The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 12

In Short

This volume acts as a vast literary bridge, gathering together the poet’s masterful translations of classical antiquity alongside his vibrant modernizations of Chaucer. The collection ranges from the epic clash of Achilles and Agamemnon to the witty, often ribald, advice of Ovid’s Art of Love, and the rustic, earthy wisdom of The Nonnes Preestes Tale. By blending the high drama of the Iliad with the humbler, human-centered narratives of the Middle Ages, the work demonstrates how the most enduring stories can be made contemporary, proving that human passion, frailty, and wit remain constant across the centuries.

The Story

The volume opens with a scholarly and spirited preface on the art of translation, setting the stage for a journey that moves fluidly between the sacred and the profane. We are first invited into the pastoral landscapes of Theocritus, where the despairing lover laments his fate and the rhythms of rural life pulse with a quiet, persistent energy. From there, the perspective shifts to the philosophical rigor of Lucretius, whose exploration of the nature of things—from the chaotic birth of the world to the feverish, restless anatomy of human desire—provides a sobering counterpoint to the romantic elegies that follow.

The narrative arc then transitions into the heroic and the mythic. We witness the final, heart-wrenching parting of Hector and Andromache, a scene that grounds the monumental scale of the Iliad in the intimate, fragile bonds of a family standing on the precipice of ruin. This grandiosity is soon tempered by the transformative myths of Ovid. We follow the metamorphosis of bodies and souls: the transformation of Argus’s eyes into the vibrant plumage of a peacock, the tragic flight of Syrinx into reeds, and the miraculous gender-shifting story of Iphis and Ianthe, which moves from the tension of a father’s cruel demand to the divine intervention of Isis.

As the collection progresses, the tone shifts from the epic to the social, particularly through the inclusion of Chaucer’s tales. In The Knightes Tale, we are thrust into the majestic atmosphere of Theseus’s Athens, where the chivalric code dictates the boundaries of love and honor. The atmosphere lightens considerably with The Nonnes Preestes Tale, where a humble widow, living a simple life of "hertes suffisance," finds her world upended by the magnificent, vain, and ultimately foolish cock, Chaunteclere. The tale serves as a brilliant microcosm of human pride.

The journey concludes with the sharp, cynical, and instructional voice of Ovid’s Art of Love. Here, the poet instructs his readers in the mechanics of seduction, treating love as a strategy—a set of "rudiments" to be learned with the same precision as sailing a ship or driving a chariot. The volume closes by cycling back to the intense, destructive nature of love as described in Lucretius, where the "scorpion, love," is both a source of fleeting pleasure and a cause of profound, unquenchable agitation. By the final pages, the reader has traversed the entire spectrum of human experience: the nobility of the hero, the domestic quiet of the widow, the vanity of the beast, and the chaotic, uncontrollable force of desire that drives them all.

How It Unfolds

The classical introduction The volume begins by establishing the translator’s philosophy, advocating for a balance between lyrical beauty and the "majesty of thought." It prepares the reader for a journey that treats ancient texts not as static relics, but as living, breathing art.

The epic and the pastoral The narrative moves from the high stakes of Homeric warfare to the intimate, melancholic laments of Theocritus. This juxtaposition immediately establishes the book’s central tension: the pull between public glory and private feeling.

The metamorphosis of nature A significant portion of the volume is dedicated to Ovid’s tales, where the physical world is in constant flux. The narrative here is restless and fluid, reflecting the shifting identities and destinies of gods, heroes, and nymphs.

The chivalric and the domestic The focus turns to English soil, where the grandeur of Theseus’s court in The Knightes Tale provides a stark contrast to the small, soot-stained cottage of the widow in The Nonnes Preestes Tale. The narrative rhythm slows down to capture the earthy, idiomatic texture of these medieval stories.

The anatomy of desire The volume closes with an examination of the rules of love, moving from the instructional tone of Ovid’s Art of Love to the philosophical, almost clinical assessment of passion found in the translations from Lucretius.

The People

The figures appearing here are often archetypes caught in the grip of forces larger than themselves. Theseus, the conqueror, stands as a symbol of order and wisdom, though he is frequently interrupted by the cries of those burdened by injustice. In contrast, Chaunteclere the cock represents the absurdity of human ego; he is a creature of immense pride who believes his own voice dictates the movement of the stars, only to be brought low by his own vanity. Pertelote, his hen, provides the voice of common sense, yet she is tethered to the same fatal cycle of desire and instinct.

Then there is the Wife of Bath, a figure of formidable agency who navigates a world of "Faerie" and friars, constantly challenging the limitations placed upon her. In the classical sections, Ajax and Ulysses emerge as rivals for the mantle of the fallen Achilles. Ajax is the embodiment of raw, unthinking physical power, while Ulysses represents the "soft deceit" and intellectual cunning that ultimately triumphs over brawn. Finally, Dido appears as the tragic heart of the volume, her voice a piercing elegy for lost love, ungrateful partners, and the irreversible weight of a broken promise. These characters are not static; they are perpetually in the process of being defined by their choices, their losses, and their ultimate refusal to be anything other than human.

In Its Own Voice

The poet captures the immense weight of mythological change, where the boundaries between the human and the natural world are constantly blurred:

Before the seas, and this terrestrial ball, And heaven's high canopy, that covers all, One was the face of nature, if a face; Rather a rude and indigested mass.

Reflecting on the nature of love, the poet adopts a more cautionary, philosophical tone, warning against the restlessness of desire:

For love, and love alone of all our joys, By full possession does but fan the fire; The more we still enjoy, the more we still desire.

What It's Really About

At its core, this volume is an inquiry into the nature of transformation—both of the physical body and the human spirit. It asks how we reconcile our lofty, heroic aspirations with the small, often messy realities of daily existence. The text grapples with the tension between reason and rage, examining whether the "sovereign sway" of the mind can ever truly contain the "fiery dart" of human passion. It explores how stories, when retold through the ages, act as mirrors for our own fleeting lives, capturing the "indigested mass" of human experience and shaping it into something coherent, beautiful, and profoundly enduring. It is a meditation on why we love, why we fight, and how we struggle to maintain our dignity when the world around us—like the figures in Ovid’s myths—is constantly changing.

Why Read It Today

Reading this volume is an exercise in immersion. You are invited to witness the evolution of the English language as it flexes to accommodate the demands of both epic grandeur and the earthy, idiomatic humor of Chaucer. For the modern reader, the primary challenge will be the sheer density of the period’s verse, which demands a patient, attentive ear. You will encounter occasional archaic phrasings and a reliance on classical allusions that assume a high degree of prior knowledge, which can feel like an obstacle. Yet, there is a profound reward in the effort; the poet’s command of tone is exceptional, moving seamlessly from the tender sorrow of Andromache to the biting wit of a debate between a hero and a trickster.

You will come to this book for the breadth of its content—it is a library in a single volume—but you will stay for the humanity that permeates every page. Whether it is the biting, cynical advice on courtship or the deeply moving description of a swan singing its own elegy, the writing possesses a clarity and a vigor that feels remarkably alive. It is a work that remains with you long after you close it, reminding you that our modern anxieties and passions were being articulated with precision and grace centuries ago.