John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  1st Gent. What flaws and whirls of weather,

  Or rather storms, have been aloft these three days!

  How dark and hot, and full of mutiny,

  And still grows louder. —

  Mas. It has been stubborn weather.

  2d Gent. Strange work at sea: I fear me there’s old tumbling.

  1st Gent. Bless my old uncle’s bark! I have a venture.

  2d Gent. And I more than I’d wish to lose.

  Schol. Do you fear?

  2nd Gent. Ha! how he looks!

  Mas. Nay, mark him better, gentlemen.

  2d Gent. Mercy upon me! how his eyes are altered!

  Mas. Now, tell me how you like him; whether now

  He be that perfect man you credited?

  Schol. Does the sea stagger ye?

  Mas. Now ye have hit the nick.

  Schol. Do ye fear the billows?

  1st Gent. What ails him? who has stirred him?

  Schol. Be not shaken,

  Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through you:

  Let it blow on, blow on! Let the clouds wrestle,

  And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous;

  The sea in hideous mountains rise, and tumble

  Upon a dolphin’s back! I’ll make all tremble,

  For I am Neptune!

  Mas. Now, what think ye of him?

  2d Gent. Alas, poor man!

  Schol. Your bark shall plough through all,

  And not a surge so saucy as disturb her.

  I’ll see her safe; my power shall sail before her.

  Down, ye angry waters all,

  Ye loud whistling whirlwinds, fall!

  Down, ye proud waves, ye storms cease;

  I command ye, be at peace!

  Fright not with your churlish notes,

  Nor bruise the keel of bark that floats.

  No devouring fish come nigh,

  Nor monster in my empery,

  Once show his head, or terror bring,

  But let the weary sailor sing.

  Amphitrite, with white arms,

  Strike my lute, I’ll sing thy charms.

  Mas. He must have music now; I must observe him

  This fit will grow too full else.

  [Music and song.]

  Here, it seems probable, the following Mad Song, betwixt the Scholar and his Mistress, was introduced. Probably the

  Dialogue sustained some alterations in the action, to render the introduction of Phillis more natural; for, in the original, the Scholar, far from having lost his senses by being crossed in love, disclaims acquaintance with the passion during his previous examination.

  1st Gent. Is there no unkindness

  You have conceived from any friend or parent,

  Or scorn from what you loved?

  Schol. No, truly, sir,

  I never yet was master of a faith

  So poor and weak to doubt my friend or kindred;

  The Non-Fiction

  43 Gerrard Street, Westminster — Dryden’s London home

  A plaque commemorating Dryden’s residence in Gerrard Street

  ESSAY OF DRAMATIC POESY

  This essay was published in 1668 and written during the plague year of 1666. Taking up the subject that Philip Sidney had set forth in his Defence of Poesie (1580) and attempting to justify drama as a legitimate form of “poetry” comparable to the epic, Dryden seeks to defend English drama against that of the ancients and the French. The treatise is a structured dialogue between four speakers: Eugenius, Crites, Lisideius, and Neander. On the day that the English fleet encounters the Dutch at sea near the mouth of the Thames, the four friends take a barge downriver towards the noise from the battle.

  Sir William Davenant (1606–1668) was a poet and playwright, who Dryden portrayed as Eugenius in this essay. Davenant was Dryden’s “ingenious” collaborator on their revision of ‘The Tempest’.

  AN ESSAY OF DRAMATICK POESIE

  A N E S S A Y.

  By JOHN DRYDEN Esq;

  Fungar vice cotis, acutum

  Reddere quæ ferrum valet, exors ipsa secandi.

  Horat. De Arte Poet.

  L O N D O N,

  Printed for Henry Herringman, at the Sign of the

  Anchor, on the Lower-walk of the New-

  Exchange. 1668.

  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES LORD BUCKHURST.

  My Lord,

  As I was lately reviewing my loose Papers, amongst the rest I found this Essay, the writing of which in this rude and indigested manner wherein your Lordship now sees it, serv’d as an amusement to me in the Country, when the violence of the last Plague had driven me from the Town. Seeing then our Theaters shut up, I was engag’d in these kind of thoughts with the same delight with which men think upon their absent Mistresses: I confess I find many things in this discourse which I do not now approve; my judgment being a little alter’d since the writing of it, but whether for the better or the worse I know not: Neither indeed is it much material in an Essay, where all I have said is problematical. For the way of writing Playes in verse, which I have seemed to favour, I have since that time laid the Practice of it aside, till I have more leisure, because I find it troublesome and slow. But I am no way alter’d from my opinion of it, at least with any reasons which have oppos’d it. For your Lordship may easily observe that none are very violent against it, but those who either have not attempted it, or who have succeeded ill in their attempt. ’Tis enough for me to have your Lordships example for my excuse in that little which I have done in it; and I am sure my Adversaries can bring no such Arguments against Verse, as the fourth Act of Pompey will furnish me with, in its defence. Yet, my Lord, you must suffer me a little to complain of you, that you too soon withdraw from us a contentment, of which we expected the continuance, because you gave it us so early. ’Tis a revolt without occasion from your Party, where your merits had already rais’d you to the highest commands, and where you have not the excuse of other men that you have been ill us’d, and therefore laid down Armes. I know no other quarrel you can have to Verse, then that which Spurina had to his beauty, when he tore and mangled the features of his Face, onely because they pleas’d too well the lookers on. It was an honour which seem’d to wait for you, to lead out a new Colony of Writers from the Mother Nation: and upon the first spreading of your Ensignes there had been many in a readiness to have follow’d so fortunate a Leader; if not all, yet the better part of Writers.

  Pars, indocili melior grege; mollis & expes

  Inominata perprimat cubila.

  I am almost of opinion, that we should force you to accept of the command, as sometimes the Prætorian Bands have compell’d their Captains to receive the Empire. The Court, which is the best and surest judge of writing, has generally allow’d of Verse; and in the Town it has found favourers of Wit and Quality. As for your own particular, My Lord, you have yet youth, and time enough to give part of it to the divertisement of the Publick, before you enter into the serious and more unpleasant business of the world. That which the French Poet said of the Temple of Love, may be as well apply’d to the Temple of the Muses. The words, as near as I can remember them, were these:

  La jeunesse a mauvaise grace.

  N’ ayant pas adoré dans le temple d’Amour:

  Il faut qu’il entre, & pour le sage

  Si ce nest son vray sejour

  C’est un giste sur son passage.

  I leave the words to work their effect upon your Lordship in their own Language, because no other can so well express the nobleness of the thought; And wish you may be soon call’d to bear a part in the affairs of the Nation, where I know the world expects you, and wonders why you have been so long forgotten; there being no person amongst our young Nobility, on whom the eyes of all men are so much bent. But in the mean time your Lordship may imitate the course of Nature, who gives us the flower before the fruit: that I may speak to you in the language of the Muses, which I have taken from an excellent Poem to the King.


  As Nature, when she fruit designes, thinks fit

  By beauteous blossoms to proceed to it;

  And while she does accomplish all the Spring,

  Birds to her secret operations sing.

  I confess I have no greater reason, in addressing this Essay to your Lordship, then that it might awaken in you the desire of writing something, in whatever kind it be, which might be an honour to our Age and Country. And me thinks it might have the same effect upon you, which Homer tells us the sight of the Greeks and Trojans before the Fleet, had on the spirit of Achilles, who though he had resolved not to ingage, yet found a martial warmth to steal upon him, at the sight of Blows, the sound of Trumpets, and the cries of fighting Men. For my own part, if in treating of this subject I sometimes dissent from the opinion of better Wits, I declare it is not so much to combat their opinions, as to defend my own, which were first made publick. Sometimes, like a Schollar in an Fencing-School I put forth my self, and show my own ill play, on purpose to be better taught. Sometimes I stand desperately to my Armes, like the Foot when deserted by their Horse, not in hope to overcome, but onely to yield on more honourable termes. And yet, my Lord, this war of opinions, you well know, has fallen out among the Writers of all Ages, and sometimes betwixt Friends. Onely it has been prosecuted by some, like Pedants, with violence of words, and manag’d by others like Gentlemen, with candour and ciuility. Even Tully had a Controversie with his dear Atticus; and in one of his Dialogues makes him sustain the part of an Enemy of Philosophy, who in his Letters is his confident of State, and made privy to the most weighty affairs of the Roman Senate. And the same respect which was paid by Tully to Atticus, we find return’d to him afterwards by Cæsar on a like occasion, who answering his Book in praise of Cato, made it not so much his business to condemn Cato, as to praise Cicero. But that I may decline some part of the encounter with my Adversaries, whom I am neither willing to combate, nor well able to resist; I will give your Lordship the Relation of a Dispute betwixt some of our Wits upon this subject, in which they did not onely speak to Playes in Verse, but mingled, in the freedom of Discourse, some thing of the Ancient, many of the Modern wayes of writing, comparing those with these, and the Wits of our Nation with those of others: ’tis true they differ’d in their opinions, as ’tis probable they would: neither do I take upon me to reconcile, but to relate them: and that as Tacitus professes of himself, Sine studio partium aut ira: without Passion or Interest; leaving your Lordship to decide it in favour of which part you shall judge most reasonable, and withall, to pardon the many errours of,

  Your Lordships most obedient humble Servant,

  JOHN DRYDEN.

  TO THE READER.

  The drift of the ensuing Discourse was chiefly to vindicate the honour of our English Writers, from the censure of those who unjustly prefer the French before them. This I intimate, least any should think me so exceeding vain, as to teach others an Art which they understand much better than my self. But if this incorrect Essay, written in the Country without the help of Books, or advice of Friends, shall find any acceptance in the world, I promise to my self a better success of the second part, wherein the Vertues and Faults of the English Poets, who have written either in this, the Epique, or the Lyrique way, will be more fully treated of, and their several styles impartially imitated.

  AN ESSAY OF DRAMATICK POESIE.

  It was that memorable day, in the first Summer of the late War, when our Navy ingag’d the Dutch: a day wherein the two most mighty and best appointed Fleets which any age had ever seen, disputed the command of the greater half of the Globe, the commerce of Nations, and the riches of the Universe. While these vast floating bodies, on either side, mov’d against each other in parallel lines, and our Country men, under the happy conduct of his Royal Highness, went breaking, by little and little, into the line of the Enemies; the noise of the Cannon from both Navies reach’d our ears about the City: so that all men, being alarm’d with it, and in a dreadful suspence of the event, which we knew was then deciding, every one went following the sound as his fancy led him; and leaving the Town almost empty, some took towards the Park, some cross the River, others down it; all seeking the noise in the depth of silence.

  Amongst the rest, it was the fortune of Eugenius, Crites, Lisideius and Neander, to be in company together: three of them persons whom their witt and Quality have made known to all the Town: and whom I have chose to hide under these borrowed names, that they may not suffer by so ill a relation as I am going to make of their discourse.

  Taking then a Barge which a servant of Lisideus had provided for them, they made haste to shoot the Bridge, and left behind them that great fall of waters which hindred them from hearing what they desired: after which, having disiingag’d themselves from many Vessels which rode at Anchor in the Thames, and almost blockt up the passage towards Greenwich, they order’d the Watermen to let fall their Oares more gently; and then every one favouring his own curiosity with a strict silence, it was not long ere they perceiv’d the Air break about them like the noise of distant Thunder, or of Swallows in a Chimney: those little undulations of sound, though almost vanishing before they reach’d them, yet still seeming to retain somewhat of their first horrour which they had betwixt the Fleets: after they had attentively listned till such time as the sound by little and little went from them; Eugenius lifting up his head, and taking notice of it, was the first who congratulated to the rest that happy Omen of our Nations Victory: adding, we had but this to desire in confirmation of it, that we might hear no more of that noise which was now leaving the English Coast. When the rest had concur’d in the same opinion, Crites, a person of a sharp judgment, and somewhat too delicate a taste in wit, which the world have mistaken in him for ill nature, said, smiling to us, that if the concernment of this battel had not been so exceeding great, he could scarce have wish’d the Victory at the price he knew must pay for it, in being subject to the reading and hearing of so many ill verses as he was sure would be made upon it; adding, that no Argument could scape some of those eternal Rhimers, who watch a Battel with more diligence then the Ravens and birds of Prey; and the worst of them surest to be first in upon the quarry, while the better able, either out of modesty writ not at all, or set that due value upon their Poems, as to let them be often call’d for and long expected! there are some of those impertinent people you speak of, answer’d Lisideius, who to my knowledg, are already so provided, either way, that they can produce not onely a Panegirick upon the Victory, but, if need be, a funeral elegy upon the Duke: and after they have crown’d his valour with many Lawrels, at last deplore the odds under which he fell, concluding that his courage deserv’d a better destiny. All the company smil’d at the conceipt of Lisideius, but Crites, more eager then before, began to make particular exceptions against some Writers, and said the publick Magistrate ought to send betimes to forbid them; and that it concern’d the peace and quiet of all honest people, that ill Poets should be as well silenc’d as seditious Preachers. In my opinion, replyed Eugenius, you pursue your point too far; for as to my own particular, I am so great a lover of Poesie, that I could wish them all rewarded who attempt but to do well; at least I would not have them worse us’d then Sylla the Dictator did one of their brethren heretofore: Quem in concione vidimus (says Tully speaking of him) cum ei libellum malus poeta de populo subjecisset, quod epigramma in eum fecisset tantummodo alternis versibus longiuculis, statim ex iis rebus quæ tunc vendebat jubere ei præmium tribui, sub ea conditione ne quid postea scriberet. I could wish with all my heart, replied Crites, that many whom we know were as bountifully thank’d upon the same condition, that they would never trouble us again. For amongst others, I have a mortal apprehension of two Poets, whom this victory with the help of both her wings will never be able to escape; ’tis easie to guess whom you intend, said Lisideius; and without naming them, I ask you if one of them does not perpetually pay us with clenches upon words and a certain clownish kind of raillery? if now and then he does not offer at
a Catecresis or Clevelandism, wresting and torturing a word into another meaning: In fine, if he be not one of those whom the French would call un mauvais buffon; one that is so much a well-willer to the Satire, that he spares no man; and though he cannot strike a blow to hurt any, yet ought to be punish’d for the malice of the action, as our Witches are justly hang’d because they think themselves so; and suffer deservedly for believing they did mischief, because they meant it. You have described him, said Crites, so exactly, that I am affraid to come after you with my other extremity of Poetry: He is one of those who having had some advantage of education and converse, knows better then the other what a Poet should be, but puts it into practice more unluckily then any man; his stile and matter are every where alike; he is the most calm, peaceable Writer you ever read: he never disquiets your passions with the least concernment, but still leaves you in as even a temper as he found you; he is a very Leveller in Poetry, he creeps along with ten little words in every line, and helps out his Numbers with For to, and Vnto, and all the pretty Expletives he can find, till he draggs them to the end of another line; while the Sense is left tir’d half way behind it; he doubly starves all his Verses, first for want of thought, and then of expression; his Poetry neither has wit in it, nor seems to have it; like him in Martiall:

  Pauper videri Cinna vult, & est pauper:

  He affects plainness, to cover his want of imagination: when he writes the serious way, the highest flight of his fancy is some miserable Antithesis, or seeming contradiction; and in the Comick he is still reaching at some thin conceit, the ghost of a Jest, and that too flies before him, never to be caught; these Swallows which we see before us on the Thames, are just resemblance of his wit: you may observe how near the water they stoop, how many proffers they make to dip, and yet how seldome they touch it: and when they do, ’tis but the surface: they skim over it but to catch a gnat, and then mount into the ayr and leave it. Well Gentlemen, said Eugenius, you may speak your pleasure of these Authors; but though I and some few more about the Town may give you a peaceable hearing, yet, assure your selves, there are multitudes who would think you malicious and them injur’d: especially him who you first described; he is the very Withers of the City: they have bought more Editions of his Works then would serve to lay under all the Pies at the Lord Mayor’s Christmass. When his famous Poem first came out in the year 1660, I have seen them reading it in the midst of Change-time; many so vehement they were at it, that they lost their bargain by the Candles ends: but what will you say, if he has been received amongst the great Ones? I can assure you he is, this day, the envy of a great person, who is Lord in the Art of Quibbling; and who does not take it well, that any man should intrude so far into his Province. All I would wish replied Crites, is, that they who love his Writings, may still admire him, and his fellow Poet: qui Bavium non odit, &c. is curse sufficient. And farther, added Lisideius, I believe there is no man who writes well, but would think himself very hardly dealt with, if their Admirers should praise any thing of his: Nam quos contemnimus eorum quoque laudes contemnimus. There are so few who write well in this Age, said Crites, that me-thinks any praises should be wellcome; then neither rise to the dignity of the last Age, nor to any of the Ancients; and we may cry out of the Writers of this time, with more reason than Petronius of his, Pace vestra liceat dixisse, primi omnium eloquentiam perdidistis: you have debauched the true old Poetry so far, that Nature, which is the soul of it, is not in any of your Writings.