Don Sebastian by John Dryden

1/ The play is about Don Sebastian, the King of Portugal who has just been captured by Muley-Moluch, the Emperor of Barbary. In one plotline, Muley-Moluch is full of lust for Almeyda, another captive, whom Sebastian loves and who loves Sebastian. 

“MULEY-MOLUCH Death! must I beg the pity of my slave?

Must a king beg?—Yes; love’s a greater king;

A tyrant, nay, a devil, that possesses me:

He tunes the organs of my voice, and speaks,

Unknown to me, within me; pushes me,

And drives me on by force.” 

(Act 2 scene 1) 

In another plotline, Benducar, a favourite of the Emperor, wants to steal the throne with the help of the Emperor’s brother, Muley-Zeydan; he also wants to recruit Dorax, a noble Portuguese who hates Sebastian and has switched to Barbary’s side. 

2/ I love Dryden’s metaphors. 

“BENDUCAR […] His growth is but a wild and fruitless plant;

I’ll cut his barren branches to the stock,

And graft you on to bear.” 

(Act 1 scene 1) 

Look at this image: 

“MULEY-MOLUCH Ay; these look like the workmanship of heaven;

This is the porcelain clay of human kind,

And therefore cast into these noble moulds.” 

(ibid.) 

That’s when Muley-Moluch sees Don Sebastian and some other noblemen among the captives. The word “clay” is later repeated by Don Sebastian: 

“DON SEBASTIAN […] Fate was not mine,

Nor am I fate’s. Now I have pleased my longing,

And trod the ground which I beheld from far,

I beg no pity for this mouldering clay;

For, if you give it burial, there it takes

Possession of your earth;

If burnt and scattered in the air, the winds,

That strow my dust, diffuse my royalty,

And spread me o’er your clime: for where one atom

Of mine shall light, know, there Sebastian reigns.”

(ibid.) 

Dryden gives him grandeur and majesty. The King of Portugal also compares himself to the sun: 

“DON SEBASTIAN Then there’s no more to manage: if I fall,

It shall be like myself; a setting sun

Should leave a track of glory in the skies.—

Behold Sebastian, king of Portugal.

MULEY-MOLUCH Sebastian! ha! it must be he; no other

Could represent such suffering majesty.

I saw him, as he terms himself, a sun

Struggling in dark eclipse, and shooting day.” 

(ibid.) 

And the Emperor goes along with the sun metaphor. 

3/ I wrote about the clay metaphor said by Muley-Moluch and then by Sebastian. The word later appears again, in the comic plot: 

“DON ANTONIO […] Our northern beauties are mere dough to these; insipid white earth, mere tobacco pipe clay, with no more soul and motion in them than a fly in winter…” 

(Act 2 scene 2) 

Don Sebastian is tragedy but Dryden adds a comic plotline in prose, involving the Mufti Abdalla, Mustapha, and the slaves. It’s funny. Look at that moment when the Mufti presents Don Antonio, his newly bought slave, to his wife Johayma: 

“JOHAYMA […] I have always longed for an eunuch; for they say that’s a civil creature, and almost as harmless as yourself, husband.” 

(ibid.) 

Hahahaha. 

One thing I think English plays have over the ancient Greek plays and the French neoclassical plays is that Shakespeare and the others mix the tragic and the comic. That’s how life is. I generalise, so of course there are exceptions (a few Euripides plays perhaps), but generally speaking, the (neo)classical comedies have a light touch and a promise that all will be well, even when they hint at something dark; and the (neo)classical tragedies don’t really have a comic interlude, or comic relief. 

Like Shakespeare, Dryden does both tragedy and comedy very well. I also prefer him to William Congreve—there’s something crude and cynical about Congreve that I don’t particularly like, witty as he is. 

4/ Don Sebastian has some good female characters, especially Almeyda in the tragic plot and Morayma in the comic plot. Morayma is the Mufti’s daughter. Look at this scene between her and Don Antonio, a Portuguese and the Mufti’s slave: 

“DON ANTONIO I’ll marry thee, and make a Christian of thee, thou pretty damned infidel.

[…] 

DON ANTONIO I came with a Christian intention to revenge myself upon thy father, for being the head of a false religion.

MORAYMA And so you shall; I offer you his daughter for your second. But since you are so pressing, meet me under my window to-morrow night, body for body, about this hour; I’ll slip down out of my lodging, and bring my father in my hand.

DON ANTONIO How, thy father!

MORAYMA I mean, all that’s good of him; his pearls and jewels, his whole contents, his heart and soul; as much as ever I can carry!...” 

(Act 3 scene 2) 

Can anyone read or watch that without thinking of The Merchant of Venice? The differences, apart from the religion, are that Dryden switches the perspective, and that Morayma and Antonio seem much more pleasant than Jessica and the guy she runs off with. 

5/ There’s lots to like about Don Sebastian: I like the poetry; I like the characters; I like that Dryden can do both tragedy and comedy; I like that he explores power and politics. The problem is that I think Dryden tries to do so many things at once and the play ends up being a mess: there are three lines of action (the love story between Sebastian and Almeyda, the revolt, and the story of Don Antonio and the Mufti household). More importantly, Dryden builds up the action in such a way, as the love story of Sebastian and Almeyda is obstructed by multiple enemies and difficulties and barriers, that one wants a happy ending, and expects a happy ending, when the enemies are struck down and the barriers are removed. Instead, when all finally seems well, Dryden introduces a new obstruction (albeit previously hinted) and makes it all collapse, and the final Act becomes a kind of Oedipus the King. It’s messy, and unsatisfying.