The "Royal Martyr" was acted in 1668-9, and printed in 1670. It is, in
every respect, a proper heroic tragedy, and had a large share of the
applause with which those pieces were then received. It abounds in
bombast, but is not deficient in specimens of the sublime and of the
tender. The preface is distinguished by that tone of superiority, which
Dryden often assumed over the critics of the time. Their general
observations he cut short, by observing, that those who make them
produce nothing of their own, or only what is more ridiculous than any
thing they reprehend. Special objections are refuted, by an appeal to
classical authority. Thus the couplet,

  "And he, who servilely creeps after sense,
  Is safe, but ne'er will reach an excellence,"

is justified from the "_serpit humi tutus_" of Horace; and, by a
still more forced derivation, the line,

  "And follow fate which does too fast pursue,"

is said to be borrowed from Virgil,

  "_Eludit gyro interior sequiturque sequentem_."

And he concludes by exulting, that, though he might have written
nonsense, none of his critics had been so happy as to discover it. These
indications of superiority, being thought to savour of vanity, had their
share in exciting the storm of malevolent criticism, of which Dryden
afterwards so heavily complained. "Tyrannic Love" is dedicated to the
Duke of Monmouth; but it would seem the compliment was principally
designed to his duchess. The Duke, whom Dryden was afterwards to
celebrate in very different strains, is however compared to an Achilles,
or Rinaldo, who wanted only a Homer, or Tasso, to give him the fame due
to him.

It was in this period of prosperity, of general reputation, of
confidence in his genius, and perhaps of presumption, (if that word can
be applied to Dryden,) that he produced those two very singular plays,
the First and Second Parts of the "Conquest of Granada." In these models
of the pure heroic drama, the ruling sentiments of love and honour are
carried to the most passionate extravagance. And, to maintain the
legitimacy of this style of composition, our author, ever ready to
vindicate with his pen to be right, that which his timid critics
murmured at as wrong, threw the gauntlet down before the admirers of the
ancient English school, in the Epilogue to the "Second Part of the
Conquest of Granada," and in the Defence of that Epilogue. That these
plays might be introduced to the public with a solemnity corresponding
in all respects to models of the rhyming tragedy, they were inscribed to
the Duke of York, and prefaced by an "Essay upon Heroic Plays." They
were performed in 1669-70, and received with unbounded applause. Before
we consider the effect which they, and similar productions, produced on
the public, together with the progress and decay of the taste for heroic
dramas, we may first notice the effect which the ascendency of our
author's reputation had produced upon his situation and fortunes.

Whether we judge of the rank which Dryden held in society by the
splendour of his titled and powerful friends, or by his connections
among men of genius, we must consider him as occupying at this time, as
high a station in the very foremost circle as literary reputation could
gain for its owner. Independent of the notice with which he was honoured
by Charles himself, the poet numbered among his friends most of the
distinguished nobility. The great Duke of Ormond had already begun that
connection which subsisted between Dryden and three generations of the
house of Butler; Thomas Lord Clifford, one of the Cabal ministry, was
uniform in patronising the poet, and appears to have been active in
introducing him to the king's favour; the Duke of Newcastle, as we have
seen, loved him sufficiently to present him with a play for the stage;
the witty Earl of Dorset, then Lord Buckhurst, and Sir Charles Sedley,
admired in that loose age for the peculiar elegance of his loose poetry,
were his intimate associates, as is evident from the turn of the "Essay
of Dramatic Poesy," where they are speakers; Wilmot Earl of Rochester
(soon to act a very different part) was then anxious to vindicate
Dryden's writings, to mediate for him with those who distributed the
royal favour, and was thus careful, not only of his reputation, but his
fortune. In short, the first author of what was then held the first
style of poetry, was sought for by all among the great and gay who
wished to maintain some character for literary taste; a description
which included all of the court of Charles whom nature had not
positively incapacitated from such pretension. It was then Dryden
enjoyed those genial nights described in the dedication of the
"Assignation," when discourse was neither too serious nor too light, but
always pleasant, and for the most part instructive; the raillery neither
too sharp upon the present, nor too censorious upon the absent; and the
cups such only as raised the conversation of the night, without
disturbing the business of the morrow. He had not yet experienced the
disadvantages attendant on such society, or learned how soon literary
eminence becomes the object of detraction, of envy, of injury, even from
those who can best feel its merit, if they are discouraged by dissipated
habits from emulating its flight, or hardened by perverted feeling
against loving its possessors.

But, besides the society of these men of wit and pleasure, Dryden
enjoyed the affection and esteem of the ingenious Cowley, who wasted his
brilliant talents in the unprofitable paths of metaphysical poetry; of
Waller and of Denham, who had done so much for English versification; of
Davenant, as subtle as Cowley, and more harmonious than Denham, who,
with a happier model, would probably have excelled both. Dryden was also
known to Milton, though it may be doubted whether they justly
appreciated the talents of each other. Of all the men of genius at this
period, whose claims to immortality our age has admitted, Butler alone
seems to have been the adversary of our author's reputation.[28]

While Dryden was thus generally known and admired, the advancement of
his fortune bore no equal progress to the splendour of his literary
fame. Something was, however, done to assist it. The office of royal
historiographer had become vacant in 1666 by the decease of James
Howell, and in 1668 the death of Davenant opened the situation of
poet-laureate. These two offices, with a salary of £200 paid quarterly,
and the celebrated annual butt of canary, were conferred upon Dryden
18th August 1670.[29] The grant bore a retrospect to the term after
Davenant's demise, and is declared to be to "John Dryden, master of
arts, in consideration of his many acceptable services theretofore done
to his present Majesty, and from an observation of his learning and
eminent abilities, and his great skill and elegant style, both in verse
and prose."[30] Thus was our author placed at the head of the literary
class of his countrymen, so far as that high station could be conferred
by the favour of the monarch.

If we compute Dryden's share in the theatre at £300 annually, which is
lower than it was rated by the actors in their petition;[31] if we make,
at the same time, some allowance for those presents which authors of
that time received upon presenting dedications, or occasional pieces of
poetry; if we recollect, that Dryden had a small landed property, and
that his wife, Lady Elizabeth had probably some fortune or allowance,
however trifling, from her family,--I think we will fall considerably
under the mark in computing the poet's income, during this period of
prosperity, at £600 or £700 annually; a sum more adequate to procure all
the comforts, and many of the luxuries of life, than thrice the amount
at present. We must, at the same time, recollect that though Dryden is
nowhere censured for extravagance, poets are seldom capable of minute
economy, and that Lady Elizabeth was by education, and perhaps by
nature, unfitted for supplying her husband's deficiencies. These halcyon
days, too, were but of short duration. The burning of the theatre, in
1670,[32] greatly injured the poet's income from that quarter; his
pension, like other appointments of the household establishment of
Charles II., was very irregularly paid; and thus, if his income was
competent in amount, it was precarious and uncertain.

Leaving Dryden for the present in the situation which we have described,
and which he occupied during the most fortunate period of his life, the
next Section may open with an account of the public taste at this time,
and of the revolution in it which shortly took place.

 FOOTNOTES:

[1] Malone's "History of the Stage."

[2] [Although criticism of the purely literary kind has been as much as
possible avoided in these notes, it seems necessary to say a few words
here to put the reader on his guard. Scott's acquaintance with the
English drama was extensive, but he was not equally well acquainted with
the French, and (as almost all persons in France as well as in England
were till recently) was all but ignorant of French drama before
Corneille The attribution of the French classical drama to the Scudéry
romance and the influence of Louis XIV. is entirely erroneous. That
drama was introduced by Jodelle, the dramatic poet of the Pléiade in the
middle of the sixteenth century, and was strictly fashioned on the model
of Seneca. Successive improvements, culminating in those of Corneille,
were introduced in it, but its main lines continued the same. Scott has
also left out of sight a very important element in the constitution of
the English heroic play. When Davenant before the Restoration obtained
Cromwell's permission to reintroduce dramatic entertainments, if not
plays, music necessarily formed the chief part of the performance. It
was in fact an opera, and operatic peculiarities remained after all
restriction had been taken off. Scott assigns on the whole far too much
influence to the French drama and to the personal predilection of
Charles. The subject is a large one, and has never been fully handled,
but readers may be referred to the present editor's _Dryden_, pp. 18-20;
and still more to an essay on Sir George Etherege by Mr. E.W. Gosse in
the _Cornhill Magazine_ for March 1881.--ED.]

[3] _Haud inexperta loquitur._ "I have," she continues, "(and yet I am
still alive,) drudged through Le Grand Cyrus, in twelve huge volumes;
Cleopatra, in eight or ten; Polexander, Ibrahim, Clélie, and some
others, whose names, as well as all the rest of them, I have
forgotten."--_Letter of Mrs. Chapone to Mrs. Carter_.

[4] Dedication to the "Indian Emperor."

[5] In this particular a watch was kept over the stage. "The Maid's
Tragedy," which turns upon the seduction of Evadne by a licentious and
profligate king, was prohibited during the reign of Charles II., as
admitting certain unfavourable applications. The moral was not
consolatory,--

    "on lustful kings,
  Unlooked-for sudden deaths from heaven are sent."

See Cibber's _Apology_, p. 199. Waller, in compliment to the court,
wrote a 5th Act, in which that admired drama is terminated less
tragically.

[6] It was a part of the duty of the master of the revels to read over
and correct the improprieties of such plays as were to be brought
forward. Several instances occur, in Sir Henry Herbert's Office-book, of
the exercise of his authority in this point. See Malone's _History of
the Stage_.

[7] Lord Holland's "Life of Lope de Vega," p. 128.

[8] The "Wild Gallant," which Charles commanded to be performed before
him more than once, was of the class of Spanish comedies. The "Maiden
Queen," which the witty monarch honoured with the title of _his play_,
is in the same division. Sir Samuel Tuke's "Adventures of Five Hours,"
and Crowne's "Sir Courtly Nice," were both translated from the Spanish
by the king's express recommendation.

[9] The _gracioso_ or buffoon, according to Lord Holland, held an
intermediate character between a spectator and a character in the play;
interrupting with his remarks, at one time, the performance, of which he
forms an essential, but very defective part in another. His part was, I
presume, partly written, partly extempore. Something of the kind was
certainly known upon our stage. Wilson and Tarleton, in their capacity
of clowns, entered freely into a contest of wit with the spectators,
which was not at all held inconsistent with their having a share in the
performance. Nor was tragedy exempted from their interference. Hall,
after telling us of a tragic representation, informs us,

  "Now least such frightful showes of fortunes fall,
  And bloudy tyrants' rage, should chance appall
  The dead-struck audience, 'midst the silent rout
  Comes leaping in a selfe-misformed lout,
  And laughes, and grins, and frames his mimick face,
  And justles straight into the prince's place:
  Then doth the theatre echo all aloud
  With gladsome noyse of that applauding croud.
  A goodly hoch-poch, when vile russetings
  Are matcht with monarchs and with mighty kings."

This extemporal comic part seems to have been held essential to dramatic
representation, in most countries in Europe, during the infancy of the
art. Something of the same kind is still retained in the lower kinds of
popular exhibitions; and the clowns to the shows of tumbling and
horsemanship, with my much-respected friend Mr. Punch in a puppet-show,
bear a pretty close resemblance to the _gracioso_ of the Spaniards, the
_arlequino_ of the Italians, and the clown of the ancient English drama.
See Malone's _History of the Stage._

[10] [This is at least not true of the "Parson's Wedding."--ED.]

[11] Notes on Mr. Dryden's Poems, 1687.

[12] Preface to "King Arthur."

[13] "I remember," (says a correspondent of the 'Gentleman's Magazine,'
for 1745), "plain John Dryden, before he paid his court with success to
the great, in one uniform clothing of Norwich drugget. I have eat tarts
with him and Madam Reeve at the Mulberry Garden, when our author
advanced to a sword and a Chadreux wig."--Page 99 [This letter is a
famous _crux_ in the biography of Dryden. It has been suggested that the
writer was Southerne, but it is impossible to make things tally. As
Dryden certainly had paid his court to the great by 1670, if not by
1665, there is the almost insuperable difficulty of supposing that the
writer could have associated with Dryden in parties of pleasure
seventy-five years before date--a difficulty all the more difficult in
that he only claims to be in his eighty-seventh year. It would be worthy
of little attention, if the eager assailants of Dryden's moral character
had not sought to see evidence of the deepest turpitude in this
tart-eating with Mrs. Reeve and the anonymous letter-writer.--ED.]

[14] He describes him as,

  "Still smooth, as when, adorned with youthful pride,
  For thy dear sake the blushing virgins died,
  When the kind gods of wit and love combined,
  And with large gifts thy yielding soul refined."

[15] The epilogue has these lines:

  "But now if by my suit you'll not be won,
  You know what your unkindness oft has done,--
  I'll e'en forsake the playhouse, and turn Nun."

[16] [Scott's account of the marriage is incorrect in one or two
particulars, and incomplete in others. It took place on the 1st of
December 1663, at St. Swithin's, and the licence, dated the day before,
removes all idea of a clandestine match or of family disapproval.

"Ultimo Novembris 1663

[Sidenote: Juratus Hen: Smyth: Jun:]

Which day appeared personally John Driden of St. Clemt. Danes in the
County of Midd Esqr aged about 30ty yeeres and a Batchelor and alledged
that hee intendeth to marry with Dame Elizabeth Howard of St. Martin in
the Fields in the County aforesaid aged about 25 yeeres with the consent
of her Father Thomas Earle of Berke not knowing nor believing any
impediment to hinder the intended marriage of the truth of the prmisses
he made faith and prayed Licence for them to bee married in the parish
church of St. Swithins London." [Transcriber's note: spelling as in the
original.]

While, however, this entry, discovered since Scott wrote, clears up one
part of the story, another discovery has been thought to darken it
again. The following letter from Lady Elizabeth Howard appears in the
letters of Philip, second Earl of Chesterfield:--

"_From the_ Lady Elizabeth Howard _Daughter to the_ Earle of Barksshire.

"1658.

"My LORD,--I received yours, though not without great trouble, but am
not guilty of any thing you lay to my charge, nor will I ever alter from
the expressions I have formerly made, therefore I hope you will not be
so unjust as to beleive all that the world sayes of mee, but rather
credit my protestation of never having named you to my friends, being
allwayes carefull of that for my own sake as well as yours; and
therefore let it not be in the power of any, nor of your own
inclinations, to make mee less,

Your very humble Servant.

"If you will meet mee in the Old Exchange, about six a clock, I will
justify my selfe."--_Letters of Philip, second Earl of Chesterfield_,
1829, p. 95. This was the same Earl of Chesterfield to whom Dryden
dedicated the _Georgics_ thirty years later.

As Dryden's detractors have been nearly as anxious to blacken his wife's
character as his own, they have seized on this letter to confirm the
reckless and random assertions of contemporary libellers, that her
reputation was questionable. The matter may be left to readers to
decide,--I can see nothing in the phrases necessarily implying any
improper intimacy.

Perhaps it is not superfluous to observe that Scott has not shown his
accustomed judgment and knowledge of the seventeenth century in his
remark about the Howards and the tobacconists. The separation between
classes, as such, was indeed sharp; but it was probably rather more than
less usual then than now for scions of noble and gentle families to go
into retail trade. It may be added that the evidence of a quarrel
between Dryden and his own family is far from strong, and that one of
the causes assigned by Scott for that quarrel, the change of spelling,
is very dubious as a matter of fact. It has been seen that "Driden"
appears in the licence, and it is not certain that the poet invented the
_y_, or first used it.

Very shortly after the marriage occurs the first mention of Dryden of a
personal kind. Pepys writes, under date February 3d, 1664: "In Covent
Garden to-night at the great coffee-house, where Dryden the poet I knew
at Cambridge and all the wits of the town."--ED.]

[17] [To give exact dates, the preface to Sir R. Howard is dated
November 10th, 1666. The poem appeared immediately afterwards. Pepys
bought it on the 2d of February, and pronounced it "a very good poem."
Some other dates and facts of a more precise kind than those in the text
may be given here. Dryden left London in the summer of 1665, either from
dread of the plague, or because the playhouses were shut. The interval
of eighteen months seems to have been wholly spent at Charlton, and
Charles Dryden, his eldest son, was born during this time, though the
precise date is not known. Charlton is near Malmesbury in Wiltshire, and
as Dryden afterwards speaks of himself as possessed of some property in
that county, it has been reasonably conjectured that it was in virtue of
a settlement on his wife. But if so, it cannot have been freehold
property of Lord Berkshire's, as the poet says that he holds of the
Hydes. Lady Elizabeth had received a considerable grant (£3000) from the
Crown in recognition of her father's services, but it is not certain
that it was ever paid. No London domicile of his is known except the
house in Gerrard Street, now marked with a plate by the Society of Arts.
There is a house--now subdivided--in Fetter Lane which also has a plate
(the successor of a stone inscription) stating that Dryden lived there.
No biographer takes notice of this, and the topographers who do notice
it do not believe the story. If there be any foundation for it, the
period of his residence must probably have been before his marriage.--
ED.]

[18] [I venture to think this last remark overstated. Sarcasms on
matrimony were the fashion, and Dryden followed it. The evidence of
mutual unhappiness is almost _nil_.--ED.]

[19] Sandford, a most judicious actor, is said, by Cibber, cautiously to
have observed this rule, in order to avoid surfeiting the audience by
the continual recurrence of rhyme.

[20] The Honourable Edward Howard, Sir Robert's brother, expresses
himself in the preface to the "Usurper," a play Published in 1668, "not
insensible to the disadvantage it may receive passing into the world
upon the naked feet of verse, with other works that have their measures
adorned with the trappings of rhyme, which, however they have succeeded
in wit or design, is still thought music, as the heroic tone now goes;
but whether so natural to a play, that should most nearly imitate, in
some cases, our familiar converse, the judicious may easily determine."


[21] [A dislike which was silent for five years, if it existed.--ED.]

[22] Who drew Sir Robert in the character of Sir Positive Atall in the
"Sullen Lovers;" "a foolish knight, that pretends to understand
everything in the world, and will suffer no man to understand anything
in his company; so foolishly positive, that he will never be convinced
of an error, though never so gross." This character is supported with
great humour.

[23] In a letter from Dryden to Tonson, dated 26th May 1696, in which he
reckons upon Sir Robert Howard's assistance in a pecuniary transaction.

[24] "I am informed Mr. Dryden is now translating of Virgil; and
although I must own it is a fault to forestall or anticipate the praise
of a man in his labours, yet, big with the greatness of the work, and
the vast capacity of the author, I cannot here forbear saying, that Mr.
Dryden, in the translating of Virgil, will of a certain make Maro speak
better than ever Maro thought. Besides those already mentioned, there
are other ingredients and essential parts of poetry, necessary for the
forming of a truly great and happy genius, viz. a free air and spirit, a
vigorous and well governed thought, which are, as it were, the soul
which inform and animate the whole mass and body of verse. But these are
such divine excellencies as are peculiar only to the brave and the wise.
The first chief in verse, who trode in this sweet and delightful path of
the Muses, was the renowned Earl of Roscommon, a great worthy, as well
as a great wit; and who is, in all respects, resembled by another great
Lord of this present age, viz. my Lord Cutts, a person whom all people
must allow to be an accomplished gentleman, a great general, and a fine
poet.

"The two elaborate poems of Blackmore and Milton, the which, for the
dignity of them, may very well be looked upon as the two grand exemplars
of poetry, do either of them exceed, and are more to be valued than all
the poets, both of the Romans and the Greeks put together. There are two
other incomparable pieces of poetry, viz. Mr. Dryden's 'Absalom and
Achitophel,' and the epistle of a known and celebrated wit (_Mr. Charles
Montague_) to my Lord of Dorset, the best judge in poetry, as well as
the best poet; the tutelar _numen_ o' the stage, and on whose breath all
the Muses have their dependence."--_Proem to an Essay on Pastoral, and
Elegy on Queen Mary, by the Honourable Edward Howard, 21st January_
1695.

[25] That now before me is prefixed to the second edition of the "Indian
Emperor," 1668.

[26] [It seems to have been a memorial addressed to the Lord Chamberlain
for the time, and was long in the possession of the Killigrew family. It
was communicated by the learned Mr. Reed to Mr. Malone, and runs as
follows:--

"Whereas, upon Mr. Dryden's binding himself to write _three playes_ a
yeere, the said Mr. Dryden, was admitted, and continued as a sharer, in
the King's Playhouse for diverse years, and received for his share and a
quarter, three or four hundred pounds, _communibus annis_; but though he
received the moneys, we received not the playes, not one in a yeare.
After which, the House being burnt, the Company, in building another,
contracted great debts, so that the shares fell much short of what they
were formerly. Thereupon, Mr. Dryden complaining to the Company of his
want of proffit, the Company was so kind to him, that they not only did
not presse him for the playes which he so engaged to write for them, and
for which he was paid beforehand, but they did also, at his earnest
request, give him a third day for his last new play, called 'All for
Love;' and at the receipt of the money of the said third day, he
acknowledged it as a guift, and a particular kindnesse of the Company.
Yet, notwithstanding this kind proceeding, Mr. Dryden has now, jointly
with Mr. Lee (who was in pension with us to the last day of our playing,
and shall continue), written a play, called 'Oedipus,' and given it to
the Duke's Company, contrary to his said agreement, his promise, and all
gratitude, to the great prejudice and almost undoing of the Company,
they being the only poets remaining to us. Mr. Crowne, being under the
like agreement with the Duke's House, writt a play, called the
'Destruction of Jerusalem,' and being forced, by their refusall of it,
to bring it to us, the said Company compelled us, after the studying of
it, and a vast expence in scenes and cloathes, to buy off their clayme,
by paying all the pension he had received from them, amounting to one
hundred and twelve pounds paid by the King's Company, besides neere
forty pounds he, the said Mr. Crowne, paid out of his owne pocket.

"These things considered, if, notwithstanding Mr. Dryden's said
agreement, promise, and moneys, freely given him for his said last new
play, and the many titles we have to his writings, this play be judged
away from us, we must submit.

(Signed)  "CHARLES KILLIGREW.
           CHARLES HART.
           RICH. BURT.
           CARDELL GOODMAN.
           MIC. MOHUN."

Dryden also appears as a regular partner in the King's Company in an
agreement to repay money lent for the purpose of rebuilding the Theatre
after its burning in 1672.--_Shakespeare Society's Papers_, iv. 147.--
ED.]

[27] Cibber, with his usual vivacity, thus describes the comic powers of
Nokes in this admired character:

"In the ludicrous distresses, which, by the laws of comedy, folly is
often involved in, he sunk into such a mixture of piteous pusillanimity,
and a consternation so ruefully ridiculous and inconsolable, that when
he had shook you to a fatigue of laughter, it became a moot point,
whether you ought not to have pity'd him. When he debated any matter by
himself, he would shut up his mouth with a dumb studious powt, and roll
his full eye into such a vacant amazement, such palpable ignorance of
what to think of it, that his silent perplexity (which would sometimes
hold him several minutes) gave your imagination as full content, as the
most absurd thing he could say upon it. In the character of Sir Martin
Mar-all, who is always committing blunders to the prejudice of his own
interest, when he had brought himself to a dilemma in his affairs, by
vainly proceeding upon his own head, and was afterwards afraid to look
his governing servant and counsellor in the face; what a copious and
distressful harangue have I seen him make with his looks (while the
house has been in one continued roar for several minutes) before he
could prevail with his courage to speak a word to him! Then might you
have, at once, read in his face vexation--that his own measures, which
he had piqued himself upon, had failed; envy of his servant's wit;
distress--to retrieve the occasion he had lost; shame--to confess his
folly; and yet a sullen desire to be reconciled, and better advised for
the future! What tragedy ever showed us such a tumult of passions
rising, at once, in one bosom! or what buskin hero, standing under the
load of them, could have more effectually moved his spectators by the
most pathetic speech, than poor miserable Nokes did by this silent
eloquence, and piteous plight of his features?"--CIBBER'S _Apology_, p.
86.

[28] [This sentence rests on a rather slender basis of fact. Butler is
said to have had a share in the "Rehearsal," and certainly wrote a
charming parody of the usual heroic-play dialogue, in his scene between
"Cat and Puss." But this of itself can hardly be said to justify the
phrase "adversary of our author's reputation." As for Dryden, he nowhere
attacks Butler, and speaks honourably of him after his death in his
complaint to Lawrence Hyde.--ED.]

[29] [This is the correct date of the patent. There is however in the
Record Office an instruction for the preparation of a bill for the
purpose, dated April 13. This was pointed out to me by Mr. W. Noel
Sainsbury.--ED.]

[30] Pat. 22 Car. 11. p. 6, ii. 6. Malone, i. p. 88.

[31] Their account was probably exaggerated. Upon a similar occasion,
the master of the revels stated the value of his winter and summer
benefit plays at £50 each; although, in reality, they did not, upon an
average, produce him £9. See Malone's _Historical Account of the Stage_.

[32] [1672.--ED.]




SECTION III.


_Heroic Plays--The Rehearsal--Marriage à la Mode--The Assignation--
Controversy with Clifford--with Leigh--with Ravenscroft--Massacre of
Amboyna--State of Innocence_.

The rage for imitating the French stage, joined to the successful
efforts of our author, had now carried the heroic or rhyming tragedy to
its highest pitch of popularity. The principal requisites of such a
drama are summed up by Dryden in the first two lines of the "_Orlando
Furioso_,"

  "_Le Donne, i cavalier, l'arme, gli amori
  Le cortesie, l'audaci imprese_."

The story thus partaking of the nature of a romance of chivalry, the
whole interest of the play necessarily turned upon love and honour,
those supreme idols of the days of knight-errantry The love introduced
was not of that ordinary sort, which exists between persons of common
mould; it was the love of Amadis and Oriana, of Oroondates and Statira;
that love which required a sacrifice of every wish, hope, and feeling
unconnected with itself, and which was expressed in the language of
prayer and of adoration. It was that love which was neither to be
chilled by absence, nor wasted by time, nor quenched by infidelity. No
caprice in the object beloved entitled her slave to emancipate himself
from her fetters; no command, however unreasonable, was to be disobeyed;
if required by the fair mistress of his affections, the hero was not
only to sacrifice his interest, but his friend, his honour, his word,
his country, even the gratification of his love itself, to maintain the
character of a submissive and faithful adorer. Much of this mystery is
summed up in the following speech of Almahide to Almanzor, and his
answer, from which it appears, that a lover of the true heroic vein
never thought himself so happy, as when he had an opportunity of thus
showing the purity and disinterestedness of his passion. Almanzor is
commanded by his mistress to stay to assist his rival, the king, her
husband. The lover very naturally asks,

  _Almanz_. What recompence attends me, if I stay?

  _Almah_. You know I am from recompence debarred,
  But I will grant your merit a reward;
  Your flame's too noble to deserve a cheat,
  And I too plain to practise a deceit.
  I no return of love can ever make,
  But what I ask is for my husband's sake;
  He, I confess, has been ungrateful too,
  But he and I are ruined if you go;
  Your virtue to the hardest proof I bring;
  Unbribed, preserve a mistress and a king.

  _Almanz_. I'll stop at nothing that appears so brave:
  I'll do't, and now I no reward will have.
  You've given my honour such an ample field,
  That I may die, but that shall never yield.

The king, however, not perhaps understanding this nice point of honour,
grows jealous, and wishes to dismiss the disinterested ally, whom his
spouse's beauty had enlisted in his service. But this did not depend
upon him; for Almanzor exclaims,

  _Almanz_. I wonnot go; I'll not be forced away:
  I came not for thy sake; nor do I stay.
  It was the queen who for my aid did send;
  And 'tis I only can the queen defend:
  I, for her sake, thy sceptre will maintain;
  And thou, by me, in spite of thee, shalt reign.

The most applauded scenes in these plays turned upon nice discussions of
metaphysical passion, such as in the days of yore were wont to be
agitated in the courts and parliaments of love. Some puzzling dilemma,
or metaphysical abstraction, is argued between the personages on the
stage, whose dialogue, instead of presenting a scene of natural passion,
exhibits a sort of pleading or combat of logic, in which each endeavours
to defend his own opinion by catching up the idea expressed by the
former speaker, and returning him his illustration, or simile, at the
rebound; and where the lover hopes everything from his ingenuity, and
trusts nothing to his passion. Thus, in the following scene between
Almanzor and Almahide, the solicitations of the lover, and the denials
of the queen, are expressed in the very carte and tierce of poetical
argumentation:

  _Almah_. My light will sure discover those who talk.--
  Who dares to interrupt my private walk?

  _Almanz_. He, who dares love, and for that love must die.
  And, knowing this, dares yet love on, am I.

  _Almah_. That love which you can hope, and I can pay,
  May be received and given in open day;
  My praise and my esteem you had before;
  And you have bound yourself to ask no more.

  _Almanz_. Yes, I have bound myself; but will you take
  The forfeit of that bond, which force did make?

  _Almah_. You know you are from recompence debarred;
  But purest love can live without reward.

  _Almanz_. Pure love had need be to itself a feast;
  For, like pure elements, 'twill nourish least.

  _Almah_. It therefore yields the only pure content;
  For it, like angels, needs no nourishment.
  To eat and drink can no perfection be;
  All appetite implies necessity.

  _Almanz_. 'Twere well, if I could like a spirit live;
  But, do not angels food to mortals give?
  What if some demon should my death foreshow,
  Or bid me change, and to the Christians go;
  Will you not think I merit some reward,
  When I my love above my life regard?

  _Almah_. In such a case your change must be allowed:
  I would myself dispense with what you vowed.

  _Almanz_. Were I to die that hour when I possess,
  This minute shall begin my happiness.

  _Almah_. The thoughts of death your passion would remove;
  Death is a cold encouragement to love.

  _Almanz_. No; from my joys I to my death would run,
  And think the business of my life well done:
  But I should walk a discontented ghost,
  If flesh and blood were to no purpose lost.

This kind of Amoebaean dialogue was early ridiculed by the ingenious
author of "Hudibras."[1]

It partakes more of the Spanish than of the French tragedy, although it
does not demand that the parody shall be so very strict, as to re-echo
noun for noun, or verb for verb, which Lord Holland gives us as a law of
the age of Lope de Vega.[2] The English heroic poet did enough if he
displayed sufficient point in the dialogue, and alertness in adopting
and retorting the image presented by the preceding speech; though, if he
could twist the speaker's own words into an answer to his argument, it
seems to have been held the more ingenious mode of confutation.

While the hero of a rhyming tragedy was thus unboundedly submissive in
love, and dexterous in applying the metaphysical logic of amorous
jurisprudence it was essential to his character that he should possess
all the irresistible courage, and fortune of a _preux chevalier_.
Numbers, however unequal, were to be as chaff before the whirlwind of
his valour; and nothing was to be so impossible that, at the command of
his mistress, he could not with ease achieve. When, in the various
changes of fortune which such tragedies demand, he quarrelled with those
whom he had before assisted to conquer,

  "Then to the vanquished part his fate he led,
  The vanquished triumphed, and the victor fled."

The language of such a personage, unless when engaged in argumentative
dialogue with his mistress, was, in all respects, as magnificent and
inflated as might beseem his irresistible prowess. Witness the famous
speech of Almanzor:

  _Almanz_.     To live!
  If from thy hands alone my death can be,
  I am immortal and a god to thee.
  If I would kill thee now, thy fate's so low,
  That I must stoop ere I can give the blow:
  But mine is fixed so far above thy crown,
  That all thy men,
  Piled on thy back, can never pull it down:
  But, at my ease, thy destiny I send,
  By ceasing from this hour to be thy friend.
  Like heaven I need but only to stand still,
  And, not concurring to thy life, I kill,
  Thou canst no title to my duty bring;
  I'm not thy subject, and my soul's thy king.
  Farewell. When I am gone,
  There's not a star of thine dare stay with thee:
  I'll whistle thy tame fortune after me;
  And whirl fate with me wheresoe'er I fly,
  As winds drive storms before them in the sky.

It was expected by the audience, that the pomp of scenery, and bustle of
action, in which such tremendous heroes were engaged, should in some
degree correspond with their lofty sentiments and superhuman valour.
Hence solemn feasts, processions, and battles by sea and land, filled
the theatre. Hence, also, the sudden and violent changes of fortune, by
which the hero and his antagonists are agitated through the whole piece.
Fortune has been often compared to the sea; but in a heroic play, her
course resembled an absolute Bay of Biscay, or Race of Portland,
disturbed by an hundred contending currents and eddies, and never
continuing a moment in one steady flow.

That no engine of romantic surprise might be wanting, Dryden contends,
that the dramatist, as he is not confined to the probable in character,
so he is not limited by the bounds of nature in the action, but may let
himself loose to visionary objects, and to the representation of such
things as, not depending upon sense, leave free exercise for the
imagination. Indeed, if ghosts, magicians, and demons, might with
propriety claim a place anywhere, it must be in plays which throughout
disclaim the common rules of nature, both in the incidents narrated, and
the agents interested.[3]

Lastly, the action of the heroic drama was to be laid, not merely in the
higher, but in the very highest walk of life. No one could with decorum
aspire to share the sublimities which it annexed to character, except
those made of the "porcelain clay of the earth," dukes, princes, kings,
and kaisars. The matters agitated must be of moment, proportioned to
their characters and elevated station, the fate of cities and the fall
of kingdoms.

That the language, as well as actions and character of the _dramatis
personae_, might be raised above the vulgar, their sentiments were
delivered in rhyme, the richest and most ornate kind of verse, and the
farthest removed from ordinary colloquial diction. Dryden has himself
assigned the following reasons:--"The plot, the characters, the wit, the
passions, the descriptions, are all exalted above the level of common
converse, as high as the imagination of the poet can carry them, with
proportion to verisimility. Tragedy, we know, is wont to image to us the
minds and fortunes of noble persons, and to portray these exactly;
heroic rhyme is nearest nature, as being the noblest kind of modern
verse.

  _Indignatur enim priratis et prope socco
  Dignis carminibus narrari coena Thyestae_--

says Horace: and in another place,

  _Effutire leves indigna tragaedia versus_.--

Blank verse is acknowledged to be too low for a poem, nay more, for a
paper of verses; but if too low for an ordinary sonnet, how much more
for tragedy, which is by Aristotle, in the dispute betwixt the epic
poesy and the dramatic, for many reasons he there alleges, ranked above
it."

When we consider these various essentials of a rhyming play, we may
perhaps, without impropriety define it to be a metrical romance of
chivalry in form of a drama. The hero is a perfect knight-errant,
invincible in battle, and devoted to his Dulcinea by a love, subtle,
metaphysical and abstracted from all the usual qualities of the
instinctive passion; his adventures diversified by splendid descriptions
of bull-feasts, battles, and tournaments; his fortune undergoing the
strangest, most causeless, and most unexpected varieties; his history
chequered by the marvellous interference of ghosts, spectres, and hell
itself; his actions effecting the change of empires, and his co-agents
being all lords, and dukes, and noble princes, in order that their rank
might, in some slight degree, correspond to the native exultation of the
champion's character.

The reader may smile at this description, and feel some surprise, how
compositions, involving such gross absurdities, were tolerated by an
audience having pretence to taste and civilisation But something may be
said for the heroic drama.

Although the manners were preposterous, and the changes of fortune rapid
and improbable, yet the former often attained a sublime, though forced
elevation of sentiment; and the latter, by rapidity of transition and of
contrast, served in no slight degree to interest as well as to surprise
the audience. If the spectators were occasionally stunned with bombast,
or hurried and confused by the accumulation of action and intrigue, they
escaped the languor of a creeping dialogue, and the taedium of a barren
plot, of which the termination is descried full three acts before it can
be attained. Besides, if these dramas were sometimes extravagant,
beautiful passages often occurred to atone for these sallies of fury. In
others, ingenuity makes some amends for the absence of natural feeling,
and the reader's fancy is pleased at the expense of his taste. In
representation, the beauty of the verse, assisted by the enunciation of
such actors as Betterton and Mohun, gilded over the defects of the
sense, and afforded a separate gratification. The splendour of scenery
also, in which these plays claimed a peculiar excellence, afforded a
different but certain road to popular favour; and thus this drama, with
all its faults, was very far from wanting the usual requisites for
success. But another reason for its general popularity may be sought in
a certain correspondence with the manners of the time.

Although in Charles the Second's reign the age of chivalry was totally
at an end, yet the sentiments, which had ceased to be motives of action,
were not so obsolete as to sound totally strange to the public ear. The
French romances of the lower class, such as "Cassandra," "Cleopatra,"
etc., were the favourite pastime of the ladies, and retained all the
extravagancies of chivalrous sentiment, with a double portion of tedious
form and metaphysical subtlety. There were occasionally individuals
romantic enough to manage their correspondence and amours on this
exploded system. The admired Mrs. Philips carried on an extensive
correspondence with ingenious persons of both sexes, in which she called
herself _Orinda_, and her husband, Mr. Wogan, by the title of _Antenor_.
Shadwell, an acute observer of nature, in one of his comedies describes
a formal coxcomb of this class, who courts his mistress out of the
"Grand Cyrus," and rejoices in an opportunity of showing, that his
passion could subsist in despite of her scorn.[4] It is probable he had
met with such an original in the course of his observation. The
_Précieuses_ of Molière, who affected a strange mixture of the romantic
heroine and modern fine lady, belong to the same class of oddities, and
had their prototypes under the observation of the satirist. But even
those who were above such foppery had been early taught to read and
admire the conceits of Donne, and the metaphysical love-poems of Cowley.
They could not object to the quaint and argumentative dialogues which we
have described; for the course of their studies had formed their taste
upon a model equally artificial and fantastic: and thus, what between
real excellence, and false brilliancy, the age had been accustomed not
only to admit, but to admire heroic plays.

Perhaps even these favourable circumstances, of taste and opportunity,
would hardly have elevated the rhyming drama so high in the public
opinion, had it been supported by less powers than those of Dryden, or
even by equal talents less happily adapted to that style of composition.
His versification flowed so easily, as to lessen the bad effects of
rhyme in dialogue; and, at the same time, abounded with such splendid
and sonorous passages, as, in the mouth of a Betterton, awed into
silence even those critics, who could distinguish that the tumid and
unnatural was sometimes substituted for the heroic and sublime. The
felicity of his language, the richness of his illustrations, and the
depth of his reflections, often supplied what the scene wanted in
natural passion; and, while enjoying the beauty of his declamation, it
was only on cool reflection that the hearer discovered it had passed
upon him for the expression of genuine feeling. Even then, the pleasure
which he actually received from the representation, was accepted as an
apology for the more legitimate delight, which the rules of criticism
entitled him to have expected. To these considerations, the high rank
and consequent influence, which Dryden already held in the fashionable
and literary circles of the time, must unquestionably be added. Nor did
he fail to avail himself of his access to the great, whose applause was
often cheaply secured by a perusal of the piece, previous to its being
presented to the public; and thus it afterwards came forth with all the
support of a party eminent for rank and literature, already prepossessed
in its favour.[5]

For all these reasons, the heroic drama appears to have gradually risen
in reputation, from the return of Charles till about the year 1670-1,
when Dryden's "Conquest of Granada" was received with such enthusiastic
applause. The reputation of the poet himself kept pace with that of his
favourite style of composition; and though posterity has judged more
correctly, it may be questioned, whether "Tyrannic Love" and the
"Conquest of Granada" did not place Dryden higher in public esteem, in
1670, than his "Virgil" and "Fables" in 1700. He was, however, now to
experience the inconveniencies of elevation, and to sustain an attack
upon the style of writing which he had vindicated and practised, as well
as to repel the efforts of rivals, who boasted of outstripping him in
the very road to distinction, which he had himself pointed out. The Duke
of Buckingham attacked the system of rhyming plays from the foundation;
Leigh [Transcriber's note: Print unclear], Clifford, and other
scribblers, wrote criticisms [Transcriber's note: Print unclear] upon
those of our author in particular; and Elkanah Settle was able to form a
faction heretical enough to maintain, that he could write such
compositions better than Dryden.

The witty farce of the "Rehearsal" is said to have been meditated by its
authors (for it was the work of several hands) so early as a year or two
after the Restoration, when Sir William Davenant's operas and tragedies
were the favourite exhibitions. The ostensible author was the witty
George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham whose dissipation was marked with
shades of the darkest profligacy. He lived an unprincipled statesman, a
fickle projector, a wavering friend, a steady enemy; and died a
bankrupt, an outcast, and a proverb. The Duke was unequal to that
masculine satire, which depends for edge and vigour upon the conception
and expression of the author.[6] But he appears to have possessed
considerable powers of discerning what was ludicrous, and enough of
subordinate humour to achieve an imitation of colloquial peculiarities,
or a parody upon remarkable passages of poetry,--talents differing as
widely from real wit as mimicry does from true comic action. Besides,
Buckingham, as a man of fashion and a courtier, was master of the
_persiflage_, or jargon, of the day, so essentially useful as the medium
of conveying light humour. He early distinguished himself as an opponent
of the rhyming plays. Those of the Howards, of Davenant, and others, the
first which appeared after the Reformation, experienced his opposition.
At the representation of the "United Kingdoms," by the Honourable Edward
Howard, a brother of Sir Robert, the Duke's active share in damning the
piece was so far resented by the author and his friends that he narrowly
escaped sanguinary proofs of their displeasure.[7] This specimen of
irritation did not prevent his meditating an attack upon the whole body
of modern dramatists; in which he had the assistance of several wits,
who either respected the ancient drama, or condemned the modern style,
or were willing to make common cause with a Duke against a
poet-laureate. These were, the witty author of Hudibras, who, while
himself starving,[8] amused his misery by ridiculing his contemporaries;
Sprat, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, then Buckingham's chaplain; and
Martin Clifford, afterwards Master of the Charter-House the author of a
very scurrilous criticism upon some of Dryden's plays, to be mentioned
hereafter. By the joint efforts of this coalition, the "Rehearsal" was
produced; a lively piece, which continues to please, although the plays
which it parodies are no longer read or acted, and although the zest of
the personal satire which it contains has evaporated in the lapse of
time. This attack on the reigning taste was long threatened ere it was
made; and the precise quarter to be assailed was varied more than once.
Prior says, that Buckingham suspended his attack till he was certain
that the Earl of Dorset would not "rehearse on him again." The principal
character was termed, in the original sketch, Bilboa, a name expressing
a traveller and soldier, under which Sir Robert Howard, or Sir William
Davenant, was designated The author of the "Key to the Rehearsal"
affirms, that Sir Robert was the person meant; but Mr. Malone is of
opinion, that Davenant is clearly pointed out by the brown paper patch,
introduced in ridicule of that which Davenant really wore upon his nose.
Yet as this circumstance was retained when the character was assigned to
Dryden, the poet of the "Rehearsal" may be considered as in some degree
a knight of the shire, representing all the authors of the day, and
uniting in his person their several absurd peculiarities. The first
sketch of the "Rehearsal" was written about 1664, but the representation
was prevented by the theatres being shut upon the plague and fire of
London. When they were again opened, the plays of the Howards, of
Stapleton, etc., had fallen into contempt by their own demerit, and were
no longer a well-known or worthy object of ridicule. Perhaps also there
was a difficulty in bringing the piece forward, while, of the persons
against whom its satire was chiefly directed, Davenant was manager of
the one theatre, and Dryden a sharer in the other. The death of Davenant
probably removed this difficulty: and the success of Dryden in the
heroic drama; the boldness with which he stood forth, not only as a
practiser, but as the champion of that peculiar style; a certain
provoking tone of superiority in his critical essays, which, even when
flowing from conscious merit, is not easily tolerated by contemporaries;
and perhaps his situation as poet-laureate, a post which has been always
considered as a fair butt for the shafts of ridicule,--induced
Buckingham to resume the plan of his satire, and to place Dryden in the
situation designed originally for Davenant or Howard. That the public
might be at no loss to assign the character of Bayes to the laureate,
his peculiarities of language were strictly copied. Lacy the actor was
instructed by Buckingham himself how to mimic his voice and manner; and,
in performing the part, he wore a dress exactly resembling Dryden's
usual habit. With these ill-natured precautions, the "Rehearsal" was, in
1671, brought forward for the first time by the King's Company. As,
besides the reputation of Dryden, that of many inferior poets, but
greater men, was assailed by the Duke's satire, it would appear that the
play met a stormy reception on the first night of representation The
friends of the Earl of Orrery, of Sir Robert Howard and his brothers,
and other men of rank, who had produced heroic plays, were loud and
furious in their opposition. But, as usually happens, the party who
laughed, got the advantage over that which was angry, and finally drew
the audience to their side. When once received, the success of the
"Rehearsal" was unbounded. The very popularity of the plays ridiculed
aided the effect of the satire, since everybody had in their
recollection the originals of the passages parodied. Besides the
attraction of personal severity upon living and distinguished literary
characters, and the broad humour of the burlesque, the part of Bayes had
a claim to superior praise, as drawn with admirable attention to the
foibles of the poetic tribe. His greedy appetite for applause; his testy
repulse of censure or criticism; his inordinate and overwhelming vanity,
not unmixed with a vein of flattery to those who he hopes will gratify
him by returning it in kind; finally, that extreme, anxious, and
fidgeting attention to the minute parts of what even in whole is scarce
worthy of any,--are, I fear, but too appropriate qualities of the
"_genus vatum_"