In the
Oxford prologues, on the other hand, the audience furnished by that
seat of the Muses, as of more competent judgment, are addressed with
more respectful deference by the poet.
Oxford prologues, on the other hand, the audience furnished by that
seat of the Muses, as of more competent judgment, are addressed with
more respectful deference by the poet.
Dryden - Complete
}
The name of great your martial mind will suit;
But justice is your darling attribute:
Of all the Greeks, 'twas but one hero's due,[329]
And, in him, Plutarch prophesied of you.
A prince's favours but on few can fall,
But justice is a virtue shared by all.
Some kings the name of conquerors have assumed,
Some to be great, some to be gods presumed;
But boundless power, and arbitrary lust,
Made tyrants still abhor the name of just;
They shunned the praise this godlike virtue gives,
And feared a title that reproached their lives.
The power, from which all kings derive their state,
Whom they pretend, at least, to imitate,
Is equal both to punish and reward;
For few would love their God, unless they feared.
Resistless force and immortality
Make but a lame, imperfect deity;
Tempests have force unbounded to destroy,
And deathless being even the damned enjoy;
And yet heaven's attributes, both last and first,
One without life, and one with life accurst;
But justice is heaven's self, so strictly he,
That could it fail, the godhead could not be.
This virtue is your own; but life and state
Are, one to fortune subject, one to fate:
Equal to all, you justly frown or smile; }
Nor hopes nor fears your steady hand beguile; }
Yourself our balance hold, the world's our isle. }
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 289: The 10th of June. ]
[Footnote 290: Whitsunday. ]
[Footnote 291: Trinity Sunday, the octave of Whitsunday. ]
[Footnote 292: Note I. ]
[Footnote 293: Alluding only to the commonwealth party here, and in
other parts of the poem. DRYDEN. --See Note II. ]
[Footnote 294: Rev. xii. v. 4. ]
[Footnote 295: The Cross. ]
[Footnote 296: The Crescent, which the Turks bear for their arms.
DRYDEN. Note III. ]
[Footnote 297: The Pope, in the time of Constantine the Great; alluding
to the present Pope. DRYDEN. --See Note IV. ]
[Footnote 298: King James II. ]
[Footnote 299: Bill of Exclusion. ]
[Footnote 300: The Lemmon Ore, on which the vessel of King James was
lost in his return from Scotland. The crew perished, and he himself
escaped with difficulty. See Vol. IX. p. 401. ]
[Footnote 301: Venerable is here used in its original sense, as
deserving of veneration. But the epithet has been so commonly connected
with old age, that a modern poet would hardly venture to apply it to an
infant. ]
[Footnote 302: Note V. ]
[Footnote 303: Alluding to the temptation in the wilderness. ]
[Footnote 304:
_Restitit Æneas, clarâque in luce refulsit,
Os, humerosque deo similis; namque ipsa decoram
Cæsariem nato genetrix, lumenque juventæ
Purpureum, et lætos oculis afflarat honores. _
Æneid, Lib. I.
]
[Footnote 305: Edward the Black Prince, born on Trinity Sunday. ]
[Footnote 306: The motto of the poem explained. ]
[Footnote 307: St George. ]
[Footnote 308: The great Civil War. ]
[Footnote 309: The Fire of London. ]
[Footnote 310: The Popish plot. ]
[Footnote 311: The Test-act. ]
[Footnote 312: The death of the Jesuits, executed for the Plot. ]
[Footnote 313: All the queen's former children died in infancy. ]
[Footnote 314: The year 1688, big with so many events of importance,
commenced very unfavourably with stormy weather, and an epidemical
distemper among men and cattle. ]
[Footnote 315: 1 Kings, chap, xxxiv. ]
[Footnote 316: Note VI. ]
[Footnote 317: Original sin, supposed to be washed off by baptism. ]
[Footnote 318: See "The Hind and the Panther," p. 224. ]
[Footnote 319: The prince christened, but not named. ]
[Footnote 320: Jehovah, or the name of God, unlawful to be pronounced
by the Jews. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 321: Some authors say, that the true name of Rome was kept a
secret, _ne hostes incantamentis deos elicerent_. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 322: Candia, where Jupiter was born and lived secretly.
DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 323: Pallas, or Minerva, said by the poets to have been bred
up by hand. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 324: The prince had no wet nurse. ]
[Footnote 325: The sudden false report of the prince's death. See Note
VII. ]
[Footnote 326: 2 Kings, chap. iv. ]
[Footnote 327: 1 Samuel, chap. iv. v. 10. ]
[Footnote 328: Exodus, chap. xvii. v. 8. ]
[Footnote 329: Aristides. See his Life in Plutarch. ]
NOTES
ON
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
Note I.
_Hail, son of prayers! by holy violence
Drawn down from heaven! _----P. 290.
We have noticed, in the introduction, that the birth of a Prince of
Wales, at a time of such critical importance to the Catholic faith,
was looked upon, by the Papists, as little less than miraculous. Some
talked of the petition of the Duchess of Modena to Our Lady of Loretto;
and Burnet affirms, that, in that famous chapel, there is actually a
register of the queen's conception, in consequence of her mother's
vow. But, in that case, the good duchess's intercession must have been
posthumous; for she died upon the 19th July, and the queen's time
run from the 6th of October. Others ascribed the event to the king's
pilgrimage to St Winifred's Well; and others, among whom was the Earl
of Melfort, suffered their zeal to hurry them into profaneness, and
spoke of the angel of the Lord moving the Bath waters, like the Pool of
Bethsaida. But the Jesuits claimed to their own prayers the principal
merit of procuring this blessing, which, indeed, they had ventured to
prophecy; for, among other devices which that order exhibited to the
English ambassador from James to the Pope, there was, according to Mr
Misson, one of a lily, from whose leaves distilled some drops of water,
which were once supposed, by naturalists, to become the seed of new
lilies: the motto was--_Lachrimor in prolem_--"I weep for children. "
Beneath which was the following distich:
_Pro natis, Jacobe, gemis, flos candide regum!
Hos natura tibi si neget, astra dabunt. _
For sons, fair flower of kings, why melts thine eye?
The heavens shall grant what nature may deny.
Note II.
_For, see the dragon winged on his way,
To watch the travail, and devour the prey. _--P. 291.
"And the dragon stood before the woman, who was ready to be delivered,
for to devour her child, as soon as it was born,"--Revel. xii. 4.
Dryden is at pains, by an original marginal note, which, with others,
is restored in this edition, to explain, that, by this allusion here,
and in other parts of the poem, he meant "the commonwealth's party. "
The acquittal of the bishops, on the 17th of June, two days before the
poem was licensed, must have excited a prudential reverence for the
church of England in the moment of her triumph. The poet fixes upon
this commonwealth party therefore, exclusively, the common reports
which had been circulated during the queen's pregnancy, and which are
thus noticed in the (supposititious) letter to Father La Chaise: "As
to the queen's being with child, that great concern goes as well as
we could wish, notwithstanding all the satirical discourses of the
heretics, who content themselves to vent their poison in libels, which,
by night, they disperse in the street, or fix upon the walls. There was
one lately found upon a pillar of a church, that imported, that such a
day thanks should be given to God for the queen's being great with a
cushion. If one of these pasquil-makers could be discovered, he would
but have an ill time on't, and should be made to take his last farewell
at Tyburn. "
The usual topics of wit, during the queen's pregnancy, were, allusions
to a cushion, a tympany, &c. &c. ; and Partridge, the Protestant
almanack-maker, utters the following predictions:--"That there was some
bawdy project on foot, either about buying, selling, or procuring, a
child or children, for some pious uses. " And, again, "Some child is to
be topped upon the lawful heirs, to cheat them out of their right and
estate. "--"God preserve the kingdom of England from invasion! for about
this time I fear it in earnest, and keep the Protestants there from
being dragooned. "
One single circumstance is sufficient to rout all suspicions thus
carefully infused into the people. It is well known, and is noticed
in one of L'Estrange's papers at the time, that a similar outcry was
raised during a former pregnancy of the queen; but the child proving a
female, there was no use for pushing the calumny any further upon that
occasion.
Note III.
_Already has he lifted high the sign,
Which crowned the conquering arms of Constantine;
The moon grows pale at that presaging sight,
And half her train of stars have lost their light. _--P. 292.
The public exercise of the Catholic religion in England is compared
to the miraculous display of the cross, with the motto, _In hoc signo
vinces_; which is said to have appeared to Constantine on the eve of
his great victory.
The war against the Turks, which was now raging in Hungary, seems
to have occupied much of James's attention. He amused himself with
anxiety about the fate of this holy warfare, as he probably thought
it, while his own crown was tottering on his head. In all his letters
to the Prince of Orange, he expresses his wishes for the peace of
Christendom, that the emperor and the Venetians might have leisure to
prosecute the war against the Turks; and conjectures about the taking
of Belgrade, and the progress of the Duke of Lorraine, are very gravely
sent, as interesting matter to the prince, who was anticipating the
conquest of England, and the dethronement of his father-in-law. There
may be something of affectation in this; but, as Dryden takes up
the same tone, it may be supposed to have forwarded James's general
conversation, as well as his letters to the Prince of Orange. --_See_
DALRYMPLE'S _Memoirs_. _Appendix to Book V. _
Note IV.
_Behold another Sylvester, to bless
The sacred standard, and secure success;
Large of his treasures, of a soul so great,
As fills and crowds his universal seat. _--P. 292.
Dryden talks of the Pope with the respect of a good Catholic.
Nevertheless it happened, by a very odd chance, that, while the throne
of England was held by a Catholic, for the first time during the course
of a century, the chair of St Peter was occupied by Innocent XI. who
acquired the uncommon epithet of the Protestant Pope. He received, with
great coldness, the Earl of Castlemain, whom James sent to Rome as his
ambassador, and refused the only two requests which a king of England
had made to Rome since the days of Henry VIII. , although they were only
a dispensation to Petre the king's confessor, to hold a bishopric,
and another to the Mareschal D'Humier's daughter to marry within the
prohibited degrees. Nay, the Pope is said to have privately admitted
the Prince of Orange's envoy to his confidence, while he treated
Castlemaine with so much contempt. The cause of this coldness was the
Pope's quarrel with James's ally, Louis, and his dislike to the order
of Jesuits, by whom the king of England was entirely ruled. In truth,
Innocent XI. was much more anxious to maintain the privileges of the
Roman see against those princes who retained her communion, than to add
England to a flock which was become so mutinous and untractable. He
was, besides, a man of no extended views, and chiefly concerned himself
with managing the papal revenue, involved in debt by a succession of
wasteful pontificates. To this the conversion of England promised no
immediate addition, and, with the narrowness of view natural to his
pursuits, Innocent XI. thought it better to employ his exertions in
realizing an immediate income, than in endeavouring to extend the faith
and authority of the church, by embarking in a design of great doubt
and hazard. He was, therefore, but a very poor representative of Pope
Sylvester. As for the last two lines, they contain, what we seldom
meet with in Dryden's poetry, a compliment not only bombastic, but
unappropriate, and even unmeaning.
Note V.
_Born in broad day-light, that the ungrateful rout
May find no room for a remaining doubt. _--P. 293.
In these lines, and the following, where the poet, with indecent
freedom, compares the suspicions entertained of a spurious birth to
the devil's doubts concerning our Saviour's godhead, he alludes to
those circumstances of publicity, which one would have supposed might
have rendered the birth of the prince indisputable. It took place at
ten o'clock in the morning; and eighteen privy counsellors, besides a
number of ladies, were present at the delivery. But the party violence
of the period was so extravagant, as to receive and circulate a variety
of reports, inconsistent with each other, and agreeing only in the
general conclusion, that the child was an imposition upon the nation.
The reasoning of the Bishop of Salisbury, on this point, is admirably
summed up by Smollet.
"On the 10th of June, 1688, the queen was suddenly seized with
labour-pains, and delivered of a son, who was baptized by the name of
James, and declared Prince of Wales. All the Catholics and friends of
James were transported with the most extravagant joy at the birth of
this child; while great part of the nation consoled themselves with
the notion, that it was altogether supposititious. They carefully
collected a variety of circumstances, upon which this conjecture
was founded; and though they were inconsistent, contradictory, and
inconclusive, the inference was so agreeable to the views and passions
of the people, that it made an impression which, in all probability,
will never be totally effaced. Dr Burnet, who seems to have been at
uncommon pains to establish this belief, and to have consulted all the
Whig nurses in England upon the subject, first pretends to demonstrate,
that the queen was not with child; secondly, that she was with child,
but miscarried; thirdly, that a child was brought into the queen's
apartment in a warming-pan; fourthly, that there was no child at all
in the room; fifthly, that the queen actually bore a child, but it
died that same day; sixthly, that it had the fits, of which it died at
Richmond; therefore, the Chevalier de St George must be the fruit of
four different impostures. "
Note VI.
_Five months to discord and debate were given. _--P. 295.
During the five months preceding the birth of the Chevalier de St
George, James was wholly engaged by those feuds and dissensions which
tended to render irreparable the breach between him and his subjects.
The arbitrary attacks upon the privileges of Magdalen College, and
of the Charter-House, fell nearly within this period. Above all, the
petition of the seven bishops against reading the Declaration of
Indulgence, their imprisonment, their memorable trial and acquittal,
had all taken place since the month of April; and it is well known
to what a state of violent opposition the nation had been urged by a
train of arbitrary acts of violence, so imprudently commenced, and
perversely insisted in. Dryden, like other men of sense, probably began
to foresee the consequences of so violent and general irritation; and
expresses himself in moderate and soothing language, both as to the
past and future. Nothing is therefore dropt which can offend the church
of England. Perhaps they may have been spared by the royal command;
for it seems, as is hinted by a letter from Halifax to the Prince of
Orange, that, not finding his expectations answered by the dissenters,
whom he had so greatly favoured of late, James entertained thoughts of
returning to his old friends, the High-churchmen; "but the truth is,"
his lordship adds, "the Papists have of late been so hard and fierce
upon them, that the very species of those formerly mistaking men is
destroyed; they have so broken that loom in pieces, that they cannot
now set it up again to work upon it. "--DALRYMPLE'S _Memoirs_. Appendix
to Book V.
Note VII.
----_When the sudden blast,
The face of heaven, and our young sun, o'ercast,
Fame, the swift ill increasing as she rolled,
Disease, despair, and death, at three reprises told. _--P. 297.
There was, Dryden informs us, a report of the prince's death, to which
he alludes. James, in a letter to the Prince of Orange, dated June 12,
mentions the birth of his son on the Sunday preceding, and adds, "the
child was somewhat ill this last night, of the wind, and some gripes,
but is now, blessed be God, very well, and like to have no returns
of it, and is a strong boy. " About this illness, Burnet tells the
following gossipping story: "That night, one Hemings, a very worthy
man, an apothecary by his trade, who lived in St Martin's Lane, the
very next door to a family of an eminent Papist, (Brown, brother to
the Viscount Montacute, lived there;) the wall between his parlour and
their's being so thin, that he could easily hear any thing that was
said with a louder voice, he (Hemings) was reading in his parlour late
at night, when he heard one come into the neighbouring parlour, and
say, with a doleful voice, the Prince of Wales is dead: Upon which a
great many that lived in the house came down stairs very quick. Upon
this confusion he could not hear any thing more; but it was plain they
were in a great consternation. He went with the news next morning to
the bishops in the Tower. The Countess of Clarendon came thither soon
after, and told them, she had been at the young prince's door, but
was denied access: she was amazed at it; and asked, if they knew her:
they said, they did; but that the queen had ordered, that no person
whatsoever should be suffered to come in to him. This gave credit to
Hemings' story; and looked as if all was ordered to be kept shut up
close, till another child was found. One, that saw the child two days
after, said to me, that he looked strong, and not like a child so newly
born. "
The poem of Dryden plainly proves, that such a report was so far
from being confined among the Catholics, that it was spread over
all the town; and what the worthy Mr Hemings over-heard in his next
neighbour's, the Papist's, might probably have been heard in any
company in London that evening, although the mode of communication
would doubtless have been doleful or joyous, according to the party and
religion of the news-bearer.
PROLOGUES
AND
EPILOGUES.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
The prologue of the English drama was originally, like that of the
ancients, merely a kind of argument of the play, instructing the
audience concerning those particulars of the plot, which were necessary
in order to understand the opening of the piece. That this might be
done more artificially, it was often spoken in the character of some
person connected with the preceding history of the intrigue, though
not properly one of the _dramatis personæ_. But when increasing
refinement introduced the present mode of opening the action in the
course of the play itself, the prologue became a preliminary address
to the audience, bespeaking their attention and favour for the piece.
The epilogue had always borne this last character, being merely an
extension of the ancient "_valete et plaudite_;" an opportunity seized
by the performers, after resigning their mimic characters, to pay their
respects to the public in their own, and to solicit its approbation
of their exertions. By degrees it assumed a more important shape, and
was indulged in descanting upon such popular topics as were likely to
interest the audience, even though less immediately connected with the
actor's address of thanks, or the piece they had been performing. Both
the prologue and epilogue had assumed their present character so early
as the days of Shakespeare and Jonson.
With the revival of dramatic entertainments, after the Restoration,
these addresses were revived also; and a degree of consequence seems
to have been attached to them in that witty age, which they did not
possess before, and which has not since been given to them. They were
not only used to propitiate the audience; to apologize for the players,
or poet; or to satirize the follies of the day, which is now their
chief purpose; but they became, during the collision of contending
factions, vehicles of political tenets and political sarcasm, which
could, at no time, be insinuated with more success, than when clothed
in nervous verse, and delivered with all the advantages of elocution
to an audience, whose numbers rendered the impression of poetry and
eloquence more contagious.
It is not surprising that Dryden soon obtained a complete and absolute
superiority in this style of composition over all who pretended to
compete with him. While the harmony of his verse gave that advantage
to the speaker, which was wanting in the harsh, coarse, broken measure
of his contemporaries, his powers of reasoning and of satire left them
as far behind in sense as in sound. This superiority, and the great
influence which he had in the management of the theatre, made it usual
to invoke his assistance in the case of new plays; many of which he
accordingly furnished either with prologues or epilogues. The players
also had recourse to him upon any remarkable occasion; as, when a new
house was opened; when the theatre was honoured by a visit from the
king or duke; when they played at Oxford, during the public acts;
or, in short, in all cases when an occasional prologue was thought
necessary to grace their performance.
The collection of these pieces, which follows, is far from being the
least valuable part of our author's labours. The variety and richness
of fancy which they indicate, is one of Dryden's most remarkable
poetical attributes. Whether the theme be, the youth and inexperience
or the age and past services, of the author; the plainness or
magnificence of a new theatre; the superiority of ancient authors, or
the exaltation of the moderns; the censure of political faction, or
of fashionable follies; the praise of the monarch, or the ridicule
of the administration; the poet never fails to treat it with the
liveliness appropriate to verses intended to be spoken, and spoken
before a numerous assembly. The manner which Dryden assumes, varies
also with the nature of his audience. The prologues and epilogues,
intended for the London stage, are written in a tone of superiority,
as if the poet, conscious of the justice of his own laws of criticism,
rather imposed them upon the public as absolute and undeniable,
than as standing in need of their ratification. And if he sometimes
condescends to solicit, in a more humble style, the approbation of the
audience, and to state circumstances of apology, and pleas of favour,
it is only in the case of other poets; for, in the prologues of his
own plays, he always rather demands than begs their applause; and if
he acknowledges any defects in the piece, he takes care to intimate,
that they are introduced in compliance with the evil taste of the age;
and that the audience must take the blame to themselves, instead of
throwing it upon the writer. This bold, style of address, although it
occasionally drew upon our author the charge of presumption, was,
nevertheless, so well supported by his perception of what was just
in criticism, and his powers of defending even what was actually
wrong, that a miscellaneous audience was, in general, fain to submit
to a domination, as successfully supported as boldly claimed.
In the
Oxford prologues, on the other hand, the audience furnished by that
seat of the Muses, as of more competent judgment, are addressed with
more respectful deference by the poet. [330] He seems, in these, to lay
down his rules of criticism, as it were under correction of superior
judges; and intermingles them with such compliments to the taste and
learning of the members of the university, as he disdains to bestow
upon the motley audience of the metropolis. In one style, the author
seems dictating to scholars, whose conceit and presumption must be
lowered by censure, to make them sensible of their own deficiencies,
and induce them to receive the offered instruction; in the other, he
seems to deliver his opinions before men, whom he acknowledges as his
equals, if not his superiors, in the arts of which he is treating. And
although Brown has very grossly charged Dryden with having affected,
for the university, an esteem and respect, which he was far from really
feeling; and with having exposed its members, in their turn, to the
ridicule of the London audience, whom he had stigmatized in his Oxford
prologues as void of taste and judgment; it is but fair to state, that
nothing can be produced in proof of such an accusation. [331] In another
respect, the reader may remark a pleasing difference between the London
prologues and epilogues, and those spoken at Oxford. The licence
of the times permitted, and even exacted from an author, in these
compositions, the indulgence of an indelicate vein of humour; which,
however humiliating, is, in general, successful in a vulgar or mixed
audience, as turning upon subjects adapted to the meanest capacity.
This continued even down to our times; for, till very lately, it was
expected by the mobbish part of the audience, that they should be
indemnified for the patience with which they had listened to the moral
lessons of a tragedy, by the indecency of the epilogue. In Dryden's
time, this coarse raillery was carried to great excess; but our author,
however culpable in other compositions, is, generally speaking, more
correct than his contemporaries in his prologues and epilogues. In the
Oxford pieces, particularly, where the decorum of manners, suited to
that mother of learning, required him to abstain from all licentious
allusion, Dryden has given some excellent specimens of how little he
needed to rely upon this obvious and vulgar aid, for the amusement of
his audience. Upon the whole, it will be difficult to find pieces of
this occasional nature so interesting and unexceptionable as those
spoken at Oxford. They are, as they ought to be, by far the most
laboured and correct which our author gave to the stage. It may not be
improper to add, that the players were only permitted to visit Oxford
during the Public Acts, which were frequently celebrated on occasions
of public rejoicing. They acted, it would appear, in a Tennis-court,
fitted up as an occasional theatre; and the prologues and epilogues
of Dryden tended doubtless greatly to conciliate the favour of an
audience, consisting of all that was learned in the generation then
mature, and all that was hopeful in that which was rising to succeed it.
The more miscellaneous prologues and epilogues of Dryden are not
without interest. In ridiculing the vices or follies of the age, they
often touch upon circumstances illustrative of manners; and certainly,
though the modern theatres of the metropolis are so ill regulated,
as nearly to exclude modest females from all the house, except the
private boxes, their decorum is superior to that of their predecessors.
If we conceive the boxes filled with women, whose masks levelled
all distinction between the woman of fashion and the courtezan; the
galleries crowded with a rabble, more ferocious and ignorant than
its present inmates; the pit occupied by drunken bullies, whose
quarrels perpetually interrupted the performers, and often ended in
bloodshed, and even murder, upon the spot; we shall have occasion to
congratulate ourselves upon being at least in the way of reformation.
These enormities of his time, Dryden has pointed out, and censured in
his strong and nervous satire. It is to be regretted, that his painting
is often coarse, and sometimes intentionally licentious; although,
as has been already observed, more seldom so than that of most of
his contemporaries. The historical antiquary may also glean some
observations on the state of parties, from those pieces which turn upon
the politics of the day; and there occur numerous hints, which may be
useful to an historian of the drama. Thus the Prologues and Epilogues
form no improper supplement to Dryden's historical poetry.
It remains to say, that all these prologues and epilogues were,
according to the custom of that time, printed on single leaves, or
broadsides, as they are called, and sold by the hawkers at the door
of the theatres. Some of these, but very few, have been preserved by
Mr Luttrell, in the collection belonging to Mr Bindley. If a set of
them existed, I think it probable they would be found to contain many
variations from those editions, which the more mature reflection of
the author gave to the world in the Miscellanies. But the loss is the
less to be lamented, as, in general, the original editions which I have
seen are not only more inaccurate, but coarser and more licentious,
than those which Dryden finally adopted. In the original prologue
of Circe, which is printed in this edition, for example, the reader
will find, that, in place of the well-known apology for an author's
first production, by an appeal to those of Shakespeare, Fletcher,
and Jonson, his youth is only made the subject of some commonplace
raillery. Indeed, so little value did Dryden himself set upon these
occasional effusions before they were collected, and so little did he
consider them as entitled to live in the recollection of the public,
that, on one occasion at least, but probably upon several, he actually
transferred the same prologue from one new play to another. Thus he
reclaimed, from his adversary Shadwell's play of "The True Widow,"
the prologue which he had furnished, and affixed it to the "Widow
Ranter" of Mrs Behn. Sometimes also he laid under contribution former
publications of his own, which he supposed to be forgotten, in order to
furnish out one of these theatrical prefaces. Thus the satire against
the Dutch furnishes the principal part of the prologue and epilogue to
"Amboyna. "
Inaccurate as they seem to have been, the original editions might have
proved useful in arranging the prologues and epilogues according
to their exact dates, which, where they are not attached to any
particular play, can now only be assigned from internal evidence. But
absolute accuracy in this point, though no doubt desirable if it can
be obtained, does not appear to be a point of any serious moment; and,
after having bestowed considerable pains, the Editor will neither
be much ashamed, nor inconsolably sorry, to find, that some of the
prologues and epilogues have been misplaced in the order which he has
adopted.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 330: Our author's several modes of coaxing or bullying the
audience in the prologues, are ridiculed in the "Rehearsal;" where
Bayes says, "You must know there is in nature but two ways of making
very good prologues;--the one is, by civility, by insinuation, good
language, and all that to ---- a ---- in a manner steal your plaudit
from the courtesy of the auditors: the other, by making use of some
certain personal things, which may keep a hank upon such censuring
persons as cannot otherwise, egad, in nature, be hindered from being
too free with their tongues. "]
[Footnote 331: The following is the statement of the accusation in
Tom's peculiar style, being a sort of cant jargon, not void of low
humour:
"_Bayes. _ Now, there being but three remarkable places in the whole
island; that is, the two universities, and the great metropolitan city;
I shall, consequently, confine my discourse only to them: But, first
of all, I must tell you, that I am altogether of my Lord Plausible's
opinion in the "Plain Dealer;" if I chance to commend any place, or
order of men, out of pure friendship, I choose to do it before their
faces; and if I have occasion to speak ill of any person or place,
out of a principle of respect and good manners, I do it behind their
backs. You cannot imagine, Mr Crites, when I visit either of the
two universities, in my own person, or by my commissioners of the
playhouse, how much I am taken with a college life: Oh, there's nothing
like a cheese cut out into farthings! and my Lord Mayor, amidst all
his brutal city luxury, does not dine half so well as a student upon
a single chop of rotten roasted mutton; nay, I can scarce prevail
with myself, for a month or two after, to eat my meat on a plate,
so great a respect have I for a university trencher; and then their
conversation is so learned, and withal so innocent, that I could sit a
whole day together at a coffee-house to hear them dispute about _actus
perspicui_, and _forma misti_. From this beginning I naturally fall a
railing at London, with as much zeal as a Buckingham-shire grazier, who
had his pocket picked at a Smithfield entertainment; or a country lady,
whose obsequious knight has spent his estate among misses, vintners,
and linen-drapers; and then I tell my audience, that a man may walk
farther in the city to meet a true judge of poetry, than ride his horse
on Salisbury Plain to find a house.
London likes grossly, but this nicer pit
Examines, fathoms, all the depths of wit.
You see here, Mr Crites, that scholars won't take Alderman Duncomb's
leaden halfpence for Irish half crowns, while dull Londoner swallows
every thing; and takes it with as little consideration, as a true
Romanist takes a spiritual dose of relicts, that are sealed up with the
council of Trent's coat-of-arms.
_Eugen. _ How was that, Mr Bayes, about the council of Trent? Pray, let
us hear it again.
_Bayes. _ Gad forgive me for't! --it dropt from me ere I was aware; but I
shall in time wear off this hitching in my gait, and walk in Catholic
trammels as well as the best of them; nature, I must confess, is not
overcome on the sudden--But let me see, gentlemen, whether I have any
more lines to our last purpose; oh, here they are!
Poetry, which is in Oxford made
An art, in London only is a trade.
Our poet, could he find forgiveness here,
Would wish it rather than a plaudit there.
You are sensible, without question, how little beholden the city is to
me, when I am upon my progress elsewhere. But 'tis a comfort that this
peremptory humour does not continue long upon me; for, as I have the
grace to disown my mother-university, with a jug in one hand, and a
link in the other, when I am at Oxford,--
Thebes did his green unknowing years engage;
He chuses Athens in his riper age.
So, when I am got amongst my honest acquaintance here in Covent-Garden,
I disown both the sisters, and make myself as merry as a grig, with
their greasy trenchers, rusty salt-sellers, and no napkins, with their
everlasting drinking, and no intervals of fornication to relieve it.
In fine, I make a great scruple of it, whether it be possible for a
man to write sound heroics, and make an accomplished thorough-paced
wit, unless he comes to refine and cultivate himself at London;
unless be knows how many stories high the houses are in Cheapside
and Fleet-street; is acquainted with all the gaming ordinaries about
town, and the rates of porters and hackney-coachmen; has shot the
bridge; seen the tombs at Westminster; heard the Wooden-head speak; can
tell you where the insuring-office is kept; and which of the twelve
companies has the honour of precedence. "
_The Reasons for Mr Bayes changing his Religion_, p. 10.
]
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN
THE FIRST DAY OF THE KING'S HOUSE ACTING AFTER THE FIRE.
_In January_, 1671-2, _the play-house in Drury-Lane_, _occupied by
the King's company_, _took fire_, _and was entirely destroyed_, _with
fifty or sixty adjoining houses_, _which were either involved in
the conflagration_, _or blown up to stop its progress_. _During the
rebuilding of this theatre, the King's servants acted in the old
house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. The following Prologue announces
the distressed situation of the company on their retreat to this
temporary asylum. The sixth couplet alludes to the recent desertion
of the Lincoln's-Inn theatre, by the rival company, called the
Duke's, who were now acting at one in Dorset Gardens, splendidly
fitted up under the direction of Sir William D'Avenant. _
So shipwrecked passengers escaped to land,
So look they, when on the bare beach they stand,
Dropping and cold, and their first fear scarce o'er,
Expecting famine on a desart shore.
From that hard climate we must wait for bread,
Whence even the natives, forced by hunger, fled.
Our stage does human chance present to view,
But ne'er before was seen so sadly true:
You are changed too, and your pretence to see
Is but a nobler name for charity.
Your own provisions furnish out our feasts,
While you, the founders, make yourselves the guests.
Of all mankind beside, fate had some care, }
But for poor Wit no portion did prepare, }
'Tis left a rent-charge to the brave and fair. }
You cherished it, and now its fall you mourn,
Which blind unmannered zealots make their scorn,
Who think that fire a judgment on the stage,
Which spared not temples[332] in its furious rage.
But as our new-built city rises higher, }
So from old theatres may new aspire, }
Since fate contrives magnificence by fire. }
Our great metropolis does far surpass
Whate'er is now, and equals all that was:
Our wit as far does foreign wit excel,
And, like a king, should in a palace dwell.
But we with golden hopes are vainly fed,
Talk high, and entertain you in a shed:
Your presence here, for which we humbly sue,
Will grace old theatres, and build up new.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 332: St Paul's, and other churches, were consumed in the
great fire, then a recent event. ]
PROLOGUE
FOR
THE WOMEN, WHEN THEY ACTED AT THE OLD THEATRE, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS.
_Female performers were first introduced after the Restoration.
They became speedily acceptable to the court and the public.
The dramatic poets were in so many ways indebted to them, that
occasional exertions, dedicated to their benefit, as I presume the
following to have been, were but a suitable return for various
favours received. Our author's intimacy with the beautiful
Mrs Reeves particularly called forth his talents in behalf of
these damsels, distressed as they must have been by the unlucky
burning of the theatre in Drury-Lane. The Prologue occurs in the
Miscellanies; but is, I know not why, omitted by Derrick in his
edition of Dryden's poems. _
Were none of you, gallants, e'er driven so hard,
As when the poor kind soul was under guard,
And could not do't at home, in some by-street
To take a lodging, and in private meet?
Such is our case; we can't appoint our house,
The lovers' old and wonted rendezvous,
But hither to this trusty nook remove;
The worse the lodging is, the more the love.
For much good pastime, many a dear sweet hug,
Is stolen in garrets, on the humble rug.
Here's good accommodation in the pit;
The grave demurely in the midst may sit,
And so the hot Burgundian[333] on the side,
Ply vizard mask, and o'er the benches stride:
Here are convenient upper boxes too, }
For those that make the most triumphant show;}
All that keep coaches, must not sit below. }
There, gallants, you betwixt the acts retire,
And, at dull plays, have something to admire:
We, who look up, can your addresses mark,
And see the creatures coupled in the ark:
So we expect the lovers, braves, and wits;
The gaudy house with scenes[334] will serve for cits.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 333: That is, the consumer of Burgundy, or drunken bully of
the day. ]
[Footnote 334: Dorset-Garden theatre, where the Duke's company acted
various shewy pieces, directed by D'Avenant. ]
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN AT
THE OPENING OF THE NEW HOUSE,
MARCH 26, 1674.
_The Drury-Lane theatre, after being burned in_ 1671-2, _was rebuilt
upon a plan furnished by Sir Christopher Wren_, _who superintended
the execution_. _It is said to have been most admirably planned,
but spoiled by some injudicious alterations in the course of
building. The following Prologue informs us, that the exterior
decorations were plain and simple in comparison to those of the
rival house in Dorset Gardens, which, as repeatedly noticed, had
been splendidly fitted up under the direction of D'Avenant, noted
for his attachment to stage pomp and shew. It appears that Charles
II. , who was possessed of considerable taste, and did not disdain
to interest himself in the affairs of the drama, had himself
recommended to the King's company, the simplicity and frugality of
scenery and ornament to which the poet alludes. The other house
were not unapt to boast of the superior splendour which is here
conceded to them. In the epilogue to_ "_Psyche_" _the actors boast_,
----Gallants, you can tell,
No foreign stage can ours in pomp excel;
And here none e'er shall treat you half so well.
Poor players have this day such splendour shown,
Which yet but by great monarchs has been done.
_D'Avenant, by whom the Duke's company were long directed, was the
first who introduced regular scenery upon a public stage. His drama
of the "Siege of Rhodes" seems to have been the first exhibited
with these decorations. _--See MALONE'S Account of the English
Stage. "
A plain-built house, after so long a stay,
Will send you half unsatisfied away;
When, fallen from your expected pomp, you find
A bare convenience only is designed.
You, who each day can theatres behold,
Like Nero's palace, shining all with gold,
Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear,
And, for the homely room, disdain the chear.
Yet now cheap druggets to a mode are grown, }
And a plain suit, since we can make but one, }
Is better than to be by tarnished gawdry known. }
They, who are by your favours wealthy made,
With mighty sums may carry on the trade;
We, broken bankers, half destroyed by fire, }
With our small stock to humble roofs retire;}
Pity our loss, while you their pomp admire. }
For fame and honour we no longer strive;
We yield in both, and only beg--to live;
Unable to support their vast expence,
Who build and treat with such magnificence,
That, like the ambitious monarchs of the age,
They give the law to our provincial stage.
Great neighbours enviously promote excess,
While they impose their splendour on the less;
But only fools, and they of vast estate, }
The extremity of modes will imitate, }
The dangling knee-fringe, and the bib-cravat,}
Yet if some pride with want may be allowed,
We in our plainness may be justly proud;
Our Royal Master willed it should be so;
Whate'er he's pleased to own, can need no show:
That sacred name gives ornament and grace,
And, like his stamp, makes basest metal pass.
'Twere folly now a stately pile to raise,
To build a playhouse while you throw down plays;
While scenes, machines, and empty operas reign,
And for the pencil you the pen disdain;
While troops of famished Frenchmen hither drive,
And laugh at those upon whose alms they live:
Old English authors vanish, and give place
To these new conquerors of the Norman race.
More tamely than your fathers you submit;
You're now grown vassals to them in your wit.
Mark, when they play, how our fine fops advance }
The mighty merits of their men of France, }
Keep time, cry, _Bon! _ and humour the cadence. }
Well, please yourselves; but sure 'tis understood,
That French machines have ne'er done England good. [335]
I would not prophecy our house's fate;
But while vain shows and scenes you over-rate,
'Tis to be feared----
That, as a fire the former house o'erthrew,
Machines and tempests[336] will destroy the new.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 335: St André, the famous ballet dancer, composed dances
for many operas about this time, which were probably performed by his
light-footed countrymen, at Dorset-Gardens. ]
[Footnote 336: "In 1673, the 'Tempest, or the Enchanted Island,'
made into an opera by Mr Shadwell, having all new in it, as scenes,
machines, &c. : one scene painted with myriads of ærial spirits; and
others flying away with a table furnished with fruits, sweetmeats, and
all sorts of viands, just when Duke Trinculo and his company were going
to dinner. All things were performed so admirably well, that not any
succeeding opera could get any money. "--_Roscius Anglicanus_, p. 34.
Shadwell had also, about this time, produced his opera of "Psyche,"
which, with the "Tempest" and other pieces depending chiefly upon shew
and scenery, were acting in Dorset-Garden, when this Prologue was
written. In order to ridicule these splendid exhibitions, the company
at Drury-Lane brought forward parodies on them, such as the "Mock
Tempest," "Psyche Debauched," &c. These pieces, though written in the
meanest style by one Duffet, a low buffoon, had a transient course of
success. ]
EPILOGUE
ON
THE SAME OCCASION.
Though what our Prologue said was sadly true,}
Yet, gentlemen, our homely house is new, }
A charm that seldom fails with wicked you. }
A country lip may have the velvet touch; }
Though she's no lady, you may think her such: }
A strong imagination may do much. }
But you, loud sirs, who through your curls look big,
Critics in plume and white vallancy wig,
Who, lolling, on our foremost benches sit,
And still charge first, the true forlorn of wit;
Whose favours, like the sun, warm where you roll,
Yet you, like him, have neither heat nor soul;
So may your hats your foretops never press,
Untouched your ribbons, sacred be your dress;
So may you slowly to old age advance,
And have the excuse of youth for ignorance;
So may fop-corner full of noise remain,
And drive far off the dull, attentive train;
So may your midnight scourings happy prove,
And morning batteries force your way to love;
So may not France your warlike hands recal,
But leave you by each others swords to fall,[337]
As you come here to ruffle vizard punk,
When sober rail, and roar when you are drunk.
But to the wits we can some merit plead,
And urge what by themselves has oft been said:
Our house relieves the ladies from the frights
Of ill-paved streets, and long dark winter nights;
The Flanders horses from a cold bleak road,
Where bears in furs dare scarcely look abroad;[338]
The audience from worn plays and fustian stuff,
Of rhime, more nauseous than three boys in buff. [339]
Though in their house the poets' heads[340] appear,
We hope we may presume their wits are here.
The best which they reserved they now will play, }
For, like kind cuckolds, though we've not the way }
To please, we'll find you abler men who may. }
If they should fail, for last recruits we breed }
A troop of frisking monsieurs to succeed: }
You know the French sure cards at time of need. }
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 337: This seems to be an allusion to the recent death of
Mr Scroop; a man of fortune, who, about this time, was stabbed in
the theatre at Dorset-Gardens by Sir Thomas Armstrong, afterwards
the confidential friend of the Duke of Monmouth. Langbaine says, he
witnessed this real tragedy, which happened during the representation
of "Macbeth," as altered and revised by D'Avenant in 1674. Mr Scroop
died immediately after his removal into a neighbouring house. ]
[Footnote 338: Alluding to the recent establishment in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, then separated from the city by a large vacant
space. ]
[Footnote 339: "The three boys in buff," were, I believe, the three
Bold Beauchamps in an old ranting play:
"The three bold Beauchamps shall revive again,
And, with the London Prentice, conquer Spain. "
]
[Footnote 340: Some part of the ornaments of D'Avenant's scenes
probably presented the portraits of dramatic writers. ]
PROLOGUE
TO
THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 1674.
SPOKEN BY MR HART.
_Hart, who had been a captain in the civil wars, belonged to
the King's company. He was an excellent actor, and particularly
celebrated in the character of Othello. He left the stage,
according to Cibber, on the union of the companies in_ 1686. _But it
appears from a paper published in a note on the article_ "_Betterton_"
_in the_ Biographia, _that he retired in_ 1681, _upon receiving a
pension from Dr D'Avenant_, _then manager of the Duke's company_,
_who in this manner bought off both Hart and Kynaston_, _and greatly
weakened the opposite set_.
Poets, your subjects, have their parts assigned,
To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind;
When tired with following nature, you think fit
To seek repose in the cool shades of wit,
And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey
What rests, and what is conquered, of the way.
Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife,
You view the various turns of human life;
Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go,
And, undebauched, the vice of cities know.
Your theories are here to practice brought,
As in mechanic operations wrought;
And man, the little world, before you set,
As once the sphere of crystal[341] shewed the great.
Blest sure are you above all mortal kind,
If to your fortunes you can suit your mind;
Content to see, and shun, those ills we show,
And crimes on theatres alone to know.
With joy we bring what our dead authors writ,
And beg from you the value of their wit:
That Shakespeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's claim,
May be renewed from those who gave them fame.
None of our living poets dare appear;
For muses so severe are worshipped here,
That, conscious of their faults, they shun the eye, }
And, as profane, from sacred places fly, }
Rather than see the offended God, and die. }
We bring no imperfections, but our own;
Such faults as made are by the makers shown;
And you have been so kind, that we may boast,
The greatest judges still can pardon most.
Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit,
Debased even to the level of their wit;
Disdaining that, which yet they know will take,
Hating themselves what their applause must make.
But when to praise from you they would aspire,
Though they, like eagles, mount, your Jove is higher.
So far your knowledge all their power transcends,
As what should be, beyond what is, extends.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 341: Its properties are thus described by Spenser:
It vertue had to show in perfect sight
Whatever thing was in the world contained,
Betwixt the lowest earth and heaven's height,
So that it to the looker appertained.
Whatever foe had wrought, or friend designed,
Therein discovered was ne ought mote pass,
Ne ought in secret from the same remained,
Forthy it round, and hollow-shaped was,
Like to the world itself, and seemed a world of glass.
Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made,
And gave unto King Ryence for his guard.
_Fairy Queen_, Book iii. Canto 2.
]
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN
AT OXFORD, BY MRS MARSHALL.
_The date of this Epilogue is fixed by that of Bathurst's
vice-chancellorship_, _which lasted from 3d October_, 1673, _to 9th
October_ 1675.
Oft has our poet wished, this happy seat
Might prove his fading muse's last retreat:
I wondered at his wish, but now I find
He sought for quiet, and content of mind;
Which noiseful towns, and courts, can never know,
And only in the shades, like laurels, grow.
Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest,
And age, returning thence, concludes it best.
What wonder if we court that happiness
Yearly to share, which hourly you possess,
Teaching e'en you, while the vext world we show,
Your peace to value more, and better know?
'Tis all we can return for favours past,
Whose holy memory shall ever last,
For patronage from him whose care presides
O'er every noble art, and every science guides;[342]
Bathurst, a name the learned with reverence know,
And scarcely more to his own Virgil owe;
Whose age enjoys but what his youth deserved,
To rule those muses whom before he served.
His learning, and untainted manners too,
We find, Athenians, are derived to you;
Such antient hospitality there rests }
In yours, as dwelt in the first Grecian breasts, }
Whose kindness was religion to their guests. }
Such modesty did to our sex appear, }
As, had there been no laws, we need not fear, }
Since each of you was our protector here. }
Converse so chaste, and so strict virtue shown,
As might Apollo with the muses own.
Till our return, we must despair to find
Judges so just, so knowing, and so kind.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 342: Ralph Bathurst, thus highly distinguished by our author,
was a distinguished character of the age. He was uncle to Allen, the
first Lord Bathurst. He was born in 1620, and bred to the church, but
abandoned divinity for the pursuit of medicine, which he practised
until the Restoration, when he resumed his clerical character. In 1663
he became head of Trinity college, Oxford, into the court and chapel
of which he introduced the beauties of classical architecture, to
rival, if it were possible, the magnificence of the Gothic edifices
by which it is surrounded. In 1673, he had the honour to be appointed
vice-chancellor; an office which he retained for two years. During
his execution of this duty he is said to have reformed many abuses
which had crept into the university; and by liberal benefactions
added considerably to the prosperity of literature. Anthony Wood, who
had some private reason for disliking him, and who, moreover, was as
determined an enemy to the fair sex as ever harboured in a cloister,
picked a quarrel with Bathurst's wife, as he could find no reasonable
fault with the vice-chancellor himself. "Dr Bathurst took his place
of vice-chancellor; a man of good parts, and able to do good things;
but he has a wife that scorns that he should be in print; a scornful
woman! scorns that he was dean of Wells: no need of marrying such a
woman, who is so conceited, that she thinks herself fit to govern a
college, or university. "--Perhaps the countenance given by Bathurst
to the theatre, for which Dryden here expresses his gratitude, might
not tend to conciliate the good will of Anthony, who quarrelled
with his sister-in-law by refusing to treat her to the play. But it
agreed well with the character of Bathurst, who was not only a patron
of literature in all its branches, but himself an excellent Latin
poet, as his verses prefixed to Hobbes' "Leviathan," fully testify;
and as good an English poet as most of his contemporaries. He died
in his eighty-fourth year, 1704. Warton has given us the following
character of his Latin compositions, for which Dryden has celebrated
him so highly: "His Latin orations are wonderful specimens of wit and
antithesis, which were the delight of his age. They want, upon the
whole, the purity and simplicity of Tully's eloquence, but even exceed
the sententious smartness of Seneca, and the surprising turns of Pliny.
They are perpetually spirited, and discover an uncommon quickness of
thought. The manner is concise and abrupt, but yet perspicuous and
easy: His allusions are delicate, and his observations sensible and
animated; his sentiments of congratulation, or indignation, are equally
forcible: his compliments are most elegantly turned, and his satire is
most ingeniously severe. These compositions are extremely agreeable to
read, but, in the present improvement of classical taste, not so proper
to be imitated. "--_Life of Bathurst, prefixed to his Literary Remains,
published under the inspection of Mr Warton. _]
ORIGINAL
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
BY
DR CHARLES D'AVENANT, 1675.
_Dr Charles D'Avenant, the author of "Circe," was son of the
Rare Sir William D'Avenant, whom he succeeded as manager of the
Duke's company. He practised physic in Doctor's Commons, which
he afterwards abandoned for politics. He became a member of
Parliament, and inspector of the exports and imports, of which
office he died possessed in_ 1714. _He wrote many tracts upon
political subjects, especially those connected with the revenue.
"Circe," his only drama, is an opera, to which Bannister composed
the music. Besides the Prologue by our author, it was honoured by
an Epilogue by the famous Rochester, and thus graced was received
favourably. It contains some good writing, considering it was
composed at the age of nineteen; a circumstance alluded to in the
following Prologue. The original Prologue is from the 4to edition
of "_Circe_," _London_, 1677. _It was afterwards much improved, or
rather entirely re-written, by our author. _
Were you but half so wise as you're severe,
Our youthful poet should not need to fear;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
The sex, that best does pleasure understand,
Will always chuse to err on t'other hand.
They check not him that's aukward in delight,
But clap the young rogue's cheek, and set him right.
Thus heartened well, and fleshed upon his prey,
The youth may prove a man another day.
For your own sakes, instruct him when he's out,
You'll find him mend his work at every bout.
When some young lusty thief is passing by, }
How many of your tender kind will cry,-- }
"A proper fellow! pity he should die! }
He might be saved, and thank us for our pains,
There's such a stock of love within his veins. "
These arguments the women may persuade,
But move not you, the brothers of the trade,
Who, scattering your infection through the pit, }
With aching hearts and empty purses sit, }
To take your dear five shillings worth of wit. }
The praise you give him, in your kindest mood,
Comes dribbling from you, just like drops of blood;
And then you clap so civilly, for fear
The loudness might offend your neighbour's ear,
That we suspect your gloves are lined within,
For silence sake, and cotton'd next the skin.
From these usurpers we appeal to you,
The only knowing, only judging few;
You, who in private have this play allowed,
Ought to maintain your suffrage to the crowd.
The captive, once submitted to your bands,
You should protect from death by vulgar hands.
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
AS CORRECTED BY DRYDEN.
Were you but half so wise as you're severe,
Our youthful poet should not need to fear;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
The name of great your martial mind will suit;
But justice is your darling attribute:
Of all the Greeks, 'twas but one hero's due,[329]
And, in him, Plutarch prophesied of you.
A prince's favours but on few can fall,
But justice is a virtue shared by all.
Some kings the name of conquerors have assumed,
Some to be great, some to be gods presumed;
But boundless power, and arbitrary lust,
Made tyrants still abhor the name of just;
They shunned the praise this godlike virtue gives,
And feared a title that reproached their lives.
The power, from which all kings derive their state,
Whom they pretend, at least, to imitate,
Is equal both to punish and reward;
For few would love their God, unless they feared.
Resistless force and immortality
Make but a lame, imperfect deity;
Tempests have force unbounded to destroy,
And deathless being even the damned enjoy;
And yet heaven's attributes, both last and first,
One without life, and one with life accurst;
But justice is heaven's self, so strictly he,
That could it fail, the godhead could not be.
This virtue is your own; but life and state
Are, one to fortune subject, one to fate:
Equal to all, you justly frown or smile; }
Nor hopes nor fears your steady hand beguile; }
Yourself our balance hold, the world's our isle. }
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 289: The 10th of June. ]
[Footnote 290: Whitsunday. ]
[Footnote 291: Trinity Sunday, the octave of Whitsunday. ]
[Footnote 292: Note I. ]
[Footnote 293: Alluding only to the commonwealth party here, and in
other parts of the poem. DRYDEN. --See Note II. ]
[Footnote 294: Rev. xii. v. 4. ]
[Footnote 295: The Cross. ]
[Footnote 296: The Crescent, which the Turks bear for their arms.
DRYDEN. Note III. ]
[Footnote 297: The Pope, in the time of Constantine the Great; alluding
to the present Pope. DRYDEN. --See Note IV. ]
[Footnote 298: King James II. ]
[Footnote 299: Bill of Exclusion. ]
[Footnote 300: The Lemmon Ore, on which the vessel of King James was
lost in his return from Scotland. The crew perished, and he himself
escaped with difficulty. See Vol. IX. p. 401. ]
[Footnote 301: Venerable is here used in its original sense, as
deserving of veneration. But the epithet has been so commonly connected
with old age, that a modern poet would hardly venture to apply it to an
infant. ]
[Footnote 302: Note V. ]
[Footnote 303: Alluding to the temptation in the wilderness. ]
[Footnote 304:
_Restitit Æneas, clarâque in luce refulsit,
Os, humerosque deo similis; namque ipsa decoram
Cæsariem nato genetrix, lumenque juventæ
Purpureum, et lætos oculis afflarat honores. _
Æneid, Lib. I.
]
[Footnote 305: Edward the Black Prince, born on Trinity Sunday. ]
[Footnote 306: The motto of the poem explained. ]
[Footnote 307: St George. ]
[Footnote 308: The great Civil War. ]
[Footnote 309: The Fire of London. ]
[Footnote 310: The Popish plot. ]
[Footnote 311: The Test-act. ]
[Footnote 312: The death of the Jesuits, executed for the Plot. ]
[Footnote 313: All the queen's former children died in infancy. ]
[Footnote 314: The year 1688, big with so many events of importance,
commenced very unfavourably with stormy weather, and an epidemical
distemper among men and cattle. ]
[Footnote 315: 1 Kings, chap, xxxiv. ]
[Footnote 316: Note VI. ]
[Footnote 317: Original sin, supposed to be washed off by baptism. ]
[Footnote 318: See "The Hind and the Panther," p. 224. ]
[Footnote 319: The prince christened, but not named. ]
[Footnote 320: Jehovah, or the name of God, unlawful to be pronounced
by the Jews. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 321: Some authors say, that the true name of Rome was kept a
secret, _ne hostes incantamentis deos elicerent_. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 322: Candia, where Jupiter was born and lived secretly.
DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 323: Pallas, or Minerva, said by the poets to have been bred
up by hand. DRYDEN. ]
[Footnote 324: The prince had no wet nurse. ]
[Footnote 325: The sudden false report of the prince's death. See Note
VII. ]
[Footnote 326: 2 Kings, chap. iv. ]
[Footnote 327: 1 Samuel, chap. iv. v. 10. ]
[Footnote 328: Exodus, chap. xvii. v. 8. ]
[Footnote 329: Aristides. See his Life in Plutarch. ]
NOTES
ON
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
Note I.
_Hail, son of prayers! by holy violence
Drawn down from heaven! _----P. 290.
We have noticed, in the introduction, that the birth of a Prince of
Wales, at a time of such critical importance to the Catholic faith,
was looked upon, by the Papists, as little less than miraculous. Some
talked of the petition of the Duchess of Modena to Our Lady of Loretto;
and Burnet affirms, that, in that famous chapel, there is actually a
register of the queen's conception, in consequence of her mother's
vow. But, in that case, the good duchess's intercession must have been
posthumous; for she died upon the 19th July, and the queen's time
run from the 6th of October. Others ascribed the event to the king's
pilgrimage to St Winifred's Well; and others, among whom was the Earl
of Melfort, suffered their zeal to hurry them into profaneness, and
spoke of the angel of the Lord moving the Bath waters, like the Pool of
Bethsaida. But the Jesuits claimed to their own prayers the principal
merit of procuring this blessing, which, indeed, they had ventured to
prophecy; for, among other devices which that order exhibited to the
English ambassador from James to the Pope, there was, according to Mr
Misson, one of a lily, from whose leaves distilled some drops of water,
which were once supposed, by naturalists, to become the seed of new
lilies: the motto was--_Lachrimor in prolem_--"I weep for children. "
Beneath which was the following distich:
_Pro natis, Jacobe, gemis, flos candide regum!
Hos natura tibi si neget, astra dabunt. _
For sons, fair flower of kings, why melts thine eye?
The heavens shall grant what nature may deny.
Note II.
_For, see the dragon winged on his way,
To watch the travail, and devour the prey. _--P. 291.
"And the dragon stood before the woman, who was ready to be delivered,
for to devour her child, as soon as it was born,"--Revel. xii. 4.
Dryden is at pains, by an original marginal note, which, with others,
is restored in this edition, to explain, that, by this allusion here,
and in other parts of the poem, he meant "the commonwealth's party. "
The acquittal of the bishops, on the 17th of June, two days before the
poem was licensed, must have excited a prudential reverence for the
church of England in the moment of her triumph. The poet fixes upon
this commonwealth party therefore, exclusively, the common reports
which had been circulated during the queen's pregnancy, and which are
thus noticed in the (supposititious) letter to Father La Chaise: "As
to the queen's being with child, that great concern goes as well as
we could wish, notwithstanding all the satirical discourses of the
heretics, who content themselves to vent their poison in libels, which,
by night, they disperse in the street, or fix upon the walls. There was
one lately found upon a pillar of a church, that imported, that such a
day thanks should be given to God for the queen's being great with a
cushion. If one of these pasquil-makers could be discovered, he would
but have an ill time on't, and should be made to take his last farewell
at Tyburn. "
The usual topics of wit, during the queen's pregnancy, were, allusions
to a cushion, a tympany, &c. &c. ; and Partridge, the Protestant
almanack-maker, utters the following predictions:--"That there was some
bawdy project on foot, either about buying, selling, or procuring, a
child or children, for some pious uses. " And, again, "Some child is to
be topped upon the lawful heirs, to cheat them out of their right and
estate. "--"God preserve the kingdom of England from invasion! for about
this time I fear it in earnest, and keep the Protestants there from
being dragooned. "
One single circumstance is sufficient to rout all suspicions thus
carefully infused into the people. It is well known, and is noticed
in one of L'Estrange's papers at the time, that a similar outcry was
raised during a former pregnancy of the queen; but the child proving a
female, there was no use for pushing the calumny any further upon that
occasion.
Note III.
_Already has he lifted high the sign,
Which crowned the conquering arms of Constantine;
The moon grows pale at that presaging sight,
And half her train of stars have lost their light. _--P. 292.
The public exercise of the Catholic religion in England is compared
to the miraculous display of the cross, with the motto, _In hoc signo
vinces_; which is said to have appeared to Constantine on the eve of
his great victory.
The war against the Turks, which was now raging in Hungary, seems
to have occupied much of James's attention. He amused himself with
anxiety about the fate of this holy warfare, as he probably thought
it, while his own crown was tottering on his head. In all his letters
to the Prince of Orange, he expresses his wishes for the peace of
Christendom, that the emperor and the Venetians might have leisure to
prosecute the war against the Turks; and conjectures about the taking
of Belgrade, and the progress of the Duke of Lorraine, are very gravely
sent, as interesting matter to the prince, who was anticipating the
conquest of England, and the dethronement of his father-in-law. There
may be something of affectation in this; but, as Dryden takes up
the same tone, it may be supposed to have forwarded James's general
conversation, as well as his letters to the Prince of Orange. --_See_
DALRYMPLE'S _Memoirs_. _Appendix to Book V. _
Note IV.
_Behold another Sylvester, to bless
The sacred standard, and secure success;
Large of his treasures, of a soul so great,
As fills and crowds his universal seat. _--P. 292.
Dryden talks of the Pope with the respect of a good Catholic.
Nevertheless it happened, by a very odd chance, that, while the throne
of England was held by a Catholic, for the first time during the course
of a century, the chair of St Peter was occupied by Innocent XI. who
acquired the uncommon epithet of the Protestant Pope. He received, with
great coldness, the Earl of Castlemain, whom James sent to Rome as his
ambassador, and refused the only two requests which a king of England
had made to Rome since the days of Henry VIII. , although they were only
a dispensation to Petre the king's confessor, to hold a bishopric,
and another to the Mareschal D'Humier's daughter to marry within the
prohibited degrees. Nay, the Pope is said to have privately admitted
the Prince of Orange's envoy to his confidence, while he treated
Castlemaine with so much contempt. The cause of this coldness was the
Pope's quarrel with James's ally, Louis, and his dislike to the order
of Jesuits, by whom the king of England was entirely ruled. In truth,
Innocent XI. was much more anxious to maintain the privileges of the
Roman see against those princes who retained her communion, than to add
England to a flock which was become so mutinous and untractable. He
was, besides, a man of no extended views, and chiefly concerned himself
with managing the papal revenue, involved in debt by a succession of
wasteful pontificates. To this the conversion of England promised no
immediate addition, and, with the narrowness of view natural to his
pursuits, Innocent XI. thought it better to employ his exertions in
realizing an immediate income, than in endeavouring to extend the faith
and authority of the church, by embarking in a design of great doubt
and hazard. He was, therefore, but a very poor representative of Pope
Sylvester. As for the last two lines, they contain, what we seldom
meet with in Dryden's poetry, a compliment not only bombastic, but
unappropriate, and even unmeaning.
Note V.
_Born in broad day-light, that the ungrateful rout
May find no room for a remaining doubt. _--P. 293.
In these lines, and the following, where the poet, with indecent
freedom, compares the suspicions entertained of a spurious birth to
the devil's doubts concerning our Saviour's godhead, he alludes to
those circumstances of publicity, which one would have supposed might
have rendered the birth of the prince indisputable. It took place at
ten o'clock in the morning; and eighteen privy counsellors, besides a
number of ladies, were present at the delivery. But the party violence
of the period was so extravagant, as to receive and circulate a variety
of reports, inconsistent with each other, and agreeing only in the
general conclusion, that the child was an imposition upon the nation.
The reasoning of the Bishop of Salisbury, on this point, is admirably
summed up by Smollet.
"On the 10th of June, 1688, the queen was suddenly seized with
labour-pains, and delivered of a son, who was baptized by the name of
James, and declared Prince of Wales. All the Catholics and friends of
James were transported with the most extravagant joy at the birth of
this child; while great part of the nation consoled themselves with
the notion, that it was altogether supposititious. They carefully
collected a variety of circumstances, upon which this conjecture
was founded; and though they were inconsistent, contradictory, and
inconclusive, the inference was so agreeable to the views and passions
of the people, that it made an impression which, in all probability,
will never be totally effaced. Dr Burnet, who seems to have been at
uncommon pains to establish this belief, and to have consulted all the
Whig nurses in England upon the subject, first pretends to demonstrate,
that the queen was not with child; secondly, that she was with child,
but miscarried; thirdly, that a child was brought into the queen's
apartment in a warming-pan; fourthly, that there was no child at all
in the room; fifthly, that the queen actually bore a child, but it
died that same day; sixthly, that it had the fits, of which it died at
Richmond; therefore, the Chevalier de St George must be the fruit of
four different impostures. "
Note VI.
_Five months to discord and debate were given. _--P. 295.
During the five months preceding the birth of the Chevalier de St
George, James was wholly engaged by those feuds and dissensions which
tended to render irreparable the breach between him and his subjects.
The arbitrary attacks upon the privileges of Magdalen College, and
of the Charter-House, fell nearly within this period. Above all, the
petition of the seven bishops against reading the Declaration of
Indulgence, their imprisonment, their memorable trial and acquittal,
had all taken place since the month of April; and it is well known
to what a state of violent opposition the nation had been urged by a
train of arbitrary acts of violence, so imprudently commenced, and
perversely insisted in. Dryden, like other men of sense, probably began
to foresee the consequences of so violent and general irritation; and
expresses himself in moderate and soothing language, both as to the
past and future. Nothing is therefore dropt which can offend the church
of England. Perhaps they may have been spared by the royal command;
for it seems, as is hinted by a letter from Halifax to the Prince of
Orange, that, not finding his expectations answered by the dissenters,
whom he had so greatly favoured of late, James entertained thoughts of
returning to his old friends, the High-churchmen; "but the truth is,"
his lordship adds, "the Papists have of late been so hard and fierce
upon them, that the very species of those formerly mistaking men is
destroyed; they have so broken that loom in pieces, that they cannot
now set it up again to work upon it. "--DALRYMPLE'S _Memoirs_. Appendix
to Book V.
Note VII.
----_When the sudden blast,
The face of heaven, and our young sun, o'ercast,
Fame, the swift ill increasing as she rolled,
Disease, despair, and death, at three reprises told. _--P. 297.
There was, Dryden informs us, a report of the prince's death, to which
he alludes. James, in a letter to the Prince of Orange, dated June 12,
mentions the birth of his son on the Sunday preceding, and adds, "the
child was somewhat ill this last night, of the wind, and some gripes,
but is now, blessed be God, very well, and like to have no returns
of it, and is a strong boy. " About this illness, Burnet tells the
following gossipping story: "That night, one Hemings, a very worthy
man, an apothecary by his trade, who lived in St Martin's Lane, the
very next door to a family of an eminent Papist, (Brown, brother to
the Viscount Montacute, lived there;) the wall between his parlour and
their's being so thin, that he could easily hear any thing that was
said with a louder voice, he (Hemings) was reading in his parlour late
at night, when he heard one come into the neighbouring parlour, and
say, with a doleful voice, the Prince of Wales is dead: Upon which a
great many that lived in the house came down stairs very quick. Upon
this confusion he could not hear any thing more; but it was plain they
were in a great consternation. He went with the news next morning to
the bishops in the Tower. The Countess of Clarendon came thither soon
after, and told them, she had been at the young prince's door, but
was denied access: she was amazed at it; and asked, if they knew her:
they said, they did; but that the queen had ordered, that no person
whatsoever should be suffered to come in to him. This gave credit to
Hemings' story; and looked as if all was ordered to be kept shut up
close, till another child was found. One, that saw the child two days
after, said to me, that he looked strong, and not like a child so newly
born. "
The poem of Dryden plainly proves, that such a report was so far
from being confined among the Catholics, that it was spread over
all the town; and what the worthy Mr Hemings over-heard in his next
neighbour's, the Papist's, might probably have been heard in any
company in London that evening, although the mode of communication
would doubtless have been doleful or joyous, according to the party and
religion of the news-bearer.
PROLOGUES
AND
EPILOGUES.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
The prologue of the English drama was originally, like that of the
ancients, merely a kind of argument of the play, instructing the
audience concerning those particulars of the plot, which were necessary
in order to understand the opening of the piece. That this might be
done more artificially, it was often spoken in the character of some
person connected with the preceding history of the intrigue, though
not properly one of the _dramatis personæ_. But when increasing
refinement introduced the present mode of opening the action in the
course of the play itself, the prologue became a preliminary address
to the audience, bespeaking their attention and favour for the piece.
The epilogue had always borne this last character, being merely an
extension of the ancient "_valete et plaudite_;" an opportunity seized
by the performers, after resigning their mimic characters, to pay their
respects to the public in their own, and to solicit its approbation
of their exertions. By degrees it assumed a more important shape, and
was indulged in descanting upon such popular topics as were likely to
interest the audience, even though less immediately connected with the
actor's address of thanks, or the piece they had been performing. Both
the prologue and epilogue had assumed their present character so early
as the days of Shakespeare and Jonson.
With the revival of dramatic entertainments, after the Restoration,
these addresses were revived also; and a degree of consequence seems
to have been attached to them in that witty age, which they did not
possess before, and which has not since been given to them. They were
not only used to propitiate the audience; to apologize for the players,
or poet; or to satirize the follies of the day, which is now their
chief purpose; but they became, during the collision of contending
factions, vehicles of political tenets and political sarcasm, which
could, at no time, be insinuated with more success, than when clothed
in nervous verse, and delivered with all the advantages of elocution
to an audience, whose numbers rendered the impression of poetry and
eloquence more contagious.
It is not surprising that Dryden soon obtained a complete and absolute
superiority in this style of composition over all who pretended to
compete with him. While the harmony of his verse gave that advantage
to the speaker, which was wanting in the harsh, coarse, broken measure
of his contemporaries, his powers of reasoning and of satire left them
as far behind in sense as in sound. This superiority, and the great
influence which he had in the management of the theatre, made it usual
to invoke his assistance in the case of new plays; many of which he
accordingly furnished either with prologues or epilogues. The players
also had recourse to him upon any remarkable occasion; as, when a new
house was opened; when the theatre was honoured by a visit from the
king or duke; when they played at Oxford, during the public acts;
or, in short, in all cases when an occasional prologue was thought
necessary to grace their performance.
The collection of these pieces, which follows, is far from being the
least valuable part of our author's labours. The variety and richness
of fancy which they indicate, is one of Dryden's most remarkable
poetical attributes. Whether the theme be, the youth and inexperience
or the age and past services, of the author; the plainness or
magnificence of a new theatre; the superiority of ancient authors, or
the exaltation of the moderns; the censure of political faction, or
of fashionable follies; the praise of the monarch, or the ridicule
of the administration; the poet never fails to treat it with the
liveliness appropriate to verses intended to be spoken, and spoken
before a numerous assembly. The manner which Dryden assumes, varies
also with the nature of his audience. The prologues and epilogues,
intended for the London stage, are written in a tone of superiority,
as if the poet, conscious of the justice of his own laws of criticism,
rather imposed them upon the public as absolute and undeniable,
than as standing in need of their ratification. And if he sometimes
condescends to solicit, in a more humble style, the approbation of the
audience, and to state circumstances of apology, and pleas of favour,
it is only in the case of other poets; for, in the prologues of his
own plays, he always rather demands than begs their applause; and if
he acknowledges any defects in the piece, he takes care to intimate,
that they are introduced in compliance with the evil taste of the age;
and that the audience must take the blame to themselves, instead of
throwing it upon the writer. This bold, style of address, although it
occasionally drew upon our author the charge of presumption, was,
nevertheless, so well supported by his perception of what was just
in criticism, and his powers of defending even what was actually
wrong, that a miscellaneous audience was, in general, fain to submit
to a domination, as successfully supported as boldly claimed.
In the
Oxford prologues, on the other hand, the audience furnished by that
seat of the Muses, as of more competent judgment, are addressed with
more respectful deference by the poet. [330] He seems, in these, to lay
down his rules of criticism, as it were under correction of superior
judges; and intermingles them with such compliments to the taste and
learning of the members of the university, as he disdains to bestow
upon the motley audience of the metropolis. In one style, the author
seems dictating to scholars, whose conceit and presumption must be
lowered by censure, to make them sensible of their own deficiencies,
and induce them to receive the offered instruction; in the other, he
seems to deliver his opinions before men, whom he acknowledges as his
equals, if not his superiors, in the arts of which he is treating. And
although Brown has very grossly charged Dryden with having affected,
for the university, an esteem and respect, which he was far from really
feeling; and with having exposed its members, in their turn, to the
ridicule of the London audience, whom he had stigmatized in his Oxford
prologues as void of taste and judgment; it is but fair to state, that
nothing can be produced in proof of such an accusation. [331] In another
respect, the reader may remark a pleasing difference between the London
prologues and epilogues, and those spoken at Oxford. The licence
of the times permitted, and even exacted from an author, in these
compositions, the indulgence of an indelicate vein of humour; which,
however humiliating, is, in general, successful in a vulgar or mixed
audience, as turning upon subjects adapted to the meanest capacity.
This continued even down to our times; for, till very lately, it was
expected by the mobbish part of the audience, that they should be
indemnified for the patience with which they had listened to the moral
lessons of a tragedy, by the indecency of the epilogue. In Dryden's
time, this coarse raillery was carried to great excess; but our author,
however culpable in other compositions, is, generally speaking, more
correct than his contemporaries in his prologues and epilogues. In the
Oxford pieces, particularly, where the decorum of manners, suited to
that mother of learning, required him to abstain from all licentious
allusion, Dryden has given some excellent specimens of how little he
needed to rely upon this obvious and vulgar aid, for the amusement of
his audience. Upon the whole, it will be difficult to find pieces of
this occasional nature so interesting and unexceptionable as those
spoken at Oxford. They are, as they ought to be, by far the most
laboured and correct which our author gave to the stage. It may not be
improper to add, that the players were only permitted to visit Oxford
during the Public Acts, which were frequently celebrated on occasions
of public rejoicing. They acted, it would appear, in a Tennis-court,
fitted up as an occasional theatre; and the prologues and epilogues
of Dryden tended doubtless greatly to conciliate the favour of an
audience, consisting of all that was learned in the generation then
mature, and all that was hopeful in that which was rising to succeed it.
The more miscellaneous prologues and epilogues of Dryden are not
without interest. In ridiculing the vices or follies of the age, they
often touch upon circumstances illustrative of manners; and certainly,
though the modern theatres of the metropolis are so ill regulated,
as nearly to exclude modest females from all the house, except the
private boxes, their decorum is superior to that of their predecessors.
If we conceive the boxes filled with women, whose masks levelled
all distinction between the woman of fashion and the courtezan; the
galleries crowded with a rabble, more ferocious and ignorant than
its present inmates; the pit occupied by drunken bullies, whose
quarrels perpetually interrupted the performers, and often ended in
bloodshed, and even murder, upon the spot; we shall have occasion to
congratulate ourselves upon being at least in the way of reformation.
These enormities of his time, Dryden has pointed out, and censured in
his strong and nervous satire. It is to be regretted, that his painting
is often coarse, and sometimes intentionally licentious; although,
as has been already observed, more seldom so than that of most of
his contemporaries. The historical antiquary may also glean some
observations on the state of parties, from those pieces which turn upon
the politics of the day; and there occur numerous hints, which may be
useful to an historian of the drama. Thus the Prologues and Epilogues
form no improper supplement to Dryden's historical poetry.
It remains to say, that all these prologues and epilogues were,
according to the custom of that time, printed on single leaves, or
broadsides, as they are called, and sold by the hawkers at the door
of the theatres. Some of these, but very few, have been preserved by
Mr Luttrell, in the collection belonging to Mr Bindley. If a set of
them existed, I think it probable they would be found to contain many
variations from those editions, which the more mature reflection of
the author gave to the world in the Miscellanies. But the loss is the
less to be lamented, as, in general, the original editions which I have
seen are not only more inaccurate, but coarser and more licentious,
than those which Dryden finally adopted. In the original prologue
of Circe, which is printed in this edition, for example, the reader
will find, that, in place of the well-known apology for an author's
first production, by an appeal to those of Shakespeare, Fletcher,
and Jonson, his youth is only made the subject of some commonplace
raillery. Indeed, so little value did Dryden himself set upon these
occasional effusions before they were collected, and so little did he
consider them as entitled to live in the recollection of the public,
that, on one occasion at least, but probably upon several, he actually
transferred the same prologue from one new play to another. Thus he
reclaimed, from his adversary Shadwell's play of "The True Widow,"
the prologue which he had furnished, and affixed it to the "Widow
Ranter" of Mrs Behn. Sometimes also he laid under contribution former
publications of his own, which he supposed to be forgotten, in order to
furnish out one of these theatrical prefaces. Thus the satire against
the Dutch furnishes the principal part of the prologue and epilogue to
"Amboyna. "
Inaccurate as they seem to have been, the original editions might have
proved useful in arranging the prologues and epilogues according
to their exact dates, which, where they are not attached to any
particular play, can now only be assigned from internal evidence. But
absolute accuracy in this point, though no doubt desirable if it can
be obtained, does not appear to be a point of any serious moment; and,
after having bestowed considerable pains, the Editor will neither
be much ashamed, nor inconsolably sorry, to find, that some of the
prologues and epilogues have been misplaced in the order which he has
adopted.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 330: Our author's several modes of coaxing or bullying the
audience in the prologues, are ridiculed in the "Rehearsal;" where
Bayes says, "You must know there is in nature but two ways of making
very good prologues;--the one is, by civility, by insinuation, good
language, and all that to ---- a ---- in a manner steal your plaudit
from the courtesy of the auditors: the other, by making use of some
certain personal things, which may keep a hank upon such censuring
persons as cannot otherwise, egad, in nature, be hindered from being
too free with their tongues. "]
[Footnote 331: The following is the statement of the accusation in
Tom's peculiar style, being a sort of cant jargon, not void of low
humour:
"_Bayes. _ Now, there being but three remarkable places in the whole
island; that is, the two universities, and the great metropolitan city;
I shall, consequently, confine my discourse only to them: But, first
of all, I must tell you, that I am altogether of my Lord Plausible's
opinion in the "Plain Dealer;" if I chance to commend any place, or
order of men, out of pure friendship, I choose to do it before their
faces; and if I have occasion to speak ill of any person or place,
out of a principle of respect and good manners, I do it behind their
backs. You cannot imagine, Mr Crites, when I visit either of the
two universities, in my own person, or by my commissioners of the
playhouse, how much I am taken with a college life: Oh, there's nothing
like a cheese cut out into farthings! and my Lord Mayor, amidst all
his brutal city luxury, does not dine half so well as a student upon
a single chop of rotten roasted mutton; nay, I can scarce prevail
with myself, for a month or two after, to eat my meat on a plate,
so great a respect have I for a university trencher; and then their
conversation is so learned, and withal so innocent, that I could sit a
whole day together at a coffee-house to hear them dispute about _actus
perspicui_, and _forma misti_. From this beginning I naturally fall a
railing at London, with as much zeal as a Buckingham-shire grazier, who
had his pocket picked at a Smithfield entertainment; or a country lady,
whose obsequious knight has spent his estate among misses, vintners,
and linen-drapers; and then I tell my audience, that a man may walk
farther in the city to meet a true judge of poetry, than ride his horse
on Salisbury Plain to find a house.
London likes grossly, but this nicer pit
Examines, fathoms, all the depths of wit.
You see here, Mr Crites, that scholars won't take Alderman Duncomb's
leaden halfpence for Irish half crowns, while dull Londoner swallows
every thing; and takes it with as little consideration, as a true
Romanist takes a spiritual dose of relicts, that are sealed up with the
council of Trent's coat-of-arms.
_Eugen. _ How was that, Mr Bayes, about the council of Trent? Pray, let
us hear it again.
_Bayes. _ Gad forgive me for't! --it dropt from me ere I was aware; but I
shall in time wear off this hitching in my gait, and walk in Catholic
trammels as well as the best of them; nature, I must confess, is not
overcome on the sudden--But let me see, gentlemen, whether I have any
more lines to our last purpose; oh, here they are!
Poetry, which is in Oxford made
An art, in London only is a trade.
Our poet, could he find forgiveness here,
Would wish it rather than a plaudit there.
You are sensible, without question, how little beholden the city is to
me, when I am upon my progress elsewhere. But 'tis a comfort that this
peremptory humour does not continue long upon me; for, as I have the
grace to disown my mother-university, with a jug in one hand, and a
link in the other, when I am at Oxford,--
Thebes did his green unknowing years engage;
He chuses Athens in his riper age.
So, when I am got amongst my honest acquaintance here in Covent-Garden,
I disown both the sisters, and make myself as merry as a grig, with
their greasy trenchers, rusty salt-sellers, and no napkins, with their
everlasting drinking, and no intervals of fornication to relieve it.
In fine, I make a great scruple of it, whether it be possible for a
man to write sound heroics, and make an accomplished thorough-paced
wit, unless he comes to refine and cultivate himself at London;
unless be knows how many stories high the houses are in Cheapside
and Fleet-street; is acquainted with all the gaming ordinaries about
town, and the rates of porters and hackney-coachmen; has shot the
bridge; seen the tombs at Westminster; heard the Wooden-head speak; can
tell you where the insuring-office is kept; and which of the twelve
companies has the honour of precedence. "
_The Reasons for Mr Bayes changing his Religion_, p. 10.
]
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN
THE FIRST DAY OF THE KING'S HOUSE ACTING AFTER THE FIRE.
_In January_, 1671-2, _the play-house in Drury-Lane_, _occupied by
the King's company_, _took fire_, _and was entirely destroyed_, _with
fifty or sixty adjoining houses_, _which were either involved in
the conflagration_, _or blown up to stop its progress_. _During the
rebuilding of this theatre, the King's servants acted in the old
house in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. The following Prologue announces
the distressed situation of the company on their retreat to this
temporary asylum. The sixth couplet alludes to the recent desertion
of the Lincoln's-Inn theatre, by the rival company, called the
Duke's, who were now acting at one in Dorset Gardens, splendidly
fitted up under the direction of Sir William D'Avenant. _
So shipwrecked passengers escaped to land,
So look they, when on the bare beach they stand,
Dropping and cold, and their first fear scarce o'er,
Expecting famine on a desart shore.
From that hard climate we must wait for bread,
Whence even the natives, forced by hunger, fled.
Our stage does human chance present to view,
But ne'er before was seen so sadly true:
You are changed too, and your pretence to see
Is but a nobler name for charity.
Your own provisions furnish out our feasts,
While you, the founders, make yourselves the guests.
Of all mankind beside, fate had some care, }
But for poor Wit no portion did prepare, }
'Tis left a rent-charge to the brave and fair. }
You cherished it, and now its fall you mourn,
Which blind unmannered zealots make their scorn,
Who think that fire a judgment on the stage,
Which spared not temples[332] in its furious rage.
But as our new-built city rises higher, }
So from old theatres may new aspire, }
Since fate contrives magnificence by fire. }
Our great metropolis does far surpass
Whate'er is now, and equals all that was:
Our wit as far does foreign wit excel,
And, like a king, should in a palace dwell.
But we with golden hopes are vainly fed,
Talk high, and entertain you in a shed:
Your presence here, for which we humbly sue,
Will grace old theatres, and build up new.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 332: St Paul's, and other churches, were consumed in the
great fire, then a recent event. ]
PROLOGUE
FOR
THE WOMEN, WHEN THEY ACTED AT THE OLD THEATRE, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS.
_Female performers were first introduced after the Restoration.
They became speedily acceptable to the court and the public.
The dramatic poets were in so many ways indebted to them, that
occasional exertions, dedicated to their benefit, as I presume the
following to have been, were but a suitable return for various
favours received. Our author's intimacy with the beautiful
Mrs Reeves particularly called forth his talents in behalf of
these damsels, distressed as they must have been by the unlucky
burning of the theatre in Drury-Lane. The Prologue occurs in the
Miscellanies; but is, I know not why, omitted by Derrick in his
edition of Dryden's poems. _
Were none of you, gallants, e'er driven so hard,
As when the poor kind soul was under guard,
And could not do't at home, in some by-street
To take a lodging, and in private meet?
Such is our case; we can't appoint our house,
The lovers' old and wonted rendezvous,
But hither to this trusty nook remove;
The worse the lodging is, the more the love.
For much good pastime, many a dear sweet hug,
Is stolen in garrets, on the humble rug.
Here's good accommodation in the pit;
The grave demurely in the midst may sit,
And so the hot Burgundian[333] on the side,
Ply vizard mask, and o'er the benches stride:
Here are convenient upper boxes too, }
For those that make the most triumphant show;}
All that keep coaches, must not sit below. }
There, gallants, you betwixt the acts retire,
And, at dull plays, have something to admire:
We, who look up, can your addresses mark,
And see the creatures coupled in the ark:
So we expect the lovers, braves, and wits;
The gaudy house with scenes[334] will serve for cits.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 333: That is, the consumer of Burgundy, or drunken bully of
the day. ]
[Footnote 334: Dorset-Garden theatre, where the Duke's company acted
various shewy pieces, directed by D'Avenant. ]
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN AT
THE OPENING OF THE NEW HOUSE,
MARCH 26, 1674.
_The Drury-Lane theatre, after being burned in_ 1671-2, _was rebuilt
upon a plan furnished by Sir Christopher Wren_, _who superintended
the execution_. _It is said to have been most admirably planned,
but spoiled by some injudicious alterations in the course of
building. The following Prologue informs us, that the exterior
decorations were plain and simple in comparison to those of the
rival house in Dorset Gardens, which, as repeatedly noticed, had
been splendidly fitted up under the direction of D'Avenant, noted
for his attachment to stage pomp and shew. It appears that Charles
II. , who was possessed of considerable taste, and did not disdain
to interest himself in the affairs of the drama, had himself
recommended to the King's company, the simplicity and frugality of
scenery and ornament to which the poet alludes. The other house
were not unapt to boast of the superior splendour which is here
conceded to them. In the epilogue to_ "_Psyche_" _the actors boast_,
----Gallants, you can tell,
No foreign stage can ours in pomp excel;
And here none e'er shall treat you half so well.
Poor players have this day such splendour shown,
Which yet but by great monarchs has been done.
_D'Avenant, by whom the Duke's company were long directed, was the
first who introduced regular scenery upon a public stage. His drama
of the "Siege of Rhodes" seems to have been the first exhibited
with these decorations. _--See MALONE'S Account of the English
Stage. "
A plain-built house, after so long a stay,
Will send you half unsatisfied away;
When, fallen from your expected pomp, you find
A bare convenience only is designed.
You, who each day can theatres behold,
Like Nero's palace, shining all with gold,
Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear,
And, for the homely room, disdain the chear.
Yet now cheap druggets to a mode are grown, }
And a plain suit, since we can make but one, }
Is better than to be by tarnished gawdry known. }
They, who are by your favours wealthy made,
With mighty sums may carry on the trade;
We, broken bankers, half destroyed by fire, }
With our small stock to humble roofs retire;}
Pity our loss, while you their pomp admire. }
For fame and honour we no longer strive;
We yield in both, and only beg--to live;
Unable to support their vast expence,
Who build and treat with such magnificence,
That, like the ambitious monarchs of the age,
They give the law to our provincial stage.
Great neighbours enviously promote excess,
While they impose their splendour on the less;
But only fools, and they of vast estate, }
The extremity of modes will imitate, }
The dangling knee-fringe, and the bib-cravat,}
Yet if some pride with want may be allowed,
We in our plainness may be justly proud;
Our Royal Master willed it should be so;
Whate'er he's pleased to own, can need no show:
That sacred name gives ornament and grace,
And, like his stamp, makes basest metal pass.
'Twere folly now a stately pile to raise,
To build a playhouse while you throw down plays;
While scenes, machines, and empty operas reign,
And for the pencil you the pen disdain;
While troops of famished Frenchmen hither drive,
And laugh at those upon whose alms they live:
Old English authors vanish, and give place
To these new conquerors of the Norman race.
More tamely than your fathers you submit;
You're now grown vassals to them in your wit.
Mark, when they play, how our fine fops advance }
The mighty merits of their men of France, }
Keep time, cry, _Bon! _ and humour the cadence. }
Well, please yourselves; but sure 'tis understood,
That French machines have ne'er done England good. [335]
I would not prophecy our house's fate;
But while vain shows and scenes you over-rate,
'Tis to be feared----
That, as a fire the former house o'erthrew,
Machines and tempests[336] will destroy the new.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 335: St André, the famous ballet dancer, composed dances
for many operas about this time, which were probably performed by his
light-footed countrymen, at Dorset-Gardens. ]
[Footnote 336: "In 1673, the 'Tempest, or the Enchanted Island,'
made into an opera by Mr Shadwell, having all new in it, as scenes,
machines, &c. : one scene painted with myriads of ærial spirits; and
others flying away with a table furnished with fruits, sweetmeats, and
all sorts of viands, just when Duke Trinculo and his company were going
to dinner. All things were performed so admirably well, that not any
succeeding opera could get any money. "--_Roscius Anglicanus_, p. 34.
Shadwell had also, about this time, produced his opera of "Psyche,"
which, with the "Tempest" and other pieces depending chiefly upon shew
and scenery, were acting in Dorset-Garden, when this Prologue was
written. In order to ridicule these splendid exhibitions, the company
at Drury-Lane brought forward parodies on them, such as the "Mock
Tempest," "Psyche Debauched," &c. These pieces, though written in the
meanest style by one Duffet, a low buffoon, had a transient course of
success. ]
EPILOGUE
ON
THE SAME OCCASION.
Though what our Prologue said was sadly true,}
Yet, gentlemen, our homely house is new, }
A charm that seldom fails with wicked you. }
A country lip may have the velvet touch; }
Though she's no lady, you may think her such: }
A strong imagination may do much. }
But you, loud sirs, who through your curls look big,
Critics in plume and white vallancy wig,
Who, lolling, on our foremost benches sit,
And still charge first, the true forlorn of wit;
Whose favours, like the sun, warm where you roll,
Yet you, like him, have neither heat nor soul;
So may your hats your foretops never press,
Untouched your ribbons, sacred be your dress;
So may you slowly to old age advance,
And have the excuse of youth for ignorance;
So may fop-corner full of noise remain,
And drive far off the dull, attentive train;
So may your midnight scourings happy prove,
And morning batteries force your way to love;
So may not France your warlike hands recal,
But leave you by each others swords to fall,[337]
As you come here to ruffle vizard punk,
When sober rail, and roar when you are drunk.
But to the wits we can some merit plead,
And urge what by themselves has oft been said:
Our house relieves the ladies from the frights
Of ill-paved streets, and long dark winter nights;
The Flanders horses from a cold bleak road,
Where bears in furs dare scarcely look abroad;[338]
The audience from worn plays and fustian stuff,
Of rhime, more nauseous than three boys in buff. [339]
Though in their house the poets' heads[340] appear,
We hope we may presume their wits are here.
The best which they reserved they now will play, }
For, like kind cuckolds, though we've not the way }
To please, we'll find you abler men who may. }
If they should fail, for last recruits we breed }
A troop of frisking monsieurs to succeed: }
You know the French sure cards at time of need. }
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 337: This seems to be an allusion to the recent death of
Mr Scroop; a man of fortune, who, about this time, was stabbed in
the theatre at Dorset-Gardens by Sir Thomas Armstrong, afterwards
the confidential friend of the Duke of Monmouth. Langbaine says, he
witnessed this real tragedy, which happened during the representation
of "Macbeth," as altered and revised by D'Avenant in 1674. Mr Scroop
died immediately after his removal into a neighbouring house. ]
[Footnote 338: Alluding to the recent establishment in
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, then separated from the city by a large vacant
space. ]
[Footnote 339: "The three boys in buff," were, I believe, the three
Bold Beauchamps in an old ranting play:
"The three bold Beauchamps shall revive again,
And, with the London Prentice, conquer Spain. "
]
[Footnote 340: Some part of the ornaments of D'Avenant's scenes
probably presented the portraits of dramatic writers. ]
PROLOGUE
TO
THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 1674.
SPOKEN BY MR HART.
_Hart, who had been a captain in the civil wars, belonged to
the King's company. He was an excellent actor, and particularly
celebrated in the character of Othello. He left the stage,
according to Cibber, on the union of the companies in_ 1686. _But it
appears from a paper published in a note on the article_ "_Betterton_"
_in the_ Biographia, _that he retired in_ 1681, _upon receiving a
pension from Dr D'Avenant_, _then manager of the Duke's company_,
_who in this manner bought off both Hart and Kynaston_, _and greatly
weakened the opposite set_.
Poets, your subjects, have their parts assigned,
To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind;
When tired with following nature, you think fit
To seek repose in the cool shades of wit,
And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey
What rests, and what is conquered, of the way.
Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife,
You view the various turns of human life;
Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go,
And, undebauched, the vice of cities know.
Your theories are here to practice brought,
As in mechanic operations wrought;
And man, the little world, before you set,
As once the sphere of crystal[341] shewed the great.
Blest sure are you above all mortal kind,
If to your fortunes you can suit your mind;
Content to see, and shun, those ills we show,
And crimes on theatres alone to know.
With joy we bring what our dead authors writ,
And beg from you the value of their wit:
That Shakespeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's claim,
May be renewed from those who gave them fame.
None of our living poets dare appear;
For muses so severe are worshipped here,
That, conscious of their faults, they shun the eye, }
And, as profane, from sacred places fly, }
Rather than see the offended God, and die. }
We bring no imperfections, but our own;
Such faults as made are by the makers shown;
And you have been so kind, that we may boast,
The greatest judges still can pardon most.
Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit,
Debased even to the level of their wit;
Disdaining that, which yet they know will take,
Hating themselves what their applause must make.
But when to praise from you they would aspire,
Though they, like eagles, mount, your Jove is higher.
So far your knowledge all their power transcends,
As what should be, beyond what is, extends.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 341: Its properties are thus described by Spenser:
It vertue had to show in perfect sight
Whatever thing was in the world contained,
Betwixt the lowest earth and heaven's height,
So that it to the looker appertained.
Whatever foe had wrought, or friend designed,
Therein discovered was ne ought mote pass,
Ne ought in secret from the same remained,
Forthy it round, and hollow-shaped was,
Like to the world itself, and seemed a world of glass.
Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made,
And gave unto King Ryence for his guard.
_Fairy Queen_, Book iii. Canto 2.
]
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN
AT OXFORD, BY MRS MARSHALL.
_The date of this Epilogue is fixed by that of Bathurst's
vice-chancellorship_, _which lasted from 3d October_, 1673, _to 9th
October_ 1675.
Oft has our poet wished, this happy seat
Might prove his fading muse's last retreat:
I wondered at his wish, but now I find
He sought for quiet, and content of mind;
Which noiseful towns, and courts, can never know,
And only in the shades, like laurels, grow.
Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest,
And age, returning thence, concludes it best.
What wonder if we court that happiness
Yearly to share, which hourly you possess,
Teaching e'en you, while the vext world we show,
Your peace to value more, and better know?
'Tis all we can return for favours past,
Whose holy memory shall ever last,
For patronage from him whose care presides
O'er every noble art, and every science guides;[342]
Bathurst, a name the learned with reverence know,
And scarcely more to his own Virgil owe;
Whose age enjoys but what his youth deserved,
To rule those muses whom before he served.
His learning, and untainted manners too,
We find, Athenians, are derived to you;
Such antient hospitality there rests }
In yours, as dwelt in the first Grecian breasts, }
Whose kindness was religion to their guests. }
Such modesty did to our sex appear, }
As, had there been no laws, we need not fear, }
Since each of you was our protector here. }
Converse so chaste, and so strict virtue shown,
As might Apollo with the muses own.
Till our return, we must despair to find
Judges so just, so knowing, and so kind.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 342: Ralph Bathurst, thus highly distinguished by our author,
was a distinguished character of the age. He was uncle to Allen, the
first Lord Bathurst. He was born in 1620, and bred to the church, but
abandoned divinity for the pursuit of medicine, which he practised
until the Restoration, when he resumed his clerical character. In 1663
he became head of Trinity college, Oxford, into the court and chapel
of which he introduced the beauties of classical architecture, to
rival, if it were possible, the magnificence of the Gothic edifices
by which it is surrounded. In 1673, he had the honour to be appointed
vice-chancellor; an office which he retained for two years. During
his execution of this duty he is said to have reformed many abuses
which had crept into the university; and by liberal benefactions
added considerably to the prosperity of literature. Anthony Wood, who
had some private reason for disliking him, and who, moreover, was as
determined an enemy to the fair sex as ever harboured in a cloister,
picked a quarrel with Bathurst's wife, as he could find no reasonable
fault with the vice-chancellor himself. "Dr Bathurst took his place
of vice-chancellor; a man of good parts, and able to do good things;
but he has a wife that scorns that he should be in print; a scornful
woman! scorns that he was dean of Wells: no need of marrying such a
woman, who is so conceited, that she thinks herself fit to govern a
college, or university. "--Perhaps the countenance given by Bathurst
to the theatre, for which Dryden here expresses his gratitude, might
not tend to conciliate the good will of Anthony, who quarrelled
with his sister-in-law by refusing to treat her to the play. But it
agreed well with the character of Bathurst, who was not only a patron
of literature in all its branches, but himself an excellent Latin
poet, as his verses prefixed to Hobbes' "Leviathan," fully testify;
and as good an English poet as most of his contemporaries. He died
in his eighty-fourth year, 1704. Warton has given us the following
character of his Latin compositions, for which Dryden has celebrated
him so highly: "His Latin orations are wonderful specimens of wit and
antithesis, which were the delight of his age. They want, upon the
whole, the purity and simplicity of Tully's eloquence, but even exceed
the sententious smartness of Seneca, and the surprising turns of Pliny.
They are perpetually spirited, and discover an uncommon quickness of
thought. The manner is concise and abrupt, but yet perspicuous and
easy: His allusions are delicate, and his observations sensible and
animated; his sentiments of congratulation, or indignation, are equally
forcible: his compliments are most elegantly turned, and his satire is
most ingeniously severe. These compositions are extremely agreeable to
read, but, in the present improvement of classical taste, not so proper
to be imitated. "--_Life of Bathurst, prefixed to his Literary Remains,
published under the inspection of Mr Warton. _]
ORIGINAL
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
BY
DR CHARLES D'AVENANT, 1675.
_Dr Charles D'Avenant, the author of "Circe," was son of the
Rare Sir William D'Avenant, whom he succeeded as manager of the
Duke's company. He practised physic in Doctor's Commons, which
he afterwards abandoned for politics. He became a member of
Parliament, and inspector of the exports and imports, of which
office he died possessed in_ 1714. _He wrote many tracts upon
political subjects, especially those connected with the revenue.
"Circe," his only drama, is an opera, to which Bannister composed
the music. Besides the Prologue by our author, it was honoured by
an Epilogue by the famous Rochester, and thus graced was received
favourably. It contains some good writing, considering it was
composed at the age of nineteen; a circumstance alluded to in the
following Prologue. The original Prologue is from the 4to edition
of "_Circe_," _London_, 1677. _It was afterwards much improved, or
rather entirely re-written, by our author. _
Were you but half so wise as you're severe,
Our youthful poet should not need to fear;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
The sex, that best does pleasure understand,
Will always chuse to err on t'other hand.
They check not him that's aukward in delight,
But clap the young rogue's cheek, and set him right.
Thus heartened well, and fleshed upon his prey,
The youth may prove a man another day.
For your own sakes, instruct him when he's out,
You'll find him mend his work at every bout.
When some young lusty thief is passing by, }
How many of your tender kind will cry,-- }
"A proper fellow! pity he should die! }
He might be saved, and thank us for our pains,
There's such a stock of love within his veins. "
These arguments the women may persuade,
But move not you, the brothers of the trade,
Who, scattering your infection through the pit, }
With aching hearts and empty purses sit, }
To take your dear five shillings worth of wit. }
The praise you give him, in your kindest mood,
Comes dribbling from you, just like drops of blood;
And then you clap so civilly, for fear
The loudness might offend your neighbour's ear,
That we suspect your gloves are lined within,
For silence sake, and cotton'd next the skin.
From these usurpers we appeal to you,
The only knowing, only judging few;
You, who in private have this play allowed,
Ought to maintain your suffrage to the crowd.
The captive, once submitted to your bands,
You should protect from death by vulgar hands.
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
AS CORRECTED BY DRYDEN.
Were you but half so wise as you're severe,
Our youthful poet should not need to fear;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
