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A
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY STUDIES IN ENGLISH
AND COMPARATIVE LITERATURE
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS
SALES AGENTS
New York
LEMCKE & BUECHNER
30-32 East 20th Street
London
HUMPHREY MILFORD
Amen Corner, E.G.
Shanghai
EDWARD EVANS & SONS, Ltd.
30 North Szechuen Road
A STUDY OF
THE NEWE METAMOKPHOSIS
WkITTEN by J. M., GENT, 1600
BY
JOHN HENRY HOBART LYON, Ph.D., Litt.D.
i15eto gork
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS
1919
All rights reserved
Copyright, 1919
BtJColumbia University Pre83
Printed from type, December, 1919
Printed by The Plimpton Press, Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
IN MEMORIAM
MY MOTHER
AND
MY FATHER
This Monograph has been approved by the Department of
English and Comparative Literature in Columbia University
as a contribution to knowledge worthy of publication.
A. H. THORNDIKE,
Executive Officer
PREFACE
The World War must be held accountable for this study
of a long, rambling Elizabethan manuscript. I had planned
for some time to investigate the life and work, so full of
problems, of John Marston, and in this way I had come to
The Newe Metamorphosis which had been associated with
the dramatist's name for over a century. The globe-
embracing designs of Germany necessarily put a stop to
further research concerning Marston, for communication
with England was uncertain, and the British libraries did
not welcome visitors during those anxious days of grim de-
termination. Indeed, one felt it an impertinence to intrude
on a stage set for so sombre a tragedy. But since the
various books of The Newe Metamorphosis could be obtained
at long intervals, it seemed that a study of this manuscript
might prove of some value. Its many closely-written pages,
indeed, might hold something of fresh interest concerning
those "spacious days" of Shakspere. In this, I have been
mistaken. My work, consequently, has resolved itself
mainly into a consideration of authorship.
I have tried to keep before me in the following pages the
fact that a manuscript, not easily accessible, is of the chief
concern to those interested in a limited study of this character.
Quotations are given frequently and at length, and the final
chapter is devoted to selections. In doing this I owe the
author of The Newe Metamorphosis an apology, because he
cannot be adequately judged by a few lines arbitrarily taken
from his nearly one thousand pages. He is at his best as a
very leisurely teller of stories. I hope at some time in the
ix
X PREFACE
future to show this. I have felt there is no need of a bibU-
ography, since the authorities to whom reference is made
are few, and indebtedness to them has been acknowledged
in the text. The spelling and scanty punctuation of the
manuscript have been kept; there has been no effort made
to duplicate the script, for many of the individual letters
are formed differently from the modern practice.
I appreciate that I owe thanks to many friends who have
encouraged me in my work. I am especially indebted to
Professor Clyde B. Cooper of Armour Institute who drew my
attention to Marston, and to Professor John Matthews
Manly, Professor Albert H. Tolman, and Professor Charles
R. Baskerville of the University of Chicago, who strengthened
me by their broad scholarship and friendly sympathy in a
half-formed desire to pursue my studies. Professor George
P. Krapp and Professor Harry M. Ayres, both of Columbia
University, have been of much assistance to me; they have
generously given valuable suggestions and constructive
criticism. I am conscious of obligations to Professor Ashley
H. Thorndike beyond my power to express. The inspira-
tion of his scholarship and the stimulus of his keen mind
have been gladly acknowledged by all those who have had
the advantage of his direction. I feel, however, even more
grateful to him because of the ready sympathy and fresh
courage he gives to those who come to him looking for
assistance.
Columbia University, February, 1919.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
The M ANtrscRiPT 1
The title-pages, 1. — Importance of the manuscript, 1. — Plan
of chapters, 1. — Description of the manuscript, 2. — The
autobiographical digressions, 3. — The date of the poem,
5. — The arguments, 7. — Patrons of the work, 16. — The
Prologue, 17. — The author's mistress, 18. — The versifica-
tion, 19. — J. M.'s use of satire, 23. — The Newe Metamor-
phosis essentially a collection of stories, 27. — Reflection of
the popular taste, 28. — J. M. and Ovid, 28. — Use of fab-
liaux, 35. — Debt to Chaucer and to fabliaux, 36. — Influ-
ence of Spenser, 39. — Stories of various types, 40. — The
authorities referred to, 41. — The plan of the work, 45. — The
original frame, 46. — A frame within a frame, 51. — The in-
vention or adaptation of new framework, 52. — A change
in tone and plan in the last three books, 57. — Summary of
J. M's plan of work, 60. — References to contemporaries,
60. — Allusions to the stage, 63. — Conclusion, 64.
CHAPTER II
Critical History of the Mantjscript 65
The critical history of the manuscript, 65. — Francis Godolphin
Waldron, 65. — Joseph Haslewood, 65. — The British
Museum, 66. — Halliwell-Phillipps, 67. — The Reverend
Alexander Grosart, 67. — A. H. BuUen, 68. — Miss Lucy
Toulmin-Smith, 68.
CHAPTER III
J. M. GENT 70
The author of The Newe Metamorphosis did not plan to conceal
his identity, 70. — Autobiographical references, 72. — His
service as a soldier in Si)ain, Ireland, and Flanders,
72. — Strong religious convictions and sympathy for the so-
called Puritans, 83. — Friendship for Essex, 87. — Familiarity
xi
xii CONTENTS
with country life and sports, 88. — Intimate knowledge of
trees and flowers, 94. — Marked tendency to explain the
material uses of objects mentioned, 97. — Varied knowledge
displayed whenever it might add to the author's assumption
of authority, 102. — Reference to Cambridge, 103. — Former
literary work, 103. — Respect shown to parents, 103. — His
home, 104. — His style, 105. — Conclusion, 105.
CHAPTER IV
The Author of The Nexoe Metanwrphosis 107
The conclusions arrived at in the preceding chapter an aid in
identifying J. M. gent., 107. — The literary activity of the
period, 107. — Assistance in this problem given by contem-
poraries, 108. — The four names mentioned by Waldron,
108. — John Mason, 109. — James Martin, 109. — John
Marston of importance in spite of Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith's
assertion that he could not be the author, 110. — Value of
Marston's work. 111. — The Newe Metamorphosis miist show
the faults and excellencies of Marston if it is his work,
113. — Conclusions of Chapter III applied to Marston,
114. — His right to term himself "gentleman," 114. — His
name not French, 115. — No proof that be was a soldier,
115. — Not a man of religious convictions or one who had
sympathy for the Puritans, 117. — No love for country life
or for country pursuits, 118. — Consideration of other evi-
dence, 118. — The question of style, 119. — Conclusion, 120.
CHAPTER V
The Author of The Newe Metamorphosis (Continued).
— Jervase Markham 122
Markham's ancestry, 122. — His birth, 124. — Francis Mark-
ham, 124. — Jervase Markham's versatility, 125. — Per-
sonality, 126. — Poetical works, 127. — Dramatic productions,
129. — Industry and popularity, 129. — The conclusions
of Chapter III, 130. — The initials J.M. and Markham,
131. — The title "gent," 132. — His "Frenche" name, 133.
— Markham, a soldier, 134. — Religious devotion, 137. —
The intermingling of coarse jest and stern morality, 139. —
Markham and Essex, 139. — Markham's knowledge of the
country, 140. — Use of authorities, 141. — Reference to
CONTENTS xui
Cambridge, 143. — Former work as a poet, 143. — Devotion
to his father, 145. — His home, 146. — His style, 146. — The
conclusions of Chapter III point to Markham, 148. — The
fact that both J. M. and Markham arraign plagiarism offers
additional proof, 149. — Markham's autograph letter and
the manuscript, 150. — Hatred of Spain, 151. — Arraign-
ment of the Papacy and its followers, 152. — References to
the drama, 153. — Lack of allusions to contemporaries, 153.
— Reasons for not publishing the manuscript, 155. — Con-
clusion, 158.
CHAPTER VI
Selections from The Newe Metamorphosis 159
Index 219
OUTLINE OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Volume I. Part I
ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT U,824
Fos. 1-3. — The two title-pages and the arguments for the first
six books of Vol. I.^
Fos. 4-4 verso. — Cupid and Momus contend for the honor of
being patron to the poet. The quarrel is settled by Cupid
becoming patron of the parts concerning love and pleasure;
Momus of the satire.^ The author addresses his book. He
dedicates it to the two gods.
Fos. 5-6. — The Prologue.' The author speaks of the nature of
his work and asks the aid of gods and Matilda.
BOOK I
Fos. 7-9. — The gods seek adventure in Fayrie (England). At
Mercury's suggestion lots are drawn for a king. Cupid is
chosen and deposed by Mars and the other gods. Mercury is
driven into exile to Rome because of his plan. Bacchus
becomes king of the adventure, and Cupid is sent to Fayrie
Land to announce the coming of the gods disguised as Egypt's
king and his train. The inhabitants love the strangers.
Saturn alone remains in Olympus. (Ehzabeth, as Gloriana,
is praised, fol. 8.)
Fos. 9 verso-10. — Cupid inflames with love both mortals and
gods. Jove woos Salya, who orders him to seek her as a
baboon or monkey. Apollo takes by trickery Jove's place.
Salya is changed to a monkey by the deceived lover.
1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 1 ff. 2 cf. Chap. I, p. 16.
» Cf. Chap. VI, pp. 159 f.
XV
xvi OUTLINE OF
Fos. 10-verso 11. — Bacchus gives a feast. He ravishes Clavia
while she is intoxicated. (Digression on lust and drink.)
Fos. 11-12. — Venus becomes angry at faithless Mars. She leaves
the revel. She is caught in a fisherman's net and kept a
prisoner. The gods seek her, and Bacchus becomes reconciled
with Cupid and Mercury. (Satire on dissemblers, fos. 11
verso- 12.)
Fos. 12-12 verso. — Cupid turns an evil nun to a smoking altar
and her lover, a monk, to the fire on it.
Fos. 12 verso-13 verso. — Mercury loves and betrays Sabella,
who later becomes the mistress of Bacchus.
Fos. 13 verso-15 verso. — Jove is angry at jealous Juno, Vulcan,
and Mars. He woos Venus in the fisherman's cave in the
guise of a sparrow. Mars discovers them. He changes the
fisherman to a kingfisher.
Fol. 16 verso. — Bacchus discovers Sabella had been loved first by
Mercury. He changes her to a tamarisk tree and her husband,
a sodomite, to an elder tree.
BOOK II
Fos. 16-19. — Jove sends for Mercury in order to discover erring
mortals. Alarpha lived in Fayrie Land. She plots with her
lovers to kill her father. Two lovers fight for her and are
changed, one to a hound, the other to a mastiff. She becomes
a hare. (Attack on love, fos. 17 verso ff.)
Fos. 19-21 verso. — Jove goes to "Bernia Lande" (Ireland). He
finds the kerns practicing all kinds of unnatural vice and
their king living with a bitch by whom he has had a child.
Jove sinks the king's city into an abyss, changes the cliild to a
dog, and the inhabitants into wolves which can take man's
shape. (Many incidental attacks on the savage state of
Ireland.)
Fos. 21 verso-27 verso. — Apollo, disguised, woos Clavia, who
had been ruined by Bacchus. (Cf. Book I, fos. 10 verso ff.)
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xvil
She tells the god of a greedy shepherd, Vulpex, whose dowerless
daughter, after having been seduced, had married a gull.
Apollo woos her as a shepherd. To escape a mob, led by
her mother, he carries her to Connaught by means of a flying
horse. She gains Connaught by a trick of having the sun
remain motionless and founds Galway. (Many references to
Ireland, and digressions on vice, rash promises, etc.)
BOOK III
Fos. 28-29. — Jove is angered at Apollo, because he had kept his
chariot in the sky for three days in order to allow Clavia to
win a kingdom. This had prevented Jove from visiting at
night his new love Hehnore.
Fos. 29-29 verso. — Mars and the other gods plot against the
absent Jove; they resent the rule of Cupid, who sends Mercury
to get assistance from Jove.
Fos. 29 verso-36 verso. — Mercury, being requested, tells Jove
and Hehnore two stories: one of MaUsco, who lusted for his
own daughter and, after he polluted her, cut off her hands
and pulled out her tongue (fos. 29 verso-33 verso); the
second, of a maiden loved by Apollo, for whom he had changed
her flocks into sheep with silver fleece. Their child, Chryses,
married the son of Clavia from Connaught. They became
the parents of Hero. Jove, angry at Apollo, sends a violent
storm and drowns Chrj'^ses and her husband returning to
Connaught. (Digressions concerning hypocrites and the
birth of lust.)
BOOK IV
Fol. 37. — Jupiter pays no attention to Cupid's peril; conse-
quently, the love god, in defense, shoots his arrows at his
enemies.
Fos. 37-37 verso. — Mars, a victim of Cupid, loves the nymph,
Lafigia. After various metamorphoses, he wins her in the
guise of a fish.
Fos. 38-41 verso. — Bacchus, the next victim, meets an old bawd.
xviii OUTLINE OF
She tells him of Puten (tobacco), formerly loved by Mercury.
(Digression on tobacco, fos. 39-40.) Bacchus turns her girls
to spiders and the old bawd to a top which boys play with.
(Digression on virtue and prostitutes, fos. 41-41 verso.)
Fos. 42-43. — Bacchus loves Lyaeus. She refuses him. He
turns her into the grapevine, sacred to him because of his love.
(Digression on wine.)
Fos. 43-47 verso. — Pluto is also inflamed with love by Cupid.
Juno had discovered Jove's HeUnore and turned her into a
camel. Before this, she had been attacked by Vulcan. Pluto
loved the paramour of the giant born of this attempted rape,
and carried her to hell. The giant seeks aid from liis father
Vulcan, but because he steals a golden horseshoe, he loses
his eyesight. He curses Vulcan and Venus, and is made
sport of by hell.
BOOK V
Fos. 48-49. — The nine daughters of the Rhine challenge the
Muses to a contest in song. An old man with a dishonest
advocate is chosen as judge. (Digression on bribery and
lawyers.)
Fos. 49-54. — Three of the daughters of the Rhine tell of Amahna,
daughter of Venus and Vulcan's helper. She is loved by
Neptune. He allows her to taste the pleasures of both sexes.
Neptune later loves the nymph, Thames. He takes her to
his palace — (digression in which the palace is described,
fos. 50 verso ff.) — where she submits to Amalina, the man-
maid. The latter is consigned to hell; the former becomes the
river Thames, later wooed by a giant, Pons, who rapes her.
He is turned to London Bridge. (Digression on the Thames,
fol. 54.)
Fos. 54-56 verso. — The fourth and fifth sisters tell of the Thames
and of London.
Fos. 56 verso-63 verso. — The remaining sisters speak of a feast
given by the garden god. (Digression on flowers and herbs,
fos. 57 verso ff.) His love, Clare, is killed by a boar and
THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xix
turned to a potato. The evil Capernus tries to rape the sleeping
Ceres. He aims an arrow by mistake at Pan and is changed
into a goat.
BOOK VI
Fos. 63-65 verso. — Melpomene, the first of the Muses to speak,
tells of a fickle wanton, Taboretto.
Fos. 65 verso-67 verso. — Clio speaks of the adventures of some
pirates after peace was made with Spain, who were turned to
sharks.
Fos. 67 verso-69. — Euterpe tells of Sabina, who had entered a
nunnery, but left it for the stews. She consulted a witch to
procure a drug to kill her unborn child. (Digression on
witches and prostitutes.)
Fos. 69-71. — ThaUa gives a history of inventions and of the
progress of civihzation.
Fos. 71-73 verso. — Terpsichore relates how the merchant Pal-
gradius is betrayed in his absence by his Mafe. On his return,
he visits a marvelous palace; meets the devil as a negro
succubus; and finally drives his wiie to a fife of shame.
Fos. 73 verso-76. — Erato relates how Paroquita first married
for money, then for love. She becomes nurse to the child of
a duchess. When old and common, she panders to evil appe-
tites. She makes the wife of the young ruler unfaithful by
telling her the duke is sexually defective. Lucina changes
the bawd to a parrot which tells secrets of its mistresses.
(Digressions on the influence of money, on midwives, on bawds,
etc.)
Fos. 76 verso-81 verso. — Polymnia tells of witches coming
from Ireland to Scotland; thoir attacks on James and the
Puritans, and their league with the Romanists.
Fos. 81-82. — Calliope speaks of the haughty daughter of a black-
smith who refused Cupid, and, in consequence, was turned to
a peacock.
Fos. 82-83 verso. — Erania tells how the people in "Stroade in
Kent" threw fish tails at Bacchus (he turned them to fish)
XX OUTLINE OF
and of those who eat fowl in Lent with the permission of the
Pope.
Fos. 83 verso-88 verso. — The judges take bribes from the
daughters of the Rhine. Jove arraigns them, praises true
law, and changes the advocate to a wolf, his helper to a gnat,
and the maidens to mermaids. (Digression on bribery,
injustice, greed, etc.)
Volume I. Part II
ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT 14,825
BOOK VII
Fos. 1-1 verso. — The arguments are given for the six books of
Part II.i
Fos. 2-9 verso. — Cupid, because Saturn favors Mars, makes the
old god love a child of eight. (Digression on age and youth.)
Her mother, to be relieved of birth pangs, had promised
Minerv^a to keep her daughter unmarried. The girl spurns
Saturn's advances when he seeks to ravish her whilst in bathing.
Minerva changes her to an olive tree (fol. 3 verso). Eusham,
the daughter of the river Avon, laughs at Saturn's disappoint-
ment. He then rapes her. A child is born with one eye, to
whom Saturn gives a pearl for the missing eye (fol. 4). One
Eye, the son, marries Holland and has two sons, one Porcus,
a miser, the other Costerus, consumed by jealousy. The
former plots against his fath€T, and by means of drink and
drugs steals the eye of pearl. (Digression on drunkenness
and undutiful sons.) He cannot sell the pearl, but in spite of
his pleas, the king Mempricius seizes it (fol. 7). The son
next turns farmer and then usurer. He leaves Ms ill-gotten
wealth to churches and hospitals. (Digression on farming,
ill-gotten wealth, etc.)
Fos. 9 verso-16. — Mempricius, the king who had seized the
1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 8 S.
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxi
pearl, was lustful. He tempts the virtuous Matilda and
banishes her husband. She tries to escape, but is seized, and
her husband is slain. She resists the king and his bawd, and
in order to save herself she jumps into a fire made to celebrate
his birthday. Juno turns her to a salamander; the bawd to a
cat.
Fos. 16-18. — This king has as a mistress the youngest daughter
of the bawd. She visits him by night and by mistake smears
her face so that it is black. The king nearly slaj^s her. She
is turned to a tree; the king, full of lust, seeks the company
of beasts, and is killed by wolves.
Fos. 18-24 verso. — The author again speaks of Porcus, the miser
son of One Eye; of a man of Brentwxod who gelded himself
to see if his wife were virtuous; and of a fat glutton who left
his corpse to surgeons (fol. 19). A laborer tells of One Eye's
second son, Costerus. He was consumed by jealousy. He
forbids his wife to see any man. She deceives him with an
old lover, disguised as a peddler (digression on the ease with
which women deceive men); with the god Proteus, disguised
as a lobster; with a Franciscan friar who visits her concealed
in a trunk; and ■nith Mercury who carries her to France and
turns the husband to a milk-white bull in the forest of Calydon.
Fos. 25-26. — Mercury becomes by this haison the father of two
children. To show his divinity, he unwiUingly gives the
mother a staff for the son, May, which can transform one
into whatever one desires. The mother is inadvertently
changed into a quail.
Fos. 26-27 verso. — May next transforms a fish thief into an otter
and some painted ladies to glow^'orms.
Fos. 27 verso-29 verso. — Anolfus at that time was emperor of
Germany. (Digression on popes, drink, and alchemy.)
Phrixius made him a drinking glass which would turn black
if it contained poison. The goldsmiths, because of jealousy,
summoned Ma3^ He changed Phrixius into an image.
Fos. 29 verso-32. — May visits Britain, sees strange sights,
xxii OUTLINE OF
meets Merlin, and takes part in a cherry-stealing prank at
Cambridge.
Fos. 32 verso-35 verso. — May, returning to France, finds his
sister a pelican, because she had betrayed the secret that a
cliild of Apollo and a Lady Drant was of both sexes. He
changes his sister to a mulberry tree, her children to silkworms.
The gods are angry at his presumption. His father Mercury
transforms him to the sacred sycamore.
Fos. 35 verso-40. — The scene returns to the court of Anolfus.
Jack Gullion and his family, because of their drunkeimess
and impiety, are metamorphosed by Bacchus. (Digression
on drink.) Xadleus, a magician, and others who are in prison
are punished for their crimes. (Attacks on swearing, dice,
and evil women.)
BOOK IX
Fos. 40 verso-49. — Arabianus, king of a land near that of the
pygmies, falls in love with the emperor of Germany's daughter,
whose picture he has seen. They are married, and he is
killed in a single combat with the warring king of Egypt.
Before the combat he had received an enchanted ring. His
wife leaps into his funeral pyre and becomes the Phoenix.
(Description of funeral rites.)
Fos. 49-53. — The author defends women, giving many examples
of when they are virtuous.
Fos. 53-56 verso. — A friend betrays the absent husband, who,
on his return, kills him. The husband confesses the murder
to his wife, who brings him to execution. The wife is turned
to the salmon with red flesh, because she had caused her
husband's death, her lover to the pike, and her husband to the
porpoise, both of which pursue her.
BOOK X
Fos. 57-59 verso. — Apollo, meeting the exiled Mercury, is aston-
ished at liis poverty. Apollo speaks of the golden age; Mer-
cury repUes with a description of the terrible vice now
THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS XXlU
prevalent throughout the world. Apollo inquires concerning
Italy.
Fos. 59 verso-76 verso. — Mercury tells of the wickedness of
the popes and of the Roman CathoUc Church. (Detailed
attack on the Papacy.)
Fos. 76 verso-77. — Mercury speaks of two beautiful royal
nymphs, Canta and CaUna. He loves the former.
Fos. 77-90. — To pass the time, he next describes a gull who
misused words and aped fine manners. Mercury, as a poor
scholar, served the gull. He tells of some merry men, with
shrewish wives, who were punished by Vulcan because they
sang of Venus' deception. (Digressions on lack of learning
and faults of women.)
Fos. 90-91. — Apollo and Mercury woo and win the fair Canta
and Calena, from whom all poets are sprung. (A Ust of
Enghsh poets.)
Fos. 91-91 verso. — The Pope is the prince of poets because of his
marvelous inventions. (Further arraignment of the Church
of Rome.)
BOOK XI
Fos. 92-93. — The author praises friendship. He gives a Ust of
faithful friends. He cautions the reader against trusting too
hastily.
Fos. 93-101. — OrgagUo and Rodrigo were friends for seven years.
They married sisters. The latter had a daughter; the former,
childless, spent his fortune. In Rodrigo's absence, Orgaglio
plots against him and betrays his wife. Rodrigo and his
wife both die of grief. Orgaglio seizes their property, abuses
their child — (digressions on evil executors) — and finally
becomes a powerful justice. Cupid, because Jove had not
aided him when he was attacked by Mars and his confederates,
inspires Jove with love for the abused daughter. To win her,
Jove seeks employment from Orgaglio, and after being abused
and cheated, transforms liim to a serpent. (Digression on
the landscape of the vicinity.)
xxiv OUTLINE OF
Fos. 101-108 verso. — Cupid has no power over Juno. She seeks
her husband, after putting on her bridal robes, in various
places. (Digression describing Corycus' cave.) She finds
Jupiter, and after recriminations they become reconciled.
BOOK XII
Fos. 109-112 verso. — Venus upbraids Cupid, because he has
driven the gods from Olympus. She tells liim women love a
bold wooer. He twits her for her faithlessness, but brings
Mars back to his mother.
Fos. 112 verso-114. — Jove is still angry at Mars because of
his rebellion. He shoots his thunderbolt. War takes place;
many mortals are killed, and heaven bursts in flames; hence
our dog daj^s. Jove calls a parliament and a star chamber.
Cupid is banished for twelve years. Gloriana (Ehzabeth) is
to be made a goddess after death. The son of Roderiga and
Jove, killed in the battle, is transformed into a nectarine.
Fos. 114-116 verso. — Heaven is at peace, but famine and misery
depopulate the earth. Merlin is consulted by a gentleman
of note by means of a page. This page, by disguise, seeks to
trick MerUn. He suffers both deaths prophesied. MerUn
tells of Albion's princes, of the first Stuart, of the death of
Prince Henry, and of the Princess EUzabeth's marriage.
Fos. 116 verso-123. — Mars and many allies were wounded in
the war of the gods. Venus, revengeful, looks for her child
Amalcius in hell,^ the entrance of which is in Italy. Venus
sees the first negro in company with the popes and Pluto.
She gives the popes a three days' jubilee, at which Rome
rejoices. Amalcius, to disguise himself, becomes a monk.
He invents powder and guns. He loved a succubus of Lucifer.
(Attacks on Roman Catholicism.) The Pope, aided by the
Jesuits, stirs up the Spanish king to attack England. Pope
Joan has an incubus, and their child is Guy Fawkes. The
author attacks Spain and the papists.
1 His story is told in Book V. He is the man-maid who ruined
Thames.
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxv
Fos. 123-136 verso. — The story of the Armada, its preparations
and expectations, is told. The fleet is shattered by a storm.
The Enghsh fleet is described, and Drake is praised. The
EngUsh strategy is explained, and a description is given of the
army at Tilbur3^ (Leicester is attacked.) The defeat of the
Armada is described. Pluto refuses to let the Spaniards
come to hell for fear they might rape Proserpina. Jove turns
them to cod and herrings which Spaniards still seek. The
loss of Spain is pictured, and the queen is praised. (Captain
Cox is referred to.)
Fol. 136 verso. — The praise of the queen is interrupted by news
of her death.
Volume II
ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT 14,826
BOOK I
Fos. 2 verso-5 verso. — Jove mourns for Cupid, who has come to
"Fayrie Tande" (England). The author describes England
— ("Speede" is mentioned) — its riches, women, landscape,
etc. He praises Gloriana (EUzabeth) and James. (Attacks
on the parasite.)
Fos. 5 verso-8. — Cupid tries to be a shepherd. Because of
his cruel treatment, he causes the death by drowning of his
landlord's son and the girl he loved. They are changed to
carps. The father, before his own death, eats his son.
(Digression on carps.)
Fos. 8-9 verso. — Cupid next comes to a stream in which lads are
in swamming. They attack him. He turns them into ducks,
"Morecocks," and " stansticks." (Digression on fishing.)
Fos. 9 verso-12. — He next ser\'es a pander, Paterno, who lives
by his wife's shame. (Digression on fashions, vice, etc.)
Fos. 12-21. — Juno, aided by Occasio, still hates Cupid. The
poet passes over many of the god's adventures. Cupid serves
xxvi OUTLINE OF
Plancus, a soldier, who loves Zidia. Plancus despairs of
success. He turns poet and sends his page Umbrellia, who
because she loved him had followed him disguised, to sing to
his lady. Zidia loves the disguised page. She finally marries
Plancus, who discovers the identity of his page and now woos
her faded to a shadow. His wife and her lover plan to kill
him. Cupid changes Plancus to an eagle, the wife to a tortoise,
and the lover to a crane. Both the crane and the eagle hate
the tortoise. (Digression concerning the death of Aeschylus,
killed by an eagle dropping a tortoise on his head, thinking
it was a rock, fol. 21.)
BOOK II
Fos. 21-25. — Two children, Dulcimel and Amoretta, are born in
Arcadia. Their early life and love are described. Amoretta
has another wooer from Fayrie, who tries in vain to win her
by gifts and poems. She marries Dulcimel, but they are
childless.
Fos. 25-26 verso. — Dulcimel finds a weeping child (Cupid),
whom he adopts and calls Eros. His kiss inflames his foster
parents, to whom later a daughter is born. Cupid also gives
them prosperity. (Digression on absurd fashions.)
Fos. 26 verso-31 verso. — The king sends Dulcimel to the
Turks. On his return, he frees an old knight from some
ruffians, and is wooed by his evil wife. Diana turns her to a
wanton "wagtail" (fol. 29 verso). In his absence, the king
and Mars, the latter in various disguises, try to deceive Amo-
retta. Cupid helps her to resist until her husband returns.
Fos. 31 verso-36. — Mars remains at their reunion feast. Dul-
cimel tells of his adventures. He speaks of the career of the
English pirate Ward, an unbeliever. Mars tells of EUzabeth
and of the Romanist plots against her, especially those in
Ireland.
Fos. 36-37 verso. — Mars blesses the virtuous couple. Eros weds
their daughter.
THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xxvii
BOOK III
Fos. 38-46. — Jove, in order to restore Cupid to heaven, tells him
to shoot only cold, blunt arrows; the result is that birth and
marriages cease. (Digression on the pranks of Cupid.) The
gods hold a council. They ask Jove to punish Cupid. He
refuses and attacks them for their former plots. (Digression
on the power of kings.) He finally recalls Cupid, and the
world prospers. Cupid's new love, Melamorretta, is made
queen of pure love; Venus of dalliance.
Fos. 46-50. — Mars is still angry at Cupid. He woos an e\i]
nun Adiana (attacks on Roman Cathohcism) and fights with
a groom, her lover. The latter, hit by a stone, becomes the
source of a river. Adiana had been first wooed by Vulcan.
Venus turns her to the myrtle.
Fos. 51 ver 80-57. — The author continues his attacks on the
" Cloystred-mates " by telling of the Abbot Bolton who, to
escape a flood, built a tower to which he retired with provisions
and "sacred" books. (Attacks on superstition and the
Papacy.) A search for a miller and his mistress, hiding in a
cave, causes the abbot to think the flood has come. (Digres-
sion on age marrying youth.) He cuts the ropes of the boat
he had placed on top of the tower and is killed by the faU.
BOOK IV
Fos. 57 verso-64. — The author again speaks of the Thames.
He tells of Neptune's love for her. They have a daughter
Amwell who can change her form, and in this way she avoids
wooers. (Digression on cowards.) Rodon, son of Proteus
and a nun, is advised by his father to seize Amwell and hold
her with no fear of her transformations. He wins her, and
their child Beely weds the stream " Bardf eildian." Their
elder son weds Molyno. After his death, she gives herself
to his brother. Neptune takes revenge on their secret love.
Fos. 64 verso-65 verso. — A friend of the author tells him of
how he was captured by the Spaniards; had served in a galley;
xxviii OUTLINE OF
was seized by the Turks and was taken to Egypt whence he
escaped. He agrees to tell of what he has seen.
Fos. 65 verso-72. — This friend tells three stories. He relates
how an artisan marries the base daughter of the king. Be-
cause of his wealth and a marvelous garden, he becomes proud.
Apollo punishes him. The second story gives the reward of a
poor but generous man who receives the disguised Apollo
with true hospitality. The third gives the history of a mush-
room squire who cuts down a grove sacred to Diana in order
to gratify his whims. (Digressions on trees, upstarts, spend-
thrifts, etc.)
Fol. 72. — Another friend promises to tell some stories.
BOOK V
Fos. 72 verso-73 verso. — TMs visitor says that at childbirth
one finds the most gossip. He introduces a midwdfe and her
friends.
Fos. 73 verso-76 verso. — The midwife tells of Lunglie, a black-
smith, who robs an orchard and marries an old woman for
money. (Digression on fooHsh widows.) Lunglie marries
again. He keeps his grain from the starving poor until he is
ruined by grain brought from Denmark. He poisons himself
and is turned by Ceres into a rat. (Digression on suicide.)
Fos. 76 verso-77. — All the women present agree to tell a story.
Fos. 77-78. — Winifred relates how she was ravished by a gallant
gentleman in satin. The mid\\dfe likes the story and calls on
Demure, a chaste matron, for the next.
Fos. 78 v^rso 80. — Another interrupts with a tale of how she
was ravished on the way to a wedding. Her husband, a
fiddler, was forced to play whilst she was assaulted. (Digres-
sion on cuckolds.)
Fos. 80-81 verso. — Demure tells of virtuous Piscator, drowned
whilst fishing. His wife sees his hat on the water and dives
for it. Cupid turns them to "Dop-cHcks."
Fos. 81 verso-82 verso. — "The Lady in Bed" affirms the truth
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxix
of this story. She tells of a lover, Pulex, who prayed to be
her necklace, etc. He finally wants to be the flea on her dog,
in order to have its freedom. He becomes the flea, and is
j'et found as a compainion of women.
Fos. 82 verso-84 verso. — The next tells of Leda coming to
Germany with her twins. Because a woman called her vile
names for bearing twins, Jove makes the offender bring forth
three hundred and sixty-five childxen at one birth. Her tomb
and that of her children can be seen near The Hague in the
neighborhood of the English camps.
Fos. 84 verso-87. — The women wish to go to the army camps.
The hostess persuades them to stay with her all night.
Fos. 87-94 verso. — One tells of the marriage of Venus and Vulcan.
Venus, in order to deceive Mars, sends her husband for the
"Box of her Maidenhead." Vulcan, against her orders, opens
it and a butterfly escapes. Venus declares her treasure is
lost. Venus turns the prattling wives to butterflies.
BOOK VI
Fos. 95-96. — The author has "ColUck." He visits the various
springs to be cured. He likes Malvern.
Fos. 96-98 verso. — He tells of the irreverent people near this
place. He attacks the ignorant clergy, and speaks of one
who mispronounces many words. (Digression on ilUterate
clergy.)
Fos. 98-101 verso. — He speaks of an old hag near Malvern who
pretends to cure with one remedy. (Attacks on quack doc-
tors.) He next tells of a maiden who was recompensed by
her betrayer by a pretended remedy for all diseases. Later
she becomes famous and is sought by the same man in order
to remove a fishbone lodged in his throat. Aesculapius turns
them both to horse-leeches.
Fos. 101 verso-107. — The author leaves Malvern. He meets
a man who has a charm to snare rabbits. He next tells of a
mother \\dth an ungrateful son, and an anecdote of a rich
XXX OUTLINE OF
man with four foolish sons. (Digression on filial love.) He
relates how a father gave all his property to his ungrateful
eldest son.
Fos. 107-110 verso. — The author returns home. His friend
Russius has lost his wife and sought her in all army camps and
evil resorts. Russius, hungry and poor, breaks the branch
of a tree, only to hear the voice of his wife. She tells him of
her evil life and of her change to the "medler" tree because
she was a gossip. The author wonders that Russius should
tell his story. (Digression on false friends.)
BOOK VII
Fos. 111-114, — The author turns for material to France. He
tells how a French gallant and his mistress kill the faithful
wife who was childless and had prayed to Favonius to make
her pregnant. Her prayers had been overheard, and she had
been suspected of having a lover. (Digression on the abuse
of love and of wine.)
Fos. 114-118 verso. — A friend craves death because of unrequited
love. The author tells him three tales, exemplifying abuses:
First, of how an evil man tried to rape a girl in church and
was turned to a baboon; second, of two fighters who foUow a
prostitute to a tavern — both are killed in a duel which follows;
third, of Swynburnus, the gambler, who kills himself when
fortune proves fickle. (Digression on gambling.)
Fos. 118 verso-123 verso. — He next tells his companion of the
Cadiz expedition, of the number of the ships, the sacking of
the town, the ransom, the burning of the Spanish ships, of the
destruction of Faro, etc. A dove gives a good omen for the
return voyage. Medina praises the Enghsh.
Fos. 123 verso-127 verso. — Mendoza, a youth of Cadiz, wishes
to marry. His mother objects. (Attacks on women.) He is
killed by the English. The mother curses everything con-
cerned in his death. She tells of the sufferings of a woman
in bearing and bringing up a son.
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxxi
BOOK VIII
Fos. 128-129. — The author speaks again of Cadiz, Faro, and
Lotha.
Fos. 129-131. — The Shipmaster proposes that his companions
tell stories. A prize is offered, and the first lot is drawn by
the parson. (Digression on schools.)
Fos. 131-133. — The Master tells of Parson Darcie, who got his
dinner and wine for nothing, and who was finally hung. The
Chaplain resents this story.
Fos. 133-138. — The Chaplain speaks seriously of plots, "divine
and profane," and of plantations in Virginia and Ireland.
He praises the king. The Master calls him a Puritan, and
the Captain settles the quarrel.
Fos. 138-140 verso. — The Surgeon speaks next. His remark
that all women are bad stirs up resentment. The company
takes sides. The Surgeon tells of a gull with his hair dressed
in horns (attack on fashions) who returns home to find his
wife with a lover. He is paid for the injury to his honor
with his own money.
Fos. 140 verso-145 verso. — The Captain speaks of a virtuous
wife who spurns Sansfer, a treacherous friend who lives on
her husband's bounty. He tempts her with lines from
Orlando Furioso, with a marvelous pictured casket, and with
letters. She tells her husband. Sansfer confesses his love,
and is tossed in a blanket. He becomes a buzzard.
Fos. 145 verso-146 verso. — The Boatswain tells of Dorothea,
who cruelly drove his brother to commit suicide. Venus
turned him to a mistletoe and the girl to a cucumber, which,
ripe, shoots out its seeds when touched. Venus also punishes
Dorothea's brother and sister who attack her.
Fos. 147-150 verso. — The Gunner's Mate relates how a nobleman
plans to marry his eldest son Alphonsus to his neighbor's
daughter. The son secretly ruins the girl, and then he travels
until they are old enough to marry. He is lost and is made a
galley slave by the Spaniards. He escapes and returns home
xxxii OUTLINE OF
in time for the wedding of liis younger brother to his betrothed.
She recognizes him by a ring. The Pope gives her to the
elder brother; her lands to the younger. Alphonsus dies, and
the Pope gives the girl to his brother. Because of their lust,
they are changed to parsnips. (Attacks on Spain and the
Pope.)
BOOK IX
Fos. 151-152. — The author praises women, and gives Elizabeth
as an example to all. (Satire on the Welsh.)
Fos. 152-156. — A "Voluntarie Gent" tells how a merchant is
forced to leave his wife of three years. She pretends grief.
Corncaput, in order to escape the watch, takes refuge in her
house which he finds open. The maid leads him to the bed of
her mistress who was waiting for her lover. She does not
discover her mistake because of the darkness. The next day
she tries to have liim arrested when he comes to her shop.
He shows her a ring she had given to him and becomes her
lover.
Fos. 156-161 verso. — A "Young Gent," who came to Cadiz
because of love, relates how a captain scorned Cupid. Cupid
makes him love a friend's Avife whom he woos in vain. He
goes to the Spanish Main in search of gold. (Drake is referred
to.) He returns to find his love in her coffin. He visits the
tomb at night and finds her ahve. She remains with him. The
husband finally discovers the treachery.
Fos. 162-166 verso. — The Steward makes sport of women.
He jests about the Captain's conduct at Cadiz. He tells of a
wanton wife who pubhcly shamed her husband. The Master
declares this story is worse than those of Italy. The Steward
replies with another indecent anecdote.
Fos. 166 verso-168 verso. — The Gunner tells of a youth who
finds that his love, liis sister, and his mother are all wanton.
Fos. 169-171. — The Master-Mate tells of the lust of MessaUna.
Fos. 171-173. — The Cook relates how Nostam, who had skill in
astronomy and medicine, betrayed a young wife in her hus-
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxxiii
band's absence by pretending her unborn child was not per-
fectly formed. His own wife later discovered he was diseased.
He was turned to the Orchis.
Fos. 173-177. — The "Apprentice" of London, who had run away
from his master, tells of some merchants and their wives at
the White Harte Inn at St. Albans. They made a wager in
which the largest bed in England plays a part. Three lovers
of their wives, who had followed them, deceived the merchants
whilst drunk. Tlie narrator demands the prize for the best
story,
Fos. 177-181 verso. — The Master urges the bashful "Drum"
to continue the contest. He speaks of a clever doctor who
wins a rich wddow by pretending he is successful in his pro-
fession. She first tries him in various ways. Her maid
betrays her. After marriage she becomes haughty. (Digres-
sions on false pride, quacks, and fashions.) The wife is
poisoned by mistake by a drug intended for a rich baron who
plotted to murder his wife. The baron is given the poison
when ill by his unsuspecting wife.
Fos. 181 verso-183. — The "Clarke of the Bande" affirms that
men tempt women and then blame them if they Usten. He
tells of the son of Gaffer Huh-huh who made pretense to
fashion. (Digression on flattery and evil times.) He takes
his falcon to church, and is punished by Diana.
Fos. 183-185. — The Purser states he knows many stories. He
intended first to tell of a youth married to a witch, who could
make orchards bear in winter, etc. She makes the youth's
father young. They deceive and kill the husband. The
Purser then tells of an untruthful prentice (digression on
lying, evil parents, courtiers, etc.) — w^ho becomes a courtier.
Fos. 185-188. — The Trumpet tells of the daughter of the nun
Adiana and Mars.^ Proteus takes her to America. Neptune
wins her from Proteus and removes her to Trinidad. (Descrip-
tion of Trinidad.) Proteus, in revenge, by means of an
1 Cf. Vol. II, fos. 46 ff.
xxxiv OUTLINE OF
oyster kills her while she is bathing. Neptune takes vengeance
on the oyster.
Fos. 188-190 verso. — The Lieutenant first speaks of his youth
and education. He tells of a lawyer who, when he became
judge, decided a case against his former decision. (Attacks
on lawyers.)
Fos. 190 verso-192 verso. — The Ancient tells of a duke's
daughter stolen by a pope. She is rescued by a forester.
She marries and bears a child who is smothered by its nurse.
(Attacks careless mothers.) The nurse substitutes her child.
The duke discovers his daughter by a birthmark on her breast.
The nurse is put to death by her son when she tells him of her
deceit.
Fos. 192 verso-194. — Land is sighted. The Master becomes
the judge and gives the prize to the Cook. The Gunner
laments the lack of time for his tale.
BOOK X
Fos. 194 verso-196. — The author lays aside his "sportfull
Muse."
Fos. 194-198 verso. — He speaks of the Romanist plots against
Ehzabeth. (Praises of Elizabeth and James.) He tells of
the Bye Plot.
Fos. 198 verso-207. — The history of the Gunpowder Plot is
given in detail.
Fos. 207-221. — The author tells of the fate of Fawkes and Garnet.
A witch takes him to hell. (Digression on those in hell.)
She tells him of the first pope and of Ecclesia Romana. He
returns to earth.
Fos. 221-233 verso. — He continues his attacks on the Roman
CathoUcs, especially on the Jesuits. He closes by stating he
has written this book against the "CathoUque Church."
THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxxv
BOOK XI
Fos. 234-236. — The author tells of the drinking at Stratford-bowe
during the "Greene-goose-fay re." The visitors all become
drunk. (Attacks excess in drinking.) Bacchus comes to
prevent the riot and fighting. (Digression on the friendships-
of drunkards.)
Fos. 236-240 verso. — The author blames the justices for the
taverns. They accept presents from the iimkeepers and
refuse to prosecute them for their lawlessness and the evils
caused by drinking. All classes are now addicted to drinking.
The custom of drinking healths is arraigned. Bacchus is
angered at the drunkenness at the fair. He changes the crowd
to geese; hence the name of the fair.
Fos. 240-246. — The author declares gluttony is the younger
brother of drink. It is found in all classes and kills more
than war. He tells of a young friar who ruins himself by
giving a feast for his abbot. A neighbor, Brawl, who loves
lawsuits and speaks in dialect, is one of the guests. The
bankrupt friar becomes demented. (Digression on melan-
choly.)
Fos. 246-249. — The author speaks of envy and malice which
attack one's good name, even that of the king. They are
nourished by peace. The poet tells of a j'^outh convicted for
the lust of another. He himself has been slandered. (The
Roman CathoHc Church is attacked.)
BOOK XII
Fos. 249 verso-252. — The author, commencing with Adam,
gives a list of British kings.
Fos. 252-256. — He laments the death of Prince Henry and lauds
James. (Attack on the Roman Catholic Church.)
Fos. 254-255 verso. — He speaks of the marriage of the Princess
Ehza and the attending festivities. He praises Ehza and her
consort. He prays for the overthrow of Spain, Austria, and
the Papacy.
XXXVl OUTLINE OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Fos. 256-267. — The author tells of some of those who attended
the wedding: a Captain Swan who disliked "Pigge" (digres-
sion on fashions and tastes); a Monsieur Roe (fol. 257 verso)
who sacrificed his timber to procure fine clothes; a fine ladj'^
who ruined her husband for buckles for her shoes (fol. 257,
verso); a gull in fine clothes (fol. 258); and a pretended lady
of fashion in a coach. (Digression on the golden mean, fol.
258 verso.) The author next tells of a miserly usurer who
from the one gown of his dead mfe wishes his tailor to make
him many things (fol. 259 verso), and of a silk merchant who
seeks to collect a debt from a tailor (fol. 260 ff.) whose wife
betrayed him in the tailor's Hell.' (Digressions on tailors,
duns, fashions, etc.) The author then relates how Sir Had-
land's ^ son, a prodigal, seeks a livelihood. (Digressions on
heraldry, flattery, the caprice of masters, and the nouveaux
riches.)
Fos. 267-268. — The author tells what vices he has attacked in
his work.
' The space beneath the tailor's work bench.
2 Cf. Vol. II, Book IV.
IL^f
plcfm^^^^^
"^fYittfyi
f/L iff^t-'.
\ilti^U'
: ._„^...r'^'" m
The First Titi.i. I'ai.i.
Photographs taken from a rotagraph copy of the manuscript.
THE XEWE METAMORPHOSIS
CHAPTER I
THE MANUSCRIPT
The manuscript of The Newe Metamorphosis, which has
been in the possession of the British Museum since 1844/
has attracted only cursory attention,^ although it has been
mentioned and quoted several times since the early part of
the nineteenth century by men interested in the Elizabethan
period of English literature.^ The great length of the manu-
script, together with the fact that it was written during the
years of the culmination of Shakspere's work and contains
many allusions to contemporary manners and history,
makes this apparent neglect surprising. It is worthy of
consideration and a somewhat detailed description.
In addition, the identity of J. M. gent, offers an interesting
problem. In spite of several conjectures, no serious effort
has been made to determine this question, and, as a result,
the authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis, which Haslewood
nearly a century ago dogmatically assigned to John Marston,
is still in doubt."*
In this chapter I shall discuss briefly both the type of
work found in The Newe Metamorphosis and the plan of
' In Vol. I, p. 1, on the flyleaf is written "purchased of Payne &
Foss, 1844 (3 vols.)."
* Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith in the Shakspere AUusion-Book, Vol. II,
pp. 480-488, has given a very slight outline of the MS.
' Cf. Chap. II.
* Cf. Chap. II.
1
2 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the poem; in the ensuing chapters I shall consider the
problem of the identity of J. M.
The Newe Metamorphosis, to call the poem by its first
title, is contained in three volumes quarto, in the contem-
porary vellum binding, in the Additional Manuscripts of
the British Museum 14,824, 14,825, and 14,826, respectively.
The text, and indeed the whole manuscript, is in a remark-
ably good state of preservation. Where there is difficulty
in deciphering a word it comes from the formation of the
letters, corrections, blotted words, or lack of revision, and
not because of fading ink or mutilated pages. The first
volume has approximately eighty-eight leaves, the second,
one hundred and thirty-six, and the third, two hundred and
sixty-eight.^ The author has numbered the manuscript
by the page in the upper left-hand corner; the Museum
authorities have numbered the poem in pencil by leaf,
recto and verso. Neither method in this case is satisfactory.
The author, because of frequent additions, has added over
a hundred pages which he has inserted ; the British Museum
authorities, numbering by leaf, at times have not read the
manuscript with necessary care and, in consequence, these
insertions cause confusion. The author himself, almost
invariably by a word in the generous margin, by a dotted
fine, or even by a hand drawn in ink,^ has made the sequence
of the poem clear.
The poem is written in a close, clear hand with remarkably
few corrections considering its great length. As a rule
there is an ample margin, and frequently in this there are
1 There are frequently pages inserted. These insertions may be
one page or even extend to many. In Book II there are twenty-seven
pages numbered 281 and sixteen numbered 361. The total number
of pages is nine hundred and eighty-four. There are, as a rule, thirty
to forty lines on each page.
2 Cf. Vol. II, fol. 212.
THE MANUSCRIPT 3
many additional lines. It is of interest to note that the
author has two distinct hands. The Italian hand he uses
for personal names, for titles, for words and verses to which
he wishes to lend importance, and for the homely proverbs
for which he shows a market penchant; the other hand,
in which we find the great bulk of the manuscript, is more
difficult to decipher. It resembles in the formation of the
letters manuscripts of the last decade of the sixteenth
century.^ The poem has two title-pages, separated by the
arguments for the first six books.^ There are two volumes,^
each containing twelve books. One can see from the title-
pages that the author's original plan was a poem of twelve
books only. Undoubtedly pleasure in the work and an
unrestrained loquaciousness, characteristic of many of his
contemporaries, led him to continue his Ihad of legends to
its present rambling length. "Tomus Primus," which we
also find crossed out on both title-pages, evidently should
have remained.
The first title-page tells us that the poem was written
by J. M. gent. 1600. The second title-page also repeats
this date. A httle later,* written below the "Epistle dedi-
catorie" to Momus and Cupid and having no connection
with the poem itself, the author writes:
My name is Frenche, to tell yo^ in a worde
Yet came not in w^^^ Conqueringe Williams s worde. ^
Indeed, in many parts of his work J. M. becomes auto-
biographical. He speaks of his home;^ of the woman
* There are numerous notes in pencil in the margin of the manu-
script made by Francis Godolphin Waldron. Cf. Chap. II.
2 The second title-page is on folio 3 recto.
» Vol. I, Add. MSS. 14,824 and 14,825; Vol. II, 14,826.
* Fol. 4 verso.
* The question of authorship is discussed in Chaps. Ill, IV, and V.
« Vol. II, Book VII, fol. 115.
4 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
whom he loves/ whose aid he craves in this labor, and
who has inspired him; of his travels in Ireland/ Flanders/
and Spain/ of his admiration for several of his contem-
poraries; ^ and in a most intimate vein how he challenged
a certain gull, a "Concealers son," to a duel, and the cow-
ardly behavior of his antagonist. This last instance is
such an excellent example of his digressive method that it
deserves to be quoted.
The poet has just been telling a story of a craven coun-
cilor's son who hanged himself— "a coward ende" — and
was turned into the shape of the timid squirrel.^ Con-
tinuing, he writes;^
Whether 't's a gifte peculiar yea or noe
unto Concealers sonnes, I doe not knowe
to be ranks Cowards, yet a great Clarks sonne
that did not far from me once make his wonne *
having much wrong'd me in my reputation
and usd me in a base & scurvy fashion
I cal'd him to account & did him blame
for that he had traduced my good name
I told him of it, in his raffe & pride
my gaudy Gull, he stifly it deny'de
I told him I would w*^ my sword maintaine
the truth of what I charg'd him w**" againe
I threwe him downe my Glove & bad him take it
that he had wrong'd me, good on him I'de make — it
^ Vol. I, Prologue, fol. 6, and in many other places.
* Vol. I, Part I, fos. 21 verso ff.
3 Vol. II, fos. 84 verso ff.
* Vol. II, fos. 119 ff.
5 An example of this is Vol. II, fol. 1.
8 Vol. II, fol. 59.
7 Vol. II, fos. 59 ff.
* Home. Cf. Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto VI, Stanza
xxxix.
The Second Title Page
THE MANUSCRIPT 5
I nam'd the Tyme & Plaic for he was slacke
and I his Glove from him received backs
that he would answer me. This 'Chequer-man
home to his Mumma presently then ran
& crying told her he must fight the feild
where he much feared that he should be kild.
He was indeed a base, white-livired-slave
a foole, an Asse & a caluminous Knave.
The place appointed it was Callis sande
his sworde & horse he sold both out of hande.
And the indignant poet heaps his scorn upon his cowardly
traducer. He then continues the story of love which he
had interrupted.
Both the title-pages give the date of the poem as 1600.
It was undoubtedly commenced in that year and returned
to at intervals until about 1615. Because the last book
of the second volume mentioned the death of the Stuart
heir, the lamented Prince Henry, and the marriage of the
Princess Elizabeth,^ the poem has been assigned to the
years 1 600-1 61 3. ^ But even in the first volume we have
mention of the death of Henry .^ J. M. writes:
But H. untimely in his prime of yeares
must thence dep(ar)te, & passe through funerall fyres
iust at that tyme when greatest ioye's intended
at bright Es nuptials, w'^'* all mirth portended
then C. that Noble Prince shall nexte succeede
for soe th' imortal powers have decreede
that most illustrious Prince, Carl-Maximus
the ioye, the life, the very soule of us.
1 Henry died Nov. 6, 1612; Elizabeth married the Elector Palatine,
Feb. 14, 1612-13.
2 Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II,
p. 483.
' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 116.
6 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
In this same book we are told of the defeat of the Spanish
Armada and the tidings of the death of Ehzabeth — a
variety of subjects, truly, and separated by many years.
Several instances of this kind lead to the conclusion that
the author made many insertions in the course of compo-
sition. The frequent references to authors, and even to the
pages referred to, further strengthen this assertion and also
help in dating more accurately The Newe Metamor pilosis.
Ralegh's History of the World,'^ Purchas his Pilgrimage,'^ and
Milles' popular The Treasurie of Auncient and Moderne
Times,^ all pubHshed in 1613 or later, are mentioned, the
last most frequently and in both volumes. Consequently,
it is safe to assert that the poem was not completed before
1614 or 1615. Even the different parts of the manuscript
can be dated with some accuracy, for there are many scat-
tered allusions to contemporary history, to the early Roman-
ist plots against James,^ to the assassination of Henry of
France, to the planting of colonies in Virginia and in Ireland,^
to give only a few examples.
The reasons which deterred the author from publishing
a work upon which he had spent so many years cannot be
definitely determined. J. M., as the manuscript tells us,
served in various campaigns, and he may have written
The Newe Metamorphosis to furnish diversion to his com-
panions or to relieve the weariness of camp life. But the
Prologue, the many insertions, and the dedication, all
seem to show conclusively that the manuscript was intended
for publication and to gain the applause of his contem-
1 Entered in the Stationers' Register 15 April, 1611, but not pub-
lished until 1614; Camden says the 29th of March.
2 First folio, 1613.
3 London, 161S-19. 2 vols. The Bodleian Catalogue gives the second
volume as 1616.
* Vol. II, fos. 198 verso ff.
6 Vol. II, fos. 134 £f. The plantation of Ulster took place 1607.
THE MANUSCRIPT 7
poraries.^ He planned at first — as the title-pages make
clear — to write only twelve books, and he undoubtedly
would defer his search of an audience until he had finished
his first volume, the last book of which has a reference to
the death of Henry, the eldest son of the king.^ In the
meantime, both his material and his plan demanded a second
volume. When he wrote the "Finis" in 1615 or even later,
the temper of his contemporaries had undergone a change,
and The Newe Metamorphosis, as written at first,^ would
necessarily have to be revised in many ways before its
author could win the favor of the Stuart court. Additional
reasons why J. M., even at the conclusion of the first volume,
would hesitate to publish his work can be advanced after
the identity of the author has been determined.'*
The arguments for the first six books separate the two
title-pages. These are repeated before the respective
books with minor changes in spelling and wording. The
same plan is followed for the six books of Part 11.^ In
Volume II, however, the arguments are found not together
at the beginning, but only separately, each before its re-
spective book.
At the end of Volume II the author, in conclusion, before
he naively writes,
My leave I here of Poetrie doe take
for I have writte untill my hande doe ake
Finis,
again enumerates the sins of his contemporaries and of the
world at large which, by means of tales or by direct attack,
he has arraigned in The New Metamorphosis. As these
concluding lines and the twenty-four arguments give an
1 Cf. Prologue, Chap. VI. « Henry died in 1612.
3 Prologue. * Cf. Chap. V, pp. 155 ff.
* The argument for Part II, Book V, is not given before the book.
In the margin the argument of Book IV, crossed out, is repeated.
8 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
idea of the amazing variety and types of subjects which
J. M. treats, I shall quote them in toto;
Vol. I
Lib: 1. Argument,
The Gods dispos'd to mirthe did for their Plotte
make choise of Fayery : Quarels for the Lotte
ofGoverment: Treason 'gainst Chastety:
The Cloysters exercise cald venerie
Venus ta'ne washinge by the Fisherman :
Joves wronges he there expostulateth than.
Lib. 2. Argumente.
Rewarde of Luste : scorninge th' Love-Deitie :
Foule sinnes are punished in Hyberie:
Fooles caught w*^ gay lookes, & their fond rewarde :
Fault-finders-faults, in punishment have shar'd :
Loves most strange Labour : Hasty love repented
rash vowes perform'd, their chastisement augmented.
Lib. 3. Argument.
The quarrell 'bout the Lotte devission makes
amongst the Gods, the rest wi**^ Mars pertakes:
Lusts black conception, birth & progenie :
Incest is punisht, & that worthely :
Joves wrathfuU threats upon ApoUos seede
Scylumen, Chryses 't did to them succede
Lib. 4. Argument.
Love sends them packinge to their severall Loves:
The Curtizans welcome Liber Pater proves :
The vine founde out, with 's virtues manifold :
Antaephors acts so desperate & bold ^
Men u'sd to Theft will kepe their hands in ure
Hels scoffinge at him, he's forst to endure
^ This argument as prefaced to Book IV reads, "acts most desper-
ately bold."
i^ 4.'
V^^' • • •
/)M« /lr»l£
'■' » ' " -' /J / -
Folio from "The Ne'w'e Metamorphosis"
THE MANUSCRIPT 9
Lib. 5. Argument.^
The Pyren-Ladies, challenge th' Muses nyne
to singe w*** them, hkewise a triple trine:
Neptunes love to Tamisis greate is showne
he takes her to him, keepes her as his owne,
description of her: Th' Banquet of th' Deities
made by Pryapus : Capernus lecheries :
Lib. 6. Argument
Inconstancie describ'd : Theft punished :
Whoredom & Murder, both on one stringe lead:
Inventions many :^ Sodomy: Adulterie:
Pride: Superstition: Black Necromancie:
The Judge beinge bribed w*^ a golden fee
gave sentence wronge, for w*^*^ he 'scapt not free.
Lib: 7. Argument.'
Withred-old-age, doates on Childe-infancie
begettes two sonnes. Avarice & Jealousie
all three described vively to the Ufe :
Lust kils the Husband to enjoj^e the wife:
One trustinge Fortune-tellers is run wilde:
By Mercurie he is of 's wife beguilde:
Lib. 8. Argument.
Womans presumptuous wish, her pride abated :
Fish-stealers : Love-Nymphs: Empiric translated:
Rare Glasse : strange thinges : Secrets discoverers,
punisht w*^ busie bodie Reformers :
Gullions greate draughte: Xadleus iugUng tricks:
Murderers in prisson, love Dice, Drinke, IVIeri-trix.
Lib. 9. Argument.
Wars 't\vixt Arabian & the Egj^ptian Kinge
both lost their lives, their maimer buryinge :
^ This argument is not found before Book V.
* "Many inventions," in the argument prefixed to Liber 6.
8 This commences Part II of Vol. I or Add. MS. 14,825.
10 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Arabians Queene, rare paterne of True-love:
Of Womens praise, th' exceede Men it doth prove:
Adultery, Murder : Women monstrous Blabs
No secrets t' women, 'specially if Drabbes.
Lib. 10. Argument.
The Popes greate power: their Legends, Histories:
they keepe the Lawe, their severall Qualities:
Rome is describ'd, part of th' Popes revenewes :
Fantastick fashions : Blj^nd-Assinus ensewes :
The Ram-pie-f easte : Apollo, Mercuric
two Faiery Nymphes, chose for societie.
Lib. 11. Argum*:
Of Friendship: Travaihnge for uncertainties:
Executors, their lewde deceipte & guise
debasinge th' Heire, & making her turne Whoare:
Saturnia's Jealousie deceiv'd evermore:
Her curious searche: Corycus Cave describ'd
her findinge Jove, contendinge, reconcil'd.
. Lib. 12. Argum*:
, Cupid & Venus parlie, she him chides:
The Gods fall foule, the Parliament decydes
the Controversie : Cupid is banished :
Mischeif es that f oUowe : Merlyn prophesied
Gunnes are invented : Th' Fleete Invincible
saild back to Spaine, almost Invisible.
Volume II. Add. MS. 14,826 ^
Tomus secundus
Liber primus
Argumente.
England describ'd, th' happinesse in its Kinge:
Love seekes a Service, sure a wondrous thinge:
The crueltie of th' Tanner punished :
Cupids ill happe is nexte desciphered :
^ The arguments in this volume are given only before the respec-
tive books.
THE MANUSCRIPT 11
Love conquers Conquerers: Men of best desertes
are wrong'd by Women that have double hartes.
Lib. 2
Argument.^
Arcadias life & pastorall hapinesse
reproofe of Moderne tymes so great excesse :
The dismall danger of immodest wives
who chaste ones have, their treble happie lives:
The Merchants curse, the Pyrats wickednesse
RebeUions mischeife doth the next expresse.
Lib. 3. Argument.^
Cupid doth quenche the heate of Paphian f yres :
Mercury, th' Gods Spokes-man, humbly Jove desyres
to recall Cupid: who with 's Love returnes:
The pure chaste life of all your Cloystred Nunnes:
The Pry or seekes t' prevent the Prophesy:
Whiles th' Meale-mouth'd-Miller, was at 's venerie.
Lib. 4. Argument.'
A coy lasse woonne, after longe weary sute:
of Lustf uU persons the prodigious f ruite :
Presumption punisht by that very hande :
that humble Chemmish caus'd aloft to stande:
Diana's grove feld downe despightfuUy
the wronge revenged by that Deitie.
Lib. 5. Argument.*
Avarice & Theft are duely punished :
Loose huswives bragges of lewdnes 'sciphered :
Womens affections to their husbands greate:
Fonde wishers: Such as betters ill entreate:
Nuptials of Venus & fals play set forth:
Th' Tale-teller & her sister punisht both.
* Fol. 21. This is wTitten in the margin; the argument for Book I
has been repeated and crossed out. * Vol. II, fol. 37 verso.
« Vol. II, fol. 57. * Vol. II, fol. 72.
12 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Liber 6. Argument.^
Strange Fountaines vertues & their qualities:
Illiterate Priests, their foolish ceremonies:
Dumbe Dogges once barkinge, & their pronunciation:
Th' abuse of learnd Physicians vocation:
Children abusing Parents reprehended :
Wives runninge from their Husbands are condemned :
Lib. 7. Argument.^
Th' Incontinent doth the Suspected murther:
Lust, Murther, Gaminge, doe their owne deaths further:
Cales voyage is describ'd, their quick returne,
EngUsh humanitie, they the Countrie burne :
A Lady mourninge for th' losse of her Soime
slayne in the Conflict when to th' Gates they run.
Liber 8.^
Argument.
Returninge home from Cales to passe the tyme,
ech one must tell his tale in Prose or Ryme:
About Plantations first they doe begin:
Of th' Lottery: next of The Wittols sin:
A Ladies chastety vively set out:
A Lasses coynes punished sans doubt: &cy
Liber 9.
Argumente.*
Coactive love unsounde : of MessaUne
th' incontinence & boldnes most supine:
Craf te overcatcht & taken Unaware :
Th' Cockneis wantonnes, many in 't have share:
Ambitious women: greate presumption:
Lawyers Atheisticall dissimulation &c. &c. &c.
1 Vol. II, fol. 94 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 110 verso.
3 Vol. II, fol. 128.
* Vol. II, fol. 151.
Folio prom "The Newe Metamorphosis"
THE MANUSCRIPT 13
Liber 10. Argumente.*
Murder & Treason, Romes Religion:
The Plotte describ'd of th' Powder Treason:
The Traytors punishment, their goeinge to Hell :
Their change of office w*^^ became them well:
The Jesuits vertue lively is set forth.
Tyburne the Antidote : 'gainst Tyburs wroth.
Liber IL Argument.^
Of drunkards here a storje large you see
and eke of those that their Abettors be.
Of Gluttony the next, excesse in Feastinge
w''^ many after makes exceede in Fastinge.
Contentious Knaves, next here must have a roome
Calumnious-viperous-tongues from Hell doe come.
Liber 12. Metamorphosis.
Argumente.^
The Catalogue of ancient Brittish Kinges :
Prince Henries deathe : Elizas Nuptiallinges :
Some strange Mutations at the Princely Revels:
Of Avarice the most unmanly evils :
False-play under th' bourde nexte requires a roome :
And Pride w'^'^ heere doth for the last Dish come.
*The many vices of us derely loved
in this discourse I freely have reproved
nor for their greatnes doe I spare their vice
for that's exemplar, & doth more entice
I have not feared, their greate Masters frowne
though he goe clothed in his scarlet gowne
though thousand p[er3sons too he can comand
better then he, I have not held my hande
1 Vol. II, fol. 194 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 234.
8 Vol. II, fol. 249 verso.
* Vol. II, fos. 267 ff. This is the conclusion of the poem.
14 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
but have as boldly laid them to thy viewe
as they doe them comit, fearles, yet true
as Wantonnes, pride, bribery, buggerie
falsehood, rape, hastie-love, sodomie
bauderie, Curtezans-guise, superstition
Witchcraft, rash-promise-making, bold-presumption
incest, murder, insolence, inconstancie
rash-vowes, trust-betraying, necromancie
theft, avarice, usurie & druiikennes
incontinence, face-painting, inquisitivenes
ieolousie, blasphemie, crueltie, Piracie
moderne-excesse. Rebellion, periurie
cowardice, voaginge, fruites of lust, coynes
self-murder, fonde-wishers, & idlenes
ingratefuU-children, contempt of superiors
cosonage, quareUinge, abuse of strangers
lyinge, blab-tongue-women, inprecatinge
polutinge-temples, coactive-love, gaminge
ambition, Ladies-courtesie-abused
Executors deceipte not to be excused
Dissimulation, Womens-impudence
Romes chastety, must be in th' future tense
backbitinge, drunkards & their abettors
gluttonie, contentious-persons, debtors
craft-over-reacht, puttinge-children to Nurse
swearinge, Wittolrie, the Merchants curse
phisick-abus'd, Lawj'^ers dissimulation
excess-in-apparell, Heraldrie-abus'd, Treason
Papists-religion, Jesuits-villanie
equivocation, th' grounde of trecherie
Men valued by their habits in Kings-Courts
ilhtterate-Priests & Guls, Lots not for sports
the chastetie of all the cloystaed crue
superstitious of prophesies receive their due
betters envyinge, scorninge inferiors
mockers of prophesy, women-maligners
for many Popes dispense w*^ foulest sinnes
THE MANUSCRIPT 15
Pope holynes & chastetye, not worth two pinnes
Women-wearing-breeches, men-monstrous-masters
fantastick-fashions, Empericks, rash-censurers,
Vaine glorious-asses, irreconcihable-hatred
perfidiousnes, old dotards, friendship-abused
Warring t' enlarge Kingdomes, w*** many more
I reckon not all by well neere a score
a hundred vices I doe thinke at least
I've here displaid & against them protest
learne not to doe them, but them viewe w*^ hate
lest loving them, you them repent too late
if you the vice comit, you may expecte
the punishment : let not the one inf ecte
unles y' are willing, th' other should be inflicted
w*^ severall iudgments, note howe th' are afflicted
by these mens falles, I all men warne. Beware
for such as take noe warning, I not care
Nowe for conclusion therfore of the whole
to all alike, I've freely dealt my dole
& spar'd noe vice that came w^'^in my waie
so here I meane my weary course to stale
some more accurate will shortly tread the pathe
my rougher Muse already beaten hath
my leave I here of Poetrie doe take
for I have writte untill my hande doth ake
Finis.
After reading these arguments and concluding lines of
The Newe Metamorphosis, one can judge the amazing variety
of subjects with which the author deals. With the extrava-
gance of his period J. M. tells us with some arrogance and
self-praise, "I have spar'd no one." Indeed, he might have
written with truth that on some vices, especially those with
which he charged the Church of Rome,^ he had expended
^ The Church of Rome is attacked in every book, but especially in
Book X of both Vol. I and Vol. II.
16 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
sufficient vigor and virulent personalities to rival even the
sledge-hammer strokes of Skelton. And on the other hand
he metes out punishment for many of the sins of the flesh
with apparent lack of sincerity; the author often chuckles
audibly when telling with Rabelaisian gusto some particu-
larly salacious tale, and the metamorphosis given as a rec-
ompense for the wickedness of his characters seems a most
perfunctory afterthought.^
The second title-page ^ is followed by a dialogue between
the love god Cupid and the railing deity Momus, each one
contending for the privilege of being patron of the follow-
ing stories. Cupid hurls at Momus the abuse not only
typical of much of the early popular satire, but also so
abundantly found in the contemporary classical imitations
of Persius and Juvenal.^ Cupid cries :
"Thou foule mouthed, filthy, squite-eyed-cankered churle *
that against all doth envious speeches hurle
dost thou not knowe that I greate love can make
my pleasant easy yoake upon him take?
Howe then dar'st thou deny me to be Kinge
who stirre affection in ech livinge thinge?
But what dost here? why medlest w*^ these lynes?
say what is here whereat thy heart repynes?"
[Momus:] "I come to have them to me dedicate."
This contention! of the two gods is finally arranged by Mo-
mus' decision that both should be the patrons of the work.
He says :
1 There are many examples of tales of this description; excellent
examples are the stories told around the bed of the woman in confine-
ment, Vol. II, Book V.
2 Vol. I, fol. 3.
3 Examples are Hall's Virgidemiarum (1597), Biting Satires (1598);
Marston The Metamorphosis of Pygmalions Image ; and certain Satyres
(1598), The Scourge of Villanie (1598); Microcynican by T. M., etc.
4 Vol. I, fol. 4.
THE MANUSCRIPT 17
W[i]thin this booke is matter of delighte ^
that patronize thou: that w''^ is of spighte
my self will have, I will his Patron bee
and let the envious freely carpe at mee
take thou the one & I will have the other."
Their dialogue is followed by a few lines by "The Authore
to his Booke," showing that his intention had been to
dedicate his work to the great Elizabeth, —
That which was unto a Queene intended
is nowe unto, two powerfull gods comended ^
and in turn by the "Epistle dedieatorie" in just a single
couplet,
To Momus that same ever carpinge mate
And unto Cupid, I this dedicate.
The author himself, in his Prologue,^ next introduces
his book to the reader. After some self-praise and with the
customary smug complacency of the Elizabethan satirist,
he considers what shall be the nature of the work of which
two gods are patrons. "Bloody warres," tales of love,
histories of "Countryes strange," "rough Satyres" in
"rough hairy skinnes, and "buskind Seneca," each in turn
attracts him. Eventually he decides to combine these
motifs; to touch them "one & all." Indeed, he confides
to his public that The Newe Metamorphosis, because of its
variety of themes, is like,
... a Flemish Gallemanfrey made
of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote and blade.
With Ovid as his only "patterne" in a work of this nature,
J. M. determines to arraign "these impious tymes" in
"yrefull Satyres, clad in rugged rymes." He asserts that
he will not affect "curiositie of words," because his subject
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 4 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 4 verso.
3 Cf. Chap. VI.
18 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
does not demand it; in fact, he writes that he has "noe
Poets pleasinge smoth-fyl'd veyne," and that he travels in
a "hobbUng ryme." The Prologue closes with a prayer
to Jove and to the Muses for favor, and a request to "Ma-
tilda fayre" that she, who "rulest my harte," may aid his
"wandering quill" in its attacks on the "secretest actions
of rebyredness." At the close of the Prologue, in spite of
the twenty-four arguments to the respective books and the
diffuse conclusion to his work, the author again gives with
some detail those vices he especially condemns in this "world
infected with the goute."
This Prologue not only sheds additional light on the
nature of The Newe Metamorphosis, but it also brings to the
foreground two matters for some consideration. The
questions naturally arise both concerning the identity of
^'Matilda fayre," whom the author prays to "inflame my
braine with Love celestiall fyre," and — what is of far more
significance — the more technical subject of verse.
J. M. in his digressions throughout the body of his work
refers many times to this passion for Matilda.^ He writes
that all poets know love, and, indeed, that he had written
"these rough-he wen lynes" of The Newe Metamorphosis
because he was inspired with its flame.^ He places Matilda
prominently among those women famous for their virtue
and courage, and envies the man "who her enioyes at bed
& bourd," for, as he writes with some charm, she is of those
women,
they Roses redolent w*^^ sences chere
men but as pricks w°^ doe the roses beare
they are the swete Prim-roses of the feild
or Honey-suckles w"*^ most sweetnes yeild.^
1 Examples are Vol. II, fos. 3 verso, 4, 13 verso, 14, 41, 28, 31 verso;
Vol. I, Part II, fos. 49 verso ff.
2 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 49 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 19
The reader can see by the many scattered references to
Matilda that J. M. was no cold and formal lover delicately
playing with the tender passion according to traditional
rules. She was no illusive mistress of an Elizabethan
sonnet sequence. Still in those books of the poem which
clearly belong to the later years of composition, there is
no further mention of his youthful fancy. Whether the
poet had conquered his passion, or additional years had
proved to him that even "Swete Matilda" was no longer
needed for an inspiration to so facile and loquacious a writer,
must remain in doubt. It is a matter of interest, however,
that in his earlier work, in spite of those diatribes against
women — an inheritance to the Elizabethan from the
middle ages — there is much generous praise and, indeed,
reverence for the good wife, the noble mother, and the virtuous
maiden.^
In addition to the allusion to Maltilda, the author also
tells us in the Prologue that he will arraign the vices of the
times in "yrefull satyres, clad in rugged rymes." A little
later he writes that "Satyres are clothed in rough hairy
skinnes" and that
I have noe Poets pleasinge smoth fyld veyne
but a ragg'd Satyrists rougher hewen straine.
It seems, therefore, best to discuss at this point the versi-
fication of The Newe Metamorphosis and the general nature
of the work.
The poem is written in heroic couplet, fairly regular and
with comparatively few of the run-on lines so displeasing
to the eighteenth-century prosodist. Donne had first used
in England the decasyllabic couplet in formal satire;- but
^ For example see Vol. I, Part II, fos. 49 verso, 98, etc.
^ Cf. R. M. Alden, The Rise of Formal Satire in England, p. 83.
20 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
he did not possess the metrical felicity or epigrammatic
skill of his contemporary Joseph Hall, whose verse, Warton
wrote, "approaches to the modern standards."^ Indeed,
Hall attained to an eminent degree the central caesura,
the balance of the two halves of the verse, the completion of
sense in the couplet, found in the eighteenth-century sati-
rists. Spenser ^ and Drayton ^ had also used with consider-
able skill, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, the
heroic couplet for narrative work. And so J. M., with many
excellent contemporary models, and Chaucer's brilliant use
of the couplet also, possibly, in mind, chose "the best metri-
cal form which intelligence, as distinct from poetical feeling,
can employ."'*
It cannot be claimed that our author is eminently happy
in his use of verse. He often travels with a "hobbling
gait," and he himself is most candid in admitting his limi-
tations. Many times in the work, when fired by love of
country, of church, of his rulers, or of virtue, he plaintively,
and apparently sincerely, confesses his shortcomings as a
poet. He makes no claim that he is favored by his Muse.
He also has written hastily and revised seldom.
The following quotations are not the most happy examples
of the poet's versification, but they show him laboring under
genuine emotion:
Thou great all-seeing, & almighty-God
w"^ makest the wicked feele thine angry rod
thou great Creator of this globe-like world
w''^ thus o'' enimies into sea hast hurld
thou God of Battles & successful! warre
w'^*'^ thus our foes didst from o"" kingdome bar
1 Warton, History of English Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, Vol. IV, p. 367.
* Cf. Spenser, Mother Hubberd's Tale.
' Drayton, Heroicall Epistles, 1597.
* Woodberry, Makers of Literature, p. 504.
THE MANUSCRIPT 21
accept this sacrifice which I freely give
Most humble thanks, & \^dll doe, while I live
for this deliverance from o"" enimye
who us, religion, & thy selfe defie
Not unto us, oh Lord, not unto us
are praises due, thou art victorious
unto thy name, we attribute the praise
who for thj' chosen hast so many wayes
to work deliverance : oh defend us still
from Spanish rage, who toyle to worke us ill
oh still defende Mee & my Realmes from those
that both to Thee & us are mortall foes
as all o'' hope is in thy saving name
so evermore defende us by the same
Amen, amen, greate Jove graunt o'' request
so both in hfe & death we shalbe blest ^
Warre is a T3a-ant & a bloody one
it hath noe eares to heare the widdowes moane
it heares not infants, virgines, womens cryes
War 's deafe on 's eares, & blind on both his eyes
Warre seperates the Lover from his Love
and doth the husband from his wife remove
it barren makes & wastes the fertilst soile
it keepes the Husbandman from 's pleasing toile.
Warre doth expose to dangers infinite
't is noe boyes play in feild 'mongst foes to fight ^
Peace is a thinge of most admyred worth
Peace breedeth plenty & makes ech place florish
all lauded arts it teacheth & doth nourish
Peace maketh learning florish, goods increase
a sacred thinge is sweete according Peace
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 134 verso ff. A prayer of Elizabeth after the
defeat of the Armada.
2 Vol. II, fol. 127 verso. An only son has been slain in the sacking
of Cadiz, 1596.
22 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
it fiUeth men w*^ joye & boyes w^*" mirthe
it labo""^ to expell all-killinge-dearth
Peace filles w*^^ people, countryes, cityes, townes
it puts off Steele & clotheth men in gownes
Arachne in the Steele cappe, workes apace
her endles web w*4n a narrowe space.
Peace, plants & builds, & sowes & reapes increase
marryes, makes contracts, trafiques ore the seas
makes purchases be bought & marts frequented
makes toylesome husbandman take lease indented
peace plants reUgion, that soule-saving-arte
w"*^ mortals doth imortally converte. ^
Only once in the course of the work does the author
change from the heroic couplet. A martial lover has been
wooing in vain, and finally, driven by his passion to verse,
he addresses to his lady several stanzas of six verses of the
type used so melodiously in Venus and Adonis. This hero
finally won his mistress after using the aid of a very mis-
chievous god of love and the disguise of a page employed
also by Viola,^ Euphrasia,^ and Eroclea* in the drama of the
period. His stanzas pray for the transforming of his cruel
mistress into compliance. Following are the last two:
Which, Oh you Gods, that did Pigmalion ayde
ayde me I you beseeche on bended knee
move but her harte, (the w'^'^ so much hath straied
from my deere love) that she my love may see
& thou swete Venus, helpe too w**^ the rest
so shalt thou wyn me to thy deere behest.
1 Vol. I, Part T, fos. 66 ff. In praise of peace with Spain.
2 Shakspere, Twelfth Night.
3 Beaumont and Fletcher, Philaster.
* Ford, The Lover's Melancholy.
THE MANUSCRIPT 23
Grante, grante yee Gods, that her harde diamonde harte
may metamorphosed be to softest mould
greate Cupid thou helpe w*^ thy burning darte
she burne w*** heate, rather then frize w*** colde
grante, grante yee heavenly powers this my request
w*^^ if you doe I shalbe ever blest.
Even from the few preceding examples one can see that
when J. M. in the Prologue declares that his purpose is to
attack the folhes and sins of his contemporaries in "yrefull
satyrcs, clad in rugged rhymes" and that his verse is "a
ragg'd Satyrists rougher hewen strain," he is only following
that popular conception of his day concerning the rough-
ness and ruggedness of satires. His verse, it is true, lacks
the harmony and musical lightness of the true artist of versi-
fication, but the diction is strikingly free from labored man-
nerisms or uncouth affectations. He is never obscure.
This conception that the satirist must be savage, obscure,
and rough was traditional. Donne, one of the first, if not
the first, of the formal satirists in England, certainly shows
a contempt of regularity to an excessive degree, and his
measure is often characterized "by approximation to the
common speech of conversation."' But Hall,' on the other
hand, was metrically an artist of no mean skill; and his
rival Marston,^ although not so regular or polished in his
use of the couplet, yet possessed unmistakable power.
Persius, however, with his supposedly crabbed and snarhng
tone, was the model of the Ehzabcthan satirist. Marston,
indeed, speaks of the "Hungry fangs" of "Satires sharpes
line" and of the "knotty rod";"* but he also writes that
1 R. M. Alden, The Rise of Formal Satire in England, p. 83.
2 Virgidemiarum Size Books.
3 The Metamorphosis of Pigmalions linage and Certayne Satyr es,
1598; The Scourge of Villanie, 1598.
* Satire II, p. 269. Cf. Bullen, Marston's Works, Vol. III.
24 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
"I hate to affect too much obscurity and harshness, because
they profit no sense" and that there are some "deeming all
satires bastard which are not palpably dark, and so rough
writ that the hearing of them read would set a man's teeth
on edge."^ It was this conventional conception of satire
that made the author of The Newe Metamorphosis express
himself in the words quoted from the Prologue.
But even the statement that he is a satirist, or at least
primarily a satirist, can be further questioned. In spite
of his dedication to the God of Spight, as well as to Cupid,
and in spite of his oft-expressed assumption of an exalted
moral purpose,^ /. M. is surely no writer of formal satire
based on classical models, or even of the popular variety
indigenous in England since the time of the Conquest and
reaching its culmination in Piers Plowman and its most
extravagant expression in Skelton. He is rather a shrewd
author with his fingers on the pulse of a fickle public, trying
to strike a popular note to gain the attention of the restless,
sensation-craving Elizabethan. Cupid, we know, shares
the honor with Momus as patron of the work, and we also
read that no one was a "patterne" to him in England, but
. . . Ovid alone was he
that in this labo' did encourage me.
Later we are told that love drives his victims to poetry
and that the author, a slave of the god, has turned to this
work in acknowledgment of the chains he wears.^ Indeed,
the first title-page, reading The Newe Metamorphosis, Or
A Feaste of Fancie or Poeticall Legendes, shows indubitably
the original intention of J. M. The second title-page,
^ Preface to Scourge of Villanie, Vol. Ill, pp. 304, 305.
2 For example see Prologue, fos. 5 verso, 6 recto; Vol. II, Book XII,
conclusion.
3 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 25
reading An Illiad of Metamorphosis Or The Arraignment of
Vice, adds the idea of "yrcfuU Satyres":
t' unvizar those w'^** secretly doe maske
in selfe-conceipt, & their lewde actions showe
that all the world their villainies may knowe.^
And, even his naive confession that he does not possess the
time
... to bestowe,
more labo'' on them,^ the rather for I knowe
bookes of this nature being once p[er]used
are ther cast by & as brayed-ware refused.*
shows that J . M. intended no serious work of instruction
and edification, but rather purposed to give "matter of
delight" to many readers.
There is, however, much satire scattered throughout the
many pages, — satire that is pungently vigorous, bringing
at times a nicely etched picture before the reader, and again
satire that rivals in bitterness and coarseness the vitupera-
tive outbursts of the Reformation satirists. This may be
expressed in a verse or two, in long passages, or, as is
frequently the case, it may furnish the motif for a story
of some length. It may be linked closely to the material
concerning which the author is writing, or again a chance
word or an idea distantly related to the subject-matter may
be the occasion for a digression, often of interest.
J. M., in general, attacks the same abuses and vices found
in both earlier and contemporary satire. He adds Uttle
that is new. Women — their fickleness,^ love of gossip,^
1 Vol. I, fol. 5.
^ The books.
' Prologue, fol. 6.
* Vol. I, fol. G4 verso.
s Vol. I, Part II, fos. 42, 76 verso.
26 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
shrewish perversity/ extravagance and greed for money,^
incontinence ^ — are the theme of much jocose and con-
ventional abuse. The bawd and the courtesan are also
frequently held up in contumely. The gull, with his passion
for absurd fashions, his easy deception by a wanton wife,*
and his foolish affectations in diction,^ is also a popular
and recurring theme. Alchemy,^ idle superstition,'' "fake"
doctors,* the ignorance of the clergy,^ usury,^° gambling, ^^
drunkenness,^^ are all arraigned with considerable heat.
The nouveaux riches ^^ and the many worthless aspirants
to gentility especially arouse the author's anger. He
attacks them with vehemence, writing in scorn that
ech Kenil-raker for eleven nobles may
have Heralds nowe his riche coate to display
for Ravens all about the country flie
for bace reward to Patent-Genterie
nay to compell men that unwilling be
so he may have a mercinary fee
a fee of fewer markes he'le accept or rather
to make them Gentlemen that had no father
base & lowe ranke clownes. Artificers
for he his prey 'bove all respects prefers
so some are nowe gro'v\Tie ancient Gentlemen
who by the yeare of pounds can scarce spende ten
^ Vol. I, Part II, fos. 19 verso, 71 verso; Vol. II, fol. 124 verso.
» Vol. I, fol. 74; Vol. II, fos. 10 ff.
' Vol. I, fol. 75 verso.
* Vol. I, Part I, fos. 78 ff.; Vol. II, fos. 71, 138, 257 verso £f.
6 Vol. I, Part II, Book X.
» Vol. I, Part II, fol. 28 verso.
^ Vol. I, fos. 68, 76 verso; Vol. II, 53 verso.
8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 46; Vol. II, fos. 98 verso ff.
9 Vol. II, fos. 96 ff.
" Vol. II, fos. 258 verso ff. 12 Vol. II, fos. 234 ff.
" Vol. II, fos. 116 verso flf. i^ Vol. II, fos. 263 ff.
THE MANUSCRIPT 27
and base Mechanicks that but Barbers be
doe boast themselves nowe of their Genterie.
I merv'aile much that that same noble vice
should Gnats & Wormes unto its lure entice
that Butterflies & caterpillers should
seeke to adorne themselves in cloth of gold.
But when J. M. speaks of lawyers, of faithless magis-
trates and evil executors ^ robbing the orphan, of Spain, the
traditional enemy of his country,^ of traitors to his ruler,
and preeminently of the Church of Rome, ^' ^ we find a
ringing note of hearty sincerity in his utterances, a sterner
voice arraigning what he believes to be the most insidious
and dangerous enemies of England. The follies and idio-
syncrasies of his equals, the petty ambitions and mean-
nesses of those about him, excite a rather contemptuously
amused attitude; but traitors to his country and to his
religion call forth anathemas.
The Newe Metamorphosis, however, is essentially a col-
lection of stories, the majority of them of evildoers who
by some metamorphosis are punished by the enraged gods.
It is a continuation in verse of the popular work of Painter,
Fenton, Pettie, Rich,^ and their imitators, except that
Ovid and contemporary life often furnished the coloring
and motif.
1 Vol. I, fos. 83 ff., 88; Part II, fol. 97; Vol. II, fos. 75 ff.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 122 verso ff.
» Vol. I, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X, especially.
* In Vol. II, Book X, fol. 232 verso, J. M. speaks of his attacks on
the "Cathohque Church"; in Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91 verso he refers
to his attacks on the "holy Clarkes" of Rome. He considers all those
who recognize the spiritual authority of the Pope as " Catholique,"
and he attacks in the manuscript not only the ceremonies of the Roman
Chm-ch, but also its followers. In the following pages I use the term
"Roman CathoUc" in the accepted sense.
^ Sixteenth-century writers of prose tales based usually on Italian
novels.
28 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
J. M. knew that love tales, and especially stories of meta-
morphosis, were popular in England, ScilWs Metamor-
phosis had appeared in 1589/ Venus and Adonis had
certainly met with favor; there was a second edition of Hero
and Leander in 1600;^ and Marston's PygiJialion,^ in spite —
or possibly because — of its want of delicacy, became so
widely circulated that Archbishop Whitgift ordered it
consigned to the flames along with certain other offensive
works.^ Jervase Markham, in the same year that saw
Venus and Adonis given to the pubhc, entered in the Sta-
tioners' Register a work, now lost, called Thyrsis and
Daphne,^ which may have belonged to this class.®
J. M., planning to catch the ear of a volatile public,
combined this metamorphosis motif with its tendency to
indeUcacy and "wanton rhymes" to that of satire. Indeed,
he probably justified himself in this way, in anticipation
against the charge of licentiousness, by donning a mask of
conventional morality, which at times he frankly drops when
the piquancy and zest of a certain episode appeal too strongly
to him ^ or when his inherent moral strength and hatred of
certain kinds of cant and hypocrisy stir him from his pose.*
In addition to the popularity of the 0 vidian poem, offer-
ing both an opportunity for the excess mellifluence and for
^ Thomas Lodge.
2 Two editions of Hero and Leander had appeared in 1598, the first
edition containing only Marlowe's work.
^ The Metamorphosis of Pygmalions Image and certayne Satyres,
entered in the Stationers' Register on May 27, 1598.
* June, 1599. Hall, Guilpin, Cutwood, Davies, and Marlowe were
among those punished with Marston.
* Venus and Adonis entered April 18, 1593.
^ Francis Beaumont's Salmacis and Hermaphroditus was published
in 1602.
^ Many examples of this; one is Vol. 1, fos. 40 verso ff.
* Vol. I, Book X, is an example.
THE MANUSCRIPT 29
the tendency to indelicate details so attractive to the Eliza-
bethan, the word "Metamorphosis" was most popular as
a title during the decade before the death of Elizabeth and
in the first years of the reign of James. Besides being used
in the poems before mentioned, we find the popular trans-
lator of Orlando Furioso shocking and amusing the not too
fastidious court by his A new Discourse of a Stale Subject,
called the Metamor'phosis of Ajax, ^ which, chiefly because
of its satiric grossness and broad humor, was printed three
times in one year. In 1600, the year that J. M. commenced
his work, we find the "semi-allegorical" and semi-satiric^
Transformed Metamorphosis of Cyi'il Tourneur, which in
its attacks on the Roman Catholic Church,^ its allusions to
Essex' Irish campaign,^ and its conclusion dealing with the
coming of James as the defender of Protestanism strikes
many notes touched in The Newe Metamorphosis. The same
year also saw the entering in the Stationers' Register of the
dramas, Maids Metamorphosis and Loves Metamorphosis.
This popularity of the Ovidian poem, of satire, of the
metamorphosis title, and especially of collections of stories
undoubtedly prompted J. M. to the choice of the subject-
matter and the title of this manuscript with the result
that The Newe Metamorphosis reflects to a marked degree
the tastes of the period.
As J. M. writes in the Prologue that Ovid alone was his
"patterne," the reader might expect that in the pages fol-
lowing he would find a series of Ovidian stories. From
1 Published 1596. Mr. Steevens in his edition of Shakespere, 1793,
Vol. 5, p. 354, says that "a licence was refused for printing this book,
and the author was forbid the court for writing it."
"^ Tourneur's Plays and Poems, ed. Chui-ton Collins, Vol. II, has
an analysis of The Transformed Metamorphosis.
» Stanzas 43-50.
* Stanzas 57-71.
30 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Ovid J. M. has borrowed, indeed, the idea of the metamor-
phosis, which he uses indiscriminately and with charming
naivete for virgins either betrayed by lustful gods^ or
escaping from lecherous pursuers,^ for wantons,^ gluttons,*
gossips,^ drunkards,^ lawyers, gamblers,'' gulls,^ dandies,^
murderers,^*' Spaniards," Irish kerns, ^^ witches,^^ friars and
nuns,^* popes,^* and many others belonging to the land of
fairies, mythical Egypt, classical Greece and Rome, or to
the poet's own environment. Indeed, the great Elizabeth
herself is found after death among the gods,^^ and the la-
mented Prince Henry ^^ becomes "a perpetuall Roy" ruling
a heavenly kingdom and benificently aiding the English
people.
J. M. almost invariably, however, in contrast to Ovid,
1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 8 verso ff.
^ Vol. I, Part I, fos. 42 recto and verso. Lyaeus, changed to the
grapevine, is honored by Bacchus.
^ Vol. I, Part I. Bacchus turns wanton Sabella to a "tamarisk-
tree," her husband, a sodomist, to an elder.
* Vol. II, fol. 245 verso.
5 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 34 verso.
« Vol. I, Part II, fol. 36 verso.
7 Vol. II, fol. 18.
« Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 recto.
* Vol. I, Part II, fol. 78. Mercury places the dandy, always chang-
ing the fashions, into the inconstant moon.
i« Vol. II, fol. 20.
" Vol. I, Part II, fol. 134.
12 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 19 to 21 verso. The evil kerns are changed to
wolves.
" Vol. I, Part I, fol. 80 verso. The Scottish witch is changed to a
crocodile, her helpers to crabs.
" Vol. I, Part I, fos. 11 and following. Cupid changes a wanton
nun to a smoking altar, the monk to the fire on it.
« Vol. II, Book X.
16 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 136 verso.
" Vol. I, Part II, fol. 232 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 31
uses the act of metamorphosis for punishment of sins against
the moral code. In this way his subtitle, The Arraignment
of Vice,^ is justified even when the author has been relating
the gayest and most risque of fabliaux. But there are
several exceptions to this practice. For example, the pure
Matilda,^ wooed by the lecherous king Mempricius, even
after the death of a devoted husband with whom she had
fled disguised, refused to listen to the insidious blandish-
ments of her ruler and the garrulous old bawd who panders
to his lust. To escape her fate, by a clever ruse she jumps
into a huge fire, made in honor of the king, and is changed
by the kindly Juno into the Salamander and
from hurt by fyre, was made for ever free.^
Another example of a kindly metamorphosis is found in the
romantic tale of Arabianus and his Phoenicia.^ He was
the ardent young king of a country near the "Pigmies
land" who had become inflamed with love by seeing the
picture of the daughter of the emperor of Germany. He
wooed her with gifts and eventually won her. Later he
was killed in single combat. The young grief-stricken
wife flung herseK into the funeral pyre and was metamor-
phosed into the Phoenix. A more pleasing end of love
awaited the faithful and virtuous shepherd and his wife,^
who, after a life which exemplified all the Arcadian virtues
and which was filled with incidents recalling Penelope and
her suitors, Joseph and Potiphar's wife, and the pirate
adventures of the Spanish Main, were translated into two
stately palms on opposite sides
1 Vol. I, fol. 3.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 9 verso ff.
3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 16.
* Vol. I, Part II, Book IX, to fol. 48 verso.
» Vol. II, Book II, fos. 21 verso ff.
32 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
of Erymanthus sweete, a Ry\'er A^yde,
and
though a broad River did betweene them run
their arms grewe over it, where still they meete
w*** kynde embraces they ech other greete.^
But J. M. not only borrows the idea of a metamorphosis
from his master Ovid; he has also taken bodily many
incidents from the Roman poet and at times parallels closely
the Metamorphoses. Indeed, several of the tales in The Newe
Metamorphosis center about an amorous god or goddess,
and in theme, at least, these might take their place in the
work of his prototype. Jupiter woos a not coy Venus in
the guise of a sparrow,^ very much in the same fashion
as in the semblance of a swan he betrays the innocent
Leda. Neptune, having satisfied his desire with AmaUna,^
the lovely daughter of Venus and the lusty helper of Vulcan,
in order to prove to her the pleasures of each sex grants her
the favor of becoming a man. This, of course, recalls
Teresias ■* with his dual sex. The Grecian goatherd, Malisco,
rapes his daughter Oechaia,^ and then, in order to conceal
his crime, tears out her tongue and brutally maltreats her.
He falls victim to his lust in much the same manner as
Tereus,^ who attacks Philomela, the sister of his wife.
The vivid picture of guilty love and fear in both stories
has much in common. And as Tereus, in ignorance, eats
the body of his young son, so a brutal father, driving his
heir and the maiden to whom he had been betrothed to
1 Vol. II, Book II, fol. 37.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 14 verso.
3 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 50.
* Ov-id, Metamorphoses, Book III, Fable V.
6 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 30 ff.
6 Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book VI, Fables V and VI. Pettie in his
A Petite Pallace of Pettie His Pleasure, tells this for his second story.
THE MANUSCRIPT 33
suicide by his cruel treatment, feasts on the body which
had been transformed into a carp.^ Again we find Leda,
after she had transformed the country clowns into frogs
because of their disrespect,^ travel-stained, foot-sore, and
hungry, with a babe in each arm, reaching Germany.'
She comes to "The Hage" and
... as she thus travailed
of a greate Lady she did begge for breade
who in ech arme when she a Babe did spie
protested she w'^^ more then one did Ij'^e
that they were not the children of one father
she often cald her Whore, so much the rather
because she bore two children at a birth
nor spake she iestingly, nor yet in mirth
but w*^ vile taunts & contumeUous words
w*"^ her malignant spirit her affourds.
Leda is angered at these undeserved gibes. She prays to
her lover, Jove, to punish the virulent Margarita,fand as
a result
she fell in travaile & therew*^ was tyred *
the Midwife & the neighboures all aboute
of her deliverance began to doubt
greate prayers she had, at length was brought a bed
and of Three hundred sixty five deUvered
of Boys & girls.
The poet tells the reader this event occurred in the year
1276 and that
1 Vol. I, Part II, folio 7 verso.
* Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book IV, Fable III.
3 Vol. II, fos. 83 verso ff.
* Vol. II, fol. 84 verso.
34 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
neere unto Hage they buryed doe lye
riclily intombed for better memorie
w*'* in the Monastery of S* Barnardo there
who doubteth it, may see it plaine appeare
upon the tombe, their pictures you may see.^
1 have quoted this surprising and eminently adequate
punishment because it is an excellent example of how the
author, with the amazing freedom of a typical Elizabethan,
at times mingles classical figures and motifs with medieval
legends, with metrical romances, with the ribald jests of
the fabliau, with the witchcraft theme, and with the erotic
and intricate intrigue of the novelle.
Another striking example of this freedom of treatment we
find in two stories of Bacchus, who, journeying among
mortals, comes in the morning to a London house of ill
fame. Here he meets ^
A crookt old Beldame . . .
a foule mishapen-platter faced-blayne
as black as Luce . . .'
who tells him of her charming Puten, who was so ardently
sought by the London gallant that
White Fryers, then was left quite unfrequented
Clarton-well,^ Bancks-side & Pickt-hatch, repented
that ever she so comonly was knowne
for that their houses out of use were growne.^
^ Marie of France, in Le Fraine, has the same incident. A woman
who upbraids another with the charge of unfaithfulness because of
twins also bears twins.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 38 ff.
' Luce, the bawd, has akeady been mentioned. Cf. Vol. I, Part I,
fol. 23 verso.
^ Waldron, in the margin of the page, has written Clerkenwell.
* Vol. I, Part I, fol. 38 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 35
And she calls:
"Mai Newberry, come thou in Putens steade
come forth Franck Twiste, my wench w*"^ ycalowe haire
for such encounters she will soon prepare
Bes Lister come my prety nymble Trull
And this same Bacchus, pictured here as a callow youth,
a little later becomes the Ovidian god pursuing the nymph
Lyaeus,
. . . whom he followed fast
she as fast, did fly away aghast
even as the Harte flees by the grey hound chased
So runs Lyaeus ^ . . .
feare makes more speede then hope, yet he runs fast
feare runs for hfe, hope runs for pleasures taste.
The amorous Bacchus urges her to rest; he assures her of
his consuming love and of her future abode among the
gods, but his prayers are of no avail:
Her armes and fingers were made branches then
broade leaves grewe upon her fingers ten.
She becomes the grapevine, and her lover exclaims:
"Thou shalt be Bacchus love aUve & dead
(said then the God) and henceforth from my head
He shake the yoie garland & put on
thy comfortable branches."
The first adventure of the god and the fawning panderess
is both Elizabethan in atmosphere and treatment — an
original bit of realism ; his love and pursuit of the frightened
nymph are close parallels of the graceful story of Apollo
and Daphne, or of Pan and Syrinx.^
There are many examples, however, in The Newe Meta-
1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 42 ff.
^ Ovid, The Metamorphoses, Book I, Fables XII and XV.
36 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
morphosis of fabliaux in which we find the Olympian deities
taking no part, or, at least, appearing in a perfunctory
fashion. These tales, it is true, are coarse, full of the broad
wit and rough fun of the Jest Books, and they deal with the
customary themes of the profligacy and pertinacity of
women, the ignorant superstition of the illiterate, and the
crassitude of the gull; yet, on the other hand, the best of
these are so filled with a gay sensuality and a joy of life
arising from the virile personality of the author that they
show J. M. at his best as a story-teller.
"The greatest masters of the farcical romances cannot
measure swords with Chaucer,"^ and so it is fitting that
J. M., reveling in this genre, should not only pay a small
tribute to
. . . S'" Jeffr'y Chaucer he
the first life given to o'' poesie ^
but also should borrow plan and incidents, and, with slight
modifications, a story from the Canterbury Tales.
A wrinkled and feeble Saturn woos a very youthful
Lady May ^ in much the same manner as the amorous
Januarie of Chaucer, in spite of Placebo's admonitions,
prepares to marry in his dotage.'* Like his immortal prede-
cessor the absurd old man apes juvenihty and anticipates
with senile lust his marriage.^ Another time J. M. tells
of a husband who was paid for the injury done to his honor
by money which he had given to his wife, recalling the
wily Daun John of the Shipman's Tale,^ and of a shrewish
^ Ten Brink, Hist, of Eng. Lit., Vol. II, p. 154, English translation,
2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 verso.
3 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 2 verso ff . This is given in Chap. VI.
^ Chaucer's Works, Globe edition. The Merchant's Tale, pp. 203 ff.
5 Vol. II, fos. 138 ff.
^ Chaucer's Works, Globe edition, p. 84. Boccaccio, Decameron,
Eighth Day, Novel I, has the same incident.
THE MANUSCRIPT 37
wife who ruled her husband and who boasted that
"I'le never give consent to be inferior
rie equall be at least, if not superior
I scorne t' obey my husbands stoute comande
rie make him stande & pray w*** cap in hande
I'le make the house too hotte for such an one." ^
She even surpasses the garrulous, whimsical, and immortal
wife of Bath in that
Six husbands too, before this she hath had
this was the seaventh . . . ^
A godly Parson also is pictured. He is one of the reckless
company of a ship of war who decide to relieve the tedium
of their voyage by story-telling. The Shipmaster,
... a corpulent fatte Swadde
a bon-companion, a right Joviall lad,'
voluble and contentious, had proposed
"... a project rare
come my brave hearts, y' noble tales prepare
se how w' are freinded w*^ swete pleasant gales
now have at Chaucers Canterburie Tales
As I went to Canterbury to St. Beckets shryne." *
This Parson had justly rebuked the coarseness of some of
his companions and had discussed learnedly and at length
of the commonwealth, lots profane or favored by God,
and the planting of colonies in Virginia and Ireland. The
arrogant Master, taking umbrage at some of his remarks,
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 88 ff.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 88 verso.
3 Vol. II, fol. 129.
* Vol. II, fol. 130 verso.
38 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
exclaims that the Parson "lewdly" plays with bishops'
orders and king's lawes, and remarks that
"what er is don, you Puritans mislike
though not w*^ fists, yet w**^ y"" tongues yow strike." ^
This good Parson not only resembles the godly man
found in the immortal pilgrimage to Canterbury, but like
the latter, who is suspected of being a Lollard,^ he bears
the contumely of being called a Puritan. J. M. in creating
this character certainly had Chaucer in mind.
One tale, however, follows Chaucer even more closely.
The immortal Reeve's Tale, in which is displayed a "talent
for invention, characterization, and motives, and a comic
power such as were never again attained in this class," ^ serves
as the model. J. M. certainly does not possess the con-
structive or analytic genius of his master, and his story of
the superstitious Bolton,^ fearing a recurrence of the Flood,
and of the wanton wife and the lusty miller, whose intrigue
forms a realistic subplot, lacks the masterly presentation
of its model. Still there is a serious attempt at characteriza-
tion which, with the extravagant comedy intermingled
with much rather flippant irony, leads to the cleverly man-
aged and dramatic denouement and shows the author of
The Newe Metamorphosis in his merriest vein.^
Indeed, it is in the fabliau that our author seems to be in
his element. There are many tales of this type in the col-
lection, some marred by an obscenity which is not rendered
less objectionable, as in the case in Chaucer, by great art.
1 Vol. II, fol. 137.
2 Chaucer's Works, Globe edition, p. 79.
^ Ten Brink, Hist, of Eng. Ldt., Vol. II, p. 154, English translation.
* Vol. II, fos. 51 verso ff.
^ This tale is given almost entirely in the selections in Chap. VI.
The story of the man who awaits the end of the world by flood is also
told by Valentin Schumann, 1599. Cf. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer,
p. 174.
THE MANUSCRIPT 39
In fact, a rollicking and irrepressible Steward of a ship's
company, who revels in drink and bawdy stories and re-
joices in poking fun at his superiors, even offends by his
wanton narrative the none too nice Master of his ship, who
exclaims :
"for bawdy tales, thou most compare w*** any
sure Italy like thee affourds not many." ^
But The Newe Metamorphosis does not only draw from
Ovid, Chaucer, and fabliau material; the author, with that
facile aptitude of his contemporaries of gleaning whatever
might be of interest to them from all possible sources and
of refurbishing their material in such a way as to make it
difficult to recognize, although it may be full of haunting
reminiscences, has levied contributions from a variety of
material, both classical and romantic, historical and legen-
dary, religious and profane. The result is that The Newe
Metamorphosis is a perplexing potpourri of learning, super-
stition, and popular motifs which must be disentangled in
some degree in order to understand the manuscript.
J. M., in addition to the influences mentioned, admires,
. . . noble Spenser nowe of fairest fame
whose glorious workes imortalize his name.^
Spenser not only furnished names to The Newe Metamorphosis
and affected the plan of the poem in important ways,^
but J. M. introduces a chronicle of British kings, com-
mencing in place of Brute ■* with Adam, God's
. . . earthlie eldest son
and this our lynage even from God doth come; ^
1 Vol. II, fol. 166 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91.
^ Discussed on page 46.
* Spenser, Fairy Queen, Book III, Canto III.
« Vol. II, fol. 249 verso.
40 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
numerous conventional marriages of rivers, recalling the
union of the Thames and Medway; ^ and a description and
prophesy of the seer, Merlin, ^ resembling in many details
that of Spenser.^ He also tells a story of love and of
tourneys,'* of a fair lady's gift to her knight, and of a
snow-white palfrey, which, could take its place in metrical
romance or among the adventures of The Faerie Queened
Of course, /. M. lacks the exquisite melody and the delicate
fancifulness and spirituality of Spenser; he possesses,
however, a vigor and a certain sturdy directness which have
an undeniable charm of their own.
The pastoral also attracts the author of The Newe Meta-
morphosis, The most characteristic shows the land of
Arcadia,^
Arcadia is a country much renownd,
with wooing shepherds and a lovely shepherdess. But the
author also introduces in this story English shires, pirates,
Turks, and the Roman Catholic Church.
In this Arcadia a happy shepherd and his wife, in spite
of prosperity, hved in a modest way and did not
. . . like to Courtiers clad in silke and gold
strout in puft pride, as full as they might holde.
In addition to these fabliaux, romances, pastorals, and
Ovidian tales, the manuscript affords the reader even a more
varied choice. The Muse Thalia speaks of inventions; ''
the chronicles furnish a stereotyped list of kings ;^ the defeat
^ Spenser, Fairy Queen, Book IV, Canto XI.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 115 verso.
^ Spenser, Fairie Queen, Book III, Canto III.
* Vol. I, Part II, fol. 40 verso.
* The author mentions in this story his "author," Vol. I, Part II,
fos. 21 verso ff.
« Vol. II, Book, II, fos. 21 verso ff.
7 Vol. I, fol. 69. 8 Vol. II, fol. 249 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 41
of the Armada/ the sacking of Cadiz/ and the Gunpowder
Plot ^ are, examples of historical narrative; semihistorical
pirates and robbers/ the medicinal qualities of various
mineral springs/ and even a "town and a gown" prank at
Cambridge ^ help to lend variety to the narrative; and
demonology is represented by Irish witches. He writes:
... in Riddles & in Seeves they ride
upon the face of Neptunes foaming browe
(for not on foote, or horsebacke ride they nowe)
w*^ flaggons full of merry-makinge-wyne
w''^ to more iollity make them enclyne
that on the sea, they freely did carrouse
they feare not drowning though the billowes souse
their leaking vessels, making them to daunce
nowe high, nowe lowe, as barbed horses pranse.
That is a token sure a wytch to knowe
they will not drowne though yo" in sea them throwe.'^
There are also in this manuscript many tales exempli-
fying the Reformation attitude toward the Papacy and the
Roman Catholic Church. Mars and Vulcan have sordid
intrigues with wanton nuns/ and dissolute priests urge
chaste wives to dishonor.^ Again, the popes themselves,
dignitaries of the Roman Church, and plotters, such
as the soldier of fortune Fawkes and the crafty Garnet, ^°
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 123.
2 Vol. II, fol. 119.
3 Vol. II, Book X.
* Vol. I, fol. 66, and Vol. II, fol. 32 verso.
6 Vol. II, fol. 95 flf.
8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30.
^ Vol. I, fol. 77 verso. This story is taken from a pamphlet, Newes
from Scotland, printed for William Wright. Cf. Pitcairn's Criminal
Trials, Vol. I, pp. 213 ff. J. M. has followed his original very closely.
8 Vol. II, fos. 46 ff.
9 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 20 ff.
1" Vol. I, Part II, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X.
42 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
are arraigned at times with direct abuse; again, they play
a part as the vilHans in some story. Indeed, Garnet is
given the place of Charon and Pope Sextus that of Cerberus
in a hell which is peopled only by Roman Catholics.^ The
author himself, possibly influenced by Virgil and Dante,
visits the lower regions,^ where he sees all former popes
and their supporters.
The stories of intrigue — the narratives of unfaithful
husbands, of giddy wives, and of determined lovers — fill
many pages of The Newe Metamorphosis. This type of story
was undoubtedly drawn from Italian and other continental
sources or from their numerous English translations. In
the second volume, where J. M. forgets more frequently
his "patterne" Ovid, and the lustful Olympians appear
only to effect a metamorphosis, fabliaux and novelettes
appear in rapid succession ^ and often with happy effect.
One exceptional story of intrigue — a melange of many
motifs — leads us to an enchanted palace, pictured with the
wealth of detail which we find in the House of Fame or in
The Faerie Queene, and also to a burly negro succubus.^
When the reader finishes The Newe Metamorphosis, he
may well agree with the author ^ that in this diverse material
one will find something to interest, something to please.
He may weary of the stories, but the frequent digressions,
the satire, sometimes conventional, often refreshing, and
the homely reflections and quaint folklore keep his attention
from flagging.
Let us now turn from the types of stories found in this
manuscript to some of the authorities J. M. mentions in
1 Vol. II, fos. 211 ff.
2 Vol. II, fos. 212 ff.
3 Vol. II, Books VIII and IX.
* Vol. I, Part I, fos. 71 ff.
* Prologue.
THE MANUSCRIPT 43
his work. In the Prologue, we have seen, he states that
Ovid was the only one.
that in this labor did encourage me;
but in addition to the author of the Metamorphoses, his
debt to others is undoubtedly large. Few of his stories
are of his own invention. His originals could be discovered,
possibly, in French fabliau,^ in classical and Oriental
collections, in legendary folklore, in Italian novelle, and in
the chronicles. It is true, however, that at times he draws
from contemporary incidents. He takes what he wants
freely, and he acknowledges no obligation. But when his
source may add to his reputation of learning and to his
genial tone of authority, J. M. mentions it with scholarly
care, often referring in the margin to the page whence he
drew his information. Plutarch ^ — both his Lives and his
Morals — is frequently mentioned ; the former work espe-
cially is repeatedly referred to.^ Phny's Natural History *
often helps to embelhsh the narrative. There are refer-
ences also to Stowe,^ Purchas,^ Capgrave,^ Milles' The
Treasurie of Auncient and Moderne Times,* Ortelius' Maps,^
^ Les Cent Nouvelles contains several stories with the same incidents.
Boccaccio, Decameron, Tenth Day, Novel IV, was probably the source
for /. M's story of the lover finding his mistress in a tomb. Cf. Vol.
II, fos. 156-161 verso. Turbeville also tells this story in his Tragicall
Tales.
^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 48 verso, and Vol. II, fol. 105, are examples.
' Examples are Vol. I, Part II, fos. 71 and 85 verso.
* Vol. II, fol. 224 verso.
f- Vol. I, Part II, fol. 34; Vol. II, fol. 195.
« Vol. II, fol. 117 verso.
' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 64.
* Vol. I, Part II, fol. 49. There are many references to this work.
It was published 1613-1619.
' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30. His Theatrum Orhis Terrarum was pub-
Ushed 1570.
44 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Ralegh/ Suetonius,^ the Portuguese Acosta,^ and Chau-
cer.'* The conscientious tailor-chronicler and diligent maker
of maps, John Speed, not only is used frequently as an
authority,^ but he is paid an admiringly labored tribute.
Cupid being banished from ''his regall throne"^ comes to
Faiery,
a fertill countrie & a pleasant soile,
and those who doubt the truth of this,
The Theatre of Brittan will resolve straiteway
w^^ w*^ rare arte doth admirably expresse
thinges of most moment leaving out the lesse
whose Authors' fame shall never die though he
w*"^ Speede be turned to ashes speedilie.
In addition J. M. shows a cosmopohtan and much paraded
knowledge of rehgious controversialists and writers on Church
doctrines. He refers to Stapleton,^ Sucliffe,^ Bishop Jewell,^
1 Vol. II, fol. 228 verso, History of the World.
2 Vol. II, 169 verso.
3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 119, in the text.
* Vol. II, fol. 220 verso.
6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30 recto and verso. John Speed (1552 ?-1629) .
In 1598 he presented "divers maps" to the queen; in 1600 he gave
some to the Merchant Taylors' Company, of which he was a member;
in 1607 he helped Camden with his Britannia, and in 1608-1610
he made many new maps of England and Wales. He published,
1611, Theatre of the Empire of Great Britain. His History of Great
Britain continues the Theatre. Dictionary Nat. Biog., Vol. LIII,
ed. 1898.
6 Vol. II, fol. 3.
^ Thomas Stapleton (1535-1598), a great Catholic controversialist
and zealot. Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62.
* Royal chaplain to Elizabeth and James. His Actes and Monu-
ments, 1562-1563. Vol. II, fol. 230.
^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 70 verso. Apologia pro Ecclesia anglicana,
1562, Englished, 1564.
THE MANUSCRIPT 45
Fox/ Durantus,^ the Bible/ and to numerous other authors
and works, both English and continental, on the mass,
Church service, and saints.'*
The question next arises, Is The Newe Metamorphosis
a helter-skelter collection of miscellaneous stories, having
no connection except the almost invariable metamorphosis
and the tendency to digression as regards satire? J. M.,
to quote from the Prologue again, candidly confessed that
in "this book" he "only aymde" "for some strange thinge
to write "^ and,
even as a Flemish Gallemanfrey made
of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote & blade,
so shall the reader find in the pages to follow "some bloody
warres," of Love's "soft charme," of "Countryes strange,"
of "rough satyrs" to help purge "the wicked world to lewd-
nes most enclyn'd," of "a comicke-lover," of "deaths
unkynde," of government,
of Princes, Lords, of Peisants & of Clownes
strange murderinge & massacres, & poisons fell,^
all intermingled to form Aii I Hade of Metamorphosis or an
Arraignment of Vice. But he also attempted to provide
a frame for this material; he did not plan to write a series
of disconnected tales.
J. M. had read widely. He knew Chaucer, Spenser,
Ariosto,^ and undoubtedly most of the contemporary col-
lections of stories so popular on the continent and in Eng-
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 74 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62.
3 Vol. II, fol. 227.
* Vol. II, fol. 53 verso.
* Vol. I, Part I, fol. .5 verso.
* These quotations are from Vol. I, Part I, fos. 5 ff.
' He refers to the story "of fayre Genevra," Vol. II, fol. 142.
46 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
land. Spenser, indeed, and The Faerie Queene influenced
him in his plan. The prologues to the cantos of the great
epic romance, its intricate background of minor episodes, and
its crowded and often confused canvas clearly affected
The Newe Metamorphosis. In addition, the great Ehzabeth
is called Gloriana,^ London, Troynovante,^ and England,
glorious "Fayrie" land,^ is the favored playground of the
sportive gods. Still J. M. knew too well his limitations as
a poet to attempt to model a work to be read only once and
then cast aside * after a poem which was written to "emu-
late," perhaps to "overgo," Orlando Furioso, acclaimed by
the Renaissance as the heir to the epic glory of Homer and
Vergil. Our author was a soldier, a man of the camps, a
soldier-adventurer, taking part in the sacking of Cadiz.^
He had in mind no subtle allegory, no colorful dream of
chivalrous fairy knights. His plan, however, to connect
his heterogeneous material was fairly ingenious and in
harmony with the tone of his work.
The first title-page shows that he intended to write only
twelve books. But as years passed his material grew;
his interests in a variety of affairs demanded expression;
his lack of proportion, indeed of taste, led him always deeper
into the Elizabethan quagmire of prolix digression, and,
in consequence, his original frame for his work, always frail,
broke under the strain. Eventually he frankly discarded
his plan.
This original frame of The Newe Metamorphosis opens on
Olympus. The pleasure-loving gods have wearied of sopo-
rific heavenly joys, and so they plan to seek a new field in
1 Example of this, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8.
2 Example of this, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 52 verso.
^ An example, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8.
^ Vol. I, fol. 6.
6 Vol. II, Books VII, VIII.
' THE MANUSCRIPT 47
which to exercise their prerogatives. They decide to visit
"Fayrie," the lovely land of great Gloriana. J. M. tells us:
Olympick Gods, set on a merry pinne
seke out a place themselves to solace in
they Fayrie chose as fit'st for recreation
the tyme accordinge for it was rogation
Rogation weeke, when schoole boyes walke the bounds
w^^ Pedagoge & Priest, & doltish Clownes
May month it hight, the merry month of May
when ech one w*"^ his Love doth May-games play
then into Faiery did the Gods discende
whose pleasantnesse w*^"^ Tempe might contende
w*** Egipt Lords atire they them disguise
and many tricks, & many means devise
howe best they might the Faiery Nymphs beguile:
Goblins & Elves hving in that riche soyle.^
But Mercury proposed to the complaisant merrymakers
that they should draw lots for a king or a queen for this
adventure. Cupid is successful, but the war god objects
"by rage & furie led." He exclaims:
"And thinkest thou Cupid, th' apish God of Love
shall have preheminence o're the Gods above
thou fitter art to be the Pigmies Kinge
or friskinge Crickets, to sitte still & singe
in chymny corners: come let's chuse a newe
an able Kinge to rule a lusty crewe
I am afraid it ever should be said
that we were subiecte unto a boy-mayde."
Mercury, because of his rash advice, is consigned to be poor,
to "consorte" with "yon aple-squire," and Cupid is de-
clared a fit companion for "Maya's sonne." Hermes is
... to doe wonders thou (Cupid) to pubhsh it
he to deceive & slylie to beguile
and thou to prate, & cogge & lye the while
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 7.
48 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
had yo*^ a Punck fit to consorte yo" nowe
& old Menander at this instant too
were nowe aUve, oh here were heavenly worke
the Punck & Love & Mercury to perke.
Uppon a stage with comick cheatinge tricks
w^^ would the eyes of the spectato""^ fixe
and eke their eares unto attention drawe
till on a sodaine (like unto a flawe
after a sylent calme) laughter breakes forth
to prove his worke to be of wondrous worth
certes you two may well goe walke together
it is greate pitty yo" should ever sever.^
The lusty Mars, the impetuous soldier, now calls for new
lots. The gods, each hoping to gain Cupid's robbed honor,
consent, for the poet writes:
A sweete thing 'tis, to swaye th' imperiall mace
that every one may stoope & give him place
though it be mixte w*^ troubles manifold
greate care him weares, that weares a crowne of gold
the meane life is from greife the most exempt
and fewer cares doe dwell where is contempt
where is not much to loose is noe greater feere
hono'' & riches, loade a man w*^ care.^
Bacchus wins this contest, and he sends the two gods,
Mercury and Cupid, who were "secluded from the elec-
tion, "^ through "Faiery Lande" in order
to give the Nymphs & Elves to understande
that Egipts Kinge desyred much to see
their nymble sports & fyne agillitie
would they but daine to come unto his tents
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 7 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8.
' Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8.
THE MANUSCRIPT 49
(His tents were pitcht neere Isis ^ silver streames
where great Gloriana w*^ her radiant beames
made the trees fruitful!, & the earth increase
and rules her land in bounty, ioye & peace,
Longe may she live & rule, that rules so well
whose many vertues all her subiects tell
& when from us she's taken to the skie
oh let her there governe immortalie.^
The foolish inhabitants rush to the tents of the disguised
gods;
but fewe there were that knewe of Love the toile
for Cupid never did Fays harte beguile
nor tread a steppe till now in Faiery lahde
here Gloriana did alone command;
and the mischievous Cupid boldly practices his wiles on
both the gods and these "Fays."
As Nymphs w*"^ Shepherds did together dance
one gave a sigh, an other cast a glaunce
& still they singe this burden to their songe
Aye mee I love, aye me I love too longe
such uncouth passion they n'ere felt before
they therfore as mishaps did them deplore
yet were they loath to lose their pleasinge paj'ne
in greatest losse they found a sweetninge gaine.^
With this happy and fanciful introduction to the holiday-
loving gods and the innocent people of Fairyland, we are
brought to the first stories — the passion of Bacchus, of
Jove, and of Apollo, caused by Cupid, for mortal nymphs.
Mars' arrogant conduct in the casting of the lots leads to
many perplexing complications. Mercury, consigned to
beggary and thievery, craves revenge,* and Cupid, at first
1 Isis is the Thames. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 9.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. ■• Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8 verso.
50 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the wanton boy, drives in sport the gods to many new loves;
but later when Mars, aided by the other gods, plots against
the amorous Jove ^ who has forgotten the duties of Olympus
and his cherished protege, the god of Love, then, Cupid with
purpose and in order to defend himself, shoots his arrows
at all the deities. Even aged Saturn,^ hoary and feeble,
falls victim. Juno, however, escapes these machinations *
and goes to seek her erring spouse, whom she brings back
to a desolate Olympus. Mars and his party make war on
their lord,^ and for many days cannons roar, and both
heaven and earth are laid waste. A parhament is finally
called, and Cupid, much against the will of Jove, is banished
for twelve years.
But this sentence leads to further complications. Jupiter
mom-ns for the playful boy. At his instigation Cupid shoots
only "dull-pointed-Busbolts," so that all passion, both
among gods and mortals, is quenched and
to Venus sacrifice none had devotion.
In spite of all remedies,
noe man desyred once to touch his wife
whom formerly he lov'd as deerest life.
Then swarmed not as nowe the bastard broode
whom every towne is fainte to feed w*^ foode
people still dyed, none borne them to supply. ^
Finally the gods implore Jupiter to punish Cupid for his
insolence. Jove refuses this request. He censures them
for their past obstinacy when
"None pleaded then for Love, but all cry'd out
banish that bastard . . ." ^
and speaks at length concerning their presumptuous con-
1 Vol. I, Part I, Book III. " Vol. I, Part II, Book XII.
» Vol. I, Part II, Book VII. ^ Vol. II, fol. 39 verso.
3 Vol. I, Part II, Book XI. « Vol. II, fol. 44.
THE MANUSCRIPT 51
duct in questioning his rule.^ When he consents to recall
Cupid, both mortals and gods are overjoyed,^ and the happy-
earth is again repeopled.
Mars, however, still bears resentment. Driven by-
Cupid, he again leaves Olympus to woo a renegade nun.
He not only wins this frail Adiana, but he also brings to a
conclusion the principal frame of The Newe Metamorphosis.
From this rivalry of the gods and the banishment of
Cupid ^ unroll sometimes with only the slightest connection
in the inconsequential manner of a lesser Ariosto, and
again with a direct interruption, most of the tales of the
first fifteen books of The Newe Metamorphosis. Jupiter
may visit the filthy kerns * in Ireland, the Spanish Armada ^
may sail for England, the queen may visit the Thames in
which the city gamins are noisily playing,^ still some tangible
connection can be traced to the gods' visit to Fairyland and
their contention for leadership.
Often we have a frame within a frame; a new occasion
will be presented for additional tales. Mercury, visiting
Jupiter in order to urge him to aid Cupid, is asked to tell
to the ruler of Olympus and his temporary mistress some
stories; ^ later, as the exiled beggar, hungry and foot-sore,
he meets Apollo to whom he relates his experiences in Rome,
dilating on the sins of the Pope and his followers.^ Cupid,
again, after his banishment, furnishes by his adventures
1 Vol. II, fol. 44.
2 Vol. II, fol. 46.
' A banishment of Cupid was entered in the Stationers' Register by
James Roberts, May 31, 1594. Cf. Arber, Vol. II, p. 308. This work
may have suggested this plan.
* Vol. I, Part I, Book III.
* Vol. I, Part II, Book XII.
" Vol. I, Part I, Book V.
^ Vol. I, Part I, Book III.
8 Vol. I, Part II, Book X.
52 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
among mortals, the material for several tales of cruel land-
lords, of clownish boys, of a shameless pander,^ and of his
own passion. To give another example of a frame within
a frame, nine fair daughters of the Rhine, boasting of their
superiority to the Muses, with a greedy advocate as judge,
enter in a story-telling contest with the nine daughters of
Jove, in this way giving us eighteen stories. It is true
that the daughters of the Rhine return to the Cupid and
Mars theme; but the Muses, on the other hand, in a most
unmuse-like fashion, prattle unconventionally of inventions
and civilization, and also of witchcraft in Scotland, of
fishermen in Kent, and of intrigues worthy of a place in
Italian novelle.^ Indeed, the author himself, once with a
loquacious neighbor ^ and again with no external assistance,*
breaks into the narrative and adds to the collection.
In the second volume ^ J. M. practically abandons his
original frame. He naively admits, after relating a tedious
history of some rivers and their intriguing offspring, that
this strange discourse did weary me to write.
A friend, however, who has been absent for years, enters
and readily consents to tell of his adventures in Egypt
and elsewhere.* The contention of Cupid and Mars is
henceforth discarded. It is true that the metamorphosis
idea persists, and the heavenly deities still figure occasion-
ally in some of the stories; but the author now invents new
framework as the occasion demands, often with a surprising
evidence of originality and contagious humor.
After this friend had finished his adventures with an
attack against a mushroom "dapper squire" who had sold his
timber in order to support his extravagances, another
1 Vol. II, Books I and II. " Vol. II, Part II, Book XI.
2 Vol. I, Books V and VI. ' Vol. II, fos. 64 ff.
3 Vol. I, Part II, Book VII. « Vol. II, fos. 64 ff.
THE MANUSCRIPT 53
companion, "that comes to visite me," ^ becomes the source
of several tales which show J. M.'s powers at their best and
which arc linked by a happily executed, if daring plan,
undoubtedly borrowed from the French.^ This visitor
declares that neither the market nor the mill, as most men
say, are the favored places for gossip, but
"... where one in travaile fall
There's secrets, newes & lyes, the divell and all
more matters are broacht there a hundred fold
and there more tales & nipping lyes are told." '
And so the reader is introduced to the bedside of a "Lady
of greate note" who "in travaile fell," and into the society of
a withered midwife and her garrulous neighbors. It is an
hilarious, free-spoken company, eating and drinking by
the bedside of the mother and her son, and the stories that
are told make this an orgy of bestiality, relieved, it must be
confessed, by that contagious vitality and exuberant de-
light in life which soften so much that is offensive in our
early literature. /. M. also has visualized this scene with
real skill in characterization and with an admirable verve.
The links, especially, which connect the stories, show so much
contagious gayety that the reader must regret that our
author did not attempt more work of this character.
J. M. himself furnishes the occasion for the stories fol-
lowing the metamorphosis by Venus into butterflies of the
most daring of these gossips. He has the "colhck,"'* and,
in consequence, visits the famous mineral springs of England
1 Vol. II, fol. 72.
^ This satire on women at childbirth can be found in Quinze Joyes
de Manage and in Middleton's A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 1630,
Act. II, Scene IV, f. In 1622 there appeared in France Les Caquets de
I'Accouchee closely resembling this frame.
' Vol. II, fol. 72 verso.
* Vol. II, Book VI.
54 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
in order to find a remedy.^ As a result of his travels he
adds several tales to The Newe Metamorphosis. An attack
on an ilhterate clergyman and on an old woman — and on
quacks in general — who with one remedy kills many and
cures very few, are the most interesting of these, because
they contain many allusions to contemporary superstitions
and manners which are of some interest and value to the
student.
When J. M. has visited the various springs and has
returned to his home, all attempts at a plan are given up
for a time. He frankly states at the beginning of Book VII
that the reader will leave England and "survey"
if other nations nought affourd us may
of matter worth the notinge . . . ^
But after a story concerning a faithless husband, a visiting
friend, as an auditor, is again made use of to continue this
work. J. M. first tells to this companion three stories
exemplifying the abuse of love, of fighting, and of gambling,^
and then he turns to a realistic description of the Cadiz
expedition,^
Whilest o'' Eliza of blest memory
did in this kingdome hold the soveraigntie,
of which he had been an eyewitness, one of the many gay
young nobles and reckless spirits who had flocked to the
standards of Essex, Howard, Ralegh, and Vere. His friend
is soon forgotten, and this assault on the power of Spain
gives rise, in turn, to a new frame, and to many more tales,
some of the happiest in the long collection.
Chaucer's famous pilgrims undoubtedly suggested his
1 Drayton's Poly-Olbion, 1613-1622, also describes these springs.
2 Vol. II, fol. 111.
3 Vol. II, fos. 114 fif.
* Vol. II, fos. 119 flf.
THE MANUSCRIPT 55
new plan; in fact, /. M. mentions the Canterbury Tales}
The reader is taken on board a ship returning to Plymouth,^
filled with its motley crew and its Spanish plunder. The
Shipmaster,
... a corpulent fatte Swadde
a bon-companion, a right jovial lad
unto the Captaine thus began to talke
(a merry Mate, his tongue new oild did walke) ^
asking that each one should "some merrie storie tell."
The taciturn Captain consents. Then judges are appointed,
a prize offered, and the puritan Parson, who draws the
shortest lot, is called on for the first story. The Shipmaster
overflows with a rough but contagious bonhomie. He
enrages the Parson with a rollicking tale of a drunken
priest. Parson Darcie, who because he sometimes would
"fly out for a purse"* ended ingloriously by means of the
hangman. Indeed, he interrupts the Parson's learned
discourse on lots, on planting colonies, and on affairs of
state, both so often and so rudely that a quarrel arises and
peace is made only by means of the Captain. After some
changes in the original plan, plainly shown by the addition
of several characters and the insertion of many pages,* the
"Surgion" throws down the gauntlet to the more respectable
members of the party by declaring,
"there is no woman but she false will play." ^
The Captain exclaims that is "a lewde conceite," and as
a result of this divergence of views, many take sides and
agree to relate incidents illustrating their viewpoint.
Besides those previously mentioned, we have stories by
the "Boteswayne," the "gunners Mate," a "Voluntarie
1 Vol. II, fol. 130. " Vol. II, fol. 132 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 129. 5 There are 27 pages numbered 284.
" Vol. II, fol. 129. « Vol. II, fol. 138.
56 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Gent," a "Gent," the Steward, who twits and shocks them
all, the Gunner, the "Masters Mate," the "Cooke," the
"Apprentice of London" that ran away from his master,
the "Drum," the "Clarke of the Bande," the "Purser," the
"Trumpet," the "Liuetenante," and the "Anciente" who
scarcely comes to the close of a romantic story of a noble
maiden brought up by a forester, recalling in some of its
incidents Fawnia ^ and her successors, when he cries:
". . . So, Ho, M"" I have 'spied lande
the best deserver, due rewarde commande
that was y'' promise, 'fore we goe ashore
let th' best deserver have rewarde therfore." ^
After some dissension, a judge is chosen,
the M'' drewe the lot, he cald for 's chayre
one made of cloth of gold, most riche, most fayre
w*^*^ he from Cadiz brought, there down he sate
like a fat Abot, being made Pope of late
a scarlet Spanish gowne he dons likewise
w**^ drinking he made red his nose & eyes
who putting on a face of gravetie
seemed to give sentence w*^ integritie.^
This judge gave a "Pistolet" to the "Cooke," and all the
company, although they "were displeased and began to
frette," did likewise. Indeed, the quick return to England
had prevented many from sharing in the contest.
The author slyly adds that the Cook, who had told of
an unscrupulous youth skilled in astronomy and medicine,
... hit the M' in the bawdy veyne
he therefore thus did recompence his paine.^
The reader may marvel why many of the tales did not
receive recognition if a "bawdy veyne" were a virtue to
the Master.
1 Greene, Pandosto. ' Vol. II, fol. 194.
2 Vol. II, fol. 192 verso. * Vol. II, fol. 194.
THE MANUSCRIPT 57
J. M. evidently relished being one of this company, and
we must regret that he is not openly one of the contestants.
Possibly, he may have been the " Voluntarie Gent" or even
the young gentleman who had joined the expedition.
The last three books ^ of The Newe Metamorphosis are, as
a whole, both more serious in tone and more bitterly
ironical than the preceding. There is Httle attempt at any
framework.
J. M. commences Book X with the words:
Unwillingly my sportful! muse forsakes
her merry theme, & nowe a crosse course takes,^
and he confesses his lack of "abillitie," that "the taske"
he undertakes "is too great for me," and that
a sportefuU humor I much better love
then dire events w''^ mischeifes-broode doth move.
The author then tells of the Roman Catholic plots against
James, "a glorious Sun," and
. . . the Sol that warmes this Isle
the Jove that doth it keepe from Papists spoile
the Mars that fighteth to maintaine o'' seas
the Mercury whose wit & wisdome shines
w"** all true heartes, to him in love combines
to speake divinely. Our true Israels lighte
for whom Jehovah from above doth fight,^
and after further eulogy, he writes of the Gunpowder Plot,
. . . the foulest facte, ere acted out of Hell
w"** to expresse, alas, I have no skill.''
. . . the most abhorred acte
was ever dreamed on, much lesse don in facte
the Powder Treason, or The Divell in th' vault
the Divells worke in Hell, you well may call't.
1 Vol. II, Books X, XI, XII. ' Vol. II, fol. 197 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 194 verso. " Vol. II, fol. 199.
58 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
This is described with much historical accuracy, and the
future punishment of Fawkes, Garnet, and the rest of "th'
damned crue" is dilated on at great length. In fact, the
author travels to hell in order to learn more of the execrated
popes and their proteges. At the end of this book he writes,
Nowe of the Catholique Church my leave I take
for this whole booke, I've written for their sake.^
Throughout The Newe Metamorphosis there are constant
attacks on the Roman Catholics, and Book X of the first
volume consists mainly of a picture of the vices and profli-
gacy of the "Roman crue," told by the exiled Mercury to
Apollo. But J. M. had reserved his most bitter ridicule
and virulent abuse for the instigators of the Gunpowder
Plot and for the Jesuits.
In the last two books of the manuscript there is again no
attempt to connect what is written with the stories preceding.
Here further invectives hurled at the Papacy, and certain
favorite types, such as the usurer, the gull, and the drunk-
ard, appear once more. The author is the speaker and he
uses, in general, the tone of verse satire, English in atmos-
phere and moral in purpose. He seems, in these books,
to prefer some incident illustrating the folly or evil he assails.
In Book XI he speaks of drunkenness, gluttony, and malice.
In Book XII, after a long and tedious list of kings which
reaches its climax in the conventional eulogy of James I,
the death of the young Henry and the marriage of Princess
Ehza,2 events of importance to the hated Romanists, call
forth rather fulsome expressions of sorrow and patriotic
fervor. Indeed, the latter event, attracting curious throngs
from all England, furnishes the occasion for an ironical
picture of some of those who were present, among whom
were
1 Vol. II, fol. 232 verso. ^ j^ 1612.
THE MANUSCRIPT 59
a proper tall red bearded Gentleman,
his name I thinke was gallant Captaine Swan.
a captain in tyme of peace is like a Nun
there living, where Religion is undon
sometymes I see them walk in Paules in buffe
w**^ great gold lace, all poynted, mary muffe!
much hke to Panderesses when their game is over
our Captaines oft from Calais come to Dover.
Captaine, onne tyme it was a noble name
but nowe growne base, for they themselves defame
by haunting Pickthach,^ White-fryers hot-houses,"
who lost his dinner because " a pigge came to the table," ^
a gallant Monsieur Roe, who made all effort to, '
... be apparreled most sumptuously
to weare his beavo^ hat he will not faile
and in the same his huge great-Ostridge-tayle
his crjinsen satten dublet on he puts
in w*^^ he straitly did imprison'd guts
but breeches had he none that might it suit.
an hundred goodly Oakes he straitewayes sold
his scarlet breeches to lace thick w*** gold
so thicke the scarlet yo" could scarcely spie
Oh brave breeche-case, adorned gorgeoushe
the man in court yo" knowe is not regarded
good clothes there are sildome tymes discarded
let th' man be bad, so be his cloathes be brave
nay though he be an obscene filthy knave
he shall have entrance & be much respected
when vertuous men in poore clothes are neglected; '
* Evidently Pickt-hatch, the quarter of London celebrated for
thieves and prostitutes to which Shakspere refers in Merry Wives, II,
2, 19.
2 Vol. II, fos. 256 ff.
3 Vol. II, fol. 257 verso.
60 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the gorgeous lady who ruined her husband in order to dazzle
the court ;^ and also the courtesan, the usurer, and several
others. In these pictures, vigorous and coarsely graphic,
we find the influence of the work of Donne, Hall, Marston,
and the contemporary satirists. The three last books,
indeed, are more closely allied to the school of conscious
satire. There is little attempt at story-telling, but rather
an effort to arraign vice.
We see how in the course of the many years spent in
composition the original plan of The Newe Metamorphosis
suffered alteration and in time was frankly discarded.
The author at first undoubtedly intended to give to a not
too discriminating public a series of stories modeled more or
less freely after Ovid. For these he invented, or possibly
borrowed, the frame of an exiled Cupid taking revenge on
the gods. When he tired of this, or when, as it is probable,
his work had outgrown so frail a frame, he planned anew,
with conspicuous success in two instances, his background
for the bedside stories and those told on the return from
Cadiz. But his many interests, and also an unflagging
zeal and amazing facility in narration tended to obscure
the main action of his work by complicated and quickly
changing episodes and long digressions. He frankly aban-
doned both frame and theme when either hampered him in
his narrative or when he was roused by what he feared was
sapping the manhood of his countrymen. As a result the
work suffers in many ways. It is rambling and diffuse,
but it assuredly gains from its very faults a vigorous and
attractive spontaneity.
The question may now rise — and it would be most
natural — whether the author of The Newe Metamorphosis in
its nearly one thousand closely written pages and consider-
ably more than thirty thousand fines does not furnish some
1 Vol. II, fol. 257 verso.
THE MANUSCRIPT 61
interesting and possibly important information concerning
his contemporaries. It has already been stated that the
chief value of the manuscript lies in its many allusions to
manners and fashions, to its pictures of gulls, of gamblers,
of drunkards, and to social and economic conditions in
general. It also is of some significance to the student of
history; for the Cadiz adventure is told by an eyewitness,
and the Gunpowder Plot is dilated on at length by one who
seems intimately affected. Then it must always be kept in
mind that /. M. is a teller of stories of no mean abihty.
But, on the other hand. The Newe Metamorphosis adds
nothing to our knowledge concerning those giants in letters
and affairs who made the reign of Elizabeth and her suc-
cessor radiant. We have seen how the author refers with
careful accuracy to Stow, Speed, Purchas, and other con-
temporary writers of chronicles, travels, or religious works
when by so doing he may gain authority and a reputation
of learning; but to the field of belles-lettres he shows much
of the characteristic reticence of his age.
He speaks of his greatest contemporary in one careless line,
it seems 'tis true that W. S. said,^
and he undoubtedly had Venus and Adonis in mind, since
he parallels it with some closeness in one of his stories. -
To Spenser he gives more honor. He writes of
. . . noble Spenser nowe of fairest fame
whose glorious workes immortalize his name,'
and, as we have seen, he has borrowed many suggestions
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 51 verso. Miss Toulmin-Smith claims this
refers to Shakspere because of the scansion as well as the initials. Cf.
Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. I, p. 89. Waldron had assigned this to
Shakspere in a marginal note.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 63 flF.
3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91.
62 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
from The Faerie Queene} Chaucer is spoken of several
times,^ once, indeed, in a contemptuous manner when the
author classes the Canterbury Tales and other "fables"
of "fayned miracles" with the Golden Legends, Vitas Pa-
trium, Gesta Romanorum, all "Lyes made to blynde the
simple ignorant."^ He makes happy mention of
. . . kynde Kit Marlowe, if death not prevent-him,
shall write her story, love such art hath lent-him,*
and a certain flower,
Starlight, cald for noble Sidney's sake
Sidney the flower of matchlesse poesie
who doubts thereof to mende it let him try
the Poets glory & the soldiers pride
who with blest soules in heaven doth no we abide, ^
calls forth a eulogy of the author of Arcadia. Indeed, J. M.
shows the influence of Sidney in many ways. He places
one of his stories in Arcadia,^ and in a list of friends he
mentions conspicuously Pyrocles and Musidorus. Another
time, in speaking of poets, he enumerates several of his
predecessors and contemporaries. Unfortunately, he pos-
sessed neither the ability nor the fineness of taste of Drayton,
otherwise he might have given the reader another Epistle
to Reynolds. '' He writes:
Surrey & Sidney, hono' of o' age
were both of them of noble parentage
yet not their hono"" makes them Uve so longe
as doth their poems & learned pleasinge songe
1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 39 ff.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 62 verso, 90 verso; Vol. II, fos. 130, 230 verso.
8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62 verso.
* Vol. I, Part I, fol. 39 verso, J. M. is speaking of Hero.
5 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 57 verso.
« Vol. II, Book II.
^ Drayton, Epistle to Henry Reynolds, Esquire.
THE MANUSCRIPT 63
before their time S"" Jeffr'y Chaucer he
the first fife giver to o'' poesie
Phaer & Twyne, Harvy, Gaskoyne, Goldinge
Lydgate, Skelton, Grange, Googe & Fleminge
Warner & Watson, France, Churchyarde, Whetston
Monday, Lilly, Britton, Danyell, Draiton
Chapman & Jonson, Withers auncient Tusser
w[i]th the divine soule-pleasinge Silvester
and noble Spencer . . .
He continues by saying that these help
, . . the world t' adorne
w[i]thout the w[hi]ch, men live like folk forlorne
though these doe labour much their curious lynes
w[hi]ch art unto invention well combines
and take much paines their Readers to dehghte.^
In spite of the author's garruHty and the years spent in
the composition of The Newe Metamorphosis, these few
scattered lines give the only mention of the outstanding
literary figures of his time. This indifference, as it seems
to the reader, would be inexplicable if it were not so typical
of the period. J. M.'s chief concern is to dazzle his audience
with his wealth of unusual knowledge, with his quaint
folklore and worldly wisdom. He sees no reason why there
should be an interest in the men of his day.
J. M.'s references to the theater are even more scanty
and unsatisfactory than these tributes to his predecessors
and contemporaries. In the Prologue, he speaks of the
"publique stage," of those who "fawne, flatter & dissemble,"
and resemble most "theatrians."^ A little later in a shrewd
bit of observation he writes:
Uppon a stage w*^ comick cheating tricks
w*'^ would the eyes of the spectato""^ fixe
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 90 verso ff. '- Vol. I, fol. 5 verso.
64 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
and eke their eares unto attention drawe
tell on a sodaine (like unto a flawe
after a sylent calme) laughter breakes forth
to prove liis worke to be of wondrous worth. ^
Again we hear of a gull who mispronounces his words and
squanders his money at the "Curtaine," of a spendthrift
gambler who
... at the Playhouse he tooke cheifest roomes
and then did take on him the gentleman,^
and of the "painted Players" who had not lived "twenty
yeare" and in spite of their youth showed consummate
abiUty in their profession. These references are brief;
they consist usually of only a few hastily written verses,
but they at least make clear that the author was familiar
with the life of London and had an intimate knowledge of
the stage.
After this survey of The Newe Metamorphosis, it can be
said briefly in conclusion that this manuscript was written
between the years 1600-1615; that it consists of a hetero-
genous collection of stories, written to appeal to the popular
fancy, stories, however, interspersed with much satire and
frequent digressions concerning subjects of interest to the
author; that the author provided an ingenious, if fanciful,
framework for his material which he eventually discarded,
inventing new frames as the occasion demanded; and that
the value of the work hes in its popular appeal, in its genuine
power in narration, and in its allusions to contemporary
fashions and life.
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 7 verso. « Vol. II, fol. 117.
CHAPTER II
CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT
The diffuseness and great length of The Newe Metamor-
phosis undoubtedly deterred from closer scrutiny those
students of English literature whose attention had been
attracted to it. The critical history of the manuscript is
brief; it is of importance, however, when the question of
authorship is considered, for various conjectures have been
made by those who have examined this work, concerning
the identity of the author.
Francis Godolphin Waldron,^ writer, actor, manager of
theaters, and antiquarian, had this manuscript - in his
possession. Possibly he intended to edit some parts of it.
He has made frequent marginal notes in pencil, some of
which are of interest, because of his knowledge of sixteenth-
century manuscripts. Indeed, I can safely say that these
notes and not the manuscript furnish the grounds for many
of the statements of later scholars. Waldron has written
at the side of J. M., gent.: "Que?^ — John Marston, Jervase
Markham, James Martin, John Mason," evidently with the
purpose of ascertaining the author.
Joseph Haslewood,^ an insatiable collector of fugitive
tracts and one of the founders and the early historian of the
^ 1744-1818. Cf. Dictionary Nat. Biog. He was both editor and
bookseller. He issued in 1792 The Literary Museum, or Ancient and
Modern Repository, a volume of some antiquarian importance, and the
Shakspearean Miscellany (London 1802), a collection of scarce tracts.
» His initials, F. W. G., are found in Vol. I, Part I, fol. 11; Vol. II,
fol. 234.
3 Page 1, Book I.
* 1769-1833.
65
66 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Roxburghe Club, follows Waldron in an interest in The Newe
Metamorphosis. In his edition of Barnahee's Journal,^
he established, to his satisfaction, the authorship. He
quotes some lines from the manuscript describing Giggles-
wick Spring in Yorkshire,^ and states dogmatically that the
author is John Marston.^ And John Marston, the J. M.
of the greatest prominence and interest at the time the
manuscript was written, overshadowed for the remaining
years of the century all other claimants.
The authorities of the British Museum purchased the
manuscript in 1844 from Payne and Fosse.* In their Sale
Catalogue for 1843 under Manuscripts is the following de-
scription: "No: 230. The Newe Metamorphosis, or A
Feaste of Fancie, or Poeticall Legendes, written by J. M. gent.
in 3 vol. Very neatly written, in the original vellum bind-
ing. £15. 15s. 4to.
"These volumes formerly belonged to Waldron, who has
made many marginal notes. He conjectures the author's
name to be either John Marston, Gervase Markham, or
John Mason, but the author himself says.
My name is French, to tell you in a word.
Yet came not in with conquering William's sword.
"It is doubtless the original autograph of a very curious
1 First vol., 1817-1818; 2d vol., 1820.
2 Vol. II, folio 95 verso.
Yorke-shyre. "At Gigaleswick, there many springes doe rise
that ebb & flowe in strange & wondrous wise
when 'tis at highest, 'tis nyne ynches deepe
at ebbe it doth but one ynche water keepe
it ebbes & flowes, ech quarter of an houre."
3 Lowndes in his Bibliographer's Manual of English Literature also
ascribes the poem as doubtful to Marston. He cites Haslewood.
^ Vol. I, No. 14,824, has on the flyleaf, "Purchased of Payne and
Foss, 1844. (3 vols.)."
CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT 67
poem. The title page is dated 1600; but a passage in Vol. I,
p. 215, shows that that part was not written until after the
death of Prince Henry in 1612."
Mr. J. O. HalUwell-PhilUpps, while he was editing the
works of Marston, was the next to mention this "long,
rambhng poem." He doubts that it is Marston's, although
"parts of it resemble in some degree his style." ^ The
statement that the author's name is French, Mr. Halliwell-
Phillipps declares, is a "condition inapphcable to that of
Marston." ^
The Reverend Alexander B. Grosart ' in his Ufe of Marston
wonders if the poet had a prior love in "his earUer and past
days." Because of the "dainty and gracious verse-address
'To his Mistress'" in The Metamorphosis of Pigmalion's
Image, and also because of the references to her in the poem
itself,* he says that "if other things were equal, I should have
1 Works of John Marston, 1856, 3 vols., edited by J. O. Halliwell,
Vol. I, p. xix.
* Halliwell-Phillipps, in -his Life of Shakespere, 1848, p. 148, note,
quotes a few lines from The Newe Metamorphosis, Vol. II, fol. 46, con-
cerning boy players. This passage had been clearly marked by Wal-
dron.
"But howesoer men may a while dissemble
their spightfuU stomacks, they therein resemble
but painted Players, trembling on the stage
w^^ beard & perywigge made fit for age
who have not scarcely liv'd out twenty yeare
as they I say doe loade w*^ age appeare
and yet are boyes when those are t'ane away."
It is interesting to compare these lines with the epitaph which Ben
Jonson wrote at the death of Salathiel Pavy, a child of Queen Eliza-
beth's chapel, who although he died at the age of thirteen "yet three
filled zodiacs had he been the stage's jewel."
' The Poems of John Marston (1598-1601), edited by Rev. Alexander
B. Grosart, 1879, in Occasional Issues, Vol. XI, p. xxv, note.
* The Metamorphosis of Pigmalions Image, pp. 7, 14.
68 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
supposed the MS. poem in the British Museum, entitled
The Newe Metamorphosis, or a Feaste of Fancie, and An
Iliad of Metamorphosis or the Arraignment of Vice, written
by J. M. gent., to be the production of Marston in fulfill-
ment of his semi-promise 'to his Mistress.' But there are
difficulties external and internal in assigning these MSS.
to him." But Mr. Grosart does not make clear what these
difficulties are.
Mr. Bullen ^ was the next to mention this manuscript.
He confesses that he has only "a superficial acquaintance
with this poem," pleading its great length as his excuse.
Like Mr. HalHwell-Phinipps, he declares that Marston's
name is not "French," and further he states it is a "good old
Shropshire name." He appreciates the importance of the
poem, saying it is a "fine field for an editor; virgin soil,
I warrant."
Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, an earnest scholar, was the
last who examined the poem. She states that it is full of
allusion "to the passing history and manners of those days"
(Shakspere's).^ She gives some of the introductory argu-
1 The Works of John Marston, A. H. Bullen, 3 vols, 1887. Cf . Vol. I,
pp. liv-lvi.
2 Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. I, p. 89; Vol. II, pp. 480-488. Miss
L. Toulmin-Smith, in claiming that certain lines refer to Shakspere,
has followed a note made by Waldron.
"who hath a lo\'inge wife & loves her not
he is no better then a witlesse sotte
let such have wives to recompense their merite
even Menelaus forked face inherite.
Is love in wives good, not in husbands too
why doe men sweare they love then, when they wooe?
it seems 'tis true that W. S. said
when once he heard one courting of a Mayde
Believe not thou Mens fayned flatteryes.
Lovers will tell a bushell-full of Lyes."
Cf. The Newe Metamorphosis, Vol. I, Part II, fol. 51 verso.
CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT 69
ments of the various books, makes hasty mention of one or
two of the tales, and decides that it may be doubted that
either Marston or Markham could be the author. Her
reasons for this statement are few and not conclusive.
As both Marston and Markham had written before 1600,
Miss Toulmin-Smith claims that neither of them would
speak of his "infante Muse," ^ and that Markham "of whom
it is said 'his thefts were innumerable' is surely excluded by
the declaration, —
' to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe.' "
Miss Toulmin-Smith closes the list of commentators on
The Newe Metamorphosis. The author has remained un-
known. In the following chapter I shall try to point out
those passages in the manuscript in which J. M. is auto-
biographical or in. which he clearly shows his tastes and
characteristics. In this way the identity of J . M. gent
may be established.
1 Vol. I, fol. 5, Prologue.
"Myne infante Muse, longe studieng what to wTight
at first resolv'd some bloody warres t'endighte."
CHAPTER III
J. M. GENT
In a manuscript of the great length of The Newe Meta-
morphosis, covering in time of composition so many years,
it would seem that the most self-effacing of authors, even
in a period in which authorship was not highly valued,
would unmistakably betray his identity. This statement
would seem especially true of a work of the rambling nature
of the manuscript under consideration. But J. M. is not
vainglorious; he labors under no delusion that he has
produced something of exceptional merit. In his Prologue,
when he writes that
bookes of this nature being once perused
are then cast by,^
he makes evident of how sHght value he holds the pages to
follow. He often complains with apparent sincerity that
he has "noe Poets pleasing smoth-fyl'd veyne,"^ that this
"taske is too greate for me,"^ and that his "arte" is "both
rough & rude."^ On the other hand, his narration of the
"Powder Treason," he writes,
. . . shall endure
then stone or brasse of that I am full sure
so longe as this fayre He shall traded be
these lines shall last even to eternitie.^
The cause for this fame, however, arises not from the excel-
lencies of his work, but from the abhorrence and terror
occasioned by this conspiracy among his contemporaries
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 6. ^ Vol. II, fol. 194 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 6. * Vol. II, fol. 199 verso.
s Vol. II, fol. 199 verso.
70
J. M. GENT 71
and their descendants; and, further, the author tells "a
story not of fiction no we," having "put on th' Historians
graver gowne."
This apparent modesty, especially in the author's time,
is often conventional and feigned; but J. M.'s many pro-
testations of lack of merit, culminating at the end of the
work in the assertion,
Some more accurate vdW shortly tread the paths
My rougher Muse already beaten hath
my leave I here of Poetrie doe take,^
smacks more of honesty than the elaborate "Obhvioni
Sacrum" of many of his contemporaries.
But the author of The Newe Metamorphosis had Uttle
intention of remaining anonymous. Whatever fame or
recompense should accrue from his work, he stood prepared
to claim. His title-page says Written by J. M. gent, and a
few pages later below The Epistle dedicatorie, having no
connection with what has preceded or with what follows,
and evidently jotted down as an afterthought or because
of some transient impulse, comes the couplet which has
caused so much confusion to the few who have inspected
the manuscript.
My name is Frenche to tell you in a worde
but came not in w**^ conqueringe Williams sworde.
And undoubtedly his curious readers, if the poem had been
given to the public, would have had little difficulty in rec-
ognizing who had presented to the world this "Feast of
Fancie" and "Arraignment of Vice." For even in a day
when authorship was none too rare, and greedy pubhshers
were tempting the pleasure-bent Elizabethan with a fare
not always nice, if of infinite and highly spiced variety,
a J. M. gent, whose name was "Frenche," capable of writing
1 Vol. II, fol. 268.
72 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
a work of such amazing length, which shows the author a
man of wide reading and of extended travel, a linguist and
a keen observer of his fellow men, would have been readily-
known. He did not shun recognition.
But J. M., even in the course of his stories, frequently
takes us into his confidence; he tells the reader an inter-
esting and illuminating bit of personal history. Again,
he shows a penchant, at times a passion, often wearisome and
frequently incongruous, for labored and prosaic explanations,
for certain pursuits and avocations, and for homely maxims;
indeed, in many significant ways he aids unconsciously
in his identification. I shall point out the most character-
istic of these.
J. M. gent, informs us that he has been a soldier, serving
in various campaigns and in several lands with the English
forces. Indeed, he is most reaUstic in his pictures of the
swaggering man of arms,^ of the martial wooer, and of the
captain on leave in the London inns. In one of his auto-
biographical digressions ^ he makes evident his own impul-
sive ardor and his ready acceptance of the use of arms for
redress, in his challenge to a traducer to fight a duel on the
sands of Calais. These references to the profession of arms
are constantly recurring. They are not the conventional
borrowings from Itahan novelle and other popular sources,
found so often in the contemporary drama and hterature,
but they are portraits and incidents pictured by one who has
served in camps.
J. M. writes in one place that
Yo** Martialists turne wanton oftentymes
leaving the warres you study wanton rymes
and turne ranks Poets, . . . ^
1 Examples of his reference to soldiers and martial exploits are
Vol. I, Part II, fos. 42, 112; 128; Vol. II, fol. 49.
2 Cf. Chap. I, p. 6. 3 Vol. II, fol. 49.
J. M. GENT 73
and that he, a soldier, has written these " rough hewen lynes " ^
of the manuscript, because he has been inspired with love.
Again, in his own narration of the Cadiz expedition,
whilst o'' Eliza of blest memory
did in this kingdome hold the soveraigntie,^
there is even more positive and reliable confirmation of the
author having followed the profession of arms. After
remarking,
rie tell the what I in my travaille sawe,'
he embarks on a vigorous description in the first person of
that famous attempt to cripple Spain, when not only "Essex
and Howard both Liuetenants were," but also Ralegh,
the fighter Vere, and a galaxy of Ehzabethan soldiers, cour-
tiers, and adventurers formed a company distinguished in
its brilliancy and bitter in its rivalries. /. M. not only
tells of the number of ships saihng from Plymouth, "the
first of June," of the "fower & twenty saile" brought by
"th' United States," the ally of England for many years,
of the bitter fight in the treacherous harbor of Cadiz; but
he also describes how Essex with a small force lands "under
the Blockhouse," and he finally quotes his "welcome saying"
to the soldiers, using the first person:
The spoile & sacking nowe of Cadiz towne
(whose haughty stomacks are aheady downe)
let be the Captaines meede, the Soldiers pay
for that y' have bravelj'- done like men tliis day
except alone those clothes the Spaniards weare
w°^ to lay hold on see yo" doe forbeare.
Nowe swarme the English & the Duch Ukewise
into the houses, (even as thicke as flyes
in somers even after a raynie storme
forshewing still the weather wilbe warme)
1 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso. ^ Vol. II, fol. 119. ' Vol. II, fol. 118 verso.
74 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Then Gold & silver did we pill & sacke
loaden w**^ treasure cast it on o'' backe
we ran abourd & straite returd againe
in house no roome was by us searcht in vaine
were th' Owners by, we askt not for the keyes
but all flewe open as us best did please
doors, lids of chists, cupbourds & cabbinets
the Spaniards freely paid us all their debts
here found we Bullion, there Rials of eighte
here w*^ gold Ducats we o'' pockets freighte.^
The author, also an eyewitness, tells of the burning of^a
large part of the Spanish fleet by its admiral, Medina, in
order to save the ships from falling into the conqueror's
hands :
the Duke of Medina, he did then comand
that they the whole fleete then should sacrifice
to angrie Vulcan, I sawe't iv^^ myne eyes,
then the thicke clouds of stincking foggie smoake
did many a Spaniard on the hatches choake
howe the base slaves Uke paddocks flewe in th' aire
when th' fyre & powder kist (oh loving payre), ^
He also relates how
in th' Bishops Palace & the Nunarie
some goods were found : bookes in the Library
were valued at full out a thousand markes
w*^** we brought home for o'' learnd EngUsh Clarkes. ^
And later we hear of how
Faro we tooke & Lotha burnt w*^ fyre, *
and of the homeward voyage in triumph to England.
1 Vol. II, fos. 119 £f. 3 Vol. II, fol. 122 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 121 verso. * Vol. II, fol. 128.
J. M. GENT 75
The author's pride in the Enghsh soldier and his ardent
patriotism shine forth in the words he makes Medina, the
Spanish leader, speak in spite of his defeat. He exclaims:
They beate us once (quoth he) on th' English coast
nowe on o"" owne they have us sore rib-roast
let never Spaine w*^ England medle more
for if we doe, 't will make o"" Master poore
I'le rather goe to warre against the Turck
& w*^ lesse danger thinke to make fayre work.
w*^ English Marsis ^ I no more will deale
who in most neede their valo'' not conceale
but by the Kinges beard he's a noble foe
that ransomeless did let so many goe
they are indeede true Noble spirits sure
since where they conquered th' are so honest pure
that noe one rape was by them here comitted ^
nor noe foule fault for w'^^ they can be twitted
an honorable friende he sure would prove
that being a foe expresseth so his love
I cannot thinke but vertue is the cause
they deale so justly, not restrained by lawes
for Victors thus to curbe the rage of lust
from very Justice needes p[]re]]ceede it must
the English Armie's like a Comon weale
where w*^ uprightnes every man doth deale.'
And so from the preceding excerpts /. M. shows that not
only is he a gentleman with a French name, but also a
soldier, fond of the profession of arms, rejoicing in feats of
^ Probably derived from Mars and used because of the valor of the
English.
' Ralegh in an undated letter writes that the English "spared all"
at Cadiz, but that the " Flemmings " were cruel and hard. Cf. Steb-
bings' Life of Ralegh.
» Vol. II, fol. 123.
76 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
valor, exulting in the courage of his countrymen, and even
reveling in the sacking and pillaging of the vanquished.^
But Spain was not the only land J. M. had visited as a
soldier. The Newe Metamoryhosis abounds with references
to Ireland and especially to Connaught; references which
show an intimate knowledge of the country and a deep
interest in its social problems. We not only read of the
bawd following the camp in Ireland,^ of the numerous plots
instigated there by the Romanists to undermine Elizabeth's
power,^ of the crafty Jesuits who, he prays,
. . . were all to Ireland confyned,*
of Irish history with its legendary five kings and their
realms, of "that dangerous narrow maine"^ and "roughness
of the sea," with its "rocks and shelves,"'' separating Eng-
land and Ireland, of the witches frequenting its "moory"
lakes,^ but we are also told of the rude Irish kerns,
fraught w*'^ all vice, repleate w*^ villanye
they still rebell & that most trecherously
like brutish Indians, these wylde Irish live
their quiet neighboures they dehght to greive
cruell & bloody, barbarous & rude
dire vengeance at the heles hath them pursude
they are the salvagest of all the nation
amongst them once / made my ■pe[rf\grination}
1 Sir Robert Naunton in his Fragmentia Regalia, Arber's Garner,
Vol. VII, p. 89, says that the men had "great greediness of spoil."
2 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso. ^ Vol. II, fos. 35 ff.
* Vol. II, fol. 222.
5 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso.
6 Vol. II, fol. 136 verso.
^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 76 verso.
8 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 21 verso.
Spenser in A View of the Present State of Ireland has Irenseus say:
the " kearns " are thieves, murderers, swearers, who are wild, cruel
and licentious. Cf. Spenser's Works, Globe edition, p. 640.
J. M. GENT 77
He writes again :
These Kernes were salvage people, wylde & rude
they best esteemed, that most their hands imbrueed
in blood of others; they no lawe obeyd
nor were of any punishment afraide
what any lusted, that he held for lawe
others intents, they not regarde a strawe
all kynde of synnes they dayly practiz'd there
villaines to them resorted farre & neare
they multiplyed for their immunitye
the lewdest persons love impunitye
that dev'iUsh vice of Luste was comon there
in open streetes to acte it none do feare
sinnes most unnaturall & horible to tell
that had beginnings from the Prince of Hell
man there w*^ man, nay worser, man w*^^ beasts
thus they obeyd God Plutos blacke beheasts.^
And later he tells the reader the men from Connaught with
their "shagged haire"^ are "more salvage"^ than men of
other lands, and that
The Irelanders, are salvage ignorant
brutish & cruell every man will grant
in contracts fraudelent, to theft inclynde
what e're they say, yo" nere shall knowe their mynde
to superstition very much addicted
therefore w**^ war & strange disease afflicted.*
But it is Connaught that is conspicuously and intimately
mentioned by J. M. Two of the stories of The Newe Meta-
morphosis take place here,^ Erno lake, near Gal way, is
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 20. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 35 verso.
« Vol. I, Part I, fol. 35. " Vol. I, Part II, fos. 58 ff.
' Vol. I, Part I, fos. 25 ff., Apollo carries his mistress to Connaught;
Vol. I, Part I, fos. 34 verso flf., the king of Connaught weds Chryses,
a^Grecian maiden.
78 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
twice spoken of/ and the kerns, among whom the author
once "made my pe[ri]grination," ^ are of Connaught.
And though these people are both bestial and treacherous,
Apollo tells Clavina, whom he carries from England, that
in "the kingdome of Connaughta"
"... No hissinge serpent doth 'bide
noe toade, nor spider, adder, nor yet snake
noe stinginge venom'd thinge may there p[er]take
the sweetes & pleasures of that happie soyle
there they doe live \v[i]thout or care or toyle
they neither plant, nor sowe, nor till the ground
nor w**^ a hedge their owne encompasse rounde
all thinges are common, there they nothing wante
they feele no penurie or pynchinge scante." ^
This Utopian picture of the land of the rude kerns scarcely
is in keeping with what the author has spoken at other
times of Ireland and its inhabitants. But at heart he loves
this country. Like his
. . . noble Spencer nowe of fairest fame,^
the beautiful island beckons to him in spite of its constant
murmurings of discontent and active rebellion, and he even
had planned to make his permanent home in "that riche
lande."
With much playful fancy he tells us of "Gallaway,'^
the leading town of Connaught. Clavina had won all the
kingdom with Apollo's aid by a clever trick, and then
She built a city to her lasting fame
and it Clavinia called by her name
w"^ tyme hath changed & the citie too
strange unexpected thinges, this Tyme will doe
1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 21, 27. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 21 verso.
3 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 25 ff.
< Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91. Colin Clout Comes Home Again gives a
delightful picture of Spenser in Ireland.
J. M. GENT 79
Galiva now they call't, we Gallaway
Clavinas name's forgotten many a daye
it Gan-away mee thinkes would better sound
but reason oft is w**^ longe custome drownd
after the old shape it doth still remaine
the buildings, tower like it doth still reteyne
they were Clavinians called here to fore
no we Gallawayes (I thinke) for ever more.^
J. M.'s interest in Ireland and personal knowledge of
that country led him to make it a large part of the Parson's
discourse in a story-telling contest on the trip home from
Cadiz. The Parson was a man of serious and devout mind;
indeed, the boisterous Shipsmaster calls him a "Puritan."
He feels ill at ease among the mirth-loving party lounging
on the deck, and when he draws the first lot, after much
hearty badinage on the part of the master of ceremonies,
he proceeds to discuss the commonwealth and the planting
of colonies. Of Ireland he speaks gravely and with author-
ity. He strongly disapproves of the Virginia attempt at
colonization, but in Ireland he knows many
"... honest & vertuous
that there abide, many religious
the greater p[arl|te though are of people base
noe furtherers of vertue in any case
but that it is a noble business
I not deny, but freely doe confesse
for every day men even of qualitie
& of good rank goe thither for supply.
as th' place is rich if that it were secure
my self to live there I could well indur.^
And for o"" people that to Ireland goe
that enterprise I doe allowe also
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 27 verso.
2 This couplet is written in the margin, presumably later, and with
different ink.
80 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
for them & us it can not be but good
& certainly it might have sav'd much blood
if it had bin attempted longe agone
And so I say I not mislike a whitte
our Irish busines & the planting it
but this in them I mislike utterly
that they run over nowe so frequently
who are in debt & danger unto others
thereby undoeing often tymes their brothers
fathers & mothers, children, friends & foes
forgetting credite over straite he goes
to th' credito""® most great wTonge & undoeing
nought can restreine them but they still are goeing
ech day & houre, nor roughnes of the sea
nor rocks & shelves can cause them here to stay
that Banckrouts & such base shifting knaves
should thither packe & dance on Neptunes waves
& there mispende what they from others steale
it is iniustice me thincks every deale
and fit it were, some wholesome lawes were made
them to restreine from their so coosininge trade
they better doe deserve to dye therfore
then pilfering theives who steale for they are poore
w'^'^ take a sheepe, a hogge, a cowe, a horse
through biting neede, being driven to 't by force.
Neede eateth through stone walles the proverb saith
but this their packing openly bewraith . . .
But many good & godly men I hope
are thither gon w^*^ never love the Pope
nor did their credito""^ in that wise abuse
but for good reasons to dwell there do chuse
many of good note & right civill men
where goes one such I wish that there were ten
divines & laymen many I doe knowe
rehgious, honest, w'^^ doe thither goe
J. M. GENT 81
some wanting meanes in their owne Native land
Some there to preache, to governe & comand
and many of deserts who hope thereby
for them & theirs to get a competencie." ^
I have quoted the Parson's words at length, for what he
tells us is interesting historically. He shows a sincere
interest in Ireland and an intimate acquaintance with its
problems. The author, also, may have used him, the digni-
fied and serious member of the ship's company, for his
mouthpiece.
And so we can safely conclude from this active and large
interest of J . M. in Ireland, especially in Galway and Con-
naught, and from the authority of the words spoken by the
author in his own person that he, the soldier poet, had
visited and served among the rude "salvage" kerns by
Erno Lake. He had followed his standard in Spain; he
had fought in Ireland.
J. M. not only visited Spain and Ireland; he also seems
to know Flanders and the English camps stationed in that
country. France is mentioned only casually; Italy and
Rome ^ are arraigned as the home of the Pope, and as a
sink of iniquity; but the "Flemish camps" and the "Lowe-
countrie" are spoken of familiarly as if by one who had
been a member of the English force sent to fight Spain in
the Netherlands. Service under the great Vere was popular
in the last decade of the sixteenth century.
J. M. speaks of "beast-like-swilling" of the "Duch-
men."' He tells us that "they true drunkards are," and
in religion
all kynde of sects & errors they will prove.
1 Vol. II, fos. 135 verso ff.
2 Vol. I, Part II, Book X.
3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 58 verso.
82 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
In speaking of the lottery, we read,
the States of Flanders doe the same alio we. ^
In another place a betrayed husband searches for his erring
wife "in the Lowe Countries," for
he thought she had bin following the campe.^
Consequently,
Dort, Hage, Ostende, & Amsterdam he sought.
but only to continue his quest "amongst the puncks" in
London and then among the soldiers in Ireland. In another
place, he tells us that the tomb of the proud woman who
had offended Latona is "neere unto Hage" and "w[i]thin
the Monestary of St. Barnarde." Indeed we can see the
pictures of the offending ones "upon the tomb," if we doubt
him who knows the story to be true and who has seen this
place,^ near which "lyes th' Enghsh & Flemish campes."*
This story, it is true, causes mirth and vulgar scurrility
among the listeners, and there is much giddy and obscene
repartee in which the Flemish army camps and the soldiers
there stationed figure as principals.'^ The author, however,
does not seem to speak of these matters from report, but
as an eyewitness and a participant.
And so, though Flanders and the Netherlands do not play
so conspicuous a part in the pages of the poem as either
Spain or Ireland, and although the personal reference to
these countries is more incidental and in the spirit of jest,
still because we know that /. M. had served in Spain and
the evidence is conclusive that he had been in Ireland, we
may assume with reasonable certainty that he was also
near "the Hage" and one of those English fighting under
the greatest captain of those stirring times. Sir Francis
1 Vol. II, fol. 134. 3 Vol. II, fol. 84 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso. ' Vol. II, fol. 85.
6 Vol. II, fos. 85 ff.
J. M. GENT 83
Vere.^ It was the fashion for the gallant, plumed young
courtiers to serve a campaign under this leader.^
J. M., however, was not only a soldier campaigning in
Spain, Ireland, and Flanders, using his experience for his
work, but he was also a sincere opponent of the strong Roman
Cathohc party in England and a bigoted enemy of the
Papacy. He feared with many of his contemporaries the
almost open efforts of those of his country who were Roman-
ists to advance the interests of their faith. He himself
was a man of strong religious convictions and of a simple
piety. Indeed, he sympathized with many of the tenets of
the so-called Puritans.^
The bigoted "Precisian," with his grotesque mannerisms
and attitudinizing, was an attractive figure during this
period to poke fun at and, indeed, until the stern necessity
of the Civil War taught the graceful cavahers that their
stage Mulligrubs,^ Tribulation Wholesomes,^ and Zeal-of
the-Land Busys ^ were not at all times canting, whining
hypocrites, but brave soldiers and earnest patriots. J. M.
may have been a soldier-adventurer and a lover of loose
tales smacking of the camp or the tavern, but he was also
a militant Christian, sincere in his faith. He paid devout
and simple homage to his God, defending the sanctity of
the Sabbath and the purity of his faith; consequently he
^ Jervase Markham, in his Epistles of War, 1622, speaks of Vere as
"wonderfully skilled in entrenching."
2 C. R. Markham, The Fighting Veres, p. 410.
^ Thomas Puller, in his Church History, traces the earliest use of the
term "Puritan" to 1564. Archbishop Parker, in his letters, uses "Pre-
cisian," "Puritan," "Presbyterian" synonymously for terms of re-
proach. Cf. Enc. Brit, under "Puritanism." By 1600, when /. M.
commenced his work, the term "Puritan" had come to have a definite
meaning. Cf. Gardiner, Hist, of Eng., Vol. I, pp. 29 ff.
'' Marston, The Dutch Courtezan.
^ The Alchemist. ® Bartholomew Fair.
84 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
resented the unmerited abuse heaped on the Puritan. In
fact, The Newe Metamorphosis has not only many references
to the might and justice of
Thou great all-seeing, & almighty God,^
which show the sincerity of the author's rehgious beUef,
but it also contains several passages which need consider-
ation, in which the Puritan is defended and praised.
J. M., in one place, contrasts the honest Puritan with
a grasping and conscienceless advocate who, defending his
iUicit gains, remarks,
"Well said that worthy Prophet Machiavell
let me get goods, & let them talke of Hell
for Puritans & fooles that be precise
w^^ above all ^vill seeme to be most wise
they talke enough of their great Joves beheast
but Machiavell his statutes please me best
So, I may thrive let all men rot, decay."
Again, in attacking the conspirators in the Gunpowder
Plot, the author seems to associate himself clearly with the
Pm-itans. He writes:
the Puritans, they meant to charge w**^ th' facte
then all the rest yet, a more damned acte
to charge such as were innocent & free
who never dealt in blacke conspiracie
nay who had rather dye a thousand deathes
then but conteine it in their myndes uneaths ^
when we, of yeares had nigh a Jubilee
enioyed th' Gospell, then this treacherie
was by these vassals of that damned-pit
attempted first, & then they thriv'd in it
next Saboth day at night, etc.^
^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 134 verso.
= Not easily, with difficulty; see 2 Henry VI, Act II, Sc. 4, 8.
3 Vol. II, fos. 204 ff.
J. M. GENT 85
In another place, when he tells of the Romanist plots in
Scotland against the young James, he declares that the
king is
The most religious Prince in Christendome
cheife enemie to that apostate Rome
Europe hath not a more religious Kinge
to Sathans kingdome, such destruction bringe.
(To be a Puritan cold or Precise
is the greatst wronge that any can devise
and by good reason for it is as much
as if yo" should, a mans deere credite touche
by sayinge he's an honest man & iuste
one that upon his bare worde yo*^ may truste
that hateth swearing, whoringe, drincking, lyes
and all kyndes villany yo" can devise
may not a man thincke you ashamed be
when they him praise for that his honestie?)
and certainly the divell could foretell
Kinge James his ofspringe must his kingdome quell.^
And the good Parson, also, who probably speaks for the
author, on the return voyage from Cadiz is called a "med-
dling Puritan."- The honest man replies, however, that,
"for Kinge & countrie I doe daily pray
to bless them both, & sende them health & peace."
In addition to these direct references to the Puritan,
showing the author's admiration for their conduct and
profession of faith, there are many additional passages in
the work, not conventional in tone, but spontaneous expres-
sions of convictions, which make it evident that J. M. at
least had strong sympathy for this sect and had little patience
for spiritual laxity. A happy shepherd in Arcadia, in spite
of wealth, did not "strout in puft pride" in many colored
clothes imitating "ech foreign Nation," but in "sobrest
1 Vol. I, fol. 78 verso. « Vol. II, fos. 137 ff.
86 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
manner" with his hair "smooth & seemly short" ^; the
gossip and indecent revehy of the tavern are attacked,
where "unlawful games" are played "whiles Divine service"
is held at church ;2 and again, while the author is at Malvern
to drink the waters because of his "collick," he finds at
Colwell, the towne on th' other syde the Hill
that the people were ignorant
of that whereof they scarcely sawe the wante
I meane the truth & imortallitie
the waye to bUsse, the sacred deitie,*
and that they "doe profane the Saboth-there." He tells us:
the neighboure townes, they on the Saboth feaste
a Master of Misrule enterteynes ech guest
w**^ drums & Bagpipes & w**" warlike Gunnes
there as to May-games all the people runnes
they greate provission make to enterteyne
Ideoats, Asses, & ffooles, old & vaine
and all this reveUing crue to church must goe
About Mid-service, they goe on a Rowe
after the Priest, into the Church-ale-house
(w*4n the church yard standeth) to carouse
not carouse say they, but breake their fast
because their Calves-heads mil noe longer last
w'^^, being done, to church they hye apace
their latter service, serves for after grace
then from the Church, the May-pole, they doe bringe
and set it up (tis sure a heathnish tliinge)
the rest of th' day, in feasting & in dancing
they spende, w"'^ should be in gods name advancing.*
The leader of this flock, to J. M.'s dismay, is ilhterate,
unfit to guide and teach his people.^ In fact, few of the
1 Vol. II, fos. 26 ff. " Vol. II, fol. 96.
2 Vol. II, fol. 236 verso. ^ Vol. II, fol. 96 verso.
3 Vol. II, fos. 97 ff. J. M. tells a story of an illiterate clergyman.
J. M. GENT ' 87
clergy have taken a "degree in Schooles" and, in conse-
sequence, hold them "that doe but bookish fooles." The
author then writes with deep indignation:
poore Sots are they that to the Universitie
doe sende their sonnes, who might for certainety
at Gramar-schoole learne Divinitie enough
as for the Liberall Arts, why marry fough ^
what needeth that, doe we not dayUe see
that all Trades-men can teache Divinitie
Lawyers, Hosiers, Hatters, Fustian-weavers
Drapers, Black-smiths, drovers, & Logge cleavers
will shortly come on too : "^
In close connection with the author's commendations of
the Puritans and with his expressions of religious belief is
his defense of the petulant and fiery Essex of whom the
Puritans "had hoped well."^ Indeed it may be possible
that J . M., serving with Essex in the Cadiz campaign and
hearing Wright, the Puritan tutor of the popular leader,
preach a sermon giving thanks for the victory after the
coup de main,'^ may have been influenced by the convictions
of his general. But his hearty praise in The Newe Meta-
morphosis of Essex after his execution, and in spite of the
fact that all mention of his name was sternly suppressed
for some years after his death,^ not only reflects credit on
the courage of the author if he planned publication at the
time of composition, but it also aids in establishing his
identity; for J. M. must have been in peculiarly close and
^ Exclamation.
2 Vol. II, fol. 97.
* Domestic Correspondence of Elizabeth, Vol. CCXXXVIII. (Roll's
House.)
* Devereux, W. B., Lives and Letters of the Devereux, Earls of Essex.
' The Philotas of Daniel was suppressed in 1605 because it praised
Essex.
88 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
intimate relations with the young favorite of EUzabeth to
champion an unpopular cause.
In speaking of plots against the state, he writes :
let never Traytors death be longe neglected
from such foule vermin, Lord us freedom give,^
and then he adds:
brave Essex had the sharpest punishment
that law or justice could 'gainst him invent
& quickly, too, he liv'd not longe to pleade,
his best deserts, w°^ might stande some insteade
yet he 'gainst State or queene did not conspire;
let viperous villaines have deserved hyre,
noe, they doe, often better scape by farre,
then such to whome we most beholdinge are.^
The Newe Metamorphosis, however, gives us further
evidence of the author's personal tastes and character in
addition to his Puritan convictions and his admiration of
Essex. No one could read the poem, even in the most
cursory fashion, without arriving at the conclusion that the
poet was famiUar with the country; that he had enjoyed
with all his buoyant vitality the pursuits of the country
gentleman; that he not only delighted in fishing, hunting,
and the out-of-door sports of his day, but that he also had
more than an amateur knowledge of trees and plants and
of their uses; and that he was familiar with the problems of
the laborer and the farm. He speaks of rural matters with
an intimate knowledge. He assumes an air of authority.
An occasional Une, a brief passage, even an illuminating
word will lead the reader to this conclusion, even though
in some instances positive confirmation may seem lacking.
1 Vol. II, fos. 198 verso ff.
2 Vol. II, fol. 199. This passage is written in the margin of the
page.
J. M. GENT 89
J. M., it is true, never meets Nature in her rarely confiden-
tial moods; he has not the poet's eye or the poet's heart
to offer adoration on the shrine of a Mistress of entrancing
variety. But a sturdy Englishman, he rejoices in a noble
tree, he delights in placid rivers winding their course to
the North Sea, he craves a life of action and the simple
pleasures of the open. His work gains charm from this
rural coloring and background.
In this connection I can safely assert that J. M. was a
fisherman. There are ever recurring references to "white
scal'd" mullets; ^ to
. . . Thornback, flare & of the dainty chaite; ^
to the pike with "gaping mouth "^ and the ruddy salmon
which pursues the pike;* to
. . . sweete white scaled, red fyned, river fishe
and spotted Treats; ^
to eels,^ living in marshy grass, and to the many fish in the
silver Thames. He writes,
about the arches,'^ Thames doth play bo-peeke
w*^ any Troian or els Merry-Greeke
and njinbly there she wyndes from arche to arche
when Phebus w*^*^ his gleames so hot doth parche
the liquid flood. There sportive fishes playe
dance in brightest streames in fyne araye
the silver smelt w'^'^ so on ayre doth doate
that oft he skippes into the rowinge boate
the Troute so sweete, that dayntie is & rare
who cunningly doth shift the ffishers ware
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 37. * Vol. I, Part I, fol. 56 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 82 verso. ^ Vol. II, fol. 2.3.
3 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 56 verso. « Vol. II, fol. 67.
^ London Bridge.
90 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the Flounder w*^^ below at ground doth feed
the Barbie w*^*^ by th' bridges arches breede
the salmon then w"*^ water yields no fish ^
that's a more princely or more pleasing dish
the dainty Mullet often there is taken
& Porposes whose flesh is like to bacon
there plenty is of Roches, bloakes ^ & eels
w''^ ffishermen catche in their nets & cweles '
and thousands more of spawninge fish do keeps
w*^in the circuit of this pleasant deepe/
We find in one place, again, a fairly detailed picture of
the artificial pond made for the keeping of fish. May,
the son of Mercury, had inherited an orchard in which
its owner had made "faire stewes ^ for fish." Planning a
"Lent feast to make," he found that a thief "had stolen
nigh all his fish away." The following description is inter-
esting, as it shows a knowledge of both fish and poachers:
A pilfering Jack, that was a neighboure by
to spoile Mays fish by many meanes did try
when he at first did wth his angle sit
he thought they more increast, the more they bit
then would he wade & stir about the mudde
that all the fish unto the sydes did scudde
where he so tickled them about the gils
that many tymes he bagges & basquets filles
he then w*^ flue,^ w'^^ casting-net a dragge
went laden home as much as he could lagge.
1
The following three couplets are in the margin.
2 The word is difficult to decipher.
' Evidently creels.
* Vol. I, Part I, fol. 54.
^ A small pond. Markham uses the word in Country Contentments,
p. 79, 1683 edition.
6 A small fishnet. Cf. W. H. Turner, Select Rec. 1569. Oxford,
p. 329; "Nor laye any flewe or other nett."
J. M. GENT 91
but then the ponds were busht and staked soe
as he nor angle nor yet net could throwe
so that at last for very fell despighte
he poisoned pondes & fish in dead of night. ^
This thief comes one evening
unto a stewe that then was newely stored
whose bottome all with pavinge-bricke was floored.^
It is interesting to compare this picture of a small fish
pond or stew with similar descriptions of Jervase Mark-
ham,3 the contemporary authority on country sports.
We can then judge that the author of The Newe Metamor-
phosis had a professional know^ledgc of the care of fish.
Markham also speaks of the mud, of the depth of the water,
and of sharp stakes to ward off thieves.'*
Contrary to the example of Ovid, we often find in this
work the metamorphosis of the characters into a fish or the
enemies of fish. The thief is transformed into the otter, ^
who still the fish in every place doth worme
in pondes & rivers,
and the guilty lover into the "Heme" which preys on fish,^
An excellent example of the metamorphosis into a fish is
where Cupid, wandering on the earth, changes some lovers,
broken-hearted because of a cruel father, into carp,
1 Vol. I, Part, II fol. 26 verso.
* Vol. I, Part II, fol. 26 verso. This stew is used for bathing.
3 Cheap and Good Husbandry, edition 1683, pp. 142 ff., and Country
Contentments, pp. 78 ff.
* Cheap and Good Husbandry, p. 144: "and if you stick, sharp stakes
likewise by every side of the Pond, that will keep theeves from robbing
them."
* Country Contentments, p. 77: "Amongst all the Ravenous Crea-
tures which destroy fish, there is none more greedy than the Otter."
« Ibid., p. 77: "Next to the Otter, the Hern is a great devourer of
fieh."
92 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
who therin spaw'nd & bred abundantly
Thus the first Carpes in Faiery-land were bred
of two true lovers, by freinds severed
they came not out of France as many tell
House-carpes came thence, (or els from deepest hell)
where in more plenty they breede & increase
then ponde-carpes doe, 'tis litle for o' ease
fewe, housen shall yo" fynde the w'^'^ are free
yet have I none, to me they dainty be.^
But it is in a playful passage, phrased most happily,
addressed, as it seems, to an honest country lad, that we
see that J. M. is not only an angler, but also, like every
true angler, a philosopher. Cupid again has come to grief
in his earthly wanderings and has transformed some jeering
urchins, bathing in a stream, into Stanstickles,
a fishe noe bigger then prety worme
not all so bigge as is the tinye Mennowe
w*4n that brooke there are of them enowe
and for they came ^ all arm'd wth staves & stakes
they weare sharpe thornes upon their very backes.'
The poet then interrupts his story of Cupid with the en-
counter of rustic Martin and the "stanstickles." He writes,
Martin one tyme when he first learnd to fish
of Mennowes there did thinke to catch a dishe
the first that bitte did prove a Stanstickle
the w* did so my novice ffisher tickle
he being greedy to take't off his hooke
it stucke in 's fingers w''^ did make him looke
like one aghast: Snailes (quoth he) a Thornebacke
by the blessed Roode, I have tan'e one: Alack
good Martin thou hast noe good lucke
neither in fishing nor in catching ducke
1 Vol. II, fol. 7 verso. 2 -phe country lads.
3 Vol. II, fol. 9.
J. M. GENT 93
fishing nor fleshing followe not thy hande
foUowe thy trade then, that w*^** thou must stande
ffishing's an Arte ^ for swearers most unfit
they must have patience that do practize it
fishing's an exercise & not a trade ^
such as use 't other wise it hath beggars made
yo" have an honest trade then five therby
yo^'le dye a beggar els; He tell yo** why
yo" doe neglecte y' business at home
& after flesh as well as fish doe roame
w"^ cannot be w[i]*^out expence of coyne
whil'st thy poore wife doth sit at home & pine
wants needefull thinges for backe & belly fitte
when like a foole thou vainely spendest it
Martin amende & He forbeare to shame thee
but if thou dost not, He hereafter name thee.'
In this passage speaks the true fisherman, one who appre-
ciates the fascinations of angling.^
J. M. also refers at times to hawking,^ to "pampered
stalhons, kept for breede,"^ to the snaring of rabbits,^ and
1 Country Contentments, p. 60, Markham writes that a skillful angler
ought "to be a general Scholler"; p. 61: "Then he must be exceed-
ing patient, and neither vex nor excruciate himself with losses or mis-
chances"; p. 48: "But in this Art of Angling there is no such evil,
no such sinful violence" (as "Theft, Blasphemy, or Bloodshed").
2 Ibid., p. 48.
3 Vol. II, fos. 9 ff.
* The references and the metamorphosis to fish occur many times.
A further example is the fish to be found at a feast, Vol. I, Part I, fol.
59 verso,
" . . . the goodly spotted troute
the Googeon, Perch, & pleasant feeding Loache
the Barbie, Mullet, & the floating Roache
carpes, salmon."
' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 115.
« Vol. I, Part I, fol. 20.
^ Vol. II, Book VI.
94 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
to the hunting hound. He knows horses, and he even gives
a Hvely picture of the single combat so popular in the court
entertainments during the author's lifetime. He writes
of the spirited horses, restive under constraint:
scarce could the royall Ryders hold their horse
but ech of them would fayne be at his course
they stampe, they snort, they blowe, they chanke the bitte
they rise, they leape, they pawinge make a pitte
they nowe gird forward wayting for the reyne
that w*^ one hand they hardly them refreine
so full of spirit were these gallant steedes
that from their nostrils flames of fyre p[ro]cedes,^
and, as is natural, he lauds hunting. Indeed, he justifies
the killing of game. He writes in much the same words as
Markham that hunting is
a lawfuU pastime, therfore well he might
a princely pleasure, most fit for a Kinge.
for that it doth so swete contentment bringe
as they the noisome hurtfull beasts do chase
that corne & catle do devoure apace
so they the vicious in the comonwealth
daily hunt out & kill, for goodmens health
thus in this pleasure, they do plainly showe
that they the evill from the good doe knowe.^
J. M. also shows his knowledge of rural England and his
personal inclinations in his real love for trees and flowers.
He possesses a fund of quaint lore, gained from his reading
and his observations, which at times lends a homely charm
to his description. He attacks with honest indignation
the spendthrifts who sell "an hundred goodly Oakes"^ for
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 42 verso.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 17 verso. Markham in Country Contentments,
p. 3, speaks of hunting " as being the most royal for the stateliness
thereof " of all recreations. ^ Vol. II, fol. 257 verso.
J. M. GENT 95
their idle pleasures. To fell trees, he writes,
... is a practice w''^ o"^ spendthrifts use
and 'gainst the comonweale a greate abuse
he that intends his land to sell away
first 'mongst his tymber he doth make a fray
downe in one yeare w*'^ have been hundreds growing
they care to fell, let others care for sowinge
they first sell wood & tymber, then the clods
& thus they make most cruell biting rods
wherby not only they themselves are whipt
but th' comonwealth by them is lewdly ^ stript
wasted and stript of tymber & of fuell,^
and the "Boxe, the bane of hony bees,"^ "Holme, Ewe &
Cypresse tree," the "shady Beeche, from showers a goodly
cloake," and —
the tall straite Ashe, the Elme for water worke
Crabtree for Millers, Maple where squirrels lurke
the greate-growne Popler, w**^ the Aspen tree
the green-spred Laurell still from thonder free
the goodly Chesnut, & the Mistle sweete,
together with the "sky-kissing Pine, faire Sicamore . . .
the makedart Cornell,"^ all suffer from irreverent hands.
Again, there is frequent mention of flowers by one who
knows them. In speaking of an exquisite garden arranged
in four squares the author tells us that
The third Square was of sweete & fayre died flowers
the Marygold that turneth dayes & howers
inclyning still its head unto the Sun
so longe untill his course be fully run
1 "rudely" is crossed out; the word written above is diflScult to
decipher.
2 Vol. II, fol. 70.
3 Vol. II, fol. 62 verso, and Vol. I, Part I, fol. 59.
* Vol. II, fos. 69 verso £f.
96 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
in tufts there grewe the Purple velvet-flower
and fast by that the spotted Gilly-flower
March-violets, Goates beard & the Pincke
the Globe-Gee, & Carnation (I thinke)
Anemonyes, both red & white & blue
single & double & of many hue
the Bulbus- Violet, & Convallium sweete
th' Emperiall-Lilly, w''^' doth erly greete
the Mountaine-hlly & the Byzantine
the Alexandrine & Narcissus fyne
still-bleeding Hyacinthus there did stande
unawares killed by Apollos hande
the Fritularia, speckled like a snake
Starlight, cald so for noble Sidneys sake
diverse coloured Tulips stoode thereby
flambant, strawe colored, white as yvorye,
coloured like cloth of gold, grewe ver'gd w*^ red
and some were yealowe w*^ greene overspread
the purple Pagle like\vise there did growe
the glorious flower of the Sun also
the Crowne-Imperiall w**" his perly droppes
the double white Gee, & the sweete Cowesloppes.
This garden had walks bordered by the rose,
some red, some white, some of the damaske sweete
of every kynde & sorte, as was most meete
for such a God; the double yealowe rose
& double muske, so pleasing to the nose
the speckled rose, a plant both newe & rare
was there preserved both w*^ cost & care
the Province, Synamon & velvet-blacke
and to be breife, not any kynde did lacke.^
1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 57 verso ff.
J, M. GENT 97
The poet of The Newe Metamorphosis, however, displays
most markedly and repeatedly a characteristic so distinctive
that it is of great value in helping to determine the authorship
of the manuscript. We have seen in many of the quotations
given in the preceding pages a fondness, amounting almost
to tediousness and often detrimental to his work, for ex-
plaining the material uses of trees, flowers, fish, herbs, and
other things. He tells us the "Boxe is the bane of Honey
bees," the elm is good for " water- worke," the crab tree for
millers ; or again the "stewe," which is used for swimming
as well as for fish, must have sharp stakes and bushes to
ward off thieves, the first carps are bred in England, and
numerous other matters of this kind. J. M. is practical.
He confesses he is a "poore poet," but he also makes it
clear that he had much useful, if quaint information, which
he relishes giving to his reader. He displays this knowledge
con amore and with no thought of its lack of poetic charm.
Instances of this are most numerous. In a garden are
not only all varieties of flowers, but also the serviceable
onyons & Leekes, Parsnips & Carrots sweete
all kynde of Pulse, Cabbage as white as sheete
Cucombers, Melons, & the Turnippe round
both red & white.
He continues, in a most characteristic vein, concerning
"Herbes for phisicke," including
Vervaine, the w'''* doth the Gangrena heale *
AngeUica, w*^^ eaten every meale
is found to be the plagues best medicine
Folefoote, Germander & Thistle carline
Saxifrage, Silvergrasse, w*^*^ the coUick cure
and Bettony for most diseases sure
Acanthus there, & Divels-bitte thereby
so cald, as if the divell did envye
98 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the wondrous good, this herbe to men doth bringe
and therfore bytes it, sure a wondrous thinge
Sowe-bread & Dittany, of such excellent worth
that neither of them, neede my setting forth.^
As we see, he gives much information belonging to the
province of the physician. He tells the secrets of household
physic.
This tendency is further illustrated in those stories con-
cerning unfaithfulness and the world-old triangle in mar-
riage. He knows many provocatives for lust,
as Sperage, Rocket, Basill, Anisseede
Saffron, Satyrion that same comon weede
Scolymus, Asphodell, & Tricoccon
Aristolocliia, Erithranicon
all kyndes of Bulbus, rootes & Clematis
Orchis, Caucalis, & Cynosorchis
w**^ diverse more, not needefuU much to name
w"** unto lust do man so much enflame.^
And "fresh-water creifish,"^ prawns, lobsters," oysters, and
mushrooms,
w''^ growes not by ingendering nor seede
nor roote nor plante but (as she * hath decreed)
even of the fatnes of the fruitful! soile
in pasture grounds where horse w*^ ploughs ner toile,^
artichokes,^ parsnips," and even the potato, possessing the
"vertue ... to stir up venerye,"^ are additional means to
1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 57.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 58 verso. There are several passages similar to
this. Cf. Vol. II, fol. 38 verso.
3 Vol. II, fol. 38 verso.
* Vol. II, fol. 176 verso.
5 Juno.
6 Vol. II, fol. 140 verso. « Vol. II, fol. 150 verso.
' Vol. II, fol. 171. ' Vol. I, Part I, fol. 61.
J. M. GENT 99
excite passion. He even informs us that the three months
following May "faire Venus is forV)id to play." ^
In addition to begin an horticultural expert with an ex-
tensive knowledge of drugs produced from plant Ufe, J. M.
even amazes and, at times, wearies the reader with a wealth
of culinary details usually found in a pamphlet of recipes of
an EngHsh housewife. Several feasts are described in
detail, and we learn of
Pies made of Marrowe mixt [with] Oysters sweets
Doucets & Cocks stones w*^ the former meete,
of "Eringoes candied fyne," of oysters "dressed in sondry
wayes," of "Duck eggs hard roast," of "fat Caviare," of
a "sallet" composed of "lettuce, onyons, Leekes,"^ and,
indeed, of many "other dishes more."^ Our author, in
truth, appears the gourmand. In spite of his praise of
simple life ^ and his caustic comments on the vice of glut-
tony,* he deUghts in the good things of the table and he
knows their ingredients.
The passages and references in The Newe Metamorphosis
to farms and farm laborers are both economically interest-
ing and further confirm the assertion that J. M. knew and
enjoyed the country. They also show the same inherent
tendency to give detailed information. J. M. tells the
reader that
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 10. Markham, in his Farewell to Husbandry,
1684 edition, pp. 123 ff., writes that in June "for your health" you
must use "chast thoughts," in July you must not "meddle with Wine,
Women, nor no wantonness," and in August you must "shun feasts,"
etc.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 61.
' Vol. I, Part I, fol. 59 verso; Vol. II, fol. 32.
* Vol. II, Book II, is a good example.
5 Cf. Vol. II, Book XI.
100 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
. . . Hyndes come whistling in the graine
but er they leave, they eate it out againe
his neighboures catle eate up his spare leaze ^
his horse devoure his yearely croppe of pease,
his Shepeheard lets his sheepe be stole away
their nightly folding makes them easyer prey
his servants spend in possets & in feasts
more then he doth on his invited guests
his maydes do fleece his mylke-pans in the night
so that he often is inforc'te to fight
He can not keepe his corne for Rats & Mice
yet likes he not to sell at this base price
and it is like, for that, S* Swythens day
(if it be true that auncients of it say)
did rayne apace, & will for forty more
succeeding that, (all w"** will breede no store)
yea many more it may doe afterwarde
for twenty dayes past it hath rayned harde
all corne is laid flat & is easely set
but thinne & weake is most of all o*" wheate
Rye is all gappie ^ barly that is strucke
that is burnt up w*^ May-wede, I did mucke ^
these following wets, ye se have bred a flood
and choaked all the grasse w*^ durt & mud
Haye-cocks are drownd, & grass that laye in swathes
is swept away into the watery caves
the grasse that stands must nedes a murron brede
upon those catle w''^ theron doe feede.^
^ "Lease" used in connection with harvesting can mean "pastur-
age." Cf. Murray, New Eng. Diet., 6, Part I, p. 157.
2 Thin, weak.
^ To use for dung.
* Vol. I, Part II, fos. 7 verso ff.
J. M. GENT 101
And again he writes:
if catle chance to come in neighboures ground
they teache them sone the way that leads to pounde
if from the beaten path one hap to stray
action of trespasse they will have straite waye.^
But it is not only the landlord who is encompassed with
troubles. The poor girls of the parish are called by their
employers "drat & whore," ^ the working man suffers in-
dignities and brutal treatment except in harvest time,
when the great landlord gives
. . . kynde speeche to all & none refuse
the poorest in the towne may then be bold
(if a good harvest-man, men doe liim hold)
to speake as freely, as a better man
though scarce w[i]thout releife he liven can
especially in tickle ^ rayny season
or when as harvest men be some-what geason *
but all the rest of th' yeare he may goe by
he hath noe neede then of his husbandry
then doth he look aloft, will scarcely knowe him
nor any kyndnes, not in lookes will showe him. ^
In another place, in speaking of the "Daneworte," or the
"Blood wort e," the author tells us that
upon my ground in too much plenty growes
this stronge ranke herbe,®
showing the reader that J. M. himself probably cultivated
land. Indeed, in a description of barley in the early spring
he evinces an appreciation both of the anxieties of the
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 92.
2 Vol. II, fol. 84.
' Easy, uncertain, unreliable.
* Few, scanty.
^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 99 verso.
« Vol. I, Part II, fol. 101.
102 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
farmer and of the grain itself that further strengthens
this conjecture. Rewrites:
as Barly feilds in glorious springe of yeare
w^^ chap & gape w*'^ drought, & cal for rayne
w''^ when then do from the blacks cloudes obteyne
it presently comes wrigling forth the mould
& lookes more cherely by a thousand fold
thriveth itself & ioyes the Owners harte
the sighte wherof doth make his harte revive
after 's longe toyle he hopeth then to thrive
forgets his sweate in digginge 't out the ground.^
It is not only in this love of the out-of-doors and of
prosaic details that the author of The Newe Metamorphosis
reveals himself; as we have seen before, he delights in
parading his learning. He possesses a wide and varied
knowledge gained by reading books in French, Italian,
Latin, Spanish, and, of course, in his own tongue, and when-
ever it may add to his pose of authority or impress his
audience with his fund of information, he mentions his
som'ces and quotes laboriously with scholarly pretension.
The manuscript has many marginal references to former
works on the Church, to the chronicles, and to classical and
continental authorities. At times entire pages are devoted
to giving hsts of Latin works or unusual names for the
pagan divinities. J. M. rarely speaks of his contemporaries;
he devotes his attention to those who have gained respect
and weight, because of age or lack of access. It is true he
is not alone in this respect; the Elizabethan rarely hesi-
tated to display his wares for his own advantage; modesty
seldom deterred him in seeking the favor of a patron or
lauding the merits of the work of his pen. But J. M. is
especially ingenious. He has a subtle appreciation of every
1 Vol. II, fol. 45.
J. M. GENT 103
means to advancement; he is an adept in attracting atten-
tion to his merits.
In connection with the author's extensive learning, the
question naturally follows whether or not he had been at
one of the great universities. The manuscript does not aid
us materially in this. J. M. refers to Cambridge as
England's most famous University
where learned arts do flourish & increase/
and he speaks of "Trinity, St. Johns and Queens chappell"
colleges. On the other hand, as there is no mention of
Oxford, it is safe to conclude that he either had been a
student at Cambridge, the center of intellectual puritanism,
or had gained a liberal education in other ways. Certainly,
it seems, no Oxford man was the author of The Newe Meta-
morphosis.
The fact that J. M. states frequently in his work that he
is a poet, though only a " poore poet," and a writer of " course
Ryme"2 is also of assistance in his identification. It would
appear from these statements that The Newe Metamorphosis
was not his first work, but that he had already courted
pubhc favor, although with no great success. Indeed,
when he wished to reward a laborer for some service, he
writes that "his purse said noe" and that
Poets for th' most p[ar]te, thrid-bare clothed goe
I thinke it be a grift ^ bequeathed to 's all
the poorest man, in myndes most liberall."*
J. M. also tells us, when he journeys to Malvern springs
because of the "colhck," a story of an ungrateful son whose
1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30 verso.
2 Vol. II, fol. 150 verso.
3 Possibly "gift." The Oxford Eng. Did. gives "grift" as an old
form of "graft."
< Vol. II, fol. 24 verso.
104 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
conduct causes the death of his father.^ He speaks at length
of the duty to a father and gives examples of sons who
honored their parents. He condemns without restraint
all those who have proved disobedient and ungrateful,
exclaiming:
"let me be rather childless & have none
then such a viperous ungodly sonne." ^
The author several times in the course of his work returns
to this subject of fihal love. He shows himself in a favor-
able hght, and it may be presumed with some certainty
that /. M. was a good son to a respected father.
But the manuscript even aids in the solution of the prob-
lem of determining the author by references to his home.
J. M. speaks frequently of the county of Essex. For ex-
ample, he scorns an Essex parson who pretends to be a
gentleman; ^ he tells of an Essex justice whom he knew,
who had denied "his father to his face";^ and again, "when
being come home," he found at " Wethersfeild " in Essex a
water "as good as some of th' other" springs. The author
at the time he wrote these passages may have been living
in Essex, or at least he may have had interests in the county.
On the other hand, we have mention made several times of
"th' East Angles Border," ^ and J. M. tells us in the most
positive fashion that,
On the East Angles border I abide
yet not in Essex on the outmost side.^
As the composition of the poem extended for at least four-
teen or fifteen years, during this time J. M. may have lived
in many places; but it is safe to say that at some period of
1 Vol. II, Book VI. " Vol. II, fol. 105.
2 Vol. II, fos. 104 ff. 5 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso.
» Vol. II, fol. 104. « Vol. II, fol. 115.
J. M. GENT 105
his life he hved on the "East Angles border" and "on the
outmost side."
Finally, no one could read The News Metamorphosis
or even the numerous quotations from it in the preceding
pages without being impressed by the racy, colloquial,
and simple vocabulary of the author. He delights in homely
words of few syllables; he shuns contortions and remote
phraseology. The grotesque language of much of the con-
temporary satire, the detestable "sesquipedalian com-
pounds" ^ confessing a bastard parentage, the nonsensical
jargon which mars the early work of Marston, of Tourneur,
and their school with its confusing use of ellipse, its whimsical
absurdities, its affected learning drawn from many store-
houses, its perplexing obscurity, are all absent from this
writer of "yrefuU Satyre." He is alien to the so-called
school of Persius and its annoying impertinences to good
taste. His only obscurity arises from haste of composition
and lack of revision. His vigorous and vernacular English
is marred, it is true, at times, by excessive mythological
allusions; but this is a fault only too common even in later
centuries, and J. M., claiming Ovid as his master, at least
can offer this excuse in palliation.
In determining the author of The Newe Metamorphosis
we find, therefore, that we are aided by knowing that
J. M. claimed to be a gentleman;- that his name was
French although his family did not come in with the Con-
quest; that he was a soldier serving at Cadiz, in Ireland,
and probably in Flanders; that he was in sympathy with
the Puritans, possibly accepting their tenets; that he was
* Churton Collins' ed. Tourneur's Plays and Poems, Vol. I, pp.
xxi flf.
^ Not only in the title can we arrive at this conclusion; many times
in the poem he pokes fun at the new rich aspirant to birth, and he
speaks as one proud of his own good birth.
106 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
an admirer of the ill-starred Essex; that he was familiar
with the country, rarely appreciating the secrets of angling
and the life of the out-of-doors; that he possessed all the
Enghshman's inherited love for trees; that he knew flowers
and herbs and possessed a fund of expert if quaint learning
in regard to their practical uses with an inherent tendency
to indulge in homely, tedious explanations; that he was
interested and familiar with the economic problems of the
country; that he was a man of wide reading and broad
culture, expressing a preference for Cambridge; that he
had before this work probably written poetry; that he was
a devoted son; that he lived on the "outmost side" of the
East Angles; and that he possessed a homely vernacular
style. If we bear these things in mind, the search for the
identity of /. M. gent, is facihtated.
CHAPTER IV
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
If we accept the conclusions of the last chapter, the
problem of the authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis
becomes, in essential respects, a question of finding a J. M.
gent, writing between the years 1600-1615, whose life con-
forms to what the author tells of himself and whose personal
tastes and peculiarities of style are in harmony with what
we find in the manuscript.
The author lived at a time of remarkable literary fecun-
dity, when literature had become a profession, a precarious
means of livelihood. The words of Harte concerning Jervase
Markham that he was "the first English writer who deserves
to be called a hackney writer" and that "all subjects
seem to have been alike to him,"^ are unfair; for certainly
he was not alone in trying to catch the ear of his contem-
poraries by diverse kinds of composition. Gascoigne had
wooed fortune with comedy and tragedy, with poetry
serious and trivial, with excellent criticism and other mis-
cellaneous prose; the versatile and by no means contempt-
ible Churchyard affected a variety of subjects and styles
besides the broadside in verse; Nash, Lyly, and Greene
displayed admirable facility in adapting their works to the
changing fashions in taste. Indeed, many of the eminent
figures of this age were hackney writers in the sense that
they wrote to please their public. J . M . himself undoubtedly
planned his Newe Metamorphosis with a view to success;
1 Lowndes, Bib. Manual, Vol. Ill, Part 2, p. 1474: William Harte,
Essays in Husbandry.
107
108 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
he chose popular themes and conventional motifs; and the
fact that he was only one of many who were striving in this
way to win a Uvelihood and fame makes the problem of
identification even more difficult.
In a question of this kind, lists of those who were at the
great universities/ dedicatory poems to authors and patrons
and prefaces to various published works, the early writers
on the Ehzabethan stage and literature,^ and the several
Miscellanies of the period are all of great value, for by ex-
amining them we can find, with some degree of certainty,
those men with the initials J. M. who were writing between
1600 and 1615. Of course, it is possible that our author
was unknown, or that in the lapse of years his name has
been forgotten. The Newe Metamorphosis may have been
the single effort of one so modest, so lacking in confidence
that he was unwilling to seek an audience. But, on the
other hand, this manuscript bears every earmark of being
the work of an author with a too facile pen; it has all the
insouciance of the adept in winning popularity. Its author
knew London and the continent; he had come in contact
with courtiers and with laborers; he understood the pubUc
for whom he was writing; indeed, he tells us that he had
written poetry before and clearly for publication. It does
not seem that he should have been completely forgotten.
Francis Godolphin Waldron in reading the manuscript
wrote m pencil, as we have seen, on the first title-page four
names, suggesting that one of them might be the author.
He mentions John Marston, Jervase Markham, John Mason,
and a fourth name, almost illegible, James Martin or Mar-
1 Foster, Alumni Oxonienses; Anthony a Wood, Fasti; Atheniae
Cantabrigienses.
2 Langbaine, An Account of English Dramatic Poets; Phillips, The-
atrum Poetarum Anglicanorum; Winstanley, The Lives of the Most
Famous English Poets.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 109
ten.^ Waldron, a zealous antiquary in literature, who
delighted in curious rarities, has given us the names of the
only four men of whom we have record with the initials
J. M. who were writing verse, similar in character to The
Newe Metamorphosis during the first part of the seventeenth
century.^ Let us first consider the two of less importance.
John Mason received his Bachelor's degree at Cambridge
in 1600-1, and his Master of Arts in 1606. He was a resi-
dent of Catherine Hall,' which is not mentioned by J. M.
when he speaks of certain colleges. We know nothing
further of him except that he is the author of a mediocre,
ranting play,* called The Turke a worthie tragedie, repub-
lished as ^n Excellent Tragedy of Muleasses the Turke and
Borgias Governor of Florence, full of Interchangeable variety
beyond expectation. To him is also assigned The School
Moderator.^ Mason, or his publisher, evidently thought
highly of this "worthie tragedie"; in his title-page there is
none of the modesty of J. M., who, as it has been shown,
deprecates his shortcomings as a poet.
It seems scarcely possible that Mason, leaving Cambridge
1600-1, could have taken part in the Cadiz expedition, or
served under Essex in Ireland.^ The name John Mason,
also, is undeniably Enghsh. It is in no way probable that
he wrote The Newe Metamorphosis.
Waldron in his fist could scarcely have intended James
1 Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II,
p. 481, says the fourth name is "rubbed out." This is incorrect.
^ Geffray or Jeffrey MinshuU or Mynshul was born about 1594.
He entered Gray's Inn March 11, 1611-12. He was too young to be
the author of The Newe Metamorphosis. Cf. Dictionary Nat. Biog.
' Atheniae Cantabrigienses, Vol. Ill, pp. 17, 108; Lowndes, Bib.
Manual, p. 1505.
* Entered Stationers' Register, 10 March, 1608.
« 1648.
* Essex was made Governor-General of Ireland 1598-99.
110 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Martin,^ the philosophical writer of Perthshire and teacher
at Turin, as a probable author of this manuscript. This
Martin was said to have been at Oxford, and he is chiefly
remembered for his disputative powers. He died about
1577, many years before the writing of the work under
consideration. Another James Martin, ^ a Master of Arts
of Oxford who was engaged in translating and revising in
1629 and 1630,^ is undoubtedly intended. The fact that
J. M. speaks of Cambridge as the greatest of England's
universities tends to preclude the possibility of Martin's
authorship, even if it were not for the facts that his age,
his Enghsh name, and his type of work would also mihtate
against this supposition."*
John Marston, however, is a much more significant figure
in our Hterature than either the unimportant and almost
unknown John Mason or James Martin. In addition,
since the time Waldron examined this manuscript his name
has been closely connected with it. Haslewood, indeed,
as we have seen,^ attributed this work to the dramatist,
and Halliwell-Phillipps asserted that it resembled in some
degree his style. Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith,^ however,
denied the authorship of Marston; she maintained that he
would not speak of his "infant Muse" and his "newe-
borne poesie" in 1600 when he had already gained favor by
1 Dictionary Nat. Biog., Vol. XXXVI, p. 280.
^ Probably this was the James Martin who entered Magdalene
College, Oxford, June 17, 1597, aged seventeen. Cf. Foster, Alumni
Oxanienses, p. 978.
* Saravia's Vindiciae Sacrae; Sylvester's Panthea.
* A John Morgan took part in the Cadiz expedition and was knighted
for his ser%dces. He Avrote nothing so far as it is kno'mi. Cf. Camden,
Annales, Vol. II, and Hakluyt, Collection of Early Voyages, London,
1810, Vol. II, p. 29.
» Cf. Chap. II.
6 Cf. Chap. II.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 111
satires, plays, and an 0 vidian poem. In making this
assertion she neglected to take into account the fact that
J. M. also tells the reader that he has written poetry before
this work, or the well-known affectation of modesty on the
part of Marston. Miss Toulmin-Smith, on the other hand,
strengthened her case materially when she offered in support
of her contention the fact that the handwriting found in the
manuscript differs entirely from the dedication in Marston's
own hand to his Entertainment of Alice, Dowager Countess
of Essex} She did not take into consideration, however,
the supposition that the manuscript may have been copied
by some friend of the author or by an amanuensis.
But the chirography of The Newe Metamorphosis is un-
doubtedly that of the author. In spite of the fact of the
great length of the work and that its composition extended
over many years, the handwriting is the same throughout.
There are trivial differences, very probably arising from haste,
the quill used, or, as the poet naively remarks, because
"my hand doth ake" ^; but the numerous corrections, the
words inserted in place of those crossed out, verify this
conclusion. In consequence, the fact that the dedication
to the Entertainment is in a different hand from that of The
Newe Metamorphosis aids in the elimination of Marston.
Marston, however, is too important a figure to be dis-
missed so hastily, especially since for over a hundred years ^
he has been considered in connection with this manuscript.
He is also one of the most interesting and tantalizing per-
sonalities contemporary with Shakspcre ; interesting because
of his distinctive type of work, tantalizing because he always
holds out promises rarely fulfilled of tragic intensity and
' Bridge water MS.
2 Vol. II, fol. 268.
' Waldron examined the manuscript in 1806. Cf. Vol. II, fol. 138
verso.
112 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
poetic beauty. His career was meteoric. In the very early
twenties he took place with Lodge, Hall, and "the author of
Piers Plowman" as "best for satyre" in England,^ and he
had already shocked and dehghted London with his in-
sincere but vigorous lampoons, outlandish in vocabulary,
obscure in meaning, ferocious in invective, and, at times,
vile in imagination. A boy in years, with all the arrogance
and fiery impetuousness of youth, he vied with Shakspere
and Marlowe with his Pygmalion,'^ a poem, salacious, it is
true, hke most of its genre, but partly redeemed by light
humor, playful fancy, and a graceful ease, noteworthy in
one so young. In spite of public and even private con-
demnation,^ in face of the pretended moral purpose of the
author, the popularity of this Ovidian idyll ^ and of Marston
himself grew speedily, and only a few years later he could
write truthfully that he has been "so fortunate in the stage-
pleasings."
The truculent Gifford, partial and scathing in his criticism,
seems to have blazed a trail, followed too readily by many
successors. When he wrote that, "We have but to open
his works to be conscious that Marston was the most scur-
rilous, filthy, and obscene writer of his time" and that
"some of the most loathesome parts of The Monk are to be
found in that detestable play"^ (Sophonisba) , Gifford
centered both the scholar's and the reader's attention on all
that is revolting and hideous in the work of Marston. His
1 Meres' Palladis Tamia, New Shakspere Society, Series 4, I, p. 161.
2 The Metamorphos of Pygmalions Image; And Certayne Satyres,
1598.
3 The Pygmalion was ordered burned in 1599. Cf. 41 Regina
Elizabeth, Stationers' Register, Vol. Ill, pp. 316 ff. Anthony Nixon,
The Blacke Yeare, 1606, says Pygmalion has helped to corrupt England
and "forms part of a prostitutes library."
^ Reprinted, 1613 and 1628.
^ Gifford, Ben Jonson, ed. 1875, p. xx.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 113
obscene cynicism, his gloomy pessimism, his farrago of
outlandish expressions, his absurd bombast and stilted
grandiloquence, his revolting realism and mock casuistry,
his reveling in filth and nauseous details have all been
accented time and time again to the detriment and even to
the neglect of much that is admirable and noteworthy.
Objectionable features, it must be kept in mind, are not
only found in the plays of Marston; Webster and Middle-
ton, Beaumont, Fletcher, and Massinger, in fact most of
his contemporaries, offend the fine taste by lines and scenes
of obscene wit or foul imagination. Indeed, there is no
more foul-mouthed or scurrilous cynic, grotesquely deformed
in body and soul, in the contemporary drama than Thersites;
he heaps filth and obloquy on everything pure and noble.
But Marston does not always offend our sensibilities; he
has given us a great deal worthy of commendation and
hearty admiration. He has left us plays of strange power
and with a haunting charm. The gloomy pessimism, the
offensive ribaldry, the annoying mannerisms are reUeved
and, indeed, to a large extent compensated for by vivid
characterization, a freshness of wit and a comic power
boisterously merry, a repressed vigor and impassioned
strength, and splendid flashes of great poetry. The gentle
and discriminating Lamb found much to praise. He dis-
covered rare beauties in word and thought even in the
rodomontade of Antonio and Mellida.^
And so it may be seen that if Marston is responsible for
The Newe Metamorphosis, we may expect to find in the
course of its rambling length the distinctive faults and
excellencies of its author. A work commenced in 1600,
1 The laughable underplot of the Mulligrubs in The Dutch Courtezan,
and The Fawn are examples of his power in farce. The selections given
by Lamb are chosen with fine discrimination and show Marston at
his noblest.
114 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
much of it written before 1603/ composed hastily and, as
the manuscript shows, with httle and careless revision,
would assuredly display all the contortions and absurd
affectations of Marston's early style, his bizarre vocabulary
and his vagaries, together with his intrinsic power and
splendor in conception and his masterly command of verse.
Let us again consider, before we take up the question
of styhstic characteristics, what we know of /. M., both
from his own words and from implication, in relation to the
meager information we have of John Marston.
In the first place, J. M. signs himself "gentleman."
Marston belonged to the old and respectable Shropshire
family of Marstons.^ His father, who had moved to Coven-
try, was a lecturer of the Middle Temple in 1592, and was
a man of some prominence. The dramatist matriculated
at Brazenose College, Oxford,^ on the 4th of February
1591-2, as a "gentleman's son of Co. Warwick." The
celebrated stage quarrel also throws Kght on his gentle
birth. Crispinus in Jonson's Poetaster, who figures as
Marston,* boasts of the "armes which he bears," and Chloe
tells him that "your legges doe sufficiently shew you are a
gentleman borne, sir: for a man borne upon little legges,
is alwayes a gentleman borne." ^ Even the truculent Jonson
who "beat Marston, and took his pistoll from him"^
conceded that his fiery and provoking opponent had the
1 Vol. I, Part II, Book XII, and Vol. II, Book I, both refer to the
recent death of Elizabeth. There are numerous references to this
queen, especially in the first twelve books.
- Bullen, The Works of Marston, Vol. I, p. xii. Joseph Hunter,
Add. Ms. 24,487 {Chonis Vatum).
3 Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, p. x.
* Cf. Jonson's Conversations with William Drmnmond, ed. David
Laing, Shakespeare Society Publications, 8-10, pp. 20 ff.
^ Jonson, Poetaster, Act II, Sc. 1, 11. 92 ff.
^ Jonson's Conversations, p. 11.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 115
traditional right to the title of gentleman. /. M. gent,
consequently, may stand for John Marston.
- But in the second place, J. M. writes that his name is
"Frenche" and that it did not come in "w*^ conqueringe
WilUams sworde." Marston's name is essentially EngHsh
in its derivation. In the Visitation of Shropshire (1564-
1620), the first Marston referred to is in 1396 ^ over three
hundred years after the Norman Conquest — "who held
a 'manor' in Salop." ^ In no way can Marston be iden-
tified with what this couplet tells of the author.
Again J. M. was a soldier who had been at Cadiz, in
Connaught, and probably in Flanders. It is true that we
know very Uttle of Marston's life. Anthony a Wood
tells us, however, that he was "admitted Bachelor of Arts on
6th of February 1593-4, as the eldest son of an Esquire" '
and "after completing that degree by determination went
his way and improved his learning in other faculties."
We learn from Meres that in 1598 he was already known in
literary London as a conspicuous satirist. It is usually
conjectured that in the years intervening he had studied
law. An interesting passage in his father's will strengthens
this conjecture and lends to it authority. He leaves
"my law books to my s*^ son whom I hoped would have
profited by them in the study of law but man proposeth
and God disposeth &c." ^ The future dramatist evidently
grew restless in the law chambers and turned to the pre-
carious field of letters.
It is possible, of course, that he may have accompanied
Essex and Lord Howard to Cadiz in 1596; many wild young
spirits and beplumed gallants took part in this spectacular
1 Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, p. vi.
2 Grosart, Ibid., p. vi.
3 Wood's Fasti, ed. Bliss, p. 602.
* Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, pp. x ff.
116 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
expedition/ and the adventurous young Marston may have
been numbered among them. John Donne, who was about
three years older, had been attracted by this adventure and
the Azores expedition a year later. But in the work of
Marston we find no reason to suppose that he had ever
followed the calling of arms. In his satires he rails in his
customary fashion at great Tubrio who
Eats up his arms : and wars munition,
and he prays that this miscreant will
Melt and consume in pleasures surquedry.'^
He speaks again of "a dread Mavortian" who "wallows
unbraced," who is "nought but huge blaspheming oaths,"
and who has a "Swart snout, big looks, misshapen Snitzers'
clothes "; indeed he is sunk
In sensual lust and midnight bezelling,^
and is grossly bestial.^ Later he writes of "Swart Martins"
Swooping along in wars feign'd maskery,
and of those "soldadoes" who are "brutes sensual" pos-
sessing "no spark of intellectual."^
Marston's pessimistic attitude in his satires is rarely
sincere and mainly conventional. His role was that of the
virtuous scourger of the vices of his fellows, a misanthrope
despairing in acrid terms of human frailty; but still in spite
of his affectation of morality we can judge from these at-
1 Hakluyt's Collection of Early Voyages, London, 1810, Vol. II,
p. 19; and Camden, Annales, Vol. II, p. 161.
2 Satire I,, 11. 90 ff. BuUen, The Works of Marston, Vol. Ill,
pp. 266 ff.
' tippling.
* Scourge of Villainy, VII, 11. 100 ff.
6 Scourge of Villainy, VIII, 11. 77 ff.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 117
tacks in his satires on the soldier that he had no intimate
knowledge or predilection for the profession of arms.
In addition, in his plays his soldiers are the soldiers of
his sources or the conventional man of war of the contem-
porary stage ^ and his references are rare and superficial to
the foreign military engagements of his country.^ Indeed,
his youth, his activities, his rapid authorship between
1597 and 1606, and his works all seem to preclude the sup-
position that Marston was a soldier, or that he had served
in Spain,^ Ireland, and Flanders.
Then we have seen that J. M., in his more thoughtful
moments, was either a Puritan or in sympathy with this
derided sect; several times, he is outspoken in their de-
fense and praise.'* Marston, on the other hand, laughed at
the Puritans and gibed at their foibles both in his satires
and in his plays. He mocks the "devout mealmouth'd
precision" and declares "no Jew, no Turk" would act more
inhumanely toward a Christian "as this Puritan," only
"a seeming saint — vile cannibal."^ He also speaks of
"the rank Puritan" who makes his religion "a bawd to
lewdness"^ and charges him with the most degenerate
vices. Then the merry subplot of The Dutch Courtezan
is concerned with the pious hypocrites, MulUgrub and his
wife. It must always be borne in mind that this contumely
of the Puritan and making merry at his expense are largely
conventional; still the J. M. of The Newe Metamorphosis,
with his dignified and earnest defense of the Puritans and
^ The generals and captains in Sophonisba are examples.
^ Examples in Jacke Drums Enlertainment, pp. 141 and 166, Simp-
son, School of Shakspcre.
' Satire I, 1. 108, has a possible reference to the Essex expedition.
* Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 29 ff.
s Satire II, 11. 55-86. BuUen, III, pp. 271 ff.
« Scourge of Villainy, Satu-e IX, 11. 109 ff. Bullcn III, p. 366. An-
other attack is found in Scourge of Villainy, Satire III, 1. 154.
118 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
his indignation at the attempt to make them suffer for the
Gunpowder Plot/ could never have written the hbels found
in the satires and plays of Marston.
It is also of interest that, whereas J. M. is constantly
heaping abuse on the Roman Catholic faith and its followers,
interrupting his stories in the most aggravating way with
these attacks and even devoting two books to the papists,^
Marston is comparatively silent on this subject. Possibly
his half-Italian mother may have won his sympathy for the
Romanists.^
The love of the country and that familiar knowledge
and homely information which /. M. delights in placing
before his reader concerning fishing, trees, flowers, plant
life, farming, and all the many interests of a man bred in
the open, are not found in the works of Marston. He
never dehghts in speaking of the carp, the speckled trout,
and other river fish; in praising the craft of the angler;
in giving the properties of herbs and trees; in homely
recipes and remedies; indeed, much that is most distinctive
in the work of J. M., an inherent part of the man, uncon-
sciously and continually betraying his tastes and training,
Marston shows no fondness for. He is a city man. When
he gives his reader or his audience local atmosphere, when
he pictures the fop, the parasite, the spendthrift, or the
gull, his background is that of his source or London.
In several other important respects, which require no
detailed mention, it is impossible to identify Marston as
J. M. The former, an Oxford graduate, would scarcely
call Cambridge the greatest of English universities. Again,
1 Vol. II, fol. 204.
- His maternal grandfather was an Italian surgeon, Andrew Guarsi,
who settled in London. Cf. Grosart, Introduction, pp. vii ff.
3 In Pygmalion's Image, BuUen, III, p. 25, he refers to "peevish
Papists," and in The Scourge of Villainy, Satire II, 11. 69 ff., there
is some conventional satire.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 119
though Hke many of his contemporaries he knew several
languages and undoubtedly had read widely, especially in
the literature of Italy/ still he never paraded his knowledge;
he did not trumpet abroad his learning in the manner so
characteristic of /. M. And finally, born in Coventry,
hving in London until at least 1606-7, and presented with
the living of Christ Church in Hampshire, "10th October
1616," ^ it is not probable that he ever lived on the "outmost
border" of the East Angles,^ the home of J. M.
When we come to the question of style — the diction,
the use of figures, the sentence structure, and the versi-
fication — The Newe Metamorphosis is so unUke the dis-
tinctive work of Marston that it is surprising that it could
have been ascribed to him by any one who had read even
a few pages of the manuscript. Marston possessed eccen-
tricities in style so marked, frequently so absurd, that his
hand can be detected with a degree of certainty. The
man himself was so fiery, so arrogant in disposition, and so
bizarre in his mannerisms, that he became a figure in much
of the contemporary drama. Critics have identified him
as a character in several plays associated with the War of
the Theatres. At various times he has been found to be
Pistol,'* Carlo,^ Anaides,^ Hedon,^ Crispinus,' the scurrilous
^ Aronstein, Englische Studien, XXI, p. 74, writes that Marston
knew Latin and the Italian noveUsts.
2 Bullen, The Wiyrks of Marston, Vol. I, p. xiv. ^ Vol. II, fol. 115.
* Sarrazin, Kleine Shakespere Studien, in der Beitr. zur roman. und
engl. Philologie, X, says Marston is Pistol. Wyndham arrived at the
same conclusion.
^ Fleay, Biographical Chronicle, I, p. 97; Herford in Dictionary
Nat. Biog. in Ldfe of Jonson; Symonds, Ben Jonson, p. 37; Penni-
man, War of the Theatres, p. 50. R. A. Small, The Stage Quarrel,
p. 36, denies this assertion.
* Cynthia's Revels. Cf. Penniman, War of the Theatres, p. 91. Small
denies this, p. 37.
' Cf. Small, p. 37. * Dekker, Satiromastix, p. 195.
120 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Thersites, and many others.^ And his fustian style, mark-
ing and marring his work, was a characteristic of the man,
occasioning much ridicule. Clove in Every Man in His
Humour - and Crispinus in The Poetaster ^ give us some of
the abominations of many syllables of which Marston was
guilty, and the oft quoted passage from The Return from
Parnassus,*
Methiiiks he is a Ruffian in his stile
Withouten bands or garters ornament
He quaffes a cup of French mans Helicon
Then royster doyster in his oyhe tearmes,
shows contemporary opinion coincided with the later verdict
concerning Marston's absurdities.
The News Metamorphosis, on the other hand, displays
none of these peculiarities. The diction is remarkably
sunple; there is no obscurity because of the omission of
words; and even in those passages in which the author
shows the most passion there is no tendency to ellipsis,
to the exclamation and the question, to rhetorical devices,
and to the high-flown, strongly Latinized jargon of Marston.
J. M., however, lacks the divine fire of the poet; to rise
to the graphic force of felicitous expression and appropriate
epithet — those magical flashes of genius that delight us
in Marston — is never in his power. In elevated passages
he is labored. His gift lies in other directions. Whenever
he strains for the loftier flights, he destroys his effect by
some homely expression or prosaic detail, banal and in-
felicitous. For example, in his apotheosis of Peace he
writes that
1 C. R. Baskerville, English Elements in Jonson's Early Comedy,
p. 304, says that Jonson in "portrayal of character is primarily a
follower of Renaissance standards and ideals," and there is "a large
background of conventionality in Jonson's satire of Marston."
2 Act III, Sc. 1. 3 Act V, Sc. 3, 11. 484 ff. ^ Act I, Sc. 2.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 121
It turneth swords to coulters, pikes to akorne poles
it bringeth forth boyes and girles (like fishe) in sholes.
with no intention of coarseness, and the unusual and dis-
tasteful, the "images of filth and putrefaction" ^ so common
in Marston are foreign to his work.
In other respects also the work of Marston and J. M.
are dissimilar. J. M. lacks the skill in verse displayed by
the dramatist; he handles his couplet with difficulty; rime
and accent often shackle his rapid flow of narrative. On
the other hand, Marston's versification in his early satires
in which he uses the couplet frequently displays "a care-
lessness and laxity," but it also possesses a "freedom and
facility," ^ a racy vigor and buoyancy never found in the
pages of The Newe Metamorphosis. Then, too, J. M.
never shows the dramatic power either in characterization
or in visualizing an episode possessed by his greater contem-
porary who, before he was thirty, had influenced to a singular
degree the stage literature of his day.
It can be safely concluded from the evidence which
has been advanced that Marston was not the author of
The Newe Metamorphosis. His name was not "Frenche";
he probably was never a soldier; there is no record of his
being present at the taking of Cadiz, or in Ireland and
Flanders; he attacked the Puritans and showed no attach-
ment for Essex; he had no interest in the life and occupations
of the country; he was not fond of digressing into homely
practical details; he was not a Cambridge man and made no
parade of his learning; he did not live on the "outer"
border of East Anglia; his handwriting differed from that
of The Newe Metamorphosis; and his style was markedly
unUke that of J. M.
1 Thorndike, Tragedy, p. 147.
2 Warton, Hazlitt ed., Vol. IV, p. 409.
CHAPTER V
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
(Continued) — JERVASE MARKHAM
Since John Marston was not the author of The Newe
Metamorphosis, the versatile and proHfic Jervase — often
written Jarvis, Jervis, and Gervase, and frequently I.
and J. — Markham remains to be considered.
Markham belonged to a family not only esteemed in its
native county of Nottingham, but which, in its long history,
during many centuries, had also furnished some illustrious
names to the roll of honor of England. Francis Markham,^
an adventurous elder brother of Jervase and the author of
Five Decades of the Epistle of War ^ and the Booke of Honour,
tells us ^ of the antiquity of the Markham family and that
it antedated even the coming of William the Conqueror,*
and Camden^ writes that this family ''for worth and
antiquity hath been verie notable." Indeed, before the Con-
quest West and East Markham had been contiguous par-
1 Born 1565, died 1627.
2 Fol. 1622.
' Genealogy or Petigre of the Markhams of Markham, Cotham, Oxton,
Ollerton cfc Sedgebrook, 27 July, 1601.
^ In the earliest edition, 1835, of J. Burke's Commoners & Landed
Gentry, the lineage of the Markhams of Nottinghamshire is not traced
further back than Henry II to a certain Sir Alexander de Marcham,
Castellan. A History of the Markham Family by the Reverend David
Frederick Markham, London, 1854, states that the Markham family
traces its origin "to a date anterior to the Norman Conquest,"
Chap. I, p. I. (A new edition called Markham Memorials, edited by
Sir Clements Markham, has additional Markham data.)
* Camden, Britannia, p. 550.
122
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 123
ishes in Nottinghamshire, and after the coming of the
Normans a certain Claron, who had served the Confessor,
retained West Markham under the overlordship of a favorite
of the Norman Duke, Roger de Bush. Claron's descendants
assumed the title Lord of Marcham, and the name of the
family for many years was written De Marcham. ^ Wilham
de Marcham, an eminent and astute ecclesiastic, both Bishop
of Wells and Lord Treasurer to his king, Edward I, who was
recommended by Boniface VIII to be enrolled in the calen-
dar of saints,^ and "that pattern of an upright judge," ^
Sir John Markham, Lord Chief Justice of the Common
Pleas, who framed the instrument deposing the unfortunate
Richard II and who rivals Sir William Gascoigne for the
honor of sending the merry Prince Hal to prison,^ are
the two most conspicuous members of this family before
the sixteenth century.
In the turbulent years of the War of the Roses, the
Markhams were often of service. Polydore Vergil speaks
at length of a certain Sir John, a brave soldier and comrade
of the first Tudor. Indeed, the king's mother, the kindly
Margaret, married her kinswoman, Anne Neville, a descend-
ant of royalty, to his son, the great-grandfather of Jervase.
This Markham, after the fall of the monasteries, became
very powerful, ruling all the country around Newark,*
and he held the responsible position under Edward VI
of Lieutenant of the Tower. In spite, however, of his
prominence he died "utterly ruined."® His grandchildren
included Francis, the mother of the ill-fated Anthony
1 Cf . A History of the Markham Family, pp. 2 ff.
^ Cornelius Brown, Lives of Nottingham Worthies, pp. 167-169.
' Lord Campbell, Lives of Chief Justices.
* A History of the Markham Family, pp. 9 ff. The evidence is based
on the Memoranda of Francis Markham, a contemporary of Shakspere.
' L. and P. Henry VIII, XIV. (1), 295.
* Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, pp. 343 ff.
124 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Babington, and that fair Isabella Markham, the favored
attendant of the Princess Elizabeth even in her imprison-
ment, who was lauded and wooed in several poems by Sir
John Harrington. She married this knight, encouraged by
her royal mistress, who became the godmother of their son,
the wit and translator of Ariosto.
Robert Markham, the father of Jervase, was the brother
of Francis and Isabella. He also stood high in the favor of
the queen and is celebrated in that jingle of her knights of
Nottingham,
Gervase the gentille, Stanhope the stout
Markham the Hon, and Sutton the lout.
He occupied many offices of trust, but the records tell us
that he was also a "valiant consumer of his paternal inheri-
tance." ^ His son Robert, the eldest brother of Jervase,
also a "fatal unthrift and Destroyer of this eminent family,"^
completed the ruin of the Markham fortunes.
Jervase Markham was the third son of this Robert Mark-
ham of Gotham, a small village not far from the historic
city of Newark in Nottinghamshire, and of his first wife,
Mary, daughter of Sir Francis Leake. As his brother
Francis states in his Memoranda that he was born the
25th of July in the seventh year of the reign of Ehzabeth,
one may assume that Jervase was born about 1567 or 1568.'
The chequered career of Francis, as told in his curious
autobiography, is of interest, because undoubtedly his
younger brother had many of the same advantages in early
hfe and was attracted by the meteoric career of the venture-
^ A History of the Markham Family, p. 26.
2 Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, p. 344.
^ Rev. A. B. Grosart in his Memorial introduction to the Tears of
the Beloved, Fuller Worthies^ Library, Vol. II, p. 466, puts his birth in
1566; A History of the Markham Family, p. 64, puts it in 1568.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 125
some elder brother, as well as by the soldier blood inherited
from many forefathers, to follow for years the profession
of the soldier. Francis writes in part:
First brought up at my lord of Pembroke's, whose wife was
Catherine daughter of y® earl of Shrewsbury, whose mother and
his were cousin germans. Brought up after 10 years with Bilson,
schoolmaster of Winchester and after bishop there. After, I was
put to Adrianus de Seraina, at Southampton, a schoolmaster, who
going to his country, the Lowe Countries, my lord put me to one
Malin, a lowe fellow, schoolmaster at Faules. Then, 1582, my
lord put me to Trinity College in Cambridge, to my tutor Dr.
Hammond, and allowed me forty marks per annum. My tutor
departing, left me at Dr. Gray's. I contemned him, and went to
y^ warrs. Whereat my lord was angry and cut off my pension.
So I hved in disgrace, till I submitted myself to my father in 1586.
Francis then studied law at Gray's Inn, got a "companie
and was captaine" under Lord Essex in France, and later
followed this versatile favorite in his disastrous campaign
in Ireland. Before this he must have served with the
military genius of Elizabeth's closing years, for he tells us
that he was "drawne againe to ye Lowe Countries" with
Sir Francis Vere. His later life was one of reckless adven-
ture. Of impecunious but good family, he wooed without
success the fashionable Countess of Derby and Cumberland;
was imprisoned for many weeks for debt, only to be released
by such noble personages as ''Isabel y*^ Countesse of Rutland,
y*^ Lord Monteigle, y*" Lord Sidney, and Sir Francis Vere";
and recklessly raffled for a jewel with ten of the greatest
ladies of fashion.^ At the end, embittered by failure and
forgotten by those he had served, he retired to his native
county to write his Booke of Honour. A vaUant soldier,
a scholar of no mean attainment, a prose writer of charm,
and a courtier truly Ehzabethan in his careless daring and
1 Cf. A History of the Markham Family, pp. 31 ff.
126 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
dare-devil enthusiasm for romance and adventure, such was
Francis, the brother of Jervase Markham.
The younger brother, undoubtedly, possessed to a large
degree the careful education, the varied interests, and
the joy in adventure found in Francis Markham.^ He,
also, was by profession a soldier and served in both the Low
Countries and in Ireland ^ with his two brothers, Francis
and Godfrey. But he was, in addition, a man of broad
culture and varied interests. His works show that he read
French, Itahan, and Spanish; and Dutch too, he probably
understood.^ His versatihty was amazing. Harte, indeed,
writing a century later, unkindly called him the first English
hackney writer, and declared that all subjects seem to have
been easy to him and that his "thefts were innumerable."
Not only was Markham the favorite authority during his
lifetime on the horse and horsemanship, about which he
wrote with all the spontaneous ardor of the enthusiastic
lover, but his writings on husbandry, the delights and tricks
of angling, the falcon, the tillage of the soil, the care of
cattle, recipes for the housewife, rural occupations, the
pleasures and value of archery, prominent leaders, heraldry,
and the profession of arms also show an interest in a diver-
sity of subjects and an extensive knowledge of them.
Markham dehghted in the hfe of action. He took joy
in the country in which he must have spent much of his
busy career, and the life and duties of the soldier he had
learned in many lands in the stern school of the camp.
He aimed at popularity with an engaging frankness, and he
attained it. Several of his prose works were reprinted
1 Francis in 1595 was "iionoured with a degree in the university
of Heidelberg." Thos. Bailey, Annals of Nottingham, Vol. II.
^ History of the Markham Family, p. 34; Lives of Nottingham Worthies,
pp. 167 ff., etc.
3 Langbaine calls him a good scholar and an excellent linguist.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 127
many times during the seventeenth century. His enthusi-
astic assurance was contagious; but this assumption of
authority in his many fields was not merely the empty
vainglorious boast of an unscrupulous vender of other
men's wares. ^ "Showman at heart," he was one who must
" beat his drum with characteristic flourish"^; a sharp "jour-
nahst" who was an adept in attracting applause, as Mr. Aldis
writes in his sympathetic estimation.' But with all these
frailties, Jervase Markham was so vital, so vahant in spirit
in face of adversity, so buoyantly optimistic, so chivalrously
reverential to his father,"* so tenderly and humbly pious
in his childUke trust in his Maker, that to those who know
his curious pamphlets with "their singular rhythmical
charm" of style and homely diction,^ smacking of the flavor
of the soil he urges the reader to cultivate, he seems ahve;
he awakens a responsive glow.
Markham 's literary activities were not confined to pam-
phlets. Belles-lettres early attracted him, although with
modest sincerity he desclaimed to be any more than a
humble worshipper at the shrine of the Muses. In his
preface to the Tears of the Beloved he offers to the "Christian
1 Harte speaks of his many thefts; Hazlitt says he was an "adept"
in inserting his name.
* H. G. Aldis, Cambridge History of Eng. lAL, Vol. IV, p. 418.
' Cambridge History of Eng. Lit., Vol. IV, Chap. XII: Writers on
Country Pursuits and Pastimes.
* His first work, A Discourse of Horsmanshippe, 1593, is dedicated
to his father; and in a letter written to Sir John Markham of Ollerton,
who had quarreled with his father and called Jervase a "lyinge Knave,"
he says: "but for 'lyinge knave' w*^ him dwell it w''^ unjustly gave it
me, and doe but name hym that will in equal place so name me, and I
will eyther give my soul to god or thrust y® lyinge knave unto hys
bossome. S'' imagin me as you wTyte me to be trulye my father's
Sonne, so have I trulye a feelinge of my father's indignities." Lam-
beth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
5 Aldis, p. 425.
128 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Reader" the fruits of "my harsh and untuned Muse,"
and he speaks of his talent as "slender and simple." Again,
in a letter to an irascible kinsman, who had called him "a
poetycall lyinge knave," he rephes: "For my love to poesye
if it be an error, I confess my selfe faultye, and have w'^ as
greate hartynes as ever I grieved for any sinne comytted
gaynst the hyest, mourned for myne howers mispent in y^
feather-Hght studye, yet can I name many noble person-
ages who w**" greater desyer, and more fervencie have
cortynued and boasted in y^ humor, w*^^ thoughe in others
it be excellent, in my selfe I loathe and utterlye abhorr it."'
In the same year that A Discourse of Horsmanshippe
appeared,^ the Stationers' Register mentions a Thyrsis and
Daphne,^ now lost, but undoubtedly, as Mr. Fleay con-
jectured, "an amatory poem" similar in treatment to
Venus and Adonis."^ This was followed two years later by
his popular Honorable Tragedie of Sir Richard Grinvile
Knight, a tedious, halting story in verse, burdened with
■classical allusions and conceits, of the gallant fight against
Spain, and by his rehgious Poem of Poems, or Sions muse.
In addition to these and later original poems,^ he trans-
lated from the French of Desportes ^ and of Madame Gene-
vieve Petau Maulette,^ and probably from the Italian.*
He also continued, most prosaically,'' Sidney's Arcadia.
1 Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
2 1593.
3 April 23, 1593.
■• Fleay, Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, p. 5S.
s The Tears of the Beloved, 1600; Marie Magdalene's Lamentations,
1601.
6 Rodmouth's I nf email, or the Diuell conquered, 1608; the first edi-
tion was in 1598.
' Devoreux's Vertues Tears, 1597-8.
* The Famous Whore, or The Noble Curtizan, 1609.
9 The English Arcadia, 1607, and The Second and Last Part of the
First Book of the English Arcadia, 1613.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 129
The stage, also, naturally attracted Markham; a comedy,
The Dumbe Knight,'^ and a tragedy, Herod and Antipater,'^
are additional evidence of his industry and popularity.
The former, drawn in the main from Bandello,' is not without
merit. Mr. Fleay, with that vision that has often helped
to solve many problems of the Elizabethan period, assigned,
I believe correctly, the humorous, satirical underplot, com-
prising the story of the miserly Prate, his silly wife Lollia,
the bawd Collaquintida, the obscene clerk President, the
blunt soldier lover Alphonso, and other minor characters
to Markham.^ The fun in this plaj' is not of the finest or
of the cleanest, but jMarkham shows genuine ability in
creating character by a few impressionistic touches, and he
is not lacking a certain lively animation and a good-natured
cynicism which help to raise his scenes above mediocrity and
often furnish real diversion.
And so we can appreciate to a degree the indefatigable
industry of Jervase Markham, an industry which apparently
rejected nothing that his popularity would sell and which
did not hesitate to repeat even verbatim, with an impudent
but ingenuous assurance, what he had before offered to a
guileless public.^ Travail of authorship caused him little
labor. With a capacious memory, stored with a motley
wealth of classical and medieval learning drawn from many
' 1608. Lewis Machin collaborated in this play. It is published in
Dodsley's Old Plays, Vol. IV, 1780 edition.
^ 1622. It was acted several times before publication. William
Sampson collaborated.
^ Langbaine first mentioned the source.
* Fleay, Biographical Chronicle, Vol. II, p. 58.
* This undoubtedly led to the famous entry in the Stationers' Register
signed by Markham to write no more books and cause "bookes to be
printed of the Descases or cures of any Cattle, as Horse, Oxe, Cowe,
Sheepe, Swine and Goates." Cf. Arber, Transcript of the Stationers'
Register, Vol. Ill, p. 317.
130 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
storehouses, and aided by a keen power of observation
and a quaint fund of popular lore, he valiantly entered the
lists of authorship with the contemporary giants and was
not driven from the field discreditably. Though Jonson,
arrogant in a real superiority, may tell Drummond that
Markham "was not of the number of the faithful [i.e.
Poets], and but a base fellow," ^ and the youthful Hall
may jeer at the " Ink-hornisms " and " hght-skirts " of
"the holy spouse of Christ" in the Song of Solomon,^ still
even in his youth Markham was not despised. Meres and
Bodenham mention him;^ Guilpin writes that though he
is "censur'd for his want of plot," still "his Subject's rich,"
and that "his Muse soares a falcons gallant pitch";* and
again, England's Parnassus has as many as forty-seven
quotations attributed to Marldiam, a convincing sign of his
popularity as a poet.^
The tests which we appHed to Marston concerning the
authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis are most significant
when Markham is considered. They lead, indeed, taken
in conjunction with several additional points to be advanced
later, to the conviction that Jervase Markham planned to
capture public fancy in a new field. We have seen, to
enumerate again, that the author of this manuscript signed
himself J. M. gent, that his name was French, although his
^ Ben Jonson's Conversations with William Drummond, ed. by
David Laing, Shakespeare Society Publication, 8-10, p. xi.
^ Hall, Virgidemiarum, Lib. I, Sat. VIII.
3 Meres, Palladis Tamia, New Shakspere Society, Series 4, I, p. 163;
Bodenham, Belvedere or The Garden of the Muses, Spenser Society,
Vol. 17, in the address to the Reader.
* Guilpin, Skialetheia, Satyre VI, ed. Grosart, Occasional Issues,
Vol. VI, p. 63.
6 England's Parnassus, ed. Charles Crawford. Mr. Crawford says
that twenty-two of Markham's quotations have been traced; twenty-
five are untraced. Cf. p. xliii.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 131
family did not come in with the Conqueror; that he was a
soldier, serving at Cadiz, and also in Ireland and Flanders;
that he was in sympathy with the Puritans; that he was an
admirer of the ill-starred Essex; that he was a man familiar
with the country pursuits; that he loved trees, flowers,
herbs, and possessed a fund of quaint learning in regard to
their practical uses; that he was a man of wide reading and
culture, expressing a preference for Cambridge; that he had
even before this work written poetry; that he was devoted
to his father; that he lived on the "outmost side" of the
East Angles; and that he possessed a homely, vernacular
style.
During Markham's lifetime we find his name, Jervase,
spelled in various ways. The Stationers' Register, when it
gives the author of the newly licensed work, frequently
refers to him as J. M., I. M., or Jervis Markham.^ Many of
his works, when published, printed his Christian name be-
ginning with a J. or an I., the latter in the EHzabethan
period often being used in place of the capital J. His first
extant work,^ A Discourse of Horsnianshippe, has its dedi-
cation to his father signed Jervas Markham. Again,
Sir Richard Grinvile Knight has some of its prefatory son-
nets signed /. M., but its dedication to "lord Montioy"
has Markham's name at length commencing with a J.
Devoreux or Vertues Teares,^ Teares of the Beloved^ some
copies of The Dumbe Knight,^ and the forty-seven quotations
in England's Parnassus, assigned to Markham, are all
signed with the Christian name commencing with a J. or
1 Examples: 22 May, 1613; 25 June, 1619.
2 1593.
3 1597.
* 1600. Cf. the original title-page in Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Li-
brary, Vol. II, p. 490.
^ Cf. Fleay, Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, Vol. II,
p. 58.
132 THE NETV^ METAMORPHOSIS
with the initial J. or I.^ The entry of his burial in the
Register of St. Giles, Cripplegate, is conclusive proof that
the J. was frequently and authoritatively used. The
burial entry reads, "1636/7 Feb. 3. Jarvis Markham,
gent." 2
An entry in the Stationers' Register ^ promising to cease
writing treatises on specified subjects, and a letter written
in support of his father in a family contention * are both
signed Gends. But in these two instances the name is
printed, and IVIarkham, a penman of no mean skill, fond of
ornamental flourishes, possibly took more pleasure in print-
ing the capital G with its possibihties of ornamentation than
the simple J. or I. It may also be of interest to state at this
point that the printed capital G in both these documents
can be found many times with all its peculiarities in The Newe
Metamorphosis where a capital G is used.^ It is also a
matter of some significance that the Christian name of
Chaucer is spelt in this manuscript commencing with a J.^
The title "gent" we have seen used in his burial entry.
It is also found in the entry just mentioned in the Stationers*
Register and in some of the dedications to his works. Mark-
ham was of an eminent family and had the right to use the
title "gentleman." Indeed, The Newe Metamorphosis sev-
1 I have not been able to verify some of the above statements con-
cerning the'spelling of his Christian name because of the dearth of Mark-
ham material in this country and the difficuhy of communicating
with England during the war. I base some of my statements on ma-
terial found in Warton, History of the English People, Vol. IV, p. 113,
note k; J. Payne ColUer; Fleay, etc.
2 Cf. Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 485.
2 Cf. Arber's Transcript, Vol. Ill, p. 317.
* Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
5 At this period formation of letters and spelling of words present
many difficulties. In the manuscript under discussion we have two
very dissimilar capital G's, M's, J's, etc., often used on the same page.
« Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 verso.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 133
eral times expresses with much bitterness the author's
contempt for the "new rich" of his period, and he attacks
at length the practice of King James to sell to any one with
the money to pay the fee the title of gentleman or knight-
hood. ^
Since J. M. gent, could easily refer to Jervase Markham,
the next point to consider in the search for the author is the
couplet written at the bottom of the page and having no
connection with the poem itself,
"My name is Frenche, to tell yo" in a worde
Yet came not in with Conqueringe William's sworde."
These words, as we have seen,^ have caused the few who
have glanced at this work much confusion; indeed, it was
these two lines that deterred Mr. HalHwell-Phinipps, and
probably Mr. Grosart and Mr. Bullen, from attributing
The Newe Metamorphosis definitely to John Marston.
This couplet was evidently jotted down as an after-
thought. On the same folio the author addresses his
"Booke," and directly above these two verses is the begin-
ning of "The Epistle dedicatorie." J. M. knew, without
doubt, that his initials, J. M., would tell his public the
identity of the author. If J. M. were Markham, he had
already, even before 1600, won an enviable place for popu-
larity among his contemporaries. If the title-page were
written in 1615, the time of the completion of the manuscript
from internal evidence, he occupied even a more assured
position among those vending their wares among the various
publishers.^ The author, in this instance, was indulging
^ Examples of this are Vol. II, Book IV, fos. 71 verso ff., and
Book VII, fos. 262 verso ff.
2 Chap. II.
' The date 1600 on the two title-pages and the crossing out and
rewriting of parts of these pages make it probable that they were
written in 1600.
134 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
in a bit of pleasantry with his future readers. He possessed,
as we know, a fund of happy humor; he took delight in
indulging in a httle innocent raillery concerning his French
name, Gervase. He undoubtedly alluded to the French-
English combination in his name in much the same spirit as
Matthew Arnold, who also occasioned confusion to some too
careful commentators, spoke of the " Semetico-Saxon "
mixture of his.^ In both cases the reference is obvious.
In addition, this short couplet smacks of an honest pride
in family; it tells of the origin of the Markhams. We
have seen how Claron, their ancestor, was a follower of
Edward the Confessor, but how, in spite of the Conquest,
he kept part of his lands in West and East Markham in
Nottingham under the Norman retainer of William, Roger
de Bush. His descendants took pride in their antiquity,
and both the brother of Jervase and the later writers of the
family genealogy mention conspicuously this fact of ante-
dating the Conqueror.2
There is some possibility, however, that Jervase Markham
may have referred in this couplet to the fact that the early
ancestors of his family had called themselves Lords of Marc-
ham and had written their name De Marcham for many
generations. Personally, I feel the first explanation con-
cerning his name Jervase being French in origin is the more
plausible and is sufficient.
The next point to be considered is the fact that J. M.
gent, was a soldier, serving his queen in Ireland, in Flanders,
and in the expeditions against Spain in 1596 and 1597.^
^ Cf. Arnold, Study of Celtic Literature, and Notes and Queries,
9 Series, No. 7, p. 77; Vol. VI, pp. 466, 491, 513.
^ Francis Markham, Genealogy or Petigre of the Markhams; D. F.
Markham, A History of the Markham Family; Sir C. Markham,
Markham Memorials.
3 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 73 ff.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 135
That Markham was a soldier, we know; that he served in
Ireland and in Flanders is a matter of record.^ It is most
significant, however, that in Ireland he was stationed in
Connaught. Sir John Harrington, his courtier-cousin and
the godson of EHzabeth, who served under Essex and was
knighted by him in the campaign against Tyrone, writes
to a friend that when the English forces in Ireland were
divided, some were sent to Munster, "some to Lesly, many
into the North and a few into Connoght; it was partly my
hap, and partly my choice, for Sir Griffin Markham's^ sake,
and three Markhams more to go into Connoght"^; and
later he adds that the "three sons of my cousin Robert
Markham of Cottam have in their several kinds and places
offered me such courtesies, kindnesses, nay such services,
as if they held me for one of their best friends in Ireland."*
When it is recalled that J. M. also tells the reader he
served in Connaught, that he frequently refers to its wild
kerns and its scenery, that he places several of his stories
in this environment, even relating how Galway, its principal
town, was founded,^ there seems to be some reason to assume
that he was Markham.
In addition to serving in Ireland and Flanders, J. M.,
as we have seen, took part in the storming of Cadiz. In-
deed, he describes at length that expedition. No mention
has been made of Markham taking part in this adventure.
We know from contemporary records how it attracted the
plumed and ruffled courtier, the reckless man of fortune,
^ Markham, A History of the Markham Family, p. 34; Cornelius
Brown, Lives of Nottingham Worthies, pp. 167-169, etc.
^ A cousin to Jervase and later implicated in the Bye Plot. He was
a colonel of horse in this expedition.
' Harrington, Nugae Antiquae, Vol. I, pp. 253-254.
^ Ibid., Vol. I, p. 260. The brothers were Francis, Jervis, and
Godfrey.
' Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 76 ff.
136 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
and, indeed, many of those who looked for glory and hazard
under the inspiring leadership of the Howards, Vere, Ralegh,
and Essex. Sir Francis Vere brought a thousand veterans
from Flanders to help the English arms,^ and Jervase Mark-
ham, who had been serving under him, may have been one of
these; or like his great contemporary, Donne, he may have
been among those many ''most worthy knights and gentle-
men of great worth "^ who, craving excitement in those
"spacious days," sought it against the Spaniard.
But Markham has left us record in his prose works that
he had visited both Spain and the Azores. Spain, even
after the treaty of peace in 1604, was not a safe place for
English travelers, who frequently fell victim to the Inqui-
sition,^ and only in rare instances did a Protestant from the
despised British Isles venture to hazard the danger. Con-
sequently, it can be advanced with a degree of certainty that
when Markham, a professional soldier, serving under both
Essex and Vere, tells his readers "I have for mine own part
seen in the Island of Azores, certain very large caves, or
pits made under the earth ... for mine own part, I my
self digged up many of these pits " '' in order to see how corn is
preserved; that "I my self observed both in Spain and in
the neighboring Islands"^ the growing of lentils; and how
goats are preserved in Spain and the Island of Azores "for
the chase and hunting," ^ he probably followed his leaders
in the expedition against Cadiz and the Azores, and in this
1 C. R. Markham, The Fighting Veres, p. 218. Sir William Monson
says that "one thousand of the prime soldiers of the Low Countries
followed Vere in the Azores expedition. Cf. Churchill, A Collection of
Voyages and Travels, Vol. Ill, p. 172."
2 Hakluyt's Voyages, London, 1810 ed., Vol. II, p. 19.
3 J. G. Montague, History of England, 1603-1660, p. 53.
"• Markham's His Farewel to Husbandry, London, 1684, pp. 90-91.
5 Ibid., p. 98.
^ Markham, Cheap and Good Husbandry, p. 96.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 137
way observed those customs which he later spoke of in his
several pamphlets.
And so J. M., the soldier, serving in Spain, Ireland, and
Flanders, may well be Jervase Markham, soldier, adven-
turer, and scholar, following the fortunes of war in the same
lands.
It has also been shown that /. M. was a Puritan or, at
least, had sympathy for that rapidly growing and harshly
lampooned sect,^ and that frequently in The Newe Metamor-
phosis he not only defends the sober descendants of Martin
Marprelate, but he also surprises the reader of some of his
flagrantly obscene stories by his devout and childhke faith
in God. INIarkham, also, is conspicuous for a tranquil,
quaint piety, so refreshing and simple that it lends much
charm to his counsels to the horseman, the farrier, the
housewife, the angler, and all the varied company whom he
addresses. Even the "Labourer" in the most humble
of field work is directed "to go about all with prayer and
composedness of spirit." ^ Examples of this quiet faith
are legion. In one of his happiest pamphlets,^ in speaking
of angling, he says the sport which is the "most comely,
most honest, and giveth the most hberty to Divine Medi-
tations and that without all question is the art of Angling
which having ever been most hurtlessly necessary, hath been
the sport of Recreation of Gods Saints, of most holy fathers,
and of many worthy and Reverend Divines, both dead, and
at this tune breathing." A little later he writes that "Dice-
play, Cards, Bowls, or any other sport where money is the
goal to which men's minds are directed, what can mans
avarice there be accounted other then a familhar Robbery,
each seeing by deceit to couzen and spoyl others of the bUss
1 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 83 ff.
2 Grosart, Fuller Worthies', Vol. II, p. 469.
' Country Contentments, 1683 ed., pp. 47 ff.
138 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
of means which God hath bestowed to support them and
their famiUes." ^ Again, in speaking of the "inward quah-
ties" of a good angler, he saya that in order to remove
"melancholy, heaviness of his thoughts, or the pertur-
bations of his own fancies" he should sing "some godly
Hymn or Anthem, of which David gives him ample ex-
amples." ^ The angler must also "ever think where the
waters are pleasant, and anything Hkely, that there the
Creator of all good things hath stored up much of plenty."
Again in his The English House-wife, Markham tells the
reader that the "Mother and Mistress of the family" must
above all things "be of upright and sincere Religion, and in
the same both zealous and constant ... to utter forth by
the instruction of her Ufe, those fruits of good hving, which
shall be pleasing both to God and his Creatures. . . .
But let your English House-wife be a godly, constant, and
religious woman, learning from the worthy Preacher, and
her Husband, those good examples which she shall with all
careful diligence see exercised amongst her Servants, . . .
a small time, morning and evening, bestowed in prayers,
and other exercises of Religion will prove no lost time at
the weeks end." ^
Surely in these words speaks a devout man, one who
carries his belief in his Maker into his daily activities.
He may not be a Puritan ; but at least it is probable he was
in sympathy with their earnest faith and resented the unjust
attacks on them.
This tone of unaffected piety colors even his early poetry;
The poem of Poems, or Sions Muse, The Teares of the Beloved,
and Marie Magdalen^s Lamentaiions show this interest in
reUgion. The conclusion to his words "To the Christian
1 Country Contentments, p. 48.
2 Ibid., p. 60.
^ The English House-wife, p. 2.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 139
Reader," prefacing The Teares of the Beloved, is of interest
in this connection. Markham writes, "The Highest con-
tinue His favors and graces unto His Church, and shield us
in these dangerous dayes from His and our enemies, Amen." ^
He wrote these words in 1600 when England, especially
puritan England, feared a return to Roman CathoUcism.
Elizabeth, old and feeble, was more than ever the center of
intrigue; Essex, his campaign in Ireland a failure, threat-
ened open rebelHon; Spain seemed planning another attempt
at invasion, and, aided ahnost openly by papists in England,
was aiming to keep the succession from the Protestant
James. Indeed, so fearful were the Puritans of this that at
the queen's death in 1603 they embarked in boats to prevent
a popish invasion from Flanders.^
And Markham also resembles J. M. in the intermingling
of ribald jest and coarse tales with earnest attacks on social
and moral abuses. He can turn with zest from religious
poetry and expressions of faith in God to the calculating
cynicism of the bawd, Collaquintido, and the revolting
filth of the clerk. President.^ The attacks on swearing,
gambling, excessive drinking, disrespect to parents in juxta-
position to licentious tales are found so frequently in both
the manuscript and in his accepted works that even to the
casual reader The Newe Metamorphosis seems to resemble
the work of Markham.
J. M.'s devotion to Essex is also connected with his
attitude toward the Puritans, since Essex was the accepted
leader of this party and the most bitter and relentless op-
ponent of Spain, It was Essex who for several years kept
in secret communication with the young king of Scotland,
fostering his succession in England. J. M., as we have seen,
1 Grosart, Fuller Worthies', Vol. II, p. 492.
^ Trevelyan, England under the Stuarts, p. 75.
' The Dumbe Knight.
140 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
praised Essex ^ in the strongest terms, denying that he was
a traitor, even in spite of the court's disapproval of any
mention of the ill-starred favorite."^ But Markham, if he
were J. M., had even additional reasons to express this
admiration. As we know, he had served under Essex in
Ireland and had possibly fought with him in France.^ He
translated from the French Devoreux or Vertues Teares, a
lament for Walter Devoreux, the brilliant younger brother
of Essex; he dedicated Sions Muse to Essex' stepdaughter,
the child of Sidney; and later in life he included Essex in
his Honour in his Perfection,'^ together with his friend and
comrade, the Earl of Southampton. He had many reasons
to praise the brilliant Essex, indeed, to be grateful to him.
He paid his debt in the only way in his power. This loyalty
to Essex, found in both the work of Markham and in the
manuscript, strengthens the belief that Markham was /. M.
The next point to be considered scarcely needs discussion.
J. M. knew the country and its pursuits, and he loved trees,
flowers, and herbs, possessing a fund of quaint learning con-
cerning their practical uses.^ He was a lover of the out-of-
doors, a man of abounding vitaUty and with a catholicity
of interests, especially in rural affairs. Markham, as we
know, gained his reputation and probably earned his liveli-
hood because of his intimate knowledge of country life.
His amazing number of treatises on the horse, his pamphlets
on husbandry, his works on country recreations, cures for
1 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 87 ff.
2 The disapproval of Essex continued for several years after his
execution. Daniels' Philotas was suppressed in 1606 because of its
commendation of Essex. The passage written by J. M. comes in
what seems to be early work.
^ Francis Markham tells us in his Memorials of his receiving a
captaincy from Essex in France.
' 1624.
6 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 88 ff.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 141
cattle and recipes for the housewife are well known. The
significant fact is that J. M. possesses the same wealth of
information and the same kind of information. Mark-
ham's charming advice to the angler,^ that he "ought to be
a general SchoUer, and seen in all the Liberal Sciences,"
is not only loosely paraphrased by that most delightful of
all fishermen, the gentle Walton, but also in the playful
lines already quoted from The Newe Metamorphosis in which
the rude Martin is told,
ffishing's an Arte.^
And there are innumerable instances of this kind. J. M.'s
frequent lists of incentives for lust ^ are found almost paral-
leled in President's recommendations to the miserly Prate.'*
Markham ^ tells his reader to use "chast thoughts" in June;
in July to shun "Wine, Women" and all "wantonness";
and in August to beware of "feasts" and all excitement.
J. M. warns us that three months after May "faire Venus
is forbid to play."'' The fondness for flowers and herbs and
their uses,'' the pleasure in animals, the interest in tillage,
the delight in quaint lore found so abundantly in the manu-
script, all add to the conviction that Markliam is the author
of The Newe Metamorphosis.
The fact that J. M. was a man of wide reading, that he
knew many languages, referring to books in French, Italian,
Latin, and Spanish,^ is true not only of Markham but also
of many of his contemporaries. The reference, however,
1 Country Contentments, p. 60.
2 Cf. Chap. HI, p. 9.3.
3 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 98.
* The Dumbe Knight, p. 427. Dodsley, Old Plays, 1780.
6 Fareivel to Husbandry, 1684, pp. 123 ff.
8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 10.
7 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 95 ff.
8 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 102.
142 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
to many names, especially of writers of former centuries, so
common in the manuscript and in the accredited works of
Markham, is of significance; for this assumption of authority
based on extensive consultation of sources is typical of the
work of both J. M. and of Markham. In The Newe Meta-
morphosis frequent references are made to classical authors,
to writers of chronicles, and especially to Church authorities,
but sources for the more popular material are not mentioned.
This same thing is true of Markham. He is a clever and at
times an unscrupulous pilferer of other men's work; but he
is also most ready to concede that he has a source, especially
if such a concession might make his wares of more import-
ance. Pliny, as also in The Newe Metamorphosis, is often
referred to in the pamphlets, and other classical authors
are mentioned.^ Former writers on agricultural subjects
are frequently named. In the space of a page, in a treatise
of how to enrich the soil,- he refers to Sir Walter Henly, a
former authority on husbandry, and quotes in Latin from
Columella. The title-page to his Maison rustique, or The
Country farme,^ is characteristic ; he tells the reader that it
was first "compiled in the French tongue by C. Stevens
and J. Liebault," but that it is "now new revised, cor-
rected, and augmented . . . out of the works of Serres, his
Agriculture, Vinet, his Maison Champestre . . . Allyterio
. . . Grillo . . . and other authors." Truly this is an im-
posing list of names. French, Spanish, and Italian are im-
partially included to impress the buyer with Markham's
mastery of his subject.
When we turn to The Newe Metamorphosis * we meet
1 Example: The Inrichment of the Weald of Kent, pp. 6, 12, 1683
edition.
2 Ibid., pp. 9-10. 3 1616.
' Cf. Vol. I, Part II, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X. The long list of
authors and of books concerning the Church in Vol. II, fos. 53 verso ff.,
is an admirable example.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 143
again this pleasure, scarcely unctuous because it is so naive,
of displaying an acquaintance with a remarkable variety
of sources drawn from many lands. J. M. speaks with the
same tone of authority; he demands from his reader the
same admiration for his infallibility in his field; he over-
whelms his audience. As the "barker" of to-day forces
at least a grudging attention from the passer-by and often
wheedles even from the wary a coin or two, so J. M., like
Markham, compels attention and a certain unwilhng respect
by his clever marshaling of pretentious names.
Then, too, the fact that /. M. speaks of Cambridge as
England's "most famous University" and mentions only
three of its colleges, Trinity, St. John's, and Queen's Chapel,^
is interesting in connection with what we know of Markham.
Markham's home was not many miles north of the great
university, and he must have visited it often both in travel-
ing to the capital and for other causes. He had every reason
to honor Cambridge; Essex, his general and patron, went
to Trinity, and his brother Francis tells us in his Memoranda
that his father "put me to Trinity College in Cambridge,''
but because he "contemned" his tutor he "went to y'
warrs." Indeed, Jervase himself may have been a student
at this university. His knowledge of the classics and even
his sympathy for the Puritan cause would add strength
to this supposition. There is no record left at Trinity
College of his brother Francis' enrollment; ^ that of Jervase
may also have been lost.
The statements of J. M. that he is a poet, indeed a "poore
poet" and a writer of "course Ryme," and that he has earUer
sought public recognition with verse, but that his "purse
was bare," also agree with what we know of Markham.
Like the author's mention of Cambridge, this agreement
1 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 103.
^ Athenae Cantabrigienses mentions no Markham.
e
144 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
does not materially strengthen the argument that J. M.
and Markham were one, but it assured^ removes any
discrepancy and shows that in all the references in the
manuscript to the author there is nothing to weaken the
assertion that Markham wrote The Newe Metamorphosis.
Markham also had written poetry before 1600. He had
published by the beginning of the new century his Thyrsis
and Daphne,^ The Most Honorable Tragedie of Sir Richard
Grinvile, Knight,^ The Poem of Poems, or Sions Miise,^
Devoreux, or Vertues Teares,* and The Teares of the Beloved^
Indeed, since many of the quotations assigned to him in
England's Parnassus cannot be traced in his extant work,^
it is probable that besides Thyrsis and Daphne additional
work of Markham has been lost. In his pamphlets, as it
has been pointed out, he emphasizes with delight his eminent
qualifications to write on the subject concerned. But in
his verse he assumes a different attitude; with apparent
sincerity he takes on the humility of J. M. In spite of the
fact that he had won recognition for his poetry, he calls his
Muse "harsh and untuned," his talent ''slender and simple," ^
and he writes to his kinsman who had called him a "poeticall
lyinge knave" that the love of poetry, "thoughe in others
it be excellent, in myself I loathe and utterlye abhor it."^
Modesty and self-deprecation among authors were not
general in the time of Markham; but with Markham as the
J. M. of the manuscript, we can understand the references
in the prologue to "Myne infante Muse" and "my newe-
borne poesie," and to the many slighting lines concerning
his poetical gift.
1 Entered in the Stationers' Register, 1593.
2 1595. 3 1595. 4 1597. 5 iqqq
^ Cf. England's Parnassus, ed. Charles Crawford, p. xliii.
' Cf. The Teares of the Beloved, Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library,
Vol. II, p. 492.
* Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65\
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 145
The fact that J. M. appears to be a devoted son to a much
loved father ^ is equally true of Jervase Markham. Con-
cerning his love for his father, we know that he had much
respect and affection for him. His first extant w^ork, A
Discourse of Horsmanshippe, is dedicated to Robert Markham
of Gotham, and in the letter, already mentioned, he writes
to the uncle who maligned him that he was "trulye my
father's sonne, so have I trulye a feelinge of my father's
indignities." "- A frank, generous man was Jervase Mark-
ham, attractively human in his strength and weakness.
His defense of his father accords well with his unaffected
piety and makes his reader forgive much of his harmless
bluster and swagger. And when J. M. exclaims concerning
unnatural sons:
I would not banish them that thus should deale
least parents indulgence, in tyme should heale
this plaugey scare, & then rewake againe
but in a boate I'de set them on the mayne
w[i]thout or sails to drive, or meate to eate
bound hande & foots, 't would pull downe stomacks greate
and make these monsters of man kynde forbeare
if not for love, yet at the least for feare.
Not w[i]thout cause men say, love doth discende
downe to the childe, but backward not ascence
but shall sonnes therfore thus unnaturall prove?
is this the recompense of paternall love? ^
surely it may be Markham who arraigns "this enormous
vice." Indeed, it is possible that in this passage, in which
he is telhng the story of an ungrateful eldest son, he might
have had in mind that "fatal unthrift," his own eldest
1 Cf. Chap. HI, pp. 103 fT.
2 Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
3 Vol. II, fol. 10.5. The wTiter continues at much length with ex-
amples of good sons. He starts with "Eneas."
146 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
brother, Robert, who utterly ruined the fortunes of his
family.^
The next point to be considered is the statement of J. M.
that he hved on the "outmost side" of the East Angles.^
The territory of the East Angles not only comprised the
modern counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridge, and Ely,^
but it extended north and west over the vast expanse of
marshlands to the higher ground of Nottingham.* Floria-
censis, writing in about 970, says that East Angha is almost
surrounded by water.^ It has the ocean on the east and
southeast, and in the north an inunense tract of morass
which rises near the center of England and falls from the
level of the country to the ocean in a course of more than
one hundred miles. The "outmost side" of the East Angles,
''yet not in Essex," necessarily leads one to the conclusion
that J. M. hved near Newark-upon-Trent, the northwestern
border of East Anglia. As Markham was born at Gotham
and undoubtedly spent much of his life in the vicinity of
this Httle village, a few miles south of Newark, J. M., in
this instance, seems to give additional evidence that he
might be Jervase Markham.
The last point to be considered — the homely, vernacular
style — scarcely needs discussion. The charm of Markham
in his prose works and in most of his narrative verse is this
homely simplicity, this fondness for the rugged vernacular
of his forefathers who did not "come in" with the Con-
queror. The Newe Metamorphosis is essentially a collection
of stories, not told in the stilted, affected fashion of The
1 Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, p. 344.
2 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 104.
3 Lingard, History of England, 1912, p. 16 and map, p. 18.
* Cf. Greene, The Conquest of England, 1884 edition; the map,
p. 316, shows East AngHa almost touching the Trent at Newark.
^ Camden, Britannia, p. 152.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 147
Teares of the Beloved or the Sir Richard Grinvile, both written
by an ambitious young aspirant for fame, but expressed
with all the racy vigor of the Markham at home with his
subject and understanding his audience. And not only
is its colloquiahsm that of Markham, but the folklore, the
proverbs, the pithy turns of expression, which are found so
abundantly in The Newe Metamorphosis and lend it flavor,
are all typical of him.
But even the delight in classical allusions and heavy con-
ceits which mars the serious poetical work of Markham
can be found in The Newe Metamorphosis. Reference to
the mythology of Greece and Rome becomes wearisome
and, at times, puzzles the readers; for frequently some love-
seeking divinity is called by several names. And when the
author attempts a "grand manner," he betrays all the faults
of Markham's early verse in the labored metaphor and the
bizarre conceits,^ interrupted by strikingly homely and
characteristic hnes, devoid of all the hit and melody of poetic
inspiration.
In this connection, it is interesting to compare The Teares
of the Beloved with the stanzas in The Newe Metamorphosis,
written by an ardent lover to his cruel mistress.^ These
Hnes are the only exception to the couplet in which the
manuscript is written. Its stanza, made famous by Shak-
spere in Venus and Adonis, is the same as that of Markham's
two sacred poems, and the almost exclusive prevalence of
the masculine rime, the clogged movement of the verse,
the prosaic expressions, the labored ornamentations in these
poems, are markedly similar in spite of the widest divergence
of subject.
1 Examples: the prayer of thanksgivdng of Elizabeth after the
defeat of the Armada, and the eulogy of the queen, Vol. I, Part II,
fos. 135 verso ff.
* Vol. II, fos. 17 ff.
148 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
I quote two stanzas at random from the manuscript and
from The Teares of the Beloved:
"Of rocky substance did Pigmalion
make a faire woman, was 't not wondrous strange?
O fairer creature's nowe turn'd to a stone
from her senceless deedes will never change
senceles of my soules vexed misseries
caused by beauties charmed witcheries.
Grante, grante yee gods, that her harde diamond harte
may metamorphosed be to softest mould
greate Cupid thou helpe w**^ thy burning darte
she burne w''^ heate, rather than frize w^^ colde
grante, grante, yee heavenly powers this my request
w'^^ if you doe I shalbe ever blest." ^
"My sweetest Sweete, my Lord, my love, my life,
The World's brighte lampe, farre clearer then the sunne,
What may this meane; caijnot I end tliis strife,
This ranckorous spight, by wicked Jewes begunne?
0 man most pure, for wretches most forlorne,
Must my great God to men be made a scorne? ^
Suffer my speech, who suffer now with grief e :
Death void of death ; for death here liveth still :
Barr'd from all hope, shut out from all reliefe,
Most sad complaints, my hearing now doth fill;
1 have no rest, but in unrest remaine :
No tongue, or penne, can well declare my paine." ^
In conclusion, it is evident that whenever the manuscript
becomes autobiographical or plainly indicates the prefer-
ences and the temperament of its author, it seems to point
to Markham. Markham had the right by birth to call
1 Vol. II, fos. 17 ff.
2 Grosart, Fuller Worthies', p. 526.
3 Ibid., p. 519.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 149
himself a gentleman, and he signed himself J. M., I. M.,
G. M. indiscriminately; in fact the entry of his burial calls
him Jarvis Markham; his name was French, and still his
family did not come to England with the Conqueror; he
was a soldier, serving in Spain, Flanders, and in Connaught,
Ireland; he was a man of simple piety, in sympathy with
the Puritans, and an admirer of Essex; he was an outdoor
man, knowing the problems of the agricultural laborer, the
pursuits of the country gentleman, and he possessed a
fund of quaint knowledge concerning horticulture and of
traditional folklore; he was a man of wide reading with
a fondness of displaying unusual sources of information;
he preferred Cambridge to Oxford, and Trinity College he
selected for particular mention: he was also devoted to his
father; he was a poet conscious of his limitations, who lived
on the "outmost" border of East Anglia; and he possessed
a simple, colloquial style, often hampered by an excessive
use of classical allusions.
There are some additional reasons, suggestive if not au-
thoritative, why we may ascribe this manuscript to Mark-
ham, For instance, when Miss Toulmin-Smith ^ asserts
that one who was notorious for his thefts from others could
not be the author of The Newe Metamorphosis because of the
Hnes in the Prologue:
to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe,
she really advances a strong argument in favor of Markham,
who, conscious of his shortcomings, was constantly pro-
claiming in his ingenious prefaces innocence of this very
offense. An example of this can be found in several of his
treatises where he denies repeating what he had written
earlier or disclaims plagiarism, in spite of the fact that he
1 The Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II, p. 483.
150 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
repeats almost verbatim what can be found in his other
works. He writes in one place:
To the best disposed Readers
Many and sundry may be the constructions and censures of
this Booke (Courteous and well disposed Reader) because I have
in former time written so largely of the subject contained herein;
but I would have no man mistaken in his own prejudicate opinion,
but truly understand, that this is neither Epitome, Relation, Ex-
traction, nor Repetition either of mine own, or any Author whatso-
ever.^
And again, in His Farewell to Husbandry,^ he asserts: "nor
do I in this Book intend to write any title that is in them
[former works] contained; for as I love not Tautology, so
I hate to wrong my friend."
Markham protests overmuch his honesty. The Sta-
tioners' Register Company, as has already been mentioned,
attempted to curtail his unscrupulous deceit of the public.^
Surely he was the man who would virtuously proclaim :
to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe.
In the next place the letter of Markham to his uncle,
who had called him a ''poeticall andlyinge knave," ^ although
it is, most unfortunately, not in script, but is written with
great care and skill in print letters, still throws interesting
light on the question of authorship. /. M., as we can see,
was proud of his skill as a penman. The many flourishes
and the different scripts in The Newe Metamorphosis, and,
indeed, the legibility and clearness of the long manuscript,
all make this evident. This letter, carefully composed and
sent to an irate uncle, bears evidence of labored effort both
1 Country Contentments, 1683 edition.
2 1684 edition, p. i.
3 "24th daie of July, 1617."
* Cf. Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 473.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 151
in its wording and in its appearance. The printing is excel-
lent, and it is of importance to us in determining the author-
ship of the poem, because, in spite of the fact of not being
in script, the slant, the formation of the letters, especially
of the capitals, and its individualities can all be found in
The Newe Metamorphosis. J. M. has a marked and repeated
tendency to continue the downward slope of the capitals
such as A, M, F, T, etc., with a sharp angle to the right
upon the line. This eccentricity is found in the letter,^
especially in the capital A. This characteristic is so unusual
that it strengthens materially the conviction that J. M.
is Markham.
The rancorous hatred of Spain which constantly inter-
rupts the stories and crops out even in narratives con-
cerning the pagan deities, although it was characteristic of
the period, is also of interest in this connection. Markham
had weighty reasons for this abhorrence. His leader and
patron, Essex, was the chief of the adversaries of Spain in
England, and furthermore, Markham's varied career as a
soldier had brought him into actual conflict with Spaniards
and their machinations, for even in Ireland Spanish gold and
Spanish priests helped to inflame the volatile peasantry and
the rebellious earls. He had undoubtedly seen many in-
stances of Spanish cruelty, especially in Flanders, and the
vitriolic outbursts concerning the treachery and cruelty
of the dangerous adversary of England, although they do
^ Handwriting experts tell me that it is impossible to afRrm with
certainty that the printed hand and the script are the same. They
agree, however, that the same mannerisms are found in both the
letter and the manuscript, and believe that J. M. is INIarkliam. Mr.
Wilmer R. Leech, Manuscript Division of the New York Public Li-
brary, was especially struck by the peculiarity mentioned above. In-
teresting pages for comparison are Vol. I, Part I, fos. 3, 20 verso, 36
verso, 78; Part II, fos. 1 verso, 2 verso, 134 verso: Vol. II, fol. 142.
152 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
not furnish any conclusive proof that J. M. was Markham,
still strengthen the evidence already advanced.
Furthermore the fact that in spite of J. M.'s detestation of
the Papacy and its followers, and of the support lent to the
schemes of Rome to undermine Protestantism in England,
he speaks in only a few lines ^ of the so-called Bye Plot
against James, in contrast to the many pages devoted to the
iniquities of the Gunpowder Plot and other attempts against
the life of either Elizabeth and James or against the Protes-
tant faith, lends additional weight to the belief that Mark-
ham was /. M. Sir Griffin Markham, the cousin of Jervase,
and the most conspicuous member of his house, a haughty,
restless soldier and follower of Essex, who was implicated in
this uprising, sadly impaired the family fortunes, according
to Francis Markham,^ "whereat our name disgraced."
Although the author of the Bye Plot was a Roman CathoHc
priest, William Watson, who was angered because James
continued to levy recusancy fines against his coreligionists,
most of those implicated were not of his faith. Ralegh
had favored the Puritans; Lord Grey was a leader of the
non-conformists; and Brooke, the brother of Lord Cobham,
was a stanch Protestant.^ J. M. mentions the conspirators
by names, deplores their "blacke conspiracie," and de-
clares that death should be the punishment; still he turns,
after a short half page, with apparent relief to the "Powder
Treason" and hurls with unflagging zest anathemas at
"Baynam," "Guydo Faulks," "Catsby," and especially
Garnet, who had betrayed the Bye Plot to the king.
Indeed, much of the fawning and servile praise of the
unkingly James, which occurs at frequent intervals in The
1 Vol. II, fol. 198 verso.
2 Memoranda. Cf. D. F. Markham, A History of the Markham
Family, pp. 31 ff.
3 F. C. Montague, Political History of Eiigland, Vol. VII, pp. 7 ff.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 153
Newe Metamorphosis ^ and cloys the reader, can be attributed
to the fact that Jervase Markham, possibly himself sus-
pected, was seeking pardon and renewed favor from his
sovereign for his house. It is true that many of his greater
contemporaries, especially at the death of Prince Henry,
bartered self-respect and even damaged their reputation
in the gross flattery they offered to the Stuart king, Mark-
ham had briUiant company in the role of sycophant. Still,
I like to believe that his attainted cousin furnished a more
legitimate cause for seeking recognition from the court than
that offered to some.^
We have seen that Markham helped in two plays, a
comedy, The Dumbe Knight, and a tragedy, Herod and Anti-
pater. J. M. also refers several times in a casual but in-
timate way to the theater and to city life. In spite of his
love for the country, he knew the town, as his vivid pictures
of gambling, London bawds, and Lord Mayor processions
all show. This familiarity with both the gayety of the city
and the sports of the country gentleman is also peculiar
to Markham who also was intimate with the life of the
capital; indeed, he takes dehght in showing this knowledge
in his many works. Even in the short letter to his uncle,
which has already been referred to, he resorts to a reference
to the theater. He writes that the enemies of the Mark-
ham family take pleasure in their dissension, and ".doe as
in a theater sytt and laughe at our ech others devouringe." ^
And even the lack of extended reference in the manu-
script to contemporaries, which is a matter of regret to the
1 Vol. II, Book X, fos. 197 verso ff., are excellent examples of this.
James is "A glorious Sum."
2 The entries to the Stationers' Register, 1612-1613, are interesting
in this connection. Chapman, Donne, Drummond, Wither, Campion,
were among this number.
' Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
154 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
reader, is also, as it has been pointed out, typical of Mark-
ham. J. M. may borrow from Sidney, Spenser, or the
satire of the day, but he does not acknowledge his debt.
When, however, he parallels with some closeness Venus and
Adonis, he naturally brings the filthy clerk President in
The Dumhe Knight to our mind, who also quotes at length
from Shakspere's youthful amatory poem. Mr. Fleay ^
made the assertion, which never gained support, that Mark-
ham because of certain dedications to Henry Wriothesley,
Earl of Southampton, might be the rival poet to whom
Shakspere referred.^ It has also been thought that Mark-
ham by his use of Venus and Adonis was attacking Shakspere
in The Dumhe Knight, especially censuring the salacious
character of the Ovidian poem. But as Markham had
published in 1593 a work ^ probably similar in character,
and since he uses this poem in both The Dumhe Knight and
in The Newe Metamorphosis, one may doubt any ulterior
motive except a knowledge and an admiration for the verse
of his contemporary. At least it is significant that in spite
of the scarcity of reference to the writers of the time in both
the manuscript and in the accepted works of Markham,
both J. M. and Markham use with freedom the Venus and
Adonis.
And so even his denial of "thefts from others," his letter
to his uncle, his detestation of Spain, his slight reference to
the Bye Plot, his knowledge of the stage, and his lack of
references to contemporary authors in the field of belles-
lettres, further strengthen the belief that J. M. was Jervase
Markham and that the popular author of diverse works in
prose, poetry, and drama sought to seek favor in a new
^ Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, pp. 59 ff.
2 Cf. Shakspere's Sonnets, 78-86.
' Thyrsis and Daphne.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 155
field ^ and possibly to enhance his reputation as a man of
letters.^
Since it has been shown with some degree of probability
that Markham is J. M., it is interesting to speculate again
why an author, so anxious to bid for pubHc recognition and
so fertile in his resources, did not publish The Newe Meta-
morphosis. There are possibly several reasons for this.
In the first place, the work is often crude; it would need
revision and Markham was a busy man. Then the very
length of the manuscript, its rambling character, its annoy-
ing digressions and multiplicity of motives, would cause
most pubUshers to hesitate before undertaking a venture
which presaged pecuniary loss. Drayton, a far greater
poet, in spite of royal and influential patrons, struggled
against despair in his efforts to interest an indifferent public
in his Poly-Olbion. And Markham, in spite of an ingenuity
almost amounting to genius in writing happy dedications
and in seeking powerful patrons, would have encountered
even greater obstacles. His poem was of greater length,
and, in addition, was of %uch a nature that sponsors
would be difficult to find. His animosity to Spain cropping
out so frequently, though popular in 1600, would arouse
bitterness in 1615, and possibly even lead to the suppression
^ This manuscript is not altogether a new type of work for Mark-
ham. In his additions to Sidney's Arcadia he assumed the role of a
writer of stories.
"^ In the manuscript there are many attacks on the goldsmith. In
Vol. I, Part II, fos. 28 ver.so ff., he states after a particularly severe
attack, he means no offense and that he is a goldsmith. In Vol. II,
fos. 154 verso ff., a goldsmith is again made a character in an obscene
story. J. M. evidently hates the goldsmith, the usurer of the time.
He says he is one probably in order to give him an opportunity to
attack the craft. Marston makes sport of the goldsmith in Master
Burnish in The Dutch Courtezan. Jonson in The Alchemist, Act. I,
Sc. I, says that Drugger is "no goldsmith."
156 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
of his work and to prosecution. His "booke," intended to
be dedicated to "a queen," the ardent enemy of Spain and
of Roman Cathohcism, could scarcely gain favor at the hands
of a Stuart king who had frequently coquetted with those of
his mother's faith, and who, in spite of bitter opposition at
home, was wooing the former implacable enemy. Indeed,
The Newe Metamorphosis, in spite of its servile tone towards
James and the royal family, is daringly bold at times in the
outspoken condemnation of existing abuses.^ The Mark-
ham family had suffered in its fortunes from the exile be-
cause of treason of Sir Griffin Markham. Jervase was
shrewd; he shunned trouble.
But it is possible that Markham was deterred from publica-
tion neither because of the extreme length of this manuscript,
nor because of the bitter tone towards matters of royal con-
cern. His Puritanism, always latent to a degree in his youth-
ful works, but growing in the course of years in strength
and conviction to a genuine, simple piety, would force him
to recognize that the nature of the material of The Newe
Metamorphosis was incongruous with his faith. The Mark-
ham of 1615 was not the Markham of 1600. The gay
narrator of salacious Ovidian tales and merry fabliaux had
suffered a metamorphosis into a serious middle-aged English-
man, struggling for a livelihood and fearful for the future
of his comedy. Impetuous youth had merged into re-
flective age. The careless follower of Essex and Vere,
the reckless soldier at Cadiz, the swashbuckling adventurer
of many campfires, the chivalrous and lusty lover of "Ma-
tilda faire" had become a champion of his country's faith
and honor against plotters at home and treacherous machin-
ations abroad. He was no longer the Markham of ribald
tales of illicit loves; he was the Markham of the fiery dia-
1 Vol. II has many examples of this. The plantations in Ulster and
Virginia are attacked, the selling of honors, etc.
THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 157
tribes against whatever is inimical to England. A man of
courage always, he had become the patriot; an earnest, in
a hmnble but honest way, of the overthrow of the despotic
Stuarts, indeed, of the glory of England in her present
struggle for the right.
The rude couplet which concludes the manuscript,
My leave I here of Poetrie doe take
For I have writte untill my hande doth ake.
Finis.^
not only finishes The Newe Metamorphosis, but also announces
Markham's farewell to the "feather-light"- Muse at whose
shrine he had modestly worshiped for many years. With
characteristic grandiloquence and assumption of authority,
he repeated at length^ before he wrote "Finis" the range
of subjects treated in the thousands of lines. The labor of
many years had come to an end. But was it a labor?
Surely our author has poured out in these hastily written
couplets his joy of youth and his meditation of age. The
impetuous ardor of the Elizabethan adventurer, the daunt-
less spirit so typical of those years of endeavor and achieve-
ment, gradually give way to a bitter anger. He forgets
the joyous intrigues of the easy-loving gods to become the
loyal patriot and mihtant Christian. Still he always shows
the intense curiosity for new experiences, the extravagant
enthusiasm and valiant assurance so characteristic of his
day; a day when literature was still to many an adventure
or a means to political preferment; an era when men, their
vaulting ambition recognizing no barriers, thought in con-
tinents and wrote with the same lavish prodigality. He
carries the stamp of his period.
1 Vol. II, fol. 268.
^ Letter in Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65).
5 Vol. II, fos. 267 ff.
158 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
It is true that Markham in this work has levied con-
tributions on all countries. Sources of the widest divergence
have been drawn upon to furnish enjoyment or information.
But chiefly in the many pages of The Newe Metamorphosis
he has revealed to us himself. He has left us a human
document of httle artistic worth when considered as poetry,
but of some real importance as a record of a vital and trans-
cendent age in the history of letters and of men. It may
not add materially to our knowledge of that period, but
it assuredly substantiates and at times amplifies our ac-
quaintance with that crowded stage of Elizabethan Hfe
and its galaxy of figures, Olympian in their splendid power
and weaknesses.
But The Newe Metamorphosis is worth consideration for
other reasons. It gives to the student of Hterature a col-
lection of stories, voluminous in bulk and comprehensive
in theme, in which are found homely wisdom, engaging
fun, scathing invective, generous admiration, simple devo-
tion, and fervid patriotism. The manuscript, indeed, brings
a new luster to the reputation of an interesting and attrac-
tive personaHty. Markham has long been regarded as the
authority of his day on rural occupations and recreations.
He has given the student valuable information concerning
the use of horses and the profession of the soldier. But
in The Newe Metamorphosis he takes honorable place in
another field in which he can justly claim an added appre-
ciation. He may paint his canvas with a coarse brush,
boldly splashing and smearing his effects; he may want
subtlety and imagination; he may lack tenderness. Still
his manly vigor, honest warmth, genuine appeal, and spon-
taneous flow of vigorous, clear, and unstudied narrative
give worth to the manuscript. The Newe Metamorphosis
is of interest because it is the work of Markham; it is of
value because of its own merits.
CHAPTER VI
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
The Prologue ^ of The Newe Metamorphosis
Uppon the publique stage, to Albions eye
I here presente my newe-borne poesie
not w*^ vaine glory puft to make me knowne
or Indian-like w*** feathers not myne owne
to decke my seKe, as many use to doe
to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe.
What then might make me undergoe this taske?
t' unvizar those w*^^ secretly doe maske
in self-conceipt, & their lewde actions showe
that all the world their villanies may knowe.
Not peevish envies hateful! rodde to use
and true-deservinge basely to abuse
I scorne & hate, for vertue I would praise
& vertuous men to heaven w*'^ poems raise
malhce I beare to none who e're me reade
for having spoken, all myne anger's deade
Myne infante Muse, longe studieng what to wright
at first resolved, some bloody warres t' endighte
but Love casierd ^ that thought w*^ his soft charms
sayeing that warre's best, w'"'^ can doe noe harme
my yeildinge mynde to him gave wallinge eare
but then straite wayes before me did appeare
large volumes & whole libraries compleate
of Love in lively colo""*, fyne & neate
1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 5 ff.
^ Greene, Groaisworlh of Wit, p. 2S: "He was cassierde " — our
cashiered.
159
160 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
w*'^ dasht my f oraier thoughts : and then thought I
of Country es strange I'le write a Historie
the wicked world to lewdnes most enclyn'd
banisht that thought as quickly as the wynde
(the whirle \vynde tempest) makes the dust to flie
farre from the place where it before did lie
and in rough Satyres, I did then intende
w*^ smartinge lynes the world to reprehende.
Nay then thought I, I may as well discover
the cheatinge world under a comicke-lover
for lovers lye, fawne, flatter & dissemble
& doe indeed Theatrians most resemble.
Then buskind Seneca, came to my mynde
Tragedian-hke, to write of deaths unkynde
of government of States, cities & townes
of Princes, Lords, of Peisants & of Clownes
strange murderinge massacres, & poisons fell
w°^ were devised by some foule feinde in hell.
But this mee thought did not my humo"" fitte
in these eche Pedant shewes his borrowed witte
nay all of these I'le touche; both one & all
not severally, but yet in generall
■even as a Flemish Gallemanfrey made
of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote and blade
so shall you fynde them in this booke conteinde
for some strange thinge to write, I onely ay'mde.
I ne're sawe any of o'" Nation yet
that me a patterne in this subiecte set
nor but one stranger, Ovid alone was he
that in this labo"" did incourage mee.
I from my harte doe hate the Parasite
even as the man that vertue doth backbite
what then is fitter for these impious tymes
then yrefull Satyres, clad in rugged rymes
harsh though my lynes be, yo" shall substance fynde
yo" that degenerating growe out of kynde
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 161
but smoother much unto the innocente
for such to please it is my cheife intente
though I goe on but in a hobhnge ryme
yet I may happe to meete w**^ them some tyme
whome better verse could never touche as yet
& make them storme, & rage, & fume, & frette
well, be it soe. I am content w*^^ all
sucke they sweete honey out of bitter gall
I have noe Poets pleasinge smoth-fyl'd veyne
but a ragg'd Satyrists rougher hewen straine
I not affecte curiositie of words
nyce elloquence my subiecte not affourds
Satyres are clothed in rough hairy skinnes
even such as I, they & my Muse are twinnes
nor yet will tyme p[er]mit me to bestowe
more labo"" on them, the rather for I knowe
bookes of this nature being once p[er]used
are then cast by & as braj^ed ware refused.
What subiecte then, thinke yo" I did finde out
to shewe the world infected w**^ the goute
w*^ pestilence, plague & rotten dropsie
of Pride, Deceipte & itchinge Lecherie
of superstition, Poperie & Treason
the traders in w°*^ are quite voide of reason.^
Ingratefulnes & tongue-tipt-tatlers
of Witchcraft, Lovers & damned Murderers
& others moe? Their strange Mutation
wrought by the Gods iuste Transformation.
And first w*^ them as order doth require
shape-changing-Jove, my feeble Muse enspire
and let thy daughters & Mnemosines
me of this heavy burden quicklj'^ ease
Matilda fayre, guide thou my wandring quill
who rul'est my harte, that vicious men & ill
to their eternall shame I may disgrace
& so extoU of righteous men the race,^
1 This couplet is in the margin.
162 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
my poore dull witte, richly doe thou inspire
inflame my braine w*^ Loves celestiall fyre
that I may lively in my rymes expresse
the secretst actions of rebyrednes
and show the ugliest face of horrid vice
that so here after it may none intice
that I may vertues thine to th' world expresse
for imitation, though thou art matchlesse,
for beauty rare & spotles chastety
well worth the praising to eternity.^
Gaynemed let me one cup of Nectar drinke,
although I come not at the Thespian brinke
Yo" Graces thre, come to Lucinas ayde
that noe abortive birth make men afraide
and sweete Minerva be thou at this birth
to give th' ingenious reader pleasing mirthe.
Venus describes to Cupid the type of lover pleasing to
women : ^
give me the Lad, that loveth iolUty
that midnight revellings delighteth in
that dares take any Ladie by the chin
lay her on th' lippes, & w*^ fewe words embrace
that dares stande forth to take a Ladies case
that's not faint-harted, like a gawdy Gull
one that will doe 't, before he sayes he will
w*^ labouringe-Hyndes, may Cravens goe in rankes
whose suite-free-service, is not worth our thankes.
cowardly-fainte-harte, nere faire Ladie got
they are unworthy, such a happie lot
the bold adventerous spirite, he shall obteine
when asse the bashfoole humblie sues in vaine.
Loves-ljTnits are not bounded in modestie
prescriptions, rules, & lawes they doe defie
1 This couplet is in the margin.
2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 110 verso ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 163
for my best Soldier, boldly enter must
into the lists, & straite begin to iust.
But yet w[i3thall it doth us much behove
that we take heede what servants we aprove
all that p[ro]test their love, we must not take
for some of them will make o'' harts to ake
y'' Roaring-boyes, & all the Drunken crue
my vailed Nuns must evermore eschewe.
. 1
Mars woos the wanton nun Adiana:
I've bin a Soldier in hotte bloody warre
wherin I got this bone-deepe-gaping-scarre
faire flatteringe speeche we soldiers never use
yet coyest Lasses, seldome us refuse
we fitter are for action than for words
'tis soldier-like to handle naked swords
if for y"" Soldier you will enterteyne-me
from kiUing battles I'le henceforth refreine-me
He fight my battailes in y'' beautious campe
I meane faire Venus sweete encounters, Rampe
see that my pay be good. He freely fighte
under y'' standard, or by day or nighte
the fielde He pitch 's the feild bed where yo^ lye
if kild w*^ kyndnes, there He [walling] dye.
Ive strength & might, viewe well my brawny armes
these shall secure yo*^ from all future harmes."
The following is from a story told by the ''Surgeon"
on the return voyage from Cadiz : ^
Customes though bad when they received be
that th'are allowed we all plainely see
ffantasticks often fashions doe devise
& sober mynded men take up their guise
1 Vol. II, fos. 47 ff. » Vol. II, fos. 138 ff.
164 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Custome's an other lawe & goes for good
for they embrace it w''^ against it stood
all this I say from tufts of haire nowe used
used (said I) nay monstrously abused
upon their foreheads men must drakes tayles weare
I meane a tuft of most unseemely heare
some like a drakes taile close turnd to the head
some bolt upright as men w*^ feare adread
• some w*^ longe locks w°^ their bald pates doe cover
some vowed locks to please their wanton lover
as Tyme is pictur'd w*^ a Lock before
so goe the riche so goe likewise the poore
for th' poorest snakes will th' greatest imitate.
This being a comon custome growne of late
to weare longe f oretoppes as most of yo" doe
a clowne he's counted that w[i]thout doth goe.
a plaine mechanicke fellowe followed it
who neither had much wealth nor yet much witte
comes from the Barbers where his haire was cut
(in Fryday Streete he sawe a wondrous rut)
w*^ his longe foretoppe standing bolt upright
for such a Noddie an unseemely sighte.
The author speaks of the good sense of Dulcimel and
Amoretta in Arcadia : ^
If many had such states as had these two
they would not like to country Shepeheards goe
but like to Courtiers clad in silke & gold
strout in puft pride, as full as they might holde.
So nowe this ioUy, lovely, amarous payer
had wealth & beauty more then many a gayer
in gew-gawes & in garish wanton toyes
they never plac'd, the least p[ar]t of their ioyes
their clothing was of the most modest fashion
they did not imitate ech f orrein Nation
1 Vol. II, fos. 26 £f.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 165
apparrell handsome, seemely, neate, they use
but welts & gardes, & tagges ^ they still refuse
best cloth w[i]thouten lace, they ever weare
in sobrest manner they did weare their heare
both he & she, he smooth & seemly short
not w*^ longe locks, th' abuse of Princes court
nor yet was hers, laid out w*^ p[ear]le & gold
curiously curld, w*** many a wanton fold
nor did she weare the haire of Curtezans
nor yet of Bauds (who former lightnes bannes)
because more faire then hers, nor Beggars brattes
[peo]]pled w*'^ Nittes, w"^ growing beastly mattes,
alas, she did not Tyre-makers haunte
for devilish [perr]iwiggs that well might daunt
even Mars himself should he o"" Ladyes meete
w*** borrowed haire, most Gallants would him greete
Nay I mistake, it is their owne they weare
they did it buy & paid for it full deere
their Peakes & fronts, half moones & greate Rams-hornes
let them all weare that would be th' countries scornes.
She neither paints her face, nor curies her heare ^
nor like a Goldsmiths wife doth lithping thweare,
nor is behounc'd w*^ lace, rebatos, piccadils
w**^ monstrous bummes, nor yet w*** short light heeles
nor in the brave & newe Hie Mulier cut
who in their hose & dublets themselves put
their dublets trust w*^*^ poynts, stilletto by their side
why doe o'' females pricke & pranke them so
but that th' are vendibles that all may knowe.
^ This word is blurred.
2 Vol. II, fos. 29 verso ff.
166 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
The author attacks the man who has bought knighthood: ^
When proude S"" Hadlande, had his knighthood boughte
himself a God, & not a man he thought
being iust Squired, he was passing proude
but nowe much more, being for a knight alow'd.
it was my hap one tyme being on ship-bourd
that he came hither stragging hke a Lorde
I wore a hatcht sword. See, see nowe, (quoth he)
that men that are but of meane degree
weare silver on their swords w*^^ lawe forbiddeth
for unto knights it only that p[er]mitteth
'tis pity lawe's no better executed
his hande on's sword he clapt, & so did I,
but durst not drawe, ffie cowheard Hadland fie!
My lande's as good as his was at the best
I was myseh a Gentleman at th' least
nor was his father better nor yet he
till w**^ his coyne he purchest his degree
Men were accustomed that use to ryde
upon their cloakes to weare on either syde
a claspe of silver, 'twas a neate device
but only 't would a hungery theife entice
yet this brave Gallant bare a nobler mynde
then Nobles did, who used but that kynde
he had his fayre great claspes of yealowe gold
the richest that for such er was sold
one of o' gay-greene-gallants was this knighte
wearing a long-love-locke for his delighte
this fonde fantasticke too, his cappe was greene
a faire red feather in 't, as er was scene.
1 Vol. II, fos. 71 verso flf.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 167
The author travels to hell in order to see the fate of the
popes : ^
Yet I confesse I had a greate desyre
to see what Popes were bathing in Hell-fyre
only I fear'd Garnet, would me transporte
to viewe his Masters glorious shyning court
nor other meanes could I devise by w'^'^
I might get thither, unles by some Witch
so meting w**^ the ghost of Faulx his mother
I did not th' healpe implore of any other
She [pro]mised me thither to transporte
where I at pleasure might se all the sporte
I did request her I might there remaine
untill I wisht my self on earth againe
that I from hurte might Ukewise be made free
w*'^ she most solemnly did sweare to me
w*^ that a bough she rent (from off an oake)
of Mistletoe, & th' wronge syde of my cloak
She turned outward, & put 't on my backe
the bough into my hand & bid me packe
w**^ that an excellent rare chymicall-oyle
she gat out of a viole w*** greate toile
(for that the necke therof was longe & small
and substance in it, was scarce none at all)
made of the Honesty of an old whoare
and th' seedes of P'earne, w*^^ she did keep in store
She dipt a branch of Eugh into the same
nyne tymes she called Hecate by name
3 tjTnes she turn'd her round to her right hand
as often to her left, then made a stande
then 3 tymes more she turnd her to her right
then sent me packing in the dead of th' night
in un-knowne language to her self she mumbled
and I forthw^i^th like to a whirle-^vynde, tumbled.
1 Vol. II, fol. 212.
168 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
The "Lady in Bed" tells the midwife and the visiting
gossips of a former lover : ^
I being a pearle in amorous Putex eye
he sued unto me for my deerest Jewell
and w*^ my presence oft enfiam'd his fuell
one while he wisht that he were made a Glove
to kisse my handes, so to expresse his love,
the Chaine of pearle that compassed my necke
that so he might embrace it w[i]thout checke
or to a precious Belt of beaten gold
that so he might me in his armes enfold
or if a creature having sense & motion
then Trym my Dogge, attending w**" devotion
because he often lay upon my lappe,
where sometyme I did play w*^ him by happe
but were I sure (said he) t' have my desyre
I would I were a Flea, still to lye by-her
then should she carry me where-ere I wente
one smocke should hold us both, & we not pente.
The aged Saturn falls in love with the very youthful
Lady May.^ He apes juvenility :
for he began him self to decke up fyne
he oyld his face, that it might brightly shine
w**^ sweete p[er3fumes he went bepowdered so
that in the darke one might him easely knowe
he cald to have his lynnen washed white
nowe in himself he gan to take dehghte
he combd his heare, his beard he shorter cut
in's fayrest richest robes himself he put
he causd his Taylor a newe sute to make
& carefully bid him his patterne take
1 Vol. II, fos. 81 verso ff. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fos. 2 verso £f.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 169
his hoped ioye nowe maketh him to skippe
no opportunity he letteth slippe
w^'^'s Love to bill, & with her haire to playe
and then he wisheth for his monthe of Maye.
he lookes that th' seame on's hose doth rightly stande
he often stroakes his leggs up w*'^ his hande
his shooes he caused to be wyped blacke
riche shooe-tye-roses, there he doth not lacke
his garters frynged fayre w*^ pearle & gold
here is a Laddie, if that he were not old
a goodly feather he in 's cappe did weare
he stroakes his beard, & stricketh up his heare.
Bacchus, disguised as a youth, comes to London, where he
meets an old bawd. She tells him of a maid "Putena
hight," who, because she deceived Mercury, was transformed
into Puten or tobacco:
And Hermes seing 's Love insatiate
in the same place where she comitted late
her foule offence, converted her straite waye
into that Herbe, that never shall decaye.
w^^ by her name, he likewise cald Puten
an herbe of most esteme amongst all men.
As when she liv'd, she all men did bewitche
that laye w*^ her, her pleasure then was suche
even so Ukewise, they w*'^ the Herbe do take
are still bewitcht, they can it not forsake
but still insatiably the same they use
whater we too much use, we doe abuse.
But all men thus, her living, did desyre
so doe they nowe, by lighting in the fyre
the sacred Herbe & drawing in the smoke
out of a pipe of silver ^ of claye, or oake.
^ This word is blotted.
170 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
this is the Herbe w*''* I doe give to yo"
w[i]thin my garden there doth growe enough.
But what's the vertue (quoth he to the Baude?)
Of all Herbes growinge it deserves most laude
(answered she then) — 'tis heavenly phisicke sure
for it all kyndes of malladyes doth cure
it heales y'' pocks, sir, and y"" running rheume
y '"stincking breath, it sweetly doth p[er]fume
y"" head-ache, tooth-ache, & y"" runing eyes
& quickly cures venerian malladies
y' goute, y'' dropsie, & y'' giddy braynes
y' pissing blood & running of the veynes
y' swelling some saye that it will restore
it makes yo" purge, both backward & before
upward & downeward is the comon speech
to say the troth, yo'^ neede no other leache
who take this herbe Physicians helpe do scorne
they hve more healthfully then th' did beforne.^
Some Gallants take it on the publique stage
other to drinke it, lay their cloathes to gage
some spende as much in this same smoake a yeare
as did their fathers in most needeful fyere
yet many take it only but for fashion
some to expell a mellancholy passion
some to pull downe their fat & puft-up-bellye
some to extracte their flegmaticke tough gellye.
Cariers & Tapsters, Ostlers & Chamberlyns
meeting at th' Ale-house, 'tis not worth two pinnes
unlesse they make the roome of Puten smell
sans it, their liquor tastes not half so well
tis comon growne, & every one doth use-it
there is noe 'state, nor sex that doth refuse-it.
He askt her, if 't were pleasant in the taste?
yea if w*^ some sweete oathes, it first be grac't,
1 This couplet is written in the margin.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 171
and 's made so pleasing being steept in liquor
that th' weakest stomake cannot it abhor
or by Gradinus ^ it is sweete & stronge
it gives a pleasant farewell to the tongue.
is 't Cane, or leafe, or ball, or puddinge, whether
or Trynidado & of th' other neither?
is it Barmudez or is it Virginia
or els right Spanish, & the two Farina.
or did it growe in Narbons neerest soyle?
for they have made this poore, rich plant to toyle
so many regions, south & west of this
that our owne Nation knows not o*"^ for this
it is so bathd & steep't & stupified
in liquors, strange, that I have it deny'de
and sware it was not of the same that I
had growing in my garden, when perdi ^
it was the very same, such forced power
they doe infuze into it every hower.
Some Petum call it, some La-royne-mere
Tobacco, Petoun, and some Nicotiana.
and some the soveraigne Herbe of Gods-divine
some drinke it steeped in o'' whitest wyne
that love not make their nostrils chymny tonnels
nor take it out of pipes or smoaky funnels.
Puten's the herbe w*^^ all men love amaine
nowe in our language a Punck is Putain
a whorish vertue still this herbe conteynes
for from the same manj^ derive great gaines
no pleasure w[i]thout cost can nowe be had
wenching & Puten maketh most men mad
some call it Detrementum Veneris
I rather thinke it Iritamentum is
for that they most o"" companyes frequent
(flesh they will have in Ope-tyde, or in Lente)
w*'^ take this Herbe.^
Mars. 2 par dieu. » Vol. I, Part I, fos. 39 ff.
172 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Neptune loved the fair nymph Thames. Because of her
unfaithfulness he drove her lover to "Cocytus shore" and,
Thames he confyned w[i]thin straighter bounds
to water Troynovants ^ rich pasture grounds
who oftentynies as her affection moves
doth followe him, telhng him that she loves
begging a pardon for that one offence
who churhshly w**^ rageing sends her thence
and w*"^ his boysterous surges makes her flee
to London-bridge, w'"^ is her sanctuarj^e.
A Bridge that's built of stone tliat's hewed square
of aU the bridges I e're sawe most rare
in it are twenty Arches as they saye
through ech of w''*^ the Tyde doth dayly playe
ech arche conteynes in breadth full thirty foote
'twixt w"*^ both Boates & bigger vessels shoote
ech arche is twenty foote distant asonder
threscore foote high, the easyer to goe under
both sydes therof is housed all alonge
w*^ Cellars and w*^ Shoppes mixed amonge
that one a very streete the same would deeme
were't not for prospects w*^^ theroft are seene
it is a thousand foote in length at least
and over Thames it standeth east and west.^
Thames is pursued by a rough monster, Pons, who woos
her in vain : ^
he did resolve an other meanes to trye
his auncient course of lawlesse villanye
even beast-like force : when nought els will prevaile
well worth a meanes that never yet did faile
Who would stande sueinge in an abiecte sorte
to a disdainefuU lasse, that makes but sporte
^ London.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 52 verso ff.
* Vol. I, Part I, fos. 53 verso ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS ] 73
of mournefuU elegies & sad lovers teares
for puling suto'''^, what lasse is 't that cares?
the swaggering Ruffian that doth violence use
the nycest Nymphe will never (scarce) refuse
the cutting Shaver, that sweares wounds & blood
was never of the chastest Nymphe withstood
Thus did he harten on himself unto
that impious acte he purposed to doe
he therfore Ijdng in wayte, on that same syde
w*''^ we call Southwarke, coming he her spide
all faynte & weary w*'** a carelesse gate
w*''^ she had like t 'have bought at deerest rate
in 's boysterous amies he caught her coming by
She shrieked out & w**^ loude voice did crye
Jove seeing this, turnd her into the streame
w'^** nowe is called Thames by her name
and as Pons groveling there upon her laye
he him transform'd also w[i]thout delaye
made him the Bridge of w°*^ I nowe did speak
thus Jove on him his anger iuste did wreake
but make him swell in bignesse and in length
adorninge it w*^ beautye & w*^ strength
(Tyme hath much more increast & beautifide
this glorious building nowe on every syde.)
this being an acte of such immortal fame
all bridges are cald Pontes by his name.
About the Arches, Thames doth play bo-peeke
w*^ an}^ Troian or els Merry-Greeke
She is a bounteous benefactor to the pore
she maynteines many hundreds of the Oare ^
many are set on worke the thred to spin
many to knit netts to catch fishes in
many that live w**^ angling in the same
She kepeth many foules both wylde and tame.
* boatman.
174 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
When as her silver sands do drye appeare
in lowest eb, why then w*^ merry cheere
the schoole-boyes skippe & play upon the shore
where erst they sawe no ground appeare before
and when the tyde doth there returne againe
the welkyn being cleere, skye void of rayne
then there they wash & bath their tender lymbes
some by the shore doe wade up to the chinnes
others, their fayre white bodyes nymblye drives
as if they swam to save their deere freinds lives
seeminge t' outstrippe the waves in their swift course
and in that pleasant art, shewe cuninge force.
One turns him there & swyms upon his backe
shewing the fish, an arte w'^^ they doe lacke.
Some pleasure take, to stande in bordering feild
to heare Tamisis echoing voice to yeilde
the fayrest Nymphes of all the Faiery-lande ^
doe often walke upon her pleasant sande
who richly tyr'd in precious perle & gold
w[i]thin the liquid waves them selves infold
to meete w*^ other Water-Nymphes abroade
whilest on the waves, the Oares lay on loade.
Sometyme the Queene ^ of that same Faiery lande
doth unto Thames reache her fayrest hande
that shee may kisse it; & for her more grace
when she removeth oft from place to place
she will not goe w[i3thout her Thames deere
who feasteth her & makes her royall cheere
and proude she is, more then of ought besyde
that Gloriana on her backe will ride.
Some to their Ladies fayre, sweet musique make,
that all the neighbouring Nymphs may it p[er]take
w*^ Cornet, or w**^ Trumpet sounding shrill
that Tritons self, amazed standeth still
1 England. 2 Elizabeth.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 175
by Neptunes syde. But others softly playe
on stringed instruments that be so gaye
on Cytterne, Gitterne, Viole & on Lute
and some with courage givinge Drum & Flute.
Her bancks are buildings of no meane esteeme
being princely graced, by a resplendant queene.
and all the greate Magnifiques of the lande
w'^^ there in rankes & rowes together stands
on either syde, both on the south & north
her sumptuous buildings, sets her honor forth
for richer Piles, Europe affourdeth not
Nature & Tyme gave Thames this happy lot.
Whitehall on North, on South stands Greenewich fayre
of princely seates the most frequented payre
for their so pleasant & swete scituation
their walkes are troade most of the English nation
& for the esaye & facile accesse
to such as thither pretende busynes.
That proude ambitious stately Cardinall ^
did first foundation laye & built Whitehall
but Greenewitch is the auncient seate of Kings
& there was borne the Sainte that sweetliest singes *
Greenewitch renouned for birth of Glorian
heaven blest that kingdome, in that more then woman.
Upon the North doth famous London stande
by east of that cheife ffortresse of the lande
the glorious Tower w°^ Julius Caesar built
O'relooking-Paules, & rich-wrought-Westmynster
are Temples of cheife note w*^'^ they prefer
before the rest, for rareties of structure
for largenes & for richest Arch'tccture
That Greshams worthy worke, Royall Exchange
Cheife place of bargaine & of newes most strange
» Wolscy. 2 Ehzabeth.
176 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
The Waterworkes & Conduits goodly fayre
where longe in earth being pent, it taketh ayre.
The many gorgeous houses of the Peeres
w''^ still increase in number as the yeares.
On the West syde, houses of Justice stand
Westmynster hall, & then fast by at hand *
th' Exchequer's there moe offices besyde. ^
The author attacks drunkenness:
To Stratford-house, unto the Greene-goose-fayre
a world of people one day did repayre
both poore & riche, men likewise old & younge
mixt w**^ the males, the females came among
the season of the yeare as usually
was parching hotte, the wether scorchinge-dry
Hay-makers, Mowers, thither did repaire
compeld by th' soultry-hot-fyre-breathing-ayre
the extreame heate did cause an extreame thirst
so that they dranke untill they almost burst
the Townes provission of sweete liquor faild
wherfore the Ale-wj^es harts for greife so quailed
it would have greivd one to heare them lament
for that so sone their mippie-ale ' was spent
(quoth one t' another) I could well have vented
thre tymes as much, thus they their want repented
this day I have iust fifty shillinges got
by Greene-goose-sauce & filling short the pot.
oh this Black-pot it was the best device
that e're was found t' enrich us w*^ a tryce
I might as easely have got ten pound
this day, our guestes they did come in so round
for meate they care not they cry all for drinke.
^ This line except Westminster hall is crossed out. Above is written
"wher ther are daily scand", as I decipher it.
2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 52 ff.
' Possibly mippie is the word "nappie" or "napping," meaning
"rare." Cf. Campion, First Booke of Ayres, XX.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 177
After a long description of the drunken revel, of a fight
in the inn, and of the red-nosed host and the wanton hostess^
the author writes :
Nowe fitly falles it to my taxing pen
to shewe th' abuse of beastly drunken men
and their Upholders : you guesse who I meane
not only Alehouse-keepers, filthy & obscene
though they the Fathers of all drunkards be
but their Grandfathers, here in I'l be free
and will ingeniously expresse my mynde
though for the same of th' bad, ill will I fynde.
But who are they? even Justices of Peace
who t' have their wils, whole Towneships doe disease
nay doe the Country w*^ such vermyne fill
maintayning them in their lewde courses still
who lycence p[er]sons lewde Alehousen kepe
if in submisse wise they to them will crepe
and give them worship & lowe courtesy
at every word they speake : oh foppery!
Who shalbe Ij^cenced? He that at New-yeares-tyme
can happely a dosen Mallard lyme
and to a Justice for a present sende
or he that doth his Chrismas diet mende
w*^ Capons thre or fower, or Turkyes fat
an eye of Phesants, whist noe more of that
speake not of them nor j'et of Partriches
taken in th' nighte, for that the Justices
should such offences punish by the lawe *
come they to them, they value 't not a strawe
that other kepe the lawe they are to see
but from observing it themselves are free
He that my Lady first ripe Cherries sends
or a fayre dish of Abricots comends
unto her Lady-ship, He's an honest man
he shalbe lycenced doe what yo" can
Yea, but he keepes ill rule, disorders greate
and sometymes helpes the Constables to beate
178 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
when they come hither to redresse abuses
unlawful! Games in 's house he daily uses
whiles Di\ane service some at Churche doe heare
he then is selling of his ale & beere
the cheife inhabitants of the Towne complaine
of misdemeano'^. But they speake in vaine
He fees his Gierke, he makes his Hyndes good chere
and filles their skyns oft w*^ his strongest beere
they are the bane of this o'' Gomon wealth
the houses where men are depriv'd of health
give them their right name, th'are Mal-housen then
the Nursery of all Pernicious-men
the Rendez vouz and comon meeting place
of godlesse p[er3sons, quite devoide of grace
Theives, Murderers & villaines take dehght
to squilk ^ in such like houses night by night
and pray you tell me, howe many be free
but that they comon Bawdy-houses be?
Prisons & Gaoiles they fill w*^ Malefactors
against good lawes they ever are detracto""^
Spirituall Gourts, they w*^ offenders fill
the World w*^ bastards: yet maintaine them still
what villany but had 'ts begining there
th'are Gounsell-housen of such as nought feare
howe many thousands are there in this Isle
that might be spar'd, that nothing doe but spoile
younge-wanton-youths, & idler-aged-men
for every thousand would there were but ten
but then these Justices would much complaine
who w**^ their Glarkes, share ever half the gaine
for Lycence-makinge : they would greive much more
that pocket all, therby to increase their store
and leave their Glarkes iust nothing for their paynes
they taking all what to their men remaynes.
1 A variant of "swill."
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 179
so nowe o"" drunkards tipling there will sit
untill they have nor honesty nor wit
till memory & sences quite doe faile
till money's spent w''^ after they bewaile
till a monthes earnings if they poore men be
be spent at th' Tap-house w*^ intemperancie
an howTe or two, nay half a day is small
thre dayes together they for hquor call
and drinke & spue & sleepe, then to 't againe
the drunken Duch at first did this professe
the soberer English thought of nothing lesse
but w'are turned Duch, or worser far than they
doth not this then the height of ill bewray?
But oh strange thinge, 'tis us'd in private houses
in Justice-butteries they doe drinke carouses
will Justices them selves nowe sit & drinke
untill they spue or doe the roome bestinke?
noe mervaile then drunkards unpunisht goe
when they should punish them be drunkards too
it fares w*** them as w**^ Officials
who lecherous p^er^sons to account oft cals
yet nowe are worse then some that those Courts keepe
nor better love w*^ a fyne lasse to sleepe
Is not vyce punisht well the while I pray?
I hope there's none of yo" that ^vill say nay.
To drinke carouses nowe 'tis Knight-hke growne
for they from other men would fayne be knowne
since they can not in Garments or in Wealths
they wilbe knowne by their carousing Healthes
six or seaven healths nowe at a meale they have
at a Knights table usually: that's brave.^
1 Vol. II, fos. 236 ff.
180 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
The following is a picture of a young man ruined by
gambling:
Swynburnus was a lad that lov'd to play
a word or two of him & then I'l leave
gameing's a trade that many doth deceive
especially those that a trade it make
to pursing many men it makes betake
so to the gallowes, for that's the conclusion
it many thus doth bringe to sad confusion
yet in it some exceedingly delight
& prosecute the same both day & nighte
w*^ such an eager appetite I saj'^
as they were borne but only for to play
wheras all knowe, gameinge's for recreation
for seriouser busines to make preparation
of o'' weake myndes, w*''^ if they alwaies stand
like a bowe bente, growe crooked out of hande.
To eate & drinke & play, man was not made
but every man must exercise some trade
I mean not base, mechanick, manuall
all must in calling live both greate & small
w*'^ sweate on 's browes man was ordaind to live
before by sin he did Jehovah greive.
when of this universall fabrique he
was a Lord absolute & from sin yet free
o'" Gallants nowe though, thinke much otherwise
& by that error doe their lives disguise
of the w^^ nombre was Swnyburnus one
then he more pleasure took in 't never none
but not for nought, he made of it greate gayne
for he was ever in the getting veyne
of his p[ro]genito'"^ I litle say
they nowe are dead & lapped lye in clay
his ancesto'"^ left liim noe meanes to live
his wante of meanes him first to London drive
where in a ser\dce he pickt up his crummes
that at the Playhouse he tooke cheifest roomes
SELECTIONS FROiM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 181
and then did take on him the gentleman
he w**^ the best to ruffle it began
then Ordinaries he begins frequent
then unto gaming he his study bente
it followed well his hande he got thereby
■^ch ^th jj^Qi-g eagernes made him it plie.
on's play he liv'd, as many Gamesters doe
who in apparrell doe as gallant goe
as Landed-men & of reA'enues greate
& keepe as good a diet in their meate
that he grewe rich: d'ye wonder? why d'ye so;
the chaunce of Gamesters's variable you knowe
Dice-players lucke, oftner then th' w^nde doth change
in gamesters wealth certainte were strange.
the tyde runs w*** them this day, they get all
the next they into many losses fall
in thinges on earth noe stedfastnes we finde
not in th' most stable, that should be mans mynde
would any man then ever looke to see
the gamesters happe alwayes alike to be
that of all other is th' uncertainst trade
one cast a Gent, next a Beggar made
one day on this side th' n^Tnble bones do run
the next day so, that he is quite undon
Examples more than this I neede not showe
there's scarcely no man but he it doth knowe
But to Swnburnus to returne againe
who still delighted in his gameing veyne
a thousand pounds & half well nigh he got
at one bare sitting such was then his lotte
the thousand pounds he straite put out to Use
thus his successe begot an other abuse
w*** some of th' rest he went & paid his debts
and his estate he then in order sets
the surplussage, a gameing stocke he made
the next day freshhe goeing to his trade
182 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
but then a stronge tyde did against him run
he lost all 's gaine, was utterly undon
his whole estate he at that meeting lost
& nigh five hundred pounds more, let him boast
then for foure hundred pounds he gave his bond
thus shewed he himself most foolish fonde
to th' Taverne went, put Ratsbane in his wyne
& w*^ the same his Uves thrid did untwine.^
The author attacks unscrupulous doctors:
Neere unto Malverne Hilles a widdowe dwelt
I would her father had bin surely gelt
before he gat her: she a dogleache was
I doe not well knowe howe it came to passe
but she cur'd some, as blynde men hit the throwe
't was more by happe then by her arte I knowe
one med'cyne used she for ech disease
w**^ filthy oyntments, she did all men greaze
that came unto her, whither 't were a wounde
an Ague-soare, or legges that were unsounde
whither a Wolfe or Noli-me-tangere
ache in the ioynts, or cureles Dissentorie
Lues Veneria, w"*^ some call the Poxe
her Physicke all comes out a stinking boxe
there w*^ she sweates her Patients every one
till some of them sende out their latest groane
she poisons most, that she doth take in hande
it is greate pitty none doe countermande
her bold presumption: Much they are too blame
Physicians suffring her, their arte to shame
some that came to the Well their health to get
she hath nigh kild by lajang them in sweate
such Empericks doe kill more then they cure
oh dwelt I neere, I could it not endure
her name agrees w*^ her filthy nature
her forme tell wo that, she's of an ugly stature
1 Vol. II, fos. 116 verso ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 183
't is mother Beaste, a very beaste indeede
would she were surely trust in hempen-weede
Many such cheating Mates doe walke about
such one was here, a foule, unhandsome Loute
his name he sayes is Dee, a very knave
he layes his Patients too, in a dry-bath
can neither write, nor reade, nor cast a state
yet he gives physicke, a most cooseninge Mate
a lewde Imposter, he much mischeife workes
he squilkes in corners & in odde holes lurkes.
You Life-prolongers, whom true arte doth guide
can yo" these life-deprivers thus abide
y[ou]rselves to wronge, to harme the Comonwealth
rewarde ye such w*^ hanging, as for stealth
for they are worse then theives, they murderers are.^
A picture of a tavern quarrel:
The next thinge that I p[ro]mised to tell
it was of ffighters if I reckon well
two of w''*' trade, lewde despate & bold
met once together as I have bin told
strangers they were & never met before
both w'^^ did quarrell for a paltry whore
I meane a Curtizan a comon one
who for reward refused never none
she was conducted by two Aplesquires
unto a Taverne nere unto the Fryers
both of the Ruffians doggd her all the way
She being housed thus began the play.
One knewe her by her name, whom most men knows
that did desyre it, I'le not name her though
they through the Taverne pac'd w*'' wondrous haste
untill the}' found the roome where she was plac't
at tables upper ende alone she sate
on either side she had her Pandor mate
1 Vol. II, fos. 98 verso ff.
184 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
who for a Gent her thither man'd
thinking all thre to get well by the hande
a pynte of wync they were a drinking then
when in at dores there came thes boysterous men.
his supper there they had bespoke that nighte
(quoth one of these that knewe her by the sight)
come wench w*^ me (& called her by her name)
to walke w*^ such, y'are very much too blame
as dare not fight, come goe away w*^ me
and who dares touch thee nowe, faine would I see
he by the hand puld her from th' tables end
stay (said the other) yet a while my freinde
she's none of yCou]""^, I first came in at dore
yes (quoth the first) S'', but she is my whore
& I this night intend w*'^ her to lye
(oh monstrous height of damnd impietie
howe dare men bragge & boast thus of their sin
who knowes their lewdnes they care not a pin
these are the Cursed brood, the Damned crue
& Roaringe boyes, w*^^ noe foule vice eschewe)
ech Coward Mastife for's soute bytch wiU fighte
answered the other, & in thy despighte
or I wiU have her, or thou shalt win her deere
if th'art a Mettall-man let 't nowe appeare
the Pandors both they shrunk away for feare
the swaggering youth to fight did fast prepare
whilest w*^ the noise the roome w**^ folke was fild
saving mad blood w*'^ should even there be spild
in th' mydst of th' broyle the Gent he came
& quietly he seized on his game
these Ruffians yet their manhod vow'd to showe
being brought downe into the roome belowe
next day they both appoint to meete in feilde
both being despate, ech did scorne to yeilde.
On horsebacke mounted well, they mette at first
ech being resolved there to do his worste
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 185
when first their pistols they discharged, straite
w*^ their short swords to heawe ech other waite
their traversing their ground, their wards, & blowes
ech ffence-schoole-boy, he all of them well knowes
the ende was this, they did ech other kill
thus of revenge they both had even their fill.^
An attack on women who refuse to nurse their children:
yet such a cursed custome nowe is got
richest mens children have th' unhappiest lotte
they must have Hedge-sparowes their younge to nurse
I meane their Nurses : so they make a curse
of that w*^^ once a blessing seem'd to be
't was first allowed for necessetie
when parents dyed, or had noe milke to give
when weaknes hindred, or soore breasts did greive
nowe scoundrels base, having small wealth acquired
being brought a bed must have their Nurses hyred
and shame not t'say, They'le knock them on the heade
before they'le nurse, the children they have bred,
unmotherly, unnaturall beastes be they
w*^^ doe not feare such cursed wordcs to say
mee seemes it is a thinge, unnaturall
w*''^ is not practisd by th' brute animall,
they nurse the younge ones w'^^ themselves doe beare
and sockld them w*^ more then mothers care
shall brute beastes then growe mothers, mothers beastes?
they then are guided by Priap's beheastes.
'tis not the case of Noblewomen nowe
but even of Clownes wives, if th' have wealth enough,
it seemes the riche are borne but for their pleasure
wherin they take their fill above all measure
the poorer sorte, must w*^ their cliildren take
unwearied paynes, & why? for monyes sake.
Though this be bad, yet many doe much worse
they put their children to lighte ones to nurse
1 Vol. II, fos. 115 verso ff.
186 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
have they proportion, neatnesse, comelynesse
unto such Nurses they themselves adresse
to th' inclynation of the mynde yo" looke not
so w*^ their vices, yo" y[ou]'" children blot
who doe not sucke it only from their Nurses
but b' imitation, so p[ar]take their curses
this is the cause y[ou3r heires degenerate
ye noble bloods; for they them vitiate.^
The following is taken from the story of the Voluntarie
Gent on the return trip from Cadiz:
"that very night Corncaput he came by
on th' other syde the streete, the Watch him spie
a Gent he was, but money-lesse
a beggarly one I must nedes confesse
't was then nigh Mid-night & they cald amaine
he under th' penthouse went to shun the rayne
and eke to hide him from their viperous eyes
whilest th' Constable apace unto him cryes
why who goes there, why stande, come hither S"^ :
one w**^ the sconce,^ thre browne bils ^ made such stir
w*** crying stop, stop, followe the fellon stoute
Wee'le search all nighte, but we \\\\\ finde him out." *
The author in the passage below tells of a certain Captain
Swan:
'Mongst many guests at this so royall feaste *
of one I'le tell yo" nowe a prety least
a propper tall red bearded Gentleman
his name I thinke was gallant Captaine Swan
a sea captaine : captaines often sharke ^
being bold brave Brittons when they do want worke
» Vol. II, fos. 191 ff. " Vol. II, fol. 163.
* lantern, street lamp. * Marriage of Princess Elizabeth.
^ military weapon. « Shirk.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 187
a Captain in tyme of peace is like a Nun
there living, where Rehgion is undon
sometymes I see them walk in Paules in buffe
w*'* great gold lace, all poynted, mary muffe;
much like to Panderesses, when their game is over
our captaines oft from Calais come to Dover.
Captaine, sometyme it was a noble name
but is nowe growne base, for they themselves defame
by haunting Pickthach, White-fryers hot-houses
to bill & bed w*^ those same prety Douses
but like the Lapwing I cry from my neast
I promised to tell yo" of a ieaste.
The first course being serv^ed to the table
(I tell no legend, nor no Poets fable)
as thicke as they could stand there one by one
voyde place on th' table, there was suerly none
nay scarcely roome to lay their trenchers on
yet many dishes other stood upon
this Captain being amongst other set
about myd-table, he began to fret
to chaufe & sweate & could noe longer sit
for he was taken w**^ a grievous fit
not of an Ague, nor the CoUick neither
it may be though, it was a Lurdain-feaver
he gap't & sweate, & wyp't his angry browe
I know not wherfore sure : I pray do yo"?
first soldier-like, 3 or 4 oathes he brake
but besydes them, ner a ^\ise word he spake.
being on the benche syde, he ore th' table skipt
would he not skip well if he had bin whipt
he curse & swore & out of dores he got
w"*^ did astonish all. One said the pot
he thought distempered so, his weaker braynes
that th' sent of meate to get him gon constraines
One said because an other Captain came
that by a tricke had coosen'd him of 's dame
188 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
An other said because he had no knife
he gat him gon : thus mens conceits wer rife
nowe every one shew'd liis opinion
why th' captaine went away so w*** a wenion.
not one of all did hit the nayle on th' heads
had he stay'd still he suerly had bin dead
I know yo" longe to heare the cause of it
I'le tell yo" straite so 3^0^ will silent sit
it was because a Pigge came to the table
w'^^ to abide by no meanes he was able
was not the Swan worthy to be made a Goose
that such a dynner for a pigge would loose.
I thinke he was a Capten sine I
of him good sir, I praj'' yo^ what thinke yee?
I knewe the like by one that nould ^ endure
to see a Goose come to the table sure
some cannot brooke to se a Custarde there
some of a Cheese doe ever stande in feare
& I knowe one if she Tobacco see
or smels the same, she swoones imediately
the like of Roses I have heard some tell
touch but the skyn & presently 'twill swell
& growe to blisters : the reason it is this
twixt them & these ther's such antithesis
that snakes in bed, or toades in drinke's not more
against their natures then these nam'd before.^
J. M. shows the fickleness of patrons:
Ambitious men clymbe up on j^cie stayres
to their proude seates & their liigh mounted chayres
they creepe up slowely, Uke the slymie snaile
to leave their silvery slyme they doe not faile
but when they are up mounted aU aloft
they come downe w*^ a vengeance hea[d]longe oft
^ would not.
* Vol. II, fos. 256 ff. This passage recalls Shylock's dislike of vari-
OUB kinds of people. Cf. Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Sc. I.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 189
as huge Oakes fall, or Towers come tumbling downe
so in disgrace ends all their high renowne
money or els obscene & filthy hfe
doth many raise, it is a thinge most rife.
. . . fewe raise their fortunes soe
unles they will ranke villaines prove, aU knowe
for he that serves one Noble or of Note
in Court or Country & doth weare his coate
there may he spende & waste his youthful! dales
in swilling, swearing, whoaring & in playes
in pryde, in ryot, & all kynde of vyce
for all doe thus except some fewe more wise,
but one crosse word, the coate's puld o're their eares
turn'd out of doares & no man for them cares
thus seaven yeares service I have seene rewarded
& for as litle many a man discarded
the least fault that a servant can comit
he oft is turned out of doares for it
yea oftentymes when he is innocent
& for noe fault at all, can once be shent.
who thrives by sen-ice then? I'le tell yo" who
he that the bacest offices will doe
he that's a fawning flattering Siccophant
p[er3haps his master wall not let him wante
he that wilbe a Pandor for his Master
although sometyme he be him self his taster.^
R^ The following excerpts are taken from a story of a jealous
husband. The author dilates on the fact that a woman can
always deceive a man. One lover comes disguised as a
woman peddler, another as a fortune teller:
... he comes anon
w*** a greate packe of Pedlers-stuffe at 's backe
and there aloude he asked what d'ye lacke
1 Vol. II, fos. 264 flf.
190 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
white Lawne or Cambrick, or els Holand fyne
Scotish cloth or Callico w"^ beinge shckt doth shine
fyne Diaper or Damask I will sell
for powers sweet I only beare the bell
caules for y"^ head, silk riband for y'^ hears
I want no kynde of dainty womens ware
I'le pins, shewe yo" thimbles, nedles or boulace
all w"*^ & more he spake w**^ such a grace.^
. . . under beggers cloake he ^ hived
all tome & patcht, much like the very same
our old Roagues weare nowe for their greater fame
He came I say unto Costerus ^ gate
where hke a Begger, he aloud did prate.
A mayde past by, he cald her him unto
as if he would some message to her doe
(quoth he) I see thou wouldst thy fortune knowe
come let me see thy hand, I will it showe,
Thou hast a false dissembling love I sweare
for he hath set his hart in place els wheare
he's but a cupbord wooer me beleve
he kist thee thrice, when last he tooke his leave
thou hadst an other w*^^ did love thee better
and of his name Richard was the first letter
w**^ this away went she & sent an other
come on (said she) thou lovest Gregories brother
a maried man, thou lovest him too late
if thou hadst loved him first, th' hadst better fate.
A man came then w*^ victuals in his hand
a plough-iogge-swaine, one w*^ the sun all tand
to whom he said if thou this mayde dost marry
whom thou lovest well, er thou seaven yeare dost tarry
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 19 verso ff.
^ The fortune teller, Mercury.
3 The husband.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 191
by her freinds death she shall enrich the so
that thou shalt never nede to plough to goe.
An other wench w*^ that came running fast
desired to know some secrets that were past
Hearke in thine eare then, thou the ( ) didst play
in yonder orchard on a Mary day
w*** flea in eare, away then went the mayde
and to her mistres thus she (angry) said
this man I warrant him is a very knave
he tels things past, to come, so Gods me save.^
The following is taken from a story of Arcadia. The
heroine, we are told, was not
. . . coye and nyce as in this age
o' maydes are nowe of stately cariage
proude in their gate, apparell, countenance
(I speake not I, of Italy & France
nor of gold-thirsty Spaine, but amongst us
I say o"^ damsels are superbious)
yea in their speeche & every kynde of way
if garments be well shaped, riche, or gaye
if beauty too, have somewhat dy'de their face
then to be proude they hold it for a grace.^
This Amoretta had many lovers, among them a youth
from England who was ardent in his wooing:
Amongst this crue was one from Fayery come
who amongst them had purchased a Roome
a ioUy Shepeheard was he young & bold
till for her love his liberty he sold
none of th' Arcadians was so passionate
as was this Stranger that was come of late
he courts his Love w*^ pleasant Madrigals
Odes Sonets, Elegies, Canzons, Pastorals
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 22 verso flf.
* Vol. II, fos. 22 verso ff.
192 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
w*^ such delightful ditties as might make
chorlish Diogenes, some pleasure take.
A Lookinge-glasse, he gat, & sente to her
the superscription on it, Beauties Mirror
the first fold opened did conteyne these words
only her praises that first syde affourds.
^'My Love, like Luna, sMneth wondrous brighte
all creatures in the world ioye at her sighte
She ads more glorie unto Women-kyne
as the bright Moone to Starres, when she doth shyne."
On the inmost fold of 's paper he had writte
these verses following for his purpose fit
"The perfect picture of that Goddes greate
to-whome sweete Venus hath resigned her seate
here may You see, and only you alone
without your presence she is sene of none
if well you looke on this, here you may see
an exacte Image of divine beautie"
A Robin Red-breast he in 's chamber spied
the w°^ to catch he all his skill applyed
about his Love intending him to use
as thus he sate in a sore heavy muse
writing fewe lynes, about his necke him tyde
thus speaking to him at that present tyde.
"Thou kinge of birds art, yet a thrall to me
many thus captive, should of right goe free
thy durance is constreind, being held by mighte
such durance I doe seeke & crave as righte
I am her Captive & doe me submitte
were shee my keeper, I'd be glad of it
such thraldome as thou sufferest I desyre
that soe her presence might me set on fyre.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 193
Nowe goe to her & shewe her these sad lynes
of my captivity the woeful! signes
for thy poore M'^ : poore f oole pleade thou well
with lamentable sighs, his sad tale tell
with bodies perrill, his soules passions showe
that so she may the certaine truth on 't knowe.
I doe not doubt but she will set thee free
if see, then bid her Uke wise pitty mee." ^
The author writes of the attack on Cadiz :
Whilest o*^ Eliza of blest memory
did in this kingdome hold the soveraigntie
many heroicke spirits for th' comon good
offred to venture even their deerest blood
who such an expedition undertooke
as a more brave was never writ in booke
Essex & Howard both Liuetenants were
& both were Admiralls, who soone prepare
w**' a small nomber their brave spirits to showe
that all the world may English valour knowe
when May began to deck the earth w*^ flowers
then 'gan these Nobles trym their watry bowers
wherin t'embarke them, even a Royall Fleete
w*'^ for high spirits is a thinge most meete
seaventene shippes Royall, thre the Lord Admirals
these are indeede our Englands wooden wals
th'United States brought fower & twenty saile
a hundred & six other did not faile
Men of Warre, Merchants, & Vitulars
offer their service unto these bright starres
The Navy Royall thus it did consist
of seaven score ten saile, count them if j'o" list
wherin were shipt above ten thousand men
w*''' mette at Plymouth & put forth agen
The first of June, a warninge peice discharg'd
they weighed ancho"^, & their sailes cnlarg'd
1 Vol. II, fos. 23 ff.
194 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
a prosperous wynde did bringe them to the place
wheras they meante their valo"^ to uncase
On June the twenty they did there arive
where, many wisht them dead that were aUve
the Cadizans I meane, in Cadiz that dwelt
who quake for feare, er they o"^ power felt
where twenty gallies, fower score & ten shippes lay
(when we approched) w[i]thin Cadiz Bay
five of the w''^ Apostles were of Spaine ^
who doubtles praid that fyre from heaven might rayne
upon o"^ ffleete : but none effecte it tooke
but passing that, to themselves let them looke,
two greate Galliasses, Frigats likewise thre
thr Argosies, twenty of Biscanie
the rest in nomber seaven & fifty saile
were Merchants shippes whose courages did faile
yet were of burden greate & richly loade
but they forsooke the place where they aboade
& shot into a dangerous narrowe Bay
the w'''^ was full of Rocks, Sandes, Shelves (they say)
o"^ shippes pursued them through these dangers greate
and presentlie w*^ thondering shot them beate
that the greate Phillip, Spaines great Admyrall
could fight noe longer : then gave over all
they fyred it & sought to swym to lande
th' Apostle Thomas being next at hande
he did the like the rest then of the fflete
for their most safety, they did hold it meete
in th' bay Port real, themselves t'run aground
for fighting they must taken be or drownd.
The Navy thus at sea disperst & beate
Essex wh's troopes landed in all the heate
leaving the sea-fight when he sawe them fly
under the Blockhouse landing imediately,
some Regiments to stoppe supplie from th' maine
made to the Bridge w*''^ easely they obteine
^ The five largest ships were named after Apostles.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 195
Essex meane while doth to the Towne advance
where we were hindered by the Ordinance
He caught his Coolers into Towne them cast
then o're the Walle the Enghsh leaped fast
happie was he first hold on them could lay-
then through the prease we quickly made o"^ way
like hunted sheepe the Spaniards 'fore us run
being all resolved they were quite undon.
the streetes being narrowe much they did molest
us in o*^ passage as we forward preast
from houses toppes they sent such store of stones
& from their Charnell-houses, showers of bones
w*^ tyles & brick-batts, & such mauling geere
as might make any but the Enghsh feare.
but we left not, but manlj'' them pursued
unto the Market place in blood imbrued
where they gave in & yielded up the Towne
& conquered caytives cast their weapons downe
the fury of o'^ men was soone allayd
when none resisted we from slaughter staid.
Nowe see the cares of Gennerals truly Noble
on paine of death they forbad all to trouble
either the female sex or children small
or the religious, but to spare them all.
Ladies & Gentlewomen they did p[er]met
in their best clothes. Jewels, & all thinges fitte
to passe away unto the Porte St. Mary
the Generals Pinnasses them all did carrj'
whilst they them selves stood by the waters side
to see noe wronge or harme should them betide
that rich magnificent Bishop of Cusco
w**^ all of sacred Orders being let goe
and quite released w[i]thout ransome paying.^
This is followed by a description of the booty and ransom.
1 Vol. II, fos. 119 ff.
196 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
fifty two shippes in the late sea-fight beaten
w*'^ ran aground, seeing o"^ ffleete them threaten
two MilUons & a half of Ducats offered
from further danger to be ransomed.
Our Noble Gennerals would not once give eare
but for the Merchants shippes w'^** then lay there
w*'*' when the Admirall did understand
the Duke of Medina, he did then comand
that they the whole ffleete then should sacrifice
to angrie Vulcan, I sawe't w**^ myne eyes
then the thicke cloudes of stincking foggie smoake
did many a Spaniard on the hatches choake
Nowe the baseslaves like paddocks flewe in th' aire
when th' fyre & powder kist (oh loving payre)
when th' hideous roaring & confounding thonder
bereaved the sayles of all future wonder
when smoake flame stench, amasd, astonished
even the spectato*^^ that they were nigh deade.
the sailers shrieked w*"^ such horrid noise
as one of Hell had heard the fearefull voice
and 'tis noe wonder th' cryed so hideously
for they were posting to Hell speedily
they in the suburbs nowe already weare
had they not cause then t' roare & howle for feare.
two of th' Apostles then were martyred
thus for their service they full ill have sped
since they such recompence their freinds doe give
I'l be their enimie whiles I do live
by that was done in the yeare 88 ^
& nowe in this so coweardly retraite
unto the world it doth appeare most plaine
that these same thondering Apostles of Spaine
are fals Apostles & have not the power
England t'convert, no not unto this hower.^
1 Armada. 2 Vol. II, fos. 121 ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 197
The following is taken from the relation of the Gun-
powder Plot. The author gives a hst of those taking^part
in the treason:
Catsby, (yo" cMldren sucking at the breast
that hatefull name abhor, dread, & detest
nay let men tremble, shudder, quake for feare
when they that wretched, odious name doe heare)
Catsby (I say would I could quietly passe
the naming him, whose shame is writ in brasse
in marble to th' eternall memorie
of f oUowinge ages & posteritie) .
He, first devisd this proiecte so imane *
w'^*^ to the worlds ende all will ever bane
and to this worst acte, the worst tyme of th' yeare
he did sohcite Wynter, 't doth appeare
to ioyne w*^ him against all humane lawes
some thinge to doe, for th' Catholique Romane cause
S'^ Edmond Baynam, (Prince of th' damned crue)
unto the Pope was sente w*''^ tydinges newe
him to acquainte w*^ this damnd powder treason
w°^ did his heart glad, above sence or reason
a fit Embassado'^ 'twixt Pluto & the Pope
who for rewardc was worthy of a rope
into th' Lowe Countries, Wynter was dispatcht
to seeke a desperate Mate in Hell unmatcht
hight Guydo Faulks, whom he did over bringe
to acte this, more then a most divehsh thinge
this divelish facte, for to bewray to none
(these blacke inhabitants of th' infernal lake
doth th' holy sacrament the blacke band make
of all their villany, hke the Aquilians
and Brutus sonnes, who shak't their bloody hands
in a mans bowels whom they would sacrifice
and dranke his blood, Vindicius sawe't with 's eyes
1 terrible, cruel.
198 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
when trayterously 'gainst Rome they did conspire
by this example Papists are set on fyre
when treason they, or murder doe intende
they th' sacrament receive to self same ende.
There 't was agreed by Powder to be don
w*'^ if it had, had us & ours undon
in that blacke consultation they concluded
(the Divell as the sixt, 'mongst them intruded)
to undermyne the house of Parliamente
a house was hyred neere for that intent
and w*^ that Stygian, smoaky, sulpherous flame
to blowe up all o"^ so longe purchast fame
to blowe up Kinge, Queene, Prince, Nobillity
Counsell, Divines, Judges, Knights, Gentery.
Because Religion (said they) was suppressed
Upon that House their fury should b'expressed
Oh plotte of Furyes, treason sans paralell
invented first by Pluto, Prince of Hell
, so cruell, brutish, divelish & inmane
as will I hope give Papists here their bane
and make them odious through the universe
where ever any doth this facte rehearse :
who knowes where this their hell-bred-rage had ended
if they effected had what they intended
for that one House alone had not sufficed
their bloody rage, 't had many more comprised
The Courte of Records, w*^ th' House of Parhament
should at one instant bin to filters rent
The Hall of Judgment, the Collegiate Churche
must w*^ the rest bin taken in the lurche
the sacred Monuments, w*^ the Abbey fayre
blowne up had bin into th' unguilty ayre.^
1 Vol. II, fos. 200 ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 199
The following story, closely resembling in one of its plots
Chaucer's Miller's Tale, is told in the spirit of satire against
Roman Catholicism:
About this tyme, in th' raigne of Harry th' eight
whilst irreUgious houses still were fraight
It was even then that this same Prior I say
having longe walkt in superstitions way
one by the spirit prophesy inspired
revealed this secrete to him undesyred
but privily w*^ oath & p[ro]mise both
from all th' world to conceale't, though he were loath.
" Not many monthes, shalbe expired more
before the Heavens, such stormes on earth shall poure
that all this Isle, shall in greate danger be
of a Deucalion-flood in qualitie
which all religious houses shall subverte
wherof th' Inhabitants must share a parte
for none exempte, they shalbe ruin'd all
from th' meanest Moncke, to th' most Pontificall
Twenty-eight days (he said) the same should laste,
er th' furye of that Flood should quite be paste."
This hearing he to save one casts aboute
and this as safest meanes he fyndeth out
upon some steepe-high-peering-hill to make
some Babell-frame, so stronge it should not shake
w*^ surging billowes, beating on the same
of Harrowe-hill he did make choice by name
upon whose utmost height, a house he built
sparing nor tyme, nor labour, nor yet gilt ^
untill his sweating workmen finished
his spire-like-building, him to free from dread.
w*'' a bricke wall his house he hemmd in round
w*^^ cost liim many a fay re shininge pound
1 gold.
200 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
as Superstition brought him in the coyne
so did the same vice, it againe purloyne.
Nowe they did hold, in those blynde moone-shine-dayes
where in the cleere sun never shew'd his rayes
Paradise was but sixteene cubits hie
above the earth, where Enoch safe did lye
(and yet mee thinks, when Noahs flood did reache
full fifteene cubits (so the Worde doth teache)
above the highest sweelinge mountaines toppes
Enoch for feare should have berayed his ... ^
having noe boate to swym as Bolton ^ had
the w'''^ mighte make him so much more to drad
had I bin in that Papists Paradice
I should have drowning feard) oh foule device!
had he not reason then to build it hie
an hundred feete he'le have 't made certainly.
To the Sub-prior he comits the charge
of all his Frj^ers, lets them not run at large
and hke an Anchorite, or a Recluse he
mewes up himself in 's walles most carefully
of victuals he abundant store p[ro3vides
himself so to preserve for aftertydes
his Tower-toppe, was fairely roofed over
that it did much more then the Spire-top cover
there puUies were made fast at either ende
on w*'^ a ffisher-boate he cause depende
covered w*'^ hatches, therby himself to free
from the raynes outrage, if that neede should be
his Masons wrought him in & left noe doare
he meant to swym out, or stir out noe more
the Boate to th' toppe, himself had haled up
upon the hatches he did alwayes suppe
w[i]thin the Boate he lay, there was his bed
in the day tyme, on 's bookes he alwayes read
^ The word cannot be deciphered; it may be "slopyes."
'^ The prior.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 201
for Holy Legends, & Saints Lives he loved
(most fit for such as blynde devotion moved)
by day the Prior spente his tjine belowe
for that the ffloods growe by degrees yo" knowe
and he might by degrees & steps ascende
into his Pallace height & upy ende
an hundred steppes high was his stairecase framed
for making it so lowe he might be blamed.
in morne when he came downe on everj' stayre
he said his Credo, for an harty prayer
those on his Beades Devoutly he told over
as one that was of th' Pope, his God a lover
w"^ he told backe when he went up to bed
w*^ Ave Maria w''^ w**^ zeale he sed
Ora Pro Nobis he thumpt on liis breast
fearing 't be drownd on a dry hill, oh ieaste!
This Revelation w*^^ was shewed thus
he tooke as sent from heaven propitious
thinking as Noah, he againe should raise
a future Nation, in 's declyninge dayes
but that he wants a female & would fayne
have gone out of his Hermitage againe
had he not feared he might be prevented
er his returne, therfore himself contented
er els that freinds might possibly p[er]suade-him
for w*^ stronge reasons many did disuade-him
therfore he thought, better be sav'd alone
for he might have a female made of stone
as once Pigmalion had; but nowe before
this careful Prior provided bookcs good store
these bookes he was most careful to preserve
therfore of Holy Church did much deser\^e.
Legenda aurea, Gesta Romanorum
Panoplia, Stella Clericorum
St Gregories Legende, Eckius Encheiridion
Asotus workes of Supererogation
202 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Taxa poenitentiaria Apostolica
Dionysius Areopagita.^
A meale-mouthed-Miller, not far off did dwell
whose story mixed w*^ the Priors He tell
He for her goods an old wife married
poore Croane sh'had better sped if she had tarried
a widdowe still : when he her bagges had got
he did protest for her he cared not
nor w**^ a fawe ^-falne-gipsy would he live.
thus w*** vile taunts he did the poore soule greive
ner came in bed w**^ her, nor plaid the p[ar]te
of a kynde husband w''^ went nere her harte
the reason was he had found out a Lasse
whose skyn was white & smooth as looking-glasse
a Captaines wife, a bony-bouncing-Girle
who in this Gold-thumbs eyes was a faire p[ear]le
Mounsieur the Miller, w*** his mealy mouth
lov'd her too well, to tell you the plaine truth
her husband was a man of mycle yeares
and yet the Miller, th' Captaines wife oft cheeres.
that he more freely nowe might have his will
he was their Miller & did grynde there still
tole-free he often ground, tooke deeper tole
(to the greate hazard of his pocky soule)
when w*^ the M"^'^^; of the house he mette
th' Captaine oft absent, nothing their love did let *
but coming home his old wife seemd to be
an extreame pull-backe, to his ioUitie
then would he alwayes, rage & curse & sweare
that noe man could her filthy fashions beare.
The Captaine wounded by some dismall blowe
nowe kept his bed: they to conclusion growe
that night to have a bout: at his backe dore
she was to enter, there to play the whore
1 This list of books continues for nearly twenty verses.
^ stained, dirty. ^ Mistress. * hinder.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 203
if that the Miller can get's wife to goe
downe to the Mill, they had appointed soe
some flight shot from the house the Mill was set
his wife being there, nought could their purpose let
unto the hill sj'de she did walke the while
that so she might the too longe tyme beguile
if he once whistled she was to come in
the more securely to coniit their sin.
Out of her house the old Lasse would not stir
the Miller scarce could keepe his fist from her
but chaufed & raild, wisht her in deepest hell
in this mad rage he her this newes doth tell
He'le hange himself before he'le leade that life
w**^ such an old-untoward-beldame-wife
w*^ many oathes liis former speech he bound
that he would hange him self that night from ground
so shall I be at once (said he) cleane rid
of such a plague, as ner by man was bid
a foule-mishapen, old, crowe-trodden queane
drivehng at mouth, nose dropping, most obsceene
one were as good in hell it self abide
as to lye by such a red-herrings syde
smoake dry'd hke those that Lymbo doth conteine
and in this rage, away he wente amaine.
Poore cuckqueane she more reason had by far
w*^ him for 's whoare rather to chide & iar.
but this we fynde oft by experience true
the guilty make the guiltlesse most to rue
condemning them, themselves condemnd should be
as in this patterne, yo" may plainly see.
Candles were lighted, th' evening darke did growe
so as one man could not an other knowe
when as they met w[i]thout a candles Ught
as it was darke, so 't was a wyndy nighte
the blustering wynde, a stormc of rayne did raise
a while this Beldam strucke w*'' terro"^ prayes
204 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
prayes & cryes out, howles, makes a mournfull noise
this was the sauce she had w*^ hoped ioyes
w''^ nerthelesse she never did p[ar]take
th' Miller a begger, she a man did make
of rumpe-wood-widdowes, she's a patterne iust
though ner so old, yet younge lads have they must
who for the most p[ar]t, them doe thus rewards
getting their gold they quickly them discarde.
and worthily, what reason can they give
when they for yeares can scarce thre somers live
that they a boy of 18 yeares will wed
& bringe them to their ycie chilling bed?
if lust be not the cause, the divell's then
but thus th'are fitted though by most younge men.
The noise she made, the neighboures quickly heard
therfore came rufiing to her, being afeard
her husband wronged her. In they rushing came
Walter (quoth she) is gon (so was his name
Flood his sir name), in a greate rage from me
vowinge to hange himself imediateUe.
The neighboures to his father bare the newes
who w**^ all's houshold straite way him pursues
w*** all the neighboures dwelling there about
w**^ Lynkes ^ & Lanthornes in a confused route
w**^ Torches, fyrebrands over all the hill
his freinds crying, Walter, Water, Water still
his neighboures likewise they as fast did call
Flood, Flood, Flood, Water, Water, Flood, even all
thus round about the hill all night they run
as if Bi-maters Orgies had bin don
th'old Croane his wife, cry'd out w**^ mournfull noise
Wynde, rayne. Flood, Water, w**^ a sad horse voyce
Nowe in the depths of night, the Prior waked
hearing them cry, his hart for horro' quaked
1 A torch usually made of pitch. Cf. Shakspere, 1 Henry IV,
Act ni, So. 3, 1. 48.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 205
some crying Flood, others did Water cry-
about the hill he many lights did spie
and he imagined they clymb'd the hill
least that the water should their deere lives spill,
his wife, his father, mother & his brother
did all yell out & shrike one to another
other did Lure ^ & hallowe wanting light
some fell in ditches in the darke of nighte
& pittifully cryd, some helpe to have
in ponds some cry, my life, my life, oh save
he heard them talke of drowninge all aboute
the fearful! yelling, howlinge of the route
the wynde blew loude & it apace did rayne
The Prior ready was to dye w*'^ paine
all the day longe, he still the flood did dread
& all night longe he drowning feard in 's bed
he dream'd of nothing but of rayne & water
nowe all of them about the hill doe clater
flood, rayne, wj^nde, water, peoples fearfull cryes
all w*^^ augment liis former iealousies.
That, his Prediction was nowe to expire
iust at this tj^me, as it was told the Prior
thus in a maze, w*^ a much troubled mynde
(for sup[er]stition ever is so blynde
that they are troubled more then there is cause
who — seming wisest are as wyse as dawes)
a knife in ech hand he takes instantly
and cut both cords the w*'^ his boate hunge by
so w*^ a sersarery ^ downe he came
calling aloude upon St Beckets name
bruised w*^'s fall & wounded w**^ one knife
he thus did finish 's superstitious life.
^ to call. A lure was a name for a trumpet.
^ certainty.
206 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
During this hurly-burly and disquiet
in a close cave, the Miller lay close by-it
close lay the Miller to his Paramore
a gallant wenche.^
A certain Jack Gullion has been imprisoned for drunken-
ness by his king:
He ^ sent him to the Gaoile awhile to kepe
that he might setle's braines by rest & sleepe
but when as Gullion to the prison came
and heard that he should suffer for the same.
Nay then (said he) before I dye, I'le drinke
w*^ any man who best himself doth thinke
even for an hundred pound of shininge gold
and here it is (on table he it told.)
Loe this the preparation for his soule
he thus doth praye, nowe when the bell doth tole
even so o'^ prisoners when in gaoile they lye
they practise there all kynde of villany
although their conscience doth convicte them plaine
that they have iustly merited Hell-payne
though nowe the horro'^^ of their conscience might
them (being in durance) grievously affright
because they nowe must unto reckoninge come
not of their lewdnesse all, but of that same
w*''^ will endanger their (most wicked) life
and them expose unto the Hangemans knife
they are as blithe & frolicke as before
Such as their hands embued in bloody gore
nay when they are condemned by the Lawe
to dye the death, they not regarde't a strawe.
^ Vol. II, fos. 52 ff. The author tells the reader that the prophecy
came true concerning the destruction of all religious houses and
orders by the laws of suppression of Henry VIII.
* The German ruler.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 207
Once we must dye, therfore let's merry be
when life doth ende, adieu felicity
(they say) let's drinke o"^ fill while we be here
for Hell is dry, then there is no good beere
A heavy case, men should so desp[er3ate be
but thus it is w*** such we dayly see.
Of drunkenesse a little let's discusse
this vice died not w*^ those eight drunkards ^ thus
but since hath spred itself throug Germany
and nowe in England it growes fruitfully
a Hydra headed monster it appeares
encreasing more & more by tracte of yeares
their fearefuU end doth not make drunkards feare
for still they tipple & wall not forbeare.
Men sometj'me dranke, only to coole their thirst
but nowe untill they doe even almost burst
o"^ gallant Tospots nowe do use to drinke
half pots & pots, untill they downe do sinke
nay out of measure, they by measure swill
by th' yard & ell, that they may have their fill
the next device wilbe to drinke by th' rod
for nowe o'^ drunkards feare nor man nor god
then like to GuUion they'le whole hogshedes quaffe
right Swinish fashion, as the}^ drinke their draffe
Lawes have ben made to curb such heretofore
& by these lynes I doe those Powers implore
to whom redresse of such foule vice belonges
to 'mende th'amisse & right these greivous wrongs.
Of drunkennesse, what nede I more to say
that it is divelish none can well denay
bad for the purse, the body, & the mynde
and yet the worst of all is still behinde
bad for the soule too would yo" have me prove-it
it utterly undoeth all that love-it
' Gullion and his companions in jail.
208 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
the purse is wasted by th' excesive use
the next fild w**^ disease by that abuse
the mynde forgetfull, dull, & melancholly
the soule is damnd to Hell, for that mad folly.
Thre Outs o'^ swaggering Gallants do carouse
when as they meete in swynish-tipling-house
first all the drink the w"^ the pot doth hold
next all the mony they in purse have told
& thirdly all the wit out of their head
that oft a watry ditch, serves for their bed.^
The following quotations continue a series of prison
pictures of which the story of Gullion was the first:
Xadleus he in prison beinge pent
in tyme of actinge this strange accident
for that in divelish witchcraft he had skill
wherby he had don many a greivous ill
he made a scoffe at what the God had don
saying himself would doe as much anon
so that the company came crowdinge in
and did attende when Xadley would begin
Thither by chance a Tanner came to see
what pleasant sport should in the prison be
behinde his backe, a Butte of leather hanged
w*^ GuUion he the pitcher lately banged.
He bid him lay his leather on the table
(quoth he) wilt give it me if I am able
to make it come to me from th' other ende
and never touch it? He did condiscende.
The leather straite came sliding all alonge
to th' admiration of the wonderinge thronge.
He called then: ffiU me a glasse of beere
the Tapster fild a Venice glasse most clere
into his hande he quickly did it take
but let it fall, it all in peices brake
he causd his boy, the peices up to gather
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 36 ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 209'
that he might make it whole, so much the rather
he blowes upon them & they did conioyne
thus made he it both whole againe & fyne.
To kill one that's alive, ech one can doe
yet for a myracle the same doth goe
but I will unto painted men give life
and make them fighte, till death doe end their strife
w*^ that he tooke two Cardes out of the packe
only they two did of the payre ^ lacke
the rest he nj^mbly to the seeling cast
where every one of them did sticke full faste.
those other two w*^'^ he in hande did save
the one of Clubs, the other of Harts the Knave
at ech ende of the table, one he laide
they start upright, that all men were dismaide
and there they fought in earnest & in scorne
till one an other had in peices torne.
There was a villain that was laid in there
a most abhorred bloody murderer
an other that his brother poisoned
his father being then but newly dead,
because the elder did enioye the lands
and this was left to live upon his hands
that day wherin his father was inter'd
he ravisht's sister for he nothing feard
nor angry Gods, nor iustice doeing men
if 't were to doe, he would it doe again
the one a reeper '^ was, all clad in greene
as rancke a Ruffian as was ever scene
these two were most blasphemous swearing knaves
and so in prison ech himself behaves
the first like one starke mad would often swears
yea greatest Gods name, all in peices teare
' pack or deck of cards.
* This may mean "keeper." The word is not clear.
210 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
they st[r]ivinge both, w*^*^ strange oathes all t'excede
and their Redemer often made to bleede
w**^ wounds & nayles, & other oathes besyde
as, harte, & foote, & precious bleeding side
w*^ blood, & hfe, & death & oathes more strange
yea sacred powers, w**^ thinges p[^ro]]fane they range
oh strange & yet comon impiety
that they most vile thinges thus will deifie.
It's comon growne to sweare by faith & troth
for men account the same to be no oath
swearinge is counted nowe to be noe sin
oh monstrous age, what tymes doe we live in!
t'is Gentleman-like both to curse & sweare
and boldy too w[i3thout or dread or feare
'tis the best grace a gentleman can use
in his discourse, who will the same refuse?
Th'are clownes & dolts, that tell a tale sans swearing
disgracefuU is their speeche, if oathes be sparinge
but those that sweare w**^ greatest grace of all
I say that they have iust noe grace at all
they by their faith doe sweare & by their troth
untill indede they neither have of both,
when they by God sweare, they their bellyes meane.
for other God they scarcely care a beane
he that sweares not, they count him not a man
but valiant, noble, that do curse & ban
a man of courage, spirit, brave, & stoute
but he a Milksop that speakes oathes w[i]thout.
divines them selves that others should reprove
dare rap out oathes, & sweare they swearing love
such fellowes are more fit for plough & cart
then take degree & be made M"^ of Arte.^
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 37 verso flf.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 211
Hermes tells Apollo of Rome:
" Rome gnawes the flesh, from th' hands of every man
& hates all those of whom she nought get can.
Rome is the Divels schoole, the Mj'nte of Treason
where the most learned live, quite voide of reason
their best learning's their erro"^** to defende
for this they study & noe other ende.
a cage of Uncleane Birds, a filthy Stewes
where th' Holyest, his hand in blood inbrues
Rome is a Nursery of Toades & spiders
of Serpents, Adders & of cursed Vipers
w'''' doe infecte, w*'^ stinge, & murder all
those lands, & people, they converse w[i]thall
a denne of Serpents & of Dragons fell
a poysonous sty as venomous as Hell.
Rome is a Cabin full of cursed Traitors
a swarme of such men as for blood are wayters
What monstrous villany hath ben attempted
or els comitted, but 't was there invented?
And Aretj^ne a booke of Bawdery writ
w*** many pictures w^** belong'd to it
where many severall wayes he teacheth howe
one may p[er]forme that acte, w**^ shame enough.
that it is true the Stationers can tell
I've seene the pictures publiquely to sell.
In pubUque schooles they sticke not to dispute
(it were more fitter they were dumbe and mute)
whither Sodomy, or matrymonie's best
that w^^ ech honest harte doth most detest
they give 't a handsome name to blynde the eye
caUing it thus, Clementine Venery.
The Church of Rome, may well be catholique
because she eates up lesse as doth a Pike
212 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
eate smaller fishe, for soe doth she devours
all smaller Churches that are in her power.
Or CathoUque, maj^ well thus much betoken
the Common Church, in private be it spoken
for She doth many Common Queanes maintaine
& Common Boyes : here Holynes doth raigne
Pope Clement prov'd it by authority
that women ought be comon & shew'd why.
Hence yo" Laye-people, hence all yo*^ profane
medle not 3^0" w**^ this o holy function
neither o"^ orders, nor o"^ sacred unction
nor come yo" neere o"^ Lemans touch them not
3£ou]r only breath their chastetyes will blotte
goe to the Common Stewes, for that's appointed
for all not beinge w*^ sacred oj\e annoynted.
to touch a Leman that 'longes to a Priest
it is the greatest syn that er'e j'ou udst.
Rare questions there by Doctors are propounded
M'^^ of Arte, & Bachelours well grounded
these & such like not one of them is vaine
whether that God, can make a whore, againe
a Virgine pure? And whether Christ could take
a female creatures, or a womans shape?
if he could turne himself into the forme
that is of damned Divels & of feindes worne?
if he an Asses nature could take on him." ^
" The Pope yo" knowe kepes many Jubihes
amongst his other Jewish cerimonies
there, I myself was present at the last
when all the busj^nes of that daye was past
all housen there were fild so full of guests
that one of them an other much molests
for I that had my chamber private kepte
thre weekes & more, & there securely slepte
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 72 ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 213
was then disturbed w**^ a chamber-mate
by gate & speeche, he seemd a man of state,
at supper he his glasse did kepe alone
he never layde his fingers meate upon
but w*^ his silver carvinge forke he slaid-it
night cald to bed, & he good-man obeid-it
because I knewe not well my chamber-fellowe
my purse I layde, close underneath my pillowe:
... at length I slept foxe-slepe
& often w*^ one eye I up did peepe
to see what this brave gallant went about
first did I see him five on's teeth pull out
w*^^ in a boxe he laid full daintely
then nexte he pulled out his blynde left eye
then puld he off his fayre enameld Nose
w''^ from true flesh could noe mans eyes disclose
it to the flesh conioyned was so well
it shew'd the Artists curming did excell." ^
" Yo" first must knowe this lande ^ in riches flowes
where many a man hath much more then he knowes
in gay apparrell they doe much dehghte
to goe neat clothed is a seemely sighte
but to exceede & passe their owen degree
to take't at best, it is but foolerye.
Many fantastic Asses I have seene
w*'^ w*^ that vice, have fouly tainted bene
but one amongst the rest that did excell
whose story nowe I briefly mcane to tell
so sone as ever any fashion changed
into that shape himself he forthw*** ranged
a most fantasticke shallowe-braj'-ned-GuU
as ever ware a hatte of Spanish-wooll.
1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 73 verso ff. Italy.
214 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
Nowe w*** a swaggering Switzers hose he went
then in a French round hose, that his . . . ^ pent
then w*** a Tankerd-hose, that's greate at waste
ty'de above knee, the upp ende bumbast
nowe w**^ a paire of greate longe paired hose
drawne out w*** silke he wallomngly goes
then w*^ a full cloth hose as bigge at knee
as 'tis above, & thus continewallye
he changeth forme in dublet, hatte, & shoes
in cloake, in bande, & he doth dayly choose
as a newe suite, so a newe colour too
ech day he doth in different colours goe.
nowe like a Rain-bowe, some of every coloure
then hke a Punck in white, even like his mother,
then like a Mourner he's all clad in blacke
nought white, but bande & face : when as alacke
blacke should betoken of a well-staied-head
or of bemoaninge some (deere loved) dead
when I thus sawe him given intollerably
to foUowe every fashion newe so variably
(if he but one sawe, a newe fasliion weare
to be the seconde he would straite prepare." ^
The following selections are taken from a story connected
with the attack on Cadiz. A Spanish mother with one
son has prevented his marriage by attacking the virtue of
women. Later, when her son is slain in the EngUsh attack,
she tells of the sorrows of a mother:
" My son, my son, oh take heede howe yo" wive
Wives are th' p[er]nitionst ^ creatures nowe ahve
the rankst dissemblers that er breathd this ayre
but most inchanting Witches if th'are fayre
^ The word is blurred; it looks like "breche."
2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 77 verso ff.
^ pernicious.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 215
beleve them not, what ever they yo" tell
th'are hoUowe harted as th' vast caves of Hell
th'are like Hyenas seming most to mourne
to wanton laughter presently they turne
their vertues they in folio doe expresse
but all their vices labo"^ to represse
they'le hide their faults, yo" never shall them knowe
but all their vertues they'le to all men showe
if they be amorous enclyned to love
then most inconstant changelinge they will prove
if full of children costly in their fare
if barren most insatiate then they are
if they be younge to wantonesse inclynde
if mydle ag'd, yo" shall them subtile fynde
if old why then w*^ covetize affected
iealous, complayning that they are neglected
if wise then proude & much conceited too
if foolish she's thy shame wher er she goe
if she be rich, she wilbe insolent
if poore (p[er]haps) w*^ lesser state content
if p[er]sonable, comely, then she's coy
if homely, sluttish, her sight doth anoy
if well descended, she'le be bravely kept
all have their vices noe one state except
be ruld by me my son & good heede take
what kynde of creature thou thy wife dost make
more easelier thou shalt a thousand fynde
lewde & p[er]verse then one of vertuous mynde
what man so ever ventures on that Ufe
may for his crosse take up a crooked wife
I will not say but thou by chance mayst hit
on such a one as may be for thee fit.
Into a Barrell can one put liis arme
naked & bare (& yet be free from harme)
fild full of Snakes & stinging Adders eke
can any one I say that so doth seeke
216 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
fynde out one Ele that is put them among
in mydst of such a most contagious thronge?
If he by chance upon the Ele should Ught
can he the Snakes enchant that they not bite?
Is not an Eles tayle, a most shppery hold?
whence comes the proverbe that's as true as old.
Y'are even as good hold a xoette Ele by the tayle
as to repose a tncst in Women fraile.
But say one could out of the Barrell get
the Ele & that the Snakes stinges did not let
a Snakish nature will the Ele possesse
by lying amongst them she can doe no lesse
though their tayles stinge not, yet beware their tongues
the venom'st member that to them belonges.^
After her son's death the mother exclaims :
" To thousand paynes we women are exposd
•^th gi-gifgs ^ feares we restlestly are tosd
when we doe marry we o"^ hopes do misse
being cloy'd w*^ cares, when we expected blisse
Yea the first night that we to bed doe goe
doe we not then cry out for greife & woe
noe other creature feeles like paynes as we
in the deere losse of o'^ virginitie
and w°^ is worse they w*''^ doe love us most
doe payne us thus & in it glorying boast
this payne o're past, when we conceive w*'^ childe
howe careful! are we, lest the same be spoild
and all the while we doe that burthen beare
we never are dischargd of greife & feare
w*** evill stomacks troubled evermore
longing for meates we never lov'd before
for such oft tymes as can noe where be had
faynting & swooning often, that's as bad.
1 Vol. II, fos. 123 verso ff.
SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 217
longe paines in nursing children when th'are borne
but many wantons do that labor scorne
the loathsome noysomnes we doe indure
and waywardnes that nurse them I am sure
the want of sleeps w*^ cryinge all the night
the greivous paines when thej^ o*^ teats doe bite
o'^ breasts obnoxious unto agues oft
w'^^ makes us stoope although we looke aloft
still are o'^ feares increast, one while we dread
to overlay them as we lye in bed
then fyre & water in next place we feare
to keepe them from it, tis o'^ speciall care
when they begin to ch^mbe we feare their falles
if out of sight we seeke them w*'' loudc callcs
one while we feare their bones be out of ioynt
w**^ bone-set-salves we doe the places oynt
nay infinite are th' severall accidents
that doe befall them, some w*^ dyre events.
This charge once past, then there comes next in place
good education w"^^ may give them grace
feare lest they should us by bad courses greive
or by their lewdnes us of ioy deprive
their infancie like to bruite beasts they spende
whose waywardnes doe tetchie Nurses tende
being past the cradle all to sport enclynde
w*^ Apish toyes they please their wanton mynde
a horse, a cowe, or like beast as all men knowe
in 4 or 5 yeares to p[er]fection growe
till twice seaven yeares, th'are children for the rod
themselves not knowing, fearing nor man nor God.
But growe they once to be Haber-de-Hoyes
that is the state betwene a Mans & Boyes
then comes the dangeroust tyme of all their life
(unless they happily finde a vertuous wife)
then riot, lust, quaffing, & swaggering
quarreling, contending, & unthrifty spending
218 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS
our children marrying we good portions give
by meanes wheroft o"^ selves oft poorely live
when old age comes, we then twice children are
& like Anotomies our bones growe bare
a sheete at death we cary to o*^ grave
& this is all the pleasure that we have." ^
1 Vol. II, fos. 126 fif.
INDEX
Alden, R. M., 19 n. 2.
Aldis, H. G., 127.
Ariosto, Ludovico, 29, 45, 46, 51,
124.
Arnold, Matthew, 134.
Baskerville, C. R., 120 n. 1.
Beaumont, Francis, 22 n. 3, 28
n. 6, 113.
Brink, B., ten, 36 n. 1, 38 n. 3.
Bullen, A. H., his references to
the manuscript, 68; 114 n. 2, 133.
Capgrave, John, 43.
Chaucer, Geoffrey, use of couplet,
20; influence on author, 36 ff.;
36 n. 4, 6, 39, 42, 44, 45, 55,
62, 63.
Cutwood, Thomas, 28 n-. 4.
Davies, sir John, 28 n. 4.
Devereux, W. B., 87 n. 4.
Donne, John, 19, his satirical
verse, 23; 60, 116, 136.
Drayton, Michael, 20, 20 n. 3, 54
n. 1, 62, 155.
Essex, Robert Devereux, earl of,
29, 54, 73; J. M.'s praise of,
87 ff.; 109, 115, 135, 136, 139,
143, 151, 156.
Fabliaux, 34; use of, 36 fif.;
38, 39, 40, 42, 43, 156.
Fenton, Geoffrey, 27.
Fleay, F. G., 128, 129, 131 n. 5,
132 n. 1, 154.
Fletcher, John, 22 n. 3, 113.
Foxe, John, 45.
Gifford, William, his criticism of
Marston, 112 ff.
Greene, Robert, 56, 107, 159.
Grosart, Rev. Alexander, his refer-
ences to the manuscript, 67 ff.;
114 n. 3, 115 notes, 122 n. 3,
131 n. 4, 132 n. 2, 133, 137 n. 2,
144, 150 n. 4.
Guilpin, Edward, 28 n. 4, 130.
Hall, Joseph, 16 n. 3, 20, 23, 28 n.
4, 60, 130 n. 2.
Halliwell-Phillipps, J. O., connec-
tion with the manuscript, 67;
68, 110, 133.
Harrington, sir John, 29, 124, 135.
Harte, William, 107, 126, 127 n. 1.
Haslevvood, Joseph, 1; his con-
nections with the manuscript,
65 ff.; 110.
Howard, Charles, earl of Notting-
ham, 54, 73, 115, 136.
Jewell, John, 44, 44 n. 9.
Jonson, Ben, 63; 112 n. 5;
quarrel with Marston, 114 ff.;
119 ff., 130, 155 n. 1.
Lamb, Charles, 113.
Lodge, Thomas, 28.
Marie of France, 34 n. 1.
Markham, C. R., 83 n. 2, 122 n.
4, 134 n. 2. 135, 136 n. 1.
Markham, Francis, 122, 124 ff.,
134 n. 2, 140 n. 3.
Markham, sir Griffin 135, 152, 156.
Markham, Jervase, Thyrsis and
Daphne, 28; 65, 66, 69, 83 n. 1,
90 n. 5, 91, 92, 93 n. 5, 99 n. 1,
107, 108; his family, 122 fif.; liis
personality, 126 fif.; his works,
127 ff., 130; the use of the letter
J in Jervase, 131 ff.; the title
gent., 132 ff. ; the Frenche name;
133 ff.; career as a soldier,
134 ff.; connections with the
Puritans, 137 ff.; Markham and
Essex, 139 ff.; love of country-
life, 140 ff.; wide reading,
219
220
INDEX
141 ff.; Markham and Cam
bridge, 143; as a poet, 143 ff.
affection for his father, 145 ff.
his home, 146; his style, 146 ff.
evidence summed up, 148 ff.
his plagiarism, 149; his hand-
writing, 150 ff.; hatred of Spain,
151 ff.; hatred of Papacy, 152;
the theater, 153; references to
contemporaries, 153 ff.; reason
for not publishing the manu-
script, 155 ff.; conclusion, 158 ff.
Marlowe, Christopher, 28, 28 n. 4,
62, 112.
Marston, John, 1, 16 n. 3; his
verse, 23; 24, 28, 60, 65, 66, 67,
69, 83 n. 4, 105, 108; as author
of the manuscript, 110 ff.; Miss
Toulmin-Smith's objections to
him as the author, 110 ff.; his
real merit. 111 ff.; a gentleman
by title, 114; name not French,
115; as a soldier, 115 ff.; dislike
of the Puritans, 117 ff.; addi-
tional reasons why he could
not be J. M., 118 ff.; his style,
119 ff.; 122, 130, 155 n. 2.
Martin, James, 65, 108 ff.; as the
author, 109.
Mason, John, 65, 66, 108; as the
author, 109.
Massinger, Phihp, 113.
Matilda, 18, 19.
Microcynicon byT. M., 16n. 3.
Middleton, Thomas, 53 n. 2, 113.
Milles, Thomas, 6, 43.
Minshull, Geffray, 109 n. 2.
Ortelius, van, 43.
Ovid, Publius Ovidus Naso, 17,
29; tales borrowed from, 32 ff.;
33 n. 2, 35 n. 2, 39, 43, 60, 91,
156.
Painter, WiUiam, 27.
Pastoral, the use of, 40.
Pettie, George, 27, 32 n. 6.
Piers Plowman, 24.
Pitcairn, Robert, 41 n. 7.
Pliny, the elder, 43.
Plutarch, 43, 142.
Purchas, Samuel, 6, 43, 61.
Ralegh, sir Walter, 6, 44, 54, 73,
75 n. 2, 136, 152.
Rich, Barnabe, 27.
Roberts, James, A banishment of
Cupid, 51 n. 3.
Shakspere, WilHam, 22 n. 2;
Venus and Adonis, 28, 59 n. 1,
61,84n. 2, 111, 112, 113, 119 ff.,
123 n. 4, 154.
Sidney, sir Phihp, 62, 154, 155
n. 1.
Skelton, John, 24.
Speed, John, 44, 44 n. 5, 61.
Spenser, Edmund, 4 n. 8; use of
couplet, 20; 39 ff., 42, 45, 46,
61 ff., 63, 76 n., 78 n. 4, 154.
Stapleton, Thomas, 44, 44 n. 7.
Stowe, John, 43, 61.
Suckhffe, Matthew, 44, 44 n. 8.
Surrey, Henry Howard, earl of, 62.
Theater, reference to the, 63 ff.,
129, 153.
Thorndike, A. H., 121 n. 1.
Toulmin-Smith, Lucy, 1 n. 2,
5 n. 2, 61 n. 1; references to
manuscript, 68 ff., 109 n.. 1;
reasons why not assigned to
Marston, 110 ff., 149.
Tourneur, Cyril, 29, 105, 149.
Vere, sir Francis, 54, 73, 83, 136,
156.
Waldron, F. G., 3 n. 1, 34 n. 4;
connection with the manuscript,
65, 66, 108, 109, 110, 111 n. 4.
Warton, Thomas, 20 n. 1, 121, 132
n. 1.
Webster, John, 113.
Woodberry, George, 20 n. 4.
Wright, Wilham, 41 n. 7.
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