The Dramatic Works of John Dryden, Volume 1: With a Life of the AuthorScott, Walter
General
The Dramatic Works of John Dryden, Volume 1: With a Life of the Author
Scott, Walter
Dryden, John, 1631-1700
This poor wight had acquired by practice, and perhaps from
nature, more of a poetical ear than most of his contemporaries were
gifted with. His "blundering melody," as Dryden terms it, is far sweeter
to the ear than the flat and ineffectual couplets of Tate; nor are his
verses always destitute of something approaching to poetic fancy and
spirit. He certainly, in his transposition of "Absalom and Achitophel,"
mimicked the harmony of his original with more success than was attained
by Shadwell, Buckingham or Pordage.[25] But in this facility of
versification all his merit began and ended; in our author's phrase,
"Doeg, though without knowing how or why,
Made still a blundering kind of melody;
Spurred boldly on, and dashed though thick and thin,
Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,
And, in one word, heroically mad.
He was too warm on picking-work to dwell,
But faggoted his notions as they fell,
And, if they rhymed and rattled, all was well."
Ere we take leave of Settle, it is impossible to omit mentioning his
lamentable conclusion; a tale often told and moralised upon, and in
truth a piece of very tragical mirth. Elkanah, we have seen, was at this
period a zealous Whig; nay, he was so far in the confidence of
Shaftesbury that, under his direction, and with his materials, he had
been intrusted to compose a noted libel against the Duke of York,
entitled, "The Character of a Popish Successor." Having a genius for
mechanics, he was also exalted to be manager of a procession for burning
the Pope; which the Whigs celebrated with great pomp, as one of many
artifices to inflame the minds of the people.[26] To this, and to the
fireworks which attended its solemnisation, Dryden alludes in the lines
to which Elkanah's subsequent disasters gave an air of prophecy:--
"In fireworks give him leave to vent his spite,
Those are the only servants he can write;
The height of his ambition is, we know,
But to be master of a puppet-show;
On that one stage his works may yet appear,
And a month's harvest keeps him all the year."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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