dramas, gradually and inevitably developed into the more subtle, the more lengthy dialogue, which itself approached more and more nearly to monologue, of the later ones. In a Balcony, written eight years later than A Soul’s Tragedy, has more affinity with it, in form at least, than with any other of the plays.  But while the situation there was purely intellectual and moral, it is here passionate and highly-wrought, to a degree never before reached, except in the crowning scene of Pippa Passes.  We must go to the greatest among the Elizabethans to exceed that; we must turn to Le Roi s’amuse to equal this.

The situation is, in one sense, extremely subtle; in another, remarkably simple.  The action takes place within a few hours, on a balcony at night.  Norbert and Constance are two lovers.  Norbert is in the service of a certain Queen, to whom he has, by his diplomatic skill and labour, rendered great services.  His aim, all the while, though unknown, as he thinks, to her, has been the hope of winning Constance, the Queen’s cousin and dependant.  He is now about to claim her as his recompense; but Constance, fearing for the result, persuades him, reluctant though he is, to ask in a roundabout way, so as to flatter or touch the Queen.  He over-acts his part.  The Queen, a heart-starved and now ageing woman, believes that he loves her, and responds to him with the passion of a long-thwarted nature.  She announces the wonderful news, with more than the ecstasy of a girl, to Constance.  Constance resolves to resign her lover, for his good and the Queen’s, and, when he appears, she endeavours to make him understand and enter into her plot.  But he cannot and will not see it.  In the presence of the Queen he declares his love for Constance, and for her alone.  The Queen goes out, in white silence.  The lovers embrace in new knowledge and fervour of love.  Measured steps are heard within, and we know that the guard is approaching.

Each of the three characters is admirably delineated.  Norbert is a fine, strong, solid, noble character, without subtlety or mixture of motives.  He loves Constance:  he knows that his love is returned:  he is resolved to win her hand.  From first to last he is himself, honest, straightforward, single-minded, passionate; presenting the strongest contrast to Constance’s feminine over-subtlety.  Constance is more, very much more, of a problem:  “a character,” as Mr. Wedmore has admirably said, “peculiarly wily for goodness, curiously rich in resource for unalloyed and inexperienced virtue.”  Does her proposal to relinquish Norbert in favour of the Queen show her to have been lacking in love for him?  It has been said, on the one hand, that her act was “noble and magnanimous,” on the other hand, that the act proved her nature to be “radically insincere and inconstant.”  Probably the truth lies between these two extremes.  Her love, we cannot doubt, was true and intense up to the measure