Poem: Absalom and Achitophel

Occasion and Allegory
John Dryden’s Absalom and Achitophel (1681) is a political satire in heroic couplets that recasts the English Exclusion Crisis as a biblical drama. King David stands for Charles II; his charismatic, illegitimate son Absalom is the Duke of Monmouth; and the scheming counselor Achitophel represents Anthony Ashley Cooper, the Earl of Shaftesbury, leader of the Whig push to exclude the Catholic Duke of York from the succession. Dryden fuses scriptural narrative with Restoration politics to argue for hereditary monarchy, expose factional manipulation, and defend royal clemency against populist agitation stoked by the recent Popish Plot scare.

Plot and Design
The poem opens with a portrait of national prosperity under David, shadowed by the king’s excessive indulgence in love and amusement. From this softness arises Absalom, a natural son whose beauty, valor, and gift for charming the multitude make him the darling of the people. Seeing the king’s popularity waver and the realm restless, Achitophel discerns an opportunity: he will redirect the public’s fears and hopes toward elevating Absalom in defiance of the lineal heir.

Dryden’s Achitophel is brilliant, resentful, and implacably ambitious. Cloaking private revenge as public virtue, he whispers to Absalom that the kingdom groans under misrule, that the heir threatens tyranny, and that the people already yearn for Absalom’s leadership. He flatters the prince’s compassion, urges him to “rescue” liberty, and promises a coalition of city zealots, sectarian preachers, and discontented grandees. Absalom, torn between filial duty and popular acclaim, is not naturally wicked; he is susceptible to being made the instrument of others’ designs.

Factions and Characters
Dryden parades a gallery of types and portraits to map the political field. Zimri, a mercurial satiric sketch of the Duke of Buckingham, flits from cause to cause, all wit and no constancy. Corah, unmistakably Titus Oates, feeds the nation’s appetite for fabricated plots and perjured revelations. Shimei rails from the streets, the voice of rancorous civic republicanism. Through these figures Dryden shows how rumor, vanity, and zealotry escalate grievance into sedition. Against them stands Hushai, representing the moderate counselor Halifax, whose eloquent prudence rebukes faction and counsels the king toward tempered firmness.

David’s Case and the Poem’s Argument
The poem’s center of gravity shifts to David himself, who addresses his people and the court. He defends hereditary succession as the only stable shield against anarchy, insisting that a king may not disinherit a lawful heir to appease changeable crowds or partisan fear. He acknowledges his tenderness toward Absalom and distinguishes between the deluded and the malignant. Mercy remains open to the misguided son; justice is reserved for those who knowingly subvert the commonwealth by counterfeit revelations and factious agitation. Dryden’s couplets turn declarative and judicial, pressing the claim that elective monarchy by tumult is a mask for oligarchic ambition.

Resolution and Significance
Achitophel’s contrivance falters as the king asserts authority, exposes perjurers, and dissolves the enchantments of panic. The coalition frays; Absalom, though rebuked, is treated as a beloved but erring child rather than an enemy. By ending with clemency toward the prince and censure of the ringleaders, Dryden aims both to rally royalist opinion and to isolate Shaftesbury’s designs. The satire’s brilliance lies less in narrative suspense than in its moral architecture: dazzling character sketches, a measured royal apologia, and a sustained demonstration of how private ambition weaponizes public fear. Written at a moment when rumor could unmake governments, the poem argues that lawful succession and tempered sovereignty are the nation’s best defense against the volatility of faction and the seductive music of a popular favorite.