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The Arte of English Poesie

by George Puttenham · English · Gutenberg #16420 · 598,872 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Arte of English Poesie

Author: George Puttenham


        
Release date: August 3, 2005 [eBook #16420]
                Most recently updated: December 12, 2020

Language: English

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Produced by Bibliothèque nationale de France, Greg Lindahl,
Charles Bidwell and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at https://www.pgdp.net






THE ARTE

OF ENGLISH

POESIE.


Contriued into three Bookes: The first of Poets and Poesie,
the second of Proportion, the third of Ornament.

[Illustration: AN CHORA SPEI (shield with hand coming out of a cloud and
holding onto an anchor entwined with vine)]

AT LONDON

Printed by Richard Field,
dwelling in the black-Friers, neere Ludgate.
1589.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE SIR WILLIAM CECILL KNIGHT,
LORD OF BVRGHLEY, LORD HIGH TREASVRER OF ENGLAND, R.F.

Printer wisheth health and prosperitie, with the commandement
and vse of his continuall seruice.




_This Booke (right Honorable) coming to my handes, with his bare title
without any Authours name or any other ordinarie addresse, I doubted how
well it might become me to make you a present thereof, seeming by many
expresse passages in the same at large, that it was by the Authour
intended to our Soueraigne Lady the Queene, and for her recreation and
seruice chiefly deuised, in which case to make any other person her
highnes partener in the honour of his guift it could not stand with my
dutie, nor be without some prejudice to her Maiesties interest and his
merrite. Perceyuing besides the title to purport so slender a subiect, as
nothing almost could be more discrepant from the grauitie of your yeeres
and Honorable function, whose contemplations are euery houre more
seriously employed upon the publicke administration and services:
I thought it no condigne gratification, nor scarce any good satisfaction
for such a person as you. Yet when I considered, that bestowing vpon your
Lordship the first vewe of this mine impression (a feat of mine owne
simple facultie) it could not scypher her Maiesties honour or prerogatiue
in the guift, nor yet the Authour of his thanks: and seeing the thing it
selfe to be a deuice of some noueltie (which commonly it giveth euery good
thing a speciall grace) and a noueltie so highly tending to the most
worthy prayses of her Maiesties most excellent name. So deerer to you I
dare conceiue them any worldly thing besides love although I could not
deuise to have presented your Lordship any gift more agreeable to your
appetite, or fitter for my vocation and abilitie to bestow, your Lordship
beyng learned and a louer of learning, my present a Book and my selfe a
printer alwaies ready and desirous to be at your Honourable commaundement.
And thus I humbly take my leave from the Black-friers, this xxvii of May,
1589._

  Your Honours most humble
  at commaundement,

  _R.F._



_A colei_

[Illustration of Queen holding orb and sceptre.]

_Che se stessa rassomiglia & non altrui._




  THE FIRST BOOKE,
  _Of Poets and Poesie.




  _CHAP. I._

_What a Poet and Poesie is, and who may be worthily sayd the most
excellent Poet of our time._


A Poet is as much to say as a maker. And our English name well conformes
with the Greeke word: for of [Greek: poiein] to make, they call a maker
_Poeta_. Such as (by way of resemblance and reuerently) we may say of God:
who without any trauell to his diuine imagination, made all the world of
nought, nor also by any paterne or mould as the Platonicks with their
Idees do phantastically suppose. Euen so the very Poet makes and contriues
out of his owne braine both the verse and matter of his poeme, and not by
any foreine copie or example, as doth the translator, who therefore may
well be sayd a versifier, but not a Poet. The premises considered, it
giueth to the name and profession no smal dignitie and preheminence aboue
all other artificers, Scientificke or Mechanicall. And neuerthelesse
without any repugnancie at all, a Poet may in some sort be said a follower
or imitator, because he can expresse the true and liuely of euery thing is
set before him, and which he taketh in hand to describe: and so in that
respect is both a maker and a counterfaitor: and Poesiean art not only of
making, but also of imitation. And this science in his perfection, can not
grow, but by some diuine instinct, the Platonicks call it _furor_: or by
excellencie of nature and complexion: or by great subtiltie of the spirits
& wit or by much experience and obseruation of the world, and course of
kinde, or peradventure by all or most part of them. Otherwise how was it
possible that _Homer_ being but a poore priuate man, and as some say, in
his later age blind, should so exactly set foorth and describe, as if he
had bene a most excellent Captaine or Generall, the order and array of
battels, the conduct of whole armies, the sieges and assaults of cities
and townes? or as some great Princes maiordome and perfect Surueyour in
Court, the order, sumptuousnesse and magnificence of royal bankers,
feasts, weddings, and enteruewes? or as a Polititian very prudent, and
much inured with the priuat and publique affaires, so grauely examine the
lawes and ordinances Ciuill, or so profoundly discourse in matters of
estate, and formes of all politique regiment? Finally how could he so
naturally paint out the speeches, countenance and maners of Princely
persons and priuate, to wit, the wrath of _Achilles_, the magnanimitie of
_Agamemnon_, the prudence of _Menelaus_, the prowesse of _Hector_, the
maiestie of king _Priamus_, the grauitie of _Nestor_, the pollicies and
eloquence of _Vlysses_, the calamities of the distressed _Queenes_, and
valiance of all the Captaines and aduenturous knights in those lamentable
warres of Troy? It is therefore of Poets thus to be conceiued, that if
they be able to deuise and make all these things of them selues, without
any subiect of veritie, that they be (by maner of speech) as creating
gods. If they do it by instinct diuine or naturall, then surely much
fauoured from aboue. If by their experience, then no doubt very wise men.
If by any president or paterne layd before them, then truly the most
excellent imitators & counterfaitors of all others. But you (Madame) my
most Honored and Gracious: if I should seeme to offer you this my deuise
for a discipline and not a delight, I might well be reputed, of all others
the most arrogant and iniurious: your selfe being alreadie, of any that I
know in our time, the most excellent Poet. Forsooth by your Princely
pursefauours and countenance, making in maner what ye list, the poore man
rich, the lewd well learned, the coward couragious, and vile both noble
and valiant. Then for imitation no lesse, your person as a most cunning
counterfaitor liuely representing _Venus_ in countenance, in life _Diana,
Pallas_ for gouernement, and _Iuno_ in all honour and regall magnificence.




  _CHAP. II._

_That there may be an Art of our English Poesie, as well as there is of
the Latine and Greeke._


Then as there was no art in the world till by experience found
out: so if Poesie be now an Art, & of al antiquitie hath bene among
the Greeks and Latines, & yet were none, vntill by studious
persons fashioned and reduced into a method of rules & precepts,
then no doubt may there be the like with vs. And if th'art of Poesie
be but a skill appertaining to vtterance, why may not the same
be with vs as wel as with them, our language being no lesse copious
pithie and significatiue then theirs, our conceipts the same, and our
wits no lesse apt to deuise and imitate then theirs were? If againe
Art be but a certaine order of rules prescribed by reason, and gathered
by experience, why should not Poesie be a vulgar Art with
vs as well as with the Greeks and Latines, our language admitting
no fewer rules and nice diuersities then theirs? but peraduenture
moe by a peculiar, which our speech hath in many things differing
from theirs: and yet in the generall points of that Art, allowed to
go in common with them: so as if one point perchance which is
their feete whereupon their measures stand, and in deede is all the
beautie of their Poesie, and which feete we haue not, nor as yet neuer
went about to frame (the nature of our language and wordes
not permitting it) we haue in stead thereof twentie other curious
points in that skill more then they euer had, by reason of our rime
and tunable concords or simphonie, which they neuer obserued.
Poesie therefore may be an Art in our vulgar, and that verie methodicall
and commendable.




  _CHAP. III._

_How Poets were the first priests, the first prophets, the first
Legislators and politicians in the world._


The profession and vse of Poesie is most ancient from the beginning, and
not as manie erroniously suppose, after, but before any ciuil society was
among men. For if it was first that Poesie was th'originall cause and
occasion of their first assemblies; when before the people remained in the
woods and mountains, vagarant and dipersed like the wild beasts; lawlesse
and naked, or verie ill clad, and of all good and necessarie prouision for
harbour or sustenance vtterly vnfurnished: so as they litle diffred for
their maner of life, from the very brute beasts of the field. Whereupon it
is fayned that _Amphion_ and _Orpheus_, two Poets of the first ages, one
of them, to wit _Amphion_, builded vp cities, and reared walles with the
stones that came in heapes to the sound of his harpe, figuring thereby the
mollifying of hard and stonie hearts by his sweete and eloquent
perswasion. And _Orpheus_ assembled the wilde beasts to come in heards to
harken to his musicke and by that meanes made them tame, implying thereby,
how by his discreete and wholesome lessons vttered in harmonie and with
melodious instruments, he brought the rude and sauage people to a more
ciuill and orderly life, nothing as it seemeth, more preuailing or fit to
redresse and edifie the cruell and sturdie courage of man then it. And as
these two Poets and _Linus_ before them, and _Museus_ also and _Hesiodus_
in Greece and Archadia: so by all likelihood had mo Poets done in other
places and in other ages before them, though there be no remembrance left
of them, by reason of the Recordes by some accident of time perished and
failing. Poets therfore are of great antiquitie. Then forasmuch as they
were the first that entended to the obseruation of nature and her works,
and specially of the Celestiall courses, by reason of the continuall
motion of the heauens, searching after the first mouer, and from thence by
degrees comming to know and consider of the substances separate &
abstract, which we call the diuine intelligences or good Angels
_(Demones)_ they were the first that instituted sacrifices of placation,
with inuocations and worship to them, as to Gods; and inuented and
stablished all the rest of the obseruances and ceremonies of religion, and
so were the first Priests and ministers of the holy misteries. And because
for the better execution of that high charge and function, it behoued than
to live chast, and in all holines of life, and in continuall studie and
contemplation: they came by instinct divine, and by deepe meditation, and
much abstinence (the same assubtiling and refining their spirits) to be
made apt to receaue visions, both waking and sleeping, which made them
vtter prophesies, and foretell things to come. So also were they the first
Prophetes or seears, _Vidontes_, for so the Scripture tearmeth them in
Latine after the Hebrue word, and all the oracles and answers of the gods
were giuen in meeter or verse, and published to the people by their
direction. And for that they were aged and graue men, and of much wisedome
and experience in th'affaires of the world, they were the first lawmakers
to the people, and the first polititiens, deuising all expedient meanes
for th'establishment of Common wealth, to hold and containe the people in
order and duety by force and virtue of good and wholesome lawes, made for
the preseruation of the publique peace and tranquillitie. The same
peraduenture not purposely intended, but greatly furthered by the aw of
their gods, and such scruple of conscience, as the terrors of their late
inuented religion had led them into.




  _CHAP. IIII._

_How the Poets were the first Philosophers, the first Astronomers and
Historiographers and Oratours and Musiciens of the world._


Vtterance also and language is giuen by nature to man for perswasion of
others, and aide of them selues, I meane the first abilite to speake. For
speech it selfe is artificiall and made by man, and the more pleasing it
is, the more it preuaileth to such purpose as it is intended for: but
speech by meeter is a kind of vtterance, more cleanly couched and more
delicate to the eare then prose is, because it is more currant and slipper
vpon the tongue, and withal tunable and melodious, as a kind of Musicke,
and therfore may be tearmed a musicall speech or vtterance, which cannot
but please the hearer very well. Another cause is, for that it is briefer
& more compendious, and easier to beare away and be retained in memorie,
then that which is contained in multitude of words and full of tedious
ambage and long periods. It is beside a maner of vtterance more eloquent
and rethoricall then the ordinarie prose, which we use in our daily talke:
because it is decked and set out with all manner of fresh colours and
figures, which maketh that it sooner inuegleth the iudgement of man, and
carieth his opinion this way and that, whither soeuer the heart by
impression of the eare shal be most affectionatly bent and directed. The
vtterance in prose is not of so great efficacie, because not only it is
dayly vsed, and by that occasion the eare is ouerglutted with it, but is
also not so voluble and slipper vpon the tong, being wide and lose, and
nothing numerous, nor contriued into measures, and sounded with so gallant
and harmonical accents, nor in fine alowed that figuratiue conueyance, nor
so great licence in choise of words and phrases as meeter is. So as the
Poets were also from the beginning the best perswaders and their eloquence
the first Rethoricke of the world. Euen so it became that the high
mysteries of the gods should be reuealed & taught, by a maner of vtterance
and language of extraordinarie phrase, and briefe and compendious, and
aboue al others sweet and ciuill as the Metricall is. The same also was
meetest to register the liues and noble gests of Princes, and of the great
Monarkes of the world, and all other the memorable accidents of time: so
as the Poet was also the first historiographer. Then for as much as they
were the first obseruers of all naturall causes & effects in the things
generable and corruptible, and from thence mounted vp to search after the
celestiall courses and influences, & yet penetrated further to know the
diuine essences and substances separate, as is sayd before, they were the
first Astronomers and Philosophists and Metaphisicks. Finally, because
they did altogether endeuor themselues to reduce the life of man to a
certaine method of good maners, and made the first differences betweene
vertue and vice, and then tempered all these knowledges and skilles with
the exercise of a delectable Musicke by melodious instruments, which
withall serued them to delight their hearers, & to call the people
together by admiration, to a plausible and vertuous conuersation,
therefore were they the first Philosophers Ethick, & the first artificial
Musiciens of the world. Such was _Linus, Orpheus, Amphion & Museus_ the
most ancient Poets and Philosophers, of whom there is left any memorie by
the prophane writers King _Dauid_ also & _Salomon_ his sonne and many
other of the holy Prophets wrate in meeters, and vsed to sing them to the
harpe, although to many of vs ignorant of the Hebrue language and phrase,
and not obseruing it, the same seeme but a prose. It can not bee therefore
that anie scorn or indignitie should iustly be offred to so noble,
profitable, ancient and diuine a science as Poesie is.




  _CHAP. V._

_How the wilde and sauage people vsed a naturall Poesie in versicte and
time as our vulgar is._


And the Greeke and Latine Poesie was by verse numerous and metricall,
running vpon pleasant feete, sometimes swift, sometime slow (their words
very aptly seruing that purpose) but without any rime or tunable concord
in th'end of their verses, as we and all other nations now use. But the
Hebrues & Chaldees who were more ancient then the Greekes, did not only
use a metricall Poesie, but also with the same a maner or rime, as hath
bene of late obserued by learned men. Wherby it appeareth, that our vulgar
running Poesie was common to all the nations of the world besides, whom
the Latines and Greekes in speciall called barbarous. So as it was
notwithstanding the first and most ancient Poesie, and the most
vniuersall, which two points do otherwise giue to all humane inuentions
and affaires no small credit. This is proued by certificate of marchants &
trauellers, who by late nauigations haue surueyed the whole world, and
discouered large countries and strange peoples wild and sauage, affirming
that the American, the Perusine & the very Canniball, do sing and also
say, their highest and holiest matters in certaine riming versicles and
not in prose, which proues also that our maner of vulgar Poesie is more
ancient then the artificiall of the Greeks and Latines, ours comming by
instinct of nature, which was before Art or obseruation, and vsed with the
sauage and vnciuill, who were before all science or ciuilitie, euen as the
naked by prioritie of time is before the clothed, and the ignorant before
the learned. The naturall Poesie therefore being aided and amended by Art,
and not vtterly altered or obscured, but some signe left of it, (as the
Greekes and Latines haue left none) is no lesse to be allowed and
commended then theirs.




  _CHAP. VI_.

_How the riming Poesie came first to the Grecians and Latines, and had
altered and almost split their maner of Poesie_.


But it came to passe, when fortune fled farre from the Greekes and
Latines, & that their townes florished no more in traficke, nor their
Vniuersities in learning as they had done continuing those Monarchies: the
barbarous conquerers inuading them with innumerable swarmes of strange
nations, the Poesie metricall of the Grecians and Latines came to be much
corrupted and altered, in so much as there were times that the very
Greekes and Latines themselues tooke pleasure in Riming verses, and vsed
it as a rare and gallant thing: Yea their Oratours proses nor the Doctors
Sermons were acceptable to Princes nor yet to the common people vnlesse it
went in manner of tunable rime or metricall sentences, as appeares by many
of the auncient writers, about that time and since. And the great Princes,
and Popes, and Sultans would one salute and greet an other sometime in
frendship and sport, sometime in earnest and enmitie by ryming verses, &
nothing seemed clerkly done, but must be done in ryme: Whereof we finde
diuers examples from the time of th'Emperours Gracian & Valentinian
downwardes; For then aboutes began the declination of the Romain Empire,
by the notable inundations of the _Hunnes_ and _Vandalles_ in Europe,
vnder the conduict of _Totila_ & _Atila_ and other their generalles. This
brought the ryming Poesie in grace, and made it preuaile in Italie and
Greece (their owne long time cast aside, and almost neglected) till after
many yeares that the peace of Italie and of th'Empire Occidentall reuiued
new clerkes, who recouering and perusing the bookes and studies of the
ciuiler ages, restored all maner of arts, and that of the Greeke and
Latine Poesie withall into their former puritie and netnes. Which
neuerthelesse did not so preuaile, but that the ryming Poesie of the
Barbarians remained still in his reputation, that one in the schole, this
other in Courts of Princes more ordinary and allowable.




_CHAP VII._

_How in the time of Charlemaine and many yeares after him the Latine
Poetes wrote in ryme._


And this appeareth euidently by the workes of many learned men, who wrote
about the time of _Charlemaines_ raigne in the Empire _Occidentall_, where
the Christian Religion, became through the excessive authoritie of Popes,
and deepe deuotion of Princes strongly fortified and established by
erection of orders _Monastical_ in which many simple clerks for deuotion
sake & sanctitie were receiued more then for any learning, by which
occasion & the solitarinesse of their life, waxing studious without
discipline or instruction by any good methode, some of them grew to be
historiographers, some Poets, and following either the barbarous rudenes
of the time, or els their own idle inuentions, all that they wrote to the
fauor or prayse of Princes, they did it in such maner of minstrelsie, and
thought themselues no small fooles, when they could make their verses goe
all in ryme as did the Schoole of _Salerno_, dedicating their booke of
medicinall rules vnto our king of England, with this beginning.
  _Anglorum Regi scripsit tota schola Salerni
  Sivus incolumem, sivis te reddere sanicari
  Curas tolle graues, irasci crede prophanum
  Necretine ventram nec stringas as fortiter annum._

And all the rest that follow throughout the whole booke more curiously
than cleanely, neuerthelesse very well to the purpose of their arte. In
the same time king _Edward_ the iij. him selfe quartering the Armes of
England and France, did discouer his pretence and clayme to the Crowne of
Fraunce, in these ryming verses.
  _Rex sum regnorum bina ratione duorum
  Anglorum regnio sum rex ego iure paterno
  Matris iure quidem Francorum nuncupor idem
  Hinc est armorum variatio facta meorum._

Which verses _Philip de Valois_ then possessing the Crowne as next heire
male by pretexte of the law _Salique_, and holding our _Edward_ the third,
aunswered in these other of as good stuffe.
  _Prædo regnorum qui diceris esse duorum
  Regno materno priuaberis atque paterno
  Prolis ius nullum ubi matris non fuit vllum
  Hinc est armorum variatio stulta tuorum._

It is found written of Pope _Lucius_, for his great auarice and tyranny
vsed ouer the Clergy thus in ryming verses.
  _Lucius est piscis rex et tyrannus aquarum
  A quo discordat Lucius iste parum
  Deuorat hic hom homines, his piscibus insidiatur
  Esurit hic semper hic aliquando satur
  Amborum vitam si laus aquata notaret
  Plus rationis habet qui ratione caret._

And as this was vsed in the greatest and gayest matters of Princes and
Popes by the idle inuention of Monasticall men then raigning al in their
superlative. So did every scholer & secular clerke or versifier, when he
wrote any short poeme or matter of good lesson put it in ryme, whereby it
came to passe that all your old Proverbes and common sayinges, which they
would have plausible to the reader and easy to remember and beare away,
were of that sorte as these.
  _In mundo mira faciunt duo nummias & ira
  Molleficant dura peruertunt omnia iura._

And this verse in disprayse of the Courtiers life following the Court of
Rome.
  _Vita palatina dura est animaque ruina._

And these written by a noble learned man.
  _Ire redire fequi regum sublimia castra
  Eximiius status est, sed non sic itur ad astra._

And this other which to the great injurie of all women was written (no
doubt by some forlorne lover, or else some old malicious Monke) for one
woman's sake blemishing the whole sex.
  _Fallere stere nere mentari nilque tacere
  Haec qumque vere statuit Deus in muliere._

If I might have bene his Iudge, I would have had him for his labour serued
as _Orpheus_ was by the women of Thrace. His eyes to be picket out with
pinnes for his so deadly belying of them, or worse handled if worse could
be deuised. But will ye see how God raised a revenger for the silly
innocent women, for about the same ryming age came an honest civill
Courtier somewhat bookish, and wrate these verses against the whole rable
of Monkes.
  _O Monachi vestri stomachi sunt amphor a Bacchi
  Vos estos Deis est restes turpissima pestis._

Anon after came your secular Priestes as jolly rymers as the rest, who
being sore agreeued with their Pope _Calixtus_, for that he had enjoyned
them from their wives,& railed as fast against him.
  _O bone Calixte totus mundus perodit te
  Quondam Presbiteri, poterant vxoribus vti
  Hoc destruxisti, postquam tu Papa fursti._

Thus what in writing of rymes and registring of lyes was the Clergy of
that fabulous age wholly occupied.

We finde some but very few of these ryming verses among the Latines of the
ciuiller ages, and those rather hapning by chaunce then of any purpose in
the writer, as this _Distick_ among the disportes of _Ouid_.
  _Quot coem stellas tot habet tua Roma puellas
  Pascua quotque haedos tot habet tua Roma Cynedos,_

The posteritie taking pleasure in this manner of _Simphonie_ had leasure
as it seemes to deuise many other knackes in their versifying that the
auncient and ciuill Poets had not vfed before, whereof one was to make
euery word of a verse to begin with the same letter, as did _Hugobald_ the
Monke who made a large poeme to the honour of _Carolus Caluus_, euery word
beginning with _C._ which was the first letter of the king's name thus.
  _Carmina clarisona Caluis cantate camenæ._

And this was thought no small peece of cunning, being in deed a matter of
some difficultie to finde out so many wordes beginning with one letter as
might make a iust volume, though in truth it were but a phantasticall
deuise and to no purpose at all more then to make them harmonicall to the
rude eares of those barbarous ages.

Another of their pretie inuentions was to make a verse of such wordes as
by their nature and manner of construction and situation might be turned
backward word by word, and make another perfit verse, but of quite
contrary sence as the gibing Monke that wrote of Pope _Alexander_ these
two verses.
  _Laus tua non tua fraus, virtus non copia rerum,
  Scandere te faciunt hoc decus eximium._

Which if ye will turne backward they make two other good verses, but of a
contrary sence, thus.
  _Eximium decus hoc faciunt te scandere rerum
  Copia, non virtus, fraus tua non tua laus._

And they called it _Verse Lyon_.

Thus you may see the humors and appetites of men how diuers and
chaungeable they be in liking new fashions, though many tymes worse then
the old, and not onely in the manner of their life and vse of their
garments, but also in their learninges and arts, and specially of their
languages.




  _CHAP. VIII._

_In what reputation Poesie and Poets were in old time with Princes and
otherwise generally, and how they be now become contemptible and for what
causes._


For the respectes aforesayd in all former ages and in the most ciuill
countreys and commons wealthes, good Poets and Poesie were highly esteemed
and much fauoured of the greatest Princes. For proofe whereof we read how
much _Amyntas_ king of _Macedonia_ made of the Tragicall Poet _Euripides_.
And the _Athenians_ of _Sophocles_. In what price the noble poemes of
_Homer_ were holden with _Alexander_ the great, in so much as euery night
they were layd vnder his pillow, and by day were carried in the rich
iewell cofer of _Darius_ lately before vanquished by him in battaile. And
not onely _Homer_ the father and Prince of the Poets was so honored by
him, but for his sake all other meaner Poets, in so much as _Cherillus_
one no very great good Poet had for euery verse well made a _Phillips_
noble of gold, amounting in value to an angell English, and so for euery
hundreth verses (which a cleanely pen could speedely dispatch) he had a
hundred angels. And since _Alexander_ the great how _Theocritus_ the
Greeke Poet was fauored by _Tholomee_ king of Egipt & Queene _Berenice_
his wife, _Ennius_ likewise by _Scipio_ Prince of the _Romaines_,
_Virgill_ also by th'Emperour _Augustus_. And in later times how much were
_Iehan de Mehune_ & _Guillaume de Loris_ made of by the French kinges, and
_Geffrey Chaucer_ father of our English Poets by _Richard_ the second, who
as it was supposed gaue him the maner of new Holme in Oxfordshire. And
_Gower_ to _Henry_ the fourth, and _Harding_ to _Edward_ the fourth. Also
how _Frauncis_ the Frenche king made _Sangelais, Salmonius, Macrinus_, and
_Clement Marot_ of his priuy Chamber for their excellent skill in vulgare
and Latine Poesie. And king _Henry_ the 8. her _Maiesties_ father for a
few Psalmes of _Dauid_ turned into English meetre by Sternhold, made him
groome of his priuy chamber, & gaue him many other good gifts. And one
_Gray_ what good estimation did he grow vnto with the same king _Henry_,
& afterward with the Duke of Sommerset Protectour, for making certaine
merry Ballades, whereof one chiefly was, _The hunte is vp, the hunte is
up_. And Queene _Mary_ his daughter for one _Epithalamie_ or nuptiall song
made by _Vargas_ a Spanish Poet at her mariage with king _Phillip_ in
Winchester gaue him during his life two hundred Crownes pension: nor this
reputation was giuen them in auncient times altogether in respect that
Poesie was a delicate arte, and the Poets them selues cunning
Princepleasers, but for that also they were thought for their vniuersall
knowledge to be very sufficient men for the greatest charges in their
common wealthes, were it for counsell or for conduct, whereby no man neede
to doubt but that both skilles may very well concurre and be most
excellent in one person. For we finde that _Iulius Cæsar_ the first
Emperour and a most noble Captaine, was not onely the most eloquent Orator
of his time, but also a very good Poet, though none of his doings therein
be now extant. And _Quintus Catulus_ a good Poet, and _Cornelius Gallus_
treasurer of Egipt, and _Horace_ the most delicate of all the Romain
_Lyrickes_, was thought meete and by many letters of great instance
prouoked to be Secretarie of estate to _Augustus_ th'Emperour, which
neuerthelesse he refused for his vnhealthfulnesse sake, and being a quiet
mynded man and nothing ambitious of glory: _non voluit accedere ad
Rempublicam_, as it is reported. And _Ennius_ the Latine Poet was not as
some perchaunce thinke, onely fauored by _Scipio_ the _Africane_ for his
good making of verses, but vsed as his familiar and Counsellor in the
warres for his great knowledge and amiable conuersation. And long before
that _Antinienides_ and other Greeke Poets, as _Aristotle_ reportes in his
Politiques, had charge in the warres. And _Firteus_ the Poet being also a
lame man & halting vpon one legge, was chosen by the Oracle of the gods
from the _Athenians_ to be generall of the _Lacedemonians_ armie, not for
his Poetrie, but for his wisedome and graue perswasions, and subtile
Stratagemes whereby he had the victory ouer his enemies. So as the Poets
seemed to haue skill not onely in the subtilties of their arte, but also
to be meete for all maner of functions ciuill and martiall, euen as they
found fauour of the times they liued in, insomuch as their credit and
estimation generally was not small. But in these dayes (although some
learned Princes may take delight in them) yet vniuersally it is not so.
For as well Poets as Poesie are despised, & the name become, of honorable
infamous, subiect to scorne and derision, and rather a reproch than a
prayse to any that vseth it: for commonly who so is studious in th'Arte or
shewes himselfe excellent in it, they call him in disdayne a
_phantasticall_: and a light headed or phantasticall man (by conuersion)
they call a Poet. And this proceedes through the barbarous ignoraunce of
the time, and pride of many Gentlemen, and others, whose grosse heads not
being brought vp or acquainted with any excellent Arte, nor able to
contriue, or in manner conceiue any matter of subtiltie in any businesse
or science, they doe deride and scorne it in all others as superfluous
knowledges and vayne sciences, and whatsoeuer deuise be of rare inuention
they terme it _phantasticall_, construing it to the worst side: and among
men such as be modest and graue, & of litle conuersation, nor delighted in
the busie life and vayne ridiculous actions of the popular, they call him
in scorne a _Philosopher_, or _Poet_, as much to say as a phantasticall
man, very iniuriously (God wot) and to the manifestation of their own
ignoraunce, not making difference betwixt termes. For as the cuill and
vicious disposition of the braine hinders the sounde iudgement and
discourse of man with busie & disordered phantasies, for which cause the
Greekes call him [Greek: phantasikos] so is that part being well affected,
not onely nothing disorderly or confused with any monstruous imaginations
or conceits, but very formall, and in his much multiformitie _vniforme_,
that is well proportioned, and so passing cleare, that by it as by a
glasse or mirrour, are represented vnto the soule all maner of bewtifull
visions, whereby the inuentiue parte of the mynde is so much holpen, as
without it no man could deuise any new or rare thing: and where it is not
excellent in his kind, there could be no politique Captaine, nor any witty
enginer or cunning artificer, nor yet any law maker or counsellor of deepe
discourse, yea the Prince of Philosophers stickes not to say _animam non
intelligere absque phantasmate_, which text to another purpose _Alexander
Aphrodiscus_ well noteth, as learned men know. And this phantasie may be
resembled to a glasse as hath bene sayd, whereof there be many tempers and
manner of makinges, as the _perspectiues_ doe acknowledge, for some be
false glasses and shew thinges otherwise than they be in deede, and others
right as they be in deede, neither fairer nor fouler, nor greater nor
smaller. There be againe of these glasses that shew thinges exceeding
faire and comely, others that shew figures very monstruous & illfauored.
Euen so is the phantasticall part of man (if it be not disordered) a
representer of the best, most comely and bewtifull images or apparances of
thinges to the soule and according to their very truth. If otherwise, then
doth it breede _Chimeres_ & monsters in mans imaginations, & not onely in
his imaginations, but also in all his ordinarie actions and life which
ensues. Wherefore such persons as be illuminated with the brightest
irradiations of knowledge and of the veritie and due proportion of things,
they are called by the learned men not _phantastics_ but _euphantasiote_,
and of this sorte of phantasie are all good Poets, notable Captaines
stratagematique, all cunning artificers and enginers, all Legislators
Polititiens & Counsellours of estate, in whose exercises the inuentiue
part is most employed and is to the sound & true iudgement of man most
needful. This diuersitie in the termes perchance euery man hath not noted,
& thus much be said in defence of the Poets honour, to the end no noble
and generous minde be discomforted in the studie thereof, the rather for
that worthy & honorable memoriall of that noble woman twise French Queene,
Lady _Anne_ of Britaine, wife first to king _Charles_ the viij and after
to _Lewes_ the xij, who passing one day from her lodging toward the kinges
side, saw in a gallerie _Master Allaine Chartier_ the kings Secretarie, an
excellent maker or Poet leaning on a tables end a sleepe, & stooped downe
to kisse him, saying thus in all their hearings, we may not of Princely
courtesie passe by and not honor with our kisse the mouth from whence so
many sweete ditties & golden poems haue issued. But me thinks at these
words I heare some smilingly say, I would be loath to lacke liuing of my
own till the Prince gaue me a maner of new Elme for my riming: And another
to say I haue read that the Lady _Cynthia_ came once downe out of her skye
to kisse the faire yong lad _Endimion_ as he lay a sleep: & many noble
Queenes that haue bestowed kisses upon their Princes paramours, but neuer
vpon any Poets. The third me thinks shruggingly saith, I kept not to sit
sleeping with my Poesie till a Queene came and kissed me: But what of all
this? Princes may giue a good Poet such conuenient countenaunce and also
benefite as are due to an excellent artificer, though they neither kisse
nor cokes them, and the discret Poet lookes for no such extraordinarie
fauours, and aswell doth he honour by his pen the iust, liberall, or
magnanimous Prince, as the valiaunt, amiable or bewtifull though they be
euery one of them the good giftes of God. So it seemes not altogether the
scorne and ordinarie disgrace offered vnto Poets at these dayes, is cause
why few Gentlemen do delight in the Art, but for that liberalitie, is come
to fayle in Princes, who for their largesse were wont to be accompted
th'onely patrons of learning, and first founders of all excellent
artificers. Besides it is not perceiued, that Princes them selues do take
any pleasure in this science, by whose example the subiect is commonly
led, and allured to all delights and exercises be they good or bad,
according to the graue saying of the historian. _Rex multitudinem
religione impleuit, quæ semper regenti similis est._ And peraduenture in
this iron & malitious age of ours, Princes are lesse delighted in it,
being ouer earnestly bent and affected to the affaires of Empire &
ambition, whereby they are as it were inforced to indeuour them selues to
armes and practises of hostilitie, or to entend to the right pollicing of
their states, and haue not one houre to bestow vpon any other ciuill or
delectable Art of naturall or morall doctrine: nor scarce any leisure to
thincke one good thought in perfect and godly contemplation, whereby their
troubled mindes might be moderated and brought to tranquillitie. So as, it
is hard to find in these dayes of noblemen or gentlemen any good
_Mathematician_, or excellent _Musitian_, or notable _Philosopher_, or els
a cunning Poet: because we find few great Princes much delighted in the
same studies. Now also of such among the Nobilitie or gentrie as be very
well seene in many laudable sciences, and especially in making of Poesie,
it is so come to passe that they haue no courage to write & if they haue,
yet are they loath to be a knowen of their skill. So as I know very many
notable Gentlemen in the Court that haue written commendably, and
suppressed it agayne, or els suffred it to be publisht without their owne
names to it: as if it were a discredit for a Gentleman, to seeme learned,
and to shew himselfe amorous of any good Art. In other ages it was not so,
for we read that Kinges & Princes haue written great volumes and publisht
them vnder their owne regall titles. As to begin with _Salomon_ the wisest
of Kings, _Iulius Caesar_ the greatest of Emperours, _Hermes Trisingistus_
the holiest of Priestes and Prophetes, _Euax_ king of _Arabia_ wrote a
booke of precious stones in verse, prince _Auicenna_ of Phisicke and
Philosophie, _Alphonsus_ king of Spaine his Astronomicall Tables,
_Almansor_ a king of _Marrocco_ diuerse Philosophicall workes, and by
their regall example our late soueraigne Lord king _Henry_ the eight wrate
a booke in defence of his faith, then perswaded that it was the true and
Apostolicall doctrine, though it hath appeared otherwise since, yet his
honour and learned zeale was nothing lesse to be allowed. Queenes also
haue bene knowen studious, and to write large volumes, as Lady _Margaret_
of Fraunce Queene of _Nauarre_ in our time. But of all others the Emperour
_Nero_ was so well learned in Musique and Poesie, as when he was taken by
order of the Senate and appointed to dye, he offered violence to him selfe
and sayd, _O quantus artifex pereo!_ as much to say, as, how is it
possible a man of such science and learning as my selfe, should come to
this shamefull death? Th'emperour _Octauian_ being made executor to
_Virgill_ who had left by his last will and testament that his bookes of
the _Aeneidos_ should be committed to the fire as things not perfited by
him, made his excuse for infringing the deads will, by a nomber of verses
most excellently wntten, whereof these are part.
  _Frangatur potius legure, veneranda potestas,
  Quam tot congestos noctesque diesque labores
  Hauserit vna dies_.

And put his name to them. And before him his vncle & father adoptiue
_Iulius Caesar_, was not ashamed to publish vnder his owne name, his
Commentaries of the French and Britaine warres. Since therefore so many
noble Emperours, Kings and Princes haue bene studious of Poesie and other
ciuill arts, & not ashamed to bewray their skils in the same, let none
other meaner person despise learning, nor (whether it be in prose or in
Poesie, if they them selues be able to write, or haue written any thing
well or of rare inuention) be any whit squeimish to let it be publisht
vnder their names, for reason serues it, and modestie doth not repugne.




  _CHAP. IX._

_How Poesie should not be imployed vpon vayne conceits or vicious or
infamous._


Wherefore the Nobilitie and dignitie of the Art considered aswell by
vniuersalitie as antiquitie and the naturall excellence of it selfe,
Poesie ought not to be abased and imployed vpon any vnworthy matter &
subject, nor vsed to vaine purposes, which neuerthelesse is dayly seene,
and that is to vtter contents infamous & vicious or ridiculous and
foolish, or of no good example & doctrine. Albeit in merry matters (not
vnhonest) being vsed for mans solace and recreation it may well be
allowed, for as I said before, Poesie is a pleasant maner of vtterance
varying from the ordinarie of purpose to refresh the mynde by the eares
delight. Poesie also is not onely laudable, because I said it was a
metricall speach vsed by the first men, but because it is a metricall
speech corrected and reformed by discreet iudgements, and with no lesse
cunning and curiositie than the Greeke and Latine Poesie, and by Art
bewtified & adorned, & brought far from the primitiue rudenesse of the
first inuentors, otherwise it might be sayd to me that _Adam_ and _Eues_
apernes were the gayest garmentes, because they were the first, and the
shepheardes tente or pauillion, the best housing, because it was the most
auncient & most vniversall: which I would not haue so taken, for it is not
my meaning but that Art & cunning concurring with nature, antiquitie &
vniuersalitie, in things indifferent, and not euill, doe make them more
laudable. And right so our vulgar riming Poesie, being by good wittes
brought to that perfection we see, is worthily to be preferred before any
other matter of vtterance in prose, for such vse and to such purpose as it
is ordained, and shall hereafter be set downe more particularly.




  _CHAP. X._

_The subiect or matter of Poesie._


Hauing sufficiently sayd of the dignitie of Poets and Poesie, now it is
tyme to speake of the matter or subiect of Poesie, which to myne intent
is, what soeuer wittie and delicate conceit of man meet or worthy to be
put in written verse, for any necessary use of the present time, or good
instruction of the posteritie. But the chief and principall is: the laud
honour & glory of the immortall gods (I speake now in phrase of the
Gentiles.) Secondly the worthy gests of noble Princes: the memoriall and
registry of all great fortunes, the praise of vertue & reproofe of vice,
the instruction of morall doctrines, the reuealing of sciences naturall &
other profitable Arts, the redresse of boistrous & sturdie courages by
perswasion, the consolation and repose of temperate myndes, finally the
common solace of mankind in all his trauails and cares of this transitorie
life. And in this last sort being vsed for recreation onely, may allowably
beare matter not alwayes of the grauest, or of any great commoditie or
profit, but rather in some sort, vaine, dissolute, or wanton, so it be not
very scandalous & of euill example. But as our intent is to make this Art
vulgar for all English mens vse, & therefore are of necessitie to set
downe the principal rules therein to be obserued: so in mine opinion it is
no lesse expedient to touch briefly all the chief points of this auncient
Poesie of the Greeks and Latines, so far forth as it is conformeth with
ours. So as it may be knowen what we hold of them as borrowed, and what as
of our owne peculiar. Wherefore now that we haue said, what is the matter
of Poesie, we will declare the manner and formes of poemes used by the
auncients.




  _CHAP. XI._

_Of poemes and their sundry formes and how thereby the auncient Poets
receaued surnames._


As the matter of Poesie is diuers, so was the forme of their poemes &
maner of writing, for all of them wrote not in one sort, euen as all of
them wrote not vpon one matter. Neither was euery Poet alike cunning in
all as in some one kinde of Poesie, not vttered with like felicitie. But
wherein any one most excelled, thereof he tooke a surname, as to be called
a Poet _Heroick, Lyrick, Elegiack, Epigrammatist_ or otherwise. Such
therefore as gaue them selves to write long histories of the noble gests
of kings & great Princes, entermedling the dealings of the gods, halfe
gods or _Heroes_ of the gentiles, & the great & waighty consequences of
peace and warre, they called Poets _Heroick_, whereof _Homer_ was chief
and most auncient among the Greeks, _Virgill_ among the Latines. Others
who more delighted to write songs or ballads of pleasure, to be song with
the voice, and to the harpe, lute, or citheron & such other musical
instruments, they were called melodious Poets [_melici_] or by a more
common name _Lirique_ Poets, of which sort was _Pindarus, Anacreon_ and
_Callimachus_ with others among the Greeks: _Horace_ and _Catullus_ among
the Latines. There were an other sort, who sought the fauor of faire
Ladies, and coueted to bemone their estates at large, & the perplexities
of loue in a certain pitious verse called _Elegie_, and thence were called
_Eligiack_: such among the Latines were _Ouid, Tibullus_, & _Propertius_.
There were also Poets that wrote onely for the stage, I meane playes and
interludes, to receate the people with matters of disporte, and to that
intent did set forth in shewes pageants, accompanied with speach the
common behauiours and maner of life of priuate persons, and such as were
the meaner sort of men, and they were called _Comicall_ Poets, of whom
among the Greekes _Menander_ and _Aristophanes_ were most excellent, with
the Latines _Terence_ and _Plautus_. Besides those Poets _Comick_ there
were other who serued also the stage, but medled not with so base matters:
For they set forth the dolefull falles of infortunate & afflicted Princes,
& were called Poets _Tragicall_. Such were _Euripides_ and _Sophocles_
with the Greeks, _Seneca_ among the Latines. There were yet others who
mounted nothing so high as any of them both, but in base and humble stile
by maner of Dialogue, vttered the priuate and familiar talke of the
meanest sort of men, as shepheards, heywards and suchlike, such was among
the Greekes _Theocritus_: and _Virgill_ among the Latines, their poemes
were named _Eglogues_ or shepheardly talke. There was yet another kind of
Poet, who intended to taxe the common abuses and vice of the people in
rough and bitter speaches, and their inuectiues were called _Satyres_, and
them selues _Satyricques_. Such were _Lucilius_, _Iuuenall_ and _Persius_
among the Latines, & with vs he that wrote the booke called Piers plowman.
Others of a more fine and pleasant head were giuen wholly to taunting and
scoffing at vndecent things, and in short poemes vttered pretie merry
conceits, and these men were called _Epigrammatistes_. There were others
that for the peoples good instruction, and triall of their owne witts vsed
in places of great assembly, to say by rote nombers of short and
sententious meetres, very pithie and of good edification, and thereupon
were called Poets _Mimistes_: as who would say, imitable and meet to be
followed for their wise and graue lessons. There was another kind of
poeme, inuented onely to make sport, & to refresh the company with a maner
of buffonry or counterfaiting of merry speaches, conuerting all that which
they had hard spoken before, to a certaine derision by a quite contrary
sence, and this was done, when _Comedies_ or _Tragedies_ were a playing, &
that betweene the actes when the players went to make ready for another,
there was great silence, and the people waxt weary, then came in these
maner of counterfaite vices, they were called _Pantomimi_, and all that
had before bene sayd, or great part of it, they gaue a crosse construction
to it very ridiculously. Thus haue you how the names of the Poets were
giuen them by the formes of their poemes and maner of writing.




  _CHAP. XII._

_In what forme of Poesie the gods of the Gentiles were praysed and
honored._


The gods of the Gentiles were honoured by their Poetes in hymnes, which is
an extraordinarie and diuine praise, extolling and magnifying them for
their great powers and excellencie of nature in the highest degree of
laude, and yet therein their Poets were after a sort restrained: so as
they could not with their credit vntruly praise their owne gods, or vse in
their lauds any maner of grosse adulation or vnueritable report. For in
any writer vntruth and flatterie are counted most great reproches.
Wherfore to praise the gods of the Gentiles, for that by authoritie of
their owne fabulous records, they had fathers and mothers, and kinred and
allies, and wiues and concubines: the Poets first commended them by their
genealogies or pedegrees, their mariages and aliances, their notable
exploits in the world for the behoofe of mankind, and yet as I sayd
before, none otherwise then the truth of their owne memorials might beare,
and in such sort as it might be well auouched by their old written
reports, though in very deede they were not from the beginning all
historically true, and many of them verie fictions, and such of them as
were true, were grounded vpon some part of an historie or matter of
veritie, the rest altogether figuratiue & misticall, couertly applied to
some morall or natural sense, as _Cicero_ setteth it foorth in his bookes
_de natura deorum_. For to say that _Iupiter_ was sonne to _Saturne_, and
that he maried his owne sister _Iuno_, might be true, for such was the
guise of all great Princes in the Orientall part of the world both at
those dayes and now is. Againe that he loued _Danae, Europa, Leda,
Calisto_ & other faire Ladies daughters to kings, besides many meaner
women, it is likely enough, because he was reported to be a very
incontinent person, and giuen ouer to his lustes, as are for the most part
all the greatest Princes, but that he should be the highest god in heauen,
or that he should thunder and lighten, and do manie other things very
vnnaturally and absurdly: also that _Saturnus_ should geld his father
_Celius_, to th'intent to make him vnable to get any moe children, and
other such matters as are reported by them, it seemeth to be some wittie
deuise and fiction made for a purpose, or a very noble and impudent lye,
which could not be reasonably suspected by the Poets, who were otherwise
discreete and graue men, and teachers of wisedome to others. Therefore
either to transgresse the rules of their primitiue records, or to seeke to
giue their gods honour by belying them (otherwise then in that sence which
I haue alledged) had bene a signe not onely of an vnskilfull Poet, but
also of a very impudent and leude man. For vntrue praise neuer giueth any
true reputation. But with vs Christians, who be better disciplined, and do
acknowledge but one God Almightie, euerlasting, and in euery respect selfe
suffizant [_autharcos_] reposed in all perfect rest & soueraigne blisse,
not needing or exacting any forreine helpe or good. To him we can not
exhibit ouermuch praise, nor belye him any wayes, vnlesse it be in abasing
his excellencie by scarsitie of praise, or by misconceauing his diuine
nature, weening to praise him, if we impute to him such vaine delights and
peeuish affections, as commonly the frailest men are reproued for. Namely
to make him ambitious of honour, iealous and difficult in his worships,
terrible, angrie, vindicatiue, a louer, a hater, a pitier, and indigent of
mans worships: finally so passionate as in effect he shold be altogether
_Anthropopathis_. To the gods of the Gentiles they might well attribute
these infirmities, for they were but the children of men, great Princes
and famous in the world, and not for any other respect diuine, then by
some resemblance of vertue they had to do good, and to benefite many. So
as to the God of the Christians, such diuine praise might be verified: to
th'other gods none, but figuratiuely or in misticall sense as hath bene
said. In which sort the ancient Poets did in deede giue them great honors
& praises, and made to them sacrifices, & offred them oblations of sundry
sortes, euen as the people were taught and perswaded by such placations
and worships to receaue any helpe, comfort or benefite to them selues,
their wiues, children, possessions or goods. For if that opinion were not,
who would acknowledge any God? the verie _Etimologie_ of the name with vs
of the North partes of the world declaring plainely the nature of the
attribute, which is all one as if we sayd good, [_bonus_] or a giuer of
good things. Therfore the Gentiles prayed for peace to the goddesse
_Pallas_: for warre (such as thriued by it) to the god _Mars_: for honor
and empire to the god _Iupiter_: for riches & wealth to _Pluto_: for
eloquence and gayne to _Mercurie_: for safe nauigation to _Neptune_: for
faire weather and prosperous windes to _Eolus_: for skill in musick and
leechcraft to _Apollo_: for free life & chastitie to _Diana_: for bewtie
and good grace, as also for issue & prosperitie in loue to _Venus_: for
plenty of crop and corne to _Ceres_: for seasonable vintage to _Bacchus:
and for other things to others. So many things as they could imagine good
and desirable, and to so many gods as they supposed to be authors thereof,
in so much as _Fortune_ was made a goddesse, & the feuer quartaine had her
aulters, such blindnes & ignorance raigned in the harts of men at that
time, and whereof it first proceeded and grew, besides th'opinion hath
bene giuen, appeareth more at large in our bookes of _Ierotekni_, the
matter being of another consideration then to be treated of in this worke.
And these hymnes to the gods was the first forme of Poesie and the highest
& the stateliest, & they were song by the Poets as priests, and by the
people or whole congregation as we sing in our Churchs the Psalmes of
_Dauid_, but they did it commonly in some shadie groues of tall tymber
trees: In which places they reared aulters of greene turfe, and bestrewed
them all ouer with flowers, and vpon them offred their oblations and made
their bloudy sacrifices, (for no kinde of gift can be dearer then life) of
such quick cattaille, as euery god was in their conceit most delighted in,
or in some other respect most fit for the misterie: temples or churches or
other chappels then these they had none at those dayes.




  _CHAP. XIII._

_In what forme of Poesie vice and the common abuses of mans life was
reprehended._


Some perchance would thinke that next after the praise and honoring of
their gods, should commence the worshippings and praise of good men, and
specially of great Princes and gouernours of the earth; in soueraignety
and function next vnto the gods. But it is not so, for before that came to
passe, the Poets or holy Priests, chiefly studied the rebuke of vice, and
to carpe at the common abuses, such as were most offensiue to the publique
and priuate, for as yet for lacke of good ciuility and wholesome
doctrines, there was greater store of lewde lourdaines then of wife and
learned Lords, or of noble and vertuous Princes and gouernours. So as next
after the honours exhibited to their gods, the Poets finding in man
generally much to reproue & litle to praise, made certaine poems in plaine
meetres, more like to sermons or preachings then otherwise, and when the
people were assembled togither in those hallowed places dedicate to their
gods, because they had yet no large halles or places of conuenticle, nor
had any other correction of their faults, but such as rested onely in
rebukes of wife and graue men, such as at these dayes make the people
ashamed rather then afeard, the said auncient Poets used for that purpose,
three kinds of poems reprehensiue, to wit, the _Satyre_, the _Comedie_, &
the _Tragedie:_ and the first and most bitter inuectiue against vice and
vicious men, was the _Satyre_: which to th'intent their bitternesse should
breede none ill will, either to the Poets, or to the recitours, (which
could not haue bene chosen if they had bene openly knowen) and besides to
make their admonitions and reproofs seeme grauer and of more efficacie,
they made wife as if the gods of the woods, whom they called _Satyres_ or
_Silvanes_, should appeare and recite those verses of rebuke, whereas
in deede they were but disguised persons vnder the shape of _Satyres_ as
who would say, these terrene and base gods being conuersant with mans
affaires, and spiers out of all their secret faults: had some great care
ouer man, & desired by good admonitions to reforme the euill of their
life, and to bring the bad to amendment by those kinde of preachings,
whereupon the Poets inuentours of the deuise were called _Satyristes_.




  _CHAP. XIIII._

_How vice was afterward reproued by two other maner of poems, better
reformed then the Satyre, whereof the first was Comedy, the second
Tragedie._


Bvt when these maner of solitary speaches and recitals of rebuke, vttered
by the rurall gods out of bushes and briers, seemed not to the finer heads
sufficiently perswasiue, nor so popular as if it were reduced into action
of many persons, or by many voyces liuely represented to the eare and eye,
so as a man might thinke it were euen now a doing. The Poets deuised to
haue many parts played at once by two or three or foure persons, that
debated the matters of the world, sometimes of their owne priuate
affaires, sometimes of their neighbours, but neuer medling with any
Princes matters nor such high personages, but commonly of marchants,
souldiers, artificers, good honest housholders, and also of vnthrifty
youthes, yong damsels, old nurses, bawds, brokers, ruffians and parasites,
with such like, in whose behauiors, lyeth in effect the whole course and
trade of mans life, and therefore tended altogether to the good amendment
of man by discipline and example. It was also much for the solace &
recreation of the common people by reason of the pageants and shewes. And
this kind of poeme was called _Comedy_, and followed next after the
_Satyre_, & by that occasion was somwhat sharpe and bitter after the
nature of the _Satyre_, openly & by expresse names taxing men more
maliciously and impudently then became, so as they were enforced for feare
of quarell & blame to disguise their players with strange apparell, and by
colouring their faces and carying hatts & capps of diuerse fashions to
make them selues lesse knowen. But as time & experience do reforme euery
thing that is amisse, so this bitter poeme called the old _Comedy_, being
disused and taken away, the new _Comedy_ came in place, more ciuill and
pleasant a great deale and not touching any man by name, but in a certain
generalitie glancing at euery abuse, so as from thenceforth fearing none
ill-will or enmitie at any bodies hands, they left aside their disguisings
& played bare face, till one _Roscius Gallus_ the most excellent player
among the Romaines brought vp these vizards, which we see at this day
vsed, partly to supply the want of players, when there were moe parts then
there were persons, or that it was not thought meet to trouble & pester
princes chambers with too many folkes. Now by the chaunge of a vizard one
man might play the king and the carter, the old nurse & the yong damsell,
the marchant & the souldier or any other part he listed very conueniently.
There be that say _Roscius_ did it for another purpose, for being him
selfe the best _Histrien_ or buffon that was in his dayes to be found,
insomuch as _Cicero_ said _Roscius_ contended with him by varietie of
liuely gestures to surmount the copy of his speach, yet because he was
squint eyed and had a very vnpleasant countenance, and lookes which made
him ridiculous or rather odious to the presence, he deuised these vizards
to hide his owne ilfauored face. And thus much touching the _Comedy_.




  _CHAP. XV._

_In what forme of Poesie the euill and outragious bahauiours of Princes
were reprehended._


Bvt because in those dayes when the Poets first taxed by _Satyre_ and
_Comedy_, there was no great store of Kings or Emperors or such high
estats (al men being yet for the most part rude, & in a maner popularly
egall) they could not say of them or of their behauiours any thing to the
purpose, which cases of Princes are sithens taken for the highest and
greatest matters of all. But after that some men among the moe became
mighty and famous in the world, soueraignetie and dominion hauing learned
them all maner of lusts and licentiousnes of life, by which occasions also
their high estates and felicities fell many times into most lowe and
lamentable fortunes: whereas before in their great prosperities they were
both feared and reuerenced in the highest degree, after their deathes when
the posteritie stood no more in dread of them, their infamous life and
tyrannies were layd open to all the world, their wickednes reproched,
their follies and extreme insolencies derided, and their miserable ends
painted out in playes and pageants, to shew the mutabilitie of fortune,
and the iust punishment of God in reuenge of a vicious and euill life.
These matters were also handled by the Poets and represented by action as
that of the _Comedies_: but because the matter was higher then that of the
_Comedies_ the Poets stile was also higher and more loftie, the prouision
greater, the place more magnificent: for which purpose also the players
garments were made more rich & costly and solemne, and euery other thing
apperteining, according to that rate: So as where the _Satyre_ was
pronounced by rusticall and naked _Syluanes_ speaking out of a bush, & the
common players of interludes called _Plampedes_, played barefoote vpon the
floore: the later _Comedies_ vpon scaffolds, and by men well and cleanely
hosed and shod. These matters of great Princes were played vpon lofty
stages, & the actors thereof ware vpon their legges buskins of leather
called _Cothurni_, and other solemne habits, & for a speciall preheminence
did walke vpon those high corked shoes or pantofles, which now they call
in Spaine & Italy _Shoppini_. And because those buskins and high shoes
were commonly made of goats skinnes very finely tanned, and dyed into
colours: or for that as some say the best players reward, was a goate to
be giuen him, or for that as other thinke, a goate was the peculiar
sacrifice to the god _Pan_, king of all the gods of the woodes: forasmuch
as a goate in Greeke is called _Tragos_, therfore these stately playes
were called _Tragedies_. And thus haue ye foure sundry formes of Poesie
_Dramatick_ reprehensiue, & put in execution by the feate & dexteritie of
mans body, to wit, the _Satyre_, old _Comedie_, new _Comedie_, and
_Tragedie_, whereas all other kinde of poems except _Eglogue_ whereof
shalbe entreated hereafter, were onely recited by mouth or song with the
voyce to some melodious instrument.




  _CHAP. XVI._

_In what forme of Poesie the great Princes and dominators of the world
were honored._


Bvt as the bad and illawdable parts of all estates and degrees were taxed
by the Poets in one sort or an other, and those of great Princes by
Tragedie in especial, (& not till after their deaths) as hath bene before
remembred, to th'intent that such exemplifying (as it were) of their
blames and aduersities, being now dead, might worke for a secret
reprehension to others that were aliue, liuing in the fame or like abuses.
So was it great reason that all good and vertuous persons should for their
well doings be rewarded with commendation, and the great Princes aboue all
others with honors and praises, being for many respects of greater moment,
to haue them good & vertuous then any inferior sort of men. Wherfore the
Poets being in deede the trumpetters of all praise and also of slaunder
(not slaunder, but well deserued reproch) were in conscience & credit
bound next after the diuine praises of the immortall gods, to yeeld a like
ratable honour to all such amongst men, as most resembled the gods by
excellencie of function and had a certaine affinitie with them, by more
then humane and ordinarie virtues shewed in their actions here vpon earth.
They were therefore praised by a second degree of laude: shewing their
high estates, their Princely genealogies and pedegrees, mariages,
aliances, and such noble exploites, as they had done in th'affaires of
peace & of warre to the benefit of their people and countries, by
inuention of any noble science, or profitable Art, or by making wholesome
lawes or enlarging of their dominions by honorable and iust conquests, and
many other wayes. Such personages among the Gentiles were _Bacchus, Ceres,
Perseus, Hercules, Theseus_ and many other, who thereby came to be
accompted gods and halfe gods or goddesses [_Heroes_] & had their
commedations giuen by Hymne accordingly or by such other poems as their
memorie was therby made famous to the posteritie for euer after, as shal
be more at large sayd in place conuenient. But first we will speake
somewhat of the playing places, and prouisions which were made for their
pageants & pomps representatiue before remembred.




  _CHAP. XVII._

_Of the places where their enterludes or poemes drammaticke were
represented to the people._


As it hath bene declared, the _Satyres_ were first vttered in their
hallowed places within the woods where they honoured their gods vunder the
open heauen, because they had no other housing fit for great assemblies.
The old comedies were plaid in the broad streets vpon wagons or carts
vncouered, which carts were floored with bords & made for remouable stages
to passe from one streete of their townes to another, where all the people
might stand at their ease to gaze vpon the sights. Their new comedies or
ciuill enterludes were played in open pauilions or tents of linnen cloth
or lether, halfe displayed that the people might see. Afterward when
Tragidies came vp they deuised to present them vpon scaffolds or stages of
timber, shadowed with linen or lether as the other, and these stages were
made in the forme of a _Semicircle_, wherof the bow serued for the
beholders to fit in, and the string or forepart was appointed for the
floore or place where the players vttered, & had in it sundry little
diuisions by curteins as trauerses to serue for seueral roomes where they
might repaire vnto & change their garments & come in againe, as their
speaches & parts were to be renewed. Also there was place appointed for
the musiciens to sing or to play vpon their instrumentes at the end of
euery scene, to the intent the people might be refreshed, and kept
occupied. This maner of stage in halfe circle, the Greekes called
_theatrum_, as much to say as a beholding place, which was also in such
sort contriued by benches and greeces to stand or sit vpon; as no man
should empeach anothers sight. But as ciuilitie and withall wealth
encreased, so did the minde of man growe dayly more haultie and
superfluous in all his deuises, so as for their _theaters_ in halfe
circle, they came to be by the great magnificence of the Romain princes
and people somptuously built with marble & square stone in forme all
round, & were called _Amphitheaters_, wherof as yet appears one among the
ancient ruines of Rome, built by _Pompeius Magnus_, for capasitie able to
receiue at ease fourscore thousand persons as it is left written, & so
curiously contriued as euery man might depart at his pleasure, without any
annoyance to other. It is also to be knowne that in those great
_Amphitheaters_, were exhibited all maner of other shewes & disports for
the people, as their ferce playes, or digladiations of naked men, their
wrastlings, runnings leapings and other practises of actiuitie and
strength, also their baitings of wild beasts, as Elephants, Rhinocerons,
Tigers, Leopards and others, which sights much delighted the common
people, and therefore the places required to be large and of great
content.




  _CHAP. XVIII._

_Of the Shepheards or pastorall Poesie called Eglogue, and to what purpose
it was first inuented and vsed._


Some be of opinion, and the chiefe of those who haue written in this Art
among the Latines, that the pastorall Poesie which we commonly call by the
name of _Eglogue_ and _Bucolick_, a tearme brought in by the Sicilian
Poets, should be the first of any other, and before the _Satyre_ comedie
or tragedie, because, say they, the shepheards and haywards assemblies &
meetings when they kept their cattell and heards in the common fields and
forests, was the first familiar conuersation, and their babble and talk
vnder bushes and shadie trees, the first disputation and contentious
reasoning, and their fleshly heates growing of ease, the first idle
wooings, and their songs made to their mates or paramours either vpon
sorrow or iolity of courage, the first amorous musicks, sometime also they
sang and played on their pipes for wagers, striuing who should get the
best game, and be counted cunningest. All this I do agree vnto, for no
doubt the shepheards life was the first example of honest felowship, their
trade the first art of lawfull acquisition or purchase, for at those daies
robbery was a manner of purchase. So saith _Aristotle_ in his bookes of
the Politiques, and that pasturage was before tillage, or fishing or
fowling, or any other predatory art or cheuisance. And all this may be
true, for before there was a shepheard keeper of his owne, or of some
other bodies flocke, there was none owner in the world, quick cattel being
the first property of any forreine possession. I say forreine, because
alway men claimed property in their apparell and armour, and other like
things made by their owne trauel and industry, nor thereby was there yet
any good towne or city or Kings palace, where pageants and pompes might be
shewed by Comedies or Tragedies. But for all this, I do deny that the
_Eglogue_ should be the first and most auncient forme of artificiall
Poesie, being perswaded that the Poet deuised the _Eglogue_ long after the
other _drammatick_ poems, not of purpose to counterfait or represent the
rusticall manner of loues and communication: but vnder the vaile of homely
persons, and in rude speeches to insinuate and glaunce at greater matters,
and such as perchance had not bene safe to haue beene disclosed in any
other sort, which may be perceiued by the Eglogues of _Virgill_, in which
are treated by figure matters of greater importance then the loues of
_Titirus_ and _Corydon_. These Eglogues came after to containe and enforme
morall discipline, for the amendment of mans behauiour, as be those of
_Mantuan_ and other moderne Poets.




  _CHAP. XIX._

_Of historicall Poesie, by which the famous acts of Princes and the
vertuous and worthy liues of our forefathers were reported._


There is nothing in man of all the potential parts of his mind (reason and
will except) more noble or more necessary to the actiue life then memory:
because it maketh most to a sound iudgement and perfect worldly wisedome,
examining and comparing the times past with the present, and by them both
considering the time to come, concludeth with a stedfast resolution, what
is the best course to be taken in all his actions and aduices in this
world: it came vpon this reason, experience to be so highly commended in
all consultations of importance, and preferred before any learning or
science, and yet experience is no more than a masse of memories assembled,
that is, such trials as man hath made in time before. Right so no kinde of
argument in all the Oratorie craft, doth better perswade and more
vniuersally satisfie then example, which is but the representation of old
memories, and like successes happened in times past. For these regards the
Poesie historicall is of all other next the diuine most honorable and
worthy, as well for the common benefit as for the speciall comfort euery
man receiueth by it. No one thing in the world with more delectation
reuiuing our spirits then to behold as it were in a glasse the liuely
image of our deare forefathers, their noble and vertuous maner of life,
with other things autentike, which because we are not able otherwise to
attaine to the knowledge of by any of our sences, we apprehend them by
memory, whereas the present time and things so swiftly passe away, as they
giue vs no leasure almost to looke into them, and much lesse to know &
consider of them throughly. The things future, being also euents very
vncertaine, and such as can not possibly be knowne because they be not
yet, can not be vsed for example nor for delight otherwise then by hope.
Though many promise the contrary, by vaine and deceitfull arts taking vpon
them to reueale the truth of accidents to come, which if it were so as
they surmise, are yet but sciences meerely coniecturall, and not of any
benefit to man or to the common wealth, where they be vsed or professed.
Therefore the good and exemplary things and actions of the former ages,
were reserued only to the historicall reportes of wise and graue men:
those of the present time left to the fruition and iudgement of our
sences: the future as hazards and incertaine euentes vtterly neglected and
layd aside for Magicians and mockers to get their liuings by: such manner
of men as by negligence of Magistrates and remisses of lawes euery
countrie breedeth great store of. These historical men neuerthelesse vsed
not the matter so precisely to wish that al they wrote should be accounted
true, for that was not needefull nor expedient to the purpose, namely to
be vsed either for example or for pleasure: considering that many times it
is seene a fained matter or altogether fabulous, besides that it maketh
more mirth than any other, works no lesse good conclusions for example
then the most true and veritable: but often times more, because the Poet
hath the handling of them to fashion at his pleasure, but not so of
th'other which must go according to their veritie & none otherwise without
the writers great blame. Againe as ye know mo and more excellent examples
may be fained in one day by a good wit, then many ages through mans
frailtie are able to put in vse, which made the learned and wittie men of
those times to deuise many historicall matters of no veritie at all, but
with purpose to do good and no hurt, as vsing them for a maner of
discipline and president of commendable life. Such was the common wealth
of _Plato_, and Sir _Thomas Moores Vtopia_, resting all in deuise, but
neuer put in execution, and easier to be wished then to be performed. And
you shall perceiue that histories were of three sortes, wholly true and
wholly false, and a third holding part of either, but for honest
recreation, and good example they were all of them. And this may be
apparent to vs not onely by the Poeticall histories, but also by those
that be written in prose: for as _Homer_ wrate a fabulous or mixt report
of the siege of Troy, and another of _Ulisses_ errors or wandrings, so did
_Museus_ compile a true treatise of the life & loues of _Leander_ and
_Hero_, both of them _Heroick_, and to none ill edification. Also as
_Theucidides_ wrate a worthy and veritable historie, of the warres betwixt
the _Athenians_ and the _Peloponeses_: so did _Zenophon_, a most graue
Philosopher, and well trained courtier and counsellour make another (but
fained and vntrue) of the childhood of _Cyrus_ king of _Persia_,
neuertheles both to one effect, that is for example and good information
of the posteritie. Now because the actions of meane & base personages,
tend in very few cases to any great good example: for who passeth to
follow the steps, and maner of life of a craftes man, shepheard or sailer,
though he were his father or dearest frend? yea how almost is it possible
that such maner of men should be of any vertue other then their profession
requireth? Therefore was nothing committed to historie, but matters of
great and excellent persons & things that the same by irritation of good
courages (such as emulation causeth) might worke more effectually, which
occasioned the story writer to chuse an higher stile fit for his subiect,
the Prosaicke in prose, the Poet in meetre, and the Poets was by verse
exameter for his grauitie and statelinesse most allowable: neither would
they intermingle him with any other shorter measure, vnlesse it were in
matters of such qualitie, as became best to be song with the voyce, and to
some musicall instrument, as were with the Greeks, all your Hymnes &
_Encomia_ of _Pindarus_ & _Callimachus_, not very histories but a maner of
historicall reportes in which cases they made those poemes in variable
measures, & coupled a short verse with a long to serue that purpose the
better, and we our selues who compiled this treatise haue written for
pleasure a litle brief _Romance_ or historicall ditty in the English tong
of the Isle of great _Britaine_ in short and long meetres, and by breaches
or diuisions to be more commodiously song to the harpe in places of
assembly, where the company shalbe desirous to heare of old aduentures &
valiaunces of noble knights in times past, as are those of king _Arthur_
and his knights of the round table, Sir _Beuys_ of _Southampton_, _Guy_ of
_Warwicke_ and others like. Such as haue not premonition hereof, and
consideration of the causes alledged, would peraduenture reproue and
disgrace euery _Romance_, or short historicall ditty for that they be not
written in long meeters or verses _Alexandrins_, according to the nature &
stile of large histories, wherin they should do wrong for they be sundry
formes of poems and not all one.




  _CHAP. XX._

_In what forme of Poesie vertue in the inferiour sort was commended._


In euerie degree and sort of men vertue is commendable, but not egally:
not onely because mens estates are vnegall, but for that also vertue it
selfe is not in euery respect of egall value and estimation. For
continence in a king is of greater merit, than in a carter, th'one hauing
all opportunities to allure him to lusts, and abilitie to serue his
appetites, th'other partly, for the basenesse of his estate wanting such
meanes and occasions, partly by dread of lawes more inhibited, and not so
vehemently caried away with vnbridled affections, and therefore deserue
not in th'one and th'other like praise nor equall reward, by the very
ordinarie course of distributiue iustice. Euen so parsimonie and
illiberalitie are greater vices in a Prince then in a priuate person, and
pusillanimitie and iniustice likewise: for to th'one, fortune hath
supplied inough to maintaine them in the contrarie vertues, I meane,
fortitude, iustice, liberalitie, and magnanimitie: the Prince hauing all
plentie to vse largesse by, and no want or neede to driue him to do wrong.
Also all the aides that may be to lift vp his courage, and to make him
stout and fearelesse (_augent animos fortunae_) saith the _Mimist_, and
very truly, for nothing pulleth downe a mans heart so much as aduersitie
and lacke. Againe in a meane man prodigalitie and pride are faultes more
reprehensible then in Princes, whose high estates do require in their
countenance, speech & expense, a certaine extraordinary, and their
functions enforce them sometime to exceede the limites of mediocritie not
excusable in a priuat person, whose manner of life and calling hath no
such exigence. Besides the good and bad of Princes is more exemplarie, and
thereby of greater moment then the priuate persons. Therefore it is that
the inferiour persons, with their inferiour vertues haue a certaine
inferiour praise, to guerdon their good with, & to comfort them to
continue a laudable course in the modest and honest life and behauiour.
But this lyeth not in written laudes so much as in ordinary reward and
commendation to be giuen them by the mouth of the superiour magistrate.
For histories were not intended to so generall and base a purpose, albeit
many a meane souldier & other obscure persons were spoken of and made
famous in stories, as we finde of _Irus_ the begger, and _Thersites_ the
glorious noddie, whom _Homer_ maketh mention of. But that happened (& so
did many like memories of meane men) by reason of some greater personage
or matter that it was long of, which therefore could not be an vniuersall
case nor chaunce to euery other good and vertuous person of the meaner
sort. Wherefore the Poet in praising the maner of life or death of anie
meane person, did it by some litle dittie or Epigram or Epitaph in fewe
verses & meane stile conformable to his subiect. So haue you how the
immortall gods were praised by hymnes, the great Princes and heroicke
personages by ballades of praise called _Encomia_, both of them by
historicall reports of great grauitie and maiestie, the inferiour persons
by other slight poemes.




  _CHAP. XXI._

_The forme wherein honest and profitable Artes and sciences were treated._


The profitable sciences were no lesse meete to be imported to the greater
number of ciuill men for instruction of the people and increase of
knowledge, then to be reserued and kept for clerkes and great men onely.
So as next vnto the things historicall such doctrines and arts as the
common wealth fared the better by, were esteemed and allowed. And the same
were treated by Poets in verse _Exameter_ fauouring the _Heroicall_, and
for the grauitie and comelinesse of the meetre most vsed with the Greekes
and Latines to sad purposes. Such were the Philosophicall works of
_Lucretius Carus_ among the Romaines, the Astronomicall of _Aratus_ and
_Manilius_, one Greeke th'other Latine, the Medicinall of _Nicander_, and
that of _Oprianus_ of hunting and fishes, and many moe that were too long
to recite in this place.




  _CHAP. XXII._

_In what forme of Poesie the amorous affections and allurements were
vttered._


The first founder of all good affections is honest loue, as the mother of
all the vicious is hatred. It was not therefore without reason that so
commendable, yea honourable a thing as loue well meant, were it in
Princely estate or priuate, might in all ciuil common wealths be vttered
in good forme and order as other laudable things are. And because loue is
of all other humane affections the most puissant and passionate, and most
generall to all sortes and ages of men and women, so as whether it be of
the yong or old or wise or holy, or high estate or low, none euer could
truly bragge of any exemption in that case: it requireth a forme of Poesie
variable, inconstant, affected, curious and most witty of any others,
whereof the ioyes were to be vttered in one sorte, the sorrowes in an
other, and by the many formes of Poesie, the many moodes and pangs of
louers, throughly to be discouered: the poore soules sometimes praying,
beseeching, sometime honouring, auancing, praising: an other while
railing, reuiling, and cursing: then sorrowing, weeping, lamenting: in the
ende laughing, reioysing & solacing the beloued againe, with a thousand
delicate deuises, odes, songs, elegies, ballads, sonets and other ditties,
moouing one way and another to great compassion.




  _CHAP. XXIII._

_The forme of Poeticall reioysings._


Pleasure is the chiefe parte of mans felicity in this world, and also (as
our Theologians say) in the world to come. Therefore while we may (yea
alwaies if it could be) to reioyce and take our pleasures in vertuous and
honest sort, it is not only allowable, but also necessary and very
naturall to man. And many be the ioyes and consolations of the hart: but
none greater, than such as he may vtter and discouer by some conuenient
meanes: euen as to suppresse and hide a mans mirth, and not to haue
therein a partaker, or at least wise a witnes, is no little griefe and
infelicity. Therfore nature and ciuility haue ordained (besides the
priuate solaces) publike reioisings for the comfort and recreation of
many. And they be of diuerse sorts and vpon diuerse occasions growne: one
& the chiefe was for the publike peace of a countrie the greatest of any
other ciuill good. And wherein your Maiestie (my most gracious Soueraigne)
haue shewed your selfe to all the world for this one and thirty yeares
space of your glorious raigne, aboue all other Princes of Christendome,
not onely fortunate, but also most sufficient vertuous and worthy of
Empire. An other is for iust & honourable victory atchieued against the
forraine enemy. A third at solemne feasts and pompes of coronations and
enstallments of honourable orders. An other for iollity at weddings and
marriages. An other at the births of Princes children. An other for
priuate entertainements in Court, or other secret disports in chamber, and
such solitary places. And as these reioysings tend to diuers effects, so
do they also carry diuerse formes and nominations: for those of victorie
and peace are called _Triumphall_, whereof we our selues haue heretofore
giuen some example by our _Triumphals_ written in honour of her Maiesties
long peace. And they were vsed by the auncients in like manner, as we do
our generall processions or Letanies with bankets and bonefires and all
manner of ioyes. Those that were to honour the persons of great Princes or
to solemnise the pompe of any installment were called _Encomia_, we may
call them carols of honour. Those to celebrate marriages were called songs
nuptiall or _Epithalamies_, but in a certaine misticall sense as shall be
said hereafter. Others for magnificence at the natiuities of Princes
children, or by custome vsed yearely vpon the same dayes, are called songs
natall or _Genethliaca_. Others for secret recreation and pastime in
chambers with company or alone were the ordinary Musickes amorous, such as
might be song with voice or to the Lute, Citheron or Harpe, or daunced by
measures as the Italian Pauan and galliard are at these daies in Princes
Courts and other places of honourable of ciuill assembly, and of all these
we will speake in order and very briefly.




  _CHAP. XXIIII._

_The forme of Poeticall lamentations_.


Lamenting is altogether contrary to reioising, euery man saith so, and yet
is it a peece of ioy to be able to lament with ease, and freely to poure
forth a mans inward sorrowes and the greefs wherewith his minde is
surcharged. This was a very necessary deuise of the Poet and a fine,
besides his poetrie to play also the Phisitian, and not onely by applying
a medicine to the ordinary sicknes of mankind, but by making the very
greef it selfe (in part) cure of the disease. Nowe are the causes of mans
sorrowes many: the death of his parents, friends, allies, and children:
(though many of the barbarous nations do reioyce at their burials and
sorrow at their birthes) the ouerthrowes and discomforts in battell, the
subuersions of townes and cities, the desolations of countreis, the losse
of goods and worldly promotions, honour and good renowne: finally the
trauails and torments of loue forlorne or ill bestowed, either by
disgrace, deniall, delay, and twenty other wayes, that well experienced
louers could recite. Such of these greefs as might be refrained or holpen
by wisedome, and the parties owne good endeuour, the Poet gaue none order
to sorrow them: for first as to the good renowne it is lost, for the more
part by some default of the owner, and may be by his well doings recouered
againe. And if it be vniustly taken away, as by vntrue and famous libels,
the offenders recantation may suffise for his amends: so did the Poet
_Stesichorus_, as it is written of him in his _Pallinodie_ vpon the
dispraise of _Helena_, and recouered his eye sight. Also for worldly goods
they come and go, as things not long proprietary to any body, and are not
yet subiect vnto fortunes dominion so, but that we our selues are in great
part accessarie to our own losses and hinderaunces, by ouersight &
misguiding of our selues and our things, therefore why should we bewaile
our such voluntary detriment? But death the irrecouerable losse, death the
dolefull departure of frendes, that can neuer be recontinued by any other
meeting or new acquaintance. Besides our vncertaintie and suspition of
their estates and welfare in the places of their new abode, seemeth to
carry a reasonable pretext of iust sorrow. Likewise the great ouerthrowes
in battell and desolations of countreys by warres, aswell for the losse of
many liues and much libertie as for that it toucheth the whole state, and
euery priuate man hath his portion in the damage: Finally for loue, there
is no frailtie in flesh and bloud so excusable as it, no comfort or
discomfort greater then the good and bad successe thereof, nothing more
naturall to man, nothing of more force to vanquish his will and to inuegle
his iudgement. Therefore of death and burials, of th'aduersities by
warres, and of true loue lost or ill bestowed, are th'onely sorrowes that
the noble Poets sought by their arte to remoue or appease, not with any
medicament of a contrary temper, as the _Galenistes_ vse to cure
[_contraria contrarijs_] but as the _Paracelsians_, who cure [_similia
similibus_] making one dolour to expell another, and in this case, one
short sorrowing the remedie of a long and grieuous sorrow. And the
lamenting of deathes was chiefly at the very burialls of the dead, also at
monethes mindes and longer times, by custome continued yearely, when as
they vsed many offices of seruice and loue towards the dead, and thereupon
are called _Obsequies_ in our vulgare, which was done not onely by
cladding the mourners their friendes and seruauntes in blacke vestures, of
shape dolefull and sad, but also by wofull countenaunces and voyces, and
besides by Poeticall mournings in verse. Such funerall songs were called
_Epicedia_ if they were song by many, and _Monodia_ if they were vttered
by one alone, and this was vsed at the enterment of Princes and others of
great accompt, and it was reckoned a great ciuilitie to vse such
ceremonies, as at this day is also in some countrey vsed. In Rome they
accustomed to make orations funeral and commendatorie of the dead parties
in the publique place called _Procostris_: and our _Theologians_, in stead
thereof vse to make sermons, both teaching the people some good learning,
and also saying well of the departed. Those songs of the dolorous
discomfits in battaile, and other desolations in warre, or of townes
saccaged and subuerted, were song by the remnant of the army ouerthrowen,
with great skrikings and outcries, holding the wrong end of their weapon
vpwards in signe of sorrow and dispaire. The cities also made generall
mournings & offred sacrifices with Poeticall songs to appease the wrath of
the martiall gods & goddesses. The third sorrowing was of loues, by long
lamentation in _Elegie_: so was their song called, and it was in a pitious
maner of meetre, placing a limping _Pentameter_, after a lusty _Exameter_,
which made it go dolourously more then any other meeter.




  _CHAP. XXV._

_Of the solemne reioysings at the natiuitie of Princes children._


To returne from sorrow to reioysing it is a very good hap and no vnwise
part for him that can do it, I say therefore, that the comfort of issue
and procreation of children is so naturall and so great, not onely to all
men but specially to Princes, as duetie and ciuilitie haue made it a
common custome to reioyse at the birth of their noble children, and to
keepe those dayes hallowed and festiuall for euer once in the yeare,
during the parentes or childrens liues: and that by publique order &
consent. Of which reioysings and mirthes the Poet ministred the first
occasion honorable, by presenting of ioyfull songs and ballades, praysing
the parentes by proofe, the child by hope, the whole kinred by report, &
the day it selfe with wishes of all good successe, long life, health &
prosperitie for euer to the new borne. These poems were called in Greeke
_Genethaca_, with vs they may be called natall or birth songs.




  _CHAP. XXVI._

_The maner of reioysings at mariages and weddings._


As the consolation of children well begotten is great, no lesse but rather
greater ought to be that which is occasion of children, that is honorable
matrimonie, a loue by al lawes allowed, not mutable nor encombred with
such vaine cares & passions, as that other loue, whereof there is no
assurance, but loose and fickle affection occasioned for the most part by
sodaine sights and acquaintance of no long triall or experience, nor vpon
any other good ground wherein any suretie may be conceiued: wherefore the
Ciuill Poet could do no lesse in conscience and credit, then as he had
before done to the ballade of birth: now with much better deuotion to
celebrate by his poeme the chearefull day of mariages aswell Princely as
others, for that hath alwayes bene accompted with euery countrey and
nation of neuer so barbarous people, the highest & holiest, of any
ceremonie apperteining to man: a match forsooth made for euer and not for
a day, a solace prouided for youth, a comfort for age, a knot of alliance
& amitie indissoluble: great reioysing was therefore due to such a matter
and to so gladsome a time. This was done in ballade wise as the natall
song, and was song very sweetely by Musitians at the chamber dore of the
Bridegroome and Bride at such times as shalbe hereafter declared and they
were called _Epithalamies_ as much to say as ballades at the bedding of
the bride: for such as were song at the borde at dinner or supper were
other Musickes and not properly _Epithalamies_. Here, if I shall say that
which apperteineth to th'arte, and disclose the misterie of the whole
matter, I must and doe with all humble reuerence bespeake pardon of the
chaste and honorable eares, least I should either offend them with
licentious speach, or leaue them ignorant of the ancient guise in old
times vsed at weddings (in my simple opinion) nothing reproueable. This
_Epithalamie_ was deuided by breaches into three partes to serue for three
seuerall fits or times to be song. The first breach was song at the first
parte of the night when the spouse and her husband were brought to their
bed & at the very chamber dore, where in a large vtter roome vsed to be
(besides the musitiens) good store of ladies or gentlewomen of their
kinsefolkes, & others who came to honor the mariage, & the tunes of the
songs were very loude and shrill, to the intent there might no noise be
hard out of the bed chamber by the skreeking & outcry of the young
damosell feeling the first forces of her stiffe & rigorous young man, she
being as all virgins tender & weake, & vnexpert in those maner of
affaires. For which purpose also they vsed by old nurses (appointed to
that seruice) to suppresse the noise by casting of pottes full of nuttes
round about the chamber vpon the hard floore or pauement, for they vsed no
mattes nor rushes as we doe now. So as the Ladies and gentlewomen should
haue their eares so occupied what with Musicke, and what with their handes
wantonly scambling and catching after the nuttes, that they could not
intend to harken after any other thing. This was as I said to diminish the
noise of the laughing lamenting spouse. The tenour of that part of the
song was to congratulate the first acquaintance and meeting of the young
couple, allowing of their parents good discretions in making the match,
then afterward to sound cheerfully to the onset and first encounters of
that amorous battaile, to declare the comfort of children, & encrease of
loue by that meane chiefly caused: the bride shewing her self euery waies
well disposed and still supplying occasions of new lustes and loue to her
husband, by her obedience and amorous embracings and all other
allurementes. About midnight or one of the clocke, the Musicians came
again to the chamber dore (all the Ladies and other women as they were of
degree, hauing taken their leaue, and being gone to their rest.) This part
of the ballade was to refresh the faint and weried bodies and spirits, and
to animate new appetites with cherefull wordes, encoraging them to the
recontinuance of the same entertainments, praising and commending (by
supposall) the good conformities of them both, & their desire one to
vanquish the other by such friendly conflictes: alledging that the first
embracements neuer bred barnes, by reason of their ouermuch affection and
heate, but onely made passage for children and enforced greater liking to
the late made match. That the second assaultes, were less rigorous, but
more vigorous and apt to auance the purpose of procreation, that therefore
they should persist in all good appetite with an inuincible courage to the
end. This was the second part of the _Epithalamie_. In the morning when it
was faire broad day, & that by liklyhood all tournes were sufficiently
serued, the last actes of the enterlude being ended, & that the bride must
within few hours arise and apparrell her selfe, no more as a virgine, but
as a wife, and about dinner time must by order come forth _Sicut sponsa de
thalamo_, very demurely and stately to be sene and acknowledged of her
parents and kinsfolkes whether she were the same woman or a changeling, or
dead or aliue, or maimed by any accident nocturnall. The same Musicians
came againe with this last part, and greeted them both with a Psalme of
new applausions, for that they had either of them so well behaued them
selues that night, the husband to rob his spouse of her maidenhead and
saue her life, the bride so lustely to satisfie her husbandes loue and
scape with so litle daunger of her person, for which good chaunce that
they should make a louely truce and abstinence of that warre till next
night sealing the placard of that louely league, with twentie maner of
sweet kisses, then by good admonitions enformed them to the frugall &
thriftie life all the rest of their dayes. The good man getting and
bringing home, the wife sauing that which her husband should get,
therewith to be the better able to keepe good hospitalitie, according to
their estates, and to bring vp their children, (if God sent any)
vertuously, and the better by their owne good example. Finally to perseuer
all the rest of their life in true and inuiolable wedlocke. This ceremony
was omitted when men maried widowes or such as had tasted the frutes of
loue before, (we call them well experienced young women) in whom there was
no feare of daunger to their persons, or of any outcry at all, at the time
of those terrible approches. Thus much touching the vsage of _Epithalamie_
or bedding ballad of the ancient times, in which if there were any wanton
or lasciuious matter more then ordinarie which they called _Ficenina
licentia_ it was borne withal for that time because of the matter no lesse
requiring. _Catullus_ hath made of them one or two very artificiall and
ciuil: but none more excellent then of late yeares a young noble man of
Germanie as I take it _Iohannes secundus_ who in that and in his poeme _De
basis_, passeth any of the auncient or moderne Poetes in my iudgment.




  _CHAP. XXVII._

_The manner of Poesie by which they uttered their bitter taunts, and priuy
nips, or witty scoffes and other merry conceits._


Bvt all the world could not keepe, nor any ciuill ordinance to the
contrary so preuaile, but that men would and must needs vtter their
splenes in all ordinarie matters also: or else it seemed their bowels
would burst, therefore the poet deuised a prety fashioned poeme short and
sweete (as we are wont to say) and called it _Epigramma_ in which euery
mery conceited man might without any long studie or tedious ambage, make
his frend sport, and anger his foe, and giue a prettie nip, or shew a
sharpe conceit in few verses: for this _Epigramme_ is but an inscription
or writting made as it were vpon a table, or in a windowe, or vpon the
wall or mantel of a chimney in some place of common resort, where it was
allowed euery man might come, or be sitting to chat and prate, as now in
our tauernes and common tabling houses, where many merry heades meete, and
scrible with ynke with chalke, or with a cole such matters as they would
euery man should know, & descant vpon. Afterward the same came to be put
in paper and in bookes, and vsed as ordinarie missiues, some of frendship,
some of defiaunce, or as other messages of mirth: _Martiall_ was the
cheife of this skil among the Latines, & at ahese days the best Epigrames
we finde, & of the sharpest conceit are those that haue bene gathered
among the reliques of the two muet _Satyres_ in Rome, _Pasquill_ and
_Marphorir_, which in time of _Sede vacante_, when merry conceited men
listed to gibe & iest at the dead Pope, or any of his Cardinales, they
fastened them vpon those Images which now lie in the open streets, and
were tollerated, but after that terme expired they were inhibited againe.
These inscriptions or Epigrammes at their beginning had no certaine author
that would auouch them, some for feare of blame, if they were ouer saucy
or sharpe, others for modestie of the writer as was that _disticke_ of
_Virgil_ which he set vpon the pallace gate of the emperour _Augustus_,
which I will recite for the breifnes and quicknes of it, & also for
another euente that fell out vpon the matter worthy to be remembred. These
were the verses.
  _Nocte pluit tota, redeunt spectacula mane
  Diuisum imperium cum Ioue Caesar habet._
Which I haue thus Englished,
  _It raines all night, early the shewes returne
  God and Caesar, do raigne and rule by turne._

As much to say, God sheweth his power by the night raines. Caesar his
magnificence by the pompes of the day.

These two verses were very well liked, and brought to th'Emperours
Maiestie, who tooke great pleasure in them, & willed the author should be
knowen. A sausie courtier profered him selfe to be the man, and had a good
reward giuen him: for the Emperour him self was not only learned, but of
much munificence toward all learned men: whereupon _Virgill_ seing him
self by his ouermuch modestie defrauded of the reward, that an impudent
had gotten by abuse of his merit, came the next night, and fastened vpon
the same place this halfe metre, foure times iterated. Thus.
  _Sic vos non vobis
  Sic vos non vobis
  Sic vos non vobis
  Sic vos non vobis_

And there it remained a great while because no man wist what it meant,
till _Virgill_ opened the whole fraude by this deuise. He wrote aboue the
same halfe metres this whole verse _Exameter_.
  _Hos ego versiculos feci tulit alter honores._

And then finished the foure half metres, thus.
  _Sic vos non vobis      Fertis aratra boues
  Sic vos non vobis       Vellera fertis oues
  Sic vos non vobis       Mellificatis apes
  Sic vos non vobis       Indificatis aues._

And put to his name _Publius Virgilius Maro_. This matter came by and by
to Th'emperours eare, who taking great pleasure in the deuise called for
_Virgill_, and gaue him not onely a present reward, with a good allowance
of dyet a bonche in court as we vse to call it: but also held him for euer
after vpon larger triall he had made of his learning and vertue in so
great reputation, as he vouchsafed to giue him the name of a frend
(_amicus_) which among the Romanes was so great an honour and speciall
fauour, as all such persons were allowed to the Emperours table, or to the
Senatours who had receiued them (as frendes) and they were the only men
that came ordinarily to their boords, & solaced with them in their
chambers, and gardins when none other could be admitted.




  _CHAP. XXVIII._

_Of the poeme called Epitaph used for memoriall of the dead._


An Epitaph is but a kind of Epigram only applied to the report of the dead
persons estate and degree, or of his other good or bad partes, to his
commendation or reproch: and is an inscription such as a man may
commodiously write or engraue vpon a tombe in few verses, pithie, quicke
and sententious for the passer by to peruse, and iudge vpon without any
long tariaunce: So as if it exceede the measure of an Epigram, it is then
(if the verse be correspondent) rather an Elegie then an Epitaph which
errour many of these bastard rimers commit, because they be not learned,
nor (as we are wont to say) their catftes masters, for they make long and
tedious discourses, and write them in large tables to be hanged vp in
Churches and chauncells ouer the tombes of great men and others, which be
so exceeding long as one must haue halfe a dayes leasure to reade one of
them, & must be called away before he come halfe to the end, or else be
locked into the Church by the Sexten as I my selfe was once serued reading
an Epitaph in a certain cathedrall Church of England. They be ignorant of
poesie that call such long tales by the name of Epitaphes, they might
better call them Elegies, as I said before, and then ought neither to be
engrauen nor hanged vp in tables. I haue seene them neuertheles vpon many
honorable tombes of these late times erected, which doe rather disgrace
then honour either the matter or maker.




  _CHAP. XXIX._

_A certaine auncient forme of poesie by which men did vse to reproch their
enemies_.


As frendes be a rich a ioyfull possession, so be foes a continuall torment
and canker to the minde of man, and yet there is no possible meane to
auoide this inconuenience, for the best of vs all, & he that thinketh he
liues most blamelesse, liues not without enemies, that enuy him for his
good parts, or hate him for his euill. There be wise men, and of them the
great learned man _Plutarch_ that tooke vpon them to perswade the benefite
that men receiue by their enemies, which though it may be true in manner
of _Paradoxe_, yet I finde mans frailtie to be naturally such, and always
hath beene, that he cannot conceiue it in his owne case, nor shew that
patience and moderation in such greifs, as becommeth the man perfite and
accomplisht in all vertue: but either in deede or by word, he will seeke
reuenge against them that malice him, or practise his harmes, specially
such foes as oppose themselues to a mans loues. This made the auncient
Poetes to inuent a meane to rid the gall of all such Vindicatiue men: so
as they might be a wrecked of their wrong, & neuer bely their enemie with
slaunderous vntruthes. And this was done by a maner of imprecation, or as
we call it by cursing and banning of the parties, and wishing all euill to
a light vpon them, and though it neuer the sooner happened, yet was it
great easment to the boiling stomacke: They were called _Dirae_, such as
_Virgill_ made aginst _Battarus_, and _Ouide_ against _Ibis_: we
Christians are forbidden to vse such vncharitable fashions, and willed to
referre all our reuenges to God alone.




  _CHAP. XXX._

_Of short Epigrames called Posies._


There be also other like Epigrammes that were sent vsually for new yeares
giftes or to be Printed or put vpon their banketting dishes of suger
plate, or of march paines, & such other dainty meates as by the curtesie &
custome euery gest might carry from a common feast home with him to his
owne house, & were made for the nonce, they were called _Nenia_ or
_apophoreta_, and neuer contained aboue one verse, or two at the most, but
the shorter the better, we call them Posies, and do paint them now a dayes
vpon the backe sides of our fruite trenchers of wood, or vse them as
deuises in rings and armes and about such courtly purposes. So haue we
remembred and set forth to your Maiestie very briefly, all the commended
fourmes of the auncient Poesie, which we in our vulgare makings do imitate
and vse vnder these common names: enterlude, song, ballade, carroll and
ditty: borrowing them also from the French al sauing this word (song)
which is our naturall Saxon English word. The rest, such as time and
vsurpation by custome haue allowed vs out of the primitiue Greeke &
Latine, as Comedie, Tragedie, Ode, Epitaphe, Elegie, Epigramme, and other
moe. And we haue purposely omitted all nice or scholasticall curiosities
not meete for your Maiesties contemplation in this our vulgare arte, and
what we haue written of the auncient formes of Poemes, we haue taken from
the best clerks writing in the same arte. The part that next followeth to
wit of proportion, because the Greeks nor Latines neuer had it in vse, nor
made any obseruation, no more then we doe of their feete, we may truly
affirme, to haue bene the first deuisers thereof our selues, as [Greek:
autodidaktoi], and not to haue borrowed it of any other by learning or
imitation, and thereby trusting to be holden the more excusable if any
thing in this our labours happen either to mislike, or to come short of
th'authors purpose, because commonly the first attempt in any arte or
engine artificiall is amendable, & in time by often experiences reformed.
And so no doubt may this deuise of ours be, by others that shall take the
penne in hand after vs.




  _CHAP. XXXI._

_Who in any age haue bene the most commended writers in our English
Poesie, and the Authors censure giuen upon them._


It appeareth by sundry records of bookes both printed & written, that many
of our countreymen haue painfully trauelled in this part: of whose works
some appeare to be but bare translations, other some matters of their owne
inuention and very commendable, whereof some recitall shall be made in
this place, to th'intent chiefly that their names should not be defrauded
of such honour as seemeth due to them for hauing by their thankefull
studies so much beautified our English tong (as at this day) it will be
found our nation is in nothing inferiour to the French or Italian for
copie of language, subtiltie of deuice, good method and proportion in any
forme of poeme, but that they may compare with the most, and perchance
passe a great many of them. And I will not reach aboue the time of king
_Edward_ the third, and _Richard_ the second for any that wrote in English
meeter: because before their times by reason of the late Normane conquest,
which had brought into this Realme much alteration both of our langage and
lawes, and there withall a certain martiall barbarousnes, whereby the
study of all good learning was so much decayd, as long time after no man
or very few entended to write in any laudable science: so as beyond that
time there is litle or nothing worth commendation to be founde written in
this arte. And those of the first age were _Chaucer_ and _Gower_ both of
them as I suppose Knightes. After whom followed _Iohn Lydgate_ the monke
of Bury, & that nameles, who wrote the _Satyre_ called Piers Plowman, next
him followed _Harding_ the Chronicler, then in king _Henry_ th'eight times
_Skelton_, (I wot not for what great worthines) surnamed the Poet
_Laureat_. In the latter end of the same kings raigne sprong vp a new
company of courtly makers, of whom Sir _Thomas Wyat_ th'elder & _Henry_
Earle of Surrey were the two chieftaines, who hauing trauailed into
Italie, and there tasted the sweete and stately measures and stile of the
Italian Poesie as nouices newly crept out of the schooles of _Dante
Arioste_ and _Petrarch_, they greatly pollished our rude & homely maner of
vulgar Poesie, from that it had bene before, and for that cause may iustly
be sayd the first reformers of our English meetre and stile. In the same
time or not long after was the Lord _Nicholas Vaux_, a man of much
facilitie in vulgar makings. Afterward in king _Edward_ the sixths time
came to be in reputation for the same facultie _Thomas Sternehold_, who
first translated into English certaine Psalmes of Dauid, and _Iohn
Hoywood_ the Epigrammatist who for the myrth and quicknesse of his
conceits more then for any good learning was in him came to be well
benefited by the king. But the principall man in this profession at the
same time was Maister _Edward Ferrys_ a man of no lesse mirth & felicitie
that way, but of much more skil, & magnificence in this meeter, and
therefore wrate for the most part to the stage, in Tragedie and sometimes
in Comedie or Enterlude, wherein he gaue the king so much good recreation,
as he had thereby many good rewardes. In Queenes _Maries_ time florished
aboue any other Doctour _Phaer_ one that was well learned & excellently
well translated into English verse Heroicall certaine bookes of _Virgils
Aeneidos_. Since him followed Maister _Arthure Golding_, who with no lesse
commendation turned into English meetre the Metamorphosis of _Ouide_, and
that other Doctour, who made the supplement to those bookes of _Virgils
Aeneidos_, which Maister _Phaer_ left vndone. And in her Maiesties time
that now is are sprong vp an other crew of Courtly makers Noble men and
Gentlemen of her Maiesties owne seruauntes, who haue written excellently
well as it would appeare if their doings could be found out and made
publicke with the rest, of which number is first that noble Gentleman
_Edward_ Earle of Oxford, _Thomas_ Lord of Bukhurst, when he was young,
_Henry_ Lord Paget, Sir _Philip Sydney_, Sir _Walter Rawleigh_, Master
_Edward Dyar_, Maister _Fulke Greuell_, _Gascon_, _Britton_, _Turberuille_
and a great many other learned Gentlemen, whose names I do not omit for
enuie, but to auoyde tediousnesse, and who haue deserued no little
commendation. But of them all particularly this is myne opinion, that
_Chaucer_, with _Gower, Lidgat_ and _Harding_ for their antiquitie ought
to haue the first place, and _Chaucer_ as the most renowmed of them all,
for the much learning appeareth to be in him aboue any of the rest. And
though many of his bookes be but bare translations out of the Latin &
French, yet are they wel handled, as his bookes of _Troilus_ and
_Cresseid_, and the Romant of the Rose, whereof he translated but one
halfe, the deuice was _Iohn de Mehunes_ a French Poet, the Canterbury
tales were _Chaucers_ owne inuention as I suppose, and where he sheweth
more the naturall of his pleasant wit, then in any other of his workes,
his similitudes comparisons and all other descriptions are such as can not
be amended. His meetre Heroicall of _Troilus_ and _Cresseid_ is very graue
and stately, keeping the staffe of seuen, and the verse of ten, his other
verses of the Canterbury tales be but riding ryme, neuerthelesse very well
becoming the matter of that pleasaunt pilgrimage in which euery mans part
is playd with much decency. _Gower_ sauing for his good and graue
moralities, had nothing in him highly to be commended, for his verse was
homely and without good measure, his wordes strained much deale out of the
French writers, his ryme wrested, and in his inuentions small subtillitie:
the applications of his moralities are the best in him, and yet those many
times very grossely bestowed, neither doth the substance of his workes
sufficiently aunswere the subtilitie of his titles. _Lydgat_ a translatour
onely and no deuiser of that which he wrate, but one that wrate in good
verse. _Harding_ a Poet Epick or Historicall, handled himselfe well
according to the time and maner of his subiect. He that wrote the Satyr of
Piers Ploughman, seemed to haue bene a malcontent of that time, and
therefore bent himselfe wholly to taxe the disorders of that age, and
specially the pride of the Romane Clergy, of whose fall he seemeth to be a
very true Prophet, his verse is but loose meetre, and his termes hard and
obscure, so as in them is litle pleasure to be taken. _Skelton_ a sharpe
Satirist, but with more rayling and scoffery then became a Poet Lawreat,
such among the Greekes were called _Pantomimi_, with vs Buffons,
altogether applying their wits to Scurrillities & other ridiculous
matters. _Henry_ Earle of Surrey and Sir _Thomas Wyat_, betweene whom I
finde very litle difference, I repute them (as before) for the two chief
lanternes of light to all others that haue since employed their pennes
vpon English Poesie, their conceits were loftie, their stiles stately,
their conueyance cleanely, their termes proper, their meetre sweete and
well proportioned, in all imitating very naturally and studiously their
Maister _Francis Petrarcha_. The Lord _Vaux_ his commendation lyeth
chiefly in the facillitie of his meetre, and the aptnesse of his
descriptions such as he taketh vpon him to make, namely in sundry of his
Songs, wherein he sheweth the counterfait action very liuely & pleasantly.
Of the later sort I thinke thus. That for Tragedie, the Lord of Buckhurst,
& Maister _Edward Ferrys_ for such doings as I haue sene of theirs do
deserue the hyest price: Th'Earle of Oxford and Maister _Edwardes_ of her
Maiesties Chappell for Comedy and Enterlude. For Eglogue and pastorall
Poesie, Sir _Philip Sydney_ and Maister _Challenner_, and that other
Gentleman who wrate the late shepheardes Callender. For dittie and
amourous _Ode_ I finde Sir _Walter Rawleyghs_ vayne most loftie, insolent,
and passionate. Maister _Edward Dyar_, for Elegie most sweete, solempne
and of high conceit. _Gascon_ for a good meeter and for a plentifull
vayne. _Phaer_ and _Golding_ for a learned and well corrected verse,
specially in translation cleare and very faithfuly answering their
authours intent. Others haue also written with much facillitie, but more
commendably perchance if they had not written so much nor so popularly.
But last in recitall and first in degree is the Queene our soueraigne
Lady, whose learned, delicate, noble Muse, easily surmounteth all the rest
that haue written before her time or since, for sence, sweetnesse and
subtillitie, be it in Ode, Elegie, Epigram, or any other kinde of poeme
Heroick or Lyricke, wherein it shall please her Maiestie to employ her
penne, euen by as much oddes as her owne excellent estate and degree
exceedeth all the rest of her most humble vassalls.




  THE SECOND BOOKE,
  OF PROPORTION POETICAL.




  _CHAP. I._

_Of Proportion Poeticall._


It is said by such as professe the Mathematicall sciences, that all things
stand by proportion, and that without it nothing could stand to be good or
beautiful. The Doctors of our Theologie to the same effect, but in other
termes, say: that God made the world by number, measure and weight: some
for weight say tune; and peraduenture better. For weight is a kind of
measure or of much conueniencie with it: and therefore in their
descriptions be alwayes coupled together (_statica & metrica_) weight and
measures. Hereupon it seemeth the Philosopher gathers a triple proportion,
to wit, the Arithmeticall, the Geometricall, and the Musical. And by one
of these three is euery other proportion guided of the things that haue
conueniencie by relation, as the visible by light colour and shadow: the
audible by stirres, times and accents: the odorable by smelles of sundry
temperaments: the tastible by sauours to the rate: the tangible by his
obiectes in this or that regard. Of all which we leaue to speake,
returning to our poeticall proportion, which holdeth of the Musical,
because as we sayd before Poesie is a skill to speake & write
harmonically: and verses or rime be a kind of Musicall vtterance, by
reason of a certaine congruitie in sounds pleasing the eare, though not
perchance so exquisitely as the harmonicall concerts of the artificial
Musicke, consisting in strained tunes, as is the vocall Musike, or that of
melodious instruments, as Lutes, Harpes, Regals, Records and such like.
And this our proportion Poeticall resteth in fiue points: Staffe, Measure,
Concord, Scituation and figure all which shall be spoken of in their
places.




  _CHAP. II._

_Of proportion in Staffe._


Staffe in our vulgare Poesie I know not why it should be so called, unless
it be for that we vnderstand it for a bearer or supporter of a song or
ballad, not vnlike the old weake bodie, that is stayed vp by his staffe,
and were not otherwise able to walke or to stand vpright. The Italian
called it _Stanza_, as if we should say a resting place: and if we
consider well the forme of this Poeticall staffe, we shall finde it to be
a certaine number of verses allowed to go altogether and ioyne without any
intermission, and doe or should finish vp all the sentences of the same
with a full period, vnlesse it be in som special cases, & there to stay
till another staffe follow of like sort: and the shortest staffe
conteineth not vnder foure verses, nor the longest aboue ten, if it passe
that number it is rather a whole ditty then properly a staffe. Also for
the more part the staues stand rather vpon the euen nomber of verses then
the odde, though there be of both sorts. The first proportion then of a
staffe is by _quadrien_ or foure verses. The second of fiue verses, and is
seldome vsed. The third by _sizeine_ or sixe verses, and is not only most
vsual, but also very pleasant to th'eare. The fourth is in seven verses, &
is the chiefe of our ancient proportions vsed by any rimer writing any
thing of historical or graue poeme, as ye may see in _Chaucer_ and
_Lidgate_ th'one writing the loues of _Troylus_ and _Cresseida_, th'other
of the fall of Princes: both by them translated not deuised. The first
proportion is of eight verses very stately and _Heroicke_, and which I
like better then that of seuen, because it receaueth better band. The fixt
is of nine verses, rare but very graue. The seuenth proportion is of tenne
verses, very stately, but in many mens opinion too long: neuerthelesse of
very good grace & much grauitie. Of eleuen and twelue I find none ordinary
staues vsed in any vulgar language, neither doth it serue well to continue
any historicall report or ballade, or other song: but is a dittie of it
self, and no staffe, yet some moderne writers haue vsed it but very
seldome. Then last of all haue ye a proportion to be vsed in the number of
your staues, as to a caroll and a ballade, to a song, & a round, or
virelay. For to an historicall poeme no certain number is limited, but as
the matter fals out: also a _distick_ or couple of verses is not to be
accompted a staffe, but serues for a continuance as we see in Elegie,
Epitaph, Epigramme or such meetres, of plaine concord not harmonically
entertangled, as some other songs of more delicate musick be.

A staffe of foure verses containeth in it selfe matter sufficient to make
a full periode or complement of sence, though it doe not alwayes so, and
therefore may go by diuisions.

A staffe of fiue verses, is not much vsed because he that can not
comprehend his periode in foure verses, will rather driue it into six then
leaue it in fiue, for that the euen number is more agreeable to the eare
then the odde is.

A staffe of sixe verses, is very pleasant to the eare, and also serueth
for a greater complement then the inferiour staues, which maketh him more
commonly to be vsed.

A staffe of seuen verses, most vsuall with our auncient makers, also the
staffe of eight, nine and ten of larger complement then the rest, are
onely vsed by the later makers, & vnlesse they go with very good bande, do
not so well as the inferiour staues. Therefore if ye make your staffe of
eight, by two fowers not entertangled, it is not a huitaine or a staffe of
eight, but two quadreins, so is it in ten verses, not being entertangled
they be but two staues of fiue.




  _CHAP. III._

_Of proportion in measure._


Meeter and measure is all one, for what the Greekes call [Greek: metron],
the Latines call _Mensura_, and is but the quantitie of a verse, either
long or short. This quantitie with them consisteth in the number of their
feete: & with vs in the number of sillables, which are comprehended in
euery verse, not regarding his feete, otherwise then that we allow in
scanning our verse, two sillables to make one short portion (suppose it a
foote) in euery verse. And after that sort ye may say, we haue feete in
our vulgare rymes, but that is improperly: for a foote by his sence
naturall is a member of office and function, and serueth to three
purposes, that is to say, to go, to runne, & to stand still so as he must
be sometimes swift, sometimes slow, sometime vnegally marching or
peraduenture steddy. And if our feete Poeticall want these qualities it
can not be sayd a foote in sence translatiue as here. And this commeth to
passe, by reason of the euident motion and stirre, which is perceiued in
the sounding of our wordes not alwayes egall: for some aske longer, some
shorter time to be vttered in, & so by the Philosophers definition, stirre
is the true measure of time. The Greekes & Latines because their wordes
hapned to be of many sillables, and very few of one sillable, it fell out
right with them to conceiue and also to perceiue, a notable diuersitie of
motion and times in the pronuntiation of their wordes, and therefore to
euery _bissillable_ they allowed two times, & to a _trissillable_ three
times, & to euery _polisillable_ more, according to his quantitie, & their
times were some long, some short according as their motions were slow or
swift. For the sound of some sillable stayd the eare a great while, and
others slid away so quickly, as if they had not bene pronounced, then
euery sillable being allowed one time, either short or long, it fell out
that euery _tetrasillable_ had foure times, euery _trissillable_ three,
and the _bissillable_ two by which obseruation euery word, not vnder that
sise, as he ranne or stood in a verse, was called by them a foote of such
and so many times, namely the _bissillable_ was either of two long times
as the _spondeus_, or two short, as the _pirchius_, or of a long & a short
as the _trocheus_, or of a short and a long as the _iambus_: the like rule
did they set vpon the word _trissillable_, calling him a foote of three
times: as the _dactilus_ of a long and two short: the _mollossus_ of three
long, the _tribracchus_ of three short, the _amphibracchus_ of two long
and a short, the _amphimacer_ of two short and a long. The word of foure
sillables they called a foote of foure times, some or all of them, either
long or short: and yet not so content they mounted higher, and because
their wordes serued well thereto, they made feete of sixe times: but this
proceeded more of curiositie, then otherwise: for whatsoeuer foote passe
the _trissillable_ is compounded of his inferiour as euery number
Arithmeticall aboue three, is compounded of the inferiour numbers as twise
two make foure, but the three is made of one number, videl. of two and an
vnitie. Now because our naturall & primitiue language of the _Saxon
English_, beares not any wordes (at least very few) of moe sillables then
one (for whatsoeuer we see exceede, commeth to vs by the alterations of
our language growen vpon many conquestes and otherwise) there could be no
such obseruation of times in the sound of our wordes, & for that cause we
could not haue the feete which the Greeks and Latines haue in their
meetres: but of this stirre & motion of their deuised feete, nothing can
better shew the qualitie then these runners at common games, who setting
forth from the first goale, one giueth the start speedely & perhaps before
he come half way to th'other goale, decayeth his pace, as a man weary &
fainting: another is slow at the start, but by amending his pace keepes
euen with his fellow or perchance gets before him: another one while gets
ground, another while loseth it again, either in the beginning, or middle
of his race, and so proceedes vnegally sometimes swift somtimes slow as
his breath or forces serue him: another sort there be that plod on, & will
neuer change their pace, whether they win or lose the game: in this maner
doth the Greeke _dactilus_ begin slowly and keepe on swifter till th'end,
for his race being deuided into three parts, he spends one, & that is the
first slowly, the other twaine swiftly: the _anapestus_ his two first
parts swiftly, his last slowly: the _Molossus_ spends all three parts of
his race slowly and egally _Bacchius_ his first part swiftly, & two last
parts slowly. The _tribrachus_ all his three parts swiftly: the
_antibacchius_ his two first partes slowly, his last & third swiftly: the
_amphimacer_, his first & last part slowly & his middle part swiftly: the
_amphibracus_ his first and last parts swiftly but his midle part slowly,
& so of others by like proportion. This was a pretie phantasticall
obseruation of them, & yet brought their meetres to haue a maruelous good
grace, which was in Greeke called [Greek: rithmos]: whence we haue deriued
this word ryme, but improperly & not wel because we haue no such feete or
times or stirres in our meeters, by whose _simpathie_, or pleasant
conueniencie with th'eare, we could take any delight: this _rithmus_ of
theirs, is not therfore our rime, but a certaine musicall numerositie in
vtterance, and not a bare number as that of the Arithmeticall computation
is, which therefore is not called _rithmus_ but _arithmus_. Take this away
from them, I meane the running of their feete, there is nothing of
curiositie among them more then with vs nor yet so much.




  _CHAP. III._

_How many sorts of measures we use in our vulgar._


To returne from rime to our measure againe, it hath bene sayd that
according to the number of the sillables contained in euery verse, the
same is sayd a long or short meeter, and his shortest proportion is of
foure sillables, and his longest of twelue, they that vse it aboue, passe
the bounds of good proportion. And euery meeter may be aswel in the odde
as in the euen sillable, but better in the euen, and one verse may begin
in the euen, & another follow in the odde, and so keepe a commendable
proportion. The verse that containeth but two silables which may be in one
word, is not vsuall: therefore many do deny him to be a verse, saying that
it is but a foot, and that a meeter can haue no lesse then two feete at
the least, but I find it otherwise aswell among the best Italian Poets, as
also with our vulgar makers, and that two sillables serue wel for a short
measure in the first place, and midle, and end of a staffe: and also in
diuerse scituations and by sundry distances, and is very passionate and of
good grace, as shalbe declared more at large in the Chapter of proportion
by scituation.

The next measure is of two feete or of foure sillables, and then one word
_tetrasillable_ diuided in the middest makes vp the whole meeter, as thus
  _Re-ue-  re-ntli-e_

Or a trissillable and one monosillable thus. _Soueraine God_, or two
bissillables and that is plesant thus, _Restore againe_, or with foure
monosillables, and that is best of all thus, _When I doe thinke_, I finde
no fauour in a meetre of three sillables nor in effect in any odde, but
they may be vsed for varietie sake, and specially being enterlaced with
others the meetre of six sillables is very sweete and dilicate as thus.
  _O God when I behold
  This bright heauen so hye
  By thine owne hands of old
  Contrivd so cunningly._

The meter of seuen sillables is not vsual, no more is that of nine and
eleuen, yet if they be well composed, that is, their _Cesure_ well
appointed, and their last accent which makes the concord, they are
commendable inough, as in this ditty where one verse is of eight an other
is of seuen, and in the one the accent vpon the last, in the other vpon
the last saue on.
  _The smoakie sighes, the bitter teares
  That I in vaine haue wasted
  The broken sleepes, the woe and feares
  That long time haue lasted
  Will be my death, all by thy guilt
  And not by my deseruing
  Since so inconstantly thou wilt
  Not loue but still be sweruing_.

And all the reason why these meeters in all sillable are allowable is, for
that the sharpe accent falles vpon the _penulitma_ or last saue one
sillable of the verse, which doth so drowne the last, as he seemeth to
passe away in maner vnpronounced, & so make the verse seeme euen: but if
the accent fall vpon the last and leaue two flat to finish the verse, it
will not feeme so: for the odnes will more notoriously appeare, as for
example in the last verse before recited _Not loue but still be sweruing_,
say thus _Loue it is a maruelous thing._ Both verses be of egall
quantitie, vidz. seauen sillables a peece, and yet the first seemes
shorter then the later, who shewes a more odnesse then the former by
reason of his sharpe accent which is vpon the last sillable, and makes him
more audible then if he had slid away with a flat accent, as the word
_swéruing._

Your ordinarie rimers vse very much their measures in the odde as nine and
eleuen, and the sharpe accent vpon the last sillable, which therefore
makes him go ill fauouredly and like a minstrels musicke. Thus sayd one in
a meeter of eleven very harshly in mine eare, whether it be for lacke of
good rime or of good reason, or of both I wot not.
  _Now sucke childe and sleepe childe, thy mothers owne ioy
  Her only sweete comfort, to drowne all annoy
  For beauty surpassing the azured skie
  I loue thee my darling, as ball of mine eye._

This sort of compotition in the odde I like not, vnlesse it be holpen by
the _Cesure_ or by the accent as I sayd before.

The meeter of eight is no lesse pleasant then that of sixe, and the
_Cesure_ fals iust in the middle, as this of the Earle of Surreyes.
  _When raging loue, with extreme payne._

The meeter of ten sillables is very stately and Heroicall, and must haue
his _Cesure_ fall vpon the fourth sillable, and leaue sixe behind him
thus.
  _I serue at ease, and gouerne all with woe._

This meeter of twelue sillables the French man calleth a verse
_Alexandrine_, and is with our moderne rimers most usuall: with the
auncient makers it was not so. For before Sir _Thomas Wiats_ time they
were not vsed in our vulgar, they be for graue and stately matters fitter
than for any other ditty of pleasure. Some makers write in verses of
foureteene sillables giuing the _Cesure_ at the first eight, which
proportion is tedious, for the length of the verse kepeth the eare too
long from his delight, which is to heare the cadence or the tuneable
accent in the ende of the verse. Neuerthelesse that of twelue if his
_Cesure_ be iust in the middle, and that ye suffer him to runne at full
length, and do not as the common rimers do; or their Printer for sparing
of paper, cut them of in the middest, wherin they make in two verses but
halfe rime. They do very wel as wrote the Earle of Surrey translating the
booke of the preacher.
  _Salomon Davids sonne, king of Ierusalem._

This verse is a very good _Alexandrine_, but perchaunce woulde haue
sounded more musically, if the first word had bene a dissillable, or two
monosillables and not a trissillable: hauing his sharpe accent vppon the
_Antepenultima_ as it hath, by which occasion it runnes like a _Dactill_,
and carries the two later sillables away so speedily as it seemes but one
foote in our vulgar measure, and by that meanes makes the verse seeme but
of eleuen sillables, which odnesse is nothing pleasant to the eare. Iudge
some body whether it would haue done better (if it might) haue bene fayd
thus,
  _Robóham Dauids sonne, king of Ierusalem._
Letting the sharpe accent fall vpon _bo_, or thus
  _Restóre king Dáuids sónne vntó Ierúsalém_.
For now the sharpe accent falles vpon _bo_, and so doth it vpon the last
in _restóre_, which was not in th'other verse. But because we haue seemed
to make mention of _Cesure_, and to appoint his place in euery measure, it
shall not be amisse to say somewhat more of it, & also of such pauses as
are vsed in vtterance, & what commoditie or delectation they bring either
to the speakers or to the hearers.




  _CHAP. IIII._

_Of Cesure._


There is no greater difference betwixt a ciuill and brutish vtteraunce
then cleare distinction of voices: and the most laudable languages are
alwaies most plaine and distinct, and the barbarous most confuse and
indistinct: it is therefore requisit that leasure be taken in
pronuntiation, such as may make our wordes plaine & most audible and
agreable to the eare: also the breath asketh to be now and then releeued
with some pause or stay more or lesse: besides that the very nature of
speach (because it goeth by clauses of seuerall construction & sence)
requireth some space betwixt them with intermission of sound, to th'end
they may not huddle one vpon another so rudly & so fast that th'eare may
not perceiue their difference. For these respectes the auncient reformers
of language, inuented, three maner of pauses, one of lesse leasure then
another, and such seuerall intermissions of sound to serue( besides
easment to the breath) for a treble distinction of sentences or parts of
speach, as they happened to be more or lesse perfect in sence. The
shortest pause or intermission they called _comma_ as who would say a
peece of a speach cut of. The second they called _colon_, not a peece but
as it were a member for his larger length, because it occupied twice as
much time as the _comma_. The third they called _periodus_, for a
complement or full pause, and as a resting place and perfection of so much
former speach as had bene vttered, and from whence they needed not to
passe any further vnles it were to renew more matter to enlarge the tale.
This cannot be better represented then by example of these common
trauailers by the hie ways, where they seeme to allow themselues three
maner of staies or easements: one a horsebacke calling perchaunce for a
cup of beere or wine, and hauing dronken it vp rides away and neuer
lights: about noone he commeth to his Inne, & there baites him selfe and
his horse an houre or more: at night when he can conueniently trauaile no
further, he taketh vp his lodging, and rests him selfe till the morrow:
from whence he followeth the course of a further voyage, if his business
be such. Euen so our Poet when he hath made one verse, hath as it were
finished one dayes iourney, & the while easeth him selfe with one baite at
the least, which is a _Comma_ or _Cesure_ in the mid way, if the verse be
euen and not odde, otherwise in some other place, and not iust in the
middle. If there be no _Cesure_ at all, and the verse long, the lesse is
the makers skill and hearers delight. Therefore in a verse of twelue
sillables the _Cesure_ ought to fall right vpon the sixt sillable: in a
verse of eleuen vpon the sixt also leauing fiue to follow. In a verse of
ten vpon the fourth, leaving sixe to follow. In a verse of nine vpon the
fourth, leauing fiue to follow. In a verse of eight iust in the middest,
that is, vpon the fourth. In a verse of seauen, either vpon the fourth or
none at all, the meeter very ill brooking any pause. In a verse of sixe
sillables and vnder is needefull no _Cesure_ at all, because the breath
asketh no reliefe: yet if ye giue any _Comma_, it is to make distinction
of sense more then for any thing else: and such _Cesure_ must neuer be
made in the middest of any word, if it be well appointed. So may you see
that the vse of these pawses or distinctions is not generally with the
vulgar Poet as it is with the Prose writer because the Poetes cheife
Musicke lying in his rime or concorde to heare the Simphonie, he maketh
all the hast he can to be at an end of his verse, and delights not in many
stayes by the way, and therefore giueth but one _Cesure_ to any verse: and
thus much for the sounding of a meetre. Neuerthelesse he may vse in any
verse both his _comma, colon_, and _interrogatiue_ point, as well as in
prose. But our auncient rymers, as _Chaucer, Lydgate_ & others, vsed these
_Cesures_ either very seldome, or not at all, or else very licentiously,
and many times made their meetres (they called them riding ryme) of such
vnshapely wordes as would allow no conuenient _Cesure_, and therefore did
let their rymes runne out at length, and neuer stayd till they came to the
end: which maner though it were not to be misliked in some sort of meetre,
yet in euery long verse the _Cesure_ ought to be kept precisely, if it
were but to serue as a law to correct the licentiousnesse of rymers,
besides that it pleaseth the eare better, & sheweth more cunning in the
maker by following the rule of his restraint. For a rymer that will be
tyed to no rules at all, but range as he list, may easily vtter what he
will: but such maner of Poesie is called in our vulgar, ryme dogrell, with
which rebuke we will in no case our maker should be touched. Therfore
before all other things let his ryme and concordes be true, cleare, and
audible with no lesse delight, then almost the strayned note of a
Musicians mouth, & not darke or wrenched by wrong writing as many doe to
patch vp their meetres, and so follow in their arte neither rule, reason,
nor ryme. Much more might be sayd for the vse of your three pauses,
_comma_, _colon_, & _periode_, for perchance it be not all a matter to vse
many _commas_, and few, nor _colons_ likewise, or long or short
_periodes_, for it is diuersly vsed, by diuers good writers. But because
it apperteineth more to the oratour or writer in prose then in verse, I
will say no more in it, then thus, that they be vsed for a commodious and
sensible distinction of clauses in prose, since euery verse is as it were
a clause of it selfe and limited with a _Cesure_ howsoeuer the sence
beare, perfect or imperfect, which difference is obseruable betwixt the
prose and the meeter.




  _CHAP. V._

_Of Proportion in Concord, called Symphonie or rime._


Because we vse the word rime (though by maner of abusion) yet to helpe
that fault againe we apply it in our vulgar Poesie another way very
commendably & curiously. For wanting the currantnesse of the Greeke and
Latine feete, in stead thereof we make in th'ends of our verses a certaine
tunable sound: which anon after with another verse reasonably distant we
accord together in the last fall or cadence: the eare taking pleasure to
heare the like tune reported, and to feele hie returne. And for this
purpose serue the _monosillables_ of our English Saxons excellently well,
because they do naturally and indifferently receiue any accent, & in them
if they finish the verse, resteth the shrill accent of necessitie, and so
doth it not in the last of euery _bissillable_, nor of euery
_polisillable_ word: but to the purpose, _ryme_ is a borrowed word from
the Greeks by the Latines and French, from them by vs Saxon angles and by
abusion as hath bene sayd, and therefore it shall not do amisse to tell
what this _rithmos_ was with the Greekes, for what is it with vs hath bene
already sayd. There is an accomptable number which we call _arithmeticall
(arithmos)_ as one, two, three. There is also a musicall or audible
number, fashioned by stirring of tunes & their sundry times in the
vtterance of our wordes, as when the voice goeth high or low, or sharpe or
flat, or swift or slow: & this is called _rithmos_ or numerositie, that is
to say, a certaine flowing vtteraunce by slipper words and sillables, such
as the toung easily vtters, and the eare with pleasure receiueth, and
which flowing of wordes with much volubilitie smoothly proceeding from the
mouth is in some sort _harmonicall_ and breedeth to th'eare a great
compasiion. This point grew by the smooth and delicate running of their
feete, which we haue not in our vulgare, though we use as much as may be
the most flowing words & slippery sillables, that we can picke out: yet do
not we call that by the name of ryme, as the Greekes did: but do give the
name of ryme onely to our concordes, or tunable consentes in the latter
end of our verses, and which concords the Greekes nor Latines neuer vsed
in their Poesie till by the barbarous souldiers out of the campe, it was
brought into the Court and thence to the schoole, as hath bene before
remembred: and yet the Greekes and Latines both vsed a maner of speach, by
clauses of like termination, which they called [Greek: illegible] and
was the nearest that they approched to our ryme: but is not our right
concord: so as we in abusing this terme (_ryme_) be neuertheless excusable
applying it to another point in Poesie no lesse curious then their
_rithme_ or numerositie which in deede passed the whole verse throughout,
whereas our concordes keepe but the latter end of euery verse, or
perchaunce the middle and the end in metres that be long.




  _CHAP. VI._

_Of accent, time and stir perceiued euidently in the distinction of mans
voice, and which makes the flowing of a meeter._


Nowe because we haue spoken of accent, time and stirre or motion in
wordes, we will set you downe more at large what they be. The auncient
Greekes and Latines by reason their speech fell out originally to be
fashioned with words of many syllables for the most part, it was of
necessity that they could not vtter euery sillable with one like and egall
sounde, nor in like space of time, nor with like motion or agility: but
that one must be more suddenly and quickely forsaken, or longer pawsed
vpon then another: or sounded with a higher note & clearer voyce then
another, and of necessitie this diuersitie of sound, must fall either vpon
the last sillable, or vpon the last saue one, or vpon the third and could
not reach higher to make any notable difference; it caused them to giue
vunto three different sounds three seuerall names: to that which was
highest lift vp and most eleuate or shrillest in the eare, they gaue the
name of the sharpe accent, to the lowest and most base because it seemed
to fall downe rather then to rise vp, they gaue the name of the heauy
accent, and that other which seemed in part to lift vp and in part to fall
downe, they called the circumflex, or compast accent: and if new termes
were not odious, we might very properly call him the (windabout) for so is
the Greek word. Then bycause euery thing that by nature fals down is said
heauy, & whatsoever naturally mounts upward is said light, it gaue
occasion to say that there were diuersities in the motion of the voice, as
swift & slow, which motion also presupposes time, by cause time is
_mensura motus_, by the Philosopher: so haue you the causes of their
primitiue inuention and vse in our arte of Poesie, all this by good
obseruation we may perceiue in our vulgar wordes if they be of mo
sillables then one, but specially if they be _trissillables_, as for
example in these wordes [_altitude_] and [_heauinesse_] the sharpe accent
falles vpon [_al_] & [_he_] which be the _antepenultimaes:_ the other two
fall away speedily as if they were scarse founded in this _trissilable
[forsaken]_ the sharp accent fals vpon [_sa_] which is the _penultima_,
and in the other two is heauie and obscure. Againe in these _bisillables,
endúre, unsúre, demúre, aspíre, desíre, retíre_, your sharpe accent falles
vpon the last sillable: but in words _monosillable_ which be for the more
part our naturall Saxon English, the accent is indifferent, and may be
vsed for sharp or flat and heauy at our pleasure. I say Saxon English, for
our Normane English alloweth vs very many _bissillables_, and also
_triffilables_ as, _reuerence, diligence, amorous, desirous_, and such
like.




  _CHAP. VII._

_Of your Cadences by which your meeter is made Symphonicall
when they be sweetest and most solemne in a verse._


As the smoothenesse of your words and sillables running vpon feete of
sundrie qualities, make with the Greekes and Latines the body of their
verses numerous or Rithmicall, so in our vulgar Poesie, and of all other
nations at this day, your verses answering eche other by couples, or at
larger distances in good [_cadence_] is it that maketh your meeter
symphonicall. This cadence is the fal of a verse in euery last word with a
certaine tunable sound which being matched with another of like sound, do
make a [_concord_.] And the whole cadence is contained sometime in one
sillable, sometime in two, or in three at the most: for aboue the
_antepenultima_ there reacheth no accent (which is chiefe cause of the
cadence) vnlesse it be vsurpation in some English words, to which we giue
a sharpe accent vpon the fourth as, _Hónorable, mátrimonie, pátrimonie,
míserable_, and such other as would neither make a sweete cadence, nor
easily find any word of like quantitie to match them. And the accented
sillable with all the rest vnder him make the cadence, and no sillable
aboue, as in these words, _Agíllitie, facíllitie, subiéction, diréction_,
and these bissilables, _Ténder, slénder, trústie, lústie, but alwayes the
cadence which falleth vpon the last sillable of a verse is sweetest and
most commendable: that vpon the _penultima_ more light, and not so
pleasant: but falling vpon the _antepenultima_ is most vnpleasant of all,
because they make your meeter too light and triuiall, and are fitter for
the Epigrammatist or Comicall Poet then for the Lyrick and Elegiack, which
are accompted the sweeter Musickes. But though we haue sayd that (to make
good concored) your seuerall verses should haue their cadences like, yet
must there be some difference in their orthographie, though not in their
sound, as if one cadence be [_constraine_] the next [_restraine_] or one
[_aspire_] another [_respire_] this maketh no good concord, because they
are all one, but if ye will exchange both these consonants of the accented
sillable, or voyde but one of them away, then will your cadences be good
and your concord to, as to say, _restraine, refraine, remaine: aspire,
desire, retire_: which rule neuerthelesse is not well obserued by many
makers for lacke of good iudgement and a delicate eare. And this may
suffise to shew the vse and nature of your cadences, which are in effect
all the sweetnesse and cunning in our vulgar Poesie.




  _CHAP. VIII_

_How the good maker will not wrench his word to helpe his rime, either by
falsifying his accent, or by untrue orthographie._


Now there can not be in a maker a fowler fault then to falsifie his accent
to serue his cadence, or by vntrue orthographie to wrench his words to
helpe his rime, for it is a signe that such a maker is not copious in his
owne language, or (as they are wont to say) not halfe his crafts maister:
as for example, if one should rime to this word [_Restore_] he may not
match him with [_Doore_] or [_Poore_] for neither of both are of like
terminant, either by good orthography or in naturall sound, therfore such
rime is strained, so is it to this word [_Ram_] to say [_came_] or to
[_Beane [_Den_] for they sound not nor be written alike, & many other like
cadences which were superfluous to recite, and are vsuall with rude rimers
who obserue not precisely the rules of [_prosodie_] neuerthelesse in all
such cases (if necessitie constrained) it is somewhat more tolerable to
help the rime by false orthographie, than to leaue an unpleasant
dissonance to the eare, by keeping trewe orthographie and loosing the
rime, as for example it is better to rime [_Dore_] with [_Restore_] then
in his truer orthographie, which is [_Doore_] and to this word [_Desire_]
to say [_Fier_] then fyre though it be otherwise better written _fire_.
For since the cheife grace of our vulgar Poesie consisteth in the
Symphonie, as hath bene already sayd, our maker must not be too licentious
in his concords, but see that they go euen, iust and melodious in the
eare, and right so in the numerositie or currantnesse of the whole body of
his verse, and in euery other of his proportions. For a licentious maker
is in truth but a bungler and not a Poet. Such men were in effect the most
part of all your old rimers and specially _Gower_, who to make vp his rime
would for the most part write his terminant sillable with false
orthographie, and many times not sticke to put in a plaine French word for
an English, & so by your leaue do many of our common rimers at this day:
as he that by all likelyhood, hauing no word at hand to rime to this word
[_ioy_] he made his other verse ende in [_Roy_] saying very impudently
thus,
  _O mightie Lord of loue, dame Venus onely ioy
  Who art the highest God of any heauenly Roy._
Which word was neuer yet receiued in our language for an English word.
Such extreme licentiousnesse is vtterly to be banished from our schoole,
and better it might haue bene borne with in old riming writers, bycause
they liued in a barbarous age, & were graue morall men but very homely
Poets, such also as made most of their workes by translation out of the
Latine and French toung, & few or none of their owne engine as may easely
be knowen to them that list to looke vpon the Poemes of both languages.

Finally as ye may ryme with wordes of all sortes, be they of many
sillables or few, so neuerthelesse is there a choise by which to make your
cadence (before remembred) most commendable, for some wordes of exceeding
great length, which haue bene fetched from the Latine inkhome or borrowed
of strangers, the vse of them in ryme is nothing pleasant, sauing
perchaunce to the common people, who reioyce much to be at playes and
enterludes, and besides their naturall ignoraunce, haue at all such times
their eares so attentiue to the matter, and their eyes vpon the shewes of
the stage, that they take little heede to the cunning of the rime, and
therefore be as well satisfied with that which is grosse, as with any
other finer and more delicate.




  _Chap. IX._

_Of Concorde in long and short measures, and by neare or farre distaunces,
and which of them is most commendable_.


But this ye must obserue withall, that bycause your concords containe the
chief part of Musicke in your meetre, their distaunces may not be too wide
or farre asunder, lest th'eare should loose the tune, and be defrauded of
his delight, and whensoeuer ye see any maker vse large and extraordinary
distaunces, ye must thinke he doth intende to shew himselfe more
artificiall then popular, and yet therein is not to be discommended, for
respects that shalbe remembred in some other place of this booke.

Note also that rime or concorde is not commendably vsed both in the end
and middle of a verse, vnlesse it be in toyes and trifling Poesies, for it
sheweth a certaine lightnesse either of the matter or of the makers head,
albeit these common rimers vse it much, for as I sayd before, like as the
Symphonie in a versse of great length, is (as it were) lost by looking
after him, and yet may the meetre be very graue and stately: so on the
other side doth the ouer busie and too speedy returne of one maner of
tune, too much annoy & as it were glut the eare, vnlesse it be in small &
popular Musickes song by thesse _Cantabanqui_ vpon benches and barrels
heads where they haue none other audience then boys or countrey fellowes
that passse by them in the streete, or else by blind harpers or such like
tauerne minstrels that giue a fit of mirth for a groat, & their matters
being for the most part stories of old time, as the tale of Sir _Topas_,
the reportes of _Beuis_ of _Southampton, Guy_ of _Warwicke, Adam Bell_,
and _Clymme of the Clough_ & such other old Romances or historicall rimes,
made purposely for recreation of the common people at Christmasse diners &
brideales, and in tauernes & alehouses and such other places of base
resort, also they be vsed in Carols and rounds and such light or
lasciuious Poemes, which are commonly more commodiously vttered by these
buffons or vices in playes then by any other person. Such were the rimes
of _Skelton_ (vsurping the name of a Poet Laureat) being in deede but a
rude rayling rimer & all his doings ridiculous, he vsed both short
distaunces and short measures pleasing onely the popular eare: in our
courtly maker we banish them vtterly. Now also haue ye in euery song or
ditty concorde by compasse & concorde entertangled and a mixt of both,
what that is and how they be vsed shalbe declared in the chapter of
proportion by _scituation._




  _CHAP. X_

_Of proportion by situation._


This proportion consisteth in placing of euery verse in a staffe or ditty
by such reasonable distaunces, as may best serue the eare for delight, and
also to shew the Poets art and variety of Musick, and the proportion is
double. One by marshalling the meetres, and limiting their distaunces
hauing regard to the rime or concorde how they go and returne: another by
placing euery verse, hauing a regard to his measure and quantitie onely,
and not to his concorde as to set one short meetre to three long, or foure
short and two long, or a short measure and a long, or of diuers lengthes
with relation one to another, which maner of _Situation_, euen without
respect of the rime, doth alter the nature of the Poesie, and make it
either lighter or grauer, or more merry, or mournfull, and many wayes
passionate to the eare and hart of the hearer, seeming for this point that
our maker by his measures and concordes of sundry proprotions doth
counterfait the harmonicall tunes of the vocall and instrumentall
Musickes. As the _Dorian_ because his falls, sallyes and compasse be
diuers from those of the _Phrigien_, the _Phrigien_ likewise from the
_Lydien_, and all three from the _Eolien, Miolidien_, and _Ionien_,
mounting and falling from note to note such as be to them peculiar, and
with more or lesse leasure or precipitation. Euen so by diuersitie of
placing and situation of your measures and concords, a short with a long,
and by narrow or wide distances, or thicker or thinner bestowing of them
your proportions differ, and breedeth a variable and strange harmonie not
onely in the eare, but also in the conceit of them that heare it, whereof
this may be an ocular example.

[Illustration: diagram of four lines with line one connected to line three
and line two connected to line four.]
Scituation in Concord ---------- \
                      ----------  ) \
                      ---------- /   )
                      ----------    /

Scituation in Measure ------                   ------------
                      -------                  ---------
                      --------                 ------------
                      ---------                ------
                      ---------                ---------
                      --------                 ------------
                      -------                  ------
                      ------                   ------------
                                               ------------
                                               ------
                                               ------

Where ye see the concord or rime in the third distance, and the measure in
the fourth, sixth or second distaunces, where of ye may deuise as many
others as ye list, so the staffe be able to beare it. And I set you downe
an occular example: because ye may the better conceiue it. Likewise it so
falleth out most times your ocular proportion doeth declare the nature of
the audible: for if it please the eare well, the fame represented by
delineation to the view pleaseth the eye well and _é conuerso:_ and this
is by a naturall _simpathie_, betweene the eare and the eye, and betweene
tunes & colours euen as there is the like betweene the other sences and
their obiects of which it apperteineth not here to speake. Now for the
distances vsually obserued in our vulgar Poesie, they be in the first
second third and fourth verse, or if the verse be very short in the fift
and sixt and in some maner of Musickes farre aboue.

And the first distance for the most part goeth all by _distick_ or couples
of verses agreeing in one cadence, and do passe so speedily away away and
so often returne agayne, as their tunes are neuer lost, nor out of the
eare, one couple supplying another so nye and so suddenly, and this is the
most vulgar proportion of distance or situation, such as vsed _Chaucer_ in
his Canterbury tales, and _Gower_ in all his workes.

[Illustration: diagram of four lines with line one connected to line two
and line three connected to line four.]

Second distance is, when ye passe ouer one verse, and ioyne the first and
the third, and so continue on till an other like distance fall in, and
this is also usuall and common, as

[Illustration: diagram of four lines with line one connected to line three
and line two connected to line four.]

Third distauce is, when your rime falleth vpon the first and fourth verse
ouerleaping two; this manner is not so common but pleasant and allowable
inough.

[Illustration: diagram of four lines with line one connected to line four
and line two connected to line three.]

In which case the two verses ye leaue out are ready to receiue their
concordes by the same distaunce or any other ye like better.

The fourth distaunce is by ouerskipping three verses and lighting vpon the
fift, this manner is rare and more artificiall then popular, vnlesse it be
in some special case, as when the meetres be so little and short as they
make no shew of any great delay before they returne, ye shall haue example
of both.

[Illustration: two diagrams: the first of five lines with line 1
connected to line 5 and lines 2, 3, and 4 connected;
the second of ten lines with line 1 and 5 connected, lines 2 and 6
connected, lines 3 and 7 connected, lines 4 and 8 connected, lines 5 and 9
connected, and lines 8 and 10 connected.]

And these ten litle meeters make but one Decameter at length.

  --,--,--,--,--,--,--,--,--,--,

There be larger distances also, as when the first concord falleth upon the
sixt verse & is very pleasant if they be ioyned with other distances not
so large as

[Illustration: diagram of six lines with lines 1 and 6 connected,
line 2 and 5 connected, and lines 3 and 4 connected.]

There be also, of the seuenth, eight, tenth, and twefth distance, but then
they may not go thicke, but two or three such distances serue to
proportion a whole song, and all betweene must be of other lesse
distances, and these wide distaunces serue for coupling of slaues, or for
to declare high and passionate or graue matter, and also for art:
_Petrarch_ hath giuen us examples hereof in his _Canzoni_, and we by lines
of sundry lengths & and distances as followeth,

[Illustration: four diagrams: first of eight lines with lines 1 and 8
connected, 2 and 3 connected, 4 and 5 connected, and 6 and 7 connected;
second of ten lines with lines 1 and 10 connected, 2 and 4 connected, 3
and 5 connected, 5 and 7 connected, 6 and 8 connected and 7 and 9
connected;
third of twelve lines with lines 1 and 12 connected, 2 and 5 connected, 3
and 4 connected, and 6 and 9 connected, 7 and 8 connected, 9 and 12
connected, 10 and 11 connected;
fourth of thirteen lines with 1 and 13 connected, 2 and 5 connected, 3 and
4 connected, 6 and 9 connected, 7 and 8 connected, 10 and 13 connected,
and 11 and 12 connected.]

And all that can be obiected against this wide distance is to say that the
eare by loosing his concord is not satisfied. So is in deede the rude and
popular eare but not the learned, and therefore the Poet must know to
whose eare he maketh his rime, and accommodate himselfe thereto, and not
giue such musicke to the rude and barbarous, as he would to the learned
and delicate eare.

There is another sort of proportion used by _Petrarche_ called the
_Seizino_, not riming as other songs do, but by chusing sixe wordes out of
which all the whole dittie is made, euery of those sixe commencing and
ending his verse by course, which restraint to make the dittie sensible
will try the makers cunning, as thus.
    --------------- )
  ( --------------- )
  ( --------------- )
  ( --------------- )
  ( --------------- )
  ( ---------------

Besides all this there is in _Situation_ of the concords two other
points, one that it go by plaine and cleere compasse not intangled:
another by enterweauing one with another by knots, or as it were
by band, which is more or lesse busie and curious, all as the maker
will double or redouble his rime or concords, and set his distances
farre or nigh, of all which I will giue you ocular examples, as thus.

[Illustration: two diagrams: Concord in Plaine compasse, has four lines
with 1 and 4 connected and 2 and 3 connected;
Concord in Entertangle, has alternating lines connected - 1 and 3, 2 and
4, 3 and 5, etc.]

And first in a _Quadreine_ there are but two proportions, for foure verses
in this last sort coupled, are but two _Disticks_, and not a staffe
_quadreine_ or of foure.

[Illustration: three diagrams of four lines each:
first, with lines 1 and 4 connected and lines 2 and 3 connected;
second, with lines 1 and 3 connected and lines 2 and 4 connected;
third, with lines 1 and 2 connected and lines 3 and 4 connected.]

The staffe of fiue hath seuen proportions, whereof some of them be harsher
and vnpleasaunter to the eare then other some be.

[Illustration: seven diagrams of five lines each:
first, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 4, 3 with 5;
second, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 4, 2 with 5, 3 with 4;
third, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 2, 2 with 5, 3 with 4;
fourth, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 4, 2 with 3, 4 with 5;
fifth, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 5, 2 with 3, 3 with 4;
sixth, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 4, 4 with 5;
seventh, connecting these pairs of lines - 1 with 2, 2 with 4, 3 with 5.]

The _Sixaine_ or staffe of sixe hath ten proportions, whereof some be
vsuall, some not vsuall, and not so sweet one as another.

[Illustration: ten diagrams of six lines each:
first, connecting these lines - 1 with 6, 2 with 5, 3 with 4;
second, connecting these lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 4, 5 with 6;
third, connecting these lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 6, 3 with 4 and 5;
fourth, connecting these lines - 1 with 4, 2 with 5, 3 with 6;
fifth, connecting these lines - 1 with 6, 2 with 4, 3 with 5;
sixth, connecting these lines - 1 with 6, 2 with 3, 4 with 5;
seventh, connecting these lines - 1 with 5, 2 with 6, 3 with 4;
eighth, connecting these lines - 1 with 2, 5 and 6, 3 with 4;
ninth, connecting these lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 5, 4 with 6;
tenth, connecting these lines - 1 with 2 and 4, 3 with 5 and 6.]

The staffe of seuen verses hath seuen proportions, whereof one onley is
the vsuall of our vulgar, and kept by our old Poets _Chaucer_ and other in
their historicall reports and other ditties: as in the last part of them
that follow next.

[Illustration: eight diagrams of seven lines each:
first, connecting these lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 4, 4 with 6, 5 with 7;
second, connecting these lines - 1 with 3, 2 with 4, 3 with 5, 6 with 7;
third, connecting these lines - 1 with 4, 2 with 3, 4 with 7, 5 with 6;
fourth, connecting these lines - 1 with 2, 6 and 7, 3 with 4 and 5;
fifth, connecting these lines - 1 with 7, 2 with 6, 3 with 4 and 5;
sixth, connecting these lines - 1 with 2, 5 and 6, 3 with 4 and 7;
seventh, connecting these lines - 1 with 4 and 7, 2 with 3, 5 and 6;
eighth, connecting these lines - 1 with 2, 3 with 4 and 5, 6 with 7.]

The _huitain_ or staffe of eight verses, hath eight proportions such as
the former staffe, and is because he is longer, he hath one more then the
_sestaine_.

The staffe of nine verses hath yet moe then the eight, and the staffe of
ten more then the ninth and the twelfth, if such were allowable in
ditties, more then any of them all, by reason of his largenesse receiuing
moe compasses and enterweauings, alwayes considered that the very large
distances be more artificiall, then popularly pleasant, and yet do giue
great grace and grauitie, and moue passion and affections more vehemently,
as it is well to be obserued by _Petrarcha_ his _Canzoni_.

Now ye may perceiue by these proportions before described, that there is a
band to be giuen euery verse in a staffe, so as none fall out alone or
vncoupled, and this band maketh that the staffe is sayd fast and not
loose: euen as ye see in buildings of stone or bricke the mason giueth a
band, that is a length to two breadths, & vpon necessitie diuers other
sorts of bands to hold in the worke fast and maintaine the
perpendicularitie of the wall: so in any staffe of seuen or eight or more
verses, the coupling of the moe meeters by rime or concord, is the faster
band: the fewer the looser band, and therefore in a _huiteine_ he that
putteth foure verses in one concord and foure in another concord, and in a
_dizaine_ fiue, sheweth him selfe more cunning, and also more copious in
his owne language. For he that can find two words of concord, can not find
foure or fiue or sixe, vnlesse he haue his owne language at will.
Sometimes also ye are driuen of neccesitie to close and make band more
then ye would, lest otherwise the staffe should fall asunder and seeme two
staues: and this is in a staffe of eight and ten verses: whereas without a
band in the middle, it would seeme two _quadriens_ or two _quintaines_,
which is an error that many makers slide away with. Yet _Chaucer_ and
others in the staffe of seuen and sixe do almost as much a misse, for they
shut vp the staffe with a _disticke_, concording with none other verse
that went before, and maketh but a loose rime, and yet bycause of the
double cadence in the last two verses serue the eare well inough. And as
there is in euery staffe, band, giuen to the verses by concord more or
lesse busie: so is there in some cases a band giuen to euery staffe, and
that is by one whole verse running alone throughout the ditty or ballade,
either in the middle or end of euery staffe. The Greekes called such
vncoupled verse _Epimonie_, the Latines _Versus intercallaris_. Now
touching the situation of measures, there are as manie or more proportions
of them which I referre to the makers phantasie and choise, contented with
two or three ocular examples and no moe.

-------                        ----------    ----------    ------
---------                      ----------    ----------    --------------
-------------    ----------    ----          ----------    --------------
-------------    --------      ----          ----------    --------------
---------        ------        ----------    ----          ------
-------          ------        ----------    ------        --------------
---------        --------      ----          ------        --------------
-----------      ----------    ----          ------        --------------
-------------                  ----------    ----          ------

Which maner or proportion by situation of measures giueth more efficacie
to the matter oftentimes then the concords them selues, and both
proportions concurring together as they needes must, it is of much more
beautie and force to the hearers mind.

To finish the learning of this diuision, I will set you downe one example
of a dittie written extempore with this deuice, shewing not onley much
promptnesse of wit in the maker, but also great arte and a notable
memorie. Make me saith this writer to one of the comnpanie, so many
strokes or lines with your pen as ye would haue your song containe verses:
and let euery line bearue his seuerall length, euen as ye would haue your
verse of measure. Suppose of foure, fiue, sixe, or eight or more
sillables, and set a figure of euerie number at th'end of the line,
whereby ye may knowe his measure. Then where you will haue your rime or
concord to fall, marke it with a compast stroke or semicircle passing ouer
those lines, be they farre or neare in distance, as ye haue seene before
described. And bycause ye shall not thinke the maker hath premeditated
beforehand any such fashioned ditty, do ye your selfe make one verse
whether it be of perfect or imperfect sense, and giue it him for a theame
to make all the rest upon: if ye shall perceiue the maker do keepe the
measures and rime as ye haue appointed him, and besides do make his dittie
sensible and ensuant to the first verse in good reason, then may ye say he
is his crafts maister. For if he were not of a plentiful discourse, he
could not vpon the sudden shape an entire dittie vpon your imperfect
theame or proposition in one verse. And if he were not copious in his
language, he could not haue such store of wordes at commaundement, as
should supply your concords. And if he were not of a maruelous good memory
he could not obserue the rime and measures after the distances of your
limitation, keeping with all grauitie and good sense in the whole dittie.




  _CHAP. XI._

_Of Proportion in figure._


Your last proportion is that of figure, so called for that it yelds an
ocular representation, your meeters being by good symmetrie reduced into
certaine Geometricall figures, whereby the maker is restrained to keepe
him within his bounds, and sheweth not onley more art, but serueth also
much better for briefenesse and subtiltie of deuice. And for the same
respect are also fittest for the pretie amourets in Court to entertaine
their seruants and the time withall, their delicate wits requiring some
commendable exercise to keepe them from idlenesse. I find not of this
proportion, vsed by any of the Greeke or Latine Poets, or in any vulgar
writer, sauing of that one forme which they cal _Anacreens egge._ But
being in Italie conuersant with a certaine gentleman, who had long
trauailed the Orientall parts of the world, and seene the Courts of the
great Princes of China and Tartarie. I being very inquisitiue to know of
the subtillities of those countreyes, and especially in matter of learning
and of their vulgar Poesie, he told me that they are in all their
inuentions most wittie, and haue the vse of Poesie or riming, but do not
delight so much as we do in long tedious descriptions, and therefore when
they will vtter any pretie conceit, they reduce it into metricall feet,
and put it in forme of a _Lozange_ or square, or such other figure, and so
engrauen in gold, siluer, or iuorie, and sometimes with letters of
ametist, rubie, emeralde or topas curiousely cemented and peeced together,
they sende them in chaines, bracelets, collars and girdles to their
mistresses to weare for a remembrance. Some fewe measures composed in this
sort this gentleman gaue me, which I translated word for word and as neere
as I could followed both the phrase and the figure, which is somewhat hard
to performe, because of the restraint of the figure from which ye may not
digresse. At the beginning they wil seeme nothing pleasant to an English
eare, but time and vsage will make them acceptable inough, as it doth in
all other new guises, be it for wearing of apparell or otherwise. The
formes of your Geometricall figures be hereunder represented.

[Illustration: labelled diagrams of lines of different lengths (forming
different shapes):
The Lozange, called Rombus (diamond)
The Fuzie or spindle, called Romboides (narrow diamond)
The Triangle or Tricquet (pyramid)
The Square or quadrangle (square)
The Pillaster or Cillinder (tall rectangle)
The Spire or taper, called piramis (tall pyramid)
The Rondel or Sphere (circle)
The egge or figure ouall (vertical egg)
The Tricquet reuerst (triangle)
The Tricquet displayed (hour-glass)
The Taper reuersed (narrow triangle)
The Rondel displayed (half circle upon the other half)
The Lozange reuersed (wide diamond <>)              u
The Egge displayed (half oval upon the other half - n)
The Lozange rabbated (hexagon).]

_Of the Lozange._

The _Lozange_ is a most beautifull figure, & fit for this purpose, being
in his kind a quadrangle reuerst, with his point vpward like to a quarrell
of glasse the Greekes and Latines  both call it _Rombus_ which may be the
cause as I suppose why they also gaue that name to the fish commonly
called the _Turbot_, who beareth iustly that figure, it ought not to
containe about thirteene or fifteene or one & twentie meetres, & the
longest furnisheth the middle angle, the rest passe vpward and downward,
still abating their lengthes by one or two sillables till they come to the
point: the Fuzie is of the same nature but that he is sharper and
slenderer. I will giue you an example of two of those which my Italian
friend bestowed vpon me, which as neare as I could I trnslated into the
same figure obseruing the phrase of the Orientall speach word for word.

A great Emperor in Tartary whom they cal _Can_, for his good fortune
in the wars & many notable conquests he had made, was surnamed
_Temir Cutzclewe_, this man loued the Lady _Kermesine_, who
presented him returning from the conquest of _Corasoon_ (a great kindgom
adioyning) with this _Lozange_ made in letters of rubies & diamants
entermingled thus:
                     Sound
                   O   Harpe
                 Shril lie  out
               Temir  the   stout
             Rider  who with  sharpe
         Trenching slide of brite steele
       Hath made his feircest foes so feele
     All such as  wrought him shame  or harme
      The strength of his braue right arme,
        Cleauing hard downe vnto the eyes
         The raw skulles of his enemies
           Much honour hath he  wonne
             By doughtie deedes done
                In    Cora   soon
                  And  all  the
                      Worlde
                      Round.

_To which_ Can Temir _answered in_ Fuzie, _with letters of Emeralds and
Ametists artificially cut and entermingled, thus

                      Five
                  Sore batailes
                Manfully    fought
              In   blouddy    fielde
            With  bright blade in hand
          Hath Temir won & forst to yeld
        Many a Captaine strong  and stoute
       And  many a king his Crowne to vayle,
      Conquering  large  countreys  and  land,
     Yet   ne uer     wanne     I    vic to rie
    I   speake   it   to   my   greate    glorie
     So   deare   and   ioy  full   vn  to  me,
      As when  I  did  first  con quere  thee
       O  Kerme sine,  of  all    myne  foes
        The most cruell, of all  myne  woes
         The   smartest ,   the   sweetest
           My    proude     con    quest
             My      ri  chest    pray
               O   once    a    daye
                Lend  me thy  sight
                 Whose only light
                    Keepes  me
                      Alive.

_Of the Triange or Triquet._

The triangle is an halfe square, _Lozange_ or _Fuzie_ parted vpon the
crosse angles: and so his base being brode and his top narrow it receaueth
meetres of many sizes one shorter then another: and ye may vse this figure
standing or reuersed, as thus.

A certaine great Sultan of Persia called _Ribuska_, entertaynes in loue
the Lady _Selamour_, sent her this triquet reuest pitiously bemoaning his
estate, all set in merquetry with letters of blew Saphire and Topas
artificially cut and entermingled.

    Selamour   dearer  then   his   owne life
     To  thy  di stresssed   wretch cap tive,
      Ri   buska   whome    late ly    erst
       Most   cru   el   ly   thou   perst
        With    thy     dead   ly   dart,
         That     paire   of    starres
          Shi    ning     a      farre
           Turne   from   me,   to me
            That I may & may not see
             The smile,   the loure
              That lead  and driue
               Me to die  to liue
                Twise yea thrise
                   In     one
                     hourre.

To which _Selamour_ to make the match egall, and the figure entire,
answered in a standing Triquet richly engrauen with letters of like
stuffe.
                     Power
                    Of death
                  Nor  of  life
                Hath    Selamour,
              With Gods it is  rife
            To giue and bereue breath
          I may  for  pitie  perchaunce
        Thy  lost   libertie   re - store,
      Vpon   thine  othe   with  this penaunce,
   That while thou liuest thou neuer loue no more.

This condition seeming to Sultan _Ribuska_ very hard to performe, and
cruell to be enjoyned him, doeth by another figure a Taper, signifying
hope, answere the Lady _Selamour_, which dittie for lack of time I
translated not.

_Of the Spire or Taper called Pyramis._

The Taper is the longest and sharpest triangle that is, & while
he mounts vpward he waxeth continually more slender, taking
both his figure and name of the fire, whole flame if ye marke it, is
alwaies pointed, and naturally by his forme couets to clymbe: the
Greekes call him Pyramis. The Latines in vse of Architecture
call him _Obeliscus_, it holdeth the altitude of six ordinary triangles,
and in metrifying his base can not well be larger then a
meetre of six, therefore in his altitude he will require diuers rabates
to hold so many sizes of meetres as shall serue for his composition,
for neare the toppe there wil be roome little inough for a meetre of
two sillables, and sometimes of one to finish the point. I haue set
you downe one or two examples to try how ye can disgest the
maner of the deuise.

  _Her Maiestie, for many parts in her most noble and vertuous nature
  to be found, resembled to the spire. Ye must begin beneath according
  to the nature of the deuice_.

          _Skie,                  1
          -----
         A  zurd                  2
         in  the
         assurde.
         --------
        And  better,              3
        And  richer,
        Much greter,
       --------------
      Crowne   &    empir
      After   an     hier
      For   to     aspire         4
      Like flames of fire
      In  formes of spire
     -------------------
     To   mount  on   hie,
     Con  ti   nu   al  ly
     With  trauel  &  teen
     Most  gratious  queen
     Ye haue  made  a  vow        5
     Shewes vs plainly how
     Not fained  but  true
     To  euery  mans   vue
     Shining cleere in you
     Of so bright  an hewe
     Euen   thus    vertwe
     ---------------------
   Vanish  out  of  our sight
   Till his fine top be quite
   To   taper  in  the   ayre     6
   Endeavors  soft  and faire
   By   his   kindly   nature
   Of   tall  comely  stature
   Like  as this faire figure_

  _From God the fountaine of all good, are deriued into the world
  all good things: and vpon her maiestie all the good fortunes any
  worldly creature can be furnisht with. Reade downward according
  to the nature of the deuice.

    1               God
                    On
                    Hie
                    Frome
    2             A bove
                  Sends loue,
                  Wise  dome,
                  Iu   stice
                  Cou   rage,
                  Boun   tie,
    3           And doth geue
                All that liue
                Life & breath
                Harts ese helth
                Children, welth
                Beauty strength
                Restfull    age,
                And   at length
                A   mild  death,
    4         He   doeth    bestowe
              All   mens   fortunes
              Both   high   &   low
              And  the  best things
              That earth  can  haue
              Or   mankind    craue,
              Good queens  &  kings
              Fi nally  is the same
              Who gaue you  (madam)
              Seyson of this Crowne
              With pouer soueraigne
    5       Impug    nable     right,
            Redoubt able       might,
            Most   prosperous  raigne
            Eternall     re    nowne,
            And that your chiefest is
            Sure hope of heavens blis.

_The Piller, Pillaster or Cillinder._

The Piller is a figure among all the rest of the Geometricall most
beawtifull, in respect that he is tall and vpright and of one bignesse
from the bottom to the toppe. In Architecture he is considered with two
accessarie parts, a pedestall or base, and a chapter or head, the body is
the shaft. By this figure is signified stay, support, rest, state and
magnificence, your dittie then being reduced into the forme of a Piller,
his base will require to beare the breath of a meetre of six or seuen or
eight sillables: the shaft of foure: the chapter egall with the base, of
this proportion I will giue you one or two examples which may suffise.

  _Her Maiestie resembled to the crowned piller, Ye must read vpward._

 _Is   blisse  with  immortalitie.
   Her trymest top of all ye see,
      Garnish  the crowne.
      Her   iust   renowne
      Chapter  and   head,
      Parts  that maintain
      And    woman    head
      Her  mayden   raigne
      In   te   gri   tie:
      In    ho nour    and
      with    ve  ri  tie:
      Her  roundnes  stand
      Strengthen the state.
      By  their   increase
      With   out   de bate
      Concord   and  peace
      Of  her   sup  port,
      They  be   the  base
      with   stedfastnesse
      Vertue   and   grace
      Stay   and   comfort
      Of  Albi ons   rest,
      The   sounde  Pillar
      And  seene   a farre
      Is plainely  exprest
    Tall stately and strayt
   By this no ble pour trayt_

  _Philo to the Lady Calia, sendeth this Odolet of her prayse
  in forme of a Piller, which ye must read downward._

  _Thy princely port and Maijestie
     Is  my ter  rene   dei tie,
        Thy  wit   and  sense
        The  streame & source
        Of     e  l o  quence
        And  deepe   discours,
        Thy  faire  eyes  are
        My bright load starre,
        Thy  speach  a  darte
        Percing   my    harte,
        Thy    face     a las,
        My   loo king  glasse,
        Thy  loue ly   lookes
        My   prayer    bookes,
        Thy  pleasant  cheare
        My   sunshine  cleare
        Thy   ru full   sight
        My  darke    midnight,
        Thy  will  the  stent
        Of     my    con tent,
        Thy  glo rye    flour
        Of    myne   ho  nour,
        Thy  loue  doth  giue
        The   lyfe   I   lyve,
        Thy    lyfe  it    is
        Mine  earthly  blisse:
   But grace & fauour in thine eies
   My bodies soule & souls paradise._

_The Roundell or Spheare_.

The most excellent of all the figures Geometrical is the round for his
many perfections. First because he is euen & smooth, without any angle, or
interruption, most voluble and apt to turne, and to continue motion, which
is the author of life: he conteyneth in him the commodious description of
euery other figure, & for his ample capacitie doth resemble the world or
uniuers, & for his indefiniteness hauing no speciall place of beginning
nor end, beareth a similitude with God and eternitie. This figure hath
three principall partes in his nature and vse much considerable: the
circle, the beame, and the center. The circle is his largest compasse or
circumference: the center is his middle and indiuisible point: the beame
is a line stretching directly from the circle to the center, &
contrariwise from the center to the circle. By this description our maker
may fashion his meetre in Roundel, either with the circumference, and that
is circlewise, or from the circumference, that is, like a beame, or by the
circumference, and that is ouerthwart and dyametrally from one side of the
circle to the other.

_A generall resemblance of the Roundell to God, the world and the Queene._

  _All and whole, and euer, and one,
  Single, simple, eche where, alone,
  These be counted as Clerkes can tell,
  True properties, of the Roundell.
  His still turning by consequence
  And change, doe breede both life and sense.
  Time, measure of stirre and rest.
  Is also by his course exprest.
  How swift the circle stirre aboue,
  His center point, doeth neuer moue:
  All things that euer were or be,
  Are closde in his concauitie.
  And though he be, still turnde and tost,
  No roome there wants nor none is lost.
  The Roundell hath no bonch or angle,
  Which may his course stay or entangle.
  The furthest part of all his spheare,
  Is equally both farre and neare.
  So doth none other figure fare
  Where natures chattels closed are:
  And beyond his wide compasse,
  There is no body nor no place,
  Nor any wit that comprehends,
  Where it begins, or where it ends:
  And therefore all men doe agree,
  That it purports eternitie.
  God aboue the heauens so hie
  Is this Roundell, in world the skie,
  Vpon earth she, who beares the bell
  Of maydes and Queenes, is this Roundell:
  All and whole and euer alone,
  Single, sans peere, simple, and one._

A speciall and particular resemblance of her Maiestie to the Roundell.

  _First her authoritie regall
  Is the circle compassing all:
  The dominion great and large
  Which God hath geuen to her charge:
  Whithin which most spatious bound
  She enuirons her people round,
  Retaining them by oth and liegeance.
  Whithin the pale of true obeysance:
  Holding imparked as it were,
  Her people like to heards of deere.
  Sitting among them in the middes
  Where foe allowes and bannes and bids
  In what fashion she list and when,
  The seruices of all her men.
  Out of her breast as from an eye,
  Issue the rayes incessantly
  Of her iustice, bountie and might
  Spreading abroad their beams so bright
  And reflect not, till they attaine
  The fardest part of her domaine.
  And makes eche subiect clearley see,
  What he is bounden for to be
  To God his Prince and common wealth,
  His neighbour, kinred and to himselfe.
  The same centre and middle pricke,
  Whereto our deedes are drest so thicke,
  From all the parts and outmost side
  Of her Monarchie large and wide,
  Also fro whence reflect these rayes,
  Twentie hundred maner of wayes
  Where her will is them to conuey
  Within the circle of her suruey.
  So is the Queene of Briton ground,
  Beame, circle, center of all my round._

_ Of the square or quadrangle equilater._

The square is of all other accompted the figure of most folliditie and
stedfastnesse, and for his owne stay and firmitie requireth none other
base then himselfe, and therefore as the roundell or Spheare is appropriat
to the heauens, the Spire to the element of the fire: the Triangle to the
ayre, and the Lozange to the water: so is the square for his inconcussable
steadinesse likened to the earth, which perchaunce might be the reason
that the Prince of Philosophers in his first booke of the _Ethicks_,
termeth a constant minded man, euen egal and direct on all sides, and not
easily ouerthrowne by euery little aduersitie, _hominem quadratum_, a
square man. Into this figure may ye reduce your ditties by vsing no moe
verses then your verse is of sillables, which will make him fall out
square, if ye go aboue it wil grow into the figure _Trapezion_, which is
some portion longer then square. I neede not giue you any example, by
cause in good arte all your ditties, Odes & Epigrammes should keepe & not
exceede the nomber of twelue verses, and the longest verse to be of twelue
sillables & not aboue, but vnder that number as much as ye will.

_The figure Ouall._

This figure taketh his name of an egge, and also as it is thought his
first origine, and is as it were a bastard or imperfect rounde declining
toward a longitude, and yet keeping within one line for his periferie or
compasse as the rounde, and it seemeth that he receiueth this forme not as
an imperfection but any impediment vnnaturally hindring his rotunditie,
but by the wisedome and prouidence of nature for the commoditie of
generation in such of her creatures as bring not forth a liuely body (as
do foure footed beasts) but in stead thereof a certaine quantitie of
shapelesse matter contained in a vessell, which after it is sequestred
from the dames body receiueth life and perfection, as in the egges of
birdes, fishes, and serpents: for the matter being of some quantitie, and
to issue out at a narrow place, for the easie passage thereof, it must of
necessitie beare such shape as might not be sharpe and greeuous to passe
at an angle, nor so large or obtuse as might not essay some issue out with
one part moe then other as the rounde, therefore it must be slenderer in
some part, & yet not without a rotunditie & smoothnesse to giue the rest
an easie deliuerie. Such is the figure Ouall whom for his antiquitie,
dignitie and vse, I place among the rest of the figures to embellish our
proportions: of this sort are diuers of _Anacreons_ ditties, and those
other of the Grecian Liricks, who wrate wanton amorous deuises, to solace
their witts with all, and many times they would (to giue it right shape of
an egg) deuide a word in the midst, and peece out the next verse with the
other halfe, as ye may see by perusing their meetres.

When I wrate of these deuices, I smiled with myselfe, thinking that the
readers would do so to, and many of them say, that such trifles as these
might well haue bene spared, considering the world is full inough of them,
and that it is pitie mens heades should be fedde with such vanities as are
to none edification nor instruction, either of morall vertue, or otherwise
behooffull for the common wealth, to whose seruice (say they) we are all
borne, and not to fill and replenish a whole world full of idle toyes. To
which sort of reprehendours, being either all holy and mortified to the
world, and therefore esteeming nothing that fauoureth not of Theologie, or
altogether graue and worldy, and therefore caring for nothing but matters
of pollicie, & discourses of estate, or all giuen to thrift and passing
for none art that is not gainefull and lucratiue, as the sciences of the
Law, Phisicke and marchaundise: to these I will giue none other aunswere
then referre them to the many trifling poemes of _Homer, Ouid, Virgill,
Catullus_ and other notable writers of former ages, which were not of any
grauitie or seriousnesse, and many of them full of impudicitie and
ribaudrie, as are not these of ours, nor for any good in the world should
haue bene: and yet those trifles are come from many former siecles vnto
our times, vncontrolled or condemned or supprest by any Pope or Patriarch
or other seuere censor of the ciuill maners of men, but haue bene in all
ages permitted as the conuenient solaces and recreations of mans wit. And
as I can not denie but these conceits of mine be trifles: no lesse in very
deede be all the most serious studies of man, if we shall measure grauitie
and lightnesse by the wise mans ballance who after he had considered of
all the profoundest artes and studies among men, in th'ende cryed out with
this Epyphoneme, _Vanitas vanitatum & omnia vanitas_. Whose authoritie if
it were not sufficient to make me beleeue so, I could be content with
_Democritus_ rather to condemne the vanities of our life by derision, then
as _Heraclitus_ with teares, saying with that merrie Greeke thus,
  _Omnia sunt risus, sunt puluis, & omnia nil sunt.
  Res hominum cunctae, nam ratione carent._
Thus Englished,
  _All is but a iest, all daft, all not worth two peason:
  For why in mans matters is neither rime nor reason._

Now passing from these courtly trifles, let vs talke of our scholastical
toyes, that is of the Grammaticall versifying of the Greeks and Latines
and see whether it might be reduced into our English arte or no.




  _CHAP. XII._

_How if all maner of sodaine innouatians were not very scandalous,
specially in the lawes of any langage or arte, the use of the Greeke and
Latine feete might be brought into our vulgar Poesie, and with good grace
enough._


Now neuerthelesse albeit we haue before alledged that our vulgar _Saxon
English_ standing most vpon wordes _monosillable_, and little vpon
_polysillables_ doth hardly admit the vse of those fine inuented feete of
the Greeks & Latines, and that for the most part wise and graue men doe
naturally mislike with all sodaine innouations specially of lawes (and
this the law of our auncient English Poesie) and therefore lately before
we imputed it to a nice & scholasticall curiositie in such makers as haue
fought to bring into our vulgar Poesie some of the auncient feete, to wit
the _Dactile_ into verses _exameters_, as he that translated certaine
bookes of _Virgils Eneydos_ in such measures & not vncommendably: if I
should now say otherwise it would make me seeme contradictorie to my
selfe, yet for the information of our yong makers, and pleasure of all
others who be delighted in noueltie, and to th'intent we may not seeme by
ignorance or ouersight to omit any point of subtillitie, materiall or
necessarie to our vulgar arte, we will in this present chapter & by our
own idle obseruations shew how one may easily and commodiously lead all
those feete of the auncients into our vulgar language. And if mens eares
were not perchaunce to daintie, or their iudgementes ouer partiall, would
peraduenture nothing at all misbecome our arte, but make in our meetres a
more pleasant numerositie then now is. Thus farre therefore we will
aduenture and not beyond, to th'intent to shew some singularitie in our
arte that euery man hath not heretofore obserued, and (her maiesty good
liking always had) whether we make the common readers to laugh or to
lowre, all is a matter, since our intent is not so exactlie to prosecute
the purpose, nor so earnestly, as to thinke it should by authority of our
owne iudgement be generally applauded at to the discredit of our
forefathers maner of vulgar Poesie, or to the alteration or peraduenture
totall destruction of the same, which could not stand with any good
discretion or curtesie in vs to attempt, but thus much I say, that by some
leasurable trauell it were no hard matter to induce all their auncient
feete into vse with vs, and that it should proue very agreable to the eare
and well according with our ordinary times and pronunciation, which no man
could then iustly mislike, and that is to allow euery world _polisillable_
one long time of necessitie, which should be where his sharpe accent falls
in our owne _ydiome_ most aptly and naturally, wherein we would not follow
the license of the Greeks and Latines, who made not their sharpe accent
any necessary prolongation of their tunes, but vsed such sillable
sometimes long sometimes short at their pleasure. The other sillables of
any word where the sharpe accent fell not, to be accompted of such time
and quantitie as his _ortographie_ would best beare hauing regard to
himselfe, or to his next neighbour word, bounding him on either side,
namely to the smoothnes & hardnesse of the sillable in his vtterance,
which is occasioned altogether by his _ortographie_ & situation as in this
word [_dáyly_] the first sillable for his vsuall and sharpe accentes sake
to be always long, the second for his flat accents sake to be alwayes
shoft, and the rather for his _ortographie_, bycause if he goe before
another word commencing with a vowell not letting him to be eclipsed, his
vtterance is easie & currant, in this trissilable [_dau-nge`ro`us_] the
first to be long, th'other two short for the same causes. In this word
[_da-nge`rou`sne-sse_] the first & last to be both long, bycause they
receiue both of them the sharpe accent, and the two middlemost to be
short, i

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