"She only whisper'd to me, as she promised,
Yet never heard I any voice so loud:
And though the words were gentler far than those
That holy priests do speak to dying saints,
Yet never thunder signified so much."
The songs in this piece are all by Shadwell, except, as he declares,
the last but one, which is Fountain's, and the only one not below
mediocrity. Shadwell had also the impudence to alter and corrupt
"Timon of Athens," and to produce the farrago on the stage as an
improvement on the original. In the dedication he says, "It has the
inimitable hand of Shakspeare in it; yet I can truly say, I have made
it into a play." This "tun of man and kilderkin of wit" was admitted
to a tomb in Westminster Abbey, an honour (?) said to have been denied
to the remains of a noble poet, the author of "Don Juan." Yet Shadwell
had also produced a "Don Juan." His tragedy of "The Libertine," the
same hero, is ten times more indecent than the most objectionable
parts of Byron's poem. But it is, indeed, also less noxious, for it
has not a single attractive grace of fancy or feeling. A print of
Shadwell, prefixed to Tonson's edition of his works, ludicrously bears
out Dryden's description of the outer man. He looks like an alehouse
Bacchus, or rather like one of those carnal cherubs whom the French
call _anges bouffis_--his cheeks bulging out as if they were stuffed
with apples from the forbidden tree. He died in December 1692, and was
succeeded by
Nahum Tate, the psalmodist. Every one knows what sort of poet he was,
and how the harp of Israel is but a Jew's harp in the hands of Tate
and Brady. Yet some passages in his second part of "Absolom and
Achitophel" are not such feeble mimicries of the tone of his friend,
Dryden, as might have been expected from so poor a performer. The
praise of Asaph, glorious John himself, is pleasing. It concludes with
these lines:--
"While bees in flowers rejoice, and flowers in dew,
While stars and fountains to their course are true,
While Judah's throne and Sion's rock stand fast,
The song of Asaph, and the fame, shall last."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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