SECTION IV.

_Dryden's Controversy with Settle--with Rochester--He is assaulted in

Rose-street--Aureng-Zebe--Dryden meditates an Epic Poem--All for Love--

Limberham--Oedipus--Troilus and Cressida--The Spanish Friar--Dryden

supposed to be in opposition to the Court._

"The State of Innocence" was published in 1674, and "Aureng-Zebe,"

Dryden's next tragedy, appeared in 1675. In the interval, he informs us,

his ardour for rhyming plays had considerably abated. The course of

study which he imposed on himself doubtless led him to this conclusion.

But it is also possible, that he found the peculiar facilities of that

drama had excited the emulation of very inferior poets, who, by dint of

show, rant, and clamorous hexameters, were likely to divide with him the

public favour. Before proceeding, therefore, to state the gradual

alteration in Dryden's own taste, we must perform the task of detailing

the literary quarrels in which he was at this period engaged. The chief

of his rivals was Elkanah Settle, a person afterwards utterly

contemptible; but who, first by the strength of a party at court, and

afterwards by a faction in the state, was, for a time, buoyed up in

opposition to Dryden. It is impossible to detail the progress of the

contest for public favour between these two ill-matched rivals, without

noticing at the same time Dryden's quarrel with Rochester, who appears

to have played off Settle in opposition to him, as absolutely, and

nearly as successfully, as Settle ever played off the literary

[literal?] puppets, for which, in the ebb of his fortune, he

wrote dramas.

In the year 1673, Dryden and Rochester were on such friendly terms, that

our poet inscribed to his lordship his favourite play of "Marriage à la

Mode;" not without acknowledgment of the deepest gratitude for favours

done to his fortune and reputation. The dedication, we have seen, was so

favourably accepted by Rochester, that the reception called forth a

second tribute of thanks from the poet to the patron. But at this point,

the interchange of kindness and of civility received a sudden and

irrecoverable check. This was partly owing to Rochester's fickle and

jealous temper, which induced him alternately to raise and depress the

men of parts whom he loved to patronise; so that no one should ever

become independent of his favour, or so rooted in the public opinion as

to be beyond the reach of his satire; but it may also in part be

attributed to Dryden's attachment to Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave,

afterwards Duke of Buckingham, then Rochester's rival in wit and

court-favour, and from whom he had sustained a deadly affront, on an

occasion, which, as the remote cause of a curious incident in Dryden's

life, I have elsewhere detailed in the words of Sheffield himself.

Rochester, who was branded as a coward in consequence of this

transaction, must be reasonably supposed to entertain a sincere hatred

against Mulgrave; with whom he had once lived on such friendly terms as

to inscribe to him an Epistle on their mutual poems. But, as his nerves

had proved unequal to a personal conflict with his brother peer, his

malice prompted the discharge of his spleen upon those men of literature

whom his antagonist cherished and patronised. Among these Dryden held a

distinguished situation; for about 1675 he was, as we shall presently

see, sufficiently in Sheffield's confidence to correct and revise that

nobleman's poetry;[1] and in 1676 dedicated to him the tragedy of

"Aureng-Zebe," as one who enjoyed not only his favour, but his love and

conversation. Thus Dryden was obnoxious to Rochester, both as holding a

station among the authors of the period, grievous to the vanity of one

who aimed, by a levelling and dividing system, to be the tyrant, or at

least the dictator, of wit; and also as the friend, and even the

confidant, of Mulgrave, by whom the witty profligate had been baffled

and humiliated. Dryden was therefore to be lowered in the public

opinion; and for this purpose, Rochester made use of Elkanah Settle,

whom, though he gratified his malice by placing him in opposition to

Dryden, he must, in his heart, have thoroughly despised.[2]

This playwright, whom the jealous spleen of a favourite courtier, and

the misjudging taste of a promiscuous audience, placed for some time in

so high a station, came into notice in 1671, on the representation of

his first play, "Cambyses, King of Persia," which was played six nights

successively. This run of public favour gave Rochester some pretence to

bring Settle to the notice of the king; and, through the efforts of this

mischievous wit, joined to the natural disposition of the people to be

carried by show, rant, and tumult, Settle's second play, "The Empress of

Morocco," was acted with unanimous and overpowering applause for a month

together. To add to Dryden's mortification, Rochester had interest

enough to have this tragedy of one whom he had elevated into the rank of

his rival, first acted at Whitehall by the lords and ladies of the

court; an honour which had never been paid to any of Dryden's

compositions, however more justly entitled to it, both from intrinsic

merit, and by the author's situation as poet-laureate. Rochester

contributed a prologue upon this brilliant occasion to add still more

grace to Settle's triumph; but what seems yet more extraordinary, and

has, I think, been unnoticed in all accounts of the controversy,

Mulgrave,[3] Rochester's rival and the friend of Dryden, did the same

homage to "The Empress of Morocco." From the king's private theatre,

"The Empress of Morocco" was transferred, in all its honours, to the

public stage in Dorset Gardens, and received with applause corresponding

to the expectation excited by its favour at Whitehall. While the court

and city were thus worshipping the idol which Rochester had set up, it

could hardly be expected of poor Settle, that he should be first to

discern his own want of desert. On the contrary, he grew presumptuous on

success; and when he printed his performance, the dedication to the Earl

of Norwich was directly levelled against the poet-laureate who termed it

the "most arrogant, calumniatory, ill-mannered, and senseless preface he

ever saw."[4] And, to add gall to bitterness, the bookseller thought

"The Empress of Morocco" worthy of being decorated with engravings, and

sold at the advanced price of two shillings; being the first drama

advanced to such honourable distinction.[5] Moreover, the play is

ostentatiously stated in the title to be written by Elkanah Settle,

_Servant to His Majesty_;[6] an addition which the laureate had assumed

with greater propriety.

If we are asked the merit of a performance which made such an impression

at the time, we may borrow an expression applied to a certain orator,[7]

and say, that "The Empress of Morocco" must have acted _to the tune_ of

a good heroic play. It had all the outward and visible requisites of

splendid scenery, prisons, palaces, fleets, combats of desperate

duration and uncertain issue,[8] assassinations, a dancing tree, a

rainbow, a shower of hail, a criminal executed,[9] and hell itself

opening upon the stage. The rhyming dialogue too, in which the play was

written, had an imperative and tyrannical sound; and to a foreigner,

ignorant of the language, might have appeared as magnificent as that of

Dryden. But it must raise our admiration, that the witty court of

Charles could patiently listen to a "tale told by an idiot, full of

noise and fury, signifying nothing," and give it a preference over the

poetry of Dryden. The following description of a hail-storm will

vindicate our wonder:

"This morning, as our eyes we upward cast,

The desert regions of the air lay waste.

But straight, as if it had some penance bore,

A mourning garb of thick black clouds it wore.

But on the sudden,

Some aery demon changed its form, and now

That which looked black above looked white below;

The clouds dishevelled from their crusted locks,

Something like gems coined out of crystal rocks.

The ground was with this strange bright issue spread,

As if heaven in affront to nature had

Designed some new-found tillage of its own,

And on the earth these unknown seeds had sown.

Of these I reached a grain, which to my sense

Appeared as cool as virgin-innocence;

And like that too (which chiefly I admired),

Its ravished whiteness with a touch expired.

At the approach of heat, this candid rain

Dissolved to its first element again.

_Muly-H._ Though showers of hail Morocco never see,

Dull priest, what does all this portend to me?

_Ham_. It does portend--

_Muly._ What?

_Ham_. That the fates design--

_Muly_. To tire me with impertinence like thine."

Such were the strains once preferred to the magnificent verses of

Dryden; whose very worst bombast is sublimity compared to them. To prove

which, the reader need only peruse the Indian's account of the Spanish

fleet in the "Indian Emperor," to which the above lines are a parallel;

each being the description of an object familiar to the audience, but

new to the describer. The poet felt the disgraceful preference more

deeply than was altogether becoming; but he had levelled his powers,

says Johnson, when he levelled his desires to those of Settle, and

placed his happiness in the claps of multitudes. The moral may be

carried yet further; for had not Dryden stooped to call to the aid of

his poetry the auxiliaries of scenery, gilded truncheons, and verse of

more noise than meaning, it is impossible his plays could have been

drawn into comparison with those of Settle. But the meretricious

ornaments which he himself had introduced were within the reach of the

meanest capacity; and, having been among the first to debauch the taste

of the public, it was retributive justice that he should experience

their inconstancy. Indeed Dryden seems himself to admit, that the

principal difference between his heroic plays and "The Empress of

Morocco," was, that the former were good sense, that looked like

nonsense, and the latter nonsense, which yet looked very like sense. A

nice distinction, and which argued some regret at having opened the way

to such a rival.

The feelings of contempt ought to have suppressed those of anger; but

Dryden, who professedly lived to please his own age, had not temper to

wait till time should do him justice. Angry he was; and unfortunately he

determined to shew the world that he did well in being so. With this

view, in conjunction with Shadwell and Crowne, two brother-dramatists,

equally jealous of Settle's success, he composed a pamphlet, entitled

"Remarks upon the Empress of Morocco." This piece is written in the same

tone of boisterous and vulgar raillery with which Clifford and Leigh had

assailed Dryden himself; and little resembles our poet's general style

of controversy. He seems to have exchanged his satirical scourge for the

clumsy flail of Shadwell, when he stooped to use such raillery as the

following description of Settle: "In short, he is an animal of a most

deplored understanding, without reading and conversation: his being is

in a twilight of sense, and some glimmering of thought, which he can

never fashion either into wit or English. His style is boisterous and

rough-hewn; his rhyme incorrigibly lewd, and his numbers perpetually

harsh and ill-sounding."

Settle, nothing dismayed with this vehement attack, manfully retorted

the abuse which had been thrown upon him, and answered the insulting

clamour of his three antagonists with clamorous insult.[10] It was

obvious that the weaker poet must be the winner by this contest in

abuse; and Dryden gained no more by his dispute with Settle, than a

well-dressed man who should condescend to wrestle with a

chimney-sweeper. The feud between them was carried no further, until,

after the publication of "Absalom and Achitophel," party animosity added

spurs to literary rivalry.

We must now return to Rochester, who, observing Settle's rise to his

unmerited elevation in the public opinion, became as anxious to lower

his presumption as he had formerly been to diminish the reputation of

Dryden. With this view, that tyrannical person of honour availed himself

of his credit to recommend Crowne to write the masque of "Calisto,"

which was acted by the lords and ladies of the court of Charles in 1675.

Nothing could be more galling towards Dryden, a part of whose duty as

poet-laureate was to compose the pieces designed for such occasions.

Crowne, though he was a tolerable comic writer,[11] had no turn whatever

for tragedy, or indeed for poetry of any kind. But the splendour of the

scenery and dresses, the quality of the performers, selected from the

first nobility, and the favour of the sovereign, gave "Calisto" a run of

nearly thirty nights. Dryden, though mortified, tendered his services in

the shape of an epilogue, to be spoken by Lady Henrietta Maria

Wentworth.[12] But the influence of his enemy, Rochester, was still

predominant, and the epilogue of the laureate was rejected.[13]

The author of "Calisto" also lost his credit with Rochester, so soon as

he became generally popular; and shortly after the representation of

that piece, its fickle patron seems to have recommended to the royal

protection, a rival more formidable to Dryden than either Settle or

"starch Johnny Crowne."[14] This was no other than Otway, whose "Don

Carlos" appeared in 1676, and was hailed as one of the best heroic plays

which had been written. The author avows in his preface the obligations

he owed to Rochester, who had recommended him to the king and the duke,

to whose favour he owed his good success, and on whose indulgence he

reckoned as insuring that of his next attempt.[15] These effusions of

gratitude did not, as Mr. Malone observes, withhold Rochester, shortly

after, from lampooning Otway, with circumstances of gross insult, in the

"Session of the Poets."[16] In the same preface, Otway, in very

intelligible language, bade defiance to Dryden whom he charges with

having spoken slightly of his play.[17] But although Dryden did not

admire the general structure of Otway's poetry, he is said, even at this

time, to have borne witness to his power of moving the passions; an

acknowledgment which he long afterwards solemnly repeated. Thus Otway,

like many others, mistook the character of a pretended friend, and did

injustice to that of a liberal rival. Dryden and he indeed never appear

to have been personal friends, even when they both wrote in the Tory

interest. It was probably about this time that Otway challenged Settle,

whose courage appears to have failed him upon the occasion.

Rochester was not content with exciting rivals against Dryden in the

public opinion, but assailed him personally in an imitation of Horace,

which he quaintly entitled, "An Allusion to the Tenth Satire." It came

out anonymously about 1678, but the town was at no loss to guess that

Rochester was the patron or author. Much of the satire was bestowed on

Dryden, whom Rochester for the first time distinguishes by a ridiculous

nickname, which was afterwards echoed by imitating dunces in all their

lampoons. The lines are more cutting, because mingled with as much

praise as the writer probably thought necessary to gain the credit of a

candid critic.[18] Dryden, on his part, did not view with indifference

these repeated direct and indirect attacks on his literary reputation by

Rochester. In the preface to "All for Love," published in 1678, he gives

a severe rebuke to those men of rank, who, having acquired the credit of

wit, either by virtue of their quality, or by common fame, and finding

themselves possessed of some smattering of Latin, become ambitious to

distinguish themselves by their poetry from the herd of gentlemen. "And

is not this," he exclaims, "a wretched affectation, not to be contented

with what fortune has done for them, and sit down quietly with their

estates, but they must call their wits in question, and needlessly

expose their nakedness to public view? Not considering that they are

not to expect the same approbation from sober men, which they have found

from their flatterers after the third bottle. If a little glittering in

discourse has passed them on us for witty men, where was the necessity

of undeceiving the world? Would a man who has an ill title to an estate,

but yet is in possession of it; would he bring it of his own accord to

be tried at Westminster? We who write, if we want the talent, yet have

the excuse, that we do it for a poor subsistence; but what can be urged

in their defence, who, not having the vocation of poverty to scribble

out of mere wantonness, take pains to make themselves ridiculous? Horace

was certainly in the right, where he said, 'That no man is satisfied

with his own condition.' A poet is not pleased, because he is not rich;

and the rich are discontented, because the poets will not admit them of

their number. Thus the case is hard with writers: if they succeed not,

they must starve; and if they do, some malicious satire is prepared to

level them, for daring to please without their leave. But while they are

so eager to destroy the fame of others, their ambition is manifest in

their concernment; some poem of their own is to be produced, and the

slaves are to be laid flat with their faces on the ground, that the

monarch may appear in the greater majesty." This general censure of the

persons of wit and honour about town, is fixed on Rochester in

particular not only by the marked allusion in the last sentence, to the

despotic tyranny which he claimed over the authors of his time, but also

by a direct attack upon such imitators of Horace, who make doggrel of

his Latin, misapply his censures, and often contradict their own. It is

remarkable, however, that he ascribes this imitation rather to some zany

of the great, than to one of their number; and seems to have thought

Rochester rather the patron than the author.

At the expense of anticipating the order of events, and that we may

bring Dryden's dispute with Rochester to a conclusion, we must recall to

the reader's recollection our author's friendship with Mulgrave. This

appears to have been so intimate, that, in 1675, that nobleman intrusted

him with the task of revising his "Essay upon Satire:" a poem which

contained dishonourable mention of many courtiers of the time, and was

particularly severe on Sir Car Scrope and Rochester. The last of these

is taxed with cowardice, and a thousand odious and mean vices; upbraided

with the grossness and scurrility of his writings, and with the infamous

profligacy of his life.[19] The versification of the poem is as flat and

inharmonious, as the plan is careless and ill-arranged; and though the

imputation was to cost Dryden dear, I cannot think that any part of the

"Essay on Satire" received additions from his pen. Probably he might

contribute a few hints for revision; but the author of "Absalom and

Achitophel" could never completely disguise the powers which were

shortly to produce that brilliant satire. Dryden's verses must have

shone among Mulgrave's as gold beside copper. The whole Essay is a mere

stagnant level, no one part of it so far rising above the rest as to

bespeak the work of a superior hand. The thoughts, even when conceived

with some spirit, are clumsily and unhappily brought out; a fault never

to be traced in the beautiful language of Dryden, whose powers of

expression were at least equal to his force of conception. Besides, as

Mr. Malone has observed, he had now brought to the highest excellence

his system of versification; and is it possible he could neglect it so

far as to write the rugged lines in the note, where all manner of

elliptical barbarisms are resorted to, for squeezing the words into a

measure "lame and o'erburdened, and screaming its wretchedness"? The

"Essay on Satire" was finally subjected by the noble author to the

criticism of Pope, who, less scrupulous than Dryden, appears to have

made large improvements; but after having undergone the revision of two

of the first names in English poetry, it continues to be a very

indifferent performance.

In another point of view, it seems inconsistent with Dryden's situation

to suppose he had any active share in the "Essay on Satire." The

character of Charles is treated with great severity, as well as those of

the Duchesses of Portsmouth and Cleveland, the royal mistresses. This

was quite consistent with Mulgrave's disposition, who was at this time

discontented with the ministry; but certainly would not have beseemed

Dryden, who held an office at court. Sedley also, with whom Dryden

always seems to have lived on friendly terms, is harshly treated in the

"Essay on Satire." It may be owned, however, that these reasons were not

held powerful at the time, since they must, in that case, have saved

Dryden from the inconvenient suspicion which, we will presently see,

attached to him. The public were accustomed to see the friendship of

wits end in mutual satire; and the good-natured Charles was so generally

the subject of the ridicule which he loved, that no one seems to have

thought there was improbability in a libel being composed on him by his

own laureate.

The "Essay on Satire," though written, as appears from the title-page of

the last edition, in 1675, was not made public until 1679, when several

copies were handed about in manuscript. Rochester sends one of these to

his friend Henry Saville, on the 21st of November 1679, with this

observation:--"I have sent you herewith a libel, in which my own share

is not the least. The king, having perused it, is no way dissatisfied

with his. The author is apparently Mr. Dr[yden], his patron, Lord

M[ulgrave,] having a panegyric in the midst." From hence it is evident,

that Dryden obtained the reputation of being the author; in consequence

of which, Rochester meditated the base and cowardly revenge which he

afterwards executed; and he thus coolly expressed his intention in

another of his letters:--"You write me word, that I'm out of favour with

a certain poet, whom I have admired for the disproportion of him and his

attributes. He is a rarity which I cannot but be fond of, as one would

be of a hog that could fiddle, or a singing owl. If he falls on me at

the blunt, which is his very good weapon in wit, I will forgive him if

you please; and _leave the repartee to black Will with a cudgel_."

In pursuance of this infamous resolution, Dryden, upon the night of the

18th December 1679, was waylaid by hired ruffians, and severely beaten,

as he passed through Rose-street, Covent-garden returning from Will's

Coffee-house to his own house in Gerrard-street. A reward of £50 was in

vain offered, in the London Gazette and other newspapers, for the

discovery of the perpetrators of this outrage.[20] The town was,

however, at no loss to pitch upon Rochester as the employer of the

bravoes, with whom the public suspicion joined the Duchess of

Portsmouth, equally concerned in the supposed affront thus avenged. In

our time, were a nobleman to have recourse to hired bravoes to avenge

his personal quarrel against any one, more especially a person holding

the rank of a gentleman, he might lay his account with being hunted out

of society. But in the age of Charles, the ancient high and chivalrous

sense of honour was esteemed Quixotic, and the civil war had left traces

of ferocity in the manners and sentiments of the people. Rencounters,

where the assailants took all advantages of number and weapons, were as

frequent, and held as honourable, as regular duels. Some of these

approached closely to assassination; as in the famous case of Sir John

Coventry, who was waylaid, and had his nose slit by some young men of

high rank, for a reflection upon the king's theatrical amours. This

occasioned the famous statute against maiming and wounding, called the

Coventry Act; an Act highly necessary, since so far did our ancestors'

ideas of manly forbearance differ from ours, that Killigrew introduces

the hero of one of his comedies, a cavalier, and the fine gentleman of

the piece, lying in wait for, and slashing the face of a poor courtezan,

who had cheated him.[21] It will certainly be admitted, that a man,

surprised in the dark and beaten by ruffians, loses no honour by such a

misfortune. But, if Dryden had received the same discipline from

Rochester's own hand without resenting it, his drubbing could not have

been more frequently made a matter of reproach to him;--a sign surely of

the penury of subjects for satire in his life and character, since an

accident, which might have happened to the greatest hero who ever lived,

was resorted to as an imputation on his honour. The Rose-alley ambuscade

became almost proverbial;[22] and even Mulgrave, the real author of the

satire, and upon whose shoulders the blows ought in justice to have

descended, mentions the circumstance in his "Art of Poetry;" with a cold

and self-sufficient complacent sneer:

"Though praised and punished for another's rhymes,

His own deserve as great applause _sometimes_."

To which is added in a note, "A libel for which he was both applauded

and wounded, though entirely ignorant of the whole matter." This flat

and conceited couplet, and note, the noble author judged it proper to

omit in the corrected edition of his poem. Otway alone, no longer the

friend of Rochester, and perhaps no longer the enemy of Dryden, has

spoken of the author of this dastardly outrage with the contempt his

cowardly malice deserved:

"Poets in honour of the truth should write,

With the same spirit brave men for it fight;

And though against him causeless hatreds rise,

And daily where he goes, of late, he spies

The scowls of sullen and revengeful eyes;

'Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear,

And serves a cause too good to let him fear:

He fears no poison from incensed drab,

No ruffian's five-foot sword, nor rascal's stab;

Nor any other snares of mischief laid,

_Not a Rose-alley cudgel ambuscade_;

From any private cause where malice reigns,

Or general pique all blockheads have to brains."

It does not appear that Dryden ever thought it worth his while to take

revenge on Rochester; and the only allusion to him in his writings may

be found in the Essay prefixed to the translation of Juvenal, where he

is mentioned as a man of quality, whose ashes our author was unwilling

to disturb, and who had paid Dorset, to whom that piece is inscribed,

the highest compliment which his self-sufficiency could afford to any

one. Perhaps Dryden remembered Rochester among others, when, in the same

piece, he takes credit for resisting opportunities and temptation to

take revenge, even upon those by whom he had been notoriously and

wantonly provoked.[23]

The detail of these quarrels has interrupted our account of Dryden's

writings, which we are now to resume.

"Aureng-Zebe" was his first performance after the failure of the

"Assignation." It was acted in 1675 with general applause. "Aureng-Zebe"

is a heroic, or rhyming play, but not cast in a mould quite so romantic

as the "Conquest of Granada." There is a grave and moral turn in many of

the speeches, which brings it nearer the style of a French tragedy. It

is true, the character of Moral borders upon extravagance; but a certain

licence has been always given to theatrical tyrants, and we excuse

bombast in him more readily than in Almanzor. There is perhaps some

reason for this indulgence. The possession of unlimited power, vested in

active and mercurial characters, naturally drives them to an extravagant

indulgence of passion, bordering upon insanity; and it follows, that

their language must outstrip the modesty of nature. Propriety of diction

in the drama is relative, and to be referred more to individual

character than to general rules: to make a tyrant sober-minded is to

make a madman rational. But this discretion must be used with great

caution by the writer, lest he should confound the terrible with the

burlesque. Two great actors, Kynaston and Booth, differed in their style

of playing Morat.

The former, who was the original performer, and doubtless had his

instructions from the author, gave full force to the sentiments of

avowed and barbarous vainglory, which mark the character. When he is

determined to spare Aureng-Zebe, and Nourmahal pleads,

"Twill not be safe to let him live an hour,"

Kynaston gave all the stern and haughty insolence of despotism to his

answer,

"I'll do't to show my arbitrary power."[24]

But Booth, with modest caution, avoided marking and pressing upon the

audience a sentiment hovering between the comic and terrible, however

consonant to the character by whom it was delivered. The principal

incident in "Aureng-Zebe" was suggested by King Charles himself. The

tragedy is dedicated to Mulgrave, whose patronage had been so effectual,

as to introduce Dryden and his poetical schemes to the peculiar notice

of the king and duke. The dedication and the prologue of this piece

throw considerable light upon these plans, as well as upon the

revolution which had gradually taken place in Dryden's dramatic taste.

During the space which occurred between writing the "Conquest of

Granada" and "Aureng-Zebe", our author's researches into the nature and

causes of harmony of versification been unremitted, and he had probably

already collected the materials of his intended English _Prosodia_.

Besides this labour, he had been engaged in a closer and more critical

examination of the ancient English poets, than he had before bestowed

upon them. These studies seem to have led Dryden to two conclusions:

first, that the drama ought to be emancipated from the fetters of rhyme;

and secondly, that he ought to employ the system of versification, which

he had now perfected, to the more legitimate purpose of epic poetry.

Each of these opinions merits consideration.

However hardily Dryden stood forward in defence of the heroic plays, he

confessed, even in the heat of argument, that Rhyme, though he was brave

and generous, and his dominion pleasing, had still somewhat of the

usurper in him. A more minute inquiry seems to have still further

demonstrated the weakness of this usurped dominion; and our author's

good taste and practice speedily pointed out deficiencies and

difficulties, which Sir Robert Howard, against whom he defended the use

of rhyme, could not show, because he never aimed at the excellencies

which they impeded. The perusal of Shakespeare, on whom Dryden had now

turned his attention, led him to feel, that something further might be

attained in tragedy than the expression of exaggerated sentiment in

smooth verse, and that the scene ought to represent not a fanciful set

of agents exerting their superhuman faculties in a fairy-land of the

poet's own creation, but human characters, acting from the direct and

energetic influence of human passions, with whose emotions the audience

might sympathise, because akin to the feelings of their own hearts. When

Dryden had once discovered, that fear and pity were more likely to be

excited by other causes than the logic of metaphysical love, or the

dictates of fantastic honour, he must have found, that rhyme sounded as

unnatural in the dialogue of characters drawn upon the usual scale of

humanity, as the plate and mail of chivalry would have appeared on the

persons of the actors. The following lines of the Prologue to

"Aureng-Zebe," although prefixed to a rhyming play, the last which he

ever wrote, express Dryden's change of sentiment on these points:

"Our author, by experience, finds it true,

'Tis much more hard to please himself than you:

And, out of no feigned modesty, this day

Damns his laborious trifle of a play:

Not that it's worse than what before he writ,

But he has now another taste of wit;

And, to confess a truth, though out of time,

Grows weary of his long-loved mistress, Rhyme.

Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound,

And Nature flies him like enchanted ground:

What verse can do, he has performed in this,

Which he presumes the most correct of his;

But spite of all his pride, a secret shame

Invades his breast at Shakespeare's sacred name:

Awed when he hears his godlike Romans rage,

He, in a just despair, would quit the stage;

And to an age less polished, more unskilled,

Does, with disdain, the foremost honours yield."

It is remarkable, as a trait of character, that, though our author

admitted his change of opinion on this long disputed point, he would not

consent that it should be imputed to any arguments which his opponents

had the wit to bring against him. On this subject he enters a protest in

the Preface to his revised edition of the "Essay of Dramatic Poesy" in

1684:--"I confess, I find many things in this discourse which I do not

now approve; my judgment being not a little altered since the writing of

it; but whether for the better or the worse, I know not: neither indeed

is it much material, in an essay, where all I have said is

problematical. For the way of writing plays in verse, which I have

seemed to favour, I have, since that time, laid the practice of it

aside, till I have more leisure, because I find it troublesome and slow:

but I am no way altered from my opinion of it, _at least with any

reasons which have opposed it_; for your lordship may easily observe,

that none are very violent against it, but those who either have not

attempted it, or who have succeeded ill in their attempt."[25] Thus

cautious was Dryden in not admitting a victory, even in a cause which,

he had surrendered.

But although the poet had admitted, that, with powers of versification

superior to those possessed by any earlier English author, and a taste

corrected by the laborious study both of the language and those who had

used it, he found rhyme unfit for the use of the drama, he at the same

time discovered a province where it might be employed in all its

splendour. We have the mortification to learn, from the Dedication of

"Aureng-Zebe," that Dryden only wanted encouragement to enter upon the

composition of an epic poem, and to abandon the thriftless task of

writing for the promiscuous audience of the theatre,--a task which,

rivalled as he had lately been by Crowne and Settle, he most justly

compares to the labour of Sisyphus. His plot, he elsewhere explains, was

to be founded either upon the story of Arthur, or of Edward the Black

Prince; and he mentions it to Mulgrave in the following remarkable

passage, which argues great dissatisfaction with dramatic labour,

arising perhaps from a combined feeling of the bad taste of rhyming

plays, the degrading dispute with Settle, and the failure of the

"Assignation," his last theatrical attempt:--"If I must be condemned to

rhyme, I should find some ease in my change of punishment. I desire to

be no longer the Sisyphus of the stage; to roll up a stone with endless

labour, which, to follow the proverb, _gathers no moss_; and which is

perpetually falling down again. I never thought myself very fit for an

employment, where many of my predecessors have excelled me in all kinds;

and some of my contemporaries, even in my own partial judgment, have

outdone me in comedy. Some little hopes I have yet remaining (and those

too, considering my abilities, may be vain), that I may make the world

some part of amends for my ill plays, by an heroic poem. Your lordship

has been long acquainted with my design; the subject of which you know

is great, the story English, and neither too far distant from the

present age, nor too near approaching it. Such it is in my opinion, that

I could not have wished a nobler occasion to do honour by it to my king,

my country, and my friends; most of our ancient nobility being concerned

in the action. And your lordship has one particular reason to promote

this undertaking because you were the first who gave me the opportunity

of discoursing it to his majesty, and his royal highness; they were then

pleased both to commend the design, and to encourage it by their

commands; but the unsettledness of my condition has hitherto put a stop

to my thoughts concerning it. As I am no successor to Homer in his wit,

so neither do I desire to be in his poverty. I can make no rhapsodies,

nor go a begging at the Grecian doors, while I sing the praises of their

ancestors. The times of Virgil please me better, because he had an

Augustus for his patron; and, to draw the allegory nearer you, I am sure

I shall not want a Maecenas with him. It is for your lordship to stir up

that remembrance in his majesty, which his many avocations of business

have caused him, I fear, to lay aside; and, as himself and his royal

brother are the heroes of the poem, to represent to them the images of

their warlike predecessors; as Achilles is said to be roused to glory

with the sight of the combat before the ships. For my own part, I am

satisfied to have offered the design; and it may be to the advantage of

my reputation to have it refused me."[26]

Dr. Johnson and Mr. Malone remark, that Dryden observes a mystery

concerning the subject of his intended epic, to prevent the risk of

being anticipated, as he finally was by Sir Richard Blackmore on the

topic of Arthur. This, as well as other passages in Dryden's life,

allows us the pleasing indulgence of praising the decency of our own

time. Were an author of distinguished merit to announce his having made

choice of a subject for a large poem, the writer would have more than

common confidence who should venture to forestall his labours. But, in

the seventeenth century, such an intimation would, it seems, have been

an instant signal for the herd of scribblers to souse upon it, like the

harpies on the feast of the Trojans, and leave its mangled relics too

polluted for the use of genius:--

"_Turba sonans praedam pedibus circumvolat uncis;

Polluit ore dopes_.

_Semesam praedam et vestigia foeda relinquunt._"

"Aureng-Zebe" was followed, in 1678, by "All for Love," the only play

Dryden ever wrote for himself; the rest, he says, were given to the

people. The habitual study of Shakespeare, which seems lately to have

occasioned, at least greatly aided, the revolution in his taste, induced

him, among a crowd of emulous shooters, to try his strength in this bow

of Ulysses. I have, in some preliminary remarks to the play, endeavoured

to point out the difference between the manner of these great artists in

treating the misfortunes of Antony and Cleopatra.[27] If these are just,

we must allow Dryden the praise of greater regularity of plot, and a

happier combination of scene; but in sketching the character of Antony,

he loses the majestic and heroic tone which Shakespeare has assigned

him. There is too much of the love-lorn knight-errant, and too little of

the Roman warrior, in Dryden's hero. The love of Antony, however

overpowering and destructive in its effects, ought not to have resembled

the love of a sighing swain of Arcadia. This error in the original

conception of the character must doubtless be ascribed to Dryden's habit

of romantic composition. Montezuma and Almanzor were, like the prophet's

image, formed of a mixture of iron and clay; of stern and rigid

demeanour to all the universe, but unbounded devotion to the ladies of

their affections. In Antony, the first class of attributes are

discarded: he has none of that tumid and outrageous dignity which

characterised the heroes of the rhyming plays, and in its stead is

gifted with even more than an usual share of devoted attachment to his

mistress.[28] In the preface, Dryden piques himself upon venturing to

introduce the quarrelling scene between Octavia and Cleopatra, which a

French writer would have rejected, as contrary to the decorum of the

theatre. But our author's idea of female character was at all times low;

and the coarse, indecent violence, which he has thrown into the

expressions of a queen and a Roman matron, is misplaced and disgusting,

and contradicts the general and well-founded observation on the address

and self-command with which even women of ordinary dispositions can veil

mutual dislike and hatred, and the extreme keenness with which they can

arm their satire, while preserving all the external forms of civil

demeanour. But Dryden more than redeemed this error in the scene between

Antony and Ventidius, which he himself preferred to any that he ever

wrote, and perhaps with justice, if we except that between Dorax and

Sebastian: both are avowedly written in imitation of the quarrel between

Brutus and Cassius. "All for Love" was received by the public with

universal applause. Its success, with that of "Aureng-Zebe," gave fresh

lustre to the author's reputation, which had been somewhat tarnished by

the failure of the "Assignation," and the rise of so many rival

dramatists. We learn from the Players' petition to the Lord Chamberlain,

that "All for Love" was of service to the author's fortune as well as to

his fame, as he was permitted the benefit of a third night, in addition

to his profits as a sharer with the company.[29] The play was dedicated

to the Earl of Danby, then a minister in high power, but who, in the

course of a few months, was disgraced and imprisoned at the suit of the

Commons. As Danby was a great advocate for prerogative, Dryden fails not

to approach him with an encomium on monarchical government, as regulated

and circumscribed by law. In reprobating the schemes of those

innovators, who, surfeiting on happiness, endeavoured to persuade their

fellow-subjects to risk a change, he has a pointed allusion to the Earl

of Shaftesbury, who, having left the royal councils in disgrace, was now

at the head of the popular faction.

In 1678 Dryden's next play, a comedy, entitled "Limberham," was acted at

Dorset-garden theatre, but was endured for three nights only. It was

designed, the author informs us, as a satire on "the crying sin of

keeping;" and the crime for which it suffered was, that "it expressed

too much of the vice which it decried." Grossly indelicate as this play

still is, it would seem, from the Dedication to Lord Vaughan, that much

which offended on the stage was altered, or omitted, in the press;[30]

yet more than enough remains to justify the sentence pronounced against

it by the public. Mr. Malone seems to suppose Shaftesbury's party had

some share in its fate, supposing that the character of Limberham had

reference to their leader. Yet surely, although Shaftesbury was

ridiculous for aiming at gallantry, from which his age and personal

infirmity should have deterred him, Dryden would never have drawn the

witty, artful politician, as a silly, henpecked cully. Besides, Dryden

was about this time supposed even himself to have some leaning to the

popular cause; a supposition irreconcilable with his caricaturing the

foibles of Shaftesbury.

The tragedy of "Oedipus" was written by Dryden in conjunction with Lee;

the entire first and third acts were the work of our author, who also

arranged the general plan, and corrected the whole piece. Having offered

some observations[31] elsewhere upon this play, and the mode in which

its celebrated theme has been treated by the dramatists of different

nations, I need not here resume the subject. The time of the first

representation is fixed to the beginning of the playing season, in

winter 1678-9, although it was not printed until 1679.[32] Both

"Limberham" and "Oedipus" were acted at the Duke's theatre; so that it

would seem that our author was relieved from his contract with the

King's house, probably because the shares were so much diminished in

value, that his appointment was now no adequate compensation for his

labour. The managers of the King's company complained to the Lord

Chamberlain, and endeavoured, as we have seen, by pleading upon the

contract, to assert their right to the play of "Oedipus."[33] But their

claim to reclaim the poet and the play appears to have been set aside,

and Dryden continued to give his performances to the Duke's theatre

until the union of the two companies.

Dryden was now to do a new homage to Shakespeare, by refitting for the

stage the play of "Troilus and Cressida," which the author left in a

state of strange imperfection, resembling more a chronicle, or legend,

than a dramatic piece. Yet it may be disputed whether Dryden has greatly

improved it even in the particulars which he censures in his original.

His plot, though more artificial, is at the same time more trite than

that of Shakespeare. The device by which Troilus is led to doubt the

constancy of Cressida is much less natural than that she should have

been actually inconstant; her vindication by suicide is a clumsy, as

well as a hackneyed expedient; and there is too much drum and trumpet in

the grand _finale_, where "Troilus and Diomede fight, and both parties

engage at the same time. The Trojans make the Greeks retire, and Troilus

makes Diomede give ground, and hurts him. Trumpets sound. Achilles

enters with his Myrmidons, on the backs of the Trojans, who fight in a

ring, encompassed round. Troilus, singling Diomede, gets him down, and

kills him; and Achilles kills Troilus upon him. All the Trojans die upon

the place, Troilus last." Such a _bellum internecinum_ can never be

waged to advantage upon the stage. One extravagant passage in this play

serves strongly to evince Dryden's rooted dislike to the clergy. Troilus

exclaims,--

"That I should trust the daughter of a priest!

Priesthood, that makes a merchandise of heaven!

Priesthood, that sells even to their prayers and blessings,

And forces us to pay for our own cozenage!

_Thersites_. Nay, cheats heaven too with entrails and with offals;

Gives it the garbage of a sacrifice,

And keeps the best for private luxury.

Troilus_. Thou hast deserved thy life for cursing priests.

Let me embrace thee; thou art beautiful:

That back, that nose, those eyes are beautiful:

Live; thou art honest, for thou hat'st a priest."

Dryden prefixed to "Troilus and Cressida" his excellent remarks on the

Grounds of Criticism in Tragedy, giving up, with dignified indifference

the faults even of his own pieces, when they contradict the rules his

later judgment had adopted. How much his taste had altered since his

"Essay of Dramatic Poesy," or at least since his "Remarks on Heroic

Plays," will appear from the following abridgment of his new maxims. The

plot, according to these remarks, ought to be simply and naturally

detailed from its commencement to its conclusion,--a rule which excluded

the crowded incidents of the Spanish drama; and the personages ought to

be dignified and virtuous, that their misfortunes might at once excite

pity and terror. The plots of Shakespeare and Fletcher are meted by this

rule, and pronounced inferior in mechanic regularity to those of Ben

Jonson. The character of the agents, or persons, are next to be

considered; and it is required that their manner shall be at once

marked, dramatic, consistent, and natural. And here the supereminent

power of Shakespeare, in displaying the manners, bent, and inclination

of his characters, is pointed out to the reader's admiration. The

copiousness of his invention, and his judgment in sustaining the ideas

which he started, are illustrated by referring to Caliban, a creature of

the fancy, begot by an incubus upon a witch, and furnished with a

person, language, and character befitting his pedigree on both sides.

The passions are then considered as included in the manners; and Dryden,

at once and peremptorily, condemns both the extravagance of language,

which substitutes noise for feeling, and those points and turns of wit,

which misbecome one actuated by real and deep emotion. He candidly gives

an example of the last error from his own Montezuma who, pursued by his

enemies, and excluded from the fort, describes his situation in a long

simile, taken besides from the sea, which he had only heard of for the

first time in the first act. As a description of natural passion, the

famous procession of King Richard in the train of the fortunate usurper

is quoted, in justice to the divine author. From these just and liberal

rules of criticism, it is easy to discover that Dryden had already

adopted a better taste, and was disgusted with comedies, where the

entertainment arose from bustling incident, and tragedies, where

sounding verse was substituted for the delineation of manners and

expression of feeling. These opinions he pointedly expresses in the

Prologue to "Troilus and Cressida," which was spoken by Betterton,

representing the ghost of Shakespeare:

"See, my loved Britons, see your Shakespeare rise,

An awful ghost confessed to human eyes!

Unnamed, methinks, distinguished I had been,

From other shades, by this eternal green,

About whose wreaths the vulgar poets strive,

And, with a touch, their withered bays revive.

Untaught, unpractised, in a barbarous age,

I found not, but created first the stage.

And if I drained no Greek or Latin store,

'Twas that my own abundance gave me more.

On foreign trade I needed not rely,

Like fruitful Britain, rich without supply.

In this, my rough-drawn play, you shall behold

Some master-strokes, so manly and so bold,

That he who meant to alter, found 'em such;

He shook, and thought it sacrilege to touch.

Now, where are the successors to my name?

What bring they to fill out a poet's fame?

Weak, short-lived issues of a feeble age;

Scarce living to be christened on the stage!

For humour _farce_, for love they _rhyme_ dispense,

That tolls the knell for their departed sense."

It is impossible to read these lines, remembering Dryden's earlier

opinions, without acknowledging the truth of the ancient proverb, _Magna

est veritas, et praevalebit_.

The "Spanish Friar," our author's most successful comedy, succeeded

"Troilus and Cressida." Without repeating the remarks which are prefixed

to the play in the present edition,[34] we may briefly notice, that in

the tragic scenes our author has attained that better strain of dramatic

poetry which he afterwards evinced in "Sebastian." In the comic part,

the well-known character of Father Dominic, though the conception only

embodies the abstract idea which the ignorant and prejudiced fanatics of

the day formed to themselves of a Romish priest, is brought out and

illustrated with peculiar spirit. The gluttony, avarice, debauchery, and

meanness of Dominic are qualified with the talent and wit necessary to

save him from being utterly detestable; and, from the beginning to the

end of the piece, these qualities are so happily tinged with insolence

hypocrisy, and irritability, that they cannot be mistaken for the

avarice, debauchery, gluttony, and meanness of any other profession than

that of a bad churchman. In the tragic plot, we principally admire the

general management of the opening, and chiefly censure the cold-blooded

barbarity and perfidy of the young queen, in instigating the murder of

the deposed sovereign, and then attempting to turn the guilt on her

accomplice. I fear Dryden here forgot his own general rule, that the

tragic hero and heroine should have so much virtue as to entitle their

distress to the tribute of compassion. Altogether, however, the "Spanish

Friar," in both its parts, is an interesting, and almost a fascinating

play; although the tendency, even of the tragic scenes, is not laudable,

and the comedy, though more decent in language, is not less immoral in

tendency than was usual in that loose age.

Dryden attached considerable importance to the art with which the comic

and tragic scenes of the "Spanish Friar" are combined; and in doing so

he has received the sanction of Dr. Johnson. Indeed, as the ardour of

his mind ever led him to prize that task most highly, on which he had

most lately employed his energy, he has affirmed, in the dedication to

the "Spanish Friar," that there was an absolute necessity for combining

two actions in tragedy, for the sake of variety. "The truth is," he

adds, "the audience are grown weary of continued melancholy scenes; and

I dare venture to prophesy, that few tragedies, except those in verse,

shall succeed in this age, if they are not lightened with a course of

mirth; for the feast is too dull and solemn without the fiddles." The

necessity of the relief alluded to may be admitted, without allowing

that we must substitute either the misplaced charms of versification, or

a secondary comic plot, to relieve the solemn weight and monotony of

tragedy. It is no doubt true, that a highly-buskined tragedy, in which

all the personages maintain the funereal pomp usually required from the

victims of Melpomene, is apt to be intolerably tiresome, after all the

pains which a skilful and elegant poet can bestow upon finishing it. But

it is chiefly tiresome, because it is unnatural; and, in respect of

propriety, ought no more to be relieved by the introduction of a set of

comic scenes, independent of those of a mournful complexion, than the

_sombre_ air of a funeral should be enlivened by a concert of fiddles.

There appear to be two legitimate modes of interweaving tragedy with

something like comedy. The first and most easy, which has often been

resorted to, is to make the lower or less marked characters of the

drama, like the porter in "Macbeth," or the fool in "King Lear," speak

the language appropriated to their station, even in the midst of the

distresses of the piece; nay, they may be permitted to have some slight

under-intrigue of their own. This, however, requires the exertion of

much taste and discrimination; for if we are once seriously and deeply

interested in the distress of the play, the intervention of anything

like buffoonery may unloosen the hold which the author has gained on the

feelings of the audience. If such subordinate comic characters are of a

rank to intermix in the tragic dialogue, their mirth ought to be

chastened, till their language bears a relation to that of the higher

persons. For example, nothing can be more absurd than in "Don

Sebastian," and some of Southerne's tragedies, to hear the comic

character answer in prose, and with a would-be witticism, to the solemn,

unrelaxed blank verse of his tragic companion.[35] Mercutio is, I think,

one of the best instances of such a comic person as may be reasonably

and with propriety admitted into tragedy: from which, however, I do not

exclude those lower characters, whose conversation appears absurd if

much elevated above their rank. There is, however, another mode, yet

more difficult to be used with address, but much more fortunate in

effect when it has been successfully employed. This is, when the

principal personages themselves do not always remain in the buckram of

tragedy, but reserve, as in common life, lofty expressions for great

occasions, and at other times evince themselves capable of feeling the

lighter, as well as the more violent or more deep, affections of the

mind. The shades of comic humour in Hamlet, in Hotspur, and in

Falconbridge, are so far from injuring, that they greatly aid the effect

of the tragic scenes, in which these same persons take a deep and

tragical share. We grieve with them, when grieved, still more because we

have rejoiced with them when they rejoiced; and, on the whole, we

acknowledge a deeper _frater feeling_, as Burns has termed it, in men

who are actuated by the usual changes of human temperament, than in

those who, contrary to the nature of humanity, are eternally actuated by

an unvaried strain of tragic feeling. But whether the poet diversifies

his melancholy scenes by the passing gaiety of subordinate characters;

or whether he qualifies the tragic state of his heroes by occasionally

assigning lighter tasks to them; or whether he chooses to employ both

modes of relieving the weight of misery through live long acts; it is

obviously unnecessary that he should distract the attention of his

audience, and destroy the regularity of his play, by introducing a comic

plot with personages and interest altogether distinct, and intrigue but

slightly connected with that of the tragedy. Dryden himself afterwards

acknowledged that though he was fond of the "Spanish Friar," he could

not defend it from the imputation of Gothic and unnatural irregularity;

"for mirth and gravity destroy each other, and are no more to be allowed

for decent, than a gay widow laughing in a mourning habit."[36]

The "Spanish Friar" was brought out in 1681-2, when the nation was in a

ferment against the Catholics on account of the supposed plot. It is

dedicated to John, Lord Haughton, as _protestant play_ inscribed to a

_protestant patron_. It was also the last dramatic work, excepting the

political play of the "Duke of Guise," and the masque of "Albion and

Albanius," brought out by our author before the Revolution. And in

political tendency, the "Spanish Friar" has so different colouring from

these last pieces, that it is worth while to pause to examine the

private relations of the author when he composed it.

Previous to 1678, Lord Mulgrave, our author's constant and probably

effectual patron, had given him an opportunity of discoursing over his

plan of an epic poem to the king and Duke of York; and in the preface to

"Aureng-Zebe" in that year, the poet intimates an indirect complaint

that the royal brothers had neglected his plan.[37] About two years

afterwards, Mulgrave seems himself to have fallen into disgrace, and was

considered as in opposition to the court.[38] Dryden was deprived of his

intercession, and seems in some degree to have shared his disgrace. The

"Essay on Satire" became public in November 1679, and being generally

imputed to Dryden, it is said distinctly by one libeller, that his

pension was for a time interrupted.[39] This does not seem likely; it is

more probable, that Dryden shared the general fate of the household of

Charles II., whose appointments were but irregularly paid; but perhaps

his supposed delinquency made it more difficult for him than others to

obtain redress. At this period broke out the pretended discovery of the

Popish Plot, in which Dryden, even in "Absalom and Achitophel," evinces

a partial belief.[40] Not encouraged, if not actually discountenanced,

at court; sharing in some degree the discontent of his patron Mulgrave;

above all, obliged by his situation to please the age in which he lived,

Dryden did not probably hold the reverence of the Duke of York so

sacred, as to prevent his making the ridicule of the Catholic religion

the means of recommending his play to the passions of the audience.

Neither was his situation at court in any danger from his closing on

this occasion with the popular tide. Charles, during the heat of the

Popish plot, was so far from being in a situation to incur odium by

dismissing a laureate for having written a _Protestant play_, that he

was obliged for a time to throw the reins of government into the hands

of those very persons to whom the Papists were most obnoxious. The

inference drawn from Dryden's performance was that he had deserted the

court; and the Duke of York was so much displeased with the tenor of the

play, that it was the only one of which, on acceding to the crown, he

prohibited the representation. The "Spanish Friar" was often objected to

the author by his opponents, after he had embraced the religion there

satirised. Nor was the idea of his apostasy from the court an invention

of his enemies after his conversion, for it prevailed at the

commencement of the party-disputes; and the name of Dryden is, by a

partisan of royalty, ranked with that of his bitter foe Shadwell, as

followers of Shaftesbury in 1680.[41] But whatever cause of coolness or

disgust our author had received from Charles or his brother, was

removed, as usual, so soon as his services became necessary; and thus

the supposed author of a libel on the king became the ablest defender of

the cause of monarchy, and the author of the "Spanish Friar" the

advocate and convert of the Catholic religion.

In his private circumstances Dryden must have been even worse situated

than at the close of the last Section. His contract with the King's

Company was now ended, and long before seems to have produced him little

profit. If Southerne's biographer can be trusted, Dryden never made by a

single play more than one hundred pounds; so that, with all his

fertility, he could not, at his utmost exertion, make more than two

hundred a year by his theatrical labours.[42] At the same time, they so

totally engrossed his leisure, that he produced no other work of

consequence after the "_Annus Mirabilis._"[43] If, therefore, the

payment of his pension was withheld, whether from the resentment of the

court, or the poverty of the exchequer, he might well complain of the

"unsettled state" which doomed him to continue these irksome and

ill-paid labours.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Malone, vol. i. p. 124.

[2] Dennis's account of these feuds, though not strictly accurate is

lively, and too curious to be suppressed. "Nothing," says Dennis, "is

more certain, than that Mr. Settle, who is now (1717) the city poet, was

formerly a poet of the court. And at what time was he so? Why, in the

reign of King Charles the Second, when that court was more gallant and

more polite than ever the English court perhaps had been before; when

there was at court the present and the late Duke of Buckingham, the late

Earl of Dorset, Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, famous for his wit and

poetry, Sir Charles Sedley, Mr. Saville, Mr. Buckley, and several

others.

"Mr. Settle's first tragedy, 'Cambyses, King of Persia,' was acted for

three weeks together. The second, which was 'The Empress of Morocco,'

was acted for a month together; and was in such high esteem both with

the court and town that it was acted at Whitehall before the king by the

gentlemen and ladies of the court; and the prologue, which was spoken by

the Lady Betty Howard, was writ by the famous Lord Rochester. The

bookseller who printed it, depending upon the prepossession of the town,

ventured to distinguish it from all the plays that had been ever

published before; for it was the first play that ever was sold in

England for two shillings, and the first that ever was printed with

cuts. The booksellers at that time of day had not discovered so much of

the weakness of their gentle readers as they have done since, nor so

plainly discovered that fools, like children, are to be drawn in by

gewgaws.--Well; but what was the event of this great success? Mr. Settle

began to grow insolent, as any one may see, who reads the epistle

dedicatory to 'The Empress of Morocco.' Mr. Dryden, Mr. Shadwell, and

Mr. Crowne, began to grow jealous; and they three in confederacy wrote

'Remarks on the Empress of Morocco.' Mr. Settle answered them; and,

according to the opinion which the town then had of the matter (for I

have utterly forgot the controversy), had by much the better of them

all. In short, Mr. Settle was then a formidable rival to Mr. Dryden; and

I remember very well, that not only the town, but the university of

Cambridge, was very much divided in their opinions about the preference

that ought to be given to them; and in both places the younger fry

inclined to Elkanah."

[3] Lord Mulgrave wrote the prologue when Settle's play was first acted

at court; Lord Rochester's was written for the second occasion; both

were spoken by the beautiful Lady Elizabeth Howard.

[4] See this offensive dedication in the account of Settle's controversy

with Dryden.

[5] A copy of this rare edition (the gift of my learned friend, the Rev.

Henry White of Lichfield) is now before me. The engravings are

sufficiently paltry; and had the play been published even in the present

day, it would have been accounted dear at two shillings. The name of the

publisher is William Cademan, the date 1673. [See H. Morley, "English

Plays," pp. 351, 352.--ED.]

[6] This title is omitted in subsequent editions.

[7] Of whom it was said, that he spoke "to the tune of a good speech."

[8] As, for example, this stage-direction: "Here a company of villains

in ambush from behind the scenes discharge their guns at Muly-Hamet; at

which Muly-Hamet starting and turning, Hametalhaz from under his

priest's habit draws a sword and passes at Muly-H., which pass is

intercepted by Abdeleader. They engage in a very fierce fight with the

villains, who also draw and assist Hametalhaz, and go off several ways

fighting; after the discharge of other guns heard from within, and the

clashing of swords, enter again Muly-Hamet, driving in some of the

former villains, which he kills."

[9] In the fifth act the scene draws and discovers Crimalhaz cast down

on the _guanches_, i.e. hung on a wall set with spikes, scythe-blades,

and hooks of iron; which scene (to judge from the engraving) exhibited

the mangled limbs and wasted bones of former sufferers, suspended in

agreeable confusion. With this pleasing display the piece concluded.

[10] Settle's pamphlet was contumaciously entitled, "Notes and

Observations on the Empress of Morocco revised, with some few erratas;

to be printed instead of the Postscript with the next Edition of the

Conquest of Granada, 1674." See some quotations from this piece, vol.

xv.

[11] His comedy of "Sir Courtly Nice" exhibits marks of comic power.

[The condemnation of his other work is a little too sweeping.--ED.]

[12] See vol. x.

[13] [As is the case with many other circumstances of the life of

Dryden, this business of _Calisto_ has been much exaggerated. The amount

of positive evidence of Rochester's interference is exceedingly small,

and of his ill offices in regard to the epilogue there is no proof

whatever.--ED.]

[14] So called, according to the communicative old correspondent of the

Gentleman's Magazine in 1745, from the unalterable stiffness of his long

cravat.

[15] "I am well satisfied I had the greatest party of men of wit and

sense on my side: amongst which I can never enough acknowledge the

unspeakable obligations I received from the Earl of R., who, far above

what I am ever able to deserve from him, seemed almost to make it his

business to establish it in the good opinion of the king and his royal

highness; from both of which I have since received confirmations of

their good-liking of it, and encouragement to proceed. And it is to him,

I must, in all gratitude, confess, I owe the greatest part of my good

success in this and on whose indulgency I extremely build my hopes of a

next." Accordingly, next year, Otway's play of "Titus and Berenice" is

inscribed to Rochester, "his good and generous patron."

[16]

"Tom Otway came next, Tom Shailwell's dear zany,

And swears for heroics he writes best of any;

'Don Carlos' his pockets so amply had filled,

That his mange was quite cured, and his lice were all killed.

But Apollo had seen his face on the stage,

And prudently did not think fit to engage

The scum of a playhouse for the prop of an age."

[17] "Though a certain writer, that shall be nameless (but you may guess

at him by what follows), being ask'd his opinion of this play, very

gravely cock't, and cry'd, _I'gad_ he knew not a line in it he would be

authour of. But he is a fine facetious witty person, as my friend Sir

Formal has it; and to be even with him, I know a comedy of his, that has

not so much as a quibble in it which I would be authour of. And so,

reader, I bid him and thee farewell." The use of Dryden's interjection,

well known through Bayes's employing it, ascertains him to be the poet

meant.

[18]

"Well, sir, 'tis granted; I said Dryden's rhymes

Were stolen, unequal, nay dull many times;

What foolish patron is there found of his,

So blindly partial to deny me this?

But that his plays, embroidered up and down

With learning, justly pleased the town,

In the same paper I as freely own.

Yet, having this allowed, the heavy mass,

That stuffs up his loose volumes, must not pass;

For by that rule I might as well admit

Crowne's tedious scenes for poetry and wit.

'Tis therefore not enough when your false sense

Hits the false judgment of an audience

Of clapping fools assembling, a vast crowd,

Till the thronged playhouse cracked with the dull load;

Though even that talent merits, in some sort,

That can divert the rabble and the court;

Which blundering Settle never could obtain,

And puzzling Otway labours at in vain."

He afterwards mentions Etherege's seductive poetry, and adds:

"Dryden in vain tried this nice way of wit;

For he, to be a tearing blade, thought fit

To give the ladies a dry bawdy bob;

And thus he got the name of _Poet Squab_.

But to be just, 'twill to his praise be found,

His excellencies more than faults abound;

Nor dare I from his sacred temples tear

The laurel, which he best deserves to wear.

But does not Dryden find even Jonson dull?

Beaumont and Fletcher uncorrect, and full

Of lewd lines, as he calls them? Shakespeare's style

Stiff and affected? To his own the while

Allowing all the justice that his pride

So arrogantly had to these denied?

And may not I have leave impartially

To search and censure Dryden's works, and try

If those gross faults his choice pen doth commit,

Proceed from want of judgment, or of wit?

Or if his lumpish fancy does refuse

Spirit and grace, to his loose slattern muse?

Five hundred verses every morning writ,

Prove him no more a poet than a wit."

[19]

"Rochester I despise for's mere want of wit,

Though thought to have a tail and cloven feet;

For while he mischief means to all mankind,

Himself alone the ill effects does find;

And so, like witches, justly suffers shame,

Whose harmless malice is so much the same.

False are his words, affected is his wit,

So often does he aim, so seldom hit.

To every face he cringes while he speaks,

But when the back is turned, the head he breaks.

Mean in each action, lewd in every limb,

Manners themselves are mischievous in him;

A proof that chance alone makes every creature,--

A very Killigrew, without good-nature.

For what a [Transcriber's note: "Bessus?" Print unclear] has he always

lived,

And his own kickings notably contrived;

For (there's the folly that's still mixed with fear)

Cowards more blows than any hero bear.

Of fighting sparks Fame may her pleasure say,

But 'tis a bolder thing to run away.

The world may well forgive him all his ill,

For every fault does prove his penance still.

Falsely he lulls into some dangerous noose,

And then as meanly labours to get loose.

A life so infamous is better quitting;

Spent in base injury and low submitting.--

I'd like to have left out his poetry,

Forgot by all almost as well as me.

Sometimes he has some humour, never wit,

And if it rarely, very rarely hit,

'Tis under such a nasty rubbish laid,

To find it out's the cinder-woman's trade;

Who for the wretched remnants of a fire,

Must toil all day in ashes and in mire.

So lewdly dull his idle works appear,

The wretched text deserves no comments here;

Where one poor thought sometime's left all alone,

For a whole page of dulness to atone:

'Mongst forty bad, one tolerable line,

Without expression, fancy, or design."

[20] "Whereas John Dryden, Esq., was on Monday the 18th instant, at

night, barbarously assaulted, and wounded in Rose-street, in

Covent-garden, by divers men unknown; if any person shall make

discovery of the said offenders to the said Mr. Dryden, or to any

justice of the peace, he shall not only receive fifty pounds, which is

deposited in the hands of Mr. Blanchard, goldsmith, next door to

Temple-bar, for the said purpose; but if he be a principal, or an

accessory, in the said fact, his Majesty is graciously pleased to

promise him his pardon for the same."--_London Gazette_, from December

18th to December 22d, 1679. Mr. Malone mentions the same advertisement

in a newspaper, entitled, "Domestic Intelligence or News from City and

Country."

[21] I might also mention the sentiment of Count Conigsmarck, who

allowed, that the barbarous assassination of Mr. Thynne by his bravoes

was a slain on his blood, but such a one as a good action in the wars,

or a lodging on a counterscarp, would easily wash out. See his Trial,

"State Trials," vol. iv. But Conigsmarck was a foreigner.

[22] For example, a rare broadside in ridicule of Benjamin Harris the

Whig publisher, entitled, "The Saint turned Courtezan, or a new Plot

discovered by a precious Zealot of an Assault and Battery designed upon

the Body of a sanctified Sister,

"Who, in her husband's absence, with a brother

Did often use to comfort one another,

Till wide-mouthed Crop, who is an old Italian,

Took his mare nappy, and surprised her stallion,

Who, steal of entertainment from his mistress,

Did meet a cudgelling not matched in histories."

"Who's there?" quoth watchful Argus.

"Tis I, in longing passion,

Give me a kiss."

Quoth Ben, "Take this,

_A Dryden salutation_."

"Help Care, Vile, Smith, and Curtes,

Each zealous covenanter!

What wonder the atheist

L'Estrange should turn papist,

When a zealot turns a ranter."

[23] Vol. xiii.

[24] Cibber's Apology, 4to, p. 74.

[25] Vol. xv.

[26] Vol. v.

[27] Vol. v.

[28] This distinction our author himself points out in the Prologue. The

poet there says,

"His hero, whom you wits his bully call,

Bates of his mettle, and scarce rants at all;

He's somewhat lewd, but a well-meaning mind,

Weeps much, fights little, but is wondrous kind."--Vol. v.

[29] See Footnote 26, Section II, this volume.

[30] Mr. Malone has seen a MS. copy of "Limberham" in its original

state, found by Bolingbroke in the sweepings of Pope's study. It

contained several exceptionable passages, afterwards erased or altered.

[31] Vol. vi.

[32] By allusion to the act for burying in woollen.

[33] [Transcriber's note: "See their Petition, page 88" in original.

This is to be found in Footnote 26, Section II.]

[34] Vol. vi.

[35] This is ridiculed in "Chrononhotonthologos."

[36] Parallel of Poetry and Painting, vol. xvii.

[37] [Transcriber's note: "See page 181" in original. This approximates

to paragraphs preceding reference [26] in text, Section IV.]

[38] He is said to have cast the eyes of ambitious affection on the Lady

Anne (afterwards queen), daughter of the Duke of York; at which

presumption Charles was so much offended, that when Mulgrave went to

relieve Tangier in 1680, he is said to have been appointed to a leaky

and frail vessel, in hopes that he might perish; an injury which he

resented so highly, as not to permit the king's health to be drunk at

his table till the voyage was over. On his return from Tangier he was

refused the regiment of the Earl of Plymouth; and, considering his

services as neglected, for a time joined those who were discontented

with the government. He was probably reclaimed by receiving the

government of Hull and lieutenancy of Yorkshire. See vol. ix.

[39] In a poem called "The Laureat," the satirist is so ill informed, as

still to make Dryden the author of the "Essay on Satire." Surely it is

unlikely to suppose, that he should have submitted to the loss of a

pension, which he so much needed, rather than justify himself, where

justification was so easy. Yet his resentment is said to have been

"For Pension lost, and justly, without doubt:

When servants snarl we ought to kick them out.

* * * * *

That lost, the visor changed, you turn about,

And straight a true-blue Protestant crept out.

The _Friar_ now was wrote; and some will say,

They smell a malcontent through all the play."

See the whole passage, vol. vi.

[40] See, for this point also, the volume last quoted.

[41] In "A Modest Vindication of Antony, Earl of Shaftesbury, in a

Letter to a Friend concerning his having been elected King of Poland,"

Dryden is named poet-laureate to the supposed king-elect, and Shadwell

his deputy. See vol. ix.

[42] "Dryden being very desirous of knowing how much Southerne had made

by the profits of one of his plays, the other, conscious of the little

success Dryden had met with in theatrical compositions, declined the

question, and answered, he was really ashamed to acquaint him. Dryden

continuing to be solicitous to be informed, Southerne owned he had

cleared by his last play £700; which appeared astonishing to Dryden, who

was perhaps ashamed to confess, that he had never been able to acquire,

by any of his most successful pieces, more than £100."--_Life of

Southerne_ prefixed to his Plays.

[43] There was published, 1679, a translation of Appian, printed for

John Amery at the Peacock, against St. Dunstan's Church, Fleet-street.

It is inscribed by the translator, J.D., to the Earl of Ossory; and

seems to have been undertaken by his command. This work is usually

termed in catalogues, Dryden's Appian. I presume it may be the work of

that Jonathan Dryden who is mentioned in p 26.

The Dramatic Works of John Dryden, Volume 1 With a Life of the Author · 第 4 / 8 章