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ModernPhilology

VOL. X October,1912 No. 2

SHAKESPEARE AND DUCIS


I
In discussingthe adaptations of Shakespeare made by Jean-
FrangoisDucis forthe last generationof the old r6gime,my object
willbe twofold. I wishto show in some detail the changesin Shake-
speare demandedby Frenchtaste at that time; and to demonstrate
how Ducis representedin a ratherlogical and interestingmannera
certainpointin the evolutionofthe classicaltragedy.
These were the firstversionsof Shakespeareto be performedon
the French stage. They were decidedlypopular. They came just
at the time (1769-92) whennew currentsof sensibilitM,humanitarian-
ism,Anglomania,and iconoclasmwerethe strongestthingsin French
literature. Ducis illustrates admirably the first three of these
phases; but neitherhe nor any otherdramatistcould illustratethe
fourth,forthe reason that the stage was the last thingto be touched
by the comingRevolution.
The courseof tragedysince the days of Racine had been marked
by a sure,if spasmodic,decline. Crebillonp&re,the admiredof Poe,
has been creditedwith dealing the firstmortal blow to the genre-.
I shall returnto him in a moment. But Voltaire,for good or for
evil, is by farthe most consequentialrepresentativeof what forcon-
veniencewe may call the neo-classictragedy. He was in the main
a devout Racinian. He was as much of a conservativein the drama
as he was a radical in philosophy. He held by the unities,by the
1 In Atrdeet Thyeste,1707, and a preface to this. See Lanson, Nivelle de la Chaussie
et la comddie larmoyante,Paris, 1887, pp. 102-4.
[137 1 [MODERN PHILOLOGY, October, 1912
2 E. PRESTON DARGAN

dignity and harmonyof language, by the exhibitionof strongly


centeredaction and passion, by the use of a manneredartistryto
importthe one principalnoveltythat he consideredpossibleafterthe
wide exploitationof the greatmasters. Yet he was forcedto certain
relaxationsof his doctrine,not only, perhaps, throughthe public
expectationsaroused by his controversywithLa Motte Houdar, but
mainlythroughhis interestin thoseveryplays ofShakespearewhose
introductionto the reading public he firstforwardedand then
deplored as dangerous.1 It will be found that his hesitationsand
variationsare chieflyabout ratherminormatters. No surersign of
the failingof the genuinevis tragicathan that most of the dramatic
discussion in those days was about "rules" firstand incidental
technique afterward. Would it not be permissible,asks Voltaire,
to give, as the English do, the names of "real" kingsand queens ?
The stage must not be a "lieu de carnage"-but could he not be
allowed to show a little blood on Caesar's robe ? Might not the
unityof place includea ratherextensibleplace ? What is the matter
with taking subjects frommediaeval and oriental history? And,
more importantly,what about the introductionof heart-interest ?2
In his own plays he has answeredthese questionswithvarying
degreesof assurance; and severalof his compromisesseemedgood to
his contemporaries,particularlyto Ducis. He visited the East3 in
Zaire and Mahomet; in La Mortde CUsar,Antonymakes his speech
over a blood-besprinkled corpse; in Brutus,slightshiftsof scene are
maneuvredbetweenthe outside and the insideof the consul's house;
in this play and in (Edipe a heart-interestis dragged in by force,
whereasLa Mort de CUsaris strippedbare of femininer6les. Zaire
has a touch of Crebillon'strickeryin the fraternalrelationship(un-
knownto the heroine'slover) whichexistsbetweenZaire and Neres-
tan. In none of these plays, whetherimitated fromShakespeare
or not, do we findthe scorned"multiplicityof interest,"the broken
and realisticlanguage of crowds,or any mixtureof kinds.4 As to

1 See Lounsbury, Shakespeare and Voltaire,New York, 1902.


2 These views will be found for the most part in the Prdface d' (Edipe and the Discours
sur la traggdie.
3 Ducis followed him there in A bufar; but by that time the Orient had won again for
literatiits old position as the home of the romanesqueand the apologue.
4 Such as, deriving from Shakespeare, produced later Hugo's theory of the grotesque.
138
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 3

expression,the fortressis still held in the name of dignityand elo-


quence; but save in the best purple patches there is more than a
tendencyfor the dloquenceto become rhetoric. In Crebillon and
Ducis it became that pulseless unrelatedrhetoricwhich substitutes
characterlessverbiageforthe psychologyof Racine, simplexmundi-
tiis. When to this have been added, as cross-currentsfromthe
com'dielarmoyante, increasingstreamsof philanthropicand domestic
tears,one may even now ask whetherthe point in tragedyattained
by Ducis was not the nadir.
That distinction,it is true, is claimed for Crebillon himselfby
Brunetiere: Crebillonis eitheraltogetheroutside of tragedyor he is
its forlornhope,its "phantom."' Withoutdwellingon this peculiar
dramatist,it may be shownin what respectshis techniquepaved the
way for Ducis. Crebillon stands for the use of such horrorsas
parricideand incest,in a way to keep theireffectforthe imagination
while mitigatingit in fact. In the past, they are told of in recit.
In the action itself,they threaten rather than occur; and when
parricide(in the more generalFrenchsense) does occur the absolute
monstrousis avoided by a liberal use of incognito.2 Oreste kills his
relativesunwittingly;Pharasmane kills his son Rhadamiste undera
false name; Atr&eindeed desires to slay his brotherand does slay
his nephew,but Atr&eis an exceptionallystronghorror. As a rule,
disguises and misunderstandingsprotect the brother who might
marrythe sister3and excuse the parricidalhand. Other violences
actually occur in all crudity,such as tryingto drown one's wife,
strikingone's mother,and givinga fatherhis son's blood to drink.
Such was the "new shudder" that Crebillongave the stage.
I will anticipate by saying that certainof these veneeredmelo-
dramatic terrors,which in spite of their author's twisted formula
did not lead to pity,have theirmilderecho in Ducis. Eitherwriter,
althoughchoosingsubjects akin to thoseof Euripidesand Sophocles,4

1Brunetibre, Epoques du thedtrefrangais, Paris, 1893, pp. 192-216 (Rhadamiste et


Zenobie).
2 See Lanson, loc. cit., also Hist. de la litt. fr. (11th ed.), pp. 646-47. Cr6billon's
chief plays, after Atreeet Thyeste,are Electre, 1708, Rhadamiste et Zenobie, 1711.
3 Something like this looms in nearly all these dramas.
4 The subjects generally of primitive times or stage-craft,of mythological rehandlings.
Compare Wagner and the pre-Shakespearean atrocities.
139
4 E. PRESTONDARGAN

is much less Greek than Byzantine: there are too many signs of
decadence, too much artificialexpressionand romanesquejuggling
for the sense of fate and the sweepingpall of tragedy. Cr6billon
soon acknowledgedhis error,in wordswhoseveryspiritsubsequently
stimulatedour dramatist:'
Jevoisbienque j'ai eu tortde concevoir
tropfortement la trag6diecomme
uneactionfuneste qui devaitetrepresent6eauxyeuxdesspectateurs sousdes
imagesint6ressantes;qui doitles conduireAla piti6parla terreur: maisavec
desmouvements etdestraits quineblessent
ni leurd&licatesse,
ni lesbiensdances.
That voices exactlythe ambitionof Ducis. But I do not predi-
cate the direct influenceof Cr6billon across two generations. It
seems a question to a certain extent of a common aim and, to a
largerextent,of social and dramaticconditionsthat had survived-
with a demand for added decorations. Ducis indeed ratherlooks
askance at his predecessor,calling him a "singular" person,"plein
d'une vigueurinculteet d'une rudesseoriginale." And he adds that
Cr6billon"fut presque 6trangera sa nation comme a son siecle."2
Qualifyingthe last statement,one may recall that Shakespearebore
much the same reputation.
A commonset of conditionswould also account fortwo apparent
infiltrationsfromthe comedielarmoyanteinto the pages of Ducis.
Everybody was more or less lachrymoseand Ducis particularlyso.
Everybody wanted art to representgoodness after the order of
Greuze; and the depiction of villains who may be admirable au
fondis not originalwith La Chauss&eor Ducis: it findsdefensein
Corneille,3rencherissant on Aristotle.
Such then mightreasonablybe the contortionsthat Shakespeare
would have to undergoon being forcedinto the neo-classicmold.
He might be diluted with tears; he might be forcedintobrutal
though somehow bienseantesattitudes; but whatever his attitude,
he would speak in very VoltairianAlexandrines,withdeferenceto a
"sort of general oneness," abstractness, and politeness. Would
this also accord with the personalityand ideals of the Shakespeare-
purveyor,Ducis ?
1 Preface, dated 1715, to Atrgeet Thyeste-italics mine.
2
Euvres, I, 11. The edition used is that of 1826, 4 vols. Nepveu, Paris. The
Shakespearean plays occupy the firsttwo volumes.
3 In the Discours de l'utilite et des parties du po me dramatique.
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SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 5

II
He was a man of excellentcharacterand heart. He abounded
in all kindsofgenuineaffection, paternal,filial,and towardhisfriends.
His lettersare frequentlyvery charmingbits of prose, and Sainte-
Beuve would have us rememberthat fact when impatientwith the
apparently conventionalrhetoricof his dramas.1 His impeccable
private life, the proven esteem of his contemporaries,and the
intensityof his affectionsare pointsto be borne in mind. He was
the genuineMan of Feeling of his age.
He conceived of himselfotherwise. He was a "wild bird," a
"vieux chine a demidepouillhet rugueux."2 The best-known painting
of him, caught in the act of writingLear, presentshim with flying
locks and a skyward-pointing craggyexpression. "I1 etait lion par
son pere,disait-il,et bergerpar sa mere." And Sainte-Beuvefollows
with approval of the style and psychologyof this self-criticism:
"'I1 y a dans mon clavecinpoetique,' disait-il,'des jeux de fltiteet de
tonnerre: commentcela va-t-il ensemble? Je n'en sais trop rien,
mais cela est ainsi."'
The truthis that all the thunderof Le Roi Lear is not wortha
single pastoral note fromhis kindly letters. He deceived himself
about his inspiration,as did manya would-be"romantiquelchevel6"
like Jules Lefevre or Boulay-Paty. Neither they nor Ducis were
otherthan mild-mannered gentlemenwho triedto constructan astral
selffittedto dwell in the midstofalarms. The dramesombre, amply
derided by Voltaire,was the natural frameforDucis' projectionof
his tragicmuse: his sunnytemperament reactedsafelyamongliterary
horrors. But his own charactershows in the native goodnessof all
his heroesand several of his villains.
He extended his affectionsto include his admirations; and the
chief of these, very consistently,were Shakespeare and Voltaire.
He kept beforehis eyes in writingHamletan engravingof its original
author and another of Garrick in the title-r6le. He always

1 Ste.-Beuve, Causeries du lundi, VI, 456-73, and Nouveaux lundis, IV, 318-91.
Also G. Pellissier, "Le Drame Shakespeareen" in Essais de litt. contemporaine,4th ed.,
Paris, 1894, pp. 69-109. The disposition of Ducis comes out clearly from his correspon-
dence ((Euvres, IV) and from the hpitres d&dicatoiresto his plays. Hamlet and Le Roi
Lear are affectionatelydedicated respectively to his father and mother (I, 69-71; 321-24.)
2 Ste.-Beuve, VI, 457-58, 471.

141
6 E. PRESTON DARGAN

celebrated Shakespeare's birthday,which he called the "f6te de


Saint-Guillaume." Crowning the bard's bust with flowers,Ducis
would tell Campenon, "Les anciens couronnaient de fleurs les
sources oci ils avaient puis&."1 It is an authentic case of literary
engouement.
Voltaire's second fulminatingletter on Shakespeare was read
before a seance of the Academy in March, 1778. Just a year
afterwardthat institutionwelcomedas Voltaire'ssuccessorthe man
whose task it was to reconcilethe two systems. Time's revenges
wereswift; yet Ducis' Discourson this occasion is all to the honorof
his French master and is more than the conventionaltribute. It
containsas well his own ars dramatica.2
He holds firstthat Voltaire's renown,traversingall Europe to
reach posterity,sprang originallyfromhis theater. In using the
English influence(concerningwhich Ducis has an excellentpage)
Voltaire acted like a legislatorwho should striveto importbarbaric
virtuesinto a civilized-and enervated-race. His methodwas to
give more energyto the action, more vehemenceto the interest,
the dialogue, and the pathos. Consequently, in painting love,
Voltairedrewtragedyfromthe faded gallantryand bad taste of the
lesser Racinian imitatorsby insistingon the principle that love
should eitherdominatethe stage or shouldnot appear at all.
All this sounds like eulogy indeed, but fairlyintelligenteulogy.
The subtle dangeris that Ducis, like all eighteenth-century dramatic
theorists,sounds much moreplausible in speechesand prefacesthan
he does in plays; and that here he is really admiringVoltaire only
forthe same plausibility,unsupportedby consistentaction. For if
the latter makes the point about the dominationof love, we have
seen that he neverthelesstwice gives the heart-interest a feebleand
secondarypart.
Continuing,Ducis differentiates his predecessor'streatmentofthe
master-passionfromthat of Racine: Voltaireis less nuance,stronger
in sweep, and his masculine lovers are as impetuous as himself;
but the women-and here is where Ducis most commendshim-

1 Quoted by Ste.-Beuve,VI, 472. See forDucis' characterthe Noticeby Campenon


in the former's(Euvres,IV, iii-xcviii.
2 Euvres, I, 1-51.
142
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 7

are possessed above all of "cette sensibilitedouce et tendre." For


example, Zaire is shown as sweet ratherthan strong,as seductive
ratherthan overpowering.
But Voltaire has "enlarged the field of tragedy among us."
(Indeed it was one of the Patriarch'schiefclaims.) This is how he
did it: "C'est lui qui le premiera fait entendreces cris dechirants
et terriblessortisdu coeurd'une mere; qui a os6 substituerles trans-
ports de la nature a ceux de l'amour." This shows a momentary
forgetfulness of Racine on the part of Ducis, but it shows more
than anythingelse an approval of his master'scourse in frequently
depicting the family affections. The word "nature" is used in
exactly the same sense by Auger,in attributingthe same dramatic
meritto Ducis:1 "Thomas disait a son ami: 'Vous serez le porte
de la nature.' .... C'est aux sentimentsde la naturequ'il doit ses
plus heureuses aspirations et ses succes les plus 6clatants." Prac-
ticallyall of the versionsthat we shall considerfullydevelop one or
another of the natural affections.
Voltaireis furtherpraisedforthe varietyof nationsand manners
that he depicts-another point that the Patriarchhad made himself
-and Semiramisis creditedwith giving the "premier exemple de
ce merveilleuxeffrayantet sombre"; this refersto the question of
apparitions which had already troubled Ducis in connectionwith
Hamlet. Follows an interestingdefenseof the rdcit,whichdeserves
to rank as a classic plea:
Mais avec quel art il a distingu6les moments d'actionqui deviennent
pluseffrayantsou plusmajestueux quandonlesvoit,de ceuxquelesprestiges
doiventembellir
de l'imagination ou crier,et qu'il ne fautpointvoirpouren
Wtre frapp6d'unemanikre pluspuissante.
The rules in general,declares Ducis, are made to be observed.
It is true that a "happy irregularity,"artistic enthusiasm,may
sometimesimpose and subjugate. But "it is not in this assembly,"
he prudentlyadds, "that I invite talent to free itselffromthose
rules, which are only the usual march of genius watched over by
taste." Yet elsewhere2he makes one bold exception,in favor of
Shakespeare,to the tyrannyof rules,and adds that his freedomdoes
1 L. S. Auger in the Avertissement
to Ducis' (Euvres, I, viii.
2 Avertissementto Le Roi Lear, I, 325.
143
8 E. PRESTONDARGAN

not at all diminishthe glory"du plus vigoureuxet du plus 6tonnant


po'te tragique qui ait peut-^trejamais exist,." It is not the only
timethat Ducis is caughtbetweenhis two admirations.
His praises of Voltaire for the "idle sublime" of making the
stage a moralagent are muchwhat we mightexpect. More pointed
is the dwellingon sentiment,which he calls the "firsttruth" and
whicheasily redeemsVoltaire's occasional offensesagainst vraisem-
blance and regularity. "Je demanderai," he challenges, "si au
th6atrele jugementdes pleursne l'emportepas surceluide la raison."
The only importantword which Ducis uses more frequentlythan
pleursis the word larmes.
His discoveryof feelingin Voltaire makes him prone also to
observe that author's "humanity." This incidentallyis the trait
that loomed large in Shakespeare,accordingto the authorsof the Le
Tourneurtranslation;Ducis musthave seentheirsignificant observa-
tion that "descendingto the poor man's hut,he saw humanitythere
and did not disdain to depict it."' Ducis personallydid not often
descend to that hut: he remainedamong the circlesfrequentedby
Voltaire. Hence his awkward dilemma-how to reconcilehis own
humanityand that of Shakespeare with the neo-classic "nobility'"
of personagesand language. The most perplexingdilemmaof all is
best given in his own words:2

Je n'ignorais pas que la s6v6rit6 de nos r6gleset la ddlicatesse


de nos
nous
spectateurs chargent de chaines quel'audaceanglaise et
brise d6daigne,
et sous le poids desquellesil nousfautpourtant marcher dansdes chemins
avec l'airde l'aisanceet de la libert6.
difficiles
The Voltairian technique of Ducis, independentlyof what ele-
ments Shakespeare furnished,may just here be illustratedby his
(Edipe chez Admite (1778).3 This play, of the same date as the
eulogiumwhichI have summarized,largelyfollowsVoltaireboth in
subject and method. The Patriarch,to please the groundlings,had
introducedinto the Oedipus storya love-intriguewhich was subse-
quently deemed superfluous; Ducis fused the Alkestis with the
1 Quoted by Jusserand, Shakespeare in France under the Ancien Regime, New York
and London, 1899, p. 416. The English translation of this work is the more generally
accessible and will be often cited.
2 , 325.
3I, 237-317.
144
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 9

Oedipusat Colonus-and afterward(1797) took out the Colonus part,


makingit a separatedrama in threeacts. Both writersthenhesitate,
forall their classic descent,concerningthe unity of action. Ducis
further,by bringingin Admetus and his palace (in addition to the
Fates and their temple), renounces complete unity of place. He
generallydoes. And one main differencebetween the neo-classic
drama and its Racinian prototypeis that the former, whiledogmatiz-
ing about the unities,shufflesand compromiseswhen it comes to
performance;it tries to stitch up a garmentthat is too loose for
Racine and too tightforShakespeare.
Without followingthe peripities of Ducis' play, one may call
attentionto the exposition,whichis workedlike Voltaire'sby means
ofthe arrivalof a strangerat court; to the excess ofvague and banal
rewordings;to the methodof fillingthe gaps betweenacts by recits;
to the unusual lengthof these makeshifts-thereis one of seventy
lines; to such Voltairian devices as interruptionwith suspension
(. .. .), antitheses, common rimes, chevilles,and repetitionslike
"il vient, il vient." There are gleams of preciosity-as distin-
guishedfromthe moreabundant periphrasis-in such expressionsas
"tes jours me sont acquis" or "rouvrir encoreson flanc" of one's
sad country. More characteristicof Ducis himselfare the soft
words ("mes doux embrassements"), the stale figures,and the
inevitable floodof tritemoral and sensiblereflections.

III
We are stillnot certainto what extentShakespearewas popular-
ized as reading-matter,when Ducis began the stage-versionswith
Hamlet in 1769. The curiosityfirstaroused by the Lettresphilo-
sophiques (1734), stimulatedby the well-informed Prevost and Le
Blanc's Lettresd'un Frangaisd Londres,'could hardlyhave been quite
satisfiedby La Place's meagretranslations.2 The firsttwo volumes
of his workare devoted to Shakespeare: La Place professedlytrans-
lates Othello,Henry VI, Richard III, Macbeth,and Hamlet. For
the last of these and one other,he will serve as a source to Ducis.
La Place analyzed more plays than he translated,and even in the
1 Three vols., The Hague, 1745.
2 Thditre anglais, 8 vols., 1745-48.
145
10 E. PRESTON DARGAN

earlier group,as Le Blanc said, analyses proved no less acceptable


than "extraits."i
The propaganda of La Place-who had ratherpenetratingviews
on Shakespeare-and later of Garrick,Mme. Riccoboni,etc., do not
stand out sharplyfromthe generalAnglomaniaof the time. It was
usually a zeal not accordingto knowledge. Shakespeare was con-
fused with the drame sombre;2the legends concerningYoung and
Ossian traversedthe land; sentimentalityformedstrangealliances
with a nascent realism. The English influence,which, as I think
may be shown, had been primarilyphilosophicalunder Voltaire's
earliersway,became mainlybelletristicafterthe turnofthe century.
The conditionofthe publicmind,in 1769,would exhibitan uncertain
amount of knowledgeand a largeramountof curiosity.
Ducis himselfknew practicallyno English and was dependent
upon the French versions. But he caught the movementon the
rise and the success of his second-handrenderingsis indubitable.
This fact and still morethe wide popularityof Le Tourneur'strans-
lations3provoked,as is wellknown,thelast stand ofVoltaire,alarmed
at the size of the avalanche that he had originallyloosened.4 Yet,
grantinga popular hearingforShakespeare,it cannot be too often
recalled what an adulterated article was served under that name
and how it was servedto an audience morerafin6,conventional,and
timorousthan any otherrecordedin dramatichistory.
Hamlet was our author's firstand not least importantattempt
to please this audience. It appears that the subject was already
betterknownthan the rest of Shakespeare,throughmany excerpts
and allusions,throughthe eternaldebate (Voltaire,La Place, et al.)
over the introductionof the grave-diggers. The question of the
ghost-close kin to the ghost that killed Voltaire's Semiramis-was
1 Pellissier, article cited, p. 81. Cf., for the general Shakespearean vogue, Jusserand,
pp. 214 ff.
2Which apparently sprang from English melodrama.
3 Twenty vols., Paris, 1776-82. Vols. I and II (1776) contained Othello and Julius
Caesar; Vols. III and IV (1778), Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet; Vols. V and VI (1779),
Lear and Hamlet. From these dates, and fromother detailed testimony, it can be proven
that Ducis uses Le Tourneur for the last four of his six versions. Le Tourneur is far
superior to La Place. He is still current in Guizot's adaptation. On the whole he seems
to have done fairlywell forhis time, though his " literalness " still formsmatter fordebate.
See Miss Cushing, Pierre Le Tourneur, New York, 1908.
4 The first Lettre 4 l' Acadgmie was read on the appearance of Le Tourneur's first
volume in 1776.
146
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 11

also ofa throbbingactuality,and a thirdquestion,that ofthe funeral


urn,owed its birthto Ducis' personalcreativeness.
Perplexed and haunted by the mad Englishmen's genius, he
proposes the subject of Hamlet to Lekain, who dissertsupon the
temerity of the enterpriseand politely refuses. The dramatist
notifiesus in his preface,"J'ai done et6 oblig6en quelque fagonde
cr6erune piece nouvelle"'-to temperthat wind to the lambs of the
parterre. ShakespearefilteredthroughLa Place into Ducis gave "a
hybriddrama, Greek and Danish, Frenchand English all at once."2
Like every play we deal with, it is writtenin Alexandrines
throughout.3The unities are preserved,in that the action passes
entirelyin the palace and the question of time does not come up at
all.4 The list of personages include a Hamlet, king of Denmark;
a Gertrude,his mother,widow of the late king; a Claudius, first
prince of the blood; an Ophelie, daughterof Claudius; an Elvire,
confidante of Gertrude. There are only three other speaking
parts, though Polonius (as confidantto Claudius and a sort of
accommodating"super") speaks mach less than in the originaland
"Norceste" merelylistensto Hamlet.
The exposition begins immediately,in the classic way, by a
statementof the political situationand the etatd'dme of Claudius.
He tells about a sinisterstormthat accompanied the death of the
late king and quotes a lengthyspeech of his own deliveredon that
occasion. He is conspiringwith Polonius to unseat Hamlet, and
fortunatelyhe has Gertrudeunder his thumb. The ghost scene of
courseis dispensedwith; Hamlet, instead of appearing,is described
as "mourant," "morne." In the second scene, Claudius pays court
in formto Gertrude. But she refusesto hear him. She is repentant
fromthe beginningon account of theirdouble crime-for Gertrude
is consideredas guiltyas Claudius. She wishesthe memoryof their
passion to perish and lives only to see her son crowned. Leaving
Claudius withan exhortationto a betterlife,she sends forPolonius

1 Quoted by Pellissier, p. 90. The title-r1le was subsequently given to Mole.


2 Jusserand, p. 419. In this volume (pp. 416-35) are given short and pointed descrip-
tions of the plays I shall discuss. By analyzing them more in detail, I hope constantly
to bring out that sharp antagonism of Shakespeare v. neo-classicism.
3 The only exception is the incidental one of the willow-song in Othello. See below.
' "Hamlet, tragedie en cinq actes, imit6e de l'anglais," (Euvres, I, 67-152.
147
12 E. PRESTON DARGAN

to carryout herorders. She learnsofthearrivalofHoratio-Norceste,


who will, she hopes, enliven Hamlet's melancholy. It will readily
be seen that none of these interviewsare in Shakespeare.
In the second act, Gertrudefullyconfessesher crimesto Elvire.
She had intendedgivingpoison to her husband withher own hand-
but she faltersbeforethe actual deed and only leaves the cup where
he drinks it. Thus even retrospective"crudity" is avoided. It
seemsthat the kingwas takingmedicine,or in neo-classicphraseology
Empruntait le secoursde ces puissantsbreuvages
Dont un artbienfaisantmontrales avantages.
When Elvire asks, "What monsterled you to this forfait?" the
queen answers simply,"L'amour." Her love, if guilty,is at least
refinedand repentant. In Shakespeare what is between the two is
not love at all-it is effectiverealism. But here no one hurls the
rudeepithetswhichclash in everypage ofthe original; the grossfacts
are veiled as much as may be by an elegantremorse,by manifesta-
tions of a mother'spersistentaffection. Indeed Gertrudeis almost
sympathetic. It may be said at once that she is really cast forthe
heroineof the play. The point is then broughtout that everybody
fearsHamlet. The reason forthis is hard to imagine,since Hamlet,
the redoubtable, now comes on fleeingfrom the ghost. He has
already,accordingto report,shoutedhis frightful cries "all over the
place "-perhaps hardlya classicrenderingof "ces lieux." This is in
lieu of the grimironyof "Art thou there,truepenny?" etc. The
ghostis hererestrictedto his normalhabitat,the coulisse.
Norceste,who appears as the third confidant,had writtenthe
prince concerningthe death of a contemporaryEnglish monarch
(we are not told which),who had been poisonedby hiswife. Hamlet
now says that this incident firstawakened his suspicions of his
own relatives. He tells these suspicionsto Norceste, whereas the
real Hamlet makes no such confidence. Follows a recitofthe ghost's
revelations, substituted for two of Shakespeare's scenes. It is
related how Hamlet summoned the "dear and terrible shade,"
who came and called for vengeance, reappeared, called again for
vengeance, and was generally fearsome. Observe that Hamlet
describedhimselfas trembling,eperdu,feeble:
le meurtre
La piti6m'attendrit, m'6pouvante.
148
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIs 13
His native indecisionand weaknessare exaggeratedin Ducis. They
markhimfromthe verybeginning,beforethe "pale cast ofthought"
has had time to operate. The real Hamlet respondsinstinctively
to his father'sfirstcall; this man runs away fromthe ghost to the
arms of Norceste,who cannot subdue his terrorswiththe assurance
that the apparitionis nothingbut a bad dream. Yet he and other
charactersconstantlyinformus that Hamlet is furious,terrible,a
"tigre impitoyable." It is all a part of the same vicious theoryof
substitutingwords for action.
Now comes in the curious inventivenessof Ducis. The whole
device of the play-king and play-queen is done away with, and
in its stead it is agreed that Norceste shall relate to the guilty
ones his story of the poisoned English king-the purpose being of
course to extract their confessionand discomfiture. The scene
closes with an allusion to the funeralurn of the late king, which
Hamlet will bringout, if only to "fatigue the eyes" of the criminals.
Claudius and Polonius introduceAct III by more conspiring.
Claudius thinkshe can handle satisfactorilythe matterof Hamlet's
coronation. This threatenedceremony,by the way,is used through-
out as a connectinglink and an element of suspense. Claudius
has skilfullywon over a large party by spreadingthe belief that
Hamlet himselfpoisoned his father-whence his melancholy. With
the entranceof the others,an opportunityis given forNorcesteto
tell his King-of-England anecdote. This trickis playedin a singularly
unconvincing and undramatic manner. The result, however,
just contraryto Shakespeare, is that Claudius brazens it out with
ease and Gertrudeis the one who is disturbed,thoughnot to excess.
Aftera vague consultationbetweenthesetwo,Ophelieat last appears.
Oph6lie, being the daughter of Claudius, the niece of Gertrude,
the cousinof Hamlet, servesas the knotto thisnew dramedefamille.
But her r8le is perhaps where Ducis has best succeeded,the reason
being that, madness apart, she is almost ingenuein Shakespeare.
The young girl will now make, with Madame's permission,a dis-
closureto her aunt. It is to the effectthat the cause of Hamlet's
gloomis reallynothingbut his love forherand his despairof bringing
that love to a happy termination. For we learn that the late king
had harshlyforbiddenOphelie to marry. The repentantGertrude
149
14 E. PRESTON DARGAN

listenssympathetically,
revokes the decree,and promises her bless-
ing.
The fourthact, opening with Hamlet's soliloquy, offersas fair
an opportunityfortextualcomparisonas we shall have:
Je ne sais que r6soudre. . . . immobileet troubl6. . . .
C'estrestertroplongtemps de mondouteaccabl6;
C'est tropsouffrirla vie et le poidsqui metue.
Eh! qu'offredonela mortAmonameabattue?
Un asileassur6,le plusdouxdes chemins
Qui conduitau reposles malheureux humains.
Mourons. Que craindre encorequandon a cess6d'etre?
La mort . . . . c'est le sommeil . . . . c'est un r6veilpeut-etre.
Peut-6tre . . . . Ah! c'est ce mot qui glace 6pouvant6
L'hommeau borddu cercueilparle doutearret6.
Devantce vasteabymeil se jetteen arriere,
Ressaisitl'existence,et s'attachea la terre.
Dans nostroubles pressansqui peutnousavertir
Des secretsde ce mondeoiftoutva s'engloutir ?
Sans l'effroi
qu'il inspire,et la terreur
sacr6e
Qui d6fendsonpassageet siegea sonentr6e,
Combiende malheureux iraientdansle tombeau,
De leurslonguesdouleursd6poserle fardeau!
Ah! que ce portsouventestvu d'unceild'envie
Par le faibleagit6surles flotsde la vie!
Mais il craintdansses maux,au-delAdu tr6pas,
Des mauxplusgrandsencore,et qu'il ne connaitpas.
Redoutableavenir,tu glacesmoncourage!
Va, laisseAma douleuracheversonouvrage.
Mais je voisOph61lie.Oh,si des traitssi doux
Suspendaient mestourmens!

Nymph,in thyorisons
Be all mysinsremembered.
It will be seen that only a few phrases in this clearly reflect
Shakespeare. The rest,poetic expressionapart, shows a similarity
ofgeneralmovement,withstop-gapsintroducedby La Place or Ducis.
Yet in spite of inversionsand banalities,perhapsbecause of a certain
respectable harmony,the soliloquy is better rendered-from the
French standpoint-than we might anticipate, much better than
anythingelse in the play.
150
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 15

Ophelie,enteringat the peroration,is not told to go to a nunnery,


because Hamlet still remains decidedly in love withher. But his
tragic secretseparates them; she pleads in vain to share it. There
is a ratherpathetic scene betweenthe lovers. The interventionof
Gertrude,her exhortationsto cheerfulnessand marriage,provoke
a morevivid appearance of the ghost. Hamlet, "seeing the shade,"
becomes excited, addresses it, and ends by obscurelythreatening
Claudius. There is nothingof the prayer scene or the slaying of
Polonius. The act ends with another dreary political discussion
betweenClaudius and his henchman.
The next and last opens with Norceste bringingin that fateful
urn,by way of grave-yardscene. Oph6liepleads forClaudius, but
Hamlet seemsnow to have set his resolution-
Ma gloireestd'etrefils.
Taking issue with her on the paternal question, Hamlet enunciates
this excellentsentiment:
Mais un vertueux pereestun bienpr6cieux
Qu'on ne tientqu'unefoisde la bont6des dieux.
He has beforeinformedus that
sontpareils,quandla causeestla meme.
Les effets
Ducis has dared to render the strange solemn scene between
motherand son. It is one of the fewthingswhichhe has preserved,
and the method of it is this: Hamlet tells his motherwhat he is
going to do; he accuses her, sadly and sternly,as in the English-
but without the realism. The urn, whose ashes according to the
superstitionhave seemed to stirat her entrance,will officiatein the
supremetest. Since his motherwill not admit her guilt,he requires
of herto swear herinnocenceover this altar. She attemptsto do so
and faints,whichwas one of the resourcesof formergood-breeding.
Hamlet fallsmoved and appeased at her feet.
The coronationaffair,which has been hangingin the balance,
precipitatesthe denouement.The much-usedghostentersonce more.
Claudius and the crowd rush on and attack Hamlet, but in a mild
way, withoutclash of swords. Hamlet then,in one version,actually
kills Claudius on the stage, almost an unheard-ofthing; but in a
151
16 E. PRESTON DARGAN

moreacceptable variant-Ducis frequentlydodges behinda variant


-the princeretiresto the coulisseforthisdeed, thencomes back and
tellsabout it, muchas in Merope. Gertrudeconfessesthe poisoning,
thoughnot herinfidelity, and killsherself; whichwas usual enough.
Hamlet survives. He has decided to follow Ophilie's advice to
"groan no more,but reign," forduty's sake.
Jesauraivivreencore;je faisplusque mourir.
Such is the conclusion,quite in Voltaire's antitheticalvein.
The great divergencesare evident. There is much less blood:
Hamlet is left,Polonius is left,Ophelie is left-and she does not go
mad. The effectof the conspiracydetail is even to mitigatethe
vengeance motifin the slaying of Claudius. We observe the beau
r6le given Gertrude,the slurringof infidelity. Claudius himself
is a naif sortof villain. M. Jusserandpointsout that the "king and
queen .... declare their intentionswith the most dangerous
simplicity. Ducis' monsters are black, but not complicated."'
There is no grim humorouscontrast,as representedby the grave-
diggersor Polonius. The characters,the philosophy,the tragedy
are all quite attenuated, strictly according to the neo-classical
prescription. Ducis' habit of explaining,repeating,expandingby
commonplacesfurtherserves immoderatelyto water his littlewine.
The reason for dwelling on this Shakespearean echo is that
historicallyit is the most importantof these attemptsand further-
more it gives the type. It shows how Ducis took fromhis master,
as Pellissiersays,2hardlymorethan "une certaineexcitationchaleu-
reuse pour se monterl'imagination sur les memes sujets." And
Sainte-Beuve,indicatinghow Shakespearewas sentimentalizedd la
Young, declares:3 "Aux tragedies de Ducis, il ne faut demander
ni plan, ni stylesuivi,mais des mots et quelques scenes."
Ducis, "bonhomme Ducis," as Napoleon called him, his happy
gift of conciliationonce proven, did well to continue on his easy
path. He watched his public to some effect. Three years later he
gave to the world Romeo et Juliette(1772),4 a subject which had
already been staged by youngChastelluxin 1770. At firsta doubt-
ful success, Ducis' play was workedover and "alla aux nues." Its
1 Op. cit., p. 419. 3 C. de 1., VI, 459.
2 P. 94. 4 (Euvres, I, 157-234.
152
SHAKESPEARE AND DUCis 17

finaltriumphwas partlydue to thefactthatits authorhad twostrings


to his bow.
The plot is takenbothfromShakespeareand Dante. The former
gave the groundworkof a love-affairbetweenrival familiesand the
latter furnisheda grislybut distant episode. Ducis, in his preface,
bows in passingto his sources,but considersit "inutile de m'6tendre
sur les obligations."' Shakespeareis muchdeletedof course,and the
action is patched in with the story of Ugolino and his sons-the
ravenousr61ebeing assignedto old Montaigu. Ducis remarksthat
the audienceseemedpleased withthe charactetof this dwellerin the
woods and avenger of sons, a sort of Timon manque,whose soul,
however,was "autrefoisvertueuseet tendre." We are again in the
presenceofruffians who musthave theirsoftside; it is the Cornelian
virtue universallybestowed.
In piecing two sources together,as he did also in (Edipe chez
Admite, the dramatist ventures on certain departures from the
strict classic tradition,since the scene changes to the tomb in the
last act. From halfa dozen instances,it is clear that Ducis does not
mind tamperingwith the unity of place; it is rare, however,that
he keeps the fulltragicending,as he does in this play. The list of
characters again is shortenedby half. The gossipingnurse, like
Polonius,is replacedby a characterlessconfidante,Mercutiobecomes
Alb6ric,Tybalt and the otherroysterersvanish entirely. Dolv6do,
a youngman of mysteriousantecedents,is the loverof Juliette. He
is representedas a "generous warrior,"and "Dolvedo" is the nom
de guerreof Romdo,son of Montaigu. Juliettealone is in possession
ofthissecret,thoughshe impartsit to herconfidantein the firstfifty
lines. There is a great deal about banishment and, as always,
about filialand fraternalaffection. The childRomeo was tornfrom
his father'sarms, wanderedabout a time,and finally,all unknown,
was adopted by Capulet, in whose house he was broughtup. This
fosteringpropinquitymay explain the attachment of the lovers;
but it hardlyexplains the omissionof the balcony scene. Instead,
Dolvedo comes in with "des drapeaux" in the L'Aiglon style and
addresses this salutatory to his lady:
Jepuisdone,contentet glorieux,
Madame,avec transport a vos yeux.
reparaitre
1 I, 155.
153
18 E. PRESTON DARGAN

Characterizedalso as a "guerrierparvenu," the young man in


that capacity proceeds to boast of his martial exploits. The flags
are reallyforold Capulet, who comes in and looks them over with
an appraiser's eye, but gives the preferenceto Paris, the other
suitor. This fact is according to Shakespeare. But we do not
hear the clash of weapons,the roughand ready Tybalt, the servants
brawling. We have instead this drawing-roommilieu and one can
almostimaginethe old man takingsnuffand dabbingat his patches.
He says that Paris would be a convenientman in case of a fightand
Dolv6do must really help him make that match forJuliette. That
young lady, who has spoken prettilyenough when alone with her
lover, who has made a very respectfulremonstranceon the subject
of Paris, is shortly reproached with lukewarmnessby Dolv6do-
Romeo. She retorts-
J'aimoinsd'emportement, j'ai plusd'amour.
ingrat,
But the truthis that Julietteis by no means Shakespeare's ardent
heroine; she is enfeebled,inconsistent,conventional. Adjuringher
loverto be "virtuous," she demandsof him-
Pensez-vousqu'il soitlibreaux enfants
t6m6raires
De s'uniraux autelssansl'aveude leurspares?
Ducis at any rate does not want societyto thinkso; and that per-
haps is why he leaves the tragic ending.
The movementincreaseswhenold Montaigudescendsupon them
with wolflikehate and Orphicutterances. There are various inter-
views whichleave unraveledtwo mysteries-the identityof Romeo
and the reason forMontaigu's deeper desire forvengeance. There
is a stormyscene with Capulet, when,as in Shakespeare,the duke
of Veronatriesto patch up the feud. He has to arrestold Montaigu.
A fighttakes places none the less, and Romeo takes his father'spart
and kills Juliette'sbrother. Afterthat, he is alternatelyloved and
hated by her in accordance with the tradition. But there is still
"meprise"; Capulet appeals to Dolvedo-Romeo for vengeance on
Romeo, cleverly alluding to the flags. The mysteryof Romeo's
birththencomes out and thereis muchdeclamation.
The fourthact-always hard to keep in tone-introduces Ducis'
novelty. But firstFerdinandagain plays the peace-makerand with
154
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIs 19
more apparent effect. The lovers will unite themselvesand their
families. As the result of appeals to virtue and "citizenship,"
there is a generalattendrissement.Even old Montaigu requeststhe
company to be touched by his tears. But he is merelypretending
reconciliation-a trick that he may have learned fromAtr6e-in
orderto gain his ends. This is shown when he insiststhat Romeo
shall killJuliette. In quite an impressivescene mostofthe cordsare
pulled between father and son. The old man tells how he was
forcedto watch his other childrendone to death. It now appears
that twenty years ago Capulet's brother poisoned Montaigu's
offspring.They offeredhim their blood as sustenance; and now
they call for their enemy's. This is a genuine neo-classic thrill.
It is clearlyevidentthat Ducis has no objectionto pilingon horrors,
providedthey are heard of but seldom seen.1
The denouement in the tomb-a scene ratheruncalled foraccord-
ing to our dramatist's preliminaries-mightbe impressivefroma
spectacular standpoint. There is not the same series of mistakes
as in the original. Juliettedoes not kill herselffromgriefat the
death of Romeo; she dies first,wishingto removethe obstacle be-
tweenthe families. Both loversactually perishon the stage, show-
ing that the author's artisticconscienceoccasionallyoperates,even
to the exclusionof the variant.
It is a curiousrifacimento, somewhat less lively,on account of
the ground-toneof moralitiesand platitudes,than even the above
abstract. One is struckby the conventionality ofthelargerpartover
against the attempted soarings. When Ducis dared be bold, he
dared not be too bold, and the next momenthe dared not be bold
at all. The simplicityof his stage-craft,his lack of the "art des
pr6parations,"and his hurryto get everythingbeforeus may be
instancedby a device at the beginningof the play. AfterJuliette
has told her confidanteabout Dolvedo, the confidantesubmitsthis
broad hint: "Suppose the old man who has recentlycome here
should turn out to be Montaigu?" Juliettecounters: "Suppose
1 Jusserand (p. 425) alludes to the stricturespassed upon Ducis by the Correspondance
littgraire--also by La Harpe and Marmontel--for the blood-guiltiness of the Montaigu-
Ugolino story. But this very thing helped his success with the large public, which certainly
had no objection to taking its frisson from afar. Ste.-Beuve records that some of the
traits in the old man's rgcitwere deemed as beautiful as anything in Corneille (C. de 1.,
VI, 460).
155
20 E. PRESTONDARGAN

my uncle had done disastrousthingsto Montaigu's sons ?" Need-


less to say these are veryawkwardand unlikelyanticipationson the
part of the women. The principalfact about the play is that Mon-
taigu's toweralone remainsto strikethe eye on a horizonfromwhich
the passionate sweep of young love has vanished.

IV
Our good man is quiet for eleven years and in the meantime
Le Tourneur'stranslationappeared. It provokednot onlythe dying
howl of Voltaire but the recrudescenceof Ducis, who acknowledged
in a generalway its vogue and his indebtedness.' One may question,
however,whetherLear is any closerto Shakespearethan the Hamlet
of 1769. I cannot see that Le Tourneur,comparativelyfaithfulas
he was, stimulatedDucis to the exerciseof a like virtue. He dilutes,
curtails,and followshis own sweet will afterwardas before. What
may be grantedis a greaterease and a surerhand in followinghis
own peculiar technique. But whatevermay be thoughtof Ducis'
maturity,the intervalof time hardlyseems to betoken very much
advance in general dramatic tolerance. Le Roi Lear (1783) is in a
sense its author's "strongest" play, and its action may as well be
detailed for comparison.2
The Avertissement3 admitsa double debt, to Le Tourneurand to
his "own inventions." That the subject was a "happy" one is
proved by the flowingof his own tears duringcompositionand by
the tears of the audience afterward.4 The piece is therefore"utile
aux mceurs,"and otherfatherscould take theirchildrento it. We
may readilyimagine,indeed,the zeal withwhichDucis would attack
the subject of filial ingratitude. "Cependant, j'ai trembl6 plus
d'une fois,je l'avoue, quand j'ai eu l'id6e de faireparaitresurla sc6ne
franqaiseun roi dont la raison est alienee." Follows the passage
about the severityof rules.5
1" La traduction .... par M. Le Tourneur est entre les mains de tout le monde."-
I, 325.
2 I, 329-433. 3 I, 325-26.
4 Accordin'g to Ste.-Beuve the tears were de rigueur. The mild Ducis is reported to
have carried his daughters to a representation of Lgar and to have declared afterward:
" Si elles n'avaient pas fondu en larmes, je les aurais 6trangl6es de mes mains." (!)-C. de
1., VI, 462.
5 See above, p. 143.
156
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 21

The dramatispersonaeinclude twelve named characters,which


is very full for the neo-classic play. Yet certainnotable ones dis-
appear fromour vision. There is no Fool, in the firstplace. There
are no "France" and "Burgundy." Goneril-Voln6rille does not
appear on the stage. There is no Gloucesterand thesons ofGlouces-
ter-a model youth, Lenox, being substituted for the vigorous
bastard Edmund-are assigned to Kent; but this is an excusable
tighteningof the threads. The action is vaguely continuous. The
place changes: two acts are in the castle of Cornouaillesand three
are near a cavern in the forest. That is, there is one change of
scene as opposed to nearlytwentyin Shakespeare.
The action beginsonly afterthe divisionof the kingdomand the
banishmentof Cordelia-known as Helmonde. Oswald gives in a
recitto "Cornouailles" some of the previous history: Lear, the
"inconstant vieillard," installed with Voln6rille,regrets his loss
of power and his harshnesstoward Helmonde. Cornouailles ex-
presses his fear of revolutions,in which England is "f6conde";
he thinksthat troopsare hiddenin these very woods. Helmonde's
whereaboutsare unknown. Lear is characterizedas "extreme en
tout"; as in Shakespeare the very rashnessof his behaviortoward
his best-loveddaughter is used by the opposing side to argue his
generalfickleness.
Enter R6gane, Albany,and the two sons of the banished Kent.
Albanykeepshis "mild" r6le,speaks ofLear as an august benefactor,
and is not sureconcerningthe crimesimputedto Helmonde. Neither
is LUnox,who interruptsthe censoriousRegane with-
Des forfaits!Elle! O dieux,je ne les crusjamais!

L6nox will thus prove amourach6of Helmonde, though Edgard, his


brother,is the suitor who really counts. There is no such love-
affairin Shakespeare: the courtingthere assigned to "France"
consistedonly of a speech or two. Cornouailles,who has revoked
the banishmentof Kent, appeals to the latter's sons to aid him in
repellingthe "insolent Danes," whose threatenedattack replaces
that of France as enveloping action. But instead Lenox urges
Edgard to come with him and console the weariness of their old
father"sous son toit vertueux." Edgard refuses,saying he is not
157
22 E. PRESTON DARGAN

his own master,and L6nox, afterextollingthe happiness of Kent in


exile and the generalmeritof a Sabine farm,makes a clumsytransi-
tion to the fate of Helmonde. Edgard can that tale unfold: Hel-
monde,who wished to marryUlric the Dane, was accused by the
"adroite Voln6rille"of treason to her countryand the intentionof
poisoningher father. Banished and a fugitive,Edgard has hidden
her under the "impenetrable horrorof a tutelaryrock," i.e., in a
cave. Edgard describesHelmonde'sclothesand heraffecting attitude
when she hears of her father'sdownfall-

Quelquefois,au traversde sa douleurtouchante,


Un souriss'6garaitsursa boucheinnocente.

The combinationinspiredhim to assemble friends,whomhe has led


to revolt and whom he holds ready to strike the "'grand coup"
tonight.
Kent findsthe brothersand, uninformedof theirproject,remon-
strates in vain at his abandonment. There is much filialand fra-
ternalmatter,whichprovidesa poor echo of the Gloucestersubplot.
Shakespeare's admirable design of showing misplaced parental
confidencein both plots is here badly twisted,since Kent's sons are
too good. Albany returnsto informus that Lear has leftVolnerille
and that his reason is failing. Kent thereuponsays that he willnot
lament the death of his king-the only thingthat he would lament
in Shakespeare.
Kent apparentlyremainson the stage betweenacts, and an old
man is announced, blinded by tears, poverty-stricken, and with
senses chilled by the cold. It is Lear who then enters. At first
he does not know Kent (in spite of the fact that he is lookingfor
him),but thatnoblemanshortlythrowshimselfat his formermaster's
feet. This scene correspondsvaguelyto the one beforeGloucester's
castle. Ducis loses the effectof Lear's energeticanger and the
mountingeffectof the two interviewswith his daughters. Lear
speaks brokenly,already anticipatingthe loss of his reason and
strength,complainingof Voln6rilleinsteadof cursingher,remorseful
as to Helmonde. Kent tries to reassurehim, but admits that the
conduct of his own childrenleaves somethingto be desired (which
is artificiallyShakespearean) and concludes that both fathershad
158
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 23

betterrepairto the soil ofthe Sabine farm. L6ar wishesto approach


R6gane first. In the presence of her and Cornouailles,he alter-
nately requestsher hospitalityand upbraidsher-confusingherwith
Voln6rille. He apologizes for this and R6gane has taken no stand
as yet, when Kent returnsto deliver these fourremarkablelines:

(A part)Volwickm'a toutappris. (A L6ar)Non,tun'asplusde fille.


Ce palaisestpourtoi toutpleinde Voln~rille.
(Montrant le ducde Cornouailles)
R6ganeestdigneen toutde ce monstre odieux,
Tu cherchaisla vertu;le crimeesten ceslieux.
Neither "Volwick" nor anybody else informsus of what this
crimeis nor whyit should be immediatelycredited; whichis another
neo-classicway of assuminga terriblesituationin orderto conceal
it. Kent none the less is at once put in chains (which reduces to
half a line the scene of the stocks), and L6ar, refusingthe proffered
aid of Albany,calls down the wrathof heaven upon the offspring of
R6gane. Lear and Kent are left alone; presently Volwick comes
withthe more definiteexhortation:

Fuyez,le feus'apprete.
He speaks,and L6ar and Kent wanderout intothe storm.
The thirdact representsthe tempestand nightof Shakespeare,
the cavernand conspiracyof Ducis. Edgard addressesa body ofhis
soldiers to the effectthat they are to follow L6nox and save the
country. The situation of Helmonde, he says, is what chiefly
inflameshis ardor. That heroinejoins them,pleads forthe cause of
her father and receives their homage. An opportune burst of
thunderpresagesvictory.
Edgard, left alone with Helmonde, does not make love but
declares:
Bient6t,Lear veng6parleurvaleurguerriere
....
Dieux! vousversezdes pleurs!
This is a good example of "those suspensions,those solutions"
which were almost the only formof abruptness left to the neo-
classic tragedy. This one is probably imitated fromthe famous
"Zaire, vous pleurez" of Orosmane.
159
24 E. PRESTON DARGAN

Helmonde weeps, she avows, because she has a presentiment


that Regane in turn has chased her
(not particularlyvraisemblable)
fatherout intothe storm. Helmondeapostrophizesthe thunderand
the great gods, while Edgard urges the shelter of the souterrain.
They withdrawand L6ar then entersalone. He has lost his way;
he is exposed to a terrifictempest of wind, hail, and lightning.'
He also exhorts the storm to spend its furyon his feeble body.
Kent findshimand theyconversewitha humanitariantouchsuitable
to the year 1783-

Lear: Combiend'infortunds,soumisAnotreempire,
RWclament loinde nousla natureet nossoins!
J'aipeut-4tremoi-meme oubli6leursbesoins.
Le Comte: Non,vos peuplesjamaisn'ontsentila misbre.
L6ar: Crois-tuqu'encorpoureuxma m6moire soitchore?

But Kent, observingthe cavern,suggeststhat they retirethere.


L6ar, risingsuperiorto the storm,declares that a worse one will
soon be ragingin his own breast.
Up to this point, and very differently from Shakespeare, the
language has been calm and measured. It now takes on a mild
madness,when an old man called "Norclite" enters. Lear, "avec
un 6garementdoux et paisible," demands of this proprietorof the
cave-
doneaussidonn6toutAtesfilles
Aurais-tu ?
As in Shakespeare,thisspeechmarksthe beginningofL6ar's insanity.
But observe that Norclete replaces Shakespeare's strange Edgar;
there is no wild triplemadness of Lear, Edgar, and the Fool; and
that "6garement doux" is characteristicof L6ar's derangement
throughout. He declaresmysteriously that he has committeda great
crime,he says smilinglythat his daughterwas "jeune et belle."2
Then he fallsinto a state of insensibility. Norclete remarksthat a
younggirlofthat sorthas been dwellingwithhimin his cave. Thus
announced, Helmonde comes forthwith Edgard. But Lear, con-
1Is thisthe "Appareil" so heartilyrecommended by Voltaire? "Ducis faitgrande
consommationde foudreet d'6clairs."-Ste.-Beuve, C. de 1.,VI, 462.
2 Compare
"Her voice was eversoft,
Gentleand low, an excellentthingin woman."
(Act V, sceneiii.)
160
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 25

fusingher with the other daughters,repulsesher, wishes her laden


with chains and draggedinto judgment. He details his wrongsand
weeps as he has wept before. Shakespeare'sLear says that his heart
will burst beforehe weeps and Ducis, suddenlyremembering that,
makes his old man declare:
Jene pleurerai
plus.
Then Lear, who feelsthat he was not born"pour aimerla venge-
ance," observesthat he suffers
less near thisunrecognizeddaughter-
whohas a gentlecountenanceand seemsofHelmonde'sage. Assured
that theyare one and the same, he asks if it is possiblethat he sees
his victim; and the semi-recognitionfollowsin this style:
Lear: C'est dansla sombrenuitun 6clairqui mebrille.
Un tendreinstinct me ditque vousetesma fille;
Mais peut-etre qu'aussi,pourcalmerma douleur,
Votrenoblepiti6cherche a tromper
moncoeur.
Es-tumonsang?
Helmonde: Mon pere!
Lear: O moment pleinde charmes!
Helmonde:Helmondeestdansvos bras,voyezcoulerses larmes.
And with the appearance of that familiarrime,one may trustthat
domesticbliss is near. But Ducis needed anotherturnof the screw.
It continues:
Lear: (tirant
son pdeeetvoulants'enpercer):
H6 bien!puisquetu l'es,voilamonchatiment.
Helmonde:Que faites-vous,grandsdieux!
Lear: Jete venge.
Helmonde: Un moment!
Jevoustrompais, seigneur;vousn'etespointmonpore.
Lear: Oses-tuprendreun nomque la vertur6vere!
Va, ne m'abuseplus; va, fuisloinde mesyeux.
Afterwhich,he fallsinsensibleand is taken into the cavern.
The trickis turnedotherwiseand laterin the original,and indeed
verylittleof the precedingis Shakespeareansave in the mostgeneral
way. What follows,in the last two acts, is even less so and may be
brieflycondensed.
Edgard, like Shakespeare's doctor, hopes that slumber may
restoreL6ar's faculties. At daybreakthe old man is broughtto the
161
26 E. PRESTON DARGAN

mouth of the cave-on a "lit de roseaux"-and in a long fatherly


scene he passes fromignoranceof such wordsas " Lear " and "king"
to a full recognitionof Helmonde and Kent. He is himselfagain;
but the tide of battle drawingnear forcesthe friendsback into the
cavern. Kent has time to apostrophize the gods before the re-
entrance of Helmonde and the advent of Oswald, who leads the
opposing hosts. "Cette fille?" demands Oswald. "La mienne,"
answers Norclite. Oswald, knowingthat Lear is a fugitivein the
neighborhood,searches the cave in vain; but as Helmonde feebly
faints,he becomessuspiciousand will carryher off; whereuponLear
walks out and gives himselfup.
In the same setting,Cornouailleshears Oswald's reportand we
learn that Lear has again falleninto a "doux egarement." Regane
stimulatesher lord to vengeanceon Helmonde by remindinghim of
her supposed crimes. Helmonde wishes only to attend her father;
she admits that she is responsiblefor the presentrevolt; but she
would ratherdie than betray the names of her allies. Enter L6ar.
"Avec un 6garementpaisible et plein de tendresse" (whichis not
a new kindof egarement), he includesRegane and Cornouaillesin his
affection-

Versvous,meschersenfants,
c'estle cielqui meguide.

Albany,enteringwithtroops,states that the armyof Edgard is near


and (as in Shakespeare)quarrelswithCornouaillesoverthe hostages.
Oswald, who probably has his orders,takes Helmonde aside. The
menofCornouaillespresentlyreturnvictorious,withEdgard prisoner.
Cornouailles brutally declares that Oswald has killed Helmonde,
therebyagain restoringL6ar's reason with the shock and thereby
losing his own cause. For his men, at Edgard's appeal, desert his
inhumanstandardand hail L6ar king. This is donewithoutviolence,
of course. Helmonde,equally of course,is not reallykilled. She is
givento Edgard in marriage,Kent willwatch over them,the traitors
are punished,and L6ar will end his days in peace.
It may be grantedthat this drama is more ingeniousthan the
others: it is all the more false. The tremendousdivergencesfrom
the originalhardlyneed pointingout. Aside fromthe heart-interest
and the generalsentimentalism, thereis the loss both of wild horror
162
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 27
and of tragicdignity; the pathos sinksinto bathos,the pertinacious
optimismhas its unintentionalcomic relief. The plot is more con-
centrated,to be sure, it is simplified,
but it is also emasculated.
A moreimportantdifference than any willemergefromthe point
of view of character contrast. Shakespeare's Lear is marked by
the jealous affectionof the aged, by a patheticmadness,but also by
impetuosityand the pride of insulted fatherhood. The Lear of
Ducis is timid, gentle,and thoroughlybienseanteven in insanity.
He pines forhis crown,whereasthe othercared not a buttonforhis
crown. The mild humanitarianizedLear is really cowed by his
bad daughters. He curses R6gane once, but thereis no real scene,
no contestof prideand will. He complains,he weeps,whereShake-
speare's king swore that his heart would break first. Lrar d la
Ducis is more pitiable than powerful. He is allowed no torrentof
language to voice his "hysterica passio." His very desires for
vengeance and death are expressed in passionless Alexandrines.
There are more long "screeds" in this play than in any other by
Ducis and frequentlythe feeblenesscomes throughprosingabout
society, throughgeneralizingabout those social categories which
Diderot would have us believe dramatic.
However, Ducis' deletions are consistent,historicallyinterest-
ing, and occasionally justifiable in themselves. Without being
guilty of lose-Shakespeareit may be held that certain things are
best omitted from the play-the matter of Gloucester's eyes,the
matter of his false childish leap from the cliff. Neo-classicism
naturallyomittedthese,but it took a graverlibertyin omittingthe
ghastlinessof the triple madness and the grimhorroraround that
scene. The storm-effect is also deleted and the milder madness
of LUar seems on all these accounts less convincing. In itself,
perhaps it is not so badly, it is even feelinglydone, save for too
much self-pity. It is a good stroketo make L6ar take his one true
daughter for Regane or Volndrille. But certainlyhis shiftsfrom
sanity to madness are too frequent.
There are momentsof intensitythat slip back into the maudlin.
Ducis has no skillin transitions;he can touchonlythe one fountain.
Such a Lear may make us weep but cannot make us wonder. The
motifsof filialingratitudeand vengeancebecome hazy in the domi-
163
28 E. PRESTON DARGAN

nant r61leaccorded to the faithfuldaughter. Affectionis stronger


than hate and Ducis' sentimentalityblurs the stark lines of Shake-
speare's realism.
Treading on the heels of this success-which duly angered the
critics-its author produced Macbeth the followingyear (1774).
Here too he was reproachedwithhis choiceof subject and beggedto
write "une piece tendre."' Yet it would seem fairly"tender" to
endow Lady Macbeth with a beloved young son. Her heroicr61e,
thus qualified and dubbed with the inspiringname of Fr6d6gonde
was played by Madame Vestris.
The most remarkablethingin the play is Ducis' renderingof the
sleep-walking scene. This offersa good opportunity-which is
rare-for textual comparison. But to glance firstat the author's
generalintentionsand deviations.
The avertissement2alludes to the success of his other versions
and to the "terrible" nature of this subject, whichwould naturally
be moreapplauded at London than at Paris. Then he gives another
expression of his dramatic recipe, compounded of Aristotle and
Cr6billon:
Jeme suis appliqu6d'abordA fairedisparaitre l'impressiontoujours
r6voltante qui certainement
de l'horreur, etitfaittombermonouvrage;et
j'ai tAch6ensuited'amenerl'Amede mon spectateurjusqu'aux derniers
degr6sde la terreurtragique,en y melantavec art ce qui pouvaitla faire
supporter.
These precautionshave subduedthe critics,who allow himat least
the meritof the "difficult6vaincue"-that commonformulaof the
age, whichmeant at bottomthat beauty was a tourde force. Ducis
thenproceedsto complimentShakespeareand Siddons and to assign
Macbeth a soul "n&e pour la vertu."
The play itself is another compromise.3 For instance, the
scene shiftsfromthe forestto the palace of Inverness. The setting
is described several times, not only in the exceptionallydetailed
account of Lady Macbeth's somnambulism,but more d la Ducis in
the vague and adjectival introductionsto each act. The firstis
supposed to pass in "the most sinisterspot of an antique forest,"
adorned with rocks,caverns,and precipices,in short"un site 6pou-
1 Pellissier, p. 91. 2 II, 3-5. 3 II, 7-89.
164
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 29

vantable." This horribleplace is covered by a "menacing and


tenebrous" sky and decorated apparentlyby the firmof Radcliffe
and Lewis. The settingforAct II repeatsseveral of these epithets,
freshlyapplied to the palace and, says in conclusion: "Il doit tre
d'un caractereterrible." These firstgropingsafterthe art of stage-
directionsare infantile,but they are quite in line with the budding
Englishpseudo-romanticism.
In Act I Duncan and Glamis come to Birnam wood. There are
didactic debates concerningthat "ungrateful mortal" Macbeth.
Glamis, firstprince of the blood, absorbingthe r6le of Banquo, is
used also as confidantof Duncan. He recites a rimed historyof
Scotland, to the supposedlyignorantking. But firsthe tellsus that
two of Duncan's sons have been made away with beforethe begin-
ning of the action. The remainingheir,Malcome, is kept in hiding
and an old man is broughtin who is secretlyrearingthe princeand
makes prophecies concerning him. This vieillard, a replica of
Norclete,is periphrasedas
Un de ces mortels'qui dansl'obscurit6
Par de milestravauxdomptent l'adversit6.
The witchesare notbroughtin, except in the usual recit-and in
a variant about the added "terror" of whichDucis hesitates. But
seen or unseen, the weird sisters depress the spirits of Duncan,
especially Hecate's substitute,"Iphyctone, interpreteet ministre
des dieux."
In the palace, thereis firsta recitof Macbeth's victory,according
to Shakespeare. Malcome has quite a r61lefromthe beginning. A
familyparty of Macbeth, wife,and son is dissolved by the cares of
empire,but the lady remainsto tempt her husband by much talk
about the witches,by dwellingon their prophecy,"tu seras roi,"
and by accusations against Glamis. To her are attributed the
superstitiousconsultationsand this firstsuggestionof crimecomes
froman interviewwith Iphyctone. But Lady Macbeth's motiveis
O monfils!quelespoirpourl'orgueild'unemare.
Un jourtu serasroi.
This maternal hope is the palliation Ducis offersfor her crime.
1Since all men are "mortals."
165
30 E. PRESTON DARGAN

The storycontinuesto the effectthat Macbeth has had a dream,


like Cr6billon's Atree, anticipating the murder; and Duncan
enters with the confidenceof hospitality which he showed in
Shakespeare.
Act III passes between midnightand dawn. It opens with
Fridegonde's soliloquy (partly reminiscentof the original) on her
husband'scharacter. The presenceand supposeddesignsofBanquo-
Glamis are used to precipitate Macbeth's resolution. A second
prophecyof the head-witch,meant to have the same effect,merely
repeats. The finaltouch is given by a note which announcingthe
death oftwo otheraspirants,leaves onlyDuncan and Glamisbetween
Macbeth and the throne. Thereupon Fr6degondespeaks forcibly
and persuadeshimto the deed. There is some rathergood dialogue
throughhere,in the shortVoltairianstyle; thereis no broodingand
bewilderingsenseofdoomeitherbeforeor afterward. All is arranged
forDuncan's death-which was to be foistedon Glamis-when the
soldiers of a rebel surroundthe castle. While Fredegonde hopes
that Duncan will perish in the mellay, Macbeth runs to defend
him.
The murder, as before, is accomplished between acts. We
learnthatthoughMacbeth drovethe dagger,it is Fridegondeherself,
accordingto him,who is the most guilty. The noblest trait in the
real Macbeth is that he never reproacheshis wife. This man says:
"C'est toi, c'est toi, barbare, en empruntantma main ...."
and actually threatensto kill her next.
There is no banquet. The unityof time is practicallypreserved
and it is immediatelyafterthe murderthat Macbeth gives himself
away-which is rathersoon fora ghostto appear. The existenceof
Malcome is sprungon the harassedMacbeth. He is able to tide that
over,but remorsemakes him finallygive up the crownand kill him-
self. Fredegonde (except in a variant) lives afterward,a prey to
her own horror. For the shudder introducedhere by Ducis-and
the point of the sleep-walkingscene-is that she kills her own son,
through mistakinghim for Malcome. The bloody cradle of the
child is even introducedin the variant but scarcelyon the stage.
Here is a part of her somnambulismthat leads to the melodramatic
"parricide":
166
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIS 31

(avecjoie et un air de myst~re):


Fre"digonde
Ce grandcoupfutcach6dansla nuit.
estAnous. Macbeth,pourquoila rendre?
La couronne
(Avec le gested'une femmequi porteplusieurs de poignard
.coups
dans les tetnbres.)
Surle filsAsontour
.
S&var: Ciel! que viens-jed'entendre!
(en et
Fridegonde s'applaudissant, avec la joie de l'ambitionsatisfaite):
Oui,toutestconsomm6,
mesenfants
regneront.

For a page she muttersof her maternalambition,of the blood which


stains her hands, of her remorseand this freshcrime which fasci-
nates her-all with very full stage-dirbctions-andthen:

(Son fronts'&claircitpar degres,et passe insensiblement


de la plus pro-
fondedouleura la joie eta la plus viveesperance.)
Quelespoirdansmonseinestrentr6
?
(Tout bas, commeappelant Macbethpendantla nuit, et lui montrant
le
lit de Malcomequ'ellecroitvoir.)
Macbeth! Malcomeestla.
(Avecardeur.)
Viens.
(Croyantle voirhisiteretlevantles6paulesde pitii.)
Commeil s'intimidel
(Decidee & agir seule.)
Allons.
(Avecjoie.)
II dort.
(Avecla confiance
de la certitude,
etdans le plus profond
sommeil.)
Jeveille.....
(Elle regardeleflambeaud'un oeilfixe; elle le prendetse leve.)
meguide.
Et ce flambeau
(Elle marche vers le c6tf du thdatrepar lequel elle doit sortir.
tout-a-coupavec l'air du d&siret de l'impatience,
S'arredtant
croyantentendresonnerl'heure.)
Sa mortsonne.
(Avecla plus grandeattention,immobile,le bras droitetendu,et mar-
quantchaqueheureavecses doigts.)
Une . . . Deux.
(Croyantmarcherdroitau lit de Malcome.)
C'est l'instantde frapper.
(Elle tire son poignardet se retire,toujoursdormant,
sous l'une des
vofites.)
167
32 E. PRESTON DARGAN

This is whateverone pleases, but it is certainlystriking. And


on the whole,barringthe forcedparricidemotif,I considerMacbeth
the best of these plays, the most faithfulto the originaland the
versionin which Ducis' variationshave the most plausibility.

V
This is quite relative praise and thereforenot excessive. It
would be difficultto say anythingat all in favor of the last two
dramas, which are the least importantof the lot, judged even by
contiemporary criticism. The perversionsin Othelloare as great as
the perversionsin Hamlet; and if King John is not among Shake-
speare's best, Jean Sans-Terreou la mortd'Arthur(1791)1 is surely
Ducis' worst.
The subject of this play is more narrowlylimitedand the list
of personnagesmore curtailed than in any yet considered. It is
Arthur's story, nothing more.2 None of the French characters,
nothingabout a war,no Eleanor,no Englishearls. For mostpeople,
Falconbridge,the bold bastard, is the hero of King John: there is
no Falconbridge in Jean Sans-Terre. There are only three acts,
in which respect it is unique among the Shakespearean dramas of
Ducis. The scene,withan effectof much cramping,passes entirely
in the Tower of London. Ducis states3that he took the Hubert-
Arthurepisode fromShakespeareand implies,quite truthfully, that
the rest is a poor thing,but his own. Three hundredlines of the
originalare expanded into three acts. There is an ancient Briton
by thename ofKermadeuc,whotakes the stockpartofloyal retainer.
There is a Constancewho flitsarounddisguised. Thereis a cowardly
Hubert, who promisesto save the prince,who lets his eyes be put
out notwithstanding,and who laments and makes long speeches
afterward. As to the death of Arthur,Ducis preferred to stickto a
shady sort of history and make John kill him. He also makes John
kill Constance, both events occurringcomfortablyoff the stage.
Johnhimself,being as bad as ever, representsthe one saving virtue
in the play.
1II, 97-161.
2 Compare the popularity of the "Enfants d'Edouardl" subject, in Delavigne and
the Romantic painters.
3 Avertissement,II, 93-94.
168
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 33
Othelloou le More de Venise (1792) ends the attemptsof Ducis.1
Talma played the title-r6lewith great applause. The scene passes
entirelyin Venice, but in three different places. There are seven
personages,not includingShakespeare's blackamoor. "As to the
color of Othello," says Ducis, "I thought I might dispense with
givinghim a black visage. .... I thoughtthat the yellowcoppery
tintwould have the advantage ofnot revoltingthe eye of the public,
and especially that of the women."2 Iago too-styled Pezare-
requiresmanymenagements not to be "revolting,"requiresin particu-
lar to be "carefullyhidden" fromthe eyes of the spectators. For
the English,says Ducis, mightbe able to stand such a monsteras the
originalIago, but the Frenchcould scarcelyput up withhis presence,
stillless withthe developmentof his depthsof villany:
C'estce qui m'a engag6a nefaireconnattrele personnage
quile remplace
si faiblement dans ma piece,que touth la findu d6nouement. .... Jeme
suisbiengard6de le faireparattredumoment est
qu'il connu, du moment
que
j'ai r6v616au publicle secretaffreuxde son caractere.
Then the authoradds that in a "court recit" we are instructedas to
Pezare's death-penalty. Another reason for thus removing the
criminalfromthe publicgaze is that ifthisperfidywereknownduring
the actionthe horrorofthe audiencewould have surpassedits interest
in the love-story.
If P6zare is mild, H6delmone is milder. She is more like Zaire
than Desdemona. She has the former'shesitation when all is
ready forher wedding,she is involvedin a similar"mistake" over a
letter. She shows frightand weakness of a languishingorder and
little individuality. Hedelmonde or Helmonde, it is much the
same thing.
There are again two denouements.They were necessary,said
Ducis, since an author's principalaim is to please and to suit the
characterof his nation.3 Consequently,althoughhe thoughtit more
artisticand even more moral to end a tragedytragically,although
his original version allows that Othello shall stab Desdemona and
himself,there is once more an optimisticvariant in which Pezare's
1 II, 175-272.
2 Avertissement,II, 167-69.
3So he roundly states in the Avertissement,II, 171.
169
34 E. PRESTON DARGAN

villany is discovered in time. A crowd enters as the poniard is


raised, the loversembrace,etc. "Les directeursdes th6atresseront
les maitresde choisir."
The originalendingmade a "terrible"impression.' The audience
roseas one man and severalwomenfainted.2 The famous"oreiller,"
the infamous"mouchoir" are gentlyreplaced by the devices of a
poniardand a letterof doubleentente whichPezare foistson Loredan-
Cassio. P6zare is himselfin love withHedelmoneand is responsible
foran attemptedenlevement which he also attributesto Loridan.
Othellois not concernedwithany elopement. His marriagedoes
not occur until the fourthact; like the coronationin Hamlet,it is
obviouslyused to hold the stringstogether. The Cassio machinery
is kept,but it is badly handled. Fearingforher father'slife,Hedel-
mone asks succor and support fromLoridan, a "jeune inconnu."
They become friendswith startlingrapidity,quite startlingenough
to give Othellojust cause forsuspicion. Loridan begins by asking
to be admittedinto the Moor's service. He ends by actually mak-
ing love to Hedelmone,a thingwhichthe real Cassio neverthought
of doing. The old father-Ducis could not spare us him-tries to
promotethe unionof his daughterwithLoridan. Then Hedelmone,
to save the old fatherfrompunishmentby the state, stoops to trick-
ery and gives Loridan a bandeau (sc. "mouchoir") fromher brow
togetherwith a compromising note in which she is pledged to him.
This note is meantto operateon his father,but Iago gainspossession
of it and "all is discovered."
But the note is too feeble,forit is clearlya mere trick; Othello
is too feeble,forhe rushes,like Orosmane,fromgreat calm to great
anger; H6delmonetremblesmorethan she loves; and the wholesys-
tem of "preparations" is feeblestof all. For instance, a senator
naively introducesPWzare'sfirstrecitby saying: "C'est a vous de
conter." H6delmone's father prophesies lumberingly: "Tu seras
malheureuse," etc. There are the familiar banalities and peri-
phrases. Some one speaks of spies as
Ces mortels
dontl'6tatgagela vigilance.
1 II, 169.
2 It is true that H6delmone dies a bloody death on the stage. This was not strictly
forbiddento neo-classicism: it was only debatable land, and there are precedents in Voltaire
170
SHAKESPEARE AND DuCIS 35

Othello thus moralizes over H6delmone's body: "I would never


have thoughtthat such brazennesscould be found in such youth.
It is the effectof the climate."
Shakespeare's suggestionof a willow-songdelightedDucis, who
wrotea lengthyversionof it withthe refrain

Chantezle sauleet sa douceverdure.

The effectof thesepentametersis not happy.


Ducis had observed,in 1792, that "la trag6diecourt les rues,"
and faintechoes of the Revolution are heard on his stage. There
are such soundingcoupletsas these:

L'amour,fierde ses droits,commela libert6,


Rendl'homme h la nature,a son6galit&.

We have much informationabout these abstracts,especially about


"nature" (it is really time to findout what this Protean word has
meant in France), and we have somethingabout self-mademen-
Othello himself,like Romeo, being a "soldat parvenu."
But in spite of its date and these details, the play is obviously
as neo-classic,the audience as refinedas ever. "Never was any-
thingseen so gentle,so attenuated,so delicate and so polished,"says
M. Jusserandemphatically;' and Ducis' melodramaticpill remained
coated with respectabilityand vagueness. Impatiently did the
clear-sightedCorrespondancelitte'raire point out that "les petites
moeurs"barredappreciationofenergeticcrimesand strongcharacters.
Not yet was the pit floodedby the equally impossibleIncroyables,
so bitterlycomplainedof by La Harpe, de Bray, and others. The
theater was the last strongholdof the red heels against the red
bonnets.
VI
It is evident that Ducis was no lonely artist-peakovertopping
his generation; his lack of uniqueness will appear all the more
clearlyifwe glance at certainof his dramaticcongenersin the art of
adapting Shakespeare. Still in connection with the "patriotic
tragedy," for which his voice was stronglyuplifted,M.-J. Ch6nier
I Op. cit., p. 429.

171
36 E. PRESTON DARGAN

has lefttwo politicalplays on the Anglo-Romanmodel.1 The first-


writtenof these is Brutuset Cassius ou les derniersRomains (1786).
It is just such a subject as the Revolutionarygenerationdelighted
in; and the handlingis much closerto Voltairethan to Shakespeare.
In fact Chenier, concerningthe Englishman's Julius Caesar, has
several contemptuousremarksto make. He is displeased with the
low expressions,such as an "itching palm," and Shakespeare's
popular appeal quite offendshim. For the rest, the connection
between the two plays consists mainly in the fact that both are
based on the quarrel betweenBrutus and Cassius. Ch6nier'spiece
has but three acts, all of which pass in Brutus' tent at Philippi.
He is discovered musing on Caesar's ghost, which has already
appeared. He receivesthe news of Portia's death with more words
than become a Stoic, and Cassius findshim in a reverie. They dis-
cuss the ghost a little and then pass immediatelyto their dispute
which begins, as in Shakespeare, by the question of condoning
corruption. It is not dramatically handled. The great quarrel
betweengreat friendsis turnedinto what is scarcelymore than an
argumentwith recriminations,fading vaguely away as the other
Romans enter.
The restof this drama does not particularlyconcernus. Marie-
Joseph uses a Shakespearean stepping-stoneoccasionally but not
enoughto carryhimveryfar. Such are the presageofthe two eagles
and name as the firstsuggestionof the suicides. Some of the
C'ato's
minorcharactersare also repeated. Otherwiseabout all that remains
is the fact that Brutus and Cassius fight,lose, and are killed-
but rememberthat the action stays in Brutus' tent. The drama
containsa great deal of political discussion,whichprobablyhelped
it at the timeand now makes it onlya poor performance. Chenier's
theorieswererevolutionarynot only anent governmentbut in stage-
craft. Yet whenit came to thetouch,he proved,likecertainsocialist
statesmen,quite docile in practice.
Henri VIII (1791) is styled by Janin "un gascon de trag6die."2
It presents no Katherine, no Wolsey, no pageant-the elements
whichalone save the original. The cycle of Henry'swives is moved
1 (E uvres,10 vols., Paris, Guillaume, 1826: Vol. VI, 199-245; Vol. II, 3-74.
2 Janin, " La Naissance du drame en France-Influence de Shakespeare," in Critique
dramatique, Paris, 1878, III, pp. 15-52.
172
SHAKESPEARE AND DUCIS 37

up just one point. The charactersare thoroughlysoftened. Jane


Seymour,Anne Bullen are both made impossibly"noble" and even
moral. Cranmer'sopportunismand shiftinessare obliteratedand
he becomes simplya holy prelate. Henry himselfdoes not order
his progressiveharem in the traditionallarge manner. He is less
of a giant and more of a villain, frequentlydiscomposedand dis-
concerted. The speeches are throughoutforcedinto the serviceof
Revolutionary propaganda: such words as freedom, tyranny,
justice, igalit6are much bandied about. It is perhaps worthmen-
tioningthat afterdwellingin Henri VIII on the wrongsofhapless
queens, Ch6nier,the morningafterits representation, attended the
executionof Marie Antoinette.
There is a certain Cl6opdtreby Marmontel, which although
scantlyacted in 1750, comes down to us as finallyarrangedin 1784.1
Marmonteldid not acknowledgethisas an imitationof Shakespeare;
and indeedthe trailof Drydenseemsoverit all; but whetherversion
or perversion,there is naturallya Shakespeareanfonds to such a
subject. The play has fewerups and downs in the neo-classical
handling, since it begins only after the battle of Actium. The
unityof place is preserved-everythingpasses in CldopAtre'spalace
at Alexandria. The unity of time is slightlyrelaxed.
Cldopitre considerssacrificingherselfin order to obtain peace;
and when her rival-in a scene betweenthe two whichShakespeare
did not attempt-when Octavia pleads for peace, CldopAtregener-
ously wishesto cede her lover and her happiness. Antonywonders
at her nobilityand asks whereis her love. It is revealed,when she
suddenlychangesfront,as she does several timeswithunreal effect.
Afterbiddinghim fightto the last, aftersettingout to flatterand
placate Octave, she recurs at the last to the idea of sacrifice. It
is with this idea rather than fromdespair of a possible ultimate
happiness that she kills herself. Neither she nor Antony ever
show the instinctivejealousy which serves to add nature's touches
to the original. They are too noble forthat.
Antonyis trulynoble, forinstead of revilingCldopitre afterhis
defeat,he accuses only himself. In a singularscene withhis rejected

IMarmontel, (Euvres, 7 vols., Paris: Belin, 1819-20: Vol. V, IIo Partie, pp. 387-
428.
173
38 E. PRESTONDARGAN

wife (not accordingto Shakespeare) he admits his fault,but stiffens


with pride when she speaks of rescuing him fromthe dangerous
charm. He says that she is only a tool in the hands of the cunning
Octave-who is forced into the part of vindictivevillain. The
lovers are never allowed their few moments of exultant victory,
whichShakespeareused forcontrast.
No one supposes Marmontelto be a greator even a good drama-
tist,but he seems,in a certainelevationand harmonyof style,to be
at least equal to Ducis. The respectableneo-classiceffectis still
there,withoutmelodrama.
Of the same year,thereis a Coriolanby La Harpe,' which,it has
been suggested,may presentanotherfacet of the gallicized Shake-
speare. But La Harpe emphaticallydisclaims that origin, Janin
supports his disclaimer,and after comparingthe two plays, I am
disposed to thinkthat theirsimilaritiesare due to the fact that they
use Plutarchas a commonsource.2 Besides therewere no less than
eight French Coriolans representedbetween 1607 and 1784. La
Harpe violates the unities,but ratherin the name of Houdar de la
Motte than of Shakespeare.
Some of the smallerfryalso deserve a passing word. Editions
of these are not readilyattainable and I can only speak of them at
second hand. Some rathercuriousfactsare reported.3
Sebastien Mercier,anotherdaringtheorist,has three quite con-
ventionalversions. In Les Tombeauxde Verone,he uses prose, but
it is a noble periphrasticprose,fullof r6citsand monologues. Juli-
ette has a confidante,wordsreplaceaction,and the lovers'woes have
a happy ending-for the heroineawakens at the momentof a general
killingwhich is therebyturned into a general embracing. In Le
Vieillardet ses troisfilles,Mercierpresentsa Lear who is not a king
at all but a private citizen. Diderot supersedesShakespeare. The
author boasts that it is a "tableau moral," a lesson to ungrateful
children. Finally,his Timond'Athinesis said to be nearerthe spirit
of the original. Writtenin prisonduringthe Reign of Terror,such
1 (Euvres,16 vols.,Paris, Verdiire,1820: vol. II, 451-526.
2 La Harpe, II, 467 (Preface); Janin, op. cit., p. 19.
3Especiallyby Jusserand,pp. 405 ff.,439-40. He thussummarizes themoreobscure
adaptors(whomJanincalls "maitre-mosalstes "): "They all surprisedthepublicthenby
theirrashness,and surpriseus now by theirtimidity."
174
SHAKESPEARE AND DucIs 39

a subject may well have interestedMercier. But apparently he


handles it withoutfire.
Hilas et Silvie, by Rochon de Chabannes, is describedby Jusse-
rand as a musical-pastoraladapted from The Tempest. Caliban
remains; the rest shows the influenceof Dryden. The comedies
generallywere clearly less appreciated than the tragediesand his-
tories. When adapted at all, they were very roughly handled.
The MerryWivesofWindsor,morepopularthanmost,was remodeled,
forinstance,by Collot d'Herbois underthe title of the Amantloup-
garou. This was merelya vulgar farce,as was also, accordingto
La Harpe, De Rozoi's Rhapsodie de RichardIII.
There remaintwo versionsof Othelloand two of Romeoand Juli-
ette-afterwhich this painfulsubject of travestiesmay well be dis-
missed. Le More de Venise by Douin (an army-captain)evinces a
militaryfrankness. The author cannot stand Shakespeare's low
comedy and has remedied "that essential fault." Like Boileau,
he admits only a pagan mythologyand wants no such terms as
"heaven," "angel," "devil." Like Ducis, he held that Othello's
skin and Iago's soul both required whitening. The whole action
passes at Cyprus. Douin's main compromiseis in allowingDesde-
mona to be stabbed on the stage. Rodrigo perishes otherwise:
Cassio "charge Rodriguequi tombe dans la coulisse-mais de faqon
a& tre vu."
Butini, another obscure character, has an Othellowhitened,
softened,and simplified,accordingto the canon. The Moor does
not killhiswife-" il la frappe." Butini says modestlyofhis collabo-
ration: "Si cettepiece peut ne pas d6plaireaux veritableshommesde
got . . . . la gloireen sera dfieprincipalementa Shakespeare."
Mentionhas already been made of Chastellux' Romeoet Juliette.
It was performed privatelyat La Chevrettein 1770 and was quite an
event. Accordingto the author he "left out all that is comic" and
accordingto Jusserandall that is tragic, "for the Chevalier's play
ends as merrilyas possible." The renderingby Moline and Cubieres
(1806) showsthe veeringof the wind. Cubiereshad represented,in
1776, a take-offon the "sombre" play called La manie des drames
sombres,in which he ridicules Shakespeare, Young, and English
melancholyin general. But this RomBoet Juliette,tragddielyrique,
175
40 E. PRESTONDARGAN

not only has a mournfulcatastrophe,but reveals the contortionsof


the poisoned Romeo, furnishesa background of cypresses, and
changesall merrymeetingsto lugubriousmarches.
I shall not dwell upon Hamletand Macbethreduced to the level
of ballets,pantomimes,and "spectacles a cirque." Passing over the
excessesof the Revolutionand the stagnationof the Empire,it may
be well to repeat here that Shakespeare really reached France only
in the days of the Romanticists. As early as 1827 Soulie achieved
a not unmeritedsuccess with his more reverentversionof Romeoet
Juliette-by far the most popular subject of all in France: when
Vigny followed two years later with his admirable Othello,then
Hugo's propaganda and English acting had won theircause and an
approximate Shakespeare was firstmade possible on the French
stage. But it would take us too farafieldto show just how the new
ordersucceeded: I returnto our Ducis, aftersubjoininghere a list
of the more or less Shakespearean plays analyzed or mentioned
above. The date given is usually that of the firstrepresentation.
Zaire.
1732. Voltaire,
La Mortde Cesar(private);1743(public).
1733. Voltaire,
1769. Ducis,Hamlet.
Chabannes, Hilas etSilvie.
1770. Chastellux,
RomeoetJuliette (private).
1772. Ducis,RomeoetJuliette.
1773. Douin,Le Morede Venise.
1780. Collotd'Herbois,Amantloup-garou.
1782. De Rozoi,RichardIII.
Mercier,Les Tombeaux de VWrone.
1783. Ducis,Le Roi Llar.
1784. Marmontel, Cldopdtre (reprise).
Ducis,Macbeth (reprise"avec changements,"
1790).
La Harpe,Coriolan.
1785. Butini,Othello.
1786. M.-J.Ch6nier, BrutusetCassius.
1791. Ducis,JeanSans-Terre.
M.-J.Chinier,HenriVIII.
1792. Ducis,Othello.
Mercier,Le Vieillardetsestroisfilles.
1794. Mercier,Timond'Athenes.
1806. Molineand Cubibres, RomBo etJuliette.
1816. Lemercier,Le Frereetla sceurjumeaux.
176
SHAKESPEARE AND Ducis 41
1827. RomeoetJuliette.
SouliM,
1828. De Vigny,Shylock (neveracted).
1829. De Vigny,Othello.
1833. Delavigne,Les Enfantsd'Edouard.
VII
Tu congois,
cherLUnox,qu'enmestristesr6cits
Des tableauxsi cruelsdoiventtreadoucis.
These wordsof Edgard to his brother'are a fittingexpressionof
Ducis' dramaticideal. It has been sufficiently shown,I hope, how
Shakespeare was travestied and travestied according to pretty
definiteprinciples and demands. It seems also to be probable
that the contrast between the originaland the shadow was more
pronouncedat thistimethan it would have been eitherat the timeof
Corneille or of the youngerVoltaire. And I submit as concluding
thesis the opinion that Ducis representsthe full artisticdecadence
of the neo-classictragedy.
Cr6billon,as Brunetierehas argued,mightseem morepositively
to be entitledto that bad eminence; but thereis the chronological
space between the two and the fact that this space was occupied
by the tragedy,still languishingbut still living,of Voltaire. Now
Ducis adds to the decadent horrorsof Crebillonthe sentimentality
of his time, the naiveteof his mind, and especially the Voltairian
technique in a state of weak dilution.
To resumethe more salient featuresof that techniquein opposi-
tion to Shakespeare's: we have constantlyrhetoricalAlexandrines
instead of blank verse or prose; conventionalcenteringof action,
though with some relaxationof the unities; conventionalizedchar-
acters instead of profoundlypsychologicaland individual protago-
nists; no subplot; no comic relief; a language that is smooth,not
appropriate,tasteless epithets,commonplacegeneralizations; pro-
saic verseand monotonousrimes; a fewcharactersinsteadof hetero-
geneous humanity,no realistic crowds,no turmoilof action; the
latter replaced by profuseapostrophes,recits,monologues,and con-
fidants; above all, happy endings,with repentanceand forgiveness;
in short, the appeal of a bastard genre,legitimizedto suit the
sensibilitiesof a lady-likeaudience.
1 In Le Roi Lear, I, 344.
177
42 E. PRESTON DARGAN

Ducis' environmentof course is his main defenseand the main


reasonforwritingabout himat all. His interestis purelyhistorical.
If it was possible forhis tragediesto outlivetheirauthor,'if it was
possible for even a publisher'spuffto declare him "class$ comme
quatriemetragique entre les auteurs du premierordre,"2there can
be no doubt that he was essentiallythe man forhis time. Personal
meritshe had none,or ratherhismeritswereall personaland not in the
least literary. Sainte-Beuve, with his usual generositytoward the
lesser lights,holds that the harmonyand simplicityof the "bon-
homme's" characterreflecton his worka certainoriginality, blurred
for us by the preponderatingbad taste of his contemporaries.
Ducis' cachetis indeed fromtime to time discernible; but on the
whole the personal characteristicsthat have appeared in his plays
are not sufficiently momentousto make us waver in the convic-
tion of his dramatic ineptitude. Whatever may have been his
honorablequalities,hisplaysare decadent,hisaudiencewas effete, his
Shakespearewas made in the image of a half-god-and Shakespeare
"le lui a bien rendu."
E. PRESTON DARGAN
THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

I They were played even under the Restoration (Jusserand, p. 438.)


2"Avis du librarie" to edition of CEuvres.
3 C. de L., VI, 458.

178

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