The Works of John Dryden, Volume 4 | Page 5

the enemies of your royal family, even within their trenches; and the
more obstinate, or more guilty of them, were forced to be spies over
those whom they commanded, lest the name of York should disband
that army, in whose fate it was to defeat the Spaniards, and force

Dunkirk to surrender. Yet, those victorious forces of the rebels were not
able to sustain your arms. Where you charged in person you were a
conqueror. It is true, they afterwards recovered courage; and wrested
that victory from others which they had lost to you; and it was a greater
action for them to rally, than it was to overcome. Thus, by the presence
of your royal highness, the English on both sides remained victorious
and that army, which was broken by your valour, became a terror to
those for whom they conquered. Then it was, that at the cost of other
nations you informed and cultivated that valour, which was to defend
your native country, and to vindicate its honour from the insolence of
our encroaching neighbours. When the Hollanders, not contented to
withdraw themselves from the obedience which they owed their lawful
sovereign, affronted those by whose charity they were first protected;
and, being swelled up to a pre-eminence of trade, by a supine
negligence on our side, and a sordid parsimony on their own, dared to
dispute the sovereignty of the seas, the eyes of three nations were then
cast upon you; and by the joint suffrage of king and people, you were
chosen to revenge their common injuries; to which, though you had an
undoubted title by your birth, you had a greater by your courage.
Neither did the success deceive our hopes and expectations: The most
glorious victory which was gained by our navy in that war, was in the
first engagement; wherein, even by the confession of our enemies, who
ever palliate their own losses, and diminish our advantages, your
absolute triumph was acknowledged: You conquered at the Hague, as
entirely as at London; and the return of a shattered fleet, without an
admiral, left not the most impudent among them the least pretence for a
false bonfire, or a dissembled day of public thanksgiving. All our
achievements against them afterwards, though we sometimes
conquered, and were never overcome, were but a copy of that victory,
and they still fell short of their original: somewhat of fortune was ever
wanting, to fill up the title of so absolute a defeat; or perhaps the
guardian angel of our nation was not enough concerned when you were
absent, and would not employ his utmost vigour for a less important
stake, than the life and honour of a royal admiral.
And if, since that memorable day,[4] you have had leisure to enjoy in
peace the fruits of so glorious a reputation; it was occasion only has

been wanting to your courage, for that can never be wanting to
occasion. The same ardour still incites you to heroick actions, and the
same concernment for all the interests of your king and brother
continues to give you restless nights, and a generous emulation for your
own glory. You are still meditating on new labours for yourself, and
new triumphs for the nation; and when our former enemies again
provoke us, you will again solicit fate to provide you another navy to
overcome, and another admiral to be slain. You will then lead forth a
nation eager to revenge their past injuries; and, like the Romans,
inexorable to peace, till they have fully vanquished. Let our enemies
make their boast of a surprise,[5] as the Samnities did of a successful
stratagem; but the _Furcæ Caudinæ_ will never be forgiven till they are
revenged. I have always observed in your royal highness an extreme
concernment for the honour of your country; it is a passion common to
you with a brother, the most excellent of kings; and in your two persons
are eminent the characters which Homer has given us of heroick virtue;
the commanding part in Agamemnon, and the executive in Achilles.
And I doubt not from both your actions, but to have abundant matter to
fill the annals of a glorious reign, and to perform the part of a just
historian to my royal master, without intermixing with it any thing of
the poet.
In the mean time, while your royal highness is preparing fresh
employments for our pens, I have been examining my own forces, and
making trial of myself, how I shall be able to transmit you to posterity.
I have formed a hero, I confess, not absolutely perfect, but of an
excessive and over-boiling courage; but Homer and Tasso are my
precedents. Both the Greek and the Italian poet had well considered,
that a tame hero, who never transgresses