Catholic Conversion and Incest in Dryden’s Don Sebastian

John Dryden’s decision to end his 1689 tragedy, Don Sebastian, with the discovery of an act of incest has persistently puzzled the play’s readers. The historical Sebastian almost certainly died in the battle which immediately precedes the events of the play; a slightly delayed death would therefore have been a logical conclusion to the play. Or, Dryden could have followed the traditions of romance and legend, which took hope from the fact that Sebastian’s body had never been found. These stories, which grew up among the Portuguese after they had been conquered by Spain in 1580, held that Sebastian had survived and would one day return to rule Portugal. Such legends no doubt played a role in Dryden’s decision to make Sebastian the subject of his first post-Glorious Revolution play. Dryden and other supporters of the recently exiled James II hoped that their lost sovereign would return to the throne someday.

Dryden, however, denies Sebastian an honorable death (or a dishonorable one, for that matter), and he denies him the option of one day returning to rule. In the play’s final scene, Sebastian and his Moorish wife, Almeyda, discover that they are half-siblings. The characters are stunned to find their moment of triumph transformed into tragedy. Sebastian is so stricken by the horror of his crime that he renounces his kingship, lest his incest “pollute the Throne” (5.1.538).¹ There will be no restoration of this exiled king. Dryden thus not only rewrites both history and romance, but does so in such a way as to undermine the Jacobite implications of Sebastian’s legend. Moreover, in the preface that was printed with the play in 1690, Dryden admits that he has “no right to blast his [Sebastian’s] memory with such a crime” and requests that his readers “think it no longer true, than while they are seeing it represented” (15: 68). When a playwright acknowledges that his most significant original contribution to his play is an act of slander, we may reasonably ask why he believed his fabrications were so important to the story he wished to tell.

I believe hints to an answer appear earlier in the same scene. Sebastian and Almeyda’s agonizing separation is preceded by the joyous reunion of the play’s comedic heroes, Antonio and Morayma. Although the fates of these two couples could not be more different, Antonio and Morayma’s dialogue—in which they tease each other about their irrepressible sexuality and lack of religious devotion—foreshadows the coming revelations of sexual sin and providential punishment. Morayma claims that in Portugal, churches serve primarily as places for men and women to rendezvous for affairs. Antonio affirms this is true, and adds,

I hear the Protestants an’t much reform’d in that point neither; for their Sectaries call their Churches by the naturall name of Meeting-houses. Therefore I warn thee in good time, not more of devotion than needs must, good future Spowse; and allways in a veile; for those eyes of thine are damn’d enemies to mortification.

(5.1.102–107)

To which Morayma replies,

The best thing I have heard of Christendom, is that we women are allow’d the priviledge of having Souls; and I assure you, I shall make bold to bestow mine, upon some Lover, when ever you begin to go astray, and, if I find no Convenience in a Church, a private Chamber will serve the turn.

(5.1.108–12)

The irreverent wit with which they discuss their relationship contrasts sharply with the tragic seriousness of Sebastian and Almeyda’s marriage. Yet Morayma’s impending conversion will expose her to new sexual temptations in Portugal, just as Almeyda’s recent conversion made possible her marriage to Sebastian and the incestuous crime they have committed.

As we shall soon see, this is not the first time in the play that Antonio and Morayma have used the terminology of religion to discuss sexual affairs, or vice versa. In fact, the play often associates courtship and marriage with religious choice, particularly in the...