THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS …
Transcript of THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS …
THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS
IN ENGLISH THEATRE OF THE SEVENTEENTH
AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES
by
DUFF SERRA, B.A., M.F.A.
A DISSERTATION
IN
FINE ARTS
Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in
Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for
the Degree of
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
Approved
May, 1991
gol T3
3.
1991, Duff Serra
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank Dr. Clifford Aehby and Dr. Richard McGowan
for their suggestions of specific source material. I would also like to
thank Dr. George Sorensen for his guidance and encouragement.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS i i
CHAPTER
I. INTRODUCTION 1
II. THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS 8
III. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS IN MUSIC AND ART 19
IV. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS
IN THEATER 29
BIBLIOGRAPHY 71
APPENDIX 78
111
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
The Doctrine of the Affections^ was a set of concepts used during
the 17th and 18th centuries that defined and explained human emotion and
its relationship to numerous other areas of knowledge, both popular and
scholarly. The Doctrine grew haphazardly and sporadically from the late
Middle Ages into the 17th century, when it was articulated most clearly
and completely. By the second half of the 18th century, aspects of the
Doctrine were being called into question, particularly on the scholarly
level. By the beginning of the 19th century, the Doctrine faded quickly
from both the popular culture and scholarly thought and was forgotten.
The meanings of the words "passion" and "affection" shifted, and the
word "emotion" was used in their place (but without the implied
interrelationships).
The Doctrine of the Affections determined all the formal aspects
of the arts of the 17th and 18th centuries that related to the emotions
and to the ethics and morality involved in the display and use of the
emotions. As the Doctrine was also a central concern of theology,
philosophy, and medicine and had implications in the natural sciences,
astronomy, astrology, and a number of other areas, works in any of the
arts, the meanings or representations of which dealt with any of these
fields of knowledge, had a relationship, directly or indirectly, with
the Doctrine.
^"The Doctrine of the Affections" is the term used in this work to mean the network of concepts from the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries that concerns human emotion and all other information and concepts taken from a great many other disciplines and fields of study that bore relation to human emotion as perceived by the thinkers of this time period. Some of these other fields of knowledge included theology, morality, philosophy, physiology, medicine, astronomy, and astrology. There is no clear or terse definition possible for the Doctrine of the Affections. Its concepts go so deeply into so many disciplines of learning that no all-inclusive definition can be formulated.
The term "Doctrine of the Affections" comes primarily from music scholarship. There, it is used usually to include the meaning of the passions, in a very general sense, and to indicate more specifically the general concepts behind the use of compositional devices to represent the passions in music and in the performance of music. The word "doctrine" was used throughout the 17th and 18th centuries to mean a more or less loose grouping of concepts. There is very little evidence that the term "Doctrine of the Affections" was much used during this period. The term is used in this study for its all-inclusive nature.
Since those arts that were available to the uneducated and
relatively uneducated in European society (such as plays in public
theaters, visual art in churches, music concerts in the time of Handel,
etc.) did contain in them sophisticated representations of the passions,
it is clear that all levels of society were exposed to the Doctrine of
the Affections; but since what was articulated concerning the Doctrine
was a product of scholars and semi-scholars, it is difficult to judge
the true extent of the popular understanding of the Doctrine itself and
the popular understanding of the representation of the passions in the
arts. (By the middle of the 18th century, there appear in English a
number of discussions on the relationship between the passions and
acting written by actors who were not scholars. As far as the English
society is concerned, it would seem that the Doctrine of the Affections
became a more standard element in the popular culture than it may have
been in the preceding century.)
As a general rule, as one moves through a society farther away
from the circles of scholarly activities, the more simplified and
nonspecific the ideas and philosophies generated by those scholarly
activities become in both the society in general and in the minds of
individuals. Before the times of the mass media, it was primarily those
same scholarly circles which preserved their own ideas and philosophies.
What exists today of the Doctrine of the Affections in written form was
a product of those scholarly circles, and what exists today in written
form is the Doctrine in its most concentrated and sophisticated state.
It would be impossible to determine the exact state of the popular
understanding of the Doctrine of the Affections. The popular beliefs of
any segment of a society will change from generation to generation and
will be influenced by ideas and beliefs that filter in from other areas.
In the case of the Doctrine of the Affections, as the literate segment
of the general population grew, the general understanding of the
passions also grew.
It is clear, however, that in 17th and 18th century England, the
general public attended the theater and understood the Doctrine well
enough so that it appreciated the representations of the passions in
both the performances of plays and in the actual words of plays. It is
also clear that those sections of the public for which the treatises on
the passions and the treatises on their representations were written had
a relatively sophisticated understanding of the Doctrine.
The Doctrine of the Affections was an integral part of the
cosmology of the time. It did not exist as a theory by itself but was
developed with and inseparably connected to all other mainstream
philosophical, religious, and scientific beliefs. Thus, some of the
conclusions concerning the workings of the world that permeated the
belief-systems of the time formed the basic premises of the Doctrine.
Of importance here are the viewpoints taken by the general
consensus of the 17th and 18th centuries on two philosophical issues
which had been under discussion at least since the years of Plato and
Aristotle. The first viewpoint concerns the nature of the relationship
between commonality and diversity. The second concerns the assertion or
denial of an objective order of existence that is necessarily prior to
any subjective order of knowing. Both issues are closely related to
each other, and this relation is clearly manifested in the Doctrine of
the Affections.
In the case of the first issue and in the position taken by the
Doctrine, the connection between the common experience of emotion and
the variations in the physical manifestation of the emotion lay in the
understanding of the soul (from which the passions arise) and the
sensations of the body (through which the passions are felt). The
existence of the same passions in the souls of all humans accounted for
the commonality of emotion. The subtle differences between individuals'
physical bodies and any internal changes within one individual's body
accounted for all variations perceived in human emotion.
In the case of the second, the objective order of existence was
considered to be the soul and all of its aspects. The subjective order
of knowing lay in information gathered through sensations of the body.
(The Doctrine of the Affections also included an objective order of
knowledge. As the soul was believed to have the capacity for self-
reflection, any knowledge obtained from this activity would be objective
in nature. Thus, this knowledge of the passions was considered
objective and indisputable.)
Ethical issues were also an aspect of the Doctrine. One central
issue concerned the ability of the individual to control his own
emotions and the duty—civic, religious, moral, or otherwise—to
exercise that control. Paralleling this issue of control was that of
the purposeful use of the emotions for the public good. The 16th, 17th,
and 18th centuries were very familiar with the traditions of rhetoric
and the many contemporary and ancient authors who wrote on the use of
emotion in public speaking through voice, gesture, and word choices. In
addition, Aristotle's views of the importance of catharsis—the public ventilation of harmful emotions through passive participation in the performance of a theatrical tragedy—were well known and accepted as truth.
The Doctrine of the Affections and medical theory overlapped on
issues that concerned the nature and causes of certain groups of
maladies. The passions were believed to cause many illnesses through
their physical manifestations in body tissue and fluid. Medical
treatments were often prescribed based upon the offending passion.
Because the passions were thought to have an objective existence, each
passion could be spoken of as definite and unchanging, and thus, would
cause specific symptoms in the body. (These symptoms, however, would be
modified in every individual based upon his or her physical dynamics.
It was the physician's duty to understand all the passions and all the
subtleties of the dynamics of his patients' bodies.)
Many other disciplines, seemingly far removed from the study of
human emotion, influenced the formation of the core of concepts that
composed the Doctrine of the Affections. Astronomy and astrology, for
example, connected the passions with the stars. Specific celestial
bodies were believed to be related to specific passions. The movement
of these celestial bodies influenced the movement of the passions in
mankind. Other concepts linked music with these celestial bodies and
their movements. Music, in turn, was associated with the passions.
Specific notes, scales, and modes were believed to have properties that
had relationships to specific passions. The ties between the movement
of music, heavenly spheres, and the passions, though never clearly
delineated, were generally discussed throughout this period.
The belief that the passions existed in the soul independent of
the body, and that when moved, caused physical changes to occur, was the
ideological basis for the categorization of the passions and affections.
Scholars, philosophers, and men of medicine categorized the nature of
each passion and each set of physical changes initiated by the movement
of a passion. This systematized classification made possible the
representation of the passions in the arts. People, real or fictional,
were viewed as belonging permanently or temporarily to these emotional
and physical types. In the portrayal of people, all of the arts made
use of these categories in stylized representations.
The purpose of the representation of the passions in the arts was
to explore and express the nature of human emotion and to move the
emotions of the viewers or listeners through socially and morally
accepted methods. The representations themselves needed to be clear and
relatively standardized. The clarity of representation made for the
clean and efficient communication of emotion. The relative standard
ization of representation reflected the belief in the commonality of the
passions.
During the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, it was believed that,
through the perception of passions in others, one's own passions would
be moved. The purposeful moving of an audience's passions through the
speaker's own was one of the primary devices of rhetoric, a discipline
well known during this time. In its use of representations of the
passions, the arts borrowed this device from rhetoric and adapted it to
every medium. The perception of the outward manifestations of a passion
was considered to be sufficient to move that same passion in the viewer.
These outward manifestations included the obvious physicalizations of
each passion through posture, movement, and voice. In the visual arts,
color and texture were used to represent specific passions and/or to
emphasize the passions represented through posture and movement. In
music, tempo, key, melodic, harmonic, and intervallic structures, and
performance liberties were used to represent the passions. In theater,
the passions were represented in both the plays themselves (through
literary devices and verbal descriptions) and in their performances
(through the gestures, postures, movements, and vocalizations of the
actors).
Modern research and discussion on the passions and the affections
and their representation in the arts has been so minimal and sketchy
that contemporary scholarship barely recognizes the existence of the
Doctrine of the Affections. The Doctrine, however, was the sum total of
what was generally accepted as true concerning human emotion during the
16th, 17th, and 18th centuries throughout Europe. Inclusive in this
understanding of human emotion was the belief that correct represen
tation of the passions in the arts would correctly move any audience.
To ignore or neglect the concepts of the passions and their represen
tations is to misunderstand all of the arts of this period that had any
relation to emotion.
The function of the research of this dissertation is to introduce
into modern scholarship the relationship between the Doctrine of the
Affections and the theater of three centuries ago. Because most of the
material that will be presented here has never before been discussed.
the function of introduction will be maintained throughout this paper,
and no in-depth probing will be attempted.
Because the foundations of the Doctrine and the existence of the
representations of the passions in theater have not been carefully and
methodically documented in any discussion of the arts of this period,
this dissertation will include numerous and sometimes lengthy excerpts
from primary sources. These quotations have been chosen for their
representative explanations and discussions for their terseness and
specificity.
The primary sources used in this study are almost exclusively
English or period English translations. Although the Doctrine of the
Affections and the representation of the passions in the arts were
international in both acceptance and practice, and although scholars,
thinkers, and artists from all western European countries produced many
treatises on the passions and their representations, the proof of any
international style or artistic and ideological communication is not
within the scope of this paper.
The second chapter of this dissertation will attempt to define the
passions and affections in as much detail as is practical for the
purpose of a discussion of their representation in plays and
performances. It is not the aim here to present in detail the subtle
differences between one thinker's Doctrine and another's or to document
in detail all the intricacies of any one person's philosophy. This
process would not serve to further an understanding of the subject of
this dissertation. Rather, what will be presented by the way of
definition will be a compilation of the general concepts held by most of
those from this period who have written on the Doctrine.
The third chapter will explore through documentation the
representation of the passions in art and music. The function of this
exploration is to demonstrate some patterns and points of view from
these two disciplines that will give a fuller understanding of the
process of representation itself. Some of these patterns and approaches
will have direct relationships to those used in theater, and some will
not. None of the representations in music and art, however, will be
examined in great detail as that is outside the scope of this study.
The fourth chapter will discuss the representation of the passions
in both the plays and the theatrical performances of the 17th and 18th
centuries. Conclusions will be drawn as to the effect these
representations had on the performances of the period.
Before beginning any in-depth discussions of the passions and
affections and their representations, one caveat needs to be mentioned.
Although there is much written material available from this period
concerning the Doctrine itself and the pervasiveness of its general
concepts in the arts and philosophy, the interpretation of those
concepts and their place in the complex world view of the time (of which
the arts are, of course, a product) is not always clear. All of the
written works, even those by such methodical thinkers as Descartes,
assume a number of basic premises and definitions which are never stated
or explained. This aspect of the primary sources used for this study
makes a certain amount of researched guesswork necessary at times. In
its totality, the Doctrine of the Affections is a relatively alien set
of concepts to the late 20th century mind, and, as those writers of the
16th, 17th, and 18th centuries wrote for the minds of their own time,
their precise meanings are not always apparent.
CHAPTER II
THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS
As stated in the preceding chapter, the concepts that make up any
definition of the Doctrine of the Affections, and thus the words
"passion" and "affection," are so numerous and their relationships so
entangled that no concise definition of either "passion" or "affection"
is possible. As a general place from which to begin, however, the words
can be defined as referring to the metaphysical aspect of human emotion
that belongs to the soul. Both words were most often used interchange
ably (and will be used so in this study), and both words were sometimes
used to refer to the physical manifestations of emotion and the
reflections of those manifestations in the personality and the anatomy.
Both words "passion" and "affection" come directly from the Latin,
"affection" from affectus and affectio (both variations of adfectus) and
"passion" from passio. Both words were used by the ancient Romans and
by Medieval and Renaissance scholars. In the Institutio Oratoria of
first century A.D. Roman author Quintilian, a work well-known in the
17th and 18th centuries, the author briefly discussed the meaning of
adfectus.
Emotions however, as we learn from ancient authorities, fall right into two classes; the one is called pathos by the Greeks and is rightly and correctly expressed in Latin by adfectus (emotion): the other is called ethos, a word for which in my opinion Latin has no equivalent; it is however rendered by mores (morals)...^
Modern Latin dictionaries, such as Cassell's New Latin Dictionary
or The Oxford Latin Dictionary, are of little help with the Renaissance
or 17th century meanings of these words. The Oxford Latin Dictionary.
for example, says of passio. "An affection of the mind, passion,
emotion." Renaissance definitions do not give that much more
information. Thomas Elyot in his Dictionary, published in London in
1538, defined affectus as meaning the same as affectio; "affection or
naturall motion, as gladnesse, desyre, and suche lyke."^ Elyot's
definition gives some additional infoirmation. Elyot calls an affection
^Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, trans. H. E. Butler (1921; reprint ed., Cambridge; Harvard University Press, 1977), Vol. 2, p. 421. [Bk. VI. ii. 8.]
^Thomas Elyot, Dictionary (1538; reprint, Menston, England: The Scholar Press Limited), n. pag.
a "naturall motion." (The idea that an emotion was a natural movement
of the soul was a basic Renaissance and Baroque concept that figured
centrally in the Doctrine.)
Nicolas Coeffeteau, a French scholar, priest, court preacher to
King Henry IV, coadjutor bishop of Metz, and bishop of Marseilles,
published a lengthy treatise on the passions in Paris in 1620. One year
later, a translation of his work was published in London. In his book,
A Table of Humane Passions. Coeffeteau wrote the following concerning
the definition of the passions.
Seeing as there can be no better order obserued, to expresse the nature of things, then to beginne by definitions, which haue vsually giuen vs a full light of their essence, wee must enter into this treaty of passions, by definition which Philosophers giue. That which is called passion, say they, is no other thing, but a motion of the sensitiue appetite, caused by the apprehension or imagination of good or euill, the which is followed with a change or alteration in the body, contrary to the Lawes of Nature.^
There are several important concepts and facts in this quote that
should be noted. First, Coeffeteau declares that the stated definition
of the passions is not his own but is an already accepted, scholarly
one. (The origin of the concepts of the passions and affections are
from the adaptations by late Medieval scholars of Greek and Roman ideas.
By the third decade of the 17th century, the system of concepts was
fairly universally accepted.) Second, Coeffeteau mentions that the
passions are a motion, and more specifically, that they are a motion of
the sensitive appetite. (An appetite was a principle of attraction or
repulsion occurring in nature. The term implies motion. The sensitive
appetite was the aspect of both the human and animal souls from which
desire and emotion arose.)
Third, the author states that the passions are moved by the
perception or imagination of something. (Perception involved the
interaction of the soul and the phenomenal world through the sensing
organs and mechanisms of the body. It likewise implied a motion, as
perception was usually viewed as a mechanical process. Imagination
was believed to be an aspect of the self-reflection of the rational
soul.) Fourth, Coeffeteau states that the motion of the passions
"^Nicolas Coeffeteau, A Table of Humane Passions (London: 1621; Microfilm, Early English Books, 1475-1640, reel #1168) pp. 1-2.
^For more information on perception, see Descartes's Optics and The Passions of the Soul.
creates disturbances in the body that are contrary to its correct and
natural workings. (The idea that the body and soul would function
properly and smoothly were it not for the interruptions of the passions
was an underlying premise common in one form or another to all of the
authors on the passions.)
In 1597 and 1598, while in a succession of prisons, jailed as a
political and religious prisoner, Thomas Wright, an English Jesuit
priest, wrote The Passions of the Minde in Generall. The book was first
published in 1601. After enlarging and reworking it, Wright published a
new edition in 1604. The book was successful enough that three
subsequent editions were published, all based on the 1604 version, the
last printed in 1630. In the second chapter of The Passions. Wright
comes closest to defining the passions.
Three sorts of actions proceed from mens soules, some are internall and immateriall, as the acts of our wits and wils; others be meere externall and materiall, as the acts of our sense, seeing, hearing, mouing, &c. others stand betwixt these two extremes, and border vpon them both; the which wee may best discouer in children, because they lacke the vse of reason and are guided by an internall imagination, following nothing else but that pleaseth their senses, euen after the same maner as bruit beasts doe: for, as we see beasts hate, loue, feare and hope, so doe children. Those actions then which are common with vs, and beasts, we call Passions, and Affections, or perturbations of the mind... They are called Passions... because when these affections are stirring in our minds, they alter the humours of our bodies, causing some passion or alteration in them. They are called perturbations, for that (as afterward shall be declared) they trouble wonderfully the soule, corrupting the iudgement & seducing the will, inducing (for the most part) to vice, and commonly withdrawing from vertue, and therfore some cal them maladies, or sores of the soule. They bee also named affections, because the soule by them, either affecteth some good, or for the affection of some good, detesteth some ill. These passions then be certaine internall acts or operations of the soule, bordering vpon reason and sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing therewithall some alteration in the body.°
There are several observations that should be made from the
reading of this passage. First, Wright uses the words "passion" and
"affection" synonymously, both words referring to the same phenomenon.
^Thomas Wright, The Passions of the Minde in Generall. introduction by Thomas O. Sloan (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1971), pp. 7-8.
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For the most part, this was true for all writers of this period.^
Second, the author states that the passions belong to that part of the
soul that mankind has in common with animals (the sensitive appetite,
or, as others called it, the sensitive soul). Wright's belief that
animals feel emotions and that they are the same emotions mankind feels
because they originate from the same aspect of the soul (an idea which
was not original with Wright) implies a distinction between the passions
and reason, as reason belongs only to mankind.
Third, Wright observes that the passions upset the peace of mind
of any individual (mind, here, meaning both the sensitive and the
rational aspects of the soul) and also causes changes in the body.
Fourth, he observes that the passions can move in the direction of
either good or evil.
Another important treatise on the passions from the first half of
the 17th century was RenS Descartes's The Passions of the Soul of 1649.
This work systematically discusses the differences between the body and
the soul and the differences between the manifestations of the passions
in each. In the second and third parts of the work, Descartes methodi
cally discusses individual passions and describes their natures, how
they are alike and how they differ.
In Article 2 of the first part of the treatise, Descartes presents
his position on the importance of the understanding of the nature of the
mind and body. Next I note that we are not aware of any subject which
acts more directly upon our soul than the body to which it is joined. Consequently we should recognize that what is a passion in the soul is usually an action in the body. Hence there is no better way of coming to know about our passions than by examining the difference between the soul and the body, in order to learn to which of the two we should attribute each of the functions present in us.^
To understand the 16th and 17th centuries' conception of the soul
and any arguments arising as to the nature of the soul, it is best to
^Occasionally one finds conflicting uses of the words "passion" and "affection." Sometimes one or both words were used to refer to the physical manifestations of emotion. Sometimes one or both words were used to mean the movement of the soul only or to indicate the entire process. Sometimes the words have entirely negative connotations, and sometimes they have entirely positive connotations. They are usually, however, synonymous.
^Rene Descartes, The Passions of the Soul. The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, trans. John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, and Dugald Murdoch (Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 1985), p. 328.
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turn to Thomas Aquinas's Summa Theoloaiae (Part 1, Question 75 and
following). For the purposes of this dissertation, it is unnecessary to
delve into the complexities of Medieval and Renaissance concepts of the
soul. Suffice it to say that the core of beliefs was most often
conceived according to Thomas Aquinas's schemata.
The soul, wrote Aquinas, has three aspects: the first, the
vegetative, is common to all living things and is the only aspect of the
soul that belongs to plants; the second, the sensitive, is common to all
animals and man and possesses the attributes of apprehension
(perception) and motion (the sensitive appetites, of which the passions
are a part); and the third, the rational, belongs only to man and
contains memory, will, and intellect (reason, judgment, etc.).
It is from this hierarchy that the formulators of the Doctrine of
the Affections drew a number of basic conclusions. First, human emotion
is no different than animal emotion. Second, since human emotion and
reason originate from two very different parts of the soul, they are not
related to each other. Third, since the rational processes of the mind
originate in a higher order of the soul, they are a higher form of
activity. This places reason at odds with the passions.
There is some disagreement, argument, and a certain amount of
ec[uivocation and haziness evident among all the writers on the passions
concerning the relationship between imagination and perception and
between imagination and perception and the passions and concerning how
all of these change the body and the soul. Again, to discuss these
areas is to be far more detailed than necessary. It is important to
note, however, that it was believed that either the self-reflection of
the soul or the perception of something by either the body or the soul
was responsible for the movement of the passions.
The manner in which the passions affected the body was primarily
the concern for the physician. As the physical changes in the body were
an important aspect of any general discussion on the passions, and as
the issue of control over the passions had moral and religious
implications, however, most writers on the passions went into detail on
this subject. Unfortunately, there seems to have been a consensus among
the scholars of this time on only some basic principles. Most of the
details of the relationship between the passions and the body are
different for each writer.
One of the principles most commonly held was that the movement of
the passions caused the movement of the spirits in the body. The
spirits were invisibly small bodies that traversed the length and
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breadth of the human body through the nerves and veins. The movement of
the spirits was extremely rapid, and they tended to pool in certain
areas of the body (the head, the heart, the liver, the spleen, etc.),
depending upon the particular passion. It was believed that one
physically felt an emotion because of the movement of the spirits and
that one physically felt an emotion in specific areas of the body
because of the concentration of spirits in those areas. It was also
believed that even though this process was natural, it was often
injurious to both the body and the soul. Many diseases were thought to
be the result of the injurious concentration of spirits in particularly
sensitive places.
Also entering into this process were the humors. The humors were
fluids that also circulated through the body. There were usually four
recognized humors: blood, phlegm (or pituita), choler, and melancholy.
(The last two humors, choler and melancholy, were also passions and
diseases.) These fluids, which flowed through the veins and nerves, had
specific qualities. The balance of these qualities shifted when the
spirits moved.
The following definition of the humors comes from Batman Vppon
Bartolome. a lengthy work by scholar Stephen Batman that expanded and
reworked the theories of 14th century monk Bartolomeus. Batman's work
was published in London in 1582.
A humor is a substance actuallye moyst, by ioyning of elementall qualities, and is apt to nourish and to feede the members, and to comfort the working thereof kindly, or casually to let the workings thereof. For humor is the first principall materiall of bodies that have feeling, and chiefe helpe in theyr working, and that because of nourishing and feeding. Constantinus saith. That the humours be called the Children of the Elementes. For euerye of the humours commeth of the qualytie of the Elements. And ther be foure humours, Bloud, Fleame, Cholar, and Melancholy... These foure humors in quantitie and qualytie, obseruing euennesse, with due proportion, make perfect and keepe in due state of health, all bodyea hauing bloud: lyke as contrariwise, by their unegualnesse or insertion they ingender and cause sicknesse.
Robert Burton's very famous Anatomy of Melancholy of 1621 explains
the specific qualities of each humor.
Blood, is a hote, sweete, temperate, red humor, prepared in the Miseriacke veins, and made of the most temperate parts of the Chilus in the liuer, whose office is
^Stephen Batman, Batman Vppon Bartolome (London, 1582, Photocopy, Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International, [1958?]), n. pag. Liber Quartus, Chapter 6.
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to norrish the whole Body, to giue it strength and colour, being dispersed by the veines, through every part of it. And from it Spirits are first begotten, in the Heart, which afterwards by the Arteries, are communicated to the other parts.
Pituita. or Fleame, is a cold and moist humor, begotten of the colder part of the Chilus. (or white juyce comming of the meate digested in the Stomacke) in the Liver, his office is to nourish, and moisten the Members of the Body, which as the tongue, are mooved, that they be not over-drye.
Choler, is hote and dry, bitter, begotten of the hotter parts of the Chilus. and gathered to the Gall: it helpes the naturall heate, and senses, and serues to the expelling of excrements.
Melancholy, cold and dry, thicke, blacke, sowre, begotten of the more faeculent part of nourishment, and purged from the Spleene, is a bridle to the other two hote Humors, Blood, and Choler. preseruing them in the Blood, and nourishing the Bones: These foure Humors haue some Analogy with the foure Elements, and the foure Ages of Man.'
There was some disagreement among the scholars of this time
concerning where the spirits and humors originated and where they pooled
to cause specific effects. Burton states that the spirits (which he
defines as "vapors") originate in the brain, heart, and liver.
Descartes states that they are produced in a gland in the brain.
Of more importance to the subject at hand, however, are several
common ideas and principles that can be extracted from these writers.
First, when in balance, the spirits and humors sustain health. They
have no negative properties or aspects to them as do the passions.
Second, the movement of the passions is one of the major causes of the
imbalance of the spirits and humors. Third, the humors have qualities
which help determine what today would be called personality. For
example, a greater amount of the humor blood created a sanguine
personality. A greater amount of the humor melancholy created a
melancholy personality, and so on. It was the physician's duty to
determine the pattern or "complexion" of a person's humors. This
complexion was believed to be visible in the quality of the skin,
particularly the skin of the face. Published in the books of this time
were numerous descriptions of personality types determined by the
humors. Two of Ben Jonson's plays. Every Man in His Humor and Every Man
out of His Humor, contain characters whose personalities are determined
by their humors. (Remnants of the spirits and humors are still found in
'^Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy (London, 1621, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1971), p. 21.
14
modern speech. The adjective "phlegmatic" is still used to describe a
personality type, and expressions, such as, "in an ill humor" or "a
heavy heart," still describe the sensation of an emotion in the body.)
The belief in the Doctrine of the Affections and its workings
created a decided tendency in the 17th and 18th centuries to view people
and their emotions and personalities through set types. It was believed
that these types were observable by all and that the intricacies of the
workings and complexities of these types were observable by the trained.
Underlying this tendency are two premises. The first is that
human emotions, human behaviors, and human physicalities belong to pre
existing natural types or categories. The passions were considered to
be immutable and unchanging (as these were qualities of the soul), and
the humors were viewed as natural occurring bodily fluids that possessed
definite attributes. The second premise is that because the passions
and humors have specific, unchanging qualities, the categories defined
by these qualities are readily observable, as they are manifested in the
outward appearance and behavior of the person.
Discussions on the nature of each passion were usual in the
general treatises on the passions. The discussions were often rather
detailed. For example, Descartes wrote the following on pity.
Pity is a kind of sadness mingled with love or with good will towards those whom we see suffering some evil which we think they do not deserve. Thus it is opposed to envy in view of its object, and opposed to derision because the object is considered in a different way.
Those who think themselves very weak and prone to the adversities of fortune seem to be more inclined to this passion than others, because they think of the evil afflicting others as capable of befalling themselves. Thus they are moved to pity more by the love they bear towards themselves than by the love they have for others.
Of sadness, Descartes wrote: Sadness is an unpleasant listlessness which affects
the soul when it suffers discomfort from an evil or deficiency which impressions in the brain represent to it as its own. There is also an intellectual sadness which, though not the passion, rarely fails to be accompanied by it...
In sadness the pulse is weak and slow, and we feel as if our heart had tight bonds around it, and were frozen by icicles which transmit their cold to the rest of the body. But sometimes we still have a good appetite and feel our stomach continuing to do its duty, provided there is no hatred mixed with the sadness...
In sadness, by contrast, the openings in the heart are severely restricted by the small nerve which surrounds them, and the blood in the veins is not agitated at all, so that very little of it goes to the heart. At the same time, the passages through which the alimentary juices flow from the
15
stomach and intestines to the liver remain open, so that the appetite does not diminish, except when hatred, which is often joined to sadness, closes these passages.'^
Specific physical manifestations of emotion, such as tears,
weeping, laughter, sighs, etc., and qualities or states, such as
hardness and mildness or delight and glory, were discussed in con
junction with the passions. Occasionally, they are even referred to as
passions. The physical manifestations of the passions were often called
"signs."
Sometimes this bitter passion is signified by a certain uncomely distortion of the face, somwhat different from that of Laughter, and accompanied with Tears; somtimes only by Sighs: by sighs, when the Grief is extreme; by Tears, when it is but moderate. For Laughter never proceeds from great and profound Joy, so neither doe Tears flow from profound sorrow. ^
The "signs'; of the passions were universally accepted as the
outward manifestations of any specific passion. The concepts of cause
and effect and the laws of mechanics were applied to human emotion.
Although occasionally authors disagreed on the details concerning the
conditions under which any specific sign might be manifested, there was
no disagreement concerning the process.
It was the signs and other recognized outward manifestations that
became the core material for the representations of the passions in the
arts. The whole system of concepts concerning the working of the
passions in body and soul was believed to accurately describe a natural
and immutable process. It was logically concluded that to use the
correct physicalizations of the passions in the representation of those
passions in any of the arts was to represent the passions correctly.
Furthermore, it was assumed that any correct representation of a passion
would move that same passion in the audience.
Because there was a tendency to view people and their behaviors as
types with predictable outward signs of their feelings and personali
ties, the literature of the 17th and 18th centuries is full of
descriptions of real or fictitious characters whose personalities are
determined by the types to which they belong.
The writings of Sir Thomas Overbury (most of what was published
under his name was written by others after his death) are paradigms of
'^Descartes, pp. 393, 361, 363, 365.
'^Walter Charleton, The Natural History of the Passion. Microfilm, Early English Books 1641-1700, reel #295 (London, 1674, microfilm, Ann Arbor , MI: University Microfilms International), p. 152.
16
the use of type characters based on the affections. Both A Wife, first published in 1614, and Characters of 1616 were extremely popular and had many editions to which were added increasing numbers of characterizations.
(An amorist] is a certaine blasted or planet-stroken, and is the Dog that leades blinde Cupid; when hee is at the best, his fashion exceeds the worth of his weight. He is neuer without verses, and muske confects; and sighs to the hazard of his buttons; his eyes are all white, either to weare the liuery of his Mistris complexion, or to keep Cupid from hitting the blacke. Hee fights with passion, and looseth much blood from his weapon...'-*
Francis Bacon wrote a series of essays covering human behaviors
and which he titled Essaves or Covnsels, Civill and Morall. published in
1625. The following is from "Of Envy":
There is none of the Affections, which has beene noted to fascinate or bewitch but Love, and Envy. They both have vehement wishes; They frame themselves readily into Imaginations, and Suggestions; And they come easily into the Eye; especially upon the presence of Objects...
A man that is Busy, and Inquisitive, is commonly Envious; For to know much of other Mens Matters, cannot be, because all that Adoe may concerne his owne Estate: Therefore it needs be, that he taketh a kinde of plaiepleasure, in looking upon the Fortunes of others...
Men of Noble birth, are noted, to be envious towards New Men..•
Deformed Persons, and Eunuches, and Old Men, and Bastards, are Envious... ''
Poetry, perhaps even more than prose, reflected the tendency to
describe people by the outward manifestations of their emotions.
Perhaps one of the best examples of this is found in Eloisa to Abelard.
first published in 1717. In this poem, the author, Alexander Pope, not
only describes the character of Eloisa through her passions but also
underscores her passions with descriptions of the surroundings. The
nature of her surroundings take on the nature of her passions:
In these deep solitudes and awful cells. Where heav'nly-pensive, contemplation dwells. And ever-musing melancholy reigns... Soon as the letters trembling I unclose. That well-known name awakes all my woes. Oh name for ever sadl for ever dearl Still breath'd in sighs, still ushered with a tear.
'•'Thomas Overbury, The "Conceited Newes" of Sir Thomas Overbury and His Friends, ed. James E. Savage (Gainesville, FL: Scholars' Facsimiles & Reprints, 1968), p. 77.
'" Francis Bacon, The Essaves or Counsels Civill and Morall. ed. Michael Kiernan (Cambridge; Harvard University Press, 1985), p. 27-28.
17
I tremble too where-e'er my own I find. Some dire misfortune follows close behind.'^
There is a sense in all of the writings on the Doctrine of the
Affections and in all of these characterizations in poetry and prose
that the individual was considered a victim of his passions and was
constantly at odds with them. This attitude separates, to some extent,
the person from his emotions and the person from the responsibility for
his emotions, for the existence and the movement of the passions is
beyond the control of man.
The moral obligation, which is made very clear by the writers of
this time, lies in the opposition to the passions by reason. The
discipline of reason for the purpose of controlling the passions does
not imply any modern methods for coping with the emotions. Neither the
elimination of unwanted emotion nor the sublimation or gradual
deemphasis of any particular emotion would fall under the category of
control because the passions were believed to be immutable and their
movement the result of natural processes. Rather, rational control of
the passions meant the forcible slowing or stopping of the movement of
the passions once that movement had begun. It was believed that man was
able (through his reason) to distinguish between healthy and unhealthy
passions and between those passions that moved toward evil and those
that moved toward the good and that he was morally obligated to stop
those passions that were unhealthy and led to evil behavior.
In the concluding paragraph from The Passions of the Soul,
Descartes speaks of obligation, pleasure, and the passions.
For the rest, the soul can have pleasures of its own. But the pleasures common to it and the body depend entirely on the passions, so that persons whom the passions can move most deeply are capable of enjoying the sweetest pleasures of this life. It is true that they may also experience the most bitterness when they do not know how to put these passions to good use and when fortune works against them. But the chief use of wisdom lies in its teaching us to be masters of our passions and to control them with such skill that the evils which they cause are quite bearable, and even become a source of joy.
'^Alexander Pope, The Poetry and Prose of Alexander Pope, ed. Aubrey Williams (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1969), p. 104, 105.
'"Descartes, p. 404.
18
CHAPTER III
THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS
IN MUSIC AND ART
It is generally confessed of all men, that all such motions in pictures, as doe most neerely resemble the life, are exceeding pleasant; and contrariwise those which doe farthest diffent from the same, are voide of al gratious beauty; committing the like discord in Nature, which untuned strings doe in an instrument: Neither doe these motions thus liuely imitating nature in pictures, breed only an eie-pleasing cotentment, but do also performe the self same effects which the natural doe. For as we which laugheth, mourneth, or is otherwise affected, doth naturally moove the beholders to the self same passion of mirth or sorrow; (whence the Poet saith.
If thou in me would'st true compassion breede. And from mine heauv eies wring flouds of teares; Then act thine inward griefes by word and deede Vnto mine eies, as well as to mine eares:) So a
picture artificially expressing the true naturall motions, will (surely) procure laughter when it laugheth, pensiveness when it is grieued &c.'
These words open the Second Booke of Paolo Giovanni Lomazzo's
treatise on painting written in 1584 and translated and printed in
English under the title A Tracte Containing the Artes of Curious
Paintinge in 1598. Continuing, the author writes that through their
arts, artists
discover all the severall passions & gestures which mans body is able to perform: which heere we tearme by the name of motions, for the more significant expressing of the inward affections of the minde, by an outward and bodily Demonstration; that so by this meanes, mens inward motions and affections, may be as well, (or rather better) signified.'°
It was Lomazzo's stated opinion that the artists who are held in
the highest esteem are those who have studied, practiced the painting
of, and successfully executed the representation of the passions,
emphasizing that the greatness of a painting lies in its ability to move
the passions of the viewers. The author cites Michelangelo, Titian, and
Leonardo da Vinci, and others as examples of such artists. Singling out
Leonardo, Lomazzo praises his study of the expression of the passions
through physical movement and suggests that all artists observe human
'^Paolo Giovanni Lomazzo, A Tracte Containing the Artes of Curious Paintinge (London, 1598, reprint. New York; Da Capo Press, 1969), Second Book, p. 1.
'^ibid.. Second Book, p. 4.
19
activity as thoroughly as Leonardo. (Lomazzo includes in this observa
tion of human activity "the actions of stage-plaiers.")
After short discussions on the nature of the passions and the
changes in the body that they cause, Lomazzo discusses the representa
tion of the passions in painting. First, he states, in a painting,
there must always be a "principal passion" represented that follows
logically from the cause of that passion and to which all other passions
represented in that painting are secondary. This hierarchy of principal
and secondary passions, he states, not only represents a natural
occurrence (as a passion always arises from an immediately preceding
cause and always is accompanied by secondary passions), but it also
serves to focus the viewer's perception that his own passions will be
that much more intensely moved.
Second, in order to create both subtle and not so subtle reactions
in the viewers, the artist must master both the understanding of and the
techniques involved in representing the complexities of all the
secondary passions. Third, each passion must be thoroughly understood,
and the manifestations of each passion in the body must be known in
accurate detail. To this end, the author presents a large section of
his treatise that describes (sometimes in detail) close to 100 passions
and how they can be represented, suggesting possible physicalities
appropriate to each passion and citing figures out of Biblical and
ancient history whose physio-emotional representations in the art of
past years would have been well-known to the contemporary reader. The
following is what he wrote of the passion of tardiness.
TARDITIE makes a man slow and heavie in all his actions: whose proper gesture is to stande still, mooving the armes, and the rest of his body slowly, not much mooving, or spreading the legges, which when they are once fixed in a place, be not easily altered; as in men that forget themselues, porters, and clownes; The like appeareth sometimes in Philosophers, and great Sages, when they are in some profound studie and contemplation; whom you may make stroking their beardes with a slowe hand: And after this manner shal you shew old folkes, but especially grosse and
"i 19
country people.
All elements in a painting, states Lomazzo, must reflect the
passions of that painting. Hair and clothing must be in motion in
accord with the passion of that figure. The artist must carefully
choose the cloth in which his figures are to be clothed so that its
movement will also be appropriate. Furthermore, the movement of all
'^ibid., Second Book, p. 27.
20
objects in the painting such as animals or the leaves of a tree, must
correspond with the passion of the main figure(s). Even the colors that
the artist chooses, though they must be accurate to nature, must be tempered by the passions of the work.
Music was no less concerned with the representation of the
affections than was art. Relatively contemporary with Lomazzo was
Thomas Morley. In 1597, he published his extensive treatise on music
composition, A Plaine and Easie Introdvction to Practicall Mvsicke.
Though this treatise is primarily concerned with the basics of music
theory, toward the end, Morley discusses the passions.
It followeth to shew you how to dispose your musick according to the nature of the words which you are therein to expresse, as whatsoeuer matter it be which you haue in hand, such a kind of musicke must you frame to it. You must therefore if you haue a graue matter, applie a graue kinde of musicke to it; if a merrie subiect you must make your musicke also merrie... You must then when you would expresse any word signifying hardness, cruelties, bitterness, and other such like, make the harmonie like vnto it, that is, somwhat harsh and hard but yet so y it offend not. Likewise, when any of your words shall expresse complaint, dolor, repentance, sighs, tears, and such like, let your harmonie be sad and doleful...^^
Morley continues by listing specific intervals (with the bass) and
specific note durations that are used with different passions and by
observing that accidentals (flats and sharps outside the key) are
unnatural motions and best represent grief, weeping, signs, and sorrows.
Before discussing further the representations of the passions in
art and music, it is necessary to remember that throughout the 16th,
17th, and 18th centuries, the arts were primarily oral traditions.
Compositional techniques were taught orally. The meanings of the tech
niques and representations were taught orally in both social and formal
situations. Whatever criticism existed was primarily oral (until well
into the 18th century).
Exceptions to this oral tradition were the treatises on the arts.
Understandably, they were likely to offer less information concerning
technique and meaning than could be expected from the full body of the
oral tradition. In The Artes of Curious Paintinge. when Lomazzo offers
the example of malice, "In traitour ludas. when he betraied him with a
^°Thomas Morley, A Plaine and Easie Introdvction to Practicall Mvsicke. (London, 1597, reprint. New York; Da Capo Press, 1969), p. 177.
21
11
kisse,"- he is making reference not only to the Biblical story but
also to all visual representations of that story. In a similar fashion,
Morley recommends that the reader study madrigals, motets, and anthems
to understand fully "the nature of all kindes of musicke."-- From both
of these authors' references to works, it would seem that the avail
ability of examples made full written explanations unnecessary.
Around the turn of the 17th century, the style of music composi
tion underwent a rather substantial change. Although Morley lived on
the eve of this shift, his music, nevertheless, falls more toward the
older style (Prima Prattica) than it does toward the new style (Seconda
Prattica). Although one can see a continuity in the conception of the
representations of the passions, the compositional manifestations of
that representation changed. In a similar (though much less dramatic)
way, the visual representations of the passions in art shifted slightly
in style from the Renaissance to the Baroque. Yet, in both art forms,
the idea of representation persisted unchanged.
The understanding in contemporary scholarship of the relation
between the arts and the passions is at best very spotty. In music,
some of the final forms that the representations took are documented.
The evolution of those forms is not. Although it is clear to the eye
that there is much stylistic similarity in the depiction of the human
figure and in the use of representations in the visual arts, there has
been extremely little scholarship in this area.
The majority of music treatises dealing with the passions that
have been explored by contemporary scholars are of German and Italian
origin. There are a number of treatises, however, that are French and
English. Some of these studies deal with compositional representations;
some deal with representations through performance styles; and some deal
with both. Marc Antoine Charpentier's treatise. Regies de composition
from around 1690, for example, discusses that keys are used as symbols
of specific passions. The key of C major is gay and warlike; D major is
joyous and very warlike; the key of D minor is grave and pious; Eb major
IS cruel and harsh.-
•'Lomazzo, Second Book, p. 26.
tn -Morley, p. 178.
- Don L. Smithers, The Music and History of the Barogue Trumpet Before 1721 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1973), p. 237.
22
Two English treatises that mention the relation of the passions to
music are John Alsted's Templum MuBJenm. translated from the Latin and
published in London in 1664, and John Playford's An Introduction to the
Skill of Music first published in 1654 with many subsequent editions
over a period of 75 years (the last in 1730, well over a generation
after the death of the author). Both treatises discuss the eight church
modes and identify specific passions associated with each. Playford
also states that the shake (trill) is used to underscore any passion
being represented. Another Englishman, Thomas Mace, discusses the
performance of music on the lute and the passions in Musick's Monument
of 1676.
Some of the most complete, extant discussions of music and the
passions in English were written by Roger North (1651-1734). An Essay
of Musicall Avre and The Musicall Gramarian contain the bulk of North's
discussions.
My thoughts are first in generall that Musick is a true pantomine or resemblance of Humanity in all its states, actions, passions and affections. And in every musicall attempt reasonably designed. Humane Nature is the subject, and so penetrant that thoughts, such as mankind occasionally have, and even speech itself, share in the resemblance; so that an hearer shall put himself into the like condition, as if the state represented were his owne. It hath bin observed that the termes upon which musicall time depends are referred to men's active capacitya. So the melody should be referred to their thoughts and affections. And an artist is to consider the manner of expression men would use on certein occasions, and let his melody, as near as may be, resemble that.-"*
In his two works. North writes generally about considerations of
which the composer and the performer need to be aware when dealing with
the passions. He discusses the choices of instrumentation and key
selection, the appropriateness of ornamentation and a melody's
correspondence with its words (as in a song or aria), the affections
implied by tempo markings, and many other general subjects.
Representation of the passions in music was not limited to general
stylistic considerations. Occasionally, very specific compositional
figures were used, and some are mentioned and alluded to in treatises on
composition. Perhaps one of the best known figures to be used inter
nationally is the chromatically descending ground bass used to represent
-' Roger North, Roger North on Music, ed. John Wilson (London: Novello and Company, Ltd., 1959), pp. 110-111.
23
lamentation.- This figure was employed in works at least from the
last quarter of the 17th century through the first half of the 18th
century across Europe and in England.
As the nature of music covers both performance as well as com
position, the representation of the passions was reflected in the
performance practice as well as the compositional practice. The above
discussion of the ideas of Roger North begins to suggest some general
and some specific performance possibilities for representing the
passions. One of the most famous treatises to discuss the relation
between the passions and performance is Johann Quantz's Essay of a
Method for Playing the Transverse Flute of 1752. This lengthy work
shows very clearly that the passions were not only represented in
written music but were also a major concern in performance.
Hence in playing you must regulate yourself in accordance with the prevailing sentiment, so that you do not play a very melancholy Adagio too quickly or a cantabile Adagio too slowly...
If the setting of the Adagio is very melancholy, as is usually indicated by the words Adagio di molto or Lento assai, it must be embellished more with slurred notes than with extensive leaps or shakes, since the latter incite gaiety in us more than they move us to melancholy. Yet shakes must not be wholly avoiced, lest the listener be lulled to sleep; you must vary the air in such a way that you provide melancholy a little more at one time, and subdue it again at another.-"
Many of the nuances of the music of this period were provided by
the performer. At times, some of these nuances were indicated by the
composer through ornamentation and tempo markings. At times, performers
had and took a measure of latitude in the literal performance of notes.
Much of the latitude that they took was based upon their interpretation
of what passions were present in the music.
In his article "Rhetoric and Music" in The New Grove Dictionary of
Music and Musicians. George Buelow discusses a number of points
concerning the use of figures to represent the affections. First,
Buelow sets out the connection between music and rhetoric. (The
connection will be made between theater and rhetoric in the next
chapter.) The movement of the listeners' emotions through the words and
-^One of the best examples of this figure in English Baroque music is found in Henry Purcell's opera Dido and Aeneas in the aria commonly called "Dido's Lament" or "When I am laid in earth."
-^Johann Joachim Quantz, On Plavino the Flute, trans. Edward Reilley (New York: The Free Press, 1966), pp. 164, 165.
24
emotions of the speaker was one of the main concerns of rhetoric. The
author has found many treatises from the 16th and 17th centuries (parti
cularly German) which specifically relate the movement of the emotions
in rhetoric through figures of speech with the flow of figures in music.
Second, the author states that this use of figures for the
passions was the obligation of composers. One of the functions of music
was to move its audience and one of the chief manners for accomplishing
this movement was through the use of devices believed to bear direct
relation to specific passions. Last, and perhaps most importantly, the
author states unequivocally that there never existed any uniform code of
figures and their uses. Figures that appear in the works of different
composers working at different times in different countries imply an
international style and communication and not specific predetermined
compositional devices.
As distinct from music, the visual arts present a different set of
demands for representing the passions. Because representational visual
art deals with the visual aspects of human physicality, the represen
tation of the passions is perhaps more obvious in art to the relatively
untrained person that it is in music.
In section 113 of the second part of The Passions of the Soul,
Descartes discusses the outward response of the body to the passions.
There is no passion which some particular expression of the eyes does not reveal. For some passions this is quite obvious; even the most stupid servants can tell from their master's eye whether he is angry with them. But although it is easy to perceive such expressions of the eyes and to know what they signify, it is not easy to describe them. For each consists of many changes in the movement and shape of the eye, and these are so special and slight that we cannot perceive each of them separately, though we can easily observe the result of their conjunction. Almost the same can be said of the facial expressions which also accompany passions. For although more extensive than those of the eyes, they are still hard to discern. They differ so little that some people make almost the same face when they weep as others do when they laugh. Of course, some facial expressions are quite noticeable, such as wrinkles in the forehead in anger and certain movements of the nose and lips in indignation and derision; but these seem not so much natural as voluntary. And in general the soul is able to change facial expressions, as well as expressions of the eyes, by vividly feigning a passion which is contrary to one it wishes to conceal. Thus we may use such expressions to hide our passions as well as to reveal them.
27. Descartes, pp. 367-368.
25
As Descartes wrote in the above (juote, the physicalization of
emotion is sometimes difficult to read, accounting perhaps in part for
the stylization of body postures in the visual arts of this period. To
facilitate communication, artists had to represent the passions in ways
that would be easily recognizable to the viewer. The most efficient way
for such clear communication to occur would be through the use of
stylized types. An equally important reason for the use of stylization
in the depiction of figures is that the concept of psychological and
physiological types was a logical conclusion of the Doctrine of the
Affections. The use of these physical types based upon the passions was
a logical choice for artists.
As with music, many of the treatises on art and the passions were
continental, particularly French and Italian. These treatises, however,
circulated all across Europe and into England. Charles Le Brun's
Methode pour apprendre a dessiner les passions, a series of studies of
human figures moved by particular passions with accompanying commentary,
was used as a study text at least through the middle of the 18th century
and was acknowledged by English painters, including William Hogarth, as
a basic guide to the representation of the passions in human figures.
Certainly not all treatises on art and the passions were
continental. William Salmon's Polvgraphice or the Arts of Drawing.
Limning. Painting. Sc. first published in London in 1672, had much to
say on the passions. Specific passions were given specific descrip
tions. Passions, such as envy, calumny, and hope, were personified.
Winds, rivers, months, celestial spheres, time, eternity, and peace,
though not passions, per se, were given various personifications (or
"chiromantical signatures," as the author called them).
It is not the purpose here to document, even partially, the intri
cacies of the representations in music and art. The point to be made
from all of these examples is that art and music were filled with these
representations, all of which were determined by the creators and
performers, but all of which were expected and understood by the
listeners and viewers. Some of these representations were idiosyncra
tic to the creators. Some were idiosyncratic but still stylistic. Many
of these representations were stylistically international.
Because of the nature of music, some of the representations in
music were interpretations added during performance. In addition,
because of the nature of music, all of the representations were more
abstract than those in the visual arts. Colors, physical postures, and
common objects can have psychological associations that are relatively
26
easily transferred from daily life into art without losing much of the association. Sequences of rhythms and pitches almost never have transferred associations because they almost never exist in everyday life.
Manfred Bukofzer, in his book Music in the Barogue Era, makes two
observations that hold true for theater and art as well as music. The
first concerns the modem meanings of the words "expression" and
"representation." In today's use of these two words, there is a basic
philosophical difference implied. The passions were believed to be
static and metaphysical elements of the soul. As such, the passions of
joy, for example, cannot be "expressed" in the modern use of the word.
The passions are impersonal, immutable aspects of the soul and become
personal, according to the 17th and 18th century view, through an
individual's physical experience of them. Any musical figure or
artistic device, therefore, can only represent the passion but cannot
express it.
Bukofzer's second observation is that one must not "isolate
certain figures and classify them in a system of absolute meanings."-
The representation of the passions were never meant to be absolute.
Many of the same symbols were used in different contexts to represent
different passions. In addition, the system of representations was not
totally predetermined but evolved over time and changed from country to
country and from artist to artist, lasting stylistically intact for at
least 150 years.
The representation of the passions was the product of rational
thinking; the symbols were anything but capriciously formulated and
executed. The idea that the emotional content of the arts could be
controlled by the highest part of the soul—reason—was extremely
appealing to the 17th and 18th centuries. All of the disciplines in the
arts had an objective and technical side to creation; proportion and
perspective in the visual arts, theory in music, and the Aristotilian
principles of poetic composition in theater. With the full development
of the Doctrine of the Affections came the logical conclusion that the
emotional elements of any art could be structured and focused
objectively. For all of the thinkers of this period (except staunch
Puritans and religious fanatics), the passions, when controlled by man's
reason, enhanced the pleasures of life. The arts, therefore, not only
-^Manfred F. Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era (New York: W. Norton & Company, 1947), p. 389.
27
reflected the order of the soul—reason over emotion—but also provided
natural pleasures as well.
28
CHAPTER IV
THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS
IN THEATER
As a performing art, theater encompasses two general areas of
artistic work; composition and presentation. The primary sources
available for this dissertation concentate on only one aspect of each of
these two areas; playwriting and acting. Plays (and thus playwriting)
were considered a category of poetry, and as such were subject to the
rules and concerns of poetic composition. Acting was often called
"representation." It primarily concerned the realization of the
passions of the text through physical representation onstage.
"Poetry" (or "poesie") was the term used for all writing in verse.
Virtually all plays of the 16th and first half of the 17th century were
written in verse, as were all tragedies of the 17th and 18th centuries.
(Comedies were usually written in prose, starting before the middle of
the 17th century.) The authors of the treatises on poetry did not
distinguish between poetry written to be played onstage (called Dramatic
Poetry) and poetry written to be read silently. (Interestingly,
playwrights called themselves "Poets" through the end of the 18th
century even when they wrote in prose.)
All poetic forms used in poetry to be read were used in the early
part of this period in dramatic poetry as well- Sonnets, lyrics,
pastorals, elegies, and others were all incorporated into verse plays.
Occasionally these forms constituted the basic design or structure of a
play or a section of a play. In the same way, all poetic devices, such
as figures of speech, metrical rhythms, rhyme schemes, and imagery, that
were used in conventional poetry were also used in theatrical poetry.
The Renaissance and Baroque association of poetry with plays had
its origins in the reading of the works of ancient Greeks and Romans.
There is an assumption made by Aristotle in the Poetics as he discusses
and defines the nature of poetry that there is nothing in the nature of
poetry written to be dramatized that would distinguish it from poetry
written for any other reason. The use of poetry does not change the
nature of poetry. In the Poetics. Aristotle does not use the words
"play" or "playwright." Rather, the words "comedy," "tragedy," and
"poet" are used.
The specifics of the Aristotilian definition of poetry, comedy,
and tragedy are not particularly relevant to this study. Nor would an
examination of the 17th and 18th centuries' understanding of ancient
29
writers be relevant. Two general conclusions concerning the
relationship between poetry and plays, however, are important. First,
the devices and forms of the poetry of the time were the same as those
of the verse plays. Second, the function of all poetry of the 17th and
18th centuries, as seen by those not religiously opposed to it, was the
same; instruction and delight. Instruction was considered to be
ethical and moral in nature, and delight was ethical and esthetic in
nature.
Although there were those who were against the concept of
theatrical entertainment, and thus against all aspects of theater,-^
the pervading scholarly attitude was that theater, particularly tragedy,
when properly understood, was a beneficial instrument of moral and
ethical instruction and that the pleasure derived from it was the result
of esthetic beauty and ethical correctness. Theorists on poetry were
even more emphatic about the necessity for moral instruction in dramatic
poetry than they were in published poetry because of the nature of
theater. Greater numbers of people at any one time were affected by the
poetry in the theater than in the home. Furthermore, the passions of
audiences were moved to a greater degree because of the enactment of the
passions in the poetry than the passions of individuals could be moved
through silent reading.
One of the chiefest, and indeed the most indispensible Rule of Drammaticke Poems, is, that in them Virtues always ought to be rewarded, or at least commended, inspite of all the injuries of Fortune; and that likewise Vices be always punished, or at least detested with Horrour, though they triumph upon the Stage for that time. The Stage being thus regulated, what can Philosophy teach that won't become much more sensibly touching by Representation.
In addition to the general connection between poetry and plays,
the ancient authors, particularly the Romans, connected poetry and
rhetoric. Rhetoric is the art of crafting and delivering a public
speech; and ancient authors on the subject carefully laid out the
procedures, rules, tendencies, and concerns of the art.
-^For more information on the controversy that raged at the end of the 17th century and the beginning of the 18th century, Garland Publishing, Inc. has reprinted 90 pamphlets, essays, and treatises dating from this period all concerning the morality of the theater. The series title is The English Stage; Attack and Defense. 1577-1730.
^^Frangois Hedelin, abb6 d'Aubignac, The Whole Art of the Stage, Microfilm, Early English Books 1641-1700, reel #9 (London, 1684, microfilm, Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International, n.d.), p. 5.
30
In Book Three, Chapter One of the Rhetoric. Aristotle discusses
the overlapping areas of rhetoric and poetry and refers the reader to
his Poetics for additional information. For Aristotle, rhetoric was the
art of persuasion, and, as such, it encompassed both composition and
presentation. The Romans extensively elaborated on this dual focus of
rhetoric. Quintilian's Institutio Oratoria presents in relative depth
compositional and presentational approaches, devices, and tactics for
the movement of emotions of both the speaker and his audience.
But now it is high time for me to explain what I mean by appropriate delivery. Such appropriateness obviously lies in the adaptation of the delivery to the subjects on which we are speaking. This quality is, in the main, supplied by the emotions themselves, and the voice will ring as passion strikes its chords. But there is a difference between true emotion on the one hand, and false and fictitious emotion on the other. The former breaks out naturally, as in the case of grief, anger or indignation, but lacks art, and therefore requires to be formed by methodical training. The latter, on the other hand, does imply art, but lacks the sincerity of nature: consequently in such cases the main thing is to excite the appropriate feeling in oneself, to form a mental picture of the facts, and to exhibit an emotion that cannot be distinguished from the truth. The voice, which is the intermediary between ourselves and our hearers, will then produce precisely the same emotion in the judge that we have put into it. (XI. iii, 61-62)3'
The relation between rhetoric and poetry is further solidified
when, in the Ars Poetica. Horace refers any potential or inexperienced
poet to Quintilian as the ultimate authority on expression.
During the Renaissance and the Baroque era, there were numerous
treatises on rhetoric published in England. One of the most complete
discussions is Thomas Wilson's The Arte of Rhetorigue of 1553. Toward
the beginning of the book, Wilson sets out the requirements of an
orator: "To teache. To delight. And to perswade. "•'- It is no
coincidence that the first two requirements of the rhetorician are the
same as the recognized social and moral benefits of the poetry and
dramatic poetry of a century later. As rhetoric taught, delighted, and 33 persuaded through logic and emotion, so also did theater.
2'Quintilian, Vol. 4, p. 277.
•'-Thomas Wilson, The Arte of Rhetorigue (London, 1553, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, Inc., 1969), p. 1.2.
•'•'The 16th and 17th century writings on rhetoric did not, of course, use the word "emotion" but used the words "passion" and "affection." Furthermore, both reason and the movement of the passions
31
From rhetoric also came the concept that not only do the words and
the speaker's voice convey emotion, but also that gestures which are
natural to the physical manifestation of specific emotions, when used by
the speaker, will support and enhance the listener's emotions. Roman
and Renaissance authors of general texts on rhetoric do not detail their
works with lists of emotions and descriptions of their corresponding
gestures. The frozen gestures of the visual art of the 17th century
reveal far more of the relationship between body movement and emotion
than rhetoric texts do. What is important to note here, however, is
that rhetoric, like theater, is both a compositional and a presenta
tional art and that the purposeful and somewhat stylized expression of
emotion of rhetoric through voice and gesture gave theater models for
its own expression.
In 1644, the oldest known extant book solely devoted to the hand
and arm gestures of rhetoric was published in London. John Bulwer's
Chirologia: or the Natvrall Langvage of the Hand...Whereunto is added
Chironomia: Or. the Art of Manvall Rhetoricke (generally abbreviated as
Chirologia...Chironomia) presents, in detail, with diagrams, explana
tions of both gestures of the hand and arm and of the movement of the
fingers.-'' Each gesture is associated with a specific passion, groups
of passions, or meanings that imply specific passions.
The following two examples show the clarity of description used by
the author.
Gestus XXVII; Commisereor [I pity]
TO LET DOWN THE HAND with intent to rear some languishing creature from off the ground is a greater expression of pity and commiseration than to afford a STRETCHED OUT HAND to one who riseth of his own accord; for between these expressions the learned have made a distinction.
were held responsible for the instructive aspect of the theater. Not only could the audience feel the differences between positive and negative passions, but viewers could see in a play the logic behind the rise or downfall of characters according to the use or abuse of their
passions.
3'*Bulwer states that he would publish a treatise on head gestures. But there is no evidence that his project was ever completed. After the publication of Chirologia...Chironomia, other works on public presentation and its physicalization (vocal and gesticular) were published: Obadiah Walker's The Art of Oratory (1659) and an English translation of Le Faucher's The Art of Speaking in Public (1729). An important work for the late 18th and early 19th centuries is Gilbert Austin's Chironomia of 1806. This treatise includes whole body movement, social gestures, and oral interpretation.
32
Gestus XLIX; Pudeo [i am ashamed]
THE RECOURSE OF THE HAND TO THE FACE in shame is a natural expression as Alexander Aphrodisaeus proves. For shame being a passion that is loathe to see or be seen, the blood 13 sent up from the breast by nature, as a mask or veil to hide the laboring face; and the applying of the hands upon the face is done in imitation of the modest act of nature.-'-'
The Renaissance and Baroque era produced many treatises and
handbooks on the writing and appreciation of poetry. The differences in
emphasis and in critical and artistic perspective are rather clear as
one reads chronologically from the Elizabethan treatises to the Georgean
treatises. A number of attitudes and focuses, however, remain
consistent. One of those consistencies lies in the attitude taken
regarding the relationship between poetry and the passions. The
proposition that poetry could be written to move the passions in
specific ways was never questioned. Nor do any writings question the
methods of representation as being incorrect or misunderstood.
(Although by the middle of the 18th century, some questioned the effec
tiveness of representations that seemed much overused.)
One of the clearest examples of the representations of the
passions in poetry is found in what were called poetic "forms." These
forms—the triumph, the pastoral (also called the bucolic and the
eglogue), the lyric, the ode, the elegy, etc.—were poems that were
specifically defined and categorized according to their general subject
matter and the passions associated with their subjects.
The Arte of English Poesie of 1589 contains a rather lengthy
section which discusses these poetic forms. The following excerpt is
from the chapter that begins this discussion, entitled "Of poemes and
their sundry formes and how thereby the auncient Poets receaued
surnames."
As the matter of Poesie is diuers, so was the forme of their poemes & maner of writing, for all of them wrote not in one sort, euen as all of them wrote not vpon one matter. Neither was euery Poet alike cunning in all as in some one kinde of Poesie, nor vttered with like felicitie. But wherein any one most excelled, thereof he took a surname, as
John Bulwer, Chirologia: or the Natural Language of the Hand Whereunto is Added Chironomia: Or the Art of Manual Rhetoric (London, 1544, reprint, Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1974), pp. 59, 72.
33
to be called 5,Poet Heroick. Lvrick. Elegiack, Epigramatist. or otherwise.•**'
From ancient Greek names for the forms of poetry (and the names
for the poets who specialized in specific forms), the Renaissance and
Baroque poets took the names of their poetic forms. Along with the
traditional names of the forms came the traditional subject matter and
emotions associated with those subjects.
The author of The Arte of English Poesie (disputed to be Lord
Lumley or George Puttenham) classifies comedies, tragedies, and satyr
plays (also called satires) along with the other forms mentioned above.
Distinguishing comedies, tragedies, and satires from other forms, the
author states that the former deal with "the common abuses of mans
life." Though most other forms are shorter in length and deal with more
specific subject matter; the dramatic poem differs from all others in
that the dramatic is "put into execution by the feate & dexteritie of
mans body"-'' (that is, is acted).
The "pastoral" (or "eglogue" or "bucolic") concerns shepherds,
their assemblies, and their loves and lusts. The passions associated
with the pastoral were love, joy, and the emotions that come from cele
bration and the enjoyment of nature. The "historical" concerns the
deeds of noble men and princes. It also concerns great deeds and ideas
in the arts and sciences. Although the author gives no specific form
for "amourous affections and allurements," the sonnet was generally con
sidered an appropriate form. The rejoicings of peace and victory belong
to the "triumph" and those of new marriages belong to the "epithalamie."
The "lamentation" concerns sorrows of all sorts and from all causes.
This poetic form has many subcategories. One is the "elegy" (which is
also considered to be a subcategory of the "epitaph" and the "epigram.")
The "epigram" is a short poem that contains "bitter taunts and priuy
nips, or, witty scoffes and other merry conceits."^^ The "epitaph" is
a species of epigram, the subject matter of which was the dead. An
elegy is a long epitaph.
Sir Philip Sidney, in his Apologie for Poetrie of 1595, states
that these poetic forms ("kindes," as he calls them) are often mixed
within a single poem. The historical and the pastoral are frequently
3^[Lord Lumley?], The Arte of English Poesie (London, 1589, reprint. New York: Da Capo Press, 1971), p. 19.
^'^ibid., p. 17.
3^ibid., p. 43.
34
combined. In dramatic poetry, comedy and tragedy often combine into what Sidney terms the "tragi-comical."
Some forms were associated with specific meters. Thomas Campion,
in his Observations in the Art of English Poesie of 1602, notes that the
heroic is associated with iambic meter (specifically iambic pentameter)
and the epigram with trochaic meter.
Throughout the 17th century, these types of poetry continued to be
described in treatises and associated with the passions. Two French
treatises, the importance of which is discussed by Thomas Blount in De
Re Poetica: Or Remarks Upon Poetry of 1694, are Rene Rapin's
Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise of Poesie (published in English in
1674) and Boileau's The Art of Poetry (published in English in 1683).
All three of these works affirm the standard forms and their
associations.
These poetic forms were incorporated into sections and into the
lines and speeches of the verse plays of this period. Although there
seem to be no references mentioned in any poetry treatise as to the use
of these forms in dramatic poetry, many of these forms are very clearly
observable. Those forms that are most clear are those where the com
positional elements of rhyme and meter define the form (as in the
sonnet) and those where the subject matter and the passions spoken of
are so specific that there can be no doubt of correct identification.
These forms, however, are not the only representations of the
passions in dramatic poetry. Descriptions of character behavior typical
of those behaviors associated with specific passions are very common.
Also common are the use of the signs of the passions in both speech and
action. Other representations involve those character actions required,
by the lines of the play that are not the typical signs of the passions
but nevertheless give visual demonstrations of a passion to the
audience. Both the use of signs and other actions fall into both the
categories of compositional and performance symbols. Other representa
tions, such as the title of the play itself or the very mention of a
passion in a line, might serve as equally powerful symbols.
When searching for examples of these representations, it is
important to understand that they are nothing so definite or codified as
to be absolute in any way. The meanings of titles of plays and words or
phrases that speak of specific passions are straightforward enough.
Descriptions of character behavior and the poetic forms, however, are
not always so clearly related to a particular passion or so clearly
delineated in the text. Character behavior is often complex and multi-
35
faceted, and the poetic forms were free in relative size and free in the
use of meter and poetic devices. Furthermore, the poetic form was
determined by the particular compositional structuring of the play, both
on the macro and micro levels, as well as by the form's subject matter
and passions. This condition further obscures accurate identification.
The sonnet is perhaps the easiest form to identify in a play.
This form has always been associated with love and lust (though not all
sonnets by all poets are). One famous example of a sonnet skillfully
incorporated into a play is found in Act 1, scene 5 of Romeo and Juliet.
All of the lines that Romeo and Juliet speak to each other are in sonnet
form equally divided between the two characters; four lines, four
lines, one line, one line, two lines, two lines. Immediately upon the
end of this sonnet, another one is begun but is broken by the inter
ruption of the Nurse. This is as clear an example of the use of a
poetic form to represent a passion as one is likely to find.
The passion of melancholy is one of the principal passions of a
great many dramas and tragedies of the 17th and 18th centuries. This
period was fascinated with melancholy as both a passion and a disease.
In Shakespeare's Southampton. A. L. Rowse states that Shakespeare used
Wright's The Passions of the Minde in Generall for his information on
melancholy for the writing of Hamlet.^^ Although Rowse supplies no
evidence to support his claim, the first edition of the book was printed
the same year that Hamlet is thought to have been written and thus .might
have been available to Shakespeare.
In his book, Wright discusses the general tendencies of a passion
out of control. Many of these are clearly observable in the character
of Hamlet. According to Wright, passions out of control tend to make a
person talk either too much or too little. Speech and action can become
rash. Speech can be specifically tempered to mock and scoff. People
tend toward secretiveness. Passions tend to be manifested in one's
apparel. (Hamlet wears black throughout the whole play.)
Wright states that all passions begin from love. Those that are
negative (evil) arise from the love of something positive (good).
Hamlet's melancholy comes from his love of his father and his mother.
It was universally accepted as fact that all passions are moved by the
act of perception. At the beginning of the play, Hamlet's father has
3'A. L. Rowse, Shakespeare's Southampton (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 230.
36
just died; Hamlet has just seen his mother married to his uncle; and he soon sees the ghost of his father.
According to Wright, any urgent or potent reason can stir a
passion. The death of Hamlet's father and his mother's incestuous
marriage to his uncle are two urgent and potent reasons for Hamlet's
passion. The greatness of the injury done to a person, the manner in
which the injury was inflicted, general distractions, and general
discontent all can force a passion out of one's control.
Although Robert Burton's The Anatomy of Melancholy was written 20
years after Hamlet, for the specifics of melancholy, this book is the
best source. Among the causes for melancholy that Burton gives are many
that apply to Hamlet: sorrow, hatred, desire for revenge, anger, death
of a loved one, and overwork at one's studies. (Hamlet has just left
his studies at Wittenberg before the play opens.)
In the play, Shakespeare writes some very vivid descriptions of
Hamlet's melancholy. Perhaps one of the clearest descriptions is in Act
2, scene 2, in Ophelia's lines.
My lord, as I was sewing in my closet. Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungartered, and down-gyvied to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so pitious in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, - he comes before me... He took me by the wrist and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arm; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow. He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; At last, a little shaking of his arm And thrice his head thus waving up and down. He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being; that done, he lets me go; And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd. He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; For out o' doors he went without their helps. And, to the last, bended their light on me.
Burton states that melancholy can have both natural and super
natural causes. As mentioned above, there seem to be many natural
causes for Hamlet's emotional state. Upon close examination, it is
evident that Shakespeare provides both natural and supernatural causes
for Hamlet's melancholy.
" "A very intense, unspoken enactment of these lines is in the current Mel Gibson/Glenn Close film of Hamlet.
37
Supernaturally-caused melancholy, according to Burton, is always
the result of the workings of God or the devil. In the case of the play
Hamlet, the workings of the devil are very evident. Hamlet's father's
ghost tells Hcunlet a number of things that indicate the hand of an evil
force. First, the ghost says that he has come from a hell-like
existence to which he must return. Second, when Claudius killed old
King Hamlet, he did so with the aid of witchcraft. Third, Gertrude was
seduced by Claudius also through witchcraft. "But virtue, as it never
will be moved,/ Though lewdness court it in the shape of heaven,/ So
lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,/ Will sate itself in a celestial
bed,/ And prey on garbage" (I. 5. 53-57). Burton states that the devil
may assume any shape, including celestial ones, and may be seen by the
afflicted person as spirits, visions, or miracles. Not only does the
ghost appear from hell, but the ghost also describes Gertrude's seducer,
Claudius, in the lines quoted above as a celestial impostor.
Several images used in Ophelia's description of Hamlet indicate
the supernatural nature of his melancholy. The first is a reference to
Hamlet as looking like King Hamlet's ghost: "As if he had been loosed
out of hell/ To speak of horrors." The second is a reference to the
crucifixion of Christ; "And thrice his head thus waving up and down,/
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound/ As it did seem to shatter all
his bulk/ And end his being." The third is a reference to a miracle of
sorts; "And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,/ He seem'd to find
his way without his eyes;/ For out o' doors he went without their
helps,/ And, to the last, bended their light on me." This last quote is
somewhat enigmatic, but a resurrected Hamlet able to see ahead of him
self without the use of his eyes seems to be the image. The last part
of the quote, that his eyes "bended their light on me," suggests a
benediction or a bestowal of grace. (It is, perhaps, a transfer of
Hamlet's partially supernaturally-caused melancholy onto Ophelia, which
is not triggered in her until the death of Polonius, her father.)
Looking at possible poetic forms in Hamlet, a few are rather
easily observed. Polonius often speaks in epigrams. The epigram was
usually short. The subject matter could vary greatly, but it had to be
witty and have well turned-out phrases. It usually had a definite
beginning and a definite short closing summary. The passions associated
with the epigram were many: quibbling, argumentativeness, self-love of
one's own rhetorical abilities, egotistical need to prove one's point,
etc. One of Polonius's most famous epigrams is his short advice to his
son, the departing Laertes.
38
And these few precepts keep in thy memory See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue. Nor any unportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried. Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrad. Beware Of entrance into a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy. But not expressed in fancy; rich not gaudy; For apparel oft proclaims the man. And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend. And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow as the night the day. Thou canst then not be false unto any man. (I. iii 58-80)
The elegy is another poetic form incorporated into Hamlet. Its
subject matter concerns any form of musing over the dead. The passions
associated with the elegy were directly related to the emotional
position of the author: lamentation, pity, sorrow, mockery, denial,
acceptance, etc. The beginning of the graveyard scene (Act V, scene 1),
which Shakespeare sets apart from the surrounding play with prose
writing, is elegiac. The grave diggers are rather irreverent, and
though Hamlet picks up some of their mood, he stays relatively sober and
reflective. Hamlet's famous "Alas, poor Yorick" speech is a good
example of an elegy written in prose and is perhaps the emotional focus
of the scene.
The heroic is also represented in Hamlet. This poetic form was
used to describe the heroic deeds of noble men of high rank. The
passions associated with this form are straightforward: the heroic and
nobleness. Both the heroic and nobleness were considered passions, and
the purpose of the heroic poem was to narrate great deeds and also to
inspire these two passions in the listener.
Horatio's speech concerning the great heroics of the late King
Hamlet (Act I, scene 1) is a clear example of a heroic poem. our last king.
Whose image even now appeared to us, Was, as you know by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereunto picked on by a most emulate pride. Dared to combat; in which our valient Hamlet -For so this side of our known world esteem'd him -Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by seal'd compact. Well ratified by law and heraldry,
39
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: Against which, a moiety competent Was gaged by our king; which has return'd To the inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant. And his carriage of the article design'd. His fell to Hamlet... (I. 1. 80-95)
As was common practice, the poetic forms sometimes overlapped and
combined, common with the heroic and the historical. Many times, the
difference between the two is one of emphasis: the former concentrating
on heroic deeds, and the latter concentrating on deeds in general. This
speech seems to be an example of the combination of the two. Upon the
return of the ghost a few lines after the end of this speech, the
audience will know some of the immediate history of the kingdom but will
also feel something toward the king's ghost. That feeling will be one
of respect and admiration for his heroism and nobility.
In the verse plays of this period, there were constant references
to the character's own present state. These references ranged from
subtle to obvious and from plainly stated to elaborately flowered.
Hamlet's first speech of any length tells of his rather overwhelming
sorrow over his father's death. (In this speech, black is not only
associated with death but also with melancholy. Black was the color of
the humor melancholy.)
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother. Nor customary suits of solemn black. Nor windy suspirations of forced breath. No, nor the fruitful river of the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage. Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief. That denote me truly; these indeed seem. For they are actions that a man might play; But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and suits of woe. (I. ii. 77-86)
Today, the description of a character's emotional state and the
physical manifestations of that state by a playwright would be
considered overly melodramatic at best and bad playwriting at worst. In
understanding Shakespeare, and all of the other playwrights of the 17th
and 18th centuries, it is necessary to remember that the descriptions of
the passions of any particular character were a necessary component in
the emotional response of the audience. The actors, as will be
discussed, based their performances on these descriptions of passions
and their physicalizations. Audiences responded to both the actors and
to the words they spoke. In Elizabethan, Jacobean, and Baroque theater,
both kinds of representations of the passions were necessary and
expected.
40
To pin down Hamlet's melancholy to something close to a diagnosis
and find its many causes would be unproductive. A play is not a case
study, and playwrights take license with "facts," as a play is a piece
of fiction. The actor and the critic must be content with general
causes and general results. Today, the actor needs to find causes. The
Elizabethan and Baroque actor did not. What was not clearly in the text
was not searched for. In addition, the 17th and 18th century actor did
not (in modern parlance) "play the cause" but "played the effect." (And
in "playing the effect," the actor would—if things went as planned—
feel the cause in himself.)
Discussing the particulars of melancholy in the plays of John Ford
(who wrote between 1621 and 1638), S. Blaine Ewing in his book,
Burtonian Melancholy in the Plays of John Ford, analyzes A Lover's
Melancholy for its correspondence with Burton's view of the disorder-
Citing the following passage from the play, Ewing mentions that this
description of Prince Palador's state of mind is given before the Prince
sets foot on the stage.
He's the same melancholy man He was at's father's death; sometimes speaks sense. But seldom mirth; will smile, but seldom laugh; Will lend an ear to business, deal in none; Gaze upon revels; antic fopperies. But is not moved; will sparingly discourse. Hear music; but what most he takes delight in Are handsome pictures. One so young and goodly. So sweet in his own nature, any story
Hath seldom mentioned. (I. 1. 70-79)
The purpose of this representation of this one character's state
of passion is to acquaint the audience with his nature before he arrives
onstage. The audience will then have a predetermined understanding of
this character so that, when the actor portrays this melancholy prince,
the audience will immediately perceive the truth in the character-
This is the underlying reason for all representations of the
passions in plays; to demonstrate with clarity through the movement of
emotion the truth of the character. The correspondence between a char
acter's spoken passions and his acted passions must be one for one. In
other words, every spoken passion is to be accompanied by an acted one,
and vice versa. Rhetias. [Aside] How 'a eyes the company! Sure my passion
will betray my weakness - [To Meleander.] O, my master, my noble master, do not forget me; I am still the humblest and most faithful in heart of those that serve you.
Meleander. Ha! Ha! Ha!
41
Rhetias. [Aside.] Ther's wormwood in that laughter; 'tis the usher to a violent extremity. (II. 2. 76-83)
The function of the line, "Sure my passion will betray my
weakness," is not to represent a specific passion but to indicate its
intensity both to the actor and to the audience. The passion, and
therefore the line, is a reaction to what the character sees are the
actions of the others present. Rhetia's second aside serves to clarify
the passion that motivated Meleander's laugh and to anticipate
Meleander's uncontrolled outburst that is about to follow.
One of the most important devices for signalling a moment of un
controlled passions is stichomythia. Stichomythia is verse writing of
dialogue using one line responses for each character. The following
excerpt (from farther toward the end of A Lover's Melancholy) demon
strates a special species of stichomythia. Here the lines of verse are
fractured between the two characters.
Eroclea. For my friend I plead with grounds of reason.
Thamasta. For thy love. Hard-hearted youth, I here renounce all thoughts Of other hoes, of other entertainments -
Eroclea. Stay, as you honour virtue!
Thamasta. When the proffers Of other greatness -
Eroclea. Lady!
Thamasta. When entreats
Of friends -
Eroclea. I'll ease your grief.
Thamasta. Respect of kindred -Eroclea. Pray give me hearing.
Thamasta. Loss °f f ™® ~
Eroclea. ^ crave But a few minutes.
Thamasta. Shall infringe my vows. Let heaven -
Eroclea. My love speaks fee; hear, then go on.
Thamasta. Thy love! Why 'tis a charm to stop a vow In its most violent course.
Eroclea. Cupid has broke His arrows here and, like a child unarmed,
42
Comes to make sport between us with no weapon But feathers stolen from his mother's doves.
Thamasta. This is mere trifling.
Eroclea. Lady, take a secret. (Ill, 2. 145-160)
The stichomythia here gives a visual clue to the fractured nature
of the characters' psyches and to the emotional turmoil of both char
acters. It is important to note that, more often than not, the rhythm
of the line is not broken by the changing of the characters. In the
above excerpt, most of the lines scan in iambic pentameter regardless of
the change in speaker. This indicates not that the characters' passions
are necessarily the same but that their dynamics are. Thus, both
characters' passions are out of control- In general, this is the
purpose of stichomythia (whether it is the fractured kind or the single
line species); to indicate the intensity of the passions."*'
The play, A Lover's Melancholy, is itself a moral representation
of the effect that one person's out-of-control passions (particularly if
that person is the head of state) have upon others. In the play, the
whole country suffers as a result of the melancholy of the monarch. The
monarch's passion is a melancholy of love, and as such, it disturbs the
passions of all other lovers and would-be lovers. Not until the monarch
himself brings his melancholy to an end do all the lovers (including
himself) pair off in a natural order, according to their love.
The constraints of morality placed upon a play through society by
the playwright, regarding the appropriateness of certain passions and
the effect of those passions on the characters, were probably stronger
after the Restoration than before. The English theater during the first
three decades or so of the Restoration was heavily influenced by
Continental theatrical theory, particularly French Neoclassicism. This
influence strengthened the constraints of morality that were already in
place in English theater at the time of the Commonwealth.
In this excerpt from the preface to All for Love, it is clear that
the playwright, John Dryden, tried to work within the moral boundaries
of his society and tailored the characters' passions to those
boundaries.
" 'A careful and considered discussion of the performance of stichomythia in today's theater can be found in John Barton's Playing Shakespeare. Barton advocates the absence of any pause within the fractured line.
43
The fabric of the play is regular enough, as to the inferior parts of it; and the unities of time, place, and action more exactly observed than, perhaps, the English theater requires. Particularly, the action is so much one that is the only one of the kind without episode or underplot; every scene in the tragedy conducing to the main design, and every act concluding with a turn of it. The greatest error in contrivance seems to be in the person of Octavia; for, though I might use the privilege of a poet to introduce her into Alexandria, yet I had not enough considered that the compassion she moved to herself and children was destructive to that which I reserved for Antony and Cleopatra; whose mutual move, being founded upon vice, must lessen the favor of the audience to them, when virtue and innocence were oppressed by it. And though I justified Antony in some measure by making Octavia's departure to proceed wholly from herself, yet the force of the first machine still remained; and dividing the pity, like the cutting of a river into many channels, abated the strength of the natural stream." ^
Although the poetic forms were standard modes of poetic expression
throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, by Dryden's time their presence
in dramatic poetry seems to have all but disappeared. In All for Love.
there are a few passages that could be called heroic. The other poetic
forms, however, are not represented. Instead, the passions are
represented by straightforward statements that describe the passion, its
dynamics, and its physical manifestations. The following speech of Mark
Antony's illustrates this point.
Lie there, thou shadow of an emperor. The place thou pressest on thy mother earth Is all thy empire now. Now it contains thee: When thou contracted in thy narrow urn. Shrunk to a few cold ashes. Then Octavia (For Cleopatra will not live to see it), Octavia then will have thee all her own. And bear thee in her widowed hand to Caesar. Caesar will weep, the crocodile will weep. To see his rival of the universe Lie still and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't. Give me some music; look that it be sad. I'll soothe my melancholy till I swell And burst myself with sighing. (I. 216-230) In this passage, the subject matter of the character's spoken
thoughts indicates his passion. By the end of the quote, the char
acter's emotional dynamics have crescendoed to the point where the
character names his passion.
A few lines later, Ventitius, angry at Antony's emotional
indulgence, confronts Antony.
" -John Dryden, "Preface," All for Love, ed. David Vieth (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1972), pp. 13-14.
44
VENTIDIUS. I must disturb him; I can hold no longer.
Stands before him.
ANTONY (Starting up). Art thou Ventidius?
VENTIDIUS. Are you Antony? I'm liker what I was, than you to him I left you last.
ANTONY. I am angry.
VENTIDIUS. So am I.
ANTONY. I would be private. Leave me.
VENTIDIUS. Sir, I love you. And therefore will not leave you.
ANTONY. • Will not leave me?
(I. 245-250)
Ventidius's first line anticipates the explosion of the passion of
anger. At the moment of Antony's explosion, the passion is so intense
that it is stated without any poetic flourishes. Stichomythia is also
used to heighten the passion even further.
All for Love is a tragedy, and tragedies were generally held in
higher esteem throughout the 17th century above comedies. The general
consensus was that tragedies were morally purifying, whereas comedies
encourage immorality. Citing Aristotle and his Poetics, English
morality saw the importance in supporting the performance of tragedies;
catharsis, the purging of the passions. Comedy, on the other hand, was
believed to agitate the passions. Laughter, particularly laughter at
immoral or socially unacceptable behavior (as would occur in most
comedies) was believed to leave a person's passions in that agitated
state. This attitude again found its justification in Aristotle.
Other arguments in favor of tragedy over comedy were esthetic in
nature. Tragedy was more pleasing; or, as some put it, tragedy was
naturally pleasing. In 1678 and 1693, Thomas Rymer published two essays
reflective of the moralist and esthetic viewpoint. In the first essay.
The Tragedies of the Last Age, Rymer states that both comedy and tragedy
please, but that comedy pleases through devices: actors, dances, and
machines, whereas tragedy can please without any of these (and thus,
naturally). Rymer admits that the passions are moved through both types
of plays; and in that sense, both types are natural. "Certain it is,
that Nature is the same, and Man is the same, he loves, grieves, hates,
envies, has the same affections and passions in both places, and the
45
same springs that give them motion. What mov'd pity there, will here
also produce the same effect. "^ Rymer states, however, that the
purging of the passions is natural and the cultivation of agitated ones
is not.
One of the most complete 17th century discussions on the purging
of the passions was written by John Dryden in his preface to his play
Troilus and Cressida (published in 1679).
To instruct delightfully is the general end of all Poetry: Philosophy instructs, but it performs its work by precept: which is not delightfull, or not so delightfull as Example. To purge the passions by Example is therfore the particular instruction which belongs to Tragedy. Rapin a judicious Critic, has observ'd from Aristotle that pride and want of commiseration are the most predominant vices in Mankinde: therefore to cure us of these two, the inventors of Tragedy, have chosen to work upon other passions, which are fear and pity. We are wrought to fear, by their seting before our eyes some terrible example of misfortune, which hapned to persons of the highest Quality; for such an action demonstrates to us, that no condition is privileg'd from the turns of pride. But when we see that the most virtuous, as well as the greatest, are not exempt /rom such misfortunes, that consideration moves pity in us."^
Dryden goes on to write that a poet who writes tragedies is
morally bound to provide for the purging of the passions in his plays;
before any detail of scene, dialogue, or character is written, the
framework of the passions that will lead to catharsis must first be
built.
According to Dryden, after constructing the framework of the
passions, the playwright constructs the plot. The conception and com
position of the manners follows next. The manners encompass what today
would be called "personality." Included in the manners are the specific
manifestations of the passions (both psychological and physical).
The manners arise from many causes: and are either distinguish'd by complexion, as choleric and phlegmatic, or by the differences of Age or Sex, or Climates, or Quality of the persons, or their present condition: they are likewise to be gathered from the several Virtues, Vices, or Passions, and many other common-places which a Poet must be suppose'd to have learn'd from natural Philosophy, Ethics, and History; of all which whosoever is ignorant, does not deserve the Name of Poet.
' •'Thomas Rymer, The Tragedies of the Last Aoe Consider'd and Examin'd (London, 1678, reprint. New York; Garland Publishing, 1974), p. 6.
' ' John Dryden, "The Preface," Troilus and Cressida (London, 1679, reprint, London; Cornmarket Press, 1969), n. pag.
46
But as the manners are usefull in this Art, as they may be all compris'd under these general heads; First, they must be apparent, that is in every character of the Play, some inclinations of the Person must appear; and these are shown in the actions and discourse. Secondly, the manners must be suitable or agreeing to the Persons...The third property of manners is resemblance; and this is founded upon the particular characters of men
The last property of manners is, that they be constant, and equal, that is, maintained the same through the whole design.*^
Dryden asserts that the manners of any given character also must
be consistent with the type of person being represented. Some passions
and characteristics naturally go with others, and some naturally do not.
Thus the same man may be liberal and valiant, but not liberal and covetous; so in a Comical character,...Falstaff is a lyar, and a coward, a Glutton, and a Buffon, because all these qualities may agree in the same man; yet it is still to be observ'd that one virtue, vice, and passion, ought to be shown in every man, as predominant over all the rest.' ^
The last part of this quote is important in understanding the
emotional focus of speeches, large sections of a play, and the lack of
gradual evolution in characters. What today may be seen as two-
dimensional was a specifically chosen character focus decided upon for
its natural resemblance to reality.
Dryden continues by stating that it is the true and accurate re
presentation of a character that allows for pity and fear to be moved
and purged. Characters whose motivations and passions are not clear to
the audience can only confuse the viewers and dampen the movement of
their passions. A play where all characters are alike in their passions
will likewise confuse. Passions that are given to a character that are
not contradictory to the character's general personality but that are
contradictory in a given moment (such as joy and grief), if represented
simultaneously, will cancel out any passions in the audience. Further
more, a poet's overexuberance of passion and wit in his writing will as
well confuse the audience and tend to keep its passions unmoved.
As can be seen in all the verse excerpts from plays quoted above
(including those of Shakespeare), there was an adherence by good play
wrights to these basic principles even before the ideas were in print.
Although the solidification of these principles occurred in the second
half of the 17th century, they were clearly reflected in the plays of
ibid., n. pag.
ibid., n. pag.
47
the first half of the century. Those principles that were specifically set down on paper were those that specifically applied to tragedy. As tragedy was considered the superior form of theater, treatises on plays discussed compositional rules as they were used in tragedy. Comedy (and tragicomedy) was sometimes mentioned as a contrast to tragedy, although it was rarely discussed by itself.
In the last excerpt quoted above, Dryden implies that the rules
pertaining to the correct use of manners and passions in tragedy are
also applied to comedy by referring to the character of Falstaff to make
his point. Whether these rules were as strictly adhered to in comedy is
difficult to ascertain, but in all probability, they were not. Tragedy
was almost always written in verse. At the beginning of the 17th
century, many comedies and tragicomedies were as well. By the end of
the century, however, few plays were written in verse that were not
tragedies. In addition, as comedy was viewed as morally and estheti-
cally inferior, one would not expect the same amount of care to be taken
in its composition.
In comedies, character names became one of the clearest represen
tations of character manners. Names usually encompass more than the
character's passions. Names were picked that could communicate clearly
specific personalities and personality types. Ben Jonson's Bartholomew
Favre of 1614, for example, contains such usage of character names.
Names, such as, John Littlewit, Dame Purecraft, Adam Overdo, Grace
Wellborn, and Lantern Leatherhead, suggest humorous personality types
from which the passions of each character can be deduced.
The following is from a soliloquy of Adam Overdo's, a Justice of
the Peace. To see what bad events may peep out o' the tail of good purposes! The care I had of that civil young man I took fancy to this morning (and have not let it yet) drew me to that exhortation, which drew the company, indeed which drew the cutpurse; which drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his loss; which drew on Wasp's anger; which drew on my beating: a pretty graduation! And they shall ha' it i' their dish, i' faith, at night for fruit: I love to be merry at my table. I had thought once, at one special blow he game, to have revealed myself; but then (I thank thee, fortitude) I remembered that a wise man (and who is ever so great a part o' the commonwealth in himself) for no particular disaster ought to abandon a public good design. The husbandman ought not for one unthankful year, to forsake the plough; the shepherd ought not, for one scabbed sheep, to throw by his tar-box; the pilot ought not for one leak i' the poop, to quit the helm, nor the alderman ought not for one custard more, at a meal, to give up his cloak... (III.3.11-27)
48
(A character who overhears all or part of Overdo's speech says to his companion, "What does he talk to himself, and act so seriously? Poor fool!")
Although undoubtedly there are many subtleties of character that
have been lost in the intervening centuries, there are certain aspects
of Overdo that are rather clear. These aspects are only indirectly
related to any character passions. His very serious, unending dis
cussion with himself over recent events indicates a type of person who
might have certain passions. The dry listing of cause with effect at
the beginning and at the end of this excerpt is perhaps a stereotype of
petty bureaucrats. Perhaps it is also indicative of stereotype of the
legal mind.
The passions that are inherent in this character are not
specifically stated in the text of the play; nor are specific passions
stated for any other character in this play. The passions are implied,
however, through character name, occupation, and action. It is probably
the last one of these—character action—through which the passions
would be most clearly represented; and action would include not only the
stated actions in the play itself but also the actor's own devised
physical actions. The representation of the passions in comedic plays
probably relied far more on performance techniques than compositional
techniques.
In the comedy The Plain-Dealer (first performed in 1676), William
Wycherley gives character descriptions that accompany the printed char
acter list. Of Captain Manly, the playwright writes, "Of an honest,
surly, nice humor, suppos'd first, in the time of the Dutch War, to have
procur'd the Command of a Ship, out of Honour, not Interest; choosing a
Sea-life, only to avoid the World." Of My Lord Plausible,'' Wycherley
writes, "A Ceremonious Supple, Commending Coxcomb, in Love with
Olivia. ""^ These two character descriptions imply a set of passions
that would be appropriate and typical for a performance of this period.
The following exchange between the two characters reflects well
the nature of their names and descriptions.
'*''A footnote in The Plays of William Wycherley, edited by Arthur Friedman, reads that "Plausible" is used "in the obsolete sense of 'Expressive of applause of approbation.'"
' William Wycherley, Th^ Plain-Dealer, in The Plays of William Wycherley, ed. Arthur Friedman (Oxford: At the Clarendon Press, 1979), p. 374.
49
L. Plaus. Well, tell not me, my dear Friend, what people deserve, I ne'r mind that; I, like an Author in a Dedication, never speak well of a man for his sake, by my own; I will not disparage any man, to disparage my self; for to speak ill of people behind their backs, is not like a Person of Honour; and truly to speak ill of 'em to their faces, is not like a complaisant person; But if I did say, or do an ill thing to any Body, it shou'd be sure to be behind their backs, out of pure good manners.
Man. Very well; but I that am an unmannerly Sea-fellow, if I ever speak well of people, (which is very seldon indeed) it shou'd be sure to be behind their backs; and if I wou'd say, or do ill to any, it shou'd be to their faces; I wou'd justle a proud, strutting, over-looking Coxcomb, at the head of his Sycophants, rather than put out my tongue at him, when he were past me; wou'd frown in the arrogant, big, dull face of an overgrown Knave of business, rather than vent my spleen against him, when his back is turned... (I. 1. 35-51)
In this excerpt, the characters do not describe their emotional
state, per se. Rather, their emotional state is implied through the
descriptions of their likes and dislikes and through declarations of how
these will affect (or have affected) their behavior. The passions
implied are left for the actors to portray.
In The Plain-Dealer, Wycherley uses a prose version of
stichomythia to show the intensity of passion- The following exchange
is between Captain Manly and Widow Blackacre:
Wid- I never had so much to do with a Judges Door keeper, as with yours, but -
Man. But the incomparable Olivia, how does she since I went? Wid. Since you went, by Suit -Man. Olivia. I say, is she well? Wid. My Suit, if you had not return'd -Man. Dam your Suit, how does your Cousin Olivia? Wid. My Suit, I say, had been quite lost; but now -Man. But now, where is Olivia? in Town? For -Wid. For to morrow we are to have a Hearing. Man. Wou'd you'd let me have a Hearing to day. Wid. But why won't you hear me? Man. I am no Judge, and you talk of nothing but Suits; but pray
tell me, when did you see Olivia? (I. 1. 414-426)
Although this play is in prose, the short lines, which suggest
interruption and immediate reply, are an indication of the intensity of
the passions of the speakers. As with stichomythia in verse, this
stylistic device does not indicate any specific passion, nor does it
imply that each character is moved by the same passion. Rather, through
a change in the play's speed, rhythm, and length of character line, the
change in the passions present and in their dynamics are clearly represented.
Skipping a century of theatrical comedy and looking at the works
of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, it is clear that the rules for the repre-
50
sentation of the manners as outlined by John Dryden and the stylistic
conventions of characterization seen in Wycherley were maintained
through the 18th century- Following the conventions, character names
still represent a type or caricature. Character speeches continue to
indicate the passions indirectly, leaving most of their representation
to the actor. Following the rules of manners, aspects of the character
appear in the actions of that character, the manners being always con
sistent with the nature of the character and always maintained from
beginning to end with one central aspect to the character that is
focused on in the play.
In The Rivals, for example, when Lydia Languish dramatizes her
life by acting like one of the characters in the novels she reads, there
is implied in her actions a number of passions. When Mrs. Malaprop
delivers her famous speech concerning the education of young women,
there is a spectrum of passions implied. When Sir Lucius O'Trigger
convinces Bob Acres to challenge his rival in love to a duel, the
passions implied are clearly reflected in his name and in his word
choices. The manners and passions of each character, as exhibited in
his or her initial scene, remain unchanged to the final curtain.
All representations of the passions in the words and compositional
structure of the plays of the 17th and 18th centuries were underscored
and elaborated upon by the physical representations of those passions by
the actors. The performance of the passions by actors was considered
equally as important as the writing of them. In the acting of the
passions, theater had several traditions from which to draw. The
gestures of rhetoric, the postures and suggested movements of figures
depicted in the visual arts, the long history of discussions and
treatises on the intricacies of the passions, as well as the theater's
own performance tradition from the preceding century made up the sources
available to theater for the representation of the passions in
performance.
There are six treatises on theater performance practices and
acting from the 17th and 18th centuries that have been available for
this paper: The Whole Art of the Stage by Frangois Hedelin, abbe
d'Aubignac (published in English in 1684); The History of the English
Stage by Thomas Betterton (1741); An Essay on Acting—anonymous (but
attributed to David Garrick, 1744); A Treatise on the Passions so far as
thev regard the stage by Samuel Foote (1747); An Essay on the Art of
Acting by Aaron Hill (1753); and A General View of the Stage by Thomas
51
Wilkes (1759). All six treatises discuss in detail the representation
of the passions through the physical actions of actors.
According to the Translator's Preface, The Whole Art of the Stage
was written sometime during the English Commonwealth period. Frangois
Hedelin, abbot of Aubignac, was recjuested by Cardinal Richelieu to write
a treatise on the theater. Perhaps one of the most complete primary
source documents on French Neoclassicism, The Whole Art of the Stage
discusses the nature of theater in general, ancient theater, the
morality of theater, the rules of play composition (specifically
tragedy), and the practice of the representation of the passions in
plays and in their performances.
Concerning the general principles that guide the movement of the
passions in theater, the author has several observations.
First, then the Cause which is to produce a Motion in the Actors themselves, and then in the Audience, ought to be something true, or believ'd to be so, not only by the Actor who speaks (who would be ridiculous to make a great Discourse of Grief or Joy for a thing he should know to be false) but also the Spectators, who probably would not be concern'd if they knew that the Subject he had to complain or rejoyce were fictitious; and if it so fall out, that by the rest of the Story, the Spectator must know a thing contrary to the belief of the Actor: As for Example, that a Princess is alive, though a Lover believe her dead; I say, if in that case one would have the Passion take with the Audience, there must not be a long complaint mingled with Sentiments of kindness and grief; but the Actor must be presently transported into Rage, that the Spectators be touched by his violent despair, and feel a great deal of compassion...
Secondly, 'Tis not enough that the Cause of some extraordinary Motion of the Mind be true, but it must also (to be agreeably represented upon the Stage) be reasonable and probable, according to the receiv'd Opinions of Mankind; for if any Actor should fly into a passion of Anger, without reason, he would be look'd upon as a Mad-man, instead of being pitied...
Thirdly, To make a Complaint that shall touch and concern the Audience, the cause of it must be just, for else no body will enter into the Sentiments of the grieved Person- For example, if an Actor should express great affliction for not having been able to Execute a Conspiracy against a good Prince, or some great piece of Treachery against his Country, he would be look'd upon as a wicked, and not an unhappy Person, and all that he could say would but encrease the Peoples aversion to him-
Besides all these Considerations, if the Pathetic Discourse be not necessary, that is to say, expected and desired by the Spectators, it will be very nauseous to them, let the Poets Art be what it will...
But one of the chiefest observations of all is this. That all passions that are not founded upon Opinions and Customs comfortable to those of the Spectators, are sure to be cold, and of no effect, because they being already
52
possessed with an Opinion contrary to the Action of the Player, cannot approve of any thing he says or does in another sense...
Thus, for the same reason, those Pathetick Discourses, which we read in the Greek and Latine Comedys, will never take with us, as they did upon the Stages of the ancients, because we have but little Conformity to the Rules of their Lives.. .
'Tis for this reason too I imagine that Tragedys taken out of the Stories of Scripture, are not so agreeable, for all the Pathetick Motions are founded upon Vertues that have not much Conformity with the Rules of our Life, to which may be added, that being scarce pious enough to suffer Devotion in Churches themselves, it cannot be expected we should love it upon the Stage...
Aubignac's points are very clear and need no further elaboration.
The author continues with additional observations.
Having thus observed what concerns the Cause and Motive of Theatral Passions, I have likewise made some Reflections upon the manner of managing them in a Pathetick Discourse.
The first observation is. That it is not enough to raise a passion upon a good Incident, and to begin with strong Lines, but it must be carry'd to the point of its fullness. 'Tis not enough to have shaken the Minds of the Audience, you must ravish them; and to do it, you must seek matter, either in the greatness of your Subject, or in the different Motives and Colours which environ it; but particularly in the strength and richness of your own Imagination, which ought to be warm'd, and elevated, and as it were, be in labour to bring forth something worthy of admiration... The difficulty here lies in the exactness of measure; for as you are not to starve your Hearers appetite, so you must have as great a care not to cloy him...
...For we have seen often upon our Stages, passion begun and forsaken half way, or at least pursed with so little Art and warmth, that they had been less defectuous if they had spot'd in the beginning of their career...
But he must be very careful not to spend all the strength of a passion at first; he must reserve some thoughts for the continuation of it; for the same passion continued and held up by divers Incidents, with a change of appearances, must certainly be much more agreeable than a new passion in every Scene...
Secondly, To guide these Pathetick Motions to the point of their true Extent, it must be done with order, and by following the Motions of Nature, with a regard to the quality of things that are said...
Yet he must always remember that Pathetick Discourses are not to end just as they begin; but after the greatest violence he may bring the passion to some moderation...never place two Extremes together, because that would be too harsh. One must not likewise in the passions of the Stage fall from one extremity to another; nor of a sudden calm into some great agitation, without some precedent reason to arrive at Tranquility...
To all this may be objected, that a pathetick discourse thus managed and governed by rules cannot fail appearing affected, and shew the very art it is made by not
53
representing naturally by consequent the state of the humane mind, which acts according to its Idea's and motives without any rule but confusion and disorder. To Answer this we must say, that this disorder in the words of a man is a fault which weakens even the impression which else his passion would make, and therefore ought to be reform'd upon the Stage, which suffers nothing imperfect *'
From these extensive quotes, it is clear that the basic underlying
principles of the performance of the passions (and also for the writing
of the passions in the verse) were not only relatively broad but also
conformed to the concepts of naturalness and appropriateness. To move
an audience, the passions had to correspond to natural human reactions
and also had to be appropriate to the situation and to the audience's
expectations. Representations that did not meet these two standards
either moved the audience to the wrong passions or did not move the
audience at all.
Before concluding his discussion on the representation of the
passions, Aubignac briefly presents the idea of the use of figures to
create and enhance the passions. Figures, the author explains, are
literary devices. The particular figures that Aubignac is interested
in, however, are not the basic literary figures described in every
treatise on poetry. The author states that these can destroy passion
through affectation and scholarly style. The figures that enhance and
move the passions are those that describe the passions themselves and
the thoughts, feelings, and physicalities that accompany them and aid in
the delivery of emotion.
All those ingenious Varieties of Speech which the Learned have invented, whereby to express their thoughts in a nobler way than the vulgar, and which are call'd Figures of Rhetorick, are without a doubt the most notable ornaments of Discourse; for by them every thing appears to a greater advantage; 'Tis they that give the grace to Narrations, probability to all other reasonings, and strength to the passions, and without them all our Discourses are low, mean, and popular, disagreeable, and without effect. Therefore the best Advice one can give to a Poet, is, that he should be perfect in the knowledg of the Figures, by studying carefully what the Professors of Rhetorick have writ on that Subject, and which we shall not here repeat: Yet let him remember, that 'tis not enough to read and know their names and distinctions, but let him diligently examine their Energy, and what Effect they are like to produce on the Stage. If it be necessary that an Actor should leave the Stage in a great rage, then he must be mov'd by degrees.
' Frangois Hedelin, abbS d'Aubignac, The Whole Art of the Stage, Microfilm, Early English Books, 1641-1700, reel #9 (London: 1684, Microfilm, Ann Arbor; University Microfilms, n.d.), Bk. 3, pp. 40-41, 42-43, 44-47, 48, 49.
54
beginning by the softer Figures, and at last be raised to the highest Transports a Soul is capable of...^°
Such figures of which Aubignac writes are contained in the two
excerpts from Dryden's All for Love quoted above. In the first, the
progression in intensity of Mark Antony's melancholy is relatively
clear. As the images used by the character increase in intensity, so
increases the character's passion. In the second Dryden excerpt, the
figures used are not images of thoughts or physicalizations but are
direct statements of the passions themselves. As these two passages are
connected with only a very few additional lines not quoted, another
progression in intensity is clearly visible. The dynamics of Mark
Antony's melancholy are not as great as the dynamics of his anger. Both
the stichomythia and the direct statements of the passions indicate this
increase.
Given a good play, where the passions were written carefully, it
became the actor's job to spot these representations, to analyze them,
and to build his own passions to correspond with them. From Aubignac's
statements, it would be logical to assert that the best theatrical
productions would be those where both playwright and the actor thorough
ly understand and represent all of the passions of the play.
Before discussing the remaining five primary source treatises, it
is necessary to briefly discuss Dene Bamett's The Art of Gesture; The
Practices and Principles of 18th Century Acting (1987), a major
scholarly effort to organize specific gestures of the stage (many of
which are gestures of the passions). Much of the primary source
material for this book is from Germany and The Netherlands, and some of
it is from the first half of the 19th century. Both of these facts
suggest that the representation of emotion through stylized
physicalization was international in scope and persisted far longer than
the period indicated by the title of the book.
The international understanding of the passions and the inter
national similarities of their representations are certainly clear and
indisputable. The implication that these representations meant the same
thing in the 19th century as they did in the 18th century, however, is
not either clear or indisputable. While the outward physicalization of
emotion continued in a recognizable evolution from the 18th century, the
meanings of those physicalizations changed in the 19th century. The
underpinnings of the physicalizations of the 18th century were the
5°ibid., pp. 50-51.
55
concepts of the Doctrine of the Affections. As the Doctrine weakened in use and belief, the new underpinnings that replaced it were the beginnings of modern psychological theory. This development is not addressed by Barnett.
During the 17th and 18th centuries, when the passions were
believed to be identical in all men, the representation of all
physicalizations onstage were necessarily similar. With Romanticism,
however, the emphasis placed on emotion was dramatically shifted from
its commonality to its individuality. As this shift occurred, the word
"passion" was replaced by the word "emotion," and the word "passion"
shifted in meaning.^'
The relationship between beauty and the physicalizations of
emotion in the 17th and 18th centuries and in the 19th century is also a
concern not addressed in Dene Barnett's book. In the 17th century and
the first half of the 18th century, beauty in the arts was considered to
be in part the direct result of the harmony that was created from the
correct and natural interaction of all the elements of the work. A
major element was, of course, the passions. By the end of the 18th
century, partly as a result of Romanticism, this relationship began to
change. Beauty began to be considered as an element in and of itself,
rather than the result of the natural combination of elements. Physical
postures and gestures began to be appreciated for their esthetic
qualities, rather than for their relationship with naturalness. Reason,
which controlled the representation of emotion during the 17th and early
18th centuries, by the 19th century was now separated from any represen
tation of emotion, and to an extent, from emotion itself. Rather than
being viewed in a hierarchical relationship, reason and emotion began to
be seen as equals in the struggle for control of the mind.
There is one additional objection to the linking of the meanings
of 18th century gestures with those of the 19th century. As stage
'The shift to the more modern meaning is evident in the writing of William Hazlitt. The following is from his essay on the retirement of actor John Philip Kemble in 1817: "It has always appeared to us that the range of characters in which Mr. Kemble more particularly shown, and was superior to every other actor, were those which consisted in the development of some one solitary sentiment or exclusive passion...nor did he possess the faculty of overpowering the mind by sudden and irresistible bursts of passions " In this quote, the first "passion" is used to mean a movement of the soul. The second "passion" means an intense emotion. Though this latter definition was not alien to the 17th and 18th centuries, it was used infrec[uently. By the 19th century, the frequency of this second use of the word increased, and the first use of the word decreased to the point of obsolescence.
56
gestures and postures shifted in meaning, they became abstract body
movements, appreciated for their beauty more than for their emotional
meaning. Many gestures and postures could then be used to underscore
many different kinds of emotion. The importance of the stage gesture
became its dynamics and its physical direction and configuration and nat.
its likeness to nature.
To use 19th century sources to document 18th century stage
movement without the acknowledgement of these basic understandj-ngs is to
misrepresent the movements. The Art of the Gesture does, however,
categorize stage movement on the basis of emotional meaning, and this in
itself is a significant addition to modern scholarship. (For the
purposes of practicality, this paper will not restate the information
found in this book. The relationship between specific gestures and
specific passions has been very carefully documented. Additional
relationships between gesture and rhetoric, figures of speech, abstract
ideas such as beauty and nature, the other arts, and a miscellany of
other subjects are also explained and documented. Any attempt here ta
discuss any of this information in any detail would be essentially a
paraphrase of the book.)
The theater treatises of the 18th century that have been avails; le
for this study give the decided impression that the general categories
of gesture and posture that represented the passions on the 17th century-
stage became more specific in the 18th century. Interpretation of the
passions present in plays became more absolute and unyielding and the
specific physical representations became more codified and dictated in
performance.
A History of the English Stage (1741) is a loose compendium of
biographical sketches of 17th and early 18th century actors and
actresses. These sketches are interspersed with short comments and
explanations concerning the esthetics and the general nature of the
theater and acting. The author is listed on the title page as Thomas
Betterton, the very famous Restoration actor known for his truthful and
dynamic performances. There is no evidence, however, that this work is
Betterton's. Published 31 years after his death, it is probable rha-
the compiler and editor, Edward Currl, wrote most of in or edited the
works of anonymous writers.
Regardless of its authorship, this work provides very descriptive
accounts and discussions of the theatrical work of a great many
performers and provides information on the representation of the
passions in performance.
57
For to express Nature in all its Appearances, which can only be drawn from Observation, which will tell us, that the Passions and Habits of the Mind discover themselves in our Looks, Actions and Gestures-
Thus we find a rolling Eye, which is quick and constant in its Motion, argues a quick but light Wit; a hot and choleric Complexion, with an inconstant and impatient Mind; and in a Woman it gives a strong Proof of Wantonness and Immodesty. Heavy dull Eyes, a dull Mind, and a Difficulty of Conception. For this Reason we observe, that all or most People in Years, sick Men, and persons of a flegmatic Constitution are slow in turning of the Eyes.
...Thus the Voice, when loud, discovers Wrath and Indignation of the Mind, and a small trembling Voice proceeds from Fear.
In a like manner, to use no Actions or Gestures in Discourse is a sign of a heavy and slow Disposition, as too much Gesticulation proceeds from Lightness...
Some cast their Heads from one side to the other wantonly and lightly, the true Effect of Folly and Inconstancy...
In this manner we might examine all the natural Actions, which are to be found in Men of different Tempers. Yet not to dismiss the Point without a fuller Reflection, we shall here give the Signification of the Natural Gestures from a Manuscript of a learned Jesuit who wrote on this Subject.
Every Passion or Emotion of the Mind, says he, has from Nature its peculiar and proper Countenance, Sound, and Gesture: and the whole Body of Man, all his Looks, and every Tone of his Voice, like Strings on an Instrument, receive their Sounds from the various Impulses of the Passions.^^
The author's description of gestures and movements of different
body parts and their relation to the passions continues for many pages,
covering specific face, hand, head, arm, and leg movements, and
reiterating the basic principles of the study of natural gesture for
knowledge and understanding.
Two short discussions of acting. An Essay on Acting (1744),
attributed to David Garrick, famous actor, theater manager, and
playwright,^^ and A Treatise on the Passions, So far as thev regard the
stage (1747), by Seunuel Foote, actor, theater manager, and playwright,
reflect the apparent simplification and solidification of the physical
^-Thomas Betterton, The History of the English Stage, Microfisch, The Library of English Literature (London, 1741, Microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), pp. 62-64.
•'in the very thorough biography of David Garrick by George Winchester Stone, Jr. and George M. Kahrl, there is no mention that there is any doubt that this pamphlet is not by Garrick. The authors feel that Garrick wrote this discussion on acting to forestall or eliminate any criticism of his own acting by others by criticizing and poking fun at himself.
58
manifestations of the passions performed on stage. Both works, which
might more accurately be called pamphlets, make their points more
through the criticism and praise of specific actors than through more
objective means. The former superficially analyzes and then praises and
criticizes the acting methods of David Garrick. The latter also super
ficially analyzes the methods of David Garrick and others and then
condemns most of them (especially Garrick's).
Much of the damnation and/or praise of performances and performers
in the 18th century was based upon preconceived ideas concerning any
specific part in a play—how it should be played and who should play it.
As is the case today, theatrical criticism did not make too concerted an
effort to be "objective" or to try to understand the point of view of
the performer. During the mid 18th century, much of the criticism
centered around the concern that the passions be represented correctly.
Superficial representations and excessive representations were
condemned. Perhaps most violently objected to was the use of a parti
cular passion where it did not belong, and, conversely, the absence of a
passion where it should be present.
Both pamphlets contain some observations worth noting. An Essay
on Acting begins with a definition.
Acting is an Entertainment of the Stage, which by calling in the Aid and Assistance of Articulation, Corporeal Motion, and Occular Expression, imitates, assumes, or puts on the various mental and bodily Emotions arising from the various Humours, Virtues and Vices, incident to human Nature.
There are Two different Kinds of Exhibitions, viz. TRAGEDY and COMEDY; the first fixes her Empire on the Passions, and the more exalted Contradictions and Dilations of the heart; the last, tho' not inferior (guotidem Science) holds her Rule over the less enobled Qualities and Districts of human Nature, which are call'd the Humours.^^
From the above quote, it is apparent that acting the passions was
a primary aspect of all theatrical acting. (The author suggests a
difference between comedic and tragic portrayals, though his distinction
is not clear.) This same premise forms the basis for Foote's commen
tary: to act onstage is to act the passions of the play. To this end,
Foote discourses long on the passions of Shakespeare, particularly King
Lear and Othello, alternately criticizing and praising Garrick's
performance.
'* David Garrick, An Essay on Acting, Microfilm, The Eighteenth Century, reel #2469 (London, 1744, Microfilm, Woodbridge, CT: Research Publications, Inc., n.d.), p. 5.
59
Mr. G's whole Behavior during the first Act...is natural and masterly, the choleric Man happily marked in the Scenes with Cordelia. Kent, and at the Discovery of his eldest Daughter's Ingratitude; and indeed, wherever quick Rage is to be express'd, no Actor does the Poet so much Justice, nor is he less successful in tincturing all the Passions, with a certain Feebleness suitable to the Age of the King, the Design of the Author, and the raising of the minds of the Audience a stronger Feeling, and Compassion for Lear'8 Sufferings. And tho' in the general Conduct of the mad scenes, Mr. G. is, in my Opinion, faulty; yet in many . particular Instances, his Judgment and Execution demands the highest Applause.^^
In the same vein, the author of An Essay on Acting discusses the
passions in Macbeth.
The first Words of the Part, - So foul and fair a Day I have not seen, in my Opinion are spoke wrong; Mackbeth before his Entrance has been in a great Storm of Rain, Thunder, &c. Now as the Audience have been apriz'd of this, by the three Witches, he should very emphatically describe the quick Transformation from being wet to the Skin, to being almost instantaneously dry'd again; Tho' I can't convey in Writing the Manner how it should be spoke, yet every Reader may comprehend how it ought to be spoke, and know that in the Manner it is now Spoke, the Sentiment is languid, unintelligible, and undescriptive.
In 1753, three years after the author's death, Aaron Hill's Essay
on the Art of Acting was first .published. Written about four years
before hia death. Hill's Essay contains one of the most concise 18th
century English discussions on acting in general and on acting the
passions specifically.
To act a passion, well, the actor never must attempt its imitation, 'till his fancy conceived so strong an image, or idea, of it, as to move the same impressive springs within hia mind, which fprm that passion, when 'tis undesigned and natural.^
With this statement as the core of his acting theory. Hill, a
theater manager, a critic, a playwright, and a poet, presents his
opinions in a step-wise, lecture-type format. Expanding on his initial
premise. Hill outlines a basic two-step process for the actor.
^^Samuel Foote, A Treatise on the Passions so far as thev regard the stage (London, 1747, reprint. New York: AMS Press, 1976), pp. 22-23,
^^Garrick, p. 16.
^^Aaron Hill, An Essay on the Art of Acting, in The Works of the Late Aaron Hill, Esq., Microfisch, Library of English Literature (London, 1753, Microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), p. 355.
60
First, the actor is to "conceive a strong idea of the passion."
This phrase might seem somewhat strange to the modern reader, for today,
emotions are "felt" and not "conceived." To describe something that
comes to the mind and body through feeling as a thought seema curiously
poetic. Yet, Hill's choice of words is very precise and not at all
poetic. As an aspect of reason, conception and reflection belonged to
the highest aspect of the soul. It was a perfectly natural assumption
that a feeling could be known through thought.
Second, the actor is to allow his body to feel and respond to the
passion naturally, without tenaion or reaiatance of any kind. When the
actor'a body feels the passion in this way, gesture and voice will auto
matically reflect the passion correctly.
Hill states that, for the actor to believe that he is the actual
character in all respects, is one acceptable procedure and will lead to
the accurate portrayal of the passions. If, however. Hill asserts, the
actor will "possess" an "idea" or "conception" of a particular passion,
he will automatically feel it in hia body. If, while still possessing
the idea of a particular passion, the actor goes to a mirror, he will
see how the passion has been manifested in his body and has changed his
body from its previous state. If then, while still in front of the
mirror, the actor speaks and gestures, he will hear and see the results
of the passion in his voice and in his movements. Through practice, the
response of the body can be refined and can eventually be called on at
will. For Hill, this procedure is the simplest and the easiest method
for acting the passions.
Hill condenses all the passions into 10 that are to be used
onstage: joy, grief, fear, anger, pity, scorn, hatred, jealousy,
wonder, and love. The author then defines and explains each. Verse
excerpts from verse plays (usually tragedies) are given as examples of
how the particular passion under discussion is represented in the words
of the play and are given as material to be used by the actor for study
and rehearsal of his performance of that passion.
The definition of each passion is expressed in a poetic formula,
one definition for each passion: "Joy is Pride, possesaed of Triumph;"
"Grief ia Diaappointment, void of Hope;" "Fear ia Grief, discerning and
avoiding Danger," etc. Each of these definitions ia then refined with a
general discussion of the passion and the body. Joy, for example, "is a
warm and conscioua expanaion of the heart, indulging in a aenae of
61
present pleasure and comparing it with past affection: It cannot,
therefore, be expressed without vivacity, in look, air, and accent."^^
Despite Hill's discussion of an acting technique that implies that
the truth of the paaaiona ia to be found in the individual experience of
each actor, hia analysis of the play according to its component passions
and his opinions concerning the correct portrayal of each paasion often
seem arbitrary. Directions to the actor, because they are so specific,
leave no latitude for differing views and interpretations. The impli
cation is that only one interpretation of a passage is correct and
acceptable, and only one interpretation of the physicalization of a
paaaion is likewise correct and acceptable.
The following statement ia from Hill's discussion of hatred.
To express it rightly, it demands a look of malice, with a gesture of restrained impatience...Unless and actor has accustomed his reflection to examine distinctions in passion, he will be surprised, to be told, in this place, that there is no other difference but the turn of an eye, in the expression of hatred and pity. Yet, his experience will find it a palpable truth. - For, first, pity, and hatred, require both of them, the same intense brace upon the joints, and the sinews; and then, the characterizing distinction between them is this: (I mean, but what regards their expression that is, the outward makes they impress on the body) - Pity, by a look of inclination, implies affection, and desire to relieve; whereas Hatred, by averting the visage, and accompanying that look of abhorance, with gestures of malice and disapprobation, proclaims animosity, and purpose of mischief. - The nerves must be brac'd in both passions alike - because Pity is earnest - and Hatred is earnest; and therefore, the musclea, to express either paaaion, (however opposite they seem to each other) must be springy, and bent into promptitude.^'
From this excerpt, it is clear that the author believes that the
individual's experience of the passions proves the commonality of the
experience. It is also clear that there ia a distinction made between
the internal bodily feeling of the passions and their external mani
festation. Although Hill advocates knowing a passion through the
process of allowing the conception of the passion to bring forth the
passion and manipulate the body, he also makes a separation between the
nature of the passion and its physicalization, most obvious in this part
of the excerpt: "and then, the characterizing distinction between them
ia thia: (I mean, but what regards their expression - that is, the
outward makes they impress on the body)." Pity and hatred are both
^*ibid., pp. 357-358.
^'ibid., pp. 378-379.
62
different passions; yet their physical representation onstage is virtually the same.
The simplification and solidification of the representation of the
physical manifestations of the passions would seem to be a development
of the 18th century. Although certain passions were considered similar
to each other and were categorized according to theae similarities, the
17th century theorists viewed each passion as a separate and recogniz
able movement of the soul with physical manifestationa typical of each
specific passion. The tendency to standardize and simplify the physical
manifeatations onstage seems to be an 18th century practice.
Perhaps the clearest and most articulate 18th century discussions
of the passions and theater are found in Thomas Wilkes's A General View
of the Stage of 1759. It is a relatively long treatise that covers many
aspects of the theater. The author's general high regard for the power
of the passions onstage is very evident in this following excerpt.
The ingenious David Hume of Edinburgh has published an essay, which he calls A Dissertation upon the subject of which we now treat; but, instead of pursuing the point, and communicating to us the pleasure and instruction which we might reasonable hope for, he presents us with an enquiry very apt here, viz. "into the cause of that unaccountable pleasure which the spectators of a well-wrote Tragedy receive from sorrow, terror, anxiety, and other passions which are in themselves disagreeable and uneasy." In this dissertation he follows the opinion of Fontenelle, who, in his Reflections sur la poetigue. observes, that in regard to Tragedy, whatever dominion the sense may usurp over reason, there still lurks at the bottom a certain idea of falsehood in the whole of what we see. This idea, tho' weak and disguised, suffices to diminish the pain we suffer from the misfortunes of those whom we love; to bring that affliction to such a pitch as reduces it to a pleasure. We weep for the misfortunes of a great man, to whom we are, no matter from what principle, attached in the same instant we comfort ourselves with reflecting, that it is nothing but a fiction; and it is precisely that mixture of sentiments which compoaea an agreeable sorrow, and suppliea the tears that delight us.^°
Catharsis had never been satisfactorily explained in the 17th
century. Discussions of it usually paraphrased Aristotle's Poetics in
one way or another; but the actual mechanics of its process was obscure.
This passage suggests some of the beginning points of the breakdown in
the hierarchy of reason over emotion. Wilkes suggests that at the
moment of catharsis, reason and emotion act in tandem with one another.
^°Thomas Wilkes, A General View of the Stage. Microfisch, Library of English Literature (London, 1759, microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), pp. 34-35.
63
Comedy, also, receivea a new aasessment.
Comedy is an image of common life: its intention is to reform the public follies or to correct the public taste, by throwing the vitiated or absurd manners of individuals into light or ridicule and entertainment
Comedy and Tragedy, each of them, properly considered, lead to the same useful end, that of instruction, by different vehicles: one addresses the affections, rouses the passions, and speaks to the heart with solemn and serious lesaona; its aspect is severe, its reproof tries ua to the quick, and often "most horribly (to uae a phraae of Shakeapeare'a) ahakea our disposition:" the other approaches with an easy familiarity, sits down with us, and, putting on our very character, shews our follies or mistakes with such humour and ridicule, that we often acknowledge the reprimand, and are corrected: like the jesters of old, it laughs us into regularity."'
Wilkes's view of comedy is rather different from the views of the
17th century. Comedy is no longer seen as an inferior form of drama.
Wilkea'a opinion placea it in equal conaideration with that of tragedy.
Furthermore, there is no longer the concern that comedy agitates the
passions.
Further into the treatise, as Wilkes writes of the necessity for
the actor to possess natural and appropriate qualities (particularly in
his voice), there ia aome diacussion of the difference in the passions
of comedy and those in tragedy as reflected in the actor's voice.
Tragedy and comedy aeem to require quite different tones for proper execution; sorrow, grief, pain, Sc. require a voice slow, solemn and affecting, like the melancholy plaintive notes of Adagio; Joy and Pleaaure, which are the proper appendages and marks of Comedy, will naturally form the voice into Spirituoso, or chearful vivacity of Music; Love in general requires a soft, alluring, and melodious voice; the mellow warblings of a German flute have a finer effect in moving the tender passions, than the rougher tones of a bassoon; and certainly an Actor, with an articulate melodious voice has all the roughness of a base-viol.
Hatred, rage, and contempt, may be compared to the sharps of Music, as joy, triumph, and exultation, are best expressed by the martial aounds of a trumpet...
The voice of Joy should be full, pleasant and flowing; of Love, gay, soft, or alluring; of Anger, or Hatred, vehement, sharp, and severe, intermixed with frequent respirations; insinuations, confessions, and acknowledgement, gentle and temperate; in persuasion, admiration, promise or consultation, grave and majestic; in fear, bashfulness, and modesty, abject, meek, and contracted, tremulous and hesitating; in pity and compasaion, it haa a soothing and melancholy plaintiveness; grief and trouble rec[uire a sad, dull, and languishing voice, grave and opprest, interrupted with heavy aigha and flowing teara; in
^'ibid., pp. 37, 46-47.
64
confidence, it is loud and atrong, supported with a decent boldness and daring constancy."•^
This excerpt suggests that the differences between comedy and
tragedy are differences in the predominance of passions associated with
certain qualities. Cheerfulness and vivacity, along with the metaphor
of the flute, suggest the qualities of comedy. Slowness, heaviness, and
the rough sounds of the bassoon and bass viol characterize the quality
of tragedy.
Of equal significance with the diacussion of the distinction
between the qualities of tragedy and comedy in Wilkes's treatise is the
discussion of the relationship between the paaaion being represented and
the actor's voice. Although in other treatises available for this
study, the correspondence between the paasions and the voice has been
hinted at and alluded to, this passage is the first to elaborate on the
relationship.
In the middle of a discussion on the general qualities of certain
passions, Wilkes again raises the issue of the distinction between the
passions in comedy and those in tragedy.
Again, let it be observed, that, though all these passions, under different appearance, being alike to tragic and comic characters; yet in Tragedy they are more strongly and distinctly marked than in Comedy. The dignity of tragic characters requires more weight... The scenes of Comedy, being only copies from that sort of life wherein we are all acquainted, require the same variety of paaaions, but in different or inferior degrees, their exertion is never so strong, nor do the occasions require it; but their transitions are endless; and 'tis thia variety which constitutes the excellency of the comic Player as well as the Poet...To give these Passions and their transitions their proper force, but distinction, and to take an agreeable and close likeness of those light-flying touches of Nature, will be the strongest and most striking picturea an Actor can exhibit in a comic way.°^
The implication from thia paasage is that the changes in the
passions in comedy come more quickly than they do in tragedy. Rather
than the gradual shifts from one passion to another that are a mark of
tragedy, comic passions shift with distinct beginninga and diatinct end
pointa, and the shifts come more often. One additional distinction
deals with the overall energy of the passions. In comedy, the passions
are never as intense as in tragedy.
^^ibid., pp. 111-113,
^^ibid., pp. 136-137,
65
Wilkes diacuases the paasions and their physicalizations in a
manner that is clearer than Hill's and is equally as specific.
The apprehension of approaching evil, or of being deprived of our happiness in any shape, creates fear; its symptoms are a pale countenance, a troubled eye, a depression of the spirits approaching to fainting: when it rises to terror or horror, a tremor and universal agony follow; the speech is broken and confused
Disappointment is expressed by desponding down-cast looks, gloomy eye, and the hand striking the breast-
Anger runa through the mind like a devouring flame; it choaks the voice, gives a savage wildness to the eye; the eye-brow in this disposition is let down, it is contracted, and pursed into frowns. This passion will sometimes excite a trembling in the whole frame; and when it swells into an extreme rage, all these motions will be yet more violent-"^
Conclusion
None of the treatises that have been available for thia study
discuss exactly how these movements functioned with the text of the play
and in the hands of the actors- Issues, such as the fluidity of
physical movement and emotion, the amount of body movement and gesture
unrelated to the paasions, the relative speed with which different
movements that represented the same passions changed, are all left
unanswered-
Dene Barnett diacuaaes the fluidity of rather quick gestures and
movements, the implication being that smooth changes in gesture with
relatively short amounts of time in between were the rule- Dene
Barnett, however, bases much of this assumption on Gilbert Austin's
Chironomia of 1806. Because the book is out of period, it may well
reflect the style of the last decade or ao of the 18th century rather
than the style of the century as a whole (a premise which Austin never
claims). In addition, Austin's emphasis is rhetoric; and, although the
theater borrowed heavily from the rhetorical tradition, it is not at all
clear to what extent this borrowing took place.
In all likelihood, the fluidity of the physicalization of the
passions onstage depended largely on the skill and experience of the
actor. As actors were trained through the apprenticeship system, the
techniques of the more unakilled or uninspired actors were passed on to
the next generation. Acting was a very individual process. There was
little attention given to enaemble performance- Out-of-work actora
traveled to the provincea where the audience demanda were quite
'*ibid-, pp. 125, 132.
66
different from thoae in London. All of theae factora would auggeat that
the performances of the 17th and 18th centuries were uneven in quality
and, to a certain extent, uneven in style.
(One aspect to this uneveneaa which is seldom considered ia that
of the regional accents and the costumes of the actors. There was no
standard pronunciation during these centuries; many actors would have
had strong regional accents. No attempt would have been made toward
standard speech until the mid 18th century at the very earliest.
Costume differences, as well, would have added a very discernible lack
of consistency to many productions. Some costumes were owned by
individual actors, some by the theater houses. New costumes were not
built for each new play. Rather, one costume was used for particular
stock characters regardleaa of the play. Thomaa Wilkes, in his book,
decries the lack of consistency in the costuming of historical plays.)
Today, the actor, in his training, distinguishes between an action
(any physicalization) played without emotion and one played with
emotion. It is unlikely that this distinction existed in the theater of
the 17th and 18th centuries- There is extremely little evidence that
stylized stage gestures or movements existed that were not represen
tations of the passions. All of the commentaries on theater of the time
atate in varying ways that to act onstage is to act the paaaiona. Thia
equation permeates all 17th and 18th century discussions.
How far back in time the representation of the passions onstage
existed is unknown. It would be logical to assume that plays and their
performances incorporated the passions in some way since the formulation
of the concept in the late Middle Ages. The morality and passion plays
of this time dealt in black and white fashion with emotion and character
motivation, and it is reasonable to asaume that there waa some kind of
stylized representation of the emotional aspects of character-
The building of permanent theaters is always a major step toward
the standardization of performance- The first structures in England
built for the express purpose of the performance of plays were
constructed during Elizabeth Tudor's reign. By 1600, the Doctrine of
the Affections was a relatively well accepted concept and was being
explained and explored in treatises. Treatises that contained
discussions on the representation of the paasions were already in print
in music, art, and poetry. As playwriting was considered an aspect of
poetry, theater can be included in this list.
The repreaentation of the passions in theater occurred in both the
compositional and performance areas. As is clear in the treatises, the
67
origin of both aspects of the representation of the passions came in
part from what was believed to be ancient Greek and Roman traditions.
The Renaissance adaptations of these traditions formed the baaia for the
elaboration of the 17th and 18th centuries.
As the awareneaa and interests of society and individuals began to
change in the mid 18th century, this theatrical tradition began to
change as well. Initially, the alterations seem to have been consoli
dations made primarily in performance. The physicalizations of the
passions grew more standardized, and performers were judged accordingly.
By the end of the 18th century, social and intellectual awareneaa
ahifted to emphasize the individual's importance. Emotion began to be
regarded as an individual experience, and the Doctrine of the Affections
quickly disintegrated.
The outward stylistic forms that the representations took were
perpetuated through the 19th and early 20th centuries. The original
meanings of these forms, however, were altered unrecognizably. The
verse plays of the English Romanticists dealt with the intensity of the
experience of personal emotion. Although the literary devices used
remained essentially the same, the idea of the common experience of
emotion as understood in the preceding century disappeared.
In the same way, the physical manifestation of emotion remained
relatively the same onstage. The dynamica of expreasion, the outward
forma of gesture and movement, and what is today called the "presenta
tional" manner of acting continued in the same vein. It was the meaning
of the emotion itself that changed.
According to the Doctrine of the Affections and the treatises on
acting, the manifestations of the passions are different for different
people only because of the mechanical workings of the spirits and
humors; the passions themselves, however, remain the same. By the turn
of the 19th century, characters in tragedies were isolated precisely
because of their emotions. Tragedies often ended, not with catharsis
and resolution, but with emotional turmoil and isolation. The com
monality of emotion, which tied together audience member to audience
member to actor to play, shifted to the individuality of emotion and
isolated audience members from each other and made the theater
experience more individually personal. Dryden and Wilkes's explanation
of catharsis no longer had relevance. In tragedies, the identification
with the emotions of the characters remained, but the universality of
emotion and the victory over it did not. Any victory over emotion
became peraonal and unable to be ahared, and identification with the
68
emotions of the characters did not expand to identification with the
human condition (except perhaps intellectually).
This change in the perception of emotion is one of the major
problems today's theater has in the performance of thoae plays from the
17th and 18th centuries. These plays were specifically constructed to
emphasize the universality of emotion and the supremacy of reason over
emotion. The objectives were to teach and to delight. These aspects of
the theater of three centuries ago are very alien to the modern mind.
The entire Doctrine, from its mechanical workings to its metaphysical
concepts, is alien. The concept of the supremacy of reason is alien.
The representation of emotion as the compositional foundation of a play
is not taught in any playwriting class today. Certainly not taught or
practiced today is the acting of a part based upon specific, consciously
designed physicalizations of emotion.
Perhaps the most important unrecognized convention upon which
Baroque plays were built is that of the mapping out of each emotion for
each character by the playwright and the following of that map by the
actor. Every change of intensity, as well as change of emotion, waa
written into a play and waa designed and expected to be followed by the
actor. From both the compositional and the performance standpoints
today, this practice is violently rejected.
If, however, the original designs and directions of the 17th and
18th century theater were followed again, perhaps Shakespeare and Dryden
and Congreve and Sheridan might find a relevance to the lives of modern
audience members. There is no reason to reject automatically any true
and accurate reconstruction of performance. Upon information and
belief, accurate reconstruction has never been attempted. Despite all
the demonstrationa of the differences between the theater esthetic of
300 years ago and now, it is possible that today's performance esthetic
is not quite as different from that of three centuries ago as it might
at first seem. Although today's practitionera and critics deny the
value of and even the existence of any stereotyped writing and
performance of emotion, does it exist today anyway, and if it does, does
it exist for a reason?
In any case, the plays of the 17th and 18th centuries were
composed around the representation of the passions, and the performances
of thoae plays were designed and executed to parallel the written
passions. It is the hope of this writer that this paper will spark
continued research on the paasions and affections in theater, for the
69
work here barely begins that work that is necessary to uncover the full
truth of the theater of this period.
70
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77
APPENDIX
The following picture and accompanying poem are from Geffrey
Whitney's A Choice of Emblems (1586),^^ The book is a collection of
pictorial and poetic representations of passions, concepts, historical
and mythological people and events, and morals.
The title of this particular "emblem" is "Temeritas" (or
"Temerity"). Both the poem and the picture metaphorically depict the
passions out of control. The picture is of a chariot driver unable to
control the two horses that pull his vehicle. The horaea, man, and
chariot look to be moving too fast over uneven, rocky ground. The sky
ia dark and cloudy.
The first stanza of the poem describes the situation in the
picture. The second stanza explains that the emblem is a metaphor. The
man represents reason which is no longer able to control the horses,
which represent the passions. The situation is dangerous to the man and
his horses and vehicle.
This depiction is undoubtedly drawn from Socrates's parable in
Plato's dialogue Phaedrus.
^^Geffrey Whitney, A choice of Emblemes and other Devises (Leyden, 1586, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1969), p. 6.
78
Temmtas,
•"m^mm
£: ' ^ y ^
'lite ^ I
PXAA!)
T H E waggoner, bchouldc, is hcdlongc throwcn, Aiidallm v.iinc doth take the raine in handc.
If he be dwrawenby horfcs fierce vnknowen, Whufe ibniacks ftov.te, no taming vndcrftandc,
They praunce, and ycrke,and out of order flingc. Till ail they brcakc, and vnto luuockcbringc.
That man, whoc hath affections fowlc vntanidc. And forwardc runncs ncglcding reafons race, Dcfcrucs by right, of alinientobceblanide, Aiid hcadionge falles at lengthc to his deface.
Then bridle will, and rcafon make thy guide. So niaille tliow ilandc, when others dounc doc Hide.
79
The next four illustrations are from Chirologia...Chironomia by
John Bulwer (1644).^ The first three of these are charts containing
some hand positions and gestures used to support the meaning of a
speaker. These do not specifically belong to rhetoric or to the stage
but are used commonly in general situations. The fourth chart is of
hand positions that are specifically rhetorical.
The English translation of the Latin titlea of each hand position
are in order as follows: for the first chart: I entreat, I pray, I
weep, I admire, I applaud, I am indignant, I explode (in anger), I
despair, I indulge in ease, I show mental anguish, I display innocence,
I applaud the taking of money, I resign my liberty, I protect, I
triumph, I demand silence, I swear, with aaaeveration I call God to
witness, I permit, I reject, I invite, I dismiss, I threaten, and I beg.
The translation of the second chart is in order as follows: I
reward, I bring aid, I am angry, I show I do not have, I chastise, I
fight, I confide in, I impede, I recommend, I lead about in an official
capacity, I betray impatience, I compel by repeated requests, I am
ashcimed, I adore, I affirm (my) conscience, I display contrition, I fear
with indignation, I pledge my faith, I reconcile, I note suspicion and
hate, I honor, I greet one with reservation, I show thievery, I bless.
The third chart contains gestures of the fingers. The translation
is in order aa followa: I work in discovery, I weep, I approve, I
extol, I show both sides (of an issue), I point, I inflect terror, I
show silence, I reprove, I summon, I disapprove, I show hesitancy, I
betray weakness, I provoke (an argument), I condemn, I impose irony, I
provoke in a contemptuous fashion, I betray avarice, I resent a slight
offense, I betray a mild anger, I make the sign of folly, I accuse of
improbability, I give sparingly, I count.
These translations are found in the 1974 reprint edition of
Bulwer's work and are by the editor, James W. Cleary. No translation is
given for the Latin of the last chart. The gestures depicted there are
specifically from the rhetorical tradition.
^John Bulwer, Chirologia...Chironomia. ed- James W. Cleary (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1974), pp. 115, 117, 143, 193.
80
A Corollary of ihc Speaking Motions
• A JtLppUeo . fi Or4. C Flora . D yidmiror.
81
A Corollary of the Speaking Motions
V>u'ficitheA 0Jul \ noto. !!
82
A Corollary of ilic Discomsing Ccsiure
T h e Canons of Rhetoric ians
\K^m^fr^crt-
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• - ^ ^ ^ 4
' & ^ ^ ; ^ - ; ^
^Ixccrattcnc^rrAt. ^yfMLiJt^^ ^^D^LU . ^i^Mcn, Jkmitk.
^ ^ 4 - ^ \A
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m 84
The following three illustrations are from Gilbert Austin's 1806
Chironomia. The first two illustrations demonstrate gestures of the
arms. The third demonstrate gestures of the hands and fingers.
Theae illustrations and the text that accompanies them clearly
indicate the shift in the meaning and in the function of the gesture.
The first page of gestures are of abstract movements. Gilbert
classifies each series of five figures according to the arm positions in
relation to the rest of the body. Each individual gesture, as well as
the movement from one to another, has no intrinsic meaning (not to
mention any relation to emotion), The gestures take their meaning from
the words that they underscore.
The second page of arm movements contains some gestures that have
very general meanings and some that are completely abstract. For
example, the gesture of figure number 93 is called "the sweep." It
"describes a curved movement descending from the opposite ahoulder, and
rising with velocity to the utmost extent of the arm, or the reverse
changing the position of the hand from supine to vertical in the first
case, and from vertical to supine in the latter. The sweep is aometimea
doubled by returning the arm back again through the same arch."°°
Nowhere in the description of this gesture is there any indication
of its meaning or its function. Its abstractness is further punctuated
by a footnote of the author's stating that the gesture was used by
Kemble (presumably John Philip Kemble) when saying the lines from
Hamlet: "The play's the thing/ Will catch the conscience of the king."
The next gesture, figure number 94, is called "striking" and the
one following that is called "recoiling." Although there is no meaning
given when the movement of each gesture is described, the naming of them
with words that imply some psychological connotations may be evidence
that these specific gestures are not toally abstract.
The gestures of the hand, in the third illustration, are described
with the same ambiguity as to meaning as those of the arm.
^^Gilbert Austin, Chironomia, ed. Mary Margaret Robb and Lester Thonssen (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Preaa, 1966), platea 3, 9, 5.
^^ibid., p. 343.
85
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yx//-,-. .w.
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d^ -^
e 88
The following four illustrations are reproductions of pen-and-ink
costume designs by Inigo Jones made for four characters of one of the
last of the Ben Jonson/Inigo Jones mascjues: Chlorida (1631). The
characters are personifications of four passions: jealousy, disdain,
fear, and dissimulation.
From careful study of the body gestures of these four characters,
it is possible to infer some general conclusions about the representa
tion of these passions onstage.
^'Stephen Orgel and Roy Strong, Tniqo .TonPs: ^^-^^^^^^^J^'^^'^^ Stuart court. Vol. 2. (Berkeley; University of California Press, 1973), pp. 437-438.
89
[73 Jealousy
90
174 I^isdain
91
i
• . ' ' . • • •,••-1 • t
. ' , , ^ V X
I7y I'car
92
ij6 Dissiinulatioii
93
The following two illustrations are slightly different paintings
by William Hogarth of the same scene from John Gay's ballad opera. The
Beggar's Opera.'^ These pages have been taken directly from Ronald
Paulson's The Art of Hogarth. The author's captions have been left
because they provide background information and also a short but very
important discussion of the poses of the characters and their meanings.
70Ronald Paulson, TV Q Art of Hogarth (London; Phaidon Press, Ltd., 1975), plates 10, 11.
94
10. The Beggar's Opera. 1728. Oil on canvas, 18 X 21 in. Farmington, Connecticut, 'I'ho Lewis Walpole Library
John Gay's Ihwxtir's OpLTti was first produced in January 1728. llognrth mai.le a pencil sketch on the spot (Royal Library) and in quick succession produced at least live versions, culminating in IMatc 11 (repeated a bit later in the version which is now in the 'fate Gallery). The play offered Hogarth a paradigm that intluenccd his 'modern moral subjects' (as he called them) of the 1730s: a scene involving actors (Lavinia l-'enton, Thomas Walker) playing roles ol'characters (Polly Peachum, Captain Macheath) who themselves are playing socially determined roles (romance heroine, gentleman of the road); and these are being applauded by spectators, here shown on the stage itself, who arc the models for the sort of behaviour they are witnessing, and are themselves involved in
the same sort of subterfuges. In the linal version (I'late I f) I.avinia-l'olly's right arm is turned away from Macheath and her gaze is directed away from her stage lover to her real lover, the Duke of Bolton, the man at the far right who is returning her gaze {in which role?). The relationship between actors and spectators is
underlined by Hogarth's use of colour. The black suit and hat of Peachum are connected by colour, texture, and cut with that of a standing tigure among the audience on the stage (John Rich, the theatre manager, or Gay according to early identifications); the brown suit of Lockit connects him with another man in the audience (Sir Robert 1-agg), and the salmon suit of Macheath with another (Major Paimccford). The moral correspondence between
9F
11. The ncxgor's Opera. 1729. Oil on canvas, 23} X 28J in. Collection of Mr and Mrs Paul Mellon
the two groups is further emphasized by the inscription over the stage, 'Velute in speculum' (even as in a mirror). The scene portrayed. III.11, is in Newgate Prison and shows Macheath in the pose of the (Choice of Hercules ('Which way shall 1 turn me?' he sings, '—How can I decide?') between his two 'wives', I.ucy Lockit and Polly Peachum, who in turn are beseeching their fathers (respectively warden and fence-thief-taker) to save Macheath from the gallows. Mr Peachum and Polly are shown in what would have been reci>gnized by connoisseurs as a Noli me laiigere pose, struck by Peachum, who sees himself in relation to Polly (who, disobedient, has married Macheath) as a Christ in relation to Mary Magdalen, saying, 'Don't touch me, I'm all spirit.'
9 6
The following illustrations are two portraits of David Garrick in
two of his most famous Shakespearean roles: Richard III and Hamlet.
Both of these paintings are of great importance because, as with the
Hogarth paintings of the scene from The Beggar'a Opera, they document
character poature from a specific place in a specific play.
The first portrait is Garrick aa Richard III, Act I, scene 4, at
the moment the character haa awakened from his magical nightmare. The
portrait is again by William Hogarth. "The extended right hand with
five fingers spread as a fending off gesture in the Hogarth painting
comes directly from the acting manuals of the rhetorical tradition,
familiar to actors and audiences alike in the 1730s and 1740s."^^
The second portrait of Garrick ia by Benjamin Wilaon from Hamlet.
Act I, scene 4, where Hamlet first sees his father's ghost. Thomaa
Wilkes, in his 1759 book, A General View of the Stage, wrote the
following about Garrick and this moment: "His manner of receiving his
father's ghost on its first entrance has a fine mixture of astonish-
ment, deference, and resolution."'"
•''George Winchester Stone, Jr., and George H. Kahrl, David Garrick; A Critical Biography (Carbondale, IL; Southern Illinois University Press, 1979), p. 28.
''-Wilkea, p. 250.
97
Walker Callcnj, Liveqyool Garrick a.s Richard ni.
Painting hy William Hogarth, 1745.
98
Fol<l,cr Sluikcspeare JJhrarij Garrick as Ilainlet.
Engraving hy J. McArdcll, 17, 4, I'oni a painting hy IkMijamin Wilson.
99
The following illuatrations are from Charles Le Brun's Methode
pour apprendre S dessiner les passion.
100
^ t/^uJrre.:> I'&nemlixm.
101
102
'l^.X^.
103
104
^1 La?i\ 1L/1<
" I
'fia- 20
105
106
107
P% •" LOUl re
108