[9] Compare DRYDEN's definition of Humour, with that of Lord MACAULAY,
in his review of _Diary and Letters of Madame D'ARBLAY (Edinburgh
Review_, Jan. 1843). E.A. 1880.
[10] Glorious JOHN DRYDEN! thee liest! CROMWELL and his Court were
no "enemies of all good learning," though they utterly rejected the
Dramatic branch of it. E.A. 1880.
The Honourable Sir ROBERT HOWARD Auditor of the Exchequer.
Preface to _The great Favourite, or the Duke of LERMA_.
[Published in 1668.]
_TO THE READER._
I cannot plead the usual excuse for publishing this trifle, which is
commonly the subject of most Prefaces, by charging it upon the
importunity of friends; for I confess I was myself willing, at the first
desire of Mr. HERRINGMAN [_the Publisher_], to print it: not for any
great opinion that I had entertained; but for the opinion that others
were pleased to express. Which, being told me by some friends, I was
concerned to let the World judge what subject matter of offence was
contained in it. Some were pleased to believe little of it mine; but they
are both obliging to me, though perhaps not intentionally: the last, by
thinking there was anything in it that was worth so ill designed an envy,
as to place it to another author; the others, perhaps the best bred
Informers, by continuing their displeasure towards me, since I most
gratefully acknowledge to have received some advantage in the opinion of
the sober part of the World, by the loss of theirs.
For the subject, I came accidentally to write upon it. For a gentleman
brought a Play to the King's Company, called, _The Duke of LERMA_; and,
by them, I was desired to peruse it, and return my opinion, "Whether I
thought it fit for the Stage!" After I had read it, I acquainted them
that, "In my judgement, it would not be of much use for such a design,
since the Contrivance scarce would merit the name of a Plot; and some of
that, assisted by a disguise: and it ended abruptly. And on the person of
PHILIP III., there was fixed such a mean Character; and on the daughter of
the Duke of LERMA, such a vicious one: that I could not but judge it unfit
to be presented by any that had a respect, not only to Princes, but
indeed, to either Man or Woman."
And, about that time, being to go in the country, I was persuaded by Mr.
HART to make it my diversion there, that so great a hint might not be
lost, as the Duke of LERMA saving himself, in his last extremity, by his
unexpected disguise: which is as well in the true Story [_history_], as
the old Play. And besides that and the Names; my altering the most part
of the Characters, and the whole Design, made me uncapable to use much
more, though, perhaps, written with higher Style and Thoughts than I
could attain to.
I intend not to trouble myself nor the World any more in such subjects;
but take my leave of these my too long acquaintances: since that little
Fancy and Liberty I once enjoyed, is now fettered in business of more
unpleasant natures. Yet, were I free to apply my thoughts, as my own
choice directed them; I should hardly again venture into the Civil Wars
of Censures.
_Ubi ... Nullos habitura triumphos_.
In the next place. I must ingeniously confess that the manner of Plays,
which now are in most esteem, is beyond my power to perform [p. 587]; nor
do I condemn, in the least, anything, of what nature soever, that pleases;
since nothing could appear to me a ruder folly, than to censure the
satisfaction of others. I rather blame the unnecessary understanding of
some, that have laboured to give strict Rules to things that are not
mathematical; and, with such eagerness, pursuing their own seeming
reasons, that, at last, we are to apprehend such Argumentative Poets will
grow as strict as SANCHO PANZA's Doctor was, to our very appetites: for in
the difference of Tragedy and Comedy, and of Fars [_farce_] itself, there
can be no determination, but by the taste; nor in the manner of their
composure. And, whoever would endeavour to like or dislike, by the Rules
of others; he will be as unsuccessful, as if he should try to be
persuaded into a power of believing, not what he must, but what others
direct him to believe.
But I confess, 'tis not necessary for Poets to study strict Reason: since
they are so used to a greater latitude [pp. 568, 588], than is allowed by
that severe Inquisition, that they must infringe their own Jurisdiction,
to profess themselves obliged to argue well. I will not, therefore,
pretend to say, why I writ this Play, some Scenes in Blank Verse, others
in Rhyme; since I have no better a reason to give than Chance, which
waited upon my present Fancy: and I expect no better reason from any
Ingenious Person, than his Fancy, for which he best relishes.
I cannot, therefore, but beg leave of the Reader, to take a little notice
of the great pains the author of an _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_ has taken,
to prove "Rhyme as _natural_ in a serious Play, and more _effectual_ than
Blank Verse" [pp. 561, 581]. Thus he states the question, but pursues that
which he calls natural, in a wrong application: for 'tis not the question,
whether Rhyme or not Rhyme be best or most natural for a grave or serious
Subject: but what is _nearest the nature_ of that which it presents.
Now, after all the endeavours of that Ingenious Person, a Play will still
be supposed to be a Composition of several persons speaking _ex tempore_
and 'tis as certain, that good verses are the hardest things that can be
imagined, to be so spoken [p. 582]. So that if any will be pleased to
impose the rule of measuring things to be the best, by _being nearest_
Nature; it is granted, by consequence, that which is most remote from the
thing supposed, must needs be most improper: and, therefore, I may justly
say, that both I and the question were equally mistaken. For I do own I
had rather read good verses, than either Blank Verse or Prose; and
therefore the author did himself injury, if he like Verse so well in
Plays, to lay down Rules to raise arguments, only unanswerable against
himself.
But the same author, being filled with the precedents of the Ancients
writing their Plays in Verse, commends the thing; and assures us that
"our language is noble, full, and significant," charging all defects upon
the ill placing of words; and proves it, by quoting SENECA loftily
expressing such an ordinary thing, as "shutting a door."
_Reserate clusos regii postes Laris_.
I suppose he was himself highly affected with the sound of these words.
But to have completed his Dictates [_injunctions_]; together with his
arguments, he should have obliged us by charming our ears with such an
art of placing words, as, in an English verse, to express so loftily "the
shutting of a door": that we might have been as much affected with the
sound of his words.
This, instead of being an argument upon the question, rightly stated, is
an attempt to prove, that Nothing may seem Something by the help of a
verse; which I easily grant to be the ill fortune of it: and therefore,
the question being so much mistaken, I wonder to see that author trouble
himself twice about it, with such an absolute Triumph declared by his own
imagination. But I have heard that a gentleman in Parliament, going to
speak twice, and being interrupted by another member, as against the
Orders of the House: he was excused, by a third [member] assuring the
House he had not yet spoken to the question.
But, if we examine the General Rules laid down for Plays by strict
Reason; we shall find the errors equally gross: for the great Foundation
that is laid to build upon, is Nothing, as it is generally stated; which
will appear on the examination of the particulars.
First. We are told the Plot should not be so ridiculously contrived, as
to crowd several Countries into one Stage. Secondly, to cramp the
accidents of many years or days, into the Representation of two hours and
a half. And, lastly, a conclusion drawn that the only remaining dispute,
is concerning Time; whether it should be contained in twelve or four and
twenty hours; and the Place to be limited to the spot of ground, either
in town or city, where the Play is supposed to begin [p. 531]. And this
is called _nearest_ to Nature. For that is concluded most natural, which
is most _probable_, and _nearest_ to that which it presents.
I am so well pleased with any ingenious offers, as all these are, that I
should not examine this strictly, did not the confidence of others force
me to it: there being not anything more unreasonable to my judgement,
than the attempts to infringe the Liberty of Opinion by Rules so little
demonstrative.
To shew, therefore, upon what ill grounds, they dictate Laws for Dramatic
Poesy; I shall endeavour to make it evident that there's no such thing, as
what they All pretend [p. 592]. For, if strictly and duly weighed, 'tis as
impossible for one Stage to represent two houses or two rooms truly, as
two countries or kingdoms; and as impossible that five hours or four and
twenty hours should be two hours and a half, as that a thousand hours or
years should be less than what they are, or the greatest part of time to
be comprehended in the less. For _all_ being impossible; they are none of
them nearest the Truth, or nature of what they present. For
impossibilities are all equal, and admit no degrees. And, then, if all
those Poets that have so fervently laboured to give Rules as Maxims,
would but be pleased to abbreviate; or endure to hear their Reasons
reduced into one strict Definition; it must be, That there are _degrees_
in impossibilities, and that many things, which are not possible, may yet
be more or less impossible; and from this, proceed to give Rules to
observe the least absurdity in things, which are not at all.
I suppose, I need not trouble the Reader, with so impertinent a delay, to
attempt a further confutation of such ill grounded Reasons, than, thus, by
opening the true state of the case. Nor do I design to make any further
use of it, than from hence, to draw this modest conclusion:
That I would have all attempts of this nature, be submitted to the Fancy
of others; and bear the name of Propositions [p. 590], not of confident
Laws, or Rules made by demonstration.
And, then, I shall not discommend any Poet that dresses his Play in such
a fashion as his Fancy best approves: and fairly leave it for others to
follow, if it appears to them most convenient and fullest of ornament.
But, writing this _Epistle_, in much haste; I had almost forgot one
argument or observation, which that author has most good fortune in. It
is in his _Epistle Dedicatory_, before his _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_,
where, speaking of Rhymes in Plays, he desires it may be observed, "That
none are violent against it; but such as have not attempted it; or who
have succeeded ill in the attempt [pp. 503, 539, 598]," which, as to
myself and him, I easily acknowledge: for I confess none has written, in
that way, better than himself; nor few worse than I. Yet, I hope he is so
ingenious, that he would not wish this argument should extend further than
to him and me. For if it should be received as a good one: all Divines and
Philosophers would find a readier way of confutation than they yet have
done, of any that should oppose the least Thesis or Definition, by
saying, "They were denied by none but such as never attempted to write,
or succeeded ill in the attempt."
Thus, as I am one, that am extremely well pleased with most of the
_Propositions_, which are ingeniously laid down in that _Essay_, for
regulating the Stage: so I am also always concerned for the true honour
of Reason, and would have no spurious issue fathered upon her Fancy, may
be allowed her wantonness.
But Reason is always pure and chaste: and, as it resembles the sun, in
making all things clear; it also resembles it, in its several positions.
When it shines in full height, and directly ascendant over any subject,
it leaves but little shadow: but, when descended and grown low, its
oblique shining renders the shadow larger than the substance; and gives
the deceived person [_i.e., DRYDEN_] a wrong measure of his own
proportion.
Thus, begging the Reader's excuse, for this seeming impertinency; I
submit what I have written to the liberty of his unconfined opinion:
which is all the favour I ask of others, to afford me.