We ought not to omit a cirrumstance much in favour of Sir William Davenant, which proves him to have been as good a man as a poet. When at the Restoration, those who had been active in disturbing the late reign, and secluding their sovereign from the throne, became obnoxious to the royal party, Milton was likely to feel the vengeance of the court, Davenant actuated by a noble principle of gratitude, interposed all his influence, and saved the greatest ornament of the world from the stroke of an executioner. Ten years before that, Davenant had been rescued by Milton, and he remembered the favour; an instance, this, that generosity, gratitude, and nobleness of nature is confined to no particular party; but the heart of a good man will still discover itself in acts of munificence and kindness, however [82] mistaken he may be in his opinion, however warm in state factions. The particulars of this extraordinary affair are related in the life of Milton.
Sir William Davenant continued at the head of his company of actors, and at last transferred them to a new and magnificent theatre built in Dorset-Gardens, where some of his old plays were revived with very singular circumstances of royal kindness, and a new one when brought upon the stage met with great applause.
The last labour of his pen was in altering a play of Shakespear's, called the Tempest, so as to render it agreeable to that age, or rather susceptible of those theatrical improvements he had brought into fashion. The great successor to his laurel, in a preface to this play, in which he was concerned with Davenant, 'says, that he was a man of quick and piercing imagination, and soon found that somewhat might be added to the design of Shakespear, of which neither Fletcher nor Suckling had ever thought; and therefore to put the last hand to it, he designed the counterpart to Shakespear's plot, namely, that of a man who had never seen a woman, that by this means, these two characters of innocence and love might the more illustrate and commend each other. This excellent contrivance he was pleased to communicate to me, and to defire my assistance in it. I confess that from the first moment it so pleased me, that I never wrote any thing with so much delight. I might likewise do him that justice to acknowledge that my writing received daily amendments, and that is the reason why it is not so faulty, as the rest that I have done, without the help or correction of so judicious a friend. The comical parts of the sailors were [83] also of his invention and Writing, as may easily be discovered from the stile.'
This great man died at his house in little Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, April 17, 1668, aged 63, and two days afterwards was interred in Westminster-Abbey. On his gravestone is inscribed, in imitation of Ben Johnson's short epitaph,
O Rare Sir William Davenant!
It may not be amiss to observe, that his remains rest very near the place out of which those of Mr. Thomas May, who had been formerly his rival for the bays, and the Parliament's historian, were removed, by order of the ministry. As to the family our author left behind him, some account of it will be given in the life of his son Dr. Charles Davenant, who succeeded him as manager of the theatre. Sir William's works entire were published by his widow 1673, and dedicated to James Duke of York.
After many storms of adversity, our author spent the evening of his days in ease and serenity. He had the happiness of being loved by people of all denominations, and died lamented by every worthy good man. As a poet, unnumbered evidences may be produced in his favour. Amongst these Mr. Dryden is the foremost, for when his testimony can be given in support of poetical merit, we reckon all other evidence superfluous, and without his, all other evidences deficient. In his words then we shall sum up Davenant's character as a poet, and a man of genius.
'I found him, (says he) in his preface to the Tempest, of so quick a fancy, that nothing was proposed to him on which he could not quickly produce a thought extreamly pleasant and surprizing, and these first thoughts of his, contrary [84] to the old Latin proverb, were not always the least happy, and as his fancy was quick, so likewise were the products of it remote and new. He borrowed not of any other, and his imaginations were such as could not easily enter into any other man. His corrections were sober and judicious, and he corrected his own writings much more severely than those of another man, bestowing twice the labour and pain in polishing which he used in invention.'
Before we enumerate the dramatic works of Sir William Davenant, it will be but justice to his merit, to insert some animadversions on his Gondibert; a poem which has been the subject of controversy almost a hundred years; that is, from its first appearance to the present time. Perhaps the dispute had been long ago decided, if the author's leisure had permitted him to finish it. At present we see it to great disadvantage; and if notwithstanding this it has any beauties, we may fairly conclude it would have come much nearer perfection, if the story, begun with so much spirit, had been brought to an end upon the author's plan.
Mr. Hobbes, the famous philosopher of Malmsbury, in a letter printed in his works, affirms, 'that he never yet saw a poem that had so much shape of art, health of morality and vigour, and beauty of expression, as this of our author; and in an epistle to the honourable Edward Howard, author of the British Princes, he thus speaks. My judgment in poetry has been once already censured by very good wits for commending Gondibert; but yet have they not disabled my testimony. For what authority is there in wit? a jester may have it; a man in drink may have it, and be fluent over night, and wise and dry in the morning: What is it? and who can tell whether it be better to have [85] it or no? I will take the liberty to praise what I like as well as they, and reprehend what they like.'—Mr. Rymer in his preface to his translation of Rapin's Reflexions on Aristotle's Treatise of Poetry, observes, that our author's wit is well known, and in the preface to that poem, there appears some strokes of an extraordinary judgment; that he is for unbeaten tracts, and new ways of thinking, but certainly in the untried seas he is no great discoverer. One design of the Epic poets before him was to adorn their own country, there finding their heroes and patterns of virtue, where example, as they thought, would have the greater influence and power over posterity; "but this poet, says Rymer, steers a different course; his heroes are all foreigners; he cultivates a country that is nothing a-kin to him, and Lombardy reaps the honour of all. Other poets chose some action or hero so illustrious, that the name of the poem prepared the reader, and made way for its reception; but in this poem none can divine what great action he intended to celebrate, nor is the reader obliged to know whether the hero be Turk or Christian; nor do the first lines give any light or prospect into the design. Altho' a poet should know all arts and sciences, yet ought he discreetly to manage his knowledge. He must have a judgment to select what is noble and beautiful, and proper for the occasion. He must by a particular chemistry, extract the essence of things; without soiling his wit with dross or trumpery. The sort of verse Davenant makes choice of in his Gondibert might contribute much to the vitiating his stile; for thereby he obliges himself to stretch every period to the end of four lines: Thus the sense is broken perpetually with parentheses, the words jumbled in confusion, [86] and darkness spread over all; but it must be acknowledged, that Davenant had a particular talent for the manners; his thoughts are great, and there appears something roughly noble thro' the whole." This is the substance of Rymer's observations on Gondibert. Rymer was certainly a scholar, and a man of discernment; and tho' in some parts of the criticisms he is undoubtedly right, yet in other parts he is demonstrably wrong. He complains that Davenant has laid the scene of action in Lombardy, which Rymer calls neglecting his own country; but the critic should have considered, that however well it might have pleased the poet's countrymen, yet as an epic poem is supposed to be read in every nation enlightened by science, there can no objections arise from that quarter by any but those who were of the same country with the author. His not making choice of a pompous name, and introducing his poem with an exordium, is rather a beauty than a fault; for by these means he leaves room for surprize, which is the first excellency in any poem, and to strike out beauties where they are not expected, has a happy influence upon the reader. Who would think from Milton's introduction, that so stupendous a work would ensue, and simple dignity is certainly more noble, than all the efforts and colourings which art and labour can bestow.