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So it is with Shaw, with Synge, with Hauptmann, with Brieux. Even if their plays are written in prose, these men are still "makers," and the prose play may be as highly subjective in mood, as definitely individual in phrasing, as full of atmosphere, as if it were composed in verse.
The first four lines of the following passage, taken from An Old Pain, might fittingly apply to a personality like that of Synge: I hold the mind is the imprisoned soul, And all our aspirations are its own Struggles and strivings for a golden goal, That wear us out like snow men at the thaw. And we shall make our Heaven where we have sown Our purple longings.
He never talked, he only listened. I never got much out of him. I never got to the real Synge. I was never conscious of what he felt. Sometimes I felt that there was nothing in him. I never knew him respond. I never knew him do or say anything to suggest what he was in himself." When I hear these phrases, I know that those who utter them really met Synge.
Shaw is noted for his power of "investing modern conversation with vivacity and point." J.M. Synge has won distinction for presenting the great elemental forces that underlie the actions of primitive human beings. The playwrights are making the drama perform some of the functions that have been filled by the novel.
A long-forgotten fragment of old English verse began to haunt him Hark! the raven flaps hys wing In the briered dell belowe, Hark! the dethe owl loude doth synge To the night maers as thaie goe. "Now, what put that stuff in my head?" he said as he turned impatiently from the window.
Governmental opposition notwithstanding emigration from Scotland to Ireland appears to have continued steadily, and after the Revolution of 1688 there seems to have been a further increase. Archbishop Synge estimated that by 1715 not less than 50,000 Scottish families had settled in Ulster during these twenty-seven years.
Flora, just twenty, was extraordinarily alone in the world so alone that she had no natural chaperon, no one to stay with but a mercenary stranger, Mrs. Hammond Synge, the sister-in-law of one of the young men I had just seen. She had lots of friends, but none of them nice: she kept picking up impossible people. The Floyd-Taylors, with whom she had been at Boulogne, were simply horrid.
Synge brought us into his kitchen and gave the men a glass of whisky all round, and a half-glass to me because I was a boy though at that time and to this day I can drink as much as two men and not be the worse of it. We were some time in the kitchen, then one of the men said we should be going. I said it would not be right to go without saying a word to Mr. Synge.
She has seven long years of joy and then accepts her fate in the calm, triumphant way of the old heroic times. Yeats's plays reflect the childlike superstitions and lively imagination of his country. He loves the fairies, the dreams of eternal youth, the symbolizing of things of the spirit by lovely things of earth. His plays are poetical, fanciful, and romantic. John Millington Synge.
William Johnstone, Esq. 16. Synge Tottenham. 17. William Spry, Esq. 18. George Gillman. 19. Frederick Haldimand, jr. 20. Guy Johnstone. Lot. No. Alexander John Scott. 2. Dr. Robert Bell. 3. Thomas Hutchinson, Esq. 4. John Collins, Esq. 5. John Irving, jr., Esq. 6. John Desbruyeres. Esq. 7. Francis Greenfield. 8. Daniel Carleton. 9. Thomas Smelt, Esq. 10. Richard Shorne. 11. George Fead. 12.
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