of perpetual spring festival soon became an era of brainless
indecency. Even the wit of the Restoration was bitter, acid, sardonic
(as Charles's own death-bed apology for being an unconscionable time
a-dying). Generally it was ill-tempered, and employed to inflict pain.
And there was not even wit in most of the plays. It is hard to see what
even the worst age could discover to laugh at in Shadwell's _Libertine_,
the story of Don Juan told in English, and, in a sense, made the most
of.

Because of their nastiness, often combined with stupidity, the
Restoration dramas will never be resurrected. There is another reason.
The glorious Elizabethan era and spirit were gone; the eighteenth
century was coming on fast. Dryden and his fellows had noble rules for
the construction of plays, and nobler ones for the language that might
or might not be used. They derived all their rules, if you please, from
"the ancients." Like Voltaire, they reckoned Shakespeare a barbarian
with native wood-notes wild. They took his plays and "made them into
plays." They improved _The Tempest_, _Timon of Athens_, _The Midsummer
Night's Dream_, and goodness knows how many more. Davenant, in search of
material for entertainments, began it; Dryden continued it; even
Shadwell had his dirty fingers in it. And this matters to us, for some
of Purcell's most glorious songs, choruses and instrumental pieces were
composed for these desecrations, and can never again be listened to
under the conditions he had in his mind.

According to some authorities ("The Dictionary of National Biography"
amongst them), the first play handled by Purcell was Lee's _Sophonisba;
or, The Overthrow of Hannibal_; according to others, the first was
_Theodosius; or, The Force of Love_. Both, however, date not later than
1685, which is near enough for either when there is nothing like
conclusive evidence as to which had the priority. The music for the
first plays is in no way bound up with the plays. It consists of
instrumental pieces and songs literally interpolated. It is likely
enough that tunes written for one play were often enough used for
another. The pieces were brief, but the unmistakable Purcellian mingling
of strength and sweetness is to be found even in such trifles. In 1690
and later Purcell took full advantage of masques which were inserted,
the interpolations being sometimes as long as the rest of the play, and
artistically of infinitely greater value. For the present h