INTRODUCTION.
In a speech delivered at Copenhagen in 1898, Ibsen
said: "It is now thirty-four years since I journeyed
southward by way of Germany and Austria, and passed
through the Alps on May 9. Over the mountains the
clouds hung like a great dark curtain. We plunged in
under it, steamed through the tunnel, and suddenly
found ourselves at Miramare, where the beauty of the
South, a strange luminosity, shining like white marble,
suddenly revealed itself to me, and left its mark on
my whole subsequent production, even though it may
not all have taken the form of beauty." Whatever
else may have had its origin in this memorable moment
of revelation, Emperor and Galilean certainly sprang
from it. The poet felt an irresistible impulse to let
his imagination loose in the Mediterranean world of
sunshine and marble that had suddenly burst upon
him. Antiquity sprang to life before his mental
vision, and he felt that he must capture and perpetuate
the shining pageant in the medium of his art. We
see throughout the play how constantly the element
of external picturesqueness was present to his mind.
Though it has only once or twice found its way to the
