ven by Rosset are
so full that there can be no uncertainty in the matter. Indeed, in some
of his statements, as in his account of the first meeting between the
lovers, Rosset probably supplies facts unrecorded by the historians of
the period.

From a comparison of these more or less contemporary records it is
evident that, whatever actual source Chapman may have used, he has given
in many respects a faithful portrait of the historical Bussy D'Ambois.
It happened that at the time of Bussy's death the Duke of Anjou, his
patron, was in London, laying ineffective siege to the hand of
Elizabeth. This coincidence may have given wider currency in England to
Bussy's tragic story than would otherwise have been the case. But a
quarter of a century later this adventitious interest would have
evaporated, and the success of Chapman's play would be due less to its
theme than to its qualities of style and construction. To these we must
therefore now turn.

With Chapman's enthusiasm for classical literature, it was natural that
he should be influenced by classical models, even when handling a
thoroughly modern subject. His Bussy is, in certain aspects, the _miles
gloriosus_ of Latin drama, while in the tragic crisis of his fate he
demonstrably borrows, as is shown in this edition for the first time,
the accents of the Senecan Hercules on Mount Oeta (cf. notes on v, iv,
100 and 109). Hence the technique of the work is largely of the
semi-Senecan type with which Kyd and his school had familiarized the
English stage. Thus Bussy's opening monologue serves in some sort as a
Prologue; the narrative by the _Nuntius_ in Act II, i, 35-137, is in the
most approved classical manner; an _Umbra_ or Ghost makes its regulation
entrance in the last Act, and though the accumulated horrors of the
closing scenes violate every canon of classical art, they had become
traditional in the semi-Senecan type of play, and were doubtless highly
acceptable to the audiences of the period. But while the Senecan and
semi-Senecan methods had their dangers, their effect on English
dramatists was in so far salutary that they necessitated care in
plot-construction. And it is doubtful whether Chapman has hitherto
received due credit for the ingenuity and skill with which he has woven
into the texture of his drama a number of varied threads. Bussy's life
was, as has been shown, crowded with incidents, and the final
catastrophe at La Coutanciere had no direct relation wit