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HERNANI
| This
document was originally published in The Drama: Its
History, Literature and Influence on Civilization, vol. 9.
ed. Alfred Bates. London: Historical Publishing Company, 1906.
pp. 20-23. |
A fourth play was now written, one of the most
famous in dramatic annals--Hernani, ou l'Honneur Castillan.
It was accepted by the censor and manager, and was first presented
on Saturday night, February 25, 1830. Hugo announced that he would
employ no claque
or hired applauders, a customary practice in French theatres. But
his partisans, roused for the conflict, assembled in full force.
They wore red badges with the Spanish word
hierro--iron--which Hugo himself had distributed. They were
led by the enthusiastic Théophile Gautier, who had arrayed himself
in extravagant style for the occasion--green trousers and crimson
waistcoat, above which rose his long, yellow leonine mane. The
Classics were not less numerous, and recalled their previous
victories. The boxes were filled with persons distinguished in rank,
letters or art, who joined in the tumult which arose as the play
proceeded. The disorder proceeded from cries to blows, but Hugo's
party rejoiced in a virtual, if not decisive, victory. The press
generally condemned the play, but it was repeated night after night
for two months. The bitter contest continued, often with serious
outbreaks. In the end there was hardly a line that had not been the
object of applause or hisses, or both. But the Romantics had won the
right of having their new style of plays heard without
molestation.
What now was the real character of this hotly contested drama? It
is no longer familiar even on the French stage, but it has survived
in the Italian opera Ernani. The story is entirely
fictitious, this being a characteristic on which Hugo prided himself
in all his great works. Don Carlos is intended to suggest the
Emperor Charles V, but no incident in this illustrious sovereign's
career bears any resemblance to the story here presented. Ruy Gomez,
a grand example of the proud Spanish nobility, has, in spite of his
advanced age, fallen deeply in love with his beautiful niece, Doña
Sol; but she has given her youthful affection to the mysterious
bandit, Hernani. The king himself has also felt the power of her
charms and seeks her for his own. What more striking contrast can be
presented than that among the lovers--the king, the noble, the
bandit--emphasized by the differences in age and rank? Hernani comes
into the power of Ruy Gomez, who spares his life on receiving his
hunting-horn, with the pledge that the bandit shall take his own
life whenever he hears that horn. The nobleman and bandit, seeking
revenge against the king, form a conspiracy. The king, however, is
elected Roman emperor, and is transformed in character by the honor.
He surprises the conspirators, but with gracious magnanimity pardons
their crime. Hernani is found to be a noble who had been unjustly
deprived of his rank and possessions. They are restored to him with
the title Don Juan of Aragon. The emperor has yielded his claim to
Doña Sol, and she is wedded to her lover. But Ruy Gomez is
implacable, and in the midst of their rapture, after the wedding
feast, Hernani hears, from outside, the sound of the fatal horn. The
poison, prepared by Ruy Gomez, is at hand. Hernani's honor has been
pledged, and even though he sacrifices love as well as life, he must
keep his word. He drinks from the fatal cup, but his wife drains the
same, and they die in an ecstasy of devotion and self-sacrifice. To
this powerful climax is no doubt largely due the decisive victory
which finally ended the long vexed controversy between the Classic
and Romantic schools of dramatists and novelists.
Few effects have ever been produced on the stage which exceed in
power and pathos the climax of this great tragedy. No more thrilling
catastrophe can be imagined than the swift plunge from the bliss of
perfect happiness and security which the newly-wedded pair were
entering and enjoying down to the fearful alternative of death or
dishonor, forcibly signalled by the startling note of the fatal
horn. But the abiding popularity of the play, when the storm of its
launching had subsided, was due to its swiftness in action, the
lyrical beauty of its poetry and the enchanting pictures of youthful
love and fidelity, emphasized rather than destroyed by the
heartrending catastrophe.
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