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Indeed he was a true model of worth ; a man fit for conquest, 
plantation, reformation, or what action soever is greatest and 
hardest amongst men; withal such, a lover of mankind and 
goodness, that whoever had any real parts, in him found com- 
fort, participation, and protection to the uttermost of his power. 

FuLKE Greville, Life of Sidney. 

The excellencies of this admirable essay are equally conspic- 
uous, whether we regard the purity and simphcity of its style, 
the streiigth and soundness of its reasoning, the rich fervor of 
its eloquence, or the variety and aptness of its illustrations. In 
short, nothing is wanting to malce the Defense^ of Poesy a piece 
of writing that, in a similar space, is not to be paralleled in our 
language. And regarding it as an essay on the natu/e, objects, 
and effects of poetry as an art, it is also beyond comparison the 
most complete work of the kind which we possess, even up to 
the present day ; — which is not a little singular, considering 
that it was written before we had achieved a poetry of our own, 
and at a period, too, when it appears that the art itself was held 
in but slight respect at all events, if not in mere contempt. 

Retrospective Review (for 1824) 10. 44. 

Sidney may be regarded as the earliest and the greatest 
assthetician — in Schiller's sense of that term — that England 
has ever produced. 

Flugel's Edition (1889), p. xlix. 

The Defense of Poetry is a work of rare merit. It is agolden 
little volume, which the scholar may lay beneath his pillow, as 
Chrysostom did the works of Aristophanes. ... It will be 
read "with delight by all who have a taste for the beauties of poe- 
try, and may go far to remove the prejudices of those who 
haAfe not. 

Longfellow, N. Amer. Rev. 34 (January, J832). 57. 

Mv ttxiliv m&nnj 











n^ H 


Still less scruple has been felt iu departing from the old 
punctuation ; it has no right to be considered Bacon's ; it 
often makes absolute nonsense of a passage ; it sometimes 
produces ambiguities that may well cause perplexities even 
to intelligent readers ; and its retention can only be valuable 
to archaeologists as showing how little importance should be 
attached to the commas and colons scattered at random 
through their pages by the Elizabethan compositors." 

My obligations to various scholars will be found recorded 
in their proper places in the Notes ; but I take pleasure in 
bringing together, in the order of their citation, the names 
of Dr. J. A. H. Murray of Oxford, Mr. Ralph O. Williams 
of New Haven, Prof. T. F. Crane of Cornell University, 
Prof. Daniel G. Brinton of the University of Pennsylvania, 
Prof. Bernadotte Perrin of Adelbert University, and Prof 
Thomas D. Goodell of Yale University. 

A. S. C. 

New Haven, July 4, 1890. 



Introduction ix 

Sketch of Sidney's Life ix 

Date of Composition and Publication xii 

Learning '. xv 

Style xxi 

Theory of Poetry xxviii 

Followers and Imitators xxxix 

Analysis xli 

The Defense of Poesy i 

Notes 59 

Variants 134 

Index of Proper Names 140 


I. Sketch of Sidney's Life. 

{Adapted from the Chronicle in Arber*s edition^ 

Philip Sidney " was son of Sir Henry Sidney by the Lady 
Mary his wife, eldest daughter of John Dudley, Duke of 
Northumberland ; was born, as 'tis supposed, at Penhurst in 
Kentj 29 November, 1554, and had his Christian name given 
to him by his father from King PhiKp, then lately married 
to Queen Mary' (Wood, Athena Oxonienses). He was 
the eldest of three sons and four daughters. Philip Sidney 
and Fulke Greville, both of the same age (nine years), and 
afterwards friends for life, enter Shrewsbury School on 
the same day, Oct. 17, 1564. Fulke Greville thus testifies of 
his schoolfellow : " Of whose youth I will report no other 
wonder but thus, that though I lived with him, and knew 
him from a child, yet I never knew him other than a man ; 
with such staidness of mind, lovely and familiar gravity, as 
carried grace and reverence above greater years. His talk 
ever of knowledge, and his very play tending to enrich his 
mind, so as even his teachers found something in him to 
observe and learn, above that which they had usually read 
or taught ; which eminence by nature and industry made 
his worthy father style Sir Philip in my hearing (though 
I unseen) Lumen familim suce" [the light of his family]. 
" While he was very young, he was sent to Christ Church 
to be improved in all sorts of learning . . . where continuing 
till he was about 1 7 years of age "... (Wood, Athence 
Oxonienses). This settlement at Oxford was made when 


hf was 13 years old. On May 25, 1572, the Queen grants 
Philip Sidney license to go abroad with three servants and 
tour horses. On May 26 he leaves London in the train of 
the Earl of Lincoln, Ambassador to the French King. 
August 9, Charles IX makes him one of the Gentlemen of 
his Chamber. August 24, the Massacre of St. Bartholomew ; 
Sidney, being in the house of the English Ambassador, Sir 
Francis Walsingham, is safe. He however soon leaves 
Paris, and journeys by Heidelberg to Frankfort, where he 
meets Hubert Languet, aged 54. He stays at Frankfort 
about nine months. They two then go to Vienna, where, 
after some trips to Hungary, Sidney leaves Languet, and 
spends eight months in Italy, chiefly in Venice, Padua, and 
Genoa. He returns to Vienna in November, spends his 
winter there, and, coming home through the Low Countries, 
reaches England on May 31, 1575, having been absent a 
trifle over three years, from the age of 17 till that of 20. 
In the same year introduced to Court by his uncle, the Earl 
of Leicester. July 9-27, 1575, is at the famous reception 
given by Leicester to the Queen, at Kenilworth. The Court 
moves to Chartley Castle, where Phihp is supposed first to 
have seen 'Stella' (Penelope, daughter of Lord Essex, then 
aged 1 3 ; afterwards Lady Rich) . The sonnets of Astrophel 
and Stella go on for the next five or six years. In 1577, at 
the age of 22, is sent as Ambassador with messages of con- 
dolence to Rodolph II, the new emperor of Germany, at 
Prague, and to the two sons of Frederic III, late Elector 
Palatine, viz., Lewis (now Elector) and John Casimir, at 
Heidelberg. In May of 1578, on the coming of the Court 
to his uncle's at Wanstead, Sidney writes a masque entitled 
The Lady of May. About this time Sidney becomes 
acquainted with Gabriel Harvey, and through him with 
Edmund Spenser. In August, 1579, Stephen Gosson pub- 
lishes The School of Abuse, and on Oct. 16 Spenser writes 
to Harvey Sidney's idea of it. Soon after (Dec. 5) 


Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar is entered at Stationer's 
Hall. In 1580 Sidney writes to the Queen against her 
marrying the Duke of Anjou, and while virtually ban- 
ished from Court writes the Arcadia, and, jointly with his 
sister, translates the Psalms. Early in 1581 Sidney is a 
member of Parliament, and on Sept. 30 Languet dies at 
Antwerp. On Jan. 8, 1583 the Queen knights him, and 
soon after he marries Frances, daughter of Sir Francis Wal- 
singham. In this year he probably writes the Defense of 
Poesy. During the winter of 1584-5 he is a second time 
member of Parliament. His daughter EKzabeth, afterward 
Countess of Rutland, is born in 1585, and Sidney projects 
an expedition to America with Sir Francis Drake. On Nov. 
7, 1585 he is appointed Governor of Flushing, on Nov. 16 
leaves England for the last time, and on Nov. 21 assumes 
his office. In 1586 his father and mother both die. On 
Sept. 2 2 of this year the fight at Zutphen occurs. Accord- 
ing to the Earl of Leicester's account, Sidney " received a 
sore wound upon his thigh, three fingers above his knee, 
the bone broken quite in pieces." Sidney lingered twenty- 
six days, his last words being these, which were addressed 
to his brother : " Love my memory, cherish my friends ; 
their faith to me may assure you they were honest. But, 
above all, govern your will and affections by the will and 
word of your Creator, in me beholding the end of this world 
with all her vanities." He died when he had not quite 
attained his thirty-second year. On Oct. 24 his body was 
removed to Flushing, embarked there for conveyance to 
London on Nov. i, landed at Tower Hill on Nov. 5, and 
taken to a house in the Minories, without Aldgate, where it 
remained until the public funeral at St. Paul's on Feb. 16, 
1587. "Volumes," says Fox Bourne {Memoir, p. 534), 
" would be filled were I to collect all the praise uttered in 
prose, and still more extensively in verse, by Sir Phihp Sid- 
ney's contemporaries or his immediate successors.'' 


2. Date of Composition and Publication. 

As Sidney refers to the Shepherd's Calendar of Spenser 
(47 u), the Defense must have been written subsequent 
to the publication of that work, which was entered at Sta- 
tioner's Hall on Dec. 5, 1579. Moreover, the Defense was 
in some measure intended as a reply to Gosson's School of 
Abuse, which appeared about August, 1579, and which had 
certainly been examined by Sidney before the middle of 
October of that year, as appears from Spenser's letter to 

After Sidney's departure from England to serve in the 
Low Countries, Nov. 16, 1585, he would have had no leisure 
for the composition of such a work. Accordingly it must 
have been written between 1579 and 1585. Arber thinks 
" that the vindication followed soon upon the attack,'' and 
is therefore disposed to fix the date of the Defense in 158 1. 
Fox Bourne says (^Memoir, p. 407) : " The Defense of 
Poesie, written after The Arcadia and Astrophel and Stella, 
and therefore probably not until the year 1583." In expla- 
nation of this, it must be remembered that the Arcadia was 
begun, and the most of it probably written, in 1580. Fox 
Bourne says of it {Memoir, p. 345) : " Having commenced 
his romance in the summer of 1580, I infer that Sidney had 
written about three-quarters of the whole, and all which has 
come down to us in a finished state, by the autumn of 1581." 
Some time must be allowed for the change in Sidney's style, 
the abandonment of a florid and sentimental manner of 
writing, and the acquisition of that sobriety and soUdity of 
diction which reflects a maturer manhood. This progress 
toward maturity is noted by Fox Bourne (p. 347) : " His 
journey to Flanders, in the early spring of 1582, must have 
interrupted his literary work. After that there was a marked 
change in his temper. Honest purposes were rising in hira 
which little accorded with many sentiments in the halt 


written romance." The argument derived from the change 
in Sidney's style, the index of a corresponding change in his 
temper and views, seems to me irresistible, and I am there- 
fore incUned to place the Defense as late as 1583. The quiet 
happiness of the first months succeeding his marriage may 
have been especially favorable to such thoughtful composi- 

Even more conducive to the philosophical meditation 
which the authorship of this tractate required may have been 
his friendship with a famous^ philosopher and highly gifted 
nature, who in that year came to ISngland and entered the 
circle composed of Sidney and his most intimate .friends. I 
refer to the poet and mystic, Giordano Bruno, a precursor 
of Bacon and martyr of the Inquisition. The preparation 
for the Defense necessitated a comparison of the doctrines 
of Plato and Aristotle touching poetry, and nothing could 
well have served as a more urgent stimulus to such philo- 
sophical study than familiar intercourse with Bruno, at home 
in Platonism and Neoplatonism, and a vigorous assailant of 
the exclusive authority of Aristotle. Who can fail to recog- 
nize the substantial identity of Sidney's reflection on the 
loveliness of virtue (30 20-22), not only with the common 
source in Plato, but also with the following sentiment taken 
from Bruno's Heroic Rapture, which was dedicated to Sidney 
(quoted in Frith's Life of Giordano Bruno, p. 125) : " For I 
am assured that Nature has endowed me with an inward 
sense by which I reason from the beauty before my eyes to 
the light and eminence of more excellent spiritual beauty, 
which is light, majesty, and divinity." The impulse given 
by Bruno would be precisely that which Sidney needed in 
order to urge him to clarify his ideas, and reduce them to 
the orderly form in which they are presented in the Defense. 
On the hypothesis that this intimacy with Bruno did mark 
a distinct stage in Sidney's spiritual development, we can 
more readily comprehend how he was led to undertake the 


translation of Duplessis Mornay's book on the Truth of the 
Christian Religion, a work abounding in the Neoplatonic 
views with which Bruno's philosophy is surcharged. 

The reason for assigning the Defense to the year 1581 
has less weight when we discover that it is much more than 
a reply to Gosson, that the. " argument of abuse " occupies 
a comparatively small part of the whole treatise, and that 
the positive, constructive, and critical element of it is what 
constitutes its chief value. Were we to assume, with Gro- 
sart (see p. xxxviii), that Spenser, perhaps before Gosson's 
attack was issued, suggested such a positive and constructive 
work to Sidney, if he did not actually have a hand in the 
planning of Sidney's own tract, there would be still less 
ground for believing that Sidney hastened to reply, espe- 
cially as there had been at least one confutation of Gosson's 
pamphlet attempted in the year 1579, under the title of 
Honest Excuses. In Gosson's Apology of the School of 
Abuse (Arber's ed., p. 73), we read: "It is told me that 
they have got one in London to write certain Honest 
Excuses, so they term it, to their dishonest abuses which I 
revealed." This Apology was written in 1579, and within 
a year or so Thomas Lodge had written his Defense, unless 
we assume that this is identical with the Honest Excuses, as 
has been done by some. In any event, we may be sure 
that there was no lack of ephemeral strictures, conceived in 
the same kind as the School of Abuse itself. What was 
wanted was a dignified discussion of the whole subject, 
based upon a profound and dispassionate view of the prin- 
ciples involved, and this, so different in every way from a 
hasty compilation, spiced with virulent epigrams, or what 
passed for such, Sidney would have been in no haste to 
publish. To these considerations in favor of the later date 
may be added the opinion of Collier {Hist. Eng. Dran\ 
Poetry, 2. 422-3 and 3. 374), who believes it to have been 
written " about the year 1583.'' 


The Defense was not published till 1595, and then by two 
different printers, Ohiey and Ponsonby. The former gave 
it the title, An Apologie for Poetrie ; the latter. The Defence 
of Poesie. It is doubtful which of these appeared the earlier 
(Fliigel's ed., pp. 65, 66). Sidney himself refers to the 
treatise as " a pitiful defense of poor poetry " (but cf. p. xxxix) . 

3. Learning. 

Like Bacon and Shakespeare, Sidney was a diligent stu- 
dent of Plutarch, and scarcely less of the Morab than of the 
Lives. On the 19th of December, 1573, he wrote from 
Venice to his friend Languet, asking for a copy of Plutarch 
in French. The indications accordingly are that he did 
not then read Greek with much fluency. His words are 
(Fox Bourne, Memoir, p. 74) : " If you can pick them up 
in Vienna, I wish you would send me Plutarch's works trans- 
lated into French. I would wiUingly pay five times their 
value for them." Languet replied " that for all the money 
in the world he could not buy a copy of Plutarch, though 
perhaps he might borrow one" (Fox Bourne, p. 75). This 
answer is not a little surprising, seeing that Amyot's French 
translation of the Lives, from which the English rendering 
by North was afterward made, appeared in 1559, that of the 
Morals not being published, however, till 1574. North's 
version was issued in 1 5 79, but long before this time Sidney 
was no doubt able to read Greek with much greater ease, 
and in any case must have familiarized himself with the mat- 
ter of Plutarch. No one among the ancients was so abun- 
dant a source of illustration to the moralists and essayists of 
the sixteenth century. It is for his store of anecdote and 
his living traits of the great men of antiquity that Sidney 
chiefly uses him, though it is clear that he had likewise 
become strongly imbued with Plutarch's ethical sentiments, 
except in so far as they were condemned or superseded by 
the purer tenets of Christianity. 


Sidney's favorite among the Latin prosaists was unques- 
tionably Cicero. To hini, as to the men of the hterary 
Renaissance generally, Cicero was the unrivalled model of 
style. Sidney's ear was charmed by the harmonious ca- 
dences of the great rhetorician, while his imagination was 
fired by Cicero's ostensible fervor of patriotism, his oratori- 
cal indignation or zeal, his prodigality of information and 
allusion, and, perhaps beyond everything else, by the re- 
flected glories of the ancient Roman State. If the style of 
the master partakes somewhat too much of Asiatic grandil- 
oquence and floridity, and somewhat too little of Attic re- 
finement and moderation, we should not be greatly surprised 
if we find the pupil occasionally proving his aptness by a 
clever imitation of the blemishes, as well as the beauties, of 
his original. We must not be unjust to Sidney because the 
sounding brass of Cicero sometimes gave forth in his hands 
the tone of the clanging cymbal. It must be remembered 
that the mind of England had been largely nourished upon 
the Psalmists and Prophets of the Old Testament, and had 
thus acquired a certain liking for the splendor of Oriental 
imagery, as well as the pomp and harmonies of Oriental 
language. To this must be added the familiarity with the 
mediaeval romances which came in the train of the Crusades, 
many of which were fragrant with the breath of the East. 
Finally, a fresh wave of Orientalism was now pouring upon 
France and England from the land of chivalrous thoughts 
and high emprise, the Spain of the Moors and the Castilian 
kings, of Guevara and Montemayor. Instead of wondering, 
therefore, that Sidney could endure, much less imitate, the 
Asianism with which Cicero's style, notwithstanding its many 
beauties, is still infected, we should rather wonder that he 
possessed the vigor of understanding and sense of form 
which are unmistakable in his theory and in the best of his 
practice, and that he was able to make so firm a stand 
against those tendencies of his time which resulted in the 
pedantries and imbecilities of Euphuism. 


Languet, Sidney's early and revered friend, is to be held 
partly responsible for his application to Cicero, as well as 
for any undue attachment to the Latin writers in general. 
In response to Sidney's letter quoted above, penned when 
Sidney was but 19, Languet wrote : "You ask me how you 
ought to form a style of writing. In my opinion you cannot 
do better than give careful study to all Cicero's letters, not 
only for the sake of the graceful Latin, but also on account 
of the weighty truths which they contain. . . . But take care 
of slipping into the heresy of those who believe that Cicero- 
nianism is the summum bonum, and who will spend a life- 
time in aiming after it. . . . When you begin to read Cicero's 
letters you will hardly need Plutarch " (Fox Bourne, pp. 
74-5). This was soon followed by more counsel of similar 
tenor : " Greek literature, again, is a very beautiful study ; 
but I fear you will have no leisure to follow it through, and 
whatever time you give to it you steal from Latin, which, 
though less elegant than Greek, is far better worth your 
knowing" (Fox Bourne, p. 76). Fortunately, as we shall 
see, Sidney was too wise to yield implicit obedience to his 
Mentor with reference to the neglect of Greek literature, 
and, even before writing the Defense, his eyes had been 
opened to the folly of excessive devotion to the niceties of 
Latin style. In 1580, when he had reached the age of 25, 
he wrote to his brother Robert : " So you can speak and 
write Latin not barbarously, I never require great study in 
Ciceronianism, the chief abuse of Oxford, qui, dum verba 
sectantur, res ipsas negligunt" [who, in their application to 
words, neglect the things themselves]. This sounds like an 
anticipation of Bacon's judgment {Adv. Learning, i. 4. 2, 3) : 
" This grew speedily to an excess ; for men began to hunt 
more after words than matter ; more after the choiceness 
of the phrase, and the round and clean composition of the 
sentence, and the sweet falling of the clauses, and the vary- 
ing and illustration of their works with tropes and figures, 


than after the weight of matter, worth of subject, soundness 
of argument, life of invention, or depth of judgment. . . . 
Here, therefore, is the first distemper of learning, when men 
study words and not matter." Yet, notwithstanding Sidney's 
discernment of this weighty truth, and the progress in sim- 
plicity made between the writing of the Arcadia and that 
of the Defense, it is but too evident that what may be 
called the vices of Ciceronianism still continued to corrupt 
his style in an appreciable degree, or else that the element 
of purer Atticism in it had not been an effectual antidote 
against the Asianism derived from other sources. 

In one respect the study of Cicero was an almost unmixed 
benefit to Sidney. More than any other author except Plu- 
tarch, Cicero seems to have acquainted him with the history 
of the ancient world. He was to Sidney a mine of informa- 
tion about all sorts of subjects — lives of men, traits of 
manners, and philosophies — besides supplying him with 
more than one epigrammatic sally which only needed to 
be translated into English, and deftly introduced, to adorn 
the page on which it appeared. 

With the two chief epic poets of antiquity, Homer and 
Virgil, Sidney had a familiar acquaintance. Virgil occupies 
the first place in his affections, but he is by no means insen- 
sible to the superior loftiness and naturalness of Homer. 
As a highly educated man of that day, he knew well his 
Horace and Ovid, the dramatists Plautus and Terence, the 
satirists Juvenal and Persius, the historians Livy, Suetonius, 
Justin, and even the authors of the Augustan Histories, mor- 
alists like Seneca and the Pseudo-Cato, and perhaps Lucre- 
tius and QuintiUan. Of these the first four were perhaps 
preferred to the others. More remarkable, because less 
usual at that day, was his knowledge of the Greeks. Be- 
sides Plutarch and Homer, who have already been men- 
tioned, he admires and repeatedly mentions the Cyropcedia 
of Xenophon. Of the three tragedians, he was apparently 


best acquainted with Euripides, though typical plays of both 
Sophocles and ^schylus had been included in his reading. 
Of Plato and Aristotle I speak under another head, that of 
Sidney's Theory of Poetry. Here it is sufficient to say that 
the dialogues of Plato which he had apparently studied with 
most care are the Ion, Symposium, Phtsdrus, Sophist, Phado, 
and Republic, and that he was conversant with at least 
the Poetics and Ethics of Aristotle, and perhaps with the 

The incidental mention of such authors as Solon, Tyrtaeus, 
and others, proves nothing as to Sidney's personal knowl- 
edge of their writings. Many of these names, like those of 
Orpheus and Musaeus, were freely introduced into literary 
works and learned discussions, merely on the strength of 
similar mention of them in ancient writings of a relatively 
late period, and the commonplaces concerning them are 
therefore to be expected in any sixteenth century pamphlet 
or treatise on the subject of poetry or literary history. But 
there are others, such as Herodotus and Theocritus, whom 
Sidney mentions in such a way as to lead us to believe 
that he knew them otherwise than from mere hearsay. Even 
the Greeks of the post-classical age were not beyond the 
pale of his curiosity, as is shown by his praise of the romance 
of Heliodorus. 

In his quotations from the ancients Sidney is frequently 
inaccurate. We should not infer that in this respect he is 
singular among the Elizabethans ; Bacon, not to mention 
others, does not always adhere strictly to the phraseology of 
his author. Such inaccuracy is of doubtful interpretation in 
an age not distinguished for scientific exactness. It may 
indicate either a deficiency or a plenitude of scholarship, 
and our decision in favor of the one or the other should 
depend upon collateral evidence. Evidence of this nature 
is not altogether wanting as respects the fulness and essen- 
tial justness of Sidney's learning. It is found in his general 


mastery of a difficult subject, but also in his manner of hand- 
ling, and as it were playing with, some of the quotations 
he employs. Now he changes the form of a verb from the 
second person to the first, in order to appropriate to himself 
a citation from Horace. Again for two nouns he substitutes 
their antonyms, that he may adapt a line from Ovid to his 
purpose. In these and similar cases his learning seems to 
be so entirely at command that he can mold and twist it 
to suit all the vagaries of a sportive humor. Less conclusive 
is his amplification of the famous apostrophe in the' First 
Oration against Catihne (53 24, note). Here, in his en- 
deavor to illustrate a rhetorical artifice, he appears to extend 
the quotation in order to make the illustration more telling. 
Unless the EUzabethan text of Cicero differed materially from 
that now accepted, this variation must be laid to the account 
of dishonesty or to that of a treacherous memory. No one 
who has formed an opinion concerning Sidney's character 
would accuse him of deliberate dishonesty, and hence we 
have no alternative except to suppose that his verbal memory 
was at times untrustworthy. All things considered, the accu- 
racy of his learning could probably be impeached, and has 
perhaps often been surpassed, by the best of our contem- 
porary writers ; yet it is none the less true that the extent 
of his reading, and the degree to which he rendered the 
substance of books tributary to the expression of his own 
convictions and essential manhood, might well put to shame 
many who are rightly esteemed his superiors in technical 
and minute scholarship. 

Sidney refers to numerous contemporary humanists, Ital- 
ian, German, French, and English, whose names it would be 
tedious and unprofitable to enumerate, especially as they are 
all contained in the Index of Proper Names. An exception 
must be made in favor of the elder Scaliger, to whose Poet- 
i^cs Sidney's indebtedness is not inconsiderable. In Italian 
hterature his range is from Dante to Ariosto, and in English 


from Chaucer to his personal friend Spenser. How lively 
was his interest in Italian authors we may infer from his 
friendship with Giordano Bruno, and the terms in which the 
latter dedicates to him- two of his important works. Sidney 
read Spanish wi^ ease, as we may infer not 'only from his 
imitation of Montemayor, but from his use of Oviedo, though 
it is just possible that the latter may have been accessible to 
him in translation. ^Vith respect to poetry there appears to 
have been a substantial identity of opinion on many points 
between himself and Cervantes, and, in a less degree, be- 
tween himself and Lope de Vega. Of his love for all that 
illustrated the riches of the English tongue, and of his ardent 
desire that the glories of its literature should be still further 
enhanced, these pages furnish ample proof. 

Finally, Sidney was a diligent and enthusiastic student of 
the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments, both in 
themselves and in commentaries upon them. Not only did 
he endeavor to guide his life according to their precepts, 
but he delighted in them as literature. His appreciation of 
the poetry of the Bible is shown by his translation of the first 
forty-three Psalms, and not less by his glowing, yet reverent, 
estimates of the parables of Christ, the liymns of Moses and 
Deborah, the dramatic poem of Job, and the lyric or didac- 
tic compositions of Solomon. In the Sacred Writings he 
discovered something that corresponded to every element of 
his manhood, and while their beauty and sublimity enthralled 
his aesthetic sensibility, he was ready to acknowledge in 
them a diviner efficacy which transcended the efforts of the 
human spirit to fathom, as when he exclaimed upon his 
death-bed, " How unsearchable the mysteries of God's Word 
are !" (Fox Bourne, p. 512.) 

4. Style. 

Sidney has sometimes been called a Etiphuist. This term 
has been so loosely .employed that it would be unprofitable 


to examine the appropriateness of tlie designation without 
first defining what is to be understood by Euphuism. For- 
tunately, substantial unanimity has been reached by the 
competent investigators of the subject, and it is possible to 
utilize, without lengthy beating of the air, the labors of a 
scholar who is recognized as one of the foremost expounders 
of the modern theory of Euphuism. This authority. Dr. 
Frederick Landmann, has formulated the law of Euphuism 
in the following brief sentence {Euphues, Heilbronn 1887, 
Introduction, p. xv, note) : " I consider transverse allitera- 
tion in parisonic antithetical or parallel clauses as the indis- 
pensable criterion of the presence of Euphuism." 

This sentence is enigmatic in proportion to its brevity, 
and demands a commentary to make it intelligible. The 
commentary, which will be extracted from the same work, 
adds to the criterion already given a third peculiarity, which 
Landmann seems to regard as inferior in importance to 
the one, or rather two, comprised in the sentence already 
quoted (Landmann, pp. xv-xvi) : "We here have the most 
elaborate antithesis not only of well-balanced sentences, but 
also of words, often even of syllables. . . . Even when he 
uses a single sentence, he opposes the words within this 
clause to each other. When we find a principal and a sub- 
ordinate clause we may be sure that two, three or all of the 
words of the former are opposed to an equal number in the 
latter. This we call parisonic antithesis. . . . The sec- 
ond class of elements peculiar to Lyly's style are alliteration, 
consonance, rhyme, playing upon words, and the use of 
syllables sounding alike. These embellishments he uses to 
point out the respective corresponding words in his antithet- 
ical clauses. It is not continuous alliteration as we have it 
in almost every writer of the sixteenth century from Surrey 
to Spenser, which was condemned by ^Vilson, Puttenham, 
and others, but transverse, as it has been very aptly termed 
by ^^' eymouth ; e.g. ' Although hetherto Euphues I have ; 


jArined thee in my Aeart for a /rustle /riende, I will jAunne 
thee Aeerafter as a /bothies ybe.' The third distinctive ele- 
ment of Euphuism is the tendency to confirm a statement 
by a long series of illustrations, comparisons, exempla and 
short similes, nearly always introduced by ' for as — ' ; these 
he takes from ancient history and mythology, from daily life, 
and, last but not least, from Pliny's fabulous natural history, 
translating Pliny literally in the latter case." 

Landmann's opinion concerning Sidney's style is based 
upon the Arcadia, and it is in this, rather than in the De- 
fense, that we should expect to find the distinctive marks of 
Euphuism. Notwithstanding, Landmann denies that Sidney 
belongs to this school (p. xxx) : " But we see that Sidney 
avoided Lyly's artificial combination of parisonic antithesis 
with transverse alliteration, as well as his absurd similes taken 
from Pliny ; in other words, the most characteristic elements 
of Euphuism." The statement concerning the similes from 
natural and unnatural history is confirmed by the quotation 
from Drayton, cited in the note to 54 12. In only one sen- 
tence of the Defense (2 24-27) is there any indication to 
the contrary, and this I surmise to have been intended as a 
parody of Gosson's manner (see the note on this passage) . 

The stylistic peculiarities of Sidney's romance Landmann 
comprehends under the term Arcadianism, which he thus 
describes (p. xxviii) : "The elements of style in Sidney's 
Arcadia are different from those of Euphuism. In brief, 
they consist in endless tedious sentences, one sometimes 
filling a whole page, in the fondness for details, and in the 
description of the beauties of rural scenery. Instead of 
Lyly's exempla and shortened similes with ' for as — so,' we 
here have minutely worked out comparisons and conceits 
couched in excessively metaphorical language, quaint circum- 
locutions for simple expressions, and bold personifications of 
inanimate objects. Besides, Sidney is fond of playing upon 
words, and is not averse to simple alliteration." 


Having thus distinguished Arcadianism from Euphuism, 
Landmann affords us no further aid in determining to what 
extent, if at all, the style of the Defense is Arcadian. This, 
however, we can readily do for ourselves. Of the charac- 
teristics noted by Landmann, we may at once dismiss all 
except the very last. As shown in the note on 4 ii, Sid- 
ney is indeed fond of playing upon words, and occasionally 
indulges in alliteration. The instances of the latter are but 
few, and would never be remarked were it not for the verbal 
jingles which fall under the former head. At times this 
vainly repetitious form of Arcadianism is nothing but Cic- 
eronianism of a rather indefensible sort, and any censure 
passed upon Sidney for his transgression of good taste is but 
too apt to light upon the idol of the Renaissance humanists 
(cf. note on 64 32). It was hardly to be expected that this 
stumbling-block should be altogether avoided by men who 
thought it a venial fault to love language in some measure 
for its own sake, — so long at least as they were under the 
exclusive sway of the Latins. We must not forget that it 
was a besetting peccadillo of Shakespeare, and does it not 
too often excite the smile of pitying derision as we turn 
the majestic page of Milton? Nothing less than passionate 
reverence for the severe purity of the chastest Attic could 
avail to remove this blemish from modern writing. But at 
that time a familiarity with Greek models of composition 
naturally drew after it a practice scarcely less opposed to 
the more rigorous canons of artistic prose. 

The employment of such compound words as are fitted 
to heighten the style of dithyrambic and other elevated poe- 
try, was interdicted to prose on the authority of Aristotle. 
The formation of these compounds is alien to the genius of 
certain modern tongues, such as French. Yet even this 
native lack of plasticity was vanquished, for a time at 
least, by the Hellenizing impulse which swept over the six- 
teenth century. The stubbornness of French was forced tg 


yield to the pertinacity of Du Bartas, while the more pliable 
English, mindful of an earlier power which had been spell- 
bound into enacting the part of the Sleeping Beauty, re- 
sponded quickly to the efforts made by Chapman and others 
to imitate in their own tongue the magnificent rhythmical 
combinations which constitute so material a part of the 
Homeric and Pindaric charm. The reward of Du Bartas 
was a doubtful and ephemeral success ; the fashion he set 
soon went the way of all attempts to set aside natural law. 
French poetry promptly discarded these compounds, and 
it may be said that French prose never accepted them. 
Not so in England. Here they were soon rendered popular 
in consequence of their adoption by the dramatists, and 
even earlier began to appear in prose fiction. These com- 
pounds form one feature of Arcadianism, and one which 
Sidney never wholly outgrew. Accordingly we find them 
scattered throughout the Defense, just as they occur in the 
more florid prose of our own day (cf. note on 5u 25). 
Whatever may be urged against their employment, they are 
certainly an indication of formative energy, and the state- 
ment of a literary historian about Lucretius may be applied, 
with an obvious difference, to Sidney (Sellar, Roman Poets 
of the Republic, p. 382) : "His abundant use of compound 
words, . . : most of which fell into disuse in the Augus- 
tan age, [was a product]- of the same creative force which 
enabled Plautus and Ennius to add largely to the resources 
of the Latin tongue. In him, more than in any Latin poet 
before or after him, we meet with phrases too full of imagi- 
native life to be in perfect keeping with the more sober 
tones and tamer spirit of the national literature." 

It would be tedious to enumerate the specific marks of 
Sidney's prose as exhibited in his essay. This task may 
well be reserved for those who undertake a systematic study 
of his tractate with reference to the illustration of rhetorical 
principles or historical tendencies. The key to many 01 Us 


peculiarities will, however, be found in one or two general 
considerations. First of all, Sidney's may be called an emo- 
tional prose. There is a prose of Hght only, and there is 
another of light and heat conjoined. That of Sidney belongs 
to the latter class. It seeks to persuade, and is in that sense 
oratorical ; Hallam even calls it declamatory. Yet while 
in its argumentative sequences it falls under the head of 
oratory, in its procession from the emotions and frequent 
appeal to them, in its imagery and melodious rhythm, it has 
something in common with poetry. In this union of quali- 
ties will be found ahke its merits and its defects. 

There is a somewhat different point of view from which 
the whole may be regarded. Though the author of the 
Defense had before him the finished prose of other nations 
and languages, he stood at the formative period of an artis- 
tic prose in English, and the conditions under which all men 
work at such epochs are less materially affected by their 
acquaintance with existing models in other tongues than 
may at first thought be supposed. They know and perhaps 
approve the better, but instinctively or deliberately follow 
the worse ; or, in the absence of approved precedent, they 
attempt to fashion an organ for the more purely intellectual 
faculties, and find themselves slipping back into the bal- 
anced constructions and regular cadences of verse. The 
era of the English Renaissance has in this respect many 
points of resemblance with the intellectual awakening of 
Greece after the Persian wars. The evolution of Greek 
prose finds its counterpart in the struggle to shape a literary 
medium in English for thought too purely rational and utili- 
tarian in its character to be fitly couched in the ornate dic- 
tion and measured rhythms of poetry. The description of 
the former by an accomplished living scholar will fairly 
characterize the stage through which the more ambitious 
Enghsh prose was at this time passing (Jebb, Attic Orators 
I. 18-21) : "The outburst of intellectual life in Hellas 


during the fifth century before Christ had for one of its 
results the creation of Greek prose. Before that age no 
Greek had conceived artistic composition except in the form 
of poetry. . . '. As the mental horizon of Greece was widened, 
as subtler ideas and more various combinations began to ask 
for closer and more flexible expression, the desire grew for 
something more precise than poetry, firmer and more com- 
pact than the idiom of conversation. Two special causes 
aided this general tendency. The development of demo- 
cratic life, making the faculty of speech before popular 
assemblies and popular law-courts a necessity, hastened the 
formation of an oratorical prose. The Persian wars, by 
changing Hellenic unity from a sentiment into a fact, and 
reminding men that there was a corporate life, higher and 
grander than that of the individual city, of which the story 
might be told, supplied a new motive to historical prose. . . . 
But the process of maturing the new kind of composition 
was necessarily slow ; for it required, as its first condition, 
little less than the creation of a new language, of an idiom 
neither poetical nor mean. Herodotos, at the middle point 
of the fifth century, shows the poetical element still prepon- 
derant. . . . The prose-writer of this epoch instinctively 
compares himself with the poet. ... He does not care to 
be simply right and clear : rather he desires to have the 
whole advantage which his skill gives him over ordinary 
men ; he is eager to bring his thoughts down upon them 
with a splendid and irresistible force. ... At the moment 
when prose was striving to disengage itself from the diction 
of poetry, Gorgias gave currency to the notion that poetical 
ornament of the most florid type was its true charm. When, 
indeed, he went further, and sought to imitate the rhythm 
as well as the phrase of poetry, this very extravagance had 
a useful result. Prose has a rhythm, though not of the kind 
at which Gorgias aimed ; and the mere fact of the Greek 
ear becoming accustomed to look for a certain proportion 


between the parts of a sentence hastened the transition 
from the old running style to the periodic." 

Jebb still further characterizes the Gorgian manner in his 
Introduction, pp. cxxvi-cxxvii : " That which was to the 
Athenians ... the element of distinction in the Sicilian's 
speaking was its poetical character ; and this depended on 
two things — the use of poetical words, and the use of sym- 
metry or assonance between clauses in such a way as to 
give a strongly marked prose-rhythm and to' reproduce, as 
far as possible, the metres of verse. . . . Gorgias was the 
first man who definitely conceived how literary prose might 
be artistic. That he should instinctively compare it with 
the only other form of literature which was already artistic, 
namely poetry, was inevitable. Early prose necessarily 
begins by comparing itself with poetry." 

If the Euphuistic and Arcadian prose of the sixteenth 
century be read in the light of this account of tlie Gorgian 
writing, it will be impossible to overlook certain points of 
similarity, and equally impossible to ignore certain resem- 
blances in the conditions under which the Greek and the 
English prose were respectively developed. But in insti- 
tuting such a comparison, there are important differences 
which must not be disregarded, though there is no space 
to touch upon them here. And whatever conclusions are 
reached respecting Euphuism and Arcadianism must cer- 
tainly undergo modification before proving applicable to the 
style of the Defense. 

5. Theory of Poetry. 

The theory of poetry advanced by Sidney is, in its essen- 
tials, the oldest of which we have any knowledge, so old, 
indeed, that by Sidney's time the world had well-nigh for- 
gotten it, or had deliberately chosen to ignore it. This 
theory may be expressed in words borrowed from Shelley's 
Defense of Poetry, a work many of whose chief positions 


are almost precise counterparts of those assumed by Sidney : 
"A poet participates in the eternal, the infinite, and the 
one. . . . Poetry in a more restricted sense expresses those 
arrangements of language, and especially metrical language, 
which are created by that imperial faculty whose throne is 
curtained within the invisible nature of man." Is it indeed 
true that these words represent Sidney's conception, and, 
if so, how is this conception related to the chief rival 
theories which have been, or were then, current? This is 
the question we have briefly to examine. 

Sidney assumes that there is an architectonic science, in 
this following the lead of Aristotle, who in his Ethics (see 
the note on 12 32 of the Defense) demands this rank for 
what he calls Political Science, but what we are accustomed 
^o term Moral Philosophy. Speaking as an ethnic, Aristode 
had virtually said : " Above all other learnings stands moral 
philosophy, for it points out the goal of all wisely directed 
human effort." Speaking as a Christian, Sidney in effect 
exclaims : " Above all secular learnings stands poetry, for it 
appropriates the purest ethical teaching, and presents it in 
a form universally attractive and intensely stimulating." 
Even in making this statement Sidney is following the lead 
of Aristotle, who had thus exalted poetry : " Poetry is of a 
more philosophical and serious character than history " (see 
note on 18 25). Had Aristotle been asked to determine 
the relative values of ethics, poetry, and history in a 
descending scale, he would perhaps have hesitated before 
giving a categorical answer ; had he been urged, he would 
hardly have done otherwise than arrange them in the order 
named. Sidney's reply is different. He practically divides 
the whole of ethics into religion and natural ethics, the 
latter being understood as moral philosophy unattended 
with any diviner sanction than such as is derived from the 
evident nature of things and the purest intuitions of the 
human spirit. To the former he assigns an indisputable 


preeminence, but removes it from the province of discus- 
sion by asserting that he is concerned with secular learning 
only. The latter, or natural ethics, human philosophy as 
bearing upon the conduct of Hfe, he makes distincdy in- 
ferior to poetry, because, unsupported by the sanctions of 
revealed religion, it is provided with no adequate motive 
force. Such a motive force may, however, be supplied by 
the imaginative presentation of the respective consequences 
of good and evil action, but, when thus supplied, it converts 
philosophy into something superior to philosophy : ethics 
has become poetry. Thus Homer had taught the whole 
Hellenic race; thus ^schylus had taught the Athenian 
democracy. It follows that every creative poet — for it is 
of creative poets that Sidney is speaking — must be in a 
/vtrue sense a philosopher, though it is by no means true that 
every philosopher is necessarily a poet. 

We may now return to our point of departure in Shelley's 
definition. "A poet," he says, " participates in the eternal, 
the infinite, and the one." But may we not with equal 
truth affirm that the philosopher participates in the eternal, 
the infinite, and the one ? And indeed the statement thus 
far is true of both, — the philosopher and the creative poet. 
Both, under the veil of phenomena, through the dim glass 
of appearance, descry the pure and radiant form of truth. 
To the vision of both — this time emplopng the beautiful 
words of Shelley in the Adonais — 

The One remains, the Many change and pass; 
Heaven's light for ever shines, Earth's shadows fly; 
Life, like a dome of many-colored glass, 
Stains the white radiance of Eternity. 

What, then, is the difference between them? It is this. 
When the philosopher has discovered the One in the Many, 
the principle of unity embracing the variety of phenomena, 
he must pause, or, if he seem to proceed, if he respond to 


the urgent desire of men that he shall furnish them with a 
guide to life, a clue through the tangled maze of earthly 
vicissitude, he is reduced to the presentation of cold 
aiialyses, or the bare enunciation of a moral dictum, a cate- 
gorical imperative. Not so the poet. He also affirms, but 
he likewise stirs the feelings. He also affirms, but the form 
of his affirmation, in its exquisite blending of truth with 
symbol, in its representation of the hidden verity by a cun- 
ning arrangement of the lovely shows of things, delights 
every sense and faculty of the whole being. Poetry thus 
actualizes what in philosophy is only potential. Philosophy 
is a Merlin, but a Merlin shut away from the world in a 
hollow oak, through some charm " of woven paces and of 
waving hands " which effectually debars it from exercising 
its natural prerogative, the ordering of human lives accord- 
ing to the eternal idea of the good, the necessary, and the 
wue. But poetry is a Prospero whom the lightest airs of 
heaven obey, and whose empire is absolute over the hearts 
and consciences of men. The ugly and the vicious may 
grumble at its dominion, but are powerless, are even half- 
won to reverence for the viewless might by which they are 
fettered ; while all gentle spirits rejoice in being so sweetly 
attuned to the central harmonies of Order and Law, and in 
finding their heedless courses wrought, through a constrain- 
ing magic, into patterns of an endless and most felicitous 

We can thus understand how Sidney the Puritan was 
also Sidney the poet, and how religion and creative poetry 
were to him almost as sisters. Both assume this function of 
guidance, both exercise it to the noblest ends, and both 
achieve their purpose through the kindling of the imagina- 
tion and an appeal to the emotio nal natur e. The one, it is 
true, lays direct claim to "aT divine mission ; the other, 
though conscious of its divine origin, is often content to be 
regarded merely as the efflux of the exalted and enraptured 


human soul. But is there not a point where the two coa- 
lesce? Who, were he to encounter for the first time the 
following passage from the Phadrus of Plato, dissociated 
from its context, could tell whether the author was speaking 
of poetry or religion — or perchance of philosophy tinged 
with emotion ? /" And he who employs aright these memories 
is ever being initiated into perfect mysteries and alone be- 
comes truly perfect. But, as he forgets earthly interests 
and is rapt in the divine, the vulgar deem him mad, and 
rebuke him ; they do not see that he is inspired. Thus far 
I have been speaking of the fourth and last kind of madness, 
which is imputed to him who, when he sees the beauty of 
earth, is transported with the recollection of the true beauty ; 
he would like to fly away, but he cannot ; he is like a bird 
fluttering and looking upward and careless of the world 
below; and he is therefore esteemed mad. And I have 
shown this of all inspirations to be the noblest and highest 
and the offspring of the highest 'Y(Jowett's tr., 2. 126). 
Or, suppose the word ' religion 'to be substituted for 
' poetry ' in these sentences from Schiller's Essay on Pathos 
(Hempel's tr., 2. 486), and note whether any susceptibility 
is shocked, or any convictions antagonized, by the affirmations 
thus made : " In the case of man poetry never executes a 
special business, and no instrument is less fitted to perform 
some special service. Her sphere of action is the totality 
of human nature ; she can only affect single traits or acts 
by affecting human character generally. Poetry may be to 
man what love is to the hero. She can neither advise him, 
nor fight his battles, nor perform any other work for him ; 
but she may educate him to become a hero, she may call 
him to perform deeds, she may arm him with strength." 

Sidney's theory might be illustrated by the practice of the 
more illustrious of Dante's contemporaries and thirteenth 
century predecessors, especially by that of such poets as 
Wolfram von Eschenbach and Guido Guinicelli. The tech- 


nic invented or perfected by the troubadours, and which 
they had employed in amatory, satirical, or martial compo- 
sitions, had become, in the course of time, the instrument 
of philosophy. A definite meaning was now embodied by 
the poet in his verse, and this meaning comprehended 
much more than the incidents of a tale, or the longing for 
a beloved one. It was not exhausted when considered as 
an attack upon a personal enemy, or as an exhortation to 
deeds of physical valor. Dante himself, alike in his theory 
and his practice, furnishes the most convenient exponent of 
this conception of poetry as the teacher and guide of men, 
full of significance when apparently most sensuous, intend- 
ing the spiritual and transcendent when most occupied with 
colors, and odors, and sweet sounds. In both the New Life 
and the Banquet {Convito) Dante gives lengthy exposi- 
tions of a few poems, revealing by analysis the fundamental 
truths which determined the structure and even the orna- 
ment of each. In the New Life (Rossetti's tr., p. 8i) he 
protests against meaningless poetry : " Neither did these 
ancient poets speak thus without consideration, nor should 
they who are makers of rime in our day write after the 
same fashion, having no reason in what they write ; for it 
it were a shameful thing if one should rime under the sem- 
blance of metaphor or rhetorical simihtude, and afterwards, 
being questioned thereof, should be able to rid his words of 
such semblance, unto their right understanding. Of whom 
(to wit, of such as rime thus foolishly) myself and the 
first among my friends do know many." And in his Letter 
to Can Grande, in which he explains the scope and purport 
of the Divine Comedy, he says (Hillard's tr., pp. 393, 396) : 
" There are^ix things, therefore, that must be sought out in 
beginning any instructive work ; that is to say, the subject, 
the agent, the form, the end, the title of the book, and the 
nature of its philosophy. . . . Setting aside all subtlety of 
investigation, we may say briefly that the end of both (the 


whole and the part) is to rescue those who live in this life 
from their state of misery, and to guide them to the state of 
blessedness. The nature of the philosophy governing both 
the whole and the part is moral action, or ethics, because 
the object of the whole work is not speculative, but practi- 
cal. Therefore, even if certain places or passages are 
treated in a speculative manner, this is not for the sake of 
speculation, but of operation." The substantial identity of 
Dante's theory of poetry with that of Sidney, will, in the 
light of these and similar passages, scarcely be questioned 
(cf. 64 2 ff., 13 1 ff.). 

But it is perhaps more obvious to compare Sidney, the 
Puritan and poet, with Milton, the Puritan and poet. Does 
not Milton seem to be reviving the memory of Sidney, as 
well as tracing an ideal for himself, in the well-known pas- 
sage from the Apology for Smectymnuiis : " I was confirmed 
in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his 
hope to write well hereafter in laudable things ought him- 
self to be a true poem, — that is, a composition of the best 
and honorablest things ; not presuming to sing high praises 
of heroic men or famous cities, unless he have in himself 
the experience and the practice of all that which is praise- 
worthy." When Sidney says of the poet, " For he doth not 
only show the way, but giveth so sweet a prospect into the 
way as will entice any man to enter into it " (see 23 15 ff.), 
are we not reminded of Milton's words in the Reason of 
Church Government: "Teaching over the whole book of 
sanctity and virtue through all the instances of example, 
with such delight — to those especially of soft and delicious 
temper, who will not so much as look upon truth herself 
unless they see her elegantly dressed — that, whereas the 
paths of honesty and good life appear now rugged and diffi- 
cult though they be indeed easy and pleasant, they will then 
appear to all men both easy and pleasant though they 
were rugged and difficult indeed." Milton, like Sidney, 


had a keen aesthetic appreciation of the poetical parts of 
the Bible, as appears from his estimate of the Song of 
Solomon and the Book of Revelation, concluding with the 
following words {Reason of Church Government) : " But 
those frequent songs throughout the law and prophets be- 
yond all these, not in their divine argument alone, but in 
the very critical art of composition, may be easily made 
appear over all the kinds of lyric poesy to be incompar- 
able " (see 6 3 ff., 9 19 fif.). And Milton, like Sidney, in- 
veighs against those who persist in writing verse while still 
ignorant of the first principles of poetry conceived as an 
ethical force, or rather while deliberately inculcating the 
negation of all principle, and abandonment to the seduc- 
tions of vice. Thus again in the Reason of Church Gov- 
ernment, Milton denounces " the writings and interludes of 
libidinous and ignorant poetasters, who, having scarce ever 
heard of that which is the main consistence of a true poem, 
the choice of such persons as they ought to introduce, and 
what is moral and decent to each one, do for the most part 
lay up vicious principles in sweet pills to be swallowed down, 
and make the taste of virtuous documents harsh and sour " 
(cf. 45 20fr., 23 29fr.). 

These comparisons illustrate the consensus of opinion 
among men of different centuries, but substantially equal 
endowments, with respect to the ethical function of the 
highest creative poetry, and its kinship with religion. It 
can hardly be necessary to provide further proof that Sid- 
ney's position is not only defensible, but inexpugnable. As 
he himself says, poetry may be perverted and turned from 
its rightful use ; but this being true of every most excellent 
thing, we should not allow ourselves to be prejudiced by 
the fact of such abuse, otherwise, if we are logical, we shall 
approve of nothing, however blameless and salutary in its 
unpolluted state. 


Sidney owes much to Plato, but still more to Aristotle. 
Plato, in his joy over the new-found virtues of philosophy, 
was scarcely capable of recognizing poetry as a coordinate, 
much less a superior, power. He demanded a purer ethics 
as the guide of life than any which he found in the poetry 
then extant. That it taught moral lessons he could not 
deny ; but it was neither free from imperfections, nor did 
it contain, in his view, any sufficient self-regenerative or self- 
purifying principle. This must be supplied by philosophy. 
Failing to perceive that his own philosophy was merely a 
phase of poetry, dependent like poetry upon undemonstra- 
ble intuitions for its beauty and efficacy, he endeavored to 
sunder them by artificial distinctions, though such as must 
have had a certain validity to his own mind. But in the 
very act of dethroning poetry he gave it a new title to 
dominion. The spoils with which he endowed philosophy 
returned by inheritance to her elder sister and rival. Pla- 
tonism became the intellectual ally of Christianity, and 
Christianity generated a new poetry. Nay, Platonism itself 
reappeared in the intellectual awakening of modern Europe 
as the quickening impulse, in some instances as the very 
soul, of Italian and English poetry. Who can measure 
Michael Angelo's debt to Plato, or Spenser's ? In this 
debt Sidney shared, as his allusions clearly show. As Spen- 
ser would not have been the poet we know, had he been 
deprived of the influence of Plato, so neither would Sidney 
have been the essayist we know, had he not read and reread 
the burning pages where poetry strives to masquerade as 
philosophy, and betrays, by the very rhythm of her move- 
ments, her incapacity to keep the sober pace of reasoning 
prose. But as the framework of the Fairy Queen depends 
upon Aristotle's classification of the virtues, so the frame- 
work of the Defense of Poetry, or at least of its central and 
most important division, depends upon the opening para- 


graphs of Aristotle's Ethics and a few sentences from his 

That there is a branch of learning sovran over all the rest, ' 
that poetry is superior to history, and that poetry contains a 
philosophic element, — such were the cardinal truths which 
Sidney learned from Aristotle. From these premises Sidney 
deduced that, as poetry superadds a peculiar attractiveness 
to the philosophic element it embodies, it must in its eifects 
be superior to philosophy, as it is, by the demonstration of 
Aristotle, to history, and that it must accordingly be entitled 
to the highest rank among secular learnings. This being 
granted, the further course of his main argument follows inj 
natural sequence. 

Sidney was not unacquainted with Dante, and there are 
even reasons for supposing that he may have perused one 
or more of Dante's prose treatises. If the evidence derived 
from the quotations from Dante on a preceding page is re- 
garded as slight, this may be supplemented by other con- 
siderations. In his Convito, which is largely based upon 
Aristotle's Ethics, Dante, like Sidney, enters into a defense 
of his mother-tongue. Sidney, near the close of his argu- 
ment, supplements this defense of EngUsh with a discussion 
of its prosody, apparently following the example of Dante in 
his De Vulgari Eloquio. Even more curious is the circum- 
stance that Dante attributes the same two senses to the 
word • rime ' as does Sidney (see note on 56 it) . In the 
Convito (Hillard's tr., p. 233), Dante thus distinguishes 
between these senses : " Strictly speaking, it [i.e. rime] 
means that correspondence of the ultimate and penultimate 
syllables which it is customary to use ; generally speaking, 
it means any speech which, regulated by number and time, 
falls into rhythmic consonance." These correspondences 
will hardly be thought accidental, and must incUne us to the 
belief that Sidney had Dante's prose writing in mind in 
composing his own treatise. The improbability that two 


authors, one in Italian and the other in English, should in- 
dependently arrive, in the treatment of themes then so novel 
in their respective tongues, at so similar a mode of intro- 
ducing the same subsidiary topics, is too evident to require 

Grosart, in his edition of Spenser, suggests that Sidney 
may have utilized Spenser's unpublished treatise, The Eng- 
lish Poet. Thus he says (i. 99) : " If not bodily, yet largely, 
I like to think that we have The Ettglishe Poet utilized at 
least in Sidney's Apology or Defense of Poetry. It is also 
to be remembered it was posthumously pubKshed." And 
again (i. 453-4) : "I may be wrong, but I have a soup- 
(on of suspicion that if Sir Philip Sidney had hved to have 
published his Defense of Poesy himself, there would have 
been an acknowledgment of indebtedness to Spenser in 
its composition. Is it utterly improbable — as I ventured 
earUer to suggest — that Sir Philip should have incorporated 
or adapted the English Poet of Spenser in his Defense ? I 
trow not. Only thus can I understand its suppression when 
' finished ' and ready for the press." Since we know nothing 
of the contents of Spenser's work, this surmise is incapable 
of confirmation, and the question thus raised must for ever 
remain indeterminable. 

,To sum up our chief results, Sidney's fundamental doc- 
trine is true of the highest creative poetry, and in general 
of the noblest literature produced by the creative imagina- 
tion, whether executed in verse or prose. This doctrine is 
founded upon Aristotle's teaching, and leavened with the 
best of Plato's spirit, as interpreted and supplemented by 
Christianity and the literature produced under Christian 
influence. Of the latter Dante was probably recognized 
by Sidney as the foremost representative, and he may thus 
have come to be accepted as Sidney's guide in the concep- 
tion and arrangement of some of the minor topics of the 
Defense. Finally, his threefold division of poetry is taken 


from Scaliger's Poetics (see note on On). A reference 
to the Analysis (p. xH ff.) will suffice to show the nature and 
extent of Sidney's originality, after allowance has been made 
for his .borrowings from predecessors. 

6. Followers and Imftators. 

Sidney's Defense must have been extensively circulated 
in manuscript before its publication in 1595. Extensive 
quotations from it are found in Puttenham's Art of English 
Poesy, published in 1589 ; in Harington's Apology of Poetry, 
prefixed to the first edition of his translation of the Orlando 
Furioso, and published in 1591 ; and in Meres' Palladis 
Tamia, 1598. These have all been reprinted in Hasle- 
wood's Critical Essays upon English Poets and Poesy, Lon- 
don, 2 vols., the first volume bearing date of 1811, the second 
of 1 81 5. This edition is the one which has been cited in the 
notes to the present volume. Harington is outspoken with 
regard to his knowledge of Sidney (Haslewood, 2. 123) : 
" For as for all, or the most part, of such questions, I will 
refer you to Sir Philip Sidney's Apology, who doth handle 
them right learnedly." The obligations of the others, how- 
ever, are no less evident, and it is instructive to observe 
how Meres makes literal excerpts from Sidney, while Put- 
tenham now adopts his method of treatment, and now em- 
ploys his illustrations, or slightly varies his phraseology. 

Among modems it is difficult to believe that Shelley was 
ignorant of Sidney's tractate, though the similarities of opin- 
ion may be due to familiarity with common sources in Plato 
and Aristotle, or to the deeper insight of which genius alone 
is capable. As to modem imitations in general, it will suf- 
fice to quote from the essay on the Defense in Vol. 10 of 
the Retrospective Review, published in 1824: "Should it 
occur to the reader, in the midst of his admiration of these 
passages, that he has met with something like, parts of them 


before, we can readily believe that he is not mistaken ; for 
the truth is, that the Defense of Poesy has formed the staple 
of all the ' thousand and one ' dissertations on that art, with 
which our magazines and reviews have teemed during the 
last twenty years." 


Introduction. Anecdote of Pugliano, and transition to subject piopet, 
1 1-2 17. 

I. Poetry the earliest of teachers, 2 18—5 7. 

A. Philosophy a borrower from poetry, 3 16—4 4. 

B. History a borrower from poetry, 4 5-15. 

C. The rudest and most untutored nations not without poetry, 

4 16— S 7. 

II. Honorable names bestowed upon the poet, 5 8—9 6. 

A. The Romans called him a prophet or seer, 5 12—6 2. ^ 

B. David should accordingly be ranked as a poet, 6 3-26. 

C. The Greeks called the poet a maker, 6 27-33. 

D. This title rightfully belongs to him, 6 33—9 5. 

1. Other arts are cherished as the handmaids of nature and 

compendiums of the rules she observes, 6 33—7 25. 

2. The poet creates a second nature, devising it after an 

archetypal pattern in his mintd, 7 26—9 5. 

a. He creates the external world anew, 7 34—8 4. 

b. He creates man^anew, 8 5-25. 

c. His relation to the Heavenly Maker, 8 25—9 6. 

III. The definition and divisions of poetry, 9 6—11 31. 
i^A.. Definition, 9 12-16. 

B. First division : Hymns and Religious Odes, Hebrew and eth- 

nic, 9 17-33. 

C. Second division : Didactic Poetry, 9 34—10 5. 

D. Third division : Creative Poetry, or Poetry in the strictest and 

truest sense, 10 6-35. 

E. Subdivisions of poetry, 11 1-4. 
^•-^. Verse not essential to poetry, 11 4-26. 

G. Verse the fittest raiment of poetry, 11 2.5-31. 


IV. Creative Poetry examined with reference to its rank and virtue, 
11 32-31 17. 
A. Creative Poetry in general as the guide and inspiration to the 
supreme end of earthly learning, virtuous action, 11 32 — 26 11. 

1. The Chief or Architectonic Science, and its relation to the 
subordinate sciences, 12 1—13 6. 

2. Consideration of the claims of the three principal competi- 

tors for the title of Architectonic Science, namely, 
(Moral) Pyiosophy, History, and Poetry, and award 
of the preeminence to Poetry, 13 6—26 11. 

a. Pretensions of Philosophy, 13 6-26. 

b. Pretensions of History, 13 27—14 23. 

c. Poetry confessedly inferior to Divinity, but far superioi 

to Law, both of which may therefore be eliminated 
from the discission, 14 24—15 14. 

d. Philosophy has only the precept. History only the ex- 

ample, IS 16-30. 

e. Poetry superior to Philosophy, since it embodies the 

philosopher's precept in an example, the abstract 

principle in a concrete illustration, 15 31—1622. 
/ Examples from secular poets, 16 23—17 31, and from 

the parables of Christ, 1732—1810, of the power 

of Poetry as compared with' that of Philosophy, 

16 23-18 10. 
g. Philosophy abstruse. Poetry intelligible to all, 18 11-19. 
h. Poetry more philosophical than History, because more 

universal in its content, 18 20 — 192. 
i. Record of fact to be distinguished from guidance o{ 

life, 193-7. 
j. The heroes of History, unlike those of Poetry, cannot 

be accepted Ss models, 19 18—20 7. 
k. The tales imagined by Poetry are no less instructive 

than those related by History, are indeed more 

effective, 20 8-28. 
/. Poetry shapes the raw material furnished by History, 

■^^M. Poetry, not History, is the due rewarder of virtue and 

punisher of vice, 21 4—22 6. 
^n. Poetry, unlike History, and especially Philosophy, not 

only instructs, but stimulates and impels, providing 

incentives to learning as well as the learning itself, 

22 7-2S 2. 


o. Two examples of the powerful effects produced by 

poetically devised tales, 25 3—26 2. 
p. Poetry is therefore the noblest of all secular learnings, 
26 3-11. 
B. The subdivisions of Creative Poetry with reference to theii 
several virtues, 2612—31 17. 

1 . Mixed species may be disregarded, 26 19-30. 

2. The pastoral, 26 31—27 11. 

3. The elegiac, 27 12-18. 

4. The iambic, 27 19-21. 

5. The satiric, 27 22-30. 

6. Comedy, 27 31—28 24. 

7. Tragedy, 28 25-29 13. 

8. The lyric, 29 14—30 11. 

9. The epic, 30 12—31 17. 

V. First Summary, of arguments adduced, 31 18—32 7. 

VI. Objections against Poetry, and refutation of them, 32 8—44 2. 
A. Minor considerations, 32 14 — 34 237 

1 . Sophistical tricks to obscure the point at issue, 32 14—33 9. 

2. Reply to the objections brought against rime and metre, 

33 10—34 23. 

a. Ririie and metre the musical framework of perfect 

speech, 33 16-24. 

b. Rime and metre the best aids to memory, 33 28—34 2a 
E. The cardinal objections and the answers to each, 34 24 — 44 2. 

1. The four objections, 34 24—35 8. 

a. Other knowledges more fruitful, 34 26-29. 
U b. Poetry the parent of lies, 34 30. 

c. Poetry the nurse of abuse, 34 31—35 4. 
— —d. -Plato condemned poetry, 35 6-8. 

2. The objections answered, 35 9—442. 

a. Refutation of first. Previous proof adduced, 35 9-20. 

b. Refutation of second. Impossibility demonstrated, 

35 21-377. 
e. Refutation of third, 37 8—40 32. 

aa. Abuse no argument against right use, 378-38 2& 
bb. Poetry not incompatible with action and martiaJ 
courage, 38 29—40 32. 

r^. Refutation of fourth, 4033-442. 
w aa. Sidney's reverence for Plato, 4033-41 4. 


bb. As a phUosopher, Plato might be thought a 
natural enemy of poets, 41 5-26. 

cc. The morals he taught by no means superior t| 
those inculcated by the poets, 41 26—42 3. 

dd. But Plato meant to condemn only the abuse of 
poetry, not the thing itself, 42 3-10. 

ee. Plato would have had a purer religion taught, 
but this objection has been removed by the 
advent of Christianity, 42 10—43 1. 

ff. Plato goes further than Sidney himself, in making 
poetry depend on a divine inspiration, 43 1-16, 

gg. The multitude of great men, Socrates and Aris- 
totle included, who have countenanced poe- 
7 try, 43 16—44 2. 

VII. Second Summary, of objections refuted, 44 3-13. 

VIII. The state of English poetry, 44 14-56 35. 

A. Poetry, anciently and latterly held in estimation in other 

countries, and formerly even in England, is novif despised, 
44 14—45 20. 

B. Hence only base men undertake it, 45 20—46 2. 

C. Poetry not to be learned and practised as a trade, 46 3—47 6. 

D. Estimates of English poetry, with respect to matter (and com- 

position in general), 47 6— 51 32. 
I . Chaucer, Sackville, Surrey, and Spenser praised with mod- 
eration, Sidney not ranking himself with poets (cf. 
468-11, 55 6-10), 476-27. 
w 2. Defects of the English drama, 47 28-52 10. 

a. Disregards unity of place, 48 11-25. 

b. Disregards unity of time, 48 26 — 49 18. 

c. Disregards unity of action, 49 19—502. 

d. Mingles tragedy and comedy, SO 3-22. 

e. Broad farce usurps the place of comedy, SO 23— S2 4. 
3. The lyric, which might well sing the Divine beauty and 

goodness (52 12-19), is fri^d and affected in celebrat- 
ing human love, 52 11-32. 
i^_^ E. English poetry with respect to diction, 52 33-56 36. 

1. Affectations in diction, 52 33—53 6. 

2. Excursus upon euphuism in prose, 53 7—55 10. 

a. The excessive employment of phrases and figures bor- 
rowed from the ancients, S3 10—54 4. 


b. Superabundance of similes, especially of such as are 
drawn from the animal and vegetable kingdoms, 
54 6-15. 

e. The means should not be suffered to obscure the end, 
54 16-35. 

d. Apology for the digression, 55 1-10. 

^^ 3, The English language favorable to poetry, 55 10—56 36. 
a. Equal to all demands upon it, 55 10—12. 
i. Its composite nature an advantage, 55 13-15. 

e. The grammarless tongue, 55 16-22. 
d. Its compound words, 55 22-27. 

^ 4. English versification the best for modern poetry, 5528— 

a. Ancient and modern versification, 55 28—56 7. 

b. English best adapted to modern metre, 56 7-22. 

c. And to riming, 56 23-35. 

IX. Third Summary. General review, 57 1-27. 
Humorous peroration, 57 2&— 58 16. 


When the right virtuous Edward Wotton and I were at 
the Emperor's court together, we gave ourselves to learn 
horsemanship of John Pietro Pugliano, one that with 
great commendation had the place of an esquire in his 
stable ; and he, according to the fertileness of the Italian 5 
wit, did not only afford us the demonstration of his prac- 
tice, but sought to enrich our minds with the contempla-i 
tions therein which he thought most precious. But withi 
none I remember mine ears were at any time more 
loaden, than when — either angered with slow payment, m 
or moved with our learner-like admiration — he exercised 
his speech in the praise of his faculty. He said soldiers 
were the noblest estate of mankind, and horsemen the 
noblest of soldiers. He said they were the masters of " 
war and ornaments of peace, speedy goers and strong 13 
abiders, triumphers both in camps and courts. Nay, to 
so unbelieved a point he proceeded, as that no earthly 
thing bred such wonder to a prince as to be a good 
horseman ; skill of government was but a. pedanteria in 
comparison. Then would he add certain praises, by tell- so 
ing what a peerless beast the horse was, the only service- 
able courtier without flattery, the. beast of most beauty, 
faithfulness, courage, and such more, that if I had not 
been a piece of a logician before I came to him, I think 
he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a 25 
horse. But thus much at least with his no few words he 
drave into me, that self-love is better than any gilding to 
make that seem gorgeous wherein ourselves be parties. 


Wherein if Pugliano's strong affection and weak argU" 
ments will hot satisfy you, I will give you a nearer ex- 
ample of myself, who, I know not by what mischance, in 
these my not old years and idlest times, having slipped 
5 into the title of a poet, am provoked to say something 
unto you in the defense of that my/melected vocation, 
whichjf I handlejedtb mpre_ good wilL t han g ood-reaaojis. 
bear with me^ since._the scholar is t n ^^ parHnrigH^fh^ 
followeth^the steps_^.hifi.jnaat£L. And yet I must say 

lo that, as I have just cause to make a pitiful defense of 
poor poetry, which from almost. 4he highest estimation of 
learning is fallen to be the laughing-stock of children,^ 
so have I need to bring some more available proofs, since 
the former is by no man barred of his deserved credit, 

15 the silly latter hath had even the names of philosophers 
used to the defacing of it, with great danger of civil war - 
among the Muses. 

And iirst, truly, to all them that, professing learning, 
inveigh against poetry, may justly be objected that they 

aogo very near to ungratefulness, to seek to deface that 
which, in the noblest nations and languages that are 
known, hath been the first light-giver to ignorance, and 
first nurse, whose milk by little and litde enabled them 
to feed afterwards of tougher knowledges. And will they 

=5 now play the hedgehog, that, being received into the 
den, drave out his host? Or rather the vipers, that with 
their birth kill their parents? Let learned Greece in any 
of her manifold sciences be able to show me one book 
before Musaeus, Homer, and Hesiod, all three nothing 

30 else but poets. Nay, let any history be brought that can 
say any writers were there before them, if they were not 
men of the same skill, as Orpheus, Linus, and some other 
are named, who, having been the first of that country 
that made pens deliverers of their knowledge to their 

35 posterity, may justly challenge to be called their fathers 


in learning. For not only in time they had this priority i 
— although in itself antiquity be venerable — but went 
before them as causes, to draw with their charming sweet- 
ness the wild untamed wits to an admiration of knowl- 
edge. So as Amphion was said to move stones with his s 
poetry to build Thebes, and Orpheus to be listened to by 
beasts, — indeed stony and beastly people. So among 
the Romans were Livius Andronicus and Ennius j so in 
the Italian language the first that made it aspire to be a 
treasure-house of science were the poets Dante, Boccace, " 
and Petrarch; so in our English were Gower and 
Chaucer, after whom, encouraged and delighted with 
their excellent foregoing, others have followed to beautify 
our mother-tongue, as well in the same kind as in other 
arts. 15 

This did so notably show itself, that the philosophers 
of Greece durst not a lo npr timp appear to the world hut 
under themask s of poets. So Thales, Empedocles, and 
Parmenides sang their natural philosophy in verses ; so 
did Pythagoras and Phocylides their rhoral counsels ; so 20 
did Tyrtaeus in war matters, and Solon in matters of 
policy; or rather they, being poets, did exercise their 
delightful vein in those points of highest knowledge' 
which before them lay hidden to the world. For that 
wise Solon was directly a poet it is manifest, having 25 
written in verse the notable fable of the Atlantic Island 
which was continued by Plato. And truly even Plato 
whosoever well considereth, shall find that in the body 
of his work though the inside and strength were phi- 
losophy, the skin as it were and beauty depended most 3° 
of poetry. For all standeth upon dialogues ; wherein he 
feigneth many honest burgesses of Athens to speak of 
such matters that, if they had been set on the rack, they 
would never have confessed them; besides his poetical 
describing the circumstances of their meetings, as the 3S 


well-ordering of a banquet, the delicacy of a walk, with 
interlacing mere tales, as Gyges' Ring and others, which 
who knoweth not to be flowers of poetry did never walk 
into Apollo's garden. 

5 And even historiographers, although their lips sound 
of things done, and verity be written in their foreheads, 
have been glad to borrow both fashion and perchance 
weight of the poets. So Herodotus entituled his history 
by the name of the nine Muses ; and both he and all 

lo the rest that followed him either stole or usurped of 
poetry their passionate describing of passions, the many 
particularities of battles which no man could affirm, or, 
if that be denied me, long orations put in the mouths 
of great kings and captains, which it is certain they 

15 never pronounced. 

So that truly neither philosopher nor historiographer 
could at the first have entered into the gates of popular 

i'\i judgments, if they had not taken a great passport of 

i 'poetry, which in all nations at this day, where learning 

ao flourisheth not, is plain to be seen ; in all which they 
have some feeling of poetry. In Turkey, besides their 
lawgiving divines they have no other writers but poets. 
In our neighbor country Ireland, where truly learning 
goetTi very bare, yet are their poets held in a devout 

85 reverence. Even among the most barbarous and simple 

"""^Indians, where no writing is, yet have they their poets, 

who make and sing songs (which they call areytos), both 

of their ancestors' deeds and praises of their gods, — a 

sufficient probability that, if ever learning come among 

3° them, it must be by having their "hard dull wits softened 
and sharpened with the sweet delights of poetry; for 
until they find a pleasure in the exercise of the mind, 
great promises of much knowledge will Uttle persuade 
them that know not the fruits of knowledge. In Wales, 

3S the true remnant of the ancient Britons, as there are 


good authorities to show the long time they had poets 
which they called bards, so through all the conquests 
of Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, some of whom 
did seek to ruin all memory of learning from among 
them, yet do their poets even to this day last ; so as it s 
is not more notable in soon beginning, than in long con- 

But since the authors of most of our sciences were 
the Romans, and before them the Greeks, let us a little 
stand upon their authorities, but even so far as to see lo, 
what names they have given unto this now scorned skill. 
Among the Romans a poet was called vates, which is as 
much as a diviner, foreseer, or prophet, as by his con- 
joined words, vaticinium and vaticinari, is manifest ; 
so heavenly a title did that excellent people bestow upon is 
this heart-ravishing knowledge. And so far were they 
carried into the admiration thereof, that they thought in 
the chanceable hitting upon any such verses great fore- 
tokens of their following fortunes were placed ; where- 
upon grew the. word of Sortes Virgiliana, when by 20 
sudden opening Virgil's book they lighted upon some 
verse of his making. Whereof the Histories of the Em- 
perors' Lives are foil : as of Albinus, the governor of our 
island, who in his childhood met with this verse, 

Arma amens capio, nee sat rationis in armis, °5 

and in his age jerformed it. Although it were a very 
vain and godless superstition, as also it was to think that 
spirits were commanded by such verses — whereupon 
this word charms, derived of carmina, cometh — so yet 
serveth it to show the great reverence ^^n<ip wits wprp 30 
held in, and altogether not without ground, since both 
the~orac Ies~5r Delnhns and SihvUa's n E Q a h£j::i e s-wete 
whSlly'delivered in verses ; for that same exquisite observ- 
ing" of numBe?~3Sdr nTSasilfe' in words, and that high- 


flying liberty of conceit proper to the poet, did seem 
to have some divine force in it. 

And may not I presume a little further to show the 
reasonableness of this word vates, and say that the holy 
5 David's ^^alms are a divine poeirj ? If I do, I shall not 
do it without the testimony of great learned men, both 
ancient and modem. Biit even the name of Psalms will 
speak for me, which, being interpreted, is nothing but 
Songsj__lhen, tha t it is fully written in metre, as all 

1° learned ^H ebricians agree, althou gh Jhe ruleg^^e not yet 
fully found ; lastly and principally, his handling his p roph- 
ecy, which is'merely p6e^aL__For what else is the awak- 
ing his musical instruments, the often and free changing 
of -persons, his notable prosopopoeias, when he maketh 

15 you, as it were, see God coming in His majesty, his tell- 
ing of the beasts' joyfulness and hills' leaping, but a 
heavenly poesy, wherein almost he showeth himself a 
passionate lover of that unspeakable and everlasting 
beauty to be seen by the eyes of the mind, only cleared 

2o by faith ? But truly now having named him, I fear I 
seem to profane that- holy name, applying it to poetry, 
which is among us thrown down to so ridiculous an esti- 
mation. But they that with quiet judgments will look 
a litde deeper into it, shall find the end and working of 

=5 it such as, being rightly applied, deserveth not to be 
scourged out of the church of God. 

But now let us see how the Greeks named it and how 
they deemed of it. The Greeks called him ttoi-ijt'^v, 
which name hath, as the most excellent, gone through 

30 other languages. It cometh of this word ttouiv, which 
is " to make " ; wherein I know not whether by luck or 
wisdom we Englishmen have met with the Greeks in 
calling him a maker. Which name how high and incom- 
parable a tide it is, I had rather were known by mark- 

3s ing the scope of other sciences than by any partial 


allegation, 'There is no art delivered unto mankind that 
hath not the works of nature for his principal object,' 
without which they could not consist, and on which they 
so depend as they become actors and players, as it were, 
of what nature will have set forth. So doth the astron- 5 
omer look upon the stars, and, by that he seeth, set down 
what order nature hath taken therein. So do the geome- 
trician and arithmetician in their divers sorts of quantities. 
So doth the musician in times tell you which by nature 
agree, which not. The natural philosopher thereon hath 10 
his name, and the moral philosopher ^tandeth upon the 
natural virtues, vices, and passions of man ; and " follow 
nature,," saith he, "therein, and thou shalt not err." 
The lawyer saith what men have determined, the his- 
torian what men have done. The grammarian speaketh is 
only of the rules of speech, and the rhetorician and logi- 
cian, considering what in nature will soonest prove and 
persuade, thereon give artificial rules, which still are com- 
passed within the circle of a question, according to the 
proposed matter. The physician weigheth the nature of 20 
man's body, and the nature of things helpful or hurt- 
ful unto it. And the metaphysic, though it be in the 
second and abstract notions, and therefore be counted 
supernatural, yet doth he, indeed, build upon the depth 
of nature. =5 

4^^ Only the poet, disdaining to be ti e d to. j.n3LiH£k„.aah.- 
jectio n, liftsd-Jl.P-J«itb.. the vigo r of his own_ invention, 
doth grow, in effect, into another nature, in making 

/ tE^^either^et ter than nature bringethto rSL^JuUtP 
anewj torms such 'as(never were m natu r^ ^LStheJ^aB^s, 30 
deim«gSds;'T5?clSprchimeras,"Tune^^ so 

arjfi.t^Jh1iandr^rn hand with "nature, not j^ad osed 
within the narrow warrant of Heir giftsT^itJreelj^raniJng 
witiSin ■lhF':OTdtfK;^bTTiis^ovrarm^ "feature never^j^et 
forth" the eatth'ih¥6'ncfi''!apesSy as divers poets have as 


done; neithejL.'BdlJi -Dleasant rivers, fruitful trees, sw eet- 
smellirig flowers, nor whatsoever else may make tlie too- 
much-loved ^ar'th more ' lovely ; h er-WTJrld~TS~braie nnBe" 
poets only deliver a golden.^ 
5 . "'But let "Hiose'Tlimgs alone, and go to man — for whom 
as the other things are, so it seemeth in him her utter- 
most cunning is employed — and know whether she have 
brought forth so true a lover as Theagenes ; so constant 
a friend as Pylades ; so valiant a man as Orlando ; so 
lo right a prince as Xenophon's Cyrus ; so excellent a 
man every way as Virgil's ^neas ? Neither let this he 
je stingly conceived, because the works of the one be 

psspnrial, thp p ther in im itatiO" "^ fjrtmn • for iSy" 

u nderstanding knoweth th.e,.skill of each a r tificer standet h 

15 in that idea, or fore-conceit of the work , and not in thp_ 

wgrk j*s«lf . _And that tjje pfiet hath that id^a is mani-, 

fest, by deli verinp; them forth- in -S UcB excellency as he 

hatTxiSaaaguiM-ttoBw Which delivering forth, also, is 

not^ whol ly ima ginative, as we are wont to say by them 

2o that build castles in the airj but so far stostantjajly it 

workgt h, hot only to make a Cyrus, which had been but 

a particular excellency, as nature might have done, but 

to^ bestQj aLa-Qyjcus u pon the world to make many Cyruses. 

- if they will learn aright_wiiy and how, that mak^ y mfide 

25 hinij^ Neither let it be deemed too saucy a comparison 

to balance th e highest point of man's wit with, the- ef&cacy 

of nature ; but rather give right honor to the Heavenly 

Maker of that maker, who, having made man to His own 

likeness, set him beyond and over all the works of that 

30 second nature. Which in nothing he showeth^gfinuch as 

in poetry, when with the force of. ■a -di<4R& -breath- he 

bnngeth thmgs forth far surpasamgJb£]u3ainss,jwTh .no 

^SST^Sument to the_ incfedulou^ ofJhai,,.£lStjK;cursed 

^"L^f A'^^"^' ::r since our erected witlnaketh us know ^aT" 

35 perfection is, and yet our infected wiU keepeth us /xeirL^ 


reaching unto it. But these arguments will by few be 
understdodT'anS' by fewer granted ; thus much I hope 
will be given roe, that the Greeks with some probability 
of reason gave him the name above all names of learn- 
ing. 5 

Now let us go to a more ordinary opening of him, 
that the truth may be the more palpable ; and so, I hope, 
though we get not so unmatched a praise as the ety- 
mology of his names will grant, yet his very description, 
which no man will deny, shaH not justly be barred from lo 
a' principal commendation. 
^ P oesy, therefore, is an art of ^ imitation, for so Aris- 
toBe termeth it in Jiis...word ^Lwdti^, that is -to sav.-a 
representi ng, count er feiting, or figuring forth ^ to speak 
metaphorically, a speaking picture , with t h i s en^l.^tn 15 
teach^and delight. 

■"WTRis Kavebeeri three general kinds. The chief, both 
in antiquity and excellency, werethgy that, did imi.ta.t.e ^ 
the inr.nnreiyah1e.,fi,^cellencies of (kid- Such were David 
in his Kalms ; Solomon in his Song of Songs, in his 20 
Ecclesiastes and Proverbs ; Moses and Deborah in their 
Hymns ; and the writer of Job ; which, beside other, the 
learned Emanuel Tremellius and Franciscus Junius do 
entitle the poetical part of the Scripture. Against these 
none will speak that hath the Holy Ghost in due holy 25 
reverence. In this kind, though in a full wrong divinity, j 
were Orpheus, Amphion, Homer in his Hymns, and , 
many other, both Greeks and Romans. And this poesy 
must be used by whosoever will follow St. James' coun- 
sel in singing psalms when they are merry ; and I know 30 
is used with the fruit of comfort by some, when, in sorrow- 
ful pangs of their death-bringing sins, they find the con- 
solation of the never-leaving goodness. 

The second kind is of them that deal with matter s ^ 
nhiTosmiEicai:'''eit'her moral, as Tyfteeus, Ph ocylides, and 35 




Cato ; or riatiiral__qg T"^'" ''*'''"'' ""^ V ' rgjl's rifinrgi c s ; or 
"astronomical, as Ma nilius and Pontaaus ; or historical, as 
Lucan ;- whicli who mislike, the fault is in their judg- 
ment quite out of taste, and not in the sweet food of 
sweetly uttered knowledge. 

But because t his sec ond sort is wrappfid- within the 
fold of the proposed subject, and takes not the free, 
course _ of his own invention, whether they properly 
be poets or no let grammarians dispute, and go to the 
ir<Li ndeed righL-T"'^'''? , nf whom ch'^fl y <-his qui'stifti) 
ariseth^ "BetvyixFwho m and these second is such a kind 
of di fference as betwixt the meaner__ §fliL-jELL.p aJnt-prg 
w!io counterfeit only such faces as ai£_setJiefarje.them, 
and, the mnrp ,eYr.(i]]p.Trt^^w ho havi ng, no law but wit. 

i bestow that-iH -Colors upon you which is fittest- for the 
ejjejB,.S£e, — as the constant though lamenting look oT" 
Lucretia, when she punished in herself another's fault; 
wherein he painteth not Lucretia, whom he never saw, 
but painteth the outward beauty of such a virtue. Fgr 

> th^e third be they which_ most properlydo imitate to 
tgash—and- delight ; and to^imitate^berrpw n othing of 
what is, hath been, or shal l bej ^ b'it rff^p'^ i ""^Y r^ned 
mtKieaxaa LiIiiicretion, mto th e ^divine consideratipn qf 
w hat may b e and should be. These be they that, as 

i the first and most noble sort may justly be termed 
vates, so these are waited on in the exeellentest lan- 
guages and best understandings with the foredescribed 
name of poets. For these, indeed, do merely make to 
imitate, and imitate both to delight and teach, and delight 

1 to move men to take that goodness in hand, which with- 
out, delight they would fly as from a stranger; and teach 
to make them know. that goodness whereunto they are 

jnoved : — which being the noblest scope to which evei 
any learning was directed, yet; want there not idle tongues 
to bait at them. 


These be subdivided into sundry more special denomi- 
nations. The most notable be the heroic, lyric, tragic/ >/ 
comic, satiric, iambic, elegiac, pastoral, and certain 
others, some \ of these being termed according to the 
matter they deal with, some by the sort of verse they s 
liked best to write in, — for indeed the greatest part of 
poets have apparelled their poetical inventions in that 
numberous kind of writing which is called verse. Indeed 
but apparelled, verse being but an ornament and n n 
ca use ^oTTOetiy , since tKere have beeii'many most excel- lo 

^F'poets that never versified, and now swarm many 
versifiers that need never answer to the name of poets. 

for Xenophon, who did imitate so excellently as to give - ' 
us effigiem Justi imperii— ^^e portraiture of a just empire 
under the name of Cyrus'' (as Cicero saith of him) — made is 
therein an absolute her oical |>Qem ; so did Heliodorus in 
his sugared invention of that picture of love in Theagenes 
and Chariclea ; and yet both these wrote in prose. W hich 

I speak tn sh^yfthut it ig nn^ ""'i ng_and- versinpr tha t 

maketh a poet-^ — nQ..jiiore than a long ^own maketh an 20 
advocate.j yho. though he pleaded in armor, should be 
an advocate and no soldier — ^ut it is that fei ^ing 
notable images o f virtues, vices, or what else. with ^t |iat \ 
(f^gITBf gP^eac5mg|*wtiich must be the right describihg 
note'to K rinw^,jQfi t ,J;j y^.^ Although the senate* of 35 

poets hath chosen verse as their fittest raiment, mean- 
ing, as in matter they passed all in all, so in manner to 
go beyond them ; not speaking, table-talk fashion, or like 
men in a dream, words as they chanceably fall from the 
mouth, but peizing each syllable of each word by just 30 
proportion,' according to the dignity of the subject, TY- 

Now therefore it shall not be amiss, first to weigh 
this latter sort of poetry by hi s works^ and then by his 
nartsf; and if in neither of these anatomies he be con- 
demnable, I hope we shall obtain a more favorable sen- as 


tence. This purifying of wit, this enrichin&rjfjnemory, 
'enabling^of^judgment, and enlarging of conceit, which 
commonly we call learning, under what name soever it 
come forth or to what immediate ei«3 soever it be 
•^directed, thfi„fijjal,£ to. lead and draw us to as high 
a perfectio n^ as our degenerate souls, made worse by 
their clay lodgings, can b e capable of. This, according 
to the inclination of man, bred many-formed impres- 
sions. For some that thought this felicity principally to 

lo be gotten by knowledge, and no knowledge to b^^ 
high or heavenly as acquaintance with the stars, Jlre 
themselves to astronomy ; others, persuading themselves 

'--Jp-^e demi-gods if they knew the causes of things, 
became natural and supernatural philosophers. Some 

15 an admirable delight drew to music, and some the 
certainty of demonstration to the matjiematics ; but all, 
one and other, having this scope : —I to know, and by 
knowledge to lift up the mind from the dungeon of the 
body to the enjoying his own divine essence. J But when 

2o-by the balance of experience it was found that the 

' astronomer, looking to the stars, might fall into a ditch, 
that the inquiring philosopher might be blind in himself, 
and the mathematician might draw forth a straight line 

V with a crooked heart ; then lo ! did proof, the overruler 

25 of opinions, make manifest, that all these are but serv- 
ing sciences, which, as they have each a private end in 
themselves, so yet are they all directed to the highest end 
of the mistress-knowledge, by the Greeks called opyvrtK- 
TovLKT^, which stands, as I think, in the knowledge of a 
.^soman's self, in the ethic and politic consideration, with 
the end of well-doin g, and not of well-knowing only : — 
even as the saddler's next end is to make a good saddle, 
but his further end to serve a nobler faculty, which is 
horsemanship ; so the horseman's to soldiery ; and the 

3s soldier not only to have the skill, but to perform the 


practice of a soldier. So that t he ending end of a ll 
e arthly learning being virtuous action, t hose skills that" 
most serve to bring forth that have a most just title to 
be princes over all the rest ; wherein, if we can show, 
the poet is worthy to have it before any other competitbrs. 5 
Among whom as principal challengers step forth the 
- moral philos ophers ; whom, me thinketh, I see coming 
toward me with a sullen gravity, as though they could not 
abide vice by daylight; rudely clothed, for to witness 
^utwardly their contempt of outward things ; with books lo 
^^their hands against glory, whereto they set their 
names ; sophistically speaking against subtility ; and angry 
with any man in whom they see the foul fault of anger.A' 
These men, casting -largess as they go of definitions^ 
divisions, and distinctions, with a scornful interrogative is 
do soberly ask whether it be possible to find any 
path so ready to lead a man to virtue, as that which 
teacheth what virtue is, and teacheth it not only by 
delivering forth his very being, his causes and effects, 
but also by making known his enemy, vice, which must 2a 
be destroyed, and his cumbersome servant, passion, 
which must be ipastered ; by showing the generalities 
that contain it, and the specialities that are derived from 
it ; lastly, by plain setting down how it extendeth itself out 
of the limits of a man's own little world, to the govern- 25 
ment of families, and maintaining of public societies ? 

The historian scarcely giveth leisure to the moralist to 
say so much, but that he, loaden with old mouse-eaten 
records, authorizing himself for the most part upon 
other histories, whose greatest authorities are built upon 30 
the notable foundation of hearsay ; having much ado to 
accord differing writers, and to pick truth out of partial- 
ity; better acquainted with a thousand years ago than 
with the present age, and yet better knowing how this 
world goeth than how his own wit runneth ; curious for 3S 


antiquities and' inquisitive of novelties, a wonder to young 
folks and a tyrant in table-talk ; denieth, in. a great chafe, 
that any man for teaching of virtue and virtuous actions 
is comparable to him. " I am testis temporum, lux veri- 
5 talis, vita memorice, magistra vita, nuntia vetustatis. 
The philosopher," saith he, " teacheth a disputative 
virtue, but I do an active. His virtue is excellent in the 
dangerless Academy of Plato, but mine showeth forth 
her honorable face in the battles of Marathon, Pharsalia, 

lo Poitiers, and Agincourt. He teacheth virtue by cer^^ . 
abstract considerations, but I only bid you follow WP 
footing of them that have gone before you. Old-aged 
experience goeth beyond the fine-witted philosopher; 
but I give the experience of many ages. Lastly, if he 

IS make the song-book, I put the learner's hand to the 
lute ; and if he be the guide, I am the light." Then 
would he allege you innumerable examples, confirming 
story by story, how much the wisest senators and 
princes have been directed by the credit of history, as 

20 Brutus, AlphonsJis of Aragon — and who not, if need be ? 
At length the long line of their disputation maketh a 

I point in this, — .that the one giveth the precept, and the 

,' other the example. 

Now whom shall we find, since the question standeth 
^ 25 for the highest form in the school of learning, to be 
moderator? Truly, as me seemeth, the poet; and if 
not a moderator, even the man that ought to carry the 
title from them both, "and much more from all other 
serving sciences. (Therefore compare we the poet with 

30 the historian and with the moral philosopher ; and if he 

go beyond them both, no other human skill can match 

\i him. \ For as for the djyine. with all reverence it is ever 

to be excepted, not only for having his scope as far 

beyond any of these as eternity exceedeth a moment, 

35 but even for passing each of these in themselves. And 


for the lavvyer, though Jus be the daughter of Justice, I 
and Justice the chief of virtues, yet because he seeketh to 
make men good xz&i&x formidine pxnce than virtutis 
amore ; or, to say righter, doth not endeavor to make 
men good, but that their evil hurt not others ; having no ^ 
care, so' he be a good citizen, how bad a man he be ,^ 
therefore, as our wickedness maketh him necessary, and 
necessity maketh him honorable, so is he not in the 
deepest truth to stand in rank with these, who all 
endeavor to take naughtiness away, and plant goodness lo 
even in the secretest cabinet of our souls. And these 
four are all that any way deal in that consideration of 
men's manners, which being the supreme knowledge, 
they that best breed it deserve the best commendation. 

The philosopher therefore and the historian are they is 
which would win the goal, the one by precept, the other 
by example ; but both not having both, do both hajt,_. 
For the philosopher, setting down with thorny argu- 
ments the bare rule, is so hard of utterance and so ■ 
mis ty to be conceived, that one that hath no other guide 20 
but Eim shall wade in him till he be old, before he 
shall find gufficient cause to be honest. For his knowl- 
edge_standeth so upon the abstract and general that 
happy is that man who may understand him, and more 
happy that can apply what he doth understand. Qa.the 25 
other side, the historian, wanting th£ precegt^Js so tied, 
not to wha t _shflald. be..,toi.t.. to _El)aLis,.to the particular ji 
truth of things and not to the general reason of things, 
that his example draweth no necessary consequence, and . 
therefore a less fruitful doctrine. >. 3° 

/ Now doth the peerless poet perform both j for what- r' 
soe ver the philosopher saith should be dofl £,-iie- giveth a 
perfect_2ieture_Qlitin_JQJtne_43ne-by-whom he presup- 
posejh it was do ne, so as_ hg_cpupleth the general notion 
with the particular example. A perfect picture, I say ; 3s 


for h e yieldeth toj be-powers - of ,the mind, a n imagg-Xii— 
that whereof the philos qjjher^^bsstowe.tb, but j^ wordish 
descriptiorC wlnch^otJi. neither stEike,.-pierce,nOT possess 
the sight ij£ the._soul_so much ,as. that -otllSiLdoth. For 
5 as, in outward things, to a man that had never seen an 
elephant or a rhinoceros, who should tell him most 
exquisitely all their shapes, color, bigness, and particular 
marks; or of a gorgeous palace, an architector, with 
declaring the full beauties, might well make the hearer 
lo able to repeat, as it were by rote, all he had heard, yet 
should never satisfy his inward conceit with being wit- 
ness to itself of a true lively knowledge ; but the same 
man, as soon as he might see those beasts well painted, 
or that house well in model, should straightways grow, 
IS without need of any description, to a judicial compre- 
hending of them : so no doubt t he philosopher, with 
his learned definitions, be it of virtues or vices, matters 
of publicTpoRcy or private •gov«mTOentjTEjIenisiieth the 
memory with many infallible grounds of wisdom, ffihich 
20 nolwithstaijling lw^3ai-£~before "_the imaginative^ and 
judging power, if they be not illuminated or figured forth 

by the speaking- picture of poe^T 

Tully taketh much pains, and many times not without 
poetical helps, to make us know the force love of our 
as country hath in us. Let us but hear old Anchises speak- 
ing in the midst of Troy's flames, or see Ulysses, in the 
fulness of all Calypso's delights, bewail his absence from 
barren and beggarly Ithaca. Anger, the Stoics said, was 
a short madness. Let but Sophocles bring you Ajax on a 
30 stage, killing and whipping sheep and oxen, thinking them 
the army of Greeks, with their chieftains Agamemnon 
and Menelaus, and tell me if you have not a more 
familiar insight into anger, than finding in the schoolmen 
his genus and difference. See whether wisdom and 
35 temperance in Ulysses and Diomedes, valor in Achilles, 


friendship in Nisus and Euryalus, even to an ignorant 
man carry not an apparent shining. And, contrarily, the 
remorse of conscience in GJdipus ; the soon-repenting 
pride of Agamemnon ; the self-devouring cruelty in his 
father Atreus ; the violence of ambition in the two 5 
Theban brothers ; the sour sweetness of revenge in 
Medea ; and, to fall lower, the Terentian Gnatho and 
our Chaucer's Pandar so expressed that we now use 
their names to signify their trades ; and finally, all virtues, 
vices, and passions so in their own natural states laid to m 
the view, that we seem not to hear of them, but clearly 
to see through them. 

But even in the most excellent determination of good- 
ness, what philosopher's cou nsel can so readily direct a 
prince, as the feig^ned Cyrus in Xenophon? Or 3 virtnnns is 
than in all fortunes, as ^neas in Virgil ? Or i^, whole. 
coriiniiSmvealth, as the way of Sir Thomas Miiir' t Tlt n 
pi a? " l say the way, because where Sir Thomas More'" 
erred, it was the fault of the man, and not of the poet ; 
for that way of patterning a commonwealth was most m 
absolute, though he, perchance, hath not so absolutely 
performed it. For the question is, whether the feigned 
image of poesy, or the regular instruction of philosophy, 
hath the more force in teaching. Wherein if the phi- 
losophers have more rightly showed themselves philoso- =5 
phers than the poets have attained to the high top of 
their profession, — as in truth, 

Mediocribus esse poetis 
Non Dii, non homines, non concessere columnse, — 

it is, I say again, not the fault of the art, but that by few 3° 
meji that art can be accomplished. 

Certainly, even our Saviour Christ could as well have 
given the moral commonplaces of unchar-itableness and 
humbleness as the divine narration of Dives and Laz- 


arus; or of disobedience and mercy, as that heavenly 
discourse of the lost child and the gracious father ; but 
that his through-searching wisdom knew the estate of 
Dives burning in hell, and of Lazarus in Abraham's 
5 bosom, would more constantly, as it were, inhabit both 
the memory and judgment. Truly, for myself, me seems 
I see before mine eyes the lost child's disdainful prodi- 
gality, turned to envy a swine's dinner; which by the 
learned divines are thought not historical acts, but in- 

lo stmcting parables. 

>. For conc lusion, I say the p hilosopher teacheth. but he 

yf teacnetn obscurely, so as the learned only can under- 

s tancl him ; that is to say, he teacheth them tl^nt nr^ 

already taught. But thp p"Pt_k_ tlip fc^^nrl fn rthp \i-n- 

15 derest stomactisj 1^e"' )^ p£ trji^irfde'^ tlie" right p opular 
ptftlg5 ^ih"er . Whereof ^sop's tales give good proof; 
whose pretty auegories, stealing under the formal tales 
of beasts, make many, more beastly than beasts, begin 
to hear the sound of virtue from those dumb speakers. 

20 But now may it be alleged that if this imagining of 
matters be so fit for the imagination, then must the his- 
torian needs surpass, who bringeth you images of true 
matters, such as indeed were done, and not such as 
fantastically or falsely may be suggested to have been 

25 done. Truly, Aristotle himself, in his Discourse of Poesy, 

plainly determineth this question, saying that poetry is 

i^iAoo-o^cuTEjooi/ and o-7ro«8atoTepov, that is to say, it is mpre 

philosophical and more studiously serious than histor y. 

1 rtirreasonl£]^5ecause^po esy deale th with Ka BoKm, th at^^ 

30 to say withj he u niversal ^onsiderad on,"aircO he histo v 
with Koff €KaaTov, the particular. " Now," saith he, "the 
universal" wmgRT whar!rfir-T3ri)e said or done, either 
in likeHhood or necessity — which the poesy considereth 
in his imposed names ; and the particular only marketh 

35 whether Alcibiades did, or suffered, this or that : " thus 


far Aristotle. Which reason of his, as all his, is most 
full of reason. - 

For, indeed, if the question were whether it were better 
to have a particular act truly or falsely set down, there 
is no doubt which is to be chosen, no more than whether s 
you had rather have Vespasian's picture right as he was, 
or, at the painter's pleasure, nothing resembling. But 
if the question be for your own use and learning, whether ^ 
it be better to have it set down as it should be or as it 
was, then certainly is more doctrinable the feigned Cyrus lo 
in Xenophon than the true Cyrus in Justin ; and the 
feigned ^neas in Virgil than the right ^neas in Dares 
Phrygius ; as to a lady that desired to fashion her counte- 
nance to the best grace, a painter should more benefit 
her to portrait a most sweet face, writing Canidia upon 1.5 
it, than to paint Canidia as she was, who, Horace swear- 
eth, was foul and ill-favored. 

If the poet do his part aright, he will show you in "" 
Tantalus, Atreus, and such like, nothing that is not to \ 

be shunned ; in Cyrus, ^neas, Ulysses, each thing to be 2a ' 
followed. Where the historian, bound to tell things 1 

as things were, cannot be liberal — without he will be ; 

poetical — of a perfect pattern ; but, as in Alexander, or / 
Scipio himself, show doings, some to be liked, some to / 
be misliked ; and then how will you discern what \.oj{ 
follow but by your own discretion, which you had with- 
out reading Quintus Curtius? And whereas a man may 
say, though in universal consideration of doctrine the poet 
prevaileth, yet that the history, in his saying such a thing 
was done, doth warrant a man more in that he shall 30 
follow, — the answer is manifest: that if he stand upon 
that was, as if he should argue, because it rained yester- 
day therefore it should rain to-day, then indeed it hath 
some advantage to a gross conceit. But if he know 
an example only informs a conjectured likelihood, and as 


so go by reason, the poet doth so far exceed him as he 
is to frame his example to that which is most reasonable, 
be it in warlike, politic, or private matters ; where the 
historian in his bare was hath many times that which we 
5 call fortune to overrule the best wisdom. Many times 
he must tell events whereof he can yield no cause ; or 
if he do, it must be poetically. 
, , For, that a feigned example hath as much force to 
teach as a true example — for as for to move, it is clear, 

lo since the feigned may be tuned to the highest key of 
passion — let us take one example wherein a poet and a 
historian do concur. Herodotus and Justin do both tes- 
tify that Zopyrus, king Darius' faithful servant, seeing 
his master long resisted by the rebellious Babylonians, 

15 feigned himself in extreme disgrace of his king ; for 
verifying of which he caused his own nose and ears to 
be cut off, and so flying to the Babylonians, was received, 
and for his known valor so fjr credited, that he did 
find means to deliver them over to Darius. Much-like 

20 matter doth Livy record of Tarquinius and his son. 
Xenophon excellently feigneth such another stratagem, 
performed by Abradatas in Cyrus' behalf. Now would I 
fain know, if occasion be presented unto you to serve 
your prince by such an honest dissimulation, why do you 

25 not as well learn it of Xenophon's fiction as of the 
o.ther's verity? and, truly, so much the better, as you 
shall save your nose by the bargain ; for Abradatas did 
not counterfeit so far. 

So, then, the best of the historian is subject to the 

30 poet ; for whatsoever action or faction, whatsoever counsel, 
policy, or war-stratagem th£>iistnnari^ is finiin H tn ^pcite, 
that may the ^oet, if he list, with his jmitation niake his 
ownj ^beautifying it 'botTi for further teaching and more 
delighting, as it pleaseth him ; having all, from Dante's 

35 Heaven tc his Hell, under the authority of his pen. 


Which if I be asked what poets have done? so as I 
might well name some, yet say I, and say again, I speak 
of the art, and not of the artificer. 

Now, to that which commonly is attributed to the 
praise of history, in respect of the notable learning 5 
is gotten by marking the success, as though therein 
a man should see virtue exalted and vice punished, — 
truly that commendation is peculiar to poetry and far 
off from history. For, indeed, poetry ever setteth virtue 
so out in her best colors, making Fortune her well-waiting 10 
handmaid, that one must needs be enamored of her. 
Well may you see Ulysses in a storm, and in other hard 
plights ; but they are but exercises of patience and 
magnanimity, to make them shine the more in the near 
following prosperity. And, of the contrary part, if evil 15 
men come to the stage, they ever go out — as the tragedy 
writer answered to one that misHked the show of such 
persons — so manacled as they little animate folks to 
follow them. But the historian, being captived to the truth 
of a foolish world, is many times a terror from well-doing, =c 
and an encouragement to unbridled wickedness. For 
see we not valiant Miltiades rot in his fetters ? The just 
Phocion and the accompUshed Socrates put to death 
like traitors ? The cruel Severus live prosperously? The 
excellent Severus miserably murdered ? Sylla and Marius 25 
dying in their beds? Pompey and Cicero slain then, 
when they would have thought exile a happiness ? See 
we not virtuous Cato driven to kill himself, and rebel 
Caesar so advanced that his name yet, after sixteen hun- 
dred years, lasteth in -the highest honor? And mark but 30 
even Caesar's own words of the forenamed Sylla — who 
in that only did honestly, to put down his dishonest 
tyranny — liter as nescivit : as if want of learning caused 
him to do well. He meant it not by poetry, which, not 
content with earthly plagues, deviseth new punishments 35 


in hell for tyrants ; nor yet by philosophy, which teach- 
eth occidendos esse ; but, no doubt, by skill in hist6ry, 
for that indeed can afford you Cypselus, Periander, 
Phalaris, Dionysius, and I know not how many more of 
3 the same kennel, that speed well enough in their abomi- 
nable injustice or usurpation. 

I conclude, therefore, that he excelleth history, not 
0( only in furnishing the mind with knowledge, but in set- 
ting it forward to that which deserveth to be called and 

lo accounted good ; which settings forward, and moving to 
well-doing, indeed setteth the laurel crown upon the 
poet as victorious, not only of the historian, but over 
the philosopher, "howsoever in teaching it may be ques- 
tionable. For suppose it be granted — that which I sup- 

15 pose with great reason may be denied — that the philos- 
opher, in respect of his methodical proceeding, teach 
more perfectly than the poet, yet do I think that no 
man is so much (/>tXo<^tXoo-o</)os as to compare the philos- 
opher in moving with the poet. And that moving is of a 

20 higher degree than teaching, it may by this appear, that 
it is well nigh both the cause and the effect of teaching ; 
for who will be taught, if he be not moved with desire to 
be taught ? And what so much good doth that teaching 
bring forth — I speak still of moral doctrine — as that 

25 it moveth one to do that which it doth teach ? For, as 
Aristotle saith, it is not yj/wo-is but TrpS^ts must be the 
fruit ; and how irpa^ts cannot be, without being moved to 
practise, it is no hard matter to consider. The philoso- 
pher showeth you the way, he informeth you of the par- 

30 ticularities, as well of the tediousness of the way, as of 
the pleasant lodging you shall have when your journey is 
ended, as of the many by-turnings that may divert you 
from your way ; but this is to no man but to him that 
will read him, and read him with attentive, studious Tpa.m-y ff 

35 fulness ; which constant desire whosoever hath in him, 


hath already passed half the hardness of the way, and^ 
therefore is beholding to the philosopher but for the other 
half. Nay, truly, learned men have learnedly thought, 
that where once reason hath so much overmastered pas- 
sion as that the mind hath a free desire to do well, the s 
inward light each mind hath in itself is as good as a 
philosopher's book ; since in nature we know it is well 
to do well, and what is well and what is evil, although not 
in the words of art which philosophers bestow upon us ; 
for out of natural conceit the philosophers drew it. But lo 
to be moved to do that which we know, or to be moved 
with desire to know, hoc opus, hie labor est. 

Now therein of all sciences — I speak still of human, 
and according to the human conceit — is our poet the 
monarch. For he doth not on,ly show the way, but giv- is 
eth so sweet a prospect into the way as will entice any 
man to enter into it. Nay, he doth, as if your journey^ 
should lie through a fair vineyard, at the very first give 
you a cluster of grapes, that full of that taste you may 
long to pass further. He beginneth not with obscure 20 
definitions, which must blur the margent with interpreta- 
tions, and load the memory with doubtfulness. But, he\ 
cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, 
either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well- 
enchanting skill of music ; and with a tale, forsooth, he 23 
cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children 
from play, and old men from the chimney-corner, and, 
pretending no more, doth intend the winning of the mind 
from wickedness to virtue ; even as the child is often 
brought to take most wholesome things, by hiding them 30 
in such other as have a pleasant taste, — which, if one 
should begin to tell them the na.ture of the aloes or 
rhubarb they should receive, would sooner take their 
physic at their ears than at their mouth. So is it in men, 
most of which are childish in the best things, till they 35 


be cradled in their graves, — glad they will be to hear 
the tales of Hercules, Achilles, Cyrus, ^neas; and, hear- 
ing them, must needs hear the right description of 
wisdom, valor, and justice ; which, if they had been 
5 barely, that is to say philosophically, set out, they would 
swear they be brought to school again. 

That imitation whereof poetry is, hath the most con- 
veniency to nature of all other ; insomuch that, as Aristotle 
saith, those things which in themselves are horrible, as 

lo cruel battles, unnatural monsters, are made in poetical 
imitation delightful. Truly, I have known men, that even 
with reading Amadis de- Gaule, which, God knoweth, 
wanteth much of a perfect poesy, have found their hearts 
moved to the exercise of courtesy, liberality, and espe- 

15 cially courage. Who readeth ^neas carrying old An- 
chises on his back, that wisheth not it were his fortune 
to perform so excellent an act? Whom do not those 
words of Turnus move, the tale of Turnus having planted 
his image in the imagination ? 

20 Fugientem hsec terra videbit? 

Usque adeone mori miserum est? 

/ ' ^here the philos ophers, as they scorn to delip ;ht^ sp mngt 

\ they be content little to move — saving wrangling whether 
virtue be the chief or the only good, whether the con- 

25 templative or the active life do excel — which Plato 
and Boethius well knew, and therefore made Mistress 
Philosophy very often borrow the masking raiment of 
Poesy. For even those hard-hearted evil men who 
think virtue a school-name, and know no other good 

30 but indiilgere genio, and therefore despise the austere 

admonitions of the philosopher, and feel not the inward 

reason they stand upon, yet will be content to be de- 

^ f lighted, which is all the good-fellow poet seemeth to 

\^romise; and so steal to see the form of goodness — 


which seen, they cannot but love — ere themselves be 
aware, as if they took a medicine of cherries. 

Infinite proofs of the strange effects of this poetical 
invention might be alleged ; only two shall serve, which 
are so often remembered as I think all men know them, s 
The one of Menenius Agrippa, who, when the whole 
people of Rome had resolutely divided themselves from 
the senate, with apparent show of utter ruin, though he 
were, for that time, an excellent orator, came not among 
them upon trust either of figurative speeches or cunning lo 
insinuations, and much less with far-fet maxims of philos-"^ 
ophy, which, especially if they were Platonic, they must 
have learned geometry before they could well have con; 
ceived ; but, forsooth, he behaves himself like a homely 
and famiUar poet. He telleth them a tale, that there is 
was a time when all the parts of the body made a 
mutinous conspiracy against the belly, which they thought 
devoured the fruits of each other's laborj-— ''^^T'''''''^- 

cluc"- ' -^■- '^■^■l..kfc Tifl.w.tiW'"''*'-''* ^pon^pr starve. 

In the end, to be short — for the tale is notorious, and =0 
as notorious that it was a tale — with punishing the belly 
they plagued themselves. This, applied by him, wrought 
such effect in the people, as I never read that ever words 
brought forth but then so sudden and so good an altera- 
tion ; for upon reasonable conditions a perfect reconcile- ^s 
ment ensued. 

The other is of Nathan the prophet, who, when the 
holy David had so far forsaken God as to confirm adul- 
tery with murder, when he was to do the tenderest office 
of a friend, in laying his own shame before his eyes, — 3° 
sent by God to call again so chosen a servant, how doth 
he it but by telling of a man whose beloved lamb was 
ungratefully taken from his bosom? The application 
most divinely true, but the discourse itself feigned ; which 
made David (I speak of the second and instrumental 35 


cause) as in a glass to see his own filthiness, as that 
heavenly Psalm of Mercy well testifieth. 

By these, therefore, examples and reasons, I think it 
may be manifest that the poet, with that same hand of 

5 delight, doth draw the mind more effectually than any 

J other art doth. And so a conclusion not unfitly ensueth : 

that as virtue is the most excellent resting-place for all 

worldly learning to make his end of, so poetry, being the 

most familiar to teach it, and most princely to move 

lo towards it, in the most excellent work is the most excel- 
lent workman. 

But I am content not only to decipher him by his 
works — although works in commendation or dispraise 
must ever hold a high authority — but more narrowly will 

15 examine his parts ; so that, as in a man, though all 
together may carry a presence full of majesty and beauty, 
perchance in some one defectious piece we may find 
~ aT)leriTi=b,. '^f.aii ^ ^ j«__ 

Now in his partspri'fM.^ , "'• "=,7 js»*9». , -as jWTlIs c 'tG term 

20 them, it is to be noted that som e poesies have coupled 
toget her two or thrpp kinH<;^ — as Iragical and 
wKeireupon is risen the tr agi-comical l some, in the like 
maiineiTlraTe-inttrgTea prose and verse, as Sannazzaro and 
Boethius ; some have mingled matters heroical and pas- 

25 toral ; but that cometh all to one in this question, for, 
if severed they be good, the conjunction cannot be hurt- 
ful. Therefore, perchance forgetting some, and leaving 
some as needless to be remembered, it shall not be 
amiss in a word to cite the special kinds, to see what 

30 faults may be found in the right use of them. 

Is it then the pastoral poem which is misliked? — for 
perchance where the hedge is lowest they will soonest 
leap over. Is the poor pipe disdained, which some- 
times out of Meliboeus' mouth can show the misery of 

35 people under hard lords and ravening soldiers, and 


again, by Tityrus, what blessedness is derived to them 
that lie lowest from the goodness of them that sit highest ? 
sometimes, under the pretty tales of wolves and sheep, 
can include the whole considerations "of wrong-doing and 
patience ; sometimes show that contention for trifles can s 
get but a trifling victory ; where perchance a man may 
see that even Alexander and Darius, when they straveV" 
who should be cock of this world's dunghill, the benefit^ 
they got was that the after-livers may say : 

Haac memini et victum frustra contendere Thyrsim ; to 

Ex illo Corydon, Corydon est tempore nobis. 

( Or is it the lamenting elegiac, which in a kind lieart ^ ^ 
w ould move rather pity than blame : \who bevyaileth. with 
the great philosopher Heraclitus, the we akness of.m aa:;.. 
kin d and the wre tchedness of the world; who surely is is 
t° be praise d, either for compassionate accompanymg 
just jcauseg,, of la mentati on, o r for rightl y^ paiafiiig_"Qut~ 
how weak be the passions of wofulness ? 

Is it the bitter but wholesom e iambic, who r ubs the 
ga lled mind, in maki ng shame the trumpet o f viUainy with 2° 
b oldand open cry ing ofll UtT^tlHl Jlau ^Sne ^^JI. 

Or the sati ric? who' " '" 

Omne vafer vitium ridenti tangit amico; 

wh o sporting l y never leaveth till he lyiajff a. pr^f^jj laiifih 
at folly, and at length ashamed to laugh at himself, which 25 
he cannot avoid without avoiding the folly ; who, while 
circum prcBcordia ludit, giveth us to feel how many head- 
aches a passionate life bringeth us to, — how, when all 
is done, 

Est Ulubris, animus si nos non deficit asquus. 30 

No, pe rchance it is the comic ; whom naug hty play- 
makers and st age-keepers have iu stbiuaade "tnlious. To 
the afgiiment of abuse I will answer after. Only thus 



much now is to be said, that (t he., comedy is an im itatioTi 
of the common errors of our li fe , which he representeth 
iii the mosE'iidJculous -a nd. -sro r nful sort that ma y be, so 
as it is imp ^sible jjhat any b eholder can be content to 

5 Be^^ucKjCiSfir) Now, as in geometry the oblique must 
be known as well as the right, and in arithmetic the odd 
as well as the even ; so in the actions of our life who 
seeth not the filthiness of evil, wanteth a great foil to 
perceive the beauty of virtue. This doth the comedy 

lo handle so, in our private and domestical matters, as with 
hearing it we get, as it were, an experience what is 
to be looked for of a niggardly Demea, of a crafty 
Davus, of a flattering Gnatho, of a vain-glorious Thraso ; 
and not only to know what effects are to be expected, 

15 but to know who be such, by the signifying badge given 
them by the comedian. And little reason hath any. man 

b to say that men learn evil by seeing it so set out; 

I since, as I said before, there is no man living, but by the 
force truth hath in nature, rio sooner seeth these men 

20 play their parts, but wisheth them in pistrinum, although 
perchance the sack of his own faults lie so behind his 
back, that he seeth not himself to dance the same meas- 
ure, — whereto yet nothing can more open his eyes than 
to find his own actions contemptibly set forth. 

25 So that the right use of comedy will, I think, by nobody 
be blamed, and much less of the high and excellent 
tragedy, that openeth the greatest wounds, and showeth 
forth the ulcers that are covered with tissue ; that mak- 

feth kings fear to be tyrants, and tyrants manifest their 

30 tyrannical humors ; that with stirring the effects of ad- 
miration and commiseration' teacheth the uncertainty of 
\ this world, and upon how weak foundations gilden roofs 
are builded ; that maketh us know : 

Qui sceptra ssevus duro imperio regit, 
35 Timet timentes, metus in auctorem redit. 


But how much it can move, Plutarch yieldeth a notable 
testimony of the abominable tyrant Alexander Pherseus ^ 
from whose eyes a tragedy, well made and represented, \ 
drew abundance of tears, who without all pity had mur-J 
dered infinite numbers, and some of his own blood ; so as 5 
he that was not ashamed to make matters for tragedies, yet 
could not resist the sweet violence of a tragedy. And if 
it wrought no further good in him, it was that he, in de- 
spite of himself, withdrew himself from hearUening to that 
which might mollify his hardened heart. But it is not " 
the t ragedy they do mislike, fo r it were too absuTcl to 
caSE^out so excellent a reprege ntation of whatsoever is 
m ost wortl^y to be learned. ' ' 

Is it the lyric that most displeaseth, who with his tuned '— 
lyre and well-accorded voice, giveth praise, the reward of 13 
virtue, to virtuous acts ; who giveth moral precepts and 
natural problems ; who sometimes raiseth up his voice 
to the height of the heavens, in singing the lauds ( of the 
immortal God? Certainly I must confess mine own 
barbarousness ; I never heard the old song of Percy and 2° 
Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than 
with a trumpet j and yet it is sung but by some blind 
crowder, with no rougher voice than rude style ; which 
being so evil apparelled in the dust and cobwebs of that 
uncivil age, what would it work, trimmed in the gorgeous 25 
eloquence of Pindar? In Hungary I have seen it the 
manner at all feasts, and other such meetings, to have 
songs of their ancestors' valor, which that right soldier- 
like nation think the chiefest kindlers of brave courage. 
The incomparable Lacedaemonians did not only carry 39 
that kind of music ever with them to the field, but even 
at home, as such songs were made, so were they all 
contenttoJje_§ingers of them ; when the lusty men were 
Ko^telT^hat the^-did, the old men what they had done, 
and the young men what they would do. And where a 35 


man may say that Pindar many times praiseth highly 
victories of small moment, matters rather of sport than 
virtue ; as it may be answered, it was the fault of the 
poet, and not of the poetry, so indeed the chief fault 
5 was in the time and custom of the Greeks, who set 
those toys at so high a price that(Philip of Macedon 
reckoned a horserace won at Olympus among his three 
fearful felicities.) But as the unimitable Pindar often did, 
so is that kind most capable and most fit to awake the 

lo thoughts froqi the sleep of idleness, to embrace honor- 
able enterprises. 

There rests the hejoical, whose very name, i think, 
should daunt all backbiters. For by what conceit can a 
tongue be directed to speak evil of that which draweth 

IS with it no less champions than Achilles, Cyrus, ^neas, 

Turnus, Tydeus, Rinaldo ? who doth not only teach and 

move to a truth, but teac heth and "movet b to ^he m ngt 

C^ htgh and 'excellent truth ; who maketh magnanimityand 

justice" shme tlirougfi all misty fearfulness and foggy 

20 desires ; who, if the saying of Plato and Tully be true, 
thatCwho could see virtue would be wonderfully ravished 
with the love of her beauty ,)this man setteth her out to 
make her more lovely, in her holiday apparel, to the eye 
of any that will deign not to disdain until they under- 

25 stand. But if anv thinp; be already said in ^-'^^ -^iffpni" "^ 

sweet poetry, all concurreth to the maintai ning the heroi- 

, calT which is not^on ly a kind, but the best and m ost 

>-^_^ccon ipiisKecrHn9 of poetry. _ For, as the image of each 

action~stirreth and instructeth the mind, so the lofty 

IS image of such worthies most inflameth the mind with 
desire to be worthy, and informs with counsel how to be 
worthy. Only let ^neas be worn in the tablet of your 
memory, how he governeth himself in th 
country; in the preserving his old fat>er, and earryin| 

35 away his religious ceremonies; in obeying the god's com-' 


mandment to leave Dido, though not only all passion- 
ate kindness, but even the human consideration of vir- 
tuous gratefulness, would have craved other of him ; how 
in storms, how in sports, how in war, how in peace, how 
a fugitive, how victorious, how besieged, how besieging, 5 
how to strangers, how to allies, how to enemies, how to 
his own ; lastly, how in his inward self, and how in his 
outward government ; and I think, in a mind most preju- 
diced with a prejudicating humor, he will be found in 
excellency fruitful, — ■ yea, even as Horace saith, melius jo 
Chrysippo ef Crantore. But truly I imagine it falleth out . 
with these poet-whippers as with some good women who ' 
often are sick, but in faith they cannot tell where.-' So 
the na me of poetry is odious to them, but neitherTnT 
cau se nor effects, neither the sum tha t contains him nor 15 
the particularities descending from him,^gi, I 

1 hagdte-tu theif car ping dTspra ise. 

A 'Since, tlien, poetry is of all human learnings tlie most 

^ ancient and of most fatherly antiquity, as from whence 

other learnings have taken their beginnings ; since it is so 20 
V finiversal that no learned nation doth despise it, nor barbarous 
nation is without it j ''mce both Eoman and Greek gave 
divine names unto it, the one of " prophesying ," the other 
of " making." and that indeed that name of " making " is fit 
for him, considering that whereas other arts retain them- 25 
selves within their subject, and receive, as it were, their 
being from it, the poet only bringeth Ms own stuff, and doth 
not learn a ijonceit out of a matter, but maketh matter for 
a conceit j^'since neither his description nor his end containetji 
any evil, the thing descri bed cannot be evil i since his effects 3° 
be so^ood as to teach goodness, and delight the learners of 
it f since therein — namely in moral doctrine, the chief of 
all .knowledges — he doth not only far pass the historian, 
but for instructing is well nigh comparable to the philoso- 
pher, and for moving leaveth him behind him ; since the 35 


VHoly Scripture, wherein there is no unoleanness, hath whole 

J parts in it poetical, and that even our Saviour Christ vouoh- 

' safed to use the flowers of itf/since all his kinds are not 

only in their united forms, but in their several dissections 

5 fully commendable j I think, and think I think rightly, the 

laurel crown appointed for triumphant captains doth worthily, 

of all other learnings, honor the poet's triumph. 

But because we have ears as well as tongues, and that 
the lightest reasons that may be will seem to weigh 
lo greatly, if nothing be put in the counter-balance, let us 
hear, and, as well as we can, ponder, what objections be 
made against this art, which may be worthy either of 
yielding or answering. 

First, truly, I note not only in these /ua-ofiovcroL, poet- 
is haters, but in all that kind of people who seek a praise 
by dispraising others, that they do prodigally spend a 
great many wandering words in quips and scoffs, carping 
/^and taunting at each thing which, by stirring the spleen, 
may stay the brain from a through-beholding the worthi- 
2° ness of the subject. Th^se kind of objections, as they 
(^are full of a very idle easiness — since there is nothing 
of so sacred a majesty but that an itching tongue may 
rub itself upon it — so deserve they no other answer, 
but, instead of laughing at the jest, to laugh at the jester. 
f=5 We know a playing wit can praise the discretion of an 
ass, the comfortableness of being in debt, and the jolly 
commodity of being sick of the plague. So of the con- 
trary side, if we will turn Ovid's verse, 

Ut lateat virtus proximitate mali, 

3° " that good lie hid in nearness of the evil," Agrippa will 
be as merry in showing the vanity of science, as Erasmus 
was in commending of folly; neither shall any man or 
matter escape some touch of these smiling railers. But 
for Erasmus and Agrippa, they had another foundation 


than the superficial part would promise. Marry, these 
other pleasant fault-finders, who will correct the verb 
before they understand the noun, and confute others' 
knowledge before they confirm their own, I would have 
them only remember that scoffing cometh not of wisdom ; 5 
so as the best title in true English they get with their 
merriments is to be called good fools, — for so have our 
grave forefathers ever termed that humorous kind of^ 

Eutj hat which giveth greatest scope to their jiconiing 10 
humor is riming and vexing. __It, Js alrea dy,__ and 
as I think truly said, it is not riming and ver sing ^ t)ia,t 
maketh poesy. One may't)e a poet withoutversing, and 
a vefSltter "wrmout poetry. But yet presuppose it were 
inseparable — as indeed it seemeth Scaliger judgeth — 13 
truly it were an inseparable commendation. For if oratio 
next to ratio, speech next to reason, be the greatest-^ 
gift bestowed upon mortality, that cannot be praiseless 
which doth most polish that blessirig of speech ; which 
considereth each word, not only as a man may say by 20 
his forcible quality, but by his best-measured quantity ; 
carrying even in themselves a harmony, — without, per- 
chance, number, measure, order, proportion be in our 
time grown odious. 

But lay aside the just praise it hath by being the only 2s 
fit speech for music — music. I sav. the most divine 
s triker of the senses — t hus mu fh js n-nHianhtprllv ta.i p- 
that if reading be foolish wit hout remembering. jo eiaQry "1 
beinglHe only treasurerorKowledge. thoaa jKOJds-wfcieh 

fare^'fi tt^nbr memory are likewise mo st convenient for 30 
knowledge! Now that verse far exceed'Sth prose in the 
knilliug l!lp of the memory, the reason is manifest ; the 
words, besides their delight, which hath a great affinity 

\to memory, being so set, as one cannot be lost but 
the whole work fails ; which, accusing itself, calleth the 35 


remembrance back to itself, and so most strongly con- 
firmeth it. Besides, one word so, as it were, begetting 
another, as, be it in rime or measured verse, by the 
former a man shall have a near guess to the follower. 

5 Lastly, even they that have taught the art of memory 
have showed nothing so apt for it as a certain room 
divided into many places, well and throughly known; 
now "that hath the verse in effect perfectly, every word 
having his natural seat, which seat must needs make the 

lo word remembered. But what needeth more in a thing s(5 
known to all men? Who is it that ever was a scholar 
that doth not carry away some verses of Virgil, Horace, 
or Cato, which in his youth he learned, and even to his 
old age serve him for hourly lessons ? as : 

15 Percontatorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est. 

Dum sibi quisque placet, creclula turba sumus. 

But the fitness it hath for memory is notably proved by 
all delivery of arts, wherein, for the most part, from 
grammar to logic, mathematic, physic, and the rest, the 

20 rules chiefly necessary to be borne away are compiled in 
verses. So that verse being in itself sweet and orderly, 
and being best for memory, the only .handle of knowl- 
edge, it must be in jest that any man can speak against it 
Now then go we to the most important imput ations 

25 laid_to the pool -poets; for aught I can yet learn they 
are these. 

/ First, that there being many other more fruitful knowl- 
edges, a man might better spend his time in them than 
in this. 

30 Secondly, that it is the mother of lies. 

Thirdly, that it is the nurse of abuse, infecting us with 
many pestilent desires, with a siren's sweetness drawing 
the mind to the serpent's tail of sinful fancies, — and 
herein especially comedies give the largest field to ear, 


as Chaucer saith ; how, both in other nations and in ours, 
before poets did soften us, we were full of courage, given 
to martial exercises, the pillars of manlike Kberty, and' 
not lulled asleep in shady idleness with poets' pastimes. 

And, lastly and chiefly, they cry out with an open mouth, 5 
as if they had overshot Robin Hood, that Plato banished 
them out of his Commonwealth. Truly this is much, if V 
there be much truth in it. j ^^^^^ 

First, to the first, that a man might better spend his 
time is a reason indeed ; but it doth, as they say, but 10 
petere principium. Fgjuf Jt ]a£,jij[ affirm, that_noJeam; 
i ng is so p [ood as that Mb trir-rfffrrhpth- and -moveth -to V^ 
virtue, and t ha t none can both teach and move thereto 
so much as poesy, then i s the conclusion manifest tha t 
ink and paper cannot be to a more profi table uuLOQse 15 
emglgyed^ 7K3 certainly, thouglTainaii should grant 
their first assumption, it should follow, me thinks, very 
unwiUingly, that good is not good because better is 
better. But I still and utterly deny that there is sprung 
out of earth a more fruitfiil knowledge. 20 

To the second, therefore, that they should be the 
principal liars, I answer paradoxically, but truly, I think 
truly, that of all writers under the sun the poet is the 
least liar ; and though he would, as a poet can scarcely 
be a liar. The astronomer, with his cousin the geometri- zs 
cian, can hardly escape when they take upon them to 
measure the height of the stars. How often, think you, 
do the physicians lie, when they aver things good for 
sicknesses, which afterwards send Charon a great number 
of souls drowned in a potion before they come to his 3' 
ferry ? And no less of the rest which take upon them to 
affirm. Now for the p oet, he nothing affirmeth, jrad 
therefore never lieth. Por, as I take it, to lie is to affirm 

that toBetrue which is false ; so as the other artists, and 
especially the historian, affirming many things, can, in 35 


the cloudy knowledge of mankind, hardly escape from 

many lies. But the poet, as I said before, never affirmeth , 

The poet never maketh any circles about your imagina- 

(V tion, to conjure you to believe for true what he writeth. 

5 He citeth not authorities of other histories, but even for 
his entry calleth the sweet Muses to inspire into him a 
good invention ; in troth, not laboring to tell you what 
is or is not, but what should or should not be. And 
therefore though he recount things not true, yet because 

lo he telleth them not for true he lieth not ; without we 
will say that Nathan lied in his speech, before alleged, 
to David ; which, as a wicked man durst scarce say, so 
think I none so simple would say that ^sop lied in the 
tales of his beasts ; for who thinketh that vEsop wrote it 

IS for actually true, were well worthy to have his name 
chronicled among the beasts he writeth of. What child 
is there that, coming to a play, and seeing Thebes writ- 
ten in great letters upon an old door, doth believe that 
it is Thebes ? If then a man can arrive at that child's- 

jo age, to know that the poet's persons and doings are but 
pictures what should be, and not stories what have been, 
they will never give the lie to things not affirmatively but 
allegorically and figuratively written. And therefore, as in 
history looking for truth, they may go away full-fraught 

25 with falsehood, so in poesy looking but for fiction, they 
shall use the narration but as an imaginative ground-plot 
of a profitable invention. But hereto is replied that 
the poets give names to men they write of, which argueth 
a conceit of an actual truth, and so, not being true, 

3oproveth a falsehood. And doth the lawyer lie then, 
when, under the names of John of the Stile, and John 
of the Nokes, he putteth his case? But that is easily 
answered : their naming of men is but to make their 
picture the more lively, and not to build any historj^ 

35 Painting men, they cannot leave men namelqgs.. We see 


we cannot play at chess but that we must give names to 
our chess-men ; and yet, me thinks, he were a very par- 
tial champion of truth that would say we lied fof giving 
a piece of wood the reverend title of a bishop. The 
poet nameth Cyrus and ^Eneas no other way than to s 
show what men of their fames, fortunes, and estates 
should do. 

Their third is, how much it abuseth men's wit, training 
it to wanton sinfulness and lustful love. For indeed that 
is the principal, if not the only, abuse I can hear alleged, lo 
They sa y the comedies rath er teach than rep^phend 
amorous coriceitS;^_^They say the lyric is larded with pas- 
sionate sonnets, the elegiac weeps the want of his 
mistress, and that even to the heroical Cupid hath 
ambitiously cUmbed. Alas ! Love, I would thou couldst 15 
as well defend thyself as thou canst offend others ! I 
would those on whom thou dost attend could either put 
thee away, or yield good reason why they keep thee ! 
But grant love of beauty to be a beastly fault, although — 
it be very hard, since only man, and no beast, hath that 20 
gift to discern beauty; grant that lovely name of Love---'' 
to deserve all hateful reproaches, although even some of 
my masters the philosophers spent a good deal of their 
lamp-oil in setting forth the excellency of it; grant, I 
say, whatsoever they will have granted, — that not only 25 
love, but lust, but vanity, but, if they list, scurrility, pos- 
sesseth many leaves of the poets' books ; yet think I when 
this is granted, they will find their sentence may with 
good manners put the last words foremost, and not say 
that poetry abuseth man's wit, but that man's wit abuseth 35}? 
poetry. For I will not deny, but that man's wit may 
make poesy, which should be eiKao-Tuc^, which some ~| 
learned have defined, figuring forth good things, to be 
<^avTa<7TtK7j, which doth contrariwise infect the fancy with , 
unworthy objects ; as the painter that should give to 3s 


the eye either some excellent perspective, or some fine 
picture fit for building or fortification, or containing in it 
some notable example, as Abraham sacrificing his son 
Isaac, Judith killing Holofernes, David fighting with 
5 Goliath, may leave those, and please an ill-pleased eye 
with wanton shows of better-hidden matters. But what ! 
(shall the abuse of a thing make the right use odious? 
^ Nay, truly, though I yield that poesy may not only be 
abused, but that being abused, by the reason of his sweet 
(•o charming force, it can do more hurt than any other army 
\ of words, yet shalHtbejoJacJjjaajEOJidudiag-lhat-the. 
abuse shouig-givere proach to t he abuged^at^eflntiarir 
wise it is'a^o3['i^soii,±liai vvhaisasxer,i!fiing -abused, 
r~ doth most ha rm, being rightl y used -^ and upon the right 
\ 15 use each thing rec,eiveth. his. titlec:r:d&thjTipst good- Do 
\ we not see the skill of physic, the best rampire to our 
often-assaulted bodies, being abused, teach poison, the 
most violent destroyer? Doth not knowledge of law, 
whose end is to even and right all things, being abused, 
20 grow the crooked fosterer of horrible injuries ? Doth not, 
to go in the highest, God's word abused breed heresy, and 
his name abused become blasphemy? Truly a needle 
cannot do much hurt, and as truly — with leave of ladies 
be it spoken — it cannot do much good. With a sword 
25 thou mayst kill thy father, and with a sword thou mayst 
defend thy prince and country. So that, as in their call- 
ing poets the fathers, of lies they say nothing, so in this 
their argument of abuse they prove the commendation. 
They allege herewith, that before poets began to be 
30 in price^ our nation hath set their hearts' delighL_upon 
action, and not upon imagination ; rather doing things 
worthy to be written, than writing' tWhgs fit to be done. 
What that before-time was, I think scarcely Sphinx can 
tell ; since no memory is so ancient that hath the prece- 
-^ dence of poetry;^^ And certain it is that, in our plainest 


homeliness, yet never was the Albion nation without 
poetry. Marry, this argument, though it be levelled 
against poetry, yet is it indeed a chain-shot against all 
learning, — or bookishness, as they commonly term it. Of 
such mind were certain Goths, of whom it is written 5 
that, having in the spoil of a famous city taken a fair 
library, one hangman — belike fit to execute the fruits of 
their wits — who had murdered a great number of bodies, 
would have set fire in it. " No," said another very 
gravely, " take heed what you do ; for while they are 10 
busy about these toys, we shall with more leisure con- 
quer their countries." This, indeed, is the ordinary 
doctrine of ignorance, and many words sometimes I 
have heard spent in it ; but because this reason is gen- 
erally against all learning, as well as poetry, or rather all 15 
learning but poetry ; because it were too large a digres- 
sion to h andle, or at least too superfluous, since it is 
manliest that all gqvernrnerit: of action is to be gotteri"^^ 
by knowledge, axTjd knowledge bsst by .,gaiiifi£ing jtnany \ 
knowledges, wKiShis reading ; _I jgilly, witiu-Horace, -tog?? 
hi m tngit is ot that opiniQiL,..^,^— „— 

Jubeo stultum esse libenter; 

for as for poetry itself, it is the freest from this objec- 
tion, for poetry is the companion of the camps. I dare 
undertake, Orlando Furioso or honest King Arthur will 25 
never displease a soldier ; but the quiddity of ens, and 
prima materia, will hardly agree with a corselet. And 
therefore, as I said in the beginning, even Turks and 
Tartars are delighted with poets. Homer, a Greek, 
flourished before Greece flourished ; and if to a slight 30 
conjecture a conjecture may be opposed, truly it may 
seem, that as by him their learned men took almost their 
first light of knowledge, so their active men received 
their first motions of courage. Only Alexander's example 


may serve, who by Plutarch is accounted of such virtue, 
that Fortune was not his guide but his footstool ; whose 
acts speak for him, though Plutarch did not ; indeed the 
phoenix of warlike princes. This Alexander left his 

5 schoolmaster, living Aristotle, behind him, but took dead 
Homer with him. He put the philosopher Callisthenes 
to death, for his seeming philosophical, indeed mutinous, 
stubbornness ; but the chief thing he was ever heard to 
wish for was that. Homer had been alive. He well 

lo found he received more bravery of mind by the pattern 
of Achilles, than by hearing the definition of fortitude. 
And therefore if Cato misliked Fulvius for carrying 
Ennius with him to the iield, it may be answered that if 
Cato misHked it, the noble Fulvius liked it, or else he 

15 had not done it. For it was not the excellent Cato Uti- 
censis, whose authority I would much more have rev- 
erenced ; but it was the former, in truth a bitter punisher 
of faults, but else a man that had never sacrificed to the 
Graces. He misliked and cried out upon all Greek 

JO learning ; and yet, being fourscore years old, began to 
learn it, belike fearing that Pluto understood not Latin. 
Indeed, the Roman laws allowed no person to be carried 
to the wars but he that was in the soldiers' roll. And 
therefore though Cato misliked his unmustered person, 

25 he misliked not his work. And if he had, Scipio Nasica, 
judged by common consent the best Roman, loved 
him. Both the other Scipio brothers, who had by their 
virtues no less surnames than of Asia and Afric, so loved 
him that they caused his body to be buried in their 

30 sepulchre. So as Cato's authority being but against his 
person, and that answered with so far greater than him- 
self, is herein of no vaUdity. 

But now, indeed, my burthen is great, that Plato's 
name is laid upon me, whom, I must confess, of all philoso- 

35 phers I have ever esteemed most worthy of reverence j; 


an5 with great reason, since of all philosophers he is the 
most poetical ; yet if he will defile the fountain out of 
which his flowing streams have proceeded, let us boldly 
examine with what reasons he did it. _^ — 

First, truly, a man might maliciously object that Plato, 5 
being a philosopher, was a natural enemy of poets. For, 
indeed, after the philosophers had picked out of the 
sweet mysteries of poetry the right discerning true points 
of knowledge, they forthwith, putting it in method, and 
making a school-art of that which the poets did only lo 
teach by a divine delightfulness, beginning to spurn at 
their guides, Uke ungrateful prentices were not content 
to set up shops for themselves, but sought by all means 
to discredit their masters ; which by the force of delight 
being barred them, the less they could overthrow them 15 
the more they hated them. For, indeed, they found for 1 
Homer seven cities strave who should have him for their 
citizen ; where many cities banished philosophers, as not 
fit members to live among them. For only repeating 
certain of Euripides' verses, many Athenians had their k 
lives saved of the Syracusans, where the Athenians 
themselves thought many philosophers unworthy to live. 
Certain poets as Simonides and Pindar, had so prevailed 
with Hiero the First, that of a tyrant they made him a 
just king ; where Plato could do so little with Dionysius, 25 
that he himself of a philosopher was made a slave. But ■ 
who should do thus, I confess, should requite the objec- 
tions made against poets with like cavillations against, 
philosophers ; as likewise one should do that should bid 
one read Phaedrus or Symposium in Plato, or the Dis- 30 
course of Love in Plutarch, and see whether any poet 
do authorize abominable filthiness, as they do. — '"^ 

Again, a man might ask out of what commonwealth 
Plato doth banish them. In sooth, thence where he him- 
self alloweth community of women. So as belike this 35 




banishment grew not for effeminate wantonness, since 
little should poetical sonnets be hurtful when a man 
might have what woman he listed. But I honor philo- 
sophical instructions, and bless the wits which bred them, 

5 so as they be not abused, which is Hkewise stretched to 
poetry. Saint Paul himself, who yet, for the credit of 
poets, allegeth twice two poets, and one of them by the 
name of a prophet, setteth a watchword upon philoso- 
phy, — indeed upon the abuse. So doth Plato upon 
0^ lo the abuse, not upon poetry. Plato found fault that the 
poets of his time filled the world with wrong opinions of 
cZ. the gods, making light tales of that unspotted essence, 
and therefore would not have the youth depraved with 
such opinions. Herein may much be said ; let this suf- 

15 fice : the poets did not induce such opinions, but did 
imitate those opinions already induced. For all the 
Greek stories can well testify that the very religion of 
that time stood upon many and many-fashioned gods ; 
not taught so by the poets, but followed according to their 

2o nature of imitation. Who list may read in Plutarch 
the discourses of Isis and Osiris, of the Cause why 
Oracles ceased, of the Divine Providence, and see 
whether the theology of that nation stood not upon such 
dreams, — which the poets indeed superstitiously ob- 

2s served ; and truly, since they had not the light of Christ, 
did much better in it than the philosophers, who, shaking 
off superstition, brought in atheism. 

Plato therefore, whose authority I had much rather 
justly construe than unjustly resist, meant not in general 

30 of poets, in those words of which Julius Scaliger saith, 
Qua authoritaie barbari quidam atque hispidi abuti 
velint ad poetas e republica exigendos ; but only meant 
to drive out those wrong opinions of the Deity, whereof 
now, without further law, Christianity hath taken away 

35 all the hurtful belief, perchance, as he thought, nourished 



by the then esttjemed poeta/ Anc^^'JTjan need go no further - 
than to Plato himself to 'Know his meSmi^af ; who, in his 
dialogue called Ion, giveth high and rightly' diyine com- \ 
mendation unto poetry. So as Plato, banishing the abuse, 
not the thing, not banishing it, but giving due honor unto -4^ 
it, shall be our patron and not our adversary. For, 
indeed, I had much rather, since truly I may do it, show 
their mistaking of Plato, under whose lion's skin they 
would make an ass-like braying against poesy, than go 
about to overthrow his authority ; whom, the wiser a lo 
man is, the more just cause he shall find to have in 
admiration ; especially since he attributeth unto poesy 
more than myself do, namely to be a very inspiring of a 1/ 
divine force, far above man's wit, as in the forenamed ^ 
dialogue is apparent. 15 

Of the other side, who would show the honors have 
been by the best sort of judgments granted them, a 
whole sea of examples would present themselves : Alex- 
anders, Caesars, Scipios, all favorers of poets ; Laelius, 
called the Roman Socrates, himself a poet, so as part ot 20 
Heautontimoroumenos in Terence was supposed to be 
made by him. And even the Greek (Socrates, whom 
Apollo confirmed to be the only wise man, is said to 
have spent part of his old time in putting ^sop's Fables 
into verses I'Jand therefore full evil should it become his =5 
scholar, Plato, to put such words in his master's mouth 
against poets. But what needs more? Aristotle writes 
the Art of Poesy ; and why, if it should not be written ? 
Plutarch teacheth the use to be gathered of them ; and 
how, if they should not be read ? And who reads Plu- 30 
tarch's either history or philosophy, shall find he trim- 
meth both their garments with guards of poesy. But I 
list not to defend poesy with the help of his underling 
historiography. Let it suffice that it is a fit soil for 
praise to dwell upon ; and what dispraise may set upon 35 

44 SECOND SU,V;i^2RY. 

it, is either easilvfliV^rcome, or transformed into just 

So t^J^nce the excellencies of it may be so easily and 
sojagtly confirmed, and the low-creeping objections so soon 
<-^Trodden downjvit not being an art of lies, but of true doc- 
trine j ^^t of effeminateness, but of notable stirring of cour- 
age; mot of abusing man's wit, but of strengthening man's 
wit i^ot banished, but honored by Pkto ; let us rather plant 
more laurels for to engarland our poets' heads — which honor 

lo of being laureate, as besides them only triumphant captains 

were, is a sufScient authority to show the price they ought to 

be held in — than suffer the ill-savored breath of such wrong 

speakers once to blow upon the clear springs of poesy, 

But since I have run so long a career in this matter, 

15 me thinks, before I give my pen a. full stop, it shall be 
but a little more lost time to inquire why England, the 

:^ mother of excellent minds, should be grown so hard a 
stepmother to poets ; who certainly in wit ought to pass 
all others, since all only proceedeth from their wit, being 

20 indeed makers of themselves, not takers of others. How 
can I but exclaim, 

Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine laeso? 

Sweet poesy ! that hath anciently had kings, emperors, 
senators, great captains, such as, besides a thousand 

=5 others, David, Adrian, Sophocles, Germanicus, not only 
to favor poets, but to be poets ; and of our rearer times 
can present for her patrons a Robert, King of Sicily; 
the great King Francis of France ; King James of Scot- 
land ; such cardinals as Bembus and Bibbiena ; such 

30 famous preachers and teachers as Beza and Melancthon ; 
so learned philosophers as Fracastorius and Scaliger ; so 
great orators as Pontanus and Muretus ; so piercing wits 
as George Buchanan; so grave counsellors as — besides 
many, but before all — that Hospital of France, than 


whom, I think, that reahn never brought forth a more 
accomphshed judgment more firmly builded upon virtue ; 
I say these, with numbers of others, not only to read 
others' poesies but to poetize for others' reading. That 
poesy, thus embraced in all other places, should only s 
find in our time a hard welcome in England, I think the 
very earth lamenteth it, and therefore decketh our soil 
with fewer laurels than it was accustomed. For hereto- 
fore poets have in England also flourished ; and, which 
is to be noted, even in those times when the trumpet of lo 
Mars did sound loudest. And now that an over-faint 
quietness should seem to strew the house for poets, they 
are almost in as good reputation as the mountebanks at 
Venice. Truly even that, as of the one side it giveth 
great praise to poesy, which, like Venus — but to better 15 
purpose — hath rather be troubled in the net with Mars, 
than enjoy the homely quiet of Vulcan ; so serves it 
for a piece of a reason why they are less- grateful to idle 
England, which now can scarce endure the pain of a^^= 
pen. / Upon this necessarily foUoweth, that base men » 
with servile wits undertake it, who think it enough if 
they can be rewarded of the printer. And so as Epami- 
nondas is said, with the honor of his virtue to have 
made an office, by his exercising it, which before was 
contemptible, to become highly respected ; so these 25 
men, no more but setting their names to it, by their own 
disgracefulness disgrace the most graceful poesy. For 
now, as if all the Muses were got with child to bring 
forth bastard poets, without any commission they do 
post over the banks of Helicon, till they make their 3° 
readers more weary than post-horses ; while, in the mean 
time, they, 

Queis meliore luto finxit prsecordia Titan, 

are better content to suppress the outflowings of their 


wit, than by publishing' them to be accounted knights of 
the same order. 
'^ But I that, before ever I durst aspire unto the dignity, 
am admitted into the company of the paper-blurrers, do 

5 find the very true cause of our wanting estimation is 
want of desert, taking upon us to be poets in despite of 
Pallas. Now wherein we want desert were a thank- 
worthy labor to express ; but if I knew, I should have 
mended myself. But as I never desired the title, so have 

lo I neglected the means to come by it ; only, overmastered 

by some thoughts, I yielded an inky tribute unto them. 

v^ Marry, they that delight in poesy itself should seek to 

know what they do and how they do ; and especially look 

themselves in ah unflattering glass of reason, if they be 

15 inclinable unto it. For poesy must not be drawn by 
the ears, it must be gently led, or rather it must lead ; 
which was partly the cause that made the ancient learned 
afifirm it was a divine gift, and no human skill, since all 
other knowledges He ready for any that hath strength of 

20 wit, a poet no industry can make if his own genius be 

[/ not carried into it. And therefore is it an old proverb : 

Orator fit, poeta nascitur. Yet confess I always that, 

as the fertilest ground must be manured, so must the 

highest-flying wit have a Daedalus to guide him. That 

!S Daedalus, they say, both in this and in other, hath three 

Y wings to bear itself up into the air of due commenda- 
tion : that is, art, imitation, and exercise. But these 
neither artificial rules nor imitative patterns, we much 
cumber ourselves withal. Exercise indeed we do, but 

30 that very fore-backwardly, for where we should exercise 
to know, we exercise as having known; and so is our 
brain delivered of much matter which never was begot- 
ten by knowledge. For there being two principal parts, 
matter to be expressed by words, and words to express 

35 the matter, in neikher we use art or imitation rightly. 


Our matter is quodlibet indeed, though wrongly perform- 
ing Ovid's verse, 

Quicquid conabar dicere, versus erat; 

never marshalling it into any assured rank, that almost 
the readers cannot tell where to find themselves. , c^ 

Chaucer, undoubtedly, did excellently in his TmihSs^ 
and Cressida; of whom, truly, I know not whether to i 
marvel more, either that he in that misty time could see 
so clearly, or that we in this clear age walk so stumblingly 
after him. Yet had he great wants, fit to be forgiven in lo 
so reverend antiquity. I account the Mirror of Magis- 
trates meetly furnished of beautiful parts; and in the 
Earl of Surrey's lyrics many things tasting of a noble 
birth, and worthy of a noble mind. The Shepherd's 
Calendar hath much poetry in his eclogues, indeed worthy is 
the reading, if I be not deceived. That same framing 
of his style to an old rustic language I dare not allow, 
since neither Theocritus in Greek, Virgil in Latin, nor 
Sannazzaro in Italian did affect it. Besides these, I do 
not remember to have seen but few (to speak boldly) zc 
printed, that have poetical sinews in them. For proof 
whereof, let but most of the verses be put in prose, and 
then ask the meaning, and it will be found that one verse 
did but beget another, without ordering at the first 
what should be at the last ; which becomes a confused =5 
mass of words, with a tinkling sound of rime, barely 
accompanied with reason. - 

Our tragedies and comedies not without cause cried 
out against, observing rules neither of honest civility nor 
of skilful poetry, excepting Gorboduc, — again I say of 3° 
those that I have seen. Which notwithstanding as it 
is full of stately speeches and well-sounding phrases, 
climbing to the height of Seneca's style, and as full of 
notable morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, 


and so obtain the very end of poesy ; yet in truth it is 
very defectious in the circumstances, which grieveth me, 
because it might not remain as an exact model of all 
tragedies. For it is faulty both in place and time, the 
5 two necessary companions of all corporal actions. For 
where the stage should always represent but one place, 
and the uttermost time presupposed in it should be, both 

, by Aristotle's precept and common reason, but one day ; 
there is both many days and many places inartificially 

lo imagined. 

^„,--'''JBut if it be so in Gorboduc, how much more in all 

the rest? where you shall have Asia of the one side, and 

Afric of the other, and so many other under-kingdoms, 

that the player, when he cometh in, must ever begin with 

15 telling where he is, or else the tale will not be conceived. 
Now ye shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers, 
and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By 
and by we hear news of shipwreck in the same place, 
and then we are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. 

20 Upon the back of that comes out a hideous monster 
with fire and smoke, and then the miserable beholders 
are bound to take it for a cave. While in the mean time 
two armies fly in, represented with four swords and 
bucklers, and then what hard heart will not receive it 

2s for a pitched field ? 

■^ Now of time they are much more liberal. For ordinary 

it is that two young princes fall in love ; after many 

traverses she is got with child, delivered of a fair boy, 

he is lost, groweth a man, falleth in love, and is ready to 

30 get another child, — and all this in two hours' space ; 
which how absurd it is in sense even sense may imag- 
ine, and art hath taught, and all ancient examples justi- 
fied, and at this day the ordinary players in Italy will not 
err in. Yet will some bring in an example of Eunuchus 

35 in Terence, that containeth matter of two days, yet far 


short of twenty years. True it is, and so was it to he 
played in two days, and so fitted to tiie time it set forth. 
And though Plautus have in one place done amiss, let us 
hit with him, and not miss with him. But they will 
say. How then shall we set forth a story which containeth 5 
both many places and many times? And do they not 
know that a tragedy is tied to the laws of poesy, and not 
of history ; not bound to follow the story, but having 
liberty either to feign a quite new matter, or to frame 
the history to the most tragical conveniency? Again, 10 
many things may be told which cannot be showed, — if 
they know the difference betwixt reporting and represent- 
ing. As for example I may speak, though I am here, of 
Peru, and m speech digress from that to the description 
of Calicut ; but in action I cannot represent it without 15 
Pacolet's horse. And so was the manfter the ancients 
took, by some Nuntius to recount things done in former 
time or other place. 

Lastly, if they will represent a history, they must nof^ 
as Horace saith, begin ab ovo, but they must comeTo 20 
the principal point of that one action which they wilt 
represent. "T By example this will be best expressed. I 
have a story of young Polydorus, delivered for safety's 
sake, with great riches, by his father Priamus to Polym- 
nestor, King of Thrace, in the Trojan war time. He, 25 
after some years, hearing the overthrow of Priamus, 
for to make the treasure his own murdereth the child ; 
the body of the child is taken up by Hecuba ; she, the 
same day, findeth a sleight to be revenged most cruelly 
of the tyrant. Where now would one of our tragedy- 30 
writers begin, but with the delivery of the child? Then 
should he sail over into Thrace, and so spend I know 
not how many years, and travel numbers of places. But 
where doth Euripides? Even with the finding of the 
body, leaving the rest to be told by the spirit of Poly 35 


dorus. This needs no further to be enlarged ; the dullest 
wit may conceive it. 

But, besides these gross absurdities, how all their plays 
be neither right tragedies nor right comedies, mingling 
5 kings and clowns, not because the matter so carrieth it, 
but thrust in the clown by head and shoulders to. play 
a part in majestical matters, with neither decency nor 
discretion ; so as neither the admiration and commisera- 
tion, nor the right sportfulness, is by their mongrel tragi- 

lo comedy obtained. I know Apuleius did somewhat so, 
but that is a thing recounted with space of time, not 
represented in one moment ; and I know the ancients 
have one or two examples of tragi-comedies, as Plautus 
hath Amphytrio. But, if we mark them well, we shall 

15 find that they never, or very daintily, match hornpipes 
and funerals. So falleth it out that, having indeed no 
right comedy in that comical part of our tragedy, we 
have nothing but scurriUty, unworthy of any chaste ears, 
or some extreme show of doltishness, indeed fit to lift 

20 up a loud laughter, and nothing else ; where the whole 

tract of a comedy should be full of delight, as the tragedy 

should be still maintained in a well-raised admiration. 

y^'^xA our comedians think there is no delight without 

-'"'^^Taughter, which is very wrong; for though laughter may 

2S come with delight, yet cometh it not of delight, as 
though delight should be the cause of laughter ; but well 
may one thing breed both together. Nay, rather in them- 
selves they have, as it were, a kind of contrariety. For 
delight we scarcely do, but in things that have a con- 

30 veniency to ourselves, or to the general nature ; laughter 
almost ever cometh of things most disproportioned to 
ourselves and nature. Delight hath a joy in it either 
permanent or present; laughter hath only a scornful 
tickling. For example, we are ravished with delight to 

35 see a fair woman, and yet are far from being moved to 


laughter. We laugh at deformed creatures, wherein cer- 
tainly we cannot delight. We delight in good chances, 
we laugh at mischances. We delight to hear the happi- 
ness of our friends and country, at which he were worthy 
to be laughed at that would laugh. We shall, contrarily, 5 
laugh sometimes to find a matter quite mistaken and go 
down the hill against the bias, in the mouth of some such 
men, as for the respect of them one shall be heartily 
sorry he cannot choose but laugh, and so is rather pained 
than delighted with laughter. Yet deny I not but that 10 
they may go well together. For as in Alexander's picture 
well set out we delight without laughter, and in twenty 
mad antics we laugh without delight ; so in Hercules, 
painted, with his great beard and furious countenance, in 
woman's attire, spinning at Omphale's commandment, 15 
it breedeth both delight and laughter ; for the representing 
of so strange a power in love, procureth delight, and the 
scomfulness of the action stirreth laughter. 

But I speak to this purpose, that all the end of the 
comical part be not upon such scornful matters as stir 20 
laughter only, but mixed with it that delightful teaching ^ 
which is the end of poesy. And the great fault, even in 
that point of laughter, and forbidden plainly by Aristotle, 
is that they stir laughter in sinful things, which are rather 
execrable than ridiculous ; or in miserable, which are 25 
rather to be pitied than scorned. For what is it to make 
folks gape at a wretched beggar or a beggarly clown, 
or, against law of hospitality, to jest at strangers because 
they speak not English so well as we do ? what do we 
learn? since it is certain : 30' 

Nil habet infelix paupertas durius in se, 
Quam quod ridicules homines fecit. 

But rather a busy loving courtier ; a heartless threatening 
Thraso; a self-wise-seeming schoolmaster; a wry-trans- 


formed traveller : these if we saw walk in stage-names, 
which we play naturally, therein were delightful laugh- 
ter and teaching delightfulness, — as in the other, the trage- 
dies of Buchanan do justly bring forth a divine admiration. 
But I have lavished out too many words of this play- 
matter. I do it, because as they are excelling parts of 
poesy, so is there none so much used in England, and 
none can be more pitifully abused ; which, like an unman- 
nerly daughter, showing a bad education, causeth her 

lo mother Poesy's honesty to be called in question. 

^ Other sorts of poetry almost have we none, but that 

lyrical kind of songs and sonnets, which. Lord if he 

gave us so good minds, how well it might be employed, 

and with how heavenly fruits both private and public, in 

•15 singing the praises of the immortal beauty, the immortal 
goodness of that God who giveth us hands to write, and 
wits to conceive ! — of which we might well want words, 
but never matter; of which we could turn our eyes to 
nothing, but we should ever have new-budding occasions. 

20 But truly; many of such writings as come under the 
banner of unresistible love, if I were a mistress would 
never persuade me they were in love; so coldly they 
apply fiery speeches, as men that had rather read lovers' 
writings, and so caught up certain swelling phrases — which 

25 hang together like a man which once told me the wind 
was at north-west and by south, because he would be 
sure to name winds enough — than that in truth they 
feel those passions, which easily, as I think, may be 
bewrayed by that same forcibleness, or energia (as the 

30 Greeks call it) of the writer. But let this be a sufificient, 
though short note, that we miss the right use of the 
material point of poesy. 

^ Now for the outside of it, which is words, or (as I may 
term it) diction, it is even well worse, so is that honey 

35 flowing matron eloquence apparelled, or rather disguised, 


in a courtesan-like painted affectation : one time with so 
far-fet words, that many seem monsters — but must seem 
strangers — to any poor Englishman; another time with 
coursing of a letter, as if they were bound to follow the 
method of a dictionary; another time with figures and s 
flowers extremely winter- starved. —'^ 

But I would this fault were only peculiar to versifiers, 
and had not as large possession among prose-printers, 
and, which is to be marvelled, among many scholars^ 
and, which is to be pitied, among some preachers. Truly lo ' 
I could wish — if at least I might be so bold to wish in 
a thing beyond the reach of my capacity — the diligent 
imitators of Tully and Demosthenes (most worthy to be 
imitated) did not so much keep NizoUan paper-books of 
their figures and phrases, as by attentive translation, as 15 
it were devour them whole, and make them wholly theirs. 
For now they cast sugar and spice upon every dish that 
is served to the table ; like those Indians, not content to 
wear ear-rings at the fit and natural place of the ears, 
but they will thrust jewels through their nose and lips, 20 
because they will be sure to be fine. Tully, when he 
was to drive out Catiline as it were with a thunderbolt 
of eloquence, often used that figure of repetition, as 
Vivit. Vivit? Immo vera etiani in senatum venit, etc. 
Indeed, inflamed with a well-grounded rage, he would 25 
have his words, as it were, double out of his mouth; 
and so do that artificially, which we see men in choler 
do naturally. And we, having noted the grace of those 
words, hale them in sometime to a familiar epistle, when 
it were too much choler to be choleric. How well 30 
store of similiter cadences doth sound with the gravity 
of the pulpit, I would but invoke Demosthenes' soul to 
tell, who vidth a rare daintiness useth them. Truly they 
have made me think of the sophister that with too much 
subtility would prove two eggs three, and though he 3s 


might be counted a sophister, had none for his labor. 
So these men bringing in such a kind of eloquence, well 
may they obtain an opinion of a seeming fineness, Tjut 
y' persuade few, — which should be the end of their fineness. 
s Now for similitudes in certain printed discourses, I 
think all herbarists, all stories of beasts, fowls, and fishes 
are rifled up, that they may come in multitudes to wait 
upon any of our conceits, which certainly is as absurd 
a surfeit to- the ears as is possible. For the force of a 

lo similitude not being to prove any thing to a contrary dis- 
puter, but only to explain to a willing hearer ; when that 
is done, the rest is a most tedious prattling, rather over- 
swaying the memory from the purpose whereto they were 
applied, than any whit informing the judgment, already 

15 either satisfied or by similitudes not to be satisfied. ' 

— For my part, I do not doubt, when Antonius and 

Crassus, the great forefathers of Cicero in eloquence, the 

one (as Cicero testifieth of them) pretended not to 

know art, the other not to set by it, because with a plain 

20 sensibleness they might win credit of popular earsj which 
credit is the nearest step to persuasion, which persua- 
sion is the chief mark of oratory, — I do not doubt, I 
say, but that they used these knacks very sparingly; 
which who doth generally use any man may see doth 

2S dance to his own music, and so be noted by the audi- 
ence more careful to speak curiously than truly. Un- 
doubtedly (at least to my opinion undoubtedly) I have 
found in divers small-learned courtiers a more sound 
style than in some professors of learning ; of which I 

30 can guess no other cause, but that the courtier following 
that which by practice he findeth fittest to nature, therein, 
though he know it not, doth according to art, though 
not by art ; where the other, using art to show art and 
not to hide art — as in these cases he should do — flieth 

35 from nature, and indeed abuseth art. 


But what ! me thinks I deserve to be pounded for stray- 
ing from poetry to oratory. But both have such an affinity 
in the wordish consideration, that I think this digression 
will make my meaning receive the fuller understanding : —^^ 
which is not to take upon me to teach poets how they s 

05 should do, but only, iinding myself sick among the rest, 
to show some one or two spots of the common infection 
grown among the most part of writers ; that, acknowl- 
edging ourselves somewhat awry, we may bend to the 
right use both of matter and manner : whereto our Ian- 10 
guage giveth us great occasion, being, indeed, capable of 
any excellent exercising of it. 

I know some will say it is a mingled language'^ Arid 
why not so much the better, taking the best of both ^ 
the other? Another will say it wanteth grammar.^ Nay, 15 
truly, it hath that praise that it wanteth not grammar. 
For grammar it might have, but it needs it not; being 
so easy in itself, and so void of those cumbersome dif- 
ferences of cases, genders, moods, and tenses, which, I 
think, was a piece of the Tower of Babylon's curse, that m 
a man should be put to school to learn his mother- 
tongue. But for the uttepng sweetly and properly the 
conceits of the mind, which is the end of speech, that-^' 
hath it equally with any other tongue in the world ; and 
is particularly happy in compositions of two or three words 35 
together, near the Greek, far beyond the Latin, — which 
is one of the greatest beauties can be in a language. 

Now of versifying there are two sorts, the one ancient, 
the other modem. The ancient marked the quantity of 
each syllable, and according to that framed his verse ; 30 
the modern observing only number, with some regard of 
the accentlfthe chief life of it standeth in that like sound- 
ing of the words, which we call rime; Whether of 
these be the more excellent would bear many speeches ; 

• the ancient no doubt more fit for music, both words 3S 


and tune observing quantity ; and more fit lively to ex- 
press divers passions, by the low or lofty sound of the 
well-weighed syllable. The latter likewise with his rime 
striketh a certain music to the ear ; and, in fine, since 

5 it doth delight, though by another way, it obtaineth the 
same purpose ; there being in either, sweetness, and 

- wanting in neither, majesty. /Truly the English, before 
any other vulgar language I know, is fit for both sorts. 
For, for the ancient, the Italian is so full of vowels that 

lo" it must ever be cumbered with elisions ; the Dutch so, 

of the other side, with consonants, that they cannot yield 

-the sweet sUding fit for a verse. The French in his 

whole language hath not one word that hath his accent in 

the last syllable saving two, called antepenultima, and little 

15 more hath the Spanish ; and therefore very gracelessly 
may they use dactyls. The English is subject to none 
of these defects. Now for rime, though we do not ob- 
serve quantity, yet we observe the accent very precisely, 
which other languages either cannot do, or will not do 

20 so absolutely. That cassura, or breathing-place in the 
midst of the verse, neither Italian nor Spanish have, the 
French and we never almost fail of. 

Lastly, even the very rime itself the Italian cannot 
put in the last syllable, by the French named the mas- 

25 culine rime, but still in the next to the last, which the 
French call the female, or the next before that, which 
the Italians term sdrucciola. The example of the former 
is buono : suono ; of the sdrucciola is femina : semina. 
The French, of the other side, hath both the male, as 

30 bon : son, and the female, as plaise : taise ; but the 
sdrucciola he hath not. Where the English hath all 
three, as dice : true, father : rather, motion : potion ; 
with much more which might be said, but that already I 
find the triflingness of this discourse is much too much 

35 enlarged. 


So that since the ever praiseworthy poesy is full of virtue- 
breeding delightfulness, and void of no gift that ought to be 
in the noble name of learning; since the blames laid against 
it are either false or feeble \ since the cause why it is not 
esteemed in England is the fault of poet-apes, not poets; s 
since, lastly, our tongue is most fit to honor poesy, and to be 
honored by poesy | I conjure you all that have had the evil ' 
luck to read this ink-wasting toy of mine, even in the name 
of the Nine Muses, no more to scorn the sacred mysteries of 
poesy I no more to laugh at the name of poets, as though lo 
they were next inheritors to fools j no more to jest at the 
reverend title of " a rimer " ; but to believe, with Aristotle, 
that they were the ancient treasurers of the Grecians' divin- 
ity ; to believe, with Bembus, that they were first bringef s- 
in of all civility | to believe, with Scaliger, that no philoso- is 
pher's precepts can sooner make you an honest man than the- 
reading of Virgil ; to believe, with Olauserus, the translator 
of Cornutus, that it pleased the Heavenly Deity by Hesiod , 
and Homer, under the veil of fables, to give us all knowl- 
edge, logic, rhetoric, philosophy natural and moral, and 20 
quid non ? to believe, with me, that there are many f 
mysteries contained in poetry which of purpose were writ- 
ten darkly, lest by profane wits it should be abused ; to 
believe, with Landino, that they are so beloved of the gods, f 
that whatsoever they write proceeds of a divine fury | lastly, 2J 
to believe themselves, when they tell you they will make 
you immortal by their verses. 

Thus doing, your name shall flourish in the printers' 
shops. Thus doing, you shall be of kin to many a poeti- 
cal preface. Thus doing, you shall be most fair, most rich, 30 
most wise, most all; you shall dwell upon superlatives. 
Thus doing, though you be libertino patre natus, you shall 
suddenly grow Herculea proles. 

Si quid mea carmina possunt. 


Thus doing, your soul shall be placed with Dante's Beav. 
trice or Virgil's Anchises. 

But if — fie of such a but ! — you be born so near the 
dull-making cataract of Nilus, that you cannot hear the 

5 planet-like music of poetry ; if you have so earth-creep- 
ing a mind that it cannot lift itself up to look to the sky 
of poetry, or rather,- by a certain rustical disdain, will 
become such a mome as to be a Momus of poetry; 
then, though I will not wish unto you the ass's ears of 

lo Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses, as Bubonax 
was, to hang himself; nor to be rimed to death, as is 
said to be done in Ireland ; yet thus much curse I must 
send you in the behalf of all poets : — that while you live 

' you live in love, and never get favor for lacking skill of 

15 a sonnet ; and when you die, your memory die from the 
earth for want of an epitaph. 


1 1. Edward Wotton. One of Sidney's dearest friends, whom he 
remembered in the will made on his death-bed, and who was one of the 
four pall-bearers at his funeral. 

1 2. Emperor's. Maximilian II. (1527-1576). 

13. Horsemanship. This was in the winter of 1574-75, when Sidney 
had just arrived at the age of 20. That Sidney profited by these lessons 
in horsemanship is apparent from his own statement in the 41st sonnet 
of Astrophel and Stella, written, as Pollard, one of his latest editors, 
thinks, in April or May, 1581 : 

Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance 
Guided so well that I obtained the prize. 
Both by the judgment of the English eyes 
And of some sent from that sweet enemy France, 
Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance, 
Town-folks my strength. 

The year before he had given this advice to his brother Robert: 
" At horsemanship, when you exercise it, read Crison Claudio, and a 
book that is called La Gloria del Cavallo withal, that you may join 
the thorough contemplation of it with the exercise; and so shall you 
profit more in a month than others in a year, and mark the bitting, 
saddling and curing of horses " (Fox Bourne, Memoir, p. 278). Cf. also 
Sonnets 49 and 53 oi Astrophel and Stella. 

1 6. Wit. A favorite word with Sidney. Used in the singular, 
7 34, 8 26, 8 34, 10 14, 12 X, 13 35, 32 25, 37 8, 30, 31, 43 14, 44 7, 8, 18, 19, 
46 1, 24, S0.2; in the plural, 3 4, 4 30, 5 31, 39 8, 42 4, 44 32, 52 17. Cf. 
aXso Jine-witted, 1413. 

1 10. Loaden. Cf. 13 28. Dr. J. A. H. Murray kindly informs me that 
this form of the past participle is found as early as 1545, in Brinklow's 
Lamentacyon (E. E. T. S. Extra Ser. No. 22), p. 82, in the translation 
of Matt. II. 28. From this time onward, for a hundred years, it is 
common, being" found several times in Shakespeare and Milton, as well 

60 NOTES. 

as in more obscure authors. It is still in use at the close of the 
eighteenth century, as, for example, in Ann Radcliffe's Journey made 
in the Summer of 17^4. Sterne (^Sentimental Journey, Amiens) even 
treats it as the infinitive of a weak verb : " he had loaden'd himself." 
Perhaps it is at present restricted to the Scotch dialect. The Scotch 
steward in Robert Louis Stevenson's Master of Ballantrae speaks of 
a ship as being " too deeply loaden." The last three references I owe 
to Mr. Ralph O. Williams of New Haven. 

1 12. He said soldiers, etc. That is frequently omitted at the begin- 
ning of object clauses. Cf. 1 14, S 14, 9 7, 15 34, 32 5, 37 3, 11, 12, 40 10, 
41 10, 43 31, 50 10, 12, 23, 53 7, 11, 54 6, 55 3, 13, I6. 

1 19. Pedanteria. Piece of pedantry. 

l2i. A piece. Or, as we say colloquially, " a bit." Cf. 45 18. 

Logician. See the Retr. Review, 10. 45 : " Sir Philip Sidney, in the 
opening paragraph of his essay, gives himself out as ' a piece of a 
logician ' ; and, in fact, the Defense of Poesy may be regarded as 
a logical discourse from beginning to end, interspersed here and there 
with a few of the more flowery parts of eloquence, but everywhere 
keeping in view the main objects of all logic and of all eloquence, — 
namely, proof and persuasion. It is, in fact, — contrary to the general 
notion that prevails concerning it in the minds of those who do not 
take the trouble of judging for themselves, — a sober and serious dis- 
quisition, almost entirely rejecting the ' foreign aid of ornament,' and 
equally free from dogmatism and declamation." 

1 25. To have wished. A construction no longer favored. 

1 26. A horse: Sidney's humor is quiet, but unmistakable. Other 
instances may be found in 2020-8, .11.11-13, 35 29-31, 3823, 4gllfi., 583-10. 

127. Drave. Cf. 2 25, stale, 4 10 (Ponsonby's ed.), strave, 27 7, 41 17. 

2 0. Unelected. Sidney, like Milton in his prose, is partial to adjec- 
tives (past participles), with the negative prefix un. See 308, 52 21. 
Unelected vocation. Cf. Sonnet 74 of .istrophel and Stella : 

I never drank of Aganippe well, 

Nor ever did in shade of Tempe sit, 

And Muses scorn with vulgar brains to dwell ; 

Poor layman I, for sacred rites unfit. 

Some do I hear of poets' fury tell, 

But, God wot, wot not what they mean by it. 

See also 46 3 ff. 

2 10-13. As . . . so. For this construction, cf. 4 35, 15 7-8, 16 5-16, 
24 22-23, 28 5-7, 29 32, 30 3-4, 8-9, 32 20-23, 36 12, 38 26-7, 39 32-3, 
45 14-17, 46 9, 23, 52 0-7. 

NOTES. 61 

2 15. Silly. Nearly = poor, as used in 2 11. Cf. Shak., ^ Hen. VI. 
I. I. 225-6: 

While as the silly owner of the goods 

Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands. 

Names of philosophers. Meaning Plato : 35 0, 40 33. 

2 16. The defacing of it. Sidney sometimes construes the verbal 
noun with a following of, as here, and sometimes directly with the 
object, the preposition being omitted. Examples of the former are: 
41,4 11, 5 34-5, 6 13-14, 12 1, 13 26, 1.6 15-16, 32 32, 33 32, 44 C, 47 16-17, 
49 34. For the latter, see 3 35, 4 2, 5 21, 6 12-13, 11 22-23, 12 19, 27 16-17, 
30 26, 3034-35, 32 19, 55 22-23. 

218. And first, etc. Puttenham's Art of English Poesy follows, for 
its first five chapters, with the exception of the second, much the same 
lines as Sidney in his opening. 

2 23. First nurse. So Harington (Haslewood, 2. 121): "The very 
Hrst nurse and ancient grandmother of all learning." 

2 24r-27. Sidney elsewhere condemns such similitudes (54 5 ff.), and 
is perhaps only employing them here for an humorous purpose, and in 
allusion to the excessive use of them by Gosson, who, in fact, introduces 
the adder in his School of Abuse (p. 46) : " The adder's death is her own 

2 25. Hedgehog. Prof. T. F. Crane of Cornell University refers me to 
KirchhoPs Wendunmuth, a German collection of fables (^Bibl. des litt. 
Vereins in Stuttgart, Bd. 98), where the story is given (7. 74). It is 
also said to be found in Camerarius' edition of .(Esop, Leipsic, 1564, 
and elsewhere (cf. Regnier's La Fontaine, i. 146, in Hachette's Les 
Grands 6,crivains de la France). I have also found it in a school 
edition (p. 90) of ^sop's Fables, published by Ginn & Co. in their 
" Classics for Children." 

2 26. Vipers. Referring to Pliny's Natural History, 10. 82. 2 : "On 
the third day it hatches its young in the uterus, and then excludes them, 
one every day, and generally twenty in number. The last ones become 
so impatient of their confinement that they force a passage through 
the sides of their parent, and so kill her." Again used by Daniel, 
Apology for Rime (Haslewood, 2. 209) : " But this innovation, like a 
viper, must ever make way into the world's opinion through the bowels 
of her own breeding." Cf. Englische Sludien 14. 195-6. 

2 29. Musaus, Homer, and Hesiod. Plato thus groups these names 
near the close of his Apology (41 ; Jowett i. 374) : " What would not a 
man give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musseus and Hesiod 
and Homer?" 

62 NOTES. 

For MusiEus, see Mahaffy, /ftj/. Grk. Lit. i. 14: "This Musaeus was 
supposed to have been a pupil or successor to Orpheus." On Hesiod, 
cf. Mahaffy, I. 98-99: "It is an admitted fact that, about the begin- 
ning of the seventh century B.C., the heroic epics of the Greeks 
were being supplanted by the poetry of real life — iambic satire, elegiac 
confessions, gnomic wisdom, and proverbial philosophy. The Greeks 
grew tired of all the praise of courts and ladies and bygone wars, and 
turned to a sober — nay even exaggerated — realism, by way of reaction 
from the worship of Homeric rhapsody. The father and forerunner of 
all this school is clearly Hesiod." 

2 30. That can say, etc. Thus Shelley, in his Defense of Poetry : 
" In the infancy of society every author is necessarily a poet, because 
language itself is poetry." And again : " They are the institutors of 
laws and the founders of civil society, and the inventors of the arts of 
life, and the teachers, who .draw into a certain propinquity with the 
beautiful and the true that partial apprehension of the agencies of the 
invisible world which is called religion." 

2 32. Orpheus, Linus. These, like Musaeus, and perhaps Hesiod 
and Homer, are semi-mythical personages. In discussing the legends 
concerning them Mahaffy says (^Hist. Grk. Lit. i. 10) : "But the very 
fact of the forging of the name of Orpheus, Musaeus, and others proves 
clearly the antiquity of these names, and that the poetry ascribed to 
them was of a character quite different from that of the Epos. The 
very frequent allusions of Plato, on the other hand, who even in three 
places quotes the words of Orpheus, show clearly that he accepted 
Orpheus and Musaeus, whom he usually co-ordinates, as ancient masters 
of religious song, and on a par with Homer and Hesiod. This general 
acceptance of Orpheus as a real personage, with no less frequent sus- 
picions as to the genuineness of the current Orphic books, appears in 
other Greek writers; e.g. Aristotle cites the so-called Orphic poems, 
just as he cites the so-called Pythagorean bobks. Apart from these 
casual allusions, our really explicit authorities are the antiquaries of 
later days, to whom we owe almost all the definite knowledge we 
possess. Pausanias, in particular, not only speaks constantly of these 
poets, but refers to some of their. hymns which he had heard, and it is 
he and Strabo who afford us the materials for constructing a general 
theory about them.'' 

Of Linus, Mahaffy says (i. 14) : "There are other names which Pau- 
sanias considers still older — Linus, the personification of the Linus 
song mentioned by Homer, and from early times identified more or less 
with the Adonis song of the Phoenicians and the Maneros of the 

NOTES. 63 

3 1-2. Not only . . . but. Cf. S 21-2, 26 12-14, 32 u-ir., 33 20-21. 

3 5. Amphion. Cf. KoriLce, Art of J'oeiry 391-6: "Once in the 
woods men lived j then holy Orpheus, heaven's interpreter, turned 
them from slaughter and their foul manner of life; hence he was said 
to have soothed tigers and ravening lions; hence too it was said that 
Amphion, founder of the Theban citadel, moved rocks to the strains of 
his lyre, and led them by alluring persuasion whithersoever he listed." 

Addressing Stella, in Sonnet 68 of Astrophel and Stella, Sidney 
writes : 

Why dost thou spend the treasure of thy sprite 
With voice more fit to wed Amphion's lyre? 

In the third of his Sonnets of Variable Verse, Sidney again couples 
Orpheus and Amphion : 

If Orpheus' voice had force to breathe such music's love 
Through pores of senseless trees, as it could make them move ; 
If stones good measure danced the Theban walls to build, 
To cadence of the tunes which Amphion's lyre did yield, 

More cause a like effect at leastwise bringeth. 

O stones, O trees, learn hearing, Stella singeth. 

3 7. Beasts. Cf. 18 18, 37 19. 

3 8. Livius Andronicus. About 284-204 B.C. Cf. Simcox, Hist. 
Lat. Lit. I. 19: "The first Latin playwright, the first schoolmaster who 
taught Greek literature. . . . Perhaps his most considerable work was 
a school-book, an abridgment of the Odyssey in the saturniau metre." 
Ennius. 239-169 B.C. Cf. Simcox, I. 22: "Throughout the republi- 
can period he was recognized as the great Roman poet. Cicero appeals 
to him as summus poeta. Lucretius speaks of the doctrines of the 
world to come which he had enshrined in everlasting verse." 

3 8 ff. Cf. Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " The age immediately suc- 
ceeding to that of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio was characterized by 
a revival of painting, sculpture, and architecture. Chaucer caught the 
sacred inspiration, and the superstructure of English literature is based 
upon the materials of Italian invention." 

3 13. Others. Cf. 47 6 ff. 

3 18. Masks of poets. Cf. Mahafiy, Hist. Grk. Lit. i. 186-7 = " While 
education and consequently literature were being more and more dis- 
seminated, prose had not yet been adopted as a vehicle of thought, and 
thus the whole intellectual outcome of the nation took the form of 
verse. Much of what remains is indeed prosaic in idea. . . . The 
wisdom of Phokylides and of Theognis is not half so poetical as Plato's 

64 NOTES. 

prose. But the Greeks awoke very slowly, as is well known, to the 
necessity of laying aside metre in writing for the public, and even when 
they did, we shall find their prose never shaking off a painful attention 
to rhythm.'' So likewise Moulton, Ancient Classical Drama, p. 121 : 
" In all literatures poetry is at the outset the sole medium of expression; 
with the advance of scientific thought a second medium is elaborated, 
but the transference of topics from poetry to prose is only gradual." 

3 18. Thales. See Mahaffy, Hist. Grk. Lit. 2. 7 : " Neither Thales 
nor Pythagoras left anything written, and it is remarkable that Xeno- 
phanes, though he was a great adversary of the poets and of public 
opinion in general, and led the conflict between philosophy and poetry, 
nevertheless employed, not only the poetic form, but even the poetic 
habit of public recitation, to disseminate his views." 

Empedocles. Cf. Mahaffy, 1 . 1 25 : " Mr. Symonds, in his essay on the 
poet, goes so far as to call him the Greek Shelley, and gives some 
striking grounds for this singular judgment. As a poet, therefore, 
Empedocles must be ranked very high, and Cicero expressly tells us 
that his verses were far superior to those of Xenophanes and Parmen- 
ides, themselves no mean artists on similar subjects." See also Matthew 
Arnold's poem, Empedocles on Etna. 

3 19. Parmenides. Cf Mahaffy, i . 1 23 : "It seems more likely that 
Parmenides came earlier, perhaps about the opening of the fifth cen- 
tury, and he still adhered in philosophy to the old didactic epic, which 
had been consecrated to serious teaching by Hesiod and his school." 

3 20. Pythagoras. Cf 3 18, above. 

Phocylides. Of him Mahaffy says, Hist. Grk. Lit. I. 188: "He imi- 
tates Simonides in satirising women by comparing them to domestic 
animals, he speaks of Nineveh familiarly as a great city, he wishes to 
be of the middle class, and even ridicules the advantages of high birth, 
so that he can in no wise be regarded as an instance of the common 
statement, that all the poets of the lyric age were aristocrats." 

3 21. Tyricetis. See Mahafiy, I. 162-3: " When the famous Leoni- 
das was asked what he thought of Tyrtaeus, he answered that he was 
. good for stimulating the soul of youth, and the extant fragments 
confirm this judgment. We have several long exhortations to valor 
(about 1 20 lines) , with pictures of the advantages of this virtue and the 
disgrace and loss attending on cowardice." 

Solon. Cf. Mahaffy, I. 175: "He is remarkable in having written 
poetry, not as a profession, nor as his main occupation, but as a relaxa- 
tion from graver cares. He was first a merchant, then a general, then 
a lawgiver, and, at last, a philosophic traveller; and all these conditions 
of life, except the first, are reflected in his extant fragments." 

NOTES. 65 

Spurious remains of some of the above poets were accepted as genu- 
ine in Sidney's time, so that the Elizabethans had more confidence in 
their linowledge of them than the critical historians of this century are 
willing to profess. 

3 24. Hidden to. Note the idiom. 

3 26. Atlantic Island. With respect to Solon's authorship of the 
story related by Plato in the Critias, Jowett says {J'lato 3. 679) : " We 
may safely conclude that the entire narrative is due to the imagination 
of Plato, . who has used the name of Solon (of whose poem there 
is no trace in antiquity) ... to give verisimilitude to his story." 

3 27. Plato. Cf. the first quotation under 3 18, 11 19 note, and Mahaffy, 
Hist. Grk. Lit. 2. 207-8 : " In his style he is as modern as in his think- 
ing. He employed that mixture of sober prose argument and of poeti- 
cal metaphor which is usual in the ornate prose of modern Europe, but 
foreign to the character and stricter art of the Greeks. This style, 
which is freely censured by Greek critics as a hybrid or bastard prose, 
was admirably suited to a lively conversation, where a sustained and 
equable tone would have been a mistake. . . . Yet his appreciation 
of the great poets, though his criticisms of them are always moral, and 
never aesthetic, was certainly thorough, and told Upon his style. Above 
all, he shows a stronger Homeric flavor than all those who professed to 
worship the epics which he censured. His language everywhere bears 
the influence of Homer, just as some of our greatest and purest writers 
and speakers use unconsciously Biblical phrases and metaphors." See 
also 24 26-7, 41 1. 

4 2. Gyges' Ring. The story is told in the Republic, 359-360 (Jow- 
ett's translation, 3. 229-230) : " According to the tradition, Gyges was 
a shepherd in the. service of the king of Lydia, and, while he was in the 
field, there was a storm and earthquake which made an opening in the 
earth at the place where he was feeding his flock. Amazed at the sight, 
he descended into the opening, where, among other marvels, he beheld 
a hollow brazen horse, having doors, at which he, stooping and looking 
in, saw a dead body, of stature, as appeared to him, more than human, 
and having nothing on but a gold ring; this he took from the finger 
of the dead and reascended. Now the shepherds met together, accord- 
ing to custom, that they might send their monthly report concerning 
the flock to the king; and into their assembly he came having the ring 
on his finger; and as he was sitting among them he chanced to turn 
the collet of the ring towards the inner side of his hand, when instantly 
he became invisible, and the others began to speak of him as if he were 
no longer there. He was astonished at this, and again touching the 

66 NOTES. 

ring he turned the collet outwards and reappeared ; thereupon he 
made trials of the ring, 'and always with the same result : when he 
turned the collet inwards he became invisible, when outwards he reap- 
peared. Perceiving this, he immediately contrived to be chosen one of 
the messengers sent to the court, where he no sooner arrived than he 
seduced the queen, and with her help conspired against the king and 
slew him, and took the kingdom." 

4 8. Herodotus. "The history of Herodotus is half a poem; it was 
written while the whole field of literature yet belonged to the Muses, 
and the nine books of which it was composed were therefore of right, 
as well as of courtesy, superinscribed with their nine names." T. L. 
Peacock, The Four Ages of Poetry. 

4 10. Stole or tisurped of poetry. So in Sidney's letter to his brother 
Robert, quoted in Fox Bourne, Memoir of Sidney, p. 276 : " Besides 
this, the historian makes himself a discourser for profit, and an orator, 
yea, a poet sometimes, for ornament; ... a poet in painting forth the 
effects, the motions, the whisperings of the people, which though in 
disputation one might say were true, yet v/ho will mark them well 
shall find them taste of a poetical vein." 

4 11. Their passionate describing of passions. Sidney is fond of 
these verbal jingles, produced by the repetition of the same word or 
root-syllable. Cf. 8 27-28,34-35, 914-15, 104-5, 1127, 1310-13, 18 18, 
18 20-21, 19 1-2, 23 3, 28, 25 20-21, 23, 26 10-11, 28 1-2, 30 24, 31 8-9, 32 5, 
33 15-16, 35 7-8, 22-23, 37 21, 38 5, 45 27, 48 31, 51 5, S3 16, 53 30, 54 32-35, 
56 35, 58 8. Specimens of rime are : 20 30. 44 20. Of assonance : 
45 19-20, 54 8-9. Of alliteration : 16 28, 32 17, 32-33, 34 32-33, 39 24, 41 11. 
Cf. also 33 34. Many of the above repetitions fall under the head 
of allowable rhetorical figures, and some of them would scarcely be 
remarked on a first reading; but there can be no question that Sidney's 
prose would be improved by a retrenchment of the more conspicuous 

4 23. Ireland. Cf. 58 11-12, and see Spenser, State of Ireland (Hales' 
edition, p. 626) : " For where you say that the Irish have always been 
without letters, you are therein much deceived, for it is certain that 
Ireland hath had the use of letters very anciently, and long before 
England. . . . For the Saxons of England are said to have their letters 
and learning and learned men from the Irish, and that also appeareth 
by the likeness of the characters, for the Saxons' character is the same 
with the Irish. ... It is to be gathered that that nation which came 
out of Spain into Ireland were anciently Gauls, and that they brought 
with them those letters which they had learned in Spain, first into 

NOTES. 67 

427. Areytos. Prof. Daniel G. Brinton, of the University of Penn- 
sylvania, kindly gives me the following information: "This was the 
name applied by the Spaniards to the combination of song and dancing 
which was the usual ritual of the native tribes. They picked up the 
word on the Great Antilles, and it is derived from the Arawack aririn, 
' to rehearse, repeat.' See Oviedo, Hist. Gen. tie las Indias, Lib. V. 
cap. I (Madrid edition)." 

A fuller account, probably from Oviedo, but not a mere transcript, 
is given by Purchas, Pilgrims, Lib. V. ch. 3 (edition of 1625; 3. 994) : 
" When their Caciques are dead they lay them on a piece of wood or 
stone, and make a fire about the same which may not burne them, but 
by degrees draw forth all the moysture in sweat, leaving only the skin 
and bones, and then in a place separate repose the same with the 
Ancestors which before had beene so dealt with ; this being their best 
Booke of Heraldrie to recount the Names and severall Descents in that 
Pedegree. If any die in battell, or so that they cannot recover his 
body, they compose Songs which the Children learne touching him, 
and the manner of his death, to supply that memoriall. These Songs 
they call Areytos. As for Letters they were so ignorant, that seeing 
the intercourse of Spaniards by Letters, they thought that Letters could 
speake, and were very cautelous in their carriage of them, lest the 
Letters might accuse them of ill demeanor by the way. When they 
will disport themselves, the Men and Women meet and take each 
other by the hand, and one goeth before which is called Tequina or 
their Master, with certaine paces measured to his singing in a low 
voice what commeth in his minde, and after him all the multitude 
answereth in a higher voice with like measures proportioned to the 
tune, and so continue they three or foiure houres, with Chicha or Mayz- 
wine among; sometimes also changing the Tequina and taking another 
with a new tune and song." 

The passage from Oviedo is as follows : " In this island, as tar as I 
have been able to learn, their songs, which they call areytos, constitute 
the only book or memorial which in these various tribes remains from 
father to son, and from the present to future times, as shall here be 
related" (p. 125). "These people have a good and courteous man- 
ner of communicating things past and ancient; this they do by means 
of their songs and dances, which they call areyto, and which is the 
same that is known among us as carol (ring-dance or chain-dance). 
. . . This areyto they perform in the following manner : When they 
desire recreation, as at the celebration of some notable festival, or merely 
for pastime on other occasions, they hold an asseihbly of many Indians 

68 NOTES. 

of both sexes (now and then of men only, and again of women by 
themselves); and so likewise at the public festivals, as for a victory 
over their enemies, or at the marriage of their cacique or provincial 
king, or other case in which there is universal rejoicing, so that men 
and women mingle freely together. In order to the increase of their 
joy and hilarity, they take one another by the hand, or link themselves 
arm in arm, or seat themselves in a line or ring. The office of leader 
is then assumed by some one, either man or woman, who proceeds to 
take certain steps backwards and forwards, after the manner of a well- 
ordered contrapas. Immediately they all repeat it after him, and thus 
they go about, singing in that key, whether low or high, that the leader 
sounds for them, and imitating him in all that he does and says, the 
number of the steps keeping measure and harmony with the verses or 
words that they sing. And according to his direction, they all respond 
with the same steps, and words, and order ; and while they are respond- 
ing the guide keeps silence, but never ceases to indicate the dancing 
step. The response having been finished, that is, the repetition of 
what the leader has prescribed, he at once proceeds to another verse 
and other words, which the whole company repeat in turn; and so 
they continue without ceasing for three or four hours or more, until 
the master or leader of the dance finishes his story, and sometimes they 
even adjourn from one day to the next. And thus with this rude 

instrument (i.e. a. kind of drum), or without it, they rehearse in song 
their memoirs and past histories, and tell of the caciques who are no 
morcj how they died, who and how great they were, and other things 
which they do not wish to have forgotten" (pp. 127-28). Cf. also 
Puttenham, Bk. I. ch. 5. 

S 10. Even. Merely. 

S 13. Prophet. Cf. Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " Poets, according 
to the circumstances of the age and nation in which they appeared, 
were called, in the earlier epochs of the world, legislators or prophets. 
A poet essentially comprises and unites both these characters. For he 
not only beholds intensely the present as it is, and discovers those laws 
according to which present things ought to be ordered, but he beholds 
the future in the present, and his thoughts are the germs of the flower 
and the fruit of latest time." 

S 20. Sortes Virgiliance. Cf. the General Introduction to Lonsdale 
and Lee's translation of Virgil, p. 4: "As the Sibylline books were 
consulted for the indications of the divine will, so the poems of Virgil, 
even in early times, were opened at random to obtain directions from 
them. It is said that the emperor Alexander Severus was encouraged 

NOTES. 69 

by lighting upon tl-.e passage in the siNth bool; of the ^'««(/ which 
bids the Roman ' rule mankind and niaUe the \Vorld obey.' . . . Per- 
haps the most famous instance is that of the passage in the fourth book 
of the Aineid, which it is said King Charles I. opened, and which runs 
as follows : 

And when at length the cruel war shall cease, 

On hard conditions may he buy the peace ; 

Nor let him then enjoy supreme command, 

But fall untimely by some hostile hand." 

5 22. Histories of the Emperors' Lives. The so-called Augustan 
Histories. The six authors represented are yElius Spartianus, Vulcacius 
Gallicanus, Trebellius Pollio, Julius Capitolinus, Flavius Vopiscus, and 
^lius Lampridius. The collection includes the lives of the Roman 
emperors from 117 to 284 a.d., but the authorship of the various 
biographies cannot always be made out with certainty. Simcox, Hist. 
Lat. Lit., says (2. 314-15) : "In general the majority of the writers 
of Augustan history huddle notes from different sources together with- 
out criticism. The only point they endeavor to form a real judgment 
on is the moral and political worth of the different emperors, and here 
they are not without insight." The life of Albinus is probably by 
Spartianus (Teuffel, Gesch. rom. Lit. § 392). 

S 23. Albimis. For Albinus in general, see Gibbon, ch. 5. The 
anecdote referred to by Sidney is related in the Augustan History, 
ch. 5 of the Life of Albinus : " He passed the whole of his boyhood 
in Africa, where he obtained such a tincture of Greek and Latin litera- 
ture as might be expected of a mind which had already begun to mani- 
fest a martial and haughty temper. As a proof of this disposition it 
is related that he used frequently to sing among his playmates, 

Arma amens capio, nee sat rationis in armis, 

afterward repeating ' Arma amens capio ' as a kind of refrain." The 
line is from the ^neid, 2. 314: "To arms I rush in frenzy — not that 
good cause is shown for arms." Albinus, who was governor of Britain, 
led an army over to Lyons against his rival, Septimius Severus, and 
was there slain. "The head of Albinus," says Gibbon, "accompanied 
with a menacing letter, announced to the Romans that he (i.e. Severus) 
was resolved to spare none of the adherents of his unfortunate com- 

5 29. Carmina. The true etymology. 

5 31. Altogether not. Not altogether. 

5 32, Delphos. Instead of Delphi. Occasionally found in Latin 

70 NOTES. 

writers, and common among the Elizabethans. Florio uses it in his 
translation of Montaigne, Shakespeare in the Winter's Tale, and 
Greene in his Pandosto, or History of Dorastus and Fawnia (1588), 
on which the Winter's Tale is founded. 

Sibylla's prophecies. See Fisher, Hist. Christian Church, pp. 73-4 : 
" The ' Sibylline Oracles 'is a collection of prophecies, partly Jewish, 
and antedating the birth of Jesus, and partly Christian. They relate 
to the Messiah and his work, and were invented with a pious intent to 
disseminate what their authors considered important religious truths. 
They are frequently quoted by early ecclesiastical writers." The best 
edition is that by Alexandre, Paris, 1869. 

5 34. Number and measure. Cf. 11 30-31, 23 23, 33 22-24, 34 21. 
High-flying. Cf. highest-flying, 46 24. 

6 1. Conceit. Invention, imagination. . So 12 2. Sometimes = con- 
ception, idea: 31 28, 29, 3629, 548, 55 23; cf. fore-conceit, 8 15. Some- 
times = apprehension, understanding : 16 11, 19 34, 23 10, 14, 30 13 (?). 

6 2. In it. Sidney does not often end a sentence with small and 
insignificant words. Other examples are 628, 11 25, 12 7, etc. 

6 6. Great learned men. Cf. 9 22-24. 

6 9. Metre. Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 132) : " Some part of the 
Scripture was written in verse, as the Psalms of David, and certain 
other songs of Deborah, of Solomon, and others, which the learnedest 
divines do affirm to be verse, and find that they are in metre, though 
the rule of the Hebrew verse they agree not on." See also Puttenham, 
Bk. I. ch. 4: "King David also, and Solomon his son, and many other 
of the holy prophets, wrate in metres, and used to sing them to the 
harp, although to many of us, ignorant of the Hebrew language and 
phrase, and not observing it, the same seem but a prose." 

612-13. Awaking his musical instruments. Ps. 57. 8, 108. 2: 
" Awake, psaltery and harp." 

6 15. Majesty. Cf. Ps. 45. 4, " And in thy majesty ride on prosperously 
because of truth and meekness and righteousness." Also, and especially, 
Ps. 18. 7-15; 97. 2-5; 104. 3; 144. 5-6. 

6 16. Beasts' joyfulness and hills' leaping. Ps. 1 14. 4, " The moun- 
tains skipped like rams and the little hills like young sheep." 

617. Almost. Pleonastic, or nearly so. See under almost, in the 
Phil. Society's Dictionary. Cf. 47 4. 

619. Beauty. From Plato, Symposium 211 (Jowett's tr. 2. 62): 
" But what if man had eyes, to see the true beauty — the divine beauty, 
I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged with the pollutions 
of mortality, and all the colors and vanities of hutaan. lite — tbvther 

NOTES. 71 

looking, and holding converse with the true beauty divine and 

6 19-20. Only cleared by failh. Perhaps with allusion to such pas- 
sages as 2 Cor. 3. 18, "But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a 
mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image 
from glory to glory." Or Heb. 11. i, "Now faith is the assurance of 
things hoped for, the proving of things not seen." Or Heb. 12. 27, 
" He endured, as seeing him who is invisible." Or Isa. 33. 17, "Thine 
eyes shall see the king in his beauty." 

6 22-23. Ridiculous an estimation. Cf. 2 12, 44 16-18, 45 4-6. 

6 24. Deeper. Note the form of the adverb, and cf. 15 4. 

625. Deserveth. Plural subject with force of singular. Cf. 11 19-20. 

6 28. noirjT^v. Poieten. Cf. the Variants. 

6 30. IloiEi'j'. Cf. the Variants. 

6 33. Maker, This word was especially used in Scotland to desig- 
nate a poet. 

7 4. Actors and players. Cf. Emerson, Uses of Great Men : " As 
plants convert the minerals into food for animals, so each man converts 
some raw material in nature to human use. . . Each man is, by secret 
liking, connected with some district of nature, whose agent and inter- 
preter he is." 

7 5. Astronomer. Cf. 12 9-12, 35 25. 

7 7. Geometrician. Cf. 12 16, 28 5, 35 25. 

7 8. Arithmetician. Cf. 28 6. 

7 10. Natural philosopher. Cf. 12 14. 

7 11. Moral philosopher. Cf. 13 T. 

7 12. Virtues, vices, and passions. Cf. 11 23, 15 17, but especially 
17 9-10. See also Sidney's letter to his brother Robert, quoted in Fox 
Bourne, Memoir, p. 277 ; " A moral philosopher, either in the epic 
part when he sets forth virtues or vices, and the natures of passions, or 
in the politic, when he doth (as he often doth) meddle sententiously 
with matters of estate." 

Follow nature. Cf., for example, Marcus Aurelius, Thoughts 7. 55 : 
" Do not look around thee to discover other men's ruling principles, 
but look straight to this, to what nature leads thee, both the universal 
nature through the things which happen to thee, and thy own nature 
through the things which must be done by thee." 

7 18-19. Compassed within the circle of a question. Cf. Sidney's letter 
to his brother Robert, quoted in Fox Bourne, Memoir, p. 276 : " We 
leave all these discourses to the confused trust of our memory, because 
they, being not tied to the tenor of a question . . ." 

72 NOTES. 

7 20. Physician. Cf. 35 28. 

7 22. Metaphysic. Metaphysician (?) . Cf. 1214, and Bacon's use 
oi politic ^ox politician. Adv. Learning I. I. i, I. 2. i, etc. 

7 22-24. Though . . . yet. Cf. 9 8-9, IS 1-2, 38 8-11, 39 2-3, 5024-25. 
7 30. The. Superfluous according to present usage. Cf. 28 2. 

7 36. So rich. Cf. S 15, 6 22, 8 8-10, 32 22, 44 31-33, 52 13, but such 
famous, 44 29-30. 

8 2. Too-much-loved. Cf. 55 25, and Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry 
\. 394 : " Compound epithets, whicli .Sir Philip Sidney had imported 
from France, and first used in his Arcadial" 

8 6. Go to man. Cf. Everett, Poetry, Comedy, and Duty, p. 312: 
" Poetry produces its creations to supplement the world. Art rears 
temples, which, in the words of Emerson already quoted, nature adopts 
into her race. Shakespeare creates a world of characters and events 
which takes its place by the side of the world of actual persons and 

8 6. // seemeth in him. For the omission of that before a subject 
clause cf. 18 7. 

88. Theagenes. Cf. 11 10-18. 

8 9. Pylades. See Euripides' drama, Iphigenia among the Tauri 
(Morley's Universal Library, No. 54). 

Orlando. The hero of Ariosto's poem, the Orlando Furioso (Eng- 
lish translation by Rose, in Bohn's Illustrated Library) . 

8 10. Xenophon's Cyrus. The hero of Xenophon's Cyropccdia, a 
historical romance (translation in Bohn's Classical Library) . 

8 16. Idea, or fore-conceit. Cf. 10 14. 

8 19. By. Concerning. Cf. 21 34, 22 1, 2. 

8 26. Neither let it, etc. Cf. Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " It (i.e. 
poetry) creates anew the universe, after it has been annihilated in our 
minds by the recurrence of impressions blunted by reiteration. It 
justifies the bold and true word of Tasso, ' Non merita nome di creatore, 
5e non Iddio ed il Poeta ' (None merits the name of creator except 
God and the poet)." 

8 29. Over all the works. Alluding to Heb. 2. 7, " And didst set 
him over the works of thy hands." Cf. Coleridge, Biog. Lit. ch. 13: 
"The primary imagination I hold to be the living power and prime 
agent of all human perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind 
of the eternal act of creation in the infinite I am." 

8 31. Force of a divine breath. Cf. 43 14, 57 2B. 

9 4. Name above all names. Philippians 2. 9. 

9 12. Art of imitation. Cf. 24 10, 42 16, 42 20, and Aristotle, Poetics, 

NOTES. 73 

I. 2: "Not only the epic and tragedy, but comedy, dithyrambic poetry, 
and all such as is to be accompanied by the flute and the lyre — all 
these are (;iti;u^o-€ij). representations by means of imitation." 

9 15. Speaking picture. Cf. 15 22; also 15 35. 

9 16. Teach and delight. So 10 21, 10 29. Cf. 11 24, 20 8-9, 50 21, 52 3, 
and Don Quixote, Bk. I. ch. 47 : " The better end of all writing, which 
is to instruct and dehght together."' 

9 17. Three general kinds. This division is taken from Scaliger, 
Poetics, 5. d. I, which I thus translate: "The kinds of poets may be 
reduced to three principal orders. The first is that of religious poets, 
such as Orpheus and Amphion, whose art was so divine that they are 
believed to have imparted a soul to inanimate things. The second is 
that of the philosophical poets, who are again of two sorts — natural, 
such as Empedocles, Nicander, Aratus, Lucretius, and moral, which is 
again divided into several species, such as political, represented by 
Solon and Tyrtseus, economical by Hesiod, and general by Phocylides, 
Theognis, and Pythagoras. The third are those of whom we shall 
presently speak." 

9 22. Hymns. By the hymns of Moses Sidney probably means the 
Song of Deliverance after the passage of the Red Sea, Exod. 15. 1-19; 
his Song of God's Guidance, uttered just before his death, Deut. 32. 1-43; 
and perhaps the Ninetieth Psalm, usually ascribed to Moses. By that of 
Deborah he means the fifth chapter of Judges. 

923. Emanuel Tremellius. A Biblical scholar (1510-1580 a.d.). 
Born a Jew, he was converted to Protestantism, and came to England, 
where he was settled for a time at Oxford. At the accession of Mary 
Tudor, in 1553, he left England. 

Franciscus j^unius. Francis Junius, or Du Jon, or Dujon, the Elder 
(1545-1602), not to be confounded with his famous son Francis, the 
Germanist and Old English scholar (1589-1677). He was associated 
with Tremellius in editing the Bible. The Third Part, which Sidney 
quotes, was issued in 1579. 

9 24. Poetical part of the Scripture. In Part HI. of their edition 
of the Bible, these scholars include among the poetical books Job, 
Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon. 

9 27. Orpheus, Amphion. Cf. note on 9 17 above, and the index of 
proper names. 

Hymns. See Mahaffy, Hist. Grk. Lit. i. 129: "There are trans- 
mitted to us, under the title of Hom,eric Hymns, a collection of five 
longer and twenty-nine shorter poems in epic dialect and metre, each 
inscribed to some particular god, and narrating some legend connected 

74 NOTES. 

with him, but in no sense religious hymns, as were those of Pamphus 
or the hymns of the choral lyric poets. The Homeric Hymns are 
essentially secular and not religious; they seem distinctly intended to 
be recited in competitions of rhapsodes, and in some cases even for 
direct pay." An English translation was made by George Chapman, 
and may be found in his works, of which a convenient edition was 
published in London in 1875. 

929. St. James'. James 5. 13. In the Ponsonby edition of the 
Defense this counsel is attributed to St. Paul. The Olney edition has 
it correctly. The words are the well-known ones of the King James 
version, " Is any merry? let him sing psalms." 

9 30-31. And t know is used. Sidney himself translated the first 
forty-three Psalms, leaving his sister, 

Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother, 

as Ben Jonson called her, to complete the Psalter. A selection from 
the work of both is contained in Ruskin's Rock Honeycomb, Sidney's 
work in Grosart's Complete Poems of Sir Philip Sidney (Fuller Worthies' 
Library, 1873), Vol. II., and the whole Psalter in the Chiswick Press 
edition of 1823. I subjoin the twenty-third Psalm in Sidney's version, 
and two specimens of his sister's rendering (Psalms 119 B and 150) : 

PSAI.M 23. 

The Lord, the Lord my shepherd is, 

And so can never I 

Taste misery. 
He rests me in green pastures His ; 

By waters still and sweet 

He guides my feet. 

He me revives ; leads me the way 

Which righteousness doth take, 

For His name's sake ; 
Yea, though I should through valleys stray 

Of death's dark shade, I will 

No whit fear ill. 

For Thou, dear Lord, Thou me besett'st; 

Thy rod and Thy staff be 

To comfort me ; 
Before me Thou a table sett'st 

Even when foes' envious eye 

Doth it espy. 

NOTES. 75 

Thou oil'st my head, Thou fiU'st my cup, 

Nay more, Thou, Endless Good, 

Shalt give me food ; 
To Thee, I say, ascended up, 

Where Thou, the Lord of all, 

Dost hold Thy hall. 

Psalm 119 B (9-16). 

By what correcting line 
May a young man make straight his crooked way ? 
By level of Thy lore divine. 
Sith then with so good cause 
My heart Thee seeks, O Lord, I seeking pray : 
Let me not wander from Thy laws. 

Thy speeches have I hid 
Close locked up in casket of my heart. 
Fearing to do' what they forbid. 
But this can not suffice ; 
Thou wisest Lord, who ever-blessed art, 
Yet make me in Thy statutes wise. 

Then shall my lips declare 
The sacred laws that from Thy mouth proceed. 
And teach all nations what they are ; 
For what Thou dost decree 
To my conceit far more delight doth breed 
Than worlds of wealth, if worlds might be. 

Thy precepts, therefore, I 
Will my continual meditation make. 

And to Thy paths will have good eye ; 
The orders by Thee set 
Shall cause me in them greatest pleasure take. 
Nor once will I Thy words forget. 

PSALM 150. 

O laud the Lord, the God of Hosts commend. 

Exalt His power, advance His holiness. 

With all your might lift His almightiness ; 
Your greatest praise upon His greatness spend. 
Make trumpet's noise in shrillest notes ascend. 

Make lute and lyre His loved fame express, 

Him let the pipe. Him let the tabret bless. 
Him organ's breath, that winds or waters lend. 

76 NOTES. 

Let ringing timbrels so His honor sound, 
Let sounding cymbals so His glory ring, 

That in their tunes such melody be found 
As fits the pomp of most triumphant king ; 

Conclude by all that air or life enfold. 

Let high Jehovah highly be extolled. 

10 1. Cato. The aphorisms bearing his name are now thought to 
belong to the third century A.D. Cf. Simcox, Hist. Lat. Lit. 2. 302 : 
" Another work of the same period, which had an enormous success in 
the Middle Ages, was the four books of moral aphorisms of Dionysius 
Cato, who has been, apparently, extensively edited by Christian copyists, 
who have left out and inserted as suited them. Still the old foundation 
is visible." 

Lucretius. About 98-55 B.C. The work to which reference is made 
is entitled On the Nature of Things. 

10 2. Manilius. A Roman poet who lived in the reigns of Augustui 
and Tiberius, concerning whom little else is known. Even his namt 
is uncertain. He is an imitator of Lucretius, whose theories he opposes 
Cf. Cruttwell, Hist. Rom. Lit. p. 315 : " The subject is called Astronomy.^ 
but should rather be called Astrology, for more than half the space is 
taken up with those baseless theories of sidereal influence which belong 
to the imaginary side of the science. But in the exordia and perora- 
tions of the book, as well as in sundry digressions, may be found 
matter of greater value, embodying the poet's views on the great 
questions of philosophy." 

Pontanus. An Italian scholar of the Renaissance (1426-1503). 
His poems were published at Venice in two volumes, 1505-8. He is 
said, on good authority, to have coined the word alliteration, in the 
sense now assigned to it. Cf. Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 2. 466 : 
" It was not, however, .by his lighter verses so much as by the five 
Ijooks called De Siellis, or Urania, that Pontanus won the admiration 
of Italian scholars. In this long series of hexameters he contrived to 
set forth the whole astronomical science of his age, touching upon the 
mythology of the celestial signs, describing the zodiac, discussing the 
motion of the heavens, raising the question of planetary influences, 
and characterizing the different regions of the globe by their relation 
to the sun's path across the sky." 

10 3. Lucan. The author (39-65 a.d.) of the unfinished epic Phar- 
salia. Quintilian says of him (10. i. 90) : "Lucan is ardent, earnest, 
and full of admirably expressed sentiments, and, to give my real opinion, 
should be classed with orators rather than poets." Cf. also Servius, in 

NOTES. 77 

his commentary on the yEneid, i . 382 : " Lucan does not deserve to 
be included among the poets, because he appears rather to have com- 
posed a history than a poem." Cruttwell, Hist. Rom. Lit. p. 371 : "A 
strong depreciation of Lucan's genius has been for some time the rule 
of criticism. . . Yet throughout the Middle Ages, and during more 
than one great epoch in French history, he was ranked among the 
highest epic poets." One of his greatest admirers was Dante (^Inf. 
4. 90), and one of his severest critics is Nisard, Poites latins de la 

10 7. Fold of the proposed subject. Cf. 7 19. 

10 8. Whether they, etc. Cf. Ruskin's Rock Honeycomb, Preface, p. 
4, note : " Satirical primarily, or philosophical, verses, as of Juvenal, 
Lucretius, or Pope's Essay on Criticism, are merely measured prose, — 
the grander for being measured, but not, because of their bonds, 
becoming poetry." 

10 14. Who having no law but wit. Such was Cicero's notion of art. 
Orator, 2. 9 : " Nor did that artist (i.e. Phidias), in forming the statue of 
Jupiter or Minerva, have in mind some individual whom he imitated ; 
rather was his soul haunted by a certain glorious beauty, upon whiqh 
he gazed intently, and by this means directed his art and his hand to 
achieve the perfect resemblance." Cicero was probably dependent for 
his opinion upon Plato, as, for example, in Timccus 28 (Jowett 3. 612) : 
" The work of the artificer who looks always to the abiding and the 
unchangeable, and who designs and fashions his work after an un- 
changeable pattern, must of necessity be made fair and perfect; bpt 
that of an artificer who looks to the created only, and fashions his 
work after a created pattern, is not fair or perfect." 

Cf. also Shakespeare's words, M. N. D. 5. 14-17 : 

And as imagination bodies forth 
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing 
A local habitation and a name. 

1017. Lucretia. The story is told in Livy i. 58. 

10 24. May be and should be. Cf. note on 18 25. 

10 26. Excellentest. For other polysyllabic superlatives, cf. 15 11, 

10 30. To move men, etc. Cf. 23 15 ff., 24 28 ff. 

1033. Noblest scope. Cf. 13 1,15 13. 

1034. Idle tongues. Cf. 32 14 ff. 

1 1 2-3. Heroic . . . pastoral. By a sort of rhetorical device, Sidney. 

78 NOTES. 

when he again introduces these species of poetry, does so in an order 
the reverse of this. Cf. 26 31, 2712, 2719, 27 22, 27 31, 2827, 29 U, 

117. Apparelled. Not merely ' dressed,' but ' showily dressed.' Cf. 
29 24, 30 23, but especially 52 35. Shakespeare has a similar use of 
the word, as in Err. 3. 2. I2 : " Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger." 

11 8." Namberous. Note the form. 

11 9. But an ornament. Cf. 33 11 ff. See also Harington (Hasle- 
wood, 2. 131) : "The other part of poetry, which is verse, as it were 
the clothing or ornament of it." 

11 11. Many versifiers. Cf. 46 6. 

11 13-16. Xenophon . . . heroical poem. Literally excerpted by 
Meres, Palladis Tamia (Haslewood, 2. 150). 

1115. Cicero. See his letter to his brother Quintus, I. I. 8. 23: 
"This Cyrus is not portrayed by Xenophon with historical accuracy, 
but in the likeness of just rule." 

11 16. Heliodorus. Fox Bourne says of Sidney {Memoir, p. 324) : 
" In his youth he had read diligently the Ethiopic History of Heliodorus, 
lately translated out of the Greek by Thomas Underdown." Cf. also 
Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry 4. 299, and see Dunlop, History of Fiction, 
ch. I. The tale is found in Greek Romances, Bohn's Classical 
Library. Meres thus imitates Sidney (Haslewood, 2. 150) : "And as 
Heliodorus writ in prose his sugared invention of that picture of love 
in Theagenes and Chariclea, ... so Sir Philip Sidney vnrit his immortal 
poem The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia in prose, and yet our rarest 
poet." Cf. Vauquelin, Art Poitique (1605) :;. 261-6. 

11 17. Sugared. A word much used by the Elizabethans, in the 
sense of ' charming,' ' delightful.' 

1119. Jt is not riming and versing that maketli a poet. Cf. Shelley, 
Defense of Poetry : " An observation of the regular mode of the recur- 
rence of harmony in the language of poetical minds, together with its 
relation to music, produced metre, or a certain system of traditional 
forms of harmony and language. Yet it is by no means essential that 
a poet should accommodate his language to this traditional form, so 
that the harmony, which is its spirit, be observed. The practice is 
indeed convenient and popular, and to be preferred especially in such 
composition as includes much action; but every great poet must inev- 
itably innovate upon the example of his predecessors in the exact 
structure of his peculiar versification. The distinction between poets 
and prose writers is a vulgar error. . . . Plato was essentially a poet — 
the truth and splendor of his imagery, and the melody of his language, 

NOTES. 79 

are the most intense that it is possible to conceive. . . . Lord Bacon 
was a poet. His language has a sweet and majestic rhythm, which 
satisfies the sense no less than the almost superhuman wisdom of his 
philosophy satisfies the intellect. ... All the authors of revolutions 
in opinion are not only necessarily poets as they are inventors, nor even 
as their words unveil the permanent analogy of things by images which 
participate in the life of truth; but as their periods are harmonious and 
rhythmical, and contain in themselves the elements of verse; being the 
echo of the eternal music." See also Abbott, Introduction to Bacon's 
Essays, pp. 23-4 : " But Bacon was a poet, the poet of Science. His 
eye, like the poet's — 

in a fine frenzy rolling, 
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven 

— catching at similarities and analogies invisible to uninspired eyes, 
giving them names and shapes, investing them with substantial reality, 
and mapping out the whole realm of knowledge in ordered beauty." 
Cervantes says, Don Quixote, Bk. I. ch. 47 : " An epic may also be as 
well written in prose as in verse." Cf. Vauquelin, L'Art Poet. 2. 261-6. 

11 23. Notable images. Sidney, like Aristotle in his Poetics, is fond 
of using the language of the sister art of painting when discoursing of 
poetry. Cf 9 15, 10 12 ff., IS 33, 16 13, 22, 19 C, 14, 36 21, 34-6, 37 3S ff. 

11 2C. Fittest raiment, etc. Cf. 33 16-24. 

1127. Matter . manner. Cf. 4634. 

11 29. Chanceably. Cf. 5 18. 

11 30. Peizing. Poising, weighing. Used by Shakespeare. 

11 34. Parts. Cf 26 12 ff. Anatomies. Dissections. 

12 15. Music. Cf. 23 25, 33 26, and see 20 10. 

1218. Dungeon. Cf Plato, Phcedo 82-3 (Jowett I. 460): "The 
soul is able to view real existence only through the bars of a prison, 
and not of herself unhindered; she is wallowing in the mire of all 
ignorance; and philosophy, beholding the terrible nature of her con- 
finement, inasmuch as the captiv* through lust becomes a chief accom- 
pHce in her own captivity . . . philosophy, I say, shows her that all 
this is visible and tangible, but that what she sees in her own nature 
is intellectual and invisible." 

12 21. Ditch. See Plato, Thecctetus 174 (Jowett 4. 324): "I will 
illustrate my meaning, Theodorus, by the jest which the clever witty 
Thracian handmaid made about Thales, when he fell into a well as he 
was looking up at the stars. She said that he was so eager to know 
what was going on in heaven, that he could not see what was before 

80 NOTES. 

his feet. This is a jest which is equally applicable to all philosophers." 
Cf. Sonnet 19 of Astrophel and Stella : 

. . . Unto me, who fare like him that both 
Looks to the skies, and in a ditch doth fall ? 

12 25. Serving sciences. Cf. 14 29. 

12 28. Mistress-knowledge. Florio, in his translation of Montaigne, 
uses ffzirf^w as a quasi-adjective: "The mistress and worthiest part" 
(2. 13); "this sovran and mistress amity" (2. 19). 

'Apxi-TeicToi/iK'l). For the English form of the adjective, see Fulke 
Greville, Life of Sidney (^Works 4. 21): "But the truth is, his end 
was not writing, even while he wrote, nor his knowledge moulded for 
tables or schools; but both his wit and understanding bent upon his 
heart, to make himself and others, not in words or opinion but in life 
and action, good and great. In which architectonical art he was such 
a master, with so commanding and yet equal ways amongst men, that 
wheresoever he went he was beloved and obeyed." 

12 30. Ethic and politic. Cf. 13 24-26, 16 18, 20 3. 

12 31. Well-doing. Cf. IS 13, 22 26. 

12 32. Saddler's, etc. Cf. Aristotle, Ethics 1. i : "All moral action, 
that is to say all purpose, no less than all art and all science, would 
seem to aim at some good result. Hence has come a not inapt 
definition of the chief good as that one end at which all human actions 
aim. Now ends clearly differ from one another. For, firstly, in some 
cases the end is an act, while in others it is a material result beyond 
and beside that act. And, where the action involves any such end 
beyond itself, this end is of necessity better than is the act by which 
it was produced. And, secondly, since there are many kinds of moral 
action, and many arts, and many sciences, their ends are also many; 
medicine, for example, giving us health, boat-building a boat, tactics 
victory, and economics wealth. And, where many such arts are subordi- 
nated to some one, — as to riding is subordinated bridle-making, and 
all other arts concerned with the production of accoutrements for 
horses, while riding itself, and with it all other martial service, is subor- 
dinated to the science of military tactics, and in many other arts the 
same scale of subordination is to be found, — in all such cases the end 
of the supreme art or science is higher than are the ends of the arts 
subordinate to it; for it is only for the sake of the former that the 
latter are sought." 

13 1. So that, etc. Cf. 26 7-8. 

13 4. Princes. Cf. 26 9, and Don Quixote, Part II. ch. 16 (Duf- 

NOTES. 81 

field's translation) : " Poetry, noble sir, to my seeming, is like unto a 
gentle maiden, young in years, and of extreme beauty, whom to enrich, 
beautify, and adorn, is the care of the many maidens who attend her 
— which be the other sciences, — and she must be served of all, while 
to all these she must lend her lustre. But this same maiden will brook 
no handling, nor be haled through the streets." 

13 9. For to. Cf. 44 9, 49 27. 

13 11. Set their names. Drawn from Cicero, Archias II. 26 (cf. 
Tusc. Disp. I. 15. 34) : "Those very philosophers even in the books 
which they write about despising glory, put their own names on the 
title-page. In the very act of recording their contempt for renown and 
notoriety, they desire to have their own names known and talked of." 

13 12. Subtility. Cf. S3 35. Angry. See Trench's Plutarch, p. 132. 

13 14. Definitions. Cf. 16 17, 23 21. 

13 15. Distinctions. Cf. 16 34. 

1329. Authorizing himself, etc. Cf. 35 35, 365. 

14 2. In u great chafe. The phrase is found again in Sidney's 
masque, The Lady of the May. 

14 4. Testis temporum. From Cicero, On Oratory 2. 9. 36 : " His- 
tory, the evidence of time, the light of truth, the life of memory, the 
directress of life, the herald of antiquity." 

14 11. Abstract. Cf. 15 23. 

14 16. Guide . . ., light. The antithesis will here be more striking 
if we substitute the Latin words, dtix, lux. 

14 20. Brutus. 85-42 B.C. The Brutus of Shakespeare's Julius 
Ccesar. Cf. Plutarch, Brutus 4 : " During the time that he was in camp, 
those hours that he did not spend with Pompey he employed in reading 
and study; and thus he passed the day before the battle of Pharsalia. 
It was the middle of summer, the heats were intense, the marshy situa- 
tion of the camp disagreeable, and his tent-bearers were long in coming. 
Nevertheless, though extremely harassed and fatigued, he did not anoint 
himself till noon; and then, taking a morsel of bread, while others 
were at rest, or musing on the event of the ensuing day, he employed 
himself till the evening in writing an epitome of Polybius." 

Alphonsus. 1385-1454. Ticknor, Hist. Span. Lit. i. 317 (3d 
Amer. ed.) : " Alphonso the Fifth of Aragon, a prince of rare wisdom 
and much literary cultivation." Cf. Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 2. 
252-3 : " In the second age of humanism . . . Alfonso of Aragon deserved 
the praise bestowed on him by Vespasiano of being, next to Nicholas V., 
the most munificent promoter of learning. His love of letters was 
genuine. . . . Vespasiano relates that Beccadelli's daily readings to his 

82 NOTES. 

master were not interrupted during the campaign of 1443, when Alfonso 
took the field. . The Neapolitan captains might be seen gathered 
round their monarch, listening to the scholar's exposition of Livy, 
instead of wasting their leisure in games of hazard. Beccadelli him- 
self professes to have cured an illness of Alfonso's in three days by read- 
ing aloud to him Curtius's Life of Alexander. . . When the Venetians 
sent him one of the recently discovered bones of Livy, he received it 
like the relirc of a saint, nor could the fears of his physicians prevent 
him from opening and reading the MS. of Livy forwarded from Florence 
by Cosimo de' Medici, who was then suspected of wishing to poison 

1421. Maketh a point. Cometh to an end or focus. 

1429. Compare we, etc. Bacon follows Sidney in regarding this 
classification as exhaustive in respect to human learning. Cf. De Aug- 
mentis z. 1 ( Works 4, 293) : " Wherefore from these three fountains. 
Memory, Imagination, and Reason, flow these three emanations. His- 
tory, Poesy, and Philosophy; and there can be no others. For I con- 
sider history and experience to be the same thing, as also philosophy 
and the sciences." 

14 32. The divine. Cf. 23 lS-14. 

15 3. Formidine, etc. From Horace, .ff/irf. I. 16. 52-3; "Through 
jove of virtue good men shrink from sin : you commit no crime, because 
you fear punishment." 

IS 4. DotA not endeavor. Cf. 38 18. 

IS 10. Naughtiness. Wickedness. Cf 27 21, 31. 

IS 13. Manners. With the sense of the Latin mores, including 
morals as well as manners. Cf. his letter to his brother Robert, quoted 
in Fox Bourne, Memoir, p. 223 : " For he (i.e. Homer) doth not mean 
by mores how to look or put off one's cap with a new-found grace, 
although true behavior is not to be despised. . . . But mores he takes 
for that from whence moral philosophy is so called." 

15 19. Bare. Cf. 24 5. 

15 20. Misty. Cf 30 19, 36 1, 47 8. 

15 24. Happy is that man, etc. Cf. 18 12-13, 25 11-14. 

IS 27. Particular truth, etc. Cf. 15 34-35, 18 29-35. 

15 34. So as. So that. Cf. 5 5, 7 31-32, 18 12, 28 3-4, 29 5, 33 6, 35 34, 
40 30, 43 4, 20, SO 8, and 20 1, note. 

16 2. Wordish. Cf ii 3. 

16 6. Who. Cf 42 20, 43 30; and see 43 16. 

16 8. Gorgeous palace. Cf Shak. Rom. 3. ^. 85; Rich. If. 3. 3. 148 
7>/«/. 4. 152. Architector. Architect. 

NOTES. 83 

1612. Lively. Living. Cf. 36 34 (= lifelike), and its use as an 
adverb, 56 1. 

16 21. If they be not illuminated, e.\.<:. Cf.SAi^ty, Defense of Poetry : 
" Ethical science arranges the elements which poetry has created, and 
propounds schemes and proposes examples of civil and domestic life : 
nor is it for want of admirable doctrines that men hate, and despise, 
and censure, and deceive, and subjugate one another. But poetry acts 
in another and diviner manner. . . . The great instrument of moral 
good is the imagination ; and poetry administers to the effect by acting 
upon the cause." And see also Emerson, Essay on Books: "The 
imagination infuses a certain volatility and intoxication. It has a flute 
which sets the atoms of our frame in a dance, like planets; and, once 
so liberated, the whole man reeling drunk to the music, they never quite 
subside to their old stony state. But what is the imagination? Only 
an arm or weapon of the interior energy; only the precursor of the 

16 26. Anchises. Cf. jSneid 2. 634-650. 

1626. Ulysses. Cf. Orf(/««y 5. 149-158: "But the lady nymph went 
on her way to the great-hearted Odysseus, when she had heard the 
message of Zeus. And there she found him sitting on the shore, and 
his eyes were never dry of tears, and his sweet life was ebbing away 
as he mourned for his return; for the nymph no more found favor in 
his sight. . . . And in the day-time he would sit on the rocks and on 
the beach, straining his soul with tears, and groans, and griefs, and 
through his tears he would look wistfully over the unharvested deep." 

15 28. Barren and beggarly. Homer frequently calls Ithaca ' rocky ' 
and 'rugged.' Cf. Odyssey I. 247. Modern writers confirm this 

16 29. Short madness. The current form of the proverb is found in 
Horace, Ep. I. z. 62, but Sidney refers to Seneca, On Anger i. i. 
Ajax. In Sophocles' drama of that name. 

16 35. Ulysses, Cf. Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " Homer embodied 
the ideal perfection of his age in human character; nor can we doubt 
that those who read his verses were awakened to an ambition of 
becoming like to Achilles, Hector, and Ulysses." 

17 1. Nisus and Euryalus. Cf. Virgil, jEneid 9. 176-182, 433- 
445 : " Nisus was guard of the gate, right valiant in arms, son of 
Hyrtacus; whom Ida, the hunter's hill, had sent to follow .(Eneas; 
quick was Nisus with the dart and flying arrows; by his side was his 
companion Euryalus; there was not a fairer than he among all the 
men of .lEneas, who had put on Trojan arms; the unshorn cheeks of 

84 NOTES. 

the boy were just streaked with the early down of youth. One love 
the two did feel, together to the wars they rushed. . . . Euryalus 
falls and writhes in death, and the blood gushes o'er his lovely limbs, 
and his neck sinking down reclines on his shoulder. Even as when a 
bright flower cut down by the plough languishes in death, or when 
poppies droop their heads with weary neck, if perchance they are 
burdened with a weight of rain. But Nisus rushes into the midst; 
among them all he makes for Volscens alone, on Volscens alone are 
his efforts bent. Around him the foes collect, they close in fight, they 
push him back on either side. He presses on with no less zeal, he 
whirls his flashing sword, until he has buried it full in the shouting 
Rutulian's mouth, and in the act of death he takes his enemy's life. 
Then he threw himself on his lifeless friend, pierced with many a 
wound, and there at last reposed in tranquil death," 

17 3. CEdipus. In Sophocles' play of CEdipus King. 

17 4. Agamemnon. In j^schylus' play of that name. 

175. Atreus. Cf. yEschylus' /^^ootiSotkok, 1555— 1580. 

176. Theban brothers. Eteocles and Polynices. See ..Eschylus' 
Seven against Thebes. Sour sweetness. Cf. Shak. Rich. II. 5. 5. 42. 

17 7. Medea. See the Medea of Euripides. Gnatho. A parasite in 
Terence's comedy, The Eunuch ; cf. the English adjective gnathonic. 

17 8. Pandar. In Chaucer's Troilus and Cressida ; cf. the English 
noun pander. 

17 12. See through them. Cf. the compounds in 18 3, 32 19. 

1 7 15. Feigned Cyrus in Xenophon. Cf. 19 10-11. 

17 16. jEneas. Cf. 30 32 ff. 

17 17. Utopia. Cf. Jowett's remarks in his translation of Plato, 
3. 186-8: "The 'Utopia' of Sir Thomas More is a surprising monu- 
ment of his genius, and shows a reach of thought far beyond his con- 
temporaries. The book was written by him at the age of about 34, 
and is full of the generous sentiments of youth. He brings the light 
of Plato to bear upon the miserable state of his own country. . . . He 
is gifted with far greater dramatic invention than any one who -suc- 
ceeded him, with the exception of Swift. . . . More is as free as Plato 
from the prejudices of his age, and far more tolerant." 

17 28. Mediocribus, etc. From Horace, Art of Poetry 372-3: 
" Mediocrity in poets is condemned by gods and men, aye, and book- 
sellers too." 

17 32. Our Saviour, etc. Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 131): 

"But, to go higher, did not our Saviour himself speak in parables? 

as that divine parable of the Sower, that comfortable parable of the 


Prodigal Son, that dreadful parable of Dives and Lazarus, though I 
know of this last, many of the Fathers hold that it is a story indeed, 
and no parable." 

1734. Dives. Luke 1 6. 19-31. 

18 1. That. Like the Latin emphatic ille. Cf. S3 18, S3 23. 

18 2. Lost child. The parable of the Prodigal Son, Luke 15. 11-32. 

18 10. Parables. Bacon, Adv. Learning 2. I. I: "Parables, which 
is divine poesy." 

1815. Popular. Cf. 25 14-15, and Harington (Haslewood, 2. 125) : 
" Such are the pleasant writings of learned poets, that are the popular 
philosophers and the popular divines." 

18 24. Fantastically. Fancifully, imaginatively. Qf. note on 37 34, 
and Shak. Macb. I. 3. 53, 139. 

18 25. Discourse of Poesy. Cf. 43 28. The passage referred to is 
from the beginning of the ninth chapter (9. 1-3), which I thus trans- 
late : " From the foregoing remarks it must also be clear that the task 
of the poet as such is not to relate actual occurrences exactly as they 
took place, but rather to give an air of verisimilitude to what might 
happen, and to depict the possible in such a way as to make it seem 
either probable or necessary. The real distinction between the poet 
and the historian is not found in the employment of verse by the 
former, and of prose by the latter, for, if we suppose the history of 
Herodotus to be versified, it would be nothing but history still, only 
now in a metrical form. The true ground of difference is that the his- 
torian relates what has taken place, the poet how certain things might 
have taken place. Hence poetry is of a more philosophical and serious 
character than history; it is, we might say, more uni-versal and more 
ideal. Poetry deals with the general, history with the particular. Now 
the general shows how certain typical characters will speak and act, 
according to the law of probability or of necessity, as poetry indicates 
by bestowing certain names upon these characters, but the particular 
merely relates what Alcibiades, s. historic individual, actually did or 
suffered." See also 10 24, 49 6 ff. 

18 34. The particular only marketh, etc. Cf. Shelley, Defense of 
Poetry : " There is this difference between a story and a poem, that a 
story is a catalogue of detached facts, which have no other connexion 
than time, place, circumstances, cause, and effect; the other is the 
creation of actions according to the unchangeable forms of human 
nature, as existing in the mind of the creator, which is itself the image 
of all other minds. . . Time, which destroys the beauty and the use 
of the story of particular facts, stripped of the poetry which should 

86 NOTES. 

invest them, augments that of poetry, and for ever developes new and 
wonderful applications of the eternal truth which it contains." 
19 1. Which reason, etc. Cf. note on 54 32. 

1910. Was. Cf. 19 32. Doctrinabk. Instructive. 

19 11. Justin. A writer of the second century A.D., author of an 
abridgment of the older history of Pompeius Trogus, who was nearly 
contemporary with Livy. The account of Cyrus is in Justin i. e,-%, and 
is probably based upon that in Herodotus. 

1912. Dares Phrygius. An apocryphal history of the Trojan war 
passed current in the Middle Ages under this name, and was regarded 
as the authentic account of an eye-witness and participant, since Homer 
actually mentions a certain Dares, Iliad 5.9: " Now there was amid 
the Trojans one Dares, rich and noble, priest of Hephaistos." Scaliger, 
in his Poetics, still assumes that the history is true, and Sidney appar- 
ently follows him. 

19 16. Horace. In his Fifth Epode, and again in the Eighth Satire 
of the First Book, Horace describes the witch Canidia. Both descrip- 
tions recall the witch scenes in Macbeth. The beginning of the 
description in the Eighth Satire is as follows, 23-28 : " I myself saw 
Canidia stalking along with her sable robe tucked up, naked were her 
feet, dishevelled her hair, she howled in company with the elder 
Sagana; their ghastly color made them both horrible to look on. Then 
they began to scrape the earth with their nails, and to tear with their 
teeth a black lamb." 

19 19. Tantalus. Cf. Euripides, Orestes 5-10 : 

E'en Tantalus, the son of Jove the blest , 

(Not to malign his fate), hangs in the air, 

And trembles at the rock which o'er his head 

Projects its threatening mass ; a punishment 

They say, for that, to heaven's high feast admitted, 

A mortal equal with the immortals graced, 

He curbed not the intemperance of his tongue. 

And Cicero, Tusc. Disp. 4. 16. 35: "The poets, to express the great- 
ness of this evil, imagine a stone to hang over the head of Tantalus, 
as a punishment for his wickedness, his pride, and his boasting. And 
this is tlie common punishment of folly; for there hangs over the head 
of every one whose mind revolts from reason some similar fear." 

19 21. Where. Whereas. So in 19 3, 24 22, 29 35, 41 18, 21, 25, SO 20j 
but ivhereas, 19 27. 

19 22. Without. Unless. Cf. 33 22, 36 10. 

NOTES. 87 

1925. Misliked. Disliked. Cf. 21 17, 24, 25, 40 19. 

19 27. Quintus Curtius. A Latin writer who probably lived in the 
time of the Emperor Claudius, and who wrote a history of Alexander 
the Great in ten books, eight of which have been preserved. 

20 1. So . . . as. So . . . that. Cf. 21 18, 25 5, 28 10, 33 34, 34 2-3. 
20 13. Zopyrus. The story is related by Herodotus, 3. 153-160, and 
by Justin in i. 10. Cervantes refers to it, Don Quixote, Bk. 1. ch. 47. 
20 20. Tarquinius. Related by Livj', i. 53-54. 

20 22. Abradatas. Sidney means either Gadatas or Araspes ; cf. 
the Cyropadia, Bk. 5. ch. 3 ; Bk. 6. ch. 1. 

21 4. To. As to. 

21 5. Learning is gotten. Omission of the relative, as in 43 16. 

21 7. Virtue exalted and vice punished. Cf. Bacon, Adv. Learning 
2. 4. 1-2 : " In the latter it is (i.e. in respect of matter poesy is) . . 
one of the principal portions of learning, and is nothing else but 
feigned history, which may be styled as well in prose as in verse. The 
use of this feigned history hath been to give some shadow of satisfac- 
tion to the mind of man in those points wherein the nature of things 
doth deny it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul; by 
reason whereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more ample 
greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety, than 
can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or 
events of true history have not that magnitude which satisBeth the 
mind of man, {joesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical. 
Because true history propoundeth the successes and issues of actions 
not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feigns 
them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed provi- 
dence. Because true history representeth actions and events more 
ordinary and less interchanged, therefore poesy endueth them with 
more rareness, and more unexpected and alternative variations. So 
as it appeareth that poesy serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, 
morality, and to delectation. And therefore it was ever thought to 
have some participation of divineness, because it doth raise and erect 
the mind, by submitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind; 
whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the nature ot 
things. And we see that by these insinuations and congruities with 
man's nature and pleasure, joined also with the agreement and consort 
it hath with music, it hath had access and estimation in rude times and 
barbarous regions, where other learning stood excluded." 

21 11. Handmaid. Cf. 40 2. 

21 12. Storm. Odyssey, Book V. 

88 NOTES. 

21 16. As the tragedy-writer answered. Cf. Plutarch, On Listening 
to Poetry {Morals 2. 54) : " As Euripides is reported, when some 
blamed him for bringing such an impious and flagitious villain as Ixion 
upon the stage, to have given this answer : But yet 1 brought him not 
off till I had fastened him to a torturing vifheel." 

2122. Miltiades. Cf. Cicero, Republic I. 3. 5 : "They tell us that 
Miltiades, the vanquisher and conqueror of the Persians, before even 
those wounds were healed which he had received in that most glorious 
victory, wasted away in the chains of his fellow-citizens that life which 
had been preserved from the weapons of the enemy." 

21 23. Phocion. Cf. Plutarch, Phocion 38 : " The proceedings against 
Phocion put the Greeks in mind of those against Socrates. The treat- 
ment of both was equally unjust, and the calamities thence entailed 
upon Athens were perfectly similar." 

21 24. Cruel Severus. Septimius Severus. 

21 25. Excellent Severus. Alexander Severus. For an account of 
both these emperors see Gibbon, Decline and Fall, chs. 5, 6, and 7. 

Sylla. Cf. Mommsen, Hist. Rome (English tr.) 3. 469 : " Little more 
than a year after his retirement, in the sixtieth year of his life, while 
yet vigorous in body and mind, he was overtaken by death ; . the 
rupture of a blood-vessel carried him off." 

Marius. Cf. Mommsen, 3. 391: "A burning fever seized him; 
after being stretched for seven days on a sick bed, in the wild fancies 
of which he was fighting on the fields of Asia Minor the battles whose 
laurels were destined for Sulla, he expired on the 13th Jan. 668 (i.e. 86 
B.C.). He died, more than seventy years old, in full possession of what 
he called power and honor, and in his bed; but Nemesis assumes 
various shapes, and does not always expiate blood with blood." 

2126. Pompey. Cf. Mommsen, Hist. Rome 4. 508: "As he was 
stepping ashore, the military tribune Lucius Septimius stabbed him 
from behind, under the eyes of his wife and son, who were compelled 
to be spectators of the murder from the deck of their vessel, without 
being able to rescue or revenge. On the same day, on which thirteen 
years before he had entered the capital in triumph over Mithridates, 
the man, who for a generation had been called the Great and for years 
had ruled Rome, died on the desert sands of the inhospitable Casian 
shore by the hand of one of his soldiers." 

Cicero. Cf Plutarch, Cicero 48 : "The tribune, taking a few soldiers 
with him, ran to the end of the walk where he was to come out. But 
Cicero perceiving that Herennius was hastening after him, ordered his 
servants to set the litter down; and putting his left hand to his chin, 

NOTES. 89 

as it was his custom to do, he looked steadfastly upon his murderers 
Such an appearance of misery in his face, overgrown with hair, and 
wasted with anxiety, so much affected the servants of Herennius that 
they covered their faces during the melancholy scene. That officer 
despatched him, while he stretched his neck out of the Utter to receive 
the blow. Thus fell Cicero, in the sixty-fourth year of his age." 

21 28. Virtuous Cato. Cato of Utica. 

21 31. CcBsar's own words. Reported by Suetonius, Julius Casar 
77 : " SuUam nescisse literas, qui dictaturam deposuerit." This, which 
would naturally be translated, " Sylla was an ignorant fellow to abdi- 
cate the dictatorship," might also be rendered, " Sylla was an ignorant 
fellow to abdicate the office of dictating to pupils." This, as my friend 
Professor Bernadotte Perrin, of Adelbert University, to whom I am 
indebted for this reference, says, is " an etymological joke, and si poor 
one." Sidney evidently gathers from it some such meaning as this : 
"Sylla was without learning (a man of untutored noblgness), and for 
this reason laid down the dictatorship." Cf. Bacon, Adv. L. i. •]. 29. 

Who. Caesar. His whole later career was an undoing of Sylla's 
work. The beginning of it is marked by Suetonius, yulius Ccesar 5 : 
" Having been elected military tribune, the iirst honor he received from 
the suffrages of the people after his return to Rome, he zealously 
assisted those who took measures for restoring the tribunitian authority, 
which had been greatly diminished during the usurpation of Sylla." 

22 1. In hell. So by Virgil in the Sixth Book of the ^neid, and by 
Homer in the Eleventh Book of the Odyssey. 

11 2. Occidendos esse. That they are to be slain. Cf. the note on 
Phalaris below. 

22 3. Cypselus, Periander. Cf. Herodotus 5. 92; "And Cypselus, 
having obtained the tyranny, behaved himself thus : he -banished many 
of the Corinthians, deprived many of their property, and many more 
of their life. When he had reigned thirty years, and ended his life 
happily, his son Periander became his successor in the tyranny. Now 
Periander at first was more mild than his father; but when he had 
communicated by embassadors with Thrasybulus, tyrant of Miletus, he 
became far more cruel than Cypselus; . . . whatever Cypselus had 
left undone, by killing and banishing, Periander completed." 

22 4. Phalaris. Cf Cicero, On Duties 2. 632: "Now, as to what 
relates to Phalaris, the decision is very easy; for we have no society 
with tyrants, but rather the widest separation from them; nor is it con- 
trary to nature to despoil, if you can, him whom it is a virtue to slay - - 
and this pestilential and iriipious class ought to be entirely exterminated 
from the community of mankind." 

90 NOTES. 

Diouysius. Dionysius the Elder, tyrant of Syracuse. Cf. Cicero, 
Tusc. Disp. 5. 20-22, 57-63. 

2211. Laurel crmun. Cf. 32 6, 44 9, 45 8. 

22 12. Victorious. Note the double construction, with of and with 

22 14. For suppose, etc. Cf. 35 12-14. 

22 18. <iiKoi^\.Ki(!o(^os. A friend to the philosopher. Apparently 
coined by Sidney. 

22 26. YvSitns. Knowledge. IlpSfis. Practice. Cf. Aristotle, Ethics 
1.3: " For the true object of ethicar study is not merely the knowledge 
of what is good, but the application of that knowledge." 

22 30-32. As well . . . as . . . as. Note the peculiar structure. 

23 2. Beholding. Beholden. Now obsolete in this sense. 

23 12. Hoc opus, hie labor est. This is the task, this the struggle. 
Virgil, jEneid 6. 1 29. 

23 21. Margent. This, and not margin, is the regular Shakespearian 

23 25. Forsooth. Cf. 25 14. 

23 26. A tale, Ac. Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 133) : "They pre- 
sent unto us a pretty tale, able to keep a child from play, and an old 
man from the chimney corner." 

23 31. Pleasant taste. Cf. 23 19, 25 2. .\ striking parallel to this is 
found in a book which we know Sidney had consulted (cf. 924 note), 
the edition of the Bible by Tremellius and Junius. I translate from the 
Preface to Part III. : " For when the Holy Spirit saw that mankind 
could scarcely be persuaded to the practice of virtue, and that we, 
being inclined by the wickedness of our nature to sensual delights, 
neglected the rule of right living, what did He do? In the midst of 
His graver instructions He scattered the alluring harmonies of song, 
that while our ears were attuned to their sweetness and grace, we might 
imperceptibly descry the lessons which the words convey, just as expe- 
rienced physicians do, who, when they would administer unpleasant 
medicines to the sick, are wont to smear the mouth of the cup with 
honey, lest the bitterness of the drug cause the patient to refuse its 
Tirtue." He may also have seen the same idea expressed in Tasso I. 3, 
here given in Fairfax's translation : 

Thither, thou know'st, the world is best inclined 
Where luring Parnass most his sweet imparts, 
And truth conveyed in verse of gentle kind, 
To read perhaps will move the dullest hearts ; 

NOTES. 91 

So we, if children young diseased we find, 
Anoint with sweets the vessel's foremost parts. 
To make them taste the potions sharp we give ; 
They drink deceived, and so deceived they live. 

Cf. also Gosson, School of Abuse, p. 20: "The deceitful physician 
giveth sweet syrups, to make his poison go down the smoother." 
All of these go back to Lucretius, i . 936-950 : "But even as physicians 
when they purpose to give nauseous vi'ormwood to children, iirst smear 
the rim round the bowl -with the sweet yellow juice of honey, that the 
unthinking age of children may be fooled as far as the lips, and mean- 
while drink up the bitter draught of wormwood and though beguiled 
yet not be betrayed, but rather by such means recover health and 
strength; so I now, since this doctrine seems generally somewhat 
bitter to those by whom it has not been handled, and the multitude 
shrinks back from it in -dismay, I have resolved to set forth to you our 
doctrine in sweet-toned Pierian verse and o'erlay it as it were with the 
pleasant honey of the Muses, if haply by such means I might engage 
your mind on my verses, till such time as you clearly, perceive with 
what shape the whole nature of things has been put together." 

23 31. Whic/i: Referring to persons. Cf. 23 35. 

241. Cradled in their graves. Note this highly poetical expression. 

24 8. As Aristotle saith. I translate from Poetics 4. 2. 3 : " For 
imitation is inbred in men from childhood. And they differ in this 
respect from other living beings that they are the most imitative, and 
acquire their first learning through imitation, and that they all take 
pleasure in the products of the mimetic art. This is proved by experi- 
ence. The pictures of those very things which in themselves are . dis- 
agreeable to look on, these pictures, though painted with the utmost 
acciuracy, we are delighted to gaze at, such, for example, as those of the 
vilest animals or of dead bodies." 

24 12. Amadis de Gaule. A contemporary French critic, Baret, in 
a learned monograph on the Amadis de Gaule (Paris, 1873), says 
(p. 143) : " In every other respect the Amadis is an exact reproduction 
of antique chivalric sentiments. Martial enthusiasm linked with the 
adoration of woman; religious faith; the inviolability of a promise 
once given; the constant endeavor to maintain the right of the weak 
by reason or by arms; honor and loyalty regarded as dearer than life 
itself; all these noble and useful virtues are to be found in the knights 
gathered round King Lisuarte, no less than in those who adorned the 
court of King Arthur." 

24 15. Courage. Cf. 29 20-35, 35 2, 38 29-32, 39 24. 

92 NOTES. 

I't^.i. Carrying old Anchiscs. ^TJ^ciV 2. 705-804. 

24 20. Fugientem, etc. ySneid 12. 645-6: "Shall this land see 
Turnus a fugitive? Is it so passing hard to die?" 

24 26. Plato and Boethius. Plato frequently quotes from Homer. 
For Boethius cf. 26 24. 

24 30. Indulgere genio. Referring to Persius, Sat. 5. 151; "Give 
your genius play; let us take pleasure as it comes; life is ours and it 
is all we have." 

25 6. Menenius Agrifpa. The story is told by Livy, 2. 32. Cf. also 
Shak. Cor. i. I. 99-158. 

25 11. Far-fet. Far-fetched. Cf. S3 2. 
25 23. As. That. 

25 27. Nathan. See 2 Sam. 12, and cf. 36 11, below. Sidney's words 
are echoed by ?Iarington (Haslewood, 2. 131). 

26 1. In a glass. Cf 28 24, 46 14. Filthiness. Cf. the use of the 
same word in the rendering of this very Psalm of Mercy by Sidney's 
sister : 

For I, alas, acknowledging do know 

My filthy fault ; my faulty filthiness 

To my soul's eye uncessantly doth show. 

Which done to thee, to thee I do confess, 

Just judge, true witness ; that for righteousness 

Thy doom may pass against my guilt awarded, 

Thy evidence for truth may be regarded. 

268. So poetry, eic. Cf. 3028ff. 
26 17. Defections. Cf. 48 2. 

2622. Tragi-comical. Cf. SO 10-14. 

2623. Sannazzaro. A Neapolitan scholar and poet (1458-1530) 
the author of the Arcadia. Cf. Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 5. 197, 
211: "To Sannazzaro belongs the glory of having first explored Arcadia, 
mapped out its borders, and called it after his own name. He is the 
Columbus of this visionary hemisphere. . . . For English students the 
Arcadia has a special interest, since it begot the longer and more 
ambitious work of Sir Philip Sidney. Hitherto I have spoken only 
of its prose; but the book blends prose and verse in alternating 

26 24. Boethius. Cf. Morley, First Sketch of Eng. Lit., pp. 24-5 ; 
" Boethius, a Roman senator, lost the favour of Theodoric by a love for 
his country, which his enemies called treason, was imprisoned, and 
from prison led to execution, about the year 525. In prison he wrote 
his noble work called The Consolation of Philosophy, in five books of 

NOTES. 93 

prose, mixsd with verse. The first of its five books recognised as the 
great source of consolation that a wise God rules the world; the second 
argued that man in his worst extremity possesses much, and ought to 
fix his mind on the imperishable; the third maintained that God is the 
chief good, and works no evil; the fourth, that, as seen from above, 
only the good are happy; and the fifth sought to reconcile God's 
knowledge of what is necessary with the freewill of mankind." 

26 34. MelibtsusK Cf. Virgil's First Eclogue. 
27 1. Tityrus. See last note. 

273. Wolves and sheep. Probably referring to Spenser, Ninth 
Eclogue (September) of the Shepherd's Calender. If so, it is easier to 
understand why Sidney's judgment upon Spenser's work (cf. 47 16-19) is 
so harsh. 

27 7. Strave. Cf. 41 17, and the note on 1 27. 

27 10. Hac memini, etc. Virgil, Eel. 7. 69-70: "These verses I 
remember, and how the vanquished Thyrsis vainly strove. From that 
day it has been with us Corydon, none but Corydon." 

27 12. Which. But Sidney immediately passes over to personifica- 
tion, as in the characterization of the other species below. 

27 14. Heraclitus. Cf. Seneca, On Anger 2. 10. 5 : " Heraclitus, as 
often as h^ went forth a-doors, and saw about him such a multitude of 
evil livers, nay, rather, men dying wickedly, he wept, having com- 
passion on all those that met him with a joyful and contented coun- 

27 23. Omne vafer, etc. Condensed from a couplet of Persius, Sat. 
I. 1 16-7: 

Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico 
Tangit, et admissus circum praecordia ludit. 

Conington thus translates : " Horace, the rogue, manages to probe every 
fault while making his friend laugh ; he gains his entrance, and plays 
about the innermost feelings." Gildersleeve, in his edition of Persius, 
would translate prcecordia by ' heart-strings.' Gosson quotes the coup- 
let, p. 31. 

27 28. Circum pracordia ludit. See last note. 

27 30. Est Ulubris, etc. Modified from Horace, Epist. I. 11. 30, 
which has te for nos. Lines 25 to 30 are thus translated by Howes : 

For if 'tis wisdom gives content and ease — 
Not a fair prospect of expanded seas, 
Who roam abroad from shore to shore, shall find 
They change the climate only, not the mind. 

94 NOTES. 

Idly alert we traverse sea and land 
In quest of happiness that lies at hand. 
Let but good sense each fretful whim control 
And tranquillize the tumuUs of the soul, 
'Tis here — 'tis anywhere : you cannot miss ; 
And Ulubrae may prove the seat of bliss. 

Ulubrse was a town of Latium proverbial for its desolation. Cf. Juvenal 
10. I02; Cicero, Familiar Letters 7. 18. 3. 
27 32. Justly. Cf. 47 28-9. 

27 33. Argument of abuse. The first direct reference to Gosson's 
diatribe. Cf. 34 31, 37 30, 38 7 ff., 42 9-10, 43 4, 52 8, and especially 38 28. 

28 1. The comedy. Cf. 28 26-27, SO 21. 

28 8. Wantetk a great foil. Cf. Milton, Areopagitica : " Good and 
evil we know in the field of this world grow up together almost insep- 
arably; and the knowledge of good is so involved and interwoven with 
the knowledge of evil, and in so many cunning resemblances hardly to 
be discerned, that those confused seeds which were imposed upon 
Psyche as an incessant labor to cull out and sort asunder, were not 
more intermixed. It was out the rind of one apple tasted, that the 
knowledge of good and evil, as two twins cleaving together, leaped 
forth into the world. And perhaps this is that doom which • Adam fell 
into of knowing good and evil ; that is to say, of knowing good by evil. 

" As therefore the state of man now is, what wisdom can there be 
to choose, what continence to forbear, without the knowledge of evil ? 
He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits and seem- 
ing pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish and yet prefer that 
which is truly better, he is the true warfaring Christian. I cannot 
praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue unexercised and unbreathed, that 
never sallies out and seeks her adversary, but slinks out of the race, 
where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and 
heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into the world, we bring 
impurity much rather; that which purifies us is trial, and trial is by 
what is contrary. That virtue therefore which is but a youngling in 
the contemplation of evil, and knows not the utmost that vice promises 
to her followers, and rejects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure; her 
whiteness is but an excremental whiteness; which was the reason why 
our sage and serious poet Spenser (whom I dare be known to tbink a 
better teacher than Scotus or Aquinas), describing true temperance 
under the person of Guion, brings him in with his palmer through the 
Cave of Mammon and the Bower of Earthly Bliss, that he might see 
and know, and yet abstain." 

NOTES. 95 

So Bacon, De Augmentis 7. 2 (^Works 5. 17-18): "For it is not 
possible to join the wisdom of the serpent with the innocence of the 
dove, except men be perfectly acquainted with the nature of evil itself, 
for without this virtue is open and unfenced; nay, a virtuous and honest 
man can do no- good upon those that are wicked, to correct and reclaim 
them, without first exploring all the depths and recesses of their malice. 
For men of corrupted minds presuppose that honesty grows out of an 
ignorance or simplicity of manners, and believing of preachers, school- 
masters, books, moral precepts, common discourses and opinions; so 
as, except they plainly perceive that you know as much of their corrupt 
opinions and depraved principles as they do themselves, they despise 
all honesty of manners and counsel." And see also Plutarch, On Listen- 
ing to Poetry (^Morals 2. 66) : " And of this nature is Homer's poetry, 
which totally bids adieu to Stoicism, the principles whereof will not 
admit any vice to come near where virtue is, nor virtue to have any 
thing to do where any vice lodgeth, but affirms that he that is not a 
wise man can do nothing well, and he that is so can do nothing amiss. 
Thus they determine in the schools. But in human actions and the 
affairs of common life the judgment of Euripides is verified, that 

Virtue and vice ne'er separately exist, 

But in the same acts with each other twist." 

28 ia-13. Demea, etc. Characters in th^ plays of Terence, the Latin 
dramatist : respectively a parsimonious old man, a slave, a parasite, and 
a braggart. 

28 20. In pistrinum. This phrase is borrowed from Terence and 
Plautus, in whom the master, if he wishes to bring a slave to terms, 
threatens to send him to labor in the mill. Thus Terence, Andria 
I. 2. 28 : " I'll hand you over, Davus, beaten with stripes, to the mill, 
even to your dying day." And F\a.utus, Mostellaria I. i. 16; "Before 
long you'll be handed over to the mill." 

2824. I{is own actions. Cf. Gosson, p. 31 : "Now are the abuses 
of the world revealed; every man in a play may see his own faults, and 
learn by this glass to amend his manners." Gosson borrows this thought 
from Cicero. According to Donatus, '' Cicero says that comedy is an 
imitation of life, a mirror of customs, an image of truth." Cf. Shake- 
speare, Hml. 3. 2. 23-27: "The purpose of playing, whose end, both 
at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to 
nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the 
very age and body of the time his form and pressure." Cf. also Hml. 
3.4. 19-20: 

96 NOTES. 

You go not till I set you up a glass 
Where you may see the inmost part of you. 

28 25. By nobody be blamed. See Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " In 
the drama of the highest order there is Uttle food for censure or hatred; 
it teaches rather self-knowledge and self-respect. . . But in periods 
of the decay of social hfe, the drama sympathizes with that decay." 
And again: "And it is indisputable that the highest perfection of 
human society has ever corresponded with the highest dramatic excel- 
lence; and that the corruption or the extinction of the drama in a 
nation where it has once flourished, is a mark of a corruption of man- 
ners, and an extinction of the energies which sustain the soul of social 

2828. Covered with tissue. Cf. Shakespeare, Hml. 3. 4. 145-150: 

Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, 
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks : 
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place. 
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within. 
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven ; 
Repent what's past ; avoid what is to come. 

28 30. Admiration and commiseration. Aristotle's ' awe and pity,' 
or ' fear (terror) and compassion,' as his words in the sixth chapter 
of the Poetics are variously translated. Cf. SO 22, 52 4. 

28 32. Gilden. An Old English form. Cf. Astrophel and Stella, 
Sonnet 11, " gilden leaves." 

28 33. Roofs. Apparently = Lat. tecta, dwellings. 

28 34. Qui sceptra, etc. Seneca, CEdipus 705-6, which I translate : 

The savage tyrant, bearing sternest rule. 

Dreads those who dread him, and his fear recoils 

To plague the inventor. 

292. Alexander Pkemus. Plutarch, Pelopidas 29, relates of this 
Alexander the incident to which Sidney alludes : " For he (i.e. Epami- 
nondas) knew his savage disposition, and the little regard he paid to 
reason or justice; that he buried some persons alive, and dressed 
others in the skins of bears and wild boars, and then, by way of diver- 
sion, baited them with dogs, or despatched them with darts; that hav- 
ing summoned the people of Meliboea and Scotusa, towns in friendship 
and alliance vnth him, to meet him in full assembly, he surrounded 
them with guards, and with all the wantonness of cruelty put them 
to the sword. . . . Yet upon seeing a tragedian act the Troades of 

.VOTES. 97 

Euripides, he went hastily out uf the theatre, and at the same time 
S3nt a message to the actor not to be discouraged, but to exert all his 
skill in his part; for it was not out of any dislike that he went out, but 
he was ashamed that his citizens should see him, who never pitied those 
he put to death, weep at the suiferings of Hecuba and Andromache." 
Plutarch repeats this somewhat more dramatically in his Fortune or 
Virtue of Alexander (^Morals 1 . 492) . 

2918. Lauds of the immortal God. Cf. 52 15 ff. 

29 20. Barbarousness. Cf. Child, Et^. and Scott. Popular Ballads, 
Part VI. p. 305, note: "The courtly poet deserves much of ballad 
' lovers for avowing his barbarousness (one doubts whether he seriously 
believed that the gorgeous Pindar could have improved upon the 
ballad), but what would he not have deserved if he had written the 
blind crowder's song down?" 

Percy and Douglas. Cf. Child, Ballads, p. 305 : " The song of 
Percy and Douglas, then, was sung about the country by blind fiddlers 
about 1580 in a rude and ancient form, much older than the one that 
has come down to us; for that, if heard by Sidney, could not have 
seemed to him a song of an uncivil age, meaning the age of Percy and 
Douglas, two hundred years before his day. It would give no such 
impression even now, if chanted to an audience three hundred years 
later than Sidney." 

29 26. Hungary. Where Sidney was for a month or so, just before 
completing his nineteenth year (August or September to October, 1573). 
See Fox Bourne, Memoir, pp. 64-5. 

29 33-35. The lusty men, etc. Plutarch, Laws and Customs of the 
Lacedcemonians (^Morals I. 90-91), 

30 7. Olympus. By mistake for Olympia. 

30 7-8. Three fearful felicities. Cf. Plutarch, Alexander 3 : " Philip 
had just taken the city of Potidsea, and three messengers arrived the 
same day with extraordinary tidings. The first informed him that 
Parmenio had gained a great battle against the lUyrians; the second, 
that his racehorse had won the prize at the Olympic games; and the 
third, that Olympias was brought to bed of Alexander. His joy on 
that occasion was great, as might naturally be expected; and the 
soothsayers increased it by assuring him that his son, who was born in 
the midst of three victories, must of course prove invincible." 

30 16. Turnus. A celebrated character in the last half of the yEneid. 
Cf. note on 24 20. Tydeus. See Iliad, Bk. 4. Rinaldo. See Ariosto, 
Orlando Furioso. 

30 20. Plato. Cf. his Phiedrus 250 (Jowett 2, 127): "For sight is 

98 NOTES-. 

the keenest of our bodily senses; though not by that is wisdom seen; 
her loveliness would have been transporting if there had been a visible 
image of her, and the same is true of the loveliness of the other ideas 
as well." 

Tully. Cf. Cicero, On Duties I. 5. 15 : " You here perceive at least a 
sketch, and, as it were, the outline of virtue; which, could we perceive 
her with our eyes, would, as Plato says, kindle a wonderful love of 
wisdom." Cf. also Sonnet 25 of Astrophel and Stella : 

The wisest scholar of the wight most wise 
By Phoebus' doom, with sugared sentence says, 
That virtue, if it once met with our eyes, 
Strange flames of love it in our souls would raise. 

" The wight most wise by Phoebus' doom " is of course Socrates. Cf. 
43 23. 

3026. Sweet poetry. Cf. 44 23; also 36 6, 41 8. 

30 27. Best. Cf. Dryden, Discourse on Epic Poetry (near the be- 
ginning) : " An heroic poem (truly such) is undoubtedly the greatest 
work which the soul of man is capable to perform. The design of it 
is to form the mind to heroic virtue by example ; it is conveyed in verse 
that it may delight while it instructs." 

3110-11. Melius Chrysippo et Grantor e. Horace, Epist. I. 2. 4. 
The opening lines are (Howes' translation) : 

While in the schools of Rome, you, LoUius ! plead, 

I at Prseneste with new rapture read 

The tale of Troy divine, whose facts declare 

Where moral fitness lies — expedience where. 

Better than all the logic of the sage. 

Than Grantor's precepts or Chrysippus' page. 

Chrysippus was a famous Stoic (282-209 B.C.). Cf. Cicero, Character 
of the Orator i. II. 50: "For we see that some have reasoned on the 
same subjects jejunely and dryly, as Chrysippus, whom they celebrate 
as the acutest of philosophers; nor is he on this account to be thought 
to have been deficient in philosophy, because he did not gain the talent 
of speaking from an art which is foreign to philosophy." 

Of Crantor Cicero says ( Tusc. Disp. 3. 6. 12): " Crantor, who 
was one of the most distinguished men that our academy has ever 

31 12. Poet-whippers. Xf. 32 14. 

31 16. Particularities. Cf 26 19 fif. 

31 17. Carping. Cf 32 17. 

NOTES. 99 

31 19. Ancient. Cf. 2 18-3 l.j. 

31 21. Learned. Cf. 5 8-6 33. Barbarous. Cf. 4 21-.'! 7. Sidney 
here inverts the order, as indicated in the note on 11 2-3. 

31 23. Prophesying. Cf. 5 12-16. 

31 24. Making. Cf. 6 28-33. 

31 27. His own stuff. Cf. 7 1-8 30. 

31 29. Description. Cf. 9 9 ff. End. 13 1 ff. 

3131. Goodness. Cf. 263-11. 

31 32. Chief. Cf 13 1-2. 

31 33. The historian. Q.i. 22 7-10. 
3134. The philosopher. Cf. 22 14-23. . 

32 1. Holy Scripture. Cf. 9 17-26, 17 32 ft"., 25 27 ff. 

32 3. Kinds. Cf. 9 17 ff. 

32 4. Dissections. Cf. 11 1 ff., 26 19 ff. 

32 14. Mt(rojuoi;(ro(. Apparently coined by Sidney. 

32 17. Wandering. Rambling. 

3219. Through-beholding. Cf 183. 

32 20. Those kind. Sidney usually employs the singular demonstra- 
tive with kind. Thus 32 15, 33 8, 52 11-12. 

32 25. The discretion of an ass. Probably in allusion to the I02d 
chapter of Agrippa's work (see 32 30, below) entitled A Digression in 
Praise of the Ass. 

32 26-27. Comfortableness plague. Francesco Berni, an Italian 

author (ca. 1496-1535), wrote on these two subjects, debt and the 
plague. Cf. Symonds, .^^«omo«« «K /to/y 5. 364. That on the plague 
is one of the best of the so-called Capitoli, in which such subjects were 
treated, and which he was so graceless as to invent, or rather revive. 
Such themes had been chosen by the sophists of the first Christian 
centuries as a means of exhibiting their intellectual dexterity and rhe- 
torical skill, but it was reserved for Berni and his imitators to add 
touches of bestial obscenity of which their masters were incapable. 

32 29. Another instance of .Sidney's adaptation of the Latin authors 
to his purpose. The line in Ovid stands {Art of Love 2. 662) : 

Ut lateat vitium proximitate boni, 

which Sidney might have expressed by, " That vice lie hid in nearness 
of the good." 

32 30. Agrippa. (Henry) Cornelius Agrippa, a German scholar 
(i486— 1535). Emerson, Essay on Books, says: "Cornelius Agrippa 
' On the Vanity of Arts and Sciences ' is a specimen of that scribatious- 
ness which grew to be the habit of the gluttonous readers of his time, 

100 NOTES. 

. . They read voraciously, and must disburden themselves; so they 
take any general topic, as Melancholy, or Praise of Science, or Praise 
of Folly, and write and quote without method or end." Agrippa's 
fourth chapter is a diatribe against poetry, which Harington endeavors 
to refute (Haslewood, 2. 125 £f.). 

32 31. Erasmus. The famous Dutch scholar . (1467-1536). His 
Encomium Morice, or Praise of Folly, was written in 1509. It owes 
a part of its celebrity to the illustrations by Holbein. 

33 5. Scoffing Cometh not of wisdom. Cf. for example, Prov. 9. 8 : 
" Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee; rebuke a wise man, and he 
win love thee." " Bacon, quoting Prov. 14. 6 {Adv. Learning 2. 21.9), 
thus comments upon it: 'He that cometh to seek after knowledge 
with a mind to scorn and censure, shall be sure to find matter for his 
humor, but no matter for his instruction.' " 

33 15. Scaliger. The second book of his Poetics is devoted to the 
Matter of Poetry, as he calls it, under which head he treats of metrical 

3316. Oratio, etc. Cf Cicero, On Duties I. 16. 50: "Of this (i.e. 
human society) the bond is speech and reason (oratio et ratio), which 
by teaching, learning, communicating, debating, and judging, conciliate 
men together, and bind them into a kind of natural society." 

34 7. Throughly. Common in Shakespeare. 01. Hml. 4.5.136. 

3415. Percontatorem, etc. Horace, Epist. 1. 18. 69: "Avoid a 
curious man; he is sure to be a gossip." Quoted also by Bacon, Adv. 
Learning I. 4. 8, and by him translated, "An inquisitive man is a 

3416. Dum sibi, etc. Ovid, Pern. Love 686: "While each one 
is satisfying himself, we are ever a credulous set." 

34 30. Mother of lies. But cf. 38 27. 

34 32. Siren's. Cf. Gosson, p. 20 : " The siren's song is the sailor's 

34 34. To ear. To plough. Alluding to Chaucer, Knights Tale 


I have, God woot, a large feeld to ere. 

35 1. In other nations. Gosson, p. 23, illustrates these words: 
" C. Marius, in the assembly of the whole Senate at Rome, in a solemn 
oration giveth an account of his bringing up : he showeth that he hath 
been taught to lie on the ground, to suffer all weathers, to lead men, 
to strike his foe, to fear nothing but an evil namej' foi; this oration 
cf. Sallust, Jugurtha £5. 

NOTES. 101 

35 4. Shady idleness. C{. Milton, Lycidas 67-8 : 

Were it not better done, as others use, 
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade? 

35 6. Banished. Gosson, p. 20 : " No marvel though Plato shut 
them out of his school, and banished them quite from his Common- 
vVealth." Cf. Milton, Areopagitica : " Plato, it man of high authority 
indeed, but least of all for his Commonwealth, in the book of his Laws, 
which no city ever yet received, fed his fancy with making many edicts 
to his airy burgomasters. . . By which laws he seems to tolerate no 
kind of learning but by unalterable decree, consisting most of practical 
traditions, to the attainment whereof a library of smaller bulk than his 
own dialogues would be abundant. And there also enacts, that no 
poet should so much as read to any private man what he had written, 
until the judges and law-keepers had seen it; but that Plato meant 
this law peculiarly tj that Commonwealth which he had imagined, and 
to no other, is evident." 

3511. Petere principium. Beg the question. For if, etc. Cf. 
13 1 ff., 22 14 ff. 

35 20. Out of earth. Cf. 14 32. 

35 21. Should be. Cf. Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar, § 328: 
" ' Should,' denoting a statement not made by the speaker. (Compare 
' soUen ' in German.) " 

35 24. Though he would. Cf Harington (Haslewood, 2. 127): 
" But poets never affirming any for true, but presenting them to us as 
fables and imitations, cannot lie though they would." 

35 28. Physicians. Cf. 38 16. 

36 1. Hardly escape. Cf. 36 23-24, and Agrippa, Vanity of the Arts 
and Sciences, ch. 6 : " Historians are at such variance among them- 
selves, delivering several tales of one and the same story, that it is 
impossible but that most of them must be the greatest liars in the 
world ! " 

36 5. Authorities. Cf. 13 29. 

36 6. Sweet Muses. Cf. Scaliger, Poetics 5. b. I : " Hence therefore 
the poets invoke the Muses, that, inspired with their rage, they may 
complete what they have taken in hand." 

36 8. Should. Cf. 19 9, 36 21. 

3611. Nathan. Cf. 25 27 ff. 

36 16. Among the beasts. Cf. 18 18. 

36 18. Upon an old door. Cf 48 11-25, and Collier, Hist. Eng. Dram. 
Poetry, 3. 375 : " The practice of exposing to the ey^s of the "audience 

102 NOTES. 

in the opening of a play where the action was laid continued down to 
the time of Davenant, and it is remarkably proved by the very first piece 
in which scenery was employed. . . It was not only the custom to 
exhibit to the eyes of the audience the place of action, but the title of 
,the play; one of the oldest instances of the kind is to be found in 
the piece last quoted (i.e. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy), which was written 
about 1588." 

36 31. yohn of the Stile, etc. " Fictitious characters made use of 
by lawyers in actions of ejectment." Cf. Wheeler's Noted Names of 

374. Reverend. Sidney, like Shakespeare, employs the two spell- 
ings, reverend and reverent. I have normalized to the first. Cf. 57 12, 
and the variants. 

37 9. Wanton sinfulness. Cf. the whole of Gosson's pamphlet. 

37 10. Abttse. See Sidney's own concessions, 45 20-27, 50 18 ff., 5119 ff. 

37 14. Cupid. Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 134): " Sith as Sir 
Philip Sidney confesseth, Cupido is crept even into the heroical poems." 

37 24. In setting forth, etc. Cf. 43 22-32. 

37 26. Scurrility. Cf. 50 18. 

3730. But that, etc. Sidney and Gosson, by their mutual conces- 
sions, approach each other very nearly at this point. See Gosson, 
p. 40 : " And as some of the players are far from abuse, so some of 
their plays are without rebuke; which are as easily remembered as 
quickly reckoned." And again, p. 65 ; " He that readeth with advice 
the books which I wrote, shall perceive that I touch but the abuses of 
all these. When we accuse the physician for killing his patient, we 
find no fault with the art itself, but with him that hath abused the 
same.'' Cf. Harington's imitation of Sidney (Haslewood, 2. 134) : "It 
may be said where any scurrility and lewdness is found, there poetry 
doth not abuse us, but writers have abused poetry." 

37 32. Eifftto-TiK^ The distinction here made is from Plato's Sophist 
235-6 (Jowett 4. 448-g) : " I think that I can discern two divisions of 
the imitative art, but I am not as yet able to see in which of them the 
desired form is to be found. 

Theatetus. Will you tell me first what are the two divisions of 
which you are speaking? 

Stranger. One is the art of likeness-making"; — generally a like- 
ness is made by producing a copy which is executed according to the 
propbrtions of the original, similar in length and breadth and depth, 
and also having colors answering to the several parts. 

Thecetetus. But is not this always the case in imitation? 

NOTES. 103 

Stranger. Xot always; in works either of sculpture or painting, 
which are of any magnitude, there is a certain degree of deception; 
for if the true proportions were given, the upper part, which is farther 
off, would appear to be out of proportion in comparison with the lower, 
which is nearer; and so our artists give up the truth in their images 
and make only the proportions which appear to be beautiful, disregard- 
ing the real ones." The first answer of the stranger defines cmaariKii, 
the second (ftavTafTTtK-fj, 

37 34. iaKTaffTiK^. Cf. fantastically, 18 24, and the last note. See 
also Puttenham, Bk. I. ch. 8 : " For commonly whoso is studious in the 
art, or shows himself excellent in it, they call him in disdain a fantas- 
tical; and a light-headed or fantastical man, by conversion, they call 
a poet." 

38 10. Army. The earliest recorded instance of this figurative use. 
38 12. That contrariwise, etc. Cf. Shak., Rom. 2.3.1 7-26 : 

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live 

But to the earth some special good doth give ; 

Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use. 

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse. 

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, 

And vice sometime's by action dignified. 

Within the infant rind of this small flower 

Poison hath residence, and medicine power ; 

For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part, 

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. 

38 2T. Fathers of lies. Cf. Gosson, p. 21 : " TuUy accustomed to 
read them with great diUgence in his youth, but, when he waxed graver 
in study, . . he accounted them the fathers of lies." See also Agrippa, 
Van. of Arts and Sciences, ch. 4: '-And thus the best and wisest of 

men have always despised poesy as the parent of lies." 

38 30. Our nation. Cf. Gosson, p. 34 : " Dion saith that English- 
men could suffer watching and labor, hunger and thirst, and bear ofi 
all storms with head and shoulders; they used slender weapons, went 
naked, and were good soldiers; they fed upon roots and barks of trees, 
they would stand up to the chin many days in marshes without victuals, 
etc. . . . But the exercise that is now among us is banqueting, play- 
ing, piping, and dancing, and all such delights as may win us to pleasure 
or rock us asleep." 

38 34. No memory, etc. Cf. 2 27 ff. 
39 1. Yet never. Cf. 45 9. 

39 3. Chain-shot. The earUest example of the word. 

104 NOTES. 

39 4. Bookishness. No earlier appearance of this word has been 

39 6. Certain Goths. The story is related by Gibbon, ch. 10: "We 
are told that in the sack of Athens the Goths had collected all the 
libraries", and were on the point of setting fire to this funeral pile of 
Grecian learning, had not one of their chiefs, of more refined policy 
than his brethren, dissuaded them from the design by the profound 
observation, that as long as the Greeks were addicted to the study of 
books they would never apply themselves to the exercise of arms. The 
sagacious counsellor (should the truth of the fact be admitted) reasoned 
like an ignorant barbarian. In the most polite and powerful nations, 
genius of every kind has displayed itself about the same period, and 
the age of science has generally been the age of military virtue and suc- 
cess." Gibbon derives it from Zonaras (i2. 635), a mediaeval Byzantine 
compiler (1081-1 118 A.D.), who in turn transcribes, with slight changes, 
an anonymous continuer of the Roman History of Die Cassius, perhaps 
of the age of Constantine. There were French (1561) and Italian 
(1564) translations of Zonaras which Sidney might have read, or he 
might have seen the account in Montaigne (1580), Bk. I. ch. 24. An 
interesting parallel is furnished by Florio's translation of this chapter of 
Montaigne. Dio (54. 17) tells of a similar reply made by the actor 
Pylades to Augustus. 

39 20. Horace. The line is adapted from Horace, Sat, i . i . 63 : 
"Jubeas miserum esse libenter " = " Cheerfully bid him go and be 
wretched," as the line was then interpreted. Sidney accordingly means ; 
" I cheerfully bid him be a fool." 

39 24. Companion of the camps. Cf. 45 10. 

39 26. Quiddity, etc. Philosophical terms. 

39 28. Turks. Cf. 4 21. 

39 33. First light. Cf 2 29. 

40 'i. Fortune. Cf. Plutarch, Fortune or Virtue of Alexander {^Mor- 
als I. 505): "To which grandeur if he arrived by the assistance ot 
Fortune, he is to be acknowledged the greater, because he made so 
glorious a use of her. So that the more any man extols his fortune, 
the more he advances his virtue, which made him worthy of such 

40 3. Did not. Had not. 

40 4. Left his schoolmaster. Plutarch, Alexander 7, speaks of Alex- 
ander's writing to Aristotle from Asia. 

40 5. Took dead Homer. Plutarch , Alexander 8 : " The Iliad he 
thought, as well as called, a portable treasure of military knowledge; 


and he had a copy corrected by Aristotle, which is called ' the casket 
copy.' Onesicritus informs us that he used to lay it under his pillow 
with his sword." 

40 6. Callisthenes. Cf. Plutarch's account in his Alexander, 53, 55 : 
" His great reputation naturally exposed him to envy; and he gave some 
room for calumny himself, by often refusing the king's invitations, and 
when he did go to his entertainments, by sitting solemn and silent; 
which showed that he could neither commend, nor was satisfied with 
what passed. . . . His death is variously related. Some say Alexander 
ordered him to be hanged; others, that he fell sick and died in chains," 

40 9. Homer had been alive. Probably referring to Cicero's state- 
ment, Arckias 10. 24 : " How many historians of his exploits is Alex- 
ander the Great said to have had with him ! and he, when standing on 
Cape Sigeum at the grave of Achilles, said, ' O happy youth, to find 
Homer as the panegyrist of your glory ! ' And he said the truth, for 
if the Iliad had not existed, the same tomb which covered his body 
would also have buried his renown." A similar account of this incident 
is given by Plutarch, Alexander 15. 

40 12. Jf Cato misliked Fidvius. Referring to Gosson, p. 21 : "Cato 
layeth it in the dish of Marcus the noble as a foul reproach, that in the 
time of his consulship he brought Ennius the poet into his province." 
Cf also Agrippa, Van. of Arts and Sciences, ch. 4 : " And Q. Fulvius 
was accused by M. Cato, for that he, going proconsul into Asia, had 
taken Ennius the poet along with him to bear him company." These 
statements are based upon Cicero, Tusc. Disp. 1.^.3: "A speech of 
Cato's shows this kind of poetry to have been in no great esteem, as 
he censures Marcus Nobilior (i.e. Fulvius) for carrying poets with him 
into his province ; for that consul, as we know, carried Ennius with him 
into ^tolia." 

40 14. Fulvius liked it. Cf. Cicero, Archias 11 . 27 : " And lately 
that great man Fulvius, who fought with the iEtolians, having Ennius 
for his companion, did not hesitate to devote the spoils of Mars to the 

40 15. Excellent Cato Uticensis. Great-grandson of Cato the Censor 
(95-46 B.C.) . For his excellence cf. Sallust, Catiline 54 : " Cato . . . 
made temperance, dignity, and, above all, austerity of behavior, his 
pursuit. He did not vie in wealth with the wealthy, nor in intrigue 
with the intriguer, but in courage with the man of action, in honor 
with the scrupulous, in self-restraint with the upright. He preferred 
to be good rather than to seem so; and thus, the less he pursued 

106 NOTES. 

renown, the more it attended him.'' And see, besides Plutarch, Calo 
the Younger, Longfellow, Translation of Dante, note on Purg. I. 31 : 
" Here, on the shores of Purgatory, his countenance is adorned with 
the light of the four stars, which are the four virtues. Justice, Prudence, 
Fortitude, and Temperance, and it is foretold of him that his garments 
will shine brightly on the last day. And here he is the symbol of 
Liberty, since for her sake to him 'not bitter was death in Utica'; 
and the meaning of Purgatory is spiritual Liberty, or freedom from sin 
through purification, ' the glorious liberty of the children of God.' " 

40 19. Misliked, etc. Cf. Plutarch, Cato the Censor 22, 23 : " When 
Cato was very far advanced in years, there arrived in Rome two ambas- 
sadors from Athens, Carneades the Academic, and Diogenes the Stoic. 
. . . Upon the arrival of these philosophers, such of the Roman youth 
as had a taste for learning went to wait on them, and heard them with 
wonder and delight. . But Cato, from the beginning, was alarmed 

at it. He no sooiier perceived this passion for the Grecian learning 
prevail, but he was afraid that the youth would turn their ambition that 
way, and prefer the glory of eloquence to that of deeds of arms. . . . 
And to dissuade his son from those studies, he told him in a louder 
tone than could be expected from a man of his age, and, as it were, in 
an oracular and prophetic way, that when the Romans came thoroughly 
to imbibe the Grecian literature, they would lose the empire of the 
world. But time has shown the vanity of that invidious assertion; for 
Rome was never at a higher pitch of greatness than when she was 
most perfect in the Grecian erudition, and most attentive to all manner 
of learning." Milton relates the same story in his Areopagitica. 

40 20. Fourscore years old. Bacon, Adv. Learning \. 2. 9, says 
threescore : " As to the judgment of Cato the Censor, he was well 
punished for his blasphemy against learning, in the same kind wherein 
he offended; for when he was past threescore years old he was taken 
with an extreme desire to go to school again, and to learn the Greek 
tongue to the end to peruse the Greek authors, which doth well dem- 
onstrate that his former censure of the Grecian learning was rather an 
affected gravity than according to the inward sense of his own opinion." 
But cf. the words put in his mouth by Cicero, Old Age 8. 26 : " Nay, 
they even learn something new; as %se see Solon in his verses boasting, 
who says that he was becoming an old man, daily learning something 
new, as I have done, who, when an old man, learned the Greek 
' language ; which too I so greedily grasped, as if I were desirous of 
satisfying a long protracted thirst." Reid and Kelsey, in their edition 
of the Cato Maior (Boston, 1885) say, p. xx : "The ancients give us 

NOTES. 107 

merely statements that he only began to learn Greek ' in his old 
age.' " 

40 21. Belike. Cf. 41 35. 

402a. Scipio Nasica. The Roman Senate, being charged by the 
Delphic oracle to select the best man of Rome to bring the statue of 
the Idsean mother from Pessinus to Rome, in 204 B.C. made their 
decision, and the choice fell upon Scipio Nasica. Cf. Livy 29. 14 : 
" Publius Scipio, son of Cneius who had fallen in Spain, a youth not 
yet of the age to be quaestor, they adjudged to be the best of the good 
men in the whole state." See Mayor's edition of Juvenal, note on 
3. 137. An anecdote illustrating the intimacy of Scipio with Ennius 
is found in Cicero, Character of the Orator 2. 68. 276. 

40 30. Sepulchre. See Cicero, Arckias 9. 22 : " Our countryman, 
Ennius, was dear to the elder Africanus; and even on the tomb of the 
Scipios his effigy is believed to be visible, carved in the marble." 

41 2. Most poetical. Cf. notes on 3 18 and 3 27, and Jowett, Plato 
3. 139 : " Why Plato, who was himself a poet, and whose dialogues are 
poems and dramas, should have been hostile to the poets as a class, 
and especially to the dramatic poets. . . ." 

Fountain. Cf. 44 13. 

41 6. Natural enemy. Cf. Plato, Republic 10. 607 (Jowett 3. 504) : 
" Let this then be our excuse for expelling poetry, that the argument 
constrained us; but let us also make an apology to her, lest she impute 
to us any harshness or want of politeness. We will tell her that there 
is an ancient quarrel between philosophy and poetry. . ." 

41 14. Force of delight. Cf. 24 22. 

41 20. Had their lives saved. Cf. Plutarch, Nicias 29 : " Some there 
were who owed their preservation to Euripides. Of all the Grecians, 
his was the muse whom the Sicilians were most in love with. From 
every stranger that landed in their island they gleaned every small 
specimen or portion of his works, and communicated it with pleasure 
to each other. It is said that on this occasion a number of Athenians, 
upon their return home, went to Euripides, and thanked him in the 
most respectful manner for their obligations to his pen; some having 
been enfranchised for teaching their masters what they remembered 
of his poems, and others having got refreshments when they were 
wandering about after the battle, for singing a few of his verses. Nor 
is this to be wondered at, since they tell us that when a ship from 
Caunus, which happened to be pursued by pirates, was going to take 
shelter in one of their ports, the Sicilians at first refused to admit her; 
upon asking the crew whether they knew any of the verses of Euripides, 

108 -NOTES. 

and being answered in the affirmative, lliey received both them and then 
vessel." See also the Prologue of Browning's Balausiion's Adventure. 

41 23. Simonides. A contemporary and rival of Pindar (556-468 
B.C.). lie resided for some time at the court of King Hiero in Sicily, 
and in the year 476 B.C. was instrumental in effecting a reconciliation 
between him and Theron. In his dialogue entitled Hiero, Xenophon 
introduces him as discussing with that monarch the advantages and 
disadvantages of kingly station. 

Pindar. In 472 he visited the court of Hiero, but the length of his 
stay is uncertain. The indirect manner in which he imparted moral 
counsels to the tyrant is illustrated in his Third Pythian Ode, 68-71 : 
" And then in a sliip would I have sailed, cleaving the Ionian sea, to 
the fountain of Arethusa, to the home of my Aitnaian [iEtnsean] friend, 
who ruleth at Syracuse, a king of good will to the citizens, not envious 
of the good, to strangers wondrous fatherly." 

41 26. Was made a slave. Cf. Mahaffy, Hist. Crk. Lit. 2. 161 : " He 
gained his first practical experience of the effects of irresponsible mon- 
archy from the elder Dionysius. Though introduced by Dion, the 
tyrant was so offended with his views, which were then probably a 
reflex of those of Socrates, that he delivered him up to the Spartan 
ambassador. Pollis, who had him sold in the market of .i^Jgina." See 
also Cicero, Rab. Postumus 9. 23 : " We have heard that that great 
man, beyond all comparison the most learned man that all Greece ever 
produced, Plato, was in the greatest danger, and was exposed to the 
most treacherous designs by the wickedness of Dionysius, the tyrant ot 
Sicily, to whom he had trusted himself. We know that Callisthenes, 
a very learned man, the companion of Alexander the Great, was slain 
by Alexander." 

41 29. One should do. Evidently referring to Scaliger, /fee/jVj 5. b. I : 
" Let him look to see what foolish and filthy tales he introduces, and 
what opinions reeking with the vice which above all others is peculiar 
to Greece he ever and anon expresses. Certainly it were worth while 
never to have read Phsdrus or the Symposium, and other monstrous 
works of this nature." 

41 35. Community of women. Cf. the admirable discussion by Jowett, 
in his translation of Plato, of which I cite a mere fragment (3. 167) : 
" What Plato had heard or seen of Sparta was applied by him in a 
mistaken way to his ideal commonwealth. He probably observed 
that both the Spartan men and women were superior in form and 
strength to the other Greeks; and this superiority he was disposed to 
attribute to the laws and customs relating to marriage." 

NOTES, 109 

+2 7. Twice two poets. These are Aratus, Cleanthes, Epimenides, 
and Menander. The first two are quoted in Acts 17. 28, the third 
Titus I. 12, and the fourth i Cor. 15. 33. The verse, "For in him we 
live, and move, and have our being," is found substantially in the 
Phenomena (cf. note on 44. 25) of Aratus, who lived in the third cen- 
tury B.C., and in the Hymn to Zeus of Cleanthes, whose hfetime fell 
somewhat later in the same century. Epimenides of Crete lived much 
earlier, in the sixth century B.C. It is to him that Paul is said by 
Chrysostom and others to refer in Titus i. 12: "One of themselves, a 
prophet of their own, said, Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, idle 
gluttons." The quotation, which forms a complete hexameter in the 
original, is said by the early commentators to have been taken from 
his poem On Oracles, which has long since perished. The gnomic 
sentence, "Evil company doth corrupt good manners," i Cor. 15. 33, 
is from the Thais of the comic dramatist Menander (342-291 B.C.). 

42 8. Watchword upon philosophy. Cf. Col. 2. 8 : " Take heed lest 
there shall be any one that maketh spoil of you through his philosophy 
and vain deceit." 

4210. Not upon poetry.- CI. Scaliger, Poetics 5. a. I : "And if he 
condemns some of their books, we are not for that reason to be deprived 
of the rest, such as he himself frequently employs to confirm the 
authority of his arguments." 

4213. Would not have, etc. Cf. Plato, Republic 3. 391 (Jowett 
3. 265) : " We will not have them teaching our youth that the gods are 
the authors of evil, and that heroes are no better than men; undoubt- 
edly these sentimen.i, as we were saying, are neither pious nor true, 
for they are at variance vrith our demonstration that evil cannot come 
from God. . . . And further they are likely to have a bad effect on 
those who hear them. . . . And therefore let us put an end to such 
tales, lest they engender laxity of morals among the young." 

42 20. Imitation. Cf. 9 12. 

42 27. Atheism. The first example of the word. 

4229. Meant not in general. Cf. Jowett, /"too 3. 146 : "Plato does 
not seriously intend to expel poetry from human life. But he feels 
strongly the unreality of poets; and he is protesting against the degen- 
eracy of them in his own day as we might protest against the want of 
serious purpose in modern poetry, against the unseemliness or extrava- 
gance of some of our novelists, against the time-serving of preachers 
or public writers, against the regardlessness of truth, which to the eye 
of the philosopher seems to characterize the greater part of the world. 
. . . For there might be a poetry which would be the hymn of divine 

110 NOTES. 

perfection, the harmony of justice and truth among men : a strain which 
should renew the youth of the world, as in primitive ages the poet was 
men's only teacher and best friend : which would find materials in the 
living present as well as in the romance of the past, and might subdue 
to the fairest forms of speech and verse the intractable materials of 
modern civilization : which might elicit the simple principles, or, as 
Plato would have called them, the essential forms of truth and good- 
ness out of the variety of opinion and the complexity of modern society : 
which would preserve all the good of each generation and leave the 
bad unsung : which should be based not on vain longings or faint 
imaginings, but on a clear insight into the nature of man. Then the 
tale of love might begin again in poetry or prose, two in one, united in 
the pursuit of knowledge, or the service of God and man; and feelings 
of love might still be the incentive to great thoughts and heroic deeds 
as in the days of Dante or Petrarch; and many types of manly and 
womanly beauty might appear among us, rising above the ordinary level 
of humanity, and many lives which were like poems be not only written 
Ijut lived among us." 

42 31. Qua authoritate, etc. Scaliger, Poetics 5. a. i : "Which 
authority (i.e. that of Plato) certain rude and barbarous persons desire 
to abuse, in order to banish poets out of the commonwealth." 

4313. Inspiring. Cf. Plato, /o» 534 (Jowett I. 248) : "For the poet 
is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him 
until he has been inspired and out of his senses, and the mind is no 
longer in him : when he has not attained to this state, he is powerless 
and is unable to utter his oracles. . . . And therefore God takes away 
the minds of poets, and uses them as his ministers, as he also uses 
diviners and holy prophets, in order that we who hear them may know 
that they speak not of themselves who utter these priceless words in a 
state of unconsciousness, but that God is the speaker, and that through 
them he is conversing with us." See also 57 23, and cf. Spenser, Shep- 
herd's Calendar, October, Argmnent : " In Cuddle is set out the perfect 
pattern of a poet, which, finding no maintenance of his state and 
studies, complaineth of the contempt of poetry, and the causes thereof; 
specially having been in all ages, and even amongst the most barbarous, 
always of singular account and honor, and being, indeed, so worthy 
and commendable an art; or rather no art, but a Divine gift and heav- 
enly instinct not to be gotten by labor and learning, but adorned with 
both, and poured into the wit by a certain ivSou(naa-/ihs and celestial 
inspiration, as the author hereof elsewhere at large discourseth in his 
book called 'The English Poet,' which book being lately come to 


my hands, I mind also, by God's grace, upon further advisement, 
to pubhsh." 

43 18. Sea of examples. CI. Shak. J/ml. 3. i. 59 : " Sea of troubles." 
AUxanders. Cf. 404 ff., and Harington (Haslewood, 2. 122): "For 
who would once dare to oppose himself against so many Alexanders, 
Caesars, Scipios, . . . that . . . have encouraged and advanced poets 
and poetry?" 

43 19. Scipios. Cf. 40 25 ff. 

43 20. Roman Socrates. Cf. Cicero, On Duties i. 26. 90: "That 
equanimity in every condition of life is a noble attribute, and that 
uniform expression of countenance and appearance which we find 
recorded of Socrates, and also of Caius Laelius." 

43 22. Made by him. Cf. Cicero, To Atticus 7. 3. 10 : "The come- 
dies of Terence are thought, on account of their elegance of diction, 
to have been written by C. Ltelius." Terence himself, in the prologue 
to the Heautontimoroumenos, says: "Then, as to a malevolent old 
poet saying that he (i.e. Terence) has suddenly applied himself to 
dramatic pursuits, relying on the genius of his friends, and not his own 
natural abilities; on that your judgment, your opinion, will prevail." 
The reference to Laelius is thought to be still more explicit in the 
prologue to the Adelphi. 

43 23. Only wise man. Cf. Plato, Apology 21 (Jowett I. 353): 
" He (i.e. Chaerephon) went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to 
tell him whether . . . there was any one wiser than I was, and the 
Pythian prophetess answered, that there was no man wiser." 

43 24. yEsop's Fables. Cf. Plato, FhcBdo 60-61 (Jowett i. 432-3), 
where Socrates says : " In the course of my life I have often had inti- 
mations in dreams ' that I should compose music' The same dream 
came to me sometimes in one form, and .sometimes in another, but 
always saying the same or nearly the same words : Compose and prac- 
tise music, said the dream. And hitherto I had imagined that this was 
only intended to exhort and encourage me in the study of philosophy, 
which has always been the pursuit of my life, and is the noblest and 
best of music. The dream was bidding me do what I was already 
doing, in the same way that the competitor in a race is bidden by the 
spectators to run when he is already running. But I was not certain 
of this, as the dream might have meant music in the popular sense of 
the word, and being under sentence of death, and the festival giving 
me a respite, I thought that I should be safer if I satisfied the scruple, 
and, in pbedience to the dream, composed a few verses before I de- 
parted. And first I made a hymn in honor of the god of the festival, 

112 NOTES. 

and then considering that a poet, if he is really to be a poet, should not 
only put together words, but should invent stories, and that I have no 
invention, I took some fables of jEsop, which I had ready at hand and 
knew, and turned them into verse." 

43 29. Teacheth the use. In his On Listening to Poetry (^Morals 
2. 42-94). 

43 32. Guards of poesy. Guard = oinamental border, ornament. 
Cf. Shak. Ado i. i. 288-9: "The body of your discourse is sometime 
guarded with fragments, and the guards are but slightly basted on." 
Plutarch is very fond of poetical quotation. 

44 4. Low-creeping. Perhaps with reference to Horace's "serpit 
humi," Art of Poetry 28. Cf. earth-creeping, 58 5, and note on hS 25. 

44 5. Not being an art of lies. Cf. 3S 21-37 7. 

44 6. Not of effemlnateness. Cf. 38 29-40 32. 

44 7. Not of abusing. Cf. 37 8-38 38. 

44 8. Not banished. Cf. 42 9-43 15. 

44 9. Engarland. Used by Sidney in Sonnet 56 of Astrophel and 

'I't 22. Musa, etc. Virgil, yEneid i. 12 : " O Muse, relate to me the 
causes, tell me in what had her will been offended? " 

44 25. David. Cf. 6 5, 9 19. Adrian. Roman emperor (76-138 
A.D.). See Capes, Age of the Antonines, p. 54: " Poet, geometer, musi- 
cian, orator, and artist, he had studied all the graces and accomplish- 
ments of liberal culture, knew something of the history and genius of 
every people, could estimate their literary or artistic skill, and admire 
the achievements of the past." And again, pp. 69-70 : " Even on his 
deathbed he could feel the poet's love for tuneful phrase, and the 
verses are still left to us which were addressed by him to his soul, 
which, pale and cold and naked, would soon have to make its way to 
regions all unknown, with none of its whilom gaiety : 

Animula, vagula, blandula, 
Hospes comesque corporis, 
Quae nunc abibis in loca. 
Pallidula, rigida, nudula, 
Neo ut soles dabis jocos." 

These lines have been translated by Byron, and loosely paraphrased by 
Pope, with the admixture of Christian sentiment. 

Sophocles. The Greek tragic poet (496-406 B.C.). Probably placed 
here because of the commands with which his fellow-citizens entrusted 
him. Cf Mahaffy, Hist. Grk. Lit. i. 280-1 ; "The Athenian public 

NOTES. 113 

were so delighted with his Antigone that they appointed him one of 
the ten generals, along with Pericles, for the subduing of Samos . . . 
He was (in 443 B.C.) one of the Hellenotamice, or administrators of the 
public treasury — a most Responsible and important post. He sided 
with the oligarchy in 41 1, if he be the Probulus (i.e. member of the 
council) then mentioned." 

Germanicus. The nephew and adopted son of the emperor Tiberius, 
and commander of an expedition against the Germans (15 B.C.-19 A.D.). 
Besides more original poems, he composed a translation of the Phm- 
nomena, a didactic poem by the Greek poet Aratus. Cruttwell, Hist. 
Rom. Lit. p. 349, calls it " elegant and faithful, and superior to Cicero's 
in poetical inspiration.'' 

44 27. Robert, King of Sicily. Robert II. of Anjou (1275-1343 
A.D.). Of him we are told by Paulus Jovius, Elogia (Basle, 1575) i 
" He bore with marvellous fortitude the death of his only son, con- 
soling himself with . . . the best literature, in which he became so 
proficient that he was wont to say that he preferred it to the possession 
of his kingdom. He was a munificent patron to the professors of the 
highest learning, and took so much pleasure in light and graceful 
poetry that he was desirous, in addition to the many other marks of 
his favor which he had previously bestowed upon Francis Petrarch, to 
confer upon him with his own hands the honor of the laureateship, the 
same which Petrarch preferred afterwards to receive at the Capitol 
in Rome.'' Cf. Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 2. 252: "Robert of 
Anjou was proud to call himself the friend of Petrarch, and Boccaccio 
found the flame of inspiration at his court." 

44 28. Francis of France. The critic Sainte Beuve says of him : 
" Fascinated by every species of noble culture of the arts and the intel- 
lect; admiring and appreciating Erasmus as well as Lionardo da 'Vinci 
and Primaticcio, and bent, as he himself was accustomed to avow, upon 
adorning with them his nation and his kingdom; a fosterer of the ver- 
nacular, by employing it in documents of state; and the founder of 
free higher education outside of the Sorbonne; he justifies, in spite 
of many errors and vagaries, the title awarded him by the gratitude of 
his contemporaries. The service he rendered consists less in this or 
that particular institution of his creation than in the spirit with which 
he was animated and which communicated itself to every one about 

King James of Scotland. Probably James I. (1394-1437), author 
of The King's Quair, the poetical disciple of Lydgate, Gower, and 
especially of Chaucer. Cf. 'Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry 3. 121 : "This 

114 NOTES. 

unfortunate monarch was educated while a prisoner in England, at the 
command of our Henry IV., and the poem was written during his 
captivity there. The Scottish historians represent him as a prodigy of 
erudition. He civilized the Scottish nation." Sidney may have derived 
his information in part from the historian Buchanan (cf. 44 33). 

With the foregoing cf. Meres (Haslewood, A. 155-6): "Among 
others in times past, poets had these favorers, Augustus, Maecenas, 
Sophocles, Germanicus, — an emperor, a nobleman, a senator, and a 
captain; so of later times poets have these patrons, — Robert, King of 
Sicily, the great King Francis of France, King James of Scotland, and 
Queen Elizabeth of England." 

44 29. Bembus. According to Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 2. 410, 
"the fullest representative of his own age of culture" (1470-1547). 
See also Symonds, 5. 264-5 • " He was untiring in his literary industry, 
unfailing in his courtesy to scholars, punctual in correspondence, and 
generous in the use he made of his considerable wealth. At Urbino, 
at Venice, at Rome, and at Padua, his study was the meeting-place of 
learned men, who found the graces of the highest aristocracy combined 
in him with genial enthusiasm for the common interests of letters." 

Bibbiena. 1470-1520. He is best remembered by his comedy, the 
Calandra, which is modelled upon the Menachmi of Plautus. 

44 30. Beaa. A famous Biblical scholar (15 19-1605). His poetry 
is not remarkable either for quantity or quality, and consists of some 
verses composed in youth, a translation of certain Psalms, and a comedy, 
all of which are now forgotten. 

Melanchthon. 1497-1560. Scaliger, Poetics 308. c. i, praises his 
poems on the eclipses of the sun and the moon. 

44 31. Fracastorius. 1483-1553. He spent the greater portion of 
his life at Verona, " enjoying high reputation as a physician, philoso- 
pher, astronomer, and poet." Symonds, Renaissance in Italy 2. 477. 

Scaliger. 1484-1558. The author of the Poetics, and other learned 
works. He also composed Latin poetry of no particular celebrity. 

44 32. Pontanus. Cf. note on 10 2. Besides the poem there men- 
tioned, Pontanus wrote pastorals, elegies, odes, etc. Symonds says of 
him (^Renaissance in Italy 5. 220) : " In Pontano, as in Poliziano, 
Latin verse lived again with new and genuine vitality." 

Muretus. A French scholar (1526-1585), who wrote hymns, besides 
certain juvenile verses. It is not a little remarkable that Sidney should 
pay him this honor, since he must have been abhorrent to all good 
Protestants as the eulogist of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. 

4433. George Buchanan. A Scotch author (1506-1582). Besides 

NOTES. lis 

other original poems, and translations from the Psalms and Euripides 
into Latin verse, he wrote two Latin tragedies, Jephthah and John ihi 
Baptist. His chief other works are a History of Scotland and a trea- 
tise on Government in Scotland, both in Latin. Of his John the Bap- 
tist there is an English translation in Peck's NcTii Memoirs of Milton. 

With the foregoing cf. Meres (Haslewood, 2. 156) : "As in former 
times two great cardinals, Bembus and Bibbiena, did countenance poets, 
so of late years two great preachers have given them their right hands 
in fellowship, Beza and Melanchthon. As the learned philosophers 
Fracastorius and Scaliger have highly prized them, so have the eloquent 
orators Pontanus and Muretus very gloriously estimated them. As 
Georgius Buchananus' Jephtha amongst all modern tragedies is able to 
abide the touch of Aristotle's precepts and Euripides' examples "... 

4434. Hospital of France. Michel de I'Hospital (1504-1573), 
Chancellor of France, the type of moderation in an age of violence and 
intolerance. His works include a number of Latin poems. He gives 
a pleasing picture of his occupations after his retirement from court, 
in a letter quoted by Villemain, Etudes d'histoire moderne, pp. 327-8 : 
"There my amusements are of a rather serious nature,.whether I hold 
in my hands the works of Xenophon, or the divine Plato pours into 
my ears the words of Socrates. I frequently amuse myself with re- 
reading the great poets, a Virgil or a Homer. I like to follow up the 
reading of a tragic poet by that of a comedy, mingling sadness and 
gaiety, sportiveness and grief. But to me there is no work comparable 
to the Holy Scriptures. There is none in which the mind reposes with 
so sweet a contentment, and in which it finds so sure a refuge from 
every ill. These are the studies in which I should like to pass all the 
remaining moments of my life." 

Than whom. Cf. Lounsbury, Hist. Eng. Lang. p. 236. 

45 5. Only. Note the position of this word. 

45 6. Hard welcome. Cf. Puttenham, Bk. I. ch. 8: "But in these 
days, although some learned princes may take delight in them, yet 
universally it is not so. For as well poets as poesy are despised, and 
the name become of honorable, infamous, subject to scorn and derision, 
and rather a reproach than a praise to any that useth it." 

45 13. Mountebanks. Cf. Sidney's letter to his brother, quoted in 
Fox Bourne, Memoir, p. 222 : " I think ere it be long, like the mounte- 
bank in Italy, we travellers shall be made sport of in comedies." 

45 16. Hath rather be. A notable example of a disputed construc- 
tion. Troubled in the net. Odyssey 8. 266-36G. 

45 22. Epaminondds. Cf. Plutarch, Political Precepts {^Morals J 

116 NOTES. 

125-6): "Epaminondas being by the Thebans through envy and in 
contempt appointed telearch, did not reject it, but said that the office 
does not show the man, but the man also the office. He brought the 
telearchate into great and venerable repute, vfhich v/as before nothing 
but a certain charge of the carrying the dung out of the narrow streets 
and lanes of the city, and turning of water courses. . . . Though he 
who in his own person manages and does many such things for himself 
may be judged mean-spirited and mechanical, yet if he does them for 
the public and for his country, he is not to be deemed sordid; but on 
the contrary, his diligence and readiness, extending even to these small 
matters, is to be esteemed greater and more highly to be valued." 

45 33. Queis, etc. Sidney makes one line out of parts of two. The 
original (Juvenal 14. 34-5) has: 

Quibus arte benigna 
Et meliore luto finxit prascordia Titan. 

The sixteenth century editions must more frequently have had gueis 
instead of qtiibus, since Montaigne (Bk. I. ch. 24) also has this reading. 
In English the passage will run : " Whose hearts the Titan has (formed 
with kindlier art, and) moulded out of better clay." The Titan is 

46 4. Paper-blurrers. Cf. 57 8. 

46 6. In despite of Pallas. Against the grain. Lat. invita Minerva, 
invito Pallade. Cf. Ovid, Fasti 3. 826 : " Nor v^ill any one be able to 
make neatly the sandals for the foot if Pallas is unpropitious, even 
though he were more skilful than Tychius ; and even if, compared with 
ancient Epeus, he should excel him in handicraft, yet if Pallas is dis- 
pleased, he will be but a bungler." See also Horace, Art of Poetry 
385 : " But you, my friend, will say and do nothing against the bent 
of your genius." Still another instance will be found in Cicero, On 
Duties I. 31. no. 

469. Myself Cf. 55 6. 

46 13. Look themselves. Note the construction. 

46 14. Unflattering glass. See note on 28 24. 

46 15. Must not be drawn. Cf. note on 13 4. 

4618. Divine gift. So Harington (Haslewood, 2. 123) : "He doth 
prove nothing more plainly than that which M. Sidney and all the 
learneder sort that have written of it do pronounce, namely, that it is 
a gift and not an art." 

46 22. Orator, etc. The orator is made, the poet is born. 

46 23. Manured. Cultivated, tilled. 

NOTES. 117 

4634. Matter . . . and words. Cf. Bacon, De Augmentis 2. 13 
{Woris 4. 315) : "Now poesy ... is taken in two senses; in respect 
of words or matter. In the first sense it is but a character of speech; 
for verse is 8nly a kind of style and a certain form of elocution, 
and has nothing to do with the matter; for both true history may be 
written in verse and feigned history in prose. But in the latter sense, 
I have set it down from the first as one of the principal branches of 
learning, and placed it by the side of history; beiiig indeed nothing 
else but an imitation of history at pleasure. . . I dismiss from the 
present discourse satires, elegies, epigrams, odes, and the like, and 
refer them to philosophy and arts of speech. And under the name of 
poesy, I treat only of feigned history." Cf. his Adv. Learning 2. 4. 1 . 

47 3. Quicquid, etc. Ovid's verse ( Tristia 4. 10. 26) is : 

Et quod tentabam dicere, versus erat, 

or, translated : " And whatever I tried to express, the same was poetry." 
Another reading, which has only a single authority in its favor, is 
conabar for tentabam. Both editions of Sidney have erit, thus chang- 
ing the preterit into a future, and one, Ponsonby, has conabor, to agree 
with the change from erat to erit. It is accordingly difficult to decide 
which tense Sidney meant to set down, especially since he is otherwise 
inexact in the quotation of this line, as in other places. The form of 
our text is that quoted by Meres (Haslewood, 2. 157). 

47 8-9. Either . . . or. Note the peculiar construction. 

47 11. Mirror of Magistrates. Cf. Brooke, iJ«f. ZzV., pp. 60-1 :" The 
Mirror of Magistrates, 1559, for which he (i.e. Sackville) wrote the 
Induction and one tale, is a poem on the model of Boccaccio's Falls 
of Princes, already imitated by Lydgate. Seven poets, along with 
Sackville, contributed tales to it, but his poem is the only one of any 
value. . . Being written in the manner and stanza of the elder poets, 
this poem has been called the transition between Lydgate and Spenser. 
But it does not truly belong to the old time; it is as modern as 

47 17. Allow. Sanction, commend. 

47 20. Not . . but. Note the peculiarity. 

47 22. In prose. Cf Plato, Republic 10. 601 (Jowett 3.496) : "And 
I think that you must know, for you have often seen what n. poor 
appearance the tales of poets make when stripped of the colors which 
music puts upon them, and recited in prose." 

47 24. Another. Adapted by Harington (Haslewood, ;s. 131) : "One 
doth, as it were, bring on another." 

118 NOTES. 

47 30. Gorboduc. Cf. Morley, First Sketch, pp. 332 ff. : " An un. 
authorised edition of it was published in 1565, as The Tragedy oj 
Gorboduc. . . . The authorised edition of it did not appear until 1571, 
and in that the name of the play appeared as Ferrex and'Porrex. The 
argument was taken from Geoffrey of Monmouth's ' History of British 
Kings,' and was chosen as a fit lesson for Englishmen in the first year 
of the reign of Elizabeth. It was a call to Englishmen to cease from 
strife among themselves, and knit themselves into one people, obedient 
to one undisputed rule. Each act is opened vpith a masque, or dumb- 
show; and as the play was modelled on the Tragedies of Seneca, there 
was at the close of every act except the last a chorus. Except for the 
choruses, Sackville and Norton used the newly-introduced blank verse 
as the measure of their tragedy. . . . Thus our first tragedy distinctly 
grew out of the life of its own time, and gave expression to much that 
lay deep in the hearts of Englishmen in the first years of Elizabeth's 
reign." For the argument of the play see Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry 
4. 256. 

4731. As. That. 

47 34. Notable morality. Cf. Warton, Hist. Eng. Poetry 4. 260 : 
" Sir Philip Sidney . . . remarks that this tragedy is full of ' notable 
moralitie.' But tragedies are not to instruct us by the intermixture of 
moral sentences, but by the force of example and the effect of the story. 
In the first act, the three counsellors are introduced debating about the 
division of the kingdom in long and elaborate speeches, which are 
replete with political advice and maxims of civil prudence. B[ut]this 
stately sort of declamation, whatever eloquence it may display, and 
whatever policy it may teach, is undramatic, unanimated, and unafTect- 
ing. Sentiment and argument will never supply the place of action 
upon the stage. . . . But we must allow, that in the strain of dialogue 
in which they are professedly written, they (i.e. the speeches) have 
uncommon merit, even without drawing an apology in their favor firom 
their antiquity; and that they contain much dignity, strength of reflec- 
tion, and good sense, couched in clear expression and polished numbers." 

48 5. For where, etc. Cf. Symonds, Shakspere's Predecessors, p. 258 : 
"These canons the Italians had already compiled from passages of 
Aristotle and of Horace, without verifying them by appeal to the Greek 
dramatic authors. They were destined to determine the practice of 
the great French writers of the seventeenth century, and to be accepted 
as incontrovertible by every European nation, until Victor Hugo with 
Hernani raised the standard of belligerent Romanticism on the stage 
of Paris." 

NOTES. 119 

48 8. Aristotle's precept. Cf. the Poetics, c\v. <,: "Tragedy seeks to 
bring the action within the compass of a single revolution of the sun, 
or to vary but slightly from that limit." See the quotation from Milton 
in the note on 50 5. 

48 9. There is . . . days. This construction is common in Shake- 
speare, as in CcES. 3. 2. 29, "There is tears for his love," or Macb. 

2. 3. 146, "There's daggers in men's smiles." 

4812. Asia. Cf. Cervantes, Don Quixote, Bk. I. ch. 48: "What 
greater folly can there be in the subject of our debate, than to see a 
child appear in swaddling-clothes in the first scene of the first act, and 
in the second a goodly aged man with a beard? . . . What shall I 
say also of their observance of the time in which are to happen the 
acts which they present, except that I have seen a comedy in which 
the first act opened in Europe, the second in Asia, the third in Africa; 
and, had there been four acts, the fourth would have ended in America, 
and the play would have travelled to all the four parts of the world." 

48 15. Telling where he is. Cf. CoUier, Hist. Eng. Dram. Poetry 

3. 375 : " Sometimes the fact appears to have been communicated in 
the prologue, and at others it was formally announced by one of the 
actors. When old Hieronimo, in Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, is about to 
present his play within a play to the King and Court, he exclaims, 
' Our scene is Rhodes.' " 

4829. Groweth a man. Whetstone had already, in his dedication 
to Promos and Cassandra (printed 1578), uttered a similar racy cen- 
sure (Hazlitt's Shak. Lib. Part II. Vol. 2, p. 204, or CoUier's Hist. Eng. 
Dram. Poetry 2. 422) : " The Englishman in this quality is most vain, 
indiscreet, and out of order : he first grounds his work on impossibili- 
ties; then in three hours runs he through the world, marries, gets chil- 
dren, makes children men, men to conquer kingdoms, murder monsters, 
and bringeth gods from heaven and fetcheth devils from hell." Cf. 
also the note on 48 12. 

48 35. Matter of two days. The next three or four lines are some- 
what obscure. The play mentioned contains in one sense matter of 
two days, inasmuch as Phaedria is sent away for that length of time; 
but he actually returns within the day, and the action is completed 
within that time.- One is tempted to believe that Sidney meant the 
Heatttontimorumenos, concerning which see Dryden, Essay of Dramatic 
Poesy (Arnold's ed., 31 16-21) : " The unity of time even Terence him- 
self, who was the best and most regular of them, has neglected. His 
Heautontimorumenos, or Self-Punisher, takes up visibly two days, says 
Scaliger, the two first acts concluding the first day, the three last the 

120 NOTES. 

day ensuing." Yet far short. We should expect 'yet not far short.' 
The time is actually not far from fifteen years. 

49 2. Played in two days. If this means that two days, or parts of 
two days, were occupied in the representation, it would seem to be an 
inaccurate statement, unless it is to be understood of the Heautontimo- 
rumenos. Cf. the note on p. 158 of the Bohn translation: "Madame 
Dacier absolutely considers it as a fact beyond all doubt that the Roman 
audience went home after the first two acts of the play, and returned 
for the representation of the third the next morning at daybreak. 
Scaliger was of the same opinion, but it is not generally entertained by 

493. And though Plautus. Possibly referring to the Captivi, in 
which some commentators have detected a violation of the unity of 
time. Between the end of the second and the beginning of the fourth 
act, one of the characters, Philocrates, " has taken ship from the coast 
of .^tolia, arrived in Elis, procured the liberation of Philopolemus, and 
returned with him, all in the space of a few hours. This, however, 
although the coast of Elis was only fifteen miles from that of vEtolia, 
is not at all consistent with probability; and the author has been much 
censured by some commentators, especially by Lessing, on account of 
his negligence. It must, however, be remembered that Plautus was 
writing for a Roman audience, the greater part of whom did not know 
whether Elis was one mile or one hundred from the coast of ^tolia." 
(Note in Bohn's translation.) Cf. also the note on SO 14. 

49 7. Laws of poesy. Cf. note on 1825. 

49 16. Pacolefs. Cf. Wheeler, Noted Names of Fiction : " A character 
in the old romance of ' Valentine and Orson,' who owned an enchanted 
steed, often alluded to by early writers." 

49 17. Nuntius. Messenger. Cf. what Moulton, Anc. Class. Drama, 
p. 145, says of the Messenger's Speech : " This is a device by whicii 
one of the incidents in the story, occurring outside the unity of place, 
and thus incapable of being acted, is instead presented in description, 
and treated with a vividness and fulness of narration that is an equiva- 
lent for realisation on the stage." 

49 20. Ab ovo. From the egg, or, more freely, from the first courst 
of the meal; in general, from the beginning. The quotation is from 
Horace, Sat. i. 3. 6. 

4923. Story. From the Hecuba of Euripides. Sidney's choice of 
this play may be accounted for by MahafFy's statement. Hist. Grk. Liu 
I. 344: "The Hecuba has always been a favorite play, and has not 
only been frequently imitated, but edited ever since Erasmus' time for 

NOTES. 121 

school use." Notwithstanding Sidney's praise, the unities are somewhat 
violated in it. Cf. Mahaffy, as above : " It treats of the climax of 
Hecuba's misfortunes, the sacrifice of Polyxena at the grave of Achilles, 
and the murder of Polydorus, her youngest son, by the Thracian host, 
Polymestor. ... It is to be noted that the scene being laid in Thrace, 
and the tomb of Achilles being in the Troad, the so-called unity of 
place is here violated, as often elsewhere in Greek tragedy. . . . The 
narrative of her (Polyxena's) death . . forms a beautiful conclusion 
to the former half of the play, which is divided, like many of Euripides', 
between two interests more or less loosely connected." 

50 5. Kings and clowns. Cf. Whetstone (as in note to 48 29) : " And 
— that which is worst — • their ground is not so unperfect as their work- 
ing indiscreet; not weighing, so the people laugh, though they laugh 
them, for their follies, to scorn; many times, to make mirth, they 
make a clown companion with a king; in their grave councils they 
allow the advice of fools; yea, they use one order of speech for all 
persons, a gross indecorum." To the same effect Milton in his preface 
to Samson Agonistes : "This is mentioned to vindicate tragedy from 
the small esteem, or rather infamy, which in the account of many it 
undergoes at this day with other common interludes; happening through 
the poet's error of intermixing comic stuff with tragic sadness and 
gravity, or introducing trivial and vulgar persons, which by all judicious 
hath been accounted absurd, and brought in without discretion, cor- 
ruptly to gratify the people. . . . The circumscription of time wherein 
the whole drama begins and ends, is, according to ancient rule and, 
best example, within the space of twenty-four hours." 

But cf. Moulton, Shak. as a Dram. Artist, pp. 219-220: "The 
institution of the court fool is eagerly utilised by Shakespeare, and is 
the source of some of his finest effects; he treats it as a sort of chronic 
Comedy, the function of which may be described as that of translating 
deep truths of human nature into the language of laughter." 

50 9. Tragi-comedy. Cf. Mahaffy, Hist. Grk. Lit. 2. 41 1 : " Greek 
tragedy, being essentially religious, became in the hands of its greatest 
masters so serious ■- thing, that the relief of humorous or low scenes 
was hardly permitted. Aristotle indeed gives us to understand in his 
sketch of its history that this was not so originally, that it arose from 
a satyric representation, of which the grotesque side was preserved in 
the satyric afterpiece, when banished from serious tragedy. This sev- 
erance was exaggerated by the French school of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, who are far more particular than the less artificial Greek masters 
in avoiding the lower side of human nature. And such, too, was the 

122 NOTES. 

opinion of Milton, but happily for us Shakespere gave the law for a 
wider conception, and since his day, even in theory, the comic or 
humorous element is admitted and even admired as a merit of contrast 
in our tragedies." Shakespeare, however, was not the first to proclaim 
this law. It was already virtually announced by Plato, Symposium 223 1 
( Jowett 2. 74) : " The chief thing which he remembered was Socrates 
compelling the other two to acknowledge that the genius of comedy 
was the same as that of tragedy, and that the true artist in tragedy was 
an artist in comedy also." The explanation of this harmony or identity 
is thus given by Everett, Poetry, Comedy, and Duty, p. 166: "The 
circumstances which suggest the comic are very naturally those which 
are, to a greater or less extent, really tragic. The tragic is, like the 
comic, simply the incongruous. . . . Thus it is that there is nothing 
tragic that may not to some persons, or to some moods, be comic. 
Take the great tragedies themselves. Take the story of CEdipus : A 
man goes forth to meet another, whom he does not know, and kills 
him; this stranger turns out to be his father. He falls in love with a 
woman that he meets, and marries her ; she proves to be his mother. 
Shall we have out of all this a tragedy or a comedy? This depends 
upon the taste of the author, or of the audience for whom he writes." 

The historical process is thus commented upon by Moulton, Shak. 
as a Dram. Artist, pp. 292-3: "The exclusive and uncompromising 
spirit of antiquity carried caste into art itself, and their Tragedy and 
Comedy were kept rigidly separate, and indeed were connected with 
different rituals. The spirit of modern life is marked by its compre- 
hensiveness and reconciliation of opposites; and nothing is more im- 
portant in dramatic history than the way in which Shakespeare and his 
contemporaries created a new departure in art, by seizing upon the 
rude jumble of sport and earnest which the mob loved, and converting 
it into a source of stirring passion-effects. For a new faculty of mental 
grasp is generated by this harmony of tones in the English Drama. If 
the artist introduces every tone into the story he thereby gets hold 
of every tone in the spectators' emotional nature. . . . Moreover it 
brings the world of fiction nearer to the world of nature, which has 
never yet evolved an experience in which brightness was dissevered 
from gloom." 

Lope de Vega had already anticipated the latter part of Moulton's 
justification. Lessing says, Dramatic Notes, No. 69 (Bohn's tr., p. 
394) : " Although Lope de Vega is regarded as the creator of the 
Spanish theatre, it \\as not he who introdu ;e(l the hybrid tone. The 
people were already so accustomed to it, that he had to assume it 

NOTES. 123 

against his will. In his didactic poem concerning the art of making 
new comedies, he greatly laments the fact." The words of Lope de 
Vega, as quoted by Lessing (p. 395), are as follows : " It is therefore 
somewhat difficult to me to approve our fashion. But since we in 
Spain do so far diverge from art, the learned must keep silent on this 
point. It is true that the tragic fused with the comic, Seneca mingled 
with Terence, produces no less a monster than was Pasiphae's ' Mino- 
taur.' But this abnormity pleases, people will not see any other plays 
but such as are half serious, half ludicrous, nature herself teaches this 
variety, from which she borrows part of her beauty." 

A wise caveat is uttered by Shelley, Defense of Poetry : " The mod- 
ern practice of blending comedy with tragedy, though liable to great 
abuse in point of practice, is undoubtedly an extension of the dramatic 
circle; but the comedy should be as in King Lear, universal, ideal, and 
sublime." Cf. also Ulrici, Shakespeare's Dram. Art I. 368-370; Schle- 
gel's Dram. Lit., pp. 369-371; Hamlet 2. 2. 415-420. 

50 10. Apuleius. A writer of the second century A.D. His Meta- 
morphoses, or Golden Ass, is here referred to. See Bohn's translation, 
or Dunlop, History of Fiction. 

50 14. Amphytrio. Cf. the prologue to this play : " I'll tell the sub- 
ject of this tragedy. Why do you contract your brows? . . . This 
same, if you wish it, from a tragedy I'll make to be a comedy, with all 
the lines the same. . . . I'll make this to be a mixture — a tragi- 
comedy. For me to make it entirely to be a comedy, where kings and 
gods appear, I do not deem right. What then? Since here the servant 
has a part as well, just as I said, I'll make it to be a tragicomedy." 

5015. Daintily. Almost = rarely. Cf. S3 33. Hornpipes and funerals. 
Cf. Shakespeare, Hml. 1. 2. 12-13 : 

With mirth in fimeral and with dirge in marriage, 
In equal scale weighing delight and dole. 

50 20. Loud laughter. Cf. Hml. 3. 2. 42-8 : " And let those that 
play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there 
be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren 
spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary ques- 
tion of the play be then to be considered." 

51 7. Against the bias. A figure taken from the game of bowls (cf 
Phil. Sac. Eng. Diet. s.v. Mas'). See Shak. Shr. 4. 5. 24-5 : 

Well forward, forward ! thus the bowl should run. 
And not unluckily against the bias. 

124 NOTES. 

Also Rich. II. 3. 4. 4-5 : 

'Twill make rtie think the world is full of rubs, 
And that my fortune runs against the bias. 

51 11. Alexander's picture. Cf. Plutarch, Alexander 4 : " The statues 
of Alexander that most resembled him were those of Lysippus, who 
alone had his permission to represent him in marble. The turn of his 
head, which leaned a little to one side, and the quickness of his. eye, 
in which many of his friends and successors most affected to imitate 
him, were best hit off by that artist. Apelles painted him in the 
character of Jupiter armed with thunder, but did not succeed as to his 
complexion. He overcharged the coloring, and made his skin too 
brown ; whereas he was fair, with a tinge of red in his face and upon 
his breast." 

51 13. Hercules. Millin, Mythologische Gallerie, No. 454 (2d edy 
Berlin 1836), thus describes the picture to which Sidney may refer, 
though it must be remembered that he had never visited Rome : 
" Hercules is represented in an ancient mosaic of the Capitoline 
Museum at Rome as naked from his waist up, the lower part of his 
body being clothed in the attire of a woman. Into the waist of the 
dress is stuck a distaff, from which he is pulling the thread with one 
hand, while the other is engaged in twirling the spindle. His coun- 
tenance is sorrowful and downcast. Beside him are his shield and 
club, while on the ground near by lie an overturned vase, a thyrsus, 
and bunches of grapes, symboUcal of the Bacchic orgies in which he has 
been indulging with Omphale. Two Cupids, one of whom is crowned 
with a chaplet of oak-leaves, are playing with a fettered lion, while a 
third is playing on a Pan's-pipe." See also the illustration of the 
Farnese group at Naples in Mrs. Clement, Handbook Legend, and Myth. 
Art, p. 456. Cf. Ovid, Fast. 2. 304 ff. ; Her. 9. 53 ft. 

51 18. Scornfulness. Used in the passive rather than the active 
sense, and hence nearly = disgracefulness. Cf. 51 20, and Shakespeare, 
Lucrece 520, " The scornful mark of every open eye." See also Abbott's 
Shak. Gram. § 3. 

51 23. Aristotle. See his Ethics, 4. 9. 82 (Williams' tr., p. 113): 
"The witty man will not indulge in every kind of ridicule. For all ridi- 
cule is a species of abuse, and legislators, inasmuch as they forbid cer- 
tain forms of abuse, ought perhaps also to have forbidden certain forms 
of ridicule. And the man of culture, who is liberally-minded, will bear 
himself according to these rules, and be, as it were, a law unto himself. 
Such then is the man who observes the correct mean, — whether it is 


tact which we are to say that he has, or wit : whereas the buffoon can 
never resist the ridiculous, and, provided only that he can raise a laugh, 
will spare neither himself nor anyone else, and will say things which 
no gentleman would ever say, and sometimes even things to which no 
gentleman would submit to listen." 

51 28. Jest at strangers. As, for example, in Shakespeare's Merry 
Wives of Windsor. 

5131. Nil habet, etc. From Juvenal, Sat. 3. 152-3: "Poverty, 
bitter though it be, has no sharper pang than this, that it makes men 

51 34. Thraso. A boastful captain in The Eunuch of Terence. 

Self-wise-seeming schoolmaster. Perhaps Sidney has in mind Mas- 
ter Rhombus, a character in his own masque. The Lady of May. 
Another example would be Holofemes, in Love's Labor's Lost. 

52 1. Traveller. Cf. Shakespeare,^. K Z. 4. 1.33-38: "Farewell, 
Monsieur Traveller : look you lisp and wear strange suits, disable all 
the benefits of your own country, be out of love with your nativity and 
almost chide God for making you that countenance you are, or I will 
scarce think you have swam in a gondola." 

52 4. Buchanan, Cf. 44 33. See the Diet. Nat. Biog, under his 
name : " In the ' Baptistes ' especially the virtue of liberty, the fear of 
God rather than of man, and the infamy of the tyrant, are the themes." 

52 13. So good minds. Sidney, after writing the lyrics of his Astrophel 
and Stella, had " so good mind " given him, if we may judge from his 
noble sonnet : 

Leave me, O Love, wliich reachest but to dust. 
And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things ; 
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust ; 
What ever fades, but fading pleasure brings. 
Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might 
To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be, 
■ Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light 
That doth both shine and give us sight to see. 
O take fast hold ; let that light be thy guide 
In this small course which birth draws out to death ; 
And think how evil becometh him to slide, 
Who seeketh heaven, and comes of heavenly breath. 
Then farewell, world ; thy uttermost I see ; 
Eternal Love, maintain Thy life in me. 
Splendidis longiim valedico nugis. 
[I bid a long farewell to splendid toys.] 

126 NOTES. 

Boccaccio ifie Genealogia Deorum, p. 252) extols Petrarch's 
Eclogues for celebrating the praises of the true God. 

52 21. Banner. Cf. Song of Solomon 2. 4: "His banner over me 
was love." Unresistible. Irresistible. 

52 26. North-west and by south. Cf. Shakespeare, ffml. 2. 2. 396-7 : 
" I am but mad north-north-west : when the wind is southerly I know 
a hawk from a handsaw." 

52 29. Energia. This is the Latinized form of the Greek energeia. 
Cf. Quintilian, 8. 3. 89; Aristotle, Rhet. 3. II. Apparently the word 
had not yet become Anglicized. Energy does not occur in Shake- 

52 32. Material. Cf. 46 34. 

52 34. . Well worse, etc. Sidney is castigating Gosson, though he 
no doubt had others in mind also. 

52 35. Matron eloquence. He is here ringing the changes, in Gosson's 
own style, upon the latter's words, School of Abuse, -p. 20 : " Pull off 
the vizard that poets mask in . . . you shall perceive their sharp 
sayings to be placed as . . . chaste matrons' apparel on common 

53 4. Coursing of a letter. Cf. Shak., LLL. 4. i.. 56 : "I will some- 
thing affect the letter, for it argues facility." 

53 5-6. Dictionary . . .flowers. Cf. Sonnet 15 of Astrophel and 
Stella : 

You that do search for every purling spring 
Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows, 
And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows 
Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring ; 
Ye that do dictionary's method bring 
Into your rimes, running in rattling rows. 

Cf. also Sonnet 3 : 

Or Pindar's apes flaunt in their phrases fine, 
Enameling their pride with flowers of gold. 

53 7 ff. But I would, etc. Sidney is still ridiculing Gosson, and in 
this sentence apparently travestying his style. Gosson was at once 
or in succession versifier, prose-printer, scholar, and preacher, and 
obnoxious to Sidney. For proof of the latter statement part of a letter 
from Spenser to Gabriel Harvey may be quoted, bearing date of October 
16, 1579: "New books I hear of none, but only of one that, writing a 
certain book called The School of Abuse, and dedicating it to Master 
Sidney, was for his labor scorned, — if at least it be in the goodness of 

NOTES. 127 

that nature to scorn. Such folly is it, not to regard aforehand the 
inclination and quality of him to whom we dedicate our books." This 
letter may be found in Grosart's ed. of Spenser, 9. 261-271. 

53 14. Nizolian. Adjective formed from the name of the Italian 
lexicographer Nizzoli, or, in Latinized form, Nizolius (i 498-1 566), 
whose Ciceronian lexicon was published at Basle about 1530, and has 
been frequently reprinted. 

S3 U. Keep Nizolian paper-books. As Speron Sperone (i 500-1 588) 
is related to have done. See his own account in Symonds, Renaissance 
in Italy 5. 254 : " Using the greatest diligence, I composed a rhyming 
dictionary or vocabulary of Italian phrases, in the which I classed by 
the alphabet every word those two authors had used ; moreover I col- 
lected in another book their divers ways of describing things, as day, 
night, anger, peace, hate, love, fear, hope, beauty, in such wise that not 
a single word or thought came from me which had not its precedent in 
their sonnets and novels." 

S3 16. Devour. Cf. Du Bellay, Defense and Illustration of the French 
Tongue (a.d. 1549), Bk. I. ch. 7: "By what means then have the 
Romans been able so to enrich their language as to make it almost 
equal to the Greek? By imitating the best Greek authors, transforming 
themselves into them, devouring them, and ■ after having thoroughly 
digested them, converting them into blood and nutriment." 

S3 17. Sugar. Cf. Shakespeare's A. Y. Z. 3. 3. 31 : "To have honey 
a sauce to sugar." 

53 24. Vivit, etc. Sidney apparently quoted from memory (see the 
Variants). I have restored the true reading of Cicero, Catiline I. 2: 
" He lives. Lives? ay, he comes even into the senate," etc. 

53 30. Too much choler. I suspect that Sidney here intends a pun 
upon choler and color. Shakespeare frequently plays tricks with the 
word choler. If my supposition is correct, Sidney uses color in the 
sense of figure of speech, rhetorical ornament, artifice, as in Chaucer, 
Prologue of the Franklin's Tale : 

^ Colours ne knowe I non, withouten drede, 
But swiche colours as growen in the mede, 
Or elles swiche as men dye with or peynte. 
Colours of rethoryke been to queynte. 

If this surmise is correct, we must understand: "When it were too 
highly rhetorical to simulate anger." 

53 31. Similiter cadences. A partial Anglicization of Quintilian's 
cadentia similiter (9. 4. 42), a translation of the Greek rhetorical term 

128 NOTES. 

6tj.oi.6i!TaTa, which is allied to, and frequently identical with, the simi- 
liter desinentia or dfioioTeKeuTa, which we call ' rime.' An example 
occurs in Cicero, Quintim 23. 75 : " Ut, si veritatem volent retinere, 
gravitatem possint obtinere." Another example may be taken from 
Apuleius, Flor. 21 : " Camporum rivos et coUium clivos." The use of 
this figure in prose was censured by the best critics of antiquity, as by 
Quintilian in the passage cited, though it is allowed under certain cir- 
cumstances. Cicero mentions it, Character of the Orator 3. 54. 206 : 
" The use of words, also, which end similarly, or have similar cadences; 
or which balance .one another, or which correspond to one another." 
Cf. also his Orator 34. 135, and De Mille, Rhetoric, § 264. With 
respect to the employment of these figures by Demosthenes, my col- 
league. Professor Goodell, kindly gives me this statement : " It is safe 
to say that both figures occur so seldom that when one is used it pro- 
duces, as in 6. 21, all the effect of which such a figure is capable." 
That in 6. 21 (Second Philippic) is as follows: ou KparriffevTes jiivov 
aXKh. Kol irpodoOei/Tes iir' aWitKoiV KaX Trpadetfres- 

54 3. Seeming fineness. Cf. Bacon, De Aiigmentis, Bk. VII. ch. i: 
" Seneca says well, ' Eloquence is injurious to those whom it inspires 
with a fondness for itself, and not for the subject ' ; for writings should 
be such as should make men in love with the lesson, and not with the 

54 5. Similitudes. Cf. Astrophel and Stella, 3. 7-8 : 

Or with strange similes enrich each line, 
Of herbs or beasts which Ind or Afric hold. 

5412. Most tedious prattling. Hinting again at Gosson; cf. his 
School of Abuse throughout. A single specimen may answer : " The 
fish remora hath a small body, and great force to stay ships against 
wind and tide; ichneumon, a little worm, overcomes the elephant; the 
viper slays the bull, the weasel the cockatrice ; and the weakest wasp 
stingeth the stoutest man of war." And these are just one-third of the 
number of similes employed to illustrate the truth that small things are 
capable of producing great results. Bacon deplores the perpetuation 
of errors in natural history through this means (^Adv. Learning 2. i. 3.) : 
" If an untruth in nature be once on foot, . . . what by reason of the 
use of the opinion in similitudes and ornaments of speech, it is never 
called down." Drayton says that Sidney 

did first reduce 
Our tongue from Lyly's writing, then in use, — 
Talking of stones, stars, plants, of fishes, flies, 
Playing with words and idle similes. 

NOTES. 129 

54 16. Antonius. 143-87 B.C. 

5417. Crasstts. 140-gi B.C. 

5418. Pretended. Cf. Cicero, Character of the Orator -i. 1.4: "But 
there was such peculiarity in each, that Crassus desired not so much 
to be thought unlearned as to hold learning in contempt, and to prefer, 
on every subject, the understanding of our countrymen to that of the 
Greeks; while Antonius thought that his oratory would be better 
received by the Roman people if he were believed to have had no 
learning at all." Quintilian, 2. 17. 6, calls Antonius "dissimulator 

54 19. Because. In order that. See the peculiar uses in 48 3, 53 21. 
54 21. Credit. Aristotle, Rhet. 2. i: "It is a highly important 

element of proof that the speaker should enjoy the credit of a certain 
character, and should be supposed by his audience to stand in a certain 
relation to themselves." Persuasion. Aristotle, ^/4^/. i. 2: "Rhetoric 
may be defined as a faculty of discovering all the possible means of 
persuasion in any subject." 

54 32. Art. The jingle on this word is perhaps intended as ridicule 
of the Euphuists. The modern fashion was originated, or at least 
reinforced, by the Spaniards (see Landmann, Der Euphuismus, Giessen 
1881), and accordingly we find Cervantes ridiculing it in Don Quixote. 
In ch. I (Duffield's tr.) we have : " The reason of the unreason which 
is done to my reason in such manner enfeebles my reason that with 
reason I lament your beauty." But such collocations, which are often 
adduced as examples of barbarism in language, are recommended to 
the world by the example of Cicero. Thus, On Friendship i. 5 : 
" But as then I, an old man, wrote to you, who are an old man, on the 
subject of old age ; so in this book I myself, a most sincere friend, have 
written to a friend on the subject of friendship"; this is still more 
striking in the original : " Sed ut tum ad senem senex de senectute, sic 
hoc libro ad amicum amicissimus scripsi de amicitia." Cf. also Limits 
of Good and Evil 5. 6. 16, but especially Character of an Orator i. 41. 
186 : " For nothing can be reduced into a science unless he who under- 
stands the matters of which he would form a science has previously 
gained such knowledge as to enable him to constitute a science out 
of subjects in which there has never yet been any science." If for 
' science ' we substitute ' art,' the tone of the original will be more 
accurately reproduced, since this is the term actually employed by 
Cicero. If Sidney is not here indulging in parody, he probably is 
modeling his sentence on that of Cicero last quoted. 

55 10. Matter and manner. Cf. 4634. 

130 NOTES. 

55 95. Compositions. Cf . S 2, note. Sidney employs them not only 
in his more ornate prose, but in this, a comparatively sober style. 
Among the more noticeable, because the more poetical, of such epithets 
are : death-bringing 9 32, dull-making 58 4, earth-creeping 58 5, fine- 
witted 14 13, heart-ravishing 5 16, honey-flowing 52 34, ink-wasting 57 8, 
low-creeping 44 4, never-leaving 9 33, old-aged 14 12, self-devouring 
17 4, soon-repenting 17 3, sweet-smelling 8 1, through-beholding 32 19, 
through-searching 18 3, well-accorded 29 15, well-enchanting 23 24 (cf. 
well-raised 50 22, well-sounding 47 32, well-waiting 21 10, well-weighed 
563), winter-starved 53 6, wry-transformed 51 34. Many of these seem 
to be translated directly from Latin or Greek, rather than borrowed 
from the French. Thus, death-bringing = mortifer (used by Cicero as 
well as Virgil) ; earth- creeping, low-creeping = xajua'TuTr^J, xafuu-neTiis; 
honey-flowing = mellifluous, fie\tyripvs, /ieKiy^aacos, /leKippuros, etc. 
That Sidney was capable of thus translating is proved by his coinage 
of Greek compounds (cf. 22 18, 32 14) . Other compounds used in the 
Defense are : after-livers 27 9 (after-thinker used by Grote), before-time 
38 33, best-measured 33 21, far-fet 25 11, 53 2, fore-backwardly 46 30, 
fore-conceit 8 15, good-fellow 24 33, high(est)-flying 5 35, 4624, light- 
giver 2 22, many-fashioned 42 18, many-formed 12 8, new-budding 52 19, 
often-assaulted 38 17, paper-blurrers 46 4, poet-apes 57 6, poet-haters 
32 14, poet-whippers 31 12, school-art 41 10, school-name 24 29, small- 
learned 54 28, virtue-breeding 57 1, war-stratagem 20 31. Those in -like 
are : ass-like 43 9, courtesan-like 53 1, learner-like 1 11, man-like 35 3, 
much-like 20 19, planet-like 58 5, soldier-like 29 28. Compositions of 
three words are: self-wise-seeming 5134, too-much-loved 82. With 
respect to the employment of compound epithets, there has been and 
is much diversity of taste and practice. Aristotle condemns it, Rhet. 
3. 3 : " Faults of taste occur in four points of style. Firstly, in the use 
of compound words, such as Lycophron's ' many-visaged heaven,' ' vast- 
crested earth,' and ' narrow-passaged strand.' . . . There are instances 
too in Alcidamos, e.g. . . . ' he thought their zeal would prove end- 
executing,' . . . or 'steel-gray the ocean's basement '; for all these are 
terms which, as being compound, have a certain poetical character." 
Yet this principle has been frequently disregarded in ornate English 
prose, especially when impassioned. Take, for example, such a sen- 
tence from Ruskin as this : " The low bronzed gleaming of sea-rusted 
armor shot angrily under their blood-red mantle-folds " {Mod. Paint. 
Part IX. ch. 9). Or this (Part VI. ch. 10) : "To them, slow-fingered, 
constant-hearted, is entrusted the weaving of the dark, eternal tapes- 
tries of the hills; to them, slow-pencilled, iris-dyed, the tender framing 

NOTES. 131 

of their endless imagery." And I open the last number of Harper's 
Magazine (March, 1890J to find Dr. Charles Waldstein, in a paper on 
The Restored Head of Iris, expressing himself thus: "There may be 
more true life in stone than in the sound of the waving reeds, and the 
shout of dying men, when heard re-echoing through the riotous brain 
of truth-ignoring posterity." If these are examples of good English 
prose, Sidney's use of compounds may well be pardoned, if not 
applauded. But on this supposition, what shall we say to the authority 
of Aristotle and the views held by many modern rhetoricians and 
stylists? With respect to compound epithets in general, and especially 
in poetry, they have been rare when Latin influence has been in the 
ascendant, and have multiplied under the stimulus of a revived Teu- 
tonism or Hellenism. The oldest English and modern German are 
here at one with the flexible Greek, and antagonistic to the more pro- 
saic Latin. Chaucer has but few compounds; Cynewulf, Chapman, and 
Tennyson have many. See Coleridge's remarks on the subject in his 
Biograpkia Literaria, ch. I. 

55 28. Now of ■versifying, etc. For the attempt to revive classical 
metres in English, see Church, Spenser, pp. 18-28. 

56 9. For the ancient. Sidney seems not to have emancipated him- 
self from the notion that the ancient metres could be reproduced in 
Ihe modern languages by means of quantity, as well as imitated by 
means of accent. 

56 17. Rime. Here apparently = (accentual) rhythm, metre, as in 
-Minsheu's Guide into the Tongues (London, 1627). In 56 23, "the 
very rime itself," the modern meaning is resumed (cf. SS 33, 563). See 
also Webbe's Discourse of English Poetry (Haslewood, 2. 55-6) : 
"The falling out of verses together in one like sound is commonly 
called in English, rime, taken from the Greek word ^v9/i6s, which 
surely in my judgment is very abusively applied to such a sense. . . . 
For rime is properly the just proportion of a clause or sentence, whether 
it be in prose or metre, aptly comprised together, . . and is proper 
not only to poets, but also to readers, orators, pleaders, or any which 
are to pronounce or speak anything in public audience. There be 
three special notes necessary to be observed in the framing of our 
accustomed English rime. The first is that one metre or verse be 
answerable to another, in equal number of feet or syllables, or propor- 
tionable to the tune whereby it is to be read or measured. The second, 
to place the words in such sort as none of them be wrested contrary to 
the natural inclination or affectation of the same, or, more truly, the true 
quantity thereof. The third, to make them fall together mutually in 

132 NOTES. 

rime, that is, in words of like sound, but so as the words be not dis- 
ordered for the rime's salce, nor the sense hindered." 

56 19. Observe the accent. Cf Daniel, Defense of Rime (Haslewood, 
2. 198) : " And though it doth not strictly observe long and short sylla- 
bles, yet it most religiously respects the accent; and as the short and 
the long make number, so the acute and grave accent yield harmony — 
and harmony is likewise number; so that the English verse then hath 
number, measure, and harmony in the best proportion of music, which, 
being more certain and more resounding, works that effect of motion 
with as happy success as either the Greek or Latin.'' 

57 1. So that, etc. Cf. 31 30-32. 

57 3. Since the blames, etc. Cf. 44 3-8. 

57 4. Since the cause, etc. Cf. 44 14-53 6. 

57 6. Since, lastly, etc. Cf. 55 10-56 35. 

57 12. Rimer. Cf. Shah. Ant. $. 2. 21^-6: 

Scald rimers 
Ballad us out of tune. 

Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 123) : "The common sort, that . . . 
rather in scorn than in praise bestow the name of a poet on every base 
rimer and ballad-maker." Cf. Egger, Hellenisme i. 318, 357. 

57 15. That no, etc. Cf. Scaliger, Poetics 104. a. 2 : " By none of 
the precepts of the philosophers can you become better or more cour- 
teous than from the reading of Virgil." 

57 17. Clauserus. Conrad C. Clauser (ca. 1520-1611). A German 
scholar. His edition of Cornutus and Palsephatus appeared at Basle in 


57 18. Cornutus. A Stoic, the teacher of Persius, the Roman satirist, 
honored and beloved by him, but banished by Nero on account of his 
upright life. 

57 22. Mysteries. Cf. Harington (Haslewood, 2. 127-8): "The 
ancient poets have indeed wrapped as it were in their writings divers 
and sundry meanings, which they call the senses or mysteries thereof. 
. . . The men of greatest learning and highest wit in the ancient 
times did of purpose conceal these deep mysteries of learning, and as 
it were cover them with the veil of fables and verse for sundry causes. 
One cause was that they might not be rashly abused by profane wits." 

57 24. Landino. A Florentine humanist (1424-1504). Commen- 
tator on Dante, Horace, and Virgil, translator of Pliny, lecturer on 
Petrarch, and author of the Camaldolese Discussions, in which the 
active and the contemplative life are compared. Cf. Symonds, Renais- 
sance in Italy 2. 338 ff. 

NOISES. 133 

57 25. Divine fury. Cf. 43 14. 

57 3a. Libertino patre natus. From Horace, Sat. i. 6. 6: "The 
son of a freedraan." 

57 33. Herculea proles. Professor Gildersleeve (Am. J. Phil. 12. 
123) refers to Ovid, Fast. ■>. 237. 

57 34. Si quid, etc. Virgil, jSneid 9. 446 : " If aught my verse 
can do." 

58 4. Cataract of Nilus. Cf. Cicero, Vision of Scipio : " The ears 
of mankind, filled with these sounds (i.e. the music of the .spheres), 
have become deaf, for of all your senses it is the most blunted. Thus 
the people who live near the place where the Nile rushes down from 
very high mountains to the parts which are called Catadupa are desti- 
tute of the sense of hearing, by reason of the greatness of the noise." 
Montaigne tells the story, Bk. I. ch. 22. 

58 8. Mome. Dolt, blockhead. Cf. Shak., £r;-. 3. 1.32. Momus. 
The ancient personification of censure and mockery. 

5810. Midas. Cf Ovid, J/^to». 11. 146-193. Bubonax. Probably 
for Bupalus. Cf. Pliny, Nat. Hist. 36. 12 : " Bupalus and Athenis were 
very celebrated in their art (i.e. sculpture), and were contemporary 
with the poet Hipponax, who certainly lived in the sixtieth Olympiad. 
. . . Hipponax was remarkably ugly, and the two artists, by way of 
a joke, exposed his portrait to the ridicule of the public. The indig- 
nation of Hipponax being aroused by this act, he directed against them 
the bitterness of his poems to such effect that, according to some 
writers, they hanged themselves in despair; but this opinion is false." 
We have seen that Sidney often misquotes, whether intentionally or 
otherwise. Here he has apparently confused the two names Bupalus 
and Hipponax, 'and thus blended them into the one, Bubonax. 

58 12. In Ireland. Cf. Shak. A. Y. L. 3. 2. 186 : " I was never 
so berimed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat." Also 
Ben Jonson, Apology of Poetaster : 

Or I could do worse, 
Armed with Archilochus' fury, with iambics 
Should make the desperate lashers hang themselves. 
Rime them to death, as they do Irish rats 
In drumming tunes. 

Add Mallory's note (Vale Studies in English 27. 137). 


The following variants are based upon a collation of the reprints by 
Arber and Fliigel, which are presumed to be literal transcripts of the 
editions printed in 1595 by Olney and Ponsonby respectively. How 
far these do actually represent the two earliest texts I am in no position 
to state, but the errors, if any, must be few and unimportant. Except 
for the rejection of his as tlje possessive sign of the noun, I have rarely 
ventured, in the construction of the text, to reject the authority of both 
the early copies. These instances will all be found recorded in their 
proper places, and are mostly confined to cases where the retention of 
the older forms would have occasioned a manifest transgression of 
grammatical concord, or where a form, like Pindarus, 41 23, would have 
constituted a noticeable exception. 

It must be understood that no attempt has been made to note mere 
differences of spelling and punctuation. This would have been imprac- 
ticable without greatly increasing the bulk of the volume, and would 
have served no useful purpose that could not be quite as readily served 
by consulting the reprints which I have used. 


Edward Woaon.V. E.W. 


as in, P. as. 


the. 0. a. 


masks. P. mask. 


be. 0. are. 

3 24. 

hidden. O. hid. 


Pugliano's. O.Puglianohis. 

3 31. 

standeth. P. stands. 

2 8. 

since. 0. sith (and always. 

3 32. 

feigneth. P. feigns. 

except 23.7). 

3 32. 

to speak. P. speak. 


latter. P. later. 

4 3. 

knoweth. P. knows. 


inveigh. P. envey. 


the. 0. omits. 

2 23. 

by. P. omits. 

4 10. 

stole. P. stale. 

2 24-26. they now. P. you. 


goeth. P. goes. 

2 28. 

her. P. his. 

4 27. 

areytos. P. arentos. 

2 29. 

Hesiod. 0. Hesiodus. 

4 32. 

exercise. 0. exercises. 

2 34. 

to their. P. to the. 


any. P. any of. 

2 35. 

may. P. nay. 

5 22. 

making. P, a^s it fe re 

3 10. 

Boccace. P. Bocace. 

ported by many. 



5 26. although. O. which al- 

527. that. P. omits. 

5 33. the. P. by the. 

63. further. P. farther. 

64. vates. P. vatis. 
67. of. O. omits. 
620. fear. O. fear me. 

6 28. called. P. named. 

6 28. iroHjT^i/. O. a poet. 
630. iroteii'. O. poiein. 
635. any. O. my. 

7 1. unto. O. to. 

76. set. O. setteth. 

7 7. afa. P. doth. 

79. musician. P. musicians. 

7 12. «»«/ passions. P. or pas- 

728. into, O. omits. 

7 34. within. O. only within. 

S 7. cunning. P. comming. 

813. aKy. P. every. 

8 14. faf.4. O. the. 
818. hath. P. had. 

832. far. P. omits. 

833. argument. P. arguments. 
97. i54« more. O. more. 

913. to. P. the. 

9 13. /il/iTiiris. O. mimesis. 

9 17. general. O. several. 

919. inconceivable. P. uncon- 

923. Franciscus. P. F. 

9 28. Greeks. P. Greek. 

929. James'. P. Paul's. O. 
James his. 

935. and. P. omits. 

103. judgment, ©.judgments. 

10 7. free. O. omits. 

11 5. Jor^ of verse. O. sorts of 

11 18. wrote. O. writ. 

12 7. ^/ay. O. clayey. 
12 8. tf/. O. of the. 
12 17. ^y. P- omits. 

12 21. »Wo. P. in. 
12 26. each. P. omits. 
12 28. called. P. omits. 
12 28. apxiTfKToviK'fi. O. arki- 

12 33. further. O. farther. 

13 5. poet is worthy to have it 
before any. O. poet's nobleness by 
setting him before his. 

13 6. as. P. omits. 
13 7. thinketh. P. thinks. 
13 23. contain. O. containeth. 
P. contains. 

13 24. extendeth. P. extends. 
13 27. giveth. P. gives. 
13 31. of. P. omits. 
13 33. thousand. P. looo. 
13 35. goeth. P. goes. 

13 Sb. runneth. P. runs. 

14 3. virtuous. P. virtue's. 

14 4^5. testis . . vitce. O. lux 
vitse, temporum magistra, vita me- 

14 17. confirming. O. confer- 

14 18. by story. P. by stories. 

14 21. maketh. P. makes. 

15 2. and Justice. P. omits. 
15 2. seeketh. P. seeks. 

15 12. in that. P. in the. 

15 18. arguments. O. argument. 

15 33. in. P. by. 

16 8. an. O. the. 

16 11. conceit. O. conceits. 
1614. that. O. the. 
16 17. definitions. O. definition. 
16 17. virtues or. O. virtue. 

16 28. said. O. P. say. Ed. of 
1598, said. 

17 7. Gnatho. O. P. Gnato. 
17 10. states. O. seats. 

17 23. poesy. P. poetry. 

17 26. attained. O. obtained. 

18 4. Laaarus in. O. Lazarus 
being in. 



18 7. mine. O. my. 

18 18. make. P. makes. 

18 19. those. O. these. 
1822. liringeth. P. brings. 

18 27. (pl,\OfrO(lnaTepov. P. tplK- 
oaoipuTepasv. O. philosophoteron. 

18 27. trirov^atiTepov. P. (Tttou- 
SaioTe/)ii»'. O. spoudaioteron. 

1828. studiously serious. P. 

18 29. Ka.66\ov. O. Katholou. 

18 31. /fofl' eKatTTov. O. Katheka- 

18 34. marketh. O. marks. 
1911. ?'» Xenophon. O. of 


19 17. foul and. P. full. 

19 27. Quintus. P. Q. 

19 33. it hath. P. hath it. 
207. poetically. O. poetical. 

20 11. 3 /o«/. P. an poet. 

20 12. do concur. P. did. 

20 12. do both. P. doth both. 

20 34. pleaseth. P. please. 

21 2. j'^/. P. so yet. 

21 5. history. O. histories. 

21 6. gotten. P. got. 

21 9. setteth. P. sets. 

21 19. historian. P. history. 

21 29. sixteen hundred. O. P. 

21 33. literas. P. litteras. 

22 2. occidendos. P. occidentos. 
22 3. you. O. your. 

22 6. injustice. O. unjustice. 

22 9. deserveth. P. deserves. 

22 12. poet. P. poets. 

22 16. teach. O. doth teach. 

22 18. <i>i\otpi\6tro<i>os. O. philo- 

22 21. ioth. O. omits. 

22 21. and the. P. and. 

22 26. 7>'£(ris. P. 'yvims O. 

22 26, 27. TrpSfts. O. praxis. 

22 27. cannot. P. can. 

23 7. jz««. O. seeing. 

23 14. conceit. O. conceits. 

23 18. very. O. omits. 

23 32. of the. O. of. 

23 33. rhubarb. P. rhabarbrum. 
O. rubarb. 

24 2. y^neas. O. and jEneas. 
24 4. z/ffl/o?-. P. value. 

24 14. and. P. of. 

24 16. wisheth. P. wished. 

2417. do. P. doth. 
24 17. those. O. the. 

. 24 24. virtue. P. virtus. 

24 26. Boethius. P. Poetius. 
25 10. either. O. omits. 

25 14. behaves. P. behave. 
25 23. ever. P. only. 

25 29. murder. O. P. murther 
(and always). 

26 6. ensueth. P. ensue. 

26 13. or. P. and. 

26 14. a. O. an. 

26 17. defectious. P. defectuous. 

26 22. like. P. omits. 

26 23. Sannazzaro, O. Sanaz' 

zar. P. Sanazara. 

26 35. lords and. O. lords or. 

27 5. fff»fe«ft'o». P.contentons. 

27 12. it. P. in. 

27 13. bewaileth. O. bewails. 
27 17. lamentation. P. lamen- 

27 19. who. O. which. 

27 24. till O. until. 

27 33. argument. P. arguments. 

27 33. answer after. P. after 

28 11. an. P. omits. 

28 16. comedian. P. comedient. 

28 17. evil P. the evil. 

28 22. to. O. omits. 
28 24. find. P. see. 

2828. ulcers. O. vicers (mis- 
print ?) . 



28 35. avctorem. O. P. autho- 

29 6. blood. P. bloods. 
29 16. giveth. O. gives. 
29 19. mine. O. my. 
29 22. it is. O. is it. 

29 2T. such. P. such-like. 

29 28. valor. P. valure. O. 

29 29. think. P. think one of. 

29 33. be. O. be the. 

30 2. matters rather. P. rather 

30 15. !V. P. him. 

30 19. through. O. throughout. 

30 22. setteth. O. sets. 

3028. kind. P. kinds. 

3033. he. P. be (misprint?). 

30 35. the. P. omits. 

312. human. O. P. humane. 

31 8. most. O. not. 
31 10. even. P. omits. 

31 18. learnings. O. learning. 

31 21. nor. O. nor no. 

31 27. only. P. only, only. 

3129. his end containeth. P. 

nor end containing. 

31 31. and. O. and to. 
31 31-32. of it. O. omits. 
31 35. and. P. omits. 

31 35. leaveth. O. leaves. 

32 6. triumphant. O. triumph- 

32 11. be. O. may be. 

32 14. /lurojioiffoi. P. fiviro/iov- 
ffoi. O. mysomousoi. 

32 21. a. O. omits. 

32 27. commodity. P. commod- 

33 11. humor. O. humors. 

33 11. «> riming. P. in riming. 
33 20. considereth. O. consid- 

33 29. treasurer. P. treasure. 

33 34. one. O. one word. 

33 35. accusing. O. accuseth. 
34 10. "word. O. words. 

34 10. needeth. P. needs. 

34 11. a. P. omits. 

34 15—16. as, Percontatorein. . , , 
sumus. O. omits. 

34 19. 7nathematic. P. mathe- 

34 33. fancies. O. fancy. 

34 35. ear. O. erre. 

35 6. had overshot. O. outshot. 
35 14. poesy. O. poetry. 

35 32. affirmeth. O. affirms. 
364. writeth. O. writes. 
366. into. P. unto. 

36 14. thinketh. O. thinks. 

36 14. wrote. O. writ. 

36 19. at that. P. to the. 

36 24. tnay. O. omits. 
36 25. but. O. omits. 

36 30. proveth. O. proves. 
36 31, 32. of the. O. a. 

36 32. putteth. O. puts. 
37 1. chess. P. chestes. 
37 10. the only. P. only. 

37 15. ■ ambitiously. P. amba- 

37 24. forth. P. for. 

37 25. - whatsoever. P. what. 

37 32. ei/caffTiK^. P. piKatTTiKii. 
O. eikastike. 

37 33. things. P. thing. 

37 34. (pauTaffTixii. O. phantas- 

37 35. that. P. omits. 

38 5. Goliath. P. Golias. O. 

38 10. do. P. to (misprint?). 

38 15. receiveth. P. receives. 
O. conceiveth. 

38 27. say. P. said. 

38 31. upon. P. omits. 

39 9. in. O. on. 
3911. these. P. those. 

39 10. digression. P. disgression. 



3931. -opposed. P. apposed. 

■ 40 8. was ever. O. ever was. 

40 18. never. O. never well. 

40 20. fourscore. O. 8o. 

40 30. sepulchre. P. sepulture. 

40 30. Cato's. O. Cato his. 

40 33. that. O. now. 

40 33. Plato's. O. P. Plato his. 

41 13. shops. P. shop. 

41 17. strave. O. strove. 

41 21. where. O. when. 

4123. Pindar. O. P. Pin- 

41 28. cavillations. O. cavilla- 

41 34. doth. O. did. 

42 6-8. who . . . prophet. P. 

42 8. setteth. P. sets. 

42 29. construe. O. conster. P. 

42 31. atque. P. atq. 

42 32. republica. P. rep. 

43 1. the. P. omits. 
43 4. unto. O. to. 
43 5. unto. P. to. 

43 14. forenamed. O. afore- 

43 21. Heautontimoroumenos. O. 
P. Heautontimorumenon. 

43 27. needs. O. need. 

43 33. his. O. her. 

43 34. that. P. to have showed. 

44 9. our. P. the. 
44 12. held. O. had. 

44 12. ill-savored. O. ill-favor- 

44 15. it. P. omits. 

44 19. proceedeth. P. proceeds. 

4419. wit. P. with (misprint?). 

44 19. others. O. other. 

44 22. memora. P. memoria. 

44 24. thousand. P. thousands. 

45 6. find. P. sinde (editors 
misprint ?) . 

45 7. lamenteth, decketh. P. 
laments, decks. 

45 26. men. O. omits. 

45 30. post. P. pass. 

i 45 34. outflowings. O. outflow- 

, 46 9. but. O. but I. 

46 19. hath. P. have. 

46 21. is it. P. is. 

46 26. wings. P. wrings. 
473. conabar. P. conabor. 

47 3. erat. O. P. erit. 
47 4. any. O. an. 

47 7. Cressida. O. Cresseid. 
P. Creseid. 

47 11. reverend. O. reverent. 
P. reverent an. 

47 IB. eclogues. O. P. eglogues. 

47 19. Sannazzaro. O. Sana- 

zar. P. Sanazara. 

4719. I do. O. dol. 

47 26. tinkling. O. P. tingling. 

47 27. reason. P. reasons. 
4733. Seneca's. O. P. Seneca 


48 1. truth. O. troth. 

48 9. and many. P. and. 
48 14. Cometh. P. comes. 
48 19. and. P. omits. 

48 29. falleth. O. falls. 

49 3. have. O. hath. 
49 4. hit. P. hit it. 

49 5. containeth. P. contains. 

4915. it. P. in (misprint?). 

49 25. Trojan. O. P. Troyan. 

49 28. Arber's original reads 
by Hecuba ; P. Hecuba. 

49 35. leaving the rest, P. the 
rest leaving. 

50 1. needs. O. need. 

50 6. the clown. O. clowns. 
50 as. comedians. P. comedi- 


5025. it. p. is'(misprint?). 

51 4. and. O. or. 



sorry. O. sorry, yet. 

54 11. 

51 14. 

in. P. in a. 



procureth. P. procures. 



stir. O. stirreth. 

54 28. 


mixed. P. mix. 

55 3. 


n heartless. P. and a 

55 3. 


55 15, 


wry-. O. awry-. ' 



fruits. O. fruit. 

55 23. 


enough. O. enow. 

55 34. 

52 34. 

that. P. it that. 

56 1. 

53 2. 

far-fet. P. far-set. 



that many. O. they may. 



used. P. useth. 


53 23. 

as. .O. omits. 



Vivit ? P. et vincit. 

56 28. 

53 24. 

vero etiavi. O. P. omit. 


53 24. 

in senatum venit. O. 



venit. P. in senatum 


venit, imo in senatum venit. 

57 4. 


38. in choler do. O.doin 




53 30. 

too. O. to too. 


53 30- 

54 4. Hoii) well . . . their 



O. omits. 



Now. O. Fow. 


54 7. 

may. O. omits. 



ivhit. P. with (misprint?). 
knacks. O. tracks. 
than. O. than to speak. 
small-. O. smally. 
the. O. this. 
digression. P.disgression. 
I 16. wanteth. P. wants. 
in. O. of. 
conceits. P. conceit. 
more. O. most. 
tune. P. time. 
obtaineth, O. obtains. 
for. O. for the. 
the Italians term. P. 

is. O. omits. 

already I find. O. I find 

triflingness. P. triflings. 

it is. P. is. 

Landino. O. P. Landin. 

Herculea. O. Hercules. 

Beatrice. O. P. Beatrix. 

cataract. O. cataphract. 

of. P. omits. 

send. P. sent. 

get. P. yet (misprint.'). 


Abradatas2022, 27. 

Abraham 18 4, 38 3. 

Achilles 16 35, 24 2, 30 15, 40 11. 

Adam 8 34. 

Adrian 44 26. 

^neas 8 11, 17 16, 19 12, 20, 24 2, 15, 

30«16, 32, 37 5. 
TEsop 18 16, 36 13, 14, 43 24. 
Afric 40 28, 48 13. 
Agamemnon 16 31, 174. 
Agincourt 14 10. 
Agrippa, C, 32 30, 34. 
Agrippa, M., see Menenius Agrippa. 
Ajax 16 29. 
Albinus 5 23. 
Albion 39 1. 
Alcibiades 18 35. 
Alexander 19 23, 27 7, 39 34, 40 4, 

43 18, 51 11. 
Alexander Pheraeus 29 2. 
Alphonsus of Aragon 14 20. 
Amadis de Gaule 24 12. 
Amphion 3 5, 9 27. 
Anchises 1625, 24 15, 58 2. 
Antonius 54 16. 
Apollo 4 4, 43 23. 
Apuleius 50 10. 
Ariosto, see Orlando, Orlando Fu- 

Aristotle 9 12, 1825, 19 1, 2226, 248, 

40 5, 43 27, 48 8, 51 23, 57 12. 
Arthur 39 25. 
Asia 40 28, 48 12. 

Athenians 41 20, 21. 
Athens 3 32. 
Atreus 17 5, 19 19. 

Babylon 55 20. 
Babylonians 20 14, 17. 
Beatrice 58 1. 
Bembus4429, 57 14. 
Beza 44 30. 
Bibbiena 44 29. 
Boccace (Boccaccio), 3 18. 
Boethius 24 26, 26 24. 
Britons 4 35. 
Brutus 14 20. 
Bubonax 58 10. 
Buchanan 44 33, 52 4. 
Bupalus, see Bubonax, 

Caesar 21 29, 31, 43 19. 

Calicut 49 15. 

Callisthenes 40 6. 

Calypso 1627. 

Canidia 19 16, 16. 

Catiline 53 22. 

Cato 10 1, 34 13, 40 12, 14, 24, Stt 

Cato Uticensis 21 28, 40 15. 

Chariclea 11 18. 

Charon 35 29. 

Chaucer 3 12, 17 8, 35 l, 47 6. 

Christ 17 32, 32 2, 42 26. 

Cicero 11 16, 21 26, 54 17, 18 (see 

also TuUy) . 
Clauserus 57 17. 



Cornutus 57 18. 

Crassus 54 17. 

Cupid 37 14. 

Curtius, Quintus 19 27. 

Cypselus 22 3. 

Cyrus 8 10, 21, 23, 11 15, 17 15, 19 10, 

11,20,20 22,24 2,3015,37 5. 

Daedalus 46 24, 25. 

Danes 5 3. 

Dante 3 10, 20 34, 58 1. 

Dares Phrygius 19 12. 

Darius 20 13, 19, 27 7. 

David 6 5, 9 19, 25 28, 35, 36 12, 38 4, 

44 25. 

Davus 28 13. 
Deborah 9 21. 
Delphos 5 33. 
Demea 28 12. 
Demosthenes S3 13, 32. 
Dido 31 1. 
Diomedes 16 35. 
Dionysius 22 4, 41 25. 
Dives 17 34, 184. 
Douglas 29 21. 

Empedocles 3 18. 
Ennius 3 8, 40 13. 
Epaminondas 45 22. . 
Erasmus 32 31, 34. 
Euripides 41 20, 49 34. 
Euryalus 17 1. 

Fracastorius 44 31. 
Francis of France 44 28. 
Fulvius 40 12, 14. 

Gadatas, see Abradatas. 
Germanicus 44 25. 
Gnatho 17 7, 28 13. 
Goliath 38 5. 
Gorboduc 47 30, 48 11. 
Goths 39 5. 
Gower 3 11. 

Gyges 4 2. 

Hecuba 49 28. 

Hehcon 45 3D. 

Heliodorus 11 16. 

Heraclitus 27 14. 

Hercules 24 2, 5113. 

Herodotus 4 8, 20 12. 

Hesiod 2 29, 57 18. 

Hiero I. 41 24. 

Hipponax, see Bubonax. 

Holofernes 38 4. 

Homer 2 29, 9 27, 39 29, 40 6, 9, 

41 17, 57 19. 
Horace 19 16, 31 10, 34 12, 39 20, 

49 20. 
Hospital 44 34. 
Hungary 29 26. 

Indians 4 26, 53 18. 
Ireland 4 23, 58 12. 
Isaac 38 4. 
Ithaca 16 28. 

James of Scotland 44 28. 

James, St. 9 29. 

Job 9 22. 

John of the Nokes 36 31. 

John of the Stile 36 31. 

Judith 38 4. 

Junius, Franciscus 9 23. 

Justin 19 11, 20 12. 

Lacedaemonians 29 30. 
Laelius 43 19. 
Landino 57 24. 
Lazarus 17 34, 184. 
Linus 2 32. 

Livius Andronicus 3 8. 
Livy 20 20. 
Lucan 10 3. 
Lucrstia 10 17, 18. 
Lucretius 10 1. 

Manilius 10 2. 



Marathon ]4o. 

Marius 21 25. 

Mars 45 11, 16. 

Medea 17 7. 

Melancthon 44 30. 

Melibceus 26 34. 

Menelaus 16 32. 

Meneiiius Agrippa 25 6. 

Midas 58 10. 

Miltiades 21 22. 

Mirror of Magistrates 47 11. 

Momus 58 8. 

More, Sir Thomas 17 17, 18. 

Moses 921. 

Muretus 44 32. 

Musseus 2 29. 

Muses 2 17, 4 9, 36 6, 45 28, 57 i 

Nathan 25 27, 36 11. 
Nilus 58 4. 
Nisus 17 1. 
Nizolian 53 14. 
Normans 5 3. 

CEdipus 17 3. 

Olympus (for Olympia) 30 7. 

Omphale 51 15. 

Orlando 8 9. 

Orlando Furioso 39 25. 

Orpheus 2 32, 3 6, 9 27. 

Ovid 32 28, 47 2. 

Pacolet 49 10. 
Pallas 46 7. 
Pandar 17 B. 
Parmenides 3 19. 
Paul, St. 42 6. 
Percy 29 20. 
PeriaJider 22 3. 
Peru 49 14. 
Petrarch 3 11. 
Phalaris 22 4. 
Pharsalia 14 9. 
Philip of Macedon 306. 
Phocion 21 23. 

Phocylides 3 20, 9 35. 

Pindar 29 20, 30 1, 8, 41 23. 

Plato 3 27, 14 8, 2426, 3020, 35 fi, 

40 33, 41 5, 25, 30, 34, 42 9, 10, 

28, 43 2, 4, 8, 26, 44 8. 
Plautus 49 3, 50 13. 
Plutarch 291, 40 1,3, 4131, 42 20, 

43 29, 30. 
Pluto 40 21. 
Poitiers 14 10. 
Polydorus 49 23, 35. 
Polymnestor 49 24. 
Pompey 21 26. 
Pontanus 10 2, 44 32. 
Priamus 49 24, 26. 
Pugliano 1 3, 2 1. 
Pylades 8 9. 
Pythagoras 3 20. 

Rinaldo 30 16. 

Robert, King of Sicily 44 27. 

Robin Hood 35 6. 

Sackville, see Gorboduc, Mirror of 

Sannazzaro 26 23, 47 19. 
Saxons 5 3. 
Scaliger, Julius 33 15, 42 30, 44 31, 

Scipio 19 24, 40 27, 43 19. 
Scipio Nasica 40 25. 
Seneca 47 33. 
Severus 21 24, 25. 
Shepherd's Calendar 47 14. 
Sibylla 5 33. 
Simonides 41 23. 
Socrates 21 23, 43 20 (Laelius called 

the Roman S.), 43 22. 
Solomon 9 20. 
Solon 3 21, 25. 
Sophocles ] 6 29, 44 25. 
Spenser, see Shepherd's Calendar. 
Sphinx 38 33. 
Surrey, Earl of 47 13. 
Sylla 21 25, 31. 



Syracusans 41 21. 

Tantalus 19 19. 

Tarquinius 20 20. 

Tartars 39 29. 

Terence 43 21, 48 35. 

Thales 3 18. 

Theagenes 88, 11 17. 

Thebes 3 6, 36 17, 19. 

Theocritus 47 18. 

Thrace 49 25, 32. 

Thraso 28 13, 51 34. 

Tityrus 27 1. 

Tremellius, Emanuel 9 23. 

Troy 1626. 

TuUy 30 20, S3 13, 21 (see 

Turkey 4 21. 
Turks 39 28. 
Turnus24l8, 3016. 


Tydeus 30 16. 
Tyrtaeus 3 21, 9 35. 

Ulysses 16 26, 36, 19 20, 21 12. 

Utopia 17 17. 

Venice 45 14. 

Venus 45 15. 

Vespasian 196. 

Virgil 5 21, 8 11, 10 1, 17 16, 19 12, 

3412, 4718, 5717,582. 
Vulcan 45 17. 

Wales 4 34. 
Wotton, Edward 1 1. 

Xenophon 8 10, 11 13, 17 15, 19 11, 
20 21, 26. 

Zopyrus 20 13.