The works of Ben Jonson

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THE

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O F

BEN JONSON,

IN NINE VOLUMES.

WITH NOTES CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY,
AND A BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR,

By W. GIFFORD, ESQ.

The Muses' fairest light hi no dark time j

The wonder of a learned age ; the line

Which none can pass; the most proportion'd wit,

To nature, the best judge of what was fit ;

The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen;

The voice most echo'd by consenting men ;

THE SOUL WHICH ANSWER'D BEST TO ALL WELL SAID

BY OTHERS, AND WHICH MOST REQUITAL MADE.

CLEVELAND.

VOLUME THE NINTH.

CONTAINING

UNDERWOODS, TRANSLATIONS, &c.
DISCOVERIES.
ENGLISH GRAMMAR.
JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR G. AND W. NICOL ; F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON ; CADELL
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By W. Bulmer and Co. Cleveland-row, St. James's.
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UNDERWOODS.

VOL. IX.

A PINDARIC ODE

TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY AND FRIENDSHIP
OF THAT NOBLE PAIR,

SIR LUCIUS GARY,

AND

SIR H. MORISON.

B2

[4]

A PINDARIC ODE, &c.] In that MS. volume, which I have
supposed to be compiled by order of the earl of Newcastle,
there is a letter to him from Jonson, inclosing a few poems on
himself. " My noblest lord, (he says,) and my patron by ex-
cellence, I have here obeyed your commands, and sent you a
packet of mine own praises, which I should not have done, if
I had any stock of modesty in store : — ' but obedience is
better than sacrifice ;' and yon command it."

Two of the inclosures are from (lord Falkland) sir Lucius
Gary. The first he calls " An Anniversary Epistle on sir Henry
Morison, with an Apostrophe to my father Jonson."

" Noble Father,

" I must imitate master Gamaliel Du : both in trou-
bling you with ill verses, and the intention of professing my
service to you by them. It is an Anniversary to sir Henry
Morison, in which, because there is something concerns some
way an antagonist of yours,* I have applied it to you. Though
he may be angry at it, I am yet certain that tale temper amentum
sequar lit de us queri non poterit si de se bene sentiat. What is ill
in them (which I fear is all) belongs only to myself : if there
be any thing tolerable, it is somewhat you dropt negligently
one day at the Dog, and I took up.

Tu tantum accipies ego te legisse putabo
Et tumidus Gallce credulitatefruar."

Sir, I am

Your son and servant."

It appears that this was the third " Anniversary" which sir
Lucius had written ; and as Jonson's letter is fortunately dated,
(Feb. 4th, 1631,) we are authorised to place the death of young
Morison in 1629, which must also be the date of the Ode.

Nothing can exceed the affectionate warmth with which sir
Lucius speaks of his friend, who appears, indeed, to have de-
served all his kindness.

" He had an infant's innocence and truth,
The judgment of gray hairs, the wit of youth,
Not a young rashness, nor an ag'd despair,
The courage of the one, the other's care;
And both of them might wonder, to discern
His ableness to teach, his skill to learn,'* &c.

* This antagonist is Quarles. It (Joes not appear why he was
hostile to Jonson. Sir Henry says little more than that the
subdued and careless tone of his divine poetry is suitable to the
expression of sorrow.

[5]

Among other topics of praise, his friendship and respect for
our author are noticed :

" And next his admiration fix'd on thee,
Our Metropolitan in poetry," &c.

The second inclosure of sir Lucius is a poetical " Epistle to his
noble father Ben/' In this he gives the commencement of their
acquaintance, in an elegant application to himself of the fable
of the fox, who first feared the lion, then grew familiar with
him, &c.

" I thought you proud, for I did surely know,
Had I Ben Jonson been, I had been so :
Now I recant, and doubt whether your store
Of ingenuity,* or ingine be more."

and he adds a wish, which was probably accompanied with
some token of his kindness :

u I wish your wealth were equal to them both ;
You have deserv'd it : and I should be loth
That want should a quotidian trouble be.
To such a Zeno in philosophy."

At what period the acquaintance of this " noble pair" begun
I know not. They seem to have travelled together. Not long
after the return of sir Lucius Gary to England, their intimacy
was still more closely cemented by his growing attachment to
Letitia, the sister of sir Henry Morison, and the daughter of
sir Richard Morison of Tooley Park, in Leicestershire, whom,
to the displeasure of his father (for the lady had no fortune)
he subsequently married. The amiable youth did not live to
witness this event, which took place in 1630, when Lucius was
in his twentieth year. " She was a lady" (lord Clarendon says)
a of a most extraordinary wit (sense) and judgment, and of the
most signal virtue, and exemplary life, that the age produced,
and who brought him many hopeful children in which he took
great delight."

The life and death of this most distinguished nobleman are
familiar to every reader of English history. Lord Clarendon,
who knew him well, having lived, as he says, u on terms of the
most unreserved friendship with him from the age of twenty to
the hour of his death," has given in the History of the Rebellion,

* Of ingenuity.] i. e. of ingenuousness, candour, frankness :
ingine (wit) is used in the large sense of genius and talents;
the common acceptation of the word in that age.

[6]

a delineation of his character replete with grace, elegance,
strength, and beauty, warm with truth, and glowing with ge-
nuine admiration ; which yet does not go beyond what was
said and thought of him by his contemporaries : and it is quite
amusing to find Horace Walpole indulging a hope to counteract
the effect of lord Clarendon's description, with a few miserable
inuendos and captious quibbles, and persuade us that his
friend was little better than a driveller. It is the frog of the fable,
waddling after the lordly bull, with a view to efface the print of
his footsteps.

Warburton says well in his letters to Kurd that " Walpole
(whom he terms a most insufferable coxcomb) after reading
Clarendon, would blush, if he had any sense of shame, for his
abuse of lord Falkland." But Walpole had no sense of shame.
He persecuted lord Falkland, as he did the gallant and high-
spirited duke of Newcastle, because he was loyal to his prince.

Walpole is particularly severe upon lord Falkland's poetry.
Much need not be said of it : — but when it is considered that
this illustrious nobleman always speaks of it himself with the
greatest modesty, and that his little pieces are nothing more
than occasional tributes of love and duty, the sneer of such an
Aristarchus will not appear particularly well directed. It is
true, that Walpole was only acquainted with the lines in the
Jonsonus Virbius : — but had he known of those, which are now
mentioned, for the first time, he would not have abated of his
virulence ; for he had adopted the opinion of his " clawback,"
Pinkerton, respecting Jonson, and any additional praise of him
would therefore only call forth additional abuse of the writer.

There is another part of lord Falkland's character particularly
obnoxious to the critic. " He (lord Falkland) had naturally,'*
(lord Clarendon says, in the History of his own Life) " such a
generosity and bounty in him, that he seemed to have his estate
in trust for all worthy persons who stood in want of supplies
and encouragement, as BEN JONSON and others of that time,
whose fortunes required, and whose spirits made them superior
to ordinary obligations." Walpole, who never bestowed a six-
pence on any worthy object or person, and who conti-
nued, to extreme old age, to fumble with his gold, till his
fingers, like those of Midas, grew encrusted with it. must have
been greatly scandalized at this, and probably drew from* it his
shrewd conclusion that lord Falkland " had much debility of
mind." To have done with this calumniator of true patriotism,
loyalty and virtue — though gorged to the throat with sine-
cures, he was always railing at corruption, and indulging.,
with the low scribblers whose flattery he purchased w ith praise^

[7]

(for he gave nothing else, except the hope of a legacy, which
he never intended to realize*) in splenetic sneers at kings and
courtiers : he called himself a republican, and uttered many
grievous complaints of the loss of liberty, &c., and yet went
crying out of the world because the French were putting his
hopeful maxims of reform into practice.

A Pindaric Ode, &c.] In the edition of 1640, in 12mo. this
poem is called A Pindaric Ode ; a title left out in all subsequent
editions, and which I have now restored. For this ode is a true
and regular Pindaric, and the first in our language, that hath
a just claim to that title. Jonson was perfectly acquainted with
the manner of Pindar, and hath followed it with great exactness
in the structure of this poem. The terms of art, denoted by the
turn, the counter-turn^ and the stand^ are a translation of the
strophe, the antistroph^ and epode, which divided the Greek
odes. The English reader may possibly be desirous to have them
more particularly explained ; what I have to say therefore on
this point, I shall take the liberty to borrow from the learned
Mr. West's preface to his elegant translation of the Odes of
Pindar. It is chicly built upon a passage in the Scholia on Jffe-
phcestion. " The ancients, says the scholiast, in their odes
framed two larger stanzas, and one less : the first of the large
stanzas they called strophe, singing it on their festivals at the
altars of their gods, and dancing at the same time. The second
they called antistrophe, in which they inverted the dance : the
lesser stanza was named the epode^ which they sung standing
still. From this passage, (continues Mr. West,) it appears evi-
dent, that these odes were accompanied with dancing, and that
they danced one way while the strophe, was singing, and then
danced back again while the dntistrophe was sung : which shews
why these two parts consisted of the same length and measure:
then when the dancers were returned to the place whence they
set out, before they renewed the dance, they stood still while
the epode was sung. Such was the structure of the Greek ode,
in which the strophe and antistropke^ i. e. the first and second
stanzas, contained always the same number, and the same kind
of verses : the epode was of a different length and measure : and
if the ode ran out into any length, it was always divided into
triplets of stanzas , the two first being constantly of the same

* On this point Mr. Pinkerton is peculiarly affecting, in the
Preface to his Walpoliana.

[8]

length and measure ; and all the epodes in like manner corre-
sponding exactly with each other : from all which the regu-
larity of this kind of compositions is sufficiently evident." Thus
far this ingenious gentleman. There is one remark, however,
to be made upon the scholiast of Hephaestion ; who supposeth
the epode to be always the lesser stanza, or to contain fewer
verses than either the strophe or antistrophe : but this is not
true in fact : the cpodes of Pindar are various ; some of them
fall short of the stroph^ some have an equal number of verses,
and others again exceed it : and Jonson hath made his stand to
be longer than the turn or counter-turn^ by the addition of a
couplet. The reader will, I hope, excuse the prolixity of this
note ; I have been the more exact in explaining the true nature
of the Pindaric ode, as the poem before us does honour to
Jonson's learning and knowledge in ancient criticism, and as
the idea we have formed from compositions of this kind, by
many modern poets, gives us but a very distorted likeness of
the great original : a much better copy was taken by our au-
thor, than what appears in those collections of lines of all
lengths and sizes, which have been passed upon the world as
translations or imitations of Pindar. WHAL.

I agree with Whalley. Nothing but ignorance of the exist-
ence of this noble Ode can excuse the critics, from Dryden
downwards, for attributing the introduction of the Pindaric Ode
into our language to Cowley. Cowley mistook the very nature
of Pindar's poetry, at least of such as is come down to us, and
while he professed to "imitate the style and manner of his Odes/'
was led away by the ancient allusions to those wild and
wonderful strains of which not a line has reached us. The metre
of Pindar is regular, that of Cowley is utterly lawless ; and his
perpetual straining after points of wit, seems to shew that he
had formed no corrector notion of his manner than of his style.
It is far worse when he leaves his author, and sets up for a
Pindaric writer on his own account : — but I am not about to
criticize Cowley.

In Jonson's Ode we have the very soul of Pindar. His artful
but unlaboured plan, his regular returns of metre, his interestin
pathos, his lofty morality, his sacred tone of feeling occasion,
ally enlivened by apt digression, or splendid illustration. j-To
be short, there have been Odes more sublime, Odes far more
poetical than this before us, but none that in Cowley 's words,
so successfully " copy the style and manner of the Odes of
Pindar." As Jonson was his first, so is he his best, imitator.

[9]

LXXXVIII.
A PINDARIC ODE

ON THE DEATH OF SIR H. MORISON.
I.

THE STROPHE,
OR

TURN.

Brave infant of Saguntum, clear
Thy coming forth in that great year,1
When the prodigious Hannibal did crown
His rage, with razing your immortal town.
Thou looking then about,
Ere thou wert half got out,
Wise child, didst hastily return,
And mad'st thy mother's womb thine urn.
How summ'd a circle didst thou leave mankind
Of deepest lore, could AVC the centre find !

1 Brave infant ofSaguntum, clear

Thy coming forth, &c.] Saguntum was a city of Spain,
memorable for its fidelity to the Romans, and the miseries it
underwent when besieged by Hannibal. It was at last taken by
storm ; but the inhabitants, who before had suffered all extre-
mities, committed themselves and their effects to the flames, ra-
ther than fall into the hands of their enemy. The story to which
Jonson here refers, is thus told by Pliny ; Est inter exempla, in
uterum protimts reversus infans Sagunti^ quo anno ab Annibalc
dekta est. L. 7. c. 3. WHAL.

It ought to be observed that the word Pindaric was not pre-
fixed by Jonson : in the Museum MS. the poem is simply called
4» An Ode on the dea.th of sir H. Morison."

10 UNDERWOODS.

THE ANTI STROP HE,

OR
COUNTER-TURN.

Did wiser nature draw thee back,

From out the horror of that sack ;
Where shame, faith, honour, and regard of right,
Lay trampled on ? the deeds of death and night,
Urged, hurried forth, and hurl'd
Upon th* affrighted world ;

Fire, famine, and fell fury met,

And all on utmost ruin set :
As, could they but life's miseries foresee,
No doubt all infants would return like thee.

THE EPODE,

OR
STAND.

For what is life, if measur'd by the space,

Not by the act ?
Or masked man, if valued by his face,

Above his fact ?
Here's one outliv'd his peers,
And told forth fourscore years :2

* Herts one outliv'd his peers.

And told forth four score y€ars.~\ Perhaps this, and what fol-
lows in the next stanza, was intended as a character of Car,

UNDERWOODS. 11

He vexed time, and busied the whole state ;
Troubled both foes and friends ;
But ever to no ends :
What did this stirrer but die late ?
How well at twenty had he fallen or stood !
For three of his fourscore he did no good.

II.

THE STROPHE,
OR

TURN.

He enter'd well by virtuous parts,
Got up, and thriv'd with honest arts ;
He purchased friends, and fame, and honours

then,

And had his noble name advanced with men :
But weary of that flight,
He stoop'd in all men's sight
To sordid flatteries, acts of strife,
And sunk in that dead sea of life,
So deep, as he did then death's waters sup,
But that the cork of title buoy'd him up.

who, taken into favour by James I. was at length advanced to
the earldom of Somerset. The particulars of his history are well
known. WHAL.

This does not apply to Carr, who could not have told forth
much above forty years, when the Ode was written. It seems to
refer rather to the old earl of Northampton : but, perhaps,
no particular person was meant, though the poetical character
might be strengthened and illustrated by traits incidentally
drawn from real life.

12 UNDERWOODS.

THE ANTISTIIOPHE,

OR
COUNTER-TURN.

Alas ! but MOHISON fell young : 3
He never fell, — thou fall'st, my tongue.
He stood a soldier to the last right end,
A perfect patriot, and a noble friend ;
But most, a virtuous son.
All offices were done
By him, so ample, full, and round,
In weight, in measure, number, sound,
As, though his age imperfect might appear,
His life was of humanity the sphere.

THE EPODE,

OR
STAND.

Go now, and tell our days summ'd up with fears,

And make them years ;
Produce thy mass of miseries on the stage,

To swell thine age :
Repeat of things a throng,
To shew thou hast been long,
Not li v'd ; for life doth her great actions spell,
By what was done and wrought
In season, and so brought
To light : her measures are, how well

3 Alas! but Morison fell young:] There was then* ano-
ther conformity between the destinies of the noble pair, which,
however, Jonson did not live to witness ; for Lucius himself had
scarcely attained his thirty-third year, when he also fell, glo-
riously fell, in the field of honour, and in the cause of his
sovereign and hi§ country, at the battle of Newbury.

UNDERWOODS. 13

Each syllabe answer'd, and was form'd, how-
fair;
These make the lines of life, and that's her air !

III.

THE STROPHE,

OR
TURN.

It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make men better be ;*
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear :
A lily of a day,
Is fairer far, in May,
Although it fall and die that night;
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures, life may perfect be.

* It is not growing like a tree, &c.] " The qualities of vivid
perception and happy expression" (it is said in the Life of John
Dryderi) "unite in many passages of Shakspeare; but such
Jonson — poor Ben's unarmed head is made a quintain upon all
occasions — " but such Jonson was unequal to produce, and he
substituted strange, forced, and most unnatural analogies."
p.xi. For the proof of this we are referred to the present ode,
which, with the rest of Jonson's " Pindarics" (where are they
to be found ?) is treated with the most sovereign contempt.
u In reading Jonson (it is added/ we have often to marvel how
his conceptions could have occurred to any human being.
Shakspeare is like an ancient statue, the beauty of which, &c.
Jonson is the representation of a monster, which is at first only
surprising, and ludicrous and disgusting ever after." p. xii.

14 UNDERWOODS.

THE ANTISTROPHE,

OR
COUNTER-TURN.

Call, noble Lucius, then for wine,

And let thy looks with gladness shine :
Accept this Garland, plant it on thy head,
And think, nay know, thy MORISON'S not dead.
He leap'd the present age,
Possest with holy rage,

To see that bright eternal day ;

Of which we priests and poets say
Such truths, as we expect for happy men :
And there, he lives with memory, and BEN

THE EPODE,

OR
STAND.

JONSON, who sung this of him, ere he went,

Himself, to rest,

Or taste a part of that full joy he meant
To have exprest,

In this bright asterism !

Where it were friendship's schism,
Were not his Lucius long with us to tarry,
To separate these twi-
Lights, the Dioscuri ;
And keep the one half from his Harry. -
But fate doth so alternate the design,
Whilst that in heaven, this light on earth must
shine, —

UNDERWOODS. 15

IV.

THE STROPHE,

OR
TURN,

And shine as you exalted are ;
Two names of friendship, but one star :
Of hearts the union, and those not by chance
Made, or indenture, or leased out t' advance
The profits for a time.
No pleasures vain did chime,
Of rhymes, or riots, at your feasts,
Orgies of drink, or feign'd protests :
But simple love of greatness and of good,
That knits brave minds and manners, more than
blood.

THE ANTISTROPHE,

OR
COUNTER-TURN.

This made you first to know the why

You liked, then after, to apply
That liking ; and approach so one the t'other,
Till either grew a portion of the other:
Each styled by his end,
The copy of his friend.

You liv'd to be the great sir-names,

And titles, by which all made claims
Unto the Virtue : nothing perfect done,
But as a GARY, or a MORISON.

16 UNDERWOODS.

THE EPODE,

OR
STAND.

And such a force the fair example had,

As they that saw
The good, and durst not practise it, were glad

That such a law
Was left yet to mankind ;
Where they might read and find
Friendship, indeed, was written not in words;
And with the heart, not pen,
Of two so early men
Whose lines her rolls were, and records :
Who, ere the first down bloomed on the chin,
Had sow'd these fruits, and got the harvest in.

UNDERWOODS. 17

LXXXIX.

AN EPIGRAM

TO WILLIAM EARL OF NEWCASTLE.*

ON HIS FENCING.

They talk of Fencing, and the use of arms,
The art of urging and avoiding harms,

1 Jonson's connection with the family of this distinguished
nobleman was close and of long continuance. He has monu-
mental verses on several of its members ; those which follow are
extracted from the MS. volume in the British Museum.

" CHARLES CAVENDISH

TO HIS POSTERITY.

Sons, seek not me among these polish'd stones-^

These only hide part of my flesh and bones,

Which, did they e'er so neat and proudly dwell,

Would all turn dust, and should not make me swell.

Let such as justly have outliv'd all praise,

Trust in the tombs their careful friends do raise ;

I made my Life my monument, and yours.

Than which there's no material more endures," &c.

Sir Charles Cavendish, who thus addresses his children, was
the third son of sir William Cavendish, deservedly known and
esteemed, as the faithful and confidential servant of cardinal
Wolsey. He died in 1618, and was succeeded, in his vast es-
tates, by his eldest son, William, the munificent friend and pro-
tector of our poet.

" EPirAPH

ON LADY KATHERINE OGLE.

She was the light (without reflex
Upon herself) of all her sex,
VOL, XT, C

18 UNDERWOODS.

x

The noble science, and the mastering skill
Of making just approaches how to kill ;

The best of women ! — Her whole life

Was the example of a wife,

Or of a parent, or a friend I

AH circles had their spring and end

In her, and what could perfect be

And without angles, IT WAS SHE. —

All that was solid in the name
Of virtue ; precious in the frame,
Or else magnetic in the force,
Or sweet, or various, in the course ;
What was proportion, or could be
By warrant call'd just symmetry
In number, measure, or degree
Of weight or fashion, IT WAS SHE. —

Her soul possest her flesh's state
In freehold, not as an inmate,
And when the flesh here shut up day,
Fame's heat upon the grave did stay,
And hourly brooding o'er the same,
Keeps warm the spice of her good name.
Until the ashes turned be
Into a Phoenix — WHICH is SHE,"

This lady, the second wife of sir Charles Cavendish, and
mother of the duke of Newcastle, was the daughter and coheir
of Cuthbert, lord Ogle. She outlifed her husband several years,
and was declared baroness Ogle in 1628.

« EPITAPH

ON THE LADY JANE.

I could begin with that grave form Here lies
(And bid thee, reader, bring thy weeping eyes
To see who 'tis — ) a noble countess, great
In blood, in birth, by match and by her seat,
Religious, wise, chaste, loving, virtuous, good
And number attributes unto a flood ;
But every tablet in this church doth tell
Such things of every body, and as well-
But I would have thee to know something new,
Not usual in a lady, and yet true,

UNDERWOODS. 19

To hit in angles, and to clash with time :
As all defence or offence were a chime !

At least so great a lady — she was wife

But of one husband, and since he left life,

But sorrow she desired no other friend)

And her, she made her inmate, to the end.

To call on sickness still to be her guest,

Whom she with sorrow first did lodge, then feast,

Then entertain, and as death's harbinger,

So woo'd at last that he was won to her

Importune wish, and by her lov'd lord's side

To lay her here, inclosed, his second bride ;

Where, spight of death, next life, for her love's sake

This second marriage will eternal make/'

This Jane was the eldest daughter of lord Ogle, and sister of
the lady just mentioned. She married Edward, eighth earl of
Shrewsbury, (younger brother of the Gilbert so often noticed,)
and died in l625, having survived her husband about seven
years.

I have not copied the whole. Enough, however, is given
to shew that the assistance of Jonson was called in upon every
occasion, whether of melancholy or mirth.

The volume from which this was taken, contains also an Inter-
lude, never yet noticed by the poet's biographers. It has neither
title nor date ; but appears to have been written by him for the
christening of a son of the earl of Newcastle, to which the king
or the prince (both seem to have been present) stood godfather.
It consists principally of the unrestrained and characteristic
tattle of three gossips ; and though the language may appear
somewhat too free for the present times, yet as a matter of
curiosity, I have ventured to subjoin the chief part of it.

The Scene is the earl of Newcastle's house, in the Black
Friars.

" At the entrance to the Banquet,
A Forester.

Sir, you are welcome to the forest : you have seen a battle
upon a table, now you see a hunting.* 1 know not what the

* It appears that the table represented a hunting scene in

20 UNDERWOOD S.

I hate such measured, give me mettled, fire,
That trembles in the blaze, but then mounts
higher !

game will prove, but the ground is well clothed with trees.
The most of these deer will come to hand— if they take cover,
sir, down with the woods, for the hunting is meant to be so
royal as trees, dogs, deer, all mean to be a part of the quarry.

In the Passage.

DUGCS, wet nurse ; KECKS, dry nurse ; and HOLDBACK,
midwife.

Duggs. Are they coming ? where ? which are the
gossips ?

Kecks. Peace, here they come all.

Duggs. I'll up and get me a standing behind the arras.

Hold. You'll be thrust there, i'faith, nurse.

Kecks. *

Hold. No ; he with the blue riband, peace !

Kecks. O, sweet gentleman ! he a gossip! he were fitter
to be a father, i'faith.

Hold. So they were both, an 'twere fortune's good plea-
sure to send it.

At the Banquet.

HOLDBACK enters with the child, DUGGS and KECKS.
Hold. Now heaven multiply your highness and my ho-

sweetmeats. We cannot easily conceive the enormous sums
expended in constructing those banquets. Every object of art
or nature was represented in them ; and castles and towers and
towns were reared of march-pane of a size that would confound
the faculties of the confectioners of these degenerate days.
The courtier, like the citizen, was a moit Jierce devourer of
plums, and the ships, bulwarks, forests, &c. that were not eaten
on the spot, were conveyed into the pockets of the guests, and
carried off, without stint and without shame.

* A short question was probably overlooked by the scribe.

UNDERWOODS. 21

A quick and dazzling motion; when a pair
Of bodies meet like rarified air !

nourable lord too, and my good lady the countess. I have
one word for you all, Welcome! which is enough to the
wise, and as good as a hundred, you know. This is my day.
My lords and my ladies, how like you my boy ? is't not a
goodly boy ? I said his name would be Charles when I look'd
upon Charles' wain t'other night. He was born under that
star — I have given measure, i'faith, he'll prove a pricker by
one privy mark that I found about him. Would you had such
another, my lord gossips, every one of you, and as like the
father. O what a glad woman and a proud should I be to be
seen at home with you upon the same occasion !

Duggs. Come, come, never push for it, woman ; I know
my place. It is before, and I would not have you mistake it.

Kecks. Then belike my place is behind.

Duggs. Be it where it will, I'll appear.

Hold. How now, what's the matter with you two ?

Duggs. Why, mistress- Kecks, the dry nurse, strives to
have place.

Kecks. Yes, mistress Duggs, I do indeed.

Hold. What ! afore the Prince ! are you so unrude and
uncivil ?

Kecks. Why not afore the Prince ? (worshipp'd might he
be) I desire no better a judge.

Hold. No ! and my lord Chancery here ? Do you know
what you say ? Go to, nurse, have done, let the music have
their part. You have made a joyful house here, i'faith ; the
glad lady within in the straw, I hope, has thanked you for
her little carl, the little Christian — such a comfortable day as
this will ever make the father ready to adventure for another,
in my conscience. Sing sweetly, I pray you, an you have a
good breast, out with it for my lord's credit.

SONG.

If now as merry you could be

As you are welcome here,
Who wait would have no time to see

The meanness of the cheer.

22 UNDERWOODS.

Their weapons darted with that flame and force,
As they out-did the lightning in the course;

But you that deign the place and lord

So much o' bounty and grace,
Read not the banquet on his board,

But that within his face.

Where if, by 'engaging of his heart,

He yet could set forth more,
The world would scarce afford a part

Of such imagined store.

All had been had that could be wish'd

Upon so rich a pawn,
Were it ambrosia to be dish'd,

Or nectar to be drawn.

Duggs, How, dame ! a dry nurse better than a wet nurse ?

Kecks. Ay. Is not summer better than winter ?

Duggs. O, you dream of a dry summer.

Kecks. And you are so wet, you are the worse again. Do
you remember my lady Kickup's child, that you gave such
a bleaching to 'twas never clear since?

Duggs. That was my lady Kickup's own doing, and not
mine.

Kecks. 'Twas yours — and you shrunk in the wetting for't,
if you be remembered ; for she turned you away, I am sure.
— Wet moons, you know,, were ever good weed springers.

Duggs. My moon's no wetter than thine, goody Caudle-
xnaker.

Hold. Why, can I carry no sway nor stroke among you !
Will you open yourselves thus, and let every one enter into
your secrets ? — I am nobody I, I know nothing ! I am a mid-
wife of this month ! I never held a lady's back till now, you
think.

Duggs. We never thought so, mistress Holdback.

Hold. Go to, you do think so, upon the point, and say as
much in your behaviour. Who, I pray you, provided your
places for you ? was't not I ? — I told her ladyship at first
the was sped, and then upon her pain after drinking the mead

UNDERWOODS. 33

This were a spectacle, a sight to draw
Wonder to valour ! No, it is the law

and the hydromel, I assured her it was so without all perad-
venture — I know nothing ! After this, when my lord was
deporfunate with me to know my opinion whether it was a
boy or a girl that her ladyship went withal, I had not my
signs and my prognostics about me — as the goodness of her
ladyship's complexion, the coppedness of her belly, on the
right side, the lying of it so high, to pronounce it a boy !
Nor T could not say upon the difference of the paps, when
the right breast grew harder, the nipple red, rising like a
strawberry, the milk white, and standing like pearls upon
my nail, a boy still for my money ! — No, upon the very day
of my lady's labour, when the wives came in, I offered not
wagers, not the odds three to one, having observed the moon
the night before, and that her ladyship set her right foot fore-
most, the right pulse beat quicker and stronger, and her
right eye grown and sparkling! lassure your lordship I offered
to hold master doctor a Discretion it was a boy ; and if his
rloctorship had laid with me and ventured, he had lost his dis-
cretion.

Kec/cs. Why, here's nobody calls your skill in question ;
we know that you can tell when a woman goes with a tym-
pany or a mole.

Hold. Ay, and whether it be a wind or a water mole, I
thank God, and our mistress Nature : she is God's cham-
bermaid, and the midwife is her's. — We can examine the
sufficiency and capability of persons by our places : we try
all conclusions. Many a good thing passes through the
midwife's hand, many a merry tale by her mouth, many a
glad cup through her lips: she is the leader of wives, and
the queen of the gossips.

Kecks. But what is this to us, mistress Holdback — as to
which is the better nurse, the wet or the dry ?

Hold. Nay, make an end of that between yourselves. I
am sure I am dry with talking to you. Give rile a cup of
hippocras.

Duggs. Why, see there now whether dryness be not a
defect out of her own mouth, that she is fain to call for
moisture to wet her ! Does not the infant do so when it would
suck ? What stills the child when it is dry but the teat ?

24 UNDERWOODS.

Of daring not to do a wrong; 'tis true
Valour to slight it, being done to you.

Kecks. But when it is wet, in the blankets, with your
superfluities, what quiets it then ? It is not the two bottles
at the breasts, that when you have emptied you do nothing
but drink to fill again, will do it. It is the opening of him,
and the washing and the cleansing, and especially the drying
that nourishes the child — clearing his eyes and nostrils,
wiping his ears, fashioning his head with stroking it between
the hands, forming his mouth for kissing again he come to
age, laying his legs and arms straight, and swathing them so
justly as his mother's maids may leap at him when he boun-
ces out on his blankets. These are the offices of a nurse ! —
What beauty would ever behold him hereafter if I now by
negligence of binding should either make him cramp-shoul-
dered, crooked-legg'd, splay-footed, or by careless placing the
candle in a wrong light should send him forth into the world
with a pair of false eyes ! No 'tis the nurse, and by excel-
lence, the dry nurse, that gives him fashionable feet, legs,
hands, mouth, eyes, nose, or whatever, in member else, is
acceptable to ladies.

Duggs. Nay, there you wrong mistress Holdback, for it
is she that gives him measure, I'm sure.
Hold. Ay, and I'll justify his measure.
Duggs. But what increases that measure, but his milk
and his battening?

Kecks. Yes, and your eating and drinking to get more ;
your decoctions and caudles— -thou mis-proud creature, I am
ashamed of thee !

Duggs. How enviously she talks ! as if any nearer or
nobler office could be done the child than to feed him, or
any more necessary than to encrease that which is its nutri-
ment, from both which I am truly and principally named his
nurse.

Kecks. Principally! O the pride of thy paps ! —as if tljere
were no nutriment but milk, or nothing could nurse a child
but sucking ! Why, if there were no milk in nature, is there
no other food ? — How were my lady provided else against
your going to man, if the toy should take you, and corrupting
your milk that way ?

UNDERWOODS. 25

To know the heads of danger, where 'tis fit
To bend, to break, provoke, or suffer it ;

How ! I go to man, and corrupt my milk, thou
dried eel-skin !

Kecks. You, mistress wet-eel -by-the-tail, if you have a
mind to it. Such a thing has been done.

Duggs. I defy thee, I, thou onion-eater ! And, now I think
on't, rny lady shall know of your close diet, your cheese and
chibbols, with your fresh tripe and garlick, — it makes a sweet
perfume in the nursery !

Hold. Ay, by my faith — but pack you both hence— here
comes a wise man will tell us another tale.

'Enter a Mathematician.*

'Tis clear, in heaven all good aspects agree

To bless with wonder this nativity ;

But what needs this our star so far extend

When here a star shines that doth far transcend

In all benevolence, and sways more power

To rule his whole life, than the star his hour ?

For in a prince are all things, since they all

To him as to their end in nature fall,

As from him being their fount, all are produced,

Heaven's right through his, where'er he rules, diffused

This child then from his bounty shall receive,

Judgment in all things, what to take or leave ;

Matter to speak, and sharpness to dispute

Of every action, both the root and fruit,

Truly foreseeing in his each fit deed,

Wisdom to attempt and spirit to proceed ;

In mirth ingenious he shall be, in game

He shall gain favour, in things serious, fame.

Dissensions shall he shun and peace pursue,

Friendships, by frailties broke, he shall renew.

Virtue by him shall gain agen her youth,

And joy as much therein as in her truth.

All helpless chances he shall free indure,

And, perils past, at length survive secure ;

* i. e. an astrologer.

26 UNDERWOODS,

All this, my lord, is valour : this is yours,1
And was your father's, all your ancestors I

This is the song wherewith his fates are full,
That spin his thread out of their whitest wool."

This is followed by a ridiculous Song describing a battle
between the Nurses within.

The Watermen of the Black-Friars are then introduced into
the Hall, with a

SONG.

" They say it is merry when gossips do meet,
And more to confirm it, in us you may see't,
For we have well tasted the wine in the street,
And yet we make shift to stand on our feet.

As soon as we heard the Prince would be here,
We knew by his coming we should have good cheer ;
A boy for my lady ! — thus every year,
Cry we—for a girl will afford us but beer."

Two or three others follow. Then this
SONG.

" Fresh as the day, and neiv as are the hours,
Our first of fruits, that is the prime of flowers
Bred by your breath on this low bank of ours

Now in a garland by the Graces knit

Upon this obelisk, advanced for it,

We off eras a circle the most fit,

To crown the years, which you begin, great king,
And you with them, as father of our spring.19

And the piece concludes with a Song of several stanzas

t' or genius' from the earl's

* All this, my lord, is valour : this is yours, Ac.l This was
written many years before the earl of Newcastle, (or, as The

UNDERWOODS. 27

Who durst live great 'mongst all the colds and

heats

Of human life; as all the frosts and sweats
Of fortune, when or death appear'd, or bands :
And valiant were, with or without their hands*

xc.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE

LORD HIGH TREASURER OF ENGLAND,*

AN EPISTLE MENDICANT,

MDCXXXI.

MY LORD,

Poor wretched states, prest by extremities,
Are fain to seek for succours and supplies
Of princes aids, or good men's charities.

Disease the enemy, and his ingineers,

Want, with the rest of his conceal'd compeers,

Have cast a trench about me, now -five years,

And made those strong approaches by false brays,
Redouts, half-moons, horn-works, and such close

ways,
The muse not peeps out, one of hundred days;

MS. terms him, of Mansfield) took up arms in the defence of
his king and country. Jonson knew his patrons ; and it may
be added, to the credit of his discernment, that few of them
belied his praises.

3 Richard, lord Weston. He was appointed to this office in
1 6 28, and was succeeded at his death, in 1634, by a commission,
at the head of which was Laud. 1 his Epistle enables us to as-
certain the commencement of that illness which, after a tedious
and painful conflict of eleven years, terminated the poet's life
in 1637.

28 UNDERWOODS.

But lies block'd up, and straiten'd, narrow'd in,
Fix'd to the bed and boards, unlike to win
Health, or scarce breath, as she had never been;

Unless some saving honour of the crown,
Dare think it, to relieve, no less renown,
A bed-rid wit, than a besieged town.

XCI.

TO THE KING

ON HIS BIRTH-DAY,

Nov. 19, MDCXXXII.
AN EPIGRAM ANNIVERSARY.

This is king Charles his day. Speak it, thou Tower,

Unto the ships, and they from tier to tier,
Discharge it 'bout the island in an hour,

As loud as thunder, and as swift as fire.
Let Ireland meet it out at sea, half-way,

Repeating all Great Britain's joy and more,
Adding her own glad accents to this day,

Like Echo playing from the other shore.
What drums or trumpets, or great ordnance can,

The poetry of steeples, with the bells,
Three kingdoms mirth, in light and aery man,

Made lighter with the wine. All noises else,
At bonfires, rockets, fire-works, with the shouts

That cry that gladness which their hearts

would pray,
Had they but grace of thinking, at these routs,

On the often coming of this holy day :

UNDERWOODS. 29

And ever close the burden of the song,
Still to have such a Charles, but this Charles
long.

The wish is great ; but where the prince is such,
What prayers, people, can you think too much !

XCIL

ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

A^ND VIRTUOUS LORD WESTON,

LORD HIGH TREASURER OF ENGLAND,

UPON THE DAY HE WAS MADE EARL OF PORTLAND,

Feb. 17, MDCXXXII.

TO THE ENVIOUS.4

Look up, thou seed of envy, and still bring
Thy faint and narrow eyes to read the king
In his great actions : view whom his large hand
Hath raised to be the PORT unto his LAND!
Weston ! that waking man, that eye of state !
Who seldom sleeps ! whom bad men only hate !
'Why do I irritate or stir up thee,
Thou sluggish spawn, that canst, but wiltnot see !

4 To the Envious.'] Weston had many enemies, and his sudden
rise was not seen without jealousy. Charles appears to have
entertained an extraordinary regard for him, probably on ac-
count of his being warmly recommended by the duke of
Buckingham, whose favour, however, he is said to have outlived.
The treasurer seems to have been an imprudent, improvident
man ; with considerable talents for business, but fickle and
irresolute. He died, lord Clarendon says, without being la.
mented, " bitterly mentioned by those who never pretended

30 UNDERWOODS.

Feed on thyself for spight, and shew thy kind ;
To virtue and true worth be ever blind.
Dream thou couldst hurt it, but before thou wake
To effect it, feel thou'st made thine own heart
ache.

XCIII.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HlEROME, LORD

WESTON,*

AN ODE GRATULATORY,

FOR HIS RETURN FROM HIS EMBASSY,

MDCXXXII.

Such pleasure as the teeming earth

Doth take in easy nature's birth,
When she puts forth the life of every thing ;

And in a dew of sweetest rain,

She lies deliver'd without pain,
Of the prime beauty of the year, the Spring,

The rivers in their shores do run,
The clouds rack clear before the sun,

The rudest winds obey the calmest air;
Rare plants from every bank do rise,
And every plant the sense surprise,

Because the order of the whole is fair !

The very verdure of her nest,
Wherein she sits so richly drest,
As all the wealth of season there was spread,

to love him, and severely censured by those who expected most
from him and deserved best of him."

1 The eldest son of the earl of Portland ; a young man of
amiable manners, and of talents and worth.

UNDERWOODS. 31

Doth shew the Graces and the Hours6
Have multiplied their arts and powers,
In making soft her aromatic bed.

Such joys, such sweets, doth your return

Bring all your friends, fair lord, that burn
With love, to hear your modesty relate,

The business of your blooming wit,

With all the fruit shall follow it,
Both to the honour of the king and state.

0 how will then our court be pleas'd,
To see great Charles of travail eas'd,

When he beholds a graft of his own hand,

Shoot up an olive, fruitful, fair,

To be a shadow to his heir,
And both a strength and beauty to his land !

6 Doth shew the Graces and the Hours.] The Hours are the
poetical goddesses, which in common language mean only the
seasons ; but our poet has the authority of his Greek and
Roman predecessors. WHAL.

1 do not quite understand what was meant to be said in this
note ; but I will venture to add to it, that there is a great deal
of grace and beauty in this little compliment.

EPITHALAMION.

OR A

SONG,

Celebrating the NUPTIALS of that noble Gen-
tleman, Mr. HIEROME WESTON, son and heir
of the lord WESTON, Lord High Treasurer of
England, with the lady FRANCES STEWART,
daughter of ESME duke of Lenox, deceased,
and sister of the surviving duke of the same

name.

VOL. IX.

D

EPITHALAMION. &c.] Jerome returned from his embassy in
1632, and became earl of Portland in 1634, so that this poem
was probably written in the intermediate year. This marriage
was much forwarded by Charles, in compliment (lord Clarendon
says) to the treasurer ; the bride, who was distantly related to
the king, was the youngest daughter of Esme, third duke of
Lenox, the friend and patron of Jonion ; she is celebrated for
her beauty and amiable qualities, and was happy in a husband,
altogether worthy of her. In her issue she was less fortunate ;
her only son, whom lord Clarendon mentions (in his " Life")
as a young man of excellent parts, being killed in the action
with the Dutch fleet under Opdam in 1665. " He died fighting
very bra?ely." The title fell to his uncle, who died without
issue, when it became extinct : and thus was verified the pious
and prophetic hope of that rancorous puritan sir Antony Wei-
don, that " God would reward Weston, and that he and his
posterity, which, like a Jonas's gourd, sprang up suddenly from
a beggarly estate to much honour and great fortunes, would
shortly wither !" Court of King Charles, p. 43.

UNDERWOODS.

XCII.
EPITHALAMION.

Though thou hast past thy summer-standing,

stay

Awhile with us, bright sun, and help our light ;
Thou canst not meet more glory on the way,
Between the tropics, to arrest thy sight,
Than thou shalt see to-day :

We woo thee stay ;
And see what can be seen,
The bounty of a king, and beauty of his queen.

See the procession ! what a holy day,

Bearing the promise of some better fate,
Hath filled, with caroches, all the way,
From Greenwich hither toRowhamptongate !
When look'd the year, at best,

So like a feast ;
Or were affairs in tune,

By all the spheres consent, so in the heart of
June?

What beauty of beauties, and bright youths at

charge

Of summers liveries, and gladding green,
Do boast their loves and braveries so at large,
As they came all to see, and to be seen !
When look'd the earth so fine,
Or so did shine,

36 UNDERWOODS.

In all her bloom and flower,
To welcome home a pair, and deck the nuptial
bower ?

It is the kindly season of the time,

The month of youth, which calls all creatures

forth

To do their offices in nature's chime,
And celebrate, perfection at the worth,
Marriage, the end of life,

That holy strife,
And the allowed war,

Through which not only we, but all our species
are.

Hark how the bells upon the waters play

Their sister-tunes from Thames his either side,
As they had learn'd new changes for the day,
And all did ring the approaches of the bride ;
The lady FRANCES drest

Above the rest
Of all the maidens fair;
In graceful ornament of garland, gems, and hair.

See how she paceth forth in virgin-white,

Like what she is, the daughter of a duke,
And sister ; darting forth a dazzling light
On all that come her simplesse to rebuke !
Her tresses trim her back,

As she did lack
Nought of a maiden queen,
With modesty so crown'd, and adoration seen.

Stay, thou wilt see what rites the virgins do,
The choicest virgin-troop of all the land !

UNDERWOODS. 37

Porting the ensigns of united two,

Both crowns and kingdoms in their either hand :
Whose majesties appear,

To make more clear
This feast, than can the day,
Although that thou, O sun, at our entreaty stay !

See how with roses, and with lilies shine,
Lilies and roses, flowers of either sex,
The bright bride's paths, embellish'd more than

thine,

With light of love this pair doth intertex !
Stay, see the virgins sow,

Where she shall go,
The emblems of their way. —
O, now thou smil'st, fair sun, and shin'st, as
thou would'st stay !

With what full hands, and in how plenteous

showers
Have they bedew'd the earth, where she doth

tread,

As if her airy steps did spring the flowers,
And all the ground were garden where she led !
See, at another door,
On the same floor,
The bridegroom meets the bride
With all the pomp of youth, and all our court
beside !

Our court, and all the grandees ! now, sun, look,
And looking with thy best inquiry, tell,

In all thy age of journals thou hast took,

Saw'st thou that pair became these rites so
well,

38 UNDERWOODS.

Save the preceding two ?

Who, in all they do,
Search, sun, and thou \vilt find
They are the exampled pair, and mirror of their

kind.

Force from the Phoenix, then, no rarity

Of sex, to rob the creature ; but from man,
The king of creatures, take his parity

With angels, muse, to speak these : nothing

can
Illustrate these, but they

Themselves to-day,
Who the whole act express;
All else, we see beside, are shadows, and go less.

It is their grace and favour that makes seen,
And wonder' d at the bounties of this day ;
All is a story of the king and queen :
And what of dignity and honour may
Be duly done to those

Whom they have chose,
And set the mark upon,
To give a greater name and title to ! their own !

1 Save the preceding two9 &c.] The king and queen. In
Love's Welcome at Bolsover, Jouson compliments this illus-
trious pair on the strictness and purity of their union ; if that
can be called compliment which is merely truth. In all his do-
mestic relations, Charles I. stood unparallelled ; he wa* an in-
dulgent master, a faithful and affectionate husband, and a tender
parent.

Thii must have been a very splendid ceremony. Both the
king and the favourite were to be gratified by assisting aHt,
and it is probable that few of the young nobility were absent.
Charles himself acted as father to the bride, and gave her away.

UNDERWOODS. 39

WESTON, their treasure, as their treasurer,

That mine of wisdom, and of counsels deep,
Great say-master of state, who cannot err,
But doth his caract, and just standard keep,
In all the prov'd assays,

And legal ways
Of trials, to work down

Men's loves unto the laws, and laws to love the
crown.

And this well mov'd the judgment of the king

To pay with honours to his noble son
To-day, the father's service ; who could bring
Him up, to do the same himself had done :
That far all-seeing eye

Could soon espy
What kind of waking man
He had so highly set; and in what Barbican.8

Stand there ; for when a noble nature's rais'd,

It brings friends joy, foes grief, posterity fame;
In him the times, no less than prince, are prais'd,
And by his rise, in active men, his name
Doth emulation stir;
To the dull a spur

* He had so highly set^ and in what Barbican.] An old word
for a beacon, fortress, or watch-tower :

u Within the Barbican a porter sate,
Day and night, duly keeping watch and ward."

Fairy Queen, b. 2. cant. 9. WHAL.

One of the streets of London takes its name from an edifice
of that kind, anciently standing there. Stow thus describes it.
"On the north-west side of this city, near unto Red- cross
street, there was a tower commonly called Barbican, or Burh<*
kenning^ for that the same being placed on a high ground, and
also being builded of some good height, was in old time used as
a watch-tower for the city." Ed. 4to. 1603, p. 70.

40 UNDERWOODS.

It is, to the envious meant
A mere upbraiding grief, and torturing punish-
ment.

See now the chapel opens, where the king

And bishop stay to consummate the rites;
The holy prelate prays, then takes the ring,
Asks first, who gives her ? — I, CHARLES — then

he plights

One in the other's hand,
Whilst they both stand
Hearing their charge, and then
The solemn choir cries, Joy ! and they return,
Amen I

O happy bands ! and thou more happy place,

Which to this use wert built and consecrate !
To have thy God to bless, thy king to grace,
And this their chosen bishop celebrate,
And knit the nuptial knot,

Which time shall not,
Or canker'd jealousy,
With all corroding arts, be able to untie !

The chapel empties, and thou mayst be gone
Now, sun, and post away the rest of day :
These two, now holy church hath made them one,
Do long to make themselves so' another way :
There is a feast behind,

To them of kind,
Which their glad parents taught
One to the other, long ere these to light were
brought.

Haste, haste, officious sun, and send them night
Some hours before it should, that jhese may
know

UNDERWOODS. 41

All that their fathers and their mothers might
Of nuptial sweets, at such a season, owe,
To propagate their names,

And keep their fames
Alive, which else would die ;
For fame keeps virtue up, and it posterity.

The ignoble never lived, they were awhile

Like swine, or other cattle here on earth :
Their names are not recorded on the file

Of life, that fall so ; Christians know their birth
Alone, and such a race,
We pray may grace,
Your fruitful spreading vine,
But dare not ask our wish in language Fescennine.

Yet, as we may, we will, — with chaste desires,

The holy perfumes of the marriage-bed,
Be kept alive, those sweet and sacred fires
Of love between you and your lovely-head !
That when you both are old,

You find no cold
There ; but renewed, say,

After the last child born, This is our wedding-
day.

Till you behold a race to fill your hall,

A Richard, and a Hierome, by their names
Upon a Thomas, or a Francis call ;

A Kate, a Frank, to honour their grand -dames,
And 'tween their grandsires' thighs,

Like pretty spies,
Peep forth a gem ; to see

How each one plays his part, of the large pe-
digree !

42 UNDERWOODS.

And never may there want one of the stem,

To be a watchful servant for this state ;
But like an arm of eminence 'mongst them,
Extend a reaching virtue early and late !
Whilst the main tree still found

Upright and sound,
By this sun's noonsted's made
So great; his body now alone projects the shade.

They both are slipp'd to bed ; shut fast the door,

And let him freely gather love's first-fruits.
He's master of the office ; yet no more

Exacts than she is pleased to pay : no suits,
Strifes, murmurs, or delay,

Will last till day ;
Night and the sheets will show
The longing couple all that elder lovers know.

UNDERWOODS. 43

XCIII.

THE HUMBLE PETITION OF POOR BEN ;

TO THE BEST OF MONARCHS, MASTERS, MEN,

KING CHARLES.

Doth most humbly show it,

To your majesty, your poet :

That whereas your royal father,
JAMES the blessed, pleas'd the rather,
Of his special grace to letters,
To make all the Muses debtors
To his bounty ; by extension
Of a free poetic pension,
A large hundred marks annuity,
To be given me in gratuity
For done service, and to come :

And that this so accepted sum,
Or dispens'd in books or bread,
(For with both the muse was fed)
Hath drawn on me from the times,
All the envy of the rhymes,
And the ratling pit-pat noise
Of the less poetic boys,
When their pot-guns aim to hit,
With their pellets of small wit,
Parts of me they judg'd decay'd ;
But we last out still unlay'd.

Please your majesty to make
Of your grace, for goodness sake,

44. UNDERWOODS.

Those your father's marks, your pounds :
Let their spite, which now abounds,
Then go on, and do its worst;
This would all their envy burst :
And so warm the poet's tongue,
You'd read a snake in his next song.

XCIV.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE LORD TREASURER OF ENGLAND.

AN EPIGRAM.

If to my mind, great lord, I had a state,*
I would present you now with curious plate
Of Noremberg or Turky ; hang your rooms,
Not with the Arras, but the Persian looms :

3 Those your father s marks, your pounds.] The petition suc-
ceeded; the reader has, annexed to our poet's life, a copy of
the warrant creating him poet laureat, with a salary of £ 100.
per annum. WHAL.

The warrant is dated March 1630, the Petition must therefore
be referred to the beginning of that year.

* If to my mind, great Lord, I had a state.] The learned reader
may compare this with the 8th ode of the fourth book of Ho-
race, as it seems to be copied from it. Our poet, as we find by
iome verses wrote by no well- wisher to him, received forty
pounds for this Epigram. Let the reader judge which was
greatest, the generosity of the treasurer, or the genius and ad-
dress of Jouson. WHAL.

Whalley has strange notions of copying. Jonson has taken a
hint from the opening of the Ode to Censorinus, and that is all.

The verses to which Whalley alludes arc in the 4to. and 12mo.
editions, 1640, in which this Epigram also appears ; in Eliot's
Poems, they are thus prefixed.

UNDERWOODS. 45

I would, if price or prayer could them get,
Send in what or Romano, Tintoret,

* To Ben Jonson, upon his verses to the earl of Portland, lord
Treasurer.

" Your verses are commended, and 'tis true,
That they were very good, I mean to you ;
For they return'd you, Ben, as I was told,
A certain sum of forty pound in gold ;
The verses then being rightly understood,
His lordship., not Ben Jonson, made them good." p. 27.

This poor simpleton, who appears to have earned a wretched
subsistence by harassing the charitable with doggrel petitions
for meat and clothes, was answered (according to his folly) by
some one in Jonson's name; for the lines, though published in
the small edition so often quoted, were not written by him.

To MY DETRACTOR.

" My verses were commended, thou dost say,

And they were very good, yet thou thinkst nay.

For thouxobjectest, as thou hast been told,

Th' envy'd return of forty pound in gold.

Fool, do not rate my rhymes ; I have found thy vice

Is to make cheap the lord, the lines, the price.

But bark thou on ; I pity thee, poor cur,

That thou shouldst lose thy noise, thy foam, thy stur,

To be known what thou art, thou blatant beast:

But writing against me, thou thinkst at least

I now would write on thee ; no, wretch, thy name

Cannot work out unto it such a fame :

No man will tarry by thee, as he goes,

To ask thy name, if he have half a nose,

But flee thee like the pest Walk not the street

Out in the dog-days, lest the killer meet

Thy noddle with his club, and dashing forth

Thy dirty brains, men see thy want of worth." p. 119.

The question proposed by Whalley for the exercise of the
reader's judgment seems very unnecessary. Forty pounds was
a rery considerable present in those days, and whether bestowed
on want or worth, or both, argues a liberal and a noble spirit.
The u Epigram" was probably written in 1632.

46 UNDERWOODS.

Titian, or Raphael, Michael Angelo,

Have left in fame to equal, or out-go

The old Greek hands in picture, or in stone.

This I would do, could I think WESTON one
Catch'd with these arts, wherein the judge is wise
As far as sense, and only by the eyes.
But you, I know, my lord, and know you can
Discern between a statue and a man ;
Can do the things that statues do deserve,
And act the business which they paint or carve.
What you have studied, are the arts of life;
To compose men and manners ; stint the strife
Of murmuring subjects ; make the nations know
What worlds of blessings to good kings they

owe :

And mightiest monarchs feel what large increase
Of sweets and safeties they possess by peace.
These I look up at with a reverent eye,
And strike religion in the standers-by ;
Which, though I cannot, as an architect,
In glorious piles or pyramids erect
Unto your honour ; I can tune in song
Aloud ; and, haply, it may last as long.

xcv.

AN EPIGRAM

TO MY MUSE, THE LADY DlGBY,
ON HER HUSBAND, SIR KENELM DlGBY.

Though, happy Muse, thou know my DIGBY well,
Yet read him in these lines : He doth excel
In honour, courtesy, and all the parts
Court can call hers, or man could call his arts.

UNDERWOODS. 47

He's prudent, valiant, just and temperate :
In him all virtue is beheld in state ;
And he is built like some imperial room
For that to dwell in, and be still at home.
His breast is a brave palace, a broad street,
Where all heroic ample thoughts do meet:
Where nature such a large survey hath ta'en,
As other souls, to his, dwelt in a lane :
Witness his action done at Scanderoon,
Upon his birth-day, the eleventh of June;*

* Witness his action done at Scanderoon,

Upon his birth-day, the eleventh of June.] This refers to an
action in the bay of Scanderoon in 1628, wherein he beat
certain Tessels belonging to the states of Venice. "This onset was
made/' says Antony Wood, " as 'tis reported on the eleventh of
June, (his birth day as Ben Jonson will have it,) yet a pamphlet
that was published the same year, giving an account of all the
transactions of that fight, tells us, it was on the 16th of the same
month; which if true, ihen the fortune of that day is again
marred." To all which we must answer, that this same pamphlet
or letter, which gives the relation of this action, was dated
indeed on the iGth of June, but it expressly says that the action
happened on the 1 1th of the same month ; and this is confirmed
likewise by Mr. Ferrar's Epitaph on the death of sir Kenelnt
Digby, which makes the II th of June memorable for his birth,
day, the day of his victory, and the day of his death. The epi-
taph is as follows :

" Under this stone the matchless Digby lies,
Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise :
This age's wonder for his noble parts,
Skill'd in six tongues, and learn'd in all the arts :
Born on the day he died, th' eleventh of June ,
On which he bravely fought at Scanderoon ;
'Tis rare that one and self-same day should be
His day of birth, of death, and victory."

It is remarkable that Antony Wood refers us to this epitaph,
and quotes two verses from it, and yet disputes the authority
of our poet for the time of his birth. WHAL.

Wood was probably influenced by Aubrey, who observes on

48 UNDERWOODS.

When the apostle Barnaby the bright
Unto our year doth give the longest light,
In sign the subject, and the song will live,
Which I have vow'd posterity to give.
Go, Muse, in, and salute him. Say he be
Busy, or frown at first, when he sees thee,
He will clear up his forehead ; think thou bring'st
Good omen to him in the note thou sing'st :
For he doth love my verses, and will look
Upon them, next to Spenser's noble book,6
And praise them too. O what a fame 'twill be,
What reputation to my lines and me,
When he shall read them at the Treasurer's board,
The knowing Weston, and that learned lord
Allows them ! then, what copies shall be had,
What transcripts begg'd ! how cried up, and
how glad

the couplet quoted by Whalley, " Mr. Elias Ashmole assures
me from two or three nativities by Dr. Napier, that Ben Jonson
was mistaken, and did it for the rhyme sake." We have here
a couple of dreamers—but they are not worth an argument : it
is more to the purpose to observe from the latter, that u sir
Kenelm Digby was held to be the most accomplished cavalier of
his time, the Mirandola of his age, that he understood ten or
twelve languages, and was well versed in all kinds of learning,
very generous and liberal to deserving persons, and a great
patron to Ben Jonson, who has some excellent verses on him,"
&c. Letters by Eminent Persons, vol. ii. p. 326.

Sir Kenelm Digby was one of our poet's adopted sons : he
is now more remembered for his chemical reveries, his sympa-
thetic powder, &c. than for his talents, and accomplishments.
He was, however, an eminent man, and a benefactor to the
literature of his country. He died in 1665.

9 For he doth love my verses, and will look

Upon them, next to Spenser's noble book."] Sir Kenelm* had a
great affection for the Fairy Queen, and wrote a commentary on
a single stanza of that poem. It is called, Observations on the
ttd stanza in the 9th canto of the Id book of Spenser's Fairy Queen,
Lond. 1644. Octavo. WHAL.

UNDERWOODS. 49

Wilt thou be, Muse, when this shall them befall !
Being sent to one, they will be read of alL

CVI.

A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT,

SUNG TO KING CHARGES,
MDCXXXV.

Prelude.

New years expect new gifts : sister, your harp,

Lute, lyre, theorbo, all are call'd to-day ;
Your change of notes, the flat, the mean, the
sharp,

To shew the rites, and usher forth the way
Of the new year, in a new silken warp,

To fit the softness of your year's-gift ; when.

We sing the best of monarchs, masters, men ;
For had we here said less, we had sung nothing
then.

Chorus of NYMPHS and SHEPHERDS.

Rector Cho. To-day old Janus opens the new year,
And shuts the old : Haste, haste, all loyal
swains,

That know the times and seasons when t' appear,
And offer your just service on these plains ;

Best kings expect first fruits of your glad gains.

1 Skep. Pan is the great preserver of our bounds.

2 Shep. To him we owe all profits of our grounds,
VOL. ix. E

50 UNDERWOODS.

3 Shep. Our milk.

4 Shep. Our fells.

5 Shep. Our fleeces.

6 Shep. And first lambs.

7 Shep. Our teeming ewes.

8 Shep. And lusty mounting rams.

9 Shep. See where he walks, with Mira by his side.
Cho. Sound, sound his praises loud, and with his

hersvdivide.

Of PAN we sing, the best of hunters, Pan,

That drives the hart to seek unused ways,

Shep. And in the chase, more than Sylvanus can ;

Cho. Hear, O ye groves, and, hills, resound

his praise.

Of brightest MIRA do we raise our song,
Sister of Pan, and glory of the spring ;
Nym. Who walks on earth, as May still went along.
Cho. Rivers and valleys, echo what we sing.

Of Pan we sing, the chief of leaders, Pan,
Cho. of Shep. That leads our flocks and us, and

calls both forth

To better pastures than great Pales can :
Hear, O ye groves, and, hills, resound his
worth.

Of brightest Mira is our song ; the grace
Cho. of Nym. Of all that nature yet to life did

bring;
And were she lost, could best supply her

place :
Rivers and valleys, echo what we sing.

1 Shep. Where'erthey tread theenamour'd ground,

The fairest flowers are always found :

2 Shep. As if the beauties of the year

Still waited on them where they were.

UNDERWOODS. 51

1 Shep. He is the father of our peace ;

Q Shep. She to the crown hath brought increase.

1 Shep. We know no other power than his ;

Pan only our great shepherd is,
Cho. Our great, our good. Where one's so
drest

In truth of colours, both are best.

Rect. Cho. Haste, haste you hither, all you gen-
tler swains,

That have a flock or herd upon these plains :
This is the great preserver of our bounds,
To whom you owe all duties of your grounds ;
Your milks, yourfells, yourfleeces, and firstlambs,
Your teeming ewes, as well as mounting rams.
Whose praises let's report unto the woods,
That they may take it echo'd by the floods.
Cho. 'Tis he, 'tis he ; in singing he,

And hunting, Pan, exceedeth thee: .

He gives all plenty and increase,

He is the author of our peace.

Rect. Cho. Where-e'er he goes, upon the ground
The better grass and flowers are found.
To sweeter pastures lead he can,
Than ever Pales could, or Pan :
He drives diseases from our folds,
The thief from spoil his presence holds :
Pan knows no other power than his,
This only the great shepherd is.

Cho. 'Tis he, 'tis he; &c/

7 In the old copy, several love verses are ridiculously tacked
to this chorus : they have already appeared, and the circum-
stance is only noted here, to mark the carelessness or ignorance
of those who had the ransacking of the poet' s study, after his
death.

52 UNDERWOODS.

CVIL
ON THE KING'S BIRTH-DAY.»

Rouse up thyself, my gentle Muse,

Though now our green conceits be gray,
And yet once more do not refuse
To take thy Phrygian harp, and play
In honour of this cheerful day :

Long may they both contend to prove,
That best of crowns is such a love.

Make first a song of joy and love,
Which chastly flames in royal eyes,

Then tune it to the spheres above,
When the benignest stars do rise,
And sweet conjunctions grace the skies.
Long may, &c.

To this let all good hearts resound,

Whilst diadems invest his head ;
Long may he live, whose life doth bound

More than his laws, and better led

By high example, than by dread.
Long may, &c.

Long may he round about him see

His roses and his lilies blown:
Long may his only dear and he
Joy in ideas of their own,
And kingdom's hopes so timely sown.
Long may they both contend to prove,"
That best of crowns is such a love.

8 This is probably Ben's last tribute of duty to his royal
master : it is not his worst ; it was, perhaps, better as it came
from the poet, for a stanza has apparently been lost, or con-
founded with the opening one.

UNDERWOODS. 53

CVIII.

To MY LORD THE KlNG,

ON THE CHRISTENING
HIS SECOND SON JAMES.*

That thou art lov'd of God, this work is done,
Great king, thy having of a second son :
And by thy blessing may thy people see
How much they are belov'd of God in thee.
Would they would understand it ! princes are
Great aids to empire, as they are great care
To pious parents, who would have their blood
Should take first seisin of the public good,
As hath thy James ; cleans'd from original dross,
This day, by baptism, and his Saviour's cross.
Grow up, sweet babe, as blessed in thy name,
As in reriewing thy good grandsire's fame :
Methought Great Britain in her sea, before
Sate safe enough, but now secured more.
At land she triumphs in the triple shade,
Her rose and lily inter-twined, have made.

Oceano secura meoy securior umbris.

9 James II. was born October 15, 1633, and the ceremony,
here mentioned, took place in the succeeding month. In the
Diary of Laud's Life, (fol. 1695, p. 49.) is the following memo-
randum by the Archbishop. " November 24, 1633. Sunday in
the afternoon, I christened king Charles his second son, James
duke of York, at St. James's."

UNDERWOODS.

CVIII.
AN ELEGY.

ON THE LADY JANE PAWLET,
MARCHIONESS OF WlNTON.*

What gentle ghost, besprent with April de\v,

Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew,2

And beckoning woos me, from the fatal tree

To pluck a garland for herself or me ?

I do obey you, beauty ! for in death

You seem a fair one. O that you had breath

To give your shade a name ! Stay, stay, I feel

A horror in me, all my blood is steel ;

1 An Elegy on the lady Jane Pawkt, &c.] The folio reads lady
Anne, though Jane; the true name, occurs, as Whalley observes,
just below. This wretched copy is so full of errors, that the
reader's attention would be too severely proved, if called to
notice the tithe of them ; in general, they hare been corrected
in silence.

This lady Jane was the first wife of that brave and loyal
nobleman, John, fifth marquis of Winchester. He was one of
the greatest sufferers by the Usurpation ; but he lived to see
the restoration of the royal family, and died full of years and
honour in 1674. The marchioness died in 1631, which is there-
fore the date of the Elegy.

* What gentle ghost besprent with April deto^

Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew ?~\ Pope seems to have
imitated the first lines of this elegy, in his poem to the Mtmory
of an unfortunate Lady :

" What beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade,
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ?" WHAL.

Pope's imitation, however, falls far short of the picturesque and
awful solemnity of the original.

UNDERWOODS. ,55

Stiff, stark! my joints 'gainst one another knock !
Whose daughter? — Ha! great Savage of the

Rock.3

He's good as great. I am almost a stone,
And ere I can ask more of her, she's gone ! —
Alas, I am all marble I write the rest
Thou would'st have written, Fame, upon my

breast :

It is a large fair table, and a true,
And the disposure will be something new,
When I, who would the poet have become,
At least may. bear the inscription to her tomb.
She was the lady JANE, and marchionisse
Of Winchester : the heralds can tell this.
Earl Rivers' grand-child — 'serve not forms, good

Fame,

Sound thou her virtues, give her soul a name.
Had I a thousand mouths, as many tongues,
And voice to raise them from my brazen lungs,
I durst not aim at that ; the dotes were such
Thereof, no notion can express how much
Their caract was : I or my trump must break,
But rather I, should I of that part speak ;
It is too near of kin to heaven, the soul,
To be described ! Fame's fingers are too foul
To touch these mysteries : we may admire
The heat and splendor, but not handle fire.
What she did here, by great example, well,
T inlive posterity, her Fame may tell ;
And calling Truth to witness, make that good
From the inherent graces in her blood !

3 Great Savage of the Rock.] The seat of that family in
Cheshire, from which the lady was descended. Camden gives
us the following account of it: u The Werer flows between
Frodsham, a castle of ancient note, and Clifton, at present
called Rock Savage, a new house of the Savages, who by mar-
riage have got a great estate here." Brit. p. 563. WIIAL.

56 UNDERWOODS.

Else who doth praise a person by a new

But a feign'd way, doth rob it of the true.

Her sweetness, softness, her fair courtesy,

Her wary guards, her wise simplicity,

Were like a ring of Virtues 'bout her set,

And Piety the centre where all met.

A reverend state she had, an awful eye,

A dazzling, yet inviting, majesty:

What Nature, Fortune, Institution, Fact

Could sum to a perfection, was her act !

How did she leave the world, with what contempt!

Just as she in it lived, and so exempt

From all affection ! when they urg'd the cure

Of her disease, how did her soul assure

Her sufferings, as the body had been away !

And to the torturers, her doctors, say,

Stick on your cupping-glasses, fear not, put

Your hottest caustics to, burn, lance, or cut :

'Tis but a body which you can torment,

And I into the world all soul was sent.

Then comforted her lord, and blest her son,4

Cheer'd her fair sisters in her race to run,

4 Then comforted her lord^ and blest her son^ &c.] Warton
calls this a" pathetic Elegy/' and indeed this passage has both
pathos and beauty. It is a little singular that Jonson makes no
allusion to her dying in childbed, which, it would appear from
Milton's Epitaph, she actually did. He speaks of a disease : she
was delivered of a dead child ; and some surgical operation
appears to have been performed, or attempted, without success.
There can be no doubt of Jonson's accuracy ; for he was
living on terms of respectful friendship with the marquis of
Winchester.

Jonson principally dwells on the piety of this lady? she
seems also to have been a person of rare endowments and ac-
complishments. Howell (p. 182.) puts her in mind that he taught
her Spanish, and sends her a sonnet which he had translated
into that language from one in English by her ladyship, with
the music, &c. and Cartwright returns her thanks, in warm
language, " for two most beautiful pieces,, wrought by herself

UNDERWOODS. 57

With gladness tempered her sad parents tears,
Made her friends joys to get above their fears,
And in her last act taught the standers by
With admiration and applause to die !

Let angels sing her glories, who did call
Her spirit home to her original ;
Who saw the way was made it, and were sent
To carry and conduct the compliment
'Twixt death and life, where her mortality
Became her birth-day to eternity !
And now through circumfused light she looks,
On Nature's secret there, as her own books:
Speaks heaven's language, and discourseth free
To every order, every hierarchy !
Beholds her Maker, and in him doth see
What the beginnings of all beauties be;
And all beatitudes that thence do flow :
Which they that have the crown aresure to knowl

Go now, her happy parents, and be sad,
If you not understand what child you had.
If you dare grudge at heaven, and repent
T' have paid again a blessing was but lent,
And trusted so, as it deposited lay
At pleasure, to be call'd for every day!
If you can envy your own daughter's bliss,
And wish her state less happy than it is ;

in needle-work, and presented to the Unirersity of Oxford, the
one being the story of the Nativity, the other of the Passion of
our Saviour."

" Blest mother of the church, he, in the list,
Reckoned from hence the she-Evangelist ;
Nor can the style be profanation, when
The needle may convert more than the pen ;
When faith may come by seeing, and each leaf,
Rightly perus'd, prove gospel to the deaf," &c.

Poems, p, 1 96.

58 UNDERWOODS.

If you can cast about your either eye,
And see all dead here, or about to die !
The stars, that are the jewels of the night,
And day, deceasing, with the prince of light,
The sun, great kings, and mightiest kingdoms

fall ;
Whole nations, nay, mankind ! the world, with

all

That ever had beginning there, t' have end !
With what injustice should one soul pretend
T' escape this common known necessity ?
When we were all born, we began to die ;
And, but for that contention, and brave strife
The Christian hath t' enjoy the future life,5

5 Sir John Beaumont has also an elegy on the death of this
lady, beginning with these lines :

" Can ray poor lines no better office have,
But lie like scritch-owls still about the grave ?
When shall I take some pleasure for my pain,
Commending them that can commend again ?" WHAL.

It may also be added that Eliot has an " Elegy on the lady
Jane Paulet, marchioness of Winchester," &c. in which he
follows Milton, as to the immediate cause of her death. Though
the poem, which is very long, is in John's best manner, I
should not have mentioned it, had it not afforded me an oppor-
tunity of explaining a passage in Shakspeare which has sorely
puzzled the commentators :

" Either (says the gallant Henry V.)

Either our history shall, with full mouth,
Speak freely of our acts, or else, our grave,
Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth,
Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph." A. I. S. 2.

Steevens says that the allusion is " to the ancient custom of
writing on waxen tablets," and Malone proves, at the expense
of two pages that his friend has mistaken the poet's meaning,
and that he himself is — just as wide of it.

In many parts of the continent, it is customary, upon the
decease of an eminent person, for his friends to compose short
laudatory poems, epitaphs, &c. and affix them to the herse, or

UNDERWOODS. 59

He were the wretched'st of the race of men :
But as he soars at that, he bruiseth then
The serpent's head ; gets above death and sin,
And, sure of heaven, rides triumphing in.

grave, with pins, wax, paste, &c. Of this practice, which
was once prevalent here also, I had collected many notices,
which, when the circumstance was recalled to my mind by
Eliot's verses, I tried in vain to recover : the fact, however, is
certain.

In the bishop of Chichester's verses to the memory of Dr.
Donne, is this couplet :

" Each quill can drop his tributary verse,
And pin it, like a hatchment, to his herse."

Eliot's lines are these :

" Let others, then, sad Epitaphs invent,
And paste them up about thy monument;
While my poor muse contents itself, that she
Vents sighs, not words, unto thy memory."

Poems , p. 39.

It is very probable that the beautiful Epitaph on the countess
of Pembroke, was attached, with many others, to her herse.
We know that she had no monument; and the verses seem to
intimate that they were so applied :

'* Underneath this sable herse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister," &c.

To this practice Shakspeare alludes, He had, at first, written
paper epitaph, which he judiciously changed to waxen, as less
ambiguous, and altogether as familiar to his audience. Henry's
meaning therefore is ; sc I will either have my full history re-
corded with glory, or lie in an undistinguished grave :— not
merely without an inscription sculptured in stone, but unwor-
shipped, (unhonoured,) even by a waxen epitaph, i. e. by the
short-lived compliment of a paper fastened on it.

E U P H E M E.

OR THE

FAIR FAME

LEFT TO POSTERITY OF THAT TRULY NOBLE LADY,

THE LADY VENETIA DIGBY,

LATE WIFE OF SIR KENELME DlGBY, KNT.,
A GENTLEMAN ABSOLUTE IN ALL NUMBERS.

CONSISTING OF THESE TEN PIECES :

The dedication of her CRADLE,
The Song of her DESCENT,
The Picture of her BODY,

— her MIND,

Her being chosen a MUSE,
Her fair OFFICES,

Her happy MATCH,
Her hopeful ISSUE,
Her Ano0Efl2iS, or, Relation

to the SAINTS,
Her Inscription, or CROWN-

ING.

Vwam amare Voluptas, defunctam Religio. Stat

UNDERWOODS. 63

CIX.
E U P H E M E:

OR THE

FAIR FAME.

LEFT TO POSTERITY OF THAT TRULY NOBLE LADY,

THE LADY VENETIA DIGBY, &c.*

I.
THE DEDICATION OF HER CRADLE.

Fair Fame, who art ordain'd to crown
With ever-green and great renown,
Their heads that Envy would hold down

With her, in shade

1 The lady Venetia Digby, &c.] This celebrated lady, Venetfa
Anastatia Stanley, was the daughter of sir Edward Stanley of
Tongue Castle, Shropshire. Her story, which is somewhat re-
markable, is given at length by Aubrey and Antony Wood,
from whom I have taken what follows. <£ She was a most
beautiful creature ; and being matura viro, was placed by her
father at Enston-abbey ; (a seat of her grandfather's ;) but as
prirate as that place was, it seems her beauty could not lie hid:
the young eagles had spied her, and she was sanguine and
tractable, and of much suavity, which to abuse was great pity."

" In those days, Richard earl of Dorset lived in the greatest
splendor of any nobleman of England. Among other pleasures
that he enjoyed, Venus was not the least. This pretty creature's
fame quickly came to his ears, who made no delay to catch at
such an opportunity. I have forgot who first brought her to

64 UNDERWOODS.

Of death and darkness; and deprive
Their names of being kept alive,
By Thee and Conscience, both who thrive

By the just trade

town :— but the earl of Dorset aforesaid was her greatest
gallant ; he was extremely enamoured of her, and had one, if
not more children by her. He settled on her an annuity of
.£500. per annum. Among other young sparks of that time, sir
Kenelm Digby grew acquainted with her, and fell so much in
lore with her that he married her.

" She had amostlovely sweet-turned face, delicate dark brown
hair : she had a perfect healthy constitution, good skin ; well-
proportioned ; inclining to a bona-roba.* Her face a short oval,
dark browne eye-brow, about which much sweetness, as also
in the opening of her eye-lids. The colour of her cheeks was
just that of the damask rose, which is neither too hot nor too
pale. See Ben Jonson's 2d volume, where he hath made her
live in poetry, in his drawing both of her body and her mind."
Letters, &c. vol. ii. p. 332.

What truth there may be in these aspersions, I know not :
that they had some foundation can scarcely be doubted. But
whatever was the conduct of this u beautiful creature" before
her marriage with sir Kenelm, it was most exemplary after-
wards ; and she died universally beloved and lamented.

The amiable and virtuous Habington has a poem on her death
addressed to Castara ;

" Weep not, Castara," &c.

this speaks volumes in her praise, for Habington would not
have written, nor would his Castara have wept, for an ordinary
character. Randolph and Feltham have each an Elegy upon her,
as ha§ Rutter, the author of the Shepherds' Holiday. In Ran.
dolph's poem, I was struck with four lines of peculiar elegance,
which I give from recollection :

" Bring all the spices that Arabia yields,

Distil the choicest flowers that paint the fields ; M
And when in one their best perfections meet,
Embalm her corse, that she may make them sweet."

Lady Digby was found dead in her bed, with her cheek
resting on her hand : to this Habington alludes—

* Poor Aubrey appears to think bona-roba synonymous with
enbonpoinf.

UNDERWOODS. 65

Of goodness still: vouchsafe to take
This cradle, and for goodness sake,
A dedicated ensign make

Thereof to Time ;
That all posterity, as we,
Who read what the Crepundia be,
May something by that twilight see

'Bove rattling rhyme.

For though that rattles, timbrels, toys,
Take little infants with their noise,
As properest gifts to girls and boys,

Of light expense ;

Their corals, whistles, and prime coats,
Their painted masks, their paper boats,
With sails of silk, as the first notes

Surprise their sense.

•" She past away

So sweetly from the world, as if her clay
Laid only down to slumber."

a Some (says Aubrey) suspected that she was poisoned. When
her head was opened, there was found but little brain, which
her husband imputed to her drinking of viper-wine ; but spite-
ful women would say 'twas a viper-husband, who was jealous of
her/' This fact of the little brain is thus alluded to by Owen
Feltham :

" Yet there are those, striving to salve their own
Deep want of skill, have in a fury thrown
Scandal on her, and say she wanted brain.
Botchers of nature ! your eternal stain
This judgment is," &c.

With respect to the insinuation noticed by Aubrey, it is
probably a mere calumny. Sir Kenelm was distractedly fond of
his lady, and, as he was a great dabbler in chemistry, is said to
have attempted to exalt and perpetuate her beauty by various
extracts, cosmetics, &c. to some of which, Pennant suggests,
she might probably fall a victim : the better opinion, however,
was that she died in a fit. Her death took place in 1633, when
she was just turned of 32. She left three sons.

VOL. IX. F

66 UNDERWOODS.

Yet here are no such trifles brought,
No cobweb cawls, no surcoats wrought
With gold, or clasps, which might be bought

On every stall :

But here's a song of her descent;
And call to the high parliament
Of Heaven ; where Seraphim take tent

Of ordering all :

This utter' d by an ancient bard,
Who claims, of reverence, to be heard,
As coming \vith his harp prepar'd

To chant her 'gree,
Is sung : as als' her getting up,
By Jacob's ladder, to the top
Of that eternal port, kept ope

For such as she.

II.
THE SONG OF HER DESCENT,

I sing the just and uncontroll'd descent

Of dame VENETIA DIGBY, styled the fair:
For mind and body the most excellent

That ever nature, or the later air,
Gave two such houses as Northumberland

And Stanley, to the which she was co-heir.
Speak it, you bold Penates, you that stand

At either stem, and know the veins of good
Run from your roots ; tell, testify the grand

Meeting of Graces, that so sweli'd the flood
Of Virtues in her, as, in short, she grew

The wonder of her sex, and of your blood.
And tell thou, Alde-legh, none can tell more true

Thy niece's line, than thou that gav'st thy
name

UNDERWOODS. 67

Into the kindred, whence thy Adam drew
Meschines honour, with the Cestrian fame

Of the first Lupus, to the family
By Ranulph —

The rest of this song is lost.

III.
THE PICTURE OF THE BODY.

Sitting, and ready to be drawn,

What make these velvets, silks, and lawn,
Embroideries, feathers, fringes, lace,
Where every limb takes like a face?

Send these suspected helps to aid
Some form defective, or decay'd ;
This beauty, without falsehood fair,
Needs nought to clothe it but the air.

Yet something to the painter's view,
Were fitly interposed ; so new :
He shall, if he can understand,
Work by my fancy, with his hand.

Draw first a cloud, all save her neck,
And, out of that, make day to break ;
Till like her face it do appear,
And men may think all light rose there.

Then let the beams of that disperse
The cloud, and shew the universe ;
But at such distance, as the eye
May rather yet adore, than spy.

F2

68 UNDERWOODS.

The heaven design'd, draw next a spring,
With all that youth, or it can bring :
Four rivers branching forth like seas,
And Paradise confining these.2

Last, draw the circles of this globe,
And let there be a starry robe
Of constellations 'bout her hurl'd ;
And thou hast painted Beauty's world.

But, painter, see thou do not sell
A copy of this piece ; nor tell
Whose 'tis : but if it favour find.
Next sitting we will draw her mind.

IV.

THE PICTURE OF THE MIND.

Painter, you're come, but may be gone,
Now I have better thought thereon,
This work I can perform alone ;
And give you reasons more than one.

* Four rivers branching forth) like seas.

And Paradise confining these.] That could never be the
case : the land may be confined by the rivers, though not these
by the land. And this the sacred historian tells us was the situ-
ation of Paradise ; for confining, therefore, we must read, con-
Jind in these. WHAL.

Whalley has prayed hi« pible ill9 and the poet is a, better
scriptural geographer than the priest. The river that watered
Paradise, branched into four heads immediately upon quitting it.
Paradise therefore, was not inclosed by the four rivers ; it
merely touched them. Could my predecessor be ignorant that
the primitive sense of confine, was to border upon ?

UNDERWOODS. 69

Not that your art I do refuse ;
But here 1 may no colours use.
Beside, your hand will never hit,
To draw a thing that cannot sit.

You could make shift to paint an eye,
An eagle towering in the sky,
The sun, a sea, or soundless pit ;3
But these are like a mind, not it,

No, to express this mind to sense,
Would ask a heaven's intelligence ;
Since nothing can report that flame,
But what's of kin to whence it came.

Sweet Mind, then speak yourself, and say,
As you go on, by what brave way
Our sense you do with knowledge fill,
And yet remain our wonder still,

I call you, Muse, now make it true :
Henceforth may every line be you ;
That all may say, that see the frame,
This is no picture, but the same.

A mind so pure, so perfect fine,
As 'tis not radiant, but divine ;
And so disdaining any trier,
'Tis got where it can try the fire.

There, high exalted in the sphere,
As it another nature were,
It moveth all ; and makes a flight
As circular as infinite.

or soundless pit.] i. e. bottomless, that cannot bo

fathomed. WHAL.

70 UNDERWOODS.

Whose notions when it will express
In speech ; it is with that excess
Of grace, and music to the ear,
As what it spoke, it planted there.

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air ;
And though the sound were parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.

But that a mind so rapt, so high,
So swift, so pure, should yet apply
Itself to us, and come so nigh
Earth's grossness ; there's the how and why,

Is it because it sees us dull,

And sunk in clay here, it would pull
Us forth, by some celestial sleight,
Up to her own sublimed height ?

Or hath she here, upon the ground,
Some Paradise or palace found,
In all the bounds of Beauty, fit
For her t'inhabit ? There is it.

Thrice happy house, that hast receipt
For this so lofty form, so streight,
So polish'd, perfect, round and even,
As it slid moulded off from heaven,

Not swelling like the ocean proud,
But stooping gently, as a cloud,
As smooth as oil pour'd forth, and calm
As showers, and sweet as drops of balm,

Smooth, soft, and sweet, in all a flood,
Where it may run to any good ;

UNDERWOODS. 71

And where it stays, it there hecomes
A nest of odorous spice and gums.

In action, winged as the wind ;
In rest, like spirits left behind
Upon a bank, or field of flowers,
Begotten by the wind and showers.

In thee, fair mansion, let it rest,

Yet know, with what thou art possest,

Thou, entertaining in thy breast

But such a mind, mak'st God thy guest.4

[A whole quaternion in the midst of this poem is
lost, containing entirely the three next pieces of
it, and all of the fourth (which in the order of
the whole is the eighth ) excepting the very end:
which at the top of the next quaternion goeth on
thus.]

VIII.

(A FRAGMENT.)

— But for you, growing gentlemen, the happy
branches of two so illustrious houses as these,
wherefrom your honoured mother is in both
lines descended ; let me leave you this last le-
gacy of counsel ; which, so soon as you arrive
at years of mature understanding, open you, sir,
that are the eldest, and read it to your brethren,
for it will concern you all alike. Vowed by a

4 This little piece is highly poetical. Some of the stanzas are
exquisitely beautiful, and indeed the whole may be said to be
vigorously conceived, and happily expressed.

72 UNDERWOODS.

faithful servant and client of your family, with
his latest breath expiring it.

BEN JONSON.

To KENELM, JOHN, GEORGE.*

Boast not these titles of your ancestors,

Brave youths, they're their possessions, none

of yours :

When your own virtues equall'd have their names,
'Twill be but fair^to lean upon their fames ;
For they are strong supporters : but, till then,
The greatest are but growing gentlemen.
It is a wretched thing to trust to reeds ;
Which all men do, that urge not their own deeds
Up to their ancestors ; the river's side
By which you're planted shews your fruit shall

bide.

Hang all your rooms with one large pedigree ;
'Tis virtue alone is true nobility :
Which virtue from your father, ripe, will fall ;
Study illustrious him, and you have all.

5 Of these three sons, George probably died young. Kenelm,
the eldest, a young man of great abilities and virtues, nobly
redeemed the error of his grandfather, and took up arms for
his sovereign. He was slain at the battle of St. Neot's in Hun-
tingdonshire, July 7, 1648 ; and John is said to have succeeded
to the family estate, after removing some legal bar interposed,
in a moment of displeasure, by his father.

The lines which follow bear a running allusion to the eighth
satire of Juvenal; they are evidently a mere fragment.

UNDERWOODS 73

IX.

ELEGY ON MY MUSE,
THE TRULY HONOURED LADY,

THE LADY VENETIA DlGBY ;

WHO LIVING, GAVE ME LEAVE TO CALL HER SO.
BEING

HER AnO0EXlSI£, OR,

RELATION TO THE SAINTS.

Sera quidem tanto strmtur medicina dolore.

'Twere time that I dy'd too, now she is dead,
Who was my Muse, and life of all I said ;
The spirit that I wrote with, and conceiv'd :
All that was good, or great with me, she weav'd,
And set it forth ; the rest were cobwehs fine,
Spun out in-name of some of the old Nine,
To hang a window, or make dark the room,
Till swept away, they were cancell'd with a broom!
Nothing that could remain, or yet can stir
A sorrow in me, fit to wait to her !
O ! had I seen her laid out a fair corse,
By death, on earth, I should have had remorse
On Nature for her ; who did let her lie,
And saw that portion of herself to die.
Sleepy or stupid Nature, couldst thou part
With such a rarity, and not rouze Art,
With all her aids, to save her from the seize
Of vulture Death, and those relentless cleis ?*

to save her from the seize

Of vulture Death, and those relentless cleis.] The last word

74 UNDERWOODS;

Thou wouldst have lost the Phoenix, had the kind

Been trusted to thee ; not to itself assign'd.

Look on thy sloth, and give thyself undone,

(For so thou art with me) now she is gone:

My wounded mind cannot sustain this stroke,

It rages, runs, flies, stands, and would provoke

The world to ruin with it ; in her fall,

I sum up mine own hreaking, and wish all.

Thou hast no more blows, Fate, to drive atone ;

What's left a poet, when his Muse is gone ?

Sure I am dead, and know it not ! I feel

Nothing I do ; but like a heavy wheel,

Am turned with another's powers : my passion

Whirls me about, and, to blaspheme in fashion,

I murmur against God, for having ta'en

Her blessed soul hence, forth this valley vain

Of tears, and dungeon of calamity !

I envy it the angels amity,

The joy of saints, the crown for which it lives,

The glory and gain of rest, which the place gives !

Dare I profane so irreligious be,
To greet or grieve her soft euthanasy !
So sweetly taken to the court of bliss,
As spirits had stolen her spirit in a kiss,
From off her pillow and deluded bed ;
And left her lovely body unthought dead !
Indeed she is not dead ! but laid to sleep
In earth, till the last trump awake the sheep
And goats together, whither they must come
To hear their judge, and his eternal doom ;

A

is uncommon : is it a different pronunciation of the word claws.,
adopted by the poet, for the sake of rhyme ? or is it a real cor-
ruption of some other word ? WHAL.

Cleis is common enough in our old poets : it is a genuine term,
and though now confounded with claws, was probably re-
stricted at first to some specific class of animals.

UNDERWOODS. 75

To have that final retribution,

Expected with the flesh's restitution.

For, as there are three natures, schoolmen call

One corporal only, th' other spiritual,

Like single ; so there is a third commixt,

Of body and spirit together, placed betwixt

Those other two ; which must be judged or

crowu'd :

This, as it guilty is, or guiltless found,
Must come to take a sentence, by the sense
Of that great evidence, the Conscience,
Who will be there, against that day prepared,
T' accuse or quit all parties to be heard !
O day of joy, and surety to the just,
Who in that feast of resurrection trust !
That great eternal holy day of rest
To body and soul, where love is all the guest !
And the whole banquet is full sight of God,
Of joy the circle, and sole period !
All other gladness with the thought is barr'd ;
Hope hath her end, and Faith hath her reward !
This being thus, why should my tongue or pen
Presume to interpel that fulness, when
Nothing can more adorn it than the seat
That she is in, or make it more complete ?
Better be dumb than superstitious :
Who violates the Godhead, is most vicious
Against the nature he would worship. He
Will honour'd be in all simplicity,
Have all his actions wonder'd at, and view'd
With silence and amazement; not with rude,
Dull and profane, weak and imperfect eyes,
Have busy search made in his mysteries !
He knows what work he hath done, to call

guest,
Out of her noble body to this feast :

76 UNDERWOODS.

And give her place according to her blood
Amongst her peers, those princes of all good !
Saints, Martyrs, Prophets, with those Hierarchies,
Angels, Arch-angels, Principalities,
The Dominations, Virtues, and the Powers,
The Thrones, the Cherubs, and Seraphic bowers,
That, planted round, there sing before the Lamb
A new song to his praise, and great I AM :
And she doth know, out of the shade of death,
What 'tis to enjoy an everlasting breath !
To have her captived spirit freed from flesh,
And on her innocence, a garment fresh
And white as that put on : and in her hand
With boughs of palm, a crowned victrice stand!

And mil you, worthy son, sir, knowing this,
Put black and mourning on ? and say you miss
A wife, a friend, a lady, or a love ;
Whom her Redeemer honour'd hath above8
Her fellows, with the oil of gladness, bright
In heaven's empire, and with a robe of light ?
Thither you hope to come ; and there to find
That pure, that precious, and exalted mind
You once enjoy 'd : a short space severs ye,
Compared unto that long eternity,
That shall rejoin ye. Was she, then, so dear,
When she departed? you will meet her there,
Much more desired, and dearer than before,
By all the wealth of blessings, and the store
Accumulated on her, by the Lord
Of life and light, the son of God, the Word !

There all the happy souls that ever were,
Shall meet with gladness in one theatre ;

9 Whom her Redeemer, &c.] The Apotheosis abounds in
scriptural allusions, which I have left to the reader; as Trell as
the numerous passages which Milton has adopted from it, and
which his editors have as usual overlooked3 while running after
Dante and Thomas Aquinas.

UNDERWOODS. 77

And each shall know there one another's face,

By beatific virtue of the place.

There shall the brother with the sister walk,

And sons and daughters with their parents talk ;

But all of God ; they still shall have to say,

But make him All in All, their Theme, that day ;

That happy day that never shall see night !

Where he will be all beauty to the sight;

Wine or delicious fruits unto the taste ;

A music in the ears will ever last;

Unto the scent, a spicery or balm ;

And to the touch, a flower like soft as palm.

He will all glory, all perfection be,

God in the Union, and the Trinity !

That holy, great and glorious mystery,

Will there revealed be in majesty !

By light and comfort of spiritual grace ;

The vision of our Saviour face to face

In his humanity ! to hear him preach

The price of our redemption, and to teach

Through his inherent righteousness, in death,

The safety of our souls, and forfeit breath !

What fulness of beatitude is here?
What love with mercy mixed doth appear,
To style us friends, who were by nature foes ?
Adopt us heirs by grace, who were of those
Had lost ourselves, and prodigally spent
Our native portions, and possessed rent ?
Yet have all debts forgiven us, and advance
By' imputed right to an inheritance
In his eternal kingdom, where we sit
Equal with angels, and co-heirs of it.
Nor dare we under blasphemy conceive
He that shall be our supreme judge, shall leave
Himself so un-inform'd of his elect,
Who knows the hearts of all, and can dissect

78 UNDERWOODS.

The smallest fibre of our flesh ; he can

Find all our atoms from a point t' a span :

Our closest creeks and corners, and can trace

Each line, as it were graphic, in the face.

And best he knew her noble character,

For 'twas himself who form'd and gave it her.

And to that form lent two such veins of blood,

As nature could not more increase the flood

Of title in her ! all nobility

But pride, that schism of incivility,

She had, and it became her ! she was fit

T' have known no envy, but by sufFring it !

She had a mind as calm as she was fair;

Not tost or troubled with light lady-air,

But kept an even gait, as some straight tree

Mov'd by the wind, so comely moved she.

And by the awful manage of her eye,

She sway'd all bus'ness in the family.

To one she said, do this, he did it ; so

To another, move, he went ; to a third, go,

He ran ; and all did strive with diligence

T' obey, and serve her sweet commandements.

She was in one a many parts of- life ;
A tender mother, a discreeter wife,
A solemn mistress, and so good a friend,
So charitable to religious end
In all her petite actions, so devote,
As her whole life was now become one note
Of piety and private holiness.
She spent more time in tears herself to dress
For her devotions, and those sad essays
Of sorrow, than all pomp of gaudy days;
And came forth ever cheered with the rod
Of divine comfort, when she had talk'd with God.
Her broken sighs did never miss whole sense ;
Nor can the bruised heart want eloquence :

UNDERWOODS. 79

For prayer is the incense most perfumes

The holy altars, when it least presumes.

And hers were all humility ! they beat

The door of grace, and found the mercy-seat.

In frequent speaking by the pious psalms

Her solemn hours she spent, or giving alms,

Or doing other deeds of charity,

To clothe the naked, feed the hungry. She

Would sit in an infirmary whole days

Poring, as on a map, to find the ways

To that eternal rest, where now she hath place

By sure election and predestin'd grace !

She saw her Saviour, by an early light,

Incarnate in the manger, shining bright

On all the world ! she saw him on the cross

SufFring and dying to redeem our loss :

She saw him rise triumphing over death,

To justify and quicken us in breath;

She saw him too in glory to ascend

For his designed work the perfect end

Of raising, judging and rewarding all

The kind of man, on whom his doom should fall !

All this by faith she saw, and fram'd a plea,
In manner of a daily apostrophe,
To him should be her judge, true God, true Man,
Jesus, the only-gotten Christ ! who can,
As being redeemer and repairer too
Of lapsed nature, best know what to do,
In that great act of judgment, which the father
Hath given wholly to the son (the rather
As being the son of man) to shew his power,
His wisdom, and his justice, in that hour,
The last of hours, and shutter up of all ; „
Where first his power will appear, by call
Of all are dead to life ; his wisdom show
In the discerning of each conscience so ;

80 UNDERWOODS

And most his justice, in the fitting parts,
And giving dues to all mankind's deserts !
In this sweet extasy she was rapt hence.
Who reads, will pardon my intelligence,
That thus have ventured these true strains upon,
To publish her a saint. MY MUSE is GONE !

In pietatis memoriam

quam prczstas

Venetian tuce illustrissim.

Marit. dign. Dig b tie

Hanc 'AHOGEnilN, tibi, tuisque sacro.

THE TENTH,

BEING HER INSCRIPTION, OR CROWN,
IS LOST.

LEGES CONVIVALES.

VOL. IX.

LEGES CONTIVALES.] Nothing can be more pure and elegant
than the latinity of these " Laws." In drawing them up, Jon-
son seems to have had the rules of the Roman entertainments
in view; as collected with great industry by Lipsius.

As Whalley printed the old translation of these Rules I have
retained it. The poetry, however, has little merit, and the ori-
ginal is not always correctly rendered ; but there is no better :
a version somewhat anterior to this, appeared in a volume ef
Songs and other Poems, by Alex. Brome, London 1661.

LEGES CONVIVALES.

Quodfcelixfaustumque convivis in Apollinc sit.

1 NEMO ASYMBOLUS, NISI UMBRA, HUC VENITO.

2 IDIOTA, INSULSUS, TRISTIS, TURPIS, ABESTO.

3 ERUDITI, URBANI, HILARES, HONESTI, ADSCISCUN-

TOR,

4 NEC LECTJE FCEM1NJE REPUDIANTOR.

RULES FOR THE TAVERN ACADEMY

OR

LAWS FOR THE BEAUX ESPRITS.

From the Latin of BEN JOKSON, engra?en in Marble over the
Chimney, in the APOJ.LO of the Old Devil Tavern,* at Temple.
Bar ; that being his Club-Room.

Non verbum reddere verbo.

I.

1 As the fund of our pleasure, let each pay his shot,
Except some chance friend, whom a member brings in.

2 Far hence be the sad, the lewd fop, and the sot ;
For such have the plagues of good company been.

II.

3 Let the learned and witty, the jovial and gay,
The generous and honest, compose our free state;

4 And the more to exalt our delight whilst we stay,
Let none be debarr'd from his choice female mate.

1 Apollo of the Old Devil Tavern.] The modern revolutions
ef this tarern, as far as they are known, have been kindly trans-

G 2

84 LEGES CONVIVALES.

5 IN APPARATU QUOD CONVIV1S CORRUGET NARES NIL

ESTO.

6 F,PUL#; DELECTU POTIUS QUAM SUMPTU PARANTOR.

7 OBSONATOR ET coouus CONVIVARUM GULJEPERITI

SUNTO.

8 DE DISCUBITU NON CONTENDITOR.

9 MlNISTRl A DAP1BUS, OCULATI ET MUTI,

A POCULIS, AURITI ET CELERES SUNTO.

III.

5 Let no scent offensive the chamber infest.

6 Let fancy, not cost, prepare all our dishes.

7 Let the caterer mind the taste of each guest,

And the cook, in his dressing, comply with their wishes.

IV.

8 Let's hare no disturbance about taking places,
To shew your nice breeding, or out of vain pride.

9 Let the drawers be ready with wine and fresh glasses,
Let the waiters have eyes, though their tongues must be ty'd.

mitted to me by J. Dent, Esq. one of the principal partners in
the banking-house of Child and Co. " Mr. Taylor of the parish
of St. Bride's London, Esq. appears by indenture October 1734,
to hare been the owner of the two messuages or tenements close
to the east of Temple Bar, of which the one known by the name
of St. Dunstan's, or the old Devil Tavern, was then in the oc-
cupation of John Goostrey. — Taylor sold this property to
Richard Andrews of St. Dunstan's parish, July 1766. — Andrews
parted with it to Mess. Child, in June 1787 for 2800/. By
these gentlemen the Devil Tavern was pulled down soon after
they bought it, and the present buildings in Child's Place erected
on its scite. In this tavern was the room known by the name
of the Apollo, in which was held the APOLLO CLUB established
by the celebrated Ben Jonson. Over the door in gold letters on
a black ground were painted his verses beginning " Welcome
all," &c. and above them was placed a bust of the poet — both
these are still in the possession of Messrs. Child : — the Rules of
the club, said to have been engraved on black marble, and fixed
up in the same room, were no longer there,* when Messrs. Child

* They were probably removed by Andrews. The Apollo,
of which a print was published in 1774, appears to have been a
handsome room, large and lofty, and furnished with a gallery

LEGES CONVIVALES. 85

10 VlNA PURIS FONTIBUS MINISTRENTOR AUT VAPU-

LET HOSPES.

1 1 MODERATIS POCUL1S PROVOCARE SODALES FAS ESTO.

12 AT FABULIS MAGIS QUAM VINO VELITATIO FIAT.
IS CONVIVE NEC MUT1 * NEC LOQUACES SUNTO.

14 DE SERIIS AC SACRIS POTI ET SATURI NE DISSE-

RUNTO.

15 FlDICEN, NISI ACCERSITUS, NON VENITO.

16 ADMISSORISU,TRIPUDIIS,CHOREIS, CANTU,SALIBUS,

OMNI GRATIARUM FESTIVITATE SACRA CELE-

BRANTOR.

17 JOCI SINE FELLE SUNTO.

18 INSIPIDA POEMATA NULLA RECITANTOR.

V.

10 Let our wines without mixture or stum, be all fine,
Or call up the master, and break his dull noddle.

11 Let no sober bigot here think it a sin,

To push on the chirping and moderate bottle.

12 Let the contests be rather of books than of wine.

13 Let the company be neither noisy nor mute.

14 Let none of things serious, much less of divine,
When belly and head's full, profanely dispute.

VII.

15 Let no saucy fidler presume to intrude,
Unless he is sent for to vary our bliss.

16 With mirth) wit, and dancing, and singing conclude,
To regale every sense, with delight in eicess.

VIII.

17 Let raillery be without malice or heat.

1 8 Dull poems to read let none privilege take.

had possession given them of the premises. The other tenement
above alluded to, was called the King's Arms and Civet Cat,
William Wintle tenant : — this was added to the present pre-
mises of Messrs. Child and Co. about the year 1796 ; the bar of
this tavern being now part of their kitchen. The original sign
(still in existence) of the banking-house, was the full blown
marygold exposed to a meridian sun, with this motto round it,
Ainsi mon Ame. J. D.

for music. It was frequently used for balls, &c. and here Dr.
Kenrick gave, about 1775, his Lectures on Shakspeare.
* Al. CONVIVJE NON MULTI.

86 LEGES CONVIVALES.

19 VERSUS SCRIBERE NULLTJS COGITOR.

20 ARGUMENTATIONIS TOTIUS STREPITUS ABESTO.

21 AMATORIIS QUERELIS,AC SUSPIRIIS LIBER ANGULUS

ESTO.

22 LAPITHARUM MORE SCYPHIS PUGNARE, VITREA

COLLIDERE,

FENESTRAS EXCUTERE, SUPELLECTILEM DILA-
CERARE, NEFAS ESTO. '

23 Qui FORAS VEL DICTA, VEL FACTA ELIMINET, ELI-

MINATOR.

24 NEMINEM REUM POCULA FACIUNTO.

FOCUS PERENNIS ESTO.

19 Let no poetaster command or in treat
Another extempore verses to make.

IX.

20 Let argument bear no unmusical sound,

Nor jars interpose, sacred friendship to grieve.

21 For generous lovers let a corner be found,
Where they in soft sighs may their passions relieve.

X.

22 Like the old Lapithites, with the goblets to fight,
Our own 'mongst offences unpardon'd will rank,
Or breaking of windows, or glasses, for spight,
And spoiling the goods for a rakehelly prank.

XL

23 Whoeyer shall publish what's said, or what's done,
Be he banish 'd for ever our assembly divine.

24 Let the freedom we take be perverted by none,
To make any guilty by drinking good wine.

[87]

VERSES PLACED OVER THE DOOR AT THE EN-
TRANCE INTO THE APOLLO.

Welcome all who lead or follow,

To the Oracle of APOLLO

Here he speaks out of his pottle,

Or the tripos, his tower bottle :

All his answers are divine,

Truth itself doth flow in wine.

Hang up all the poor hop-drinkers,

Cries old SIM, the king of skinkers ; *

He the half of life abuses,

That sits watering with the Muses.

Those dull girls no good can mean us ;

Wine it is the milk of Venus,4

And the poet's horse accounted :

Ply it, and you all are mounted.

'Tis the true Phoebian liquor,

Cheers the brains, makes wit the quicker.

Pays all debts, cures all diseases,

And at once three senses pleases.

Welcome all who lead or follow,

To the Oracle of APOLLO.

O RARE BEN JONSON !

* Cries old Sim, the king of skulkers,] Old Sim means Simon
Wadloc, who then kept the Devil tavern ; and of him probably
is the old catch, beginning,

Old Sir Simon the king WHAL.

* Wine it is the milk ofVenus.~\ From the Greek Anacreontic,

WHAL.

TRANSLATIONS

FROM THE

LATIN POETS.

HORACE

HIS

ART OF POETRY.

HORACE OP THE ART OF POETRY.] This translation, which
was probably among the earliest works of Jonson, was not
given to the press till some time after his death, when it was
published in 1640, with some other pieces in 12mo. by John
Benson, with a dedication to lord Winsor, who, as the writer
says, " rightly knew the worth and true esteem both of the
author and his learning, being more conspicuous in the judg-
ment of your lordship and other sublime spirits than my capa-
city can describe."

Many transcripts of this rersion got abroad ; these differed
considerably from one another, and all perhaps, from the Ori-
ginal copy. In the three which have reached us, though all
were published nearly at the same time, variations occur in
almost every line. To notice them would be both tedious
and unprofitable : suffice it to say that I have adopted the text
of the folio 1640, as, upon the whole, the most correct, though
exceptions may occasionally be met with in the smaller editions.

It was for this poem that our author compiled the vast body
of notes which was destroyed in the conflagration of his study.
After this, he seems to have lost all thoughts of the press —
indeed age and disease were advancing fast upon him, if, as I
conjecture, the fire took place about 1623, and left him as
little heart as power to venture again before a public not, in
general, too partial to his labours.

The small edition is prefaced by several commendatory
poems, one of which only appears to be written on occasion of
the present version. This is by the celebrated lord Herbert of
Cherbury, and is addressed " to his friend master Ben Jonson,
on his Translation."

" 'Twas not enough, Ben Jonson, to be thought
Of English poets best, but to have brought,
In greater state, to their acquaintance, one
Made equal to himself and thee ; that none
Might be thy second : while thy glory is
To be the HORACE of our times, and his.'*

Jonson was followed (at unequal periods) by three writers, who
in the century succeeding his death (for I hare neither leisure
nor inclination to go lower,) published their respective versions
of the Art of Poetry. It may amuse the reader, perhaps, to listen
for a moment to what they say of our poet, and of one another.
Roscommon begins —

" I have kept as close as I could both to the meaning, and
the words of the author, and done nothing but what I believe

he would forgive me if he were alive ; and I have often asked
myself that question. I know this is a field,

Per quern magnus equos Auruncct flexit alumnus,

but with all respect due to the name of Ben Jonson, to which
no man pays more veneration than I ; it cannot be denied, that
the constraint of rhyme, and a literal translation (to which
Horace in his book declares himself an enemy) has made him
want a comment in many places."

Oldham follows :

" I doubt not but the reader will think me guilty of an high
presumption in venturing upon a translation of the Art of Poetry,
after two such great hands as have gone before me in the same
attempts : 1 need not acquaint him that I mean Ben Jonson,
and the earl of Roscommon ; the one being of so established
an authority, that whatever he did is held as sacred, the other
having lately performed it with such admirable success, as almost
cuts off all hope in any after pretenders, of ever coming up to
what he has done."

The last is Henry Ames :

" }Tis certain my lord Roscommon has not only excelled in
justness oj" version and elegance of style, but has given his poet
all the natural beauties and genteel plainness of the English
dress ; but his lordship rid with a slack rein, and freed himself
at once from all the incumbrance and perplexity of rhyme ;
and sure it must be confessed some difficulty to be circumscribed
to syllables and sounds : Mr. Oldham, indeed, has very skill-
fully touched the Horatian lyre, and worked it into musical
harmony ; but^o modernized the poem, and reduced it to the
standard of his own time, that a peevish reader may not only
be disgusted at want of the poetical history, but think himself
privileged to except against all such freedoms in any one but
Mr. Oldham.

Ben Jonson, (with submission to his memory,) by trans,
grossing a most useful precept, has widely differed from them
both ; and trod so close upon the heels of Horace, that he has
not only crampt? but made him halt, in (almost) every line,"

HORATIUS

DE

ARTE POETICA.

Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas,
Undique coilatis membris, ut turpiter at rum
Desinat In piscem mulierformosa supernb ;
Sped at urn admissi risum teneatis amici ?
Credite, Pisones, isti tabulcefore librum
Pet similem, cujus, velut cegri somnia, vanes
Fingenlur species : ut nee pes, nee caput uni
Rcddaturjorma. Pictoribus, atque poetis
Quidlibet audendi semper fait aqua po test as.
Scimus ; et hanc veniam petimusque, damusque, vi-

cissim :

Sed non ut placidis coeant immitia, non ut
Serpentes ambus geminentur, tigribus agni.

Incceptis gravibus plerunque, et magna prqfessis
Purpureus, latk qui splendeat, unus et alter

HORACE

OF THE

ART OF POETRY.1

IF to a woman's head a painter would
Set a horse-neck, and divers feathers fold
On every limb, ta'en from a several creature,
Presenting upwards a fair female feature,
Which in some swarthy fish uncomely ends:
Admitted to the sight, although his friends,
Could you contain your laughter? Credit me,
This piece, my Pisos, and that book agree,
Whose shapes, like sick men's dreams, are feign'd

so vain,

As neither head, nor feet, one form retain.
But equal power to painter and to poet,
Of daring all, hath still been given ; we know it :
And both do crave, and give again, this leave.
Yet, not as therefore wild and tame should cleave
Together ; not that we should serpents see
With doves ; or lambs with tigers coupled be.

In grave beginnings, and great things profest,
Ye have oft-times, that may o'ershine the rest,

1 We are not to look for grace and beauty in this transla-
tion : the poet's design being to give as close a version of the
text, as the different genius of the two languages would admit.
But Jonson will be found perfectly to understand his author,
and to exhibit his meaning with his usual vigour and conciseness
of style. WHAL.

94 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Assuitur pannus : cum lucus, et ara Diana,
Et properantis aquce per amcenos ambitus agros,
Autflumen Rhcnum, aut pluvius describitur arcus.
Sed nunc non erat his locus : etfortasse cupressum
Scis simulare : quid hoc, sifractis enatat exspes
Navibus, cere dato qui pingitur ? amphora ccepit
Institui ; currente rota, cur urceus exit ?
Denique sit, quod vis, simplex duntaxat et unum.

Maxima pars vatum, pater, etjwvenes patre digni,
Decipimur specie recti : brems esse laboro,
Obscurusjio : sectantem Icevia, nervi
Defaiunt animique : professus grandia, turget :
Serpit humi, tutus nimium, timidusqueprocellae.
Qui variare cupit rem prodigaliter unam,
Delphinum sylvis appingit,Jtuctibus aprum.
In vitium ducit culp&fuga, si caret arte.

JEmilium circa ludumfaber imus, et ungues
Exprimet, et molles imitabitur are capillos ;
Infcdix operis summa, quia ponere totum
Nesciet. Hunc ego me, si quid componere curem,
Non magis esse velim, quam pravo vivere naso,
Spectandum nigris oculis, nigroque capillo.

Sumite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, &quam
Viribus, et versate diu, quid ferre recusent,

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 95

A scarlet piece, or two, stitch'd in : when or
Diana's grove, or altar, with the bor-
D'ring circles of swift waters that intwine
The pleasant grounds, or when the river Rhine,
Or rainbow is describ'd. But here was now
No place for these. And, painter, haply thou
Know'st only well to paint a cypress-tree.
What's this? if he whose money hireth thee
To paint him, hath by swimming, hopeless, scap'd,
The whole fleet wreck'd ? A great jar to be shap'd,
Was meant at first ; why forcing still about
Thy labouring wheel, comes scarce a pitcher out?
In short, I bid, let what thou work'st upon,
Be simple quite throughout, and wholly one.

Most writers, noble sire, and either son,
Are, with the likeness of the truth, undone.
Myself for shortness labour, and I grow
Obscure. This, striving to run smooth, and flow,
Hath neither soul nor sinews. Lofty he
Professing greatness, swells; that, low by lee,
Creeps on the ground ; too safe, afraid of storm.
This seeking, in a various kind, to form
One thing prodigiously, paints in the woods
A dolphin, and a boar amid the floods.
So, shunning faults to greater fault doth lead,
When in a wrong and artless way we tread.

The worst of statuaries, here about
Th' Emilian school, in brass can fashion out
The nails, and every curled hair disclose ;
But in the main work hapless : since he knows
Not to design the whole. Should I aspire
To form a work, I would no more desire
To be that smith, than live marked one of those,
With fair black eyes and hair, and a wry nose.

Take, therefore, you that write, still, matter fit
Unto your strength, and long examine it,

96 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Quid valeant humeri. Cm kcta potenter erit res,
Necfacundia deseret hunc, nee lucidus or do.
Ordinis h&c virtus erit, et Venus, aut ego Jailor,
Ut jam mine dicat, jam nunc debentia did;
Pleraque dijferat, et prcesens in tempus omittat;
Hoc amet, hoc spernat promissi carminis auctor.

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis,
Diveris egregie, notum si callida verbum
Reddiderit junctura novum. Si forte necesse est
Indiciis monstrare recentibus abdita rerum ;
Fingere cinctutis non txaudita Cethegis
Continget, dabiturque licentia, sumpta pudenter.
Et nova fictaque nuper habebunt verbajiolem, si
Gr&cofonte cadant, parce detorta. Quid autem
Ccecilio Plautoque dabit Romanus, ademptum
Virgilio Varioque ? Ego cur, acquirere pauca
Si possum, invideor : cum lingua Catonis, et Ennt
Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum
Nomina protulerit ? Licuit, semperque licebit,
Signatum prcesente notd producere nomen.
Ut sylvcefoliis pronos mutantur in unnos,
Prima cadunt ; ita verborum vetus interit cetas,
Et juvenum ritujlorent modd nata, vigentque.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 97

Upon your shoulders : prove what they will bear,
And what they will not. Him, whose choice doth

rear

His matter to his pow'r, in all he makes,
Nor language, nor clear order e'er forsakes ;
The virtue of which order, and true grace,
Or 1 am much deceiv'd, shall be to place
Invention : now to speak ; and then defer
Much, that mought now be spoke, omitted here
Till fitter season ; now, to like of this,
Lay that aside, the epic's office is.

In using also of new words, to be
Right spare, and wary : then thou speak'st to me
Most worthy praise, when words that common grew
Are, by thy cunning placing, made mere new.
Yet if by chance, in utt'ring things abstruse,
Thou need new terms; thoumayst,withoutexcuse,
Feign words unheard of to the well-truss'd race
Of the Cethegi ; and all men will grace,
And give, being taken modestly, this leave,
And those thy new and late coiu'd words receive,
So they fall gently from the Grecian spring,
And come not too much wrested. What's that thing
A Roman to Cascilius will allow,
Or Plautus, and in Virgil disavow,
Or Varius ? why am I now envy'd so,
If I can give some small increase ? when lo,
Cato'sandEnnius' tongues have lent much worth,
And wealth unto our language, and brought forth
New names of things. It hath been ever free,
And ever will, to utter terms that be
Stamptto thetime. As woods whose change appears
Still in their leaves, throughout the sliding years,
The first-born dying, so the aged state
Of words decays, and phrases born but late,
Like tender buds shoot up, and freshly grow.
Ourselves, and all that's ours, to death we owe :

VOL. ix. H

98 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Debemur morti nos nostraque : sive reccptus
Terrci Neptunus, classes Aquilonibus arcet,
Regis opus ; sterilisve diu palus, aptaque remis,
Vicinas urbes alit, et grave sentit aratrum :
Seu cursum mutavit iniquum frugibus amnis ;
Doctus iter melius. Mortalia facta peribunt,
Nedum sermonum stet horns, et gratia vvoax.
Multa renascentur, qucejam cecidere, cadentque
Quce nunc sunt in honore, vocabula, si volet usus ;
Quern penes arbitr'mm est, ctjus, et norma toquendi.

Res gestce ?*egumque, ducumque, et tristia bella
Quo scribi possent numero, monstravit Homerus.
Versibus impariterjunctis querimonia primum,
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiscrit auctor,
Grammatici cert ant, et adhuc subjudice Us est.
Musa dedit jidlbus divos puerosque deorum,
Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Etjuvenum cur as, et liber a vina refer re.

Archilochum proprio rabies armavit 'iambo.
Hunc socci cepere pedem, grandesque cothurni,
Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares
Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.

Versibus evponi tragicis res comica non vult.
Indignatur item privatis, ac prope socco
Dignis carrninibus celebrari ccena Thyestce.
Singula quczque locum teneant sortita decenter.
Descriptas servare vices operumque colons

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 99

Whether the sea receiv'd into the shore,
That from the north the navy safe doth store,
A kingly work ; or that long barren fen
Once rowable, but now doth nourish men
In neighbour towns, and feels the weighty plough ;
Or the wild river, who hath changed now
His course, so hurtful both to grain and seeds,
Being taught a better way. All mortal deeds
Shall perish : so far off it is, the state,
Or grace of speech, should hope a lasting date.
Much phrase that now is dead, shall be reviv'd,
And much shall die, that now is nobly liv'd,
If custom please ; at whose disposing will
The power and rule of speaking resteth still.

The gests of kings, great captains, and sad wars,
What number best can fit, Homer declares.
In verse unequal match'd, first sour laments,
After men's wishes, crown'd in their events,
Were also clos'd : but who the man should be,
That first sent forth the dapper elegy,
All the grammarians strive; and yet in court
Before the judge, it hangs, and waits report.

Unto the lyric strings, the muse gave grace
To chant the gods, and all their god-like race,
The conqu'ring champion, the prime horse in

course,

Fresh lovers business, and the wine's free source.
Th' Iambic arm'd Archilochus to rave,
This foot the socks took up, and buskins grave>
As fit t* exchange discourse ; a verse to win
On popular noise with, and do business in.

The comic matter will not be exprest8
In tragic verse ; no less Thyestes' feast
Abhors low numbers, and the private strain
Fit for the sock : each subject should retain

* The comic matter, &c.] Oldham, who in bi* translation

100 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Cur ego, si nequeo, ignoroque poeta salutor ?
Cur nescire, puderis prave, quam discere malo ?
Interdiim tamert, et vocem comcedia tollit,
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore,
Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri
Tekphus, et Peleus, cum pauper, et exul uterque,
Projidt ampullas, et sesquipedalia verba,
Si cur at cor sptctantis tetigisse quereld.
Non satis est pukhra esse poemata : dulcia sunto,
Et quocunque volent animum auditoris agunto.
Ut ridentibus arrident, itajtentibus adflent
Humani vultus. Si vis meflere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi: tune tua me infortunia Icedent
Telephe, vel Peleu : male si mandata loqueris*
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo, Tristia mcestum
Vultum, verba decent : iratum, plena minarum :
Ludentem, lasciva : severum, seria dicta.
Format enim naturaprius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum : juvat, aut impellit ad iram,
Aut ad humum mcerore gravi deducit, et angit :

of this poem removes the scene from Rome to London, has
adapted this passage to our author's dramatic characters :

" Fit/pone and Muruse will riot admit
Of Ctttifin'ti hiuh strains, nor is it fit
To make S<Janun on the Stage appear
In the low dress which comic persons wear."

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 101

The place allotted it, with decent thewes.

If now the turns, the colours, and right hues

Of poems here described, I can nor use,

Nor know t'observe : why (i'the muses name)

Am I calTd poet? wherefore with wrong shame,

Perversely modest, had I rather owe

To ignorance still, than either learn or know ?

Yet sometime doth the comedy excite

Her voice, and angry Chremes chafes out-right

With swelling throat: and oft the tragic wight

Complains in humble phrase. Both Telephus,

And Peleus, if they seek to heart-strike us

That are spectators, with their misery,

When they are poor, and banish'd, must throw by

Their bombard-phrase, and foot-and half- foot

words :

'Tis not enough, th' elaborate muse affords
Her poems beauty, but a sweet delight
To work the hearers' minds still to their plight.
Men's faces still, with such as laugh are prone
To laughter ; so they grieve with those that moan ;
If thou would'st have me weep,bethou first drown'd
Thyself in tears, then me thy loss will wound,
Peleus, or Telephus* If you speak vile
And ill-penn'd things, I shall or sleep, or smile*
Sad language fits sad looks, stufFd menacirigs
The angry brow, the sportive wanton things;
And the severe, speech ever serious.
For nature, first within doth fashion us,
To every state of fortune ; she helps on,
Or urgeth us to anger : and anon
With weighty sorrow hurls us all along,
And tortures us: and after, by the tongue

Not only the translation, as is said above, but the arrangement
of the text, mainly differs in the folio and minor editions. I
have left both as I found them, not knowing what part of either
proceeded from Jonson.

102 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Post ejfert animi mot us inter prete lingua.
Si dicentis eruntfortunis absona dicta,
Romani tollent equitespeditesquecachinnum.
Intererit multum, Davusne loquatur, an heros,
Maturusne senex, an adhucjlorentejuventd
Fervidus : an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix :
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli :
Colchus, an Assyrius : Thebis nut r it us, an Argis.
Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientiajinge
Scriptor. Honoratum sifortb reponis Achillem,
Impiger, iracundus, mexorabilis, acer,
Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.
Sit Medea ferox moictaque,flebilis Ino,
Perjidus Ixion, lo vaga, tristis Orestes.
Si quid inexpertum scena3 committis, et audes
Personamformare novam ; servetur ad imum
Qualis ab inccepto processerit, et sibi const et.

Difficile est proprib communia dicere ; tuque
Rectius Iliacum carmen deducts in actus,
Quam si proferres ignota, indict ague primus.
Publica materies privati juris erit ; si
Nee circa vilem, patulumque moraberis orbem :
Nee verbum verbo curabis- redderejidus
Interpres ; nee desilies imitator in arctum,
Unde pedem prof err e pu dor vetet, aut operis lex.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 103

Her truchman, she reports the mind's each throe.

If now the phrase of him that speaks, shall flow

In sound, quite from his fortune ; both the rout,

And Roman gentry, jeering, will laugh out.

It much will differ, if a god speak, than,

Or an heroe ; if a ripe old man,

Or some hot youth, yet in his flourishing course ;

Wher some great lady, or her diligent nurse;

A vent'ring merchant, or a farmer free

Of some small thankful land ; whether he be

Of Colchis born, or in Assyria bred ;

Or with the milk of Thebes, or Argus, fed.

Or follow fame, thou that dost write, or feign

Things in themselves agreeing: if again

Honour'd Achilles' chance by thee be seiz'd,

Keep him still active, angry, unappeas'd,

Sharp and contemning laws at him should aim,

Be nought so 'bove him but his sword let claim.

Medea make brave with impetuous scorn ;
Ino bewail'd, Ixion false, forsworn ;
Poor lo wandring, wild Orestes mad :
If something strange, that never yet was had
Unto the scene thou bring'st, and dar'st create
A mere new person ; look he keep his state
Unto the last, as when he first went forth,
Still to be like himself, and hold his worth.

'Tis hard to speak things common properly ;
And thou may'st better bring a rhapsody
Of Homer's forth in acts, than of thine own,
First publish things unspoken, and unknown.
Yet common matter thou thine own may'st make,
If thou the vile broad trodden ring forsake.
For, being a poet, thou may'st feign, create,
Not care, as thou wouldst faithfully translate,
To render word for word : nor with thy sleight
Of imitation, leap into a streight,
From whence thy modesty, or poem's law
Forbids thee forth again thy foot to draw.

104 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Nee sic incipies, ut scriptor cyclicus olim :
Fortunam Priami cant a bo, et nobile bellum.
Quid (lignum tanto fwet hicpromissor hiatu f
Parturiunt monies, nasceter ridiculus mus.
Quan td rec titts hie, qui nil molitur inept e •
Die mild. Musa, virum, cap Ice post tempora Trojce,
Qui mows hominum multorum vidit, et urbes.
Non fitmum tx fulgore, sed exfumo dare, lucem
Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat,
Antipkaten, Sycllamque, et cum Cy elope Charybdim :
Nee reditum Diomedis ab Interitu Meleagri.
Nee gemino bellum Trojan um orditur ab ovo.
Semper ad eventumfestinat, et in medias res,
Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit : et qua
Desperat tractata nitcscere posse9 relinquit.
Atque ita mentitur, sic verts falsa remiscet,
Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.
Tu quid ego, et populus mecum desideret, audi.
Si plausoris eges aul&a manentis, et usque
Sessuri, donee cantor, vos plaudit e, dicat ;
JEtatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores,
Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus, et annis.

Redder e qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo
Signat humum, gestit paribus colludere, et iram
Colligit, ac ponit temere, et mutatur in horas.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 105

Nor so begin, as did that circlerlate,

I sing a noble war, and Priam's fate.

What doth this promiser such gaping worth

Afford? The mountains travail'd, and brought

forth

A scorned mouse ! O, how much better his,
Who nought assays unaptly, or amiss ?
Speak to me, muse, the man, who after Troy was

sack'd,

Saw many towns and men, and could their man-
ners tract.

He thinks not how to give you smoke from light,
But light from smoke, that he may draw his bright
Wonders forth after : as Antiphates,
Scylla, Charybdis, Polypheme, with these.
Nor from the brand, with which the life did burn
Of Meleager, brings he the return
Of Diomede ; nor Troy's sad war begins
From the two eggs that did disclose the twins*
He ever hastens to the end, and so
(As if he knew it) raps his hearer to
The middle of his matter ; letting go
What he despairs, being handled, mightnotshow:
And so well feigns, so mixeth cunningly
Falsehood with truth, as no man can espy
Where the midst differs from the first ; or where
The last doth from the midst disjoin'd appear.

Hear what it is the people and I desire :
If such a one's applause thou dost require,
That tarries till the hangings be ta'en down,
And sits till th' epilogue says Clap, or crown :
The customs of each age thou must observe,
And give their years and natures, as they swerve,
Fit rights. The child, that now knows how to say,
And can tread firm, longs with like lads to play ;
Soon angry, and soon pleas'd, is sweet, or sour,
He knows not why, and changeth every hour.

106 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Imberbis juvenis tandem custode remolo,
Gaudet equis canibusque, et aprici gramme campi,
Cereus in vitiumflecti, monitoribus asper,
Utilium tardus promisor, prodigus ceris,
Sublimis, cupidusque, et amata relinquere pernLv.

Conversis studiis, cetas, animusque virilis
Qucerit opes, et amicitias : inservit honori :
Commisisse cavet, quod mox mutare laboret.

Multa senem circumveniunt incommodd, vel qudd
Quterit, et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti :
Vel qudd res omnes timide gelideque ministrat ;
Dilator, spe longus, iners, avidusque futuri,
Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti
Se puero : censor, castigatorque minorum.
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum ;
Multa recedentes adimunt, ne forte seniles
Mandentur juveni paries, pueroque viriles,
Semper in adjunctis, cevoque morabimur aptis.

Aut agitur res in scenis, aut act a refertur,
Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,
Quam quce sunt oculis subject a Jidelib us, et qua
Ipse sibi tradit spectator. Non tamen intus
Digna geri, promes in scenam : multaque tolles
Ex oculis, qu& mox narret facundia pr&sens*

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 107

Th 'unbearded youth, his guardian once being

gone,

Loves dogs and horses ; and is ever one
I' the open field ; is wax-like to be- wrought
To every vice, as hardly to be brought
To endure counsel : a provider slow
For his own good, a careless letter-go
Of money, haughty, to desire soon mov'd,
And then as swift to leave what he hath lov'd.
These studies alter now, in one grown man ;
His better'd mind seeks wealth and friendship;

than

Looks after honours, and bewares to act
What straightway he must labour to retract.

The old man many evils do girt round ;
Either because he seeks, and, having found,
Doth wretchedly the use of things forbear,
Or does all business coldly, and with fear;
A great deferrer, long in hope, grown numb
With sloth, yet greedy still of what's to come :
Froward, complaining, a commender glad
Of the times past, when he was a young lad :
And still correcting youth, and censuring.
Man's coming years much good with them do

bring :

As his departing take much thence, lest then
The parts of age to youth be given, or men
To children ; we must always dwell, and stay
In fitting proper adjuncts to each day.

The business either on the stage is done,
Or acted told. But ever things that run
In at the ear, do stir the mind more slow
Than those the faithful eyes take in by show,
And the beholder to himself doth render.
Yet to the stage at all thou may'st not tender
Things worthy to be done within, but take
Much from the sight, which fair report will make

108 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Nee pueros cor am populo Medea trucidet ;
Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus ;
Aut In avem Progne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem.
Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.

Neve minor ) quinto, neu sit productior actu
Fabula, qua posci vult, et spectata reponi.
Nee deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus
Incident : nee quarta loqui persona labor et.

Actoris paries chorus, qfficlumque virile
Defendat, neu quid medios intercinat actus,
Quod non proposito conducat, et h&reat apte.
Ille boriisjaveatque, et conciletur amice :
Et regat iratos, et amet peccare timentes.
Ille dapes laudet mensce breins : ille salubrem
Justitiam, legesque, et apertis otia portis.
Ille tegat commissa, deosque precetur, et oret,
Ut redeat miser is, abeat for tuna super bis.

Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalcho vincta, tubceque
Emula, sed tennis, simplex j 'or amine pauco
Aspirare, et adesse chons erat utilis, atque
Nondum spissa nimis complcre sedilia flatu.
Qud sane populus numerabilis, utpotc parvus,
Etjrugi, castusque verecundusqut coibat.
Postquam ccepit agros exttndtre victor, et urbem
Latior amplecti murus, vinoque diurno,
Placari Genius festis impune diebus,

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 109

Present anon : Medea must not kill
Her sons before the people, nor the ill-
Natur'd and wicked Atreus cook to th' eye
His nephew's entrails: nor must Progne fly
Into a swallow there ; nor Cadmus take
Upon the stage the figure of a snake.
What so is shown, I not believe, and hate.

Nor must the fable, that would hope the fate
Once seen, to be again call'd for, and play'd,
Have more or less than just five acts : nor laid,
To have a god come in ; except a knot
Worth his untying happen there : and not
Any fourth man, to speak at all, aspire.

An actor's parts, and office too, the quire
Must maintain manly : nor be heard to sing
Between the acts, a quite clean other thing
Than to the purpose leads, and fitly 'grees.
It still must favour good men, and to these
Be won a friend ; it must both sway and bend
The angry, and love those that fear t' offend.
Praise the spare diet, wholesome justice, laws,
Peace, and the open ports, that peace doth cause.
Hide faults, pray to the gods, and wish aloud
Fortune would love the poor, and leave the proud.

The hau'boy, not as now with latten bound,
And rival with the trumpet for his sound,
But soft, and simple, at few holds breath'd time
And tune too, fitted to the chorus' rhyme,
As loud enough to fill the seats, not yet
So over-thick, but where the people met,
They might with ease be number'd, being a few
Chaste, thrifty, modest folk, that came to view.
But as they conquer' d and enlarg'd their bound,
That wider walls embiac'd their city round,
And they uncensur'd might at feasts and plays
Steep the glad genius in the wine whole days,

110 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Accessit numerisque modisque licentia major.
Indoctus quid enim saperet, liberque laborum,
Rusticus urbano confusus, turpis honesto ?
Sic priscce motumque, et luxuriant addidit arti
Tibicen, traxitque vagus per pulpita vestem.
Sic etiam fidibus voces crevere. severis,
Et tulit eloquium insolitum facundia praiceps.
TJtiliumque sagax rerum, et divina futuri
Sortilegis non descrepuit sententia Delphis.

Ignotum Tragicce genus invenisse Camcence
Dicitut*, et plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis,
Quce canerent agerentque perunctifacibus ora.
Post hunc personce pallceque. repertor honestce
jEschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis,
Et docuit magnumque loqui nitique cothurno.
Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum,
Mox etiam agrestes satyros nudavit, et asper
Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit : ed quod
Illecebris erat, et grata novitate morandus
Spectator, fanctusque sacris, et potus, et exlex.

Verum ita risores, ita commendare dicaces
Convenient satyros, ita vertere seria ludo :
Ne, quicunque deus, quicunque adhibebitur heros,
Regali conspectus in auro nuper, et ostro,
Migret in obscuras humili scrmone tabernas ;

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY, in

Both in their tunes the license greater grew,
And in their numbers ; for alas, what knew
The idiot, keeping holida}r, or drudge,
Clown, townsman, base and noble mixt, to judge?
Thus to his ancient art the piper lent
Gesture and Riot, whilst he swooping went
In his train'd go\vn about the stage : so grew
In time to tragedy, a music new.
The rash and headlong eloquence brought forth
Unwonted language : and that sense of worth
That found out profit, and foretold each thing
Now differed not from Delphic riddling.

Thespis is said to be the first found out
The Tragedy, and carried it about,
Till then unknown, in carts, wherein did ride
Those that did sing, and act: their faces dy'd
With lees of wine. Next Eschylus, more late
Brought in the visor, and the robe of state,
Built a small timber'd stage, and taught them

talk

Lofty and grave, and in the buskin stalk.
He too, that did in tragic verse contend
For the vile goat, soon after forth did send
The rough rude satyrs naked, and would try,
Though sour, with safety of his gravity,
How he could jest, because he mark'd and saw
The free spectators subject to no law,
Having well eat and drunk, the rites being done,
Were to be staid with softnesses, and won
With something that was acceptably new.
Yet so the scoffing satyrs to men's view,
And so their prating to present was best,
And so to turn all earnest into jest,
As neither any god were brought in there,
Or semi-god, that late was seen to wear
A royal crown and purple, be made hop
With poor base terms through every baser shop :

HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes, et inania captet.

Ejfutire leves indigna tragoedia versus :
Utjestis matrona moverijussa diebus,
Intererit satyris paulum pudibunda protervis.

Non ego inornata, et dominantia nomina solum,
Verbaque, Pisones, satyrorum scriptor amabo :
Nee sic emtar tragico differre colori
Iff nihil intersit, JDavusne loquatur, an audax
Pythias emuncto lucrata Simone talentum ;
An custos, famulusque dei Silenus alumni.

Ex notofctum carmen sequar, ut sibi quwis
Speret idem : sudet multumjrustraque laboret
Ausus idem : tantum series juncturaque pollet :
Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris.
Sitois deducti caveant, mejudice, Fauni,
Ne velut innati triviis, ac peneforcnses,
Aut nimium tenerisjuvenentur versibus unquam,
Aut immunda crepent, ignominiosaque dicta.
Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et res
Nee, si quidfricti ciceris probat, et nucis emptor,
JEquis accipiunt animis, donantve corona.

Successit vet us his Comcedia non sine multa
Laude, sed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 113

Or whilst he shuns the earth, to catch at air
And empty clouds. For tragedy is fair,
And far unworthy to blurt out light rhymes ;
But as a matron drawn at solemn times
To dance, so she should shamefac'd differ far
From what th' obscene and petulant satyrs are.
Nor I, when I write satyrs, will so love
Plain phrase, iny Pisos, as alone t' approve
Mere reigning words : nor will I labour so
Quite from all face of tragedy to go,
As not make difference, whether Davus speak,
And the bold Pythias, having cheated weak
Simo, and of a talent wip'd his purse ;
Or old Silenus, Bacchus' guard and nurse.
I can out of known geer a fable frame,
And so as every man may hope the same ;
Yet he that offers at it may sweat much,
And toil in vain : the excellence is such
Of order and connexion ; so much grace
There comes sometimes to things of meanest

place.

But let the Fauns, drawn from their groves, be-
ware,

Be I their judge, they do at no time dare,
Like men street-born, and near the hall rehearse
Their youthful tricks in over-wanton verse ;
Or crack out bawdy speeches, and unclean.
The Roman gentry, men of birth and mean,
Will take offence at this : nor though it strike
Him that buys chiches blanch'd, or chance to like
The nut-crackers throughout, will they therefore
Receive or give it an applause the more.
To these succeeded the old comedy,
And not without much praise, till liberty
Fell into fault so far, as now they saw
Her license fit to be restrain'd by law :
VOL. ix. I

114 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETIC A.

Dignam lege regi. Lex est accept a, chor usque
Turpiter obticuit, sublatojure nocendi.

Syllaba longa brevi subject a vocatur Iambus,
Pes citus : unde etiam trimetris accrescere jussit
Nomtn lambeis, cum senos redderet ictus,
Primus ad extremum similis sibi : non itapridem
Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures,
Spondceos stabiles in jura paterna recepit
Commodus, et patiens : non ut de sede secunda
Cedcret, aut quarta socialiter : hie et in Acci
Nobilibus trimetris apparet raniSj et Enni.
In sccenam missos magno cum pondere versus,
Aut operce celeris nimium) curaque carentis,
Aut ignoratce premit artis crimine turpi.
Non quivis videt immodulata poematajudex :
Et data Romanis venia est indigna poetis,
Idcircdne vager, scribamque lictnter ? an omnes
Visuros peccata putem mea ? tutus, et intra
Spem Venice cautus ? vitavi denique culpam,
Non laudem merui. Vos exemplaria Grceca
Nocturnd versate manu, versate diurna.

At nostri proavi Plautinos, et numeros, et
Laudavere sales : nimium patient er utrumquet
Ne dicam stulte, mirati ; si modd ego, et vos
Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto,
Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus, et aure.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 115

Which law receiv'd, the chorus held his peace,
His power of foully hurting made to cease.

Two rests, a short and long, th' Iambic frame ;
A foot, whose swiftness gave the verse the name
Of Trimeter, when yet it was six-.pac'd,
But mere Iambics all, from first to last.
Nor is't long since they did with patience take
Into their birth-right, and for fitness sake,
The steady Spondees ; so themselves do bear
More slow, and come more weighty to the ear:
Provided, ne'er to yield, in any case
Of fellowship, the fourth or second place.
This foot yet, in the famous Trimeters
Of Accius and Ennius, rare appears :
So rare, as with some tax it doth engage
Those heavy verses sent so to the stage,
Of too much haste, and negligence in part,
Or a worse crime, the ignorance of art.
But every judge hath not the faculty
To note in poems breach of harmony ;
And there is given too unworthy leave
To Roman poets. Shall I therefore weave
My verse at random, and licentiously ?
Or rather, thinking all my faults may spy,
Grow a safe writer, and be wary driven
Within the hope of having all forgiven.
'Tis clear this way I have got off from blame,
But, in conclusion, merited no fame.
Take you the Greek examples for your light,
In hand, and turn them over day and night.
Our ancestors did Plautus' numbers praise,
And jests ; and both to admiration raise
Too patiently, that I not fondly say,
If either you or I know the right way
To part scurrility from wit; or can
A lawful verse by th' ear or finger scan

12

116 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETIC A.

Nil intentatum nostri liquere poetce,
Nee minimum merit ere decus, vestigia Grceca
Ausi deserere, ef celebrare domesticafacta :
Vel qui prattxtas, vel qui docuere togatas.

Nee virtutcforet, clarisve potcntius armis,
Quam lingud, Latium, si non offenderct unum-
quemque poetarum limce labor, et mora. Vos> 6
Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non
Multa dies, et multa litura coercuit, atque
Perfectum decies non castigavit ad unguem.
Ingenium misera quiafortunatius arte
Credit, et excludit sanos Helicone poet as
DcmocrituS) bona pars non ungues ponere cur at >
Non barbam ; secreta petit loca, balnea yitat.
Nanciscetur enim pretium, nomenque poetce,
Si tribus Anticyris caput insanabile nunquam
Tonson Licino commiserit. O ego lavus,
Qui purgor bilem sub verni temporis horam.
Non aliusjactret meliora poemata : verum,
Nil tanti est : ergofungar vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quceferrum valet \ exsors ipsa secandi.
Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo ;
Unde parentur opes : quid alatjormetque poet am :

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 117

Our poets too left nought unproved here $
Nor did they merit the less crown to wear,
In daring to forsake the Grecian tracts,
And celebrating our own home- born facts;
Whether the garded tragedy the$ wrought,
Or 'twere the gowned comedy they taught.

Nor had our Italy more glorious been
In virtue, and renown of arms, than in
Her language, if the stay and care t' have

mended,

Had not our every poet like offended.
But you, Pompilius' offspring, spare you npt
To tax that verse, which many a day and blot
Have not kept in ; and (lest perfection fail)
Not ten times o'er corrected to the nail.
Because Democritus believes a wit
Happier than wretched art, and doth by it
Exclude all sober poets from their share
In Helicon ; a great sort will not pare
Their nails, nor shave their beards, but to bye-
paths

Retire themselves, avoid the public baths ;
For so they shall not only gain the worth,
But fame of poets, they think, if they come forth
And from the barber Licinus conceal
Their heads, which three Anticyras cannot heal.

0 I left-witted, that purge every spring
For choler ! if I did not, who could bring
Out better poems ? but I cannot buy

My title at the rate, I'd rather, I,

Be like a whetstone, that an edge can put

On steel, though't self be dull, and cannot cut.

1 writing nought myself, will teach them yet
Their charge and office, whence their wealth to

fet,

What nourisheth, what formed, what begot
The poet, what becometh, and what not,

118 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Quid deceat, quid non : quo virtus, quoferat error

Scribendi recte sapere est et principium etfons.
Rem tlbi Socratica poterunt ostendere chart a :
Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequenttir.
Qui didicit, pat rife quid debeat, et quid amicis :
Quo sit amore par ens, quo f rater amandits, et hospes
Quod sit conscripti, quodjudicis officium : qua
Partes in bellum missi duds, ille project^
Redder e persona scit convenientia cuique.
Respicere exemplar vita, morumque jubebo
Doctum imitator em, et veras hinc ducere voces.
Interdum speciosa locis, morataque recte
Fabula, nullius Feneris, sine ponder e, et arte,
Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur,
Quam versus inopes rerum, nugceque canora.
Gratis ingenium, Gratis dedit ore rot undo
Musa loqui, prater laudem, nullius avaris.
Romani pueri longis rationibus assem
Discunt in paries centum diducere. Dicat
Films Albini, si de quincunce remota est
Uncia, quid superat ? poteras dixisse triens ; eu,
Rem poteris servare tuam : redit uncia : quid Jit f
Semis : ad hac animos arugo, et cura pecutt,

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 119

Whither truth may, and whither error bring.
The very root of writing well, and spring
Is to be wise ; thy matter first to know,
Which the Socratic writings best can show :
And where the matter is provided still,
There words will follow, not against their will.
He that hath studied well the debt, and knows
What to his country, what his friends he owes,
What height of love a parent will fit best,
What brethren, what a stranger, and his guest,
Can tell a statesman's duty, what the arts
And office of a judge are, what the parts
Of a brave chief sent to the wars : he can,
Indeed, give fitting dues to every man.
And I still bid the learned maker look
On life, and manners, and make those his book,
Thence draw forth true expressions. For some-
times,

A poem of no grace, weight, art, in rhymes
With specious places, and being humour'd right,
More strongly takes the people with delight,
And better stays them there than all fine noise
Of verse, mere matterless, and tinkling toys.
The muse not only gave the Greeks a wit,
But a welUcompass'd mouth to utter it.
Being men were covetous of nought, but praise :
Our Roman youths they learn the subtle ways
How to divide into a hundred parts
A pound, or piece, by their long compting arts :
There's Albin's son will say, Subtract an ounce
From the five ounces, what remains ? pronounce
A third of twelve, you may ; four ounces. Glad,
He cries, good boy, thou'lt keep thine own. Now

add
An ounce, what makes it then ? the half-pound

just,
Six ounces. O, when once the canker'd rust.

120 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Cum semel imbuerit, speramus carminajingi
Posse linenda cedro, et lavi servanda cupresso f
Aut prodesse volunt, out deJectare poeta,
Aut simul etjucunda, et idonea dlcere vita.

Sylvestres homines sacer, interpresque deorum,
Cadibus et victufado deter ruit Orpheus,
Dictus ob hoc lenire tigres, rabidosque leones :
Dictus et Amphion, Thebance conditor arcis,
Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda
Ducere quo vellet. Fuit hac sapient la quondam^
Publica privatis secernere, sacra projanis,
Concubitu prohibere vago : dare jura maritis,
Oppida moliri, leges incidere ligno.
Sic honor, et nomen dvoinis vatibus, atque
Carminibus venit ; post hos insignis Homerus,
Tyrtausque mares animos in Martia bella
Versibus exacuit : dicta per carmina sortes,
Et vita monstrata via est, et gratia regum
Pieriis tentata modis, ludusque repertus,
Et longorum operum finis : ne forte pudori
Sit tibi musa lyra solers, et cantor Apollo

Quicquid pracipies esto brevis : ut citd dicta
Percipiant animi dociles, teneantquejideles.
Omne supervacuum pleno de pectore manat.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 121

And care of getting, thus our minds hath stain'd ;
Think we, or hope there can be verses feign'd
In juice of cedar worthy to be steep'd,
And in smooth cypress boxes to be keep'd?
Poets would either profit or delight ;
Or mixing sweet and fit, teach life the right.
Orpheus, a priest, and speaker of the gods,
First frighted men, that wildly liv'd, at odds,
From slaughters, and foul life ; and for the same
Was tigers said, and lions fierce to tame.
Amphion too, that built the Theban towers,
Was said to move the stones by his lute's powers,
And lead them with soft songs, where that he

would.

This was the wisdom that they had of old,
Things sacred from profane to separate ;
The public from the private, to abate
Wild raging lusts; prescribe the marriage good ;
Build towns, and carve the laws in leaves of wood.
And thus at first, an honour, and a name
To divine poets, and their verses came.
Next these, great Homer and Tyrtseus set
On edge the masculine spirits, and did whet
Their minds to wars, and rhymes they did re

hearse ;

The oracles too were given out in verse;
All way of life was shewn ; the grace of kings
Attempted by the muses tunes and strings ;
Plays were found out, and rest, the end and crown
Of their long labours, was in verse set down:
All which I tell, lest when Apollo's nam'd,
Or muse, upon the lyre, thou chance b'asham'd.
Be brief in what thou wouldst command, that

so

The docile mind might soon thy precepts know,
And hold them faithfully ; for nothing rests,
But flows out, that o'erswelleth, in full breasts.

HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Ficta, voluptatis causa, sint proximo, veris.
Nee quodcunque volet, poscat sibij'abula credi :
Neu pransa Lamia vivum puerum txtrahat alvo.
Centuria seniorum agitant expert ia frugis :
Celsi prcetercunt austera poemata Rhamnes.
Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci,
Lectorem delectando, pariterr/ue monendo.
Hie meret am liber Sosiis : hie et mare transit,
Et longum noto scriptori prorogat avum.

Sunt delicta tamen quibus ignovisse velimus.
Nam ncque chorda sonum reddit, qucm vult manus,

et mens,

Poscentique gravem, persccpe remit tit acutum :
Nee semper jeriet, quodcunque minabitur arcus.
Veriim ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis
Offendar maculis, quas aut incuriafudit,
Aut humana parum cavit natura : quid ergo ?
Ut scriptor si peccat idem librarius usque,
Quamvis est monitus, venia caret ; et citharcsdus
llidetur, chorda qui semper oberrat eadem :
Sic mihi, qui multum cessat.Jit Clmrilus ilk,
Quern bis terque bonum cum risu miror ; et idem
Indignor : quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.
Verum opere in longofas est obrepere somnum.
Ut pictura, poesis erit : qua, si propius stes>
Te capiet magis, et quadam, si longius abstes.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 123

Let what thou feign 'st for pleasure's sake, be

near

The truth ; nor let thy fable think whate'er
It would, must be : lest it alive would draw
The child, when Lamia has din'd, out of her maw.
The poems void of profit, our grave men
Cast out by voices ; want they pleasure, then
Our gallants give them none, but pass them by ;
But he hath every suffrage, can apply
Sweet mixt with sour to his reader, so
As doctrine and delight together go.
This book will get the Sosii money; this
Will pass the seas, and long as nature is,
With honour make the far-known author live.

There are yet faults, which we would well

forgive,

For neither doth the string still yield that sound
The hand and mind would, but it will resound
Oft-times a sharp, when we require a flat:
Nor always doth the loosed bow hit that
Which it doth threaten. Therefore, where I see
Much in the poem shine, I will not be
Offended with few spots, which negligence
Hath shed, or human frailty not kept thence,
How then ? why as a scrivener, if h' offend
Still in the same, and warned will not mend,
Deserves no pardon ; or who'd play, and sing
Is laugh'd at, that still jarreth on one string :
So he that flaggeth much, becomes to me
A Cherilus, in whom if I but see
Twice or thrice good, I wonder ; but am more
Angry. Sometimes I hear good Homer snore ;
But I confess, that in a long work, sleep
May, with some right, upon an author creep.

As painting, so is poesy. Some man's hand
Will take you more, the nearer that you stand;

124 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETIC A.

Hac amat obscurum : volet hcec sub luce videri,
Judicis argutum quce nonformidat acumen.
Hcec placuit semel : hac decies repetita placebit.

O major j we enum, quamvis, et voce paterna
Fingeris ad rectum, et per te sapis, hoc tibi dictum
Tolle memor : certis medium, et tolerabile rebus
Recte concedi : consult us juris, et actor
Causarum mediocris, abest virtute diserti
Messalce, nee scit quantum Cascellius Aulus :
Sed tamen in pretio est. Mediocribus esse poetis
Non homines, non di, non concessere columnar.

Ut gratas inter mensas symphonia discors,
Et crassum unguentum, et Sardo cum melle papaver,
Offendunt ; poterat duci quia ccena sine istis :
Sic animis natum iiwentumque poemajuvandis,
Si paulum a summo discessit, vergit ad imum.

Ludere qui nescit, campestribus abstinet armis,
Indoctusque pila discive, trochive, quiescit,
Ne spissce risum tollant impune corona.
Qui nescit, versus tamen audetjingere ; quid ni f
Liber, et ingenuus, prasertim census equestrem
Summam nummorum, vitioque ; remotus ab omni.
Tu nihil invitd dices, faciesve Minervd.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 125

As some the farther off; this loves the dark ;
This fearing not the subtlest judge's mark,
Will in the light be view'd : this once the sight
Doth please, this ten times over will delight.

You, sir, the elder brother, though you are
Informed rightly, by your father's care,
And of yourself too understand; yet mind
This saying: to some things there is assigned
A mean, and toleration, which does well :
There may a lawyer be, may not excel ;
Or pleader at the bar, that may come short
Of eloquent Messala's power in court,
Or knows not what Cacellius Aulus can;
Yet there's a value given to this man.
But neither men, nor gods, nor pillars meant,
Poets should ever be indifferent.

As jarring music doth at jolly feasts,
Or thick gross ointment but offend the guests:
As poppy, and Sardan honey ; 'cause without
These, the free meal might have been well drawn

out :

So any poem, fancied, or forth-brought
To bett'ring of the mind of man, in aught,
If ne'er so little it depart the first
And highest, sinketh to the lowest and worst.

He that not knows the games, nor how to use
His arms in Mars his field, he doth refuse ;
Or who's unskilful at the coit, or ball,
Or trundling wheel, he can sit still from all;
Lest the throng'd heaps should on a laughter

take :

Yet who's most ignorant, dares verses make^
Why not? I'm gentle, and free born, do hate
Vice, and am known to have a knight's estate.
Thou, such thy judgment is, thy knowledge too,
Wilt nothing against nature speak or do;

126 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETIC A.

Id tibi judicium est, ea mens, si quid tamen olim

Scripseris, in Meti descendat judicis aures,

Et patris, et nostras, nonumque prematur in annum*

Membranis intus positis delere licebit,

Quod non edideris. Nescit vox rnissa reverti.

Natur&jieret laudabile carmen, an arfe,
Qucesitum est : ego nee studium sine divite vena,
Nee rude quid prosit video ingenium ; alterius sic
Alter a poscit opem^res, et conjurat amice.

Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam,
Multa tulit fecitque puer : sudavit, et alsit,
Abstinuit Vemre, et vino : qui Pythica cantat
Tibicen, didicit prius, extlmuitque magistrum.
Nunc satis est dlrisse, Ego mira poemata pango :
Occupet extremum scabies, mihi turpe relinqui est,
Et quod non didici, sane nescirefateri.

Ut praco ad merces turbam qui cogit emendas,
Adsentatores jubet ad lucrum ire poet a
Dives agris} dives positis* in fcenore nummis.
Si verd est, unctum qui recte ponere possit,
Et spondere levi pro paupere, et eripere atris
Litibus implicitum ; mirabor, si sciet inter-
noscere mendacem verumque beatus amicum.
Tu seu donaris, seu quid donare voles cui,

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 127

But if hereafter thou shalt write, not fear
To send it to be judg'd by Metius' ear,
And to your father's, and to mine, though't be
Nine years kept in, your papers by, yo' are free
To change and mend, what you not forth do set.
The writ, once out, never returned yet.

Tis now inquir'd which makes the nobler

verse,

Nature, or art. My judgment will not pierce
Into the profits, what a mere rude brain
Can ; nor all toil, without a wealthy vein :
So doth the one the other's help require,
And friendly should unto one end conspire.

He that's ambitious in the race to touch
The wished goal, both did, and suifer'd much
While he was young; he sweat, and freez'd

again,

And both from wine and women did abstain.
Who since to sing the Pythian rites is heard,
Did learn them first, and once a master fear'd.
But now it is enough to say, I make
An admirable verse. The great scurf take
Him that is last, I scorn to come behind,
Or of the things that ne'er came in my mind
To say, I'm ignorant. Just as a crier
That to the sale of wares calls every buyer ;
So doth the poet, who is rich in land,
Or great in moneys out at use, command
His flatterers to their gain. But say, he can
Make a great supper, or for some poor man
Will be a surety, or can help him out
Of an entangling suit, and bring't about :
I wonder how this happy man should know,
Whether his soothing friend speak truth or no.
But you, my Piso, carefully beware
(Whether yo'are given to, or giver are)

128 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETIC A.

Nolito ad verms tibifactos ducere plenum
Lcetitia : clamabit enim, Pulchre, bene, recte.
Pallesdt super his : etiam stillabit amids
Ex oculis rorem, saliet, tundet pede terram.
Ut qui conducti plorant injunere, dicunt,
Etjadunt prope plura dolentibus ex ammo : sic
Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur.

Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis,
Et torquere mero, quern perspexisse labor ent.
An sit amidtid dignus : si carwina condes,
Nunquam tefallant animl sub vulpe latentes.

Quintilio, si quid redtares, corrige, sodes,
Hoc, aiebat, et hoc : melius te posse negares,
Bis, terque expert umfrustr a ; delerejubebat,
Et male tornatos incudi reddere versus,
Si defendere detictum, quam vertere malles,
Nullum ultra verbum, aut operam sumebat inanem,
Quin sine rivali teque et tua solus amares.

Vir bonus et prudens. versus reprehendit inertes,
Culpabit duros, incomptis allinet atrum
Transverso calamo signum, ambitiosa recidet
Ornamenta, parum dans lucem dare coget :
Argue t ambigue dictum, mutanda not obit :
Fiet Aristarchus, nee dicet, Cur ego amicum

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 129

You do not bring to judge your verses, one,
With joy of what is given him, over-gone :
For he'll cry, Good, brave, better, excellent !
Look pale, distil a shower (was never meant)
Out at his friendly eyes, leap, beat the groun',
As those that hir'd to weep at funerals swoon,
Cry, and do more to the true mourners : so
The scoffer the true praiser doth out-go.

Rich men are said with many cups to ply,
And rack with wine the man whom they would

try,

If of their friendship he be worthy or no :
When you write verses, with your judge do so :
Look through him, and be sure you take not

mocks
For praises, where the mind conceals a fox.

If to Quintilius you recited aught,
He'd say, Mend this, good friend, and this; 'tis

naught.

If you denied you had no better strain,
And twice or thrice had 'ssay'd it, still in vain :
He'd bid blot all, and to the anvil bring
Those ill-torn'd verses to new hammering.
Then if your fault you rather had defend
Than change ; no word or work more would he

spend

In vain, but you and yours you should love still
Alone, without a rival, by his will.

A wise and honest man will cry out shame
On artless verse ; the hard ones he will blame,
Blot out the careless with his turned pen ;
Cut off superfluous ornaments, and when
They're dark, bid clear this : all that's doubtful

wrote

Reprove, and what is to be changed note ;
Become an Aristarchus. And not say
Why should I grieve my friend this trifling way ?
VOL. ix. K

130 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Offendam in nugis ? ha nuga seria ducent
In mala, semel derisum, exceptumque sinistrL

Ut mala quern scabies, aut morbus regius urget,
Autfanaticus error, et iracunda Diana,
Vesanum tetigisse timent,fugiuntque poetam,
Qui sapiunt : agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur.
Hie dum sublimes versus ructatur, et err at ;
Si veluti merulis intent us decidit auceps
In puteum, foveamve, licet Succurrite, longum
Clamet Id ewes ! non sit qui tollere curet.
Si quis curet opemferre, et demitterefunem.
Qui scis, an prudens hue se dejecerit, atque
Servari nolit ? dicam, Siculique poet a
Narrabo interitum. Deus immortalis haberi
Dum cupit Empedocles, ardentemfrigidus JEtnam
Insiluit. Sit jus, liceatque perire poctis.
Invitum qui servat, idemjacit occidenti.
Nee semel hoc fecit : nee si retractus erit, jam
Fiet homo : et ponetfamosa mortis amorem.

Nee satis apparet, cur versus factitet : utrum
Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental
Moverit incestus : certbfurit, ac, velut urms,

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 131

These trifles into serious mischiefs lead
The man once mock'd, and suffer'd wrong to
tread.

Wise sober folk a frantic poet fear ;
And shun to touch him, as a man that were
Infected with the leprosy, or had
The yellow jaundice, or were furious mad,
According to the moon. But then the boys
They vex, and follow him with shouts and

noise;

The while he belcheth lofty verses out,
And stalketh, like a fowler, round about,
Busy to catch a black-bird, if he fall
Into a pit or hole, although he call
And cry aloud, Help, gentle countrymen !
There's none will take the care to help him then ;
For if one should, and with a rope make haste
To let it down, who knows if he did cast
Himself there purposely or no, and would
Not thence be sav'd, although indeed he could?
I'll tell you but the death and the disease
Of the Sicilian poet Empedoclcs :
He, while he labour'd to be thought a god
Immortal, took a melancholic, odd
Conceit, and into burning JEtna leapt.
Let poets perish, that will not be kept.
He that preserves a man against his will,
Doth the same thing with him that would him

kill.

Nor did he do this once ; for if you can
Recall him yet, he'd be no more a man,
Or love of this so famous death lay by.

His cause of making verses none knows why,
Whether he piss'd upon his father's grave,
Or the sad thunder-stroken thing he have
Defiled, touch'd; but certain he was mad,
And as a bear, if he the strength but had

K2

132 HORATIUS DE ARTE POETICA.

Objectos cavea valuit sifrangere clatkros,
Indoctum doctumque fugat r eat at or acerbus.
Quern verd arripuit, tenet occiditque legendo,
Non missura cutem nisi plena cruoris hirudo.

HORACE OF THE ART OF POETRY. 133

To force the grates that hold him in, would

fright

All: so this grievous writer puts to flight
Learn'd and unlearn'd, holding whom once he

takes,

And there an end of him reciting makes ;
Not letting go his hold, where he draws food,
Till he drop off, a horse-leech, full of blood.

134 UNDERWOODS.

HORAT. OD. LIB. V. OD. II.
VITJE RUSTICJE LAUDES.

Beatus ille^ qui procul negotiis,

Ut prise a gens mortal ium,
Paterna rura bobus exercet suis>

Solutus omnifanore :
Nee excitatur classico miles truci,

Nee horret iratum mare :
Forumque vital, et superba civium

Potentiorum limina.
Ergo aut adulta vitium propagine

Alias marital populos :
Inutile sque f alee ramos amputans,

Feliciores inseret :
Aut in reducla valle mugientium

Prospectat errantes greges :
Aut pressa puris mella condit amphoris,

Aut tondet infirmas oves :
Vd cum decorum mitibus pomis caput

Autumnus arris extulit :
Ut gaudet insitiva decerpens pyra,

Certanlem et uvam purpura,
Qua muneretur te, Priape, et te, pater

Sylvane^ tutor jinium !

* Beatus ille, &c.] This Ode seems to have been a peculiar
favourite with the poets of our author's age. It is translated
by sir John Beaumont, Randolph and others ; but by none of
them with much success. Denham had not yet propagated his
manly and judicious sentiments on translation, and the grace and

UNDERWOODS. 135

THE

PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE.

Happy is he, that from all business clear,

As the old race of mankind were,
With his own oxen tills his sire's left lands,

And is not in the usurer's bands :
Nor soldier-like, started with rough alarms,

Nor dreads the sea's enraged harms :
But flies the bar and courts, with the proud boards,

And waiting-chambers of great lords.
The poplar tall he then doth marrying twine

With the grown issue of the vine ;
And with his hook lops off the fruitless race,

And sets more happy in the place :
Or in the bending vale beholds afar

The lowing herds there grazing are :
Or the prest honey in pure pots doth keep

Of earth, and shears the tender sheep :
Or when that autumn through the fields lifts round

His head, with mellow apples crown'd,
How plucking pears, his own hand grafted had,

And purple-matching grapes, he's glad !
With which, Priapus, he may thank thy hands,

And, Sylvan, thine, that kept'st his lands !

freedom of poetry were sacrificed by almost general consent to a
strict and rigid fidelity. As these versions have no date, it is
not possible to say whether they were the exercises of the
school-boy or the productions of riper age. None of them were
committed to the press by the poet.

136 UNDERWOODS.

Libetjacere modo sub antiqua ilice ;

Modo in tenaci gramine.
Labuntur altis interim ripis aqua :

Queruntur in sylvis aves,
Fontesque lymphis obstrepunt manantibus,

Somnos quod invitet leves.
At cum tonentis annus hibernus Jovis

Imbres nivesque comparat ;
Aut trudit acres hinc, el hinc multa cane

Apr os in obst antes plagas :
Aut amite levi rara tendit retia ;

Turdis edacibus dolos ;
Pavidumque lefrorem, ei advenam laqueo gruem,

Jucunda captat pramia :
Quis non malar urn, quas amor cur as habtt,

Hac inter obliviscitur ?
Qudd si pudica mulier in partemjuvet

Domum, atque dukes liber os,
(Sabina quails^ aut perusta solibus

Pemicis uxor Appuli
Sacrum vestusti extruat lignisfocum

Lassi sub adventum ririj
Claudensque textis cratibus latum pecus

Distenla siccet ubera ;
Et horna dulci vina promens dolio

Dapes inemptas apparet ;
JVon me Lucrina juverint conchyliay

Magisve rhombus^ aut scari
Si quos Eois intonata fluctibus

Hyems ad hoc verlat mare :
Non Afra avis descendat in ventrem meum ;

Non attagen lonicus
Jucundioiy quam lecta de pinguissimis

Oliva i amis arborum :
Aut herba lapathi prata amantis, et gravi

Malva salubres corpori ;

UNDERWOODS. 137

Then now beneath some ancient oak he may

Now in the rooted grass him lay,
Whilst from the higher hanks do slide the floods ;

The soft birds quarrel in the woods,
The fountains murmur as the streams do creep,

And all invite to easy sleep.
Then when the thuud'ring Jove, his snow and
showers

Are gathering by the wintry hours :
Or hence, or thence, he drives with many abound

Wild boars into his toils pitch'd round:
Or strains on his small fork his subtle nets

For th' eating thrush, or pit-falls sets :
And snares the fearful hare, and new-come crane,

And 'counts them sweet rewards so ta'en.
Who amongst these delights, would not forget

Love's cares so evil and so great ?
But if, to boot with these, a chaste wife meet

For household aid, and children sweet;
Such as the Sabines, or a sun-burnt blowse,

Some lusty quick Apulian's spouse,
To deck the hallow'd hearth with old wood fired

Against the husband comes home tired ;
That penning the glad flock in hurdles by,

Their swelling udders doth draw dry :
And from the sweet tub wine of this year takes,

And unbought viands ready makes.
Not Lucrine oysters I could then more prize,

Nor turbot, nor bright golden-eyes :
If with bright floods, the winter troubled much,

Into our seas send any such :
The Ionian godwit, nor the ginny-hen

Could not go down my belly then
More sweet than olives, that new-gather'd be

From fattest branches of the tree :
Or the herb sorrel, that loves meadows still,

Or mallows loosing bodies ill :

138 UNDERWOODS.

Vel agnafestis casa terminalibus :

Vel hadus ereptus lupo.
Has Inter epulas, utjuvat pastas ores

Videre proper anteis domum I
Videre fessos vomerem inversum bores

Collo trahenles languido !
Positosque vernas^ ditls examen domus,

Circum renidentes lares !
H<ec ubi locutus f Generator Alphius,

J am jam futurus rusticus,
Omnem relegit idibus pecuniam ;

Qjiarit calendis ponere.

UNDERWOODS. 139

Or at the feast of bounds, the lamb then slain,

Or kid forc'd from the wolf again,
Among these cates how glad the sight doth come

Of the fed flocks approaching home :
To view the weary oxen draw, with bare

And fainting necks, the turned share !
The wealthy household swarm of bondmen met,

And 'bout the steaming chimney set !
These thoughts when usurer Alphius, now about

To turn mere farmer, had spoke out ;
'Gainst the ides, his moneys he gets in with pain,

At the calends puts all out again.

140 UNDERWOODS.

HORACE, ODE I. LIB, IV.
AD VENEREM.

Inlermissa Venus diu,

Rursus bella moves : parce precoryprecor
JVon sum qualis eram bon&

Sub regno Cynara : desine dulcium
Mater sava Cupidinum,

Circa lustra decem fleeter e mollibus
Jam durum imperils : abi

Qud blanda juvenum te revocant preces.
Tempestivius in domo

Pauli purpureis ales oloribus,
Comessabere Maximi,

Si torrere jecur quaris idoneum.
Namque el nobilis, tt decensy

Et pro solicitis non tacitus reis.
Et centum puer artium,

Late signajeret militia tua.
Et quandoque potentior

Largi muneribus riserit amuli,
Albanos prope te lacus

Ponet marmoream sub trabe cyprea.
Illic plurima naribus

Duces tura, lyraque, et BerecynthiA
Delectab're tibia

Mistis carminibus non sinejistula.
Illic bis pueri die,

JVumen cum teneris virginibus tuum
Laudantes^pede candido

In morem Salium ter quatient humum.
Me necfamina nee puer

Jam, nee spes animi credula mutui.

UNDERWOODS. 141

ODE I. BOOK IV.

To VENUS.

Venus, again them mov'st a war

Long intermitted, pray thee, pray thee spare :
I am not such, as in the reign

Of the good Cyriara I was: refrain
Sour mother of sweet Loves, forbear

To bend a man now at his fiftieth year
Too stubborn for commands so slack :

Go where youth's.soft entreaties call thee back.
More timely hie thee to the house,

With thy bright swans, of Paulus Maximus :
There jest and feast, make him thine host,

If a fit liver thou dost seek to toast;
For he's both noble, lovely, young,

And for the troubled client fills his tongue :
Child of a hundred arts, and far

Will he display the ensigns of thy war.
And when he smiling finds his grace

With thee 'bove all his rivals' gifts take place,
He'll thee a marble statue make

Beneath a sweet-wood roof near Alba lake,
There shall thy dainty nostril take

In many a gum, and for thy soft ears' sake
Shall verse be set to harp and lute,

And Phrygian hau'boy, not without the flute.
There twice a day in sacred lays,

The youths and tender maids shall sing thy

praise :
And in the Salian manner meet

Thrice 'bout thy altar with their ivory feet.
Me now, nor wench, nor wanton boy,

Delights, nor credulous hope of mutual joy ;

142 UNDERWOODS.

Nee certare juval mero :

JVec vincire novis temporafloribus.
Sed cur, heu ! Ligurine, cur

Manat rara meas lachryma per genas ?
Cur Jacunda parum decor o

Inter verba cadit lingua silentio ?
Nocturnis te ego somuiis

Jam captum teneo.jam volucrem sequor :
Te per gramma Martii

Campi) te per aquas, dure, volubiles.

ODE IX. LIB. III. AD LYDIAM.

DlALOGUS HORATII ET

Hor. Donee grains eram tibi?

Nee quisquam potior brachia candidce

Cervicijuvenis dabat ;
Ptrsarum vigui rege beatior.

Lyd. Donee non alia magis

Arsisti, nequ£ erat Lydia post Ckloen,

Mul'ti Lydia nominis
Romana vigui clarior Ilia.

Hor. Me nunc Thressa Chloe regif,

Dulces docta modos, et cithara sciens :

Pro qua non metuam mori,
Si pareent animafata super stiti>

* Donee grains^ &c.] This little piece has always been a fa-
vourite. Granger, whose knowledge of our old writers did not
extend much beyond their portraits, tells us that the first En-
glish version of this Ode was made by Herrick. The Hesperides
were not published till 1648, and to say nothing of the trans-

UNDERWOODS. 143

Nor care I now healths to propound,

Or with fresh flowers to girt my temple round.
But why, oh why, my Ligurine,

Flow my thin tears down these pale cheeks of
mine ? ^

Or why my well-grac'd words among,

With an uncomely silence fails my tongue?
Hard-hearted, I dream every night

I hold thee fast ! but fled hence, with the light,
Whether in Mars his field thou be,

Or Tyber's winding streams, I follow thee.

ODE IX. BOOK III. TO LYDIA.
DIALOGUE OF HORACE AND LYDIA.

Hor. Whilst, Lydia, I was lov'd of thee,

And'bout thy ivory necknoyouth didfling

His arms more acceptably free,
I thought me richer than the Persian king.

Lyd. Whilst Horace lov'd no mistress more,
Nor after Chloe did his Lydia sound ;

In name, I went all names before,
The Roman Ilia was not more renown'd.

Hor. 'Tis true, I'm Thracian Chloe's, I,

Who sings so sweet, and with such cunning

plays,

As, for her, Fid not fear to die,
Sofate would gi veherlife, and longer days,

lation before us, a dozen, perhaps, had appeared before that pe-
riod. I have one by Francis Davison as early as 1608, but nei-
ther is this the first :— the matter however, is of no great moment.

J44 UNDERWOODS.

Lyd. Me tor ret face mutua

Thurini Calais filius Ornitki :

Pro quo his patiar mori,
Si par cent puero fata super stiti.

Hor. Quid si prisca redit Venus,

Diductosfjue jugo cogit aheiuo ?

Si flava excutiiur Chtoe
Rejectaque paletjanua Lydia?

Ljd. Quamauam sidere pulchrior

Hie est, tu levior cortice, et improbo

Iracundior Adr\ay
Tecum vwere amem> tecum obeam libem*

UNDERWOODS.

14

Lyd. And I am mutually on fire

With gentle Calais, Thurine Ornith's son,

For whom I doubly would expire,
So fate would let the boy a long thread run.

Hor* But say old love return should make,
And us disjoined force to her brazen yoke ;

That I bright Chloe off should shake,
And to left Lydia, now the gate stood ope?

Lyd. Though he be fairer than a star;

Thou lighter than the bark of any tree,

And than rough Adria angrier far;
Yet would I wish to love, live, die with
thee.

VOL. IX*

146 UNDERWOODS.

FRAGMENTUM PETRON. ARBITII.

Foeda est in coitu, et brevis voluptas,

Et tadet Generis statim peract*.

Non ergo ut petudes libidinosa,

Cceci protinus irruamus illuc :

Nam languescit amor peritque flamma,

Sed sic, sic, sine fine feriati,

Et tecum jaceamus osculantes :

Hie nullus labor est, ruborque nullus ;

Hoc juvit, jurat, et diujuvabit :

Hoc non dejicit, incipitque semper.

EPIGRAMMA MARTIALIS, Lib. viii, ep. 77.

Liber , antic or um dulcissima cur a tuorum,
Liber in alerna vivere digne rosd;

Si sapis, Assyria semper tibi crinis amomo
Splendeat, ei cingant florea serta caput :

Candida nigrescant vetulo crystalla Falerno,
Et caleat blando mollis amore thorus-
i sic> vel mzdiojinitus vixil in avo,
Longior huic facia est, quam data vitafuit.

UNDERWOODS. 147

FRAGMENT OF PETRON. ARBITER TRANSLATED.

Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short ;

And done, we straight repent us of the sport :

Let us not then rush blindly on unto it,

Like lustful beasts that only know to do it :

For lust will languish, and that heat decay.

But thus, thus, keeping endless holiday,

Let us together closely lie and kiss,

There is no labour, nor no shame in this ;

This hath pleas'd, doth please, and long will

please; never
Can this decay, but is beginning ever.

EPIGRAM OF MARTIAL, viii. 77- TRANSLATED.

Liber, of all thy friends, thou sweetest care,3
Thou worthy in eternal flower to fare,

If thou be'st wise, with Syrian oil let shine
Thy locks, and rosy garlands crown thy head ;

Dark thy clear glass with old Falernian wine,
And heat with softest love thy softer bed.

He, that but living half his days, dies such,

Makes his life longer than 'twas given him, much.

* Liber, of all thy friends, &c.] This must be exempted from
what in the Life of Dryden, are called the u jaw-breaking trans-
lations of Ben Jonson." It is, in fact, the most beautiful of all
the versions of this elegant poem. Though it numbers only line
for line with the original, it clearly and fully expresses the
vhole of its meaning, and is besides, spirited and graceful in a
high degree. It unfortunately escaped the researches of Htird,

S Y L V A.

Reruni, et sententiarum^ quasi"TChy dicta a multiplici
materiel^ et varietate^ in Us contenta. Quemadmodum
enim vulgd solemus infinitam arborum nascentium in-
discriminatim multitudinem Sylvam dicer* : itti etiam
libros suos in quibus varia et diverse mdteria opuscula
temere congesta erant, Sylras appcllabant antiqui,
Timber-trees.

TIMBER:

OR

DISCOVERIES

MADE UPON

MEN AND MATTER.

AS THEY HAVE FLOWED
OUT OF HIS DAILY READINGS ;

OR HAD THEIR REFLUX
TO HIS PECULIAR NOTION OF THE TIMES

Tecum habita^ ut noris quam sit tibi curta supellex.

PERS. Sat. 4.

DISCOVERIES.] From the fol. 1641. These are among " the
last drops of Jonson's quill." A few occasional remarks of an
early date may, perhaps, be found here; but there is internal
evidence that the greater number of them were made subse-
quently to 1 630, when he was prest by extremities^ and struggling
with want and disease/or breath.

Those who derive all their knowledge of Jonson from the
commentators on Shakspeare, will not (if they should conde-
scend to open these pages,) be unprofitably employed in com-
paring the manly tone, the strong sense, the solid judgment,
the extensive learning, the compressed yet pure and classical
diction of the declining poet, with the dull, cold, jejune,
pompous and parasitical pedantry of Kurd and others, whom
they have been called on to admire, principally, as it should
seem, for the supercilious and captious nature of their criticisms
on his labours.

E X P L O R ATA

Oil

DISCOVERIES.

Fortuna. — 111 fortune never crush'd that man,
whom good fortune deceived not. I therefore
have counselled my friends, never to trust to
her fairer side, though she seemed to make peace
with them : but to place all things she gave
them, so as she might ask them again without
their trouble; she might take them from them,
not pull them ; to keep always a distance between
her, and themselves. He knows not his own
strength, that hath not met adversity. Heaven
prepares good men with crosses ; but no ill can
happen to a good man. Contraries are not mixed.
Yet, that which happens to any man, may to
every man. But it is in his reason what he ac-
counts it, and will make it.

Casus. — Change into extremity is very fre-
quent, and easy. As when a beggar suddenly
grows rich, he commonly becomes a prodigal ;
for to obscure his former obscurity, he puts on
riot and excess.

Consilia. — No man is so foolish, but may give

1 52 DISCOVERIES.

another good counsel sometimes ; and no man
is so wise, but may easily err, if he will take no
others counsel, but his own. But very few men
are wise by their own counsel ; or learned by
their own teaching. For he that was only taught
by himself,* had a fool to his master.

Fama. — A Fame that is wounded to the world,
would be better cured by another's apology, than
its own : for few can apply medicines well them-
selves. Besides, the man that is once hated, both
his good, and his evil deeds oppress him. He is
not easily emergent.

Negotia.—ln great affairs it is a work of diffi-
culty to please all. And oft-times we lose the
occasion of carrying a business well, and tho-
roughly, by our too much haste. For passions
are spiritual rebels, and raise sedition against
the understanding.

Amor P atria. — There is a necessity all men
should love their country : he that professeth
the contrary, may be delighted with his words,
but his heart is there.

•

Ingenia. — Natures that are hardened to evil
you shall sooner break, than make straight; they
are like poles that are crooked and dry; there
is no attempting them.

Applausus. — We praise the things we
with much more willingness, than those we see ;
because we envy the present, and reverence the
past ; thinking ourselves instructed by the one,
and over- laid by the other.

DISCOVERIES. 153

Opinio. — Opinion is a light, vain, crude, and
imperfect thing, settled in the imagination ; but
never arriving at the understanding, there to
obtain the tincture of reason. We labour with
it more than truth There is much more holds
us, than presseth us. An ill fact is one thing, an
ill fortune is another: yet both oftentimes sway
us alike, by the error of our thinking.

Impostura. — Many men believe not themselves,
what they would persuade others ; and less do
the things, which they would impose on others :
but least of all, know what they themselves most
confidently boast. Only they set the sign of the
cross over their outer doors, and sacrifice to
their gut and their groin in their inner closets.

Jactura vita* — What a deal of cold business
doth a man mispend the better part of life in !
in scattering compliments, tendering visits, ga-
thering and venting news, following feasts and
plays, making a little winter-love in a dark
corner.

Hypocrita — Puritanus hypocrita est harcticus,
quern opinio propria perspicacia, qua sibi videtur, cum
panels in ecclesid dogmatibus, errores quosdam ani-
madvertisse, de statu mentis deturbavit : unde sacro
furore percitus, phrtnetice pugnat contra magistra-
tus, sic ratus obedientiam prastare Deo.

Mutua auxilia. — Learning needs rest : sove-
reignty gives it. Sovereignty needs counsel :
learning affords it. There is such a consociation
of offices, between the prince and whom his
favour breeds, that they may help to sustain his
power, as he their knowledge. It is the greatest

154 DISCOVERIES.

part of his liberality, his favour : and from whom
doth he hear discipline more willingly, or the
arts discours'd more gladly, than from those
whom his own bounty, and benefits have made
able and faithful ?

Cognit. univers. — In being able to counsel
others, a man must be furnished with an universal
store in himself, to the knowledge of all nature:
that is the matter, and seed plot ; there are the
seats of all argument, and invention. But espe-
cially you must be cunning in the nature of man:
there is the variety of things which are as the
elements, and letters, which his art and wisdom
must rank, and order to the present occasion.
For we see not all letters in single words ; nor
all places in particular discourses. That cause
seldom happens, wherein a man will use all ar-
guments.

Consiliarii adjunct. Probitas, Sapient la. — The
two chief things that give a man reputation in
counsel, are the opinion of his honesty, and the
opinion of his wisdom : the authority of those
two will persuade, when the same counsels ut-
tered by other persons less qualified, are of no
efficacy, or working.

Vita recta. — Wisdom without honesty is mere
craft, and cozenage. And therefore the reputation
of honesty must first be gotten ; which cannot
be but by living well. A good life is a main
argument.

Obsequentia. — Humamtas* — Solicitudo. — Next a
good life, to beget love in the persons we coun-
sel, by dissembling our knowledge of ability in

DISCOVERIES. 155

ourselves, andavoiding all suspicion of arrogance,
ascribing all to their instruction, as an ambas-
sador to his master, or a subject to his sovereign ;
seasoning all with humanity and sweetness, only
expressing care and solicitude. And not to coun-
sel rashly, or on the sudden, but with advice
and meditation : (Dat nox consilium .) Formany
foolish things fall from wise men, if they speak
in haste, or be extemporal. It therefore behoves
the giver of counsel to be circumspect ; espe-
cially to beware of those, with whom he is not
thoroughly acquainted, lest any spice of rashness,
folly, or self-love appear, which will be marked
by new persons, and men of experience in affairs.

Modes tia. — Parrhesia. — And to the prince, or
his superior, to behave himself modestly, and
with respect. Yet free from flattery, or empire.
Not with insolence, or precept ; but as the prince
were already furnished with the parts he should
have, especially in affairs of state For in other
things they will more easily suffer themselves
to be taught, or reprehended : they will not
willingly contend. But hear (with Alexander)
the answer the musician gave him, Absit, 6 rev,
ut tu mdius hac scias, quhm ego.*

Perspicuitas. — E leg an tia. — A man should so
deliver himself to the nature of the subject
whereof he speaks, that his hearer may take
knowledge of his discipline with some delight:
and so apparel fair and good matter, that the
studious of elegancy be not defrauded ; redeem
arts from their rough and brakey seats, where
they lay hid, and overgrown with thorns, to a

b Plutarch in vita Alex.

156 DISCOVERIES.

pure, open, and flowery light ; where they may
take the eye, and be taken by the hand.

Natura non effceta. — I cannot think Nature is
so spent and decayed, that she can bring forth
nothing worth her former years. She is always
the same, like herself; and when she collects
her strength, is abler still. Men are decayed, and
studies : she is not.

Non nimium credendum antiquitati. — I know-
nothing can conduce more to letters, than to
examine the writings of the ancients, and not
to rest in their sole authority, or take all upon
trust from them ; provided the plagues of judg-
ing and pronouncing against them be away;
such as are envy, bitterness, precipitation, im-
pudence, and scurril scoffing. For to all the ob-
servations of the ancients, we have our own ex-
perience ; which if we will use, and apply, we
have better means to pronounce. It is true they
opened the gates, and made the way that went
before us ; but as guides, not commanders ;
Non domini nostri, sed ducesfulre. Truth lies open
to all ; it is no man's several. Patet omnibus ve-
ritas ; nondum est occupata. Multum ex Hid, etiam
futuris relicta est.

Dissentire licet , sed cum ratione. — If in some
things I dissent from others, whose wit, industry,
diligence, and judgment I look up at, and ad-
mire; let me not therefore hear presently of
ingratitude, and rashness. For I thank those
that have taught me, and will ever : but yet
dare not think the scope of their labour and in-
quiry was to envy their posterity, what they
also could add, and find out.

DISCOVERIES. 157

Non mihi credendumsedveritatL — If I err, pardon
me : Nulla ars simul et invent a est, et absolute I do
not desire to be equal to those that went before;
but to have my reason examined with theirs,
and so much faith to be given them, or me, as
those shall evict. I am neither author nor fautor
of any sect. I will have no man addict himself
to me ; but if I have any thing right, defend it
as Truth's, not mine, save as it conduceth to a
common good. It profits not me to have any
man fence or fight for me, to flourish, or take my
side. Stand for Truth, and 'tis enough.

Scientitz liberates. — Arts that respect the mind,
were ever reputed nobler than those that serve
the body : though we less can be without them.
As tillage, spinning, weaving, building, &c.
without which, we could scarce sustain life a
day. But these were the works of every hand ;
the other of the brain only, and those the most
generous and exalted wits and spirits, that cannot
rest, or acquiesce. The mind of man is still fed
with labour: Opere pascitur.

Non vulgi sunt. — There is a more secret cause :
and the power of liberal studies lies more hid,
than that it can be wrought out by profane wits.
It is not every man's way to hit. They are men,
I confess, that see the caract, and value upon
things, as they love them ; but science is not
every man's mistress. It is as great a spite to be
praised in the wrong place, and by a wrong
person, as can be done to a noble nature.

Honest a ambit io.~— If divers men seek fame or
honour by divers ways ; so both be honest,
neither is to be blamed: but they that seek

158 DISCOVERIES.

immortality, are not only worthy of love, but of
praise.

Marit-us improbus. — He hath a delicate wife, a
fair fortune, and family to go to be welcome;
yet he had rather be drunk with mine host, and
the fiddlers of such a town, than go home.

Afflictio pia magistru.. — Affliction teacheth a
wicked person some time to pray: prosperity
never.

Deploratis Jacilis des census Averni* — The devil
take alL — Many might go to heaven with half
the labour they go to hell, if they would ven-
ture their industry the right way : but the devil
take all (quoth he) that was choak'd in the mill-
dam, with his four last words in his mouth.

Aegidius cursu superat. — A cripple in the way
out-travels a footman, or a post out of the way.

Prodigo nummi nauci. — Bags of money to a
prodigal person, are the same that cherry-stones
are with some boys, and so thrown away.

Munda et sordida. — A woman, the more curious
she is about her face, is commonly the more
careless about her house.

Debitum deploratum. — Of this spilt water, there
is a little to be gathered up : it is a desperate
debt.

Latro sesquipedalis. — The thief c that had a
longing at the gallows to commit one robbery
more, before he was hanged.

c With a great belly.

DISCOVERIES. 159

And like the German lord,d when he went out
of Newgate into the cart, took order to have his
arms set up in his last herborough : said he
was taken, and committed upon suspicion of
treason ; no witness appearing against him ; but
the judges entertained him most civilly, dis-
coursed with him, offered him the courtesy of
the rack ; but he confessed, &c.

Caluvnnia fructus. — I am beholden to calumny,
that she hath so endeavoured, and taken pains
to belie me. It shall make me set a surer guard
on myself, and keep a better watch upon my
actions.

Imper linens. — A tedious person is one a man
would leap a steeple from, gallop down any steep
hill to avoid him ; forsake his meat, sleep, nature
itself, with all her benefits, to shun him. A mere
impertinent : one that touched neither heaven
nor earth in his discourse. He opened an entry
into a fair room, but shut it again presently. I
spake to him of garlic, he answered asparagus :
consulted him of marriage, he tells me of hang-
ing, as if they went by one and the same destiny.

Bellum Scribentiwn. — What a sight it is to see
writers committed together by the ears for ce-
remonies, syllables, points, colons, commas, hy-
phens, and the like ? fighting as for their fires
and their altars ; and angry that none are frighted
at their noises, and loud brayings under their
asses skins.

There is hope of getting a fortune without

d Comes de Schertenhein.

160 DISCOVERIES.

digging in these quarries. Sed meliore fin omne)
ingenio, animoque quam for tuna, sum usus.

Pingue solum lassat ; sed jurat ipse labor.

Differentia inter Dodos el Sciolos. — Wits made
out their several expeditions then, for the dis-
covery of truth, to find out great and profitable
knowledges ; had their several instruments for
the disquisition of arts. Now there are certain
scioli or smatterers, that are busy in the skirts
and outsides of learning, and have scarce any
thing of solid literature to commend them. They
may have some edging or trimming of a scholar,
a welt, or so : but it is no more.

Impostorum Jucus. — Imposture is a specious
thing : yet never worse than when it feigns to
be best, and to none discovered sooner than the
simplest. For truth and goodness are plain and
open ; but imposture is ever ashamed of the light

Icunculorummotio. — A puppet-play must be sha-
dowed, and seen in the dark: for draw the cur-
tain, Et sordct gesticulatio.

Principes, et Administri. — There is a great dif-
ference in the understanding of some princes, as
in the quality of their ministers about them.
Some would dress their masters in gold, pearl,
and all true jewels of majesty: others furnish
them with feathers, bells, and ribands ; and acre
therefore esteemed the fitter servants, But they
are ever good men, that must make good the
times : if the men be naught, the times will be
such. Finis exspectandus esl in unoquoque hominum ;
animali ad mutationem bromptissimo.

DISCOVERIES. 161

Scil urn Hisp'rtiicum. — It is a quick saying with
the Spaniards, A)tes inter literedes non dividi. Yet
these have inherited their father's lying, and
they hrag of it. He is a narrow-minded man, that
affects a triumph in any glorious study; but to
triumph in a lie, and a lie themselves have
forged, is frontless. Folly often goes beyond
her bounds; but Impudence knows none.

Non nova res livor. — Envy is no new thing, nor
was it horn only in our times. The ages past
have brought it forth, and the coming ages will.
So long as there are men fit for it, quorum odium
virtute relicla placet, it will never be wanting. It
is a barbarous envy, to take from those men's
virtues, which because thou canst not arrive at,
thou impotently despairest to imitate. Is it a
crime fn me that I know that, which others had
not yet known, but from me? or that 1 am the
author of many things, which never would have
come in thy thought, but that I taught them ?
It is a new, but a foolish way you have found
out, that whom you cannot equal, or come near
in doing, you would destroy or ruin with evil
speaking: as if you had bound both your wits
and natures prentices to slander, and then came
forth the best artificers, when you could form
the foulest calumnies.

Nilgratius protervo lib. — Indeed nothing is of
more credit or request now, than a petulant
paper, or scoffing verses; and it is but conve-
nient to the times and manners we live with, to
have then the worst writings and studies flourish,
when the best begin to be despised. Ill arts
begin where good end*

Jam liter cs sordent. — Pastus hodiern* Ingen. — The
VOL. ix. M

162 DISCOVERIES.

time was when men would learn and study good
things, not envy those that had them. Then men
were had in price for learning ; now letters only
make men vile. He is upbraidingly called a poet,
as if it were a contemptible nick-name : but the
professors, indeed, have made the learning cheap.
Railing and tinkling rhymers, whose writings
the vulgar more greedily read, as being taken
with the scurrility and petulancy of such wifes.
He shall not have a reader now, unless he jeer
and lie. It is the food of men's natures ; the diet
of the times ! gallants cannot sleep else. The
writer must lie, and the gentle reader rests
happy, to hear the worthiest works misinter-
preted, the clearest actions obscured, the inno-
centest life traduced : and in such a license of
lying, a field so fruitful of slanders, how can
there be matter wanting to his laughter ? Hence
comes the epidemical infection: for how can
they escape the contagion of the writings, whom
the virulency of the calumnies hath not staved
off from reading ?

Sed seculi morbus. — Nothing doth more invite
a greedy reader, than an unlooked-for subject.
And what more unlooked-for, than to see a person
of an unblamed life made ridiculous, or odious,
by the artifice of lying ? but it is the disease of
the age : and no wonder if the world, growing
old, begin to be infirm : old age itself is a disease.
It is long since the sick world began to dpat
and talk idly : would she had but doated still !
but her dotage is now broke forth into a mad-
ness, and become a mere frenzy.

Alastoris malitia.* — This Alastor, who hath Left
nothing unsearched, or unassailed, by his impu-

DISCOVERIES. 163

dent and licentious lying in his aguish writings ;
(for he was in his cold quaking fit all the while ;)
what hath he done more, than a troublesome
base cur? barked and made a noise afar of; had
a fool or two to spit in his mouth, and cherish
him with a musty bone? but they are rather
enemies of my fame than me, these barkers.

Mali Choragi fucre. — It is an art to have so
much judgment as to apparel a lie well, to give
it a good dressing; that though the nakedness
would shew deformed and odious, the suiting of
it might draw their readers. Some love any
strumpet (be she never so shop-like or mere-
tricious) in good clothes. But these, nature
could not have formed them better, to destroy
their own testimony, and overthrow their ca-
lumny.

Hear- say news. — That an elephant, in 1630,
came hither ambassador from the great Mogul
(who could both write and read) and was every
day allowed twelve cast of bread, twenty quarts
of Canary sack, besides nuts and almonds the
citizens wives sent him. That he had a Spanish
boy to his interpreter, and his chief negociation
was, to confer or practise with Archy, the prin-
cipal fool of state, about stealing hence Windsor-
castle, and carrying it away on his back if he
can.

Lingua sapientis, potius quam loquentis. — A wise
tongue should not be licentious and wandering ;
but moved, and, as it were, governed with certain
reins from the heart, and bottom of the breast :
and it was excellently said of that philosopher,

M St

164 DISCOVERIES.

that there was a wall or parapet of teeth set in
our mouth, to restrain the petulancy of our
words ; that the rashness of talking should not
only he retarded hy the guard and watch of our
heart, but he fenced in, and defended by certain
strengths, placed in the mouth itself, and within
the lips. But you shall see some so abound with
words, without any seasoning or taste of matter,
in so profound a security, as while they are
speaking for the most part, they confess to speak
they know not what.

Of the two (if either were to be wished) I
would rather have a plain downright wisdom,
than a foolish and affected eloquence. For what
is so furious and Bethlem like, as a vain sound
of chosen and excellent words, without any sub-
ject of sentence or science mixed ?

Optanda. — Thersites Homeri. — Whom the dis-
ease of talking still once possesseth, he can
never hold his peace. Nay, rather than he will
not discourse he will hire men to hear him.
And so heard, not hearkened unto, he comes off
most times like a mountebank, that when he
hath praised his medicines, finds none will take
them, or trust him. He is like Homer's Thersites.

'AperposTryg, d^iro^oq ; speaking without
judgment or measure.

Loquax magis, qudmfacundus^
Softs loquenti&y sapientice parum*

rot Syravos ev

Salust. c Hesiodus.

DISCOVERIES. 165

Optimus est homini lingua thesaurus > et ingens
Gratia, qua parcis mensural singula verbis.

Homeri Ulysses. — DemacatusPlutarchi. — Ulysses
in Homer, is made a long-thinking man, before
be speaks ; and Epaminondas is celebrated by
Pindar, to be a man, that though he knew much,
yet he spoke but little. Demacatus, when on
the bench he was long silent, and said nothing;
one asking him, if it were folly in him, or want
of language ? he answered, A fool could never hold
his peace.1 For too much talking is ever the iu-
dice of a fool,

Dum tacet indoclus, polerit cordatus haberi;
Is morbos animi namque lacendo tegit.*

Nor is that worthy speech of Zeno the philo-
sopher to be past over, with the note of igno-
rance ; who being invited to a feast in Athens,
where a great prince's ambassadors were enter-
tained, and was the only person that said nothing
at the table ; one of them with courtesy asked
him, What shall we return from thee, Zeno, to
the prince our master, if he asks us of thee ?
Nothing, he replied, more, but that you found
an old man in Athens, that knew to be silent
amongst his cups. It was near a miracle to see
an old man silent, since talking is the disease of
age ; but amongst cups makes it fully a wonder.

Argute dictum. — It was wittily said upon one
that was taken for a great and grave man, so
long as he held his peace : This man might have
been a counsellor of state, till bespoke: but
having spoken, not the beadle of the ward.

f Vid, Zeuxidis pict. Serm. ad Mcgabizum. * Plutarch.

166 DISCOVERIES.

/o$. Pyihag. quam laudabilis !
aXXuv Kpdrei, §tofy B7ropev&>. Lhiguam cohibe,
pra aiiis omnibus, ad Devrum exemplum.h Digit o
compfsce labellum.1

Acutius cernuntur villa quam virtutes. — There is
almost no man but he sees clearlier and sharper
the vices in a speaker, than the virtues. And
there are many, that with more ease will find
fault with what is spoken foolishly, than that can
give allowance to that wherein you are wise
silently. The treasure of a fool is always in his
tongue, said the witty comic poet ;k and it ap-
pears not in any thing more than in that nation,
whereof one, when he had got the inheritance of
an unlucky old grange, would needs sell it;1
and to draw buyers, proclaimed the virtues of
it. Nothing ever thrived on it, saith he. No
owner of it ever died in his bed ; some hung,
some drowned themselves ; some were banished,
some starved ; the trees were all blasted ; the
swine died of the meazles, the cattle of the mur-
rain, the sheep of the rot ; they that stood were
ragged, bare, and bald as your hand ; nothing
was ever reared there, not a duckling, or a goose.
Hospitium fuerat ealamitatis^ Was not this man
like to sell it?

Vulgi expeclatio. — Expectation of the vulgar is
more drawn and held with newness than good-
ness; we see it in fencers, in players, in poets,
in preachers, in all where fame prorniseth any
thing ; so it be new, though never so naught
and depraved, they run to it, and are taken,
Which shews, that the only decay, or hurt of

h Vide Apuleium. ! Juvenal. k Plautus.

1 Trin. Act. 2, Seen. 4. m Mart. lib. 1. ep. 85.

DISCOVERIES. 167

the best men's reputation with the people is,
their wits have out-lived the people's palates.
They have been too much or too long a feast.

Claritas patria, — Greatness of name in the
father oft-times helps not forth, but overwhelms
the son ; they stand too near one another. The
shadow kills the growth ; so much, that we see
the grandchild come more and oftener to be
heir of the first, than doth the second : he dies
between ; the possession is the third's.

Eloquentia. — Eloquence is a great and diverse
thing : nor did she yet ever favour any man so
much as to become wholly his. He is happy that
can arrive to any degree of her grace. Yet there
are who prove themselves masters of her, and
absolute lords ; but I believe they may mistake
their evidence : for it is one thing to be eloquent
in the schools, or in the hall; another at the
bar, or in the pulpit. There is a difference be-
tween mooting and pleading; between fencing
and fighting. To make arguments in my study,
and confute them, is easy ; where I answer my-
self, not an adversary. So I can see whole
volumes dispatched by the umbratical doctors
on all sides : but draw these forth into the just
lists ; let them appear sub dio, and they are
changed with the place, like bodies bred in the
shade ; they cannot suffer the sun or a shower,
nor bear the open air: they scarce can find
themselves, that they were wont to domineer so
among their auditors: but indeed I would no
more choose a rhetorician for reigning in a
school, than I would a pilot for rowing in a pond.

Amor et Odium. — Love that is ignorant, and

168 DISCOVERIES.

hatred have almost the same ends : many foolish
lovers wish the same to their friends, which
their enemies would : as to wish a friend ba-
nished, that they might accompany him in exile;
or some great \vant, that they might relieve him;
or a disease, that they might sit by him They
make a causeway to their country by injury, as
if it were not honester to do nothing, than to
seek a way to do good by a mischief.

Injuria. — Injuries do not extinguish courte-
sies : they only suffer them not to appear fair.
For a man that doth me an injury after a cour-
tesy, takes not away that courtesy, hut defaces
it : as he that writes other verses upon my ver-
ses, takes not away the first letters, but hides
them.

Beneficia. — Nothing is a courtesy, unless it be
meant us ; and that friendly and lovingly. We
owe no thanks to rivers, that they carry our
boats; or winds, that they be favouring and fill
our sails ; or meats, that they he nourishing.
For these are what they are necessarily. Horses
carry us, trees shade us, but they know it not.
It is true, some men may receive a courtesy, and
not know it; but never any man received it
from him that knew it not. Many men have
been cured of diseases by accidents ; but they
were not remedies. I myself have known one
^helped of an ague by falling into a water, ano-
ther whipped out of a fever : but no man would
ever use these for medicines. It is the mind, and
not the event, that distinguished! the courtesy
from wrong. My adversary may offend the
judge with his pride and impertinences, and I
win my cause ; but he meant it not me as a

DISCOVERIES. 169

courtesy. I scaped pirates by being shipwrecked,
was the wreck a benefit therefore^ No: the
doing of courtesies aright, is the mixing Of the
respects for his own sake, and for mine. He that
doeth them merely for his own sake, is like one
that feeds his cattle to sell them : he hath his
horse well drest for Smithfield.

Valor rerum. — The price of many things is far
above what they are bought and sold for. Life
and health, which are both inestimable, we have
of the physician : as learning and knowledge,
the true tillage of the mind, from our school-
masters. But the fees of the one, or the salary
of the other, never answer the value of what we
received ; but served to gratify their labours.

Memoria. — Memory, of ali the powers of the
mind, is the most delicate, and frail : it i* the
first of our faculties that age invades. Seneca,
the father, the rhetorician, confe*seth of himself,
he had a miraculous one: not only to receive,
but to hold. I myself could, in my youth, have
repeated all that ever I had made, and so conti-
nued till I was past forty : since, it is much de-
cayed in me. Yet I can repeat whole books that
I have read, and poems of some selected friends,
which I have liked to charge my memory with.
It was wont to be faithful to me, but shaken
with age now, and sloth, which weakens the
strongest abilities, it may perform somewhat,
but cannot promise much. By exercise it is to
be made better, and serviceable. Whatsoever I
pawned with it while 1 was young and a boy, it
offers me readily, and without stops : but what
I trust to it now, or have done of later years,
it lays up more negligently, and oftentimes loses;
so that I receive mine own (though frequently

170 DISCOVERIES.

called for) as if it were new and borrowed. Nor
do I always find presently from it what I
seek ; but while I am doing another thing, that
I laboured for will come : and what I sought
with trouble, will offer itself when I am quiet.
Now in some men I have found it as happy as
nature, who, whatsoever they read or pen, they
can say without book presently ; as if they did
then write in their mind. And it is more a won-
der in such as have a swift style, for their me-
mories are commonly slowest ; such as torture
their writings, and go into council for every
word, must needs fix somewhat, and make it
their own at last, though but through their own
vexation.

Gomil. suffragia* — Suffrages in parliament are
numbered, not weighed : nor can it be otherwise
in those public councils, where nothing is so
unequal as the equality : for there, how odd
soever men's brains or wisdoms are, their power
is always even and the same,

Stare a partibus. — Some actions, be they never
so beautiful and generous, are often obscured
by base and vile misconstructions, either out of
envy, or ill-nature, that judgeth of others as of
itself. Nay, the times are so wholly grown to
be either partial or malicious, that if he be a
friend, all sits well about him, his very vices
shall be virtues ; if an enemy, or of the contrary
faction, nothing is good or tolerable in hint :
insomuch that we care not to discredit and
shame our judgments, to sooth our passions.

Deus in crealuris. — Man is read in his face ;
God in his creatures ; but not as the philosopher,

DISCOVERIES.

the creature of glory, reads him : but as the
divine, the servant of humility : yet even he
must take care not to be too curious. For to
utter truth of God (but as he thinks only) may
be dangerous ; who is best known by our not
knowing. Some things of him, so much as he
hath revealed, or commanded, it is not only
lawful but necessary for us to know : for therein
our ignorance was the first cause of our wicked-
ness.

Veritas proprium homitris.* — Truth is man's proper
good ; arid the only immortal thing was given
to our mortality to use. No good Christian or
ethnic, if he be honest, can miss it: no states-
man or patriot should. For without truth all the
actions of mankind are craft, malice, or what
you will, rather than wisdom. Homer says, he
hates him worse than hell-mouth, that utters
one thing with his tongue, and keeps another in
his breast. Which high expression was grounded
on divine reason : for a lying mouth is a stinking
pit, and murders with the contagion it venteth.
Beside, nothing is lasting that is feigned ; it will
have another face than it had, ere long. As
Euripides saith, " No lie ever grows old."

Nullumvitium sine pat rocinio. — It is strange there
should be no vice without its patronage, that,
when we have no other excuse, we will say, we
love it; we cannot forsake it. As if that mad^
it not more a fault. We cannot, because we think
we cannot, and we love it, because we will
defend it. We will rather excuse it, than be rid
of it. That we cannot, is pretended; but that
we will not, is the true reason. How many have
I known, that would not have their vices hid ?

172 DISCOVERIES,

nay, and to be noted, live like Antipodes to
others in the same city ? never see the sun rise
or set, in so many years ; but be as they were
watching a corps by torch light ; \* ould not sin
the common way, but held that a kind of rus-
ticity ; they would do it new, or contrary, for
the infamy ; they were ambitious of living hack-
ward ; and at last arrived at that, as they would
love nothing but the vices, not the vicious cus-
toms. It was impossible to reform these natures ;
they were dried and hardened in their ill. They
may say they desired to leave it; hut do no*t
trust them: and they may think they desire it,
but they may lie for all that: they are a little
angry with their follies now and then ; marry
they come into grace with them again quickly.
They will confess they are offended with their
manner of living: like enough ; who is not?
When they can put me in security that they are
more than offended, that they bate it, then I will
hearken to them; and perhaps believe them :
but many now a days love and hate their ill
together.

De vere argutis. — I do hear them say often,
some men are not witty ; because they are not
every where witty ; than which nothing is more
foolish. If an eye or a nose be an excellent part
in the face, therefore be all tye or nose! I
think the eye-brow, the forehead, the cheek,
chin, lip, or any part else, are as nectssaiy, and
natural in the place. But now nothing is good
that is natural : ri^ht and natural language seems
to have least of the wit in it; that which is
writhed and tortured, is counted the more ex-
quisite. Cloth of boclkin or tissue must be em-
broidered ; as if no face were fair that were not

DISCOVERIES.

173

powdered or painted ? no beauty to be had, but
in wresting and writhing our own tongue ? No-
thing is fashionable till it be deformed ; and this
is to write like a gentleman. All must be affected,
and preposterous as our gallants' clothes, sweet
bags, and night dressings : in which you would
think our men lay in, like ladies, it is so curious.

Censura de poelis. — Nothing in our age, I have
observed, is more preposterous than the running
judgments upon poetry and poets ; when we
shall hear those things commended, and cried up
for the best writings, which a man would scarce
vouchsafe to wrap any wholsome drug in ; he
would never light his tobacco with them. And
those men almost named for miracles, who yet
are so vile, that if a man should go about to
examine and correct them, he must make all
they have clone but one blot. Their good is so
entangled with their bad, as forcibly one must
draw on the other's death with it, A sponge dipt
in ink will do all :

Comitetur Punica librum

Spongia.

Et pau!6 post,

Non possunt . .

, multa .... Itiurce
una lilura potest"

Cestius. — Cicero. — Heath. — Taylor. — Spenser. —
Yet their vices have not hurt them : nay, a
great many they have profited ; for they have
been loved for nothing else. And this false opi-
nion grows strong against the best men ; if once

n Mart. 1. iv. epig. 10.

374 DISCOVERIES.

it take root with the ignorant. Cestius, in his
time, was preferred to Cicero, so far as the ig-
norant durst. They learned him without book,
and had him often in their mouths: but a man
cannot imagine that thing so foolish, or rude,
but will find, and enjoy an admirer ; at least a
reader, or spectator The puppets are seen now
in despight of the players : Heath's epigrams,
and the Skuller's poems have their applause.
There are never wanting, that dare prefer the
worst preachers, the worst pleaders, the worst
poets ; not that the better have left to write, or
speak better, but that they that hear them
judge worse ; Non illi pejus dicuntj sed hi corrup-
tiusjudicant. Nay, if it were put to the question
of the water-rhymer's works, against Spenser's,
I doubt not but they would find more suffrages ;
because the most favour common vices, out of
a prerogative the vulgar have to lose their judg-
ments, and like that which is naught.

Poetry, in this latter age, hath proved but a
mean mistress to such as nave wholly addicted
themselves to her, or given their names up to
her family. They who have but saluted her on
the by, and now and then tendered their visits,
she hath done much for, and advanced in the
way of their own professions (both the law and
the gospel) beyond all they could have hoped or
done for themselves, withoutherfavour. Wherein
she doth emulate the judicious but preposterous
bounty of the time's grandees : who accumulate
all they can upon the parasite, or fresh-man in
their friendship ; but think an old client, or
honest servant, bound by his place to write and
starve.

Indeed the multitude commend writers, as

DISCOVERIES. 175

they do fencers, or wrestlers ; who if they come
in robustiously, and put for it with a deal of
violence, are received for the braver fellows :
when many times their own rudeness is a cause
of their disgrace ; and a slight touch of their
adversary gives all that boisterous force the foil.
But in these things the unskilful are naturally
deceived, and judging wholly by the bulk, think
rude things greater than polished ; and scat-
tered more numerous than composed : nor think
this only to be true in the sordid multitude, but
the neater sort of our gallants : for all are the
multitude; only they differ in clothes, not in
judgment or understanding.

De Shahspeare nosfrat. — Augustus in Hat. — I
remember, the players have often mentioned it
as an honour to Shakspeare, that in his writing
(whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a
line. My answer hath been, Would he had blotted
a thousand. Which they thought a malevolent
speech. I had not told posterity this, but for
their ignorance, who chose that circumstance to
commend their friend by, wherein he most
faulted ; and to justify mine own candour : for
I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on
this side idolatry, as much as any. He was
(indeed) honest, and of an open and free nature ;
had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and
gentle expressions ; wherein he flowed with that
facility, that sometimes it was necessary he
should be stopped : Sufflaminandus erat, as Au-
gustus said of Haterius. His wit was in his own
power, would the rule of it had been so too.
Many times he fell into those things, could not
escape laughter : as when he said in the person
of Caesar, one speaking to him, " Csesar thou

176 DISCOVERIES.

dost me wrong." He replied, " Caesar did never
wron^' but with just cause," and such like;
which were ridiculous. But he redeemed his
vices with his virtues. There was ever more in
him to be praised than to be pardoned.

Ingeniorum discrimina. Not. 1. — In the difference
of wits, I have observed there are many notes:
and it is a little maistry to know them ; to dis-
cern what every nature, every disposition will
bear : for, before we sow our land, we should
plough it. There are no fewer forms of minds,
than of bodies amongst us. The variety is incre-
dible, and therefore we must search. Some are
fit to make divines, some poets, some lawyers,
some physicians : some to be sent to the plough,
and trades.

There is no doctrine will do good, where na-
ture is wanting. Some wits are swelling and
high ; others low and still : some hot and fiery,
others cold and dull; one must have a bridle,
the other a spur.

Not. 2. There be some that are forward and bold ;
and these will do every little thing easily ; I
mean that is hard-by and next them, which they
will utter unretarded without any shainefastness.
These never perform much, but quickly. They
are what they are, on the sudden ; they shew
presently like grain, that scattered on the top
of the ground, shoots up, but takes no root ; has
a yellow blade, but the ear empty. They are
wits of good promise at first, but there is an
ingenistitium : ° they stand still at sixteen, they
get no higher.

0 A Wit-stand.

DISCOVERIES. 177

Not. 3.— You have others, that labour only to
ostentation ; and are ever more busy about the
colours and surface of a work, than in the matter
and foundation : for that is hid, the other is seen.

Not.4*. — Others, that in composition are nothing,
but what is rough and broken : Qua per salebras,
altaque saxa cadunt.* And if it would come gently,
they trouble it of purpose. They would not have
it run without rubs, as if that style were more
strong and manly, that struck the ear with a kind
of unevenness. These men err not by chance,
but knowingly and willingly ; they are like men
that affect a fashion by themselves, have some
singularity in a ruff, cloak, or hat-band ; or their
beards specially cut to provoke beholders, and
set a mark upon themselves. They would be re-
prehended, while they are looked on. And this
vice, one that is authority with the rest, loving,
delivers over to them to be imitated; so that
oft-times the faults which he fell into, the others
seek for : this is the danger, when vice becomes
a precedent.

. 5. — Others there are that have no compo-
sition at all ; but a kind of tuning and rhyming-
fall, in what they write. It runs and slides, and
only makes a sound. Women's poets they are
called, as you have women's tailors;

They write a verse as smooth, as soft as cream ;
In which there is no torrent t nor scarce stream.

You may sound these wits, and find the depth

P Martial, lib. 11. epig. 91.
VOL. IX. N

178 DISCOVERIES.

of them with your middle finger. They are
cream-bowl, or but puddle-deep.

Not. 6. — Some that turn over all books, and are
equally searching in all papers, that write out of
what they presently find or meet, without choice ;
by which means it happens, that what they have
discredited and impugned in one week, they
have before or after extolled the same in another.
Such are all the essayists, even their master Mon-
taigne. These, in all they write, confess still
what books they have read last ; and therein
their own folly, so much, that they bring it to
the stake raw and undigested : not that the place
did need it neither ; but that they thought them-
selves furnished, and would vent it.

Not. 7. — Some again (who after they have got
authority, or, which is less, opinion, by their writ-
ings, to have read much) dare presently to feign
whole books and authors, and lye safely. For
what never was, will not easily be found, not by
the most curious.

Not. 8. — And some, by a cunning protestation
against all reading, and false venditation of their
own naturals, think to divert the sagacity of their
readers from themselves, and cool the scent of
their own fox-like thefts; when yet they are so
rank, as a man may find whole pages together
usurped from one author : their necessities com-
pelling them to read for present use, whicrji
could not be in many books ; and so come forth
more ridiculously, and palpably guilty than those,
who because they cannot trace, they yet would
slander their industry.

DISCOVERIES.

179

Not. 9. — But the wretcheder are the obstinate
contemners of all helps and arts ; such as presum-
ingon their own naturals (which perhaps are excel-
lentjdarederideall diligence, and seem to mockat
the terms, when they understand not the things ;
thinking that way to get off wittily, with their
ignorance. These are imitated often by such as
are their peers in negligence, though they cannot
be in nature : and they utter all they can think
with a kind of violence and indisposition; un-
examined, without relation either to person,
place, or any fitness else ; and the more wilful
and stubborn they are in it, the more learned
they are esteemed of the multitude, through
their excellent vice of judgment : who think
those things the stronger, that have no art; as
if to break, were better than to open ; or to rent
asunder, gentler than to loose.

Not. 10. — It cannot but come to pass, that these
men who commonly seek to do more than enough,
may sometimes happen on something that is
good and great ; but very seldom : and when it
comes, it doth not recompense the rest of their
ill. For their jests, and their sentences (which
they only and ambitiously seek for) stick out,
and are more eminent ; because all is sordid,
and vile about them ; as lights are more dis-
cerned in a thick darkness, than a faint shadow.
Now because they speak all they can (however
unfitly) they are thought to have the greater
copy : where the learned use ever election and
a mean ; they look back to what they intended
at first, and make all an even and proportioned
body. The true artificer will not run away from
nature, as he were afraid of her; or depart

N2

180 DISCOVERIES.

from life, and the likeness of truth ; but speak
to the capacity of his hearers. And though his
language differ from the vulgar somewhat, it
shall not fly from all humanity, with the Tamer-
lanes, and Tamer-chams of the late age, which
had nothing in them-but the scenical strutting,
and furious vociferation, to warrant them to the
ignorant gapers. He knows it is his only art, so
to carry it, as none but artificers perceive it. In
the mean time, perhaps, he is called barren, dull,
lean, a poor writer, or by what contumelious
word can come in their cheeks, by these men,
who without labour, judgment, knowledge, or
almost sense, are received or preferred before
him. He gratulates them, and their fortune.
Another age, or juster men, will acknowledge
the virtues of bis studies, his wisdom in dividing,
his subtlety in arguing, with what strength he
doth inspire his readers, with what sweetness he
strokes them; in inveighing, what sharpness; in
jest, what urbanity he uses : how he doth reign
in men's affections : how invade, and break in
upon them ; and makes their minds like the
thing he writes. Then in his elocution to behold
what word is proper, which hath ornaments,
which height, what is beautifully translated,
where figures are fit, which gentle, which strong,
to shew the composition manly : and how he
hath avoided faint, obscure, obscene, sordid,
humble, improper, or effeminate phrase ; which
is not only praised of the most, but commended,
(which is worse) especially for that it is naught;.

Ignorantia anima. — I know no disease of the
soul, but ignorance ; not of the arts and sciences,
but of itself : yet relating to those it is a per-
nicious evil, the darkener of man's life, the

DISCOVERIES,

181

disturber of his reason, and common confounder
of truth ; with which a man goes groping in the
dark, no otherwise than if he were hlind. Great
understandings are most racked and troubled
with it: nay, sometimes they will rather choose
to die, than not to know the things they study
for. Think then what an evil it is, and what good
the contrary.

Scientia. — Knowledge is the action of the soul,
and is perfect without the senses, as having the
seeds of all science and virtue in itself; but not
without the service of the senses ; by these or-
gans the soul works : she is a perpetual agent,
prompt and subtle; but often flexible, and erring,
intangling herself like a silk- worm : but her
reason is a weapon with two edges, and cuts
through. In her indagations oft-times new
scents put her by, and she takes in errors into
her, by the same conduits she cloth truths.

Olium. —Studiorum. — Ease and relaxation are
profitable to all studies. The mind is like a
bow, the stronger by being unbent. But the
temper in spirits is all, when to command a man's
wit, when to favour it. I have known a man
vehement on both sides, that knew no mean,
either to intermit his studies, or call upon them
again. When he hath set himself to writing, he
would join night to day, press upon himself
without release, not minding it, till he fainted ;
and when he left off, resolve himself into all
sports and looseness again, that it was almost a
despair to draw him to his book; but once got
to it, he grew stronger and more earnest by the
ease. His whole powers were renewed ; he would
work out of himself what he desired; but with

182 DISCOVERIES.

such excess, as his study could not be ruled ;
he knew not how to dispose his own abilities,
or husband them, he was of that immoderate
power against himself. Nor was he only a strong*
but an absolute speaker, and writer; but his
subtlety did not shew itself; his judgment
thought that a vice : for the ambush hurts more
that is hid. He never forced his language, nor
went out of the highway of speaking, but for
some great necessity, or apparent profit : for he
denied figures to be invented for ornament, but
for aid ; and still thought it an extreme madness
to bind or wrest that which ought to be right.

Stili eminenlia. — Virgil.— Tully. — Sallust. — It is
no wonder men's eminence appears but in their own
way. Virgil's felicity left him in prose, as Tully's
forsook him in verse. Sallust's orations are read in
the honour of story ; yet the most eloquent Plato's
speech, which he made for Socrates, is neither
worthy of the patron, nor the person defended.
Nay, in the same kind of oratory, and where the
matter is one, you shall have him that reasons
strongly, open negligently ; another that prepares
well, not fit so well : And this happens not only to
brains, but to bodies. One can wrestle well, ano-
ther rurrwell, a third leap, or throw the bar, a
fourth lift, or stop a cart going : each hath his
way of strength. So in other creatures, some
dogs are for the deer, some for the wild boar,
some are fox-hounds, some otter-hounds. Nor
are all horses for the coach or saddle, some are
for the cart and paniers.

De claris Oratoribus.—Iha.vG known many ex-
cellent men, that would speak suddenly, to the
admiration of their hearers ; who upon study
and premeditation have been forsaken by their

DISCOVERIES.

183

own wits, and no way answered their fame : their
eloquence was greater than their reading; and
the things they uttered, better than those they
knew : their fortune deserved better of them
than their care. For men of present spirits, and
of greater wits than study, do please more in
the things they invent, than in those they bring.
And I have heard some of them compelled to
speak, out of necessity, that have so infinitely
exceeded themselves, as it was better botii for
them and their auditory, that they were so sur-
prised, not prepared. Nor was it safe then to
cross them, for their adversary, their anger made
them more eloquent. Yet these men I could not
but love and admire, that they returned to their
studies. They left not diligence (as many do)
when their rashness prospered ; for diligence is
a great aid, even to an indifferent wit ; when
we are not contented with the examples of our
own age, but would know the face of the former.
Indeed, the more we confer with, the more we
profit by, if the persons be chosen.

Dominus Verulamius. — One, though he be ex-
cellent, and the chief, is not to be imitated alone:
for no imitator ever grew up to his author ;
likeness is always on this side truth. Yet there
happened in my time one noble speaker, who was
full of gravity in his speaking. His language
(where he could spare or pass by a jest) was
nobly censorious. No man ever spake more
neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered
less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered.
No member of his speech, but cdnsisted of his
own graces. His hearers could not cough, or
look aside from him, without loss. He com-
manded where he spoke ; and had his judges

184 DISCOVERIES.

angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had
their affections more in his power. The fear of
every man that heard him was, lest he should
make an end.

Scriplorum Catalogus.* — Cicero is said to be the
only wit that the people of Rome had equalled to
their empire. Ingenium par imperio. We have had
many, and in their several ages (to take in but the
former seculum) sir Thomas Moore, the elder Wiat,
Henry earl of Surrey, Chaloner, Smith, Eliot,
B. Gardiner, were for their times admirable ; and
the more, because they began eloquence with us.
Sir Nicholas Bacon was singular, and almost alone,
in the beginning of queen Elizabeth's time.
Sir Philip Sidney, and Mr. Hooker (in different
matter) grew great masters of wit and language,
and in whom all vigour of invention and strength
of judgment met. The earl of Essex, noble and
high ; and sir Walter Raleigh, not to be con-
temned, either for judgment or style. Sir Henry
Savile, grave, and truly lettered; sir Edwin
Sandys, excellent in both ; lord Egerton, the
chancellor, a grave and great orator, and best
when he was provoked. But his learned and
able (though unfortunate) successor, is he who
hath filled up all numbers, and performed that
in our tongue, which may be compared or pre-
ferred either to insolent Greece, or haughty
Rome. In short, within his view, and about his
times, were all the wits born, that could honour

<*

* Sir Thomas Moore. Sir Thomas Wiat. Henry, earl of
Surrey. Sir Thomas Chaloner. Sir Thomas Smith. Sir Thomas
Eliot. Bishop Gardiner. Sir Nicholas Bacon, L. K. Sir Philip
Sidney. Master Richard Hooker. Robert earl of Essex. Sir
Walter Raleigh. Sir Henry Savile. Sir Edwin Sandys. Sir
Thomas Egerton, L.C. Sir Francis Bacon, L. C.

DISCOVERIES. 185

a language, or help study. Now things daily fall,
wits grow downward, and eloquence grows hack-
ward : so that he may be narned, and stand as
the mark and a»pj of our language.

De Augmentis Scuniiarum. — Julius Casar.* — Lord
St. Alban. — I have ever observed it to have
been the office of a wise patriot, among the
greatest affairs of the state, to take care of the
commonwealth of learning. For schools, they
are the seminaries of state ; and nothing is wor-
thier the study of a statesman, than that part of
the republic which we call the advancement of
letters. Witness the care of Julius Cassar, who
in the heat of tjie civil war writ his books of
Analogy, and dedicated them to Tally. This
made the late lord St. Alban entitle his work
Novum Organum: which though by the most of
superficial men, who cannot get beyond the title
of nominals, it is not penetrated, nor understood,
it really openeth all defects of learning what-
soever, and is a book

Qiti longum noto scriplori proroget avumJ

My conceit of his person was never in-
creased toward -him by his place, or honours:
but I have and do reverence him, for the great-
ness that was only proper to himself, in that he
seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the
greatest men, and most worthy of admiration,
that had been in many ages. In his adversity
I ever prayed, that God would give him
strength ; for greatness he could not want. Nei-
ther could I condoje in a word or syllable for

1 Horat. de Art. Poetica.

186 DISCOVERIES.

him, as knowing no accident could do harm to
virtue, but rather help to make it manifest.

De Corruptela Morum* — There cannot be one
colour of the mind, another of the wit. If the
mind be staid, grave, and composed, the wit is so ;
that vitiated, the other is blown and deflowered.
Do we not see, if the mind languish, the members
are dull ? Look upon an effeminate person, his
very gait confesseth him. If a man be fiery, his
motion is so ; if angry, it is troubled and violent.
So that we may conclude wheresoever manners
and fashions are corrupted, language is. Itimitates
the public riot. The excess of feasts and apparel
are the notes of a sick state ; and the wanton-
ness of language, of a sick mind.

De rebus mundanis. — If we would consider what
our affairs are indeed, not what they are called,
we should find more evils belonging to us, than
happen to us. How often doth that, which was
called a calamity, prove the beginning and cause
of a man's happiness ? and, on the contrary, that
which happened or came to another with great
gratulation and applause, how it hath lifted him
but a step higher to his ruin ? as if he stood
before, where he might fall safely.

Vulgi Mores. — Morbus comitialis. — The vulgar
are commonly ill-natured, and always grudging
against their governors : which makes that a
prince has more business and trouble with them,
than ever Hercules had with the bull, or any
other beast ; by how much they have mdre heads
than will be reined with one bridle. There was
not that variety of beasts in the ark, as is of
beastly natures in the multitude ; especially

DISCOVERIES. 187

when they come to that iniquity to censure their
sovereign's actions. Then all the counsels are
made good, or bad, by the events : and it fal-
leth out, that the same facts receive from them
the names, now of diligence, now of vanity, now
of majesty, now of fury ; where they ought wholly
to hang on his mouth, as he to consist of himself,
and not others counsels.

Princeps.— After God, nothing is to be loved
of man like the prince : he violates nature, that
doth it not with his whole heart. For when he
hath put on the care of the public good, and
common safety, I am a wretch, and put off man,
if I do not reverence and honour him, in whose
charge all things divine and human are placed.
Do but ask of nature, why all living creatures
are less delighted with meat and drink that sus-
tains them, than with venery that wastes them ?
and she will tell thee, the first respects but a
private, the other a common good, propagation.

De eodem. — Orpheus' Hymn.-—Rz is the arbiter
of life and death : when he finds no other sub-
ject for his mercy, he should spare himself. All
his punishments are rather to correct than to
destroy. Why are prayers with Orpheus said to
be the daughters of Jupiter, but that princes
are thereby admonished that the petitions of the
wretched ought to have more weight with them,
than the laws themselves.

De opt. Rege Jacobo. — It was a great accumu-
lation to his majesty's deserved praise, that men
might openly visit and pity those, whom his
greatest prisons had at any time received, or his
laws condemned.

188 DISCOVERIES.

De Princ. adjunctis. — Sed veri prudens hand con*
dpi possit Princeps, nisi — simul et bonus. — Lycur-
gus. — Sylla. — Lysander. — Cyrus. — Wise, is ra-
ther the attribute of a prince, than learned or
good. The learned man profits others rather than
himself; the good man, rather himself than
others : but the prince commands others, and
doth himself. The wise Lycurgus gave no law
but what himself kept. Sylla and Lysander did
not so; the one living'extremely dissolute him-
self, inforced frugality by the laws ; the other
permitted those licenses to others, which himself
abstained from. But the prince's prudence is his
chief art and safety. In his counsels and delibe-
rations he forsees the future times : in the equity
of his judgment, he hath remembrance of the
past, and knowledge of what is to be done or
avoided for the present. Hence the Persians gave
out their Cyrus to have been nursed by a bitch,
a creature to encounter it, as of sagacity to seek
out good ; shewing that wisdom may accompany
fortitude, or it leaves to be, and puts on the
name of rashness.

De Malign. Studentium. — There be some men
are born only to suck out the poison of books :
Habcnt venenum provictu; imo, pro deliciis. And
such are they that only relish the obscene and
foul things in poets ; which makes the profession
taxed. But by whom r Men that watch for it ;
and (had they not had this hint) are so unjust
valuers of letters, as they think no learning go«d
but what brings in gain. It shews they them-
selves would never have been of the professions
they are, but for the profits and fees. But if
another learning, well used, can instruct to good
life, inform manners, no less persuade and lead

DISCOVERIES.

189

men, than they threaten and compel, and have
no reward ; is it therefore the worse study ? I
could never think the study of wisdom confined
only to the philosopher; or of piety to the
divine ; or of state to the politic : but that he
which can feign a commonwealth (which is the
poet) can govern it with counsels, strengthen it
with laws, correct it with judgments, inform it
with religion and morals, is all these. We do .
not require in him mere elocution, or an excel-
lent faculty in verse, but the exact knowledge
of all virtues, and their contraries, with ability
to render the one loved, the other hated, by his
proper embattling them. The philosophers did
insolently, to challenge only to themselves that
which the greatest generals and gravest coun-
sellors never durst. For such had rather do, than
promise the best things.

Contr -overs. Scriptores. — More Andabatarum qui
clausis oculis pugnant. — Some controverters in di-
vinity are like swaggerers in a tavern, that catch
that which stands next them, the candlestick,
or pots ; turn every thing into a weapon : oft-
times they fight blindfold, and both beat the air.
The one milks a he-goat, the other holds under
a sieve. Their arguments are as fluxive as liquor
spilt upon a table, which with your finger you
may drain as you will. Such controversies, or
disputations (carried with more labour than
profit) are odious; where most times the truth
is lost in the midst, or left untouched. And the
fruit of their fig lit is, that they spit one upon
another, and are both defiled. These fencers in
religion I like not.

Morbi. — The body hath certain diseases, that

190 DISCOVERIES,

are with less evil tolerated, than removed. As
if to cure a leprosy a man should bathe himself
with the warm blood of a murdered child : so in
the church, some errors may be dissimuled with
less inconvenience than they can be discovered.

Jactantia intempestiva. — Men that talk of their
own benefits, are not believed to talk of them,
because they have done them ; but to have done
them, because they might talk of them. That
which had been great, if another had reported
it of them, vanisheth, and is nothing, if he that
did it speak of it. For men, when they cannot
destroy the deed, will yet be glad to take ad-
vantage of the boasting, and lessen it.

Adulatio. — I have seen that poverty makes
men do unfit things; but honest men should not
do them ; they should gain otherwise. Though
a man be hungry, he should not play the parasite.
That hour wherein I would repent me to be
honest, there were ways enough open for me to
be rich. But flattery is a fine pick-lock of tender
ears; especially of those whom fortune hath
borne high upon their wings, that submit their
dignity and authority to it, by a soothing of
themselves. For indeed men could never be
taken in that abundance with the springes of
others flattery, if they began not there; if they
did but remember how much more profitable the
bitterness of truth were, than all the honey di-
stilling from a whorish voice, which is not praise,
but poison. But now it is come to that extreme
folly, or rather madness, with some, that he that
flatters them modestly, or sparingly, is thought
to malign them. If their friend consent not to
their vices, though he do not contradict them,

DISCOVERIES. 191

he is nevertheless an enemy. When they do all
things the worst way, even then they look for
praise. Nay, they will hire fellows to flatter them,
with suits and suppers, and to prostitute their
judgments. They have livery-friends, friends of
the dish, and of the spit, that wait their turns,
as my lord has his feasts and guests.

De vita humand. — I have considered our whole
life is like a play : wherein every man forgetful
of himself, is in travail with expression of ano-
ther. Nay, we so insist in imitating others, as
we cannot (when it is necessary) return to our-
selves ; like children, that imitate the vices of
stammerers so long, till at last they become
such ; and make the habit to another nature, as
it is never forgotten.

De Pits et Probis. — Good men are the stars, the
planets of the ages wherein they live, and illus-
trate the times. God did never let them be
wanting to the world : as Abel, for an example
of innocency, Enoch of purity, Noah of trust in
God's mercies, Abraham of faith, and so of the
rest. These, sensual men thought mad, because
they would not be partakers or practicers of their
madness. But they, placed high on the top of all
virtue, looked down on the stage of the world,
and contemned the play of fortune. For though
the most be players, some must be spectators.

Mores AulicL — I have discovered, that a feigned
familiarity in great ones, is a note of certain
usurpation on the less. For great and popular
men feign themselves to be servants to others,
to make those slaves to them. So the fisher

192 DISCOVERIES.

provides bait for the trout, roach, dace, &c. that
they may he food to him.

Impiorum querela — Augustus. — Varus. — Tibe-
rius.— The complaint of Caligula was most
wicked of the condition of his times, when he
said, They were not famous for any public cala-
mity, as the reign of Augustus was, by the
defeat of Varus and the legions ; and that of
Tiberius, by the falling of the theatre at Fidenae;
\vhilst his oblivion was eminent, through the
prosperity of his affairs. As that other voice of
his was worthier a headsman than a head, when
he wished the people of Rome had but one neck.
But he found (when he fell) they had many
hands. A tyrant, how great and mighty soever
he may seem to cowards and sluggards, is but
one creature, one animal,

JVobilium ingenia. — I have marked among the
nobility, some are so addicted to the service of
the prince and commonwealth, as they look not
for spoil ; such are to be honoured and loved.
There are others, which no obligation will fasten
on ; and they are of two sorts, The first are
such as love their own ease ; or, out of vice, of
nature, or self-direction, avoid business and care.
Yet these the prince may use with safety. The
other remove themselves upon craft and design,
as the architects say, with a premeditated thought
to their own, rather th?n their prince's profit.
Such let the prince take beed of, and not doubt
to reckon in the list of his open enemies.

Principum varia. — Firmissima verd omnium basis jus
hareditariumPrincipis. — There is a great variation
between him that is raised to the sovereignty

DISCOVERIES. 193

by the favour of his peers, and him that comes
to it by the suffrage of the people. The first holds
with more difficulty ; because he hath to do with
many that think themselves his equals, and raised
him for their own greatness and oppression of
the rest. The latter hath no upbraiders, but was
raised by them that sought to be defended from
oppression ; whose end is both the easier and
the honester to satisfy. Beside, while he hath
the people to friend, who are a multitude, he
hath the less fear of the nobility, who are but
few. Nor let the common proverb (of he that
builds on the people builds on the dirt) discredit
my opinion : for that hath only place where an
ambitious and private person, for some popular
end, trusts in them against the public justice and
magistrate. There they will leave him. But when
a prince governs them, so as they have still need
of his administration (for that is his art) he shall
ever make and hold them faithful,

Clementia. — Machiwvell. — A prince should ex-
ercisehis cruelty not by himself, but by his mini-
sters ; so he may save himself and his dignity
with his people, by sacrificing those when he
list, saith the great doctor of state, Machiavell.
But I say, he puts off man, and goes into a beast,
that is cruel. No virtue is a prince's own, or
becomes him more, than this clemency : and no
glory is greater than to be able to save with his
power. Many punishments sometimes, and in
some cases, as much discredit a prince, as many
funerals a physician, t The state of things is se-
cured by clemency ; severity represseth a few,
but irritates more.d The lopping of trees makes

* Hand injima ars in principc, ubi knitas^ ubi severitas—plfa
polleat in commune bonum caller t.
VOL. IX. O

IK

194 DISCOVERIES.

the boughs shoot out thicker ; and the taking
away of some kind of enemies, increaseth the
number. It is then most gracious in a prince to
pardon, when many about him would make him
cruel ; to think then how much he can save,
when others tell him how much he can destroy ;
not to consider what the impotence of others
hath demolished, but what his own greatness
can sustain. These are a prince's virtues : and
they that gave him other counsels, are but the
hangman's factors,

Clementia tutela optima. — He that is cruet to
halves (saith the said St. Nicholas*) loseth no
less the opportunity of his cruelty than of his
benefits : for then to use his cruelty is too
late ; and to use his favours will be interpreted
fear and necessity, and so he loseth the thanks.
Still the counsel is cruelty. But princes, by
hearkening to cruel counsels, become in time
obnoxious to the authors, their flatterers, and
ministers; and are brought to that, that when
they would, they dare not change them ; they
must go on, and defend cruelty with cruelty ;
they cannot alter the habit. It is then grown
necessary, they must be as ill as those have made
them : and in the end they will grow more hate-
ful to themselves than to their subjects. Whereas,
on the contrary, the merciful prince is safe in
love, not in fear. He needs no emissaries, spies,
intelligencers, to entrap true subjects. He fears
no libels, no treasons. His people speak what
they think, and talk openly what they do in
secret. They have nothing in their breasts that
they need a cypher for. He is guarded with his
own benefits.

* i, e. Machiarell.

DISCOVERIES. 195

Religio. Palladium Homeri. — Euripides. — The
strength of empire is in religion. What else is
the Palladium (with Homer) that kept Troy so
long from sacking? nothing more commends
the sovereign to the subject than it For he that
is religious, must be merciful and just necessa-
rily : and they are two strong ties upon mankind.
Justice is the virtue that innocence rejoiceth in.
Yet even that is not always so safe, but it may
love to stand in the sight of mercy. For some-
times misfortune is made a crime, and then inno-
cence is succoured no less than virtue. Nay,
often-times virtue is made capital ; and through
the condition of the times it may happen, that
that may be punished with our praise. Let no
man therefore murmur at the actions of the
prince, who is placed so far above him. If he
offend, he hath his discoverer. God hath a height
beyond him. But where the prince is good,
Euripides saith, " God is a guest in a human
body/'

Tyranni. — Sejanus. — There is nothing with
some princes sacred above their majesty; or
profane, but what violates their sceptres. But a
prince, with such a council, is like the god Ter-
minus, of stone, his own landmark ; or (as it is
in the fable) a crowned lion. It is dangerous of-
fending such a one ; who being angry, knows
not how to forgive : that cares not to do any
thing for maintaining or enlarging of empire ;
kills not men, or subjects ; but destroyeth whole
countries, armies, mankind, male and female,
guilty or not guilty, holy or profane ; yea, some
that have not seen the light. All is under the
law of iheir spoil and license. But princes that
neglect their proper office thus, their fortune is

02

196 DISCOVERIES.

often- times to draw a Sejanus to be near about
them, who will at last affect to get above them,
and put them in a worthy fear of rooting both
them out and their family. For no men hate an
evil prince more than they that helped to make
him such. And none more boastingly weep his
ruin, than they that procured and practised it.
The same path leads to ruin, which did to rule,
when men profess a license in government. A
good king is a public servant.

Illiteratus princeps. — A prince without letters is
a pilot without eyes. All his government is
groping. In sovereignty it is a most happy thing
not to be compelled ; but so it is the most mi-
serable not to be counselled. And how can he
be counselled that cannot see to read the best
counsellors (which are books;) for they neither
flatter us, nor hide from us ? He may hear, you
will say ; but how shall he always be sure to
hear truth ? or be counselled the best things,
not the sweetest? They say princes learn no art
truly, but the art of horsemanship. The reason
is, the brave beast is no flatterer. He will throw
a prince as soon as his groom. Which is an argu-
ment, that the good counsellors to princes are
the best instruments of a good age. For though
the prince himself be of a most prompt incli-
nation to all virtue ; yet the best pilots have
needs of mariners, besides sails, anchor, and
other tackle.

^»

Character principis. — Alexander magnus.— If men
did know what shining fetters, gilded miseries,
and painted happiness, thrones and sceptres were,
there would not be so frequent strife about the
getting or holding of them : there would be more

DISCOVERIES. 197

principalities than princes : for a prince is the
pastor of the people. He ought to sheer, not to
flay his sheep ; to take their fleeces, not their
fells. Who were his enemies before, being a
private man, become his children now he is
public. He is the soul of the commonwealth, and
ought to cherish it as his own body. Alexander
the Great was wont to say, " He hated that
gardener that plucked his herbs or flowers up
by the roots." A man may milk a beast till the
blood come : churn milk, and ityieldeth butter;
but wring the nose, and the blood followed!.
He is an ill prince that so pulls his subjects' fea-
thers, as he would not have them grow again :
that makes his exchequer a receipt for the spoils
of those he governs. No, let him keep his own,
not affect his subjects' : strive rather to be called
just than powerful. Not, like the Roman tyrants,
affect the surnames that grow by human slaugh-
ters : neither to seek war in peace, nor peace in
war ; but to observe faith given, though to an
enemy. Study piety toward the subject ; shew
care to defend him. Be slow to punish in divers
cases ; but be a sharp and severe revenger of
open crimes. Break no decrees, or dissolve no
orders, to slacken the strength of laws. Choose
neither magistrates civil nor ecclesiastical, by
favour or price : but with long disquisition and
report of their worth, by all suffrages. Sell no
honours, nor give them hastily ; but bestow them
with counsel, and for reward ; if he do, acknow-
ledge it, (though late) and mend it For princes
are easy to be deceived : and what wisdom can
escape, where so many court-arts are studied ?
But above all, the prince is to remember, that
when the great day of account comes, which
neither magistrate nor prince can shun, there

1Q.8 DISCOVERIES.

will be required of him a reckoning for those
whom he hath trusted, as for himself, which he
must provide. And if piety be wanting in the
priests, equity in the judges, or the magistrates
be found rated at a price, what justice or reli-
gion is to be expected? which are the only two
attributes make kings a-kin to God ; and is the
Delphic sword, both to kill sacrifices, and to
chastise offenders,

De gratiosis.—When a virtuous man is raised,
it brings gladness to his friends, grief to his
enemies, and glory to his posterity. Nay, his
honours are a great part of the honour of the
times : when by this means he is grown to
active men an example, to the slothful a spur, to
the envious a punishment.

Diintes. — Hcredes ex asse. — He which is sole
heir to many rich men, having (beside his fa-
ther's and uncle's) the estates of divers his kin-
dred come to him by accession, must needs be
richer than father or grandfather : so they which
are left heirs ex asse of all their ancestors vices ;
and by their good husbandry improve the old,
and daily purchase new, must needs be wealthier
in vice, and have a greater revenue or stock of
ill to spend on.

Fures publici. — The great thieves of a state are
lightly the officers of the crown ; they hang the
less still, play the pikes in the pond, eat whom
they list. The net was never spread for the
hawk or buzzard that hurt us, but the harmless
birds; they are good me'at:

DISCOVERIES. 199

Dal veniam corvis. vexat censura columbasS
JVon rete accipitri tenditur, neque milvio.*

ZezwXI. — But they arenotalways safe though,
especially when they meet with wise masters.
They can take down all the huff and swelling
of their looks ; and like dexterous auditors,
place the counter where he shall value nothing.
Let them but remember Lewis the Eleventh, who
to a clerk of the exchequer that came to be lord
treasurer, and had (for his device) represented
himself sitting on fortune's wheel, told, he
might do well to fasten it with a good strong
nail, lest turning about, it might bring him
where he was again. As indeed it did.

De bonis et mails. — De innocent ia. — A good man
will avoid the spot of any sin. The very asper-
sion is grievous ; which makes him choose his
way in his life, as he would in his journey. The
ill man rides through all confidently ; he is
coated and booted for it. The oftener he offends,
the more openly ; and the fouler, the fitter in
fashion. His modesty, like a riding coat, the
more it is worn, is the less cared for. It is good
enough for the dirt still, and the ways he travels
in. An innocent man needs no eloquence ; his
innocence is instead of it : else I had never come
off so many times from these precipices, whither
men's malice hath pursued me. It is true, I have
been accused to the lords, to the king, and by
great ones : but it happened my accusers had
not thought of the accusation with themselves ;
and so were driven, for want of crimes, to use
invention, which was found slander : or too
late (being entered so fair) to seek starting-holes
* Juvenalis. f Plautus.

200 DISCOVERIES.

for their rashness, which were not given them*
And then they may think what accusation that
was like to prove, when they that were the in-
gineers feared to be the authors. Nor were they
content to feign things against me, but to urge
things feigned by the ignorant against my pro-
fession ; which though, from their hired and
mercenary impudence, I might have passed by,
as granted to a nation of barkers, that let out
their tongues to lick others sores ; yet I durst
not leave myself undefended, having a pair of
ears unskilful to hear lies, or have those things '
said of me, which I could truly prove of them.
They objected making of verses to me, when I
could object to most of them, their not being
able to read them, but as worthy of scorn. Nay,
they would offer to urge mine own writings
against me ; but by pieces (which was an excel-
lent way of malice) as if any man's context might
not seem dangerous and offensive, if that which
was knit to what went before were defrauded of
his beginning ; or that things by themselves
uttered might not seem subject to calumny,
which read in tire, would appear most free. At
last they upbraided my poverty : I confess she
is my domestic; sober of diet, simple of habit,
frugal, painful, a good counseller to me, that
keeps me from cruelty, pride, or other more
delicate impertinences, which are the nurse-
children of riches. But let them look over all
the great and monstrous wickednesses, they shall
never find those in poor families. They are the
issue of the wealthy giants, and the mighty
hunters : whereas no great work, or worthy of
praise or memory, but came out of poor cradles.
It was the ancient poverty that founded com-
monweals, built cities, invented arts, made

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201

wholsome laws, armed men against vices, re-
warded them with their own virtues, and pre-
served the honour and state of nations, till they
betrayed themselves to riches.

Amor nummi. — Money never made any man
rich, hut his inind. He that can order himself to
the law of nature, is not only without the sense,
hut the fear of poverty. O ! but to strike blind
the people with our wealth and pomp, is the
thing ' what a wretchedness is this, to thrust all
our riches outward, and be beggars within ; to
contemplate nothing but the little, vile, and
sordid things of the world ; not the great, noble,
and precious ? we serve our avarice; and not
content with the good of the earth that is of-
fered us, we search and dig for the evil that is
hidden. God offered us those things, and placed
them at hand, and near us, that he knew were
profitable for us ; but the hurtful he laid deep
and hid. Yet do we seek only the things whereby
we may perish ; and bring them forth, when
God and nature hath buried them. We covet
superfluous things, when it were more honour
for us, if we would contemn necessary. What
need hath nature of silver dishes, multitudes of
waiters, delicate pages, perfumed napkins? she
requires meat only, and hunger is not ambitious.
Can we think no wealth enough, but such a state,
for which a man may be brought into a premu-
nire, begged, proscribed, or poisoned ? O ! if a
man could restrain the fury of his gullet, and
groin, and think how many fires, how many
kitchens, cooks, pastures, and ploughed lands ;
what orchards, stews, ponds, and parks, coops
and garners he could spare ; what velvets, tis-
sues, embroideries, laces he could lack ; and

202 DISCOVERIES,

then hoAV short and uncertain his life is ; he were
in a better way to happiness, than to live the
emperor of these delights, and be the dictator of
fashions : but we make ourselves slaves to our
pleasures ; and we serve fame and ambition,
which is an equal slavery. Have not I seen the
pomp of a whole kingdom, and what a foreign
king could bring hither? Also to make himself
gazed and wondered at, laid forth as it were to
the shew, and vanish all away in a day ? And
shall that which could not fill the expectation
of few hours, entertain and take up our whole
lives ? when even it appeared as superfluous to
the possessors, as to me that was a spectator.
The bravery was shewn, it was not possessed ;
while it boasted itself, it perished. It is vile,
and a poor thing to place our happiness on these
desires. Say we wanted them all. Famine ends
famine.

De mollibus et ejfceminatis. — There is nothing
valiant or solid to be hoped for from such as are
always kempt and perfumed, and every day
smell of the tailor; the exceedingly curious,
that are wholly in mending such an imperfection
in the face, in taking away the morphew in the
neck, or bleaching their hands at midnight,
gumming and bridling their beards, or making
the waist small, binding it with hoops, while the
mind runs at waste : too much pickedness is not
manly. Not from those that will jest at their
own outward imperfections, but hide their ulcers
within, their pride, lust, envy, ill-nature, with
all the art and authority they can. These persons
are in danger ; for whilst they think to justify
their ignorance by impudence, and their persons
by clothes and outward ornaments, they use

DISCOVERIES. 203

but a commission to deceive themselves : where,
if we will look with our understanding, and not
our senses, we may behold virtue and beauty
(though covered with rags) in their brightness ;
and vice and deformity so much the fouler, in
having all the splendor of riches to gild them,
or the false light of honour and power to help
them. Yet this is that wherewith the world is
taken, and runs mad to gaze on : clothes and
titles, the birdlime of fools.

De stultitid. — What petty things they are we
wonder at? like children, that esteem every
trifle, and prefer a fairing before their fathers ;
what difference is between us and them ? but
that we are dearer fools, coxcombs at a higher
rate? They are pleased with cockleshells, whis-
tles, hobby-horses, and such like ; we with sta-
tues, marble pillars, pictures, gilded roofs, where
underneath is lath and lime, perhaps loam. Yet
we take pleasure in the lie, and are glad we can
cozen ourselves. Nor is it only in our walls and
ceilings ; but all that we call happiness is mere
painting and gilt ; and all for money : what a
thin membrane of honour that is ? and how hath
all true reputation fallen, since money began to
have any ? yet the great herd, the multitude,
that in all other things are divided, in this alone
conspire and agree ; to love money. They wish
for it, they embrace it, they adore it : while yet
it is possest with greater stir and torment than
it is gotten.

De sibi molestis. — Some men what losses soever
they have, they make them greater : and if they
have none, even all that is not gotten is a loss.
Can there be creatures of more wretched con-

204 DISCOVERIES.

dition than these, that continually labour under
their own misery, and others envy? A man
should study other things, not to covet, not to
fear, not to repent him : to make his base such,
as no tempest shall shake him : to be secure of
all opinion, and pleasing to himself, even for
that wherein he displeaseth others : for the
worst opinion gotten for doing well, should
delight us. Wouldst not thou be just but for
fame, thou oughtest to be it with infamy : he
that would have his virtue published, is not the
servant of virtue, but glory.

Pcriculosa melancholia. — It is a dangerous thing
when men's minds come to sojourn with their
affections, arid their diseases eat into their
strength : that when too much desire and gree-
diness of vice hath made the body unfit, or un-
profitable, it is yet gladded with the sight and
spectacle of it in others ; and for want of ability
to be an actor, is content to be a witness. It
enjoys the pleasure of sinning, inbeholdingothers
sin ; as in dining, drinking, drabbing, Sec. Nay,
when it cannot do all these, it is offended with
his own narrowness, that excludes it from the
universal delights of mankind; and often-times
dies of a melancholy, that it cannot be vicious
enough.

Falsa species fugienda. — I am glad when I see
any man avoid the infamy of a vice ; but to shun
the vice itself were better. Till he do that, he is
but like the prentice, who being loth to be spied
by his master coming forth of Black Lucy's,
went in again ; to whom his master cried, The
more thou runnest that way to hide thyself, the
more thou art in the place. So are those that

DISCOVERIES. £05

keep a tavern all day, that they may not be seen
at night. I have known lawyers, divines, yea,
great ones, of this heresy.

Decipimur specie. — There is a greater reverence
had of things remote or strange to us, than of
much better, if they be nearer, and fall under
our sense. Men, and almost all sort of creatures,
have their reputation by distance. Rivers, the
farther they run, and more from their spring,
the broader they are, and greater. And where
our original is known, we are the less confident :
among strangers we trust fortune. Yet a man
may live as renowned at home, in his own coun-
try, or a private village, as in the whole world.
For it is virtue that gives glory; that will en-
denizen a man every where. It is only that can
naturalize him. A native, if he be vicious, de*-
serves to be a stranger, and cast out of the com-
monwealth as an alien.

Dejectio Aulic. — A dejected countenance, and
mean clothes, beget often a contempt, but it is
with the shallowest creatures ; courtiers com-
monly : look up even with them in a new suit,
you get above them straight. Nothing is more
short-lived than pride ; it is but while their
clothes last : stay but while these are worn out,
you cannot wish the thing more wretched or
dejected.

Poesis, etpictura. — Plutarch. — Poetry and picture
are arts of a like nature, and both are busy about
imitation. It was excellently said of Plutarch,
poetry was a speaking picture, and picture a
mute poesy. For they both invent, feign, and
devise many things, and accommodate all they

206' DISCOVERIES.

invent to the use and service of nature. Yet of
the two, the pen is more noble than the pencil ;
for that can speak to the understanding; the
other but to the sense. They both behold plea-
sure and profit, as their common object ; but
should abstain from all base pleasures, lest they
should err from their end, and while they seek
to better men's minds, destroy their manners,
They both are born artificers, not made. Nature
is more powerful in them than study.

De Pictura. — Whosoever loves not picture, is
injurious to truth, and all the wisdom of poetry.
Picture is the invention of heaven, the most an-
cient, and most akin to nature. It is itself a
silent work, and always of one and the same
habit : yet it doth so enter and penetrate the
inmost affection (being done by an excellent
artificer) as sometimes it overcomes the power
of speech and oratory. There are divers graces
in it ; so are there in the artificers. One excels
in care, another in reason, a third in easiness, a
fourth in nature and grace. Some have diligence
and comeliness ; but they want majesty. They
can express a human form in all the graces,
sweetness, and elegancy ; but they miss the au-
thority. They can hit nothing but smooth cheeks ;
they cannot express roughness or gravity. Others
aspire to truth so much, as they are rather lovers
of likeness than beauty. Zeuxis and Parrhasius
are said to be contemporaries : the first found
out the reason of lights and shadows in picture*;
the other more subtlely examined the line.

De stylo. — Pliny. — In picture light is required
no less than shadow : so in style, height as well
as humbleness. But beware they be not too

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207

humble ; as Pliny pronounced of Regulus's writ-
ings. You would think them written not on a
child, but by a child. Many, out of their own
obscene apprehensions, refuse proper and fit
words ; as occupy, nature, and the like : so the
curious industry in some of having all alike good,
hath come nearer a vice than a virtue.

De pr ogres. Picture?* — Picture took her feign-
ing from poetry ; from geometry her rule, com-
pass, Hues, proportion, and the whole symmetry.
Parrhasius was the first won reputation, by ad-
ding symmetry to picture : he added subtlety
to the countenance, elegancy to the hair, love-
lines to the face, and by the public voice of all
artificers, deserved honour in the outer lines.
Eupompus gave it splendor by numbers, and
other elegancies. From the optics it drew reasons,
by which it considered how things placed at
distance, and afar off, should appear less : how
above or beneath the head should deceive the
eye, Sec. So from thence it took shadows, re-
cessor, light, and heightnings. From moral phi-
losophy it took the soul, the expression of senses,
perturbations, manners, when they would paint
an angry person, a proud, an inconstant, an am-
bitious, a brave, a magnanimous, a just, a mer-
ciful, a compassionate, an humble, a dejected, a
base, and the like; they made all heightnings
bright, all shadows dark, all swellings from a
plane, all solids from breaking. See where he
complains of their painting Chimeeras,b by the

• Parrhasius. Eupompus. Socrates. Parrhasius. Clito. Poly-
gnotus. Aglaopbon Zeuxis. Parrhasius. Raphael de Urbino.
Mien. Augelo Buonarota. Titian. Antony de Correg. Sebast.
de Vciiet. Julio Romano. Andrea Sartorio.

b Pirn. lib. 35. c. 2. 5, 6, and 7. Vitru?. lib. 8, and 7.

208 DISCOVERIES.

vulgar unaptly called grotesque : saying, that
men who were born truly to study and emulate
nature, did nothing but make monsters against
nature, which Horace so laughed at.c The art
plastic was moulding in clay, or potters earth
anciently. This is the parent of statuary, sculp-
ture, graving, and picture ; cutting in brass and
marble, all serve under her. Socrates taught
Parrhasius, and Clito (two noble statuaries) first
to express manners by their looks in imagery.
Polygnotus and Aglaophon were ancienter.
After them Zeuxis, who was the law-giver to all
painters ; after, Parrhasius. They were contem-
poraries, and lived both about Philip's time, the
father of Alexander the Great. There lived in
this latter age six famous painters in Italy, who
were excellent and emulous of the ancients ;
Raphael de Urbino, Michael Angelo Buonarota,
Titian, Antony of Correggio, Sebastian of Ve-
nice, Julio Romano, and Andrea Sartorio.

Parasiti ad mensam. — These are flatterers for
their bread, that praise all my oraculous lord
does or says, be it true or false : invent tales
that shall please; make baits for his lordship's
ears ; and if they be not received in what they
offer at, they shift a point of the compass, and
turn their tale, presently tack about, deny what
they confessed, and confess what they denied ;
fit their discourse to the persons and occasions.
What they snatch up and devour at one table,
utter at another: and grow suspected of the
master, hated of the servants, whiiethey enquire,
and reprehend, and compound, and delate busi-
ness of the house they have nothing to do with :
they praise my lord's wine, and the sauce he

c Herat, in arte poet.

DISCOVERIES. 209

likes; observe the cook and bottle-man, while
they stand in my lord's favour, speak for a pen-
sion for them ; but pound them to dust upon my
lord's least distaste, or change of his palate.

How much better is it to be silent, or at least
to speak sparingly ! for it is not enough to speak
good but timely things. If a man be asked a
question, to answer ; but to repeat the question
before he answer is well, that he be sure to un-
derstand it, to avoid absurdity : for it is less dis-
honour to hear imperfectly, than to speak im-
perfectly. The ears are excused, the understand-
ing is not. And in things unknown to a man,
not to give his opinion, lest by the affectation
of knowing too much, he lose tne credit he hath
by speaking of knowing the wrong way, what
he utters. Nor seek to get his patron's favour,
by embarking himself in the factions of the fa-
mily: to enquire after domestic simulties, their
sports or affections. They are an odious and vile
kind of creatures, that fly about the house all
day, and picking up the filth of the house, like
pies or swallows carry it to their nest (the lord's
ears) and often-times report the lies they have
feigned, for what they have seen and heard.

Imd serviles. — These are called instruments of
grace and power, with great persons ; but they
are indeed the organs of their impotency, and
marks of weakness. For sufficient lords are able
to make these discoveries themselves. Neither
will an honourable person enquire who eats and
drinks together, what that man plays, whom this
man loves, with whom such a one walks, what
discourse they held, who sleeps with whom.
They are base and servile natures, that busy
themselves about these disquisitions. How often

VOL. IX. P

210 DISCOVERIES.

have I seen (and worthily) these censors of the
family undertaken by some honest rustic, and
cudgelled thriftily ? These are commonly the
off-scowering and dregs of men that do these
things, or calumniate others: yet I know not
truly which is worse, he that maligns all, or that
praises all. There is as great a vice in praising,
and as frequent, as in detracting.

It pleased your lordship of late, to ask my
opinion touching the education of your sons,
and especially to the advancement of their stu-
dies. To which, though I returned somewhat
for the present, which rather manifested a will
in me, than gave any just resolution to the thing
propounded ; I have upon better cogitation
called those aids about me, both of mind and
memory, which shall venture my thoughts
clearer, if not fuller, to your lordship's demand.
I confess, my lord, they will seem but petty and
minute things I shall offer to you, being writ
for children, and of them. But studies have their
infancy, as well as creatures. We see in men
even the strongest compositions had their be-
ginnings from milk and the cradle ; and the
wisest tarried sometimes about apting their
mouths to letters and syllabes. In their educa-
tion, therefore, the care must be the greater had
of their beginnings, to know, examine, and
weigh their natures ; which though they be
pronex in some children to some disciplines ; yet
are they naturally prompt to taste all by degrees,
and with change. For change is a kind of re-
freshing in studies, and inf'useth knowledge by
way of recreation. Thence the school itself is
called a play or game : and all letters are so best
taught to scholars. They should not be affrighted
or deterred in their entry, but drawn on with

DISCOVERIES. 211

exercise and emulation. A youth should not be
made to hate study, before he know the causes
to love it; or taste the bitterness before the
sweet; but called on and allured, intreated and
praised: yea, when he deserves it not. For which
cause I wish them sent to the best school, and a
public, which I think the best. Your lordship, I
fear, hardly hears of that, as willing to breed
them in your eye, and at home, and doubting
their manners may be corrupted abroad, They
are in more danger in your own family, among
ill servants (allowing they be safe in their school-
master) than amongst a thousand boys, however
immodest. Would we did not spoil our own chil-
dren, and overthrow their manners ourselves by
too much indulgence! To breed them at home,
is to breed them in a shade ; where in a school
they have the light and heat of the sun. They
are used and accustomed to things and men.
When they come forth into the commonwealth,
they find nothing new, or to seek. They have
made their friendships and aids, some to last
their age. They hear what is commanded to
others as well as themselves. Much approved,
much corrected ; all which they bring to their
own store and use, and learn as much as they
hear. Eloquence would be but a poor thing, if
we should only converse with singulars; speak
but man and man together. Therefore I like no
private breeding, I would send them where
their industry shouldbe daily increased by praise;
and that kindled by emulation. It ia a good
thing to inflame the mind, and though ambition
itself be a vice, it is often the cause of great
virtue. Give me that wit whom praise excites,
glory puts on, or disgrace grieves ; he is to be
nourished with ambition, pricked forward with

212 DISCOVERIES.

honour, checked with reprehension, and never
to be suspected of sloth. Though he be given to
play, it is a sign of spirit and liveliness, so there
be a mean had of their sports and relaxations.
And from the rod or ferule, I would have them
free, as from the menace of them ; for it is both
deformed and servile.

De stylo, et Optimo scribendi genere. — For a man
to write well, there are required three necessa-
ries : to read the best authors, observe the best
speakers, and much exercise of his own style.
In style to consider what ought to be written,
and after what manner; he must first think and
excogitate his matter, then choose his words,
and examine the weight of either. Then take
care in placing arid ranking both matter and
words, that the composition be comely, and to
do this with diligence and often. No matter
how slow the style be at first, so it be laboured
and accurate ; seek the best, and be not glad of
the froward conceits, or first words, that offer
themselves to us ; but judge of what we invent,
and order what we approve. Repeat often what
we have formerly written ; which beside that it
helps the consequence, and makes the juncture
better, it quickens the heat of imagination, that
often cools in the time of setting down, and
gives it new strength, as if it grew lustier by
the going back. As we see in the contention of
leaping, they jump farthest, that fetch their race
largest: or, as in throwing a dart or javelin, -we
force back our arms, to make our loose the
stronger. Yet, if we have a fair gale of wind, I
forbid not the steering out of our sail, so the
favour of the gale deceive us not. For all that
we invent doth please us in conception of birth,

DISCOVERIES. 213

else we would never set it down. But the safest
is to return to our judgment, and handle over-
again those things, the easiness of which might
make them justly suspected. So did the best
writers in their beginnings ; they imposed upon
themselves care and industry ; they did nothing
rashly: they obtained first to write well, and
then custom made it easy and a habit. By little
and little their matter shewed itself to them
more plentifully; their words answered, their
composition followed ; and all, as in a well-or-
dered family, presented itself in the place. So
that the sum of all is, ready writing makes not
good writing ; but good writing brings on ready
writing : yet, when we think we have got the
faculty, it is even then good to resist it ; as to
give a horse a check sometimes with a bit, which
doth not so much stop his course, as stir his
mettle. Again, whether a man's genius is best
able to reach thither, it should more and more
contend, lift, and dilate itself, as men of low
stature raise themselves on their toes, and so
oft-times get even, if not eminent. Besides, as it
is fit for grown and able writers to stand of
themselves, and work with their own strength,
to trust and endeavour by their own faculties :
so it is fit for the beginner and learner to study
others and the best. For the mind and memory
are more sharply exercised in comprehending
another man's things than our own ; and such as
accustom themselves, and are familiar with the
best authors, shall ever and anon find somewhat
of them in themselves, and in the expression of
their minds, even when they feel it not, be able
to utter something like theirs, which hath an
authority above their own. Nay, sometimes it is
the reward of a man's study, the praise of quoting

DISCOVERIES.

another man fitly : and though a man be more
prone, and ahle for one kind of writing than
another, yet lie must exercise all. For as in an
instrument, so in style, there must be a harmony
and consent of parts.

Prcecipiendi modi — I take this labour in teach-
ing others, that they should not be always to be
tauoht and I would bring my precepts into
practice : for rules are ever of less force and
value- than experiments; yet with this purpose,
rather to shew the right way to those that come
after, than to detect any that have slipt before
by error, and I hope it will be more profitable.
For men do more willingly listen, and with more
favour, to precept, than reprehension. Among
divers opinions of an art, and most of them con-
trary in themselves, it is hard to make election ;
and therefore though a man cannot invent new
things after so many, he may do a welcome work
yet to help posterity to judge rightly of the old.
But arts and precepts avail nothing, except na-
ture be beneficial and aiding. And therefore
these things are no more written to a dull dispo-
sition, than rules of husbandry to a soil. No
precepts will profit a fool, no more than beauty
will the blind, or music the deaf. As we should
take care that our style in writing be neither
dry nor empty ; we should look again it be not
winding, or wanton with far-fetched descriptions ;
either is a vice. But that is worse which pro-
ceeds out of want, than that which riots out of
plenty. The remedy of fruitfulness is easy, but
no labour will help the contrary; I will like and
praise some things in a young writer; which

et, if he continue in, I cannot but justly hate
lim for the same. There is a time to be given

z

DISCOVERIES. 215

all things for maturity, and that even your
country husbandman can teach ; who to a young
plant will not put the pruning knife, because it
seems to fear the iron, as not able to admit the
scar. No more would I tell a green writer all his
faults, lest I should make him grieve and faint,
and at last despair. For nothing doth more hurt
than to make him so afraid of all things, as he
can endeavour nothing. Therefore youth ought
to be instructed betimes, and in the best things ;
for we hold those longest we take soonest : as
the first scent of a vessel lasts, and the tinctthe
wool first receives ; therefore a master should
temper his own powers, and descend to the other's
infirmity. If you pour a glut of water upon a
bottle, it receives little of it; but with afunnell,
and by degrees, you shall fill many of them, and
spill little of your own ; to their capacity they
will all receive and be full. And as it is fit to
read the best authors to youth first, so let them
be of the openest and clearest.4 As Livy before
Sallust, Sidney before Donne : and beware of
letting them taste Govver, or Chaucer at first,
lest falling too much in love with antiquity, and
not apprehending the weight, they grow rough
and barren in language only. When their judg-
ments are firm, and out of danger, let them read
both the old and the new ; but no less take heed
that their new flowers and sweetness do not as
much corrupt as the others dryness and squalor,
if they choose not carefully. Spenser, in affecting
the ancients, writ no language ; yet I would
have him read for his matter, but as Virgil read
Ennius. The reading of Homer and Virgil is
counselled by Quintilian, as the best way of

d Livy. Sallust. Sidney. Donne. Gower. Chaucer. Spenser.
Virgil. Ennius. Homer. Quintilian. Plautus. Terence.

DISCOVERIES.

informing youth, and confirming man. For,
besides that the mind is raised with the height
and sublimity of such a verse, it takes spirit
from the greatness of the matter, and is tincted
with the best things. Tragic and lyric poetry
is good too, and comic with the best, if the
manners of the reader be once in safety. In the
Greek poets, as also in Plautus, we shall see the
economy and disposition of poems better ob-
served than in Terence ; and the latter, who
thought the sole grace and virtue of their fable
the sticking in of sentences, as ours do the forc-
ing in of jests.

Fals. querd. fugiend. — Platonis peregrinatio in
Italiam. — We should not protect our sloth with
the patronage of difficulty. It is a false quarrel
against nature, that she helps understanding but
in a few, when the most part of mankind are
inclined by her thither, if they would take the
pains; no less than birds to fly, horses to run,
&c. which if they lose, it is through their own
sluggishness, and by that means become her
prodigies, not her children. I confess, nature in
children is more patient of labour in study, than
in age ; for the sense of the pain, the judgment
of the labour is absent, they do not measure
what they have done. And it is the thought and
consideration that affects us more than the wea-
riness itself. Plato was not content with the
learning that Athens could give him, but sailed
into Italy, for Pythagoras' knowledge : and yet
not thinking himself sufficiently informed, went
into Egypt, to the priests, and learned their
mysteries He laboured, so must we. Many
things n.ay be learned together, and performed
in one point of time ; as musicians exercise their

DISCOVERIES. 217

memory, their voice, their fingers, and some-
times their head and feet at once. And so a
preacher, in the invention of matter, election of
words, composition of gesture, look, pronunci-
ation motion, useth all these faculties at once :
and if we can express this variety together, why
should not divers studies, at divers hours, de-
light, when the variety is able alone to refresh
and repair us ? As when a man is weary of wri-
ting, to read ; and then again of reading, to
write. Wherein, howsoever we do many things,
yet are we (in a sort) still fresh to what we begin ;
we are recreated with change, as the stomach is
with meats. But some will say, this variety
breeds confusion, and makes, that either we lose
all, or hold no more than the last. Why do we
not then persuade husbandmen that they should
not till land, help it with marie, lime, and com-
post r plant hop-gardens, prune trees, look to
bee-hives, rear sheep, and all other cattle at once?
It is easier to do many things and continue, than
to do one thing long.

Prcecept. element. — It is not the passing through
these learnings that hurts us, but the dwelling
and sticking about them. To descend to those
extreme anxieties and foolish cavils of gram-
marians, is able to break a wit in pieces, being
a work of manifold misery and vainness, to be
ekmentarii senes. Yet even letters are as it were
the bank of words, and restore themselves to an
author, as the pawns of language : but talking
and eloquence are not the same : to speak, and
to speak well, are two things. A fool may talk,
but a wise man speaks, and out of the observa-
tion, knowledge, and the use of things, many
writers perplex their readers and hearers with

218 DISCOVERIES.

mere nonsense. Their writings need sunshine.
Pure and neat language I love, yet plain and
customary. A barbarous phrase has often made
me out of love with a good sense, and doubtful
writing hath wracked me beyond my patience.
The reason why a poet is said that he ought to
have all knowledges is, that he should not be ig-
norant of the most, especially of those he will
handle. And indeed, when the attaining of them
is possible, it were a sluggish and base thing to
despair. For frequent imitation of any thing
becomes a habit quickly. If a man should pro-
secute as much as could be said of every thing,
his work would find no end.

De orationis dignitate. — EvxwtAoTzWaa. — Meta-
phora. — Speech is the only benefit man hath
to express his excellency of mind above other
creatures. It is the instrument of society ;
therefore Mercury, who is the president of
language, is called Dcorum hominumque inter-
pres. In all speech, words and sense are as the
body and the soul. The sense is, as the life
and soul of language, without which all words
are dead. Sense is wrought out of experience,
the knowledge of human life and actions, or of
the liberal arts, which the Greeks called
E»/xuxAo7rtti(taai<. Words are the people's, yet there
is a choice of them to be made. For Verborum
delectus origo est eloquentice.* They are to be chose
according to the persons we make speak, or the
things we speak of. Some are of the camp, some
of the council-board, some of the shop, some of
the sheep-cote, some of the pulpit, some of the
bar, &c. And herein is seen their elegance and

6 Julius Caesar. Of words, see Hor. de Art. Poet. Quintil.
1. 8. Ludov. Viyes? p. 6 and 7«

DISCOVERIES. 219

propriety, when we use them fitly, and draw
them forth to their just strength and nature, by
way of translation or metaphor. But in this trans-
lation we must only serve necessity (Nam te-
merk nihil transfertiir d prudenti), or commodity,
which is a kind of necessity : that is, when we
either absolutely want a word to express by, and
that is necessity ; or when we have not so fit a
word, and that is commodity ; as when we avoid
loss by it, and escape obsceneness, and gain in the
grace and property which helps significance.
Metaphors far-fet, hinder to be understood ;
and affected, lose their grace. Or when the per-
son fetcheth his translations from a wrong place.
As if a privy-counsellor should at the table take
his metaphor from a dicing-house, or ordinary,
or a vintner's vault ; or a justice of peace draw
his similitudes from the mathematics, or a divine
from a bawdy-house, or taverns ; or a gentleman
of Northamptonshire, Warwickshire, or the
Midland, should fetch all the illustrations to his
country neighbours from shipping, and tell them
of the main-sheet and the boulin. Metaphors
are thus many times deformed, as in him that
said, Castratam morte Africani rempublicam. And
another, Stercus curicz Glauciam. And Cand nvvt
conspuit Alpes. All attempts that are new in this
kind, are dangerous, and somewhat hard, before
they be softened with use. A man coins not a
new word without some peril, and less fruit ; for
if it happen to be received, the praise is but mo-
derate ; if refused, the scorn is assured. Yet
we must adventure ; for things, at first hard and
rough, are by use made tender and gentle. It is
an honest error that is committed, following
great chiefs.

220 DISCOVERIES.

Consuetudo. — Perspicuitas, Venustas. — Authori-
tas.— VirgiL — Lucretius. — Chaucerism. — Parono-
masia,— Custom is the most certain mistress of
language, as the public stamp makes the current
money. But we must not be too frequent with
the mint, every day coining, nor fetch words
from the extreme and utmost ages ; since the
chief virtue of a style is perspicuity, and nothing
so vicious in it as to need an interpreter. Words
borrowed of antiquity do lend a kind of majesty
to style, and are not without their delight some-
times. For they have the authority of years, and
out of their intermission do win themselves a
kind of grace-like newness. But the eldest of
the present, and newness of the past language,
is the best. For what was the ancient language,
which some men so dote upon, but the ancient
custom ? yet when I name custom, I understand
not the vulgar custom ; for that were a precept
no less dangerous to language than life, if we
should speak or live after the manners of the
vulgar : but that I call custom of speech, which
is the consent of the learned ; as custom of life,
which is the consent of the good. Virgil was
most loving of antiquity; yet how rarely doth
he insert aquai, and pictai I Lucretius is scabrous
and rough in -these ; he seeks them : as some do
Chaucerisms with us, which were better expunged
and banished. Some words are to be culled out
for ornament and colour, as we gather flowers
to strow houses, or make garlands ; but they are
better when they grow to our style ; as in a-
meadow, where though the mere grass and
greenness delight, yet the variety of flowers
doth heighten and beautify. Marry we must not
play or riot too much with them, as in Parono-
masies ; nor use too swelling or ill-sounding

DISCOVERIES.

words ; Quce per salebras, altaque saxa cadunt. It
is true, there is no sound but shall find some
lovers, as the bitterest confections are grateful
to some palates. Our composition must be more
accurate in the beginning and end than in the
midst, and in the end more than in the begin-
ning ; for through the midst the stream bears us.
And this is attained by custom more than care
or diligence. We must express readily and fully,
not profusely. There is difference between a
liberal and prodigal hand. As it is a great point
of art, when our matter requires it, to enlarge
and veer out all sail ; so to take it in and con-
tract it, is of no less praise, when the argument
doth ask it. Either of them hath their fitness in
the place. A good man always profits by his en-
deavour, by his help, yea, when he is absent,
nay, when he is dead, by his example and me-
mory. So good authors in their style: a strict
and succinct style is that, where you can take
away nothing without loss, and that loss to be
manifest.

De Stylo. — Tacitus^. — The Laconic. — Suetonius. —
Seneca, andFabianus, — The brief style is that which
expresseth much in little. The concise style,
which expresseth not enough, but leaves some-
what to be understood. The abrupt style, which
hath many breaches, and doth not seem to end,
but fall. The congruent and harmonious fitting
of parts in a sentence hath almost the fastening
and force of knitting and connection ; as in
stones well squared, which will rise strong a
great way without mortar.

Periodi.- Obscuritas ojfundit tenebras. — Super*
latio. — Periods are beautiful, when they are not
too long ; for so they have their strength too,
as in a pike or javelin. As we must take the care

DISCOVERIES.

that our words and sense be clear ; so if the
obscurity happen through the hearer's or reader's
want of understanding, I am not to answer for
them, no more than for their not listening or
marking; I must neither find them ears nor mind.
But a man cannot put a word so in sense, but
something about it will illustrate it, if the writer
understand himself. For order helps much to
perspicuity, as confusion hurts. Rectitude lucem
adfcrt ; obliqidtas et clrcumductio offmcat. We
should therefore speak what we can the rfearest
way, so as we keep our gait, not leap ; for too
short may as well be not let into the memory,
as too long not kept in. Whatsoever loseth the
grace and clearness, converts into a riddle : the
obscurity is marked, but not the value. That
perisheth, and is passed by; like the pearl in the
fable. Our style should be like a skein of silk,
to be carried and found by the right thread, not
ravelled and perplexed; then all is a knot, a
heap. There are words that do as much raise a
style, as others can depress it, Superlation and
over-muchness amplifies. It may be above faith,
but never above a mean. It was ridiculous in
Cestius, when he said of Alexander:

Fremit oceanus, quasi indignetur, qudd terras rt+
linquas ;

But propitiously from Virgil:

Credas innare revulsas

Cycladas.

He doth not say it was so, but seemed to be
so. Although it be somewhat incredible, that is
excused before it be spoken. But there are

DISCOVERIES. 223

hyperboles which will become one language,
that will by no means admit another. As Eos esse
P. R. exercitus, qui cesium possint perrumpere,1
who would say with us, but a madman? There-
fore we must consider in every tongue what is
used, what received. Quintilian warns us, that
in no kind of translation, or metaphor, or alle-
gory, we make a turn from what we began ; as
if we fetch the original of our metaphor from
sea, and billows, we end not in flames and ashes :
it is almost foul inconsequence. Neither must
we draw out our allegory too long, lest either
we make ourselves obscure, or fall into affecta-
tion, which is childish. But why do men depart
at all from the right and natural ways of speak-
ing ? sometimes for necessity, when we are
driven, or think it fitter to speak that in obscure
words, or by circumstance, which uttered plainly
would offend the hearers. Or to avoid obscene-
ness, or sometimes for pleasure, and variety, as
travellers turn out of the highway, drawn either
by the commodity of a foot-path, or the delicacy
or freshness of the fields. And all this is called
^ or figured language.

Oratio imago animi. — Language most shews a
man : Speak, that I may see thee. It springs out
of the most retired and inmost parts of us, and
is the image of the parent of it, the mind. No
glass renders a man's form, or likeness so true
as his speech. Nay, it is likened to a man : and
as we consider feature and composition in a man,
so words in language ; in the greatness, aptness,
sound, structure, and harmony of it.

Structura ef statura, sublimis, humilis, pumila* —
Some men are tall and big, so some language is

{ Caesar, Comment, circa fin.

224 DISCOVERIES.

high and great. Then the words are chosen, their
sound ample, the composition full, the absolution
plenteous, and poured out, all grave, sinewy,
and strong. Some are little and dwarfs ; so of
speech it is humble and low, the words poor and
flat, the members and periods thin and weak,
without knitting or number.

Mediocris plana et placida. — The middle are of
a just stature. There the language is plain and
pleasing ; even without stopping, round without
swelling : all well-torned, composed, elegant,
and accurate.

Vitiosa oratio, 'vast a — tumens — enormis — af-
fect ata — abjecta — The vicious language is vast,
'and gaping, swelling, and irregular: when it
contends to be high, full of rock, mountain, and
pointedness : as it affects to be low, it is abject,
and creeps, full of bogs and holes. And accord-
ing to their subject these styles vary, and Jose
their names: for that which is high and lofty,
declaring excellent matter, becomes vast and
tumorous, speaking of petty and inferior things:
so that which was even and apt in a mean and
plain subject, will appear most poor and humble
in a high argument. Would you not laugh to
meet a great counsellor of state in a flat cap,
with his trunk hose, and a hobby-horse cloak,
his gloves under his girdle, and yoncl haber-
dasher in a velvet gown, furred with sables ?
There is a certain latitude in these things, by
which we find the degrees.

Figura. — The next thing to the stature, is tire
figure and feature in language ; that is, whether
it be round and straight, which consists of short
and succinct periods, numerous and polished, or
square and firm, which is to have equal and strong
parts every where answerable, and weighed.

DISCOVERIES. 225

Cutis sive cortex. Compositio. — The third is the
skin and coat, which rests in the well-joining,
cementing, and coagmentation of words ; when
as it is smooth, gentle, and sweet, like a table
upon which you may run your finger without
rubs, and your nail cannot find a joint; not hor-
rid, rough, wrinkled, gaping, or chapt : after
these, the flesh, blood, and bones come in
question.

Carnosa — adipata — redundans. — We say it is
a fleshy style, when there is much periphrasis,
and circuit of words ; and when with more than
enough, it grows fat and corpulent ; arvina ora-
tionis, full of suet and tallow. It hath blood and
juice when the words are proper and apt, their
sound sweet, and the phrase neat and picked.
Oratio uncta, et bend pasta. But where there is
redundancy, both the blood and juice are faulty
and vicious: Redundat sanguine, quid mult b plus
dicit, quam necesse est. Juice in language is some-
what less than blood ; for if the words be but
becoming and signifying, and the sense gentle,
there is juice; but where that wanteth, the
language is thin, flagging, poor, starved, scarce
covering the bone, and shews like stones in a
sack.

Jejuna, maciknta, strigosa.—Ossea, et nervosa. —
Some men, to avoid redundancy, run into that;
and while they strive to have no ill blood or
juice, they lose their good. There be some styles
again, that have not less blood, but less flesh and
corpulence. These are bony and sinewy ; Ossa
habent, et nervos,

Notce domini Sti. Albani de doctrin. intemper. —
Dictator. — Aristo teles. — It was well noted by the

VOL. IX. Q

226 DISCOVERIES.

late lord St. Alban, that the study of words is
the first distemper of learning ; vain matter the
second ; and a third distemper is deceit, or the
likeness of truth ; imposture held up by credu-
lity. All these are the cobwebs of learning, and
to let them grow in us, is either sluttish, or
foolish. Nothing is more ridiculous than to make
an author a dictator, as the schools have clone
Aristotle. The damage is infinite knowledge re-
ceives by it ; for to many things a man should
owe but a temporary belief, and suspension of
his own judgment, not an absolute resignation
of himself, or a perpetual captivity. Let Aristotle
and others have their dues ; but if we can make
farther discoveries of truth and fitness than they,
why are we envied ? Let us beware, while we
strive to add, we do not diminish, or deface; we
may improve, but not augment. By discrediting
falsehood, truth grows in request. We must not
go about, like men anguished and perplexed, for
vicious affectation of praise : but calmly study
the separation of opinions, find the errors have
intervened, awake antiquity, call former times
into question; but make no parties with the
present, nor follow any fierce undertakers, min-
gle no matter of doubtful credit with the sim-
plicity of trutl^ but gently stir the mould about
the root of the question, and avoid all digladia-
tions, facility of credit, or superstitious simpli-
city, seek the consonancy, and concatenation of
truth ; stoop only to point of necessity, and
what leads to convenience. Then make exact
animadversion where style hath degenerated,
where flourished and thrived in choiceness of
phrase, round and clean composition of sentence,
sweet falling of the clause, varying an illustra-

DISCOVERIES. 227

tion by tropes and figures, weight of matter,
worth of subject, soundness of argument, life of
invention, and depth of judgment. This is monte
potiri, to get the hill ; for no perfect discovery
can be made upon a flat or a level.

De optimo scriptore. — Cicero. — Now that I have
informed you in the knowing these things, let
me lead you by the hand a little farther, in the
direction of the use, and make you an able writer
by practice. The conceits of the mind are pic-
tures of things, and the tongue is the interpreter
of those pictures. The order of God's creatures
in themselves is not only admirable and glorious,
but eloquent : then he who could apprehend the
consequence of things in their truth, and utter
his apprehensions as truly, were the best writer
or speaker. Therefore Cicero said much, when
he said, Dlcere recte nemo potest, nisi qui prudent er
intelligit. The shame of speaking unskilfully
were small, if the tongue only thereby were dis-
graced ; but as the image of a king, in his seal
ill represented, is not so much a blemish to the
wax, or the signet that sealed it, as to the prince
it representeth ; so disordered speech is not so
much injury to the lips that give it forth, as to
the disproportion and incoherence of things in
themselves, so negligently expressed. Neither
can his mind be thought to be in tune, whose
words do jar; nor his reason in frame, whose
sentence is preposterous ; nor his elocution clear
and perfect, whose utterance breaks itself into
fragments and uncertainties. Were it not a dis-
honour to a mighty prince, to have the majesty
of his embassage spoiled by a careless ambassa-
dor ? and is it not as great an indignity, that an
excellent conceit and capacity, by the indiligence

Q 2

228 DISCOVERIES.

of an idle tongue, should be disgraced ? Negli-
gent speech doth not only discredit the person
of the speaker, hut it discreditelh the opinion
of his reason and judgment; it discrediteth the
force and uniformity of the matter and substance.
If it be so then in words, which fly and escape
censure, and where one good phrase begs pardon
for many incongruities and faults, how shall he
then be thought wise, whose penning is thin and
shallow? how shall you look for wit from him,
-whose leisure and head, assisted with the exa-
mination of his eyes, yield you no life or sharp-
ness in his writing?

De stylo epistolari. — Inventio. — In writing there
is to be regarded the invention and the fashion.
For the invention, that ariseth upon your business
whereof there can be no rules of more certainty,
or precepts of better direction given, than con-
jecture can lay down, from the several occasions
of men's particular lives and vocations : but
sometimes men make baseness of kindness : As
" I could not satisfy myself till I had discharged
" my remembrance, and charged my letters
" with commendation to you :" or, " My busi-
" ness is no other than to testify my love to you,
" and to put you in mind of my willingness to
" do you all kind offices :" or, " Sir, have you
" leisure to descend to the remembering of that
" assurance you have long possest in your ser-
" vant, and upon your next opportunity make
11 him happy with some commands from your"
or the like ; that go a begging for some meaning,
and labour to be delivered of the great burden
of nothing. When you have invented, and that
your business be matter, and not bare form, or
mere ceremony, but some earnest, then are you

DISCOVERIES. 229

to proceed to the ordering of it, and digesting
the parts, which is had out of two circumstances.
One is the understanding of the persons to whom
you are to write ; the other is the coherence of
your sentence For men's capacity to weigh
what will be apprehended with greatest attention
or leisure ; what next regarded and longed for
especially, and what last will leave satisfaction,
and (as it were) the sweetest memorial and be-
lief of all that is past in his understanding whom
you write to. For the consequence of sentences,
you must be sure that every clause do give the
Q. one to the other, and be bespoken ere it come.
So much for invention and order.

Modus. — 1. Brevitas. — Now for fashion: it
consists in four things, which are qualities of
your style. The first is brevity: for they must
not be treatises, or discourses (your letters) ex-
cept it be to learned men. And even among them
there is a kind of thrift and saving of words.
Therefore you are to examine the clearest pas-
sages of your understanding, and through them
to convey the sweetest and most significant
words you can devise, that you may the easier
teach them the readiest way to another man's
apprehension, and open their meaning fully,
roundly, and distinctly ; so as the reader may
not think a second view cast away upon your
letter. And though respect be a part following
this, yet now here, and still I must remember it
if you write to a man, whose estate and cense'
as senses, you are familiar with, you may the
bolder (to set a task to his brain) venture on a
knot. But if to your superior you are bound to
measure him in three farther points : first, with
interest in him ; secondly, his capacity in your
letters ; thirdly, his leisure to peruse them. For

230 DISCOVERIES.

your interest or favour with him, you are to be
the shorter or longer, more familiar or submiss,
as he will afford you time. For his capacity, you
are to be quicker and fuller of those reaches
and glances of wit or learning, as he is able to
entertain them. For his leisure, you are com-
manded to the greater briefness, as his place
is of greater discharges and cares. But with your
betters, you are not to put riddles of wit, by
being too scarce of words : not to cause the
trouble of making breviates by writing too rio-
tous and wastingly. Brevity is attained in matter,
by avoiding idle compliments, prefaces, protes-
tations, parentheses, superfluous circuit of figures
and digressions : in the composition, by omitting
conjunctions [not only, but also; both the one
and the other, whereby it comet h to pass] and
such like idle particles, that have no great busi-
ness in a serious letter but breaking of sentences,
as oftentimes a short journey is made long by
unnecessary baits.

Quintilian. — But, as Quintilian saith, there is a
briefness of the parts sometimes that makes the
whole long; as, I came to the stairs, I took a
pair of oars, they launched out, rowed apace, I
landed at the court gate, I paid my fare, went
up to the presence, asked for my lord, I was ad-
mitted. All this is but, I went to the court, and
spake with my lord. This is the fault of some
Latin writers, within these last hundred years,
of my reading; and perhaps Seneca may be ap-
peacherl of it ; I accuse him not.

2. Perspicuitas.^-Tlie nextproperty of epistolary
style is perspicuity, and is oftentimes by affec-
tation of some wit ill angled for, or ostentation
of some hidden terms of art. Few words they
darken speech, and so do too many ; as well too

DISCOVERIES. 231

much light hurteth the eyes, as too little; and
a long hill of chancery confounds the under-
standing, as much as the shortest note ; therefore
let not your letters be penn'd like English sta-
tutes, and this is obtained. These vices are es-
chewed by pondering your business well and
distinctly concerning yourself, which is much
furthered by uttering your thoughts, and letting
them as well come forth to the light and judg-
ment of your own outward senses, as to the cen-
sure of other men's ears ; for that is the reason
why many good scholars speak but fumblingly;
like a rich man, that for want of particular note
and difference, can bring you no certain ware
readily out of his shop. Hence it is, that talka-
tive shallow men do often content the hearers
more than the wise. But this may find a speedier
redress in writing, where all comes under the
last examination of the eyes. First mind it well,
then pen it, then examine it, then amend it, and
you may be in the better hope of doing reason-
ably well. Under this virtue may come plainness,
which is not to be curious in the order as to
answer a letter, as if you were to answer to in*
terrogatories. As to the first, first ; and to the
second, secondly, &c. but both in method to use
(as ladies do in their attire) a diligent kind of
negligence, and their sportive freedom ; though
with some men you are not to jest, or practise
tricks ; yet the delivery of the most important
things may be carried with such a grace, as that
it may yield a pleasure to the conceit of the
reader. There must be store, though no excess
of terms ; as if you are to name store, some-
times you may call it choice, sometimes plenty,
sometimes copiousness, or variety; but ever
so, that the word which conies in lieu, have

232 DISCOVERIES.

not such difference of meaning, as that it may
put the sense of the first in hazard to be mista-
ken. You are not to cast a ring for the perfumed
terms of the time, as accommodation, comple-
ment, spirit, &c. but use them properly in their
place, as others.

3. Vigor. — There followeth life and quickness,
which is the strength and sinews, as it were, of
your penning by pretty sayings, similitudes, and
conceits ; allusions from known history, or other
common place, such as are in the Courtier, and
the second book of Cicero de oratorc.

4. Discretio. — The last is, respect to discern
what fits yourself, him to whom you write, and
that which you handle, which is a quality fit to
conclude the rest, because it doth include all.
And that must proceed from ripeness of judg-
ment, which, as one truly saith, is gotten by
four means, God, nature, diligence and conver-
sation. Serve the first well, and the rest will
serve you.

De Poetica. — We have spoken sufficiently of
oratory, let us now make a diversion to poetry.
Poetry, in the primogeniture, had many peccant
humours, and is made to have more now, through
the levity and inconstancy of men's judgments.
Whereas indeed it is the most prevailing elo-
quence, and of the most exalted caract. Now
the discredits and disgraces are many it hath
received, through men's study of depravation or
calumny ; their practice being to give it dim!-
nution of credit, by lessening the professors' es-
timation, and making the age afraid of their
liberty: and the age is grown so tender of her
fame, as she calls all writings aspersions.

That is the state word, the phrase of court

DISCOVERIES. 233

(Placentia college^) which some call Parasites
place, the Inn of Ignorance,

D. Hieronymus. —Whilst I name no persons,
but deride follies, why should any man confess
or betray himself? why doth not that of S. Hie-
rome come into their mind, Ubi generalis est de
mtiis disputatio, ibi nullhis esse persona injurlam f
Is it such an inexpiable crime in poets, to tax
vices generally, and no offence in them, who,
by their exception, confess they have committed
them particularly? Are we fallen into those times
that we must not

Auriculas teyeras mordaci rodere vero

Remedii votum semper verius erat, quhm spes*
— Sexus fcemin. — If men may by no means write
freely, or speak truth, but when itoffends not; why
do physicians cure with sharp medicines, or cor-
rosives? is not the same equally lawful in the cure
of the mind, that is in the cure'of the body? Some
vices, you will say, are so foul, that it is better they
should be done than spoken. But they that take
offence where no name, character, or signature
doth blazon them, seem to me like affected as
women, who if they hear any thing ill spoken of
the ill of their sex, are presently moved, as if the
contumely respected their particular : and on the
contrary, when they hear good of good women,
conclude, that it belongs to them all. If I see
any thing that toucheth me, shall I come forth
a betrayer of myself presently ? No, if I be wise,
I'll dissemble it ; if honest, I'll avoid it, lest I
publish that on my own forehead which I saw
•

* Per. Sat. 1. h Livius.

2S4 DISCOVERIES.

there noted without a title. A man that is on the
mending hand will either ingenuously confess
or wisely dissemble his disease. And the wise
and virtuous will never think any thing belongs
to themselves that is written, but rejoice that
the good are warned not to be such ; and the
ill to leave to be such. The person offended
hath no reason to be offended with the writer,
but wi'h himself; and so to declare that pro-
perly to belong to him, which was so spoken of
all men, as it could be no man's several, but his
that would wilfully and desperately claim it.
It sufficeth I know what kind of persons I dis-
please, men bred in the declining and decay of
virtue, betrothed to their own vices ; that have
abandoned or prostituted their good names ;
hungry and ambitious of infamy, invested in all
deformity, enthralled to ignorance and malice,
of a hidden and concealed malignity, and that
hold a concomitancy with all evil.

What is a Poet *

Poeta. — A poet is that which by the Greeks is
called xar' tfyxpv, o Hom-ruf, a maker, or a feigner :
his art, an art of imitation or feigning ; express-
ing the life of man in fit measure, numbers, and
harmony, according to Aristotle: from the word
ormiy, which signifies to make, or feign. Hence
he is called a poet, not he which writeth in mea-
sure only, but that feignethand formeth a fable,
and writes things like the truth. For the fable-
and fiction is, as it were, the form and soul of
any poetical work, or poem.

What mean you by a Poem ?

DISCOVERIES. 235

Poema. — A poem is not alone any work, or
composition of the poet's in many or few verses;
but even one alone verse sometimes makes a
perfect poem. As when ./Eneas hangs up and con-
secrates the arms of Abas with this inscription :

JEneas h&c de Danais victoribus armaj

And calls it a poem, or carmen. Such are those
in Martial :

Omnia, Castor, emis : sic fat, ut omnia vendas*
And,

Pauper videri Cinna vult, et est pauper.

Horatius. — Lucretius. — So were Horace's odes
called Carmina, his lyric songs. And Lucretius
designs a whole book in his sixth :

Quod in primo quoque carmine claret.

Epicum. — Dramaticum. — Lyricum. — Elegiacum.
— Epigrammat. — And anciently all the oracles
were called Carmina; or whatever sentence was
expressed, were it much or little, it was called
an Epic, Dramatic, Lyric, Elegiac, or Epigram-
matic poem,

But how differs a Poem from what we call Poesy ?

Poesis — A rtium rcgina. — Poet, differ en tice. — >
Grammatic. — Logic. — Rhetoric. — Ethica. — A
poem, as I have told you, is the work of the
poet ; the end and fruit of his labour and study.

1 Virg. Mn. lib. 3. k Martial, lib. 8. epig. 19.

236 DISCOVERIES.

Poesy is his skill or craft of making; the very
fiction itself, the reason or form of the work.
And these three voices differ, as the thing done,
the tloing, and the doer; the thing feigned, the
feigning, and the feigner ; so the poem, the
poesy, and the poet. Now the poesy is the habit,
or the art ; nay, rather the queen of arts, which
had her original from heaven, received thence
from the Hebrews, and had in prime estimation
with the Greeks, transmitted to the Latins and
all nations that professed civility. The study of
it (if we will trust Aristotle) offers to mankind
a certain rule and pattern of living well and
happily, disposing us to all civil offices of society.
If we will believe Tully, it nourisheth and
instructeth our youth, delights our age, adorns
our prosperity, comforts our adversity, enter-
tains us at home, keeps us company abroad,
travels with us, watches, divides the times of
our earnest and sports, shares in our country
recesses and recreations; insomuch as the wisest
and best learned have thought her the absolute
mistress of manners, and nearest of kin to virtue.
And whereas they entitle philosophy to be a
rigid and austere poesy; they have, on the con-
trary, styled poesy a dulcet and gentle philo-
sophy, which leads on and guides us by the hand
to action> with a ravishing delight, and incre-
dible sweetness. But before we handle the kinds
of poems, with their special differences ; or make
court to the art itself, as a mistress, I would lead
you to the knowledge of our poet, by a perfect*
information what he is or should be by nature,
by exercise, by imitation, by study, and so bring
him down through the disciplines of grammar,
logic, rhetoric, and the ethics, adding somewhat

DISCOVERIES. 2Sr

out of all, peculiar to himself, and worthy of
your admittance or reception.

1. Ingenium. — Seneca. — Plato. — Aristotle. —
Helicon. — Pegasus. — Parnassus. — Ovid. — First,
we require in our poet or maker (for that title
our language affords him elegantly with the
Greek) a goodness of natural wit. For whereas
all other arts consist of doctrine and precepts,
the poet must be able by nature and instinct to
pour out the treasure of his mind; and as Se-
neca saith, Aliquando secundum Anacreontem in-
sanire jucundum esse ; by which he understands
the poetical rapture. And according to that of
Plato, Frustra poeticas fores sui compos pulsavit.
And of Aristotle, Nullum magnum ingenium sine
mivturd dement ice fuit* Nee potest grande aliquid,
et supra cceteros loqui, nisi mot a mens. Then it
riseth higher, as by a divine instinct, when it
contemns common and known conceptions. It
utters somewhat above a mortal mouth. Then it
gets aloft, and flies away with his rider, whither
before it was doubtful to ascend. This the poets
understood by their Helicon, Pegasus, or Par-
nassus ; and this made Ovid to boast:

Est deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo :
Sedibus cethereis spirit us itte venit.

Lipsius. — Petron in Fragm. — And Lipsius to
affi rm : Scio, poetam neminem pr&stantem fuisse,
sine parte quadam uberiore divina aura. And hence
it is that the coming up of good poets (for I
mind not mediocres or imos) is so thin and rare
among us. Every beggarly corporation affords
the state a mayor, or two bailiffs yearly ; but
Solus rex, aut poeta, non quotannis nascitur. To

238 DISCOVERIES.

this perfection of nature in our poet, we require
exercise of those parts, and frequent.

Q. E,rercifatio. — VirgiL — Scaliger. — Valer.
Maximus. — Euripides. — Alcestis. — If his wit will
not arrive suddenly at the dignity of the an-
cients, let him not yet fall out with it, quarrel
or be over-hastily angry ; offer to turn it away
from study in a humour ; but come to it again
upon better cogitation ; try another time with
labour. If then it succeed not, cast not away the
quills yet, nor scratch the wainscot, beat not the
poor desk; but bring all to the forge and file
again ; torn it anew. There is no statute law of
the kingdom bids you be a poet against your
will, or the first quarter ; if it come in a year or
two, it is well. The common rhymers pour forth
verses, such as they are, ex tempore ; but there
never comes from them one serise worth the life
of a day. A rhymer and a poet are two things.
It is said of the incomparable Virgil, that he
brought forth his verses like a bear, and after
formed them with licking. Scaliger the father
writes it of him, that he made a quantity of
verses in the morning, which afore night he re-
duced to a less number. But that which Valerius
Maximus hath left recorded of Euripides the
tragic poet, his answer to Alcestis, another poet,
is as memorable as modest: who, when it was
told to Alcestis, that Euripides had in three days
brought forth but three verses, and those with
some difficulty and throes ; Alcestis, glorying
he could with ease have sent forth an hundred *
in the space ; Euripides roundly replied, Like
enough ; but here is the difference, thy verses
will not last these three days, mine will to all
time. Which was as much as to tell him, he
could not write a verse. I have met many of

DISCOVERIES. 239

these rattles, that made a noise, and buzzed.
They had their hum, and no more. Indeed,
things wrote with labour deserve to be so read,
and will last their age.

3. Imitatio. — Horatius. — Virgil. — Stalius. —
Homer. — Horat. — Archil. — Alcaus, fyc. — The
third requisite in our poet, or maker, is imita-
tion, to be able to convert the substance or
riches of another poet to his own use. To make
choice of one excellent man above the rest, and
so to follow him till he grow very he, or so like
him, as the copy may be mistaken for the prin-
cipal. Not as a creature that swallows what it
takes in crude, raw, or undigested ; but that
feeds with an appetite, and hath a stomach to
concoct, divide, and turn all into nourishment.
Not to imitate servilely, as Horace saith, and
catch at vices for virtue; but to draw forth out
of the best and choicest flowers, with the bee,
and turn all into honey, work it into one relish
and savour: make our imitation sweet ; observe
how the best writers have imitated, and follow
them. How Virgil and Statius have imitated
Homer; how Horace, Archilochus; howAlcaeus,
and the other lyrics ; and so of the rest.

4. Lectio. — Parnassus. — Helicon. — Ars coron. —
M. T. Cicero. — Simylus. — Stob. — Horat. — Aris-
tot. — But that which we especially require in
him, is an exactness of study, and multiplicity
of reading, which maketh a full man, not alone
enabling him to know the history or argument
of a poem, and to report it ; but so to master the
matter and style, as to shew he knows how to
handle, place, or dispose of either with elegancy,
when need shall be. And not think he can leap
forth suddenly a poet, by dreaming he hath been
in Parnassus, or having washed his lips, as they

240 DISCOVERIES.

say, in Helicon. There goes more to his making
than so : for to nature, exercise, imitation, and
study, art must be added, to make all these per-
fect. And though these challenge to themselves
much, in the making up of our maker, it is art
only can lead him to perfection, and leave him
there in possession, as planted by her hand. It
is the assertion of Tully, if to an excellent na-
ture, there happen an accession or conformation
of learning and discipline, there will then remain
somewhat noble and singular. For, as Simylus
saith in Stobasus, CHm <pu<n? motv-n ywiTKi T£%W arff?
cure voiv rtyv* P1 0u<ni; *£*TtijU£v»j' without art, nature
can never be perfect ; and without nature, art
can claim no being. But our poet must beware,
that his study be not only to learn of himself;
for he that shall aifect to do that, confesseth his
ever having a fool to his master. He must read
many, but ever the best and choicest: those
that can teach him any thing, he must ever ac-
count his masters, and reverence : among whom
Horace, and (he that taught him) Aristotle, de-
served to be the first in estimation. Aristotle
was the first accurate critic, and truest judge ;
nay, the greatest philosopher the world ever
had : for he noted the vices of all-knowledges,
in all creatures ; and out of many men's perfec-
tions in a science, he formed still one art. So
he taught us two offices together, how we ought
to judge rightly of others, and what we ought to
imitate specially in ourselves. But all this in
vain, without a natural wit, and a poetical nature
in chief. For no man, so soon as he knows this,
or reads it, shall be able to write the better;
but as he is adapted to it by nature, he shall
grow the perfecter writer. He must have civil
prudence and eloquence, and that whole ; not

DISCOVERIES. 341

taken up by snatches or pieces, in sentences or
remnants, when he will handle business, or carry
counsels, as if he came then out of the de-
claim er's gallery, or shadow furnished but out of
the body of the state, which commonly is the
school of men.

Virorum schola respub. — Lysippus. — Apelles. —
Ncevius. — The poet is the nearest borderer upon
the orator, and expresseth all his virtues, though
he be tied more to numbers, is his equal in or-
nament, and above him in his strengths. And
(of the kind) the comic comes nearest ; because
in moving the minds of men, and stirring of af-
fections (in which oratory shews, and especially
approves her eminence) he chiefly excels. What
figure of a body was Lysippus ever able to form
with his graver, or Apelles to paint with his
pencil, as the comedy to life expresseth so many
and various affections of the mind ? There shall
the spectator see some insulting with joy, others
fretting with melancholy, raging with anger,
mad with love, boiling with avarice, undone
with riot, tortured with expectation, consumed
with fear: no perturbation in common life but
the orator finds an example of it in the scene.
And then for the elegancy of language, read but
this inscription on the grave of a comic poet :

Immortales mortales si fas essetflere,
Fltrent diva Cavwente Ncevium Poetam ;
Itaque postquam est Orcino traditus thesauro,
Ob lit i sunt Roma lingua loqui Latino, .

L> JElius Stilo.—Plautus. — M. Varro.—Qi that
modester testimony given by Lucius ^Elius Stilo
upon Plautus, who affirmed, Musas, si latinl loqui
voluissent, Plautino sermone fuisse loquuturas.

VOL. IX. R

242 DISCOVERIES.

And that illustrious judgment by the most
learned M. Varro of him, who pronounced him
the prince of letters and elegancy in the Roman
language.

Sophocles. — I am not of that opinion to conclude
a poet's liberty within the narrow limits of laws,
which either the grammarians or philosophers
prescribe. For before they found out those laws,
there were many excellent poets that fulfilled
them : amongst whom none more perfect than
Sophocles, who lived a little before Aristotle.

Demosthenes, — Pericles, — Alcibiades. — Which
of the Greeklings durst ever give precepts to
Demosthenes ? or to Pericles (whom the age sur-
named heavenly) because he seemed to thunder
and lighten with his language? or to Alci-
biades, who had rather nature for his guide, than
art for his master?

Aristotle. — But whatsoever nature at any time
dictated to the most happy, or long exercise to
the most laborious, that the wisdom and learning
of Aristotle hath brought into an art ; because he
understood the causes of things : and what other
men did by chance or custom, he doth by reason ;
and not only found out the way not to err, but
the short way we should take not to err.

Euripides. — Aristophanes. — Many things in Eu-
ripides hath Aristophanes wittily reprehended,
not out of art, but out of truth. For Euripides
is sometimes peccant, as he is most times perfect.
But judgment when it is greatest, if reason doth
not accompany it, is not ever absolute,

DISCOVERIES. 243

Cens. Seal, in Lil. Germ. — Horace. — To judge
of poets is only the faculty of poets ; and not
of all poets, but the best. Nemo infdicius depoetis
judiccwit, quam qui de poetis scripsit* But some will
say critics are a kind of tinkers, that make more
faults than they mend ordinarily. See their dis-
eases and those of grammarians. It is true, many
bodies are the worse for the meddling with ;
and the multitude of physicians hath destroyed
many sound patients with their wrong practice.
But the office of a true critic or censor is, not to
throw by a letter any where, or damn an inno-
cent syllabe, but lay the words together, and
amend them ; judge sincerely of the author, and
his matter, which is the sign of solid and perfect
learning in a man. Such was Horace, an author
of much civility; and (if any one among the
heathen can be) the best master both of virtue
and wisdom ; an excellent and true judge upon
cause and reason ; not because he thought so,
but because he knew so, out of use and experience.

Cato the grammarian, a defender of Lucilius."

Cato grammaticus, Latina syren,
Qui solus legit, etfacit poetas.

Quintilian of the same heresy, but rejected.0

Horace his judgment of Choerillus defended
against Joseph ScaligerJ* And of Laberius against
Julius. q

But chiefly his opinion of Plautus1" vindicated
against many that are offended, and say, it is a
hard censure upon the parent of all conceit and
sharpness. And they wish it had not fallen from

10 Senec. de brev. vit. cap. 13. et epist. 88.

n Heins. de Sat. 265. ° Pag 267. P Pag. 270, 271.

* Pag. 273, et seq. r Pag. in comm. 153, et seq.

R2

244 DISCOVERIES.

so great a master and censor in the art ; whose
bondmen knew better how to judge of Plautus,
than any that dare patronize the family of learn-
ing in this age, who could not be ignorant of
the judgment of the times in which he lived,
when poetry and the Latin language were at the
height; especially being a man so conversant
and inwardly familiar with the censures of great
men, that did discourse of these things daily
amongst themselves. Again, a man so gracious,
and in high favour with the emperor, as Augus-
tus often called him his witty manling ; (for the
littleness of his stature;) and, if we may trust
antiquity, had designed him for a secretary of
estate, and invited him to the place, which he
modestly prayed off, and refused.

Terence, — Menander. — Horace did so highly
esteem Terence's comedies, as he ascribes the
art in comedy to him alone among the Latins,
and joins him with Menander.

Now let us see what may be said for either,
to defend Horace's judgment to posterity, and
not wholly to condemn Plautus.

The parts of a comedy and tragedy. —The parts
of a comedy are the same with a tragedy, and
the end is partly the same ; for they both delight
and teach : the comics are called <U*<rxaAo* of the
Greeks, no less than the tragics.

Aristotle. — Plato. — Homer.. — Nor is the moving
of laughter always the end of comedy, that is
rather a fowling for the people's delight, or their
fooling. For as Aristotle says rightly, the mov-
ing of laughter is a fault in comedy, a kind of
turpitude, that depraves some part of a man's

DISCOVERIES. 245

nature without a disease. As a wry face without
pain moves laughter, or a deformed vizard, or a
rude clown dressed in a lady's habit, and using
her actions ; we dislike, and scorn such repre-
sentations, which made the ancient philosophers
ever think laughter unfitting in a wise man.
And this induced Plato to esteem of Homer as a
sacrilegious person, because he presented the
gods sometimes laughing. As also it is divinely
said of Aristotle, that to seem ridiculous is a
part of dishonesty, and foolish.

The wit of the old comedy. — So that what either
in the words or sense of an author, or in the
language or actions of men, is awry, or depraved,
does strangely stir mean affections, and provoke
for the most part to laughter. And therefore it
was clear, that all insolent and obscene speeches,
jests upon the best men, injuries to particular
persons, perverse and sinister sayings (and the
rather unexpected) in the old comedy did move
laughter, especially where it did imitate any
dishonesty, and scurrility came forth in the place
of wit ; which, who understands the nature and
genius of laughter, cannot but perfectly know.

Aristophanes. — Plautus. — Of which Aristo-
phanes affords an ample harvest, having not only
outgone Plautus, or any other in that kind ; but
expressed all the moods and figures of what is
ridiculous, oddly. In short, as vinegar is not ac-
counted good until the wine be corrupted ; so
jests that are true and natural seldom raise laugh-
ter with the beast the multitude. They love
nothing that is right and proper. The farther it
runs from reason, or possibility with them, the
better it is.

DISCOVERIES.

Socrates. — Theatrical wit. — What could have
made them laugh, like to see Socrates presented,
that example of all good life, honesty, and virtue,
to have him hoisted up with a pully, and there
play the philosopher in a basket ; measure how
many foot a flea could skip geometrically, by a
just scale, and edify the people from the engine.
This was theatrical wit, right stage jesting, and
relishing a play-house, invented for scorn and
laughter ; whereas, if it had savoured of equity,
truth, perspicuity, and candour, to have tasten
a wise, or a learned palate, — spit it out presently !
this is bitter and profitable; this instructs and
would inform us : what need we know any thing
that are nobly born, more than a horse-race, or
a hunting-match, our day to break with citizens,
and such innate mysteries?

The cart. — This is truly leaping from the stage
to the tumbril again, reducing all wit to the
original dung-cart.

Of the magnitude and compass of any fable, epic or
dramatic.

What the measure of a fable is. — The fable or
plot of a poem defined. — The epic fable, differing
from the dramatic. — To the resolving of this ques-
tion, we must first agree in the definition of the
fable. The fable is called the imitation of one
entire and perfect action, whose parts are so
joined and knit together, as nothing in trie
structure can be changed, or taken away, without
impairing or troubling the whole, of which there
is a proportionable magnitude in the members.
As for example : if a man would build a house,
he would first appoint a place to build it in, which

DISCOVERIES. 247

he would define within certain bounds : so in
the constitution of a poem, the action is aimed
at by the poet, which answers place in a building,
and that action hath his largeness, compass and
proportion. But as a court or king's palace re-
quires other dimensions than a private house ;
so the epic asks a magnitude from other poems :
since what is place in the one, is action in the
other, the difference is in space. So that by this
definition we conclude the fable to be the imi-
tation of one perfect and entire action, as one
perfect and entire place is required to a building.
By perfect, we understand that to which nothing
is wanting ; as place to the building that is
raised, and action to the fable that is formed. It
is perfect perhaps not for a court, or king's pa-
lace, which requires a greater ground, but for
the structure he would raise ; so the space of
the action may not prove large enough for the
epic fable, yet be perfect for the dramatic, and
whole.

What we understand by whole. — Whole we call
that, and perfect, which hath a beginning, a
midst, and an end. So the place of any building
may be whole and entire for that work, though
too little for a palace. As to a tragedy or a co-
medy, the action may be convenient and perfect,
that would not fit an epic poem in magnitude.
So a lion is a perfect creature in himself, though
it be less than that of a buffalo, or a rhinocerote.
They differ but in specie: either in the kind is
absolute ; both have their parts, and either the
whole. Therefore, as in every body, so in every
action, which is the subject of a just work, there
is required a certain proportionable greatness,
neither too vast, nor too minute. For that which

248 DISCOVERIES.

happens to the eyes when we behold a body, the
same happens to the memory, when we contem-
plate an action. I look upon a monstrous giant,
as Tityus, whose body covered nine acres of
land, and mine eye sticks upon every part : the
whole that consists of those parts will never be
taken in at one entire view. So in a fable, if the
action be too great, we can never comprehend
the whole together in our imagination. Again,
if it be too little, there ariseth no pleasure out of
the object; it affords the view no stay; it is
beheld, and vanisheth at once. As if we should
look upon an ant or pismire, the parts fly the
sight, and the whole considered is almost no-
thing. The same happens in action, which is the
object of memory, as the body is of sight. Too
vast oppresseth the eyes, and exceeds the me-
mory ; too little, scarce admits either.

What is the utmost bounds of a fable. — Now in
every action it behoves the poet to know which
is his utmost bound, how far with fitness and
a necessary proportion he may produce and de-
termine it; that is, till either good fortune
change into the worse, or the worse into the
better. For as a body without proportion cannot
be goodly, no more can the action, either in
comedy or tragedy, without his fit bounds : and
every bound, for the nature of the subject, is
esteemed the best that is largest, till it can in-
crease no more : so it behoves the action in.
tragedy or comedy to be let grow, till the ne-
cessity ask a conclusion; wherein two things
are to be considered ; first, that it exceed not
the compass of one day ; next, that there be
place left for digression and art. For the episodes
and digressions in a fable are the same that

DISCOVERIES. 249

household stuff and other furniture are in a house.
And so far from the measure and extent of a fable
dramatic.

What by one and entire. — Now that it should
be one, and entire. One is" considerable two
ways ; either as it is only separate, and by itself,
or as being composed of many parts, it begins
to be one, as those parts grow, or are wrought
together. That it should be one the first way
alone, and by itself, no man that hath tasted
letters ever would say, especially having required
before a just magnitude, and equal proportion
of the parts in themselves. Neither of which can
possibly be, if the action be single and separate,
not composed of parts, which laid together in
themselves, with an equal and fitting proportion,
tend to the same end ; which thing out of anti-
quity itself hath deceived many, and more this
day it doth deceive,

Hercules. — Theseus. — Achilles. — Ulysses, — Ho-
mer and Virgil. — JEneas. — -Venus. — So many there
be of old, that have thought the action of one
man to be one ; as of Hercules, Theseus, Achil-
les, Ulysses, and other heroes; which is both
foolish and false, since by one and the same
person many things may be severally done, which
cannot fitly be referred or joined to the same
end : which not only the excellent tragic poets,
but the best masters of the epic, Homer and
Virgil saw. For though the argument of an epic
poem be far more diffused, and poured out than
that of tragedy; yet Virgil writing of JEneas,
hath pretermitted many things. He neither tells
how he was born, how brought up, how he fought
with Achilles, how he was snatched out of the

250 DISCOVERIES.

battle by Venus ; but that one thing, how he
came into Italy, he prosecutes in twelve books.
The rest of his journey, his error by sea, the
sack of Tiny, are put not as the argument of the
work, but episodes of the argument. So Homer
laid b\ many things oi Ulysses, and handled no
more than he saw tended to one and the same
end.

Theseus. — Hercules. — Juvenal. — Codrus. — So-
phoc'e* — Ajax* — Ulysses — Contrary to which,
an<i fn»r,shly, those poets did, whom the philo-
so|>* er taxeth, of whom one gathered all the
actions of Theseus, another put all the labours of
Hercules in one work. So did he whom Juvenal
mentions in the beginning, " hoarse Codrus,*'
that recited a volume compiled, which he called
his Theseide, not yet finished, to the great
trouble both of his hearers and himself; amongst
which there were many parts had no coherence
nor kindred one with another, so far they were
from being one action, one fable. For as a house,
consisting of divers materials, becomes one
structure, and one dwelling ; so an action, com-
posed of divers parts, may become one fable,
epic or dramatic For example, in a tragedy,
look upon Sophocles his Ajax : Ajax, deprived
of Achilles' armour, which he hoped from the
suffrage of the Greeks, disdains; and growing
impatient of the injury, rageth, and runs mad.
In that humour he doth many senseless things,
and at last falls upon the Grecian flock, and kills
a great ram for Ulysses : returning to his senses,
he grows ashamed of the scorn, and kills himself ;
and is by the chiefs of the Greeks forbidden
burial. These things agree and hang together
not as they were done, but as seeming to be

DISCOVERIES. 251

done, which made the action whole, entire, and
absolute.

The conclusion concerning the whole, and the parts.
— Which are episodes — Ajax and Hector. — Homer.
— For the whole, as it consisteth of parts ; so
without all the parts it is not the whole; and to
make it absolute, is, required not only the parts,
but such parts as are true. For a part of the
whole was true ; which if you take away, you
either change the whole, or it is not the whole.
For if it be such a part, as being present or ab-
sent, nothing concerns the whole, it cannot be
called a part of the whole : and such are the
episodes, of which hereafter For the present
here is one example ; the single combat of Ajax
with Hector, as it is at large described in Homer,
nothing belongs to this Ajax of Sophocles.

You admire no poems, but such as run like a
brewer's cart upon the stones, hobbling :

Et9 quas per salt bras, altaque sajca cadunt.
Accius et quidquid Pacwciusque vomunt.
Attonitusque legis terrdi,frugiferdiS

' Martial, lib. 11. epig, 91

THE

ENGLISH GRAMMAR,

MADE BY

BEN JONSON,

FOR THE

BENEFIT OF ALL STRANGERS,

OUT OF HIS OBSERVATION OF THE ENGLISH
LANGUAGE, NOW SPOKEN AND IN USE.

Consuetudo, certissima loquendi magistra, uten-
dumque plank sermone, ut nummo, cid publica forma
est. Quinctil.

Non obstant hce discipline per illas euntibus sed
circa illas hxrentibus. Quinctil.

Major adhuc restat labor, sed sane sit cum venid,
si gratia carebit : boni enim artificis partes sunt,
quam paucissimapossit omittere. Scalig. lib. 1. c. 25.

Neque enim optimi artificis esty omnia persequi.

Gallenus.

Expedire grammatico, etiam, si quadam nesciat.

Quinctil.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.] The Grammar which Jonson had
prepared for the press was destroyed in the conflagration of his
study. What we have here therefore, are rather the materials
for a grammar than a perfect work.

Jonson had formed an extensive collection of Grammars,
which appears to have been both curious and valuable. Howell
writes to him in 1629 that, u according to his desire, he had,
with some difficulty, procured Dr. Davies's Welsh Grammar,
to add to those many which he already had." Letters, Sec. v.
26 ; and sir Francis Kynaston, in speaking of the old infi-
nitives tellen, &c., says — " Such words ought rather to be
esteemed as elegancies, since it appears by a most ancient Gram-
mar written in the Saxon tongue and character, which I once
saw in the hands of my most learned and celebrated friend,
master Ben Jonson, that the English tongue in Chaucer's time,''
&c. Much more might be produced to the same effect ; but
enough is given to shew (what indeed, was already sufficiently
apparent) that our author never trifled with the public, nor
attempted to handle any subject, of which he had not made
himself a complete and absolute master.

The Grammar was first printed in the fol. 1640, three years
after the author's death. The title was drawn up by the editors
of that volume.

THE

PREFACE.

THE profit of Grammar is great to strangers, who
are to live in communion and commerce with us,
and it is honourable to ourselves : for by it we
communicate all our labours, studies, profits,
without an interpreter.

We free our language from the opinion of
rudeness and barbarism, wherewith it is mistaken
to be diseased : we shew the copy of it, and
matcbableness with other tongues ; we ripen the
wits of our own children and youth sooner by it,
and advance their knowledge.

Confusion of language, a curse.
Experience breedeth art : lack of experience,
chance.

Experience, observation, sense, induction, are
the four triers of arts. It is ridiculous to teach
any thing for undoubted truth, that sense and
experience can confute. So Zeno disputing of
Quies, was confuted by Diogenes, rising up and
walking.

In grammar, not so much the invention, as the
disposition is to be co amended : yet we must
remember, that the most excellent creatures are
not ever born perfect; to leave bears, and whelps,
and other failings of nature.

256 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

* Jul. Caesar Scaliger. de caus. Ling. Lat.
Grammatici unusjinis est recte loqui. Neque ne-

cesse habet scribere. Accidit eriim scriptura voci,
neque aliter scribere debemus, quam loquamur.

Ramus in dejinit. pag. SO.

Grammatica est ars bent loquendi.

k Veteres, ut Varro, Cicero, Quinctilianus,
Etymologiam in notatione vocum statuere.

* Dictionis natura prior est, posterior orationis.
Ex usu veterum Latinorum, Vox, pro dictione scrip -
ta accipitur : quoniam vox esse possit. Est articu-
lata, quce scripto excipi, atque exprimi valeat : inar-
ticulata, quce non. Articulata vox dicitur, qua genus
humanum utitur distinctlm, a cceteris ammalibus,
quce muta vocantur : non, qudd sonum non edant ;
sed quia soni eorum nullis exprimantur proprie lite-
rarum notis.

Smithus de recta, et emend. L. Latin, script.

d Syllaba est elementum sub accentu. Scalig. lib. 2.

' Lit era est pars dictionis indi visibilis. Namquam-
quam sunt liter CE qucedam duplices, una tamen tantiim
litera est, sibi quceque sonum unum certum servans.
Scalig,

Et Smithus, ibid. Litera pars minima vocis arti-
culatte.

* Natura literce tribus modis intdligitur; nomine,
quo pronundatur ; potestate, qua valet; figura,
qua scribitur. At potettas est sonus Hie, quo pronun*
dan, quern etiamfgura debet imitari ; ut his Prc-
sodiam Orthographia sequatur. Asper.

* Prosodia autem, et Orthographia paries non
sunt ; sedy ut sanguis, et spiritus per corpus univer-
sumfusa. Seal, ut supra. Ramus, pag. 31.

THE

ENGLISH GRAMMAR

CHAP. I.
OF GRAMMAR, AND THE PARTS.

a GRAMMAR is the art of true and well-speaking
a language : the writing is but an accident.

The parts of Grammar are

Etymology*! ,. i . C the truenotationof words.
Syntax, | ^therightorderingofthem.

c A word is a part of speech, or note, whereby
a thing is known, or called ; and consisteth of
one or more syllabes.

d A syllabe is a perfect sound in a word, and
consisteth of one or more letters.

e A letter is an indivisible part of a syllabe,
whose prosody,* or right sounding is perceived by
the power; the orthography, or right writing, by
the form.

g Prosody, and orthography, are not parts of
grammar, but diffused like the blood and spirits
through the whole.

VOL. ix. S

258 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

h Litera, a lineando ; undt, linere, lineatura, li-
ters, et liturce. Neque enim ft lituris literce quia
delerentur , prius enim fact &, quam delete sunt. At
forma potiiis, atque oiV*a$ rationem, quam interitusy
habeamux. Seal. ibid.

1 Litera genus quoddam est, cujus species prima-
ritf duce vocalis et consonans, quarum natura, et
comtitutio non potest pcrcipi, nisi prius cognoscantur
differentia formates, quibus factum est, ut inter se
non convenient Seal ibid.

k Litera differentia generica est potest as, quam
nimls rndi consilio veteres Accidens appelldrunt . Est
enim forma quadam ipseflexus in voce, quasi in ma-
teria, propter quern flevum Jit; ut vocalis per se
possit pronunciari : Muta non possit. Figura autem
est accidens ab arte institutum ; potestque attributa
mutari Jul. Cses. Seal, ibidem. De w, ac potes-
tate liter arum tarn accurate scrips&runt Antiqui9
quam de quavis alia SUCK professions part e. Elabo-
rarunt in hoc argumento Varro, Priscianus, Appion,
ille, qui cymbalum dicebatur mundi : et inter rhe-
tor es non postremi judicii, Dionysius Halicarnassceusy
Caius quoque Ccesar, et Octavius Augustus. Smith,
ibid,

1 Literce, qu& per seipsas possint pronunciari, vo-
cales sunt ; quce non, nisi cum aliis9 consonants.

Vocalium nomina simplici sono, nee different^ a
potestate, proferantur.

Consonances, additis vocalibus, quibusdam prcepo-
sitis, aliis postpositis

m Ex consonant ib us ^ quorum nomen incipit a Con-
sonant e, Mutce sunt ; quarum a vocali, semi-vocale$ :
Mutas non inde appellatasj qudd parum sonarent,
sed qudd nihil.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 259

CHAP. II.

OF LETTERS AND THEIR PowERs.k

IN our language we use these twenty and four
letters, A. B, C. D. E. F. G. H. I. K. L. M. N. O.
P. Q R. S. T. V. W. X. Y. Z. a. b. c. d. e. f. g.
h. i. k. L m. n. o. p. q. r. s. t. v. w. x. y. z. The
great letters serve to begin sentences, with us,
to lead proper names, and express numbers. The
less make the fabric of speech.

V
X

Our numeral letters are,

1
5
10

L >for«

O

D

M

50

100

500

1000

1 All letters are either vowels or consonants ;
and are principally known k by their powers. The
Jigure is an accident.

1 A vowel will be pronounced by itself: acow-
sonant not without the help of a vowel, either
before or after.

The received vowels in our tongue are,

a. e. i. o. u.

m Consonants be either mutes, and close the
sound, as b. c. d. g. k.p. q. t. Or half vowels, and
open it, asy. /. m. n. r. s. x. z.

H. is rarely other than an aspiration in power,
though a letter in form.

W. and Y. have shifting and uncertain
as shall be shewn in their places.

83

260 GRAMMATICA ANGLICAN A.

n Omnes Vocales ancipites sunt ; (i. e.) modd lon-
ga, modd breves :, eodem tamen modo semper depict ce,
(nam scriptura est imitatio sermonis, ut pictura cor-
poris. Scriptio vocum pictura. Smith us J et eodem
sono pronunciatcB. Nisi qudd vocalis longa bis tan-
turn temppris in effando retinet, quam brevis. Ut
rectb cecinit ille de vocalibus.

Temporis unius brevis esty ut longa duorum.

A

0 Litera hujus sonus est omnium gentium fire
communis. Nomen autem, etjigura multis nationibus
est diversa. Scalig. et Ramus.

Dionysius ait a esse, ZVQUVOTOITOV, ex plenitudine
vocis.

p Teren. Maurusi

A, prima locum littera sic ab ore, sumit,
Immunia, rictu patulo. temre labra :
Linguamque ntctsse est ita pandultim reduci,
Ut nisus in illam valeat subire -cods,
Nee partibus ullis aliquos ferire denies.

E

Triplicem differentiam habct : primam, mediocfis
rictus : secundam, Ungnce, eamque duplicem ; al-
ter am> interior is, nempe itrflexce ad inter ius calum

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 261

CHAP. III.
OF THE VOWELS.

B All our vowds are sounded doubtfully. In
quantity, (which is time) long or short. Or, in
accent, (which is tune) sharp or flat. Long in
these words, and their like :

Debating, congeling, expiring, opposing, enduring*

Shortinthese: Stomaching, severing, vanquish-
ing, ranstiming, picturing..

Sharp in these : hdte, mete, bite, ndte, pule.

Flat in these : hat, met, bit, ndt, pull.

A

• With us, in most words, is pronounced less than
the French a ; as in

art, act, apple, ancient.

But when it comes before /, in the end of a
syllabe, it obtaineth the full French sound, p and
is uttered with the mouth and throat wide
opened, the tongue bent back from the teeth,
as in

all, small, gall, fall, tall, call.
So in the syliabes where a consonant followeth
the /, as in

salt, malt, balm, calm.

E

Is pronounced with a mean opening the mouth,
the tongue turned to the inner roof of the palate,
and softly striking the upper great teeth. It is a
letter of divers note and use ; and either sound-
eth, or is silent. When it is the last letter, and
soundeth, the sound is sharp, as in the French i.

262 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

palati ; alterant genuinos prementis. Tertia est labri
inferiori^

Ramus, lib. 2.

Duas primas Terentianus notavit ;
tertiam tacuit.

Terentianus 1.

E, quce sequitur, vocula dissona est priori: quia
deprimit altum modico tenore rictum, et remotos
premit hinc, et hinc molares.

T Apud latinos, e latius sonat in adverbio benfc,
quam in adverbio here : hujus enim posterior em
vocalem cxilius pronunciabant ; ita, ut etiam in
maximk exihm sonum transient herl. Id, quod latitis
in multis quoque patet : ut ab Eo, verbo, deductum,*
ire, iis, et eis : diis, et dels . febrem, febrim :
turrem, turrim : priore, et priori : Ram. et Scalig.

Et propter hanc vicinitatem (ait Quinct.) e quoque
loco i Juit : ut Menerva, leber, magester : pro
Minerva, liber, magister.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 263

Example in me, set, agree, ye, she ; in all, saving
the article tht.

Where it endeth, and soundeth obscure and
faintly, it serves as an accent to produce the
vowel preceding: as in made, stSme, stripe, 6re9
cure, which else would sound, mad, stem, strip,
dr, cur.

It altereth the power of c, g, s, so placed, as
in hence, which else would sound henc ; swinge,
to make it different from swing ; use, to distin-
guish it from us.

It is mere silent in words where / is coupled
with a consonant in the end ; as whistle, gristle,
brittle, jickle, thimble, &c.

Or after v consonant, as in

love, glove, move.

Where it endeth a former sylFabe, it soundeth
longish, but flat; as in

dlrwe, prepare, resolve.

Except in derivatives, or compounds of the sharp
e, and then it answers the primitive or simple in
the first sound ; as

agreeing, of agree; foreseeing, of foresee ; being,
of be.

Where it endeth a last syllabe, with one or
more consonants after it, it either soundeth flat
and full ; as in

descent, intent, amend, offend, rest, best.
Or it passeth away obscured, like the faint i; as
in these,

written, gotten, open, sayeth, Sec.

* Which two letters e and i have such a near-
ness in our tongue, as oftentimes they interchange
places ; as in

tnduce, for induce : endite, for indite.

GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

I

Porrigit ictum genuino prope ad ipsos
Minimumque renidet supero tenus labello.

Terent.

/ vocalis sonos habet tres : suum, exilem : alte-
rum, latiorem proprioremque ipsi e ; et tertium,
obscuriorem ipsius u, inter qute duo Y grazcce vocalis
sonus continetur : ut non inconsultd Viclorinus am-
biguam ilium quam adduximus vocem, per Y scrib en-
dam esse putarit, Optimus.

Scalig.
Ante consonantem I semper cst vocalis*

1 Ante vocalem ejusdem syllaba consonant

* Apud Hebrceos I perpetud est consonans ; ut
apud Grcecos vocalis.

w Ut in Giacente, Giesti, Gioconda, Giustitia.

x O pronunciatur rotundo ore9 lingua ad radices
hypoglossis reductA. o pixpov, et u ptya, unicd tan-
turn not A, sono different!.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 265

Is of a narrower sound than e, and uttered with
a less opening of the mouth, the tongue brought
back to the palate, and striking the teeth next
the cheek teeth.

It is a letter of a double power.

As a vowel in the former, or single syllabes,
it hath sometimes the sharp accent ; as in

binding, minding, pining, whining, wiving, thriv-
ing, mine., thine.

Or all words of one syllabe qualified by e.
But the flat in more, as in these, bill, blttt?**, giddy,
little, incident, and the like.

In the derivatives of sharp primitives, it keep-
eth the sound, though it deliver over the primi-
tive consonant to the next syllabe : as in
divi-ning, requi-ring, repi ning.

For, a consonant falling between two vowels iu
the word, will be spelled with the latter In syl-
labes and words, composed of the same elements,
it varieth the sound, now sharp, now flat : as in

give, give, alive, live, drive, driven, title, title.

But these, use of speaking, and acquaintance
in reading, will teach, rather than rule

* /, in the other power, is merely another let-
ter, and would ask to enjoy another character.
For where it leads the sounding vowel, and be-
ginneth the syllabe, it is ever a consonant ; as in

James, John, jest, jump, conjurer, perjured.
And before diphthongs ; as jay, joy, juice, having
the force of the Hebrew Jod* and the Italian

O

Is pronounced with a round mouth, the

and is a letter
us.

x Is pronounced with a round m
tongue drawn back to the root; and
of much change, and uncertainty with

GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

y Profertur, ut w.

* Ut oo, vel ou Gallicum.

Una quoniam sat habitum est notare forma,
Pro temporibus qua gremium ministret usum.
Igitur sonitum reddere voles minor i,
Jletrorsus adactam modice teneto linguam,
Rictu neque magno sat erit patere labra,
At longior alto tragicum sub or is antro
Molita, rotundis acuit sonum labellis. Terent.

Differ entiam o parvi valde distinct am Franci te-
nent : sed scripturA valde confundant. O, scribunt
ferinde ut proferunt. At « scribunt modd ptr au,
modd per ao, qua sonum talem minimi sonant, qui
simplici, et rotundo motu oris proferri debet.

a Quanta sit ajfinitas (o) cum (u) ex Quinct.
Plinio, Papyriano notum est. Quidenim o et u,per-
mutatce invicem, ut Hecobe, e^Notrix, Culchides,
et Pulixena, scriberentur ? sic nostri prceceptores,
Cervom, Servomque u et o litteris scripserunt ;
Sic ded^ront, probaveront, Romanis olim fuire>
Quinct. lib. 1.

Deinque o, teste Plinio apud Priscianum, aliquot
Italics cimtates non habebant ; sed loco ejus pone-
bant u, et maaime Umbri, et Tusci. Atque u contra,
teste apud eundem Papyriano, multis Italics populis
in usu non erat ; sed utebantur o ; unde Romanorum
quoque vctustissimi in multis dictionibus, loco ejus o
fosu&runt ; Ut poblicurn, pro publicum ; pol-
crum, pro pulcrum ; colpam, pro culpam.

Quam scribere Graius, nisijungat Y, nequibit
Hanc edere vocem quoties paramus ore,
Nitamur ut V dicer e, sic citetur ortus
Productius autem, coeuntibus labellis
Natura sonipressl altius meabit. Terentian.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 267

In the long time it naturally soundeth sharp,
and high ; as in

y chosen, hosen, holy, folly ;

open, over, note, throte.

In the short time more flat, and akin to u ; as
* cosen, dose/i, mother,
brother, love, prove.

In the diphthong sometimes the o is sounded ; as
6ught, sdught, nought,

wrdught, mow, sow.

But oftener upon the u ; as in sdund, bound,
how, now, thou, cow.

In the last syllabes, before n and w,
quently loseth its sound ; as in

person, action, willow, billow.
It holds up, and is sharp, when it ends the
word, or syllabe ; as in

go, fro, so, no.

Except into, the preposition; two, the numeral;
do, the verb, and the compounds of it ; as undo,
and the derivatives, as doing.

It varieth the sound in syllabes of the same
character, and proportion ; as in

shove ; glove, grove.

Which double sound it hath from the Latin; as
» Voltus, vultus, vultis, voltis.

V

b Is sounded with a narrower and mean com-
pass, and some depression of the middle of the
tongue, and is like our i, a letter of a double
power. As a vowel, it soundeth thin and sharp,
as in use ; thick and flat, as in us.

It never endeth any word for the nakedness,
but yieldeth to the termination of the diphthong
ew, as in new, knew, Sec. or the qualifying e9 as in
sue, due, true, and the like.

268 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

Et alibi.

Graca diphthongus », literis tamen nostris vacaty

Sola vocalis quod u complet hunc satis sonum.

Ut in titulis, fabulis Terentii prapositis. Grceca
Menandru : Gr&ca Apollodoru, pro Msya;/Jp», et
'AiroXXoSoov, et quidem, ne quis de potestate vocalis
hujus addubitare possit, etiam a mutis animalibus
testimonium Plautus nobis evhibuit e Peniculo Me-
nechmi .ME. Egon" dedi? Pe. tu, tu, inquam, vin'
afferri noctuam,

Qua tu, tu, usque dicat tibi : nam nos jam nos
dcfessi sumus.

Ergo ut ovium balatus yra, literce sonum : sic
noctuarum cant us, et cuculi apud Aristophanem so-
num hujus vocalis vindkabit. Nam, qnando u /£-
quescit, ut in quis, et sanguis, habet sonum commu-
nem cum Y gr&ca, % u-rroff o KOKKV% tiirot KOXKV.
Et quando Coccyx dixit Coccy.

e Co nsonansut uGallicum, velDigammaprofertur.

Hanc tt modo quam diximus J, simuljugatas,

Verum est spacium sumere, vimque consonatum.

Ut quczque tamen constiterit loco priore :

NamsijugSi quis nominet, J consonajiet. Terent.
Versa vice jit prior V, sequatur ilia, ut in vide.

d Ut It ali proferunt Edoardo in Edouardo, et
Galli, ou-y.

Suavis, suadeo, etiam Latinij ut sv-avis, £c. At
quid attinet duplicare, quod simplex queat sufficere ?
Proinde W pro copia Character urn non reprehendo,
pro nova lit era certe non agnosco. Veteresque Angk) -
Saxones pro ed, quando nos W solemus uti, Jiguram
istius modi p sole bant conscribere, qua non mult urn
differt ab ed, qua et hodie utimur fy simplici, dum
verbum inchoet.

Smithus de rect. et amend. L. A, Script,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 269

e When it followeth a sounding 'vowel in a syl-
labe it is a consonant ; as in save, rewe, prove, love,
Sec. Which double force is not the unsteadfast-
ness of our tongue, or incertainty of our writing,
but fallen upon us from the Latin.

W

d Is but the V geminated in the full sound,
and though it have the seat of a consonant with
us, the power is always vowe&sk, even where it
leads the vowel in any syllabe ; as, if you mark
it, pronounce the two uu, like the Greek *, quick
in passage, and these words,

x-ine, x-ant, x-ood, x-ast, sx-ing, sx-am ;
will sound, wine, want, wood, wast, swing, swam.

So put the aspiration afore, and these words,

hx-at, hx'ich, hx-eel, hx-ether /
Will be, what, which, wheel, whether.

In the diphthongs there will be no doubt, as in
draw, straw, sow, know.

Nor in derivatives, as knowing, sowing, drawing.

Where the double w is of necessity used, rather
than the single u, lest it might alter the sound,
and be pronounced knowing, sowing, drawing ;

As in sawing, hawing.

Y

Is also mere vowelish in our tongue, and hath
only the power of an i, even where it obtains the
seat of a consonant, as in young, younker.

Which the Dutch, whose primitive it is, write
lunk, Junker.

And so might we write

iouth, ies, ioke, ionder, iard, ielk ;
youth, yes, yoke, yonder, yard, yelk.

270 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

1 Siquidem eandem pro v, graco retinet : Certk
alium quam i, omni in loco redder e debebat sonum.

B

* Nobis cum Latinis communis. Smith.
Nam mutajubet comprimi labella,
Vocalis at intus locus exitum ministrat. Terent.
B, Labris per spiritus impetum reclusis edidmus.

Mart, capy
C

h Litera Androgyne, naturAnecmas, necfcemina,
et utrumque est neutrum. Monstrum litera, non
litera ; Ignorantice specimen, non artis. Smithus.

Quomodo nunc utimur vulgd, aut nullas, aut ni-
mias habet vires : Nam modd k sonat, modd s. "At
si litera sit a k et s diversa, suum debet habere so-
num. Sed nescio quod monstrum, aut Empusa sit,
quce modd mas, modd fcemina, modd serpens, modd
comix, appareat ; et per ejusmodi imposturas, pro
suo arbitrio, tarn s quam k wigat <zdibu$9 etfundis

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 271

But that we choosey, for distinction sake ; as
we usually difference to lye or feign, from to lie
along, 8$c.

In the diphthong it sounds always i; as in
may, say, way Joy, toy, they.

And in the ends of words ; as in
deny, reply, defy, cry.

Which sometimes are written by i, but quali-
fied by e.

But where two ii are sounded, the first will be
ever ay; as in derivatives :

denying, replying, defying.

f Only in the words received by us from the
Greek, as syllabe, tyran, and the like, it keeps
the sound of the thin and sharp u, in some pro-
portion. And this we had to say of the vowels.

CHAP. IV.

OF THE CONSONANTS.

B

s HATH the same sound with us as it hath with the
Latin, always one, and is uttered with closing
of the lips.

C

b Is a letter which our forefathers might very
well have spared in our tongue ; but since it
hath obtained place both in our writing and lan-
guage, we are not now to quarrel with orthogra-
phy or custom, but to note the powers.

Before a, u, and o, it plainly sounds k, chi, or
kappa ; as in

cable, cobble, cudgel.
Or before the liquids, I and r ; as in
clod, crust.

272 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

suis : Ut jure possint ha dua llterte contender e cum
c per edictum, unde vi : Neque dubito quin, ubisit
prator aquus facile c cadet causm

1 4 pud Latinos c eandem habuit formam, et cha-
racterem, quern Efyfta apud Graecos vcteres.

An hacfuit occasio, qudd ignorantia> confusioque
etmdem, apud imperil os, dederit sonum C, quern S,
nolo affirmare.

k Vctusta illius Anglo-Saxonicse linguce, et
scriptionis peritiores condendunt, apud illos atams
nostros Anglo-Saxones, C literam, maxime, ante e
et \ eum habuisse sonum, quern, et pro tenui rx
Chi, sono agnoscimus : et Itali, maxinie Hetrusci,
ante e et \ hodii usurpant. Idem ibidem.

1 C molar ib u s super lingua extrema appulsis ex-
primitur. Mart. Cap.

C pressius urget : sed et hinc, hincquc remitfit,
Quo vocis adh&rens sonus expticetur ore.

Terent.

D

D appulsu lingua circa denies superior es innascitur.

" At portio denies quotiens suprema lingua
Pulsaverit imos, modiceque curva summas,
Tune D sonitum perficit, explicatque vocem.

Terent.

F
n Litera a graca <p recedit lenis, et hebes sonus.

Idetn.

0 Vau consona, Varrone et Dydimo testibus, no-
minata est &*jigura a Claudio C&sarejacta etiam
est. Vis ejus, et potestas est eademy qua Digamma
Aeolici, ut ostendit Terentianus in v consona.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 273

Or when it ends a former syllabe before a conso-
nant; as in

ac-quaintance, acknowledgment , ac-tion.
In all which it sounds strong.

Before e and i it hath a weak sound, and his-
seth like s ; as in

certain, center, civil, citizen, whence.
Or before diphthongs, whose first vozvel is e or i;
as in

cease, deceive, ceiling.

k Among the English Saxons it obtained the
weaker force of chi, or the Italian c ; as in

capel, cane, cild, cyrce.
Which were pronounced

chapel, chance, child, church.
1 It is sounded with the top of the tongue,
striking the upper teeth, and rebounding against
the palate.

D

Hath the same sound, both before and after a
'vowel with us, as it hath with the Latins ; and is
pronounced softly," the tongue a little affecting
the teeth, but the nether teeth most.

F

Is a letter of two forces with us; and in them
both sounded with the nether lip rounded, and
a kind of blowing out; but gentler in the one
than the other.

The more general sound is the softest," and
expresseth the Greek <p ; as in

faith, Jield, Jight, force.
Where it sounds ef.

r The other is lu, or vau, the digamma of Clau-
dius ; as in

cleft, of cleave ; left, of leave,

VOL. ix. T

274 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

V, vade, veni, refer ; teneto vultum :
Crevisse sonum perspicis, et cdisse crassum,
Unde JEoliis litera jingitur Digammos.
j, quasi iv, contrarium F, qua sonat <p.

G

v Spiritus cum palato. Mart. Cap.

De sono quidem hujus liters satis const at : Sed
distinctions caussa Characterem illl dederunt aliqui
hum s, ut secernatur a G. Nam ut Grseci in se-
cunda conjugatione tres habent literas, K, y, %,
tetmern, mediam, densam ; Angli quatuor habent,
rat a j.roportione sibi respondentes, ka, ga, ce, S t.
Illce simplices, et apert& ; hce stridulce^ et compressee;
illce medice linguce officio sonantur ; ha summA lin-
gua ad interiores illisa, superiorum dentium gingwas
efflantur. Quodque est ka ad ga : Idem est ce ad 3-
Smith us ibid.

Voces tamen pler&que, quas Meridionales Angli
per hunc sonum T* 3 pronunciamus injine: Boreales
per G proferunt : ut in voce Pons, nos hris : Hit
brig. In rupturd} brec : illi brek. Maturamavem
ad volandum, nos fli^ : I Hi flig- Ibid.

Apud Latinos proximum ipsi C est G. Itaque
Cneum et Gneum, dicebant : Sic Curculionem, et
Gurculionem : Appulsd enim ad palatum lingua,
modicello rclicto intervallo, spiritu totapronunciatur.

Seal, de causs. L. L.
Et Terentianus,

Sic amurca, qua vetuste stfpe per c scribitur, ^

Esse per g proferendum crediderunt plurimi. "

Quando apowif Gr^eca vox est ; yupptx, origo

pr&ferat.
Apud Germanos semper profertur y,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 275

The difference will best be found in the word
of, which as a preposition sounds

oy oj, speaking of a person or thing.
As the adverb of distance,
off, far off.

G

9 Is likewise of double force in our tongue,
and is sounded with an impression made on the
midst of the palate.

Before a, o, and u, strong; as in these,

gate, got, gut.
Or before the aspirate h, or liquids land r; as in

ghost, glad, grant.
Or in the ends of the words ; as in

long, song, ring, swing, eg, leg, lug, dug.
Except the qualifying c follow, and then the
sound is ever weak ; as in

age, stage, hedge,
sledge, judge, drudge.
Before w, the force is double ; as in

guile, guide, guest, guise.
Where it soundeth like the French gu. And in

guerdon, languish) anguish.
Where it speaks the Italian gu.

Likewise before e and i, the powers are con-
fused, and uttered, now strong, now weak ; as in
get, geld, give, 7j
git tern, jinger> j

In

genet, gentle, gin, i .
gibe, ginger, ] M eak'

But this use must reach : the one sound being
warranted to our letter from the Greek, the otber
from the Latin throughout.
We will leave /fin this place, and come to

T2

276 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA,

K

q dim Kalendse Gracam habebant diductionem
et sonum, KowTrot, Gr&cam sunt mutuati lit^ ram Ro-
mani, ut eas exprimcrent. Et, credo tamen. fwerunt
ed forma, ut, ct C Romanum efformarent, gudd ha-
beret adjunctum, quasi retrd bacillum, ut robur ei
adder ent 1st a forma K : nam C Romanum stridulum
quiddam, et mollius sonat, quam K Grtfcum.

Est et hcec lit era Gallis plane nupervacanea, aut
certe qu est. Nam qui, quae, quod, quid nulla
pronunciant differentia, ne minima quidetn, a ki, ke,
kod, kid, faucibus, palatoque format ur* Capel.
Romani in sua serie non habebunt.

L

' Lingua, palatoque dulc&scit. M. Cap.

Etsic Dionysius yXvuvTUTov, dulcissimam literam
nominal.

Qui nescit, quid sit es$e Semi-vocalem, ex nostra
lingua facife pot er it discere : Ipsa enim literal^
quandam, quasi vocalem, in se videtur continere,
ita ut juncta mutae sine vocali sonumfaciat ; ut
abl, stabl, fabl, t^c.

Qu& nos scribimus cum e, injirie, vulgo
able, stable, fable.

Sed certi illud e non tarn sonat hie, quamfuscum
illud, etfoemininum Francorum e : Nam nequicquam
sonat.

Alii h<zc haud inconsultb scribunt
abil, stabil, fabul ;
Tanquam cifontibus

habilis, stabilis, fabula ;

Verius, sed nequicquam projiciunt. Nam consider -
atius auscultanti, nee i, nee u est, sed tinnitus qui-
dam, vocal is naturam habens, qua naturaliter his
liquid is inest.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 277

K

Which is a letter the Latins never acknow-
ledged, hut only borrowed in the word kalenda.
Thev used qu for it. We sound it as the Greek
x ; and as a necessary letter, it precedes and fol-
lows all vowels with us.

It goes hefore no consonants but n; as in

knave, knel, knot. Sec.
And /, with the quiet e after ; as in
mickle, pickle, trickle, Jickle.
Which were better written without the c, if
that which we have received for orthography
would yet be contented to be altered. But that
is an emendation rather to be wished than hoped
for, after so long a reign of ill custom amongst us.
It followeth the s in some words ; as in

skirt) skirmish.
Which do better so sound, than if written with c.

L

1 Is a letter half-vowelish ; which, though the
Italians (especially the Florentines) abhor, we
keep entire with the Latins, and so pronounce.

It melteth in the sounding, and is therefore
called a liquid, the tongue striking the root of
the palategently. Itisseldom doubled, but where
the vowel sounds hard upon it ; as in

hell, bell, kill; shrill, trull, full.

And, even in these, it is rather the haste, and
superfluity of the pen, that cannot stop itself
upon the single /, than any necessity we have
to use it. For, the letter should be doubled only
for a following syllabe's sake ; as in

killing, beginning) begging, swimming.

278 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

M

' Libris imprimitur. M. Capella.

Mugit intus abditum, ac ccecum sonum. Terent.

Triplex sonus hujus literal M Obscurum, in ex-
tremitatedictionumsonat , wftempium: Apertum,
in principle* ; ut magnus : Mediocre, in mediis ;
ut umbra. Prise.

N

Quarto? sonitus jingitur usque sub potato.
Quo spiritus anceps cot at iiaris, et oris. Terent.
Lingua dentibus appulxa collidit. Mart. Cap.
Splendidissimo sorto injine : et subtremulo pleniore
in principiis ) mediocri in media. Jul. C. Seal.

P

Labris spiritu erumpit. Mar, Cap.
Pellit sonitum de mediis foras labellis.

Ter. Maurus.
Q

" Est litera mendica, supposititia, vtre servilis,
manca, et decrepit a ; et sine u, tanquam bacillo,
nihil potest : et cum u nihil valet amplius quam k.
Qualis qualis est^ hanc jam habemus, sea semper
cum prcecedente sud u, ancilla superbd. Smithus.
Namque Q pr amiss a semper u, simul mugit sibi,
Syllabam non editura, ni comes sit tertia
Quwlibet vocalis. Ter. Mau.

Diomedes ait Q esse compositam ex c et u.
Appulsu palati ore restricto profertur. M. Cap.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 279

M

• Is the same with us in sound as with the
Latins. It is pronounced with a kind of humming
inward, the lips closed; open and full in the
beginning, obscure in the end, and meanly in
the midst.

N

* Ringeth somewhat more in the lips and nose ;
the tongue striking back on the palate, and hath
a threefold sound, shrill in the end, full in the
beginning, and flat in the midst.

They are letters near of kin, both with the
Latins and us.

P

u Breaketh softly through the lips, and is a
letter of the same force with us as with the Latins.

Q

w Is a letter we might very well spare in our
alphabet, if we would but use the serviceable k
as he should be, and restore him to the right of
reputation he had with our forefathers. For the
English Saxons knew not this halting Q, with
her waiting woman u after her; but exprest
quail, ~ fkuail,

ual, ~J f

Vuest> (bvl
quick, f J

quill, j \

quick, f J kuick,
quill, j \kuilL

Till custom, under the excuse of expressing
enfranchised words with us, intreated her into
our language, in

quality, quantity,
quarrel, quintessence, &c.
And hath now given her the best of A's pos-
sessions.

280 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

R

* Vibrat tremulis ictibus aridum sonorem. Ter. M.
— -Sonat hie de nare caninA
Litera Pers, Sat. 1.

R Spirit urn lingua crispante, corraditur. M. Cap.

Dionysius rccv opoyevewv rytvotiuT&rov ypdpfAU,
& congeneribus generosissimam appellavit.

S

y S promptus in ore, agiturque pone denies,
Sic lenis et unum ciet auribus susurrum.
Quare non est merit a, ut a Pindaro dicer etur
XavKtZSvi'hov. Dionysius quoque cum ipsum expellit,
rejicitque ad serpentes, maluit canem irritatem imi-
tari, quam arboris naturales susorros sequi. Seal.
Est Consonantiutn prima, et fortissimo, hcec

litera, ut agno^cit Terentianus. Ram.
Vwida est h&c inter omnes* atque densa litera.
Sibilumfacit dentibus verberatis. M. Cap.
Quotics litera media vocalium longarum, vet sub-
jecta longif esset, geminabitur ; ut Caussa, Cassus.
Quintil.

* T qua superis dentibus intima est origo

Summa satis est ad sonitumfer ire lingua. Ttr.
T. appulsu linguce, dentibusque appulsis excuditur.

M. Cap.

Latine factio, actio, generatio, corruptio, vi-
tium, otiuni, 8$c.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 281

R

* Is the dog's letter, and hurreth in the sound ;
the tongue striking the inner palate, with a
trembling about the teeth. It is sounded firm in
the beginning of the words, and more Liquid in
the middle and ends ; as in
rarer, riper.

And so in the Latin.

S

J Is a most easy and gentle letter, and softly
hisseth against the teeth in the prolation. It is
called the serpent* s letter, and the chief of the
consonants. It varieth the powers much in our
pronunciation, as in the beginning oi v onl* it
hath the sound of weak c before vowels, diphthongs,
or consonants ; as

salty say, small, sell,
shrik, shift, soft, £c.
Sometimes it inclineth to z; as in these, '

muse, use, rose, nose, wise,

and the like : where the latter vowel serves

for the mark or accent of the former's production.

So, after the half-vowels, or the obscure e ; as in

bells, gems, wens, burs,

chimes, names, games,

Where the vowel sits hard, it is commonly
doubled.

T

* Is sounded with the tongue striking the
upper teeth, and hath one constant power, save
where it precedeth /; and that again followed
by another vowel ; as in

faction, action, generation, corruption,
where it hath the force of s, or c.

282 GRAMM ATICA ANGLICANA.

X

T X potestatem habet cs, et gs ; ut

ex crux et frux, appareat.
Quorum obliqui casus sunt

Crucis et Frugis.

Ram. in Gram, ex Varrone.
X quicquid c et sformavit, exsibilat. Capell.
Neque Latini, neque Nos ilia multum utimur.

Z

• Z verd idcircd Appius Claudius detestabatur ;
quod denies mortui, dum exprimitur, imitatur.

M Capel.

^ Compendium duarum literarum est <r$, in und
notay et compendium Orthographic, non Prosodise;
quia hie in voce non una lit era effertur, sv.d duce dis-
tinguuntur. Compendium inelegant £r, ct j'allaciter
inventum. Sonus enim, not a ilia significatus, in unam
syllabam non perpetud concluditur, sed dividitur,
aliquando. Ut in illo Plauti loco: Non Atricissat,
sed Sicilissat, pro amm^^ o-iKtXiQt, Greeds ; et
ubi initium Jacit, est ^cr, non enr, sicuti fyv$, non
u^, $ed$<rev$. Ram. in lib. S.

H

Nulli dubium est,faucibus emicet quod ipsis

H litera sive est nota, quce spiret anhelum, Ter.

H, contractispaulumfaucibus, ventus exhalat.

Mar. Cap.

Vocalibus apttt, sed et anteposita cunctis
Hastas, Hederas, quum loquor, Hister, Hospes,

Hujus.

Solum patitur quatuor ante consonantes,
Graecis quotih nominibm Latina forma est,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 283

X

y Is rather an abbreviation, or way of short
writing with us, than a letter : for it hath the
sound of c and s, or k and s. It begins no word
with us, that I knovv, but ends many; as

ax, si#, fox, box,
which sound like these,

Backs, knacks, knocks, locks, &c.

Z

* Is a letter often heard among us, but seldom
seen ; borrowed of the Greeks at first, being
the same with £; and soimdeth in the middle as
double ss, though in the end of many English
words (where 'tis only properly used) it seems
to sound as s ; as in maze, gaze.

And on the contrary, words writ with s sound
like z ; as muse, nose, hose, as.

Never in the beginning, save in the West
country people, that have zed, zay, zit, zo, zomc,
and the like ; for said, say, sit, so, some.

Or in the body of words indenizened, i. e. de-
rived from the Greek, and commonly used as
English ; as

azure, zeal, zephyre, &c.

H

* Whether it be a letter or no, hath been much
examined by the ancients, and by some of the
Greek party too mucb condemned, and thrown
out of the alphabet, as an aspirate merely, and in
request only before vuzvels in the beginning of
words. The Welsh retain it still after many con-
sonants. But be it a letter, or spirit, we have
great use of it in our tongue, both before and
after vowels. And though I dare not say she is

284 GRAMMATICA ANGLIC AN A.

Si quando Chores Phillida, Rhamnes, Thima,

dico.

Recte quidem in hdcparte Graecissant nostri Walli.

Smithus.

H verd KOIT* t%°%yv aspiratio vocatur Est enim

omnium literarum spirituosissimu vcl spiritus po-

tius ipse. Nuliius, nut quam minimum cgens ofjicii

eorum. quce modd nominavimus instrumenta literarum

fornwndarum.

H extrinsecus ascribitur omnibus Vocalibus, ut
minimum somt ; Consonantibus autem quibusdam
intrinsecus.

Ch.

* Omnis litera, sive vo#> plus sonat ipsa sese, cum
fostponitur, quam cum ant eponitur. Quod vocalibus
accidem esse videtur ; nee si toilatur ea, ptrit ctiam
*ois significationis ; ut, si aicam Erennius, absque
aspiration^ quamvis vitium vidtarfacere, intdltctus
tamtn integer permanet Consonantibus autem si
cok&ret, ut ejusdem pemtus substantive sit, et si au-
jferatur, significationis vim minuat prorsus ; tit, si
dicam Cremes, pro Chremes. Undehac comidcrata
ratio/ie. Graecorum doctissimi singulas jecirunt eas
quoque lit eras, ut pro

th 6, pro pb <p, pro chi %. Ram.

Gb,

c Sonum illius g queer ant t quibus it a libet scri-
bere ; aures projecto mece nunquam in his vocibus
sonitum TV g poterant haurire.

Smithus de rect* et emend.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 285

(as I have heard one call her) the queen-mother
of consonants ; yet she is the life and quickening
of c, g, p, s, t, w ; as also r when derived from
the aspirate Greek £; as cheat, ghost, alphabet,
shape, that, what, rhapsody.

Of which more hereafter*

What her powers are before vowels and diph-
thongs, will appear in

hall, heal, hill, hot, how, hew, hoiday, &c.

In some it is written, but sounded without
power; as

host, honest, humble ;

where the vowel is heard without the aspiration; as
ost, omst, umb/e.

After the vowel it sounds ; as in ah, and oh.

Beside, it is coupled with divers consonants,
where 'the force varies, and is particularly to be
examined.

We will begin with Ch.

Ch.

b Hath the force of the Greek %, or *, in
many words derived from the Greek ; as in
charact, Christian, chronicle, archangel, monarch.
In mere English words, or fetched from the
Latin, the force of the Italian c.

chaplain, chast, chest, chops,
chin, chuff, churl.

Gh.

c Is only a piece of ill writing with us : if we
could obtain of custom to mend it, it were not
the worse for our language, or us : for the g
sounds just nothing in

trough, cough, might, night, &c.

Only the writer was at leisure to add a super-
fluous letter, as there are too many in
dography*

286 GRAMMATICA ANGLICANA.

Ph. et Rh.
* Litera q> apud Grsecos, £ aspirata.

Sh.

e Si quis error in literisferendus est, cum corrigi
queat, nusquam in ullo sono tolerabilior est, quam in
hoc, si scribatur Sh : et in }> si scribatur per th.
Nam hae duce quandam violent iam grandiorem spi-
ritus in proferendo requirunt, quam ccetera liters.
Ibid.

Th.

f Hdc litera sive charactere, quam spinam, id est,
forne, nostri Proavi appellabant, Am nostri, et qui
proxime ante librorum impressionem virerunt, sunt
abusi, ad omnia ea scribenda, quce nunc magno ma-
gistrorum err ore per th scribimus ; ut

J?e. >ou. J>at. J***. J?*se. >iek.

Sed ubi mollior cvprimebatur sonus, superne scri-
bebant : ubi durior in eodem sulco ; molllorem ap-
pello ilium, quern Anglo-Sax ones per 8 durior em,
quern per}, exprimebant. Nam illud Saxonum «
respondet illi sono, quern vulgaris Grseca lingua
facit, quando pronunciant suum 9, aut Hispani d,
liter am suam mollior em, ut cum veritatem, verdad
appellant. Spina autem ilia }>, videtur referre pror^
sus Graecorum 0. At th sonum 0 non recte dat.
Nam si 0 non esset alia deftexio vocis, nisi aspira-
tionis addita, aque facile fuit Grecis r<a r aspira-
tionem adjungere, quam T*> \*

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 287

Ph Sc Rh.

d Are used only in Greek infranchised words ;
as

Philip, physic, rhetoric, Rhodes, &c.

Sh

* Is merely English, and hath the force of the
Hebrew ttf shin, or the French ch ; as in
shake, shed, shine, show,
shrink, rush, blush.

Th

( Hath a double and doubtful sound, which
must be found out by use of speaking; some-
times like the Greek 0; as in

thief, thing, lengthen, strengthen, loveth, Sec.

In others, like their $, or the Spanish d; as

this, that, then, thence,

those, bathe, bequeath.

And in this consists the greatest difficulty of
our alphabet, and true writing : since we have
lost the Saxon characters % and > that distin-
guished

«e, ") rj>ick,

*p,

Wh

Hath been enquired of in o>. And this for the
letters.

288 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

CHAP. V.
OF THE DIPHTHONGS.

Diphthongs are the complexions or couplings of
vowels, when the two letters send forth a joint
sound, so as in one syllabe both sounds be heard ;
as in

Ai, or Ay,
aid, maid, said, pay, day, way.

Au, or Aw,
audience, author, aunt, law, saw, draw.

Ea,

earl, pearl, meat, seat, sea, flea.
To which add yea and plea ; and you have at
one view all our words of this termination.

Ei,

sleight, streight, weight, theirs.

Ew,
few, strew, drew, anew.

Oi, or Oy,

point, joint, soil, coil,
joy, toy, boy.

00,

good, food, mood, brood, &c.

Ou, or Ow,
rout, stout, how,
now, bow, low.

Vi, or Vy,

puissance, or puyssance; juice, orjuyce.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. £89

These nine are all I would observe; for to

mention more, were but to perplex the reader.

The Oa, and Ee, will be better supplied in our

orthography by the accenting e in the end ; as in

brode, lode, cote, bote, quene.

Neither is the double ee to be thought on, but
in derivatives; as trees, sees, and the like, where
it is as two syllabes. As for eo, it is found but in
three words in our tongue,

yeoman, people, jeopard.
Which were truer written,

yeman, peple, jSpard.

And thus much shall suffice for the diphthongs.

The triphthong is of a complexion rather to be
feared than loved, and would fright the young
grammarian to see him : I therefore let him pass,
and make haste to the notion —

CHAP. VI.
OF THE SYLLABES.

A Syllabe is a part of a word that may of itself
make a perfect sound ; and is sometimes of one
only letter, which is always a vowel ; sometimes
of more.

Of one, as in every first vowel in these words :
a. a- bated.
e. e-clipsed,
i. i-magined.
o. o-mitted.
u. u-surped.

A syllabe of more letters is made either of
vowels only, or of consonants joined with vowels.
Of vowels only, as the diphthongs,
ai, in ai-ding.
aUj in au-stere.
VOL. ix. U

290 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

ea, in ea-sic, ea-ting.
ei, in ei-ry of hawks.
ezv, in ezv-er, &c. and in
the triphthong yea.

Of the vowels mixed ; sometimes but with one
consonant, as to ; sometimes two, as try ; some-
times three, as best ; or four, as nests ; or five,
as stumps; otherwhile six, as the latter syllabe in
restraints: at the most they can have but eight,
as strengths.

Some syllabes, as

the, then, there, that,
with, and which,
are often compendiously and shortly written; as

e en ere t

y y y y

th ch

w and w

which whoso list may use; but orthography
commands it not : a man may forbear it, without
danger of falling into pramunire.

Here order would require to speak of the
quantity of syllabes, their special prerogative among
the Latins and Greeks ; whereof so much as is
constant, and derived from nature, hath been
handled already. The other, which grows by
position, and placing of letters, as yet (not through
default of our tongue, being able enough to re-
ceive it, but our own carelessness, being negligent
to give it) is ruled by no art. The principal
cause whereof seemeth to be this ; because our
verses and rhymes (as it is almost with all other
people, whose language is spoken at this day)
are natural, and such whereof Aristotle speaketh
gjc ruv cwlw>%$iwrfuiTtt*) that is, made of ^natural

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

and voluntary composition, without regard to the
quantity or syllabes.

This would ask a larger time and field than is
here given for the examination : but since I am
assigned to this province, that it is the lot of my
age, after thirty years conversation with men, to
be element arius scnev, I will promise and obtain
so much of myself, as to give, in the heel of the
book, some spur and incitement to that which I
so reasonably seek/ Not that I would have the
vulgar and practised way of making, abolished
and abdicated (being both sweet anddelightful,
and much taking the ear) but to the end our
tongue may be made equal to those of the re-
nowned countries Italy and Greece, touching
that particular. And as for the difficulty, that
shall never withdraw, or put me off from the
attempt : for neither is any excellent thing done
with ease, nor the compassing of this any whit
to be despaired : especially when Quintilian hath
observed to me, by this natural rhyme, that we
have the other artificial, as it were by certain
marks and footings, first traced and found out.
And the Grecians themselves before Homer, as
the Romans likewise before Livius Andronicus,
had no other meters. Thus much therefore shall
serve to have spoken concerning the parts of a
word, in a letter and a syllabe.

It followeth to speak of the common affections,
which unto the Latins, Greeks, and Hebrews,
are two ; the accent and notation. And first,

J I will promise and obtain so much of myself, as to, &c.] <<; It
may be considered as a loss to posterity, that it does not appear,
he (Ben Jonson) ever performed the promise here made, with
respect to adjusting the quantity of syllabes." Preface to Wiird's
Essays upon the English Language, p. 5. WHAL.

292 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

CHAP. VII.
OF THE ACCENT.

The accent (which unto them was a tuning of the
voice, in lifting it up, or letting* it down) hath
not yet obtained with us any sign; which not-
withstanding were most needful to be added ;
not wheresoever the force of an accent lieth, but
where, for want of one, the svord is in danger to
be mis - tuned , as in

abased^ excessive, besoted,
obtain, ungodly, surrender.
But the use of it will be seen much better by
collation of words, that according unto the divers
place of their accent, are diversly pronounced,
and have divers significations. Such are the
words following, with their like; as
differ, defer ; desert, desert ; present, present ;
refuse, refuse; object, object; incense, inctnse;

convert, convert ; torment, torment, &c.
In original nouns, adjective or substantive, de-
rived according to the rule of the writer of ana-
logy, the accent is intreated to the first; as in
fatherless, motherless,
peremptory, haberdasher.
Likewise in the adverbs,

brotherly, sisterly.

All nouns dissyllabic simple, in the first, as
belief, honour, credit,
silver, surety.
All nouns trisyllabic, in the first ;

countenance, jeopardy, &c.
All nouns compounded in the first, of how
many syllabes soever they be ; as

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 293

tennis-court keeper, chimney-sweeper.
Words simple in able, draw the accent to the
first, though they be of four syllabes ; as

sociable, tolerable.

When they be compounded, they keep the
same accent; as

insatiable, intolerable.

But in the way of comparison, it altereth
thus: some men are sociable, others insociable ;
some tolerable, others intolerable: for the accent
sits on the syllabe that puts difference ; as

sincerity, insincerity.

Nouns ending in tion, or sion, are accented in
ante-penultima ; as

condition, infusion, Sec.
In ty, a La tints, in antepenultimd ; as

verity, charity, simplicity.
In ence, in antepenultim& ; as

pestilence, abstinence,
sustenance, consequence.

All verbs dissyllabes ending in er, el, ry, and
ish, accent inprima; as

cover, cancel, carry, bury,
Ifrvy, ravish, Sec.

Verbs made of nouns follow the accent of the
nouns ; as

to blanket, to bdsquet.

All verbs coming from the Latin, either of
the supine, or otherwise, hold the accent as it is
found in the first person present of those Latin
verbs ; as from

Animo, animate;
celebro, celebrate.
Except words compounded off ado ; as

liquefdcio, liquefie.
And of statuo ; as

constituo, constitute.

294 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

All variations of verbs hold the accent in the
same place as the theme,

I animate, thou cinirnatest, &c.

And thus much shall serve to have opened the
fountain of orthography* Now let us come to the
notation of a word.

CHAP. VIII.

THE NOTATION OF A WORD,

Is when the original thereof is sought out, and
consisteth in two things, the kind and \hzjigure.
The kind is to know whether the word be a
primitive, or derivative : as

man, love,
are primitives ;

manly, lover,
are derivatives.

The Jigure is to know whether the word be
simple, or compounded ; as

learned, say, are simple ;
unlearned, gain-say, are compounded.
In which kind of composition* our English
tongue is above all other very hardy and happy,
joining together, after a most eloquent manner,
sundry words of every kind of speech; as
mill-horse, lip-wise, stlj-love,
twy -light, thereabout,
not -wit h-st an ding , be- cause,
cut -purse, never- the- less.

These are the common affections of a word :
the divers sorts now follow. A word is of number,
or without number. Of number that word is termed
to be, which signifieth a number singular, or
pluraL

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 295

Singular, which expresseth pne only thing ; as

tree, book, teacher.

Plural, when it expresseth more things than
one ; as

trees, books, teachers.

Again, a word of number is Jinite or infinite.
Finite which varieth his number with certain
endings ; as

man, men; run, runs;
horse, horses.
Infinite, which varieth not; as

true, strong, running, &c,
both in the singular and plural,

Moreover, a word of number is a noun or a
verb. But here it were fit we did first number
our words, or parts of speech, ofwhich our lan-
guage consists.*

* Compositio.

Sape tria coagmentantur nomina; ut, a foot- ball
player, a tennis-court-keeper.

Sccpissime duo substantiva ; ut9 hand-kerchief,
rain-bow, eye-sore, table-napkin, head-ach,

Substantivum cum verbo ; ut, wood-bind.
Pronomen cum subs t ant wo ; ut, self-love,
r/a; self-freedom, avjovopta.

Verbum cum substantivo ; ut, a puff-cheek,

®>*. Draw-well, draw-bridge.
Adjectivum cum substantivo; ut> New-ton, vectTro-
^. Handi-craft, %e^o<ro<p/#.
Adverbium cum substantivo ; ut, down-fall.
Adverbium cum participio ; ut, up-rising, down-

296 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

CHAP. IX.
OF THE PARTS OF SPEECH.

In our English speech we number the same parts
with the Latins.

Noun Adverb,

Pronoun, Conjunction,

Verb, Proposition,

Participle, Interjection.

Only we add a ninth, which is the article: and
that is two-fold ,

Finite, i. e. relating to both numbers ; as the.
Infinite, relating only to the singular ; as a.
Thejinite is set before nouns appellatives ; as
the horse, the horses ;
the tree, the trees.

Proper names and pronouns refuse articles, except
for emphasis sake ; as

the Henry of Henries,
the only He of the town.

Where he stands for a noun, and signifies man.
The infinite hath a power of declaring and de-
signing uncertain or infinite things ; as

a man, a hou,se ; not a men, a houses.
This article a answers to the German em, or
the French or Italian articles, derived from one,
not numeral, but prepositive ; as

a house, ein hause. Ger,

une maison. French,
una casa. Italian.

The is put to both numbers, and answers to
the German article, der, die, das.
Save that it admits no inflection.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 297

CHAP. X.

OF THE NOUNS.

ALL nouns are words of number, singular or plural.

r common, -\ r substantive,

They arzlptvper, land are allj or
I personal, J I adjective.

Their accidents are

gender, case, declension.

Of the genders there are six.

1. Masculine. First, the masculine, which compre-

hend eth all males, or what is un-
derstood under a masculine species; as angels,
men, stars: and (by prosopopoeia) the months,
winds, almost all the'planets.

Second, thej'eminine, which com-

2. Feminine. priseth women, and female species ;

islands, countries, cities:
and some rivers with us ; as

Severn, Avon, Sec.

3. Neuter. Third, the neuter, or feigned gen-

der : whose notion conceives nei-
ther sex Minder which are comprised all inanimate
things, a ship excepted : of whom we say, she
sails well, though the name be Hercules, or
Henry> or the Prince. As Terence called his co-
medy Eunuchus, per vocabulum artis.

Fourth, the promiscuous, or epi-

4. Epicene. cene, which understandsboth kinds:

especially, when we cannot make
the difference ; as, when we call them horses,
and dogs, in the masculine, though there be bitches

298 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

and mares amongst them. So to fowls, for the
most part, we use the feminine; as ok' eagles, hawks,
we say, she flies well ; and call them geese, ducks,
and doves, which they fly at, not distinguishing
the sex.

Fifth, the common, or rather
5. Doubtful. doubtful gender, we use often, and

with elegance ; as in
cousin, gossip, friend, neighbour, enemy,
servant, thief, £c. including both sexes.

The sixth is, the common of three
ThreT genders ; by which a noun is divi-

ded into substantive and adjective.
For a substantive is a waw/j of one only gender, or
(at the most) of two : and an adjective is a
of three genders, being always infinite.

CHAP. XL
OF THE DIMINUTION OF NOUNS.

The common affection of nouns is diminution. A
diminutive is a noun noting the diminution of his
primitive.

The diminution of substantives hath these four
divers terminations.

El. part, parcel; cock, cockerel.
Et. capon, caponet ; poke, pocket ; baron, ba-
ronet.

Ock. hill, hillock ; bull, bullock.
Ing. goose, gosling ; duck, duckling.
So from the adjective, dear, darling.
Many diminutives there are, which rather beabu-
sions of speech, than any proper English words.
And such for the most part are men's and women's

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

names: names which are spoken in a kind of
flatterv, especially among familiar friends and
lovers as

Richard, Dick; William, Will;
Margery. Madge; Mary, MaL
Diminution of adjectives is in this one end, ish; as

white, whitish ; green, greenish.
After which manner certain adjectives of likeness
are also formed from their substantives; as
devil, devilish ; thief, thievish ;
colt, coltish; elf, elvish.

Some nouns steal trie form of diminution, which
neither in signification shew it, nor can derive
it from a primitive; as

gibbet, doublet, peevish.

CHAR XII.
OF COMPARISONS.

THESE then are the common affections both of
substantives and adjectives : there follow certain
others not general to them both, but proper and
peculiar to each one. The proper affection there-
fore of adjectives is comparison : of which, after
the positive, there be two degrees reckoned,
namely, the comparative, and the superlative.

The comparative is a degree declared by the
positive with this adverb more; as
wiser, or more wise.

The superlative is declared by the positive, with
this adverb most; as

wisest, or most wise.

Both which d egrees are formed of the positive;

300 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

the comparative, by putting to er; the superlative,
by putting to est ; as in these examples:

learned, learneder, learnedest ;

simple, simpler, simplest ;

true, truer, truest ;

black, blacker, blackest ;

From this general rule a few special words are
excepted; as

good, better, best ;

ill, or bad, worse, worst ;

little, less, least;

much, more, most.
Many words have no comparison ; as

reverend, puissant ;

victorious, renowned.

Others have both degrees, but lack the positive,
as

former, foremost.
Some are formed of adverbs ; as

wisely, wiselier, wiseliest ;

justly, justlier,justliest.
Certain comparisons form out of themselves; as

less, lesser;

worse* worser.

CHAP. XIII.
Of THE FIRST DECLENSION.

And thus much concerning the proper affection of
adjectives : the proper affection of substantives foi-
loweth ; and that consisteth in declining.

A declension is the varying of a noun substantive
into divers terminations^ Where, besides the ab-
solute, there is as it were a genitive case, made in
the singular number, by putting to s.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 301

Of declensions there be two kinds : the first
maketh the plural of the singular, by adding
thereunto s; as

tree, trees;
thing, things ;
steeple, steeples.

So with s, by reason of the near affinity of
these two letters, whereof we have spoken before:
park, parks ; buck, bucks ;
dwarf', dwarfs; path, paths;
And in this jirst declension, the genitive plural is
all one with the plural absolute ; as

athers.

General Exceptions. Nouns ending in z, s9 sh,
g and ch, in the declining take to the genitive
singular i, and to the plural e; as

so rose, bush, age, breech, &c. which distinctions
not observed, brought in first the monstrous
syntax of the pronoun his joining with a noun
betokening a possessor; as the prince his house,
for the prince's house.

Many words ending in diphthongs or vowels
take neither % nor s, but only change their diph-
thongs or vowels, retaining their last consonant,
or one of like force ; as

mouse, mice or meece ;
louse, lice or leecc ;
goose, geese ; foot, feet ;
tooth, teeth. "

Exception of number. Some nouns of thcjirst
declension lack the plural ; as

rest, gold, silver, bread.
Others the singular ; as

riches, goods.
Many being in their principal signification

302 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

adjectives, are here declined, and in the plural
stand instead of substantives ; as

other, others ; one, ones ;

hundred, hundreds ; thousand, thousands;

necessary, necessaries ; and such like.

CHAP. XIV.
OF THE SECOND DECLENSION.

THE second declension formeth the plural from the
singular, by putting to n ; which notwithstanding
it have not so many nouns as hath the former,
yet lacketh not his difficulty, by reason of sundry
exceptions, that cannot easily be reduced to one
general head : of this former is

o#, oxen; hose, hosen.

Exceptions. Man and woman, by a contraction,
make men and women, instead of manen and wo-
menen. Cow makes kine or keene : brother, for bre-
theren, hath brethren, and brethern: child formeth
the plural, by adding r besides the root ; for we
say not childtn, which, according to the rule given
before, is the right formation, but children, be-
cause that sound is more pleasant to the ear.

Here the genitive plural (denoting the possessor)
is made by adding s unto the absolute ; as
child. 7 r>i (children.

Exceptions from both declensions. Some nouns
(according to the different dialects of several
parts of the country) have the plural of both
declensions; as

house, houses and housen ;

eye, eyes and eyen ;

shooe, shooes and shooen.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 303

CHAP. XV.
OF PRONOUNS.

A few irregular nouns, varying from the general
precepts, are commonly termed pronouns; whereof
the first four, instead of the genitive, have an ac-
cusative case ; as

/, -\ r We. Thou, i . You

[PlurJ [PlurJ or

Me, J I Us. Thee, J I They.

He, she, that, all three make in the plural, they,
them,

Four possessives : my, or mine : plural, our, ours.
Thy, thine: plural, your, yours. His, hers, both in
the plural making their, theirs.

The demonstratives : this : plural, these. That :
plural, those. Yon, or yonder same.

Three interrogates , whereof one requiring
both genitive and accusative, and taken for a sub-
stantive : 'who ? whose ? whom ? The other two
infinite, and adjectively used, what, whether.

Two articles, in gender and number infinite,
which the Latins lack : a, the.

One relative, which : one other signifying a
reciprocation, self : plural, selves.

Composition of pronouns is more common:
my -self] our -selves,
thy -self, your-selves.
him- self, ^

her-self, > Plural, t hem-selves,
it-self, 3

ITiis-same, that-same, yon-samej yonder-same, self*
same.

304 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

CHAR XVI.
OF A VERB.

Hitherto we have declared the whole etymology
of nouns ; which in easiness and shortness, is
much to be preferred before the Latins and the
Grecians. It remaineth with like brevity, if it
may be, to prosecute the etymology of a verb. A
verb is a word of number, which hath both time
and person. Time is the difference of a verb, by
the present, past, and future, or to come. A verb
finite therefore hath three only times, and those
always imperfect.

The first is the present ; as

amo, I love.
The second is the time past ; as

amabam, I loved.
The third is t\\e future; as

Ama, amato : love, love.
The other times both imperfect ; as

amem, amarem, amabo.
And also perfect; as

amavi, amaverim, amaveram, amavissem, amavero,
we use to express by a syntax, as shall be seen
in the proper place.

The future is made of the present, and is the
same always with it.

Of this future ariseth a verb infinite, keeping
the same termination ; as likewise of the present,
and the time past, are formed the participle pre-
sent, by adding of ing ; as

love, loving.
The other is all one with the time past.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 305

The passive is expressed by a syntax, like the
time's going before, as hereafter shall appear*

A person is the special difference of a verbal
number, whereof the present, and the time past,
have in every number three.

The second and third person singular of the
present ire made of the first, by adding est and
eth ; which last is sometimes shortened into s.

The time past is varied, by adding in like
manner in the second person singular est, and
making the third like unto the first.

The ^future hath but only two persons, the se-
cond and third ending both alike.

The persons plural keep the termination of the
first person singular. In former times, till about
the reign of king Henry the eighth, they were
wont to be formed by adding en ; thus,

loven, sayen, complainen.

But now (whatsoever is the cause) it hath quite
grown out of use, and that other so generally
prevailed, that I dare not presume to set this
afoot again : albeit (to tell you my opinion) I
am persuaded that the lack hereof well consi-
dered will be found a great blemish to our tongue.
For seeing time and person be, as it were, the
right and left-hand of zverb, what can the maim-
ing bring else, but a lameness to the whole body?

And by reason of these two differences, averb
is divided two manner of ways.

First, in respect of persons, it is called/) rsonal,
or impersonal.

Personal, which is varied by three persons; as
love, lovest, loveth.

Impersonal, which only hath the third person ; as
bchoveth, irketh.

Secondly, in consideration of the times, we term
it active, or neuter.

VOL. ix. X

306 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Active, whose participle past may be joined
with the verb am ; as

/ am loved, thou art hated.
Neuter, which cannot be so coupled ; as

pertain, die, live.

This therefore is the general forming of a
verb, which must to every special one hereafter
be applied.

CHAP. XVIL
OF THE FIRST CONJUGATION.

The varying of a verb by persons and times, both
finite and infinite, is termed a conjugation: whereof
there be two sorts. The first fetcheth the time
past from the present, by adding ed ; and is thus
varied :

Pr, love, lovest, loveth. PL love, love, love.
Pa. loved, loved' st, loved. PI. loved, loved, loved.
Fu. love, love. PI. love, love.

Inf. love.

Part. pr. loving.
Part. past, loved.
Verbs are oft times shortened ; as
sayest, saist ; would, tvou'd;
should, shou'd: holpe, ho'pe.
But this is more common in the leaving out of
e; as

loved 'st, for lovedest ;
rubb'd, rubbed; took'st, tookest.
Exception of the time past, for ed, have d or
t; as

Licked, lickt ; leaved, left ;
Gaped, gap'd; blushed, blush' d.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 307

Some verbs ending in d, for avoiding the con-
course of too many consonants, do cast it away ; as
lend, lent ; spend, spent ; gird, girt.

Make, by a rare contraction, is here turned
into made. Many verbs in the time past, vary not
at all from the present ; such are cast, hurt, cost,
burst, &c.

CHAP. XVIII.
OF THE SECOND CONJUGATION.

AND so much for the first conjugation, being
indeed the most useful forming of a verb, and
thereby also the common finn to lodge every
strange and foreign guest. That which folio weth,
for any thing I can find, (though I have with
some diligence searched after it) entertaineth
none but natural and home-born words, which
though in number they be not many, a hundred
and twenty, or thereabouts ; yet in variation
are so divers and uncertain, that they need much
the stamp of some good logic to beat them into
proportion. We have set down that, that in our
judgment agreeth best with reason and good
order. Which notwithstanding, if it seem to any
to be too rough hewed, let him plane it out more
smoothly, and I shall not only not envy it, but,
in the behalf of my country, most heartily thank
him for so great a benefit ; hoping that I shall
be thought sufficiently to have done my part, if
in tolling this bell, I may draw others to a deeper
consideration of the matter: for, touch ing myself,
I must needs confess, that after much painful
churning, this only would come, which here we
have devised.

X2

SOS THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

The second conjugation therefore turneth the
present into the time past, by the only change of
his letters, namely, of vowels alone, or consonants
also.

Verbs changing vowels only, have no certain
termination of the participle past, but derive it
as well from the present, as the time past : and
that other- while differing from either, as the
examples following do declare.

The change of vowelsis, either of simple vowels,
or of diphthongs ; whereof the first goeth by the
order of vowels, which we also will observe.

An a is turned into oo.

Pres. shake, shakest.shaketh. PL shake, shake, shake.
Past, shook, shookest, shook. PI. shook, shook, shook.
Fut. shake, shake. PI. shake, shake.

Inf. shake.

Part. pre. shaking.
Part. pa. shaken.

This form do the verbs take, wake, forsake, and
hang, follow ; but hang in the time past maketh
hung, not hangcn.

Hereof the verb am is a special exception, being
thus varied :

Pr. am, art, is. PI. are, are, are ; or be, be, be,
of the unused word, be, beest, bceth, in the sin-
gular.

Past, was, wast, was; or, were, wert, were. PL
were, were, were.

Fut. be, be. Plur. be, be.

Inf. be.

Part. pr. being.

Part. past. been.

Ea casteth away a, and maketh e short :
Pr. lead. Past. led. Part. pa. led.

The rest of the times and persons, both singular
and plural, in this and the other verbs that follow,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 309

because they jump with the former examples
and rules in every point, we have chosen rather
to omit, than to thrust in needless words.

Such are the verbs, eat, beat, (both making
participles past ; besides et and bet, or eaten and
beaten) spread, dread, sweat, tread.
Then a, or o, indifferently;
Pr. break.
Past, brake, or broke.
Par. pa. broke, or broken.

Hither belong, speak, swear, tear, cleave, wear,
steal, bear, shear, weave. So, get, and help ; but
holpe is seldom used, save with the poets.
i is changed into a.
Pr. give.

Past. gave.
Par. pa. given.
So bid, and sit.

And here sometimes*' is turned intofl and o both.
Pr. win.

Past, wan, or won.
Par. pa* won.

Of this sort are Jling, ring, wring, sing, sting,
stick, spin, strike, drink, sink, spring, begin, stink,
shrink, swing, swim.

Secondly, verbs that have ce, lose one ; as
Pr. feed.

Past. fed.
Par. pa. fed.

Also meet, breed, bleed, speed.
Or change them into o ; as
Pr. seeth.

Past. sod.
tar. pa. sod, or soden.
Lastly, into aw ; as
Pr. see.

Past. saw.
Par. pa. seen.

310 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

O hath a.

Pr. come.

Past. came.

Par. pa. come.
And here it may besides keep its proper vowel.

Pr. run.

Past, ran, or nw.

Par. pa. run*
oo maketh o.

Pr. choose.

Past, c//0se.

Par. pa. chosen.

And one more, shoot, shot; in the participle
past, shot, or shot ten.

Some pronounce theverfoby ihe diphthong ew>
chetvse, shewt; and that is Scottish-like.

CHAP. XIX.
OF THE THIRD CONJUGATION.

THE change of diphthongs is of ay,y, aw, and ow /
all which are changed into ew.

{Pr. s/0y.

Past. slew.
Par. pa. slain.
rPr. /J/.

jq Past. ^ew.
«- Par, pa. fawn.

{Pr, ^/r«w.

Past. drew.
Par. pa. drawn.
{Pr. foww.

Past. &wew.
Pan pa. known.

v»

i

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 311

This last form cometh oftener than the three
former ; as snow, grow, throw, blow, crow.
Secondly ; some verbs in ite or ide, lose e; as
Pr. bite.

Past. bit.
Par. pa. bit, or bitten.
Likewise, hide, quite, make hid, quit.
So, shine, strive, thrive, change i into o in the
time past ; as shone, strove, throve.

And as i severally frameth either e or o ; so
may it jointly have them both.
Pr. 7*lse.

Past. ris, rise, or rose.
Par. pa. ris, rise, or risen.
To this kind pertain, smite, write, bide, ride,
climb, drive, chide, stride, slide; which make smlt,
writ, bid, rid, climb, drive, chid, strld, slid; or
smote, wrote, bode, rodet cldmb, drove, chod, strod,
sldd.

Thirdly, i is sometimes changed into the diph-
thongs ay and ou ; as

t Pr. lie.

ay A Past. lay.

I Par. pa. lien, or lain.
fPr. jind.

ou.\ Past. found.
I Par. pa. found.

So bind, grind, wind,fght, make bound, ground,
wound, fought.

Last of all, aw and ow do both make e.

rPr. fall.

e.l Past. fell.

I Par. pa. fallen.

Such is the verb, fraught ; which Chaucer, in
the Man of Law's Tale :

This merchants have done, freight their ships new.

812 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

rPr. hold.

oJPast. held.

C Par. pa. held, or holden.
Exceptions of the time past.
Some that are of the jirst conjugation only,
have in the participle past, besides their own, the
form of the second, and the third ; as
hew, hewed, and hewn,
mow, mowed, and mowen.
load, loadd, and loaden.

CHAP. XX.
OF THE FOURTH CONJUGATION.

VERBS that convey the time past for the present,
by the change both of vowels and consonants,
following the terminations of the Jirst conjugation,
end in d, or t.

Pr. stand.

Pa. stood.

Such are these words,

Pr. will, wilt, will.

Pa. would, wouldest, would.

Fut. will, will.

The infinite times are not used.
Pr. (can. canst, can.
Pa. t cold,* or could.
Fut. c shall, shalt, shall.
Pa. 1 should.

The other frVwas of either verb are lacking.
Pr. < hear.
Pa. 1 heard.
Pr.
Pa.

a An old English word, for which now we commonly use
shall, or shatoll.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 313

So tell, told.

Of the other sort are these, and such like.
Pr, c/eei
Pa. Ifelt.

So creep, sleep, weep, keep, sweep, mean.
Pr. c teach.
Pa. i taught.

To this form belong think, retch, seek, reach,
catch, bring, work; and buy and owe, which make
bought and ought.

Pr. f dare, darest, dare.
Pa. t durst, durst durst.
Pr. ^^may, may st, may.
Pa. 1 might, mightest, might.
These two verfo want the other fi'ftz&f.
A general exception from the former conju-
gations. Certain verbs have the form of either
conjugation ; as

hang, hanged, and hung.
So cleave, shear, sting^ climb, catch9 &c.

CHAP. XXI.
OF ADVERBS.

THUS much shall suffice for the etymology of
words that have number, both in a noun and a
verb : whereof the former is but short and easy;
the other longer, and wrapped with a great deal
more difficulty. Let us now proceed to the ety-
mology of words without number.

A word without number is that which without
his principal signification iioteth not any number.
Whereof there be two kinds, an adverb and a
conjunction.

314 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

An adverb is a word without number that is
joined to another word ; as
well learned,
hejighteth valiantly,
he disputeth very subtlely.

So that an adverb is as it were an adjective of
nouns, verbs, yea, and adverbs also themselves.

Adverbs are either of quantity, or quality. Of
Quantity; as

enough, too-much, altogether.
Adverbs of quality be of divers sorts :
First, of number; as once, twice, thrice.
Secondly, of time; as to-day, yesterday, then,

by and by, ever, when,

Thirdly, of place; as here, there, where, yonder.
Fourthly, in affirmation, or negation ; as

/, or ay, yes, indeed, no, not, nay.
Fifthly, in wishing, calling, and exhorting:
Wishing ; as O, if.
Calling ; as ho, sirrah.
Exhorting ; as so, so; there, there.
Sixthly, in similitude and likeness; as

so, even so, likewise, even as.
To this place pertain all adverbs of quality what-
soever, being formed from nouns, for the most
part, by adding ly ; as

just. justly ; true, truly;
strong, strongly ; name, namely.
Here also adjectives, as well positive as compared,
stand for adverbs ;

When he least thinketh, soonest shall he fall.
Interjections^ commonly so termed, are in right
adverbs, and therefore may justly lay title to this
room. Such are these that follow, with their
like: as

ah, alas, woe, jie, tush, ha, ha, he.

st, a note of silence : Rr, that servcth to

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 315

set dogs together by the ears: hrr, to chase
birds away.

Prepositions are also a peculiar kind of adverbs,
and ought to be referred hither. Prepositions are
separable or inseparable.

Separable are for the most part of time and
place; as

among, according, without,

afore, after, before, behind,

under upon, beneath, over,

against, besides near.

Inseparable prepositions are they which signify
nothing, if they be not compounded with some
other words ; as

re, un, in release, unlearned.

CHAP. XXII.
CONJUNCTIONS.

A conjunctions a word without number, knitting
divers speeches together: and is declaring, or
reasoning. Declaring, which utiereth the parts of
a sentence : and that again is gathering, or sepa-
rating. Gathering* whereby the parts are affirmed
to be true together : which is coupling, or condi-
tioning. Coupling, when the parts are severally
affirmed; as

and, also, neither.

Conditioning, by which the part following de-
pendeth, as true, upon the part going before ; as
if, unless, except.

A separating conjunction is that whereby the
parts (as being not true together) are separated ;
and is

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

severing,

or

sundring.

Severing, when the parts are separated only in
a certain respect or reason ; as

but) although, notwithstanding.
Sundring, when the parts are separated indeed,
and truly, so as more than one cannot be true ; as

either, whether, or.

Reasoning conjunctions are those which conclude
one of the parts by the other ; whereof some
render a reason, and some do infer,

Rendering are such as yield the cause of a thing
going before ; as

for, because.

Inferring, by which a thing that cometh after,
is concluded by the former ; as
therefore, wherefore>
so that, insomuch that.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 317

THE

SECOND BOOK

OF THE

ENGLISH GRAMMAR,

OF SYNTAX.

CHAP. I.
OF APOSTROPHUS.

As yet we have handled etymology, and all the
parts thereof. Let us come to the consideration
of the syntax.

Syntax is the second part of grammar, that
teacheth the construction of words ; whereunto
apostrophusf an affection of words coupled and
joined together, doth belong,

Apostrophus is the rejecting of a vowel from
the beginning or ending of a word. The note
whereof, though it many times, through the
negligence of writers and printers, is quite
omitted, yet by right should, and of the learn-
eder sort hath his sign and mark, which is such
a semi-circle (') placed in the top.

In the end a vowel may be cast away, when

* The Latins and H«br«ws haie none.

318 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

theword next following beginneth with another ;
as,

Th9 outward man decay eth ;

So th* inward man get t eth strength.

If ly utter such words of pure love, and friendship,

What then may we look for, if y once begin to

hate f

Gower, lib. 1. de Confess. Amant,
Ifthou'rt of his company, tell forth, my son,
It is time f awake from sleep.

Vowels suffer also this apostrophes before the
consonant h.

Chaucer, in the 3d book of Troilus.
For of fortune's sharp adversitie*
The worst kind of'unfortune is this :
A man t' have been in prosperitie,
And it to remember when it passed is.

The first kind then is common with the Greeks ;
but that which followeth, is proper to us, which
though it be not of any, that I know, either in
writing or printing, usually expressed : yet con-
sidering that in our common speech nothing is
more familiar (upon the which all precepts are
grounded, and to the which they ought to be
referred) who can justly blame me, if, as near as
I can, I follow nature's call.

This rejecting, therefore, is both in vowels and
consonants going before :

There is nojire^ there is no sparke,
There is no dore, which may charke.

Gower, lib. iv.

Who answered, that he was not privy to it.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 319

and in excuse seem' d to be very sore displeased
with the' matter, that his men of war had
done it, without his commandement or consent.

CHAP. II.

Or THE SYNTAX OF ONE NOUN WITH ANOTHER,

Syntax appertained!, both to words of number,
and without number, where the want and super-
fluity of any part of speech are two general and
common exceptions. Of the former kind of syn-
tax is that of a noun, and verb.

The syntax of a noun, with a noun, is in num-
ber and gender ; as

Esau could not obtain his father's blessing,
though he sought it with tears.

Jezabel was a wicked woman, for she skw the
Lord's prophets.

An idol is no God, for it is made with hands.

In all these examples you see Esau and he,
Jexabel and she, idol and it, do agree in the sin-
gular number. The first example also in the
masculine gender, the second in the feminine, the
third in the neuter. And in this construction (as
also throughout the whole English syntax) order
and the placing of words is one special thing to
be observed. So that when a substantive and an
adjective are immediately joined together, the
adjective must go before ; as

320 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Plato shut poets out of his commonwealth, as
effeminate writers, unprofitable members,
and enemies to virtue.

When two substantives come together, whereof
one is the name of a possessor, the other of a thing
possessed, then hath the name of a possessor the
former place, and that in the genitive :

All man's righteousness is like a defiled cloth.

Gower, lib. 1 :

An owlflieth by night,

Out 0/ all other birds sight.

But if the thing possessed go before, then doth
the preposition of come between :

Ignorance is the mother of Error.

Gower, lib.

So that it proveth well therefore
The strength of man is sone lore.

Which preposition may be coupled with the
thing possessed, being in the genitive.

Nort. in Arsan.

A road made into Scanderbech's country by
the duke of Mysia's men : for, the men of
the duke of Mysia.

Here the absolute serveth sometimes instead of
a genitive :

All trouble is light , which is endured for right-
eousness sake ; i, e. for the sake of right-
eousness.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR, 321

Otherwise two substantives are joined together
by apposition.

Sir Thomas More, in king Richard's story :
George duke of Clarence, was a prince at all
points fortunate.

Where if both be the names of possessors, the
latter shall be in the genitive.

Fox, in the <2d volume of Acts and Monuments :
King Henry the eighth, married with the lady
Katherine his brother, prince Arthur's, wife.

The general exceptions :
The substantive is often lacking.
Sometime without small things, greater cannot stand:
\. e. greater things, &c. Sir Thomas More.

The verb is also often wanting :

Chaucer :

For some folk woll be won for riches ,
And some folk for strokes, and some folk for
gentleness :

Where woll be won once expressed, serves
for the three parts of the sentence.
Likewise the adjective :

It is hard in prosperity to preserve true religion,
true godliness, and true humility.

Lidgate, lib. 8, speaking of Constantine,
That whilome had the divination
As chief monarch^ chief prince, and chief president
Over all the world, from east to Occident*

But the more notable lack of the adjectives is
the want b of the relative ;

b In Greek and Latin this want were barbarous : the He-
brews notwithstanding use it.
VOL. JX. Y

322 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

In the things which we least mistrust, the great-
est danger doth often lurk,
Gower, lib, 2 :

For thy the wise men ne demen

The things after that there they semen ;

But, after that, which they know, andjind.

Psal. 118, 22. The stone the builders refused: for,
which the builders refused.

And here, besides the common wanting of a
substantive, whereof we spake before : there is
another more special, and proper to the absolute,
and the genitive.

Chaucer, in the 3d book of Fame.
This is the mother oj tidings.
As the sea is mother of wells, and is mother of
springs.

Rebecca clothed Jacob with garments of his
brothers.

Superfluity also of nouns is much used :

Sir Thomas More : Whose death king Edward
(although he commanded it) when he wist it
was done, pitiously bewailed it, and sorrow-
fully repented it.

Chaucer, in his Prologue to the Man of Law's

Tale:

Such law, as a man ytveth another wight,
He should himself usen it by right.
Gower, lib. 1 :

For, ivhcso woll another blame,
He seeketh oft his own shame.

Special exceptions, and first of number. Two
singulars are put for one plural :

All authority and custom of men, exalted

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 3*3

against the word of God, must yield themselves
prisoners.
Gower:

In thine aspect are all alich,

'The poor man, and eke the rich.

The second person plural is for reverence
sake to one singular thing :

Gower, lib. 1 :

0 good father dear,

Why make ye this heavy chear.

Where also after a verb plural, the singular of
the noun is retained :

/ know you are a discreeland faithful man, and
therefore am come to ask your advice.

Exceptions of Genders.

The articles he and it, are used in each other's
gender.

Sir Thomas More : The south wind sometime
swelleth of himself before a tempest.

Gower, of the Earth:

And for thy men it delve, and dtch,
And earen it, with strength of plough :
Where it hath of himself enough)
So that his need is least.

It also followeth for the feminine : Gower, lib, 4 :
He swore it should nought be let,
That, if she have a daughter bore,
That it ne should beforlore.

Y2

9.84 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

CHAP. III.
OF THB SYNTAX OF A PRONOUN WITH A NOUN.

THE articles a and the are joined to substantives
common, never to proper names of men.

William Lambert in the Perambulation of Kent:
The cause only, and not the death maketh a martyr.

Yet, with a proper name used by a metaphor,
or borrowed manner of speech, both articles may
be coupled :

Who so avoucheth the manifest and known truth,
ought not therefore to be called a Goliah, that is
a monster, and impudent fellow, as he was.

Jewel against Harding:

Ton have adventured your self to be the noble David
to conquer this giant.

Nort. in Arsan.

And if ever it was necessary, now it zs, when many
an Athanasius, many an Atticus, many a
noble prince, and godly personage lieth pros-
trate at your feet for succour.

Where this metaphor is expounded. So, when
the proper name is used to note one's parentage,
which kind of nouns the grammarians call patro-
nymics:

Nort.inGabrieFsOration to Scanderbech :
For you know well enough the wiles of the Ot-
tomans.

Perkm Warbeck, a stranger born, feigned himself
to be a Plantagcnet.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 325

When a substantive and an adjective are joined
together, these articles are put before the adjec-
tive:

A. good conscience is a continual J "east.
Gower, lib. ].

For false semblani hath evermore
Of his counsel in company,
The dark untrue hypocrisy.

Which construction in the article «, notwith-
standing, some adjectives will not admit:

Sir Tho. More ;

Such a serpent is ambition^ and desire of vain-
glory.

Chaucer :

Under a shepherd false , and negligent,

The wolf hath many a sheep and lamb to rent.

Moreover both these articles are joined to any
cases of the Latins, the vocativeonly excepted; as,
A man saith. The strength of a. man.
I sent to a man. I hurt a. man.
/ was sued by a man.

Likewise, The apostle testifiith : the zeal of the
apostle : give ear to the apostle : follow the apostle :
depart not from the apostle,

So that in these two pronouns, the whole con-
struction almost of the Latins is contained. Th*
agreeth to any number ; a only to the singular,
save when it is joined with those adjectives which
do of necessity require a plural :

The conscience is a thousand witnesses.

Lidgate, lib. 1 :

Though for a season they sit in high chears,
Their fame shall fade within a few years.

A, goeth before words beginning with conso-

326 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

nants ; and before all vowels (diphthongs, whose
first letter is y or w9 excepted) it is turned into an:

Sir Thomas More :

For men use to write an evil turn in marble stone ;

but a good turn they wrile in the dust.
Gower, lib. 1 :

For all shall die ; and all shall pass

As well a lion as an ass.

So may it be also before h.

Sir Thomas More :

What mischief worketh the proud enter prize of an
high heart ?

A hath also the force of governing before a
noun :

Sir Thomas More :

And the protecter had layd to her for manner
sake, that she was a council with the lord
Hastings to destroy him.
Chaucer, 2d book of Troilus :

And on his way fast homeward he sped,
And Troilus he found alone in bed.

Likewise before the participle present, #, an
have the force of a gerund.

Nort. in Arsan.

But there is some great tempest a brewing towards
us.

Lidgate, lib. 7 :

The king was slain, and ye did assent^
In a forest an hunting, when that he went.

The article the, joined with the adjective of a
noun proper, may follow after the substantive :

Chaucer.— There chanticleer the fair

Was wont, and eke his wives to repair.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. S27

Otherwise it varieth from the common rule.
Again, this article by a synecdoche doth restrain
a general, and common name to some certain and
special one :

Gower, in his Prologue :

The Apostle writeth unto us all.
And saith) that upon us is foil
TK end of the world :

for Paul. So by the philosopher, Aristotle; by
the poet, among the Grecians, Homer; with the
Latins, Virgil^ is understood.

This and that being demonstratives ; and -what
the interrogative, are taken for substantives :

Sir John Cheek, in his Oration to the Rebels:
Te rise for religion : what religion taught you
that?

Chaucer, in the Reve's Tale :

And this is very sooth, as I you tell.

Ascham, in his discourse of the affairs of Ger-
many:

A wonderful folly in a great man himself, and
some piece of misery in a whole commonwealth,
where fools chiefly and flatter ersy may speak
freely what they will ; and good men shall

commonly be shent, if they speak what they

should.

What) also for an adverb of partition :*

Lambert :

But now, in our memory, what by the decay of
the haven, and what by overthrow of religious
houses^ and loss of Calice, it is brought in a
manner to miserable nakedness and decay.

c In the other tongues, quid, ri, ha?e not the force of parti-
o n, nor illud, IxeTvo, of a relative.

328 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Chaucer, 3d book of Troilus:

Then wot I well, she might never fail.
For to been holpen, what at your instance,
What at your other friends governance.

That is used for a relative :

Sir John Cheek :

Sedition is an aposteam, which, when it breaketh
inwardly, pulteth the slate in great danger of
recovery; and corrupteth the whole common-
wealth with the rotten fury, that it hath pu-
trified with. For, with which.

They, and those, are sometimes taken, as it
were, for articles :

Fox, 2d volume of Acts, &c.

That no kind of disquietness should be procured

against them of Bern and Zurick.
Gower, lib. 2 :

My brother hath us all sold

To them of Rome.

The pronoun, these, hath a rare use, being taken
for an adjective of similitude: It is neither the
part of an honest man to tell these tales; nor of a
wise man to receive them.

Lidgate, lib. 5 :

Lo, how these princes proud and retchless,
Have shameful ends, which cannot live in peace.

Him, and them, be used reciprocally for the
compounds, himself, themselves.

A

Fox : The garrison desired that they might depart
mth bag and baggage.

Chaucer, in the Squire's Tale :
So deep in grain he dyed his colours,
Right as a serpent hideth him under flowers.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 329

His, their, and theirs, have also a strange use ;
that is to say, being possessives, they serve in-
stead of primitives :

Chaucer :

- And shortly so far forth this thing went.
That my will was his will's instrument.

Which in Latin were a solecism : for there
we should not say, sua voluntatis, but voluntatis
ipsius.

Pronouns have not the articles, a and the going
before ; the relatives, which, self, and same only
excepted : The same lewd cancred carle, practiseth
nothing, but how he may overcome and oppress the
faith of Christ, for the which, you, as you know,
have determined to labour and travel continually.

The possessives, my, thy, our, your, and their, go
before words ; as my land, thy goods ; and so in
the rest : mine, thine, ours, yours, hers, and theirs,
follow as it were in the genitive case ; as, these
lands are mine, thine, Sec.

His doth infinitely go before, or follow after:
as, his house is a fair one; and, this house is his.

CHAP. IV.

OF THE STNTAX OP ADJECTIVES.

Adjectives of quality are coupled with pronouns
accusative cases.

Chaucer :

And he was wise, hardy, secret, and rich,
Of these three points, nas none himlych.

330 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Certain adjectives include a partition : From the
head doth life and mot ion flow to the rest of the members.

The comparative agreeth to the parts com-
pared, by adding this preposition, than:d

Chaucer, 3d book of Fame :
What did /his jEolus, but he
Took out his black trump of brass.
That blacker than the divel was.

The superlative is joined to the parts compared
by this preposition of.

Gower, lib. 1 :

Pride is of every miss the prick:

Pride is the most vice of all wick.
Jewel :

The friendship of truth is best of all.

Oftentimes both degrees are expressed by
these two adverbs, more, and most: as more excel-
lent, most excellent. Whereof the latter seemeth to
have his proper place in those that are spoken
in a certain kind of excellency, but yet without
comparison : Hector was a most valiant man ; that
is, inter fortissimo s.

Furthermore, these adverbs, more and most, are
added to the comparative and superlative degrees
themselves, which should be before the positive :

Sir Thomas More :

Forasmuch as she saw the cardinal more readier
to depart than the remnant ; for not only the
high dignity of the civil magistrate, but the
most basest handicrafts are holy, when they
are directed to the honour of God.

* The Latins comparative governeth an ablative ; their su-
perlative a genitive plural. The Greeks both comparative and
superlative hath a genitive; but in neither tongue is a sign going
between.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 331

And this is a certain kind of English atticism,
or eloquent phrase of speech, imitating the man-
ner of the most ancientest and finest Grecians,
who, for more emphasis and vehemencies sake,
used so to speak.

Positives are also joined with the preposition
of, like the superlative :

Elias was the only man of all the prophets that

was left alive.
Gower, lib. 4 :

The Jirst point of sloth I call
Lachesse, and is the chief of all.

CHAP. V.

OF THE SYNTAX or A VERB WITH A NOUN.

Hitherto we have declared the syntax of a noun :
the syntax of a verb followeth, being either of a
verb with a noun, or of one verb with another.

The syntax of a verb with a noun is in number
and person ; as

/ am content. Ton are mis-informed.

Chaucer's 2d book of Fame :
For, as flame is but lighted smoke;
Right so is sound ayry broke.

I myself^ and ourselves, agree unto thefirst^r-
son:you,thou, it, thyself, yourselves, the second: all
other nouns and pronouns (that are of any person)
to the third. Again, /, we, thou, he, she, they, who,
do ever govern ; unless it be in the verb am, that
requircth the like case after it as is before it,

332 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

me, us, thee, her, them, him, whom, are governed of
the verb. The rest, which are absolute, may ei-
ther govern, or be governed.

A verb impersonal in Latin is here expressed by
an English impersonal, with this article it going
before ; as oportet, it behoveth ; decet, it becometh.
General exceptions :

The person governing is oft understood by that
went before: True religion glorifieth them that honour
it ; and is d target unto them that are a buckler unto it.

Chaucer :

Womens counsels brought usjirst to woe,
And made Adarn/rcw Paradise to go.

But this is more notable, and also more common
in the future; wherein for the most part we never
express any person, not so much as at the first :
Fear God) honour the king.

Likewise the verb is understood by some other
going before :

JJort. in Arsan.

When the danger is most great, natural strength
most feeble, and divine aid most needful.

Certain pronouns, governed of the verb, do here
abound.

Sir Thomas More:

And this I ^f although they were not abused,

as now they be, and so long have been, that I

fear me ever they will be.
Chaucer, 3d book of Fame :

And as I wondred me,ywis

Upon this house.
Idem in Thisbe :

She rist her up with a full dreary heart :

And in cave with dreadful fate she start.

Special exceptions,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 333

Nouns signifying a multitude, though they be
of the singular number, require a verb plural.

Lidgate, lib. 2 :

And wise men rehearsen in sentence

Where folk be drunken, there is no resistance.

This exception is in other nouns also very
common ; especially when the verb is joined to
an adverb or conjunction: // is preposterous to
execute a man, before he have been condemned.

Gawer, lib. 1 :

Although a man be wise himselve^

Yet is the wisdom more of twelve.
Chaucer :

Therefore I read you this counsel take,

Forsake sin, ere sin you forsake.

In this exception of number, the verb sometime
agreeth not with the governing noun of the
plural number 9 as it should, but with the noun
governed : as Riches is a thing oft-times more hurtful
than profitable to the owners. After which manner
the Latins also speak : Omnia pontus erat. The
other special exception is not in use.e

CHAP. VL

OF THE SYNTAX OF A VERB WITH A VERB.

WHEN two verbs meet together, whereof one is
governed by the other, the latter is put in the

* Which notwithstanding the Hebrews use vary strangely :
Kullain tazubu ulouna, J*b. 17, 10. All the/ return ye and
come now.

334 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

infinite, and that with this sign to, coming be-
tween ; as, Good mm ought to join together in good
things.

But will, doy may, can, shall, dare, (when it is
in transitive) must and let, when it signifies a suf-
ferance, receive not the sign.

Gower: To God no man may be fellow.
This sign set before an infinite, not governed
of a verb, changeth it into the nature of a noun.
Nort. in Arsan.

To win is the benefit 0/ for tune: but to keep is

the power of wisdom.
General exceptions,
The verb governing is understood :
Nort. in Arsan :

For if the head, which is the life and stay of the

body, betray the members, must not the members

also needs betray one another ; and so the

whole body and head go altogether to utter

wreck and destruction ?

The other general exception is wanting/

The special exception. Two verbs, have and

am, require always a participle past without any

sign: as /am pleased; thou art hated. Save when

they import a necessity or conveniency of doing

any thing : in which case they are very eloquently

joined to the infinite,* the sign coming between :

By the example of Herod, all princes are to take
heed how they give ear to flatterers.

f So in the Greek and Latin, but in Hebrew this exception
it often, Esai. ?i. 9; which Hebraism the New Testament is wont
to retain by turning the Hebrew infinite either into a verbal,
axojf ctxoucrele, Matth. xiii. 14 ; or participle, ftwv gTSov, Act» ?ii.
34.'

• A phrase proper unto our tongue, save that the Hebrews
seem to have the former. Job. xx.23. When he is to Jill his bdty.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 335

Lidgate, lib. 1 :

Truth and falseness in what they haveV0«<?,
May no while assemble in one person.

And here those times, which in etymology we
remembered to be wanting, are set forth by the
syntax of verbs joined together. The syntax of
imperfect times in this manner.

The presents by the infinite, and the verb, may,
or can; as for amem, amarem; I may love, /might
lore. And again; /can love, /could love.

The futures are declared by the infinite, and
the verb shall, or will; as amabo, I shall or will
love.

Amavero addeth thereunto have, taking the
nature of two divers times; that is, of the future
and the lime past.

I shall have loved: or
I will have loved.

The perfect times are expressed by the verb
have; as

amavi, amaveram.
/have loved, /had loved.

Amaverim, and amavissem add might unto the
former verb ; as

/ might have loved.
The infinite past, is also made by adding have; as

amavisse, to have loved.

Verbs passive are made of the participle past,
and am the verb; amor and amabar, by the only
putting to of the verb ; as
amor, I am lovtd;
amabar, I was /0*Y*/.

^mer, and amarer have it governed of the verb
may or can ; as

, / may be loved; or / can be loved.
) I might be loved, or / could be loved.

336 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

In amabor it is governed of shall, or will; as
I shall, or *ft//*be loved.

CHAP. VII.
OF THE SYNTAX OF ADVERBS.

THIS therefore is the syntax of words, having
number ; there remaineth that of words without
number, which standeth in adverbs or conjunctions.
Adverbs are taken one for the other ; that is to
say, adverbs of likeness, for adverbs of time ; As he
spake those words, he gave up the ghost.

Gower, lib. 1 :

Anone, as he was meek and tame,
He found towards his God the same.

The like is to be seen in adverbs of time and
place, used in each others stead, as among the
Latins and the Grecians.

Nort. in Arsan.

Let us not be ashamed to follow the counsel and ex-
ample of our enemies, where it may do us good.

Adverbs stand instead of relatives :

Lid gate, lib. 1 :

And liltle worth is fairness in certain
In a person, where no virtue is seen.
Nort. to the northern rebels :

Few women storm against the marriage of priests,
but such as have been priests harlots, or fain
would be.

Chaucer in his ballad :
But great God disposeth,

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 337

And maketh casual by his providence
Such things as frail man purposeth. For those
things, which.

Certain adverbs in the syntax of a substantive
and an adjective meeting together, cause a, the
article, to follow the adjective.

Sir John Cheek :

0 ! with what spite was sundred so noble a body

from so godly a mind.
Jewel :

// is too light a labour to strive for names.
Chaucer :

Thou art at ease, and hold thee wel therein.

As great a praise is to keep well, as win.

Adjectives compared,11 when they are used ad-
verbially, may have the article the going before.

Jewel :

The more inlarged is your liberty; the less
cause have you to complain.

Adverbs are wanting.

Sjr Thomas More :

And how far be they off that would help, as God
send grace, they hurt not; for, that they hurt
not.

Oftentimes they are used without any neces-
sity, for greater vehemency sake ; as, then, after-
ward, again, once more.

Gower : He saw also the bowes spread
Above all earth, in which were
The kind of all birds there.

h The Greek article is set before the positive also : Theocrit.
1*5. y. TiVug', £fuv TO xa^ov «r£<p»Aajw,ev>j.
VOL, IX. Z

338 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Prepositions are joined with the accusative cases
of pronouns. l

Sir Thomas More :

I exhort and require you , for the love that yon
have born to me, and for the lore that I have
born to you, and for the love that our Lord
beareth to us all.

Gower, lib. 1 :

For Lucifer, with them that fell.
Bare pride with him into hell.

They may also be coupled with the possessives :
mine, thine, ours.yours, his, tiers, theirs.

Nort. to the rebels :

Think you her majesty, and the wisest of the
realm, have no care of their own souls, that
have charge both of their own and yours ?

These prepositions folio wk sometimes the nouns
they are coupled with : God hath made princes their
subjects guides, to direct them in the way, which they
have to walk in.

But ward, or wards ; and toward, or towards,
have the same syntax that versus and adversus have
with the Latins ; that is, the latter coming after
t-he noun, which it governeth, and the other
contrarily.

Nort. in Paul Angel's Oration to Scanderbech :
For his heart being unclean to G0*/ward, and
spiteful, towards men, doth always imagine
mischief.

'' In Greek and Latin they are coupJed ; some with one ob-
lique ease, some with another.

k The Hebrews set them always before.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 539

Lidgate, lib. 7 :

And south- ward runneth to Caucasus,
And folk of Scy thie, that bene laborious.

Now as before in two articles a and the, the
whole construction of the Latins was contained ;
so their whole rection is by prepositions near-hand
declared : where the preposition of hath the
force of the genitive, to of the dative ; from, of,
in, by\ and such like of the ablative : as, the praise
of God Be thankful to God. Take the cock of the hoop.
I was saved from you, by you, in your house*

Prepositions matched with the participle present,1
supply the place of gerunds ; as in loving, of loving,
by loving, with loving, from loving, &c.

Prepositions do also govern adverbs.m

Lidgate, lib. 9 :

Sent from above, as she did understand.

General exceptions : divers prepositions are
very often wanting, whereof it shall be sufficient
to give a taste in those, that above the rest are
most worthy to be noted.

Of, in an adjective of partition :

Lidgate, lib. 5 :

His lieges eche one being of one assent
To live and die with him in his intent.

The preposition touching, concerning, or Some
such like, doth often want, after the manner of
the Hebrew Lamed :

1 The like nature in Greek and Hebrew have prepositions
matched with the infinite, as Iv TOO aya-Trav.

m This in Hebrew is very common : from now, that is, from
this time; whence proceed those Hebraisms in the JVew Testament
otiro TOTS, faro TOU voy, &Ct

Z2

340 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Gower :

The privates of man's heart.
They speaken, and sound in his ear.
As though they loud winds were.

Riches and inheritance they be given by God's provi*
dence^ to whom of his wisdom he thinketh good : for
touching riches and heritance, or some such like
preposition.

If) is somewhat strangely lacking :

Nort. in Arsan.

Unwise are they that end their matters wilh, Had
I wist.

Lidgate* lib. 1 :

For ne were not this prudent ordinance.
Some to obey, and above to gye
Destroyed were all worldly policy.

The superfluity of prepositions is more rare:

Jewel ;

The whole university and city of Oxford.
Gower :

So that my lord touchend of this,

I have answered, how that it is.

€HAP. VIII.
OF THE SYNTAX OF CONJUNCTIONS.

The syntax of conjunctiens is in order only ; nei-
ther and either are placed in the beginning of
words ; uor and or coming after.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. S41

Sir Thomas More :

He can be no sanctuary -man, that hath neither
discretion to desire it, nor malice to deserve if.

Sir John Cheek :

Either by ambition you seek lordliness, much

unfit fot you; or by covetousness, ye be un-

satiable, a thing likely enough in you, or else

by folly, ye be not content with your estate , a

fancy to be pluckt out of you.

Lid gate, lib. 2 :

Wrong, clyming up of states and degrees ,
Either b^ murder •, or by false treasons
Asketh a Jail, for their final guerdons*.

Here, for nor in the latter member, ne is some-
times used :
Lambert :

But the archbishop set himself against it, affirm-
ing plainly, that he neither could, ne would
suffer it.

The like syntax is also to be marked in so, and
as, used comparatively; for, when the comparison
is in quantity, then so goeth before, and as fol-
loweth.
Ascham :

He hateth himself \ and hasteth his own hurt, that
is content to hear none so gladly •, as. either a
fool or a flatterer*

Gower, lib. 1 :
Men wist in thilk time none
So fair a wight, as she was one,

Sometime for so, as cometh in.

Chaucer, lib. 5. Troil.

And said, lam, albeit to you no joy ,
As gentle a man, as any wight in Troy,

342 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

But if the comparison be in quality , then it is
contrary.
Gower :

For, as the fish, if it be dry

Mote in default of water dye :

Right so without air, or lire,

JV*o man, ne beast, rni^ht thrive.

And, in the beginning of a sentence, serveth
instead of an admiration : And, what a notable sign
of patience was it in Job, not to murmur against the
Lord!

Chaucer, 3d book of Fame:

What, quoth she, and be ye wood.'
And, wene ye for to do good,
And,jfor to have of that no fame'

Conjunctions of divers sorts are taken one for
another : as, But, a severing conjunction, for a con-
ditioning:

Chaucer in the Man of Law's Tale :
But it were with the ilk eyen of his mind,
With which men seen' after they ben blind.

Sir Thomas More :

Which neither can they havet but you give it;
neither can you give it> if ye agree not.

The self- same syntax is in and, the coupling con-
junction ;

The Lord JBerners in the Preface to his Trans-
lation of Fro is art :

What knowledge should we have of ancient things
past, and history were not.

Sir John Cheek :

Te have waxed greedy now upon cities, and have
attempted mighty spoils, to glut up,
could, your wasting hunger.

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

On the other side, for, a cause-renderer, hath
sometime the force of a severing one.

Lidgate, lib. 3.

But it may fall a Drewry in his right,
To outrage a giant for all his great might.

Here the two general exceptions are termed,
Asyndeton, and Polysyndeton.

Asyndeton, when the conjunction wanteth :

The universities of Christendom are the eyes, the
lights, the leaven, the salt, the seasoning of the
world.

Gower :

To whom her heart cannot heal,
Turn it to woe, turn it to weal.
Here the sundering conjunction, or, is lacking,
and in the former example, and, the coupler.

Polysyndeton is in doubling the conjunction more
than it need to be :

Gower, lib. 4 :

So, whether that he frieze, or sweat>
Or 'tte be in, or 'He be out,
He will be idle all about.

CHAP. IX.
OF THE DISTINCTION OF SENTENCES.

ALL the parts of Syntax have already been de-
clared. There resteth one general affection of
the whole, dispersed thorough every member
thereof, as the blood is thorough the body ; and
consisteth in the breathing, when we pronounce
any sentence. For, whereas our breath is by nature

344 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

so short, that we cannot continue without a stay
to speak long together ; it was thought necesary
as well for the speaker's ease, as for the plainer
deliverance of the things spoken, to invent this
means, whereby men pausing a pretty while, the
whole speech might never the worse be under-
stood.

These distinctions, are cither of a perfect, or
imperfect sentence. The distinctions of an impfr-
fect sentence are two, a comma, and a semicolon.

A comma is a mean breathing, when the word
serveth indifferently, both to the parts of the
sentence going before, and following after, and
is marked thus (,)

A semicolon is a distinction of an imperfect sen-
tence, wherein with somewhat a longer breath,
the sentence following is included; and is noted
thus (;).

Hither pertaineth a parenthesis^ wherein two
commas include a sentence :

Jewel:

Certain falshoods (by mean of good utter-
ance) have sometimes more likely-hood of
truth) than truth itself.

Gower, lib. 1 :

Division, (the gospel saith)
One house upon another laith.

Chaucer, 8d book of Fame :
For lime, y lost (this know ye)
By no way may recovered be.

These imperfect distinctions in the syntax of
a substantive, and an adjective give the former
place to the substantive ;

THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 345

Ascham :

Thus the poor gentleman suffered grief; great
for the pain ; but greater for the spite.

Gower, lib. 2. Speaking of the envious person :
Though he a man see vertuous,
And full of good condition,
Thereof maketh he no mention.

The distinction of a perfect sentence hath a
more full stay, and doth rest the spirit, which is
a pause or a period.

A pause is a distinction of a sentence, though
perfect in itself, yet joined to another, being
marked with two pricks. (:)

A period is the distinction of a sentence, in all
respects perfect, and is marked with one full
prick over against the lower part of the last
letter, thus (.)

If a sentence be with an interrogation, we use
this note (?)

Sir John Cheek :

Who can'perswade^ where treason is above reason ;
and might ruleth right ; and it is had for lawful,
whatsoever is lustful; and commotioners are
better than commissioners ; and common woe
is named commonwealth ?

Chaucer, 2d book of Fame :

Loe, is it not a great mischance ,

To let a fool have governance

Of things, that he cannot demain ?
Lidgate, lib. 1 :

For, if wives be found variable^

Where shall husbands find other stable ?

If it be pronounced with an admiration, then
thus (!)

346 THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

Sir Thomas More:

0 Lord God, the blindness of our mortal nature!
Chaucer, 1st book of Fame :

Alas ! what harm doth apparence,

When it is false in exist tnce !

These distinctions, as they best agree with
nature, so come they nearest to the ancient stays
of sentences among theRomansand the Grecians.
An example of all four, to make the matter plain,
let us take out of that excellent oration of Sir
John Cheek against the rebels, whereof before

have made so often mention:

When common order of the law can take no place
in unruly and disobedient subjects ; and all men
will of wilfulness resist with rage, and think
their own violence to be the best justice : then
be wise magistrates compelled by necessity to
seek an extreme remedy ', where mean salves help
not, and bring in the martial law where n&ne
other law servcth.

THE END.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS:

OR, THE MEMORY OF

BEN JONSON.
REVIVED BY THE FRIENDS OF THE MUSES,

MPCXXXVIII.

THE

PRINTER TO THE READER.

It is now about six months * since the most learned and
judicious poet, B, JONSON, became a subject for these
Elegies, The time interjected between his death and the
publishing of these, shews that so great an argument ought
to be considered, before handled ; not that the Gentlemen's
affections were less ready to grieve, but their judgments to
write. At length the loose papers were consigned to the
hands of a Gentleman* tvho truly honoured him (for he
knew why he did so.) To his care you are beholding that
they are n,w made yours. And he was willing tn let you
know the value of what you have lost, that you might the
better recommended what you have left of him, to your
posterity.

Farewell.

E.P.

1 It is now about six months,] Jonson died on the sixth of
August, 1637 ; the Poems must therefore have appeared about
the beginning of March 1638.

* This " gentleman," we find in Howell's Letters, was Dr.
Bryan Duppa, bishop of Winchester. Nor was the present col.
lection of tributary offerings the only praise of this excellent
man. The patron of learning when learning was proscribed,—-
for the greater part of what is beautiful and useful in the writ-
ings of Mayne, Cartwright, and many others, religion and lite-
rature are indebted to the fostering protection of doctor Bryan,
Duppa. He was born at Greenwich 10th March, 1588, admitted
of Christ Church Oxford, from Westminster School, in May
1605. After passing through various honourable situations in
the university and at court, he was successively consecrated
bishop of Chich«ster, Salisbury, and Winchester, and died at his
favourite residence at Richmond the 26th March 1663. Charles
II. visited him on his death bed, and begged his blessing on his
bended knees.

There is great pleasure in opposing these honourable and
liberal proofs of the good understanding which subsisted between
contemporary poets to the slight and imperfect premises from
which dramatic editors have laboured to deduce proofs of most
opposite and disgraceful feelings. GILCHBIST.

AN EGLOGUE
ON THE DEATH OF BEN JONSON,

BETWEEN MELIBGEUS AND HYLAS.

MELIBCEUS.

HYLAS, the clear day boasts a glorious sun,
Our troop is ready, and our time is come :
That fox who hath so long our lambs destroy'd,
And daily in his prosperous rapine joy'd,
Is earth 'd not far from hence ; old ^Egon's son,
Rough Corilas, and lusty Cory don,
In part the sport, in part revenge desire,
And both thy tarrier and thy aid require.
Haste, for by this, but that for thee we stay'd,
The prey-devourer had our prey been made :

HyL Oh ! Meliboeus, now I list not hunt,
Nor have that vigour as before I wont;
My presence will afford them no relief,
That beast I strive to chase is only grief.

Mel. What mean thy folded arms, thy down-
cast eyes,

Tears which so fast descend, and sighs which rise?
What mean thy words, which so distracted fall
As all thy joys had now one funeral ?
Cause for such grief, can our retirements yield?
That follows courts, but stoops not to the field.
Hath thy stern step-dame to thy sire reveal'd
Some youthful act, which thou couldst wish con-
ceal'd ?

352 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Part of thy herd hath some close thief convey'd
From open pastures to a darker shade ?
Part of thy flock hath some fierce torrent drown'd?
Thy harvest fail'd, or Amarillis frown'd?

Hiil. Nor love nor anger, accident nor thief,
Hath rais'd the waves of my unbounded grief:
To cure this cause, I would provoke the ire
Of my fierce step-dame or severer sire,
Give all my herds, fields, flocks, and all the grace
That ever shone in Amarillis' face.
Alas, that bard, that glorious bard is dead,
Who, when I whilom cities visited,
Hath made them seem but hours, which were

full days,

Whilst he vouchsafed me his harmonious lays :
And when he lived, I thought the country then
A torture, and no mansion, but a den.

Mel. JONSOIC you mean, unless I much do err,
I know the person by the character.

Hyl. You guess aright, it is too truly so,
From no less spring could all these rivers flow.

Mtl Ah, Hylas ! then thy grief I cannot call
A passion, when the ground is rational.
I now excuse thy tears and sighs, though those
To deluges, and these to tempests rose :
Her great instructor gone, I know the age
No less laments than doth the widow'd stage,
And only vice and folly, now are glad,
Our gods are troubled, and our prince is sad :
He chiefly who bestows light, health, and art,
Feels this sharp grief pierce his immortal heart,
He his neglected lyre away hath thrown,
And wept a larger, nobler Helicon,
To find his herbs, which to his wish prevail,
For the less love should his own favourite fail :
So moan'd himself when Daphne he ador'd,
That arts relieving all, should fail their lord.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 351

HyL But say, from whence in thee this know*

ledge springs,
Of what his favour was with gods and kings,

MeL Dorus. who long had known books, men,

and towns,

At last the honour of our woods and downs, •
Had often heard his songs, was often fir'd
With their enchanting power, ere he retir'd,
And ere himself to our still groves he brought,.
To meditate on what his muse had taught:
Here all his joy was to revolve alone,
All that her music to his soul had shown,
Or in all meetings to divert the stream
Of our discourse; and make his friend his theme,
And praising works which that rare loom hath

weav'd,

Impart that pleasure which he had receiv'd.
So in sweet notes (which did all tunes excell,
But what he praised) I oft have heard him tell
Of his rare pen, what was the use and price,
The bays of virtue and the scourge of vice :
How the rich ignorant he valued least,
Nor for the trappings would esteem the beast;
But did our youth to noble actions raise,
Hoping the meed of his immortal praise:
How bright and soon his Muse's morning shone,
Her noon how lasting, and her evening none.
How speech exceeds not dumbness, nor verse

prose,

More than his verse the low rough times of those,
(For such, his seen, they seem'd,) who highest

reard,

Possest Parnassus ere his power appeared.
Nor shall another pen his fame dissolve,
Till we this doubtful problem can resolve,
Which in his works we most transcendant see,
Wit, judgment, learning, art, or industry;

VOL. ix. A a

332 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Which till is never, so all jointly flow,
And each doth to an equal torrent grow :
His learning such, no author old nor new,
Escap'd his reading that deserved his view,
And such his judgment, so exact his test,
Of what was best in books, as what books best,
That had he join'd those notes his labours took,
From each most prais'd and praise-deserving book,
And could the world of that choice treasure

boast,

It need not care though alt the rest were lost:
And such his wit, he writ past what he quotes,
And his productions far exceed his notes.
So in his works where aught inserted grows,
The noblest of the plants engrafted shows,
That his adopted children equal not,
The generous issue his own brain begot :
So great his art, that much which he did write,
Gave the wise wonder, and the crowd delight,
Each sort as well as sex admir'd his wit,
The he's and she's, the boxes and the pit;
And who less lik'd within, did rather choose,
To tax their judgments than suspect his muse.
How no spectator his chaste stage could call
The cause of any crime of his, but all
With thoughts and wills purg'd and amended rise,
From ths ethic lectures of his comedies,
Where the spectators act, and the sham'd age
Blusheth to meet her follies on the stage;
Where each man finds some light he never sought,
And leaves behind some vanity he brought;
Whose politics no less the minds direct,
Than these the manners, nor with less effect,
When his Majestic Tragedies relate
All the disorders of a tottering state,
All the distempers which on kingdoms fall,
When ease, and wealth, and vice are general,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 353

And yet the minds against all fear assure,
And telling the disease, prescribe the cure:
Where, as he tells what subtle ways, what friends,
(Seeking their wicked and their wisb'd-for ends)
Ambitious aftd luxurious persons prove,
Whom vast desires, or mighty wants do move,
The general frame to sap and undermine,
In proud Sejanus, and bold Catiline;
So in his vigilant Prince and Consul's parts,
He shews the wiser and the nobler arts,
By which a state may be unhurt, upheld,
And all those works destroyed, which hell would

build.
Who (not like those who with small praise had

writ,

Had they not call'd in judgment to their wit)
Us'd not a tutoring hand his to direct,
But was sole workman and sole architect.
And sure by what my friend did daily tell,
If he but acted his own part as well
As he writ those of others, he may boast,
The happy fields hold not a happier ghost.
Hyl. Strangers will think this strange, yet he

(dear youth)

Where most he past belief, fell short of truth :
Say on, what more he said, this gives relief,
And though it raise my cause, it bates my grief,
Since fates decreed him now no longer liv'd,
I joy to hear him by thy friend reviv'd.

Mel. More he would say, and better, (but I

spoil

His smoother words with my unpolisrTd style)
And having told what pitch his worth attain'd,
He then would tell us what reward it gain'd :
How in an ignorant, and learn'd age he sway'd,
(Of which the first he found, the second made)

354 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

How he, when he could know it, reap'd his fame,
And long out-liv'd the envy of his name :
To him how daily flock'd, what reverence gave,
All that had wit, or would be thought to have,
Or hope to gain, and in so large a store,
That to his ashes they can pay no more,
Except those few who censuring, thought not so,
But aim'd at glory from so great a foe :
How the wise too, did with mere wits agree,
As Pembroke, Portland, and grave Aubigny ;
Nor thought the rigid'st senator a shame,
To contribute to so deserv'd a fame :
How great Eliza, the retreat of those
Who, weak and injur'd, her protection chose,
Her subject's joy, the strength of her allies,
The fear and wonder of her enemies,
With her judicious favours did infuse
Courage and strength into his younger muse.
How learned James, whose praise no end shall

find,

(But still enjoy a fame pure like his mind)
Who favoured quiet, and the arts of peace,
(Which in his halcyon days found large encrease)
Friend to the humblest if deserving swain,
Who was himself a part of Phoebus' train,
Declar'd great JONSON worthiest to receive
The garland which the Muses' hands did weave ;
And though his bounty did sustain his days,
Gave a more welcome pension in his praise.
How mighty Charles amidst that weighty care,
In which three kingdoms as their blessing share,
Whom as it tends with ever watchful eyes,*
That neither power may force, nor art surprise,
So bounded by no shore, grasps all the main,
And far as Neptune claims, extends his reign ;
Found still some time to hear and to admire,
The happy sounds of his harmonious lyre,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 355

And oft hath left his bright exalted throne,
And to his Muse's feet combin'd his own :*
As did his queen, whose person so disclos'd
A brighter nymph than any part impos'd,
When she did join, by an harmonious choice,
Her graceful motions to his powerful voice :
How above all the rest was Phoebus fired
With love of arts, which he himself inspired,
Nor oftener by his light our sense was cheer'd,
Than he in person to his sight appear'd,
Nor did he write a line but to supply,
With sacred flame the radiant god was by.

Hyl. Though none I ever heard this last re-
hearse,
I saw as much when I did see his verse.

Mel. Since he, when living, could such honours

have,

What now will piety pay to his grave ?
Shall of the rich (whose lives were low and vile,
And scarce deserv'd a grave, much less a pile)
The monuments possess an ample room,
And such a wonder lie without a tomb ?
Raise thou him one in verse, and there relate
His worth, thy grief, and our deplored state;
His great perfections our great loss recite,
And let them merely weep who cannot write.

Hyl. I like thy saying, but oppose thy choice ;
So great a task as this requires a voice
Which must be heard, and listened to, by all,
And Fame's own trumpet but appears too small,
Then for my slender reed to sound his name,
Would more my folly than his praise proclaim,
And when you wish my weakness, sing his worth,
You charge a mouse to bring a mountain forth.
I am by nature form'd, by woes made, dull,
My head is emptier than my heart is full ;

* In his Masques. Old Copy.

356 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Grief doth my brain impair, as tears supply,
Which makes my face so moist, my pea so dry.
Nor should this work proceed from woods and

downs,

But from the academies, courts, and towns ;
Let Digby, Carew, Killigrew, and Maine,
Godolphin, Waller, thjt inspired train,
Or whose rare pen beside deserves the grace,
Or of an equal, or a neighbouring place,
Answer thy wish, for none so fit appears,
To raise hks tomb, as who are left his heirs :
Yet for this cause no labour need be spent,
Writing his works, he built his monument.
Mel If to obey in this, thy pen be loth,
It will not seem thy weakness, but thy sloth :
Our towns prest by our foes invading might,
Our ancient druids and young virgins fight,
Employing feeble limbs to the best use ;
So JONSON dead, no pen should plead excuse.
For Elegies, howl all who cannot sing,
For tombs bring turf, who cannot marble bring,
Let all their forces mix, join verse to rhyme,
To save his fame from that invader, Time ;
Whose power, though his alone may well restrain,
Yet to so wish'd an end, no care is vain ;
And time, like what our brooks act in our sight,
Oft sinks the weighty, and upholds the light.
Besides, to this, thy pains I strive to move
Less to express his glory than thy love :
Not long before his death, our woods he meant
To visit, and descend from Thames to Trent,
Mete with thy elegy his pastoral,
And rise as much as he vouchsafed to fall.
Suppose it chance no other pen do join
In this attempt, and the whole work be thine? —
When the fierce fire the rash boy kindled, reign'd,
The whole world suffer'd ; earth alone complained.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Suppose that many more intend the same,
More taught by art, and better known to fame?
To that great deluge which so far destroy 'd,
The earth her springs, as heaven his showers

employ'd.

So may who highest marks of honour wears,
Admit mean partners in this flood of teafs;
So oft the humblest join with loftiest things,
Nor only princes weep the fate of kings.

Hyl. I yield, I yield, thy words my thoughts

have fired,

And I am less persuaded than inspired ;
Speech shall give sorrow vent, and that relief,
The woods shall echo all the city's grief:
I oft have verse on meaner subjects made,
Should I give presents and leave debts unpaid?
Want of invention here is no excuse,
My matter I shall find, and not produce,
And (as it fares in crowds) I only doubt,
So much would pass, that nothing will get out,
Else in this work which now my thoughts intend
I shall find nothing hard, but how to end :
I then but ask fit time to smooth my lays>
(And imitate in this the pen I praise)
Which by the subject's power embalm'd, may last,
Whilst the sun light, the earth doth-shadows cast,
And, feather'd by those wings, fly among men,
Far as the fame of poetry and BEN.

FALKLAND.*

* With the success usually attendant upon his endeavours
to philosophize, Horace Walpole has laboured to depreciate the
character of this amiable and high-spirited man, who joined with
the popular party in resisting royalty, till he discovered that
their aims were directed not against the encroachments of pre-
rogative, but against the crown itself. He then took up arms
for the king and bravely fell at the fatal battle of Newbury the
20th September, 1643. GILCHIUST. See p. 6. of this volume.

358 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

TO THE MEMORY OF

BENJAMIN JONSON.

IF Romulus did promise in the fight,
To Jove the Stator, if he held from flight
His men, a temple, and performed his vow :
Why should not we, learn'd JONSON, thee allow
An altar at the least ? since by thy aid,
Learning, that would have left us, has heen stay'd.
The actions were different : that thing
Requir'd some mark to keep't from perishing ;
But letters must be quite defaced, before
Thy memory, whose care did them restore.

BUCKHURST.3

TO THE MEMORY OF
HIM WHO CAN NEVER BE FORGOTTEN,

MASTER BENJAMIN JONSON.

HAD this been for some meaner poet's herse,
I might have then observ'd the laws of verse i
But here they fail, nor can I hope to express
In numbers, what the world grants numberless;

3 Richard Sackville lord Buckhurst, son of Edward earl of
Dorset,, by Mary, daughter and heir of sir George Cursdii of
Croxall in Derbyshire, married Frances daughter and heir to
Lionel earl of Middlesex, by whom he had three sons and three
daughters. He succeeded his father as earl of Dorset in 1652,
and dying in 1677 was succeeded by his son Charles the poet.

GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 359

Such are the truths, we ought to speak of thee,

Thou great refiner of our poesy,

Who turn'st to gold that which before was lead ;

Then with that pure elixir rais'd the dead !

Nine sisters who (for all the poets lies)

Had been deem'd mortal, did not JONSON rise

And with celestial sparks (not stoln) revive

Those who could erst keep winged fame alive :

'Twas he that found (plac'd) in the seat of wit,

Dull grinning ignorance, and banish'd it;

He on the prostituted stage appears

To make men hear, not by their eyes, but ears ;

Who painted virtues, that each one might know,

And point the man, that did such treasure owe :

So that who could in JONSON'S lines be high

Needed not honours, or a riband buy ;

But vice he only shewed us in a glass,

Which by reflection of those rays that pass,

Retains the figure lively, set before,

And that withdrawn, reflects at us no more;

So, he observ'd the like decorum, when

He whi'pt the vices, and yet spar'd the men :

When heretofore, the Vice's only note,

And sign from virtue was his party-coat;

When devils were the last men on the stage,

And pray'd for plenty, and the present age.

Nor was our English language, only bound
To thank him, for he Latin Horace found
(Who so inspired Rome, with his lyric song)
Translated in the macaronic tongue ;
Cloth'd in such rags, as one might safely vow,
That his Maecenas would not own him now :
On him he took this pity, as to clothe
In words, and such expression, as for both,
There's none but judgeth the exchange will come
To twenty more, than when he sold at Rome.

360 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Since then, he made our language pure and good,
And us to speak, but what we understood,
We owe this praise to him, that should we join
To pay him, he were paid but with the coin
Himself hath minted, which we know by this,
That no words pass for current now, but his.
And though he in a blinder age could change
Faults to perfections, yet 'twas far more strange
To see (however times, and fashions frame)
His wit and language still remain the same
In all men's mouths ; grave preachers did it use
As golden pills, by which they might infuse
Their heavenly physic ; ministers of state
Their grave dispatches in his language wrate ;
Ladies made curt'sies in them, courtiers, legs,
Physicians bills; — perhaps, some pedant begs
He may not use it, for he hears 'tis such,
As in few words a man may utter much.
Could I have spoken in his language too,
I had not said so much, as now I do,
To whose clear memory I this tribute send,
Who dead 's my Wonder, living was my Friend.

JOHN BEAUMONT, Bart.4

4 The family of Beaumont boasts a royal descent ; there is
a letter of king John's to one of the Beaumonts, preserved in
Rymer's Fcedera, acknowledging the consanguinity. The ba-
ronet before us was the eldest son of the author of " Bosworth
field," and other poems : he was born at Grace-dieu in Leices-
tershire in 16*07. In the rebellion, which followed hard upon
the composition of this poem, sir John Beaumont took up arms,
obtained a colonel's commission, and was slain at the siege of
Gloucester, 1644. GILCHRIST.

' M.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

361

TO THE MEMORY OF

MASTER BENJAMIN JONSON.

To press into the throng, where wits thus strive
To inake thy laurels fading tombs survive,
Argues thy worth, their love, my bold desire,
Somewhat to sing, though but to fill the quire:
But (truth to speak) what muse can silent be,
Or little say, that hath for subject, thee?
Whose poems such, that as the sphere of fire,
They warm insensibly, and force inspire,
Knowledge, and wit infuse, mute tongues unloose,
And ways not track'd to write, and speak dis-
close.

But when thou put'st thy tragic buskin on,
Or comic sock of mirthful action,
Actors, as if inspired from thy hand,
Speak, beyond what they think, less, understand ;
And thirsty hearers, wonder-stricken, say,
Thy words make that a truth, was meant a play.
Folly, and brain-sick humours of the time,
Distemper'd passion, and audacious crime,
Thy pen so on the stage doth personate,
That ere men scarce begin to know, they hate
The vice presented, and there lessons learn,
Virtue, from vicious habits to discern.
Oft have I seen thee in a sprightly strain,
To lash a vice, and yet no one complain ;
Thou threw'st the ink of malice from thy pen,
Whose aim was evil manners, not ill men.
Let then frail parts repose, where solemn care
Of pious friends their Pyramids prepare ;

362 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

And take thou, BEN, from Verse a second breath,
Which shall create Thee new, and conquer death.

Sir THOMAS HAWKINS.*

TO THE MEMORY OF

MY FRIEND, BEN JONSON.

I SEE that wreath which doth the wearer arm
'Gainst the quick strokes of thunder, is no charm
To keep off death's pale dart ; for, JONSON, then
Thou hadst been number'd still with living men:
Time's scythe had fear'd thy laurel to invade,
Nor thee this subject of our sorrow made.
Amongst those many votaries that come
To offer up their garlands at thy tomb,

5-'Sir Thomas Hawkins, Knt. was the grandson of Thomas
Hawkins, Esq.— of a family resident at the manor of Nash in the
parish of Boughton under the Blean in Kent from the time of
Edward III. — who attained the age of 101 years and died on the
15th March 1588, and lies buried in the north chancel of the
church of Boughton, under a tomb of marble which bears ho-
nourable testimony to his services to king Henry VIII, and
speaks of him as a man of great strength and lofty stature.

The friend of Jonson was the eldest of seven sons of sir
Thomas Hawkins of Nash, and married Elizabeth daughter of
George Smith of Ashby Folvile in Leicestershire, by whom he
had two sons, John and Thomas, both of whom he survived,
and dying without issue in 1640, was succeeded in a consider-
able patrimony by Richard his brother and heir, the lineal de-
scendant of whom, Thomas Hawkins, Esq. was living at Nash
in 1790.

Sir Thomas translated Caussin's Holy Court, several times
reprinted in folio ; the Histories of Sejanus and Philippa, from
the French of P. Mathieu ; and certain Odes of Horace, the
4th edition of which is before me, dated 1638. In a poem before
the latter he is celebrated by H. Holland, for his skill in music.

GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

863

Whilst some more lofty pens in their bright verse,
(Like glorious tapers flaming on thy herse)
Shall light the dull and thankless world to see,
How great a maim it suiters, wanting thee ;
Let not thy learned shadow scorn, that I
Pay meaner rites unto thy memory :
And since I nought can add but in desire,
Restore some sparks which leap'd from thine
own fire.

What ends soever other quills invite,
I can protest, it was no itch to write,
Nor any vain ambition to be read,
But merely love and justice to the dead,
Which rais'd my fameless muse; and caus'd her

bring

These drops, as tribute thrown into that spring,
To whose most rich and fruitful head we owe
The purest streams of language which can flow.
For 'tis but truth; thou taught'st the ruder age,
To speak by grammar ; and reform'dst the stage;
Thy comic sock induc'd such purged sense,
A Lucrece might have heard without offence.
Amongst those soaring wits that did dilate
Our English, and advance it to the rate
And value it now holds, thyself was one
Help'd lift it up to such proportion,
That, thus refined and robed, it shall not spare
With the full Greek or Latin to compare.
For what tongue ever durst, but ours, translate
Great Tully's eloquence, or Homer's state ?
Both which in their unblemish'd lustre shine,
From Chapman's pen, and from thy Catiline,

All I would ask for thee, in recompense
Of thy successful toil and time's expense
Is only this poor boon ; that those who can,
Perhaps, read French, or talk Italian ;

364 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Or do the lofty Spaniard affect,
(To shew their skill in foreign dialect)
Prove not themselves so' unnaturally wise
They therefore should their mother-tongue des-
pise;

(As if her poets both for style and wit,
Not equall'd, or not pass'd their best that writ)
Until by studying JONSON they have known
The heighth, and strength, and plenty of their

own.

Thus in what low earth, or neglected room
Soe'er thou sleep'st, thy BOOK shall be thy tomb.
Thou wilt go down a happy corse, bestrew'd
With thine own flowers, and feel thyself renew'd,
Whilst thy immortal, never-withering bays
Shall yearly flourish in thy reader's praise:
And when more spreading titles are forgot,
Or, spite of all their lead and sear-cloth, rot;
Thou wrapt and shrin'd in thine own sheets wilt

lie,
A Relic fam'd by all posterity.

HENRY KING.*

6 Henry King, eldest son of Dr. John King, bishop of London,
was born at Wornal in Buckinghamshire in January 1592* He
was educated first at Thame, afterwards at Westminster, and
lastly at Christ Church Oxford, where he was entered in 1608.
He was successively chaplain to James the first, archdeacon of
Colchester, residentiary of St. Paul's, chaplain in ordinary to
Charles the first, dean of Rochester, and lastly bishop of Chi.
Chester, in which place he died 1st October, 1669, and was
buried in the Cathedral. The writings of bishop King
are for the most part devotional, but in his " Poems, Elegies,
Paradoxes, and Sonnets," 8vo. 1657, there is a neatness, ^n.
elegance, and even a tenderness, which entitle them to more
attention than they have lately obtained. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 36*5

TO THE MEMORY OP

BENJAMIN JONSON.

MIGHT but this slender offering of mine,
Crowd 'midst the sacred burden of thy shrine^
The near acquaintance with thy greater name
Might style me wit, and privilege my fame,
But I've no such ambition, nor dare sue
For the least legacy of wit, as due.
I come not t' offend duty, and transgress
Affection, nor with bold presumption press,
'Midst those close mourners, whose nigh kin in

verse,

Hath made the near attendance of thy hearse.
I come in duty, not in pride, to shew
Not what I have in store, but what I owe ;
Nor shall my folly wrong thy fame, for we
Prize, by the want of wit, the loss of thee.

As when the wearied sun hath stoPn to rest,
And darkness made the world's unwelcome guest,
We grovelling captives of the night, yet may
With fire and candle beget light, not day;
Now he whose name in poetry controls,
Goes to converse with more refined souls,
Like country gazers in amaze we sit,
Admirers of this great eclipse in wit. s
Reason and wit we have to shew us men,
But no hereditary beam of BEN.
Our knock'd inventions may beget a spark,
Which faints at least resistance of the dark ;
Thine like the fire's high element was pure,
And like the same made not to burn, but cure.
When thy enraged Muse did chide o' the stage,
'Twas to reform, not to abuse the age.
— But thou'rt requited ill, to have thy herse,
Stain'd by profaner parricides in verse,

366 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Who make mortality a guilt, and scold,
Merely because thou'dst offer to be old :
Twas too unkind a slight'ning of thy name,
To think a ballad could confute thy fame;
Let's but peruse their libels, and they'll be
But arguments they understood not thee.
Nor is't disgrace, that in thee, through age spent,
'Twas thought a crime not to be excellent:
For me, I'll in such reverence hold thy fame,
I'll but by invocation use thy name,
Be thou propitious, poetry shall know,
No deity but Thee to whom I'll owe.

HEN. COVENTRY/

AN ELEGY
UPON BENJAMIN JONSON.

THOUGH once high Statius o'er dead Lucan's

hearse,

Would seem to fear his own hexameters,
And thought a greater honour than that fear,
He could not bring to Lucan's sepulchre ;

7 Henry Coventry, son of the lord keeper, was edacated at
All Soul's College Oxford, of which he was fellow, and where,
on the 31st August 1636, the degree of M. A. was conferred
upon him by the king in person ; he took a degree in law the
26th June 1638. He suffered much for the royal cause in the
rebellion, but upon the restoration of the king he was nfade
groom of the bed chamber to Charles II, sent upon embassies
to Breda and Sweden, and on the 3d July, 1672, was sworn
one of the principal secretaries of state. In 1680 he resigned
his high office, and died at his house near Charing Cross on the
5th December, 1686 aged 68 years. He was buried in St, Mar.
tin's church. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

369

Let not our poets fear to write of thee,

Great JONSON, king of English poetry,

In any English verse, let none whoe'er,

Bring so much emulation as to fear:

But pay without comparing thoughts at all,

Their tribute — verses to thy funeral;

Nor think whate'er they write on such a name,

Can be amiss : if high, it fits thy fame ;

If low, it rights thee more, and makes men see,

That English poetry is dead with thee ;

Which in thy genius did so strongly live. —

Nor will I here particularly strive,

To praise each well composed piece of thine ;

Or shew what judgment, art and wit did join

To make them up, but only (in the way

That Famianus honour'd Virgil) say,

The Muse herself was link'd so near to thee,

Whoe'er saw one, must needs the other see;

And if in thy expressions aught seem'd scant,

Not thou, but Poetry itself, did want.

THOMAS MAY.*

8 Thomas May, — the son of Thomas May, Esq. who purchased
the manor of Mayfield-place in Sussex (formerly an archiepis-
copal palace, and afterwards the seat of the Greshams) and
who was knighted at Greenwich in 1603 and died in 1616,—-
was born in 1595, educated at Sidney College Cambridge,
where he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and was ad.
mitted of Grays Inn the 6th August 1615. In 1617 he joined
with his mother Joan May and his cousin Richard May of Es-
lington, in alienating the estate of Mayfield to John Baker,
Esq. whose descendants have ever since enjoyed it. May's at-
tachment to Charles I. and his subsequent apostacy, — his dra-
matic writings and translations, and his history of the parliament
are sufficiently known. He died — already dead-drunk— the
13th November 1650. GILCHRIST.

VOL, IX.

Bb

370 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

AN ELEGY
ON BEN JONSON.

1 DARE not, learned Shade, bedew thy hcrse
With tears, unless that impudence, in verse,
Would cease to be a sin ; and what were crime
In prose, would be no injury in rhyme.
My thoughts are so below, I fear to act
A sin, like their black envy, who detract;
As oft as I would character in speech
That worth, which silent wonderscarce can reach.
Yet, I that but pretend to learning, owe
So much to thy great fame, I ought to shew
My weakness in thy praise ; thus to approve,
Although it be less wit, is greater love :
'Tis all our fancy aims at ; and our tongues
At best, will guilty prove of friendly wrongs.
For, who would image out thy worth, great BEN,
Should first be, what he praises ; and his pen
Thy active brains should feed, which we can't

have,

Unless we could redeem thee from the grave.
The only way that's left now, is to look
Into thy papers, to read o'er thy book ;
And then remove thy fancies, there doth lie
Some judgment, where we cannot make, t' apply
Our reading : some, perhaps, may call this wit,
And think, we do not steal, but only fit
Thee to thyself; of all thy marble wears,
Nothing is truly ours, except the tears.

O could we weep like thee ! we might convey
New breath, and raise men from their beds of

clay

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

371

Unto a life of fame ; he is not dead,

Who by thy Muses hath been buried.

Thrice happy those brave heroes, whom I meet

Wrapt in thy writings, as their winding sheet!

For, when the tribute unto nature due,

Was paid, they did receive new life from you;

Which shall not be undated, since thy breath

Is able to immortal, after death.

Thus rescued from the dust, they did ne'er see

True life, until they were entomb'd by thee.

You that pretend to courtship, here admire
Those pure and active flames, love did inspire :
And though he could have took his mistress* ears,
Beyond faint sighs, false oaths, and forced tears;
His heat was still so modest, it might warm,
But do the cloister'd votary no harm.
The face he sometimes praises, but the mind,
A fairer saint, is in his verse enshrin'd.

He that would worthily set down his praise,
Should study lines as lofty as his plays.
The Roman worthies did not seem to fight
With braver spirit, than we see him write ;
His pen their valour equals ; and that age
Receives a greater glory from our stage.
Bold Catiline, at once Rome's hate and fear,
Far higher in his story doth appear;
The flames those active furies did inspire,
Ambition and Revenge, his better fire
Kindles afresh ; thus lighted, they shall burn,
Till Rome to its first nothing do return.
Brave fall, had but the cause been likewise good,
Had he so, for his country, lost his blood !

Some like not Tully in his own ; yet while
All do admire him in thy English style,
I censure not ; I rather think, that we
May well his equal, thine we ne'er shall see.

DUDLEY DIGGS.'

9 Dudley Digges,tbe son of sir Dudley Digges, master of the
B b2

372 JONSONUS VIHBIUS.

TO THE IMMORTALITY OF MY LEARNED FlUEND,

MASTER JONSON.

I PARLJED once with death, and thought to yield,
When thou advised'st me to keep the field ;
Yet if I fell, thou wouldst upon my herse,
Breathe the reviving spirit of thy verse.

I live, and to thy grateful Muse would pay
A parallel of thanks, but that this day
Of thy fair rights, thorough th' innumerous light,
That flows from thy adorers, seems as bright,
As when the sun darts through his golden hair,
His beams diameter into the air.
In vain I then strive to encrease thy glory,
These lights that go before make dark my story.
Only-Ill say, heaven gave unto thy pen
A sacred power, immortalizing men,
And thou dispensing life immortally,
Do>st now but sabbatise from work, not die.

GEORGE FoRTEscuE.1

rolls, was born at Chilham in Kent in 1612. He became a
commoner in University College Oxford in 1629, took his B.A.
degree in 1631, the year following was made probationer-fellow
of All Souls, as founder's-kin, and in 1635 was licensed M. A.
He was a man of strong parts and considerable attainments, and
was firmly attached to the service of the king. He died at an
early age, of a malignant fever called the Camp disease^ and was
buried in the chapel of AH Souls college, October 1643.

GlLCHRiST.

1 I am unable to mention any thing concerning George For-
tescue, further than his having some commendatory verses pre-
fixed to Rivers's Devout Rhapsodies, 4to. 1648 ; sir John Beau-
mont's Eosworth Field, 8?o. 1629 ; and sir Thomas Hawkins's
translation of some of Horace's Odes, 4th edition 8vo, 1638.

GILCIIRIST,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

373

AN ELEGY UPON THE
DEATH OF BENT JONSON,

THE MOST EXCELLENT OF ENGLISH POETS.

WHAT doth officious fancy here prepare? —
Be't rather this rich kingdom's .charge and care
To find a virgin quarry, whence no hand
E'er wrought a tomh on vulgar dust to stand,
And thence bring for this work materials fit:
Great JONSON needs no architect of wit ;
Who forc'd from art, received from nature more
Than doth survive him, or e'er liv'd before.

And, poets, with what veil soe'er you hide,
Your aim, 'twill not be thought your grief, but

pride,

Which,thatyourcypressnever growth might want,
Did it near his eternal laurel plant.

Heaven at the death of princes, by the birth
Of some new star, seems to instruct the earth,
How it resents our human fate. Then why
Didst thou, wit's most triumphant monarch, die
Without thy comet? Did the sky despair
To teem a fire, bright as thy glories were ?
Or is it by its age, unfruitful grown,
And can produce no light, but what is known,
A common mourner, when a prince's fall
Invites a star t' attend the funeral ?
But those prodigious sights only create,
Talk for the vulgar : Heaven, before thy fate,
That thou thyself might'st thy own dirges hear,
Made the sad stage close mourner for a year;

374 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

The stage, which (as by an instinct divine,
Instructed,) seeing its own fate in thine,
And knowing how it ow'd its life to thee,
Prepared itself thy sepulchre to be ;
And had continued so, but that thy wit,
Which as the soul, first animated it,
Still hovers here below, and ne'er shall die,
Till time be buried in eternity.

But you ! whose comic labours on the stage,
Against the envy of a fro ward age
Hold combat ! how will now your vessels sail,
The seas so broken and the winds so frail,
Such rocks, such shallows threat'uing every where,
And Jonson dead, whose art your course might
steer?

Look up ! where Seneca and Sophocles,
Quick Plautus and sharp Aristophanes,
Enlighten yon bright orb ! doth not your eye,
Among them, one far larger fire, descry,
At which their lights grow pale? 'tis JONSON,

there

He shines your Star, who was your Pilot here.

W. HABINGTON.*

* William Habington, the son of Thomas Habington of
Hendlip in Worcestershire by Mary Parker, sister to the lord
Mounteagle to whom the mysterious letter was sent by which
the Gunpowder plot was discovered, was born at his father's
seat on the 5th November 1605. He was educated Jin the reli-
gion of his father at Paris and St. Onaer's. He married Lucy,
daughter of lord Powis, the Castara of his muse, and died on
the 30th November, 1654. The poems of Habington, though
aspiring to none of the higher classes of poetry, are tolerably
musical in their numbers, and indicate a purity of morals ^nd
gentleness of manners in their author : they must have been at
one period popular, since they passed through three impressions
between 1635 and 1640. Indeed, his merits have been rewarded
with unusual liberality, his comedy found a place in Dodsley's
Collection of old Plays ; his life of Edward the 4th was admitted

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 375

UPON BEN JONSON,

THE MOST EXCELLENT OF COMIC POETS.

MIRROR of poets 1 mirror of our age !
Which her whole face beholding on thy stage,
Pleas'd and d ispleas'd with her own faults endures,
A remedy, like those whom music cures,
Thou not alone those various inclinations,
Which nature gives to ages, sexes, nations,
Hast traced with thy all -resembling pen,
But all that custom hath impos'd on men,
Or ill-got habits, which distort them so,
That scarce the brother can the brother know,
Is represented to the wondering eyes,
Of all that see or read thy Comedies.
Whoever in those glasses looks may find,
The spots return'd, or graces of his mind ;
And by the help of so divine an art,
At leisure view, and dress his nobler part.
Narcissus cozen'd by that flattering well,
Which nothing could but of his beauty tell,
Had here, discovering the deform'd estate
Of his fond mind, preserved himself with hate.
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad
In flesh and blood so well, that Plato had
Beheld what his high fancy once embraced,
Virtue with colours, speech, and motion graced.
The sundry postures of thy copious muse,
Who would express, a thousand tongues must use:

into bishop Kennet's compleat history of England, and the
volume of poems before spoken of has been lately reprinted.

GILCHRIST.

376 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Whose fate's no less peculiar than thy art ;
For as thou couklst all characters impart,
So none can render thine, who still escapes,
Like Proteus in variety of shapes,
Who was nor this nor that, but all we find,
And all we can imagine in mankind.

E. WALLER.'

UPON THE POET OF HIS TIME,

BENJAMIN JONSON,

HIS HONOURED FRIEND AND FATHER.

AND is thy glass run out? is that oil spent,
Which light to such tough sinewy labours lent?
Well, BEN, I now perceive that all the Nine,
Though they their utmost forces should combine,
Cannot prevail 'gainst Night's three daughters,

but,

One still will spin, one wind, the other cut.
Yet in despight of spindle, clue, and knife,
Thou, in thy strenuous lines, hast got a life,
Which, like thy bay, shall flourish every age,
While sock or buskin move upon the stage.

JAMES HOWELL.*

* Edmund Waller born in 1605, died of a dropsy, the 1st
October, 1687. GILCHRIST.

4 James Howell, the author of " Familiar Epistles" is so
well known that it seems scarcely necessary to say more. than
that he was born at Abernant, in Carnarvonshire, educated at
Jesus College Oxford, and died in November 1666, and if as
buried in the Temple Church. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

377

AN OFFERTORY AT THE TOMB

OF THE FAMOUS POET

BEN JONSON.

IF so'uls departed lately hence clo know
How we perform the duties that we owe
Their relique's, will it not grieve thy spirit
To see our dull devotion ? thy merit
Profaned by disproportion'd rites ? thy herse
Rudely defiled with our unpolish'd verse ?: —
Necessity's our best excuse : 'tis in
Our understanding, not our will, we sin;
'Gainst which 'tis now in vain to labour, we
Did nothing know, but what was taught by thee.

The routed soldiers when their captains fall
Forget all order, that men cannot call
It properly a battle that they fight ;
Nor we (thou being dead) be said to write,
'Tis noise we utter, nothing can be sung
By those distinctly that have lost their tongue;
And therefore whatsoe'er the subject be,
All verses now become thy ELEGY :
For, when a lifeless poem shall be read,
Th' afflicted reader sighs, BEN JONSO^'S dead.
This is thy glory, that no pen can raise
A lasting trophy in thy honour'd praise ;
Since fate (it seems) would have it so exprest,
Each muse should end with thine, who was the

best:

And but her flights were stronger, and so high,
That time's rude hand cannot reach her glory,

378 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

An ignorance had spread this age, as great

As that which made thy learned muse so sweat,

And toil to dissipate; until, at length,

Purg'd by thy art, it gain'd a lasting strength;

And now secur'd hy thy all-powerful writ,

Can fear no more a like relapse of wit :

Though (to our grief) we ever must despair,
That any age can raise thee up an heir.

JOHN VERNON.
e Societ. In. Temp.

TO THE
MEMORY OF BEN JONSON.

THE Muses' fairest light in no dark time;
The wonder of a learned age ; the line
Which none can pass ; the most proportioned wit,
To nature, the best judge of what was fit ;
The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen ;
The voice most echo'd by consenting men;
The soul which answer'd best to all well said
By others, and which most requital made ;
Tuned to the highest key of ancient Rome,
Returning all her music with his own,
In whom with nature, study claim'd a part,
And yet who to himself ow'd all his art :

Here lies BEN JONSON ! Every age will look
With sorrow here, with wonder on his Book.

J. C.

5 John Vernon was the son and heir of Robert Vernon, of
Camberwell, in the county of Surrey, Knt. ; he was admitted
of the Inner Temple the 15th October, 2nd Charles the First,
and was called to the bar the 15th October, 1634*

GlLCHEIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 579

TO THE SAME.

WHO first reform'd our stage with justest laws,
And was the first best judge in your own cause :
Who, when his actors trembled for applause,

Could (with a noble confidence) prefer
His own, by right, to a whole theatre ;
From principles which he knew could not err.

Who to his Fable did his persons fit,
With all the properties of art and wit,
And above all, that could be acted, writ.

Who public follies did to covert drive,
Which he again could cunningly retrive,
Leaving them no ground to rest on, and thrive,

Here JONSON lies, whom, had I nam'd before,
In that one word alone, I had paid more
Than can be now, when plenty makes me poor.

JOHN CLEVELAND.*

6 Amid much coarseness, indelicacy and quaintness, " the
genuine remains of John Cleveland" contain many examples of
nervous thought and unaffected tenderness. Though educated
under a puritan minister, he rejected the frigid tenets and anti-
monarchical feelings of the sectaries, and satirized their disloy-
alty and hypocrisy without mercy. When his zeal and perse-
verance in the royal cause had brought his person under re-
straint, the dignified and manly terms in which he remonstrated
with Cromwell, and which under a meaner usurper would have
put his life in jeopardy, extorted from the Protector his liberty.
He was born at Loughborough in 1613, educated at Christ's
and St. John's Colleges Cambridge, and died in Gray's Inn on
the 29th April 1658 ;-— greatly lamented by the royalists.

GlLCHIUST.

580 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

TO THE

MEMORY OF BEN JONSON.

As when the vestal hearth went out, no fire
Less holy than the flame that did expire,
Could kindle it again : so at thy fall
Our wit, great BEN, is too apocryphal
To celebrate the loss, since 'tis too much
To write thy Epitaph, and not he such.
What thou wert, like th' hard oracles of old,
Without an extasy cannrtt he told.
We must be ravish'd first; thou must infuse
Thyself into us both the theme and muse.
Else, (though we all conspir'd to make thy herse
Our works) so that 't had been but one grate

verse,

Though the priest had translated for that time
The liturgy, and buried thee in rhyme,
So that in metre we had heard it said,
Poetic dust is to poetic laid :
And though, that dust being Shakspeare's, thou

mioiit'st have

w*

Not his room, but the poet for thy grave ;
So that, as thou didst prince of numbers die
And live, so now thou might'st in numbers lie,
'Twere frail solemnity : verses on thee
And not like thine, would but kind libels be;
And we, (not speaking thy whole worth) should

raise

Worse blots, than they that envied thy praise.
Indeed, thou need'st us not, since above all
Invention, thou wert thine own funeral.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

381

Hereafter, when time hath fed on thy tomb,
Th' inscription worn out, and the marble dumb,
So that 'twould pose a critic to restore
Half words, and words expir'd so long before ;
When thy maim'd statue hath a sentenced face,
And looks that are the horror of the place,
That 'twill he learning, and antiquity,
And ask a SELDEN to say, this was thee,
Thou 'It have a whole name still, norneed'st thou

fear

That will be ruin'd, or lose nose, or hair.
Let others write so thin, that they can't be
Authors till rotten, no posterity
Can add to thy works ; they had their whole

growth then

When first borne, and came aged from thy pen,
Whilst living thou enjoy'dst the fame and sense
Of all that time gives, but the reverence.
When thou'rt of Homer's years, no man will say
Thy poems are less worthy, but more gray:
'Tis bastard poetry, and of false blood
Which can't, without succession, be good.
Things that will always last, do thus agree
With things eternal ; th' at once perfect be.
Scorn then their censures, who gave out, thy wit
As long upon a comedy did sit
As elephants bring forth ; and that thy blots
And mendings took more time than Fortune plots:
That such thy drought was, and so great thy

thirst,
That all thy plays were drawn at the Mermaid

first ;

That the king's yearly butt wrote, and his wine
Hath more right than thou to ttly CATILINE.
Let such men keep a diet, let their wit
Be rack'd, and while they write, suffer a fit :

382 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

When they've felt tortures which out-pain the

gout,

Such, as with less, the state draws treason out;
Though they should the length of consumptions

lie

Sick of their verse, and of their poem die,
'Twould not be thy worse scene, but would at last
Confirm their boastings, and shew made in haste.
He that writes well, writes quick, since the

rule's true,

Nothing is slowly done, that's always new.
So when thy Fox had ten times acted been,
Each day was first, but that 'twas cheaper seen;
And so thy ALCHEMIST play'd o'er and o'er,
Was new o' the stage, when 'twas not at the door.
We, like the actors, did repeat ; the pit
The first time saw, the next conceiv'd thy wit :
Which was cast in those forms, such rules, such

arts,

That but to some not half thy acts were parts :
Since of some silken judgments we may say,
They fill'd a box two hours, but saw no play.
So that th' unlearned lost their money ; and
Scholars sav'd only, that could understand.
Thy scene was free from monsters ; no hard plot
Call'd down a God t' untie th' unlikely knot :
The stage was still a stage, two entrances
Were not two parts o' the world, disjoin'd by seas.
Thine were land-tragedies, no prince was found
To swim a whole scene out, then o5 the stage

drown'd ;

Pitch'd fields, asRed-bull wars, still felt thy doom ;
Thou laid'st no sieges to the music room ;
Norwouldst allow, to thy best Comedies,
Humours that should above the people rise.
Yet was thy language and thy style so high,
Thy sock to th' ancle, buskin reach'd to th' thigh ;

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

383

And both so chaste, so 'bove dramatic clean,
That we both safely saw, and liv'd thy scene.
No foul loose line did prostitute thy wit,
Thou wrot'st thy comedies, didst not commit.
We did the vice arraigned not tempting hear,
And were made judges, not bad parts by th' ear.
For thou ev'n sin did in such words array,
That some who came bad parts, went out good

play.

Which, ended not with th' epilogue, the age
Still acted, which grew innocent from the stage.
'Tis true thouhadst some sharpness, but thy salt
Serv'd but with pleasure to reform the fault :
Men were laugh'd into virtue, and none more
Hated Face acted than were such before.
So did thy sting not blood, but humours draw,
So much doth satire more correct than law ;
Which was not nature in thee, as some call
Thy teeth, who say thy wit lay in thy gall:
That thou didst quarrel first, and then, in spite,
Didst 'gainst a person of such vices write;
That 'twas revenge, not truth, that on the stage
Carlo was not presented, but thy rage ;
And that when thou in company wert met,
Thy meat took notes, and thy discourse was net.
We know thy free vein had this innocence,
To spare the party, and to brand th' offence ;
And the just indignation thou wert in
Did not expose Shift, but his tricks and gin.
Thou mightst have us'd th' old comic freedom,

these

Might have seen themselves play'd like Socrates ;
Like Cleon, Mammon might the knight have

been,
If, as Greek authors, thou hadst turn'd Greek

spleen ;

384 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

And hadst not chosen rather to translate
Their learning into English, not their hate :
Indeed this last, if thou hadst been bereft
Of thy humanity, might be call'd theft;
The other was not ; whatsoe'er was strange,
Orborrow'dinthee: did grow thine by the change,
Who without Latin helps hadst been as rare
As Beaumont, Fletcher, or as Shakspeare were;

And like them, from thy native stock could'st
say,

Poets and Kings are not born every day.

J. MAYNE/

IN THE MEMORY OF THE

MOST WORTHY BENJAMIN JONSON.

FATHER of poets, though thine own great day,
Struck from thyself, scorns that a weaker ray
Should twine in lustre with it, yet my flame,
Kindled from thine, flies upwards tow'rds thy
name.

7 Jasper Mayne, whose entertaining comedies have endeared
his name to dramatic readers, was bom at Hatherly in Devon,
1604, educated at Westminster, and afterwards at Christ Church
Oxford, where he took the degrees of B. A. 1628, and M. A.
1631. Ejected from his vicarages of Pyrton and Cassington by
the Parliamentary visitors, he found an asylum under the roof
of the earl of Devonshire, and the storm subsiding, was restored
to his livings, made canon of Christ Church and archdeacon
of Chichester. He died the 6th December 1672. His character
has been thus briefly and boldly sketched : u Ingenio sanefceli-
cissimoet eruditione propemodum omnigena locuplctatOj fruebatur ;
theologus accurate doctus et annunciator evangelii disertus : Poeta
porrv non incdcbris ei ob sales acfacetias in precio habitus."

GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 385

For in the acclamation of the less
There's piety, though from it no access.
And though my ruder thoughts make me of chose,
Who hide and cover what they should disclose;
Yet, where the lustre's such, he makes it seen
Better to some, that draws the veil between.

And what can more be hoped, since that divine
Free filling spirit took its flight with thine?
Men may have fury, but no raptures now;
Like witches, charm, yet not know whence, nor

how ;
And, through distemper, grown not strong but

fierce,

Instead of writing, only rave in verse :
Which when by thy laws judg'd, 'twill be confessed,
'Twas not to be inspir'd, but be possess'd.

Where shall we find a muse like thine, that can
So well present and shew man unto man,
That each one finds his twin, and thinks thy art
Extends not to the gestures but the heart ?
Where one so shewing life to life, that we
Think thoutaught'st custom, and notcustomthee?
Manners, that were themes to thy scenes still flow-
In the same stream, and are their comments now :
These times thus living o'er thy models, we
Think them not so much wit, as prophecy ;
And though we know the character, may swear
A Sybil's finger hath been busy there.

Things common thou speak'st proper, which

though known

For public, stampt by thee grow thence thine own :
Thy thoughts so order'd, so express'd, that we
Conclude that thou didst not discourse, but see,
Language so master'd, that thy numerous feet,
Laden with genuine words, do always meet
Each in his art ; nothing unfit doth fall,
Shewing the poet, like the wiseman, All.

VOL. ix. C c

S86 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Thine equal skill thus wresting nothing, made
Thy pen seem not so much to write as trade.

That life, that Venus of all things, which we
Conceive or shew, proportion'd decency,
Is not found scattered in thee here and there,
But, like the soul, is wholly every where.
,No strange perplexed maze doth pass for plot,
Thou always dost untie, not cut the knot.
Thy labyrinth's doors are opened by one thread
That ties, and runs through all that's done or said :
No power comes down with learned hat and rod,
Wit only, and contrivance is thy god.

'Tis easy to gild gold ; there's small skill spent
Where even the first rude mass is ornament:
Thy muse took harder metals, purg'd and boiFd,
Labour'd and tried, heated, and beat and toil'd,
Sifted the dross, filed roughness, then gave dress,
Vexing rude subjects into comeliness.
Be it thy glory then, that we may say,
Thou run'st where th' foot was hinder' d by the

way.

Nor dost thou pour out, but dispense thy vein,
SkilFd when to spare, and when to entertain:
Not like our wits, who into one piece do
Thro wall that they can say, and their friends too:
Pumping themselves, for one term's noise so dry,
As if they made their wills in poetry.
And such spruce compositions press the stage,
Whenmen transcribe themselves, and not the age:
Both sorts of plays are thus like pictures shewn,
Thine of the common life, theirs of their own,

Thy models yet are not so fram'd, as we.
May call them libels, and not imag'ry;
No name on any basis : 'tis thy skill
To strike the vice, but spare the person still.
As he, who when he saw the serpent wreath'd
About his sleeping son, and as he breath'd,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 387

Drink in his soul, did so the shot contrive,
To kill the beast, but keep the child alive:
So dost thou aim thy darts, which, even when
They kill the poisons, do but wake the men;
Thy thunders thus but purge, and we endure
Thy lancings better than another's cure ;
And justly too : for th' age grows more unsound
From the fool's balsam, than the Wiseman's wound.

No rotten talk brokes for a laugh ; no page
Commenc'd man by th' instructions of thy stage ;
No bargaining line there ; provoc'tive verse ;
Nothing but what Lucretia might rehearse;
No need to make good countenance ill, and use
The plea of strict life for a looser muse.
No woman ruled thy quill ; we can descry
No verse born under any Cynthia's eye:
Thy star was judgment only, and right sense,
Thyself being to thyself an influence.
Stout beauty is thy grace ; stern pleasures do
Present delights, but mingle horrors too :
Thy muse doth thus like Jove's fierce girl appear,
With a fair hand, but grasping of a spear.

Where are they now that cry, thy lamp did

drink
More oil than the author wine, while he did

think ?

We do embrace their slander : thou hast writ
Not for dispatch but fame; no market wit:
Twas not thy care, that it might pass and sell,
But that it might endure, and be done well :
Nor woiildst thou venture it unto the ear,
Until the file would not make smooth, but wear ;
Thy verse came season'd hence, and would -not

give

Born not to feed the author, but to live :
Whence 'mong the choicer judges risse a strife,
To make thee read as classic in thy life.
C c2

388 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Those that do hence applause, and suffrage beg,

'Cause they can poems form upon one leg,

Write not to time, but to the poet's day :

There's differ en ce^Jbet ween fame, and sudden pay.

These men sing kingdoms' falls, as if that fate

Used the same force to a village, and a state ;

These serve Thyestes' bloody supper in,

As if it had only a sallad been :

Their Catilines are but fencers, whose fights rise

Not to the fame of battle, but of prize.

But thou still put'st true passions on ; dost write

With the same courage that tried captains fight;

Giv'st the right blush and colour unto things,

Low without creeping, high without loss of wings;

Smooth, yet not weak, and by a thorough care,

Big without swelling, without painting fair.

They, wretches, while they cannot stand to fit,

Are not wits, but materials of wit.

What though thy searching wit did rake the dust

Of time, and purge old metals of their rust?

Is it no labour, no art, think they, to

Snatch shipwrecks from the deep, as divers do?

And rescue jewels from the covetous sand,

Making the seas hid wealth adorn the land ?

What though thy culling muse did rob the store

Of Greek, and Latin gardens to bring o'er

Plants to thy native soil? their virtues were

Improved far more, by being planted here.

If thy still to their essence doth refine

So many drugs, is not the water thine ?

Thefts thus become just works; they and their

grace

Are wholly thine : thus doth the stamp and face
Make that the king's, that's ravish'd from the

mine;
In others then 'tis ore, in thee 'tis coin.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

389

Blest life of authors ! unto whom we owe
Those that we have, and those that we want too :
Thou art all so good, that reading makes thee

worse,

And to have writ so well's thine only curse.
Secure then of thy merit, thou didst hate
That servile base dependence upon fate:
Success thou ne'er thoughtst virtue, nor that fit,
Which chance, and th' age's fashion did make hit;
Excluding those from life in after-time,
Who into poetry first brought luck and rhyme ;
Who thought the people's breath good air; styled

name

What was but noise ; and, getting briefs for fame,
Gather'd the many's suffrages, and thence
Made commendation a benevolence.
Thy thoughts were their own laurel, and did win
That best applause of being crown'd within.
And though th' exacting age, when deeper

years

Had intenvowen snow among thy hairs,
Would not permit thou shouldst grow old, 'cause

they

Ne'er by thy writings knew thee young ; we may
Say justly, they're ungrateful, when they more
Condemn'd thee, 'causethou wertsogood before.
Thine art was thine art's blur, and they'll confess
Thy strong perfumes made them not smell thy

less.

But, though to 'err with thee be no small skill,
And we adore the last draughts of thy quill :
Though those thy thoughts, which the now-
queasy age,

Doth count but clods, and refuse of the stage,
Will come up porcelain- wit some hundreds hence,
When there will be more manners, and more

sense ;

390 JONSONUS VJRBIUS.

'Twas judgment yet to yield, and we afford
Thy silence as much fame, as once thy word :
Who like an aged oak, the leaves being gone,
Wast food hefore, art now religion ;
Thought still more rich, though not so richly

stor'd,

View'd and enjoy'd hefore, hut now ador'd.
Great soul of numbers, whom we want and

boast ;

Like curing gold, most valued now thou art lost!
When we shall feed on refuse offals, when
We shall from corn to acorns turn again ;
Then shall we see that these two names are one,
JONSON and POETRY,, which now are gone.

W. CARTWRIGHT.'

1 The plays and poems of William Cartwright are too well
known to dramatic readers to render a minute account of his
life necessary or even excusable. Wood, whose narrative cor-
responds with the calculation of Humphrey Mobely, a printer
to whom literature is much indebted, says that he was born in
1611, educated first at Cirencester, afterwards at Westminster,
and lastly at Oxford, where in 1628 he was admitted student of
Christ Church, and where in 1635 he took the degree of
Master of Arts. In 1642 the editor of this collection (B. Duppa),
appointed him his successor in the church of Salisbury. On the
12th of April 1643 he was chosen junior proctor of the Uni-
versity of Oxford, where he died on the 29th of the November
following,

a Prais'd, wept, and hoiiour'd by the muse he loved."

GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

391

AN ELEGY
UPON BEN JONSON.

Now thou art clead, and thy great wit and name

Is got beyond the reach of chance or fame,

Which none can lessen, nor we bring enough

To raise it higher, through our want of stuff;

I find no room for praise, but elegy,

And there but name the day when thou didst die:

That men may know thou didst so, for they will

Hardly believe disease or age could kill

A body so inform'd, with such a soul,

As, like thy verse, might fate itself control.

But thou art gone, and we like greedy heirs,
That snatch the fruit of their dead father's cares,
Begin to enquire what means thou left'st behind
For us, pretended heirs unto thy mind :
And myself, not the latest 'gan to look
And found the inventory in thy Book ;
A stock for writers to set up withal :
That out of thy full comedies, their small
And slender wits by vexing much thy writ
And their own brains, may draw good saving wit;
And when they shall upon some credit pitch,
May be thought well to live, although not rich.
Then for your songsters, masquers, what a deal
We have? enough to make a commonweal
Of dancing courtiers, as if poetry
Were made to set out their activity.
Learning great store for us to feed upon,
But little fame ; that, with thyself, is gone,

S92 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

And like a desperate debt, bequeath'd, not paid
Before thy death has us the poorer made.
Whilst we with mighty labour it pursue,
And after all our toil, not find it due.

Jo. RUTTER.S

TO THE

MEMORY OF IMMORTAL BEN.

To write is easy ; but to write of thee
Truth, will be thought to forfeit modesty.
So far beyond conceit thy strengths appear,
That almost all will doubt, what all must hear.
For, when the world shall know, that Pindar's

height,

Plautus his wit, and Seneca's grave weight,
Horace his matchless nerves, and that high phrase
Wherewith great Lucan doth his readers maze,
Shall with such radiant illustration glide,
(As if each line to life were propertied)
Through all thy works ; and like a torrent move,
Rolling the muses to the court of Jove,
Wit's general tribe will soon entitle thee
Heir to Apollo's ever verdant tree.
And 'twill by all concluded be, the stage
Is widowed now ; was bed-rid by thy age.

As well as empire, wit his zenith hath,
Nor can the rage of time, or tyrant's wrath „

9 Joseph Ratter translated the Cid, from the French of Cor-
neille, the first part of which was presented with success at the
Cockpit. He was also author of a pastoral tragi-comedy, called
the Shepherd's Holiday, 8?o. 1635. The particulars of his life
are, it is believed, altogether unknown. GILCHIUST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 393

Encloud so bright a flame : but it will shine
In spight of envy, till it grow divine.
-As when Augustus reign'd, and war did cease,
Rome's bravest wits were usher'd in by peace :
So in our halcyon days, we have had now
Wits, to which, all that after come, must bow.
And should the stage compose herself a crown
Of all those wits, which hitherto she has known :
Though there be many that about her brow,
Like sparkling stones, mightaquicklustre throw;
Yet, Shakspeare, Beaumont, Jonson, these three

shall

Make up the gem in the point vertical.
And now since JONSON 's gone, we well may say,
The stage hath seen her glory and decay.
Whose judgment was't refined it ? or who
Gave laws, by which hereafter all must go,
But solid JONSON ? from whose full strong quill,
Each line did like a diamond drop distil,
Though hard, yet clear. Thalia that had skipt
Before, but like a maygame girl, now stript
Of all her mimic jigs, became a sight
With mirth to flow each pleas'd spectator's light ;
And in such graceful measures, did discover
Her beauties now, that every eye turn'd lover.

Who is't shall make with great Sejanus' fall,
Not the stage crack, but th' universe and all?
Wild Catiline's stern fire, who now shall show,
Or quench'd with milk, still'd down by Cicero?
Where shall old authors in such words be shown,
As vex their ghosts, that they are not their own?

Admit his muse was slow. Tis judgment's fate
To move, like greatest princes, still in state.
Those planets placed in the higher spheres,
End not their motion but in many years;
Whereas light Venus and the giddy moon,
In one or some few days their courses run,

394 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Slow are substantial bodies : but to things
That airy are, has nature added wings.
Each trivial poet that can chant a rhyme,
May chatter out his own wit's funeral chime:
And those slight nothings that so soon are made,
Like mushrooms, may together live and fade.
The boy may make a squib ; but every line
Must be considered, where men spring a mine:
And to write things that time can never stain,
Will require sweat, and rubbing of the brain.
Such were those things he left. For some may be
Eccentric, yet with axioms main agree.
This I'll presume to say. When time has made
Slaughter of kings that in the world have sway'd :
A greener bays shall crown BEN JONSON'S name,
Than shall be wreath'd about their regal fame.
For numbers reach to infinite. But he
Of whom I write this, has prevented me,
And boldly said so much in his own praise,
No other pen need any trophy raise.

Ow. FELTHAM.*

1 It seems somewhat remarkable that nothing should be
known of the author of a book so popular as Feltham's u Re-
solves" has always been, beyond the bare circumstances related
by Oldys in his MS. notes on Langbaine, of his father Thomas
Feltham being a Suffolkman, and that Owen was one of three
children. Although Owen has many poems scattered up and
down, it is upon his prose work that his fame depends; and his
u Resolves, though by no means free from pedantry, is rational
and pious, and shews a mind of no ordinary strength and attain-
ments. If Frltham was indeed the author of the ode in answer
to Ben Jonsons address to himself (which is printed by Lang-
baine, and afterwards by him called Mr. Oliihaii/s) it must be
owned that by the present effusion he was equally ready to do
homage to the general merits of the departed bard ; nor did he
deteriorate the value of his offering by the coldness of delay.

Si bene quod facias, facias cito : nam citufactum,
Gratumerit; ingratwn, gratia tardafacit. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

395

TO THE MEMORY.
OF BEN JONSON.

I do not blame their pains, who did not doubt
By labour, of the circle to find out
The quadrature; nor can I think it strange
That others should prove constancy in change.
He studied not in vain, who hoped to give
A body to the echo, make it live,
Be seen, and felt ; nor he whose art would borrow
Belief for shaping yesterday, to-morrow :
But here I yield ; invention, study, cost,
Time, and the art of Art itself is lost.
When any frail ambition undertakes
For honour, profit, praise, or all their sakes,
To speak unto the world in perfect sense,
Pure judgment, JONSON, 'tis an excellence
Suited his pen alone, which yet to do
Requires himself, and 'twere a labour too
Crowning the best of Poets : say all sorts
Of bravest acts must die, without reports,
Count learned knowledge barren, fame abhorr'd,
Let memory be nothing but a word ;
Grant JONSON the only genius of the times,
Fix him a constellation in all rhymes,
All height, all secrecies of wit invoke
The virtue of his name, to ease the yoke
Of barbarism ; yet this lends only praise
To such as write, but adds not to his bays :
For he will grow more fresh in every story,
Out of the perfum'd spring of his own glory.

GEORGE DONNE."

2 George Donne, the mediocrity of whose muse is compen-

396 JONSONUS VIRBIUS. -

A FUNERAL SACRIFICE TO THE SACRED MEMORY
OF HIS THRICE HONOURED FATHER,

BEN JONSON.

I CANNOT grave, nor carve ; else would I give
Thee statues, sculptures, and thy name should

live

In tombs, and brass, until the stones, or rust
Of thine own monument mix with thy dust:
But nature has afforded me a slight
And easy muse, yet one that takes her flight
Above the vulgar pitch. BEN, she was thine,
Made by adoption free and genuine ;
By virtue of thy charter, which from heaven,
By Jove himself, before thy birth was given.
The sisters nine this secret did declare,
Who of Jove's counsel, and his daughters are.
These from Parnassus' hill came running down,
And though an infant did with laurels crown.
Thrice they him kist, and took him in their arms,
And dancing round, encircled him with charms,
Pallas her vigin breast did thrice distil
Into his lips, and him with nectar fill.
When he grew up to years, his mind was all
On verses; verses, that the rocks might call

sated in some measure by the warmth of his friendship, appears
to have limited his endeavours to measured praises of his com-
panions' labours. He was evidently familiar with several poets
of eminence, and has commendations prefixed to the plays of
Massinger and Ford, as well as before the writings of authors
of inferior fame. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 397

To follow him, and hell itself command,

And wrest Jove's three-fold thunder from his hand.

The satyrs oft-times hemm'd him in a ring,

And gave him pipes and reeds to hear him sing;

Whose vocal notes, tun'd to Apollo's lyre,

The syrens, and the muses did admire.

The nymphs to him their gems and corals sent ;

And did with swans, and nightingales present,

Gifts far heneath his worth. The golden ore,

That lies on Tagus or Pactolus' shore,

Might not compare with him, nor that pure sand

The Indians find upon Hydaspes' strand.

His fruitful raptures shall grow up to seed.

And as the ocean does the rivers feed,

So shall his wit's rich veins, the world supply

With unexhausted wealth, and ne'er be dry.

For whether he, like a fine thread does file

His terser poems in a comic style,

Or treats of tragic furies, and him list,

To draw his lines out with a stronger twist;

Minerva's, nor Arachne's loom can shew

Such curious tracts ; nor does the spring bestow

Such glories on the field, or Flora's bowers,

As his work smile with figures, and with flowers.

Never did so much strength, or such a spell

Of art, and eloquence of papers dwell.

For whilst that he in colours, full and true,

Men's natures, fancies, and their humours drew

In method, order, matter, sense and grace,

Fitting each person to his time and place ;

Knowing to move, to slack, or to make haste,

Binding the middle with the first and last:

He framed all minds, and did all passions stir,

And with a bridle guide the theatre.

To say now he is dead, or to maintain
A paradox he lives, were labour vain :

398 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Earth must to earth. But his fair soul does wear
Bright Ariadne's crown ; or is placed near,
Where Orpheus' harp turns round with Laeda's

swan :

Astrologers, demonstrate where you can,
Where his star shines, and what part of the sky,
Holds his compendious divinity.
There he is fix'd ; I know it, 'cause from thence,
Myself have lately received influence.
The reader smiles ; but let no man deride
The emblem of my love, not of my pride.

SHACKERLEY MARMION.*

ON THE BEST OF ENGLISH POETS,

BEN JONSON,

DECEASED.

So seems a star to shoot ; when from our sight
Falls the deceit, not from its loss of light ;

3 Shackerley Marmion, heir of the Shackerley's of Little
Longsdon in Derbyshire, was the eldest son of Shackerley
Marmion, lord of the manor of Aynho in Northamptonshire,
where the poet was born in January 1602. Wood has attributed
the dissipation of the family estate to the Shackerley before us,
from the habitual prodigality of poets ; but the estate was alie-
nated by the elder of the name in the 13th year of James I.,
when the poet was only 1 3 years of age. The poet Shackerley
was educated at Thame, and afterwards at Wadham College,
where in 1 624 he took his master of arts degree. Rejoined sir
John Suckling's memorable regiment, and died after a short
illness in 1639. He has left several plays, some of which possess
considerable merit, and has commendatory verses prefixed to
the writings of hit contemporaries. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

399

We want use of a soul, who merely know
What to our passion, or our sense we owe :
By such a hollow glass, our cozen'd eye
Concludes alike, all dead, whom it sees die.
Nature is knowledge here, but unrefin'd,
Both differing, as the body from the mind ;
Laurel and cypress else, had grown together,
And withered without memory to either :
Thus undistinguish'd, might in every part
The sons of earth vie with the sons of art.
Forbid it, holy reverence, to his name,
Whose glory hath fill'd up the book of fame !
Where in fair capitals, free, uncontroll'd,
JONSON, a work of honour lives enroll'd :
Creates that book a work ; adds this far more,
'Tis finished what unperfect was before.
The muses, first in Greece begot, in Rome
Brought forth, our best of poets hath call'dhome,
Nurst, taught, and planted here ; that Thames

now sings

The Delphian altars, and the sacred springs.
By influence of this sovereign, like the spheres,
Moved each by other, the most low (in years)
Consented in their harmony ; though some
Malignantly aspected, overcome
With popular opinion, aim'd at name
More than desert : yet in despight of shame
Even they, though foil'd by his contempt of

wrongs,

Made music to the harshness of their songs.
Drawn to the life of every line and limb,
He (in his truth of art, and that in him)
Lives yet, and will, whilst letters can be read ;
The loss is ours ; now hope of life is dead.
Great men, and worthy of report, must fall
Into their earth, and sleeping there sleep all :

400 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Since he, whose pen in every strain did use
To drop a verse, and every verse a muse,
Is vow'd to heaven ; as having with fair glory,
Sung thanks of honour, or some nobler story.
The court, the university, the heat
Of theatres, with what can else heget
Belief, and admiration, clearly prove
Our POET first in merit, as in love:
Yet if he do not at his full appear,
Survey him in his WORKS, and know him there.

JOHN FORD/

UPON THE
DEATH OF MASTER BEN JONSON.

TTS not secure to be too learn'd, or good,
These arehard names, and now scarce understood:
Dull flagging souls with lower parts, may have
The vain ostents of pride upon their grave,
Cut with some fair inscription, and true cry,
That both the man and Epitaph there lie !
Whilst those that soar above the vulgar pitch,
And are not in their bags, but studies rich,
Must fall without a line, and only be
A theme of wonder, not of poetry.

* John Ford was the second son of Thomas Ford, Esq. of
Bagtor, a hamlet in the parish of Ilsington in Devonshire, wnere
the poet was baptized the 17th April 1589. On the 6th No-
yember 1602, Ford was entered of the Middle Temple, and
while there published " Fame's Memorial, or the earl of Devon-
shire deceased," a poem, 4to 1606. He wrote for the stage as
early as 1613, and as he ceased his dramatic labours in 1639, it
is likely he did not long survive that period. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 401

He that dares praise the eminent, he must
Either be such, or but revile their dust :
And so must we, great Genius of brave verse !
With our injurious zeal profane thy herse.
It is a task above our skill, if we
Presume to mourn our own dead elegy;
Wherein, like bankrupts in the stock of fame,
To patch our credit up, we use thy name;
Or cunningly to make our dross to pass,
Do set a jewel in a foil of brass:
No, 'tis the glory of thy well-known name,
To be eternized, not in verse but fame.
JONSON ! that's weight enough to crown thy

stone :

And make the marble piles to sweat and groan
Under the heavy load ! a name shall stand
Fix'd to thy tomb, till time's destroying hand
Crumble our dust together, and this all
Sink to its grave, at the great funeral.

If some less learned age neglect thy pen,
Eclipse thy flames, and lose the name of BEN,
In spight of ignorance thou must survive
In thy fair progeny ; that shall revive
Thy scattered ashes in the skirts of death,
And to thy fainting name give a new breath;
That twenty ages after, men shall say
(If the world's story reach so long a day,)
Pindar and Plautus with their double quire
Have well translated BEN the English lyre.
What sweets were in the Greek or Latin known,
A natural metaphor has made thine own :
Their lofty language in thy phrase so drest,
And neat conceits in our own tongue exprest,
That ages hence, critics shall question make
Whether the Greeks and Romans English spake.
And though thy fancies were too high for those
That but aspire to Cockpit-flight, or prose,

VOL. ix. D d

402 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Though the fine plush and velvets of the age
Did oft for sixpence damn thee from the stage,
And with their mast and acorn stomachs ran
To the nasty sweepings of thy serving-man,
Before thy cates, and swore thy stronger food,
'Cause not by them digested, was not good;
These moles thy scorn and pity did but raise,
They were as fit to judge as we to praise.
Were all the choice of wit and language shown
In one brave epitaph upon thy stone,
Had learned Donne, Beaumont, and Randolph, all
Surviv'd thy fate, and sung thy funeral,
Their notes had been too low : take this from me,
None but thyself could write a verse for thee.

R. BRIDEOAKE.*

* Ralph son of Richard and Cicely Bridecake, was born at
Chetham Hill near Manchester about 1614. On the 15th July
1630 he was admitted of Brazen Nose College, but removed to
New College, where in 1636 he was created M. A. by royal
mandate. Being patronised by the earl of Derby, he defended
that nobleman's house against tha parliamentary forces ; but the
earl being taken prisoner at the battle of Worcester, Bridecake
plied Lenthai with so much zeal and skill to preserve his pa-
tron^ life that, though he was unsuccessful in his object, he
so interested the Speaker that he was appointed preacher to the
parliament Notwithstanding his acceptance of this office, upon
the restoration be was appointed chaplain to Charles II., in-
stalled canon of Windsor, dean of Salisbury, and ultimately
advanced to the see of Chichester. While in the active discharge
of his episcopal duties he was seized with a fever that hastily
terminated his existence on the 5th October 1678. He was
buried in St. George's Chapel Windsor, where a handsome
monument remains to his memory. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

403

ON

MASTER BEN JONSON.

POET of princes, Prince of poets (we,
If to Apollo, well may pray to thee.)
Give glo\v- worms leave to peep, who till thy night
Could not be seen, we darken'd were with light.
For stars t' appear after the fall of the sun,
Is at the least modest presumption.
I've seen a great lamp lighted by the small
Spark of a flint, found in a field or wall.
Our thinner verse faintly may shadow forth
A dull reflection of thy glorious worth ;
And (like a statue homely fashion'd) raise
Some trophies to thy memory, though not praise.
Those shallow sirs, who want sharp sight to look
On the majestic splendour of thy book.
That rather choose to hear an Archy's prate,
Than the full sense of a learn'd laureat,
May, when they see thy name thus plainly writ,
Admire the solemn measures of thy wit,
And like thy works beyond a gaudy show
Of boards and canvas, wrought by Inigo.
Ploughmen who puzzled are with figures, come
By tallies to the reckoning of a sum ;
And mi Ik- sop heirs, which from their mother's lap
Scarce travell'd, know far countries by a map.
Shakspeare may make grief merry, Beaumont's

style

Ravish and melt anger into a smile;
In winter nights, or after meals they be,
I must confess, very good company :
Dd2

404 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

But thou exact'st our best hours industry ;
We may read them ; we ought to study thee:
Thy scenes are precepts, every verse doth give
Counsel, and teach us not to laugh, but live.

Thou that with towering thoughts presum'st

so high,

(SwelPd with a vain ambitious tympany)
To dream on sceptres, whose brave mischief calls
The blood of kings to their last funerals,
Learn from Sejanus his high fall, to prove
To thy dread sovereign a sacred love ;
Let him suggest a reverend fear to thee,
And may his tragedy thy lecture be.
Learn the compendious age of slippery power
That's built on blood ; and may one little hour
Teach thy bold rashness that it is not safe
To build a kingdom on a Csesar's grave.

Thy plays were whipt anci libel I'd. only 'cause
They are good, and savour of our kingdom's laws.
Histrio-Mastix (lightning like) doth wound
Those things alone that solid are and sound.
Thus guilty men hate justice ; so a glass
Is sometimes broke for shewing a foul face.
There's none that wish thee rods instead of bays,
But such, whose very hate adds to thy praise.

Let scribblers (that write post, and versify
With no more leisure than we cast a dye)
Spur on their Pegasus, and proudly cry,
This verse I made in the twinkling of an eye.
Thou couldst have done so, hadst thou thought

it fit ;

But 'twas the wisdom of thy muse to sit -
And weigh each syllable; suffering nought to pass
But what could be no better than it was.
Those that keep pompous state ne'er go in haste ;
Thou went'st before them all, though not so fast.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 405

While their poor cobweb-stuff finds as quick fate
As birth, and sells like almanacks out of date;
The marble glory of thy labour'd rhyme
Shall live beyond the calendar of time.
Who will their meteors 'bove thy sun advance?
Thine are the works of judgment, theirs of chance.
How this whole kingdom's in thy debt 1 we have
From others periwigs and paints, to save
Our ruin'd sculls and faces ; but to thee
We owe our tongues, and fancies remedy.
Thy poems make us poets ; we may lack
(Reading thy Book) stolen sentences and sack.
He that can but one speech of thine rehearse,
Whether he will or no, must make a verse :
Thus trees give fruit, the kernels of that fruit,
Do bring forth trees, which in more branches

shoot.

Our canting English, of itself alone,
(I had almost said a confusion)
Is now all harmony ; what we did say
Before was tuning only, this is play.
Strangers, who cannot reach thy sense, will throng
To hear us speak the accents of thy tongue
As unto birds that sing ; if't be so good
When heard alone, what is't when understood !
Thou shalt be read as classic authors ; and,
As Greek and Latin, taught in every land.
The cringing Monsieur shall thy language vent,
When he would melt his wench with compliment.
Using thy phrases he may have his wish
Of a coy nun, without an angry pish !
And yet in all thy poems there is shown
Such chastity, that every line's a zone.
Rome will confess that thou mak'st Caesar talk
In greater state and pomp than he could walk :
Catiline's tongue is the true edge of swords,
We now not only hear, but feel his words.

406 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Who Tully in thy idiom understands,
Will swear that his orations are commands.
But that which could with richer language

dress

The highest sense, cannot thy worth express.
Had I thy own invention (which affords
Words above action, matter above words)
To crown thy merits, I should only be
Sumptuously poor, low in hyperbole.

RICHARD WEST.*

TO THE MEMORY OF

BENJAMIN JONSON.

OUR bays, methinks, are withered, and they look
As if (though thunder-free) with envy, strook ;
While the triumphant cypress boasts to be
Design'd, as fitter for thy company.

Where shall we now find one dares boldly write,
Free from base flattery yet as void of spight ?
That grovels not in Js satires, but soars high,
Strikes at the mounting vices, can descry
With his quick eagle's pen those glorious crimes,
That either dazzle, or affright the times ?
Thy strength of judgment oft did thwart the tide
O' the foaming multitude, when to their side

* Richard West, the son of Thomas West of Northampton,
was admitted student of Christ Church, from Westminster §chool
in 1632 ; took his degrees of bachelor and master of arts, and
daring the rebellion joiued the soldiers of his sovereign. At the
restoration he became rector of Shillingston in Dorsetshire, and
prebendary of Wells. He published some sermons, and has " a
Poem to the pious memory of his dear brother-in-law, Mr.
Thomas Randolph/' prefixed to the works of that excellent dra-
matic writer. GILCUEIST,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 407

Throng'd plush, and silken censures, whilst it

chose,
(As that which could distinguish men from

clothes,

Faction from judgment) still to keep thy bays
From the suspicion of a vulgar praise.

But why wrong I thy memory whilst I strive,
In such a verse as mine to keep't alive?
Well we may toil, and shew our wits the rack,
Torture our needy fancies, yet still lack

Worthy expressions thy great loss to moan;
Being none can fully praise thee but thy own.

R. MEADE.'

UPON THE

DEATH OF BENJAMIN JONSON.

LET thine own Sylla, BEN, arise, and try
To teach my thoughts an angry extasy,
That I may fright Contempt, and with just darts
Of fury stick thy palsy in their hearts !

6 Robert Meade was born in Fleet Street in 1616 ; after
receiving the earlier part of his education at Westminster, he
removed to Christ Church Oxford, where he took the degree
of M. A., and afterwards a doctor's degree in physic. When
the rebellion broke out, in common with almost all the poet»
of his day, — he followed the fortunes of his royal and indulgent
master, and was appointed by the governor of Oxford to treat
with the Parliamentary army concerning the surrender of that
city. After the death of the king, he followed Charles II. into
France, and was employed by that monarch "as his agent in
Sweden. Returning into England, he died, in the same house,
it is said, in which he was born, the 12th Feb. 1652. He left
one comedy, " The combat of Love and Friendship," print**!
in 4to. 1654. GILCHRIST.

408 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

But why do I rescue thy name from those
That only cast away their ears in prose?
Or, if some hetter brain arrive so high,
To venture rhymes, 'tis but court balladry,
Singing thy death in such an uncouth tone,
As it had been an execution.
What are his faults (O envy !) — That you speak
English at court, the learned stage acts Greek ?
That Latin he reduced, and could command
That which your Shakspeare scarce could under-
stand ?

That he exposed you, zealots, to make known
Your profanation, and not his own?
That one of such a fervent nose, should be
Posed by a puppet in Divinity ?
Fame write them on his tomb, and let him have
Their accusations for an epitaph :
Nor think it strange if such thy scenes defy,
That erect scaffolds 'gainst authority.
Who now will plot to cozen vice, and tell
The trick and policy of doing well ?
Others may please the stage, his sacred fire
Wise men did rather worship than admire :
His lines did relish mirth, but so severe ;
That as they tickled, they did wound the ear.
Well then, such virtue cannot die, though stones
Loaded with epitaphs do press his bones :
He lives to me ; spite of this martyrdom,
BEN, is the self-same poet in the tomb.
You that can aldermen new wits create,
Know, JONSON'S skeleton is laureat.

H. RAMSAY/

7 H. Ramsay was educated at Christ Church, Oxford, whence,
in 1638, he contributed a poem to the " Musarum Oxoniensium
Charts teria pro serenissima Regina Maria, recens e nixus laborioji
discrimine recepta^ printed in 4to. GiLCHRisr.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 409

En

JONSONUS NOSTER

Lyricorum Drammaticorumque

Coryphaeus

Qui

Pallade auspice

Laurum d Grtecia ipsaque Roma
rapuit,

Et

Fau$to omine

In Britanniam transtulit

nostram :

Nunc

Invidia major

Fato, non JEmulu

cessit.

Anno Dom. CIOCIXXXVII.

Id. Nonar.

FR. WORTLEY,*

Bar.

» Sir Francis Wortley, son of sir Richard Wortley of Wort-
ley in Yorkshire, became a commoner of Magdalen College
(according to Wood) in 1610, and a baronet the year following.
When the parliament took up arms in defiance of the king, sir
Edward fortified Wortley Hall, and defended it for the king's
service. Upon the declining of the royal cause, sir Edward was
made prisoner and committed to the Tower. Compounding for
his release from imprisonment by forfeiting a large portion of
his estate, he became embarrassed with debts. Wood, from
whom this account is taken, has given a list of his writings ;
but professes to be ignorant of the time of sir Edward's death.

GILCHRIST.

410 JONSONUS VIRBIUS

IN OBITUM

BEN JONSONI

POETARUM FACILE PRINCIPJS.

In qua projicior discrimina ? guale trementem
Traxit in officium pietas temeraria musam ?
Me miserum f incusso pert entorf rigor e^ et umbrA
Terr it us ingenti videor parsfoneris ipse
Quod celebro ; J'amce concept a molefatisco,
Exiguumque struts restringuit programs ignem.

Non tamen absistam, nam si spes talibus ausis
Evcidat, extabo laudum JONSONE tuarum
Uberior test is : tot idem quos secula norunt.
Solus tu dignus, cujus prceconia spiret,
Deliquum musarum, et victifacta poet a.

Quis nescit, Romane tuos, in utrdque triumphos
Militia, laurique decus mox sceptra secutum f
Virgilius quoque Ccesar erat, necferre priorem
Noverat : Augustumfato dilatus in <zvum,
Ut regent vatemjactarcs regia, teque
Suspiceres gemino prcdustrem Roma monarcha.

En penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos,
Munerajactantes eadem, similique beatos
Fortuna ; h&c quoque secla suum videre Maronem,
Ctzsarei vixit qui Icetus imagine sceptri,
Implevitque suum Romano carmine nomen.

Utque viam cernas, longosque ad summa paratus ;
En series eadem, vatumque simillimus ordo.
Quis neget incultum Lucreti carmen, et Enni
Deformes numeros, musa incrementa Latince ?

JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

411

Hand aliter nostri pramissa in principis ortum
Ludicra Chauceri, classisque incompta sequentum ;
Nascenti apta parum divina hcec machina regno,
In nostrum servandafuit tantceque decebat
Prcelusisse Deos avi certamina fames ;
Nee geminos vates, nee te Shakspeare silebo,
Aut quicquid sacri nostros covjecit in annos
Consiliumfati : per seros ite nepotes
Illustres animce, demissaque nomina semper
Candidior fama excipiat ; sed par cite divi,
Si major a vacant, si pagina sanctior urget.
Est vobis decor, et natives gratia Musce,
Qua trahit atque tenet, qua me modd l&ta remittit,
Excitum modd in alt a rapit, versatque legentem.

Sed quam te memorem vatum Dem : O nova gentis
Gloria et ignoto turgescem musa cothurno /
Quam solidat vires, quam pingui robore surgens
Invaditque hauritque animam : hand temerarius ille
Qui mos est reliquis, probat obvia, magnaquefundit
Felici tantum genio ; sed destinat ictum,
Sed vajer et sapiens cunctator prcevia sternit,
Furtivoque gradu subvectus in ardua, tandem
Dimittit pleno correptosjulmine sensus.

Hue, precor, accedat quisquis primo igne calentem
Ad numeros sua musa vocat, nondumque subacti
Ingenii novitate tumens in carminajertur
Non norma? legisve memor ; quisferre soluti
Naufragium ingenii poterit, mentisque ruinam ?
Quanta pulchrior hie mediis qui regnat in undis,
Turbine correptus nullo : cui spiritus ingens
Non artem vincit : medio sed verus in astro,
Princeps insano pugnantem numine musam
Edomat, et cudit suspenso metra furore.

In rabiem Caiilina tuam conversus et artes
Qualia molitur ; quail bacchatur hiatu ?
En mugitum oris, conjurat deque Camcence,
Divinasfurias et non imitabilefulmen I

412 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

O verum Ciceronis opus, linguceque disertce
Elogium spirans ! O vox ceterna Catonis,
Ccesaream reseransfraudem, retrahensque sequaces
Patricks in ccedem, et funera certa reorum I
Quisfando expedlat primes solennia pompce,
Et circumfusi studium plaususquc theatri f
Non tu divini Cicero dux inclyte facti,
Romave majores vidit servata triumphos.

Celsior incedis nostro, Sejane, cothurno
Quctm te Romani, quam te tua fata fereb ant :
Hinc magis insigni, cam, cekbrique ruina
Volveris, et gravius terrent evempla theatri.

At tu stas nunquam ruituro in culmine vates,
Despiciens auras, et Jallax numen amid,
Tutus honore tuo, genitceque voluminefamce.
A Capreis verbosa et grandis epistola frustra
Venerat, offenso major fruerere Tonante,
Si sic crevisses, si sic, Sejane, stetisses.
0 fortunatum, qui te, JONSONE, sequutus
Contexit suajila, suique est nominis author.

T. TERRENT.3

5 This poem by Thomas Terrent is a very creditable proof
of his skill in the composition of Latin poetry, in which it should
seem he principally exercised his muse, since we find a similar
tribute prefixed by the same author to the plays and poems of
Thomas Randolph.

Terrent was educated at Christ Church Oxford, where he
took the degree of master of arts, and was tutor of the College.
He is entirely overlooked by Antony Wood, unless he be the
Jerumad Terrent said to be the tutor of Cartwright the poet.
(Athene, % 35,) which seems not unlikely. GILCHRIST.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 413

VATUM PRINCIPI

BEN. JONSONO

SACRUM.

Poet arum Maxime !
Sive tu mortem, sive ecstasin passus,
Jaces verendum et plus quam hominisfunus.

Sic post receptam sacrifuroris gloriam,
Cum exhaustum jam numen decoxit emerita vates
Jugique Jluxu non reditura se prodegit anima,

Jacuit Sibylla cadaver,
Vel trepidis adhuc cultoribus consulendum.
Nulli se longius indulsit Deus, nulli cegrius valedLvit;
Pares testatusflammas,
Dum exul, ac dum incola.
Annorumque jam ingruente vespere,
Pectus tuum, tanquam poeseos horizonta,

Non sine rubore suo reliquit :
Vatibns nonnullls ingentia prodere ; nee scire datur :

Magnum aliis mysterlum^ majus sibi,
Ferarum ritu vaticinantium

Inclusumjactant numen quod nesciunt,

Et instinctu sapiunt non intellecto.
Quibus dum ingenium facit audaciay prodest

ignorare.
Tibi primo contigit furore frui proprio,

Et numen regere tuum.
Dum pari lucta qfflatibus indicium commisisti,

Bis entheatus :
Allasqm musis mutas addidisti, artes etscientias,

414 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Tui plenus poet a.
Quifurorem insanice eximens
Docuisti, et sobrie Aonios latices hauriri.

Primus omnium,
Qui ejfrtenem caloris luxuriem frugi consilio casti-

gaveris,

Ut tandem ingenium sine venid placiturum
Possideret Britannia,
Miraretur or bis,

Nihilque inveniret scriptis tuis donandum, pr&ter
famam.

Qubdprologi igitur

Velut magnatumpropylcea domini titulos profcrunt,
Perpetuumquecelebraturargumentum,ipse author,
Non arrogant is hoc est, sedjudicantis,

Aut vaticinantis,

Virtutis enim illud et yatis est, sibi placere.
Proinde non invidid tantum nostrd, sed laude tud
Magnum te prodirejusserunt fata.
Qui integrum nobis poetam solus exhibuisti,

Unusque omnes exprimens.
Cumfrondes alii laureas decerpunt, tu totum nemus

vindicas,
Nee adulator laudas, nee invidus perstringis :

Utrumque exosus,

Velsacrificiotuo mella, velmedicinceaceturnimmiscere.
Nee intenso nimis spiritu avenam dirupisti,
Nee exill nimis tubam emaculasti ;
Servatis utrinque legibus, kx ipse foetus.
Una obsequii reiigione imperium nactus es :

Rerum servus, non temporum.
Ita omnium musarum amasius,
Omnibus perpetuum certamen astas.

Sit Homeri gloria

Urbes de se certantes habere, de te disputant muses,
Qui seu cothurno niteris, inter poetas tonans pater,
Sive soccum pede complcs rotundo,

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 415

Et epigrammata dictas agenda,
Facetiasque manibus exprimendas,
Adoranda posteris duds vestigia, et nobis unus es

theatrum metari.

Non arena spectacula scena exhibuit tua,
Nee poemata, sedpoesin ipsam parturiit,
Populoque mentes, et leges ministramt,
Quibus te damnare possent, si tu poteras peccare.

Sic et oculos spec t ant i pr test as, et spectacula ;
Scenamquecondis qua legi magis gestiat quam spectari.
Non histrioni suum delitura ingenium,
Alii, queis nullus Apollo, sed Mercurius numen,
Quibus afflatus prastant vinum et amasia,

Truduntque in scenam vitia, morbo poeta.
Quibus musa pagis primisque plaustris apta,
Pramoriturum vati carmen,
Non edunt, sed abortiunt ;
Cui if sum etiam pralum conditorium est,
NovAque lucince fraude in tenebras emittuntur au-
thor es,

Dum poemata sic ut diaria,
Suo tantum anne et regioni effingunt.
Sic quoque Plauti moderni sales,
Ipsi tantum Plant o <rJyxf0w :
Et vernacula nimium Aristophanis facetice
Non extra suum theatrum plausus imitnerunt :

Tu interim

Sacull spiras quoque post futuri genium.
Idemque tuum et or bis theatrum est.
Dum immensum, cumque lectore crescens carmen,

Et perenne unofundis poema verbo,
Tuas tibi gratulamurf&liccs moras !
Quanquam quid moras reprehendimus, quas nostn

Jecit revercntia ?
JEternum scribi debuit quicquid tfternum legi.

Poteras tu solus
Stylo sceptris majore orbem moderari.

416" JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Romce Eritannos subjugavit gladius,

Romam Britannis calamus tuns,
Quam sic vinci gestientem,
Cothurno Angliaco sublimiorem quam suis collibus

cernimus.

Demum quod majus est, tetatem nobis nostram sub-
jicis;

Oraculique vicarius,

Quodjussit Deus, fides pr&stat sacerdos>
Homines seipsos noscere instituens.

Lingua nostra

Tibi collactanea tecum crevit,
Vocesque patrias, et tuas simul formasti.
Nee tndigenam amplius, sed JONSONI jactamus fa-

cundiam,
Ut inde semper tibi contingat tua lingua celebrari ;

Qui et Romam
Disert lores docuisti voces.
Mancipiali denuo iocomate super bient em,

GrcEciamque etiam
Orbis magistram excoluisti,
Nunc alia quam Attica Minerva eloquent em.
Te solo dives pot eras aliorum ingenia contemneret
Et vel sine illis evasisses ingcnii compendium :

Sed ut ille pictor,

Mundo daturus par idea exemplar,
Quas hinc et inde pulchritudines
Sparserat naiuray
Collegit artiftx :

Form&que rivulos palantes in unum cogens oceanum,
Inde exire jussit alteram sine ncevo Fenerem.

Ita tibi parem machinam molito,
In hoc etiam ut pictura erat poesis :
Alii inde author es mat tries ingenio tuo accedunt>
Tu illis ars, et lima adder is.
Et si poet a audient illi, tu ipsa poesis ;
Authorum non alius calamus, sed author.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 417

Scriptores diu sollicitos tcipso tandem docens,
Quern debeat genium habere victurus liber.
Qui pracesserunt, quotquot erant, viarum tantum
judices fuerunt :

Tu solum Columna.

Quaprodest atiis virtus, obstat domino. .
Et qui cceteros emendatius transcripseras,

Ipse transcribe ncscis
Par prioribus congressm, futuris impar,
Scenes Perpetuus Dictator.

ROB. WARING.*

EPITAPHIUM
IN BEN. JONSON.

Adsta, hospes ! pretium mcrce est, sub isto
Quid sit, discere, conditum sepulchro.
Socci delicia ; decus cothurni ;
Scents pompa ; cor et caput thtatri ;
Linguarum sacer helluo ; perennis
Dejluxus venerum ; scatebra salsi
Currens lenejoci, sed innocentis ;
Artis perspicuum jubar ; coruscum

6 Robert Waring, the son of Edward Waring of Lea in
Staffordshire, and of Oldbury in Shropshire, was born in Stafford-
shire in 1613, was elected into Christ Church Oxford from
Westminster school, and took the degree of master of arts. In
1647 he was chosen proctor and historical professor : but, fol-
lowing the loyal example of his companions in taking up arms
for the King, he was ejected by the Parliamentary visitors. He
then travelled into France with sir William Whitmore, " a great
patron of distressed cavaliers," — but returning to England, he
contracted an inveterate disorder which terminated his existence
in 1658. GILCHRIST.

VOL, IX. E C

418 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

Sydus ; judicii pumex, profundus
t)octrmce puttus, tamen serenus ;
Scrip tor um genius ; poeticus dux,
Quantum O sub rigido latet lapillo /

WILLIAM BEW.T
N. Coll. Oxon* soc.

IN OBITUM
BEN. JONSON.

Nee sic excidimus : pars tantiim vilior audit
Imperium Libitlna tuum, calestior urget
JEthereos tractus, mediasque supervolat auras,
Et velut effusum spissa inter nubila lumen
Ingenii strictura micat : foslicior ille,
Quisquis ab hoc victuram actamt lampada Phabo.
Infamulantejaces accendimus, idque severce,
Quod damns alterius vitce, concedimus umbrce.
Sic caput Ismarii, casa cervice, Poeta,
Nescio quid rapido vocale immurmurat Hebro,

7 William Bew was born at Hagborne in Berkshire, and,
after being educated at Winchester school, removed to New
College Oxford, of which he became fellow in 1637, and where
he took his degree as master of arts in 1644. When his rebel-
lious subjects took up arms against the king, Bew joined the
soldiers of his sovereign, and had a majority of horse. Being
chosen proctor for 1648, he was set aside by the parliamentary
visitors, and, being ejected from his fellowship by the same au-
thority, he quitted England and served the Swedes in. their war
against the Poles. Hitherto arms appear to haye been his pro-
fession,— but more peaceable times arriving, with the return of
Charles IL, Bew returned, and, being restored to his fellowship,
he became vicar of Ebberbury in Oxfordshire. On the $2d
June 1679, he was consecrated bishop of Landaff, and died, in
his ninetieth year, on the 10th Feb. 1705. GJICHBISI.

JONSONUS VIRBIUS. 419

Memnonis adverse sic stridit chordula Phcebo,
Datque modos magicos, tenuesque reciprocat auras.
Sea tu grandiloqui torques vagafrcena theatri,
En tibi vox geminis applaudit publica palmis ;
Seujuvat in numeros, palantes cogere voces
Mceonid JONSONE ckeli, te pronus amantum
Prosequitur ccetus, studioso imitamine vatum.
BEN JAM IN i insignis quondam quintuplice ditis
Suffitu me,ns<z, densaque paropside, sedtu
Millena plus parte alios excedis, et auctis
Accumulas dapibusy proprid de dote, placentam.

SAM. EVANS, LL. Bacc.
No. Coll. Oxon. Soc.

IN

BEN. JONSON.

Qudd martes Epico tonat cothurno,

Sive aptat Elegis leves amores,

Stu sales Epigrammatumjocosos

Promit, seu numerosiora plectra

Jungit verba, sibi secundat orsa

Cyrrhaus, nee Hyanti& sorores

Uili dexteriusfavent poetce,

Hoc cum Mceonide sibi et Marone,

Et cum Callimacho, et simul Tibullo

Commune est, aliisque cum trecentis :

Sed quod Angtia quotquot eruditos

J?<zcundo ediderit sin a poet as

Acceptos referat sibi, sua omnes

Hos mdustriafinxerit) labosque

JONSONI, hoc proprium est suumque totum,

Qui Potmatafecit et Poetas.

R. BRIDECAKE.*

* Bishop of Chichester. See p. 402.

EeS

420 JONSONUS VIRBIUS.

WOTS QVVTI Tra^ffpj TTOTWa MoDcra,
Kai Bjoojiu^, xai Eecof, xai Xagmov
otprtroxov Aa£e veoptSi, <nrotipe TS

' a»

Ayvov ^eX^ivoaj <p<Xrpov
' g7r< MaJcra

Awcv» V

H*

[421 ]

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Abbot Antony, v. 361.
acates, v. 201.
accidence, the, v. 204.
accommodate, i. 38.
aconite, iii. 88.
acop, iv 88.
acme, v. 168.

Acts and Monuments, ii. 119.
iii. 354.
Adam, iv. 49.
Adam scrivener, iv. 488.
Adelantado, ii. 194.
Adonis' gardens, ii. 162.
adrop, iv. 69.
advised, v. 226.
j5isop (player), ii. 51O.
jEsculape, viii. 159.
affects, ii. 281.
affront, iv. 51.
Agnes le Clear, iv. 437.
Ajax, iii. 456.

- - viii. 248.
Albumazar, iv. 3.
alchemists (pious) iv. 58.
Aldgate, iii. 35O.
alfarez, v. 376.
Allen Edward, viii. 199.
Allestree Richard, vi. 81.

vi. 124.

Allobroges, iv. 287.
aludel, iv, 6\.

ambitious ears, iii. 184.
amber spoons, iv. 57.
Ambojna, v. 244.
ambre, ii. 349.
Ambree Mary, iii. 433.
amused, iii. 131.
Anabaptist, iii. 396.
anadem, vii. 83.
anenst, iv. 87-
angels, ii. 158.
angel (bird,) vi. 290.
angry boys, iii. 360.

* iv. 106.

Anna, St. vi. 472.
antimasque, vii. 251*
antiperastasis, ii. 371 •
Antonio Balladino, vi. 325.
Antonius, iv. 266.
Apicius, iv. 57.
apperil, v. 137.

- - - vi. 117-

- - - vi. 159.
Apollo (room) v. 229.
apostle spoons, iv. 384.
apprentice at law, vi. 59
apted, ii. 326.
Arcadia, the, ii. 71.

ii. 179.

iv. 479

Arches, iv. 361.
Archy, v. 242.

- - - viii 28

422

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Archbishop of Spalato; v. 247.
Arion, viii, 29
Aristophanes, ii. 19.

- v. 202.

arms, to set up, v. 229.
arms crossed, ii. 18.
arride, ii. 52.

Arundel countess of, vii. 42.

- - - - earl of, vii. 54.
vii. 393.

arsedine, iv. 405.
Arthur o' Bradley, iv. 401.
Arthur's show, vi. 187.
Ashley, sir John, vii. 55.
assay, to take, vi. 270.
athanor, iv. 62.
atone, iii. 454.
attorney, by, iv. 76.
Aubigny, lord, iii. 4.

viii. 281.

lady, viii. 281.

audacious, iii, 385.
Augusta, madam, iv. 46.
Augustus, ii. 486.
Aulularia, v. 218.
Austriac lip, iv. 12O.
authentical, ii. 136.
aunt, iv. 411.

- - vii. 307.
away with, ii. 319.

iv. 400.

B

Baal, v. 241.
babion, ii. 240.
Bacon, lord, viii. 440.
baffle, v, 127-
bagatine, iii. 219.
Baiards, iv. 86.
balloo, iii. 216.
bale of dice, v. 334.
bald coachman, v. 57.

v. 246.

balneum, iv. 61.
Bank-side, ii. 188.
Banks' horse, ii. 152.

Banbury man, iv. 360.

vii, 419.

barbers, ii. 450.
barber of prayers, iii. 397-
Barbican, ix. 39.
barbing gold, iv. 19.
Barlow, Dr. vi. 20.
barmy froth, ii. 519.
barriers, vii. 174.
Bartholomew pig, iv. 398.
Bases, ii. 434.
basket, iv. 19.
bason, iii. 412.
bathing tub, ii. 254.
batten, v. 232.
Battle of Alcazar, ii. 458;
bawson, vi. 278.
bay-leaf, ii. 511.
bay-window, ii. 310.
beans, to throw, iii, 275.
bear-garden, iv. 366.
bear in hand, iii. 174.
bearded jugs, v. 338.
beat bason, v. 410.
beaten knights, iii. 491.
beaver hats, ii. 248.
Beauforts, v. 485.
Beaumont, Francis, viii. 181.

- — - sir John, viii. 335.
Bedford, countess of, vii. 19.
beech coal, iv. 52.
beg for a concealment, i. 107.
beg for a riot, iii. 467.
beg land, ii. 508.
Bellerophon (frag, of), iii. 171
bells, morrice, ii. 5O.
below the salt, ii. 259.
Ben, Antony, viii. 397-
bencher's phrase, i. 103.
benjamin, ii. 246.
berlina, iii. 326.
Bermudas, iv. 429.

v. 429.

viii. 361.

bescurnbers, ii. 520.
besognoso, ii. 342.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

423

best plotter, vi. 327.
Bethlem Gebor, v. 328.
better natures, ii. 545.
Bevil, lady, vii. 2O.
bezoar stone, ii. 191.
Bias, ii. 403.
bid- stand, ii. 147.
biggin, iii. 315.

iii. 417.

bilive, vi. 277.
bilk, to talk, vi. 136.
bills, ii. 291.
bill-men, v. 179.
bindweed, vii. 308,
bird-eyed, iii. 239.
bite nose, ii. 184.
black fellow, ii. S9.
black-guard, ii. 16'9.

iii. 408.

- vii. 250.

black sanctus, viii. 12.
blanks, ii. 142.

v. SO.

blazon arms, ii. 401.

blin, vi. 289.

Blinkinsops, v. 361.

blue waiters, i. 52.

blue order, vi. 338.

blunt, at the, iii. 46O.

Blurt, vi. 158.

board, iv. 221.

Bodin, iii. 267-

Bolanus, ii. 435.

bolted, iv. 65.

bolt-head, iv. 51.

Bombast (Paracelsus) vii. 248.

Bonnefonius, iii. 347-

Bonnibel, iv. 102.

bonny-clabber, v. 330.

Bolton, prior, v. 328.

book-holder, iv. 366.

boot, no, i. 21.

boots, i. 36.

borachio, v. 44.

bordello, i. 17-

Bosoms' inn, vii. 281.

boss, viii. 9.
boud, iv. 221.
bouge, vii. 217.
bouge of court, vii. 428.
bourd, iv. 221.
bovoli, ii. 265.
boy of Burton, v. 134.
boy of Norwich, v. 142.
brache, iv. 19.
Bradamante, iv. 71 •
braggat, vii. 378.
brake, iii. 462.

- - viii. 315.
branched, v. 425.
brave, the, viii. 236.
bravery, i. 11.
braveries, iii. 358.
breast, vii. 412.
breathe upon, ii. 33.
breathe, to, viii. 167»
Bretnor, v. 17.
Breton, Nic. viii. 350.
bride ale, iii. 391.
bride's hair, viii. 311.
bridges, iv. 334.
brief, vi. 233.
brize, ii. 441.
broken beer, vii. 433.
brooch, ii. 406.
Brome, iv. 361.

v. 449.

viii. 355.

Broughton, iii. 213.

iv. 78.

iv. 144.

Brown, W. viii. 343.
Buccleugh, earl of, vii. 355.
Buckingham, marquis, vii.367.

------ marchioness, vii.

385.

- countess, vii. 388.

Bucklersbury, viii. 134.
Budge-row, iv. 376.
bufo, iv. 85.
bulled, vi. 256.
bullions, v. 89.

424

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

bumbard, vii. 217.
Bungay's dog, vi. 166.
Burgallion, i. 110.
Burges, John, viii 447.
Burleigh, lord, viii. 395.
burratines, vii. 300.
burroughs, vi. 177.
Burton, vi. 24.
butt, ii. 183.
butteries, ii. 538.
Butter, Nath. v. 183.
butter, v. 188.
butt-shafts, ii. 369.
by, i. 139.

- ii. 151.

- ii. 509,
buz, v. 231.

cabbages, iii. 205.
Cadiz, iii. 262.
CaBsar, iv. 267-
Caesarian madam, iv. 180.
cake bread, iv. 51*2.
call et, iii. 277-
caliver, iii. 452.
calvered salmon, it* 57.
callot, vi. 30.
Cambden, viii. 159
camel, ii. 149.
camoucio, ii. 281.
camused, vi. 276.
canary, ii. 26.
candour, iv. 192.
can (know), vi. 17.

vi. 214.

Canbury, vi. 194.
candle waster, ii. 277-
cans (to burn) ii. 246.
canter, v. 222,
cant, v. 222.
caps, little* i. 74.
caract, i.74.
caracts, v. 29.
Caranza, i. 35.
carcanets, ii. 315,
cargos, ii. 526.

carp, the, ii.
carpet, iii. 458.

v. 182.

carp's tongue, iv. 56.
Carr, Robert, vii. 239.
carry coals, ii. 179.
Cary, sir Hen. viii. 186.

- - sir Lucius, ix. 6.
Cary, Mrs. viii. 234.
case, ii. 524
cassock, i. 62.
cast, i. 29.
casting glass, ii. 144.
Castor, iv. 236.
catsos, ii. 48.
Catullus, iii. 254;
cautelous, v. 33.
centaurs, ii. 448.
centumviri, ii. 447.
Celia, iii. 254.
ceruse, i. 131.
chain, ii. 32.
chambers, viii. 422.
Chancellor's tomb, ii. 123.

vi. 482.'

Charles I. viii. 453.
charm, iv. 405.
charm your tongue, ii. 23
Chapman, viii. 345.
chartel, i. 37-
cheap (market), ii. 407.
cheat, vii. 433.
cheater, viii. 198.
chevril, ii. 405.
Chichester, lady, vii. 43.
children (of St. Paul's), ii. 226,
Childermas, iv. 432.
china shops, iii. 360.
China-woman, iii. 36O.
china colours, viii. 44.
chioppini, ii. 258.
chorus, iii. 448.

iv. 225.

Christmas vails, iv. 14.
Christmas log, vii. 282.
Christ-tide, iii. 178.
iv. 95.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

4125

chronicles, v. 59.
ciarlitani, iii. 210.
cibation, iv. 21.
Cinnamns, iii. 165.
cimici, vi. 40.
Cipi, iv. 246.
cippus, 7, 377.
circling, iv. 481.
citizen, ii. 418.
cittern, iii. 401.

v. 191.

city wires, iii. 342.

city custard, v. 14.

civil gown, iii. 468.

claims Arthur's seat, vii. 162.

Claridiana, iv. 23.

clap dish, i. 44.

clapper dudgeon, v. 220.

cleft, viii. 134.

cleis, ix. 74.

clem, ii. 4O7-

Clifford, lady Ann, vii, 42.

cloak (for Prol.) ii. 219.

close and open, ii. 309.

clothed senate^ iv. 28,8.

cloth-breech, vi. 144.

cloth- workers* iii. 405.

clout, to hit, v. 310.

clumsy, ii. 519.

clutch, ii. 519.

coach-horse, ii. 292.

.eoals, ii. 168.

Cob, i. 27-

cob, i. 28.

cob-swan, iv. 235.

cock-a-hoop, vi. 226.

cockatrice, ii. 19.

ii. 39.

cock-pit, iii. 241.
cock-shut, vi. 472.
Cock Lorrel, vii. 408.
coffins, v. 209.
Cokely, iv. 447.

- - - v. 13.
cokes, iv. 428.

- - vi. 401.

Coke, sir Edw. viii, 430.

Colby, viii. 373.
Cole, old, iv. 509.
Cole harbour, iii. 388.
colliers, ii. 168.
colours, mistress's, ii. 33.

ii. 327.

come off, ii. 161.

- - - - vi. 138.
coming, iii. 229,

- - - iv. 262k
comfortable bread> iv. 419.
commodity, iv. 109.
communicate, iii. 64.
compliments ii. 30,

ii. 336.

v. 91.

concealment,!. 1O7.
conceited, i. 71.

iii. 27.

concert, iii. 241.
concluded, ii. 493.
Conde Olivares, v. 418.
condition, ii. 17.
conduct, ii. 74.
coney-catching, i. 70.
confederacy, iv. 379.
confute, v. 143.
connive, ii. 30O.
control the point, i. 124.
convert, ii. 236.
convince, iv. 376.
Constable, Hen. viii. 390.
constables (tedious), ii. 265.
Contarene, iii. 268.
cook, viii. 26.
copeman, iii. 253.
Cophetua, king, i. 84.
copy, ii. 63 *

- - ii. 102.

- - iii. 327.

- - iv. 7.

Corbet, Vincent, viii. 326.
Coriat, iv. 447»
Coriat's trunk, vii. 216.
Cornelius Agrippa, ii. 137«
corn-hoarders, ii. 121,
corn-cutter, iv. 415.

426

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Corydon, i. 40.

cormorants (servants), ii. 168.
costermonger, iv. 120.
costs (ribs), v. 239.
cosset, iv. 392.
cothurnal, ii. 518.
cotquean, ii. 482.
counsel, ii. 271.
counterfeit, i. 62.

vi. 77.

----- viii. 430.
countenance, ii. 111.

iv. 14.

counterpanes, iv. 367.
counters, iv. 15.
court-dish, v. 380.
Coventry blue, vii. 405.
Covell lady, viii. 448.
coystrel, i. 105.
Cox, capt. viii. 55.
crack, ii. 25.

v. 72.

cracked in the ring, vi. 76.
crambo, v. 336.
cramp, iii. 292.
cramp-ring, vii. 377.
Cranborne, lady, vii. 158.
Cranfield, lord, vii. 392.
cranion legs, iv. 393 .
credit, to make, iii. 475.
Cremutius Cordus, iii. 78.
ere well, iv. 22.
cricket, to hold, vi. 43.
Cripplegate, ii. 15.
Cri-spinas, ii. 418.
Crispinus, ii. 461.
Crites, ii. 242,
croakers, iii. 279.
cross, i. 134.
cross out ill days, iv. 43
crost, ii. 435.
crow, iv. 53.
crowd, ii. 281.
cry Italian, iii. 207.
cuban ebolition, ii. 97-
cucking-stool, iv. 424.
cullison, ii. 36.

cullison, vi. 394.
cunning, ii. 424.
cunning man, iii. 245.
cupboard, iii. 203.
curst a while, iv. 42 1 .
Custard politic, v. 208.
Cynthia, ii. 423.
cypres, vi. 379.
Cyparissus, vi. 469.
Cyprus, i. 25.

Dacus, iv. 360.

dagger (in the nose), ii. 51

Dagger tavern, iv. 24.

iv. 174.

Dagonet, ii. 146.
Daniel, i. 155.

iii. 370.

v. 250.

viii. 205.

278.

Darrel, v. 134.

viii. 438.

Dargison, vi. 210.
daw, v. 117-

D'aubigny, lord, vii. 109.
Davy, iv. 362.
Davis, viii. 161.
Dauphin my boy, iv. 522.
decimo-sexto, ii. 232.
Decker, ii. 520.
decline, iii. 116.
Dee, Dr. iv. 87-
deft, ii. 514.
delate, iii. 227.
Dele, vii. 253.
Demetrius, ii. 461.
depart, ii. 159.
dependence, i. 37-

v. 124.

Derby, countess of, vii. 19.
Desmore, earl of, viii. 385.
devant, ii. 347.
device, ii. 367-

vi. 184.

Devil of Edmonton, v. 4.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

427

Devil of Edmonton, v. 199
devil (of the play) v. 197.
Devil tavern, ix 84.
diameter, iv. 107«
diapason, ii 35O.
dibble, iv. 414.
Dick Tator, vi. 188.
diffused, ii. 282.
Digby, lady, ix. 46.

ix. 63.

Digby, sir Kenelm, ix. 47.
dimension, v. 380.
ding, iv. 182.
discoloured, ii. 360.
disclaim in, iii. 264.
dislike, ii 81.
discipline, iii 482.

iv. 92.

discipline, beauteous, iv. 396.
disparagement, iv. 459.
disple, iii. 276.
distance of hum, v. 274.
distaste, v. S3.
do withal, iii. 470.
dock, iv. ISO.
doctrines, old, iii. 177.
doctrines, vi. 55.
dog-killers, iv. 403.
dog the fashion, ii. 165.
dole, of faces, iii. 223.
dole beer, iv. 14.
Don John, iv. 132.
Doni, iii. 442.
Donne Dr. viii. 205.

viii. 164.

dop, ii. 344.
dopper, v. 241.

vii. 358.

dor, to, i. 132.

ii. 328.

dor, ii. 280.

dor, to give the, iii. 400.
dotes, iii. 377.
dotterel, v. 52.

v. 120.

double clokes, v. 96.

double reader, vi. 81.
Dousabel, iv. 102.
Drake's ship, i. 35.
Drayton, viii. 338.

viii. 342.

drink tobacco, i. 67.
drink dissolved pearl, ii. 37.
drone a pipe, ii. 139.

- - iii. 424.

drowned land, v. 41.
Drummond, viii, 322.
Dryden. iii, 496.

viii. 334.

dry foot, i. 53.
dudgeon, v. 221.
duello, iv. 107.
dukes, v. 47.

Dun's in the mire, vii. 282.
Dunstan's tavern, v. 167.
Durindana, i. 69.
D'urfe, v. 394.

eagle, Catiline's, iv. 272.

Earine, vi. 265.

eaters, iii. 4O8.

Echo, ii. 235.

Edmonds, Clement, viii. 222.

Effingham, lady, vii. 20.

Egerton, lord chancellor, viii.

191.

eggs on the spit, i. 95.
elder tree, ii. 14S.
Elesmere, lord, viii. 396.
Elements of Armory, v. 204.
elephant, ii. 152.
Elizabeth, coun. of Rutland,
viii. 194.

viii. 275.

Elizabeth, L. H. viii. 223.
Eltham, iii, 480.
Eltham thing, viii. 209.
emissary eyes, viii. 313.
enfant perdu, ii 207.
enghles, ii. 224.

- - - - ii. 400.

428

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

enghles, it. 429.
England's joy, vii. 214.

^ - vii. 432.

English palej vii. 238.
enginers, iv. 281.
enginous, ii. 281.
ens, ii. 16.
entries, vi. 255.
envoy, iii. 478,

- - - viii. 414.

envy (ill will), iv. 318.
envy, v. 64.
epitasis, ii. 122.
equivocal generation, iv. 68.

vi. 70.

equivokes, v. 87-
Erskine, vii. 1O9.
Essex* countess of, vii. 158.
Euphorbus, iii. 176.
Euphues, ii. 205.
euripus, ii. 97-
Eustathius, ii. 267.
exampless, iii. 59.
Excalibur, i. 69.
exchange time, i. 75.
Exeter, countess of, vii. 387.
exhale, ii. 444.
exhibition, ii. SO.

* . . * . ii. 402.
----- iii. 395.

expiate, viii. 431.
eye-bright, iv. 164.

faces about, i. 63.
fading, vii. 240.

viii. 209.

fagioli, ii. 265.
fairies, ii. 212.
faies, vii. 193.
fairy favours, iii. 476.
faithful, iv. 46.
faithful brother, iv. 81.
falls, iv. 77.
falser, vii. 10O.
familiar, ii. 194.

far-fet, ii. 291.

far side of Tiber, ii. 436.

farce, to, ii. 189.

fart, the, iv. 55.

fast and loose, iii. 275.

fasting days, i. 84.

fat fofks, iv. 412.

faun, ii. 499.

Fauns, iv. 235.

Favonius, vii. 306.

fayles, i. 77-

fear, i. 99.

feather, ii. 444.

feather-dealers, iv. 20.

iv. 534.

feeders, iii. 408.
feize, iv. ISS.
fennel, vi. 137.
Fenner, vii. 432.
fere, iii. 386.
Ferabosco, A. viii. 237.
fermentation, iv. 2 1 .
fern seed, ii. 137.
fewmets, vi. 255.
fewterer, ii. 64.
fico, i. 51.
fierce, ii. 512.
figgum, v. 153.
figments, ii. 141.

ii. 243.

Filmer, Ed. viii. 354
fineness, v. 83.
Finsbury, i. 1O.
fishmonger, vii. 277-
fishmonger's slaves, v. 213,
Fiske, v. 17.
fittons, ii. 243.
five for one, ii. 73.
flap-dragons, ii. 379.
flat-cap, i. 45.
flawns, vi. 273.
flea-bitten horse, iv. 482.
Fleet-street, ii. 66.

iii. 308.

flies (familiars), iv. 9-
flights, ii. 370.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

429

foist, i, 113.

- - iv 152.
foists, iii. £64-
fool, to beg, ii. 104.
fools, vi. 273.
fool's coat, ii. 94.

fool of the play, v. 197.
fool up, v. 177.
foot-cloth, vi. 394.
fond, ii. 2O.
for the heavens, ii. 68.

vi. 333.

for failing, iv. 181.
Foreman, Dr. iii. 428.

v. 17.

forespeak, ii. 275.

v. 230.

foreslow, ii. 2ol.
foretop, ii. 95.
forks, iii. 267.

- - v. 137.
forsooth, ii. 467-

vi. 496.

fortunate Isles, ii. 162.

Fortune (play-house), ii. 45.

fox, iv . 429.

fox, vi H.

frail, iii. 306.

Franklin, v. 17.

f rapier, ii. 313.

fraying, vi. 255.

French crown, ii. 54.

French dressing, i. 93.

French Hercules, iii. 280.

frc^h 'mushroom, iii. 383.

friday, ii. 197.

frippery, i. 15.

frolic K, ii. 73.

frohcks, v. 72.

Fuliain, ii. 111.

full stage, ii. 75.

Fuivia, iv. 230.

Fuscus A list, ii. 243.

G

galley-foist, iii, 334.
Gallo-belgicus, ii. 530.

Gamaliel Ratsay, iv. 17.

Gamage, viii. 253.

Gargaphie, ii. 234.

Garrard, lady, vii. 43.

garters, vi. 62.

gazette, iii. 217.

geance, vi. 166.

geese, iv. 266.

gentleman *(to write like), v.

273.

George Stone, iii. 395.
German ciock, iii. 432.
Gemonies, Hi. 105.
get-penny, iv. 5O3.
Ghibellines, iii. 448.
giglot, iii. 124.
Gill, vi. 122.
gilt nutmeg, vii. 404.
ging, iv. 161.
gingle spurs, ii. 6.
girdle of Venus, vii. 228.
girdle, poetical, 'ii. 298.
girds, iii. 186.
give law, vi. 296.
give (in heraldry), ii. 509.
give words, iii. 193.

glass, made at Venice, iii. 172,

glass (beryl), iv. 17.

gleek, v, 2b9.

glibbery, ii. 518.

glkks, ii. 380.

glidder, v. 110.

globe, iv. 227.

Globe (play-house), ii. 455.

gloriously, ii. 69.

go by, i. 34.

go less, iii. 246.

god's gift, iv. 103.

G — make you rich, iv. 175.
vii. 219,

God s blessing, v. 50.

G — to pay, viii. 60.
_ viii. 158.

godfathers, in law, v. 139.

gold-^nd man, iv. 79.

gold weights, v. 3<>0,

golls, ii. v. 14.

430

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Gondomar, v. 248.

viii. 426.

Gonswart, iii. 214.
good man, v. 76.
Good Fortune, v. 50.
good shame, iv. 263.
good time, i. 25.
Goodyere, sir H. viii. 196.
goose-green starch, iv. 415.
gossip, iii. 217.
gowk, vi. 75.
gown, Serjeant's, 142,
Gowry, vii. 417-
Grand Scourge, ii. 64.
grasshoppers, ii. 543.
grasshoppers, by the wing, iii.

239.

Grecians, live like, iii. 261.
Green's works, ii. 71.
Greene, iii. 443.
green-goose fair, ii. 451.
Gregory Christmas, vii. 274.
Gresham, v. 17.
gripe, iv. 61.
grice, vi.278.

Groat's worth of wit, iii. 443.
Gross, v. 339.
groundlings, iv. 366.
Guarini, iii. 242.
Guelphs, iii. 448.
Guildford lady, vii. 42.
gulch, ii. 452.
gull, i. 13.
Gyges* ring. ii. 137-
gyre, vi. 473.

H

hair, red, ii. 424.
hair, short, ii. 13.
hair bracelet, ii. 149.
half-way tree, viii. 199.
Haliclyon, viii. 35.
hall, a hall ! vi. 235.
Hamilton, lord, vii. 395.
hanger, i. 36.
- - - ii. 154.

happy (rich), ii. 404.
happy genius, iii. 6.
harlot, iii. 312.
Harpocrates, iii. 366.
harper, vii. 404.
harrot, i. 28.
Harry Nicholas, iv. 187.
Harrington, v. 44.

vi. 48.

hart of ten, vi. 254.

vii. 390.

Hatton, lady, vii. 42.

sir Christ, vi. 480.

havings, i. 30.

hawking, i. 9.

hay! i. 119.

hay on horns, ii. 474.

hay, iv. 64.

Hay, sir James, vii. 45.

Hayden, viii. 24 J.

hear ill, iii. 161.

- - - - iv. 468.
iv. 32 1 .

hear well, iv. 13.

- - - - vii. 219.
Heaven (ale-house), iv. 174.
Hebrew, iv. 82.

Hecate, vi. 282.

vii. 124.

heifer, iii. 387.
Heliodorus, v. 394.

vi. 267.

Heliogabalus, iii. 257-
hell ^an old house), iv. 174.
Herbert, sir Edw. viii. 217-
Herbert, lady, vii, ]<).
Hercules' cup, vii. 318.
Hercules, words of, ii. 13.
Hermes' seal, iv. 64.
Hermogenes, ii. 428.
herring, i. 27.
Heywood, John, vi. 221.
hieroglyphics, iv. 88.
Higginbottom, i. 55.
high man, ii. 111.
Hill, Nic. viii, 245.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

431

hilled, vii. 26.

Hippias, viii. 28.

ho ! ho ! v. 7.

hobby horse, ii. 5O.

hoiden, vi. 171.

hold thee, iv. 347.

hold that will away, iv. 394.

Hoiden, ii. 149.

Holland, Isaac, iv. 32.

John, iv. 32.

Hollow coal, iv. 16.
hollow dye, iv. 45.
Holmby, vi. 48O.
Horace, ii. 490.
horned flood, iii. 253.
horns, iii. 285.
horn thumb, iv. 433.
horse, sir Be vis', i. 83.
horse bread,
horse courser, iv. 369.
hospital Christs', i. 41.
hospital, v. 40O.
hot and moist, ii. 175.
hot-house, ii. 48.

viii. 156.

house your head, ii. J 10.
houses of Zodiac, viii. 65.
Howard, sir Tho. vii. 54.
Howard, earl marshal, vii. 393.
Howard, lady, vii. 2O.
Howe, iii. 389.
Howleglass, ii. 452.

iv. 6O.

Hudson, Jeff. viii. 106.
huh! huh! iv. 438.
hum, v. 16.

- - v. 273.

- - vii. 241.
humour, i. 82.

ii. 16.

humorous, ii. 237-
hunt at force, vi. 269.
hunt change, vi. 269.
Huntingdon, c. of, vii. 358.
Kurd, vii. 30O.
hybrid, v. 365.

ides. iv. 300.
idle, iii. 114.
ill-days, iv. 43.
ill-sprite, viii. 162.
imbibition, iv. 63.
imbrocato, i. 121.
impart, ii. 110.
imparters, ii. 9.
im potently, v. 345.
in-and-in, v. 325.
inceration, iv. 64.
inchastitee,-i. 139.
incony, vi. 2O1.
incubus, ii. 518.
indent, v. 209.
Indian fig-tree, viii. SO.
infanta, v. 23O.
ingenuity, ii. 126.
ingine, i. 153.
ingle, iii, 444.
inhabitable, iv. 325.
Iiiigo Jones, iv. 405.

iv. 447.

vi. 23O.

vii. 153.

vii. 131.

viii. 113.

innocent, iii. 343.

iii. 406.

instructed, iii. 438.
insula paulina, ii. 1O5.
intention, ii. 251.
intend, ii. 327.
interessed, iii. 71.
interloping, vi. 202.
Irish rats, ii. 456.
Irish costarmonger, iv. 120.
Irish penance, v. 131.
irpe, ii. 288.

- - ii, 379.
invincibly, i. 31.
island voyage, iii. 362.
Islop, abbot, v. 328.

Italian, the, viii. 227.

432

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Italian manner, ii. 248.
Italy (diseases of), ii. 439.

Jacob's staff, ii. 5.

James I. vii. 140.

viii. 154.

- - - - viii. 170.

- - - - viii. 178.
Jason's helm, iv. 51.
jeerers, v. 254.
jeering, v. 263.
Jeronymo, i. 34.

ii. 228.

ii. 456.

jewel, vi. 475.

jewels in the ear, i. 135.

ii. 20.

jig, ii. 58.

- iii, 296.

jig the cock, ii. 296.
Jonson's club, v. 254.
Jonson's son, viii. 175.
Jonson's songs, vi. 266.
Jophiel, viii. 65.
jug, bearded, v. 338,
Julius Caesar, v. 164.
Julian de Campis, viii. 68.
juniper, ii. 6.
juniper, to burn, ii. 271.
justice hall, v. 147-
justice Silence, ii. 173.
Juvenal, iii. 366.

K

Kelly, iv. 122,
Kemp's shoes, ii. 1£5.
Kennethie, sir John, vii. 109.
Kestril, iii. 447-
kind, iii. 25.

- - v. 49.
kindlieart, iv. 362.
King's-head (tavern), vi. 67-
kirtle, ii. 260.
Kit Callot, vii. 379.
knack with fingers, iii. 355

knights, iv. 57.
Knipperdoling, iv. 83.
knitting cup, vi. 82.
Kyd, viii. 330.

laced mutton, viii. 32.
lade me, v. 24.
Lady o' the Lake, vii. 162,
laid, iii. 2b6.
Lamb, Dr. v. 198.
Lancashire, v. 9.
lance knight, i. 53.
Lancelot, sir, ii. 63.
Lanier, Nic. vii. 290,
lapwing, ii. 492.

iii. 141.

lares, ii. 477-

lattice, i. 96.

laughter, iii. ISO.

laundring gold, iv. 19.

law, ii, 404.

lawyer, ii. 410,

leaguer, v. 80.

leer, iv. 369.

leer drunkards, v. 421.

leer side, vi. 143.

leese, ii. 172.

left handed cries, iii. 408.

leg, to make, v. 1 17,

Leges Convivales, ix. 82,

leiger, ii. 139.

lemma, ii. 544.

Lempster ore, vii. 342.

Lenox, duke of, vii. 109.

Lepanto, battle of, ii. 21)3.

letter of Tiberius, iii. 143.

lettuce, iii. 303.

level coil, vi. 185.

lewd, iii. 208.

- - v. 144.
Lexiphanes, ii. 529.
Lex Remnia, ii. 515.
leystals, i. 59.
Libanius, iii. 351.
liberality of Jonson, vii. 153

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

433

license for fencing, ii. 333.

lick away moths, iii. 232.

lie in lavender, ii. 96.

lifting, ii. 231.

lightly, ii. 255.

lightly, iii. 245.

like (to please), ii. 81.

v. 5.

Lily, viii. 330.
limmer, vi. 279.
Lindabrides, ii, 286.
lions, to see, iv. 134.
lion whelped, iii. 202.
Lipsius' fly, v. 377.
little legs, ii. 96.

ii. 417-

loggats, vi. 218.
Lollia Paulina, iii. 256.
London bridge, v. 215.
Longus, vi. 267.
long stocking, ii. 438.
look, iv. ISO.
lord of liberty, ii. 3.
lord's room, ii. 69.
Lothbury, iv. 47,

vii. 419.

love lock, iii. 463.

Lucy, countess of Bedford, viii

192.

Ludgathians, ii. 35.
Lullianist, iv. 81.
Lully, iii. 214.
luna, iv. 21.
lungs, iv. 46.

lurch o' the garland, iii. 495.
Lusty Juventus, v. 10.
luxury, viii. 274.

M

Mab, vi. 471.
mace (serjeant's), i. 142.
made (prepared), iii. 45.

iii. 228.

iii. 284.

magnificate, ii. 519.
VOL. IX.

maintenance, v. 298.
make, to, i. 145.
maker, ii. 114.
make legs, iii. 231.
make on, iv. 255.
makes, v. 328.

viii. 60.

mallanders, iv. 426.
Mammon, iv. 126.
mammothrept, ii. 312.
man with beard (jug), iv. 489.
man of mark, vi. 184.
mangonize, ii. 459.
mankind, iii. 488.
maniples, vi. 28.
maple face, vi. 156.
marchpane, ii. 295.
Maries, iv. 112.
mark, vi. 89.
Mark's St. iii. 183.
Marlow, i. 104.

viii. 330.

marrows, vii. 406.
Marsh Lambeth, viii. 157-
Marston, ii. 517-
Martin, sir Hen. ii. 388.
Mary Ambree, iii. 433.

- vi. 143.

viii. 78.

marry gip ! iv. 39O.
Mass Stone, iii. 204.
master's side, ii. 193.

- - ii. 197.

master of the sentences, v. 394.

mastery, iv. 125.

material, ii. 502.

maund, v. 222.

mauther, iv. 152.

mayday, iii. 434.

May, Thomas, viii. 347-

measure, ii. 290.

vii. 206.

meath, v. 16.
Mecamas, v. 438.
Medea, ii. 399.
Medley's (ordinary), v. 167.

Ff

434

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

mediterranee, iv. 94.
meet with, iv. 411.
Meg of Westminster, viii. 78.
melancholy, i. 67-
melicotton. iv. 877.
Meliadus, vii. 167.
Memnon's statue, v. 253.
men, seemed, i. 116.
merchant (banker), ii. 73.
mercurial washes, ii. 475.
Mercurius Britannicus, v. 186.
Merlin, vii. 165.

vii. 347.

Mermaid, viii. 213.

metre, i. 101.
Middlesex jury, v. 8,

middling gossip, v. 37-

migniardise, v. 234.

Mile-end, i. 119.

milk of unicorns, iii. 257.

Milvian bridge, iv. 321.

mirror in hat, ii. 263.

misrule, lord of, viii. 4.

miscalculations, i. 122.

mist of perfumes, vii. 80.

mistake away, iv. 409.

Mitre (tavern), ii. 181.

mixen, vi. 176.

moccinigo, iii. 218.

modern, ii. 518.

monopolies, ii. 512.

Monsieur, ii. 28.

Montgomery, earl of, vii. 54.

month's mind, vi. 55.

moonling, v. 35.

Moor, the, ii. 458.

more stricter, ii. 14.

Morglay, i. 69.

Morison, sir Hen. ix. 4.

morris dancers, ii. 50
vii. 397-

mortmal, vi. 289.

moths, ii. 492.

mot, motte, i. 103.

motions (puppets), ii. 7-
ii. 252,

motions (puppets), vi. 236.
motions (of a clock), ii. 47.
motley, i. 52.

ii. 246.

viii. 180.

mound, ii. 364.
Mounteagle, lord, viii. 183.
mournival, v. 289.
much ! i. 117.

ii. 44.

iii. 279.

vi. 365.

muckinder, vi. 176.

mule, ii. 61.

mullets, ii. 346.

mumchance, iv. 472.

Muscovy glass, v. 4.

musket rest, i. 62.

muss (mouse), i. 49.

muss, iv. 472.

Mycillus, iii. 177.

myrobolane, iv. 129.

N

name of things, iv. 350.
napkins, ii. 50.
nativity pie, iii. J78.
neck verse, ii. 221.
Ned Whiting, iii. 395.
neophyte, ii. 183.
Neapolitan lawyers, iii. 295.
nephew, iv. 245.

iv. 275.

- - — vii. 445.
nest of antiques, iv. 370.
Neville, lady, vii. 43.
Neville, sir Henry, viii. 220.
Newcastle, earl of, viii. 444.

ix. 17.

new disease, i. 50.
New Exchange, iii. 358.
new fellow, iv. 233.
neuf, ii. 455.
niaise, v. 29.
nick, viii. 47.
Nicotian, i. 89.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

435

night crow, iii. 408.
Nineveh, ii. 19.

- - - - ii. 66.

noble, vi. 89.
noblesse, viii. 215,
noise of fidlers, iii.
noises, iii. 418.

vi. 145.

no man to, i. 77.
Nomentack, iii. 470.
nonce, for the, iii. 218.
noon of night, iii. 13O.
Norton, iv" 185.
not-head, vii. 361.
nought, to be, vi. 160.
nullifidian, ii. 347.
nupson, i. 117-

- - - v. 53.

O

Oath, legal, i. 79.
oaths, i. 9.
oade, ii. 415.
obarni, v. 16.

vii. 240.

obsession, iii. 320.
odling, ii. 8.
oes, vii. 76.
oil of talc, iv. 94.

viii. 266.

old doctrine, iii. 177-

once, ii. 549.

oracle of the bottle,

ore of Lempster, vii. 342.

O liana, vi. 474.

orient, iii. 195.

Ostend, iii. 425.

osteria, Hi. 226.

Otter's cups, iii. 429.

outcry, iv. 242.

Outis, viii. 68.

outrecuidance, ii. 329.

Overbury, sir Tho. viii. 224.

Ovid, iii. 422.

Ovid banished, ii. 487-

Owlspiegle, vi. 28O.

Ff2

pages, v. 333.
Pagginton's pound, iv. 451
paint, to, v. 65.
painting posts, ii. 246.
pair of cards, vii. 279.
palm, ii. 522.
pan, v. 43.
paned slops, ii. 307.
Pantobalus, ii. 453.
pantalone, iii. 220.
panther's breath, ii. 351.

iii. 257.

Paplewick, vi. 292.
Paracelsus, iii. 214.

- iv. 71.

parallel, iii. 65.
parcel, ii. 526.
parget, iii. 474.
pargetting, ii. 380.
parlous, iv, 77.
parted, ii. 5.

- - - ii. 122.
partrich, Hi. 285.
passage, vii. 31.
passive, i. 150.
patoun, ii. 139.
patrico, iv. 433.
patronage, iv. 239.
Paul's, ii. 8.
pavin, iv. 138.
Pavy, Sal, viii. 229.
Pawlet, lady, ix. 54.
peace and pease, ii. 133.
peacock's tail, iv. 53.
pease, vi. 91.

pedant, ii. 255,

- - - ii. 289.
pedarii, Hi. 16.
peel, iv. 437.
Pembroke, lord, iv. 195.

vii. 391.

Pembroke, lady, viii. 337-
Pennant, vii. 331.
pencil beard, ii. 313.

436

GLOSSAR1AL INDEX.

Penelope, iii. 425.
penny almanac, ii. 42.
Penshurst, viii. 251.
Pepper (race-horse), iii. 345.
periphrasis (of a fool), ii. 38.
perpetuana, ii. 278.
perspicil, v. 171-
persway, iv. 428.
pestilence, ii. 437-
pestling, iii, 403.
Peter, lady, vii. 42.
petition (of rights), vi. 64.
Petrarch, iii. 242.
Petreius, iv. 319.
petronel, iii. 452.
phere, iii. 386.
Philostratus, viii. 268.
philosopher's wheel, iv. 62.
Phlegen, i. 154.
Phoenix (tavern), v. 167-
Phormus, ii. 22.
picardil, v. 55.
Pict-hatch, i. J7-

ii. 8.

iv. 48.

viii. 157.

pick tooths, ii. 133 .
pictures for ballads, iv. 450.
pieces, v. 82.
piece, vi. 89.

pie-poudre court, iv. 403.
Pie, sir Robert, viii. 449.
pigmies, vii 320.
Pigeons, the, iv. 177.
pilchers, ii. 445.
Pimlico, iv 164.
Pindaric Ode, ix. 7.
pinnace, iv. 408.
Piso, iv.271-
plague, iii. 344.
plaise-mouth, iii. 4O6.
planet-struck, i. 124.
plants (feet), vii. 194.
Plat, sir Hugh, viii. 399.
plays, historical, v. 59.
Playwright, viii. 211.

plover, iv. 491.

plough with my heifer, v. 337,

plumed swan, iv. 53.

Pod, ii. 148. *

- - iv. 302.

- - viii. 2O9.
poet ape, viii. 181.
poetry, art of, ix. 7O.
poetry, defence of, i. 157.
points, v. 431.
point-devise, vi. 192.
Pokahonta, v. 227.
Pole, ii. 165.
polt-foot, ii. 489.

vii. 248.

pomander chains, ii. 53.
pommado. ii. 254.
pond (Smithfield), iv. 424.
popular, ii. 31.
porpoises, to see, iii. 145.
Porta, viii. 203.
portague, iv. 42.
portcullis, ii. 113.
porter (great), vi. 62.
porter's lodge, vii. 434.
Portland, earl of, ix. 44.
possess, i. 33.

i. 113.

possession, iii. 320.

iii. 451.

post and pair, vii. 278.
practice, iii. 322.

iv. 285.

precise, iii. 369.
precisianism, ii. 145.
predominant, ii. 95.
present, v. 99.
prest, ii. 339.
prevent, iv. 59.
prickles, viii. 44.
prime, viii. 224.
primero, ii 31.

iii. 246.

Prince Henry, vii. 170.
print, in, ii. 82.
private, iv. 267.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

437

proctors, i. 44.
progress, iii. 370.
projection, iv. 51.
prologue, armed, ii. 394.
proper, ii. 143.

ii. 173.

properties, iv. 251.
protest, i. 24.

ii. 171.

Proteus, viii. 27.
provost, i. 70.

provost (in fencing), ii.339.
provide, iii. 144.
providing, iii. 176.
Prynne, vi. 24.

vi. 73.

Puck, vi. 292.
puckfist, ii. 37.

- - - - ii. 507.
pudding tobacco, ii. 259.
puff-wings, ii. 466.
puffin, iv. 115.
pulpamenta, ii. 207.
punk, iv. 408.
punk devise, iv. 169.
Puppy (race-horse), iii. 345.
Purbeck, lady, vii. 389.
purchase, iv. 159.

v. 91.

pur-chops, vii. 278.
pur-dogs, vii. 278.
pure, the, iv. 55.
puritans, iv. 82.
pure laundresses, ii. 466.
purl, viii. 314.
pursenet, iii. 402.
put out on return, ii. 72.
pyrgus, ii. 445.
Pythagoras, iii. 176.

- iii. 366.

vii. 355.

Pythagoras' glass, vii.. .15.

quaking custard, ii. 529.

iii. 168.

quail, iv. 491.
quar, vi. 29.
queasy, iii. 18.
Queen Anne, vii. 381.
quested, vii. 403.
quiblins, iv. 158.
quickset beard, ii. 199.
quinquennium, vii. 372.
quintain, viii. 152.
quodling, iv. 23.
quote, iii. 201.

Rabelais, iv. 11.

Radcliffe, sir John, viii. 204.

Margaret, viii. 172.

ragioni di stato, ii. 245.
rake up, iii. 163.
Ram alley, v. 212.
ramp, ii. 514.
rash, to, ii. 153.
ratsbane, i. 91.
raw rochet, iii. 251.
ray, vi. 276.
ready, to make, i. 35.
real, ii. 45.
rebate, ii. 291.
receit reciprocal, ii. 139.
red letters, iv. 17.
reed, iv. 297-
reformado, i. 86.
regiment, v. 374.
register, iv. 60.
relief, vi. 294.
religion, ii. 374.
religious, iv. 269.
remora, ii. 442.
render the face, ii. 241.
reprove, i. 88.
resiant, iv. 310.
resolve, i. 34.

i. 79.

resolve, vi. 399.

438

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

resolved, v. 68.
respectively, ii. 137-
rest of a musket, i. 62.
... ii. 142.

retrieve, v. 235.
return, to deal on, ii. 5.
revels, ii. 116.

ii. 174.

vii. 294.

reverence, vi. 149.

re vie, i. 116.

rheam, i. 82.

rhinocerote nose, yiii. 168.

ribite, v. 8.

Rich, lady, vii. 19.

Rich, sir Robert, vii. 109.

Riddle, vii. 213.

ride, to, iv. 494.

Ridley, vi 20.

Rimee, viii. 208.

ring, to take, viii. 461.

ring noon, vi. 1&6.

Ripley, George, iv. 81.

Rippon spurs, v. 181.

risse, 5v. 259.

river hawking, viii. 258.

Robert, earl of Salisbury, viii.

179.

Robinson, Dick, v. 73.
Roe, sir John, viii. 165.

-viii. 168.

Roe, William, viii. 189.

viii. 235.

Roe, sir Thomas, viii. 21O.
rogue (beggar), v. 284.
Romans, die like, iii. 261.
rook, iii. 192.
rosaker, i. 91.
rose, in the ear, ii. 70.
rose painters, v. 270.
roses, iii. 368.

- - v. 2O.

Rosicrucians, viii. 68.
round, to walk, iii. 455.

iv. 101.

round, gentlemen of, i. 85.

rouse, iii. 423.
rovers, ii. 37O.
row, the, v. 93.
Rudyard, sir Ben. viii. 231.
ruff, to thaw, ii. 1O3.
ruffle, of boot, ii. 155.
ruffle it, ii. 29O.
rug gown, ii. 115.
rushes, ii. 125.

ii. 273.

Rutland, countess of, vii. 387-
Rutter, Joseph, viii. 348.

S

Sabella, ii. 439.
sacrament, iv. 22O.
sadness, ii. 465.
sadly, iii. 296.
Sackville, sir Ed. viii. 358.
saffi, iii. 262.
Saguntum, ix. 9.
sail-stretched, ii. 12.
Sankre, lord, vii. 109.
Salathiel Pavy, ii. 229.
Salisbury, iii. 370.
Salisbury, earl of, viii. 144.
salt, viii. 177-

salt, to preserve him, iv. 478.
salts, v. 67.
sampuchine, ii. 347,
sanna, ii. 329.
sapor pontic, iv. 81.
sapor styptic, iv. 81.
satin sleeve, ii. 434.
Saturnals, iv. 274.
savi, iii. 262.
Savile, sir Hen. viii. 207-
Savory, v. 17.
say, i. 134.
say (try), ii. 549.

iv. 42.

v. 173.

says, viii. 158.

- - viii. 314.
Scanderbeg, i. 20.
scan verse, iii. 178.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

439

scarabs, ii.

scarlet cloth, iii. 241.

scartoccio, iii. 211.

scene, iv. 206.

scenery not in use, ii. 392.

Scoto, iii. 209.

scotomy, iii. 189.

scourse, iv. 443.

screaming grasshopper, ii, 543.

scroyles, i. 10.

ii. 471.

sea- weed, vi. 295.
seal, to, i. 58.

viii. 433.

seam-rent, ii. 86.
search to the nail, vi. 78.
seel, iv. 240.
secure, vi. 41.
Selden, viii. 364.
seminaries, iv. 438.

iv. 468.

Sempronia, iv. 228.

sepulchres, iii. 265.

serene, iii. 255.
viii. 169.

sericon, iv. 85.

serjeant, ii. 106.
iii. 455.

sermons, ii. 431.

serpent, iv. 269.

serpent in Sussex, vii. 352.

servant-monster, iv. 371-

servant, i. 102.
iii. 414.

services, ii. 8.

sesterce, ii. 447-

sets (plaits), iv. 133.

set up a side, iii. 416.

several, ii. 505.

shaft, ii. 183.

shake the head, i. 104.

Shakspeare, viii. 328.

shape, v. 354.

shelf, viii. 260.

Shelton, sir Ralph, viii. 241.

sheriffs post, ii. 123.

sheriff's post, ii. 246.
shine, ii. 365.
shining shoes, i. 45.
short hair, iv. 462.
shot-shark, ii. 182.
shot-clog, ii. 203.

v. 265.

shove groat, i. 86.
Shrove Tuesday, iii. 352.
Si quisses, ii. 91.
sick-man's salve, iii. 443.
sickness, iii. 353.

- - - - iv. 9.
side, v. 425.

Sidney, sir Philip, viii. 252.
Sidney, lord Rob. viii. 286.]
Sidney, William, viii. 286.
siege, iii. 28.
sieve and shears, iv. 16.
silenced brethren, iii. 369-

iii. S90.

silent rhetoric, ii. 95.

Silius (his death), iii. 76.

silk hose, i. 31.

silver feet, vii. 37-

Silvester, Josh. viii. 239.

Sim, old, ix. 87.

simper-the-cocket, vii. 376.

single money, iv. 179.

single, ii. 74.
vi. 364.

Sir Ajax, iii. 456.

sir, reverence, vi. 149.
vii, 337.

sister-swelling, v. 66.

skelder, ii. 8.

skeldering, ii. 390.

Skelton, viii. 75.
- - - - viii. 77.

Skelton, sir Robert, viii. 241.

skills not, vi. 159.

Skogan, viii. 75.

sleep on either ear, vii. 187

slighter, iii. 156.

slip, i. 62.

slip, vi. 77.

440

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

slips, viii. 430.

slops, i. 108.

- - iv. 101.
slot, vi. 255.
small voice, ii. 457-
smelt, ii. 264.
snottery, ii. 518.
snuff, in, iii. 454.
snuffers (to sell), ii. 415.
soggy, ii. 120.
soil, to take, iv. 38O.
sol, iv. 21.
solecism, iii. 315.
Soiners of Nottingham, v. 134.
Somerset, sir Thomas, vii. 54.
Soria, iii. 271.
sort (rank), i. 24.
sort (company), i. 33.
sovereign, ii. 205.
sovereignty, v. 352.
soundless, ix. 69.
sourer sort, vi. 259.
span, v. 218.
Spanish needles, v. 11.
Spanish sword, i. 55.

stoop, iv. 137.

Sparta, dog of, vi. 478.
Spartan, ii. 141.
speak at voley, v. 264.
sped of loves, vi. 133.
Spenser, iii. 392.
Spenser, sir Robert, vi. 476.
sphynx, iii. 392.

- T - vii. 199.
spill it at me, v. 4O1.
spinnet, vi. 469.
Spinther, iv. 348.
spire, iv. 227-
spittle, the, i. 17.

----- viii. 414.
spruntly, v. 105.
spur, sound, ii. 49.
spurs, gilt, ii. 66.
spur, gingle, ii. 49.

ii. 83.

spur leathers gnawn, iii. 274.

spur-royal, iv. 114.
Squib, Arthur, viii. 429.

squire (square), vi. 204.
stab arms, ii. 298.
stabbing arms, ii. 38O.
stabbed Lucrece, ii. 341.
stale, iv. 200.

- - vi. 408.
stale, to, i. 42.

---- ii. 220.
stalk, to, iii. 82.
stammel, viii. 130.
stand on gentility, iv. 12.
starch beard, ii. 145.
state, ii. 334.

- - vii. 87.
statelich, iv. 79.
statist, ii. 262.
statues, painted, vi . 111.
statuminate, v. 368.
statute against players, ii. 401.

.......... ii. 454.

statute of sorcery, iv. 19.
steeple of St. Paul's, v. 11.
Stephens, John, viii. 344.
Steward, lady Arabella, viir 47 .
Stewart, lord steward, vii. 394.
stews, a, i. 43.
stickler, ii. 336.
stoccata, i. 39.
stone jugs, vii. 371.
stool, on the stage, ii. 224.
stoop, iv. 189.
storks' bill, ii. 329.
stote, iv. 4O7.
stound, vi. 470.
stramazoun, ii. 152.
strange woman, iv. 418.
strangled an hour, iv. 162.
Stratford o' the Bow, v. 357.
streights, iv. 429.
strenuous vengeance, ii. 519.
Strigonium, i. 67.
stroke, vii. 86.
stroker, vi. 84.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

441

Stuart, sir Fran. iii. 338.
students of bears college, ii.541 .
subtile lips, iv. 244.
subtle, viii. 105.
suburb humour, i. 26.
Suffolk, earl of, viii. 188.
sun, bright, iii. 257.
Susan, countess of Montgo-
mery, viii. 216.
sweat night-caps, ii. 115.
sweet Oliver, i. 98.
Swinerton, viii. 426.
Sylla, iv. 199.

Tabarine, iii. 211.
tables, ii. 9O.

ii. 104.

iv. 478-

taint a staff, ii. 55.

ii. 179.

take in, i. 68.

take up, ii. 35.

take with you, ii. 133.

vii. 204.

take, viii. 301.
talc, oil of, iv. 94.
tall man, i. 124.

ii. 147.

tankard bearer, i. 24.
Tarleton, iv. 364.
Tarquin, iv. 276.
Tatius, v. 394.

vi. 267-

tavern token, i. 29.
tawney coat, ii. 451.
tell, cannot, i. 125.

ii. 433.

iii. 109.

tempest, to, ii. 499.
ten in the hundred, v. 2OO.
terms of law, ii. 7-
terra firma, Hi. 212.
tertias, v. 3*6.
Testament of love, v. 412.
teston, i. 1O7.

VOL. IX. G

Theban, learned, viii. 46.
Theobald's, vi. 406.

vii. 357.

thewes, viii. 127-

Thing done (a game), ii. 306.

thirdborough, vi. 135.

three farthings, i. 43.

three-piled, i. 75.

thread the needle, ii. 51.

three souls, ii. 515.

three pound thrum, iv. 12.

th reaves, iv. 164.

throng, v. 191.

thumb ring, v. 3.

Tiberius, iii. 98.

Tibert, viii. 246.

tick-tack, i. 77-

tidings, iii. 305.

time (tune), v. 180.

tinder boxes, iii. 27O.

tire (head dress), ii. 376.

ii. 432.

tire on, ii. 47OJ

- - - iv. 256.'
Titan, iv. 270.
Tithon, vii. 311.
titivilitium, iii. 430.
Titus Andronicus, iv. 368.
tobacco, i. 88.
tod, viii. 52.
token, iv. 443-
Toledo, i. 55.
torned, v. 67.
toothpicks, v. 137.
t'other youth, iii, 37O.
touch, viii. 252.
toy, to mock an ape, i. 102.
Tower, the, i. 129.
trains of Kent, vi. 154.
tralucent, vii. 78.
travels of the egg, ii. 51.
treachour, i. 138.
trick arms, ii. 101.

ii. 401.

trig, iv. 154.
Trinidado, i. 88.

442

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

Tripoli, come from, iii. 472.

viii. 226.

Triumph (playhouse), ii. 455.
triumphed world, iii. 17.
triumphs, viii. 93.
troll, i. 22.
trowses. v. 171.
truchman, ii. 336.
Trundle, John, i. 22.
trundling cheats, v. 386.
trunk (Coryat's), vii. 354.
trunk, iii. 354.

vii. 216.

trunk?, round, iv. 101.
tucket, vi. 344.
Ttidesco, vi. 33,
tumbler, ii. 407.
Turkish discipline, iii. 364.
turned, v. 70.
Turnmill-street, i. 17.
turn tippet, vi. 378.
turnpike, v. 235.
turquoise, iii. 15.
tusk, iv. 215.
two-penny room, ii. 24.
two-penny ward, ii. 208.
two-penny tearmouth, ii. 451,
twelfth caiact, iii. 195.
twelve score, iii. 150.
twire, vi. 280.
Tyburn, v. 130.

U

Ulen spiegle, iv. 61.

iv. 75.

------ viii. 73.

umbre, ii. 349.
uncouth, iii. 91,
under favour, v. 21.
under meal, iv. 473.
undertaker, iii. 338.
unequal, iii. 233.
unicorn's horn, ii. 191.
unicorn's milk, iii. 257-
University show, iii. 174.
unkindly, iii. 19,

unready, iv. 396.
unrude, ii. 132.
up, kill, ii. 44.
Upsee Dutch, iv. 15O.
Upsee Freeze, iv. 150.
up tails all, i. 32.
urn, ii. 523.
uses, vi. 55.
usquebagh, vii. 240.
Utopia (England), vi. 359.

Vadian, vi. 188.
vail, to, ii. 136.

ii- 450.

Valentine, vi. 133.
vallies, vi. 173.
Valois, iii. 253.
vapour, ii. 106.

iv. 413.

vapours, iv. 483.
varlet, i. 136.

- - - iii. 311.
velvet cap, iv. 378.
Venner, v. 13.
ventriloquist, v. 212.
venue, i. 39.
Verdugo, iv. 104.
Vere, lady, vii. 20.
Vere, sir Horace, viii. 2O1
verloffe, v. 292.
via sacra, ii. 431.
Vice, the, iv. 41.

----- v. 9.
vie, i. 100.
viliaco, ii. 181.
Vincent (herald), v. 365.
vindicta ! ii. 456.
violdegambo, ii. 125.

ii. 472.

Virgil, ii. 501.
Vitruvius, vi. 224.
voice, vi. 344.
vomit pins, iii. 321.
Voyages, book of, iii. 304.
Vulcan, iii. 478.

GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

443

Vulcan, execration upon, viii.

415.

vultures, iii. 82.
- - - - iii. 143.

W

Wage-law, v. 294.
Walden, lord, vii. 54.
walk knave ! vi. 109.
Walsingham, vii. 20.

vii. 43.

Ward, the, iv. 471.
Ward, the pirate, iv. 179.
wardship, iv. 459.
Ware, lord dela, viii. 451.
Warre, Thomas, viii. 352.
was, he, iv. 348.
watch, iii. 15.
watchmen, iv. 365.
waterworks, iv. 29.

- iv. 111.

waxen epitaph, ix. 58.
wealthy witness, viii. 195.
wedlock, ii. 471.
Weever, viii. 161.
well-turned, v. 67.
welt, iii. 468.
wench, iii. 424.
Weston, lord Rich. ix. 27-

ix. 29.

Weston, Jerome, ix. 34.
what is he for a, ii. 27'

- iii. 397-

what do you lack, vi. 5»
wh6r, v. 428.
where, iv. 303.
whetstone, ii. 222.

ii. 250.

Whetstone, iv. 391.
whiff, the, ii. 9.
while, v. 20.
white of an egg, vi. 364.
white money, ii. 158.
Whitefriars, iii. 275.
Whitenose, iii. 345.
why when ! i. 148.

Williams, lord keeper, vii. 391.

. viii. 452.

Willoughby, lord, vii. 54.
Windmill, the, i. 16.
windsucker, iii. 363.
wine of raisins, v. 47.
wing, ii. 1O3.
Winny, iv. 430.
Winsor, lady, vii. 42.
Winter, lady, vii. 42.
wise woman, vi. 272.
wish to, ii. 308.

- - - - iv. 242.
wit, to keep warm, ii. 257-
witchcraft, v. 152.

vii. 141.

Witches, vii. 141.
withal, to do, iii. 47O.
without (beyond), iii. 43.
Wither, George, viii. 7-
with peace, v. 53.
witness, vi. 93.
wolf, to see, ii. 208.
wolf enters, ii. 261.

ii. 263.

wolf's hair, to pluck, iv. 381.
wood, iv. 97'
woodcock's head, ii. 127.
woodcocks, ii. 151.
Woolsack (ordinary), iv. 174.
Worcester, lord, vii. 393.
word, the, ii. 102.

viii. 163.

worms, ii. 389.
worsted, iv. 23.
wretchock, vii. 371.
Wright, Thomas, viii. 351.
write in family, iii. 184.
writing tables, ii. 90.
Wroth, lady Mary, iv. 5.

-. __ vii. 20.

viii. 215.

viii. 391.

Wroth, sir Robert, viii. 257.
wrought shirts, i. 108.

444 GLOSSARIAL INDEX.

yellow starch, v. 1 6.

Y yeoman feuterer, ii. (54

Yellow coat, iii. 360. yet, ii. 239.

yellow doublets, iii. 369. York (herald), v. 365.

London : Printed by W. Bnlrner and Co
Cleveland-row, St, James's.

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2601

G6

1816

v.9

University
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