He has never been a philosophical thinker; but he has acquired the
equivalent of a philosophy through his faithfulness to a single outlook
upon human life and destiny. And in this brief and burning play, more
than in much of his later writing, I find the reflection of that unique
temperament, to which real things are so abstract, and abstract things
so coloured and tangible; a temperament in which there is almost too
much poetry for a poet--as pure gold, to be worked in, needs to be
mingled with alloy.
There is, perhaps, no more terrible story in the later history of the
world, no actual tragedy more made to the hand of the dramatist, than
the story of the Borgias. In its entirety it would make another _Cenci_,
in the hands of another Shelley, and another Censor would prohibit the
one as he prohibits the other. We are not permitted to deal with some
form of evil on the stage. Yet what has Shelley said?
There must be nothing attempted to make the exhibition subservient
to what is vulgarly termed a moral purpose. The highest moral
purpose aimed at in the highest species of the drama is the
teaching the human heart, through its sympathies and antipathies,
the knowledge of itself.
A great drama on the story of the Borgias could certainly have much to
teach the human heart in the knowledge of itself. It would be moral in
its presentation of the most ignobly splendid vices that have swayed the
world; of the pride and defiance which rise like a strangling serpent,
coiling about the momentary weakness of good; of that pageant in which
the pagan gods came back, drunk and debauched with their long exile
under the earth, and the garden-god assumed the throne of the Holy of
Holies. Alexander, Caesar, Lucrezia, the threefold divinity, might be
shown as a painter has shown one of them on the wall of one of his own
chapels: a swinish portent in papal garments, kneeling, bloated,
thinking of Lucrezia, with fingers folded over the purple of his rings.
Or the family might have been shown as Rossetti, in one of the
loveliest, most cruel, and most significant of his pictures, has shown
it: a light, laughing masquerade of innocence, the boy and girl dancing
before the cushioned idol and her two worshippers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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