Nov 22, 2021
In this sixth season of The Well Read Poem, we will read a
number of examples of classic satire in verse. English poetry is
particularly rich in satire, and we will take a close look at some
of the best instances of literary mockery that the past several
centuries have bequeathed to us. Some of these are playfully
teasing, while others are deliberately savage. All of them taken
together, I trust, will provide a happy introduction to the fine
art of verbal annihilation. Today’s selection is from a longer
piece called Absalom and Achitophel, by John Dryden. This passage
titled Zimri is a satirical character sketch of the Duke of
Buckingham. Poem begins at timestamp 5:19.
"Zimri" from "Absalom and Achitophel"
by John Dryden
A
numerous host of dreaming saints succeed;
Of
the true old enthusiastic breed:
'Gainst
form and order they their pow'r employ;
Nothing
to build, and all things to destroy.
But
far more numerous was the herd of such,
Who
think too little, and who talk too much.
These,
out of mere instinct, they knew not why,
Ador'd
their father's God, and property:
And
by the same blind benefit of fate,
The
Devil and the Jebusite did hate:
Born
to be saved even in their own despite;
Because
they could not help believing right.
Such
were the tools; but a whole Hydra more
Remains,
of sprouting heads too long, to score.
Some
of their chiefs were princes of the land:
In
the first rank of these did Zimri stand:
A man
so various, that he seem'd to be
Not
one, but all Mankind's Epitome.
Stiff
in opinions, always in the wrong;
Was
everything by starts, and nothing long:
But
in the course of one revolving moon,
Was
chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon:
Then
all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking;
Besides
ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Blest
madman, who could every hour employ,
With
something new to wish, or to enjoy!
Railing
and praising were his usual themes;
And
both (to show his judgment) in extremes:
So
over violent, or over civil,
That
every man, with him, was god or devil.
In
squandering wealth was his peculiar art:
Nothing
went unrewarded, but desert.
Beggar'd
by fools, whom still he found too late:
He
had his jest, and they had his estate.
He
laugh'd himself from court; then sought relief
By
forming parties, but could ne'er be chief:
For,
spite of him, the weight of business fell
On
Absalom and wise Achitophel:
Thus,
wicked but in will, of means bereft,
He
left not faction, but of that was left.