itable; an action taken at the crisis, with
no redundancies however interesting, no complications however
suggestive, no irrelevances however beautiful--but plain, intense,
vigorous, and splendid with nothing but its own essential force. Nor can
there be any doubt that Racine's view of what a drama should be has been
justified by the subsequent history of the stage. The Elizabethan
tradition has died out--or rather it has left the theatre, and become
absorbed in the modern novel; and it is the drama of crisis--such as
Racine conceived it--which is now the accepted model of what a
stage-play should be. And, in this connexion, we may notice an old
controversy, which still occasionally raises its head in the waste
places of criticism--the question of the three unities. In this
controversy both sides have been content to repeat arguments which are
in reality irrelevant and futile. It is irrelevant to consider whether
the unities were or were not prescribed by Aristotle; and it is futile
to ask whether the sense of probability is or is not more shocked by the
scenic representation of an action of thirty-six hours than by one of
twenty-four. The value of the unities does not depend either upon their
traditional authority or--to use the French expression--upon their
_vraisemblance_. Their true importance lies simply in their being a
powerful means towards concentration. Thus it is clear that in an
absolute sense they are neither good nor bad; their goodness or badness
depends upon the kind of result which the dramatist is aiming at. If he
wishes to produce a drama of the Elizabethan type--a drama of
comprehension--which shall include as much as possible of the varied
manifestations of human life, then obviously the observance of the
unities must exercise a restricting and narrowing influence which would
be quite out of place. On the other hand, in a drama of crisis they are
not only useful but almost inevitable. If a crisis is to be a real
crisis it must not drag on indefinitely; it must not last for more than
a few hours, or--to put a rough limit--for more than a single day; in
fact, the unity of time must be preserved. Again, if the action is to
pass quickly, it must pass in one place, for there will be no time for
the movement of the characters elsewhere; thus the unity of place
becomes a necessity. Finally, if the mind is to be concentrated to the
full upon a particular crisis, it must not be distracted by side issues;
the