Pierre Corneille

“ When his familiar friends, who desired to see him perfect, spoke to him of his defects, he replied with a smile, "I am not the less Pierre Corneille." La Bruyère bears the same testimony: "Simple and timid; tiresome in conversation—he uses one word for another—he knows not how to recite his own verses." [17]
In truth, Corneille's merit did not, as with many Frenchmen, lie on the surface. Conscious of his own desert, ambitious of glory, proud, yet shy, he shrunk from society where all excellence is despised that does not sparkle and amuse. ”

“ An Academical reception is one of the occasions in which Frenchmen have always expected that the recipient of honor should distinguish himself. But it was not in Corneille's power to please his audience by making a speech. We need not be too heavy upon him because his glory was not universal. As he said of himself, he was none the less Pierre Corneille. Readers have generally extolled Corneille too highly, or have not given him his due praise. ”

“ The trapper shall be trapped,—the biter shall be bit, Unravelled is the web that he, poor fool, hath knit! ALBIN. Jove! What a plague to thee is this mistrust! FELIX. Nay, those at court must fence; their weapons never rust, If once thou yield the clue to thread the maze, The sequence is most plain—the man betrayed betrays; Severus, and his gifts, alike I fear! If Polyeucte still to reason close his ear, Severus' love is hate—his peace is strife— First law of nature this, 'Preserve thy life!' ALBIN. Ah, let Pauline at least thy grace obtain! FELIX. If Decius grace withhold, my pardon vain! ”

“ Who loves the darkness hateth still the light. PAUL. O, by the Gods— FELIX. Nay, daughter, save thy breath; Spurned—outraged—'tis the Gods demand his death. PAUL. They hear our prayers— FELIX. Nay, then let Polyeucte pray! PAUL. Since Decius gives thee power,—that word unsay! FELIX. He gives me power, Pauline, to do his will Against his foes—'gainst all who work him ill. PAUL. Is Polyeucte his foe? FELIX. All Christians rebels are. PAUL. Thy son shall plead more loud than policy or war. For mine is thine; O father, save thine own— FELIX. The son who is a traitor I disown! ”

“ They rage in battle, faithful ward they keep, They fight like lions, but they die like sheep. They serve the State: Rome's servant must defend Those who to might of Rome such succour lend. Pauline, I will obey, whate'er befall; The man who loseth honour loseth all.
ACT V—FELIX. ALBIN. CLEON FELIX. Caught in Severus' net thy Felix see! He hates and holds me—oh, the misery! ALBIN. I see a generous man, who cries, 'Forgive, Let Pauline smile once more—let Polyeucte live!' FELIX. His soul thou canst not read—tho' noble heart he feigns. The father he abhors,—the daughter he disdains! ”

“ Nearchus' sin is his,—and yet the grace He shall not win, thy Polyeucte may embrace! My duty—to a father's love betrayed Hath of thy sire a fond accomplice made; A healing balm I bring for all thy fears, I look for thanks, and lo—thou giv'st me tears! PAUL. I give no thanks—no cause for thanks I find; I know the Christian temper—know their mind, They can blaspheme, but ah, they cannot lie! They know not how to yield—but they can die! FELIX. As bird in hand, he holds his pardon still. PAUL. The bird escapes, when 'tis the owner's will. FELIX. He death escapes—if so he do elect. ”

“ The scepticism that prevailed for the last few years preceding the Revolution, was not the sensual atheism which had disgraced the eighteenth century so long. The faith in a first and eternal cause, in the sacredness of human rights and the holiness of duty, was firmly held by many noble spirits, who hailed with enthusiasm the first dawn of democracy. This faith was blended in the soul of Charlotte Corday, with a passionate admiration of antiquity. All the austerity and republican enthusiasm of her illustrious ancestor, Pierre Corneille, seemed to have come down to his young descendant. ”

“ PAUL. Too plain, Severus, I my torture show,— Tho' flame leap up no more, the embers glow; Far other speech and voice, and mien were mine, Could I forget that once thou call'dst me thine! Tho' reason rules, yes, gains the mastery No queen benignant, but a tyrant she! Oh, if I conquer—if the strife I gain, Yet memory for aye is linked with pain! I feel the charm that binds me still to thee; If duty great, yet great thy worth to me: I see thee still the same, who waked the fire Which waked in me ineffable desire. Begirt by crown of everlasting fame Thou art more glorious—yet art still the same. ”

“ His pardon will my father grant to thee. He fears thee: more, if Polyeucte's life he take, For thee he slays him—yes, 'tis for thy sake. Christ died for man—let pagan virtue dim His fame: plead for thy foe! so rival him! No easy boon I ask, there needs a soul most rare; But when the fight is fierce—then is the victory fair. To help a man to be what thou wouldst be Is triumph that belongs alone to thee! Let this suffice thee: she, whom thou hast loved, She, who by thy great love was not unmoved, Of thee, and of no other dares to crave That thou, Severus, shouldst my husband save! ”

“ FELIX. 'Tis stern, 'tis just—as fate; When justice drags a halting foot, too late, She is not justice—for the vengeful mob (Whose hearts for Polyeucte ne'er cease to throb) , Usurps her place, and, spurning curb and rein, The felon crowns, and all our work is vain. My sceptre trembles, and all insecure Totters my crown,—a prey for every boor. Then, swift, Severus hears the welcome news, The jaundiced mind of Decius to abuse. Shall I, the rabble's lord, obey the rabble's will? ALBIN. Who ill in all around foresees,—but doubles ill. Each prop thou hast is but a sword to pierce ”

“ But his rank among the greatest of dramatic poets is not a matter of question. For a poet is to be judged by his best things, and the best things of Corneille are second to none.
The Plays.—It was, however, some time before his genius came to perfection. It is undeniable that the first six or seven of his plays are of no very striking intrinsic merit. On the other hand, it requires only a very slight acquaintance with the state of the drama in France at the time to see that these works, poor as they may now seem, must have struck the spectators as something new and surprising. ”

“ The maiden was Marie-Anne Charlotte, of Corday and of Armont, one of the last descendants of a noble, though impoverished Norman family, which counted amongst its near relatives, Fontenelle, the wit and philosopher of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and amongst its ancestors, the father of the great tragic poet of France, Pierre Corneille.
Her father, Jacques of Corday and of Armont, was a younger son of this noble line. He was, however, poorer than many of the peasants amongst whom he lived, cultivating with his own hands, his narrow inheritance. ”

“ They have named thee lord! they will desire thee as their
king! But, amidst thy brilliant [_lit._ high] achievements, be thou to
her always faithful; return, if it be possible, still more worthy of
her, and by thy great exploits acquire such renown, that it may be
glorious for her to espouse thee then.
Don Rodrigo
To gain Chimène, and for your service, what command can
be issued to me that mine arm cannot accomplish? Yet, though absent from
her [dear] eyes, I must suffer grief, sire, I have too much happiness in
being able--to hope! ”

“ Accursed ambition! hateful madness! whose tyranny the most generous souls are suffering. O [sense of] honor!-merciless to my dearest desires, how many tears and sighs art thou going to cost me?
Infanta. Thou hast, in their quarrel, no reason to be alarmed; one moment has created it, one moment will extinguish it. It has made too much noise not to be settled amicably, since already the king wishes to reconcile them; and thou knowest that my zeal [lit. soul] , keenly alive to thy sorrows, will do its utmost [lit. impossibilities] to dry up their source.
Chimène. ”

“ Thy unhappy lover will have far less pain in dying by thy hand than in
living with thy hatred.
Chimène.
Go; I do not hate thee.
Don Rodrigo
Thou oughtest to do so.
Chimène.
I cannot.
Don Rodrigo
Dost thou so little fear calumny, and so little [fear]
false reports? When people shall know my crime, and that thy passion
[for me] still continues, what will not envy and deception spread
abroad? Compel them to silence, and, without debating more, save thy
fair fame by causing me to die.
Chimène.
That [fair fame] shines far more gloriously [_lit._ better]
by leaving thee life ”

“ And this great name of Cid, which thou hast just now won--does it
not show too clearly over whom thou art destined to reign?
He is worthy of me, but he belongs to Chimène; the present which I made
of him [to her] , injures me. Between them, the death of a father has
interposed so little hatred, that the duty of blood with regret pursues
him. Thus let us hope for no advantage, either from his transgression or
from my grief, since, to punish me, destiny has allowed that love should
continue even between two enemies.
Scene III.--THE INFANTA and LEONORA.
Infanta. ”

“ How high soe'er, worth what it may, I fear his hate, For he is man, and feels as man, and I Once spurned his suit with base indignity. Yes, he at Decius' ear would work may woe, He loves Pauline, thus Polyeucte is his foe: All weapons possible to love and war, And those who let them rust but laggards are. I fear—and fear doth give our vision scope— E'en now he cherisheth a tender hope; He sees his rival prostrate in the dust, So, as a man he hopes—because he must. Can dark despair to love and hope give place To save the guilty from deserved disgrace? ”

“ But the difficulty can only exist for persons who are insensible to dramatic excellence, or who so strongly object to the forms of the French drama that they cannot relish anything so presented. Rodrigue, Chimène, Don Diègue are not of any age, but of all time. The conflicting passions of love, honour, duty, are here represented as they never had been on a French stage, and in the “strong style” which was Corneille’s own. Of the many objections urged against the play, perhaps the weightiest is that which condemns the frigid and superfluous part of the Infanta. ”

“ It is certain, however, that there is more interval between these six plays and Médée than between the latter and Corneille’s greatest drama. Here first do we find those sudden and magnificent lines which characterize the poet. The title-rôle is, however, the only good one, and as a whole the play is heavy. Much the same may be said of its curious successor L’Illusion comique. This is not only a play within a play, but in part of it there is actually a third involution, one set of characters beholding another set discharging the parts of yet another. ”

“ The fact that one of the characters jumps on another’s back, and the rather promiscuous kissing which takes place, are nothing to the liberties usually taken in contemporary plays. A worse fault is the στιχομυθία, or, to borrow Butler’s expression, the Cat-and-Puss dialogue, which abounds. But the common objection to the play at the time was that it was too natural and too devoid of striking incidents. Corneille accordingly, as he tells us, set to work to cure these faults, and produced a truly wonderful work, Clitandre. Murders, combats, escapes and outrages of all kinds are provided ”

“ Severus haunts me—oh, I know his love, Yet hopeless love must mate with jealousy,— While Polyeucte, who has won what he has lost, Can meet no rival with an equal eye. The fruit of rivalry is ever hate And envy; both must still engender strife: One sees that rival hand has grasped his prize, The other yearns for prize himself has missed. Weak reason naught, when headlong passion reigns, For valour seeks a sword, and love—revenge. One fears to see the prize he gained impaired, The other would that wrested prize regain ”

“ If Polyeucte hold their heart, the people fierce Will gather fiercer courage from despair. FELIX. Death settles all; they'll find no helper there, And if—without a head—the body should rebel, Convulsive throes I mock, and nerveless fury quell. Whate'er ensues the Emperor must approve, I shall have done my part, and win his love. Here comes the man (Enter Polyeucte and Soldiers) I still must try to save; If he repent—'tis well! If not—the grave! (To Polyeucte) Is life still hateful? Doth death still allure? Is earth still naught? Do heavenly joys endure? ”

“ Nicomède, often considered one of Corneille’s best plays, is chiefly remarkable for the curious and unusual character of its hero. Of Pertharite it need only be said that no single critic has to our knowledge disputed the justice of its damnation. Œdipe is certainly unworthy of its subject and its author, but in Sertorius we have one of Corneille’s finest plays. It is remarkable not only for its many splendid verses and for the nobility of its sentiment, but from the fact that not one of its characters lacks interest, a commendation not generally to be bestowed on its author’s work. ”

“ Therein appeared Polyeucte, the memorable comedy of Le Menteur, which though adapted from the Spanish stood in relation to French comedy very much as Le Cid, which owed less to Spain, stood to French tragedy; its less popular and far less good Suite,—and perhaps La Mort de Pompée. Rodogune (1644) was a brilliant success; Théodore (1645) , a tragedy on a somewhat perilous subject, was the first of Corneille’s plays which was definitely damned. ”