* fll] w !*• « wlW'fe ■#* : .i *•*' u m i f /i.':«5T/' i .M ,:^/s;e^ ;vvm-;> 4 «ui*w* »'# ^*4 11 I ._. ,- --.-• BRANCH, FORNIA, jb ANGELES, CALIF. Tin: V E T 1 C A L D E CAME RON, OR TEN CON VERS J TIONS ON EMiLKSH POETS AND POETRY, I'AHTlCULAlll.Y 01' THE ilictQiis of ©lt?abctfr anti %m\i% £. BY J. PAYNE COLLIER, OK THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. " * .i luuy they r :t >. in those am [Ultk-s, Tint how the tunc was Heil thoy quite t'orgate." '.■apvmtr 1. Q. B. 11, e. 10. /.Y 7'H'O rOiAIME. VOL. 11. PRINTED KIR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH AM ilLKST. KOUINSO.V. AND CO. 1.' II EAl'SJ 1)L. LONDON. !&><). 5 V POETICAL DECAMERON. THE SIXTH CONVERSATION. CONTENTS OF THE SIXTH CONVERSATION. X. Breton's poem in John Hind's very rare novel of EUosto F/ib'uUimxo, 1C0G — How far it is fit to examine the inferior productions of good writers — Breton's " Fancy," and a poem by him among the Royal MSS " EUontos Roundelay," by Robert Greene, extracted and observed upon — The title of Hind's production imitated from R. Greene's " Carde of Fancy" — Pla- giarism from Hamlet in "Holamy's Primrose," 1606 — Quotation from the same — The explanation of " Dolarny's Primrose" — JJiuuhiii, one of the persons in EUosto Libidinoso, meant for the author — Extract from Hind's prose and poetry — How far the progress of Satire in English should be further traced — Character of George Wither — His " Abuses stript and whipt," 1013 — His voluminousness as an author proved by himself in his Fides An- g!ica>iu, l(i(i() — His imprisonment and release on account of his Satire to the King, with specimens — Anecdote of Wither in Hugh Peters' Jests. 1660 — Wither's unpublished MS — His character as a politician and poet — Dedication of his "Abuses stript !{(!, and of" three others then in hand — Another extract from Wither's fourth Satire — The follies and vices of Kings from Sat. 1. Hook II Quotation from Sat. II., " Inconstancy" — Observations— A. Stafford's " Niobe," and " Niobe dissolu'd into a Nilus," Kill — Character of him, and quotation from his book on the degeneracy of nobility — His vision of Sir P. Sidney — Wither on Sir P. Sidney, Drayton, lien Jonson, tVc. in Sat. !?. Hook II Wither's dif- fidence of his own poetical powers, and the boldness of his political tracts — .John Phillips's excessively rare poem on the death and funeral of Sir P. Sidney, lofiy — Specimen and remarks — Sir P. Sidney's panegyric on himself from the same — .Absurdity of the whole construction of the poem — Richard Brathwayte, a satirist, and an imitator of Wither — His " Times Curtaine drawne or the Anatomic of Vanitie," &c. HI'21 — His admiration of Wither — His coarseness of attack, with quotations from his satires — On the poverty of poets, with an extract — Brathwayte on his own drunken habits from his " Health from Helicon" — On translated satires — George Chapman's translation of the fifth Satire of Juve- nal, Hi2!) — The author's age at that day — Quotation from the dedication — His projected translation of the whole of Juvenal and Persius — His contempt of vulgar applause from his " Memorable Masque," 1613 — His " funeral Oration" on burying one of Poppaea's hairs — Specimen of his translation from Juv. Sat. o Remarks upon it, and conclusion of the subject. POETICAL DECAMERON. THE SIXTH CONVERSATION. JDockxe. The last work which occupied us yesterday was a tract by Nicholas Breton. The pamphlet I now present contains a poem by him not found elsewhere, and not noticed by bibliographers. Elliot. I shall be glad to see it, because I have since taken the opportunity of reading some pastoral pieces by him in the reprint of " England's Helicon," and they give me a favourable opinion of his poetical talents. What title has the work in which the poem you refer to is inserted ? Bourxk. It is a novel, or rather one of those early romances which are seldom met with, and are never to be purchased but at a very high price : this is of peculiar rarity : it is called " Eliosto Libidinoso : Described in two Bookes," &c. " Written by Iohn Hynd. At London, Printed by Valentine Simmes," &c. 1606. If I tell you what a copy sold for at the Roxburgh sale, it will give you a notion of its value. G SIXTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. Of its price it may, but not of its value. Morton. Your distinctions are very hair-breadth, but among the collectors of old books the words are synonymous. What did it sell for ? Bourne. Only nine guineas, and if it were put up to auction now I dare say it woidd produce not far short of double that amount. T doubt whether the poem it contains by Breton will increase your respect for his talents. Elliot. Then perhaps it would be as well to omit it. Morton. I beg that we may hear it. Whatever you may wish, I would rather form a correct than too favourable an opinion of an author. Elliot. But would it enable us to form a correct opinion? We might, perhaps, if we could see all he wrote. Bourne. How often have I heard you quote that line of Boileau, Notre Steele est faille en .sols ad- mirateurs, yet now you wish to enlist yourself in the number. Elliot. To reply in another line of the same satirist, I do not wish to be Plus enclin a hlamer que savant ft Men falre. At least, as I have before remarked, there is no more reason for reviving the bad productions of dead authors than for raking up the bad actions of dead men. Morton. Your motto is .SV mains est nequeo lavdare ei poseerc ; but if we cannot arrive at a per- SIXTH CONVERSATION. 7 fectly just conclusion as to a writer's merits and de- fects, let us do the best we can to form a correct notion. Bocrxe. Mere impartiality requires that we should not pass the poem over without notice. This is indeed turning the tables upon us. Elliot. Well, I am content ; let us hear it : the reading will be the least evil of the two : malum quod minimum est, id minimum est malum. A short bad poem is better than a long bad argument. Bourxk. After all it may not be the work of Breton : Hind introduces it as " a fancie which that learned author N. B. hath dignified with respect." Now in the first place, the initials may be those of some other writer than Nicholas Breton, and in the next, it is not said that he was the author of it, but that he " dignified it with respect." Mortox. But can the letters N. B. apply to any other author than Breton ? Bocrxe. No, not that I know of ; but still there remains the second doubt. Elliot. It is not of much consequence whether it be or be not Breton's, for the best poets have written badly: indeed it would be difficult to find any poet, however good, who has at all times written well. Bourxk. A great deal more has been already said about the poem than it is worth, as you will find when it is finished. SIXTH CONVERSATION. " Among the groues the woods & thicks The bushes, brambles, and the briers, The shrubbes, the stubbes, the thornes & prickes, The ditches, plashes lakes and miers : Where fish nor fowle, nor bird nor beast Nor liuing thing may take delight ; Nor reasons rage may looke for rest Till heart be dead of hateful spight : Within the caue of cares vnknowne, Where hope of comfort all decayes, Let me with sorrow sit alone, In dolefull thoughts to end my dayes. And when I heare the stormes arise, That troubled Ghosts doe leaue the graue, With hellish sounds of horrors cries, Let me goe looke out of my caue. And when I see what paines they bide That doe the greatest torments proue, Then let not me the sorrow hide, That I haue sufferd by my loue. Where losses, crosses, care and griefe, With ruthfull, spitcfull, hatefull hate, Without all hope of haps reliefe Doe tugge and tearc the heart to naught : But sigh and say and sing and sweare Ft is too much for one to heare.'' SIXTH CONVERSATION. 9 And so it ends, with a sufficient accumulation of words, and more than a sufficient paucity of ideas. Morton. " It is too much for one to bear," indeed : when you came to the fourth stanza, be- ginning " And when I hear the storms arise," I was in hopes it was improving. Bourne. You cannot expect a despairing but doating lady to be much more than passionate in her poetry. Morton. And her sex may have induced the poet, for the sake of consistency of character, to heap together such a mass of reduplicated words without much meaning. Elliot. I thought your originality would have been above such a reduplicated and threadbare ob- servation, even putting gallantry out of the ques- tion. As to the merits of the poem, I think the in- ternal much outweighs the external evidence, con- sisting, as it does, only of two initial letters : the name is as likely to have been Nathan Benjamin, or any other N. B. as Nicholas Breton. Bourne. I am sure I have no interest in attri- buting the trifle to the poet for whom you have taken such a strong partiality. Elliot. But you ought to have an interest the other way, and that is what I feel. I am anxious that what is wholly unworthy of him should not needlessly be charged against him. Bourne. In that view of it the poem from which 10 SIXTH CONVERSATION. I will now show you a brief extract would bear your examination. It was never printed, and is among the royal 3VISS. having been dedicated to King James : it is rather of a pious and didactic turn, but parts of it are eloquent. Elliot. Tf it do the writer credit I shall be happy to look at it : what is it called ? Bourne. It consists of eight parts : it is the praise of Virtue, Wisdom, Love, Constancy, Patience, Hu- mility and the goodness of God, with a conclusion entitled Gloria in excelsis Deo. Morton. One part, and one only, is mentioned by Ritson : you say you have a specimen of this curiosity ; let us hear it. Bourne. A disconnected quotation will not give you a fair notion of the whole. In describing Virtue he says she is " The soyle wherin all sweetnes ever groweth, the Fountaine whence all Wisedome ever springeth, the winde that never but all blessing bloweth, the Aier that all comfort ever bringeth ; the lire that ever life and love infiameth, the Figure that all true perfection frameth." And " Vpon the praise of Wisedome" he has the following stanza: " Shee feeds no fancy with an idle fashion, yitt fashions all things in a comely frame ; SIXTH CONVERSATION. 11 shee never knew Repentance wofull Passion, nor ever fear'd the blot of wicked blame ; but even and true what ever she intended wrought all so well, that none could be amended." Elliot. As you say, two stanzas can give us no correct idea of a long poem : the verse runs very smoothly, with the exception of the line in the first quotation, where you were obliged to read Air as two syllables. Bourne. That is a trifling defect, and warranted by the practice of the time. I am sorry I made no further extracts when the MS. poem was before me. But leaving Breton now, and his " fancy" in Eliosto Libidinoso, if you take that novel into your hand you will find on the next page another poem ; read that, and tell me whom you think that worthy of. Elliot. I do not see even initials inserted here, so that the guess is still wider. You mean the piece entitled " Eliostoes Roundelay" Bourne. I do, and which, it is stated, is borrowed from " a worthy writer." Who was that worthy writer ? Elliot. According to your account nearly all the poets of Elizabeth's reign were worthy writers, so that I shall be as wide of the mark as ever. Morton. Perhaps there is something said in the poem to let us into the secret. Bourne. No, but it is by a man of the highest 12 SIXTH CONVERSATION. eminence and notoriety of that time — no less than Robert Greene, of whom we have heard so much, and who was unquestionably a first-rate poet. Read the Roundelay, and I will give you very satisfactory- proof afterwards why I say it is his. Elliot. It is somewhat of the longest, but if it indeed be Greene's I dare say I shall not regret it. " Eliostoes Roundelay. " Sitting and sighing in my secret muse ; As once Apollo did, surpris'd with Lone, Noting the slipperie waies young yeares doe vse, What fond affects the prime of youth doth moue : With bitter teares despairing I doe crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. When wanton age, the blossome of my time, Drew me to gaze vpon the gorgeous sight, That Beautie pompous in her highest prime l'resents to tangle men with sweet delight : Then with despairing teares my thoughts doe crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie." This is very different sort of stuff to that which you wished to palm just now on Breton : at least, here we have beautiful versification. It proceed-, " When I suruaid the riches of her lookes, Where-out flew flames of neuer quencht desire.. Wherein lay baites that Venus snares with hookes, Or where prowd Cupid sate, all arm'd with lire ; SIXTH CONVERSATION. 13 Then toucht with Loue my inward soule did crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. The milke-white Galaxia of her browe, Where Loue doth daunce Lauoltaes of his skill, Like to the Temple where true Louers vow To follow what shall please their mistresse will : Noting her Iuorie front, now doe I crie, AVoe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. Her face like siluer Luna in her shine, All tainted through with bright vermillian straines, Like Lillies dipt in Bacchus choicest wine, Powdred and inter-seam'd with azur'd vaines ; Delighting in their pride now may I crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. The golden wyers that checker in the day Inferiour to the tresses of her haire ; Her Amber trammels did my heart dismay, That when I lookt, I durst not ouer-dare : Prowd of her pride, now I am forc't to crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. These fading Beauties drew me on to sin Natures great riches fram'd my bitter ruth ; These were the traps that Loue did snare me in ; Oh these and none but these haue wrackt my youth ! Mis-led by them, I may despairing crie, Woe worth the faults and follies of mine eie. By those 1 slipt from Vertues holy tracke, That leads into the highest chrystall spheare 14 SIXTH CONVERSATION. By these I fell to vanitie and wracke ; And as a man forlorne with sinne and feare, Despaire and sorrow doth eonstraine me crie, Woe worth the faults & follies of mine eie ! " Morton. Though there is some tautology in it, the Roundelay is obviously the work of no mean hand. Elliot. There is a great deal of passion and feel- ing in the stanzas, and even the repetitions, such for instance as the last few lines, are very natural to a man under strong excitement, dwelling on what is most deeply impressed upon his mind. Moktox. The recurrence of the same two lines at the end of every stanza is, 1 think, too artificial for very strong feeling, and but for this I should agree entirely with you. But how does it appear that Greene was the author of it r Bourne. Simply by being found in one of his ac- knowledged productions, of which there must have been several earlier editions, though that in my hand is dated only in 1G21. It is called "Greene's never too late," and elsewhere Greene's Niinquam sera est; a pamphlet, in which, conscience-struck, he laments, under a feigned name, "the faults and follies" of his own ungoverncd youth. Moktox. Perhaps Hind, the author of Eliosio Libidinoso, was a friend of Greene. lioiKXE. Possibly, though there is no proof of the fact: there is proof that he was an admirer and an SIXTH CONVERSATION. 15 imitator of Greene in this very pamphlet, for the whole is an exaggeration of his worst style and most obvious faults. Even the title-page is an imitation of Greene, or more properly, a copy from him. The full title to Greene's " Carde of Fancie" runs thus, " Wherein the follie of those carpet Knights is de- ciphered, which guiding their course by the com- pass of Cupid, either dash their ship against most dangerous Rockes, or else attaine the hauen with paine and perill." Now read Hind's title. Morton. The resemblance is exact: " Wherein their imminent dangers are declared, who guiding the course of their life by the compasse of Affection, either dash their ship against most dangerous shelues, or else attaine the Hauen with extreme preiudice." Elliot. But I should like a specimen from Hind's share of the performance ; I do not care much about the resemblance of the titles. Bourne. I can have no objection, as we shall have time enough to-day to finish the English sa- tirists : you shall hear both Hind's prose and poetry, for he was a versifier also : the prose is introductory of what is called " Dinohins Sonnet ," which Dinohin is, in fact, no other than John Hind, the same letters being used in both names. Morton. In the same way as " Dolarny's Prim- rose" is, in fact, RaynohVs Primrose, though the writer in the British Bibliographer (I. 153), and Dr. Drake, in his " Shakespeare and his Times," were unable to " unriddle the conceit." 16 SIXTH CONVERSATION. Bouhne. That conceit being merely the trans- position of the letters. Dr. Drake, in the very im- perfect and injudicious catalogue he has furnished of the poets contemporary with Shakespeare, has ventured to rank llaynold above mediocrity, and George Peele belorv it: yet the former was one of the most puling writers that ever put pen to paper, and the latter one of the most manly and vigorous. Observe too the following plagiarism from Hamlet in " Dolarny's Primrose," (1006) : a Hermit is mo- ralising upon a skull: " Why might not this haue beene some lawiers pate, The which sometimes brib'd, brawl d, and tooke a fee, And law exacted to the highest rate ? Why might not this be such a one as he : Your quirks and quillets now, Sir, where be they ? Now he is mute and not a word can say." Elliot. The writer had Hamlet in his memory, no doubt, and plagiarism is not too hard a word. Bourxk. 1 only mentioned it incidentally, because it has not been previously noticed. I am sure the originality of such a milk-sop poet as Raynolds is not worth vindicating or disputing. Yet in order to enable you to decide upon the rank he ought really to take, and to ascertain whether there is a pretence for placing him before Peele, of whom you already know something, J cannot resist availing myself of SIXTH CONVERSATION. 17 this opportunity of quoting two stanzas from " Do- larny's Primrose :" he is describing a fair May day. " In garments green the meadowes fayre did ranck it The vallies lowe of garments greene were glad} In garments greene the pastures proud did pranck it, The daly grounds in garments greene were clad : Each hill and dale, each bush and brier were seene Then for to fiorish in their garments greene. " Thus as the medowes, forests and the fields In sumptuous tires had deckt their daynty slades, The florishing trees wanton pleasure yeelds, Keeping the sunne from out their shadie shades : On whose greene leaues vpon each calmie day The gentle wind with dallying breath did play." Elliot. It is very poor certainly, but the lines are not altogether deficient in harmony. Boukxl. Perhaps not, with the assistance of " gar- ments green" five times affectedly repeated, and such combinations as " duly grounds," " shady shades," and " calmy days,'' besides " grovy shades," no less than thrice employed in the course of six stanzas. Moirrox. Let us leave him for Dinohin, alias John Hind. By the by, Golde, in the " Fig for Momus" of Lodge, in the same way may be meant for the author. * Bourne. Xo doubt that is the true explanation, which never occurred to me before. Dinohin is an important personage in the second book of this VOL. II. c IS SIXTH CONVERSATION. pamphlet, and the author, without doubt, meant to shadow himself under the name — this makes it the more curious. The extract I am about to read is from p. 77 of Eliosto Libidinoso. "When Titan, hasting to plunge his fierie chariot in Ty^//vlappe, had gladded Oceanus with his returne."' Elliot. A man who could put together such a sentence as that, could not have an atom of taste, or any notion of propriety — " plunging his fiery chariot in Thetis's lap," is a most extravagant absurdity. 3Iokton. Let us defer our criticisms until the end. Bourxe. Yet the observation is perfectly well founded. " When Titan hasting to plunge his fierie chariot in Thetis lappe, had gladded Oceanus with his returne, the tormented Louer taking a Lute in his hand, went to the place which so late he found, and there did in sad melodie sound foorth his sor- rowes. — Gatesinea wondring to heare musicke at her windowe looked out and discerned her beloued Dinoh'ni, whose affections when shee sawe like her owne, shee was rauished with incredible ioyes, and had presently vttered some signe of her content, had not maidenly modestie, and the presence of her nurce staid her: who perswaded her, that hauing Dinohin at the aduantage, shee should not so easily offer her lone, lest bee might little esteeme it, hauing so lightly got it. The perplexed Loner repairing oft to his accustomed place with more pleasure to Gale- SIXTH CONVERSATION*. 19 sinea than content to himselfe, resolued in the ende to make a full triall of his good or badde fortune, and no more to vse such dumbe demonstrations. Comming therefore late, as he was wont, to the window, he tarried till he perceiued by some signes, that his mistresse was come into her chamber, ac- companied only with her nurce : then fingring his Lute, and framing his voice, he vttered this passionate Dittie, making euery rest a deepe-fetched sigh. Dinohins Sonnet. " I rashly vow'd (fond wretch why did I so r) When I was free that Loue should not inthrall me : Ah foolish boast, the cause of all my woe, And this misfortune that doth now befall me. Loues God incens'd did sweare that I should smart, That done, he shot and strooke me to the heart ! " Sweet was the wound, but bitter was the paine ; Sweet is the bondage to so faire a creature, If coie thoughts do not Beuties brightnesse staine, Nor crueltie wrong so diuine a feature. Loue pittie mee, and let it (mite my cost, By Loue to finde what I by Loue haue lost ! " Heau'ns pride, Earths wonder, Natures pecrelcsse choice Faire harbour of my soules decaying gladnesse ! Yield him some ease, whose faint and trembling voice Doth sue for pittie ouerwhelm'd with sadnesse. 20 SIXTH CONVERSATION. In thee it rests, faire Saint, to saue or spill His life, whose loue is ledde by Reasons will!" Elliot. There is not much to be said against the prose, excepting- where the author attempts to set ■out with a flourish about Titan and Thetis. Bourne. And the poetry is so good, that I am not at all sure that it is Hind's own composition : the two last lines I cannot help fancying that I have read somewhere else. Mortox. I do not see why you should strip every feather from the wings of Hind's Pegasus ; where he has availed himself of the labours of other men, he seems to have acknowledged the obligation. Bocrxe. In one respect he was very original, for to use a phrase of Shakespeare's, he was " a man of fire-new words," though a great imitator of the then discredited Eupheuistic style. Having seen all that is necessary of his production, I suppose there is no objection to our completing what we left unfinished at our last meeting. Elliot. I do not imagine that much remains for us to notice in the class of writers who have pro- duced satirical poetry. Bourxk. If I were to go through those who wrote after 1 600, as minutely as I have done those who wrote before that date, we should not only have a long, but a tedious task vet to execute. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 21 Morton. We want to be amused and informed, not to be wearied and stupefied. Bourne. You need be under no alarm ; I should be quite as reluctant to enter upon that task as yourself; but in quoting a few specimens from two very celebrated authors, I apprehend we shall be rendering our subject sufficiently complete, be em- ploying our time profitably, and obtaining as much amusement as the nature of the inquiry will allow. Elliot. I leave it to your discretion, putting in my protest by the way against any thing tedious. In this respect you are quite free to be dives tibi, pauper amicis: you may keep your knowledge of those numerous authors you hint at to yourself : to the select few I have no objection. Bourne. I have no wish to revive forgotten and neglected trash. Specimens from two writers will conclude our inquiry respecting the origin and pro- gress of satire in English. Elliot And who is the first author, or rather the first satirist, you are about to notice to-day? Bourne. George Wither. Elliot. A name I have often heard, though I have never had an opportunity of seeing more than a few extracts from some of his productions. Bourne. The ridicule of Butler, Pope, and Swift, has contributed to keep him in the back ground longer than many other authors of far less merit : in fact he has been improperly and unfairly estimated, botli by his friends and enemies ; the latter heaping 22 SIXTH CONVERSATION. upon him undeserved censure, and the former un- deserved praise. He was unquestionably a very eminent and notorious, as well as a very caustic satirist. Morton. Of course you refer to his " Abuses stript and whipt." An immense number of pages of the British Bibliographer, or Restituta, I forget which, are occupied by a list of his productions. Bourne. They were excessively numerous: in 1660, at the end of his Fides Anglicana, a prose tract, he himself furnishes a catalogue of no less than eighty-two pieces in prose and verse that had flowed from his pen ; the list you speak of far ex- ceeds that number. He states that his catalogue is incomplete, as his memory could not retain all the titles : besides, he published several other tracts after that date, as he continued to scribble on down nearly to the day of his death in 1 667. According to "Wood he was then seventy-nine years old, having been born in the memorable year of the Spanish Armada. Morton. For his satires he was imprisoned in the Marshalsea, and afterwards, as is stated, liberated in consequence of publishing another satire to the king, justifying his first production. Bourne. So it is said, but I never could learn on what authority the assertion rested. I believe it is a fact, that the satire to the king was written while he was in confinement, and that he was released soon afterwards. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 23 Elliot. Most likely, then, it depends merely upon inference. Bourne. You may judge from the following lines in that satire to the king, that the author was not very humble or contrite for his past offences. " But know I'me he that entred once the list Gainst all the world to play the Saiyrist: Twas I that made my measures rough and rude, Dance arm'd with whips amidst the multitude, And vnappalled with my charmed Scrowles Teaz'd angry Monsters in their lurking holes. I'ue plaid with Wasps and Hornets without feares, Till they grew mad and swarmd about my eares. I'ue done it, and me thinkes tis such braue sport, I may be stung, but nere be sorry for't ; For all my grief is, that I was so sparing And had no more in't worth the name of daring." Elliot. Those lines are very fearless and spirited, but I do not think King James, notwithstanding Mr. D'Israeli's vindication of him, was quite the man to liberate the poet who justified instead of apologizing for his crime. Bourne. Some lines rather of a petitioning cha- racter are inserted ; but still even there the author maintains that he was in the right. He says, " But why should I thy fauour here distrust That haue a cause so knowne, and knowne so just? Which not alone my inward comfort doubles But all suppose me wrong'd that heare my troubles. 24 SIXTH CONVERSATION. Nay, though my fault were Keall, I beleiue Thou art so Royall, that thou wouldst forgiue j For well I know thy sacred Maiesty Hath euer been admir'd for Clemencie, And at thy gentlenesse the world hath wondred, For making sunshine where thou mightst haue thundred." Morton. That savours a little of flattery, does it not ? Bourne. Were it written by any man but Wither, 1 should think so too, perhaps; but being from his free pen, I take it as a testimony of some value in behalf of the character of James I. Morton. Wither was imprisoned more than once: according to the sketch of his life in the British Bibliographer, he was sent to the Tower. Bourne. Yes, many years afterwards: he was confined there for three years, and was forbidden the use of pen, ink, and paper. Regarding one of his political tracts, called " the Perpetual Parlia- ment," 1 found the following story in the " Tales and Jests of Mr. Hugh Peters," 1660, which I have not any where seen extracted, and which serves to show, among many other testimonies,, that poor Wither, from his political principles more than from any other cause, was not very highly esteemed by his contemporaries. " How Mr. Peters jeered the Poet Withers. " George Withers turning wrote a poem in which SIXTH CONVERSATION. 25 lie predicted the continuance of a free state, called it the Perpetual Parliament ; a little after the Parlia- ment was dissolued, and Mr. Peters meeting; the said Mr. Withers told him he was a pitifull Prophet and a pitifull Poet, otherwise he had not wrote such pre- dictions for a pitifull Parliament." Morton. Which story, I feel little doubt, is a mere malignant fabrication 3 for Peters would not have dared to say, nor Wither endured to hear what is there stated. Bourne. 1 am of your opinion. I forgot to men- tion, that among the eighty-two pieces Wither enumerates as his in 1GG0, are many in MS. which are stated to have been lost : one of them must have been very curious, " The pursuit of Happiness, being a character of the extravagancy of the Authors Af- fections and Passions in his youth." He was a very bold man in politics, and did not scruple to put into Oliver Cromwell's own hands four addresses or re- monstrances on his " duties and failings." Morton. His excellence as a poet, and especially as a pastoral poet, is now, I believe, admitted. Bourne. By all who know any thing about him ; but there is still a great number who, when his name is mentioned, cover their ignorance of his merit under the cloak with which the authors of Hudibras, the Dunciad, and the Battle of the Books, have fur- nished them. Elliot. He seems to be a man about whom, and £6 SIXTH CONVERSATION. whose writings, a strong and peculiar interest may be felt. Bourne. As a poet, using the word in its latitude, he wants fancy and imagination, though his versi- fication is usually uncommonly easy, and his thoughts just and natural : his chief talent was for satire and moral instruction, and of this you Avill be able to judge by a few short specimens from his " Abuses stript and whipt," the first edition of which, dated in 1613, is here. Elliot. I hope you do not intend to abridge your extracts too much. Bourne. You shall regulate their length yourself: Wither's Pastorals, his " Mistress of Philarete" and many other pieces, have been often criticised, but the satires before us have been comparatively little quoted, though, in my opinion, deserving (mite as much, if not more, attention. The first thing to be remarked is the curious dedication of the book (per- haps in imitation of Marston), to himself, " whom (he says) next God, my Prince and Country I am most engaged vnto." Morton. ]S'ot being able, I suppose, to gain a patron for his severity. Bourne. That is one of the reasons he assigns : among some epigrams that precede the satires, is one " to the Satyromastix," which shows the fear- lessness with which he undertook and completed his labours. It contains the following lines: SIXTH CONVERSATION. 27 " What? you would faine haue all the great ones freed ? They must not for their vices be controld : Beware ! — that were a saucinesse indeed ; But if the great ones to offend be bold I see no reason but they should be told." Morton. The Frenchman made an empty boast of his courage when he said, Je tie puis rien nommer si ce nest pas son nam, J'appelle un chat un chat, et Rolet unfripon, but he took special care to name nobody whose anger could do him injury in the quarter which he most aimed to please. Bourne. Wither says elsewhere, that he only names the vices, not those who flourished in them, and he makes no vain pretensions to individual de- signation : yet the result showed the truth of what Lod. Barry excellently says in his Ram Alley, in Dodsley's Collection, " All great mens sins must still be humoured, And poor mens vices largely punished : The privilege that great men have in evil Is this — they go unpunish'd to the Devil." Elliot. Exceedingly well; but I am longing to see something more by the satirist in your hand. Bourne. The following quotation is from the first satire of the first book " Of the passion of Love." <28 SIXTH CONVERSATION. " Counsels in vaine, cause when the fit doth take them Reason and understanding doth forsake them ; It makes them som-time merry, som-time sad, Vniam'd men mild, and many a mild man mad.** That one to gold compares his Mistris haire When tis like fox-fur ; and doth thinke shees faire, Though she in beauty he not far before The Swart West Indian, or the tawny Moore. Oh those faire star-like eyes of thine, one sayes, When to my thinking she hath lookt nine waies : And that sweet breath, when I thinke (out vpon't) Twould blast a flower if she breathed on't. * * * Then there is one who hauing found a peere, In all things worthy to be counted deere. Wanting both Art and heart his mind to breake, Sets sighing: fivoe is me) and will not speake; All company he hates is oft alone, (irowes Melancholy, weepes, respecteth none, And in dispaire seekes out a way to dye, When he might liue and find a remedy. — But how now ? Wast not you, saies one, that late So humbly beg'd a hooac at beauties gate? AVas it not you that to a female Saint Indited your Aretophils complaint?*** To him I answere that indeed en'e I Was lately subiect to this malady; Like 't what 1 now dislike, emploi'd good times J n the composing of such idle Rimes SIXTH CONVERSATION. 29 As are obiected : From my heart I sent Full many a heauy sigh and oft-times spent Vnmanly teares : I haue I must confesse. * * * In many a foolish humor I haue beene, As well as others ; looke, where I haue seene Her ftvhom I loiid) to walke, when she was gone Thither I often haue repair'd alone ; As if I thought the places did containe Something to ease me (oh exceeding vaine ! ) Yet what if I haue beene thus idly bent, Shall I be now asham'd for to repent ? Moreouer, I was in my child-hood than And am scarce yet reputed for a Man ; And therefore neither cold, nor old, nor dry, Nor cloi'd with any foule desease am I : Tis no such cause that made me change my minde; But my affection that before was blind, Rash and vnruly, now begins to find, That it hath run a large and fruitlesse race And thereupon hath giuen Reason place. * * Yet for all this, looke, where I lou'd of late I haue not turn'd it in a spleene to hate : No, for 'twas first her Vertue and her Wit, Taught me to see how much I wanted it ; Then as for Loue, I doe allow it still I neuer did dislik't, nor neuer Avill, So it be vertuous, and contein'd within The bounds of Reason ; but when t'will begin To run at randome and her limits breake, I must, because I cannot chuse but speake. SO SIXTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. There is not only uncommon ease in the running of the lines, but frequently great force in the very familiarity of the expressions. We have no right to complain that he is not very original on such a theme. Bourne. The number and variety of his works prove, that he must have composed with very great rapidity. These satires were written in 1611, when the author was only 23 years old, and for that age they show great acuteness and extent of observation. Morton. In the beginning of the extract Wither seems to allude to some work of his own, under the title of " Aretophils Complaint." Is that extant ? Bourne. It is not, though some have confounded it with his poem of " the Mistress of Philarete." — "Aretophils Complaint" (which he afterwards called " Philaretes Complaint") is mentioned by Wither as one of his earliest pieces in the catalogue I before spoke of, and he there states that it was lost in manuscript. It was most likely addressed to the lady he alludes to in what I just read, and who rejected him. We will proceed to the fourth Satire on Envy, where the passion is thus happily described : " But what is this, that men are so inclind And subiect to it ? How may't be defin'd ? Sure, if the same be rightly vnderstood, It is a griefe that sjmngsfrom others good, And vexes them if they doe but heare tell That other mens endeauors prosper "well : SIXTH CONVERSATION. 31 It makes them grieue when any man is friended, Or in their hearing praised or commended. Contrariwise againe, such is their spight, In other mens misfortunes they delight j Yea, notwithstanding it be not a whit Vnto their profit, nor their benefit. Others prosperitie doth make them leane ; Yea it deuoureth and consumes them cleane : But if they see them in much griefe, why that Doth onely make them iocund, full & fat. Of Kingdomes ruine they best loue to heare And tragicall reports doth onely cheere Their hellish thoughts 5 and then their bleared eie9 Can looke on nothing but blacke infamies, lleprochfull actions, and the fowlest deeds Of shame that mans corrupted nature breeds : For they must wink when Vertue shineth bright For feare her lustre mar their weakned sight." In the last line her is misprinted their: it is an obvious error, which I corrected. Mortox. And makes nonsense of the conclusion of a fine passage. Elliot. It is a fine passage upon the whole, though there are weak lines in it. The qualities of Envy have seldom been better described by any of the thousand writers that have touched it. The finest character that Churchill ever wrote, I mean that in the beginning of his Rosciad, is not much better than part of what you have just read. 32 SIXTH CONVERSATION. Morton. I remember reading in old Gower's Confessio Amantis, where he introduces the well known fable of vEsop, the following- lines regarding Envy, which remind one of Wither. " Where I my selfe may not auaile To sene another mans trauaile, I am right glad if he be lette, And though I fare not the bet, His sorrow is to myn herte a gaine." Bourne. And in another place he describes the envious as " sicke of another mans hele," which is just the same as Wither's line " It is a grief that springs from other's good." Elliot. That of course has been its chief cha- racteristic from the earliest times, without it it is not Envy ; tristitia de bonis alienis. Churchill, whom I before mentioned, carries it one degree further ; " With that malignant envy which turns pale And sickens even if a friend prevail/' which is a line addition, and constitutes his su- periority. Bourne. Whetstone, who is not generally a fa- vourite with me, in his •'English Myrror," 1586', has rather a good saying on the subject of Envy : if a man " be enuious, (says he) he dare not recyte so much as the name of enuie ; the reason is, this pas- sion is so fowle and infamous, as it stinketh in the opinion of him that is infected therewith." SIXTH CONVERSATION. 33 Morton. Is not that " English Myrror" one of the books you promised to show us, but have not yet performed your promise ? Bourne. Not that I remember, but here it is if you wish to see it. Elliot. Does it contain any thing worth seeing? Bourne. Many things, but principally in a histo- rical point of view, as it refers to various events in the reign of Elizabeth previous to its date (1586), and more especially to the conspiracies against the Queen. It is called, "The English Myrror. A Re- gard, wherein all estates may behold the Conquests of Enuy." This is the subject of the first book j the second is called " Enuy conquered by Vertue," mean- ing the virtue of the Queen, and the third, " A for- tresse against Enuy." Morton. Is any poetry interspersed in the vo- lume r Bourne. Yes ; but not much, and that bad, as you can judge from the subsequent specimen, which you may take my word for it is the best : he has been referring to Dionysius and Damocles in Book II. " There is no fort that seemeth safe or strong, There is no foode, that yeeldes a sauery tast 5 The sweetest Lute and best composed song, The chirping byrds that in the woods are plast Sound no delight, but as a man forlorne, The silent night doth seeme an vgly hell, VOL. II. I) 34 SIXTH CONVERSATION. The softest bedde a thycket full of thorne, Vnto the heart where tyranny doth dwell : Whose mind presents, through horror and through dread, A naked sword still falling on his head." Elliot. Those lines certainly justify the opinion you have given. Bourne. He was but an indifferent poet, though he wrote much, and particularly elegiac or funeral poems, one of which, on Sir I\ Sidney, I formerly noticed ; he refers to some of these in the dedication to the third book of his English Myrror, where he says that several " worthy personages, which in my time are deceased, haue had the second life of their vertues bruted by my Muse." Morton. Can you refer us to any particular part worth reading ? Bourne. The whole is well worth reading as a work of much study and learning, now and then diversified with a humorous tale or anecdote ; as the following of a Vicar of Croydon before the re- formation, who kept a" daughter of the game" in his vicarage, being of course forbidden to marry. " As (says Whetstone) hee thought to take away all suspi- tion of his misbehauiour, made a vehement Sermon against Lecherie, and agravated the vengeaunces of that sinne, with all the authorities which he could recite in the Scripture; earnestlie exhorting SIXTH CONVERSATION. 35 his Parishioners, to cleanse the towne of that damna- ble & filthie iniquitie : whereuppon one of the Church-wardens (that knew the Viccar had violated his vowe) cryed out, Master Viccar if you will giue vs example, by purging the Church-yarde, wee will bee careful to cleanse the rest of the Parish. The Viccar smelling the meaning of the Church-warden, pleasantlie to huddle vp the matter, replied that the Church-warden spake without reason 5 for, quoth he, the Church-yarde is the appointed place to re- ceiue the most filthie Carrion of the worlde ; and withall wished the people not to mistake him, for he onely spake of the sinne, but meddled not with the sinner." Elliot. That is fair enough. Bourne. And the author's application of the jest is better : I could point out other amusing extracts, but it is scarcely worth while now to go out of our way for them. Speaking of Physicians in the first book lie states that " a gentleman of Vermis" (for Whet- stone had travelled in Italy, as he mentions else- where) " one a time supping with a Phisition in Padua, marueiled that the Phisitions, who in shorte space finde a remedie for the most violent newe disease that raigneth, can not cure as well as giue ease to the Gowt, an auncient maladie. Which doubt, the Doctor thus pleasauntly resolued. () Sir, (quoth hee) the Gowte is the proper disease of the riche, and wee liuc not by the poorej it may sullice 36 SIXTH CONVERSATION. that they finde ease; but to prescribe a cure, to beggar our facultye, were a great follye." Morton. And to the present day they have kept up the artifice ; only with this difference, that now they seem to find it their interest not even to give the sufferer any ease under his torments from " arthritic tyranny," as Dr. Johnson calls it in one of his minor poems. Elliot. Massinger, in his "Emperor of the East/' has a passage somewhat similar, where Paulinus is discovered with the gout, attended by a surgeon, who for a time has lessened the acuteness of his pain 3 Paulinus says that he would give the moiety of his fortune to ensure a continuance of his respite, and the surgeon answers, " If I could cure The gout, my Lord, without the Philosopher's stone I should soon purchase ; it being a disease In poor men very rare, and in the rich The cure impossible." Bourne. He means impossible from the habitual luxuriousness of their habits : Whetstone's Physician said a cure was impossible from a very different and politic cause. Morton. It would not have done for the surgeon to have actually told Paulinus, suffering under the disease, that it was against the interest of the faculty to discover and introduce a cure. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 37 Bourne. We will now close Whetstone's "English Myrror," and before we leave him just look at his " Mirour for Magestrates of Cyties," 1584, which is a rarer work, and is directed against the practices at Dicing Houses, Taverns, Ordinaries, Stews, &c. in the city. The latter part of this pamphlet, called " An Addition : or Touchstone for the Time," is the most curious, though perhaps not so much so, as the title would lead one to expect. He inveighs with great zeal against the corruptions of his day, but in terms rather too general, and he had reason to abuse them, for at the end he states that he had been a great sufferer. " No man (he observes) was euer assaulted with a more daungerous strategeme of cosonage than my selfe with which my life and liuing was hardly beset. No man hath more cause to thanke God for a free deliuery than my selfe, nor anie man euer sawe more suddaine vengeance in- flicted vpon his aduersaries, than I my selfe of mine." Morton. He gives no particulars, does he, of his narrow escape and signal revenge ? Bourne. None, but he refers to his " Rocke of Regarde." I will not go through his violent abuse of gaming houses, ordinaries, &c. but merely (as we shall have occasion to look at the tract again) read the following singular anecdote, told of one of the judges of his time. " Olde Judge Chomley euermore aunswered naughtie liuers that sued for mercie desiring him to regard the frailtie of young 38 SIXTH CONVERSATION. men by the boldc and unlawful actions of his owne youth, and by the testimonie of his grace, good for- tune, and present authoritie, to conceiue hope of their amendment : O my friendes, (moth the Judge, I tel you plainly that of twentie that in those dayes were my companions, I onely escaped hanging, and it is very like that some one of your fellowship is by Gods goodncsse reserued to be an honest man; but you are found offenders by theLawe, and truely ius- tice (whose sentence I am sworne to pronounce) com - maundeth me to commend your soules to Almightie (md, and your bodies to the Gallowse." Elliot. lie was determined, at all events, that none of those before him should have a chance of reforming, and becoming an honest man. Bourne. Although Whetstone was rather a vo- luminous author, there are circumstances to show that he was not popular, and among them the fact that as ins printer, Richard Jones, could not sell his " Mirour for Magistrates of Cyties" under that title (though sulliciently taking one would have imagined, recollecting the great popularity of a work well known, and with nearly a similar name) he re- published it in 1586 under the new title of " The Knemie of \ nthryftinesse, (Nc. discouering the vn- sufferable Abuses raigning in our happie English comon wealth :" the title-page is the only dif- ference, ;is all the body of the work is the identical impression of 1.">S4, a number of copies remaining SIXTH CONVERSATION. 39 on hand, notwithstanding a sort of advertisement by the author at the end of his " English Myrror," Morton. Then it contains no alterations or ad- ditions of any kind. Bourne. I was in error when I said that the title only was new, because at the back of it there is another novelty of some interest — I mean a list of the Avorks which Whetstone had published up to 1586 : they are arranged as follows, but not chrono- logically, as you will see in a moment. " 1 The Enemie of Vnthryftinesse 2 The Itocke of Regarde 3 The honourable Reputation and Morall Ver- tues of a Souldier 4 The Heptameron of Cyuill Discourses 5 The Tragicall Comedie of Promos & Cassandra (J The lyfe and death of M. G. Gascoyne 7 The lyfe and death of the graue & honorable Maiestrat Sir Nicholas Bacon, late L. keeper 8 The lyfe and death of the good L. Dyer i) The lyfe and death of the noble Earle of Sussex 10 A Mirrour of true Honor shewinge the lyfe, death and Yertues of Frauncis Earle of Bed- forde." To these are added, " BooJces ready to be printed." " 11 A Panoplie of deuises 1 c 2 The English Mirour 13 The linage of Christian Iuslice.' 40 SIXTH CONVERSATION. This list, not hitherto mentioned, J apprehend will settle some doubtful points, as to the works of Whetstone. Elliot. But are they worth settling ? Bourne. Perhaps not, or not worth much labour in settling. In the last page but one of his " Touch- stone for the Time " the author speaks of a forth- coming work called " The Blessings of Peace," but I fancy that this was included in the f< English Myrror," as much of the third book is devoted to that subject. Elliot. I think you have now had scope enough for your antiquarian mania, which has been attended, that I can perceive, with no material advantage, unless it be one to divert us from the course we were pursuing. How we travelled backwards from Wither to Whetstone I know not. Morton. And I "very little care, as long as we gain the object we have in view. Bourne. Well, I have done. We will now return to Wither's " Abuses stript & whipt." I must say, however, that you have had your share of entertain- ment out of the jokes I read, both of the Vicar of Croydon, and of the Physician and the Gout. Morton. He is only in the ordinary case ; affect- ing a little to despise what he does not understand. But let us go on with Wither. Bourne. What I am now going to read is in the same satire as our last extract : he is touching upon the manner in winch envy affected even him : SIXTH CONVERSATION. 41 " So I haue found The blast of enuy flies as low's the ground, And though it hath already brought a man Euen vnto the meanest state it can Yet tis not satisfied, but still diuising Which way it also may disturbe his rising : This I know true, or else it could not be That any man should hate or enuy me, Being a creature (one would thinke) that's plast Too low for to be toucht with amies blast : And yet 1 am ; I see men haue espi'd Some-thing in me too that may be enui'd ; But I haue found it now, and know the matter ; By reason they are rich, and He not flatter ; Yes 5 and because they see that I doe scorne To be their slaue whose equall I am borne." Elliot. That is closed in a fearless spirit of in- dependence : the whole extract is eloquent. Mortox. It is a touch of the levelling republican which "Wither afterwards turned out to be. Bourne. I think you mistake ; he is there speak- ing only of his equality with the rich in being the work of God, with the same faculties and under- standing. There is no more republicanism there than some of the most loyal, not to say the most flattering, poets have at times expressed. Skelton, who cannot be charged with too much independence of mind, even in the reign of Henry ATI I., speaks 42 SIXTH CONVERSATION. quite as freely in his interlude of " Magnificence," printed by Rastell. " Or how can you proue that there is felycyte And you haue not your ownc fre lyberte; To sporte at your pleasure to ryn and to ryde ? "Where lyberte is absent set welthe aside." Mortox. He is alluding, I fancy, to mere personal freedom from restraint, which is quite a different thing*. lie might state that without any chance of giving offence. Bourne. What you say is true : I allow too, that throughout Wither speaks with the utmost plain- ness, and gives more than glimpses of the part he was afterwards to take as a supporter of a republican government : for instance, the following lines upon the follies and vices of Kings are very strikingly in point, and rendered more emphatic by Italics. " Princes haue these — they uery basely can Sailer themselues that haue the rule of man, To be oreborne by Villaines ; so in steed Of kings they stand, when they are slaues indeed. IjV blond & wrong a heauenly Crowne thei'l danger, '.["assure their state heere (Often to a stranger.) They quickly yeeld vnto the Batteries Of sly insinuating flatteries : Most bountiful] to fooles — to full of feare, And far to credulous of that they heare : SIXTH CONVERSATION. 43 So giuen to pleasure, as if in that thing Consisted all the Office of a King !" (Book II. Sat. I.) Morton. Yet we have seen that he thought well of King James. Bourne. And spoke well of him too, as he does only a few lines afterwards: he says that he cannot " but speak well" of him, and that no sovereign had ever less vanity — about the last weakness, in our sense of the word, from which we should have been inclined to exempt him : however, the poet applies it in a much more extended way. Elliot. As empty ostentation, vanity, or pride in equipages, apparel, and so on. Bourne. Exactly. As we have seen how he treats I'rinees, we will now read a very spirited passage about nobles, from the second satire of the second book, entitled Inconstancy. « Nobility That comes by birth hath most antiquity, Some thinke ; and tother (if at all They yeeld as noble) they an vpstart call : But I say rather no — his XobIencs.se Thats rais'd by Vertue hath most tvorthinesse, And is most ancient, for it is the same By which all Great men first obtaind their Fame. So then 1 hope 'twill not offend the Court , That 1 count some there with the Vulgar sort, 14 SIXTH CONVERSATION. And outset others : yet some thinke me bold. Because there's few that these opinions hold ; But shall I care what others thinke or say ? There is a path besides the beaten way !" Elliot. Admirable ! I know of nothing liner in its way, either ancient or modern. Morton. I was afraid when we came to the lines — " But I say rather no — his nobleness That's rais'd by virtue hath most worthiness/' that he was going to end the sentence as he had begun it ; but what a striking and noble close is formed by the couplet — " And is most ancient — for it is the same By which all great men first obtain'd their fame." Elliot. It goes far beyond the common-place of antiquity — Animus Jacit nobilcm, cut ex quacunque conditione , &c. Bourne. Jt is a very noble thought, and produces the better effect from its being, as they say, prater expectatum. The last two lines of the quotation do not fall short of the rest. Elliot. In Ascham's " Schoolmaster" I remember a very eloquent censure of mere nobility transmitted with the blood, ending with these words, " Nobility without virtue and wisdom is blood indeed, but blood truly without bones & sinews." SIXTH CONVERSATION. 45 Bocrxe. Anthony Stafford, a writer I have often quoted, is not behindhand when he says, in his Niobe dessolud into a Nilus (16T1), " I can brooke better a fellow that hath bought his new-found nobility with nobles, than another of an high birth and of a low stooping spirit, who can iustly brag of nothing of his owne, but liues upon the supererrogative deeds of his ancestors."' Morton. I dare say one might collect as many excellent sayings upon this stale theme, as upon any that has been dwelt upon either in the old time or in the new. Elliot. That Stafford seems to have been an eloquent fellow : I should like to be better acquainted with him. I remember you, in a manner, proved that Milton was well acquainted with his writings. Bourne. He seems to have been a strange wild enthusiast, upon religious topics especially : as a puritan he was very much like what Robert Southwell was as a Jesuit. Elliot. What is the object of his book ? Bourne. It is in two divisions, one called " Niobe,''' and the other " Niobe dissolu'd into a Nilus;" and it is a general but vigorous declamation against the vices and profaneness of the age. — In his "Niobe" (p. 1 12), he has the subsequent passage on the subject to which we have been referring, which will give you some notion of his style. " O ! but Gentry now degenerates! Nobilitie is now come to be inula re- Hi SIXTH CONVERSATION, latio, a meere bare relation and nothing else. How manie Flayers haue I seene vpon a stage, fit indeede to be Noblemen! how many that he Noblemen, iii onely to represent them. — Why, this can Fortune do, who makes some companions of her Chariot, who for desert should be lackies to her Ladiship. Let me want pittie if I dissolue not into pittie when I see such poore stuffe vnder rich stuffe ; that is a bodie riehlie clad, whose mind is capable of nothing but a hunting match, a racket-court, or a cock-pit, or at most the story of Susanna in an ale-house. Rise, Sidney, rise ! thou Englands eternall honour ! Reuiue and lead the reuolting spirits of thy countrey- men, against the basest foe, Ignorance. But what talke I of thee? Heauen hath not left earth thy equall: neither do 1 thinke that ah orbe condito, since Nature first was, any man hath beene in whom Genus and Genius met so right. Thou Atlas to all vertues ! Thou 1 Iereules to the Muses ! Thou patron to the poor! Thou deservst a Quire of ancient Burdi to sing thy praises, who with their musickes melody might expresse thy soules harmonic. Were the transmigration of soules certaine — I would thy soule had Hitted into my bodie or wold thou wert aliue again, that we might lead an indiuiduall life together ! Thou wast not more admired at home then famous abroad ; thy penne and thy s\\ ord being the J I< rabies of thy Heroieke deedes." And in this strain he pro- ceeds for several pages more. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 17 Morton. The style is very peculiar, and though pedantic and affected, there is much force about it. Bourne. He is full of rhapsodies, but they are eloquent ; and he was evidently both a very pious and a very learned man. There were two editions of his work, which is now rarely to be met with ; and it seems that after the first was published (to which the " Niobe Dissolu'd into a Nilus" was not added), he was not a little ridiculed for the passage I have just read, where he appears to put himself in com- parison with Sir Philip Sidney. This angered him not a little, and accordingly to the second edition he prefixed an address " to the long-ear'd Reader,'' in which he repels the -charge, maintaining, at the same time, that Sir P. Sidney had actually shown himself to him in a vision. Elliot. This was only rendering it still more laughable. Bourne. Certainly, but he relates it with the most simple seriousness, and adds, that the " miracle of nature" addressed him in these terms : " Generous Gentleman, whose neuer-glozing spirit this fawning age will neuer reward, my soule bowes herselfe to thee, and breathes her loue vpon thee, for making her immortall to all mortalitie : a benefit for the which Ingratitude herselfe would yeeld thanks." Elliot. He was very likely a man of strong feel- ings, but he must have had a weak judgment to suppose that he would be believed in this strange story, even at that credulous day. 4S SIXTH CONVERSATION. Bourne. He expressly says that it will be attri- buted to his wild and fervid imagination, but he nevertheless insists upon the perfect truth of what he relates. Morton. In turning over Wither, I have stumbled upon a passage that refers to Sir Philip Sidney. Bourne. It is one which I had intended to show you, as it mentions not only Sidney but Drayton, Ben Jonson, and several other poets. Bead it. Morton. It is in the third satire of the second book. He has been speaking of King James's works, and of the general value of poetry ; that though the inspiration is only partially given to some few in this life, " All shall have't perfect in the World to come," and then he proceeds. " This in defence of Poesic to say I am compel'd, because that at this day JVcakencssc and Ignorance hath wrong'd it sore : But what neede any man therein speake more Then Diuinc Sidney hath already done ? From whom (though he deceas'd e're I begun) I haue oft sighed, and bewail' d my Fate That brought me foorth so many yeeres too late To view that ivort/iy; And now, thinke not you, Oh Daniel, Draiton, lonson, Chapman, how I long to see you with your fellow Peeres ; Diuinc Siluedcr, glory of these yeeres! I hitherto haue onely heard your fames And know you yet hut by your workes and names. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 4 9 The little time I on the earth haue spent, Would not allow me any more content : I long to know you hetter that's the truth ; I am in hope you'l not disdaine my Youth." Elliot. A very amiable, diffident young man, and a very laudable wish. Bourne. I do not think that in any thing I have read by Wither, he can be fairly accused of arrogance, though he takes upon himself to lash the vices of his age: he knew that he loved honesty and in- genuousness, and hated fraud and artifice, and as he could not be mistaken in them, he speaks plainly and fearlessly. His political tracts, in which he at- tempts to produce certain changes and reforms in the state, were written at a much more advanced period of his life. But we have now seen as much of his satires as perhaps is necessary : before, however, we leave Sir P. Sidney, introduced by Wither, let me show you a very great literary curiosity. Mortox. By all means : what is it ? Bourne. I wish it were a work of more intrinsic merit ; but, I assure you, it is of the rarest occur- rence. v Elliot. It generally happens that the greatest rarities are of least actual value, or why, as a living critic has asked, have they become such rarities ? Bourxe. That rule will by no means apply in all cases. 50 SIXTH CONVERSATION. Morton. Do not argue the point, but produce the book : my curiosity of one kind is as great as the book's of another. Bourne. You remember the funeral poem I brought before you by Whetstone on the death of .Sir P. Sidney; this, in my hand, is a production of the same kind on the same subject. Morton. By whom? Bourne. John Phillip or Phillips. Ritson intro- duces him into his catalogue as the author of C!eo- menes and Sophonisba, 1577 5 ' Jl 't the bibliographer had never seen nor heard of this tract, nor of another on the death of the Countess of Lenox, which is almost of equal rarity. Morton. Bead the title, if you please. Bourne. I will, at length, for you may never hear it again. It is this : " The Life and Death of Sir Phillip Sidney, late Lord Gouernour of Flushing : His funerals Solemnized in Paules Churche where he lyeth interred; with the whole order of the mourn- full shewe as they marched thorowe the citie of London on Thursday the 16 of February, 1587- At London. Printed by Robert Waldegraue," &c. ! 587- Morton. And now allow me to take your relic into my own hands. Bourne. The dedication, you will see, is to the Earl of Essex, and signed by the author, but it is not worth reading. SIXTH CONVERSATION. 51 Elliot. Tell us what part of it is worth reading, if you please, and if you can. Boukxe. The poem is in the fashionable style of the Mirror for Magistrates, Sir P. Sidney's ghost very awkwardly relating his own story. I say awkwardly, because he is made, not like the ghosts in the Mirror for Magistrates, to warn their hearers by the story of their failings, vices, and consequent misfortunes, but to recount his own deeds, and to belaud his own virtues most liberally. Morton. That is very absurd and injudicious. It opens, I observe, rather singularly ; " You noble Brutes bedeckt with rich renowne." Elliot. Upon my word, Phillips did not care much to conciliate his hearers, when he calls them brutes: however they are " noble brutes," and " be- deck'd with rich renown." Moktox. That makes some amends. Phillips ought to have been the author of the tract you showed us on " the Nobleness of the Ass." Boukxe. Of course he means by Brutes Britons^ the descendants of Brute, only two syllables did not suit his line. Moktox. I perceive that we shall stop, or be stopped, very soon in our reading of this production. " You noble Brutes bedeckt with rich renowne, That in this world haue worldly wealth at will, Muse not at me, though death haue cut me downe, 1: 2 52 SIXTH CONVERSATION. For from my graue I speake vnto you still. Whilst life I had I neuer meant you ill ; Then thinke on me that close am coucht in clay And know I liue though death wrought my decay. " I neede not I record my bloud ne birth, For why? to you my parentage is knownej My mould was clay, my substance was but earth And now the earth enioyes againe her owne : My race is runne, my daies are ouerthrowne. Yet Lordings list, your patience here I craue, Ileare Sidneis plea discussed from the graue." Elliot. So that the " noble brutes" after all, are Lordings. Upon my word it is wretched stuff. Bourne. " Qicanto io posso dar tutto vi dono." I suppose he could write nothing better. Elliot. Then first, why write at all ; and secondly, if he wrote, why should we read ? Morton. It was worth thus much time, if only for the amusement Mr. John Phillips has afforded us. Bourne. You must hear two more stanzas, and I have done : it is from one of the most ridiculous parts of the piece, where Sidney "rings out a pane- gyric on himself," after applauding Queen Elizabeth to the seventh heavens. " In martiall feates I settled my delight ; The stately steede 1 did bestride with ioj At tilt and turney oft I tride my might, In these exployts I neuer felt annoy. My worthie friends in amies did oft imploy SIXTH CONVERSATION. 53 Themselues with me to breake the shiuring speare ; But now my want they wail with many a teare. " My spoused Avife, my Lady and my lone whilst life I had did know my tender hart, But God that rules the rowling skies aboue Did thincke it meete Ave should againe depart. His Avill is done, death is my dew desart! She Avants her make, I fro my deare am gon ; She liues behind her louer true to morne," Morton. That is not quite sueh extravagant eulogy as I expected. Bourne. It is only the fag-end of it, if I may so say : Sidney is very warm in his admiration of him- self in some places. Elliot. Or rather his spirit is Aery warm in its admiration of his body: recollect thev are noAV di- stinct and separate, and one may praise the other without any charge of egotism. Bourne. But perhaps the greatest absurdity of all is the minute detail the spirit gives of the Avhole solemnity and procession at the funeral of the body. At length the line, " Thus from my grave I bid you all adieu," Avinds up the poem. Elliot. "Was it Avorth while to interrupt our course through the satirists for such a production? Bourne. " Since it is past, all argument is vain." Noav then for Richard Brathwayte, a name with which you are not unacquainted, but whose volume :>4 SIXTH CONVERSATION. of satires and other poems, I fancy., you have never seen, for they are much more scarce than any of his prose pieces. It will not be necessary, however, to read more than one or two extracts, as he was an imitator of George Wither, and by no means equal to his prototype. His title is this: " Times Cur- tain e drawne or the Anatomic of Vanitie with other choice Poems, entituled Health from Helicon ; h\ Richard Brathwayte Oxonian," 1621. Morton. I have seen the title before, but in what way do you trace the imitation of Wither ? Bourne. In the general style of the satires, and in the manner in which the work is disposed. Wither's " Abuses stript and whipt," had attracted much notice, and Brathwayte, early in his production, pro- fesses great admiration for him. In one place he says, in allusion to the punishment Wither had met with, " Tutch not Abuses but with modest lipp For some I know were whipt that thought to whip," adding in the margin this note, " One whom I ad- mire, being no lesse happie for his natiue inuention than excellent for his proper and elegant dimension.' 7 The latter part of the compliment refers to Wither's finely proportioned figure. Elliot. Does Brathwayte take warning by the sufferings of Wither, and " touch abuses but with modest lip ?" Bourne. I think not ; but Wither had been libe- SIXTH CONVERSATION. 55 rated, as some suppose, almost on a repetition of his offence — his satire to the king ; and this, if true, perhaps made his follower more bold : he is even coarser than Wither in some places. In his first satire on Riches, he says of the wealthy, for instance, " For who are wise but Rich-men, or who can Find the golden meane but the golden man r He is Earth's darling, and in time will be Hell's darling too ; for who's so fit as her" Morton. He takes care, I dare say, to make his satire general? Elliot. Yet Pope observes, " The fewer still you name, you wound the more 5 Bond is but one, while Harpax is a score." Bourxe. Or in the words of that satirical song in " the Beggar's Opera," '■ Each cries, that was lcvell'd at me." The subsequent extract on the subject of dress, will show that Brathwayte was a writer of some power. " For who (remebring the cause why cloths were made) Even then when Adam fled vnto the shade For couert of his Nakcducsse, will not blame Himself to glorie in his Parents shame? Weepe, weepe, ( Phantasticke Minion J fur to thee My grieued passion turnes : O may I be Cause of conuersion to thy selfe, that art Compos'd of man, and therefore I beare part 56" SIXTH CONVERSATION. In thy distracted habit : ougly peece (For so I tearme thee) Woman-monster cease ; Cease to corrupt the excellence of minde, By soiling it with such an odious rinde, Or shamelesse Couer ! Waining wauering Moone, That spends the morne in decking thee till noone! Hast thou no other ornaments to weare But such wherein thy lightest thoughts appeare ? Hast thou no other honour, other Fame, Saue roabes which make thee glory in thy shame r" Elliot. That is strenuous enough, and the allu- sion to Adam, with its application, happy. Morton. He seems rougher than Wither: if he do not jerk so keenly, he appears to lay on his scourge more heavily. Bourne. One more specimen from his satires shall suffice for the present, at least. It is from the second, where he is adverting to the usual concomitant of poetry — poverty. Elliot. There is no class of men who complain so bitterly of poverty as poets, who are always, at the same time, boasting that they are above the sordid love of money j yet they are always making them- selves the objects of ridicule by their murmurs. Bourne. They complain most because, probably, they feel most ; and their complaints arc oftenest remembered because they perpetuate them bv put- ting them in black and white : but hear Brathwayte on this point. SIXTH CONVERSATION. f>7 " Take comfort then, for thou shalt see on earth Most of thy coate to be of greatest worth ; Though not in state, for who ere saw but merit Was rather borne to begge than to inherit ? Yet in the gifts of nature we shall finde A ragged coate oft haue a lloyall minde : For to descend to each distinct degree By due experience we the same shall see. If to Parnassus where the Muses are, There shall we finde their Dyet very bare 3 Their houses ruind and their well-springs dry, Admir'd for nought so much as Pouertie. Here shall we see poore yEschi/lus maintaine His nighterne studies with his daily paine, Pulling up Buckets but twas neuer knowne That filling others he could fill his owne. Here many more discerne we may of these, As Lamachus, and poore Antisthenes, Both which the sweetes of Poesie did sipp Yet were rewarded with a staff and scrippj For I nere knew nor (much I feare) shall know it, Any die rich that liu'd to die a Poet." Morton. It would have been more curious if he had made some allusions to those of his own time who were sufferers. Bourne. It would, but he does not hint at any of them. He writes always in a bold and often in an energetic strain : the following six lines commence a poem, in the second division of " Times Curtaine drawne," called " The Great-mans Alphabet." 58 SIXTH CONVERSATION. " Come hither Great-man, that triumphs to see So many men of lower ranke to thee ; That swells with honours, and erects thy state As high as if thou wer't Earths Potentate! Thou whose aspiring buildings raise thy name, As if thou wer't the sonne and heyre of fame." This, you will admit, is very spirited ; and most of the piece is not inferior, though of a grave, moral cast. This is all I think necessary to read from Brathwayte. Morton. If I do not mistake, the title-page men- tions " other choice poems, entitled Health from Helicon," — what are they? Bourne. Chiefly miscellaneous subjects, and not very good. Morton. Nor curious r Bourne. Unless we except the following passage from one of the pieces, called " Ebrius Experiens," in which the author attempts to vindicate his easily besetting- sin, drunkenness. Elliot. Let us hear that, for as the iirst Spectator says, we are always deeply interested about the per- sonal appearance, peculiarities, and habits of authors: Montaigne too remarks, though with a different ap- plication, Jene vols jamah Aid car que jc ue recherche curieusement quclque il a tie. Bourne. The lines, then, are these, " Some say I drinke too much to write good lines ; Indeed, I drinke more to obscruc the Times, SIXTH CONVERSATION. 5«» And for the lone I bear vnto my friend, To hold him chat than any other end. Yea, my obseruance tells me I haue got More by discoursing sometimes o're the pot, Than if I had good fellowship forsooke, And spent that home in poring on a booke." Elliot. There seems nothing very new in his arguments, at least in what you have read. Bourne. Nor in any of them. It is only doing exactly what Sir T. Wyatt censures in some lines (juoted on a former day, viz. giving to every vice the name of the nearest virtue, " as drunkenness good fellowship to call." Elliot. Brathwayte then concludes the series of the English satirists you intend to bring before us? Bourne, lie does; but it cannot, with any pro- priety, be called a scries, for some omissions have been made by design, and a few because the books were of such extreme rarity that I could not procure the use of them. Morton. You have purposely refrained from touching upon translations from the classic satirists, yet, with a view to this subject, I borrowed a very small tract, which my friend assured me was seldom to be met with, though only a translation : it is by an author I have frecpiently heard you praise — Chap- man. Bourne. Satires translated by Chapman? I have never seen any. 60 SIXTH CONVERSATION. Morton. Here is the tract, and the following is its title, " A Justification of a strange action of Nero ; in burying with a Solemne Fvnerall one of the ca.^t Hayres of his Mistresse Poppaeia. Also a iust re- proofe of a Romane smell-Feast, being the fifth Satire of Ivvenall. Translated by George Chap- man," 1629. Bourne. I remember it now, but I have never seen the tract, and Kitson mentions it as two works, when in truth it is only one, which proves that he was in the same condition. It is a very curious piece indeed. Elliot. From that author we have surely a right to expect something more than curious. Morton. I skimmed it over hastily last night, and I am sorry to say that I saw but little in it to admire. Bourne. Perhaps not : we are to recollect that at the time it. was printed the author was not less than 7 f 2 years old, and that during the whole of his long life he had been a laborious writer, living probably entirely by his pen. Morton. Vet at the very time when lie published it, he tells us, in the dedication to Richard Hubert Esq., that he has " some worthier work" in hand: the whole passage is a singular one with reference to himself and his labours, lie first complains, that " greate workes get little regard," adding, ' f as it is now the fashion to iustilie Strange Actions, I (vtterly SIXTH CONVERSATION. 61 against mine owne fashion) followed the vulgar, & assaid what might be said for iustification of a Strange Action of Nero :" he observes next, in terms, that he throws out this piece as a tub to the whale, " hauing yet once more some worthier worke then this Oration, & following Translation, to passe the sea of the land, exposed to the land and vulgar Leuiathan." " The rather because the Translation containing in two or three instances, a preparation to the iustification of my ensuing in- tended Translations, lest some should account them, as they haue my former conuersions, in some places licences, bold ones, and vtterly redundant." Bourne. His " ensuing intended Translation," I conjecture, must have been of the whole of the satires of Juvenal and Fersius, of which this was a foretaste, and which he did not live to complete. Elliot. This tract before us then, was his last production. When did he die, do you recollect ? Bourne. Kitson says, in lb'34, but he refers to no authority. Chapman always, as he has done above, expressed a great disgust at, and contempt for, the applause of the vulgar : particularly in the prefatory matter to his " Memorable Masque" of the Middle Temple and Lincolns Inn (1613), where he is speak- ing of true poets and true poetry. " Euery vulgarly- esteemed vpstart dares breake the dreadfull dignity of antient and authenticall Poesie, and presume Luciferously to proclame in place thereof, repugnant C2 SIXTH CONVERSATION. precepts of their owne spaune. Truth & Worth haue no faces to enamour the Licentious, but vaine- glory and humor : the same body, the same beaut}', a thousand men seeing', onely the man whose bloud is fitted, hath that which he calls his soule ena- moured." Elliot. Yet I dare say he had not half as much reason for his anger as Ben Jonson, when in the " apologetical dialogue" subjoined to his " Poet- aster," in a rage almost sublime, he exclaims, " Oh, this would make a learn'd 3 had ever been described before ; but, excepting the sonnet to Lord Southampton, no part of it has ever been reprinted or quoted. A new leaf is headed, " The most honorable Tragedie of Sir Richard Grinuile Knight," and under it an address " To the Fayrest," which, I suppose, means the poet's mistress. Morton. Not " to the fairest" Elizabeth, the queen ; the subject (according to Mr. Chalmers, in his " Supplemental Apology") of the Sonnets of Spenser and Shakespeare. Bourne. No; it is certain that Markham means some other female, to the full as beautiful, by the following stanza in the address: " To thee fo ire Nymph, my life, my loue, my gaze, My soules first mouer, essence of my blisse, Thought-chast Dictinna, Natures only maze, Heauen of all whatever heauenlie is; More white than Atlas browe or Pelops blaze, Compleat perfection which all creatures misse : More louelie than was bright Astioche Or Ivnos hand-mayd sacred Diope." This is the more clear, because in the last stanza but one of this part of the poem, he expressly turns to Elizabeth, "■ And with her thou great Souereigne of the earth, Onelie immatchlesse monarchesse of harts !" Morton. I suppose you can afford us some quota- tion from the body of Markham's work ? Bourne. Yes; in the following stanzas the poet 94 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. is describing- Sir R. Grenville's eagerness to enter into the engagement with the Spaniards. " Looke how a wanton bridegroome in the morne Busilie labours to make glad the day, And at the noone, with wings of courage borne Recourts his bride with dauncing and with play, Vntil] the night, which holds meane blisse in scorne, By action kills imaginations sway; And then, cuen then, gluts and confounds his thought With all the sweets, conceit or Nature wrought. " Even so our Knight, the bridegroome vnto Fame, Toil'd in this battailes morning with unrest At noone triumph'd, and daunst and made his game, That vertue by no death could be deprest ; But when the night of his loues longings came, Euen then his intellectual soule contest All other ioyes imuginarie were Honour vnconquer'd, heauen and earth held deare. " The bellowing shotte which wakened dead mens swounds, As Dorian musick sweetened in his eares : Ryuers of blood, issuing from fountainc wounds, He pytties but augments not with his teares. The flaming tier which mercilesse abounds, Hee not so much as masking torches feares; The dolefull Eccho of the soules halt' dying Quicken his courage, in their baneful! crying." SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 95 Elliot. It seems, as well as Ave can judge, much in the same puffed-up and heightened strain as Fitz- geffrey, only the latter exceeded his prototype. Bourne. Markham goes on in a similar style for a few more stanzas, and then he represents Mis- fortune (who is personified) descending to destroy Sir Richard Grenville : the poet exclaims ; " O why should such immortall enuie dwell In the inclosures of eternall mould ? Let Gods with Gods, and men with men rebell Vnequall warres, vnequall shame is soul'd ; But for this damned deede came shee from Hell And Ioue is sworne, to doe what dest'r.ie would : Weepe then my pen, the tell-tale of our woe, And curse the fount from whence our sorrowes flowe." Elliot. Most assuredly nothing you have read warrants the extravagant eulogium by Fitzgeffrey. " Quaintly he hath eternized his acts In lasting registers of memory Even co-eternall with eternity ; So that the world envies his happy state That he should live when it is ruinate." Morton. Markham's last stanza ends with a very paltry conceit. In what way docs Misfortune execute her fearful mission ? Bourne. Mot very poetically — by taking a musket and mortally wounding Sir R. Grenville. 96 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. Writing*, as he did, so soon after the event, Markham was probably confined too much by the truth of history to be able to terminate his poem differently. Morton. You remember, perhaps, what Racine says in the preface to his Bojazet, that to a poet the distance of the country where his scene is laid, is of much the same use as the lapse of time, car le petiple tie met giterc de difference entre ce qui est a mille ans de lui, el ce qui est a mille lieues. According to this rule, Markham might fairly have availed himself of some poetical licence in describing the death of his hero. Elliot. That of course must depend upon the notoriety of the facts. Racine's remark applies merely to dramatic poetry, and to the respect enter- tained by audiences for the heroes of tragedies — major e longinquo reverentia. Bourne. It seems agreed on all hands, that Sir R. Grenville was shot, but the time and mode of his death are disputable. Camden, in his Annals, touches the matter very briefly • but here is a scarce con- temporary pamphlet relating to this very conflict : it purports to be " A Report of the Truth of the Fight about the lies of the Azores this last Summer Be- twixt the Revenge, one of her Majesties Shippes, and the Armada of the King of Spaine." It was printed in 1591, and in it the manner of the deatlt of Sir R. Grenville is differently related. I do not SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 97 think that the poet does justice to his subject : you will find by the extracts I am going to read, that ample room was afforded him. The fleet Avas under the conduct of Lord T. Howard, Sir It. Grenville being vice-admiral in the Revenge. Camden charges him with fool-hardy bravery ; and certain it is, that while Lord T. Howard was enabled to escape from the very superior force of the enemy, consisting of nearly sixty ships of various sizes, Sir It. Grenville, according to the pamphlet, was obliged to sustain the brunt of the battle, and fell foul of the San Philip, an enormous vessel of 1500 tons, with " three tire of ordinance on a side, and eleven pieces in euerie tire," and shooting " eight forth-right out of her chase, besides those of her sterne ports." Morton. What was the size and force of the Revenge ? Bourne. That does not appear, but it seems that the odds were fearful, as the English crews were sick, and many on shore : this is a part of the rela- tion. " After the Revenge was entangled with this Philip, foure other boorded her; two on her larboord and two on her starboord. The light thus beginning at three of the clocke in the after noone, continued verie terrible all that evening. P>ut the great San Philip hauing receyued the lower tire of the Revenge discharged with crossbarshot, shifted her selfe with all diligence from her sides, vtterly misliking her first entertainment After many interchanged vol. n. u 98 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. vollcies of great ordinance and small shot, the Spani- ards deliberated to enter the Revenge, and made divers attempts, hoping to force her by the multitudes of their armed Souldiers and Musketiers, but were still repulsed againe and againe, and at all times beaten backe into their own shippes, or into the seas. . . . After the fight had thus without intermis- sion cotinued while the day lasted, and some houres of the night, many of our men were slaine and hurt, and one of the great Gallions of the Armada, and the Admirall of the IJulkes both sunke, and in many other of the Spanish ships great slaughter was made. Some write that sir Richard was verie dangerouslie hurt almost in the beginning of the fight, and laie speechlesse for a time ere he recouered. But two of the Reuenges owne companie, brought home in a ship of Lime from the Ilandes, examined by some of the Lords and others, affirmed that he was neuer so wounded as that hee forsooke the vpper decke, til an houre before midnight ; and then being shot into the bodie with a Musket as he was a dressing, was againe shot into the head, and withall his (Jhirur - gion wounded to death." Morton. I see, by reference, that that statement agrees with what Camden relates, but he adds some- thing about sinking the Revenge. Bourne. He seems to have confounded the two accounts of the death of Sir It. Grcnville: this pam- phlet asserts that there was a second statement of SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 99 that catastrophe, viz. that Sir Richard, in despair of escaping or defeating the enemy, prevailed upon the master gunner to split and sink the ship with all the crew, they having consented ; but terms being sent from the Spaniards, the men were induced to change their resolution, and they and their commander were conveyed on board the enemy. On the second or third day Sir Richard died of his wounds ; and the pamphlet adds, " the comfort that remaineth to his friendes is, that he hath ended his life honourably in respect of the reputation wonne to his nation and country, and of the same to his posteritie, and that being dead, he hath not outliued his owne honour." Elliot. The prose tract ends more poetically than Markham's poem, and the whole narrative of the unequal contest seems distinct and striking. Bourne. It is : there are parts of the " Tragedy of Sir R. Grenville" that are really very poor, but as a whole, 1 think, it is better than the same author's " Devoreux or Virtues Tears for the loss of the most Christian King Henry," &c. 1597, from which I had intended to show you some specimens, had I not found that the poem has already been analyzed and criticised elsewhere. Morton, Did not Markham write a poem of the same elegiac kind on one Sir John Burgh? I think I have seen the title in some catalogue. Bourne. I know what you allude to: that was by Ruber I Markham, and it was not printed until 100 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 1628. I do not know that this author was any relation to Jervis Markham; there is an apparent relation- ship in their styles, with this difference, that Robert exaggerates to the utmost extravagance of absurdity all the worst faults of Jervis. I am sure that the subsequent lines from the opening of the " De- scription of that euer to be famed Knight Sir .John Burgh," will be all the specimen of his talents you will ever wish to see. " If teares could tell the story of my woe, How I with sorrow pine away for thee, My spungie eyes their bankes should ouerflow And make a very Moore or Mire of me ; I would out weepe a thousand Nyobyes, For I would weepe till 1 wept out my eyes. " My heart should drop such teares as did thy wound, And my wound should keepe consort with my heart ; In a red Sea my body should be drown'd, My gall should breake and beare a bitter part, Such crimson Rue as 1 would weepe should make Democrates himselfe, a wormewood Lake." Elliot. That is incomparably absurd, to be. sure. The excess of his grief makes one's sides ache with laughing at it. This is a special instance of the " faulty sublime," of which Upton speaks, and which he says is so much better than " a faultless mediocrity." Bourne. It would not improve your opinion oi SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 101 the taste of bibliomaniacs, if I were to tell you what this trash sold for, not a year ago, among- the curiosi- ties of an eminent collector. Morton. It is worth something to have such an unfailing source of merriment always at hand : the owner may set the blue devils at defiance. Bourxe. As we are not at present in want of its assistance, and as we have other and better things to attend to, we may close llobt. Markham's " Lament- able Tragedy full of pleasant mirth," (as Preston entitles his (i Cambises,") until we have more need of it. Elliot. To come back for a minute or two to Churchyard. Bourxe. We will do so directly; but before we dismiss Sir R. Grenville from our minds, I wish to show you a curiosity I discovered not long since among theMSS. of the British Museum, (liibl. Sloan, l'lut. XVIII. F.) which shows that Sir It. Grenville is probably entitled to a place among the poets, as well as among the heroes of his country. Morton. Your position will at least have novelty to recommend it. Bourne. It will: the poem is entitled " In praise of Seafaringe Men in hope of good fortune:" it has no date, but it is in a hand writing of Queen Eliza- beth's reign, and the following are the two last stanzas : K>'2 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. " Whoe list at whome at cart to drudge And cark and care for worldlie trashe, With buckled sheues let him goe trudge In stead of Launee A whip to lashe : A minde that base his kind will show of earonn swecte to feede a erowe. " If Iasonn of that mynd had bine, the grecions when they earn to troye Had neuer so the Trogians foylde, Nor neuer put them to such Anoye : Wherefore who lust to Hue at whome. To purchas fame I will go Rome. Finis Sur Richard Grinfilldes Farwell." There are about five or six other stanzas which precede what I have read, and in an opposite column, by a different hand, is inserted an answer to them. In the first line of the last stanza, bine is most likely a mistake of the transcriber's for ioi/lde, to rhyme withjbi/lde in the next line but one. Elliot. It does not seem to merit much critical comment, and the author is called Grinfillde not Grenville. Bourne. The variation of the name is no disproof of the authorship : we have already seen it spelt four different ways — Grinuile by Jervis Markham, Green- vill by Camden, Grinvil by Fit/.getfrev, and Greuu'de SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 103 by the author of the prose pamphlet; and there were at that time no fixed rules of orthography, especially in names. I interrupted you when you were going to ask a question about old Churchyard. Elliot. It regarded a work, attributed to him by Mr. Chalmers, which I apprehend must be very in- teresting. I mean " A praise of poetry, some notes thereof drawn out of the Apologie the noble-minded knight, Sir Philip Sidney wrote." The date given is 1596". Bourne. It would not by any means come up to your expectations, as there is little or nothing in it original : but you may satisfy your curiosity by re- ferring to Censura Literaria, where the tract is re- viewed. Your mention of Sir P. Sidney here brings us to something I had intended to postpone, but which cannot perhaps be more properly introduced than here ; I allude to four sonnets by Henry Con- stable (a poet of very considerable note, author of " Diana," 1594), prefixed to the very rare edition of Sidney's " Apologie of Poetrie," 4to. 1595. They have never been reprinted. Morton. Pew of the minor poets of that day seem to have enjoyed a higher reputation. Bourne. He may fairly be ranked with Watson, whose sonnets Mr. Steevens contended were equal to those of Shakespeare : as I told you, I cannot agree with him, nor do I believe that any man who knows the one and the other, and has a particle of taste, will 104 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. concur. Constable's Sonnets arc the following, and are thus rather singularly entitled : " Foure Sonnets Written by Henric Constable to Sir Phillip Sidneys soule. Giue pardon (blessed Soule) to my bold cryes If they (importund) interrupt thy Song, Which now with ioyfull notes thou sing'st among The Angel-Quiristers of heau'nly skyes : Giue pardon eake (sweete Soule) to my slow cries.. That since I saw thee now it is so long, And yet the teares that vnto thee belong To thee as yet they did not sacrifice : I did not know that thou wert dead before, I did not feelc the griefe I did susteine, " The greater stroke astonisheth the more, " Astonishment takes from vs sence of paine , I stood amaz'd when others teares begun, And now begin to wcepe, when they haue doonc. Sweet Soule which now with heau'nly songs doost teJ Thy deare Redeemers glory and his prayse, No meruaile though thy skilfull Muse assayes The Songs of other soules there to excell ; For thou didst learne to sing diuinely well, Long time before thy fayre and glittering rayes Enereas'd the light of heau'n, for euen thy layes Most heauenly were when thou on earth didst uwel : SEVENTH CONVERSATION 105 When thou didst on the earth sing Poet-wise, Angels in heau'n pray'd for thy company And now thou sing'st with Angels in the skies Shall not all Poets praise thy memory ? And to thy name shall not their works giue fame, When as their works be sweetned by thy name : Even as when great mens heires cannot agree, So eu'ry vertue now for part of thee doth sue, Courage prooues by thy death thy hart to be his due, Eloquence claimes thy tongue, and so doth cour- tesy ; Inuention knowledge sues, Iudgment sues memory, Each safth thy head is his, and what end shall ensue Of this strife know I not, but this I know for true, That whosoeuer gaines the sute the losse hauewee ; Wee (I meane all the world) the losse to all pertaineth, Yea they which gaine doe loose and onely thy soule gaineth, Eor loosing of one life, two liues are gained then : Honor thy courage mou'd, courage thy death did giue, Death, courage, honor makes thy soule to liue, Thy soule to liue in heau'n, thy name in tongues of men. Great Alexander then did well declare How great was his united Kinadomes might, 106 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. When eu'ry Captaine of his Army might After his death with mighty Kings compare : So now we see after thy death, how far Thou dost in worth surpasse each other Knight, When we admire him as no mortal wight, In whom the least of all thy vertues are : One did of Macedon the King become, Another sat on the Egiptian throne, I5ut onely Alexanders selfe had all : So curteous some, and some be liberall, Some witty, wise, valiant, and learned some But King of all the vertues thou alone. Ilennj Constable" Elliot. The thought in the last of these sonnets is happy, and happily applied. Morton. And the lines run with much harmony and facility. Bourne. If they do not add to, they at least do not detract from the fame of their author, Morton. They are undoubtedly well worthy of revival, not merely as curious relics. But did not Lord Thurlow, a few years since, publish a reprint of Sidney's " Apology of Poetry?" If so, I should have taken it for granted that he did not omit these sonnets. Bourne. lie would not have omitted them had he been aware of their existence, but his reprint is made from an edition comparatively modern, and SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 107 even in the folio of 1598 the sonnets are unac- countably excluded. Elliot. I suppose there are no important omis- sions in the body of the " Apology." Bourne. No j but you will see that the edition of 1598 (which is called "The Defence of Poesie") commences thus ; " When the right vertuous E. W. and I were at the Emperours Court together." Now the edition of 1595 gives the whole name instead of the initials, viz. " Edwarde Wootton." Elliot. Who was Edward Wootton ? If Fulke Greville thought it worthy of mention in his Epitaph that he was the friend of Sir P. Sidney, his other friends deserve to be inquired after. Boukxe. No doubt he was brother to Sir Henry AVootton. Edward Wootton was Comptroller of the Queen's Household, and, according to Camden, " was remarkable for many high employments :" he was sent several times Ambassador to foreign Courts, and on one of these occasions he was accompanied by Sidney. Morton. How deeply it is to be lamented that a few days before his death Sir H. Wootton should have burnt many of the productions of his youth. What is the date of his earliest piece now extant ? Bourne. It is difficult to decide, but the events referred to fix the dates of a few : the earliest I immediately recollect is inserted in Davison's " Poeti- cal Rapsody," 1602, but that he had written poems 108 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. before th.it is very clear. Thomas Bastard, the author of " Chrestoleros," published in 1598, ad- dresses two epigrams ad Henricum Woltonum, in one of which he says, " Wotton, the country and the country swa\ne, How can they yield a poet any sense ? How can they stirre him up, or heate his braine ? How can they (cede him with intelligence r" And he recommends him, therefore, to come to " London, Englands fayrest eye." It is not very unlikely that their friendship was occasioned or con- firmed by their mutual love of fishing, for in another Epigram, ])c piscatione, Bastard observes, " Fishing, if I a fisher may protest, Of pleasures is the sweet'st, of sports the best, Of exercises the most excellent ; Of recreations the most innocent. But now the sport is niarde, and wott ye why ! Fishes decrease, and fishers multiply." Moktox. All Sir Henry's friends, however, were not fishermen : one of his most intimate companions, Dr. Donne, has this stanza in Ids " Progresse of the Soule," " Is any kind subject to rape like fish • 111 unto men, they neither doe nor wish; Fishers they kill not nor with noise awake; They doe not hunt, nor strive to make a prey SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 109 Of beasts, nor their yong sonnes to beare away ; Foules they pursue not, nor do undertake To spoile the nests industruous birds do make 5 Yet them all these unkinde kinds feed upon, To kill them is an occupation, And lawes make fasts, & lents for their destruction." Elliot. If we may believe Rabelais, among the Roman Emperors is to be found a great example in favour of fishing : in B. II. c. 30. (Edit. 155.3) he asserts that Trajan estoit pescheur de Grenouilles. Moktox. I doubt the correctness of your autho- rity : besides, at best Trajan was only a French fisherman — a fisher of frogs. Elliot. I assure you Rabelais makes the assertion in the same chapter, where he represents Lancelot da Lac as escorcheur de clievaulx mors, and all the Knights of the Round Table as pouvres gaingncdenicrs tirans la rame pour passer les rivieres de Coccjjte, Phlcgeton, Styx, Acheron, § Lethe. Boi'rxe. One is quite as true as the other: "Wal- ton's work is quite enough to make me a fisherman. You know that he was the first to collect and publish the scattered remains of Sir II. Wootton, and their friendship, I believe, originated in their mutual par- tiality to angling. Here we may introduce very fitly the treat I promised you some days ago, in the examination of a poem dedicated to Walton, but not noticed by any one of bis biographers. 1 10 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. That is rather strange, recollecting the unremitting pains taken within the last twenty or thirty years to collect the minutest facts regarding Walton. It is remarkable, too, that he, only a small tradesman, should be fixed upon by an author to patronize his poem. Morton. We have very often seen that an author dedicates his work to an obscure friend merely as a token of regard, and there was no man more likely to produce such a feeling than " honest Izaac :" S. P., the writer in question, like the author of the " Metamorphosis of Tobacco" (a poem dedicated to Drayton, which we so much admired a few days ago), might say that his pen " Loath'd to adorn the triumphs of those men Which hold the reins of fortune and the times," and might, therefore, prefer his obscure friend, so that I do not see much in your last observation. What is the title of the poem r Bourne. It is called " The Love of Amos and Laura. Written by S. P. London : printed for Richard Hawkins, dwelling in Chancery Lane, neere Serieants Inne. 10' 19." Walton was born in 1593, so that in 1619 he was in his twenty-sixth year. Morton. The author only gives his initials on the title. Does he insert Walton's name at full length before the dedication r Bourne. He is addressed, not by his name at length, but by an abbreviation always employed by SEVENTH CONVERSATION 111 Walton, and with his noted peculiarity of using a z instead of an s in the word Izaae — it is " To my approved and much respected friend; Iz. JVa.:" the epithets " approved and much respected" are ap- propriate to the station in life Walton filled. Mortox. Nearly all his letters and poems are subscribed Iz. Wa. Bourne. But none are so early as 1G19 : it is pro- bable, however, that he began to write before 10131, the date of his poem on the deatli of his friend Dr. Donne : it is a propensity generally peculiar to youth, and subsiding with age ; in this way I ac- count for what 8. P., in the dedication, says of his friend's skill in verse. It is in these terms : " To thee thou more then thrice beloued friend, I, too vnworthy of so great a blisse, These harsh-tun'd lines I here to thee commend ; Thou being cause it is now as it is : For hadst thou held thy tongue, by silence might These haue been buried in obliuions night. " If they were pleasing I would call them thine, And disauow my title to the verse ; But being bad I needes must call them mine, No ill thing can be clothed in thy verse. Accept them then, and where I have offended, Base thou it out and let it be amended. S. P." Elliot. It was somewhat late to amend after it was printed, but the compliment is not ill paid. 1 VI SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Morton. But granting that Iz. Wa. is Izaac Walton, there is still an important question to be settled — who was S. P. r Bourne. Which must probably remain undecided, unless it were Samuel Purchas, a well known author about that time, yet that is not very probable. In fact, in my view, it is not a question of any great moment, for the production is not by any means first rate, though not devoid of merit : the same small volume, in which "Amos and Laura" is found, contains two other poems, and particularly one of considerably greater talent. Morton. What are they r are they also unknown ? Bourne. One of them is, I apprehend, quite a new discovery in the history of our poetry, the other is nearly as much known as the other is little known. The volume has this general title, " Alcilia : Philo- parthens louing folly.— Wherevnto is added Pigma- lions Image : With the Loue of Amos and Laura. — London, Printed for Richard Hawkins," &c. 1G19. Morton. " Pigmalions Image," I suppose, is John Marston's poem, first printed in 1598. Bourne. It is, but this edition is not common. " Alcilia^ Philoparthens louing Folly" is a produc- tion hitherto unseen, and displays very considerable poetical talent. We will come to that presently ; first, I will read you ;i quotation or two from '■' The Loue of Amos and Laura," which, if not the most valuable, is, from the circumstance of its dedication, the most curious. SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 113 Elliot. What is the story of " Amos and Laura," if it have any ? Bovrxe. It has little or none : it opens in these lines, not very promisingly : " In the large confines of renowned France There liud a Lord, whom Fortune did aduance, Who had a Daughter, Laura call'd the faire; So sweete, so proper, and so debonaire, That strangers tooke her for to be none other Then Venus selfe, the god of Loues owne Mother. Not farre from thence was situate a Towne, The Lord thereof a man of good renowne, Whom likewise Fortune blessed with a Sonne, Amos by name, so modest, ciuill, young, And yet in fight so wondrous and so bold As that therein he passed vncontroul'd : So kinde to strangers, and so meeke to all, Of comely grace, and stature somewhat tall ; As the wide world not two such Imps affords As were the off-springs of these happy Lords." Morton. The lines are mawkish j but perhaps the author warms and strengthens as he proceeds. Bourne. He does improve, though not as much as could be wished: nearly the whole poem is a dialogue between these two lovers. Amos, when going out to hunt, meets Laura near her father's castle : the conversation then begins, in the middle VOL. II. I 114 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. of which the lady runs away, is pursued and over- taken by her admirer : the courtship is then renewed and concluded to the satisfaction of both parties. The following extract begins better than it ends. " Or were thy loue but equal vnto mine, Then wouldst thou seeke his fauor who seeks thine ! Methinkes unkindnesse cannot come from thence. Where beauty raignes with such magnificence: I mean from thee whom nature hath endow'd, With more then Art would willingly allow' d : And though by nature you are borne most faire Yet Art would adde a beauty to your share ; But it being spotlesse doth disdaine receit Of all vnpolish'd painting counterfeit. Your beauty is a snare vnto our wayes Wherein once caught, we cannot brooke delayes ; Which makes us oft through grief'e of minde grow sad, Griefe follows grief, then malcontent and mad. Thus by denyall doe you cause our woe And then do triumph in our overthrow." Elliot. That is quite sufficient : we should only waste time if we were to read more of such in- sipidity. Bourxe. I anticipated your opinion ; indeed there could hardly be much difference about it : nor will I ask you to listen to two short passages more, the one referring, in general terms, to Marlow's and SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 115 Chapman's celebrated translation of " Hero and Leander," and the other, even more generally, to Shakespeare's " Tarquin und Lucrece." Morton. Then having now done with S. P. and his Amos and Laura, we may look upon " Alcilia," whom I am a little anxious to behold, after the praise you have bestowed upon her beauty. Bourne. I warn you against inconsiderate ex- pectation : though it is better than what we have just seen, I do not pretend that it is first rate, even in the department to which it belongs. Elliot. What department is that r Bourne. Love poems of various descriptions. Elliot. Of which passion, you may remember, Cicero speaks thus slightingly, Totus vero iste qui vidgo appellator Amor (nee herculc invenio quo nomine aliopossii appellari ) tantce levitatis est, id nihil videam, quod putem eonjerendum. Bourne. Instead of such a quotation, with such a tendency, I should rather have cited R. YVilmot's dedication to " Tancred and Gismunda," 1592, where he asserts that love being as it were " the finest metal, the freshest wits have in all ages shewn their best workmanship" upon it. Morton. On the other hand, we ought to recollect Spenser's lines in " Mother Hubbard's Tale 3" " Thereto he could fine loving verses frame And play the poet oft. But Ah ! for shame : 1 2 116 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Let not sweet poets praise, whose only pride Is virtue to advance and vice deride, Be with the work of losels wit defamed, Ne let such verses poetry be named." Bourne. He there supposes them to he written by Malfont, that " poet bad," or by one like him, de- scribed in the 5th Book of the F. Q. Do not let it be forgotten, however he abuses it for particular pur- poses, that some of the very best parts of Spenser's works are devoted to love and its praise. Morton. Lovers and poets are allowed to be the most inconsistent creatures in nature. Bourne. The author of " Alcilia: Philoparthens loving Folly," justifies your remark ; for he says, in introducing the best part of his work to the reader, u These Sonnets following were written by the Author (who giueth himselfe this feigned name of PJiiln- partken as his accidental attribute) at diuers times and vpon diuers occasions, and therefore in the forme and matter they differ, and sometimes are quite con- trary one to another considering the nature and quality of Love, which is a passion full of variety and contrariety in it selfe." Elliot. That is not less true than in point. Have you any conjecture who is meant by Philoparthen, whose " accidental attribute" this " feigned name" expressed ? Bourne. I have not, nor do I find any clue in the production. SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 117 Morton. I think Barnabe Barnes, whom you men- tioned on a former day as the friend of William Percy, used that signature. Bourne. Not exactly, though it is different only by transposition : he signed himself by the name of Parthenophil. Elliot. As we are not likely to arrive at any satisfaction on the point, let us open the book. Bourne. The titles to the several divisions of his poems are in Latin, " Author ipse Philopartheos ad libellum suum" and " Amoris Prceludium, vel Epistola ad Amicam," although the stanzas to which they apply are all English. Elliot. The author seems to have been one of those who wrote because they repented of their folly : a principal part of Ins production, I perceive, is headed " Sic incipit Stultorum Tragicomedia." Bourne. That precedes the quotation I read about the variety and contrariety of love ; an excuse for the wavering nature of the " Sonnets," as the author calls them, that succeed. Elliot. Yet sonnets they are not, for they are sometimes only stanzas of six lines each. Morton. The word sonnet, as we have seen, had a very indefinite application among our elder poets, and it often does not mean at all what the Italians seem to have understood by it. Bourne. If you will give me the book, I will point out to you some of the best of these sonnets ; IKS SEVENTH CONVERSATION. « for they are by no means all worth reading, sup- posing we had time to go through them. Elliot. With all my heart. Bourxe. The following is a pretty allegorical de- scription, rather ingenious, and elegantly worded. " To seeke aduentures as Fate hath assignde, My slender Barke new flotes vpon the Maine ; Each troubled thought an Oare, each sigh a winde, Whose often puffes haue rent my ISayles in twaine. Loue steeres the Boat, which for that sight he lacks, Is still in danger of tenne thousand wracks." Morton. It is pretty, certainly; and the author has given a new turn in the two last lines, which is very happy. Boukxe. His talent is more fully exemplified in another portion of the volume, called " Love de~ cyphered," where, having been rejected by Alcilia, he triumphs in his regained freedom. " Loue and Youth are now asunder, Reasons glory, Natures wonder; My thoughts long bound are now inlarg'd. My follies penance is discharg'd, Thus time hath altered my state ; ltepentance neuer comes too late ! Ah well I finde that Loue i-, naught. But folly and an idle thought ; The difference is twixt Lone and me. That Loue is blinde and I can see." SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 119 Elliot. That is exceedingly pleasant and playful in its way : it aims at nothing more than it accom- plishes, and the form and facility of the versification are well suited to the author's supposed state of feeling. Bourne. I do not think you will like less the description of his mistress, in the three following stanzas, from a different part of the volume. " Faire is my Loue whose parts are so well framed By Natures special order and direction, That she her selfe is more then halfe ashamed In hauing made a worke of such perfection : And well may Nature blush at such a feature, Seeing her selfe excelled by her creature Her body is straight, slender and vpright, Her visage comely and her lookes demure, Mixt with a chearfull grace that yeelds delight: Her eyes like starres, bright shining, cleare and pure, Which I describing Loue bids stay my pen, And says it's not a worke for mortall men. The ancient Poets write of Graces three, Which meeting altogether in one creature, In all points perfect make the same to bee, For inward vermes and for outward feature : But smile Alcilia and the world shall see, That in thine eyes a hundred graces bee!" Morton. We are much obliged to you for intro- ducing us to a poet who can write with so much ease and delicacy. 120 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. The first stanza is a little faulty ; for if Nature might be envious of the beauty of her work, it is the very reason why she should not be ashamed of its perfeetness. Morton. Ah ! quitlez d'nn censeur la triste diligence, to borrow a line from Racine. Do not blame where there is really so much to commend ; besides a little ought to be allowed for the necessity of the rhyme. Elliot. Perhaps I was somewhat hypercritical. If the next quotation be as good, I will find no fault with it. Bourne. I am afraid we can afford no more time at present to " Alcilia." Before we finally dismiss Bastard's Chrestoleros, so frequently mentioned, I wish to show you an epigram in it which renders it valuable, not merely as containing notices of poets whose works have come down to us, but of some regarding whom we have hitherto only heard the names ; such, for instance, as Dr. Eeds, Dean of Worcester. At least we learn from Bastard for what species of composition Dr. Eedes was celebrated, which we did not know before. Morton. Wood, I perceive, only asserts that he wrote various MS. poems in Latin and English. Bourne. And Ritson and the rest re-echo him : from the following lines in the Chrestolcros we find that he was an author of epigrams. "Ad Richardum Eeds. " Eeds onely thou an Epigram dost season, With thy sweete tast and relish of enditing, SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 121 With sharpes of sense, and delicates of reason, With salt of witt and wonderfull delighting. For in my iudgement him thou hast exprest In whose sweet mouth hony did build her nest." Elliot. I do not suppose you quote that for its own merit, but merely as a matter of biography. Bourne. Precisely so; and it too frequently hap- pens, as I have once before remarked, that such is the chief value of the productions of our old English epigrammatists. Elliot. It is to be lamented, then, that not a few of those who are called poets of the reign of Queen Elizabeth did not write epigrams : their works would then, at least, have been endurable. Bourne. I am not such a bigot to old versifica- tion (not to dignify it by the name of poetry), as to dispute the truth of your remark in some particular instances : one of them, indeed, is an author I in- tended to bring before you to-day, I mean Barnabe Googe, who, though a voluminous writer, and espe- cially translator, has produced nothing original that I have ever seen worth preserving. Elliot. An additional confirmation of Sir John Denham's celebrated couplet, " Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, That few but such as cannot write translate !" Morton. Googe Avas the translator of l'allin- genius's " Zodiac of Life." Bourne. The same; yet I cannot deny that by 122 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. practice he acquired some facility in the use of the English language: this is more evident in his version of Naorgorgeus's " Popish Kingdom," lo?0, which contains an account of some curious and amusing customs, although the title is unpromising : a piece Ritson assigns to him, called " A new yeares gifte, dedicated to the Popes Holinesse," 1579> is certainly not his, but probably Bernard darter's, as any body who reads it will see. Mokton. In what way was Googe to be brought before us ? Elliot. I am afraid we are now about to be treated with one of your absolute bibliomaniac curiosities. Bourne. Your sufferings will not be of long duration, if you are patient under the infliction. The existence of this small volume by Googe has been doubted by some, and it is clear that Ritson had never heard of it. The title is this, " The Prouerbes of the noble and woorthy souldier Sir James Lopez de Mendoza, Marques of Santillana, with the paraphrase of D. Peter Diaz of Toledo," &c. " Translated out of Spanishe by Barnabe Googe. Imprinted at London by Richarde Watkins, 1579" It is dedicated to Cecill " Baron of Burghley/' and the translator complains that he had found some difficulty in making out the meaning of his author. Morton. Is it in verse or prose ? Bourne. In both: the proverbs (though Avhy so called cannot very easily be guessed), are in Googe's favourite measure of fourteen syllables, divided into SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 1<23 two lines, for the purpose of coming conveniently into an 8vo. page, and the paraphrase or commentary is in prose. Elliot. The prose can be dispensed with, at all events. Bourne. I did not intend to read it: the follow- ing are numbered 47, 48, and 49, but only form one Proverb, and are in praise of women. " For setting here aside that sweete and blessed worthie rose, That ouer all the rest doth shine, and far beyond them goes, The daughter of the thundring God, and spouse vnto the hiest ; The light and lampc of women all who bare our sauiour Christ. " Manie ladies of renowne and beautifull there bee, That are both chast and vertuous and famous for degree : Amongst the blessed saintes full many a one we finde, That in this copasse may be brought for liues that brightly shinde. " What should I of Saint Katheren that blessed martyr tell, Among the rest of Virgins all a flowre of precious smell? 124 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Well worthy of remembrance is her beauty and her youth, And eke no lesse deserueth praise her knowledge in the trueth." Elojot. I should be surprised if, with all your love of old poetry, you could say any tiling in praise of those lines. Bourne. I do not affect it; nor indeed, as I ob- served, in praise of any thing Googe ever wrote, excepting so far as he was able to gain the name of a poet by the smoothness of his versification. Morton. The lines you have read have that re- commendation, though with some want of judg- ment you have brought him after the author of " Alcilia." Bourne. The following stanza from the same volume, referring to Cato and Mutius Scawola, is unquestionably the best in it. " Oh, what a death had Cato dyed if it had lawfull beene, And had not by the iust decrees of God beene made a sinne ! No lesse doe I the worthy fact of Mucius commend, That Lyuic in his story hath so eloquently pende." Elliot. I do not find that that has much more merit than the rest. SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 125 Bourxe. The degree of difference is rather minute, and we may pass the book over without farther quotation or remark. Mortox. I see that two other tracts still remain to be uoticed : what are they ? Bourxe. I had looked them out for examination, but since I did so, I have discovered that they have both been mentioned in Beloe's " Anecdotes of Li- terature and scarce Books :" — as it is not necessary that we should travel over ground that has been trodden by any precursors, I have determined to omit them, and to leave them to your separate examina- tion : the first is by Rowland Broughton, a new name in the history of our poetry, and is a funeral poem on the death of the Marquis of "Winchester (1572); and the second, a production of a similar kind on the Countess of Lenox (1577) > by John Phillip or Phillips, whose production on Sir P. Sidney you cannot have forgotten. Elliot. Certainly not : I remember so much of it that even if this " excessive rarity," (for such I take it for granted it is), had not been mentioned by Beloe, I should not have wished to have heard a single line from it. Bourxe. Rowland Broughton is quite as bad, if not worse ; but then his performance is such a sin- gular curiosity. Phillip's tract contains a fulsome and rather curious character of Elizabeth : it is better than his poem on the death of Sir P. Sidney, though the last was a much later production. 126 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Morton. Is that character of Elizabeth given in Beloe? I should like to hear it: — the subject is in- viting, though it may not be well treated. Bourne. It has not been quoted, and certainly deserves extracting ; and I would read it, if I could prevail upon this objector " to shut his ears like adder to the sound." Elliot. If h be short, I shall not attempt to resist your wishes on the subject. Bourne. It is not long; and even you, I think, will find something amusing in it. It is as follows : " With in her brest Iustice a place hath pyght, And in her mercy welds the supreme sway : The poore opprest to helpe she doth delight, Her hand is prest to shield them from decay : To all the fruites of loue she doth display 3 Her eares attend to hear each subiects wrong, Like Saba she her subiects rules among. The sacred Nimph that noble Vesta hight Within her bower accompanies the Queene. Like Phaebus rayes her glorye glisters bright, Adornde she sits with Lawrell lasting greene. Pernassus mount to scale this Prince is scene ; Of Helicon, that Hiuer running cleere, To taste her fill our Pandra hath desyre. The scepter she like sad Cassandra swaies ; Corinna like augmentes her learned skill. Then Triton see in haste thou take thy wayes SEVENTH CONVERSATION. 127 To spred her fume with taunting trumpet shrill! Extoll our Queene of God be loued still ; Whose word and will, dispight of Chacus yre She to defende hath settled true desyre. Her countryes weale to worke her heart is bent ; Haut Hydrais head she hath cut off indeede: Each Minotaure by skill she doth preuent That in her soyle of strife would sow the seede. The woolfe she quailes, the lambe she seekes to feede, With pleasant mylke and honey passing pure. God graunt on earth her grace may long endure !" Morton. The lines are not inharmonious, but the allusions are affected and pedantic. Bourne. Of course — that was in the spirit of the age. Nash, in his most humorous and clever piece of exaggeration, called " Lenten Stuff," and printed in 1599, mentions three dramatic productions in terms of no great praise : one of them he calls " Phillips Venus;" and this may be the Phillips we are now speaking of, or it may be Phillips the actor. Elliot. I have read some very amusing quotations from that pamphlet of Nash's. Bourne. Very likely: you may see the whole of it reprinted in the " Harleian Miscellany," and it will well repay the time spent in going through it. Nash tells us in it of the troubles he had to pass through, in consequence of his unrecovered play of the " Isle of Doffs." 128 SEVENTH CONVERSATION. Morton. I have never met with a tract that con- tained more curious matter, both relating to himself and his contemporaries. It is there thnt he bestows such applause on " Kit Marlow" for his " Hero and Leander," praised, as you noticed, in the poem dedi- cated to Walton. He likewise speaks of a play called " The Case is altered," which was probably not Ben Jonson's. Bourne. Your patience in listening to the quota- tion from Phillips shall be well rewarded to-mor- row, by the examination of a greater and more in- disputably valuable curiosity than I have yet shown you; I mean the novel on which Shakespeare founded his " Twelfth Night." POETICAL DECAMERON. THE EIGHTH CONVERSATION. CONTENTS OF THE EIGHTH CONVERSATION. The promise performed — A novel hitherto undiscovered, from which Shakespeare took the plot of his " Twelfth Night," to be found in " Rich his Farewell to Militarie profession," by Barnabe Rich, UiOo' — The date when " Twelfth Night" was written— Rich's collection of novels originally printed between 1578, and 1581 — Proofs of this fact — Doubt whether additions were made in the reprint of 1G06 — Sir Christopher Ilatton, the patron of Rich — Tancred and Gismunda, 1592 — Pofimantdu, 1595, quoted re- garding Sir C. Ilatton and his poems — Rich's account of Ins " vpholder's" house and state at Holdenby, from the prefatory- matter to his "Farewell" — His name and productions omitted by Ritson, &c. but the defect partially supplied — His numerous publications — Rich's concern intheNetherlandwars with (iascoyne, Churchyard, Whetstone, and other poets — Whetstone's account of the death of Sir P. Sidney, from Churchyard's " True Dis- course Historicall," &c HiO'J — Epitaph from the same — Sir W. Raleigh's epitaph on Sir P. Sidney — Milton's quotation from Sir John Harington's translation of Ariosto — " Rich his Farewell to Militarie profession" not known to any bibliographical anti- quaries — Plan of the work — Anticipation of the Commentators on Shakespeare fulfilled — Argument to the second novel in Rich's work, called " Apolonius and Silla" — Its commencement and incidents previous to the opening to Shakespeare's " Twelfth Night," with their use — Dr. Johnson's censure of the sudden pro- ject of Viola — Resemblance between Rich and Shakespeare — Correspondence of the characters — Description of Julina, a widow, and the mode of conducting the Duke's amour, by the intervention of Silla in male attire, and under the name of her brother Silvio 132 CONTEXTS. — Julina's love for Silvio, anil her mistake of the brother for the disguised sister — Likeness between the brother and sister — The consequences of Julina's love anil her perilous distress — Silla accused — Her speech, and her mode of clearing herself from the charge — Shakespeare's improvements on his original — The Duke's declaration and marriage to Silla — Re-appearance of the real Silvio — His attachment to Julina, and their final and happy union . — Remarks on Shakespeare's deviations, iVc- — Of the other seven histories in Rich's work— Specimen of his poetry from the iirst novel in the same — One original of Romeo and .Juliet in Painter's •• Palace nf Pleasure" — A poem, by one William Painter, called " Chaucer painted" — Scarcity and curiosity of the novels Shake- speare en. ployed, particularly early editions — Thomas Lodge's " Rosalynde : Euphues golden Legacie," 1590, the original of " As you like it" — Alteration of Lodge's title — John Lilly's rustication from Oxford — Specimens of Lodge's •■ Rosalynde," to show how far and in what way Shakespeare was indebted to it — Description of Rosalind, and quotation from .Iair.es Shirley's " Sisters" on hyperboles — Resemblance between Shakespeare and Lodge — further extract from Lodge — Robert Greene's " Dorastus and Fawnia," 1388, the foundation of •• The Winter's Tale" — Deviations of Shakespeare from it — Greene's very rare tract, called -A .Mirror of Modesty," 1584, quoted — Different editions of " Dorastus and Fawnia," with their variations — Poem by Greene — His motto, and curious quotation regarding it from his " Perimedes the Black-Smith," 1388 — On blank verse poets, &c. from the same — Extracts from "Dorastus and Fawnia" — Character of l?el- lariii — The fate of Fawnia. and her first interview with Dorastus, compared with Shakespeare — Quotations from Epistles by Romeo and Juliet in •'■ Aurorata" and " Loves Looking-glassc," ll!44, by Thomas Prujean — Incident in Fortescue's " Foreste," 1371, similar to the contrivance in " All's Well that ends Well." POETICAL DECAMERON THE EIGHTH CONVERSATION. JVloRTOx. Now, then, to claim the execution of your promise : do not let it be like those of princes, which, us Beaumont and Fletcher say in " Philaster," find " both birth and burial in one breath." Bourne. And very properly, according to Chapman in his " Alphonsus," 1654 ; " A prince above all things must seem devout ; But nothing is so dangerous to his state As to regard his promise or his oath." Elliot. That sentiment, I suppose, proceeds from the mouth of some parasite : however it cannot be applicable to yourself until you become a prince : therefore, without further postponement, produce the much talked of treasure — the novel from which Shakespeare took the plot of his " Twelfth Night." Quanta la speranza dlvcula miuorc, tanio I'amoic maggiorfarsi, is a sentiment from Boccacio ((i. III. 134 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. N. 2.) in which you seem fully to concur; for as book-hunters have often been compared to lovers, you think that delay will increase desire. Bourne. To which delay you are yourself con- tributing; the book containing- what you so much wish to see, was in my hand even before you began your speech. Morton. And you might, by reading the title, at least have saved yourself the trouble of a reply. Bourne. Having endured the speech, justice re- quired the reply ; but as she is now satisfied, I will read the title : " Rich his Farewell to Militarie Profession : Con- teining Aery pleasant discourses fit for a peaceable time. Gathered together for the onely delight of the courteous Gentlewomen both of England and Ireland, for whose onely pleasure they were collected together, and vnto whom they are directed and de- dicated. Newly augmented. By Barnabe Riche, Gentleman. — Malni me diuitem esse quam vocari.' — Imprinted at London by G. E. for Thomas Adams. 1606." Elliot. There, the date is enough : what do we want to know about G. E. or Thomas Adams ? You are as particular about printers as if you were the editor of the new edition of Ames. Mokton. Was not Twelfth Night written before 1606, the date of Rich's book, where; you say the original novel is inserted ; EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 135 Bourne. No ; but if it were, I could still satisfy you that the novel in this volume was employed by Shakespeare. However, it seems agreed by the commentators, who have taken some pains upon the subject, that Twelfth Night was not written until after 1612. Mr. Chalmers says in 1613, and Mr. Tyrwhit, and after him Malone, in 1614. Dr. Drake, with every desire to strike out something new if there be the least pretence for it, lixes it be- tween the two, in 1613 ; so that 6, 7, or 8 years most likely elapsed between the publication of Rich's work, in 1606, and the writing of Twelfth Night. Elliot. I do not understand the first part of your observation. If Twelfth Night had been written, Ave will say, in 1605, how can you prove that Shakespeare availed himself of Rich's novel, unless he saw it in MS. ? It was not printed until 1606. Morton. I suppose that the words on the title- page " newly augmented" have something to do with answering that question. Bourne. They have. 1 have never seen any other edition of Rich's Farcivcl but this of 1606, but in- dependently of those words " newly augmented," I can decisively establish from the prefatory matter, that it must have been originally written and printed between 1578 and 158 L : if, therefore, Twelfth Night had been our great dramatic poet's first, instead of being his last play, he might still have been indebted to this source. 136 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. What does the prefatory matter con- sist of? Bourne. The point I refer to is established by the epistle " To the noble Souldiours both of Eng- land and Ireland;" for the author says in it, " I re- member that in my last work, intituled the Alarum to England, I promised to take in hand some other thing." Therefore the " Alarum to England" im- mediately preceded what is before us, and that Alarum bears date in 1578. Morton. But there might be an interval of many years between the two, notwithstanding : the " Alarum to England" might be printed in 15?'8, and be the author's last work, though the Farewel might not appear for C Z0 or 30 years afterwards. Bourne. That is possible, though not probable ; and it is, besides, contradicted by positive fact. In 1581 Rich published the first volume of his "Straunge and wonder full aduentures of Do Simonides," so that the " Farewel" must have appeared between 15*8 and 1581, or Rich could not have mentioned his " Alarum to England'' as his last work. Elliot. A very clear argument, and a very safe conclusion : the words "newly augmented," indeed, prove that it had been printed before, though in a shorter form. It might be curious to ascertain of what the augmentations consisted. Bourne. I much doubt if, in fact, there were any: perhaps " newly augmented" at that day meant no- EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 137 thing more than the common words " with ad- ditions" upon the republication of a modern work, where the principal, if not the only, addition is a new title-page. Moktox. Very likely. Is there any thing else in the volume to confirm the opinion that " Rich his Farewel" was first printed much earlier than 16'OG? Bourne. There is ; and the proof is remarkable on another account, from its reference to Sir Christo- pher Hatton, Avho is spoken of as alive, and who died in 1591. He appears to have been the " Maister & vpholder" of Barnabe Rich, and was himself a poet. In all probability he penned the fourth act of " Tancrcd and Gismunda," in Dodsley's Collection, and if we may rely upon the authority of the writer of Polimanteia (who not publishing until four years after Sir C. Hatton's death, seems to have had no motive to Hatter), he must have been a con- siderable poet. " Then (says he) name but Hatton, the Muses fauorite, the Churches musick, Learn- ings Patron, my once poore Hands ornament ; the Courtiers grace, the Schollars countenance and the Guardes Captaine." Elliot. A fine specimen of the art of sinking in prose, for the ridicule of a new Mart inns. Bour>t. I quote it for the inference, not for the style : " Sir Christopher Hatton, L. Chancelor of England," is inserted in the margin, and from hence it would seem that he had written much more than has come down to our time. 138 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. Morton. Ritson only mentions an acrostic by him, and there is some doubt about that : " the Church's music," in what you read from Polimanteia, would imply that he had translated Psalms, or at least, written some sacrpd poems. Horace Walpole, if I recollect rightly, attributes to a kinsman of Sir Christopher's a translation of the Psalms, not printed till 1644, and Wood assigns them to Jeremy Taylor. It is not impossible that they were in fact the work of Lord Chancellor llatton. But what says Rich regarding him in his " Farewel :" any thing relating to his works r Bourne. I wish he did ; but still what he tells us is interesting : it principally refers to the magni- ficent house llatton built at his birth-place, Hol- denby, in Northamptonshire, and the state and hos- pitality there observed, which gives one a good notion of the housekeeping of the great men of that day. He says : " And here I cannot but speake of the bounty of that noble gentleman Sir Christopher llatton, my very good Alaister and vpholder ; who hauing builded a house in Northamtonshire, called by the name of lloldenby, which house for the brauery of the buildings, for the statelinesse of the chambers, for the rich furniture of the lodgings, for the conucyance of the offices, and for all other ne- cessaries appertenent to a l'allace of pleasure, is thought by those that have iudgement, to be incom- parable, and to haue no fellowe in England that is out of her Maiesties hands : and although this house EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 139 is not yet fully finished, and is but a newe erection, yet it differeth farre from the workesthat are vsed now a daies in many places. I meane where the houses are built with a great nuber of chimnies, and yet the smoke comes forth but at one tunnel. This house is not built on that manner, for as it hath sundry Chimnies, so they cast forth seuerall smoakes j and such worthy port and daily hospitality kept, that although the owner himselfe vseth not to come there once in two yeares, yet I dare vndertake, there is daily prouision to be found conuenient to intertaine any noble man with his whole traine, that should hap to call in of a sodaine. And how many gentlemen and strangers, that comes but to see the house are there dayly welcommed, feasted, and well lodged, from whence he shold come, be he rich, be he poore, that should not there be entertained, if it please him to call in. To bee short, Holdenby giueth daily re- liefe to such as be in want, for the space of sixe or seauen miles compasse." Elliot. I should not complain of your reading that extract, or of your dwelling so long on the pre- fatory matter of almost any other book ; but when we have so important and so interesting an object in view, I can hardly spare time even to inquire who and what was the author of the tale which Shake- speare condescended to adapt to the stage. I lowever, as I know nothing about Barnabe Rich, I must first beg you to take my ignorance into consideration. 140 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. Morton. Did Rich write nothing- but puose ? for his name, I see, is not even mentioned by llitson. Bourne. It is an unaccountable omission, and the same strange error is committed by Sir E. Brydges, in his new edition of the Theatrum Poeta- rum. Mr. Haslewood, however, has, in a great de- gree, supplied the deficiency in the late reprint of " the Paradise of Dainty Devises," but he neglects some particulars of Rich's biography that might have been gleaned from his pamphlets : indeed he does not notice the titles of several ; one of them is called " A short Suruey of Ireland," bearing date at London, in the reign of William the Conqueror. Elliot. Explain what you mean. Bourne. Why, if printed dates would decide the point, there would here be an end of the mighty dispute about the Oxford St. Jerome, for this tract by Rich purports to have been printed 399 years before it, viz. in 1069. Morton 1 . An obvious misprint for 160!), by the transposition of the figures. Elliot, (an we not defer such trifles, that we may the sooner arrive at the point to which we are directing our course ? Bourne. You must not be quite so free in the use of your whip, or your horses may grow restive. I will not delay you by reading the titles of the several tracts omitted by Mr. Haslewood, and they arc" of less interest, because they relate chiefly to Ireland : EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 141 they, however, contain some biographical particu- lars } for instance, in the dedication of his " Short Suruey of Ireland" to the Earl of Saresbury, he speaks of himself as a mere Souldier, in which capacity old Churchyard saw him acting in the Netherlands about 157 c 2. " I am no diuine (says Rich) and it is truth ; I am no scholler and that is true too : what am I then ? I am a Souldier, a professed Souldier, better practised in my pike than in my penne." In his " New Description of Ireland," 1610, after abusing " idle Poets, Bardes, and Rythmers" who have written falsehoods upon the subject, he talks of his service in the army for 40 years ; and two years after- wards, in his " Excuse" for the above work, he adds that it was then 4() years or thereabouts since he first came into Ireland. Elliot. What is your authority for saying that Churchyard saw Rich acting as a soldier in the Netherlands about 1572? Bourxe. He was one of the phalanx of poets who united their endeavours under Elizabeth to free the Low Countries from the weight of the Spanish yoke. At the head of them, you know, Avas Sir Philip Sidney, and the names of Gascoyne, Churchyard, Whetstone, Rich, and others, are to be included in the muster-roll. Morton. Churchyard, iii Lis " Trve Discovrse historical! of the succeeding (iovernovrs in the Netherlands," 1G0 C >, a tract we have before noticed, 142 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. states several facts, quoting in the margin (p. 19), " Captaine Barnabey Rich his notes." George Gas- eoyne, in the same passage, is called a captain. Bourxe. That piece by Churchyard is one of his latest, and one of his commonest ; but it contains some important historical facts, and among them a very interesting account, which I have not seen quoted, of the manner of the death of Sir P. Sidney before Zuphen, on the 22d of September 15S6*. Churchyard gives the relation on the authority of Whetstone, who, as you have seen, wrote a funeral poem on the fate of this worthy. Elliot. It is impossible for the name of Sidney to be mentioned without feeling a deep interest to knoW all that can be said regarding him ; therefore let us hear the passage. Bourne. A small part of it is sufficient. " This noble Knight (says Churchyard, citing Whetstone, with whom he Avas no doubt personally intimate) like Crrsar, charged the enemie so sore, that first an enuious Musquetier from the spightfull Spaniards espying his oportunitie slew his horse vnder him : who getting to horse again was with a poysoned bullet from the enemie shot in the thigh, wanting his Cuisses, which might have defended lam. The wound being deepe and shiuering the bone, yet his heart was good, and his courage little abated, one Vdal, a gentleman, alighted and led his horse softly, to whom he thus spake : Let goe, let goe till I Jail EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 143 to the ground, The foe shall miss the glory of my wound. And so riding out of the field with a rare & constant courage, his wound was searched, no salue too deare but was sought, no skill so curious but was tried to cure ease & recover this noble souldier languishing in paine, all remediles." Elliot. Churchyard there quotes two lines from Whetstone's funeral poem. Morton. He does, and what you have read, I think, is followed by an epitaph by Whetstone upon Sidney. Bourne. Churchyard inserts two epitaphs j but one of them has been reprinted : that by Whetstone is but just worth preserving. " Here vnder lyes Phillip Sydney Knight, True to his Prince, learned, staid and wise ; Who lost his life in honourable fight, Who vanquisht death, in that he did despise To liue in pompe, by others brought to passe ; Which oft he tearm'd a Dyamond set in Brasse." Morton. This puts me in mind of a question I had to ask, and which I forgot until now. You remem- ber, perhaps, that Sir John Harington, in the notes to the 1 6th book of his Orlando Furioso, mentions Sir P. Sidney, and an epitaph written upon him by Sir Walter Paleigh, in which, according to Harington, he is called " the Scipio and the Petrarke of our time :" where is that epitaph to be found : 144 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. Bourne. That is a question I should he glad to he ahle to answer, as I never could discover any such epitaph : yet I cannot help being persuaded that it once existed though now lost, and that Sir John Harington is not mistaken. Morton. That translation of Ariosto, much as it has been abused, has had the honour of being em- ployed by Milton in the first book of his treatise " Of Reformation touching Church Discipline." Bourne. He quotes, with verbal accuracy, the four last lines of the 72d stanza of 15. 34, but he disapproves entirely of the mode in which Harington rendered the four last lines of the 79th stanza of the same book, and accordingly wholly alters it ; so that Milton's testimony is both for and against the translation. Morton. I only noticed it by the way, and not with any view to draw on a discussion now about Sir John Harington's merits. Do not let us wander farther from Rich and his " Farewell to Militarie Profession." Our preface has already been suf- ficiently long and excursive. Elliot. You mentioned 3Ir. Haslewood's list of Rich's productions, and certain omissions he had made. Is the "Farewel" now under our considera- tion, mentioned by him ? Bourne. It is not, and there are few who pos- sess more knowledge on the subject of old poetry than the gentleman you have named. This error he EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 145 commits in common with all bibliographers, nor have I seen the " Farewell to Militarie profession" included in any catalogue that has come under my observation. Morton. It is as important a discovery, recol- lecting its contents, as could be well made : a first edition would of course be still more valuable. Bourne. I dare say a copy of it exists, if one knew where to lay one's hands upon it. Elliot. What is the general plan of the work? the title-page only mentions " pleasant discourses:" what is to be understood by those words ? Bourne. The word Discourse had a very un- defined meaning at that time : Rich uses it to ex- press what we now call novels or tales, and of these there are eight in this small 4to. volume, so that they are not of very considerable length. In an address " to the Readers in generall," Rich observes : " The Histories (altogeather) are eight in number, whereof, the first, the second, the fift, the seuenth, and eight are tales that are but forged onely for delight ; neither credible to be beleeued, nor hurtfull to be perused. The third, the fourth, and the sixt are Italian Histories written likewise for pleasure by maister L. B." Elliot. And which of these is the foundation of Shakespeare's play ? Bourne. The second. The commentators an- ticipated what has now fortunately occurred, that 146 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. the original novel of Twelfth Night might, at some future time, be discovered. The likeness in parts is extremely strong, and indeed there will be no room for any doubt, whether Shakespeare did or did not employ it. Morton. But we have not yet heard the title, of the novel ; as it is the second it conies among those which the author states " are but forged only for delight." Bourne. The history is entitled " Of Apolonius axd Silla," and you will find that throughout Shakespeare has changed all the names, as indeed in such cases he frequently did. — The argument of the story is thus given after the title. " The argument of the second Historic. ^[ Apolonius, Duke, hauiug spent a yeares seruice in the warres against the Turke, returning home- ward with his eompanie by sea was driuen by force of weather to the He of Cypres, where he was well receiued by Pontus gouernour of the same lie, with whom Silla, daughter to Pontus, fell so strangely in louc that after Apolonius was departed to Constan- tinople, Silla with one man followed and comming to Constantinople she serued Apolonius m the habitc of a man, and after many pretie accidents falling out, she was knowne to Apolonius, who in requital! of her loue married her." Morton. Excepting the circumstance of Silla EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 147 serving the duke in man's attire, and their subsequent marriage, the argument does not indicate any other resemblance to Shakespeare's play : Rich lays his scene in Constantinople, but Shakespeare in Illyria. Elliot. Sebastian and Olivia, or any persons an- swering to them, seem entirely omitted by Rich. Bourne. In the argument, not in the story: you would not wish to have the argument as long and as particular as the narrative : it cannot include every thing ; notwithstanding, it was merely casting my eye over the argument that first led me to sus- pect a resemblance, which I afterwards found most satisfactorily confirmed. The body of the history opens with various reflections on the influence of " Dame Errour" in human affairs, and especially in those of love, after which it relates that Apolonius, " a worthy Duke," a very young man, who had levied an army and served against the Turk, while Constantinople was yet in the hands of the Christians, returning home after one year's victories, was com- pelled, by stress of weather, to seek shelter in Cyprus (or Cypres, as Rich calls it) : he was here entertained very courteously by Pontus, the governor, who had a son named Silvio and a daughter named Silla : the latter soon fell desperately in love with Duke Apolo- nius, and " vsed so great familiarity with him, as her honour might well permitte, and fed him with such amorous baites as the modesty of a maide could reasonably afforde." l 'I 148 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. Elliot. Then does Silvio, brother to Silla, cor- respond with Shakespeare's Sebastian, brother to Viola ? Bourne. Throughout. — Apolonius makes no re- turn, and indeed scarcely seems to notice the at- tentions of the young lady, but with the first fair wind sails home to Constantinople. Thither Silla resolves to follow him, and is aided in her design by Pedro, a faithful servant, in whose company, and as whose sister, she embarks in a galley that happened to be preparing to quit the port. On the voyage the captain falls in love with the beautiful damsel, makes amorous advances, and at last offers her violence : she is obliged by his threats to appear consenting, and having obtained a short respite, she is about to destroy herself with a knife, to prevent the completion of the wicked purposes of her boister- ous lover, when a dreadful storm opportunely rises to divert her from her purpose, and the vessel being wrecked, all are drowned excepting Silla, Avho escapes by clinging to a chest belonging to the captain. Morton. To all this there is nothing parallel in Shakespeare. We hear nothing of any previous love, or even acquaintance, between Duke Orsino and Viola. Elliot. All we have been told is antecedent, I suppose : Shakespeare begins alter tiu: storm, and of course omits what occurred during the voyage. Bourne. It has always struck me as a defect in EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 149 Shakespeare's highly finished play, that the motive for the voyage of Viola is not sufficiently explained : she tells the captain only that she had heard her father name Duke Orsino ; but in the first instance she seems desirous rather to be taken into the service of Olivia than of the Duke : " O that I serv'd that Lady, And might not be deliver' d to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is," are her words. Morton*. She did not then perhaps contemplate her disguise. "While serving Olivia she might have an opportunity of seeing the Duke. Bourne. Dr. Johnson remarks upon this part of the play : " Viola seems to have formed a very deep design with very little premeditation : she is thrown by shipwreck on an unknown coast : hears that the Prince is a bachelor, and resolves to supplant the lady whom he courts." This objection is well- founded, as it applies to readers of the present day, but I apprehend it is not so well-founded with reference to Shakespeare's audiences. It is an ac- knowledged fact, that the stories he availed him- self of were popular, the incidents were generally well known, and the hearers could therefore supply certain omissions from their memories. When Viola observes, 150 EIGHTH CONVERSATION '•' I have heard my father name him : lie was a bachelor then," she tells no more, in order not to disclose her design to the captain of the ship, but intends to say just enough to draw from him the huts, that he yet re- mained single, and that he was engaged in courtship to Olivia. Elliot. If Shakespeare had used the same names for his characters as Rich gives them, your argument would have been more conclusive ; as it is, I have some doubts upon the point : but let us proceed with the novel. Bourne. Silla breaks open the chest that had been the means of her preservation during the storm, and finding it tilled with men's apparel, she clothes herself in one of the suits : thus attired, she travels to Constantinople, and there presents herself to the Duke, who, " perceiuing him to be a proper smogue young man, gaue him entertainment." Silla at this time took upon herself her brother's name. We now come to Olivia, or the. lady who in Rich's novel answers to her : she is called Julina, and is represented as a young beautiful widow, whose husband had died lately, and left her extremely rich. Shakespeare thought it would have a better effect to describe her as a virgin whose brother was recently deceased. Mokton. It has been objected that there is some impropriety in Olivia having her house filled by such EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 151 persons as Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Ague- cheek : the impropriety might have been less striking had Shakespeare fallowed Rich's story in this respect more exactly. Bourne. In Shakespeare's age I do not know that such a circumstance would have made any very material difference. Rich thus speaks of Ju- lina : "At this very instaunt there was remainyng in the Cittie a noble Dame, a widdowe, whose hus- band was but lately deceased, one of the noblest men that were in the partes of Grecia, who left his Lady and wife large possessions and great liuings. This ladyes name was called Iullna, who besides the aboundance of her wealth and the greatnesse of her reuenues, had likewise the soueraigntie of all the Dames of Constantinople for her beautie." Morton. Rich does not scruple to be guilty of tautologies. Bourne. He proceeds in these terms : " To this Lady hdina Apolonius became an earnest suter, and according to the manner of woers, besides faire wordes, sorrowfull sighes and piteous countenaunces, there must be sending of louing letters, Chaines, Braceletes, Brouches, Ringes, Tablets, Gemmes, Iuels and presents, I know not what. So my Duke who in the time that he remained in the lie of Cypres, had no skill at all in the arte of Lone, although it were more then half proffered vnto him, was now become a scholler in Loues Schoole and had alreadie 152 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. learned his first lesson ; that is, to speake pittifullv, to iooke ruthfully, to promise largely, to scrue dili- gently and to speake carefully: Now he was learn- ing his second lesson, that is, to reward liberally., to giue bountifully, to present willingly and to write louingly. Thus Apolonius was so busied in his new study that, I warrant you, there was no man that could chalenge him for plaiyng the truant, he fol- lowed his profession with so good will : And who must be the messenger to carrie the tokens and loue letters to the Lady Ialina but Silnio his man : in him the Duke reposed his onely cofidence to goe between him and his Lady." Elliot. Now the resemblance begins to open upon us. Boukxe. And it will grow more and more striking every minute. After some reflections on the cruel situation in which Silla, alias Silvio, was placed, Rich goes on thus: " Iulina now hauing many times taken the gaze of this vong youth Siluio, per- ceiuing him to bee of such excellent perfect grace, was so intangeled with the often sight of this sweete temptation that sbe fell into as great a liking with the man, as the maister was with her selfe : And on a time Siluio beyng sent from his maister with a message to the Lady Iulina, as he beganne very earnestly to solieite in his maisters behalfe, Ialina interrupting him in his tale saied : Siluio, it is enough that you haue saied for your maister ; from EIGHTH CONVERSATION. 153 henceforth either speake for your self or say nothing at all. Silla, abashed to heare these words, bega in her mind to accuse the blindnes of loue, that Iidina, neglecting the good of so noble a Duke, wold pre- ferre her loue vnto such a one as nature it selfe had denied to recopence her liking." Elliot. Ay, now we enter into the very heart of Shakespeare's play: he vrai pent quelquefois rCetre pas vraisemblable, and this was an instance, for your assertion did not at first seem borne out. Bourne. I thought you were at first a little incredulous : you seemed afraid of coming under the ironical censure of our friend Rabelais, " Un homme de bons setis croit toujour :s ce qu'on luy diet Sf quil troiive par escript." We now come to Silla 1 s brother, Silvio, the Sebastian of Shakespeare: Silvio at the time of these transactions was in the interior of Africa, and was not like Sebastian wrecked in the same ship with Viola. Returning to Cyprus, he vows to discover Silla, and after various travels he arrives at Constantinople, " where as he was walking in an euening for his owne recreation on a pleasante grene yarde without the walles of the Cittie, he fortuned to meet with the Lady Iidina, who likewise had been abroad to take the aire ; and as she sodainly east her eyes vpon Siluio, thinking him to be her olde acquaintance, by reason they were so like one another, as you have heard before, said vnto him, sir, Siluio, if your hast be not the greater, I pray you let me haue a little talke with 154 EIGHTH CONVERSATION. you, seeing I haue so luckily met you in this place." At first the young man appears somewhat astonished and shy, but noting the lady's beauty, he affects to have forgotten himself, and to be what Julina sup- poses him. Julina, as a widow, may be excused for being something bolder than a virgin, and she actually invites Silvio not only to her house, but to her bed, and he consents without reluctance. Morton. Something more must be said about the resemblance of the brother and sister, to account for the mistake, than ivhat you read just now: you probably omitted to mention it. Bourne. I forgot it in the proper place; for it is stated that Silvio loved his sister Silla