I," said Theodore, "for the delightful trio which Capuzzi, the
Pyramid-doctor, and the somewhat shudder-creating little abortion,
Pitichinaccio, form; and, moreover, for the wonderful way in which
Salvator Rosa--who never appears as the hero of the tale, but always as
an auxiliary--conforms to his character as it is described, and also as
it appears in his own works."

"Ottmar," said Sylvester, "has held chiefly to the adventurous and
enterprising side of his character, and given us less of what was grave
and gloomy in him. _A propos_ of this, I think of the famous sonnet in
which, allegorising on his own name--Salvator--he utters his deep
indignation at his enemies and persecutors who accused him of
plundering from older writers in his poetry, which, indeed, is all
ruggedness, and deficient in interior connectedness."

"But," said Lothair, "to return to Ottmar's Novella. The principal
fault which I have to find with it is that, instead of a story rounding
itself into a whole in all its parts, he has merely given us a series
of pictures, although they are often delightful enough."

"Can I do otherwise than fully agree with you?" said Ottmar. "Still,
you will all admit that it requires very skilful navigation to keep
clear of the rocks upon which I have run."

"Perhaps," said Sylvester, "the rocks in question are more dangerous to
dramatic writers. Nothing--at least in my opinion--is more annoying
than, instead of a Comedy, in which all that happens is necessarily and
closely attached to the thread which runs through the piece, and should
appear to be indispensably necessary to the picture represented, to see
merely a series of arbitrary incidents, or even unconnected, detached
situations; and indeed, the ablest dramatic author of recent times has
set the example of this thoughtless (or 'frivolous') treatment of
Comedy. Does the 'Pagen-streiche,' for example, consist of anything but
a series of ludicrous situations strung together apparently by chance,
and at random? In former days, when, on the whole (at all events as
regards the drama), one cannot complain of the want of due seriousness,
every writer of a Comedy took much pains to construct a regular plot,
and out of that plot all the comic element, the drollery, nay, the very
absurdity, duly evolved itself, of itself; because it seemed the
natural thing for it to do. Juenger (although he but too often seems
very 'flat') always did this, and even Brenner--utterly p