istorical original, who must
have been a strong and full-blooded character, with just that touch of
mystery which nature always wears to whomsoever gazes deeply upon her.
That subtile intercoiling of antagonistic traits, which in a man could
never coexist, is to be found in many historic women of the
Renaissance--exquisite, dangerous creatures, half-doves, half-serpents,
half-Clytemnestra, half-Venus, whose full-throbbing passion now made
them soft and tender, over-brimming with loveliness, now fierce and
imperious, their outraged pride revelling in vengeance and blood. If
Bjoernson could have fathomed the depth and complexity of the historical
Mary Stuart to the extent that Swinburne has done, he would, no doubt,
also have devised a more effective conclusion to his play. There is no
dramatic climax, far less a tragic one, in the dethronement of Mary, and
the proclamation by John Knox, which is chiefly an assertion of popular
sovereignty, and the triumph of the Presbyterian Church. The declaration
of the final chorus, that

"Evil shall be routed
And weakness must follow,
The might of truth shall pierce
To the last retreat of gloom,"

seems to me rather to muddle than to clarify the situation. There is a
wavering and uncertain sound in it which seems inappropriate to a
triumphant strain, when the organist naturally turns on the full force
of his organ. If (as is obvious) the Queen represents the evil, or at
least the weakness, which has been routed, it would appear that she
ought to have been painted in quite different colors.

Bjoernson's next dramatic venture, which rejoices to this day in an
unabated popularity, was the two-act comedy, "The Newly Married" (_De
Nygifte_). Goethe once made the remark that he was not a good dramatist,
because his nature was too conciliatory. Without intending
disparagement, I am inclined to apply the same judgment to Bjoernson. His
sunny optimism shrinks from irreconcilable conflicts and insoluble
problems; and in his desire to reconcile and solve, he occasionally is
in danger of wrenching his characters out of drawing and muddling their
motives. Half a dozen critics have already called attention to the
ambiguity of Mathilde's position and intentions in "The Newly Married."
That she loves Axel, the husband, is clear; and the probability is that
she meant to avenge herself upon him for having before his marriage used
her as a decoy, when the real object of his attentio