The School for Scandal, Richard Brinsley Sheridan [i am reading a book .TXT] 📗

1879, with a preface, in which he declared that Sheridan’s comedy, was particularly French, nay, even Parisian, and that it is absolutely harmless and fitted exactly for use in teaching in schools for girls. Oddly enough this is the exact reverse of the opinion of the French critics of a century ago. In 1788 the auction and screen scenes had been introduced into a little piece called the Deux Neveux; a year later a translation in French by Delille, with the permission, apparently, of Sheridan himself, was published in London. Certain episodes were utilized in the Portraits de Famille, the Deux Cousins and Valsain et Florville; and finally, in 1789, a version of the whole play by Pluteau was acted as L’Homme Sentimental⁠—but the subject was too risky, and the scenes were too broad for the fastidious taste of the Parisians. Even Grimm was shocked by it and one would think it took much to shock Grimm. A second adaptation was produced at the Theatre Francais; it was called the Tartuffe des Moeurs. A few years later, yet another version, L’Ecole du Scandale., by two melodramatic writers, Crosnier and Jouslin de la Salle, was acted at the Porte St.-Martin Theatre, with the pathetic Mme. Dorval as Milady Tizlé. Oddly enough it was Mme. Dorval’s husband, Merle, who was the cause of the first performance in France of the School for Scandal in English by English actors. Merle was one of the managers of the Port St.-Martin Theatre in 1822; and he arranged for a series of performances by the company of the Brighton Theatre, then managed by Mr. Penley. The British comedians opened their season with Othello; but it was only seven years after Waterloo, and Shakespeare was stormily received. For the second performance Sheridan took Shakespeare’s place, and the School for Scandal was announced for Friday, August 2, 1822. But the day was unlucky, and the mob which took possession of the theatre would not allow the English comedy to be acted at all. It is interesting to note the change which took place in France in the short space of five years. In 1827, when the Covent Garden company appeared at the Odeon Theatre, they met with a cordial welcome; and they began their season with Sheridan’s other comedy, the Rivals.

The Germans were not behind the French in the enjoyment of the School for Scandal. Shröder, the actor and author, went from Vienna to London⁠—no small journey, in the eighteenth century⁠—expressly for the purpose of seeing it acted. He understood English well, and attended every performance of the piece while he was in England. On his return to Vienna, he produced an adaptation⁠—for it is such, and not a translation, though the spirit of the original is well preserved⁠—which has held the German stage ever since. The texture of the School for Scandal, its solidity of situation, its compact and easily comprehensible plot, and its ceaseless play of wit, “a sort of El Dorado of wit,” as Moore calls it, “where the precious metal is thrown about by all classes as carelessly as if they had not the least idea of its value,” these were all qualities sure to commend it to German audiences as to French. Macready records himself as having seen in Venice an Italian version of the play that by Carpani, probably which could hardly have followed the original as closely as was to be desired; but the strength of the situations and the contrast of the characters would always carry the piece through in any language and in spite of any alterations. There are translations of the School for Scandal in many other languages. In 1877 it was acted with success in Dutch at the Hague; and in 1884 a Gujarati version, adapted to modern Parsee life by Mr. K. N. Kabrajee, was produced, also with success, at the Esplanade Theatre in Bombay.

A Portrait

Addressed to Mrs. Crewe, With the Comedy of the School for Scandal

By R. B. Sheridan, Esq.

Tell me, ye prim adepts in Scandal’s school,
Who rail by precept, and detract by rule,
Lives there no character, so tried, so known,
So deck’d with grace, and so unlike your own,
That even you assist her fame to raise,
Approve by envy, and by silence praise!
Attend!⁠—a model shall attract your view⁠—
Daughters of calumny, I summon you!
You shall decide if this a portrait prove,
Or fond creation of the Muse and Love.
Attend, ye virgin critics, shrewd and sage,
Ye matron censors of this childish age,
Whose peering eye and wrinkled front declare
A fixt antipathy to young and fair;
By cunning, cautious; or by nature, cold,
In maiden madness, virulently bold!⁠—
Attend! ye skilled to coin the precious tale,
Creating proof, where innuendos fail!
Whose practised memories, cruelly exact,
Omit no circumstance, except the fact!⁠—
Attend, all ye who boast⁠—or old or young⁠—
The living libel of a slanderous tongue!
So shall my theme as far contrasted be,
As saints by fiends, or hymns by calumny.
Come, gentle Amoret (for ’neath that name,
In worthier verse is sung thy beauty’s fame);
Come⁠—for but thee who seeks the Muse? and while
Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile,
With timid grace, and hesitating eye,
The perfect model, which I boast, supply:⁠—
Vain Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch create
Of her, or slightest charm couldst imitate⁠—
Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace
The faintest wonder of her form and face⁠—
Poets would study the immortal line,
And Reynolds own his art subdued by thine;
That art, which well might added lustre give
To Nature’s best and Heaven’s superlative:
On Granby’s cheek might bid new glories rise,
Or point a purer beam from Devon’s eyes!
Hard is the task to shape that beauty’s praise,
Whose judgment scorns the homage flattery pays!
But praising Amoret we cannot err,
No tongue o’ervalues Heaven, or flatters her!
Yet she, by Fate’s perverseness⁠—she alone
Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise her own!
Adorning Fashion, unadorn’d by dress,
Simple from taste, and not from carelessness;
Discreet in gesture, in deportment