John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  The historical passages, corresponding in many particulars with such striking accuracy, offered an excellent groundwork for a political play, and the “Duke of Guise” was composed accordingly; Dryden making use of the scenes which he had formerly written on the subject, and Lee contributing the remainder, which he eked out by some scenes and speeches adopted from the “Massacre of Paris,” then, lying by him in manuscript. The court, however, considered the representation of the piece as at least of dubious propriety. The parallel was capable of being so extended as to exhibit no very flattering picture of the king’s politics; and, on the other hand, it is possible, that the fate of the Duke of Guise, as identified with Monmouth, might shock the feelings of Charles, and the justice of the audience.

  Accordingly, we learn from the “Vindication,” that the representation of the piece was prohibited; that it lay in the hands of the lord chamberlain (Henry Lord Arlington) from before mid-summer, 1682, till two months after that term; and that orders were not finally given for its being acted until the month of December in the same year. The king’s tenderness for the Duke of Monmouth had by this time so far given way, that he had ordered his arrest at Stafford; and, from the dark preparations on both sides, it was obvious, that no measures were any longer to be kept betwixt them. All the motives of delicacy and prudence, which had prevented the representation of this obnoxious party performance, were now therefore annihilated or overlooked.

  Our author’s part of the “Duke of Guise” is important, though not of great extent, as his scenes contain some of the most striking political sketches. The debate of the Council of Sixteen, with which the play opens, was his composition; the whole of the fourth act, which makes him responsible for the alleged parallel betwixt Guise and Monmouth, and the ridicule cast upon the sheriffs and citizens of the popular party, with the first part of the fifth, which implicates him in vindicating the assassination of Guise. The character and sentiments of the king, in these scenes, are drawn very closely after Davila, as the reader will easily see, from the Italian original subjoined in the notes. That picturesque historian had indeed anticipated almost all that even a poet could do, in conveying a portraiture, equally minute and striking, of the stormy period which he had undertaken to describe; and, had his powers of description 009 been inferior, it is probable, that Dryden, hampered as he was, by restraints of prudence and delicacy, would not have chosen to go far beyond the authority to which he referred the lord chamberlain. The language of the play, at least in these scenes, seldom rises above that of the higher tone of historical oratory; and the descriptions are almost literally taken from Davila, and thrown into beautiful verse. In the character of Marmoutiere, there seems to be an allusion to the duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, whose influence was always, and sometimes successfully, used to detach her husband from the desperate schemes of Shaftesbury and Armstrong. The introduction of the necromancer, Malicorn, seems to refer to some artifices, by which the party of Monmouth endeavoured to call to their assistance the sanction of supernatural powers. The particular story of Malicorn is said to be taken from a narrative in Rosset’s Histoires Tragiques, a work which the present editor has never seen. In the conference between Malicorn and Melanax, Dryden has made much use of his astrological knowledge; and its mystical terms give a solemnity to the spirit’s predictions, which was probably deepened by the poet’s secret belief in this visionary study. As he borrowed liberally from Davila in the other parts of the play, he has not here disdained to use the assistance of Pulci, from whose romantic poem he has translated one or two striking passages, as the reader will find upon consulting the notes. The last scene betwixt the necromancer and the fiend is horribly fine: 010 the description of the approach of the Evil One, and the effect which his presence produces upon the attendants, the domestic animals, and the wizard himself, is an instance, amongst many, of the powerful interest which may be produced by a judicious appeal to the early prejudices of superstition. I may be pardoned, however, when I add, that such scenes are, in general, unfit for the stage, where the actual appearance of a demon is apt to excite emotions rather ludicrous than terrific. Accordingly, that of Dryden failed in the representation. The circumstance, upon which the destruction of the wizard turns, is rather puerile; but there are many similar fables in the annals of popular superstition.

  Lee’s part of this play is, in general, very well written, and contains less rant than he usually puts in the mouths of his characters.

  The factions have been long at rest which were so deeply agitated by the first representation of this performance; yet some pains has been taken to trace those points of resemblance, which gave so much offence to one party, and triumph to the other. 011 Many must doubtless have escaped our notice; but enough remains to shew the singular felicity with which Dryden, in the present instance, as in that of “Absalom and Achitophel,” could adapt the narrative of ancient or foreign transactions to the political events of his own time, and “moralize two meanings in one word.” Altogether abstracted from this consideration, the “Duke of Guise,” as a historical play, possesses merit amply sufficient to rescue it from the oblivion into which it has fallen.

  The play was first acted 4th December, 1682, and encountered a stormy and dubious, if not an unfavourable, reception. But as, the strength of the court party increased, the piece was enabled to maintain its ground with more general approbation. It was performed by the united companies, and printed in 1683.

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  ACT I.

  ACT II.

  ACT III.

  ACT IV.

  ACT V.

  EPILOGUE.

  VINDICATION OF THE DUKE OF GUISE.

  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LAWRENCE, EARL OF ROCHESTER, &c.

  My Lord,

  The authors of this poem present it humbly to your lordship’s patronage, if you shall think it worthy 014 of that honour. It has already been a confessor, and was almost made a martyr for the royal cause: but having stood two trials from its enemies, — one before it was acted, another in the representation, — and having been in both acquitted, it is now to stand the public censure in the reading: where since, of necessity, it must have the same enemies, we hope it may also find the same friends; and therein we are secure, not only of the greater number, but of the more honest and loyal party. We only expected bare justice in the permission to have it acted; and that we had, after a severe and long examination, from an upright and knowing judge, who, having heard both sides, and examined the merits of the cause, in a strict perusal of the play, gave sentence for us, that it was neither a libel, nor a parallel of particular persons. In the representation itself, it was persecuted with so notorious malice by one side, that it procured us the partiality of the other; so that the favour more than recompensed the prejudice. And it is happier to have been saved (if so we were) by the indulgence of our good and faithful fellow-subjects, than by our own deserts; because, thereby the weakness of the faction is discovered, which, in us, at that time attacked the government, and stood combined, like the members of the rebellious League, against the lawful sovereign authority. To what topic will they have recourse, when they are manifestly beaten from their chief post, which has always been popularity, and majority of voices? They will tell us, — that the voices of a people are not to be gathered in a play-house; and yet, even there, the enemies, as well as friends, have free admission: but, 015 while our argument was serviceable to their interests, they could boast, that the theatres were true protestant; and came insulting to the plays, when their own triumphs were represented. But let them now assure themselves, that they can make the major part of no assembly, except it be of a meeting-house. Their tide of popularity is spent; 016 and the natural current of obedience is, in spite of them, at last prevalent. In which, my lord, after the merciful providence of God, the unshaken resolution, and prudent carriage of the king, and the inviolable duty, and manifest innocence of his royal highness
, — the prudent management of the ministers is also most conspicuous. I am not particular in this commendation, because I am unwilling to raise envy to your lordship, who are too just, not to desire that praise should be communicated to others, which was the common endeavour and co-operation of all. It is enough, my lord, that your own part was neither obscure in it, nor unhazardous. And if ever this excellent government, so well established by the wisdom of our forefathers, and so much shaken by the folly of this age, shall recover its ancient splendour, posterity cannot be so ungrateful as 017 to forget those, who, in the worst of times, have stood undaunted by their king and country, and, for the safeguard of both, have exposed themselves to the malice of false patriots, and the madness of an headstrong rabble. But since this glorious work is yet unfinished, and though we have reason to hope well of the success, yet the event depends on the unsearchable providence of Almighty God, it is no time to raise trophies, while the victory is in dispute; but every man, by your example, to contribute what is in his power to maintain so just a cause, on which depends the future settlement and prosperity of three nations. The pilot’s prayer to Neptune was not amiss in the middle of the storm: “Thou mayest do with me, O Neptune, what thou pleasest, but I will be sure to hold fast the rudder.” We are to trust firmly in the Deity, but so as not to forget, that he commonly works by second causes, and admits of our endeavours with his concurrence. For our own parts, we are sensible, as we ought, how little we can contribute with our weak assistance. The most we can boast of, is, that we are not so inconsiderable as to want enemies, whom we have raised to ourselves on no other account than that we are not of their number; and, since that is their quarrel, they shall have daily occasion to hate us more. It is not, my lord, that any man delights to see himself pasquined and affronted by their inveterate scribblers; but, on the other side, it ought to be our glory, that themselves believe not of us what they write. Reasonable men are well satisfied for whose sakes the venom of their party is shed on us; because they see, that at the same time our adversaries spare not those to whom they owe allegiance and veneration. Their despair has pushed them to break those bonds; and it is observable, that the lower they are driven, the 018 more violently they write; as Lucifer and his companions were only proud when angels, but grew malicious when devils. Let them rail, since it is the only solace of their miseries, and the only revenge which, we hope, they now can take. The greatest and the best of men are above their reach; and, for our meanness, though they assault us like footpads in the dark, their blows have done us little harm: we yet live to justify ourselves in open day, to vindicate our loyalty to the government, and to assure your lordship, with all submission and sincerity, that we are

  Your Lordship’s

  Most obedient, faithful servants,

  John Dryden.

  Nat. Lee.

  PROLOGUE

  WRITTEN BY MR DRYDEN. SPOKEN BY MR SMITH.

  Our play’s a parallel: the Holy League

  Begot our Covenant: Guisards got the whig:

  Whate’er our hot-brained sheriffs did advance,

  Was, like our fashions, first produced in France;

  And, when worn out, well scourged, and banished there,

  Sent over, like their godly beggars, here.

  Could the same trick, twice played, our nation gull?

  It looks as if the devil were grown dull;

  Or served us up, in scorn, his broken meat,

  And thought we were not worth a better cheat.

  The fulsome Covenant, one would think in reason,

  Had given us all our bellies full of treason;

  And yet, the name but changed, our nasty nation

  Chews its own excrements, the Association.

  ’Tis true, we have not learned their poisoning way,

  For that’s a mode but newly come in play;

  Resides, your drug’s uncertain to prevail,

  But your true protestant can never fail

  With that compendious instrument, a flail.

  Go on, and bite, even though the hook lies bare;

  Twice in one age expel the lawful heir;

  Once more decide religion by the sword,

  And purchase for us a new tyrant lord.

  Pray for your king, but yet your purses spare;

  Make him not two-pence richer by your prayer.

  To show you love him much, chastise him more,

  And make him very great, and very poor.

  Push him to wars, but still no peace advance;

  Let him lose England, to recover France.

  Cry freedom up, with popular noisy votes,

  And get enough to cut each other’s throats.

  Lop all the rights that fence your monarch’s throne;

  For fear of too much power, pray leave him none.

  A noise was made of arbitrary sway;

  But, in revenge, you whigs have found a way

  An arbitrary duty now to pay.

  Let his own servants turn to save their stake,

  Glean from his plenty, and his wants forsake;

  But let some Judas near his person stay,

  To swallow the last sop, and then betray.

  Make London independent of the crown;

  A realm apart; the kingdom of the town.

  Let ignoramus juries find no traitors,

  And ignoramus poets scribble satires.

  And, that your meaning none may fail to scan,

  Do what in coffee-houses you began, —

  Pull down the master, and set up the man.

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  The King of France.

  Duke of Guise.

  Duke of Mayenne.

  Grillon, Colonel of the Guard.

  Alphonso Corso, a Colonel.

  Belleure, a Courtier.

  Abbot del Bene,

  M. Monfert,}

  }Royalists.

  The Cardinal of Guise.

  Archbishop of Lyons.

  Polin,

  Aumale,

  Bussy,

  The Curate of St Eustace,

  Malicorn, a Necromancer,

  Melanax, a Spirit, Of Guise’s Faction.

  Two Sheriffs,

  Citizens and Rabble, &c.

  Queen Mother.

  Marmoutiere, Niece to Grillon.

  SCENE, — Paris.

  ACT I.

  SCENE I. — The Council of Sixteen seated; an empty Chair prepared for the Duke of Guise.

  Bussy and Polin, two of the Sixteen.

  Buss. Lights there! more lights! What, burn the tapers dim,

  When glorious Guise, the Moses, Gideon, David,

  The saviour of the nation, makes approach?

  Pol. And therefore are we met; the whole sixteen,

  That sway the crowd of Paris, guide their votes,

  Manage their purses, persons, fortunes, lives,

  To mount the Guise, where merit calls him, high,

  And give him a whole heaven for room to shine.

  Enter Curate of St Eustace.

  Buss. The curate of St Eustace comes at last:

  But, father, why so late?

  Cur. I have been taking godly pains to satisfy some scruples raised amongst weak brothers of our party, that were staggering in the cause.

  Pol. What could they find to object?