Suchbegriff: gemu
Treffer: 581

16 - La Poésie Dramatique /

Le Commandeur lui révele son projet. Germeuil voit tout d'un coup le danger de cette confidence; il en est troublé. Il cherche, mais inutilement, à ramener le Commandeur. Il se récrie sur l'inhumanité qu'il y a à persécuter une innocente... Où est la commisération? la justice?... La commisération? Il s'agit bien de cela; & la justice est à séquestrer des créatures qui ne sont dans le monde que pour égarer les enfans & désoler leurs parens... Et votre neveu?... Il en aura d'abord quelque chagrin; mais une autre fantaisie effacera celle-là. Dans deux jours il n'y paroîtra plus, & nous lui aurons rendu un service important..... Et ces ordres qui disposent des citoyens, croyez-vous qu'on les obtienne ainsi?... J'attends le mien, & dans une heure ou deux nous pourrons manœuvrer.... Monsieur le Commandeur, à quoi m'engagez-vous?... Il accede; je le tiens. A faire ta cour à mon frere, & à m'attacher à toi pour jamais... Saint-Albin... Eh bien, Saint-Albin, SaintAlbin; c'est ton ami, mais ce n'est pas toi. Germeuil, soi, soi d'abord; & les autres après, si l'on peut... Monsieur...Adieu; je vais savoir si ma lettre de cachet est venue, & te rejoindre sur le champ... Un mot encore, s'il vous plaît... Tout est entendu. Tout est dit. Ma fortune & ma niece.


17 - Von der dramatischen Dichtkunst /

Gewohnheit fesselt. Stehet ein Mensch auf, der Funken vor Genie zeigt, und irgend ein Werk ans Licht bringt: so ist das die erste Wirkung, daß er die Gemüther in Erstaunen setzt und theilet. Nach und nach macht er sie wieder einig; nun folgen ihm eine MengeNachahmer; der Muster werden mehr; man macht häuffige Anmerkungen; man setzt Regeln fest; die Kunst entstehet; man giebt ihr Grenzen und thut den Ausspruch, daß alles was nicht in dem engen Bezirke, den man gezeichnet hat, enthalten ist, widersinnig und schlecht sey: es sind die Säulen des Herkules, über die man sich nicht hinaus wagen kann, ohne sich zu verirren.


18 - Von der dramatischen Dichtkunst /

O dramatische Dichter, der wahre Beyfall, nach dem ihr streben müßt, ist nicht das Klatschen der Hände, das sich plötzlich nach einer schimmernden Zeile hören läßt, sondern der tiefe Seufzer, der nach dem Zwange eines langen Stillschweigens aus der Seele dringt, und sie erleichtert. Ja es giebt einen noch heftigern Eindruck, den sich aber nur die vorstellen können, die für ihre Kunst gebohren sind, und es voraus wissen, wie weit ihrer Zauberey gehen kann: diesen nehmlich, das Volk in einen Stand der Unbehäglichkeit zu setzen; so daß Ungewißheit, Bekümmerniß, Verwirrung in aller Gemü thern herrschen, und euere Zuschauer denUnglücklichen gleichen, die in einem Erdbeben die Mauern ihrer Häuser wanken sehen, und die Erde ihnen einen festen Tritt verweigern fühlen.


19 - Von der dramatischen Dichtkunst /

Ich meines Theils mache weit mehr aus einemAffecte, aus einem Charakter, der sich nach und nach entwickelt und sich endlich in aller seiner Stärke zeiget, als aus allen den künstlichen Verwickelungen, aus denen man Stücke zusammensetzt, in welchen die Zuschauer eben so sehr hin und her geworffen werden, als die Personen. Mich dünkt, der gute Geschmack kann dergleichen Stücke nicht vertragen, und grosse Wirkungen können sie unmöglich haben. Und das ist es gleichwohl, was wirLeben und Bewegung nennen. Die Alten hatten einen ganz andern Begriff davon. Der einfältigste Verlauf; eine Handlung, mit der man kurz vor ihrem Ende anfängt, damit alles bereits aufs äusserste gebracht sey; eine Entwickelung, die alle Augenblicke ausbrechen will und doch immer durch einen ganz schlechten aber wahren Umstand verschoben wird; nachdrückliche Reden; heftige Leidenschaften; Gemählde; ein oder zwey meisterhaft gezeichnete Charaktere: das war ihre ganze Kunst. Mehr brauchte Sophokles nicht, aller Gemüther unter sich zu bringen. Wer keinen Gefallen an den Alten gefunden hat, der wird nie erfahren, wie viel unserRacine dem alten Homer zu danken hat.


20 - Von der dramatischen Dichtkunst /

Lassen Sie uns auf die Charaktere kommen. Kömmt ein stürmischer Liebhaber, wie Clair ville, darinn vor? Nein. Ein unverstelltes, naives Mädchen, wie Rosalia? Nein. Eine Frau, von solcher Gemüthsart, von so erhabnen Gesinnungen, als Theresia? Nein. Ein Mann von so düsterm und wildem Charakter, als Dorval? Nein. Also findet sich in demaufrichtigen Freunde kein einziger von meinenCharaktern? Kein einziger; auch nicht einmal Arnolden ausgenommen.


21 - Von der dramatischen Dichtkunst /

Der Commthur entdeckt ihm seinen Anschlag. Germeuil erkennet mit Einem Blicke die ganze Gefahr dieser Vertraulichkeit; er wird darüber unruhig. Er sucht den Commthur vergebens auf andere Wege zu bringen. Er führt ihm zu Gemüthe, wie unmenschlich es seyn würde, eine Unschuldige so zu verfolgen. $$$ [Kommentar: Darstellung im folgenden zu korrigieren, da Textpassus aus dem Stück] — Wo bleibt das Mitleid? Wo bleibt die Gerechtigkeit? — Das Mitleid? Auf das kömmts auch an. Die Gerechtigkeit aber, die verlangt es, daß man die Creaturen in Verwahrung bringen soll, die weiter zu nichts in der Welt nütze sind, als die Kinder zu verführen, und die Aeltern zu betrüben. — — Und ihr Neffe? — Ha, anfangs wird es ihm ein wenig ärgern; aber wie lange wird es währen, so ist diese Grille von einer andern verdrengt? In zwey Tagen ist alles vorüber; und wir haben ihm einen wichti- gen Dienst geleistet. Und die gerichtlichen Befehle, die man dazu nöthig hat, glauben Sie, daß man die so leicht erhalten kann? —Meinen werde ich bald haben; und in einer oder zwey Stunden können wir anfangen. — Herr Commthur, wozu verleiten Sie mich? — Er beißt an; ich habe ihn. Dich meinem Bruder gefällig, und mich dir auf immer verbindlich zu machen. — Saint Albin — Nun gut, Saint Albin; Saint Albin ist dein Freund, aber er ist doch nicht Du. Sey du erst Du, erst Germeuil; und hernach die andern, wo möglich. — Mein Herr — Adieu, ich will sehen, ob mein Verhaftbefehl schon gekommen ist. Ich bin gleich wieder bey dir. — Nur noch ein Wort, wenn es Ihnen gefällig ist. — Schon genug gehört. Schon genug gesagt. Mein Vermögen und meine Nichte.


22 - Le Pere de Famille /

Si je ne considérois que moi, je pourrois approuver ce parti. Mais je dois vous ouvrir les yeux sur un temps où je ne serai plus... Cécile, la Nature a ses vues; & si vous regardez bien, vous verrez sa vengeance sur tous ceux qui les ont trompées; les hommes punis du célibat par le vice, les femmes par le mépris & par l'ennui... Vous connoissez les différens états; dites-moi, en est-il un plus triste & moins consi déré que celui d'une fille âgée? Mon enfant, passé trente ans on suppose quelque défaut de corps ou d'esprit à celle qui n'a trouvé personne qui fût tenté de supporter avec elle les peines de la vie. Que cela soit ou non,l'âge avance, les charmes passent, les hommes s'éloignent, la mauvaise humeur prend; on perd ses parens, ses connoissances, ses amis. Une fille surannée n'a plus autour d'elle que des indifférens qui la négligent, ou des ames intéressées qui comptent ses jours. Elle le sent; elle s'en afflige; elle vit sans qu'on la console, & meurt sans qu'on la pleure.


23 - Der Hausvater /

Wenn ich bloß auf mich sehen wollte, so könnte ich mit diesem Vorsatze gar wohl zufrieden seyn. Aber ich muß dir die Zeit zu Gemüthe führen, da ich nicht mehr seyn werde. — Cäcilia, die Natur hat ihre Absichten; und wenn du Achtung geben willst, so wirst du finden, daß sie sich an allen rächet, die ihr diese Absichten fehl schlagen lassen; die Mannspersonen strafet sie, wegen des ehelosen Standes, durch dasLaster, und das Frauenzimmer durch Verachtung und Langeweile. — Du kennest die verschiedenen Stände; sage mir, giebt es einen traurigern, einen ungeachtetern Stand, als den Stand einer betagten Jungfer? Mein Kind, man vermuthet, ein Mädchen müsse entweder Gebrechen des Körpers oder der Seele haben, wenn sie dreyßig Jahr alt geworden ist, ohne eine Person gefunden zu haben, die mit ihr die Mühseligkeiten des Lebens zu ertragen, geneigt gewesen wäre. Dem aber sey wie ihm wolle; das Alter kömmt heran; die Reitze verschwinden; die Mannspersonen entfernen sich; die üble Laune nimmt überhand; man verlieret seine Aeltern, seine Bekannte, seine Freunde. Eine alte Jungfer hat niemanden um sich, als Gleichgültige, die sie verabsäumen, oder Eigennützige, die ihre Tage zehlen. Sie empfindet es; sie betrübt sich darüber; sie lebt, ohne daß sie jemand tröstet, und stirbt, ohne daß sie jemand beweinet.


24 - Fils naturelle /

Mais lorsque la Réligion Chrétienne eut chassé des esprits la croyance des Dieux du paganisme, & contraint l'artiste à chercher d'autres sources d'illusion, le systême poétitique changea; les hommes prirent la place des Dieux, & on leur donna un caractere plus un.


25 - Der natürliche Sohn /

Als aber die christliche Religion den Glauben an die heidnischen Götter aus den Gemüthern der Menschen vertrieb, und den Künstler zwang, andere Quellen der Illusion zu suchen, so änderte sich das poetische System. Die Menschen traten an die Stelle der Götter, und man gab ihnen einen entschiednen Charakter.


26 - An Essay on Dramatick Poesy /

Taking then a Barge which a Servant of Lisideius had provided for them, they made haste to shoot the Bridge, and lest behind them that great fall of Waters which hindred them from hearing what they desir'd: After which, having disingag'd themselves from many Vessels which rode at Anchor in the Thames, and almost block'd up the Passage towards Greenwich, they ordered the Watermen to let fall their Oars more gently; and then every one favouring his own Curiosity with a strict Silence, it was not long ere they perceived the Air to break about them like the Noise of distant Thunder, or of Swallows in a Chimney: Those little Undulations of Sound, though almost vanishing before they reach'd them, yet still seeming to retain somewhat of their first Horror which they had betwixt the Fleets: After they had attentively listened till such time as the Sound by little and little went from them; Eugenius lifting up his Head, and taking Notice of it, was the first who congratulated to the rest that happy Omen of our Nation's Victory: Adding, that we had but this to desire in Confirmation of it, that we might hear no more of that Noise which was now leaving the English Coast. When the rest had concurr'd in the same Opinion, Crites, a Person of a sharp Judgment, and somewhat too delicate a Taste in Wit, which the World hath mistaken in him for ill Nature, said, smiling to us, That if the Concernment of this Battel had not been so exceeding great, he could scarce have wish'd the Victory at the Price he knew he must pay for it, in being subject to the reading and hearing of so many ill Verses, as he was sure would be made on that Subject. Adding, That AnEssayof Dramatick Poesy. no Argument could scape some of those eternal Rhymers, who watch a Battel with more diligence than the Ravens and Birds of Prey; and the worst of them surest to be first in upon the Quarry, while the better able, either out of Modesty writ not at all, or set that due Value upon their Poems, as to let them be often desired, and long expected. There are some of those impertinent People of whom you speak, answer'd Lisideius, who, to my Knowledge, are already so provided, either way, that they can produce not only a Panegyrick upon the Victory, but, if need be, a Funeral Elegy on the Duke: Wherein, after they have crown'd his Valour with many Laurels, they will at last deplore the odds under which he fell, concluding that his Courage deserv'd a better Destiny. All the Company smil'd at the Conceit of Lisideius; but Crites, more eager than before, began to make particular Exceptions against some Writers, and said, the publick Magistrate ought to send betimes to forbid them; and that it concern'd the Peace and Quiet of all honest People, that ill Poets should be as well silenc'd as seditious Preachers. In my Opinion, repliedEugenius, you pursue your Point too far; for as to my own particular, I am so great a Lover of Poesy, that I could wish them all rewarded, who attempt but to do well; at least, I would not have them worse us'd than one of their Brethren was by Sylla the Dictator: Quem in concione vidimus (says Tully) cum ei libcllum malus poeta de populo subjecisset, quod epigramma in eum fecisset tantummodo alternis versibus longiusculis, statim ex iis rebus quas tunc vendebat jubere ei præmium tribui, sub ea conditione ne quid postea scriberet. I could wish with all my Heart, replied Crites, that many whom we know, were as bountifully thank'd upon the same Condition, that they would never trouble us again. For amongst others, I have a mortal Apprehension of two Poets, whom this Victory, with the help of both her Wings, will never be able to escape. 'Tis easy to guess whom you intend, saidLisideius; and without naming them, I ask you if one-of them does not perpetually pay us with Clenches upon Words, and a certain clownish kind of Raillery? If now AnEssayof Dramatick Poesy. and then he does not offer at a Catachresis or Clevelandism, wresting and torturing a Word into another Meaning: In fine, if he be not one of those whom the French would call un mauvais buffon; one who is so much a wellwiller to the Satyr, that he intends, at least, to spare no Man; and though he cannot strike a Blow to hurt any, yet he ought to be punish'd for the Malice of the Action; as our Witches are justly hang'd, because they think themselves to be such: and suffer deservedly for believing they did Mischief, because they meant it. You have describ'd him, said Crites, so exactly, that I am afraid to come after you with my other Extremity of Poetry: He is one of those, who having had some advantage of Education and Converse, knows better than the other what a Poet should be, but puts it into practice more unluckily than any Man; his Style and Matter are every where alike; he is the most calm, peaceable Writer you ever read: He never disquiets your Passions with the least Concernment, but still leaves you in as even a Temper as he found you; he is a very Leveller in Poetry, he creeps along with ten little Words in every Line, and helps out his Numbers with For to, and Unto, and all the pretty Expletives he can sind, till he drags them to the end of another Line; while the Sense is left tir'd half way behind it: He doubly starves all his Verses, sirst, for want of Thought, and then of Expression; his Poetry neither has Wit in it, nor seems to have it; like him in Martial:


27 - An Essay on Dramatick Poesy /

For two Actions equally labour'd and driven on by the Writer, would destroy the Unity of the Poem; it would be no longer one Play, but two: Not but that there may be many Actions in a Play, as Ben. Johnson has observ'd in his Discoveries, but they must be all subservient to the great one, which our Language happily expresses in the Name of Under-plots: Such as in Terence's Eunuch is the difference and reconcilement of Thais and Phædria, which is not the chief Business of the Play, but promotes the Marriage of Chærea and Chremes's Sister, principally intended by the Poet. There ought to be but one Action, says Corneille, that is, one compleat Action which leaves the Mind of the Audience in a full Repose: but this cannot be brought to pass, but by many other imperfect Actions which conduce to it, and hold the Audience in a delightful Suspense of what will be.


28 - An Essay on Dramatick Poesy /

But by pursuing closely one Argument, which is not cloy'd with many Turns, the French have gain'd more liberty for Verse, in which they write: They have leisure to dwell on a Subject which deserves it; and to represent the Passions (which we have acknowledg'd to be the Poet's work) without being hurried from one thing to another, as we are in the Plays of Calderon, which we have seen lately upon our Theaters, under the name of Spanish Plots. I have taken notice but of one Tragedy of ours, whose Plot has that uniformity and unity of Design in it, which I have commended in the French; and that is Rollo, or rather, under the name of Rollo, The Story of Bassianus and Geta in Herodian; there indeed the Plot is neither large nor intricate, but just enough to fill the Minds of the Audience, not to cloy them. Besides, you see it founded upon the truth of History, only the time of the Action is not reduceable to the strictness of the Rules; and you see in some places a little Farce ming'ed, which is below the dignity of the other Parts; and in this all our Poets are extreamly peccant, even Ben AnEssayof Dramatick Poesy. Johnson himself in Sejanus and Catiline has given us this Oleo of a Play, this unnatural Mixture of Comedy and Tragedy, which to me sounds just as ridiculously as the History of David with the merry Humours of Goliah. In Sejanus you may take notice of the Scene betwixt Livia and the Physician, which is a pleasant Satyr upon the artificial helps of Beauty: In Catiline you may see the Parliament of Women; the little Envies of them to one another; and all that passes betwixt Curio and Fulvia: Scenes admirable in their kind, but of an ill mingle with the rest.


29 - An Essay on Dramatick Poesy /

The Words of a good Writer which describe it lively, will make a deeper Impression of Belief in us, than all the Actor can insinuate into us, when he seems to fall dead before us; as a Poet in the Description of a beautiful Garden, or a Meadow, will please our Imagination more than the place it self can please our sight. When we see Death represented, we are convinc'd it is but Fiction; but when we hear it related, our Eyes (the strongest Witnesses) are wanting, which might have undeceiv'd us; and we are all willing to favour the slight when the Poet does not too grosly impose on us. They therefore who imagine these Relations would make no Concernment in the Audience, are deceiv'd, by confounding them with the other, which are of things antecedent to the Play; those are made often in cold Blood (as I may say) to the Audience; but these are warm'd with our Concernments, which were before awaken'd in the Play. What the Philosophers say of Motion, that, when it is once begun, it continues of it self, and will do so to Eternity without some stop put to it, is clearly true on this Occasion; the Soul being already mov'd with the Characters and Fortunes of those imaginary Persons, continues going of its own accord, and we are no more weary to hear what becomes of them when they are not on the Stage, than we are to listen to the News of an absent Mistress. But it is objected, That if one part of the Play may be related, then why not all? I answer, Some parts of the Action are more fit to be represented, some to be related. Corneille says judiciously, that the Poet is not oblig'd to expose to View all particular Actions which conduce to the principal: He ought to select such of them to be seen, which will appear with the greatest AnEssayof Dramatick Poesy. Beauty, either by the magnificence of the Show, or the vehemence of Passions which they produce, or some other Charm which they have in them, and let the rest arrive to the Audience by Narration. 'Tis a great mistake in us to believe the French present no part of the Action on the Stage: Every alteration or crossing of a Design, every new-sprung Passion, and turn of it, is a part of the Action, and much the noblest, except we conceive nothing to be Action till the Players come to Blows; as if the painting of the Heroe's Mind were not more properly the Poet's Work, than the strength of his Body. Nor does this any thing contradict the Opinion of Horace, where he tells us,


30 - An Essay on Dramatick Poesy /

As for his other Argument, that by pursuing one single Theme they gain an Advantage to express and work up the Passions, I wish any Example he could bring from them would make it good: for I confess their Verses are to me the coldest I have ever read: Neither indeed is it possible for them, in the way they take, so to express Passion, as that the Effects of it should appear in the Concernment of an Audience, their Speeches being so many Declamations, which tire us with the Length; so that instead of perswading us to grieve for their imaginary Heroes, we are concern'd for our own trouble, as we are in tedious Visits of bad Company; we are in pain till they are gone. When the French Stage came to be reform'd by Cardinal Richelieu, those long Harangues were introduc'd, to comply with the Gravity of a Churchman. Look upon the Cinna and the Pompey, they are not so properly to be called Plays, as long Discourses of Reason of State: And Polieucte in Matters of Religion is as solemn as the long Stops upon our Organs. Since that time it is grown into a Custom, and their Actors speak by the Hour-glass, like our Parsons; nay, they account it the Grace of their Parts, and think themselves disparaged by the Poet, if they may not twice or thrice in a Play entertain the Audience with a Speech of an hundred Lines. I deny not but this may suit well enough with the French; for as we, who are a more sullen People, come to be diverted at our Plays; so they, who are of an aiery and gay Temper, come hither to make themselves more serious: And this I conceive to be one reason, why Comedies are more pleasing to us, and Tragedies to them. But to speak generally, it cannot be deny'd, that short Speeches and Replies are more apt to move the Passions, and beget Concernment in us, than the other: For it is unnatural for any one in a Gust of Passion, to speak long together; or for another, in the same Condition, to suffer him without Interruption. Grief and Passion are like Floods rais'd in little Brooks by a sudden Rain; they are quickly up, and if the Concernment be pour'd unexpectedly in upon us, it overflows us: But a long sober Shower gives AnEssayof Dramatick Poesy. them leisure to run out as they came in, without troubling the ordinary Current. As for Comedy, Repartee is one of its chiefest Graces; the greatest Pleasure of the Audience is a Chace of Wit kept up on both sides, and swiftly manag'd. And this our Fore-fathers, if not we, have had in Fletcher's Plays, to a much higher Degree of Perfection, than the French Poets can, reasonably, hope to reach.