The complete poems of Sir John Davies

\ STUDIA >N /

This book belongs to

THE LIBRARY

of
VICTORIA UNIVERSITY

Toronto 5, Canada

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flEnfflt'0!)
SIR JOHN DAVIES.

PRINTED BY ROBERT ROBERTS,
BOSTON.

OBnglisft

THE

COMPLETE POEMS

OF

SIR JOHN DAVIES.

EDITED,

WITH

i0tt anto

BY THE

REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

VOLUMES.— VOL. I.

HonUon:

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY.
1876.

PR

BE

DI9
I

V

1 5442

To
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE W. EWART

GLADSTONE, M.P., &c, &c.
SIR,

I had the honour to place in your hands the
complete Poems of SIR JOHN DAVIES in the Fuller
Worthies' Library. In now publishing these Poems for
a wider circle of readers and students. I

ERRATA.

A very few ' slips ' have met my eyes on a final reading. They
are — as says an ancient Divine — " as easily corrected as espied."
Nevertheless they are here recorded that the Reader of his charity
may put them right, and any others that may have escaped Editor
and Printer. In Nosce Teipsum, the heading and head-line (Vol. I., pp.
25, 26 onward) has 'Immortalitie' misprinted ' Immortalite' — a com-
mon contemporary spelling — but it is ' tie * in the title-page (p. 5) :
il. p. 80, 1. 15, read * be best.' In Hymnes to Astrcea, il. p. 147, 1. 3,
remove period (.) after *rayes.r In Orchestra, il. p. 181, st.
53, 1. 7, read ' perfect-cunning ' : p. 185, foot-note 7, put G. at end :
p. 192, st. 81, 1. 7, ' Ply' =entwine (omitted) : p. 194, foot-note 7,
it is ' coach,' not ' couch ' : p. 202, 1. 10, ' shoe ' was the contempo-
rary spelling : p. 204, st. 113, 1. 6, insert ' it' before ' shine.' — G.

I am, Sir,
With high regard and gratitude,

Yours faithfully and. truly,
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

PR

£E
DI9

ie>

V.I

To

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE W. EWART
GLADSTONE, M.P., &<x, &c,

SIR,

I had the honour to place in your hands the

complete Poems of SIR JOHN DAVIES in the Fuller
Worthies' Library. In now publishing these Poems for
a wider circle of readers and students, I re-dedicate
them to you.

That I should have wished (and wish) to inscribe the
Works of a man famous as a prescient and practical
Statesman, as a philosophic Thinker, as an Orator, as
a Lawyer, and as a Poet, to you, is extremely natural ;
for in you, Sir, — in common with all Great Britain and
Europe, and America, — I recognize his equal, and
England's foremost living name, in nearly every depart-
ment wherein the elder distinguished himself; while
transfiguring and ennobling all, is your conscience-ruled
and stainless Christian life. That you gave me per-
mission so to do, with appreciative and kindly words,
adds to my pleasure. Trusting that my fresh * labour
of love ' (for which ' love of labour ' has been necessary)
on this Worthy may meet your continued approval,

I am, Sir,
With high regard and gratitude,

Yours faithfully and truly,
ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
i a

Preface.

TV/TY edition of the Complete Poems of Sir John
Davies in the Fuller Worthies' Library in 1869 ;
since being followed up with a similarly complete col-
lection of his much more extensive Prose, as Volumes
II. and III. of his entire Works — met with so instant a
Welcome, that very speedily I had to return the answer
of ' out of print ' to numerous applicants. Accordingly
it was with no common satisfaction I agreed to the
request of the Publishers that Sir John Davies' complete
Poems should succeed Giles Fletcher's in their Early
English Poets.

In the preparation of this new edition I have care-
fully re-collated the whole of the original and early
editions, with the same advantage and for the same
reasons, as in Giles Fletcher's. I have likewise been
enabled to make some interesting additions, as will
appear in the respective places.

I wish very cordially to re-thank various friends for
their continued helpfulness. Several I must specify: To
Dr. Brinsley Nicholson I am indebted for many sugges-
tions, and spontaneous research towards elucidating the

PREFACE.

Poems. I would specially thank B. H. Beedham, Esq.,
Ashfield House, Kimbolton, for not only making a tran-
script of the holograph copy of the " Twelve Wonders "
in Downing College Library, Cambridge, and of the
Lines to the King in All Souls' College, Oxford — both
Colleges readily allowing this — but for his old-fashioned
enthusiasm and carefulness of scrutiny of every available
source, far and near. Biographical results will be utilized
more fully elsewhere, viz. in the Memorial-Introduction
to be prefixed to the Prose in the complete Works ; but
meantime and here I cannot sufficiently acknowledge
Mr. Beedham's kindness or my obligation to him. To
Colonel Chester, of Bermondsey, for ready and most
useful help in family-Wills, &c., I am as often deeply
obliged. His Grace the Duke of Northumberland,
was good enough to allow me the leisurely use of his
MS. of " Nosce Teipsum " at Alnwick Castle. Dr.
David Laing, of Edinburgh, again entrusted me his
Davies MSS. (See Note, Vol. II., p. 119.)

The Poetry of Sir John Davies, weighty and imperish-
able though it be, bears so small a proportion to his entire
works and activities in many departments, that it would
be out of keeping to give a lengthened Life herein.
Still, in the present Memorial-Introduction will be
found very much more of accurate detail than hitherto,

PREFACE. .v.

and corrections of long-transmitted and accepted mis-
takes.

The discovery of extremely important MSS. — includ-
ing State-Papers, and official and private Letters — in
ILM. Public Record Office, the Bodleian, Oxford, the
British Museum, etc., delays my completion of the Prose
Works and the full Life ; but within this year it is my
hope and expectation to issue the whole to my con-
stituents of the Fuller Worthies' Library. En passant
— for the sake of others it may be stated that the com-
plete Works (Verse and Prose : 3 vols.) will be readily
accessible in all the leading public Libraries of the
Kingdom, and of the United States.

I send forth this new edition of a great Poet assured
that he has not yet gathered half his destined renown : —

" Ah ! weak and foolish men are they
Who lightly deem of Poet's lay,
That turns e'en winter months to May,
And makes the whole year warm :
'Tis this that brings back Paradise,
Reveals its bowers by Art's device,
Instructs the fool, delights the wise,
And gives to Life its charm.

(STEPHEN JENNER.)

ALEXANDER B. GROSART.
St. George's Vestry,

Blackburn, Lancashire.

Contents.

Those marked with [*] are herein printed for the first time, or
published for the first time among Davies' Poems.

PAGE

DEDICATION. i

PREFACE . . Hi

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION — i. BIOGRAPHICAL . . xi
„ „ ii. CRITICAL . . . Ivii

„ „ in. POSTSCRIPT. . , cvi

NOSCE TEIPSUM. . . 1-118

NOTE .3

ROYAL DEDICATION 9

*DEDICATION OF A GIFT-COPY (IN MS.) IN THE POS-
SESSION OF His GRACE THE DUKE OF NORTHUM-
BERLAND, AT ALNWICK CASTLE . . . .12

OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE 15

OF THE SOULE OF MAN AND THE IMMORTALITIE

THEREOF . 25

What the soule is 29

That the soule is a thing subsisting by it selfe

without the body 29

That the soule is more then a perfection or reflec-
tion of the sense 35

That the Soule is more then the Temperature of

the Humors of the Body . . . -39

That the Soule is a Spirit 41

That it cannot be a Body . . . . .42
That the Soule is created immediately by God . 45
Erronious opinions of the Creation of Soules . 46
Objection : — That the Soule is Extraduce . . 47
The Answereto the Obiection . . . .49
Reasons drawne from Nature . . . -49
Reasons drawne from Diuinity . . . . 52

CONTENTS.

NOSCE TEIPSUM (continued)

Why the Soule is United to the Body . . .60
In what manner the Soule is united to the Body . 61
How the Soul doth exercise her Powers in the

Body 63

The Vegetatiue or quickening Power . . .63

The power of Sense 64

Sight . 65

Hearing *. . . . . .. . . 67

Taste 68

Smelling ........ 69

Feeling 70

The Imagination or Common Sense . . .70
The Fantasie . . . . . . . 71

The Sensitiue Memorie 72

The Passions of Sense 73

The Motion of Life ...... 74

The Locall Motion 74

The intellectuall Powers of the Soule . . .75

Th£ Wit or Understanding 75

Reason, Vnderstanding 76

Opinion, Judgement 76

The Power of Will 78

The Relations betwixt Wit and Will ... 78

The Intellectuall Memorie 79

An Acclamation 81

That the Soule is Immortal, and cannot Die . 82
Reason I — Drawne from the desire of Knowledge 83
Reason II — Drawn from the Motion of the Soule 85
The Soul compared to a Riuer . . 85
Reason III — From Contempt of Death in the

better Sort of Spirits . . .90
Reason IV — From the Feare of Death in the

Wicked Soules . . . .92
Reason V — From the generall Desire of Immor-

talitie 93

CONTENTS.

NOSCE TEIPSUM (continued)

Reason VI — From the very Doubt and Disputa-
tion of Immortalitie . . -95
That the Soule cannot be destroyed . . .96
Her Cause ceaseth not . . . . . .96

She hath no Contrary 96

Shee cannot Die for want of Food . . -97
Violence cannot destroy her . . . . .98

Time cannot destroy her 98

Objections against the Immortalitie of the Soule . 99

Objection I 100

Answere ........ 100

Objection II .104

Answere 105

Objection III 106

Answere 106

Objection IV 108

Answere 109

Objection V no

Answere no

The Generall Consent of All . . . . 1 1 1
Three Kinds of Life answerable to the three

Powers of the Soule 113

An Acclamation . . . . . . .114

APPENDIX — REMARKS PREFIXED TO NAHUM TATE'S
EDITION (1697) OF ' NOSCE TEIPSUM ' . . Il8

HYMNES TO ASTRAEA 125

NOTE 127

Of Astraea 129

To Astraea 130

To the Spring 131

To the Moneth of May 132

To the Larke 133

To the Nightingale 134

To the Rose 135

To all the Princes of Europe 136

x. CONTENTS.

PAGE

HYMNES TO ASTRAEA (continued)

To Flora 137

To the Moneth of September. .... 138
To the Sunne ....... 139

To her Picture 140

Of her Minde 141

Of the Sun-beames of her Mind .... 142

Of her Wit 143

Of her Will , . . 144

Of her Memorie 145

Of her Phantasie 146

Of the Organs of her Minde 147

Of the Passions of her Heart .... 148

Of the innumerable vertues of her minde . . 149
Of her Wisdome ....... 150

Of her Justice ....... 151

Of her Magnanimitie 152

Of her Moderation 153

To Enuy ........ 154

ORCHESTRA, OR A POEME OF DAUNCING . . .155

NOTE 157

DEDICATIONS. — i. To HIS VERY FRIEND, MA. RICH.

MARTIN . . • . . 159

ii. To THE PRINCE .... 160

ORCHESTRA, OR A POEME OF DAUNCING . . 161

Memorial-Introduction.

I. BIOGRAPHICAL.

A S in other instances, the first thing to be done in
any Life of our presentWorthy, is to distinguish
him from other two contemporary Sir John Davieses —
non-attention to which has in many biographical and
bibliographical works led to no little confusion. There
was

I. Sir John Davis (or Davys or Davies) of Pang-
bourne, Berkshire, who ' sleeps well' under a chalk-
stone monument in the parish church there. He was
mixed up with the ' Plots ' (alleged and semi-real), of
the Elizabethan-Essex period. Many of his Letters —
various very long and matterful and pathetic — are pre-
served at Hatfield among the Cecil-Salisbury MSS.
The Blue-Book report of the " Royal Commission on
Historical Manuscripts " (3rd, 1872), makes a strange
jumble of our Sir John and this Sir John's Letters (see
Index, s. n.). He was Master of the Ordnance 3ist
January, 1598, and was knighted at Dublin i2th July,
1599. His Will is dated 6th April, 1625, and it was

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

proved at London May, 1626. Our Sir John

was appointed one of his executors. Arms : Sable, a
griffin, segt, or. He is supposed to have been of Shrop-
shire descent.

II. Sir John Davies (or Davys or Davis) Knight-
Marshal of Connaught and Thomond : temp. Elizabeth.
He had large grants of lands in Roscommon. He is
now represented by the family of Clonshanville (or
Loyle) in Roscommon, who are of Shropshire descent
(see Archdall's Peerage of Ireland.) His Will is dated
1 4th February, 1625. He died i3th April, 1626. His
Will was not proved (at Dublin) until 1 7th November,
1628. Arms : Sable, on a chevron, argent, three tre-
foils slipped, vert. : crest ; a dragon's head erased, vert.

According to Mr. J. Payne Collier, the following
entry is found in the register of S. Mary, Alderman-
bury : " Buried Sir John Davyes, Knight, May 28,
1624." (Bibliographical Account of Early English Lit-
erature, i., 193). If there be no mistake here, we have
another contemporary Sir John Davies. Certainly it
was not ours, and as certainly neither of the two pre-
ceding.1

1 Through B. H. Beedham, Esq., as before, I have many de-
tails on the two contemporary Sir John Davieses from Sir Bernard

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xiii.

The spelling of the family name, which is now
Davies, varies very much. I have found it as Dyve,
Dayves, Davyes, Dauis, Davis, and Davies. Usually
our Worthy signs ' Dauyes ;' but in his books changes,
e.g., in ' Nosce Teipsum' of 1599, to the verse-dedica-
tion to Elizabeth, it is ' Dairies; ' in 1602 ( Dauys,'and
in 1608 ' Davis,' and so diversely in his Prose.

Among the Carte Papers in the Bodleian are rough
jottings by the Historian for a Memoir of our Sir John
Davies, wherein it is stated that the family came origi-
nally from South Wales to Tisbury, Wiltshire. The
words are : " His family had continued several genera-
tions in y6 place, though descended from a family of
that name in South Wales : but planted heere in Eng-
land Temp. Hen. 7 : accompanying at that time ye Earle
of Pembrooke out of Wales.2

The * estate ' of the Davieses at Tisbury was named
Chicksgrove (sometimes spelled Chisgrove.) Only a
small fragment of the Manor-house remains " unto this

Burke Ulster King at Arms, &c., &c., and J. N. C. Atkinson
Davis, Esqr., Dublin ; and the same acknowledgment has to be
made on many points in the Life.

2 Carte Papers, folios 330-334 : Vol. XII. The particular MS.
is headed " Notes of the life of Sr John Dauys. May 2d. 1674."
These Notes are not very accurate. To begin with, the father's
name is mistakenly given as Edward instead of John.

xiv. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

day." The Tisbury parish registers, however, yield
abundant entries of the family-names under the wonted
three-fold ' Baptisms,' ' Marriages/ 'Burials;' and the
church itself, in tablets and communion plate, and
other memorials, possesses various evidences of their
influential position for many generations, and in many
lines of descent and local intermarriage. It must
suffice here briefly to summarize the Pedigree, and to
extract the entries immediately bearing on our present
Life.
Confirming the Carte statement of a Welsh descent,

one John Davys, of wyn, in Shropshire, temp.

Henry VIII., recorded by Carney (1606) in the Visita-
tion of Dublin in Ulster Office, and according to
Chalmers settled at Tisbury, temp. Edward VI., came
from Wales with the Earl of Pembroke, and was living
in 1517 and i54i.3 This John Davys married Matilda,

daughter of Bridemore, who was buried as

" Maud, Master Davys widow, 18 May, 1570." There
was a numerous family of sons and daughters from this
union.4 We have only now to do with their eighth,

3 In MS. F 4, 1 8, Trinity College, Dublin, the same origin is
given, but the place beyond ' wyn ' is illegible in both.

4 Hoare's Wilts, gives many names ; but his pedigrees are
rarely trustworthy ; as a rule, are exceedingly untrustworthy.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xv.

and youngest son, John, who was living in 1517 and
1 54 1.5 He was of l New Inn,' London ; and thus, like
his more famous son, was brought up to the study of
the Law. This will appear authoritatively onward ; but
at this point it is needful to correct and explain a
long-continued error, originated by ANTHONY a-WooD
("Athenae," by Dr. Bliss, Vol. ii., p. 400) apparently,
viz. that the father was " a wealthy tanner," and so Sir
John, of " low extraction," etc., etc. I do not know
that there should have been reason for shame had the
paternal Davies been a ' tanner/ wealthy or otherwise,
if otherwise he was that Christian gentleman which all
reports represent. But the matter-of-fact is that through
the premature deaths of his elder brothers, John
Davyes, of Chisgrove, seems to have inherited the
family possessions and wealth, and to have been in the
front rank of the country gentry. The explanation of
the mistake as to his having been a t tanner,' is un-
expectedly found in the Will of Thomas Bennett,
brother (as we shall see) of Sir John Davies' mother.
Among other things he leaves " a certain mess, or tent,
in West Hatch now (1591) in the use of Edward
Scannell, and all lands thereto belonging, [to] be held

6 The MSS. of note supra.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

by John Bennett my son, Thomas Rose and Nicholas
Graye as trustees to my own use for life, and after my
decease to the use and behoof" of various relatives, of
whom one is described as " Edward Davys of Tysse-
bury, tanner" This Edward Davys, tanner, was no
doubt of the Chisgrove family ; and hence the confu-
sion. In all probability he was one of the younger sons,
and so brother of our Sir John. When he came to
make his Will (now before me), though engaged in trade,
he asserts his gentility by styling himself ' gentleman.'
So much in correction of a second important bio-
graphical mistake.

John Davyes, of Chisgrove, was married to Mary,
daughter of John Bennett (alias Pitt) of Pitt House,
Wilts., (Visitation of Wilts., 1563) by Agnes his wife,

daughter of Toppe, of Fenny Sutton, in

Wilts. Hoare6 and others, give ample proof of the
almost lordly position of the Bennetts. Woolrych
observes (1869) "The Bennetts of Pyt, have been well
known in our own time. The struggles of Bennet and
Astley for the representation of the county are remem-

c Wilts., as before, on Davies, Vol. IV. part I., p. 136 ; on
Bennetts, Vol. III., part II., p. 107.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xvii.

bered as severe and costly."7 Thus if Davyes of Chis-
grove was of good blood in the county, he certainly
advanced himself when he wooed and won a daughter
of the house of Bennett (or Benett). They had at
least three sons. The first was Matthew, who became
D.D., Vicar of Writtle, Essex. Hoare (as before) calls
him second son, and states that he died unmarried.
Both are inaccuracies. The Tisbury Register shews
that he was the eldest not the second son ; and the
Will of our Sir John remembers his family.8 The
second son was (probably) the Edward who became a
" tanner." He was baptized at Tisbury 6th December,
1566. He too is named in our Sir John's Will. The
third was the subject of our Memorial-Introduction.
The following is his baptismal entry from (a) the paper
or scroll-copy, (b) the parchment or extended register
of Tisbury — literatim :

(a) Paper MS. : 1569 Aprill xvj. John the sonne of
John Dauy was crysten'd.

7 Lives of Eminent Serjeants, 2 vols., 8vo. (1869). By H.
William Woolrych, Sergeant-at-Law: Vol. I., p. 187. Consider-
able industry is shown in this work, but it literally swarms with
blunders,.

s In the fuller Life to be prefixed to the Prose Works, I hope to
furnish more details.

b

xviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

(b) Parchment MS. : Anno dni 1569 Aprill 16 John

the sonne of John Davis bapt.9

There were two sisters, Edith and Maria. Master John
was in his nth year only when he lost his father, who
died in 1580. The Carte MS. " Notes " (as before) tell
us : " his father dyed when hee was very young and left
him with his 2 brothers to his mother to bee educated. She
therefore brought them vpp all to learning." The same
" Notes " state " yl lohn off whom we now write, being
designed for a lawyer, neglected his learning, butt being
first a scholar in Winchester Colledge, was afterwards
removed to New Colledge in Oxford." According to
Chalmers (History of Oxford : I. p. 105) he became in
Michaelmas term 1585, a Commoner of Queen's Col-
lege, Oxford. From thence he removed in 1587 ^not
1588 as usually stated e.g. by Wood to George Chalmers
and Woolrych). The Admission Register of the Middle
Temple contains his entry, and it is interesting addition-
ally as establishing that his father was of the New Inn,
London, and so of the legal profession :

f. 193 D.

Tcio Diefebruarij A° 1587 :
Mr lohes Davius films tertius Johis Davis de Tisburie

9 In the same I intend to give account of these Registers, and
the many Davies entries, &c.

ME MORI A L- IN TROD UC TION.

xix.

in Com Wiltes gen de nov hospitio gen

admissus est in societate medij Templi et

obligate vna m * mr is Lewes et Raynolde et dat p fine

XXs.1

This * entry ' renders null all speculations as to
whether by ' New Inn ' were not intended l New Hall '
Oxford, &c. &c. j and it is a third correction of impor-
tant biographical errors hitherto.

It is to be regretted that other Records of New Inn
commence only with the year 1674. So that we are
without light on the residence in the Middle Temple.

In 1590 the saddest of all human losses came on the
young law-student by the death of his mother, who was
buried at Tisbury "xxvth of Marche, 1590." In this
year he is again at the University of Oxford • for in the
" Fasti " (by Bliss, Vol. ii., p. 250) he is entered under
1590 as taking the degree of Bachelor of Arts. I fear
that with the death of his lady-mother there ensued a
full plunge into the frivolities and gaities of the Univer-
sity and Inns of Court society. It was a ' fast ' period ;
and while his after-books prove conclusively that he
must have studied Law widely and laboriously, there

1 From the original books, as supra. See Pearce's Inns of
Court, p. 293, where it is stated that the elder Davies was a legal
practitioner in Wilts.

xx. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

can be little doubt that there were outbursts of youth-
ful extravagance and self-indulgence. None the less is
it equally certain — rather is in harmony therewith —
that very early he mingled with the poets and wits of
the day. There is not a tittle of evidence warranting
the ascription of " Sir Martin Mar People his Coller of
Esses Workmanly wrought by Maister Simon Soothsaier,
Goldsmith of London, and offered to sale upon great
necessity by John Davies. Imprinted at London by
Richard Ihones. 1590 (4to),"2 to him; nor can any one
really study " O Vtinam i For Queene Elizabeths
securitie, 2 For hir Subiects prosperitie, 3 For a gene-
ral conformitie, 4 And for Englands tranquilitie.
Printed at London, by R. Yardley and P. Short, for
lohn Pennie, dwelling in Pater noster row, at the Grey
hound. 1591 (i6mo),"3 and for a moment concede his
hastily alleged authorship. But in 1593 his poem of
" Orchestra, or a Poeme of Dauncing," was " licensed
to lohn Harison " the elder. No earlier edition than
that of 1596 has been proved; but the "license"
assures us that Harrison had negotiated for its publi-
cation in 1593. The title-page of the 1596 edition is
followed by a dedicatory sonnet " To his very friend,

2 There is a copy at Lambeth. 3 There is a copy in the Bodleian.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxi.

Ma. Rich. Martin." The Reader may turn to it "an'
it please " him (Vol. I. p. 159) : and " thereby hangs a
tale." The dedicatory sonnet, it will be seen, while
characterizing "Orchestra" as "this dauncing Poem,"
this " suddaine, rash, half-capreol of my wit," informs us
that his " very friend " Martin was the " first mouer and
sole cause of it, and that he was the Poet's " owne
selues better halfe," and " deerest friend." We have
the time employed on it too : —

" You know the modest Sunne full fifteene times
Blushing did rise, and blushing did descend,
While I in making of these ill made rimes,
My golden howers unthriftily did spend :

Yet, if in friendship you these numbers prayse,
I will mispend another fifteene dayes."

All this receives tragi-comical illumination from the
fact that this same " very friend " and " better halfe,"
and he who so sang of him, had soon a deadly quarrel
and estrangement. RICHARD MARTIN became Re-
corder of London, and one memorial of him is a
Speech to the King which, if it partakes of the oddi-
ties of Euphues, must also be allowed to contain
weighty and bravely-outspoken counsel : and thus he
has come down to posterity as a grave and potent
seignior. Moreover, he became Reader of his Society,

XX11.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

and M.R for first Barnstaple, and later for Cirencester.
He appears, too, as the associate of Ben Jonson, John
Selden, and others of the foremost.4

But as a youthful law-student he was 'wild.' He
fell under the lash of the Benchers, having been expelled
from the Middle Temple in February, 1591, for the
part he took in a riotat the prohibited festival of the
Lord of Misrule. /He was fast of tongue and ribald of
wit, with a dash if jJrTJvocative sarcasm. Evidently he
was one of those men who would rather .(a*-4ke-
<saymgrpH±sait-) lose his friend than his joke (however
poor the joke and rich the friend). A consideration of
the whole facts seems to show .that^igain leslored-fefrtke.
Middle Temple he had let loose his probably wine-
charged sarcasms at his friend Davies. Whether it
was so or not, he was ignobly punished. For against
all " good manners " not to speak of the " law " and
discipline of the Court, Master Davies came into the
Hall with his hat on, armed with a dagger, and atten-
ded by two persons with swords. Master Martin was

4 See Woolrych, as before, and the authorities therein given. At
the end of Thomas Coriate's " Traveller for the English Wits," W.
Jaggard, 1616 (410), is a list of his acquaintances, to whom he
desires " the commendations of my dutiful respects.'' Among them
occurs " Mr. Richard Martin, Counsellor."

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

seated at dinner at the Barristers' Table. Davies pulling
a bastinado or cudgel from under his gown, went up to
his insulter and struck him repeatedly over the head.
The chastisement must have been given with a will ; for
the bastinado was shivered to pieces — arguing either
its softness or the head's asinine thickness.^ Having
" avenged" himself, Davies returned to trie bottom of
the Hall, drew one of the swords belonging to his
attendants, and flourished it repeatedly over his head,
turning his face towards Martin, and then hurrying
down the water-steps of the Temple, threw himself into
a boat.5 This extraordinary occurrence happened at the
close of 1597 or January of 1598. In 1595 he had been
called to the bar; but in February 1598 Davies was expel-
led by a unanimous sentence; "disbarred" and deprived
for ever of all authority to speak or consult in law.6
These " outbreaks " and expulsions were familiar
incidents ; and make us exclaim with Othello : " O thou
invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be
known by, let us call thee devil " — " O God, that men
should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their

5 Lord Stowell wrote an elaborate Paper on the whole matter,
and the restoration of Davies. It appeared in " Archaeologia,"
Vol. XXI. I propose to write the narrative in extenso in my fuller
Life, as before. f> Lord Stowell, as before.

xxiv. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

brains ! that we should with joy, pleasure, revel and
applause, transform ourselves into beasts " (ii. 3). This
is the all-too-plain solution of these " high jinks." It
was a disaster of the most ominous kind. Nevertheless
the dark cloud that thus fell across the noon of the full-
and-hot-blooded young Barrister folded in it a " bright
light : " or — if we may fetch an illustration from Holy
Scripture, as Moses the great Lawgiver of ancient Israel
through the slaying of the Egyptian was compelled to
be a fugitive in the wilderness and therein to master his
native impulsiveness and passion, so was the "offender"
in the Hall of the Middle Temple through the disgrace
and penalties incurred forced into retirement and intro-
spection. It was a costly price to pay. But it is to be
doubted whether if the enforced return to Oxford and
the self-scrutiny and penitence that calm reflection
wrought there had not arrested him, he ever would have
given our literature " Nosce Teipsum." His great poem
bears witness to very poignant self-accusation and
humiliation. Towards the close you seem to catch the
echo of sobs and the glistening of tears; nor is it
"preaching" to recognize a diviner element still — his
unrest and burden alike laid on Him Who alone can
sustain and help a " wounded spirit " in its trouble.
Besides the hazardous as disastrous incident with

ME MORI A L- INTRO D UC TION.

XXV.

Martin, his " Epigrams " by their abandon and general
allusiveness reveal that he was the associate of the
" young gallants " of the city and lived " fast ; " and so
give significance and interpretation to his later pas-
sionate regrets, self-accusations and self-rebuke. How
abased and yet in touches how noble is this !

" O ignorant poor man ! what dost thou beare
Lockt vp within the casket of thy brest ?
What iewels and what riches hast thou there !
What heauenly treasure in so weake a chest !

Looke in thy soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the flood :
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted good.

Thinke of her worth, and think that God did meane,
This worthy mind should worthy things imbrace ;
Blast not her beauties with thy thoughts vnclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passions base :

Kill not her quickning powers with surfettings,
Mar not her sense with sensualitie ;
Cast not her serious wit on idle things :
Make not her free-will, slaue to vanitie.

And when thou think'st of her eternitie,

Thinke not that death against her nature is,
Thinke it a birth ; and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to blisse.

xxvi. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Take heed of over-weening, and compare

Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's traine ;
Study the best and highest things that are,
But of thyselfe an humble thought retaine." 7

" Expelled " and " disbarred," he retired to Oxford and
there " followed his studies, although he wore a cloak."
(Wood's Athena, as before, ii. 401). To lighten severer
studies he now leisurely composed that " Nosce Teip-
sum " from which has just been quoted the remarkable
close. His vein must have been a "flowing" one;
for it was published within a year of his disgrace, viz. in
1 5 99.8 It was dedicated to the "great Queen ; " without

7 Vol. I., pp. 115-116, " Nosce Teipsum."

8 See Vol. I., pp. 9-1 1. The date 1592, sometimes (modernly)
appended to the dedication of " Nosce Teipsum," has no authority,
and is in contradiction with all the known facts and circumstances.
Equally erroneous and misleading is the ultra-rhetorically given
chronology in " Court and Society from Elizabeth to Anne," (2
Vols., 8vo., 1864), which bears the name of the present Duke of
Manchester, as thus : — " This Templar .... who wrote a noble
work on the immortality of the soul in the very hey-day of his
young blood, who afterwards became famous for his gravity as a
judge, his wisdom as a politician, and his soundness as a states-
man, terminated his literary career as the author of a poem in
praise of dancing," (Vol. I., p. 289). This is precisely the reverse
of the fact. In his earlier hot-blooded days he threw off his gay
and self-named "light" verses. In an interval of penitent self-
inspection and worthier aspiration, he wrote "Nosce Teipsum," and

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxvii.

the all-too-common contemporary hyperbole of lauda-
tion, yet showing the strange magnetism of her influence
to win allegiance from the greatest, even in her old age : —

" Loadstone to hearts and loadstone to all eyes."

The Carte " Notes " (as before) thus tell the whole
story and ratify Anthony-a-Wood : — " Vpon a quarrell
between him and Mr. Martin before ye Judges, where
he strooke Mr. Martin hee was confined and made
a prisoner : after wch in discontentment he retired to
ye countrye, and writt y* excellent poeme of his Nosce
Teipsum, wch was so well aprooved of by the Lord
Mountioy after Lord Deputy of Ireland and Earle of
Devonshire, that by his aduise he publisht it and dedi-
cated it to Queen Elizabeth, to whom hee presented it,
being introduced by y6 aforesaide Lord his pattron, and
ye first essay of his pen was so well relisht yl y6 Queen
encouraged him in his studdys, promising him prefer-

he followed this up by ever-deepened grave, wise and weighty
(prose) books. It is a pity (perhaps) to spoil your brilliant bits of
antithetic scandal ; and more pity that they should be hazarded
for inevitable spoiling. Or put it in another way : it is too bad to
have your cook serving up the Roast Beef of Old England as if
it were strawberries (and cream). One need not use severer terms,
knowing the ducal editorship is a blind. Campbell in his " Speci-
mens," preceded in the blundering.

xxviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

merit, and had him sworn her servant in ordinary."
" Nosce Teipsum " was not his " first essay " so that
perchance the meaning is that its verse-dedication was
his " first essay " in addressing the Queen — his second
being the Hymns to Astrsea. The " Hymns to Astraea"
appeared in quick succession to " Nosce Teipsum " in
the same year 1599. They are dainty trifles ; but from all
we know of Elizabeth would be received as "sweet
incense." If they seem to us to-day flattering not to
say adulatory, it must be remembered that such was the
mode. Much later, Epistles-dedicatory from Bacon and
others of the mighties, and not to Elizabeth but to
James — are infinitely fulsome compared with the ideal
praises of an ideal Elizabeth — that Elizabeth who had
stirred the nation's pulses through her great patriotic
words when " The Armada" threatened — in the most
superlative of these " Hymnes." Their workmanship
is as of diamond-facets. The " bright light " of olden
promise was now " lining " the dark cloud. The dis-
cipline of his retirement to Oxford did him life-long
good. Speedily outward events dove-tailed with the
deepened ethical experience and resultant character.

For despair and disgrace there came hope and help.
For a career that seemed arrested, a higher, and wider,
and nobler opened out in inspiriting perspective. In

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

XXIX

1599-1600 he was in all men's mouths as a Poet. The
" Poetical Rhapsody " of Davison of these years would
have been rendered incomplete without contributions
from " I. D. ;" and so there went to it those Minor
Poems, that are read still with pleasure. So early as
1595 George Chapman had printed his "Ovid's Ban-
quet of Sence," with lines from " I. D." More impor-
tant still, " Secretary Cecil " became his friend and
patron. " By desire " he prepared certain dialogues
and scenes for entertainments to the Queen. Three of
these remain. The first is " A Dialogue between a
Gentleman Usher and a Poet."9 The second is " A
Contention betwixt a Wife, a Widdow, and a Maide."1
The third is " A Lottery : presented (as the heading
states) before the late Queene's Maiesty at the Lord
Chancelor/s House, i6oi."2 These indicate that the
recluse of Oxford was once more restored to society,
and that the supremest. The favour of the aged Queen
was capricious ; but the " Lottery that formed part of
the entertainment at the Lord Chancellor's marked the
turning of the tide, in flood not ebb. Through Elles-

(J In Memorial-Introduction to Poems, as before, pp. 15-21.

1 See Vol. II., pp. 72-86.

2 Ibid, pp. 87-95. See on this in second division of this Memo-
rial-introduction : Postscript.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

mere steps were taken to cancel the " expulsion " and
"disbarring." He addressed a respectful and manly
Petition to " his Society." It was considered at a
" Parliament of the Society, held on the 3oth October
1601." He had "presented" it in Trinity Term ; but
it was adjourned until now. In the interval he had
attended " the Commons " and in November after
making the admission and satisfaction required by four
Benches, it was unanimously agreed that he should be
" restored to his position at the bar and his seniority."
He publicly pronounced his " repentance " in due
form on the feast of All Saints. This was done in the
Hall in the presence of Chief lustice Popham, Chief
Baron Periam, Judge Fenner, Baron Savil, Sergeant
Harris, Sergeant Williams, and the Masters of the
Bench." The legal or ceremonial part being completed,
and the Apology read in English, Davies turned to
" Mr. Martin," then present, and as he could offer no
sufficient satisfaction to him, entreated his forgiveness,
promising sincere love and affection in all good offices
towards him for the future." " Mr. Martin" accepted
the tender thus made, and the re-instatement was com-
pleted.3 That the reconciliation between Davies and

3 See Lord Stowell's Paper, in Archaelogia, Vol. XXL, pp. 107-
112, and our fuller Life, as before.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. xxxi

Martin was formal rather than real has been too hastily
assumed. True, that when in 1622 Davies collected
his Poems, the Sonnet to Martin was withdrawn and a
hiatus left towards the close of " Orchestra." But
both these things are otherwise explainable. Both
Elizabeth and Martin were now dead — the latter in
1 6 1 8. Besides, it was only natural that the living friend
should be willing to remove all memory of the quarrel.
The name should only have revived it. This, and not
a many-yeared carrying of an unclosed wound is my
judgment in charity. The restored ' Barrister' never
forgot his indebtedness to the Lord Chancellor. His
dedication of his great " Reports " of Irish Law Cases
and their correspondence remain to attest this — remain
too to attest the reciprocal admiration, if a tenderer
word were not fitter, of Ellesmere.4 His words in the
' Reports ' dedication are more than respectful.

It would appear from the MS. dedication of a cor-
rected MS. of " Nosce Teipsum " to " the right noble,
valorous, and learned Prince Henry, Earle of Northum-
berland " that he must have joined in the intercession
for restoration, e.g.

"Then to what spirit shall I these noates commend,
But unto that which doth them best expresse;

4 See Prose Works, as before, Vol. II. With reference to the Lines
to the Lord Chancellor on the death of his " second wife " (Vol. I.

MEMORIAL-IN TROD UCTION.

Who will to them more kind protection lend,
Than Hee which did protect me in distresse."5

Contemporaneous with his full Restoration to his
privileges at the Bar, the student-lawyer — through in-
fluence that has not come down to us — found his way
into Parliament as M.P. for Corfe Castle. The House
1 sat ' for " barely two months " — October 27th to

pp. 112-3) it may be noted that he married (i) Elizabeth, d. of
Thomas Ravenscroft of Bretton, co. Flint, Esq., (2) Elizabeth, sister
of Sir George More of Loseley co. Surrey, Kt., and widow of Sir
John Wolley of Pirford, Surrey, Kt., and before him of Richard Pol-
sted, Esq., of Aldbury, co. Surrey. Her second husband Sir John
Wolley (sometimes spelled Wooley) died in February or March 1595-6
and was buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. She appears to have re-
married (viz. the Lord Chancellor) in the same year : so that she did
not live long thereafter ; for she died on 2Oth January 1599-1600 and
was buried with her second husband. The Lord Chancellor was in
profound grief (as the Lines of Davies confirm) ; but he got over it
sufficiently to marry (3) Alice, d. of Sir John Spencer of Althorpe co.
Northampton, Kt., and widow of Ferdinando, 5th Earl of Derby, on
2ist October of the same year (1599-1600) exactly nine months after
the death of his (lamented) second wife. She survived the Lord
Chancellor until 26th January 1636-7 and was buried at Harefield,
co. Middlesex. Of Ellesmere himself these data may be given : Sir
Thomas Egerton was created Lord Ellesmere 21 July 1603, upon his
appointment as Lord High Chancellor of England. He was further
created Viscount Brackley 7th Nov. 1616, and was about being
made Earl of Bridgewater when he died i5th March 1616-7. His
son John was so created 2jth May 1617.
* Vol. I., pp. 12-13.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxxiii.

December 2Qth " (1601). It was the last Parliament
of Elizabeth. The records of it are meagre and unsatis-
fying, but sufficient is preserved to inform us that untried
and inexperienced in Parliament as he was, the member
for Corfe Castle at once came to the front. A long-
continued warfare on the part of the Commons against
monopolies found in him a vehement defender of the
privileges of the House. The wary Queen, who always
knew when to give way, withdrew certain " patents "
that had been granted and led to grievous abuses ; and
Davies was appointed one of the " Grand Committee "
to thank her Majesty. He had spoken stoutly for pro-
cedure by " bill " and not by " petition." Richard
Martin supported the monopolies.

In 1602 a second edition "newly corrected and amen-
ded " of " Nosce Teipsum " appeared. Still prefixed to
it — and to his honour continued in the third edition of
1608 when she was gone — was the verse-dedication to
the Queen. But it was now "the beginning of the
end " with her. Somewhat cloudily and thundrously

6 The Carte " Notes," as before, make Davies go to the Scottish
Court on the birth of Prince Henry ; but this is an obvious mis-
take : and yet it is noticeable that among the hitherto unpublished
poems is one to the King, wherein contemporary allusion is made
to his Majesty's visit to Denmark for his Queen.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

was the great orb westering. She died on 24th March
1603. It argues that Davies had advanced in various
ways that he accompanied Lord Hunsdon to Scotland
when that nobleman went with the formal announce-
ment of James' accession to the throne. A pleasant
anecdote has survived that when " in the presence "
Lord Hunsdon announced John Davies, the King —
who if a fool was a learned one and capable of
discerning genius — straightway asked "whether he
were ' Nosce Teipsum ' " and on finding he was its
author, " embraced him and conceived a considerable
liking for him."7 That his position was regarded as a
potential one with the new King is incidentally con-
firmed by letters to him from no less than Bacon, who
addressing him in Scotland sought his good influences in
his behalf, using in one a sphinx-like expression of " con-
cealed poets " that it is a marvel Delia Bacon did not
lay hold of to buttress her egregious argument on the
Baconian authorship of Shakespeare's Plays.

Accompanying the King southward, Davies held his
own at the English court The royal ' liking ' grew :
and the royal brain — small no doubt yet alert and in a
sense animated with patriotic feeling — was in earnest
study of what has till to-day proved England's difficulty

7 Wood, as before, ii., p. 401.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. xxxv.

— Ireland. Mountjoy (later Earl of Devonshire and
husband of Sidney's "Stella"8) was sent as Lord-
Deputy, and Davies accompanied him as Solicitor-
General for Ireland, for which office the " patent" is
dated 25th November, 1603. Immediately almost on
his arrival at Dublin, viz. on i8th December, 1603, he
was knighted. The date hitherto given has been " at
Theobald's nth February 1607," but the records of the
Ulster King of Arms make it certain that the knight-
hood was conferred on i8th December, 1603. On the
same occasion his " crest " is described as " On a
mount vert, a Pegasus, or, winged, gules." 9

I know no more noble story than the Work of Sir John
Davies in and for Ireland. Our collection of his Prose
Works, wherein his State Papers and Correspondence
will appear in extenso — from H. M. Public Record
Office and other sources — will make it clear as day
that beyond all comparison he was the foremost man
in the Government. With the sheer hard toil of
humblest attorney slaving for his daily bread, there was
a breadth of view, a self-denying resoluteness of pur-

8 See my edition of Sir Philip Sidney, being prepared for repro-
duction from the Fuller Worthies' Library in the present Series.

9 Sir Bernard Burke and J. N. C. Atkins Davis, Esq., communi-
cations through Mr. Beedham, as before.

xxxvi. ME MORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

pose to benefit his adopted country, a prescience of out-
look into the future combined with fearless and mag-
nanimous dealing with contemporary problems, a high-
hearted resistance in the face of manifold temptations
to slacken effort, and a fecundity of resource and ful-
ness of knowledge and vigilance of observation, that
ought to be written on a white page of our national his-
tory. It is scarcely possible to exaggerate the con-
suming labours and the actual and solid results of
Davies' almost ubiquitory activities in Ireland. In my
full Life of him I hope to make good to the uttermost
this high praise. Here and now a few outward facts
alone can be stated. In 1606, by patents dated suc-
cessively 29th May, 1606, and 2Qth May, I609,1 he was
promoted to be Attorney-General for Ireland, and was
also created Sergeant-at-Arms.2 He went as " Judge
of Assize." His Reports and State Papers, and " Plead-
ings" and Letters, from 1603 onward, demonstrate how
firm was his grasp of circumstance, and how states-
manly he marked out his plans, while his forensic

1 See Smith's Law Officers of Ireland, s.n. The Patent of 29th
May, 1609, I propose to give in extenso in the .Life, as before. It
is extremely interesting.

2 As Sergeant-at-Law he ought to have been resident in Lon-
don, but the King gave him " dispensation " that he might return
to llreand.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxxvii.

appearances astonish with the omniverousness of his
legal reading and knowledge of precedents. Through-
out he was ' backed ' and cheered by his superiors in
Ireland and by the King and his ministers. So early
as gth September, 1604, the Lord Chancellor thus
wrote to Davies : —

Yr lettr written at Cavan the [13 of Julij Last I receyude
the 28 of August. I am gladde to heare of yor [illegible]
& wysh yor seruice & successe therein may be aunswer-
able to yor owne expectations & best hopes. You maye
haue comfort that you serue so gracious a soueraigne, so
religious & replete wth all Royall virtues, and so redy &
wyllinge to acknowledge & remunerate the services &
dueties of his meanest servantesfarre beyonde their desertes.
I doubt not but yor diligence & care will be such as wyll
be very acceptable to his Matie In the Discourse wch you
haue sent me, I fynde not only a very lovinge respcte wch
you have towardes me (for wch I owe you heartie thankes).
But also a very wyse & judicious obseruacon of the state of
this wasted kingdome & the condicon of the people. God
staye his hande from further afflictinge them. They haue
alreadye fealte the scourge of Warre & oppresion &
now are vnder the grevous scourge of famine & pestilence.
God gyue them his grace and make them imprest as true
Christians ought. To become truly Religious towarde God,
Loyall and faythfull to their Soueraigne, constantly obedient
to his lawes & to the effecting thereof. I euer wysh &
praye that they may haue religious virtuous & godly
magistrates sette ouer them. To yor selfe I wish all happi-

xxxviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

nes, and wherein you shall haue occasion to vse mee, you
shall alwayes finde me redy & wyllinge to stande you in
the best stede I can. And so wth my very swete comenda-
cons I comitt you to the Almightye. And rest yor very
assured Loving frende T. ELLESMERE, Cane.

At[torn]feile

9 Septembris 1604.

To the right wor my very Loving frende, Sr. John Davis
Knight, his Maties Solict. generall in his Realme of Ireland.3

A few years later — 1608 — one Letter in full — like all
our MSS., now for the first time printed, — from the Lord
Deputy — the noble Chichester — must suffice as a speci-
men of many kindred.

Noble Mr. Attornie,

Since your departure hence I haue received two ioynt
letters from you, and Sr. James Ley, and one from your selfe
alone, for wch I am not your debter vnlesse it be in the
matter, wch I confessebringes more life wtb it commingfreshe
out of the stoorehouse of neewes and noveltie, for I have
written as manie and more vnto you both.

Albeyt I expect you wth the first passage (for so the lordes
haue promised by their letters) yet can I not leaue you vn-
remembred, assuringe you thoe you have greater friendes,
none respects you better then my selfe, nor can be more
readie to make demonstration therof accordinge to the meanes
I haue. I praye bringe wth you the lordes directions for Sr.
Neale Odonnell, and the rest of the prisoners. Sr. Neale

3 Carte MSS. ff. 315-6.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xxxix.

and Ocatiance [O'Sullivan ?] had contriued their escape and
wouldehaue as desperately attempted it, had I not preuented
it within these sixe nightes by a discoverie made vnto me,
albeyt I keep 20 men euerie neight for the guarde of the
Castle ouer and aboue the warde of the same, whereof two
or three lye in each of their chambers. Their horses were
come to the towne, and all thinges else in readines. Sure
these men doe goe beyond all nations in the worlde for
desperate escapes, Shane Granie Ocarratan [O'Sullivan ?]
after he was acquited of three indictments, and as most
men conceiued free from all danger of the lawe, did on fri-
daye the 2yth of Januarie cast himselfe out of a wyndow
in the topp of the Castle by the heelpe of a peece of
rotten match, and his mantell wch brake before he was
halfe waye downe, and thoe he were presently discovered
yet he escaped about supper tyme.

When I had written thus far worde was brought me that
a passadge [sz^] was come from Hollyheade wch made me to
pause for a tyme hopinge you or some other wth letters, or
other directions, was arriued, but beinge advertised that the
Recorder of this Cyttie only wth a fewe other passengers
had in this fayre weather wrought out a passage by longe
lyeinge att sea, although the wyndes were contrarie, and
that they came from London before Christmas and had
no written letters or message but in theise particulars, I fell
to you againe.

And do now praye you to geue your best assystance and
furtherance to such matters tuchinge my perticulare as John
Strowd or Annesley shall acquaint you wth all, for wch you
shall finde me verie thankfull vnto you.

I haue written to the lordes in the behalfe of the howse

xl. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

servitors here, that they maye be remembered vpon the
deuysion and plantation of the scheated lands in Ulster. I
am discreadited amonge them if they should be forgotten,
and sure the plantation woulde be weake wth out them, for
they must be the pyllers to support it. Those that shall come
from thence wyll not affect it in that kynde as these do, to
make it a settlement for them and theirs ; and in respect of
their wourthier deserts and paynfull labors, and that I haue
vpon my promise to speake effectually for them preuayled
so farre as to staye them from resortinge thither, wch they
woulde doe in great multitudes if I woulde haue given way to
their desire. I wysh that an honorable consideration maye
be had of them before the diuision be concluded. I knowe
that worke is of great moment and on it dependes much of
the prosperitie, and good estate of the whole kingdome. I
haue sayd enough to one that vnderstandes so well : And so
beinge called vpon sooner then I expected I must end wth
the page, but wyll euer be found

Your trewe affected friend

Att Dublyn Castle the yth of ARTHUR CHI CHESTER.

februarie 1608.

I send here wth the proceedinge of the Court of Kingcs
bench in the cause of the Carrolans wch was violently prose-
cuted by the 1. of Howth. I send them by reason it is
thought by the Judges that the Baron will exclaime of their
proceedinges here.

To my verie wourthie friend Sr John Davis Knight his
MatLes Attornie in the Realme of Irelande.4

Two short letters from Bacon — not before printed,
4 Carte, as before, Vol. 62, ff. 313-14.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xli.

having escaped even Mr. Spedding's Argus-eyes —
in the same Carte MSS. — show Davies's pleasant re-
lations with his great contemporary. They are as
follow : —

(I. Carte MS. Vol. 62, ff. 317-18.)

Good Sr Jh. Davies yor mistaking shall not be imputed
to you (for the difference is not much). Yor gratulacons
for my marrige I take kyndly. And as I was all waies de-
lighted wth the fruites of yor [illegible] so I would be gladde
of yor [illegible] so as you plant not yor self to[o] farre of [f] .
For I had rather you should be a laborer than a plant in
that State. You giue me no occasion to wryte longer in
that you impart not by yor 1" any occurrence of yrs. And
so wth my very lovg consid11 towards you

I remayne

Yor assured friend
from Graies Inn, FR. BACON.

this 26th of Dec. 1606.

To my very good Frend Sr Jh. Davis Knt Attorny
g'rall to his M. in Ireland.

(II. Ibid ff, 328-9.)
Mr. Atturny,

I thanke you for yor lre and the discourse you sent of this
mere accident, as thinges then appeared. I see manifestly
the begynnyng of better or woorse. But me thinketh it is
first a tender of the better, and woorse foloweth but vpon re-
fusall or default. I would haue been gladd to see you hear,
but I hope occasion restreineth or meeting for a vacation
when we may haue more fruite of conference. To requite
yor proclamacon ( wch in my judgment is wysely and

xlii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

seriously penned) I send you [illegible] wh [illegible] wch
happened to be in my hands when y08 came.

I would be gladde to hear oft from you and to be adver-
tized how [illegible] passe whereby to haue some occasion to
thinke some good thoughts though I can doe lyttell. At
least it wilbe a contynuance in exercise of or frendshippe wch
on my part remayneth increased by that I hear of yor ser-
vice and the good respects I find towards my self. And
so in extreme hast I remayne

Yor very [illegible] frend
from Graies Inn this FR. BACON.

23th of Oct. 1607.

To the R. W. his verie Lovinge frende Sr lohn Dauys
Knight, his Maties Atturnye in Irelande.

During one of his 'circuits' in Ireland, he met
Eleanor, daughter of Lord Audley (afterwards Earl of
Castlehaven) and was married to her — though the date
has not been traced. Her later years were darkened
with insanity of a strangely voluble type. It is to be
feared she was an ill " help-meet " for her husband.
There is pathos, if also inevitable comedy, in her
career — not here to be entered on.5

While intensely occupied with his official duties, Sir
John Davies did not neglect his literary gift. He was
making history every year — so fundamental and per-

5 See Life to be prefixed to Prose Works for quotations from her
writing's in verse and prose, and for further details.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. xliii.

manent was the part he filled in Ireland — but the Past
was gone back on that he might fetch from it monition
for the Present, and hope for the Future. His imper-
ishable book : " A Discourse of the true reasons why
Ireland has neuer been entirely subdued till the begin-
ning of His Majesty's reign," (4to)6 will reward the
most prolonged study to-day. It was published in
1612. In the same year he was made King's Sergeant
and also elected M.P. for Fermanagh, being the first
representative for that county in the Irish House of
Parliament. He was likewise chosen to be Speaker of
the House ; but not without a characteristically violent
struggle between the Catholics and Protestants.7 He
delivered a notable speech "to the House" on its
opening in 1613. 8 In 1614 he appears in the House
of Commons in England as M.P. for Newcastle-under-
Lyne :9 and his attendance in England was preparatory
to final retirement from Ireland. " Grants of lands "
there from the " forfeitures," — which, if ever any right-
eously acquired, he did l — gave him a special interest

6 See Prose, Vol. II.

7 See fuller Life, as before, for a complete narrative from con-
temporary documents.

8 Ibid, Vol. III. 9 Willis's Nat. Parl., Vol. III., p. 173.

1 In the Life, as before, will be given full details of the Grants,
with a curious paper of his daughter long afterwards making in-
quiries as to what had become of the Irish estates, &c., &c.

xliv. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

in Ireland as a proprietor ; but after all, for such a man,
at such a time, to be limited to Ireland, was but a
splendid exile. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at
that having practically achieved all, and more than all,
he had been given to do, or himself originated, he
sought to return. It is usually stated (e.g. Chalmers,
Woolrych, &c., &c.) that he so returned in 1616 ; but it
was not until 1619 that he did so finally and absolutely ;
for in a letter under date "21 June, 1619," to Bucking-
ham, he is found still only pleading for retirement and
for the transference of his office to a relative.2 It is
one of the treasures of the Fortescue MSS, in the Bod-
leian,3 and is as follows :

My most honored Lord,

I prsesent my most humble Thanks to yr LP for
presenting mee to his M a1? the last Day, at Wansted ; &
for yr noble favour in furthering the suit I then made, as
well for mine owne stay in England, as for my recommend-
ing a fitt man to my place of service in Ireland.

The Gentleman to whom I wish this place now, is much
obliged to yr Lp already, & well worthy of yr Lps favours,
& besides his owne worthines (hee being a Reader &
Judge of a circuit, of wch degree & quality never any before

2 It will be observed that in the Letter Sir John does not name
the gentleman he wishes to succeed him. It was no doubt Sir
William Ryves, who actually was appointed. The "neere alli-
ance " was through the family of Mervyn, and is shown in the

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

xlv.

was sent out of England to supply that place), hee is of
neere alliance vnto mee. So as, where there is concurrence
of meritt & kinred, yr LP may conjecture that I deale wth
him like a gentleman & a friend, & not like a marchent.
Albeit I wi11 leave a good place there, wthout any praesent

following details drawn up for me by Mr. B. H. Beedham, from
information communicated by Mr. J. N. C. Davis, as before :

George Touchet, Earl of Castle-
haven.

Lucy, d. of Sir James Mervyn,
Fonthill, Wilts.

Sir John Davies Lady Eleanor Touchet

Edward Davys
Joan Cave

Matthew Davys
b. 1595 ob. 1678.

Anne d. of
Edward Mer-
vyn of Font-
hill, ob. 8th
Nov. 1657.

John Ryves of Daunsey Court

Elizabeth d. of John Mervyn

(several children)
— Sth son.

Sir Thomas Ryves, Master
in Chancery : Judge of the
Prerogative Court there.

Sir William Ryves settled
in Ireland ; had numerous
appointments, and made
large purchases of estates;
Attorney General.

1 No. 245. For a notice of the collection from which the above
Letter is for the first time printed, see Preface to " The Fortescue

Papers Edited ... by Samuel R. Gardiner, for the Camden

Society (1871). My friend Mr. Gardiner must have overlooked
Davios's important letter.

xlvi. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

preferment heer (whereof none of my profession have failed
at their return out of Ireland) I might, perhaps wth some
reason expect some Retribution, to recompence the charge
of Transporting my famely from thence, & of setling it heer
in this Kingdome, where I am become almost an Alien by
reason of my long absence.

For this particular favour of transferring my place to so
well deserving a successor, I doo wholly depend vppon yr
Lp as I shall euer doo vpon all other occasions, while I live,
as one that have separated my self from all other depen-
dancies, beeing entirely devoted to doo yr LP all humble &
faythful service

Jo: Daily s.
21 Junij 1619.

if my long service may induce favour, yr Lp may bee
pleased to looke vppon the noate enclosed.

To the right honorable my very good lord

my lord the Marques of Buckingham, &c.

It is to be regretted that the " noate " of the post-
script has not been preserved. It probably enumerated
his public services.

Sir William Ryves succeeded as Attorney-General
for Ireland by Patent dated 3oth October, i6i9.4
From 1619 onward, Sir John Davies is found in the
House of Commons (still for Newcastle-under-Lyne)

4 By inadvertence the Patent describes Sir John Davies as
" deceased." Unless used as = departed (from Ireland), or =
having ceased to fill the office, it is a singular oversight.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. xlvii.

and " on circuit " as a Judge. His " Charges " — to be
given in his Prose Works — as " one of the Justices of
Assize for the Northerne Circute " — are very character-
istic, being full of legal ' precedents,' and noticeable
in their tracing up the verdict sought to abiding prin-
ciples. He took part in the memorable "case" of
Frances, Countess of Somerset, for the poison-murder
of Sir Thomas Overbury. In the House of Commons
he spoke seldom ; but when anything that concerned
Irish interests came up he never failed to contend in
behalf of Ireland.5

Lightening his legal employments were a large
correspondence and * fellowship ' with his most emi-
nent contemporaries, and the collection of his Poetical
Works, in so far as he wished them to go down
to posterity. Of the former I select one undated
letter to the illustrious Sir Robert Cotton, with whom
he had been early acquainted, and associated in 1614,
in re-establishing the Society of Antiquaries, originally
founded in 1590. One of these is a sprightly and
pleasant letter, and all the more welcome that most of
his correspondence that remains is official and grave.
The lighter letter is as follows, from MSS. Cotton :
Julius C. III., p. 14 : now paged 133, British Museum:

5 In the Life, as before, his appearances in Parliament will be
noted and illustrated.

xlviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Sweet Robin, for a few sweet words, a client of mine hath
presented me wth sweet meates, to what end I know not
except it be, as Chaucer speakes,

To make mine English sweet uppon my tongue,
that I may pleade the better for him to morrow at the
Scale.

Not wth standing, the best vse that I can make of it, is to
preesent you wth it, especially at this time when you ar in
Physick, that you may sweeten your tast after the Rhew-
barb. I have been a little distracted wth vnexpected
busines these two or three last dayes, that I cold not per-
forme my officious promise to visit you in this voluntary
sicknes of yours ; but [erased] now I am faine to make my
hands to excuse my feet from travayling vnto you, because
being the servant of the multitude I am not mine owne man.
Make much of your self, & make yr self speedily well, that I
may have your company towards Cambridge, from whence I
will go wth you to see the ancient Seat of Robt. le Bruis ; so
wishing you a prosperous operation of your Phisick, at least
that you may Imagine so, for it is the Imagination that doth
good, & not the Physick, wch I ever thought a meere im-
posture ; I cease to troble you least the intention of to
much Reading hinder the working of those vertuous drugs.

Y" all & ever

J. Dauis.
( Endorsed) To my worthy friend

Rob: Cotton esquier.

A second letter runs thus, from MSS. Cotton : Julius
C. III., p. 32:—

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xlix.

Noble Sr Robert : the ordinary subject of letters is,
newes, whereof this kingdome since the warres, hath been
very barren ; therefore I must write vnto you that wch is no
newes, that is, that I love you, & hold a kind & dear
memory of you.

according to my promise to yr self & Mr. Sollicker of
England who is now, I hear, a Judge, I have caused this
bearer to draw some Mapps of or principall Cittyes of Ire-
land ; & he having occasion to go for England, I have
thought fitt to direct him vnto you. he is an honest inge-
nuous yong ma & of yr owne Name. I hear not yet of ye
Antiquities out of Cumberland ; if they be brought hither
I will take care to transmitt the to London, & so in speciall
hast, being ready to go my circuit ovr all Munster I leave
you to ye divine p'servation.

Ys to do you Service,

Io: Dauys.
Dublin 4 Martij 1607.

I desire to be affectionately remembred to Mr.
Justice Doddridge & Mr. Clarencieux.

His Poems, as finally collected by him, appeared in a
thin octavo in 1622. His Prose Works he never col-
lected, but allowed them to be re-published separately.
His " True Cause " passed through several editions
during his own life-time. One of his most important
prose-books after the " True Cause " brings us to the
closing event of his busy and various-coloured life.

d

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

It is entitled in the first issue, which was posthumous6
— " The Question concerning Impositions, Tonnage,
Poundage, Prizage, Customs, &c. Fully stated and
argued, from Reason, Law, and Policy. Dedicated to
King James in the latter end of his Reign." (1656.)
This historically-memorable treatise has already been
reproduced in the Prose Works.7 Elsewhere I examine
it critically.8 It must suffice here to state that later the
King (Charles I.), having an impoverished exchequer,
had recourse to forced loans of various amounts.
Hating the control of Parliament, he persisted in sub-
stituting his will for law, his " proclamation" for statute.
Feeling the treacherousness of his standing-ground of
prerogative, the Judges were applied to, and with
loyalty to the monarch rather than to their country,
they somewhat favoured the King's 'demands.7
Charles deemed their " opinion " to have a somewhat
" uncertain sound," and presented to the Judges a
paper for their signature, recognising the legality of the
collection. This was refused. One of the victims of
the sovereign's wrath was Chief-Justice Crew, who was
"discharged" on the 9th of November, 1626 (Foss's

6 Woolrych, as before, splits the one work into several, and
mistakes MSS. of it for distinct works. Vol. I., pp. 209-10.

7 VoLIIL, pp. 1-116. 8 In the fuller Life, as before.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Judges, vi., p. 291). Sir John Davies was appointed
as his successor ; and one cannot help recognising
that the opinions revealed in his " Jus Imponendi "
contributed to the succession. For one, I should
rather have found Sir John Davies on the other side,
spite of his great array of " precedents " and ingeni-
ous applications to the then circumstances and exi-
gencies, and necessarily ignorant of the lengths
Charles as distinguished from James, was to proceed.
Technically, there had been " precedents " no doubt ;
but long " use and wont " had rendered so-called
regal rights obsolete, and it was insanity to revive
them, as Charles I., — who inherited James's high no-
tions of regal authority, — found out when too late.
But, passing to Davies, the " lean fellow " called
Death was nearer the Knight than was the Chief-
Justiceship. Purple and ermine robes were actually
bought, but they were not to be donned. He had
told a Mr. Mead that he was at supper with the Lord
Keeper on the yth of December,9 and that he fully
expected the great promotion. The air was thick with
" reports " to the same effect. He was found dead in
his bed on the morning of the 8th December, cut
down, it has been supposed, by apoplexy. Three days

9 Pearce's " Inns of Court," p. 293.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

after, he was interred in S. Martin's Church, London.
Later a double inscription for himself and his widow
(who was re-married to Sir Archibald Douglas,) long
hung on the third pillar, near the grave. The original
Latin, with our translation, are as follow :2 —

D. O. M. S.

Johannes Davys Equestris ordinis quondam Attor-
nati Regii .Generalis amplissima prudentia in regno
Hyberniae functus, inde in patriam revocatus
inter servientes Domini Regis ad Legem primum
Locum obtinuit ; post varia in utrone munere prae
clare gesta ad ampliora jam designatus, repente
spem suorum destituit suam implevit ab humanis
honoribus ad coelestem gloriam evocatus

/Etatis anno 57.°

Vir ingenio compto, rara facundia
Oratione cum solut& turn numeris restricta

Felicissimus.
Juridicam severitatem morum elegantia et ameniore eruditione

temperavit.

ludex incorruptus ; Patronus fidus
Ingenuae pietatis amore et anxiae superstitionis contemptu

luxta insignis.
Plebeiarum animarum in religionis negotio

2 See Stow's " Environs of London," by Strype, Book VI., p.
72. But our text of the Inscriptions is from the Carte MSS. Dr.
E. F. Rimbault's MS. in the autograph of John Le Neve, as pub-
lished in Notes and Queries, ist series, Vol. V., p. 331, is inexplic-
ably imperfect and blundering.

MEMORIAL-IN TROD UCTION.

Pervicacem fUKpofaxiw ex edito despiciebet

Fastidium leniente miseratione.

Ipse magnanime probus, religiosus, liber, et coelo admotus
Uxorem habuit Dominam Eleanoram Honoratissimi

Comitis de Castlehaven Baronis Audley filiam

Unicam ex ea prolem superstitem hseredem reliquit

Luciam illustrissimo Ferdinando Baroni

Hastings Huntingdonise Comiti nuptam.

Diem Supremam obiit 8° idus Decembris

Anno Domini 1626.
Apud nos exemplum relinquens, hie resurrectionem

justorum expectat.
Accubat dignissimo marito incomparabilis uxor

Quae illustre genus
Et generi pares animos
Christiana mansuetudine temperavit
Erudita super sexum
Mitis infra sortem
Plurimis Major
Quia humilior

In eximia forma sublime ingenium
In venusta comitate singularem modestiam

In femineo corpore viriles animos

In rebus adversissimis serenam mentem

In impio sseculo pietatem et rectitudinem inconcussam

Possedit.

Non illi robustam animam aut res lauta laxavit, aut

Angusta contraxit, sed utramque sortem pari vultu

Animoque non excepit modo sed rexit

Quippe Dei plena cui plenitudini

Mundus nee benignus addere

liv. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Nee malignus detrahere potuisset

Satis Deum jamdudum spirans et sursum aspirans sui

Ante et Reip. fati praesaga, salutisque seternae certissima

Ingente latoque ardore in Servatoris dilectissimi sinum

Ipsius sanguine lotam animam efflavit

Rebus humanis exempta immortalitatem induit

III. Non. Quintilis Anno Salutis 1652.

Ps. 16. 9.

Etiam caro mea habitat secure qua non es
Derelicturus animam meam in sepulchre.

D(eo) O(ptimo) M(aximo) S(acrum)

To God the Best and Greatest : Sacred.

John Davys of knightly rank, having formerly

discharged with prudence the highest duties of

King's Attorney General in the realm of Ireland :

thence having been recalled to his own country,

secured the first place among the servants

of his lord the King, at the Law. After various

services nobly rendered in each office, being now

nominated to more distinguished (appointments)

he suddenly frustrated the hope of his friends

but fulfilled his own — being called away

from human honours to celestial glory,

in the year of his age 57.

A man for accomplished genius, for uncommon
eloquence, for language whether free or bound

in verse,
Most happy.

Judicial sternness with elegance of manners

and more pleasant learning

he tempered.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UC TION. 1 v.

An uncorrupt Judge, a faithful Patron
For love of free-born piety and contempt of fretting superstition

alike remarkable.

He looked down from on high on the obstinate narrowness
of plebeian souls in the matter of religion,

pity softening his disdain.
Himself magnanimously just, religious, free, and moved by

heaven,
Had for wife the Lady Eleanor of the Right Honble.

Earl of Castlehaven, Baron Audley, daughter :

His only surviving offspring by her he left as heiress,

Lucy, to the most illustrious Ferdinand Baron

Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon, married.

He spent his last day the 8th December

In the year of our Lord 1626.

With us leaving an example : here for the resurrection
of the Just, he waits.

Near to her most worthy husband lies his incomparable Wife :

Who her illustrious birth

And spirit equal to her race

With Christian mildness tempered.

Learned above her sex,

Meek below her rank,

Than most people greater

Because more humble,

In eminent beauty She possessed a lofty mind,
In pleasing affability, singular modesty :

In a woman's body a man's spirit,

In most adverse circumstances a serene mind,

In a wicked age unshaken piety and uprightness.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Not for her did Luxury relax her strong soul, or
Poverty narrow it : but each lot with equal countenance

And mind, she not only took but ruled.

Nay she was full of God, to which fulness

Neither a smiling world could have added,

Nor from it a frowning world have taken away.

Now for a long time sufficiently breathing of God

and aspiring above, of her own
And the Commonwealth's fate divining beforehand,

And most sure of Eternal Salvation

With a mighty and huge ardour into her Beloved Saviour's

breast, She breathed forth her soul washed in His own blood.

Taken away from things human she put on immortality

on the fifth of July, in the year of Salvation, 1652.

Ps. 16. 9.

My flesh also dwells securely because Thou wilt not
leave my soul in the sepulchre.

One is willing to accept the " golden lies " of these
Epitaphs in either case.

Sir John Davies had several children. One, who was
semi-idiotic, was drowned in Ireland. Others alleged
to have been born, have not been traced. His daugh-
ter Lucy, of the Inscriptions, and by whom, no doubt,
they were procured, became famous in her generation
as Countess of Huntingdon. We have to deplore
that while we have a fine portrait of her, none, as yet,
has been found of her Father. His Will and Charities,
and their singular after-history, will be given in my
fuller Life (as before). Pass we now to

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

II. CRITICAL.

T SHALL limit myself in this second half of the Me-
morial-Introduction to a brief statement and examina-
tion of certain characteristics of the Poetry of Sir John
Davies — the limitation being imposed by the contents
of the present volumes.3 There are Poets whose truest
and most certain fame rests on so-called minor poems ;
and yet commonly their bulkier productions have over-
shadowed these. From Milton to Wordsworth it is to
be lamented that to the many they should be repre-
sented by " Paradise Lost " and " The Excursion " ; or
to descend, that Thomas Campbell and Samuel Rogers
should have so hidden behind their " Pleasures of
Hope " and " Pleasures of Memory " their rare and real
faculty as Poets — for while in the larger poems of
Milton and Wordsworth there is of the imperishable
stuff that only genius of a lofty type weaves, it is
rather (meojudicid) in "purple patches" than in the web
as a whole. In Milton and Wordsworth you do not
read them at their highest in their Epics but in their

3 His Prose is of no common order ; and will be critically ex-
amined in the fuller Life, along with his Prose Works in the
Fuller Worthies' Library, as before.

Iviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

shorter poems ; while Campbell and Rogers should
long since have died out of men's hearts had they left
nothing behind them save the smooth and prize-poem-
like common-places of their "Pleasures." In Milton
the remark requires modification, for only in " Paradise
Lost " has he put forth to uttermost daring his Imagi-
nation— than which no writer of all time has ap-
proached him for grandeur of vision and splendour of
utterance. But substantially I think that those capable
of discernment will agree with me that if Time may
shut and leave unread except by an elect few, many
pages of the 'great' and volume-filling poems, the
lesser will assuredly draw more and more homage, and
abide the regalia of our Literature.

It is different with Sir John Davies. His " Orchestra"
and " Hymnes to Astraea " and Minor Poems, preceded
considerably his " Nosce Teipsum," but it was his
" Nosce Teipsum " that made King James I. prick up
his ears on hearing his name, and it is " Nosce Teipsum"
that is the poem that will secure immortality to Sir
John Davies. His other poetry has special remarkable-
nesses — as will appear — but in " Nosce Teipsum" alone
have we the inspiration and spontaneity, the insight
and speculation, the subtlety and yet definiteness, the
"burden" (in the prophetic sense) and the melody

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. lix.

of the Poet as distinguished from the versifier or verse-
Rhetorician.

I value " Nosce Teipsum " as a first thing for its deep
and original thinking, i.e. for its intellectual strength — all
the more remarkable that as the former part of the
Memorial-Introduction shows, he was only in his 28th-
2 Qth year when he composed it. Of its art I shall have
somewhat to say anon : but regarding it as a "philo-
sophical poem " and as a contribution to metaphysic, I
place foremost the THOUGHT in it, as at once a charac-
teristic and a merit (if merit be not too poor a word).
DAVIES (along with FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE
and DONNE) simply as Thinker on the profoundest prob-
lems of nature and human nature, seems to me to
stand out pre-eminently, and in saying this, I regard it
as sheer nonsense to exalt the workmanship at the
expense of the material — to ask me to recognize in
a bit of tin ingeniously and painstakingly etched into a
kind of miracle of execution something co-equal with
a solid bar of gold as it gleams i' the face of the sun
in its purged and massive simpleness ; or to put it
unmetaphorically, I must pronounce judgment on the
rank of a Poet qua a Poet fundamentally on the kind
and quality of the thought on higher and deeper things
that he puts into his verse and that he strikes out in

Ix. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

others. Your mere artist-Poet is surely third-rate
and must even go beneath the music-composer of to-day.
" Nosce Teipsum " as it was practically the earliest
so it remains the most remarkable example of deep re-
flective-meditative thinking in verse in our language
or in any language. The student of this great poem
will very soon discover that within sometimes homeliest
metaphors there is folded a long process of uncommon
thought on the every-day facts of our mysterious exis-
tence. I call the thinking deep, because " Nosce
Teipsum " reveals more than eyes that looked on the
surface — reveals penetrative and bold descent to the
roots of our being and Teachings upward to the Highest.
Your mere realistic word-painter of what he sees, is
shallow beside a Poet who passes beneath the surface
and circumstance and fetches up from sunless depths or
down from radiant altitudes fact and facts — each con-
tributory to that ultimate philosophy which while it shall
accept every proved fact, will not rush off hysterically
shouting " eureka," with ribald accusations of all that
generations have held to be venerable and sustaining.
I call the thinking original, for there is evidence every-
where in "Nosce Teipsum" that the penitent recluse of
Oxford made his own self his study — as really if not as
avowedly as Wordsworth.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. Ixi.

I am aware in claiming originality for Davies that in
that huge waste-basket of our Literature — Nichols'
Literary Illustrations (Vol. IV. pp. 549-50) there is a
letter from an Alexander Dalrymple, Esq., who is
designated " the great hydrographer " to "Mr. Herbert"
( the Bibliographer I opine ) wherein he takes dif-
ferent ground. We must traverse his charge. He
thus writes : — " Dear Sir, I have lately purchased the

following old books" (he enumerates several)

" I have also got ' Wither's translation of Nemesius de
Natura hominis ' by which I find Sir John Davies's
poem on the Immortality of the Soul is chiefly taken

from Nemesius " "I have picked up a tract in

4to by Thomas Jenner, with some very good plates, the
marginal notes of which seem to be what the heads of
Tate's edition of Sir John Davies's are taken from."

Were this true it would utterly take from "Nosce
Teipsum " the first characteristic and merit I claim for
it — deep and original thought. But it is absolutely
untrue, an utter delusion, as any one will find who takes
the pains that I have done to read, either the original
Nemesius, or what this sapient book-buyer mentions,
Wither's translation. With my mind and memory full
of " Nosce Teipsum " and the poem itself beside me,
I have read and re-read every page, sentence and

Ixii. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

word of Nemesius and Wither (and there is a good
deal of Wither in his translation: 1636) and I have
not come upon a single metaphor or (as the old margin-
notes called them) "similies," or even observation in
" Nosce Teipsum " drawn from Nemesius or Wither.
The only element in common is that necessarily
Nemesius adduces and discusses the opinions of the
Heathen Philosophers on the many matters handled by
him, and Sir John Davies does the same with equal
inevitableness. But to base a charge of plagiarism
against " Nosce Teipsum " on this, is to reason on the
connection between Tenterden Steeple and Goodwin
Sands (if the well-worn folly be a permissible reference).
The following is the title-page of the quaint old tome
and as it is by no means scarce, any reader can cross-
question our witness : " The Nature of Man. A
learned and useful Tract written in Greek by Nemesius,
surnamed the Philosopher ; sometime Bishop of a City
in Phcenecia, and one of the most ancient Fathers of
the Church. Englyshed, and divided into Sections,
with briefs of their principle contents by Geo. Wither.
London : Printed by M. F. for Henry Taunton in
St. Duncan's Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1636." (12°
21 leaves and pp. 661.) Chronologically — Wither's
translation was not published until 1636, while "Nosce

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixiii.

Teipsum" was published in 1599 ; but Nemesius' own
book no more than Wither's warrants any such prepos-
terous statements as this Alexander Dalrymple makes.
Even in the treatment of the " opinions " of the
Heathen Philosophers which come up in Nemesius, and
in " Nosce Teipsum," the latter while ' intermedling '
with the same returns wholly distinct answers in refu-
tation. The " opinions " themselves as being derived
of necessity from the same sources are identical ; but
neither their statement nor refutation. Nemesius
is ingenious and well-learned, but heavy and prosaic.
Sir John Davies is light of touch and a light of poetic
glory lies on the lamest " opinion." The " Father of
the Church " goes forth to war with encumbering
armour : the Poet naked and unarmed beyond the spear
wherewith he ' pierces' everything, viz. human conscious-
ness. Jenner's forgotten book had perhaps been read
by Tate, but that concerns Tate not Sir John Davies.
I pronounce it a hallucination to write "Sir John Davies'
poem on the immortality of the Soul is chiefly taken
from Nemesius." Not one line was taken from Ne-
mesius.

Before passing on it may be well to illustrate here
from the " contents " of two chapters (representative of
the whole) in Wither's Nemesius, the merely super-

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

ficial agreement between them and " Nosce Teipsum."
In the Poem under " The Soule of Man and the Im-
mortalitie thereof " various opinions of its ' nature ' are
thus summarized :

" One thinks the Soule is aire; another fire ;
Another blood, diffus'd about the heart ;
Another saith, the elements conspire,
And to her essence each doth giue a part.

Musicians thinke our Soules are harmonies,
Phisicians hold that they complexions bee ;
Epicures make them swarmes of atomies,
Which doe by chance into our bodies flee." (p. 26.)

In Nemesius, c. 2. § i, the 'headings' are : " I. The
severall and different Opinions of the Ancients concern-
ing the Sovl, as whether it be a Substance ; whether
corporeall, or incoporeall, whether mortal or immortal
P. II. The confutation of those who affirme in general
that the Sovl is a corporeall-substance. III. Confuta-
tions of their particular Arguments, who affirme that
the Sovl is Blood, Water, or Aire." These are all
common-places of ancient 'opinion 'and of the subject;
and anything less poetical than Nemesius' treatment of
them is scarcely imaginable. Here if anywhere Davies'
indebtedness must have been revealed; but not one
scintilla of obligation suggests itself to the Reader.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixv.

Again in the Poem, after a subtle and very remarkable
* confutation ' of the notion that the Soul is a thing of
' Sense ' only, there comes proof " That the Soule is
more than the Temperature of the humours of the
Body ;" and nowhere does Davies show a more
cunning hand than in his statement of the ' false
opinion.' Turning once more to Nemesius c. II. § 3,
these are its ' headings : ' — " I. It is here declared,
that the Soul is not (as Galen implicitly affirmeth) a
Temperature in general. II. It is here proved also,
that the Soul is no particular temperature or quality.
III. And it is likewise demonstrated that the Soul is
rather governesse of the temperatures of the Body, both
ordering them, and subduing the vices which arise from
the bodily tempers." Here again we would have
expected some resemblances or suggestions ; but again
there is not a jot or tittle of either. Thus is it through-
out. One might as well turn up the words used in
" Nosce Teipsum " in a quotation-illustrated Dictionary
of the English Language (such as Richardson's) and
argue .' plagiarism ' because of necessarily agreeing
definitions, as from a few scattered places in " Nosce
Teipsum " discussing the same topics, allege appropria-
tion of Nemesius. Your mere readers of title-pages

Ixvi. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

and contents, or glancers over indices are constantly
blundering after this fashion. Dalrymple was one of
these.

The headings of the successive sections — removed in
our text from the margins to their several places — suf-
fice to inform us of the original lines of thought and
research and illustration pursued in "Nosce Teipsum"
and thither I refer the Reader. The merest glance
will show that in " Nosce Teipsum " you have the whole
breadth of the field traversed — and that for the first
time in Verse. I can only very imperfectly illustrate
either the depth or the originality of the poem. Almost
as at the opening of the book, take these uniting both : —

" And yet alas, when all our lamps are burnd,
Our bodyes wasted, and our spirits spent ;
When we haue all the learned Volumes turn'd,
Which yeeld mens wits both help and ornament :

What can we know ? or what can we discerne ?
When Error chokes the windowes of the minde,
The diuers formes of things, how can we learne,
That haue been euer from our birth-day blind ?

When Reasoned lampe, which (like the sunne in skie)
Throughout Man's little world her beames did spread ;
Is now become a sparkle, which doth lie
Vnder the ashes, halfe extinct, and dead :

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. Ixvii.

How can we hope, that through the eye and eare,
This dying sparkle, in this cloudy place,
Can recollect these beames of knowledge cleere,
Which were infus'd in the first minds by grace ?

So might the heire whose father hath in play
Wasted a thousand pound of ancient rent ;
By painefull earning of a groate a day,
Hope to restore the patrimony spent.

The wits that diu'd most deepe and soar'd most hie
Seeking Man's pow'rs, haue found his weaknesse such :
" Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth flie,
" We learne so little and forget so much.

For this the wisest of all morall men
Said, ' He knerw nought, but that he nought did knoiv';
And the great mocking- Master mockt not then,
When he said, ' Truth ivas buried deepe beloiv.'

For how may we to others' things attaine,
When none of vs his owne soule vnderstands ?
For which the Diuell mockes our curious braine,
When, ' Knoiv thy selfe ' his oracle commands.

For why should wee the busie Soule beleeue,
When boldly she concludes of that and this ;
When of her selfe she can no Judgement giue,
Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what she is ?

All things without, which round about we see,
We seeke to knowe, and how therewith to doe ;

Ixviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

But that whereby we reason, Hue and be,
Within our selues, we strangers are thereto.

We seeke to know the mouing of each spheare,

And the strange cause of th' ebs and flouds of Nile ;
But of that clock, within our breasts we beare,
The subtill motions we forget the while.

We that acquaint our selues with euery Zoane
And passe both Tropikes and behold the Poles,
When we come home, are to our selues vnknown,
And vnacquainted still with our owne Soules.

We study Speech but others we perswade ;
We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it ;
We interpret laives, which other men haue made,
But reade not those which in our hearts are writ."

(pp. 18-20.)
Again : —

IN WHAT MANNER THE SoULE IS UNITED TO THE
BODY.

BUT how shall we this union well expresse ?
Nought ties the soule ; her subtiltie is such
She moues the bodie, which she doth possesse,
Yet no part toucheth, but by Venue's touch.

Then dwels shee not therein as in a tent,
Nor as a pilot in his ship doth sit ;
Nor as the spider in his web is pent ;
Nor as the waxe retaines the print in it ;

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixix.

Nor as a vessell water doth containe ;
Nor as one liquor in another shed ;
Nor as the heat doth in the fire remaine ;
Nor as a voice throughout the ayre is spread :

But as the faire and cheerfull Morning light,
Doth here and there her siluer beames impart,
And in an instant doth herselfe vnite
To the transparent ayre, in all, and part :

Still resting whole, when blowes th' ayre diuide :
Abiding pure, when th' ayre is most corrupted ;
Throughout the ayre, her beams dispersing wide,
And when the ayre is tost, not interrupted :

So'doth the piercing Soule the body fill,
Being all in all, and all in part diffus'd ;
Indiuisible, incorruptible still,
Not forc't, encountred, troubled or confus'd.

And as the sunne aboue, the light doth bring,
Though we behold it in the ayre below ;
So from th' Eternall Light the Soule doth spring,
Though in the body she her powers doe show.

(pp. 61-2.)
Further,, " An Acclamation " : —

AN ACCLAMATION.

O ! what is Man (great Maker of mankind !)
That Thou to him so great respect dost beare !
That Thou adornst him with so brig;ht a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and euen an angel's peere I.

Ixx. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

O ! what a liuely life, what heauenly power,
What spreading vertue, what a sparkling fire !
How great, how plentifull, how rich a dower
Dost Thou within this dying flesh inspire !

Thou leau'st Thy print in other works of Thine,
But Thy whole image Thou in Man hast writ ;
There cannot be a creature more diuine,
Except (like Thee) it should be infinit.

But it exceeds man's thought, to thinke how hie
God hath raisd Man, since God a man became ;
The angels doe admire this Misterie,
And are astonisht when they view the same.

(pp. 81-2.)
Again : —

THAT THE SOULE is IMMORTAL, AND CANNOT DIE.

NOR hath he giuen these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the bodie's life depend ;
The Soule though made in time, suruives for aye,
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.

Her onely end, is neuer-ending blisse ;
Which is, th9 eternall face of God to see ;
Who Last of Ends, and First of Causes, is :
And to doe this, she must eternall bee.

How senselesse then, and dead a soule hath hee,
Which thinks his soule doth with his body die !
Or thinkes not so, but so would haue it bee,
That he might sinne with more securitie.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Ixxi.

For though these light and vicious persons say,
Our Soule is but a smoake, or ayrie blast ;
Which, during life, doth in our nostrils play,
And when we die, doth turne to wind at last :

Although they say, ' Come let us eat and drinke'\
Our life is but a sparke, which quickly dies ;
Though thus they say, they know not what to think,
But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.

Therefore no heretikes desire to spread
Their light opinions, like these Epicures :
For so the staggering thoughts are comforted,
And other men's assent their doubt assures.

Yet though these men against their conscience striue,
There are some sparkles in their flintie breasts
Which cannot be extinct, but still reuiue;
That though they would, they cannot quite bee beasts

But who so makes a mirror of his mind,

And doth with patience view himselfe therein,
His Soule's eternitie shall clearely find,
Though th' other beauties be defac't with sin.

(pp. 82-3.)
Further, " An Acclamation " : —

AN ACCLAMATION.

O ignorant poor 'man ! what dost thou beare
Lockt vp within the casket of thy brest ?
What iewels, and what riches hast thou there !
What heauenly treasure in so weak a chest !

Ixxii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Looke in thy soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the flood :
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted Good.

Thinke of her worth, and thinke that God did meane.
This worthy mind should worthy things imbrace ;
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts vnclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passions base ;

Kill not her quickning power with surfettings,
Mar not her Sense with sensualitie ;
Cast not her serious wit on idle things :
Make not her free-it^//, slaue to vanitie.

And when thou think'st of her eternitie,
Thinke not that Death against her nature is ;
Thinke it a birth ; and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to blisse.

And if thou, like a child, didst feare before,

Being in the darke, where thou didst nothing see :
Now I haue broght thee torch-light, feare no more ;
Now when thou diest, thou canst not hud-winkt be.

And thou, my Soule, which turn'st thy curious eye,
To view the beames of thine owne forme diuine ;
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly,
While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine.

Take heed of ouer-iveening, and compare

Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's traine;

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxiii.

Study the best, and highest things, that are,
But of thy selfe, an humble thought retaine.

Cast down thy selfe, and onely striue to raise
The glory of thy Maker's sacred Name ;
Vse all thy powers, that Blessed Power to praise,
Which giues the power to bee, and vse the same.

(pp. 114-16.)

Finally, here is a simile well-wrought in itself and
accidentally to be for ever associated with a celebrated
criticism : —

THE MOTION OF THE SOULE.

.... how can shee but immortall bee ?
When with the motions of both Will and Wit,
She still aspireth to eternitie,
And neuer rests, till she attaine to it ?

Water in conduit pipes, can rise no higher
Then the wel-head, from whence it first doth spring :
Then sith to eternall GOD shee doth aspire,
Shee cannot be but an eternall thing. (p. 85.)

The second stanza contains a metaphor that was stolen
and murdered as well, by Robert Montgomery. Con-
cerning his use of it Macaulay thus wrote in his merciless
review : — " We would not be understood, however, to
say that Mr. Robert Montgomery cannot make simili-
tudes for himself. A very few lines further on we find

Ixxiv. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

one which has every mark of originality and on which
we will be bound, none of the poets whom he has plun-
dered will ever think of making reprisal : —

' The soul aspiring, pants its source to mount,
As streams meander level with their fount."

" We take this to be on the whole the worst similitude
in the world. In the first place, no stream meanders,
or can possibly meander level with its fount. In the
next place, if streams did meander level with their
fount, no two motions can be less like each other than
that of meandering level and that of mounting upwards."
True ; but none the less is the original ' spoiled ' and
despoiled metaphor, accurate and vivid.

If the Reader will surrender himself to the task, he
will be rewarded for studying and re-studying the entire
poem of " Nosce Teipsum ;" and, unless I very much
mistake, will then regard Hallam's judgment on it as in-
adequate rather than exaggerate, as (with intercalated
remarks), thus : " A more remarkable poem [than Dray-
ton's and Daniel's] is that of Sir John Davies, afterwards
Chief Justice of Ireland [a mistake], entitled, ' Nosce
Teipsum,' published in 1599, usually, though rather in-
accurately, called ' On the Immortality of the Soul/
Perhaps no language can produce a poem, extending to

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. Ixxv.

so great a length, of more condensation of thought, or in
which fewer languid verses will be found. Yet, accord-
ing to some definitions [of poetry] the 'Nosce Teipsum'
is wholly unpoetical, inasmuch as it shows no passion
[a greater blunder still] and little fancy [a third mis-
take]. If it reaches the heart at all, it is through the
reason. But since strong argument in terse and correct
style fails not to give us pleasure in prose, it seems
strange that it should lose its effect when it gains the
aid of regular metre to gratify the ear and assist the
memory. Lines there are in Davies which far out-
weigh much of the descriptive and imaginative poetry
of the last two centuries, whether we estimate them by
the pleasure they impart to us, or by the intellectual
vigour they display. Experience has shown that the
faculties familiarly deemed poetical are frequently ex-
hibited in a considerable degree, but very few have
been able to preserve a perspicuous beauty without stiff-
ness or pedantry (allowance made for the subject and
the times), in metaphysical reasoning, so successfully
as Sir John Davies."4 The alleged " no passion" is con-
tradicted by the various pathetic autobiographic intro-
spections and confessions brought out in this Memorial-

4 Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the I5th, i6th, and
i 7th Centuries: Vol. II., p. 227, edn. 1860.

Ixxvi. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Introduction, and not less so by the outbursts of
adoration and praise that thunder up like the hosannahs
before the great White Throne. The similarly alleged
"little fancy" is one of manifold proofs that the critic
was the most superficial of all imaginable readers with
so much pretention. " Nosce Teipsum " is radiant as
the dew-bedabbled grass with delicacies of fancy, not a
few of the " fancies " being as exquisitely touched as
divine work.

Campbell in his " Essay on English Poetry " (pre-
fixed to his " Specimens ") may be read with interest
after Hallam. Accepting from Johnson as Johnson from
Dryden the name of " metaphysical poets," he observes :
— " The term of metaphysical poetry would apply with
much more justice to the quatrains of Sir John Davies
and those of Sir Fulke Greville, writers who, at a later
period, found imitators in Sir Thomas Overbury and
Sir William Davenant. Davies's poem on the Immor-
tality of the Soul, entitled " Nosce teipsum? will convey
a much more favourable idea of metaphysical poetry
than the wittiest effusions of Donne and his followers.
Davies carried abstract reasoning into verse with an
acuteness and felicity which have seldom been equalled.
He reasons undoubtedly with too much labour, for-
mality, and subtlety, to afford uniform poetical pleasure.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. Ixxvii.

The generality of his stanzas exhibit hard arguments
interwoven with the pliant materials of fancy so closely,
that we may compare them to a texture of cloth and
metallic threads, which is cold and stiff, while it is
splendidly curious. There is this difference, however,
between Davies and the commonly-styled metaphysical
poets, that he argues like a hard thinker, and they, for
the most part, like madmen. If we conquer the drier
parts of Davies' poem, and bestow a little attention on
thoughts which were meant, not to gratify the indo-
lence, but to challenge the activity of the rnind, we
shall find in the entire essay fresh beauties at every
perusal : for in the happier parts we come to logical
truths so well illustrated by ingenious similes, that we
know not whether to call the thoughts more poetically
or philosophically just. The judgment and fancy are
reconciled, and the imagery of the poems seems to
start more vividly from the surrounding shades of ab-
straction."

The 'coldness' of 'cloth and metallic threads'
which the critic applies to the ' hard arguments ' of
Nosce Teipsum is a mere imagination. But besides, the
1 metallic threads ' are not for warmth but for splendour.
The lining of the ' splendidly curious ' garment is to
be looked for for warmth. Similarly the ' hard argu-

Ixxviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

merits' would have been unpoetical as unphilosophical
had they been ' warm ' with the warmth of the
' clothing ' in similes and fancies. The ' hardness * is
where it ought to be — in the thinking : but it is a hard-
ness like the bough that is green with leafage and radiant
with bloom and odorous with ' sweet scent ' and pliant
to every lightest touch of the breeze. The leaf and
bloom start from the ' hard ' bough rightly, fittingly
'hard' to its utmost twig. The alleged 'too much
labour ' is singularly uncharacteristic. As for the
' madness ' I can but exclaim — Oh for more of such
'fine lunacy' as in Donne is condemned! His and
compeers' ' madness ' is worth cart-loads of most men's
sanity.

In our own day Dr. George Macdonald has spoken
more wisely if still somewhat superficially of " Nosce
Teipsum " in his charming " England's Antiphon." Hav-
ing explained that by " Immortality of the Soul" is
intended " the spiritual nature of the soul, resulting in
continuity of existence," he proceeds : — " It [Nosce
Teipsum] is a wonderful instance of what can be done
for metaphysics in verse, and by means of imaginative
or poetic embodiment generally. Argumentation cannot
of course naturally belong to the region of poetry,
however well it may comport itself when there natural-

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxix.

ized ; and consequently, although there are most poetic
no less than profound passages in the treatise, a light
scruple arises whether its constituent matter can pro-
perly be called poetry. At all events, however, certain
of the more prosaic measures and stanzas lend themselves
readily, and with much favour, to some of the more
complex of logical necessities. And it must be remem-
bered that in human speech, as in the human mind,
there are no absolute divisions : power shades off into
feeling; and the driest logic may find the heroic
couplet render it good service." (pp. 105-6). The
' scruple ' must be ' light ' indeed that has to decide
whether the * reasoning ' of " Nosce Teipsum " be or
be not ' poetry.' It is astounding that at this time o' day
any should attempt to exclude the highest region of the
intellect and its noblest occupation from poetry.
Poetry I must hold absolutely is poetry, whatever be
its matter and form if the thinking be glorified by
imagination or tremulous with emotion. It is sheer
folly to refuse to the Poet any material within the com-
pass of the universe. Especially deplorable is it
to have to argue for possibilities of poetry in the
greatest of all thinking, viz., metaphysics, in the face of
such actualities of achievement as in Davies and Lord
Brooke and Donne.

Ixxx. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

A second characteristic of " Nosce Teipsum " that
calls for notice is its perfection of workmanship shown in
the mastery of an extremely difficult stanza, as well as its
solidity of material. Here unquestionably Sir John
Davies far excels Lord Brooke and Donne, and later,
Sir William Davenant in "Gondibert." The two
former are occasionally (it must be granted) semi-inar-
ticulate, and the last is very often monotonous and try-
ing. "Nosce Teipsum " is throughout articulate and
unmistakeable, and never flags. You have a fear o'
times that a metaphor will prove grotesque or mean :
or a vein of thought pinch and go out from ore to
bare limestone. But invariably an imaginative touch,
or a colour-like epithet, or a thrill of emotion, lifts up
the mean into a transfiguring atmosphere as of sun-set
purples and crysolites, and gives to grotesquest gargoyles
(as of cathedrals) a strange fitness. Then when a
thought or illustration seems about to end, debasedly,
another forward-carrying and ennobling, swiftly suc-
ceeds.

There is more than dexterity, there is consummate
art — the art of a conscious master — in the inter-weaving
of the lines and stanzas of "Nosce Teipsum." Professor
Craik recognised the difficulty and the triumph, but
fails by ultra-ingenuity in accounting for either the

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxi.

selection of the measure or the miracle of its continu-
ous success. His criticism is worth recalling, thus : —

"A remarkable poem of this age is the ' Nosce

Teipsum ' of Sir John Davies a philosophical

poem, the earliest of the kind in the language. It is
written in rhyme, in the common heroic ten-syllable
verse, but disposed in quatrains, like the early play of
Misogonus, already mentioned, and other poetry of the
same era, or like Sir Thomas Overbury's poem of ' The
Wife,' the ' Gondibert ' of Sir William Davenant, and
the ' Annus Mirabilis ' of Dryden, at a later period. No
one of these writers has managed this difficult stanza
so successfully as Davies : it has the disadvantage of
requiring the sense to be in general closed at certain
regularly and quickly-recurring turns, which yet are
very ill adapted for an effective pause ; and even all
the skill of Dryden has been unable to free it from a
certain air of monotony and languor, — a circumstance
of which that poet may be supposed to have been him-
self sensible, since he wholly abandoned it after one or
two early attempts. Davies, however, has conquered
its difficulty ; and, as has been observed, ' perhaps no
language can produce a poem, extending to so great a
length, of more condensation of thought, or in which

f

Ixxxii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

fewer languid verses will be found.' (Hallam, as be-
fore.) In fact, it is by this condensation and sententious
brevity, so carefully filed and elaborated, however, as to
involve no sacrifice of perspicuity or fulness of expres-
sion, that he has attained his end. Every quatrain is a
pointed expression of a separate thought, like one of
Rochefoucault's maxims ; each thought being, by great
skill and painstaking in the packing, made exactly to
fit and to fill the same case. It may be doubted, how-
ever, whether Davies would not have produced a still
better poem if he had chosen a measure which would
have allowed him greater freedom and real variety;
unless, indeed, his poetical talent was of a sort that
required the suggestive aid and guidance of such artifi-
cial restraints as he had to cope with in this j and what
would have been a bondage to a more fiery and teem-
ing imagination, was rather a support to his."5

Most of this must be read cum grano salis. Davies
elected his measure and stanza with evidently entire
spontaneity ; and it is an odd reversal of the simple
matter of fact to ascribe the ' artificial restraints '
chosen, to an absence ' of a fiery and teeming imagina-
tion,' when, as all observation demonstrates, the more

5 A Compendious History of English Literature, &c., Vol. I., p.
577, edn. 1866.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxiii.

fiery and fecund the imagination of a Poet, the more
exquisitely obedient is he to the subtlest and most in-
tricate movements of his measure — just as the bluest-
blooded race-horse is a law to itself whereas your
stolid dray-cart or plough-drawer needs the " artificial
restraints " of all kinds of gear, and the constraint of
whip and blow and vociferation. I can well suppose
that but for the "Fairy Queen " Sir John Davies might
have chosen its stanza, but just as to-day " In Memo-
riam " has taken to itself its form and music to the ex-
clusion of every other — though a very ancient English
measure — so Spenser's immortal poem precluded
" Nosce Teipsum " following in the same. I cannot
admit " artificial restraints " in the sense of needed
restraints or aid. There was the stanza, and the genius
of Sir John Davies appropriated it — since Spenser's,
in all worship, could not be taken— and, like a great
Vine, clad its natural slenderness and poorness of build
with wealth of bright green leafage and clustered fruit-
age. The nicety and daintiness of workmanship, the
involute and nevertheless firmly-completed and mani-
fested imagery of " Nosce Teipsum" wherewith this
nicety and daintiness are wrought, place Sir John
Davies artistically among the finest of our Poets.
Soufhey wrote decisively on this : — '"Sir John Davies and

Ixxxiv. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Sir William Davenant, avoiding equally the opposite
faults of too artificial and too careless a style, wrote in
numbers which, for precision and clearness, and felicity
and strength, have never been surpassed." For 'felicity'
I should have said ' flexibility.' 6

Again our examples of the mastery and perfection of
workmanship must be brief; but take these : —

" Nor can her wide imbracements filled bee;

For they that most, and greatest things embrace,

Inlarge thereby their minds' capacitie,

As streames inlarg'd, inlarge the channel's space.

All things receiu'd, doe such proportion take,

As those things haue, ivherein they are receiu'd :

So little glasses little faces make,

And narrow webs on narrow frames be weau'd ;

Then what vast body must we make the mind

Wherin are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, and lands ;
And yet each thing a proper place doth find,
And each thing in the true proportion stands ?

6 To Southey's praise be it remembered, that he was the first
emphatically to regret that there had been no collective edition
of Sir John Davies's Works, as thus : " It may be regretted that
he did not leave representatives who would have thought it a duty
and an honour to publish all that could be collected of his writings ;
thus erecting the best and most enduring monument to his
memory." (British Poets : Chaucer to Jonson : p. 686). Our
edition of his Prose and Verse fulfils Southey's wish.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxv.

Doubtlesse this could not bee, but that she turnes
Bodies to spirits, by sublimation strange ;
As fire conuerts to fire the things it burnes
As we our meats into our nature change.

From their grosse matter she abstracts the formes,
And draws a kind of quintessence from things ;
Which to her proper nature she transformes,
To bear them light on her celestiall wings :

This doth she, when, from things particular ,
She doth abstract the universall kinds ;
Which bodilesse and immateriall are,
And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds :

And thus from diuers accidents and acts,
Which doe within her obseruation fall,
She goddesses, and powers diuine, abstracts :
As Nature, Fortune, and the Vertues all."

(pp. 42-440
Again : —

Are they not sencelesse then, that thinke the Soule
Nought but a fine perfection of the Sense;
Or of the formes which fancie doth enroule,
A quicke resulting, and a consequence ?

What is it then that doth the Sense accuse*
Both of false judgements, and fond appetites ?
What makes vs do what Sense doth most refuse £
Which oft in torment of the Sense delights J

Ixxxvl. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Sense thinkes i\\Q planets, spheares not much asunder;
What tels vs then their distance is so farre ?
Sense thinks the lightning borne before the thunder ;
What tels vs then they both together are ?

When men seem crows far off vpon a towre,

Sense saith, th'are crows; what makes vs think them men ?
When we in agues, thinke all sweete things sowre,
What makes vs know our tongue's false iudgement then ?

What power was that, whereby Medea saw,

And well approu'd, and prais'd the better course,
When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw
Her feeble powers, as she pursu'd the worse ?

Did Sense perswade Vlisses not to heare
The mermaid's songs, which so his men did please ;
As they were all perswaded, through the eare
To quit the ship, and leape into the seas ?

Could any power of Sense the Romane moue,
To burn his own right hand with courage stout ?
Cbuld Sense make Marius sit vnbound, and proue
The cruell lancing of the knotty gout ?

Doubtlesse in Man there is a nature found,
Beside the Senses, and aboue them farre ;
' Though most men being in sensuall pleasures drownd,
' It seems their Soules but in their Senses are.

If we had nought but Sense, then onely they
Should haue sound minds, which haue their Senses sound;

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxvii

But Wisdome growes, when Senses doe decay,
And Folly most in quickest Sense is found.

If we had nought but Sense, each liuing wight,

Which we call brute, would be more sharp then we ;
As hauing Sense's apprehensiue might,
In a more cleere, and excellent degree.

But they doe want that quicke discoursing poiver,
Which doth in vs the erring Sense correct ;
Therefore the bee did sucke the painted flower,
And birds, of grapes, the cunning shadow, peckt.

Sense outsides knows ; the Soule throgh al things sees ;
Sense, circumstance ; she, doth the substance view ;
Sense sees the barke, but she, the life of trees ;
Sense heares the sounds, but she, the concords true.

(PP- 35-38.)
Once more : —

I know my bodie's of so fraile a kind,
As force without, feauers within can kill ;
I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will :

I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all ;
I know I am one of Nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall,

I know my life's a paine and but a span,
I know my Sense is mockt with euery thing :
And to conclude, I know my selfe a MAN,
Which is a proud, and yet a 'wretched thing, (p. 24.)

Ixxxviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

If the pathos and grandeur of Pascal be anticipated in
these lines, Pope has certainly appropriated Davies'
favourite metaphor of the ' spider/ Witness the Sense
of Feeling illustrated : —

Much like a subtill spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide ;
If ought doe touch the vtmost thred of it,
Shee feeles it instantly on euery side. (p. 70).

So in the Essay of Man : —

" The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine,

Feels at each thread, and lives along the line."

Another now familiar 'metaphor' also occurs in " Nosce
Teipsum " :—

" Heere Sense' 's apprehension, end doth take;
As when a stone is into water cast,
One circle doth another circle make,
Till the last circle touch the banke at last." (p. 72.)

These two characteristics, viz., (i) deep and original
thinking, (2) perfection of workmanship , or mastery of an
extremely difficult stanza — embrace that in " Nosce
Teipsum," regarded broadly, which I am anxious to
have 'the Reader recognize and * prove' for himself.
Subsidiary to them is one other thing — not shared with
many of our Poets and therefore demanding specific

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. Ixxxix.

statement — viz. its condensation throughout. Hallam
and Craik have called attention to this ; and the student
cannot fail to be struck with it. It is not simply that
the stanzas are as so many rings of gold each complete
in itself — much as Proverbs are — but that whether
it be idea or opinion or metaphor there is no beating
of it out, as though yards of gold-leaf or tin-foil were
more valuable than the relatively small solid ore that has
been so manipulated : or the common mistake of
imagining that a pound of feathers is heavier than a
pound of lead. From Dean Donne until now " com-
parisons are odious." Nevertheless when one recalls
the attenuated thought and the blatant verbiage of not
a few of our Poets, this resolute sifting out of everything
extraneous is not less noticeable than commendable.
It assures us that the Poet was conscious of his re-
sources— of his unused wealth of thought and imagina-
tion and fancies. He who compacts his carbon into a
Koh-i-noor has infinite supplies of it. Similarly a Poet
who could and did so lavishly add great thought to
great thought and vivid metaphor to vivid metaphor,
and still go on adding in smallest possible compass,
declares his intellect to be of the highest. I take two
stanzas as illustrative equally of condensed thought and
condensed metaphor concerning our First Parents : —

xc. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

When their reasons eye was sharpe and cleare,
And (as an eagle can behold the sunne)
Could haue approcht th' Eternall Light as neare,
As the intellectuall angels could haue done :

Euen then to them the Spirit of Lyes suggests

That they were blind, because they saw not ill ;
And breathes into their incorrupted brests
A curious 'wish, which did corrupt their 'will.

Your Rhetorician-poet would have expatiated on his
1 Eagle ' through a hundred lines. Your mere Meta-
physician would have entangled himself with distinctions
between ' wish ' and ' will ' endlessly. Similarly how
succinctly memorable is this of man's un-willinghood
to know himself — every stanza a perfect circle but all
the circles interlinked : —

We study Speech but others we perswade ;

We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it ;
We interpret laives, which other men haue made,
But reade not those which in our hearts are writ.

Is it because the minde is like the eye,
Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees —
Whose rayes reflect not, but spread outwardly :
Not seeing it selfe when other things it sees ?

No, doubtlesse; for the mind can backward cast
Vpon her selfe, her vnderstanding light ;
But she is so corrupt, and so defac't,
As her owne image doth her selfe affright.

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. xci.

As in the fable of the Lady faire,

Which for her lust was turnd into a cow ;
When thirstie to a streame she did repaire,
And saw her selfe transform'd she wist not how :

At first she startles, then she stands amaz'd,
At last with terror she from thence doth flye ;
And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gaz'd,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die :

Euen so Man's Soule which did God's image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure ;
Since with her smnes her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure :

For euen at first reflection she espies,
Such strange chimeraes, and such monsters there ;
Such toyes, such antikes, and such vanities,
As she retires, and shrinkes for shame and feare.

And as the man loues least at home to bee,

That hath a sluttish house haunted with spirits ;

So she impatient her owne faults to see,

Turnes from her selfe and in strange things delites.

For this few knoiv themselves : for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent and paine;
And seas are troubled, when they doe reuoke
Their flowing waues into themselues againe.

(pp. 20-22.)

How daintily-put and how divinely ennobled by the

xcii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

sacred reference is this of the soul's yearning after that
higher ideal that is ever receding horizon-like to our
vision : —

Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,

Which seeme sweet flowers, with lustre fresh and gay ;

She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all,

But pleasd with none, doth rise, and soare away ;

So, when the Soule finds here no true content,
And, like Noah's doue, can no sure footing take ;
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flies to Him that first her wings did make. (p. 87)

For condensed and close-packed thought and imagery
the * Reasons ' for the * Immortalitie of the Soule '
(pp. 83 — 99) are not to be equalled anywhere.

We may not linger over " Nosce Teipsum." Passing
to the " Hymnes to Astraea " and " Orchestra, or a
Poeme of Dauncing " while they have the same charac-
teristics with " Nosce Teipsum," they yet suggest
another characteristic in Davies as a Poet — unexpect-
edness of brilliant and great things. You count on the
Lark's up-springing and the Lark's idyllic song, if you
are traversing its bladed or daisied possession; but you
are startled if it rise from the mired or dusty street or the
inodorous slum. You look for the eagle when you
have climbed Shehallion and other Highland mountain

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

fastnesses ; but suppose it were to flap out upon you as
you paced into your semi-suburban villa. So in
" Nosce Teipsum," as seen, deep thought perfectly
worked is what knowing the Poet you look for therein ;
but even in " Hymnes to Astrsea " and " Orchestra " you
very soon discover that it is still the Poet of " Nosce
Teipsum " who sings. The moods of thought are
airier and more vivacious substantively, but the
thinking and shaping and colouring of imagination is
the same ; and ' unexpected ' is really the word that
seems to me to express the out-flashing of the higher
faculty. Turning to the " Hymnes to Astrsea," how
exquisite are the fancy and the flattery of Hymne V.,
" To the Larke," as she is wooed by the Poet-Courtier to
be his minstrel to ' sing ' of Elizabeth. You do not for
a moment feel the ' artificial restraint ' of the margin-
letters that go to form Elizabetha Regina : —

Earley, cheerfull, mounting Larke,
Light's gentle vsher, Morning's dark,
In merry notes delighting ;
Stint awhile thy song, and harke,
And learn my new inditing.

Beare vp this hymne, to heau'n it beare,
Euen vp to heau'n, and sing it there,
To heau'n each morning beare it ;
Haue it set to some sweet sphere,
And let the Angels heare it.

xciv. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

Renownd Astraea, that great name,

Exceeding great in worth and fame,

Great worth hath so renownd it j

It is Astraea' s name I praise,

Now then, sweet Larke, do thou it raise,

And in high Heauen resound it. (p. 133.)

Meet companion to this is Hymne VII., " To the
Rose : "—

Eye of the Garden, Queene of flowres,
Love's cup wherein he nectar powres,
Ingendered first of nectar;

Sweet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres,
And Beautie's faire character.

Best iewell that the Earth doth weare,

Euen when the braue young sunne draws neare,

To her hot Loue pretending ;

Himselfe likewise like forme doth beare,

At rising and descending.

Rose of the Queene of Loue belou'd ;

England's great Kings diuinely mou'd,

Gave Roses in their banner ;

It shewed that Beautie's Rose indeed,

Now in this age should them succeed,

And raigne in more sweet manner. (p. 135,)

That the large and intense homage of Davies (among
his illustrious contemporaries), in these "Hymnes" was
genuine not simulated, spontaneous not mercenary,

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xcv.

the apostrophe to Envy protests. With an echo
of the old ' exegi monumentum ' or reminiscence of
Shakespeare's then not long published Sonnets, he thus
writes : —

Enuy, goe weepe ; my Muse and I
Laugh thee to scorne ; thy feeble eye
Is dazeled with the glory
Shining in this gay poesie,
And little golden story.

Behold how my proud quill doth shed

Eternall nectar on her head ;

The pompe of coronation

Hath not such power her fame to spread,

As this my admiration.

Respect my pen as free and franke

Expecting not reward nor thanke,

Great wonder onely moues it ;

I never made it mercenary,

Nor should my Muse this burthen carrie

As hyr'd, but that she loues it. (p. 154.)

Then in " Orchestra " you are again and again re-
minded that, ^mgre. sport o£ wit ,lJiQUfik>Jt Jbe^"sud-
daine, rash, half-capreol of my wit," as he himself calls
it to Martin (p. 159), it is a man of rare genius who
sports. So much so that ever and anon you perceive,
as Cleopatra of her Anthony :

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

" his delights

Were dolphin-like ; they shcnv'd his back above
The element they lived in" (v. 2.)

That is, even among the trivialities about ' Dauncing '
and the frivolities of laudation, you are re-called to
grander things — as in the Summer one sees breaks of
blue in the over-arching sky above some miserable
Pick-nick party desecrating some glorious forest-dell. I
cull two out of manifold examples of the unexpectedness
that I now wish to point out — as thus of the antiquity
yet vitality of ' Dauncing ' : —

" Thus doth it equall age with age inioy,
And yet in lustie youth for euer flowers ;
Like loue his sire, whom Paynters make a boy,
Yet is the eldest of the heau'nly powers ;
Or like his brother Time, whose winged howers
Going and comming will not let him dye,
But still preserve him in his infancie." (p. 169.)

That is ' brilliant ' but this is ' great,' indeed magnifi-
cent, of the Sea : —

" Loe the Sea that fleets about the Land,
And like a girdle clips her solide waist,
Musicke and measure both doth vnderstand ;
For his great chrystall eye is always cast
Vp to the Moone, and on her fixed fast ;
And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere,
So daunceth he about her Center heere." (p. 179.)

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

I know not where, outside of Milton, to match that
personification of the Sea, with its "great chrystall
eye "; and ' palid ' is as tenderly delicate as the other is
grand. Coleridge must have carried it in his omniverous
memory, for surely one of the most memorable of the
stanzas in his " Ancient Mariner " drew its inspiration
thence, as thus : —

" Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast ;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast —
If he may know which way to go ;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see ! how graciously
She looketh down on him." (Pt. VI.)

At this point it may interest some to read Sir John
Harington's welcome to the Poet on the publication
of ' Orchestra ', thus : —

Of Master John Dauies Booke of Dancing.
To Himself e.

While you the Planets all doe set to dancing,
Beware such hap, as to the Fryer was chancing :
Who preaching in a Pulpit old and rotten,
Among some notes, most fit to be forgotten :
Vnto his Auditory thus he vaunts,
To make all Saints after his pype to dance :

g

xcvlii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

It speaking, which as he himselfe aduances,
To act his speech with gestures, lo, it chances,
Downe fals the Pulpit, sore the man is brused,
Neuer was Fryer and Pulpit more abused.
Then beare with me, though yet to you a stranger,
To warne you of the like, nay greater danger.
For though none feare the falling of those sparkes,
(And when they fall, t'will be good catching Larkes)
Yet this may fall, that while you dance and skip,
With female Planets, sore your foote may trip,
That in your lofty Caprioll and turne
Their motion may make your dimension burne."
(Epigrams, Book II. 67.)

I am tempted to further critical examination of this
very remarkable Poetry ; but feel constrained by already
transgressed limits to withhold them for the present.
But I must say something on the Epigrams and Minor
Poems. I have l compunctious visitings ' in re-pub-
lishing them, even though they have been included by
Dyce and by Colonel Cunningham in their successive
editions of Marlowe. In my Note (Vol. II., pp. 3-6),
I give bibliographical and other details concerning these
Epigrams; and I correct a mis-assignation of certain
by Dyce to Davies that belong to Henry Hutton. It
must be conceded that the Epigrams have dashes of
the roughness, even coarseness, of the age. They self-
revealingly belong to the wild-oats sowing of the Poet's

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. xcix.

youthful period. Nevertheless, I have ventured their
reproduction in integrity for four reasons : —

(a) These Epigrams, from their subjects and style, are
valuable, as expressing the tone of society at the
time.

(b) It would be suppressio veri to withhold them, to-
ward an accurate estimate of their Author. They
furnish elements of judgment.

(c) They were what gained the Poet ' a name ' : even
when tartly spoken of by Guilpin he is called the
' English Martial ' from them.

(d) These Epigrams belong to a section of our early
Literature that contemporaneously was abundant;
and it were advantageous if characteristics of
particular periods were more recognised in literary
criticism.

Besides Guilpin, a very rare volume of early Verse
by Ashmore, furnishes a hitherto overlooked Epigram,
wherein "Nosce Teipsum" and the Epigrams, are
noticed with well-put praise. I am fortunate enough
to be able to give it, which I do in its English form
only, the Latin being poor and inaccurate. It is in-
scribed " Ad D. lo. Davies, Milite ludicem Itinerium "
and thus runs : —

c. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

" If Plato lived and saw those heaven-breathed Lines
Where thou the Essence of the Soule confines ;
Or merry Martiale read thy Epigrammes,
Where sportingly, these looser times thou blames :
Though both excel, yet (in their severall wayes)
They both ore-come, would yeeld to thee the Prise."7

His name-sake, John Davies of Hereford similarly
saluted him. His ' Lines' with others, will appear more
fitly in the fuller 'Life.' Meanwhile, as carrying within
it, perhaps the most memorable circumstance apper-
taining to these ' Epigrams,' I must ask attention here,
to one of Wordsworth's finest minor poems — his

7 Ashmore (J). Certain Selected Odes of Horace Englished,
with Poems of divers Subiects translated. Whereunto are added,
both in Latin and English, sundry new Epigrammes, Anagrammes,
Epitaphes. 1621 sm. 40. As this Volume is seldom to be met
with, I take the opportunity of adding here the Anagram to Bacon,
which does not appear to have been known to his Editors or Bio-
graphers.

To the Right Honourable, Sir Francis Bacone, Knight, Lord
High Chancelor of England.

Thy Vertuous Name and Office, joyne with Fate,
To make thee the bright Beacon of the State.

I just observe, as my book passes through the Press, that
ANTHONY A- WOOD quotes (probably) above, without naming the
author.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

"POWER OF MUSIC.

An Orpheus ! an Orpheus ! yes, Faith may grow bold,
And take to herself all the wonders of old ; —
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same,
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.

His station is there ; and he works on the crowd,
He sways them with harmony merry and loud :
He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim —
Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him ?

What an eager assembly ! what an empire is this !
The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss ;
The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest ;
And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest.

As the Moon brightens round her the clouds of the night,
So He, where he stands, is a centre of light ;
It gleams on the face, there, of the dusky-browed Jack,
And the pale-visaged Baker's, with basket on back.

That errand-bound 'Prentice was passing in haste —
What matter ! he's caught — and his time runs to waste ;
The Newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret ;
And the half-breathless Lamp-lighter — he's in the net !

The Porter sits down on the weight which he bore ;
The Lass with her barrow wheels hither her store ; —
If a thief could be here he might pilfer at ease ;
She sees the Musician, 'tis all that she sees !

He stands, backed by the wall ; he abates not his din ;
His hat gives him vigour,, with boons dropping in*

cii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

From the old and the young, from the poorest ; and there !
The one-pennied Boy has his penny to spare.

0 blest are the hearers, and proud be the hand

Of the pleasure it spreads through so thankful a band ;

1 am glad for him, blind as he is ! — all the while

If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile.

That tall Man, a giant in bulk and in height,
Not an inch of his body is free from delight ;
Can he keep himself still, if he would ? oh, not he !
The music stirs in him like wind through a tree.

Mark that Cripple who leans on his crutch ; like a tower
That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour ! —
That Mother, whose spirit in fetters is bound,
While she dandles the Babe in her arms to the sound.

Now, coaches and chariots ! roar on like a stream ;
Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream :
They are deaf to your murmurs — they care not for you,
Nor what ye are flying, nor what ye pursue !

What is this but a glorified version of a portion of
Epigram 38 ? Here it is : —

" As doth the Ballad-singer's auditory,

Which hath at Temple-barre his standing chose,

And to the vulgar sings an Ale-house story :

First stands a Porter : then, an Oyster-wife

Doth stint her cry, and stay her steps to heare him ;

Then comes a Cut-purse ready with a knife,

And then a Countrey-clyent passeth neare him ;

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

There stands the Constable, there stands the whore.
And, listening to the Song, heed not each other ;
There by the Serjeant stands the debitor,
And doth no more mistrust him than his brother :
Thus Orpheus to such hearers giveth musick
And Philo to such patients giveth physic."

Any charge of plagiarism were an outrage on Genius :
but the coincidence is remarkable. It is just possible
that the later Poet may have found the ' Epigrams ' in his
bookish friend SOUTHEY'S library, and that the rough
lines lingered semi-unconsciously in his memory. The
earlier is to the later, as a photograph of the actual
coarse street-group to the idealizations of the Artist :
nevertheless it has its own interest and value, neither
are the Characters ill-chosen, nor without humour.

But on the other hand Davies, in his 47th Epigram,
was no doubt influenced by a remembrance of Sidney's
3oth Stella sonnet. The likeness as to the countries
mentioned is remarkable.8

One flagrant appropriater of Davies' Epigrams must
be nailed-up, in the person of William Winstanley in
his " The Muses Cabinet stored with variety of Poems,
both pleasant and profitable. London 1655." Thus
we read "On Rembombo" : —

8 See my edition of Sidney, Vol. I.

civ. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

" Rembombo having spent all his estate
Went to the wars to prove more fortunate.
Being return'd, he speaks such warlike words,
No dictionary half the like affords :
He talks of flankers, gabions and scalados,
Of curtneys, parapets & palizados,
Retreats & triumphs & of carnisadoes,
Of sallies, halfe moones & of ambuscadoes :
I to requite the fustian termes he uses,
Reply with words belonging to the Muses ;
As Spondes, Dactiles & Hexameters,
Stops, commas, accents, types, tropes, & pentameters,
Madrigalls, Epicediums, elegies,
Satyres, lambicks, & Apostrophes,
Acrosticks, Aquiuoques, & epigrams :
Thus talking and being understood by neither,
We part wise as when we came together." (p. 43)

Let the Reader compare this with Davies' Epigram
(Vol. II., p. 23-4). Various others are similarly trans-
mogrified ; and John Heath also is ' spoiled ' (in a
double sense). Yet has Winstanley the impudence to
close his volume bitingly thus : —

" Cease Muse, here comes a criticke, close thy page,
These lines are not strong enough for this age ;
The nice new-fangled readers of these times
Will scarcely relish thy plain country rimes."

The Minor Poems, not hitherto collected, will re-
ward critical perusal. Some of them are noticeable :

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

quaint fancies, glances of wit and wisdom, felicitous
epithet, racy similes, aphoristic sayings, bird-like notes
of genuine music, and now and then, powerful sarcasm,
will meet the studious reader. The HITHERTO UN-
PUBLISHED MSS., which include, besides secular poems,
his long vainly-sought Metaphrase of certain Psalms,
speak for themselves. And so I leave the Reader to
raise the lid of the casket of gems now put into his
hands. It demands robustness of brain and sensibili-
ties of spirit to appreciate adequately Sir John Davies
as a Poet \ but if, in all humility of receptiveness and
open-eyedness, these volumes be read, no one compe-
tent can go away unimpressed. Whether as Thinker
or Singer he must be placed among the rare few who
have enriched our highest Literature.

ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

cvi. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

POSTSCRIPT.

MINOR POEMS, ETC.

HPHERE are several things relative to the Minor Poems
of Sir John Davies that require statement and eluci-
dation ; and I deem it well to give such.

I. The Ten Sonnets to Philomel and Hymn to

Music.

II. The Entertainment to Elizabeth at Harefield by
the Countess of Derby.

III. The Poem to King James 1st.

IV. Dacus not Samuel Daniel.

V. Marston and " Orchestra," &c.

VI. Hymnes to Astraea.

/. The Ten Sonnets to Philomel and Hymn to Music.
In my Fuller Worthies' Library edition of Davies, I ad-
mitted " Canzonet : a Hymne in praise of Musick "
among his Poems (pp. 297-9) because in the " Rhap-
sody " it bore his initials I. D. precisely as his other
accepted pieces therein did. But I excluded the 'Ten
Sonnets to Philomel ' from their having the signature
originally of " Melophilus," and I. D. only subsequently.
I too hastily agreed with Sir Egerton Brydges (in his
edition of the "Rhapsody" 2 Vols., 1826) in assigning

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cvii.

them to Dean Donne. I could not discern Donne's
manner in the ' Canzonet,' and so had no difficulty in
rejecting Brydges' alleged ' internal evidence ' in respect
of it, initialled as it was. Neither did I find the ' inter-
nal evidence' in the 'Ten Sonnets' for its Donne
authorship, but, in addition to the early signature
" Melophilus," there was a note of "Manuscripts to get"
by Davison, from Donne, that has seemed to warrant the
" Ten Sonnets " being regarded as his contribution, and
the later I. D. as representing J[ohn] D[onne], and not
Sir John Davies. My friend Dr. Brinsley Nicholson has
satisfied me that Davison's List of MSS. to be received
could not refer to his " Rhapsody," but to some other
intended work or private collection ; and so the one
point in favour of Donne falls to the ground. The
evidence as communicated to myself, and since, in a
lengthy communication to the Athenceum (January 22d,
1876), may be thus summarized, (i) There is nothing
in Davison's notings which even hints that he was
thinking of the " Rhapsody." (2) The greater number
of the MSS. mentioned never appeared even by a speci-
men in the " Rhapsody.3' (3) The second entry is of

" Sports, Masks, and Entertainments to ye •$ [j^I^in ^ &
Therefore it was written in or after 1603. But the

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

first edition of the "Rhapsody" containing the "Hymn
to Music " signed I. D., and the " Ten Sonnets " signed
" Melophilus," and in the subsequent editions I. D.,
was published in 1602, (4) There is not in the subse-
quent editions a single piece by any of these memoran-
dum-noted authors that is not in the first — so shewing
further that the memorandum had no reference to the
" Rhapsody." Of Donne and Constable there are in
the editions 1608, 1611, 1621, only those given in
1602, and in no edition at all is there a single specimen
of Ben Jonson, Hodgson, Harington, Joseph Hall,
&c., &c. There remains thus only (5). The I. D.
evidence, e.g. :

1602. 1608. 1611. 1621.

Hymn I. D. I. D. I. D. Unsigned.

Sonnets Melophilus. I. D. I. D. I. D.

12 Wonders \ Not John Dauis Sir John Dauis Sir John Davies

in I. D. I. D. Sir I. D.

Ij0ttery ist John Dauis Sir John Unsigned.

Contention / edn. Dauis.

Absence hear this my protestation. Unsigned in all four editions.

That two are unsigned in the 1621 edition is
probably due to omission made during the thorough
re-distribution of the pieces into books of Odes,
&c., &c. Further (6) the "Hymn to Music" and
the "Ten Sonnets" follow consecutively, and are
the very first among the " pieces by sundry others."
So in editions of 1608 and 1611 the "Twelve Won-
ders," "Lottery," and "Contention" are the first of

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cix.

the new pieces, in fact, open the book and follow one
another successively in a group of three — John Dauis —
I. D. — John Davies. (7) We gather from inspection
of the " Table " that (a) the " Lottery," I. D., is John
Davies ; (b) that Davison put I. D. after the "Lottery,"
knowing that he had already appropriated I. D. to the
author of the " Hymne j " and what is more, he chose
to put I. D. to the " Lottery " just when he associated
the " Ten Sonnets " with I. D. and John Davies' poems
by altering Melophilus to I. D. ; (<r) at the same time
he left " Absence hear," &c., unsigned ; (d] what has
been said under (5) and (6) suggests that Davies was a
personal friend of Davison's, and this is strengthened
by there being no MS. of Davies noted as " to get."
If so, Davison was still less likely to use ambiguous
initials for anything by Davies. Once more (8) When
we add to this that the " Hymne " must go with the
" Ten Sonnets " and that it is clearly by the author of
" Orchestra "; and that neither the " Hymne " nor the
" Ten Sonnets " appear in any collection of Donne's
poems printed or in MS. the external evidence in favour
of Sir John Davies as author of the work is as strong as
it well can be. Internally the student of " Orchestra"
and the " Hymnes to Astraea " will readily see the " fine
Roman hand" that wrote them in the "Hymne to

ex. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Music " and related " Ten Sonnets to Philomel."
There is none of the style, or conceits, or wording, or
rhythm of Donne. I add finally (9) If the "Ten
Sonnets to Philomel " were based on real love expe-
riences, we can understand how at first at any rate the
disguise of " Melophilus " might be preferred to I. D.
It does not seem probable that they were addressed to
her who became his wife. In accord with all this both
the " Hymne to Music " and the " Ten Sonnets to
Philomel " are now included among Sir John Davies's
Poems (Vol. ii. pp. 96 — 106.

II. The Entertainment to Elizabeth at Harefield by
the Countess of Derby. In the foot-notes to the " Lot-
tery," (Vol. II., pp. 87-94) several variations from
Manningham's " Diary " are accepted as decided im-
provements, especially those in vn., xix., and xxi.,
which were probably taken from a revised or autograph
MS. That Manningham had full information on the
" Lottery " is proved by the list he gives of the persons
to whom the 'lots' went, viz., i., To hir Mtie. in.
La[dy] Scroope. xxvu. La[dy] Scudamore. vi. Lady
Francis, vu. Earle of Darby's countes. vm. Lady
Southwell, ii. Countess of Darby dowager : [the Lord
Keeper's wife], xu. Countess of Kildare. xm. La[dy]
Effingham. xix. La[dy] Newton, xxi. Not named.

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxi.

xxii. La[dy] Warwike. xxv. La[dy] Dorothy, xxxin.

La[dy] Susan xxxn. La[dy] Kidderminster, xxxi.

Blank. But there remains an interesting question to
be settled, viz., the date of this " Lottery." Nichols,
apparently on the sole authority of the " Rhapsody,"
gives it to a visit to the Lord Keeper's town-house
[York House] in 1601 ; and assigns it to York House
because Sir Thomas Egerton did not buy Harefield till
1602, and clearly by the speeches in the " Entertain-
ment " the Queen had never been there before August,
1602. But the " Rhapsody" date is a slip of Davison's
pen or of his printer for 1602. and the "Lottery" took
place at Harefield as part of the " Entertainment."
Notices in the " Lottery " itself guide us to this conclu-
sion, e.g., it was about August, for in Lot 22 we read: —

" 'Tis Summer yet,

But 'twill be winter one day, doubt you not."

and the visit to Harefield was in August. Then there
is this to be noted that the masquer is "A Mariner

supposed to come from the Carrick." Let

* the ' be marked ' the Carrick.' The allusion is histori-
cal. The Queen sent out Sir Richard Le^ison (or Law-
son) and Sir William Morrison on iQth and 26th March,
1602 to intercept the plate fleet and do any other
damage along the Spanish coast. They did not get the

cxii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Fleet and were wholly unsuccessful till ist June, when
they came upon an immense ' carrick ' from the East
Indies of 1,600 tons flanked on one side by a castle
and on the other by eleven Spanish and Portugese
galleys. On the 2nd the admirals with five men of
war and two merchantmen Easterlings, beat the gallies
and silenced the castle, and on the 3rd the carrick sur-
rendered with a cargo estimated by the Portugese at a
million of ducats. Our killed in this brilliant exploit
was six seamen (see Camden's Annals and Monson's
Naval Tracts). This proves that the Verses were vers
dy occasion. We have ' the carrick ' and Cynthia who sent
forth Fortune to the sea, and many a "jewel and a
gem" brought, and Fortune so commanded

" as makes me now to sing

There is no fishing to the sea, no service to the King."

Further, the Queen writing to Lord Mountjoy (Deputy

to Ireland) i5th July 1602 says " first to assure

you that we have sent a fleet to the coast of Spain, not-
withstanding our former fleet returned with the Carrick,"
which shows two things ( i ) That Lawson and Monson
had returned prior to the i5th of July (2) that the
Queen had sent out another fleet at once ; and thus
Davies' verses were the more appropriate as being not

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxiii.

only a remembrance of good luck but an anticipation
of continued good fortune.

These proofs of date which require no confirmation
are confirmed by this, that Manningham after the
" Lottery," and on the same leaf, gives a " dialogue
betweene the bayly and a dairy mayd " before " her
Mtis coming to the house," quoting a sentence from it
as found in the " Entertainment" This leads me to
state why I have given the entire " Entertainment " to
Sir John Davies. It certainly is contrary to natural
expectation that the " Lottery " verses are not intro-
duced into the "Entertainment," and but for other con-
siderations the inference might have been that only the
" Lottery" was by Davies, and the rest by some other.
But there is this explanation of the absence of the
" Lottery " verses, that evidently they formed part of
the amusement of one of the rainy days — for it was a
wet Sfc. Swithin — when the speeches and other things
of the " Entertainment " took place without doors, and
distinct from the " Lottery." Then on reading the
" Entertainment " itself, there are manifold marks that
the whole came from one pen, and that pen Davies's ;
for throughout there is likeness of style and thought to
his avowed writings. Take these few examples : (i) " If

h

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

thou knewest the cause, thou wouldst not wonder ; for
I stay to entertaine the Wonder of this time," &c.
("Entertainment," &c., Vol. II., pp, 249-50.) Cf.
this with " Orchestra" st. 120, " wonder of posteritie"
(i.e., of her own time) : (2) " The Guest that wee are to
entertaine doth fill all places with her divine vertues,
as the Sunne fills the World with the light of his
beames," (find, p. 250). Cf. Hymnes to Astaea, XIV.,
stanza 2 : —

" Behold her in her vertues' beames,
Extending sun -like to all realmes."

Again, XV., st. i : —

" Eye of that mind most quicke and eleere,—
Like Heaven's eye, which from his spheare
Into all things prieth j
Sees through all things euery where,
And all their natures trieth."

(3) " Though her selfe shall eclipse her soe much, as to
suffer her brightness to bee shadowed in this obscuere
and narrow Place, yet the sunne beames that follow
her, the traine I meane that attends vpon her, must,
by the necessitie of this Place, be deuided from her."
(Ibid, p. 251). Cf. XIX., st. i :—

" Eclipsed she is, and her bright rayes,
Lie under vailes, yet many wayes
Is her faire forme reuealed."

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. exv.

' Beams ' and * sunbeams ' are favourite words with
Davies : so too ' mirror/ (4) " Time weare very vngrate-
full, if it should not euer stand still, to serue and pre-
serue, cherish and delight her, that is the glory of her
time, and makes the Time happy wherein she liueth"
(Ibid?. 251). Cf. II. st. 3, 11. 1-3.

" Right glad am I that now I live :
Even in these days whereto you give
Great happiness and glory."

(5) " What if she make thee a contynewell holy-day,
she makes me [Place] a perpetuall sanctuary " (Ibid p.
251). Cf. IV., st. i :—

" Each day of time, sweet moneth of May,
Love makes a solemne holy-day."

(6) " Doth not the presence of a Prince make a Cottage a
Court, and the presence of the Gods make euery place
Heaven ?" (Ibid pp. 251-2). Cf. Dedication of
" Nosce Teipsum " :—

" Stay long (sweet spirit) ere thou to Heauen depart,
Which makest each place a heauen wherein thou art."

In the Verse (pp. 253-4) there are abundant parallels.
I must content myself with references. With the ist
stanza

" Beauties rose, and vertues booke, &c."

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

compare Hymnes to Astraea VIL, st. 3 : XVII., st. 2-3
and the " Contention " (ad. fin.) and XIII. st. 2 : XV.
st. 2. Also IV. last 2 lines : VII. st. 3. 11. 1-3 : X. last 4
lines. Similar results are found on a comparison of the
"Entertainment" with the "Dialogue between a
Gentleman Usher and a Poet" (Fuller Worthies'
Library edn. of Davies' Poems : pp. 15-21.)

I have accordingly given the whole "Entertain-
ment " as belonging to Sir John Davies. It is to be
regretted that the Satyrs Verses are unaccompanied by
the rest of the Masque to which apparently they be-
long. Harefield has the further light of glory on it
of having been the scene of Milton's " Arcades " and
of the famous elm-aisle celebrated by him in imper-
ishable verse. The Countess of Derby, afterwards
the Lord Keeper's third wife, was the early friend of
Spenser and of Milton, and of all her eminent literary
contemporaries.9

9 As for much more I am indebted to Dr, Brinsley Nicholson (as
before) for most of the details of the above statement. He has like-
wise favoured me with these additional illustrations of a refrain in the
introduction to the " Lottery." In the Queen's Entertainment at
Cawdray (Lord Montacute's), in 1591, an angler says, "Madame,
it is an olde saying, There is no fishing to the sea nor service to the
King : but it holdes when the sea is calme and the King vertuous "
(Nichols* Progresses). Greene also uses it in his James IV., when

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. cxvii.

III. "Yet other Twelve Wonders of the World." In
foot-note (Vol. II., p. 67) I promise an account of an
autograph MS. of this characteristic set of verses. It
finds more fitting place here than in the Preface. The
MS. is preserved at Downing College, Cambridge, and
having been described on p. 325 of the "Third Report
of the Historical MSS. Commissioners," Mr. Beedham,

the schemer who has gained by flattering the King, says (I. 2)
" Now may I say as many often sing,

No fishing to the sea nor service to a King."
See Note to the " Lottery," Vol. II., p. 88. It was surely an error of
judgment of the late Mr. John Bruce, in reproducing Manning-
ham's " Diary," to leave out the " Lottery," and related entries, on
the weak plea that the former had been printed in Shakespeare and
Percy Society publications. It may be here mentioned that Man-
ningham, in giving some of the " Lottery" verses, writes on a leaf
which is followed by one of the date of 1601 ; but as Mr. Collier
remarks, either the leaves of the Diary got misplaced, or else he
was in the habit of using up at after times leaves that he had left
blank. Further: Chamberlain, in a letter of October 2, 1602,
mentions the visit to the Lord Keeper's at Harefield as part of the
late " Progress." The original M.Sr of the Entertainment belonged
to Sir Roger Newdegate, but is now missing. Finally : I over-
looked to annotate in loco in the " Entertainment " itself, that as
the Dairy house was to the left while the " House " (of Harefield)
was to the right, the Dairymaid ridicules the idea of the Bailiff taking
such a party to what she calls a Pigeon house for its size, and
which was moreover at that moment in the carpenters' hands. In
effect the Queen had to be separated from at least the greater part
of her suite.

cxviii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

(as before) was kind enough to make a literatim trans-
cript for me (with the permission of the College authori-
ties). The MS. is headed "Verses giuen to the L.
Treasurer vpon Newyeares day vpon a dosen of Tren-
chers by Mr. Davis." In the margin against "The
Lawyer," in the same handwriting as the Verses, is this :
" This is misplaced, it should be before the physis11,"
and similarly against " The Country Gentleman," also
in the same handwriting, is : " This is misplaced, in the
original it is before the mr chant." There is nothing
to give any clue as to the precise New Year's day upon
which the Verses were furnished to the Lord Treasurer;
but unless I very much mistake, they were the " cob-
web " of his " inuention " enclosed in that letter which
Mr. J. Payne Collier supposed to have gone with a
gift-copy of " Nosce Teipsum." The letter speaks for
itself : —

" Mr. Hicks. I have sent you heer inclosed that cob*
web of my invention which I promised before Christmas :
I pray you present it, commend it, and grace it, as well for
your owne sake as mine : bycause by your nominacion I
was first put to this taske, for which I acknowledge my self
beholding to you in good earnest, though the imployment
be light and trifling, because I am glad of any occasion of
being made knowne to that noble gentl. whom I honore
and admire exceedingly. If ought be to be added, or

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

alter' d, lett me heare from you. I shall willingly attend to
doo it, the more speedily if it be before the terme. So in
haste I commend my best service to you. Chancery Lane,
20 Jan. 1600. Yours to do you service very willingly,
Jo. Davys." ( Bibl. Account, V. I., pp. 193-4; no specifi-
cation of source beyond S. P. O.)

The handwriting of the copy in Downing College
belongs to the close of the 1 6th or to the earliest years
of the i yth century. The second marginal note above
would seem to show that the transcript was made from
the original, then perhaps being circulated from hand
to hand. Specimens of variations may interest. In
"The Courtier," 1. i, for 'liu'd' the MS. reads 'serued':
1. 4, "from them that fall" for "such as fall ": 1. 5,
" my " for " a rich array" : in the " Divine," 1. i, " one
cure doth me contente " for " and I from God am sent" :

I. 3, " true kinde " for " kind true " : 1. 5, " Nor followe
princes' Courts " for " Much wealth I will not seeke " :
" The Souldier," 1. 6, " brag " for " boast " : " The
Physitian," 1. i, "prolonge" for " vphold " and "life"
for " state " : 1. 2, " I " for " me " (bis) : 1. 6, " time
& youth " for " youth and time" : " The Lawyer," 1. i,
" My practice is the law" for " the Law my calling is":

II. 5-6,

" Some say I haue good gifts, and love where I doe take
Yet never tooke I fee, but I advisd or spake,"

cxx. MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

for

" Nor counsell did bewray, nor of both parties take,
Nor euer tooke I fee for which I neuer spake."

" The Merchant " 1. 2, " vnknowne worlds king-
domes doth " for " unknowne coasts countries

to " : " The Married Man," 1. 4, "choise" for "chance":
"The Wife," 1. i, "my" for "our": 1. 2, "Thither

am I where firste " for " I thither am

from whence " : 1. 3,

" I goe not maskd abroad to visit, when I do
My secrets I bewray to none but one or two,"

for

" I doe not visite oft, nor many, when I doe,
I tell my mind to few, and that in counsell too."

"The Widowe" 1. i, " dyinge " is inserted here before
"husband": 1. 3, " love " for " haue " : 1. 6, " Nor
richer then I am, nor younger would I seeme " for
" Nor younger then I am, nor richer will I seeme " :
"The Maide," 1. 4, "of" for "on": 1. 5, "but "for
" yet" These embrace all save orthographical and
other slight variants. As derived from an authentic
autograph MS. the Downing College copy is interesting
and its variants serve further to illustrate the letter to
Hicks wherein Davies expresses his willingness to make

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION.

any changes — which alone might have led Mr. Collier
to see that he could not possibly refer to " Nosce
Teipsum," which was then published.

IV. Dacus not Samuel Daniel. Turning to Epi-
grams 30 and 45 (pp. 30, 45) the reader will find in
Dyce's note to the latter that he identified ' Dacus '
with Daniel, and the passage whereon he based the
identification. I passed his note though not at all
satisfied with the parallel of "dumb eloquence" to
the Epigram's " silent eloquence." Epigram 30 points
rather to a rhymster of the John Taylor Water-Poet
type, and if one had patience to make the search
"silent eloquence " should doubtless be found in one
or other of his many books — clumsily appropriated from
Sir Philip Sidney. Then the " dumb eloquence " of
the Complaint of Rosamond which Dyce quotes, was to
the King not " to his Mistress " — even if it were what
the Epigram hints " silent eloquence." En passant the
phrases and variants on it was one of the aped phrases
of the gallants and poetasters of the day. Jonson
who disliked Daniel, ridicules the stanza in a way that
informs us it was affected by them. Griffin in his
Fides sa also has it in his " dumb message of my hidden
grief." Further : Davies of Hereford in his " Scourge
of Folly " who must have known his namesake's use of

cxxii. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

Dacus calls him Dacus the pot-poet and speaks as
much against his character as our Davies does against
his rhymes — all of which was curiously inapplicable to
Samuel Daniel. At the time Davies of Hereford wrote
Daniel was a gentleman of the Queen's bed-chamber.
Lastly — and conclusively — Sir John Davies praises
three English poets in his "Orchestra" (Elizabethan
edn.) of whom one is Daniel : —

" O that I could old Gefferie's Muse awake
Or borrow Colin's fayre heroike stile,
Or smooth my rimes with Delia's servant's file."

Vol. I. p. 21 2). It is a pleasure to be able to vindi-
cate Sir John Davies from abuse of so genuine a Poet-
contemporary as Daniel, and Daniel from so weighty
an adverse judgment, had it really been Davies's. To
the same good friend who has so helped me elsewhere
— Dr. Brinsley Nicholson — I owe thanks for these too-
long-delayed corrections.

V. Marston and ' Orchestra? But if Harrington
and Davies of Hereford praised, there were others
who had their jeers at Orchestra, e.g. John Marston in
his nth Satire of his Scourge of Villanie, in ridiculing
the gallant who thinks of nothing but dancing, as he
afterwards does Luscus, who talks of nothing but Plays,
and vents only play-scraps, says (1599)

MEMORIAL-INTROD UCTION. cxxiii.

" Who ever heard spruce skipping Curio
Ere prate of ought but of the whirle on toe.

Praise but Orchestra, and the skipping art,
You shall command him, faith you have his hart
Even capring in your fist."

Then there follows (meo judicio) a reminiscence or two
of the poem itself, and a laugh at the " worthy poet,"
Thus in ' Orchestra/ st. 59, we have

" According to the musicke of the>spheres,"
and st. 60,

" And imitate the starres cselestiall."
and st. 71, speaking of Castor and Pollux :

" Where both are carried with an equall pace
Together Jumping in their turning race,"

and where, though ' iumping ' is of course used in the
sense not of our * jumping' (leaping) but in that of
equal or agreeing, as in " jump where may find Cassio,"
or as where the folio (I. i) has " just as this same hour "
the 4° Hamlet has " jump at this dead hour " ; yet
it has for the context an unlucky sound and association.
Hence Marston wickedly and waggishly continues :

"A hall, a hall

Roome for the spheres, the orbs celestiall
Will daunce Kemps jigge; they'le revel with neate jumps ;
A worthy poet hath put on their pumps.

cxxiv. MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.

O wits quick traverse but sance ced's slowe,
Good faith 'tis hard for nimble Curio.
Ye gracious orbes, keepe the old measuring
All's spoilde if once yee fall to capering."

VI. Hymnes to Astrcea. I adhere to Sir John Davies'
own form of Astraea in the collective edition of 1621.
Doubtless he and the Printer meant it for ' 3d ' not ' oe '
inasmuch as besides Astraea's mythological reign in the
golden age over a people that became too wicked for
her, she became the constellation Virgo, as celebrated,
among others, by Barnfield in his Cynthia.'1 The whole of
Hy. I. shows this, where the flattery was specially apt to
the subject on account of making Astraea the daughter
of Aurora : and so Hy. V. of the Lark : and Hy. XXI.

A. B. G.

1 See my edition of his Complete Poems for the Roxburghe Club.

THE

COMPLETE POEMS

OF

SIR JOHN DAVIES

I. NOSCE TEIPSUM.

NOTE.

* Nosce Teipsum ' was originally published in 1599 (4to).
The following is its title-page and collation :

Nosce teipsum

This Oracle expounded in Pwo
Elegies

1. Of Humane knowledge.

2. Of the Soule of Man, and the immortalitie
thereof.

[Wood-engraving of an anchor within a
border and the motto Anchora Spei.)

London,
Printed by Richard Field for lohn Standish,

1599. [410.]

Title-page — Dedication pp. 2 — Of humane Knowledge
pp. i — 8 — Of the soule of man and the immortalitie thereof
pp.9 — 101. A second edition appeared in 1602, whereof
the following are title-page and collation : —

Nosce teipsum,

This Oracle expounded in two

Elegies.

1. Of Humane knowledge.

2. Of the Soule of Man, and the immortalitie
thereof.

Neivly corrected and amended.

London,
Printed by Richard Field for lohn Standish.

1602. [4to,]

Title-page — Dedication pp. 2, signed ' Dauys' :
poem pp. 101.

NOTE.

A third edition was issued in 1608. I give its title-
page also :

Nosce teipsum

This Oracle expounded in Pwo
Elegies.

1. Of Humane Knowledge.

2. Of the Soule of Man and the immortalitie
thereof.

Written by Sir lohn Davis, his Maiesties
Atturney generall in Ireland.

London,

Printed by Henry Ballard for

lohn Standish. 1608. [4to.~|

Collation same with the others, supra.

The next edition known to me, bears the date of 1618,
along with Orchestra and Hymnes to Astraea : and the
last during the life-time of the Author, was in the sm. 8vo
of 1622, which volume contained the same Poems with
that of 1618.

Our text is a faithful reproduction, including the signifi-
cant and suggestive italics, of the last edition published by
Sir John Davies, viz., that of 1622, with the few various
readings from the first and subsequent editions. The fol-
lowing is the title-page and collation of 1622 edn.

NOTE.

Nosce Teipsum

This Oracle expounded in two
Elegies.

1. Of Humane Knowledge.

2. Of the Soule of Man, and the im-
mortalitie thereof.

Hymnes of Astr&a in

Acrosticke Verse.

ORCHESTRA,

OR,

A Poeme of Dauncing.

In a Dialogue betweene Penelope

and one of her Wooers.

Not finished.

London,

Printed by Augustine Matheives for Richard

Haivkins, and are to be sold at his Shop in

Chancery Lane, neere Serieants

Inne. 1622. [8vo.]

Title-page — Dedicn pp 2 — Of Humane Knowledge pp i
— 8 — Of the Soule of Man and the Immortalitie thereof
pp 9 — 81. Hymnes pp 20 [unpaged] — Orchestra pp 47
[unpaged].

In my first edition of Sir John Davies' Poems in the Fuller
Worthies' Library, I printed, perhaps with too hasty de-
cision, at the bottom of each page, certain slight MS. notes
written by the famous Bp. Hacket, in his copy of Nosce
Teipsum (1599). When it was too late to stop progress,
the mere curiosity of the jottings was perceived. I do not

NOTE.

deem it expedient to reproduce them here ; but a specimen
may be acceptable, and here and there in the places, a few.
I limit myself to the Dedication :

Heading, t soveraigne ' : Emmanuel [but Elizabeth was
meant].

L. i, ' maiestie ' : Elizabetha : and near it [meaning-
less] Richar[d] Yeorck.

L. i, ' North ' : Scotland [but erased], and so against
' sunne ' (1. 2) James, but erased.

L. 3, * heauenly worth ' : Shewes for thy glory.

L. 5, * alone ' : Supported by none but God.

L. 6, ' great States ' : Great affaires.

L. 8, ' the Almightie's hand ' : Per me reges regnant et
dixi dii estis.

L. 10, ' Nature's dowre ': Arte's excellence the gift of
nature.

L. 13, ' Great Spirit ' : Deus.

L. 1 6, ' Cynthia ' : Luna.

L. 30, 'angell ' : Angellus Pommi.

L. 32, * angell ' : [Ay]yeXXos LOTTOS.

L. 33, s Heauen ' : Superior : to the higher heauen.

L. 34, ' heauen ' : Inferior.

These suffice to show how carefully, if not always accu-
rately, the good Bishop read the poem, but also how unim-
portant his notes are. On the title-page opposite the words
" This Oracle," &c., is written " written in the temple of
Apollo, letters commendatory." On verso of the title-page,
is this memorandum by a former owner : " This Edition is
extremely scarce. Vide Smith's Catgue. Iron Bridge,

NOTE.

1822. Pr. O. 16. O. This Book came out of Mr. Hacket's.
Library, a Descendant of Bp. Hacket, whose Book it was,
and the MS. notes are by him." The book is now in the
library of my excellent fellow-collector, G. W. Napier, Esq.,
of Merchiston House, Alderley Edge, Manchester, to whom I
owe its re-use, as well as of other early editions of Davies. G.

I. Eopal Be&fratfon

TO MY MOST GRACIOVS DREAD
SOVERAIGNE.

T^ O that deere maiestie which in the North
Doth, like another Sunne in glory rise ;
Which standethfixt, yet spreads x her heauenly worth ;
Loadstone to hearts, and loadstarre to all eyes.

Like Hearfn in all ; like iff Earth in this alone,
That though 2 great States by her support doe stand,
Yet she herself e supported is of none,
But by the finger of the Almighties hand :

To the diuinest and the richest minde,
Both by Arfs purchase and by Natures dowre,
That euer was from Heau'n to Earth confined,
To shew the vtmost of a creature's power :

1 Spreds in ist edn. G.

2 Thomas Davies, as before, misprints ' thro.' G.

io DEDICATION.

To that great Spirit? which doth great kingdomes mooue,
The sacred spring whence right and honor streames,
Distilling Vertue, shedding Peace and Loue,
In euery place, as Cynthia sheds her beames :

I offer up some sparkles of that fire,

Whereby wee reason, Hue, and moue, and be ;
These sparkes by nature euermore aspire,
Which makes them to so high an highnessey?^.

Faire Soule, since to the fairest body knit?

You giue such liuely life, such quickning power,

Such sweet celestiall influences to iff

As keepes it still in youths immortall flower :

(As where the sunne is present all the yeere,
And neuer doth retire his golden ray,
Needs must the Spring bee euerlasting there,
And euery season like the month of May.)

3 Bp. Racket writes ' Deus ' against ' Spirit ' : but perhaps the
Queen only was (flatteringly) intended, as her poetic name of
Cynthia would seem to indicate. This word ' Spirit ' is misprinted
by Thomas Davies and by Southey and usually, ' spring'. G.

4 Misprinted by Davies and Southey, as before, 'join'd'. G.

5 Davies and Southey misread

'And influence of such celestial kind*
which I find supported by none of the author's own texts. G.

DEDICATION. n

O ! many, many yeeres may you remaine,
A happy angell to this happy Land ;
Long, long may you on Earth our empresse raigne,
Ere you in Heauen a glorious angell stand.

Stay long (sweet spirit) ere thou to Heauen depart \
Which makst each place a heauen wherein thou art.

Her Maiestie's least and vnworthiest Subiect6

IOHN DAVIES.7

6 Davies and Southey, as before, misread ' Her Majesty's Devoted
Subject and Servant' from Tate (1697). See our Memorial-Intro-
duction. G.

7 In 1599 edition ' Dauies,' and in 1608 edition ' Davis' and also
in its title-page: in 1622 edition, as above. G.

*#* TATE, and after him THOMAS DAVIES, dates this Dedication
' July i ith, 1592.' It is possible that the ' Poem ' was then in man-
uscript : but it was not printed or published until 1599, and there is
no date to the Dedication either in that edition or in those of 1602,
1608 or 1622. G.

s

II. ANOTHER DEDICATION OF A GIFT-COPY (IN MS.)

IN THE POSSESSION OF HlS GRACE THE DUKE OF

NORTHUMBERLAND, AT ALNWICK CASTLE. l

To the right noble, valorous, and learned Prince Henry,
Earle of Northumberland :

nnHE strongest and the noblest argument

To proue the soule immortall, rests in this :
That in no mortall thing it finds content,
But seekes an object that seternall is.

If any soule hath this immortall signe,

(As every soule doth show it, more or lesse),

It is your spirit, heroick and diuine ;

Which this true noate most liuely doth expresse ;

For being a prince, and hauing princely blood,
The noblest of all Europe in your vaines ;

Having youth, wealth, pleasure, and every good,

Which all the world doth seek, with endlesse paynes.

1 On this MS. of Nosce Teipsum see our Preface. G.

DEDICATION.

Yet can you never fixe yr thoughts on these,
These cannot with your heavenly mind agree ;

These momentary objects cannot please,

Your winged spirit, which more aloft doth flee.

It only longs to learne and know the truth,
The truth of every thing, which never dies ;

The nectar which preserves the soule in youth ;
The manna which doth minds immortalize.

These noble studdies, more ennoble you,

And bring more honor to your race and name

Than Hotspur's fier, which did the Scots subdew,
Then Brabant's scion, or great Charles his name.

Then to what spirit shall I these noates commend,
But unto that which doth them best expresse ;

Who will to them more kind protection lend,
Then Hee which did protect me in distresse ?

Of Humane Knowledge.

\ 1 THY did my parents send me to the Schooles,

That I with knowledge might enrich my mind ?
Since the desire to know first made men fools,
And did corrupt the root of all mankind :

For when God's hand had written in the hearts
Of the first Parents, all the rules of good,
So that their skill infusde did passe all arts
That euer were, before, or since the Flood ;

And when their reason's eye was sharpe and cleere,
And ( as an eagle can behold the sunne )
Could haue approcht th' Eternall Light as neere,
As the intellectuall angels could haue done :

Euen then to them the Spirit of Lyes suggests
That they were blind, because they saw not ill ;

16 OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

And breathes into their incorrupted brests
A curious wish, which did corrupt their will.

For that same ill they straight desir'd to know ;
Which ill, being nought but a defect of good,
In1 all God's works the Diuell could not show
While Man their lord in his perfection stood.

So that themselues were first to doe the ill,
Ere they thereof the knowledge could attaine ;
Like him that knew not poison's power to kill,
Vntill ( by tasting it ) himselfe was slaine.

1
Euen so by tasting of that fruite forbid,

Where they sought knowledge, they did error find ;
111 they desir'd to know, and ill they did ;
And to giue Passion eyes, made Reason blind.

For then their minds did first in Passion see
Those wretched shapes of Miserie and Woe,
Of Nakednesse, of Shame, of Ponertie,
Which then their owne experience made them know

But then grew Reason darke, that she no more.

Could the faire formes of Good 2 and Truth discern

1 Misprinted 'and* in ist edition and in 1608. G.

2 ' God 'in ist edition. G.

OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE. 17

Battes they became, that eagles were before :
And this they got by their desire to learne.

>O
But we their wretched of-spring, what doe we ?

Doe not we still taste of the fruit forbid

Whiles with fond3 fruitlesse curiositie,

In bookes prophane we seeke for knowledge hid ?

•*-^..-Vte.,^^M^««---^-*^'^"^.»A^-*«'- — *•-*>•- --•'— -~'-*^*»*«*^<^-^"^^X'*-*:*I*)^AI-^^

What is this knowledge but the sky-stolne fire,

For which the thief e^ still chain'd in ice doth sit ?
And which the poore rude Satyre did admire,
And needs would kisse but burnt his lips with it.5

What is it ? but the cloud of emptie raine,

Which when loue's guest imbrac't, hee monsters got?6
Or the false payles1 which oft being fild with paine,8
Receiv'd the water, but retain'd it not !

Shortly, what is it but the firie coach'
Which the Youth sought, and sought his death withal ?9

3 Foolish. G.

4 In ist edition 'Thief is misprinted 'shie' and Bp. Racket writes
here : ' Prometheus stole fire : qui in tulit in terram malum.' G.

i Fable in ^Esop [Babrius] . G. 6 Ixion. G.

7 Danaides. G. 8 Painstaking. G.

9 Phaethon. Racket.

B

1 8 OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

Or the boyJs wings, which when he did approch
The sunnJs hot beames, did melt and let him fall P1

And yet alas, when all our lamps are burnd,
Our bodyes wasted, and our spirits spent ;
When we haue all the learned Volumes turn'd,
Which yeeld mens wits both help and ornament :

r>
What can we know ? or what can we discerne ?

When Error chokes the windowes of the minde,
The diuers formes of things, how can we learne,
That haue been euer from our birth-day blind ? 2

When Reasonds lampe, which (like the sunne in skie)
Throughout Marts little world her beames did spread ;
Is now become a sparkle, which doth lie
Vnder the ashes, halfe extinct, and dead :

How can we hope, that through the eye and eare,
This dying sparkle, in this cloudy place,
Can recollect these beames of knowledge cleere,
Which were infus'd in the first minds by grace ?

So might the heire whose father hath in play
Wasted a thousand pound of ancient rent ;

1 Icarus. Racket.

2 Anima tanquam tabula, Aris [totle] . Hacket.

OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE. 19

By painefull earning of a3 groate a day,
Hope to restore the patrimony spent.

The wits that diu'd most deepe and soar'd most hie
Seeking Man's pow'rs, haue found his weaknesse such ;
" Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth flie,
" We learne so little and forget so much.

20

For this the wisest of all morall4 men

Said, ' He knew nought, but that he nought did know';
And the great mocking-Master mockt not then,
When he said, i Truth was buried deepe^ below'

For how may we to others' things attaine,

When none of vs his owne soule vnderstands ?
For which (the Diuell mockes our curious braine,
When, ''Know thy selfe' his oracle commands.6

For why should wee the busie Soule beleeue,
When boldly she concludes of that and this ;
When of her selfe, she can no iudgement giue,
Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what she is ?

3 ' One ' in 1599 and 1608 editions. G.

4 'Mortal' in 1599 and 1608 editions. G.

5 Misprinted ' here' but corrected in the errata of 1622 edition, as
above, from 1599 and 1608 editions. G.

6 Oraculum Appollinis [fjuit Diabolicum. Racket.

20 OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

All things without, which round about we see,
We seeke to knowe, and how therewith to doe ;
But that whereby we reason, Hue and be,
Within our selues, we strangers are thereto.

We seeke to know the mouing of each spheare,

And the strange cause of th' ebs and flouds of Nile;
But of that clocke within our breasts we beare,
The subtill motions we forget the while.

15
We that acquaint our selues with euery7 Zoane

And passe both Tropikes and behold the Poles,
When we come home, are to our selues vnknown,
And vnacquainted still with our owne Soules.

We study Speech but others we perswade ; f^n .
We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it ;
We interpret lawes, which other men haue made,
But reade not those which in our hearts are writ.

Is it8 because the minde is like the eye,

Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees —
Whose rayes reflect not, but spread outwardly :
Not seeing it selfe when other things it sees ?

7 Thomas Davies, as before, misprints ' each ' G.

8 Misprinted ' It is ' : corrected by H. . . G.

OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE. 21

No, doubtlesse ; for the mind can backward cast
Vpon her selfe, her vnderstanding light ;
But she is so corrupt, and so defac't,
As her owne image doth her selfe affright.

As in the fable of the Lady faire,

Which for her lust was turnd into a cow;9
When thirstie to a streame she did repaire,
And saw her selfe transform'd she wist not how :

At first she startles, then she stands amaz'd,
At last with terror she from thence doth flye ;
And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gaz'd,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die

Euen so Marts Soule which did God's image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure ;
Since with her sinnes her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure :

For euen at first reflection she espies,

Such strange chimeraes, and such monsters there ;

Such toyes, such antikes, and such vanities,

As she retires, and shrinkes for shame and feare.

9 lo. G.

22 OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

And as the man loues least at home to bee,

That hath a sluttish house haunted with spirits ;l

So she impatient her owne faults to see,

Turnes from her selfe and in strange things delites.

For this few know themselues : for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent and paine ;
And seas are troubled, when they doe reuoke
Their flowing waues into themselues againe.

And while the face of outward things we find,
Pleasing and faire, agreeable and sweet ;
These things transport, and carry out the mind,
That with her selfe her selfe2 can neuer meet.

Yet if Affliction once her warres begin,

And threat the feebler Sense with sword and fire ;
The Minde contracts her selfe and shrinketh in,
And to her selfe she gladly doth retire :

As Spiders toucht, seek their webs inmost part ;
&sj>ees_ in stormes vnto their hiues returne ;
As bloud in danger gathers to the heart ;
As men seek towns, when foes the country burn.

1 In 1599 and 1608 more accurately 'sprites ' G.

2 Davies and Southey substitute 'the mind' G.

OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

If ought can teach vs ought, Afflictions lookes,
(Making vs looke3 into our selues so neere,)
Teach vs to know our selues beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned Schooles that euer were.

This mistresse lately pluckt me by the eare,
And many a golden lesson hath me taught ;
Hath made my Senses quicke, and Reason cleare,
Reform'd my Will and rectifide my Thought.

So doe the winds and thunders cleanse the ayre ;
So working lees4 settle and purge the wine ;
So lop't and pruned trees doe flourish faire ;
So doth the fire the drossie gold refine.

Neither Minerua nor the learned Muse,
Nor rules of Art, nor precepts of the wise ;
Could in my braine those beames of skill infuse,
As but the glance of this Dame's angry eyes.

She within lists^ my ranging minde hath brought,
That now beyond my selfe I list6 not goe ;

3 Davies and Southey, as before, mis-substitute ' pry.' G.

4 An overlooked misprint here is ' seas ' : found in all the author's
own editions, and repeated until now, e.g. by Thomas Davies and
Southey, as before. G.

5 Bounds : as in Race-courses. G.

6 Thorns Davies, as before, mis-reads ' will ' G.

24 OF HUMANE KNOWLEDGE.

My selfe am center of my circling thought,
Onely my selfe I studie, learne, and know.

I know my bodie's of so fraile a kind,
As force without, feauers within can kill ;
I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will :

I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all ;
I know I am one of Nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

I know my life's a paine and but a span,
I know my Sense is mockt with euery thing :
And to conclude, I know my selfe a MAN,
Which is & prou^ and yet a wretched thing.

OF THE SOULE OF MAN AND THE
IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

lights of head n (which are the World's fair eies)
Looke downe into the World, the World to see ;
And as they turne, or wander in the skies,
Suruey all things that on this Center bee.

And yet the lights which in my towre do shine, f i & «f r~*1' ^

toO

Mine eyes which view all obiects, nigh and farre ;
Looke not into this little world of mine,
Nor see my face, wherein they fixed are.

Since Nature failes vs in no needfull thing,
Why want I meanes my inward selfe to see ?
Which sight the knowledg of my self might bring,
Which to true wisdome is the first degree.

That Power which gaue me eyes the World to view,
To see my selfe infus'd an inward light ;
Whereby my Soule, as by a mirror true,
Of her owne forme may take a perfect sight,

26 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

But as the sharpest eye discerneth nought,

Except the .$wz;2£-beames in the ayre doe shine ;
So the best Souk1 with her reflecting thought,
Sees not her selfe without some light diuine.

O Light which mak'st the light, which makes the day !
Which setst the eye without, and mind within ;
'Lighten my spirit with one cleare heauenly ray,
Which now to view it selfe doth first begin.

For her true forme how can my sparke discerne ?
Which dimme by nature, Art did neuer cleare ;
When the great wits, of whom all skill we learn,
Are ignorant both what shee is, and where.

One thinks the Souk is aire; another, fire;
Another blood, diffus'd about the heart ;
Another saith, the elements conspire,
And to her essence each doth giue a part.

Musicians thinke our Souks are harmonies,
Phisicians hold that they complexions bee ;
Epicures make them swarmes of atomies,
Which doe by chance into our bodies flee.

7 'Sense' in ist edn. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 27

10

Some thinke one generall Soule fils euery braine,

As the bright sunne sheds light in euery starre ;
And others thinke the name of Soule is vaine,
And that we onely well-mixt bodies are.

In judgement of her substance thus they vary ;
And thus they vary in iudgement of her seat ;
For some her chaire vp to the braine doe carry,
Some thrust it downe into the stomackes heat.

Some place it in the root of life, the heart ;
Some in the liuer* fountaine of the veines ;
Some say, Shee is all in all, and all in part :
Some say, She is not containd but all containes.

Thus these great clerks their little wisdome show,
While with their doctrines they at hazard play,
Tossing their light opinions to and fro,
To mocke the lewd, as learn'd in this as they.

For no craz'd braine could euer yet propound,
Touching the Soule, so vaine and fond a thought,
But some among these masters haue been found,
Which in their Schooles the self-same thing haue taught.

8 Davies and Southey misprint egregiously ' river.' G.

28 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

God onely wise, to punish pride of wit,
Among men's wits hath this confusion wrought,
As the proud towre whose points the clouds did hit,
By tongues' confusion was to mine brought.

But Thou which didst Man's soule of nothing make,
And when to nothing it was fallen agen,
" To make it new, the forme of man didst take,
" And God with God, becam'st a Man with men.

Thou, that hast fashioned twice this Soule of ours,
So that she is by double title Thine ;
Thou onely knowest her nature and her pow'rs,
Her subtill forme Thou onely canst define.

To iudge her selfe she must her selfe transcend,
As greater circles comprehend the lesse ;
But she wants power, her owne powers to extend,
As fettered men can not their strength expresse.

But Thou bright Morning Star, Thou rising Sunne,
Which in these later times hast brought to light
Those mysteries, that since the world begun,
Lay hid in darknesse, and eternall night :
2s

Thou (like the sunne) dost with indifferent ray,
Into the palace and the cottage shine,

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 29

And shew'st the soule both to the clerke and lay,9
By the cleare lampe of Thy Oracle diuine.

This Lampe through all the regions of my braine,
Where my soule sits, doth spread such beames of grace,
As now, me thinks, I do distinguish plain,
Each subtill line of her immortall face.

WHAT THE SOULE is.

The soule a substance, and a spirit is,
Which God Himselfe doth in the body make \
Which makes the Man : for euery man from this,
The nature of a Man, and name doth take.

And though this1 spirit be to the body knit,
As an apt meane her powers to exercise ;
Which are life, motion, sense, and will, and wit,
Yet she suruiues, although the body dies.

THAT THE SOULE is A THING SUBSISTING BY IT SELFE

WITHOUT THE BODY.

O HE is a substance, and a reall thing,

Which hath it selfe an actuall working might ;

9 Laymen. G.

1 'The' in istedn. G.

30 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Which neither from the Senses' power doth spring,
Nor from the bodie's humors, tempred right.

She is a vine, which doth no propping need,
To make her spread her selfe or spring vpright ;
She is a starre, whose beames doe not proceed
From any sunne, but from a natiue light

For when she sorts things present with things past,
And thereby things to come doth oft foresee ;
When she doth doubt at first, and chuse at last,
These acts her owne, without her body bee.

*-7.

When of the deaw,2 which the eye and eare doe take
From flowers abroad, and bring into the braine,
She doth within both waxe and hony make :
This worke is her's, this is her proper paine.3

When she from sundry acts, one skill doth draw,
Gathering from diuers fights one art4 of warre,
From many cases like, one rule of Law ;
These her collections, not the Senses are.

•

2 Dew : and so spelled also by the Fletchers and other contempo-
raries. G.

3 Painstaking. G.

4 Misprinted ' act' in the ist edn. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 31

When in th' effects she doth the causes know,

And seeing the stream, thinks wher the spring doth rise
And seeing the branch, conceiues the root below ;
These things she views without the bodie's eyes.

When she, without a Pegasus, doth flie

Swifter then lightning's fire from East to West,
About the Center and aboue the skie,
She trauels then, although the body rest.

When all her works she formeth first within,
Proportions them, and sees their perfect end,
Ere she in act does anie part begin ; .
What instruments doth then the body lend ?

When without hands she doth thus5 castles build,
Sees without eyes, and without feet doth runne ;
When she digests the world, yet is not fil'd :
By her owne power these miracles are done.

When she defines, argues, diuides, compounds,
Considers vertue, vice, and generall things,
And marrying diuers principles and grounds,
Out of their match a true conclusion brings.

5 In ist edition 'she thus doth.' G.

32 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

These actions in her closet all alone,

(Retir'd within her selfe) she doth fulfill ;
Vse of her bodie's organs she hath none,
When she doth vse the powers of Wit and Will.

Yet in the bodie's prison so she lies,
As through the bodie's windowes she must looke,
Her diuers powers of sense to exercise,
By gath'ring notes out of the World's great book.

Nor can her selfe discourse or iudge of ought,

But what the Sense collects and home doth bring ;
And yet the power of her discoursing thought,
From these collections, is a diuers thing.

For though our eyes can nought but colours see,
Yet colours giue them not their powre of sight ;
So, though these fruits of Sense her obiects bee,
Yet she discernes them by her proper light

The workman on his stufTe his skill doth show,
And yet the stuffe giues not the man his skill ;
Kings their affaires do by their seruants know,
But order them by their owne royall will.

So, though this cunning mistresse and this queene,
Doth, as her instrument, the Senses vse,

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 33

To know all things that are J elt, heard, or seene,
Yet she her selfe doth onely fudge and chuse:

<H>
Euen as our great wise Empresse* that now raignes

By soueraigne title ouer sundry Lands';
Borrowes in meane affaires her subiects paines,
Sees by their eyes, and writeth by their hands ;

But things of waight and consequence indeed,
Her selfe doth in her chamber them debate ;
Where all her Counsellers she doth exceed
As farre in iudgement, as she doth in State.

Or as the man whom she doth now aduance,7
Vpon her gracious mercy-seat to sit ;
Doth common things, of course and circumstance,
To the reports of common men commit :

But when the cause it selfe must be decreed,
Himselfe in person, in his proper Court,
To graue and solemne hearing doth proceed,
Of euery proofe and euery by-report.

6 Q. Eliz [abeth] . H. [Davies and Southey, as before, substitute
' a prudent emperor.' G.]

7 Davies and Southey, as before, substitute ' whom prhices do.'
Ellesmere. See sonnet addressed to him among ' Minor poems.' G.

34 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Then, like God's angell he pronounceth right,
And milke and hony from his tongue doth flow ;
Happie are they that still are in his sight,
To reape the wisedome which his lips doe sow.

Right so the Soule, which is a lady free,
And doth the iustice of her State maintaine ;
Because the senses ready seruants be,
Attending nigh about her Court, the braine :

By them the formes of outward things she learnes,
For they returne into the fantasie,
What euer each of them abroad discernes,
And there inrole it for the Minde to see.

But when she sits to iudge the good and ill,
And to discerne betwixt the false and true ;
She is not guided by the Senses' skill,
But doth each thing in her owne mirrour view.

Then she the Senses checks, which oft do erre,
And euen against their false reports decrees ;
And oft she doth condemne what they preferre,
For with a power aboue the Sense, she sees.

Therefore no Sense the precious ioyes conceiues,
Which in her priuate contemplations bee ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 35

For then the rauish't spirit the Senses leaues,
Hath her owne powers, and proper actions free.

^>
Her harmonies are sweet, and full of skill,

When on the Bodie's instrument she playes ;

But the proportions of the wit and will,

Those sweete accords, are euen the angel's layes.

These tunes of Reason are Amphioris lyre,
Wherewith he did the Thebane citie found ;
These are the notes wherewith the heauenly quire,
The praise of Him which made8 the heauen doth sound.

Then her selfe-being nature shines in this,

That she performes her noblest works alone ;
" The worke, the touch-stone of the nature is,
" And by their operations, things are knowne.

THAT THE SOULE is MORE THEN A PERFECTION OR

REFLECTION OF THE SENSE.

A RE they not sencelesse then, that thinke the Soule

Nought but a fine perfection of the Sense;
Or of the formes which fancie doth enroule,
A quicke resulting, and a consequence 1

8 ' Spreads' in ist edn. G.

36 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

What is it then that doth the Sense accuse,
Both of false judgements ^ x&difond appetites ?
What makes vs do what Sense doth most refuse ?
Which oft in torment of the Sense delights ?

Sense thinkes the planets, spheares not much asunder ;
What tels vs then their distance is so farre ?
Sense thinks the lightning borne before the thunder ;
What tels vs then they both together are ?

When men seem crows far off vpon a towre,

Sense saith, th'are crows; what makes vs think them men?
When we in agues, thinke all sweete things sowre,
What makes vs know our tongue's false iudgement then ?

What power was that, whereby Medea saw,

And well approu'd, and prais'd the better course,
When her rebellious Sense did so withdraw
Her feeble powers, as she pursu'd the worse?9

Did Sense perswade VKsses not to heare

The mermaid's songs, which so his men did please ;

9 Meliora proboq iora .... sequor .... Sen'a. H.

[Rather Ovid vii. 20.

.... Video meliora, proboque

Deteriora sequor'

Pathetically quoted by BYRON in his remarkable Letter to JOHN
SHEPPARD. G]

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 37

As they were all perswaded, through the eare
To quit the ship, and leape into the seas ?

Could any power of Sense the Romane moue,

To burn his own right hand with courage stout P1
Could Sense make Marius sit vnbound, and proue
The cruell lancing of the knotty gout ?2

£o
Doubtlesse in Man there is a nature found,

Beside the Senses, and aboue them farre ;

" Though most men being in sensuall pleasures drownd,

" It seemes their Soules but in their Senses are.

If we had nought but Sense, then onelythey

Should haue sound minds, which haue their Senses sound;
But Wisdome growes, when Senses doe decay,
And folly most in quickest Sense is found.

If we had nought but Sense, each liuing wight,
Which we call brute, would be more sharp then we ;
As hauing Sense's apprehensiue might,
In a more cleere, and excellent degree.

1 The allusion is to Mutius Scaevola, who was taken in an attempt
to assassinate Porsena, and thrust his hand into the fire to prove his
fortitude: Livy n. 12. G.

2 The story is told by Plutarch in his Life of Marius c. vi. 415. G.

38 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

But they doe want that quicke discoursing power,
Which doth in vs the erring Sense correct ;
Therefore the bee did sucke the painted flower,
And birds, of grapes, the cunning shadow, peckt.3

Sense outsides knows ; the Soule throgh al things sees ;
Sense, circumstance; she, doth the substance view;
Sense sees the barke, but she, the life of trees ;
Sense heares the sounds, but she, the concords true.

But why doe I the Soule and Sense diuide ?
When Sense is but a power, which she extends ;
Which being in diuers parts diuersifide,
The diuers formes of obiects apprehends ?

This power spreds outward, but the root doth grow
In th' inward Soule, which onely doth perceiue ;
For th' eyes and eares no more their obiects know,
Then glasses know what faces they receiue.

For if we chance to fixe our thoughts elsewhere,
Although our eyes be ope, we cannot see ;
And if one power did not both see and heare,
Our sights and sounds would alwayes double be.

3 Pliny xxxv. 36 § 3 : told of a picture of Zeuxis, as that of the
horse neighing is of another by Apelles (ib § 17.) G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

39

Then is the Souk a nature, which containes
The powre of Sense, within a greater power
Which doth imploy and vse the Senses paines,
But sits and rules within her priuate bower.

THAT THE SOULE is MORE THEN THE TEMPERATURE4

OF THE HUMORS OF THE BODY.

~\Fshee doth then the subtill Sense excell,

How gross are they that drown her in the blood !
Or in the bodie's humors tempred well,
As if in them such high perfection stood ?

70
As if most skill in that Musician were,

Which had the best, and best tun'd instrument ;
As if the pensill neate5 and colours cleare,
Had power to make the Painter excellent.

Why doth not beautie then refine the wit ?
And good complexion rectifie the will ?
Why doth not health bring wisdom still with it ?
Why doth not sicknesse make men bruitish still ?

Who can in memory r, or wit, or will,

Or ayre, or fire, or earth, or water finde ?

4 Misprinted « temparature.' G.

5 Clean, pure. G.

40 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

What alchymist can draw, with all his skil,
The quintessence of these, out of the mind ?

If th' elements which haue nor life, nor sense,
Can breed in vs so great a powre as this ;
Why giue they not themselues like excellence,
Or other things wherein their mixture is ?

If she were but the Bodie's qualitie

Then would she be with it sicke, maim'd and blind;
But we perceiue where these priuations be
A healthy, perfect, and sharpe-sighted mind.

7>

If she the bodie's nature did pertake,
Her strength would with the bodie's strength decay
But when the bodie's strongest sinewes slake,
Then is the Soule most actiue, quicke and gay.

If she were but the bodie's accident,
And her sole being did in it subsist ;
As white in snow ; she might her selfe absent,
And in the bodie's substance not be mist.

But //.on her, not shee on it depends ;

For shee the body doth sustaine and cherish ;

Such secret powers of life to it she lends,

That when they faile, then doth the body perish.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 41

Since then the Souk works by her selfe alone.

Springs not from Sense, nor humors, well agreeing ;
Her nature is peculiar, and her owne :
She is a substance, and a perfect being.

THAT THE SOULE is A SPIRIT.

T) UT though this substance be the root of Sense,

Sense knowes her not, which doth but bodies know ;
Shee is a spirit, and heauenly influence,
Which from the fountaine of God's Spirit doth flow.

-»« ;

Shee is a Spirit, yet not like ayre, or winde,

Nor like the spirits about the heart or braine;
Nor like those spirits which alchymists do find,
When they in euery thing seeke gold in vaine.

For shee all natures vnder heauen doth passe ;

Being like those spirits, which God's bright face do see ;
Or like Himselfe, Whose image once she was,
Though now (alas !) she scarce His shadow bee.

Yet of the formes, she holds the first degree,
That are to grosse materiall bodies knit ;
Yet shee her selfe is bodilesse and free ;
And though confin'd, is almost infinite.

42 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

THAT IT CANNOT BE A BODY.
Were she a body how could she remaine
Within this body, which is lesse then she ?
Or how could she the world's great shape contain,
And in our narrow brests contained bee?

All bodies are confin'd within some place,
But she all place within her selfe confines ;
All bodies haue their measure, and their space,
But who can draw the Soutts dimensiue lines ?

No body can at once two formes admit,
Except the one the other doe deface ;
But in the settle ten thousand formes do sit,
And none intrudes into her neighbour's place.

All bodies are with other bodies fild,

But she receiues both heauen and earth together ;
Nor are their formes by rash incounter spild,
For there they stand, and neither toucheth either.

Nor can her wide imbracements filled bee ;

For they that most, and greatest things embrace,

Inlarge thereby their minds' capacitie,

As streames inlarg'd, inlarge the channel's space.6

6 ' Time but the impression stronger makes
As streams their channels deeper wear.'

BURNS : to Mary in Heaven.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 43

All things receidd, doe such proportion take,
As those things haue, wherein they are receitfd:
So little glasses little faces make,
And narrow webs on narrow frames be weau'd ;

Then what vast body must we make the mind

Wherin are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, and lands ;
And yet each thing a proper place doth find,
And each thing in the true proportion stands ?

<?i

Doubtlesse this could not bee, but that she turnes
Bodies to spirits, by sublimation strange ;
As fire conuerts to fire the things it bumes
As we our meats into our nature change.

From their grosse matter she abstracts the formes,
And drawes a kind of quintessence from things ;
Which to her proper nature she transformes,
To bear them light on her celestiall wings :

This doth she, when, from things particular,
She doth abstract the universall kinds ;
Which bodilesse and immateriall are,
And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds :

And thus from diuers accidents and acts,
Which doe within her obseruation fall,

44 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

She goddesses, and powers diuine, abstracts :
As Nature, Fortune, and the Vertues all.

Againe, how can she seuerall bodies know,
If in her selfe a bodies forme she beare ?
How can a mirror sundry faces show,
If from all shapes and formes it be not cleare ?

Nor could we by our eyes all colours learne,
Except our eyes were of all colours voide ;
Nor sundry tastes can any tongue discerne,
Which is with grosse and bitter humors cloide.

Nor may a man of passions iudge aright,

Except his minde bee from all passions free ;
Nor can a Iudge his office well acquite,
If he possest of either partie bee.

If lastly, this quicke power a body were,
Were it as swift as is7 the winde or fire;
(Whose atomies doe th' one down side-waies beare,
And make the other in pyramids aspire :)

Her nimble body yet in time must moue,
And not in instants through all places slide ;

7 Southey misprints ' in.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 45

But she is nighj and farre, beneath, aboue,

In point of time, which thought cannot deuide :

She is sent as soone to China as to Spame,
And thence returnes, as soone as shee is sent ;
She measures with one time, and with one paine,
An ell of silke, and heauen's wide spreading tent.

As then the Souk a substance hath alone,
Besides the Body in which she is confin'd ;
So hath she not a body of her pwne,
But is a spirit, and immaterial! minde.

THAT THE SOULE is CREATED IMMEDIATELY BY GOD.

Since body and soule haue such diuersities,

Well might we muse, how first their match began ;
But that we learne, that He that spread the skies,
And fixt the Earth, first form'd the soule in man.

This true Prometheus first made Man of earth,
And shed in him a beame of heauenly fire ;
Now in their mother's wombs before their birth,
Doth in all sonnes of men their soules inspire.

And as Minerua is in fables said,

From loue, without a mother to proceed ;

46 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

So our true loue, without a mother's ay'd,
Doth daily millions of Mineruas breed.

ERRONIOUS OPINIONS OF THE CREATION OF SOULES.

HPHEN neither from eternitie before,

Nor from the time when Timers first point begun ;
Made He all soules : which now He keepes in store,
Some in the moone, and others in the sunne :

Nor in a secret doyster doth Hee keepe

These virgin-spirits, vntill their marriage-day ;
Nor locks them vp in chambers, where they sleep,
Till they awake, within these beds of clay.

Nor did He first a certaine number make,
Infusing part in beasts, and part in men,
And, as vnwilling further paines to take,
Would make no more then those He framed then.

So that the widow Soule her body dying,
Vnto the next-borne body married was ;
And so by often changing and supplying,
Mens' soules to beasts, and beasts to men did passe.

(These thoughts are fond ; for since the bodies borne
Be more in number farre then those that dye ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 47

Thousands must be abortiue, and forlorne,
Ere others' deaths to them their souks supply.)

But as God's handmaid, Nature, doth create
Bodies in time distinct, and order due;8
So God giues souks the like successiue date,
Which Himselfe makes, in bodies formed new :

Which Him selfe makes, of no materiall thing ;
For vnto angels He no power hath giuen,
Either to forme the shape, or stuife to bring
From ayre oijire, or substance of the heauen.

Nor He in this doth Nature's seruice vse ;

For though from bodies, she can bodies bring,
Yet could she neuer soules from Soules traduce,
As fire from fire, or light from light doth spring.

OBJECTION : — THAT THE SOULE is EXTRADUCE.

A LAS ! that some, that were great lights of old,

And in their hands the lampe of God did beare ;9
Some reuerend Fathers did this error hold,
Hauing their eyes dim'd with religious feare !

8 Misprinted in 1608 and 1622 edition 'other:' correctly, as above,
in 1599 edition. G.

9 Holy Scriptures. G.

48 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

For when (say they) by Rule of Faith we find,
That euery soule vnto her body knit,
Brings from the mother's wombe, the sinne of kind,
The roote of all the ill she doth commit

How can we say that God the Soule doth make,
But we must make Him author of her sinne ?
Then from man's soule she doth beginning take,
Since in man's soule corruption did begin.

For if God make her, first He makes her ill,

(Which God forbid our thoghts should yeeld vnto !)
Or makes the body her faire forme to spill,1
Which, of it selfe it had no power to doe.

Not Adam's body but his soule did sinne
And so her selfe vnto corruption brought ;
But the poore soule corrupted is within,
Ere shee had sinn'd, either in act, or thought :

And yet we see in her such powres diuine,

As we could gladly thinke, from God she came;
Faine would we make Him Author of the wine,
If for the dregs we could some other blame.

1 = Spoil. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 49

THE ANSWERE TO THE OBJECTION.
f~T*HUS these good men with holy zeale were blind,

When on the other part the truth did shine ;
Whereof we doe cleare demonstrations find,
By light of Nature, and by light Diuine.

None are so grosse as to contend for this,
That soules from bodies may traduced bee ;
Betweene whose natures no proportion is,

i When roote and branch in nature still agree.

But many subtill wits haue iustifi'd,

That souks from souks spiritually may spring ;
Which (if the nature of the souk be tri'd)
Will euen in Nature proue as grosse a thing.

?r~

REASONS DRAWNE FROM NATURE.
TTJ* OR all things made, are either made of nought,
Or made of stuffe that ready made doth stand ;
Of nought no creature euer formed ought,
For that is proper to th' Almightie's hand.

If then the soule another souk doe make,
Because her power is kept within a bound,
Shee must some former stuffe or matter take ;
But in the soule there is no matter found.

50 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Then if her heauenly Forme doe not agree
With any matter which the world containes ;
Then she of nothing must created bee,
And to create, to God alone pertaines.

Againe, if soules doe other soules beget,

'Tis by themselues, or by the bodie's power ;
If by themselues, what doth their working let,
But they might soules engender euery houre ?

If by the body, how can wit and will
loyne with the body onely in this act?
Sith2 when they doe their other works fulfill,
They from the body doe themselues abstract 1

Againe, if soules of soules begotten were,

Into each other they should change and moue
And change and motion still corruption beare ;
How shall we then the soule immortall proue ?

If lastly, soules doe3 generation vse,

Then should they spread incorruptible seed ;

2 Here and elsewhere, the 1622 edn. alters ' since ' of the 1599 and
1608 edns. to the earlier form 'sith': on which see Wright's Bible
Word-Book, s.v. G.

3 In 1599 and 1608 edas., 'did.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 51

What then becomes of that which they doe lose,
When th' acts of generation doe not speed ?

And though the souk could cast spirituall seed,
Yet would she not, because she neuer dies ;
For mortall things desire their like to breed,
That so they may their kind immortalize.

Therefore the angels, sonnes of God are nam'd,
And marry not, nor are in marriage giuen ;
Their spirits and ours are of one substance fram'd,
And haue one Father, euen the Lord of heauen :

Who would at first, that in each other thing,
The earth and water liuing soules should breed ;
But that man's soule whom- He would make their king,
Should from Himselfe immediatly proceed.

And when He took the woman from man's side,
Doubtlesse Himselfe inspir'd her soule alone ;
For 'tis not said, He did man's soule diuide,
But \.Q<& flesh of his flesh, bone, of his bone.

Lastly, God being made Man for man's owne sake,
And being like Man in all, except in sin,
His body from the virgin's wombe did take ;
But all agree, God form' d His soule within^

52 OF THE SOULE OF MAN.

Then is the souk from God ; so Pagans say,
Which saw by Natures light her heauenly kind ;
Naming her kin to God, and God's bright ray,
A citizen of Heauen to Earth confined.

But now, I feele, they plucke me by the eare
Whom my young Muse so boldly termed blind ;
And craue more heauenly light, that cloud to clear,
Which makes them think God doth not make the mind.

REASONS DRAWNE FROM DIUINITY.

r^ OD doubtlesse makes her, and doth make her good,

And graffes her in the body, there to spring ;
Which, though it be corrupted, flesh and blood
Can no way to the Soule corruption bring :

And yet this Soule (made good by God at first,4
And not corrupted by the bodie's ill)
Euen in the wombe is sinfull, and accurst,
Ere shee can iudge by wit or chuse by will?

Yet is not God the Author of her sinne

Though Author of her being, and being tJiere ;

4 By an unhappy oversight, the whole of this stanza is dropped
out of 1697 edition : and thence, by Davies, and generally. G.

5 Davies and Southey, as before, substitute ' ill.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 53

And if we dare to iudge our fudge herein,6
He can condemne vs, and Himselfe can cleare.

First, God from infinite eternitie

Decreed, what hath beene, ts, or shall bee done ;
And was resolu'd, that euery man should bee,
And in his turrie, his race of life should run :

And so did purpose all the soules to make,
That euer haue beene made, or euer shall ;
And that their being they should onely take
In humane bodies, or not bee at all.

Was it then fit that such a weake euent

( W\e\aknesse it selfe, — the sinne and fall of Man)
His counsel's execution should preuent,
Decreed and fixt before the World began ?

Or that one penall law by Adam broke,
Should make God breake His owne eternall Law ;
The setled order of the World reuoke,
And change all forms of things, which He foresaw ?

Could Ends weake hand, extended to the tree,
In sunder rend that adamantine chaine,

6 Davies and Southey, as before, substitute ' Maker's will.' G.

54 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Whose golden links, effects and causes be,

And which to God's owne chair doth fixt remaine.7

O could we see, how cause from cause doth spring !
How mutually they linkt and folded are !
And heare how oft one disagreeing string
The harmony doth rather make then marre ?

And view at once, how death by sinne is brought,
And how from death, a better life doth rise,
How this God's tustice, and His mercy tought :
We this decree would praise, as right and wise.

But we that measure times by first and last,
The sight of things successiuely, doe take ;
When God on all at once His view doth cast,
And of all times doth but one instant make.

All in Himselfe as in a glasse Hee sees,

I 'or from Him, by Him, through Him, all things bee :

His sight is not discoursiue, by degrees,

But seeing the whole, each single part doth see.8

7 Homer, Iliad, vin. 19 : and cf. Tennyson ('Morte d' Arthur,'
p. 200 : edition 1848.)

' For so the whole round world is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.' G.
8>It is noticeable that the supreme Divine and Thinker of America
— Jonathan Edwards — accepts this symbol of the ' Tree,' and
works it out marvellously in his great treatise on 'Original Sin.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF 55

He lookes on Adam, as a root, or well,

And on his heires, as branches, and as streames ;
He sees all men as 0;^ Man, though they dwell
In sundry cities, and in sundry realmes :

And as the roote and branch are but one tree,
And well and strmme doe but one riuer make ;
So, if the root and a;*// corrupted bee,
The streame and branch the same corruption take :

So, when the root and fountaine of Mankind
Did draw corruption, and God's curse, by sin ;
This was a charge that all his heires did bind,
And all his offspring grew corrupt therein.

And as when the hand doth strike, the Man offends,
(For part from whole, Law seuers not in this)
So Adam's sinne to the whole kind extends ;
For all their natures are but part of his.

Therefore this sinne of kind, not personall,
But reall and hereditary was ;
The guilt whereof, and punishment to all,
By course of Nature, and of Law doth passe.

For as that easie Law was giuen to all,
To ancestor and heire, to first and last ;

56 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

So was the first transgression generall,
And all did plucke the fruit and all did tast.

Of this we find some foot-steps in our Law,
Which doth her root from God and Nature take ;
Ten thousand men she doth together draw,
And of them all, one Corporation make :

Yet these, and their successors, are but one,
And if they gaine or lose their liberties ;
They harme, or profit not themselues alone,
But such as in succeeding times shall rise.

And so the ancestor, and all his heires,

Though they in number passe the stars of heauen,
Are still but one ; his forfeitures are theirs,
And vnto them are his aduancements giuen :

His ciuill acts doe binde and bar them all;
And as from Adam, all corruption take,
So, if the father's crime be capitall
In all the bloud, Law doth corruption make.

Is it then iust with vs, to dis-inherit
The vnbora nephewes for the father's fault ?
And to aduance againe for one man's merit,
A thousand heires, that have deserved nought ?

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 57

And is not God's decree as iust as ours,
If He, for Adam's sinne, his sonnes depriue,
Of all those natiue vertues, and those powers,
Which He to him, and to his race did giue ?

For what is this contagious sinne of kinde
But a priuation of that grace within ?
And of that great rich dowry of the minde
Which all had had, but for the first man's sin ?

If then a man, on light conditions gaine
A great estate, to him and his, for euer ;
If wilfully he forfeit it againe
Who doth bemone his heire or blame the giuer ?

So, though God make the Soule good, rich and faire,
Yet when her forme is to the body knit,
Which makes the Man, which man is Adanfs hetre
lustly forth-with He takes His grace from it:

And then the soule being first from nothing brought,
When God's grace failes her, doth to nothing fall ;
And this declining pronenesse unto nought,
Is euen that sinne that we are borne withall.

Yet not alone the first good qualities,

Which in the first souk were, depriued are ;

58 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

But in their place the contrary doe rise,
And reall spots9 of sinne her beauty marre.

Nor is it strange, that Adam's ill desart
Should be transferd vnto his guilty Race ;
When Christ His grace and iustice doth impart
To men vniust, and such as haue no grace.

Lastly, the Souk were better so to bee

Borne slaue to sinne, then not to be at all ;
Since (if she do belieue) One sets her free,
That makes her mount the higher for her fall.

Yet this the curious wits will not content ;
They yet will know (sith1 God foresaw this ill)
Why His high Prouidence did not preuent
The declination of the first man's will

If by His Word He had the current staid
Of Adam's will, which was by nature free ;
It had bene one, as if His Word had said,
I will henceforth that Man no man shall bee.

For what is Man without a moouing mind,
Which hath a iudging wit, and chusing will ?

9 Misprinted in 1622 'sports:' 'spots' from 1599, 1602 and 1608. G.
1 ' Since,1 as before in 1599 and 1608 editions. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 59

Now, if God's power should her election bind,
Her motions then would cease and stand all still.

And why did God in man this soule infuse,
But that he should his Maker know and loue ?
Now, if loue be compeld and cannot chuse,
How can it gratefull or thankeworthy proue ?

Loue must free-hearted be, and voluntary,
And not enchanted, or by Fate constraind ;
Nor like that loue, which did Ulisses carry,
To Circus ile, with mighty charmes enchaind.

Besides, were we vnchangeable in willy
And of a wit that nothing could mis-deerne ;
Equall to God, Whose wisedome shineth still,
And neuer erres, we might our selues esteeme.

So that if Man would be vnuariable,

He must be God, or like a rock or tree ;
For euen the perfect Angels were not stable,
But had a fall more desperate then wee.

Then let vs praise that Power, which makes vs be
Men as we are, and rest contented so ;
And knowing Man's fall was curiositie,
Admire God's counsels, which we cannot know.

60 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

And let vs know that God the Maker is
Of all the Souks, in all the men that be :
Yet their corruption is no fault of His,
But the first man's that broke God's first decree.

T

WHY THE SOULE is UNITED TO THE BODY.
HIS substance, and this spirit of God's owne making,

Is in the body plact, and planted heere ;
" That both of God, and of the world partaking,
" Of all that is, Man might the image beare.

God first made angels bodilesse, pure minds,
Then other things, which mindlesse bodies be \
Last, He made Man, th' horizon 'twixt both kinds,
In whom we doe the World's abridgement see.2

Besides, this World below did need one wight,
Which might thereof distinguish euery part ;
Make vse thereof, and take therein delight,
And order things with industry and art :

Which also God might in His works admire,
And here beneath, yeeld Him both praier and praise;

2 One of Heylin's numerous books is called ' Microcosmus : ' a
little Description of the great World. Oxon : ist edn., 1622. The
word is met with in other old title-pages and in theological (Puritan)
writings. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 61

As there, aboue, the holy angels quire
Doth spread His glory3 with spirituall layes.

Lastly, the bruite, unreasonable wights,
Did want a visible king on4 them to raigne :
And God, Himselfe thus to the World vnites,
That so the World might endlesse blisse obtaine.

IN WHAT MANNER THE SoULE IS UNITED TO THE
BODY.

"D UT how shall we this union well expresse ?
Nought ties the soule; her subtiltie is such
She moues the bodie, which she doth possesse,
Yet no part toucheth, but by VertuJs touch.

Then dwels shee not therein as in a tent,
Nor as a pilot in his ship doth sit \
Nor as the spider in his5 web is pent ;
Nor as the waxe retaines the print in it ;

Nor as a vessell water doth containe ;
Nor as one liquor in another shed ;

3 Davies and Southey, as before, insert ' forth ' here. G.

4 Davies and Southey, as before, substitute ' o'er :' but ' on ' is the
Poet's own word here and elsewhere. G.

5 In 1599 and 1608 editions, ' her.' G.

62 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Nor as the heat doth in the fire remaine ;
Nor as a voice throughout the ayre is spread :

But as the faire and cheerfull Morning light,
Doth here and there her siluer beames impart,
And in an instant doth herselfe vnite
To the transparent ayre, in all, and part :

Still resting whole, when blowes th' ayre diuide ;
Abiding pure, when th' ayre is most corrupted ;
Throughout the ayre, her beams dispersing wide,
And when the ayre is tost, not interrupted :

So doth the piercing Soule the body fill,
Being all in all, and all in part diffus'd ;
Indiuisible, incorruptible6 still,
Not forc't, encountred, troubled or confus'd.

And as the sunne aboue, the light doth bring,
Though we behold it in the ayre below ;
So from th' Eternall Light the Soule doth spring,
Though in the body she her powers doe show.

6 In 1598 and 1608 editions, ' vncorruptible.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

HOW THE SOUL DOTH EXERCISE HER POWERS IN THE

BODY.
T) UTas the7 world's sunne doth effects beget,

Diuers, in diuers places euery day ;
Here Autumnes temperature, there Summer's heat,
Here flowry Spring-tide, and there Winter gray :

Eere Euen, there Morne, here Noone, there Day, there

Night;
Melts wax, dries clay, mak[e]s flowrs, som quick,8 som

dead;

Makes the More black, and th' European white,
Th' American tawny, and th' East-Indian red :

So in our little World : this soule of ours,
Being onely one, and to one body tyed,
Doth vse, on diuers obiects diuers powers,
And so are her effects diuersified.

THE VEGETATIUE OR QUICKENING POWER.
T T ER quicttning power in euery liuing part,

Doth as a nurse, or as a mother serue ;
And doth employ her oeconomicke art,
And busie care, her houshold to preserue.

7 ' This ' in 1 599 edition. G.

8 Living. G.

64 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Here she attracts, and there she doth retaine,
There she decocts, and doth the food prepare ;
There she distributes it to euery vaine,
There she expels what she may fitly spare.

This power to Martha may compared be, 9
Which busie was, the hous hold-things to doe ;
Or to a Dry as, liuing in a tree i1
For euen to trees this power is proper too.

And though the Soule may not this power extend
Out of the body, but still vse it there ;
She hath a power which she abroad doth send,
Which views and searcheth all things euery where.

THE POWER OF SENSE.

HT-ffAS power is Sense, which from abroad doth bring
The colour, taste, and touch, and sent? and sound;
The quantitie, and shape of euery thing
Within th' Earth's center, or Heauen's circle found.

9 St. Luke, x. 40, 41. G.

1 On the Dryads Cf. Paus. viii. 4. § 2 Apollon. Rhod. ii. 447,
&c. G.

2 Misprinted ' spring,' but corrected in the errata of 1622 edition,
as above. G.

3 Scent. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 65

This power, in parts made fit, fit obiects takes,
Yet not the things, but forms of things receiues ;
As when a scale in waxe impression makes,
The print therein, but not it selfe it leaues.

And though things sensible be numberlesse,
But onely fiue the Sense? organs be ;
And in those fiue, all things their formes expresse,
Which we can touch, taste, feele, or heare, or see.

These are the windows throgh the which she views
The light of knowledge, which is life's loadstar:
" And yet while she these spectacles doth vse,
" Oft worldly things seeme greater then they are.

SIGHT.
THIRST, the two eyes that haue the seeing power,

Stand as one watchman, spy, or sentinell ;
Being plac'd aloft, within the head's high tower ;
And though both see, yet both but one thing tell.

These mirrors take into their little space

The formes of moone and sun, and euery starre ;

Of euery body and of euery place,

Which with the World's wide armes embraced are

66 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Yet their best obiect, and their noblest vse,
Hereafter in another World will be ;
When God in them shall heauenly light infuse,
That face to face they may their Maker see.

Here are they guides, which doe the body lead,
Which else would stumble in eternal night ;
Here in this world they do much knowledge read,
And are the casements which admit most light :

They are her farthest reaching instrument,
Yet they no beames vnto their obiects send ;
But all the rays are from their obiects sent,
And in the eyes with pointed angles end :

If th' obiects be farre off, the rayes doe meet

In a sharpe point, and so things seeme but small ;
If they be neere, their rayes doe spread and fleet,
And make broad points, that things seeme great withall.

Lastly, nine things to Sight required are ;
The power to see, the light, the visible thing,
Being not too small, too thin, too nigh, too farre,
Cleare space, and time, the forme distinct to bring.

Thus we see how the Soule doth vse the eyes,
As instruments of her quicke power of sight ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 67

Hence do th' Arts opticke and faire painting rise :
Painting, which doth all gentle minds delight.

HEARING.

"XT OW let vs heare how she the Eares imployes :

Their office is the troubled ayre to take,
Which in their mazes formes a sound or noyse,
Whereof her selfe doth true distinction make.

These wickets of the Soule are plac't on hie
Because all sounds doe lightly mount aloft \
And that they may not pierce too violently,
They are delaied with turnes, and windings oft.

For should the voice directly strike the braine,
It would astonish and confuse it much ;
Therfore these plaits and folds the sound restraine,
That it the organ may more gently touch.

As streames, which with their winding banks doe play,
Stopt by their creeks, run softly through the plaine ;
So in th' Eares' labyrinth the voice doth stray,
And doth with easie motion touch the braine.

It is the slowest, yet the daintiest sense ;
For euen the Eares of such as haue no skill,

68 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Perceiue a discord, and conceiue offence ;
And knowing not what is good, yet find the ill.

And though this sense first gentle Musicke found,
Her proper obiect is the speech of men;
But that speech chiefely which God's heraulds sound,
When their tongs vtter what His Spirit did pen.

Our Eyes haue lids, our Eares still ope we see,
Quickly to heare how euery tale is prooued ;
Our Eyes still moue, our Eares vnmoued bee,
That though we hear quick we be not quickly moued.

Thus by the organs of the Eye and Eare,

The Soule with knowledge doth her selfe endue ;
" Thus she her prison, may with pleasure beare,
" Hauing such prospects, all the world to view.

These conduit-pipes of knowledge feed the Mind,
But th' other three attend the Body still ;
For by their seruices the Soule doth find,
What things are to the body, good or ill.

T

TASTE.

HE bodies life with meats and ayre is fed,
Therefore the soule doth vse the tasting power,

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 69

In veines, which through the tongue and palate spied,
Distinguish euery relish, sweet and sower.

This is the bodie's nurse; but since man's wit
Found th' art of cookery, to delight his sense ;
More bodies are consum'd and kild with it,
Then with the sword, famine, or pestilence.

N

SMELLING.

EXT, in the nosthrils she doth vse the smell:
As God the breath of life in them did giue,
So makes He now this power in them to dwell,
To iudge all ayres, whereby we breath and line.

This sense is also mistresse of an Art,

Which to soft people sweete perfumes doth sell ;
Though this deare Art doth little good impart,
" Sith 4 they smell best, that doe of nothing smell.

And yet good sents 5 doe purifie the braine,
Awake the fancie, and the wits refine ;
Hence old Deiwtion, incense did ordaine
To make mens' spirits apt for thoughts diuine.

4 In 1599 and 1608 editions, ' since,' as before. G.
' Scents. G.

70 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

FEELING.

T ASTLY, the feeling power, which is Life's root,
Through euery liuing part it selfe doth shed ;
By sinewes, which extend from head to foot,
And like a net, all ore the body spred.

Much like a subtill spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide ;
If ought doe touch the vtmost thred of it,
Shee feeles it instantly on euery side.

By Touch, the first pure qualities we learne,

Which quicken all things, hote, cold, moist and dry ;
By Touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we doe discerne ;
By Touch, sweet pleasure, and sharpe paine, we try.

'"PHESE are the outward instruments of Sense,

These are the guards which euery thing must passe
Ere it approch the mind's intelligence,
Or touch the Fantasie, Wit's looking-glasse.

THE IMAGINATION OR COMMON SENSE.

A ND yet these porters, which all things admit,

Themselues perceiue not, nor discerne the things ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

One common power doth in the forehead sit,
Which all their proper formes together brings.

For all those nei-ues, which spirits of Sence doe beare,
And to those outward organs spreading goe ;
Vnited are, as in a center there,
And there this power those sundry formes doth know.

Those outward organs present things receiue,
This inward Sense doth absent things retaine ;
Yet straight transmits all formes shee doth perceiue,
Vnto a higher region of the braine.

THE FANTASIE.

\^\ T HERE Fantasie, neere hand-maid to the mind,
Sits and beholds, and doth discerne them6 all ;
Compounds in one, things diuers in their kind ;
Compares the black and white, the great and small.

Besides, those single formes she doth esteeme,
And in her ballance doth their values trie ;
Where some things good, and some things ill doe seem,
And neutrall some, in \\etfantasticke1 eye.

6 Misprinted ' then ' in 1622 edition, but as above correctly in 1599
and 1608 editions. G.

7 Misprinted ' Fancasticke ' in 1622 edition. G.

72 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

This busie power is working day and night ;
For when the outward senses rest doe take,
A thousand dreames, fantasticall and light,
With fluttring wings doe keepe her still awake.8

THE SENSITIUE MEMORIE.

"V^ET alwayes all may not afore her bee ;

Successiuely, she this and that intends ;
Therefore such formes as she doth cease to see,
To Memories large volume shee commends.

The lidger-booke lies in the braine behinde,
Like Janus' eye, which in his poll was set ;
The lay-man's tables, store-house of the mind,
Which doth remember much, and much forget.

Heere Sense's apprehension, end doth take ;
As when a stone is into water cast,
One circle doth another circle make,
Till the last circle touch the banke at last.9

8 Cf. Milton's II Penseroso, lines 5 — 10. G.

9 Cf. Phineas Fletcher : Purple Island c. v., stanza 47. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 73

THE PASSIONS OF SENSE.

"OUT though the apprehensiue1 power doe pause,

The motiue vertue then begins to moue ;
Which in the heart below doth PASSIONS cause,
loy, grief e, andfeare, and hope, and hate, and loue.

These passions haue a free commanding might,
And diuers actions in our life doe breed ;
For, all acts done without true Reason's light,
Doe from the passion of the Sense proceed.

But sith2 the braine doth lodge the powers of Sense,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring ?
The mutuall loue, the kind intelligence
'Twixt heart and braine, this sympathy doth bring.

From the kind heat, which in the heart doth raigne,
The spirits of life doe their begining take ;
These spirits of life ascending to the braine,
When they come there, the spirits of Sense do make.

These spirits of Sense, in Fantasie's High Court,
ludge of the formes of obiects, ill or well ;

1 Misprinted ' apprehension ;' corrected in the errata of 1622 edition
from 1599 and 1608 editions. G.

2 In 1599 and 1608 editions ' since,' as before. G.

74 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

And so they send a good or ill report
Downe to the heart, where all affections dwell.

If the report bee good, it causeth loue,
And longing hope, and well-assured toy :
If it bee ill, then doth it hatred moue,
And trembling feare, and vexing grief ^s annoy.

Yet were these naturall affections good :

(For they which want them, blockes or deuils be)
If Reason in her first perfection stood,
That she might Nature's passions rectifie.

THE MOTION OF LIFE.
T) ESIDES, another motiue-power doth rise

Out of the heart ; from whose pure blood do spring
The vitall spirits ; which, borne in arteries,
Continuall motion to all parts doe bring.

THE LOCALL MOTION.

'"PHIS makes the pulses beat, and lungs respire,
This holds the sinewes like a bridle's reines ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 75

And makes the Body to aduance, retire,

To turne or stop, as she them3 slacks, or straines.

Thus the souk tunes the bodies instrument ;

These harmonies she makes with life and sense ;

The organs fit are by the body lent,

But th' actions flow from the Scute's influence.

THE INTELLECTUALL POWERS OF THE SOULE.

UT now I haue a will, yet want a wit,
To expresse the working of the wit and will ;
Which, though their root be to the body knit,
Vse not the body, when they vse their skill.

These powers the nature of the Soule declare,
For to man's souk these onely proper bee ;
For on the Earth no other wights there are
That haue these heauenly powers, but only we.

T^

THE WIT OR UNDERSTANDING.

WIT, the pupill of the Soulfs cleare eye,
And in man's world, the onely shining starre ;

3 Misprinted 'them* in 1622 edition, corrected as above from 1599
and 1608 editions. G.

76 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Lookes in the mirror of the Fantasie,
Where all the gatherings of the Senses are.

From thence this power the shapes of things abstracts,
And them within \&T passive part receiues ;
Which are enlightned by that part which acts,
And so the formes of single things perceiues.

But after, by discoursing to and fro,
Anticipating, and comparing things ;
She doth all vniversall natures know,
And all effects into their causes brings.4

REASON, VNDERSTANDING.

"\ 1 T HEN she rates things and moues from ground to

ground,

The name of. Reason she obtaines by this ;
But when by Reason she the truth hath found,
And standeth fat, she VNDERSTANDING is.

OPINION, JUDGEMENT.

"\ I 7 HEN her assent she lightly doth encline
To either part, she is OPINION 5 light :

4 Thomas Davies, as before, mis-prints ' bring.' G.

» Thomas Davies and Southey, as before, read 'opinion's light :'

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 77

But when she doth by principles define

A certaine truth, she hath true Judgement' *s sight.

And as from Senses, Reasoris worke doth spring,
So many reasons understanding gaine ;
And many understandings, knowledge bring ;
And by much knowledge, wisdome we obtaine.

So, many stayres we must ascend vpright
Ere we attaine to Wisdome 'j high degree ;6
So doth this Earth eclipse our Reason's light.
Which else (in instants) would like angels see.

Yet hath the Soule a dowrie naturall,

And sparkes of light, some common things to see ;
Not being a blancke where nought is writ at all,
But what the writer will, may written be

For Nature in man's heart her lawes doth pen ;
Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will;
Which doe accuse, or else excuse all men,
For euery thought or practise, good or ill :

but in all the Author's editions it is as above = light opinion : or
query is ' hight ' = named, meant ? G.
1 Davies, as before, ' decree.' G.

78 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

And yet these sparkes grow almost infinite,
Making the World, and all therein their food ;
As fire so spreads as no place holdeth it,
Being nourisht still, with new supplies of wood.

And though these sparkes were almost quencht with sin,
Yet they whom that lust One hath iustifide j
Haue them encreasd with heauenly light within,
And like the widow Js oyle still multiplide.

THE POWER OF WILL.

A ND as this wit should goodnesse truely know,

We haue a Will, which that true good should chuse ;
Though Wil do oft (when wit false formes doth show)
Take ill for good, and good for ill refuse.

THE RELATIONS BETWIXT WIT AND WILL.

puts in practice what the Wit deuiseth :
Will euer acts, and Wit contemplates still ;
And as from Wit, the power of wisedome riseth,
All other vertues daughters are of Witt.

Will is the prince, and Wit the counseller,
Which doth for common good in Counsell sit ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 79

And when Wit is resolu'd, Will lends her power
To execute what is aduis'd by Wit.

Wit is the mind's chief iudge, which doth controule
Of Fancies Court the Judgements, false and vaine ;
Will holds the royall septer in the soule
And on7 the passions of the heart doth raigne.

Will is as free as any emperour,
Naught can restraine her gentle libertie ;
No tyrant, nor no torment, hath the power,
To make vs will, when we vnwilling bee.

THE INTELLECTUALL MEMORIE.

'"PO these high powers, a store-house doth pertaine,

Where they all arts and generall reasons lay ;
Which in the Soule, euen after death, remaine
And no Lethaari*" flood can wash away.

This is the Soule, and these her vertues bee ;
Which, though they haue their sundry proper ends,
And one exceeds another in degree,
Yet each on other mutually depends.

7 Here = o'er as on page 61 ante. G.

8 =forgetfulness : from Lethe. G.

8o OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Our Wit is giuen, Almighty God to know ;
Our Will is giuen to loue Him, being knowne ;
But God could not be known to vs below,
But by His workes which through the sense are shown.

And as the Wit doth reape the fruits of Sense,
So doth the quickning power the senses feed;
Thus while they doe their sundry gifts dispence,
" The best, the seruice of the least doth need.

Euen so the King his Magistrates do serue,
Yet Commons feed both magistrate and king ;
The Commons' peace the magistrates preserue
By borrowed power, which from the Prince doth spring.

The quickning power would be, and so would rest ;
The Sense would not be onely, but be well ;
But Wifs ambition longeth to the best,
For it desires in endlesse blisse to dwell.

And these three powers, three1 sorts of men doe make :
For some, like plants, their veines doe onely fill ;
And some, like beasts, their senses' pleasure take ;
And some, like angels, doe contemplate still.

1 A numeral ' 3 ' here, and in the next stanza but one. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 81

Therefore the fables turnd some men to flowres,
And others, did with bruitish formes inuest ;
And did of others, make celestiall powers,
Like angels, which still trauell, yet still rest.

Yet these three powers are not three sou/es, but one ;
As one and two are both containd in three ;
Three being one number by it selfe alone :
A shadow of the blessed Trinitie.

O

AN ACCLAMATION.

! what is Man (great Maker of mankind !)
That Thou to him so great respect dost beare !
That Thou adornst him with so bright a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and euen an angel's peere !

O ! what a liuely life, what heauenly power,
What spreading vertue, what a sparkling fire !
How great, how plentifull, how rich a dower
Dost Thou within this dying flesh inspire !

Thou leau'st Thy print in other works of Thine,
But Thy whole image Thou in Man hast writ ;
There cannot be a creature more diuine,
Except (like Thee) it should be infinit.

82 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

But it exceeds man's thought, to thinke how hie
God hath raisd Man, since God a man became ;
The angels doe admire this Misterie,
And are astonisht when they view the same.

THAT THE SOULE is IMMORTAL, AND CANNOT DIE.

"XT OR hath He giuen these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the bodie's life depend ;
The Soule though made in time, suruives for aye,
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.

Her onely end, is neuer-ending blisse ;
Which is, ttt eternall face of God to see;
Who Last of Ends, and First of Causes, is :
And to doe this, she must eternall bee.

How senselesse then, and dead a soule hath hee,
Which thinks his soule doth with his body die !
Or thinkes not so, but so would haue it bee,
That he might sinne with more securitie.

For though these light and vicious persons say,
Our Soule is but a smoake, or ayrie blast ;
Which, during life, doth in our nostrils play,
And when we die, doth turne to wind at last :

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 83

Although they say, lCome let us eat and drinke';
Our life is but a sparke, which quickly dies ;
Though thus they say, they know not what to think,
But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.

Therefore no heretikes desire to spread
Their light opinions, like these Epicures:12
For so the staggering thoughts are comforted,
And other men's assent their doubt assures.

Yet though these men against their conscience striue,
There are some sparkles in their flintie breasts
Which cannot be extinct, but still reuiue ;
That though they would, they cannot quite bee beasts;

But who so makes a mirror of his mind,

And doth with patience view himselfe therein,
His Soule's eternitie shall clearely find,
Though th' other beauties be defac't with sin.

REASON I.
DRAWNE FROM THE DESIRE OF KNOWLEDGE.

THIRST in Marts mind we find an appetite

To learne and know the truth of euery thing ;

2 = disciples of Epicurus's Philosophy. G.

84 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Which is co-naturall, and borne with it,
And from the essence of the soule doth spring.

With this desire, shee hath a natiue might
To find out euery truth, if she had time ;
Th' innumerable effects to sort aright,
And by degrees, from cause to cause to clime.

But sith our life so fast away doth slide,
As doth a hungry eagle through the wind,
Or as a ship transported with the tide ;
Which in their passage leaue no print behind ;

Of which swift little time so much we spend,

While some few things we through the sense doe straine;
That our short race of life is at an end,
Ere we the principles of skill attaine.

Or God (which to vaine ends hath nothing done)
In vaine this appetite and power hath giuen ;
Or else our knowledge, which is here begun,
Hereafter must bee perfected in heauen.

God neuer gaue a power to one whole kind,
But most part of that kind did vse the same ;
Most eies haue perfect sight, though some be blind ;
Most legs can nimbly run, though some be lame :

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 85

But in this life no souk the truth can know
So perfectly, as it hath power to doe ;
If then perfection be not found below,
An higher place must make her mount thereto.

REASON II.
DRAWN FROM THE MOTION OF THE SOULE.

A GAINE how can shee but immortall bee ?

When with the motions of both Will and Wit,
She still aspireth to eternitie,
And neuer rests, till she attaine to it ?

Water in conduit pipes, can rise no higher

Then the wel-head, from whence it first doth spring
Then sith to eternall GOD shee doth aspire,
Shee cannot be but an eternall thing.

" All mouing things to other things doe moue,

" Of the same kind, which shews their nature such •
So earth falls downe and fire doth mount aboue,
Till both their proper elements doe touch.

THE SOUL COMPARED TO A RIUER.

And as the moysture, which the thirstie earth
Suckes from the sea, to fill her emptie veines,

86 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

From out her wombe at last doth take a birth,
And runs a Nymph? along the grassie plaines :

Long doth shee stay, as loth to leaue the land,
From whose soft side she first did issue make ;
Shee tastes all places, turaes to euery hand,
Her flowry bankes vnwilling to forsake :

Yet Nature so her streames doth lead and carry,
As that her course doth make no finall stay,
Till she her selfe vnto the Ocean marry,
Within whose watry bosome first she lay :

Euen so the Soule which in this earthly mold
The Spirit of God doth secretly infuse ;
Because at first she doth the earth behold,
And onely this materiall world she viewes :

At first her mother-earth she holdeth deare,

And doth embrace the world and worldly things
She flies close by the ground, and houers here,
And mounts not vp with her celestiall wings.

3 Davies and Southey, as before, have the extraordinary misprint
here of ' lymph.' Cf. ' Orchestra,' stanza 63, which explains the
personification. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 87

Yet vnder heauen she cannot light on ought
That with her heauenly nature doth agree ;
She cannot rest, she cannot fix her thought,
She cannot in this world contented bee :

For who did euer yet, in honour, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find ?
Who euer ceasd to wish, when he had health ?
Or hauing wisedome was not vext in mind ?

Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,

Which seeme sweet flowers, with lustre fresh and gay ;

She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all,

But pleasd with none, doth rise, and soare away ;

So, when the Souk finds here no true content,
And, like Noahs doue, can no sure footing take ;
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flies to Him that first her wings did make.

Wit, seeking Truth, from cause to cause ascends,
And neuer rests, till it \hzfirst attaine :
Will, seeking Good, finds many middle ends,
But neuer stayes, till it the last doe gaine.

Now God, the Truth, and First of Causes is :
God is the Last Good End, which lasteth still ;

88 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Being Alpha and Omega nam'd for this ;
Alpha to Wit, Omega to the Will.

Sith4 then her heauenly kind shee doth bewray,
In that to God she doth directly moue ;
And on no mortall thing can make her stay,
She cannot be from hence, but from aboue.

And yet this First True Cause, and Last Good End,
Shee cannot heere so well, and truely see ;
For this perfection shee must yet attend,
Till to her Maker shee espoused bee.

As a king's daughter, being in person sought
Of diuers princes, who doe neighbour neere ;
On none of them can fixe a constant thought,
Though shee to all doe lend a gentle eare :

Yet she can loue a forraine emperour,

Whom of great worth and power she heares to be ;
If she be woo'd but by embassadour,
Or but his letters, or his pictures see :

For well she knowes, that when she shalbe brought
Into the kingdome where her Spouse doth raigne ;

4 In 1599 and 1608 editions, 'since,' as before. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

Her eyes shall see what she conceiu'd in thought,
Himselfe, his state, his glory, and his traine.

So while the virgin Soule on Earth doth stay,
She woo'd and tempted is ten thousand wayes,
By these great powers, which on the Earth beare sway
The wisdom of the World, wealth, pleasure, praise :

With these sometime she doth her time beguile,
These doe by fits her Fantasie possesse ;
But she distastes them all within a while,
And in the sweetest finds a tediousnesse.

But if upon the World's Almighty King

She once doe fixe her humble louing thought ;
Who by His picture, drawne in euery thing,
And sacred messages, her loue hath sought ;

Of Him she thinks, she cannot thinke too much ;
This hony tasted still, is euer sweet ;
The pleasure of her rauisht thought is such,
As almost here, she with her blisse doth meet :

But when in Heauen she shall His Essence see,
This is her soueraigne good, and perfect blisse :
Her longings, wishings, hopes all finisht be,
Her ioyes are full, her motions rest in this :

90 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

There is she crownd with garlands of content,
There doth she manna eat, and nectar drinke ;
That Presence doth such high delights present,
As neuer tongue could speake, nor heart could thinke.

REASON III.

FROM CONTEMPT OF DEATH IN THE BETTER SORT
OF SPIRITS.

T7 OR this the better Souks doe oft despise

The bodie's death, and doe it oft desire ;
For when on ground, the burdened ballance lies
The emptie part is lifted vp the higher :

But if the bodie's death the soule should kill,
Then death must needs against her nature bee ;
And were it so, all soules would flie it still,

" For Nature hates and shunnes her contrary.

For all things else, which Nature makes to bee,
Their being to preserue, are chiefly taught ;
And though some things desire a change to see,
Yet neuer thing did long to turne to naught.

If then by death the soule were quenched quite,
She could not thus against her nature runne ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 91

Since euery senselesse thing, by Nature's light,
Doth preservation seeke, destruction shunne.

Nor could the World's best spirits so much erre,
If death tooke all — that they should all agree,
Before this life, their honour to preferre ;
For what is praise to things that nothing bee ?

Againe, if by the bodie's prop she stand ;
If on the bodie's life, her life depend ;
As Meleager's on the fatall brand5, —
The bodie's good shee onely would intend :

We should not find her half so braue and bold,
To leade it to the Warres and to the seas j
To make it suffer watchings, hunger, cold,
When it might feed with plenty, rest with ease.

Doubtlesse all Souks have a summing thought ;
Therefore of death we thinke with quiet mind ;
But if we thinke of being turrid to nought,
A trembling horror in our soules we find.

5 Apollod i., 8, § 2, et alibi: Ovid, Met. viii., 450; et seq : 531
Diod. iv., 34. G.

92 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

REASON IV.

FROM THE FEARE OF DEATH IN THE WICKED
SOULES.

A ND as the better spirit, when shee doth beare
A scorne of death, doth shew she cannot die ;
So when the wicked Souk Death's face doth feare,
Euen then she proues her owne eternitie.

For when Death's forme appeares, she feareth not
An vtter quenching or extinguishment ;
She would be glad to meet with such a lot,
That so she might all future ill preuent :

But shee doth doubt what after may befall ;
For Nature's law accuseth her within •
And saith, Tis true that is affirm'd by all,
That after death there is a painefor sin.

Then she which hath bin hud-winkt from her birth,
Doth first her selfe within Death's mirror see ;
And when her body doth returne to earth,
She first takes care, how she alone shall bee.

Who euer sees these irreligious men,

With burthen of a sicknesse weake and faint ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 93

But heares them talking of Religion then,
And vowing of their souks to euery saint ?

When was there euer cursed atheist brought
Vnto the gibbet f> but he did adore
That blessed Power, which he had set at nought,
Scorn'd and blasphemed all his life before ?

These light vaine persons still are drunke and mad,
With surfettings and pleasures of their youth ;
But at their deaths they are fresh,7 sober, sad
Then they discerne, and then they speake the truth.

If then all Soules, both good and bad, doe teach,
With generall voice, that soules can neuer die ;
'Tis not man's flattering glosse, but Natures speech,
Which, like God^s Oracle, can neuer lie.

REASON V.

FROM THE GENERALL DESIRE OF IMMORTALITIE.

TT ENCE springs that vniuersall strong desire,
Which all men haue of Immortalitie :

6 Spelled in 1622 edition * liebbet,' but in 1599 and 1608 as
above. G.

7 = active, vigorous : an uncommon use of the word. G.

94 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Not some few spirits vnto this thought aspire,
But all mens' minds in this vnited be.

Then this desire of Nature is not vaine,
" She couets not impossibilities ;
" Fond thoughts may fall into some idle braine,
" But one assent of all, is euer wise.

From hence that generall care and study springs,
That launching and progression of the mind;
Which all men haue so much, of future things,
That they no ioy doe in the present find.

From this desire, that maine desire proceeds,
Which all men haue suruiuing Fame to gaine ;
By tombes, by bookes, by memorable deeds :
For she that this desires, doth still remaine.

Hence lastly, springs care of posterities,

For things their kind would euerlasting make ;
Hence is it that old men do plant young trees,
The fruit whereof another age shall take.

If we these rules vnto our selues apply,
And view them by reflection of the mind ;
All these true notes of immortalitie
In our heart's tables we shall written find.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

95

REASON VI.
FROM THE VERY DOUBT AND DISPUTATION OF

IMMORTALITIE.
A ND though some impious wits do questions moue,

And doubt if Soules immortall be, or no ;
That doubt their immortalitie doth proue,
Because they seeme immortall things to know.

For he which reasons on both parts doth bring,
Doth some things mortall, some immortall call ;
Now, if himselfe were but a mortall thing,
He could not iudge immortall things at all.

For when we iudge, our minds we mirrors make :
And as those glasses which materiall bee,
Formes of materiall things doe onely take,
For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see ;

So, when we God and angels do conceiue,
And thinke of truth, which is eternall too ;
Then doe our minds immortall formes receme,
Which if they mortall were, they could not doo :

And as, if beasts conceiu'd what Reason were,
And that conception should distinctly show,
They should the name of reasonable beare ;
For without Reason, none could Reason know :

96 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

So, when the Soule mounts with so high a wing,
As of eternall things she doubts can moue ;
Shee proofes of her eternitie doth bring,
Euen when she striues the contrary to proue.

For euen the thought of immortalitie,

Being an act done without the bodie's ayde ;
Shewes, that her selfe alone could moue and bee,
Although the body in the graue were layde.

THAT THE SOULE CANNOT BE DESTROYED.

A ND if her selfe she can so liuely moue,

And neuer need a forraine helpe to take ;
Then must her motion euerlasting proue,
" Because her selfe she neuer can forsake.

HER CAUSE CEASETH NOT.

But though corruption cannot touch the minde,

By any cause that from it selfe may spring ;
. Some outward cause Fate hath perhaps designd,
Which to the Soule may vtter quenching bring.

SHE HATH NO CONTRARY.

Perhaps her cause may cease, and she may die ;
God is her cause, His Word her Maker was ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.

97

Which shall stand fixt for all eternitie

When Heauen and Earth shall like a shadow passe.

Perhaps some thing repugnant to her kind,
By strong antipathy, the Soule may kill ;
But what can be contrary to the minde,
Which holds all contraries in concord still ?

She lodgeth heat, and cold, and moist, and dry,
And life, and death, and peace, and war together ;
Ten thousand fighting things in her doe lye,
Yet neither troubleth, or disturbeth either.

SHEE CANNOT DIE FOR WANT OF FOOD.

Perhaps for want of food the soule may pine ;

But that were strange, sith all things bad and good,
Sith all God's creature's mortall and diuine,
Sith God Himselfe, is her eternall food.

Bodies are fed with things of mortall kind,
And so are subiect to mortalitie ;
But Truth which is eternall, feeds the mind ;
The Tree of life, which will not let her die.

98 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

VIOLENCE CANNOT DESTROY HER.

Yet violence, perhaps the Soule destroyes :
As lightning, or the sun-beames dim the sight ;
Or as a thunder-clap, or cannons' noyse,
The power of hearing doth astonish quite.

But high perfection to the Soule it brings,
T' encounter things most excellent and high ;
For, when she views the best and greatest things
They do not hurt, but rather cleare her8 eye,

Besides, — as Homer's gods 'gainst armies stand, —
Her subtill forme can through all dangers slide ;
Bodies are captiue, minds endure no band,

" And Will is free, and can no force abide.

TIME CANNOT DESTROY HER.

But lastly, Time perhaps at last hath power

To spend her liuely powers, and quench her light ;
But old god Saturne which doth all deuoure,
Doth cherish her, and still augment her might.

Heauen waxeth old, and all the spheres aboue
Shall one day faint, and their swift motion stay ;

8 Thomas Davies and Southey, as before, misread ' the.' G.

AND THE IMMORTAL1TE THEREOF. 99

And Time it selfe in time shall cease to moue ;
Onely the Soule suruives, and Hues for aye.

" Our Bodies, euery footstep that they make,
" March towards death, vntill at last they die ;
" Whether we worke, or play, or sleepe, or wake,
" Our life doth passe, and with Time's wings doth flie :

But to the Soule Time doth perfection giue,
And ads fresh lustre to her beauty still ;
And makes her in eternall youth to Hue,
Like her which nectar to the gods doth fill.9

The more she Hues, the more she feeds on Truth;
The more she feeds, her strength doth more increase
And what is strength, but an effect of youth ?
Which if Time nurse, how can it euer cease ?

OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE IMMORTALITIE OF THE
SOULE.

T) UT now these Epicures begin to smile,

And say, my doctrine is more false then true ;
And that I fondly doe my selfe beguile,
While these receiu'd opinions I ensue.

9 Hebe. G.

ioo OF THE SOULE OF MAN

OBJECTION I.

OR what, say they, doth not the Soule waxe old ?

How comes it then that aged men doe dote ;
And that their braines grow sottish, dull and cold,
Which were in youth the onely spirits of note ?

What ? are not Soules within themselues corrupted ?
How can there idiots then by nature bee ?
How is it that some wits are interrupted,
That now they dazeled are, now clearely see ?

ANSWERE.

r I ^HESE questions make a subtill argument,

To such as thinke both sense and reason one ;
To whom nor agent, from the instrument,
Nor power of working, from the work is known.

But they that know that wit can shew no skill,
But when she things in Sense's glasse doth view ;
Doe know, if accident this glasse doe spill,
It nothing sees, or sees the false for true.

For, if that region of the tender braine,

Where th' inward sense of Fantasie should sit,

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 101

And the outward senses gatherings should retain,
By Nature, or by chance, become vnfit ;

Either at first vncapable it is,
And so few things, or none at all receiues ;
Or mard by accident, which haps amisse
And so amisse it euery thing perceiues.

Then, as a cunning prince that vseth spyes,
If they returne no newes doth nothing know ;
But if they make aduertisement of lies,
The Prince's Counsel all awry doe goe.

Euen so the Soule to such a body knit,
Whose inward senses vndisposed be,
And to receiue the formes of things vnfit ;
Where nothing is brought in, can nothing see.

This makes the idiot, which hath yet a mind,
Able to know the truth, and chuse the good ;
If she such figures in the braine did find,
As might be found, if it in temper stood.

But if &phrensie doe possesse the braine,

It so disturbs and blots the formes of things ;
As Fantasie prooues altogether vaine,
And to the Wit no true relation brings.

102

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Then doth the Wit, admitting all for true,

Build fond1 conclusions on those idle grounds ;
Then doth it flie the good, and ill pursue,
Beleeuing all that this false spie propounds.

But purge the humors, and the rage appease,
Which this distemper in the fansie wrought ;
Then shall the Wit, which never had disease,
Discourse, and iudge discreetly, as it ought

So, though the clouds eclipse the sunne's faire light,
Yet from his face they doe not take one beame ;
So haue our eyes their perfect power of sight,
Euen when they looke into a troubled streame.

Then these defects in Senses' organs bee,
Not in the soule or in her working might ;
She cannot lose her perfect power to see,
Thogh mists and clouds do choke her window light.

These imperfections then we must impute,
Not to the agent but the instrument ;
We must not blame Apollo, but his lute,
If false accords from her false strings be sent

1 Foolish. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 103

The Souk in all hath one intelligence ;

Though too much moisture in an infant's braine,
And too much drinesse in an old man's sense,
Cannot the prints of outward things retaine :

Then doth the Soule want worke, and idle sit,
And this we childishnesse and dotage call ;
Yet hath she then a quicke and actiue Wit,
If she had stuffe and tooles to worke withall :

For, giue her organs fit, and obiects faire ;

Giue but the aged man, the young man's sense ;

Let but Medea, SEsoris youth repaire,2

And straight she shewes her wonted excellence.

As a good harper stricken farre in yeares,
Into whose cunning hand the gowt is fall f
All his old crotchets in his braine he beares,
But on his harpe playes ill, or not at all.

But if Apollo takes his gowt away,

That hee his nimble fingers may apply ;

Apollo's selfe will enuy at his play,

And all the world applaud his minstralsie.

" Ovid, Met. vii. 163, 250 et alibi. G.
3 Sic : and also onward. G.

104

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Then dotage is no weaknesse of the mind,
But of the Sense; for if the mind did waste,
In all old men we should this wasting find,
When they some certaine terme of yeres had past :

But most of them, euen to their dying howre,
Retaine a mind more liuely, quicke, and strong ;
And better vse their vnderstanding power,
Then when their braines were warm, and lims were
yong.

For, though the body wasted be and weake,
And though the leaden forme of earth it beares ;
Yet when we heare that halfe-dead body speake,
We oft are rauisht to the heauenly spheares.

OBJECTION II.

"X/ET say these men, If all her organs die,

Then hath the soule no power her powers to vse ;
So, in a sort, her powers extinct doe lie,
When vnto act shee cannot them reduce.

And if her powers be dead, then what is shee ?
For sith from euery thing some powers do spring,
And from those powers, some acts proceeding bee,
Then kill both power and act, and kill the thing.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 105

ANSWERE.

T\OUBTLESSE the bodie's death when once it dies,

The instruments of sense and life doth kill ;
So that she cannot vse those faculties,
Although their root rest in her substance still.

But (as the body liuing) Wit and Will
Can iudge and chuse, without the bodie's ayde ;
Though on such obiects they are working still,
As through the bodie's organs are conuayde :

So, when the body serues her turne no more,
And all her Senses are extinct and gone,
She can discourse of what she learn'd before,
In heauenly contemplations, all alone.

So, if one man well on a lute doth play,

And haue good horsemanship, and Learning's skill ;
Though both his lute and horse we take away,
Doth he not keep his former learning still ?

He keepes it doubtlesse, and can vse it to[o] ;
And doth both th' other skils in power retaine ;
And can of both the proper actions doe,
If with his lute or horse he meet againe.

io6

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

So (though the instruments by which we Hue,
And view the world, the bodie's death doe kill ;)4
Yet with the body they shall all reuiue,
And all their wonted offices fulfill.

OBJECTION III.
TiUThow, till then, shall she herselfe imploy?

Her spies are dead which brought home newes

before ;

What she hath got and keepes, she may enioy,
But she hath meanes to vnderstand no more.

Then what do those poore soules, which nothing get ?
Or what doe those which get, and cannot keepe ?
Like buckets5 bottomlesse, which all out-let
Those Soulcs, for want of exercise, must sleepe.

ANSWERE.
O EE how man's Soule against it selfe doth striue :

Why should we not haue other meanes to know ?
As children while within the wombe they Hue,
Feed by the nauill : here they feed not so.

4 The parenthetic marks are as supra : but perhaps they ought to
begin at ' by ' and end with ' world.' G.

5 Davies and Southey, as before, oddly misprint ' bucklers.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 107

These children, if they had some vse of sense,

And should by chance their mothers' talking heare ;
That in short time they shall come forth from thence,
Would feare their birth more then our death we feare.

They would cry out, ' If we this place shall leaue,
Then shall we breake our tender nauill strings ;
How shall we then our nourishment receiue,
Sith our sweet food no other conduit brings ? '

And if a man should to these babes reply, .

That into this faire world they shall be brought ;
Where they shall see the Earth, the Sea, the Skie,
The glorious Sun, and all that God hath wrought :

That there ten thousand dainties they shall meet,

Which by their mouthes they shall with pleasure take ;
Which shall be cordiall too, as wel as sweet,
And of their little limbes, tall bodies make :

This would6 they thinke a fable, euen as we
Doe thinke the story of the Golden Age;

6 Misprinted ' world,' but corrected in the errata of 1622 edition.
Davies and Southey, as before, repeat the misprint, and accommo-
date ' they ' to it by reading ' they'd :' so rare is it to recur to an
author's own text. G.

io8 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Or as some sensuall spirits amongst vs bee,
Which hold the world to come, a famed stage :

Yet shall these infants after find all true,

Though then thereof they nothing could conceiue ;
As soone as they are borne, the world they view,
And with their mouthes, the nurses'-milke receiue.

So, when the Soule is borne (for Death is nought
But the Soule's birth, and so we should it call)
Ten thousand things she sees beyond her thought,
And in an vnknowne manner knowes them all.

Then doth she see by spectacles no more,
She heares not by report of double spies ;
Her selfe in instants doth all things explore,
For each thing present, and before her, lies.

OBJECTION IV.

T) UT still this crue with questions me pursues :
If soules deceas'd (say they) still liuing bee ;
Why do they not return, to bring vs newes
Of that strange world, where they such wonders see ?7

' Tell us, ye dead, will none of you in pity,
To those you left behind, disclose the secret ?

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF 109

ANSWERS.

men ! If we beleeue that men doe Hue
Vnder the Zenith of both frozen Poles ,
Though none come thence aduertisement to giue ;
Why beare we not the like faith of our soules ?

The soule hath here on Earth no more to doe,
Then we haue businesse in our mother's wombe ;
What child doth couet to returne thereto ?
Although all children first from thence do come ?

But as Noah's pidgeon, which return'd no more,
Did shew, she footing found, for all the Flood ;
So when good soules, departed through Death's dore,
Come not againe, it shewes their dwelling good.

And doubtlesse, such a soule as vp doth mount,
And doth appeare before her Maker's Face ;
Holds this vile world in such a base account,
As she looks down, and scorns this wretched place.

Oh ! that some courteous ghost would blab it out ;
"What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be.'

ROBERT BLAIR: 'The Grave.' G.
8 Foolish. G.

no

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

But such as are detruded downe to Hell,

Either for shame, they still themselues retire ;
Or tyed in chaines, they in close prison dwell,
And cannot come, although they much desire.

OBJECTION V.

\~\TELL, well, say these vaine spirits, though vaine

it is

To thinke our Soules to Heauen or Hell to9 goe,
Politike men haue thought it not amisse,
To spread this lye, to make men vertuous so.

ANSWERE.

T^V OE you then thinke this morall vertue good ?

I thinke you doe, euen for your priuate gaine ;
For Common-wealths by vertue euer stood,
And common good the priuate doth containe.

If then this vertue you doe loue so well,

Haue you no meanes, her practise to maintaine ;
Bnt you this lye must to the people tell,
That good Soules Hue in ioy, and ill in paine ?

In 1599 and 1608 editions, 'do.' G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. in

Must vertue be presented by a lye ?
Vertue and Truth do euer best agree ;
By this it seemes to be a veritie,
Sith the effects so good and vertuous bee.

For, as the deuill father is of lies,

So vice and mischiefe doe his lyes ensue ;
Then this good doctrine did not he deuise,
But made this lye, which saith it is not true.

THE GENERALL CONSENT OF ALL.

OR how can that be false, which euery tongue

Of euery mortall man affirmes for true ?
Which truth hath in all ages been so strong,
As lodestone-like, all hearts it euer drew.

For, not the Christian, or the lew alone,

The Persian, or the Turke, acknowledge this ;
This mysterie to the wild Indian knowne,
And to the Canniball and Tartar is.

This rich Assyrian drugge growes euery where ;
As common in the North, as in the East;
This doctrine does not enter by the eare,
But of it selfe is natiue in the breast.

H2 OF THE SOULE OF MAN

None that acknowledge God, or prouidence,
Their Soule's eteraitie did euer doubt ;
For all Religion takes her root from hence,
Which no poore naked nation liues without.

For sith the World for Man created was,
(For onely Man the vse thereof doth know)
If man doe perish like a withered grasse,
How doth God's Wisedom order things below ?

And if that Wisedom still wise ends propound,
Why made He man, of other creatures King ?
When (if he perish here) there is not found
In all the world so poor and vile a thing ?

If death do quench vs quite, we haue great wrong,
Sith for our seruice all things else were wrought ;
That dawes, and trees, and rocks, should last so long,
When we must in an instant passe to nought.

But blest be that Great Power, that hath vs blest
With longer life then Heauen or Earth can haue ;
Which hath infus'd into our mortall breast
Immortall powers, not subiect to the graue.

For though the Soule doe seeme her graue to beare,
And in this world is almost buried quick ;

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 113

We haue no cause the bodie's death to feare,
For when the shell is broke, out comes a chick.

THREE KINDS OF LIFE ANSWERABLE TO THE THREE
POWERS OF THE SOULE.

OR as the souk's essentiall powers are three,
The quickning power, the power of sense and reason ;
Three kinds of life to her designed bee,
Which perfect these three1 powers in their due season.

The first life, in the mother's wombe is spent,
Where she her nursing power doth onely vse ;
Where, when she finds defect of nourishment,
Sh' expels her body, and this world she viewes.

This we call Birth ; but if the child could speake,
He Death would call it ; and of Nature plaine,2
That she would thrust him out naked and weake,
And in his passage pinch him with such paine.

Yet, out he comes, and in this world is plac't,
Where all his Senses in perfection bee ;

1 Numeral '3,* as before, in 1622 edition. G.

2 Id est ' complain.' G.

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

Where he finds flowers to smell, and fruits to taste ;
And sounds to heare, and sundry formes to see.

When he hath past some time vpon this stage,
His Reason then a litle seemes to wake ;
Which, thogh she spring, when sense doth fade with

age,
Yet can she here no perfect practise make.

Then doth th' aspiring Soule the body leaue,

Which we call Death; but were it knowne to all,
What life our soules do by this death receiue,
Men would it birth or gaole 3 deliuery call.

In this third life, Reason will be so bright,

As that her sparke will like the sun-beames shine ;
And shall of God enioy the reall sight.
Being still increast by influence diuine.

AN ACCLAMATION.

r\ IGNORANT poor man ! what dost thou beare
Lockt vp within the casket of thy brest ?

Goale' in 1608 edition. G.

AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF. 115

What iewels, and what riches hast thou there !
What heauenly treasure in so weake a chest !

Looke in thy soule, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drownd Narcissus in the flood ; 4
Honour and Pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that in the world is counted Good.

Thinke of her worth, and think that God did meane,
This worthy mind should worthy things imbrace ;
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts vnclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passions base ;

Kill not her quickning power with surfettings,
Mar not her Sense with sensualitie ;
Cast not her serious5 wit on idle things :
Make not her free-ze////, slaue to vanitie.

And when thou think'st of her eternitie,

Thinke not that Death against her nature is,
Thinke it a birth ; and when thou goest to die,
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to blisse.6

4 See Ovid, Met. HI., 341 et alibi, and Eustathius (ad Horn. p.
266). G.

5 ' Serious ' dropped by Davies and Southey, as before. G.

6 Cf. Sir Thomas Browne : ' Vulgar Errors,' s.v. G.

n6

OF THE SOULE OF MAN

And if thou, like a child, didst feare before,

Being in the darke, where thou didst nothing see ;
Now I haue broght thee torch-light, feare no more ;
Now when thou diest, thou canst not hud-winkt be.

And thou my Soule, which turn'st thy curious eye,
To view the beames of thine owne forme diuine ;
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly,
While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine.

Take heed of ouer-weening, and compare

Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's traine ; 7
Study the best, and highest things that are,
But of thy selfe an humble thought retaine.

Cast downe thy selfe, and onely striue to raise
The glory of thy Maker's sacred Name ;
Vse all thy powers, that Blessed Power to praise,
Which giues thee power to bee, and vse the same.

1 More usually applied to the swan : as ancient WORSHIP puts it
' The whitest swanne hath a blacke foot :' ' Christian's Mourning
Garment.' G.

REMARKS PREFIXED TO NAHUM TATE'S
EDITION (1697) OF 'NOSCE TEIPSUM.'*

'"PHERE is a natural love and fondness in English-
men for whatever was done in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth. We look upon her time as our
golden age ; and the great men who lived in it, as our
chiefest heroes of virtue, and greatest examples of wis-
dom, courage, integrity and learning.

* The Original, Nature, and Immortality of the Soul. A Poem.
With an Introduction concerning Humane Knowledge. Written
by Sir John Davies, Attorney-General to Q. Elizabeth. With a
Prefatory Account concerning the Author and Poem. London,
Printed by W. Rogers at the Sun against St. Dunstan's Church in
Fleet street. 1697' — TATE informs us that the 'Remarks' were
' written by an ingenious and learned Divine ' — It will be noticed
that they finish somewhat abruptly : and while there is ' account '
of the Poem, none of the Author.' — Dr. BLISS, in his edition of
Anthony-a- Wood's ATHENJE, describes above as containing only
the second portion : but he is mistaken : the Poem is given com-
pletely.

ii8 APPENDIX.

Among many others, the author of this poem merits
a lasting honour ; for, as he was a most eloquent law-
yer, so, in the composition of this piece, we admire him
for a good poet and exact philosopher. 'Tis not rhym-
ing that makes a poet, but the true and impartial re-
presenting of virtue and vice, so as to instruct mankind
in matters of greatest importance. And this observa-
tion has been made of our countrymen, That Sir John
Suckling wrote in the most courtly and gentleman-like
style ; Waller in the most sweet and flowing numbers ;
Denham with the most accurate judgment and correct-
ness ; Cowley with pleasing softness and plenty of ima-
gination : none ever uttered more divine thought than
Mr. Herbert ; none more philosophical than Sir John
Davies. His thoughts are moulded into easy and
significant words ; his rhymes never mislead the sense,
but are led and governed by it : so that in reading such
useful performances, the wit of mankind may be refined
from its dross, their memories furnished with the best
notions, their judgments strengthened, and their con-
ceptions enlarged : by which means the mind will be
raised to the most perfect ideas it is capable of in this
degenerate state.

But as others have laboured to carry out our thoughts,
and to entertain them with all manner of delights

APPENDIX.

119

abroad; 'tis the peculiar character of this author, that
he has taught us (with Antoninus) to meditate upon our-
selves ; that he has disclosed to us greater secrets at
home ; self-reflection being the only way to valuable
and true knowledge, which consists in that rare science
of a man's self, which the moral philosopher loses in a
crowd of definitions, divisions and distinctions : the
historian cannot find it among all his musty records,
being far better acquainted with the transactions of a
thousand years past, than with the present age, or with
himself: the writer of fables and romances wanders
from it, in following the delusions of a wild fancy,
chimeras and fictions that do not only exceed the
works, but also the possibility of Nature. Whereas the
resemblance of truth is the utmost limits of poetical
liberty, which our author has very religiously observed ;
for he has not only placed and connected together the
most amiable images of all those powers that are in our
souls, but he has furnished and squared his matter like
a true philosopher ; that is, he has made both body and
soul, colour and shadow of his poem, out of the store-
house of his own mind, which gives the whole work a
real and natural beauty ; when that which is borrowed
out of books, (the boxes of counterfeit complexion)
shews well or ill, as it has more or less likeness to the

120 APPENDIX.

natural. But our author is beholding to none but him-
self; and by knowing himself thoroughly, he has ar-
rived to know much ; which appears in his admirable
variety of well-chosen metaphors and similitudes that
cannot be found within the compass of a narrow know-
ledge. For this reason the poem, on account of its
intrinsic worth, would be as lasting as the Iliad or the
yEneid, if the language 'tis wrote in were as immutable
as that of the Greeks and Romans.

Now it would be of great benefit to the beaus of our
age to carry this glass in their pocket, whereby they
might learn to think rather than dress well. It would
be of use also to the wits and virtuosoes to carry this
antidote against the poison they have sucked in from
Lucretius or Hobbes. This would acquaint them with
some principles of religion ; for in old times the poets
were the divines, and exercised a kind of spiritual au-
thority amongst the people. Verse in those days was
the sacred style, the style of Oracles and Lawes. The
vows and thanks of the people were recommended to
their gods in songs and hymns. Why may they not
retain this priviledge ? for if prose should contend with
verse, it would be upon unequal terms, and (as it were)
on foot against the wings of Pegasus. With what de-
light are we touched in hearing the stories of Hercules,

APPENDIX. 121

Achilles, Cyrus, and ^Eneas ? Because in their charac-
ters we have wisdom, honour, fortitude and justice,
set before our eyes. It was Plato's opinion, that if a
man could see virtue, he would be strangely enamoured
on her person. Which is the reason why Horace and
Virgil have continued so long in reputation, because
they have drawn her in all the charms of poetry. No
man is so senseless of rational impressions, as not to be
wonderfully affected with the pastorals of the ancients,
when under the stories of wolves and sheep, they de-
scribe the misery of people under hard masters, and
their happiness under good. So the bitter and whole-
some lambick was wont to make villainy blush ; the
Satire invited men to laugh at folly; the Comedian
chastised the common errors of life ; and the Tragedian
made kings afraid to be tyrants, and tyrants to be their
own tormentors.

Wherefore, as Sir Philip Sidney said of Chaucer, that
he knew not which he should most wonder at, either that
he in his dark time should see so distinctly, or that we
in this clear age should go so stumblingly after him ;
so may we marvel at and bewail the low condition of
poetry now, when in our Plays scarce any one rule of
decorum is observed, but in the space of two hours and
a half we pass through all the fits of Bedlam ; in one

122 APPENDIX.

scene we are all in mirth, in the next we are all in sad-
ness ; whilst even the most laboured parts are starved
for want of thought ; a confused heap of words, and
empty sound of rhyme.

This very consideration should advance the esteem
of the following poem, wherein are represented the
various movements of the mind ; at which we are as
much transported as with the most excellent scenes of
passion in Shakespear, or Fletcher : for in this, as in a
mirror (that will not flatter) we see how the soul arbi-
trates in the understanding upon the various reports of
sense, and all the changes of imagination : how com-
pliant the will is to her dictates, and obeys her as a
queen does her king : at the same time acknowledging
a subjection, and yet retaining a majesty : how the pas-
sions move at her command, like a well-disciplined
army ; from which regular composure of the faculties,
all operating in their proper time and place, there arises
a complacency upon the whole soul, that infinitely
transcends all other pleasures.

What deep philosophy is this ! to discover the pro-
cess of God's art in fashioning the soul of man after
His own image ; by remarking how one part moves
another, and how those motions are varied by several
positions of each part, from the first springs and plum-

APPENDIX.

123

mets, to the very hand that points out the visible and
last effects. What eloquence and force of wit to con-
vey these profound speculations in the easiest language,
expressed in words so vulgarly received, that they are
understood by the meanest capacities.

For the poet takes care in every line to satisfy the
understandings of mankind : he follows step by step the
workings of the mind, from the first strokes of sense,
then of fancy, afterwards of judgment, into the princi-
ples both of natural and supernatural motives : hereby
the soul is made intelligible, which comprehends all
things besides ; the boundless tracks of sea and land,
and the vaster spaces of heaven ; that vital principle of
action, which has always been busied in enquiries
abroad, is now made known to itself; insomuch that
we may find out what we ourselves are, from whence
we came, and whither we must go ; we may perceive
what noble guests those are, which we lodge in our
bosoms, which are nearer to us than all other things,
and yet nothing further from our acquaintance.

But here all the labyrinths and windings of the
human frame are laid open : 'tis seen by what pullies
and wheels the work is carried on, as plainly as if a
window were opened in the breast : for it is the work of
God alone to create a mind. The next to this is to
shew how its operations are performed.

II. HYMNES OF ASTR^EA.

I27

NOTE.

The following is the original title-page of ( Astroea ' :

HYMNES OF
ASTRCEA, IN
Acrosticke verse

London

Printed for J. S.
1599

[40 pp. 27 : register A. B. C. D. of 4 leaves each.]

Throughout, the Poet spells 'Astroea' : probably Asteria
('Acrre/aia) were more accurate. Our text for these
' Hymnes' is, as in Nosce Teipsum, the edition of 1622 :
but throughout, compared with the first, as supra. Title-
page in 1622 edition is as follows :

HYMNES

of
ASTREA

In Acrosticke Verse.

London

Printed by A. M. for Richard Haivkins.
1622. [8vo.]

With reference to Elizabeth who is so glorified in these
' Hymnes ' as ' Astrsea/ cf. the ' Conference between a
Gentleman-Usher and a Post ' in our Memorial- Intro-

128

NOTE.

duction. I have since found that another copy of this inter-
esting MS. is preserved among the Harleian MSS. : No.
cclxxxvi fol. 248. I would here call attention to the cor-
respondence between the metaphor of the Senses serving
the Intellect in ' Nosce Teipsum ' and in the * Conference '
as flatteringly descriptive of the position held by her
'ministers' to the Queen. In Davison's 'Rhapsody' the
name for Elizabeth is Astrsea. G.

Hymnes to Astrcza.

HYMNE I.

OF ASTRCEA. 1

<§ ARLY before the day doth spring,
H et us awake my Muse, and sing ;
31 t is no time to slumber,
& o many ioyes this time doth bring,
SJ s Time will faile to number.

33 ut whereto shall we bend our layes ?
(fl: uen vp to Heauen, againe to raise2
t& he Mayd. which thence descended ;
C? ath brought againe the golden dayes,
8 nd all the world amended.

E udenesse it selfe she doth refine,
<fl; uen like an Alchymist diuine ;
® rosse times of yron turning
31 nto the purest forme of gold ;
/5 ot to corrupt, till heauen waxe old,
3t nd be refined with burning.

1 Here spelled 4 Astrea.' G. 3 =to praise or exalt. G.

I

130 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YM NE II.

To ASTRCEA.

<ZE TERNALL Virgin, Goddesse true,
H et me presume to sing to you.
3f oue, euen great loue hath leasure
% ometimes to heare the vulgar crue,
8 nd heares them oft with pleasure.

33 lessed Astraa, I in part
<ZE nioy the blessings you impart ;
& he Peace, the milke and hony,
$ umanitie, and civil Art,
91 richer dower then money.

E ight glad am I that now I Hue,

<B uen in these dayes whereto you giue

<$ reat happinesse and glory ;

3f f after you I should be borne,

JI9 o doubt I should my birth-day scorne,

3 dmiring your sweet storie.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA. 131

H YMNE III.
To THE SPRING.

(K ARTH now is greene, and heauen is blew,

H iuely Spring which makes all new,

3( oily Spring, doth enter ;

% weete yong sun-beames doe subdue

%, ngry, aged Winter.

33 lasts are milde, and seas are calme,
dE uery meadow flowes with balme,
Q he Earth weares all her riches ;
$ armonious birdes sing such a psalme,
3 s eare and heart bewitches.

21 eserue (sweet Spring) this Nymph of ours,

<K ternall garlands of thy flowers,

& reene garlands neuer wasting ;

3f n her shall last our State's faire Spring,

JI5 ow and for euer flourishing,

3 s long as Heauen is lasting.

132

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMNE IV.

TO THE MONETH OF MAY.

Q£ ACH day of thine, sweet moneth of May,

H oue makes a solemne holy-day.

3f will performe like duty,

<& ith thou resemblest euery way

& straea, Queen of beauty,

93 oth you fresh beauties do pertake,
© ither's aspect doth Summer make,
£D houghts of young Loue awaking ;
5? earts you both doe cause to ake,
3 nd yet be pleas'd with akeing.

fit ight deare art thou, and so is shee,
<K uen like attractiue sympathy,
& aines vnto both like dearenesse ;
31 weene this made Antiquitie
3® ame thee, sweet May of Matestie,
St s being both like in clearnesse.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMN E V.
To THE LARKE.

<E ARLEY, cheerfull, mounting Larke,
H ight's gentle vsher, Morning's dark,
3f n merry notes delighting •
& tint awhile thy song, and harke,
3 nd learne my new inditing.

33 eare vp this hymne, to heau'n it beare,
<& uen vp to heau'n, and sing it there,
t£ o heau'n each morning beare it ;
fl? aue it set to some sweet sphere,
8 nd let the Angels heare it.

E enownd Astrsea, that great name,

<£ xceeding great in worth and fame,

45 reat worth hath so renownd it ;

3f t is Astraea's name I praise,

1®, ow then, sweet Larke, do thou it raise,

3 nd in high Heauen resound it.

134

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMN E VI .

To THE NIGHTINGALE.

<K UERY night from euen till morne,
H cue's Quirister amidde the thorne
1 s now so sweet a singer ;
€> o sweet, as for her song I scorne
8 polio's voice, and finger.

93 ut Nightingale, sith you delight
QE uer to watch the starry night ;
3D ell all the starres of heauen,
$ eauen neuer had a starre so bright,
3 s now to Earth is giuen.

ffil oyall Astraea makes our day
(ZB ternall with her beames, nor may
& rosse darknesse ouercome her ;
3( now perceiue why some doe write,
JJ5 o countrey hath so short a night,
^J s England hath in Summer.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA. 135

H YMNE VII.
To THE ROSE.

<E YE of the Garden, Queene of flowres,

1 ove's cup wherein he nectar powres,

3f ngendered first of nectar ;

& weet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres,

3 nd Beautie's faire character.

93 est iewell that the Earth doth weare,

<& uen when the braue young sunne draws neare,

*& o her hot Loue pretending j1

$ imselfe likewise like forme doth beare,

91 t rising and descending.

E ose of the Queene of Loue belou'd ;
dE ngland's great Kings diuinely mou'd,
(5 ave Roses in their banner ;
3f t shewed that Beautie's Rose indeed,
K ow in this age should them succeed,
91 nd raigne in more sweet manner.

1 = reaching forward. G.

i36

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMN E VIII.

To ALL THE PRINCES OF EUROPE.

<K UROPE, the earth's sweet Paradise,
H et all thy kings that would be wise,
3! n politique deuotion ;
ft ayle hither to obserue her eyes,
3 nd marke her heaunly motion.

3& raue Princes of this ciuill age,
® nter into this pilgrimage ;
1& his saint's tongue is an oracle,
5) er eye hath made a Prince a page,
3 nd works each day a miracle.

21 aise but your lookes to her, and see
® uen the true beames of maiestie,
& reat Princes, marke her duly ;
31 f all the world you doe suruey,
JI3 o forehead spreades so bright a ray,
a nd notes a Prince so truly.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA. 137

H YM N E IX.
To FLORA.

® MPRESSE of flowers, tell where away
IL ies your sweet Court this merry1 May,
3( n Greenewich Garden allies ?2
& ince there the heauenly powers do play
& nd haunt no other vallies.

93 eautie, vertue, maiestie,
<ZE loquent Muses, three times three,
t£ he new fresh Houres and Graces,
fy aue pleasure in this place to be,
8 boue all other places.

E oses and lillies did them draw,

(0; re they diuine Astrcza saw ;

& ay flowers they sought for pleasure :

31 nstead of gathering crownes of flowers,

J® ow gather they Astraea's dowers,

a nd beare to heauen that treasure,

1 Thomas Davies, as before, drops ' merry.' 2 = alleys. G.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMN E X.

To THE MONETH OF SEPTEMBER.

(K ACH moneth hath praise in some degree ;
H et May to others seeme to be
31 n sense the sweetest Season ;
€& eptember thou art best to me,
a nd best dost please my reason.

98 ut neither for thy corne nor wine

<[E xtoll I those mild dayes of thine,

T& hough corne and wine might praise thee ;

fy eauen giues thee honour more diuine,

8 nd higher fortunes raise thee.

E enown'd art thou (sweet moneth) for this,

<& mong thy dayes her birth-day is ;l

45 race, plenty, peace and honour

31 n one faire hour with her were borne ;

JI2 ow since they still her crowne adorne,

3 nd still attend vpon her.

1 Queen Elizabeth was born on 7th September, 1533. G.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA. 139

H YMN E XI.

To THE SUNNE.

<!B YE of the world, fountaine of light,
H ife of Day, and death of Night ;
3( humbly seek thy kindnesse :
%> weet, dazle not my feeble sight,
& nd strike me not with blindnesse.

93 ehold me mildly from that face,
QE uen where thou now dost run thy race,
® he spheare where now thou turnest ;
^ auing like Phaeton chang'd thy place,
& nd yet hearts onely burnest.

1R ed in her right cheeke thou dost rise,

Q£ xalted after in her eyes,

<& reat glory there thou shewest ;

31 n th' other cheeke when thou descendest,

J® ew rednesse vnto it thou lendest,

3 nd so thy round thou goest

140 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA,

H YM N E XII.
To HER PICTURE.

4B XTREAME was his audacitie,
H ittle his skill, that finisht thee ;
3f am asham'd and sorry,
& o dull her counterfeit should bee,
3 nd she so full of glory.

98 ut here are colours red and white,
(K ach line, and each proportion right ;
® hese lines, this red and whitenesse,
$) aue wanting yet a life and light,
& maiestie, and brightnesse.

a ude counterfeit, I then did erre,

© uen now when I would needs inferre

& reat boldnesse in thy maker ;

31 did mistake, he was not bold,

JQ or durst his eyes her eyes behold :

3 nd this made him mistake her.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

141

H YMN E XIII.

OF HER MlNDE.

<fl; ARTH, now adiew, my rauisht thought

H ifted to Heau'n sets thee at nought ;

3f nfinite is my longing,

$ ecrets of angels to be taught,

SJ nd things to Heau'n belonging.

33 rought downe from heau'n of angels kind,

© uen now doe I admire her mind ;

3D his is my contemplation,

$ er cleare sweet spirit, which is refin'd

91 boue humane creation.

E ich sun-beame of th' ^Eternall light,
© xcellent Souley how shall I wright?1
& ood angels make me able ;
31 cannot see but by your eye,
Jfifc or, but by your tongue, signifie
3 thing so admirable.

1 = write. G.

142 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMNE XI I I I.

OF THE SUN-BEAMES OF HER MlND.

® XCEEDING glorious is the starre,

H et vs behold her beames afarre

31 n a side line reflected ;

& ight bears them not, when neere they are,

& nd in right lines directed.

93 ehold her in her vertues' beames,
(Q: xtending sun-like to all realmes ;
& he sunne none viewes too neerly :
$ er well of goodnes in these streames,
8 ppeares right well and clearely.

E adiant vertues, if your light

(fl; nfeeble the best iudgement's sight,

<S> reat splendor aboue measure

3f s in the mind from whence you flow -,

Jfifc o wit may haue accesse to know,

3 nd view so bright a treasure.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

143

H YM N E XV.

OF HER WIT.

<& YE of that mind most quicke and cleere, —

H ike Heauen's eye, which from his spheare

3f nto all things prieth ;

2> ees through all things euery where,

3 nd all their natures trieth.

93 right image of an angel's wit,
<ZE xceeding sharpe and swift like it,
^D hings instantly discerning ;
fy auing a nature infinit,
8 nd yet increas'd by learning.

B. ebound vpon thy selfe thy light,

<& nioy thine own sweet precious sight

(8 iue us but some reflection ;

31 t is enough for vs if we

J® ow in her speech, now policie,

3 dmire thine high perfection.

144

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

HYMNE XVI.
OF HER WILL.

<E UER well affected will,

H ouing goodnesse, loathing ill,

31 nestimable treasure !

% ince such a power hath power to spill, *

a nd save vs at her pleasure.

38 e thou our law, sweet will, and say
(K uen what thou wilt, we will obay
{& his law, if I could reade it ;
Cl? erein would I spend night and day,
3 nd study still to plead it.

E oyall free-will, and onely/ra-,

© ach other will is slaue to thee ;

<8> lad is each will to serue thee :

31 n thee such princely power is scene,

J® o spirit but takes thee for her Queene,

3 nd thinkes she must obserue thee.

= spoil. G.

HYMNES TO ASTR(EA.

145

H YMNE XVII.
OF HER MEMORIE.

<E XCELLENT iewels would you see,
H ouely ladies ? come with me,
31 will (for loue I owe you).
& hew you as rich a treasurie,
8 s East or West can shew you.

33 ehold, if you can iudge of it,

<ZE uen that great store-house of her wit :

*& hat beautiful large Table,

fy er Memory ; wherein is writ

& 11 knowledge admirable.

fit eade this faire book, and you shall learne

(8; xquisite skill ; if you discerne,

& aine heau'n by this discerning ;

3f n such a memory diuine,

JIS ature did forme the Muses nine,

3 nd Pallas Queene of Learning.

146 HYMNES TO ASTROEA.

H YMNE XVIII.
OF HER PHANTASIE.

(0; XQUISITE curiositie,

IL ooke on thy selfe with iudging eye,

3! f ought be faultie, leaue it ;

S> o delicate a phantasie

8 s this, will straight perceiue it.

33 ecause her temper is so fine,
<ZE ndewed with harmonies diuine ;
3D herefore if discord strike it,
$ er true proportions doe repine,
8 nd sadly do l mislike it.

E ight otherwise a pleasure sweet
<B uer she takes in actions meet,
<2> racing with smiles such meetnesse ;
3f n her faire forehead, beames appeare,
J® o Summer's day is halfe so cleare,
3 dorn'd with halfe that sweetnesse.

1 Misprinted ' to.' G.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

147

H YMNE XIX.
OF THE ORGANS OF HER MINDE.

(K CLIPSED she is, and her bright rayes.
H ie under vailes, yet many wayes
3f s her faire forme reuealed j
& he diuersly her selfe conueyes,
8 nd cannot be concealed.

33 y instruments her powers appeare
<ZE xceedingly well tun'd and cleare :
$ his lute is still in measure,
J^ olds still in tune, euen like a spheare,
3 nd yeelds the world sweet pleasure.

E esolue me, Muse, how this thing is,
® uer a body like to this
& aue Heau'n to earthly creature ?
1 am but fond1 this doubt to make
JI9 o doubt the angels bodies take,
31 bove our common nature.

Foolish. G.

148 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMNE XX.

OF THE PASSIONS OF HER HEART.

Q£ XAMINE not ttt inscrutable heart,

H ight Muse of her, though she in part

3f mpart it to the subiect ;

%> earch not, although from Heau'n thou art,

3 nd this an heauenly obiect.

33 ut since she hath a heart, we know,
<& uer some passions thence doe flow,
*& hough euer rul'd with Honor \
fy er judgment raignes, they waite below,
3 nd fixe their eyes vpon her.

E ectified so, they in their kind
(IB ncrease each vertue of her mind,
& ouern'd with mild tranquilitie ;
3f n all the regions vnder heau'n,
JI3 o State doth beare it selfe so euen,
8 nd with so sweet facilitie.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

149

HYMNE XXI.

OF THE INNUMERABLE VERTUES OF HER MINDE.

<& RE thou proceed in this sweet paines,
H earne Muse how many drops it raines
3f n cold and moist December ;
& um up May flowres, and August graines,
& nd grapes of mild September.

93 eare the Sea's sand in memory,
<K arth's grasses, and the starres in skie ;
® he little moates which mounted,
$ ang, in the beames of Phoebus' eye,
8 nd neuer can be counted.

E ecount these numbers numberlesse,1
<& re thou her vertue canst expresse,
<Q reat wits this count will, cumber.
31 nstruct thy selfe in numbring Schooles ;
J® ow courtiers vse to begge for fooles,
3 11 such as cannot number.

1 Cf. Paradise Regained, iii. 310. G.

150

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

HYMNE XXII.

OF HER WlSDOME.

® [A]GLE-eyed Wisdome, life's loadstarre,
H coking neere on things afarre ;
3f cue's best beloued daughter,
$ howes to her spirit all1 that are,
a s Icue himselfe hath taught her.

38 y this straight rule she rectifies

® ach thought that in [her] heart doth rise

1& his is her cleane true mirror,

$ er lookmg-glasse, wherein she spies

a [11] forms of Truth and Error.

E ight princely vertue fit to raigne,

<[B nthroniz'd in her spirit remaine,

& uiding our fortunes euer j

3f f we this starre once cease to see,

JI9 o doubt our State will shipwrackt bee,

3 nd torne and sunke for euer.

1 In first edition ' things.' G.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

HYMNE XXIII.
OF HER JUSTICE.

<B XIL'D Astraa is come againe,
H o here she doth all things maintaine
31 n number, weight, and measure :
% he rules vs with delightfull paine,
8 nd we obey with pleasure.

93 y Loue she rules more then by Law,
€; uen her great mercy breedeth awe ;
{& his is her sword and scepter :
$ erewith she hearts did euer draw,
a nd this guard euer kept her.

E eward doth sit in her right-hand,
(K ach vertue thence taks her garland
45 ather'd in Honor's garden ;
3f n her left hand (wherein should be
&L ought but the sword) sits Clemency
3 nd conquers Vice with pardon.

i<52 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

HYMNE XXIV.
OF HER MAGNANIMITIE.

® UEN as her State, so is her mind,
H ifted aboue the vulgar kind ;
31 t treades proud Fortune vnder :
S un-like it sits aboue the wind,
8 boue the stormes, and thunder.

33 raue spirit, large heart, admiring nought,
<£ steeming each thing as it ought,
3D hat swelleth not, nor shrinketh ;
$ onour is alwayes in her thought,
8 nd of great things she thinketh.

E ocks, pillars, and heauen's axeltree,
® xemplifie her constancy ;
<8> reat changes neuer change her :
3f n her sexe, feares are wont to rise,
J® ature permits, Vertue denies,
a nd scornes the face of Danger.

HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

153

HYMNE XXV.

OF HER MODERATION.

® MPRESSE of kingdomes though she be,
H arger is her soueraigntie
31 t she her selfe doe gouerne ;
€> ubiect vnto her self is she,
3 nd of her selfe true soueraigne.

98 eautie's crowne though she do weare,
<& xalted into Fortune's chaire,
W hron'd like the Queene of Pleasure ;
fy er vertues still possesse her eare,
3 nd counsell her to measure.

E eason, if shee incarnate were,

(Q; uen Reason's selfe could neuer beare

& reatnesse with moderation ;

3f n her one temper still is scene,

/9 o libertee claimes she as Queene,

3 nd showes no alteration.

154 HYMNES TO ASTRCEA.

H YMNE XXVI.
To ENUY.

® NUY, goe weepe ; my Muse and I
H augh thee to scorne : thy feeble eye
31 s dazeled with the glory
& hining in this gay poesie,
3 nd little golden story.

?S ehold how my proud quill doth shed

® ternall nectar on her head ;

Ob he pompe of coronation

$ ath not such power her fame to spread,

8 s this my admiration.

E espect my pen as free and franke

4E xpecting not reward nor thanke,

45 reat wonder onely moues it ;

3f never made it mercenary,

Jfifc or should my Muse this burthen carrie

3 s hyr'd, but that she loues it.

III. ORCHESTRA.

157

NOTE.

In the Registers of the Stationer's Company, under date
25th June, 1594, a Mr. Harrison entered for copy-right of
* Orchestra' (Notes and Queries 3 S. n., p. 461 : Dec. 13,
'62) : but it was not published till 1596. The following is
the original title-page :

ORCH ESTRA

OR

A POEME ON DAUN-
CING

ludicially prooving the

true observation of time and

measure, in the Authenticall

and laudable use of Daun-

cing.

Ouid. Art. Aman. lib i.
Si vox est, canta : si mollia

brachia, salta

Et quacunque potes dote

placere, place.

AT LONDON :

Printed, by J. Robarts
for N. Ling.

1596.

[i8mo : pp 46 : register A B C of 8 leaves each.]
In the Bodleian copy there is this inscription at top of title-
page " Ex dono Wilti. Burdett, amici sui primo die De-
cembr. 1596 36. E. R."

158 NOTE.

Instead of the after-dedication * To the Prince ' there was
the ' Sonnet ' to Martin which we have placed before it. The
title-page from the edition of 1622 may be added here : —

ORCHESTRA.

OR

A Poeme expressing the An-

tiquitie and Excellencie

OF DAVNCING.

In a Dialogue betweene Penelope

and one of her Wooers.

Not Finished.

LONDON.

Printed by A. M. for Richard Hawkins.
1622. [8vo.]

With reference to * Not finished ' placed on the later title-
page (1622), it is explained by the stanzas restored from the
first edition. These shew that the Poet had intended to
pursue his subject further; even the hitherto omitted stanzas
reading more like a fresh ' invocation ' than a 'conclusion.'

Our text, as with ' Nosce Teipsum,' is from the edition
of 1622 : but compared throughout with above very rare, if
not unique, first edition from the Bodleian. At close, by
recurrence to the original edition we are able to supply the
blanks of all the subsequent editions and reprints. See our
Memorial- Introduction, for explanation of the omission :
and for Sir John Harington's ' Epigram * on * Orches-
tra.' G.

I. TO HIS VERY FRIEND, MA. RICH.
MARTIN. 1

nrO whom shall I this daunting Poem send,

This suddaine, rash, half-capreol2 of my wit ?
To you, first mouer and sole cause of it,
Mine-owne-selues better halfe, my deerest frend.
O, would you yet my Muse some Honny lend
From your mellifluous tongue, whereon doth sit
Suada in Maiestie, that I may fit
These harsh beginnings with a sweeter end.
You know the modest Sunne full fifteene times
Blushing did rise, and blushing did descend,
While I in making of these ill made rimes,
My golden howers unthriftily did spend :

Yet, if in friendship you these numbers prayse,

I will mispend another fifteene dayes.

1 See Memorial-Introduction concerning Martin. G.

2 Cf. st. 68. 1. 6. G.

160 DEDICATION.

II. TO THE PRINCE.1

C IR, whatsoeuer YOV are pleas'd to doo

It is your special praise, that you are bent,
And sadly 2 set your princely mind thereto :
Which makes YOV in each thing so excellent.

Hence is it that YOV came so soon to bee
A man-at-armes in euery point aright ;
The fairest flowre of noble chiualrie ;
And of Saint George his band, the brauest knight.

And hence it is, that all your youthfull traine
In actiueness and grace, YOV doe excell ;
When YOV doe courtly dauncings entertaine
Then Dauncing's praise may be presented well

To YOV, whose action adds more praise thereto,
Then all the Muses with their perms can doo.

1 Query — Henry, son of James I. ? He died in 1612. Or Prince
Charles, afterwards Charles I. ? Most probably the former. G.

: = seriously. Cf. Milton : P. L. vi. 541 and Comus, $o<j
in Shakespeare frequently. G.

Orchestra,

A POEME OF DAUNCING,

i.
\\ rHERE Hues the man that neuer yet did heare

Of chaste Penelope, Ulisse? Queene ?
Who kept her faith vnspotted twentie yeare,
Till he returned that farre away had beene,
And many men, and many townes had seen :
Ten yeare at siege of Troy he lingring lay,
And ten yeare in the Mid-land-Sea did stray.

2.

Homer, to whom the Muses did carouse
A great deepe cup with heauenly nectar filld :
The greatest, deepest cup in louJs great house,
(For loue himselfe had so expresly willd)
He dranke off all, ne let one drop be spiHd ;
Since when, his braine that had before been drii,
Became the well-spring of all Poetrie,
L

1 62

ORCHESTRA.

Homer doth tell in his aboundant verse,
The long laborious trauailes of the Man ;
And of his lady too he doth reherse,
How shee illudes with all the art she can,
Th' vngratefull loue which other lords began ;
For of her lord, false Fame long since had sworn,
That Neptune's monsters had his carkase torne.

4-

All this he tells, but one thing he forgot,
One thing most worthy his eternall song ;
But he was old, and blind, and saw it not,
Or else he thought he should Ulisses wrong,
To mingle it his tragike acts among ;

Yet was there not in all the world of things,
A sweeter burden for his Muse's wings.

The courtly loue Antinous did make :
Antinous that fresh and iolly knight,
Which of the gallants that did vndertake
To win the widdow, had most wealth and might,
Wit to perswade, and beautie to delight :
The courtly loue he made vnto the Queene,
Homer forgot, as if it had not beene.

ORCHESTRA. 163

6.

Sing then Terpischore, my light Muse sing

His gentle art, and cunning curtesie ;

You lady can remember euery thing,

For you are daughter of Queene Memorie ;

But sing a plaine and easy melodic :

I For the soft meane that warbleth but the ground,

\ To my rude eare doth yeeld the sweetest sound.

7-

One onely night's discourse I can report,
When the great Torch-bearer of Heauen was gone
Downe in a maske vnto the Ocean's Court,
To reuell it with Thetis1 all alone ;
Antinous disguised and vnknowne,

Like to the Spring in gaudie ornament,
Vnto the Castle of the Princesse went

8.

The soueraine Castle of the rockie He,
Wherein Penelope the Princesse lay ;
Shone with a thousand lamps, which did exile
The shadowes darke,2 and turn'd the night to day ;
Not lou^s blew tent, what time the sunny ray

1 Misprinted ' Tethis.' G.

3 In ist edition ' dim darke shades.' G.

1 64 ORCHESTRA.

Behind the Bulwarke of the Earth retires,
Is scene to sparkle with more twinckling fires.

9-

That night the Queen came forth from far within,
And in the presence of her Court was seene ;
For the sweet singer Phamius* did begin
To praise the worthies that at Troy had beene ;
Somewhat of her Ulisses she did weene.

In his graue hymne the heau'nly man would sing,
Or of his warres, or of his wandering.

10.

Pallas that houre with her sweet breath diuine

Inspir'd immortall beautie in her eyes ;

That with caelestiall glory shee did shine,

Brighter4 then Venus when shee doth arise

Out of the waters to adorne the skies ;
The Woqers all amazed doe admire
And checke their owne presumptuous desire.

3 Phemtus, a great singer at the court of Ulysses: Odys. i. 154,
33 7 : the latter contains the allusion supra, where Penelope stands
at the door of the hall and listens to the song. G.

4 Misprinted ' brigher.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 165

ii.

Onely Antinous when at first he view'd
Her starbright eyes, that with new honour shind ;
Was not dismayd, but there-with-all renew'd
The noblesse and the splendour of his mind ;
And as he did fit circumstances find,
Vnto the throne he boldly gan aduance,
And with faire maners wooed the Queene to dance.

12.
<f* ODDESSE of women, sith your heau'nlinesse

1 Hath now vouchsaft it selfe to represent
' To our dim eyes, which though they see the lesse
' Yet are they blest in their astonishment j
' Imitate heau'n, whose beauties excellent
1 Are in continuall motion day and night,
' And moue thereby more wonder and delight.

' Let me the moouer be, to turne about
' Those glorious ornaments, that Youth and Loue
* Haue fixed in you, euery part throughout ;
' Which if you will in timely measure moue,
' Not all those precious iemms in heau'n aboue,
' Shall yeeld a sight more pleasing to behold,
* With all their turnes and tracings manifold.'

1 66 ORCHESTRA.

14.
^IITITH this the modest Princesse blusht and smil'd,

Like to a cleare and rosie euentide,
And softly did returne this answer mild :
' Faire Sir, you needs must fairely be denide
' Where your demaund cannot be satisfide ;
' My feet, which onely Nature taught to goe,
* Did neuer yet the art of footing know.

i5-
' But why perswade you me to this new rage ?

' (For all disorder and misrule is new)

' For such misgouernment in former age,

' Our old diuine Forefathers neuer knew ;

'Who if they liu'd, and did the follies view,

' Which their fond nephews make their chiefe affaires,
1 Would hate themselues that had begot such heires.'

16.

' Sole heire of Vertue and of Beautie both,

' Whence cometh it (Antinous replies)

' That your imper[i]ous vertue is so loth

1 To graunt your beauty her chiefe exercise ?

' Or from what spring doth your opinion rise
' That dauncing5 is a frenzy and a rage,
' First knowne and vs'd in this new-fangled age ?

5 Misprinted in 1612 edition ' danching.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 167

' Daunting* (bright Lady) then began to bee,
1 When the first seeds whereof the World did spring,
1 The fire, ayre, earth, and water — did agree,
* By Loue's perswasion, — Nature's mighty King, —
' To leaue their first disordred combating ;
' And in a daunce such measure to obserue,
1 As all the world their motion should preserue.

1 8.

' Since when, they still are carried in a round,
' And changing, come one in another's place ;
' Yet doe they neither mingle nor confound,
' But euery one doth keepe the bounded space
' Wherein the Daunce doth bid it turne or trace ;
" This wondrous myracle did Loue deuise,
" For Dauncing is Love's proper exercise.

19.

1 Like this, he fram'd the gods' eternall Bower,
' And of a shapelesse and confused masse,
' By his through-piercing and digesting power,
' The turning vault of heauen formed was ;
' Whose starry wheeles he hath so made to passe,

c Margin-Note here ' The antiquitie of dancing.' G.

1 68 ORCHESTRA.

' As that their moouings do a musicke frame,

* And they themselues still daunce vnto the same.

20.

' Or if this All which round about we see,
' (As idle Morpheus some sicke braines hath taught)
* Of vndeuided motes compacted bee :
' How was this goodly Architecture wrought ?
' Or by what meanes were they together brought ?
' They erre that say they did concurre by chance :
' Loue made them meet in a well-ordered daunce.

21.

' As when Amphion with his charming lire

' Begot so sweet a syren of the ayre ;

' That with her Rethorike made the stones conspire

' The mines of a citie to repaire :

' (A worke of wit and reason's wise affaire)
1 So Loue's smooth tongue, the motes such measure taught
' That they ioyn'd hands ; and so the world was wrought.

22.

' How iustly then is Dauncing tearmed new,
' Which with the World in point of time begun ?
1 Yea Time it selfe, (whose birth loue neuer knew,

ORCHESTRA. 169

' And which indeed is elder then the sun)7
' Had not one moment of his age outrunne,
1 When out leapt Dauncing from the heap of things,
' And lightly rode vpon his nimble wings.

23-
' Reason hath both their pictures in her treasure,

' Where Time the measure of all mouing is,
' And Dauncing is a moouing all in measure ;
' Now if you doe resemble that to this,
' And thinke both one, I thinke you thinke amis :
' But if you iudge them twins, together got,
' And Time first borne, your iudgement erreth not.

24.

'Thus doth it equall age with age inioy,
' And yet in lustie youth for euer flowers ;
' Like loue his sire, whom Paynters make a boy,
' Yet is the eldest of the heau'nly powers ;
' Or like his brother Time, whose winged howers

' Going and comming will not let him dye,

' But still preserve him in his infancie.'

7 In first edition reads : 'And which is far more ancient then the
sun.' G.

1 70 ORCHESTRA.

25-
This said ; the Queene with her sweet lips diuine,

Gently began to moue the subtile ayre,
Which gladly yeelding, did itselfe incline
To take a shape betweene those rubies fayre ;
And being formed, softly did repayre

With twenty doublings in the emptie way,
Vnto Antinous eares, and thus did say :

26.

' What eye doth see the heau'n, but doth admire
* When it the moouings of the heau'ns doth see ?
1 My selfe, if I to heau'n may once aspire,
1 If that be dauncing, will a Dauncer be ;
' But as for this your frantick iollitie

* How it began, or whence you did it learne,
1 1 neuer could with Reason's eye discerne.

27.

Antinous answered : ' lewell of the Earth,
1 Worthy you are that heau'nly daunce to leade ;
' But for you thinke our dauncing base of birth,
' And newly-borne but of a braine-sicke head,
' I will foorthwith his antique gentry read ;

ORCHESTRA. 171

1 And for I loue him, will his herault 8 be,

1 And blaze his Armes, and draw his petigree. 9

28.

' When Loue had shapt this World, — this great faire wight,
1 That all wights else in this wide womb containes ;
' And had instructed it to daunce aright, 1
' A thousand measures with a thousand straines,
' Which it should practise with delightfull paines, 2
* Vntill that fatall instant should reuolue,
1 When all to nothing should againe resolue :

29.

1 The comely order and proportion faire
' On euery side, did please his wandring eye :
' Till glauncing through the thin transparent ayre,
* A rude disordered rout he did espie
' Of men and women, that most spightfully
' Did one another throng, and crowd so sore,
' That his kind eye in pitty wept therefore.

8 Herald. G. 9 Pedigree, G.

1 Margin-Note here ' The original of dancing.' G.

2 'Painstaking.' G.

i72 ORCHESTRA.

' And swifter then the lightning downe he came,
' Another shapelesse Chaos to digest ;
' He will begin another world to frame,
' (For Loue till all be well will neuer rest)
' Then with such words as cannot be exprest,
' He cutts the troups, that all asunder fling,
' And ere they wist, he casts them in a ring.

3i-

' Then did he rarifie the element,

' And in the center of the ring appeare ;

1 The beams that from his forehead spreading 3 went,

' Begot an horrour, and religious feare

' In all the soules that round about him weare ;
' Which in their eares attentiueness procures,
' While he, with such like sounds, their minds allures.

32.

' How doth Confusion's mother, headlong Chance,4
' Put Reason's noble squadron to the rout ?
' Or how should you that haue the gouernance
' Of Nature's children, Heauen and Earth throughout,
' Prescribe them rules, and Hue your selues without ?

3 In i st edition 'shining.' G.

4 Margin-Note here ' The speech of Love, perswading men to
learn Dancing.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 173

1 Why should your fellowship a trouble be,
' Since man's chiefe pleasure is societie ?

33-

1 If sence hath not yet taught you, learne of me
' A comely moderation and discreet ;
' That your assemblies may well ordered bee
' When my vniting power shall make you meet,
' With heau'nly tunes it shall be tempered sweet :
' And be the modell of the World's great frame,
1 And you Earth's children, Daunting shall it name.

34-

' Behold the World, how it is whirled round,

1 And for it is so whirFd, is named so ;

1 In whose large volume many rules are found

* Of this new Art, which it doth fairely show ;

' For your quicke eyes in wandring too and fro

' From East to West, on no one thing can glaunce,
1 But if you marke it well, it seemes to daunce.

35-

1 First5 you see fixt in this huge mirrour blew,
' Of trembling lights, a number numberlesse :6

5 Margin-Note here * By the orderly motion of the fixed stars.' G.

6 Cf. ' Paradise Regained ' iii. 310, as in Astroea, Hymne xxi. G.

174 ORCHESTRA.

1 Fixt they are nam'd, but with a name vntrue,
* For they all mooue7 and in a Daunce expresse
4 That great long yeare, that doth containe no lesse
1 Then threescore hundreds of those yeares in all,
' Which the sunne makes with his course naturall.

36.

' What if to you these sparks disordered seeme

' As if by chaunce they had beene scattered there ?

' The gods a solemne measure doe it deeme,

' And see a iust proportion euery where,

' And know the points whence first their mouings were ;
' To which first points when all returne againe,
' The axel-tree of Heau'n shall breake in twaine.

37-

1 Vnder that spangled skye, fiue wandring flames8
' Besides the King of Day, and Queene of Night,
1 Are wheel'd around, all in their sundry frames,
' And all in sundry measures doe delight,
' Yet altogether keepe no measure right ;

7 In i st edition 'are mov'd. G.

3 Margin-Note here ' Of the planets.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 175

' For by it selfe each doth it selfe aduance,
' And by it selfe each doth a galliard9 daunce.

38.

' Venus, the mother of that bastard Loue,
' Which doth vsurpe the World's great Marshal's name,
' lust with the sunne her dainty feete doth moue,
' And vnto him doth all the iestures frame ;
' Now after, now afore, the flattering Dame,
' With diuers cunning passages doth erre,
' Still him respecting that respects not her.

39-

' For that braue Sunne the Father of the Day,
* Doth loue this Earth, the Mother of the Night ;
' And like a reuellour in rich aray,
' Doth daunce his galliard in his lemman's sight,
' Both back, and forth, and sidewaies, passing light ;
' His princely1 grace doth so the gods amaze,
' That all stand still and at his beauty gaze.

9 A French ' dance ' : the name meaning gay or brisk, and so a
quick liuely dance, introduced into England about 1541. Thomas
Wright's ' Dictionary ' s.v. G.

1 In ist edition 'gallant.' G.

176 ORCHESTRA.

40.

' But see the Earth, when he approcheth neere,
* How she for ioy doth spring and sweetly smile ;
1 But see againe her sad and heauy cheere
' When changing places he retires a while ;
' But those blake2 cloudes he shortly will exile,
' And make them all before his presence flye,
1 As mists consum'd before his cheerefull eye.

41.

' Who doth not see the measures of the Moone,
' Which thirteene times she daunceth euery yeare ?
'And ends herpauine3 thirteene times as soone
' As doth her brother, of whose golden haire4
' She borroweth part, and proudly doth it weare ;
' Then doth she coyly turne her face aside,
* Then halfe her cheeke is scarse sometimes discride.

42.

' Next her, the pure, subtile, and clensing Fire5
' Is swiftly carried in a circle euen ;

2 Black. G.

5 Spanish pavana : a solemn Spanish dance. G.

4 Spelled in first edition, ' heire.' G.

5 Margin-Note here « Of the Fire.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 177

1 Though Vulcan be pronounst by many a Iyer,
' The only halting god that dwels in heauen :
' But that foule name may be more fitly giuen

' To your false Fire, that farre from heauen is fall : 7
' And doth consume, waste, spoile, disorder all.

43-

' And now behold your tender nurse the Ayre*
' And common neighbour that ay runns around ;
' How many pictures and impressions faire
* Within her empty regions are there found ;
' Which to your sences Dauncing doe propound.

' For what are Breath, Speech, Ecchos, Musicke, Winds,
' But Dauncings of the Ayre in sundry kinds ?

44.

' For when you breath, the ayre in order moues,
' Now in, now out, in time and measure trew ;
' And when you speake, so well she dauncing loues,
' That doubling oft, and oft redoubling new,
' With thousand formes she doth her selfe endew
' For all the words that from our lips repaire
* Are nought but tricks and turnings of the ayre.

7 Cf. ' Nosce Teipsum' page 103, ante: st. fourth, line
second. G.

8 Margin-Note here, ' Of the Ayre.' G.

M

178 ORCHESTRA.

45-

' Hence is her pratling daughter Eccho borne,
' That daunces to all voyces she can heare ;
' There is no sound so harsh that shee doth scorne,
' Nor any time wherein shee will forbeare
' The ayrie pauement with her feet to weare ;

' And yet her hearing sence is nothing quick,

' For after time she endeth euery trick.

46.

' And thou sweet Musicke, Dauncing's onely life,
; The eare's sole happinesse, the ayre's best speach ;
4 Loadstone of fellowship, charming-rod of strife,
' The soft mind's Paradice, the sicke mind's leach;
' With thine own tong, thou9 trees and stons canst teach,
1 That when the Aire doth dance her finest measure,
' Then art thou borne, the gods and mens sweet pleasure.

47-

' Lastly, where keepe the Winds their reuelry,
'• Their violent turnings, and wild whirling hayes,1
' But in the Ayre's tralucent2 gallery ?

y In first edition ' ye * = the, and so elsewhere. G.
1 A round country dance. G.

3 Translucent. Cf. Milton, Samson Agonistes 548, and Comus,
86 1. G.

ORCHESTRA. 179

' Where shee herselfe is turnd a hundreth wayes,
' While with those Maskers wantonly she playes ;
' Yet in this misrule, they such rule embrace,
' As two at once encomber not the place.

48.

' If then fire, 3 ayre, wandring and fixed lights
' In euery prouince of the imperiall skie,
1 Yeeld perfect formes of dauncing to your sights,
' In vaine I teach the eare, that which the eye
1 With certaine view already doth descrie.
' But for your eyes perceiue not all they see,
' In this I will your Senses master bee.

49.

' For loe the Seat that fleets about the Land,
' And like a girdle clips her solide waist,
' Musicke and measure both doth vnderstand ;
* For his great chrystall eye is alwayes cast
' Vp to the Moone, and on her fixed fast ;
1 And as she daunceth in her pallid spheere,
' So daunceth he about his Center heere.

3 In first edition spelled ' fier.' G.

4 Margin-Note here ' Of the sea.7 G.

i8o ORCHESTRA.

' Sometimes his proud greene waues in order set,

1 One after other flow vnto the shore ;

' Which, when they haue with many kisses wet,

' They ebbe away in order as before ;

' And to make knowne his courtly loue the more,
' He oft doth lay aside his three-forkt mace,
' And with his armes the timorous Earth embrace.

' Onely the Earth doth stand for euer still :
' Her rocks remoue not, nor her mountaines meet :
' (Although some wits enricht with Learning's skill
' Say heau'n stands firme, and that the Earth doth fleet,
' And swiftly turneth vnderneath their feet)
1 Yet though the Earth is euer stedfast scene,
' On her broad breast hath Dauncing euer beene.

52-

' For those blew vaines that through her body spred,
' Those saphire streames which from great hils do spring.5
' (The Earth's great duggs ; for euery wight is fed
- With sweet fresh moisture from them issuing) :
' Obserue a daunce in their wilde wandering ;

5 Margin-Note here 'Of the riuers.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 181

1 And still their daunce begets a murmur sweet,
' And still the murmur with the daunce doth meet.

53-

Of all their wayes I love Mczander's path,
' Which to the tunes of dying swans doth daunce ; 6
' Such winding sleights, such turns and tricks he hath,
' Such creeks, such wrenches, and such daliaunce ;
' That whether it be hap or heedlesse chaunce,
* In this indented course and wriggling play
' He seemes to daunce a perfect cunning hay. 7

54-

* But wherefore doe these streames for euer runne ?
' To keepe themselues for euer sweet and cleere :
' For let their euerlasting course be donne,
' They straight corrupt and foule with mud appeare.
' O yee sweet Nymphs that beautie's losse do feare,
' Contemne the drugs that Physicke doth deuise,
' And learne of Loue this dainty exercise.

6 Ovid (Heroides vn. i, 2)

' Sic ubi fata vocant, udis abjectus in herbis,

Ad vada Maeandri concinit albus olor.'

Cf. Sir Thomas Browne ' Enquiries into Vulgar and Common
Errors' Book m.c. xxvii : Works by Wilkin, Vol. n. pp. 517, 518
(edition Pickering 1835.) G.

7 A round country dance, as before.

1 82 ORCHESTRA.

55-

' See how those flowres that have sweet beauty too,
' (The onely iewels that the Earth doth weare, 8
' When the young Sunne in brauery her doth woo) :
' As oft as they the whistling wind doe heare,
' Doe waue their tender bodies here and there ;
1 And though their daunce no perfect measure is,
' Yet oftentimes their musicke makes them kis.

56.

'What makes the vine about the elme to daunce,
' With turnings, windings, and embracements round ?
1 What makes the loadstone to the North aduance
1 His subtile point, as if from thence he found
' His chiefe attractiue vertue to redound ?

' Kind Nature first doth cause all things to loue,
1 Loue makes them daunce and in iust order moue.

57-

' Harke how the birds doe sing, and marke then how
' lumpe 9 with the modulation of their layes,
' They lightly leape, and skip from bow to bow :
' Yet doe the cranes deserue a greater prayse
' Which keepe such measure in their ayrie wayes,

8 Margin -Note here ' Of other things upon the earth.' G.

9 ' Exact' : this illustrates Hamlet i,, i, and Othello ii., 3. G.

ORCHESTRA. 183

'As when they all in order ranked are,
* They make a perfect forme triangular.

58-

1 In the chiefe angle flyes the watchfull guid,
' And all the followers their heads doe lay
1 On their foregoers backs, on eyther side ;
1 But for the captaine hath no rest to stay,
' His head forewearied with the windy way,
1 He back retires, and then the next behind,
' As his lieuetenaunt leads them through the wind.

59-

1 But why relate I euery singular ?
1 Since all the World's great fortunes and affaires
1 Forward and backward rapt and whirled are,
* According to the musicke of the spheares :
' And Chaunge x herselfe her nimble feete vpbeares
' On a round slippery wheele that rowleth ay,
1 And turnes all States with her imperuous 2 sway.

60.

' Learne then to daunce, you that are Princes borne,
1 And lawfull lords of earthly creatures all ;

1 In first edition a probable misprint is, 'Chaunce.' G.
In first edition ' impetuous.' G.

1 84 ORCHESTRA.

' Imitate them , and thereof take no scorne,

' For this new art to them is naturall —

1 And imitate the starres cselestiall :

' For when pale Death your vital twist shall seuer,
' Your better parts must daunce, with them for euer.

61.

' Thus Loue perswades, and all the crowd 3 of men
* That stands around, doth make a murmuring ;
1 As when the wind loosd from his hollow den,
1 Among the trees a gentle base 4 doth sing,
' Or as a brooke through peebles wandering ;

' But in their looks they vttered this plain speach,
' That they would learn to daunce, if Loue would
teach.5

62.

' Then first of all he doth demonstrate plaine
' The motions seauen that ar in Nature found,
' Upward and doivneward, forth and backe agame,

3 In first and 1622 editions there is a probable misprint of 'crowne1
here. G. 4 Bass. G.

5 Margin-Note here : ' How Loue taught men to dance.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 185

' To this side and to that, and turning round;®
' Whereof a thousand brawles he doth compound,
' Which he doth teach vnto the multitude,
' And euer with a turne they must conclude.

63.

' As when a Nimph7 arysing from the land,
' Leadeth a daunce with her long watery traine
' Down to the Sea ; she wries to euery hand,
' And euery way doth crosse the fertile plaine ;
1 But when at last shee falls into the maine,
' Then all her trauerses concluded are,
' And with the Sea her course is circulare.

64.

' Thus when at first Loue had them marshalled,
' As earst he did the shapeless masse of things,
' He taught them rounds and winding heyes to tread,
' And about trees to cast themselues in rings :
' As the two Beares, whom the First Mouer flings
' With a short turn about heauen's axeltree,
1 In a round daunce for ever wheeling bee.

6 Margin-Note here ' Rounds or Country Dances.' G.

7 This interprets ' Nosce Teipsum,' Reason II, st. i, page 86 ante.

1 86 ORCHESTRA.

65-

' But after these, as men more ciuell grew,
' He did more graue and solemn measures frame,8
* With such faire order and proportion true,9
' And correspondence euery way the same,
' That no fault-finding eye did euer blame ;
' For euery eye was moued at the sight
' With sober wondring, and with sweet delight.

66.

' Not those yong1 students of the heauenly booke,
' Atlas the great, Promethius the wise,
' Which on the starres did all their life-time looke,
' Could euer finde such measures in the skies,
' So full of change and rare varieties ;

' Yet all the feete whereon these measures goe,
' Are only spondeis, solemne, graue and sloe.

67.

' But for more diuers and more pleasing show,
' A swift and wandring daunce she did inuent,

8 Margin-Note here ' Measures.' G.

9 In ist edition spelled ' trew,' G.

1 In ist edition ' old ' : 'young ' in 1622 must be a misprint, un-
less used in the grand meaning of SIR THOMAS BROWNE. In 1622
it is mis-spelled ' youg.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 187

' With passages vncertaine to and fro,
' Yet with a certaine answer and consent
' To the quicke musicke of the instrument.2
' Fiue was the number of the Musick's feet,
' Which still the daunce did with fiue paces meet.

68.

' A gallant daunce, that lively doth bewray -

* A spirit and a vertue masculine ;

' Impatient that her house on earth should stay

' Since she her selfe is fiery and diuine ;

' Oft doth she make her body vpward fline3,
* With lofty turnes and capriols4 in the ayre,
' Which with the lusty tunes accordeth faire.

69.

' What shall I name those currant trauases,5
' That on a triple dactile foot doe runne
1 Close by the ground with sliding passages,
4 Wherein that Dauncer greatest praise hath wonne
' Which with best order can all orders shunne ;

2 Margin-Note here ' Galliards.' G.

3 In'ist edition spelled ' flyne ' : A.S. ' to fly.' G.

4 A ' capriole ' is a ' lady's head-dress ' (Wright) : but here seems
to mean ' springings and turnings ' : degenerated into ' capers' at
this later day. G. 5 Margin-Note here, ' Courantoes.' G.

1 88 ORCHESTRA.

' For euery where he wantonly must range,

' And turne, and wind, with vnexpected change.

70.

' Yet is there one, the most delightfull kind,
1 A loftie lumping, or a leaping round ;6
' Where arme in arme two dauncers are entwind
' And whirle themselues with strict embracements bound,
' And still their feet an anapest do souffd ;
' An anapest is all their musick's song,
' Whose first two feet are short, and third is long.

' As the victorious twinnes of JLada and loue
1 That taught the Spartans dauncing on the sands
' Of swift Eurotas, daunce in heaun aboue,
' Knit and vnited with eternall hands;
' Among the starres their double image stands,
' Where both are carried with an equall pace,
' Together iumping in their turning race.

72.

' This is the net wherein the Sunn's bright eye
* Venus and Mars entangled did behold ;

6 Margin-Note here, ' Lavoltaes.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 189

' For in this daunce, their armes they so imply7
' As each doth seeme the other to enfold ;
' What if lewd wits another tale haue told

1 Of iealous Vulcan, and of yron chaynes ?

' Yet this true sence that forged lye containes.

73-

' These various formes of dauncing, Loue did frame
' And beside these, a hundred millions moe ;
' And as he did inuent, he taught the same,
' With goodly iesture, and with comly show,

* Now keeping state, now humbly honoring low :

' And euer for the persons and the place

' He taught most fit and best according grace.8

74-

* For Loue, within his fertile working braine

' Did9 then conceiue those gracious Virgins three ;

' Whose ciuell moderation does maintaine

' All decent order and conueniencie,

' And faire respect, and seemlie modestie ;

7 There is a misprint of ' employ ' in Thomas Davies' edition, as
before. G.

8 Margin-Note here * Grace in dauncing.' G.

9 In the errata of 1622 edition ' doo' is substituted for ' did,' itself
a misprint, perhaps, for ' does.' G.

190 ORCHESTRA.

1 And then he thought it fit they should be borne,
' That their sweet presence dauncing might adorne.

75-

' Hence is it that these Graces painted are
' With hand in hand dauncing an endlesse round ;
' And with regarding eyes, that still beware
1 That there be no disgrace amongst them found ;
' With equall foote they beate the flowry ground,
' Laughing, or singing, as their passions will :
' Yet nothing that they doe becomes them ill.

* Thus Loue taught men, and men thus learnd of Loue
' Sweet Musick's sound with feet to counterfaite ;
' Which was long time before high thundering loue
' Was lifted vp to Heauen's imperiall seat ;
' For though by birth he were the Prince of Creete,

' Nor Creet9 nor Heau'n should the yong Prince haue
seen,

' If dancers with their timbrels had not been.

77-

' Since when all ceremonious misteries,
' All sacred orgies and religious rights,1

1 'Rites.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 191

' All pomps, and triumphs, and solemnities,
* All funerals, nuptials, and like publike sights,
' All Parliaments of peace, and warlike fights,
' All learned arts, and euery great affaire
1 A liuely shape of dauncing seemes to beare.2

78.

' For what did he who with his ten-tong'd lute
' Gaue beasts and blocks an vnderstanding eare ?
' Or rather into bestiall minds and brute
' Shed and infus'd the beames of reason cleare ?
' Doubtlesse for men that rude and sauage were
' A ciuill forme of dauncing he deuis'd,
' Wherewith vnto their gods they sacrifiz'd.

79-

1 So did Mus&us, so Amphion did,
' And Linus with his sweet enchanting song ;
' And he whose hand the Earth of monsters rid,
' And had men's eares fast chayned to his tongue
' And Theseus to his wood-borne slaues among,

' Vs'd dauncing as the finest policie

' To plant religion and societie.

2 Margin-Note here, * The use and formes of dauncing in sundry
affaires of man's life.' G.

I92 ORCHESTRA.

80.

* And therefore now the Thracian Orpheus lire

* And Hercules him selfe are stellified ;3

' And in high heau'n amidst the starry quire,
' Daunting their parts continually doe slide ;
' So on the Zodiake Gammed doth ride,
' And so is Hebe with the Muses nine
' For pleasing loue with daunting, made diuine.

81.

' Wherefore was Proteus sayd himselfe to change
' Into a streame, a lyon, and a tree ;
' And many other formes fantastique, strange,

* As in his fickle thought he wisht to be ?

* But that he daunc'd with such facilitie,

' As like a lyon he could pace with pride,
* Ply like a plant, and like a riuer slide.

82.

' And how was Cceneus 4 made at first a man,
' And then a woman, then a man againe,

3 Made stellae=stars or constellations. G.

4 Virgil, ./Eneid vi., 448, calls him Caenis :

.... 'et juvenis quondam, nunc femina, Caenis,
Rursus et in veterem fato revoluta figuram.'
He is mentioned again in Homer, Iliad i. 264. G.

ORCHESTRA. 193

' But in a daunce ? which when he first began
' Hee the man's part in measure did sustaine :
' But when he chang'd into a second straine,
' He daunc'd the woman's part another space,
' And then return'd into his former place.

83.

' Hence sprang the fable of Tiresias,
1 That he the pleasure of both sexes tryde ;
* For in a daunce he man and woman was
' By often chaunge of place from side to side ;
' But for the woman easily did slide

' And smoothly swim with cunning hidden art,
' He tooke more pleasure in a woman's part.

84.

1 So to a fish Venus herselfe did change,5
' And swimming through the soft and yeelding waue,
' With gentle motions did so smoothly range,
' As none might see where she the water draue ;
' But this plaine truth that falsed fable gaue,
1 That she did daunce with slyding easines,
* Plyant and quick in wandring passages.

5 Met. 1 1 1., 320, &c., &c. G.

N

194 ORCHESTRA.

85.
' And merry Bacchus practis'd dauncing to[o],

* And to the Lydian numbers,6 rounds did make :

* The like he did in th' Easterne India doo,

' And taught them all when Phoebus did awake,
' And when at night he did his coach 7 forsake :
* To honor heaun, and heau'ns great roling eye
' With turning daunces, and with melodic.

86.

' Thus they who first did found a Common-weale,
' And they who first Religion did ordaine,
' By dauncing, first the peoples hearts did steale :
1 Of whom we now a thousand tales doe faine ;
1 Yet doe we now their perfect rules retaine
' And vse them stil in such deuises new,
' As in the World, long since their withering, grew.

87.

' For after townes and kingdomes founded were,
' Betweene greate States arose well-ordered War ;
' Wherein most perfect measure doth appeare,
' Whether their well-set rankes respected are
' In quadrant forme or semicircular :

6 Cf. V Allegro • Lap me in soft Lydian airs.' (1 136.) G.

7 Qu: couch? G.

ORCHESTRA. 195

' Or else the march, when all the troups aduance,
' And to the drum, in gallant order daunce.

88.

1 And after Warrs, when white-wing'd Victory

' Is with a glorious tryumph beautified,

1 And euery one doth lo lo cry,

' Whiles all in gold the conquerour doth ride ;

' The solemne pompe that fils the Citty wide
' Obserues such ranke and measure euerywhere,
' As if they altogether dauncing were.

89.

' The like iust order mourners doe obserue,
' (But with vnlike affection and atire)
' When some great man that nobly did deserue,
' And whom his friends impatiently desire,
' Is brought with honour to his latest fire : 8

' The dead corps too in that sad daunce is mou'd
' As if both dead and liuing, dauncing lou'd.

90.

* A diuers cause, but like solemnitie
' Vnto the Temple leads the bashfull bride :
' Which blusheth like the Indian iuory

8 Incremation. G.

196 ORCHESTRA.

1 Which is with dip of Tyrian purple died ;

' A golden troope doth passe on euery side,
' Of nourishing young men and virgins gay,
* Which keepe faire measure all the flowry way.

91.

' And not alone the generall multitude,
' But those choise Nestors which in councell graue
' Of citties, and of kingdomes doe conclude,
' Most comly order in their sessions haue ;
' Wherefore the wise Thessalians euer gaue

' The name of leader of their Countrie's daunce
' To him that had their Countrie's gouernance.

92.

* And those great masters of their liberall arts,

' In all their seurall Schooles doe Dauncing teach :
' For humble Grammer first doth set the parts
' Of congruent and well-according speach ;
' Which Rethorike, whose state the clouds doth reach,
' And heau'nly Poetry, doe forward lead,
' And diuers measures diuersly doe tread.

93-

* For Rhetorick, clothing speech in rich aray

' In looser numbers teacheth her to range,
' With twenty tropes, and turnings euery way,

ORCHESTRA. 197

' And various figures and licencious change ;

' But Poetry with rule and order strange,
1 So curiously doth moue each single pace,
' As all is mard if she one foot misplace.

94.

' These Arts of speach, the guids and marshals are ;
1 But Logick leadeth Reason in a daunce :
1 (Reason the cynosure and bright load-star,
' In this World's sea t' auoid the rock of Chaunce.)
' For with close following and continuance
1 One reason doth another so ensue,9
* As in conclusion still the daunce is true.

95-

1 So Musicke to her owne sweet tunes doth trip
' With tricks of 3, 5, 8, 15, and more ;
' So doth the Art of Numbering seeme to skip
' From eu'n to odd in her proportion'd score ,
' So doe those skils, whose quick eyes doe explore
' The iust dimension both of Earth and Heau'n,
1 In all their rules obserue a measure eu'n.

96.

' Loe this is Dauncing's true nobilitie,

' Dauncing, the child of Musicke and of Loue ;

9 Pursue or succeed. G.

ORCHESTRA.

1 Dauncing it selfe, both loue and harmony,
' Where all agree, and all in order moue ;
' Dauncing, the Art that all Arts doe approue ;
' The faire caracter of the World's consent,
' The Heau'ns true figure and th' Earth's ornament.

97-

The Queene, whose dainty eares had borne too long,
The tedious praise of that she did despise ;
Adding once more the musicke of the tongue
To the sweet speech of her alluring eyes,
Began to answer in such winning wise,

As that forthwith Antinom' tongufe] was tyde,
His eyes fast fixt, his eares were open wide.

98.

1 Forsooth (quoth she) great glory you haue won,
' To your trim minion, Dauncing, all this while,
' By blazing him Loue's first begotten sonne ;
' Of euery ill the hateful father vile
' That doth the world with sorceries beguile ;
' Cunningly mad, religiously prophane,
' Wit's monster, Reason's canker, Sence's bane.

99.

1 Loue taught the mother that vnkinde desire
1 To wash her hands in her owne infant's blood ;

ORCHESTRA. 199

1 Loue taught the daughter to betray her sire

' Into most base vnworthy seruitude ;

' Loue taught the brother to prepare such foode
' To feast his brothers that the all-seeing sun
1 Wrapt in a clowd, that wicked sight did shun.1

100.

1 And euen this self same Loue hath dauncing taught,
' An Art that showes th' Idea of his minde
' With vainesse, frenzie, and misorder fraught ;
' Sometimes with blood and cruelties vnkinde :
' For in a daunce, Tereus* mad wife did finde
' Fit time and place by murther2 of her sonne,
* TJ auenge the wrong his trayterous sire had done.

101.

1 What meane the mermayds when they daunce and sing
' But certaine death vnto the marriner ?
' What tydings doe the dauncing dilphins3 bring,
* But that some dangerous storme approcheth nere ?
' Then sith both Loue and Dauncing lyueries beare

1 The Cenci of Shelley has ' married ' this tragical crime to ' im-
mortal verse.' G.

2 In first edition, ' murthering.' G.

In first edition also spelled ' dilphins ' = dolphins. G.

20O

ORCHESTRA.

1 Of such ill hap, vnhappy may 1 4 proue,
' If sitting free I either daunce or loue.'

102.

T once again Antinous did reply ;
' Great Queen, condemne not Loue5 the innocent,
' For this mischeuous lust, which traterously
{ Vsurps his name, and steales his ornament :
' For that true Loue which Dauncing did inuent,
' Is he that tun'd the World's whole harmony,
1 And linkt all men in sweet societie.

103.

' He first extracted from th' earth-mingled mind
' That heau'nly fire, or quintessence diuine,
' Which doth such simpathy in beauty find,
1 As is betweene the elme and fruitful vine,
' And so to beauty euer doth encline ;
1 Life's6 life it is, and cordiall to the heart,
' And of our better part, the better part.

4 In first edition, ' they.' G.

" Note here, ' True Loue inventor of daunting.' G

6 Spelled ' Liues.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 201

104.

' This is true Loue, by that true Cupid got,

' Which daunceth galliards in your amorous eyes,

1 But to your frozen hart approcheth not —

' Onely your hart he dares not enterprise ;

1 And yet through euery other part he flyes,
1 And euery where he nimbly daunceth now,
' Though7 in your selfe, your selfe perceiue not how.

105.

1 For your sweet beauty daintily transfus'd
' With due proportion throughout euery part ;
' What is it but a daunce where Loue hath vs'd

* His finer cunning, and more curious art ?

* Where all the elements themselues impart,

' And turne, and wind, and mingle with such measure,
* That th' eye that sees it surfeits with the pleasure ?

106.

* Loue in the twinckling of your eylids daunceth,

* Loue daunceth in your pulses and your vaines,

' Loue when you sow, your needle's point aduanceth
' And makes it daunce a thousand curious straines
' Of winding rounds, whereof the forme remaines ;

7 Thomas Davies and Southey, as before, misprint egregiously
'that.' G. *

202 ORCHESTRA.

1 To shew, that your faire hands can daunce the hey,
' Which your fine feet would learne as well as they.

107.

1 And when your iuory fingers touch the strings

' Of any siluer-sounding instrument ;

' Loue makes them daunce to those sweete murmerings,

' With busie skill, and cunning excellent ;

' O that your feet those tunes would represent
* With artificiall motions to and fro,
' That Loue this art in ev'ry part might sho[w]e !

1 08.

' Yet your faire soule, which came from heau'n aboue
' To rule thys house, — another heau'n below, —
' With diuers powers in harmony doth moue,
1 And all the vertues that from her doe flow,
1 In a round measure hand in hand doe goe :
' Could I now see, as I conceiue thys Daunce,
' Wonder and Loue would cast me in a traunce.

109.

' The richest iewell in all the heau'nly treasure
' That euer yet vnto the Earth was showne,
£ Is perfect Concord, th' onely perfect pleasure8

8 Margin-Note here, ' Concord.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 203

' That wretched earth-borne men haue euer knowne,
' For many harts it doth compound in one ;
' That when so one doth will, or speake, or doe,
' With one consent they all agree thereto.

no.

1 Concord's true picture shineth in this art,
' Where diuers men and women ranked be,
' And euery one doth daunce a seuerall part,
' Yet all as one, in measure doe agree,
' Qbseruing perfect vniformitie ;

1 All turne together, all together trace,
' And all together honour and embrace.

in.

* If they whom sacred Loue hath link't in one,
' Doe as they daunce, in all their course of life,
' Neuer shall burning griefe nor bitter mone,
' Nor factious difference, nor vnkind strife,
' Arise betwixt the husband and the wife ;
' For whether forth or bake9 or round he goe
' As the man doth, so must the woman doe.

9 ' Back,' same as ' blake,' page 176, ante, for ' black.' G.

204 ORCHESTRA.

112.

1 What if by often enterchange of place
1 Sometime the woman gets the vpper hand ?
' That is but done for more delightfull grace,
' For one1 that part shee doth not euer stand ;
' But, as the measure's law doth her command,
1 Shee wheeles about, and ere the daunce doth end,
' Into her former place shee doth transcend.

"3-

' But not alone this correspondence meet
1 And vniform consent doth dauncing praise ;
1 For Comlines the child of order sweet,2
' Enamels it with her eye-pleasing raies \
1 Fair Comlines, ten hundred thousand waies,

' Through dauncing shedds it selfe, and makes shine
* With glorious beauty, and with grace diuine.

114.

1 For Comliness is a disposing faire

' Of things and actions in fit time and place ;

1 Which doth in dauncing shew it selfe most cleere,

1 When troopes confus'd, which here and there doe trace

1 Without distinguishment or bounded space :

1 = on. G. 2 Margin-Note here, ' Comlines.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 205

' By dauncing's rule, into such ranks are brought,
' As glads the eye, as rauisheth the thought.

"5-

' Then why should Reason iudge that reasonles

1 Which is wit's ofspring, and the worke of art,
' Image of concord and of comlines ?
' Who sees a clock mouing in euery part,

* A sayling pinnesse,3 or a wheeling cart ;

' But thinks that Reason, ere it came to passe-
' The first impulsiue cause and mouer was?

116.

' Who sees an Armie all in ranke aduance,
' But deemes a wise Commaunder is in place,
' Which leadeth on that braue victorious daunce ?

* Much more in Dauncing's Art, in Dauncing's grace,
' Blindnes it selfe may Reason's footstep trace ;

' For of Loue*s maze it is the curious plot,
1 And of Man's fellowship the true-love knot.

' But if these eyes of yours, (load-starrs of Loue,

' Shewing the World's great daunce to your mind's eye !)

1 In first edition, spelled ' pinnesse ' also, = pinnace. G.

206 ORCHESTRA.

' Cannot with all their demonstrations moue

' Kinde apprehension in your fantasie,

' Of Dauncing's vertue, and nobilitie ;

' How can my barbarous tongue win you there to,

' Which Heau'n and Earth's faire speech could neuer
'do?

118.

( O Loue my king : if all my wit and power
1 Haue done you all the seruice that they can,
' O be you present in this present hower,
' And help your seruant and your true Leige-man
' End that perswasion which I earst began ;
1 For who in praise of Dauncing can perswade
' With such sweet force as Loue, which Dancing made?

119.

Loue heard his prayer, and swifter then the wind,

Like to a page, in habit, face, and speech,

He came, and stood Antinous behind,

And many secrets to his thoughts did teach ;4

At last a christall mirrour he did reach

Vnto his hands, that he with one rash view,
All formes therein by Loue's reuealing knew.

4 Margin-Note here, 'A passage to the description of dauncing in
this age.' G.

ORCHESTRA. 207

1 20.

And humbly honouring, gaue it to the Queene
With this faire speech : ' See fairest Queene (quoth he)
' The fairest sight that euer shall be seene,
' And th' onely wonder of posteritie,
1 The richest worke in Nature's treasury ;

' Which she disdaines to shew on this World's stage,
' And thinkes it far too good for our rude age.

121.

' But in another World diuided far :

' In the great, fortunate, triangled He,

' Thrise twelue degrees remou'd from the North star,

' She will this glorious workemanship compile ;

' Which she hath beene conceiuing all this while

' Since the World's birth, and will bring forth at last,
1 When sixe and twenty hundred yeares are past.'

122.

Penelope, the Queene, when she had view'd
The strang eye-dazeling, admirable sight,
Faine would have praisd the state and pulchritude,
But she was stricken dumbe with wonder quite,
Yet her sweet minde retain'd her thinking might ;
Her rauisht minde in heaunly thoughts did dwel,
But what she thought, no mortall tongue can tel.

208 ORCHESTRA.

123.

You lady Muse, whom loue the Counsellour

Begot of Memorie, Wisdom's treasuresse ;

To your diuining tongue is giuen a power

Of vttering secrets large and limitlesse :

You can Penelopes strange thoughts expresse

Which she conceiu'd, and then would faine haue told,
When shee the wond'rous christall did behold.

124.

Her winged thoughts bore vp her minde so hie,
As that she weend shee saw the glorious throne
Where the bright moone doth sit in maiesty :
A thousand sparkling starres about her shone,
But she herselfe did sparkle more alone

Then all those thousand beauties would haue done
If they had been confounded all in one.

125-

And yet she thought those stars mou'd in such measure.
To do their soueraigne honor and delight,
As sooth'd her minde, with sweet enchanting plesure,
Although the various change amaz'd her sight,
And her weake iudgement did entangle quite ;

Beside, their mouing made them shine more cleare,
As diamonds mou'd more sparkling do appeare.

ORCHESTRA. 209

126.

This was the picture of her wondrous thought ;
But who can wonder that her thought was so,
Sith Vulcan king of fire that mirror wrought,
(Who things to come, present, and past, doth know)
And there did represent in liuely show
Our glorious English Courts diuine image,
As it should be in this our Golden Age.

Here are wanting some Stanzaes describing Queene
Elizabeth. Then follow these.

127.

Her brighter dazeling beames of maiestie
Were laid aside, for she vouchsaft awhile
With gracious, cheerefull, and familiar eye
Vpon the reuels of her Court to smile ;
For so Time's lourneis she doth oft beguile :

Like sight no mortall eye might elsewhere see,

So full of State, Art, and varietie.

210 ORCHESTRA.

128.

For of her barons braue, and ladies faire, —
Who had they been elsewhere, most faire had been ;
Many an incomparable louely payre,
With hand in hand were interlinked scene,
Making faire honour to their soueraigne Queene ;
Forward they pac'd, and did their pace apply
To a most sweet and solemne melody.

129.

So subtile and curious was the measure,
With such5 vnlookt for chaunge in euery straine ;
As that Penelope rapt with sweet pleasure,
Weend6 shee beheld the true proportion plaine
Of her owne webb, weaud and unweaud againe ;
But that her art was somewhat lesse she thought,
And on a meere ignoble subiect wrought.

130.

For here like to the silkeworme's industry,
Beauty it selfe out of it selfe did weaue
So rare a worke, and of such subtilty,
As did all eyes entangle and deceiue,
And in all mindes a strange impression leaue ;

5 Thomas Davies, as before, drops ' such.' G.

% Thomas Davies and Southey misread ' when.' G'.

ORCHESTRA. 211

In this sweet laborinth did Cupid stray,
And neuer had the power to passe away.

As when the Indians, neighbours of the morning,

In honour of the cheerefull rising sunne ;

With pearle and painted plumes themselues adorning,

A solemne stately measure haue begun ;

The god well pleasd with that faire honour done,
Sheds foorth his beames, and doth their faces kis
With that immortal glorious face of his.

132.
So, &c.,&c. * * *

Suck is ' Orchestra ' as given by the Author in 1622 :
but in the first edition (1596) no fewer than five omitted
stanzas are found. They here follow.

127.

Away, Terpsechore, light Muse away !
And come Vranie, prophetese diuine ;
Come, Muse of heau'n, my burning thirst allay :
Euen now for want of sacred drinke I tine :
In heau'nly moysture dip thys pen of mine,

212 ORCHESTRA.

And let my mouth with nectar ouerflow,
For I must more then mortall glory show.

128.

O, that I had Homer's aboundant vaine,
I would hierof another Ilias make :
Or els the man of Mantua's charmed braine,
In whose large throat great Joue the thunder spake.
O that I could old Gefferie's 8 Muse awake,
Or borrow Colin's 9 fayre heroike stile,
Or smooth my rimes with Delia's servants file.1

129.

O, could I, sweet Companion, sing like you,
Which, of a shadow, under a shadow sing;2
Or, like Salue's sad lover true,
Or like the Bay, the Marigold's darling,3
Whose suddaine verse Loue covers with his wing :
O that your braines were mingled all with mine,
T' inlarge my wit for this great worke diuine !

7 Virgil. G. 8 Chaucer. G. 9 Spenser. G.

1 Daniel : The allusion being to his ' Sonnets to Delia.' G.

2 Edward Guilpin calls his volume ' Skialetheia, or a Shadowe of
Truth in certain Epigrams and Satyres,' 1598. G.

3 I hazard a guess, that this may refer to Charles Best, an asso-
ciate of DA VIES in the ' Rhapsody,' and author of certain vivid lines

ORCHESTRA. 213

130.

Yet, Astrophell might one for all suffize,
Whose supple Muse Camelion-like doth change
Into all formes of excellent deuise :
So might the Swallow,4 whose swift Muse doth range
Through rare Idaeas, and inuentions strange,
And euer doth enioy her ioyfull Spring,
And sweeter then the Nightingale doth sing.

131-

O, that I might that singing Swallow heare,
To whom I owe my seruice and my loue !
His sugred tunes would so enchant mine eare,
And in my mind such sacred fury moue,
As I should knock at Heau'ns gate aboue,

With my proude rimes, while of this heau'nly state

I doe aspire the shadow to relate.5

called 'A Sonnet of the Sun : a Jewell, being a sun shining upon the
Marigold closed in a heart of gold, sent to his mistress, named
Mary, among others. See Nicolas's edition of the ' Rhapsody,' Vol.
I., pp. 183, 184. G.

4 Perhaps a play on his 'then' friend's name of Martin. G.

* Collier gives supra in his ' Bibliographical Account of Early
English Literature,' s.n.

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