John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  This is what I thought needful in this Place to say of Homer. I proceed to Ovid, and Chaucer; considering the former only in relation to the latter. With Ovid ended the Golden Age of the Roman Tongue: From Chaucer the purity of the English Tongue began, The Manners of the Poets were not unlike: Both of them were well-bred, well-natur’d, amorous, and Libertine, at least in their Writings, it may be also in their Lives. Their Studies were the same, Philosophy and Philology. Both of them were knowing in Astronomy, of which Ovid’s Books of the Roman Feasts, and Chaucer’s Treatise of the Astrolabe, are sufficient Witnesses. But Chaucer was likewise an Astrologer, as were Virgil, Horace, Persius, and Manilius. Both writ with wonderful Facility and Clearness: neither were great Inventors: For Ovid only copied the Grecian Fables; and most of Chaucer’s Stories were taken from his Italian Contemporaries or their Predecessors: Boccace his Decameron was first publish’d; and from thence our Englishman has borrow’d many of his Canterbury Tales; Yet that of Palamon and Arcite was written, in all probability, by some Italian Wit, in a former Age, as I shall prove hereafter: The Tale of Grizild was the invention of Petrarch; by him sent to Boccace; from whom it came to Chaucer: Troilus and Cressida was also written by a Lombard Author; but much amplified by our English translatour, as well as beautified; the Genius of our Countrymen in general being rather to improve an Invention, than to invent themselves; as is evident not only in our Poetry, but in many of our Manufactures. I find I have anticipated already, and taken up from Boccace before I come to him; But there is so much less behind; and I am of the Temper of most Kings, who love to be in debt, are all for present Money, no matter how they pay it afterwards: Besides, the Nature of a preface is Rambling; never wholly out of the Way, nor in it. This I have learn’d from the Practice of honest Montaign, and return at my pleasure to Ovid and Chaucer, of whom I have little more to say. Both of them built on the Inventions of other Men; yet since Chaucer had something of his own, as The Wife of Baths Tale, The Cock and the Fox, which I have translated, and some others, I may justly give our Countryman the Precedence in that Part; since I can remember nothing of Ovid which was wholly his. Both of them understood the Manners, under which Name I comprehend the Passions, and, in a larger Sense, the Descriptions of Persons, and their very Habits. For an Example, I see Baucis and Philemon as perfectly before me, as if some ancient Painter had drawn them; and all the Pilgrims in the Canterbury Tales, their Humours, their Features, and the very Dress, as distinctly as if I had supp’d with them at the Tabard in Southwark; Yet even there too the Figures in Chaucer are much more lively, and set in a better Light: which though I have not Time to prove, yet I appeal to the Reader, and am sure he will clear me from Partiality. The Thoughts and Words remain to be consider’d, in the Comparison of the two Poets; and I have sav’d my self one half of that Labour, by owning that Ovid liv’d when the Roman Tongue was in its Meridian; Chaucer, in the Dawning of our Language: Therefore that Part of the Comparison stands not on an equal Foot, any more than the Diction of Ennius and Ovid, or of Chaucer, and our present English. The Words are given up as a Post not to be defended in our Poet, because he wanted the Modern Art of Fortifying. The Thoughts remain to be consider’d: And they are to be measur’d only by their Propriety; that is, as they flow more or less naturally from the Persons describ’d, on such and such Occasions. The Vulgar Judges, which are Nine Parts in Ten of all Nations, who call Conceits and Jingles Wit, who see Ovid full of them, and Chaucer altogether without them, will think me little less than mad for preferring the Englishman to the Roman: Yet, with their leave, I must presume to say, that the Things they admire are only glittering Trifles, and so far from being Witty, that in a serious Poem they are nauseous, because they are unnatural. Wou’d any Man, who is ready to die for Love, describe his passion like Narcissus? Wou’d he think of inopem me copia fecit, and a Dozen more of such Expressions, pour’d on the Neck of one another, and signifying all the same Thing? If this were Wit, was this a Time to be witty, when the poor Wretch was in the Agony of Death? This is just John Littlewit in Bartholomew Fair, who had a Conceit (as he tells you) left him in his Misery; a miserable Conceit. On these Occasions the Poet shou’d endeavour to raise Pity; but instead of this, Ovid is tickling you to laugh. Virgil never made use of such Machines, when he was moving you to commiserate the Death of Dido: He would not destroy what he was building. Chaucer makes Arcite violent in his Love, and unjust in the Pursuit of it: Yet when he came to die, he made him think more reasonably: He repents not of his Love, for that had alter’d his Character; but acknowledges the Injustice of his Proceedings, and resigns Emilia to Palamon. What would Ovid have done on this Occasion? He would certainly have made Arcite witty on his Death-bed. He had complain’d he was farther off from Possession, by being so near, and a thousand such Boyisms, which Chaucer rejected as below the Dignity of the Subject. They who think otherwise, would, by the same Reason, prefer Lucan and Ovid to Homer and Virgil, and Martial to all Four of them. As for the Turn of Words, in which Ovid particularly excels all Poets; they are sometimes a Fault, and sometimes a Beauty, as they are used properly or improperly; but in strong Passions always to be shunn’d, because Passions are serious, and will admit no Playing. The French have a high Value for them; and I confess, they are often what they call Delicate, when they are introduced with Judgment; but Chaucer writ with more Simplicity, and follow’d Nature more closely, than to use them. I have thus far, to the best of my Knowledge, been an upright Judge betwixt the Parties in Competition, not medling with the Design nor the Disposition of it; because the Design was not their own, and in the disposing of it they were equal. It remains that I say somewhat of Chaucer in particular. 24

  In the first place, As he is the father of English Poetry, so I hold him in the same Degree of Veneration as the Grecians held Homer, or the Romans Virgil: He is a perpetual Fountain of good Sense; learn’d in all Sciences; and therefore speaks properly on all Subjects: As he knew what to say, so he knows also when to leave off; a Continence which is practis’d by few Writers, and scarcely by any of the Ancients, excepting Virgil and Horace. One of our late great Poets is sunk in his Reputation because he cou’d never forgo any conceit which came in his way; but swept like a Drag-net, great and small. There was plenty enough, but the Dishes were ill-sorted; whole pyramids of Sweet-meats, for Boys and Women; but little of solid Meat, for Men: All this proceeded not from any want of Knowledge, but of Judgment; neither did he want that in discerning the Beauties and Faults of other Poets; but only indulg’d himself in the Luxury of Writing; and perhaps knew it was a Fault, but hop’d the Reader would not find it. For this Reason, though he must always be thought a great Poet, he is no longer esteem’d a good Writer: and for Ten Impressions which his Works have had in so many successive Years, yet at present a hundred Books are scarcely purchas’d once a Twelve month: For as my last Lord Rochester said, though somewhat profanely, Not being of God, he could not stand. 25

  Chaucer follow’d Nature every where; but was never so bold to go beyond her: And there is a great Difference of being Poeta and nimis Poeta, if we may believe Catullus, as much as betwixt a modest Behaviour and Affectation. The Verse of Chaucer, I confess, is not Harmonious to us; but ’tis like the Eloquence of one whom Tacitus commends, it was auribus istius temporis accommodata; they who liv’d with him, and some time after him, thought it Musical; and it continues so even in our Judgment, if compar’d with the Numbers of Lidgate and Gower, his Contemporaries: there is the rude Sweetness of a Scotch Tune in it, which is natural and pleasing, though not perfect. ’Tis true, I cannot go so far as he who publish’d the last Edition of him; for he would make us believe the Fault is in our Ears, and that there were really Ten Syllables in a Verse where we find but Nine: But this opinion is not worth confuting; ’tis so gross and obvious an Errour, that common Sense (which is a Rule in every thing but Matters of Faith and Revelation) must convince the Reader, that Equality of Numbers in every Verse which we call Heroick, was either not known, or not always
practis’d in Chaucer’s Age. It were an easie Matter to produce some thousands of his Verses, which are lame for want of half a foot, and sometimes a whole one, and which no pronunciation can make otherwise. We can only say, that he liv’d in the Infancy of our Poetry, and that nothing is brought to Perfection at the first. We must be Children before we grow Men. There was an Ennius, and in process of Time a Lucilius, and a Lucretius, before Virgil and Horace; even after Chaucer there was a Spencer, a Harrington, a Fairfax, before Waller and Denham were in being: And our Numbers were in their Nonage till these last appear’d. I need say little of his Parentage, Life, and Fortunes: they are to be found at large in all the Editions of his Works. He was employ’d abroad and favoured by Edward the Third, Richard the Second, and Henry the Fourth, and was Poet, as I suppose, to all Three of them. In Richard’s time, I doubt, he was a little dipt in the Rebellion of the Commons; and being Brother-in-Law to John of Ghant, it was no wonder if he follow’d the Fortunes of that Family; and was well with Henry the Fourth when he had depos’d his Predecessor. Neither is it to be admir’d, that Henry, who was a wise as well as a valiant Prince, who claim’d by Succession, and was sensible that his Title was not sound, but was rightfully in Mortimer, who had married the Heir of York; it was not to be admir’d, I say, if that great Politician should be pleas’d to have the greatest Wit of those Times in his Interests, and to be the Trumpet of his Praises. Augustus had given him the Example, by the Advice of Mecænas, who recommended Virgil and Horace to him; whose Praises help’d to make him popular while he was alive, and after his Death have made him Precious to Posterity. As for the Religion of our Poet, he seems to have some little Byas towards the Opinions of Wickliff, after John of Gaunt his Patron; somewhat of which appears in the Tale of Piers Plowman: Yet I cannot blame him for inveighing so sharply against the Vices of the Clergy in his Age: Their Pride, their Ambition, their Pomp, their Avarice, their Worldly Interest, deserv’d the Lashes which he gave them, both in that, and in most of his Canterbury Tales: Neither has his Contemporary Boccace, spar’d them. Yet both those Poets lived in much esteem with good and holy Men in Orders: For the Scandal which is given by particular Priests, reflects not on the Sacred Function. Chaucer’s Monk, his Chanon, and his Fryar took not from the Character of his Good Parson. A Satyrical Poet is the Check of the Laymen on bad Priests. We are only to take care, that we involve not the Innocent with the Guilty in the same Condemnation. The Good cannot be too much honour’d, nor the Bad too coursely us’d: For the Corruption of the Best, becomes the Worst. When a Clergy-man is whipp’d, his Gown is first taken off, by which the Dignity of his Order is secur’d: If he be wrongfully accus’d, he has his Action of Slander; and ’tis at the Poet’s Peril, if he transgress the Law. But they will tell us, that all kind of Satire, though never so well deserv’d by particular Priests, yet brings the whole Order into Contempt. Is then the Peerage of England anything dishonour’d, when a peer suffers for his Treason? If he be libell’d, or any way defam’d, he has his Scandalum Magnatum to punish the Offendor. They who use this kind of Argument, seem to be conscious to themselves of somewhat which has deserv’d the Poet’s Lash; and are less concern’d for their Publick Capacity, than for their private: At least there is Pride at the bottom of their Reasoning. If the Faults of Men in Orders are only to be judg’d among themselves, they are all in some sort Parties: For, since they say the Honour of their Order is concern’d in every Member of it, how can we be sure, that they will be impartial Judges? How far I may be allow’d to speak my Opinion in this Case, I know not: But I am sure a Dispute of this Nature caused Mischief in abundance betwixt a King of England and an Archbishop of Canterbury; one standing up for the Laws of his Land, and the other for the Honour (as he called it), of God’s Church; which ended in the Murther of the Prelate, and in the whipping of his Majesty from Post to Pillar for his Penance. The Learn’d and Ingenious Dr. Drake has sav’d me the Labour of inquiring into the Esteem and Reverence which the Priests have had of old: and I would rather extend than diminish any part of it: Yet I must needs say, that when a Priest provokes me without any Occasion given him, I have no Reason, unless it be the Charity of a Christian, to forgive him: Prior læsit is Justification sufficient in the Civil Law. If I answer him in his own Language, Self-defence, I am sure, must be allow’d me; and if I carry it farther, even to a sharp Recrimination, somewhat may be indulged to Humane Frailty. Yet my Resentment has not wrought so far but that I have follow’d Chaucer in his Character of a Holy Man, and have enlarg’d on that Subject with some Pleasure, reserving to my self the Right, if I shall think fit hereafter, to describe another sort of Priests, such as are more easily to be found than the Good Parson; such as have given the last Blow to Christianity in this Age, by a Practice so contrary to their Doctrine. But this will keep cold till another time. In the mean while, I take up Chaucer where I left him. He must have been a Man of a most wonderful comprehensive Nature, because, as it has been truly observ’d of him, he has taken into the Compass of his Canterbury Tales the various Manners and Humours (as we now call them) of the whole English Nation in his Age. Not a single Character has escap’d him. All his Pilgrims are severally distinguish’d from each other: and not only in their Inclinations, but in their very Phisiognomies and Persons. Baptista Porta could not have describ’d their Natures better, than by the Marks which the Poet gives them. The Matter and Manner of their Tales, and of their Telling are so suited to their different Educations, Humours and Callings, that each of them would be improper in any other Mouth. Even the grave and serious Characters are distinguish’d by their several sorts of Gravity: Their Discourses are such as belong to their Age, their Calling, and their Breeding; such as are becoming of them, and of them only. Some of his Persons are Vicious, and some vertuous; some are unlearn’d or (as Chaucer calls them) Lewd, and some are Learn’d. Even the Ribaldry of the Low Characters is different: The Reeve, the Miller, and the Cook are several Men, and distinguish’d from each other, as much as the mincing Lady Prioress and the broad-speaking gap-toothed Wife of Bathe. But enough of this: There is such a Variety of Game springing up before me, that I am distracted in my Choice, and know not which to follow. ’Tis sufficient to say, according to the Proverb, that here is God’s Plenty. We have our Fore-fathers and Great Grandames all before us, as they were in Chaucer’s Days; their general Characters are still remaining in Mankind, and even in England, though they are called by other Names than those of Moncks and Fryars, and Chanons, and Lady Abbesses, and Nuns: For Mankind is ever the same, and nothing lost out of Nature, though every thing is alter’d. May I have leave to do myself the Justice (since my Enemies will do me none, and are so far from granting me to be a good Poet that they will not allow me so much as to be a Christian, or a Moral Man), may I have leave, I say, to inform my Reader, that I have confin’d my Choice to such Tales of Chaucer as savour nothing of Immodesty. If I had desir’d more to please than to instruct, the Reve, the Miller, the Shipman, the Merchant, the Sumner, and, above all, the Wife of Bathe, in the Prologue to her Tale, would have procur’d me as many Friends and Readers, as there are Beaux and Ladies of Pleasure in the Town. But I will no more offend against Good Manners: I am sensible, as I ought to be, of the Scandal I have given by my loose Writings; and make what Reparation I am able by this Publick Acknowledgment. If anything of this Nature, or of Profaneness, be crept into these Poems, I am so far from defending it, that I disown it. Totum hoc indictum volo. Chaucer makes another manner of Apologie for his broad-speaking, and Boccace makes the like; but I will follow neither of them. Our Country-man, in the end of his Characters, before the Canterbury Tales, thus excuses the Ribaldry, which is very gross in many of his Novels: