Life of Robert Browning [31]
the seats dusty, the "scenery" commonplace
and sometimes noticeably inappropriate, the costumes and accessories
almost sordid. But in the face of all this, a triumph was secured.
For a brief while Macready believed that the star of regeneration had arisen.
Unfortunately 'twas, in the words of a contemporary dramatic poet,
"a rising sorrow splendidly forlorn." The financial condition
of Covent Garden Theatre was so ruinous that not even the most successful play
could have restored its doomed fortunes.
After the fifth night one of the leading actors, having received
a better offer elsewhere, suddenly withdrew.
This was the last straw. A collapse forthwith occurred.
In the scramble for shares in the few remaining funds
every one gained something, except the author, who was to have received
12 Pounds for each performance for the first twenty-five nights,
and 10 Pounds each for ten nights further. This disaster
was a deep disappointment to Browning, and a by no means transitory one,
for three or four years later he wrote (Advt. of "Bells and Pomegranates"):
"Two or three years ago I wrote a play, about which the chief matter
I much care to recollect at present is, that a pitful of good-natured people
applauded it. Ever since, I have been desirous of doing something
in the same way that should better reward their attention."
But, except in so far as its abrupt declension from the stage hurt its author
in the eyes of the critics, and possibly in those of theatrical managers,
"Strafford" was certainly no failure. It has the elements
of a great acting play. Everything, even the language
(and here was a stumbling-block with most of the critics and criticasters),
was subordinated to dramatic exigencies: though the subordination
was in conformity with a novel shaping method. "Strafford" was not, however,
allowed to remain unknown to those who had been unable to visit
Covent Garden Theatre.* Browning's name had quite sufficient literary repute
to justify a publisher in risking the issue of a drama by him,
one, at any rate, that had the advantage of association with Macready's name.
The Longmans issued it, and the author had the pleasure of knowing
that his third poetic work was not produced at the expense of a relative,
but at that of the publishers. It had but an indifferent reception, however.
--
* "It is time to deny a statement that has been repeated ad nauseam
in every notice that professes to give an account of Mr. Browning's career.
Whatever is said or not said, it is always that his plays have `failed'
on the stage. In point of fact, the three plays which he has brought out
have all succeeded, and have owed it to fortuitous circumstances
that their tenure on the boards has been comparatively short."
-- E. W. Gosse, in article in `The Century Magazine'.
--
Most people who saw the performance of "Strafford" given in 1886,
under the auspices of the Browning Society, were surprised
as well as impressed: for few, apparently, had realised from perusal
the power of the play as made manifest when acted. The secret of this
is that the drama, when privily read, seems hard if not heavy in its diction,
and to be so inornate, though by no means correspondingly simple,
as to render any comparison between it and the dramatic work of Shakespeare
out of the question. But when acted, the artistry of the play is revealed.
Its intense naturalness is due in great part to the stern concision
of the lines, where no word is wasted, where every sentence is fraught
with the utmost it can convey. The outlines which disturbed us
by their vagueness become more clear: in a word, we all see in enactment
what only a few of us can discern in perusal. The play has its faults,
but scarcely those of language, where the diction is noble and rhythmic,
because it is, so to speak, the genuine rind of the fruit it envelops.
But there are dramatic faults -- primarily, in the extreme economy
of the author in the presentment of his `dramatis personae',
who are embodied abstractions
and sometimes noticeably inappropriate, the costumes and accessories
almost sordid. But in the face of all this, a triumph was secured.
For a brief while Macready believed that the star of regeneration had arisen.
Unfortunately 'twas, in the words of a contemporary dramatic poet,
"a rising sorrow splendidly forlorn." The financial condition
of Covent Garden Theatre was so ruinous that not even the most successful play
could have restored its doomed fortunes.
After the fifth night one of the leading actors, having received
a better offer elsewhere, suddenly withdrew.
This was the last straw. A collapse forthwith occurred.
In the scramble for shares in the few remaining funds
every one gained something, except the author, who was to have received
12 Pounds for each performance for the first twenty-five nights,
and 10 Pounds each for ten nights further. This disaster
was a deep disappointment to Browning, and a by no means transitory one,
for three or four years later he wrote (Advt. of "Bells and Pomegranates"):
"Two or three years ago I wrote a play, about which the chief matter
I much care to recollect at present is, that a pitful of good-natured people
applauded it. Ever since, I have been desirous of doing something
in the same way that should better reward their attention."
But, except in so far as its abrupt declension from the stage hurt its author
in the eyes of the critics, and possibly in those of theatrical managers,
"Strafford" was certainly no failure. It has the elements
of a great acting play. Everything, even the language
(and here was a stumbling-block with most of the critics and criticasters),
was subordinated to dramatic exigencies: though the subordination
was in conformity with a novel shaping method. "Strafford" was not, however,
allowed to remain unknown to those who had been unable to visit
Covent Garden Theatre.* Browning's name had quite sufficient literary repute
to justify a publisher in risking the issue of a drama by him,
one, at any rate, that had the advantage of association with Macready's name.
The Longmans issued it, and the author had the pleasure of knowing
that his third poetic work was not produced at the expense of a relative,
but at that of the publishers. It had but an indifferent reception, however.
--
* "It is time to deny a statement that has been repeated ad nauseam
in every notice that professes to give an account of Mr. Browning's career.
Whatever is said or not said, it is always that his plays have `failed'
on the stage. In point of fact, the three plays which he has brought out
have all succeeded, and have owed it to fortuitous circumstances
that their tenure on the boards has been comparatively short."
-- E. W. Gosse, in article in `The Century Magazine'.
--
Most people who saw the performance of "Strafford" given in 1886,
under the auspices of the Browning Society, were surprised
as well as impressed: for few, apparently, had realised from perusal
the power of the play as made manifest when acted. The secret of this
is that the drama, when privily read, seems hard if not heavy in its diction,
and to be so inornate, though by no means correspondingly simple,
as to render any comparison between it and the dramatic work of Shakespeare
out of the question. But when acted, the artistry of the play is revealed.
Its intense naturalness is due in great part to the stern concision
of the lines, where no word is wasted, where every sentence is fraught
with the utmost it can convey. The outlines which disturbed us
by their vagueness become more clear: in a word, we all see in enactment
what only a few of us can discern in perusal. The play has its faults,
but scarcely those of language, where the diction is noble and rhythmic,
because it is, so to speak, the genuine rind of the fruit it envelops.
But there are dramatic faults -- primarily, in the extreme economy
of the author in the presentment of his `dramatis personae',
who are embodied abstractions