by John Dryden
Perhaps even these favourable circumstances, of taste and opportunity, would hardly have elevated the rhyming drama so high in the public opinion, had it been supported by less powers than those of Dryden, or even by equal talents less happily adapted to that style of composition. His versification flowed so easily, as to lessen the bad effects of rhyme in dialogue; and, at the same time, abounded with such splendid and sonorous passages, as, in the mouth of a Betterton, awed into silence even those critics, who could distinguish that the tumid and unnatural was sometimes substituted for the heroic and sublime. The felicity of his language, the richness of his illustrations, and the depth of his reflections, often supplied what the scene wanted in natural passion; and, while enjoying the beauty of his declamation, it was only on cool reflection that the hearer discovered it had passed upon him for the expression of genuine feeling. Even then, the pleasure which he actually received from the representation, was accepted as an apology for the more legitimate delight, which the rules of criticism entitled him to have expected. To these considerations, the high rank and consequent influence, which Dryden already held in the fashionable and literary circles of the time, must unquestionably be added. Nor did he fail to avail himself of his access to the great, whose applause was often cheaply secured by a perusal of the piece, previous to its being presented to the public; and thus it afterwards came forth with all the support of a party eminent for rank and literature, already prepossessed in its favour.
For all these reasons, the heroic drama appears to have gradually risen in reputation, from the return of Charles till about the year 1670-1, when Dryden’s “Conquest of Granada” was received with such enthusiastic applause. The reputation of the poet himself kept pace with that of his favourite style of composition; and though posterity has judged more correctly, it may be questioned, whether “Tyrannic Love” and the “Conquest of Granada” did not place Dryden higher in public esteem, in 1670, than his “Virgil” and “Fables” in 1700. He was, however, now to experience the inconveniencies of elevation, and to sustain an attack upon the style of writing which he had vindicated and practised, as well as to repel the efforts of rivals, who boasted of outstripping him in the very road to distinction, which he had himself pointed out. The Duke of Buckingham attacked the system of rhyming plays from the foundation; Leigh [Transcriber’s note: Print unclear], Clifford, and other scribblers, wrote criticisms [Transcriber’s note: Print unclear] upon those of our author in particular; and Elkanah Settle was able to form a faction heretical enough to maintain, that he could write such compositions better than Dryden.
The witty farce of the “Rehearsal” is said to have been meditated by its authors (for it was the work of several hands) so early as a year or two after the Restoration, when Sir William Davenant’s operas and tragedies were the favourite exhibitions. The ostensible author was the witty George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham whose dissipation was marked with shades of the darkest profligacy. He lived an unprincipled statesman, a fickle projector, a wavering friend, a steady enemy; and died a bankrupt, an outcast, and a proverb. The Duke was unequal to that masculine satire, which depends for edge and vigour upon the conception and expression of the author. But he appears to have possessed considerable powers of discerning what was ludicrous, and enough of subordinate humour to achieve an imitation of colloquial peculiarities, or a parody upon remarkable passages of poetry, — talents differing as widely from real wit as mimicry does from true comic action. Besides, Buckingham, as a man of fashion and a courtier, was master of the persiflage, or jargon, of the day, so essentially useful as the medium of conveying light humour. He early distinguished himself as an opponent of the rhyming plays. Those of the Howards, of Davenant, and others, the first which appeared after the Reformation, experienced his opposition. At the representation of the “United Kingdoms,” by the Honourable Edward Howard, a brother of Sir Robert, the Duke’s active share in damning the piece was so far resented by the author and his friends that he narrowly escaped sanguinary proofs of their displeasure. This specimen of irritation did not prevent his meditating an attack upon the whole body of modern dramatists; in which he had the assistance of several wits, who either respected the ancient drama, or condemned the modern style, or were willing to make common cause with a Duke against a poet-laureate. These were, the witty author of Hudibras, who, while himself starving, amused his misery by ridiculing his contemporaries; Sprat, afterwards Bishop of Rochester, then Buckingham’s chaplain; and Martin Clifford, afterwards Master of the Charter-House the author of a very scurrilous criticism upon some of Dryden’s plays, to be mentioned hereafter. By the joint efforts of this coalition, the “Rehearsal” was produced; a lively piece, which continues to please, although the plays which it parodies are no longer read or acted, and although the zest of the personal satire which it contains has evaporated in the lapse of time. This attack on the reigning taste was long threatened ere it was made; and the precise quarter to be assailed was varied more than once. Prior says, that Buckingham suspended his attack till he was certain that the Earl of Dorset would not “rehearse on him again.” The principal character was termed, in the original sketch, Bilboa, a name expressing a traveller and soldier, under which Sir Robert Howard, or Sir William Davenant, was designated The author of the “Key to the Rehearsal” affirms, that Sir Robert was the person meant; but Mr. Malone is of opinion, that Davenant is clearly pointed out by the brown paper patch, introduced in ridicule of that which Davenant really wore upon his nose. Yet as this circumstance was retained when the character was assigned to Dryden, the poet of the “Rehearsal” may be considered as in some degree a knight of the shire, representing all the authors of the day, and uniting in his person their several absurd peculiarities. The first sketch of the “Rehearsal” was written about 1664, but the representation was prevented by the theatres being shut upon the plague and fire of London. When they were again opened, the plays of the Howards, of Stapleton, etc., had fallen into contempt by their own demerit, and were no longer a well-known or worthy object of ridicule. Perhaps also there was a difficulty in bringing the piece forward, while, of the persons against whom its satire was chiefly directed, Davenant was manager of the one theatre, and Dryden a sharer in the other. The death of Davenant probably removed this difficulty: and the success of Dryden in the heroic drama; the boldness with which he stood forth, not only as a practiser, but as the champion of that peculiar style; a certain provoking tone of superiority in his critical essays, which, even when flowing from conscious merit, is not easily tolerated by contemporaries; and perhaps his situation as poet-laureate, a post which has been always considered as a fair butt for the shafts of ridicule, — induced Buckingham to resume the plan of his satire, and to place Dryden in the situation designed originally for Davenant or Howard. That the public might be at no loss to assign the character of Bayes to the laureate, his peculiarities of language were strictly copied. Lacy the actor was instructed by Buckingham himself how to mimic his voice and manner; and, in performing the part, he wore a dress exactly resembling Dryden’s usual habit. With these ill-natured precautions, the “Rehearsal” was, in 1671, brought forward for the first time by the King’s Company. As, besides the reputation of Dryden, that of many inferior poets, but greater men, was assailed by the Duke’s satire, it would appear that the play met a stormy reception on the first night of representation The friends of the Earl of Orrery, of Sir Robert Howard and his brothers, and other men of rank, who had produced heroic plays, were loud and furious in their opposition. But, as usually happens, the party who laughed, got the advantage over that which was angry, and finally drew the audience to their side. When once received, the success of the “Rehearsal” was unbounded. The very popularity of the plays ridiculed aided the effect of the satire, since everybody had in their recollection the originals of the passages parodied. Besides the attraction of personal severity upon living and distinguished literary characters, and the broad humour of the burlesque, the part of Bayes had a
claim to superior praise, as drawn with admirable attention to the foibles of the poetic tribe. His greedy appetite for applause; his testy repulse of censure or criticism; his inordinate and overwhelming vanity, not unmixed with a vein of flattery to those who he hopes will gratify him by returning it in kind; finally, that extreme, anxious, and fidgeting attention to the minute parts of what even in whole is scarce worthy of any, — are, I fear, but too appropriate qualities of the “genus vatum”
Almost all Dryden’s plays, including those on which he set the highest value, and which he had produced, with confidence, as models of their kind, were parodied in the “Rehearsal.” He alone contributed more to the farce than all the other poets together. His favourite style of comic dialogue, which he had declared to consist rather in a quick sharpness of dialogue than in delineations of humour, is paraphrased in the scene between Tom Thimble and Prince Prettyman; the lyrics of his astral spirits are cruelly burlesqued in the song of the two lawful Kings of Brentford, as they descend to repossess their throne; above all, Almanzor, his favourite hero, is parodied in the magnanimous Drawcansir; and, to conclude, the whole scope of heroic plays, with their combats, feasts, processions, sudden changes of fortune, embarrassments of chivalrous love and honour, splendid verse and unnatural rants, are so held up to ridicule, as usually to fix the resemblance upon some one of his own dramas. The “Wild Gallant,” the “Maiden Queen,” and “Tyrannic Love,” all furnish parodies as do both parts of the “Conquest of Granada,” which had been frequently acted before the representation of the “Rehearsal,” though not printed till after. What seems more strange, the play of “Marriage á la Mode” is also alluded to, although it was neither acted nor printed till 1673, a year after the appearance of the “Rehearsal”. But there being no parody of any particular passage, although the plot and conduct of the piece is certainly ridiculed, it seems probable, that, as Dryden often showed his plays in manuscript to those whom he accounted his patrons, the plan of “Marriage à la Mode” may have transpired in the circles which Buckingham frequented, who may thus have made it the subject of satire by anticipation.
It is easy to conceive what Dryden must have felt, at beholding his labours and even his person held up to public derision, on the theatre where he had so often triumphed. But he was too prudent to show outward signs of resentment; and in conversation allowed, that the farce had a great many good things in it, though so severe against himself. “Yet I cannot help saying,” he added, in a well-judged tone of contempt, “that Smith and Johnson are two of the coolest and most insignificant fellows I ever met with upon the stage.” Many years afterwards he assigned nearly the same reason to the public for not replying to the satire. But though he veiled his resentment under this mask of indifference at the time, he afterwards avowed that the exquisite character of Zimri in “Absalom and Achitophel” was laboured with so much felicitous skill as a requital in kind to the author of the “Rehearsal.”
The ridicule cast upon heroic plays by the “Rehearsal” did not prevent their being still exhibited. They contained many passages of splendid poetry, which continued to delight the audience after they had laughed at Buckingham’s parody. But the charm began to dissolve; and from the time of that representation, they seem gradually, but perceptibly, to have declined in favour. Accordingly, Dryden did not trust to his powers of numbers in his next play, but produced the “Marriage à la Mode,” a tragi-comedy or rather a tragedy and comedy, the plots and scenes of which are intermingled, for they have no natural connection with each other. The state-intrigue bears evident marks of hurry and inattention; and it is at least possible, that Dryden originally intended it for the subject of a proper heroic play, but, startled at the effect of Buckingham’s satire, hastily added to it some comic scenes, either lying by him, or composed on purpose. The higher or tragic plot is not only grossly inartificial and improbable, but its incidents are so perplexed and obscure, that it would have required much more action to detail them intelligibly. Even the language has an abridged appearance, and favours the idea, that the tragic intrigue was to have been extended into a proper heroic play, instead of occupying a spare corner in a comedy. But to make amends, the comic scenes are executed with spirit, and in a style resembling those in the “Maiden Queen.” They contained much witty and fashionable raillery; and the character of Melantha is pronounced by Cibber to exhibit the most complete system of female foppery that could possibly be crowded into the tortured form of a fine lady. It was admirably acted by Mrs. Montfort, afterwards Mrs. Verbruggen. The piece thus supported was eminently successful; a fortunate circumstance for the King’s Company, who were then in distressful circumstances. Their house in Drury-lane had been destroyed by fire, after which disaster they were compelled to occupy the old theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, lately deserted by the rival company for a splendid one in Dorset Gardens. From a prologue which our author furnished, to be spoken at the opening of this house of refuge, it would seem that even the scenes and properties of the actors had been furnished by the contributions of the nobility. Perhaps their present reduced situation was an additional reason with Dryden for turning his attention to comedy, which required less splendour of exhibition and decoration than the heroic plays.
“Marriage à la Mode” was inscribed to Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, in strains of adulation not very honourable to the dedicator. But as he expresses his gratitude for Rochester’s care, not only of his reputation but of his fortune; for his solicitude to overcome the fatal modesty of poets, which leads them to prefer want to importunity; and, finally, for the good effects of his mediation in all his concerns at court; it may be supposed some recent benefit, perhaps an active share in procuring the appointment of poet-laureate, had warmed the heart of the author towards the patron. The dedication was well received, and the compliment handsomely acknowledged as we learn from a letter from Dryden to Rochester, where he says, that the shame of being so much overpaid for an ill dedication made him almost repent of his address. But he had shortly afterwards rather more substantial reasons for regretting his choice of a patron.
The same cause for abstaining from tragic composition still remaining in force, Dryden, in 1672, brought forward a comedy, called “The Assignation, or Love in a Nunnery.” The plot was after the Spanish model. The author seems to have apprehended, and experienced, some opposition on account of this second name; and although he deprecates, in the epilogue, the idea of its being a party play, or written to gratify the Puritans with satire at the expense of the Catholics; yet he complains, in the dedication, of the number of its enemies, who came prepared to damn it on account of the title. The Duke of York having just made public profession of the Roman faith, any reflections upon it were doubtless watched with a jealous eye. But, though guiltless in this respect, the “Assignation” had worse faults. The plot is but indifferently conducted and was neither enlivened with gay dialogue, nor with striking character: the play, accordingly, proved unsuccessful in the representation. Yet although, upon reading the “Assignation,” we cannot greatly wonder at this failure, still, considering the plays which succeeded about the same time, we may be disposed to admit that the weight of a party was thrown into the scale against its reception. Buckingham, who shortly afterwards published a revised edition of the “Rehearsal,” failed not to ridicule the absurd and coarse trick, by which the enamoured prince prevents his father from discovering the domino of his mistress, which had been left in his apartment. And Dryden’s rivals and enemies, now a numerous body, hailed with malicious glee an event which seemed to foretell the decay of his popularity.
The “Assignation” was published in 1673, and inscribed, by Dryden, to his much honoured friend Sir Charles Sedley. There are some acrimonious passages in this dedication, referring to the controversies in which the author had been engaged; and, obscure as these have become, it is the biographer’s duty to detail and illustrate them.
It cannot be supposed that the authors of the time saw with indifference Dryden’
s rapid success, and the measures which he had taken, by his critical essays, to guide the public attention and to fix it upon himself and the heroic plays, in which he felt his full superiority. But no writer of the time could hope to be listened to by the public, if he entered a claim of personal competition against a poet so celebrated. The defence of the ancient poets afforded a less presumptuous and more favourable pretext for taking the field, and for assailing Dryden’s writings, and avenging the slight notice he had afforded to his contemporaries, under the colour of defending the ancients against his criticism. The “Essay of Dramatic Poesy” afforded a pretence for commencing this sort of warfare. In that piece, Dryden had pointed out the faults of Shakespeare, Jonson, and Fletcher, with less ceremony than the height of their established reputation appeared to demand from a young author. But the precedence which he undauntedly claimed for the heroic drama, and, more generally, the superiority of the plays of Dryden’s own age, whether tragic or comic, over those of the earlier part of the seventeenth century, was asserted, not only distinctly, but irreverently, in the Epilogue to the “Conquest of Granada:”
”They who have best succeeded on the stage,