Defence of Poesie
(Ponsonby, 1595)
Sir Philip Sidney
This Renascence
Editions publication was transcribed, with an introduction, notes,
and bibliography, by Risa S.
Bear for the University of Oregon,
September-December 1992. Original material copyright 1992, 1995 the
editor
and the University of Oregon.
Converted to HTML by
Risa S.
Bear, March 1995.
Contents:
A note on the WWW edition
This etext of Philip
Sidney's Defence of Poesie is based on the Scolar Press
facsimile
of the
British Museum's copy (Shelf-mark: C.57.b.38) of the Ponsonby editon of
the Defence. It was transcribed in October, 1992 by Risa S.
Bear
of the University of Oregon and proofed by Risa S. Bear and Micah Bear.
The editor acknowledges the invaluable guidance of Professor William
Rockett
in making improvements to the Introduction. The letters "j," "u" and
"v"
have been normalized for the modern reader, and catchwords eliminated;
otherwise the old spellings have been retained. As in the original
Ponsonby
text, there is neither paragraphing nor pagination. Quotations found in
the original in the Greek alphabet have generally been transliterated,
and a few corrections of compositor's typographical errors or omissions
have been made which will be found within square brackets. Endnotes are
serially numbered and are enclosed within braces. Copyright (1992) for
this edition belongs to the University of Oregon; it is freely
distributed
for nonprofit scholarly and teaching purposes only.
Introduction
National
Portrait Gallery
Biographical note
Born into great
expectations
at the estate of Penshurst, Kent, on 30 November 1554, Philip Sidney
was
educated at Shrewsbury Grammar School in Shropshire, and entered Corpus
Christi College, Oxford, in 1568. After three years, he departed for
the
traditional "Grand Tour" of continental Europe, arriving in Paris 1572,
the year of the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, of which he was an
eyewitness.
He became friends with the noted humanist scholar Hubert Languet, and
spent
the winter with him at Frankfort. In 1573 he passed through Hungary and
Vienna on his way to Venice, and the following winter visited Padua,
Florence,
and Genoa. Sidney joined Edward Wotton for an embassy to the Imperial
Court
at Vienna, 1574-5, and returned to England, after a visit to Poland, in
June 1575. In 1576 he became Queen Elizabeth's cupbearer and traveled
to
Ireland to take part in the campaign with Essex. For several years, the
gallant, dashing, and well-traveled young Sidney, who was greatly
admired
on the Continent and at home, waited for an opportunity to serve his
Queen
in some capacity commensurate with his abilities, but no such
opportunity
came-- perhaps because his volatile temperament could not safely be
employed
in the temporizing style of government she required to ensure
stability.
It was probably in 1578 that Sidney's small pageant, The
Lady of May, was presented before the Queen in vain hopes of
persuading
her to look with more favor on his uncle Leicester (and by extension,
himself).
At this time he also began work on the Old Arcadia, which he
completed
about 1581. Finding employment at Court virtually denied him, Sidney at
this time (1578-82) divided his time between visits with his friends
(including
Edmund Spenser, who published The
Shepheardes Calender in 1579) and his own writing, including The
Defence of Poesie [1580-81], Certaine Sonets [1581], and Astrophel
and Stella [1581-2]. He also began, but did not complete, a new
version of the Arcadia.
Beginning about 1583, it
seemed Sidney's
fortunes might be about to turn. He was knighted in that year, so that
he could stand in for his absent friend Prince Casimir of the
Palatinate
in installation as a Knight of the Garter. An important appointment
came
to him soon after, assisting the Earl of Warwick, Master of Ordinance,
in preparing the defense of England against possible invasion by the
Spanish.
In the fall, he married Frances Walsingham.
It was Sidney's belief that
the best
way to slow the advance of the Spanish empire on the Continent was to
attack
the colonies of Spain in the New World. He arranged, in 1584, to sail
with
Sir Francis Drake on such an expedition but was recalled by the Queen
at
the last moment and made governor of Flushing, in the Netherlands.
Sidney
took up the cause of the overextended and unpaid garrison but
discovered
that his uncle, the Earl of Leicester, had diverted the allocated funds
to his own use. Sidney nevertheless rallied the troops as best he
could,
and, going to the relief of the garrison at Zutphen, 22 September 1586,
was wounded in the thigh by a musket ball. The wound festered, and he
died,
in great pain, at Arnheim, 17 October. All of Europe was stunned by the
loss, and the body of Philip Sidney was laid to rest with a lavish
state
funeral at St. Paul's cathedral, London, 16 February 1587 (Kimbrough,
unpaginated
chronology, Sir Philip Sidney).
The Defence of Poesie
Sidney's famous essay
is said
to be a response to an attack on poetry and stage plays, which had been
dedicated to him without his permission, by Stephen Gosson, a former
playwright: The
Schoole of
Abuse, 1579. Another reply, inferior but interesting, had been
published
by Thomas
Lodge
in 1580.
Henry Olney produced
a printing
of An Apologie for Poetrie in the spring of 1595; this edition
proved
to be unauthorized, as William Ponsonby had entered the work in the
Stationer's
register on November 29, 1594. Olney was directed to halt sale and turn
over his remaining copies to Ponsonby, who replaced the title page with
his own and sold the copies along with his own printing. These combined
copies, and those of Ponsonby's own edition printed by Thomas Creede,
are
rare, whereas Olney's exists in a number of copies. Four versions of
the Defence are known: The Penshurst manuscript, De L'Isle MS.
no. 1226;
The Norwich manuscript found in 1966 in a commonplace book of Francis
Blomefield's; An
Apologie for Poetrie, Olney's printing of 1595, and Ponsonby's The
Defence of Poesie of the same year. An examination of the paper
used
in the two manuscript versions, which was done at the request of Mary
Mohl,
the discoverer of the Norwich maunuscript, suggested that the latter,
though
in some respects inferior, is the older of the two (The Apology for
Poetry xxiv). If this is the case, a stemma of these documents
might
appear as follows:
Fair Copy (no longer extant) | | Copy seen by both/ \Copy seen by both Ponsonby's compositor Norwich scribe and |------Penshurst scribe Olney's compositor--| | (no longer extant) (no longer extant) | | | | | | | Norwich, 1584-1595 (?) | | | | | Ponsonby, 1595 Olney, 1595 | Penshurst (Robert Sidney's copy) ca. 1600
A definitive edition,
collating all
these, and recording all variants, with excellent endnotes, may be
found
in Miscellaneous Prose of Sir Philip Sidney [1973], edited by
Katherine
Duncan-Jones and Jan Van Dorsten. See also Katherine Duncan-Jones'
excellent
contribution to the Oxford Authors Series of Oxford University Press, Sir
Philip Sidney [1989]. The notes are, as is usual in the series,
outstanding,
especially in tracing Sidney's reading in Scaliger and the classical
authors.
Many scholars, some of whom
have
devoted a lifetime with skill and devotion to the task, have written on
Sidney and on the Defence, so a definitive general introduction
will not be attempted here. There is one aspect of the Defence,
however, that has been often noted only in passing, and often
dismissively,
and as I feel it is Sidney's main point I will attempt to throw a
little
light on it. Sidney is conscious throughout his defence that it is fiction
he is defending, and that his strength lies in attacking the privilege
generally accorded to "fact." He says that "of all writers under the
Sunne,
the Poet is the least lyer"; that is, the practitioners of what we now
call the academic disciplines are regularly betrayed by their
literalism,
while the poet, who is under no illusions, freely creates "fictional"
statements
as true as any other, and the truer for not being asserted as literal.
Sidney's approach is characteristic of Renaissance humanism, and more
closely
akin to modern semiotic theory than is generally appreciated.
Renaissance education came
to specialize
in rhetoric at a time in which political and economic power came to be
concentrated in the courts of princes. This can hardly be a
coincidence.
Every courtier was trained to the art of sprezzatura, of skill
in
seeming effortlessness in horsemanship, swordplay, singing, dancing,
speaking,
and writing, so as to catch the eye of those higher in the hierarchy,
and
especially that of the prince. Self-presentation has always been and
remains
the first move in the game of self-advancement, but for the Renaissance
in general and Elizabethans especially, "fashioning a self," to echo
Spenser,
was an obsession. Peter Ramus and the humanist rhetoricians provided a
timely operating environment for such pursuits, because their
foregrounding
of the provisional status of any assertion helped the courtiers to
understand
self-image as a work in progress rather than as a cynical device.
The Defence of Poesie
reflects
the humanist education which Shrewsbury and Oxford had given to Sidney,
and reflects on the rhetorical aims of self-presentation with which an
underemployed Elizabethan gentleman would undertake such a work. It
follows
the rules and outline of a standard argument: exordium, proposition,
division,
examination, refutation, digression, peroration; and does so with a
spirit
and style that must have done its author great credit in the eyes of
his
contemporaries. The Defence serves almost as a copia of
Renaissance
theory, for Sidney brings every available gun to bear on his objective:
Pliny, Musaeus, Homer, Hesiod, Orpheus, Linus, Amphion, Livius
Andronicus,
Ennius, Dante, Boccaccio, Petrarch, Gower, Chaucer, Thales, Empedocles,
Parmenides, Pythagoras, Phocilydes, Herodotus, Virgil, Xenophon,
Tremellius,
Junius, Tyrtaeus, Lucretius, Manilius, Pontanus, Lucan, Cicero,
Heliodorus,
Plato, Aristotle, Cornelius Agrippa, Horace, Terence, More, Erasmus,
"Dares
Phrygius," Plautus, Euripides, Phocion, Sannazaro, Boethius, Persius,
Plutarch,
Pindar, Tasso, Ovid, Dio Cassius, Ariosto, Scaliger, Bembo, Bibbiena,
Beze,
Melancthon, Fracastorio, Muret, Buchanan, Hurault, Juvenal, Surrey,
Spenser,
Sackville, Norton, Apuleius, Demosthenes, Landino, and both Old and New
Testaments are all cited in support of his position, which as every
critic
will tell you is that poetry is useful because it delights as it
teaches,
a view that dates back to Horace and beyond.
The venerable tradition of
didacticism,
and Sidney's heavy reliance upon it in the Defence, has
sometimes
led to a tendency to dismiss the Defence as derivative: "not a
very
original theorist," says Hazard Adams in Critical Theory Since Plato
(154). Adams himself, however, notices something that "sounds modern"
in
Sidney's argument that the poet "nothing affirmeth, and therefore never
lieth." He perceptively compares Sidney on this point to I.A. Richards,
but concludes that the comparison will go nowhere because "Sidney does
not have a modern theory of language" (154). While it is obvious that
Sidney
had not the advantage, in his education, of having read Ferdinand de
Saussure
and his successors, I believe it is a mistake, on the basis of our own
historical chauvinism, not to seek the implications of Sidney's
argument,
and to callously assume that Sidney did not himself see some of those
implications.
Nor was Sidney alone in so seeing; Renaissance humanists, of whom
Sidney
was one, understood not merely formal rhetoric but epistemology and
even
ontology in terms of appearances.
Throughout the period,
diagrams appeared
in books, such as Andrew Borde's The First Book of the Introduction
to Knowledge [1542], or Robert Fludd's Utriusque Cosmi Historia
[1616], relating the Ptolemaic cosmology to the idea of a "great chain
of being" in which the cosmos is arranged as a hierarchy in which each
successive level downward in the hierarchy contains entities which are
analogies of entities in the preceding level; to begin to understand
the
world view of those who produced these diagrams, it may help to
visualize
ourselves not as "made in the image of God" in the sense that we are
independent
objects that resemble God, but are actual depictions of God, like
paintings.
In this view, nature is not divided from God in the way in which we are
accustomed, after Descartes, to think, but is something more like a
thought
or imagination in the mind of God. As imago dei, we reflect our
Maker in all that we do, and most of all in doing what our Maker does:
to make, especially by imagining. To attempt to improve one's image is
then not the dishonest activity which an Enlightenment materialist
assumes
it to be, but in imitatio dei, is to participate in the
creative
activity of the Cosmos. Such a world view will hold that all
epistemological
practice will be mimetic in procedure, and this is in fact what Sidney
tells us early on:
There
is no Art delivered unto mankind that hath not the workes of nature
for his principall object, without which they could not consist, and on
which they so depend, as they become Actors & Plaiers, as it were
of
what nature will have set forth. So doth the Astronomer looke upon the
starres, and by that he seeth set downe what order nature hath taken
therein.
So doth the Geometritian & Arithmetitian, in their divers sorts of
quantities. So doth the Musitians intimes tel you, which by nature
agree,
which not. The natural Philosopher thereon hath his name, and the
morall
Philosopher standeth uppon the naturall vertues, vices, or passions of
man: and follow nature saith he therein, and thou shalt not erre. The
Lawier
saith, what men have determined. The Historian, what men have done. The
Gramarian, speaketh onely of the rules of speech, and the Rhetoritian
and
Logitian, considering what in nature wil soonest proove, and perswade
thereon,
give artificiall rules, which still are compassed within the circle of
a question, according to the proposed matter. The Phisitian wayeth the
nature of mans bodie, & the nature of things helpfull, or hurtfull
unto it. And the Metaphisicke though it be in the second & abstract
Notions, and therefore be counted supernaturall, yet doth hee indeed
build
upon the depth of nature.
"By that he seeth set down
what order
nature hath taken therein." The sciences map the patterns
of
their objects of inquiry. The poet has the advantage over these, says
Sidney,
in that he creates a meta-map, or seeks to re-present the mind itself
("first
nature") in which nature ("second nature") is but a thought. Poetic
imagination
brings forth a model on which readers or audiences can build their own
characters for the better: it
worketh,
not onely to make a Cyrus, which had bene but a particular excellency
as
nature might have done, but to bestow a Cyrus upon the world to make
many
Cyrusses, if they will learne aright, why and how that maker made him.
It is this poetic mold from
which so
many Cyruses can be formed that Sidney refers to as architectonike,
the science of sciences. The argument between the philosopher and the
historian
which Sidney vividly describes is a battle for the honor of being taken
for the prescribing artist. The philosopher gives precepts but does not
map them onto the world; the historian gives a picture of the world,
but
cannot by mere description point us to the precepts which would bring
it
into harmony with the divine mind; the poet then takes away the honor
from
them both by relating the precepts to the world, mapping "should" onto
"is," as it were:
Now
doth the peerlesse Poet performe both [the work of the philosopher
and the historian], for whatsoever the Philosopher saith should be
done,
he gives a perfect picture of it by some one, by whom he presupposeth
it
was done, so as he coupleth the generall notion with the particuler
example.
The poet's "presupposition"
makes no
assertion of fact, though it is important to note that it does imply an
assertion that the model presented is, if "rightly" done, exemplary.
Every
practitioner of an "art" or "science" proceeds by mimetic activity, in
observing and then in proceeding through metaphor to represent to
society
what has been observed. Only the poet (here, creator of fiction, or
literary
practitioner) trades in metaphor itself rather than in its product.
This
is not strictly true, even for Sidney, for he admits that the priest or
preacher takes precedence in such trading. But he does not admit that
theologians
work in anything "better" than metaphor; instead, he refers to David
and
Jesus as poets, and suggests, albeit obliquely, that all didacticism is
dependent upon a merely posited and purely metaphorical world view. A
simpler
way to put all this is that there is unfortunately no alternative to
simply
taking our belief in God, the cosmos, our earth as we perceive it, and
our society as we experience it, on faith and not as anything known
directly
in and of itself. The lines drawn ("coupleth") in mental space between
"notion" and "example" are the very stuff of which all knowledge,
Sidney
implies, is made.
Sidney hammers this point
home by
his argument on "lies." Poets are accused of lying, since there is no
necessary
connection between their models and observed phenomena. His reply is
that
in all the other arts, the assumption is made that models re-present
observations
accurately; but this is never so. Therefore he can assert
that
of all writers under the Sunne, the Poet is the least lyer: and
though
he wold, as a Poet can scarecely be a lyer. The Astronomer with his
cousin
the Geometrician, can hardly escape, when they take upon them to
measure
the height of the starres. How often thinke you do the Phisitians lie,
when they averre things good for sicknesses, which afterwards send
Charon
a great number of soules drowned in a potion, before they come to his
Ferrie?
And no lesse of the rest, which take upon them to affirme. Now for the
Poet, he nothing affirmeth, and therefore never lieth: for as I take
it,
to lie, is to affirme that to bee true, which is false. So as the other
Artistes, and especially the Historian, affirming manie things, can in
the clowdie knowledge of mankinde, hardly escape from manie lies.
The argument is at first
glance specious.
Of course fictions are false; that is what fiction means. Our common
sense
(empiricist) assumption, which has gained ground greatly since the age
of Hobbes and Newton, is that while Sidney's point is well taken, in
that
our technicians have as yet gotten the facts wrong, but he must be
joking,
for the facts are nevertheless there, and they will get them
right
eventually. But I believe Sidney is serious here. He says, "in the
clowdy
knowledge of mankinde," with no qualifiers. That he does so provides us
with the crux of his argument.
From Petrarch on, the
assumption
of scholars during the Renaissance was that the centuries from the fall
of Rome until their own time were a "dark age," in which the great
knowledge
of the ancients fell into disuse; it was their mission to recover
something
of the glory of Greece and Rome by recovering and mastering their
literature
and "arts," or, interchangeably, "sciences." History, Philosophy,
Mathematics,
Astronomy, and Medicine were among these, as were painting and
sculpture,
music, and the production of literary works, especially epic, tragedy,
comedy, satire, lyric, pastoral, and other forms, which some
authorities
gathered together under the heading of "poesie." A student in England
in
the age of Ascham and Wilson could expect to be exposed to a wide range
of "arts" and literary and historical works under the curriculum--an
adaptation
of the medieval trivium--by which means students had for
centuries
been taught grammar, rhetoric, and dialectic. Although this curriculum
was often taught under the implicit assumption that it formed a
seamless
and perfect whole, it contained a contradiction that produced (and
still
produces today) considerable friction among thinkers and artists. Plato
had regarded rhetoric as a highly suspect art, productive of
immorality.
He argued for dialectic to be used in its place, which he defined as
the
science of understanding (architectonike) as oppposed to merely
convincing; he desired that the conclusion of a syllogism be true of
the
world to which it refers (Theatetus, Sophist, Phaedrus,
Republic). Aristotle had made a place for rhetoric within
dialectic by claiming that dialectic is simply the use of complete
syllogisms
to understand truth while rhetoric is the use of partial syllogisms to
attain specific ends, such as convincing a jury of one's innocence,
regardless
of one's actual guilt (Rhetoric).
But attacks against the
primacy of
dialectic had been made, notably by Peter Ramus, whose doctoral
dissertation
was on the topic "everything Aristotle said was wrong." Ramus chose to
invert Aristotle's position and upheld that dialectic is but a part of
rhetoric, thus re-privileging rhetoric as the architectonike,
or
science of sciences, as it had been formerly held by the Sophists to
be.
Ramus' insight was that an assumption generally made by dialecticians
is
that true premises can be found upon which to base the complete
syllogisms
that are intended to lead to true, that is, ontological, knowledge.
Ramus's
system of logic, unlike that of Aristotle, assumes that a premise
is
always only posited, and any conclusions based on it are likewise only
posited.
The empiricist view is that
the senses
report a "real" or literal world that is like our conception of it. The
empiricist view of language is that words refer to objects in a "real"
world, and that metaphor is a distortion of reference, so that a word
can
be used out of its proper context in order to make a useful statement
about
another kind of object in another context. Thus, we can say of a wise
prince:
"behold Cyrus!" -- transferring reference from the real Cyrus who was
wise
onto someone who is not Cyrus, but whose wisdom we wish to praise.
Sidney
calls our attention to the unsupportable assumption in the phrase "real
Cyrus." What real Cyrus? Historians cannot show us one; they are only
repeating
what they have heard. Their Cyrus is posited only. This realization
undermines
the empiricist view of language and suggests that contrary to what we
expect,
all reference is metaphorical. It is our insistence on literality that
is the distortion, for the literal is only metaphor that we have agreed
among ourselves to regard as somehow non- metaphorical. This idea is at
the root both of the effectiveness of the art of rhetoric and of our
uneasy
but continued acceptance of it. Plato sought an immaterial reality,
Aristotle
a material one; Sidney suspects that neither can be found by us, but at
best a model of a posited model, or copy of a posited copy (Plato's
nightmare)
can be fashioned and tested. This utilitarian view is the basis of
rhetorical
theory, and can be traced from the Sophists through Scaliger, Ramus,
and
the humanists, to Sidney, to Milton, to the reaction to the
Enlightenment
in Coleridge's criticism, and in our own time to suggestions made by
C.S.
Peirce, William James, Karl Popper, Owen Barfield, W.V. Quine, Benjamin
Lee Whorf, Stanley Fish, and many others.
Why, then, do critics feel
that Sidney
"does not have a modern theory of language"? The answer is that he does
not follow through on his own insight but applies the very principle he
has just refuted, that of the common-sense privileging of literality,
in
his criticism of the current drama; of it he complains that
Now
you shall have three Ladies walke to gather flowers, and then we
must
beleeve the stage to be a garden. By and by we heare newes of shipwrack
in the same place, then we are too blame if we accept it not for a
Rock.
Upon the back of that, comes out a hidious monster with fire and smoke,
and then the miserable beholders are bound to take it for a Cave: while
in the meane time two Armies flie in, represented with foure swords
&
bucklers, and then what hard hart wil not receive it for a pitched
field.
The complaint here is of the
English
habit of paying little or no attention to "unity of place." Sidney
believed,
along with Lodovico Castelvetro and others, that Aristotle had
proscribed
dramatic action beyond one circuit of the sun. The name of Aristotle as
the authority behind the notion of "unity of time" could hardly be
ignored.
Greeks in the time of Aristotle regarded physical presentation in drama
(and dance) as a sacred activity, and it was as important not to do
confusing
things with time as it would be not to get the words of a spell out of
sequence. Literality mattered; one cannot move twenty years in
one's
own body, so one's "stage" body ought not to do this either; it is an
insult
to the persona inhabited by the actor to be treated quite so
cavalierly.
Renaissance critics sensed that jumping the action from one location to
another involved the same problem as jumping it from one time to
another;
if we cannot get from the garden to the battlefield in three minutes
ourselves,
we should not have our actors do so. But in English drama, eighteen
hundred
years after the drama described by Aristotle, the tabu against
representing
a long story as nimbly with one's body as Homer was free to do with his
words has largely disappeared. The actors engage our imaginations only,
are visual as well as auditory metaphors, and the audience can provide
narrative unity itself by the use of memory. Though Sidney does not see
that his own destruction of literality points to the success, rather
than
failure, of the native theatrical tradition, he provides a glimpse of
the
solution even as he argues mistakenly for the literalism of observing
the
unities:
...you
shall have Asia of the one side, and Affricke of the other, and so
mannie other under Kingdomes, that the Player when he comes in, must
ever
begin with telling where he is, or else the tale will not be
conceived.
The players know what they are
about.
When they come in, they say:
Viola: What country, friends, is this? Captain: Illyria, lady.
The tale is immediately
conceived.
The charge that Sidney's
theory of
language is not modern is misdirected. He is accurate in his assessment
of language, and goes astray only when adopting a poetics that runs
counter
to his own theory. In Twelfth Night, which our unfortunate Sir
Philip
did not live to witness, we have both the refutation of the literalist
theory with which he was saddled, and the confirmation of the
metaphorical
theory he so brilliantly elucidated. In refutation, we easily conceive
the three months of the action, and its movement from seacoast to
palace,
street, and garden; the work is unified by its being a kind of land
voyage
of discovery, or rather recovery, of the losses that were sustained on
the high seas. In confirmation, the play is, as Sidney recommends, an
invention
that is eikastike, and not phantastike, in that it
figures
forth good things, showing its Viola as one who should be emulated and
its Malvolio as one who, perhaps, should not, though he never lacks his
humanity. And these are inventions all, the "lies" of the poet. Yet if
anyone should call Viola a lie, would we not give them the lie-direct?
She lives in our minds, and not necessarily in our minds alone: so far
substantially is she worked, not only to make a Viola, which had been
but
a particular excellency, as nature might have done, but to bestow a
Viola
upon the world, to make many Violas, if we will learn aright why and
how
that maker made her!
We all use metaphors, says
Sidney,
for we cannot communicate our various knowledges without them, literal
reference being a prerogative of a higher Nature than that we are born
to. But to some of us it is given to not merely use metaphors, but to
create
them. If, says he, we are so blinded by our literality that we must
condemn
our metaphor-makers out of hand, then we bring upon ourselves the curse
of oblivion, for our memorials are necessarily constructed entirely of
metaphor:
...and
when you die, your memorie die from the earth for want of an
Epitaphe.
The Defence of Poesie
cannot
be charged with lack of modernity until its linguistic premise can be
shown
to have been superseded. This has not yet occurred.
Risa Stephanie
Bear, 1992
(text)
Hen
the right vertuous E.W.{1} and I were at the
Emperours
Court togither, wee gave our selves to learne horsemanship of Jon
Pietro
Pugliano, one that with great commendation had the place of an Esquire
in his stable: and hee according to the fertilnes of the Italian wit,
did
not onely affoord us the demonstration of his practise, but sought to
enrich
our mindes with the contemplations therein, which he thought most
precious.
But with none I remember mine eares were at any time more loaden, then
when (either angred with slow paiment, or mooved with our learnerlike
admiration)
hee exercised his speech in the praise of his facultie. He said
souldiers
were the noblest estate of mankind, and horsemen the noblest of
souldiers.
He said they were the maisters of warre, and ornaments of peace,
speedie
goers, and strong abiders, triumphers both in Camps and Courts: nay to
so unbleeved a point he proceeded, as that no earthly thing bred such
wonder
to a Prince, as to be a good horseman. Skill of government was but a
Pedenteria{2}
in comparison, then would he adde certaine praises by telling us what a
peerless beast the horse was, the one serviceable Courtier without
flattery,
the beast of most bewtie, faithfulnesse, courage, and such more, that
if
I had not beene a peece of a Logician before I came to him, I thinke he
would have perswaded me to have wished myselfe a horse. But thus much
at
least, with his no few words he drave into me, that selflove is better
than any guilding, to make that seem gorgious wherein ourselves be
parties.
Wherein if Pulianos strong affection and weake arguments will not
satisfie
you, I will give you a nearer example of my selfe, who I know not by
what
mischance in these my not old yeares and idlest times, having slipt
into
the title of a Poet, am provoked to say something unto you in the
defence
of that my unelected vocation, which if I handle with more good will,
then
good reasons, beare with me, since the scholler is to be pardoned that
followeth in the steps of his maister. And yet I must say, that as I
have
more just cause to make a pittifull defence of poor Poetrie, which from
almost the highest estimation of learning, is falne to be the laughing
stocke of children, so have I need to bring some more available
proofes,
since the former is by no man bard of his deserved credit, the silly
lat[t]er,
hath had even the names of Philosophers used to the defacing of it,
with
great daunger of civill warre among the Muses. And first truly to all
them
that professing learning envey against Poetrie, may justly be objected,
that they go very neare to ungratefulnesse, to seeke to deface that
which
in the noblest nations and languages that are knowne, hath bene the
first
light giver to ignorance, and first nurse whose milk litle & litle
enabled them to feed afterwardes of tougher knowledges. And will you
play
the Hedge-hogge, that being received into the den, drave out his host?
Or rather the Vipers, that with their birth kill their parents? Let
learned
Greece in any of his manifold Sciences, be able to shew me one booke
before
Musaeus{3}, Homer, & Hesiod, all three
nothing else
but Poets. Nay let any Historie bee brought, that can say any writers
were
there before them, if they were not men of the same skill, as Orpheus,
Linus, and some other are named, who having bene the first of that
country
that made pennes deliverers of their knowledge to the posteritie, nay,
justly challenge to bee called their Fathers in learning. For not onely
in time they had this prioritie, (although in it selfe antiquitie be
venerable){4}
but went before them, as causes to draw with their charming sweetnesse
the wild untamed wits to an admiration of knowledge. So as Amphion{5},
was said to moove stones with his Poetry, to build Thebes, and Orpheus
to be listened to by beasts, indeed stonie and beastly people. So among
the Romans, were Livius, Andronicus, and Ennius, so in the Italian
language,
the first that made it aspire to be a treasure-house of Science, were
the
Poets Dante, Bocace, and Petrach. So in our English, wer Gower, and
Chawcer,
after whom, encoraged & delighted with their excellent foregoing,
others
have folowed to bewtify our mother toong, aswel in the same kind as
other
arts. This did so notably shew itself, that the Philosphers of Greece
durst
not a long time apear to the world, but under the mask of poets. So
Thales,
Empedocles, and Parmenides, sang their naturall Philosophie in verses.
So did Pithagoras and Phocillides, their morall Councels. So did
Tirteus
in warre matters, and Solon in matters of pollicie, or rather they
being
Poets{6}, did exercise their delightfull vaine
in those
points of highest knowledge, which before them laie hidden to the
world.
For, that wise Solon was directly a Poet, it is manifest, having
written
in verse the notable Fable of the Atlantick Iland, which was continued
by Plato. And truly even Plato who so ever well considereth, shall
finde
that in the body of his worke though the inside & strength were
Philosophie,
the skin as it were and beautie, depended most of Poetrie. For all
stands
upon Dialogues, wherein hee faines many honest Burgesses of Athens
speak
of such matters, that if they had bene set on the Racke, they would
never
have confessed them: besides his Poeticall describing the circumstances
of their meetings, as the well ordering of a banquet{7},
the delicacie of a walke{8}, with enterlacing
meere
Tales, as Gyges Ring{9} and others, which, who
knows
not to bee flowers of Poetrie, did never walke into Appollos Garden.
And
even Historiographers, although their lippes sound of things done, and
veritie be written in their foreheads, have bene glad to borrow both
fashion
and perchance weight of the Poets. So Herodotus entitled his Historie,
by the name of the nine Muses, and both he and all the rest that
followed
him, either stale{10}, or usurped of Poetrie,
their
passionate describing of passions, the many particularities of battels
which no man could affirme, or if that be denied me, long Orations put
in the mouths of great Kings and Captains, which it is certaine they
never
pronuonced. So that truly Philosopher, nor Historiographer, could at
the
first have entered into the gates of popular judgements, if they had
not
taken a great pasport of Poetrie, which in all nations at this day
where
learning flourisheth not, is plaine to be seene: in all which, they
have
some feeling of Poetry. In Turkey, besides their lawgiving devines,
they
have no other writers but Poets. In our neighbor Countrey Ireland,
where
truly learning goes verie bare, yet are their Poets held in a devout
reverence.
Even among the most barbarous and simple Indians, where no writing is,
yet they have their Poets who make & sing songs which they call
Arentos{11},
both of their Auncestors deeds, and praises of their Gods. A sufficient
probability, that if ever learning come among them, it must be by
having
their hard dull wittes softened and sharpened with the sweete delights
of Poetrie, for untill they finde a pleasure in the exercise of the
minde,
great promises of much knowledge, wil little persuade them that know
not
the frutes of knowledge. In VVales, the true remnant of the auncient
Brittons,
as there are good authorities to shew, the long time they had Poets
which
they called Bardes: so thorow all the conquests of Romans, Saxons,
Danes,
and Normans, some of whom, did seeke to ruine all memory of learning
from
among them, yet do their Poets even to this day last: so as it is not
more
notable in the soone beginning, then in long continuing. But since the
Authors of most of our Sciences, were the Romanes, and before them the
Greekes, let us a little stand upon their authorities, but even so
farre
as to see what names they have given unto this now scorned skill. Among
the Romanes a Poet was called Vates, which is as much as a diviner,
foreseer,
or Prophet, as by his conjoyned words Vaticinium, and Vaticinari{12},
is manifest, so heavenly a title did that excellent people bestowe
uppon
this hart- ravishing knowledge, and so farre were they carried into the
admiration thereof, that they thought in the chanceable hitting uppon
any
of such verses, great foretokens of their following fortunes, were
placed.
Whereupon grew the word of Sortes Vergilianae, when by suddaine opening
Virgils Booke, they lighted uppon some verse of his, as it is reported
by many, whereof the Histories of the Emperours lives are full. As of
Albinus
the Governour of our Iland, who in his childhood met with this verse
Arma
amens capio, nec sat rationis in armis{13}: and
in
his age performed it, although it were a verie vaine and godlesse
superstition,
as also it was, to think spirits were commaunded by such verses,
whereupon
this word Charmes derived of Carmina, commeth: so yet serveth it to
shew
the great reverence those wittes were held in, and altogither not
without
ground, since both by the Oracles of Delphos and Sybillas prophesies,
were
wholly delivered in verses, for that same exquisite observing of number
and measure in the words, and that high flying libertie of conceit
propper
to the Poet, did seeme to have some divine force in it. And may not I
presume
a little farther, to shewe the reasonablenesse of this word Vatis, and
say that the holy Davids Psalms are a divine Poeme? If I do, I shal not
do it without the testimony of great learned men both auncient and
moderne.
But even the name of Psalmes wil speak for me, which being interpreted,
is nothing but Songs: then that it is fully written in meeter as all
learned
Hebritians{14} agree, although the rules be not
yet
fully found. Lastly and principally, his handling his prophecie, which
is meerly Poeticall. For what else is the awaking his musical
Instruments,
the often and free chaunging of persons, his notable Prosopopeias{15},
when he maketh you as it were see God comming in his maijestie, his
telling
of the beasts joyfulnesse, and hils leaping, but a heavenly poesie,
wherein
almost he sheweth himselfe a passionate lover of that unspeakable and
everlasting
bewtie, to be seene by the eyes of the mind, onely cleared by faith?
But
truly now having named him, I feare I seeme to prophane that holy name,
applying it to Poetry, which is among us throwne downe to so ridiculous
an estimation. But they that with quiet Judgements wil looke a little
deeper
into it, shal find the end & working of it such, as being rightly
applied,
deserveth not to be scourged out of the Church of God. But now let us
see
how the Greekes have named it, and how they have deemed of it. The
Greekes
named him poieten{16}, which name, hath as the
most
excellent, gone through other languages, it commeth of this word poiein
which is to make: wherein I know not whether by luck or wisedome, we
Englishmen
have met with the Greekes in calling him a Maker. Which name, how high
and incomparable a title it is, I had rather were knowne by marking the
scope of other sciences, then by any partial allegation. There
is no Art{17} delivered unto mankind that hath
not
the workes of nature for his principall object, without which they
could
not consist, and on which they so depend, as they become Actors &
Plaiers,
as it were of what nature will have set forth. So doth the Astronomer
looke
upon the starres, and by that he seeth set downe what order nature hath
taken therein. So doth the Geometritian & Arithmetitian, in their
divers
sorts of quantities. So doth the Musitians intimes tel you, which by
nature
agree, which not. The natural Philosopher thereon hath his name, and
the
morall Philosopher standeth uppon the naturall vertues, vices, or
passions
of man: and follow nature saith he therein, and thou shalt not erre.
The
Lawier saith, what men have determined. The Historian, what men have
done.
The Gramarian, speaketh onely of the rules of speech, and the
Rhetoritian
and Logitian, considering what in nature wil soonest proove, and
perswade
thereon, give artificiall rules, which still are compassed within the
circle
of a question, according to the proposed matter. The Phisitian wayeth
the
nature of mans bodie, & the nature of things helpfull, or hurtfull
unto it. And the Metaphisicke though it be in the second & abstract
Notions, and therefore be counted supernaturall, yet doth hee indeed
build
upon the depth of nature. Only the Poet disdeining to be tied to any
such
subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow in
effect into another nature: in making things either better then nature
bringeth foorth, or quite a new, formes such as never were in nature:
as
the Heroes, Demigods, Cyclops, Chymeras, Furies, and such like; so as
he
goeth hand in hand with nature, not enclosed within the narrow warrant
of her gifts, but freely raunging within the Zodiack of his owne wit.
Nature
never set foorth the earth in so rich Tapistry as diverse Poets have
done,
neither with so pleasaunt rivers, fruitfull trees, sweete smelling
flowers,
nor whatsoever els may make the too much loved earth more lovely: her
world
is brasen, the Poets only deliver a golden. But let those things alone
and goe to man, for whom as the other things are, so it seemeth in him
her uttermost comming is imploied: & know whether she have brought
foorth so true a lover as Theagenes{18}, so
constant
a friend as Pylades{19}, so valiant a man as
Orlando{20},
so right a Prince as Xenophons Cyrus{21}, so
excellent
a man every way as Virgils Aeneas{22}. Neither
let
this be jestingly conceived, bicause the works of the one be
essenciall,
the other in imitation or fiction: for everie understanding, knoweth
the
skill of ech Artificer standeth in that Idea, or fore conceit of the
worke,
and not in the worke it selfe. And that the Poet hath that Idea, is
manifest,
by delivering them foorth in such excellencie as he had imagined them:
which delivering foorth, also is not wholly imaginative, as we are wont
to say by them that build Castles in the aire: but so farre
substancially
it worketh, not onely to make a Cyrus,
which
had bene but a particular excellency as nature might have done, but to
bestow a Cyrus upon the world to make many Cyrusses, if they will
learne
aright, why and how that maker made him. Neither let it be deemed too
sawcy
a comparison, to ballance the highest point of mans wit, with the
efficacie
of nature: but rather give right honor to the heavenly maker of that
maker,
who having made man to his owne likenes, set him beyond and over all
the
workes of that second nature, which in nothing he sheweth so much as in
Poetry; when with the force of a divine breath, he bringeth things
foorth
surpassing her doings: with no small arguments to the incredulous of
that
first accursed fall of Adam, since our erected wit maketh us know what
perfection is, and yet our infected wil keepeth us from reaching unto it{23}.
But these arguments will by few be understood, and by fewer graunted:
thus
much I hope will be given me, that the Greeks with some probability of
reason, gave him the name above all names of learning. Now let us go to
a more ordinary opening of him, that the truth may be the more
palpable:
and so I hope though we get not so unmatched a praise as the Etimologie
of his names will graunt, yet his verie description which no man will
denie,
shall not justly be barred from a principall commendation. Poesie
therefore,
is an Art of Imitation: for so Aristotle termeth it in the word mimesis{24},
that is to say, a representing, counterfeiting, or figuring forth to
speake
Metaphorically. A speaking Picture, with this end to teach and delight{25}.
Of this have bene three generall kindes, the chiefe both in antiquitie
and excellencie, were they that did imitate the unconceivable
excellencies
of God. Such were David in his Psalmes, Salomon in his song of songs,
in
his Ecclesiastes and Proverbes. Moses and Debora, in their Hymnes, and
the wryter of Jobe: Which beside other, the learned Emanuell,
Tremelius,
and F. Junius{26}, doo entitle the Poeticall
part of
the scripture: against these none will speake that hath the holie Ghost
in due holie reverence. In this kinde, though in a full wrong
divinitie,
were Orpheus, Amphion, Homer in his himnes, and manie other both Greeke
and Romanes. And this Poesie must be used by whosoever will follow S.
Paules{27}
counsaile, in singing Psalmes when they are mery, and I knowe is used
with
the frute of comfort by some, when in sorrowfull panges of their death
bringing sinnes, they finde the consolation of the never leaving
goodnes.
The second kinde, is of them that deale with matters Philosophicall,
either
morall as Tirteus, Phocilides, Cato; or naturall, as Lucretius, and
Virgils
Georgikes; or Astronomicall as Manilius and Pontanus; or Historicall as
Lucan{28}: which who mislike the fault, is in
their
judgement quite out of tast, & not in the sweet food of sweetly
uttered
knowledge. But bicause this second sort is wrapped within the fold of
the
proposed subject, and takes not the free course of his own invention,
whether
they properly bee Poets or no, let Gramarians dispute, and goe to the
third
indeed right Poets, of whom chiefly this question ariseth: betwixt whom
and these second, is such a kinde of difference, as betwixt the meaner
sort of Painters, who counterfeyt onely such faces as are set before
them,
and the more excelent, who having no law but wit, bestow that in
colours
upon you, which is fittest for the eye to see, as the constant, though
lamenting looke of Lucretia, when she punished in her selfe another
faulte:
wherein hee painteth not Lucretia whom he never saw, but painteth the
outward
bewty of such a vertue. For these third be they which most properly do
imitate to teach & delight: and to imitate, borrow nothing of what
is, hath bin, or shall be, but range onely reined with learned
discretion,
into the divine consideration of what may be and should be. These be
they
that as the first and most noble sort, may justly be termed Vates: so
these
are waited on in the excellentest languages and best understandings,
with
the fore described name of Poets. For these indeed do meerly make to
imitate,
and imitate both to delight & teach, and delight to move men to
take
that goodnesse in hand, which without delight they would flie as from a
stranger; and teach to make them know that goodnesse whereunto they are
moved: which being the noblest scope to which ever any learning was
directed,
yet want there not idle tongues to bark at them. These be subdivided
into
sundry more special denominations. The most notable be the Heroick,
Lyrick,
Tragick, Comick, Satyrick, Iambick, Elegiack, Pastorall, and certaine
others:
some of these being tearmed according to the matter they deale with,
some
by the sort of verse they liked best to write in, for indeed the
greatest
part of Poets, have apparelled their poeticall inventions, in that
numbrous
kind of writing which is called vers. Indeed but apparelled verse:
being
but an ornament and no cause to Poetrie, since there have bene many
most
excellent Poets that never versified, and now swarme many versifiers
that
need never answere to the name of Poets. For Xenophon who did imitate
so
excellently as to give us effigiem justi imperii, the pourtraiture of a
just Empyre under the name of Cyrus, as Cicero saith of him, made
therein
an absolute heroicall Poeme. So did Heliodorus, in his sugred invention
of that picture of love in Theagenes & Chariclea{29},
and yet both these wrote in prose, which I speake to shew, that it is
not
ryming and versing that maketh a Poet, (no more than a long gown maketh
an Advocate, who though he pleaded in Armour, should be an Advocat and
no souldier) but it is that faining notable images of vertues, vices,
or
what els, with that delightfull teaching, which must be the right
describing
note to know a Poet by. Although indeed the Senate of Poets hath chosen
verse as their fittest raiment: meaning as in matter, they passed all
in
all, so in manner, to go beyond them: not speaking table talke fashion,
or like men in a dreame, words as they chanceably fall from the mouth,
but peasing each sillable of eache word by just proportion, according
to
the dignitie of the suject. Now therfore it shal not be amisse, first
to
way this latter sort of poetrie by his workes, and then by his parts,
and
if in neither of these Anatomies hee be condemnable, I hope we shall
obteine
a more favourable sentence. This purifying of wit, this enriching of
memorie,
enabling of judgement, and enlarging of conceit, which commonly we cal
learning, under what name so ever it come forth, or to what immediate
end
soever it be directed, the finall end is, to lead and draw us to as
high
a perfection, as our degenerate soules made worse by their
clay-lodgings,
can be capable of. This according to the inclination of man, bred many
formed impressions. For some that thought this felicity principally to
be gotten by knowledge, and no knowledge to be so high or heavenly, as
acquaintance with the stars; gave themselves to Astronomie: others
perswading
themselves to be Demygods, if they knew the causes of things, became
naturall
and supernaturall Philosophers. Some an admirable delight drew to
Musicke;
and some the certaintie of demonstration to the Mathematicks: but all
one
and other having scope to know, & by knowledge to lift up the minde
from the dungeon of the bodie, to the enjoying his owne divine essence.
But when by the ballance of experience it was found that the Astronomer
looking to the stars might fall in a ditch, that the inquiring
Philosopher
might be blind in him self, & the Mathematician, might draw forth a
straight line with a crooked hart. Then lo did proofe, the overruler of
opinions make manifest, that all these are but serving sciences; which
as they have [each] a private end in themselves, so yet are they all
directed
to the highest end of the mistresse knowledge by the Greeks [called]
architectonike{30},
which stands as I thinke, in the knowledge of a mans selfe, in the
Ethike
and Politique consideration, with the end of well doing, and not of
well
knowing onely. Even as the Sadlers next ende is to make a good Saddle,
but his further ende, to serve a nobler facultie, which is horsmanship,
so the horsemans to souldiery: and the souldier not only to have the
skill,
but to performe the practise of a souldier. So that the ending end of
all
earthly learning, being verteous action, those skils that most serve to
bring forth that, have a most just title to be Princes over al the
rest:
wherein if we can shew, the Poet is worthy to have it before any other
competitors: among whom principally to challenge it, step forth the
moral
Philosophers, whom me thinkes I see comming towards me, with a sullen
gravitie,
as though they could not abide vice by day-light, rudely cloathed for
to
witness outwardly their contempt of outward things, with books in their
hands against glorie, whereto they set their names: sophistically
speaking
against subtiltie, and angry with any man in whom they see the foule
fault
of anger. These men casting larges as they go of definitions, divitions
and distinctions, with a scornful interrogative, do soberly aske,
whether
it be possible to find any path so ready to lead a man to vertue, as
that
which teacheth what vertue is, & teacheth it not only by delivering
forth his very being, his causes and effects, but also by making knowne
his enemie vice, which must be destroyed, and his cumbersome servant
passion,
which must be mastred: by shewing the generalities that contains it,
and
the specialties that are derived from it. Lastly by plaine setting
downe,
how it extends it selfe out of the limits of a mans owne little world,
to the government of families, and mainteining of publike societies.
The
Historian scarcely gives leisure to the Moralist to say so much, but
that
he loaden with old Mouse-eaten Records, authorising himselfe for the
most
part upon other Histories, whose greatest authorities are built uppon
the
notable foundation Heresay, having much ado to accord differing
writers,
& to pick truth out of partiality: better acquainted with a 1000.
yeres
ago, then with the present age, and yet better knowing how this world
goes,
then how his owne wit runnes, curious for Antiquities, and inquisitive
of Novelties, a wonder to yoong folkes, and a Tyrant in table talke;
denieth
in a great chafe, that any man for teaching of vertue, and vertues
actions,
is comparable to him. I am Testis temporum, lux veritatis, vita
memoriae,
magistra vitae, nuncia vetustatis{31}. The
Philosopher
saith he, teacheth a disputative vertue, but I do an active. His vertue
is excellent in the dangerlesse Academy of Plato: but mine sheweth
forth
her honourable face in the battailes of Marathon, Pharsalia, Poietiers,
and Agincourt. Hee teacheth vertue by certaine abstract considerations:
but I onely follow the footing of them that have gone before you. Old
aged
experience, goeth beyond the fine witted Philosopher: but I give the
experience
of many ages. Lastly, if he make the song Booke, I put the learners
hand
to the Lute, and if he be the guide, I am the light. Then he would
alleage
you innumerable examples, confirming storie by stories, how much the
wisest
Senators and Princes, have bene directed by the credit of Historie, as
Brutus, Alphonsus of Aragon, (and who not if need be.) At length, the
long
line of their disputation makes a point in this, that the one giveth
the
precept, & the other the example. Now whom shall we find, since the
question standeth for the highest forme in the schoole of learning to
be
moderator? Truly as mee seemeth, the Poet, and if not a moderator, even
the man that ought to carry the title from them both: & much more
from
all the other serving sciences. Therfore compare we the Poet with the
Historian,
& with the morall Philosopher: and if hee goe beyond them both, no
other humaine skill can match him. For as for the divine, with all
reverence
it is ever to be excepted, not onely for having his scope as far beyond
any of these, as Eternitie exceedeth a moment: but even for passing ech
of these in themselves. And for the Lawier, though Jus be the daughter
of Justice, the chiefe of vertues, yet because he seeks to make men
good,
rather formidine poenae{32}, then virtutis amore{33}:
or to say righter, doth not endevor to make men good, but that their
evill
hurt not others, having no care so he be a good citizen, how bad a man
he might be. Therefore, as our wickednes maketh him necessarie, and
necessitie
maketh him honorable, so he is not in the deepest truth to stand in
ranck
with these, who al endevour to take naughtinesse away, and plant
goodnesse
even in the secretest cabinet of our soules: and these foure are all
that
any way deale in the consideration of mens manners, which being the
supreme
knowledge, they that best breed it, deserve the best commendation. The
Philosopher therefore, and the Historian, are they which would win the
goale, the one by precept, the other by example: but both, not having
both,
doo both halt. For the Philosopher setting downe with thornie
arguments,
the bare rule, is so hard of utterance, and so mistie to be conceived,
that one that hath no other guide but him, shall wade in him till he be
old, before he shall finde suffiecient cause to be honest. For his
knowledge
standeth so upon the abstract and generall, that happie is that man who
may understand him, and more happie, that can apply what he doth
understand.
On the other side, the Historian wanting the precept, is so tied, not
to
what should be, but to what is, to the particular truth of things, that
his example draweth no necessary consequence, and therefore a lesse
fruitfull
doctrine. Now doth the peerlesse Poet
performe
both, for whatsoever the Philosopher saith should be done, he gives a
perfect
picture of it by some one, by whom he presupposeth it was done, so as
he
coupleth the generall notion with the particuler example. A perfect
picture
I say, for hee yeeldeth to the powers of the minde an image of that
whereof
the Philosopher bestoweth but a wordish description, which doth neither
strike, pearce, nor possesse, the sight of the soule so much, as that
other
doth. For as in outward things to a man that had never seene an
Elephant,
or a Rinoceros, who should tell him most exquisitely all their shape,
cullour,
bignesse, and particuler marks, or of a gorgious pallace an
Architecture,
who declaring the full bewties, might well make the hearer able to
repeat
as it were by roat all he had heard, yet should never satisfie his
inward
conceit, with being witnesse to it selfe of a true lively knowledge:
but
the same man, assoon as he might see those beasts wel painted, or that
house wel in modell, shuld straightwaies grow without need of any
description
to a judicial comprehending of them, so no doubt the Philosopher with
his
learned definitions, be it of vertues or vices, matters of publike
policy
or privat government, replenisheth the memory with many infallible
grounds
of wisdom, which notwithstanding lie darke before the imaginative and
judging
power, if they be not illuminated or figured forth by the speaking
picture
of Poesie. Tully taketh much paines, and many times not without
Poeticall
helpes to make us know the force, love of our country hath in us. Let
us
but hear old Anchices{34}, speaking in the
middest
of Troies flames, or see Ulisses in the fulnesse of all Calipsoes
delightes,
bewaile his absence from barraine and beggarly Itheca{35}.
Anger the Stoickes said, was a short madnesse{36}:
let but Sophocles bring you Ajax on a stage, killing or whipping sheepe
and oxen, thinking them the Army of Greekes, with their Chieftaines
Agamemnon,
and Menelaus: and tell me if you have not a more familiar insight into
Anger, then finding in the schoolemen his Genus and Difference. See
whether
wisdom and temperance in Ulisses and Diomedes, valure in Achilles,
friendship
in Nisus and Eurialus{37}, even to an ignorant
man
carry not an apparant shining: and contrarily, the remorse of
conscience
in Oedipus; the soone repenting pride in Agamemnon; the selfe devouring
crueltie in his father Atreus; the violence of ambition, in the two
Theban
brothers; the sower sweetnesse of revenge in Medea; and to fall lower,
the Terentian Gnato{38}, and our Chawcers Pander{39}
so exprest, that we now use their names, to signify their Trades: And
finally,
all vertues, vices, and passions, so in their owne naturall states,
laide
to the view, that we seeme not to heare of them, but clearly to see
through
them. But even in the most excellent determination of goodnesse, what
Philosophers
counsaile can so readely direct a Prince, as the feined Cirus in
Xenophon,
or a vertuous man in all fortunes: as Aeneas in Virgill, or a whole
Common-wealth,
as the Way of Sir Thomas Moore's Eutopia. I say the Way, because where
Sir Thomas Moore erred, it was the fault of the man and not of the
Poet:
for that Way of patterning a Common-wealth, was most absolute though
hee
perchaunce hath not so absolutely performed it. For the question is,
whether
the fashioned Image of Poetrie, or the regular instruction of
Philosophie,
hath the more force in teaching? Wherein if the Philosophers have more
rightly shewed themselves Philosophers then the Poets, have attained to
the high toppe of their profession (as in truth Mediocribus esse poetis
non Dii, non homines, non concessere columnae{40},)
it is (I say againe) not the fault of the Art, but that by fewe men
that
Art can be accomplished. Certainly even our Saviour Christ could as
well
have given the morall common places of uncharitablenesse and
humblenesse,
as the divine narration of Dives and Lazarus{41},
or
of disobedience and mercy, as the heavenly discourse of the lost childe
and the gracious Father{42}, but that his
through searching
wisedom, knew the estate of Dives burning in hell, and Lazarus in
Abrahams
bosome, would more constantly, as it were, inhabit both the memorie and
judgement. Truly for my selfe (mee seemes) I see before mine eyes, the
lost childs disdainful prodigalitie, turned to envy a Swines dinner:
which
by the learned Divines are thought not to be Historical acts, but
instructing
Parables. For conclusion, I say the Philosopher teacheth, but he
teacheth
obscurely, so as the learned onely can understand him, that is to say,
he teacheth them that are alreadie taught. But the Poet is the food for
the tenderest stomacks, the Poet is indeed, the right populer
Philosopher.
Whereof Esops Tales give good proofe, whose prettie Allegories stealing
under the formall Tales of beastes, makes many more beastly than
beasts:
begin to hear the sound of vertue from those dumbe speakers. But now it
may be alleadged, that if this imagining of matters be so fit for the
imagination,
then must the Historian needs surpasse, who brings you images of true
matters,
such as indeed were done, and not such as fantastically or falsely may
be suggested to have bin done. Truly Aristotle himselfe in his
discourse
of Poesie{43}, plainly determineth this
question, saying,
that Poetrie is philosophoteron and spuodaioteron, that is to say, it
is
more Philosophicall and more [studiously serious]{44}
then History. His reason is, because Poesie dealeth with katholou, that
is to say, with the universall consideration, and the Historie with
kathekaston,
the particular. Now saith he, the universall wayes what is fit to be
said
or done, either in likelihood or necessitie, which the Poesie
considereth
in his imposed names: and the particular onely maketh whether
Alcibiades
did or suffered this or that. Thus farre Aristotle. Which reason of
his,
as all his is most full of reason. For indeed if the question were,
whether
it were better to have a particular act truly or faithfully set downe,
there is no doubt which is to be chosen, no more than whether you had
rather
have Vespacians Picture right as he was, or at the Painters pleasure
nothing
resembling. But if the question be for your owne use and learning,
whether
it be better to have it set downe as it should be, or as it was; then
certainly
is more doctrinable, the fained Cyrus in Xenophon, then the true Cyrus
in Justin{45}: and the fained Aeneas in
Virgill, then
the right Aeneas in Dares Phrigius{46}: as to a
Ladie
that desired to fashion her countenance to the best grace: a Painter
shuld
more benefite her to pourtrait a most sweete face, writing Canidia
uppon
it, then to paint Canidia as shee was, who Horace sweareth was full ill
favoured{47}. If the Poet do his part aright,
he will
shew you in Tantalus Atreus{48}, and such like,
nothing
that is not to be shunned; in Cyrus, Aeneas, Ulisses, each thing to be
followed: where the Historian bound to tell things as things were,
cannot
be liberall, without hee will be Poeticall of a perfect patterne, but
as
Alexander or Scipio himselfe, shew things, some to be liked, some to be
misliked, and then how will you discerne what to follow, but by your
own
discretion which you had without reading Q. Curtius{49}.
And whereas a man may say, though in universall consideration of
doctrine,
the Poet prevaileth, yet that the Historie in his saying such a thing
was
done, doth warrant a man more in that he shall follow. The answere is
manifest,
that if he stand upon that was, as if he should argue, because it
rained
yesterday, therefore it should raine to day, then indeede hath it some
advantage to a gross conceit. But if hee knowe an example onely
enformes
a conjectured likelihood, and so goe by reason, the Poet doth so farre
exceed him, as hee is to frame his example to that which is most
reasonable,
be it in warlike, politike, or private matters, where the Historian in
his bare, was, hath many times that which we call fortune, to overrule
the best wisedome. Manie times he must tell events, whereof he can
yield
no cause, or if he do, it must be poetically. For that a fained example
(for as for to moove, it is cleare, since the fained may be tuned to
the
highest key of passion) let us take one example wherein an Historian
and
a Poet did concurre. Herodotus and Justin doth both testifie, that
Zopirus,
King Darius faithfull servant, seeing his maister long resisted by the
rebellious Babilonians, fained himselfe in extreame disgrace of his
King,
for verifying of which, he caused his owne nose and eares to be cut
off,
and so flying to the Babylonians was received, and for his knowne
valure
so farre creadited, that hee did finde meanes to deliver them over to
Darius{50}.
Much like matter doth Livy record of Tarquinius, and his sonne{51}.
Xenophon excellently faineth such another Strategeme, performed by
Abradates
in Cyrus behalfe{52}. Now would I faine knowe,
if occasion
be presented unto you, to serve your Prince by such an honest
dissimulation,
why you do not as well learne it of Xenophons fiction, as of the others
veritie: and truly so much the better, as you shall save your nose by
the
bargaine. For Abradates did not counterfeyt so farre. So then the best
of the Historian is subject to the Poet, for whatsoever action or
faction,
whatsoever counsaile, pollicie, or warre, strategeme, the Historian is
bound to recite, that may the Poet if hee list with his imitation make
his owne; bewtifying it both for further teaching, and more delighting
as it please him: having all from Dante his heven to his hell, under
the
authority of his pen. Which if I be asked what Poets have done so? as I
might well name some, so yet say I, and say again, I speake of the Art
and not of the Artificer. Now to that which commonly is attributed to
the
praise of Historie, in respect of the notable learning, is got by
marking
the successe, as though therein a man shuld see vertue exalted, &
vice
punished: truly that commendation is peculiar to Poetrie, and farre off
from Historie: for indeed Poetrie ever sets vertue so out in her best
cullours,
making fortune her well-wayting handmayd, that one must needs be
enamoured
of her. Well may you see Ulisses in a storme and in other hard plights,
but they are but exercises of patience & magnanimitie, to make them
shine the more in the neare following prosperitie. And of the contrary
part, if evill men come to the stage, they ever goe out (as the
Tragedie
writer answered to one that misliked the shew of such persons) so
manicled
as they litle animate folkes to follow them. But the Historie being
captived
to the trueth of a foolish world, is many times a terror from
well-doing,
and an encouragement to unbrideled wickednes. For see we not valiant
Milciades{53}
rot in his fetters? The just Phocion{54} and
the accomplished
Socrates{55}, put to death like Traytors? The
cruell
Severus{56}, live prosperously? The excellent
Severus{57}
miserably murthered? Sylla and Marius dying in their beds{58}?
Pompey and Cicero slain then when they wold have thought exile a
happinesse{59}?
See we not vertous Cato{60} driven to kill
himselfe,
and Rebell Caesar so advanced, that his name yet after 1600. yeares
lasteth
in the highest honor? And marke but even Caesars owne words of the
forenamed
Sylla, (who in that onely, did honestly to put downe his dishonest
Tyrannie)
Litteras nescivet{61}: as if want of learning
caused
him to doo well. He ment it not by Poetrie, which not content with
earthly
plagues, deviseth new punishments in hell for Tyrants: nor yet by
Philosophy,
which teacheth Occidentos esse{62}, but no
doubt by
skill in Historie, for that indeed can affoord you Cipselus, Periander,
Phalaris, Dionisius{63}, and I know not how
many more
of the same kennel, that speed well inough in their abhominable
injustice
of usurpation. I conclude therefore that he excelleth historie, not
onely
in furnishing the minde with knowledge, but in setting it forward to
that
which deserves to be called and accounted good: which setting forward
and
moving to well doing, indeed setteth the Lawrell Crowne upon the Poets
as victorious, not onely of the Historian, but over the Philosopher,
howsoever
in teaching it may be questionable. For suppose it be granted, that
which
I suppose with great reason may be denied, that the Philosopher in
respect
of his methodical proceeding, teach more perfectly then the poet, yet
do
I thinke, that no man is so much philophilosophos{64}
as to compare the philosopher in mooving with the Poet. And that
mooving
is of a higher degree than teaching, it may by this appeare, that it is
well nigh both the cause and effect of teaching. For who will be
taught,
if he be not mooved with desire to be taught? And what so much good
doth
that teaching bring foorth, (I speake still of morall doctrine) as that
it mooveth one to do that which it doth teach. For as Aristotle saith,
it is not gnosis but praxis{65} must be the
frute:
and how praxis can be without being moved to practice, it is no hard
matter
to consider. The Philosopher sheweth you the way, hee enformeth you of
the particularities, as well of the tediousnes of the way, as of the
pleasaunt
lodging you shall have when your journey is ended, as of the many by
turnings
that may divert you from your way. But this is to no man but to him
that
will reade him, and reade him with attentive studious painfulnesse,
which
constant desire, whosoever hath in him, hath alreadie past halfe the
hardnesse
of the way: and therefore is beholding to the Philosopher, but for the
other halfe. Nay truly learned men have learnedly thought, that where
once
reason hath so much over-mastered passion, as that the minde hath a
free
desire to doo well, the inward light each minde hath in it selfe, is as
good as a Philosophers booke, since in Nature we know it is well, to
doo
well, and what is well, and what is evill, although not in the wordes
of
Art which Philosophers bestow uppon us: for out of naturall conceit the
Philosophers drew it; but to be moved to doo that which wee know, or to
be mooved with desire to know. Hoc opus, hic labor est{66}.
Now therein of all Sciences I speake still of humane (and according to
the humane conceit) is our Poet the Monarch. For hee doth not onely
shew
the way, but giveth so sweete a prospect into the way, as will entice
anie
man to enter into it: Nay he doth as if your journey should lye through
a faire vineyard, at the verie first, give you a cluster of grapes,
that
full of the taste, you may long to passe further. Hee beginneth not
with
obscure definitions, which must blurre the margent with
interpretations,
and loade the memorie with doubtfulnesse: but hee commeth to you with
words
set in delightfull proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for
the well enchanting skill of musicke, and with a tale forsooth he
commeth
unto you, with a tale, which holdeth children from play, and olde men
from
the Chimney corner; and pretending no more, doth intend the winning of
the minde from wickednes to vertue; even as the child is often brought
to take most wholesome things by hiding them in such other as have a
pleasaunt
taste: which if one should begin to tell them the nature of the Alloes
or Rhabarbarum they should receive, wold sooner take their physic at
their
eares then at their mouth, so it is in men (most of which, are childish
in the best things, til they be cradled in their graves) glad they will
be to heare the tales of Hercules, Achilles, Cyrus, Aeneas, and hearing
them, must needes heare the right description of wisdom, value, and
justice;
which if they had bene barely (that is to say Philosophically) set out,
they would sweare they be brought to schoole againe; that imitation
whereof
Poetrie is, hath the most conveniencie to nature of al other: insomuch
that as Aristotle saith, those things which in themselves are horrible,
as cruel battailes, unnatural monsters, are made in poeticall
imitation,
delightfull{67}. Truly I have known men, that
even
with reading Amadis de gaule{68}, which God
knoweth,
wanteth much of a perfect Poesie, have found their hearts moved to the
exercise of courtesie, liberalitie, and especially courage. Who readeth
Aeneas carrying old Anchises on his backe{69},
that
wisheth not it were his fortune to performe so excellent an Act? Whom
doth
not those words of Turnus moove, (the Tale of Turnus having planted his
image in the imagination) fugientam haec terra videbit? Usqueadeone
mori
miserum est{70}? Wher the Philosophers as they
think
scorne to delight, so must they be content little to moove; saving
wrangling
whether Virtus be the chiefe or the onely good; whether the
contemplative
or the active life do excell; which Plato and Poetius{71}
well knew: and therefore made mistresse Philosophie very often borrow
the
masking raiment of Poesie. For even those hard hearted evill men who
thinke
vertue a schoole name, and know no other good but indulgere genio{72},
and therefore despise the austere admonitions of the Philosopher, and
feele
not the inward reason they stand upon, yet will be content to be
delighted,
which is all the good, fellow Poet seemes to promise; and so steale to
see the form of goodnes, (which seene, they cannot but love) ere
themseves
be aware, as if they tooke a medicine of Cheries. Infinit proofes of
the
straunge effects of this Poeticall invention, might be alleaged: onely
two shall serve, which are so often remembered, as I thinke all men
know
them. The oone of Menemus Agrippa{73}, who when
the
whole people of Rome had resolutely divided themselves from the Senate,
with apparent shew of utter ruine, though he were for that time an
excellent
Orator, came not among them upon trust either of figurative speeches,
or
cunning insinuations, and much lesse with farre set Maximes of
Philosophie,
which especially if they were Platonike, they must have learned
Geometrie
before they could well have conceived: but forsooth, he behaveth
himselfe
like a homely and familiar Poet. He telleth them a tale, that there was
a time, when all the parts of the bodie made a mutinous conspiracie
against
the belly, which they thought devoured the frutes of each others
labour:
they concluded that they would let so unprofitable a spender starve. In
the end, to be short, for the tale is notorious, and as notorious that
it was a tale, with punishing the belly they plagued themselves; this
applied
by him, wrought such effect in the people, as I never red, that onely
words
brought foorth: but then so sudden and so good an alteration, for upon
reasonable conditions, a perfect reconcilement ensued. The other is of
Nathan the Prophet{74}, who when the holy
David, had
so farre forsaken God, as to confirme Adulterie with murther, when he
was
to do the tendrest office of a friend, in laying his owne shame before
his eyes; sent by God to call againe so chosen a servant, how doth he
it?
but by telling of a man whose beloved lambe was ungratefully taken from
his bosome. The Application most divinely true, but the discourse it
selfe
fained; which made David (I speake of the second and instrumentall
cause)
as in a glasse see his owne filthinesse as that heavenly Psalme of
mercie{75}
well testifieth. By these therefore examples and reasons, I thinke it
may
be manifest, that the Poet with that same hand of delight, doth draw
the
mind more effectually then any other Art doth. And so a conclusion not
unfitly ensue, that as vertue is the most excellent resting place for
al
worldly learning to make his end of, so Poetry being the most familiar
to teach it, and most Princely to move towards it, in the most
excellent
worke, is the most excellent workeman. But I am content not onely to
decipher
him by his workes (although workes in commendation and dispraise, must
ever hold a high authoritie) but more narrowly will examine his parts,
so that (as in a man) though altogither may carrie a presence full of
majestie
and bewtie, perchance in some one defectuous peece we may finde
blemish:
Now in his parts, kindes, or species, as you list to tearme them, it is
to be noted that some Poesies have coupled togither two or three
kindes,
as the Tragicall and Comicall, whereupon is risen the Tragicomicall,
some
in the manner have mingled prose and verse, as Sanazara{76}
and Boetius{77}; some have mingled matters
Heroicall
and Pastorall, but that commeth all to one in this question, for if
severed
they be good, the conjunction cannot be hurtfull: therefore perchance
forgetting
some, and leaving some as needlesse to be remembered. It shall not be
amisse,
in a word to cite the speciall kindes, to see what faults may be found
in the right use of them. Is it then the Pastorall Poeme which is
misliked?
(For perchance where the hedge is lowest they will soonest leape over)
is the poore pipe disdained, which sometimes out of Moelibeus{78}
mouth, can shewe the miserie of people, under hard Lords and ravening
souldiers?
And again by Titerus, what blessednesse is derived, to them that lie
lowest,
from the goodnesse of them that sit highest? Sometimes under the
prettie
tales of Woolves and sheepe, can enclude the whole considerations of
wrong
doing and patience; sometimes shew that contentions for trifles, can
get
but a trifling victory, wher perchance a man may see, that even
Alexander
& Darius, when they strave who should be Cocke of this worldes
dunghill,
the benefit they got, was, that the afterlivers may say, Haec memini
&
victum frustra contendere Thirsim. Ex illo Coridon, Coridon est tempore
nobis{79}. Or is it the lamenting Elegiack,
which in
a kinde heart would moove rather pittie then blame, who bewaileth with
the great Philosopher Heraclitus; the weaknesse of mankinde, and the
wretchednesse
of the world: who surely is to bee praised either for compassionate
accompanying
just causes of lamentations, or for rightlie painting out how weake be
the passions of woefulnesse? Is it the bitter but wholesome Iambick{80},
who rubbes the galled minde, in making shame the Trumpet of villanie,
with
bolde and open crying out against naughtinesse? Or the Satirick, who
Omne
vafer vitium ridenti tangit amico{81}, who
sportingly,
never leaveth, till he make a man laugh at follie; and at length
ashamed,
to laugh at himself; which he cannot avoyde, without avoyding the
follie?
who while Circum praecordia ludit{82}, giveth
us to
feele how many headaches a passionate life bringeth us to? How when all
is done, Est Ulubris animus si nos non deficit aequus{83}.
No perchance it is the Comick, whom naughtie Play-makers and
stage-keepers,
have justly made odious. To the arguments of abuse, I will after
answer,
onely thus much now is to be said, that the Comedy is an imitation of
the
common errors of our life, which he representeth in the most ridiculous
& scornfull sort that may be: so as it is impossible that any
beholder
can be content to be such a one. Now as in Geometrie, the oblique must
be knowne as well as the right, and in Arithmetick, the odde as well as
the even, so in the actions of our life, who seeth not the filthinesse
of evill, wanteth a great foile to perceive the bewtie of vertue. This
doth the Comaedie handle so in our private and domesticall matters, as
with hearing it, wee get as it were an experience what is to be looked
for of a niggardly Demea, of a crafty Davus, of a flattering Gnato, of
a vain- glorious Thraso{84} and not onely to
know what
effects are to be expected, but to know who be such, by the signifying
badge given them by the Comaedient. And little reason hath any man to
say,
that men learne the evill by seeing it so set out, since as I said
before,
there is no man living, but by the force truth hath in nature, no
sooner
seeth these men play their parts, but wisheth them in Pistrinum{85},
athough perchance the lack of his owne faults lie so behinde his backe,
that he seeth not himselfe to dance the same measure: whereto yet
nothing
can more open his eies, then to see his owne actions contemptibly set
forth.
So that the right use of Comaedie, will I thinke, by no bodie be
blamed;
and much lesse of the high and excellent Tragedie, that openeth the
greatest
woundes, and sheweth forth the Ulcers that are covered with Tissue,
that
maketh Kings feare to be Tyrants, and Tyrants manifest their
tyrannicall
humours, that with stirring the affects of Admiration and Comiseration,
teacheth the uncertaintie of this world, and uppon how weak foundations
guilden roofes are builded: that maketh us know, Qui sceptra Saevus
duro
imperio regit, Timet timentes, metus in authorem redit{86}.
But how much it can move, Plutarch yeeldeth a notable testimonie of the
abhominable Tyrant Alexander Pheraeus{87}, from
whose
eyes a Tragedie well made and represented, drew abundance of teares,
who
without all pittie had murthered infinite numbers, and some of his owne
bloud: so as he that was not ashamed to make matters for Tragedies, yet
could not resist the sweete violence of a Tragedie. And if it wrought
no
further good in him, it was, that in despight of himself, withdrew
himselfe
form hearkening to that which might mollifie his hard heart. But it is
not the Tragedie they doe mislike, for it were too absurd to cast out
so
excellent a representation of whatsoever is most woorthie to be
learned.
Is it the Lyricke that most displeaseth, who with his tuned Lyre and
well
accorded voice, giveth praise, the reward of vertue, to vertuous acts?
who giveth morall preceptes and naturall Problemes, who sometimes
raiseth
up his voyce to the height of the heavens, in singing the laudes of the
immortall God? Certainly I must confesse mine owne barbarousnesse, I
never
heard the old Song of Percy and Duglas{88},
that I
founde not my heart mooved more than with a Trumpet; and yet is it sung
but by some blinde Crowder{89}, with no rougher
voyce,
then rude stile: which being so evill apparelled in the dust and
Cobwebbes
of that uncivill age, what would it worke, trimmed in the gorgeous
eloquence
of Pindar? In Hungarie I have seene it the manner at all Feastes and
other
such like meetings, to have songs of their ancestors valure, which that
right souldierlike nation, think one of the chiefest kindlers of brave
courage. The incomparable Lacedemonians, did not onelie carrie that
kinde
of Musicke ever with them to the field, but even at home, as such songs
were made, so were they all content to be singers of them: when the
lustie
men were to tell what they did, the old men what they had done, and the
yoong what they would doo. And where a man may say that Pindare many
times
praiseth highly Victories of small moment, rather matters of sport then
vertue, as it may be answered, it was the fault of the Poet, and not of
the Poetrie; so indeed the chiefe fault was, in the time and custome of
the Greekes, who set those toyes at so high a price, that Philip of
Macedon
reckoned a horse-race wonne at Olympus, among his three fearfull
felicities.
But as the unimitable Pindare often did, so is that kind most capable
and
most fit, to awake the thoughts from the sleepe of idlenesse, to
embrace
honourable enterprises. Their rests the Heroicall, whose verie name I
thinke
should daunt all backbiters. For by what conceit can a tongue bee
directed
to speake evil of that which draweth with him no lesse champions then
Achilles,
Cirus, Aeneas, Turnus, Tideus{90}, Rinaldo{91},
who doeth not onely teache and moove to a truth, but teacheth and
mooveth
to the most high and excellent truth: who maketh magnanimitie and
justice,
shine through all mistie fearfulnesse and foggie desires. Who if the
saying
of Plato and Tully{92} bee true, that who could
see
vertue, woulde be woonderfullie ravished with the love of her bewtie.
This
man setteth her out to make her more lovely in her holliday apparell,
to
the eye of anie that will daine, not to disdaine untill they
understand.
But if any thing be alreadie said in the defence of sweete Poetrie, all
concurreth to the mainteining the Heroicall, which is not onlie a
kinde,
but the best and most accomplished kindes of Poetrie. For as the Image
of each Action stirreth and instructeth the minde, so the loftie Image
of such woorthies, moste enflameth the minde with desire to bee
woorthie:
and enformes with counsaile how to bee woorthie. Onely let Aeneas bee
worne
in the Tablet of your memorie, how hee governeth himselfe in the ruine
of his Countrey, in the preserving his olde Father, and carrying away
his
religious Ceremonies, in obeying Gods Commaundment, to leave Dido,
though
not onelie all passionate kindeness, not even the humane consideration
of vertuous gratefulnesse, would have craved other of him: how in
stormes,
how in sports, how in warre, how in peace, how a fugitive, how
victorious,
how besieged, how beseiging, how to straungers, how to Allies, how to
enemies,
how to his owne. Lastly, how in his inwarde selfe, and how in his
outwarde
government, and I thinke in a minde moste prejudiced with a
prejudicating
humour, Hee will bee founde in excellencie fruitefull. Yea as Horace
saith,
Melius Chrisippo & Crantore{93}: but truly
I imagin
it falleth out with these Poet-whippers, as with some good women who
often
are sicke, but in faith they cannot tel where. So the name of Poetrie
is
odious to them, but neither his cause nor effects, neither the summe
that
containes him, nor the particularities descending from him, give any
fast
handle to their carping dispraise. Since then Poetrie is of all humane
learnings the most ancient, and of most fatherly antiquitie, as from
whence
other learnings have taken their beginnings; Since it is so universall,
that no learned nation doth despise it, nor barbarous nation is without
it; Since both Romane & Greeke gave such divine names unto it, the
one of prophesying, the other of making; and that indeed the name of
making
is fit for him, considering, that where all other Arts retain
themselves
within their subject, and receive as it were their being from it. The
Poet
onely, onely bringeth his owne stuffe, and doth not learn a Conceit out
of a matter, but maketh matter for a Conceit. Since neither his
description,
nor end, containing any evill, the thing described cannot be evil;
since
his effects be so good as to teach goodnes, and delight the learners of
it; since therein (namely in morall doctrine the chiefe of all
knowledges)
hee doth not onely farre pass the Historian, but for instructing is
well
nigh comparable to the Philosopher, for moving, leaveth him behind him.
Since the holy scripture (wherein there is no uncleannesse) hath whole
parts in it Poeticall, and that even our Savior Christ vouchsafed to
use
the flowers of it: since all his kindes are not only in their united
formes,
but in their severed dissections fully commendable, I thinke, (and
thinke
I thinke rightly) the Lawrell Crowne appointed for triumphant
Captaines,
doth worthily of all other learnings, honour the Poets triumph. But
bicause
we have eares as well as toongs, and that the lightest reasons that may
be, will seeme to waigh greatly, if nothing be put in the
counterballance,
let us heare, and as well as we can, ponder what objections be made
against
this Art, which may be woorthie either of yeelding, or answering. First
truly I note, not onely in these mysomousoi, Poet-haters, but in all
that
kind of people who seek a praise, by dispraising others, that they do
prodigally
spend a great many wandring words in quips and scoffes, carping and
taunting
at each thing, which by sturring the spleene, may staie the brain from
a th[o]rough beholding the worthinesse of the subject. Those kind of
objections,
as they are full of a verie idle easinesse, since there is nothing of
so
sacred a majestie, but that an itching toong may rub it selfe upon it,
so deserve they no other answer, but in steed of laughing at the jeast,
to laugh at the jeaster. We know a playing wit can praise the
discretion
of an Asse, the comfortablenes of being in debt, and the jolly
commodities
of being sicke of the plague. So of the contrary side, if we will turne
Ovids verse, Ut lateat virtus, prox imitate mali{94},
that good lye hid, in nearnesse of the evill. Agrippa{95}
will be as mery in shewing the vanitie of Science, as Erasmus was in
the
commending of folly: neither shal any man or matter, escape some touch
of these smiling Raylers. But for Erasmus and Agrippa, they had an
other
foundation then the superficiall part would promise. Marry these other
pleasaunt fault-finders, who will correct the Verbe, before they
understande
the Nowne, and confute others knowledge, before they confirme their
owne,
I would have them onely remember, that scoffing commeth not of
wisedome;
so as the best title in true English they get with their meriments, is
to be called good fooles: for so have our grave forefathers ever
tearmed
that humorous kinde of jesters. But that which giveth greatest scope to
their scorning humor, is ryming and versing. It is alreadie said (and
as
I thinke truly said) it is not ryming and versing that maketh Poesie:
One
may be a Poet without versing, and a versefier without Poetrie. But yet
presuppose it were inseperable, as indeed it seemeth Scalliger{96}
judgeth truly, it were an inseperable commendation. For if Oratio, next
to Ratio, Speech next to Reason{97}, be the
greatest
gift bestowed upon Mortalitie, that cannot bee praiseless, which doth
most
polish that blessing of speech; which considereth each word not onely
as
a man may say by his forcible qualitie, but by his best measured
quantity:
carrying even in themselves a Harmonie, without perchance number,
measure,
order, proportion, be in our time growne odious. But laie aside the
just
praise it hath, by being the onely fit speech for Musicke, (Musicke I
say
the most divine striker of the senses) Thus much is undoubtedly true,
that
if reading be foolish without remembring, Memorie being the onely
treasure
of knowledge, those words which are fittest for memory, are likewise
most
convenient for knowledge. Now that Verse far exceedeth Prose, in the
knitting
up of the memorie, the reason is manifest, the words (besides their
delight,
which hath a great affinitie to memorie) being so set as one cannot be
lost, but the whole woorke failes: which accusing it selfe, calleth the
remembrance back to it selfe, and so most strongly confirmeth it.
Besides
one word, so as it were begetting an other, as be it in rime or
measured
verse, by the former a man shall have a neare gesse to the follower.
Lastly
even they that have taught the Art of memory, have shewed nothing so
apt
for it, as a certain roome divided into many places, well &
thoroughly
knowne: Now that hath the verse in effect perfectly, everie word having
his natural seat, which must needs make the word remembred. But what
needes
more in a thing so knowne to all men. Who is it that ever was scholler,
that doth not carry away som verse of Virgil, Horace, or Cato, which in
his youth hee learned, and even to his old age serve him for hourely
lessons;
as Percontatorem fugito nam garrulus idem est, Dum tibi quisq; placet
credula
turba sumas{98}. But the fitnes it hath for
memorie,
is notably prooved by all deliverie of Arts, wherein for the most part,
from Grammer, to Logick, Mathematickes, Physick, and the rest, the
Rules
chiefly necessa[r]ie to be borne away, are compiled in verses. So that
verse being in it selfe sweet and orderly, and being best for memorie,
the onely handle of knowledge, it must be in jest that any man can
speak
against it. Now then goe we to the most important imputations laid to
the
poore Poets, for ought I can yet learne, they are these. First, that
there
beeing manie other more frutefull knowledges, a man might better spend
his time in them, then in this. Secondly, that it is the mother of
lyes.
Thirdly, that it is the nurse of abuse, infecting us with many
pestilent
desires, with a Sirens sweetnesse, drawing the minde to the Serpents
taile
of sinfull fansies; and herein especially Comedies give the largest
field
to eare{99}, as Chawcer saith, how both in
other nations
and in ours, before Poets did soften us, we were full of courage given
to martial exercises, the pillers of man-like libertie, and not lulled
a sleepe in shadie idlenes, with Poets pastimes. And lastly and
chiefly,
they cry out with open mouth as if they had shot Robin-hood, that Plato
banisheth them out of his Commonwealth{100}.
Truly
this is much, if there be much truth in it. First to the first. That a
man might better spend his time, is a reason indeed: but it doth as
they
say, but petere principium{101}. For if it be,
as
I affirme, that no learning is so good, as that which teacheth and
moveth
to vertue, and that none can both teach and move thereto so much as
Poesie,
then is the conclusion manifest; that incke and paper cannot be to a
more
profitable purpose imployed. And certainly though a man should graunt
their
first assumption, it should follow (mee thinks) very unwillingly, that
good is not good, because better is better. But I still and utterly
deny,
that there is sprung out of the earth a more fruitfull knowledge. To
the
second therfore, that they should be the principall lyers, I answere
Paradoxically,
but truly, I think truly: that of all
writers
under the Sunne, the Poet is the least lyer: and though he wold, as a
Poet
can scarecely be a lyer. The Astronomer with his cousin the
Geometrician,
can hardly escape, when they take upon them to measure the height of
the
starres. How often thinke you do the Phisitians lie, when they averre
things
good for sicknesses, which afterwards send Charon{102}
a great number of soules drowned in a potion, before they come to his
Ferrie?
And no lesse of the rest, which take upon them to affirme. Now for the
Poet, he nothing affirmeth, and therefore never lieth: for as I take
it,
to lie, is to affirme that to bee true, which is false. So as the other
Artistes, and especially the Historian, affirming manie things, can in
the clowdie knowledge of mankinde, hardly escape from manie lies. But
the
Poet as I said before, never affirmeth, the Poet never maketh any
Circles
about your imagination{103}, to conjure you to
beleeve
for true, what he writeth: he citeth not authorities of other
histories,
even for his entrie, calleth the sweete Muses to inspire unto him a
good
invention. In troth, not laboring to tel you what is, or is not, but
what
should, or should not be. And therefore though he recount things not
true,
yet because he telleth them not for true, he lieth not: without we will
say, that Nathan lied in his speech before alleaged to David, which as
a wicked man durst scarce say, so think I none so simple, wold say,
that
Esope lied, in the tales of his beasts: for who thinketh Esope wrote it
for actually true, were wel wothie to have his name Cronicled among the
beasts he writeth of. What childe is there, that comming to a play, and
seeing Thebes written in great letters upon an old Doore, doth beleeve
that it is Thebes? If then a man can arrive to the childes age, to know
that the Poets persons and dooings, are but pictures, what should be,
and
not stories what have bin, they will never give the lie to things not
Affirmatively,
but Allegorically and figuratively written; and therefore as in
historie
looking for truth, they may go away full fraught with falshood: So in
Poesie,
looking but for fiction, they shall use the narration but as an
imaginative
groundplat of a profitable invention. But hereto is replied, that the
Poets
give names to men they write of, which argueth a conceit of an actuall
truth, and so not being true, prooveth a falshood. And dooth the Lawier
lye, then when under the names of John of the Stile, and John of the
Nokes,
hee putteth his Case? But that is easily answered, their naming of men,
is but to make their picture the more lively, and not to build anie
Historie.
Painting men, they cannot leave men namelesse: wee see, wee cannot
plaie
at Chestes, but that wee must give names to our Chessemen; and yet mee
thinkes he were a verie partiall Champion of truth, that would say wee
lyed, for giving a peece of wood the reverende title of a Bishop. The
Poet
nameth Cyrus and Aeneas, no other way, then to shewe what men of their
fames, fortunes, and estates, should doo. Their third is, how much it
abuseth
mens wit, training it to wanton sinfulnesse, and lustfull love. For
indeed
that is the principall if not onely abuse, I can heare alleadged. They
say the Comedies rather teach then reprehend amorous conceits. They say
the Lirick is larded with passionat Sonets, the Elegiack weeps the want
of his mistresse, and that even to the Heroical, Cupid hath ambitiously
climed. Alas Love, I would thou couldest as wel defend thy selfe, as
thou
canst offend others: I would those on whom thou doest attend, could
either
put thee away, or yeeld good reason why they keepe thee. But grant love
of bewtie to be a beastly fault, although it be verie hard, since onely
man and no beast hath that gift to discerne bewtie, graunt that lovely
name of love to deserve all hatefull reproches, although even some of
my
maisters the Philosophers spent a good deale of their Lampoyle in
setting
foorth the excellencie of it, graunt I say, what they will have
graunted,
that not onelie love, but lust, but vanitie, but if they will list
scurrilitie,
possesse manie leaves of the Poets bookes, yet thinke I, when this is
graunted,
they will finde their sentence may with good manners put the last words
foremost; and not say, that Poetrie abuseth mans wit, but that mans wit
abuseth Poetrie. For I will not denie, but that mans wit may make
Poesie,
which should be eikastike{104}, which some
learned
have defined figuring foorth good things to be phantastike{105},
which doth contrariwise infect the fancie with unwoorthie objects, as
the
Painter should give to the eye either some excellent perspective, or
some
fine Picture fit for building or fortification, or containing in it
some
notable example, as Abraham sacrificing his sonne Isaack{106},
Judith killing Holofernes{107}, David fighting
with
Golias{108}, may leave those, and please an
ill pleased
eye with wanton shewes of better hidden matters. But what, shal the
abuse
of a thing, make the right use odious? Nay truly though I yeeld that
Poesie
may not onely be abused, but that being abused it can do more hurt then
anie other armie of words: yet shall it be so farre from concluding,
that
the abuse should give reproach to the abused, that contrariwise, it is
a good reason, that whatsoever being abused, doth most harme, being
rightly
used (and upon the right use, ech thing receives his title) doth most
good.
Do we not see skill of Phisicke the best ramper to our often assaulted
bodies, being abused, teach poyon the most violent destroyer? Doth not
knowledge of Law, whose end is, to even & right all things, being
abused,
grow the crooked fosterer of horrible injuries? Doth not (to go to the
highest) Gods word abused, breed heresie, and his name abused, become
blasphemie?
Truly a Needle cannot do much hurt, and as truly (with leave of Ladies
be it spoken) it cannot do much good. With a swoord thou maist kill thy
Father, and with a swoord thou maist defende the Prince and Countrey:
so
that, as in their calling Poets, fathers of lies, they said nothing, so
in this their argument of abuse, they proove the commendation. They
alledge
herewith, that before Poets began to be in price, our Nation had set
their
hearts delight uppon action, and not imagination, rather doing things
worthie
to be written, then writing things fit to be done. What that before
times
was, I think scarcely Sp[h]inx can tell, since no memorie is so
ancient,
that hath not the precedens of Poetrie. And certain it is, that in our
plainest homelines, yet never was the Albion Nation{109}
without Poetrie. Marry this Argument, though it be leviled against
Poetrie,
yet is it indeed a chain-shot{110} against all
learning
or bookishnes, as they commonly terme it. Of such mind were certaine
Gothes,
of whom it is written{111}, that having in the
spoile
of a famous Cittie, taken a faire Librarie, one hangman belike fit to
execute
the frutes of their wits, who had murthered a great number of bodies,
woulde
have set fire in it. No said an other verie gravely, take heed what you
do, for while they are busie about those toyes, wee shall with more
leisure
conqure their Countries. This indeed is the ordinarie doctrine of
ignorance,
and many words sometimes I have heard spent in it: but bicause this
reason
is generally against al learning, as well as Poetrie, or rather all
learning
but Poetrie, because it were too great a digression to handle it, or at
least too superfluous, since it is manifest that all government of
action
is to be gotten by knowledge, and knowledge best, by gathering manie
knowledges,
which is reading; I onlely with Horace, to him that is of that opinion,
jubeo stultum esse libenter{112}, for as for
Poetrie
it selfe, it is the freest from this objection, for Poetrie is the
Companion
of Camps. I dare undertake, Orlando Furioso, or honest king Arthure,
will
never displease a souldier: but the quidditie of Ens & Prima
materia,
will hardly agree with a Corcelet{113}. And
therefore
as I said in the beginning, even Turkes and Tartars, are delighted with
Poets. Homer a Greeke, flourished, before Greece flourished: and if to
a slight conjecture, a conjecture may bee apposed, truly it may seem,
that
as by him their learned men tooke almost their first light of
knowledge,
so their active men, received their first motions of courage. Onely
Alexanders
example may serve, who by Plutarche is accounted of such vertue, that
fortune
was not his guide, but his footestoole, whose Acts speake for him,
though
Plutarche did not: indeede the Phoenix of warlike Princes. This
Alexander,
left his schoolemaister living Aritotle behinde him, but tooke dead
Homer
with him. Hee put the Philosopher Callithenes to death, for his seeming
Philosophicall, indeed mutinous stubbornnesse, but the chiefe thing hee
was ever heard to wish for, was, that Homer had bene alive. Hee well
founde
hee received more braverie of minde by the paterne of Achilles, then by
hearing the definition of fortitude. And therefore if Cato misliked
Fulvius
for carrying Ennius with him to the field{114},
It
may be answered, that if Cato misliked it, the Noble Fulvius liked it,
or else he had not done it, for it was not the excellent Cato Uticencis{115},
whose authoritie I would much more have reverenced: But it was the
former,
in truth a bitter punisher of faultes, but else a man that had never
sacrificed
to the Graces. He misliked and cried out against all Greeke learning,
and
yet being foure score yeares olde began to learne it, belike fearing
that
Pluto{116} understood not Latine. Indeed the
Romane
lawes allowed no person to bee to the warres, but hee that was in the
souldiers
Role. And therefore though Cato misliked his unmustred person, he
misliked
not his worke. And if hee had, Scipio Nasica, (judged by common consent
the best Romane) loved him: both the other Scipio brothers, who had by
their vertues no lesse surnames then of Asia and Afficke, so loved him,
that they caused his{117} bodie to be buried
in their
Sepulture. So as Catoes authoritie beeing but against his person, and
that
answered with so farre greater then himselfe, is herein of no
validitie.
But now indeede my burthen is great, that Plato his name is laide uppon
me, whom I must confessse of all Philosophers, I have ever esteemed
most
worthie of reverence; and with good reason, since of all Philosophers
hee
is the most Poeticall: yet if hee will defile the fountain out of which
his flowing streames have proceeded, let us boldly examine with what
reasons
hee did it. First truly a man might maliciously object, that Plato
being
a Philosopher, was a naturall enemy of Poets. For indeede after the
Philosophers
had picked out of the sweete misteries of Poetrie, the right discerning
true points of knowledge: they forthwith putting it in methode, and
making
a Schoole Art of that which the Poets did onely teach by a divine
delightfulnes,
beginning to spurne at their guides, like ungratefull Prentices, were
not
content to set up shop for themselves, but sought by all meanes to
discredit
their maisters, which by the force of delight being barred them, the
lesse
they could overthrow them, the more they hated them. For indeed they
found
for Homer, seven cities, strave who should have him for their Cittizen,
where so many Cities banished Philosophers, as not fit members to live
among them. For onely repeating certaine of Euripides verses, many
Atheniens
had their lives saved of the Siracusans{118},
where
the Atheniens themseves thought many Philosophers unworthie to live.
Certaine
Poets, as Simonides, and Pindarus, had so prevailed with Hiero the
first,
that of a Tyrant they made him a just King{119}:
where
Plato could do so little with Dionisius, that he himselfe of a
Philosopher,
was made a slave{120}. But who should do thus,
I confesse
should requite the objections made against Poets, with like cavilations
against Philosophers: as likewise one should do, that should bid one
read
Phaedrus or Simposium in Plato, or the discourse of love in Plutarch{121},
and see whether any Poet do authorise abhominable filthinesse as they
doo.
Againe, a man might aske, out of what Common- wealth Plato doth banish
them, in sooth, thence where himselfe alloweth communitie of women{122}.
So as belike this banishment grew not for effeminate wantonnesse, since
little should Poetical Sonnets be hurtful, when a man might have what
woman
he listed. But I honor Philosophicall instructions, and blesse the wits
which bred them: so as they be not abused, which is likewise stretched
to Poetrie. S. Paul himselfe{123} sets a
watch-word
uppon Philosophie{124}, indeed upon the abuse.
So
doth PLato uppon the abuse, not upon Poetrie. Plato found fault that
the
Poettes of his time, filled the worlde with wr[o]ng opinions of the
Gods,
making light tales of that unspotted essence; and therfore wold not
have
the youth depraved with such opinions: heerein may much be said; let
this
suffice. The Poets did not induce such opinions, but did imitate those
opinions alreadie induced. For all the Greeke stories can well
testifie,
that the verie religion of that time, stood upon many, and many
fashioned
Gods: Not taught so by Poets, but followed according to their nature of
imitation. Who list may read in Plutarch, the discourses of Isis and
Osiris,
and of the cause why Oracles ceased, of the divine providence, &
see
whether the Theology of that nation, stood not upon such dreams, which
the Poets indeede superstitiously observed. And truly since they had
not
the light of Christ, did much better in it, then the Philosophers, who
shaking off superstition, brought in Atheisme. Plato therfore, whose
authoritie,
I had much rather justly consture, then unjustly resist: ment not in
generall
of Poets, in those words of which Julius Scaliger saith; Qua
authoritate
barbari quidam atq; hispidi abuti velint ad poetas e rep. Exigendos{125}.
But only ment to drive out those wrong opinions of the Deitie: wherof
now
without further law, Christianitie hath taken away all the hurtfull
beliefe,
perchance as he thought nourished by then esteemed Poets. And a man
need
go no further then to Plato himselfe to knowe his meaning: who in his
Dialogue
called Ion, giveth high, and rightly, divine commendation unto Poetrie.
So as Plato banisheth the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but
giving
due honour to it, shall be our Patron, and not our adversarie. For
indeed,
I had much rather, since truly I may do it, shew their mistaking of
Plato,
under whose Lyons skinne, they would make an Aslike braying{126}
against Poesie, then go about to overthrow his authoritie; whome the
wiser
a man is, the more just cause he shall finde to have in admiration:
especially
since he attibuteth unto Poesie, more then my selfe do; namely, to be a
verie inspiring of a divine force, farre above mans wit, as in the
forenamed
Dialogue is apparant. Of the other side, who would shew the honours
have
bene by the best sort of judgements graunted them, a whole sea of
examples
woulde present themselves; Alexanders, Caesars, Scipioes, all favourers
of Poets: Laelius, called the Romane Socrates himselfe a Poet; so as
part
of Heautontimoroumenon{127} in Terence, was
supposed
to bee made by him. And even the Greeke Socrates, whome Appollo
confirmed
to bee the onely wise man, is said to have spent part of his olde time
in putting Esopes Fables into verses. And therefore full evill should
it
become his scholler Plato, to put such words in his maisters mouth
against
Poets. But what needs more? Aristotle writes of the Arte of Poesie, and
why, if it should not bee written? Plutarche teacheth the use to bee
gathered
of them, and how, if they should not bee reade? And who reades
Plutarches
either Historie or Philosophie, shall finde hee trimmeth both their
garments
with gardes of Poesie. But I list not to defend Poesie with the helpe
of
his underling Historiographie. Let it suffice to have shewed, it is a
fit
soyle for praise to dwell uppon; and what dispraise may set uppon it,
is
either easily overcome, or transformed into just commendation. So that
since the excellencies of it, may bee so easily and so justly
confirmed,
and the lowe creeping objections so soone trodden downe, it not beeing
an Art of lyes, but of true doctrine; not of effoeminatenesse, but of
notable
stirring of courage; not of abusing mans wit; but of strengthening mans
wit; not banished, but honored by Plato; Let us rather plant more
Lawrels
for to ingarland the Poets heads (which honor of being Lawreate, as
besides
them onely triumphant Captaines were, is a sufficient authoritie to
shewe
the price they ought to bee held in) then suffer the ill favoured
breath
of such wrong speakers once to blow uppon the cleare springs of Poesie.
But sice I have runne so long a Carrier in this matter, me thinkes
before
I give my penne a full stoppe, it shall be but a little more lost time,
to enquire why England the Mother of excellent mindes should be growne
so hard a stepmother to Poets, who certainely in wit ought to passe all
others, since all onely proceeds from their wit, beeing indeed makers
of
themselves, not takers of others. How can I but exclaime. Musa mihi
causas
memoria quo numine laeso{128}. Sweete Poesie
that
hath aunciently had Kings, Emperours, Senatours, great Captaines, such
as besides a thousandes others, David, Adrian, Sophocles, Germanicus{129},
not onelie to favour Poets, but to bee Poets: and of our nearer times,
can present for her Patrons, a Robert King of Scicill{130},
the great King Fraunces of Fraunce{131}, King
James
of Scotland{132}; such Cardinalls as Bembus {133},
and Bibiena{134}; suche famous Preachers and
Teachers,
as Beza{135} and Melanchthon{136};
so learned Philosophers as Fracastorius{137},
and
Scaliger{138}; so great Orators, as Pontanus{139},
and Muretus{140}; so pearcing wits, as George
Buchanan{141};
so grave Counsailours, as besides manie, but before all, that Hospitall
of Fraunce{142}; then whome I thinke that
Realme never
brought forth a more accomplished Judgement, more firmly builded upon
vertue:
I say these with numbers of others, not onely to read others Poesies,
but
to poetise for others reading; that Poesie thus embraced in all other
places,
should onely finde in our time a hard welcome in England. I thinke the
verie earth laments it, and therefore deckes our soyle with fewer
Lawrels
then it was accustomed. For heretofore, Poets have in England also
flourished:
and which is to be noted, even in those times when the trumpet of Mars
did sonnd lowdest. And now that an over faint quietnesse should seeme
to
strowe the house for Poets. They are almost in as good reputation, as
the
Mountebanckes at Venice. Truly even that, as of the one side it giveth
great praise to Poesie, which like Venus (but to better purpose) had
rather
be troubled in the net with Mars, then enjoy the homely quiet of Vulcan{143}.
So serveth it for a peece of a reason, why they are lesse gratefull to
idle England, which now can scarce endure the paine of a penne. Upon
this
necessarily followeth, that base men with evill wits undertake it, who
thinke it inough if they can be rewarded of the Printer: and so as
Epaminandas
is said with the honor of his vertue to have made an Office, by his
execising
it, which before was contemtible, to become highly respected{144}:
so these men no more but setting their names to it, by their own
disgracefulnesse,
disgrace the most gracefull Poesie. For now as if all the Muses were
got
with childe, to bring forth bastard Poets: without any commission, they
do passe over the Bankes of the Helicon{145},
till
they make the Readers more wearie then Post- horses: while in the meane
time, they Queis meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan{146},
are better content to suppresse the out- flowings of their wit, then by
publishing them, to be accounted Knights of the same order. But I that
before ever I durst aspire unto the dignitie, am admitted into the
companie
of the Paper-blurrers, do finde the verie true cause of our wanting
estimation,
is want of desert, taking uppon us to be Poets, in despite of Pallas.
Now
wherein we want desert, were a thankwoorthie labour to expresse. But if
I knew I should have mended my selfe, but as I never desired the title,
so have I neglected the meanes to come by it, onely over-mastered by
some
thoughts, I yeelded an inckie tribute unto them. Marrie they that
delight
in Poesie it selfe, should seek to know what they do, and how they do:
and especially looke themselves in an unflattering glasse of reason, if
they be enclinable unto it. For Poesie must not be drawne by the eares,
it must be gently led, or rather it must lead, which was partly the
cause
that made the auncient learned affirme, it was a divine gift & no
humane
skil; since all other knowledges lie readie for anie that have strength
of wit: A Poet no industrie can make, if his owne Genius be not carried
into it. And therefore is an old Proverbe, Orator fit, Poeta nascitur{147}.
Yet confesse I alwaies, that as the fertilest ground must be manured{148},
so must the highest flying wit have a Dedalus{149}
to guide him. That Dedalus they say both in this and in other, hath
three
wrings to beare itself up into the aire of due commendation: that is
Art,
Imitation, and Exercise. But these neither Artificall Rules, nor
imitative
paternes, we much comber our selves withall. Exercise indeed we do, but
that verie fore-backwardly; for where we should exercise to know, we
exercise
as having knowne: and so is our braine delivered of much matter, which
never was begotten by knowledge. For there being two principall parts,
Matter to be expressed by words, and words to expresse the matter: In
neither,
wee use Art or imitation rightly. Our matter is, Quodlibet{150},
indeed though wrongly performing, Ovids Verse. Quicquid conabar dicere,
Versus erit{151}: never marshalling it into
anie assured
ranck, that almost the Readers cannot tell where to finde themselves.
Chawcer
undoubtedly did excellently in his Troilus and Creseid: of whome trulie
I knowe not whether to mervaile more, either that hee in that mistie
time
could see so clearly, or that wee in this cleare age, goe so
stumblingly
after him. Yet had hee great wants, fit to be forgiven in so reverent
an
Antiquitie. I account the Mirrour of Magistrates{152},
meetly furnished of bewtiful partes. And in the Earle of Surreis
Lirickes,
manie thinges tasting of a Noble birth, and worthie of a Noble minde{153}.
The Sheepheards Kalender, hath much Poetrie in his Egloges, indeed
woothie
the reading, if I be not deceived. That same framing of his style to an
old rusticke language, I dare not allow: since neither Theocritus in
Greeke,
Virgill in Latine, nor Sanazara in Italian, did affect it{154}.
Besides these, I doo not remember to have seene but fewe (to speake
boldly)
printed, that have poeticall sinnewes in them. For proofe whereof, let
but moste of the Verses bee put in prose, and then aske the meaning,
and
it will be founde, that one Verse did but beget an other, without
ordering
at the first, what should bee at the last, which becomes a confused
masse
of words, with a tingling sound of ryme, barely accompanied with
reasons.
Our Tragidies and Commedies, not without cause cryed out against,
observing
rules neither of honest civilitie, nor skilfull Poetrie. Excepting
Gorboducke{155},
(againe I say of those that I have seen) which notwithstanding as it is
full of stately speeches, and wel sounding phrases, clyming to the
height
of Seneca his style, and as full of notable morallitie, which it dooth
most delightfully teach, and so obtaine the verie ende of Poesie. Yet
in
truth, it is verie defectious in the circumstaunces, which greeves mee,
because it might not remaine as an exact moddell of all Tragidies. For
it is faultie both in place and time, the two necessarie Companions of
all corporall actions. For where the Stage should alway represent but
one
place, and the uttermoste time presupposed in it, should bee both by
Aristotles{156}
precept, and common reason, but one day; there is both manie dayes and
places, inartificially imagined. But if it bee so in Gorboducke, howe
much
more in all the rest, where you shall have
Asia of the one side, and Affricke of the other, and so mannie other
under
Kingdomes, that the Player when he comes in, must ever begin with
telling
where he is, or else the tale will not be conceived. Now
you shall have three Ladies walke to gather flowers, and then we must
beleeve
the stage to be a garden. By and by we heare newes of shipwrack in the
same place, then we are too blame if we accept it not for a Rock. Upon
the back of that, comes out a hidious monster with fire and smoke, and
then the miserable beholders are bound to take it for a Cave: while in
the meane time two Armies flie in, represented with foure swords &
bucklers, and then what hard hart wil not receive it for a pitched
field.
Now of time, they are much more liberall. For ordinarie it is, that two
yoong Princes fall in love, after many traverses she is got with
childe,
delivered of a faire boy: he is lost, groweth a man, falleth in love,
and
is readie to get another childe, and all this is in two houres space:
which
howe absurd it is in sence, even sence may imagine: and Arte hath
taught,
and all auncient examples justified, and at this day the ordinarie
players
in Italie will not erre in. Yet will some bring in an example of
Eunuche
in Terence{157}, that conteineth matter of two
dayes,
yet far short of twentie yeares. True it is, and so was it to be played
in two dayes, and so fitted to the time it set foorth. And though
Plautus
have in one place done amisse{158}, let us hit
it
with him, & not misse with him. But they will say, how then shall
we
set foorth a storie, which contains both many places, and many times?
And
do they not know that a Tragidie is tied to the lawes of Poesie and not
of Historie: not bounde to follow the storie, but having libertie
either
to faine a quite new matter, or to frame the Historie to the most
Tragicall
conveniencie. Againe, many things may be told which cannot be shewed:if
they know the difference betwixt reporting and representing. As for
example,
I may speake though I am here, of Peru, and in speech digresse from
that,
to the description of Calecut{159}: But in
action,
I cannot represent it without Pacolets Horse{160}.
And so was the manner the Auncients tooke, by some Nuntius{161},
to recount things done in former time or other place. Lastly, if they
will
represent an Historie, they must not (as Horace saith) beginne ab ovo{162},
but they must come to the principall poynte of that one action which
they
will represent. By example this will be best expressed{163}.
I have a storie of yoong Polidorus, delivered for safeties sake with
great
riches, by his Father Priamus, to Polmimester King of Thrace, in the
Troyan
warre time. He after some yeares, hearing the overthrowe of Priamus,
for
to make the treasure his owne, murthereth the Childe, the bodie of the
Childe is taken up, Hecuba, shee the same day, findeth a sleight to bee
revenged moste cruelly of the Tyrant. Where nowe would one of our
Tragedie
writers begin, but with the deliverie of the Childe? Then should hee
saile
over into Thrace, and so spende I know not how many yeares, and
travaile
numbers of places. But where dooth Euripides? even with the finding of
the bodie, the rest leaving to be told by the spirite of Polidorus.
This
needes no futher to bee enlarged, the dullest witte may conceive it.
But
besides these grosse absurdities, howe all their Playes bee neither
right
Tragedies, nor right Comedies, mingling Kinges and Clownes, not because
the matter so carrieth it, but thrust in the Clowne by head and
shoulders
to play a part in majesticall matters, with neither decencie nor
discretion:
so as neither the admiration and Commiseration, nor the the right
sportfulnesse
is by their mongrell Tragicomedie obtained. I know Apuleius did
somewhat
so, but that is a thing recounted with space of time, not represented
in
one moment: and I knowe the Auncients have one or two examples of
Tragicomedies,
as Plautus hath Amphitrio. But if we marke them well, wee shall finde
that
they never or verie daintily matche horne Pipes and Funeralls. So
falleth
it out, that having indeed no right Comedie in that Comicall part of
our
Tragidie, wee have nothing but scurrilitie unwoorthie of anie chaste
eares,
or some extreame shewe of doltishnesse, indeede fit to lift up a loude
laughter and nothing else: where the whole tract of a Comedie should
bee
full of delight, as the Tragidie should bee still maintained in a well
raised admiration. But our Comedients thinke there is no delight
without
laughter, which is verie wrong, for though laughter may come with
delight,
yet commeth it not of delight, as though delight should be the cause of
laughter. But well may one thing breed both togither. Nay rather in
themselves,
they have as it were a kinde of contrarietie: For delight wee scarecly
doo, but in thinges that have a conveniencie to our selves, or to the
generall
nature: Laughter almost ever commeth of thinges moste disproportioned
to
our selves, and nature. Delight hath a joy in it either permanent or
present.
Laughter hath onely a scornfull tickling. For example, wee are ravished
with delight to see a faire woman, and yet are farre from beeing mooved
to laughter. Wee laugh at deformed creatures, wherein certainly wee
cannot
delight. We delight in good chaunces, wee laugh at mischaunces. We
delight
to heare the happinesse of our friendes and Countrey, at which hee were
worthie to be laughed at, that would laugh: we shall contrarily laugh
sometimes
to finde a matter quite mistaken, and goe downe the hill against the
byas,
in the mouth of some such men as for the respect of them, one shall be
heartily sorie, he cannot chuse but laugh, and so is rather pained,
then
delighted with laughter. Yet denie I not, but that they may goe well
togither,
for as in Alexanders picture well set out, wee delight without
laughter,
and in twentie madde Antiques, wee laugh without delight. So in
Hercules,
painted with his great beard and furious countenaunce, in a womans
attyre,
spinning, at Omphales commaundement{164}, it
breeds
both delight and laughter: for the representing of so straunge a power
in Love, procures delight, and the scornefulnesse of the action,
stirreth
laughter. But I speake to this purpose, that all the ende of the
Comicall
part, bee not uppon suche scornefull matters as stirre laughter onelie,
but mixe with it, that delightfull teaching whiche is the ende of
Poesie.
And the great faulte even in that poynt of laughter, and forbidden
plainly
by Aristotle{165}, is, that they stirre
laughter in
sinfull things, which are rather execrable then ridiculous: or in
miserable,
which are rather to be pitied then scorned. For what is it to make
folkes
gape at a wretched begger, and a beggerly Clowne: or against lawe of
hospitalitie,
to jeast at straungers, because they speake not English so well as we
do?
What doo we learne, since it is certaine, Nil habet infoelix paupertas
durius in se, Quam quod ridiculos homines facit{166}.
But rather a busie loving Courtier, and a hartelesse thretning Thraso{167},
a selfe-wise seeming Schoolemaister, a wry transformed Traveller: these
if we saw walke in Stage names, which we plaie naturally, therein were
delightfull laughter, and teaching delightfulnesse; as in the other the
Tragedies of Buchanan{168} do justly bring
foorth
a divine admiration. But I have lavished out too many words of this
Play-matter;
I do it, because as they are excelling parts of Poesie, so is there
none
so much used in England, and none can be more pittifully abused: which
like an unmannerly daughter, shewing a bad education, causeth her
mother
Poesies honestie to be called in question. Other sort of Poetrie,
almost
have we none, but that Lyricall kind of Songs and Sonets; which Lord,
if
he gave us so good mindes, how well it might be employed, and with how
heavenly fruites, both private and publike, in singing the praises of
the
immortall bewtie, the immortall goodnes of that God, who giveth us
hands
to write, and wits to conceive: of which we might wel want words, but
never
matter, of which we could turne our eyes to nothing, but we should ever
have new budding occassions. But truly many of such writings as come
under
the banner of unresistable love, if I were a mistresse, would never
perswade
mee they were in love: so coldly they applie firie speeches, as men
that
had rather redde lovers writings, and so caught up certaine swelling
Phrases,
which hang togither like a man that once tolde me the winde was at
Northwest
and by South, because he would be sure to name winds inough, then that
in truth they feele those passions, which easily as I thinke, may be
bewraied
by that same forciblenesse or Energia, (as the Greeks call it of the
writer).
But let this be a sufficient, though short note, that we misse the
right
use of the material point of Poesie. Now for the outside of it, which
is
words, or (as I may tearme it) Diction, it is even well worse: so is it
that hony-flowing Matrone Eloquence, apparrelled, or rather disguised,
in a Courtisanlike painted affectation. One time with so farre fet
words,
that many seeme monsters, but must seeme straungers to anie poore
Englishman:
an other time with coursing of a letter, as if they were bound to
follow
the method of a Dictionary: an other time with figures and flowers,
extreemely
winter-starved. But I would this fault were onely peculiar to
Versefiers,
and had not as large possession among Prose- Printers: and which is to
be mervailed among many Schollers, & which is to be pitied among
some
Preachers. Truly I could wish, if at I might be so bold to wish, in a
thing
beyond the reach of my capacity, the diligent Imitators of Tully &
Demosthenes, most worthie to be imitated, did not so much keepe
Nizolian
paper bookes{169}, of their figures and
phrase, as
by attentive translation, as it were, devoure them whole, and make them
wholly theirs. For now they cast Sugar and spice uppon everie dish that
is served to the table: like those Indians, not content to weare
eare-rings
at the fit and naturall place of the eares, but they will thrust Jewels
through their nose and lippes, because they will be sure to be fine.
Tully
when he was to drive out Catiline, as it were with a thunderbolt of
eloquence,
often useth the figure of repitition, as Vivit & vincit, imo in
senatum,
Venit imo, in senatum venit{170}, &c.
Indeede
enflamed, with a well grounded rage, hee would have his words (as it
were
) double out of his mouth, and so do that artificially, which we see
men
in choller doo naturally. And we having noted the grace of those words,
hale them in sometimes to a familiar Epistle, when it were too much
choller
to be chollericke. How well store of Similiter Cadenses{171},
doth sound with the gravitie of the Pulpit, I woulde but invoke
Demosthenes
soule to tell: who with a rare daintinesse useth them. Truly they have
made mee thinke of the Sophister{172}, that
with too
much subtiltie would prove two Egges three, and though he might bee
counted
a Sophister, had none for his labour. So these men bringing in such a
kind
of eloquence, well may they obtaine an opinion of a seeming finesse,
but
perswade few, which should be the ende of their finesse. Now for
similitudes
in certain Printed discourses, I thinke all Herberists, all stories of
beasts, foules, and fishes, are rifled up, that they may come in
multitudes
to wait upon any of our conceits, which certainly is as absurd a surfet
to the eares as is possible. For the force of a similitude not being to
prove any thing to a contrary disputer, but onely to explain to a
willing
hearer, when that is done, the rest is a most tedious pratling, rather
overswaying the memorie from the purpose whereto they were applied,
then
anie whit enforming the judgement alreadie either satisfied, or by
similitudes
not to be satisfied. For my part, I doo not doubt, when Antonius and
Crassus{173},
the great forefathers of Cicero in eloquence, the one (as Cicero
testifieth
of them) pretended not to know Art, the other not to set by it,
(because
with a plaine sensiblenesse, they might winne credit of popular eares,
which credit, is the nearest steppe to perswasion, which perswasion, is
the chiefe marke of Oratorie) I do not doubt I say, but that they used
these knacks verie sparingly, which who doth generally use, any man may
see doth dance to his own musick, and so to be noted by the audience,
more
careful to speak curiously than truly. Undoubtedly (at least to my
opinion
undoubtedly) I have found in divers smal learned Courtiers, a more
sound
stile, then in some professors of learning, of which I can gesse no
other
cause, but that the Courtier following that which by practice he
findeth
fittest to nature, therein (though he know it not) doth according to
art,
thogh not by art (as in these cases he shuld do) flieth from nature,
&
indeed abuseth art. But what? methinks, I deserve to be pounded{174}
for straying from Poetrie, to Oratory: but both have such an affinitie
in the wordish consideration, that I think this digression will make my
meaning receive the fuller understanding: which is not to take upon me
to teach Poets how they should do, but only finding my selfe sicke
among
the rest, to shew some one or two spots of the common infection growne
among the most part of writers; that acknowledging our selves somewhat
awry, wee may bende to the right use both of matter and manner. Whereto
our language giveth us great occasion, being indeed capable of any
excellent
exercising of it. I knowe some will say it is a mingled language: And
why
not, so much the better, taking the best of both the other? Another
will
say, it wanteth Grammer. Nay truly it hath that praise that it wants
not
Grammar; for Grammer it might have, but it needs it not, being so easie
in it selfe, and so voyd of those combersome differences of Cases,
Genders,
Moods, & Tenses, which I thinke was a peece of the Tower of
Babilons
curse{175}, that a man should be put to
schoole to
learn his mother tongue. But for the uttering sweetly and properly the
conceit of the minde, which is the end of speech, that hath it equally
with any other tongue in the world. And is perticularly happy in
compositions
of two or three wordes togither, neare the Greeke, farre beyonde the
Latine,
which is one of the greatest bewties can be in a language. Now of
versefying,
there are two sorts, the one auncient, the other moderne. The auncient
marked the quantitie of each sillable, and according to that, framed
his
verse: The moderne, observing onely number, with some regard of the
accent;
the chiefe life of it, standeth in that like sounding of the words,
which
we call Rime. Whether of these be the more excellent, wold bear many
speeches,
the ancient no doubt more fit for Musicke, both words and time
observing
quantitie, and more fit, lively to expresse divers passions by the low
or loftie sound of the well-wayed sillable. The latter likewise with
his
rime striketh a certaine Musicke to the ear: and in fine, since it
dooth
delight, though by an other way, it obtaineth the same purpose, there
being
in either sweetnesse, and wanting in neither, majestie. Truly the
English
before any Vulgare language, I know is fit for both sorts: for, for the
auncient, the Italian is so full of Vowels, that it must ever be
combred
with Elisions. The Duch so of the other side with Consonants, that they
cannot yeeld the sweete slyding, fit for a Verse. The French in his
whole
language, hath not one word that hath his accent in the last sillable,
saving two, called Antepenultima; and little more hath the Spanish, and
therefore verie gracelessly may they use Dactiles. The English is
subject
to none of these defects. Now for Rime, though we doo not observe
quan[ti]tie,
yet we observe the Accent verie precisely, which other languages either
cannot do, or will not do so absolutely. That Caesura, or breathing
place
in the midst of the Verse, neither Italian nor Spanish have: the French
and we, never almost faile off. Lastly, even the verie Rime it selfe,
the
Italian cannot put it in the last sillable, by the French named the
Masculine
Rime; but still in the next to the last, which the French call the
Female;
or the next before that, which the Italian Sdrucciola: the example of
the
former, is Buono, Suono, of the Sdrucciola, is Femina, Semina. The
French
of the other side, hath both the Male as Bon, Son; and the Female, as
Plaise,
Taise{176}; but the Sdrucciola he hath not:
where
the English hath all three, as Du, Trew, Father, Rather, Motion, Potion{177},
with much more which might be sayd, but that alreadie I finde the
triflings
of this discourse is much too much enlarged. So that since the
ever-praise
woorthie Poesie is full of vertue breeding delightfulnesse, and voyd of
no gift that ought to be in the noble name of learning, since the
blames
layd against it, are either false or feeble, since the cause why it is
not esteemed in England, is the fault of Poet- apes, not Poets. Since
lastly
our tongue is most fit to honour Poesie, and to bee honoured by Poesie,
I conjure you all that have had the evill luck to read this
inck-wasting
toy of mine, even in the name of the nine Muses, no more to scorne the
sacred misteries of Poesie. No more to laugh at the name of Poets, as
though
they were next inheritors to fooles; no more to jest at the reverent
title
of a Rimer, but to beleeve with Aristotle, that they were the auncient
Treasurers of the Grecians divinitie{178}; to
beleeve
with Bembus, that they were the first bringers in of all Civilitie; to
beleeve with Scalliger that no Philosophers precepts can sooner make
you
an honest man, then the reading of Virgil{179};
to
beleeve with Clauserus, the Translator of Cornatus, that it pleased the
heavenly deitie by Hesiod and Homer, under the vaile of Fables to give
us all knowledge, Logicke, Rhetoricke, Philosophie, naturall and
morall,
and Quid non?{180} to beleeve with me, that
there
are many misteries contained in Poetrie, which of purpose were written
darkly, least by prophane wits it should be abused: To beleeve with
Landin{181},
that they are so beloved of the Gods, that whatsoever they write,
proceeds
of a divine furie. Lastly, to beleeve themselves when they tell you
they
will make you immortal by their verses. Thus doing, your name shall
florish
in the Printers shops. Thus doing you shalbe of kin to many a Poeticall
Preface. Thus doing, you shal be most faire, most rich, most wise, most
all: you shall dwel upon Superlatives. Thus doing, though you be
Libertino
patre natus{182}, you shall sodeinly grow
Herculea
proles{183}. Si quid mea Carmina possunt{184}.
Thus doing, your soule shall be placed with Dantes Beatrix, or Virgils
Anchises. But if (fie of such a but) you bee borne so neare the
dull-making
Cataract of Nilus, that you cannot heare the Planet-like Musicke of
Poetrie;
if you have so earth- creeping a mind that it cannot lift it selfe up
to
looke to the skie of Poetrie, or rather by a certaine rusticall
disdaine,
wil become such a mome, as to bee a Momus of Poetrie: then though I
will
not wish unto you the Asses eares of Midas, nor to be driven by a Poets
verses as Bubonax{185} was, to hang himselfe,
nor
to be rimed to death as is said to be done in Ireland, yet thus much
Curse
I must send you in the behalfe of all Poets, that while you live, you
live
in love, and never get favour, for lacking skill of a Sonet, and
when you die, your memorie die from the earth for want of an Epitaphe.
F I N
I S.
Notes
Where notes are derived from
the notes
of others, the source is cited within parentheses. Uncited notes
frequently
reflect a cursory inspection of relevant entries in A Dictionary of
Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, ed. William Smith (London:
1890). I have refrained from citing line numbers in primary sources as
I have not had the opportunity to check them myself. The reader is
hereby
advised to regard my rudimentary knowledge of the classics or
continental
Renaissance authors as not in any way authoritative. RSB
{1}
E.W.: Edward Wotton, secretary to the English at the court of
Maximilian
II. (Duncan-Jones, Sir Philip Sidney [1989] 372)
{2}
Pedenteria: pedantry.
{3}
In Renaissance times Musaeus was thought to predate Homer.
{4}
It was believed that the works of the ancients were intrinsically
superior
and of great authority. It was a mark of learning to imitate them, as
in
fact Sidney does by casting the Defence in the form of a
classical
oration.
{5}
Amphion: said to have rebuilt Thebes with the sweetness of his lyre.
{6}
Details on the works, or in some cases fragments, of these Greek
philosophers
may be found in the excellent exhaustive notes of Duncan-Jones, 373.
She
believes Sidney may have encountered them in Henri Estienne, Poesis
Philosophica [1573].
{7} Symposium.
{8} Phaedrus.
{9} Republic II.
{10}
stale: stole.
{11}
Arentos: areytos. Religious music of the native inhabitants of
Haiti,
from Decades of the newe worlde or West India [1555], by Peter
Martyr
(tr. Richard Eden), III.vii. (Duncan- Jones 373)
{12}
Vaticinium, and Vaticinari: prophecy, prophesying. The prophetic office
of poet has interested poets and philosophers from Plato to S.T.
Coleridge.
For a useful discussion of this poetics in Sidney's time, see Angus
Fletcher, The Prophetic Moment: An Essay on Spenser
[1971].
{13}
Albinus was the Roman governor of Britain in 192 C.E. (Duncan-Jones and
Van Dorsten, Miscellaneous Prose of Sir Philip Sidney 189) The
line
quoted from Aeneid II.314 translates "insanely I arm, that have
no reason to arm."
{14}
Hebritians: Hebricians, scholars of the Hebrew language. Jerome, and
many
others after him, believed that the Psalms were written in verse, and
sought
in vain to find the rules. (Duncan-Jones 375)
{15}
Prosopopeias: attribution of human qualities (personification) to
natural
objects or events.
{16}
poieten: "a poet," with which phrase the Greek word is replaced in
subsequent
editions.
{17}
Art: any skill in production, including of knowledge, hence inclusive
of
the sciences.
{18}
Theagenes: from Heliodorus, Aethiopica.
{19}
Pylades: from Euripides, Oresteia.
{20}
Orlando: Ariosto, Orlando furioso [1532].
{21}
Cyrus: Ruler of Persia, 600?-529 B.C.E.; from Xenophon, Cyropaedia.
{22}
Aeneas is said to have been regarded during the Renaissance as the
perfect
man (Duncan-Jones and Van Dorsten 190); he was especially attractive to
Englishmen as the ancestor of the founders of Rome and also, according
to legend, of the founders of Britain. See Michael Drayton, Poly-Olbion
[1612].
{23}
Compare Scaliger, Poetics [1561]. The poet, according to
Scaliger,
creates models, which partake of the first nature, so that the poet's
creativity
is like that of God.
{24}
Aristotle, Poetics I.2.
{25}
Horace, Ars Poetica. Plutarch says, in the Moralia,
that
Simonides said this first.
{26}
Bible translators.
{27}
Paules: subsequent editions have James': the quote is from James
5:13.
{28}
Pontanus: Giovanni Pontano is the only non- classical author here
cited.
For details on the works alluded to, see Duncan-Jones, 375.
{29}
Heliodorus, Aethiopica.
{30} architectonike: Master-art or science of
science.
Analogous to the
use of "scientific method" as the organizing theory of the scientific
disciplines
today.
{31}
Sidney seems to be quoting his Cicero (De oratore II.ix.36) from
memory. The passage reads: Lux vitae, temporum magistra, vita
memoriae,
nuntia vetustatis...: "Light of life, master of the age, life of
memory,
messenger from the past..."
{32}
Formidine poenae: fear of being punished.
{33}
Virtutis amore: love of virtue.
{34}
Anchices: Anchises, the father of Aeneas. See Virgil, Aeneid
II.
{35}
Homer, Odyssey V.
{36}
Horace, Epistles I.ii. (Duncan-Jones and Van Dorsten 195)
{37}
The first three examples are from the Iliad; in Aeneid
V.,
Nisus helps Euryalus to victory in an important race, even though he
himself
has fallen and cannot complete the course.
{38}
Terence, Eunuchus. "Gnatho" in Sidney's time was any social
parasite
after the character by that name in Terence. (Duncan-Jones 376)
{39}
Chaucer, Troilus and Criseyde. A "pandar" was a procurer of
sexual
services, after the character in Chaucer.
{40}
Horace, Ars poetica: "Mediocrity in poets is permitted neither
by
the Gods, nor men, nor booksellers." (Books were sold around columns in
Rome.)
{41}
Luke 16:19-31.
{42}
Luke 15:11-32.
{43} Poetics X.
{44}
"studiously serious" was omitted in Ponsonby.
{45}
Justin, Histories, translated by Arthur Golding, 1564.
(Duncan-Jones
377)
{46}
"Dares Phrygius's" purported account of the Trojan war was
traditionally
thought to be genuine, but by Sidney's time there were already serious
doubts. (Duncan-Jones and Van Dorsten 196)
{47}
Horace, Epodes V.
{48}
Tantalus revealed the secrets entrusted to him by Zeus and was horribly
punished in the underworld; Atreus killed the two sons of Thyestes and
served him their flesh at a banquet.
{49}
Quintus Rufus Curtius wrote a life of Alexander the Great.
{50}
Herodotus, Histories III; Justin, Histories I.x.
(Duncan-Jones
378)
{51}
Livy, Histories I.iii,iv. (Duncan- Jones 378)
{52}
This incident is recorded in Cyropaedia VI.i, but of Araspas,
not
Abradates. (Duncan-Jones 378)
{53}
Milciades: Miltiades defeated the Persians at Marathon, but afterwards
misused an Athenian fleet and was imprisoned, where he died of a leg
wound
received in the naval adventure. Herodotus, Histories IV.
{54}
Phocion, an Athenian public servant, was executed for suspicion of
illegally
negotiating with the Macedonians; Plutarch, Phocion.
{55}
Socrates was condemned and executed on suspicion of having taught
atheism
to the youth of Athens; Plato, Apology, Crito, Phaedo.
{56}
Lucius Septimius Severus, Roman emperor, C.E. 193- 211, who tended to
visit
horrible vengeance on defeated foes, and celebrated victories with
massively
bloody spectacles in the Roman circus.
{57}
M. Aurelius Alexander Severus, Roman emperor C.E. 222-235, who effected
many reforms and halted, for awhile, the deterioration of the the Roman
civilization.
{58}
Lucius Sulla and Caius Marius (second century B.C.E.) fought over Rome
for many years, with much loss of blood in civil strife, yet neither
came
to a violent end.
{59}
Each was killed after he had already fled.
{60}
Cato, among the defeated at Pharsalia (48 B.C.E.), was run to ground
some
time afterward, and killed himself to avoid capture.
{61}
"He knew not letters"; Julius Caesar in Suetonius' biography.
{62} Occidentos esse: occidendos esse, "they
are to be
executed."
{63}
An assortment of noted tyrants.
{64} philophilosophos: "lovers of the lovers
of wisdom." A fan
of philosophers.
{65} gnosis: knowledge; praxis:
performance.
{66}
"here is the work and the labor." Virgil, Aeneid VI. The Sybil
on
getting back from the underworld.
{67}
Aristotle, Poetics IV.
{68} Amadis de Gaule, written in Spanish, was
much read in
French translation
and frequently imitated, influencing the genre of knightly romances,
including
Sidney's Arcadia.
{69}
Virgil, Aeneid II.
{70}
"And shall my country watch me flee? Is it such a terrible thing to
die?"
Virgil, Aeneid XII. In Ponsonby "usque" and "adeone" are run
together
into one word.
{71}
Poetius: Boethius. Perhaps a typographical error or compositor's
misreading
of the transcript; corrected elsewhere.
{72}
indulgere genio: "indulging one's natural bent."
{73}
A friend of Coriolanus. The story was famous in antiquity, and is
retold
in Shakespeare, Coriolanus I.i.
{74}
II Samuel 12:1-15.
{75}
Psalms 51.
{76}
Sannazaro, Arcadia [1504].
{77}
Boethius, De consolatione philosophiae [524 C.E.].
{78}
Virgil, Eclogues I.
{79}
"I remember this, that conquered Thyrsus achieved nothing: meanwhile
for
our time it is Corydon [who is the winner]." Virgil, Eclogues
VII.
"Thyrsim" in Ponsonby is elsewhere emended to "Thirsin."
{80}
A classical genre, in iambic feet, like satire but less indirect.
{81}
"The sly one all vices touches on, so that his friend may laugh."
Persius, Satires I. In the original text: Omne vafer vitium
ridenti Flaccus
amico Tangit, et admissus circum praecordia ludit.
{82}
"around the heart he plays." See quotation from Persius, note 81.
{83}
"Is there life in Ulubrae for us if we can keep our balance?" Horace, Epistles
I.xi. Even assuming we can get to Ulubrae without falling down, the
place
will bore us stiff, says Horace. The town was reached by passing
through
marshes. (Duncan-Jones and Van Orsten, 200)
{84}
Terentian characters, none of whom were intended to be imitated.
{85}
Pistrinum: pistrinum, a type of Roman flour mill, powered by
asses;
when slaves misbehaved, they were sometimes substituted for the asses
as
a punishment.
{86}
"An evil ruler's heavy scepter makes him afraid of those who fear him,
and the fear returns to its author." Seneca, Oedipus.
{87}
This Alexander had killed his uncle and taken over rule of Pherae (369
B.C.E. approx.), and was particularly noted for bloodshed. Plutarch, Vita
Pelopidae.
{88} Chevy Chase.
{89}
Street musician, especially a fiddle player.
{90}
Tideus: Tydeus. Statius, Thebais.
{91}
Tasso: Gerusalemme Liberata [1575].
{92}
Marcus Tullius Cicero.
{93}
"Better than Chrysippus and Crantor." Horace, Epistles I.ii. It
is Homer that is better for students than these philosophers, says
Horace.
{94}
Ovid, Ars Amatoria: et lateat vitium proximitate boni.
Call
a woman light instead of short, "thus hiding evil by its nearness to
the
good."
{95}
Cornelius Agrippa, De incertitudine et vanitate scientiarium et
artium
[1530].
{96}
Scaliger, Poetics I.ii.
{97}
Other creatures might have speech or some reasoning powers, but only in
the human, it was thought, are these combined.
{98}
In Ponsonby only; quisq=quisque. See Horace, Epistles I.xviii;
Ovid, Remedia amoris.
{99} Canterbury Tales, "The Knights Tale" 28.
"To eare" is "to
plow."
{100}
Plato, Republic II.iii.
{101}
"This is but to beg the question."
{102}
Charon: ferryman who conveyed souls to Hades over the river Styx.
{103}
Magicians drew a pentangle within a circle for conjuring up demons.
{104}
eikastike: shown forth.
{105}
phantastike: imagined.
{106}
Genesis 22.
{107}
Judith 13.
{108}
I Samuel 17.
{109}
Albion Nation: the English.
{110}
Chain-shot: two cannon balls connected by a length of chain, fired at
once.
Suitable for firing into massed opponents, or ship's rigging.
{111}
Dio Cassius, Historia Roma, continuation, iii.
{112}
"I say to him to feel free to be a fool." Horace, Satires
I.i.
{113}
Scholastic topoi: "essential nature" and "primary substance"
are
not subjects that go well with body armor.
{114}
M. Portius Cato Censorious sought to prevent M. Fulvius Nobilor from
obtaining
the honor of a Triumph because, as he said, Fulvius did not maintain
proper
discipline among his troops and kept a poet in his camp. See Cicero, Tusculanarum
Disputationem i.2.
{115}
M. Porcius Cato, great-grandson of Cato the Censor.
{116}
Pluto: god of the underworld.
{117}
Ennius'. Cicero, Pro archia poeta IX.
{118}
Told in Plutarch, Vita Niciae.
{119}
Simonides talked Hieron I into being reconciled to his brother.
(Duncan-Jones
383)
{120}
Cicero, Pro Caius Rabirio postumo IX.
{121}
Plutarch, Moralia.
{122}
Plato, Republic V.
{123}
Ponsonby here omits "who yet for the credit of Poets allegeth twice two
poets and one of them by the name of prophet," found elsewhere. Acts
17:28
and Titus 1 are cited in the margin of the Penshurst ms. (Duncan-Jones
383)
{124}
Colossians 2:8.
{125}
"[Plato's] authority used by barbarians to send out poets from the
republic,"
Scaliger, Poetics I.ii.
{126}
Aesop, Fables.
{127}
"The Man Who Hurts Himself."
{128}
"O muse, cause me to remember how, when balked..." Virgil, Aeneid
I.
{129}
Generals and poets all. Adrian: The Roman Emperor Hadrian (117-38
C.E.).
(Duncan-Jones 384)
{130}
Robert II of Anjou, the friend and patron of Francesco Petrarca.
{131}
Francis I.
{132}
James I.
{133}
Bembus: Pietro Bembo. Author of number of works, including poetry; see
also Baldsar Castiglione's Il Cortegiano [1528], in which he
figures
prominently.
{134}
Bibiena: Bernard Dovizi, Cardinal Bibbiena, served Lorenzo de'Medici.
(Duncan-Jones
385)
{135}
Beza: Theodore de Beze.
{136}
Philip Melancthon was known to Sidney's humanist friend Hubert
Languet.
{137}
Fracastorius: Girolamo Fracastorio, scientific and medical author.
{138}
Julius Caesar Scaliger had considerable influence on the Defence.
{139}
Pontanus: Giovanni Pontano.
{140}
Muretus: Marc-Antoine Muret.
{141}
George Buchanan was a humanist scholar and tutor to James VI.
{142}
Michel Hurault de l'Hospital.
{143}
See Ovid, Metamorphoses IV. In Golding, lines 202ff.
{144}
The office of Telearch included keeping the streets clean. Plutarch, Moralia.
{145}
Stream (here, of unnecessary words) flowing from the spring of the
Muses.
{146}
"From superior clay their being by the Titan formed." Juvenal, Satires
XIV.
{147}
"Orators are made, but poets are born."
{148}
Manured: fertilized. This included the turning under of the soil.
{149}
Dedalus: Daedalus, mythological architect and archetype of the artist.
"Wrings"="wings." Daedalus constructed wings for himself and his son in
order to effect an escape. The fate of Icarus demonstrates Sidney's
point
that it is the use of a thing, not the thing itself, that goes awry,
though
he does not pursue that point here.
{150}
Quodlibet: Scholastic term for "what you will"; the floor is open to
debate
on any point.
{151}
"Anything I attempted to say, verses became." Ovid, Tristia
IV.x.
(Duncan-Jones 387)
{152} The Mirror of Magistrates first appeared
in 1555, but was
suppressed
by the Lord Chancellor as a threat to Queen Mary's reign. It survived
through
seven more editions, however, and became immensely popular and
influential.
There may have been as many as seven authors in the first edition, and
the number grew as the volume was expanded; hence "partes." (Hyder
Rollins
and Baker and Herschel Baker, The Renaissance in England:
Non-Dramatic
Prose and Verse of the Sixteenth Century [1954] 269)
{153}
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. Many of his poems had found their way
into
the popular volume of Richard Tottel's Songs and Sonnets Written by
the Right Honorable Henry Haward Late Earl of Surrey and Other
[1557],
known to posterity as the Miscellany. In fact only some forty
of
the poems were Surrey's; more than ninety are attributed to Thomas
Wyatt.
(Rollins and Baker 194).
{154}
Edmund Spenser, The Shepheardes
Calender
Conteyning Twelve Aeglogves Proportionable to the Twelve Monethes
[1579].
Theocritus, Virgil, and Sannazaro represent the pastoral tradition
which
the Calender follows. Sidney objects that none of them affects
archaic
language.
{155}
Thomas Sackville and Thomas Norton, Gorboduc [1571].
{156}
Aristotle, Poetics V.i. It was commonly believed that Aristotle
limited the action of drama to a single day, or what computer game
designers
now call "real-time." Aristotle was descibing current practice, not
laying
down rules.
{157}
This is not Eunuchus but Heautontimouromenos (see note
127
above). Sidney, as was very common at the time and well into the
seventeenth
century, appears to be working from memory alone for most of his
citations.
{158}
Probably a reference to the Captivi of Plautus.
{159}
Calecut: Calicut, a port on the southwest, or Malibar, coast of India,
reached by Vasco da Gama in 1498.
{160}
Pacolet, the magician in the medieval romance Valentine and Orson,
had a horse that could transport him instantaneously to his
destination.
{161}
Message runner.
{162} ab ovo: "out of the egg." Horace, Ars
poetica.
{163}
The story is from Euripides' Hecuba.
{164}
Hercules, in mythology, fell in love with Omphale, giving her the
leverage
to order him to yet more labors besides the famous Twelve which he had
just completed.
{165}
Aristotle, Poetics V.i. What Aristotle actually says is that
comedy
examines the ludicrous but not to the extent of finding humor in
pain.
{166}
"There is no greater unhappiness in poverty than than it makes men
appear
silly." Juvenal, Satires III.
{167}
Thraso: a character in Terence, Eunuchus.
{168}
Buchanan: George Buchanan, the tutor of James VI.
{169}
Nizolian paper bookes: common-place books containing a copia of
useful phrases, the misuse of which could lead to writing that smelled
of "ink-horn termes" (Wilson, Arte of Rhetorique [1553]).
{170}
Cicero, In Catilinam I: "Senatus haec intelligit, consu videt;
hic
tamen vivit. Vivit? Imo vero etiam in senatum venit..." "The Senate
knows
this, and the consul has seen it, yet he is still alive. Alive? why, he
even comes to his seat in the senate!" The effect of alliteration of
"v"
in "sees," "lives," "lives," "truth," "comes" (in the Latin), says
Sidney,
is imitative of someone so filled with moral indignation that he hasn't
time to prepare a formal speech on the topic.
{171}
Similiter cadenses: similiter cadentes, use of similar-sounding
endings of nouns and clauses in excessive imitation of Cicero.
(Duncan-Jones
and Van Dorsten 207)
{172}
The Sophists were teachers of rhetoric criticized by Plato for being
too
ready to take either side of a question for pay. The story of the eggs
was an old (Thomas More used it) but still useful joke in Sidney's
time.
{173}
M. Antonius and L. Crassus, first century B.C.E. Cicero, De oratore
II.i.
{174}
pounded: impounded.
{175}
Tower of Babel, Genesis 10.
{176}
"plaise, taise" require two-syllable pronunciation to take his point.
{177}
"motion, potion" in Sidney's example of sdrucciola are
three-syllable
words.
{178}
Attributed to Aristotle by Boccaccio, De genealogia deorum
XIV.vii.
(Duncan-Jones 390, Duncan-Jones and Van Dorsten 208)
{179}
Scaliger, Poetics III.xix.
{180}
Conrad Clauser, preface to 1543 translation of Lucius Annaeus Cornutus,
De natura deorum gentilium. (Duncan- Jones 390) "Quid
non?" is "What
not?"
{181}
Landin: Cristoforo Landino, preface to edition [1481] of Dante
Alighieri, Divina commedia. (Duncan-Jones and Van Dorsten
209)
{182}
"Of a free father born." Horace, Satires I.iv.
{183}
Herculea proles: "descendants of Hercules."
{184}
"If these my numbers have any power." Virgil, Aeneid IX.
{185}
Plinius Secundus, Historia Naturalis XXXVI.v. The sculptor
Bupalus
was driven to kill himself by the recited poetry of Hipponax.
(Duncan-Jones
390)
A Selected Bibliography
Allen, M. J. B.
"Sidney's Defense
and the Image Making of Plato's Sophist." Sir Philip Sidney's
Achievements.
Allen, M. J. B., ed., Baker-Smith, Dominic, ed., Kinney, Arthur F.,
ed.,
Sullivan, Margaret, ed. New York: AMS, 1990. Rhetoric and Plato in the Defence.
Attridge, Derek.
"Puttenham's Perplexity:
Nature, Art, and the Supplement in Renaissance Poetic Theory." Literary
Theory/Renaissance Texts. Parker, Patricia, ed., Quint, David (ed.
& introd.) Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1986. George Puttenham's The
Arte of English Poesie, the Defence, and deconstructionist
theory.
Bergvall, Ake. The
"Enabling of
Judgement": Sir Philip Sidney and the Education of the Reader.
Uppsala:
Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis, 1989, (Studia Anglistica Upsaliensia
70).
The Defence, Plato, Augustine, Aristotle, epistemology and
instruction
theory.
Berry, Edward. "The Poet as
Warrior
in Sidney's Defence of Poetry." SEL: Studies in English Literature,
1500-1900 1989 Winter v29(1). 21-34. Polemics as literary warfare
and
the poet as the exemplary warrior.
Bogdan, Deanne. "Sidney's
Defence
of Plato and the 'Lying' Greek Poets: The Argument from Hypothesis." Classical
and Modern Literature: A Quarterly. 1986 Fall v7(1), 43-54.
Sidney's
understanding of Plato's poetics. Coogan, Robert M. "More Dais Than
Dock:
Greek Rhetoric and Sidney's Encomium on Poetry." Studies in the
Literary
Imagination 1982 Spring v15(1), 99-113. Defence as an
instance
of Classical rhetoric in action.
________________. "The
Triumph of
Reason: Sidney's Defense and Aristotle's Rhetoric." Papers on
Language
and Literature: A Journal for Scholars and Critics of Language and
Literature.
1981 Summer v17(3), 255-270. Sidney and Aristotelian epideictic
rhetoric.
DeNeef, A. Leigh. "Opening
and Closing
the Sidneian Text."Sidney Newsletter 1981 v2(1), 3-6. Textual
criticism
and Defence.
Devereux, James A. "The
Meaning of
Delight in Sidney's Defence of Poesy." Studies in the Literary
Imagination.
1982 Spring v15(1), 85-97.
Doherty, M. J. The
mistress-knowledge:
Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poesie and Literary Architectonics in
the
English Renaissance. Nashville: VUP 1991. Includes bibliography.
Sidney
and epistemology.
Dorsten, Jan van. "How Not
to Open
the Sidneian Text." Sidney Newsletter 1981 v2(2), 4-7. A reply
to
DeNeef on textual criticism of the
Defence.
Duncan-Jones, Katherine,
and Jan Van Dorsten. Miscellaneous Prose of Sir Philip Sidney.
Oxford:
Clarendon, 1973. This prose anthology includes a nicely annotated Defence
with an outline of its encomiastic structure and marginalia to help
keep
the outline in mind.
_______________________. Sir
Philip
Sidney. Oxford: OUP, 1989. This is the most useful of the many
anthologies
of Sidney's poetry and prose. A volume in the Oxford Authors series,
its
notes are comprehensive.
Dundas, Judith. "'To speak
metaphorically':
Sidney in the Subjunctive Mood." Renaissance Quarterly 1988
Summer
v41(2), 268-287. Defence and metaphor.
Fargnoli, Joseph. "Patterns
of Renaissance
Imagination in Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poesie." Massachusetts
Studies in English 1982 v8(3), 36-42. Renaissance theories of the
imagination
and the Defence.
Ferguson, Margaret W. Trials
of
Desire: Renaissance Defenses of Poetry. New Haven: YUP, 1983.
Studies
of Defence and similar works: Du Bellay, Tasso.
Fonesca, Terezinha A. The
'Correlitiue
Knowledge of Thinges': Relations and Intertextuality in 'Astrophil
and Stella' and 'A Defence of Poetry'. Diss. Abs. 1989 Apr.
v49(10),
3032A.
Hamilton, A. C. "Sidney's
Humanism." Sir Philip Sidney's Achievements. Allen, M. J. B.,
ed.,
Baker-Smith,
Dominic, ed., Kinney, Arthur F., ed. Sullivan, Margaret, ed. New York:
AMS, 1990. Defence as a late Renaissance document.
______________. Sir
Philip Sidney:
a Study of His Life and Works. Cambridge: CUP, 1977. A standard
biography
and literary introduction.
Heninger, S. K., Jr.
"'Metaphor'
and Sidney's Defence of Poesie." John Donne Journal: Studies in the
Age of Donne. 1982 v1(1-2), 117-149. Mimesis and metaphor,
Aristotle's Poetics
and Rhetoric, and the Defence.
___________________.
"Sidney and
Boethian Music" SEL: Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900.
1983
Winter v23(1), 37-46. Boethius, Plato, Aristotle, mimesis, and Defence.
___________________.
"Sidney and
Serranus' Plato." English Literary Renaissance. 1983 Spring
v13(2),
146-161. The Defence and Plato, Serres, Estienne, and
translation.
See also: 27-44 in Sidney in Retrospect: Selections from English
Literary
Renaissance. Kinney, Arthur F., ed.. Amherst: UMP; 1988.
___________________.
"Speaking Pictures:
Sidney's Rapprochement between Poetry and Painting." Sir Philip
Sidney
and the Interpretation of Renaissance Culture: The Poet in His Time and
in Ours: A Collection of Critical and Scholarly Essays. Waller,
Gary
F., ed., Moore, Michael D., ed. Totowa, NJ: Barnes & Noble, 1984.
The Defence,
Aristotle's Poetics, and critical theory.
Herman, Peter C. "'Do As I
Say, Not
As I Do': The Apology for Poetry and Sir Philip Sidney's Letters to
Edward
Denny and Robert Sidney." Sidney Newsletter 1989 v10(1), 13-24.
Sidney's poetics reflects humanistic education, especially as touching
upon morality. Correspondence shows the same influence.
Hunt, John. "Allusive
Coherence in
Sidney's Apology for Poetry." SEL: Studies in English Literature,
1500-1900
1987 Winter v27(1), 1-16. Coherence and ambiguity in the Defence.
Hunter, C. Stuart. "Erected
Wit and
Infected Will: Sidney's Poetic Theory and Poetic Practice." Sidney
Newsletter
1984 Fall- Winter v5(2), 3-10. The Defence and Astrophil
and Stella.
Kimbrough, Robert. Sir
Philip
Sidney. New York: Twayne, 1971. A volume in the Twayne English
Authors
series. Biography, literary history, criticism. With annotated
bibliography.
Kouwenhoven, Jan Karel.
"Sidney,
Leicester, and The
Faerie Queene." Sir Philip Sidney: 1586 and the Creation of a
Legend.
Dorsten, Jan van, ed. Baker-Smith, Dominic (ed. & pref.) Kinney,
Arthur
F. (ed. & pref.) Leiden: Brill, 1986. Discusses connection between Defence
and Sidney's partisanship with Leicester at
Court.
Martin, Christopher.
"Sidney's Defence:
The Art of Slander and the Slander of Art." Sidney Newsletter
1988
v9(1) p3-10. The encomium as polemics.
Miller, Anthony. "Sidney's
Apology
for Poetry and Plutarch's Moralia." English Literary Renaissance
1987 Autumn v17(3), 259-276. Plutarch as a source in French.
Myrick, Kenneth O. Sir
Philip
Sidney as a Literary Craftsman. Cambridge, MA: HUP, 1935. The
classic
study of Sidney and Castiglione.
Payne, Paula H.
"Aristotle's Rhetoric:
'Matter' and 'Manner' in Sidney's Sonnet Sequence, Astrophil
and Stella, and in His Defence of Poesie." Diss Abs.
1988
Aug. v49(2), 260A.
______________. "Tracing
Aristotle's
Rhetoric in Sir Philip Sidney's Poetry and Prose." Rhetoric Society
Quarterly 1990 Summer v20(3). 241-250, The Rhetoric in both
the Defence and in Astrophil
and Stella.
Pears, Stewart A., ed. The
Correspondence
of Sir Philip Sidney and Hubert Languet. London: Pickering, 1845.
Continental
humanists continued in the tradition of Erasmus in guiding the bright
stars
of English literature, as exemplified by Languet's friendship with
Sidney.
Prescott, Anne L. "King
David as
a 'Right Poet': Sidney and the Psalmist." English Literary
Renaissance
1989 Spring v19(3), 131-151. The Book of Psalms and Sidney's
poetics.
Qiu, Zihua. "The Aesthetic
Manifesto
of English Humanism: On Sidney's Defence of Poesie." Foreign Lit.
Studies.
1986 Mar. v31(1), 9,49-54. China. Defence as a document of the
Renaissance
humanist tradition.
Raitiere, Martin N. "The
Unity of
Sidney's Apology for Poetry." SEL: Studies in English Literature.
1981 Winter v21(1), 37-57.
Reichert, John. "Do Poets
Ever Mean
What They Say?" New Literary History: A Journal of Theory and
Interpretation.
1981 Autumn v8(1), 53-68. How literary conventions mask the power
gestures
of authors.
Robinson, Forrest G. The
Shape
of Things Known; Sidney's Apology in its Philosophical Tradition.
Cambridge,
MA: HUP, 1972. Sidney and epistemology.
Schleiner, Louise. "Spenser
and Sidney
on the Vaticinium." Spenser Studies: A Renaissance Poetry Annual.
1985 v6, 129-45. The
Shepheardes Calender and the Defence on vaticinium.
Sidney, Sir Philip. The
Defense
of Poesie. London: Ponsonby, 1595. Reprinted in facsimile by The
Scolar
Press, Menston, 1968. Used for the present edition.
__________________. The
Norwich
Sidney Manuscript: The Apology for Poetry. Mahl, Mary R., ed.
Northridge,
CA: SFVSC, 1969. This is the official transcription of the famous
Sidney
manuscript that was found in 1960, mis-shelved as "A Treatise of
Horseman
Shipp." While not holograph, nor even of so early date as the Ponsonby
edition, it was copied from another ms., possibly from Sidney's
original,
and is of great value to scholarship.
_________________.Prose
works.
Feuillerat, Albert, ed. Cambridge: CUP, 1962. 4 vols. (First edition
appeared
1912-26). Useful as primary source.
__________________. The
works
of the Honourable Sir Philip Sidney, kt. London: 1724-1725. 3 vols.
A standard collection from days gone by.
Sinfield, Alan. "The
Cultural Politics
of the Defence of Poetry." Sir Philip Sidney and the Interpretation
of Renaissance Culture: The Poet in His Time and in Ours: A Collection
of Critical and Scholarly Essays. Waller, Gary F., ed., Moore,
Michael
D., ed. Totowa, NJ: Barnes & Noble, 1984. Pagan literature and
Puritanism.
Gerald. "Dissociation of
Sensibility
and the Apology for Poetry in the Twentieth Century." Studies in
the
Literary Imagination 1982 Spring v15(1), 115-128. Eliot, New
Criticism,
and Sidney.
Donald V. "Sidney's Concept
of Tragedy
in the Apology and in the Arcadia." Studies in Philology. 1982
Winter
v79(2), 41-61. Aristotle, the Arcadia, George Buchanan, tragedy
and comedy.
Ulreich, John C., Jr.
"'The
Poets Only Deliver': Sidney's Conception of Mimesis." Studies in
the
Literary Imagination. 1982 Spring v15(1), 67-84. The failure of the
literal and its inevitable absorption into the mimetic and
metaphorical.
Voss, A. E. "The 'Right
Poet' in Astrophil
and
Stella." Unisa English Studies: Journal of the Department of
English
1986 Sept. v24(2), 7-10. Defence and Astrophil and Stella.
Wallace, Malcolm. W. The
Life
of Sir Philip Sidney. Cambridge: CUP, 1915. Still the standard
biography.
Sympathetic, but with a minimum of the enthusiast's distortion.
Webster, John. William
Temple's
Analysis of Sir Philip Sidney's Apology for Poetry. Binghamton:
Medieval
& Renaissance Texts & Studies 32. 1984. Discussion of Sir
William
Temple's Analysis Tractationis de Poesi Contextae a Nobilissimo
Viro
Philippe Sidneio Equite Aurato.
Weiner, Andrew D. "Sidney,
Protestantism,
and Literary Critics: Reflections on Some Recent Criticism of The
Defense
of Poetry." Sir Philip Sidney's Achievements. Allen, M. J. B.,
ed.,
Baker- Smith, Dominic, ed. Kinney, Arthur F., ed., Sullivan, Margaret,
ed. New York: AMS, 1990. The continuing influence of Gosson's
attitude.
________________. Sir
Philip Sidney
and the Poetics of Protestantism : a Study of Contexts.
Minneapolis,
MN: UMP, 1978. Includes bibliography. Puritans and Poetics.
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