LESSON 1

This watermark does not appear in the registered version - http://www.clicktoconvert.com 

Contents 

1.0 Aims and Objectives 

1.1 Introduction 

1.2 Chaucer’s life 

1.3 His works 

LESSON 1 

GEOFFREY CHAUCER 

THE PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY TALES 

1.4 Translation of the prologue to the Canterbury 

1.5 English social life as reflected in the prologue 

1.6 style and technique in Chaucer’s prologue to the Canterbury tales 

1.7 Let Us Sum Up 

1.8 lessons – end activities 

1.9 References 

1.0 AIMS AND OBJECTIVES 

detail 

The present lesson presents the following aspects of Geoffrey Chaucer in 

1) Chaucer’s life 

2) His works 

3) Translation of the prologue to the Canterbury. 

After reading this lesson you can understand the English social life as reflected in the 

prologue, style and technique in Chaucer’s prologue. 

1



The Age of Chaucer is one of the most active, complicated, vexed and entangled 

transitional periods in the history of England. This age was a meeting ground of the 

two divergent and incongruous periods—the old and the new, the Medieval and the 

Renaissance. The leaven of the Renaissance or the modern spirit was discernible on 

the horizon but the Medieval Age by no means had completely passed away. The 

Medieval and the Renaissance stood side by side. The distinctive feature of the 

Medieval mind is its belief in spirituality and abstract ideas, whereas the Reniassance 

lays emphasis on the sensuous and the concrete. In the attitude towards society the 

Medieval mind supports communism ; the Renaissance advocates individualism. The 

Medieval mind does not tolerate free thought, speculation and reason. "The right of 

private judgment, which lies at the very foundation of Protestantism is nothing but a 

corollary of the individualism of the Renaissance." (R. K. Root) 

1.2 CHAUCER'S LIFE 

Geoffrey Chaucer — the Father of English poetry and who is so much the 

greatest figure in the English literature of the fourteenth century that he has thrown all 

his contemporaries completely into the shade, was born about 1340 in London. His father 

did a flourishing business as a merchant vintner. 

No information is available about his childhood. But it is evident from the wide 

and varied scholarship which characterises his writings that he must have enjoyed the 

advantages of the liberal education. 

At seventeen he received a court appointment as page to the wife of the Duke of 

Clarence, Edward Ill's third son. In 1359 he was with the English army in France, 

where he was taken prisoner; but he was soon ransomed, and returned to England. 

Some time after this he married, and became valet of the king's chamber. From 

that time onward he was for many years closely connected with the court. He was often 

entrusted with diplomatic missions on the continent, two of them being to Italy. He was 

thus brought into direct touch with Italian culture in the days of the early Renaissance and 

may even have met Petrarch and Boccaccio, to the former of whom he makes pointed 

2


reference in the prologue to the 'Clerkes Tale'. During these years he received many 

marks of royal favour, and for a time, sat in Parliament as knight of the shire of Kent. 

But after the overthrow of the Lancastrian party and the banishment of his special 

patron, John of Gaunt, he fell on evil days and with approaching age felt the actual 

pinch of poverty. 

Fortunately, on the accession of John of Gaunt's son, Henry IV, things mended 

with him, and the grant of a royal pension at once placed him beyond want and anxiety. 

At Christmas, 1399, he took a long lease of a house at Westminster, which 

suggests that he still looked forward to many years of life. But he died before the next 

year was out, and was buried in that part of Westminster Abbey which afterwards came to 

be known as the Poets' Corner. 

In studying Chaucer's work it is important to remember that his education as a 

poet was two-fold. Part of it came from literature; but part of it came from life. He 

was a thorough student, and in one of his autobiographical passages (in The House of 

Fame) he tells us how after a long day over his accounts, he would go home at night 

and there pore over his beloved volumes till he was completely dazed. But he was not a 

mere bookman, nor was he in the least a visionary. 

Like Shakespeare and Milton he was, on the contrary, a man of the world and of 

affairs. He had travelled much; he had seen life; his business at home and abroad brought 

him into intimate relations with people of all sorts; and with his quick insight into character 

and his keen eye for everything dramatic and picturesque and humorous, he was precisely 

the king of poet to profit by such varied experiences. There is much that is purely bookish 

in his writings; but in the best of them we are always aware that he is not merely 

drawing upon what he has read, but that his genius is being fed by his wide and deep 

knowledge of life itself. 

1.3 HIS WORKS : 

It is usual and convenient to divide Chaucer's literary career into three periods, 

which are called his French, his Italian and his English period, respectively. His genius 

was nourished, to begin with, on the French poetry and romance which formed the 

3


favourite reading of the court and cultivated society during the time of his youth. 

Naturally he followed the fashion, and his early work was done on French models. 

Thus, besides translating portions at least of the then popular Roman de la Rose, he 

wrote, among other quite imitative things, an allegory on the death of Blanche, John of 

Gaunt's wife, which he called 'The Boke of the Duchesse' (1369), and which is wholly in 

the manner of the reigning French school. 

Then, almost certainly as a direct result of his visits to Italy French influences 

disappear, and Italian influences take their place. 

In this second period (1370-84), Chaucer is the disciple of the great Italian 

masters, for 'The House of Fame' clearly owes much to Dante while 'Troylus and 

Cryseyde', by far his longest single poem, is based upon, and in part translated from, 

Boccaccio's 'Filostrato'. 

be referred. 

To the close of this period the unfinished 'Legende of Good Women' may also 

Finally, he ceases to be Italian as he had ceased to be French, and becomes 

English. This does not mean that he no longer draws freely upon French and Italian 

material. He continues to do this to the end. It simply means that, instead of being 

merely imitative, he becomes independent, relying upon himself entirely even for the 

use to which he puts his borrowed themes. 

To this last period belong, together with sundry minor poems, the 'Canterbury 

Tales', in which we have Chaucer's most famous and most characteristic work. 

1.4 TRANSLATION OF THE PROLOGUE TO THE CANTERBURY: 

When the sweet showers of April have pierced the dry soil of March down to 

the roots, and bathed every vein in moisture so that from its vital power the flowers 

are born. When the West wind has also breathed upon the tender shoots in every glade 

and field with its sweet breath or the spring sun has completed half of its course 

through the sign of the Rain and little birds that sleep all night with eyes open (for the 

dawn) make their music because their hearts are so thrilled by nature - then people 

become anxious to go on pilgrimage and palmers to seek strange shores (visiting the 

shrines) of distant saints famous in many lands and above all from the ends of every 

4


county in England, they proceed to Canterburry to seek the holy blessed martyr (St. 

Thomas) who has helped them when they were sick. 

One day in that season, as I stayed at the Tabard Inn in Southwak ready to go 

with devout heart on my pilgrimage to Canterburry, there happened to come to the inn 

in the evening as many as twenty nine in a party, a mixed company whom chance had 

brought together and they were all pilgrims who planned to ride to Canterbury. Rooms 

and stable were ample and we were entertained comfortably in the best manner. And 

to be brief, by sunset I had spoken with everyone of them so that from thereon I 

became one of their party and we agreed to rise early to start our journey to 

Canterbury, as I describe it to you. 

But nevertheless, while I still have the time and space (and) before I continue 

this tale, I think it is reasonable to tell you all of the condition of each of them as it 

appeared to me and who they were and of what station and also the manner in which 

they were dressed; and I will begin with a Knight. 

THE KNIGHT (Lines 43 - 78) 

There was a Knight who was an honourable man. From the time that he had first 

begun to go on compaigns he had loved chivalry, truth, honour, generosity and courtesy. He 

had been very brave in the war of his feudal superior ; Moreover while no man had ridden 

further than he in Christendom and heathen countries and he had always been acclaimed for his 

bravery. He had been at Alexandria when it was captured. On many occasions he had sat at 

the head of the table as the most honoured guest in company with the Teutonic Knights. In 

Lithuania and Russia had no Christian man of his rank so often gone on military expedition. In 

Granada he had been present at the siege of Algeeria and had ridden in Benmarin. He was present'at 

Layas and Attaila when they were captured and in the Medittareanean he had been a member 

of many noble expeditions./ He had partaken in fifteen mortal battles and had fought for our faith 

at Tremsen in three tournaments, always killing his foe. This same brave Knight had also at 

one time been with the Lord of Palathia against another heathen in Turkey, since which he had a 

great reputation. And although he was brave, he was also wise, and his bearing was as meek as a 

girl's. 

5


He had never spoken in a manner unworthy of a gentleman to any sort of 1 person in all 

his life. He was a true perfect and noble Knight. But now to tell you of his attire, his horses 

were good but he was not gaudily dressed. He wore a gypon (a short vest-like coat worn 

under armour) of stout cotton cloth, which was soiled with his coat of mail, for he had recently 

returned from his expedition, and was on his way to do his pilgrimage. 

THE YOUNG SQUIRE (Lines 79-100) 

With him there was his son, a young squire - a lover and a gay'probationer 

with hair curled as if it had been laid in a press. I think he was twenty years old. He 

was of moderate height and very active and very strong and once only he had been on 

a military expedition in Flanders, Artois and Picardy, where he had distinguished 

himself, considering his lack of opportunity, as he wished to stand in his lady's favour. 

His coat was embroidered all full of fresh white and red flowers, like a meadow. He 

sang and played the flute all day and was as fresh as the month of May. His gown was 

short, with long wide sleeves. He knew how to sit his horse well and how to ride 

excellently. He could compose songs and verses, joust, draw well, write and also 

dance. He was so passionate that at night time he slept no more than a nightingale 

does. He was courteous, modest and ready to serve and carved for his father at table. 

THE YEOMAN (lines 101 - 117) 

With him was a Yeoman but no other servant, for it was his pleasure' to ride in 

that manner. The Yeoman wore a coat and hood of green and very carefully carried a 

sheaf of shiny sharp arrows fitted with peacock feathers under his pouch. In true 

Yeoman fashion he took great care over his equipment and his arrows never fell short 

because of faulty feathers. He carried a long bow in his hand, his head was closely 

shaven and his face was brown. He knew all the techniques of carpentry and carried a 

fine guard on his arm, a sword and shield on one side, and a finely decorated spear- 

shaped dagger on the other side. He wore a shining silver picture of St. Christopher on 

his breast. He also carried a horn which had a green baldric. 1 feel certain that he was 

a true Woodsman. 

THE PRIORESS (lines 118-164) 

6


There was also a Nun, a Prioress, who smiled very naturally and coyly. The 

strongest oath was shown only by St. Loy and she was called Madame Eglentyne. She 

sang the divine service fluently, nasalizing her singing in a fitting manner and she 

spoke French very well and elegantly, according to the school of Stratford-by-Bow, 

because she was not familiar with Parisian French, Moreover she had been taught well 

how to behave at table. She allowed no morsel to fall from her lips nor wet her tongue 

deeply in the gravy. She could pick up and keep a morsel well so that no food dropped 

nor fell upon her breast. 2' 

She set great store by good manners. She wiped her mouth so clean that no small particle 

of grease was to be seen in her cup. When she had finished her drink she reached out very 

daintily for her food and she certainly was very mirthful while her behaviour was very 

pleasant and amiable. She took pains to imitate court manners and to be of stately 

deportment so as to be regarded worthy of reverence. But now to mention her 

sensitiveness, she was so charitable and so merciful that she would weep if she saw a dead or 

bleeding mouse caught in a trap. She had some small dogs which she fed on raost-meat or 

milk and bread made of fine white flour. But she would weep piteously if one of them died or 

if somebody hit one sharply with a stick and she was all sensibility and tenderness of heart. Her 

wimple was attractively pleated ; her nose was long and well formed, her eyes were as grey as 

glass ; her mouth was very small and in addition soft and red but certainly she had a noble 

forehead. I believe it was almost a span broad ; certainly she was not below average height. I 

was aware that her cloak was very neat around her arm, she wore a small rosary made with 

coral gauded with green beads and on it hung a beautiful gold broach on which was written 

first a capital " A " and after ' Love conquers all things'. Riding with her were another Nun 

who served as her assistant and three priests, 

THE MONK (lines 165 - 207) 

There was a Monk, a good one above all others, who had been appointed to visit the 

various properties owned by the monastery and who loved hunting. He was an upright person 

and well fitted to be an abbot. He had many valuable horses in his stable and when he rode one 

could hear his bridle clearly jingling in a whistling wind as the loud as the chapel bell of the small 

monastery where this lord was head. Because the rule of St. Maurers or of St. Benedict was old 

and some-what strict, this same Monk ignored the seold things and held his course in conformity 

with the new order of things. The Monk did not care for the value of a hen that had lost its 

7


feathers for the text that says that hunters are not holy men, and that a monk out of the cloister is 

as a fish out of the water. But that same text he regarded as not worth an oyster and I said he had 

good opinions. Why should he study and make himself mad by studying a book in the cloister, or 

work and labour with his hands as Augustine bids? How will this benefit the world? Let 

Augustine have his work reserved for himself. Thus he was a hard rider in the hunt all right, 

and he had grey hounds who were as swift as birds on the wing, tracking and hunting the hare 

by its footmarks was his only pleasure, for which he would spare no cost. I saw that his 

sleeves were fringed at the wrist with expensive grey fur the finest in the land for fastening 

his hood under his chin he had a curiously shaped brooch wrought in gold, while there was a 

love knot in the bigger end. This bald head and his face shone like glass as if he had been 

anointed. He was a very fat lord and in good condition. His eyes were bright and rolled in 

his head, which shone like a cauldron furnace. His boots were supple and his horses in fine 

condition; without a doubt he was a good prelate, He was not pale like a tormented and 

wasted ghost and his favourite roast was a fat swan. His palfrey was as brown as a berry. 

THE FRANKLIN (lines 331 – 360) 

His companion (i.e. the Sergeant) was a Franklin, with a beard as white as a 

daisy; he was of sanguine temperament, and liked to have wine, with pieces of bread 

or cake dipped into it, in the morning. His desire was always to live in pleasure for he 

was a true son of Epicurus, who held the opinion that great pleasure was in reality 

perfect happiness. He was a great householder, being a veritable St. Julian in his 

district and his bread cellar was known nowhere else. His house was never without 

pies of fish and meat and those in such plenty that in house it snowed food and drink 

and all the delicacies that one could think of; he varied his food or supper according to 

the seasons of the year. He had very many fat partridges in a coop and great numbers 

of beams and pikes in his fish pond. Woe betide his cook if his sauce was not 

pungent and sharp and with food all the day long. At county meetings of the Assizes 

he was representative and Chairman, and on many occasions, he had been Knight of 

the Shire. A dagger and a hawking pouch hung at his girdle, which was as white as 

morning milk. He had been a Sheriff and a legal auditor; nowhere was there such a 

distinguished landowner. 

THE FIVE GILDSMEN AND THEIR COOK (lines 361 – 387) 

8


There were also a Haberdasher, a Carpenter, a cloth weaver, a Dyer and an 

upholsterer and they were all dressed in the livery uniforms of a powerful and 

important craft guild. Their apparel was fresh and newly trimmed, while their knives 

were not fashioned from brass but had sheaths with silver caps, and their belts and 

purses were beautifully wrought after the same manner. Each one of them seemed a 

burgess worthy to sit on the dais in a gild hall. Their knowledge, wealth, and income 

would have justified their position had they been elected as aldermen. Their wives 

would have surely been at fault not to have consented to do this – for it is pleasant to 

be called ‘Madam’ and good to lead this procession into church and have one’s 

mantle carried in royal fashion. 

For this occasion they had brought a cook with them, to boil chickens with 

marrow-bones, sharp flavoured powder and galingale spice. He could recognize the 

flavour of London ale, and could roast, steam, boil and fry, make stew and bake a pie 

well. But I felt it was a great pity that he had gangrene on his skin. His masterpiece 

was minced chicken in white sauce. 

THE SHIPMAN (lines 388 – 411) 

There was a shipman who lived far away to the west country for ought I know, 

he came from Dartmouth. He rode upon a farm – nag as well as he could, in a gown 

of course woollen cloth, (stretching) to the knee. He had a dagger hanging on a cord 

about his neck which passed down under his arm. The hot summer sun had made his 

complexion quite brown, and undoubtedly he was a rascal. He had stolen very many 

mouthfuls of wine on the journey home from Bordeaux while the merchant slept. He 

was not troubled by a scrupulous conscience for if he fought and gained the upper 

hand, he threw his prisoners into the sea; with regard to his profession there was no 

one from Hull to Carthagena as good as (he) at calculating the tides, the currents and 

the dangers that beset him, the harbours and (the phases of) the moon and the art of 

piloting a ship. He was bold and prudent in his undertaking and his beard had been 

shaken by many a tempest. He knew well the havens as they lay from Gottland to 

9


Cape Finisterre, and every creek in Brittany and in Spain. His vessel was named the 

Magdalene. 

THE DOCTOR OF PHYSIC (lines 412 – 414) 

With us there was a doctor of medicine; there was no one like him in all the 

world in the sphere of medicine and surgery, for he was well versed in astrology; he 

took very great care of his patients at the critical hours by means of astrology. He was 

skilful in choosing a favourite time for making astrological figures for his patients 

when the influence of the planets would make these most effective. He knew the 

cause fo every disease; whether it came from excess of hot, cold, moist or dry and 

where they had originated and in what ‘humour’ : he was a very perfect practitioner. 

Once the cause and origin of the malady was known, he at once gave the sick man his 

remedy. He had his chemists always prepared to send him drugs and medicinal 

powders, as each of them brought profit to the other; their friendship was no new 

thing. He was familiar with the old Aesculapius, with Dioscorides, and also Rufus. 

Old Hippocrates, Hali and Galen, Serapion, Rhazes and Avicenna, Avenoes, John of 

Damascus, Constantine, Bernard, Gaddesden and Gilbertine. In his diet he was 

temperate, as it was very nourishing and easily digestible and contained no excesses. 

He very seldom studied the Bible. He was dressed in red and blue-grey lined with 

taffeta, and thin silk and yet his expenditure was moderate; he saved what he earned 

during times of plague. Since Gold is the heart stimulant in medicine, he thus 

especially loved it. 

THE WIFE OF BATH (lines 445 – 476) 

There was a good wife from near Bath, but she was somewhat deaf, and this 

was a pity. She was so skilful at cloth-making that she surpassed those of Ypres and 

Ghent. Of all the parish wives there was none who had the right to go to the offering 

(i.e. bread and wine offered at the altar for consecration) before her, and if one did, 

she became so angry that she showed no charity. Her head coverings were very finely 

woven and I can swear that the ones she wore on Sunday weighed ten pounds. Her 

stockings were of the finest scarlet and very tightly laced, while her shoes were very 

soft and new. She had a bold fair face, with red complexion She had been a wealthy 

woman all her life and had been married legally on five occasions besides having 

other lover in her youth, but for the present there is no need to speak about that. She 

10


had thrice been to Jerusalem and had crossed many a foreign river. She had been to 

Rome, Boulogne, Cologne, and to the shrine of St. James in Galicia ; she knew a great 

deal about traveling along the roads. To tell the truth she was gap-toothed. She sat 

easily upon her ambling horse, well provided with a wimple and with a hat as large as 

a small round shield. She had a large foot-cloth about her hips and on her feet a pair 

of sharp spurs. In company she knew well how to laugh and chatter; perhaps she 

knew (Ovid’s) Remedia amoris for she was well versed in all the approved devices of 

love-making. 

THE POOR PARSON (lines 477 – 528) 

There was a good religious man, a poor town parson, who (nevertheless) was 

rich in pious thoughts and deeds. He was also an educated man, a scholar, who 

genuinely preached Christ’s Gospel and devoutly taught his parishioners. He was 

gentle, extremely hard working and had proved himself on numerous occasions to be 

very patient in adversity. He was extremely reluctant to demand his tithes, and 

undoubtedly would give his poor parishioners in the neighbourhood his Easter money 

and also his own property. His material needs were easily satisfied. Those who were 

in sickness or in adversity were visited by the Parson, who trudged staff in hand to the 

farthest reaches of his wide parish, with houses far asunder, in all weathers and at all 

times. The shepherd set a noble example to his flock, which he had learnt from the 

Gospel. He first practised good works and then taught them. If a priest be ungodly in 

whom congregants place their trust – then the sinful man will quickly degenerate for 

should gold rust what can be expected of iron? But it is an even greater shame to 

have a sinful shepherd and pure sheep. By his clean living, a priest should set an 

example to his parishioners. The Parson did not hire out his services leaving his 

congregants without leadership, nor did he run to St. Paul’s in London to answer the 

advertisement of some craft gild for a chaplain to be retained by that body, instead he 

stayed at home to guard his flock from mischief; he was a true parson, not a 

mercenary. And although he was a virtuous and holy person, he did not despise sinful 

men, nor was gentle and discreet. His task was to save souls by setting a good 

example. But should a person prove obstinate, then the parson should sharply reprove 

the erring parishioner, no matter what his station was in life, I believe that a better 

priest is to be found nowhere else. He did not seek honour or respect, nor was he so 

11


over concerned with fine points that he lost sight of the lessons of Christ and his 

twelve Apostles, which he taught though first followed them himself. 

THE PLOWMAN (lines 528 – 541) 

With him (i.e. the Parson) was his brother, a Plowman, who in his time, had 

pulled many a cart-load of manure, for he was a good, honest worker who lived 

peacefully and was charitable to all. Whether it caused him pleasure or pain, he loved 

God with his whole heart at all times and (next to God) he loved his neighbours as 

himself. To please God, he was prepared to thresh, dig ditches, and lay water 

channels for all poor folk without charge if he possibly could. He paid the tithes 

derived from his own labour and those derived from the profits on his stock fully and 

regularly. He wore a sleeveless oat and rode a mare”. 

THE MILLER (Lines 542 – 566) 

Except for a Reeve a Miller, a Summoner, a Pardoner, a Manciple and myself 

(i.e. Chaucer) there were no other pilgrims. 

The Miller was an exceedingly stout fellow, with very big muscles and bones; 

these served him well, for everywhere he went he always won the wrestling contests. 

He was a short-shouldered, broad thick set fellow and there was no door that he could 

not heave off its hinge, or break open by running at it with his head. He had a broad, 

spade-like beard, which was as red as a sow or a fox. He had a mark on the tip of his 

nose, which was surmounted by a tuft of red hair, which resembled the bristles in a 

sow’s ear; he had flaring black nostrils. A sword and a small round shield hung at his 

side; his mouth was a wide as a great furnace. He was an idle talker and a teller of 

indecent stories of sin and harlotries. He well knew how to steal corn and take his toll 

three times, and yet, by God, he had a thumb of gold (in other words he illustrated the 

old proverb, ‘An honest miller has a golden thumb’ – i.e. he was as honest as millers 

go, which implies that he was not honest at all). He wore a white coat and a blue 

hood. He could blow and play a bagpipe well, and with it he piped us. (i.e. the 

pilgrim party) out of town. 

THE MANCIPLE (lines 567 – 586) 

12


There was a noble Manciple who served a College for lawyers, from whom 

buyers of victuals take an example on how prudently to purchase – for, whether he 

bought for cash or on credit he always came out well and ahead of everyone else. 

Now, is not God good to allow an ignorant fellow to surpass the learned in sharp 

wits? He had ore than thirty masters who were expert and skilled lawyers of which 

there were a dozen in that college capable of being stewards of income and property 

for any lord in England not only could they have seen to it that such a lord lived 

honourably on his own income or as economically as he pleased unless he was mad 

but they were able to help a whole country in any legal dispute that might arise and 

yet, in spite of all this, the Manciple made fools of them all. 

THE REEVE (lines 587 – 622) 

The Reeve was slightly-built, bad tempered man, whose beard was shaven 

closely to the skin, while his hair was cut around his ears and tonsured shortly at the 

front of his head in priestly fashion; his legs were as long and thin as walking sticks, 

and his calves could not be seen. He well knew how to keep a granary and a bin and 

no auditor could detect mistake in his accounts, while by observing the dry and rainy 

seasons of the year, he knew exactly when to sow and when to reap. This Reeve was 

in complete charge of his lord’s sheep, cattle, dairy, swine, horses, stock and poultry. 

Ever since his lord was twenty years old he had been under contract to render the 

estate accounts and no one could ever discover him to be in arrears. There was no 

bailiff, herdman or farm labuorer who was in any way cunning or deceitful that he did 

not know about and they were as fearful of him as of the plague. His pleasant home 

upon the heath was shaded with green trees. He could make purchases more 

advantageously than his lord could and he had secretly enriched his own barns 

through craftily pleasing his lord by giving and lending him even from his own 

property and being rewarded with the lord’s thanks and gifts of a gown and hood. In 

his youth he had learnt a useful trade and could work competently as a carpenter. 

This Reeve sat upon a low-bred, undersized horse of dapple grey which was called 

Scot; he wore a long overcoat of bluish grey carried a rusty sword by his side. This 

Reeve of whom I am speaking came from Norfolk and lived near a town called 

Baldewelle. His long coat was tucked into his girdle in friar-like fashion and he 

always rode at the rear of the company. 

13


THE SUMMONER (lines 623 – 668) 

With us in that place was a Summoner (i.e. one paid to summon serves to trial 

before an ecclesiastical Court) who had a fiery red cherubic face covered with 

pimples. His eyes were small and he was as lustful and lecherous as a sparrow, while 

his eye brows were scably and black and his beard scanty – children were afraid of his 

appearance. There was no quicksilver lead-ointment sulphur, borax, white lead, 

cream of tartar, or any other ointment which could cleanse and cauterize his skin, rid 

him of his white pimples and cure the boils, which disfigured his cheeks. He was 

passionately fond of garlic, onions and leeks and loved strong blood red wine, and, 

under its influence, he would shout and loved strong blood red wine, and under its 

influence, he would shout and cry out as if he had taken leave of his senses – (in fact) 

when he was well he was well sodden with wine he would only speak Latin. He knew 

two or three legal phrases which he had learnt from some document, which was no 

wonder since he heard such terms all day long and it is well known that the parrot can 

call out Walter as well as the Pope. But if any one questioned him on something else, 

it would soon be found that he had exhausted all his knowledge and would cry out 

‘What section of the law applies to this case?” Although he was a good-natured, 

gentle rogue and one would not find a better fellow, yet, in return for a quarter of 

wine, he would turn a blind eye on a friend’s immorality for 12 months. He well 

knew how to plunder a foolish fellow and if he encountered some doubtful rascal, he 

would put his mind at rest and teach him not to be afraid of the Archdeacon’s powers 

of excommunication unless his soul lay in his purse (i.e. he was a miser) for it was 

only in the purse that punishment need take place – ‘purse is the Archadeaon’s hell’ 

he declared. For my part I know quite well that he lied since every guilty man should 

fear excommunication in which lies the path of death just as absolution will save the 

soul so one should certainly be wary of excommunication (significant’ was the first 

word in the writ authorising the seizure of the goods of an excommunicated person). 

According to his own way, he had all the young people of the diocese in his power, 

since he knew all their secrets and acted as their adviser. He wore on his forehead a 

garland which was large enough to have served as an inn-sign, while he had made a 

small shield for himself and of a loaf of bread. 

THE PARDONER (lines 669 – 714) 

14


Alongside the Summoner there rode a noble Pardoner from the Priory of 

Rouncivale, his friend and his companion, who had recently come from the (Papal) 

Court of Rome, and who loudly sage the song ‘Come hither, love, to me!” while the 

Summoner accompanied him in such a deep bass that a trumpet could never make half 

as much din. This Pardoner had hair as yellow as wax which hung smoothly like a 

bundle of flax, his lacks hung in narrow strands and covered his shoulders. Out of 

jolliness he wore no hood, which was packed in his bag, for to him it seemed more 

festive to ride bareheaded, except for a cap on his disheveled locks, on which he had 

embroidered a copy of St. Veronica’s handkerchief. He had hare-like, staring eyes, a 

voice as thin as a goat and wore no beard-nor was he likely to have one, as his chin 

was as smooth as if just recently shaved. His bag lay on his lap before him brimful of 

pardons, hot from Rome, and with regard to his profession, there was never such a 

pardoner from Berwick down to Ware. In his bag he had a pillow case which he 

claimed was our Lady’s Veil; he said he had a piece of the sail belonging to St. Peter 

when the latter walked upon the sea until Jesus Christ saved him; he had a cross of 

brass studded with stones, and the bones of a pig in a glass. By means of these relics 

he made more money in a day than a poor county parson can make in two months. 

And thus with feigned flattery and tricks he made fools of the person and his 

congregants. But in conclusion he was a noble preacher in church; he could read well 

a lesson or a story, but best of all he sang the ‘Mass anthem’ for he knew full well 

that, when that song was sung, he might preach and polish his tongue to gain silver; 

and as he could do this excellently, so he sang even more cheerfully and loudly. 

AUTHOR’S PLAN OF REPORTING (lines 715 – 746) 

Now in a few words I have accurately told you the condition, the attire, the 

number and also the purpose of this company assembling in Southwark at this 

excellent hostelry called the Tabard, close beside this excellent hostelry called the 

Tabard, close beside the Bell. But now it is true to tell you how we spent that evening 

after arriving at the inn, thereafter I will recount our journey and all the rest of our 

pilgrimage. 

But first of all, I beg your courtesy not to think me ill-bred, if I speak plainly 

about this matter, telling you of their words and there actions, though I report their 

speech accurately. For you know as well as I do that anyone who wishes to repeat a 

15


tale he had heard from another, must repeat if possible, every phrase as faithfully as 

he can, eventhough these be rough and rude; otherwise, if it is recast into refined 

works and fresh phrases, the story will no longer be genuine. The story-teller must 

not filnch, eventhough it were his brother’s word he is repeating for, having spoken 

one word, he might as well complete the tale. Christ himself spoke quite openly in 

the Holy Scriptures, and you are well aware that there is nothing unseemly therein. 

And Plato also says, for those able to read him that ‘The words must be closely 

related to the facts’. 

I also beg of you to forgive me if I have not placed the people of the story in 

their proper places according to their rank in life, since you will realize that my 

knowledge (about these matters) is limited. 

THE HOST AND HIS PROPOSALS (lines 747 – 84) 

Our Host provided good fare for everyone of us, set us down to supper without 

more ado, and served as with an excellent meal, during which we were glad to drink 

the strong wine. Our Host was a striking person, fit to be master of ceremonies in a 

guild hall. He was a well-built man, with bright eyes-there was certainly no more 

prosperous citizen in Cheapside; although outspoken in his speech, he was both 

prudent and tactful and lacked none of the manly qualities. In addition, he was an 

extremely cheerful fellow, and after supper began to play music, while among other 

things, when we had paid our accounts, he spoke as follows : ‘Now my masters, you 

are truly and heartily welcome : by my troth I am not lying when I declare that I have 

not seen this year such a cheerful company in this tavern as is now gathered all 

together. I am anxious to entertain you to the best of my ability and a thought has just 

struck me of some fun to put you at your ease, which will cost you nothing at all. 

You are going to Canterbury – May God speed you on your way and the 

blessed martyr grant you your reward. And I have no doubt, that you go along the 

way you intend to tell stories and entertain ourselves, since it is neither pleasure nor 

fun to ride along the road in stony silence. Consequently, as I said just now, I shall 

provide some fun for you and see that you are cheerful. If you are all in unanimous 

agreement to stand by my decision and do what I tell you as you ride along the way 

tomorrow, then, by the soul of my late father, you can have my head if I don’t succeed 

in cheering you up’. Without further ado let us have a show of hands. 

16


We were not long about making up our minds as it was not worthwhile 

making it a subject for serious discussion. We granted his request at once and asked 

him to announce his plans whenever he pleased. ‘Masters, he said, Listen to me 

carefully, but I pray you, do not be disdainful of what I have to say. To cut a long 

story short, the point is this: to shorten the journey each member of his pilgrimage 

shall tell two tales. I mean, two on the way to Centerbury, and a further two on the 

homeward trip, of adventures that once actually happened. And that one who acquits 

himself best of all, that is to say, the one who relates stories of the highest moral 

teaching and edification on this occasion, shall be given a supper in this very tavern at 

the expenses of all of us when we return from Canterbury. And, to cheer you up all 

the more, I shall gladly accompany you on your trip. Pay my own expense and serve 

you as your guide, And if any one disputes my decision he shall pay all our traveling 

expenses. If you agree that this plan should be carried out tell me immediately 

without any further discussion and I will straightway prepare myself. 

The promise was made and we swore our oaths with glad hearts, requesting 

him to carry on as he planned, and asking him to serve as our leader, so that he could 

judge and comment on our tales and we would abide by all his decisions. We also 

asked him to prepare a (return) supper at a quoted price. Thus we unanimously set 

him up in judgment over us and wine was served at once. After drinking it, everyone 

retired without further delay. 

THE PILGRIMAGE BEGINS (lines 822 – 858) 

With the coming of dawn next morning our host was up first and awoke us all 

like a cock. He gathered us all together in a company and we rode forth at little more 

than a walking pace to St. Thomas’s Well. There our host reined in his horse and 

said, ‘Gentleman, listen if you please – although you probably recall our plan, I shall 

remind you about it. If you are still in agreement with what we arranged last evening, 

let us now see who shall tell the first story. As I hope to go on drinking good wine 

and ale, whoever opposes my decision will pay for all our traveling expenses. Now let 

us draw lots before we go any further, and he who draws the shortest straw will make 

a start. Sir Knight,” he went on, “my lord and master, draw your straw, for that is 

17


my decision. come nearer” he said “my lady Prioress, and you Sir Clerk, don’t be shy 

and come out of your day-dream; let every one show a hand. 

Immediately everyone came forward for the draw, and, to be brief. whether it 

was by luck, fate or chance, the truth is that the draw fell to the Knight. This pleased 

everyone tremendously, for he now had to tell his story as was only right, according 

to our arrangement, as you have heard. What more need I add?” When this good 

man saw what had happened, he said, like one who is prudent to his freely given 

promise, “Since I must begin the entertainment, in God’s name let the draw be 

welcome! Let us continue our journey, and listen to what I have to say.” And with 

these words we rode forth on our pilgrimage; and in right cheerful mood, be began to 

tell his tale forthwith relating it as follows : 

1.5 ENGLISH SOCIAL LIFE AS REFLECTED IN THE PROLOGUE 

In the “Prologue to the canterbury Tales” the members of the English society 

pause before us long enough for us to identify each one. Each has his own life and an 

identity which is for all time, yet together they sum up a society. 

All the writers of the fourteenth century reveal some aspect of contemporary 

life and of prevailing feeling and thought. In poets like Wychiff Gower and hangland, 

and the unknown poet of Pearl, we get a partial view of life and society in which they 

lived. But Chaucer’s work reflects his century not in fragments, but completely. 

More than this, he is often able to discern permanent feathers beneath the garments of 

a day, to penetrate to the everlasting springs of human action. His truthful pictures of 

his age and country contain a truth which is of all time and all countries. He portrays 

the social and literary tendencies of the eighteenth century in his poems in the most 

faithful way, and voices forth its ideals, hopes and aspirations. Chaucer, can very 

well be considered they representative of the world of fourteenth century England. 

There are thirty of the pilgrims, following the most diverse trades. The knight 

with his son, the squire, and the Yeoman who bore the Squire’s arms, represent the 

fighting class. A Doctor of Physic, a Man of Law, a Clerk of Oxford, and the poet 

himself, give a glimpse of the liberal profession. The land is represented by a 

Ploughman, a Miller, a Reeve and a Franklin; trade by a Merchant and a shipman; the 

crafts by a Wife of Bath, a Haberdasher, a Carpenter a Wabbe or Weaves, a Dyer, and 

18


a Tapicer; the victuallars by a Municipal, a cook, and the Host of the Tabard. The 

secular clergy provide the good Parson, and the odios summoner of an ecclesiastical 

court, who are joined on the road by a Canon addicted to alchnecy. The monastic 

orders supply a full contingent – a rich Benedicture. Monk, a Prioress with her chaplin 

Nun, a mendicant Frias; and not far from these religious lurks a doubtfully accredited 

Pardones. 

Chaucer’s knight is a personification of the lofty ideals of medieval chivalry 

keenly sensitive to human values. He deftly uses swift and light language consistent 

with the sprightliness of the youthful squire in contrast to the stately measures used to 

describe the courtly dignity of his father – the Knight. His flair for music and dance 

he shared with ladies and gentlemen of his class. Following the conventions of his 

society he was proficient in drawing, horsemanship and jousting. 

The type of the clergy abounding in worldliness that the Monk represents 

becomes the subject of Chaucer’s satire. There is no evidence to establish the 

individual identity of the mark. He is a composite portrait serving as a comment on 

the general deterioration in monasteries and the need for reforms in the functioning of 

the church. Though the portrait of the clerk recalls many of the trades of a philosopher 

there is an undercurrent of irony in Chaucer’s pun on the meaning of philosophers. 

Chaucer reports inoutward praise and inward condemnation of the 

characteristic of his Sergeant and renders him a man of purely material success. His 

profession combined with his legal skills gives him ample scope for acquiring wealth 

either by honest means of by deception. Chaucer comments on his greed to purchase 

enormous landed property. The Franklin appears to be a man of substance who is an 

extremely hospitable and a loyal servant of the king who discharges the duties of his 

office efficiently. However, Chaucer does not totally exempt him from a few lapses 

that flesh is heir to. The one weakness of the Franklin is a large capacity and desire 

for self-indulgence. 

Gilds were either socio-religious or trade organizations. The five gildsmen 

obviously pursue different trades but belong to the same socio-religious fraternity. 

Social life is largely governed and regulated by these gilds. The portraits of the five 

guildsmen and their cook gives us more or less a thumb nail sketch of English social 

ife and the role of the gilds in the growth and development of society. The cook is the 

19


most disreputable among the pilgrims. All these characters represents the secular 

interests. Medicine as a science was still in its infancy when Chaucer wrote. The 

influence of the stars on man’s behaviour fortune and health is deeply believed by the 

people. The doctor also shares this faith. 

The position of women in the medieval church differed essentially from that of 

men. Chaucer’s Madame Eglentine suits the world of the elegant country club in 

every respect. In this she was typical of the common patterns of nuns who ought 

normally to have remained unseen and in seclusion. She is simple and coy, given to 

affection. For example, she sings the service divine in a nasal voice. She does not 

know the French of Paris, but can speak French of the school of Straford Att Bowe 

very well. She has fine table manners, and lets no morsel fall on her dress. She is 

refined and delicate and does not soil her fingers in the sauce. 

The wife of Bath has evoked diverse comments. Some consider her coarse and 

dissolute, while others consider her to be a refreshing extrovert. But her good humour, 

warmth and outspokenness are seldom lost on the readers. Next to her love affairs, 

what she relish most if traveling in gay company. Love of travel rather than religious 

zeal is what prompts her to undertake a pilgrimage. The prologue to her tale is vivid 

account of her varied married life. 

Chaucer endows the Prioress with physical charms normally associated with 

the ladies of romance and of the court. Her habits too are more those of a secular 

heroine than of an officer in a convent. He remarks that the Prioress is “charitable 

and piteous”, that is she has the virtue of charity and mercy, to be expected of 

someone dedicated to a religious life. The illustration he then gives of her charity and 

pity concern not other people, but her pets. The “smale houndes” get the roasted 

meat, milk and finest bread that were regarded as delicacies in a society, in which, a 

good many people never had enough to eat. It seems a misdirected kind of charity 

and pity. 

This good lady is sometimes condemned outright as worldly, ambitious, and 

insensitive to the sufferings of others. What he does note is the Prioress’ concern with 

good manners and courtly etiquette. In the fifty lines that he devotes to the Prioress, 

he has shown with gentle irony his estimation of the lady and his amusement in 

catching her aping of courtly manners, showing a good secular taste in clothes and 

20


jewellery and harbouring a love of pets rather than human beings of the less attractive 

sort. 

Chaucer emphasizes the prioress’ basic feminity, rather than her spiritual 

qualities, “But sikerly she hadde a fair forehead “(The Prologue, 11.154). He not only 

draws attention to the lady’s beauty but also reminds that as a religious her forehead 

should not have been thus visible. Chaucer’s characterization of the prioress is 

extremely subtle, and his satire – if it can be called satire at all – is of the gentlest and 

more sympathetic sort. The closing remark about her brooch and motto has often 

been misunderstood, and the whole spirit of the passage consequently misrepresented. 

Chaucer’s Monk show as a great scorn for such an old-fashioned practice as 

working with his hands – he is a modern! In Chaucer’s representation of the Monk 

there is the same element of irony as in that of the Prioress. The Monk is also 

depicted as something of a worldling. Two fundamental rules for the conduct of 

monks in the Middle Ages were the obligations to work and to remain within their 

cloister. For Chaucer’s Monk hunting is the favourite pastime and he indicates his 

irritation with those who objected to hunting clergy in a homely and vividly phrase: It 

is significant that the aristocratic sport of hunting, to which he was so addicted, was 

forbidden to all monks. He might only fish in preparation for the days of abstinence 

when meat was forbidden. 

The Friar had little interest in penitence; his purpose was to gain a “good 

pittance”. Chaucer acidly describe the Friar’s view that all the sinner needs to do is 

to give money to a “poor” order to obtain divine forgiveness. The Friar knows the 

taverns and barmaids of every town far better than the lepers or beggers: The foibles 

of the Prioress are also treated with amused indulgences. But for the two clerics the 

Summoner and the Pardoner hold offices which lend themselves to abuse, and of this 

they take full advantage. The Pardoner, the Friar and the Summoner are his interest in 

rogues, ecclesiastics and preachership. For the Friar and the Summoner he has 

created a comody of contempt, bordering in the case of the Summoner on hatred. His 

full comedy of hatred is reserved for the Pardoner, who is the centre of the ironic 

rather than a satiric vision. 

Both men are shown as a sick men, hysterical and a little mad, and this should 

be interpreted in both the spiritual and physical senses. Had they been healthy they 

21


might have been included earlier in the list of ecclesiastics and their power is literary 

creations might have been diminished. Like many of Chaucer’s creation they stem 

from the popular evaluation of living men. 

That there were many abuses in the life and work of the Church in the later 

fourteenth century is also evident from the prologue. They took many forms, but 

underlying them all was a desire for personal gain, whether in the shape of wealth, or 

personal honour, or greater material comfort. Chaucer’s Monk enjoyed hunting a 

great deal more than the studious seclusion of his cloister, and a prioress is as aware 

of worldly esteem as the very worldly wife of Bath or the equally aspiring 

tradesman’s wives mentioned in the lines 376 – 78. And as for the desire for gain, it 

is obvious from the clothes worn by pilgrims pledged to simple and austere living and 

the unscrupulous dealings to others, whether men of the church like the Friar and the 

Pardoner or the Shipman or the Miller. There were quite a few among Chaucer’s 

twenty nine pilgrims who were ready to ignore both the teaching and the warnings of 

their church for the sake of personal profit. One can be sure that Chaucer was not 

exaggerating the evils of the society of his time. 

On the other hand, there were those who took their faith and observances more 

seriously, like the knight ho hastened to Canterbury to give thanks after his latest 

campaign, or the Parson whom Chaucer singles out as a model of righteous unselfish 

living. Chaucer is always ready to give praise when he finds to do so. It so happens 

that the result in both cases is the same, for whether Chaucer is criticizing or 

commending people’s conduct he is drawing attention to their relationship with the 

Church and stressing the latter’s importance in his time. It is because the Church was 

still so much the centre of the medieval society that Chaucer includes nines 

ecclesiastical pilgrims among his company and devotes more than three hundred lines 

of The Prologue to the description of the seven of them. 

As professional churchmen and women they would attract attention not only 

as individuals, but as representatives of the Church, and Chaucer packs a good deal of 

criticism in to these seven portraits. Although he makes allowances, he speaks out 

boldly against corrupt institutions like the selling of pardons, for which the church 

itself was primarily to blame. The contrast with the lay pilgrims is obvious, for they 

are not representatives in the same way: the Miller may not be scrupulously honest, 

22


but there is nothing wrong with milling as a trade, and similarly with the other crafts 

and professions. This is not to say, of course, that the church pilgrims are somehow 

“types” and others not; far from it; Chaucer does seem to suggest that while an 

irresponsible or corrupt churchman does harm to the whole church a dishonest trader 

does not in the same way harm the whole of his profession. 

The Parson, self-effacing, dutiful and altruistic, is a positive and unpretentious 

man, presented by the poet entirely without irony, He needed the tithes, the tax of 

one-tenth upon the produce of the faithful in the parish. The sketch of the parson is 

an ideal portrait of a good p1arish priest. The Parson’s portrait in comparison with 

those of the Monk and Friar, is like a drink of cold water after being excited and 

fuddled by wine; satiric ambiguities and ironic tones vanish in favour of a simple 

purity. 

And with the exception of the Parson, and perhaps his brother the ploughman, 

all pilgrims, especially the churchmen, have their eyes very much on things of this 

world. In an age when so many members of the clergy were lax and selfish and 

neglectful of their duties, he stands out as almost unbelievably righteous and 

conscientious. Indeed, the only fault is his lack of patience with obstinate sinners. 

Chaucer was not content to make his pilgrims typical only of their several 

callings. Sometimes a classification of another kind crosses with that by traders and 

enriches it. Thus the squire stands for youth and the Ploughman for the perfect 

charity stands for the humble, while in the Wife of Bath there is the essence of satire 

against women. Nor is this all. Chaucer, by details he was observed for himself, puts 

life into conventional descriptions and generalizations made by others. He adds 

individual to generic features; even when he paints a type he gives the impression that 

he is painting some one person whom he hyappens to have met. He mixes these two 

elements in varying proportions and with great although imperceptible skill. His 

figures, a little more generated would be frozen into symbolism, mere cold 

abstractions, while a few more purely individual features would cause confusion, 

destroying landmarks and leading attention astray. Chaucer does not only draw frank 

or delicately traced portraits which give to his character the immobility to 

permanence. He also makes each pilgrim step out the frame in which he first placed 

him. 

23


Thus English society, which to the visionary England seemed a swarming and 

confused mass, a mob of men stumbling against each other in the semi-darkness of a 

nightmare, was distributed by Chaucer among a group which is clearly seen, restricted 

in size, and representative. Its members pause before us long enough for us to 

identity each one. Each has his own life and an identity which is for all time, yet 

together they sum up a society. 

1.6 STYLE AND TECHNIQUE IN CHAUCER’S PROLOGUE TO THE 

CANTEBURY TALES: 

The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales has, ever since Dryden’s day, been 

recognized as one of Chaucer’s sure master-pieces. The Prologue contains pictures 

from the fourteen century England which no Medieval writer had ever attempted. 

They are full of direct and personal touches. Chaucer with a universal artful talent 

makes the speaker unconsciously a self – satirist. The extraordinary vividness and 

precision of the presentment of images, whether complicated or simple, is remarkable. 

His astonishing command of rhetoric, his “gold dewdrops of speech” is wonderful. 

The inexhaustible freshness and propriety of his phrase deserve all praise and 

appreciation. Chaucer is the earliest English poet who can, without reservations and 

allowances, be called great and what is more, one of the greatest even to the present 

day. 

The Prologue describes the cavalcade of the pilgrims to the shrine of Becket 

and depicts each in a series of wonderful vignettes. His catalogue opens with the 

prioress and the Monk, who were fairly high in the scale; continues with the Friar and 

Nun’s priest or Chaplain; turns next to the Person and the Clerk, and ends with the 

Summoner and the Pardoner who are left at the tail of the list because they were in a 

literal sense the dregs, and brought disgrace to the Church by their malpractices. Had 

the prioress been less worldly she should have been excluded from the list, but since 

she is the unique Madame Eglentine she is out in the world, and demands inclusion. 

The Monk from his monastery; the prioress from her convent, her attendant 

priest, the village parson, and the roaming Friar, sufficiently covered the more usual 

religious categories. The courtly pretensions of the prioress and the humble origins of 

the parson, the brother of Pluoghman, showed the comparative unimportance of 

personal rank in the religious life. At an infinite moral and social depth below all 

24


these came the pardoner and the summoner. Chaucer, looking about him, sees fit to 

define a large proportion of his character by where they stand with regard to the 

church. 

The simplicity of Chaucer’s method, its complete lack of any artifice, the sure 

hand with which he traced portraits to form the prologue of his Tales, are surprising. 

He made is group of pilgrims into a picture of the society of his time of which the like 

is not to be found elsewhere. Except for royalty and the nobles one the one hand, and 

the drugs of the people on the others, two classes whom probability excluded from 

sharing a pilgrimage, he painted, in brief, almost the whole English nation. 

Chaucer has collected the descriptions of the pilgrims in his general prologue, 

which is a true picture – gallery. His twenty – nine traveling companions make almost 

as many portraits, hung from its walls. They face us, in equidistant frames, on the 

same plane, all hanging on the line. Chaucer is a primitive, aiming at exactness of 

feature and correctness of emblem. He is primitive also a by a certain honest 

awkwardness, the unskilled stiffness of some of his outlines, and such an insistence 

one minute point as at first provokes a smile. He seems to a mass details haphazard, 

alternates the particular of a costume with the points of a character, drops the one for 

the other, picks either up again. Sometimes he interrupts the painting of a pilgrim’s 

character to put colour on him face or his tunic. It is an endearing carelessness, which 

hides his art and heightens the impression he makes of veracity. Whoever enters this 

gallery is first struck by some patches of brilliant colour, dominating one or other of 

the portraits, the squire’s gown : 

‘Embrowded was he, as it wear a mede, 

Al full of fresshe Houres, white and reede, and near him the Yeoman who 

serves him ‘in coote and hood of grene.” How the Prioress’s rosary, ‘of small coral’, 

with its decades, ‘guaded al with grene’, and it handing brooch’ of gold ful scheme’, 

stands out against her dress! There are faces as strongly coloured as any of the fabrics 

or accessories – the pustulous countenance of the sompnour, ‘a tyr-reed cherubynes 

face,’ 

‘With skalled browes blak, and piled berd, and the Miller, whose beard ‘as any 

sowe or fox was reed’ with his ward whence sprouts a tuft of red hairs, his wide and 

25


black nostrils, and his mouth ‘as wyde as was a great forneys. There are also duller 

colours to rest the sight, and to make the cruder hues more brilliant by contrast. The 

pious and modest knight was ‘nought gay’. 

‘Of fustian he werede a gepoun, 

All bysmotered with his habergeoun.’ 

The poor Clerk was ‘ful threadbare’, the Man of Law’ rood but hoomly in a 

medled coote’, the Reeve wore a ‘long surcote of pers’, or blue, and the good Parson 

is drawn without line or colour, so that we are free to imagine him lit only by the light 

of the Gospel shining from his eyes. 

Essential moral characteristics are thrown into relief with the same apparent 

simplicity and the same real command of means as the colours and the significant 

articles of clothing. Mere statements of fact, suggestive anecdotes, particulars relating 

to calling and individual traits, lines of summing up a character – all these make up a 

whole which stands out upon its canvas. The outline is strong and clear, although 

sometimes a little stiff, in the steady light which is shed on it, and it is unforgettable. 

A distinctive feature of the General Prologue is its method of characterization. 

Each of the pilgrims who is described is revealed in such sharp and clear detail that 

we feel personally acquainted with him or her as an individual, and at the same time 

we recognize him as representative, not only of a social class, but of a type of 

character which may be recognized in any country and in any age. Nothing like this 

series of portraits had ever appeared in literature. It is the main reason for the 

perennial appeal of the General Prologue. Any analysis of these portraits must be 

inadequate to account for their extra ordinary charm. 

Chaucer represents his times completely, not in fragments : there is also a 

universal element in his poetry. He is the creator of the modern English versification. 

He imported the heroic couplet from France and used it with great ease and fluency. He 

experimented with a number of metres and stanza patterns. He invented the Rhyma Royal or 

the Chaucerian stanza (ab a b b c c). "He found English a dialect and left it a language." 

Except for Blank Verse, he left English poetry fully equipped. He also used Terza Rhyma 

for his 'A Complaint unto His Lady'. He inculcated into the East Midland dialect the 

refinement and courtliness of France. He imparted to his own tongue the grace and 

26


refinement he found in French poetry. "A Frenchman may enter Chaucer's country and be 

conscious of no change" (Legouis). 

Chaucer modernised grammar and vocabulary of his tongue. He coined many new 

words, and imported many others. In this way, he enriched his tongue. He imparted to 

English verse a rare music and melody which is learnt from France. "His claim on our 

gratitude is two-fold," says Long, "first for discovering the music that is in our English 

speech and second for his influence in fixing the Midland Dialect as the literary language of 

England." He changed the very nature, syntax and grammar of the English tongue. 

Chaucer’s poetry is characterised by clarity in expression zest for life, the 

enjoyment of nature and restraint in the expression of emotion, feeling whether pathetic or 

ironic. He provokes smiles rather than loud laughter. His humour is rich and varied. In 

this respect, he is second only to Shakespeare. He added realism to English poetry. The 

prologue to the Canterbury Tales gives us a realistic picture of the social life of the 

times. He used, a stronger and richer poetical language and similies and metaphors such as 

were used by the classical authors. This was mainly due to the Italian influence. 

Chaucer is the supreme story teller in verse. He has greater sense of narrative 

unities and can be more precise and to the point, when he likes, than any of his 

contemporaries. His mastery of the art of narration has led many to call Chaucer, the 

father of the English novel. His Canterbury Tales are so many novels in miniature. They 

are only to be translated into prose to become so many modern novels. That is why 

'Long' has called his Prologue to the Canterbury Tales as "the Prologue to the modern 

fiction." 

Chaucer has his own limitations. According to Matthew Arnold, he does not 

have that sublimity and high seriousness which is the sign of great poetry. He 

represents the growth of intelligence and the consequent weakening of passion and 

imagination. Since a lyric is a compound of imagination and passion there is lack of 

lyricism in his poetry. He cannot, therefore, be regarded as great as the great classics. 

Limitations of his narrative art have already been noted above. 

Chaucer, however, is capable of pathos and irony which sometimes blend as 

tragedy. Sometimes as melodrama. As one reads Chaucer, the inescapable 

conclusion comes again that the great poet was forever concerned with the essential 

27


irony of human existence, with the rather ludicrous mockery arising from joy and 

ambition dashed unexpectedly by frustration and despair. 

Chaucer’s style is characterized chiefly by simplicity. Except in those cases 

where the author uses archaic form to preserve the rhyme effect, his words are 

commonplaces of ordinary people in ordinary circumstances. His sentences are 

simple in form and structure and noticeably free of studied balance. Indeed his 

writing is singularly free of the far-fetched puns and metaphors which characterize 

Shakespeare. To read Chaucer, then, is much like listening to a cultured and 

accomplished story teller. The tales tell themselves without effort or delay. 

The device of a springtime pilgrimage, the diverse group of persons making 

up the company, and the adventures one can reasonably except on such a journey, 

provided Chaucer with a wide range of characters and experiences. The setting does 

not permit boredom. We are told in the Prologue that each member of the company 

was to tell two stories. This would have amounted to sixty tales, plus the author’s 

account of the stay in Canterbury. 

Chaucer, who had composed on of the great classics of English literature in a 

largely playful mood, embracing and enjoying all the foibles of human nature, closes 

his great work with a grim supplication for heavenly forbearance. 

1.7 LET US SUM UP 

The study of prologue to Canterbury tales no doubt, proves father of 

Chaucer's place as the father of English poetry. We get from him a lot of zest for life 

and a refreshing enjoyment of all that is beautiful in nature and life. He is certainly among 

the few greatest poets of the world. 

1.8 LESSON – END ACTIVITIES: 

1. Consider the prologue to the Canterbury Tales as a portrait gallery. 

2. Discuss Chaucer as a satirist. 

3. What are the significant aspects of Chaucer’s style in the prologue to the 

Canterbury Tales. 

1.9 REFERENCES 

28


Burrow, J.A., Geoffrey Chaucer. England : Penguin Books Ltd., 1969 

Coghill. Noville The Poet Chaucer. 1949 ; rpt. London : Home University 

Library, 1964. 

Daiches, David A Critical History of English Lift. 1960 ; rpt. London: Martin 

Secker and Warburg Ltd., 1968. I. 

Howard. J. Edwin Geoffrey Chaucer. London : The Macmillan Press Ltd., 1976. 

Hussey, Maurice et al., An Introduction to Chaucer. 1965 : rpt. London : Cambridge 

University Press, 1968. 

Lamb, Sidney. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales The Prologue. London : Coles 

Publishing Company Ltd., 1967. 

Skeat, W. Walter ed. Chaucer : The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales, 3 rd ed. 

Rev. London: Oxford University Press. 1967. 

Wyatt, A.J. Cd. Chaucer : The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. 1960 : rpt. 

London : University Tutorial Press Ltd., 1968. 

29


Contents 


2.1 Introduction. 

2.2 Goldsmith’s life & works. 

LESSON - 2 

OLIVER GOLDSMITH 

THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

2.3 Outline of the Poem the Deserted Village 

2.4 STYLE & TECHNIQUE 

2.5 Pathos in the Deserted Village 

2.6 Goldsmith’s use of contrasts 

2.7 Nature descriptions in the poem 

2.8 The character of the village preacher 

2.9 Let us Sum Up 

2.10 Lesson – End Activities 



This lesson is devoted for making you know about the Oliver 

Goldsmith’s poem entitled “The Deserted Village”. After going through 

this lesson you will have clear understanding of “The Deserted 

Village”. 


In a dedication of this poem to Sir Joshua Reynolds Dr. 

Goldsmith says, 'I know you will object and indeed several of our 

best and wisest friends concur in the opinion that the depopulation 

it deplores is no where to be seen, and the disorders it laments are 

only to be found in the poet's own imagination. To this I can scarce 

make any other answer than that I sincerely believe what I have 

written; that I have taken all possible pains, in my country 

excursions, for these four or five years past, to be certain of what 

I alledge, and that all my views and enquiries have led me to believe 

those miseries real, which I here attempt to display.' 

In the Deserted Village, the poet a son of the village, who 

remembers it in its prosperous days, and who amid all his many 

wanderings, hopes to return home at last, is represented as coming 

back only to find sweet Auburn deserted and in ruins. He recalls the 

simple merry rustic life, the celergyman, the school-master, the 

30


village inn. He pictures the villages suffering the woes of exile in 

an unkindly land; and he curses trade as causing the luxury that 

produced this depopulation. The population of England was indeed 

shifting at this time, but it was increasing. The economic aspect of 

the poem, however, does not concern us. Nor yet does the precise 

locality of Auburn matter much. Some maintain that it is England, 

others in Ireland. 

According to Macaulay, the picture in the poem “is made up of 

incongruous parts. The village in its happy days is a true English 

village. The village in its decay is an Irish Village. This 

incongruity, if incongruity it be, was just reversed in Goldsmith’s 

own mind. He distinctly says that the saw the depopulation in 

England and maintains this in spite of contradiction. The Village in 

its prosperity was in Ireland : it was lissoy, seen through the 

medium of years of exile, and naturally appearing in a rosy light. 

But it is not the topography of the poem that is important : it is 

the melody of the verse, the simplicity, the natural scene-painting, 

the sympathy with suffering men and women. 

Goldsmith’s impersonal moralizing was in much of its 

substance as conservative as his manner. His didactic 

generalities were enclosed in regular couplets, and, 

without being told. 

Goldsmith’s dislike of commercialism is more 

central in the Deserted Village. However nostalgic 

fancy may have operated, his instinctive sympathy and 

sentiment – not philosophic sentimentalism- gave the 

picture a warmth and charm that won it immediate and 

lasting popularity. In this poem the metrical 

movement and the manner have exchanged much of their 

gnomic stiffness and generality for a more natural 

and varied ease, more concrete detail, and simpler 

language. 

The Deserted Village laments the onslaught of the Industrial 

Revolution the village. With mills and factories arising on its farms 

and fields/the natives are quitting it to seek ‘fresh woods and 

pastures. The poet cannot but protest against a state of things’ 

31


where wealth accumulates, and men decay’ As the Village that met this 

fate was the poet’s birth-place Lissoy in Ireland, called Auburn in 

the poem, a note of melancholy homesickness runs throughout. Gating 

features of the poem is its portraits of the prominent figures of the 

village. 

2.2 Goldsmith’s life & works. 

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-74) was the son of an Irish clergyman. 

After a desultory course of studies at home and in a number of 

schools, he joined Trinity College, Dublin, as a sizar in 1774 and 

graduated in 1749. In 1751 he presented himself for ordination as a 

priest, but was rejected. He then studied medicine at Edinburgh and 

at Leyden, and during 1755-56 wandered about France, Switzerland and 

Italy, more or less in the manner of the Philosophic Vagabond, 

described in The ViAcar of Wakefield. He returned to England in 1756, 

completely destitute and started practice as a doctor in South wark, 

London. 

Goldsmith was an usher for a time at a scholl in Peckham, and 

soon drifted into the occupation of a hack-writer. The first book 

which brought him recognition was his Enquiry into the Present State 

of Polite Learning, which was published in 1759. In the same year he 

published his little periodical, The Bee, which contained the well- 

known descriptive essay A City Night-Piece. He contributed to various 

magazines. His Chinese letters, later published as The Citizen of the 

World in 1762, were originally written for The Public Ledger, published 

by John Newbery. 

He made the acquaintance of Dr.Johnson in 1761 and one of the 

original members of 'The Club'. His great novel The Vicar of Wakefield 

was published in 1766, though the manuscript of the book was sold by 

Dr.Johnson for Goldsmith in 1762 for £ 60. His poem The Traveller 

appeared in 1764 and was welcomed by the public. He continued to do a 

lot of hack-work for book-sellers, writing histories and biographies. 

His first corned The Good natured Man was produced at Covent Garden 

Theatre in 1768 and achieved a moderate success. His second comedy 

She stoops to Conquer was played at Covent Garden in 1773 and was 

tremendous success. In 1770 appeared The Deserted Village. Retaliation 

was the last effort of his muse, a masterpiece of with and humour. 

Because of his improvidence and unthinking generosity he remained in 

32


poverty and want. He died in 1744. On the monument erected to his 

memory in Westminister Abbey is engraved a Latin epitaph written by 

Dr.Johnson stating that he adorned whatever he touched. It is a proof 

of the high respect which the Doctor had for his worth and literary 

abilities. 

Goldsmith made a name in all that he attempted – poetry, novel, 

drama essay. In poetry his two principal works are The Traveler and 

The Deserted Village but the wrote shorter poems too, which include a 

series of mock-epitaphs called Retaliation: a light satirical: 

epistle. The Haunch of Venison, occasioned by Lord Glare’s Present of 

venison to the poet: two mock-eleies, On that Glory of her Sex Mr. 

Mary Blaize and On the Death of a Mad Dog: and the song ‘When lovely 

woman stoops to folly’. Last two poems are contained in his novel, 

The Vicar of Wakefield. ‘The Traveller, Which grew out of his’ 

wanderings on the Continent, gives an account of life in the happiest 

spot’ on earth he comes to ‘the conclusion that though’ the sum of 

human bliss (is) so small’, ‘an equal portion (is) dealt to: all 

mankind’. The poem is written in easy graceful heroic couple. 

2.3 Outline of the Poem the Deserted Village 

The Author writes in the character of a native of a country 

village, to which he gives the name of Auburn, and which he thus 

pathetically addresses: as reflected in the opening stanzas. (Lines 

1-56) 

Sweet Auburn is the loveliest village of the plain. Where 

health and plenty cheer’d the labouring swain, where spring paid its 

earliest visit, and parting summer’s lingering blooms delay’d. It is 

exquisitely charming. 

The Poem opens with an apostrophe to its subject: Sweet 

Auburn, is the loveliest village of the plain, where health and 

plenty cheer’d the ‘labouring swain’; here smiling spring paid its 

earliest visit, and parting summer’s lingering blooms delayed. This 

place is the lovely bowers of innocence and ease, ‘Seats of my 

youth’, when ‘every sport’ could please; The Poet had often loitered 

in the green, Where humble happiness endear’d each scene. Many times 

he had paused on every charm, such as ‘the sheltered cot’, ‘the 

cultivated farm’ ‘The never-failing brook’, the busy mill, The 

33


decent church, that topt the neighb’ring hill. 

The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, was suitable, 

for the whispering lovers. How often have I blest the coming day, 

All the village when free from labour ‘led up their sports beneath 

the spreading tree; While many a pastime circled in the shad’,, The 

young contended while the old surveyed; ‘And many a gambol frolicked 

o’er the ground’, ‘There were scenes of flights of art and feats of 

strength’. As each repeated pleasure tired, succeeding sports 

inspired the mirthful band. The dancing pair, that simply sought 

renown by holding out to tire each other down; ‘The swain mistrust 

less of his smutted face’. 

While secret laughter tittered round the place; The matron’s 

glance reproved ‘The bashful virgin’s side-long looks of love’, 

These were thy charms sweet village; sports like these with sweet 

succession taught e’en toil to please; These round thy bowers thy 

cheerful influence shed, These were thy charms—But all these charms 

are fled. 

The village diversions are insisted on with too much 

prolixity. They are described first with a generality and redundance, 

they are sports, and pastimes, and gambols, and flights of art, and 

feats of strength; and they are represented sometimes as passive, the 

‘sports are led up;’ sometimes as active, the ‘pastimes circle,’ and 

the gambols ‘frolick,’ and the ‘flights and feats go round.’ But we 

are perhaps fully recompensed for this, by the classical and 

beautiful particularity and conciseness of the context, ‘the dancing 

pair,’ ‘the swain mistmstless of his smutted face,’ the ‘bashful 

virgin’s looks. 

In the Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, The sports 

are fled, and all its charms are withdrawn; Amidst the beowers the 

tyrant’s hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green; One only 

master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling 

plain; The glassy brook no more reflects the day, but is choked with 

sedges and works its weedy way. Along the glades a solitary guest, 

The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; Amidst thy desert walks 

the lapwing flies, and tires their echoes with repeated cries. Sunk 

are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long grass o’er tops 

the mould’ring 

wall, And trembling, shrinking, from the spoiler’s 

34


hand, Far, far away thy children leave the land. 

‘Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey’, where wealth 

accumulates, and men decay; Princes and lords may flourish, or may 

fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a hold 

peasantry, their country’s pride, When once destroy’d can never be 

supply’d. 

A time there was, e’re England’s griefs 

began, 

When every rood of ground maintain’d its man; For him light 

labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life requir’d but 

gave no more: His best companions innocence and health, And his best 

riches ignorance of wealth. 

The first of these paragraphs, ‘III fares the land, with all 

its merit, which is great, for the sentiment is noble. The affair of 

depopulation had been more fully described, and is followed by a 

concluding reflection. The second asserts what has been repeatedly 

denied, that ‘there was a time in England, when every rood of ground 

maintained its man.’ If however such a time ever was, it could not be 

so recent as when the Deserted Village was flourishing, a 

circumstance supposed to exist within the remembrance of the poet; 

But now times had changed and Usurped the land, and 

dispossessed the swain; 

Along the lawn, where there were scatter’d hamlets Unwieldy 

wealth, and clumb’rous pomp rested; 

And every want to opulence allied, 

And every pang that folly pays to pride. 

Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom, 

Those calm desires that ask’d but little room, 

Those healthful sports that grac’d the peaceful scene, 

Liv’d in each look, and brighten ‘d all the green; 

These far-departing, seek a kinder shore, 

And rural mirth and manners are no more. 

35


The forlorn glades confess the tyrant’s power. In the poet’s 

solitary rounds, amidst his thy tangling walks, and ruin’d grounds, 

after many years he returns to view, “where once the cottage stood 

the hawthorn grew,With doubtful, pensive steps he wanders and traces 

every scene, and wonders at the change. 

The Matron gathering water-cresses, is a fine picture; Sudden 

calamity occasions violent emotions, but habitual hardship does not 

produce incessant sorrow; as time reconciles her to the most 

disagreeable situations. After mentioning the general privation of 

the ‘bloomy flush of life,’ the exceptionary, ‘all but,’ includes, as 

part of that ‘bloomy flush,’ an ‘aged decrepid matron; that is to 

say, in plain prose, ‘the bloomy flush of life is all fled but one 

old woman.’ 

“The Poet now recurs again to the past. When Auburn is 

described as flourishing, its Clergyman as a principal inhabitant, is 

very properly introduced. This supposed Village Pastor, is 

characterized in a manner which seems almost unexceptionable, both 

for sentiment and expression. His contentment, hospitality, and 

piety, are pointed out with sufficient particularity” 

The village preacher was, to all the country dear, And passing 

rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly 

race, never had chang’d, nor wish’d to change his place. The 

benevolent mind cannot but yield its hearty assent to this beautiful 

oblique reprehension of that avarice which makes the crimes and 

errors of the poor, a pretence to justify the indulgence of its own 

parsimony. At church with meek and unaffected grace, His looks 

adorne’d the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevaile’d with 

double sway, and fools who came to scoff, remaine’d to pray . . . 

Poetry attains its full purpose, when it sets its subjects 

strongly and distinctly in our view. The good old man attended by his 

venerating parishioners, and with a kind of dignified complacence, 

even permits the familiarities of their children. As every parish has 

its Clergyman, almost every parish has its School-master. This 

secondary character is here described with great force and precision. 

The Muse, in part of her description, has descended to convey village 

ideas, in village language, but has contrived to give just so much 

dignity to the familiar. 

The portraits of the village preacher and the village master 

36


have become memorable pieces and are remembered for their simplicity 

and sympathy. The village preacher was dear to all the country, and 

passing rich with forty pounds a year. Remote from towns he ran his 

godly race. He did not fawn, or seek for power. In arguing too, the 

parson owned his skill. For even though ‘ Vanquished, he could argue 

still. While words of learned length and thundering sound. Amaz’d the 

gazing rustics rang’d around. And still they gaz’d and still the 

wonder grew. That are small head could carry all he knew. 

The rest of the poem consists of the character of the village 

schoolmaster, and a description of the village alehouse, both drawn 

with admirable propriety and force; a descant on the mischiefs of 

luxury and wealth, the variety of artificial pleasures, the miseries 

of those, who, for want of employment at home, are driven to settle 

new colonies abroad, and the following beautiful apostrophe to 

Poetry. Having enumerated the domestic virtues which are leaving the 

country with the inhabitants of his deserted village. 

“Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With 

blossomed furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, 

skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school; A man 

severe he was, and stern to view”, The Poet knew him well, and every 

truant knew; the boding tremblers learned to trace the day's 

disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with 

counterfeited glee, at all his jokes, for he had many a joke. The 

busy whisper went circling round, conveying the dismal tidings when 

he frown'd; Yet he was kind, or if severe in anything, The love he 

bore to learning was in fault; The village all declared how much he 

knew; it was certain that he could write and cypher too; Lands he 

could measure, terms and tides presage, And even the story ran that 

he could gauge . . .1 

This is a very elegant poem, written with great pains, yet 

bearing every possible mark of facility; the description of a country 

school-master, and a village alehouse is particularly picturesque. 

This is followed by description of the Village Alehouse. Near 

yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, Where once the sign-post 

caught the passing eye; Low lies that house, where nut-brown draughts 

inspired, Where grey-beard mirth, and smiling toil retired . . . 

pathos: 

Words like ‘Thither no more,’ adds a kind of pleasing regretful 

37


Vain transitory splendors ! could not all Reprieve the 

tottering mansion from its fall ! Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more 

impart an hour’s importance to the poor man’s heart . . . 

His is not poetical fiction, but historical truth. The real 

country, with the men who actually drive the plough, or wield the 

scythe, the sickle, the hammer, or the hedging bill are presented. 

The Deserted Village, as has been hinted, is, on the whole, a 

performance of great merits which has numerous excellencies. 

2.4 STYLE & TECHNIQUE 

Goldsmith's Deserted Village, is a performance of 

distinguished merit. The general idea it inculcates is this; that 

commerce, by an enormous introduction of wealth, has augmented the 

number of the rich. The picturesque imagery, and the interesting 

sentiment, are conveyed in melodious and regularly measured 

language. 

In this extract there is a strain of poetry very different from 

the quaint phrase, and forced construction, into which our 

fashionable bards are distorting prose; yet it may be remarked, that 

our pity is here principally excited for what cannot suffer, for a 

brook that is choked with sedges, a glade that is become the solitary 

haunt of the bitter, a walk deserted to the lapwing, and a wall that 

is half hidden by grass. 

As the poet contemplates the ruins of the village magnificent 

or beautiful ins series highlights the tender and mournful pleasure 

from this fanciful association of ideas. He proceeds to contrast the 

innocence and happiness of a simple and natural state, with the 

miseries and vices that have been introduced by polished life in 

lines 57-74. This is fine painting and fine poetry. 

Commenting on repetition the word ‘bowers,’ occurs twice, the 

word ‘sweet,’ thrice, and ‘charms,’ and ‘sport,’ singular or plural, 

four times. We have also ‘toil remitting,’ and ‘toil taught to 

please,’ ‘succeeding sports,’ and ‘sports with sweet succession.’ 

There is a repetition which indicates intention, and maintains 

regularity; and there is a repetition which discovers either 

carelessness, or poverty of language. Auburn had before, been termed 

‘sweet,’ and ‘The loveliest village of the plain-’ it is now termed 

38


‘sweet’ and ‘smiling,’ and ‘the loveliest of the lawn.’ We had been 

told, in line 34. that ‘all its charms were fled and we are now told 

that ‘its sports are fled, and its charms withdrawn.’ The ‘tyrant’s 

hand,’ seems mentioned rather too abruptly; and ‘desolation saddening 

the green’ is common place phraseology. The eight lines, ‘No more the 

glassy brook’ are natural and beautiful; but the next two, ‘And 

trembling, shrinking, introduce the subject of emigration. 

The adjective ‘sweet,’ is frequently repeated. The obscure and 

indefinite idea of a ‘Tyrant,’ also recurs. There is pathos in the 

lines, ‘And many a year, we wish to hear more of the Village in its 

prosperity, before we hear so much of its desolation. It abounds 

with precepts of the soundest policy, the shrewdest remarks on human 

character, descriptions of local scenery as rich and as appropriate 

as any thing that ever came from the pen of Shakespeare or the pencil 

of Claude; and, for plaintive melody of versification, and pathetic 

appeals to the heart, It stands perhaps unrivalled. 

It overflows with charms for every laudable variety of taste, 

and for each degree of understanding. To its matter, and the 

harmonious numbers in which it is conveyed, there exists something 

responsive in every bosom: no preparative erudition is required to 

make it intelligible, nor any comment wanting to indicate their 

beauties; The construction of which, however beautiful, is scarcely 

ever adverted to by the multitudes who are enraptured with the images 

which they present to the mind. 

Nothing of its kind can be more finished than the picture of 

the village-clergyman: but the simile employed to illustrate the 

poet’s account of his strict performance of the pastoral office, the 

affection he feels for his people, and the persevering piety by which 

he wins them to paths of holiness and peace, if not matchless, has 

never been excelled: 

In support of this remark, the following few passages are 

cited from the Deserted Village; 

‘And as a bird each fond endearment tries. To tempt its new- 

fledg’d offspring to the skies, he try’d each art, reprov’d each 

dull delay, Allur’d to brighter worlds, and led the way.’ If this 

idea can be equalled by another, in any language, ancient or modern, 

it is by that with which the portrait concludes: ‘To them his heart, 

his love, his griefs were giv’n; But all his serious thoughts had 

39


rest in heav’n. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells 

from the vale, and mid-way leaves the storm, Though’ round its breast 

the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.’ 

The lofty idea of the function of poetry, sweet poetry, that 

loveliest mind makes us ask where another poem comparable to it in 

exquisitely chiseled magery, in white-heat struck out phrases, in 

elegance in elegance of diction, and softness of numbers. We 

reluctantly leave a poem which is so arrayed in nature’s simplest 

charms as to stir the fountains of those early, deep remembrances 

that turn all pur past to pain. The amotional technique of the whole 

poem is explained by this couplet: 

The Deserted Village ends with an address to Poetry, not only 

affecting for the solemnity of its personal allusion, and pleasing to 

the reader for the smooth current of its versification, but 

remarkable as displaying the virtuous enthusiasm of Goldsmith, and a 

generous declaration of what was his notion concerning a poet’s duty, 

and the influence of his art on mankind: . . . 

Goldsmith’s Deserted Village necessarily delighted every one at 

that grade of cultivation, in that sphere of thought. Not as living 

and active, but as a departed, vanished existence was described, all 

that one so readily looked upon, that one loved, prized, sought 

passionately in the present, there is a peculiar charm about the 

poetry of Goldsmith. It is due not a little to the personal quality of 

his writing. With perfect justice he is described as one of the most 

subjective of English writers. 

2.5 Pathos in the Deserted Village 

Goldsmith was always a champion of the poor and 

the downtrodden. His heart overflowed with pity for 

suffering humanity. There is nothing for which he 

cursed himself so much as for his inability to help 

the miserable people around him. In The Deserted 

Village we find him in numerous places referring to 

the woes that poor people have to suffer at the hands 

of the woes that poor people have to suffer at the 

40


hands of the callous rich. The poor are no longer 

wanted in the country. The humble peasants are 

driven away from the soil which has sustained them 

for generations, to face the horrors of a new 

country. 

The Deserted Village given us also a glimpse 

into the poet’s heart, revealing to us his intense 

passion for poetry. At the end of the poem, in a 

voice quivering with emotion, he confesses that it is 

poetry that has sustained him through a life of care. 

More than the normal share of sorrows has fallen to 

his lot. If he has not been crushed by their weight, 

he owes it only to his love of the Muse. With the 

solace that poetry can offer him, he knows he need 

never despair. 

Some may be tempted to judge of Goldsmith’s 

character rather harshly because, in hid eagerness to 

defend the poor, he is too stern in his condemnation 

of the rich. Thoroughly ignorant of the economic 

conditions of the times, he ascribes the depopulation 

of the village, to the accumulation of wealth and the 

baneful passion for luxury among the rich. It has 

been pointed out that the misery and depopulation he 

laments are more imaginary than real. Goldsmith, 

however, should not be misunderstood on this point. 

He sincerely believed in what he wrote and was quite 

convinced that the reasons for the misery of the 

people were what he represented them to be. 

41


Whatever his faults, Goldsmith is seen in this 

poem as an extraordinarily lovable character. We see 

him here in all the pathos of his life. His 

sufferings have lent a sweetness and grandeur to his 

personality. His infinite love for humanity 

enshrines him in the hearts of all readers. No one 

can read through the poem without knowing the author 

and loving him. 

2.6 Goldsmith’s use of contrasts 

It is well recognized that an effective us of 

contrast always contributes to the fascination of a 

poem. Goldsmith realised this very well, and has 

abundantly used this device in many of his poems. 

That Deserted Village stands out prominently among 

his works in this respect because Goldsmith has 

exploited to the fullest extent all the beauty that 

the use of contrasts can confer on a poem. 

Though the main contract in the poem is between 

Anburn in the days of its glory and Anburn in 

desolation there are a number of other picturesque 

and beautifully contrasted details. Goldsmith speaks 

of a time in England when every man in the land had a 

small estate which he could cultivate for his own 

sustenance. Those times are gone and the rich 

landlords with the passion for grabbing everything 

they can lay their hands on, buy up all the land in 

42


order to convert it into a beautiful park or pleasure 

garden. 

Another interesting contrast which is suggested 

and maintained throughout the poem, is the 

conventional antithesis between city and rural life. 

In the case of Goldsmith, this was not a mere poetic 

convention. The earlier years of his life had been 

spent in a beautiful little village, and long absence 

from it had idealised it and enshrined it in his 

heart. From personal experience in later life, he 

knew the misery and the sickening horrors of city 

life. 

The contrast therefore is remarkably vivid. 

Goldsmith paints all the charms of rural life and 

contrasts these with the loathsomeness and ugliness 

of existence in a city. In a passage which burns 

with earnestness and overflows with the very essence 

of poetry, he tells us that many of the adventurers 

from the village would have been far more happy, if 

they had never left their homes in search of fortunes 

in the city. He speaks of the misery of young women, 

who were tempted out of their homes to enter the 

wickedness of life in a city. He pictures their 

misery after they have been betrayed, and contrasts 

this with the joyous and beautiful life they might 

have led, if they had stayed on in their own homes. 

Many more instances of the effective use of 

contrasts can be cited, for the poem is filled to 

43


repletion with them. These, however, are the more 

important of the contrasted pictures, and they can 

serve to illustrate the excellent use to which the 

poet has put them. 

2.7 Nature descriptions in the poem 

The eighteenth century in English poetry has 

acquired a sort of notoriety for the poverty of its 

Nature description. No neo-classic poet seemed 

capable of drinking in the pure and fresh joy of 

Nature. All the poets of the time contented 

themselves with descriptions of urban beauties and 

amenities. Poetry seened to have left the meadows and 

the hills and taken shelter in the stuffy atmosphere 

of a drawing room or coffee house. Where Nature 

poetry was attempted on rare occasions, it was an 

extremely conventional kind. There was no joyous 

impulse emanating from a genuine passion for what is 

beautiful and fascinating a Nature. The greatest 

poets of the time were content to sing the pleasures 

of city life. If Nature description became necessary, 

they just employed a few conventional poetic phrases 

to picture a lovely but artificial Arcadia, entirely 

remote from ordinary life. 

Goldsmith, though he belongs to this school of 

poets, often strikes out a new path for himself. In 

the main his Nature descriptions too are 

conventional. Oftentimes, one may be inclined to 

accuse him of employing cold and conventional phrases 

44


to describe the ever-changing beauty of Nature. In 

The Deserted Village, however, the poet has largely 

succeeded in giving us pictures which are real and 

living. The rural paradise that he portrays in sweet 

Auburn, is not at all like the conventional Arcadia 

described by the poets of the time. It is a picture 

of a real village, though it has been considerably 

idealized. For purposes of poetic effect, the beauty 

has been willfully exaggerated, but there is nothing 

fundamentally false about it. In spite of the 

exaggerations, it rings true. 

The descriptions of Nature in this poem, though 

conventional in the main are oftentimes remarkably 

beautiful. Goldsmith felt all that he said, and if 

sometimes he is wrong, he has at least the excuse 

that he is never insincere. Nature of course is not 

presented on its awful and impressive moods. Nature, 

as it might be seen in a real village, is described 

vividly enough. Goldsmith must have been a shrewd 

observer, for he is often able to give a beautiful 

and complete picture. In may be said that no other 

poem of the age, with the exception of Gray’s Elegy 

in a County Churchyard, has given such a lovely and 

realistic account of Nature in the countryside. 

2.8 The character of the village preacher 

The description of the parish priest would have done honour to 

any poet of any age: . [lines 137-92]. The preacher is a composite 

portrait based on the poet’s father brother Henry Uncle. The death of 

Goldsmith’s beloved brother stirring him to the depths of his being, 

urged him to compose the poem. 

The village preacher is a compound of manifold virtues. The 

45


preacher makes Christian virtue appear worth striving for. He is a 

portrait of complete humanitarianism. He was dear to all the country 

and reasonably well -off by contemporary standards his life style was 

austere. Remote from towns he ran his godly race and never had 

changed nor wished to change his place. He was not used to fawn or 

seek power . His doctrines were most suitable for his time. 

The preacher’s teachings were so shaped as not to offend 

influential church- goers by drawing attention to the abuses 

prevailing among them. He held other aims as precious and skilled to 

“raise the wretched”. His house was known to all the ‘vagrant train’ 

the endless procession of beggars whom he checked from aimless 

wanderings and relieved their pain “the long remembered beggar was is 

guest. “The ruined spendthrift” now no long a proud was one among his 

kindred. The broken soldier disabled by wounds and therefore 

condemned to penury, was bid to stay and sit by his fire and talk all 

through the night about his wounds are tales of sorrow, and the 

battles that were won. 

The village preacher was pleased with his guests and was 

thrilled listening indulgently to them. 

“He quite forgot their vices in their woe, 

Careless their merits or their faults to scan, 

His pitty gave ere charity began” 

The parson’s heart went out to the poor man at once and then 

his hand went into his pocket, “thus to relieve the wretched was his 

pride” . By helping all indiscriminately he may have been unwittingly 

encouraging laziness, imposture. This would be a defect Another would 

be his conniving at the spendthrift’s lie and his giving away more 

than his income. But these foibles were misguided virtue and hardly 

blameworthy. 

The parson is compared to a knight fighting stoutly on the 

dying man’s side. When the church service was over. The villagers 

eagerly danced attendance on him. The children used to pluck his 

sleeve to make him turn round and to catch his eye. The parson was 

not so occupied with spiritual contemplation as to forget the earthly 

needs and hardships of men; nor was he worldly and forgetful of 

ultimate spiritual ends. His feet were firmly planted firmly among- 

practical concerns, while he was basking in the sunshine and serenity 

of celestial visions. The broad-based mountain is so high that the 

46


rough winds of the upper atmosphere sweep round the middle of it and 

the parson’s piety was equally lofty. Trembling pupils filled with 

anticipations of punishment, when they did something wrong from his 

cheerful or sullen look when school assembled, the pupils could 

predict whether the day would be full of misfortunes or without them 

a very natural touch like the others in this portrait. A 

schoolmaster’s jokes are often dull, but his pupils laugh just to 

please him. His warning was slyly and quickly circulated. The simile 

of the bird teaching her young to fly, and of the mountain that rises 

above the storm, are not easily to be paralleled, and yet the 

construction of the last is not perfect. As, in the first verse, 

requires so, in the third, either expressed or implied: at present 

the construction is, 'As some cliff swells from, the vale, sunshine 

settles upon its head, though clouds obscure its breast.' 


The objects of a village-evening, which affect the mind of a 

susceptible observer, are very warmly and beautifully described. The 

character of the worthy parish priest of the village is a master- 

piece; it makes a sacred and most forcible appeal to the best 

feelings of the human heart. Goldsmith deserves the highest applause 

for employing his poetical talents in the support of humanity and 

virtue, in an age when sentimental instruction will have more 

powerful influence upon our conduct than any other; when abstruse 

systems of morality, and dry exhortations from the pulpit, if 

attended to for a while, make no durable impression. 

2.10 Lesson – End Activities:- 

1. Comment on the style and technique of the Deserted Village. 

2. What is the role of the Village’s School Master? 

3. What are the memorable features of the Auburn Village? 


· Baugh, Albert C. ed. A Literary History of England Vol. II. 

London : Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd., 1967. 

· Legouis, Emile et. al., A History of English Literature. 

London : J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd., 1926 rpt., 1965. 

· Hudson, William Henry Outline History of English 

Literature. 1961 : rpt. Bell & Hyman Ltd., 1988. 

47


· Saintsbury, George A short History of English 

Literature. 1898; rpt. London : Macmillan & Co. 

Ltd., 1960. 

· Rpissaeau, G.S. Goldsmith: The Critical Heritage London, 

Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1974. 

48


Contents 



3.2 Milton’s life and works 


JOHN MILTON 

PARADISE LOST 

3.3 The theme of paradise lost 

3.4 out line of paradise lost 

3.5 general characteristics of milton’s poetry 

3.6 style and versification 

3.7 Characteristic features of an epic 

3.8 Paradises lost as an epic 

3.9 Character of satan 

3.10 Let us sum up 

3.11 Lesson – end activities 



This lesson will through a light on John Milton’s Paradise Lost 

besides explaining the life and various works of Milton. You will 

acquire, after reading this lesson the theme and outline of Paradise 

Lost, General Characteristics, Style and Verification of Milton 

Poetry. 


The England of Milton and Bunyan was born on 

December 9, 1608, at Black Spread Eagle Court, in 

Bread Street. Thus was Puritanism nourished in the 

very bosom of the Renaissance. Puritanism began with 

Ben Johnson, though it found its greatest poetical 

49


exponent in Milton, its greatest; prose exponent in 

Bunyan. 

Two influences contributed especially to the 

moulding of the England now under consideration. The 

first is the influence of the great dramatists and 

the second influence is that of the Bible. The 

Scriptures, hitherto reserved for the select few, are 

now spread broadcast for men and women to consider 

_and expound for themselves. Anyone who wished to “ 

purify “ the usages of the church was called a 

Puritan. 

Puritanism turned Milton’s thoughts from such 

subjects as the Arthurian Legend. His epic genius 

found perfect expression in the Biblical story of the 

Fall of Man. Nothing is more characteristic of the 

poet than the arduous mental development he 

deliberately set before himself in order to grapple 

with his task. The earlier years of his life were 

spent in hard study and preparation ; then for a 

while he plunged into fierce political controversy 

in the cause of civil and religious liberty ; 

finally, in the last years of his life he gave us, as 

the fruit of his mature genius, Paradise Lost, 

Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes. 

Possessing a sense of beauty, as keen though 

less unrestrained than that possessed by the 

Elizabethans, Milton’s devotion to form and coherence 

separates him from the great Romantics, and gives to 

the beauty of his verse a delicacy and gravity all 

its own. Nowhere is this quality of beauty better 

50


displayed than in the early poems, in L’Allegro, 

Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas. They have all the 

freshness and charm of youth, and exhibit tho lighter 

and more fanciful side of Milton’s genius. 

With this sense of beauty is combined a 

stateliness of manner which gives a high dignity to 

Milton’s poetry, that has never been surpassed, and 

rarely equalled in our literature.Milton “strengthens 

blank verse without cramping it; he gives it grace, 

and rounds off with finished care the single line 

without ever sacrificing the organic unity of the 

entire poem. He is like a great organist who, while 

never losing sight of the original melody, adorns it 

with every conceivable variation which serves to 

exhibit, in place of obscuring, the freshness and 

sweetness of the simple theme”. 

3.2 Milton’s Life and Works 

Milton was born on December 9, 1608 at Black 

spread Eagle Court, in the Bread Street. In 1641 

Milton married Mary Powell, the seventeen-year-old 

daughter of a Cavalier gentleman residing in 

Oxford shire. This marriage was not a happy one 

from the first ; the change from a life of youthful 

gaiety to that of the companionship of an austero 

Puritan student so many years her senior was not 

congenial to this young girl, and on visiting her 

father’s house shortly after their marriage she 

refused to rejoin her husband. Milton, was 

pursuing divorce however, in 1645 a reconciliation, 

took place, and seven years later his wife died, 

51


leaving him with three small daughters. In 1656 

he married Katharine Woodcock, who died the 

following year. His third wife, Elizabeth 

Minshull, chosen for him by his friend Dr. Paget, was 

but twenty-five when she linked her life with that of 

the blind poet in 1663, and lived for fifty-three 

years after his death. 

In 1645 Milton found a more spacious dwelling in 

Barbican, which two years later he leaves for a small 

house in High Holborn, near Lincoln’s Inn Fields. 

During the whole of tho period from 1639 to 1649 he 

devoted himself almost entirely to politics, and what 

he believed to be the call of duty to his country. 

Then, in 1649, came the offer of the Latin 

Secretaryship. 

Milton’s chief duty was to translate foreign 

despatches into “ dignified Latin.” At first 

he had rooms in Whitehall, but subsequently moved to 

another “ pretty garden house “in Westminster. This 

house became No. 19 York Street, and is associated 

also with the names of Bentham, , James Mill, and 

Hazlitt. It no longer exists, having been 

demolished in 1877. Blindness made his duties 

difficult, and rendered assistance imperative. Among 

those who helped him in the discharge of his duties 

was Andrew Marvell. Milton served through the 

Protectorate. 

At the Restoration he was arrested, but 

subsequently released on “ paying his fees.” He 

lived quietly and frugally at Artillery Walk, Bunhill 

52


Fields—blind, infirm, and weary, but unchanged in 

resolution formed years before. The resolution found 

expression in Paradise. Lost, begun in 1638, finished 

in 1604, and published three years later. Milton was 

offered by his publisher the munificent sum of “ five 

pounds down, five pounds more upon the sale of each 

of the first three editions.” Ten pounds in all 

came into the poet’s hands in 1669. After his 

death the copyright was sold by his, widow 

for about eight pounds more. 

Paradise Regained was published also the same 

year. Among his many other works may be mentioned 

those relating to The Doctrine and Discipline of 

Divorce, 1643 ; The Four Chief Places of Scripture 

which treat of Marriage, 1645 ; in 1644, his great 

prose work, A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed 

Print-ing : previous to this, while living at Horton, 

near Windsor, he wrote L’Allegro and II Penseroso, 

1632; Arcades, 1633; Comus, 1634; and Lycidas, 1637. 

In addition to hia blindness he suffered from chronic 

gout. After months of ill-health, “ the gout struck 

in.” He died on November 8, 1674, and lies buried in 

St. Giles’, Cripplegate, beside his father. 

3.3 THE THEME OF PARADISE LOST 

The problem of Evil is handled in Paradise Lost 

in traditional Christian terms. God has created some 

men and angles free to choose or not to choose his 

service. When they do choose, they choose what is 

also their own highest good; when they do not they 

choose something less and anything less is evil. 

53


For evil in Christian thought lacks positive 

existence; it is simply a falling below the highest 

good. This is what Milton’s Satan and other rebels 

have done. They to turn away from God’s will, their 

highest good, to seek their own will, a lesser good. 

Satan and his followers have forgotten that 

they’re only creatures and aspiring to rule they 

tried to become like God. Inevitably they land up in 

hell because what they have done is precisely, in a 

spiritual sense, the Christian definition of hell. 

The preference of one’s own will to God’s. 

Inevitably, too, their own will does not prevail. 

The only change is that now they serve God’s purposes 

involuntary instead of freely. 

One thing, however they can do, and that is to 

seduce some other creature who enjoys the liberty of 

choosing between God’s will and his own to choose the 

latter and join them in their ruin. Hence they set 

to work on man. 

Even here the triumph is short lived, for 

though they can make man fall, God, to defeat and 

disappoint the frustrates them by Himself becoming a 

man who does not fall but rise. The sin of Adam, 

with the inheritance of evil is made good by Christ, 

who, though he is tempted like Adam, resists and 

though he dies like Adam is resurrected. 

Paradise Lost proves that inspite of Adam’s 

fall man can still be saved by Christ. The original 

temptation in the Garden to includes the whole of 

human history till the day of Judgement. 

54


3.4 OUT LINE OF PARADISE LOST 

Milton is conscious of his more important 

subject, man’s disobedience to God, and his more 

noble purpose, to justify the ways of God to man. 

The subject of Paradise Lost is announced at the 

beginning of Book I; it is “Man’s first disobedience” 

and the consequent loss of Paradise. In the first 

twenty-six lines Milton states his whole subject 

matter and asks the aid of the heavenly Muse, who 

gave Moses the Ten Commandments and inspired him, 

Milton thought, to write part of the Old Testament. 

Milton’s subject is man’s disobedience to God and the 

consequent loss of Eden. It is man’s first 

disobedience, implying that others are to come, and 

it is a serious wrong, because it is disobedience to 

God’s command. 

Milton invokes his heavenly Muse, the 

same Holy Spirit that gave Moses the Ten Commandments 

on Mt. Sinai, to help him rise above pagan epic poets 

of the past and justify the ways of God to man. The 

prime cause of man’s fall is Satan, formerly an 

angel, whose pride caused him to war against god and 

to be thrown out of Heaven and whose envy of man and 

desire for revenge on God caused him to deceive Eve 

and help bring about the fall of Adam and Eve. 

Having stated his subject quickly, 

Milton follows the classical epic formula of 

beginning in what he calls “the midst of things” and 

turns our attention immediately to Satan, who is 

55


pictured soon after he has been thrown out of Heaven 

with the other rebel angels because of his revolt 

against God. Milton knows that evil is attractive 

and, Satan the fallen angel, still has some of the 

qualities and virtues of Heaven, except that they 

have all been perverted. Most of what he says are 

lies, a fact which a good Christian reader of 

Milton’s era should be have known, but which 

frequently deceives the modern reader. God has 

created Satan, but Satan has revolted against his 

creator, and hence cut himself off from God; before 

he revolted he exercised free will; now he acts only 

by God’s permission (210 – 220) 

Satan is seen just after he his fellow 

rebel angels have been hurled down into Hell, a place 

of fiery torment but no light. Chained on the 

burning lake, he speaks to his next highest comrade, 

Beelzebub, lying beside him. Satan is struck by the 

horrible changes is Beelzebub’s appearance caused by 

the Fall, but he still defies God and refuses to 

repent. He even claims to have shaken the throne of 

God, which we find out later is a lie. (I, 105; VI, 

834; VII, 585-586). He refuses to serve God, whom he 

calls a tyrant. But while he boasts in this way, the 

poet says, he is inwardly tortured by his own 

despair. 

Beelzebub asks Satan what they should 

do against God’s all-powerful force, and Satan 

answers proudly that they should be do everything 

within their ability to pervert God’s will. Having 

been permitted by God to “Heap on himself damnation,” 

56


and having been allowed to move, Satan flies by means 

of his wings from the burning lake to plain, 

believing he is doing so on his own power. Surveying 

the doleful surroundings, Satan decides it is “Better 

to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.” Although the 

other fallen angels lie “groveling and prostrate” on 

the lake of fire, Satan calls them to arms, 

addressing them by their angelic titles. They come, 

looking like the biblical plague of locusts. 

Among them are Moloch, who later became 

a pagan god to whom children were sacrificed, and 

other heathen gods and goddesses such as Astarte, 

Orus, Dagon, Isis and Osiris. Belial, a lewd and 

grossly sensual devil, is last among them. Satan 

rallies them with high sounding words and they appear 

to be a large and glorious army. Satan feels a huge 

pride in his troops of demons, which makes him forget 

for the moment of despair, he addresses, them, 

calling them to war, if not against, God, then 

against God’s new creation, man. 

A council of war should be called, he says. 

They respond with a shout of defiance against God. 

Mammon then leads a group of fallen angels to dig 

into a volcanic hill for molten metal and erect 

suddenly and by magic what looks like a temple, but 

is really Pandemonium, the capitol of Hell, designed 

by the demonic architect, Mulciber. With their 

rustling wings the devils appear from a distance to 

be like a swarm of bees as they go into Pandemonium 

to consult over the method of war against God. 

57


3.5 General Characteristics of Milton’s Poetry 

The supreme quality of Milton’s poetry is 

sublimity which is characterised by dignity and 

stateliness. His poetry exercises an elevating 

influence on the mind of the reader. The subject 

matter is sublime dealing with God, Satan and other 

serious themes. In Comus he presents sublime 

thoughts concerning virtue. In Paradise Lost and 

Paradise Regained he has dealt with sublime themes on 

God and religion. The chief characteristic features 

of Milton’s poetry is his profound love of beauty. 

He is deeply sensitive to the beauty of eternal 

nature. With this sense of beauty, is combined a 

stateliness of manner which gives a high dignity to 

his poetry. The poet never stoops down at any stage 

just to satisfy the tastes of the lower public. 

The subject that he chooses for his composition 

are stately. The treatment that he gives them equally 

in conformity with the subject matter common objects 

doubt form the subject matter common objects do not 

form the subject of his poetry. His themes are far 

removed from the trivialities of life. The problems 

are of external interest and his genius can find full 

scope in dealing with grand themes, such as the 

problem of man, the redemption of humanity by Christ 

and of the way of God to man. 

Milton writes as a conscientious artist. 

‘Poetry has been by far are the greatest artistic 

achievement and Milton is by far the greatest poetic 

artist. 

58


Milton’s imagination is noteworthy. Only a man 

of Milton’s imagination create could have a world of 

heaven and hell which could be been possibly only by 

his imagination. He soars above time and space. 

Milton’s poetry proves his suggestive power. 

Lander is of the opinion that Milton is the 

noblest specimen in the world of eloquence, harmony, 

and genius. Arnold thinks that Milton’s blank verse 

is the flawless perfection of rhythm and diction. 

In loftiness of thought, splendour and dignity of 

expression and rhythmic felicities, Milton has peers 

but no superior. 

3.6 Style and Versification 

Paradise Lost is a poetic rendering of the 

story of the fall of man No epic poet was a master 

of such a variety of styles as Milton, and the 

variety with which he could use the English heroic 

verse without rhyme. The variety controlled by the 

steady persistent momentum of his paragraph, the 

means of sound, and the refines of temper above all, 

that sense of fidelity, to an immediate experience 

which occasionally springs to action in scientific 

things are done so effortlessly and aptly. Clarity, 

force, and simplicity are some of the characteristics 

of his poetry. The diction, the prosody and the 

syntax, the subtle cooperation of the meaning and 

music are all of them tokens of an underlying 

permanence. The seven of the grand style as C.S. 

Lewis puts it, of Great there is no where better 

59


momentum which is no were better displayed than in 

the stately progress of Milton’s more immemorable 

similies. 

“Paradise Lost” says Dr. Johnson is a poem when 

considered with respect to design, may claim the 

first place, and with respect to performance, the 

second among the productions of the human mind.” 

These characteristic features raise Miltonts great 

height. 

The use of Rhythm visual imagination and form, 

are three note worthy characteristics Milton’s 

continuous effort at the sublime, the exceptional 

vivid pictures fill his poetry. 

The placing of the pauses, the rise and fall of 

the emotion, the high emotional charge in which the 

poet’s sense of dedication and of communion with the 

great biblical figures of the old testament is 

communicated, the supplecatory cadence of the appeal 

to have his darkness illumined and his mind elevated 

and the fine, powerful simplicity of the concluding 

statement of his purpose – all these represent poetic 

art of high order. 

The devices which Milton uses for sustaining 

the flow of his great opening passage are worth 

careful examination. It begins emphatically with 

simplicity, and amplitude of man’s to I disobedience. 

Which is developed, extended, modified, qualified, 

reconsidered in a great variety of ways, by the 

subordination of clauses, and the adroit use of 

conjunctions, prepositions and relative pronouns him 

60


to place the object of this opening sentence, the 

theme of the poem, which most at the beginning, the 

main verb does not come until the sixth line and when 

it does come it rings out the tremendous emphasis. 

Sing, heavenly music. 

Milton’s similies are heroic. He uses them to 

illustrate a familiar, universally accepted system of 

facts which external and prior to the mode of 

presentation. The thing said is not changed by the 

way of saying it, though when Milton has said what he 

intends to say, it is difficult to think of its being 

said better. 

Milton’s similies are sometimes digressive. 

This device, characteristically Homeric is used very 

specifically by Milton. Moreover when he introduces 

such similies, they usually serve to accentuate by 

contrast the superhuman grandeur of the events. 

The simile of the ‘Angels thick as autumnal 

leaves’ follows an epic description of Satan’s spear 

and shield. When the audience at the infernal 

council are compared to elves, the reader is better 

convinced of the stature of “the great seraphic lords 

and cherubim” huge “in their own dimensions like 

themselves. This tendency to heroic aggrandizement 

of the fallen angels is further straightened by 

Milton’s spacing the use of ‘Lowely imaging and by 

the comparative form of many of his similies”. What 

of was thought but never so well expressed perhaps 

the nine words that can be said of paradise lost. 

Paradise lost is a rich, profound and matured 

61


epic. It is a rendering of the story of fall 

illuminating some of the central paradoxes of the 

human situation and the tragic ambiguity of man as a 

moral being. No epic poet was a master of such a 

variety of styles as Milton and the variety with 

which he could use English heroic verse without 

rhyme. 

Paradise lost shows Milton as a Christian 

humanist using all the resources of the European 

literary tradition, that came down to him Biblical, 

classical, medival, Renaissance, pagan, jewish and 

Christian. Imagery from classical fable, and 

medieval Romance, allusion to myths, legends and 

stories of all kinds, geographical imagery and ideas 

from Milton’s own fascination with books of travel 

and echoes of the Elizabethan excitement. The new 

discoveries Biblical, history and doctrinal, and 

Rabbinical and patristic learning are found in this 

great synthesis of all that the western mind was 

stored with by the middle of the 1700. 

3.7 CHARACTERISTIC FEATURES OF AN EPIC 

This narrative poem involves heroic, even 

supernatural actions and characters sustained by 

tradition, implicated in the life and ways of people 

and enveloped in the aura of the unusual, the awful 

and the sublime, it narrates great actions and 

depicts characters in a great way. “It is a 

dispassionate poem recited in dignified rhythmic 

62


narrative of a momentous theme or action of fulfilled 

by heroic characters and supernatural agencies under 

the control of a sovereign destiny. 

“The epic as a narrative poem organic in 

structure, dealing with great characters and great 

actions in a style commensurate with the Lordliness 

of the theme which tends to idealize these characters 

and actions and to sustain and embellish its subject 

by means of episode in amplification.” 

The epic celebrates in the form of a continuous 

narrative, the achievements of one or more passages 

of history or tradition. The subject matter is 

generously derived from the “deeds of captains and 

kings and of fearful wards” According to Horace it 

is mainly concerned with the achievements of heroes. 

Sometimes as in the case of Milton, the epic poet 

concentrates on the edification of the readers. 

Milton considers olidictism as part of epic theme and 

so his epic poems convey ethical truths and exalts 

moral purpose. Milton is paradise lost justifies the 

ways of God to men. High seriousness is a part of the 

epic poem. Milton “was always conscious of himself 

as a chosen one destined to produce a mighty work 

which future generations would not willingly let die. 

The action of an epic is usually spacious and 

is worked out into majestic proportions. The epic 

plot is characterized by greatness of scope and 

majesty of incident. Because the epic is long, there 

is room for very great variety, the tragic, the 

instructive, the descriptive touches of humanity. It 

has plenty of time for digressions and descriptions. 

63


Milton’s description of the appearance and the shield 

and spear of Satan can be cited as an example. 

Unity is another feature of an epic. There 

must be organic action in epic as in tragedy. “There 

is always a single action in the epic poem though the 

poet is allowed to introduce innumerable episodes. 

Epic poetry in a sense is public poetry because of 

the choice of quality. The poet is not only writing 

to express his own thought and feelings but the 

thoughts and feelings of some large group or 

community. 

The theme of the epic is stated in the first 

few lines and followed by a prayer to the muse. 

Milton’s paradise lost begins with a clearly defined 

propositions and an invocation. W.J. Long remarks 

“It will be seen that this is classic epic not of a 

man or a hero but the whole race of man. 

According to Raliegh “Paradice Lost concerns 

itself with the fortunes, not of a city, or an expire 

but of the whole human race, is with that particular 

event in the history of the race which has moulded 

all its destinies. This epic theme has been 

presented by Milton in a stately manner. The 

splendors of heaven, the horrors of hell, the serve 

beauty of Paradise, the sun and planets suspended 

between celestial light and gross darkness are 

pictured with a lofty imagination. 

The poem rings with echoes from the memorable 

passages of the Bible, traverses the secret places of 

Heaven and Hell, and ransacks marvelous abstractions 

64


like sin and death. It attempts things unattempted 

in prose or rhyme. 

It is the grand style that Milton uses in the 

epic and “the language of the poem is the 

elaborated outcome of all the best words, of all 

antecedent poetry, the language of ode which lives in 

the companionship of the great and wise of all ages. 

The Homeric similie is used by, all epic poets 

and especially Milton. Satan’s comparison to a 

Leviathan can be quoted as an example. As an epic, 

Paradise Lost contains a number of thrilling 

episodes such as the mustering of troops, battles, 

devils, wanderings and ordeals. Like any other epic 

the poem is divided into many books. 

In every epic, a long and dangerous journey is 

made by the hero. Satan’s journey through the space 

(in Book II) is recalled here. As an epic story, it 

begins in the middle of the action. An epic poem 

devotes much space to the discussion of probability. 

Like a drama it should have probability, and within 

its larger bounds, things less probable can be made 

to appear probable. Thus in epic, we have probable 

impossibilities” rather than “improbable 

possibilities”. 

C.M . Bowra remarks that Milton made his epic 

theological. According to Herbet the story of the 

fall is merely the kernel around which Milton 

elaborates. This Paradise Lost, proves to be a great 

epic poem because it develops in artistic unity one 

great conception and abounds through out its course 

65


in daring flights of fancy into unknown regions. He 

proves the statement of Dryden that “epic is 

undoubtedly the greatest work which the soul of man 

is capable to perform.” 

3.8 PARADISE LOST AS AN EPIC 

Paradise Lost is by common consent an epic poem. The 

beginning of the epic shows the fallen angels in Hell 

beginning to recover from their defeat and 

prostration. Satan had tried to be like the most 

High because of which he was brought down to Hell. 

The speeches of Satan and his followers are 

magnificent in their way, “Miltonic” in the popular 

sense of the word; and they represent the 

attractiveness of plausible evil. If evil was never 

attractive there would be no problem for man. The 

descriptions of Satan’s regal state Book I is a 

magnificent evocation of all the barbaric splendour. 

As for the supposed nobility of Satan, it does 

not take a very close reading of his speeches to see 

that a self frustrating spite is his dominant 

emotion. Of course there are traces of true heroism 

in him. Milton is trying to point out that the best 

when corrupted, becomes the worst. 

Though, until very recently, critics have paid 

scant attention to the motivation of Satan’s 

rebellion, it must be clear that this motivation is 

of cardinal importance to Paradise Lost. A proper 

understanding of the rebellion of Satan is likewise 

essential to the whole philosophic meaning of the 

66


epic. When Satan summons his followers to council in 

the North, evil enters the cosmos. Satan’s action 

initiates the whole sequence of the expulsion of the 

rebel angels, the creation of man to take their 

place, the temptation and fall of man, and finally 

his regeneration by grace. So much depends on the 

motivation of Satan’s rebellion. 

After his expulsion from Heaven his sense of 

injured pride turns into hatred for those who, as he 

thinks, have humbled him and for all connected with 

him. It becomes his driving motive and takes on 

heroic air when it strengthens his will in defeat and 

makes him insist on carrying on the war. His plan 

for the corruption of man rises from his “deep 

malice”, and this grows greater when he sees the 

happiness of Adam and Eve and finds in it a “sight 

hateful, sight tormenting”. Satan knows that revenge 

recoils on him, but he is prepared to face it. His 

heroic spirit has finally disappeared and never again 

shows itself. Just as his appearance decays, so does 

his character, until he becomes wholly loathsome and 

even contemptible. 

The character of Satan is pride and sensual 

indulgence and also exhibits all the restlessness, 

temerity and cunning. Milton has carefully marked in 

his Satan the intense selfishness, the alcohol of 

egotism, which would rather reign in Hell than serve 

in Heaven. To place this lust of self in opposition 

to denial of self or duty, and to show what exertions 

it would make, and what pains endure to accomplish 

its end, is Milton’s particular object in the 

67


character of Satan. 

Around this character he has thrown a 

singularity of daring, a grandeur of sufferance and 

a ruined splendour, which constitute the very height 

of poetic sublimity. 

3.9 CHARACTER OF SATAN 

Satan is, of course, an important character in 

the epic. Sir Walter Raleigh, remarked that 

Satan’s “very situation as the fearless antagonist of 

Omnipotence makes him either a fool or a hero, and 

Milton is far indeed from permitting us to think him 

a fool. 

Satan was the first of created beings, who for 

endeavouring to be equal with the highest, and to 

divide the empire of heaven with the Almighty, was 

hurdled down to hell. His aim was no less than the 

throne of the universe; his means, myriads of angelic 

armies bright, the third part of the heavens, whom he 

lured after him with his countenance, and who durst 

defy the omnipotent in arms. 

The ambition of Satan was the greatest and his 

punishment was the greatest; but not so his despair, 

for his fortitude was a great as his sufferings. His 

strength of mind was matchless as his strength of 

body; the vastness of his designs did not pass the 

firm, inflexible determination with which he 

submitted to his irreversible doom, and final loss of 

all good. 

68


Milton stresses his enormous stature, his 

courage in defeat, his panoply and armaments and the 

music of his defeat, of his army. In this company 

Satan is a commanding and eminent figure. When he 

holds his “great consult”, he sits like an oriental 

potentate on his royal throne and controls the 

proceedings with masterful ability. Milton admits 

that he deserves his position; “Satan exalted sat, by 

merit raised to that bad eminence” (Book II, II 5-6) 

He is huge in size 

…… his other parts besides 

Prone on the Flood, extended long and large 

Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge 

As whom the Fables name of monsterous size 

69 

(Book I, II 194 – 7) 

The shield of Satan is as big as the largest 

round object imaginable like the moon, seen through 

the clarity of an Italian night-sky, and enlarged by 

a telescope. Elsewhere in Book I Satan is described 

as being like a Tower and like the Sun. With this 

last image, we can see the process of deterioration; 

He still carries traces of his former glories. 

…. nor appeared 

Less than Arch-angel ruined, and th’ excess 

of glory obscured. 

(Book I, 11 592-4) 

He is still like the Sun seen through morning 

mist “Shorn of his Beams”.


In the first two books Milton presents Satan 

as a war monger and a politician. His spacious 

arguments and diabolical urges to be active and 

militant rouse the fallen angels from their stupor. 

“Awake, arise or be forever fallen”, the terrific war 

cry of Satan goes like a clarion call to the benumbed 

angels and stirs them to action. 

In a clever and strategic manner he whips 

Beelzebub into rage telling him that” …. to be weak 

is miserable/ Doing or suffering” (Book I 11 157- 

58). Emphatically he utters that their mission is to 

create evil out of good. He has “a mind not to be 

changed by place or Time”. When he says “The mind is 

its own place, and in itself, / can make a Heaven of 

Hell, a Hell of Heaven. One is tempted to agree with 

him. When Satan says “Better to reign in Hell than 

serve in Heaven” (Book I 11263) one is forced and 

tempted to agree with him. When Satan says “Better 

to reign in hell than serve in Heaven” (Book I 

11263) one is forced to admire the love of liberty in 

him. Though Satan may be “vaunting aloud” in pain, 

his fiery utterance “what though the field…/ …. 

courage never to submit or yield” (Book I 11105 – 8) 

has often been equated with heroic temper and is oft 

quoted with characteristic admiration of him. 

Milton portrays Satan as a ruined Cathedral or 

a tower that still retains about it certain signs of 

past glory. These may look imposing even in their 

ruins. The glory is obscured, not altogether 

departed. He is like the Sun “new arisen” not 

possessing all that radiance, or like the sun in an 

70


eclipse. The archangel shines above all others even 

in the fallen state. He is full of dauntless 

courage. He is like the forest oaks and mountain 

tope stately but with their tops burnt. The picture 

that Milton gives of Satan in this passage is a 

mixture of brightness and darkness. 

One can find miss his intellect, reason and 

even sympathetic imagination, Satan confesses that 

God “upbraided none; nor was his service hard” but 

the disdained subjection and wanted to be rid of the 

burden of serving God. The obligation of being 

grateful to God was burdensome; He did not realize at 

that time that a grateful mind by owing did not owe 

anything at all. 

Very soon the realization comes to Satan that there 

is no redemption for him and that he is Hell. Hell 

is within him, around him and everywhere he goes. 

There is no escape from it. He bids farewell to the 

little good still lurking in him. “So farewell Hope, 

and with Hope farewell Fear / Farewell remorse all 

good to me is lost. 


You have so far understood John Milton’s life 

and works, the Gest of Paradise Lost, general 

characteristics, style and verification of Milton 

poetry, features of an epic and paradise lost as an 

epic. 

3.11 LESSON – END ACTIVITIES 

1. Write an essay on the Paradise Lost as an Epic 

71


2. Comment on the style and versification of Milton 

3. Sketch the character of Satire 

72



Milton John Milton Poetical Works, ed. Doughlas Bush. London: 

Oxford University Press, 1966 

Barker, E. Arthur Ed. Milton : Modern Essays in Criticism 1965; rpt 

London : Oxford University Press, 1968. 

Blamires, Harry Milton’s Creation: A guide through Paradise Lost 

London : Methuen & Co. Ltd. 1971. 

Daiches, David Milton. London : Hutchinson University, 1957. 

Lewis, C.S. A Preface to Paradise Lost. 1942, rpt London: 

Oxford University Press, 1975. 

Rudrwn Alan A Critical Commentary on Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ 

London : Mac Milan, 1966. 

Thorpe, James Ed. Milton Criticism: Selections from four centuries. 

London: Routledge & Keganpaul Ltd. ,1965 

73


Contents 



4.2 Out Line of the Play 

UNIT – II 


CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE 

DR. FAUSTUS 

4.3 Dr. Faustus as a Renaissance Play 

4.4 Dr. Faustus as Tragedy 

4.5 Mephistophilis 

4.6 The Comic Episodes In Faustus 


4.8 Lesson – End Activities: 



The main aim of this lesson is to introduce the Christopher 

Maslowe’s play Dr. Faustus with its outline and to project this play 

as a renaissance play, and as tragedy play besides explaining the 

comic episodes found in Dr. Faustus. 

4.1 INTRODUCTION: 

Marlowe is the father of the English drama, for he was the 

first to perceive the capacities for noble art inherent in Drama and 

he adapted it to high purpose by his practice. He saw that the drama, 

of the people, had a great future before it, and so devoted his 

energies to its perfection. Drama resulted from the fusion of most 

diverse elements. It was often confused and incoherent. He used the 

blank verse suggested to him by the classical drama, and by his 

practice of it made it a suitable medium for dramatic expression. He 

thus transfigured the form of the English drama. He was the first to 

74


construct a coherent plot. 

In Marlowe we find for the first time character-development. 

Faustus is a one-man play, in Edward II we find interplay of 

character. “Under his touch dialogue moved with spirit; men and women 

spoke and acted with the energy and spontaneity of nature.” He, for 

the first time gave, life-like characters who are not mere puppets, 

but who live their own lives., 

Marlowe raised the subject matter he drama to a higher level. 

He provided big subjects that appealed to the imagination. The 

insatiable spirit of adventure ideals of beauty; the .greatness and 

littleness of human life : were his subjects. Marlowe “took the blank 

verse of the Classical School, hard and unflinching as a rock, and 

struck it with his rod till the waters of human emotion gushed 

forth”. He gave a unity to the drama, hitherto lacking. Plays before 

had been formless : a succession, of isolated scenes often with no 

proper connecting link. He glorified the matter of the drama, by his 

sweep of imagination. He vitalised the manner and matter of the 

drama, by his energising power. He clarified and gave 

coherence to the drama. 

4.2 OUT LINE OF THE PLAY 

Doctor Faustus story is a dramatized story of the life and 

death of a medieval scholar, who sells his soul to the devil, in 

return for a life of, power and pleasure. The condition is that he 

should get sovereign power and sovereign knowledge by binding himself 

to the Devil, and thus be able to satisfy his appetites for twenty- 

four years. This power and knowledge are used by Faustus in playing 

practical jokes on the great ones of his day, the pope and the 

cardinals, and to make poor wretches • the butt of his magic. But the 

twenty-four years come to an end and Faustus has to keep his bargain 

with Lucifer. He tremblingly awaits death and hell. Till now Faustus 

has never called upon God, inspite of being begged over and over 

again by the good angel. But now in his last days, he^remembers God 

and cries in wail. It is too late now and Faustus' soul is taken away 

by the devils to hell. This is the tragical history of Dr. Faustus! 

Faustus, in his lust for power and knowledge, aspires to 

become a magician who would have everything at his command. He 

hires the services of Mephistophills, who is an agent of the devil, 

and is prepared to part with his soul to the devil, if and only if he 

75


will be the supreme one no this earth, if and only if he will be the 

supreme one on this earth and the sole possessor of all knowledge. 

He undertakes the most dangerous step of signing the bond with the 

evil powers for the supreme knowledge and sovereign power by which he 

could satisfy his appetites for the period of twenty four years. He 

knows fully well that eternal damnation will fall on him, but he 

cares only for the present life and does not even believe about the 

life hereafter. 

Faustus' manner and use of the magical power, to a great 

extent, reflect his transformed attitude toward power itself. He 

never gets the power he had ventured for. He deals with the "shadows, 

not substantial" things, to use his own description of the feat he 

performs. Faustus does not and cannot forget that he has no "real 

power", only shadow power. He does not "wall Germany with brass" or 

clothe school boys in "silk". The play comic scenes further 

reinforces and proves his knowledge that the Devil, will not impart 

'omnipotence' to man. He will be damned without having gained even as 

much power as the Devil's. The certainty and imminence of approaching 

death is known to remove its fear from such suffering souls. 

The tragic fall of Faustus gains more intensity with the close 

of the twenty-four years contract with the devil, each time he 

remembers God or thinks of repentance the devil threatens him with 

dire consequences. As eleventh hour of the last day strikes, he is 

in a state of extreme horror. He pleads with Christ to have mercy 

on him and wash him with at least half a drop of His precious blood 

shed on Calvary cross. But his heart is too hard to sincerely repent 

because he had deliberately sold his soul to the devil; it is mere 

remorse or sorrow for sin in view of the impending punishment. He 

regrets but does not repent. He is finally dragged away from this 

world in a state of deep anguish. Only the mangled remains of his 

body are gathered by a few young scholars of Wittenberg. 

For him, as for Marlowe, lowly birth is no bar to a university 

education, and as he sits alone in his study reading from the Latin 

text books he is linked in a common language with scholars from 

Oxford, Cambridge and all over the civilized world. Rhetoric, 

jurisprudence and medicine have trained a mind apt for questioning 

eager for learning, and reluctant to take on trust even the most 

elementary facts, let alone those hypothesis incapable of empirical 

proof. Faustus who refuses to accept from Mephistopheles the 

76


evidence for hell’s existence is true to type. His pitiful short 

sightedness is all too evident, but there is also a determination to 

believe only what he himself can prove. 

Marlowe’s hero Dr. Faustus is a man of humble birth who, has 

already established himself in the world of learning through his 

native abilities. This opening chorus is a cunningly contrived piece 

of stagecraft for it not only gives us in a nut shell the form of 

Faustus fortune good or bad but with that that freedom of movement 

through space and time which was second nature to the Elizabethan 

dramatist, concludes by zooming down on Faustus, at this moment, with 

the fateful choice still before him – ‘And this the man who in his 

study sits. This shuffling together of past, present and future 

gives some sense of the inevitability of Faustus progress to 

damnation while preserving inviolate the hero’s capacity to choose. 

By signing the bond with its ominous first clause Faustus is 

not all off from forgiveness. Yet the effects of sin in turning away 

from God, make it virtually impossible for him to accept the offered 

mercy. Repentance is all that is needed, yet to his dismay, he finds 

“My threat’s so hardened I cannot repeat [II, ii, 18) 

The devils are adept at picking the bubbles of human self- 

glorification, and Faustus’ pride is punctuated in his first 

encounter with Mephistopheles. Soaring, as he thinks, to the height 

of his power as conjurer laureate, he is jolted shapely back to earth 

by the friends casual admission that the conjuring was of no real 

import. 

“I came now hither of mine own accord”. [I, iii, 44] 

Repeated questioning of Mephistopheles brings no satisfaction. 

The devil can tell him only what he already know and, forbidden to 

speak the praise of God, cannot give him the answer he wants to hear. 

Faustus : “Now tell me who made the world?” 

Mephistophiles : “I will not” [II, ii, 67-8] 

His pride dashed, Faustus becomes increasingly aware of the 

emptiness of his bargain and the reality of damnation. The pride 

corned his human nature and aspired to become ‘a mighty god’ leads 

inevitably to its opposite despair. 

77


The play ends where it began, in the solitude of Faustus’ 

study. It is here that Faustus damns himself finally and 

irrevocably. He is never closer to repentance than in the moments 

after the Old Man’s speech with its renaissance. The man who has 

adjuced the scriptures, forsaken God, trafficked with the devil can 

still” call for mercy, and avoid despair [v,i, 61] But hell’s present 

physical tortures terrify him more than the thought of future 

damnation, and instead of withstanding the momentary agony he 

requests, instead the comfort of 

“That heavenly Helen which I saw of late, 

Whose sweet embracing’s may extinguish clean 

Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow [v,I, 90-92] 

Helen of Troy, twice passing over the stage, pausing for one 

brief moment yet speaking nothing, is the key figure in Dr. Faustus. 

For this Faustus has sold his soul. All the glory that was Greece, 

was embodied, for the Renaissance, in this woman; her story was the 

story in brief of another world, superhuman and immoral. 

Faustus, Marlowe combines medieval and Renaissance thoughts. 

The dramatist believes with Dante that the pursuit life has a 

bearing because it determines what eternal life will be. Faustus 

possesses a robust and experience personality. Marlowe builds the 

main tension of the play from the clash between Faustus’ Renaissance 

desire for the acquisition of unlimited knowledge and power and 

medieval dogma of the retribution which is inevitable to one who 

adopt evil means to gain such ends. 

Self-confidence is another trait in Dr. Faustus, as he has 

confidence in himself that he has the ability to master necromancy 

and achieve his goal. Once he has started, there is no coming back, 

only going forward to achieve his ambition. The others characters 

such as Valdes and Cornelius only strengthen Faustus’ confidence. 

Marlow has pictured Fausutus’ impatience with earthly 

limitations in the first soliloquy. Dr. Fausutus is impatient with 

the limitations of the branches of his study and this leads him to 

the study of magic and ultimately to his contract with the unearthly 

Mephistophilis. 

The spirit of adventure – both psychological and physiological 

78


led the inquiring mind of Faustus to the distant corners of the earth 

with the aid of Mephistophilis. Throughout the play the characters 

focus on the importance they attached to the worldly life. Faustus’s 

zest for life is brought out by Marlowe by his last minute acceptance 

of God in the face of damnation. “…………. A world of profit and 

delight, of power, of honour, of omnipotence” and to him, “a sound 

magician in a mighty God” And it was this element of Romanticism 

that.. a word derived from the word “Rome” – which meant “newness of 

ideas” -- that enkindled curiosity, traveling, adventures and 

exploration in the age. These elements moulded themselves into a 

dominant passion in the character of Faustus. 

To sum up, it can be said that as the whole play has its axis, 

the figure of Faustus, it is through him that in the play was 

introduced the Renaissance element. 

79


4.3 DR. FAUSTUS AS A RENAISSANCE PLAY 

The Renaissance heralded the birth of a new age in Europe. It 

tolled the death knell of the middle ages and unheard in a new era of 

bright hopes and rosy aspiration. The faint flickering rays of the 

Renaissance became visible in Europe quite early in the sixteenth 

century. It took time for the Renaissance spirit to reach England. 

But when the new light came, it cleared off the old colowels of 

ignorance and superstition and made the way clear for the diffusion 

of new thoughts and new ideals. Although the great Renaissance 

period, of ten somewhat inexactly called the Elizabethan age, came to 

be markedly original, its literature had its raise among a multitude 

of ancient and foreign influences. 

The Renaissance writers portrayed in their work all that was 

atheistically immoral and corrupt under the influence of 

Machiavelli. They persecuted man as being divine to find free and 

feel expansion of his thoughts. Marlowe’s heroes are after power that 

knows no limits and they seek it in different ways. Tamberline 

resorts to conquests, Faustus to black magic. Barabas to power that 

money can give, and Edward II to unhealthy pattern. 

Boundless in its aspirations, increasing in its complexions, 

the Renaissance mind is the theme of all Malow’s plays. Dr. Faustus 

although he is the first figure on the English stage who deserves to 

be called a character, is still less an individual than the epitome 

of renaissance aspiration. He has all the divine discontent the 

unwearied and unsatisfied striving after knowledge that marked the 

age in which Marlowe wrote. An age of exploration, its adventurers 

were not only the merchants and sea-men who sailed around the world, 

but also the scientists, astronomers, who surveyed the leavers with 

their optic glass and those scholars who traveled in the realism of 

gold to bring back tales of a mighty race of gods and heroes in 

ancient Greece and Rome. 

The diverse Renaissance elements that “Dr. Faustus” is filled 

in are individualism, self confidence, impatience with earthly 

limitations, a spirit of revolt, a love of beauty, enjoyment the 

object of life, the spirit of adventure both mental and physical, 

humanism, patriotism, awakening of people’s mind i.e. spirit of 

freedom, zest for life, romanticism, reformation, the measure of 

blankverse, and above all the longing for power and knowledge that 

may be considered the principle element. 

80


When the play opens Faustus stands at the frontiers of 

knowledge. The whole of Renaissance learning is within his grasp, 

but on closer scrutiny of the parts the whole crumbles away and he is 

left with nothing but a handful of dust. 

Faustus takes his first step along the primrose path when he 

sets material benefits before spiritual blessings. Contemplating 

magic, anticipating its rewards with Valdes and Cornelius, he 

promises himself all the glory and riches of the Renaissance world. 

From Mephistopheles he demands to “live in all voluptuousness” even 

before succumbs to the line of magic, his mind has been tempted by 

thoughts of wealth. 

“Be a physician, Faustus, heap up gold” [I, ii, 14]. Yet 

although this obsession with luxury is a flaw in the nature of one 

dedicated to the search for knowledge, its seriousness must not be 

magnified until it obscures the real issues. In the first soliloquy 

Faustus rejects the study of law, leaning it to the “……….. mercenary 

drudge who aims at nothing but eternal trash” All the gold that the 

doctor can heap [I, i, 34 – 5] up will not reconcile him to the 

limitations of medical skill, through whose aid he can restore only 

health, not life. And when, in an early agony of indecision, he 

weighs the profit and the loss, it is not riches that he puts into 

the opposite scale : 

“Have not I made blind Homer sing to me 

Of Alexander’s love, and Demon’s dealth? 

And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes 

With ravishing sound of his melodious harp, 

Made music with my Mephistophilis? 

With the help of magic, he has gained entry into another 

world, a world, later to be incarnate in Helen of Troy, which for 

exceeds the riches of all the Venetian argosies, Indian gold and 

Orient pearl. 

If the Renaissance mind was a flame with thoughts of the 

splendor of life and of the knowledge and power which were the means 

to its realization, it was also imbued with the knowledge that there 

flames were the flames of hell and that Faustus would have done 

better merely to wonder at unlawful things as the epilogue says, than 

81


to be enticed, 

“To practice magic and concealed acts” [I, I, 103] 

What is certainly far from easy but what can atleast be 

pointed to are the range and immediacy, the complexity and precision, 

of the local habitation. This tendency to identify the prophecies of 

astrology with astronomy, the realization of the pagan and sensuous 

delights of Helen and cussida with the empirical methods of 

investigating the natural world, was common enough in the Renaissance 

world. 

Renaissance was leased on the principle of ‘emancipation from 

the bondage of theology’ also. And Dr. Faustus in the play 

voluntarily frees himself from “the heavenly matters of theology,” 

says, “Divinity adieu” and turns his attention to “the metaphysics of 

magicians”. 

The Renaissance ideal dominated all the form plays of Marlowe. 

He presented ordinary men, whom he endowed with prodigious desires, 

almost impossible to achieve. They were dominated by a single 

passion, and the Marlowian heroes put up a tremendous struggle 

against adverse forces and fell fighting alone. And Marlowe’s Dr. 

Faustus is a typical Marlowian hero who stands alone. 

Another Renaissance element is portrayed through Dr. Faustus’ 

character as he, towards the end of the play requests Mephistophilis 

that he should see, the heavenly Helen. The sight of her fills him 

with wonder. He remarks, 

“Was this the face that launched a thousand ships 

And burnt the topless the towers of Ilium?” 

The very act or his wish to see, the face of Helen of Troy 

brings out the Renaissance love of beauty. Enjoyment is considered 

to be the object of life as Faustus himself uses the twenty four year 

span of his life, with the help of necromancy to enjoy his life to 

the full. All his actions were based upon this principle. Even the 

minor characters seemed to be intent upon enjoyment of life (e.g. 

Ralph and Robin) There is no moral code that governs them. 

Another features of Renaissance is the spirit of freedom, and 

as a result the writers of the age took liberties with grammar and 

syntax. And Marlowe’s plays are examples of the “blank verse, a 

82


speech rhythm, the mighty line of Marlowe”, which was perfected by 

him. Moreoever the play is persecuted directly in “soliloquy, a 

Renaissance theatrical convention. A feature of the Renaissance can 

also be seen in not introducing women characters. 

infinite’. 

Faustus has the genuine Renaissance passion for ‘knowledge 

Faustus is completely devoured by the desire to enlarge his 

knowledge and go beyond the limits of the human mind and thus also 

exercise his power and authority everywhere. He desires for something 

greater than mortal knowledge and power and these cravings could only 

be satisfied through Black magic. He has a passion for omnipotence. 

With the newly acquired power of the magical art and with the 

devil’s agent waiting for him to obey his commands, helping him to 

meet his doom, much earlier, he assumes complete power over the world 

and its ‘Common people’. This sort of strong contempt for the ‘man 

of the Earth’ with his limited abilities was one of the main 

characteristics of the Renaissance man. Faustus is of humble birth, 

he also means to raise himself in life by sheer power of his 

knowledge. He craves for supreme knowledge and in order to gain it, 

he sells his soul to the devil for twenty four years of absolute 

power on this earth. His main aim is to practise more than what 

heavenly power permits. He aspires to become higher than anyone else 

and to gain complete mastery over God’s universe. He is so obsessed 

with the thought of grasping knowledge which is above human limits 

that it drives him to a sort of madness urging him to commit the 

grave error of signing the bond with the devil. 

Love for power makes him set material before spiritual 

blessings. Besides his maddening passion for knowledge infinite, 

there is in him, a lust for riches and pleasure and power. He wants 

to live luxuriously, lavishly, grandly and splendidly. With the help 

of the spirit he says: “I’ll have them fly to India for gold, Ransck 

the ocean for Orient Peal, and search all corners of the newfound 

world, For pleasant fruits and princely delicacies”. He has in him, 

the Renaissance love of beauty too. He is not satisfied with any 

ordinary woman but Helen is the one he would like to have. Helen is 

to him, a ‘paragon of perfection and excellence’, whose ‘face had 

launched a thousand ships’. He pays a glowing tribute to her beauty 

when her apparition rises before his eyes. He finds her form perfect 

and flawless. He wishes to gain a vision of this perfect face and 

83


pleads the vision to make him immortal with a kiss. 

Like the typical Renaissance man, Faustus has the intense 

awareness of the splendour of power, knowledge and sensation, and 

lives in a world, as did the Renaissance man, in which it was not 

possible to remain for ever unaware of the fact that there are more 

things in heaven and earth than what philosophy dreams of. Faustus 

was so intensely in love with the things of the world that he was 

willing to sacrifice his immortal soul to devil fully realizing that 

he was incurring eternal damnation upon himself. 

The first soliloquy is no man reckoning of accounts but an 

inventory of the Renaissance mind Faustus is one of the new Marlowe 

figures of the Renaissance ideals. His heroes are attached to beauty 

and unlimited power and knowledge. They appear brave and boastful 

endowed with aspiring power for good or evil. They are great rebels 

in their own right, as their creator himself was. His heroes are 

after power that knows no limit and they week it in different ways. 

Under the impact of Renaissance enthusiasm, Marlowe chooses imperial 

conquest as the most striking theme. 

4.4 DR. FAUSTUS AS TRAGEDY 

Marlowe had thus endowed .tragedy with a conception of 

character, and, in a more general way,, with the suggestion of 

unending possibilities of achievement. His conception of tragedy 

lies in this; his heroes-fight on to reach their goal of success : 

but in their attempt they fail and though they are killed, the main 

interest of the plays lies in watching them fight heroically. His 

conception of tragedy can be best found in his prologue to 

'Tamburlaine' : 

The character and personality of Dr. Faustus, his struggle to 

escape from damnation which he incurs as the price for his quest of 

knowledge, power, pleasure, and beauty which begins to acquire a 

tremendous interest of its own as the play advances, give a singular 

unity to the play. 

Faustus’ quest of his life is knowledge and power that knowledge 

gives. But he is not satisfied with all that he has won. He is now 

attracted to necromancy. He assets that this will give him power he 

aspires and mastery over all forces, material and spiritual. It is a 

damnable practice. And he is well aware of the risk he runs. But he 

84


desires mastery of the world above everything else, whatever the cost. 

This recklessness of spirit cannot but command admiration. It is the 

result of his liberated will and intelligence. 

The last scene is the most poignant scene in any drama. There 

is no escape for him now. He is frantic with despair. The first scene 

and the last scene are equally effective—and the last scene is most 

impressive. And there is nothing preposterous about the conclusion. 

The despair and final surrender of a human soul that defies sin in 

its quest of knowledge and power could not have been more tragically 

painted. The final solution is reached on the line of Christian 

theology. Marlowe has been true to the age in which he lived. 

Faustus explains the contract to the scholars. He passes his 

last night on earth alone, and goes to hell at midnight Frightened 

and regretful', Faustus greets his friends the scholars, explaining 

that he must shortly go to hell. He rejects their suggestions that he 

should repent, claiming that invisible devils hold his tongue and 

hands. The scholars withdraw to the next room to pray for him through 

the night. Faustus's long closing monologue concludes the scene, 

acting out the intense emotions of the last hour of his life in an 

anguished sequence of emotions and thoughts. These include: a desire 

for time to stand still; plans to call on God, frustrated by 

Lucifer's attacks; a fruitless desire to hide from divine anger and a 

list of places to hide; and a wish that he had not been born with a 

soul. 

In a paroxysm of fear in the face of the doubled vision of 

God's rejection and Lucifer's ferocious welcome, Faustus is escorted 

to hell. The hesitations about belief that have dominated the rest of 

the play are now completely cleared, and Faustus is well aware of the 

consequences of his contract. He no longer holds that 'hell's a 

fable' (Scene 5, line 127), or that only a comfortable pagan 

afterlife awaits him ('This word damnation terrifies not him, / For 

he confounds hell in Elysium' - Scene 3, lines 59-60). The pre- 

Christian thinkers whose words he earlier trusted are now seen as 

inaccurate: 'Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis - were that true, / This 

soul should fly from me' (Scene 13, lines 99-100). Extraordinarily, 

he is still divided over whether to repent or to follow Lucifer. 

Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, 

Which into words, no vertue can digest.” This love of beauty is also a Renaissance feature. So we find 

85


this first tragedy by Marlowe, saturated with the spirit of the Renaissance, 

4.5 MEPHISTOPHILIS acts as the agent of Satan. Faustus has direct 

dealings with Mephistophilis. When he signs away his soul to Satan, 

Mephistophilis is entirely-at the service of Faustus. All the wonderful 

things that are wrought by Faunus, are due to the help of Mephis- 

tophilis. The development of the action then partly depends on 

Mephistophilis. 

After Faustus has signed the bond Mephistophilis has got to 

defend the interests of his master. He serves Faustus all right 

and executes all his orders. Now the bond Faustus has signed, 

cuts both ways. Faustus commands the services of Mephistophilis, 

and that by virtue of the " pact; but the pact also gives 

Mephistophilis power over Faustus. Wherever Faustus rebels against 

Satan, Mephistophilis becomes his master at once and chains him down 

at once to obedience to Satan. 

4.6 THE COMIC EPISODES IN FAUSTUS 

The comic episodes in no way detract from the theme of the 

play Dr. Faustus Nor do they demean or damage Faustus as the 

protagonist of the play. The problems they cause are technical and 

artistic and need closer examination. "We have to agree that the 

"middle scenes of the play lack tragic and poetic intensity." 

However, they are part of the convention which mixed kings and clowns 

and sought to provide comic relief. In •this play, the comic episodes 

do not relate to the design of the play and are definitely a concession 

to the populist sentiment of the groundlings. 

The comic scenes of 'Dr. Faustus' deserve particular 

attention. The first comic scene which we come across with in 

the play, is where Wagner, Faustus's servant, meets a Clown The 

clown in the scene puns on words. The humorous element here is 

also supplied by the of the clown when he tries to fly from the 

devils critics reeardthe scene as an interpolation are the best 

evidence that Marlowe had to consider the groundlings, whose palates 

had to be pleased in this manner. 

The appearance of the Seven Deadly Sins-in Scene is also 

meant to serve as a comic relief. The scene all along is in a 

serious tone. But Marlowe was keen on deversifying the serious 

element by bringing in comic scenes. 

86


Such as the one where he where he expresses his contempt for 

the papal dignitaries and the churchmen. He makes Faustus play 

tricks on them and tries to evoke amusement. This scene is rather an 

expression of the satirical vein in Marlowe's mind. Such a spirit of 

satire was fostered by the Renaissance, which had liberated the minds 

of people, exposed the shams and hypocrisy of the priests, and 

enabled them to attack them. The portrayal of the realistic characters 

in Ralph and Robin is, however, significant. Another comic scene; 

where Faustus tracts the horse-courser. The pulling off of the leg of 

Faustus and other such incidents supply very cheap jokes. They can 

only please the groundlings. 

Robert Ornstein provides an insight into the synthesis of the 

comic and the tragic in Doctor Faustus : "Here is travesty of a high 

order ! ...the mighty Faustus parodies his own highvaulting thoughts 

and ambitions as Wagner and the Clown had parodied them earlier. Or 

more correctly, as Faustus changes shape the tragic-comic contrast 

begins to coalesce. Scene by scene the opposing images approach one 

another until at last we discover beneath the exalted appearance of 

the fearless rebel the figure of the fool. When, Faustus steals the 

Pope's cup and Robin steals the Vintner's goblet the tragic and comic 

images nearly merge. The difference between hero and clown is one of 

degree, not of kind." 

However, to equate the Clown's mocking about selling his soul 

for a "mutton roast" with Faustus' epicureanism would be stretching 

the point too far even though Faustus does spend, his last days in 

"belly-cheer" carousing with his students. What .integrates the comic 

scenes depicting Faustus' buffoonery with the tragic parts ultimately, 

I believe, is Faustus' own "'consciousness" that he has been cheated 

of a great time of his life by the Devil; that he had sought to be a 

superman overreaching the Devil but he has been befooled. 

Faustus does not find these flaws beyond defence and traces 

the degeneration and drooping of spirits that sets in, within the 

comic section also. He is aware of his tragic dimension as well as 

comic or foolish aspects of his-failed venture. According to Steane, 

these middle scenes, "illustrate the growing emptiness of the way of 

life Faustus has chosen." The wonder in Faustus' European travel, his 

enjoyment in the Vatican at the cost of the Pope "degeneiate" in the 

scenes with the Emperor, the fun being at its. lowest with the Horse- 

courser and without life in the Vanholt scenes. 

87


The play would have stopped at this point, so far as the 

tragic part is concerned, had Faustus, the Good Angel, and Marlowe 

himself shared Lucifer’s opinion as to the irrevocability of the 

compact. But there is still hope in the Good Angels comforting. 

“Fastus repent, yet God will pity thee”. [II, ii, 12] 

The appearance of the Seven Deadly Sins-in Scene is also 

meant to serve as a comic relief. The scene all along is in a 

serious tone. But Marlowe was keen on deversifying the serious 

element by bringing in comic scenes. 

Such as the one where he where he expresses his contempt for 

the papal dignitaries and the churchmen. He makes Faustus play 

tricks on them and tries to evoke amusement. This scene is rather an 

expression of the satirical vein in Marlowe's mind. Such a spirit of 

satire was fostered by the Renaissance, which had liberated the minds 

of people, exposed the shams and hypocrisy of the priests, and 

enabled them to attack them. The portrayal of the realistic characters 

in Ralph and Robin is, however, significant. Another comic scene; 

where Faustus tracts the horse-courser. The pulling off of the leg of 

Faustus and other such incidents supply very cheap jokes. They can 

only please the groundlings. 


Marlowe has been justly called, “the father of The.. English 

Drama’, “The Morning star...of the English Drama”, for he marks the 

end of the first period in the history of drama, and the beginning of 

the second over which he presides. His advent marks the end of 

medieval drama and the birth of the great Renaissance plays. He did a 

wonderful job for the development of English Drama. No wonder his 

contributions were great. 


1. Write an essay on Dr. Faustus as a Renaissance Play. 

2. What is the significance of the Comic episodes in Dr. Faustus? 

3. Comment on the last scene of Dr. Faustus. 

88



Marlowe, Christopher Doctor Faustus. Ed. Roma Gill et al., London 

: Ernest Benn Ltd., 1965 rpt., 1967 

Baugh, Albert C. ed. A Literary History of England Vol. II. London : 

Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd., 1967. 

Farnham, Willard. ed. Twentieth Century Interpretations of Doctor 

Faustus. London: Prentice – Hall, 1969. 

Jump, John D. ed. Doctor Faustus, Christopher Marlowe. New Delhi 

: B.I. Publications. 1975. 

Gill, Roma Doctor Faustus, London Ernest Bean Limited, 1965. 

Legouis, Emile et. al., A History of English Literature. London : 

J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd., 1926 rpt., 1965. 

Sharma, J.K. Christopher Marlowe. Doctor Faustus : A Criticism. 

New Delhi: Sterling Publications Private Ltd., 

1985. 

89


Contents 



5.2 Dryden’s Life & Works. 


JOHN DRYDEN 

All FOR LOVE 

5.3 Plot-Construction In “All For Love” 

5.4 Theme 

5.5 Mark Antony 

5.6 Cleopatra 

5.7 Octavia 

5.8 Ventidius 

5.9 Dolabella 

5.10 Alexas 

5.11 Style And Technique 

5.12 Features of Heroic Play 

5.13 All For Love as a Herioc Play 

5.14 High Tragedy 

5.15 Shakespeare and Dryden 


5.17 Lesson-End Activities 



This lesson is devoted for detailing all things about the “All 

for Love”; a classical work of John Dryden. 


The change from the romantic to the classical manner was 

already in evidence before Dryden was born. Dryden saw which way 

the literary wind was blowing, and set his craft cheerfully in the 

same direction. He gauged its possibilities and did brilliant 

things. He saw what kind of verse the people of his day wanted, and 

made it his business to give it them. It is quite clear from a study 

of his plays, how surely he was developing the qualities of ease, 

flexibility, and lucidity that he brought into English verse, 

particularly the satire. Then, at the age of fifty, after a 

90


prosperous career as a serious poet, and a dramatist, he suddenly 

became famous in the direction, where, after all, lies his especial 

claim on future generations, the field of satire. 

5.2 Dryden’s Life & Works. 

Born in 1631, in the little village of Aldwinkle in 

Northamptonshire, John was the son of its rector, the Rev. Erasmus 

Dryden, and Mary Pickering his wife, both of whom belonged to old 

county families with strong Puritan tendencies. There is 

scant record of his boyhood ; his early schooling appears to have 

been more solid than that usually imparted in country villages, for 

in writing to a friend a few years before his death he speaks of the 

pleasure with which he had read an English translation of the works 

of the Greek historian Polybius “ before he was ten years of age,” 

and that “ even then he had some dark notions of the prudence with 

which he wrote. Essay on Dramatic Poetry. 

Trinity College, Cambridge, has the honour of being his Alma 

Mater, which he entered in 1650, but two years later came into 

conflict with the Vice-Master for “ disobedience and contumacy in 

taking his punishment “—of the form of punishment we are left in 

ignorance. At Cambridge he also wrote some not very memorable verse. 

On leaving Cambridge in 1657, he came to London as secretary to 

Sir Gilbert Pickering, a kinsman of his mother’s and chamberlain to 

Oliver Cromwell, and we may imagine the young man was glad of the 

opportunity of adding somewhat to the small income of £40 a year 

which came to him on the death of his father three years before. His 

marriage in 1664 to Lady Elizabeth Howard, daughter of the Earl of 

Berkshire, brought another £100 a year to the family exchequer, but 

not a corresponding amount of happiness, the Lady Elizabeth lacking 

that strong and purposeful character so characteristic of her 

husband. 

Up to this time Dryden had done little to establish the great 

reputation that was subsequently to be bis. He had written some 

purely official verses in 1659, on the death of the Protector, which 

contrast oddly with his eulogy of Charles the Second on his 

coronation, in Astrcea Redux, the following year. His best efforts 

are shown unmistakably in hia early verses addressed to Dr. Charlton 

in 1663. 

91


The Wild Gallant (1663), The Rival Ladies (1664) Mac- 

Flecknoe, 1682 and Absalom and Achitophel are some of his works. 

Dryden’s literary significance is threefold, and is expressed in his 

prose, his dramas, and his verse. In this section we are dealing 

exclusively with Dryden the poet. 

5.3 PLOT-CONSTRUCTION IN “ALL FOR LOVE” 

In All for Love the scene is laid in Alexandria and does not 

shift elsewhere ; the action does not go beyond a single day. Within 

such limits he has to develop the theme of the play. The theme is a 

contest between love and honour in Antony. The preliminary talk of 

Serapion and Alexas in the opening scene forms the exposition. 

Antony is the theme of the conversation in the opening scene. 

The portents and prodigies to which Serapion refers seem to 

foreshadow the future developments which can only be disastrous to 

Antony. The Roman army is stationed in Alexandria, to be in action at 

any moment. It is a threat to Egypt. Antony has betaken, himself to 

the temple of Isis, and is a prey to black despair, and seems to be 

shunning Cleopatra. With the presence of the Roman army in Alexandria 

and the seeming concurrence of Antony in the situation, since there 

is no activity on his part, there is immediate danger to Egypt—it may 

be converted into a Roman province any day. 

Octavia, Antony’s wife, is trying to seek revenge, and Dolabella, 

once his friend, bent on accomplishing Antony’s ruin. Alexas asserts 

that Cleopatra still dotes on Antony, when she could saved herself 

and her kingdom by discarding Antony, and seems to be very much 

worried about the state of things. It appears as though nothing could 

be done to shape the destiny of Egypt. So, all the information that 

is needed to follow the action of the play is supplied in the opening 

dialogues. 

Ventidius is introduced as the man who has a strong hold upon 

Antony. Though Antony will receive no visitor, Ventidius presents 

92


himself before him. Ventidius proceed very cautiously and tactfully, 

reproaching him for his passive submission and indolence. He offers 

him the services of twelve legions so that he may fight again to 

recover his position. None but Ventidius could have handled him. 

Antony realizes that he has degraded himself by his sensual love for 

Cleopatra, and Ventidius is pleased to hear that he is even willing 

to leave Cleopatra. The sooner he does it the better. It is not yet 

too late to retrieve the position. 

The first Act opens with the dialogue between Serapion and 

Alexas, who prepare the audience for the future action of the play. 

The action of the play is confined to a single day and focuses on 

Antony who has sunk into despair, to rouse himself and fight his 

enemy at the door. Ventidius, Antony’s general, is brought in without 

delay into the presence of Antony; it is now only Ventidius who can 

draw him out of his inaction, and rescue him from his enslavement to 

dishonourable love. 

Alexas informs Cleopatra that Antony will have nothing more to do 

with her, but is going to fight and not even see her again. She is 

naturally upset. Losing Antony and is the greatest calamity to her. 

She is reproached by Alexas for her weak passion which is unbecoming 

of a queen. And she replies that she is no queen when she is besieged 

by the Roman Army, and when her country may be reduced to slavery at 

any moment. 

Absents weighs most heavily upon her. She is most unhappy because 

Antony would not see her again. Charmion whom she sends to Antony, 

returns to tell her that Antony is in the midst of his soldiers, and 

that he received her though Ventidius frowned at it, and that Antony 

would not rather see her if he could, and sends his respects to her. 

Alexas, Cleopatra’s adviser, Alexas next brings Antony a message from 

Cleopatra. It is an appeal to Antony’s men to stand by him and 

93


protect him from all dangers ; and with the message comes the gift of 

a bracelet for Antony. Ventidius is unable to check Antony. 

Alexas now sends an attendant to bring in Cleopatra. Antony when 

he sees Cleopatra again, remarks that hard fates are separating them. 

He charges her with having been obsessed with Caesar, while she was 

in love with him ; and reproaches himself for having wasted his time 

in lascivious love for her, for his infatuation for the raising of 

war by his wife, Fulvia, in Italy, and her subsequent death. He 

regrets his marrying Octavia to gain the friendship of Octavius and 

his repudiation of her for the sake of Cleopatra, his defeat at the 

battle of Actium at sea, for which he holds her mainly responsible, 

as she advised him to fight at sea while he wanted to fight by land. 

In fact, Antony blames Cleopatra for all that has happened in his 

life since his association with her Cleopatra replies to all these 

charges in effective and unambiguous, and at last produces a letter 

from Octavius, in which she is offered Egypt as well as Syria if she 

supports him. She has refused a kingdom for him; but that is not 

much. She will readily part with her life for him. Antony makes a 

complete surrender to Cleopatra: 

“Give, your gods, Give to your boy, your Caesar, This rattle of a 

globe to play, withal, This gewgaw world, and put him cheaply off. 

I’ll not be pleased with less than Cleopatra.” 

In the contest between love and honour, love routs honour. In the 

first Act when Ventidius argues with Antony, honour prevailes against 

love. To quote : 

Our men armed: Unbar the gate that looks to Caesar’s camp: I 

would revenge the treachery he meant me. 

At this stage, in him there is a conflict between love and 

honour. He explores if he can uphold his honour and redeem himself 

94


from degradation to which he has sunk by his infatuated and 

illegitimate’love for Cleopatra. 

The third Act introduces the celebration of Antony’s victory over 

the forces of Octavius. He is aware of the fact that Octavious will 

try his best to bring about his ruin and destruction. Ventidius is 

sure that Antony cannot redeem his position until he extricates 

himself from Cleopatra, so he brings in Dolabella. Antony still 

remembers Dolabella as estranged from him because he has betrayed his 

passion for Cleopatro. But he esteems him as his friend. Ventidius 

firmly believes that with the help of Dolabella he will be able to 

wean Antony away from the sinister influence of Cleopatra. 

Ventidius conceives, that there is no other way of saving Antony 

and restoring his honour which he has so miserably jeopardized by his 

surrender to the voluptuous love of Cleopatra. 

According to Dolabella, Antony betrays his sense of shame at his 

self-degradation, but he would deprecate any charge being made 

against the Queen (Cleopatra). One of the charges being that she had 

anything to do with the death of Dolabella’s brother. Antony refers 

to Dolabella being smitten with love for Cleopatra. Dclabella 

reiterates that Antony’s infatuation has cost him his legions, his 

honour and half the world he once ruled. He hints also that 

honourable terms have been settled for him with Octavius. This is 

followed by Ventidius bringing in Octavia and her two little 

daughters. 

So it is Octavia who has settled honourable terms to restore the 

honour of Antony. She convinces Antony that by the terms agreed upon, 

his honour remains unimpeached and his freedom remains unconditional, 

that he is even free to abandon his wedded wife Octavia. Octavia 

tells him that all that her brother seeks is Antony’s friendship, and 

.that if he likes, he may discard her, and she will not complain. 

95


Antony has no scruples about accepting that offer, when it seems to 

be dictated by Octavia’s duty, and not love as she does not mind 

being dropped by Antony if he is so inclined. Antony is not willing 

to be obliged to Octavia who does not love him. 

Octavia offers, her duty inspite of being injured and denied 

love. She says, 

Therefore, my lord, 

I should not love you, and adds, And therefore I should leave 

you, if I could. 

As result of a conflict in Antony, he is more than half inclined 

to yield to Octavia. He is torn between Cleopatra and Octavia. For 

his heart is overwhelmed with pity for both of them. Antony has a 

sorely distracted mind. At last, he cries out: 

I am vanquished: take me, 

Olivia, take me, children: share me well. 

I’ve been a thriftless debtor to your loves, 

And run out much, in riot, from your stock: 

But all shall be amended. 

This leads to the climax of the play. 

In the following interview between Cleopatra and Octavia in Act 

three, Cleopatra claims that her beauty attracted Antony who must 

have come to her after having grown weary of dull, tame domesticity. 

Octavia asserts that she is model of a virtuous modest wife set 

against the lasciviousness of a mistress. Cleopatra replies that she 

has no reason to be ashamed of charms that may please the bravest 

man, and claims that she loves Antony better, and deserves him more. 

And Octavia censures her for having been his ruin, and made him 

scorned abroad, and betrayed him at Actium. Cleopatra’s reply is: 

Yet she, who loves him best, is Cleopatra. 

If you have suffered, I have suffered more. And she has lost her 

honour, degraded her royal house—all to bear the branded name of 

96


mistress. Cleopatra puts up her ptea as strongly as Octavia. 

In the fourth Act Antony, instead of making his farewell to 

Cleopatra personally, sends Dolabella to do it for him. Alexas who 

bears a hand in all the affairs of Cleopatra, now sees that Cleopatra 

is going to lose Antony, suggests a plan to her. While Dolabella 

comes to say farewell to her on behalf of Antony, she should rekindle 

love in him who has a weakness’ for her, and thus she can win back 

Antony by rousing his jealousy. To this plan, Cleopatra agrees rather 

reluctantly. With a hint of encouragement from Cleopatra, Dolabella 

pours out his passion for her, and rather overdoes his part in 

misreporting Antony’s callous cruelty to her, and Cleopatra is very 

much upset. Then Dolabella goes down on his knees and recants, and 

speaks fairly of Antony and his attitude to her. He confesses: 

I, traitor as I was, for love of you. 

(But what can you not do, who made me false ?) 

I forged that lie, for whose forgiveness kneels 

This self-accused, self-punished criminal. 

Then he takes her hand—and it is all the reward he claims for the 

service he is going to render her. The scene is watched by Ventidius 

and Octavia. Ventidius misinterprets it to Octavia, as an exchange of 

love between Dolabella and Cleopatra. 

This is reported to Antony who will not at first believe it. When 

Alexas turns up, Ventidius catches hold of him, and tells him that he 

overheard Cleopatra making love to Dolabella and demands of him 

Alexas that he must not conceal the truth. Alexas’s confession is 

rather ambiguous. He first defends Cleopatra’s love for Antony, for 

when her beauty has attracted kings from far and near, she had chosen 

a Roman for’her love, and that Roman is Antony. Then he points out 

that due regard of honour now disposes her to renounce her claim for 

Octavia, though her heart may not have wholly altered. Then he 

defends his mistress if she were to turn her love to Dolabella. 

97


Antony bursts out in his passion when he hears this, and Octavia 

chafes within “for this extreme concernment for an abandoned, 

faithless prostitute.” Antony bids •Octavia to leave him. Octavia 

retorts: 

Wherein have I offended you, my lord, 

That I am bid to leave you ? Am I false, 

Or infamous ? Am I a Cleopatra ? 

Were I she, 

Base as she is, you would not bid me leave you: 

But hang upon my neck, take slight excuses, 

And fawn upon my falsehood. 

Now it appears that Octavia grows as jealous of Cleopatra as 

Antony of Dolabella. This is followed by the final break-off between 

Octavia and Antony. She leaves him never to return. She refuses to 

have a share in him with Cleopatra. Her last words are: 

So, take my last farwell, for I despair 

To have you whole, and scorn to take your half. 

This is again the end of Ventidius’s hope ever to rescue Antony 

from his enslavement to Cleopatra. And this works the anticlimax. 

Antony seems to be bemused by jealousy. The frankness and 

sincerity of both Dolabella and Cleopatra has no effect on Antony. 

Dolabella confesses that to his loving Cleopatra is a sin in him, but 

avows Cleopatra’s innocence, and Cleopatra confesses her inciting in 

Dolabella to win back Antony’s love. 

It is for Antony a farewell to love and friendship, and he cannot 

forgive them while he can forgive a foe. In this scene in which 

Antony dismisses his mistress and his friend, he shows himself at his 

worst, while Cleopatra shows herself at her best. Antony feels like 

relenting for a moment, but honour, he thinks now, triumphs: “I have 

98


a fool within me takes my part; But honour stops my ears.” It is 

jealousy that blinds him, when honour is out of question. 

The fifth Act, opens with Cleopatra, Charmion and Iras, soon 

joined by Alexas. Cleopatra curses herself, for doting on him, Antony 

which she cannot rid herself of even now. She brings out her dagger 

to kill herself but she is restrained. But she can, as she tells 

them, die inward, and her soul seems to struggle with all the agonies 

of love and rage. Then seeing Alexas she vents her wrath upon him. He 

diverted her from the path of plain and open love—and the result is 

her banishment and the removal of Octavia. She makes Alexas 

responsible for the calamity that has come upon her. Alexas still 

flatters her with hopes of winning back Antony’s love when Octavia is 

gone and Dolabella is banished, for jealousy with which he is now 

visited is the secret nourisher of love. He reports an engagement 

between the Egyptian fleet and Octavius’s which Antony has been 

watching at the moment. 

Serapion now enters and delivers the news that the Egyptian fleet 

has gone over to the enemy, and that Antony cannot but think that he 

has been betrayed, and warns Cleopatra to keep out of his way. Alexas 

offers to go to Caesar, and negotiate her safety. Clelopatra spurns 

this offer for it would be but betraying Antony. She would now listen 

to Serapion and not to Alexas. They leave Alexas, and he is anxious 

now to save his own life, and to think no more of Cleopatra or Egypt. 

Antony questions Alexas who tells him that Cleopatra had nothing 

to do with the desertion of the Egyptian fleet and that she had 

retired to her monument, and killed herself. Now, Antony fully 

believes in her innocence. 

Ventidius again urging him to fight, is of no avail. Antony 

replies that when his queen is dead and that he has valued his power 

and empire for her. Now that she is dead, let Octavius take the 

99


world. Rather than be captured by Octavius. Antony desires to die 

like a Roman, ie., kill himself. Ventidius offers to follow him to 

death. Antony desires him to live after him, and report him fairly, 

and then suggests that he would better kill him and recommend himself 

to Octavius by the merit of this act. Ventidius is hurt by this 

proposal At last the pact is made that he should kill Antony first 

and then himself. But Ventidius plunges the sword into himself. He 

prefers to die perjured rather than kill his friend. Antony next 

throws himself upon his sword, but it misses his heart. Fortune seems 

to have let him down. 

At this moment Cleopatra enters, followed by Charmion and Iras. 

There is a mutual understanding now. The dying Antony is placed in a 

chair ; he has but few moments to live, and he is comforted when she 

tells him that her fleet betrayed him and her; and that she is going 

to die with him. He seals his love for her with a dying kiss. Now she 

claims to be his wife, and she loved a Roman, and she is going to die 

like the wife of a Roman. She will not submit to Octavius to grace 

his triumph in Rome. She first crowns Antony’s head with a laurel 

wreath and then she decks herself in her jewels like a bride, and 

sits beside him ; then she puts the asp on her arm, and death slowly 

creeps upon her. 

Next it is the turn for Iras and Charmion to die by the bite of 

the asp. Then enter Serapion, two priests, Alexas in chains and 

Egyptians, and they behold the tragic scene—the lovers sitting in 

state together, a smile still flickering on the lips of Cleopatra. 

Serapion pays them this tribute: 

And fame to late posterity shall tell, 

No lovers lived so great, or died so well. 

The last line of the play is: 

No lovers lived so great, or died so well. 

5.4 THEME 

100


In the opinion of Dr. Johnson All for Love “has one fault equal 

to many . . . that, by admitting the romantic omnipotence of love,” 

Dryden “has recommended, as laudable and worthy of “Imitation that 

conduct, which, through all ages, the good have censured as vicious, 

and the bad despised as foolish.” 

Dryden declared in his preface to the tragedy that he was 

attracted to the subject-by the “excellency of the moral”; that the 

“chief persons represented were famous patterns of unlawful love; and 

their end accordingly was unfortunate.” For Dryden the love affair 

of Antony and Cleopatra contained good potentials for tragedy because 

it exemplified punishment for a love “founded upon vice”; it made 

virtue attractive and vice repellent, and therefore met the 

requirement for poetic justice. Dryden believed that the lovers do 

not demand full tragic pity because “the crimes of love, which they 

both committed, were not occasioned by any necessity, or fatal 

ignorance, but were wholly voluntary; since-our passions are, or 

ought to be, within our power” (Essays, ed. Ker, 1900 I, 191-192). 

The inevitability of tragedy is lacking, according to Dryden, since 

the lovers are not forced into their actions. But if we look closely 

at the play, we find that it does not present a picture of “the 

crimes of love” and of unlawful lovers- being punished for their 

voluntary transgressions. Instead, it gives us almost the opposite: a 

love that is inevitable, an uncontrollable force; and the lovers 

vindicated because of their passion. Our sympathies are drawn to the 

lovers and held there because their passions are not within their 

power. 

The theme of All for Love is the conflict of reason and honor 

with passion in the form of illicit love. From the preface it seems 

That Dryden wished to show how Antony, torn between these two, 

chooses unreasonable, passionate love and is consequently punished 

for his denial of reason.! 

101


The play begins with a struggle. Antony, “Unbent, unsinew’d, made 

a Womans Toy / Shrunk from the vast extent of all his honours,” hopes 

to “cure his mind of Love.” Ventidius, the “old true-stampt Roman,” 

sides with the world of reason, of “plainness, fierceness, rugged 

virtue,” by cursing the joy and revelry of the Egyp-; tians, and by 

deriding Alexas, the eunuch the “unmanned” as “Antony’s other fate” 

(Works, ed. Summers, 1932, IV, 192, 194-196). 

charges: 

Aware of his degradation, Antony admits the truth of Ventidius’s 

I have lost my reason, have disgraced. The name of Soldier, with 

inglorious ease. In the full Vintage of my flowing honors, Sate 

still, and saw it prest by other hands, (p. 199) 

When Antony resolves to kill himself because the world is not 

worth keeping, Ventidius offers to die with him. Thus, early in the 

play some of the contradictions are evident. 

This desperate, illicit love of Antony, a world-weary. Roman, and 

the beautiful, sensual, and cunning Cleopatra has so enmeshed them 

that they are unable to control themselves, although, both are well 

aware of what they are doing. In Act V Dryden seems to have been 

faced once and for all withtin,’ choice of punishing his lovers and 

proving the “excellency of the moral” or closing the play with the 

victory over reason and honor which has been inevitable since the 

first act. Antony’s closing lines indicate that Dryden abandoned 

altogether his ideal of poetic justice: 

Ten years love, 

And not a moment lost, but all improy’d, 

To th’ utmost joys: (What Ages have we liv’d? 

And now to die each others; and, so dying, 

102


While hand in hand we walk in Gfoyes below, 

Whole -Troops of Lovers Ghosts shall flock about us, 

And all the Train be ours. 

No speech after this suggests a moral condemnation of the lovers. 

Rather the play ends on quite another note: 

I And Fame, to late Posterity, shall tell, / No lovers liv’d so 

great or dy’d so well. (p. 261) 

Faced with the opposing viewpoints of Dryden’s preface on the one 

hand and the play itself with its sub-title on the other, we had best 

take Ttie World Well Lost as the more accurate statement of Dryden’s 

intention. 

Dryden believed that Antony and Cleopatra should be punished 

since they violated one of the basic strictures of his age, but yet, 

as we have seen, he could not regard his tragic hero and heroine as 

illustrations of a neo-classical moral maxim—for his lovers, the 

world was “well lost.” The result was a conflict, to which the 

central weaknesses in All for Love may be attributed. 

A theme not pursued in Shakespeare so baldly is the insistence 

that .Antony, like Samson, chose an alien woman, a recurrent motif in 

Samson. 

Octavia: I need not ask if you are Cleopatra; 

Your haughty carriage— 

Cleopatra: Shows I am a queen: 

Nor need I ask you, who you are. 

Octavia: A Roman: 

A name that makes and can unmake a queen. 

Cleopatra: Your lord, the man who serves me, is a Roman. 

Octavia: He was a Roman, till he lost that name, 

To be a slave in Egypt; but I come 

To free him thence. (Ill, i) 

103


The critical link between All for Love and Samson is perhaps more 

interesting even than the thematic and verbal similarities. 

Dryden commenting on Antony remarks, “The death of Antony and 

Cleopatra is a subject which has been treated by the greatest wits of 

our nation, after Shakespeare.” The excellency of the moral is to be 

noted. For the chief persons represented are famous patterns of 

unlawful love; and their end accordingly is unfortunate. 

5.5 MARK ANTONY 

Antony, too, is willing to sacrifice all for love, and in him the 

accent on suffering and compassion is even more marked. Not 

“altogether wicked, because he could not then be pitied,” he is as 

different; from the heroical hero of Dryden’s earlier plays as he is 

from Shakespeare’s hero. Indecisive, and the constant prey of 

conflicting sentiments, he is thrown by the successive pleas of 

Ventidius, Octavia, Dollabella, and Cleopatra into alternating 

postures of grief and hope; and his ability to assume such postures 

with extravagance and he becomes the final measure of his heroism. 

Early in the play Ventidious’ accords Antony the credentials of 

the earlier heroes: a “vast soul” Herculean divinity: 

Methinks you breath 

Another Soul: Your looks are more Divine; You speak a Heroe, and 

you move a God. (V, 347, 359) But the context of Ventidius’ praise is 

a scene which exploits precisely those qualities in Antony which make 

him less than a god: his compassionate sensibilities, and his “tender 

heart.” 

Antony gives in Ventidius in this scene and agrees to resume the 

duties of his empireless to assert his glory than to demonstrate his 

affection for his frieni, He hugs Ventidius and weeps with him: Sure 

there’s contagion in the tears of Friends: See, I have caught it, 

too. Believe me, ’tis not For my own griefs, but thine. (V, 353). His 

104


relationship with Cleopatra, though more complicated, is similarly 

sentimental. Antony claims often that Cleopatra “deserves / More 

Worlds than I can lose” (V, 357), but when the play begins he has 

already effectively lost the world and we see him “walking with a 

disturb’d Motion,” and shortly afterwards, lying prostrate upon the 

stage. 

Antony proves his worth as a lover much as Cleopatra does, not by 

giving away worlds which are no longer in his power to give, but by 

showing his capacity for sympathy and suffering. He can almost always 

be reduced to tears by his friends and by her— “One look of hers, 

would thaw me into tears,” he tells Dollabella, “And I should melt 

until I were lost again.” (V, 395)— and in virtually every situation 

in which we see him on stage, his grandeur is shown by the enormity 

of his distress. No longer a conqueror, a family man rather than a 

superman, Antony is the hero of a play which exalts the man of 

feeling, the man who “Weeps much; fights little; but is wond’rous” 

Antony’s flaw is resembles Samson’s uxoriousness. Dalila’s 

overwhelming confidence that het touch alone (“Let me approach at 

least, and touch thy hand”—951)’ would bring Samson back to her is 

echoed by Ventidius’ passionatt advice to Antony not to accept a gift 

from Cleopatra. 

To quote Dryden’s words, Now, my best lord,—in honour’s name, I 

ask you, For manhood’s sake, and for your own dear safety, Touch not 

these poisoned gifts, Infected by the sender; touch them not . . . 

(II, i) 

Ventidius, Dolabella, and later Octavia have repeatedly to call 

forth the sentiment of honour in Antony. He is known to be a great 

warrior, but as he has been portrayed in the play, he appears a 

feeble and more or less passive character. Cleopatra is consistent 

throughout; her love for Antony never varies for a moment, even in 

105


her interview with Octavia, she defends herself ably for such love. 

Even as a voluptuary and a dissipated rake Antony shows much of 

zest, or a keen sense of enjoyment. He is a man of strong appetites 

and passions or that he is capable of yielding himself to the 

frenzied intoxication of love. Antony seems to be without character. 

Ventidius tries to inspire him with a feeling for honour, but he 

cannot retain it long. He has to bring in Dolabella and Octavia to 

enforce his appeal to Antony’s fiftul sense of honour, Octavia brings 

him fair terms. The terms give Antony entire freedom of choice. He 

may even discard his legally wedded wife, Octavia, while he offers 

his friendship to Octavius. Octavia says: 

I’ll tell my brother we are reconciled; 

He shall draw back his troops, and you shall march to rule the 

East: I may be dropt and Athens; 

No matter where. I never will complain, 

But only keep the barren name of wife, 

And rid you of the trouble. 

Antony almost surrenders to Octavia, who wins the sympathy of the 

audience. but there is more pity for Cleopatra. Octavia, behaves with 

more grace and dignity than Antony. At last Antony confesses himself 

vanquished. For the time being it is a total surrender to Octavia: 

Take me, 

Octavia; take me, children: share me all 

[Embracing them. 

I’ve been a thriftless debtor to your loves, 

And run out much, in riot, from your stock; 


Antony is as variable as the wind. He is later filled with 

jealousy when it is reported to him that Dolabella, sent by him to 

bid farewell to Cleopatra for him, has been making love to her. 

Ventidius might have overreached himself in this matter, for he 

inflames jealousy in Antony by his report which Alexas is made to 

106


confirm in a way—and the result is the final breakoff between Antony 

and Octavia. His jealousy again seems to be fatuous. He is incapable 

of the fury of jealousy. 

Antony is disturbed and dissatisfied with the confession 

Cleopatra and Dolabella the trick that seems to have been played upon 

him. His reason and judgment seem to be of a very low order. The 

confession of Cleopatra and Dolabella leaves their bonafides 

unquestioned, and makes truth come to limelight, but Antony is unable 

to see it. 

After his rupture with Octavia, Antony does not go back to 

Cleopatra. He suspects Cleopatra of loving Dolabella, and he may 

perhaps want to keep away from her. He resumes fighting with 

Octavius, and then the crisis comes—the Egyptian fleet goes over to 

Octavius. And Antony thinks that he has been betrayed by Cleopatra : 

Ungrateful woman! 

Who followed me, but as the swallow summer, 

Hatching her young ones in my kindly beams, 

Singing her flatteries to my morning wake; 

But now my winter comes, she spreads her wings, 

And seeks the spring of Caesar. 

The following dialogue between Ventidius and Antony at this stage 

throws light on his character: 

Ant, I will not fight; there’s no more work for war. 

The business of my angry hours is done. 

Vent. Caesar is at your gates. Ant. Why, let him enter: He’s 

welcome now. 

Vent. What lethargy has crept into your soul ? 

Ant. Tis but scorn of life and just desire 

To free myself from bondage. 

The slumbering sentiment of honour in him is awakened by 

Ventidius now and then. His love for Cleopatra does not seem to be a 

107


strong passion: it is easily killed by a flick of jealousy. However, 

he is going to die like a Roman, who would not let himself be 

captured alive by his enemy. He throws himself upon his sword, but it 

misses his heart. 

Now a reconciliation is patched up between him and Cleopatra.| 

Before dying he wants to be assured that Cleopatra is not false to 

him. She exclaims. 

First, this laurel Shall crown my hero’s head; he fell not 

basely. Nor left his shield behind him,—only thou Couldst triumph 

o’er thyself, and thou alone Wert worthy so to triumph. 

Antony, destroyed by his own passions and the situation in which 

he is placed, is a truly tragic figure. 

5.6 CLEOPATRA 

Cleopatra attempts to bring Antony back into her world. The 

opening and concluding lines of the act indicate the progress of the 

action and her success: 

Cleopatra. What shall I do, or whither shall I turn? 

Ventidius has o’rcome, and he will go. 

Antony. How I long for night! 

That both the sweets of mutual love may try. (p. 216) 

Cleopatra is far more than the evil temptress, offering ruin, 

that Dryden seems to indicate in his preface: instead, she 

illustrates a moral complexity which reason cannot solve. 

Iras. Call reason to assist you. 

Cleopatra. I have none. 

And none would have; my Move’s a noble madness, i 

Which shows the cause deserv’d it. Moderate sorrow 

Fits vulgar Love, and for a vulgar Man: 

108


But I have lov’d with such transcendent passion, 

I soar’d, at first quite out of Reasons view, 

And now am lost above it. (p. 204) 

Her transcendent love is an emotion which rises above reason. 

Cleopatra’s false cloak of virtue does not enrich her personality but 

detracts from her essential character of mature sophistication: she 

is hardly a woman who would mourn the loss of honor through love. 

Cleopatra, though somewhat less masochistic than Octavia, is 

similarly domesticated and sentimentally self-indulgent. In one 

speech she complains that “Nature meant” her to be “A Wife, a silly 

harmless household Dove, / Fond without art; and kind without deceit” 

(p. 47; V, 399), and although these lines can be misleading out of 

context, they do nonetheless describe her wishes accurately. In 

spirit, if not in name, she is indeed a suffering wife: utterly 

“true,” as Dryden describes her in the prologue, utterly without the 

sexual independence which characterizes the heroines of Dryden’s 

earlier plays. “She dotes, / She dotes . . . on this vanquish’d Man” 

(p. 3; V, 346). 

Alexas remarks, that she herself bewails “the curse / Of doting 

on, ev’n when I find it Dotagel” (p. 63; V, 418). Although she 

proclaims the heroism of this dotage and its simplicity (her love, 

she insists, is “plain, direct and open”), the play’s “emphasis is 

not upon the magnanimity of her fidelity but upon the hardships which 

she must endure because of it. Her major scenes are those in which 

she must face the loss of Antony, and in all them she proves herself 

by the sincerity of her grief. When Dollabella pretends that Antony 

has cast her off unkindly, “she sinks quite down” on the stage (p. 

50; V, 402), and after her encounter with Octavia, she exits to a 

“solitary Chamber,” 

... to take alone • My fill of grief: 

109


There I till death will his unkindness weep As harmless Infants 

moan themselves asleep. (p. 44; V, 395) 

Cleopatra is heroic, worthy of Antony, not because she is a 

queen, and a woman infinite in variety, but because she suffers and 

deserves pity as she herself is quick to point out to Octavia: 

Yet she who loves him best is Cleopatra. If you have suffer’d, I 

have suffer’d more. You bear the specious Title of a Wife, To guild 

your Cause, and draw the pitying World To favour it: the World 

contemns poor me; For I have lost my Honour, lost my Fame, And 

Stain’d the glory of my Royal House, And all to bear the branded Name 

of Mistress. There wants but life, and that too I would lose For him 

I love. 

Love triumphs in her, and death is the vindication of her love, 

and it is love transcendent, and so it is little troubled by the 

brittle, finicky question of honour. She is the finest drawn 

character in the play. She is the triumph of Dryden’s art. The title 

of the play, All for Love, or The World Well Lost is appropriate only 

in relation to Cleopatra. It is justified by Cleopatra’s invariable 

love and the sacrifice she made for it. 

Cleopatra is rightly the heroine of the play. She is all for love 

and love absorbs her whole being and she cannot think of anything. It 

is all’ transcending love. Her position is that of a mistress to 

Antony. But she is more than that, and love raises her above the 

position of a mistress. She is not artful, coquettish, lascivious as 

a mistress should have been. She is rather characterized by modesty 

and seemliness in all her dealings with Antony. 

Octavia knows not her character. Ventidius wishes only to 

separate Antony from Cleopatra, and is biased against her from the 

beginning. Antony, though brought into the most intimate relation 

110


with her, has not the understanding or insight to fathom the depth of 

her being. Alexas knows too well that Cleopatra cannot disentangle 

herself from her love for Antony. He remarks that she “dotes.....on 

this vanquished man and winds herself about his mighty ruins ;” and 

his opinion, is that she can save herself and her kingdom by giving 

up Antony. Her love is unquestioning ; undeviating that she cannot be 

the love of a mere mistress. 

Cleopatras love is all-transcending, it is for such love that she 

sacrifices her kingdom and herself. Ventidius gauges her as mistress 

pure and simple. When he reports to Antony that Cleopatra has been 

carrying on with Dolabella, he says : 

I do not lie, my lord, 

Is this so strange ? Should mistress be left, 

And not provide against a time of change ? 

You know she’s not much used to lonely nights. Cleopatra has not 

the remotest intention of exchanging one lover for another. She would 

not even save herself by casting off Antony when Antony had cast her 

off. Alexas suggests that he can persuade Octavius to spare her life. 

Cleopatra protests : 

Base fawning wretch ! wbuldst thou betray, him too ? 

Hence from my sight! I will not hear a traitor; 

Twas thy design brought all this ruin on me. Alexas persuades her 

to play with Dolabella so that she might make Antony jealous. A 

mistress could have managed it all right. Later she confesses to 

Antony: 

Ah, what will not a woman do who loves ? 

What means will she refuse, to keep that heart. 

Where all her joys are placed ? ’Twas I encouraged, 

’Twas I blew up the fire that scorched his soul, 

To make you jealous, and by that regain you 

But all in vain, I could not counterfeit: 

In spite of all the dams my love broke o’er, 

111


And drowned my heart again. 

The above words express her true and sincere love. Cleopatra is 

far from Octavia’s notion that she is “an abandoned faithless 

prostitute.” It is an accident, and it is her misfortune that she has 

the position of a mistress to Antony. But she bears him true, all 

undying love. She might have better graced the position of a wife to 

Antony. She asserts 

Ah, no : my love’s so true, 

That I can neither hide it where it is, 

Nor show it where it is not. Nature meant me 

A wife, a silly, harmless, household dove, 

Fond without art, and kind without deceit; 

But Fortune, that has made a mistress of me, 

Has thrust me out to the wide world unfurnished 

Of falsehood to be happy. 

It is a pity that she has not been appreciated by anybody in the 

play except by Charmion and Iras who are sincerely devoted to her. 

With good reason she defends her love for Antony. When Octavia 

accuses her with being the cause of Antony’s ruin, of his being 

cheapened and scorned abroad, of his losing the battle of Acturn, and 

all that, she replies : 

Yet, she, who loves him best, is Cleopatra. 

If you have suffered, I have suffered more. 

You bear the specious title of a wife. 

To guild your cause, and draw the pitying world 

To favour it; the world condemns poor me. 

For I have lost my honour, lost my fame 

And stained the glojy of my royal house, 

And all to bear the brand name of mistress, 

There wants but life, and that too I would lose, 

For him, I love. 

It is the vindication of her love in the right strain. So much is 

being made of Antony’s honour being at stake in his infatuation for 

Cleopatra by Ventidius and Dolabella while Antony seems to be little 

bothered about it. Cleopatra breathes but once of having sacrificed 

112


honour, fame and the dignity of her royal house for love. But honour 

is not an issue with her, as it is supposed to be with Antony. Love 

means everything to her; she lives and dies for love. 

Commenting on Shakespeare’s Cleopatra Mrs. Jameson opines on the 

features of her character “mental accomplishments, unequalled grace, 

woman’s wit and woman’s wiles, irresistible allurements, starts of 

irregular grandeur, bursts of ungovernable temper, vivacity of 

imagination, petulant caprice, fickleness and falsehood, tenderness 

and truth, childish susceptibility to flattery, magnificent spirit, 

royal pride”. 

Dryden’s Cleopatra is not such a complex character, so rich in 

contradictions. Nor can we picture her as “one brilliant 

impersonation of classified elegance, oriental voluptuousness, and 

gypsy sorcery.” None of the subtlety, witchery, “infinite variety” 

are displayed in Dryden’s Cleopatra. Though she does not want in 

mental accomplishments, in grace or in womanly wit, to Shakespeare’s 

Cleopatra she may, match her in love for Antony. Enobarbus, comments 

“her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love.” 

But Brandes notes the difference: 

“This is literally true only that the love is not pure in the 

sense “of being sublimated or unegoistic but in the sense of being 

quintessential erotic emotion, chemically free from all the other 

elements usually combined with it.” Cleopatra is a supreme creation 

indeed a triumph of his art. 

Cleopatra, urged by her maids to call reason to her aid, replies 

that she has none, "and none would have." She has loved "with such 

transcendent passion" that she has soared "quite out of reason's 

view" and now is lost above it. She is incapable of thought and 

depends on scheming Alexas to prescribe her course of action. 

Cleopatra, the embodiment of love, whose being depends on Antony's, 

113


and who prefers death with him to life without him, is merely 

pathetic. 

5.7 OCTAVIA 

Dryden regards Octavia as a sympathetic character who arouses 

compassion. Octavia, is so well drawn as a “respectable” woman, 

because it is her pride, her regard for honor in the form of her 

reputation, which qualifies her “love” as something far more a vice 

than the love of Antony and Cleopatra. Octavia is so undeniably self- 

righteous that Antony does what man would do when he returns to 

Cleopatra in Act 5. A good illustration of Octavia’s morality is her 

plea: To quote, 

Go to him. Children, go; 

Kneel to him, take him by the hand, speak to him: 

For you may speak, and he may own you too, . 

Without a blush; and so he cannot all 

His Children: go, I say, and pull him to me, 

And pull him to your selves, from that bad Woman. 

You, Agrippina, hang upon his arms; 

And you, Antonia, clasp about his waist: 

If he will shake you off, if he will dash you 

Against the Pavement, you must bear it, Children; 

For you are mine, and I was born to suffer, (p. 226) 

The sudden intrusion of “virtue” into the scene may be morally 

necessary, but Dryden makes it so much less attractive than the 

compelling physical love affair that he is obviously aligning himself 

with passion and against the reason and virtue he urges in his 

preface. Even the sophisticated “serpent of the Nile” is dampened by 

the overbearing virtue and becomes a pale shadow of Octavia: 

Cleopatra, I have suffer’d more. / ‘You bear the 

specious Title of a Wife, To guild your Cause, and draw the pitying 

114


World To favour it: the World condemns poor me; 

(For I have ( lost my- Honour, lost my Fame, 

And stain’d the glory of my Royal House, 

And all to bear the branded Name of Mistress, 

There wants that life, and that too I would lose 

For him I love. (p. 229) 

She feels wronged and pities herself. 

Octavia is introduced as the symbol of the family. Although she 

speaks in the name of the Roman empire, her role in the play is 

really defined by her domestic relationships: as a wife, : as a 

mother, and as a sister. She is an abused wife, ‘ and also she is 

“well-natur’d”; she leaves Antony ; only after she has exacted from 

him, from Ventidius, from Dollabella, from the audience, a full 

measure of the thrills of domestic piety. Her reconciliation scene 

with Antony is a paradigm of sentimental drama. 

Octavia enters, “leading Antony’s two little Daughters” and she 

and Antony stage a brief debate in what appears to be the old style, 

“and strife of sullen Honour.” But she confesses her love, and as 

Antony himself makes clear, the debate shifts from honor to pity. 

“Pity,” he says, “pleads for Octavia; But does it not plead more for 

Cleopatra?” Ventidius answers that ‘Justice and Pity both plead for 

Octavia’ and Antony admits to ,a “distracted Soul.” The maudlin 

resolution of the scene “is worth quoting at length: 

Octav. Sweet Heav’n, compose it. 

Come, come, my Lord, if I can pardon you, 

Methinks you should accept it. Look on these; 

Are they not yours? Or stand they thus neglected 

As they are mine? Go. to him, Children, go; 

Kneel to-him, take him by the hand, speak “to him, 

For you may speak, and he may own you too, 

Without a blush; and so he cannot all 

115


share me all. 

be amended. 

His Children: go, I say, and pull him to me, 

And pull him to yourselves from that bad Woman. 

You, Agrippa, hang upon his arms; 

And you, Antonia, clasp about his waste: 

If he will shake you off, if he will dash you 

Against the Pavement, you must bear it, Children; 

For you are mine, and I was born to suffer. 

(Here the Children go to him, etc.) 

Ven. Was ever sight so moving! Emperorl” Dolla. Friend! 

Octav. Husbandl 

Both Childr. Father! 

Ant; I am vanquish’d: take me, Octavia; take me, Children; 

(Embracing them.) 

I’ve been a thriftless Debtor to your loves, 

And run out much, in riot, from your stock; But all shall 

Octav. O blest hour! 

Dolla. O happy change 1 

Ven. My joy stops at my tongue, 

But it has found two channels here for one, 

And bubbles out above. 

Ant. to Octav. This is thy Triumph; lead me’where thou 

wilt; Ev’n to thy Brother’s Camp. 

Octav. All there are yours. 

Octavia’s Marriage is a result of reconciliation between Antony 

and Octavius. When Antony deserts her for Cleopatra, she is out for 

revenge as reflected in the following words of Alexas. 

His wife Octavia, 

Driven from his house, solicits her revenge. 

Later as per the request of Ventidius, she seems to have come on 

a mission of peace and friendship. She raises the issue of honour 

with: 

I love your honour 

Because ’tis mine: it never shall be said. Octavia’s husband was 

her brother’s slave. 

So she brings fair terms of friendship from Octavius. According 

116


to her Antony is ; free to leave her. Octavia seems to be very 

generous. It might be a policy with her after all. She says : 

For, though, my brother bargains for your love, Makes me the 

price and cement of your peace, I have a soul like yours; I cannot 

take Your love as alms, nor beg what I deserve. 

She strongly feels that she is being offered as a sacrifice to 

the peace and friendship between her brother and husband. Though for 

a short time Antonio surrenders to her, it appears that Antony is 

going to own his friendship and his life to her duty. Octavia says 

that when she had been denied her wifely right it is but proper that 

she should leave him. 

Antony is moved to the point of yielding, when Octavia draws her 

two little daughters round Antony. They are to pull him away from 

“that bad woman’ (Cleopatra), and pull him to her. The trick 

succeeds. Octavia has been used, and is still being used as pawn in 

politics. And she is conscious of it, as it appears from her speech 

here. However, Antony surrenders to his wife and daughters. They are 

to take him, and share him all. 

During her arguments with Cleopatra, she claims the virtue of a 

modest wife as against “black endearments,” of Cleopatra who 

enslaving him. Cleopatra, retorting Exclaims: 

And, when I love not him, Heaven change this face 

(her own face) For one like that (Octavia’s face). 

And then she claims that she loves Antony best. To this Octavia 

can make no suitable reply. Octavia boldly announces that she has 

come to free Antony from bondage, who was once a Roman, but is now a 

slave in Egypt. Cleopatra’s reply is very effective: 

When he grew weary of that household clog, He chose my easier 

117


bonds. 

Octavia’s seeming success is not for long. Ventidius incites 

Octavia against Cleopatra by dilating on her irresistible charms from 

which Antony cannot yet be safe, and when he tells her that Antony 

is making terms of peace for Cleopatra with Octavius, she is 

stiffened against Cleopatra. She declares that she will not allow 

this “strumpet’s peace.” 

If Antony is jealous of Dolabella, Octavia is jealous of 

Cleopatra. She cannot bear to see the passion in her husband for an 

abandoned, faithless prostitute.” Antony bids her leave him, and 

there is a passionate outburst from her. The result is a final 

breakoff between Antony and Octavia. And Ventidius realizes that he 

has pushed the matter to extremes. His objective has been to separate 

Antony from Cleopatra, but he succeeds in separating Octavia from 

Antony for ever ; and he says: 

I combat Heaven, which blasts my best designs : 

My last attempt must be to win her back; 

But oh ! I fear in vain. 

5.8. VENTIDIUS 

Ventidius argues for reason, he wants to do an unreasonable thing 

because of his deep love for Antony. In terms of the morality of 

Dryden’s preface, Ventidius’ idea is wrong; in the context of the 

play itself, it seems admirable. We thus have between intention and 

achievement a split, which, though minor presages more serious 

difficulties. At the close of Act I, Ventidius’ persuasion is 

temporarily victorious, and Antony returns to reason and honor: He 

declares to Ventidius: “Our hearts and armes are still the same” (p. 

203). 

Ventidius is Antony’s general, and his great and devoted friend 

too. He means well by Antony. He finds Antony languishing at the 

court of Cleopatra after the battle of Actium, still a slave to the 

enchantment of Cleopatra. He is determined to rescue Antony from the 

118


bad, degrading influence of Cleopatra, and makes him resume fighting 

with Octavius who is in camp with his army in Alexandria. 

Ventidius is clever and intelligent—and is good at persuading. He 

appeals to Antony’s slumbering sense of honour. He invokes honour 

again and again, for Antony seems to be little alive to it. Ventidius 

thus addresses Antony: 

You sleep away your hours In desperate sloth, miscalled 

philosophy, Up, up, for honour’s sake; twelve legions wait for you. 

And long to call you chief. 

Persuading Antony to go to fight Octavius again, he is able to 

push him and his army back a little, but they do not leave Alexandria 

as yet. He is able to kindle in Antony to a sense of honour, but the 

effect does not last long. He applies himself more seriously to the 

task of rescuing Antony from the influence of Cleopatra. He is 

determined to separate them, otherwise, as he believes, Antony will 

not be his old self again. 

It is no small credit to Ventidius that he finally rouses Antony 

from his blank despair by alternately praising him and reproaching 

him for indolence. He may indeed think highly of Antony and his 

capabilities : 

But you are love misled, your wandering eyes, Were sure the chief 

and best of human race, Framed in the very pride and boast of 

nature.” 

However much his spirit is roused, Antony cannot still think of 

severing himself from Cleopatra. If he is going to fight Octavius 

again, he says: 

“Caesar shall know what ’tis to force a lover From all he holds 

most dear.” 

119


So after all the persuasion Ventidius exercises upon Antony, love 

has the first place in his heart, and then comes honour. If Ventidius 

has succeeded at all, it is that Antony admits honour as a rival 

issue. He enlists the services of Dolabella and Octavia to wean 

Antony away from the influence of Cleopatra. Antony welcomes 

Dolabella as his old friend and he too harps on honour, and says that 

he brings terms from Octavius—and these terms, as it appears, have 

been arranged by Octavia. 

Ventidius’s plan is successful for a short time when he brings 

Octavia. Antony surrenders to Octavia, and promises to break off his 

relations with Cleopatra. Ventidius’s next move spoils the game. When 

Dolabella is sent by Antony to bid farewell to Cleopatra for him, 

Ventidius brings Octavia on to the scene. They watch from a distance 

Dolabella kneeling to Cleopatra and pressing her hand—and Octavia is 

led to believe that Dolabella is making love to her. 

Ventidius to Antony, which is confirmed by Alexas who happens to 

be present at the moment. The passion of jealousy roused in Antony 

provokes Octavia, and there is final breakoff between Antony and 

Octavia. So Ventidius succeeds in separating Antony from Octavia, and 

not from Cleopatra. 

Ventidius demonstrates his faith in, and devotion to Antony in 

the last scene. When Antony has no alternative but to kill himself 

after the desertion of the Egyptian fleet in his last fight with 

Octavius, he makes a pact with Ventidius that he should kill him 

first and then take his own turn, Ventidius breaks the pact and kills 

himself first—and so. Ventidius proves to be an ideal Roman soldier 

in his death. 

Ventidius plays the role of the Chorus. To Ventidius, Antony, 

before his love for Cleopatra ruined him, was "the lord of half 

mankind," the "bravest soldier and the best of friends," and "the 

chief and best of human race." To Ventidius he is still a "vast 

soul," "all that's good and godlike." To Dolabella, Antony is still 

''lord of all the world." To Cleopatra he is lover, lord, and hero, a 

120


"greater Mars." Antony himself reminds us of his former greatness, 

when he was "the wish of nations," and "the meteor of the world." 

Once he brags of the time when he stormed the heights before Cassius' 

camp so eagerly that he won the trenches single-handed, while his 

soldiers "lagged on the plain below." These constant reminders enlist 

our sympathy and admiration for a former hero. 

5.9. Dolabella 

At the opening of the play, Dolabella, once a friend of Antony is 

reported to be seeking his ruin, for “some private grudge.” But this 

does not turn out to be true. Later, Ventidius brings in Dolabella 

and Antony welcomes him as his old friend. There was but a temporary 

misunderstanding between Antony and Dolabella over Cleopatra, for 

Dolabella too was attracted by Cleopatra. Antony alludes to it when 

they meet again now. Dolabella has no guile ! He is frank and candid— 

and this is the best thing we find in him : 

nature. 

And should my weakness be a plea for yours ? 

Mine was an age when love might be excused, 

When kindly warmth, and when my springing youth Made it a debt to 

It is a very sensible report to Antony. Dolabella supports 

Ventidius, and reproaches Antony with his degrading love for 

Cleopatra which has cost him his manhood : 

Twas but myself I lost; I lost no legions : 

I had nb world to lose, no people’s love. 

So Dolabella wants to waken in Antony his slumbering sense of 

honour and his palsied manhood. As organized by Octavia he brings 

terms from Octavius and they are quite honourable to Antony. 

Dolabella is soft and sensitive by nature. When Antony wants to 

send him to Cleopatra to bid farewell for him, he pleads to be 

excused : 

121


I should speak 

So faintly with such fear to grieve her heart, She’d not believe 

it earnest. 

He feels sorry for Antony; it seems that at the instigation of 

Ventidius he has tried to stir up Antony’s spirit and alienate him 

from Cleopatra. Now he feels that he should not have blamed his 

friend’s love, and wishes that he were Antony, to be so ruined. In 

the meantime, Cleopatra has been instructed by Alexas to excite 

Antony’s jealousy by encouraging Dolabella to make love to her. 

Dolabella, encouraged by the hint from Cleopatra that “love may 

be expelled by other love,” is caught unawares, and frames the 

parting message of Antony in the harshest words. And the shock is too 

much for Cleopatra. Then Dolabella goes down on his knees and 

confesses that he had been a traitor for the love of her and reported 

wrongly of his friend, Antony, and now begs her forgiveness. 

Dolabella loses his good name with Antony as the result of 

Cleopatra too openly admitting her own part in kindling love in him. 

The scene is witnessed by Ventidius and Octavia, and when it is 

reported to Antony, he is inflamed with jealousy. Both Dolabella and 

Cleopatra make an unreserved confession to Antony, but he will not 

listen to reason. This episode produces serious consequence such as. 

Dolabella’s loss of fair name, final breakoff between Antony and 

Octavia, Antony’s estrangement from Cleopatra. For all this, 

Ventidius and Alexas are responsible. If Dolabella has any fault, it 

is his sentimentalism, and he becomes the victim of a shady intrigue. 

Dolabells holds an important position in the court of Cleopatra 

and Cleopatra often follows his advice. He is devoted to Cleopatra 

and he is concerned about the dubious position of Cleopatra now that 

Antony has fallen from his fortune—the battle of Actium being lost, 

122


and Octavius with his army stationed in Alexandria. 

5.10. ALEXAS 

Alexas speaks as the man of unimpassioned reason: 

“You [Cleopatra] misjudge; You see through Love, and that deludes 

your sight:” As what is strait, seems crooked through the Waiter; 

But I, who bear-my reason undisturbed can see this Antony. 

He is an undisturbed man of reason, and is ironically, 

“unmanned,” a eunuch; and if this speech is designed to identify him 

with reason, then his later failures—his- counsels to Cleopatra in 

Act V to negotiate with Caesar, is lie to Antony, his scheme to make 

Antony jealous have the effect of discrediting reason. He “sees 

through reason” and his sight is deluded. 

Alexas as the perpetrator of poetic justice, the “punishment” 

inflicted upon the lovers. But then the whole problem of sympathies 

and motiva^ tions in the play becomes confused because Alexas is the 

least sympa- 1 thetic character in the play and is, as such, a poor 

instrument of justice. His lies are a dramatic weakness. 

5.11. STYLE AND TECHNIQUE 

The play has moments of grandeur and some of Dryden’s most 

intense poetry; some have even believed that if Shakespeare had never 

written, it would be one of the most impressive monuments of English 

drama. But this study suggests that the play is full of confusions: 

the conclusion of the play endorses passionate love, though earlier 

in the play, and in the : preface, passionate love is condemned as 

unreasonable and therefore immoral; the inevitability of the action 

is marred because the catastrophe is brought about by an accident; 

the role of reason in the play; is ambiguous. Clearly the play is not 

what it has been called (by Dobree, Restoration Tragedy, 1929, p. 

123


90): a play which “has a coherence, a direction to one end, in a 

word, a unity.” 

Antony’s love is presented in the words of one recent critic, as 

“a suitable enterprise for a hero. The heroism of All for Love is 

subverted at every turn by sentimental effects which emphasize not 

the heroic glory_of love, but ..its. domesticity and compassion. 

Dryden is explicit in the prologue. The author, he writes: 

fights this day unarm’d; without his Rhyme. 

And brings a Tale which often has been told; 

As sad as Dido’s; and almost as old. 

His Heroe, whom you Wits his Bully call, 

Bates of his mettle; and scarce rants at all: 

He’s somewhat lewd; but a well-meaning mind; 

Weeps much; fights little; but is wond’rous kind. 

In short, a Pattern, and Companion fit, 

For all the keeping Tonyes of the Pit, 

I cou’d name more: A Wife, and Mistress too; 

Both (to be plain) too good for most of you: 

The Wife well-natur’d, and the Mistress true. 

The weeping of the men in All for Love is especially conspicuous. 

Antony cries three times onstage (V, 353, 388, 417) and once his 

“falling tear” is reported (V. 362). Dollabella cries when Antony 

exiles him (V, 417) and even Ventidius cries twice, once in grief for 

Antony (V, 352) and once in joy over Antony’s family reunion (V, 

390). 

124


The following views of Hazelton Spencer highlight the 

“technical excellence in the play. It seems to me more apparent than 

real. There is a unity of action, certainly, but it is of the most 

artificial kind. As a matter of fact, the. play is a series of 

confrontations between Antony and Ventidius, Antony and Alexas, 

Antony and Cleopatra, Antony and Octavia, Octavia and Cleopatra. One 

scene does not grow out of another, or out of characterization; the 

action is essentially arbitrary with the dramatist, not spontaneous 

with the characters. And the style is rarely good enough to redeem 

this defect, as it so often is redeemed in Racine.” 

Characterization (this is the play’s most grievous fault) has 

been dedicated to the great principle of consistency. Antony is a 

sentimentalist; Cleopatra’s degradation at Dryden’s hands is even 

more pitiful. Shakespeare’s great psychological portrait of the queen 

and woman is turned to the wall in favor of the puppet of a ruling 

passion. The complex human being, with her infinite variety, gives 

place to a lay figure of Woman in Love. • 

The unity of place is likewise achieved by arbitrary measures; 

the poet does not even trouble to excuse his characters for appearing 

so promptly and so pat. They saunter in and saunter out from the four 

quarters of the Mediterranean world, as if their leisure hours were 

habitually passed in wandering up and down the streets of Alexandria. 

Poetic justice is not respected except in the death of the hero and 

heroine. Violence on the stage is permitted in the deaths of five of 

the characters. Of comedy, even of ironic comedy, there is none; 

there is no wishing her joy of the worm. 

The influence of the heroic drama is powerful in this play, as it 

is in Dryden’s alteration of Troilus and Cressida. The heroics not 

infrequently pass over into the extreme absurdities of that derided 

form, yet the passion is rarely wild or indecorous. Even the diction, 

125


the best thing in the play, is for the most part smooth and flowing. 

There is rant in profusion, but the daring homeliness, which makes so 

many of Shakespeare’s metaphors so impressive, is never indulged in. 

As Professor Saintsbury points out, there is nothing like 

Cleopatra’s Peace, peace: 

Dost thou not see my Baby at my breast, 

That suckes the Nurse asleepe? 

which, he continues, “no poet save Shakespeare since the 

foundation of the world, would or could have written.” 

Judged by what he conceived a tragedy ought to be and by what he 

tried to accomplish with his source, the author of All for Love 

achieved a remarkable tour de force. No one in his senses desires to 

deny to the great name of Dryden one scruple’of the praise that such 

an accomplishment deserves. But our admiration for its author’s 

genius does not oblige us to like this play or, for more than a 

moment in the fifth act, to believe in it. 

The views of T. S. Eliot on Dryden’s blank verse herewith 

cited. “As for the verse of ‘All for Love’ and the best of Dryden’s 

blank verse in the other plays in which he used it, it is to me a 

miracle of revivification. I think that it has more influence than it 

has had credit for; and that it is really the norm of blank verse for 

later blank verse playwrights.” 

Dryden’s rendering there is nothing to say except that it has 

none of the poetic and life of the original. It is accomplished 

verse, and verse that lends itself to stage-delivery, but it is 

hardly poetry. It is not poetry, in the sense that it is not the 

product of a realizing imagination working from within a deeply and 

minutely felt theme. Dryden is a highly skilled craftsman, working at 

his job from the outside. The superior structure with which his play 

126


is credited as a theater-piece is a matter of workmanship of the 

same external order as is represented by his verse. He aims at 

symmetry, a neat and obvious design, a balanced arrangement of heroic 

confrontations and ‘big scenes.’ The satisfaction he offers his 

audience is that of an operatic exaltation and release from 

actuality, a ballet-like completeness of pattern, and an elegantly 

stylized decorum. 

The structure, it will be seen, is always that of simple, 

illustrative, point-by-point correspondence. One analogy may give way 

to another, and so again, but the shift is always clean and obvious; 

there is never any complexity, confusion or ambiguity. When there is 

development, it is simple, lucid and rational. 

This habit of expression manifests plainly the external approach, 

the predominance of taste and judgment. It is an approach equally 

apparent in the treatment of emotion in what are meant to be the 

especially moving places—as, for instance, in the scene in which 

Octavia and the children are loosed upon Antony: 

Antony: Oh, Dollabella, which way shall I turn? I find a secret 

yielding in my Soul; But Cleopatra, who would die with me, Must she 

be left? Pity pleads for Octavia But does it not plead more for 

Cleopatra? 

(Here the Children go to him, etc.) Ventidius: Was ever sight 

so movingl Emperorl Dollabella: Friend. Octavia: Husbandl Both 

Children: Father! Antony: I am vanquished: take me, 

Octavia; take me, Children; share me all. 

(Embracing them). 

Commenting on the scene Morris Freedman says, “The emotion 

doesn’t emerge from a given situation realized in its concrete 

particualrity; it is stated, not presented or enacted. The 

127


explicitness is of the kind that betrays absence of realization.” 

Antony is depicted, like Samson, as a man bereft of hw masculine 

strength. 

Oh, she has decked his ruin with her love, 

Led him in golden bands to gaudy slaughter, 

And made perdition pleasing: She has left him 

The blank of what he was. 

I tell thee, eunuch, she has quite unmanned him. (I, i) 6 

Dryden follows the unities of time and place, and has 

consequently to limit the number of characters and incidents, and 

avoid any entanglements. 

The first Act has but one scene, and so has every other Act. This 

has been done to make sure of the unities of time and place. 

All for Love is soundly plotted, the characters are fully 

developed, and the verse is dramatic, vigorous, and flexible. The 

conflict is between love and reason, heart and head. A t t h e 

beginning of the play Antony has lost his reason; he has dis graced 

"the name of soldier with inglorious ease." It is Ventidius' function 

to make him see his plight rationally and to act according to the 

dictates of reason. But Ventidius can never be sure of Antony, who 

acts, now rationally, now impulsively, as his passions spin the plot. 

As the play opens, Antony is already so far sunk in the 

lethargy of love that his flashes of strength seem like the false 

shows of health in a dying consumptive. But neoclassic limitations 

gave little space for slow decline, and if terror is diminished, pity 

is increased by the exposure of Antony's weakness and suffering. 

5.12. Features of Heroic Play 

The Heroic play is otherwise called the Heroic Tragedy, It 

128


arose first as reaction to Shakespeare because it was felt that 

nothing more could be done with the Shakespearean type of tragedy, 

and if they wanted rally to excel and do something new, they must 

explore fresh fields. 

It arose mainly to satisfy the social, moral and artistic needs 

of the age and it lived so long as it satisfied those needs. Dryden 

defined it, “as an imitation, in little of an heroic poem”. He 

noticed the great affinity between the two genres the end is the 

same, the characters are the same, the action and passions are the 

same. But the epic poet uses narration while the heroic play used 

action and dialogue for the purpose. 

The heroic play was invested with, “the greatness and majesty 

of a heroic poem”. It was not to hold merely a mirror to nature but 

to magnify reality. It was the representation of nature but nature 

raised to a higher pitch. The plot, the characters, the passions, the 

descriptions were all to be exalted above thelevel of common 

converse. The style was also to be made epical. It was not to imitate 

conversation of real life too closely, since sublime subjects ought 

to be adorned with the sublimest expressions.The purpose of the 

Heroic play was not to arouse, “pity, and fear” but admiration. 

Dryden emphasised three virtues, Valour, Duty and Love, for 

which the poet should arouse admiration. The dramatist must present 

“patterns of virtues” in his plays.The most impressive feature of the 

heroic play is the hero who is superman and in whom are emboided the 

typically romantic qualities of Love and Valour. Valour is the 

outstanding trait of his character. He is a great warrior and he 

sweeps across the world in quest of glory and honour. He performs 

incredible feats, conquering a few million soldiers is a mere trifle 

for him. But he is not a mere men-killer, he is also a lover of 

extraordinary emotional capacity. His love is so sudden and intense 

that it surprises everybody including himself. 

He throws away the entire universe in the pursuit of his love. 

The audience is amazed at such superhuman devotion and loyalty. 

Moreover, this love is not a mere physical passion it is a virtue, 

heroic passion. It kindles in the soul honour’s fire, and so the 

lover is eager to be worthy of his desire. To be worthy of his 

beloved, he must be a man of honour and honour includes all possible 

moral and spiritual qualities. Heroic love purifies the hero of all 

base desire and makes him a fit object of admiration. 

129


But love does not arouse only admiration, it also arouses 

compassion. It involves so much pining and whiming on the part of the 

lover that in the true romantic tradition he is always on the verge 

of dying. This lethargy of love is the only weakness on the great 

hero. It paralyses his will. It makes him a captive helpless and 

pitiable. He fawns on, and flatters, his beloved, and faints and 

swoons. He passes from love to jealousy from hope to despair from 

crisis to crisis. 

Because the heroic tragedy arouses only “admiration” and 

“compassion” an unhappy ending was not considered appropriate or 

necessary for it. There is no place for tragic awe and sense of< 

waste in the heroic play : Dryden discarded the unhappy ending. The 

aim of the playwright was to extol some great hero and this naturally 

made and happy ending quite unsuitable. Heroic play is a play 

offering one sensation after another, arousing hopes and fears and at 

last making the event happy to the infinite surprise and wonder of 

the audience. The hero does not die in the end. He is virtuous, and 

so virtue must be rewarded. It is only then that the people would 

follow the virtuous example of the hero. Poetic justice was, 

therefore, considered necessary in the interest of moral edification. 

Sensationalism is an essential feature of the heroic play. This 

admiration in the heroic play is not aroused merely by the 

contemplation of the virtues of the hero, it is also here physical 

wonder at the sight of the strange, the marvellous and the terrible. 

Ghosts, spirits, operatic elements, scenic effects, stirring action, 

bustle and turmoil, were all used to dazzle and stupefy the 

contemporary novelty seeking audience. The theme is taken from past 

history so that the dramatist may claim more reality for his 

absurdity. The setting is always foreign and unfamiliar, and the time 

remote, and in this way the dramatists try to procure, “willing 

suspension of disbelief for the incredible in their plays. 

To depict sudden turns of fortune and to provide theatrical 

effectiveness, the heroic play gives prominence to martial action. It 

also employs elements of the opera to provide thrill and spectacle to 

the audience. There are songs and dances, angles and spirits, ample 

measure. Scenes of horror and bloodshed are frequent. 

Reaction against the manifold extravagances of the heroic play 

began quite early. The heroic play could provide romance and heroism, 

but it could not meet any larger demands. Soon there was a longing 

130


for nature and reality. Its artificiality, its improbability, its 

extravagance, its lack of genuine human passion, doomed it to an 

early and natural death. 

5.13. ALL FOR LOVE AS A HERIOC PLAY 

The Heroic Play usually called itself a tragedy but preserved 

the hero’s life. Antony on the other hand, as Dryden points out, has 

a flaw, and dies. But the exception proves the rule, for Antony’s 

one human frailty proves by contrast that he is otherwise superhuman: 

Virtue is his path; but sometimes it is too narrow for his 

vast soul; and then he starts out wide, And bounds into a vice, that 

bears him far from his first course, and plunges him in ills: But, 

when his danger makes him find his fault, Quick to observe, and full 

of sharp remorse, He censures eagerly his own misdeeds, Judging 

himself with malice to himself, And not forgiving what as man he did, 

Because his other parts are more than man. 

Indeed, by the standards of the Heroic Play, this makes Antony 

a superman, for the ordinary superman is merely content with virtue. 

Characteristic of Antony is a superman who nevertheless whines; he 

gives All for love after a series of struggles with duty, each of 

which takes up an Act, and, turn and turn about, gains a temporary 

mystery, the whole suggesting a formal debate rather than a play 

which rises to and falls from a central climax. The setting is in 

the near East. But it is not either in theory or effect a strict 

example. 

Moreover, Antony “fights little”. Not of course from lack of 

valour but from the policy of curbing heroics hard in this play. 

There is the usual state of siege, convenient for the hero’s army- 

killing excursions and for saving appearances in the matter of the 

unity of time, but Antony is allowed only one Hotspur sally, and even 

then Ventidius pours cold water on his exultation. 

thousand more. 

‘Tis well; and he, Who lost them, could have spared ten 

Use of verbal hyperbole is a significant feature. Ventidius’ 

theory that Antony’s vice proceeds from the unmanageable size of his 

virtue is one of the few parallels to Almanzor’s stand off; I have 

not leisure yet to die or 

131


It (the bull’s head) fell so quick, it did even Death prevent 

: And made imperfect Bellowings as it went 

The ruminations on life which occur often enough in the strict 

Heroic Plays are absent from All for Love, as is everything else not 

bearing on the situation, including the songs, Concomitantly the 

structure has been tightened. 

A Restoration tragedy like All for Love depends for its effect 

not on character interest or on situation, and least of all on 

exploit. The last is always off stage, and the others are 

contrivances for exhibitions, in fine rhetoric, of emotions which, 

although they are in All for Love invariably pertinent to situation 

and role, are there for their own sake. 

132


5.14. HIGH TRAGEDY 

For nearly three centuries critical opinion has agreed that 

Dryden's All for Love, or The World Well Lost (December, 1677) is the 

best example of Restoration high tragedy. 

In conformity with the neoclassic unities and the vogue for 

heroic plays, Dryden limited the action to a single straightforward 

conflict between love and honor — or reason. To achieve unity of 

place he set the action in one catch-all building, the Temple of 

Isis, and by carefully avoiding any mention of time lie managed to 

give the impression that the ideal time of the play was not more than 

the permissible twenty-four hours/ The neoclassic critics objected to 

the delightful slanging 'match between Cleopatra and Octavia as 

indecorous because both were great characters of high rank. With 

sublime common sense Dryden replied that, though one was a Roman and 

the other a queen, "they were both women." 

In All for Love we see the final downfall of Antony, a veteran 

hero, is the mere "shadow of an emperor"; he has almost lost his 

ability to reason and decide. Dryden, a master plotter, worked out 

his conflicts and climaxes with almost mathematical precision. Thus 

in Act one, honest Ventidius, the embodiment of honor and reason, 

persuades Antony to leave Cleopatra and join twelve loyal legions 

waiting for him in Syria. Alexandria is besieged by Caesar, but there 

are still ways open. In Act two, Cleopatra, whose love is "a noble 

madness," persuades Antony to remain with her, and Ventidius 

complains, O women! women! women! all the gods Have not such power of 

doing good to man As you of doing harm! 

In Act three, Ventidius, aided by Antony's wife, Octavia, and 

their two children, and by Antony's young friend, Dolabella, per- 

suades Antony to desert Cleopatra and make peace with Caesar. In a 

contrived but very effective scene, Antony stands alone. His two 

little daughters run to him and throw their arms about him. Then 

me, 

VENTIDIUS. Was ever sight so moving? — Emperor! DOLABELLA. Friend! 

OCTAVIA. Husband! CHILDREN. Father! ANTONY. I am vanquished. Take 

Octavia — take me, children — share me all. 

Embracing, them. 

I've been a thriftless debtor to your loves, 

And run out much, in riot, from your stock, 

133



In Act four, nobody wins. On tbe advice of her prime minister, 

the eunuch priest Alexas, Cleopatra tries to make Antony jealous of 

Dolabclla and succeeds all too well. Octavia, angered at Antony's 

concern for "an abandoned, faithless prostitute," flings away in a 

huff, breaking off negotiations with Caesar; and, in a fury, Antony 

rebuffs both Cleopatra and Dolabella. Now he is left with only 

faithful Ventidius to share his wretchedness. 

In Act five, the Egyptian fleet deserts to Caesar. Antony and 

Ventidius have just decided to sally out with the remnant of their 

forces and die bravely in battle, when Alexas, carrying out another 

scheme to reunite the lovers, brings the false news of Cleopatra's 

death. Completely unmanned, Antony cries, 

My torch is out; and the world stands before me Like a black 

desert at tV approach of night. I'll lay me down and stray no farther 

on. 

Ventidius, called on to slay his master, instead kills 

himself. Antony falls on his sword. Cleopatra and her women find him 

dying, and seat him in a chair. He sings his swan song in melodious 

blank verse, dies, and Cleopatra, with her basket of "'aspics," 

quickly follows him in death. As a mob enters the temple, they see 

the lovers seated together in somber state. Serapion, a priest, 

pronounces their benediction: 

Sleep, blest pair, 

Secure from human chance, long ages out, While all the storms 

of fate fly o'er your tomb; 

And fame to late posterity shall tell, No lovers lived so 

great or died so well. 

No doubt All for Love is a magnificent tragedy, and yet 

perhaps it is a too well contrived, too coldly classical in form and 

style. Possibly the conflict is too mechanically balanced, the 

"moral" too obvious. "The chief persons represented," said Dryden in 

his preface to the play, "were famous patterns of unlawful love; and 

their end accordingly was unfortunate." Yet, as his second title, The 

World Well Lost, suggests, Dryden hedged on his thesis. He seems to 

ask us, in effect, to forgive his lovers' faults and to blame their 

fate on the circumstances of their world. The "famous patterns of 

134


unlawful love" are not presented as sinners or adulterers; indeed, 

the word "sin" appears in connection with them only once in the play, 

when Octavia accuses Cleopatra of owning "those black endearments 

that make sin pleasing." Adultery is never mentioned. 

Political necessity forces Antony to marry Octavia (Caesar's 

sister) after the death of his first wife, Fulvia. He never loved 

Octavia; he loved only Cleopatra, whom Dryden depicts, not as the 

"serpent of old Nile," but as a sweet, good, beautiful woman meant by 

Nature to be a wife, "a silly, harmless, household dove." Cleopatra 

is aware that she has lost her honor and "stained the glory" of her 

royal house "to bear the branded name of mistress," but Antony seems 

unaware that he has done anything wrong, that he has broken a moral 

law and must pay the penalty. Instead he blames his own sloth and the 

gods, crying in his despair, "Is there one god unsworn to my 

destruction?" In the 

Cleopatra, 

inal scene, as the blood drains from his body, he whispers to 

Think we have had a clear and glorious day, And Heaven did 

kindly to delay the storm Just till our close of evening. Ten years' 

love, And not a moment lost, but all improved " To the utmost joys — 

what ages have we lived! And now to die each other's; and, so dying, 

While hand in hand we walk in groves below, Whole troops of lovers' 

ghosts shall flock about us, And all the train be ours. 

ance. 

From Antony there is no word of remorse, regret, or repent- 

5.15. SHAKESPEARE AND DRYDEN 

An examination of the immediate cause of the tragedy as compared 

with that in Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra can be useful in 

illustrating this weakness of All for Love. We should not judge 

Dryden’s play a failure because it does not do things that 

Shakespeare’s does; it is a different play, conceived with 

considerable different dramatic intentions. But in both plays the 

lovers die, and die within the dramatic framework of the tragedy. 

In Shakespeare’s play the tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra is 

135


brought about almost wholly by the love affair; all through the play 

we feel the awful compulsion of this love forcing them to their 

inevitable end. Dryden gave to the early part of his play the same 

impression of inexorability. But the destruction later of Antony and 

Cleopatra is not occasioned by their love alone. Instead, the 

motivation for their deaths, the quarrel which leads to the suicide 

of Antony, is the result of the blundering lies and machinations of 

the well-meaning Alexas, who is not directly involved in the love 

affair. Specifically, it is his lie to Antony about Cleopatra’s death 

which causes Antony to kill himself and later Cleopatra to do the 

same. 

Although there is a similar chain of events in Shakespeare’s 

play, there Cleopatra agrees to Charmian’s subterfuge, hiding in the 

monument, the false suicide; whereas in All for Love Alexas on his 

own initiative tells the lie which sets off the chain of forces. Thus 

he assumes the immediate responsibility for the deaths, which are not 

the inevitable result of the love affair but the result of a casual 

mischance (the mistake due, ironically, to Alexas’ faith in reason). 

The action moves from the lovers’ entangling themselves in inexorable 

fate to a simple accident, not caused by the lovers themselves. 

“Shakespeare’s have a life corresponding to the life of the 

verse; the life in them is, in fact, the life of the verse. 

Correspondingly, his poem as drama—in situation, larger rhythm, 

cumulative effect—has an actuality, a richness and a depth in 

comparison with which it becomes absurd to discuss Dryden’s play as 

tragedy. It is, of course, understood that in a sustained reading 

Shakespeare’s poetry conveys an organization such as cannot be 

examined in an extracted passage” remarks T.S. Eliot. 

“The point may be fairly coercively made by an observation 

regarding what, in Dryden’s verse, takes the place of the life of 

136


metaphor and imagery in Shakespeare’s. What we find, when we can put 

a finger on anything, is almost invariably either a formal simile, or 

a metaphor that is a simile with the ‘like’ or the ‘as’ left out. The 

choice is so wide and the showing so uniform that illustration must 

be random.” 

In the words of Ifor Evans “Dryden indulged in no slavish 

imitation of Shakespeare’s play, though the composition shows again 

Dryden’s admiration for Shakespeare. Dryden breaks down the widely 

distributed scenes of Shakespeare and brings the theme as close to 

the unity of action as its nature will permit. The picture of Antony 

is less generous than in Shakespeare, for the emphasis is on the very 

last phase, full of fretting and nerves and morbid suspicion. Nor has 

Cleopatra the ‘infinite variety’ that she once possessed. Antony and 

Cleopatra was the play in which Shakespeare approached the Values of 

the Restoration stage most closely, for this is the only one of his 

mature tragedies in which love is made the dominant theme. All for 

Love, of all Dryden’s plays, is the one in which the Restoration 

motives of love and honor are subordinated, and their place taken by 

suspicion and jealousy. 

Dryden’s Antony is far closer to Milton’s Samson, as is his 

Cleopatra to Dalila, and Ventidius to the chorus, than they are to 

their counterparts in Shakespeare’s tragedy. But the tempestuous, 

mighty-spirited, mature lovers of Shakespeare were transformed by 

Dryden to resemble the far simpler, more predictable figures of 

Samson and Dalila. For example, he pruned and trimmed Enobarbus' 

florid description of Cleopatra as she came down the Nile in her 

barge, changing its archaisms and deleting its pathetic fallacies to 

fit the Restoration taste for the language of direct statement. Thus 

Enobarbus' verdict on Cleopatra. 

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. 

Other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where 

137


most she satisfies became in Dryden's hands Antony's "refined" 

apostrophe to his mistress, 

There's no satiety of love in thee: Enjoyed, thou still art 

new; perpetual spring Is in thy arms; the ripened fruit but falls And 

blossoms rise to fill its empty place, And I grow rich by giving. 

Dryden glossed over the conclusion of Enobarbus' description, 

For vilest things Become themselves in her, that the holy priests 

Bless her when she is riggish. Dryden's Cleopatra was never wanton. 

Shakespeare dramatized the entire Antony and Cleopatra story as told 

by Plutarch, while Dryden concentrated on the final events in the 

tale, after Antony's defeat by Octavius Caesar at Actium. 


Through this lesson we have learnt the following. 

1) Dryden’s life and works. 

2) Plot – Construction 

3) Theme of “All for Love” 

4) Important Characters of All for love. 

5) Styles and techniques of Dryden. 

6) Features of Heroic play etc. 

5.17 Lesson-End Activities 

1. Write an essay on the character of Antony. 

2. Compare and contrast Cleopatra and Octavia. 

3. What is the significance of the role of ventidius? 

4. Consider All for Love as a heroic play? 


· Emerson Everett H., Harold E. is, and Ira Johnson “Intention 

and Achievement in All for Love” 

· Kirsch, Arthur C., All for Love from Dryden’s Heroic Drama 

Princeton, N/J.: Princeton Univer-ify Press, 1965. 

· Spencer Hazelton, From “Dryden’s Adaptations” in Shakespeare 

Improved (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. 

· Eliot T. S. From “Dryden the Dramatist” by From The 

Listener, V, No. 119 \ April 22, 1931, 

· Leavis F. R. From “ ‘Antony and Cleopatra1 and ‘All for 

Love”: A Critical Exercise” by From Scrutiny, V, No. 2 

September 

138


139


Contents 


6.1 Bacon's Life and Works 

6.2 Of Ambition 

6.3 Of Revenge 

6.4 Of Love 

Unit – III 

Lesson – 6 

Francis Bacon 

6.5 Bacon’s Regard for Structure 

6.6 Poetic Qualities 

6.7 Bacon's Use of Allusions and References 





This lesson talks about Francis Bacon. You will 

understand, by reading this lesson, the life and 

works of Francis Bacon and his use of concenities as 

reflected in his works. 

6.1 Bacon's Life and Works 

Francis Bacon was the younger son of Sir Nicholas 

Bacon who held the high position of Lord Keeper of 

the Great Seal of the King-a political office, and 

was born in the city of London on January 22nd 1561. 

To hold his high office, his father must have been an 

educated and cultured courtier but even more 

140


surprising it is to find that his mother also was 

highly educated in Latin and English and made a 

scholarly translation of Jewel's Apology for the 

Church of England which was written in Latin into 

English. Francis was sent to Trinity College, 

Cambridge, where the education was at that time in 

Greek and Latin but where the spirit of the new 

learning had begun to establish itself to such an 

extent that the works-especially, the scientific 

treatises-of Aristotle were being called in question. 

After graduation, be entered Gray's Inn to study Law, 

and he went to Paris in the company of the ambassador 

Sir Amyas Paulet, since travel on the continent of 

Europe was considered at that time the final touches 

to the education of a gentleman and a courtier. 

Unfortunately his father died suddenly, and he had to 

return to England without spending much time abroad. 

But prepared for a political career by being elected 

to Parliament at the early age of 23. He soon made 

his mark in Parliament because of his sharp intellect 

and oratorical ability, and was called upon to draw 

up a Treatise of Advice to Queen Elizabeth at the age 

of 24. He then became a Bencher (a Magistrate) in 

Gray's Inn, but failed to secure any better political 

post.) 

Francis Bacon, being a younger son, did 

not inherit an estate from his father and had to 

make his own way in the world. He was relationship 

of self-giving love. He deals with them in a 

utilitarian sense. Though he values them highly it 

seems clear that he has not experienced such 

141


closeness himself. There seems to be a pre-occupation 

with the self-rather than with the other. This 

selfishness and self-regard mark the tone of these 

essays. The same is also true with regard to his 

essays on religion. Bacon is lacking in what we may 

term as religious fervour. His religion is not of the 

heart or soul, but of the mind. So he does not think 

of what religion means to the human soul, but to the 

live community of mankind on this earth. He is 

thinking of religion in human terms even when he 

thinks of death so he leaves out any mention of life 

after death or resurrection. We may safely conclude 

that religion of the more fervent kind played no part 

in his life it was all a matter of belief, and of 

human relationships and morality-a path to follow, 

not a heaven to aspire to. 

Essays filled with thought so massive could 

only be written by Bacon; and in this respect, the 

earliest of English Essayist still stands alone. Yet 

the massive thought we poured into a style that has 

been unrivalled as well-a style suited to the 

shortest and briefest of meditations, and stately and 

dignified enough to convey the deepest ideas. 

Baconian lucidity has become a byword in English, but 

the essays have still to be read slowly to allow the 

mind to grasp the concept and the progression of 

ideas-The style suits itself to the simple as well as 

the profound, it can be .used in any situation and so 

is completely flexible. Some of the best English 

prose is suited only to highly emotive passages, or 

to lofty oratory—but Bacon's style is a 'style for 

142


all seasons'. 

6.2 Of Ambition 

Ambition gives a strong motivation to a man, 

unless it is frustrated. If man's ambition is 

frustrated then ambition turns to evil, and becomes 

venomous. So an ambitious man who is given an 

opportunity is an asset, but a frustrated man is a 

danger. 

Since ambitious men have the necessary drive 

and motivation for achievement, Kings and rulers 

should make use of their gift. Ambitious men make the 

best soldiers and generals; they are also useful 

courtiers in order to provide rivalry and competition 

among them. The King can encourage one at one time, 

and another later. So that one does not get all the 

time. Positions of danger and envy are best offered 

to ambitious men as they will be bold enough to take 

them and make the most of them. Here he probably 

means foreign embassies and such political mission. 

One ambitious courtier may also be used to pull down 

another who is getting too powerful, as in the case 

of Macro, whom Tiberius the Roman Emperor used to 

pull down Sejanus. So it has been shown that 

ambitious men are useful to the state-it now remains 

to see how best they can be used without causing 

trouble. 

Men of low birth who have been raised to high 

positions are less troublesome and more easily 

controlled since they have more to lose. Men of good 

and pleasant natures are better than men of harsh and 

143


hard dispositions. It is better to keep changing the 

power structure, thus getting in fresh blood every 

now and then, instead of allowing one man to hold a 

dominant position for too long. 

So Kings should change their favourites 

frequently. It is a weakness in a monarch to keep a 

single favourite too long. Another method is to 

encourage competition between rival men or rival 

groups, so that both parties are kept guessing, and 

none gets any monopoly of favour. Kings should also 

show some favour to men of lower birth, and greater 

steadiness to keep the balance of power. 

Those who have a single ambition are better 

than those who desire to shine in every sphere. 

Constant competition among those in the lower ranks 

to rise is a good thing, either in politics or in 

business. These men should be ambitious for honour, 

which is the safest, for it holds them to morality 

and makes them bold to their positions in society. A 

good King will be able to pick out men whose 

ambitions are good, and whose intentions are to serve 

his King and country. 

In choosing ministers particularly, rulers 

should be careful to choose such men as are anxious 

to serve, and not merely to build their own selfish 

profits. If it is in the military services the men 

chosen should be brave, not for personal but for 

national glory, if it is in business the man should 

be conscious of service to the country as well as 

serve his own profit. One way of finding such people 

144


is test and see whether they are willing to obey 

commands and offer services. 

In this essay, Bacon shows himself to be a 

shrewd judge of courtiers, generals, and businessmen. 

He seems to understand how to make the best use of 

able men who are ambitious for themselves, and to use 

them for the service of the country. He shows himself 

to be farsighted statesmen. It is noteworthy that he 

takes a very detached view of the subject even though 

he himself was in the very positions that he 

describes. He was a poor man who had to be patient 

and even frustrated for a long time before he 

obtained recognition. Yet he looks at the problem 

from a detached standpoint and is able to make a 

number of points that a good manager in a large 

company today, as well as a chief minister in a state 

of a government, may find useful. Bacon is an expert 

in assessing situation and men and finding who would 

fit the problem to be solved, best 

6.3 OF REVENGE 

Revenge is a crude form of justice and it 

usurps the function of law. So it should be our 

foremost duty to stop the practice by legal steps. 

Actually there is no superiority in taking revenge, 

Rather, to condone is princely virtue. Wise men do 

not trouble themselves thinking of past bitterness. 

No one does wrong for the wrong’s sake. Every wrong 

doer is motivated by a strong self interest. If any 

man does wrong without any motive, it is because 

cannot help it, it is in his nature. 

145


Revenge is sometimes tolerable for those wrongs 

which are not legally punishable, but the avenger 

must sea that his revenge is not unlawful. Noble 

revenge is that which is open and bold. But cowards 

are sneaking mischief makers. Enemies may be 

forgiven, as Jesus has commanded us, but Cosmos holds 

that treachery from friends is unpardonable. Job 

remarks that we should accept both good and bad in 

the same spirit. 

The thought of revenge disturbs the mental 

peace of the avenger, which would have been tranquil 

otherwise. Public revenges are often fortunate 

whereas private revenges are not. In fact, the 

avengers lead the life of the witches, which is both 

mischievous and unfortunate. 

6.4 OF LOVE 

“Of Love” The great the worthy men have always 

kept themselves from love. It is a form of idolatory 

and therefore contemptible; it grossly distorts and 

exaggerates truth and it deprives a man of the gifts 

of Juno and Pallas. On analysis of the observations 

of respective love, it is the most powerful in times 

of weakness, and when it is found to be 

irresponsible, it ought to be kept within proper 

limits. In the case of soldiers love is the 

compensation for peril sought in pleasure Love should 

be allowed to expand from individual love to the 

general love for humanity and at last. Bacon 

concludes that nuptial love is the cause of mankind, 

friendly love is the perfection of it, but sensual or 

146


wanton love is the corruption of it. 

Bacon says that love should be kept out of 

life. It may be allowed only on the stage, in the 

tragedies and comedies. In real life love creates 

great mischief and therefore “great and worthy 

persons” have kept themselves away from it. We must 

be very careful in keeping our hearts free from 

passion, for it has found entrance even in the hearts 

free from passion, for it has found entrance even in 

the hearts of ansters and wise men like Appius 

Claudius, when they have been slightly of their 

guard. 

It is not proper to say that we are each a 

sufficient theatre to one another. All men are equal 

and a man kneeling before a woman, is a sort of 

idolatory and it is not proper for a man to use his 

eye in his affair which was given to him to execute 

higher purposes. Another evil that love develop. In 

man is a tendency to exaggeration. A lover always 

speaks in a hyperbolic language. It is impossible to 

love and to be wise man ought to guard very carefully 

against this passion, in which he loses himself. 

A lover has neither riches nor wisdom. This 

can be illustrated by the example of Paris who chose 

love and despised the two, as a result of which the 

whole nation was involved in war. Love overtakes a 

man when he is weak either due to great prosperity 

or great adversity; but in the latter case it is less 

frequent from this very fact, that it overtakes a man 

in his weakness - it proves that it is the outcome 

147


of folly. 

The best course is that if one cannot help 

loving, he must keep his love limits. He should not 

let this passion interfere with the serious affairs 

in life a man does not adopt the above course, he is 

sure to lose his fortune and he cannot be able to 

achieve his land. Even soldiers fall in love but with 

them it is the compensation sought for perils. 

Man is inclined to love and if he does not 

spend his love on the particular person or a group of 

persons, it expands itself into universal love and 

such men become very kind and charitable to others. 

148


6.5 Bacon’s Regard for Structure 

Structure 

In the essay there is a strong organic unity of 

structure like a tree with its various branches. From 

the main trunk of the basic concept arise the growth 

and evolution of a series of related ideas that are 

structured accordingly, one. leading on and sometimes 

generating the other; or explaining and justifying 

what had been said earlier. 

Bacons divides his essays into paragraphs, It 

is not like the modern system of paragraphing, where 

we set one idea and its relationship in a single 

paragraph. Sometimes there are sentence paragraphs. A 

group or cluster of ideas are presented at the same 

time. Hence his paragraphs are long and sometimes 

contain whole series of related ideas, which break up 

into separate units. 

Bacon maps out the subject, so that the reader 

will know, what exactly is to follow. The exclusion 

of all extraneous material is the essence of Bacon's 

structure. There is nothing but the barest truth of 

what he desires to present. 

The logical division into its several aspects 

and parts, is noteworthy. This preserves the 

perspective and not giving undue prominence to any 

one portion of the material. 

To conclude with the words of Bacon, 

"Above all things, order, and distribution, and 

singling put of parts, is the life of despatch; so as 

149


the distribution be hot too subtle; for he that will 

not divide, will never enter well into business; and 

he that divideth too much will never come out of it 

clearly". (Essay "Of Despatch") 

Bacon's use of Aphorism 

Bacon's use of structure of individual 

sentences has caught the attention of stylists His 

apposite style is based on his use of aphorism. This 

use of aphorism give firmness and flexibility to the 

style. Bacon here makes use of a pattern which has 

been known for a long time and was, much respected in 

his time but not used as he did as a quality in prose 

writing. 

“The aphorism is to be found for instance in 

the Bible, in the Book of Proverbs; it is to be seen 

in some of the pronouncements of Moses, especially in 

the Laws. It is to be found again in the sayings of 

the prophets,' and finally Jesus himself used an 

aphoristic style in his teaching the best example 

being the Beatitudes. The aphorism was also to be 

seen in the writings of the Greek and Latin writers 

of Classic times who used it with great effect. So it 

was no new method that Bacon had invented it was 

rather one that he knew and had appreciated, and had 

appealed to him as suitable to the ideas together.” 

'The aphoristic style makes his essays more 

professional and intellectual. Aphorism can be 

easily memorised and quoted, and provides a kind of 

wisdom on occasions which cannot be achieved in any 

other manner and Bacon them a new form and lease of 

150


life. 

The moral precision of the aphorism is asking 

of reasoning and persuasive power which was accepted 

in his time. He uses it in the form of very short 

'dispersed meditations'. 

Bacon sees aphorism as a condensation of wisdom 

and knowledge. In an age which valued precepts and 

aphorisms, Bacon provided exactly what they needed, 

and had the knowledge and wisdom to do so. It is 

probably for this reason that his essays were so 

popular. Some Examples of aphorisms are cited 

below: 

(a) For a lie faces God and shrinks from 

man. (Of Truth) 

(b) This is certain, that a man that 

studieth revenge keeps / his wounds green, which 

would otherwise heal and do well. (Of Revenge) 

Revenge) 

(c) Revenge is a kind of wild justice. (Of 

(d) Besides nakedness is unseemly as well in 

mind and in body. (Or Simulation and Dissimulation). 

Bacon uses this short pithy style so peculiar 

to him to impress what he said upon the reander as 

forcibly and memorably as possible.' 

6.6 Poetic Qualities 

Bacon's prose is poetic among them the most 

poetic of poets. This may be attributed to his use of 

151


imagery, metaphor, and analogy and other rhetorical 

devices in his prose. 

The purpose of these devices is to create an 

image in the imagination to up a picture before the 

imagination of the reader. He was able to present 

abstract ideas endowed with a kind of life and 

actuality which was miraculous because they did not 

lose their precision and yet were full of emotive 

meaning. The clear expression of his subject matter 

reveals that it is not necessary for words to be 

affected or dominant but that meaning could be made 

the prime interest without losing the grandeur and 

dignity of literature. 

Commenting of Bacon’s Essays Sir Joshua 

Reynolds remarks "The excellence and their value 

consisted in being the observations of a strong mind 

operating upon life; and in consequence you find 

there, what you seldom find in other books". 

Bacon himself opinions there is no proceeding 

in invention of knowledge but by similitude". So 

Bacon himself sought out similarities between natural 

phenomena and human situations which he could use 

with strong effect. 

The opening lines of ‘Of Fruth’ is cited here 

as an example "What is truth? said jesting Pilate; 

and would not t stay for an answer". Immediately he 

is able by this image call up the picture of the 

trial of Jesus Christ, and the incident of Pilate not 

taking seriously the statement of Jesus at he had 

come to bring truth into the world. He further uses 

152


this image to point out that there are a type of 

people who will not take anything-particularly truth 

seriously. In the essay "Of Revenge", he alludes to 

the witches in closing they ascribe it to the evil 

work of the witch and hunt her and either drown her 

burn her. To quote "Nay, vindictive persons live the 

life ' witches; who, as they are mischievous, so end 

they unfortunate". In other words vindictive persons 

will come to a good end, just as witches will come to 

harm. Bacon thus uses images very skillfully and 

powerfully in his essays to affect his purposes. 

Bacon uses metaphorical language to make 

matters much clearer and actual to the reader. 

In the essay of 'Simulation and Dissimulation' 

have the example of analogy "Where a man cannot 

choose or vary in particulars, there it is good to 

take the safest and wariest way, like the going 

softly, by one that cannot well see;" Here we have an 

example of the simplest form of analogy. The prose of 

Bacon does contain many examples in almost all his 

essays rhetorical devices which makes his prose 

imaginative and poetic. It clearly adds depth and 

richness to his prose and clarity to what he wishes 

to express. He is able to bring home what he means to 

express much more powerfully because of the use of 

other methods. 

6.7 Bacon's use of Allusions and References 

Almost all the essays have at least one 

reference to the Bible. The most famous one is the 

reference to jesting Pilate in the essay "Of Truth". 

153


But besides that he has several references to the 

famous King Solomon. In the essay "Of Revenge", 

Solomon is quoted as saying that "it is the glory of 

a man to pass by an offence". In the essay "Of 

Riches", as saying: "Where there is much, there are 

many to consume it; and what hath the owner but the 

sight of it with his eyes? and "He that maketh haste 

to be rich, shall not be innocent". Bacon also quotes 

the Bible in 'On Atheism' as saying; '"The fool hath 

said in his heart, there is no God". There is little 

doubt that Bacon knew his Bible very well, and used 

it with great effect. 

Bacon also uses the classics for reference to a 

very great extent. Bacon refers freely Epicurus 

Plato, and Democritus among the Greeks, and Seneca 

among the Roman philosophies. He refers to the Roman 

Emperors Augustus Caesar, Tiberius, Vespasian and 

others. 

Bacon also alludes to modern writers in Europe 

such as Montaigne. Cosmus, Duke of Florence, and 

Spanish proverbs and thus orbiting his knowledge of 

the modern European languages, French, Italian and 

Spanish. This wide frame of reference goes to show 

the immense amount of reading and knowledge that 

Bacon possessed, and which he was able to call upon 

in his dispersed meditations. 

Finally we have references to Nature, a tree 

and its branches, the hills, the sea, precious stones 

and pearls, and talks about the waves and weathering 

of time. His appreciation of the beauty and order of 

154


the created universe is best seen in his essay 'On 

Atheism', this universal frame is without a mind. 

And therefore God never wrought miracles to convince 

Atheism, because his ordinary works convince it." The 

belief in the natual world as against miracles is the 

attitude of a truly scientific mind. 

Thus the use of allusions makes his Essays 

rich and varied, and give an idea of Bacon’s 

encyclopedic knowledge and interests. 

In the words of Benjonson “he seemed to me 

ever, by his work, one of the greatest men, and the 

most worthy of admiration, that had been in many 

ages.” One of the contemporary men remarks "He was a 

man of strong, clear and powerful imagination, his 

genius was searching and inimitable; and of this I 

need give no other proof than his style itself. The 

course of it is vigorous and majestically; wit bold 

and familiar; the comparisons fetched out of the way, 

and yet the most easy". 

According to Hazlih, "He united powers of 

imagination and understanding in a greater degree 

than almost any other writer. He was one of the 

strongest instances of those men who by rare 

privilege of their nature are at once poets and 

philosophers, and see equally into both worlds." 

Commenting upon Bacon's style, Hazlitt remarks 

"His writing have the gravity of prose with the 

fervour and vividness ofpoetry. His sayings have the 

effect of axioms, are at once striking and self - 

evident. His style is equally sharp and sweet, 

155


flowing and pithy, condensed and expansive expressing 

volumes in a sentence, or amplifying a single, 

thought intopages of rich, glowing and delightful 

eloquence." 

In the words of Sir, to be Mathews, "A man so 

rare in knowledge of so many several kinds, endowed 

with the faculty and felicity of expressing it all in 

so elegant, significant, so abundant and yet so 

choice and ravishing a way of words of metaphors and 

allusions as perhaps the world has not seen since it 

was a world.” 


You have learnt so for, life and works of 

Francis Bacon, his style and technique employed in 

his work and essential components of his essays. 


1. Comment on the style and technique of Bacon’s 

Essays with reference to the essays 

prescribed. 

2. The essays of Bacon are ‘true of all men, for 

all time and in all place, Justify. 

3. Discuss the essential features of Bacon’s 

Essays. 

156



Chaudhuri, Sukanta Bacon’s Essays : A Selection. 1977 

; rpt. Delhi : Oxford University Press, 

1984. 

Selby F.G. Bacon’s Essays. 1889; London : 

Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1964. 

Hudson, William Henry Outline History of English 

Literature. 1961 : rpt. Bell & Hyman 

Ltd., 1988. 

Saintsbury, George A short History of English 

Literature. 1898; rpt. London : 

Macmillan & Co. Ltd., 1960. 

Sutherland, James. On English Prose. 1957 : rpt. 

Canada : University of Toronto Press, 

1965. 

Vickers, Brian Francis Bacon and Renaissance 

Prose. Great Britain : Cambridge 


157


Contents 



7.2 Charles Lamb’s Life & Works 

7.3 Dissertation upon Roast Pig 

Lesson 7 

Charles Lamb 

7.4 In Praise of Chimney – Sweepers 

7.5 Dream Children- A Reverie 

7.6 Style and Technique of Charles Lamb 

7.7 Humour and Patho7s in Charles Lamb’s Essays 





This lesson aims to present you the life and works of Charles 

Lamb; a towering essayist and critic besides detailing various 

styles, feeling techniques and detailing of employed by him in his 

works. 


The true art of the essay was born with Lamb. He ranks very 

high as an essayist and critic. He is compared to Addison but he is 

far, superior to Addison in depth and tenderness of feeling, and in 

richness of fancy. Goldsmith comes nearer to Lamb in delicacy of 

feeling and sentiment, and also in pathos and humour, but does not 

posses Lamb’s exquisiteness and quaintness of fancy. After all, Lamb 

is the true inventor of the essay. In his own style he has woven 

together into one charming whole the quaintness’ of the Elizabethan 

manner, and the clearness and common source of modern times. 

7.2 Charles Lamb’s Life & Works 

Charles lamb was born in 1775. He was cradled in the quiet 

cloisters of the Temple, and the old-world atmosphere of the Temple 

clung about him all his life. Charles Lamb was the seventh and 

youngest child of John and Eilzabeth Lamb. John Lamb was a 

158


barrister’s clerk, with seven children, and had to fight hard against 

the encroachments of poverty. Little money could be spared for 

educational purposes, and it might have fared ill with Charles had 

not Samuel Salt, his father’s patron, obtained for him, when he was 

seven, a presentation to Christ’s Hospital. He could thus bid 

farewell to his earlier mentor, “ Mr. William Bird, eminent writer 

and teacher of languages,” whose readiness with the birch was more 

obvious than his readiness with learning. 

At Christ’s Hospital he stayed for another seven years. Here he 

made the acquaintance of the youthful Coleridge, three years his 

senior, and the acquaintance soon ripened into a friendship that was 

to last a lifetime. Lamb proved a fairly good scholar, and when he 

left in November 1789, obtained a post in the South Sea House, where 

the friendly Salt was a Deputy Governor. His family had left the 

Temple, the father by reason of increasing infirmities having 

retired on a small pension, and we find them in Little Queen Street, 

Holborn. 

In his scanty leisure, Lamb threw himself with keen zest into 

the joys of reading, a joy he shared with his sister Mary. This was 

varied by occasional visits to the theatre, a brief excursion to 

Hertfordshire — where some of his happiest moments were spent, and 

where the one romance of his life budded and faded. His home life was 

wearisome and gloomy. His father was growing childish and querulous ; 

his mother was an invalid, and the strain of insanity in the family 

suddenly showed itself in poor Mary, upon whom all the household 

cares had devolved. 

Between 1807 and 1817, Lamb’s contributions to! literature were 

frequent and important. In 1817 the Lambs left the Temple for Covent 

Garden, and an interesting chapter in his life was’ closed, for it 

was at the Temple where the famous, Wednesday evening gatherings took 

place at theTemple moreover, where he made so many of his’lasting 

friendships. The most interesting chapter in his literary life was to 

start, however, in 1820, when Hazlitt introduced him to the editor of 

the London Magazine, and the famous Elia essays came into existence. 

In 1821 John Lamb died. In the summer of 1823 the Lambs once 

again migrated yet further north, this time to Islington, failing 

health made Lamb consider retirement, perhaps the loss of some of his 

best friends weighed upon him also. The fact remains that neither 

brother nor sister got so much pleasure from this retirement as had 

159


been anticipated. 

He found the folk at Enfield slow, and too prone to talk about 

cattle. To relieve his boredom he would indulge in farcically 

extravagant letters. 

Lamb started as a writer about 1795, when Burke and Gibbon were 

at the height of their glory, and some years before Scott had given 

romantic narrative verse its astonishing vogue. He experimented both 

in prose and verse. The tenderness of Lamb, and his genius for 

reminiscence, find expression in Mrs. Leicester’s School and Poetry 

for Children (1809) works written also in collaboration and designed 

for Mrs. Godwin’s “ Juvenile Library.” For some years he wrote 

little, but his literary friendships helped to stimulate his slowly 

maturing powers. 

Lamb’s work as a critic precedes his work as an essayist, 

though the essays no less than the letters scintillate in brilliant 

flashes of criticism. His earlier essay work, between 1811 and 1820, 

is scarcely up to the level of Leigh Hunt’s. The flowering time came 

in 1820 when “Elia” entered upon his own and started with the South 

Sea House, rich in observant humour and reminiscent charm. In 1833, 

the final fruits of Lamb were gathered together in The Last Essays of 

Elm. 

7.3 DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG 

Lamb believes that the practice of roasting pigs originated in 

China. A manuscript which was read out to him by his friend Thomas 

Manning, told the story that the art of roasting was discovered 

accidentally. Once the cottage of a shepherd caught fire and his nine 

young pigs were burnt to death. From the burnt bodies of the pigs the 

son of the shepherd experienced an alluring odour. As he searched for 

the source of that smell in the ashes, he stooped down to feel a pig, 

if there were any signs of life in it. The Shepherd burnt his fingers 

and in order to cool them he put mem into his month. In this way, he 

happened to taste the roast skin of the pig, which appeared to him the 

greatest delicacy in the world. From that day, the shepherds started 

setting fire to their cottages now and then and leaving some pigs to get 

roasted in it. Gradually, a wise man suggested them not to burn their 

cottages but roast pigs on gridirons. 

Later the judge purchased all the pigs of the town. In a few days 

160


his house was observed to be on fire. Then it followed that every house 

was on fire. Throughout the district, fuel and pigs became very costly. 

Insurance offices were closed. After a long time a practical 

philosopher like Locke invented a cheaper way of roasting the flesh 

of pigs and other animals. 

The costly method described in the Chinese manuscript is worthy of 

the pig. It is worthy because the roasted flesh of the pig is the 

most delicate of all delicacies. It must be a young pig which is less 

man a month old and which is called a crackling. In the plate on the 

dinner-table is his second cradle. Such a pig is beautiful and good. 

Elia might enjoy certain things when his friends taste them. But on 

the question of the pig, he is stubborn. He himself must taste the pig. 

Our ancestors were very particular about the way they sacrificed 

such tender animals. How will a pig taste when it is whipped to death? 

The young students at St Omer discussed a similar problem. If the pig 

killed by whipping adds a new taste to the roasted flesh, is death by 

whipping justifiable? Whatever be the decision, the young pig is a weak 

ling a flower. 

Lamb considers the roast pig as one of the best delicacies in the 

world. "Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I will 

maintain it to be the most delicate—princeps obsoniorum". Like a true 

epicurean, Lamb describes the taste of this delicate dish, "There is no 

flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp, tawny, well- 

watched, not overroasted, crackling, as it is well called—the very 

teeth are invited to their share of the pleasure at this banquet in 

overcoming the coy, brittle resistance with the adhesive oleaginous O 

call it not fat, but an indefinable sweetness growing up to it – the 

tender blossoming of fat – fat cropped in the bud. 

The essay reveals Lamb's epicurean tastes. A roast pig is the 

greatest 

delicacy in the world. Lamb wants to enjoy every good thing in the 

world. 

There is a charming self-revelation in the essay. Lamb was a kind- 

hearted 

man, but his preference for pigs which have been whipped to death is 

against his nature. 

7.4 IN PRAISE OF CHIMNEY – SWEEPERS 

161


This essay reflects Lamb's concern for the lowly placed chimney- 

sweepers. This is one of his best essays. His concern for humanity 

and his profoundly sympathetic nature is vividly displayed throughout 

the essay. No doubt he speaks only for the "young" chimney-sweepers 

but that does in no way lessen the importance of the essay. He refers 

to them as "those tender novices." 

Lamb recalls his child-like wonder at the young chimneysweeper 

disappearing into the chimney and emerging at the top like a warrior. 

He is impressed by their work so he wants other people to be kind to 

them. He urges the reader to give a penny or a two pence to a young 

chimney sweeper, when he meets him on the way. He does not forget to 

tell his readers not to be offended like Lamb himself if he laughs or 

jeers at them because in this way only they will provide the chimney- 

sweeper a chance to enjoy himself. Similarly he is pleased to see the 

white teeth of a sooty young chimney-sweeper but he would not tolerate 

a young beauty to show her white teeth. 

Charles Lamb says that he always feels attracted towards young 

chimney-sweepers whose cry of "sweep-sweep" at dawn fills him with a 

little excitement that reminds him of the chirping of sparrows. He 

r e f e r s t o 

them as their work demands patience, When Lamb was a child he used to 

w o n d e r h o w 

young boys would enter the chimney from below, brush its walls and 

then 

emerge at the top. 

' Lamb's appeals for such boys for their wont is strenuous as well 

as dangerous. They deserve charity from us. He urges people to give a 

penny or a two-pence to such a boy meeting them on the way. 

The chimney-sweepers try to keep their senses of smell and taste 

in order. They use sassafras tea or "salon" —a favourite beverage 

with them. Lamb himself has never tasted it but thinks that it should 

be gratifying to their senses as Valerian is to cats. But there are 

imitators who sell the A show of charity to such boys will enable 

them to do better work so that there may never be a casual spark. The 

reader's hospitality will be suitably rewarded in the future as this 

gesture will save them the expense of having to call fire engines in 

the event of a chimney catching fire. 

Lamb hates jeers and ridicules of a street crowd but he does not 

162


mind if a young chimney-sweeper laughs at him. He tells us that once 

he fell on his back in street. A roguish young chimney-sweeper saw 

him in that condition and started laughing. He went on laughing until 

tears flowed from his eyes.Still Lamb did not feel offended for, as 

he felt, he had provided the chimney-sweeper an opportunity to be 

happy at his cost. There was of course no malice in the heart of the 

young chimney-sweeper. 

Lamb is critical of young ladies showing their beautiful white 

teeth but the sight of a black and sooty figure of a young chimney- 

sweeper showing a set of white teeth is attractive. 

' Lamb testifies to their social or family status. They are born 

in high aristocratic family but are kidnapped from their homes in 

their infancy. Once a young chimney-sweeper was found asleep in a 

lordly bed. Had he been of low-birth, he would have dared not do so. 

The possible explanation can be that the boy must have got some 

natural instinct to get into that aristocratic bed. 

Finally, Lamb tells us how his friend Jem White used to entertain 

a large number of young chimney-sweepers every year. Mr. White was a 

kind man. He had a great deal of sympathy for these unfortunate 

chimneysweepers. During the feast Mr. White would go round offering a 

morsel here and a slice there. They had a sumptuous meal. He used to 

propose several toast to the king, to the chimney sweepers. The 

slogan of one of the toasts was: "May the brush supersede the 

Laurel". The young chimney-sweepers really used to enjoy themselves on 

these occasions. It is a sad lot, Lamb says, that after the death of Jem 

White, the practice has come to an end. No one else could undertake to 

continue the tradition. 

The essay is characteristic of its personal note. Lamb speaks 

much about his attitude, likes and dislikes. The use of "I" is in no 

way annoying, instead it adds to the charm of the essay. His style is 

persuasive when he speaks on behalf of the young chimney-sweepers; we 

almost begin to share his sentiments about them. 

There are three paragraphs in which he describes "Sassafras tea" 

which is a stimulating drink for the young chimney-sweepers. It is 

greatly relished not only by the chimney-sweepers, but also by other 

workmen leaving their homes at dawn. They freshen themselves with 

this drink. 

163


Another quality of the essay is that Lamb often slips into his 

fancy. He imagines that some of chimney-sweepers were born in a 

aristocratic family and were kidnapped from their homes in their 

infancy. In order to make his argument appear sound, he relates an 

anecdote concerning a young chimney-sweeper who crept into the lordly 

bed in Arundel Castle. 

As Lamb is fond of loading his essays with anecdotes, he does the 

same in this essay as well. There are three anecdotes, one when he 

slipped while walking and thus provided a chance of fun and enjoyment 

to a young chimney sweeper. Two, there is a story about a young 

chimneysweeper who slipped into the lordly bed in order to feel the 

softness of the bed and also to give his tired limbs a little rest. 

Three, there is a long narrative about Jem White who used 'to arrange 

annual feasts in order to honour and provide entertainment to young 

chimney-sweepers. 

The essay presents a rich variety of Lamb's characteristic style. 

There are high-sounding words and phrases that interest the reader 

liking high-flown style of writing. Iteration which is a significant 

feature of Lamb's writing is also noticeable in this essay. A few 

examples of his style from this essay are given below: 

"I have a kindly yearning toward these aim specks—poor blots— 

innocent blackness—these young Africans of our own growth—these 

almost clergy imps....." (The description of young chimney-sweepers). 

It is like some ramnant of gentry not quite extinct; a badge of 

better days; a hint of nobility....and a lapsed pedigree", (an 

example of iteration). 

Example of high-sounding or unusual words ".....whether the oily 

particles (sassafras is slightly oleaginuous) do attenuate and soften 

the fuliginous concretions....." 

".....to come just in time to see the sable phenomenon emerge in 

safety....." 

".....but one of those tender novices, blooming through their first 

negritude." 

"Him shouldest thou haply encounter, with his dimvisage pendent over 

the grateful steam, regale him with a sumptuous basin." 

Lamb writes with eloquence. The description of Lamb's falling down in 

164


the street exciting laughter of a young chimney-sweeper is such an 

example. Though the entire description has been made in one long sen- 

tence, yet several parentheses therein are not able to mar either the 

eloquence or the beauty of the sentence. The same is true about the 

description of Jem White's way of entertaining the young chimney- 

sweepers. 

The racing of sentences is smooth and the reader is carried 

forward as if he were flowing with water. Lamb's style is 

characteristic in its imaginative approach and the poetic appeal. The 

essay may be called a "lyric in prose". Above all the humanistic 

purpose of the essay makes it all the more beautiful and pragmatic. 

7.5 DREAM CHILDREN- A REVERIE 

Children like to hear about their elders when they were children. So, our author’s children sat 

around him to listen to the stories of childhood of their great grand-mother Field. She lived in a great 

house in Norfolk. The most interesting fact about this house was that the whole story of the Children in 

the Wood was carved in wood upon the chimney piece of the great hall. But this was replaced by a 

marble chimney-piece by a rich person afterwards. Great grand-mother Field was not the real owner of 

the house but her behaviour and manners, and her religious devotions were so great that she was 

respected by every one. She however used the house as if it was her own. But later, the ornaments were 

taken off from the house to the real owner’s home, which was in the adjoining country. When Mrs. 

Field died, her funeral was attended by both, poor folks, and the rich people. Men from many miles . 

round, came to show their respect for her memory. She was indeed a very gentle-hearted and pious 

person. She knew the Psaltery by heart and also a great part of the Testament. 

Then Lamb began telling them about their great grandmother’s youth, when she was regarded 

as the best darcer in the country. But she was attacked by cancer, and that desisted her from dancing 

any further. Her good spirits, however, could not be broken, and she continued to be good and 

religious. She used to sleep by herself in a desolate chamber of that great house. She thought she saw 

two apparitions of infants at midnight, but she was sure that they were good creatures, and would not 

hurt her. She was also very kind to her grand--children, who went to her during the holidays.’ Lamb 

himself used to spend hours in gazing upon old busts of the Emperors Rome. He used to roam round 

the large silent rooms of that huge house, and looked through the wt;rn-out hangings, fluttering 

tapestry, and carved oaken panels. He also used to hang about the garden, gazing at the trees and 

flowers. He was satisfied thus roaming about and preferred this to the sweet flavours of peaches, 

nectarines, and such like common habits of children. 

Though great grand-mother Field loved all her grand-children, she had a special favour for 

their uncle John Lamb, because he was a handsome and spirited lad He was dashing sort of fellow. 

165


While others would have preferred a secluded corner, he used to mount on horses and ride around the 

country and join the hunters. Their uncle John Lamb was really a brave man, and when he grew up to 

be a man, he won the admiration of every one. When our author was a lame-footed boy, John who was 

few years senior to him used to carry him on his back for many miles. In after-life, John, however, 

became lame-footed. Lamb now fears that perhaps he had not been considerate enough to bear the 

impatient pains of John, or to remember his childhood, when he was carried by John. But when Juhn 

died, Lamb came to miss him very much, and remembered his kindness and his crossness, and wished 

him to be alive again. The children then demanded that Lamb should say something about their dead 

mother. Then Lamb began telling them how for seven long years he patiently courted the fair Alice 

Winterton. As he was relating these experiences of his, he, ’suddenly felt that the eyes of that old Alice 

were gazing from the face of the little Alice, sitting before him. As Lamb looked, and looked, it seemed 

that the two chitdren, John and Alice, were receding from him. At last just two mournful features were 

left of them, and they told him that they were neither of Alice, nor of Lamb, that they were not 

children. For, the children of Alice, had Bartrum for their father. So they were merely dreams. At this 

point. Lamb woke up and found himself sitting in his bachelor arm-chair, where he had fallen asleep 

with the faithful Bridget by his side. 

7.6 STYLE AND TECHNIQUE OF CHARLES LAMB 

Lamb’s place in literature is unique. He is a fine 

imaginative critic and something of a poet; but he lives, and will 

live, by virtue of being himself and expressing that self in a series 

of prose essays unsurpassed in their charm, prodigality of fancy and 

literary artifice, marked by a distinguished common sense, starred 

with passages of great beauty and profound insight, and suffused with 

a kindly and capricious humour. The “Essays of Elia” are a complete 

revelation of their writer’s character and, with his correspondence, 

constitute an autobiography. 

Lamb is fond of a kind of reversed irony. He makes a 

statement or uses a phrase which at first is unpleasing, but becomes 

pleasing when we consider it more carefully. For instance, he writes 

of “the rational antipathies of the great English and French 

nations.” He says of himself and his sister, “We are generally is 

harmony, with occasional bickerings, as it should be among near 

relations,” and describes the coast-guard men as carrying on “a 

legitimated civil war in the deplorable absence of foreign one.” 

The Essays of Elia reveal the charm and endurance of a 

personality with a turn for quaint and fantastic humour, melting into 

pathos, with sober delight in the things of life, which even the 

overshadowing tragedy of his sister’s fatal malady can hardly 

166


repress. In reading his essays the tragic background of his life is 

highlighted but there is no track of self-pity to our sympathy, nor 

any bravado, nor the hashing of teeth in important range. By the 

alchemy of his sweeteners of disposition and by the alchemy of 

poetry, he seems to have metamorphosed all his troubles into the 

fancy realm of dreams, reminiscence, unfulfilled longings, things 

stored up in the memory, experiences that should have been forgotten 

long ago, sketches of incidents which one would have passed over in 

life, the bizarre and fantastic which he seem to have an miscanny 

sense of perceiving – all these enter into his essays. 

Lamb lives mostly in the world of memories, the has a brooding 

fantasy and it ponders and meditates, softening the outlines of the 

past and presenting a clear, though sad picture. Pathos becomes a 

necessary element of each writing. It reveals his infinite capacity 

for compassion. He converts his personal experiences into the 

universal suffering of mankind. His style owes its grace and charm 

to this unfailing sense of pathos. 

The romantic essence of things and personalities which he 

very stuffily brings out is a part of his humorous understanding and 

sensibility. It is love of life – of things essentially human, 

including weakness and even vices – that lifts him above the 

calamities of life. 

“As a contributor to the London Magazine, he evolved the 

Essays of Elia, incomparable meditations, reveries, fantasies, on the 

accidents and essentials of life and death. There the tenderness, 

pathos, and ineffable lavish humour of one of the most lovable 

personalities in literature find an expression steeped in rich 

allusiveness, quaint with freaks, starting with sudden child like 

felicities, and sweet with sighing cadavers. RemarksG.L. Craik”. 

In his essays there is a hint, now and then, of things painful 

Dream children, can be cited as an example but the painful relatives 

of life form the back drop, and are transmitted to us in shadowy 

renaissance, “He does not deal with problems, but in memories of 

simple things and simple people, often with the pathos of death on 

oblivion dinging about these; the sights of common London the 

chimney – sweepers and the Jews and the actors, the choice savours of 

beasts and of fish, the street arise and the changing bells” (C.H. 

Herford) 

167


Humour and pathos which are allied in Lamb’s essays. Humour in 

an essential part of his nature. He could just get away from his own 

tragic experiences and dispassionately view human affairs. Sometimes 

he indulges such humour to spite realities. 

Lamb’s humour keeps him human and makes up a large part of 

his benign personalities. He could never have cherished any bitter 

feelings in his heart. The tender watchfulness with which his humour 

invests everything is a quality unique in Lamb. What sudden 

unexpected touches of pathos in him! He is represented by the fine 

shade of perception and sensibility expressing itself in delicate 

humour, which is rendered in language subtle and perfect. His 

humour makes a sense appraisement of life. 

“How admirably, he has sketched the former of the south – sea 

house; what fair fretwork be makes of their double and single 

entries. “With that a firm, yet subtle peril, he has embodied Mrs. 

Battle’s opinion on what! How notably he embalms a battered bearer; 

how delightfully an armour, that was cold forty years ago revives in 

his pages ! With what evil distinguished humour he introduces us to 

his relation, and how freely leaves up his friends!” 

It reflects Lamb's epicurean tastes, his liking of delicious dishes, 

like that of a roast pig. Though Lamb calls the essay 'a dissertation*, 

it is not a formal treatise. Throughout the essay can be seen a vein of 

humour and fun. 

The essay, Dissertation upon a roast pig, is full of fun and 

humour. The story of accidental discovery of cooking or burning is 

quite humorous. The various anecdotes narrated by Lamb provide 

occasions of fun and humour which was an essential trait of Lamb's 

nature. The roasted pig is humorously called 'mundus edibilis' and 

'the chief of the dainties'. There can be nothing but humour in 

remarks, such as 'See him in the dish', his second cradle, how meek he 

looks. The pine-apple is a humorous simile for the pig. In short, the 

essay is full of fun and humour. The essay should be read with a 

spirit of light fun and laughter. 

Lamb explains the principles of his diction “ Diligent care 

has been taken to select such words as might least interrupt the 

effect of the beautiful English tongue in which he wrote ; those few 

words introduced into our language since his time have been as far as 

possible avoided.” 

168


“ Some things are of that nature as to make one’s fancy chuckle 

while his heart doth ache,” wrote Bunyan. The nature of things mostly 

appealed to Lamb in that way. Humour with him is never far from 

tragedy ; through his tears you may see the rainbow iii the sky ; for 

his humour and pathos are really inseparable from one another, they 

are different facets of the same gem ; or to change the simile, one 

may say that Lamb’s moods, whether grave or gay, are equally the 

natural effervescence of an exquisitely mobile imagination. 

As a rule he tells the world more about himself than he tells 

his friend. This is due to no morbid egotism, no mere loquacity, it 

is a necessity of his nature to express himself. In fiction it is the 

least apparent, because of the exigencies of this particular art 

form. A novelist may dramatize his moods and experiences, and this to 

an extent disguises his selfrevelation ; but in the essay form the 

intimate confidential note is the most obtrusive, and the disregard 

for classical standards and rigidity of form that is peculiar to 

romantic literature of all kinds, necessarily helps this self- 

revealing process. 

For this reason the Essays of Elia especially, and the critical 

essays to a less extent, are practically autobiographical fragments, 

from which we may reconstruct with little difficulty the inner life 

and no little of the outer life of Lamb. In spite of his apparent 

carelessness as to the comfort of his brother and sister, Charles 

had always retained a strong affection for him. This most 

pathetically expressed in Dream Children. The streets of London are 

his fairy-land, teeming with wonder – with life and interest to his 

retrospective glance, as it did to the eager eye of childhood; he has 

contrived to weave its tritest traditions into a bright and endless 

romance. To one chief feature of city life, Lamb was indifferent. He 

took no interest in politics. Lamb was so thoroughly a lover of the 

town. 

In the underlying melancholy of his character Lamb resembles 

many of the Elizabethans, for melancholy is a common accompaniment of 

habits of deep thought, but in Lamb’s case his melancholy was due to 

a hereditary taint. His father’s dotage and his sister’s madness have 

been mentioned already, and though no actual evidence of madness has 

been recorded of his brother John, we find Lamb writing on one 

occasion that he has fears for his mind. 

169


One can notice the usual wit and humour in this essay. The 

description of how a young-chimney sweeper disappears into a chimney 

and emerges at the top, is interesting. Similarly, the description of 

"Sassafras" tea and the Chimney-sweeper's liking for that is 

humorous. Then follows the incident of Lamb's stumbling and falling 

on his back in the street causing laughter of a young chimney- 

sweeper. The odd reference to young beautiful ladies showing their 

"white and shining ossifications" is satirical as well as humorous. 

Then the whole account of Jem White is also very interesting. Thus 

humour is the chief quality of the essay. As pathos also runs beside 

humour in Lamb's writing, mean find moving references about chimney- 

sweepers' poverty and fate. He writes, "Reader, if thou meetest one 

of these small gentry in thy early rambles, it is good to give him a 

penny." Pathos is present also in the description of how these young 

chimney-sweepers might have been kidnapped from their aristocratic 

homes in their infancy and left to suffer the whole life. 

7.7 HUMOUR AND PATHO7S IN CHARLES LAMB’S ESSAYS 

Lamb is the supreme essayist of the period and in 

English literature because the true art of the essay was born with 

him. He ranks very high as an essayist and critic. He is compared 

to Addison but he is far, superior to Addison in depth and tenderness 

of feeling, and in richness of fancy. Goldsmith comes nearer to Lamb 

in delicacy of feeling and sentiment, and also in pathos and humour, 

but does not posses Lamb’s exquisiteness and quaintness of fancy. 

After all, Lamb is the true inventor of the essay. He was fond of 

“out-of the-way humours and opinions – heads with some diverting 

twists in them – things quaint, irregular and out of the road of 

common sympathy.” In his own style he was woven together into one 

charming whole the quaintness’ of the Elizabethan manner, and the 

clearness and common source of modern times. 

The essays of Elia reveal the charm and endurance of a 

personality with a turn for quaint and fantastic humour, melting into 

pathos, with sober delight in the things of life, which even the 

overshadowing tragedy of his sister’s fabal malady can hardly 

repress. In reading his essays we feeling the tragic background of 

his life but there is no truck of self-pity to evilest our sympathy, 

nor any bravado, nor the garnishing of teeth in important range. His 

life is a tragic history “dashed tremendously with gloom,” suffered 

with tears, but when read as a whole, it is a tale of conquest and of 

170


triumph. There is little direct hint of all in his essays. By the 

alchemy of his sweeteners of disposition, by the alchemy of poetry, 

be seems to have metamorphosed all his troubles into the fancy realm 

of dreams, reminiscence, unfulfilled longings, things stored up in 

the memory, experiences that should have been forgotten long ago, 

sketches of incidents which one would have passed over in life, the 

bizarre and fantastic which he seem to have all these enter into his 

essays. 

“As a contributor to the London Magazine, he evolved the Essays 

of Elia, incomparable meditations, reveries, fantasies, on the 

accidents and essentials of life and death. There the tenderness, 

pathos, and ineffable lavish humour of one of the most lovable 

personalities in literature find an expression steeped in rich 

allusiveness, quaint with freaks, starting with sudden child like 

felicities, and sweet with sighing cadavers. There is no more in 

describable book in literature” says G.L. Craik. 

The south sea House, Oxford in the vacation, Chief’s hospital 

are some of the many essays that reveal the essentially human 

interest of the prices. In his essays there may be a hint, now and 

then, of things painful (e.g. Dream children), but the painful 

realities of life are kept in the region of memory, and are 

transmitted to us in shadowy renaissance, “He does not deal with 

problems, but in memories of simple things and simple people, often 

with the pathos of death on oblivion dinging about these; the sights 

of common London and what else is a great city but a collection of 

sights?” the chimney – sweepers and the Jews and the actors, the 

choice savours of beasts and of fish, the street arise and the 

changing bells” (C.H. Herford) 

Lamb lives mostly in the world of memories, that has a 

brooding fantasy and it ponders softening the outlines of the past 

and presenting a clear, through sad picture, which we may think 

romantically coloured, but which in tree relatively to the author’s 

experience. Pathos becomes a necessary element of each writing. It 

reveals his infinite capacity for compassion. He read his personal 

experience into the universal suffering of mankind. His style owes 

its software grace and charm to this unfailing sense of pathos. 

Then again humour in an essential part of his nature. Humour 

grace him the detachment of an onlookers – and he could just get away 

from his own tragic experience and dispassionately view human 

171


affairs. The pre-environment gift to humour, most akin to pathos, 

touches everything be writes in all its shifting colours. The 

romantic essence of things and personalities which he very stuffily 

beings out is a part of him humorous understanding and sensibility. 

It is love of life – of things essentially human, including weakness 

and even vices – that lifts him above the calamities of life. 

Lamb’s humour that keeps him human and makes up a large part of 

his benign personalities. His humour in a mingling of laughter and 

tears. and they are again acrylic laughter tears. He had a comic 

view of life and he could see life and see it steadily and as a 

whole. Lamb is represented by the finer shade of perception and 

sensibility expressing itself in delicate humour, which in rendered 

in language subtle and perfect. What largely describes as a 

“ghastly make – believe of humour as a gross judgment. It is rather 

diving a veil over the ghastliness of his experience in life. His 

humour makes a sense appraisement of life. He does not jest with 

life; he cannot for he has known all that is grim in life; but his 

humour relieves him of the painfulness and tendencies of life. 

“How admirably, he has sketched the former of the south – sea 

house; what fair fretwork be makes of their double and single 

entries. “With that a firm, yet subtle peril, he has embodied Mrs. 

Battle’s opinion on what! How notably he embalms a battered bearer; 

how delightfully an armour, that was cold forty years ago revives in 

his pages ! With what evil distinguished humour he introduces us to 

his relation, and how freely leaves up his friends! 

Humour is a necessary equipment of a writer like Lamb who 

perforce of black out all that troubles in spirit and turn his 

attention to men and things outside himself; now when doing so be 

must assessable incongracious elementary in life and he must laugh 

inspite of tears. The tender watchfulness with which his humour 

invests everything is a quality unique in Lamb – and we look for it 

elsewhere in vain “… what sudden unexpected touches of pathos in him! 

- beauty witness how the sorrow of humanity the welf schemers, the 

constant asking of the wounds, is ever present with him; but what a 

gift also for the enjoy of life in its suffleties, of enjoyment 

actuality refined by the need of some thoughtful economies and 

making. 

Lamb’s humour, in all its shifting colours, touches everything he writes. The romantic essence 

of things and personalities which he very subtly brings out is a part of his humorous understanding and 

172


sensibility. His humour, his wistful longing, his haunting sense of the painful realities of life, his loving 

interest in his habitat and neighbors, as well as in things that are gone or going and lastly his style and 

fancy are all moulded together by his essentially human personality are all of a piece. Hence we cannot 

separate his style from his humour. His essays are alive with his being and iridescent with his character 

and sensibility, and fully develop all the graces, nobility, tenderness and whimsicality that make Lamb 

what he is. Humour lends enchantment to all his reveries, fantasies and speculations, and humour is a 

very important element in his character as well as in his writings. 


The genius of Lamb lay in his power of visualizing memories. As 

a stylist does he walk in the past, gathering to himself the pleasant 

tricks and mannerisms of bygone writers. Passing through Lamb’s 

imagination, they become something fresh and individual. The matter 

harmonizes with the manner. It also belongs to the past; its charm, 

too, is a retrospective one. In his dearly loved haunts it is the 

shadow of bygone times that he sees, rather than present actualities; 

a vanished face, a hushed voice, a recollected gesture, some familiar 

friend from book, the memory of some treasured joyance. But Lamb’ a 

memories are not like Wordsworth’s, “ emotions recollected in 

tranquility.” He recalls them not to wring from them some spiritual 

rapture, or ethical significance, but merely as material for his 

intellect and fancy to play upon. He plays with his thoughts the 

atmosphere of his mind reflects the pictures that he conjures up 

Lamb belonged externally very little to his own time. He 

cared nothing for politics on public events, although he was not 

sorry when the death of a royal personage gave him a holiday. He 

preferred, as he put it, to “write for antiquity.” His life is a 

tragic history “dashed tremendously with gloom,” suffered with 

tears, but when read as a whole, it is a tale of conquest and of 

triumph. There is little direct hint of all in his essays. 


1. Analyse the distinctive features of Lamb’s essay with reference 

to the essays prescribed. 

2. Comment on the humour and pathos in Lamb’s essays. 

3. Consider Lamb as an Essayist. 

173



Lamb, Charles Essays of Elia, Bombay: Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 

1970. 

Lucas; E.V. The Best Lamb London: Methuea and Co. Ltd., 1966 

Park, Roy Lamb as Critic. London: Routledge & Thegan Paul, 

1980. 

174


Contents 


8.1 The Life of John Bunyan 


JOHN BUNYAN 

THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS 

8.2 Outline of The Pilgirm’s Progress 

8.3 Style and Technique 

8.4 Pilgrim’s Progress as an Allegory 





This lesson costs light on one of the works of John Bunyan, 

entitled “The Pilgrim’s Progress” By reading this lesson, you will be 

aware of the life history of Bunyan and his contributions with style 

and techniques. 

8.1 The Life of John Bunyan 

John Bunyan was born at Elstow near Bedford in 1628. His father 

was a tinker by trade, and he brought up his son also in the same 

job. There is no record of his having gone to any school, but in the 

years of the Civil War, lie was drafted into the army, but stayed in 

it for little more than a year. For he returned to his native village 

in 1645 while the Civil War was still in progress, and married in 

1649—the year of the king's trial and execution—a poor girl who 

brought him curiously enough two old books as her dowry! These were 

well-known religious tracts entitled ' Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven' 

and ' The Practice of Piety." In 1653 he became a member of a small 

Christian oommumfes-whioh had no other dogma except to follow the 

teachings of Christ implicitly. Thereafter Bunyan began to address 

small groups of his acquaintances and the public on the message of 

Christianity as he understood it. 

There were severe laws enacted against unofficial and 

175


unauthorised preachers who began to multiply in all parts of the land. 

Bunyan was arrested in 1660 for disobeying the law and sent to 

Bedford jail where he dwelt till the year 1679. In those twelve years 

he wrote in jail a number of religious discourses such as ' Christian 

Behaviour,' ' The Holy City', 'The Resurrection of the Dead* and 

'Grace Abounding.' From 1672 to 1675 he laboured as a licensed 

preacher, but in the latter year the freedom given to Dissenters was 

withdrawn and he was again sent to jail for six months in 1675. It 

was during the period of his second imprisonment that he wrote in 

Bedford jail the first part of ' The Pilgrim's Progress.' It was 

published in 1678 . 

Then followed a series of other books from his pen in 

too-following years. Chief of them were ' The Life and Death of Mr. 

Badman (1680). 'The Holy War' (1682), and the second part of ' The 

Pilgrim's Progress ' (1684). After labouring zealously as a preacher 

among his fellow-townsmen, he at last died in 1688. Altogether he 

wrote about sixty books, all of religious appeal. But ' The Pilgrim's 

Progress ' became a best seller even in his life-time, and has 

remained one of the world's classics ever since. It has since been 

translated into almost all the languages of the world. " 

8.2 OUTLINE OF THE PILGIRM’S PROGRESS 

The journey of the Christian occurs in three different stages 

and stands a good comparison to the life journey of every individual 

with the temporal things of the world and secondly he is pre-occupied 

with self love. The last stage deals with the Christian’s full and 

victorious living with God, his total surrender and sanctification 

and the heavenly bliss accruing to him from his intimate association 

with him. 

At the very outset Christian is seeking deliverance from the 

enmeshing and enervating influences of the City of Destruction. 

Though obstinate resolves to pursue him, to change his purpose, 

Christian is able to overcome him because he is firm in seeking an 

inheritance, which is incorruptible and undefiled. The company of 

Pliable is responsible for driving him to the Slough of Despond. 

There arises in him fears, doubts and discouraging apprehensions. 

For the deliverance from the burden of sin that he is carrying 

on the back the Evangelist leads him to Calvary and throws light upon 

the meaning of the death of Jesus Christ. The Worldly wise man of the 

176


town of Carnal Policy, Legality of the village called Morality and 

Civility try to mislead and misguide Christian. 

During the course of his pilgrimage in the way of the cross, 

there are numerous temptations for him to burn back. The love of 

earthly comforts, the priority of tender family ties, are some of the 

primary hindrances to his true discipleship. As he walks through the 

wicket gate and reaches the house of Interpreter, many truths about 

Christ and Satan, Salvation, sanctification, Second coming and about 

the life of this world, and that of which is to come are revealed to 

him. 

The First stage of Christian’s spiritual-journey ends with his 

thrilling experience of Salvation. The load of sins rolls away at 

the vision of the cross. The redemption which is in Christ Jesus has 

a specific beginning, a specific working out in Christian’s life and 

ultimately a specific conclusion, a goal, a mark towards which he is 

pressing. Since his assurance of salvation is securely based, his 

progress is not deterred by Simple, Sloth, Presumption, Formalist, 

Hypocrisy and Vain glory who come along his way. 

As Christian climbs up the Hill of Difficulty, clambering upon 

his hands and his knees, life seems to be filled with innumerable 

cares and disappointments, penetrating care and sorrow which become a 

heavy weight and impede him and make him grow slack in his running 

race and reaching the goal. As a result Timorous and Mistrust 

encounter him, and a sense of fear and guilt arise in him making him 

feel helpless. 

In the early stages of his journey Christian moves through an 

inhospitable terrain, where he must take refuge in a way station such 

as House Beautiful and where evidences of divine favor are fleeting 

and mysterious for example, the hand that appears with leaves from 

the Tree of Life to heal Christian’s wounds when he is in the Valley 

of Humiliation. When Christian keeps on his way and faces Apollyon, 

he is not inspired by any martial ardour. He goes on because he 

remembers that he has armour for his chest but not for his back, so 

that turning tail would be the most dangerous thing he could do. 

The way of the cross involves Christian passing through the 

valley of Humiliation, with a direct encounter with Apollyon, the 

devil, whom Christian successfully overcomes him. The Valley of the 

Shadow of Death is an inevitable place in the way of the 

177


cross.Chsristian accompanied by Faithful reaches the town of Vanity 

Fair, where all worldly things, transactions, places, honours, 

desires, titles, kingdoms, lust, pleasure and all kinds of delights 

and evils prevail. The people of the town sentence faithful to death 

and imprison Christian who finally manages to escape with the help of 

God. Hopeful is another interesting character who joins Christian. 

Though they encounter Mr. Hold-The-World, Mr. Money-love and Mr. 

Save-All, whom successfully overcome. 

In the progress of Christian the field of Ease is another 

barrier. Though he is trapped and imprisoned in the Doubting Castle 

by giant Despair, he makes use of the key of promise and successfully 

escapes from the Doubting Castle. As he reaches the Immanuel’s land, 

he gains more knowledge, experience and become more watchful and 

sincere. In the continuation of their journey, despite the words of 

Flatterer, ignorance and the Atheist they never waver in their faith. 

Christian is in inclined to be impulsive and passionate. He 

runs part of the way up the Hill of Difficulty, and it is he who, by 

overruling Hopeful’s good advice and taking a short cut, leads them 

both into By-Path Meadow and to Doubting Castle. He is too ready to 

jump to conclusions, fearing that all hope is gone when he loses his 

roll of election in the Arbour, or beginning to sink when his doubts 

return upon him in the crossing of the River. 

Christian’s actions describe a progression through stages of 

spiritual life proceeds from an initial conviction of sin that lands 

him in the Slough of Despond to the instruction in Scripture that he 

receives in the Interpreter’s House and through the various trials of 

the major part of the journey until he finally arrives at the 

assurance of God’s mercy represented by Beulah. The more violent, 

and dramatic, assaults on Christian’s faith come early – the most 

violent, that of Apollyon, soon after he has put on the Pauline 

armour of the solider of Christ. The transition from the Valley of 

Humiliation to the Valley of the Shadow of Death makes sense in terms 

of Christian’s experience; he has just faced the prospect of 

annihilation in the battle with Apollyon. After escaping the fiends 

of the Valley of the Shadow, Christian must face the hostile society 

of Vanity Fair. Later Christian encounters more subtle kinds of 

temptations, involving fraud or deceptive appearances Demas, By-Path 

Meadow, Flatterer, the seductive appeal of the Enchanted Ground for 

the pilgrim nearing the end of his journey. 

The Delectable Mountains constitute a spiritual height 

178


attained only by the stalwart ‘For but few of them that begin to come 

hither, do shew their face on these Mountains,’ remark the shepherds 

on which Christian and Hopeful anticipate pleasures to be realized 

more fully in Beulah. The ‘Gardens, and Orchards, the Vineyards, and 

Fountains of water’ serve as tangible proof of God’s marvellous 

bounty. When Christian reaches Beulah the gate of the New Jerusalem 

is ‘within sight’ and he is able to solace himself with delights of 

the place: flowers, singing birds, ‘abundance’ of corn and wine, and 

, not least, the presence of ‘Shining Ones’. 

The Delectable Mountains suggest a large region named 

Immanuel’s land that embodies the promise of salvation, Beulah a 

whole ‘country’. By the time Christian and Hopeful have reached the 

River of Life the landscape itself sustains them; it is an oasis 

where they may ‘lie down safely’ and enjoy the life giving fruit and 

water of the place. 

In addition to the River of Life the springs and fountains 

that Christian encounters in his journey, beginning with the spring 

at the foot of the hill Difficulty, embody the ‘Spirit of grace’. As 

Christian drinks these waters, and eats the fruit of the Tree of Life 

and of the vineyards of Beulah and the Delectable Mountains, he may 

be said to grow in spiritual strength and vitality. 

The delights of Beulah suggest the high level of spiritual 

satisfaction that can be attained by the faithful in this life, but 

Chrisitian must cross the river, a spiritual Jordan to reach the true 

promised land. 

Bunyan shows his pilgrims, ‘transfigured’ by their heavenly 

garments, entering into a state of bliss and rest that surpasses 

anything they could have known in the world and justifies all the 

trials they have endured there. The holy joy that they experience can 

be attained only in the presence of God, in the act of praising him. 

We last see Christian and Hopeful as they blend into the festive 

chorus of angels and saints singing: ‘Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord’ 

(p.162). 

Pilgrim’s Progress consists of two parts, each complete in 

itself. The first recounts the full journey of the pilgrim, who was 

called Graceless and is now known as Christian, from the City of 

Destruction to the Celestial City. Concerned as it is with the 

individual, this first part presents one facet of the Christian life, 

and does not deal primarily with the larger life of the Christian 

community. 

179


“The second part of The Pilgrim’s Progress (1684), which is 

the story of Christian’s wife and children on their way to Paradise, 

is much inferior to Part I. At the outset, it was Bunyan’s idea to 

have Mr. Sagacity tell the story to the Dreamer; then, apparently, he 

realized the clumsiness of this plan, and Sagacity was summarily 

dropped. Bunyan seems now to be writing for women and children. But 

a picturesque narrative needs a hero, not a heroine. 

“At the outset, Bunyan substituted an assault on Christina’s 

chastity for the physical combats in which her husband had 

participated. But he unable to do much with it, and in any event 

such a device could not very well have been repeated. When combats do 

occur, it is not Christina but her guide, Greatheart, who is involved 

in them. There is a adventure and more exposition in Part II, then in 

Part I and much of it is dismal. Even the death of Giant Despair, 

which ought to have been a climax to the thrilling adventure of Part 

I, is comparatively tame. 

“Yet there are touches as fine as anything in Bunyan. 

G r e a t h e a r t h i m s e l f , 

Mr. Valiant for Truth, Mr. Honest, and Madame Bubble are all 

memorable characters. Abstractions come to life as of old in those 

weak Christians, Mr. Fearing and Mr. Fearing and Mr. Feeblemind – 

how wise, how tender, and how deeply Christian Bunyan is in his 

treatment of them! When Ready to Halt dances with Despondency’s 

daughter, Much-Afraid, there is a welcome touch of humour. When 

Mercy falls in love with Christian’s son, Matthew, and marries him 

and bears him a child, we are coming close to the novel of domestic 

life. Finally they cross the River. Despondency’s daughter went over 

singing, ‘but none could understand what she said.’ With Mr. Valiant- 

for-Truth the situation was different ‘all the Trumpets sounded for 

him on the other side.’ 

8.3 STYLE AND TECHNIQUE 

Considering the real qualities of the novel, ocean find it very hard 

to discover one which is not eminently present in Pilgrim’s Progress. 

It has a sufficient and regular plot in each of its parts, the two 

being duly connected – a plot rather of the continuous or straight – 

line than of the interwoven or circular order, but still amply 

sufficient. The action and interest of this plot rather of the 

continuous or straight – line than of the interwoven or circular 

order, but still amply sufficient. The action and interest of this 

180


plot are quite lavishly supported by character; indeed, the Pilgrim’s 

Progress is the first prose work of fiction in which this all- 

powerful tool, which had hitherto been chiefly used by the dramatist, 

and to a less intense, but more extensive, degree by the poet, was 

applied. 

The description and the dialogue are used to further the 

narrative, in the precise way in which novel differs from Drama – the 

description being given by the author, not by the characters or the 

stage directions – and are mixed and tempered with an art only 

inferior to that shown in the projection of character which they 

help. 

In his relations with Faithful and Hopeful there is some room 

for the play of temperament as well as a generalised picture of 

Christian comradeship. The theological passages have a firm 

intellectual structure. In contrast, in the minor characters 

something that can be called literary art is displayed in its full 

subtlety it is the art of the traditional popular sermon judiciously 

fusing moral doctrine and dramatic reality into economical vignettes. 

In the portraits of heretics and backsliders, after we have taken in 

the introductory catch-word of a moralised name, Ignorance or Ready – 

to – halt, we slip from allegory to genre studies of flesh and blood. 

Ignorance is ‘a very brisk lad’. Talkative is ‘a tall man, and 

something more comely at a distance than at hand. 

The skilful, dissecting humour of the portrait of Ignorance may 

serve to illustrate the quality of all these studies of heretics and 

backsliders Ignorance is young and some what ingenuous; he is not a 

corrupt old time-server like By-Ends, or a pompous authoritarian prig 

like Worldly Wiseman. 

The grammatical arrangement is loose but never sloppy, a series 

of parallel clauses and sentences; if they naively run on, they are 

never allowed to pile up too much and cause confusion. An emphatic 

pause, like that before the last sentence, serves to make the 

structure of meaning absolutely clear. The slight but pleasing music 

of the short clauses, varying in length but only varying a little, 

creates a transparent medium for dramatic effects. The simpler the 

prose statement, the more humorous or poignant implications can show 

through it. 

The prose has a range extending through this serviceable, 

fairly neutral medium, to a rough, vivid colour in words and phrases 

from racy, country speech. The language is studded with popular 

181


proverbs sometimes it is hard to tell whether a phrase not recorded 

elsewhere is a rare proverb or simply the creation of the proverbial 

imagination. 

Major force is Bunyan’s own speech and tone of voice, modified 

by the use he had put it to in order to express personal religious 

experience and by his training as a popular preacher. Where the 

Bible is dominant is in the though and structure of the work. First, 

in the great metaphors of wayfaring and struggle, but also in nearly 

every important episode. 

The Valley of the Shadow, Vanity Fair, the houses of 

entertainment for pilgrims modeled on the life of the apostles in the 

Acts, the final bourne of the Heavenly City – all by the creative 

ferment of the native imagination expand hints and suggestions into 

full-scale drama. The dream is frame; it is also the process by 

which the native imagination was able to crack the narrow sectarian 

pattern and free the Biblical truths to describe the way of the 

people of God in living terms. Christian undertakes his journey 

because he believes his hometown is going to be destroyed by fire. 

Lively characterization, of course, constitutes a major 

strength of The Pilgrim’s Wiseman and Talkative and Pliable. But the 

spirit and quality of Bunyan’s art in this respect are not adequately 

suggested in terms of the characters in the book that are observed 

satirically; there is no lack in his characterization of sympathetic 

perception and rendering or of warm human feeling. 

The encounter of Christian and Hopeful with the shepherds of 

the Delectable Mountains provides a revealing illustration of 

Bunyan’s ability to combine the two basic senses of the metaphor of 

the way. This episode offers one of the best examples in The 

Pilgrim’s Progress of the subjectivity of the individual way of 

faith: 

indeed. 

Christian . Is this the way to the Celestial City? 

Shepherd . You are just in your way. 

Christian. How far is it thither? 

Shepherd. Too far for any, but those that shall get thither 

Christian. Is the way safe, or dangerous? 

Shepherd. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe, but 

transgressors shall fall therein. 

The deliberate ambiguity forces one to recognize that the 

182


nature of the way its length and the specific dangers to be 

encountered depends upon the faith of the individual pilgrim. 

Christian’s faith exists only in this ‘time present’ because faith 

must be renewed continuously. 

One cannot overemphasize the importance of his final episode 

to the structure of The Pilgrim’s Progress and the experience of its 

contemporary readers. The emotional intensity of Bunyan’s narrative, 

as it rises to a series of peaks leading up to the moment of 

Christian’s and Hopeful’s reception into the New Jerusalem, registers 

in unmistakable fashion his own estimation of how far his pilgrims 

have progressed. 

Bunyan’s rendering of the glory of heaven, and of the 

preliminary delights of Beulah, is one of the great triumphs of the 

Puritan imagination and the ultimate justification of his use of the 

metaphor of the journey. The climatic episodes of The Pilgrim’s 

Progress bring the reader all the way from the ‘carnal’ world in 

which the narrative began up to the contemplation of a transcendent 

world whose reality is validated by the word. 

In the terms of Bunyan’s narrative one can gain entrance to 

heaven only by learning to understand the visible world of ordinary 

experience in the metaphoric terms established by the Word: as an 

alien, and ultimately insubstantial country through which God’s 

people must journey until they attain the ultimate satisfaction of 

communion with God. To accept this mode of thought is to see in the 

Exodus a pattern explaining and assuring the deliverance of the 

faithful of all items. 

8.4 PILGRIM’S PROGRESS AS AN ALLEGORY 

The allegory in “The Pilgrim’s Progress” helps to give us a 

clear idea of the various difficulties and obstacles, temptations 

that lie in the path of any one who wants to reach God. Christian is 

the personification of an ideal Christian, simple, honest and good, 

who has an earnest desire to save his soul and secure eternal life in 

Heaven. 

Christian in a restless frame of mind, is weighed down by the 

consciousness of his sins. Domestic happiness leaves him cold. He 

is sick of the world and its sins. His thoughts are on salvation. 

His family and his friends first treat this as a physical ailment and 

later deride him as crazy. Thus the path to salvation is shown to 

him and all alone he sets out to seek it. 

183


Christian’s dramatic flight from his family-with his fingers 

in his ears and crying, Life, Life, Eternal Life the expect the 

Gospel demands that one loses his life in order to save it (Mark 

8:35) and further that one leaves his family in order to follow 

Christ(Luke 15:26) if one chooses the way of Christ, one will 

necessarily appear foolish in the eyes of the world. 

The world tries to drag him back. Very soon despondency 

overtakes him. This is natural as he is mentally lonely. Soon 

however he gets over it. The world in the shape of Mr. Wiseman tries 

to claim him back. For a short while he is taken in by Mr. Wiseman, 

Soon he recollects the worlds of God’s Interpreter and cleanses his 

mind of all thoughts of self-indulgence. 

He receives good advice and directions from men of good will 

and this encourages him. He meets one who interprets to him God’s 

ways and illustrates the dangers of worldly temptations. This 

spiritual guidance from one well versed in the spirit of God’s 

teachings is of great help to him. And soon his conscience is 

cleared of its sins and he feels very free and light-hearted. But he 

is yet open to attacks from the world. Formalism and hypocrisy try 

to show him short-cuts to heaven. But he sufficiently developed to 

discard such devices as signs of self-deception. 

The process acquiring spiritual exaltation is very rigorous. 

Christian has his weakness in him. He relaxes and indulges in sloth. 

This weakens his moral tone and so he becomes a prey to timidity and 

lack of confidence. But his better nature asserts itself and be soon 

repents his temporary lapse. He bravely faces the dangers on the way 

and this matures new aspects in his mind. In the Palace, Beautiful, 

Discretion, Prudence, Pity and Charity enlighten him and give him a 

new armour to resist the physical terrors of the world in the shape 

of Appollyon. Then for a while he has to grope along amidst the 

fogs, pitfalls and dangers of the world, through the valley of the 

Shadow of Death. By keeping his mind resolutely on God he wins 

through. And with this be acquires a great mental equipment, 

unshakable faith in God. He easily sees through. And with this he 

acquires a great mental equipment, unshakable faith in God. He 

easily sees through Talkative who cares only for the form and not the 

spirit of religion. 

The worldly forces beset him again in another guise. In the 

Vanity Fair all the allurements, wiles and wickedness of the world 

184


beset him. With staunch faith he overcomes these. He develops in 

this process another noble quality, Hope. He is by now morally well 

developed and is able to nail By-ends lies. Wealth ceases to hold 

any allurement for him. He ignores the call of wealth as reflected in 

the episode with Demas. 

He indulges himself and pays the price of easy by getting his 

mind clouded over with doubt. Soon he becomes very desperate. 

Despair and hope wage a war in his heart. Despair is driven off and 

hope triumphs. Now he is on an elevated mental plane from which he is 

able to glimpse the truth of heaven and also understand the danger of 

worldly indulgence and ignorance. The delectable mountains depict 

his high mental and moral development. 

He is proof against ignorance. But flattery leads him astray 

and lands him in trouble. He however gets over this weakness too. 

Yet another obstacle in the shape of Atheism confronts him. But this 

has no power over Christian. Still the danger of falling a pray to 

self-indulgence remains a constant threat. Christian gets over this 

by concentrating on God and His teachings. 

And finally he faces death. He has still some worldly 

weakness in him. His hope of salvation is shaken and he begins to be 

afraid of death. But ultimately hope sustains him and he faces death 

with courage. Thus he reaches heaven. The entire pilgrimage is a 

figurative illustration of the psychological struggle inside man who 

wants to attain God. Man can attain mental and moral eminence only 

by battling against his base inclinations i.e. by conquering his 

thirst for worldly pleasures. Fortitude, austerity, faith, hope are 

the primary qualities needed by man to attain salvation. 

The Doubting Castle episode proves that Christian can lose the 

way at a relatively late point in the journey through overconfidence, 

not that he has failed to grow in faith and understanding. In 

Doubting Castle Christian is baffled and dismayed by the fact that it 

seems impossible either to defeat his enemy or to get his key. The 

brilliance of the episode lies in the fact that Bunyan makes escape 

seemingly so difficult yet paradoxically so easy; Christian has only 

to remember that Scripture has provided him with his own key, a 

solution that comes to him as a result of prayer. 

Christian again lapses into doubt at the River of Death, this 

time a paralyzing ‘ darkness and horror’ that causes him to forget 

temporarily the ‘ sweet refreshments’ he had met with in the way and 

185


the assurance they had given him of reaching the ‘ Land that flows 

with Milk and Honey’. Bunyan’s emphasis upon the ‘ sorrows of 

death’ does not subvert the metaphor of the journey it merely 

indicates his acute sense of the dangers of this final obstacle, even 

for those who have persevered in the way of holiness. Reaching the 

plane of assurance represented by Beulah does not relieve one of the 

necessity of making the crossing. 

Christian continues to be vulnerable to doubt throughout his 

pilgrimage because Bunyan believed that faith could never be 

completely secure in this world. But his doubts are prompted by very 

different kinds of trials, appropriate to different stages of the 

journey, and in each case we are reminded of what has gone before. 

Christiana’s journey presents a clearer, less interrupted sense of 

progress, of course, because her way is so much easier. 

To understand the nature of Christian’s spiritual progress 

one must look more closely at the stages of his journey, particularly 

at his experience in such places as the Delectable Mountains and 

the land of Beulah. Those episodes that mark Christians growing 

awareness of divine favour serve to establish the truth embodied 

in the biblical metaphor of the journey and hence to convince the 

reader that the goal for which Christian strives is real. 

Bunyan’s narrative insists that the claims of the way and 

those of the world are mutually exclusive. The pilgrim must set his 

course ‘against Wind and Tide’ as Christian increasingly realizes. 

Faithful relates that he has learned to ignore the ‘ hectoring 

spirits of the world’ because he recognizes that ‘ what God says, is 

best, though all the men in the world are against it. 

The Vanity Fair episode constitutes the most important 

statement of the warfare between spirit and flesh in The Pilgrim’s 

Progress. The whole episode illustrates the necessity of choosing 

between two modes of life that are irreconcilable, between ‘ carnal 

sense’ and ‘things to come’, to use the distinction made for 

Christian by Interpreter. All the assumptions about the end of human 

activity that underlie Vanity Fair, and the indulgence of ‘ fleshly 

appetite’ that they allow, can be comprehended in the term ‘ carnal 

sense’. 

The Valley of Humiliation, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, 

the Delectable Mountains, and the other landscapes that Christian 

must traverse define a world that is open only to those who believe 

in the Word sufficiently to seek the goal that he does. These 

landscapes do not exist for Pliable, who refuses to enter the 

186


spiritual country to which they belong, or for Atheist, who cannot 

find it. The topography of this country is determined largely by 

Bunyan’s experience of Scripture, and the key to Christian’s progress 

through it is his understanding of the power of the word. 

Christian’s near disaster in his struggle with Apollyon 

suggests that this understanding does not come easily. The education 

in the Gospel that he has received from Evangelist, Interpreter, and 

the inhabitants of House Beautiful prepares him to resist Apolyon’s 

arguments successfully. Yet his failure in the physical combat that 

follows suggests that Christian is deficient in faith and needs the 

intervention of the Spirit to be able to manage his sword. 

The Gate by which the pilgrim enters upon the way is Christ, 

according to the symbolism by which Jesus had declared, ‘I am the 

door’. This identification of Christ with the Gate is explicit in 

Part II (‘the Gate which is Christ’) of The Pilgrim’s Progress but is 

clearly implicit here, so that the Christian begins with the 

incarnation and moves on toward God. Men tend to assume they can know 

God as he is, often judging Christ by his conformity to a prior human 

image of God. Christianity, however, denies that finite and sinful 

creatures can know God, with any great clarity, apart from Christ. 

Bunyan thus indicates that the pilgrim knows virtually nothing of God 

until he enters the Gate which God has provided, and that henceforth, 

his knowledge increases as he advances along the route of pilgrimage. 

From the total number of the pilgrims in both parts of the 

allegory, we see the various types of Christian life and the 

problems, temptations, and joys incident to each. Not all the 

pilgrims set out for the same reason, and each has a somewhat 

different experience of the way. Christian leaves the City of 

Destruction because of a compelling sense of doom, and a sort of 

numinous fear, so that he sets out with less sense of his goal than 

of his need. 

As Augustine put it, ‘Christ as God is the fatherland where we 

are going; Christ as man is the way by which we go’. The way is the 

same, but the wayfarers differ and, therefore, so does the wayfaring. 

Each learns for himself and in terms of his own character ‘how to act 

faith’ (213), to use the words of Christiana, and each increases in 

the love for God and for God’s people, which is the only ultimately 

satisfactory motive for acting the Christian faith. 

The pilgrims who complete the journey from destruction to 

fulfillment do so out of ‘the love that they bear to the King of this 

place’(172), and they continue in the way only because, like 

187


Christian, they prefer the person, company, and servants of Christ 

over the enticements of Apollyon (6I-2). No other motivation is 

ultimately sufficient to sustain the pilgrims in the completion of so 

difficult a way. Each who perseveres does so in order that, as young 

Samuel puts it, ‘I may see God, and serve him without weariness; that 

I may see Christ and love him everlastingly; that I may have that 

fullness of the Holy Spirit in me, that I can by no means here 

enjoy’(238). Heaven is sought not because it is ‘a palace and state 

most blessed’, but because God is the center of heaven, and it is 

only for that reason that heaven is the palace and state most 

blessed(238). 

The love of God, then, is clearly central. Without it, man’s 

alienation cannot be overcome, or his fulfillment attained. We have 

developed in some detail, in Chapter 3, the threefold alienation from 

which Adams suffers, as his sin sets him at odds with God, with his 

neighbour, and with himself. This isolation of the self is overcome, 

as we have seen, only by reconciliation with God, and this 

reconciliation comes in its turn only through the action of God 

himself, in and through Christ. 

In Christ, God acts so that his justice and mercy, his power 

and his love, are at one, and it is only through such divine action 

that man can be rescued from imprisonment to his own self-critical or 

self-satisfied self. No merely human efforts will suffice, for, as 

Hopeful says of himself, man commits enough sin in one duty to seal 

his own isolation; Augustine says, our greatest virtues are but 

splendid vices (149). Man, then, must enter through the one Gate. 


The reader is led through his own stages of pilgrimage in the 

way of the cross as he reads “The Pilgrim’s Progress”. The Pilgrim’s 

Progress” is one of the very few books, which may be read over 

repeatedly at different times and each time with a new and different 

pleasures for it is a lively portrait of everyman’s life in 

pilgrimage for it is a lively portrait of everyman’s life in 

pilgrimage in the way of the cross. 


1. Account for the popularity of Bunyan’s on the Pilgrim’s 

Progress. 

2. Write an essay on the Pilgrim’s Progress as an allegory. 

3. What are the significant features of Bunyan’s writing? 

188



Raju, Anand Kumar The Pilgrims’ Progress New Delhi, Macmillan Indian 

Ltd., 1999. 

Keeble. N.H. John Banyan : The Pilgrims Progress Oxford : 

Oxford University Press 1984. 

189


Contents 



9.2 Life & Works of Swift 

9.3 Outline of the Story 

Unit – IV 

Lesson - 9 

JONATHAN SWIFT 

GULLIVER’S TRAVELS 

9.4 Gulliver’s Travels as an Allegory 

9.5 The Moral Vision of Swift 

9.6 Gulliver’s Travels as a Satire on Man. 

9.7 Gulliver’s Travels as a Political Satire 

9.8 Gulliver’s Travels as a Satire on Humanity 

9.9 Style and Technique of Gulliver’s Travels 





This lesson aims at presenting you all things about Jonathan 

Swift; a greatest prose satirist of the eighteenth century. That 

includes his life and works, outline of the Gulliver’s Travels, his 

style and techniques, and his moral vision. 


Swift is the greatest prose satirist of the eighteenth 

century. No other major English writer is so charged with the spirit 

of satire as Swift. His entire work is satirical in tone. “Swift's 

apparent malignity arose from a great love of his fellow-creatures, 

soured by continual disappointment in their nobility, and from a 

love of truth and of righteousness that on every hand he saw trampled 

under foot." His personal life also contributed in making him a 

ferocious satirist. "He was disappointed in material ambition, a 

190


victim of hope deferred ; far sadder, he was debarred from conjugal 

love, either by his fear of madness or by some other and more 

mysterious ban." His works are a satire on humanity. He uses irony to 

drive home a point. He sounds profounder depths and exhibits a cosmic 

humour. 

9.2 LIFE & WORKS OF SWIFT 

Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin on the 30 th of 

November, 1667, of English parents living in Ireland. 

He was graduated from Trinity College, Dublin, with 

some difficulty because of his refusal to study logic 

and he left Ireland for England at the time of the 

Revolution (1688). His writings rather strangely 

began with a group of Pindaric Odes, of which he 

published only one. At Moor Park he wrote his first 

and very important prose. A Tale of a Tub and The 

Battle of the Books, which he published in 1704. 

Gulliveer’s Travels was published in 1726. 

The Demands of the reading public during the 

Augustan age was met by the growth of periodicals 

like “The Idler”, “The Tatler”, “The Spectator”, “The 

Examiner”. This age was marked by a love of reason, 

proportion and balance. Thus this era has been 

rightly named. The Age of Prose and Reason. 

Swift’s early prose masterpieces – A Tale of a 

Tub and The Battle of the Books had their origin in 

the so called quarrel between the Ancients and the 

Moderns, which Temple’s essay of Ancient and Modern 

Learning (1690) had fanned into flame. Swift 

completed his masterpiece Guliver’s Travels in 1725. 

191


As a whole Gulliver’s Travels has the multiple 

intention of a masterpiece; it can be read by 

children for its narrative and descriptive charm; it 

can be read by learned historians as an allegory of 

the political life of Swift’s time; it can be read as 

a burlesque of voyage literature; it can be read as a 

masterpiece of misanthropy; it is perhaps best read 

as the ingenious reflections of a thoughtful man on 

the abuses of human reason. 

192 

..2.. 

In the first voyage a complex political allegory 

is at work based on Swift’s own experience of 

politics in Queen Ann’s reign. It focuses attention 

on the corruptions of court life. The second voyage 

takes Gulliver to the land of giants where the human 

body seems loathsome when seen in its magnified form. 

The satire reaches its climax in the denunciation of 

the entire human race by the king. In the third 

Voyage Swift attacks every kind of impractical 

scholarship and vain philosophy and the absurd and 

pretentious schemes of economist and promoters. The 

fourth voyage to Hounhmland, where animal man, the 

Yahoo, is contrasted with the “Perfection of nature” 

seen in the Houyhnhnms who are figured as horses. 

9.3 Outline of the Story 

Gulliver”s Travels records four voyages of one 

Lemuel Gulliver, and his adventures in four 

astounding countries. The first book tells of his 

voyage and shipwreck in Lilliput, where the 

inhabitants are about as tall as one’s thumb, and all


their acts and motives are on the same dwarfish 

scale. In the petty quarrels of these dwarfs the 

littleness of humanity is highlighted. The statesmen 

who obtain place and favor by cutting monkey capers 

on the tight rope before their sovereign, and the two 

great parties, the Littleendians and Bigendians, who 

plunge the country into civil war over the momentous 

question of whether an egg should be broken on its 

big or on its little end, are satires on the politics 

of Swift’s own day and generation. The style is 

simple and convincing; the surprising situations and 

adventures are as absorbing as those of Defoe’s 

masterpiece ; and altogether it is the most 

interesting of Swift’s satires. 

On the Second voyage Gulliver is abandoned in 

Brobdingnag, where the inhabitants are giants, and 

everything is done upon an enormous scale. The 

meanness of humanity seems all the more detestable in 

view of the greatness of these superior beings. When 

Gulliver tells about his own people, their ambitions 

and was and conquests, the giants can only wonder 

that such great venom could exist in such little 

insects. 

In the third voyage Gulliver continues his 

adventures in Laputa, and this is a satire upon all 

the scientists and philosophers. Laputa is a flying 

island, held up in the air by a loadstone ; and all 

the professors of the famous academmy at Lagado are 

of the same airy constitution. The philospher who 

worked eight years to extract sunshine from cucumbers 

is typical of Swift’s satirtic treatment of all 

193


scientific problems. 

It is in this voyage that we hear of the 

Struldbrugs, a ghastly race of men wtio are doomed to 

live upon earth after losing hope and the desire for 

life. The picture is all the more terrible in view 

of the last years of Swift’s own life, in which he 

was completed to live on, a burden to himself and his 

friends. 

In these three voyages the evident purpose is to 

strip off the veil of habit and custom, with which 

men deceive themselves, and show the crude vices of 

humanity as Swift fancies he sees them. In the 

fourth voyage the merciless satire is carried out to 

its logical conclusion. This brings us to the land 

of the Houyhnhnms, in which horses, superior and 

intelligent creatures, are the ruling animals. All 

our interest, however, is centered on the Yahoos, a 

frightful race, having the form and appearance of 

men, but living in unspeakable degradation. 

There are four ‘books’ in Gulliver’s Travels: 

the story of the ships doctor who goes first to the 

land of people six inches tall to Lilliput, then to 

Bobaingnay a land of giants seventy two feet tall to 

Brobdingnag next to Laputa a Floating island and 

other places and finally to the land of horses. As 

he wrote to Pope : The chief end and purpose of my 

labour is to vex the world rather than divert it. 

In this satire Swift aims shrewd blows at 

personal enemies, especially Robert Walpole, the 

194


first Prime Minister a Whig, a man known for 

permitting and indulging in corruption and one who, 

Swift felt sure, was keeping him from advancing. In 

Lilliput Swift’s shows Walpole walking the tight-rope 

an inch higher than the other ministers and managing 

to keep his equilibrium, ridiculing walpole’s 

‘agility’ in retaining office. 

195


9.4 GULLIVER’S TRAVELS AS AN ALLEGORY 

In the words of Kathleen Williams, “Its sharp 

contrast in method, with the grotesque figures of the 

Laputans and the excursions into magic and 

immortality, certainly breaks the atmosphere of moral 

realism which pervades the voyages to Lilliput, 

Brobdingnag, and Houyhnhnm-land; even the rational 

horses belong to a world of morality, not of 

fantasy…. "Voyage to Laputa" can be considered as an 

allegorical presentation of the evils of a frivolous 

attitude to life.” The flying island presents a 

political philosophy and a comment on man’s 

relationship to nature. 

The balance of power, and the delicate relation- 

ships which subsist between a monarch and those whom 

he governs, could scarcely be better represented than 

by conditions in Laputa and Balnibarbi. The Laputan 

king, for all his knowledge of cosmic circumstance, 

for all the ingenuity of his flying island, is yet 

dependent upon the firm earth beneath him for every 

movement Laputa can make; for all his theoretic 

achievement man is, in practice, dependent upon and 

circumscribed by other men and by laws of nature, of 

which he can take a certain limited advantage but 

which he can neither alter nor, finally, explain. 

For example, the astronomers of Laputa, 

although they have written "large Systems concerning 

the Stone" whose movements control the course of the 

196


flying island, can give no better reason for the 

inability of Laputa to rise above four miles, or to 

move beyond the extent of the King's continental 

dominions, than the self-evident one "That the 

Magnetick Virtue does not extend beyond the Distance 

of four Miles, and that the Mineral which acts upon 

the Stone in the Bowels of the Earth, and in the Sea 

about Six Leagues distant from the Shoar, is not 

diffused through the whole Globe, but terminated with 

the Limits of the King's Dominions. Their pursuit of 

second causes ends in inscrutable mystery, which 

their confident exposition can only conceal, not 

clarify. 

The Laputans have indeed lost their human 

quality in their abnormal absorption in things remote 

from the concerns of men. They make little physical 

effect upon us, for their outer aspect is as 

unnatural, as purely emblematic, as that of a 

personification like Spenser's Occasion: "One of 

their Eyes turned inward, and the other directly up 

to the Zenith" because they are completely absorbed 

in their own speculations and in the study of the 

stars. Their interests are entirely abstract, and 

they see nothing of the everyday practical world, 

ignoring the knowledge of the senses. 

They scorn the evidence of the sences, the 

Laputans are “very bad Reasoners”. These strange 

figures are akin not only to the mechanical operators 

but more closely to the spider-like world-makers. One 

197


eye looks outward, but only to a remote world of 

abstractions where, in the regular motions of the 

heavens, mathematics and music join. One eye looks 

inward, to the mind where systems are spun out of a 

"Native Stock," not built up from that basis of 

observed fact which, however faulty our senses, is 

yet the only material upon which our reason can work 

constructively and practically. Laputan thinking 

produces results as flimsy and useless as a cobweb— 

Gulliver's ill-fitting soil/file devastated 

countryside of Balnibarbi. 

The Laputans are absorbed in music, mathematics and 

astronomy. They spend hours at their instruments, 

preparing themselves to join in the music of the 

spheres, which they claim to be able to hear. Since 

mankind is traditionally deaf to this music because 

of the grossness of the senses through sin, the claim 

implies that the Laputans believe themselves to have 

escaped from such tyranny. 

The Laputans cut themselves off completely from all 

that is humanly creative and constructive. Even their 

food approaches as nearly as possible to the rarefied 

atmosphere in which they live, for their meat is 

carved into geometrical shapes and their poultry 

trussed up "into the Form of Fiddles." 6 Nor have 

they any conception of physical or sensuous beauty, 

since they see beauty only in mathematical 

abstractions, and judge not by sense impressions but 

by an arbitrary relation of animal forms to abstract 

198


shapes existing in their minds: "If they would, for 

Example, praise the Beauty of a Woman, or any other 

Animal, they describe it by Rhombs, Circles, 

Parallelograms, Ellipses, and other Geometrical 

Terms; or else by Words of Art drawn from Musick . . 

. the whole Compass of their Thoughts and Mind, being 

shut up within the two forementioned Sciences." 

They do not realize that the world of human 

beings cannot be adequately dealt with in 

mathematical terms, and their wives, as a 

consequence, have fallen into matter, escaping 

whenever possible into a life altogether physical and 

degraded, as exaggeratedly animal as that of their 

husbands is exaggeratedly intellectual king has no 

interest in "the Laws, Government, History, Religion, 

or Manners of the Countries" Gulliver has visited, 

and his realm of Balnibarbi is chaotic. Gulliver 

"could not discover one Ear of Corn, or Blade of 

Grass" except in a few places, during his journeys, 

and our minds revert to the kingdom of Brobdingnag, 

the land which has been called a "simple Utopia of 

abundance," where government is conducted with 

practical good will and a due regard for traditional 

wisdom, and where the King regards his task as one of 

promoting increase and life, making "two Ears of 

Corn, or two Blades of Grass, to grow where only one 

grew before." The Laputans, on the other hand, 

produce a world of death, and the results of their 

efforts are purely destructive because their aims are 

impossibly high and are unrelated to real conditions. 

199


Some day, they say, "a Palace may be built in a 

Week, of Materials so durable as to last for ever 

without repairing. All the Fruits of the Earth shall 

come to Maturity at whatever Season we think fit to 

chose, and increase an Hundred Fold more than they do 

at present; with innumerable other happy Proposals." 

10 In the meantime, houses are ruined, land 

uncultivated, and people starving, and the only 

result of Laputan enterprise on the prosperous estate 

of the old-fashioned Lord Munodi has been to destroy 

the mill which had long provided his family and 

tenants, in order to make way for one which should, 

on scientific principles, be better, but which 

somehow fails to work. . . . That Munodi, the one 

successful landowner in Balnibarbi, should be a 

traditionalist is only to be expected; "being not of 

an enterprizing Spirit, he was content to go on in 

the old Forms; to live in the Houses his Ancestors 

had built, and act as they did in every Part of Life 

without Innovation." 

The projects of Lagado are, in fact, conducted 

in an atmosphere similar to that of A Tale of a Tub, 

an atmosphere of aimless activity, distorted values, 

and a perversion of things from their proper purpose 

even to the point of removing all life and meaning 

from them. The results produced are woolless sheep, 

dead dogs, horses whose living hooves are turned to 

stone. The mechanism of the Tale exists in Lagado 

too, in the machine which is to replace the thinking 

and creating mind of man and will, by pure chance, 

200


eventually produce "Books in Philosophy, Poetry, 

Politicks, Law, Mathematicks and Theology." 

The effect of Laputa and its subject kingdom is 

of a wilful abandoning of the physical and of the 

vital for the abstract, the mechanical, and the 

unproductive. The prevailing images here are not of 

real people and animals, even "little odious vermin," 

but of ruins, mechanical constructions, men who look 

like allegorical figures and women who are thought of 

as rhomboids or parallelograms. Animals are only 

negatively present, as in the pathetic horses and 

sheep of the Academy. Even Laputa itself is a 

mechanical device, and the flying island expresses 

not only the Laputans' desertion of the common earth 

of reality but their conversion of the universe to a 

mechanism and of living to a mechanical process. 

A gloomy enough picture of both the ancient and the 

modern world, and upon this ghostly history follows 

the most somber episode of all, that of the 

Struldbrugs of Luggnagg, in which the lesson of 

Laputa with its naive hopes, its misplaced ambition, 

and its eventual sterility is repeated with more open 

seriousness. A right sense of values, a proper 

attitude to living, is here suggested not through the 

handling of contemporary aims and habits of thought 

but through the figure of man, immortal yet still 

painfully recognizable. Gulliver, hearing of the 

immortals, cries out "as in a Rapture," exclaiming 

upon the wisdom and happiness which they must have 

201


achieved. And he is only too willing to tell his 

hearers how he would plan his life, if he were a 

Struldbrug, to bring the greatest possible benefit to 

himself and his country. In fact, of course, the 

immortal and aged creatures, though free from the 

fear of death, are yet as full of fears and 

wretchedness as any other men: being what we are, we 

will always find occasion to display those vices 

which as human beings we •will always have, however 

long we may live. The Struldbrugs certainly do not 

keep their minds free and disengaged, and for them 

the prospect of endless life does not conjure up 

visions of endless improve-nient in wisdom and 

virtue. 

They regard their immortality as a "dreadful 

Prospect" even as other men regard their death, and 

indeed they long to die as did the wretched Sibyl in 

Petronius's Satyricon, regarding with great jealousy 

those of their acquaintance who go "to an Harbour of 

Rest, to which they themselves never can hope to 

arrive." 16 Immortal man is still man, limited in his 

capacity for growth, sinful, fearful, dissatisfied; 

the somber simplicity of the passage, and indeed of 

the whole of the visit to Glubbdubdrib, is 

reminiscent of Johnson's methods rather than of 

Swift's, and the message is essentially similar. 

Gulliver, who has dreamed of being a king, a general, 

or a great lord, and now dreams of being a 

Struldbrug, has to learn the same lesson as the 

Prince of Abyssinia: that life is a serious, 

202


difficult, and above all a moral undertaking, and 

thought no Tyrant could invent a Death into which I 

would not run with Pleasure from such a Life," 

The voyage to Laputa is a voyage of illusion, 

the escape from facts, ends in a darker reality than 

any Gulliver has yet encountered. Gulliver himself, 

in this book, becomes a part of the world of illusion 

and distorted values. Already in the earlier voyages 

the shifting, inconsistent quality which Gulliver 

shares with all Swift's satiric mouthpieces has been 

made to contribute to effects of relativity, and to 

suggest the hold of physical circumstances over 

mankind. That he is, generally, a different man in 

Brobdingnag and in Lilliput i s made into part of 

Swift's presentation of human nature. In the "Voyage 

to Laputa," any still surviving notion that Gulliver 

is a safe guide through these strange countries is 

ended. 

9.5 The Moral vision of Swift 

Samuel H. Monk remarks “Gulliver's Travels is a 

complex book. It is, of course, a satire on four 

asgects of man: the physical, the political, the 

intellectual, and the mofalTThe last three are 

inseparable, and when Swift writes ofone he always 

has in view the others. It is also a brilliant parody 

oftravel literature; and it is at once science 

fiction and a witty parodyof science fiction. It 

expresses savage indignation at the folios, vices, 

203


/and stupidities of men, and everywhere implicit in 

the book as a whole is an awareness of man's tragic 

insufficiency. But at the same time it is a great 

comic masterpiece, a fact that solemn and too- 

sensitive readers often miss.’ 

Swift's satire was written in anger, contempt, or 

disgust, but it was written to promote self-knowledge 

in the faith that self-knowledge will lead to right 

action. Swift did not wish us to laugh but beyond the 

mirth and liveliness are gravity, anger, anxiety, 

frustration and he meant us to experience them fully, 

there is an abyss below this fantastic world the 

abyss of corrupt human nature. He is the great master 

of shock. With perfect control of tone and pace, with 

perfect timing, he startles us into an awareness of 

this abyss and its implications. We are forced to 

gaze into the stupid, evil, brutal heart of humanity, 

and when we do, the laughter that Swift has evoked is 

abruptly silenced. The surface of the book is comic, 

but at its center is tragedy, transformed through 

style and tone into icy irony.” 

Gulliver in all respects is a goodman. He is 

simple, direct, uncomplicated. At the outset he is 

full of naive good will, and, though he grows less 

naive and more critical as a result of his voyaging 

among remote nations, he retains his benevolence 

throughout the first three voyages. The four voyages 

"into several remote nations of the world," are so 

arranged as to attain a climactic intensification of 

204


tone as we travel through increasing darkness into 

the black heart of humanity.jBut the forward movement 

is interrupted by the third voyage, a macabre scherzo 

on science, politics, economics as they are practiced 

by madmen—Swift's term for those who misuse and abuse 

human reason. The first two voyages, Gulliver is made 

aware of his disproportion;" placed on this isthmus 

of a middle state, in the voyage to Lilliput he looks 

down the chain of being and knows himself an awkward, 

if kindly, giant in that delicate kingdom; in the 

voyage to Brobdingnag he looks up the chain and 

discovers a race of "superior beings," among whom his 

pride shrivels through the humiliating Knowledge of 

his own physical insignificance. The emphasis here is 

upon size, the physical; but it is none the less 

notable that Lilliputia calls into operation 

Gulliver's engaging kindliness and gentleness, and 

that Brobdingnag brings out his moral and physical 

courage. 

Gulliver, who seemed lovable and humane among 

the Lilliputians,-appears an ignominious afld morally 

insensitive being in contrast to the enlightened and 

benevolent Brobdingnagians. The Lilliputian's 

ingeniously capture the Hercules whom chance has cast 

on their shore; they humanely solve the problem of 

feeding him; their pretty land and their fascinating 

little city take our fancy. But in the end what do 

they prove to be? prideful, envious, rapacious, 

treacherous, cruel, , vengeful, jealous, and 

hypocritical. Their primitive social and political 

205


systems have been corrupted; they are governed by an 

Emperor who is ambitious totally to destroy the 

neighboring kingdom, and by courtiers and ministers 

who are chosen not for their fitness for office, but 

for their skill in walking the tightrope, leaping 

over sticks or .creeping under them. 

"Climbing," Swift once remarked, "is performed 

in the same Posture with Creeping." These little 

people, like Gulliver himself, are an instance of the 

disproportion of man. Their vices, their appetites, 

their ambitions, their passions are not commensurate 

with their tiny stature. They appear to Gulliver as 

he and his kind must appear to the higher orders of 

beings—as venomous and contemptibly petty. In 

Brobdingnag we meet creatures ten times the size of 

Europeans, 'and we share Gulliver's anxiety lest 

their moral natures be as brutish as their bodies. 

But the reverse is true; and through a violent and 

effective shift of symbol, tone, and point of view, 

In the questions which the king asks and which 

Gulliver meets with only an embarrassed silence, the 

voice of morality is heard condemning the 

institutions of the modern world. And the verdict of 

a moral being on European man is given in words as 

icy as controlled contempt can make them: "But, by 

what I have gathered from your own Relation, and the 

Answers I have with much Pains wringed and extorted 

from you; I cannot but conclude the Bulk of your 

Natives to be the most pernicious Race of little 

206


odious Vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon 

the Surface of the Earth." Such a conclusion is 

inevitable, for the King is high-minded, benevolent, 

and, in Swift's sense of the word, rational: i.e., he 

and his people think practically, not theoretically; 

concretely, not metaphysically; simply, not 

intricately. Brobdingnag is a Swiftian Utopia of 

com.mon good sense and morality; and Gulliver, 

conditioned by the corrupt society from which he. 

comes, appears naive, blind, and insensitive to moral 

values/His account of the history of England in the 

seventeenth century evokes the King's crushing 

retort: “... it was only an Heap of Conspiracies, 

Rebellions, Murders, Massacres, Revolutions, 

Banishments; the very worst Effects that Avarice, 

Faction, Hypocracy, Perfidiousness, Cruelty, Rage, 

Madness, Hatred, Envy, Lust, Malice, and Ambition 

could produce.” 

Houyhnhnms are the embodiment of pure reason. 

They know neither love nor grief nor lust nor 

ambition. They cannot lie; indeed they have no word 

for lying and are hard put to it to understand the 

meaning of opinion, Their society is an aristocracy, 

resting upon the slave labor of the Yahoos and the 

work of an especially-bred servant class. With icy, 

stoical calm they face the processes of life— 

marriage, childbirth, accident, death. Their society 

is a planned society that has achieved the mild 

anarchy that many Utopian dreamers have aspired to. 

They practice eugenics, and since they know no lust, 

207


they control the size of their population; children 

are educated by the state; their agrarian economy is 

supervised by a democratic council; government is 

entirely conducted by periodic assemblies. 

The Houyhnhnms feel natural | iuman affection for 

each other, but they love every one equally. It is 

Gulliver, not Swift, who is dazzled by the Houyhnhnms 

' and who aspires to rise above the human condition 

and to become pure intelligence as these horses and 

the angels are the most powerful single symbol in all 

Swift is the Yahoos. They


repelled by Don Pedro's clothes, food. 

“In the words of Gulliver my Reconcilement to 

the Yahoo-kind in general might not be so difficult, 

if they would be content with those Vices and Follies 

only which Nature hath entitled them to. I am not in 

the least provoked at the Sight of a Lawyer, a 

Pickpocket, a Colonel, a Fool, a Lord, a Gamester, a 

Politician, a Whoremunger, a Physician, an Evidence, 

a Suborner, an Attorney, a Traytor, or the like: This 

is all according to the due Course of Things: But 

when I behold a Lump of Deformity, and Diseases both 

of Body and Mind, smitten with Pride, it immediately 

breaks all the Measures of my Patience; neither shall 

I ever be able to comprehend how such an Animal and 

such a Vice could tally together”. 7 

The grim joke is that Gulliver himself is the 

supreme instance of a creature smitten with pride. 

His education has somehow failed. He has voyaged into 

several remote nations of the world, but the journeys 

vere not long, because of course he has never moved 

outside the bounds of human nature. The countries he 

visited, like the Kingdom of Heaven, are all within 

us. The ultimate danger of these travels was 

precisely the one that destroyed Gulliver's humanity— 

the danger that in his explorations he would discover 

something that he was not strong enough to face. This 

befell him, and he took refuge in a sick and morbid 

pride that alienated him from his species and taught 

him i the gratitude of the Pharisee—"Lord, I thank 

209


Thee that I am not. 

9.6 Gulliver’s Travels as a Satire on Man. 

Gulliver's Travels is divided in to four books recounting the 

adventures of Gulliver in four lands. The main burden of Gulliver’s 

Travels is satirical and Swift set out to show man in the most 

despicable form. Swift once said to Pope, "I heartily hate and detest 

that animal called man," and this book is an elaboration of that 

attitude. He magnifies man into a giant, and then diminishes him into 

a manikin, and he finds him wicked, insolent and mean. He regards man 

in his wisdom, and he finds him a fool. In despair, in the last book 

of the Travels, he turns from man altogether, and in the brute 

creation he discovers a charity and sagacity before which humanity 

grovels as a creature , beastly beyond measure. 

In the first book of Gulliver's Travels, Gulliver's ship is 

wrecked at Lilliput where the inhabitants are six inches tall— except 

their emperor, "taller by almost the breadth of my nail". Here the 

satire obviously consists in showing human motives at work on a small 

scale, and in suggesting by the likeness of the Lilliputians to 

ourselves, the littleness of human affairs, and especially the 

pettiness of political intrigues. The arts by which the officers of 

the government keep their places, such as cutting capers on a tight 

rope for the entertainment of the emperors, remind us of the quality 

of statesmanship in both Swift's day and our own. The dispute over 

the question at which end an egg should properly be broken which 

plunged Lilliput into the civil war, is a comment on ' the 

seriousness of party divisions in the greater world. 

Gulliver's next voyage, recounted in the second book, is to 

Brobdingnang, where the people are as large in comparison with man as 

the Lilliputians are small. Once more his adventures are a tale of 

wonder behind which lurks Swift's contempt for man's meanness. 

Gulliver tells the giant beings by whom he is a mere manikin, of the 

world from which he has come. Among other things he tells of the 

invention of gunpowder and the use of instruments of warfare. "The 

king was struck with horror at the description If had given of these 

terrible engines. He was amazed how so important and grovelling an 

insect as I could entertain these inhuman ideas." 

The first two books of the Travels, in spite of the satirical 

210


tone, 

have a charm and vivacity that delight the old and the young. The 

satire 

lurks in the allegory, but it is so delicately tinselled over that it 

does 

not repel. The crowded incidents are plausible and lively, and they 

are often spiced with a quaint and alluring humour. 

Here his comments upon mankind are shrewd and arresting, as 

well as satirical, 

There is playfulness of fancy, a lightness of touch about the two 

books and a simplicity of treatment that gives it a readier access of 

appeal. 

In the third book we have Gulliver's voyage to Laputa and 

other curious places embodying Swift's contempt for pedantry and for 

useless 'scientific' experiment. In the fourth voyage a burning 

indictment of man's tortuous and sly reasoning as compared to the 

noble inhabitants of' Houyhnhnm land is highlighted who within the 

shapes of horses embody 'perfection of nature.' The beastly Yahoos 

represent Swift's conception of man living in a degenerate state of 

nature. The evil instincts of 'civilized' men are here again bitterly 

portrayed. 

9.7 GULLIVER’S TRAVELS AS A POLITICAL SATIRE 

The six-inch high creatures of lilliput are 

perfectly conceived to show the mental and moral 

smallness of man, the pettiness of the concerns about 

which we are so pompous and self important. For 

Swift eighteenth century party politics, with its 

struggles for office and for court favour, was one of 

the areas of human activity where such smallness and 

pretensions could be seen. 

Gulliver’s adventures in Lilliput are riddled 

with more allusions to contemporary political evens 

211


and personalities than any other part of the travels: 

Part I of Gulliver’s Travels, ostensibly a satire on 

human greatness, can be seen, if one looks a little 

deeper, to be simply on attack on England, on the 

dominant Whig Party and on the war with France. 

The Tiny ruler of Lilliput whose country 

measures twelve miles round is no mere king but the 

mighty Emperor, delight and terror of the Universe 

whose head strikes against the Sun. At court, 

Gulliver sees the candidates for great office 

competing before the Emperor, and the skill they are 

required to show is calculated by Swift to point to 

the kind of quality needed for political success 

under George. I. The fact that a Lilliputian rope 

looks to Gulliver like a slender white thread 

increases our sense of the dexterous balance required 

for survival in the precarious world of eighteenth 

century politics. Similarly the art of jumping over 

or crawling under stick for the reward of what looks 

to Gulliver like a colored silk thread-the ribbons of 

the order of the Garter (blue), Bath (red) and 

Thistle (green) suggests both the subservience 

demanded by Lilliputian Emperor and the worthlessness 

of the honour for which the ‘great persons’ compete. 

Swift of course, disapproved of George I’s government 

led by the Whig Sir Robert Walpole. Under Walpole’s 

leadership political life was thought by many to be 

more than usually corrupt, and his politics were 

disliked by Swift. Walpole figures in the story as 

the supremely skilful rope dancer Flimnap. The 

cushion that broke his fall represents the Duchess of 

212


Kendal, one of George I’s mistresses. Reldresal is 

thought to be Lord, Cateret, a personal friend of 

Swift’s but a political opponent in the affair of 

wood’s half pence. Many of the details of the 

Lilliputian political scene, and of Gulliver’s 

relations with the Emperor and his ministers relate 

to England under George I and his predecessor Queen 

Anne. 

In his account of the two parties in the country 

distinguished by the use of high heels and low heels, 

Swift satirises English Political parties, and the 

intrigues that centred around the Prince of Wales. 

Religious feuds were laughed at in an account of a 

problem which was dividing the people; ‘Should eggs 

be broken at the big end or the little end?’ All this 

is a reference to current politics at the time of 

Swift. Gulliver stands largely for Belingbroke, the 

secretary of the state from 1710 – 1714. 

In Lilliput, although Gulliver is under a strong 

guard, he is unavoidably expressed to the 

‘Impertinence’ and malice’ of the ‘rabble’ some of 

whom sheet arrows at him. But the colonel delivers 

six of the ring leaders into his hands. Gulliver 

frightens each one by pretending he will eat the man 

alive and then setting them free. It was under 

Bolingbroke, as Secretary of State that the 

Government was trying to stamp out journalistic 

opposition by means of frequent arrests rather than 

by court action. Swift, libeled like the government 

has thus created an allegorical detail from 

Belingbroke’s method of dealing with the dart- 

213


throwing hack writers of 1710-1714. 

The fire in the palace is put off by Gulliver 

urinating over it. Case interprets it as the Treaty 

of Utrecht ending the war of the Spanish Succession. 

Gulliver’s story is based on Bolinbroke’s adventures, 

with only minor references to Oxford. Swift mentions 

the displeasure of the Emperor of Lilliput when 

Gulliver makes friends with the ambassadors from 

Blufuscu and agrees to visit their emperor, thus 

creating a suspicion of high treason. The proposed 

visit to the French Court, and the suspicion of his 

disaffection would be due to Bolinbroke’s having seen 

the Pretender during that visit. The fourth article 

of the impeachment against Gulliver for treason 

corresponds to that against Belingbroke and 

Gulliver’s flight to Blefuscu is a close parallel of 

Boling broke’s flight to France in 1715. 

Lilliputians are proud, envious, rapacious, 

treacherous, cruel, vengeful, jealous, and 

hypocritical. Their emperor is ambitious totally to 

destroy the neighbouring king. The Lilliputians, like 

the nations, regard accession of strength primarily 

as a means to overcome their rivals. Though Gulliver 

is willing to defeat the aggressive intentions of the 

Blefuscans by capturing their navy, he draws the line 

firmly at being used to subjugate and enslave them. 

To punish him for this the Lilliputians states-man 

resolve to put him to death. The first voyage exposes 

man in his myopic self- esteem. 

Thus the High heels and the low heels are the 

214


Tories and the wigs, the Big and Little endians 

stand for the catholics and the protestants, and 

Lilliput and Blefuscu correspond to England and 

France. Firth identified skyresh Bolgolam, Gulliver’s 

chief opponent, with the earl of Nottingham, who 

became a personal enemy of swift in the years before 

1714. A.E. Case postulated that Gulliver’s career in 

Lilliput represents the joint political fortunes of 

Oxford and Boling broke during the latter half of 

Anne’s reign, when the two men shared the leadership 

of the Tory party. The inventory of his personal 

effects refers to the attempt by the whigs in that 

year to implicate Harley in the treason committed by 

one of the clerks in his office. His release 

symbolizes Harley’s return to power in 1710, the 

conditions attached to it by Belgelam representing 

Nottingham’s amendment on ‘No peace without Spain 

which was added to the House of Lord’s address in 

1711. The reaction of the empress is equated with 

Queen’s growing disgust with Oxford’s policies and 

person, and his final dismissal in 1714. The 

Lilliputian ministers named by Gulliver as being his 

main opponents case identified as members of George 

I’s cabinet, Reldresal representing Townsend the 

secretary of state who prepared dealing with the 

fallen minister’s leniently. 

Gulliver who has deserved the highest gratitude 

from the Lilliputians, is impeached for capital 

offences chiefly for making water within the 

precincts of the burning royal palace Under – colour 

of extinguishing the fire, and for traitorously 

215


refusing to reduce the empires of Blefuscu to a 

province and put to death all the Big Endians. The 

courts debate en how to dispose off Gulliver is 

corrosive satire, savage and irenic. They decide to 

blind Gulliver and to starve him to death. 

Then there is a delightful side kick at all 

government officials. Because Gulliver was such an 

attraction people were flecking into town from all 

over the island, leaving farming and household duties 

in a state of neglect. The emperor therefore issues 

proclamation saying that anybody who had seen 

Gulliver once must return home and must not again 

presume to come within fifty yards of his house 

without license from court, whereby adds Gulliver, 

‘the secretaries of state get considerable fees.’ 

In this voyage swift also attacks the time 

honoured target, the disproportionate aims for which 

nations go to war. The article of impeachment, and 

especially the alleged reasons for Gulliver’s crimes, 

are so flimsy that swift is here hitting at the 

processes of the law in Britain. In Lilliput a set 

of puny insects, or animalcules in human shapes are 

ridiculously engaged in a affairs of importance. In 

Broadening the monsters of enormous size are 

employed in trifles. In the fourth voyage, he gives 

an account of the political state of the political 

state of Europe. 

Gullivers conversations with the king of 

Brobdingnag are often quoted as example of Swift’s 

216


satiric force. In the first encounter with the king 

that Gulliver reports, the king observes. 

How contemptible a thing was human grander 

which could be mimicked by such 

diminutive Insects as I 2 , 

At Brobdingnag Gulliver is part pet, part freak of 

doll, and in each of these aspects his experiences 

enable Swift to indulge in satirical exposure of 

human pride and pretension. The King of Brodingbag 

is horrified when Gulliver offers him a way to 

complete dominion over his subjects by teaching him 

to make gunpowder. The King is baffled by the 

concept of political science as to how could the art 

of government be reduced to a science? The King’s 

comment makes us aware of our pettiness of the 

disproportion of our recent of the shocking 

difference between what we profess and what we are. 

But Swift uses the good giants to strike an 

unexpected blow at human vanity. Gulliver’s tiny 

stature and comparative importance lend a particular 

irony to his grandiose account of western 

civilization. It is of course the ludicrous size of 

his tiny visitor which prompts the king to comment on 

the folly and pride of human beings. 

Gulliver boasts to the king about thousand’s of 

books in Europe written on politics and the art of 

government. Again the king’s reaction is unexpected. 

For him the art of government consists almost 

entirely in common sense and reason, justice and 

lenity, and speedy decisions in all legal cases. 

217


Thus in his Gulliver’s Travels Swift has 

successfully exposed the vain pride vain pride and 

absurd whims of monarchs, the stupidity of men with 

titles, the intrigues, of courtiers, the corruption 

and greed of politicians, the false glory of 

conquers, the treachery and meanness of court 

favorites and the corrupt and unscrupulous nature of 

politicians. 

Gulliver who seemed lovable and humane among the 

Lilliputians, appears an ignominious and morally 

insensitive being in contrast to the enlightened and 

benevolent Brobdingnagians. Since Gulliver is ‘We’, 

his shame, insufficiency, and ludicrousness are ours. 

The giant king is high-minded, benevolent and, in 

Swift’s sense of the work, rational i.e., he and his 

people thing practically, not theoretically, 

concretely, not metaphysically, simply, not 

intricately. Brobdingnag is a Swiftian Utepia of 

common good sense and morality, and Gulliver 

conditioned by the corrupt society from which he 

comes, appears, native, blind and insensitive to 

moral values. 

In the country of faints, the animal imagery is 

more explicit; the giant is half afraid of Gulliver, 

as of ‘a small diangerous animal’s like a weasel. 

The first impression Gulliver makes is of an animal. 

The tiny Gulliver, so self important about the great 

affairs of his diminutive country is absurb to the 

huge king; he is an insect. 

218


The Brobdingnagians, as Gulliver explains in his 

epilogue, are the least corrupted of the Yahoo 

species, and their ‘Wise maxims in morality and 

government it would be our happiness to observe’. 

But not all the Brobdingnagians are superior beings. 

The treatment of Gulliver by his farmer captor is 

pitiless and in human, he intends, without a qualm, 

to work him to death much as contemporary society 

treated Negro slaves. Gulliver’s portrait of the 

king of Brobdingnag agrees in many essentials with 

the character of temple. In politics the King of 

Brobdingnag professed both to abominate and despise 

all mystery, refinement and intrigue, either (of) a 

prince or minister. 

Though less vicious than the pigmies, the 

Brobdingnagians possess a fair complement of human 

weakness. Error abounds even among the least 

corrupted of mankind. 

The voyage to Laputa, gives us the most 

elaborate ‘mechanical’ image of the state. Here the 

actual functioning of the government depends on 

managing the flying island and its lode stones. This 

allows an ironical comparison to be made with the 

political situation and oppressive centre of power in 

London. The Lapouta – Balnibarbi situation, is the 

impasse between England and Ireland, is seen as 

allowing free scope for misapplied reason in social, 

political and economic matters where bright ideas 

solely motivated by self interests seem better than 

the traditional values of good government 

responsibility, duty, compassion and love, informed 

219


by intelligence. The flying island of Laputa seems 

to be the English court. 

The King and his court are devoted entirely to 

two subjects, music and mathematics, the most 

obstruct of sciences rather than as an art. Those 

who held this view began to demand that the state 

should be run by experts well versed in mathematics 

and other sciences, rather than by cultured amatures, 

Swift’s dislike of government by ‘experts’ is most 

clearly demonstrated in Gullivers description of the 

flying island of Laputa. Here the political 

arithmeticians are completely in change, and they are 

making as complete a mess of things. Gulliver’s 

marration of affairs in Laputa and Balnibarbi is a 

political satire on the whigs and the tories and on 

Anglo- Irish relations. The whigs were regarded as 

the champlions of professional government. and the 

Tories as the up holders of the ancient constitution. 

The first favoured the employment of experts in 

government, the 

second looked upon them as a virus introduced into 

the body politic, which was never really healthy 

unless cared for by honest country gentlemen. The 

flying island can be a symbol for the English court 

in which case Balinbarbi represents the whole of 

Great Britain But laputa can stand for England and 

lindalino for Ireland 

There is also a personal element in the political 

220


satire. Swift had spent many vain weeks in 1708 

trying to get the government to make a definite move 

on the subject of extending queen Anne’s bountry to 

Ireland . He never forged the frustrations which he 

suffered from their perpetual procrastination and 

their indifference to Irish affairs. His reception 

from the whigs of Anne’s reign was surely in his 

mind when he wrote of Gulliver’s (receptions from the 

king of Luputa. 

Gulliver praises the progress of the laputans in the 

science of astronomy and describes the revelt of the 

people of lindaline. They erected high towers, with 

strong magnets at the top of each which effectively 

neutralized the magnets of laputa and the king of the 

latter was eventually forced to grant the request of 

the lindalinians. 

In the Academy of projectors in lagade Gulliver 

visits the school of political projectors. There is a 

doctor who relates physical well – being closely to 

political judgements and administers the appropriate 

medicines to every senator, who after arguing any 

case, should give his vote ‘ directly contrary to 

what he had argued, be cause if that were done, the 

result would infallibly terminate in the good of the 

public ‘ He even suggests that the senators should 

be operated on and part of the brains of one should 

be transferred to another since the mingling of 

brains would induce moderation. Gulliver visits the 

island of luggage, where he is required literally, to 

221


lick the dust before the king but is otherwise 

hospitably received It is not only the English 

political life of his time which he thus dissects, 

the monarchy itself the paraphernalia that surrounds 

it the courts and countries the debating assembles, 

the struggles of parties, the wiles of the favorites 

of both sexes everything upon which in fact, rests 

the contemporary administration of Europe is 

irremediably damaged by this corrosive satire. The 

object of ridicule is the absurdity of human 

government. 

The flying island, in its devious and sensitive 

oblique movements, suggests the relationship of king 

and country. Laputa is ultimately dependent upon 

Dalnibarbi, its motions only allowed by the magnetic 

quality of the ‘kings’ Dominious. It is this quality 

which has allowed the Laputan king to establish his 

power but there is a reciprocal dependence, for if 

either side pressed its power too far the result 

would be general ruin. The king’s last resource, in 

case of defiance from the populace of Balnibarbi, is 

to let the flying island drop upon their heads. But 

this though it would certainly destroy both houses 

and men, would at the same time damage the adamant of 

Laputa itself. 

Laputa signifies a condemnation of political, 

scientific and moral irresponsibility, For England 

the symptoms include the Royal society the Walpole 

towns head fued and the personal vices of George As 

222


the decay of agriculture, industry, and trade In such 

a scene to busy oneself with fantastic inquiries and 

useless experiments appears criminal. 

In the fourth voyage we get a picture of an anarchist 

society, not governed by lawn the ordinary sense but 

by the dictates of reason which are voluntarily 

accepted by every one. Swift was a Tory anarchist, 

despising authority while disbelieving in liberty, 

and preserving the aristocratic out look while 

focusing clearly that the existing aristocracy is 

degenerate and contemptible. 

In recent years critics have tended 

increasingly, to find the Houynhms satire upon the 

neoteric humanism of shaft burry or the Deists. 

9.8 Gulliver’s Travels as a Satire on Humanity 

Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels may be seen as a 

controlled display of man’s nature and his social 

life. It presents Swift’s vision of the essential 

contradictions of human nature, of the war between 

rational control and animal drive, between just 

judgement and pride, between ignorance and knowledge, 

between true belief and illusion, between freedom and 

tyranny. 

The intention of the imaginary voyages was 

almost always to satirize the existing European 

order, and it did so by playing up the innocence, 

manliness and high ethical standards of the untutored 

223


people whom the voyages claimed to have met. These 

voyages tend alike to stress the goodness of 

unspoiled primitive man. Swift makes use of animals 

as his symbols in order, to make it quite plain that 

pure rationality is not available to man. His irony 

is directed against all the common failings of 

mankind. All human institutions from the family to 

the state are the targets of his irony. 

In Lilliput, Gulliver’s body is grosser than 

he can imagine and the Lilliputians seem more 

delicate than in fact they are. Gulliver’s ineptness 

among the Lilliputians like his insignificance among 

the Brobdingnagians is not a weakness which can be 

attributed to any identifiable group or person; it is 

the result of his normal, his universal human 

qualities, in large part simply of his ordinary 

human size. The moral frailties he displays- 

inflexibility and vanity, for example are generic 

human weaknesses. The Lilliputian stature is 

employed to augment the ludicrous effect of their 

complacency, arrogance and short sightedness, all of 

which are displayed as human failings. 

Gulliver discovers in the Lilliputians admirable 

qualities absent from the English, For example their 

treatment of Children, which consists of an odd 

mixtures of rational and common sense and a Swiftian 

mistrust amounting to dislike of human sentiments. 

Swift’s ideas regarding the education of children are 

outlined in his description of the educational 

224


systems of the Lilliputians and the Houyhnms. At 

both places parents are not entrusted with the 

education of their own children. As infants they are 

sent to nurseries where they are taught by expert 

professors. The aim of education in both places is 

not to make the students merely literate but to 

develop in them noble qualities of character. 

Gulliver treats the Lilliputians kindly, but 

when he leaves he reveals how readily he still thinks 

of them, because they are smaller than the humans he 

is used to-as not so different from animals. As he 

is taking the tiny cattle home, ‘to propagate the 

bread’, so he would have taken’ a dozen of the 

natives, ‘without considering them as individual 

humans, who might be distressed at being so treated. 

The voyage to Brobdingnag contains such sarcasm 

on the structure of the human body, as too plainly 

show us, that the author was unwilling to lose any 

opportunity of debasing and ridiculing his own 

species. Swift’s purpose is to make an assault on 

human pride, particularly on the beauty of the female 

form. Swift makes us share Gulliver’s disgust at the 

cancerous breasts and lousy bodies of the beggars; at 

the blotched color, the huge pores, the coarse hairs. 

Swift shows that our beauty is only apparent, our 

disportion is real. Swift’s satire on women in 

general is very sharp. Women in his view are 

the embodiment of physical, 

intellectual and moral waste under a fair exterior. 

225


He regarded women as loathsome creatures and marriage 

as a calamity for man. 

Voyage to Laputa brings out Swift’s satire on 

the abuse of learning. The Laputans neglect 

practical matters to indulge in theory. Their houses 

are illbuilt without even one right angle in any 

apartment, and this defect arises from the contempt 

they bear to practical geometry, which they despise 

as vulgur. From Laputa Gulliver goes to Balnibarbi 

and its capital Lagage, and in the description of the 

Academy of projectors in Lagado, Swift satirizes 

inventors and promoters of schemes for improving 

everything. A new method of teaching is as follows: 

The preparation and demonstration were 

fairly written 

caphalick 

upon a 

on a thin wafer, with ink composed of a 

_incture. This the student was to swallow 

fasting stomach, and for three days 

following eat 

digested, 

the 

nothing but bread and water. As the water 

the tincture mounted to his brain, bearing 

proposition along with it. 

Laputans with their absorption is music, mathematics, 

and astronomy, represent specifically the members of 

226


the Royal Society but more generally all those who 

believe that, by turning away from the impressions of 

the senses and the ordinary concerns of human nature 

they can ignore sublunary confusion and reach eternal 

truth. The sources for nearly all the theories of the 

works at the academy of Lagade came from Swift’s 

contemporary scientists and particularly in the 

philosophical transactions of the Royal Society. 

The account of the miscalculations of Laputan 

tailers in making-Gulliver’s clothes is a satire on 

Newton who makes a mistake in his calculations of the 

distance of the sun. 

The Laputans calculate that after a certain 

number of years the sun would lose its heat and they 

are sure that it would be the end of the world. Such 

fears are not original to the Laputans. Many 

scientists of that age have pandered over the 

possibility of such calamities. It is the influence 

of Newton which makes people fear that their planet 

might one day fall into the sun. 

Among the professors of Lagade is a man born 

blind who has several apprentices in his own 

condition; and who could distinguish colors by 

feeling and smellings. Swift is here attacking Robert 

Boyle’s Experiments and observations upon colours. 

Another projector whom Gulliver saw it work was 

trying to calcineice into gun powder. This is an 

attack on Boyle’s Experiments and observations upon 

227


cold in which he had suggested this idea. 

One experiments at the Academy want to change 

human excretion into original food. There is also an 

architect who wanted to construct houses by beginning 

at the roof and then coming down to the foundation. 

At the school of languages, one of the experiments is 

to simplify the language by retaining only 

monosyllabic words and nouns. 

Their efforts are summed up by an illustrious 

member who has been given the title of the ‘The 

Universal Artist’ and who has been for the 

thirty years directing his followers in various 

ways of converting things into their opposites, thus 

turning the useful, into the unusable and the vital 

into the atrophied. Air is made tangible and marble 

left. land is sown with chaff and naked sheep are 

bred and perhaps as an epitome of the achievement of 

the Academy of the heeves of a living hoarse are 

being petrified. 

From Lagade Gulliver makes his way to 

Gulubbddubdrib, where again he is in a world of no 

meaning, of delusion and death, darker and more 

shadowy than Laputa. The final mockery of the pursuit 

of progress comes when Gulliver visits luggage and 

meets the immortal struid-bruggs. These, so far from 

leading the idyllic life he imagined would be the lot 

of a human freed from the fear of death, were the 

most miserable of beings. Although they have eternal 

228


life they do not have eternal youth, so that physical 

and mental decay continue until ‘they acquired an 

additional ghastliness in proportion to their number 

of years, which is not be described’. 

It has been fully demonstrated that in his 

satire of scientists and projectors swift made use of 

the knowledge of actual experiments which were being 

undertaken by members of the Royal Society, possibly 

drawn to his attention by his friend Dr. Arbuthnet. 

Swift was not opposed to all forms of progress. What 

he opposes is what he regards as artificial, as 

distinct from natural progress. The political 

arithmeticians appear ludicrously absentminded and 

impractical when Gulliver tells of the Flappers who 

attend them to keep their minds on the immediate 

subject under discussion and of the ill-fitting suits 

of clothes produced by their refined method of 

measuring. Gulliver sees for himself the effects of 

their 

schemes when he looks around Balnibarbi. There they 

have inspired projects designed to work economic 

miracles. The projects are not brought to perfection 

and the whole country lay miserably waste, the houses 

in ruins, and the people without food or clothes. By 

contrast the estates of Gulliver’s friend lord Munodi 

who used old fashioned methods were flowing with milk 

and honey. Balnibarbi is badly cultivated, its people 

in misery and want. 

The Luptans, though they are in human shape, are 

229


more obviously allegorical creatures than any in 

Gulliver’s Travels. Their effect is made through at 

the same time it tends to destroy itself. The 

Houyhnhnms are a race of noble horses who live 

according to the laws of reason and nature. Serving 

them and despised by them are the beastly Yahoos, a 

degenerate species of man. Gulliver himself 

recognizes how detestable the yahoos are before he 

realises to his ‘horror and astonishment’, that these 

‘abominable animals’ had perfect human figures. 

Gulliver is appalled by the bestiality of the yahoos, 

recoiling from them as creatures for whom, he had 

natural antipathy. Yet it is demonstrated that the 

yahoos are men, although completely degenerate men. 

The life of reason asked by the Houyhnmnms is 

curiously dead. George orwell has argued that the 

reason which governs them is really a desire for 

death. He says that they are exempt from love, 

friendship, curiosity fear and sorrow except in their 

feeling of anger and hatred towards the Yahoos, who 

occupy rather the same place in their community as 

the Jews in Nazi Germany. Gulliver concludes the 

voyage by describing his difficulty in reconciling 

himself to life among yahoos in England after his 

experience with the noble Houyhnhnm race, and he ends 

with a final bread side against human pride. 

In this voyage Gulliver discovers the shocking 

recognition that man, in his brute nakedness, is 

indeed a Yahoo, his ugliness vainly disguised by 

230


civilized artifice, his animal powers merely vitiated 

by refinements which are actually corruptions. The 

second discovery emerges largely in Gullivers 

dialogues with the Houyhnhnm master, it is simply 

that those systems which we regards the hall marks of 

civilization law military science, government, 

breeding, medicine, and the best represent the 

institutionalizing, the elaboration of our animal 

indications toward hatred, avarice and sensuality. 

Gulliver’s own account of western society produces a 

third discovery, unequivocally advanced by the 

Houyhnhnm master himself who defines mankind as: 

what 

made no 

aggravate 

.....a sort of animals to whose share, by 

accident he could not conjecture some small 

pittance of reason had fallen, where of we 

other use than by its assistance to 

our natural corruptions, and to acquire new 

ones which nature had not given us. 

The superiority of the Houhynhnms is discovered 

by Gulliver as proof of the fact that a horse-even a 

horse could, if endowed with that genuine reason on 

which man falsely prides himself, achieve a serene, 

beign and cleanly prosperity which is the opposite, 

in every important respect to the present state of 

civilized man. The traditional view was that the 

Yahoos represent man as he actually is, self-seeking, 

sensual and depraved while the Houyhnhnm symbolize 

231


what men ought to be, altruistic rational and 

cultured. 

Yahoos have a strong disposition to nasty ness 

and dirt. Their eating habits are equally filthy. 

Their undistinguishing appetite to devour every thing 

that came in their way, whether herbs, roots, 

berries, corrupted flesh of animals or all mingled 

together rendered them odious. Excrement to the 

yahoos is no mere waste product but a magic 

instrument for self expression and aggression. In the 

Yahoo system of social indentation their leader had 

usually a favorite as like himself as he could get, 

whose employment was to lick his master’s feet and 

posteriors, and drive the female Yahoos to his 

kennel. As a constrast to the Yahoos, the horses do 

not shirk, do not lie, do no evil, and so the 

Houyhnhnms are industrious, truthful and virtuous. 

They have no word in their language to express 

anything that is evil, except what they borrow from 

the deformities or ill qualities of the Yahoos. 

Swift is attacking the Yahoo in each of the 

reader The good qualities are given the non-human 

form of the horse, and the bad qualities the nearly 

human form of the Yahoo. The etymology of the word 

Houyhnhnm means ‘horse’ but also the ‘perfection of 

nature’. Swift was trying to create a sort of utopia 

in his account of the life if ‘reason’ led by 

Houynhnhnms. It was a singularly dull and inhuman 

utopia. These noble horses never experience love or 

hope, curiosity or passions they take pleasure in sex 

232


and feel no more affection for their own off spring 

strictly limited to two per ‘family’ than for other 

foals. The only reference to music in their lives is 

the rather comic idea of a song composed in honour of 

the victors in their running race. They apparently 

have no conception of beauty, other than the 

comeliness of their chosen, mates, and even their 

poetry is apparently restricted to ‘exalted motions 

of friendship and benevolence and the praise of 

successful athletes. It is difficult to resist the 

conclusion that Swift was more concerned to satirize 

human nature in the Yahoos than to arouse our respect 

and admiration for the Houyhnhnms. 

Swift presents a number of descriptions of 

Yahoo behaviour, provokingly reminiscent of human 

behaviour but cruder; more contemptible in one sense, 

and yet more harmless. The pictures of the Yahoo 

treatment of a fallen favourite and a Yahoo female 

sexually excited can be cited as an example. It is 

the human equivalent that we are continually 

confronted with in these descriptions. Swift’s 

intensity and disgust are now here more striking than 

here when the Houyhnhnms compare. Gulliver with the 

Yahoo at first objects acknowledging ‘some 

resemblance’, but insists that he cannot account for 

their ‘degenerate and brutal nature’. The Houyhnhnms 

have none of this however, deciding that if Gulliver 

does differ he differs for the worse. The 

contemptuous view of mankind formed by the Houyhnhnms 

is the main satiric charge. 

233


Although the Houynhnhnms embody traits which 

Swift admired they do not represent his moral ideal 

for mankind. The Houyhnhnms combine deistic and 

stoic views of human nature – views against which as 

a devout Anglican, he fought. Swift wished men to be 

as a rational as possible; he believed that religion 

helps them to become so, and that reason leads them 

towards revelation. But the deistic efforts to build 

a rational system of morals outside revelation, he 

regarded as evil and absurb, Gulliver, occupying a 

position between the two, part beast, part reason, is 

Swift’s allegorical picture of the dual nature of 

man. 

Arthur.E. Case thinks that Gulliver’s Travels is 

a politico – sociological treatise much of which is 

covered in the medium of satire. The legend of Swift 

as a savage, mad, embittered misanthrope largely 

rests upon the reading of the last voyage of 

Gulliver. His hatred was directed against 

abstract man, against men 

existing and acting within semi-human or dehumanized 

racial or professional groups. Apparently he felt 

that when men submerge their individual judgement and 

moral beings in such groups they necessarily further, 

corrupt their already corrupted natures. Swift’s 

satire rises from philanthropy and not misanthropy. 

It is strange that in spite of the universal 

condemnation of mankind, Gulliver Travels remains a 

234


popular work. That is because nobody is hurt when 

every body is condemned. 

Swift is regarded as one of the greatest masters 

of satire in English literature. In Gulliver’s 

Travels Swift’s aim is to expose all the foibles, 

petty aims and ambitions of men and to show how these 

lie at the root of all man’s struggles. Swift wanted 

to entertain and instruct his readers, and to make 

them feel the vanity of human grandeur. Gulliver’s 

Travels is, in its totality, a satiric construction 

and the attractive fiction which supports the entire 

work is merely the mask or vehicle for sustained 

satiric assault. The surface of the book is comic but 

at its centre is tragedy, transformed through style 

and to into icy irony. 

Gulliver’s Travels resembles John Bunyan’s 

allegory Pilgrims Procress in its popularity and 

human interest. Bunyan used fiction for the practical 

purpose of converting the ungodly. Swift wrote to 

express his contempt and abhorrence for great mass of 

human kind. 

The outstanding characteristic of swift style is 

its clarity. This is the result of the simplicity of 

his language. His page is a model of plainness. Swift 

always hides his aim of attacking a vice behind a 

voile of superfluous playfulness. He possessed 

piercing insight into human nature. Swift is a great 

master of irony. The shock technique of irony has 

been used in Gulliver’s Travels. His irony is deadly 

and bitter and yet not lacking sincerity. We are 

235


forced to gaze into the stupid, evil brutal heart of 

humanity, and when we do, the laughter that swift has 

evoked is abruptly silenced. 

The effectiveness of Swift’s satire is derived 

from his mastery of the technique of grim irony, 

unrolled in pages of closely knit prose without 

padding or waste of words. To discover the virtues of 

English prose, a young writer may still, following 

the advice of Dr.Johnson, give his days and nights to 

the study of the volumes of Addison, but he will do 

better to substitute the paragraphs of Swift. 

Swift was skilled in the use of fable and 

dramatic technique. The use of fiction as sugar 

coating for a pill of bitter philosophy is one of his 

greatest distinctions. Secondly to this use of 

fiction must be added Swift’s wit and humour also an 

ingredient indispensable to good satire every where. 

As a convinced Tory, Swift opposes popular 

radicalism in politics, philosophy and religion when 

he satirizes existing government, he attackes not the 

theory but the abuse of authority. When he castigates 

bishops and prime ministers it is because they are 

unintelligent or corrupt. More difficult for our 

generation to accept is Swift’s open contempt for 

‘Free thinkers’ , but here, as elsewhere he 

is ahead of, not behind, his times, and may prove to 

be the prophet of the twenty first century. If Swift 

236


has been admired and feared more than he has been 

loved, it is partly because he does not write the 

language of heart, unromantic by temperament but it 

should be recalled that his age distrusted sentiment 

and disdained romance. In his refusal to reduce human 

suffering to statistics, in his concern for the 

starving in Ireland, in his horror of the effects of 

war, Swift writes with a compassion which speaks 

across the centuries. 

In the voyage to Lilliput, Swift satirizes the 

pettiness of political intrigues. The arts by which 

the officers of the government keep their places, 

such as cutting capers on a tight rope for the 

entertainment of the emperor, remind us of the 

quality of statesmanship in Swift’s day. The dispute 

over the question, at which end an egg should be 

broken, which plunged Lilliput into Civil war is a 

comment on the seriousness of party divisions in the 

greater world. Politics of England is ridiculed 

mainly in the voyage to Brobdingnag especially 

through the comments of the Giant King. Political 

satire becomes very bitter when we come to the flying 

island. Gulliver’s narration of affairs in laputa and 

Balnibarbi is a political satire on the whigs and the 

Tories and on Angle Irish relations. The voyage to 

Laputa is a scientific parody and burlesque of the 

experiments of contemporary scientists and schemes of 

other projectors. The entire myth of a voyage to the 

Houyhnhnml and is an instrument of one who in hatred 

of what he saw about him set out to vex the world. 

237


Hazlitt contends that there is nothing 

misanthropical in Swift, whose main purpose in 

Gulliver’s Travels is to strip empty pride and 

grandeur of the imposing air which external 

circumstances throw around then, Swift unlike pope 

restricts himself to general rather than personal 

attacks. His dissection of humanity shows a powerful 

mind relentlessly probing into the weaknesses and 

hypocrisy of mankind. 

Addison says that Swift is the greatest genius 

of his age. Saints bury has praised Swift for his 

talents. Sir Walter Scott, who edited Swift’s work 

thought Swift was irritability and savage indignation 

all compact, combined with an extraordinary but 

perverse genius. Scott feels that we are compelled 

to admire the force of his talents, even when he is 

employed in exposing the worst part of our nature. 

Gulliver’s Travels, despite common impressions 

to the contrary, presents in every voyage a balanced 

picture of human nature and the presence of goodness 

and good sense, as well as folly and vice in each 

country visited. What happens to Gulliver is a 

warning and a psychological preparation for the 

readers. Swift holds up before us a glass in an 

eighteenth century frame; but if we will we can see 

in it our twentieth century faces too. 

Gulliver’s Travels is the most mature, the most 

238


pondered of all Swift’s works, and the most complex, 

though it has in many ways a deceptive air 

of 

simplicity. Complex as the book is stuffed with 

personal, political and philosophic criticism and 

dicta, crammed with personal and literary allusions, 

the story is unified, as it is made vital by the 

tremendous urgency of the desire to humble human 

pride. 

Gulliver’s Travels is not a reviling of man’s 

indignity, but a passionate plea for the dignity of 

man, in spite of his loathsome body, his absurd mind, 

his ridiculous political pretensions, and his 

arrogant ignorance. The only hope for salvation, 

Swift tells us, is to rid ourselves of our cruel 

illusions, to be aware of and to accept the hells 

beneath, so that we may not subside into them. 

9.9 Style and Technique of Gulliver’s Travels 

Swift's use of humour and irony are sometimes as bitter as 

gall. His works are challenge to an easy, complacent optimism, and as 

an ironist, he is superior to any other writer of the age except 

Fielding. His irony, savage and bitter, glows with consuming 

intensity of feeling. His gravest dialect is enlivened by apt 

similes and strong metaphors; 1 but he is often outrageously 

coarse, and in the ludicrous degradation of his victims he makes 

on affection of kindliness. 

Often the satire is violent and sometimes it is coarse and 

repulsive perhaps the result of his own physical disabilities and his 

keen disappointment at his failure to gain the preferment which he 

left himself to have merited. The pettiness, the stupidity, and the 

injustice, which he saw so cleverly, roused his satirical humour and 

his venom. 

239


In all the four books of Gulliver's Travels, the vigorous 

spirit of satire is seen. 

In the first book dealing with the Lilliputians, the satire 

obviously consists in showing human motives at work on a 'small 

scale, and in suggesting, by the likeness of the Lilliputians to 

ourselves, the littleness of human affairs, and the pettiness of 

political intrigues. The dispute over the question at which end an 

egg should properly be broken, which plunged Lilliput into the civil 

war is a comment on the seriousness of party divisions in the greater 

world. 

Gulliver's next voyage to Brobdinginag brings him to a people 

as large in comparison with man as the Lilliputians are small. Here 

man is magnified into a giant, though in the earlier work he is 

reduced to a manikin. The third voyage to Laputa and other curious 

places embodies Swift's contempt for pedantry and for useless 

'scientific' experiment. And, lastly in the fourth voyage there is an 

indictment of man's tortuous and sly reasoning as compared to the 

noble inhabitants of Houyhnhnmland, who within the shapes of horses 

embody 'perfection of Nature.' 

The beastly Yahoos represent Swift's conception of man living 

in a degenerate state of nature. The evil instincts of 'civilized' 

man are here again bitterly portrayed. In short, the voyage of 

Lilliput and Brobding satirised the politics and manner of England 

and Europe; that to Laputa mocked the philosophers; and the last, to 

the country of the Houyhn-hnras, lacerated and defiled the whole body 

of humanity. Swift's pessimism that had been gnawing at his own heart 

finds its expression in this terrible attack on his fellow men. The 

entire work is an elaboration of the attitude expressed by him to 

Pope, "I heartily hate and detest that animal called man." 

Swift's method in all these works is to strike boldly with 

sarcasm and irony. He hates wrangling and argument, and seldom 

bothers to use the weapons of logical controversy. He attempts, with 

his almost unparalleled fund of ingenuity and caustic wit, to laugh 

his opponents off the stage. In his writings there is a disconcerting 

intermingling of earnestness and play. His unique position, his 

singularity and peculiar impressivenes among English writers is due 

to his thorough pessimism and the contribution he made to the deve- 

lopment of English prose style as a writer of English prose his 

importance is historical. 

240


Swift's style is marked for its clarity, precision and 

conciseas Herbert remarks, "However widely his vision might extend, 

however deep his insight, his mode of expression remained simple 

dignity and clearly comprehensible. Directness and simplicity, 

economy of words, his ironic ingenuity and practical downright ness 

are the virtues by which he writes. He is concerned with the full and 

effective expression of his deep, passionate convictions in all their 

sincerity in a language simple, unvarnished, precise and transparent 

which at once reveals the meaning below its surface. 

Clarity he valued most." In the words of Compton-Rickett, 

"Like other great stylists of the time, Pope and Addison, he achieves 

a triumphant clarity ; but unlike Pope he is never epigrammatic ; 

unlike Addison he had little plasticity of form He is plainly and 

forcefully clear with a greater strength than theirs ; all the more 

striking and urgent for his lack of ornament and concentrated 

passion." He never used redundant words. 

Swift employed figures of speech and epigrammatic expressions 

very rarely indeed. Dr. Johnson said, "The rogue never hazards a 

metaphor. His delight was in simplicity." That he has in his works no 

metaphor, as has been said, is not true, but his few metaphors, seem 

to be conceived rather by necessity than by choice. He tried to avoid 

the figurative language and most of the rhetoric devices such as 

balance, rhythm and antithesis. In fact, Swift's style is of one who 

followed 'the plain path of Nature and Reason'. He is an inimitable 

master of forceful narrative prose. 

Swift made no use of Latin wordsy He strongly advised his 

clergymen against the use of words like ubiquety, omniscience and 

idiosyncrasy. These latin words create obscurity and Swift he is 

dead set against obscurity in style. Likewise he was strongly opposed 

to the stylistic device of contracting or abbreviating, words like 

incog. fpj incognists, phizz. for physiognamy, pozz. for positive. 

As the most original writer of his time, Swift proves to be 

one of the greatest masters of English prose. Directness, vigour, and 

simplicity mark his every page. Among writers of his age he stands 

almost alone in his domain of literary effects. Keeping his object 

steadily before him he drives straight to the end, with a convincing 

power that has new surpassed in English language. Herbert rightly 

remarks, “The prose style of Swift is unique. It is an instrument of 

clear, animated, animating and effective thought. English prose has 

241


perhaps attained here and there a noble profundity, and here and 

there a subtler complexity ; but never has maintained such a 

constant level of inspired expression." 

The prose style of Swift has been admired by many a critics 

Albert says that in Gulliver's Travels the style of Swift it is 

clean, powerful and as clear as summer noon day. Moddy and Lovett 

are of the view that directness and simplicity are the hall marks of 

his writing. Absolute, unmitigated prose he wrote, the quintessence 

of prose. In the words of John Dennis “If we regard the writer's 

end, it must be admitted that his language is admirably fitted for 

that end. Swift's style wants the 'sweetness and lacks also the 

elevation which inspires, and the persuasiveness that convinces 

while it claims. No style, perhaps, is better fitted to exhibit scorn 

and contempt; It is a radically a low and homely style, without 

grace and without affection, and chiefly remarkable for a great 

choice and profusion of common words and expressions”. 

242



Gulliver's Travels "is one of the supreme comic masterpieces of the 

world, As a comedy it is not only Swift's masterpiece but one of the 

masterpieces of all time. The unit of the book lies in its satirical 

tone. 


1. Consider Gulliver’s Travels as a Satire on 

Humanity 

2. Write an Essay on the element of satire in 

Gulliver’s Travels 

3. Comment on the style and technique of Gulliver’s 

Travels 


Swift, Jonathan, Gulliver’s Travels. London & New York 

: J.M.Bent & Sons, Ltd & E.P.Dutten & Co., Inc, 

1906, rpt., 1977. 

Swift, Jonathan, Satires and Personal Writings. ed., 

Willian Affred Eddy. London : Oxford University. 

Baugh, Albert, C.Literary History of England. London : 

Rouledge & Kegan Ltd., 1967. 

Bridgewater, William and Kurtz, Seymour. The Columbia 

Encyclopaedia. New York and London : Columbia 


Dobree, Bonamy, English Literature in the Early 

Eighteenth Century. London : Oxford University 

Press, 1959. 

Daiches, David, A Critical History of English 

Literature V.3. England: Martin Secker & Warburg 

Ltd., 1960 

Davis, Herbert, Jonathan Swift : Essays on his satire 

and other studies : The Satire of Jonathan Swift. 

New York : Oxford University Press, 1964. 

Dyson, A.E. The Crazy Fabric : Essays in Irony. London 

243


Macmillan and co., Ltd., 1965. 

Ehrenpreis, Irvin. Swift the man, his works and the 

age Vol I & II. Great Britain : The Broad water 

Press Ltd., 1967. 

Ford, Boris. A guide to English Literature. Vol IV. 

Great Britain : penguin Books Ltd., 1957 rpt., 

1965. 

Jeffares, A. Norman. Swift : Modern Judgements. Great 

Britain : Western Printing Services Ltd., Bristol, 

1968. 

Mathur. S.S.Swift : Gulliver’s Travels. Agra : The 

Premier Press, Lakshmi Narain Agarwal, 1980. 

Rosenheim, Edward. W.Swift and the satirist’s art. 

Chigaco : The University of Chicago Press, 1963, 

rpt., 1967. 

Ross, Angus. Swift : Gulliver’s Travels. London : 

Edward Arnold, 1968. 

Speck. W.A. Literature in perspective : Swift : 

Gulliver’s Travels. Montague House, Russel Square, 

London, W.C.I. Evans Brothers Ltd., 1969. 

Tuveson, Ernest. Twentieth century views on Swift : 

United States of America : Prentice – Hall Inc., 1964. 

Williams, Kathleen. Profites in Literature : Jonathan 

Swift. Great Britain : Northumberland Press Ltd., 

1968. 

Williams, Kathleen. Swift : the critical Heritage. 

London : Rouledge and kegan Paul Ltd., 1970. 

244


Contents 



Unit – V 


PHILIP SIDNEY 

APOLOGY FOR POETRY 

10.2 An Outline of Sidney’s Apologie for poetry 

10.3 Introduction to Apology 

10.4 Sidney’s reply to the charges against Poetry 

10.5 The Nature and Function of poetry: 





This lesson is devoted for making you understand 

the works of Philip Sidney and how he expressed his 

own intelligence, and intellectual milieu. 


The Apology is not epoch-making, but it is 

epoch – marking. Of course Sidney was unaware of 

what vernacular English Poets were to achieve within 

245


the next generation or so, and yet what he intends is 

triumphantly authenticated by their achievement. 

10.2 An Outline of Sidney’s Apologie for poetry 

EXORDIUM 

Employs a recognised method of indirect approach to the 

case and seeks to capture the goodwill of the audience by 

humorous anecdote, mock expostulation, and modesty 

formulas. The anecdote adumbrates the concern of the 

Apology with the relation between the theory and practice 

of an art. 

NARRATION 

Relates the facts which give dignity to poetry.Brief 

transitional argument to lower the personal creditof the 

opponents of poetry Facts indicating worth of poetry(a) 

bits superior antiquity the universality of poetry 

its names and etymology title of vates title of ' 

maker. 

III PROPOSITION 

That poetry is to be commended and approved for what it 

essentially is — Imitation.This is the central issue of 

the controversy and sums up what is about to be discussed 

step by step. 

IV DIVISION 

Shows the way in which the facts averred in the NARRATION are 

going to be systematically interpreted to prove the 

PROPOSITION. 

Poetry classified according to 

(a) its subject matter or fable (i) religious themes 

(ii) philosophical themes (iii) strictly imitative 

themes its form DIVISION ends with ENUMERATION. 

246


CONFIRMATION 

V CONFIRMATION or PROOF 

by examining the ' works '—the nature and effects of 

poetic imitation 

(i) the essential function of human arts 

(ii) claims of philosophy to be the supreme discipline 

(iii) claims of history 

(iv) Comparison of poetry with other disciplines 

(v) examples showing value of poetic imitation 

(vi) conclusion 

by examining the ' parts ' - character and effects of the 

different kinds of poetry 

SUMMARY of the whole argument up to this point leading to 

the conclusion that poetry is the worthiest of all 

disciplines. 

VI REFUTATION 

Deals with the specific charges against poetry which 

the prosecution is assumed to have made. 

(a) personally discrediting attack on those who defame 

poetry 

(b) objections against poetic form answered 

(c) objections against poetic material listed 

(i) fallacy of argument that poetry is unprofitable 

exposed 

(ii) assertion that the poet is a liar rebutted 

(iii) assertion that poetry is the nurse of abuse re- 

butted 

(iv) Plato's condemnation of poets answered 

SUMMARY of favourable points from REFUTATION which by leading to 

the conclusion that poetry should be the more honoured turns 

the REFUTATION into a corroboration of the PROOF. 

247


Digression 

Indicates the ways in which contemporary English writers 

disgrace the ideal of poetry set out in the rest of the 

Apology, and how they should amend. The DIGRESSION has the 

structure of an independent oration. 

NARRATION giving an account of situation 

(i) great men in the past honoured poetry 

(ii) even in England poetry was once honoured 

(iii) poetry now despised and produced by base writers 

ii PROPOSITION that poets must seek to know what to do and 

how to do it, if poetry is to be esteemed properly 

in DIVISION indicating the need for art, imitation, and 

exercise, followed by ENUMERATION of matters to be 

discussed 

iv CONFIRMATION by consideration of 

(a) subject-matter or fable 

(b) (i) deficiencies in past practice 

(ii) defects in drama 

in disregard of unities lapses in decorum 

(iii) defects in the other kinds (6) words or expression 

(i) verbal affectations 

(ii) dangers of exaggerated Ciceronianism 

(iii) vice of Euphuism (iv) general failure to make 

proper use of language of 

art (c) Conclusion to treatment of defects 

(d) Commendation of the English language 

for its expressiveness for its metrical possibilities 

v CONCLUSION of DIGRESSION leading into 

VII PERORATION of the whole 

10.3 Introduction to Apology 

248


Sidney opens his defense of poetry by referring 

to John Pietro Pugliano who as horseman praised the 

horse and horsemanship so profusely that a hearer 

would wish to become a horse or a horseman. When 

Stephen Gosson dedicated his puritanic attack on 

poetry to Sidney, and hence Sidney had to make his 

reply. 

Philip Sidney wrote his Apology for Poetry in 

reply to Stephen Gosson’s School of Abuse. Stephen 

Gosson denounced the art of poetry and condemned 

poets as the ‘Caterpillars of the Commonwelth”. The 

earliest works of Greece, Rome, Italy, England and 

other countries of the world prove the antiquity and 

universality of poetry. The earliest works, even, 

philosophical works of various nations, have been 

written either in verse or in a poetical style. 

Even the historians used the poetical art in 

designing their historical writings. 

Poetry has the power to popularize the abstract 

principles and thorny arguments of philosophy as well 

as the imperfect and unethical matters of history. 

The Roman word ‘Vates’ means a prophet and it 

is used to denote a poet endowed with prophetic 

power. The oracles of Delphos and Sibylla’s 

Prophecies were delivered in verse. 

The association of poetry with the divine power 

clearly reveals its highest value. David’s Psalms are 

written in verse. Poetry is closely connected with 

the Church and God, its source of inspiration and 

249


enlightenment. The meaning of the Greek word potein 

is ‘to make’; it denotes the creative power of the 

poet in building up an ideal world by making virtue 

triumphant and vice powerless. All arts and sciences 

imitate the imperfect visible nature without any 

modification. But Poetry differs from them in its 

treatment of nature. 

The Poet has unlimited freedom to imitate 

nature as well as penetrate behind appearance and 

discern the hidden ultimate reality. He presents 

heroes as demigods, Cyclops, chimeras and funnies in 

his works. He transforms the brazen world of Nature 

in to a golden world of poetic reality. 

When the real world of God is made imperfect by 

man’s abuse of his free will, the poet perfects it by 

introducing ideal heroes as well as imperfect 

villains and by making virtue triumph over vice in 

all his works. Sidney sets forth the nature of poetry 

by means of his references to classical times. 

Sidney cities Aristotle’s definitions of poetry 

to bring out the dignity and utility of poetry. 

Poetry represents the real world in all respects and 

offers delightful instruction to its readers. There 

are three kinds of poetry described which are 

religious poetry, philosophical poetry and tree- 

poetry. The first kind, that of religious poetry is 

illustrated by David’s Psalms, Solomon’s Song of 

songs the Hymns of Moses and Deborah. 

Philosophical poetry, is found in the moral 

works of Tyrtaeus, and Cato. ‘True’ poetry differs 

250


very much from the art of painting and deals with 

nature in such a way that it is able both to delight 

and teach by its subject and mode of treatment. 

True poetry is further subdivided into several 

kinds such as heroic. Iyric, tragic, comic, satiric, 

elegiac and pastoral. It is possible to write poetry 

without verses. i.e. the emotional and imaginative 

treatment of any subject. It is also possible to 

compose verse without poetry by consciously employing 

rhymes and rhythms without any inspiration, emotion 

and imagination. Poetry alone imparts the knowledge 

of righteous life and directs people towards virtuous 

action When all arts and sciences fail to lead men to 

virtuous action. Moral philosophers fail to attract 

the public on account of their gravity and subtlety 

of division and definition. But historians attract 

the public by their concrete examples and prove 

superior to philosophers. 

Poetry makes men good by pointing out the ills 

of the human world, and the punishment meted out to 

evil doers. So poetry is superior to philosophy, 

history and law by virtue of its moral function. The 

Limitations of philosophy and history are easily 

pointed out. Philosophy presents thorny arguments and 

misty conceptions in dry language. History shows the 

triumph of vice over virtue in the real world. So 

history is defective from the view of morality and 

divinity. Poetry combines the precepts of philosophy 

and the example of history and it delights readers by 

its emotional and imaginative treatment of all 

subjects. But philosophy fails to do imaginative 

251


treatment of dry and abstract moral principles. 

All the abstract virtues are delightfully and 

effectively portrayed by the poets through their 

characters wisdom and temperance in Ulysses and 

Diomedes, Valour in Achillers, friendship in Nisus 

and Euryalus. All the abstract vices are also 

powerfully presented by the classical poets- anger in 

Ajax, the remorse of conscience in Oedipus, the soon 

repenting pride of Agamemnon, the violence of 

ambition in the two Theban brothers, the sour 

sweetness of revenge in Medea and so on. 

The poet is superior to the philosopher in his 

way of teaching the value of virtuous action 

effectively and delightfully as has been done by 

Virgil, Xenophon, and Thomas More. 

The parables of Jesus Christ in the Bible are 

essentially poetical and not at all philosophical or 

historical. He presents uncharitableness and humility 

in the further of the prodigal son his father. 

Aesop’s Fables is more effective than a book of moral 

philosophy in teaching the value of virtuous life. 

According to Aristotle poetry is more philosophical 

than philosophy and more serious than history. Poetry 

presents the eternal truths of virtue and vice 

through imaginary stories about imaginary characters. 

So poetry is better than history in its delightful 

teaching of moral truths. 

Poetry conceals all the natural ugliness of the 

real world and presents the pleasing picture of 

everything to delight and teach the readers. The 

252


feigned Cyrus of Xenophon is much better than the 

true Cyrus in Justain. Similarly the feigned Aeneas 

in Virgil is more attractive than in true Aeneas in 

Darius Phrygius. It is impossible for the historian 

to present ideal characters of virtue because he is 

bound to present the actual details of historical 

characters combining their good and bad qualities. 

Poetry alones can give a perfect pattern of good and 

evil without any confusion. 

The art of feigning has to be practised at 

times when direct truth fails to impress itself upon 

people. The story of Zopyrus cutting his own nose 

and ears and going to the Bobylonians in order to 

make them change their attitude to his master, King 

Darius, cannot be forgotten for its success and ideal 

loyalty. The poet has unlimited freedom unlike the 

historian. So the poet employs his imagination to 

create Hell or Heaven but the historian has to 

present the mixed world of good and evil on the 

earth. 

The historical accounts of tyrants flourishing 

and the virtuous people suffering in this imperfect 

real speaks only in favour of vice and not of virtue. 

Poetry not only imparts the knowledge of good 

and evil but it also moves the readers towards 

virtuous action. But philosophy fails to do so at 

those two levels. The study of poetry is a journey 

through a vineyard with the tasting of grapes and 

seeing the beautiful scenes of nature. Hearing the 

tales of Hercules, Achilles, Cyrus and Aeneas is more 

253


pleasing and enchanting than following the dry 

definitions and thorny explanations of philosophy. 

Even the hard-hearted men who refuse to touch the 

books of moral philosophy are tempted to read 

delightful poems and drawn unconsciously towards the 

ideal of goodness. That is the reason why Plato and 

Boethius borrowed the garment of poetry to clothe the 

mistress of philosophy. Poetry is a medicine like 

cherries. 

At the time of a crisis Agryppa used his 

poetical faculty to draw the attention of all his 

angry senators by narrating the story of the 

different parts of the body turning against the belly 

and accusing it of consuming all the food. But when 

the belly was starved the parts of the body also 

suffered. Thus Agrippa won the hearts of the senators 

once again. 

God’s men who commit any evil deed God sends 

some of his prophets or angels to warn. It so 

happened in the life of David. Nathan, the prophet 

appealed to David’s good sense by the art of 

feigning. The poet vindicates the value of virtue and 

directs all readers to follow the goal of virtuous 

action by means of his imaginary stories and 

characters. The creator of such poetic art has to be 

highly respected and honored, Since the end and aim 

of poetry is to move its readers to virtuous action. 

Some poems combine various elements of tragedy and 

comedy. But all the poems prove to be useful to 

mankind because they teach the value of order and 

peace, virtue and discipline in directly and 

254


delightfully. 

A passage is produced from Virgil’s First 

Eclogue to illustrate the effect of pastoral poetry 

on the readers. By the description of beautiful 

natural landscape and the narration of the tales of 

wolves and sheep the pastoral poet moves the readers 

to virtuous action. 

By means of elegiac poetry the poet shows the 

weakness of mankind and the wretchedness of the 

world. The iambic poetry puts villainy to shame. In 

the illustrative lines of Horace the aim of satiric 

poetry is well explained. Satiric poetry attacks the 

follies of people and makes the readers laugh at 

them, aiming at reform. Comedy is an imitation of 

life, Remarked Aristotle the comic writer exposes 

the common errors of life in the most ridiculous and 

scornful way and aims at reformation of mankind. 

Just like geometry and arithmetic that deal with 

opposites, comic poetry shows both the filthiness of 

evil and the beauty of virtue. 

The characters of Terence’s comedies illustrate 

all kinds of human qualities – niggardly Demea, 

crafty Davus, flattering Gnatho and bragging Thraso. 

On seeing the evil qualities portrayed ridiculously 

and evil doers undergoing punishment the readers as 

well as the audience of the comedies think about them 

and decide not to follow them. 

Seneca’s Oedipus by showing all the tyrannical 

measures of the tyrants as tragic poetry produces the 

effects of admiration and commiseration on the 

255


readers. Plutarch presented an abominable tyrant, 

Alexander Phereus as a subject of tragedy. The 

choice of a tyrant as a subject to tragedy is always 

harmful and so only excellent qualities of life 

should be treated in the art of poetry. 

Lyrical poetry exalts virtuous actions and 

sings the glory of God. Sidney was very much moved 

by the ballad of Chevy Chase : if small things were 

highly praised by Pindar and other Greek poets it was 

due to the attitude of the Greeks. Therefore the 

poets should not be blamed for praising trivial 

things : the people were responsible for such things. 

The heroic poetry of classical poets focuses on 

heroes like Achilles, Cyrus, Aeneas, Turnus, Tydeus 

and Rinaldo. The heroes exhibit their heroic 

qualities on different occasions and conduct 

themselves heroically so that the readers are 

inspired to emulate them in life. By watching the 

heroism of many heroes in heroic poetry the readers 

are induced to follow their way of life. Those who 

condemn poetry are to be dispraised. They neglect a 

means for moving men and women to virtuous action. 

Sidney sums up all the vital ideas connected 

with the value of poetry to humanity. He stresses the 

antiquity, universality, morality and dignity of 

poetry. 

10.4 Sidney’s reply to the charges against Poetry 

Sidney faces the charges of puritan critics 

like Stephen Grosson against poetry. Those who 

256


without understanding poetry, praise other subjects 

and arts are really foolish and try to worship their 

folly. Erasums and Agrippa did not realize the 

superiority of poetry. Puritan critics attacked 

poetry, but the poets also not attack anybody. 

It is possible to write poetry without rhyming 

or following any verse pattern. Similarly it is 

possible to write verses without any poetry in them. 

In some cases both poetry and verse go together and 

such poetical works cannot be blamed by anybody. 

Rhyming and other devices of verse are meant to 

fix the words and phrases, ideas and thoughts in the 

memory of the readers. So the readers of Virgil, 

Horace, and Cato remember some of their lines even 

after many years by recalling the music of the verse 

patterns. 

The first charge is that a man could spend his 

time in pursuing many fruitful arts if he ignores 

that art of poetry. In other words the study of 

poetry is a waste of time. 

Secondly, poetry is the mother of lies. Thirdly 

it is the nurse of abuse. Chaucer himself has said 

that poetry softened the marital velour of the 

soldiers and made them sleep in idleness. So the 

puritan critics pointed out that the study of poetry 

demoralized and debilitated strong people. 

No learning in the world is so powerful as 

poetry in its power of moving men to virtuous action. 

According to Sidney, the study of poetry moralizes 

257


and refines the animal and devilish nature of the 

people. The poets deal with universal and eternal 

truths not affirmatively but allegorically in order 

to perfect the imperfect world. They give imaginary 

names and details and make men better. They do not 

lie like astronomers, historians lawyers and so on. 

They are not concerned with the material facts and 

figures of this world. Their aim is to present the 

eternal world and perfect the perfectible human 

beings of the imperfect real world. Therefore they 

are not liars. 

If the divine art of poetry is abused by the 

devilish with of some poets. Poetry is not 

responsible for it and is not to be blamed. It is 

only the poet who abuses the divine art of poetry 

that deserves censure. Sidney explains this fact by 

the illustration of a sword being used for the wrong 

purpose. If a sword is used to kill a father, the 

sword should not be blamed for the unfilial act. 

It is the misuse of the sword that is to be 

blamed. Similarly there is a natural tendency with 

some witty men to abuse even the holy name of God and 

write hereby about Him. Therefore only the poets who 

abuse their wits by treating of lust, vanity and 

scurrility are to be blamed and not the divine art of 

poetry. 

The great warriors and soldiers used to carry 

volumes of poetry inspire them with the ideals of 

courage, truth and strength. So poetry did not 

debilitate the soldiers. In fact Alexander the Great 

258


preferred the dead poet Homer to the living 

philosopher, Aristotle because the portrait of 

Achilles in Homer’s llaid was more inspiring and real 

than Aristotle’s definition of fortitude. The art of 

poetry gives many other examples of the courageous 

and mighty heroes. 

Sidney could not understand the reason for 

Plato’s banishment of poetry from his ideal 

commonwealth because Plato’s works are essentially 

poetical. Examples of poets who succeeded even in 

reforming some tyrant kings. He also points out that 

many philosophers were banished from their countries. 

The Athenians, who disliked philosophers saved their 

own lives by quoting a few lines of Euripides before 

the Syracusans. The poets, Simonomides and Pindar, 

succeeded in changing Hiero, the worst tyrant in to a 

just king. According to a common story, even Plato 

was sold as a slave by Dionysius the tyrant. So 

Sidney makes it clear that philosophy had drawn its 

mysterious riddles from the world of poetry but it 

failed to grateful to be poetry. On the whole, 

philosophy and philosophers cannot excel poetry and 

poets. 

According to Sidney’s argument, Plato allowed 

emotional beings, namely women, into his ideal 

commonwealth and so he should not condemn the 

emotions of poetry. Regarding the treatment of many 

baser gods in some poetry, Sidney answers that the 

theology of that time had been responsible for it. 

But when compared with the atheism resulting from 

philosophical argument, the superstition of poetry is 

259


nothing. 

Plato only banished the poets who abused their 

wits and dealt with lust, vanity and scurrility. But 

he did not banish poetry. In fact Plato was a patron 

of right poetry and so he condemned the wrong poetry 

of the poets who abused their wits. 

Laelius, the Roman Socrates, was a poet. 

Alexander, Caesar and Scipio were admirers of poetry. 

Therefore it was improper to banish poetry from his 

ideal Republic. In fact poetry contributes much to 

the ideal Republic of Plato. Thus the attack on 

poetry when carefully analyzed turns out to be an 

appeal for its admiration. 

Sidney makes it clear that poetry is an art, 

not of lies but of true doctrine, not of 

effeminateness but of a notable stirring of courage, 

not of arousing man’s wit but of strengthening it; In 

fact poetry is not banished but honored by Plato. 

Sidney does not understand the indifference of 

England towards poetry because poetry has contributed 

substantially to the training as English minds and 

the making of many other branches of knowledge. 

The art of poetry has been admired by many 

kings, captains and generals from the earliest times 

in several countries. But puritan critics like 

Stephen Gosson attacked poetry which prospered more 

in wartime than in the peaceful days of Elizabethan 

England. 

Sidney dislikes the idea of mixing hornpipes 

260


and funerals in the tragic-comedy of contemporary 

times. He denounces tragic-comedy as a mongrel. He 

explains the difference between delight and laughter 

with a number of examples. A fair woman delights a 

man but people laugh at mad clowns. In short people 

delight in good chances but laugh at mischance. 

Delight is the result of seeing pleasant scenes and 

situations. But laughter is born of deformities and 

abnormalities. 

It is improper to laugh at a beggar and a 

stranger, Sidney condemns the meaningless and 

scornful laughter of farcical comedy but encourages 

the delightful the teaching of a comedy without any 

scorn. The English Comedy of Sidney’s days was based 

on the false hypothesis of making people laugh at 

everything and offending everybody. Lyrical poetry is 

a blessing of God. It is also devoted to the praise 

of immortal beauty and goodness of God. Love is 

treated as a subject of poetry. It is elevated to the 

noble height of sacrifice or degraded as the baser 

passion of lust. 

Sometimes the words used in poetry are richly 

appareled. But at time the words are less colorful 

and suggestive as in some verses of conscious 

composition. 

Some writers use words profusely to produce a 

rhetorical effect. A mere string of words and phrases 

cannot make good poetry. In fact true poetry lies in 

sincerity of expression rather than in words and 

phrases, rhymes and rhymes and rhythms. Sidney 

261


inquires into the nature of diction in poetry. One of 

the essential elements of poetry is effective 

diction. The similes drawn from diverse sources are 

intended more to explain the meaning of the subject 

than to distract the readers. 

Men of little learning impress the audience by 

their eloquence but professors of wide learning fail 

to do so. Similarly minor poets abuse their wit to 

please the large public but great poets maintain 

their dignity and preserve the purity of poetic art. 

Sidney expects words and idea to be properly used 

without any abuse as in oratory and baser poetry. 

Good poets know how to choose noble subjects and 

better expressions in order to make their poetry 

eternal. The poets have to chose the best words from 

the vernacular language, apply the grammatical 

principles and put them in the best order. English is 

the best suited for the art of poetry among the 

European languages. 

Sidney refers to two kinds of versification 

ancient and modern. The ancients marked the quantity 

of each syllable but the moderns considered the 

accent. The language of the English, compared and 

contrasted with other European languages, has certain 

advantages in making rhymes and none of the defects 

of other languages. Sidney praises the unique of the 

English language allowing all kind of rhyme the male, 

the female and the sorucciola. He also points out the 

limitation of Latin, French and Italian. 

Sidney sums up, at the end, all the merits of 

262


poetry, its freedom from defects and its sway over 

all people,art and sciences. Since poetry imparts 

virtuous knowledge and moves man and women to 

virtuous action it is more useful and valuable than 

other arts and sciences to mankind. Those who love 

poetry, honor poets and serve poetry are, also to be 

honored. They grow rich, fair and wise. They are to 

be ranked with the souls of Dante’s Beatrice and 

Virgil’s Anchises. 

If any one has no power to admire the vault of 

poetry, he cannot hear its celestial music and 

understand its divine message. If any one 

underestimates poetry, he becomes as foolish as King 

Midas. On the whole, poetry has the power to teach 

the valuable principles of life delightfully. 

10.5 The Nature and Function of poetry: 

Sidney defends the art of poetry by emphasizing 

the antiquity, universality, dignity and utility of 

poetry. He refers to the definitions of poetry by 

classical writers of the past and establishes the 

superiority of poetry over philosophy, History and 

the other arts and the sciences. He states that 

poetry teaches by giving pleasant and unpleasant 

pictures of virtue or vice, and making its readers 

move towards virtuous action. 

Sidney illustrated the poetry by referring to 

the earliest writings in many languages and noting 

the fact that earliest of philosophers and historians 

wrote their works either in verse or in a poetical 

manner. he explains the universality of poetry by 

263


saying that almost in all the countries of the world 

the earliest writers have been poets. After proving 

the antiquity and universality of Poetry, Sidney draw 

on the classical writings to explain the nature and 

function of Poetry. 

The Roman word ‘vates’ suggest the prophetic 

nature of Poetry. The Greek word ‘Poiein’ denotes the 

creative power of the poet. The Delphic Oracles and 

Sibylla’s prophecies were delivered in verses. The 

pets have the power to penetrate the hidden reality 

and discern the future of the world. Similarly the 

poets perfect the imperfect real world by means of 

the imagination and intuition displayed in their 

poetical works. Both the prophetic nature and the 

creative power of the poets definitely differentiate 

them from other artists and associate them with God 

and the Church. 

Sidney uses Plato’s poetic theory of 

inspiration and Aristotle’s poetic theory of 

imitation to explain the nature and Function of 

Poetry. According to Plato the poets are inspired by 

their vision of god and the ideal world of heaven. 

Hence they build up the ideal world in their works. 

On the other hand, Aristotle defines Poetry as an art 

of imitation. He explains how the poets imitate the 

actual life by giving vivid accounts of the real 

world with a view to delight and teach the readers. 

Horace also defines the art of Poetry and admires it 

for its speaking pictures and delightful teaching. 

After explaining the meaning and nature of 

264


Poetry in the light of classical achievements, Sidney 

describes three kinds of Poetry as religious poetry 

illustrated by David’s psalms, Solomon’s Song of 

songs and the Hymns of Moses and Deborah, 

philosophical poetry as illustrated by the moral 

works of Tyrtaeus, Phocylides and Cato, and true 

poetry, further subdivided in to several kinds such 

as heroic, lyric, tragic, comic, satiric, iambic, 

elegiac pastoral. 


The main ideas in the Apology for poetry are 

not peculiar to Sidney though the arrangement of the 

argument is his own. It is a product of his own 

intelligence, his own intellectual milieu and its 

critical inheritance. 

265



1. How does Sidney reply Gosson’s charges against 

poetry? 

2. What is Sidney’s estimate of contemporary 

English poetry and drama? 

3. What according to Sidney is the nature and 

function of poetry? 


Shepherd, Geoffrey An Apology for Poetry, London, 

Thomas Nelson and Sons Ltd., 1964. 

Shuck Burgh, Evlyn S. An Apology for Poetry. 

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

266

LESSON 1

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?