Dido and Æneas was not printed until 1840, and even then it was but an imperfect version of the opera that was given to the world. Since 1895—the bi-centenary of the composer's death—the Purcell Society has been issuing a complete edition of the works of the "English Orpheus," and Dido and Æneas has now at last come into its right. During Purcell's lifetime opera was not held in high favour in this country, a fact which is significantly proved by the circumstance that Dido and Æneas had no successor. In the Gentleman's Journal for January, 1691-92, we find this quaint statement: "Experience hath taught us that our English genius will not rellish this perpetuall singing." Henceforward our first opera composer confined himself to incidental music introduced into spoken drama. A poor perversion of The Tempest, by Shadwell, was honoured far too highly by being set to music by him, and only those parts of the music which were associated with Shakespeare's words, such as, "Come unto these yellow sands," and "Full fathom five," have survived.
An adaptation of Beaumont and Fletcher's Dioclesian has fared no better, but it attained the honour of print during its composer's lifetime. It was dedicated to the Duke of Somerset, and was accompanied by an address to his Grace containing the following passage, which is of interest to us to-day, as showing the respective positions of the sister arts at the close of the 17th century.
"Music and Poetry have ever been acknowledged Sisters, which, walking hand in hand, support each other; As Poetry is the harmony of Words, so Musick is that of Notes; and, as Poetry is a Rise above Prose and Oratory, so is Musick the exaltation of Poetry. Both of them may excel apart, but sure they are most excellent when they are joyn'd, because nothing is then wanting to either of their Perfections: for thus they appear like Wit and Beauty in the same Person. Poetry and Painting have arriv'd to their perfection in our own Country. Musick is yet but in its Nonage, a forward Child which gives hope of what it may be hereafter in England when the Masters of it shall find more Encouragement. 'Tis now learning Italian, which is its best Master, and studying a little of the French Air, to give it somewhat more of Gayety and Fashion."
Dioclesian, backed by the Duke of Somerset, was successful. It was performed in 1690, and was said to have "gratify'd the expectation of Court and City, and got the author great reputation."
In the following year Purcell wrote the music to King Arthur, the work which, next to Dido and Æneas, holds the highest rank amongst his secular compositions. The drama had been written by Dryden, but the entire plot had to be so changed, owing to the altered political situation, that the poet, in his preface, after lamenting the destruction of his verse, goes on to say—
"There is nothing better than what I intended than the Musick; which has since arriv'd to a greater perfection in England than ever formerly; especially passing through the artful hands of Mr. Purcell, who has compos'd it with so great a genius, that he has nothing to fear but an ignorant, ill-judging audience."
The immediate success of King Arthur seems to have been great, though it did not long hold the stage. The time for works of this kind was not yet come; in 1770 it was revived at Drury Lane, with a considerable access of popularity. Since that time it has been heard at tolerably frequent intervals, and a masterly performance was given under the direction of Dr. Hans Richter at the Birmingham Festival in October, 1897.
Though Purcell's life only extended over thirty-seven years, he had the composition of odes, on various occasions, for no less than three English sovereigns. In addition to his numerous contributions in honour of Charles II., some of which have been noted here, he wrote for the coronation of James II. the two splendid anthems, "I was glad," and "My Heart is inditing." He also wrote for James an ode beginning, "Why are all the muses mute?" There seems to be something of irony in the fact that he should likewise have been the author of a melody which, according to contemporary writers, did more than anything else to "chase James II. from his three kingdoms," but though Purcell certainly wrote the music ultimately sung to Lilliburlero, it is no less true that he had no knowledge of the use to which his melody would be put. Amongst his minor compositions of this time were a march and a quickstep, and the Irish Viceroy, Lord Wharton, was discriminating enough to recognise that the tune of the latter, wedded to words by himself, in which the king and the Papists were held up to derision, would have an extraordinary effect upon the masses of the people. The event proved that he was right. According to Bishop Burnet, "the impression made on the army was one that cannot be imagined by one that saw it not. The whole army, and at last the people, both in city and country, were singing it perpetually, and perhaps never had so slight a thing so great an effect."
The tune is a bright, gay one, and is now put to a harmless use by being sung to the nursery rhyme—
"There was an old woman went up in a blanket,
Seventeen times as high as the moon."