Dante, but there is not the humanity. Undeniably, the English poet is
happy in phrase and imagery, but his genius is not so dramatic as it
is poetic; he has some of the great lyrical feeling of Tennyson, and
he has that which distinguishes the poet from the dramatist--the
power to _describe_ situation. One cannot deny the appeal of his
girl-Francesca, nor the beauty of many of his haunting lines; but no
warm impression of the situation is gained, and the characters are
peculiarly inactive at inopportune times. Mr. Phillips's talent
was predominantly undramatic; he was too much the poet to allow his
feeling to be guided by historical material. Yet, as acted, the play
was charmingly simple.

On the other hand, D'Annunzio, in his drama, saturates himself with
the history of Italy. In bulk, his play has not the slightest claim
to simplicity; the main object of the dramatist seemed to have been
to overweight the scenes with the licentious and rude Italy of the
thirteenth century; extraneous side-issues burden the progress of
the plot. Yet D'Annunzio has taken care that this does not affect his
central theme. On the stage, the scenes appear cumbersome, and the
action moves slowly; but, after analyzing the book, it may be claimed
for this "Francesca da Rimini," that it reflects the age in which the
tragedy occurred. Much artistic construction is shown in the contrast
of the Polenta and Malatesta families, and, repellent as he is at
times, D'Annunzio has moments of great poetic fervour; his fire swings
forth in many of _Francesca's_ speeches, that alternate with the
languor of her symbolic nature.

That his drama on Francesca was definitely constructed for theatrical
effect, was openly avowed by Marion Crawford. At the beginning of the
French version made for Mme. Bernhardt, he placed material that showed