The old English dramatists — A Closer Reading

Lowell's Critical Method in the Opening

The introductory lecture reveals Lowell's method: he treats plays as literary texts rather than performance scripts. He quotes Webster's Devil's Law-Case to illustrate how a single scene can expose character through dialogue—as when Winifred and Leonora bargain over secrets. Lowell notes that the plot's "involutions of so unpleasant a nature" now seem dated, but he values the "ingenious structure of the scene." This early focus on verbal craft over moral judgment sets the tone for the series.

Webster's World: Horror and Control

In the middle excerpts, Lowell analyzes The White Devil and The Duchess of Malfi, calling Webster's imagination "ghastly" yet powerful. He observes that "hell is naked before it" and compares the effect to a Belgian painting where an angel halts creation. Lowell distinguishes Webster's "fantasy" from serene imagination, noting that his horrors "do move pity and terror strongly." The critic's own language becomes vivid—"vapor of fresh blood and a scent of church-yard mould"—mirroring the plays' atmosphere.

Plot as a Sample of the Era

Lowell uses Webster's Devil's Law-Case as a representative example of Jacobean plotting. He summarizes the intrigue but admits that later acts involve "involutions of so unpleasant a nature" that he only alludes to them. This restraint is typical: Lowell sketches plots quickly, then pivots to thematic or stylistic commentary. He praises Appius and Virginia as "spirited" and "of a truly Roman temper," though he suspects it may be "cast iron." The analysis shows his preference for plays where structure serves character.

Ghosts and the Grotesque

Lowell remarks that ghosts "seem to have formed a considerable part of the population" in these plays, citing Chapman's stage direction where a ghost leads a dance. He contrasts this with Webster's more serious apparitions. The observation is typical of Lowell's dry humor and his attention to stage conventions. He uses such details to argue that the playwrights' power lies not in realism but in a "usurped and illegitimate power" that nonetheless compels belief.

Lowell's lectures reward readers who attend to his asides and comparisons. He assumes familiarity with Shakespeare and Jonson, using them as touchstones. The excerpts show a critic more interested in moral atmosphere than in plot mechanics. A first-time reader of these plays will find Lowell a stimulating, if opinionated, guide—one who values the "still small voice" even amid the bloodshed.

There’s something about Lowell’s lectures on Webster and Ford that lingers—that unsettling beauty in their horror, the way plot and poetry braid together. It reminds me of another old companion, Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist A Popular Illustration of the Principles of Scientific Criticism — Themes and Context, which I read years ago, finding comfort in its precision. Both feel like quiet conversations across decades.