¹ Weitbrecht, Röpe, Piper and others; cf. Piper: Die Nibelungen, I. Theil (Kürschner's Deutsche Nationallitteratur. Bd. 6, Abth., II, p. 184).

² Die Nibelungen im Modernen Drama. Eine Antrittsvorlesung (gehalten den 5 Nov., 1892, am Eidgen. Polytechnikum in Zürich). Zürich, 1892.

¹ Röpe, v. Muth, Bulthaupt, Weitbrecht.

² Emanuel Geibel, Brunhilde: Eine Tragödie aus der Nibelungen Sage. Stuttgart, 1857.

³ F. Hebbel, Die Nibelungen. Trauerspiel. 3 Teile: 1. Der gehörnte Siegfried; 2. Siegfrieds Tod; 3. Kriemhilds Rache. Hamburg, 1862.

⁴ R. Wagner, Der Ring der Niblungen: 1. Das Rheingold; 2. DieWalküre; 3. Siegfried; 4. Die Götterdämmerung. Presented as a whole at Bayreuth, 1876.

⁵ Wilhelm Jordan, Die Nibelunge. 2 Theile: 1^tes Lied, Sigfridssage. Frankfurt, 1869; 2^tes Lied, Hildebrants Heimkehr. Frankfurt, 1875.

⁶ Wm. Morris, The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs. London, 1876.

⁷ Henrik Ibsen, Härmändene paa Helgeland. Christiania, 1858. German: Die Nordische Herrfahrt. Reclam 2633.

¹ It was impossible for the writer to get approximately accurate information of the repertoires of the theatres in Berlin and Munich, but in the two years from 1887 to 1889, though following carefully the plays given in these two capitals, he could find no announcement of the performance of either. Hebbel's Nibelungen was restaged and presented last winter at Berlin, the first time for eight years at least, and probably for a longer period. During the last eight years the writer has chanced upon only one other notice of the performance of these plays—Geibel's in New York, Hebbel's once in Frankfurt, and once in Hannover. Undoubtedly they are presented oftener, but, if very often, one would expect to see more frequent notices of their production. In Vienna, Hebbel's home during the last years of his life, his trilogy is one of the stock plays of the Burgtheater; in fact Prölss, one of Hebbel's most enthusiastic admirers (in his Geschichte des Neueren Dramas, VI, 251), claims that this theatre is the only place where it can be properly performed—a rather dubious compliment in view of the excellent productions of the German classic dramas and Shakespeare in the comparatively small cities of Germany.

² Simrock's translation is one of some thirty German translations of the Nibelungenlied into modern German. It reached its tenth edition in 1856, Geibel's Brunhild appearing in 1857; Simrock in 1889 was in its forty-ninth edition, Geibel in 1890 in its fifth. Simrock's translation passed through thirty-five editions while Hebbel's Nibelungen was passing through three. The large number of editions of the original text and the repeated reprints of these (e. g. Lachmann's has been reprinted eleven times, Zarncke's six) prove still more the popularity of the Nibelungenlied amongst the German people. The Germans cannot, at any rate, be called indifferent to their great poetic treasures.

¹ Robert Prölss, Geschichte des Neueren Dramas, vi, 329.

² Heinrich Bulthaupt, Dramaturgie des Schauspiels. 3rd edition. 1891, III, p. 159 f.

³ R. v. Gottschall, Die Deutsche Nationallitteratur des -19^ten Jahrhunderts. 1891, III, 500.

¹ Cf. Weitbrecht.

² Weitbrecht, p. 36.

³ Weitbrecht, p. 37.

⁴ Röpe, Die Modernen Nibelungendichtungen. Hamburg, 1869.

⁵ Kritische Gänge, II, 369. Tübingen, 1844. Cf. also Freytag: Die Technik des Dramas (seventh edition, 1894), pp. 40; 243 and 244.

¹ E. Raupach, Der Nibelungen Hort. Hamburg, 1834. It was a very popular stage drama at the time of its appearance and remained in the repertoire of the Burgtheater in Vienna till 1857. Cf. Allgem. Zeitung, Beilage 227, 228, Sept. 29 and 30, 1891.

² Cf. Röpe, Bulthaupt and others; also R. v. Muth, Einleitung in das Nibelungenlied, 1877, p. 419 ff.

¹ In his essay on Dante.

² Cf. Günther, Grundzüge der Tragischen Kunst. Berlin, 1885, pp. 106, 449, 450. Butcher, Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art, c. London, 1895, p. 287.

¹ Cf. Günther, p. 107 f.; also Butcher, pp. 288, 289, 308, 309.

¹ Adolf Wilbrandt, Kriemhild. Wien, 1877.

¹ Robt. Waldmüller, Brunhild. Dresden, 1863. Reclam, 511.

² Lachmann, Der Nibelunge Noth, 6282.

¹ Cf. Weitbrecht, pp. 16, 17. Freytag, Technik, p. 247.

sCf. Günther, p. 406.

¹ Ars Poetica, vv. 128-130. Byron (Hints from Horace, vv. 183 ff.) paraphrases thus:

¹ This line of argument applies with equal truth to the dramatization of the modern novel.* Such attempts almost never produce real dramas for the very same reasons; the resulting plays are dialogized stories, generally poorer than their sources and seldom rising above the commonplace. As the dramatic critic, in a recent number of the Critic (April 20, ‘95), said apropos of the dramatization of Trilby, ‘ nobody has ever succeeded or is likely to succeed in really dramatizing a novel.’ This is as true of a great epic, as of the novel. Of course, the novels from which Shakspeare obtained his plots are so different from the modern novel that they disprove nothing above stated (cf. Frey tag, Technik, p. 299).

^∗ Since writing this note the attention of the writer has been called to an essay by Brander Matthews, entitled The Dramatization of Novels in his Studies of the Stage (New York, Harpers, 1894). This essay discusses this subject in detail and, with the knowledge of a recognized authority, establishes conclusively the truth of the above conclusions.

¹ And to these all must be added the tremendous popularity and familiarity of Wagner's operas, which, as dramas pure and simple, fall far short of being a worthy re-creation of the old saga, but yet in which the composer, in the realm of another and that too of the preëminently modern art, music, has given the highest and worthiest modern expression to the pervading spirit, sentiment and passion of the old Germanic Siegfriedsage. It might be well to bear in mind also, that, of the operas constituting the Nibelungen tetralogy, the one generally considered the greatest and most effective, both musically and dramatically, is Die Walküre, the materials for which Wagner found in the crudest state.

² A part of this paper was first read before the Modern Language Club of Yale University. After its reading Dr. Corwin called the attention of the writer to the subjoined passage in Kuno Fischer's Goethes Faust, which is such a direct and complete confirmation of the position above asserted, that a full quotation of the passage in question hardly needs an apology. The quotation follows Wolcott's translation (Manchester, Iowa, 1895), p. 8.

“There are two quite opposite ways in which it is possible to make a mistake in the choice of materials for poems, and thus produce works which have no natural relation to the people for whom they are intended. This is the case when materials are taken which have no previous history in the minds of men of the age; which have not been handed down, felt and lived ….

“The other and opposite way is followed when materials are chosen, which by no means lack a previous history in the hearts of men, which are, in fact, most amply possessed of this essential—subjects which for centuries have occupied the soul and imagination of each succeeding generation; bat which have acquired such an authentic, familiar and inviolable form that we cannot wean ourselves from it, nor do we care to do so; form and matter have become so inseparable that the latter cannot be detached and transformed in the poet's workshop. A subject which has a definite and established form familiar to the whole world should not be remodeled and treated with caprice by the poet. No poet can vie with the Bible in the representation of biblical subjects.*

“Klopstock, when he set his hand to the composition of The Messiah made one of the most notable and most instructive mistakes of this sort in the history of our literature. Yet Klopstock was a true poet, and the spirit of the time was most favorable to his work.

“With Goethe's Faust it is quite different. Here the materials had become familiar to the people through association, but were, at the same time, in a. very rude form (in the original: ungestaltet und roh) as yet. The grand features were, it is true, here and there discernible, but they lay buried in the raw material, being by this restrained as though in a chrysalis.”

The following remarks by Andrew Lang in his Introductory Essay to Le Morte D'Arthur, vol. III of Sommer's edition (London, 1891), are also to the point. In the beginning of the essay he speaks of the familiarity of Malory's Morte D'Arthur to the English people and of its great popularity. Later, in speaking of Tennyson's Idylls of the King, he says the following:

“The Idylls, on the other side, have a purpose, a purpose which the ancient romance unavoidably suggests, but which is not of a piece with the legend. New wine is put into old bottles. It may be doubted whether a poet is well advised when he deliberately treats the theme of another age in the spirit of to-day. … Or is this feeling (i. e., of the inconsistency of modern versions of romance) only part of our haunting archæological pedantry which, content with the heroes in the garb of their day, is vexed to find them familiar with our own involved speech, and more involved thought?”—Pp. XXII, XXIII. “Admirable as his (Tennyson's) words are for wisdom and music, and imperishable in our memories, the voice is not the voice of the Arthur whom we know” (p. XXIII).

^∗ Milton's Paradise Lost is the exception which proves the rule. For, it is generally conceded, that those parts of that epic show the greatest poetic power and beauty which are not based upon the biblical narrative, as the whole conception of Satan and his host with their councils and their machinations, but have been derived from Biblical‘hints, to which he gave such marvelous expansion.’

¹ Cf. Erich Schmidt, Lessing, II, 121.

² Freytag, p. 247 f.; cf. also Vischer, Aesthetik, Vol. III, pp. 1421, 1422.

¹ It is interesting to note that Shakspere's greatest dramas are not his chronicle histories, but those drawn from the simple, crude novels and tales, which he could shape with unrestricted poetic license (cf. Freytag, p. 38). Of his histories those are generally considered weakest and poorest in which he followed his historical sources most closely, e. g., Henry VI. and Henry VIII.; those are regarded as his best in which he gave freest play to his creative imagination, e. g., Henry IV., Parts 1 and 2. As Ten Brink said (Lectures on Shakspere, New York, 1895, pp. 158, 159): “In reality politics and patriotism—not aesthetics alone—filled a very important part in the historical dramas of that time, and plays of this kind cannot be judged from the point of view of strict dramatic theory. The necessity of paying altogether unusual regard to the underlying story, the refractory character of that story, the abundance of facts and figures, the multitude of inevitable premises—all this does not, in many ways, allow the poet that symmetrical working out and transparent combination of motives, that intensifying of characteristics; above all, that concentration of dramatic interest, which theory justly demands of the drama” (cf. also Alois Brandl, Shakspere, Berlin, 1894, pp. 59 ff., 212 ff.; Günther, pp. 348, 349; Barrett Wendell, William Shakspere, New York, 1894, pp. 59, 212). Apparent exceptions are the three great Roman tragedies, Julius Cœsar, Coriolanus, Antony and Cleopatra. It would not be begging the question, nor an evasion of the point at issue, to say simply in regard to these, that everything is possible to the supreme genius, such as Shakspere was. But that is not at all necessary. It is to be urged in explanation of these seeming exceptions, that the period of their composition was particularly favorable for the creation of the first two, as Julius Cœsar may be but the poetic public expression of the national feeling of that period, and Coriolanus the reflection of a great contemporaneous political event (Brandl, pp. 148, 149; 167, 168). While Cleopatra in herself is a most grateful theme for dramatic treatment, so that ‘she has furnished the subject of two Latin, sixteen French, six English, and at least four Italian tragedies’(Rolfe, Antony and Cleopatra, Introduction, p. 22, from Mrs. Jameson's Characteristics of Women). Then it might be said, that the history of Rome is a source unusually rich in tragic conflicts, eminently adapted for dramatic representation, as Vischer claims (Aesthetik, Vol. III, pp. 1421, 1422). But, entirely apart from even these considerations, it is to be noted that, in the first place, Plutarch has colored his characters and incidents with a view to poetic and dramatic effect. And, in the second place, a careful investigation and detailed comparison of the three dramas with their sources, would probably show that many, if not the majority, of the strongest scenes and incidents are those for which Shakspere found his materials in Plutarch, either in crudest form or only hinted at. Which is the case in Coriolanus, and particularly so in the relations between Marc Antony and Cleopatra as represented by the poet, and in the brilliant dramatic portrayal of the latter (cf. Brandl, pp. 171, 187; also Wright's and Rolfe's editions of those two plays in their Introductions). In the third place, Shakspeare has dealt freely with his materials, wherever it suited his purpose, unmindful of his Plutarch, and has ‘thrown a rich mantle of poetry over all, which is often wholly his own.’ Even in Julius Cœsar (notwithstanding Trench's statement, quoted in Wright's edition, p. xlv, that “It is hardly an exaggeration to say that the whole play …. is to be found in Plutarch “), he has so changed his source that, e. g., in the case of Cicero, ‘the vain senator of Plutarch has become in Shakspere a complete caricature, which has probably led many a modern historian to an unjust conception of him’ (cf. Brandl, p. 147).

Schiller's historical dramas are peculiarly interesting in this connection. The greatest, Wallenstein, deals with a hero whose real character and inner purposes are still a matter of controversy amongst historians. The same fact is true of Maria Stuart; it was true of Die Jungfrau von Orleans at Schiller's time, as well as of Don Carlos and of Fiesko, to a certain extent, so that Schiller, in almost every case, chose an interesting, unknown and really dubious character, and hence was free to shape his materials as suited his own fancy and dramatic purpose. Even in these, those are the particularly dramatic and powerful parts for which he received only the slightest or else no hints at all in his historic sources, e. g., the character of Posa and his famous interview with Philipp; the great scene (Act. III, scene 4) between Mary Stuart and Elizabeth, and the whole character and episode of Mortimer; the episode of Thekla and Max in the Wallenstein. For Wilhelm Tell modern investigation shows that there is no historical foundation at all; but, anyway, as Bellermann (Schiller's Dramen, Zweiter Theil, p. 346) says: “The power of this poetic creation lies rather in the individual, sublime and agreeable, affecting or overpowering pictures which are put before us as well as in the noble spirit which pervades and illuminates it than in the bold outline of the whole.”

¹ Cf., for this entire paragraph, Günther, p. 393.

¹ Cf. Butcher, p. 336 f.

¹ Cf. Butcher, p. 332 f.; Günther, pp. 86, 197, 344, 345.

¹ Of the 78 tragedies attributed to Aeschylus only 28 are taken from the poems dealing with the Trojan War; and only 3 from the Iliad and the same number from the Odyssey. To Sophocles are attributed 86 tragedies, of which 44 are from the Trojan Epic Cycle, but only one is based upon the Iliad and 3 upon the Odyssey. Euripides found in the Trojan cyclic poems subjects for 28 of his 68 tragedies; only one (1) was taken from the Iliad and one (1)—about which, however, there is some uncertainty—from the Odyssey.

² Cf. Aristotle, Poetics, XXIII, 4; XIII, 5.

³ Aristotle, XIV, 4 f.; cf. Welcker; Butcher, p. 331.

¹ Welcker, p. 1.

¹ Günther, pp. 85, 86.

² Welcker, p. 91.

³ Welcker, p. 92.

⁴ Cf. sup., 3; cf. Freytag, p. 123 f., p. 144; Günther, p. 58.

⁵ Cf. Welcker, II, pp. 459, 460.

¹ Butcher, p. 332; Freytag, p. 135; Günther, pp. 192, 197, 215, 232.

² It was impossible to secure for this discussion the other epics, viz.: G. Pfarrius, Chriemhildens Rache, ein erzählendes Gedicht.

W. Wegener, Siegfried und Chriemhild: Eine poetische Gestaltung der Nibelungensage, 1867.

Werner Hahn, Kriemhilde: Ein Volksgesang der Deutschen. Yet, from the fact that they receive such scanty mention, wherever they are mentioned, and that no mention of them at all can be found in the standard histories of German literature, it does not seem wrong to conclude that they hardly deserve consideration in this discussion.

¹ An extreme criticism of Jordan's work is to be found in v. Muth's Einleitung in das Nibelungenlied, which, with all its humorously extravagant zeal, does strike right at the greatest weaknesses of that production. He says (p. 416): W. Jordans Nibelunge sind ein widerliches Product formgewandten Raffinements; bedenkt man dass dieses Werk, 33000 Langzeilen lang d.h. 4 mal so lang als der Nibelunge Not, um die Hälfte länger als der Parzival oder so lang wie ein Dutzend fünfactiger Trauerspiele, in einer Sprache und Form, die nie gesprochen und nie gebraucht wurde, ritterliche Vorstellungen des XIV. und Rohheit des IV. Jahrhunderts, olympisches Göttergeplauder und mittelalterliches Hexenwesen zu einem unerträglichen Gemisch zusammen würfelt, so wird der affectierte Beifall, den es vielfach gefunden, halb unbegreiflich; dass sein Autor Prätension erhebt, den Gedanken und die Form verlorener Dichtung wiederzugeben, ist lächerlich; dass der alte Hildebrand visionär von Locomotiven, Blitzableitern und Telegraphen träumt, ist abgeschmackt; dass aber die Recken der Vorzeit als moderne “Culturkämpfer “dargestellt werden und Hildebrand der Stammvater des Zollernhauses sein soll, ist nicht Patriotismus, auch nicht Chauvinismus oder Wohldienerei, sondern das ist, … die ganze elende und gemeine Marktschreierei, die sich nicht entblödet Dinge und Motive, die zu ernst sind für solche Entwürdigung, für den immer gähnenden Geldsack auszubeuten, und die darum einmal nach Gebühr gebrandmarkt werden soll (cf. also Burckhard, Allgan. Zeitung, Beilage, Nos. 227 and 228, Sept. 29, 30, 1891).

For a different, laudatory criticism, cf. Röpe, p. 106. In view of such criticism as Röpe's, Jordan would have good reason to pray to be delivered from his friends.

¹ Deut. Nat'llitt. d. 19^ten Jhts., Vol. 3, p. 446.

¹ Van Dyke, The Poetry of Tennyson (3rd. Ed.), New York, 1892, p. 162.

² Littledale, Essays on Lord Tennyson's Idylls of the King, London, and New York, 1893, p. 11.

³ Gurteen, The Arthurian Epic, New York, 1895, p. 307.

⁴ Tennyson's Idylls and Arthurian Story, New York, 1894, p. 316.

¹ Stopford Brooke, Tennyson, New York, 1894, pp. 346, 347.

² Cf. p. 2.

³ Cf. p. 88.

⁴ Cf. p. 308.

⁵ Introduction to Sommer's edition of Morte Darthur, London, 1891, III, XXII.

¹ Cf. Maccallum, pp. 93, 94.

² The Sources of Le Morte Darthur (London, 1891, III, 294).

³ Maccallum, p. 289.

¹ Cf. above, p. 235, note 2.

² Brooke, p. 266 ff.

³ Brooke, p. 331.

^∗ It was impossible to verify these, except the work of Werner, which is based upon. the historical account of Attila's last year of life and not upon the Nibelungensage.