A., Albumadi A., Hericos A., Harzeth A., Anticos A., Conofil A., Alhezen A., Mahomaht A., Azaroni A., Tisil A., Hyrechyndo A., Noci A, Alyhar A., Merphil A., Alazimini A., Zoffie A., Azarafat A., Alhazel A., Licha A. The last page is interesting. It contains an explanation of the signs used, and the Colophon "Impresa in la inclita Citta di Venegia per Agostin de Portese, nel anno del Virgineo parte M.D.XXVII, Nel mese di Genaro, ad instantiæ di Jacomo Giunta Mercatata Fiorentino. Con il privilegio di Clementi Papa VII et del Senato Veneto, a requisitione di l'Autore. Come appare nelli suoi registri. Cum gratia et Privilegio." The Register runs A.A. B.B. A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. K. L. M. N. O. P. Q. Tutti sono quaderni excetto A.A. chi e terno et BB. P. et Q. che sono Quinterni.” A final Frame encloses a device and large initials I.A. which I cannot explain any more than I can explain the T.M. of the Frontispiece. 66 It is very probable that all the followers of the Italian Renaissance were acquainted with the book, but there does not seem to have been any English reproduction, or there would surely have been some allusion to it. A mere translation would fail without the illustrations, and the plates would be very expensive to have recut. It is quite possible that Sir Thomas More may have seen Fanti's "Triompho di Fortuna "; that he or some of his friends had meditated a translation, and that for this he wrote the verses which he entitles Preface to the book of Fortune." The more homely English "Booke of Fortune " does not appear to have been illustrated, or some reference would have been made to this, either in the Stationers' Registers or in "Clavel's Catalogue." The lack of illustrations would of itself necessitate a fundamental change in the character of the book, and strict attention to astrological rules would have to be waived. But beyond these distinctions the English book bears some resemblance to the Italian, other than the similar desire of satisfying the hunger of the people for the news of the future. The Italian book required the large Folio size because of its illustrations, the English "Book of Fortune was also Folio (of a smaller size), an unusual size, for works of the kind in this country. The allusions to learned men, philosophers, and scholars, to the "Juries" "as they are called, seem suggested by the Italian model. Fanti had written to a cultured public; the unknown compiler of the English "Book of Fortune " attempted to make his verses intelligible and interesting to the larger, simpler public for which he catered. One does not see how the replies were fitted to the questions in the English book, though that may have been made clear in the missing pages. It is probable that a few simple rules, modified by age, sex, rank of the enquirer, by the throw of dice, might serve sufficiently to find in one of the verses something intelligible and amusing enough to serve as a reply. The taste for Astrology pervaded the century, there are many English translations of books on the subject. There are also many references to people who got into trouble by prying too deeply into such mysteries. To the censors a book of the nature of Fanti's might have seemed too dangerous to pass, but the simpler English book might have slipped through without notice. There are few references to astrology of such nature as continually appear in Fanti. As examples of the measure we may give "Le errante stelle e del quarto il signore Quando finito haura l'ottava sphera Signor d'Artico pol, Virgine poi Se in quest' anno Saturno il fin consente Iisil Astrologo, f. 109b. xvii. There are 73 leaves or 146 pages containing these, 11 to a page; the 12th place being filled by a woodcut. That represents in all 1606 quatrains. (Athenæum, Aug. 25th, 1900, p. 249.) TH XIII. ELIZABETHAN STAGE SCENERY, I. HE stage in Shakespeare's day was not fitted into a recess over which scenes or curtains could be dropped. His actors played on a proscenium, which projected itself into the pit, with uncovered wings. At the back was the player's house, through the doors of which the performers made their entrances and exits, and the upper windows served for balconies, castles, palaces. Above was a projection acting as a partial roof over the stage, technically called "The Heavens." The front of this was generally supported on pillars rising from the stage, which were utilized for various purposes by the actors. Plays were not originally cut up into acts and scenes as they are now; the story, or two sets of stories interwoven, occupied the attention of the audience without intermission, the skill of the dramatist being devoted to the due alternation of secondary incidents (which always advanced the main action), and to the clear illustration of points to which attention ought to be paid or on which imagination should be employed. By the introduction of modern methods of scene-shifting, theatrical managers bring before our notice pretty pictorial effects, sometimes fine ones, but it is at the cost of losing or misunderstanding the significant hints to imagination given in the dialogue, and by the diversion of time intended to have been spent on watching the progress of the play, into an "interval" used by the scene-shifter in preparing new backgrounds, and by the listener in forgetting the facts and getting rid of the fervours which may have been aroused in him by high thoughts and fine acting.1 The modern manager, in order to regain the time spent on what he considers the necessary shifting of the scenes, cuts the play, not always with the best judgment. He may flatter himself that he is able to collaborate with Shakespeare, and even improve on him, but he cannot deny that he comes between Shakespeare and the audience, and he is not always able to gauge the amount of "eclipse "he causes by this intervention of himself. We cannot understand Shakespeare's complete conception without seeing the whole of his play. In his work the action progresses from step to step; the idea evolves from conversation to conversation. To cut out anything, therefore, is to create a hiatus, irreparable by the stop-gap of mere scenery. The manager, again, in deciding which passages he must retain, and which he may cut out, is guided, not always by their intrinsic or relative value, but by their relation to the "parts of the leading actors. The scenes which he considers important to their success must at all risks be performed. Often the manager himself is an actor. Whether he is or not, he judges as an actor of one part, and not as the artist who conceives the whole. The star-system is fatal to any clear understanding of Shakespeare's conception-not that he would have disapproved of star-performers. He would like all his translators to be stars, but he would like them duly propor(1) Southey writes to Scott condemning the Introductions in Marmion as producing the same unpleasant effect" as the intervals for music and conversation in stage plays. 66 tioned, and subject to the natural laws of the universe. In stellar space, the paths and speeds of planets and stars all depend upon complex effects of the law of gravitation. Nature herself could not subtract a planet or two from even our own little solar system without rearranging her whole scheme of balanced proportion. The manager does not make a new scheme; he tries to work out the system without some of its component parts, and the result is not the cosmos of the great dramatic creator, but something entirely different. The selection has a necessarily deteriorating influence on the actor, especially if he is a star. Unconsciously he exaggerates the importance of the part allotted to him, and often bombasts it out, without allowing himself to be a vehicle for the poet's ideas. The player again of the despised minor parts is apt to think that anything will do, and often misses rare flashes of genius. The listener, whom Shakespeare delighted in training so as to be able to collaborate with him, loses his role altogether. The promptings of the poet may easily be traced in every play he wrote, but nowhere is his commission so explicit as in Henry V. The prologue to each of the four acts tells the listener where he is to be, and what he is expected to think and to do. The Chorus, Prologue to Act I., says : "Let us.... On your imaginary forces work.... Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.... Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth: For 't is your thoughts that now must deck our kings," &c. The other prologues localise the other scenes in a similar method. Though Shakespeare in this play was doubtless defending the methods of the romantic drama as against the classical school, headed by Ben Jonson, who followed the unities of time, place, and action, the testimony is none the less clear that he called on his audience to do the scene-painting and scene-shifting for themselves. |