al closing in a final act of light
comedy. The amalgamation, in the acting edition of "Richard III.," of
parts of "Henry V." and "Henry VI.," and the suppression of the
historical ending after Richard's death, were changes made by Colley
Cibber, which have stood the test of time, and have made the play a
traditional success whenever well acted. In each case experience
showed that the following up of a scene of tragic intensity by either
comedy or narrative made the scene drag. In other words, it was an
_anti-climax_.

It is noticeable, by the by, that these instances of clumsy construction
and consequent alteration occur most frequently in Shakespeare's
historic dramas, where he was fettered by familiar facts, and thought
less of the play than of the chronicle. Such plays of his as deal with
popular legend or stories, already polished by tradition into poetic
justice, and moulded by instinct into a dramatic form, have suffered
much less in the adaptation; some, such as "Midsummer Night's Dream,"
"As You Like It," hardly needing alteration. While I do not suppose
that in these or any other play Shakespeare consciously worked on any
philosophic principle of construction, previously thought out, it is
evident that his artistic instinct, left to itself, prevented his
making any serious mistakes in technique, a matter which has advanced
considerably since his day. I believe that, had Shakespeare lived
to-day, he would have written much more perfectly constructed acting
plays, while at the same time his vast knowledge, or rather lightning
appreciation of the various phases of human nature, would have been
just as great. When he wrote, the English drama was in its infancy, but
three centuries of actors, managers, scene painters, and carpenters
have made great advances in technical experience since those days; and
no genius, however great in the essentials of painting the passions,
can to-day attain success if ignorant of the technical secrets of
managing scenes. We have noticed the changes made in "Richard" and the
"Merchant of Venice," to avoid the anti-climax. Let us take a modern
stock play, the "Lady of Lyons," to illustrate the opposite of dramatic
construction. The first act ends with Claude scornfully rejected by
Pauline, burning for revenge, offered a chance, ready to grasp it. Down
goes the drop. The second act closes with his revenge almost completed,
his remorse beginning. He is _going_ to be married--_not married y