The Works of John Dryden | Page 4

Lord Shaftesbury from the court
party, and the passing of the test act, Lord Clifford resigned his office,
retired to the country, and died in September 1673, shortly after
receiving this dedication.
2. In this case, Dryden's praise, which did not always occur, survived
the temporary occasion. Even in a little satirical effusion, he tells us,
Clifford was fierce and brave.
Clifford had been comptroller and treasurer of the household, and one
of the commissioners of the treasury; he had served in the Dutch wars.
3. Alluding to Lord Clifford's resignation of an office he could not
hold without a change of religion.

PROLOGUE.
_This poem was written as far back as 1662, and was then termed a
Satire against the Dutch._
As needy gallants in the scriveners' hands,
Court the rich knave that
gripes their mortgaged lands,
The first fat buck of all the season's sent,

And keeper takes no fee in compliment:
The dotage of some
Englishmen is such
To fawn on those who ruin them--the Dutch.

They shall have all, rather than make a war
With those who of the
same religion are.
The Straits, the Guinea trade, the herrings too,

Nay, to keep friendship, they shall pickle you.
Some are resolved not
to find out the cheat,
But, cuckold like, love him who does the feat:

What injuries soe'er upon us fall,
Yet, still, The same religion,
answers all:
Religion wheedled you to civil war,
Drew English
blood, and Dutchmen's now would spare:
Be gulled no longer, for
you'll find it true,
They have no more religion, faith--than you;

Interest's the god they worship in their state;
And you, I take it, have
not much of that.
Well, monarchies may own religion's name,
But
states are atheists in their very frame.
They share a sin, and such
proportions fall,
That, like a stink, 'tis nothing to them all.
How they
love England, you shall see this day;
No map shews Holland truer
than our play:
Their pictures and inscriptions well we know[1];
We
may be bold one medal sure to show.
View then their falsehoods,
rapine, cruelty;
And think what once they were, they still would be:

But hope not either language, plot, or art;
'Twas writ in haste, but
with an English heart:
And least hope wit; in Dutchmen that would be

As much improper, as would honesty.
Footnote
1. Amongst the pretexts for making war on the states of
Holland were
alleged their striking certain satirical medals, and engraving prints in
ridicule of Charles II. See his proclamation of war in 1671-2.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Captain GABRIEL TOWERSON.
Mr BEAMONT, } English
Merchants, his Friends.
Mr COLLINS, }
Captain_ MIDDLETON,
_an English Sea Captain.
PEREZ, a Spanish Captain.
HARMAN
Senior, Governor of Amboyna.
The Fiscal.
HARMAN Junior, Son
to the Governor.
VAN HERRING, a Dutch Merchant.
ISABINDA, betrothed to_ TOWERSON, _an Indian Lady.
JULIA,
Wife to PEREZ.
An English Woman.
Page to TOWERSON.
A
Skipper.
Two Dutch Merchants.
SCENE--Amboyna.
AMBOYNA.
ACT I.
SCENE I.--A Castle on the Sea.
Enter_ HARMAN _Senior, the Governor, the Fiscal, and VAN
HERRING: Guards.
Fisc. A happy day to our noble governor.
Har. Morrow, Fiscal.
Van Her. Did the last ships, which came from Holland to these parts,
bring us no news of moment?
Fisc. Yes, the best that ever came into Amboyna, since we set footing
here; I mean as to our interest.
Har. I wonder much my letters then gave me so short accounts; they
only said the Orange party was grown strong again, since Barnevelt had
suffered.
Van Her. Mine inform me farther, the price of pepper, and of other

spices, was raised of late in Europe.
Har. I wish that news may hold; but much suspect it, while the English
maintain their factories among us in Amboyna, or in the neighbouring
plantations of Seran.
Fisc. Still I have news that tickles me within; ha, ha, ha! I'faith it does,
and will do you, and all our countrymen.
Har. Pr'ythee do not torture us, but tell it.
Van Her. Whence comes this news?
Fisc. From England.
Har. Is their East India fleet bound outward for these parts, or cast
away, or met at sea by pirates?
Fisc. Better, much better yet; ha, ha, ha!
Har. Now am I famished for my part of the laughter.
Fisc. Then, my brave governor, if you're a true Dutchman, I'll make
your fat sides heave with the conceit on't, 'till you're blown like a pair
of large smith's bellows; here, look upon this paper.
Har. [reading.] _You may remember we did endamage the English
East-India Company the value of five hundred thousand pounds, all in
one year; a treaty is now signed, in which the business is ta'en up for
fourscore thousand._--This is news indeed: would I were upon the
castle-wall, that I might throw my cap into the sea, and my gold chain
after it! this is golden news, boys.
Van Her. This is news would kindle a thousand bonfires, and make us
piss them out again in Rhenish wine.
Har. Send presently to all our factories, acquaint them with