John Dryden (1631-1700)

Dryden’s poetry sits uncomfortably between the ease of the Renaissance and the familiarity of the Romantics. Like Pope he was a superb poet, a master of the heroic couplet, like Pope and Swift a master of the devestating put down, and like Pope brevity was not his strong point.

But here he is laying into Thomas Shadwell, crowning him the King of Dullness. You have to go along for the ride. Some of the names will be unfamilair, some of the references will be lost, but the overall drive of the satire should be obvious adn enjoyable.

It’s a long piece to read. And though I’ve tried to do it justice I’m not sure I have. The best Dryden I’ve heard is in the film ‘England My England’ where whoever plays him does a superb job of reading the poems.

There is also a minor technical problem. All the versions of the Poem I have seen name Dryden’s victim Sh-. I tried reading it like this but it didn’t work so Shadwell is named.

This is taken from ‘Selected Poetry and Prose of John Dryden’ edited by Earl Milner.