 
piece  comique  en  quatre  actes  et  en  prose,  imitee  de 
l'anglais,  representee  au  theatre  du  Casuaristraat,"  a 
vulgar  farce,  with  a  few  comical  traits,  such  as  this 
remark  of  Rodomont's  :  "  The  surest  way  to  fear 
nothing  is  to  begin  by  frightening  others  ;  here  I  am, 
dressed  up  fit  to  make  the  devil  himself  turn  tail." 
Collot  presented  his  comedy  to  his  readers  as  a 
chastened  adaptation  from  Shakespeare  :  "  Shakespeare's 
play  entitled  '  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,'  is  a 
mine  of  comical  situations  ;  a  few  have  been  preserved 
here,  as  it  would  be  a  pity  if  they  were  entirely  lost  to 
our  stage.  Those  who  know  the  English  play  will 
understand  how  difficult  it  was  to  reduce  the  action  to 
a  simpler  plan."  l 

These  were  isolated  attempts.  An  effort  far  more 
sustained    was    made    by    Jean    Francois    Ducis,2    who 

1  "  CEuvres  do  theatre  de  M.  Collot  d'Herbois,"  the  Hague, 
1 78 1,  8°.  The  resemblances  which  have  been  pointed  out  between 
Shakespeare's  play  and  Barthe's  "  Fausses  Infidelites  "  (1768)  are 
insignificant.  The  "  Tempest "  was  transformed  into  a  pastoral 
play  by  Rochon  de  Chabannes,  music  by  Gossec  :  "Hilas  et  Silvie, 
jouc  par  les  comediens  ordinaires  du  Roi,"  December  10,  1769. 
"  Je  dois  a  Shakcspear  l'idec  de  mon  monstrc  et  malheureuscment 
ie  nc  lui  dois  que  ccla  :  lc  cclebre  Anglais,  dans  sa  tragedie  de  la 
'  Tcmpete,'  introduit  l'episode  d'un  certain  Prosper,  retire  dans 
unc  forct  avec  deux  filles  et  tin  gar^on  qu'il  a  constamment  tenus 
separcs  et  a  qui  il  a  inspire  unc  aversion  reciproque  "  ;  in  other 
words,  Chabannes  follows  unawares  Dryden  instead  of  Shakespeare. 

2  "CEuvres"  (and  "CEuvres  posthumes"),  Paris,  1827,  6  vols. 
120       "  Lettrcs,"  ed.   P.   Albert,   Paris,  1879,  8°.     Ducis  was  born 

in  Versailles  in  1733,  and  died  there  in  18  16 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         415 

throughout  his  life  took  Shakespeare  for  his  ideal,  and 
set  himself  the  task  of  acclimatizing  his  sombre  dramas 
on    the    French   stage,   beginning   with    "  Hamlet,"    in 
1769,  and  following  with  "  Romeo  "  in  1772,  "  Lear  " 
In   1783,  "Macbeth"  in  1784,    "  Jean-sans-Terre  "  in 
1791,  and  "Othello"  in  1792.     A  singular  being  was 
this  Ducis,  at  once  ridiculous  and  charming  :  in  reading 
his  terrible  plays  one  feels  irresistibly  inclined  to  laugh  ; 
in  reading  his  letters  one  envies  those  of  his  contem- 
poraries who  knew  him  and  who  counted  among  his 
friends.      His  sincerity   is  flawless  ;    his    ignorance   of 
English  is  absolute.     He  admires  Shakespeare  passion- 
ately,  and  labours    to   mutilate   his   plays  in   order  to 
increase   the   fame  of  the   great    man    and  induce    the 
French  public  to  appreciate  him.      By  an  irony  of  fate, 
at  the  very  time  when  Voltaire  was  leading  his  furious 
campaign,  Ducis's  adaptations  of  Shakespeare  were  about 
to  win  for  him  a  seat  in  that  Academy  which  Voltaire 
had  chosen  as  arbiter,  and  where  he  was  to  replace  Vol- 
taire himself.    This  was  one  of  Shakespeare's  revanches. 
Calm  and   tranquil   by  nature,  a  man  of   feeling,  as 
!  people   were   wont    to   be    in    those    times,  a  lover  of 
j  flowers,  springtide,   and    sunny    days,   he    deepens    the 
j  sombreness  of  his  model  when  transporting  his  dramas  on 
i  to  the  French  stage ;  he  adds  manifold  horrors  to  them, 
but  they  are  only  told  ;  they  are  heard  of  and  not  seen. 
;  Pacific  and  inoffensive,  he  resists  Bonaparte,  who  called 
;  him  familiarly  "  bonhomme  Ducis,"  invited  him  to  the 
Malmaison,    and,  supreme    flattery,    had    had    "  Mac- 
1  beth  "  performed  at  the  Theatre  Fran^ais.     Bonaparte 
'  offered,  relates  Campenon,  to  put  a  little  comfort  into 
his  life  :   "  'General,'  replied  M.  Ducis,  on  perceiving  a 


416  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

flight  of  wild  ducks  passing  through  a  cloud  above  his 
head,  '  you  are  fond  of  shooting.  Do  you  see  that 
flight  of  birds  cleaving  the  heavens  ?  There  is  not  one 
of  them  but  scents  from  afar  the  smell  of  powder  and 
feels  the  danger  of  the  sportsman's  gun.  I  am  one  of 
those  wild  birds.'  " 

He  chose  "  Hamlet,"  the  most  famous  of  his  master's 
plays,  for  his  first  endeavour.  He  entered  upon  this 
great  undertaking  in  an  almost  religious  spirit,  and 
with  the  sincerity  at  once  comical  and  touching  that 
he  carried  into  everything.  "  In  treating  this  character, 
I  have  regarded  myself  as  a  painter  of  sacred  subjects 
working  at  an  altar-piece.  But  why,  sir,  do  I  not 
know  your  language  ?  "  !  Being  unable  to  consult  the 
original,  he  wanted  at  least  to  have  the  portraits  of  the 
author  and  of  his  interpreter,  and  caused  a  mutual 
friend  to  write  to  Garrick,  begging  the  actor  "  to  send 
us  the  engraving  of  Shakespeare  and  that  of  your- 
self in  the  character  of  Hamlet.  My  friend  wants  to 
breathe  the  fire  of  the  dead  Shakespeare  and  of  the 
living  one  ;  but  he  conjures  you  to  send  the  best 
engravings  and  consequently  the  dearest  ;  he  is  rich, 
and  one  or  two  louis  more  or  less  are  nothing  to 
him."  2  Ducis  was  not  rich  at  all,  far  from  it,  but  he 
made  his  friend  pass  him  off*  as  wealthy  in  order  to 
be  the  more  sure,  in  his  religious  zeal,  of  obtaining  the 
best  copies  possible. 

Thus  armed,  the  two  engravings  "  under  my  eyes 
and  before  my  table,"  he  proceeded,  with  a  mixture  of 
audacity  and   fear   yielding   unexpected   results,  to   the 

'    To  Garrick,  April  14,  1769. 

2  Cailhava  d'Estandoux  to  Garrick,  February  6,  1769. 


GARRICK    ASiHAMI.F.T. 

From  the  painting  by  Wilson.     Engiaved  bx  J.  Mac  A  nidi. 


:/•  417. 


28 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  419 

fabrication  of  a  hybrid  drama,  Greek  and  Danish, 
French  and  English,  all  at  once.  His  Hamlet,  imbued 
with  the  examples  of  antiquity,  readily  invokes  the 
gods,  and  parades  through  the  palace  of  Elsinore 
"the  redoubtable  urn"  containing  the  late  king's 
"  deplorable  ashes " — which  does  not  prevent  him 
from  speaking  elsewhere  of  that  prince's  coffin.  l 
The  unities  are  observed  ;  Claudius  has  a  confidant, 
Polonius  ;  the  queen  has  a  confidante,  Elvire.  King 
and  queen  relate  their  past  to  the  confidants,  and  declare 
their  intentions  with  the  most  dangerous  simplicity  : 
Ducis's  monsters  are  black,  but  not  complicated.  Clau- 
dius opens  the  drama  with  the  plain  statement  that  he 
means  to  overthrow  young  Hamlet  and  wear  the  crown 
himself: — 

"  Oui,  cher  Polonius,  tout  mon  parti  n'aspire, 
En  detronant  Hamlet,  qu'a  m'assurer  l'empire." 

Elvire  reminds  the  queen  that,  as  she  has  a  confidante, 
she  is  bound  to  confide  secrets  to  her  : — 

"  Expliquez-vous  enfin,  c'est  trop  vous  en  defendre, 
Avez-vous  des  secrets  que  je  ne  puisse  entendre, 
Madame  ?  " 


1  The  question  ot  the  urn  was  the  cause  of  lively  discussions  : 
"  Les  aveugles  enthousiastes  de  la  Melpomene  anglaise  purent 
trouver  mauvais  qu'on  osat  alterer  ainsi  l'un  des  principaux  objets 
de  leur  culte.  .  .  .  Que  signifiait  cette  urne  sur  laquelle  Hamlet 
exige  que  sa  mere  jure  qu'elle  est  innocente  de  la  mort  de  son 
pere  ?  "  "Costumes  et  xAnnales  des  grands  Theatres  de  Paris,"  by 
De  Chamois,  1786,  ff.,  vol.  ii.,  No.  xxiii.  The  urn  was  preserved  ; 
Talma  used  it,  and  when  he  was  painted  as  Hamlet  (by  Lagrenee 
fils)  the  urn  figured  in  the  canvas  as  a  necessary  attribute.  The 
picture  is  now  preserved  at  the  Theatre  Francais. 


420  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

The  queen  doubtless  blushes  a  little,  and  informs 
Elvire  that  some  time  ago  she  murdered  her  husband. 
All  through  the  play  conversations  replace  the  action  ; 
but  the  plot  is  made  darker  :  Ophelia  is  the  daughter 
of  Claudius,  so  that  Hamlet  will  be  obliged,  like  the 
Cid,  to  kill  his  mistress's  father  in  order  to  avenge  his 
own.  On  the  other  hand,  the  ghost  remains  nearly 
all  the  time  in  the  coulisse,  and  there  Hamlet  discovers 
it  : — 

"  Hamlet  {dans  la  coulisse').  Fuis,  spectre  epouvantable, 

Porte  au  fond  des  tombeaux  ton  aspect  redoutable." 

Instead  of  the  play  performed  before  the  guilty  pair, 
a  tale  is  told  in  their  presence  of  how  a  crime  of  the 
same  sort  as  their  own  was  committed  in  London  : — 

"  Hamlet.     Raconte  devant  eux,  pour  demeler  leur  crime, 

L'attentat  dont  un  roi  dans  Londres  fut  victime." 

At  the  end,  Claudius,  in  open  rebellion,  besieges  the 
palace,  takes  it,  and  reaches  Hamlet,  who  kills  him  ; 
but  a  variant  allows  the  players,  if  they  prefer,  to 
replace  actual  killing  by  a  narrative.  And  Hamlet, 
who  will  no  doubt  marry  Ophelia  ("This,  heart  till 
the  grave  will  burn  for  thy  charms  ")  resigns  himself 
"to  be"  : — 

"  Je  saurai  vivre  encor  ;  je  fais  plus  que  mourir." 

The  play  was  a  success.  Mole  displayed  an  extra- 
ordinary spirit,  and  carried  all  before  him — excepting 
Diderot,    however  ;     excepting    also    Colle,    the    song- 


MLLE.    FLEIRY   AS   OPHELIA   IX   DLCISS   "  HAMLET." 

'KOLE    D'oKFELIE    DANS    HAMLET.''  [/>.    42 1. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         423 

writer  Colle,  the  "good  Colle,"  so  merry  in  real  life, 
so  morose  in  his  Journal,  who  only  kept  his  good 
temper,  as  was  seen  later,  on  condition  of  pouring  out 
the  bad  in  his  memoirs  :  "  Mole  is  exaggerated  in  that 
play,"  Colle  wrote  after  the  first  performance  ;  "  he 
bellows  his  part,  he  is  like  a  madman,  he  frightens 
one  ;  but  that  is  enough  for  this  flat  abomination  to 
be  found  admirable  and  for  it  to  draw  crowds.  He 
has  made  [Diderot's]  '  Pere  de  Famille '  succeed  bv 
dint  of  his  wild  acting ;  and  so  he  only  plays  '  Hamlet ' 
twice  a  week,  as  he  did  the  '  Pere  de  Famille."  l 

From  this  we,  at  any  rate,  gather  that  people  ran  to 
see  the  play,  and  this,  for  the  author,  was  the  chief 
point.  Ducis  pursued  his  plan.  Shortly  afterwards 
the  tragedy  of  "  Romeo,"  "  read,  accepted,  learnt,  and 
performed  in  a  fortnight's  time,"  had  at  first  a  rather 
doubtful  success,  then  it  was  remodelled  and  "  went  to 
the  skies,"  thanks  especially  to  a  scene  in  the  fourth  act, 
which  was  "  applauded  furiously."  Romeo,  in  this 
play,  is  a  young  man  of  feeling  and  a  lover  of 
humanity,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time.  He 
declares  from  the  first  that  he  could  not  hate  a  Capulet, 
for  a  Capulet  is  a  man,  and  all  men  are  brothers  : — 

"  Puisqu'il  est  homme,  helas,  peuc-il  m'etre  etranger  :  " 

1  September  30,  1769.  The  play  came  out  in  print  shortly 
after:  "  Hamlet,  tragedie  imitee  de  l'anglois,"  Paris,  1770,  8°. 
The  advertisement  begins  :  "  Je  n'entends  point  l'anglois."  Ducis 
used  the  French  text  of  La  Place.  The  similitude  of  Mole's  acting 
in  Ducis's  play  and  in  Diderot's  did  not  render  the  latter  more 
indulgent  :  "  Laissez-la  le  theatre,"  he  wrote,  alluding  to  Ducis, 
"je  m'accommoderai  encore  mieux  du  monstre  de  Shakespeare  que 
de  Pepouvantail  de  M.  Ducis."  ("  CEuvres,"  ed.  .Assezat,  vol.  viii., 
p.  476.) 


424  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

He  feels  toward  "this  mortal"  the  same  sentiments 
which  Sombreuses  felt  for  all  mortals.  "  The  author 
obtained  the  honours  of  a  triumph,  that  is  to  say,  he 
was  pushed  by  a  comedian  on  to  the  stage  to  make  his 
bow  to  the  public."  The  writer  of  the  "  Corre- 
spondance  litteraire  "  adds  that  he  had  seen  the  original 
play  in  London  :  "  I  still  remember  with  delight  a 
certain  conversation  by  moonlight,  full  of  tenderness 
and  charm,  between  Romeo  and  Juliet,  when  she  is  on 
a  terrace  above,  leaning  over  a  balcony,  and  her  lover 
in  the  garden  at  the  foot  of  the  terrace  "  l — a  scene 
generally  remembered  nowadays. 

In  "  Romeo "  Ducis  is  faithful  to  his  method  : 
narratives  and  confidants  allow  him,  nearly  all 
through  the  play,  to  avoid  putting  the  action  under 
our  eyes.  Shakespeare's  sombre  plot  is  rendered 
blacker  still  :  Hamlet  was  at  the  same  time  the 
Cid  ;  old  Montagu  is  at  the  same  time  Ugolino  ;  he 
once  upon  a  time  devoured  all  his  children,  except 
Romeo,  in  Famine's  Tower,  and  he  relates  to  the 
sole  survivor  the  details  of  this  calamity  due  to  the 
Capulets'  ferocity. 

English  plays  must  "  necessarily  be  remodelled  " 
to  become  presentable  for  you,  Chesterfield  had  said  ; 
-Ducis  remodelled  with  right  good  will,  modifying 
the  tone,  the  style,  and  the  plot.  Shakespeare's  old 
Capulet  dared  call  Juliet  "  carrion  "  ;  Prince  Hamlet 
exclaimed,  addressing  his  father:  "Well  said,  old 
mole  "  ;   Ducis's  old  Capulet  dares  not  use  the  word 

1  "  Correspondancc  Litteraire  dc  Grimm,  Diderot,"  &c,  ed. 
Tourncux,  vol.  x.,  p.  27.  First  performance,  July  27,  1772, 
second,   with   alterations,    July   29th. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         425 

bread,  and  when  describing  his  wants  in  the  tower, 
says  he  lacked  even  "  the  aliments  granted  merely 
to  sustain  existence."  l 

The  "  Correspondance  litteraire,"  and  not  without 
reason,  judged  Ducis'  sombre  inventions  severely  : 
"  Our  poets  commit  the  same  fault  of  which  Comp- 
trollers General  of  finance  are  sometimes  guilty. 
Because  they  have  learnt  that  one  and  one  make  two, 
our  financiers  persuade  themselves  the  taxes  need  only 
to  be  doubled,  and  that  two  and  two  will  make  four. 
They  are  mistaken,  and  soon  find  out  that,  in  spite  of 
their  arithmetic,  two  and  two  hardly  make  three.  In 
the  same  way  our  poets,  to  produce  terrible  effects,  pile 
up  horrors  upon  horrors,  and,  instead  of  making  people 
shudder,  they  make  them  laugh."  Genius  does  not 
require  all  that  ;  one  word  is  enough  for  it,  "  but  the 
question  is  how  to  find  that  word." 

Neither  the  laughter  of  some  nor  the  indignation  of 
others  could  stop  the  "  bonhomme  Ducis,"  who  had  on 
his  side  the  public,  very  fond  of  frightful  events,  pro- 
vided it  heard  of,  and  did  not  see,  them  ;  his  story  of 
Ugolino  had  excited  in  the  audience  that  "  charming 
pity  "   eulogised   by   Boileau,  and   had  determined    the 


Montaigu.  Dans  une  tour  fatale  on  me  vint  enfermer. 

Romeo.        Avec  vos  enfants  : 

Montaigu.  Oui,  prete  Poreille,  au  reste   .  .   . 

Nous  nous  levons,  on  vient,  nous  attendions  d'avance 
L 'aliment  qu'on  accorde  a  la  simple  existence. 
Chacun  se  tait,  j'ecoute  et  j'entends  de  la  tour 
La  porte  en  mur  e'pais  se  changer  sans  retour  .  .   . 
Je  de'vorai  ces  mains   .   .   .   Raymond,  Dolce,  Severe 
M'offrirent  a  genoux  leur  sang  pour  me  nourrir." 


426  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

success  of  the  play.1  Ducis,  moreover,  was  far  too 
sincere  in  his  admiration  to  allow  himself  to  be  intimi- 
dated by  a  few  dilettanti  ;  he  continued  to  transcribe 
for  the  French  stage  the  works  of  that  "  singularly 
fertile,  original,  and  extraordinary  genius,"  of  "  that 
poet,  finally,  whose  work  I  am."  He  realized  the 
excess  of  his  temerity  ;  he  quaked  at  the  thought  ;  but 
he  persevered.  "I  trembled  more  than  once,  I  con- 
fess," he  writes  a  propos  of  "  Lear,"  "  when  I  had  the 
idea  of  showing  on  the  French  stage  a  king  whose 
reason  is  deranged."  He  trembles,  also,  when  he 
ventures  the  scene  of  Lady  Macbeth's  somnambulism, 
"  a  singular  scene,  hazarded  for  the  first  time  on  our 
stage,"  in  which  Madame  Vestris  was  admirable,  and, 
according  to  Ducis,  equalled  even  Mrs.  Siddons.2 


1  It  is  the  scene  in  the  fourth  act  mentioned  above.  This 
"belle  scene,"  according  to  Colle,  who  blames  all  the  rest,  saved 
the  play.  "  II  s'est  adroitement  servi,"  we  read  on  the  other  hand 
in  the  "  Annee  Litteraire,"  "  d'un  morccau  admirable  de  Dante  pour 
donner  plus  d'encrgie  a  la  haine  des  Montaigus  ct  des  Capulets ; 
mais  la  delicatesse  des  spectateurs  francais  l'a  contraint  d'affaiblir  la 
catastrophe.      (1778,  vol.  vii.,  p.  105.) 

2  It  was  then,  and  for  a  long  while,  Mrs.  Siddons'  great  part. 
A  Frenchman  who  saw  her  in  it  in  May,  18 10,  notes  in  his 
journal  :  "  Mistress  Siddons  approche  de  plus  pres  le  beau  ideal  de 
son  art  qu'aucune  actrice  011  aucun  acteur  que  j'aie  jamais  vu. 
"Voyage  d'un  Francais "  (L.  Simond),  Paris,  1816,  i.,  p.  187. 
Cf.  "Corinne,"  xvii.,  ch.  iv.  Chateaubriand,  while  an  emigre,  saw 
her  too  :  "  Mistress  Siddons  dans  lc  role  de  Lady  Macbeth  jouait 
avec  une  grandeur  extraordinaire  ;  la  scene  du  somnambulisme 
glacait  d'effroi  les  spectateurs."  He  saw  her  again  late  in  life,  when 
she  had  left  the  stage  :  "  File  etait  habillee  de  crepe,  portait  un 
voile  noir  comme  un  diademe  sur  ses  cheveux  blancs  et  ressemblait 
a  une   reine  abdiquee."      "  Essai  sur  la  Litteraturc  Anglaise." 


DUCIS   WRITING    LEAK. 

Engraved  by  J.  J.  Avril  from  the  picture  by  Mine.  Guiard  of  the  French 
Royal  Academy  of  Painting.  [/>.  427. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         429 

To  understand  all  there  was  of  audacity  in  these 
attempts,  we  must  remember  not  only  the  opposition 
made  to  them  by  the  ultra-refined,  but  also  the  state  of 
mind  in  Paris,  just  before  the  Revolution.  Never  was 
anything  seen  so  gentle,  so  attenuated,  so  delicate,  and  so 
polished.  The  contemporaries  themselves  noticed  it  : 
how  could  horrible  sights  please  a  people  so  full  of 
amenity  ?  Already  Le  Tourneur,  in  his  dedication  to 
Louis  Seize,  had  said  :  "\our  Majesty  will  see  the 
tragic  pictures  of  the  divisions  which  only  too  often 
have  rent  England.  It  will  be  for  you  an  agreeable 
and  flattering  relaxation  to  let  your  imagination  wander 
in  the  midst  of  these  foreign  scenes,  while  you  have  at 
your  feet  a  gentle  and  submissive  people."  When  the 
witty  authors  of  the  "  Correspondance  Litteraire  "  saw 
Ducis'  dramas  on  the  stage,  it  seemed  to  them  that, 
even  by  contrast,  those  tragedies  could  hardly  please  : 
"Why,"  they  said,  speaking  of  "Hamlet,"  "this 
continual  repetition  of  great  crimes  in  our  theatrical 
representations  and  in  a  century  where  the  pettv 
manners  (les  petites  mvurs)  are  so  far  from  the  energy 
such  crimes  demand  ?  "  No  one  will  understand  the 
hatred  of  the  Montagus  and  Capulets  :  "  To  what 
intent  can  these  horrible  pictures  be  offered  to  a  nation 
which  can  scarcely  conceive  their  possibility  ?  There 
are  no  doubt  in  France  hearts  born  for  hatred,  and 
they  have  made  themselves  sufficiently  known,  but 
their  vengeances  are  characterized  by  a  refinement 
and,  I  venture  to  say,  a  pettiness  conformable  with 
these  weakly  manners  of  ours — nos  mceurs  flue  ties." 
Besides,  and  for  many  of  the  most  prominent  people  in 
society  this  was  another  sort  of  grievance,  these  dramas 


43Q  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

treated  of  not  very  interesting  persons.  Every  one 
knew  the  Atrides,  but  not  the  Capulets.  "  The  Marquis 
de  Brancas  went  off  highly  displeased  after  the  first 
performance.  What  are  to  us,  he  said,  all  those  Capulets 
whom  nobody  knows,  and  who  are  related  to  no  one  ? 
— If  Romeo  was  to  have  married  a  Juliette  de  Brancas, 
it  would  no  doubt  have  been  different."  l 

Marmontel  is  no  less  emphatic.  The  powerful 
tragedies,  the  vigorously-drawn  comedies  of  the  English 
theatre,  may  very  well  please  a  London  audience  ;  but 
how  could  they  be  accepted  in  France  ?  "  A  gentle  and 
polished  nation,  where  each  one  considers  it  his  duty  to 
conform  his  sentiments  and  ideas  to  the  ways  of  society, 
where  habits  are  law,  should  present  only  characters 
softened  by  good  manners  and  vices  palliated  by 
bienseances."  2 

Ducis  remained  immutable,  and  pursued  his  own 
plans.  He  risked  "Lear"  in  1783,  and  showed  a 
crazy  king  on  the  stage  ;  he  discarded  the  unity  of  place 
and  offered  the  most  romantic  sights  to  view  :  "  The 
stage   represents  the   most  sinister  spot   in   an  ancient 

1  "A  quel  dessein  pcut-on  done  tracer  ces  horribles  tableaux  a 
une  nation  qui  a  peine  en  doit  concevoir  la  possibilite  ?  Jl  y  a  sans 
doute  en  France  des  coeurs  nes  pour  la  haine,  et  ils  se  sont  assez  fait 
connaitre,  mais  leurs  vengeances  portent  1111  caractere  de  raffinement 
et,  j'ose  dire,  de  mesquinerie  conforme  au  rcste  de  nos  moeurs 
flucttes." — "  Le  Marquis  de  Brancas  sortit  tres  mecontent  de  la 
premiere  representation. — <211C  nous  font,  dit-il,  tous  ces  Capulets 
que  Ton  ne  connait  pas,  et  qui  ne  tiennent  a  personne  ? — Si  Romeo 
avait  dii  epouscr  une  Juliette  de  Brancas,  e'eut  etc  different,  sans 
doute."  "  Correspondancc  Litterairc  de  Grimm,  Diderot,"  &c, 
vol.  x.,  p.  30. 

2  "  Elements  de  Litterature."      Sub  verbo  "  Comedie." 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II  431 

forest,  rocks,  caves,  precipices,  a  fearful  site.  The  sky 
is  dark  and  threatening."  In  the  second  act  is  seen 
"  a  vast  and  ancient  palace,  where  long  and  darksome 
vaults  meet  overhead.  It  must  be  of  a  terrible  aspect." 
The  play  was  first  performed  at  court,  then  in  public, 
and  in  spite  of  the  "  weakly  manners,"  had,  at  least  with 
the  public,  a  great  success  ;  Madame  Yestris  and  Brizard 
were  warmly  applauded,  and  Ducis  was  thus  recom- 
pensed for  his  kindness  in  not  depriving  the  latter  of 
his  part,  though  the  old  actor  was  "  falling  more  and 
more  into  ruins,"  and  had  lost  his  memory.1  At  the 
end  of  the  performance,  "  the  author  was  called 
for  but  without  much  enthusiasm,  the  last  act  having 
been  less  successful  than  the  others  ;  he  thought  fit 
however  to  appear,  and  even  at  a  moment  when  no  one 
was  thinking  about  him,  for  the  actor  whose  business  it 
was  to  announce  the  second  performance  of  the  play 
had  just  informed  the  public  that  peace  was  signed." 
The  preliminaries  of  the  treaty  of  Versailles  with 
England,  recognizing  the  independence  of  the  thirteen 
United  States,  had  been  signed  in  fact  this  very  day, 
Monday,  January  20,  1783. 

The  success  of  the  play  nevertheless  went  on  in- 
creasing, and  the  master-critics  of  the  time  became 
more  and  more  indignant  at  the  applause  awarded  to  so 
many  unaccountable  strokes  of  audacity  :  "  But,"  wrote 


1  "  Ce  qui  m'afflige,  c'est  que  l'honnete  Brizard  tombe  de  plus 
en  plus  en  ruines.  Ouelques  personnes  m'ont  conseille  de  donner 
le  role  a  Larive  ;  mais  je  me  reprocherais  d'affliger  Brizard,  qui  a 
parfaitement  saisi  toutes  mes  intentions."  To  Deleyre,  February 
21,  1782.  Ducis  wrote  later  the  long  eulogistic  epitaph  for 
Brizard's   tomb.     To    Madame    Brizard,    February,    1791. 


432  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

La  Harpe,  "  how,  it  will  be  asked,  has  that  incredible 
heap  of  revolting  absurdities,  of  puerile  nonsense  .  .  . 
managed  to  obtain  a  success  as  great  as  that  of  '  Zaire' 
and  '  Merope  '  ?  Many  reasons  might  be  given  ;  the 
chief  one  is  that  our  theatre  is  no  longer  what  it  was,  a 
choice  assembly  of  more  or  less  learned  amateurs." 
The  rabble  has  invaded  it  ;  "  it  has  been  taught  to 
enjoy  a  pleasure  which  was  not  meant  for  it.  .  .  . 
All  the  enlightened  men  of  Paris  cry  out  upon  the 
scandal  of  such  a  success.  It  is  even  to  be  noted  that 
this  play,  so  applauded  in  town,  succeeded  very  badly 
at  court."  I      People  seek  consolation  where  they  can. 

In  spite  of  the  success,  even  Bucis's  friends  thought 
he  was  going  too  far.  He  writes  :  "  Monsieur 
Ducis,  I  am  told,  cease  for  a  while  to  paint  such 
fearful  pictures  ;  you  may  take  them  up  again  later  ; 
but  give  us  a  tender  play,  in  the  style  of  '  Ines,' 
or  of  '  Zaire.'  " — No,  replied  Ducis,  after  "  Lear," 
you  shall  have  "Macbeth"  and  "  Jean-sans-Terre "  ; 
and    after    "  Jean-sans-Terre,"    "  Othello."     This    was 


1  "Mais  comment,  dira-t-on,  cet  incroyable  amas  d'absurditcs 
rivoltantes,  de  niaiscries  pueriles  .  .  .  a-t-il  obtcnu  un  succes  aussi 
grand  que  '  Zaire  '  et  '  Merope  '  ?  On  pourrait  en  donner  bien  des 
raisons,  mais  la  principale  e'est  que  nos  spectacles  ne  sont  plus  ce 
qu'ils  ont  etc,  une  assemble'e  choisie  d'amateurs  plus  on  moins 
instruits  :  e'est  le  rendez-vous  d'une  foule  desoeuvree  et  ignorante, 
depuis  que  le  peuple  despetits  spectacles  n'a  cu  besoin,  pour  envahir 
les  grands,  que  de  payer  un  peu  plus  cher  un  plaisir  dont  on  lui  a 
donne  le  gout,  et  qui  n'etait  pas  fait  pour  lui.  .  .  .  Tout  ce  qu'il  y 
a  d'hommes  eclaircs  dans  Paris  se  rccrie  sur  le  scandale  d'un  tel 
succcs.  II  est  memc  a  remarquer  que  cette  piece  tant  applaudie  a 
la  villc  a  tres  mal  reussi  a  la  cour."  "Correspondance  adrcsiec  au 
Grand  Due,"  Letter  1 8 1 . 


THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         433 

Ducis's  last  Shakespearean  adaptation.  Talma  played 
the  part  of  the  Moor,  and  was  wonderful  in  it. 
"  People  thought  they  saw,  or  rather  they  did  see,  in 
M.  Talma,"  says  the  author,  "  the  living  Othello,  with 
all  the  African  energy,  all  the  charm  of  his  love,  of 
his  truthfulness,  and  of  his  youth.  They  heard  the 
silence  of  his  terrible  despair,"  that  silent  way  of 
acting  made  famous  by  Garrick  in  former  years 
and  so  much  admired  by  Marmontel.  Ducis,  at 
the  end  of  his  dramatic  career,  persevered  in  the 
methods  of  his  early  days.  He  adapts  "  Othello " 
as  freely  as  "  Hamlet."  The  events  all  take  place 
in  Venice,  narrative  is  constantly  resorted  to,  each 
hero  is  followed  by  a  confidant,  the  train-bearer  of  his 
thoughts.  "  Over  me,"  says  Hedelmone  (Desdemona  ; 
Lady  Macbeth  is  called  Fredegonde  in  Ducis's  "  Mac- 
beth "),  "  over  me  you  watched  from  my  cradle,  dear 
Hermance,  and  you,  with  your  milk,  sustained  my 
infancy  ;  "  J  in  other  words,  you  were  my  nurse.  The 
heroine  thereupon  gives  an  account  of  this  same  infancy 
that  the  nurse  remembered  perhaps  as  well  as  she  did. 
Loredan-Cassio  makes  love  to  Hedelmone  ;  Pezare- 
Iago  excites  the  jealousy  of  the  Moor  who  stabs  her  ; 
Pezare's  treason  is  discovered,  and  he  is  arrested 
by  "  those  mortals  of  whom  the  State  salaries  the 
vigilance,"   usually  called   policemen.2 

Ducis   had    taken   particular   precautions    to    render 
this  subject  supportable   to   the  public  ;   but   they  did 

1  "  Sur  moi,  des  le  berceau,  tu  veillas,  chere   Hermance, 

Et  e'est  toi,  de  ton  lait,  qui  soutins  mon  enfance." 

2  "Ces  mortels  dont  l'Etat  gage  la  vigilance 

Ont  de  tous  ses  projets  acquis  la  connaissance." 

29 


434  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

not  prove  sufficient,  and  he  had  to  remodel  his  play. 
No  need  to  say  that,  following  the  example  of  all  the 
other  adapters  of  "  Othello,"  he  had  whitened,  or  at 
least  yellowed  his  Moor  :  "  I  thought  that  a  yellow, 
copper-like  complexion,  which  is,  in  fact,  suitable  also 
for  an  African,  would  have  the  advantage  of  not  re- 
volting the  public,  and  especially  the  female  eye."  He 
had  softened  his  Iago  as  much  as  possible  ;  they 
suffer  him  in  London  as  he  is  ;  but  no  such  example 
of  rascality  could  have  been  tolerated  in  Paris  :  "  It 
is  therefore  quite  intentionally  that  I  have  hidden  from 
my  audience  that  atrocious  character,  not  to  revolt 
them."  Now  for  the  denouement  :  there  it  happened 
that  Ducis,  in  spite  of  all  the  care  he  had  taken  not  to 
have  his  Hedelmone  smothered,  had  gone  indeed  too 
far  :  "I  must  now  speak  of  my  denouement.  Never 
was  an  impression  more  terrible.  The  whole  assembly 
rose  with  one  cry.  Several  women  fainted.  It  was  as 
though  the  dagger  with  which  Othello  had  stabbed 
his  Jove  had  entered  into  every  heart.  But,  to  the 
applause  still  given  to  the  work,  were  mingling  im- 
probations,  murmurs,  and  finally  even  a  sort  of 
rebellion.  I  thought  for  one  moment  the  curtain  was 
going  to  drop."  Ducis  could  not  refuse  some  satis- 
faction to  an  outburst  so  spontaneous  ;  he  wrote 
another  ending,  leaving  stage  managers  to  conclude 
as  they  pleased  :  "  Consequently,  to  satisfy  part  of 
my  audience  who  found  the  weight  of  pity  and  of 
terror  excessive  and  too  painful  in  my  denouement,  I 
have  taken  advantage  of  the  plot  of  my  play,  which 
made  this  change  a  very  easy  matter,  to  substitute  a 
happy  ending  for  the  one  which  had  offended  them." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II         435 

Nothing,  indeed,  was  easier  ;  Pezare's  wiles  are  dis- 
covered in  time  ;  Hedelmone,  kissing  her  husband, 
begs  him  to  "  let  her  tender  flame  pour  joy  and  peace 
into  his  soul  "  : — 

"  Va,  tout  est  oublie,  va,  que  ma  tendre  flamme 
Remette  et  le  bonheur  et  la  paix  en  ton  ame." 

Othello,  "  too  happy  not  to  forgive,"  pardons 
Pezare.  The  "  mceurs  fluettes "  demanded  all  these 
concessions  in  the  year  of  the  first  performance  of 
"Othello" — 1792. 

A  few  months  later,  Ducis  was  writing  to  his  friend 
Vallier  :  "  Why  talk  to  me,  Vallier,  of  composing 
tragedies  ?  Tragedy  walks  the  streets.  If  I  put  my 
foot  out  of  doors,  I  have  blood  up  to  my  ankle." 
He  lived  aloof  throughout  the  remainder  of  his  long 
life,  moved  by  the  good  and  by  the  evil  of  which  he 
was  a  spectator,  welcoming  his  friends  in  his  retreat  : 
"  Come,  come  ;  palaces  may  be  narrow,  but  hermitages 
have  a  thousand  resources  ; "  courageously  dating  a 
letter  to  Pare,  Minister  of  the  Interior  under  the 
Convention,  "the  14th  of  October  of  the  Christian 
era,  1793,"  refusing,  under  the  Empire,  a  seat  in  the 
Senate,  a  prize  from  the  Academy,  the  cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour,1  enjoying  those  simple  pleasures 
which  he  had  formerly  described  so  well  :  "  On  this 
great  river  of  life,  amid  so  many  barques  that  descend 

1  Letter  to  the  Comte  de  Lacepede,  Grand  Chancellor  of  the 
Legion  ot  Honour,  November  27,  1803.  Later  :  "Ma  fierte 
naturelle  est  assez  satisfaite  de  quelques  non  bien  fermes  que  j'ai 
prononces  dans  ma  vie."  To  M.  O'Dogharty  de  la  Tour, 
November   7,   1806. 


436  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRAXCE 

it  rapidly,  never  to  ascend  it  again,  it  is  still  a  happi- 
ness to  have  found  in  one's  little  boat  some  kind  souls 
who  mingle  their  provisions  with  yours,  and  share  the 
feelings  of  your  heart.  The  sound  of  the  waves  is 
heard,  telling  us  we  are  passing,  and  we  cast  a  look 
on  the  varied  scene  of  the  vanishing  shore."  ' 

He  retained  his  passion  for  Shakespeare  to  the  end. 
A  friend  coming  to  see  him  at  Versailles  on  a  cold 
January  morning,  found  him  "  in  his  bedroom, 
standing  on  a  chair,  and  absorbed  in  arranging  with 
some  pomp,  about  the  head  of  the  English  .ZEschylus, 
an  enormous  bunch  of  box  foliage  that  had  just  been 
brought  him."  Seeing  the  surprise  of  his  friend,  who 
was  no  great  admirer  of  Shakespeare,  and  according  to 
whom  Ducis  had  "  often  embellished  "  his  model,  he 
said  :  "  Do  you  not  see  that  to-morrow  is  the  feast  of 
St.  William,  the  patron  saint's  day  of  my  Shakespeare." 
Coming  down  from  his  chair,  he  added  :  "  Dear  friend, 
the  ancients  used  to  adorn  with  flowers  the  springs 
whence  they  had  drawn."  2 

He  retained  his  passion  ;  but  without  understanding 
the  master  any  better  than  formerly.  He  spent  his 
time  in  retouching  his  adaptations  and,  as  he  thought, 

1  "  Sur  ce  grand  flcuvc  dc  la  vie,  parmi  tant  de  barques  qui  le 
descendent  rapidement  pour  nc  le  rcmonter  jamais,  e'est  encore  un 
bonheur  que  d'avoir  trouve  dans  son  batelet  quelques  bonnes  Ames 
qui  melent  leurs  provisions  avec  les  votres  et  mettent  leur  cceur  en 
commun  avec  vous.  On  entend  le  bruit  de  la  vague  qui  nous  dit 
que  nous  passons,  et  Ton  jette  un  regard  sur  la  scene  varice  du 
rivage  qui  s'enfuit."  To  M.  Deleyrc  ;  "de  notrc  solitude 
d'Auteuil,"  February  3,  1781. 

-'  Notice  on  Ducis,  by  Campenon,  prefacing  the  "CEuvres 
posthumes." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CEXTURY.     PART  II  437 

perfecting  them.  He  continued  with  unabated  energy 
both  to  soften  and  to  overdo  his  model,  in  nowise 
restrained  by  the  sarcasms  of  Abbe  Le  Blanc.  Talma 
was  his  favourite  interpreter.  Having  rearranged  a 
whole  act  of  Hamlet,  he  wrote  to  the  tragedian  :  "  I 
have  seasoned  it  as  much  as  I  could  with  grace,  pity, 
and  especially  terror.  I  have  endeavoured  to  dip  my 
pen  in  Dante's  inkstand  and  to  place  myself  in  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  accursed  valleys,  by  the  lurid 
light  of  Tisiphone's  torches,  and  on  the  banks  of  the 
Phlegethon. 

"  Friend  of  mine,  when  you  have  fired  every 
imagination,  when  every  one  dreams  of  Talma,  what 
would  you  say  to  our  producing  without  uttering  a 
word,  and  like  two  villains  who  act  by  night,  this 
fifth  work  of  iniquity  to  crown  our  horror  and  our 
reputation  !  Your  witchcraft  alone  can  render  this 
audacious  attempt  a  possible  and  perhaps  a  happy  one."  ' 

The  success  of  the  undertaking  equalled  Ducis's 
expectations  ;  his  joy  being  at  its  height,  he  took  a 
grave  resolve,  the  importance  of  which  did  not  escape 
him  as  he  expatiates  on  it  in  several  letters.  The 
resolve  was  to  send  Julienne,  his  faithful  servante^ 
to  Paris,  that  she  might  witness  the  plav — "  Julienne, 
my  cook,  who  has  never  seen  a  tragedv,  never  been  to 
the  theatre,  who  has  seen  Talma  in  this  house,  who  has 
taken  care  of  him  when  he  came  to  dine  and  sleep,  and 
who  longs  for  the  pleasure,  so  new  to  her,  of  admiring 
him  in  the  tragedies  composed  bv  her  master."  She 
has  "  a  pretty  head-dress  that  belongs  to  her,  and 
matches  a  verv  neat  gown,  and  it  will  be  no  shame  for 
1    Versailles,  June  24,  1807. 


438  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

you,"  writes  Ducis  to  his  nephew,  "  to  lend  her  your 
arm."  Everything  is  settled,  Julienne  will  start  to- 
morrow from  Versailles,  and  must  be  given  dinner  and 
bed,  "  so  that  she  may  see  she  is  in  my  family  ;  and 
do  you,  my  dear  nephew  and  good  friend,  kindly 
arrange  everything,  so'  that,  by  means  of  the  tickets 
I  have  placed  at  your  disposal,  you  may  let  her  see 
comfortably  and  perfectly  this  terrifying  tragedy.  It 
cannot  but  be  a  keen  pleasure  for  you  to  see  and  study 
in  Julienne's  face  and  mind  the  effects  and  impressions 
she  receives  ;  you  will  give  me  a  faithful  account  of  the 
same."  l  Besides  Dante  and  Shakespeare,  Ducis  thus 
found  himself  imitating  Moliere. 

He  died  in  1 8 1 6,  aged  eighty-three.  The  success 
of  his  singular  productions  was  not  an  ephemeral  one ; 
they  outlived  him.  They  had  outlived  the  Revolution, 
they  had  been  played  under  the  Consulate  and  the 
Empire  ;  they  were  still  played  under  the  Restoration  ; 
they  outlived  even  the  whirlwind  of  Romanticism  ;  but 
from  that  time  their  popularity  decreased,  and  they 
have  now  finally  disappeared  from  the  repertoire. 


VI. 

To  form  an  equitable  judgment  concerning  Ducis 
and  his  dramatic  efforts,  the  dispositions  of  the  public 
in  his  day  must  be  borne  in  mind.  He  did  what  he 
could,  and  had  to  take  into  account  the  tastes  of  the 

1  Versailles,  January  13  and  14,  1809.  "  Lcttres  dc  Ducis," 
ed.  P.  Albert,  Paris,  1879,  8°.  What  Julienne  felt  at  the  sight 
of  the  terrifying  tragedy  is  unluckily  left  for  speculation.  She 
subsequently  married  a  baker,  and   lived   very  happily  with  him. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         439 

time  :  "I  have  to  deal,"  he  said,  "with  a  nation  that 
requires  a  great  deal  of  managing  when  it  has  to  be  led 
through  the  blood-stained  roads  of  terror."  F  Had  he 
altered  Shakespeare  less,  he  could  not  have  had  him 
played  at  all  ;  an  Othello  wholly  black,  an  Iago  wholly 
perfidious,  a  Desdemona  smothered,  would  have  been 
hissed.  La  Harpe,  arbiter  of  taste,  showed  very  clearly, 
when  translating  Lillo's  "  London  Merchant,"  how 
ticklish  the  public  had  remained  on  the  matter  of 
decorum.  For  a  difference  of  one  shade — and  how  pale 
a  shade  ! — an  author  might  be  applauded  or  hissed  :  "  I 
have,"  he  says,  "  observed  as  nearly  as  I  could  the  rules 
of  decorum  received  on  our  stage.  ...  I  have  tried 
to  ennoble  the  character  of  Milvoud  .  .  .  she  is  not 
a  courtesan  as  in  the  English  play,  she  is  a  widow, 
who  has  had  an  honest  estate,  but  who,  fallen  into  bad 
fortune  through  her  husband's  faults,  had  resorted  to 
shameful  resources." 

If,  from  the  works  of  the  arbiter  of  taste,  we  pass  on 
to  those  of  a  revolutionary  theorist  like  Mercier,  we  find 
exactly  the  same  apprehensions  and  niceties.  When 
either  of  them  indulges  in  discourses  and  theories,  he  is 
found  to  be  in  absolute  opposition  to  the  other  ;  when 
they  come  to  practical  work  and  write  for  the  stage 
they  cannot  but  consult  the  public  taste,  and  then 
these  enemies  are  discovered  unexpectedly  to  agree. 
Mercier,  who  also  wrote  afterwards  a  "  Timon,"  - 
published  in    1782   a  "Romeo"  :   "  Les  Tombeaux  de 

1  To  Garrick,  July  6,  1774. 

2  "  Timon  d'Athenes,  en  cinq  actes  et  en  prose,  imitation  de 
Shakespeare,"  Paris,  "  an  Hi.,"  8°  (with  a  preface  which  is  a  diatribe 
against  Robespierre). 


44°  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Verone,"  J  in  prose.  This  great  contemner  of  the 
classics,  __of_£_onfidants,  and  of  ancient  rules,  gives  Juliet 
a  confidante,  Laura  ;  he  has  recourse  to  narratives  and 
monologues  and  discards  action  ;  he  makes  use  of 
prose,  but  a  prose  full  of  noble  expressions  and  peri- 
phrases, of  general  terms  replacing  the  word  proper. 
Mercier  the  revolutionist  is  seized  with  terror,  his 
heart  wavers,  he  dares  not  say  :  the  clock  strikes  ;  he 
says  :  "  the  quivering  bronze  has  struck  the  twelfth 
hour." — "  L'airain  fremissant  a  sonne  la  douzieme 
heure." — Juliet,  already  married,  opens  the  play  by  a 
monologue  which  begins  thus  :  "  The  twelfth  hour 
has  made  itself  heard.  ...  It  is  the  signal.  Oh  night, 
deepen  your  shades,  conceal  in  darkness  two  unhappy 
and  faithful  lovers.  .  .  .  The  authors  of  my  days, 
tranquilly  sleeping,  do  not  suspect,"  &c.2  The  play,  as 
in  Chastellux's  version,  has  a  happy  ending.  Romeo, 
in  Juliet's  sepulchre,  is  about  to  pierce  himself  with  his 
dagger  ;  the  Capulets  arrive  to  kill  him  ;  the  Montagus 
arrive  to  kill  the  Capulets  ;  at  that  moment  Juliet 
awakes  : — 

"  Capulet.      My  daughter  living  !   let  me  embrace  her." 

These  words  effect  a  sudden  change.  Romeo  embraces 
Juliet  ;  the  Montagus  embrace  the  Capulets,  and  the 
curtain  falls  to  the  sound  of  kisses. 

1  Neufchatel,  1782,  8°. 

2  "La  douzieme  heure  s'est  fait  entendre.  .  .  .  C'est  le  signal. 
O  nuit,  epaissis  tcs  ombres,  cache  dans  les  tenebres  deux  amants 
malheurcux  et  fideles.  .  .  .  Les  auteurs  de  mes  jours,  paisiblement 
endormis  ne  soupconnent  point  que  la  fille  d'un  Capulet,  amante, 
cpousc  d'un  Montagu.  .  .  ."  Friar  Laurence  is  replaced  by  "  Ben- 
voglio,  medecin  naturaliste  attache  aux  deux  maisons." 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         441 

With  the  Revolution  everything  is  changed  in  the 
State,  but  nothing  is  changed  on  the  stage.  "  French- 
men, my  fellow  citizens,"  writes  Marie-Joseph  Chenier, 
in  1790,  dedicating  "  to  the  Nation  "  his  "  Charles  IX. 
ou  l'Ecole  des  Rois,"  "  accept  the  homage  of  this 
patriotic  tragedy.  I  dedicate  the  work  of  a  free  man 
to  a  nation  become  free.  .  .  .  Women,  sensitive  and 
cowering  sex,  made  to  be  the  consolation  of  a  sex 
that  is  your  support,  fear  not  this  austere  and  tragic 
picture  of  political  crimes.  .  .  .  Fathers  of  families, 
let  your  children  come  and  see  these  severe  sights." 
Chenier  then  addressed  the  king,  meaning  obviously  to 
forget  no  one,  and  he  honoured  with  a  versified  apos- 
trophe that  "  head  of  a  trusty  nation  "  who  had  just 
returned  to  Paris,  "  the  abode  of  his  ancestors  "  : — 

"  Monarque  des  Francais,  chef  d'un  peuple  fidele 
Qui  va  des  nations  devenir  le  modele, 
Lorsqu'au  sein  de  Paris,  sejour  de  tes  ai'eux, 
Ton  favorable  aspect  vient  consoler  nos  yeux, 
Permets  qu'une  voix  libre,"  &c. 

The  stage  must,  then,  be  rejuvenated  ;  there  must, 
it  seems,  be  new  dramas  for  a  regenerated  people. 
But,  all  at  once,  just  after  his  sounding  appeals, 
Chenier  showed  by  his  "  Charles  IX.,"  his  "  Brutus  et 
Cassius  ou  les  Derniers  Romains,"  that  in  reality 
nothing  at  all  was  changed  ;  he  and  his  auditors 
remained  just  as  particular,  just  as  nice  as  before. 
Shakespeare,  who  puts  low  people  on  the  stage,  con- 
tinued to  inspire  a  feeling  of  disgust  :  "  With  tar 
more  ignorance  and  barbarity,"  said  Marie-Joseph 
Chenier,  "  the   Englishman  Shakespeare  has  made  the 


442  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Romans  talk  in  one  of  the  most  admired  scenes  of  his 
'Julius  Caesar.'  Is  it  possible  to  hear,  without  disgust, 
Brutus  reproach  Cassius  with  feeling  an  itching  in  his 
hand  ?  .  .  .  Such  words  as  these  are  still  more  revolt- 
ing :— 

"  I  had  rather  be  a  dog  and  bay  at  the  moon 
Than  such  a  Roman." 

There  was  no  perceptible  change  ;  Palissot  and 
Clement  had  expressed  themselves  in  the  very  same 
manner  during  the  thick  of  the  campaign  led  by 
Voltaire  against  Shakespeare  :  "  If  Shakespeare  had 
not  been  blinded  by  the  general  bad  taste  then  in 
vogue,  he  would  have  perceived  that  the  Roman  people 
of  Caesar's  and  of  Cicero's  time  could  never  have 
expressed  themselves  like  the  English  populace  of  the 
coarse  times  in  which  he  lived."  !  People  remained 
convinced  that  the  Roman  populace  expressed  itself 
with  nobleness  on  all  occasions,  and  that  it  would  never 
have  ventured  to  use  those  expressions  of  anger, 
"  termes  d'emportement,"  which  the  Academy  had 
excluded  from  its  Dictionary,  under  Louis  Quatorze. 
The  contemporaries  of  Robespierre  trusted  the  pencil 
of  David  and  believed  in  his  grand  Romans. 

Unity  of  place  is  admirably  observed  in  Chenier  : 
"  The  scene  is  at  Philippi  in  Macedonia,  in  Brutus 's 
tent."  The  idea  of  using  prose  seems  to  Marie-Joseph 
so  inadmissible  that  it  makes  him  laugh  ;  he  sees  in  it 
"  a  folly  without  importance,  more  diverting  than  dan- 
gerous." 

The  hold  of  the  "  ancien  regime"  on  minds  was  not 

1   "Journal  Francais,"   March,  1777. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         443 

yet  abolished.  More  than  one  among  the  most  in- 
fluential and  independent  spirits  continued,  as  formerly, 
to  advocate  liberal  reforms  on  all  sorts  of  subjects, 
but  to  except  tragedy  alone.  The  great  romantic  of 
early  days,  Chateaubriand,  who  was  to  contribute  so 
greatly  to  the  impending  renovation,  devotes,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century,  several  essays  to  England 
and  to  Shakespeare.  "  I  have  traversed,"  he  begins, 
in  a  phrase  characteristic  of  his  manner,  and  of  the 
coming  changes,  "  a  few  regions  of  the  globe,  but  I 
confess  that  I  have  better  observed  the  desert  than 
mankind."  A  true  romantic  speaks  here,  and  Chateau- 
briand takes  the  counterpart  of  the  ideas  dear  to  the 
old  French  classics,  who,  like  Saint-Evremond,  thought 
that  "  A  true-bred  gentleman  must  live  and  die  in  a 
capital  ;  "  I  dear  also  to  the  ancient  Greeks  who  thought 
with  Plato:  "Nothing  can  we  learn  from  the  fields 
and  trees  ;  much  from  towns  and  the  society  of  men."  2 
But  as  soon  as  it  is  a  question  of  tragedy,  the  tone 
changes  with  Chateaubriand,  and  the  ancient  regime 
reappears.  Shakespeare  is  even  blacker  in  his  eyes  than 
in  Voltaire's  ;  his  examples  are  dangerous  both  for  art 
and  for  morals  ;  his  works  are  fit  for  an  audience  "  com- 
posed of  judges  arriving  from  Bengal  or  from  the  coast 
of  Guinea.  .  .  .  Shakespeare  should  reign  eternally 
with  such  a  people."  But  a  nation  who  knows  the 
rules  of  art  "  cannot  return  to  monsters  without  risk- 


1  "  Un  honnete  homme  doit  vivre  et  mourir  dans  une  capitale." 
To  the  Earl  of  Saint-Albans,  "  CEuvres  melees,"  1708,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
228. 

2  T<i  fiiv  olv  \MPln  Kat  ~«  Eivcpa  ovciv  f.t'  i9i\n  cicaoKuv,  01  c'tv  Tip  aare 
avOowiroi.      "  Phasdrus." 


444  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

ing  its  morals.  In  this  respect  the  liking  for  Shake- 
speare is  far  more  dangerous  in  France  than  in  England. 
With  the  English  it  is  only  ignorance  ;  with  us  it  is 
depravity.  .  .  .  Bad  taste  and  vice  nearly  always  go 
together."  Shakespeare  has,  it  is  true,  very  unusual 
"  natural  talents  "  ;  but  "  with  regard  to  dramatic  art," 
no  good  can  be  said  of  him  ;  to  praise  him  would  be 
equivalent  to  pretending  "  that  there  are  no  dramatic 
rules."  And  this  very  Chateaubriand,  whose  "  Genie 
du  Christianisme "  was  to  appear  the  following  year, 
and  to  second  so  effectually  the  romantic  renovation, 
did  not  hesitate,  in  order  to  emphasize  his  dis- 
approbation of  Shakespeare,  to  compare  him  to  a 
Gothic  cathedral,  involving  the  man  and  the  edifice  in 
the  same  condemnation  :  "  One  beauty  in  Shakespeare 
does  not  excuse  his  innumerable  defects  ;  a  Gothic 
monument  may  please  by  its  obscurity  and  by  the 
very  difformity  of  its  proportions  ;  but  no  one  dreams 
of  building  a  palace  on  such  a  model."  1  Chateau- 
briand was  writing  under  the  Consulate,  when  palaces, 
and  even  churches,  were  being  built  in  Greek  style. 
Gothic  and  barbarous  were  still,  as  in  Boileau's  time, 
regarded  as  one  and  the  same  thing.  "  The  monu- 
ment," Boileau  had  once  written  to  Brossette,  respecting 
a  Roman  tomb  discovered  at  Lyons,  "  does  not  seem 
to  me  in  very  good  taste,  it  has  a  heaviness  which 
in    my   opinion   borders  on   the  Gothic."  2 

1  Essay  on  "  l'Angleterrc  et  les  Anglais,"  1800  ;  on  Shakespeare, 
1801.  Montesquieu  had  said  in  the  same  manner  :  "  Un  batiment 
d'ordrc  gothique  est  tine  cspecc  d'enigmc  pour  l'oeil  qui  le  voir.,  et 
Fame  est  embarrassee  comme  quand  ou  lui  prescntc  un  poeme 
obscur."      "  Encyclopedie,"  sub  verbo  "  Gout  "  (1757). 

2  May  14,  1704. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         445 

Shakespeare's  admirers  have  since  accepted  Chateau- 
briand's sentence  and  have  converted  it  into  praise  : 
thus  do  tastes  and  judgments  sometimes  veer  round  ; 
the  same  happened  with  the  verdict  of  Marmontel, 
who,  to  show  his  disdain  for  Gliick,  had  called  him 
the  "  Shakespeare  of  music  "  ' — an  insult  then  so  great 
that  some  Piccinists,  maybe,  found  it  excessive — a  eulo- 
gium  so  high  to-day  that  many  a  Gliickist  deems  it 
exaggerated. 

Madame  de  Stael,  so  enthusiastic  about  "  northern 
literature,"  was  not  at  all  blind  to  Shakespeare's  defects; 
she  found  in  Ossian  alone  the  really  characteristic  re- 
presentative of  the  north  :   "  There   exist,  it  seems  to 

1  "  Pour  qui  ne  voudrait  qu'etrc  remuc,  Shakespeare  serait 
preferable  a  Racine  :  aussi  par  la  meme  raison  qui  fait  dormer  a  la 
musique  de  M.  Gliick  une  preference  exclusive  sur  la  musique 
italienne,  a-t-on  mis  le  tragique  anglais  au  dessus  de  tous  nos 
tragiques  ;  mais  cette  nouvelle  ecole  de  gout  n'a  pas  eu  de  vogue  a 
Paris."  Such  was,  however,  the  animosity  of  Marmontel  against 
Gliick  that  he  considered  that  to  call  him  "  le  Shakespeare  de  la 
musique"  was  even  "un  honneur  excessif."  "  Essai  sur  les  Revo- 
lutions de  la  musique,"  1777,  p.  27.  On  the  quarrel  between  the 
Piccinists  and  Gluckists,  see  Brunei,  "Les  Philosophes  et  l'Acade- 
mie,"  1884,  p.  290.  Fievee  and  Palissot  published  or  republished 
at  that  time  judgments  quite  as  severe  as  Chateaubriand's:  "La 
tragedie  anglaise  se  compose  en  general  de  fous,  de  folles,  de 
spectres,  de  meurtes  longuement  executes  et  de  sang.  .  .  .  Notre 
public  repousse  maintenant  de  nos  theatres  ce  qu'on  appelle  le 
genre  anglais,  il  a  raison.  II  faut  a  une  nation  delicate  des 
spectacles  qui  elevent  l'esprit  ou  qui  le  rejouissent."  Fievee, 
"  Lettres  sur  l'Angleterre,"  1802,  p.  89.  The  "conjures"  favour- 
able to  Shakespeare  dream  of  plunging  the  nation  again  into 
barbarity,  "  et  d'etablir  le  siege  de  leur  Academie  a  Bedlam." 
Palissot,  "  Memoires  pour  servir  a  l'histoire  de  notre  Litterature,"' 
Paris.  1803,  2  vols.,  8°,  vol.  i.,  p.  158. 


446  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

me,  two  literatures  quite  distinct,  the  one  that  comes 
from  the  south  and  the  one  that  descends  from  the 
north  ;  the  one  of  which  Homer  is  the  source,  and  the 
one  whose  source  is  Ossian."  ' 

Shakespeare,  meanwhile,  was  dragging  out  a  career  as 
miserable  as  ever  :  Ducis  had  been  really  an' audacious 
experimenter.  A  few  celebrated  passages  from  Shake- 
spearean dramas  are  found  occasionally  inserted  into 
the  tragedies  of  the  day  ;  for  instance,  in  "  Epicharis 
et  Neron,  ou  Conspiration  pour  la  Liberte,  tragedie  en 
cinq  actes  et  en  vers,  par  Legouve,  citoyen  francais  ; 
Paris  an  II."  Nero  is  tormented  by  the  same  spectres 
as  Richard  III.  : — 


"  Nc  me  trompe-je  pas  ?     Je  crois  voir  mes  victimes.  .   .  . 
Je  les  vois,  lcs  voila.   .   .   .   Du  fond  des  noirs  abimes, 
S'elancent  jusqu'a  moi  des  fantomes  sanglants  ; 
lis  jettent  dans  mon  sein  des  flambeaux,  des  serpents   .   .   ." 

But  generally  (Ducis  excepted)  Shakespeare  at  that 
moment  furnished  chiefly  matter  for  operas,  panto- 
mimes, or  shows  for  the  circus,  such  plays  as  :  "  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  Year  Two  of  the  Republic  one  and 
indivisible,"  an  opera  by  Segur,  music  by  Steibelt, 
with  a  happy  ending,  performed  by  "  le  citoyen 
Chateaufort "  (Capulet)  and  the  "  citoyenne  Scio " 
(Juliet),  with  confidants,  romantic  scenery  ("  the  stage 
represents  an  avenue  plunged  in  a  darkness  that  the 
rays  of  the  moon  can  hardly  pierce  "),  and  an  Antonio, 
"  guardian   of   the    ancestral   sepulchre,"   who    replaces 

1  "  De  la  Litterature  consideree  dans  ses  rapports  avec  les  institu- 
tions socialcs,"  part  i.,  chap,  xi.,  1st  cd.,  1800. 


THE  EIGHTEEXTH  CENTURY.     PART  II         447 

Friar  Laurence ; — "  Hamlet,  pantomime  tragique  en  trois 
actes,  melee  de  danses,"  by  Louis  Henry,  "  musique 
de  M.  le  Comte  de  Gallenberg,  chevalier  de  l'ordre 
des  Deux-Siciles,"  18 16,  with  a  statue  of  old  Hamlet, 
that  comes  to  life,  like  the  statue  of  the  Commander  in 
Don  Juan  ; — "  Les  visions  de  Macbeth  ou  les  Sorcieres 
d'Ecosse,  melodrame  a  grand  spectacle,"  '  with  a  great 
deal  of  magic,  "  witches  rising  perpendicularly  by  the 
side  of  a  tall  pine  tree,  their  feet  resting  only  on  the 
wings  of  a  vulture,"  a  Lady  Macbeth  who,  like  Ducis's 
heroine,  is  called  Fredegonde,  and  a  traitor  as  black  as 
Iago  added  to  Shakespeare's  plot ;: — "  Le  More  de  Venise 
ou  Othello,  pantomime  entremelee  de  dialogues  (and 
dances),  representee  sur  le  theatre  du  cirque  olympique 
de  MM.  Franconi,"  181 8. 

1  Paris,  1 8 1 7,  composed  before  181 2.  Of  the  same  period, 
"Shakespeare  amoureux,"  by  Alex.  Duval,  1804,  a  bluette  played 
by  Talma.  In  his  essay  on  the  "Influence  de  Shakespeare" 
(Brussels,  1856),  M.  A.  Lacroix  mentions  an  "Imogenes  ou  la 
Gageure  indiscrete,"  comedy  by  Dejaure  (a  play  which  I  have  not 
seen),  music  by  Kreutzer,  1796,  drawn  from  "  Cymbeline."  See, 
on  the  other  hand,  in  "  Corinne  "  (1807)  the  description  of  a  per- 
formance of  "Romeo  "  in  Rome  ;  Corinne  plays  the  part  of  Juliet  ; 
"  never  had  any  tragedy  produced  such  an  effect  in  Italy."  (Bk.  vii., 
chap,  iii.) 


EPILOGUE 

YEARS  pass  ;  times  change.  Between  politics  and 
literature  the  contradiction  continues,  but  is 
reversed  ;  politics  become  calmer,  literature 
becomes  more  turbulent.  People  were  classic  under 
the  Terror,  they  are  romantic  under  the  Restoration. 
Napoleon  is  at  Saint  Helena,  kings  have  'returned,  they 
are  once  more  "  Kings  of  France,"  the  ancient  Court  has 
been  reconstituted.  Will  not  halcyon  days  begin  again 
for  ancient  tragedy  ?  Not  so  ;  its  last  hour  is  near  ;  it 
is  about  to  die,  not,  however,  without  a  struggle.  In 
its  turn  it  is  beleaguered,  the  day  of  the  independents 
has  come  once  more.  Melpomene  still  reigns  with 
Louis  XVIII.  ;  her  star  wanes  under  Charles  X. 
Stendhal,  in  1823,  finds  the  quarrel  just  where  Voltaire 
left  it  ;  he  takes  sides  unhesitatingly  against  received 
ideas.1  The  redoubts  to  be  carried  are  exactly  the 
same  ;  he  demands  :  1st,  the  faculty  of  writing  in  prose  ; 
2nd,  the  suppression  of  thejmities  ;  3rd,  the  right  to  use 
the  proper  word,  the  most  telling  expression,  and  not 
invariably  the  noblest-and  most  dignified.  He  deplores 
the  fact  that  a  number  of  national  subjects  should  be 
forbidden  to  French  authors  for  the  mere  reason  that 

1   "Racine  et  Shakespeare,"  1st  ed.,  1823. 

^o  449 


45©  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

the  word  "  pistol "  is  not  allowed  in  a  tragedy,  when 
the  thing  had  played  such  a  considerable  part  in  the 
national  history.  He  laments  the  submissiveness  of 
Legouve,  who  having  to  reproduce  the  famous  saying 
of  Henri  IV.  on  the  "  poule-au-pot  le  dimanche  "  felt 
bound  to  make  the  king  speak  thus  : — 

"  Je  veux  cnfin  qu'au  jour  marque  pour  le  repos, 
L'hote  laborieux  des  modestes  hameaux, 
Sur  sa  table  moins  humble  ait,  par  ma  bienfaisance, 
Ouelques  uns  de  ces  mets  reserves  a  l'aisance." 

Imagine  the  lively,  outspoken,  sharp-witted  monarch 
using  such  elaborate  circumlocutions,  speaking  of  "  the 
hard-working  guest  of  modest  hamlets,"  and  not  daring 
to  say  a  peasant,  and  calling  a  hen  "  one  of  those  viands 
reserved  to  the  well-to-do"  !  He  had  to  speak  thus 
on  the  stage  in  1806.  The  destruction  of  the  Bastille 
had  in  no  wise  profited  the  tragic  muse.1  She  con- 
tinued to  express  herself  as  she  had  in  Voltairean  days 
when  it  took  four  lines  to  say  such  a  simple  thing  as 
"  Phradate  gave  you  an  antidote  "  : — 

"  Ces  vegetaux  puissants  qu'en  Perse  on  voit  eclore, 
Bienfaits  lies  dans  les  champs  dc  l'astre  qu'elle  adore, 
Par  les  soins  de  Phradate  avec  art  prepares, 
Firent  sortir  la  mort  de  vos  flancs  dechires."2 

Shakespeare  was  now  publicly  played  in  English  on 

1  "La  jeuncssc,"  said  Stendhal,  "si  liberate  lorsqu'clle  parle  de 
charte,  de  jury,  d'elcctions  "  becomes  "  despotiquc,"  when  it  is  a 
question  of  tragedies.      [Ibid.) 

2  "  Semiramis,"  iv.,  2. 


EPILOGUE  451 

the  boards  of  a  Parisian  theatre  ;  but  the  attempt  was 
a  premature  one  ;  Hamlet  and  Othello  were  hissed  off 
the  stage.  The  representations  had  been  organized  by 
Penley,  and  they  began  with  "  Othello  "  at  the  Porte- 
Saint-Martin,  on  the  31st  of  July,  1822.  Not  a  word 
could  be  heard,  violent  altercations  took  place,  apples 
and  oranges  were  thrown  at  the  actors  ;  "  Parlez 
Franc.ais,"  the  audience  shouted  from  all  sides.1  At 
length  the  gendarmes  interfered  and  the  military  took 
possession  of  the  stage.  The  comedians  persevered, 
but  the  event  proved  that  they  had  appealed  "  from  a 
tumultuous  pit  to  an  infuriated  one";  the  "School 
for  Scandal,"  performed  on  the  3rd  of  August,  met 
with  a  worse  reception  than  even  "  Othello."  Apples  and 
eggs  were  again  used  as  a  means  of  expressing  literary 
doubts  and  objections.  Miss  Gaskell,  who  played  the 
part  of  "  Lady  Smerweld  "  (Sneerwell)  fainted.  Her 
fainting  touched  many  hearts  ;  but  the  papers,  to 
prevent  a  possible  reaction,  had  just  republished 
extracts  from  Monnet's  account  of  his  London  experi- 
ence when  his  French  troupe  had  met  with  a  similar 
reception,  and  one  or  his  actresses  had  received  a 
burning  candle  in  her  bosom  :  so  that  no  mercv 
could   be    shown    to    Penley    and    his    people.      "  The 


1   Stendhal,  "Racine  et   Sh  ;,"    1S2;.      Particular  causes 

and  especially  the  restrictions  put  upon  French  representations  in 
London,  greatly  contributed  to  increase  this  animosity  :  "A  Londres 
les  artistes  trancais  sont  reduits  a  donner  des  representations 
occultes,"  "a  jouer  incognito,"  that  is,  to  give  private  representations 
by  subscription.  The  Paris  public  wanted  tne  same  restrictions  to 
be  put  upon  English  players.  "  Le  Miroir,"  Julv  31st,  Aug. 
4th,    1822. 


452  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

unfortunate  artists  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  field 
of  battle,  all  strewn  with  projectiles."  I 

They  took  refuge  in  the  Theatre  of  the  Rue  Chan- 
tereine,  "  more  like  a  barn  than  a  theatre,"  and  there 
gave  private  performances  by  subscription.  In  this 
"  obscure  and  inelegant  nook  "  the  English  muses  were 
at  length  "  received  with  all  the  consideration  due  to 
exiles."  The  audience  was  not  large  but  it  consisted 
of  "enlightened  amateurs"  who  could  this  time 
"  peacefully  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Desdemona 
smothered,  and  Gertrude  slaughtered."  "  Romeo," 
"  Othello,"  "  Hamlet,"  "  Catherine  et  Pierre,"  as  the 
papers  announced  it  (obviously  Garrick's  adaptation  of 
"Taming  of  the  Shrew"),  "  Le  Spectre  du  Chateau  " 
(i.e.,  Addison's  "Drummer"),  "Richard  III."  were 
given  in  succession  ;  the  performances  came  to  an  end 
on  the  25th  of  October.  2 

But  the  cause  of  what  Stendhal  called  "  roman- 
ticisme  "  was  gaining  ground  ;  the  hour  of  its  triumph 
was  near.  Stendhal  heralded  it  :  "I  raise  my  voice 
because  I  perceive  clearly  that  the  death  knell  of  classicism 
has  struck.  Courtiers  have  disappeared,  pedants  fall  or 
become  police  censors,  classicism  fades  away." 

Five  or  six  years  roll  by  :  the  new  spirit  manifests 
itself ;  it  blows,  impetuous  and  irresistible,  over  the 
stage,  poetry,  arts,  music.  The  national  past,  foreign 
literatures,  Dante,  Ronsard,  Shakespeare,  Goethe, 
Byron,  are  studied  with  a  new  ardour.  Victor  Hugo 
prepares    his    manifestoes  ;    Delacroix    paints   with    his 


1  Alexandre  Dumas,  "  Mes  Mcmoires,"  1888,  vol.  i\\,  p.  277 

2  "  Le  Miroir,"  July  to  October,  1822. 


EPILOGUE  453 

"  inebriated  broom,"  son  balai  ivre,  and  under  his 
pencil  Hamlets,  Othellos,  Romeos,  and  Macbeths  stand, 
kneel,  pray,  dream,  and  threaten,  numberless.  The 
smaller  arts,  the  engraver's,  the  goldsmith's,  transform 
themselves  at  the  same  time  :  "  Celestin  Nanteuil,"  says 
Theophile  Gautier,  "  stood  far  above  real  life,  looking 
down  on  the  ocean  of  roofs,  watching  the  bluish  smoke 
curl  upwards,  perceiving  from  his  heights  the  streets  and 
places  like  the  squares  on  a  checker-board  ...  all  this, 
confusedly,  through  the  softening  veil  of  mists,  while 
from  his  aerial  observatory,  he  saw  near  him,  distinct 
in  every  detail,  the  rose-windows  with  their  stained 
glass,  the  pinnacles  bristling  with  croziers,  the  kings, 
the  patriarchs,  the  prophets,  the  saints,  the  angels  of 
every  order,  all  the  monstrous  army  of  demons,  or  of 
chimeras,  with  claws,  scales,  teeth  ;  hideously  winged, 
guivres,  tarasques,1  gargoyles,  asses'  heads,  monkey 
faces,  all  the  strange  bestiary  of  the  Middle  Ages." 
What  language,  and  what  a  change  !  Will  these 
people  who  admire  tarasques  and  monkeys  be  afraid 
of  the  mouse  that  stirs,  or  stirs  not,  at  the  beginning 
of  "  Hamlet  "  ?  Will  they  request,  like  Captain 
Douin's  friends,  that  "  the  general  terms  of  the  gods 
of  mythology  "  be  used  ?  Will  they  have  the  curtain 
dropped  on  Desdemona's  death  ?  They  are  no  longer 
afraid  ;  at  least,  they  think  so  :  "  The  fate  of  Icarus," 
writes  Gautier  again,  "  now  terrified  no  one.  Wings  ! 
wings  !   wings  !   was   the    cry  on  all  sides,  even   should 


1  The  famous  monster  of  Tarascon,  said  to  have  been  vanquished 
by  Martha,  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  who  bound  it  with  her  girdle  ; 
Guicres,  heraldic  snakes. 


454  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

we  fall  into  the  sea  !  To  fall  from  heaven  one  must 
have  been  there  !  "  All  endeavoured  to  scale  the  walls 
of  heaven  ;  the  ramparts  that  protected  the  ancient 
unities  fell  crashing  to  the  ground  ;  verse,  like  tragedy, 
was  at  length  emancipated ;  inanimate  beings  took  life ; 
the  "  twelve  feathers  "  of  the  stale  alexandrine  sud- 
denly became  wings  ;  the  poets  of  the  old  school  were 
stopped  in  their  game  and  the  racquet  fell  from  their 
hands  :  they  looked  aghast  at  the  familiar  "shuttle- 
cock," risen  beyond  their  reach,  borne  by  the  winds, 
a  lark  in  the  blue  sky  : — 

"  Lc  vers  qui  sur  son  front, 
Jadis  portait  toujours  douzc  plumes  en  rond, 
Et  sans  cesse  sautait  sur  la  double  raquette 
Qu'on  nomme  prosodie  et  qu'on  nomme  etiquette, 
Rompt  dcsormais  la  regie  et  trompe  le  ciseau, 
Et  s'echappe,  volant  qui  se  change  en  oiseau, 
De  la  cage  cesure  et  fuit  vers  la  ravine, 
Et  vole  dans  les  cieux,  alouette  divine."     (Hugo.) 

It  was  the  end  of  an  epoch  and  liberty's  revenge,  a 
revenge  so  complete  that  any  liberty  seemed  good  now, 
whencesoever  it  came,  whithersoever  it  led.  The  very 
word  made  one  start  and  caused  a  quiver  of  enthusiasm. 
Quinet  addressed  himself  to  Herder,  1827;  Saint-Beuve 
to  Ronsard,  1828  ;  Guizot  to  Shakespeare,  1821  ;  and 
Le  Tourneur,  rejuvenated,  enjoyed  a  new  tide  of 
popularity. 

A  second  attempt  was  ventured  by  English  comedians. 
The  success  was  as  brilliant  as  the  first  failure  had  been 
doleful  ;  for  several  seasons  there  were  English  per- 
formances— one  at  the  Odeon  in  1827,  another  at  the 
Favart    Theatre    in    1828,  others    later,  with    Charles 


EPILOGUE  455 

Kemble  as  Hamlet,  Romeo,  Othello  ;  Terry  as  Lear 
and  Shylock  ;  Macready  as  Macbeth  ;  Kean  as 
Hamlet,  Richard  III.,  and  Othello;  Miss  Smithson 
as  Desdemona  and  Ophelia.  All  the  Paris  literary 
men  and  artists  attended  the  performances  :  Hugo, 
then  writing  the  preface  of  "  Cromwell,"  1  was  there  ; 
so  was  Dumas,  who  felt  "  bouleverse  "  by  "  Hamlet," 
and  understood  from  that  moment,  as  he  expressed 
it  in  his  immoderate  language,  "  the  possibility  of 
building  a  world  "  ;  so  was  Berlioz,  whose  emotion 
took  a  quasi-religious  turn,  and  who  began  to  wonder 
if  there  was  really  an  eternal  life  and  if  in  heaven 
he  should  meet  Shakespeare  and  his  interpreter,  the 
beautiful  Henrietta  Smithson  :  "  If  there  is  another 
world,  shall  we  meet  ?  .  .  .  Shall  I  ever  see  Shake- 
speare ?  Will  she  be  able  to  know  me  ?  Will  she 
comprehend  the  poetry  of  my  love  for  her  ?  "  2     He 

1  Commenced  September  30th,  finished  the  following  month, 
1827.      Souriau,  "La  Preface  de  Cromwell,"  1897,  p.  328. 

2  "  II  y  a  aujourd'hui  un  an  que  je  La  vis  pour  la  derniere  fois  .  .  . 
Oh!  malheureuse,  que  je  t'aimais  !  J'ecris  en  fremissant,  que  je 
t'aime  ! 

"  S'il  y  a  un  nouveau  monde,  nous  retrouverons  nous  ?  .  .  . 
Verrai-je  jamais  Shakespeare  ?  .  .  .  Pourra-t-elle  me  connaitre  ? 
Comprendra-t-elle  la  poesie  de  mon  amour  ?  .  .  .  O  Juliette, 
Ophelia,   Belvidera,   noms  que  l'enfer  rcpete  sans  cesse  !   .   .   . 

"  La  Raison. — Sois  tranquille,  imbecile,  dans  peu  d'annees  il  ne 
sera  pas  plus  question  de  tcs  souffrances  que  de  ce  que  tu  appelles 
le  genie  de  Beethoven,  la  sensibilite  passionnee  de  Spontini, 
l'imagination  reveuse  de  Weber,  la  puissance  colossale  de  Shake- 
speare !   .  .  . 

Va,  va,  Henriette  Smithson 
et  Hector  Berlioz 
seront  reunis  dans  1  oubli  de  la  tombe." 

Letter  to   M.   Hiller,    1829,    "  Correspondance   inedite,"    1879, 


456  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

did  not  have  to  wait  till  a  future  life  to  realize  one  of 
these- unions  ;  in  1833  he  married  Ophelia,  and 
immediately  a  life  began  for  the  pair  which  gave 
them,  alas,  no  foretaste  of  the  joys  of  the  elect. 

The  public  attended  the  performances  with  deep 
emotion  ;  to  assist  its  understanding  of  the  plays, 
tiny  editions  of  them  had  been  printed,  containing 
both  the  French  and  English  text.1  At  times  the 
audience  felt  a  little  inclined  to  laugh,  as,  for  instance, 
when  Hamlet  was  seen  to  seat  himself  on  the  floor, 
"  a  posture  so  incompatible  with  tragic  dignity,"  and 
when  Ophelia  walked  in  with  "  long  straws  stuck  in 
her  hair  "  ;  2  but  these  disrespectful  inclinations  were 
quickly  repressed.  During  the  entr'actes,  the  coulisses 
and  lobbies  resounded  with  discussions  ;  the  Press  and 
and  the  reviews  published  numerous  essays  for  and 
against  ;  the  "  Globe  "  inserted  a  series  of  enthusiastic 
letters  by  Charles  Magnin,  and  the  "Revue  Franchise" 
a  witty  and  cutting  essay  by  the  Due  de  Broglie,  who 
noted  the  success  of  the  barbarian,  the  triumph  of 
"  Attila- Shakespeare."  3      A    proportionate    disfavour 

p.  68.  Enthusiasm  of  Jules  Janin  for  Miss  Smithson  and  for 
Kcan  :  "  Je  vois  encore  Hamlet  au  cimetierc,  et  le  fossoyeur 
semblable  au  fossoyeur  d'Eugene  Delacroix."  "  Histoire  de  la 
litterature  dramatique,"  1853  ft".,  vol.  vi.,  p.  331.  Berlioz  married 
Miss  Smithson  in  1833  ;  they  separated  in  1840. 

1  "  Theatre  Anglais,  ou  collection  des  pieces  anglaises  jouces  a 
Paris,  publiees  avee  l'autorisation  des  directcurs  et  entierement 
conformes  a  la  representation,"  but  differing  greatly  from  Shake- 
speare's text.      Paris  (at  Mme.  Vergnc's),  1827,  120. 

2  Charles  Magnin,  Letters  to  the  "Globe,"  1827-28,  collected 
and  reprinted  in  "  Causeries  et  Meditations,"  Paris,  1843,  2  vols., 
8°.      See  the  portrait  of  Miss  Smithson  by  Valmont. 

3  January,  1830,  a  propos  of  Vigny's  "Othello."     "  Lc  Theatre 


MISS   SMITHSON"   AS  OPHELIA,    LATER   MADAME    BERLIOZ. 

By  A.  de  Yalmont.  \  f.  457 


EPILOGUE  459 

fell  to  the  lot  of  the  Geoffroys,  Duports,  and  other 
morose  critics  who  had  persisted  in  declaring  Shake- 
speare unreadable  :  "  What  reading  for  men  of  the 
world  !  Literary  professionals  can  scarcely  bear  the 
length  and  dulness  of  it  !  "  But  men  of  the  world 
gave  the  lie  to  M.  Duport.1 

The  experience  ot  182-  was  decisive.  From  that 
moment  Shakespeare  is  admitted  into  the  Pantheon 
of  the  literary  gods  ;  French  painters,  poets,  and 
musicians  are  of  one  mind  ;  Ingres  himself,  classical 
Ingres,  makes  room  tor  him  in  Homer's  cortege.2 
His  influence  becomes  more  marked  as  the  romantic 
movement  grows  wider.  It  can  be  traced  in 
the  works  of  all  the  literary  men  of  the  period 
from  Victor  Hugo  to  Flaubert,  from  Dumas  to 
Musset.  Victor  Hugo  divides  the  history  of 
humanity  into  three  periods  :  periods  of  the  ode,  of 
the  epic,  and  of  the  drama,  represented  by  Moses, 
Homer,  and  Shakespeare  ;  all  the  rivers  ot  poetry 
"  flow  into  the  ocean  of  the  drama  "  ;  "  everything 
in  modern  poetry  tends  towards  the  drama,"  and  the 
drama,  according  to  Hugo,  is  Shakespeare. 3  Dumas, 
growing  more  and  more  immoderate,  goes  further  still 

Francais  s'est  rendu  faute  d'avoir  ete  secouru  a  propos  et  ravitaille 
en  temps  opportun.  Dans  la  soiree  du  25  octobre  dernier,  Attila- 
Shakespeare  en  a  pris  possession  avec  armes  et  bagages,  enseignes 
deployees,  au  fracas  de  mille  fanfares.  Pauvres  poetes  de  la  vieille 
roche,  qu'allez-vous  devenir  r  " — "  Revue  Francaise,"  No.  xiii. 

1  "  Essais  litteraires  sur  Shakespeare,"  Paris,  1828,  2  vols.  8°. 

2  At  the  Louvre,  dated  1827,  the  figure  of  the  dramatist  is 
however  painted  so  close  to  the  frame  that  only  part  of  the  face 
is  seen. 

3  Preface  to   "  Cromwell." 


460  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

and  calls  Shakespeare  "  the  poet  who  has  created  most, 
after  God";  l  but  does  not  hesitate,  for  all  his  idolatry, 
to  treat  rather  unceremoniously  the  productions  of  this 
divine  being.  Belonging,  though  he  does,  to  the 
generation  which  did  not  fear  guivres  or  tarasques^ 
Dumas  the  elder,  Dumas  the  Mousquetaire,  dares  not 
confront  the  mouse  in  "  Hamlet "  ;  and,  in  the  version 
of  the  play  written  by  him  in  collaboration  with  Paul 
Meurice  in  long  alexandrine  lines,  the  cowrin,  the 
awful  animal  is  left  unmentioned.  The  two  authors 
end  their  drama  after  the  manner  of  Ducis,  not  after 
the  manner  of  Shakespeare  : — 

"  Hamlet.  And  I  ?  am  I  to  remain  on  earth,  a  disconsolate 
orphan,  breathing  this  air  saturated  with  misery  ?  .  .  .  Will  God 
stretch  forth  His  arm  against  me,  Father  ?  And  what  chastisement 
then  awaits  me  ? 

Ghost.     Thou  shalt  live."  - 

On  this  the  play  ends.  The  enthusiasm  for  Shake- 
speare is  none  the  less  durable  ;  it  conquers  the  repre- 

1  Preface  for  the  transl.  of  Shakesp.,  by  Benj.  Laroche,  1839. 

2  "  Hamlet.      Et  moi,  vais-je  rester,  triste  orphelin  sur  terre, 

A  respircr  cet  air  imprcgne  de  misere  ?   .   .   . 
Est-ce  que  Dieu  sur  moi  fera  peser  son  bras, 
Pere  ?  Et  quel  chatiment  m'attend  done  ? 
Le  fantome.  Tu  vivras." 

"  Hamlet,"  by  Dumas  and  Meurice,  performed  December 
15,  1847  ;  costumes  "copies  sur  les  tableaux  de  Lehmann 
et  les  croquis  d'Eugene  Delacroix  "  ;  engraving  in  "  L'lllus- 
tration,"  December  25,  1847.  The  version  of  the  play  as  given 
in  1886  (with  Mounct-Sully  and  Mile.  Rcichenberg)  has  been 
considerably  altered  to  make  it  more  like  Shakespeare's.  At 
the  beginning,  the  allusion  to  the  mouse  is  restored  ;  Hamlet  dies 
at  the  end.  As  early  as  1842  M.  Paul  Meurice  had  given  a 
"Falstaff"  at   the  Odeon. 


EPILOGUE  463 

I  sentatives  of  schools  the  most  opposed.  Shakespearean 
I  fancy  guides  the  hand  of  Musset  when  he  becomes  a 
I  dramatist,  and  Heine  praises  him  therefore  in  a  book 
I  where  praise  of  the  French  school  of  poetry  does  not 
■  abound.1  Lamartine,  after  Guizot  and  Hugo,  devotes 
|!  a  whole  volume  to  Shakespeare  :  "  Virtue,  crime,  pas- 
I  sion,  vices,  ridicules,  grandeur,  pettiness,  everything  is 
I  his  domain,  the  whole  keyboard  of  man's  nature  lies 
I  under  his  fingers.'1 2  Flaubert  writes  to  George 
I  Sand  :  "  I  read  nothing  now  except  Shakespeare, 
I  whom  I  have  taken  up  again  from  one  end  to  the 
I  other.  It  invigorates  vou  and  puts  air  into  your  lungs 
I  as  if  you  were  on  the  top  ot  a  high  mountain.  Everv- 
I  thing  seems  flat  bv  the  side  of  that  prodigious  bon- 
homme  "  (1875). 

Translations  multiply  ;  complete  editions  in  English 
are  printed  in  Paris  ;  every  one  has  become  familiar 
with  the  "  prodigious  bonhomme  "  in  a  thousand  wavs  : 
through  reading,  through  the  performance  of  his  plays 
in  French  and  English  3  (and  even  in  Italian  with 
Sal  vim  and  Rossi,  and,  at  the  moment  I  write, 
Novelli)  ;  through  adaptations  for  the  stage  by  Vigny, 

1  "De  l'Angleterre,"   2nd  cd.,  1SS1,  p.  241. 

2  "  Shakespeare  et  son  CEuvre,"    Paris,  1S65,  8°,  p.  1  1. 

3  Various  English  troupes  visited  Paris,  such  as  Macready's  in 
1845,  with  Miss  Helen  Faucit  (at  the  "  Italiens  "  ;  they  played  with 
great  applause  "  Hamlet  "  at  the  Tuileries  before  Louis  Philippe)  ; 
Wallack's  troupe  which  had  little  success  ;  Daly's  American  troupe 
in  1888,  at  the  Vaudeville,  with  Miss  Ada  Rehan.  She  played  the 
r  Shrew  "  ;  her  plaving  was  admired,  but  the  play  was  not  :  "  Jc  ne 
sais,  mais  quelque  chose  se  revoke  en  moi  a  ces  brutalites,  elles  me 
navrent  et  ne  m'amusent  point.  Je  ne  peux  pas  rire  a  la  vue  de 
cette  ferame  iniuriee,  bousculee,  frappee  meme  "  (Sarcey). 


464  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

Dorchain,  Cressonnois  and  Samson,1  Bouchor  (for 
the  marionnettes'  theatre  of  the  Galerie  Vivienne),2 
Haraucourt,3  Delair,4  Aicard,  &c.  ;  through  com- 
mentaries, criticisms,  public  lectures,  drawings,  engrav- 
ings ;  through  musical  works  drawn  from  his  plays, 
the  "  Romeo  et  Juliette,"  and  "  Beatrice  et  Benedict  " 
of  Berlioz,  not  to  speak  of  the  operas  of  Gounod, 
Ambroise  Thomas,  or  Saint-Saens.  No  one  would 
think  of  saying  to-day,  at  a  public  sitting  of  the 
Academy,  as  Voltaire  did  addressing  his  fellow- 
academicians  in  the  last  century  :  "  Some  of  you, 
gentlemen,  know  that  there  exists  a  tragedy  of  Shake- 
speare's called  '  Hamlet.' '      Its  existence  is  notorious. 

What,  then,  is  the  final  result  of  these  commotions, 
revolutions,  and  literary  wars  ?  It  is  not,  as  regards 
the  action  of  Shakespeare,  what  certain  symptoms  might 
have  made  one  fear,  nor  what  numerous  angry  protesta- 
tions formerly  prophesied.     This  conqueror,  this  new 

'  "  Hamlet  "  with  Sarah  Bernhardt  as  Ophelia  (at  the  Porte- 
Saint-Martin,  1886). 

2  "  La  Tempete,"  "  selon  nous  la  plus  divine  entre  les  comedies 
de  Shakespeare"  (a  prose  translation,  1888). 

3  Who  rivals  Dumas  in  his  enthusiasm  : — 

"  O  Poete  immortel  qui  petrissais  des  Ames, 
Frere  de  Dieu  .  .  . 

Du  seul  baiser  des  mots  tu  procreais  des  homines. 
Ouand  tu  leur  disais  :   marche,  ils  partaient  triomphants, 
Roi  des  ages,  et  plus  vivants  que  nous  ne  sommes — 
La  mort  passe  sur  nous  sans  toucher  les  enfants." 

"  Shylock,"  1889  (Mile.  Rejane  as  Portia,  Albert  Lambert  as 
Shylock,  at  the  Odeon). 

•»  "La  Megcre  apprivoisee  "  at  the  Francais,  1891  (Coquelin  as 
Pctrucchio  ;  a  very  free  adaptation). 


EPILOGUE  465 

"  Attila,"  has  enslaved  no  one  ;  on  the  contrary 
he  has  assisted  in  a  work  of  emancipation  :  thereby 
deserving  our  gratitude.  Revolutions  may  succeed 
each  other  :  beneath  the  various  elements  of  which 
French  minds  are  formed,  a  Latin  substratum  will 
always  remain  ;  French  poets  may  depart  rrom  the 
classic  ideal,  and  have  often  done  so,  but  even  then 
they  keep  nearer  to  it  than  people  of  northern  climes  : 
thus  preserving  an  originality  that  is  theirs,  and  for  the 
loss  of  which  no  amount  of  successful  imitation  could 
compensate.  They  may  write  epigrams  on  Versailles 
"  where  the  gods  put  on  such  airs  in  their  dried-up 
basins," 

"  Oii  lcs  dieux  ton:  tant  de  Faxons 

Pour  vivre  a  sec  dans  lcurs  cuvettes  "  {Musset)  ; 

at  heart  they  love  Versailles,  and  if  the  naiads  lack 
water,  springs  are  made  to  flow  again  and  the 
rose-coloured  marble  of  the  steps  is  restored  to  its 
former  beauty.  What  was  of  real  import  has  been 
done  ;  for  a  hundred  years,  scarcely  any  one  had  dared 
walk  beyond  the  alleys  of  Versailles,  and  even  under 
pretext  of  not  altering  them,  they  were  no  longer  kept 
up.  Men  were  wanted  bold  enough  to  go  further,  to 
pass  the  limits  of  the  avenues,  and  walk  into  the  grand 
and  simple  landscape  seen  from  the  terraces  beyond  the 
gardens  :  for  there  is  room  in  nature  for  both  one  and 
the  other,  for  parterres  and  for  real  country  ;  French 
gardens  there  be,  and  French  country  too,  both  very 
French  indeed.  It  seems  as  though  it  was  a  slight 
thing  to  do,  and  as  though  one  had  needed  only  to 
dare.     No   doubt  it   was,  but    no   one   dared   until  the 


466  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

romantics  led  the  way.  "  The  door  was  open,"  it  will 
be  said.  Assuredly  ;  but  not  more  so  than  the  door  of 
America  ;  and  it  was,  we  know,  enough  for  the  glory 
of  Columbus  that  he  should  have  crossed  its  threshold. 

An  unexpected  consequence  has  been  the  result  : 
these  struggles,  these  furious  discussions,  these  stormy 
representations  in  which  the  long-haired  romantics 
("  one  cannot  be  born  with  wigs,"  Gautier  said),  those 
ferocious  reformers  "  who  would  have  liked  to  eat  an 
academician,"  did  their  worst — these  quarrels,  instead 
of  blunting  the  national  genius  and  of  wearying  it 
out,  not  only  restored  it  to,  but  even  increased,  its 
pristine  fecundity.  France  has  become,  from  that 
moment,  the  productive  nation  par  excellence  in 
dramatic  matters.  Ir  English  novels  are  everywhere 
read,  French  plays  are  everywhere  performed  ;  from 
Lisbon  to  St.  Petersburg,  from  Athens  to  London. 
French  dramatists  are  now  the  great  purveyors  ;  the 
theatres  of  the  whole  universe  are  peopled  with  their 
heroes.  No  one  disputes  France  the  first  rank  in 
this  :  liberty  and  competition  produce  such  results  ; 
there  is  no  wisdom  in  always  fearing  them. 

Shakespeare  so  different,  so  powerful,  so  universal, 
has  helped,  for  his  part,  to  bring  about  this  emancipa- 
tion. To  believe  that  he  has  become  acclimatized  in 
France,  that  his  genius  has  penetrated  and  transformed 
the  French  mind,  is  an  error.  He  is  known,  the  beauty 
and  grandeur  of  his  poetry  is  felt,  this  is  an  undoubted 
fact  and  a  happy  one.  There  is  no  reason  to  demand 
anything  more,  and  it  would  besides  be  asking  for  an 
impossibility  ;  all  the  care  in  the  world  will  not  make 
fine    olive   trees    grow    in    Scotland,   nor    fir    trees    in 


EPILOGUE  467 

Algeria.  It  would  be  a  great  misfortune  it  there  were 
to  remain  upon  earth  but  one  genius  and  but  one  race, 
with  no  more  of  those  contests  and  contrasts  which 
have  ever  been  such  a  powerful  incentive  to  progress. 
What  matters,  above  all,  is  that  the  genius  of  each  race 
should  reach  its  most  perfect  development  ;  and  that 
cannot  come  to  pass  if  its  nature  be  thwarted.  In  its 
walk  through  the  ages,  briars  may  impede  and  trammels 
may  arrest  its  progress  ;  neighbours,  rivals,  even 
enemies  may  prove  helpful  if  thev  cut  those  trammels, 
or  merely  point  them  out  ;  but  not  if  thev  take  their 
rival's  place. 

There  is  no  danger  in  the  present  case  ot  such  a 
substitution  ;  the  French  national  genius,  enamoured  of 
straight  lines,  is  too  strongly  tempered  to  be  metamor- 
phosed. Those  who  might  be  inclined  to  doubt  this 
have  only  to  go  and  see  Shakespeare  plaved  at  the 
Theatre  Fran^ais  or  at  the  Odeon,  particularly  on  a 
Sunday,  for  thev  will  then  see  an  average  audience 
which  does  not  form  its  opinions  on  formulas  learnt  in 
books.  They  will  observe  that  the  public  applauds  a 
scene,  a  tirade,  a  line,  a  striking  phrase,  a  tragic  episode, 
but  not  Shakespeare  in  his  entiretv,  nor  in  what  is 
most  personal  in  him.  This  public  listens  attentively, 
admires  sometimes,  but  without  being  carried  awav  ; 
it  is  in  the  presence  of  a  genius  too  different  from  its 
own  ;  the  differences  arouse  a  feeling  ot  uneasiness  as 
much  as  the  beauties  arouse  admiration  ;  the  audience 
is  moved  and  remains  in  doubt.  It  will,  on  the  other 
hand,  be  passionatelv  interested  in  Racine's  li  Iphigenie," 
or  even  in  a  translation  of  Sophocles'  "  CFdipus 
Tyrannus  "  ;   there  it   admires  evervthing,  it  no  longer 


468  SHAKESPEARE  IN  FRANCE 

cares  to  discuss,  it  knows  no  uncertainty,  it  is  under  the 
spell.  This  is  exactly  the  reverse  of  what  takes  place  in 
London.  Let  the  Comedie  Franchise  give  performances 
in  England,  there  the  tragic  repertoire  is  reduced  to  a 
minimum  ;  let  it  go  from  town  to  town  in  the  French 
provinces,  that  repertoire  is  the  one  to  draw  crowds, 
and  "  the  spectators  in  the  cheap  places  are  the  most 
numerous  and  the  ones  who  are  gripped  by  their  very 
heart-strings."  This  was  clearly  seen  at  the  time  of 
the  great  tournee  in  the  provinces  in  1893  :  "It  was 
then  the  tragedians'  turn  to  jeer  at  their  comrades 
the  comedians.  They  came  loaded  with  laurels  and 
bank  notes  ;  it  was  they  who  had  saved  the  situation. 
In  London  their  repertoire  had  been  curtailed  ;  they 
had  been  kept  away  from  the  public  as  much  as 
possible."  l 

The  innermost  substrata  of  the  national  nature  re- 
main the  same.  As  many  people  have  been  killed  on 
the  stage  in  Prance  since  1830  as  in  any  country  in 
the  world,  and  yet  significant  incidents  show  from  time 
to  time  that  there  is  still  a  difference.  "  A  kind  of 
rising  "  at  the  fatal  moment  is  no  longer  to  be  feared, 
it  is  true,  as  in  the  days  of  Ducis  ;  but  yet  pro- 
testations are  sometimes  heard.  At  a  performance  of 
"  Macbeth,"  at  the  Odeon,  lately,  when  Banquo  was 
about  to  be  killed,  a  lady  in  the  stalls  exclaimed,  "  Ah  ! 
I  cannot  see  that,"  and  went  out  ;  she  came  back 
when  the  deed  had  been  accomplished.  The  three 
unities  are    no   longer    imposed  on  any  one,  but  they 

1  Sarccy,  "  La  Comcdic  Franchise  en  voyage,"  fcuilleton  of  the 
"  Temps,"  August  7,  1893. 


EPILOGUE  469 

remain  an  ideal  to  which  authors  conform  with  alacrity 
whenever  the  subject  admits  of  it  ;  l  Augier  has  shown 
it  on  more  than  one  occasion.  Stage  alexandrines  con- 
tinue to  have  ardent  admirers  :  "  Contrarily  to  what 
is  generally  believed,  the  public  has,  riveted  in  its  very 
soul,  a  respect  and  love  for  verse  on  the  stage — for 
grand,  for  heroic  verse.  The  French  have  tragedy  in 
the  blood.  It  is  said  that  they  only  enjoy  minute  de- 
scriptions of  flat  and  vulgar  reality  ;  nothing  is  less  true. 
Throw  them  fine  alexandrines,  vibrating  and  sonorous, 
and  they  snatch  at  them,  Us  les  gobent ;  the  word  is 
Parisian  slang,  but  it  is  the  true  word."  2  The  "  Ham- 
let "  of  Dumas  and  Meurice,  which  is  still  acted  at  the 
Theatre  Francois,  is  entirely  written  in  alexandrines. 
Shakespeare  has  helped  to  break  the  old  fetters 
which,  grown  heavier  from  generation  to  generation, 
and  imposed  upon  everv  author  whatsoever  his  subject, 
had  at  length  stopped  all  movement.  He  has  helped 
to  open  the  gate  of  heaven  to  the  "  alouette  divine  " 
spoken  of  by  Hugo.  Upon  the  importance  of  his 
role  in  this  great  crisis  different  minds  may  have 
different  opinions  ;  that  he  had  a  role  no  one  will 
contest,  and  that  is  enough  to  justify  gratitude.  This 
loving  tribute   is   no  longer  grudged  him   in   France  ; 


1  "Je  vous  ferai  remarquer  que,  quoi  qu'on  pense  dc  ccs  regies 
fameuses  .  .  .  nous  voyons  que  de  nos  jours  merae,  quand  nos 
auteurs  dramatiques  veulent  obtenir  des  effets  plus  saissisants,  de  ces 
effets  qui  ne  nous  laissent,  comme  Ton  dit,  le  loisir  ni  des  reflechir 
ni  de  respirer,  il  commencent  par  enfermer  leurs  trois  ou  leurs  cinq 
actes  dans  un  meme  decor  et  par  resserrer  leur  action  dans  les  vingt- 
quatre  heures." — Brunetiere,  "Les  Epoques  du  The'atre    Francais." 

2  Sarcey,  "  Temps  "  of  March  7,  I  892. 


470  SHAKESPEARE  IX  FRANCE 

and  it  may  be  accorded  the  more  willingly,  in  that  no 
one  who  joins  in  it  is  expected  to  abjure  the  cult  of 
the  ancestors,  or  to  close  the  door  of  the  temple  on 
those  whom  France  will  never  weary  of  hearing  called 
The  Just. 


INDEX 


A 

Academy,  French,  addresses  Louis 
XIV.,  xvi,  113  fF.  ;  22;  its 
Dictionary,  74,  442  ;  and  the 
"  Cid,"  92  ;  152  ;  appealed  to 
on  the  subject  of  Shakespeare, 
354  fF.,  395  fF.  ;  awards  special 
honours  to  Voltaire,  393  ;  its 
dictionary  to  be  reformed,  397  ; 
Rutledge's  appeal  to,  400 
"  Les  Accidents,"  by  Colle,  273 
Acrobats,  English,  in  Paris,  51 
Actors  (and  actresses),  French,  on 
the  stage,  xiv  ;  English,  127, 
192;  French,  in  London,  131, 
468  ;  English  buried  in  West- 
minster, 204,  242  ;  French  and 
English,  293,  295  ft".  ;  rules 
for,  31 1  ;  English  in  Paris,  45  I, 
463.  See  Players 
Addison,  xviii,  62  ft.,  119,  165, 
167,    176,   184,   188,  209,  230, 

23 1.  238>  312,  +°+ 

"Adelaide  du  Guesclin,"  by  Vol- 
taire, 252 

iEschylus,  275,  325 

"  Agrippine,"  by  Cyrano,  79  ft"., 
248,  249 

Aicard,  J.,  464 

Albano,  painter,  350 

Albert,  P.,  438 

"Albion,"  by  St.  Amant,  129 


Albon,  comte  d',  xxii,  xxiv,  xxv, 

3°6,  3°7,  33 *»  3  5° 

"Alceste,"  bv  (Juinault,  226 

"Alcestes,"  bv  Euripides,  245 

Alembert,  d',  284,  366,  with 
Voltaire  against  Shakespeare, 
376  ft".  ;  a>  "Bertrand,"  388 

"All's  Well,"  278 

Allen,  cardinal,  7 

Amadis,  191 

"Amant  Loup-Garou  "  by  Collot 
d'Herbois,  414 

Amidor,  St.Sorlin's  "  Visionnaire," 
97  ff. 

Amyot,  397 

Ancients,  imitated  in  France  and 
in  England,  33  ft*.,  65  ft".  ;  ex- 
cessive imitation  of  the,  225  ; 
and  moderns,  330  ft".  ;  Voltaire 
on  the,  245 

Ancillon,  on  the  English,  123 

Andromeda,  1  27 

"  Andromaque,"      Racine's,     103, 

"  Andronic,"  by  Campistron,  169, 

179 
"Anglomane,"  1',  by  Saurin,   272, 

27+,  3+3,  4oS 
Anglomania,    31,    17",    186,    192, 
270  ft",  284  ft".  ;   its  counterpart 
in   London,   296  ;   Voltaire  on, 
3 So  ft". 


472 


IXDEX 


Anne  of  Austria,  Oueen,  xv 

"Annee  Litteraire  "  of  Freron, 
274,  276,  343,  395,  398 

"Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  Shake- 
speare's, 39 

Apelles,  41  2 

"Apologie   for  Poetrie,"  Sidney's, 

33 
"Appel  a  toutes  les  Nations,"  by 

Voltaire,  369 
"Arcadia,"      Sidney's,     translated 

into  French,    121 
Argenson,    d',    Marc    Rene,    157, 

268  ;    Rene    Louis,    267,    268, 

269,  270 
Argental,  count  d',  242,  310,  354, 

359,  375 
Ariosto,  26,  118 

Aristophanes,  245 

Aristotle,    33,    39,    65,    143,    334, 

"Arlequin  poli  par  1'amour,"  by 

Marivaux,  188 
"Armide,"  by  Ouinault,  xx,  225, 

226,  227 
Arnaud,  on  d'Aubignac,  95 
Arnaud,  abbe,  380 
Arnaud,  d',  see  Baculard. 
"Art   Poetique,"  of  Boileau,  105 

ft.;  of  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaye, 

31,  32. 
Arthur,  king,  1  27,  1  5  1 
"Astree,"  d'Urfe's,  103,  121,  306 
"Athalie,"     Racine's,     178,    232, 

278,  297,  369 
"  Attila,"  Corneille's,  245 
Aubignac,    abbe   d',    in   favour   of 

rules,  98  ft.,  226 
Aubigny,  d',  162 
Audran,  C,  xiii 
Auger,  398 


Aumont,  due  d',  398' 
Auvray,  on  Montchrestien,  48 
"Avare,"  Moliere's,  xxiii 
Aveline,  xi,  21 1 
Avril,  J.  J.,  427 

B 

Babouc,  Voltaire's,  242 

Bacon,   27,   30,  34,  35,  121,  166, 

176 
Baculard  d'  Arnaud,  322  ft.,  326 
Baillct,  176 
"  Bajazet,"     Racine's,      73,     166, 

H7i  337,  348 
Ballads,  English,  281 

Ballantyne,  A.,  204 

Balzac,  92ft",  112 

Bandcllo,  39 

"  Baptiste,"  by  Buchanan,  7 

Barbier,  J.,  printer,  8 

"  Barbier    de    Seville,"    by    Beau- 

marchais,  295,  322 
Barbin,  bookseller,  1  19 
Barclay,  Alex.,  10,  20 

"    .    J"  57 

Baretti,  on  Shakespeare  and  Vol- 
taire, j.00,  403 

"Barnveldt,"  by  La  Harpe,  320 

Barry,  Madame  du,  270 

Bartas,  du,  5,  18,  27,  28,  36 

Basnage,  168 

Baudoin,  121 

Bayle,  366 

Bear-baiting,  37,  137,  144 

"  Beatrice  ct  Benedict,"  by  Ber- 
lioz, 404 

Beauharnais,  Fanny  de,  318 

Beaumarchais,  272,  273,  295,  319, 
321,  342 

Beaumont  (and  Fletcher),  173, 
175,  176 


IXDEX 


473 


Beeverel,  136  ff,  1  52 
Behn,  Mrs.,  220,  341,  342 
Beljame,  on  Le  Tourneur,  358 
Bella,  Stephen  della,  xv 
Bellay,  J.  du,  7,  18,  30 
Bellerose,  plaver,  1 3 1 
Bellin,  281 
Belloy,  du,    120,   295,   297,   358, 

3<57,  37+ 

Belsunce,  Madame  do,  271 

Belyard,  Simon,  45 

Bembo,  26 

Benetrix,  28 

Bengesco,  245,  267,  369 

Berain,  227 

"Berenice,"  bv  Racine,  161,  by 
Thomas  Corneille,  226 

Bergerac,  Cvrano  de,  66  ;  sup- 
posed imitator  of  Shakespeare, 

79  ff- ;  2+8 

Berlioz,  on  Shakespeare,  4. 5  5 
Bernard,  J.,  on  England,  8 
Bernhardt,  Sarah,  464 
Berthelot,  365 
"Beverley"'    Saurin's,    320,    405, 

Napoleon  on,  321 
Beza,  38 
Bible,  English,  7 
"  Bienseances,"    102,     247,     2~3, 

406,  41 1  ff.,  424  ff,  434 
Bignon,  Jerome,  143 
Bilaine,  175 
Billard,  C,  45 
Binet,  C,  13  ff 
Blaeu,  J.,  1,  120 
Blair,  297 

Bocage,  Fiquet  du,  224 
Bocage,  Madame  du,  2S1 
Boccaccio,  1 19 
Bochecel,  J.,  12 
Boileau,     46,    84,    98,     1  1  1  ;     on 


Italian  and    Spanish    literature, 
119;  on  Cromwell,  I  24  ;   183, 
188,  229  237,   245,    296,   310, 
325,425,444 
Boismorand,  Cheron  de,  184 
Boisrobert,  abbe  de,  123 
Boissy,  de,  31,  185  ff,  269 
Bolingbroke,  204,  207,  255 
Bonaparte,    Napoleon,    309  ;     on 
••Beverlev"   321  ;    and    Ducis, 
415  ;  Lucien  and  Joseph,  2  "2 
Bonnefbn,  J.,  176 
Bonnet,  abbe,  2~5,  296 
Bonrepaus,  de,  136 
Bosse,  Abraham,  xii,  xiii,  xvii,  5  3, 

Bossuet    on  Corneille,   Lully  and 

the  stage,  1 1 1  ;   245,  284 
Boucher,  xxiii 
Bouchor,  464 

Boufflers,  Duchesse  de,  398 
Bouillon,  Duchesse  de,  xvii,  132 
Bounin,  G.,  46,  52,  78,  79 
Bourdeille,  F.  de,  1  7 
"Bourgeois"  comedy,  342 
Bourgogne,  Hotel    de,    36    ff,    ;  1 

ff,  69  ff,  85 
Boursault,  48 
Boyer,    A.,  xviii,    131,    169,    I -o, 

1--.  230 
Bovle,   Roger,  earl  of  Orrerv,  46, 

164,  168 
Brancas,  marquis  de,  on  "Romeo," 

+  3° 
Brantome,   visits  England,  16  ff; 

29,  36 
Brasey,    Moreau   de,   136  ff,  165, 

170 
Briot,  Pierre,  166 
Brissot,  2~6 
••  Britannicus,"  Racine's,  104,  24- 


474 


INDEX 


British  Museum,  145,  148 
Brizard,     actor,     frontispiece,    xi, 

xxvi,  389,  392,  431 
Broglie,  comte  de,    122,  204,  due 

de,  on  Shakespeare,  456 
Brossette,  444 
Browne,  player,  52 
Browne,  Sir  T.,  166 
Brunei,  445 
Brunetiere,  469 
"Brutus"    Voltaire's,     248,    249, 

250,  251,  255 
Bryan,  Sir  F.,  4,  60 
Buchanan,  6,  7,  30,  33,  60,  132 
Buckingham,  duke  of,  162 
Budee,  6,  30 
Buffon,  270,  374 
Bunyan,  143 
Burnet,  166 
Butini,  41  2 
Butler,  Samuel,  183 
Byron,  452 


Calas,  296 

"  Caliste,"  by  Colardeau,  326 

Cambridge,  9 

Cambry,  28  1 

Camden,  30,  281 

Campenon,  41 5,  436 

Campistron,  169,  179 

Canaletto,  xxvi,  377 

Capilupi,  26 

Carlisle,  Countess  of,  123 

Carlos,    don,    son    of    Philip     II., 

169 
Carmail,  comte  de,  87 
Caroline,  queen,  214,  215 
Carre,  Jerome,  alias  Voltaire,  369 
Cassivelaunus,   175 


"  Castle    of    Otranto,"  Walpole's, 

369,  373 

Castro,  Guillcm  de,  117 

"  Catherine  and  Petruccio,"  Gar- 
rick's,  301,  452 

"  Catilina,"  by  Crebillon,  236; 
by  Tronchin,  368 

"  Catiline,"  by  Ben  Jonson,  162 

"  Cato,"  Addison's,  xviii,  165,  170, 

171.  l84,  23°>  312 
"Caton  d'Utiquc,"  by  Deschamps, 

230,   231 
Catuelan,  comte  de,  357 
Cauchon,  bishop,  102 
Cavalier  poets,  in  France,  130 
Cecil,  lord  high  Treasurer,  120 
"  Centenaires    de    Corneille,"   les 

deux,  by  Cubieres,  353 
Centlivre,  Mrs.,  334,  335,  342 
Cerisoles,  battle  of,  17,  28 
Cervantes,  29,  1  31 
Chabanncs,  Rochon  de,  447 
Chalon,  de,  1  I  7 

Chamberlaync,  Ed.,  120,  144,  147 
Champmesle,  actress,  315 
Chantelouve,  F.  de,  45,  48  ff. 
Chapelain,  in  favour  of  prose  and 

blank  verse,  77  ;  84,  105 
Chapelle,  J.  de  la,  106 
Chapman,  G.,  45 
Chapoton,  250,  264 
Chappelain,  Genevieve,  121 
Chappuzeau,  120,  136  ft".,  163  ft"., 

311 
Charles  II.  Stuart,  5,  130  ft",   151 
Charles  VII.  of  France,  4 
„        VIII.       „  4 

IX.  „  58 

„       X.  „  449 

"Charles  IX.,"  by  M.  J.  Chenier, 

44  > 


IXDEX 


475 


Chamois,  de,  419 

Charron,  Pierre,  397 

Chartier,  Alain,  4,  20 

Chastellux,  chevalier,  then  mar- 
quis de,  305,  379,  404,  407, 
his  "Romeo,"  408  ;  440  ;  coun- 
tess de,  306 

Chateaubriand,  on  Mrs.  Siddons, 
426,  on  Shakespeare,  443 

Chateaufort,  actor,  446 

Chateauvieux  (Come  de  la  Gambe 
called),  39 

Chaucer,    3,    119,    175,   183,  277, 

4°5 
Chautepie,  G.  de,  366 
Chautron,     Ch.,     French  player, 

52 
Chenier,  M.  J.,  441   ft*. 
Chesterfield,  214,  284,  on  French 

and    English    plays,    299,    333, 

335>  424 
Chevrette,  "Romeo"  performed 

at  the  chateau  de  la,  408  ff". 
Childebrand,  107 
Choiseul,  Due  de,  275  ;  duchesse 

de,  370 
Choruses  in  plays,  47  ff*. 
Chretien,  Florent,  6 
Cibber,  334,  340 
Cicero,  442 
"  Cid  "  le,  by  Corneille,   73,  92, 

111,  112,  117,  368,  376 
"Cinna,"  Corneille's,  247 
Clairon,     Mile.,    xx,     239,     241, 

292,     296  ;      tries     to     reform 

theatrical  dress,  315  ft*. 
Clarendon,  earl  of,  167 
"  Clarissa,"  Richardson's,  268,  on 

the  French  stage,  317,  318 
Claveret,  Jean,  101 
Clement,  N.,  170,  173,  176 


Clement,  P.,  182,    186,   237,  400 

Cleveland,  the  poet,  1  76 

"  Clitandre,"  Corneille's,  96,  1  18 

Clopton,  Hugh  de,  1 

Cochin,  C.  N.,  xxii,  288,  289 

Coffee-houses,  French  and  Eng- 
lish, xvii,  148  ff".,  191 

Colardeau,  326,  349 

Colbert,  175 

Colignv,  Odet  de,  25 

Colle,  237,  244,  252,  256,  260, 
272,  273,  288  ;  and  Garrick, 
289  ff" ;  and  Ducis,  420  ;  426 

Collier,  Jeremv,  167,  168,  169, 
176 

"  Colligni  "  tragedie  de,  by  Mat- 
thieu,  45,  50 

Collins,  J.  Churton,  204 

Columbus,  466 

"  Comedie  sans  Comedie,"  bv 
Ouinault,  226 

Comedies,  English,  laden  with 
incidents,  218;  French  lar- 
moyant,  237  ft". ;  3 1  7 fF.  ;  French, 
adapted,  334,  English  too 
coarse,  34",  Shakespeare's, 
adapted,  413  ff". 

"Comedy  of  Errors,"  39 

Cominges,  comte  de,  122,  132, 
152 

Commonwealth,  123  ft. 

"  Comte  de  Cominges  "  le,  bv 
Baculard,  325 

"Comte  d'  Essex,"  le,  by  La 
Calprenede,  78 

Confidants,  45,  in  Voltaire,  391  ; 
in    Ducis  419  ft".  ;  in    Mercier, 

44° 
Congreve,  192,  200,  212 

Conquest,  the,  its  literarv  con- 
sequences, 3  I 


476 


INDEX 


Constant,  baron  de,  370 

Conti  (Natalis  Comes),  9 

Conti,  Prince  de,  273 

Cooking,  in  England,  9,  126 

Coote,  H.  C,  57 

Coquelin,  464 

"Corinne,"  by  Madame  de  Stael, 

316,  426,  447 
"Coriolan,"      le      veritable,      by 

Chapoton,  250,  264 
Corneille,  J.  B.,  painter,  xvi 

„  P.,  xiv,    73,  and  rules, 

92    ft";    98,     103,    ill,    knows 

Spanish,  1 17,  and  Italian,  117; 

119,  137,  170,   178,   225,   226, 

244,  245,   249,   269,  274,  302, 

333>  3  3  5^  336>  34°.  3  53.  3  54. 

36°>  365>  368,  369>  373,  374^ 
r>  376,  383,  387,  395,  405 
Corneille,  T.,  137,  226 
"  Cornelie,"     by     Gamier,      34  ; 

by   President   Henault,   267 
Costar,  i  32 

Cotgrave,  Randle,  2  1  ft'.,  1  74 
Coulisse,    use    and    abuse    of  the, 

231,   251 
Coulon,  1  29 
Coustou,  xxii,   302 
Cowley,  Abr.,  130,  176,  177 
Coyer,  abbe,  275,  281 
Coypel,  xv,  xviii,  I  59 
Craggs,  James,  204 
Crashaw,  175 
Crebillon,  the  elder,  235  ft'.,  244, 

312,  322 
Cressonnois,  464 
Cromwell,  O.,  124,  132 
"  Cromwell  "   by  Crebillon,  236  ; 

by  Victor  Hugo,  140,  143,  232, 

3'9i  455^  459 
Cubiercs-Palme/.eaux,  le  chevalier 


de,  xxiv,    276,    318,  319,   341, 
and  Shakespeare,  342  ft".  ;   359 
"  Cymbelinc,"  447 

D 

Daly,  his  troupe,  463 

Dancing,  English,  127 

Daniel,  Samuel,  175 

Dante,  117,  437,  438,  426,  452 

Davenant,  1  52,  232 

David,  painter,  31  ],  442 

Declamation,       theatrical,       312, 

3  1 6  ft. 
Deftand,  Madame  du,    297,   298, 

316,  329,  370,  398 
Defoe,  1  84,  267 
Delacroix,    Eugene,    xxviii,    452, 

456,  460,  461 
Delair,  464 
Deleyre,  431,  436 
Delille,  abbe,  302,  on  Shakespeare, 

322  ;   326 
Denham,  Sir  John,  176,  183 
Denis,  Madame,   xxvi,    241,    305, 

'389 
Denon,  Vivant,  xxiv 
Descartes,  on  poetry,  108 
Deccazeaux-Desgrangcs,  244 
Deschamps,  E.,  3 

F.,  231 
Dcsfontaines,  abbe,  182,  319 
Desforges,  Choudard,  318,  406 
Desmarets,  see  St.  Sorlin 
Desportcs,  Philip,  18 
Destouches,  Nericault,    188,  232, 

238  ft".,  267 
Dialogues,  Franco-English,  177 
Dictionary-rics,     of    the     French 

Academy,  xvi,  expurgated,  115; 

discussions  on  the,  153  ft".  ;  I  8 1  ; 

to     be     reformed,    397  ;     442  ; 


tXDEX 


477 


Anglo-French,  20  ff.,  174,  177  ;   1 
historical,       on       Shakespeare, 
215,  366 
[Diderot,    on    Richardson,      268  ; 
287,    316,    on   the     "serious" 
genre,    319  ;     320,    333,    342, 

357>  359*  365»  366>  on    Shake- 
speare, 368,  on  Ducis,  420  ff., 

424;  43° 
W  Dissipateur,"  Le,  by  Destouches, 

I     H1 

jDogs,  French,  in  the  Tower,  17 

Dolivar,  xx 

Dondey-Dupre,  277 

"Don  Japhet  d'Armenie,"    Scar- 
ron's,  219 

Donne,  John,  176 

"Don  Quixote,"  119 
I  "Don  Sebastian,"   Dryden's   192 
'  Dorat,  xxiii 
!  Dorchain,  464 

Dorez,  L.,   13 

Doucet,  C,   380 

Douin,  captain,  411   ff.,  453 

Dramas,  English,  bloody,  56  ; 
Chappuzeau  on,  152,  154, 
compared  with  French  ones,  62 
ff,  158  ;  French,  influenced  by 
Italy,  Spain,  and  the  Ancients, 
32  ff.  ;  classical,  in  England, 
35,  65  ff".  ;  in  France,  36  ff"; 
on  same  subjects  as  Shake- 
speare's, 39  ff.  ;  French  and 
English  national,  44  ft",  265 
ff,  295,  318  ;  Shakespearean,  by 
Mercier,  439  ff,  in  English  on 
the  French  stage,  51  ff,  451. 
454  ff.  ;  French,  a  new  genre, 
318  ff,  344  ff.  ;   Spanish,    73 

"  Dramaturgy-  "  Lessing's,   399 
Drant,  Thomas,   59 


Drayton,    175 

Dresses,  in  Louis  XIV.  style, 
107  ff.  ;  for  tragic  actors, 
3ii    ff. 

Drinking,  in  England,    10,    125 

"Drummer"  of"  Addison,  238 
performed  in  Paris,  452 

Dryden,  62,  161,  164,  162,  pre- 
ferred to  Shakespeare,  177  ; 
183,      192,      232,      334,     340, 

4H  . 
Du   Bail,  43 

Du   Bos,    143,    179,  250,  311    ff". 

Duchemin,  actor,  315 

Du  Chesne,  118 

Ducis,  xxvii,  296,  358,  359,  398, 
his  adaptations  of  and  venera- 
tion for  Shakespeare,  his  cha- 
racter and  literary  ideal,  414 
ft".  ;  docs  not  know  English, 
427  ;  his  success,  432  ;  446, 
460,  468 

Duclos,    actress,  315 

Dumas,     Alexandre,     p'ere,     452, 

45  5,  459*  464>  469 
Dumas,  Alexandre,  fi/s,  185 
"Dunciade,"  Palissot's,  343 
Duport,  P.,  459 

Durand-Lapie,  on  St.  Amant,  1  24 
Duras,  Marechal  de,  374,  376 
Duval,  Alexandre,  447 


"  Ecossaise,"  1',  by   Voltaire,    185 

246,  256,  317 
"  Ecossoise,"  1',  "ou   le  desastre," 

bv  Montchrestien,  48 
"  Edouard,"  by  La  Calprencde,  78 
"  Edouard  III.,"  by  Gresset,  264 
Edward  VI.,  9 
Effen,  van,  168 


478 


tttDEX 


Eisen,  xxii,  313 

Elisce,  Father,  379 

Elizabeth,  queen,  6  ;  praised  by 
J.  Grevin,  12  ;  by  Ronsard, 
14  ff.  ;  by  Brantome,  17,  the 
great  shepheardesse,  18  ;  her 
translations,  19  ;  her  dramatic 
tastes,  35  ;  put  on  the  stage, 
45>  I24 

Ellys,  I.,  197 

"  Encyclopedic,"  2,  244,  3  I  5  ;  on 
Shakespeare,  366 

"Engagement  temeraire,"  1',  by  J. 
J.  Rousseau,  409 

England,  early  visitors  to,  7  ff.  ; 
land  of  plenty,  152  ;  land  of 
revolutions,  1 66  ;  described  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  1  23  ff., 
in  the  eighteenth,  181  ff. 

English  language,  9  ;  learnt  by 
merchants,  23  ;  Panurge's,  23  ; 
generally  ignored  under  Louis 
XIV.,  1 1 6  ff.,  ignored  by  guide- 
book makers,  and  by  ambas- 
sadors, 122,  by  the  "Journal 
des  Savants,"  122;  a  patois, 
according  to  Saint-Amant,  1  26  ; 
grows  anyhow,  152  ff.  ;  works 
in,  translated  into  French,  120 
ff,  199,  267,  271  ff,  184;  in 
French  libraries,  173  ff,  270  ff. ; 
difficulty  of  pronouncing,  270  ; 
popular  in  Paris  salons,  270  ff.  ; 
learnt  by  Prevost,  191,  de- 
serves to  be  learnt,  200, 
known  by  Voltaire,  200,  383  ; 
learnt  in  France,  267,  Patu 
writes  in,  280  ;  misspelt,  279. 
See  Literature 

English,  the,  their  qualities  and 
defects,    10  ff,   their    ferocity, 


1 1,  123,  140,  192  ;  their 
militia,  118;  immoderate, 
143;  commit  suicide,  125, 
143  ;  freethinkers  among 
them,  147  ;  think  profoundly, 
169,  184  ff,  187  ff,  271  ff.  ; 
their  manners  compared  to 
French  ones,  185  ff,  288  ; 
their  genius  according  to  Vol- 
taire, 209  ;  enthusiastically  re- 
ceived in  Paris,  284  ff. 

"  Epicharis    et    Neron,"   by    Le- 

,  gouve,  446 

Epinay,    Madame    d',    255,     305, 
408,  409 
„        Mr.  d',  408,  409 

"  Eryphile,"  Voltaire's,  250,  251, 
252,  260  ff. 

Estandoux,  C.  d',  416 

Estienne,  H.,  26 
R.,  6 

Ette,  Mile,  d',  408 

"  Eugenie,"      by      Beaumarchais, 
272,  273,  295,  321,  343 

Euripides,    126,    177,    245,    268, 

373 
Evelyn,  John,  164 
Expilly,  abbe,  196,275,  280 


Faber,  J.,  197 

Faguet,  E.,  65 

Fairfax,  I  24 

"Fair  Penitent,"  Rowe's,  326 

"Fairies,"  the,  by  Garrick,  301 

Falkener,  207,  242 

Falstaff,  57,  219,  414 

"  Falstaff,"  by  Meurice,  460 

Farquhar,  G.,  192 

Fashions,  French  and  English,  II, 

274-  329*  3  5  + 


IXDEX 


479 


Fauchet,  Claude,  31,  32 
Faucit,  Miss  Helen,  463 
I  Fausses     Infidelites,"     Le~,     by 

Barthe,  4. 1 4. 
"  Femmes     Savantes,"     Les,      by 

Moliere,  287 
Fenelon,  119,  131,  153,  154,  181 
Festeau,  P.,  137,  143 
Fielding,  220,  267,  334 
Fievee,  445 

Figg,  James,  195,  197  . 
Fisher,  W.,  193 
Flaubert,    459  ;    on    Shakespeare, 

+63 
Fletcher,  John,  174,  175,  176 
Fleury,    Mile.,  as   Ophelia,  xxvii, 

"  Florizel  and  Perdita,"  Garrick's, 

301 
Fontainebleau,     plays    performed 

at,  xvi.,  55  ff.,  343  ff. 
Fontaine-Malherbe,  357 
Fontenelle,  185 
Fops,  148 
Fouquet,  financier,  173  ft". 

„         painter,  69 
Fournier,  P.,  sculptor,  xxii 
France,    sorrow    at     leaving,    13. 

See   Drama,    Fashions,   French, 

Literature,      Shakespeare, 

Theatre,  Verses 
Francis  I.  of  France,    5,    18,    19, 

266 
"Francois     II.,"     by      President 

Henault,  265  ft". 
"  Francois  a  Londres,"  Le,  by  de 

Boissy,  31,  185,  186 
Francomania  in  London,  19 
Franklin,  B.,  388 
French  language   used  in  London, 

19  ft",  30  ft",  298,  refined,   22  ; 


Ronsard  on  the,  25  ft".,  its 
"  precellence,"  27  ;  its  univer- 
sality, 119  ft".,  298,  405; 
pruned  by  the  Academv,  152 
ft".  ;  230  ;  Voltaire  on  the, 
397  ;  proposed  emancipation 
of  the,  450 

French,  the,  their  ideal  in  art  and 
life,  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
107  ft".  ;  their  manners  and 
tastes  in  the  eighteenth,  310  ; 
how  influenced  bv  Shakespeare, 
466  ft". 

Freron,  E.  C,  274,  276,  279,  317 

Freron,  Jj/r,  343 

Fresne,  Trichet  du,  174 

"  Frivolite,"  La,  by  de  Boissy,  269 

Furnivall,  F.  J.,  170 


"  Gabinie,"  by  Brueys,  179 
Gaguin,  R.,  4 
Gainsborough,  xxiii 
Galiani,  abbe,  270 
Gallenberg,  comte  de,  447 
Games    in    England,    10,    12    ft", 

"•Gamester,"  E.  Moore's,  320 

"Gammer  Gurton,"  366 

Garat,  287,  293 

Garguille,  Gaultier,  xv 

Gamier,  Robert,  34  ft",  36,  39,  66 

Garrick,  xxii,  xxvii,  273  ft"., 
279  ft",  288  ft".,  his  portrait, 
289  ;  at  Colle's  house,  291  ; 
opinion  of  Marmontel  on,  292, 
of  Madame  Necker,  293,  of 
Beaumarchais,  295,  would  like 
to  play  in  Paris,  293  ;  a  power 
in  France,  294,  appealed  to  by 
French   actors,    295    ft",   puts  a 


480 


INDEX 


play  of  dc  Belloy's  on  the  stage, 
297  ;  adores  but  remodels 
Shakespeare,  300,  333,  334, 
builds  a  temple  to  him,  301  ; 
as  Beverley,  320  ;  359;  and 
the  Jubilee,  362  ff.  ;  and  the 
grave-diggers,  384;  on  Voltaire, 
399  ;  411  ;  and  Ducis,  416,  as 
Hamlet,  417,  433 

Gascoignc,  G.,  20 

Gaskell,  Miss,  actress,  451 

Gautier,  Theophilc,  on  the  ro- 
mantic period,  453  ff.,  466 

"Genie  du  Christianisme,"  by 
Chateaubriand,  444 

Geoffroy,  critic,  459 

George,  St.,  kills  the  Dragon  at 
Southwark,  1  37 

Gerland,  45 

Germanicus,  79 

Ghosts  in  plays,  48  ft'.,  49,  257, 
322  ft'.,  339,  349 

Gibbon,  on  French  tragedies, 
284  ;  294  ;  writes  an  essay  in 
French,  298  ;  sees  Voltaire  on 
the  stage,  300  ;  on  Shakespeare, 
300 

"Gil  Bias,"  by  Lesagc,  297 

Gille,  of  the  fair,  xxv,  370  ft'. 

Gladiators,  English,  144 

Gleon,  marquise  de,  305,  408, 
studies  Shakespeare,  41 1 

Globe  theatre,  37 

Gliick,  and  Shakespeare,  445 

Goethe,  452 

Goldoni,  xx,  3  1  7 

Goldsmith,  278 

Gomicourt,  Damiens  de,  274 

"  Gorboduc,"  by  Sackvillc  and 
Norton,  16,    33,    35,  217,    366, 

383  ff.,  387 


Gossec,  414 

Gothic,     the,     and      Shakespeare, 

444,  in  favour  during  the   1830 

period,  453 
Gothism,  36,  87 
Goujet,  abbe,  2  16 
Goulard,  Simon,  27 
Gounod,  464 
Gower,  J.,  175 
Gower,  lord  Ronald,  xxii 
Gozzi,  count,  276 
Gozzoli,  Benozzo,  xiii,  67,  69 
Grafton,  duke  of,  196 
Grammars,   Anglo-French,   20  ft"., 

140  ft'. 
Gramont,  III,  131 

„         comtesse  dc,  144. 
"Grand  Cyrus,"  Scudery's,  270 
Gravclot,  xx,  xxi,  xxiv,  xxvi,  253, 

261,  327,  329 
Greene,  Robert,  30,  40,  52,  316 
Greenwich  described,  203,  205 
Gresset,  264 

Greville,  Fulke,  lord  Brooke,  46 
Grcvin,   Jacques,     12   ft".,    16,    29, 

36,  40,  46,  51,  66,  213 
Grimm,  baron  de,  296,   357,  365, 

^  398>  424>  43° 
Grisettes,  282 
Gros-Guillaume,  xiv 
Grosart,  Dr.,  21 

Grosley,  196,  199,    280,  295,  302 
Guarini,  1 19 

Gucht,  van  der,  xxiii,  323,  329 
Guernier,  du,  1  71 
Guiard,  Madame,  427 
Guide-books,   for  England,    8   ff, 

129,  136  ft",  275,  280  ff. 
Guilbert,  abbe,  on  plays,  xii 
Guillaume,  fool  of  Henri  IV.,  56 
"Guillaumc  Tell,"  Lemicrrc's,  407 


IXDEX 


48i 


Guilleragues,  de,  on  Greece,  1 1 8 
|     Guilpin,  1 8 
|    Guise,  due  de,  28 
j     "  Guisiade,"  la,  by    P.   Matthieu, 

47 
Guizot,  399,  4.54 
"Gulliver,"  182,  184,  187,  188 
"Guysien,"  le,  by  Belyard,  45 

H 

Hall,  J.,  120 

Hambleton,  xxiii 

"  Hamlet,"  Shakespeare's,  xxiii, 
xxvii,  xxviii,  79,  97,  183,  192, 
208  ff.,  216,  217,  250,  252,  256, 

259»  3OI>  32°,  327>  329>  339' 
340,   369,   370,  373,  375,  384, 

+24>  453»  +55*  464>  in  Paris, 
452;  before  Louis  -  Philippe, 
463;  Ducis',  415  ff.,  429, 
437  ;  Louis  Henry's,  447  ; 
Dumas  and  Meurice's,  460  ff, 
469 

Hanotaux,  G.,  57 

Haraucourt,  464 

Hardy,  Alex.,  xiv,  40  ff,  66,  69  ff. 

Harrison,  W.,  9,  138 

Harvey,  ladv,  132 

Hatin,  168 

Hayman,  xxiii,  xxvi,  329 

Heine,  105,  463 

"  Helene "  (de  Surgeres),  Ron- 
sard's  Sonnets  to,  58 

Henault,  President,  265  ff,  288 

Henri  II.  of  France,  45 

„      HI-         „        45 

„      IV.  „         xii,  5, 29,49, 

55  ff:,  343,45°  . 
"Henriade,"  Voltaire's,  20J.,  358, 

374 
Henry  VIII.,  16  ff,  19,  28,  31,  78 


"  Henry  V.,"  Shakespeare's,  247 
"  Henry  VI.,"   Shakespeare's,  45, 

183,  266 
Herbert,  G.,  176 
Herder,  454 
Heroard,  55 
Herod,  king,  43 
Heylin,  175 
Hevwood,  Jasper,  34 
"Hilas     et     Silvie,"     by     R.     de 

Chabannes,  414 
Hobbes,  1  52 

Hogarth,  xxiii,  xxvi,  326,  320,  323 
Holbach,  baron  d',  359 
Holland,  lord,  123 
Holyband,  see  St.  Lien 
Homer,    4,    119,    17",   26S,  277, 

380,400,  446,459 
Hondius,  J.,  xi 
Hooper,  John,  24 
Horace,  translated  by  B.  Jonson, 

bv  Queen  Elizabeth,  by  Drant, 

35/59 ;  65,  177 

"Horace,"  Corneille's,  315,  336 

Howe,  general,  391 

Howell,  J.,  22,  119 

Huber,  xx 

Hue,  Father,  129 

Hugo,  Victor,  92,  222,  232,  263, 

3»9*   325,   343^   452>   +55*  on 
Shakespeare,  459,  469 
Humanity,  xxiv,    318    ff,  330  ff, 

368>  423 

Hume,    27S,    in    Paris,  2S7  ;     on 

Shakespeare,  299 

I 

"  Ibrahim,"  Scudery's,  84 
"  He  de  la  Raison,"  1',  Marivaux's, 
186 


3: 


482 


IXOEX 


"  Illusion  Comiquc,"  l',Corneille's, 

118 
"  Imogones,"  Dcjaurc's,  447 
Independents,  literary,  66   ft.,  83, 

derided  by  St.  Sorlin,  97  ft". 
"  Indian      Emperor,"      Dryden's, 

164 
Ingleby,  Dr.,  170 
Ingres,  and  Shakespeare,  459 
"  Iphigenie,"  Racine's,  103,467 
"Irene,"  Voltaire's,  391  ff". 
Italians,    imitated    in    France,    4, 
18    ff".  ;    their  pronunciation  of 
English,  9  ;   their  language   and 
literature  studied  by  :   Madame 
de  Sevigne,  1  16,  Corncille,  I  17, 
Racine,     118,     Boileau,     119  ; 
play  in    Paris,    1 58 

J 
James  IV.  of  Scotland,  45 

„       V.  „  5 

James  VI.  oi  Scotland,  1.  of  Eng- 
land, 18,  28,  58 
Janin,  J.,  456 
Jaquet,  alias  Grenoble,  xii 
Jascuy,  S.,   14 

Jaucourt,  chevalier  dc,  2,  366 
"  Jean-sans-tcrre,"  by  Ducis,  415 
"Jephtes,"  by  Buchanan,  6 
Joan  of  Arc,  on  the  stage,  44  ft"., 

1 01   ft". 
Jodellc,  36,  48  ft".,  66,  137 
Johnson,  Charles,  338 
Johnson,  Dr.  S.,  366,  369 
[onson,    Ben,    10 ;     his    dramatic 
ideal,  34,    48,    51,   in    Paris,  57 
ff".  ;    on    Shakespeare,    95  ;    St. 
Amanton,  126;    162,174,175, 
278 
Jordan,  2  1  2 


"Journal    Anglais"     on     English 

literature  and  Shakespeare,  277 
"Journal      Litteraire"     of      the 

Hague,    on    English    literature, 

183   ft". 
"Journal  des  Savants,"  167,  175  ; 

mentions     Shakespeare,      177  ; 

181,    182,   276 
"Journal  de  Trevoux,"  167,  276  ; 

on  La    Place  and  Shakespeare, 

224 
Jove,  Paul,  3  1 
Julienne,  cook  of  Ducis,  at"  Ham- 

let/' 437  ff". 
"  Julius  Cassar,"  Shakespeare's,  39, 

207,    219,    246,  247,  250,  251, 

442.      See  "  Mort  de  Cesar  " 
Jullevillc,  P.  de,  35 
Junker,  399 

K 

Kean,  plays  in  Paris,  455,  456 
Kemble,  Ch.,  in  Paris,  455 
"King  Lear,"  Shakespeare's,  280, 

293,    301,    adapted    by    Ducis, 

41  5,  426  ff".,  430 
Kyd,  Thomas,  35 

L 

La  Boullaye  le  Gouz,  129 
La  Bruyerc,   106,  1  16 
La  Calprenede,  65,  78 
Lacepede,  comte  de,  435 
La  Chapelle,  J.  de,  106 
La  Chaussee,  237  ff".,  317,  344 
La  Chesnayc  des  Bois,  268 
La  Condamine,  196 
La  Coste,  282 
Lacroix,  A.,  2,  447 
La  Fontaine,  xvii,  84,  125,  132  ft., 
139,  151,  169,  183,  225,  388 


IXDEX 


4*3 


La    Fosse,    1 68,    169,    220,    252, 

338 
Lagrenee  Ji/s,  painter,  419 
La  Guernie,  277 
La   Harpe,    295,    318,    320,    3+4, 

354^  366,  375,  376,  380,  387, 
399,  400,  404,  405,413,432, 

439  . 
Lamartine,  272 

La  Mocraye,  de,  1  37 

La     Motte-Houdard,    231,     232, 

245i    367 

Lancelot,  Claude,  118 

Languages,  German,  32,  Italian 
27,  Spanish  27,  29,  various,  in 
England,  30,  foreign,  25  fF.  ; 
see  English,  French,  Latin 

Languet,  Hubert,  60 

La  Place,  translator  of  Shake- 
speare, 220,  271,  272,  297,  301, 

357,  423 
La  Porte,  abbe  de,  186 
Largilliere,  xix,  201 
Larmoyant  comedies,  237  fF. 
La  Roche,  de,  182 
La  Rochelle,  Nee  de,  318 
Larrey,  165,  166 
Larroumet,  G.,  1  1  1 
La   Serre,  Puget  de,   40  fF.,  69  fF 

"8    . 
La  Taille,  J.  de,  33 

Latin,  in  England,  26,  30  ;  verses 
in,  by  Addison,  118;  sub- 
stratum in  French  minds,  465 

La  Tour,  de  Serre  de,  280,  281, 
282 

Launcelot  of  the  Lake,  1  1  1 

Lauraguais,  comte  de,  255,  256 

"Laure,"  by  Rotrou,  81  fF. 

Laurent,  M.,  70 

La  Yalette,  cardinal  de,  87 


La  Valliere,  Duchesse  de,  287 
"  Lear,''  see  "  King  Lear  " 
Le   Blanc,   abbe,  on    Shakespeare, 
219    fF.  ;     237,    260,    270,    his 
sham  war   against  Shakespeare, 

33°  ff- ;  437 

Le  Clerc,  166,  168 

Lee,  Sidney,  xxii,  79 

Legouve,  citizen,  446 

Lehman,  painter,  460 

Leicester,  earl  of,  praised  bv 
Ronsard,    14 

Le  Kain,  242,  296,  302,  tries  to 
reform  dress  and  delivery  on 
stage,   316  ;   375 

Lemierre,  407 

Le  Notre,  152,  409 

Le  Pautre,  xvi 

Le  Pays,  136  fF.,  164 

Le  Prieur,  xxii,  xxiv,  xxv 

Le  Roz,  344 

Lery,  Jean  de,  25 

Lcsage,  G.  L.,  136  fF,  14-  fF.,  1  5  3 

Lescure,  28  1 

Lespinasse,  Mile,  de,  287 

Lessing,  399 

Leti,  Gregorio,  165 

Le  Tourneur,  xxv,  277,  trans- 
lates Shakespeare,  354  fF,  criti- 
cised by  Voltaire,  357  fF,  bv 
Beljame,  358  ;  successive  in- 
stalments of  his  work,  397  fF  ; 
corrected  by  Guizot,  454 

"  Lettres  d'un  Francois,"  by  Abbe 
Le  Blanc,  219,  270,  337  fF. 

"  Lettres  Philosophiques,"  bv 
Yoltaire,  179,  180,  183,  186, 
2CO  fF.,   216,   383 

Ligne,  Princesse  de,  39S 

Lillo,  237,  320,  439 

Linacre,  6 


484 


INDEX 


Lingee,  Ch.,  xxv 

Linguct,  276 

Lion,  H.,  25  1 

Lionne,  Hugucs  dc,  1 1 1 

Literature,  English,  long  unknown 
in  France,  18  ff.,  60  ft".  ;  tableau 
of,  by  Du  Bartas,  27  ;  French, 
known  in  England,  18  ff.  ; 
English,  opinion  of  Chappuzeau 
on,  152  ;  French  knowledge  of, 
in  the  eighteenth  century,  181  ff, 
267  ;  French  influence  on,  296 

Livry,  Marquis  de,  157 

Locke,  166,  167 

Lodge,  Thomas,  1 8 

London,  compared  to  Paris,  9  ; 
12  ;  gaieties  under  Charles  If., 
1  1 1 

"  London    Merchant,"   by    L:llo, 

2 37,  3 2°>  439 

Lorris,  G.  dc,  20 

Louis  XII.,  5 

Louis  XII I.,  at  the  play,  xv,  53 
ft".  ;   93,  264 

Louis  XIV.,  5,  his  times,  61  ff, 
receives  the  Academy's  Dic- 
tionary, 113;  225,  266,  306, 
360,  384 

Louis  XVI.,  270,350,  358  ff,  429, 

++1 
Louis  XVIII.,  449 

Louis-Philippe,  463 

Love,   in  plays,  Boilcau  on,    106, 

Bossuet  id.,  Ill,  Napoleon,  id., 

321 
'■  Love's    Contrivance,"  by    Mrs. 

Centlivre,  334,  335 
Lovelace,  Richard,  130 
"  Lucrece     Borgia,"      by      Victor 

Hugo,   ^63 
Lulli,   ill,  112 


"  Lutrin,"  le,  by  Boileau,  119 
Lydgate,  175 
Lyly,  the  Euphuist,  366 
Lyndesay,  Sir  David,  5,  1  3  ft. 

M 

Mac  Ardell,  J.,  417 

"  Macbeth,"   Shakespeare's,  xxiii, 

96,    118,    216,  226,    247,   280, 

291,    292,    with    dances,    161  ; 

346,  447  ;  at   the  Odeon,  468  ; 

Ducis's,  415,  426,  433 
"  Machabees,"  les,by  La  Motte,2  3 1 
Macready,  actor,  in  Paris,  455 
Magdalene,  Oucen,  5 
Magnin,  Ch.,  on  Shakespeare,  455 

ft". 
Mahelot,  L.,  xiv,  xv,  70  ft".,  96. 
Maintenon,  Madame  de,  144,  170 
Mairct,  J.  de,  xiv,  62,  84  ff. 
Maizeaux,  des,  162 
Major,  John,  5 
Malebranche,  184 
Malherbe,  84,  115 
Man,      in    seventeenth     century 

literature,    107   ft".  ;   433 
"  Manic  des  dramcs  sombres,"  la, 

by  Cubieres,  342  ft", 
"  Manlius    Capitolinus,"     by     La 

Fosse,  169,  179,  252,  338 
Manners,   French,  on  the    eve  of 

the   Revolution,  429 
Marais,  Mat.,  199,  249 
"  Marc  Antoine,"  by  Gamier,  34 
Marcel,  H.,  220 
"  Marchand      de      Londrcs "      ot 

Clement,   237 
Mareschal,  121 

"  Mariagc  de  Figaro,"  lc,  by  Beau- 
marc  ha  is,  322 
"  Mariamnc,"  Voltaire's,  248 


IXDEX 


48: 


Marie-Antoinette,  queen, 3  50,367, 

376,  379>3?2 
Marie  (de  Guise)  queen,  5 
Mariette,  J.,  engraver,  xvi,  xvii 
Marigny,  1 1 7 
"  Marius,"  by  President  Henault, 

267 
Marivaux,  186  ft",  256 
Marlowe,  34,  45,  52 
Marly,  gardens  of",  xix,  209,  211, 

221 
Marmontel,  241,  255,  on  Garrick, 

292  ;  305,  on  Shakespeare,  367 ; 

376,  404,  on   French  manners, 

430    ;     453,     on     Gliick     and 

Shakespeare,  445 
Marot,  C,  5,  16,  18 
Marv,    queen,    sister     of     Henrv 

VIII.,  5 
Marv,  queen,  daughter  of"  Henrv 

VIII.,  9 
Mary    Stuart,    queen,    5,    14,    17, 

18,  the  subject  of  plays,  45,  48 
Mascarille,  148 
Mask,  at  court,  16 
Masson,  F.,  309,  321 
Matthieu,  P.,  47 
Mauger,  137 
Maugiron,  Louis  de,  36 
Mayenne,  due  de,  84 
Mazarin,  cardinal,  xvii,  92,  132 
"  Medecin  malgre  lui,"  407 
"  Medee,"  by  Corneille,  9S 
Medicis,  C.  de,  58  ;  M.  de,  78 
"  Megere  apprivoisee,"  la,  by  De- 

laire,  464 
"  Melite,"    by  Corneille,   scenery 

for,  96 
Menage,  on  languages,  116  ;   176 
"  Merchant  of  Venice,"  adapted, 

4'3 


Mercier,  S.,  xvii,  xxvi,  xxvii,  visits 
Crebillon,    235  fF.  ;    274,    276, 

3f5,  3  59.  367ff-,  39>  399>. 
caricature  of,  401  ;  in  favour  of 
literarv  reforms,  403  ;  his  dramas, 

+39  ff-' 
"Mercure  de  France,"  182,  260, 

276 
Merlin,  enchanter,  127 
"  Merope,"  Voltaire's,   251,    342, 

432 
"  Merry  Wives,"  216,  adapted  by 

La     Place,     413  ;     by     Collot 
d'Herbois,  414 
Messange,  Mallement  de,  1  54 
Messengers  in  tragedies,  47  ff.,  50 
Metastasio,  279 
Meurice,  P.,  460,  469 
Meurier,  G.,  23 
"  Midsummer     Night's     Dream," 

186,  201 
Miege,  137,  148,  175,  177 
Milton,    119,  132,  174,  176,  177, 

183,  184,  281,  373,  403,  404 
"  Mirame,"     by     St.    Sorlin     and 

Richelieu,  xv,  91 
"  Miroir,"  le,  451,  452 
"  Misanthrope,"    le,   by    Moliere, 

161,  330 
"Miser,"  Shadwell's,  335 
"Misfortunes  of  Arthur,"  34,  35 
Misson,    xvii,    136  ft",    148,    157, 

163,  196,  305 
"Mock  Astrologer,"  the,  by  Dry- 
den,  168 
"  Mo'fse,"  by  St.  Amant,  124 
Mole,  actor,  296,  420,  421 
Moliere,   xiv,   xv,   xviii,   xxiii,  91, 
and   rules,    104;    148,    157,   his 
play-house,  159;  adapted,  161, 
340  ;    178,  183,  186,  225,  326, 


486 


IXDEX 


329'  33°,  333,  334,  33  5,  3+8, 
349,  3  53,  360,  374,  387,  407, 
438 

Mondory,  actor,  1  1  2 

Monnct,  C,   271,  273,  275,  298, 

45' 

Montagu,     Elizabeth,    369,     380, 

defends  Shakespeare,  399 
Montaigne,  6,  18,  33,  36,  397 
Montchrestien,  36,  45,  48,  51 
Montesquieu,  179, on  Shakespeare, 
214,  215  ;   275,   on  gothic  art, 

444 

"  Montgomery,"  by  Gerland,  45 

Montluc,  36 

Montmorency,  constable  of,  4 

Monval,  1  37 

Moore,  E.,  320 

More,  Hannah,  369 

More,  Sir  Thomas,  19  ff.,  27,  30, 

132  ;   the  subject  of  plays,  78 
11  More  dc  Venise,"  le,  by  Butini, 

41  2 

"  More    de    Venisc,"    le,    at    the 

Franconi  circus,  447 
Moreau  le  jeune,  358,  392,  393 
Morel-Fatio,  on  Spain,  29 
Morellet,  275,  296,  300,  301,  315 
Moreri,  21  5 
"  Mort  dc   Cesar,"  la,  by  Grevin, 

40,  213 
"  Mort  de  Cesar,"  la,  by  Voltaire, 

250,  267 
Morville,  comtc  de,  204 
Moses,  268,  459 
Motraye,  see  La  Motraye 
Motteux,  1  3  1 
Mouhy,  dc,  220,  232,  292 
Mounct-Sully,  460 
Moureau,  printer,  388 
Muller,  engraver,  xxvi 


1   Muralt,  L.  B.  de,  136  ff.,  163  ff., 

170,    182,  183 
;    Murder  on   the   stage,  102  ;   Boi- 
leau's  opinion  concerning,  106; 
in  English  plavs,  1  28  ;  264,  434, 
468 
Musset,  A.  de,  459,   and   Shake- 
speare, 463,  465 
Mykrds,  their  misfortunes,  1 1  ff. ; 
fight  with  cabdrivers,  195,  274 
Mysteries,  xiii,  44,  50,  63,  66,  69 

N 

"Nanine,"  Voltaire's,  317 

Nantes,  edict  of,  1  12 

Nanteuil,  Celestin,  453 

Napoleon  1.,  276,  449,  see  Bona- 
parte 

Napoleon,  Stephanie,  350 

Nash,  T.,  18,  60,  1  21 

Naturalism,  in  plays,  347,  375 

Nature,  to  be  followed  according 
to  Boileau,  105  ;  and  .country 
life,  305  ff.  ;  opinion  of  Vol- 
taire, 305,  of  Madame  Victoire, 
306,  of  Bonaparte,  309,  of  R. 
L.  Gerardin,  310,  of  J.  J.  Rous- 
seau, 3  10  ;  in  Shakespeare,  360  ; 
in  Chateaubriand,  443 

Navarre,  Marguerite  de,  18,  19 

Navy,  English,  10 

Ncckcr,  Jacques,  359;  Madame, 
293  ff,  398,  399 

Neufchatcau,  F.  dc,  317 

Newcastle,  Duchess  of,  163,  214 

Newspapers, litcrarv,  167 f41,  i8iff, 
275  ff. 

Newton,  270 

Niccron,  182 

Nicole,  P.,  ui 


IXDEX 


48; 


"Night  Thoughts,"  Young's,  272, 

330,  3+9 
Noailles,  Marshal  de,  29; 

Nolhac,  P.  de,  58 

Northumberland,  beheaded,  1  1 

Norton,  Th.,  16 

"  Nouvelle    Heloise,"   Rousseau's, 

273. 

Novelli,  463 

Novels,  their  increased  impor- 
tance, 223  ;  English,  popular  in 
France,  272  ;  French  and  Eng- 
lish, 297,  466  ;  see  Fielding, 
Richardson 

Noverre,  274. 

Nucius,  Nicander,  31 

O 

O'Dpgharty  de  la  Tour,  43; 

"  CEdipe,"    La    Motte-Houdard's, 

232 
"CEdipe,"    Voltaire's,    208,    24;, 

246 
"CEdipus,"  Sophocles',  256  ff.,  467 
Ogier,  F.,  74  ff. 

Oldfield,  Mrs.,  xix,  191,  193,  204 
Oldham,  177 
Ollivier,  painter,  273 
Opera,  under    Louis    XIV.,    22^, 

229 
Orleans,  duke  of,  288,  319 
"Orphan,"  Otway's,  192 
"Orphelinde  la  Chine,"  Voltaire's, 

3X5>  369 
Orville,  d',  281 
Ossian,  272,  445,  446 
"Othello,"  Shakespeare's,  82,  1S3, 

208,   213,   216,   217,  250,  276. 

329,  adapted  by  Douin,  411,  by 

Butini,    412,    by     Ducis,    415. 

432  ff.,  by   Vigny,  456  ;  at   the 


cirque  Franconi,  447  ;  in  Eng- 
lish on  the  French  stage,  431, 

+  ?2 

Onvay,  168,  192,  220,  29",  334 
Oxford,  9,  129,  152 


Palissot,  343,  392,  40c,  443 
Palladio,  xvi,  91,  98,  99 
Palsgrave,  20  ff. 
"Pamela,"  Richardson's,  23",  268  ; 

on  the  French  stage,  317 
"  Pandoste,"  by  Puget  de  la  Serre, 

xiii,  xiv,  39,  69  ff. 
"  Pandosto,"  Greene's,  43,  121 
Paradin,  on  England,  8  ff. 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  184 
Pare,  minister  under  the  Conven- 
tion, 435 
Parfaict,  Freres,  169 
Parks,  "a  l'anglaise,"  306  ff. 
Parliament,  9,  is  bizarre,  140;  166 
Parterres,      French,      transformed 

English    fashion,   408,   409 
Pasquier,   E.,    22,  on   the   English 

language,  31,  ,2 
"  Passion,"    the,  at   Valenciennes, 

63,  69 
Patin,  Gui,  14c 
Patu,  271,  279,  296,  301,  302 
Paul  I.  of  Russia,  344 
Pavilion,  151,  191 
Payen,  his  travels,  122,  I  36  ff" 
"  Pelerinage  de  la  vie  humaine," 

18 
Pelissary,  Madame  de,  152 
Pelletier-Volmeranges,  }i8 
Pellissier,  28 
Pembroke,  counters  of,   translates 

Gamier,  3  5 
Penley,  actor,  45  I 


488 


INDEX 


Pepys,  177 

"  Pere  dc    Famillc,"    by  Diderot, 

3+3,  +23 
Percy,  and  Maugras,  271,  316 
Perlin,  8  ff.,  32,  124,  138 
Pcrrault,  Ch.,  xv,  84,  88,  229,  32  I 
Perrin,  T.  B.,  278 
Pctau,  185 
Petitot,  238 

Petrarch,  4,  16,  26,  118,  373 
Pcyron,  277 

"  Phcdrc,"  Racine's,  104,  247 
Philidor,  318 
Philip  II.,  169 
"  Philosophe    sans    le   savoir,"   lc, 

Sedaine's,  320,  343 
Pibrac,  19,  21 
Piccini,  445 

Piccolomini,  JE.  S.,  130 
Pichot,  A.,  377 
Pigalle,  xxv,  363,  365 
Pindar,  177 
Piron,  244,  373 
Pitcl,  French  actor,  131 
"  Plaideurs,"  les,  of  Racine,  103 
"  Plain  Dealer,"  Wycherley's,  161, 

334 

Plato,  108,  137,  on  town  life,  443 

Plautus,  73 

Players,  English,  in  Paris,  50  ff., 
at  Fontainebleau,  55,  343;  in 
Germany,  51,  their  delivery, 
57  ;  French,  in  Germany,  52  ; 
Spanish,  in  Paris,  52  ;  English, 
154,  how  dressed,  158;  Italian, 
are  "gestueux,"  1  58.    See  actors 

Plays,  English,  are  sanguinary, 
217,  compared  to  French,  231. 
See  comedy,  tragedy 

Poinsinet,  3 1 8,  342 

"  Polyeucte,"  Corneille's,  73 


Pompadour,  Madame  de,  247,  270 

Pope,  A.,  183,  184,  200,  207, 
212,  267,  281,  296,  on  Shake- 
speare, 299,  302  ;   325,  404 

Pope,  T.,  a  player,  52 

Port-Royral,  doctrine  of,  concern- 
ing the  stage,  1 1  1 

"  Pour  et  Contre,"  of  Prevost,  199 

Powell,  W.,  actor,  300 

"  Precellence  du  langage  fran- 
cois,"  by  H.  Estienne,  26 

Precieux  style,  43  ff.,  79  ff 

"  Pretendue  Veuve,"  la,  by  Des- 
cazeaux-Desgranges,  241 

Preville,  actor,  273,  295,  321,  398 

Prevost,  abbe,  xviii,  179,  186,  on 
England  and  Shakespeare,  i88ff, 
216  ;   212,  218,  220,  267,  272, 

2  79 

Printers,  French,  7  ff,  20  ;  Eng- 
lish, 8 

Prior,  Mat.,  154,  181,  183,  188 

Prose,  in  tragedies,  77,  IOI  ff,  246, 
367,  375,  403 

Protestants,    French    or    English, 

7 ;  131 

"  Provoked    Wife,"     Vanbrugh's, 

169 
"  Psyche,"  Corneille's,  335 
"  Pucelle      d'Orleans,"      la,       by 

d'Aubignac,    101    ff,   226 
Pugct,  see  La  Serre 
Pujas,  A.,  xxv,  355 
Pynson,  R.,  8,  20 

O 

Ouakers,  xvii,   141   ff,    147,    207, 

212,  214 
Oucrard,  177 

Ouinault,  xx,  82  ff,  226,  227 
Ouinet,  E.,  454 


1XDEX 


489 


R 

Rabelais,  18,  23,  36,  131 

Racine,  J.,  xiv,  xxvii,  46,  48,  65, 
73,  and  rules  103  ff.  ;  III, 
knows  Italian;  1 1 8,  learns 
Spanish,  118;  119,  131,  132, 
157,  161,  170,  176,  178,  183, 
218,  229,  247,  279,  309,  333, 
335*  337,  3+6,  354,  360,  369, 
373,  374,  Voltaire  in  favour  of, 
against     Shakespeare,     375     ft"., 

379  5     387,    4°5,    ++5i     +67, 

"the  Just"  470 
Racine,  J.  B.,  203 

L.,  184,  203 
"  Racine      et      Shakespeare/'     by 

Stendhal,   449  ff". 
Raleigh,    Sir  W.,     18,    167  ;     his 

son  in  Paris,  59 
Rapin-Thoyras,  166 
Rathen,-,  2,  175 
"  Ravissement  de  Proserpine,"  le, 

by  Clavcret,  101 
Reeve,  Clara,  220 
Regnard,  348 
Regnault,  dramatist,  48 
Regnault,  F.,  printer,  7 

„         L.,    translates    Greene, 

43,  121 
Rehan,  Miss  Ada,  463 
Reichenberg,  Mdlle.,  460 
Rembrandt,  350 
Renaissance,  the,   24  ft*.,    33,  and 

the  drama,  65  ft". 
Restoration,     the,      in     England, 

1  30  ft".,  in  France,  449  ff. 
Revolution,   the  French,  and   the 

stage,  441  ff- 
"  Rhadamiste,"    Crebillon's,     312 
Riccoboni,  Louis,  217  ft".,  329 

„  Madame,    xxvii,     271, 


273,      298,      329,      365,       on 

"  Romeo,"  409  ff. 
"Richard  III."  Shakespeare's,  50, 

183,   247,   280,    325,  in    Paris, 

452  ;      44.6  ;     adapted     by     de 

Rozoi,  4 1  3 
Richardson,    S.,    237,     267,    268, 

272,_3°2>   31" 

Richelieu,  cardinal  de,  xv,  22, 
57,  84,  98,  143 

Richmond,  Duke  or,  son  of  Henrv 
VIII.,  5 

Rigal,  39 

Rigaud,  engraver,  xix,  20; 

"  Rivales,"  les,  of  (Juinault,  82 

Rivarol,  120,  on  English  litera- 
ture and  Shakespeare,  405 

Robespierre,  439 

"Robinson  Crusoe,"  181,  184 

Rochambeau,  404 

Rohan,  due  de,  8 

"  Roman  Father,"  Whitehead's, 
336 

Romantics,  the,  of  1830,  2  1  2,  220, 
Chateaubriand  and  the,  441, 
gain  ground  and  win  the 
day,  452,  453  ff.;  want  to  eat 
Academicians,  4.66 

"Romeo,"  Shakespeare's,  81,  279, 
301,  424.,  447,  performed  in 
Paris,  +52;  a  French,  39; 
Cubieres',  353  ;  Chastellux's, 
3-9,  40S  ff.  ;  Suard's,  411  ; 
Ducis's,  415,  423  ft".,  430  ; 
Mercier's,  439  ;  Segur's,  446  ; 
Berlioz's,  464 

"  Romulus,"  by  La  Motte,  231 

Ronsard,  in  England,  1 3  ff.,  said 
to  know  English,  14;  15  ff., 
1  8,  wants  to  visit  South  America, 
25  ;   29,    on    the    French    Ian- 


490 


INDEX 


guagc,  25    ft".  ;   36,    39,   46,   48, 
58,    84,     115,    132,   405,    452, 

4-54 

Roseli,  220 

Rosemond,  historian,  165 

Rossi,  actor,  463 

Rotrou,  xiv,  39,  81  ft". 

Roubillac,  his  statue  of  Shake- 
speare, xxii,  302 

Rousseau,  J.  J.,  3,  237,  242,  268, 
275,  tearful,  302  ;  310,  318, 
plays  in  one  of  his  plays, 
409 

"Rover,"    the,     by     Mrs.     Behn, 

341 

Rowe,  N.,  182,  336 

Rozoi,  de,  408,  413 

Ruault,  277 

Ruelles,  87 

Rules,  dramatic,  33  ft".,  39  ft"., 
50  ft".,  59  ;  accepted  in  France, 
rejected  in  England,  65  ft".  ; 
Lope  de  Vega  on,  73,  rejected 
by  French  independents,  74  ft".  ; 
in  Italy,  77  ;  in  France,  84  ft".  ; 
St.  Sorlin  in  favour  of,  97  ft", 
D'Aubignac  on,  98  ft".  ;  Racine's 
followers  and,  178  ;  183,  184, 
188,  218,  222,  223,  238,  245, 
246,  248,  266,  297,  311,  319, 
33  3,  334-  3  53,  367,  neglected 
by  Shakespeare,  384  ;  391, 
398,  405,  introduced  into 
Shakespeare's  plavs  by  adapters, 
411  ft",  419  ft". 

Rupert,  Prince,  108 

Rutledge,  James,  298,  on  Voltaire 
and  Shakespeare,  400 

Rutter,  J.,  117 

"  Ruy  Bias,"  Victor  Hugo's,  263 

Rvcaut,  Sir  P.,  166 


Sabbioneta,  theatre  at,  xvi 

Sackville,  5,  16,  57  ft".,  181, 
217 

St.  Albans,  carl  of,  443 

St.  Amant,  on  English  manners 
and  literature,  124  ft".;  151, 
200,   270 

St.  Apollinia,  a  mystery  play,  69 

St.  Barthelemi,  massacre  of  the, 
45,  on  the  stage,  50 

St.  Evremond,  104,  135  ft",  writes 
on  the  French  and  English  stage, 
161  ft".  ;    169,  183,  443 

St.  Foix,  256 

St.  Gelais,  Melin  de,  16,  18 

St.  Germain,  foire,  88,  381 

St.  Hyacinthe,  185 

St.  Igny,  xvii 

St.  Jean,  engraver,  xviii 

St.  Julien,  madame  de,  391 

St.  Lien  [alias  Holyband)  20  ft". 

St.  Marc,  poet,  396 

St.  Maur,  Duprc  de,  184 

St.  Real,  169 

St.  Sacns,  464 

St.  Sorlin,  Desmarcts  de,  xv,  91, 
and  rules,  97  ft".  ;   346 

Ste.  Beuve,  454 

Sallengre,  A.  H.,  132,  168 

Salisbury,  countess  of,  78 

Salvini,  Italian  actor,  463 

Samson,  dramatist,  464 

Sand,  George,  463 

Sarcey,  153,  463,  468,  469 

Saulnier^'A,  277 

Saurin,  272,  274,  319,  320,  343, 
406,  408 

Savage,  177 

Savalcttc,  has  "  Romeo  "  per- 
formed at  La  Chcvrette,  408 


IXDEX 


49* 


Savoie,  Louise  de,  18 
Saxe,  marechal  de,  195 

Scaliger,  22,  33 

Scamozzi,  xvi 

Scarron,  9,  51,  183,  219,  271 

Scenery,  for  mysteries,  xiii,  63  ; 
for  sixteenth  century,  plays, 
xiii,  63,  66  ;  for  "  Pandoste  :' 
("Winter's  Tale")  xiii,  xiv, 
69  ff.,  at  the  Hotel  de  Bour- 
gogne,  xiv,  85,  in  Richelieu's 
Palace,  xv,  89  ;  in  London,  69, 
73  ;  "simultaneous,"  70  ff.  ;  for 
plays  of  Corneille  and  Racine, 
73  ;  embellished,  88,  for 
"  Melite  "  96  ;  22;,  231,  249, 
251,  255,  261  lugubrious,  326, 
339>  3  53>  +31  ;  copied  from 
Delacroix,  460 

"  Scenes  Anglaises,"  bv  Des- 
touches,  232 

Scheemakers,  sculptor,  xxii 

Schelandre,  his  castle  of  Sau- 
mazene,  36  ;  51,  66,  his 
"  Tyr,"  74  ;  230,  238 

Schmidt,  G.  F.,  xix,  189 

"School  for  Scandal,"  451 

Scio,  citoyenne,  actress,  446 

Scotland,  auxiliaries  from,  in  the 
French  service,  3  ;  her  wonders, 
129 

Scudery,  84,  92 

Scdaine,  318,  320,  342,  358,  on 
Shakespeare,  398 

Sehais,  J.,  English  plaver,  5  1 

"  Sejanus,"  by  Ben  Jonson,  58, 
59,  89  ff.,  162 

Selden,  30 

"  Selimus,"  46 

"  Semiramis,"  Voltaire's,  xxi,  252 
$■,  37  5,  +5° 


Seneca,  in  English,  34  ;  79,  80, 
126 

"  Sensibility,"  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  302  ff,  33  I 

"  Serious  genre,"  the,  opinion  ot 
Diderot  on,  319,  of  Beau- 
marchais,  321  ff.  ;   342 

Sevigne,  marquise  de,  84,  knows 
Italian,  116;    166 

S'Gravcsande,  168 

Shad  well,  224,  334,  335 

Shaftesbury,  167,  168 

Shakespeare,  his  statues,  xxii, 
302  ff,  and  Stratford,  I,  2,  and 
the  "  Encyclopedic,"  2  ;  state 
of  French  literature  in  his  days, 
18  ff,  "  wanted  arte,"  34, 
French  dramas  on  same  sub- 
jects as  his  own,  39  ff.  ;  in 
Germany,  52  ;  friend  of  Jon- 
son, 59,  62,  life  by  S.  Lee,  79, 
wrongly  said  to  imitate  Cyrano, 
79,  casual  resemblances  with 
French  dramas,  80  ff.  ;  88  ; 
opinion  of  Jonson  on,  95  ;  his 
independence,  115  ;  126,  130, 
his  art,  138,  remodelled  at  the 
Restoration,  161  ;  his  historical 
plays  praised  by  Muralt,  164, 
and  Moreau  de  Brasey,  165, 
and  President  Henault,  265  ff, 
how  far  known  under  Louis 
XIV.,  170  ff.  ;  copies  of  in 
French  libraries,  1  7off. ;  opinion 
of  Clement,  173,  first  printed 
judgment  on,  175,  first  printed 
mention,  1  76  ;  peculiar  spellings 
of  his  name,  176,  182,  265, 
269,  274,  413  ;  mentioned  by 
Bover  and  by  the  "Journal  des 
Savants,"  177  ;  by  the  "Spec- 


492 


INDEX 


tator,"  178  ;  judgment  of  the 
"Journal  de  la  Haye,"  183,  of 
Prevost,  192  ff.,  216,  of  Vol- 
taire, 207  ff".  ;  compared  with 
Addison,  209,  with  Grevin, 
213,  better  known  owing  to 
Voltaire,  214  ff.,  opinion  of 
Chesterfield  and  Montesquieu 
on,  214,  of  Louis  Riccoboni, 
217,  of  Louis  Racine,  218,  of 
abbe  Le  Blanc,  219  ;  his  style, 
219  ;  early  French  translations, 
220,  by  La  Place,  220  ff.  ;  the 
"Journal  de  Trevoux  "  and  F. 
du  Bocage,  on,  224  ;  his  "dra- 
matis persons,"  247  ;  imitated 
by  Voltaire,  249,  the  Shake- 
speare question  in  France,  269, 
his  works  in  the  library  of  ladies, 
270  ;  Shakespeare  andCorneillc, 
276  ;  opinion  of  the  "Journal 
Encyclopcdique,"  276,  of  the 
"Journal  Anglais,"  278  ;  his 
sonnets  translated,  278  ;  extracts 
from,  278  ;  Patu  on,  279  ;  his 
plays  remodelled  in  London, 
282  ;  Garrick  interprets,  2S8 
ff  ;  French  and  English  critics 
on,  after  1750,  298  ff.  ;  opinion 
of  Hume  and  Pope,  299,  of  Gil- 
don,  Gibbon,  Morellet,  Garrick, 
300  ff.  ;  temple  to,  301  ;  a 
model  of  "sombre,"  322  ff. ; 
opinion  of  Delille,  322  ;  326, 
329;  war  a  propos  of;  sham 
war,  1c  Blanc,  3  30  ff. ;  Cubieres, 
341  ff.  ;  Garrick's  remodellings, 
334,   Shakespeare   and    Racine, 

337  ;  mixes  tragedy  and  comedy, 

338  ;  his     battles    and     ghosts, 

339  ;   translated   by    Le    Tour- 


neur,  354  ff.  ;  real  war  and  its 
causes,  357  ff,  his  partisans, 
359,  361  ff,  his  jubilee,  362 
ff,  opinion  of  the  Encyclopae- 
dists, of  Diderot,  Suard,  and 
Marmontel,  2,  366,  367,  of  Vol- 
taire ;  Gille-Shakespeare,  370 
ff,  Voltaire  on  the  jubilee,  380  ; 
Shakespeare  has  sparks  of  genius, 
384.  Voltaire's  second  cam- 
paign, 388  ff.  ;  opinion  of  Se- 
daine,  398,  of  the  "Annee  Lit- 
teraire,"  398  ;  the  quarrel  after 
Voltaire's  death,  399ft.  ;  defen- 
ded by  Elizab.  Montagu,  by 
Rutledge  and  Bared,  399,  400  ; 
judgment  of  Mercier,  403,  of 
Rivarol,  405  ;  admitted  to 
the  French  play-house,  405 
ft".,  studied  by  the  Mar- 
quise de  Gleon,  411  ;  adap- 
ted by  Chastellux,  408,  by 
Douin,  411,  by  Butini,  412,  La 
Place,  413,  Collot  d'Herbois, 
414,  De  Rozoi,  413,  Rochon  de 
Chabannes,  414,  Ducis,  415 
ft".  ;  opinion  of  M.  J.  Chenier, 
441,  of  Chateaubriand,  443,  a 
gothic  cathedral,  444,  and 
Gliick,  445  ;  adapted  during 
the  French  Revolution,  446, 
performed  in  English  in  Paris, 
and  hissed,  450  ft",  and  applau- 
ded, 454  ft".  ;  Berlioz,  Dumas, 
Hugo,  the  Due  de  Broglie,  Ch. 
Magnin,  Lamartine,  Flaubert 
on  Shakespeare,  455  ft.  ; 
text  of,  printed  in  Paris, 
4:56  ;  recent  adapters,  463 
ft".  ;  Sunday  performances, 
467 


IXDEX 


493 


"  Shakespeare       amoureux,"      by 

Duval,  447 
"  Shakesperiana,"  Thimm's,  407 
"Shylock,"    by   Haraucourt, 

46+ 
Siddons,  Mrs.,   282,   317,  as  lady 

Macbeth,  426 

Sidney,   Sir  Philip,  xiii,  friend  of 

Du   Bartas,   27,   33,    57  ff.,  69, 

121,    I75 

"  Siege  de  Calais,"  by  De   Belloy, 

.  295>  3^7 
Silhouette,  translates  Pope,  184 
"  Silvanire  "  of  Mairet,  88 
Simond,  L.,  426 
"Sir   Politick  Wouldbe,"  by   St. 

Evremond,  162 
Sirven,  296 
Skelton,  4,  18 

"  Skialetheia,"  by  Guilpin,  18 
Smith,  Richard,  57 

„        Sir  Thomas,  6 

„        Miss  L.  T.,  170 
Smithson,  miss  (Madame  Berlioz), 

xxviii,  455,  456,  457 
Socrates,  108 
"  Soltane,"  la,  bv  Bounin,  46,  52, 

78,  80 
Sombre,  the,  in  literature,  322  fF., 

329,  424  fF. 
Sophocles,    177,    208,    218,    245, 

268,  467 
"  Sophonisbe,"  by  Mairet,  88 
Sorbieres,  1 30,  136  fF.,  on  English 

drama,  163  fF,  144,  157,  214 
Soulie,  Eudore,  5  1 
Souriau,  455 
Soury,  J.,  306 
Spaniards,  28  fF. 
Spanish,     known,      under     Louis 

XIV.,   116  ff. 


"Spectateur  Francois,"  le,  ot 
Marivaux,   186 

"Spectator,"  167, mentions  Shake- 
speare, 178  ;    184 

Spelman,  174 

Spenser,  Ed.,  18,  175,  278 

Sports,  203,  274,  see  Games 

Stael,  Madame  de,  316,  445 

Stage,  men  of  quality  on  the, 
xviii,  xx,  155  fF,  253,  255, 
freed,  256;  English,  252  ;  see 
murder,  tragedy,  comedv,  plays, 
scenery,  theatre 

Stair,  earl  of,  204 

Starkey,   31 

Steele,  238 

Stendhal,  317,  449  fF,  451  fF 

Sterne,  281  fF,  284  fF,  in  France, 
362,  on  French  tragedies,  406 

Stillingfleet,  166 

Stratford-on-Avon,  1,  2,  137,  362 

Suard,  276,  362,  365,  398,411 

Suckling,   176 

Suicide,  in  England,  125,  203  fF, 
345  ;  on  the  stage,  320  ;  Na- 
poleon and  suicide,  321  ;  Ham- 
let on,  373 

"  Sultana,"  the,  by  Ch.  Johnson, 

337 
"  Supplement  du    Genie,"  le,   bv 

Le  Blanc,  337  fF 
Surrey,  earl  of,  6 
Swift,  181,  184,  200,  267,  337 
"  Sylvanire,"  la,  by  d'Urfe 
Sylvester,  J.,  19,  21 

T 

"  Tableau  de   Paris  "  of  Mercier, 

27+,  4°3 
Taine,  143,  278 
"Tale  of  a  Tub,"  181 


494 


IXDEX 


Talma,  316,  his  acting,  317,  as 
Othello,  433,  as   Hamlet,  437, 

447 
Talon,  Omer,  143 
"Tambour     Nocturne,"     le,     by 

Destouches,    188,  238 
"  Taming    of    the    Shrew,"    278, 

3°  1,  463, 
"Tancrede,"    by     Voltaire,    247, 

3°5 
Tardieu,  A.  P.,  201 
"  Tartufe,"  349 
Tasso,  118,  119 
"Tattler,"  184 
Taverns,  English,  10,  283 
"  Telemaque,:'  Fenelon's,  119 
"  Tempest,"  the,    177,   216,  232, 

358>  4H 
Temple,  Sir  W.,  120,  166,  176 

Tencin,  Madame  de,  284,  299 

Terence,  73,  177 

Terry,  actor,  in  Paris,  455 

Texte,  J.,  on  Rousseau,  2  ;    176 

"  Theatre  anglois  "  of  La  Place, 
220 

Theatre,  English,  modifies  the 
French,  319  ff.  ;  mutual  bor- 
rowings, 330  fF.,  Voltaire's 
opinion  concerning  the  Eng- 
lish, 383  ff.  ;  French,  its  pre- 
sent fame,  466 

Theatres,  in  Southwark,  xi,  in 
London,  37  ff,  St.  Amant  on 
the  English,  126  ff,  English, 
seventeenth  century,  1 54  ff.  ; 
191  ff.  ;  English  eighteenth 
century,  282  ;  in  Paris,  xiv, 
xv,  36  ff,  66,  embellished,  88, 
89  ;  in  Italy,  xvi,  98,  99  ; 
built  by  Voltaire,  xxi,   241 

Theobald,  Lewis,  xxiv,  329 


Thieriot,  209,  21  3 

Thimm,  407 

Thomas,  Ambroise,  464 

"Thomas  Morus,"  by  Puget  de 
la  Serre,  78 

Thou,  de  (Thuanus),  30 

Tickell,  1 19 

Tillotson,  168 

"  Timocrate,"  by  T.  Corneille, 
226 

"  Timon,"  Shakespeare's,  241  ; 
Mercier's,  439 

Titus  Livius,  169 

"  Toison  d'or,"  la,  bv  P.  Cor- 
neille, 226 

Toland,  168 

"  Tombeaux  de  Verone,"  les, 
Mercier's,  439 

"  Tom  Jones,"  269,  297,  on  the 
French  stage,  317,  318 

"  Tom  Jones  a  Londres,"by  Des- 
forges,  407 

Tonson,  J.,  1 70,  182 

"  Tottcl's  Miscellany,"  16 

Tourncux,  M.,  398,  424 

Tourval,  22,  1  20 

Tragcdy-ies,  classical,  in  France 
and  in  England,  34  ff.  ;  mur- 
ders in  French,  251  ff.  ;  its 
rules,  311,  and  drama,  317  ff  ; 
domestic,  319;  French  adapted 
in  England,  334  ff.  ;  and 
comedy  mixed,  338  ;  Mcrcicr 
on,  367  ff.  ;  popularity  of,  in 
France,  406 

Travellers,  English  in  France,  5  ; 
French  in  Italy,  in  England, 
7,  8,  1  1  ff,  123'ff,  131  ff,  138 
ff,  275,  280  ff. 

"  Triomphe  de  Sophocle,"  le,  by 
Palissot,  392 


IXDEX 


495 


Tronchin,  368,  398 
Tunbridge  Wells,  described,  191 
Turgot,  359 

"Tyr  et  Sidon,"  by    Schelandre, 
74,  238 

u 

Ughes,  Thomas,  34 

Ugolino,  424,  425 

Unities,  33   ff.,    101    ff„    112    ff.  ; 

see  Rules 
Urfe,  d',  77,  103,  230,  306 
"  Utopia,"  More's,  30 


Valmont,  A.  de,  457 

Vanel,  165 

"Vathek,"  96 

Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnave,  31,  33, 

46 
\  auxhall,     English,     377,     380  ; 

French,   380,  381 
Vega,  Lope  de,  73,  208,  245,  334 
"  Venice    Preserved,"    168,     179, 

192,  220,  252,  297,  338 
Vergne,  Madame,  456 
"  Verite    dans    le    Vin,"    la,    bv 

Colle,   291 
Versailles,  gardens  of,  465 
Verses,  French  alexandrine,    163, 

246,  346,  454,  469  ;  blank,  77, 
163,    221,    230,    Voltaire    on, 

247,  of  fourteen  syllables,  78, 
opinion  of  Boileau,  105  ff.,  of 
Descartes,  108 

Vesel,  C.  de,  6 

Vestris,    Madame,  as  Irene,   393, 

as  lady  Macbeth,  426,  431 
Vicenza,  theatre  at,  xvi,  98,  99 
"  Victim,"  the,  bv  Ch.   Johnson, 

338 


Victoire,  Madame,  306 

Vigny,  A.  de,  456,  463 

Villegagnon,  25,  132 

Villeray,  Le  Coq  de,  213 

Villette,  Marquise  de,  389 

Villevieille,  Marquis  de,  387 

Virgil,  117,  119,  400 

Vise,  Donneau  de,  104 

"  Visionnaires,"  les,  bv  St.  Sorlin, 
97  «".,  346,  347 

Visionnaires,  quarrel  of  the,  1 1  1  ff 

Visscher,  Claes  Jan,  xi,  37 

Voiture,  1  23 

Voltaire,  portraits  of,  xix,  xxi, 
xxv,  xxvi,  201,  285,  363,  385  ; 
47,  96,  143,  1-9,  180,  183  ; 
in  England,  200  ff.  ;  216,  217, 
his  tearful  plavs,  237,  342  ; 
and  Mile.  Clairon,  xx,  239  ; 
fond  of  the  stage,  241  ff.  ; 
his  activity,  244  ;  on  dramatic 
art,  246  ;  his  tragedies,  his 
literary  reforms,  247  ff.  ;  his 
knowledge  of  English,  267  ;  on 
travelling,  275  ;  his  "  Appel  a 
toutes  les  Nations,"  276  ;  as  a 
tragic  actor,  286  ff.  ;  on  De 
Belloy,  295,  on  Garrick,  301, 
in  tears,  305  ;  310,  312,  3 1 5, 
on  La  Chaussee,  317;  against 
tragedies  in  prose,  318;  on 
Canada,  329  ;  on  sombre 
drama?,  343  ;  on  Le  Tour- 
neur's  translation,  354  ff.  ; 
leads  the  war  against  Shake- 
speare, 357  ff.  ;  statue  of,  by 
Pigalle,  363,  365  ;  skirmishes 
with  Elizabeth  Montagu,  and 
Walpole,  369  ff.  ;  first  Letter 
to  the  Academy,  376  ff.  ;  por- 
trait    of,     shortly     before     his 


496 


INDEX 


death,  385;  his  success,  387; 
second  campaign,  388  ff, 
crowned  at  the  French  Comedy, 
389  ff.  ;  his  second  Letter,  395 
ft.  ;  proposes  a  reform  of  the 
Dictionary,  and  dies,  397  ; 
various  replies  to  the  letters  of, 
399  ft".  ;  on  patriotism,  4.03  ; 
Ducis  and,  415  ;  443,  464 
"  Voyage  philosophique,"  by  La 
Coste,  282  ft". 

W 

Wallack,  his  troupe,  463 
Waller,    130,    133    ft".,    136,    176, 

183 
Walpole,  H.,  270,  284,  295,  297, 

skirmishes    with   Voltaire,    369 

ff..  373 
Ward,  sculptor,  xxii 
Warton,  T.,  279 
Warwick,  28 


Whitehead,  279,  334,  335  ff. 

William  the  Conqueror,  31 

William  III.,  175 

Wilson,  B.,  painter,  417 

"  Winter's   Tale,"  xii,  xiii,  39  ff, 

69  ft".,  216 
Women,    English,    their    beauty, 

10,    139,    too     many     blondes, 

139,     love      bloodshed,       144, 

manners  of,   1  51 
Wotton,  W.,  181 
Wyatt,  Sir  T.,  4,  18,  30,  60,  181 
Wycherley,  161,  224,  329,  334 


Yart,  abbe,  225,  272 

Young,  his  cave,  xxiv  ;   272,  33c, 

3+9,  35 1 

Z 
"Zaire,"     Voltaire's,    240,     241, 

25°»  251*  374,  432 


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