It is dedicated to the earl of Shaftsbury, and is the last Mr. Dryden
wrote, or intended for the theatre. It met with but indifferent success,
tho' in many parts the genius of that great man breaks out, especially
in the discovery of Alphonfo's successful love, and in the catastrophe,
which is extremely effecting.
In Obitum JOHAN. DRYDENI,
poetarum Anglorum facilé principis.
Pindarus Anglorum magnus, cujusque senilem
Ornavit nuper frontem Parnissia laurus,
Sive cothurnatum molitur musa laborem,
Sive levem ludit foccum, seu grande Maronis
Immortalis epos tentat, seu carmine pingit
Mordaci mores homitium, nunc occidit, eheu!
Occidit, atque tulit secum Permessidos undas;
Et fontem exhausit totum Drydenius Heros.
Heu! miserande senex! jam frigida tempora
circùm
Marcessit laurus, musæ, mæstissima turba!
Circumstant, largoque humeclant imbre cadaver;
Sheffeildum video, in lacrymis multoque dolore
Formosum, ætatis Flaccum, vatisque patronum;
Te Montacute, te, cujus musa triumphos
Carmine Boynæos cucinit, magnumque Wilhelmum
Æternavit, et olim Boynam, ignobile flumen;
Teque, O! et legum et musarum gloria! et alter
Mæcenas; cui lingua olim facunda labantem
Defendit mitræ causam; nee teruit aula
Prava jubens--vos, O jam tanguni funera vatis!
Jamque dies aderat, magnâ stipante catervâ,
Quo Phoebea cohors facras comitatur ad urnam
Reliquias, et supremum pia solvit honorem;
Jamque graves planctus, jamque illaetabile murmur
Audio Melpomenis latè, dum noster Apollo
Flebilis ante omnes, Sacvillus, tristia ducit
Agmina Pieridum, Cytharamqueaccommodatodæ;
Ipse ego, dum totidem comitentur funera musæ,
Ipse sequor mæstus; bustum venerabile fletu
Carminibufque struam multis, animumque poetæ
His faltem donis cumulabo, et fungar inani
Munere.----
At te musa mori vetat, O post sata, vel ipsa
Marmora, cum annorum fuerint rubigine scabra;
Major eris vivo; tibi scripta perennius ære
Aut faxo, condent monumentum illustre per orbem,
Secula cuncta legant, et te mirentur in illis.
JOHAN. PHILIPS,
1700. Ætat. 24. Interioris templi alumnus.
The above were thrown in Dryden's grave. We are assured they were never
in print before.
[Footnote 1: Athen. Oxon.]
[Footnote 2: He might have added, 'twas unnatural.]
[Footnote 3: Defence, or the Essay on Dramatic Poetry.]
[Footnote 4: Original Poems.]
[Footnote 5: This was written before Mr. Dodsley's edition of Virgil in
English appeared.]
[Footnote 6: Essay on Criticism.]
[Footnote 7: Life of Congreve.]
[Footnote 8: In Millar's edition of the bishop's work, we have the
following note upon this passage. 'This (says the editor) must be
understood of his performances for the stage; for as to his personal
character, there was nothing remarkably vicious in it: but his plays
are, some of them, the fullest of obscenity of any now extant.']
* * * * *
Sir CHARLES SEDLEY, Bart.
This gentleman, who obtained a great name in the world of gallantry, was
son of Sir John Sedley, of Aylesford in Kent. When our author was about
the age of 17, he became a fellow of Wadham college 1656, but he took no
degree. When he quitted the university, he retired into his own country,
and neither went to travel nor to the inns of court. As soon as the
restoration was effected, Sir Charles came to London, in order to join
in the general jubilee, and then commenced wit, courtier, poet, and
gallant.
He was so much applauded in all conversations that he began to be the
oracle of the poets; and it was by his judgment every performance was
approved or condemned; which made the King jest with him, and tell
him, that nature had given him a patent to be Apollo's viceroy. Lord
Rochester bears testimony to this, when he puts him foremost among the
judges of poetry.
I loath the rabble, tis enough for me,
If Sedley, Shadwell, Shepherd, Wycherly,
Godolphin, Butler, Buckhurst, Buckingham,
And some few more, whom I omit to name,
Approve my sense, I count their censure same.
It happened by Sir Charles, in respect of the king, as is said of the
famous cardinal Richlieu, viz. That they who recommended him to the
Royal savour, thereby supplanted themselves, and afterwards envied him;
but with this difference between the Cardinal and Sir Charles, that the
latter was never ungrateful. When he had a taste of the court, as the
King never would part with him, so he never would part from the King;
and yet two things proved particularly detrimental to him in it, first
his estate, so far from being improved was diminished; and secondly his
morals were debauched. The King delighted in his conversation, and he
was the dearer to his Majesty on this account, that he never asked a
favour; whereas some other courtiers by their bold importunity exhausted
that prince's treasures, who could not deny a man who craved, tho' he
hated his forwardness; nor could remember the silent indigence of his
friend, tho' he applauded the modesty of it. He was deeply immersed in
the public distractions of the times, and is said to have committed many
debaucheries, of which the following instance has been recorded.
In the month of June 1663 our author, Charles lord Buckhurst, and
Sir Thomas Ogle, were convened at a public house in Bow-street,
Covent-Garden, and being enflamed with strong liquors, they went up to
the balcony belonging to that house, and there shewed very indecent
postures, and gave great offence to the passengers in the street by very
unmannerly discharges upon them; which done, Sedley stripped himself
naked, and preached to the people in a gross and scandalous manner;
whereupon a riot being raised, the mob became very clamorous, and would
have forced the door next to the street; but being opposed, the preacher
and his company were driven off the balcony, and the windows of a room
into which they retired were broken by the mob. The frolic being soon
spread abroad, and as persons of fashion were concerned in it, it was so
much the more aggravated. The company were summoned to appear before a
court of justice in Westminster-Hall, where being indicted for a riot
before Sir Robert Hyde, lord chief justice of the Common Pleas, they
were all fined, and Sir Charles being sentenced to pay 500 l. he used
some very impertinent expressions to the judge; who thereupon asked him
if he had ever read a book called the Compleat Gentleman; to which Sir
Charles made answer, that he had read more books than his lordship.
The day for payment being appointed, Sir Charles desired Mr. Henry
Killegrew, and another gentleman to apply to his Majesty to have the
fine remitted, which they undertook to do; but in place of supplicating
for it, they represented Sir Charles's frolic rather in an aggravating
light, and not a farthing was abated.
After this affair, Sir Charles's mind took a more serious turn, and he
began to apply himself to the study of politics, by which he might be of
some service to his country. He was chosen, says Wood, a recruiter of
that long parliament, which began at Westminster the 8th of May 1661,
to serve for New Romney in Kent, and sat in three succeeding Parliments
since the dissolution of that.
Sir Charles, considered as an author, has great delicacy in his turns,
and Eachard observes in his dedication of Plautus's three comedies to
Sir Charles, that the easiness of his stile, the politeness of his
expressions in his Bellamira, and even those parts of it which are
purely translation, are very delightful, and engaging to the reader.
Lord Rochester, in his imitation of the 10th satire of the first book of
Horace, has the following verses in his commendation.
Sedley has that prevailing gentle art,
That can with a resistless charm impart.
The loosest wishes to the chastest heart:
Raise such a conflict, kindle such a fire,
Betwixt declining virtue and desire;
That the poor vanquish'd maid dissolves away
In dreams all night, in sighs and tears all day.
Before we give an account of our author's works, it will not be amiss to
observe, that he was extremely active in effecting the revolution, which
was thought the more extraordinary, as he had received favours from King
James II. That Prince, it seems, had fallen in love with a daughter of
Sir Charles's, who was not very handsome; for James was remarkable for
dedicating his affections to women who were not great beauties; in
consequence of his intrigue with her, and in order to give her greater
lustre in life, he created Miss Sedley countess of Dorchester. This
honour, so far from pleasing, greatly shocked Sir Charles. However
libertine himself had been, yet he could not bear the thoughts of his
daughter's dishonour; and with regard to this her exaltation, he only
considered it as rendering her more conspicuously infamous. He therefore
conceived a hatred to James, and readily joined to dispossess him of his
throne and dominions.
Being asked one day, why he appeared so warm against the King, who had
created his daughter a Countess? It is from a principle of gratitude
I am so warm, returns Sir Charles; for since his Majesty has made
my daughter a Countess, it is fit I should do all I can to make his
daughter a Queen.
Our author's works are,
1. The Mulberry Garden, a Comedy, acted by his Majesty's servants at the
theatre-royal 1668, dedicated to the duchess of Richmond and Lennox.
2. Anthony and Cleopatra, a Tragedy, acted at the Duke of York's theatre
1667. This play was acted with great applause. The Story from Plutarch's
Life of Anthony.
3. Bellamira; or the Mistress, a Comedy, acted by his Majesty's
servants, 1687. It is taken from Terence's Eunuch. While this play was
acting, the roof of the play-house fell down, but very few were hurt,
except the author: whose merry friend Sir Fleetwood Shepherd told him,
that there was so much fire in the play, that it blew up the poet, house
and all: Sir Charles answered, No, the play was so heavy it brought down
the house, and buried the poet in his own rubbish.
4. Beauty the Conqueror; or the Death of Mark Anthony, a Tragedy.
Besides these plays, Mr. Coxeter says, he is author of the two
following, which were never printed till with his works in 2 vols. 8vo.
1719, dedicated by Briscoe the bookseller to the duke of Chandois.
The Grumbler, a Comedy of three acts, scene Paris.
The Tyrant King of Crete, a Tragedy.
Sedley's poems, however amorously tender and delicate, yet have not much
strength; nor do they afford great marks of genius. The softness of his
verses is denominated by the Duke of Buckingham, Sedley's Witchcraft. It
was an art too successful in those days to propagate the immoralities
of the times, but it must be owned that in point of chastity he excels
Dorset, and Rochester; who as they conceived lewdly, wrote in plain
English, and did not give themselves any trouble to wrap up their
ribbaldry in a dress tollerably decent. But if Sedley was the more
chaste, I know not if he was the less pernicious writer: for that
pill which is gilded will be swallowed more readily, and with less
reluctance, than if tendered in its own disgustful colours. Sedley
insinuates gently into the heart, without giving any alarm, but is no
less fraught with poison, than are those whose deformity bespeaks their
mischief.
It would be tedious to enumerate here all the poems of Sir Charles
Sedley; let it suffice to say, that they are printed in two small
volumes along with his plays, and consist of translations of Virgil's
Pastorals, original Pastorals, Prologues, Songs, Epilogues, and little
occasional pieces.
We shall present the reader with an original pastoral of Sir Charles's,
as a specimen of his works.
He lived to the beginning of Queen Anne's reign, and died at an age near
90; his wit and humour continuing to the last.
A Pastoral Dialogue between THIRSIS and STREPHON.
THIRSIS.
Strephon, O Strephon, once the jolliest lad,
That with shrill pipe did ever mountain glad;
Whilome the foremost at our rural plays,
The pride and envy of our holidays:
Why dost thou sit now musing all alone,
Teaching the turtles, yet a sadder moan?
Swell'd with thy tears, why does the neighbouring brook
Bear to the ocean, what she never took?
Thy flocks are fair and fruitful, and no swain,
Than thee, more welcome to the hill or plain.
STREPHON.
I could invite the wolf, my cruel guest,
And play unmov'd, while he on all should feast:
I cou'd endure that very swain out-run,
Out-threw, out-wrestled, and each nymph shou'd shun
The hapless Strephon.----
THIRSIS.
Tell me then thy grief,
And give it, in complaints, some short relief.
STREPHON.
Had killing mildews nipt my rising corn,
My lambs been all found dead, as soon as born;
Or raging plagues run swift through every hive,
And left not one industrious bee alive;
Had early winds, with an hoarse winter's found
Scattered my rip'ning fruit upon the ground:
Unmov'd, untoucht, I cou'd the loss sustain,
And a few days expir'd, no more complain.
THIRSIS.
E'er the sun drank of the cold morning dew,
I've known thee early the tuskt boar pursue:
Then in the evening drive the bear away,
And rescue from his jaws the trembling prey.
But now thy flocks creep feebly through the fields,
No purple grapes, thy half-drest vineyards yields:
No primrose nor no violets grace thy beds,
But thorns and thistles lift their prickly heads.
What means this change?
STREPHON
Enquire no more;
When none can heal, 'tis pain to search the sore;
Bright Galatea, in whose matchless face
Sat rural innocence, with heavenly grace;
In whose no less inimitable mind,
With equal light, even distant virtues shin'd;
Chaste without pride, and charming without art,
Honour the tyrant of her tender heart:
Fair goddess of these fields, who for our sports,
Though she might well become, neglected courts:
Belov'd of all, and loving me alone,
Is from my sight, I fear, for ever gone.
THIRSIS.
Thy case indeed is pitiful, but yet
Thou on thy loss too great a price dost set.
Women like days are, Strephon, some be far
More bright and glorious than others are:
Yet none so gay, so temperate, so clear,
But that the like adorn the rowling year,
Pleasures imparted to a friend, increase,
Perhaps divided sorrow may grow less.
STREPHON.
Others as fair, to others eyes may seem,
But she has all my love and my esteem:
Her bright idea wanders in my thought,
At once my poison, and my antidote.
THIRSIS.
Our hearts are paper, beauty is the pen,
Which writes our loves, and blots 'em out agen.
Phillis is whiter than the rising swan,
Her slender waist confin'd within a span:
Charming as nature's face in the new spring,
When early birds on the green branches sing.
When rising herbs and buds begin to hide,
Their naked mother, with their short-liv'd pride,
Chloe is ripe, and as the autumn fair,
When on the elm the purple grapes appear,
When trees, hedge-rows, and every bending bush,
With rip'ning fruit, or tasteful berries blush,
Lydia is in the summer of her days,
What wood can shade us from her piercing rays?
Her even teeth, whiter than new yean'd lambs,
When they with tender cries pursue their dams.
Her eyes as charming as the evening sun,
To the scorch'd labourer when his work is done,
Whom the glad pipe, to rural sports invites,
And pays his toil with innocent delights.
On some of these fond swain fix thy desire,
And burn not with imaginary fire.
STREPHON.
The flag shall sooner with the eagle soar,
Seas leave their fishes naked on the shore;
The wolf shall sooner by the lamkin die,
And from the kid the hungry lion fly,
Than I abandon Galatea's love,
Or her dear image from my thoughts remove.
THIRSIS.
Damon this evening carries home his bride,
In all the harmless pomp of rural pride:
Where, for two spotted lambkins, newly yean'd,
With nimble feet and voice, the nymphs contend:
And for a coat, thy Galatea spun,
The Shepherds wrestle, throw the bar, and run.
STREPHON.
At that dear name I feel my heart rebound,
Like the old steed, at the fierce trumpet's sound;
I grow impatient of the least delay,
No bastard swain shall bear the prize away.
THIRSIS.
Let us make haste, already they are met;
The echoing hills their joyful shouts repeat.
* * * * *
JOHN CROWNE
Was the son of an independent minister, in that part of North America,
which is called Nova Scotia. The vivacity of his genius made him soon
grow impatient of the gloomy education he received in that country;
which he therefore quitted in order to seek his fortune in England; but
it was his fate, upon his first arrival here, to engage in an employment
more formal, if possible, than his American education. Mr. Dennis, in
his Letters, vol. i. p. 48, has given us the best account of this poet,
and upon his authority the above, and the succeeding circumstances are
related. His necessity, when he first arrived in England, was extremely
urgent, and he was obliged to become a gentleman usher to an old
independent lady; but he soon grew as weary of that precise office, as
he had done before of the discipline of Nova Scotia. One would imagine
that an education, such as this, would be but an indifferent preparative
for a man to become a polite author, but such is the irresistable
force of genius, that neither this, nor his poverty, which was very
deplorable, could suppress his ambition: aspiring to reputation, and
distinction, rather than to fortune and power. His writings soon made
him known to the court and town, yet it was neither to the savour of the
court, nor to that of the earl of Rochester, that he was indebted to the
nomination the king made of him, for the writing the Masque of Calypso,
but to the malice of that noble lord, who designed by that preference to
mortify Mr. Dryden.
Upon the breaking out of the two parties, after the pretended discovery
of the Popish plot, the favour he was in at court, and the gaiety of
his temper, which inclined him to join with the fashion, engaged him to
embrace the Tory party. About that time he wrote the City Politicks, in
order to satirize and expose the Whigs: a comedy not without wit and
spirit, and which has obtained the approbation of those of contrary
principles, which is the highest evidence of merit; but after it was
ready for the stage, he met with great embarrassments in getting it
acted. Bennet lord Arlington (who was then lord chamberlain, was
secretly in the cause of the Whigs, who were at that time potent in
Parliament, in order to support himself against the power of lord
treasurer Danby, who was his declared enemy) used all his authority
to suppress it. One while it was prohibited on account of its being
dangerous; another while it was laid aside upon pretence of its being
flat and insipid; till Mr. Crowne, at last, was forced to have recourse
to the King himself, and engage him to lay his absolute commands on
the lord chamberlain to have it no longer delayed. This command he was
pleased to give in his own person, for Charles II. loved comedy above
all other amusements, except one which was both more expensive, and
less innocent, and besides, had a very high opinion of Mr. Crowne's
abilities. While he was thus in favour with the King and court, Mr.
Dennis declares, he has more than once heard him say, that though he
had a sincere affection for the King, he had yet a mortal hatred to the
court. The promise of a sum of money made him sometimes appear there,
to sollicit the payment of it, but as soon as he received the sum, he
vanished, and for a long time never approached it.
It was at the latter end of King Charles's reign, that Mr. Crowne, tired
with the fatigue of writing, shocked with the uncertainty of theatrical
success, and desirous to shelter himself from the resentment of those
numerous enemies he had made, by his City Politics, immediately
addressed the King himself, and desired his Majesty to establish him
in some office, that might be a security to him for life: the King
answered, he should be provided for; but added, that he would first see
another comedy. Mr. Crowne endeavouring to excuse himself, by telling
the King he plotted slowly and awkwardly, his Majesty replied, that he
would help him to a plot, and so put in his hand the Spanish Comedy
called Non Poder Esser. Mr. Crowne was obliged immediately to go to
work upon it, but after he had written three acts of it, found, to his
surprize, that the Spanish play had some time before been translated,
and acted and damned, under the title of Tarugo's Wiles, or the
Coffee-House: yet, supported by the King's command, he went briskly on,
and finished it.
Mr. Crowne, who had once before obliged the commonwealth of taste, with
a very agreeable comedy in his City Politics, yet, in Sir Courtly Nice
went far beyond it, and very much surpassed himself; for though there is
something in the part of Crack, which borders upon farce, the Spanish
author alone must answer for that: for Mr. Crowne could not omit the
part of Crack, that is, of Tarugo, and the Spanish farce depending upon
it, without a downright affront to the King, who had given him the play
for his ground-work. All that is of English growth in Sir Courtly Nice
is admirable; for though it has neither the fine designing of Ben
Johnson, nor the masculine satire of Wycherley, nor the grace, delicacy,
and courtly air of Etherege, yet is the dialogue lively and spirited,
attractively diversified, and adapted to the several characters. Four
of these characters are entirely new, yet general and important, drawn
truly, and graphically and artfully opposed to each other, Surly to Sir
Courtly, and Hot-head to Testimony: those extremes of behaviour, the
one of which is the grievance, and the other the plague of society and
conversation; excessive ceremony on the one side, and on the other
rudeness, and brutality are finely exposed in Surly and Sir Courtly:
those divisions and animosities in the two great parties of England,
which have so long disturbed the public quiet, and undermined the
general interest, are happily represented and ridiculed in Testimony and
Hot-head. Mr. Dennis, speaking of this comedy, says, 'that though he
has more than twenty times read it, yet it still grows upon him, and he
delivers it as his opinion, that the greatest comic poet, who ever lived
in any age, might have been proud to have been the author of it.'
The play was now just ready to appear to the world. Every one that had
seen it rehearsed, was highly pleased with it. All who had heard of it
conceived great expectations, and Mr. Crowne was delighted with the
flattering hope of being made happy for the remaining part of his life,
by the performance of the King's promise: But upon the very last day of
the rehearsal, he met Underhill coming from the playhouse, as he himself
was going towards it, upon which the poet reprimanding the player for
neglecting so considerable a part as he had in the comedy, and on a day
of so much consequence, as the very last of the rehearsal. Oh Lord, says
Underhill, we are all undone! how! says Crowne, is the Playhouse on
fire? the whole nation, replies the player, will quickly be so, for
the King is dead; at the hearing of which dismal words, the author
was thrown almost into distraction; for he who the moment before was
ravished with the thought of the pleasure he was about to give the King,
and the favours which he was afterwards to receive from him, this moment
found, to his unspeakable sorrow, that his Royal patron was gone for
ever, and with him all his hopes. The King indeed revived from this
apoplectic fit, but three days after died, and Mr. Crowne by his death
was replunged into the deepest melancholly.
Thus far Mr. Dennis has traced the life of Crowne; in the same letter
he promises a further account of him upon another occasion, which, it
seems, never occurred, for we have not been able to find that he has any
where else mentioned our author.
The King's death having put a period to Mr. Crowne's expectations of
court-favour (for the reign of his successor was too much hurried with
party designs, to admit of any leisure to reward poetical merit, though
the Prince himself, with all his errors about him, was a man of taste,
and had a very quick discernment of the power of genius) he, no doubt,
had recourse to writing plays again for bread, and supporting himself
the best way he could by his wits, the most unpleasing, and precarious
manner of life, to which any man can be exposed. We cannot be absolutely
certain when Mr. Crowne died; Mr. Coxeter in his notes says, he was
alive in the year 1703, and as he must then have been much advanced in
years, in all probability he did not long survive it. He is the author
of 17 Plays.