SONG.

1st Gent.What flaws and whils of weather,Or rather storms, have been aloft these three days!How dark and hot, and full of mutiny,And still grows louder.—Mas.It has been stubborn weather.2d Gent.Strange work at sea: I fear me there's old tumbling.1st Gent.Bless my old uncle's bark! I have a venture.2d Gent.And I more than I'd wish to lose.Schol.Do you fear?2nd Gent.Ha! how he looks!Mas.Nay, mark him better, gentlemen.2d Gent.Mercy upon me! how his eyes are altered!Mas.Now, tell me how you like him; whether nowHe be that perfect man you credited?Schol.Does the sea stagger ye?Mas.Now ye have hit the nick.Schol.Do ye fear the billows?1st Gent.What ails him? who has stirred him?Schol.Be not shaken,Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through you:Let it blow on, blow on! Let the clouds wrestle,And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous;The sea in hideous mountains rise, and tumbleUpon a dolphin's back! I'll make all tremble,For I am Neptune!Mas.Now, what think ye of him?2d Gent.Alas, poor man!Schol.Your bark shall plow through all,And not a surge so saucy as disturb her.I'll see her safe; my power shall sail before her.Down, ye angry waters all,Ye loud whistling whirlwinds, fall!Down, ye proud waves, ye storms cease;I command ye, be at peace!Fright not with your churlish notes,Nor bruise the keel of bark that floatsNo devouring fish come nigh,Nor monster in my empery,Once shew his head, or terror bring,But let the weary sailor sing.Amphitrite, with white arms,Strike my lute, I'll sing thy charms.Mas.He must have music now; I must observe him;This fit will grow too full else.[Music and Song.]

1st Gent.What flaws and whils of weather,Or rather storms, have been aloft these three days!How dark and hot, and full of mutiny,And still grows louder.—

1st Gent.What flaws and whils of weather,

Or rather storms, have been aloft these three days!

How dark and hot, and full of mutiny,

And still grows louder.—

Mas.It has been stubborn weather.

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

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

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

Schol.Do you fear?

2nd Gent.Ha! how he looks!

Mas.Nay, mark him better, gentlemen.

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

Mas.Now, tell me how you like him; whether nowHe be that perfect man you credited?

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

He be that perfect man you credited?

Schol.Does the sea stagger ye?

Mas.Now ye have hit the nick.

Schol.Do ye fear the billows?

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

Schol.Be not shaken,Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through you:Let it blow on, blow on! Let the clouds wrestle,And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous;The sea in hideous mountains rise, and tumbleUpon a dolphin's back! I'll make all tremble,For I am Neptune!

Schol.Be not shaken,

Nor let the singing of the storm shoot through you:

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

And let the vapours of the earth turn mutinous;

The sea in hideous mountains rise, and tumble

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

For I am Neptune!

Mas.Now, what think ye of him?

2d Gent.Alas, poor man!

Schol.Your bark shall plow through all,And not a surge so saucy as disturb her.I'll see her safe; my power shall sail before her.Down, ye angry waters all,Ye loud whistling whirlwinds, fall!Down, ye proud waves, ye storms cease;I command ye, be at peace!Fright not with your churlish notes,Nor bruise the keel of bark that floatsNo devouring fish come nigh,Nor monster in my empery,Once shew his head, or terror bring,But let the weary sailor sing.Amphitrite, with white arms,Strike my lute, I'll sing thy charms.

Schol.Your bark shall plow through all,

And not a surge so saucy as disturb her.

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

Down, ye angry waters all,

Ye loud whistling whirlwinds, fall!

Down, ye proud waves, ye storms cease;

I command ye, be at peace!

Fright not with your churlish notes,

Nor bruise the keel of bark that floats

No devouring fish come nigh,

Nor monster in my empery,

Once shew his head, or terror bring,

But let the weary sailor sing.

Amphitrite, with white arms,

Strike my lute, I'll sing thy charms.

Mas.He must have music now; I must observe him;This fit will grow too full else.

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

This fit will grow too full else.

[Music and Song.]

Here it seems probable the following Mad Song, betwixt the Scholar and his Mistress, was introduced. Probably the Dialogue sustained some alterations in the action, to render the introduction of Phillis more natural; for, in the original, the Scholar, far from having lost his senses by being crossed in love, disclaims acquaintance with the passion during his previous examination.

1st Gent.Is there no unkindnessYou have conceived from any friend or parent,Or scorn from what you loved?Schol.No, truly, sir,I never yet was master of a faithSo poor and weak to doubt my friend or kindred;And what love is, unless it be in learning,I think I'm ignorant.

1st Gent.Is there no unkindnessYou have conceived from any friend or parent,Or scorn from what you loved?

1st Gent.Is there no unkindness

You have conceived from any friend or parent,

Or scorn from what you loved?

Schol.No, truly, sir,I never yet was master of a faithSo poor and weak to doubt my friend or kindred;And what love is, unless it be in learning,I think I'm ignorant.

Schol.No, truly, sir,

I never yet was master of a faith

So poor and weak to doubt my friend or kindred;

And what love is, unless it be in learning,

I think I'm ignorant.

This passage is retained in "The Pilgrim," as altered by Sir John Vanburgh; so that it does not appear what alterations were made, to accommodate the Song to the Scholar's previous appearance. The idea of the character is copied from the story told by the Curate, in the First Chapter of the Second Part of the Adventures of the Knight of La Mancha, and applied by him to the relapse of that doughty champion.

MUSIC WITHIN.

The Lovers enter at opposite Doors, each held by a Keeper.

Phil.Look, look, I see—I see my love appear!'Tis he, 'tis he alone,For like him there is none:'Tis the dear, dear man, 'tis thee, dear.Amyn.Hark! the winds war,The foaming waves roar:I see a ship afar,Tossing and tossing, and making to the shore.But what's that I view,So radiant of hue,St Hermo, St Hermo[68], that sits upon the sails?Ah! no, no, no.St Hermo never, never shone so bright;'Tis Phillis! only Phillis can shoot so fair a light;'Tis Phillis, 'tis Phillis, that saves the ship alone,For all the winds are hushed, and the storm is overblown.Phil.Let me go, let me run, let me fly to his arms.Amyn.If all the fates combine,And all the furies join,I'll force my way to Phillis, and break through the charm.[Here they break from their Keepers, run to each other, and embrace.Phil.Shall I marry the man I love?And shall I conclude my pains?Now blessed be the powers above,I feel the blood bound in my veins!With a lively leap it began to move,And the vapours leave my brains.Amyn.Body joined to body, and heart joined to heart,To make sure of the cure,Go, call the man in black, to mumble o'er his part.Phil.But suppose he should stay—Amyn.At worst, if he delay,'Tis a work must be done;We'll borrow but a day,And the better the sooner begun.Cho. of both.At worst, if he delay, &c.[They run out together, hand in hand.

Phil.Look, look, I see—I see my love appear!'Tis he, 'tis he alone,For like him there is none:'Tis the dear, dear man, 'tis thee, dear.

Phil.Look, look, I see—I see my love appear!

'Tis he, 'tis he alone,

For like him there is none:

'Tis the dear, dear man, 'tis thee, dear.

Amyn.Hark! the winds war,The foaming waves roar:I see a ship afar,Tossing and tossing, and making to the shore.But what's that I view,So radiant of hue,St Hermo, St Hermo[68], that sits upon the sails?Ah! no, no, no.St Hermo never, never shone so bright;'Tis Phillis! only Phillis can shoot so fair a light;'Tis Phillis, 'tis Phillis, that saves the ship alone,For all the winds are hushed, and the storm is overblown.

Amyn.Hark! the winds war,

The foaming waves roar:

I see a ship afar,

Tossing and tossing, and making to the shore.

But what's that I view,

So radiant of hue,

St Hermo, St Hermo[68], that sits upon the sails?

Ah! no, no, no.

St Hermo never, never shone so bright;

'Tis Phillis! only Phillis can shoot so fair a light;

'Tis Phillis, 'tis Phillis, that saves the ship alone,

For all the winds are hushed, and the storm is overblown.

Phil.Let me go, let me run, let me fly to his arms.

Amyn.If all the fates combine,And all the furies join,I'll force my way to Phillis, and break through the charm.

Amyn.If all the fates combine,

And all the furies join,

I'll force my way to Phillis, and break through the charm.

[Here they break from their Keepers, run to each other, and embrace.

Phil.Shall I marry the man I love?And shall I conclude my pains?Now blessed be the powers above,I feel the blood bound in my veins!With a lively leap it began to move,And the vapours leave my brains.

Phil.Shall I marry the man I love?

And shall I conclude my pains?

Now blessed be the powers above,

I feel the blood bound in my veins!

With a lively leap it began to move,

And the vapours leave my brains.

Amyn.Body joined to body, and heart joined to heart,To make sure of the cure,Go, call the man in black, to mumble o'er his part.

Amyn.Body joined to body, and heart joined to heart,

To make sure of the cure,

Go, call the man in black, to mumble o'er his part.

Phil.But suppose he should stay—

Amyn.At worst, if he delay,'Tis a work must be done;We'll borrow but a day,And the better the sooner begun.

Amyn.At worst, if he delay,

'Tis a work must be done;

We'll borrow but a day,

And the better the sooner begun.

Cho. of both.At worst, if he delay, &c.[They run out together, hand in hand.

Cho. of both.At worst, if he delay, &c.

[They run out together, hand in hand.

The moral of this emblematical representation is sufficiently intelligible. By the introduction of the deities of the chace, of war, and of love, as governing the various changes of the seventeenth century, the poet alludes to the sylvan sports of James the First, the bloody wars of his son, and the licentious gallantry which reigned in the courts of Charles II. and James his successor.

James I. was inordinately attached to the sports of the chace: it was indeed the only manly passion which our British Solomon ever manifested; his dress was of the forest-green, and his only severity was in executing the game-laws[69]. Able hunters were thebribes by which the English courtiers endeavoured to secure his favour[70], while he was yet but king of Scotland; and, in England, his perpetual hunting expeditions were censured by his prelates[71], and their oppressive duration deprecated by his subjects, who, to render their complaints more palatable, contrived, upon one occasion, to make a favourite hound convey a hint of the burthen, which his long residence at a hunting seat imposed upon the neighbourhood[72]. Even in the most advanced state of his age and imbecility, when unable to sit on horseback without assistance, he contrived to pursue the chace by being laced or tied up in his saddle! When we add to this vehement passion for hunting, the spirit of extravagant dissipation, which discharged itself "in shows, sights, and banquetings, from morn to eve[73]," where eventhe ladies abandoned their sobriety, the age of James might well be characterised, as in the Masque,

A very merry, dancing, drinking,Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

A very merry, dancing, drinking,

Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

To show how justly the middle part of the seventeenth century was characterised, as under the influence of Mars, we have only to mention the great civil war, which so long ravaged the whole kingdom.

The manners of the court of Charles II., so notoriously dissolute and licentious, when, as our author says in the Epilogue,

Whitehall the naked Venus first revealed,

amply vindicate Dryden for placing the period in which they were fashionable under the dominion of the queen of Cyprus.

The moral, by which the whole masque is winded up, was sadly true. The frivolity of James the First's sports would have been admitted by the sapient monarch himself—

His sport had a beast in view.

But it is less credible, were it not a historical fact, that the wars of Charles the First "brought nothing about;" since royal prerogative, and popular encroachment, far from being adjusted by so many years bloodshed, were as much themes of mutual dissention betwixt the Court and the House of Commons in the reign of Charles II. as during that of his father. But so bloody a lesson was not entirely lost. The contending parties at the Revolution lived too near that eventful period, not to be aware of the direful consequences of civil war, and thence, by mutual concession, were determined to avoid the repetition of similar calamities. The nation gained by the compromise; for freedom is always benefited by the equal balance of contending factions, and as certainly suffers by the decided ascendancy of either.

A thousand lampoons bear witness, that, during the reign of Venus, under the auspices of Charles II. her

——Lovers were all untrue.

The modern reader will find the most decent, and, at the same time, the most lively record of their infidelities, in Count Hamilton'sMemoires du Compte de Grammont.

From the "Secular Masque" being performed in the beginning of the year 1700, it appears, that, by a blunder, or rather confusion of ideas, the century was supposed to terminate with 1699; in other words, a hundred years were considered as accomplished when the hundredth was just commenced:—an error of calculation which, though it could not puzzle a horse-jockey, who, if he was to ride twenty miles, would hardly think he had accomplished the match by riding nineteen, did, nevertheless, find patrons in the year 1800, though hardly any of such account as Dryden.

The original music of the Masque was very much approved. It is mentioned in the Travels of John Buncle. Mr Malone believes Daniel Purcel to have been the composer. It was set anew by Dr Boyce, and afterwards revived with success at Drury-Lane in 1749. The hunting song was long popular.

EnterJanus.

Janus.Chronos, Chronos, mend thy pace;An hundred times the rolling sunAround the radiant belt has runIn his revolving race.Behold, behold, the goal in sight,Spread thy fans, and wing thy flight.EnterChronos,with a Scythe in his hand, and a Globe on his back; which he sets down at his entrance.Chronos.Weary, weary of my weight,Let me, let me drop my freight,And leave the world behind.I could not bear,Another year,The load of humankind.EnterMomus,laughing.Momus.Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! well hast thou done,To lay down thy pack,And lighten thy back,The world was a fool, e'er since it begun;And since neither Janus, nor Chronos, nor I,Can hinder the crimes,Or mend the bad times,'Tis better to laugh than to cry.Cho. of all three.'Tis better to laugh than to cry.Janus.Since Momus comes to laugh below,Old Time begin the show,That he may see, in every scene,What changes in this age have been.Chronos.Then, goddess of the silver bow, begin.[Horns, or hunting-music, within.]EnterDiana.Dia.With horns and with hounds, I waken the day,And hie to the woodland-walks away;I tuck up my robe, and am buskined soon,And tie to my forehead a wexing moon.I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox,And chace the wild goats o'er summits of rocks;With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.Cho. of all.With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.Janus.Then our age was in its prime:Chronos.Free from rage,Diana.——And free from crime.Momus.A very merry, dancing, drinking,Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.Cho. of all.Then our age was in its prime,Free from rage, and free from crime;A very merry, dancing, drinking,Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.[Dance ofDiana'sAttendants.]EnterMars.Mars.Inspire the vocal brass, inspire;The world is past its infant age:Arms and honour,Arms and honour,Set the martial mind on fire,And kindle manly rage.Mars has looked the sky to red;And Peace, the lazy God,[74]is fled.Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly;The sprightly green,In woodland-walks, no more is seen;The sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye.Cho. of all.Plenty, peace, &c.Mars.Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;Through all the world around,Sound a reveillé, sound, sound,The warrior god is come.Cho. of all.Sound the trumpet, &c.Momus.Thy sword within the scabbard keep,And let mankind agree;Better the world were fast asleep,Than kept awake by thee.The fools are only thinner,With all our cost and care;But neither side a winner,For things are as they were.Cho. of all.The fools are only, &c.EnterVenus.Venus.Calms appear, when storms are past;Love will have his hour at last:Nature is my kindly care;Mars destroys, and I repair;Take me, take me, while you may,Venus comes not every day.Cho. of all.Take her, take her, &c.Chronos.The world was then so light,I scarcely felt the weight;Joy ruled the day, and Love the night.But, since the queen of pleasure left the ground,[75]I faint, I lag,And feebly dragThe ponderous orb around.Momus.All, all of a piece throughout;Thy chace had a beast in view;[Pointing toDiana.[ToMars.Thy wars brought nothing about;Thy lovers were all untrue.[ToVenus.Janus.'Tis well an old age is out,Chronos.And time to begin a new.Cho. of all.All, all of a piece throughout;Thy chace had a beast in view:—Thy wars brought nothing about;—Thy lovers were all untrue.—'Tis well an old age is out,And time to begin a new.[Dance of Huntsmen, Nymphs, Warriors, and Lovers.

Janus.Chronos, Chronos, mend thy pace;An hundred times the rolling sunAround the radiant belt has runIn his revolving race.Behold, behold, the goal in sight,Spread thy fans, and wing thy flight.

Janus.Chronos, Chronos, mend thy pace;

An hundred times the rolling sun

Around the radiant belt has run

In his revolving race.

Behold, behold, the goal in sight,

Spread thy fans, and wing thy flight.

EnterChronos,with a Scythe in his hand, and a Globe on his back; which he sets down at his entrance.

Chronos.Weary, weary of my weight,Let me, let me drop my freight,And leave the world behind.I could not bear,Another year,The load of humankind.

Chronos.Weary, weary of my weight,

Let me, let me drop my freight,

And leave the world behind.

I could not bear,

Another year,

The load of humankind.

EnterMomus,laughing.

Momus.Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! well hast thou done,To lay down thy pack,And lighten thy back,The world was a fool, e'er since it begun;And since neither Janus, nor Chronos, nor I,Can hinder the crimes,Or mend the bad times,'Tis better to laugh than to cry.

Momus.Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! well hast thou done,

To lay down thy pack,

And lighten thy back,

The world was a fool, e'er since it begun;

And since neither Janus, nor Chronos, nor I,

Can hinder the crimes,

Or mend the bad times,

'Tis better to laugh than to cry.

Cho. of all three.'Tis better to laugh than to cry.

Janus.Since Momus comes to laugh below,Old Time begin the show,That he may see, in every scene,What changes in this age have been.

Janus.Since Momus comes to laugh below,

Old Time begin the show,

That he may see, in every scene,

What changes in this age have been.

Chronos.Then, goddess of the silver bow, begin.[Horns, or hunting-music, within.]

Chronos.Then, goddess of the silver bow, begin.

[Horns, or hunting-music, within.]

EnterDiana.

Dia.With horns and with hounds, I waken the day,And hie to the woodland-walks away;I tuck up my robe, and am buskined soon,And tie to my forehead a wexing moon.I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox,And chace the wild goats o'er summits of rocks;With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

Dia.With horns and with hounds, I waken the day,

And hie to the woodland-walks away;

I tuck up my robe, and am buskined soon,

And tie to my forehead a wexing moon.

I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox,

And chace the wild goats o'er summits of rocks;

With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,

And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

Cho. of all.With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

Cho. of all.With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky,

And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.

Janus.Then our age was in its prime:

Chronos.Free from rage,

Diana.——And free from crime.

Momus.A very merry, dancing, drinking,Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

Momus.A very merry, dancing, drinking,

Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

Cho. of all.Then our age was in its prime,Free from rage, and free from crime;A very merry, dancing, drinking,Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.[Dance ofDiana'sAttendants.]

Cho. of all.Then our age was in its prime,

Free from rage, and free from crime;

A very merry, dancing, drinking,

Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time.

[Dance ofDiana'sAttendants.]

EnterMars.

Mars.Inspire the vocal brass, inspire;The world is past its infant age:Arms and honour,Arms and honour,Set the martial mind on fire,And kindle manly rage.Mars has looked the sky to red;And Peace, the lazy God,[74]is fled.Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly;The sprightly green,In woodland-walks, no more is seen;The sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye.

Mars.Inspire the vocal brass, inspire;

The world is past its infant age:

Arms and honour,

Set the martial mind on fire,

And kindle manly rage.

Mars has looked the sky to red;

And Peace, the lazy God,[74]is fled.

Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly;

The sprightly green,

In woodland-walks, no more is seen;

The sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye.

Cho. of all.Plenty, peace, &c.

Mars.Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;Through all the world around,Sound a reveillé, sound, sound,The warrior god is come.

Mars.Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;

Through all the world around,

Sound a reveillé, sound, sound,

The warrior god is come.

Cho. of all.Sound the trumpet, &c.

Momus.Thy sword within the scabbard keep,And let mankind agree;Better the world were fast asleep,Than kept awake by thee.The fools are only thinner,With all our cost and care;But neither side a winner,For things are as they were.

Momus.Thy sword within the scabbard keep,

And let mankind agree;

Better the world were fast asleep,

Than kept awake by thee.

The fools are only thinner,

With all our cost and care;

But neither side a winner,

For things are as they were.

Cho. of all.The fools are only, &c.

EnterVenus.

Venus.Calms appear, when storms are past;Love will have his hour at last:Nature is my kindly care;Mars destroys, and I repair;Take me, take me, while you may,Venus comes not every day.

Venus.Calms appear, when storms are past;

Love will have his hour at last:

Nature is my kindly care;

Mars destroys, and I repair;

Take me, take me, while you may,

Venus comes not every day.

Cho. of all.Take her, take her, &c.

Chronos.The world was then so light,I scarcely felt the weight;Joy ruled the day, and Love the night.But, since the queen of pleasure left the ground,[75]I faint, I lag,And feebly dragThe ponderous orb around.

Chronos.The world was then so light,

I scarcely felt the weight;

Joy ruled the day, and Love the night.

But, since the queen of pleasure left the ground,[75]

I faint, I lag,

And feebly drag

The ponderous orb around.

Momus.All, all of a piece throughout;Thy chace had a beast in view;[Pointing toDiana.[ToMars.Thy wars brought nothing about;Thy lovers were all untrue.[ToVenus.

Momus.All, all of a piece throughout;

Thy chace had a beast in view;[Pointing toDiana.

Thy wars brought nothing about;

Thy lovers were all untrue.[ToVenus.

Janus.'Tis well an old age is out,

Chronos.And time to begin a new.

Cho. of all.All, all of a piece throughout;Thy chace had a beast in view:—Thy wars brought nothing about;—Thy lovers were all untrue.—'Tis well an old age is out,And time to begin a new.[Dance of Huntsmen, Nymphs, Warriors, and Lovers.

Cho. of all.All, all of a piece throughout;

Thy chace had a beast in view:—

Thy wars brought nothing about;—

Thy lovers were all untrue.—

'Tis well an old age is out,

And time to begin a new.

[Dance of Huntsmen, Nymphs, Warriors, and Lovers.

This epilogue bears chiefly reference to the violent controversy, which, about this time, arose between the favourers of the drama and Jeremy Collier, who, in 1698, published "A short View of the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage;"—"I believe," says Johnson, "with no other view, than religious zeal, and honest indignation.[76]He was formed for a controvertist; with sufficient learning, with diction vehement and pointed, though often vulgar and incorrect, with unconquerable pertinacity, with wit in the highest degree keen and sarcastic, and with all those powers exalted and invigorated by just confidence in his cause.

"Thus qualified, and thus incited, he walked forth to battle, and assailed, at once, most of the living writers, from Dryden to Durfey. His onset was violent. Those passages which, while they had stood single, had passed with little notice, when they were accumulated and exposed together, excited horror. The wise and the pious caught the alarm; and the nation wondered why it had so long suffered irreligion and licentiousness to be openly taught at the public charge."—Life of Congreve.

Dryden had his personal share of rough treatment in this indiscriminate attack upon dramatic profligacy. But it is creditable to him, that, whatever his feelings of resentment might be, he was too much conscience-struck to attempt a defence of what was really indefensible. "I shall say the less of Mr Collier, because inmany things he has taxed me justly; and I have pleaded guilty to all thoughts and expressions of mine, which can be truly argued of obscenity, profaneness, or immorality, and retract them. If he be my enemy, let him triumph; if he be my friend, as I have given him no personal occasion to be otherwise, he will be glad of my repentance. It becomes me not to draw my pen in the defence of a bad cause, when I have so often drawn it for a good one."Preface to the Fables.

This candid avowal, and the coincidence of their political sentiments, (for Collier was a rigid Non-juror,) did not save Dryden from some oblique thrusts in an Answer published by Collier to the Vindications of Congreve and Vanburgh, who, less patient or prudent than our poet, had stepped forward to assert the correctness of their dramatic writings. These passages in the "Defence of the Short View," which was published in 1699, seem to have incited our poet to put himself upon his defence, or at least to offer the best apology he could, by throwing upon the gay court of Charles the scandal of importing the open profligacy, which the poet insists had corrupted the stage, instead of being derived from thence. Lord Lansdowne, in a prologue to the "Jew of Venice," when revived, took the freedom to dissent from Dryden and Collier; and, by exculpating both the theatre and court, to throw the whole blame upon the public at large:

Each in his turn, the poet and the priest,Have viewed the stage, but like false prophets guessedThe man of zeal, in his religious rage,Would silence poets and reduce the stage;The poet, rashly to get clear, retortsOn kings the scandal, and bespatters courts.Both err: for, without mincing, to be plain,The guilt's your own of every odious scene;The present time still gives the stage its mode;The vices, that you practise, we explode.We hold the glass, and but reflect your shame,Like Spartans, by exposing to reclaim.The scribbler, pinched with hunger, writes to dine,And to your genius must conform his line;Not lewd by choice, but merely to submit:Would you encourage sense, sense would be writ.

Each in his turn, the poet and the priest,

Have viewed the stage, but like false prophets guessed

The man of zeal, in his religious rage,

Would silence poets and reduce the stage;

The poet, rashly to get clear, retorts

On kings the scandal, and bespatters courts.

Both err: for, without mincing, to be plain,

The guilt's your own of every odious scene;

The present time still gives the stage its mode;

The vices, that you practise, we explode.

We hold the glass, and but reflect your shame,

Like Spartans, by exposing to reclaim.

The scribbler, pinched with hunger, writes to dine,

And to your genius must conform his line;

Not lewd by choice, but merely to submit:

Would you encourage sense, sense would be writ.

There is, in every case of this kind, much partial accusation. The court, stage, and public at large, have a mutual action and re-action on the manners of each other. If the habits of a court be licentious, the poet will hardly venture to paint them noble and innocent; but it will depend upon the extent which that licence has attained amongst his audience at large, whether he represents the courtly vices in gay, or in disgusting and odiouscolours. In any case, the dramatist, who degrades himself by indecency, has little personal apology; for, if he has condescended to blot his pages with filth, it avails but little where he has gathered it.

Collier's attack on the stage was attended with good consequences, which that active disputant lived to witness: indecencies were no longer either fashionable or tolerated; and, by degrees, the ladies began to fill the boxes at a new play, without either the necessity of wearing masks, or the risk of incurring censure. Later times have carried this laudable restraint still farther; till, at last, if we have lost almost all the wit of our predecessors, we at least have retained none of their licentiousness.

The following verses appear upon Dryden's death, in the "State Poems," vol. iii. founded upon his controversy with Sir Richard Blackmore and Collier, which so immediately preceded that event:

John Dryden enemies had three,Sir Dick, old Nick, and Jeremy:The doughty knight was forced to yield,The other two have kept the field;But had his life been something holier,He'd foiled the Devil and the Collier.

John Dryden enemies had three,

Sir Dick, old Nick, and Jeremy:

The doughty knight was forced to yield,

The other two have kept the field;

But had his life been something holier,

He'd foiled the Devil and the Collier.

Perhaps the parson stretched a point too far,When with our theatres he waged a war.He tells you, that this very moral ageReceived the first infection from the stage;But sure, a banished court, with lewdness fraught,The seeds of open vice, returning, brought.Thus lodged, (as vice by great example thrives,)It first debauched the daughters and the wives.London, a fruitful soil, yet never boreSo plentiful a crop of horns before.The poets, who must live by courts, or starve,Were proud, so good a government to serve;And, mixing with buffoons and pimps prophane,Tainted the stage for some small snip of gain:For they, like harlots, under bawds profest,Took all the ungodly pains, and got the least.Thus did the thriving malady prevail;The court its head, the poets but the tail.The sin was of our native growth, 'tis true;The scandal of the sin was wholly new.Misses there were, but modestly concealed;Whitehall the naked Venus first revealed,Who standing as at Cyprus in her shrine,The strumpet was adored with rites divine.Ere this, if saints had any secret motion,'Twas chamber-practice all, and close devotion.I pass the peccadillos of their time;Nothing but open lewdness was a crime.A monarch's blood was venial to the nation,Compared with one foul act of fornication[77].Now, they would silence us, and shut the doorThat let in all the bare-faced vice before.}{As for reforming us, which some pretend,{That work in England is without an end;{Well may we change, but we shall never mend.Yet, if you can but bear the present stage,We hope much better of the coming age.}{What would you say, if we should first begin{To stop the trade of love behind the scene,{Where actresses make bold with married men?For while abroad so prodigal the dolt is,Poor spouse at home as ragged as a colt is.In short, we'll grow as moral as we can,Save, here and there, a woman or a man;But neither you, nor we, with all our pains,Can make clean work; there will be some remains,While you have still your Oates[78]and we our Haines[79].

Perhaps the parson stretched a point too far,

When with our theatres he waged a war.

He tells you, that this very moral age

Received the first infection from the stage;

But sure, a banished court, with lewdness fraught,

The seeds of open vice, returning, brought.

Thus lodged, (as vice by great example thrives,)

It first debauched the daughters and the wives.

London, a fruitful soil, yet never bore

So plentiful a crop of horns before.

The poets, who must live by courts, or starve,

Were proud, so good a government to serve;

And, mixing with buffoons and pimps prophane,

Tainted the stage for some small snip of gain:

For they, like harlots, under bawds profest,

Took all the ungodly pains, and got the least.

Thus did the thriving malady prevail;

The court its head, the poets but the tail.

The sin was of our native growth, 'tis true;

The scandal of the sin was wholly new.

Misses there were, but modestly concealed;

Whitehall the naked Venus first revealed,

Who standing as at Cyprus in her shrine,

The strumpet was adored with rites divine.

Ere this, if saints had any secret motion,

'Twas chamber-practice all, and close devotion.

I pass the peccadillos of their time;

Nothing but open lewdness was a crime.

A monarch's blood was venial to the nation,

Compared with one foul act of fornication[77].

Now, they would silence us, and shut the door

That let in all the bare-faced vice before.

}

{As for reforming us, which some pretend,

{That work in England is without an end;

{Well may we change, but we shall never mend.

Yet, if you can but bear the present stage,

We hope much better of the coming age.

}

{What would you say, if we should first begin

{To stop the trade of love behind the scene,

{Where actresses make bold with married men?

For while abroad so prodigal the dolt is,

Poor spouse at home as ragged as a colt is.

In short, we'll grow as moral as we can,

Save, here and there, a woman or a man;

But neither you, nor we, with all our pains,

Can make clean work; there will be some remains,

While you have still your Oates[78]and we our Haines[79].

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