Volpone; Or, The Fox
thenceforward "malign, traduce, or detract the person or writings of
Quintus Horatius Flaccus [Jonson] or any other eminent man transcending
you in merit." One of the most diverting personages in Jonson's comedy
is Captain Tucca. "His peculiarity" has been well described by Ward as
"a buoyant blackguardism which recovers itself instantaneously from the
most complete exposure, and a picturesqueness of speech like that of a
walking dictionary of slang."
It was this character, Captain Tucca, that Dekker hit upon in his reply,
"Satiromastix," and he amplified him, turning his abusive vocabulary
back upon Jonson and adding "an immodesty to his dialogue that did not
enter into Jonson's conception." It has been held, altogether plausibly,
that when Dekker was engaged professionally, so to speak, to write
a dramatic reply to Jonson, he was at work on a species of chronicle
history, dealing with the story of Walter Terill in the reign of William
Rufus. This he hurriedly adapted to include the satirical characters
suggested by "Poetaster," and fashioned to convey the satire of his
reply. The absurdity of placing Horace in the court of a Norman king is
the result. But Dekker's play is not without its palpable hits at the
arrogance, the literary pride, and self-righteousness of Jonson-Horace,
whose "ningle" or pal, the absurd Asinius Bubo, has recently been shown
to figure forth, in all likelihood, Jonson's friend, the poet Drayton.
Slight and hastily adapted as is "Satiromastix," especially in a
comparison with the better wrought and more significant satire of
"Poetaster," the town awarded the palm to Dekker, not to Jonson; and
Jonson gave over in consequence his practice of "comical satire." Though
Jonson was cited to appear before the Lord Chief Justice to answer
certain charges to the effect that he had attacked lawyers and soldiers
in "Poetaster," nothing came of this complaint. It may be suspected that
much of this furious clatter and give-and-take was pure playing to the
gallery. The town was agog with the strife, and on no less an authority
than Shakespeare ("Hamlet," ii. 2), we learn that the children's company
(acting the plays of Jonson) did "so berattle the common stages... that
many, wearing rapiers, are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come
thither."
Several other plays have been thought to bear a greater or less part
in the war of the theatres. Among them the most important is a college
play, entitled "The Return from Parnassus," dating 1601-02. In it a
much-quoted passage makes Burbage, as a character, declare: "Why here's
our fellow Shakespeare puts them all down; aye and Ben Jonson, too. O
that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow; he brought up Horace, giving the
poets a pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him a purge that
made him bewray his credit." Was Shakespeare then concerned in this
war of the stages? And what could have been the nature of this "purge"?
Among several suggestions, "Troilus and Cressida" has been thought by
some to be the play in which Shakespeare thus "put down" his friend,
Jonson. A wiser interpretation finds the "purge" in "Satiromastix,"
which, though not written by Shakespeare, was staged by his company,
and therefore with his approval and under his direction as one of the
leaders of that company.
The last years of the reign of Elizabeth thus saw Jonson recognised as
a dramatist second only to Shakespeare, and not second even to him as
a dramatic satirist. But Jonson now turned his talents to new fields.
Plays on subjects derived from classical story and myth had held the
stage from the beginning of the drama, so that Shakespeare was making
no new departure when he wrote his "Julius Caesar" about 1600. Therefore
when Jonson staged "Sejanus," three years later and with Shakespeare's
company once more, he was only following in the elder dramatist's
footsteps. But Jonson's idea of a play on classical history, on the one
hand, and Shakespeare's and the elder popular dramatists, on the other,
were very different. Heywood some years before had put five straggling
plays on the stage in quick succession, all derived from stories in Ovid
and dramatised with little taste or discrimination. Shakespeare had
a finer conception of form, but even he was contented to take all his
ancient history from North's translation of Plutarch and dramatise his
subject without further inquiry. Jonson was a scholar and a classical
antiquarian. He reprobated this slipshod amateurishness, and wrote
his "Sejanus" like a scholar, reading Tacitus, Suetonius, and
other authorities, to be certain of his facts, his setting, and his
atmosphere, and somewhat pedantically noting his authorities in the
margin when he came to print. "Sejanus" is a tragedy of genuine dramatic
power in which is told with discriminating taste the story of the
haughty favourite of Tiberius with his tragical overthrow. Our drama
presents no truer nor more painstaking representation of ancient
Roman life than may be found in Jonson's "Sejanus" and "Catiline his
Conspiracy," which followed in 1611. A passage in the address of the
former play to the reader, in which Jonson refers to a collaboration
in an earlier version, has led to the surmise that Shakespeare may have
been that "worthier pen." There is no evidence to determine the matter.
In 1605, we find Jonson in active collaboration with Chapman and Marston
in the admirable comedy of London life entitled "Eastward Hoe." In
the previous year, Marston had dedicated his "Malcontent," in terms
of fervid admiration, to Jonson; so that the wounds of the war of the
theatres must have been long since healed. Between Jonson and Chapman
there was the kinship of similar scholarly ideals. The two continued
friends throughout life. "Eastward Hoe" achieved the extraordinary
popularity represented in a demand for three issues in one year. But
this was not due entirely to the merits of the play. In its earliest
version a passage which an irritable courtier conceived to be derogatory
to his nation, the Scots, sent both Chapman and Jonson to jail; but the
matter was soon patched up, for by this time Jonson had influence at
court.
With the accession of King James, Jonson began his long and successful
career as a writer of masques. He wrote more masques than all his
competitors together, and they are of an extraordinary variety
and poetic excellence. Jonson did not invent the masque; for such
premeditated devices to set and frame, so to speak, a court ball had
been known and practised in varying degrees of elaboration long before
his time. But Jonson gave dramatic value to the masque, especially in
his invention of the antimasque, a comedy or farcical element of relief,
entrusted to professional players or dancers. He enhanced, as well, the
beauty and dignity of those portions of the masque in which noble lords
and ladies took their parts to create, by their gorgeous costumes and
artistic grouping and evolutions, a sumptuous show. On the mechanical
and scenic side Jonson had an inventive and ingenious partner in
Inigo Jones, the royal architect, who more than any one man raised
the standard of stage representation in the England of his day. Jonson
continued active in the service of the court in the writing of masques
and other entertainments far into the reign of King Charles; but,
towards the end, a quarrel with Jones embittered his life, and the two
testy old men appear to have become not only a constant irritation to
each other, but intolerable bores at court. In "Hymenaei," "The Masque
of Queens," "Love Freed from Ignorance," "Lovers made Men," "Pleasure
Reconciled to Virtue," and many more will be found Jonson's aptitude,
his taste, his poetry and inventiveness in these by-forms of the drama;
while in "The Masque of Christmas," and "The Gipsies Metamorphosed"
especially, is discoverable that power of broad comedy which, at
court as well as in the city, was not the least element of Jonson's
contemporary popularity.
But Jonson had by no means given up the popular stage when he turned to
the amusement of King James. In 1605 "Volpone" was produced, "The Silent
Woman" in 1609, "The Alchemist" in the following year. These comedies,
with "Bartholomew Fair," 1614, represent Jonson at his height, and for
constructive cleverness, character successfully conceived in the manner
of caricature, wit and brilliancy of dialogue, they stand alone in
English drama. "Volpone, or the Fox," is, in a sense, a transition play
from the dramatic satires of the war of the theatres to the purer comedy
represented in the plays named above. Its subject is a struggle of
wit applied to chicanery; for among its dramatis personae, from the
villainous Fox himself, his rascally servant Mosca, Voltore (the
vulture), Corbaccio and Corvino (the big and the little raven), to Sir
Politic Would-be and the rest, there is scarcely a virtuous character in
the play. Question has been raised as to whether a story so forbidding
can be considered a comedy, for, although the plot ends in the
discomfiture and imprisonment of the most vicious, it involves no mortal
catastrophe. But Jonson was on sound historical ground, for "Volpone"
is conceived far more logically on the lines of the ancients' theory
of comedy than was ever the romantic drama of Shakespeare, however
repulsive we may find a philosophy of life that facilely divides the
world into the rogues and their dupes, and, identifying brains
with roguery and innocence with folly, admires the former while
inconsistently punishing them.
"The Silent Woman" is a gigantic farce of the most ingenious
construction. The whole comedy hinges on a huge joke, played by a
heartless nephew on his misanthropic uncle, who is induced to take to
himself a wife, young, fair, and warranted silent, but who, in the end,
turns out neither silent nor a woman at all. In "The Alchemist," again,
we have the utmost cleverness in construction, the whole fabric building
climax on climax, witty, ingenious, and so plausibly presented that we
forget its departures from the possibilities of life. In "The Alchemist"
Jonson represented, none the less to the life, certain sharpers of
the metropolis, revelling in their shrewdness and rascality and in the
variety of the stupidity and wickedness of their victims. We may object
to the fact that the only person in the play possessed of a scruple
of honesty is discomfited, and that the greatest scoundrel of all is
approved in the end and rewarded. The comedy is so admirably written and
contrived, the personages stand out with such lifelike distinctness
in their several kinds, and the whole is animated with such verve and
resourcefulness that "The Alchemist" is a new marvel every time it is
read. Lastly of this group comes the tremendous comedy, "Bartholomew
Fair," less clear cut, less definite, and less structurally worthy
of praise than its three predecessors, but full of the keenest and
cleverest of satire and inventive to a degree beyond any English comedy
save some other of Jonson's own. It is in "Bartholomew Fair" that we are
presented to the immortal caricature of the Puritan, Zeal-in-the-Land
Busy, and the Littlewits that group about him, and it is in this
extraordinary comedy that the humour of Jonson, always open to this
danger, loosens into the Rabelaisian mode that so delighted King James
in "The Gipsies Metamorphosed." Another comedy of less merit is "The
Devil is an Ass," acted in 1616. It was the failure of this play that
caused Jonson to give over writing for the public stage for a period of
nearly ten years.
"Volpone" was laid as to scene in Venice. Whether because of the success
of "Eastward Hoe" or for other reasons, the other three comedies declare
in the words of the prologue to "The Alchemist":