by means of the Interlude, the framework of which had been long ago determined by comic influences. Hence in the oldest English tragedies the line that divides genuine tragic composition from comedy is very faintly drawn, and the public regarded what was exhibited to them merely as a variety of the moral entertainment to which they had been for generations accustomed. A tragedy was little more than some true history of misfortune presented to them in a dramatic form, just as The Mirror for Magistrates was tragedy presented in an epic form. And as in the Miracle Plays they were not disturbed by any sense of irreverence, in witnessing scenes of buffoonery associated with imitations of the most sacred things, so they perceived no incongruity when they found the drama of Cambyses described to them as follows:

A lamentable tragedy, mixed full of pleasant mirth, containing the life of Cambyses, king of Persia, from the beginning of his kingdom unto his death, his one good deed of execution, after that many wicked deeds, and tyrannous murders, committed by and through him, and last of all his odious death by God's justice appointed in such order as followeth.1

The "odious death" of the tyrant is accomplished coram populo, and in the most bloody manner possible, as may be seen from the stage direction :

Enter the King without a gown, a sword thrust up into his side bleeding.2

This is so far quite in the manner of Seneca, who (though his tragedies were never acted) delighted in the representation of horrible physical suffering as enforcing his doctrine that death is a release from evil: the English dramatist, however, regards the death of Cambyses as a punishment for his crimes.

The revived idea of Justice in tragedy is excellently illustrated in the play of Appius and Virginia, which, with all its anomalies, is not wanting in a certain elemental pathos and elevation of feeling, and which is thus described :

1 Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. iv. p. 158.

2 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 244.

"A new tragical comedy of Appius and Virginia. Wherein is lively expressed a rare example of the Virtue of Chastity by Virginia's constancy in wishing rather to be slain at her own father's hands, than to be dishonoured by the wicked judge Appius."1 Appius is represented, not as an unmitigated villain, but as a man torn by an inward conflict between passion and duty, who is persuaded to the worse course by the Vice Haphazard. There is no lack of dramatic power in the following dialogue :

APPIUS.

I find it, I mind it, I swear that I will,

Though shame or defame may happen, no skill.
But out, I am wounded, how am I divided?
Two states of my life from me are now glided:
For Conscience he pricketh me contemned,

And Justice saith Judgment will have me condemned;
Conscience saith, Cruelty sure will detest me;

And Justice saith, Death in the end will molest me;
And both in one sudden methinks they do cry,
That fire eternal my soul shall destroy.

[Here let him make as though he went out and let Conscience and Justice come out after him, and let Conscience hold in his hand a lamp burning, and let Justice have a sword and hold it before Appius' breast.

HAPHAZARD. Why these are but thoughts, man why, fie for shame,

fie!

For Conscience was careless, and sailing by seas,
Was drowned in a basket, and had a disease,
Sore moved for pity, when he would grant none,
For being hard-hearted was turned to a stone:
And sailing by Sandwich he sank for his sin;
Then care not for Conscience the worth of a pin.
And judgment judged Justice to have a reward,
For judging still justly, but all is now marred;
For gifts they are given where judgment is none;
Thus judgment and justice a wrong way hath gone.
Then care not for Conscience the worth of a fable;
Justice is no more, nor aught to do able.2

After Virginia has been killed, Justice and Reward appear on the stage. Appius, thrown into prison, commits

1 Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. iv. p. 106.

2 Ibid. p. 128.

suicide, and the news of this is brought to the audience, who are further gratified with the sight of Haphazard being carried off to the gallows.

In the Prologue to Edwards' Damon and Pithias we find an illustration at once of the manner in which "history" appealed to the mediæval imagination, as furnishing true examples of conduct; of the English idea of tragic imitation; and of the mixed nature of the drama in England, which gave rise to the form of TragiComedy :

But now for to be brief, the matter to express,

Which here we shall present in this; Damon and Pithias.

A rare example of friendship true, it is no legend lie,
But a thing once done indeed, which histories do descry,
Which done of yore in long time past, yet present shall be here,
Even as it were in doing now, so lively it shall appear.

Lo, here in Syracuse, th' ancient town, which once the Romans

won.

Here Dionysius palace, within whose court this thing most
strange was done,

Which matter mixed with mirth and care a just name to apply,
As seems most fit we have it termed a tragical comedy.1

Damon, accused in the Court of Dionysius of being a spy, is condemned to death by the tyrant. He asks leave to return to Greece to settle his affairs, promising to return. The dialogue that thereupon follows is noteworthy as illustrating the decay of the spirit of European chivalry in the atmosphere of Machiavellian cynicism.

DIONYSIUS. A pleasant request! as though I could trust him absent, Whom in no wise I cannot trust being present.

DAMON.

And yet, though I swore the contrary, do that I require, Give me a pledge for thy return, and have thine own desire.

He is as near now as he was before [Aside].

There is no surer nor greater pledge than the faith of a

gentleman.

DIONYSIUS. It was wont to be; but otherwise now the world doth

stand.2

Pithias offers to be hostage for his friend, and he is to be

1 Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. iv. p. 12.

VOL. II

2 Ibid. vol. iv. p. 54.

2 B

put to death if the latter fails to present himself on a stated day. Damon arrives in Syracuse just after the appointed hour, as Pithias is being led out to execution. Both contend before Dionysius for the right to die, a spectacle of heroic friendship, which so moves the king that he announces his conversion to the paths of virtue, and banishes all flatterers and parasites from his Court. Thus the play, like the Shakespearian Tragi-Comedy, ends happily.

Meantime in the Inns of Court the more strict and learned conception of Tragedy, as it was understood by Seneca, maintained its ground. The first example of the regular Five-Act Tragedy in England is Sackville's Ferrex and Porrex (1562), of which the argument is as follows:

Gorboduc, king of Britain, divided his realm in his life-time to his sons Ferrex and Porrex. The sons fell to dissension. The

younger killed the elder. The mother, that more dearly loved the elder, for revenge killed the younger. The people moved with the cruelty of the fact rose in rebellion, and slew both father and mother. The nobility assembled, and most terribly destroyed the rebels; and afterwards for want of issue of the Prince, whereby the succession of the Crown became uncertain, they fell to civil war, in which both they and many of their issues were slain, and the land for a long time almost desolate and miserably wasted.1

None of these actions is presented on the stage: all of them are reported by professional messengers or other persons who have been eye-witnesses of them. The place of action is filled by a dumb show before each act, signifying allegorically the nature of the events, to the accompaniment of music. There is a chorus-as in the tragedies of Seneca-of four ancient and sage men of Britain, who also after Seneca's manner-comment on the course of events at the close of each act.

In spite of the contemptuous tone in which Schlegel speaks of this play,2 Ferrex and Porrex is a work of great merit. It follows the practice of Seneca merely in its

1 Sackville's Works (edited by Sackville-West, 1895), p. 3.
2 As cited in Ward's English Dramatic Literature, vol. i. p. 107.

form: the conception is original and is worked out in a truly English spirit, preserving the serious purpose of the mediæval drama, and enforcing a lofty and patriotic moral. Throughout this play, as in The Mirror for Magistrates, we see how deeply the lessons of the Wars of the Roses had impressed the imagination of Englishmen, and how grave were the dangers they anticipated from a doubtful succession.1 The Oos of the drama resembles that of the Greek tragedians rather than that of Seneca: the misfortunes of the kingdom are represented as the fruits of the curse entailed by the civil war between Morgan and Cunedagius; but each crime committed by the actors in the play is the product of free will, and is followed by its own retribution; while at the close of the tragedy the final triumph of justice is confidently anticipated :

2

But now, O happy man, whom speedy death

Deprives of life, he is enforced to see

These hugy mischiefs, and these miseries,

These civil wars, these murders, and these wrongs.

Of justice yet must God in fine restore

This noble crown unto the lawful heir:

For right will always live, and rise at length,
But wrong can never take deep root to last.3

A noble conclusion, and quite unlike the moral of Seneca's plays. There is also great dramatic narrative power and tragic pathos in the description by Marcella, a lady of the Court, of the death of Porrex.

But hear his ruthful end:

The noble prince, pierced with the sudden wound,
Out of his wretched slumber hastily start,
Whose strength now failing, straight he overthrew,
When in the full his eyes, even now unclosed,
Beheld the queen, and cried to her for help.

We then, alas, the ladies which that time

Did there attend, seeing that heinous deed,

And hearing him oft call the wretched name
Of mother, and to cry to her for aid

1 Dr. Ward has also well pointed out that the dramatists reflect upon the danger of a foreign marriage for the Queen (see English Dramatic Literature, vol. i. p. 109).

2 Chorus at the end of Act iii. Sackville's Works, p. 51.

3 Ibid. p. 91.