Forbidden Fruit: Dryden's The State of Innocence And Fall of Man

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Electronic Theses and Dissertations Jack N. Averitt College of Graduate Studies

Spring 2006

Forbidden Fruit: Dryden's The State of Innocence And

Fall of Man, An Operatic Version of Paradise Lost

Devane King Middleton

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Man, An Operatic Version of Paradise Lost" (2006).

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT: DRYDEN’S THE STATE OF INNOCENCE AND FALL OF

MAN, AN OPERATIC VERSION OF PARADISE LOST

DEVANE KING MIDDLETON

(Under the Direction of Candy B. K. Schille)

ABSTRACT

Ever since Dryden published his opera The State of Innocence

, critics have

speculated about his reasons for making a stage adaptation of Milton’s Paradise Lost

. The

fact that Dryden worked for Milton in Cromwell’s government may have been a factor.

Dryden’s Puritan indoctrination during childhood, followed by influences from a royalist

schoolmaster in his teenage years, makes the answer to the question somewhat more

complex, as does the fact that the play, its source a Puritan epic adapted by an Anglican

royalist poet, is dedicated to the Catholic bride of James, Duke of York and brother to

Charles II. Throughout the two works, theological, sociological, and political differences

abound, but it is Dryden’s stage characters that are the primary vehicles through which he

portrays his divergence from Milton’s epic. Lucifer, the ultimate evil, is in rebellion

against Christ the King, and, while Adam ponders the dilemma of free will versus

preordination, the ever-narcissistic Eve traipses through the garden toward her meeting

with the serpent. This meeting, being both preordained and a result of Eve’s (and

Lucifer’s) free will, brings about the fall of Man. Thus, Dryden and Milton take the Old

Teestament story and transform it into a vehicle for their own political, social, and

theological agendas.

INDEX WORDS: Dryden, Milton, Free will, Paradise Lost, The State of Innocence,

Hobbes, Bramhall, Restoration drama, Charles II, Cromwell, Interregnum, Catholic

apologists, Reason, Religion, Adam, Eve, Lucifer, Satan

FORBIDDEN FRUIT: DRYDEN’S THE STATE OF INNOCENCE AND FALL OF

MAN, AN OPERATIC VERSION OF PARADISE LOST

DEVANE KING MIDDLETON

B. G. S., Armstrong State College, 1985

A Thesis Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Georgia Southern University in Partial

Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree

MASTER OF ENGLISH

STATESBORO, GEORGIA

2006

DeVane King Middleton

FORBIDDEN FRUIT: DRYDEN’S THE STATE OF INNOCENCE AND FALL OF

MAN, AN OPERATIC VERSION OF PARADISE LOST

DEVANE KING MIDDLETON

Major Professor: Candy B. K. Schille

Committee: David Dudley

Julia Griffin

Electronic Version Approved:

May 2006

DEDICATION

For the four ladies in my life: Linda, Greta, Molly, and Mary.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many people have contributed to this journey, and to thank all of them properly

would be a feat beyond my abilities, so I will thank those I can. First, I must thank my

father DeVane Bryant Middleton, who instilled in me the love of all knowledge. I must

also thank four of my good friends who supported me with their letters of

recommendation to attend Georgia Southern University’s Graduate School, namely

Derek Kight, Ben Martin, Jean Soffel, and Bob Vale. Next, I must mention Dr. John

Humma, who, as director of the English Graduate program, approved my application to

GSU. I continue to owe much to Dr. Fred Sanders as well who first introduced me to

John Dryden’s poetry. All of these gentlemen provided the foundation needed for this

thesis to come to fruition.

Furthermore, I would be remiss not to express my unending gratitude to my thesis

director, Dr. Candy Schille, who has been an inspiration to me since our first meeting.

She built upon the groundwork of Dr. Sanders in developing within me a love of

Dryden’s literature in general and this play in particular. I would also like thank my

committee readers Dr. David Dudley and Dr. Julia Griffin, whose contributions have

been invaluable. All of these persons, and many more, have brought me to this point in

my life, and I will forever be indebted to them. Thank you all.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ................................................................................................ 7

CHAPTER

1 IN THE SHADOW OF MILTON..................................................................... 9

2 LUCIFER: A ROYALIST VISION................................................................ 24

3 EVE: COURTLY LADY OF FASHION........................................................ 40

4 ADAM: A QUESTION OF THEOLOGY...................................................... 56

5 AN INTELLECTUAL JOURNEY: A CONCLUSION ................................. 71

WORKS CITED................................................................................................................ 77

APPENDIX A SYNOPSIS OF STATE OF INNOCENCE

...................................... 82

CHAPTER 1

IN THE SHADOW OF MILTON

In Dryden’s “Apology” to his heroic opera The State of Innocence

, he praises his

source, Milton’s Paradise Lost

, as “one of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime

POEMS, which this Age or Nation has produc’d,” and he prefaces this remark with the

statement that he would be “sorry” should “anyone take the pains to compare them

together” (86). Nevertheless, it is impossible to read Dryden’s play without making such

a comparison (considering the impact of Paradise Lost

through the ages). In fact, finding

an anthology of the early modern era that excludes Milton’s work is nearly impossible,

while Dryden’s play, for the most part, remains neglected by many readers and most

critics. The relatively few reactions to the heroic opera have ranged from condemnation

to praise, from satiric attack to panegyric, and from neglect to intense interest. While a

twentieth century critic calls the play “an offensive vulgarization” (Ferry 21), one of

Dryden’s contemporaries extols its worth as the “best POEM [. . .] [Dryden] ever

wrought” (Lee 4). Yet some wonder why he ever attempted his revision of John Milton’s

iconic classic at all, hence creating a work that would forever fall under the looming

shadow of the original, a shadow that began to show itself even in the criticism of the

play by some of Dryden’s contemporaries.

Of his contemporaries, Andrew Marvell was one for whom Dryden had little or

no respect (a sentiment that seems to have been mutually based on their opposing

political views and Marvell’s distaste for Dryden’s patron, the Duke of York [Winn

264]), although their backgrounds were quite similar: both had grandfathers who had

been imprisoned for refusing the Forced Loan of 1626; both had fathers who had attended

Emmanuel; both were graduates of Trinity (Winn 82). Also, as employees of Cromwell’s

government they had marched together, along with their supervisor John Milton, in

Cromwell’s state funeral (Winn 80). It is Marvell who makes the first critical attack

against Dryden’s play in his preface to the 1674 edition of Paradise Lost

Or if a work so infinite he [Milton] spanned,

Jealous I was that some less skilful hand

(Such as disquiet always what is well,

And by ill imitating would excel)

Might hence presume the whole creation’s day

To change in scenes, and show it in a play. (17-22)

In expressing his admiration of Milton, Marvell uses the opportunity to attack Dryden.

Marvel’s statement that he is jealous, meaning “suspiciously careful or watchful”

(“Jealous” def. 3), is directed at Dryden in an attempt to protect Milton’s work. However,

Marvell’s concern is not in reference to any published work (Dryden’s play was not

published until 1677), but rather an attack on the “many Copies of it being dispers’d

abroad” that Dryden speaks of in his “Apology” (86). There is no doubt that the “less

skilful hand” belongs to Dryden, nor is there any doubt as to which “play” Marvell is

referring. Dryden’s work, according to Marvell, is an “ill” imitation of Milton’s

excellence. But the chiding does not stop there, as Marvell concludes:

Well might’st thou scorn thy readers to allure

With tinkling rhyme, of thy own sense secure;

While the Town-Bayes writes all the while and spells,

And like a pack-horse tires without his bells.

Their fancies like our pushy points appear;

The poets tag them, we for fashion wear.

I too, transported by the mode, offend,

And while I meant to praise thee, must commend.

Thy verse created like thy theme sublime,

In number, weight, and measure, needs not rhyme. (45-54)

Milton writes his blank verse with sublimity while Dryden writes “like a pack-horse” that

“tires without his bells.” Dryden is also identified as the “Town-Bayes,” an obvious

allusion to George Villiers’ play The Rehearsal

, a satirical piece that portrays Dryden, in

the character of “Mr. Bayes,” as a talentless buffoon. Marvell continues to admit that

even though he is “transported by the mode” of rhyming as well, he nonetheless bitterly

attacks Dryden for such an offense, and goes on to satirize the conversation in which

Milton gave permission for Dryden’s revisions, saying to the younger poet: “[. . .] it

seems you have a mind to Tagg my Points, and you have my Leave to Tagg ‘em” (John

Aubrey, qtd in Dearing 320). Yet Dryden, according to Marvell, cheapens the story of the

Fall with his rhymes or “tag[s],” whereas Milton brings the reader to a sense of the

sublime power of God through his blank verse and epic poetry.

However, there were contemporaries of Dryden who thought differently from

Marvell. One of those, Nathaniel Lee, wrote a poem commending Dryden’s “Poem of

Paradice” (Lee 537), a panegyric in which Lee begins by insisting that his words are not

mere flattery:

This fairest labor of your teeming brain

I wou’d embrace, but not with flatt’ry stain;

Something I wou’d to you vast Virtue raise,

But scorn to dawb it with a fulsome praise;

That wou’d but blot the Work I wou’d commend,

And shew a Court-Admirer, not a Friend. (5-10)

Here we see echoes of Horace’s warning in the Art of Poetry

against poets accepting vain

compliments from admirers, especially those indebted to them (74). However, in this case

it is the flatterer himself who is denying insincerity and vanity. Undeniably, Lee was a

friend and collaborator of Dryden’s. In fact, in 1678 their collaboration on the play

Oedipus

would draw the two poets into the controversy of the Popish Plot (Winn 311-

314). In his commendatory poem, Lee makes it his primary purpose is to come to his

friend’s defense against the attacks made by Marvell, but we must not rule out the

possibility that Lee truly believed The State of Innocence

to be Dryden’s best work (4).

While Lee does give a modicum of homage to “the dead Bard” (11), as he calls

Milton, his true praise is for Dryden:

He [Milton] roughly drew, on an old fashion’d ground,

A Chaos, for no perfect World was found,

Till through the heap, your mighty Genius shin’d;

His was the Golden Ore which you refin’d. (14-17)

Though Milton is the “Golden Ore,” he stands on the “old fashion’d ground” of

Cromwell’s reign. Drawing upon memories of the Civil War, Lee reminds the reader of

the “Chaos” of those times in which the Puritan Parliament tried – and failed – to form

England into a “perfect World.” It is the Restoration “Genius” of Dryden that shines and

refines, and it is Restoration culture and politics that open the playhouses for such plays

to flourish.

With the opening of the playhouses, the role of women, both on stage and off,

begins to change, and, during Charles’ Restoration, women were first allowed to perform

on stage. Hence, the stage coquette was born. In this environment, Dryden creates an Eve

who, while coquettish, is also a refined court lady. While many critics object to Dryden’s

transformation of Eve, Lee sees no problem with the courtly image:

You took her thence: to Court this Virgin brought

Drest her with gemms, new weav’d her hard spun thought

And softest Language, sweetest manners taught.

Till from a Comet she a star did rise [. . .] (20-23)

The “Court” is certainly that of Charles II and the soft language and sweet manners those

of an aristocrat that has overtaken the “hard spun thought” of the Puritan age. But Lee

goes even further with his panegyric, claiming it is Dryden’s improvements that make

Milton’s epic a true classic:

Betwixt ye both is fram’d a nobler piece,

Than ere was drawn in Italie or Greece.

Thou from his source of thoughts ev’n Souls dost bring

As smileing gods, from sullen Saturn spring. (26-28)

The connection of thoughts to Milton relates to the “hard spun thought” of the previous

passage, and it is Dryden who brings forth the “Souls” as “smileing gods.” Milton is

“sullen Saturn” from which the gaiety of Dryden’s revision springs.

However, neither Lee’s flattery nor his royalist polemic is complete at this point.

He brings it all together near the end of the poem:

On then O mightiest of the inspir’d men,

Monarch of Verse; new Theams employ thy Pen,

The troubles of Majestick CHARLES set down,

Not David vanquish’d more to reach a Crown,

Praise him, as Cowly did that Hebrew King,

Thy Theam’s as great, do thou as greatly sing. (46-51)

While urging Dryden to write verses praising Charles II as a new King David (a

statement that looks uncannily forward four years to Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel

Lee’s royal panegyric verse raises Dryden to the level of “Monarch” himself. In this

poem, Lee, through his praise of The State of Innocence

, seeks to put to rest both Milton

and the Puritan cause.

But Sir Walter Scott had no such desire to bury Milton, or Milton’s Puritan cause

when he wrote the preface to the play in his 1808 collection of Dryden’s works, and he is

one of the first to wonder at “the motives by which [Dryden] was guided in hazarding

such an attempt” (95). Scott goes on to speculate:

Had the subject been of a nature which admitted its being actually

represented, we might conceive that Dryden, who was under engagements

to the theatre, with which it was not easy to comply, might have been

desirous to shorten his own labour [. . . .] (95)

While Scott is unable to answer the question as to why Dryden wrote the work and

insinuates that Dryden may have been merely lazy, his major issue with the poem is its

language as compared to that of Milton. As he states,

The structure and diction of this opera, as it is somewhat

improperly termed, being rather a dramatic poem, strongly indicate the

taste of Charles the Second’s reign, for what was ingenious, acute, and

polished, in preference to the simplicity of the true sublime. (96)

The Restoration is obviously a problematic era for Scott. While Milton’s language is

described as having “majestic simplicity,” Dryden’s diction “seems misplaced” (97). In

his distaste for Restoration, and Dryden’s, diction, Scott refers to Lee’s panegyric as

expressing “the heretical opinion” common to the time (97).

Insisting that the work “was intended for perusal only” due to the “costume of our

first parents,” Scott claims Dryden’s stage directions fall short of “the terrific and

beautiful descriptions of Milton” (96-97):

What idea, except burlesque, can we form of the expulsion of the fallen

angels from heaven literally represented by their tumbling down upon the

stage? or what feelings of terror can be excited by the idea of an opera

hell, composed of pasteboard and flaming rosin? If these follies were not

actually to be produced before our eyes, it could serve no good purpose to

excite the image of them in our imaginations. (97)

Nevertheless, as Vinton A. Dearing, editor of the California Dryden collection,

concludes, the play was meant for stage production. Furthermore, Adam and Eve had

been portrayed on stage for centuries, and, in the stage direction that Scott calls

“inconvenient,” we are told of an angel making an entrance “with a Woman habited like

Eve” (3.3). “Habited” implies a costume, and the mere presence of stage direction argues

that the intent of the poet was to produce the play in the theater, something that, despite

Scott’s conclusion to the contrary, would have been possible with the machinery at the

time. Dearing tells us that during the years immediately after the opera’s publication, we

find “an increasing use of machines at Drury Lane” (323-324). Citing several examples,

Dearing argues the possibility of the opera’s production:

One stage direction in [Nathaniel Lee’s] Sophonisba

is “The Scene drawn,

discovers a Heaven of blood, two Suns, Spirits in Battle, Arrows shot to

and fro in the Air: Cryes of yielding Persons, &c.”; another is “Rosalinda

rises in a Chair pale with a wound on her breast, two Cupids descend and

hang weeping over her.” Although Rosalinda and the Cupids may have

been lay figures, machinery of at least an elementary kind was now in

place, and effects like the opening display of The State of Innocence

were

possible. (324)

However, Scott’s problem with the play goes beyond its supposed impossibility to be

performed. In addition to his belief that it was never meant for the stage, Scott states that

Dryden fails to reach the level of the sublime that Milton reaches in his poem, and, even

worse, Dryden displays in “our first parents [. . .] some of the false and corrupted taste of

the court of Charles” (97-98). Again, he is expressing his distaste for Restoration culture,

and his bias against the reign of Charles II and the society of Charles’ court clouds his

ability to review Dryden’s play objectively.

Anne Ferry, a twentieth-century critic, is even less impressed with the play. In the

opening chapter of her book Milton and the Miltonic Dryden

, she calls it an “offensive

vulgarization” of Milton’s work (21). Her complaint is that “[t]he vast and mysterious

world of pre-history evoked by Milton’s poem is rendered in the current clichés of

Restoration drama and satire” (21). Her problem seems to be that she fails to get beyond

Absalom and Achitophel

as the greatest adaptation of Miltonic themes that Dryden

produced and uses The State of Innocence

as a comparative tool to show the superiority

of the former to the latter. In fact, her only references to the drama in her book are used to

show how well Dryden’s poetic style shows through in the biblical allegory as opposed to

the drama. Her complaints include that Dryden “in no way idealizes unfallen Adam and

Eve” (89) and that “he makes no distinction between the created nature of Adam and Eve

and their condition after the Fall” (90).

However, Dryden is writing for the stage, and his characters’ development resides

in the genre of drama, not epic, as Milton’s does. Dearing claims that the characters

become, in Dryden’s hands, “comparatively conventional stage presences, drawn with

firm and broad strokes” making a “more immediate and definite impression on the reader

than Milton’s more fully modeled and complex epic figures” (Dearing 326). However

“conventional” Adam and Eve are in Dryden’s hands, it is true that they make an

immediate and definite impression. This is what drama does; it condenses and intensifies

both story lines and characters.

Indeed, Dryden does create moving characters. For example, his Adam is seen

questioning the angels about free will and finally being silenced by decree, to which he

plaintively responds, “Hard state of life! since Heav’n fore-knows my will, / Why am I

not ty’d up from doing ill?” (4.1.113-114).

In addition, his Eve is a stage coquette and a seeker of power. She is Milton’s

“rustic Maid” that Dryden has brought “to Court” and dressed “with gems” (Lee 18-21).

Interestingly, Dryden never shows her tasting the fruit on stage, but he shows her to us

after the Fall, emphasizing her transformation. In comparison to Adam, she feels she

could be the “Soveraign now” (5.1.9); she thinks of “Empire” (5.1.11) and making “his

manhood bow” (5.1.10). At this point, motivated by jealousy, she determines to have

Adam join her in sin; what, she wonders

If I should dye, and he above provide

Some other Eve, and place her in my stead?

Shall she possess his love, when I am dead?

No; he shall eat, and dye with me, or live:

Our equal crimes shall equal fortune give. (5.1.12-16)

Contrary to Ferry’s argument, there are distinctions between the un-fallen and fallen

states of Adam and Eve and Dryden presents the distinctions quite clearly. His Adam and

Eve are innocent at the beginning of the play, and they are transformed to a fallen, though

not necessarily degenerate, state by the end.

Later twentieth century criticism takes a less severe view of the play. However,

while investigating issues inherent within the play itself, many critics still consider

Paradise Lost

the better of the two works. As with earlier criticism, any analysis of the

play must, as Dryden feared, compare it to the original. Morris Freedman, in his article

“The ‘Tagging’ of Paradise Lost: Rhyme in Dryden’s State of Innocence

,” researches the

techniques Dryden uses to turn the epic into a stage play. As would be expected, the play

condenses the original from 10,565 lines to 1,400 lines (18), and, even though it was

never performed, the play was a literary success for the author. As Freedman states, “the

adaptation was immensely popular. It went through more printings during Dryden’s

lifetime [. . .] than did any of his other plays” (18). Although admitting the financial

success of the work, Freedman, like many critics, considers the drama inferior to Paradise

Lost, calling Dryden’s work “a downgrading” of the original (18). But he does involve us

in Dryden’s technique of “condensation” that Freedman calls the “result of dramatic

requirements” (18). Thus, Dryden takes sixteen lines of Milton and condenses them into

nine (19). However, Dryden does not merely condense and downgrade. Freedman claims

that, at times, Dryden’s verse is superior to Milton’s, citing as one example Dryden’s

“Annihilation were to lose heaven more / We are not quite exiled where thought can

soar,” which is his rendition of Milton’s spare “To be no more, sad cure, for who would

lose / Though full of pain, this intellectual being” (qtd in Freedman 19). Freedman admits

Dryden makes some improvements in his dramatization of the original, but, while

recognizing and appreciating Dryden’s style in the play, he concludes that Milton’s work

continues to stand above Dryden’s.

D. W. Jefferson, one of the critics to take the play seriously, writes about

Dryden’s style especially as it pertains to character development. He utilizes Milton’s

phrase that Satan becomes “stupidly good” when first seeing Eve (PL 9.465), “while

Dryden’s devil envisages a special sexual gratification at her expense” (364). For a poet

with a “special delight in mixing the absurd and the grandiose, Lucifer was irresistible

material” (364). Eve seems equally irresistible, according to Jefferson, as he describes the

passage where Adam first encounters the “newly created Eve” (361). Adam proposes to

“teach both himself and her” about sexual love (361), but Eve responds with “female

resistance” “in the spirit of courtly love” (361):

Somewhat forbids me, which I cannot name;

For ignorant of guilt, I fear not shame:

But some restraining thought, I know not why,

Tells me, you long should beg, I long deny. (2.3.52-55)

Jefferson describes this passage as “humorously foreshadowing [. . .] the future

disharmonies of the sexes” but it is still to him “innocent play” (362). One point he

makes is that Dryden’s pair “give none of their time to worshipping their Maker” and that

“apart from husbandry their main interests are sexual” (367).

Although he finds the characterization interesting, however, he goes on to

criticize the poetry in the play as having the quality of “prettiness,” an effect that “is

somewhat reductive, pleasing rather than moving, and occasionally with hints of mild

absurdity” (367). “Prettiness” is his description of these lines by Raphael concerning the

painless death for fallen man (367): “Gently they lay ‘em down, as ev’ning sheep / On

their own woolly fleeces, softly sleep” (5.4.212-213). In his final analysis, Jefferson

states that Dryden has “an art which can find room for the incongruities within his

personality, which he indulges with considerable skill” (367-368). However, his skill, in

Jefferson’s estimation, fails to reach the sublime (as Milton’s poem is often described)

but rather remains in the realm of the aforementioned “prettiness” (367).

There are critics, however, who consider Dryden’s poetry in the play as deserving

of better treatment than Jefferson gives it. As Jean Gagen states the issue,

On more than one occasion, Dryden has been accused of “bad taste” and

“effrontery” in debasing a “noble poem.” More often the play has been

ignored because of the assumption that it is not worthy of sustained

comparison with Paradise Lost

. Nevertheless, from time to time reputable

critics have directed some serious critical attention to the play, and as a

result, much that is helpful in understanding the intellectual background of

the play and Dryden’s aims in composing it has appeared in print. (135)

Gagen goes on to say that the “verse of the play” has received “some genuine plaudits,

even from those who have [. . .] little respect for much else in the play” (135). Despite

such praise, Gagen seems quite surprised “that the changes which Dryden has introduced

into his portrayal of Adam and Eve have been almost totally ignored” (136). Nonetheless,

her final analysis returns to Milton:

The State of Innocence

is not an unrecognized masterpiece.

Nevertheless, Dryden’s portraits of Adam and Eve certainly deserve

attention, for they are among the most interesting and paradoxical features

of a paradoxical play, one which is indeed worthy of a sustained

comparison with Paradise Lost

. (147)

In accord with other late twentieth century critics, she recognizes the power of Dryden’s

characterization. Likewise, Louis Martz says it is in Dryden’s characters (particularly that

of Lucifer) that Dryden distinguishes his work from Milton’s (185). According to Martz,

“Dryden avoids what he seems to have regarded as major flaws in Paradise Lost

,”

including, among others, that “the Devil is the hero, instead of Adam” (185). Thus, we

see the reasons for Dryden’s revisions. As we will see with Satan and Lucifer in Chapter

II, Dryden revises Paradise Lost with the thought of “succeeding where Milton had

failed,” and, therefore, Dryden’s revisions are a result of his objections to some of

Milton’s characterizations and his use of blank verse for a heroic epic (Dearing 342);

hence, his use of heroic couplets and the repainting of the characters.

In spite of a more sympathetic view of the drama by modern critics, Dryden’s fear

that the two works would be forever locked in comparison has shown to be prophetic

(Dryden “Apology” to Innocence

86). However, there are differences in the two works

that should be investigated without the traditional hierarchical view. There are political,

social, and theological differences between the two authors that are defined, in Dryden’s

work, through the three major characters. Dryden’s royalist political views are evident in

the personage of Lucifer, a character whose rebellion against God and Christ embodies

the presumed sinfulness of the rebellious subjects who clamored for the execution of

Charles I; Dryden’s Eve, in her desire for equality with Adam, represents the narcissistic,

power seeking, Restoration coquettes that populated not only the stages of the newly

opened playhouses, but the royal court as well; and his Adam diverges from Milton’s in

the theological discourse over free will. Indeed, Dryden’s Adam questions the wisdom of

such an idea in a scene that, while stopping all action on the stage, remains intriguing.

These differences cannot be fully brought into the critical discourse unless we dispense

with the view that Dryden’s play must always be compared for quality with Milton’s

poem. The play can, and should, be allowed to stand on its own merits. Whether or not

the play is an “unrecognized masterpiece” (Gagen 147) remains an item for debate and

will remain so as long as the original maintains its standing in the literary canon.

However, Dryden is a great canonical figure in his own right, and to dismiss The State of

Innocence as merely an inferior work that Dryden should never have attempted is a

mistake. It is more than a vulgarization of Paradise Lost

, and it is time we allowed

Dryden’s work to step out from Milton’s shadow.

CHAPTER 2

LUCIFER : A ROYALIST VISION

Lucifer, for Dryden, was an irresistible vehicle to present the royalist view that

considers any rebellion against the Crown a sin. At the time he was writing The

State of

Innocence

, Dryden would have subscribed to what had been written a century before in

the Anglican document An Homily Against Disobedience and Willful Rebellion

, which

proclaims “the first author of [. . .] rebellion [. . .] was Lucifer” (346). Rebellion is

denounced as “the root of all vices and mother of all mischiefs,” while obedience is

extolled as “the principal virtue of all virtues.” Going further, we are told “that kings and

princes, as well the evil as the good, do reign by God’s ordinance and that subjects are

bound to obey them.” Although composed as the Crown’s response to the Northern

Rebellion of 1569 (345-346), the Homily

would have been pertinent to the adherents of

the Restoration and, certainly, to a staunch royalist like Dryden.

But to call Dryden a staunch royalist, while true, is a simplification of his

complex political thought and ignores the path he took to reach that position. Indeed, his

Puritan childhood upbringing might have suggested his political thought to be more in

line with such exhortations as Milton’s A Defence of the People of England

, which states

that “free popular assemblies are of God and may therefore compel the compliance of

their kings or cast them off” (qtd. in Zwicker 40). However, the Parliamentarian gentry

from whom Dryden sprang were deeply conservative and quite removed from the ideas

held by the radicals who executed Charles I (Winn 10). Their conservatism included a

“desire to maintain position and property,” and “a sense of themselves [. . .] as ‘above’

the common people” (Winn 10-11). Therefore Dryden’s parents, adhering to the

conservative belief that “the greater the childe is” the greater the need “for him to be

brought up in learning, and in good literature,” would have held his need for a sound

education foremost in their minds (Winn 11).

His education included a stay at the Westminster School under Headmaster

Richard Busby, who had attained his appointment in 1638 partly due to his royalist

sentiments, yet was retained by the Parliamentary committee because of his sheer

excellence (Winn 38-39). Evidently, the committee considered Busby’s academic

credentials as far more important than any political thoughts he may have impressed upon

the young students. Thus Dryden, by spending his formative teenage years under the

tutelage of the royalist headmaster, would have certainly fallen under the influence of

Busby’s political ideals, and, even after attending the Puritan-controlled Trinity College

in his young adulthood (Winn 61), Dryden still held to the royalist politics of his old

headmaster, a position that is evident in his later writings both before and after his

election as Poet Laureate to the Court of Charles II (Winn 192).

But Charles’ court was not the first court for which Dryden labored in his career.

In 1657, Dryden obtained, with the help of his relative, Sir Gilbert Pickering, an

appointment with Cromwell’s court, quite possibly, along with Marvell, in the office of

Milton, the Latin Secretary (Winn 79-80). Although the Latin Secretary himself was

totally blind by 1652 and stayed home most of the time, Dryden, who marched with

Milton in Cromwell’s funeral, presumably did meet the poet in the office (Winn 81).

However, we have no record of their relations during this time, and, as Winn states:

“Milton was fifty and famous; Dryden was twenty-seven and unknown” (81). Therefore,

their relationship was most likely distant and formal (Winn 81). Dryden was obviously

impressed with Milton, and, even as Poet Laureate under Charles II, “he never attacked

his old supervisor, as some gloating Royalists did in 1660; his references to Milton

throughout his career are respectful” (Winn 81). In 1669, after receiving a copy of

Paradise Lost

from Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, Dryden responded: “that Poet has

cutt us all out” (qtd in Winn 81), a sentiment he reinforces in his “Apology” to The State

of Innocence (86).

Even though Dryden had great respect for Milton in general and for Paradise Lost

in particular, he was not afraid to attack what he considered the poem’s greatest

weakness, namely that in his estimation Milton makes Satan the hero of the work

(Dryden Æneis

276). He also felt that Milton “creeps along sometimes, for above an

Hundred lines together” and that Milton’s “antiquated words” create a “perpetual

harshness of [. . .] sound” (Sylvæ

17). With these flaws in mind, Dryden sets out to

remedy Milton’s failures , and, although critics disagree over the success of his language,

nonetheless, no one has supposed Dryden’s Lucifer as the hero of the opera.

It is through the character Lucifer that Dryden’s divergent political agenda is

portrayed. Dryden’s Lucifer has no problem equating God, and himself, with earthly

kings. As Marcie Frank explains,

The ease with which Dryden’s Lucifer refers to “kings” as the paradigm of

power contrasts sharply with Milton’s Satan’s indirect critical gesture

towards God as “he who reigns.” Dryden’s royalism informs his revision

of Milton’s Satan and his acceptance of monarchy as the model for divine

rule. (48)

While Dryden’s Lucifer does not directly name God as king, he does, through his

methods for developing a government in hell (1.1), reinforce the royalist belief that the

monarchy is not only ordained by God, but also built upon God’s model for ruling the

universe. This argument is carried forth in An Homily Against Disobedience and Willful

Rebellion:

And for that similitude that is between the heavenly monarchy and earthly

kingdoms well governed, our savior Christ in sundry parables saith that

the kingdom of heaven is resembled unto a man a king, and as the name of

the king is very often attributed and given unto God in the Holy

Scriptures, so doth God himself in the same Scriptures sometime

vouchsafe to communicate his name with earthly princes, terming them

gods. (348)

God relates other princes to himself by calling them gods, and Christ, in his parables

makes the “similitude” between earthly and heavenly kingdoms. Hence, rebellion against

an earthly monarch is rebellion against the Almighty himself and equal to the sin of

Lucifer. Therefore, Dryden’s Lucifer, while having striking similarities to Milton’s Satan,

diverges from him because each author is presenting a demonic government that is a

perversion of his individual vision of the site of political power. While Milton’s demons

all meet like a Parliament in the newly built Pandemonium, Dryden’s ruling demons are

an elite few who must meet in private for, as Beëlzebub says, “’tis not fit / [. . .] / [. . .]

Th’ Ignoble Crowd of Vulgar Devils hear” (1.1.77-80). Thus, while Milton’s demons all

gather in a debate consisting of long speeches, Dryden’s demons deliberate the Fall of

Man in a private court attended by a select few. Lucifer, for Dryden, is a usurper to the

throne motivated by his arrogant feelings that he, as a divine creature endowed with free

will, has an innate right to place himself equal to God.

But let us first look at Milton’s ideas on angelic government, especially that of the

government in hell. In fact, he did believe in a hierarchy amongst the angels, both good

as well as evil, and that they maintained their places within that hierarchy. In his work on

Christian Doctrine

, Milton states what he considers a Biblically sound view of the

relationship between Satan and the fallen angels:

The devils have their prince too: Matt. xii. 24: Beelzebub prince of

devils, similarly Luke xi. 15; Matt. xxv. 41: for the devil and his angels;

Rev. xii. 9: that great dragon and his angels.

They also keep their ranks: Col. ii. 15: having plundered

principalities and powers; Eph: vi. 12: against powers and principalities.

(413).

While this coincides with the divine model that the royalists endorsed, Milton decried

applying it to human government. Milton’s beliefs ran closer to those of the early Old

Testament that God was the king of the nation and that the choosing of an earthly

monarch was a rejection of God (I Samuel 8.7). With these beliefs in mind and in

response to General George Monk’s address to the parliament suggesting that the

republican government would not endure, Milton published his treatise The Ready and

Easy Way to Establish a Free Commonwealth, arguing against those who wished “to put

our necks again under kingship, as was made use of by the Jews to return back to Egypt”

(395). The treatise, being a defense of “The good old [republican] Cause (396),

concludes, in part with

But I trust I shall have spoken persuasion to abundance of sensible and

ingenuous men; to some, perhaps, whom God may raise of these stones to

become children of reviving liberty; and may reclaim, though they seem

now choosing them a captain back for Egypt, to bethink themselves a

little, and consider whither they are rushing; to exhort this torrent also of

the people not to be so impetuous, but to keep their due channel; (396)

The Ready and Easy Way to Establish a Free Commonwealth

, published just prior to

Charles II’s return to power, added to the troubles Milton experienced soon after the

Restoration. Although originally listed in the Indemnity Bill for special punishment (a

euphemism for execution), when the bill was passed on the 29

of August 1660, “Milton

did not appear as one of the exceptions on any ground or in any of the grades” (Masson

342-343). Despite his reprieve, anyone listed as an exception to the Indemnity Bill would

be destined for the gallows. However, as Masson explains, Milton “was in some legal

danger to as late as December 1660” (343). At that time he was arrested by the sergeant-

at-arms even though his “special prosecution ordered against him by the Commons had

been quashed by the Indemnity Bill” (345). After Milton’s complaint against the

“sergeant-at-arms for demanding exorbitant fees for his release,” the House arranged for

his release (343). Upon being released, Milton soon retired to his Jewin Street home

where he wrote the bulk of Paradise Lost

(345). We see the effects of these events upon

him “when he tells us how, by the Divine help, he had been able to persevere

undauntedly” (343). Hence, in Book VII we hear that he is

[ . . . ] though fall’n on evil days,

On evil days though fall’n, and evil tongues;

In darkness, and with dangers compassed round,

And solitude; yet not alone, while thou

Visit’st my slumbers nightly, or when morn

Purples the east: [. . .] (PL 7.25-30)

Whether or not the “evil days” of the Restoration and his subsequent persecution as “an

infamous outcast [. . .] and regicide who had, by too great clemency, been left unhanged”

(Masson 343) had an effect on his portrayal of satanic government remains unknown;

what is known is that Milton wrote the bulk of Paradise Lost

after these events, and as

Scott Elledge, the editor of the Norton edition of Paradise Lost

, states,

The five New Testament titles, Thrones, Dominions (or Dominations),

Virtues, Powers, and Principalities (or Princedoms), which Satan was so

fond of rolling off his tongue when addressing his followers, are all words

for power and authority, and all the angels in Paradise Lost

, in heaven and

hell, seem to live in societies where everyone has a title, a province, and a

responsibility to a superior lord and ultimately to a king, but nothing quite

that explicit appears in Paradise Lost

. (467).

Though there is no explicit king of hell, Milton does place his Satan “[h]igh on a throne

of royal state” (PL 2.1), and his fellow demons often address him as “Prince” (PL 1.128).

But, “Prince” is a term used for all the demons, as is shown in Beëlzebub’s speech

describing the demons’ newly fallen state:

“Thrones and imperial Powers, offspring of heav’n

Ethereal Virtues; or these titles now

Must we renounce, and changing style be called

Princes of hell?” (PL 2.310-313)

Satan, therefore, as a Prince among Princes, rules through the manipulation of the

parliamentary process. His skillful political machinations grant him the position he

desires, that of leaving hell to execute the Fall of Man. He begins by asking the demons

[. . .] But first whom shall we send

In search of this new world, whom shall we find

Sufficient? (PL 2.402-404)

To which he receives no answer:

Astonished: none among the choice and prime

Of those heav’n warring champions could be found

So hardy as to proffer or accept

Alone the dreadful voyage; (PL 2.423-426)

The demons, having voted for a war of deceit (PL 2.389) and an attack on God’s new

creature Man, are fearful of the peril of the “dreadful voyage”; therefore, they leave the

opportunity open for Satan, who humbly accepts:

“[. . .] Wherefore do I assume

These royalties, and not refuse to reign,

Refusing to accept as great a share

Of hazard as of honor, due alike

To him who reigns, and so much to him due

Of hazard more, as he above the rest

High honored sits?” (PL 2.450-456)

His “high honor” and “royalties” appear to be granted to him by the fallen deities over

whom he rules. While the entire process looks exceedingly democratic, we are

nonetheless positive that Satan has the situation under his control. It is his manner of rule

that makes Satan’s reign over the demons a perversion of Milton’s idea of parliamentary

government.

Dryden, however, has no problem with an explicit kingdom of hell. Therefore, he

presents his Lucifer as a royal prince who reigns tyrannically over his subjects, portraying

a form of government that is quite different from Milton’s. As Frank explains: “Dryden

shows the fallen angels in a council that is not a parliament but a cabal” (47), and while

Milton’s Satan appears “momentarily modest” at accepting the risk of investigating

Paradise (48), Dryden’s Lucifer is more direct in his manner and obvious in his motives:

Belial. Great is th’ advantage, great the hazards are.

Some one (but who that task dares undertake?)

Of this new Creature must discovery make. [. . .]

Moloch. This Glorious Enterprise------------[Rising Up]

Lucifer. ------------------------------------------Rash Angel, stay;

[Rising, and laying his Scepter on Moloch his head]

That Palm is mine, which none shall take away. [. . .]

Why am I rank’d in State above the rest,

If while I stand of Sovereign Pow’r possest,

Another dares, in danger, farther go?

Kings are not made for ease, and Pageant-show.

Who would be Conquerour, must venture all:

He merits not to rise, who dares not fall. (1.1.161-179)

Lucifer, donning the full regalia of royalty including a scepter, asks for no volunteers for

the mission to Paradise. He is a king “not made for ease” and forcefully makes his will

known to his subordinate fallen angels. Moloch creates a threat to Lucifer’s authority by

attempting to volunteer, so Lucifer quashes the attempt quickly. The “Palm” that he

claims is the prize of glory and right to kingship that he has already assumed and

therefore must protect. He proclaims his royal empire in the opening lines of the play:

Lucifer. Is this the Seat our Conqueror has given?

And this the Climate we must change for Heaven?

These Regions and this Realm my Wars have got;

This Mournful Empire is the Loser’s Lot: (1. 1-4)

While Dryden’s Lucifer speaks of “[t]hese Regions and this Realm” and a “Mournful

Empire”, Milton’s Satan laments about the “region, [. . .] the soil,” and “the clime”

(1.242). Instead of an empire, hell is only a “mournful gloom” (1.244).

Indeed another striking difference is that Dryden leaves out the following

remorseful soliloquy of Milton’s Satan: “Farewell happy fields / Where joy for ever

dwells” (1.249-250). There is no remorse in the hearts of Dryden’s demons; there is only

defiance, a defiance born out of the free will divinely allotted to the rebel angels.

Asmoday first expresses this theme with his remark to Lucifer: “we defie him [God] still

/ And yet wage War, with our unconquer’d Will” (1.1.24-25). Homage to a higher power,

either heavenly or terrestrial, proves impossible. Continuing this theme Moloch declares:

Mol. Chang’d as we are, we’re yet from Homage free;

We have, by Hell, at least, gain’d liberty;

That’s worth our fall; thus low tho’ we are driven,

Better to Rule in Hell, than serve in Heaven. (1.1.63-66)

Which is an obvious echo of Milton’s

[. . .] “Here at least

We shall be free; th’ Almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence;

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav’n.” (1.258-263)

Milton’s Satan, like Dryden’s Lucifer [“Heaven cannot Envy me an Empire here”

(1.1.38)], comments on the Almighty’s “envy”, but Milton’s fiend considers hell a place

where they may “reign secure”, a place where “[a]t least” they are “free.” Dryden’s

demons, through the speech of Moloch, discuss ruling hell like an empire, although not a

desirable one. Conversely, Milton’s hell appears to be a refuge where they may be safe

from any further onslaughts from heaven.

The audience, knowing that Paradise Lost

was the source for the play, would

realize that it is Christ to whom the demons refuse to pay homage, but Dryden never

mentions that directly. Instead Lucifer continues to display his disgust for any act of

subordination, saying, upon his first sight of Adam and Eve, that God, “wanting subjects

to his haughty Will, / On this mean Work, employ[s] his trifling skill” (3.1.54-55).

However, it is the devil in both works who has taken a third of Heaven’s angels with him

into hell, the inference being that his revolt is the creative act that leads to the birth of

man because God no longer has enough angels for subjects. In the next scene, scornful of

any act of subservience, Lucifer speaks venomously to Gabriel and Ithuriel:

Lucifer. Go, slaves, return, and fawn in Heav’n again;

Seek thanks from him whose quarrel you maintain.

Vile wretches! of your servitude to boast:

You basely keep the place I bravely lost. (3.3.60-63)

Calling Gabriel and Ithuriel “slaves,” Lucifer shows his contempt for any submissive

position. He claims they are not free, to which Ithuriel replies: “Freedome is choice of

what we will and do: / Then blame not servants who are freely so. / ‘Tis base, not to

acknowledge what we owe” (3.3.64-66). Lucifer rejects Ithuriel’s statement, for freedom

for him is the opposition of submitting to a higher authority of any sort, earthly or

heavenly. His sin is his pride and his lust for “pow’r to quit th’ upbraided (nauseous

[“Upbraided” Def. 6b]) debt” (3.3.68). Therefore, while Ithuriel speaks of giving thanks

freely, Lucifer says, “Thanks, how er’e due, proclame subjection yet” (3.3.67). Dryden

derived these lines from Satan’s soliloquy in Book IV as he “falls into many doubts with

himself” (84). Milton’s passage reads: “I [di]sdained subjection, and thought one step

higher / Would set me highest, and in a moment quit / The debt immense of endless

gratitude” (PL 4.50-52). Both authors consider ingratitude as one of the fallen angels’

major sins. The good angels remain faithful by freely submitting to the “endless

gratitude” required by God. However, driven by his own misguided free will, Lucifer is

unable to feel any gratitude toward anyone.

Gabriel replies to Lucifer with a passage taken from the scene in Paradise Lost

where Raphael instructs Adam about free will. The major differences between Dryden’s

passage and Milton’s revolves around who is speaking and to whom. Hence, Milton’s

Raphael informs Adam that

[. . .] freely we serve

Because we freely love, as in our will

To love or not; in this we stand or fall:

And some are fall’n, to disobedience fall’n,

And so from heaven to deepest hell; O fall

From what high state of bliss into what woe! (PL 5.538-543)

Likewise, Dryden’s Gabriel tells Lucifer the angels are

Made for his use; yet he has form’d us so

We, unconstrained, what he commands us do,

So praise we him and serve him freely best:

Thus thou, by choice, art fall’n and we are blest. (3.3.75-78)

In both works the demons have fallen due to “choice,” stemming from the freedom

endowed upon them by the Creator. The angels, like all of God’s creatures, are free “[t]o

love or not.” The creation of angels as entities endowed with free will, while not causing

their fall, becomes the tool for its implementation. Milton’s God explains, they “freely

[. . .] stood who stood, and fell who fell” (PL 3.103), leaving the fault not to God whose

“[f]oreknowledge had no influence on their fault” (PL 3.118) but to the angels

themselves. Dryden has Ithuriel reinforce this theme with “Freedome is choice of what

we will and do: / Then blame not servants who are freely so” (3.3.64-65). The paradox

remains with God’s “foreknowledge,” but Dryden avoids the subject at this point, saving

it for Act IV.

The similarities concerning the free will of angels notwithstanding, Dryden does

endeavor to create a Lucifer who is different from Milton’s Satan based on his concern

that “the Devil [is] the hero [of Paradise Lost

] instead of Adam” (Dryden Æneis 276).

Certainly, Satan is “of the first, / If not the first Archangel” (PL 5.6599-660) until the

Father proclaims “the Son of God” as “Messiah King” (PL 5.662,664), thereby creating a

sympathetic character who perhaps justly feels “impaired” by the actions of God (PL

5.665). Furthermore, Milton uses heroic imagery in his description of Satan’s war armor,

telling us that

[. . .] the superior Fiend

Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield

Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,

Behind him cast; the broad circumference

Hung on his shoulders like the moon [. . . .]

[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .]

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine

Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast

Of some great ammiral [admiral], were but a wand, (1.283-287, 293-295)

Milton’s heroic imagery places Satan on the level with the classical hero Achilles.

Through Milton’s language, Satan is transformed from a debased devil into a great

warrior who carries a shield and armor unequaled by any mortal. Through the fantastic

images of a shield as big as “the moon” and a spear greater than “the tallest pine,” the

passage creates a picture that is reminiscent of Homer’s depiction of the forging of

Achilles great shield:

And first Hephaestus makes a great and massive shield,

blazoning well-wrought emblems all across its surface,

raising a rim around it, glittering, triple-ply

with a silver shield-strap run from edge to edge

and five layers of metal to build the shield itself,

and across its vast expanse with all his craft and cunning

the god creates a world of gorgeous immortal work. (Il. 8.558-564)

Undoubtedly, these fantastic images would be impossible to portray on a seventeenth

century stage, but in addition to dismissing any sympathetic motivations due to God

anointing Christ as Messiah, Dryden presents a Lucifer who is not a heroic warrior at all

but a dissembling creature filled with spite who, upon seeing Adam and Eve kissing,

responds venomously with,

Unwillingly I hate such excellence;

She wronged me not; but I revenge the offence

Through her, on Heav’n whose thunder took away

My birth-right skyes! live happy whilst you may,

Blest pair, y’are not allow’d another day! (3.1.96-100)

Admittedly, Dryden derived these lines directly from Paradise Lost

: “[. . .] Live while ye

may, / Yet happy pair; enjoy, till I return, / Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed”

for Milton’s Satan feels much spite as well (PL 4.533-535), but with Dryden, we get no

sense that Lucifer could be a hero.

The similarities between Dryden’s Lucifer and Milton’s Satan pertain largely to

the use of deception against the first parents of humankind. Since both authors would

have considered the story as historical fact, their interpretations are bound to have

coinciding elements. However, Dryden varies from Milton in the depiction of the

government in hell and his avoidance of any heroic symbolism concerning the devil.

While both works depict a devil who has a debased and dissembling character, it is only

in Milton’s epic that there is any the possibility of a demonic hero. In addition, Dryden’s

cabal government has an explicit devil king at its head where Milton’s parliament does

not. According to Dryden’s royalist view, the divine model of government under a king

encompasses the government in hell as well as the one on earth. By creating parodies of

their separate visions of government (republican and royalist), the authors portray their

concerns over the misuse of such governments. Therefore, Dryden’s Lucifer becomes an

evil tyrant with little regard for the ranks below him, while Milton’s demonic parliament

comes close to depicting the political anarchy that eventually brought on the Restoration

(Masson 345).

However, regardless of the types of government portrayed in the two works, the

dissembler orchestrates the Fall. Returning to the Biblical narrative we see that “the

serpent was more [subtle] than any beast of the field” (Gen. 3.1). It is through subtlety

that the devil attacks the first human pair. In both works the target for the attack is the

supposed weaker of the two, the one with “organs of [. . .] fancy” (PL 4.502), the one

who falls susceptible to “[i]llusions [. . .] phantasms and dreams” (PL 4.503). Dryden’s

Lucifer explains it thus: “[. . .] Mimic fancy wakes, / Supplies her parts, and wild Idea’s

takes / From words and things [. . .]” (3.3.5-7). Of course, we are speaking of the mother

of all humankind: Eve. She becomes the target for the attack and, as we shall see, through

her own free will introduces sin into the world.

CHAPTER 3

EVE: COURTLY LADY OF FASHION

Nathaniel Lee, in his poem about The State of Innocence

, praises Dryden for

taking Milton’s “rustic [m]aid” and bringing her “to court” dressed in “gemms” (Lee 18-

20). Indeed Eve is the personification of the women, both married and single, with whom

Dryden was associated in the court of Charles II. After the reopening of the playhouses,

with female actors appearing on stage, the political atmosphere of the theater became

charged with intrigue. Many of the members of the court, including the King himself,

“had actresses amongst their mistresses, and at least one playwright [during the

Restoration was] rewarded for his theatrical wit by acquiring a famous court beauty as his

mistress” (Winn 226). Thus, Eve becomes, through Dryden’s dramatization, a portrayal

of both the submissive housewife and the coquettish mistress. She, like many of Dryden’s

characters, is developed from his love for “debate and discourse,” by which he often

“adopts a position somewhere in the middle of his arguments” (Salvaggio 7), or, just as

often, retains the integrity of – and tension between – opposing positions. Like the court

mistresses, she desires power and equality, but she also desires Adam as a husband and

soul mate.

Dryden’s association with the intrigues of the court and the theater began soon

after the Restoration of Charles II, and at some point from 1666 to 1669 he had taken “an

attractive actress [Anne Reeves] as his mistress” (Winn 226). He placed her in several of

his plays, including The Conquest of Granada

and Secret Love (Winn 217, 234). In the

epilogue of the special revival of Secret Love

with an all female cast, Reeves boasts that

“our Legs are no ill sight, / And they will give you no ill Dreams at night” (qtd. in Winn

236), explaining that the true reason for the lack of men on the stage was to satisfy the

voyeuristic desire of the audience by having women on stage dressed in men’s clothing

(Winn 236). (Even more voyeuristic would have been a performance of The State of

Innocence, in which Eve would, by necessity of the subject matter, be dressed in a

costume representing the nude body.) Eventually, Dryden’s widely publicized affair with

Reeves would produce a strain on Dryden’s marriage to Elizabeth Howard Dryden, and

in The State of Innocence

we can hear, through the arguments between Adam and Eve,

“the distant echoes of similar squabbles between John and Elizabeth Dryden, whose

relations were undergoing the strain of Dryden’s tightened finances and public infidelity”

(Winn 268). Thus, Eve, as the first woman, is the personification of both women in

general and the particular women in Dryden’s life. As such, Dryden treats her with both a

critical and a sympathetic eye, illustrating her motivations as stemming from her

narcissism that leads to her desire for sovereignty and power, to displays of her jealousy

of both Adam and Lucifer, and, ultimately, to her ability to question the paradox of free

will.

In both Dryden’s play and Milton’s epic, Eve’s narcissism is first represented at a

watery site; a lake in Milton, a fountain in Dryden.. Although the scenes are similar in the

hands of both authors, there are some differences that need exploring. First, Milton’s

version of Eve’s narcissism:

As I bent down to look, just opposite,

A shape within the wat’ry gleam appeared

Bending to look on me, I started back,

It started back, but pleased I soon returned,

Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks

Of sympathy and love [. . .] (PL 4.460-465)

While we cannot deny Milton’s implication that Eve is narcissistic, Dryden intensifies

her emotion by turning the scene upside down. Instead of an outward projection of self-

love, there is an inner reception:

And now a Face peeps up, and now draws near,

With smiling looks, as pleas’d to see me here.

As I advance, so that advances too,

And seems to imitate what e’er I do:

When I begin to speak, the lips it moves;

Streams drown the voice, or it would say it loves. (2.3.18-23)

Milton’s Eve falls in love with her reflection. While that is an extreme narcissistic act,

and one quite pertinent to Restoration society’s emphasis on beauty, Dryden intensifies

Eve’s narcissism and, by portraying this scene on the stage, presents her as “both

spectacle and spectator to herself” (Schille 12). As Dryden writes the scene, Eve doesn’t

immediately fall in love with her reflection; her reflection immediately falls in love with

her. Eve’s love of her reflection is in answer to the love emitted from the fountain. It is

not the reflection that answers her loving remarks, but Eve is the responsive partner in the

relationship. This sets the tone for her first meeting with Adam where she says,

Eve. O, only like my self, (for nothing here

So Graceful, so majestick does appear:)

Art thou the Form my longing eyes did see,

Loos’d from thy fountain, and come out to me? (2.3.36-39)

Eve’s narcissism, in Dryden’s version, brings about her trouble with submission to

Adam. She sees him as a mirror of herself and not someone to whom she must submit.

Like Adam, the audience is enticed by, as James Ogden says, her “innocent

provocativeness” (19).

The Eve we see here is like the “forceful and highly articulate women” Dryden

had been portraying for years (Gagen 141). As Gagen explains, Dryden at times

“borrowed closely from Milton in his portrayal of Eve as inferior and subordinate to

Adam, at other times he departed widely from this conception” (136). In fact there are

times when “Eve is assigned a sovereignty over Adam which is considered just and right,

not only by her and by Adam but by their angelic mentor as well” (137). Her ability to be

forceful and highly articulate is apparent in the first dialogue with Adam, in which she

immediately gains the upper hand:

Adam. Made to command, thus freely I obey,

And at thy feet the whole Creation lay.

Pity that love thy beauty does beget:

What more I shall desire, I know not yet.

First let us lock’d in close embraces be;

Thence I, perhaps, may teach my self, and thee.

Eve. Somewhat forbids me, which I cannot name;

For ignorant of guilt, I fear not shame:

But some restraining thought, I know not why,

Tells me, you long should beg, I long deny. (2.3.46-55)

Her coyness at first angers Adam. He claims her denial of him would be “[i]n vain” since

his right to her is “sealed from above” (2.3.56). He is certainly remembering the

statement of Raphael that Eve would be “[a]n equal, yet [Adam’s] subject” (2.1.64). But

Eve sees the situation quite differently. Her statement that he “long should beg” and she

“long deny” is her first attempt to gain power over Adam (2.3.55). Eve, like many

women of Dryden’s time, is looking for a transformation, one that will make her equal, or

superior, to Adam. As a faithful wife, she seeks Adam’s love; as a coquette, she seeks

power. In spite of her love for Adam, it is power and empire that she desires. Although at

times convinced to be submissive, she does not agree with the belief that she must always

obey Adam “and cease from commanding and perform subjection” (Homily of

Matrimony 286). Her lust for power is the “restraining thought” that drives her in this

scene (2.3.54). Dryden’s Eve seeks more than the answer to the “for inferior who is

free?” question posed by Milton’s Eve (PL 9.825). She seeks her own sovereignty. Her

feelings of superiority are a part of her narcissistic nature even before she falls in love

with herself at the fountain. Immediately after her creation she observes that

[. . .] from each Tree

The feather’d kind peep down, to look on me;

And Beasts, with up-cast eyes, forsake their shade,

And gaze, as if I were to be obeyed. (2.3.10-13)

Dryden’s Eve sees herself as something to gaze upon and even states that “I my self am

proud of me” (2.3.14). Ogden says that in this scene “the new-created Eve asks questions

about the nature of human life, but finds no answers beyond that she herself is a being

who should be worshipped by the animals. So she exhibits vanity before seeing herself

mirrored in the pool” (17). In Paradise Lost Satan is the character who notices that “all

living things gaze on” Eve’s beauty, but Dryden deliberately puts Satan’s words in Eve’s

mouth to show her desire for supremacy. Adam inadvertently feeds her narcissism when

he first greets her as the “fairest of [the] great Creator’s Work’s,” telling her she is a

“Goddess” placed “on Earth to Reign” (2.3.29-31). Again these are words from Milton’s

Satan who tells Eve:

Fairest resemblance of they Maker fair,

[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .]

[. . .] who shouldst be seen

A goddess among gods, adored and served

By angels [. . .] (PL 9. 538, 546-548)

Dryden’s Lucifer flatters Eve as well by calling her “Nature’s Queen” (4.2.71) and telling

her that she has “[s]uch Beauty” that if she were raised to the level of a goddess she

might “raise factions in [. . .] Heav’n” (4.2.98). Lucifer continues to play on her

aspirations to sovereignty by stating that God is in awe of her, therefore “does possession

keep, / And is too wise to hazard partnership” (4.2.99-100). In his attempt to stir Eve’s

contempt of subjugation, Lucifer even accuses God of being lustful of power:

‘Tis all his aym to keep you blindly low,

That servile fear from ignorance may flow:

We scorn to worship whom too well we know.

He knows that eating you shall god-like be;

As wise, as fit to be ador’d, as he. (4.2.92-96)

While keeping the wording close to that of Paradise Lost, in which Satan says God

desires to “keep [Adam and Eve] low and ignorant” in order for them to be “His

worshipers” (PL 9.704-705), Dryden makes an interesting addition by having Lucifer tell

Eve she would be “as fit to be ador’d” as God if she were but to taste the fruit (4.2.96).

It is after she tastes the fruit that her yearning to be supreme seems within her

grasp. Realizing she has changed, she says that she “tread[s] more lightly on the ground,”

her “nimble feet” “rebound” “from unhurt flow’rs” (5.1.1-2). Scornful of “this Earthly

seat,” she feels she is “walk[ing] in Ayr” and contemplates the “unkind[ness]” of leaving

Adam “behind” (5.1.3,5-6). Directing her thought toward allowing Adam to taste the fruit

as well, she soliloquizes,

I love the wretch; but stay, shall I afford

Him part? already he’s too much my Lord.

‘Tis in my pow’r to be a Soveraign now;

And, know more, to make his manhood bow,

Empire is sweet [. . .] (5.1.7-11)

Differing from Milton’s Eve who wants to keep “the odds of knowledge” within her

“power” in order to be “more equal, and perhaps / Superior” (PL 9.820, 823-824),

Dryden’s Eve speaks like a usurper to the throne of the husband and considers herself an

empress, a position warned against in the Anglican Homily of the State of Marriage:

Shall she abuse the gentleness and humanity of her husband and at her

pleasure turn all things upside down? No surely, for that is far repugnant

against God’s commandment. [. . .] But as for their husbands, them must

they obey and cease from commanding and perform subjection. (286)

But for Eve, Adam is “too much [her] Lord” and she wants to make him “bow” to her

(5.1.8, 10). Her desire to usurp her husband is a divergence from the concerns that

Milton’s Eve has about her inferiority preventing her freedom (PL 9.825).

This is not the first time Eve has mentioned her sovereignty. In her first scene

with Adam, after he chastises her for being coy, she replies with a response that indicates

she is already having problems with the matrimonial arrangement and hints that Adam

will be unfaithful:

Eve. I well fore-see, when e’r thy suit I grant

That I my much-lov’d Soveraignty shall want:

Or like my self, some other may be made;

And her new Beauty may thy heart invade. (2.3.66-69)

In the end of the scene, her submission to Adam causes her “want of worth [to] grieve”

(2.3.77). Dryden’s Eve feels that her worthiness is dependent upon her sovereignty where

Milton’s Eve, in “meek surrender, half imbracing,” kisses Adam, who “in delight / Both

of her Beauty and submissive Charms / Smil’d with superior Love” (PL 4.492-502).

Dryden could have been inspired by some of the coyness evident in Milton’s earlier lines

in the same book where Eve is described as yielding to Adam with “coy submission,

modest pride, / And sweet reluctant amorous delay” (PL 4.310-311). Still, Milton’s Eve

is more submissive to the marriage contract and only becomes concerned over Adam’s

infidelity after she tastes the fruit and she is sure she will die, leaving him to be “wedded

to another Eve” (PL 9.828).

In both works, Eve’s jealousy of a rival for Adam’s affections stems ultimately

from her intense love for him. In Dryden’s version, she tells Adam

With thee to live, is Paradise alone:

Without the pleasure of thy sight is none.

I fear small progress will be made this day;

so much our kisses will our task delay. (3.1.88-91)

Their lovemaking is obviously interfering with their duties as keepers of the Garden.

Dryden has transformed Eve’s character, temporarily, from coquette to faithful wife. The

only interruption to her duty to God is her duty to her husband, particularly that of

lovemaking, coinciding with the Anglican belief that “[i]t is instituted of God to the

intent that man and woman should live lawfully in a perpetual friendly fellowship, to

bring forth fruit, and to avoid fornication” (Homily of Matrimony

285).

But her duty to Adam does not bring complete satisfaction to Eve. She has given

up sovereignty. She has given up power. Adam has become, as she says after the fall,

“too much [her] Lord” (5.1.8). Paradise is quickly becoming problematic. Lust for power

breeds jealousy of those who possess it.

Eve’s jealousy is aroused even more by the dream that Lucifer instills in her.

Evidence of this can be seen in both her pleading to Adam for permission to walk alone

in the Garden and the location to which she immediately proceeds:

Eve. Thus far, at least, with leave; nor can it be

A sin to look on this Celestial tree:

I would not more; to touch a crime may prove:

[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ]

But Heav’n forbids: I could be satisfy’d

Were every tree but this, but this deny’d. (4.2.18-20, 24-25)

Remembering her vision in which she tastes the fruit and flies up to heaven (3.3), she is

jealous of her dream self and wishes to do so in reality. She desires to be a goddess or an

angel like the ones in her dream, but Lucifer has another enticement for her jealousy.

Whereas in Milton’s version, Eve is led to the tree by the talking serpent who tells her

that he has already eaten of it (PL 9.590-645), Dryden has her see the “[s]trange sight” of

the serpent climbing up the tree to eat the fruit (4.2.26). From the moment she sees the

serpent taste of the fruit, her jealousy is intensified, and she laments that the “[privilege],

which [. . .] their Masters want,” is granted to “inferiour beings” (4.2.27-28). Thus, the

stage is set for Lucifer to appear in human form, a shape that, ironically, allows for the

suggestion of Eve’s own infidelity:

Eve. What art thou, or from whence? for on this ground,

Beside my Lord’s, ne’re heard I humane sound.

Art thou some other Adam, form’d from Earth,

In this fair field? or sprung of Heav’nly race? (4.2.44-47)

While Dryden is taking a great risk in calling Lucifer another Adam, a phrase that

is reserved for Christ alone (1 Cor. 15:45), and his use of it lends credence to the concern

of the King’s Players that “someone would accuse Dryden of heretical language or take

offense” to the play in general (Winn 269), his use of the phrase transforms Lucifer into a

possible object of Eve’s sexual desire, notwithstanding her previous position as the

jealous wife. Eventually, it is upon Eve’s jealousy that Lucifer plays. After hearing he has

eaten of the fruit, she responds with “Happy thy lot; but far unlike is mine” (4.2.72), to

which he answers, “Sure you mistake the precept” (4.2.76), insinuating that her

knowledge of what God has ordained is incomplete or misinformed. But the final stroke

of his argument resounds in a response to Eve’s ultimate defense that

[. . .] death, our disobedience must pursue.

Lucifer. Behold in me, what shall arrive to you.

I tasted; yet I live: nay, more; have got

A state more perfect than my native lot. (4.2.113-116)

Again Dryden stays close to the source, for we hear Milton’s Satan argue:

Queen of this universe, do not believe

Those rigid threats of death; ye shall not die:

How should ye? By the fruit? It gives you life

To knowledge. By the Threat’ner? Look on me,

Me who have touched and tasted, yet both live,

And life more perfect have attained than fate

Meant me, by vent’ring higher than my lot. (PL 9.684-690)

But we must remember that in Milton’s epic Eve is in a conversation with Satan in the

form of a serpent, whereas in Dryden’s play Lucifer shows himself as a serpent

transformed into “some other Adam” (4.2.46), an image that adds a sexual temptation to

the scene missing in Milton. In Dryden’s version Lucifer continues to taunt her with the

intimation that she will as “God-head reign” (4.2.123). This goes beyond the biblical

story, in which the serpent promises that they will be “as gods” (Gen 3.5) with no

insinuation that either she or Adam will rule in heaven. Tempted to become a usurper

who may reign in heaven, she desires to “remove” the difference between herself and the

“Gods” and brings upon herself the Fall by deciding to partake of the fruit (4.2.121, 120,

137).

Eve, like her counterpart in the dream sequence, only “repent[s] / [she] deferred”

tasting the fruit earlier (3.3.38-39). Her decision to do so is motivated by her lust for

power over Adam, the Angels, and eventually God, along with her jealousy of Adam’s

sovereignty over her, and of the serpent’s ability to eat the fruit unscathed. While these

motivations drive her toward the Fall, ultimately her decision is an act of free will, a point

which she argues with Adam prior to her walk in the garden.

Knowing that her walk ends at the tree of knowledge, which she has dreamed of

in the previous scene, we realize that her jealousy and lust for power are behind the

excuses to leave Adam. She tells him that “Nature’s too kind, and follows us too fast”

(4.1.130) and that nature “mocks our industry with her excess” (4.1.132). Once again

Dryden is staying close to the original in which Milton’s Eve complains that “til more

hands / Aid us, the work under our labor grows” (PL 9.207-208), but Milton’s Eve never

says that she would be “absent still” if “constrained, and wish’d [her] self away”

(4.1.182, 184), rather the sentiments expressed in Eve’s comments are stated by Adam in

Milton’s version:

Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more,

Go in thy native innocence, rely

On what thou hast of virtue, summon all,

For God, towards thee hath done his part, do thine. (PL 9.372-375)

Dryden, ever thoughtful of the necessities of the stage, transforms Milton’s long

discourse between Adam and Eve into a short bickering argument culminating in her

protestation that as a creature endowed with free will she should be treated as such by

Adam. First, she tries to reason with her husband by asking “[w]hat reason makes [her]

small request unfit” (4.1.150) and ends her argument with the protestation that she can

only prove her “faith” if it is tested (4.1.179). Adam finally gives in and responds with

the theological statement of free will that “[c]onstraint does ill” and tells her to “[g]o”

(4.1.185, 189).

Eve, in the end, blames Adam for letting her go. Denying her own guilt, she

blames everything on him. In anger she tells him:

You should have shown th’ Authority you boast,

And, Soveraign-like, my headlong will have crost:

Counsel was not enough to sway my heart;

An absolute restraint had been your part. (5.4.33-36)

Adam’s response to her argument is that her “pride” and her lawless will” is the problem

(5.4.29-30), not his inability of confine her. He admits that in this case “force is lawful”

but his love for her is “fondly kind” (5.4.38). Eve’s position is that her will should have

been constrained by Adam. However, it is only after she finds herself in fear of the

consequences of her actions that she considers such a solution. Their argument reaches a

peak with an exchange about the nature of wives:

Eve. Th’ unhappiest of creation is a wife,

Made lowest, in the highest rank of life:

Her fellow’s slave; to know and not to chuse:

Curst with that reason she must never use.

Adam. Add, that she’s proud, fantastick, apt to change;

Restless at home; and ever prone to range,

With show delighted, and so vain is she,

She’ll meet the Devil [. . .] (5.4.58-65)

This scene once again shows Dryden’s ability to entertain both sides of an argument.

While Eve’s lines tend to show her sympathetically, Adam’s words present a critical

misogynistic view. Dryden’s ability to present a misogynistic attitude can also be seen in

the soliloquy of Lucifer as he plans his attack:

Lucifer. So, now they lye, secure in love, and steep

Their sated sences in full draughts of sleep.

By what sure means can I their bliss invade?

By violence? no; for they’re immortal made.

Their Reason sleeps; but Mimic fancy wakes,

Supplies her parts, and wild Idea’s takes

From words and things, ill-sorted, and mis-joyn’d;

The Anarchic of thought and Chaos of the mind:

Hence dreams confus’d and various may arise;

These will I set before the Woman’s eyes;

The weaker she, and made my easier prey;

Vain shows, and Pomp, the softer sex betray. ( 3.1-6,10-12)

An interesting part of this soliloquy is its similarity of language to Dryden’s attack on the

poet and dramatist Elkaniah Settle. Dryden speaks of Settle’s “Mimic fancy,” “wild

ideas,” “Anarchy,” and “Chaos,” and, in his condemnation for the type of audience

Settle’s performances attracted, Dryden sounds misogynistic (Winn 268). Winn notes that

the notion that women are more susceptible to “Vain shows, and Pomp”

also appears in the Postscript to the Notes and Observations, where

Dryden speaks dismissively of Settle’s “admirers who most commonly are

Women.” He was not alone in such misogyny; the very poem he was

adapting includes some exceedingly harsh remarks about women. (Winn

268)

Whether or not Dryden was a misogynist remains an item of debate amongst critics, but

he certainly is not a feminist in the modern sense. He and Milton were male members of a

patriarchal seventeenth century society and, therefore, would naturally have misogynistic

tendencies stemming from their cultural backgrounds. It is interesting that Dryden uses

Lucifer as the vehicle for this critical soliloquy, a point that perhaps weakens the

misogyny of it. For Dryden is not only critical of Eve, he is sympathetic as well.

His sympathetic view of Eve can be seen at the beginning in the pool scene.

Although Eve has a narcissistic nature, she has a strong desire to be loved, not just by

herself but by someone outside of herself. She wants the image in the pool to love her,

and is convinced her dream has come true when she first meets Adam. Her love for him

compels her to say while considering giving him the fruit, “I love the wretch” (5.1.7), and

it is her love for him that brings the argument in Act V to a point of reconciliation.

Therefore, when Adam proposes that she see his “face no more” (5.4.89), she responds,

Vain pardon, which includes a greater ill:

Be still displeas’d; but let me see you still.

Without your much-lov’d sight, I cannot live:

You more than kill me if you so forgive. (5.4.90-93)

Love reconciles her to Adam, and, in the remainder of the scene, we find that love

reconciles the couple to God. However, a paradox remains. We must question the

responsibility, and deservedness of punishment, of the first parents who find they are

living within the control of an all-knowing and all-powerful God who foreknows every

event that transpires. While Eve never seems to ponder the paradox, her actions

demonstrate the effect of it.

Her actions also demonstrate her “sexual power,” a quality that, as Clarissa

Campbell Orr remarks, at the time “was feared for the way it could subvert hierarchies of

gender and social rank” (qtd. in Schille 3). With her power, Eve has attempted to usurp

the throne of the household, a sin described in the Anglican and Puritan pulpits as

“repugnant” (Homily of Matrimony

286). She has forgotten, as the sermon continues to

explain, that she must be “ready at hand” to perform “her husband’s commandment”

(286). The throne after all, according to the social and theological thought of the time,

belongs rightfully to her husband, a creature who finds himself even more entangled in

the paradox of free will versus preordination than she, who questions this paradox openly

with visiting angels, and who, in the end, must be admonished for the implied blasphemy

contained in his consternation over God’s plan. Of course, we are speaking of Adam

who, through his own free willed actions, finds himself destined to join in Eve’s sin.

CHAPTER 4

ADAM: A QUESTION OF THEOLOGY

While Eve, immersed in her coquettish narcissism, provided Dryden with an

excellent vehicle to present his social view of women, particularly of those with whom he

had familiarity both at court and on the stage, and Lucifer, as both a divine creature and a

fallen villain, presented the playwright with an irresistible personification of the political

controversies lingering from the Interregnum, so Adam, as the first man, bestowed upon

our poet the opportunity to present one of the major philosophical and theological debates

of the era to an audience for whom the dialogue would have held intense interest. Once

again, Dryden’s duality emerges as he purposely portrays Adam as espousing both sides

of the discussion at different points in the play, thereby drawing the audience to accept, at

various times, each of the opposing arguments’ conclusions. Indeed, Dryden, who loved

to play with ideas, appears to be having a great deal of fun with the thoughts engrossing

Adam, both in soliloquy and in dialogue with other characters, and in the author’s own

unique ability to bait his audience into participating in the argument.

The argument in question hinged around the theories of the philosopher Thomas

Hobbes, whom Charles II dubbed as “the beare to be bayted” (qtd. in Bredvold 55), due

to the numerous disagreements in which Hobbes found himself engaged with various

members of the royal court. Hobbes’ argument defended his belief in a “mechanical and

materialistic philosophy” that opposed the generally accepted “spiritualistic philosophy”

and “idealism” of Descartes (Bredvold 54). Deriving his “mechanical theory” from

Euclid and Galileo, Hobbes proceeds to apply it “both to the world and man” (53). As

Louis Bredvold notes, according to Hobbes

Science is the study of causes, but all causes are ultimately reducible to

motion. A complete science should begin with a study of simple motions,

then proceed to more complex motions in geometry, thence to physics,

until we reach the most complex motions in “moral philosophy, in which

we are to consider the motions of the mind . . . what causes they have, and

of what they be causes.” (53)

Hobbes’s theory finds its completion in his insistence that the “soul is material, a sort of

thin, filmy substance, which could thus be assumed to be a part of the mechanical world.”

He ridiculed as meaningless the customary theological definition of the soul as an

incorporeal substance, while maintaining a faith in God and the angels, though suggesting

that “the Scripture favoureth them more, that hold angels and spirits corporeal.” But it is

his application of causative theory to the human mind that led to his long running

controversy with Bishop John Bramhall over “free-will and necessitarianism” (53-55). In

fact, the scene in which Adam argues with Raphael and Gabriel over the paradox of free

will “runs like a brief summary of the famous Bramhall-Hobbes controversy, with Adam,

despite his innocence, taking the part of Hobbes” (68).

Dryden, when introducing Adam at the beginning of Act II, portrays him as a

Cartesian, rather than Hobbesian, character who infers “the existence of his Maker from

his own capacity to think” (Winn 266):

Adam. What am I? or from whence? For that I am

I know, because I think; but whence I came,

Or how this Frame of mine began to be,

What other Being can disclose to me?

I move, I see; I speak, discourse, and know,

Though now I am, I was not always so.

Then that from which I was, must be before:

Whom, as my Spring of Being, I adore. (2.1.1-8)

Thus, Adam proves to be a complex creature that begins his life quoting Descartes but

endorses the Hobbesian argument when discussing free will with the angels. Then, later

in the play, in spite of his arguments against free will, Adam defends it as part of his

explanation for his treatment of Eve, but, in the end, he succumbs to the Fall through his

complete love for her.

However, it is when the angels come down to instruct Adam about free will and

preordination that Dryden breaks from Milton. Although Milton does have Raphael come

to instruct Adam about free will, Dearing points out that “the points made by Adam [in

The State of Innocence

] and the phrasing of the whole discourse are Dryden’s” (370).

Milton’s Adam is instructed by the angel that God has “ordained thy will / By nature

free” and that it is “voluntary service [God] requires” (PL 5.526-527, 529). To this

discourse, Adam responds most amicably:

[. . .] Thy words

Attentive, and with more delighted ear,

Divine instructor, I have heard, than when

Cherubic songs by night from neighboring hills

Aerial music send: nor knew I not

To be both will and deed created free;

Yet that we never shall forget to love

Our Maker [. . . .] (PL 5.544-551)

Hence, Milton’s Adam understands free will and accepts the angel’s instructions as being

better than the songs of the cherubs that he hears at night. Created with a free will, he

does not forget to love and worship his maker.

But Dryden’s Adam takes a more skeptical position upon hearing the angels’

instructive statements. While the points made by the two heavenly messengers are made

by God in Paradise Lost

(PL 3.95-130), we see a different dynamic in play within

Dryden’s portrayal of the conversation. Indeed Adam is quite the reluctant pupil:

Raphael. Praise him alone who, God-like, form’d thee free,

With will unbounded, as a Deity;

Who gave thee reason, as thy Aid, to chuse

Apparent good, and evil to refuse.

Obedience is that good; This Heav’n exacts

And Heav’n, all just, from man requires not acts

Which man wants pow’r to do: pow’r then is giv’n

Of doing good; but not compell’d by Heav’n.

[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .]

Adam. Freedome of will, of all good things is best;

But can it be by finite man possest?

I know not how Heav’n can communicate

What equals man to his Creators state. (4.1.23-30, 33-36)

So Adam’s first objection is that if he is like a Deity and created with a free will, he can’t

understand how God can give man something that would make him equal to the

Almighty. Free will is certainly the best of all things, but Adam sees it as impossible for

his finite station in life. Man, as part of the Hobbesian material universe, is unable to

ascend to the level of God and the angels. It would certainly take the knowledge of good

and evil to reach that point, as Hobbes in his treatise Of Liberty and Necessity

enunciates:

First, I conceive that when it comes into a man’s mind to do or not to do

some certain action, if he have no time to deliberate, the doing it or

abstaining necessarily follows the present thought he has of the good or

evil consequence thereof to himself [. . . .] Also when a man has time to

deliberate but deliberates not, because never anything appeared that could

make him doubt of the consequence, the action follows his opinion of the

goodness or harm of it. (36-37)

However, the angels are not finished with their instruction; likewise, Adam still has his

objections. Answering Adam’s question Raphael says that God “cannot give his

boundless pow’r away; / But boundless libertie of choice he may” (4.1.37-38). Using the

Ptolemaic system of the universe as a metaphor, Raphael explains that, although all the

heavenly bodies receive their motion from God, “the first mover” (4.1.39), the “[o]rbs”

themselves are responsible for continuing their own “proper revolutions” (4.1.39,40).

While the Heavenly Father has put Adam’s life in motion, the direction it takes is entirely

up to Adam. Having a free will, Adam is morally responsible for his own actions, or, as

Bramhall proclaims in his A Defence of True Liberty

, “[n]o object, no second agent,

angel or devil, can determine the will of man naturally, but God alone, in respect of his

supreme dominion over all things” ( 48), but even though God has supreme dominion,

humans are responsible for their actions as Bramhall once again maintains:

So Darius suffered Daniel to be cast into the lion’s den to make good his

rash decree; so Herod suffered John Baptist to be beheaded to make good

his rash oath. How much more may the immutable rule of justice in God,

and his fidelity in keeping his word, draw from him the punishment of

obstinate sinners, though antecedently he wills their conversion? (49)

Though God gives Man the choice to sin, he reserves the necessary right to punish said

sin. If God does not have the boundless power required to both place things in order and

to inflict punishment upon sinners, then there is no true choice and no chance for justice.

Not accepting the answer from Raphael, Adam continues to argue, this time about

preordination:

Adam. Grant Heav’n could once have given us liberty;

Are we not bounded, now, by firm decree,

Since what so er’e is preordain’d, must be?

Else Heav’n, for man, events might preordain,

And man’s free will might make those orders vain. (4.1.41-45)

Adam is getting to the heart of the paradox. He asks if it is possible that man’s free will

can usurp God’s will. Man, being a finite material being of little significance compared to

the greatness of God, cannot, in Adam’s mind, have the power to nullify the plans set

forth by Heaven. If free will exists, then it cancels out preordination by the pure fact that

choice changes the direction of man’s life. If man himself can change the direction of

man’s life, then there can be no divine plan for his life.

Gabriel steps in at this point with even more seventeenth century scientific

imagery that reverberates with intonations of the physics of the time. His argument places

man in a unique status, as he says,

Gabriel. Th’ Eternal, when he did the world create,

All other agents did necessitate:

So, what he order’d, they by nature do;

Thus light things mount, and heavy downward go.

Man only boasts an arbitrary state. (4.1.46-50)

In nature, man alone is endowed with the gift of free will. Uniquely, he remains free to

move arbitrarily through life, and the forces of natural laws do not drive his destiny.

While light objects rise up and heavy ones move downward by the physical laws known

at the time, man is a creature whose activities are truly free. Gabriel’s response reminds

us of Bramhall’s response to Hobbes that

[. . .] if either the decree of God or the foreknowledge of God or the

influence of the stars or the concatenation of causes or the physical or

moral efficacy of objects or the last dictate of the understanding do take

away true liberty, then Adam before his fall had no true liberty For he was

subjected to the same decrees, the same prescience, the same

constellations, the same causes, the same objects, the same dictates of the

understanding. But quicquid ostendes mihi sic, incredulus odi [Whatever

you show me so, I disbelieve and hate]. The greatest opposers of our

liberty are as earnest maintainers of the liberty of Adam. Therefore none

of these supposed impediments take away true liberty. (3-4)

However, Adam continues to put forward his Hobbesian opposition:

Adam. Yet causes their effects necessitate

In willing agents: where is freedom then?

Or who can break the chain which limits men

To act what is unchangeably forecast,

Since the first cause gives motion to the last? (4.1.51-55)

This reflects Hobbes’ thoughts that “nothing takes beginning from itself, but from the

action of some other immediate agent without itself” and “that there is no such thing as

freedom from necessity” (38, 41). Even though Adam is a willing agent, or a person with

a free will, his choices are all necessitated by previous events. One instance resolves in

incidents creating an unbroken chain whose result is preordained by the original cause.

The argument continues to evolve as Adam refuses to let the angels berate him into

submission. The next section begins with Raphael:

Raphael. Heav’n by fore-knowing what will surely be,

Does only, first, effects in causes see;

And finds, but does not make necessity.

Creation, is of pow’r and will th’ effect,

Foreknowledge only of his Intellect;

His prescience makes not, but supposes things;

Infers necessity to be; not brings.

Thus thou art not constrain’d to do good or ill;

Causes which work th’ effect, force not the will. (4.1.56-64)

This coincides with Bramhall’s assertion that:

[. . .] if there be no true liberty, but all things come to pass by inevitable

necessity, then what are all those interrogations and objurgations and

reprehensions and expostulations which we find so frequently in holy

Scriptures (be it spoken with all due respect) but feigned and hypocritical

exaggerations? ‘Hast thou eaten of the tree, whereof I commanded that

thou shouldst not eat?’ And he said to Eve, ‘Why hast thou done this?’

[. . .] Does God command him openly not to eat, and yet secretly by

himself or by the second causes necessitate him to eat? (3)

According to Dryden’s Gabriel and Bramhall, God’s foreknowledge does not remove the

fault of doing “ill” nor does it “force the will” into doing “good.” Necessity is

“infer[red]” but not created as an ultimate cause for Adam’s actions. However, Adam

espouses a contrary idea to Gabriel’s orthodox view:

Adam. The force unseen, and distant I confess;

But the long chain makes not the bondage less.

Ev’n Man himself may to himself seem free,

And think that choice which is necessity. (4.1.65-68)

This is to agree with Hobbes “that a man cannot imagine anything to begin without a

cause” (39), a point on which he proceeds to elaborate with the question:

Did not God foreknow that Uriah in particular should be murdered by

David in particular? And what God foreknows shall come to pass, can that

possibly not come to pass? And that which cannot possibly not come to

pass, does not that necessarily come to pass? And is not all necessity from

God? (75)

If all necessity comes from God then all events, foreknown or not, remain preordained

due to necessity; therefore, man’s choice is not freedom but merely a reaction to

previously preordained events. Even when the causes are of the distant past, man has no

true free will to exercise beyond the necessities those causes create. Hence, according to

Adam “the long chain makes not the bondage less” and “choice” is but “necessity,”

agreeing with Hobbes that “all necessity comes from God.”

Gabriel steps in at this point asking, “And who but man should judge of man’s

free state?” (4.1.69) Dryden derives this line from the Apostle Paul, who tells us that no

one “knows the things of man, save the spirit of man which is in him,” but Paul says what

Gabriel leaves unsaid, that “even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of

God” (1 Cor. 2.11). Adam, according to Gabriel, is treading on dangerous ground by

trying to know God’s spirit.

Adam remains undaunted and continues with the same Hobbesian argument that

“choice is but consent; not will” and that God “before that choice, my will confin’d”

(4.1.72,74), a statement that begins to irritate Gabriel because of the “impious fancies”

contained within it, implying that “Heav’n all pure, thy [Adam’s] crimes [. . .] preordain

(4.1.75-76).

Adam, seeing the danger of angering the angels, replies, “Far, far from me be

bansh’d such a thought: / I argue only to be better taught” (4.1.77-78), a statement that, as

Adam attempts to calm the situation, alludes to a historical circumstance. In Dearing’s

note on these lines, he tells us that Queen Catherine Parr, when finding herself in danger

of angering Henry VIII with her own theological arguments, replied with lines similar to

Adam’s:

[. . . .] “when I have uttered and said what I can, yet must I, and will I,

refer my judgment in this, and in all other cases, to your majesty’s

wisdom.” When the king expressed disbelief, she replied to this effect:

“whereas I have, with your majesty’s leave, heretofore been bold to talk

with your majesty, wherein sometimes in opinions there hath seemed

some difference, I have not done it so much to maintain opinion, as I did it

rather to minister talk [. . .] but also that I, hearing your majesty’s learned

discourse, might receive to myself some profit thereby.” The king then

embraced her and kissed her [. . . .] (371)

But, unlike Catherine, Adam has not finished with his argument, for soon he moves from

logic to ethics:

Adam. Though no constraint from Heav’n, or causes, be;

Heav’n may prevent that ill he does foresee:

And, not preventing, though he does not cause,

He seems to will that man should break his laws. (4.1.97-100)

Now we see Adam’s true perplexity with free will; he asks that if God can stop “that ill

he does foresee” is not God “will[ing] that man should break his laws.” This puts forward

the supposition that the Almighty himself is guilty of all sin and man is a mere pawn

subject to the Lord’s boundless power. Gabriel’s answer gives Adam very little grounds

for finding any redemption: “Heav’n may permit, but not to ill consent; / For hind’ring

ill, he would all choice prevent. / ‘Twere to unmake, to take away thy will,” to which

Adam retorts: “Better constrain’d to good, than free to ill” (4.1.101-104).

Raphael, considering that the argument has traversed too far for both angels and

mortals alike, puts an end to the discussion by stating,

Raphael. But what reward or punishment could be

If man to neither good nor ill were free?

Th’ Eternal justice could decree no pain

To him whose sins it self did first ordain;

And good compell’d, could no reward exact:

His pow’r would shine in goodness, not thy act.

Our task is done: obey; and, in that choice,

Thou shalt be blest, and Angels shall rejoyce. (4.1.105-112)

Raphael’s statement “ends the debate with the worst of all arguments,” that God created

“free will in order to have somebody to punish or reward” (Martz 189). Understandably,

Adam is not satisfied as he soliloquizes after the angels ascend “Hard state of life! since

Heav’n fore-knows my will, / Why am I not ty’d up from doing ill?” (4.1.113-114). His

speech concludes with a lament about his inability to fight temptation:

Since Angels fell, whose strength was more than mine,

‘Twould show more grace my frailty to confine.

Fore-knowing the success, to leave me free,

Excuses him, and yet supports not me. (4.1.117-120)

If Dryden’s Adam truly considers free will such a curse, he becomes quite the hypocrite

with his treatment of Eve. Later in the same scene, Eve, being concerned with the amount

of gardening work ahead of them for the day, asks that “[t]his day let each a several task

pursue” (4.1.136), thereby allowing her the freedom to work away from him so the

temptation of lovemaking will not interfere, as she explains: “By thee, my hands to labor

will not move, / But round thy neck, employ themselves in love” (4.1.137-138). Adam

gives warning against her leaving since “[t]he fallen Archangel, envious of [their] state, /

Pursues [their] Beings with immortal hate” (4.1.151-152), ending his argument with the

seemingly misogynistic, yet loving, statement: “Call it my care, and not mistrust of thee: /

Yet thou art weak, and full of Art is he” (4.161.162). However, at the end of the argument

he succumbs to her with his own version of endowing free will: “I would p[er]suade: but

not be absolute. / Better be much remiss than too severe” (4.1.186-187).

When his failure to be the absolute ruler over his wife leads to the Fall, Adam

reverts to the sanctity of free will as the first couple’s remorseful bickering reveals:

Adam. I counsel’d you to stay; your pride refus’d:

By your own lawless will you stand accus’d.

Eve. Have you that priviledge of only wise,

And would you yield to her you so despise?

You should have shown th’ Authority you boast,

And, Soveraign-like, my headlong will have crost:

Counsel was not enough to sway my heart;

An absolute restraint had been your part.

Adam. Ev’n such returns do they deserve to find,

When force is lawful, who are fondly kind. (5.4.29-38)

This argument sounds eerily like the one between Adam and the angels, except Adam has

taken the opposite position. He now endorses free will as an excuse for his inability to

exert his lawful authority over Eve. She takes the position that Adam takes with the

angels as a device to express her regret of his lack of constraint over her, thereby failing

to prevent her sin. She claims that her “headlong will” should be “crost” by his

“[a]uthority.” She tells Adam that “absolute restraint” over her actions is his

responsibility to prevent her from bringing on the Fall.

However, Adam operates not under a mandate of authority but under a mandate of

love. It is love that has brought the pair to the brink of disaster. God’s love for man

allows free will, Adam’s love for Eve allows sin to enter the world. Adam only partakes

of the fruit because he loves Eve, as he tells her at the point of tasting the fruit:

Adam. Cheat not your self, with dreams of Deity;

Too well, but yet too late, your crime I see:

Nor think the fruit your knowledge does improve;

But you have beauty still, and I have love.

Not cozen’d, I, with choice, my life resign:

Imprudence was your fault, but love mine. (5.1.65-70)

Dryden climaxes the story with the passion of a love scene. Adam cares not for his own

immortality if it means immortality without the love of Eve, so he willingly enters into

the world of mortality with her because he freely chooses, through his love for Eve, to

join her in death, a death he supposes to be immediate. Adam has no “dreams of Deity”

or “knowledge” but only a love for Eve who, for him, has “beauty still.”

In The State of Innocence

we discover Dryden’s exquisite ability to take a

character like Adam and transform him into a vehicle that portrays on stage a complex

philosophical argument, one that had created many heated discussions at court. Adam,

like Dryden himself, is neither a confirmed disciple of Hobbesian philosophy nor an

apologist of Christian orthodoxy. Instead, both poet and stage character traverse across

the grand spectrum between the two poles. While arguing with the angels, Adam insists

that there is no possibility for him to exert any action truly founded in free will upon any

situation, but when confronted with Eve’s argument that he has failed to provide the

necessary authority over her actions, he relies on free will as an excuse. We are left, like

Adam, with an unsatisfactory solution to the issue. The question remains as to whether or

not the characters are able to choose their own direction in life but, rather, are acting as

mere pawns in a grand design beyond their control, a question as pertinent today as it was

in Dryden’s time.

But there is another question we are left with concerning this play: where does

Dryden truly stands in his personal Christian belief? At the time of the play, Dryden was

still Anglican although he sprang from a devoutly Puritan household. As an Anglican

poet of an Anglican court, he dedicates this adaptation of a Puritan epic to a Catholic

Duchess, quite possibly, as Winn states, “to emphasize Christian unity” (269). However,

it is just as possible this play presents a picture of Dryden’s own intellectual journey

through life. Like Adam, Dryden appears to traverse a broad spectrum that leads him

from Puritan to Anglican and eventually to his final conversion to Catholicism. His

intellectual temperament creates in him a philosophical skepticism over Anglican thought

that eventually will lead to his own Catholic conversion.

CHAPTER 5

AN INTELLECTUAL JOURNEY: A CONCLUSION

Dryden’s theological thought at the time of this play is difficult to pinpoint.

Although an Anglican poet, he would soon be influenced by the Catholic writer Father

Richard Simon, who wrote The Critical History of The Old Testament

, a work that would

have a profound effect on the theological debate between Protestantism and Catholicism

at the time. But even before Dryden fell under the influence of Simon’s work, he was

certainly aware of many of the other Catholic apologists of the time. Certainly some of

the issues put forward by these apologists can be found in much of Dryden’s work. His

love of ideas and the interplay of political and theological discourse would lead Dryden

to become influenced by many other writers both Catholic and Protestant, but his

eventual conversion to Catholicism points to an affinity with the ideas put forward by the

Catholic apologists, especially concerning reason in religion.

The Catholic apologists attacked human reason primarily as being a part of the

fallible human intellect and therefore incapable of attaining a true understanding of God

and religion. While the Protestants proclaimed the use of natural reason as the only way

to dispute or determine things disputed, the Catholics maintained the authority of an

infallible church, this authority Dryden eventually confessed to himself that the Anglican

Church had renounced, leading to his conversion to Catholicism (Bredvold 81,128).

In addition to Simon’s assertion that the Old Testament Scripture is unreliable,

therefore making it impossible for the individual to interpret sufficiently (Bredvold 100),

the apologists also maintained a fideistic philosophy that only revealed religion could

bring man to true understanding, and, due to the unreliability of Scripture, this revealed

religion could only be embraced through the authority of the Church. Taking the

argument even further the Catholics promoted a philosophical skepticism that proclaimed

that there “was no certain proof of the Christian religion, unless [taken] from the

authority of the church as infallible” (Gilbert Burnet qtd. in Bredvold 85). This led to the

Anglican belief that anyone, like Dryden, who portrayed such philosophical skepticism,

was either Catholic or atheist (Bredvold 86), an accusation Dryden defends against in his

preface to Tyrannic Love

This, Reader, is what I owed to my just defence, and the due reverence of

that Religion which I profess, to which all men, who desire to be esteemed

good, or honest, are obliged [. . . .] I am already justified by the sentence

of the best and most discerning Prince in the World [. . .], and above all,

by the witness of my own Conscience, which abhors the thought of such a

Crime [. . .], which shall never be justly taxed with the Note of Atheism or

Profaneness. (110-111)

However, as we learn from Bredvold, “[a] dozen years later Thomas Hunt accused him of

atheism and impiety on the basis of a speech in The Duke of Guise

(108), and some

critics still accuse him, not of atheism, but of Deism, a point he refutes in Religio Laici

with an argument built from his own skeptical thought – that he finds it impossible that

the reason of man without divine illumination is able to attain the tenets of Deism

(Bredvold 109). In the poem he states,

Dim as the borrow’d beams of moon and stars

To lonely, weary, wand’ring travelllers

Is reason to the soul; and as on high,

Those rolling fires discover but the sky,

Not light us here, so reason’s glimmering ray

Was lent not to assure our doubtful way

But guide us upward to a better day.

And as those nightly tapers disappear

When day’s bright lord ascends our hemisphere,

So pale grows reason at religion’s sight,

So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. (1-11)

These verses sound very close to the ideas propagated by the Catholic apologists that

reason alone is insufficient for religious thought. While the doctrine found in Religio

Laici remains “wholly Anglican” (Miner 262), and the poem goes on to attack Catholic

and Protestant extremists alike, much of what Dryden says about reason within it sounds

akin to his Catholic polemic The Hind and the Panther

Can I believe eternal God could lye

Disguis’d in mortal mold and infancy?

That the great Maker of the world could dye?

And after that, trust my imperfect sense

Which calls in question his omnipotence?

Can I my reason to my faith compel,

And shall my sight, and touch, and taste rebel? (80-86)

Dryden’s argument in favor of transubstantiation expands into an assertion that fallible

reason could force man to rebel against God, due to man’s own “imperfect sense.” As

Bredvold states,

[The Hind and the Panther] is imbued with the same anti-rationalism as

the earlier [Religio Laici]

; though Dryden had changed his church

allegiance, he had not changed his fundamental philosophical convictions.

His criticism of Protestant principles in 1687 is only a more extended

application of his animadversions against Deism in 1682. (125)

We can see evidence of these same fundamental convictions in The State of Innocence

with its use of reason as the ultimate human frailty that diverts man’s obedience to God

toward a questioning of the existence of free will that leads, first to heresy, then to

rebellion, as shown in the actions of the three main characters.

Lucifer begins the discourse with his description of mankind as being “indu’d

with Reason lodg’d in Sence” (1.1.147), and it will eventually be through man’s

reasoning that the Fall will be accomplished. Although Raphael praises Adam with “Well

hast thou reason’d; of himself is none / But that Eternal Infinite, and One” (2.1.15-16),

and continues with “Right Reason’s Law to every humane heart / Th’ Eternal, as his

Image, will impart” (2.1.29-30), it is Adam’s reasoning power that fortifies his argument

with the angels over the doctrine of free will. Adam reasons that if an omniscient God

foreknows all possible events, then there is no true free will, a point made eloquently but

very briefly by the description of the demons’ conversations in Milton’s epic:

Others apart sat on a hill retired,

In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high

Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate,

Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute,

And found no end, in wand’ring mazes lost. (PL 2.557-561)

For Dryden however, it is Adam, not the demons, who, with human reasoning,

approaches heresy in his conversation with Gabriel and Raphael. Gabriel warns Adam

that “[i]lls from within, thy reason must prevent” (4.1.17-18), but Adam uses his

reasoning to argue that such ills are the result of a series of “causes” whose “long chain”

locks him in the “bondage” of being forced to break God’s laws (4.1.89,66). Ultimately,

reasoning is unable to resolve the paradox. Mankind is forced to live throughout history

in a maze of choices, all of which are foreknown by the Creator. Foreknowledge implies

preordination and preordination cancels out free will.

However, Gabriel and Raphael insist on a belief in an omnipotent God whose

foreknowledge does not cancel out free will. Their final solution is simply “obey”

(4.1.111). God is infallible; Adam is not. The angels are, as Adam should be, “[m]ade for

his use” (3.3.75). Unlike Milton’s demons, the angels do not question God’s ability to

preordain events, but “serve him freely” (3.3.77). In their discourse with Lucifer, they

explain to him that it is “by choice” that he has reached his fallen state (3.3.78). By

allowing reason rather than obedience to an infallible authority to rule over God’s gift of

free will, Lucifer has chosen the path to destruction, a path that Adam and Eve follow as

well.

Dryden eventually found his own infallible authority in the Mother Church of

Rome. Having been associated with recusants since his marriage to Elizabeth Howard

(who in all probability was a Catholic and just as likely raised Dryden’s sons in the faith),

his conversion to Catholicism was not a mere convenience due to the ascension of James

II as some critics (discussed in Bredvold 160) have claimed, but, rather, a response the

“human realities” of the complexities of living in close proximity to relatives who were

forced to hide their personal religious convictions from the Protestant world (Winn 124).

His characters’ failings revolve around the rejection of an infallible authority in favor of

their own fallible reason. Lucifer argues with Eve that, even if God is her creator, it is

doubtful that he “was first” (4.2.110), hence invoking the ever paradoxical question about

the creation of God himself. Adam, as we have seen, comes near to heresy with his

questioning of the paradox inherent within the argument of free will versus preordination,

and finally Eve, with her insistence on walking freely in the garden against his will,

violates the authority of the husband as ruler over the home (4.1.135ff). As suitable to a

dramatist, Dryden entertains several such positions without unilaterally endorsing any

one. This play is, like all of Dryden’s works, a view into the mind of the poet.

Theologically it refuses to be categorized as Puritan, Anglican, or Catholic. It is,

ultimately, pure Dryden, complex and perplexing.

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APPENDIX A

SYNOPSIS OF STATE OF INNOCENCE

Act 1, Scene 1

: Amidst a backdrop of chaos Lucifer and his rebellious angels fall

onto the stage. Lucifer calls them out of the lake of fire to dry land. The palace

pandemonium rises up from the stage, and the chief demons discuss their fate. They

determine to find the newly created creature Man in order to use him as a deceptive

attack on the Almighty. Lucifer determines to be the one to go to paradise to bring on the

fall.

Act 2, Scene 1

: The newly created Adam awakes quoting Descartes and

determines through his reason that there must be a creator. Raphael descends to instruct

him in the purpose of his creation and reveals to Adam that a mate is indeed planned for

him.

Act 2, Scene 2

: Lucifer arrives in a dark cloud that blots out the sun. Uriel arrives

from the sun in a chariot. Lucifer deceives Uriel into thinking he is a heavenly creature

who has come to gaze upon God’s new creature. Uriel points out to Lucifer the location

of Paradise, but, after Lucifer exits, he vows to observe Lucifer’s actions.

Act 2, Scene 3

: Adam awakes remembering a dream about his better half. Eve

enters and gazes into the fountain discovering her reflection for the first time. Adam

enters the scene, and, after some flirtatious bickering, the pair exit together.

Act 3, Scene 1

: Lucifer enters Paradise. Upon hearing Adam and Eve

approaching, he retires to spy on them. Adam and Eve enter and carry on a long

discussion about the pleasures of their lovemaking. Lucifer hears the discussion and

becomes jealous. Through the discussion between Adam and Eve, Lucifer first hears

about the tree of knowledge and the curse God has placed on it. The scene ends as

Lucifer determines to use the tree and its fruit as the vehicle to bring on the fall.

Act 3, Scene 2

: Gabriel and Ithuriel descend to the stage. They discuss their

mission to protect Paradise from any outside attack from the rebellious angels. Uriel flies

down from the sun. He tells Gabriel and Ithuriel of his encounter with Lucifer and of his

subsequent observation of Lucifer’s actions. He reveals to them that he has discovered

that Lucifer is not the heavenly creature he first claimed to be, but something quite

sinister. The three angels determine to seek the demon out and exit.

Act 3, Scene 3

: The scene opens with Adam and Eve asleep. Lucifer enters and

begins to whisper in Eve’s ear. Eve sees herself in a dream in which angels entice her to

eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. After the dream ends, Gabriel and Ithuriel enter

to find Lucifer who remains on stage. They attempt to interrogate Lucifer, who reacts

with contempt. The conversation evolves into a discussion about free will and servitude

to God. In the end the angels lead Lucifer out of Paradise, warning him never to return.

Act 4, Scene 1

: Adam and Eve enter discussing her dream. Raphael and Gabriel

descend to warn Adam that they discovered an enemy in the garden and that he should be

on guard. The conversation moves quickly into the issues of the Bramhall-Hobbes debate

on free will and necessitarianism with Adam taking the side of Hobbes. After the angels

leave, Adam tells Eve she must remain by his side because of the imminent danger. Eve

insists that she is strong enough to resist temptation and wishes to walk through the

garden alone. Adam relents, citing free will as his reason.

Act 4, Scene 2

: The scene opens at the location of the tree of life and the tree of

knowledge. Lucifer enters but soon retires when Eve approaches. Eve enters with the

desire to gaze upon the tree. A serpent enters, partakes of the fruit, and exits. Eve is

amazed at the sight. Lucifer enters in human form, claiming he was the serpent she saw

eating of the fruit. He convinces her that she will not die if she partakes of it but would

rather become god-like herself. Eve takes a bough from the tree and exits. Lucifer is

pleased with himself and exits soon after Eve.

Act 5, Scene 1

: Eve enters carrying the bough. Obviously, she has eaten of the

fruit, and can tell a difference in herself. She debates with herself whether to give the fruit

to Adam since he is already too much her lord. Adam enters and can tell a change in Eve.

Eve tells him about the encounter with the serpent and convinces him to eat of the fruit.

Adam agrees out of his love for her. They exit to make love one last time before their

deaths.

Act 5, Scene 2

: Lucifer enters alone, soliloquizes about the success of his plan. A

clap of thunder is heard and Lucifer sinks down into the stage.

Act 5, Scene 3

: Raphael and Gabriel descend. Being aware that the fall has

occurred they lament the fate of the human pair. Raphael exits to give the message of

judgment to Adam and Eve. Gabriel exits to stand guard over Paradise so man cannot

become eternal by eating of the tree of life.

Act 5, Scene 4

: Adam and Eve enter after a clap of thunder. They are frightened

and begin to discuss their fate. The conversation quickly becomes an argument between

the two with each blaming the other for their downfall. Adam says Eve was too prideful.

Eve says Adam was not forceful enough in convincing her not to walk alone. Adam

threatens to leave Eve wanting to see her no more. The conversation ends with Adam

claiming that he was really more at fault than Eve. Raphael enters to tell them of their

punishment. Indeed death has entered the world but it will not be immediate. Eve begins

to argue against the unfairness of having to obey laws they did not choose. Adam

reprimands her for arguing with the angel. Raphael then shows them a vision of the future

of humankind, including deaths of several sorts. Then he shows them a vision of Heaven

descending with the promise of immortality. The scene ends as Adam and Eve leave

Eden only to search for a Paradise within them.