The purpose and scope of "Mac-Flecnoe" was strangely misconstrued by the object of it, and by our poet's editors. Shadwell took it into his head, that Dryden meant seriously to tax him with being an Irishman; a charge which he seems more anxious to refute than seems necessary. Cibber, or whoever wrote Dryden's Life in the collection bearing his name, supposes, that Flecnoe, who died in 1678, had actually succeeded our author in the office of poet-laureat. Derrick, though he corrects this error, has fallen into another, in which he is followed by Dr Johnson, who considers "Mac-Flecnoe" as written in express ridicule of Shadwell's inauguration as court poet. The scarcity of the first edition of "Mac-Flecnoe" might have been some excuse for these errors, had not the piece been printed in the first Miscellany, in 1684, four years before Dryden's being deposed, and Shadwell succeeding him. Certainly the two events tallied strangely; and the friends of Shadwell might have considered the substantial office which he gained by the downfall of Dryden, as a just compensation for the ludicrous and mock dignity with which his foe had invested him.
[Footnote 411: See the whole passage, Vol. VII. p. 141. note.]
[Footnote 412: See the Remarks on the Empress of Morocco, written in conjunction by Dryden, Crown, and Shadwell. They were printed in 1674.]
[Footnote 413: These circumstances of offence occur in the prologue, epilogue, and preface to the "Virtuoso," which must have been acted in the same season with "Aureng-Zebe," as the dedication is dated 26th June, 1676. The prologue commences with an irreverend allusion to that play, and to our author's theatrical engagements:
You came with such an eager appetite To a late play, which gave so great delight, Our poet fears, that by so rich a treat Your palates are become too delicate. Yet since you've had rhyme for a relishing bit, To give a better taste to comic wit; But this requires expence of time and pains, Too great, alas! for poets' slender gains. For wit, like china, should long buried lie, Before it ripens to good comedy; A thing we ne'er have seen since Jonson's days, And but a few of his were perfect plays. Now drudges of the stage must oft appear, They must be bound to scribble twice a year.