Chapter 11

Truth speaks of old, the power of Poesie;Amphion,Orpheus, stones and trees could move;Men, first by verse, were taught Civilitie;’Tis known and granted; yet would it behoveMee, with the Ancient Singers, here to crowneSome later Quills, some Makers of our owne.

Truth speaks of old, the power of Poesie;

Amphion,Orpheus, stones and trees could move;

Men, first by verse, were taught Civilitie;

’Tis known and granted; yet would it behove

Mee, with the Ancient Singers, here to crowne

Some later Quills, some Makers of our owne.

Nor should we fail to thank the younger Evelyn, for such graphic sketches as he gives of Restoration-Dramatists, of Cowley, Dryden, Wycherley, “Sedley and easy Etherege;” a new world of wits, all of whose works we prize, without neglecting for their sakes the older Masters who “so did take Eliza, and our James.”

Something that we could gladly say, will come in befittingly on after-pages of this volume, in the “Additional Note on Sir John Suckling’s ‘Sessions of the Poets,’” as printed in ourMerry Drollery, Compleat, page 72.

Are we stumbling at the threshold,absit omen!even amid our delight in perusing “the Time-Poets,” when we wonder at the precise meaning of the statement in our opening couplet?

One night the greatApollo, pleas’d withBen,Made the odd number of the Muses ten.

One night the greatApollo, pleas’d withBen,

Made the odd number of the Muses ten.

By whom additional? Who is the lady, thus elevated? We see only one solution: namely, that furnished by the conclusion of the poem. It was theFaerie Queeneherself whom the God lifted thus, in honour of her English Poets, to rank as the Tenth Muse, an equal with Urania, Clio, Euterpe, and their sisterhood. Yet somethingseems wanting, next to it; for we never reach a full-stop until the end of the 39th (orquery, the 40th) line; and all the confluent nominatives lack a common verbal-action. Our mind, it is true, accepts intelligibly the onward rush of each and all (but later, “with equal pace each of them softly creeps”). It may be only grammatical pedantry which craves some such phrase, absent from the text, as—

[While throng’d around his comrades and his peers,To list the ’sounding Music of the Spheres:]

[While throng’d around his comrades and his peers,

To list the ’sounding Music of the Spheres:]

But, since a momentary rashness prompts us here to dare so much, as to imagine thehiatusfilled, let us suppose that the lost sixteenth-line ran someway thus (each reader being free to try experiments himself, with chance of more success):—

Divine-composingQuarles, whose lines aspire[And glow, as doth with like etherial fire] 16th.The April of all Poesy inMay,Who makes our English speakPharsalia;

Divine-composingQuarles, whose lines aspire

[And glow, as doth with like etherial fire] 16th.

The April of all Poesy inMay,

Who makes our English speakPharsalia;

It is with some timidity we let this stand: but, as the text is left intact, our friends will pardon us; and foes we never quail to meet. As toBen Jonson, see our “Sessions,” in Part iv. OfBeaumontandFletcher, we write inthe note on final page ofChoyce Drollery, p. 100. Of “IngeniousShakespeare” we need say no more than give the lines of Richard Barnfield in his honour, from thePoems in diuers humors, 1598:—

A Remembrance of some English Poets.LiueSpensereuer, in thyFairy Queene:Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer seene.Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne,(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crowne.AndDaniell, praised for thy sweet-chast Verse:Whose Fame is grav’d inRosamondsblacke Herse.Still mayst thou liue: and still be honored,For that rare Worke,The White Rose and the Red.AndDrayton, whose wel-written TragediesAnd sweet Epistles, soare thy fame to skies.Thy learned Name, is æquall with the rest;Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest.AndShakespearethou, whose hony-flowing Vaine,(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine.WhoseVenus, and whoseLucrece(sweete and chaste)Thy Name in fames immortall Booke hath plac’t.Liue euer you, at least in Fame liue euer:Well may the Bodye dye, but Fame dies neuer.

A Remembrance of some English Poets.

LiueSpensereuer, in thyFairy Queene:Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer seene.Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne,(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crowne.

LiueSpensereuer, in thyFairy Queene:

Whose like (for deepe Conceit) was neuer seene.

Crownd mayst thou bee, vnto thy more renowne,

(As King of Poets) with a Lawrell Crowne.

AndDaniell, praised for thy sweet-chast Verse:Whose Fame is grav’d inRosamondsblacke Herse.Still mayst thou liue: and still be honored,For that rare Worke,The White Rose and the Red.

AndDaniell, praised for thy sweet-chast Verse:

Whose Fame is grav’d inRosamondsblacke Herse.

Still mayst thou liue: and still be honored,

For that rare Worke,The White Rose and the Red.

AndDrayton, whose wel-written TragediesAnd sweet Epistles, soare thy fame to skies.Thy learned Name, is æquall with the rest;Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest.

AndDrayton, whose wel-written Tragedies

And sweet Epistles, soare thy fame to skies.

Thy learned Name, is æquall with the rest;

Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest.

AndShakespearethou, whose hony-flowing Vaine,(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine.WhoseVenus, and whoseLucrece(sweete and chaste)Thy Name in fames immortall Booke hath plac’t.Liue euer you, at least in Fame liue euer:Well may the Bodye dye, but Fame dies neuer.

AndShakespearethou, whose hony-flowing Vaine,

(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine.

WhoseVenus, and whoseLucrece(sweete and chaste)

Thy Name in fames immortall Booke hath plac’t.

Liue euer you, at least in Fame liue euer:

Well may the Bodye dye, but Fame dies neuer.

The praise ofMassingerwill not seem overstrained; although he never affects us with the sense of supreme genius, as does Marlowe. The recognition ofGeorge Chapman’sgrandeur, and the power with which this recognition is expressed, show how tame is the influence of Massinger in comparison. There need be little question that it was to Dekker’s mind and pen we owe the nobler portion of the Virgin Martyr. Massinger, when alongside of Marlow, Webster, and Dekker, is like Euripides contrasted with Æschylus and Sophocles. We think of him as a Playwright, and successful; but these others were Poets of Apollo’s own body-guard. Drayton sings:

NextMarlow, bathed in theThespiansprings,Had in him those brave translunary thingsThat the first poets had, his raptures wereAll air and fire, which made his verses clear;For that fine madness still he did retain,Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.

NextMarlow, bathed in theThespiansprings,

Had in him those brave translunary things

That the first poets had, his raptures were

All air and fire, which made his verses clear;

For that fine madness still he did retain,

Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.

Robert Daborneis chiefly interesting to us from his connection in misfortunes and dramatic labours with Massinger and Nat Field; and as joining them in the supplication for advance of money from Philip Henslow, while they lay in prison. The reference to Daborne’s clerical, as well as to his dramatic vocation, and to his having died (in Ireland, we believe, leaving behind him sermons,) “Amphibion by the Ministry,” confirms the general belief.

Jo: Sylvester’stranslation of Du Bartas, 1621;Thomas May’sof Lucan’s Pharsalia,George Sandys’of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, need little comment here; some being referred to, near the end of our volume.

Dudley Digges(1612-43), born at Chilham Castle, near Canterbury (now the seat of Charles S. Hardy, Esq.); son of Sir Dudley Digges, Master of the Rolls, wrote a reverent Elegy forJonsonus Virbius, 1638. L[eonard] Digges had, fifteen years earlier, written the memorial lines beginning “Shake-speare, at length thy pious fellows give || The World thy Workes:” which appear at beginning of the first folioShakespeare, 1623.

ToSamuel Daniel’shigh merits we have only lately awakened: his “Complaint of Rosamond” has a sustained dignity and pathos that deserve all Barnfield’s praise; the “Sonnets to Delia” are graceful and impressive in their purity; his “Civil Wars” may seem heavy, but the fault lies in ourselves, if unsteady readers, not the poet: thus we suspect, when we remember the true poetic fervour of his Pastoral,

O happy Golden Age!

and his Description of Beauty, from Marino.

Of “HeroickDrayton” we write more hereafter: He grows dearer to us with every year. His “Dowsabell” is onp. 73. Was his being coupled as a “Poet-Beadle,” in allusion to his numerous verse-epistles, showing an acquaintance with all the worthies of his day, even as hisPolyolbiongives a roll-call of the men, and a gazetteer of the England they made illustrious? For, as shown in theApophthegmmes of Erasmus, 1564, Booke 2nd, (p. 296 of the Boston Reprint,) it is “the proper office and dutie of soche biddelles (who were called in latinNomenclators) to have perfecte knowlege and remembrance of the names, of the surnames, and of the titles of dignitees of all persones, to the ende that thei maie helpe the remembraunce of their maisters in the same when neede is.” To our day the office of an Esquire Beddell is esteemed in Cambridge University. But, we imagine, George Wither is styled a “Poets Beadle” with a very different significance. It was theBridewell-Beadles’ whip which he wielded vigorously, in flagellation of offenders, that may have earned him the title. See his “Abuses Stript and Whipt,” 1613, and turn to the rough wood-cut of cart’s-tail punishment shown in the frontispiece toA Caueat or Warening for Common Cursetors, vulgarly called Vagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman, Esquier for the utilitie and profit of his naturall country, &c., 1566, and later (Reprinted by E. E. Text Soc., and inO. B. Coll. Misc., i. No. 4, 1871).

George Witherwas his own worst foe, when he descended to satiric invective and pious verbiage. True poet was he; as his description of the Muse in her visit to him while imprisoned in the Marshalsea, with almost the whole of his “Shepherd’s Hunting” and “Mistress of Phil’arete,” prove incontestibly. He is to be loved and pitied: although perversely he will argue as a schismatick, always wrong-headed and in trouble, whichever party reigns. To him, in his sectarian zeal or sermonizing platitudes—all for our good, alas!—we can but answer with the melancholy Jacques: “I do not desire you to please me. I do desire you tosing!”

“Pan’s PastoralBrown” is, of course,Wm. Browne, author of “Britannia’s Pastorals.” LikeJames Shirley, last in the group of early Dramatists, his precocious genius is remembered in the text. Regretting that no painted or sculptured portrait ofJohn Fordesurvives, we are thankful for this striking picture of him in his sombre meditation. We could part, willingly, with half of our dramatic possessions since the nineteenth century began, to recover one of the lost plays by Ford. No writer holds us more entirely captive to the tenderness of sorrow; no one’s hand more lightly, yet more powerfully, stirs the affections, while admitting the sadness, than he who gave us “The Broken Heart,” and “’Tis pity she’s a whore.”

Not unhappily chosen is the epithet “The SquibbingMiddleton,” for he almost always fails to impress us fully by his great powers. He warms not, he enlightens not, with steady glow, but gives us fireworks instead of stars or altar-burnings. We except from this rebuke his“Faire Quarrel,” 1622, which shows a much firmer grasp and purpose, fascinating us the while we read. Perhaps, with added knowledge of him will come higher esteem.

OfThomas Heywoodthe portrait is complete, every word developing a feature: his fertility, his choice of subjects, and rubicund appearance.

Nor is the humourous sadness, of the figure shewn by the agedThomas Churchyard, less touching because it is dashed in with burlesque. “Poverty and Poetry his Tomb doth enclose” (Camden’s Remains). His writings extend from the time of Edward VI. to early in the reign of James I. (he died in 1604); some of the poems inTottel’s Miscellany, 1557, were claimed by him, but are not identified, and J. P. Collier thought him not unlikely to have partly edited the work, His “Tragedie of Shore’s Wife,” (best edit. 1698), in theMirror for Magistrates, surpasses most of his other poems; yet are there biographical details inChurchyard’s Chips, 1575, that reward our perusal. Gascoigne and several other poets addedTam Marti quàm Mercurioafter their names; but Churchyard could boast thus with more truth as a Soldier. He says:—

Full thirty yeers, both Court and Warres I tryed,And still I sought acquaintaunce with the best,And served the Staet, and did such hap abyedAs might befall, and Fortune sent the rest:When drom did sound, a souldier was I prest,To sea or lande, as Princes quarrell stoed,And for the saem, full oft I lost my blood.

Full thirty yeers, both Court and Warres I tryed,

And still I sought acquaintaunce with the best,

And served the Staet, and did such hap abyed

As might befall, and Fortune sent the rest:

When drom did sound, a souldier was I prest,

To sea or lande, as Princes quarrell stoed,

And for the saem, full oft I lost my blood.

But, throughout, misfortune dogged him:—

... To serve my torn [i.e., turn] in service of the Queen:But God he knoes, my gayn was small, I ween,For though I did my credit still encreace,I got no welth, by warres, ne yet by peace.(C.’s Chips:A Tragicall Discourse of the unhappy man’s Life; verses 9, 26.)

... To serve my torn [i.e., turn] in service of the Queen:

But God he knoes, my gayn was small, I ween,

For though I did my credit still encreace,

I got no welth, by warres, ne yet by peace.

(C.’s Chips:A Tragicall Discourse of the unhappy man’s Life; verses 9, 26.)

OfThomas Dekker, or Decker (about 1575-1638), “A priest in Apollo’s Temple, many yeares,” with his “OldFortunatus,” both parts of his “Honest Whore,” his “Satiromastix,” and “Gull’s Hornbook,” &c.,—which take us back to all the mirth and squabbling of the day—we need add no word but praise. We believe that a valuable clue is afforded by the allusion in our text to the pamphlet “Dekker his Dreame,” 1620, (reprinted by J. O. Halliwell, 1860.) We may be certain that “The Time-Poets” was not written earlier than 1620, or any later than 1636 (or probably than 1632), and before Jonson’s death.

In this 50th line the word “high” is evidently redundant (probably an error in printer’s MS., not erased when the true word “big” was added): we retain it, of course, though in smaller type; as in similar cases of excess. But who was “Rounce, Robble, Hobble?” Most certainly it was no other thanRichard Stanyhurst(1547-1618), whose varied adventures, erudition, and eccentricities of verse combined to make him memorable. His Hexameter translation of theÆneisBooks i-iv, appeared in 1583; not followed by any more during the thirty-five years succeeding. Gabriel Harvey praised him, in his “Foure Letters,” &c., although Thomas Nashe, in 1592, declares that “Master Stanyhurst (though otherwise learned) trod a foule, lumbring, boystrous, wallowing measure in his translation of Virgil. He had never been praised by Gabriel [Harvey] for his labour, if therein he had not been so famously absurd.” (Strange Newes.) ThisÆneidhad a limited reprint in 1839. Warton inHist. Eng. Poetrygives examples (misnaming him Robert) but Camden says “Eruditissimus ille nobilis Richardus Stanihurstus.” In his preface to Greene’sArcadia, Nash quotes Stanyhurst’s description of a Tempest:—

Then did he make heauens vault to reboundWith rounce robble bobble,[N.B.]Of ruffe raffe roaring,With thicke thwacke thurly bouncing:

Then did he make heauens vault to rebound

With rounce robble bobble,[N.B.]

Of ruffe raffe roaring,

With thicke thwacke thurly bouncing:

and indicates his opinion of the poet, “as of some thrasonicalhuffe-snuffe,” indulging in “that quarrelling kind of verse.” One more specimen, to justify our text, regarding “he that writ so big:” in the address to the winds,Æn., Bk. i., Neptune thus rails:—

Dare ye, lo, curst baretours, in this my Seignorie regal,Too raise such racks iacks on seas and danger unorder’d?

Dare ye, lo, curst baretours, in this my Seignorie regal,

Too raise such racks iacks on seas and danger unorder’d?

The recent death of Stanyhurst, 1618, strengthens our belief thatthe Time-Poetswas not later than 1620-32.

ToWilliam Bassewe owe the beautiful epitaph on Shakespeare, printed in 1633, “RenownedSpencer, lye a thought more nigh To learnedChaucer,”etc., and at least two songs (beside “Great Brittaine’s Sunnes-set,” 1613), viz., the Hunter in his Career, beginning “Long ere the Morn,” and one of the best Tom o’ Bedlam’s; probably, “Forth from my sad and darksome cell.”

The name ofJohn Shanke, here suggestively famous “for a jigg,” occurs in divers lists of players (see J. P. C.’sAnnals of the Stage,passim), he having been one of Prince Henry’s Company in 1603. That he was also a singer, we have this verse in proof, written in the reign of James I. (Bibliog. Acc.i. 163):—

That’s the fat foole of theCurtin,And the lean fool of theBull:SinceShankedid leave to sing his rimesHe is counted but a gull.The Players on theBanckeside,The roundGlobeand theSwan,Will teach you idle tricks of love,But theBullwill play the man.(W. Turner’sCommon Cries of London Town, 1662.)

That’s the fat foole of theCurtin,

And the lean fool of theBull:

SinceShankedid leave to sing his rimes

He is counted but a gull.

The Players on theBanckeside,

The roundGlobeand theSwan,

Will teach you idle tricks of love,

But theBullwill play the man.

(W. Turner’sCommon Cries of London Town, 1662.)

“Broom” isRichard Brome(died 1652), whose racy comedies have been, like Dekker’s, lately reprinted. The insinuation that Ben Jonson had “sent him before to sweep the way,” alludes, no doubt, to the fact of Brome having earlier been Jonson’s servant, and learning from his personal discourse much of dramatic art. Neither was it meant nor accepted as an insult, when, (printed 1632,) Jonson wrote (“according to Ben’s own nature andcustom, magisterial enough,” as their true friend Alexander Brome admits),

I had you for a Servant once,Dick Brome;And you perform’d a Servant’s faithful parts:Now, you are got into a nearer roomOfFellowship, professing my old Arts.And you do doe them well, with good applause,Which you have justly gained from the Stage, &c.

I had you for a Servant once,Dick Brome;

And you perform’d a Servant’s faithful parts:

Now, you are got into a nearer room

OfFellowship, professing my old Arts.

And you do doe them well, with good applause,

Which you have justly gained from the Stage, &c.

It is amusing to mark the survival of the old joke in our text, about sweeping (it came often enough, inFigaro in London, &c., at the time of the 1832 Reform Bill, as to Henry Brougham and Vaux); when we see it repeated, almost literally, in reference to Alexander Pope’s fellow-labourer on the Odyssey translation, the Rev. William Broome, of our St. John’s College, Cambridge:—

Popecame off clean withHomer, but they say,Broomewent before, and kindly swept the way.

Popecame off clean withHomer, but they say,

Broomewent before, and kindly swept the way.

Leaving a few words on the matchlessBenhimself forthe “Sessions of the Poets” Additional Note, we end this commentary on our book’s chief poem with a few more stanzas from the Beswick Manuscript, by George Daniel, (written in great part before, part after, 1647,) in honour of Ben Jonson, but preceded by others relating to Sir Philip Sidney, Spenser, Daniel, Drayton, Shakespeare, Beaumont, and Donne:—

I am not bound to honour antique names,[8th verse]Nor am I led by other men to chuseAny thing worthy, which my judgment blames;Heare better straines, though by a later Muse;The sweetArcadiansinger first did raiseOur Language current, and deserv’d his Baies.That Lord ofPenhurst,Penhurstwhose sad wallsYet mourne their master, in theBelgickefrayUntimely lost; to whose dear funerallsTheMedwaiedoth its constant tribute paye;But gloriousPenhurst,Medwaieswaters onceWithMinciusshall, andMergelineadvance;TheShepherds Boy; best knowen by that nameColin: upon his homely Oaten Reed.WithRoman Tityrusmay share in ffame;But when a higher path hee strains to tread,This is my wonder: for who yet has seeneSoe cleare a Poeme as hisFaierie Queene?The sweetestSwan of Avon; to the faireAnd cruelDelia, passionatelie sings:Other mens weaknesses and follies areHonour and Wit in him; each Accent bringsA sprig to crowne him Poet; and contriveA Monument, in his owne worke to live.Draitonis sweet and smooth: though not exact,Perhaps to stricter Eyes; yet he shall liveBeyond their Malice: to the Scene and Act,Read ComickeShakespeare; or if you would givePraise to a just Desert, crowning the Stage,SeeBeaumont, once the honour of his Age.The reverentDonne; whose quill God purely fil’d,Liveth to his Character: so though he claim’dA greater glory, may not be exil’dThis Commonwealth, &c.Here pause a little; for I would not cloy[verse 15]The curious Eare, with recitations;And meerily looke at names; attend with joy,Unto anEnglishQuill, who rivall’d onceRome, not to make her blush; and knowne of lateUnenvied (’cause unequall’d) Laureate.This, this wasJonson; who in his own nameCarries his praise; and may he shine alone;I am not tyed to any generall ffame,Nor fixed by the ApprobationOf great ones: But I speake without pretenceHee was ofEnglishDramatiskes, the Prince.

I am not bound to honour antique names,[8th verse]

Nor am I led by other men to chuse

Any thing worthy, which my judgment blames;

Heare better straines, though by a later Muse;

The sweetArcadiansinger first did raise

Our Language current, and deserv’d his Baies.

That Lord ofPenhurst,Penhurstwhose sad wallsYet mourne their master, in theBelgickefrayUntimely lost; to whose dear funerallsTheMedwaiedoth its constant tribute paye;But gloriousPenhurst,Medwaieswaters onceWithMinciusshall, andMergelineadvance;

That Lord ofPenhurst,Penhurstwhose sad walls

Yet mourne their master, in theBelgickefray

Untimely lost; to whose dear funeralls

TheMedwaiedoth its constant tribute paye;

But gloriousPenhurst,Medwaieswaters once

WithMinciusshall, andMergelineadvance;

TheShepherds Boy; best knowen by that nameColin: upon his homely Oaten Reed.WithRoman Tityrusmay share in ffame;But when a higher path hee strains to tread,This is my wonder: for who yet has seeneSoe cleare a Poeme as hisFaierie Queene?

TheShepherds Boy; best knowen by that name

Colin: upon his homely Oaten Reed.

WithRoman Tityrusmay share in ffame;

But when a higher path hee strains to tread,

This is my wonder: for who yet has seene

Soe cleare a Poeme as hisFaierie Queene?

The sweetestSwan of Avon; to the faireAnd cruelDelia, passionatelie sings:Other mens weaknesses and follies areHonour and Wit in him; each Accent bringsA sprig to crowne him Poet; and contriveA Monument, in his owne worke to live.

The sweetestSwan of Avon; to the faire

And cruelDelia, passionatelie sings:

Other mens weaknesses and follies are

Honour and Wit in him; each Accent brings

A sprig to crowne him Poet; and contrive

A Monument, in his owne worke to live.

Draitonis sweet and smooth: though not exact,Perhaps to stricter Eyes; yet he shall liveBeyond their Malice: to the Scene and Act,Read ComickeShakespeare; or if you would givePraise to a just Desert, crowning the Stage,SeeBeaumont, once the honour of his Age.

Draitonis sweet and smooth: though not exact,

Perhaps to stricter Eyes; yet he shall live

Beyond their Malice: to the Scene and Act,

Read ComickeShakespeare; or if you would give

Praise to a just Desert, crowning the Stage,

SeeBeaumont, once the honour of his Age.

The reverentDonne; whose quill God purely fil’d,Liveth to his Character: so though he claim’dA greater glory, may not be exil’dThis Commonwealth, &c.

The reverentDonne; whose quill God purely fil’d,

Liveth to his Character: so though he claim’d

A greater glory, may not be exil’d

This Commonwealth, &c.

Here pause a little; for I would not cloy[verse 15]The curious Eare, with recitations;And meerily looke at names; attend with joy,Unto anEnglishQuill, who rivall’d onceRome, not to make her blush; and knowne of lateUnenvied (’cause unequall’d) Laureate.

Here pause a little; for I would not cloy[verse 15]

The curious Eare, with recitations;

And meerily looke at names; attend with joy,

Unto anEnglishQuill, who rivall’d once

Rome, not to make her blush; and knowne of late

Unenvied (’cause unequall’d) Laureate.

This, this wasJonson; who in his own nameCarries his praise; and may he shine alone;I am not tyed to any generall ffame,Nor fixed by the ApprobationOf great ones: But I speake without pretenceHee was ofEnglishDramatiskes, the Prince.

This, this wasJonson; who in his own name

Carries his praise; and may he shine alone;

I am not tyed to any generall ffame,

Nor fixed by the Approbation

Of great ones: But I speake without pretence

Hee was ofEnglishDramatiskes, the Prince.

This was written bySir Simeon Steward, or Stewart. The numbers 1 and 2 of our text are twice incorrect inoriginal, viz. the 10th and 14th verses, each assigned to 1 (Red-head), whereas they certainly belong to 2 (White-head). From third verse the figure “1” has unfortunately dropt in printing. By aid of Addit. MS. No. 11, 811, p. 36, we are enabled to correct a few other errors, some being gross corruptions of sense; although, as a general rule, regarding poems that had appeared in print, the private MS. versions abound with blunders of the transcriber, additional to those of the original printer. It is, in the MS., entitled “A Dialogue betweenPyrrotrichusandLeucothrix,” the latter taking verses 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, and the final verse, 14 (markedLeuc). His earliest verse reads, in the MS., “And higher, Rufus, who would pass; weresome; 3rd. v. ’Tisthisthat; 6th. The RomanKing who; belopt; Ruddypates; 8th v. Red likeunto;colour; 9th.Nayif; dothbeareno; sidelooksas fair; otherdothmy; bearmy[?]; 10th.Therefore, methinks; Besides,ofall the; 12th. N.B.—Yetwhat thy head must buy withyeares, Crosses; Thathathnaturegiv’n; 13th, betwofriendly peeres; let usjoyn; makeonebeauteous; 14th, [Leucothrix.] Wejoyn’dour heads; beat themto heart[i.e. to boot]; Wasjustbut;ofour head.” In the Reresby Memoirs, we believe, is mention of an ancestress, who, about 1619, married this (?) “Sir Simeon Steward.”

In Wm. Hickes hisOxford Drollery, 1671, in Part 3rd, (“Poems made at Oxford, long since”), p. 157, this Epigram appears, with variations. The second verse reads:But being there a little while,||He met with one so right||That upon theFrenchDisease||It was his chance to light.The final couplet is:—TheFrench-man’sArms are the sign without,||But theFrench-man’sharms are within.

Throughout the first half of the Seventeenth century the abundance of Epigrams produced is enormous; whole volumes of them, divided into Books, like J. Heywood’s, being issued by poets of whom nothing else is known,except the name, unless Anthony à Wood has fortunately preserved some record. These have not been systematically examined, as they deserve to be. Amid much rubbish good things lie hid. Perhaps the Editor may have more to say on them hereafter. Meanwhile, take this, by Robert Hayman, as alike a specimen and a summary:—

To the Reader:Sermons and Epigrams have a like end,To improve, to reprove, and to amend:Some passe without this vse, ’cause they are witty;And so doe many Sermons, more’s the pitty.(Quodlibets, 1628, Bookiv., p. 59.)

To the Reader:

Sermons and Epigrams have a like end,To improve, to reprove, and to amend:Some passe without this vse, ’cause they are witty;And so doe many Sermons, more’s the pitty.

Sermons and Epigrams have a like end,

To improve, to reprove, and to amend:

Some passe without this vse, ’cause they are witty;

And so doe many Sermons, more’s the pitty.

(Quodlibets, 1628, Bookiv., p. 59.)

This was (perhaps, byJohn Eliot,) certainly written in anticipatory celebration of the event described, the Reception of Queen Henrietta Maria by the citizens of London, 1625. The full title is this:—“The Author intending to write upon the Duke ofBuckingham, when he went to fetch the Queen, prepared a new Ballad for the Fidlers, as might hold them to sing betweenDoverandCallice.” It is thus the poem reappears, with some variations (beginning “Now list, you Lordlings, and attend, ||Unto a Ballad newly penned,” &c.,) among the “Choyce Poems, being Songs, Sonnets, Satyrs, and Elegies. By the Wits of both Universities, London,” &c., 1661, p. 83. This was merely the earlier edition (of June, 1658), reissued with an irregular extra sheet at beginning. The original title-page (two issued in 1658) was “Poems or Epigrams, Satyrs, Elegies, Songs and Sonnets, upon several persons and occasions. By no body must know whom, to be had every body knows where, and for any body knows what. [MS. The Author John Eliot.] London, Printed for Henry Brome, at theGunin Ivie Lane, 1658.” It is mentioned that “These poems were given me neer sixteen years since [therefore about 1642] by a Friend of the Authors, with a desire they might beprinted, but I conceived the Age then too squeemish to endure the freedom which the Author useth, and therefore I have hitherto smothered them, but being desirous they should not perish, and the world be deprived of so much clean Wit and Fancy, I have adventured to expose them to thy view; ... The Author writes not pedantically, but like a gentleman; and if thou art a gentleman of thy own making thou wilt not mislike it.”

Verse 9th.Gondomarwas the Spanish Ambassador at the Court of James I., to whom, with his “one word” of “Pyrates, Pyrates, Pyrates,” we in great part owe the slaughter of Raleigh. Of course, the date ’526, four lines lower, is a blunder. The rash visit to Madrid was in March, 1623.

Title, and verse 8th. AJack-a-Lentwas a stuffed puppet, set up to be thrown at, during Lent. Perhaps it was a substitute for a live Cock; or else the Cock-throwing may have been a later “improvement:” See Hone’sEvery Day Book, for an illustrated account, i. 249. Trace of the habit survives in our modern “Old Aunt Sally,” by which yokels lose money at Races (although Dorset Rectors try to abolish Country Fairs, while encouragement is given to gambling at Chapel Bazaars with raffles for pious purposes). In theMerry Wives of Windsor, Act iii. sc. 3, Mrs. Page says to the boy, “You littleJack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?” Quarles alludes to the practice:—

How like aJack-a-LentHe stands, for boys to spend their Shrove-tide throws,Or like a puppet made to frighten crows.(J. O. Halliwell’sM. W. of W., Tallis ed., p. 127.)

How like aJack-a-LentHe stands, for boys to spend their Shrove-tide throws,Or like a puppet made to frighten crows.

How like aJack-a-Lent

He stands, for boys to spend their Shrove-tide throws,

Or like a puppet made to frighten crows.

(J. O. Halliwell’sM. W. of W., Tallis ed., p. 127.)

John Taylor (the Water-Poet) wrote a whim-wham entitled “Jack a Lent: his Beginning and Entertainment,” about 1619, printed 1630; as “of the Jack of Jacks, great Jack a Lent.” And Cleveland devoted thus a Cavalier’s worn suit: “Thou shalt makeJack-a-Lentsand Babies first.” (Poems, 1662, p. 56.)

Martin Llewellyn’s Song on Cock-throwing begins “Cock a doodle doe, ’tis the bravest game;” in hisMen-Miracles, &c., 1646, p. 61.

As to the burden (since some folks are inquisitive about the etymology of Down derry down, or Ran-dan, &c.), we may note that in a queer book,The Loves of Hero and Leander, 1651, p. 3, is a six-line verse ending thus:

“Oh,Hero,Hero, pitty me,With a dildo, dildo, dildo dee.”

“Oh,Hero,Hero, pitty me,

With a dildo, dildo, dildo dee.”

By which we may guess that the Rope-dancer’s Song, in our text, was probably written about, or even before, 1651. Some among us (the Editor for one) saw Madame Sacchi in 1855 mount the rope, although she was seventy years old, as nimbly as when the first Napoleon had been her chief spectator. During the Commonwealth, rope-dancing and tumbling were tolerated at the Red-Bull Theatre, while plays were prohibited. See (Note to p. 210) our Introduction toWestminster Drollery, pp. xv.-xx, and the Frontispiece reproduced from Kirkman’s “Wits,” 1673, representing sundry characters from different “Drolls,” grouped together, viz.: Falstaff and Dame Quickly, from “the Bouncing Knight;” the French Dancing-Master, from the Duke of Newcastle’s “Variety,” Clause, from Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Beggar’s Bush,” Tom Greene as Bubble the Clown uttering “Tu Quoque” from John Cooke’s “City Gallant” (peeping through the chief-entrance, reserved for dignitaries); also Simpleton the Smith, and the Changeling, from two of Robert Cox’s favourite Drolls. We add now, illustrative of practical suppression under the Commonwealth, a contemporary record:—

A Song.1.The fourteenth ofSeptemberI very well remember,When people had eaten and fed well,Many men, they say,Would needs go see a Play,But they saw a great rout at thered Bull.2.The Soldiers they came,(The blind and the lame)To visit and undo the Players;And women without Gowns,They said they would have Crowns;But they were no good Sooth-sayers.3.ThenJo: Wrightthey met,Yet nothing could get,AndTom Jayi’ th’ same condition:The fire men theyWould ha’ made ’em a prey,But they scorn’d to make a petition.4.[p. 89.]The Minstrills theyHad the hap that day,(Well fare a very good token)To keep (from the chase)The fiddle and the case,For the instruments scap’d unbroken.5.The poor and the rich,The wh... and the b...,Were every one at a losse,But the Players were allTurn’d (as weakest) to the wall,And ’tis thought had the greatest losse.[?cross.](Wit’s Merriment, or Lusty Drollery, 1656, p. 88.)

A Song.

1.The fourteenth ofSeptemberI very well remember,When people had eaten and fed well,Many men, they say,Would needs go see a Play,But they saw a great rout at thered Bull.

The fourteenth ofSeptember

I very well remember,

When people had eaten and fed well,

Many men, they say,

Would needs go see a Play,

But they saw a great rout at thered Bull.

2.The Soldiers they came,(The blind and the lame)To visit and undo the Players;And women without Gowns,They said they would have Crowns;But they were no good Sooth-sayers.

The Soldiers they came,

(The blind and the lame)

To visit and undo the Players;

And women without Gowns,

They said they would have Crowns;

But they were no good Sooth-sayers.

3.ThenJo: Wrightthey met,Yet nothing could get,AndTom Jayi’ th’ same condition:The fire men theyWould ha’ made ’em a prey,But they scorn’d to make a petition.

ThenJo: Wrightthey met,

Yet nothing could get,

AndTom Jayi’ th’ same condition:

The fire men they

Would ha’ made ’em a prey,

But they scorn’d to make a petition.

4.[p. 89.]The Minstrills theyHad the hap that day,(Well fare a very good token)To keep (from the chase)The fiddle and the case,For the instruments scap’d unbroken.

4.[p. 89.]

The Minstrills they

Had the hap that day,

(Well fare a very good token)

To keep (from the chase)

The fiddle and the case,

For the instruments scap’d unbroken.

5.The poor and the rich,The wh... and the b...,Were every one at a losse,But the Players were allTurn’d (as weakest) to the wall,And ’tis thought had the greatest losse.[?cross.]

The poor and the rich,

The wh... and the b...,

Were every one at a losse,

But the Players were all

Turn’d (as weakest) to the wall,

And ’tis thought had the greatest losse.[?cross.]

(Wit’s Merriment, or Lusty Drollery, 1656, p. 88.)

One such raid on the poor actors (and probably at this very theatre, the Red Bull, St. John’s Street, Clerkenwell) is recorded, as of 20th December, 1649:—“Some Stage-players in St. John’s-Street were apprehended by troopers, their clothes taken away, and themselves carried to prison” (Whitelocke’sMemorials, 435, edit. 1733, cited by J. P. C.,Annals, ii. 118). It was a serious business, as we see from the Ordinance of 11 Feb., 1647-8; the demolishing of seats and boxes, the actors “to be apprehendedand openly and publicly whipt in some market town ... to enter into recognizances with two sufficient sureties, never to act or play any Play or Interlude any more,” &c.

As for the Light-skirts, so elegantly referred to in the Song now reprinted (as far as we are aware, for the first time), they were certainly not actresses, but courtezans frequenting the place to ensnare visitors. Although English women did notpubliclyperform until after the Restoration, except on one occasion (of course, at Court Masques and private mansions, the Queen herself and her ladies had impersonated characters), yet so early as 8th November, 1629, some French professional actresses vainly attempted to get a hearing at Blackfriars Theatre, and a fortnight later at the Red Bull itself, as three weeks afterwards at the Fortune. Evidently, they were unsuccessful throughout. We hear a good deal about the far-more objectionable “Ladies of Pleasure,” who beset all places of amusement. Thomas Cranley, addressing one such, in hisAmanda, 1635, describes her several alluring disguises and habits:—

The places thou dost usually frequentIs to some playhouse in an afternoon,And for no other meaning and intentBut to get company to sup with soon;More changeable and wavering than the moon.And with thy wanton looks attracting to theeThe amorous spectators for to woo thee.Thither thou com’st in several forms and shapesTo make thee still a stranger to the place,And train new lovers, like young birds, to scrapes,And by thy habit so to change thy face;At this time plain, to-morrow all in lace:Now in the richest colours to be had;The next day all in mourning, black and sad.&c.

The places thou dost usually frequent

Is to some playhouse in an afternoon,

And for no other meaning and intent

But to get company to sup with soon;

More changeable and wavering than the moon.

And with thy wanton looks attracting to thee

The amorous spectators for to woo thee.

Thither thou com’st in several forms and shapesTo make thee still a stranger to the place,And train new lovers, like young birds, to scrapes,And by thy habit so to change thy face;At this time plain, to-morrow all in lace:Now in the richest colours to be had;The next day all in mourning, black and sad.&c.

Thither thou com’st in several forms and shapes

To make thee still a stranger to the place,

And train new lovers, like young birds, to scrapes,

And by thy habit so to change thy face;

At this time plain, to-morrow all in lace:

Now in the richest colours to be had;

The next day all in mourning, black and sad.&c.

Despite our repugnance to mutilate a text (see Introduction toWestminster Drollery, p. 6; ditto toMerry DrolleryCompleat, pp. 38, 39, 40; and that to our present volume,foot-note in section third), a few letters have been necessarily suppressed in this piece of coarse humour. Verse fourth, on p. 33, refers to Ben Jonson’s loss of valuable manuscripts by fire, and his consequent “Execration upon Vulcan,” before June, 1629; an event deeply to be regretted: also to the whimsical account of the fire on London Bridge (seeMerry Drollery, Compleat, pp. 87, 369, andAdditional Notein present volume, tracing the poem to 1651, and the event to 1633).

An amusing poem was written, by Thomas Randolph, on the destruction of the Mitre Tavern at Cambridge, about 1630; it begins, “Lament, lament, you scholars all.” (SeeA Crew of kind London Gossips, 1663, p. 72).

Also given later, inMerry Drollery, 1661, p. 77, andDitto, Compleat, p. 82 and 369. Compare the Harleian MS. version, No. 791, fol. 59, given in our Appendix toWestminster Drollery, p. 38, with note. The romance ofthe Knight of the Sunis mentioned by Sir Tho. Overbury in hisCharacters, as fascinating a Chambermaid, and tempting her to turn lady-errant. “The book is better known under the title ofThe Mirror of Princely Deedes and Knighthood, wherein is shewed the worthinesse of The Knight of the Sunne, &c. It consists of nine parts, which appear to have been published at intervals between 1585, and 1601.” (Lucasta, &c., edit. 1864, p. 13.)

We never met this elsewhere: it was probably written either in 1605, or almost immediately afterwards. Among Robert Hayman’sQuodlibets, 1628, in Book Second, No. 49, is an Epigram (p. 27):—

Of the Gunpowder Holly-day, the 5th of November.ThePowder-Traytors,Guy Vaux, and his mates,Who by a Hellish plot sought Saints estates,Haue in our Kalendar vnto their shame,A ioyfulHoly-daycald by their Name.

Of the Gunpowder Holly-day, the 5th of November.

ThePowder-Traytors,Guy Vaux, and his mates,Who by a Hellish plot sought Saints estates,Haue in our Kalendar vnto their shame,A ioyfulHoly-daycald by their Name.

ThePowder-Traytors,Guy Vaux, and his mates,

Who by a Hellish plot sought Saints estates,

Haue in our Kalendar vnto their shame,

A ioyfulHoly-daycald by their Name.

Jeremiah Wells has among hisPoems on Several Occasions, 1667, one, at p. 9, “On Gunpowder Treason,” beginning “Hence dull pretenders unto villany,” which solemnly conjures up a picture of what might have ensued if (what even Baillie Nicol Jarvie would call) the “awfu’ bleeze” had taken place. [The same rare volume is interesting, as containing a Poem on the Rebuilding of London, after the fire of 1666, p. 112, beginning “What a Devouring Fire but t’other day!”]

With Charles Lamb, we have always regretted the failure of the Gunpowder Plot. It would have been a magnificent event, fully equal to Firmillian’s blowing up the Cathedral of St. Nicholas, at Badajoz; and the loss of life to all the Parliament Members would have been a cheap price, if paid, for such a remembrance. The worst of all is, that, having been attempted, there is no likelihood of any subsequent repetition meeting with better success.Hinc illæ lachrymæ!Faux, Vaux, or Fawkes must have been a noble, though slightly misguided, enthusiast; for he had intended to perish, like Samson, with his victims. All good Protestants now admire the Nazarite, although they bon-fire-raise poor Guido. But then he failed in his work, while the other slayer of Philistines attained success: which perhaps accounts for the different apotheosis. As Lady Macbeth puts it: “The attempt,and not the deed, confounds us!”

A version of this epigram is among the MSS. at end of a volume of “Various Poems,” in the British Museum: Press-mark, Case 39. a. These have been printed by Fred. J. Furnival, Esq., for the Ballad Society, as “Love Poems and Humorous Ones,” 1874. “A Puritane with one of hir societie,” is No. 26, p. 22.

This re-appears in theAntidote against Melancholy, 1661 p. 65; and, with music, in the 1719Pills to p. Mel., iii. 52

This Lady Carnarvon was the wife of Robert Dormer, second Baron Dormer, created Visc. Ascott, or Herld, and Earl of Carnarvon, 2d Aug., 1628. Obiit 1643. He fell at the Battle of Newbury, 20th Sept. (See Clarendon’sHistory of the Rebellion, Book vii. p. 350, edit. 1720, where his merits are recognized.) Her name was Anna-Sophia, daughter of Philip, Earl of Pembroke. The child mentioned in the poem was their son, Charles Dormer, who died in 1709, when the Viscounty and Earldom became extinct. The poem was written at his birth, on January 1st.

We find this, a year earlier, (an inferior version, lacking third verse, but longer,) asCockbodykins, chill, &c., inWit’s Interpreter, p. 143, 1655; and p. 247, 1671. It is a valuable, because trustworthy and graphic, record of the troubles falling upon those who tried to labour on, despite the stir of civil war. 4th verse, “that a vet,” seems corruption of that is fetched; horsesin a hole(W. Int.); vange thy note, istake thy note. (do). Prob. date, 1647.

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