Q1.

AA as a verse satire
Today, John Dryden’s reputation is chiefly as a satirist of the Restoration period. Held up as a model for
Jonathan Swift and especially Alexander Pope, he is usually studied as an esteemed precursor to the
‘Augustan mode’ of literature that flourished in the first half of the 18th century. In the late 17th
century, Dryden penned two of the most celebrated verse-satires of the period – Mac Flecknoe (written
in 1676–77) and Absalom and Achitophel (1681). Mac Flecknoe and Absalom and Achitophel were both
written while Dryden was Poet Laureate under King Charles II, and scholars have tended to whitewash
both of them – to read them in terms of the high moral rules and theory outlined in the (later) prose
work, Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire (1693). In this light, Dryden has been
depicted as a satirist committed to defending his righteous ideals about writing (Mac Flecknoe) and the
succession to the throne of James II (Absalom and Achitophel). But is this really who Dryden was as a
satirist – a respectable neoclassical author, keen to champion virtue and loyalty? Or are there other
impulses behind his work?

Dryden’s other masterpiece of verse-satire, the biblical allegory Absalom and Achitophel, does have an
obviously positive agenda. The poem – written as an indirect applicative satire, i.e. inviting the reader to
draw parallels between the purely biblical story and contemporary politics – has a very serious message
and a good deal more force. Dryden penned his greatest satire in the midst of the Exclusion Crisis (1679–
81), which was an attempt to exclude Charles II’s Catholic younger brother James from the throne of
England. Charles was officially without an heir – though he had sprinkled bastards across the land, and
his favourite nullius filius (illegitimate child) was the Protestant Duke of Monmouth. Those in favour of
excluding James (the Whigs) identified Monmouth as a more attractive inheritor of the throne. The king
himself saw his brother as his rightful successor (the Tory position). In Absalom and Achitophel, Dryden
writes as a pen for the Tory party. He champions the Stuart cause, condemning Monmouth (Absalom)
and especially the Earl of Shaftesbury (Achitophel), endorsing patriarchalism (the concept that the
monarchy held absolute power) over populism. Charles II (‘Godlike David’), in Dryden’s telling, has been
so merciful that rebels grow ambitious to undermine the present government and the right order of
things. The worst offender is ‘the false Achitophel’ (l. 150), who backs ‘the Peoples Cause, / Against the
Crown’ (ll. 206–07). In Dryden’s poem, the scheming Achitophel seduces Absalom, who knows better (ll.
317–19) but cannot withstand the temptation to try for the crown. Dryden satirises the leading Whigs as
untrustworthy rebels, debauched, unprincipled and unpatriotic.

Absalom and Achitophel is tonally restrained, calm and controlled, but it reflects considerable anxiety on
Dryden’s part. He is seriously and fiercely defending the present order, and he gravely warns the English
against destabilising this system: ‘What Prudent men a setled Throne woud shake?’ (l. 796). In the end,
Dryden fantasises that Charles will stand firm against his fractious subjects, punishing the rabble-rousing
Exclusionists and preserving sacred order. The final lines reflect Dryden’s hopeful vision: ‘The mighty
Years in long Procession ran: / Once more the Godlike David was Restor’d, / And willing Nations knew
their Lawfull Lord’ (ll. 1029–31). As in Mac Flecknoe, Dryden shows his talent for personal
attack. Absalom and Achitophel is a piece of very serious propaganda, more obviously ‘defensive’
than Mac Flecknoe, and its effectiveness depends upon prejudicial character sketches, ad hominem (to
the person) satire meant to damage the credibility of popular leaders.

The Medall (1682) also functions as Tory propaganda, but the satire is direct and unrestrained, the stuff
of diatribe rather than high allegory. Because of its relative lack of subtlety and its artistic indirection,
literary critics have had less to say about it. Reading The Medall alongside Absalom and Achitophel,
though, helps us appreciate the degree of Dryden’s hostility towards the Whigs in general (and
Shaftesbury in particular), and the intensity of the partisanship that inspired him.

Dryden’s satires during the reigns of James II and William III

Dryden’s masterpieces of the 1670s and early 1680s are much better known and more often studied
than the works he produced in the last decade of the 17th century, but those later works reveal quite
different satiric impulses and techniques.

Under James II (r. 1685–88), Dryden remained Poet Laureate and a favourite of the king. As in the
previous reign, he writes as a loyalist, an establishment man and a staunch defender of the status quo.
In 1685, upon the accession of a Catholic monarch, Dryden even converted to Catholicism – a move
which earned him considerable abuse from his enemies. What satire he produced in James’s brief
tenure reflects his sense of security and contentment. In the allegorical masque Albion and
Albanius (1685), he depicts the triumph of good (conservative Toryism, the Stuart monarchical line) over
evil. The Hind and the Panther (1687) is more combative, an attack on the Church of England and on
specific prominent Anglicans such as Edward Stillingfleet and Gilbert Burnet.

Of Dryden’s late-life works – he died in 1700 – only the Discourse concerning the Original and Progress
of Satire gets any significant attention from satire scholars. The Discourse, a critical and theoretical
work, has remarkably little to do with satire as Dryden and his contemporaries actually practiced it. It
reflects, primarily, its author’s desire to make what had become in England a disreputable form of
writing – often crude, vicious, ephemeral – into a creditable artistic mode. He defines satire in terms of a
classical tradition, a mode for moral reformation; true satire shows positives as well as negatives, virtue
as well as vice. Dryden dismisses personal satire or lampoonery as ‘dangerous... and for the most part
Unlawful’ (Works, 4:59) – a judgment that might seem surprising (or hypocritical) coming from the
author of Mac Flecknoe.

The Discourse has its own implied satiric targets, too; it is not just an exercise in satiric theory. Here
Dryden identifies himself with Juvenal, of whom he has this to say:

His was an Age that deserv’d a more severe Chastisement. Vices were more gross and open, more
flagitious, more encourag’d by the Example of a Tyrant; and more protected by his Authority. Therefore,
wheresover Juvenal mentions Nero, he means Domitian, whom he dares not attack in his own Person,
but Scourges him by Proxy. (4:69)

Nowhere does Dryden name William, but in praising Juvenal Dryden aligns himself with the wrathful
critic of tyranny – and as this passage suggests, he is encouraging readers to understand the difference
between who is named and who is meant. When ‘Juvenal mentions Nero, he means Domitian,’ and
when Dryden invokes classical usurpers and despots, he is showing his own late-life tendency to
‘Scourge... by Proxy.’

Dryden can be preachy and playful, forceful and subtle, vindictive and full of extravagant praise, vicious
and smutty and earnest, hopeful and darkly pessimistic. He was a master craftsman of tremendous
literary talent and ambition, and no doubt he was motivated by a desire to uphold the values that he
thought were under attack – but his satire is often uncompromisingly political and circumstantial, and
he could most certainly play dirty. He has often been held up as a – or the – dignified forebear of high-
principled, right-minded, moralizing ‘Augustan’ satire. The reality of his varied satirical works, however,
suggests that as a satirist Dryden was more complex, less consistent and more capable of spite and
partisan malice than he has usually been seen.

It would not serve any purpose to dwell upon the general morigeration of Dryden, who, in this as in
other respects, was “hurried down” the times in which he lived, to the leaders of politics and fashion, to
the king’s ministers, favourites and mistresses, or upon the flatteries which, in dedications and
elsewhere, he heaped upon the king himself, and upon his brother the duke. The attempts, however,
which have been made to show that his pen was “venal”—in any sense beyond that of his having been
paid for his compliments, or, at least, for a good many of them—may be said to have broken down; and
the fact that he may have received payment from the king for writing The Medal does not prove that he
was inspired by the expectation of personal profit when he first attacked the future medallist in
Absalom and Achitophel. 51

In undertaking the composition of this great satire, whether or not at the request of Charles II, Dryden
had found his great literary opportunity; and, of this, he took advantage in a spirit far removed from that
of either the hired bravos or the spiteful lampooners of his age. For this opportunity he had been
unconsciously preparing himself as a dramatist; and it was in the nature of things, and in accordance
with the responsiveness of his genius to the calls made upon it by time and circumstance, that, in the
season of a great political crisis, he should have rapidly perceived his chance of decisively influencing
public opinion by an exposure of the aims and methods of the party of revolution. This he proposed to
accomplish, not by a poetic summary of the rights of the case, or by a sermon in verse on the sins of
factiousness, corruption and treason, but by holding up to the times and their troubles, with no
magisterial air or dictatorial gesture, a mirror in which, under a happily contrived disgvise, the true
friends and the real foes of their king and country should be recognised. This was the “Varronian” form
of satire afterwards commended by him, with a well warranted self-consciousness, as the species,
mixing serious intent with pleasant manner, to which, among the ancients, several of Lucian’s Dialogues
and, among the moderns, the Encomium Moriae of Erasmus belong. “Of the same kind is ‘Mother
Hubberd’s Tale’; in Spenser, and (if it be not too vain to mention anything of my own) the poems of
‘Absalom’ and ‘MacFlecknoe.’” 78 52

The political question at issue, in the troubled times of which the names “whig” and “tory” still survive
as speaking mementoes, was that of the succession of the Catholic heir to the throne, or of his exclusion
in favour of some other claimant—perhaps the king’s son Monmouth, whom many believed legitimate
(the Absalom of the poem). For many months, Shaftesbury, who, after serving and abandoning a
succession of governments, had passed into opposition, had seemed to direct the storm. Two
parliaments had been called in turn, and twice the Exclusion bill had been rejected by the lords. Then, as
the whig leader seemed to have thrown all hesitation to the winds, and was either driving his party or
being driven by it into extremities from which there was no return, a tremor of reaction ran through the
land, the party round the king gathered confidence, and, evidence supposed sufficient to support the
charge having been swept in, Shaftesbury was committed to the Tower on a charge of high treason. It
was at this time of tension, while a similar charge was being actually pressed to the gallows against a
humbler agent of faction (the “Protestant joiner” Stephen College), that Dryden’s great effort to work
upon public opinion was made. Part I of Absalom and Achitophel, which seems to have been taken in
hand quite early in 1681, was published on 17 November in that year. Shaftesbury, it is known, was then
fearing for his life. A week later, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, the bill was ignored by the
Middlesex grand jury. Great popular rejoicing followed, and a medal was struck in Shaftesbury’s honour,
representing the sun emerging from the clouds, with the legend Laetamur. But, this momentary triumph
notwithstanding, the game was all but up; and, within a few months, Monmouth, in his turn, was under
arrest, and Shaftesbury a fugitive in Holland. 53

Without a mention of this well known sequence of events, the fact might, perhaps, be overlooked that
part I of Absalom and Achitophel 79 is complete in itself, being intended to help in producing a direct
result at a given moment, and that it is in no sense to be regarded as a mere instalment of a larger
whole, or as an introduction to it. Part II was a mere afterthought, and, being only to a relatively small
extent by Dryden, should, in the first instance, be left out of consideration. 54

Absalom and Achitophel veils its political satire under the transparent disguise of one of the most
familiar episodes of Old Testament history, which the existing crisis in English affairs resembled
sufficiently to make the allegory apposite and its interpretation easy. The attention of the English public,
and, more especially, that of the citizens of London, with whom the decision of the immediate political
issue lay, was sure to be arrested by a series of characters whose names and distinctive features were
borrowed from the Old Testament; and the analogy between Charles II’s and David’s early exile and final
triumphant establishment on the throne was a commonplace of restoration poetry. Indeed, the actual
notion of an adaptation of the story of Achitophel’s wiles as “the Picture of a wicked Politician” was not
new to English controversial literature; in 1680, a tract entitled Absalom’s Conspiracy had dealt with the
supposed intentions of Monmouth; and a satire published in 1681, only a few months before Dryden’s
poem, had applied the name Achitophel, with some other opprobrious names, to Shaftesbury. For the
rest, Dryden, with the grandezza habitual to him, was careless about fitting the secondary figures of his
satire exactly with their Scriptural aliases, or boring the reader by a scrupulous fidelity or even
consistency 80 of detail. 55

Absalom and Achitophel remains the greatest political satire in our literature, partly because it is
frankly political, and not intended, like Hudibras, by means of a mass of accumulated detail, to convey a
general impression of the vices and follies, defects and extravagances, of a particular section or
particular sections of the nation. With Dryden, every hit is calculated, and every stroke goes home; in
each character brought on the scene, those features only are selected for exposure or praise which are
of direct significance for the purpose in hand. It is not a satirical narrative complete in itself which is
attempted; the real dénouement of the piece falls not within, but outside, its compass; in other words,
the poem was to lead up, as to an unavoidable sequitur, to the trial and conviction of its hero. The
satirist, after the fashion of a great parliamentary orator, has his subject and his treatment of it well in
hand; through all the force of the invective and the fervour of the praise, there runs a consciousness of
the possibility that the political situation may change. This causes a constant self-control and wariness in
the author, who is always alive to his inspiration and never unmindful of his cue. Instead of pouring forth
a stream of Aristophanic vituperation or boyish fun in the vein of Canning, he so nicely adapts the
relations of the more important of his characters to the immediate issue that the treatment, both of the
tempter Achitophel and of the tempted Absalom, admitted of manipulation when, before the
appearance of the poem in a second edition, 81 the condition of affairs had changed. 56

Chapter and verse could, without difficulty, be found for every item in Johnson’s well known panegyric
of Absalom and Achitophel in his Life of Dryden. The incomparable brilliancy of its diction and
versification are merits which, to be acknowledged, need only to be mentioned. Still, its supreme
excellence lies in its descriptions of character, which, no doubt, owed something to his dramatic
practice, and more to the development which this kind of writing had experienced during a whole
generation of English prose literature, reaching its full height in Clarendon. Dryden’s exquisite etchings
cannot be compared with the finest of the full-length portraits from the hand of the great historical
writer; but, thanks, no doubt, in part, to the Damascene brightness and keenness into which the poet
had tempered his literary instrument, and thanks, also, to the imaginative insight which, in him, the
literary follower of the Stewarts, was substituted for the unequalled experience of their chosen adviser,
Clarendon, the characters of the poem live in the memory with unequalled tenacity. How unmistakably
is the pre-eminence of Achitophel among the opponents of the royal government signalised by his being
commissioned, like his prototype 82 when charged with the temptation and corruption of mankind, to
master the shaken virtue of Absalom! Yet, when the satire proceeds from the leader to the followers,
what composite body of malcontents was ever analysed, even by a minister driven to bay, with surer
discernment and more perfect insight? The honest whigs, the utilitarian radicals, the speculators who
use party for their private ends, the demagogues and mob-orators who are the natural product of
faction—all are there; but so, too, are the republicans on principle, headed by survivors of the fanatics
who believed in their own theocracy. Of course, the numerical strength of the party is made up by the
unthinking crowd that takes up a cry—in this case, the cry “No Popery.” Of the chiefs of the faction, for
the most part, a few incisive lines, or even a damning epithet, suffice to dispose; but there are
exceptions, suggested by public or by private considerations. In the latter class, Dryden’s own statement
obliges us to include Zimri (Buckingham)—a character which he declares to be “worth the whole poem.”
83 What he says of his intentions in devising this masterpiece of wit, and of his success in carrying them
into execution, illustrates at once the discretion with which he applied his satirical powers, and the
limitation which his nature, as well as his judgment, imposed upon their use. Moral indignation was not
part of Dryden’s satirical stock. 84 Even the hideously true likeness of Titus Oates (Corah) preserves the
accent of sarcasm which had suited the malicious sketch of Shimei, the inhospitable sheriff of the city; it
is as if the poet’s blame could never come with so full a tone as the praise which, in the latter part of the
poem, is gracefully distributed among the chief supporters of the crown. The poem ends with a speech
from king David, only in part reproducing the speech of Charles II to the Oxford parliament (March,
1681), of which the king is said to have suggested the insertion.

Since the publication of Annus Mirabilis 12 years earlier, Dryden had given almost all his time to
playwriting. If he had died in 1680, it is as a dramatist that he would be chiefly remembered. Now, in the
short space of two years, he was to make his name as the greatest verse satirist that England had so far
produced. In 1681 the king’s difficulties—arising from political misgivings that his brother, James, the
Roman Catholic duke of York, might succeed him—had come to a head. Led by the earl of Shaftesbury,
the Whig Party leaders had used the Popish Plot to try to exclude James in favour of Charles’s
illegitimate Protestant son, the duke of Monmouth. But the king’s shrewd maneuvers eventually turned
public opinion against the Whigs, and Shaftesbury was imprisoned on a charge of high treason.

As poet laureate in those critical months Dryden could not stand aside, and in November 1681 he came
to the support of the king with his Absalom and Achitophel, so drawing upon himself the wrath of the
Whigs. Adopting as his framework the Old Testament story of King David (Charles II), his favourite son
Absalom (Monmouth), and the false Achitophel (Shaftesbury), who persuaded Absalom to revolt against
his father, Dryden gave a satirical version of the events of the past few years as seen from the point of
view of the king and his Tory ministers and yet succeeded in maintaining the heroic tone suitable to the
king and to the seriousness of the political situation. As anti-Whig propaganda, ridiculing their leaders in
a succession of ludicrous satirical portraits, Dryden’s poem is a masterpiece of confident denunciation;
as pro-Tory propaganda it is equally remarkable for its serene and persuasive affirmation. When a
London grand jury refused to indict Shaftesbury for treason, his fellow Whigs voted him a medal. In
response Dryden published early in 1682 The Medall, a work full of unsparing invective against the
Whigs, prefaced by a vigorous and plainspoken prose “Epistle to the Whigs.” In the same year,
anonymously and apparently without Dryden’s authority, there also appeared in print his famous
extended lampoon, Mac Flecknoe, written about four years earlier. What triggered this devastating
attack on the Whig playwright Thomas Shadwell has never been satisfactorily explained; all that can be
said is that in Mac Flecknoe Shadwell’s abilities as a literary artist and critic are ridiculed so ludicrously
and with such good-humoured contempt that his reputation has suffered ever since. The basis of the
satire, which represents Shadwell as a literary dunce, is the disagreement between him and Dryden over
the quality of Ben Jonson’s wit. Dryden thinks Jonson deficient in this quality, while Shadwell regards the
Elizabethan playwright with uncritical reverence. This hilarious comic lampoon was both the first English
mock-heroic poem and the immediate ancestor of Alexander Pope’s The Dunciad.

Absalom and Achitophel, verse satire by English poet John Dryden published in 1681. The poem, which is
written in heroic couplets, is about the Exclusion crisis, a contemporary episode in which anti-Catholics,
notably the earl of Shaftesbury, sought to bar James, duke of York, a Roman Catholic convert and
brother to King Charles II, from the line of succession in favour of the king’s illegitimate (but Protestant)
son, the duke of Monmouth. Dryden based his work on a biblical incident recorded in 2 Samuel 13–19.
These chapters relate the story of King David’s favourite son Absalom and his false friend Achitophel
(Ahithophel), who persuades Absalom to revolt against his father. In his poem, Dryden assigns each
figure in the crisis a biblical name; e.g., Absalom is Monmouth, Achitophel is Shaftesbury, and David is
Charles II. Despite the strong anti-Catholic tenor of the times, Dryden’s clear and persuasive dissection
of the intriguers’ motives helped to preserve the duke of York’s position.

A second part of the poem—largely composed by Nahum Tate, playwright and poet laureate of Britain,
but containing 200 lines by Dryden that were directed at his literary rivals Thomas Shadwell and Elkanah
Settle—was published in 1682.

Satire is a form of literature, the proclaimed purpose of which is the reform of human weaknesses or
vices through laughter or disgust. Satire is different from scolding and sheer abuse, though it is
prompted by indignation. Its aim is generally constructive, and need not arise from cynicism or
misanthropy. The satirist applies the test of certain ethical, intellectual and social standards to men and
women, and determines their degree of criminality or culpability. Satire naturally has a wide range; it
can involve an attack on the vices of an age, or the defects of an individual or the follies common to the
very species of mankind.

Absalom and Achitophel is a landmark political satire by John Dryden.

Dryden marks his satire with a concentrated and convincing poetic style. His satiric verse is majestic,
what Pope calls: “The long majestic march and energy divine”. Critics have unanimously remarked on
Dryden’s capacity to transform the trivial into the poetical; personal envy into the fury of imaginative
creation. The obscure and the complicated is made clear and simple. All this transforming power is to be
seen at the very beginning of Absalom and Achitophel. The state of ‘Israel’ is easy to understand and yet
Dryden shows himself a master both of the Horatian and the Juvenalian styles of Satire. He is urbance
witty devastating and vigorous, but very seldom petty.

Ab & AC : Basically a Political Satire: Dryden called Absalom and Achitophel ‘a poem’ and not a satire,
implying thereby that it had elements other than purely satirical. One cannot, for instance, ignore the
obvious epic or heroic touches in it. All the same, the poem originated in the political situation of
England at the time and one cannot fail to note that several political personalities are satirised in it.
Published in November 1681, the theme was suggested by the king to Dryden. At this time, the
question of succession to King Charles had assumed great importance. The Earl of Shaftesbury had been
thrown into prison to face a charge of high treason. There were two contenders for the succession.
Firstly, Charles’ brother James, Duke of York, a known Roman Catholic; the second contender was
Charles’ illegitimate son, the Protestant Duke of Monmouth. The Whigs supported Monmouth while the
Tories supported the cause of James in order to ensure stability in the country. There was great public
unrest on account of the uncertainty of succession. King Charles II saw to it that the Exclusion bill
brought before Parliament, to exclude the succession of his brother James, could not be pushed
through. The earl of Shaftesbury, a highly ambitious man, sought to capitalise on this unrest. He also
urged Monmouth to rebel against his father. The King, though fond of his illegitimate son, did not
support his succession because that would have been against law. The Earl of Shaftesbury was arrested
on a charge of high treason and lost popular support.
Dryden’s Aim in Absalom and Achitophel: The aim of Dryden was to support the King and to expose his
enemies. Of course, Charles had his own weaknesses; he was extremely fond of women. But Dryden
puts a charitable mantel over his sexual sins. He is mild in dealing with his real vices. The king himself did
not think unfavourably of his love affairs. Sexual licence was the order of the age and as such, it did not
deserve condemnation. Dryden has nothing but praise for the king’s moderation in political matters and
his leniency towards rebels. Dryden’s lash falls on the King’s enemies particularly the Earl of Shaftesbury.
He was reckless politician without any principles who, “ having tried in vain to seduce Charles to
arbitrary government had turned round and now drives down the current”. Dryden dreads the fickleness
of the mob and he is not sure to what extremes a crowd can go. However, the king’s strictness and
instinct for the rule of law won for him popular support and he was able to determine the succession
according to his desire. Dryden’s reference to the godlike David shows his flattery of the King and his
belief in the “Theory of the Divine Right of Kings”.

Political Satire Cast in Biblical Mould: Dryden chose the well known Biblical story of Absalom revolting
against his father David, at the wicked instigation of Achitophel, in order to satirise the contemporary
political situation. The choice of a Biblical allegory is not original on dryden’s part, but his general
treatment of the subject is beyond comparison, as Courthope points out. But all the while Dryden takes
care to see that the political satire in not lost in the confusion of a too intricate Biblical parallelism. The
advantage of setting the story in pre-Christian times is obvious as it gave Dryden had at once to praise
the King and satirise the King’s opponents. To discredit the opponents he had to emphasise on
Monmouth’s illegitimacy; but at the same time he had to see that Charles (who was Monmouth’s father)
was not adversely affected by his criticism. He could not openly condone Charles’ loose morals; at the
same time, he could not openly criticise it either. With a masterly touch he sets the poem :

“In pious times are priestcraft did begin

Before polygamy was made a sin;

When man on maultiplied his kind,

Ere one to one was cursedly confined….”

The ironical undertone cannot be missed; Dryden is obviously laughing up his sleeve at Charles himself,
who, as a witty patron, could not have missed it, nor failed to enjoy it.

Conclusion: Dryden is correctly regarded as the most vigorous and polished of English satirists combining
refinement with fervour. Dryden is unequalled at debating in rhyme and Absalom and Achitophel
displays his power of arguing in verse. It may be said that Absalom and Achitophel has no rival in the
field of political satire. Apart from the contemporary interest of the poem and its historical value, it
appeal to the modern reader lies in its observations on English character and on the weaknesses of man
in general. His generalisations on human nature have a perennial interest. Dryden triumphed over the
peculiar difficulties of his chosen theme. He had to give, not abuse or politics,but the poetry of abuse
and politics. He had to criticise a son whom the father still liked; he had to make Shaftesbury denounce
the King but he had to see to it that the King’s susceptibilities were not wounded. He had to praise
without sounding servile and he had to criticise artistically. Dryden achieves all this cleverly and skilfully.
Achitophel’s denunciation of the king assumes the shades of a eulogy in Charles’ eyes. Absalom is a
misguided instrument in Achitophel’s hands. The poem is certainly a political satire, but it is a blend of
dignity with incisive and effective satire.

Dryden was a famous English poet, best known for his satirical poetry. His Absalom and Achitophel
characters is considered as one of his best political satire. The poem is allegoric in nature. Dryden uses
the device of allegory in order to criticize the political situation of his time.

The restoration of England Monarchy began in 1660. Before Restoration, Oliver Cromwell was ruling
over England and subsequently his son Richard Cromwell. During these several years, there was no
monarchy in England. In 1610, English, Scottish, and Irish monarchies were all restored under Charles II.

In 1681 in England, Charles II was in his advanced years and had no legitimate heirs. His brother, James II
was not liked by people because of his intense incline towards Roman Catholics. On the other hand,
James Scott, the illegitimate son of King Charles and the Duke of Monmouth, was very popular for both
his personal charisma and his favor for the Protestants. Moreover, there was also a prevailing tussle
among the Wighs and Tories.

When Charles’ health suffers, there was a panic in the House of Common over the chances of the nation
being ruled by a Roman Catholic King. People were eager to see Duke of Monmouth as their future king,
but according to the law of succession, he could not rule the nation. Wighs ignited the fire of rebellion
against King Charles. The James Scott was manipulated by Earl of Shaftesbury to rebel against his father.
The James Scott was caught preparing to rebel and this lead to his execution by the orders of James II in
1685.

Dryden wrote this poem on King’s demand. Through this poem, Dryden lampooned the Wighs and Earl
of Shaftesbury. However, he did not use harsh criticism for James Scott. Absalom and Achitophel veils its
political satire under the transparent disguise of a Biblical Story. This poem perfectly depicts the existing
crisis and political issues of the contemporary society.

Absalom was persuaded by Achitophel to rebel against King David. Absalom symbolizes James Scott and
Achitophel symbolizes Earl of Shaftesbury. Dryden, using the Biblical Allegory, satirizes Achitophel and
those who were following him. The satire proceeds from leader to the followers: the Whigs. Through his
poem, Dryden wants to tell King Charles that James Scott was not guilty because the person who
inflamed the will of rebellion in James Scott was Earl of Shaftesbury. The poem also satirized King
Charles but not in harsh words. He criticized the King by mentioning his “many wives and slaves”.

Absalom and Achitophel remains the greatest political satire in English Literature, partly because of its
judicious and moderate satire and partly because of its true depiction of the follies and vices that
prevails in a particular section of the nation.

Absalom and Achitophel written by John Dryden is a political satire. Since Dryden was belong to
Restoration period so we can easily say Dryden’s this work is mirror of that period. We have found
several historical stories through this poem.

In this period, there were several political parties in England. Among them Whig and Tory were
common. Whig was Protestant and against the king and Tory was Catholic and supporter of king. As the
relation between these two parties was not good so when they expressed anything through their writing
they used satire form in their writing for opposite party. In this way, satire became popular form among
the parties, but as a poet or writer, Dryden used satire as a literary form in his poem in a good way.

Before describing Absalom and Achitophel as a political satire, we need to know the definition of the
widely used literary technique, satire. Satire is a literary attack on the follies and vices of individual or
society in order to correct them through laughter and ridicule. It has some characteristics. These are-

· Literary form of expression.

· Disgust at the ugly and foolishness.

· Humour.

· A sincere desire to correct or reform.

The only intention of Dryden to write this poem was to support King Charles II. The King himself asked
Dryden to write a poem satirizing the Whig party and particularly its leader Shaftesbury. Dryden was
also supporter of Tory. He was called Staunch Tory. He used satire very strictly for that people who were
against the King Charles II and made plan to dethrone him.

First, Dryden attacked Earl of Shaftesbury. With his brilliant tricks he represented Shaftesbury as
hypocrite. We found Shaftesbury a smooth talker and with his this capability, he convinced Duke of
Monmouth to go against his father.

Dryden also attacked Protestant group. The Protestant group was in fear that if James, the brother of
King Charles II, came to the throne then Roman Catholics would be beneficial and would be in power.
Here, it is notable that James, the Duke of York was thought to be a follower of Pope of Roman Catholic.
Instead, Protestants wanted to see the Duke of Monmouth in the throne of England. In Absalom and
Achitophel, Dryden tried to show the traitorous activities of the Whig against their king.

In the seventeenth century England, religion played a big role in ruling the country and politics and
religion were closely related to each other. Both Protestant Christians and their rival Roman Catholic
were in cock fight to grab the power of the country. To prevent Roman Catholics from getting into the
power of England, a clergyman, Titus Oates, in favor of Protestants, also made a plan and claimed that
James and Roman Catholics had tried to kill the King Charles II in order to make James as the king of
England which was later proved wrong.
Dryden in Absalom and Achitophel also criticized Duke of Buckingham with whom he had personal
conflict. When Dryden joined as a poet-laureate and historiographer to the government in 1670, he got
both money and recognition. Being jealous of Dryden’s such prosperity, some contemporary high
officials started making fun of him. Duke of Buckingham was one of those people. In his literary
work, The Rehearsal, he strongly criticized Dryden. In Absalom and Achitophel, Dryden took the revenge
of making fun of him. In his poem, Dryden compared the Duke of Buckingham to the Biblical character
Zimri, who being lured of the throne of Israel, killed his master and ascended to the throne thought
Zmiri could only survive for seven days as the king of Israel. In reality, Duke of Buckingham was initially a
friend of King Charles II, but when the religious chaos between Whig and Tories started, he joined the
Whig, the rebel group of King Charles II.

In Absalom and Achitophel, Dryden did not focus much on the Duke of Monmouth who in the poem is
compared to Absalom. Instead, he criticized much about Shaftesbury who is compared to Achitophel.
According to Bible, Achitophel was a counselor to the court of King David, father of Absalom. When
Absalom set to fight against his father, King David, Achitophel joined Absalom’s side. So,
Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel would be much more related to the Biblical incident of Absalom and
Achitophel, if he gave much importance on the Duke of Monmouth while making satire. However,
Dryden mostly attacked Shaftesbury (symbolizing Achitophel in the poem). There are some political
reasons behind it. At that time in England, Shaftesbury was in lead of the Whig, who placed “The
Exclusion Bill” to the House of Commons. So, Dryden wanted to save King Charles II from any volatile
situation due to the continuing rebellion. That is why; Dryden gave much importance while making
satire. Another reason is that Dryden might have though that if he criticized Duke of Monmouth much
then he would be more furious and as the Duke of Monmouth was an illegitimate child of King Charles II,
Dryden tried to make a compromise between the King and Duke of Monmouth so that the movement
over the religion and power could be stopped.

In Dryden’s time, satire became popular, especially among the political parties. In that time, Dryden
wrote this poem. It is his best work. Now, this satire poem is considered as a classical work of Dryden in
English literature.

On the surface, John Dryden’s poem “Absalom and Achitophel” is a rehashing of the story of David, the
third king of Israel, and his illegitimate son Absalom, who rebels against his father and tries to usurp his
throne. However, this biblical story is merely an allegory, a form of extended metaphor, for the political
events that unfolded in Dryden’s time. In 1678, an alleged Catholic conspiracy to assassinate King
Charles II, known as the Popish Plot, swept across England, creating mass anti-Catholic hysteria and
prompting the Exclusion Crisis of 1679. The Exclusion Crisis lasted until 1681 and consisted of three
Parliamentary bills which attempted to exclude James, King Charles’s brother, from royal succession
because he was a Roman Catholic rather than a Protestant. Dryden’s poem is a thinly veiled satirical
roast of the political drama that pervaded English society in the late 1670s and early 1680s, and no one
is spared his wit. According to Dryden, “the true end of satire is the amendment of vices by correction,”
and “Absalom and Achitophel” is an attempt to that end. Through the use of satire and allegory in
“Absalom and Achitophel,” Dryden ultimately argues that the Popish Plot and the Exclusion Crisis were
devious ploys to divert the rightful order of succession and prevent James II from ascending the throne.

Through the deceit of Achitophel, a politician who sows dissention among the Jews, Dryden allegorizes
the Popish Plot and implies the fabricated plot is merely an attempt to breed strife between David and
the government, or, figuratively, between Parliament and Charles II of England. In Israel, metaphorically
England, the “Good Old Cause revive[s] a plot” to “raise up commonwealths and ruin kings.” The “Good
Old Cause” is a reference to the Puritan Rebellions of the English Civil War (1642–1651), which pitted
King Charles I, who was supported by the Catholics, against Parliament, which was supported by the
Puritans, a form of Protestantism. The war was a victory for Parliament; Charles I was executed and the
Commonwealth of England was created. The monarchy was restored in 1660, and Charles II ascended
the throne. With this reference, Dryden implies that the Popish Plot is little more than a revival of the
Good Old Cause and an attempt to dethrone a king. In the poem, rumor begins to spread that King
David’s life is “Endangered by a brother and wife. / Thus in a pageant show, a plot is made, / And peace
itself is war in masquerade.” Titus Oates, a priest of the Church of England and the mastermind of the
Popish Plot, accused Charles’s brother James and Charles’s wife, Queen Catherine, of involvement in the
plot against Charles. Dryden suggests that Oates’s claims are nonsense—the plot is a “pageant show,” a
charade—and such claims amount to a “war in masquerade,” as the desired outcome, to remove a man
who is destined to be king out of royal succession, is similar to that of the English Civil War. Ultimately,
the plot fails “for want of common sense,” but it has a “deep and dangerous consequence.” The Popish
Plot, Dryden implies, was destined to fail because it completely lacked wisdom. However, the paranoia
and anti-Catholic sentiments the plot churned up led directly to the Exclusion Crisis, which again pitted
Parliament against the king. Members of Parliament pushed for James to be removed from royal
succession, and Charles adamantly supported his brother.

In the poem, Dryden discusses many of the men who support Achitophel and his plan to strip David of
his power. In this way, Dryden also satirizes the politicians who supported the Exclusion Bill, portraying
them as despicable men “who think too little and who talk too much.” Thus, Dryden implies that their
proposed law—to keep Roman Catholics from the throne—is likewise foolish and dangerous.
Achitophel, who encourages Absalom to rebel against his father, is a contemptable man who resolves
“to ruin or to rule the state.” Achitophel is a representation of Anthony Ashley Cooper, 1st Earl of
Shaftesbury, a Member of Parliament and founder of the Whig party, who opposed absolute monarchy
in favor of a more democratic approach. Cooper was a major proponent of the Exclusion Bill, and
Dryden implies Cooper intended to use the bill to either take the government over, or completely take it
down. Achitophel has several supporters, “whom kings no titles gave, and God no grace,” including the
“well-hung Balaam and cold Caleb free.” Balaam and Caleb represent Theophilus Hastings and Arthur
Capel respectively, both politicians and members of the Whig party who supported the Exclusion Bill.
Dryden therefore implies these men are low-level politicians who have little sense and no influence.
While Balaam and Caleb may have little sense, “not bull-faced Jonas,” Dryden says, “who could statutes
draw / To mean rebellion and make treason law.” Jonas represents Sir William Jones, a Member of
Parliament who supported the Exclusion Bill. As Attorney General, Jones prosecuted several Catholics
who were falsely accused and executed during the Popish Plot. In this way, Dryden implies that Jones,
especially teamed with Cooper, can do real and lasting damage to the country and to the monarchy.

Achitophel and his supporters begin to stoke “the malcontents of all the Israelites” and sway public
opinion, and the Sanhedrins, the Jewish high council, becomes “infected with this public lunacy” as well.
The Sanhedrins, of course, are a metaphor for the English Parliament, and the “public lunacy” is the
Exclusion Crisis. Through his satirical poem, Dryden had hoped the people of England and Parliament
would see the Popish Plot and Exclusion Crisis for what they really were—plots devised to keep James II,
a Roman Catholic, out of royal succession.

Introduction:

Dryden is one of the greatest English satirists. He is the first practitioner of classical satire which after
him was to remain in vogue for about one hundred and fifty years. From the very beginning of his
literary career Dryden evinced a sharp satiric bent. He translated some of the satires of the Roman
writer Persius when he was only a pupil at Westminster. Further, in his comedies he produced
numerous passages of sparkling satire. He keenly studied the satirical traditions of Rome and France and
whatever satire England had to offer.

But it was not till he was about fifty that he came to write Absalom and Achitophel-fae, first of the four
major satiric works on which his reputation as a poet is based. With his practice he gave a new form and
direction to English satire and raised it to the level of French and Roman satire. He made satire not only
a redoubtable weapon to chastise personal and public enemies but also an important, if not a very
exalted, genre of literature which was later to attract such great writers as Pope, Swift, Addison, and Dr.
Johnson. Dryden's four important satires are:

(1) Absalom and Acmtopliel.

(2) The second part of Absalom and Achitophel chiefly written by Nahum Tate and including
about 200 lines by Dryden.

(3) The Medal.

(4) Mac Flecknoe.

Dryden's Contribution and Place:

Dryden as a satirist does not fall in with native English tradition of Langland. Gascoigne, Donne, Lodge,
Hall, Marston, Cleveland, etc. which was carried on by his contemporaries like Oldham and Samuel
Butler. Just as in his non-satiric poetry he reacted against the "romanticism" of the Elizabethans and the
confusion, grotesqueness, and formlessness of the imitators of Donne, similarly in his satire he broke
away from the harshness, disrespect of form, and denunciatory tone of the English satirists before him.
He seems to have looked for inspiration not towards them but-a neo-classicist as he was-towards the
Roman satirists-Horace, Juvenal, and Persius-and their French followers, the most outstandina of whom
was his adored Boileau.

Both as a critic and as a creative writer, Dryden emphasised and felt the need for artistic control and
urbanity of manner. For all successful satire these qualities are of the nature of pre-requisites. It is most
essential for a satirist to hide his disgust and moral animus behind a veil of equanimity and urbanity of
manner. If he just loses his head at the sight of the object which is to be the target of his attack and
comes out with open denunciation or direct name-calling he will not be a successful satirist. A satirist is
a propagandist in so far as his effort is to direct the sympathies of the reader into harmoriy with his own
and against the object sought to be satirised. Naturally enough, if he speaks too openly from the
position of a partisan, he will cut little ice with the reader. So the satirist should not appear too serious-
too serious to be taken seriously. Of course he should be very serious, but he should give the impression
of being not very serious, or even neutral between the two opposite points of view, one of which his
effort is to promote and the other to counteract. He should lessen, as far as possible, the intensity of
self-involvement through the employment of some sly indirection of technique. Dryden himself was
aware of it when he said that the satirist should make a man "die sweetly," call him a fool or a rogue
without using these "opprobrious terms." He distinguished between the "slovenly butchering" done by a
bad satirist and the dexterous stroke which severs the head but leaves it standing. Seldom does Dryden
indulge in open denunciation or invective, but he often uses such indirect techniques as irony, sarcasm,
and above all his exuberant wit. It is what primarily distinguishes him from his predecessors who were
always open and direct in their attacks. His satire is indirect and, therefore, smooth, urbane, and
without angularities or harshness. The same-is the case with his versification. He found a good satiric
vehicle in the heroic couplet and chiselled and planed it to brilliance. His versification avoids the
harshness deliberately cultivated by his young friend Oldham who also employed the heroic couplet.
Observes Hugh Walker: "It is this combination-smoothness of verse, lucidity of style, urbanity of
manner-which makes Dryden's satire so strikingly original. In English there had hitherto been nothing
comparable to it."

Controlled Contempt:

Dryden's satire is remarkable-as an artistic expression of controlled contempt. Broadly speaking, the
three great English satirists-Dryden, Pope, and Swjft-work through different channels Dryden is a master
of scorn or contempt, Pope of rage, and Swift of disgust. Of course, all of them artistically control their
respective presiding feeling, else they would not have been "great" satirists. Dryden who in T. S. Eliot's
phrase is "the great master of contempt, unlike his predecessors, does not take any moral airs. Donne,
Hall, and Marston seem to be speaking from a moral elevation, as if they were saints whose moral sense
has been outraged. Now, this takes for granted a kind of moral pose which debars satire from assuming
an appearance of genuineness or sincerity. Once this moral pose has been seen through by the reader,
he cannot accept to be dictated or "moved" by the satirist whom he knows to be an erring being like
himself. Dryden speaks as one civilised being to others, without pretending to give them lessons in
morality. For one thing he eschews all moral and religious issues. The issues he tackles concern politics,
taste and good breeding and, only incidentally, morals or religion. Saintsbury observes: "It never does
for the political satirist to lose his temper and to rave and rant and denounce with the airofan inspired
prophet." As a critic says, "Dryden assumes no moral airs, firmly controls his satirical spirit and skilfully
selects the points and the manner of his attacks...The result is a humorous, disdainful, and yet incisive
mockery."

Dryden's Elevating Style:

One of Dryden's unique gifts is his capacity to ennoble and elevate the objects of his satire even when
his motive is to demean or depress them. The buoyant vigour of his poetry does not let them touch the
lowly ground. T. S. Eliot was the first to direct attention to this point when he wrote in his essay on
Dryden: "Much of Dryden's unique art consists in his ability to make the small into the great, prosaic into
the poetic, the trivial into the magnificent." Even when Dryden pours the vials of his scorn on
such characters as Titus Gates, Slingsby Bethel, and Shadwell, he gives them something of heroicdignity.
He extends the dimensions of their being (in the case of Shadwell, his physical being too!) and makes
them "poetic". His scorn diminishes and depresses them, but his poetry extends and exalts them. His
personal animus is often lost in the energy of creation, so that a Mac Flecknoe becomes much more
important than the real man called Shadwell, Corah than Titus Dates, and Shimetthan Slingsby Bethel.
Personal envy and malice shed their grossness and are burnished into real poetry. The end product has
little resemblance with the material Dryden starts with. Bonamy Dobree observes: "We have only to
think of Mac Fiecknoe to forget Shadwell; to think of Achitophel is to forgetShaftesbury; the persons are
lost in history, the satires are part of our
national consciousness. Everything is all the time compared not with something little but with
something great."' That way, Dryden's modus operandi is much different from Pope's. When Pope
satirises, he diminishes; when Dryden satirises, he exalts.

By exalting arid enlarging the objects of his satire, Dryden also raised the lowly genre of satire to the
level of epic. This was a no small achievement. His work Absalom and Achitophel which he gave the title
"a Poem" and not "a Satire"-is the first instance in English of a heroic satire. As Ian Jack has pointed out
in Augustan Satire, this poem consists of passages peculiar not only to one "kind" of poetry but to many
kinds-epic, satire, panegyric, etc. The style seldom becomes low, the kind of which may be employed for
an ordinary satire. Even in his mock-heroic satire Mac Flecknoe, which is conceived on a much lower
plane than Absalom and Achitophel, Dryden does not use very low or vulgar imagery to punish Shadwell.
The mock-heroic effect is created by the element of incongruity generated by the use of high idiom and
imagery for such an allegedly "low" character as Shadwell. The use of contemporary locations, stress,
etc., has a further ludicrous effect. In Absalom and Achitophel the use of biblical parallels has an exalting
effect but in Mac Flecknoe the reference to concrete historical details has the effect of the mock heroic.
Thus, in a word, whereas Absalom and Actitophel is a heroic satire, Mac Flecknoe is a mock-heroic satire.
However, in both the satirist works through high, and not low or vulgar, imagery and idiom.

This "exalting " effect on his satiric objects is made possible only by Dryden's effective and masterful
handling of the heroic couplet-a poetic measure which it was to his credit to perfect into an excellent
vehicle of satire by giving to it neatness, epigrammatic cogency and smart and felicitous phrasing, and
fully exploiting the scope it has for balance and antithesis. To a large extent he regularised the heroic
couplet by discouraging the licence taken by the earlier practitioners of this measure. He gave each line
five regular stresses and avoided, as far as possible, what is called enjambement or the trailing of sense
from one couplet to the next. His couplets are generally end-stopped and after every line there is
generally a natural stop. However, he himself took liberties with the location of the caesura and shifted
it within the line or even dispensed with it altogether at times. His handling'of the heroic couplet is not
as strict and Disciplined as Pope's. For instance, he sometimes uses an alexandrine instead of a regular
pentameter, and sometimes the couplet grows into a triplet. Pope was strict to avoid such licence, and
he even took Dryden to task for it. Nevertheless, Dryden's heroic couplets are more energetic, racy, and
spontaneous-looking than Pope's. As a master of contempt—sometimes expressed in ironical terms—
Dryden finds the couplet a very handy medium. Many of Dryden's couplets come out with sizzling and
scarifying intensity, and the sound of some of them, as Saintsbury puts it, resembles the sound of a slap
in the face.

Dryden's Major Satires:

(1) Absalom and Achitophel is Dryden's first and by far his best satire. It was perhaps written at
the suggestion of Charles II and was out just a week before the trial of Shaftesbury for sedition. It was
thus political in nature and was the representation of the Tory point of view. Its purpose was to malign
Shaftesbury as an enemy of peace and the nation and a seducer of the Duke of Monmouth-the King's
illegitimate son. The "poem" is conceived on near-epic dimensions though it contains many elements
below the dignity of an epic proper. There is much too little action though considerable tenseness. Much
of the interest of this work lies in the satirical portraits of Shaftesbury, the Duke of Buckingham, slingsby
Bethel, and Titus Gates veiled behind the biblical or pseudo-biblical figures of Achitophel, Zimri, Shimei,
and Corah respectively. The poem, says Sir Edmund Gosse, "really consists of satirical portraits cut and
polished like jewels and flashing malignant light from all their facets." There are some portraits of the
allies of the King, too, but they are not so effective. Indeed Dryden is a great master of the satiric
portrait which was quite fashionable at that time. Unlike Pope he gives his portrait a typical and, often,
universal character and significance, so that the historical character sought to be satirised is often lost in
the finished poetic portrait. (Pope was muchtoo malignant ever to lose sight of his target). There is a
sensitive variation of tone with which Dryden handles one character after
another, as there is in each case a varying degree of contempt and remorse at the sense of wasted or
misdirected talent.

(2) The two hundred odd lines which Dryden contributed to the second part
of Absalom and Achitophel authored by Nahum Tate constitute its best part. The rest of the poem is
beneath criticism, and even contempt. In his contribution.-he satirised Shadwell and Elkanah Settle in
the characters of Og and Doeg respectively.

(3) The Medal, subtitled A Satire Against Sedition, was again, topical in genesis. In spite of
Absalom and Achitophel, Shaftesbury was released from captivity. To commemorate his release the
Whigs struck a medal bearing the effigy of their hero. This stung Dryden into action and The Medal was
the result. He calls Shaftesbury "the pander of the people's heart" and takes him to task for his seditious
activities which would, Dryden alleges, plunge the country into ruin. He vigorously upholds, as
in Absalom and Achitophel, Hobbes's theory of political covenant.
(4) Mac Flecknoe is the only satire in which Dryden lashes a personal enemy even though his target-
Shadwell-was a vigorous upholder of the Whig cause. The sub-title of the work is "A Satire on the True
Blue Protestant Poet, T. S." Of Course, "T. S." is Thomas Shadwell. The Poem is of the nature of a
lampoon. Dryden ridicules Shadwell by representing him as the fittest heir to Flecknoe-the king of the
realm of dullness. Flecknoe was a very voluminous and terribly dull poet of Ireland. He is shown to single
out Shadwell, one of his numerous progeny, as

Shadwell alone of all my sons is he

Who stands confirmed in full stupidity

Then is described the coronation of Shadwell in a mock-heroic style. The poem was to serve as a model
for Pope's Dunciad--one of the most powerful poems of the eighteenth century.

Q2. Biblical allusions in AA

Dryden’s “Absalom and Achitophel” is famous for its biblical context, although it is technically a political
poem. More specifically, Dryden uses biblical allegory and reference in order to make a statement about
the politics and politicians of his time (i.e Charles II). Because of the Bible’s far reaching influence in the
Christian European world, it was easy for poets and writers like Dryden to use it in order to spread their
political or social ideals (Michael, 1996). The Bible set an easily recognizable and relatable stage, and
Dryden used this to his advantage in “Absalom and Achitophel.” From the very opening passages of the
poem we see allusions being made to God, Eden, and Israel.

The opening passages of this epic poem set David, the king, at a God-like state, saying “Then Israel’s
monarch after Heaven’s own heart,/ His vigorous warmth did variously impart/ To wives and slaves; and,
wide as his command,/ Scattered his Maker’s image through the land” (Dryden, 2004, 7-10). This
passage relates David to God in the way that he is able to create life. Just as God created life in Eden
with Adam and Eve, David created life in Israel through polygamy. Although this may sound extravagant
to the modern reader, one must pull from this relationship the irony in it as well. David is meant to be
seen as high up and God-like, but not God himself. His actions are not without flaw, and this becomes
clearer as the poem continues. At the beginning of the poem, this realization that David is not a God
himself is still blurred, especially with the introduction of Absalom, his son.

In the relationship between Absalom and David we see one of the clearest and most blatant forms of
biblical imagery. In David’s creation of Absalom his is immensely proud. He is described as a doting
father, indulgent; which shows a pride in his creation that is rivaled by the connection between God and
Adam in the Bible. Dryden seems to use biblical references to draw these comparisons between David
and God, and Absalom and Adam often. This same comparison can even be seen in the way in which
David provides for his son. David gives Absalom everything, even an Eve (i.e. Anabel), the poem states
“To all his wishes nothing he denied;/ And made the charming Annabel his bride” (Dryden, 2004, 33-34).
Yet, in David’s indulgence we begin to see a flaw. As in the Garden of Eden, or Adam character
(Absalom) is tempted, and David who sees only the good and precious in his son Absalom misses this
temptation. Thus enters the second largest biblical image in “Absalom and Achitophel,” the image of the
Serpent, Satan.

Achitophel is characterized in this poem as being persuasive and smooth talking. He makes references to
the messiah, the savior, and tries to make Absalom believe that this role belongs to him (Absalom). In
Achitophel’s speech to Absalom come some very familiar and vivid images from the bible. First
Achitophel refers to Absaloms nativity, like the nativity of Christ to be marked by a royal planet, an
astrological sign for the birth of Christ, yet an incorrect one for Absalom to be the true messiah. This of
course, escapes Absalom’s notice. Secondly, Achitophel states “Their cloudy pillar and their guardian
fire:/ Their second Moses, whose extended wand/ Divides the seas, and shows the promised land;/
Whose dawning day in every distant age/ Has exercised the sacred prophet’s rage (Dryden, 2004, 233-
237). These three images were taken from the Bible, and are were signs sent by God to his people.
Because of the prominence of these signs, and the well known script of the Bible, these are not only
strong signs for Absalom, but for the readers of Dryden’s piece as well. They are meant to convince the
naïve Absalom of the legitimacy of his place on the throne, and as his country’s messiah. Achitophel also
goes on to relate David, Absalom’s father, to Satan. All the while, the reader seems to pick up on
Achitophel as the deceiver, the serpent; while Absalom does not. Instead he hears Achitophel refer to
David as a fallen prince. “But, like the Prince of Angels, from his height,/ Comes tumbling downward
with diminished light” (Dryden, 2004, 273-274). This quotation alludes to the fallen angel Satan, and
further contrasts the David and Achitophel. Since the reader knows that David is a good man, a good
king, yet a doting father, we see the flaws in David as fatherly flaws, and as such this statement seems to
relate to us that Achitophel is the allusion of Satan. Yet to Absalom, who is naïve, and gullible,
Achitophel comes off more like the smooth talking and persuasive snake of the Garden of Eden, hence
Satan. Thus the allusion of Satan versus God, or David versus Achitophel is strengthened.

Furthermore, the contrast between Achitophel an David by the aforementioned statement creates a
stronger and more vivid picture of Absalom as Adam, tempted by the words of Satan (Achitophel), and
the fall of God (David), as the central figure in Adam’s life. While we, as readers, know that Adam was
wrong in turning from the word of God, Adam was tricked by the smooth talking serpent Satan, and
condemned to hard life on earth; Absalom seem oblivious to the deception taking place. Additionally,
the defamatory words of Achitophel are blasphemous to the God-like figure of David, further setting
apart the two characters in the poem.

Departing from the imagery of Eden, Dryden uses images from the story of Samson to describe David in
the time after Achitophel surfaces and deceives Absalom into following his ways. David is related to
Samson in that he is hinted to be without followers and friends, and yet like Samson of Bible, he is
powerful beyond words. While Absalom is deceived by Achitophel to believe he is the true hero, David is
the one behind the scenes, like God and Samson, making things happen. Dryden writes, “If my young
Samson will pretend a call/ To shake the column, let him share the fall” (Dryden, 2004, 955-956). Like
Samson in the Bible, this quotation signals the final defeat of Achitophel and a victory for David, who is
the true Samson, or the true God, in the poem. The quote
also seems to hint that Absalom is the false messiah, the false Samson, if you will, as Dryden uses the
term “pretend” rather than a more solid word. Ultimately, David overcomes the evil that is Achitophel,
and comes to win back the power that he lost through the errors of his fatherhood (i.e. being overly
doting and refusing to see the faults of his son Absalom). This reaffirms the power of the ruler, of God;
and put back into place the people who were straying dangerously far from him.

In the end Absalom and Achitophel, although an allegory for the politics of Dryden’s time, tells of the
story of God versus Satan, and the trials and tribulations of God and his people in that fight. Absalom is
the naïve people; tempted, deceived, by Satan; while David is the king, God, who suffers through the
blasphemy and perseveres to conquer evil and restore and reclaim his throne and place in the hearts of
his people. The use of biblical imagery and allusions allowed for Dryden to present a clearer and more
relatable picture to the people of his time. Additionally, it added a more poetic aspect to this epic piece
with the ambiguity of images and references which allowed Dryden to speak of Charles II and his
kingdom without directly doing so.

This work is considered one of the greatest examples of political satire in history, and it accomplishes
this through biblical allegory. England was a far more literate country than many others at the time, but
even so, if most people actually owned a book, that book was likely to be the Bible. The Bible acted as
metaphor for most Christians to a level far exceeding anything else ever published, and Dryden was well
aware of that. Therefore, he made the brilliant calculation to not cast his satire as an allegory of ancient
myth or British heroes: instead, his satire is situated within an allegorical framework that nearly every
reader would immediately understand. Furthermore, Dryden chose as his figures for transforming the
contemporary state of the right succession in England what is perhaps the most famous story of
succession in the entire Bible. Thus, Charles II is transformed into King David—in the top five of almost
every Bible reader’s list of heroes—while the Duke of Monmouth is appropriately cast as Absalom,
David’s son. The false Shaftesbury is the false Achitophel, a smart, manipulative, cunning figure.

The original Biblical story shares with Dryden’s narrative the central theme in which Absalom, the son of
Israel’s King David, is tempted by a manipulative political counsellor (Achitophel) to rebel against royal
authority. Both narratives note the popular nature of the uprising as well as King David’s sadness at his
son’s betrayal.

As had been the case since Henry VIII’s Reformation, political loyalties in late seventeenth-century
England still had strong religious undertones. Both Charles’s childless wife, Catherine, and his brother
James, Duke of York, openly professed their faith at a time when longstanding prejudices against
Catholicism (and fears concerning its reinstatement as the national religion) ran high. In 1678 these fears
reached boiling point when a Catholic convert named Titus Oates (whose extremely dubious reputation
should have alerted suspicion) offered a sworn testimony confirming the existence of a secret Jesuit plot
to assassinate the King.

The aftermath of Oates’s fabrications witnessed the execution of numerous innocent men and
widespread political turmoil between 1679 and 1681. The Earl of Shaftesbury (represented by
Achitophel in the poem) persuaded the King’s illegitimate son the Duke of Monmouth (Absalom) to lead
a popular campaign for a Protestant royal successor (thus excluding James). The attempt only narrowly
failed; Shaftesbury was still being held in the Tower of London on charges of high treason when
Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel was published. The poetic narrative allegorises authentic historical
events up to this moment, foregrounding the rebellious plot against a backdrop of other important
figures including King David (Charles II) and Corah (Titus Oates).

Charles II himself may have commissioned this indisputably Royalist poem. 6 What is clear, however, is
that Dryden contemplated a literary remit far beyond the royal directive. Alan Roper observes that
‘Absalom and Achitophel, more obviously than most poems, requires an audience to complete its
meanings. Absalom does not equal Monmouth, nor Achitophel Shaftesbury, until a reader says so, and
saying so enlarges the poem’s meanings by an act of interpretation.’ 7 Roper’s detailed exploration of
diverse contemporary interpretations makes apparent that, even for readers who remembered first-
hand the political events which inspired it, the poem’s use of Biblical allegory is not necessarily
straightforward. 8

For readers now distant from the ‘historical’ events of the 1680s, Dryden’s narrative is read differently
again. Dryden’s selective inclusion from the Biblical narrative, however, itself makes a point concerning
the ‘political’ nature of allegorical interpretation. Since the Restoration, the use of scriptural allegory
had commonly been associated with Puritan literature. VIII Since the Restoration, Puritans were widely
derided as the seditious faction responsible for the Civil War’s bloodshed. Here, Dryden contrasts the
dark memories of that period’s sinful plotting and king-killing with the moderate peace in Israel
(England) now enjoyed under ‘David’ (Charles II):

 The sober part of Israel, free from stain,

Well knew the value of a peaceful reign;
And, looking backward with a wise affright,
Saw seams of wounds, dishonest to the sight:
In contemplation of whose ugly scars
They cursed the memory of civil wars.
The moderate sort of men, thus qualified,
Inclined the balance to the better side;
And David’s mildness managed it so well,
The bad found no occasion to rebel.
But when to sin our biased nature leans,
The careful Devil is still at hand with means;
And providently pimps for ill desires:
The Good Old Cause revived, a plot requires.
Plots, true or false, are necessary things,
To raise up commonwealths and ruin kings. 9

The references to ‘civil wars’, ‘Good Old Cause’ and commonwealths are clearly intended to evoke the
‘ugly scars’ of the English Civil War. In employing a literary device which for so long was associated with
its perpetrators, Dryden reclaims sacred history for the Royalist cause. 10 Properly interpreted, the Bible
should (in Dryden’s argument) uphold the peaceful authority of the rightful king. Elsewhere, the
wrongful interpretation of God’s word is associated with the dangerous illusory visions of the false
prophet Corah (Titus Oates):

 To speak the rest, who better are forgot,

Would tire a well-breathed witness of the Plot.
Yet, Corah, thou shalt from oblivion pass:
Erect thyself, thou monumental brass,
High as the serpent of thy metal made,
While nations stand secure beneath thy shade.
What though his birth were base, yet comets rise
From earthly vapours, ere they shine in skies.
Prodigious actions may as well be done
By weaver’s issue, as by prince’s son.
This arch-attestor for the public good
By that one deed ennobles all his blood.
Who ever asked the witnesses’ high race
Whose oath with martyrdom did Stephen grace? (ll. 630–43)

Dryden’s richly allusive verse evokes the sheer volume of false evidence that the ‘well-breathed’ witness
Corah brought to ‘the Plot’. His obscure birth (Oates’s ancestors engaged in the ribbon-weaving trade)
suggests a self-propelled rise to fame (‘Erect thyself, thou monumental brass’), further reinforced
through Biblical references as in the allusion to the ‘serpent of brass’ erected by Moses in Numbers 21,
and the final rhetorical question concerning Stephen, the first Christian martyr, whose death by stoning
was occasioned by the testimony of false witnesses. 11 Dryden’s deft coordination of scriptural allusions
and contemporary references implicitly strengthens the bonds between royal power and divine
authority. Also effective is the linguistic economy of Dryden’s double meanings, in lines 633–4, of both
‘brass’ (as both the metallic substance of the serpent statue, or shamelessness as in ‘bold as brass’) and
‘metal’ (or ‘mettle’, as in the audacious character or spirit displayed by Oates’s perjury).

Dryden’s imagery conveys the partisan loyalties of the narrative’s characters. 12 The poem’s ‘villains’
(involved in the subversive plot) are associated with ugly or deformed corporeal imagery as well as the
imagery of food and drink. Achitophel’s decaying ‘Pigmy Body’ (ll. 156–8) and Corah’s ugly face (ll. 646–
9) are external signs of their corruption; the Jebusites’ (or Londoners’) former taste for ‘Egyptian’ (or
French, thus Roman Catholic) rituals alludes to the practice of transubstantiation as a means of ‘eating’
as well as worshipping gods (ll. 118–21). IX Ultimately, these images conflate to form David’s terrifying
vision of cannibalistic destruction which subversive factions bring upon themselves:

 By their own arts, ’tis righteously decreed,

Those dire artificers of death shall bleed.
Against themselves their witnesses will swear,
Till viper-like their mother Plot they tear:
 And suck for nutriment that bloody gore,
Which was their principle of life before. (ll. 1010–15)

Spoken near the poem’s end by the ‘godlike king’ himself, these lines even find approval from God who
‘nodding, gave consent’ to the speech with ‘peals of thunder’. Corporeal imagery associated with the
seditious contrasts with the depiction of kingly and divine qualities in both David and his faithful
supporters. Kingly qualities are also associated with the verbal authority of poetry itself. This is evident
in the commemorative ‘roll of honour’ where Dryden lists the names and glories of those loyal to David,
and the self-conscious way in which this list is presented: ‘Some let me name, and naming is to praise./
In this short file Barzillai first appears’ (ll. 816–17).

The ‘naming and praising’ of Barzillai (representing James Butler, Duke of Ormond, a staunch Stuart
supporter) is quickly followed with a eulogy for his eldest son (the Earl of Ossory, who died, aged 46, the
year before the poem was published). ‘As opposed to the striking corporeality of the rebels,’ Maresca
observes:

 Dryden employs no physical description whatever in his catalogue of the royalists, and his
opening encomium of Barzillai’s sainted and angelic son casts a protective cloak of spirituality
and immateriality over all the members of the group. Indeed, Dryden does not even have the
royalists do very much; in contrast to the rebels who slide, rush, ebb, flow, etc., the royalists
merely stand and speak – thereby making a minor but effective imagistic point about stability
and motion that David will capitalize upon in the very final lines of his speech. 13

Dryden thus aligns poetic speech, and rightful Scriptural interpretation, with a royalist manifestation of
the political ideal of peaceful stability. The timely observance that ‘never rebel was to arts a friend’ also
serves to remind readers that this poem itself is the product of royal patronage.

The obligations of patronage, royal or otherwise, complicate any poet’s task. This is apparent in the fact
that Absalom represents the (rebellious and misguided, but) still much-loved illegitimate son of his royal
patron. Dryden’s laureateship, however, did not exempt him from the obligation of seeking approbation
from the wider reading public (many of whom would have sympathised with Shaftesbury’s politics). His
depictions of Absalom and Achitophel are therefore necessarily more nuanced than the poem’s minor
characters.

Michael Seidel has noted how Dryden ‘pauses in his satirical attack and praises Shaftesbury for his role
years before as a judge in Israel’s (read England’s) courts’; that Achitophel is ‘sagacious, bold and
turbulent of wit’ makes him even more dangerous when his ambitions drive him to plot against the
King. 14 In praising the narrative’s villain, Dryden further strengthens the plausibility of his discourse.

Absalom is depicted as a tragic hero (‘’Tis juster to lament him than accuse’) or a victim of destiny and
mortal ambition (for Absalom’s depiction, see ll. 305–12, 477–86). His character exemplifies Dryden’s
ambiguous treatment of the related themes of nature and paternity/conception. Absalom is presented
early on as the most beautiful and brave of the King’s ‘numerous progeny’ whose paternal resemblance
is discerned with ‘secret joy’ by his ‘indulgent’ father (see, in particular, ll. 17–34). The lustful pleasure
implicated in the case of Absalom’s conception (‘his father got him with a greater gust’), and his
correspondent beauty and strength, contrast with the ‘unnatural’ deformities and miscarriages that
characterise the progeny of David’s enemies. 15 ‘Nature’ too, however, is at the root of Absalom’s
betrayal of his father since Achitophel persuades him that, if he does nothing, ‘the next heir’ (his uncle)
will be driven to kill him through jealousy – as Absalom is the people’s favourite – unless ‘nature’s eldest
law’ (self-defence) asserts itself first (ll. 441–58). Nature, therefore, is a force for both good and evil as
manifest in the King’s ‘natural’ son.

It is not an overstatement to observe that royal paternity lies at the very heart of the English political
crisis. 16 Howard Weinbrot’s examination of the poem’s many paternal relationships discovers, for
example, implicit criticism in the praise for Barzillai’s eight legitimate sons (which offers ‘a silent rebuke
to Charles’s eight illegitimate sons’). 17 Dryden garners all of his poetic brilliance to surmount the moral
and political dilemma begotten by the ‘vigorous warmth’ of Charles’s promiscuity; his use of Biblical
allegory repositions kingly sexual conduct into a distant and indeterminate – but still sacred – historical
moment in which the authority of God, and godlike kings, are more closely aligned.

The moral complexity of the poem’s two eponymous characters reflects Dryden’s prefatory observation
that ‘the true end of Satyr is the amendment of Vices by correction’. 18 Discerning vice in the King’s
conduct is necessarily problematic, but Dryden’s portrait of Israel’s Jews (the English) as a ‘headstrong,
moody, murmuring race’ is more straightforward. The general populace is easily swayed by political
rhetoric, specious factions and the handsome face of a new ‘young Messiah’:

 Youth, beauty, graceful action seldom fail;

But common interest always will prevail;
And pity never ceases to be shown
To him that makes the people’s wrongs his own. (ll. 723–6)

Dryden’s image of the ‘admiring crowd’ harks back to Juvenal’s Satire X in which the fickle mob ‘follows
Fortuna and cares for nothing but bread and circuses’. 19 The timeless universality of this image tacitly
implies that history provides valuable lessons for future generations; here, it reinforces Dryden’s
underlying message that the peaceful stability of kingly authority is preferable to the political turbulence
of popular rule (or democracy). History, Dryden argues, demonstrates that the general populace are
poor judges of leadership; this is evident in the Biblical example of Absalom and Achitophel and in the
cycles of rebellion that moved the ‘giddy Jews’ to ‘change their lord’ every twenty years – echoed also in
the twenty-year cycles of civil unrest in England between 1640 and 1680 (ll. 216–19).

Biblical background

The story of Absalom's rebellion against his father, King David, is told in the Old Testament of the Bible,
in the Second Book of Samuel (chapters 14 to 18). The beautiful Absalom is distinguished by his
extraordinarily abundant hair, which is thought to symbolise his pride (2 Sam. 14:26). When David's
renowned advisor, Achitophel (Achitophel in the Vulgate) joins Absalom's rebellion, another advisor,
Hushai, plots with David to pretend to defect and give Absalom advice that plays into David's hands. The
result is that Absalom takes the advice of the double agent Hushai over the good advice of Achitophel.
Achitophel, realising that the rebellion is doomed to failure, goes home and hangs himself. Absalom is
killed (against David's explicit commands) after getting caught by his hair in the thick branches of a great
oak tree: "His head caught fast in the oak, and he was left hanging between heaven and earth, while the
mule that was under him went on" (NRSV 2 Sam. 18:9). The death of his son, Absalom, causes David
enormous personal grief.

A second allegory in the poem, beginning on line 425, is the Parable of the Prodigal Son, which can be
found in the New Testament in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 15, verse 11-32. It is the tale of a son who
asks for his birthright early, loses it, and returns to his father, who then takes pity on him and shares
with him his remaining fortune. The father's forgiveness contrasts with the response of David towards
Achitophel, but still the story works well for a theme that deals with problems of ascension, and Dryden
uses similarities and differences in the two stories to express the poem's themes. Ideas from this second
allegory occur throughout the poem.

Historical background

In 1681 in England, Charles II was aged 51. He had had a number of mistresses and produced a number
of illegitimate children. One of these was James Scott, the Duke of Monmouth, who was very popular,
both for his personal charisma and his fervor for the Protestant cause. Charles had no legitimate heirs,
and his brother, the future King James II, was openly a Roman Catholic.[9] When Charles's health
suffered, there was a panic in the House of Commons over the potential for the nation being ruled by a
Roman Catholic king.[10] The Earl of Shaftesbury had sponsored and advocated the Exclusion Bill, which
would prevent James from succeeding to the throne, but this bill was blocked by the House of Lords on
two occasions. In the spring of 1681, at the Oxford Parliament, Shaftesbury appealed to Charles to
legitimise Monmouth. Monmouth was caught preparing to rebel and seek the throne, and Shaftesbury
was suspected of fostering this rebellion. The poem was written, possibly at Charles's behest, and
published in early November 1681.[11] On 24 November 1681, Shaftesbury was seized and charged with
high treason. A trial before a jury picked by Whig sheriffs acquitted him.[12]

Later, after the death of his father, the Duke of Monmouth—unwilling to see his uncle James become
King—executed his plans and went into full revolt. The Monmouth Rebellion was put down, and in 1685
the Duke was executed.

To begin the analysis of the poem we should at first say a few words about John Dryden, the man who
wrote “Absalom and Achitophel”, the political situation in England of that times and the reasons that
inspired him to write it. At first the author published the poem anonymously, just to let it become an
earworm in the society.

Actually, the explanation of the success of “Absalom and Achitophel” is very simple: it lies in the obvious
similarity of the main characters, aforementioned Absalom and Achitophel, to the Dryden’s
contemporaries. The poem wasn’t just a plain satire, it was a well-thought PR action. John Dryden tried
to drop the popularity of the Whig Party in general and one of its prominent member – the Earl of
Shaftesbury – in particular.
The ultimate goal of it was to prevent the Whigs promote the Exclusion Bill that, in its turn, will prevent
James II (the current potential King of England) from succeeding to the throne. So, the small poem was
directed to the changing the monarchy, no less.

If we look through the brief summary of “Absalom and Achitophel” and then conduct analysis of the
poem, we will easily see how the main themes and motifs are revealed and how they, through the
Biblical setting, instill the opinion about the characters into the heads of the readers.

Charles II is represented by the Biblical King David and Anthony Ashley Cooper, the Earl of Shaftesbury is
Achitophel, the main antagonist to King David. Achitophel and the group of his allies decide that the King
isn’t worthy to rule and choose his illegitimate son Absalom (King Charles also had one, so the parallel is
completely transparent) to be the next successor.

Achitophel starts to get closer to Absalom, flattering him and describing to the young man his virtues as
possible King. The land, according to Achitophel, needs such a strong and wise ruler as Absalom could
be. During his advances we see that Achitophel is right: Absalom is indeed a worthy and noble man, to
the point that he utterly rejects the very possibility to disobey his father and, moreover, to overthrow
him. Despite being not the best King (as Absalom concludes after long persuasions of Achitophel), King
David is still his father, he raised Absalom and was caring and kind.

So, as an obedient son, he will never step against him. But gradually, the words of Achitophel start to
haunt the young man’s mind. Finally he agrees that King David shouldn’t be the King anymore, but still
says that King David has a brother who also possess all the virtues that the King may need. His brother,
succeeding to the throne, will be as wise and just as Absalom is, but this change will be at least
legitimate.

Achitophel, though, is not satisfied with this suggestion. The young and naive Absalom is easy to
manipulate, unlike the older and much more experienced brother of King David. So Achitophel resorts to
the personal reasons: he reminds Absalom that he is an illegitimate son. Embittered, the young man
berates and rejects his own mother for being of low origin. He dreams about becoming noble, so that he
could be really worthy to be the ruler.

Seeing this moment of weakness, Achitophel doubles his efforts. He points out that the people have the
right to choose their own King, not being limited by noble David and his brother. The King is the one who
cares about his country the best, not the one who was born in special conditions. Moreover, Absalom’s
popularity is rising so fast that King David will soon seriously consider killing the unwanted rival (we
don’t know if it’s true though). So, Absalom’s actions won’t be a revolt, they will be an act of self-
defence.

The last arguments of Achitophel solidify his portrayal as an evil and ruthless sociopath. He says that the
power (and King David as it’s bearer) is similar to a woman, who resists the advances of a man, but
secretly wants to be taken, relieved of her responsibilities and brutally raped. Achitophel seduces
Absalom to commit “a pleasing rape upon the crown” and after that the young man throws away all his
morals and hesitations and is completely immersed in the vision of his power as a new King.
John Dryden wrote “Absalom and Achitophel” in the form of heroic couplet. The beginning of the poem,
where Achitophel and his allies – Zimri, Shimei and Corah – are described, is very similar to the
beginning of “Paradise Lost” by John Milton, where he describes Satan and his demons on their council.

This comparison only adds more of epic flavor to the poem and sets frame of the main theme of the
plot: the seduction of an innocent soul. The analysis of Achitophel character shows that as his
personality is revealed throughout the poem, he progresses from the mere rebel desiring for power to
the classical evil counselor from fairy tales to the outright devilish being.

Achitophel starts from flattering Absalom and he tells the truth: the young man is indeed innocent, he is
an embodiment of virtues. But during the talks to Achitophel, Absalom loses them one by one. At first
he utterly refuses to discuss his father’s style of ruling, stating that it is not his business to judge the
King.

Achitophel, knowing that Absalom’s self-esteem is quite low because of his illegitimate birth, starts to
persuade the young man that King David makes mistakes and the country deserves more competent
ruler. It seems that this part is also logical – Absalom has no options than to agree that his father isn’t
perfect. This statement is, of course, true: managing the whole country is an incredible heavy task and
no one can achieve perfection in it.

But Absalom, who has an idealized image of his father, is devastated after he had to admit that King
David isn’t perfect. Still he loves his father and offers Achitophel another way to change the current
state of affairs: to give the crown to David’s brother. Absalom is still too humble to agree that he is the
only one who can become the new King.

From now on, the image of Achitophel is outright demonised. We see the sharp contrast between the
two characters: Absalom makes the hard decision to benefit his country, but Achitophel isn’t interested
in the wellbeing of the country at all. His only concern is his own power. He just need at least partially
legitimate proxy to rule. Achitophel reminds the young prince about the most painful part of his life: his
mother being a commoner, just to break Absalom entirely.

This is a point of no return for Absalom. He bitterly rejects his mother – a terrible sin to the Biblical and
modern moral standards – just for being born of low origin. It contrasts so much with his previous words
about King David as his loving father no matter what. We see that Absalom is ready to reject his
devotion to parents – he just started from the least important one for him. Just mere seconds later,
Absalom is horrified by his own words and his weakness, but it is too late: the first crack is made and
from here Achitophel uses just more and more dirty methods to achieve his goal.

The pinnacle of his advances and the most incomprehensibly disgusting part is comparing the crown and
its bearers to the victimized women who secretly dream about being raped. This predatory and primal
attitude can horrify anyone from the modern society (it goes well beyond the definition of harassment),
but it was equally unsetting for the contemporaries of John Dryden, just maybe because of slightly
different reasons.
Moreover, comparing David himself to such a woman, Achitophel urges Absalom to rape his own father.
This metaphor really crosses the line of every possible moral code and again return us to the “Paradise
Lost”. We, as readers, are now unsure that Achitophel needs only the power and the crown for himself.
Now it looks like his goal was to thoroughly destroy anything good and right in Absalom.

The story is horrifying and disgusting enough to let the readers decide that any King is better than
Achitophel’s pawn. Manipulating the audience with the help of the primal human fears and taboos, John
Dryden, without even showing King David (Charles II) persuades the readers that he is way, way better
than the Earl of Shaftesbury and anyone he decides to take under his wing.

Q3. Political allegory in AA

Symbol: Golden calf as symbol of misplaced veneration

In the biblical book of Exodus, the Israelites waited for Moses, their leader, who had gone in search of
enlightenment on Mount Sinai. During this time, without effective religious leadership, they made a
golden idol in the shape of a calf and began to worship it. The golden calf was not an appropriate subject
for the Israelites to worship. Dryden likens the English people's veneration of an institution of
government—a State that could be readily controlled by the people it governs—to the worship of the
golden calf, thereby indicating that such feelings of veneration were bad and inappropriate. The
ideological notion that kings ought to be constrained or limited by government is represented as
misguided.

Symbol: Crown as symbol of ruler, government, and divinely appointed authority

The text uses the word "crown" (as well as "diadem"), a decorative ornament associated with kings and
rulers, to represent the King, the government, and the legitimate authority as appointed by God. The
use of the same word to represent all these concepts ties them together and conflates them, inviting the
reader to assign to a government and to a human being the same authority they associate with their
deity.

Symbol: Flock of sheep as symbol for the people

The use of "sheep" to represent a community of people, with the leader as a wise shepherd, is generally
associated with Jesus leading his flock. It is used ironically here to tell an Old Testament story that is
intended as an allegory for political events occurring in England. The sheep represent the common
English people. It suggests that the people are easily swayed and led because they do not really think for
themselves.

Allegory: Rape as allegory for rebellion

This allegory has several layers (none of which ought to be construed as condoning actual rape).

Dryden sets forth a premise: sometimes people cannot admit to wanting something; rather, they prefer
to be forced into it. Therefore, by forcing such an individual into a situation he or she secretly desires,
the person doing the forcing is actually doing the "victim" a necessary and pleasing favor. Acting as a
satirist, Dryden exaggerates the argument into something so shocking that it ends up actually supporting
the opposite conclusion.

Dryden begins by observing that some women are, by nature, lascivious and desirous of sex, but they
cannot admit to it because of contemporary social standards. This is true: in Dryden's era, "good"
women were not supposed to admit to enjoying or wanting sex.

Next, Dryden suggests that, since the hypothetical woman in question really wants sex, forcing her into
it provides her with the experience she wants without compromising her image. This notion was just as
ridiculous in Dryden's era as it is now: nobody really likes or wants to be raped and it's an unpleasant
experience with lasting bad consequences.

Drawing from the first two ideas, Dryden links the image of the woman with the King, suggesting that
since the King may wish to be overthrown, rebelling against him would "commit a pleasing rape upon
the Crown". The conclusion is shocking, disgusting, and a little bit heretical. It also associates rebellion
with an inherently immoral and low act, arguing through satire that rape and rebellion are both
objectively bad.

Allegory: Bible story as allegory for the Exclusion Crisis

The entire poem, which tells the story of Absalom and Achitophel's rebellion against King David of Israel,
is an allegory of the events that occurred in England in the late 17th century. Dryden uses biblical
characters and events to comment upon the Exclusion Crisis and its major players, ultimately supporting
King Charles II in his right to the throne.

Above all else, Dryden’s poem is now an artistic rendering of what was, at the time, a potentially
explosive political debate. The Exclusion Crisis wreaked havoc in England from 1679-1681 as the
legitimate succession of James to the throne after his brother Charles II was being obstructed by the
Whigs on the basis of James’ Catholicism. Favoring an illegitimate son of Charles, the Duke of
Monmouth, the Whigs were squaring off against what, to Dryden, was not just the rights of one man,
but rather the very foundation of the transition of power which gave the British monarchy its authority.
Just as parodies of political figures and satirical treatments of political events on a show like Saturday
Night Live can wield influence over public opinion, so is literary satire a powerful form of propaganda. By
satirizing a very perilous subject, Dryden was not only aiming to influence the outcome: he was also
taking the steps best available to him to convince those in the public who might not “get” the
seriousness of the issue from straightforward coverage.

Charles's Fitness for the Throne

One of Dryden's main points in this allegory is that Charles is fit for the throne. He does not excuse his
faults, beginning the poem with a frank admission of Charles's propensity to sire illegitimate children
throughout the land and his discomfort with Charles's initial reluctance to step in to deal with
Monmouth, but he makes the case that that behavior does not stack up against Charles's legitimate
power as the rightful monarch. Through David's speech, Dryden makes it clear that Charles is
implementing the law, and that the law is above the people. Charles is its faithful arbiter and is keeping
the balance in the state. Even though, as critic Randy Robertson points out, Dryden begins the poem
with "Charles the father, the 'personal monarch,' who helps populate England with subjects," he ends
with the assertion that "law reigns above the king" and "the gavel comes down like an axe: Charles
metes out justice impersonally."