FOOTNOTES:
[1] In Mr. Saintsbury's admirable monograph on Dryden (English Men of Letters) we have, for the first time, the truth told about the origins of the so-called "heroic" drama in England—a semi-operatic creation of Sir W. Davenant under the Protectorate. But though the rhyme may have come from France, it seems to me that for the rant our Restoration playwrights need not have looked so far as the Scudéry romance, or the Spanish poetry; they had examples nearer home, which is equally true of the "conceits." Dryden is the father of modern prose, and the father of didactic verse, even, one may say, of modern satire also. Now, if a man achieve a reputation for eminence in one department, his eminence in another, however indisputable, is sure to be disputed. It has seemed evident to critics (and consequently to bookmakers) that since he was a critic he could not be a poet. Yet he was certainly both. He is more than what Matthew Arnold names him, a "classic of our prose."
[2] Shall we find such things in the modern creations of Scott, George Sand, Thackeray, Charlotte Brontë (possibly we may in Emily Brontë), Thomas Hardy, or Tolstoi?
[3] Respecting Otway's life, my chief authority is Thornton, who has prefixed the best sketch I know of to the best edition of the poet's works; but I have also consulted other authorities, and read Mr. Gosse's interesting essay in his "Seventeenth Century Studies," &c. Thornton's text has been usually followed in the present volume; with, however, numerous emendations, the result of collation with the early editions.
Tom Otway came next, Tom Shadwell's dear Zany,
And swears for heroics he writes best of any;
Don Carlos his pockets so amply had filled
That his mange was quite cured and his lice were all killed;
But Apollo had seen his face on the stage,
And prudently did not think fit to engage
The scum of a playhouse for the prop of an age.
Wood mentions that it was reported the poet came back from Flanders "mangy, and covered with vermin."
[DON CARLOS, PRINCE OF SPAIN.]
Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.—
Hor., Ep. 17, Lib. I.[5]
Besides the writers mentioned in my Introduction, Campistron, a pupil of Racine, founded a play called Andronic on this same history of Don Carlos. Some Spanish historians, in the interest of Philip, have tried to blacken the character of his son. But the Abbé de San Real (who has been called the French Sallust) seems to have estimated him rightly, while the dramatists have, on the whole, adopted the Frenchman's conception, which was apparently derived from reliable Spanish sources. The motto prefixed from Horace is in allusion to the fact that this play received the approbation of the King and the Duke of York. It had a long success at the theatre, and we may agree with those who called it, as Otway tells us in the preface, the best "heroic" play of the time—containing, as it does, far less of rant and confusion, but more of nature and passion, than the "heroic" plays of Dryden—though Aurungzebe may not be far behind it. Booth, the actor, was informed by Betterton that Don Carlos continued for several years to attract larger audiences than The Orphan or Venice Preserved. It was first represented at the Duke's Theatre in the year 1676, and was published in the same year.
Philip II., son of the Emperor Charles V., became King of Naples and Sicily in 1554 on his father's abdication, and King Consort of England by his marriage with Mary two years after he ascended the Spanish throne. In 1557 he gained the victory of St. Quentin, which might have made him master of France, but he did not follow it up, being, it is said, so elated and yet terrified that he vowed: first, never to engage in another fight, and secondly, to found a monastery in honour of St. Lawrence at Escorial. Later came the great rebellion of the Low Countries, which, in spite of Alva's ability, sanguinary cruelty, and persecutions, resulted in the independence of "the United Provinces," and the triumph of the reformed faith. Philip subdued Portugal, and sent the huge Spanish Armada to conquer England, the illustrious heretic Elizabeth having succeeded to Mary. But the storms and the English together were too much for him. He showed resignation and dignity, however, when the admiral in command announced this misfortune to him. He married Elizabeth of Valois after Mary's death.
It is probable that Don Carlos inherited the personal pride and hauteur of his race, and he is said to have treated Alva with rudeness on a public occasion, only because the Duke was a little late in paying his respects to him. Alva, as a noble, had his share of pride, and being, moreover, malignant, never forgave this.
But the rivalry of these two personages in desiring the government of the revolted Netherlands is a more probable cause of the affront, for it seems to have been just before the Duke proceeded thither as Governor, when he went to take leave of Carlos, that it occurred. Philip had refused the post to his son, and given it to Alva. Carlos is even said by some to have threatened the Duke with his sword; but, if so, it seems likely that something in the words or triumphant demeanour of the latter provoked the hotheaded youth beyond endurance. This spirited and aspiring Prince was evidently far more liberal in religion and politics than his father, a disposition likely to be intensified by the fact that his father persistently kept him in tutelage, and forbade him all participation in the management of public affairs, which he so ardently coveted. That he entered into correspondence with the gallant men striving for liberty of conscience and nationality in the Low Countries seems certain. This was a pretext and motive for his arrest, imprisonment, and murder. But jealous suspicion that the Queen, promised and betrothed by Philip himself to his own son, cared too much for that son, and more than suspicion that Carlos cared too much for her, afforded a motive yet more powerful. Elizabeth of France (daughter of Henry II.) was put to death about the same time, and the Prince of Orange openly accused Philip of these murders, alleging that they were committed in order that he might be free to marry his own niece, Anne of Austria. Carlos is variously reported to have been killed by poison, strangulation, or opening his veins in a bath. Philip died in 1598. His character has been well suggested and outlined in a recent play, Lord Tennyson's "Queen Mary."
To His Royal Highness THE DUKE.[6]
Sir,
'Tis an approved opinion, there is not so unhappy a creature in the world as the man that wants ambition; for certainly he lives to very little use that only toils in the same round, and because he knows where he is, though in a dirty road, dares not venture on a smoother path for fear of being lost. That I am not the wretch I condemn, your Royal Highness may be sufficiently convinced, in that I durst presume to put this poem under your patronage. My motives to it were not ordinary: for besides my own propensity to take an opportunity of publishing the extreme devotion I owe your Royal Highness, the mighty encouragement I received from your approbation of it when presented on the stage was hint enough to let me know at whose feet it ought to be laid. Yet, whilst I do this, I am sensible the curious world will expect some panegyric on those heroic virtues which are throughout it so much admired. But, as they are a theme too great for my undertaking, so only to endeavour at the truth of them must, in the distance between my obscurity and their height, savour of a flattery, which in your Royal Highness's esteem I would not be thought guilty of; though in that part of them which relates to myself (viz., your favours showered on a thing so mean as I am) I know not how to be silent. For you were not only so indulgent as to bestow your praise on this, but even (beyond my hopes) to declare in favour of my first essay of this nature, and add yet the encouragement of your commands to go forward, when I had the honour to kiss your Royal Highness's hand, in token of your permission to make a dedication to you of the second. I must confess, and boast I am very proud of it; and it were enough to make me more, were I not sensible how far I am undeserving. Yet when I consider you never give your favours precipitately, but that it is a certain sign of some desert when you vouchsafe to promote, I, who have terminated my best hopes in it, should do wrong to your goodness, should I not let the world know my mind, as well as my condition, is raised by it. I am certain none that know your Royal Highness will disapprove my aspiring to the service of so great and so good a master; one who (as is apparent to all those who have the honour to be near you and know you by that title) never raised without merit, or discountenanced without justice. It is that, indeed, obliging severity which has in all men created an awful love and respect towards you; since in the firmness of your resolution the brave and good man is sure of you, whilst the ill-minded and malignant fears you. This I could not pass over; and I hope your Royal Highness will pardon it, since it is unaffectedly my zeal to you, who am in nothing so unfortunate, as that I have not a better opportunity to let you and the world know how much I am,
Your Royal Highness's
Most humble, most faithful, and most obedient Servant,
THO. OTWAY.
