University of Virginia Library

THE THIRD BOOKE, OF ORNAMENT.

3.1. Of Ornament Poeticall.

As no doubt the good proportion of any thing doth greatly adorne and commend it and right so our late remembred proportions doe to our vulgar Poesie: so is there yet requisite to the perfection of this arte, another maner of exornation, which resteth in the fashioning of our makers language and stile, to such purpose as it may delight and allure as well the mynde as the eare of the hearers with a certaine noueltie and strange maner of conueyance, disguising it no litle from the ordinary and accustomed: neuerthelesse making it nothing the more vnseemely or misbecomming, but rather decenter and more agreable to any ciuill eare and vnderstanding. And as we see in these great Madames of honour, be they for personage or otherwise neuer so comely and bewtifull, yet if they want their courtly habillements or at leastwise such other apparell as custome and ciuilitie haue ordained to couer their naked bodies, would be halfe ashamed or greatly out of countenaunce to be seen in that sort, and perchance do then thinke themselues more amiable in euery mans eye, when they be in their richest attire, suppose of silkes or tyssewes & costly embroderies, then when they go in cloth or in any other plaine and simple apparell. Euen so cannot our vulgar Poesie shew it selfe either gallant or gorgious, if any lymme be left naked and bare and not clad in his kindly clothes and colours, such as my conuey them somwhat out of sight, that is from the common course of ordinary

speach and capacitie of the vulgar iudgement, and yet being artificially handled must needes yeld it much more bewtie and commendation. This ornament we speake of is giuen to it by figures and figuratiue speaches, which be the flowers as it were and coulours that a Poet setteth vpon his language by arte, as the embroderer doth his stone and perle, or passements of gold vpon the stuffe of a Princely garment, or as th'excellent painter bestoweth the rich Orient coulours vpon his table of pourtraite: so neuerthelesse as if the same coulours in our arte of Poesie (as well as in those other mechanicall artes) be not well tempered, or not well layd, or be vsed in excesse, or neuer so litle disordered or misplaced, they not onely giue it no maner of grace at all, but rather do disfigure the stuffe and spill the whole workmanship taking away all bewtie and good liking from it, no lesse then if the crimson tainte, which should be laid vpon a Ladies lips, or right in the center of her cheekes should by some ouersight or mishap be applied to her forhead or chinne, it would make (ye would say) but a very ridiculous bewtie, wherfore the chief prayse and cunning of our Poet is in the discreet vsing of his figures, as the skilfull painters is in the good conueyance of his coulours and shadowing traits of his pensill, with a delectable varietie, by all measure and iust proportion, and in places most aptly to be bestowed.

3.2. How our writing and speaches publike ought to be figuratiue, and if they be not doe greatly disgrace the cause and purpose of the speaker and writer.

Bvt as it hath bene alwayes reputed a great fault to vse figuratiue speaches foolishly and indiscretly, so is it esteemed no lesse an imperfection in mans vtterance, to haue none vse of figure at all, specially in our writing and speaches publike, making them but as our ordinary talke, then which nothing can be more vnsauourie and farre from all ciuilitie. I remember in the first yeare of Queenes Maries raigne a Knight of Yorkshire was chosen speaker of the Parliament, a good gentleman and wise, in the affaires of his shire, and not vnlearned in the lawes of the Realme, but as well for some lack of his teeth, as for want of language nothing

well spoken, which at that time and businesse was most behooffull for him to haue bene: this man after he had made his Oration to the Queene; which ye know is of course to be done at the first assembly of both houses; a bencher of the Temple both well learned and very eloquent, returning from the Parliament house asked another gentleman his frend how he liked M. Speakers Oration: many quoth th'other, me thinks I heard not a better alehouse tale told this seuen yeares. This happened because the good old Knight made no difference betweene an Oration or publike speach to be deliuered to th'eare of a Princes Maiestie and state of a Realme, then he would haue done of an ordinary tale to be told at his table in the contrey, wherein all men know the oddes is very great. And though graue and wise counsellours in their consultations doe not vse much superfluous eloquence, and also in their iudiciall hearings do much mislike all scholasticall rhetoricks: yet in such a case as it may be (and as this Parliament was) if the Lord Chancelour of England or Archibishop of Canterbury himselfe were to speake, he ought to doe it cunningly and eloquently, which can not be without the vse of figures: and neuerthelesse none impeachment or blemish to the grauitie of their persons or of the cause: wherein I report me to them that knew Sir Nicholas Bacon Lord keeper of the great Seale, or now Lord Treasorer of England, and haue bene conuersant with their speaches made in the Parliament house & Starrechamber. From whose lippes I haue seene to proceede more graue and naturall eloquence, then from all the Oratours of Oxford or Cambridge, but all is as it is handled, and maketh no matter whether the same eloquence be naturall to them or artificiall (though I thinke rather naturall) yet were they knowen to be learned and not vnskilfull of th'arte, when they were yonger men: and as learning and arte teacheth a scholar to speake, so doeth it also teach a counsellour, and aswell an old man as a yong, and a man in authoritie, aswell as a priuate person, and a pleader aswell as a preacher, euery man after his sort and calling as best becommeth: and that speach which becommeth one, doth not become another, for maners of speaches, some serue to work in excesse, some in mediocritie, some to graue purposes, some to light, some to be short and brief, some to be long, some to stirre vp affections, some to pacifie and appease them, and these common despisers of good vtterance, which resteth altogether in figuratiue speaches, being well vsed whether it come by nature or by arte or by exercise, they be but certaine grosse ignorance of whom it is truly spoken scientia non habet inimicum nisi ignorantem. I haue come to the Lord Keeper Sir Nicholas Bacon, & found him fitting in his gallery alone with the works of Quintilian before him, in deede he was a most eloquent man, and of rare learning and wisedome, as euer I knew England to breed, and one that ioyed as much in learned men and men of good witts. A Knight of the Queenes priuie chamber, once intreated a noble woman of the Court, being in great fauour about her Maiestie (to th'intent to remoue her from a certaine displeasure, which by sinister opinion she had conceiued against a gentleman his friend) that it would please her to heare him speake in his own cause, & not to condemne him vpon his aduersaries report: God forbid said she, he is to wise for me to talke with, let him goe and satisfie such a man naming him: why quoth the Knight againe, had our Ladyship rather heare a man talke like a foole or like a wise man? This was because the Lady was a litle peruerse, and not disposed to reforme her selfe by hearing reason, which none other can so well beate into the ignorant head, as the well spoken and eloquent man. And because I am so farre waded into this discourse of eloquence and figuratiue speaches, I will tell you what hapned on a time my selfe being present when certaine Doctours of the ciuil law were heard in a litigious cause betwixt a man and his wife: before a great Magistrat who (as they can tell that knew him) was a man very well learned and graue, but somewhat fowre, and of no plausible vtterance: the gentlemans chaunce, was to say: my Lord the simple woman is not so much to blame as her lewde abbettours, who by violent perswasions haue lead her into this wilfulnesse. Quoth the iudge, what neede such eloquent termes in this place, the gentleman replied, doth your Lordship mislike the terme, [violent] & me thinkes I speake it to great purpose: for I am sure she would neuer haue done it, but by force of perswasion: & if perswasions were not very violent to the minde of man it could not haue wrought so strange an effect as we read that it did once in Ae gypt, & would haue told the whole tale at large, if the Magistrate had not passed it ouer very pleasantly. Now to tell you the whole matter as the gentleman intended, thus it was. There came into Aegypt a notable Oratour, whose name was Hegesias who inueyed so much against the incommodities of this transitory life, & so highly commended death the dispatcher of all euils; as a great number of his hearers destroyed themselues, some with weapon, some with poyson, others by drowning and hanging themselues to be rid out of this vale of misery, in so much as it was feared least many moe of the people would haue miscaried by occasion of his perswasions, if king Ptolome had not made a publicke proclamation, that the Oratour should auoyde the countrey, and no more be allowed to speake in any matter. Whether now perswasions, may not be said violent and forcible to simple myndes in speciall, I referre it to all mens iudgements that heare the story. At least waies, I finde this opinion, confirmed by a pretie deuise or embleme that Lucianus alleageth he saw in the pourtrait of Hercules within the Citie of Marseills in Prouence: where they had figured a lustie old man with a long chayne tyed by one end at his tong, by the other end at the peoples eares, who stood a farre of and seemed to be drawen to him by the force of that chayne fastned to his tong, as who would say, by force of his perswasions. And to shew more plainly that eloquence is of great force (and not as many men thinke amisse) the propertie and gift of yong men onely, but rather of old men, and a thing which better becommeth hory haires then beardlesse boyes, they seeme to ground it vpon this reason: age (say they and most truly) beings experience, experience bringeth wisedome, long life yeldes long vse and much exercise of speach, exercise and custome with wisedome, make an assured and volluble vtterance: so is ti that old men more then any other sort speake most grauely, wisely, assuredly, and plausibly, which partes are all that can be required in perfite eloquence, and so in all deliberations of importance where counsellours are allowed freely to opyne & shew their conceits, good perswasion is no lesse requisite then speach it selfe: for in great purposes to speake and not be able or likely to perswade, is a vayne thing: now let vs returne backe to say more of this Poeticall ornament.

3.3. How ornament Poeticall is of two sortes according to the double vertue and efficacie of figures.

This ornament then is of two sortes, one to satisfie & delight th'eare onely by a goodly outward shew se vpon the matter with wordes, and speaches smothly and tunably running: another by certaine intendments or sence of such wordes & speaches inwardly working a stirre to the mynde: that first qualitie the Greeks called Enargia, of this word argos, because it geueth a glorious lustre and light. This latter they called Energia of ergon, because it wrought with a strong and vertuous operation; and figure breedeth them both, some seruing to giue glosse onely to a language, some to geue it efficacie by sence, and so by that meanes some of them serue th'eare onely, some serue the conceit onely and not th'eare: there be of them also that serue both turnes as common seruitours appointed for th'one and th'other purpose, which shalbe hereafter spoken of in place: but because we haue alleaged before that ornament is but the good or rather bewtifull habite of language and stile, and figuratiue speaches the instrument wherewith we burnish our language fashioning it to this or that measure and proportion, whence finally resulteth a long and continuall phrase or maner of writing or speach, which we call by the name of stile: we wil first speake of language, then of stile, lastly of figure, and declare their vertue and differences, and also their vse and best application, & what portion in exornation euery of them bringeth to the bewtifying of this Arte.

3.4. Of Language.

Speach is not naturall to man sauing for his onely habilitie to speake, and that he is by kinde apt to vtter all his conceits with sounds and voyces diuersified many maner of wayes, by meanes of the many & fit instruments he hath by nature to that purpose, as a broad and voluble tong, thinne and mouable lippes, teeth euen and not shagged, thick ranged, a round vaulted pallate, and a long throte, besides and excellent capacitie of wit that maketh him more disciplinable and imitatiue then any other creature: then as to the

forme and action of his speach, it commeth to him by arte & teaching, and by vse or exercise. But after a speach is fully fashioned to the common vnderstanding, & accepted by consent of a whole countrey & nation, it is called a language, & receaueth none allowed alteration, but by extraordinary occasions by little & little, as it were insensibly bringing in of many corruptions that creepe along with the time: of all which matters, we haue more largely spoken in our bookes of the originals and pedigree of the English tong. Then when I say language, I meane the speach wherein the Poet or maker writeth be it Greek or Latine or as our case is the vulgar English, & when it is peculiar vnto a countrey it is called the mother speach of that people: the Greekes terme it Idioma: so is ours at this day the Norman English. Before the Conquest of the Normans it was the Anglesaxon, and before that the British, which as some will, is at this day, the Walsh, or as others affirme the Cornish: I for my part thinke neither of both, as they be now spoken and pronounced. This part in our maker or Poet must be heedyly looked vnto, that it be naturall, pure, and the most vsuall of all his countrey: and for the same purpose rather that which is spoken in the kings Court, or in the good townes and Cities within the land, then in the marches and frontiers, or in port townes, where straungers haunt for traffike sake, or yet in Vniuersities where Scholers vse much peeuish affectation of words out of the primatiue languages, or finally, in any vplandish village or corner of a Realme, where is no resort but of poore rusticall or vnciuill people: neither shall he follow the speach of a craftes man or carter, or other of the inferiour sort, though he be inhabitant or bred in the best town and Citie in this Realme, for such persons do abuse good speaches by strange accents or illshapen soundes, and false ortographie. But he shall follow generally the better brought vp sort, such as the Greekes call [charientes] men ciuill and graciously behauoured and bred. Our maker therfore at these dayes shall not follow Piers plowman nor Gower nor Lydgate nor yet Chaucer, for their language is now out of vse with vs: neither shall he take the termes of Northern-men, such as they vse in dayly talke, whether they be noble men or gentlemen, or of their best clarkes all is a matter: nor in effect any speach vsed beyond the riuer of Trent, though no man can deny but that theirs is the purer English Saxon at this day, yet it is not so Courtly nor so currant as our Southerne English is, no more is the far Westerne mans speach: ye shall therfore take the vsuall speach of the Court, and that of London and the shires lying about London within lx. myles, and not much aboue. I say not this but that in euery shyre of England there be gentlemen and others that speake but specially write as good Southerne as we of Middlesex or Surrey do, but not the common people of euery shire, to whom the gentlemen, and also their learned clarkes do for the most part condescend, but herein we are already ruled by th'English Dictionaries and other bookes written by learned men, and therefore it needeth none other direction in that behalfe. Albeit peraduenture some small admonition be not impertinent, for we finde in our English writers many wordes and speaches amendable, & ye shall see in some many inkhorne termes so ill affected brought in by men of learning as preachers and schoolemasters: and many straunge termes of other languages by Secretaries and Marchaunts and trauailours, and many darke wordes and not vsuall nor well sounding, though they be dayly spoken in Court. Wherefore great heed must be taken by our maker in this point that his choise be good. And peraduenture the writer hereof be in that behalfe no lesse faultie then any other, vsing many straunge and vnaccustomed wordes and borrowed from other languages: and in that respect him selfe no meete Magistrate to reforme the same errours in any other person, but since he is not vnwilling to acknowledge his owne fault, and can the better tell how to amend it, he may seeme a more excusable correctour of other mens: he intendeth therefore for an indifferent way and vniuersall benefite to taxe him selfe first and before any others.

These be wordes vsed by th'author in this present treatise, scientificke, but with some reason, for it aunswereth the word mechanicall, which no other word could haue done so properly, for when hee spake of all artificers which rest either in science or in handy craft, it followed necessarilie that scientifique should be coupled with mechanicall: or els neither of both to haue bene allowed, but in their places: a man of science liberall, and a handicrafts man, which

had not bene so cleanly a speech as the other Maior-domo: in truth this word is borrowed of the Spaniard and Italian, and therefore new and not vsuall, but to them that are acquainted with the affaires of Court: and so for his iolly magnificence (as this case is) may be accepted among Courtiers, for whom this is specially written. A man might haue said in steade of Maior-domo, the French word (maistre d'hostell but ilfauouredly, or the right English word (Lord Steward). But me thinks for my owne opinion this word Maior-domo though he be borrowed, is more acceptable than any of the rest, other man may iudge otherwise. Politien this word also is receiued from the Frenchmen, but at this day vsuall in Court and with all good Secretaries: and cannot finde an English word to match him, for to haue said a man politique, had not bene so wel: bicause in trueth that had bene no more than to haue said a ciuil person. Politien is rather a surueyour of ciuilitie than ciuil, & a publique minister or Counseller in the state. Ye haue also this worde Conduict, a French word, but well allowed of vs, and long since vsuall, it soundes somewhat more that this word (leading) for it is applied onely to the leading of a Captaine, and not as a little boy should leade a blinde man, therefore more proper to the case when he saide, conduict of whole armies: ye finde also this word Idiome, taken from the Greekes, yet seruing aptly, when a man wanteth to expresse so much vnles it be in two words, which surplussage to auoide, we are allowed to draw in other words single, and asmuch significatiue: this word significatiue is borrowed of the Latine and French, but to vs brought in first by some Noble-mans Secretarie, as I thinke, yet doth so well serue the turne, as it could not now be spared: and many more like vsurped Latine and French words: as, Methode, methodicall, placation, function, assubtiling, refining, compendious, prolixe, figuratiue, inueigle. A terme borrowed of our common Lawyers. impression, also a new terme, but well expressing the matter, and more than our English word. These words, Numerous, numerositee, metricall, harmonicall, but they cannot be refused, specially in this place for description of the arte. Also ye finde these words, penetrate, penetrable, indignitie, which I cannot see how we may speare the, whatsoeuer fault wee finde with Ink-horne ermes: for our speach wanteth wordes to such sence so well to be vsed: yet in steade of indignitie, ye haue vnworthinesse: and for penetrate, we may say peerce, and that a French terme also, or broche, or enter into with violence, but not so well sounding as penetrate. Item, sauage, for wilde: obscure, for darke. Item these words, declination, delineation, dimention, are scholasticall termes in deede, and yet very proper. But peraduenture (& I could bring a reason for it) many other like words borrowed out of the Latine and French, were not so well to be allowed by vs, as these words, audacious, for bold: facunditie, for eloquence: egregious, for great or notable: implete, for replenished: attemptat, for attempt: compatible, for agreeable in nature, and many more. But herein the noble Poet Horace hath said inough to satisfie vs in all these few verses.

Which I haue thus englished, but nothing with so good grace, nor so briefly as the Poet wrote.

3.5. Of Stile.

Stile is a constant & continuall phrase or tenour of speaking and writing, extending to the whole tale or processe of the poeme or historie, and not properly to any peece or member of a tale: but is of words speeches and sentences together, a certaine contriued forme and qualitie, many times naturall to the writer, many times his peculier by election and arte, and such as either he keepeth by skill, or holdeth on by ignorance, and will not or peraduenture cannot easily alter into any other. So we say that Ciceroes stile, and Salusts were not one, nor Cesars and Liuies, nor Homers and Hesiodus, nor Herodotus and Theucidides, nor Europides & Aristophanes, nor Erasmus and Budeus stiles. And because this continuall course and manner of writing or speech sheweth the

matter and disposition of the writers minde, more than one or few words or sentences can shew, therefore there be that haue called stile, the image of man [mentus character] for man is but his minde, and as him minde is tempered and qualified, so are his speeches and language at large, and his inward conceits be the mettall of his minde, and his manner of vtterance the very warp & woofe of his conceits, more plaine, or busie and intricate, or otherwise affected after the rate. Most men say that not any one point in all Phisiognomy is so certaine, as to iudge a mans manners by his eye: but more assuredly in mine opinion, by his dayly maner of speech and ordinary writing. For if the man be graue, his speech and stile is graue: if light-headed, his stile and language also light: if the mine be haughtie and hoate, the speech and stile is also vehement and stirring: if it be colde and temperate, the stile is also very modest: if it be humble, or base and meeke, so is also the language and stile. And yet peraduenture not altogether so, but that euery mans stile is for the most part according to the matter and subiect of the writer, or so ought to be, and conformable thereunto. Then againe may it be said as well, that men doo chuse their subiects according to the mettal of their minds, & therfore a high minded man chuseth him high & lofty matter to write of. The base courage, matter base & lowe, the meane & modest mind, meane & moderate matters after the rate. Howsoeuer it be, we finde that vnder these three principall complexions (if I may with leaue so terme them) high, meane and base stile, there be contained many other humors or qualities of stile, as the plaine and obscure, the rough and smoth, the facill and hard, the plentifull and barraine, the rude and eloquent, the strong and feeble, the vehement and cold stiles, all which in their euill are to be reformed, and the good to be kept and vsed. But generally to haue the stile decent & comely it behooueth the maker or Poet to follow the nature of his subiect, that is if his matter be high and loftie that the stile be so to, if meane, the stile also to be meane, if base the stile humble and base accordingly: and they that do otherwise vse it, applying to meane matter, hie and loftie stile, and to hie matters, stile eyther meane or base, and to the base matters, the meane or hie stile, to vtterly disgrace their poesie and shew themselues nothing skilfull in their arte, nor hauing regard to the decencie, which is the chiefe praise of any writer. Therefore to ridde all louers of learning from that errour, I will as neere as I can set downe, which matters be the hie and loftie, which be but meane, and which be low and base, to the intent the stiles, may be fashioned to the matters, and keepe their decorum and good proportion in euery respect: I am not ignorant that many good clerkes be contrary to mine opinion, and say that the loftie style may be decently vsed in a meane and base subiect & contrariwise, which I do in parte acknowledge, but with a reasonable qualification. For Homer hath so vsed it in his trifling worke of Batrachomyomachia: that is in his treatise of the warre betwext the frogs and the mice. Virgill also in his bucolickes, and in his georgicks, whereof the one is counted meane, the other base, that is the husbandmans discourses and the shepheards, but hereunto serueth a reason in my simple conceite: for first to that trifling poeme of Homer, though the frog and the mouse be but litle and ridiculous beasts, yet to treat of warre is an high subiect, and a thing in euery respect terrible and daungerous to them that it alights on: and therefore of learned dutie asketh martiall grandiloquence, if it be set foorth in his kind and nature of warre, euen betwixt the basest creatures that can be imagined: so also is the Ante or pismire, and they be but little creeping things, not perfect beasts, but insects, or wormes: yet in describing their nature & instinct, and their manner of life approching to the forme of a common-welth, and their properties not vnlike to the vertues of most excellent gouernors and captaines, it asketh a more maiestie of speach then would the description of any other beastes life or nature, and perchance of many matters perteyning vnto the baser sort of men, because it resembleth the historie of a ciuill regiment, and of them all the chiefe and most principall which is Monarchie: so also in his bucolicks, which are but pastorall speaches and the basest of any other poeme in their owne proper nature: Virgill vsed a somewhat swelling stile when eh came to insinuate the birth of Marcellus heire apparant to the Emperour Augustus, as child to his sister, aspiring by hope and greatnes of the house, to the succession of the Empire, and establishment thereof in that familie: whereupon Virgill could do no lesse then to vse such manner of stile, whatsoeuer condition the poeme were of and this was decent, & no fault or blemish, to confound the tennors of the stiles for that cause. But now when I remember me againe that this Eglogue, (for I haue read it somewhere) was conceiued by Octauian th'Emperour to be written to the honour of Pollio a citizen of Rome, & of no great nobilitie, the same was misliked againe as an implicatiue, nothing decent nor proportionable to Pollio his fortunes and calling, in which respect I might say likewise the stile was not to be such as if it had bene for the Emperours own honour, and those of the bloud imperiall, then which subiect there could not be among the Romane writers an higher nor grauer to treat vpon: so can I not be remoued from mine opinion, but still me thinks that in all decencie the stile ought to conforme with the nature of the subiect, otherwise if a writer will seeme to obserue no decorum at all, nor passe how he fashion his tale to his matter, who doubteth but he may in the lightest cause speake like a Pope, & in the grauest matters prate like a parrat, & finde wordes & phrases ynough to serue both turnes, and neither of them commendably, for neither is all that may be written of Kings and Princes such as ought to keepe a high stile, nor all that may be written vpon a shepheard to keepe the low, but according to the matter reported, if that be of high or base nature: for euer pety pleasure, and vayne delight of a king are not to accompted high matter for the height of his estate, but meane and perchaunce very base and vile: nor so a Poet or historiographer, could decently with a high stile reporte the vanities of Nero, the ribaudries of Caligula, the idlenes of Domitian, & the riots of Heliogabalus. But well the magnimitie and honorable ambition of Caesar, the prosperities of Augustus, the grauitie of Tiberius, the bountie of Traiane, the wisedome of Aurelius, and generally all that which concerned the highest honours of Emperours, their birth, alliaunces, gouernement, exploits in warre and peace, and other publike affaires: for they be matter stately and high, and require a stile to be lift vp and aduanced by choyse of wordes, phrases, sentences, and figures, high, loftie, eloquent & magnifik in proportion: so be the meane matters, to be caried with all wordes and speaches of smothnesse and pleasant moderation, & finally the base things to be holden within their teder, by a low, myld, and simple maner of vtterance, creeping rather then clyming, & marching rather then mounting vpwardes, with the wings of the stately subiects and stile.

3.6. Of the high, low, and meane subiect.

The matters therefore that concerne the Gods and diuine things are highest of all other to be couched in writing, next to them the noble gests and great fortunes of Princes, and the notable accidents of time, as the greatest affaires of war & peace, these be all high subiectes, and therefore are deliuered ouer to the Poets Hymnick & historicall who be occupied either in diuine laudes, or in heroicall reports: the meane matters be those that concerne meane men their life and busines, as layers, gentlemen, and merchants, good housholders and honest Citizens, and which found neither to matters of state nor of warre, nor leagues, nor great alliances, but smatch all the common conuersation, as of the ciuiller and better sort of men: the base and low matters be the doings of the common artificer, seruingman, yeoman, groome, husbandman, day-labourer, sailer, shepheard, swynard, and such like of homely calling, degree and bringing vp: so that in euery of the sayd three degrees not the selfe same vertues be egally to be praysed nor the same vices, egally to be dispraised, nor their loues, mariages, quarels, contracts and other behauiours, be like high nor do require to be set fourth with the like stile: but euery one in his degree and decencie, which made that all hymnes and histories, and Tragedies, were written in the high stile: all Comedies and Enterludes and other common Poesies of loues, and such like in the meane stile, some to the base or meane, some common to all three, as shalbe declared more at large hereafter when we come to speake of figure and phrase: also some wordes and speaches and sentences doe become the high stile, that do not become th'other two. And contrariwise, as shalbe said when we talke of words and sentences: finally some kinde of measure and concord, doe not beseeme the high stile, that well become the meane and low, as we haue said spea

king of concord and measure. But generally the high stile is disgraced and made foolish and ridiculous by all wordes affected, counterfait, and puffed vp, as it were a windball carrying more countenance then matter, and can not be better resembled then to these midsommer pageants in London, where to make the people wonder are set forth great and vglie Gyants marching as if they were aliue, and armed at all points, but within they are stuffed full of browne paper and tow, which the shrewd boyes and vnderpeering, do guilefully discouer and turne to a great derision: also all darke and vnaccustomed workes, or rusticall and homely, and sentences that hold too much of the mery & light, or infamous & vnshamefast are to accounted of the same sort, for such speaches become not Princes, nor great estates, nor them that write of their doings to vtter or report and intermingle with the graue and weightie matters.

3.7. Of Figures and figuratiue speaches.

As figures be the instruments of ornament in euery language, so be they also in a sorte abuses or rather trespasses in speach, because they passe the ordinary limits of common vtterance, and be occupied of purpose to deceiue the eare and also the minde, drawing it from plainnesse and simplicitie to a certaine doubleness, whereby our talke is the more guilefull & abusing, for what els is your Metaphor but an inuersion of sence by transport; your allegorie by a duplicitie of meaning or dissimulation vnder couert and darke intendments: one while by common prouerbe or Adage called Paremia: then by merry skoffe called Irona: then by bitter tawnt called Sarcasmus: then by periphrase or circumlocution when all might be said in a word or two: then by incredible comparison giuing credit, as by your Hyperbole, and many other waies seeking to inueigle and appassionate the mind: which thing made the graue iudges Areopagites (as I find written) to forbid all manner of figuratiue speaches to be vsed before them in their consistorie of Iustice, as meere illusions to the minde, and wresters of vpright iudgement, saying that to allow such manner of forraine & couloured talke to make the iudges affectioned, were

all one as if the carpenter before he began to square his timber would make his squire coroked: in so much as the straite and vpright mind of a Iudge is the very rule of iustice till it be peruerted by affection. This no doubt is true and was by them grauely considered: but in this case because our maker or Poet is appointed not for a iudge, but rather for a pleader, and that of pleasant & louely causes and nothing perillous, such as be those for the triall of life, limme, or liuelyhood; and before iudges neither sower nor seuere, but in the eare of princely dames, yong ladies, gentlewomen and courtiers, beying all for the most part either meeke of nature, or of pleasant humour, and that all his abuses tende but to dispose the hearers to mirth and sollace by pleasant conueyance and efficacy of speach, they are not in truth to be accompted vices but for vertues in the poetical science very commendable. On the other side, such trespasses in speach (whereof there be many) as geue dolour and disliking to the eare & minde, by any foule indecencie or disproportion of sound, situation, or sence, they be called and not without cause the vicious parts or rather heresies of language: wherefore the matter resteth much in the definition and acceptance of this word [decorum] for whatsoeuer is so, cannot iustly be misliked. In which respect it may come to passe that what the Grammarian setteth down for a viciositee in speach may become a vertue and no vice, contrariwise his commended figure may fall into a reprochfull fault: the best and most assured remedy whereof is, generally to follow the saying of Bias: ne quid nimis. So as in keeping measure, and not exceeding nor shewing any defect in the vse of his figures, he cannot lightly do amisse, if he haue besides (as that must needes be) a speciall regard to all circumstances of the person, place, time, cause and purpose he hath in hand, which being well obserued it easily auoideth all the recited inconueniences, and maketh now and then very vice goe for a formall vertue in the exercise of this Arte.

3.8. Sixe points set downe by our learned forefathers for a generall regiment of all good utterance be it by mouth or by writing.

Bvt before there had bene yet any precise obseruation made of figuratiue speeches, the first learned artificers of language considered

that the bewtie and good grace of vtterance rested in no many pointes: and whatsoeuer transgressed those lymits, they counted it for vitious; and thereupon did set downe a manner of regiment in all speech generally to be obserued, consisting in sixe pointes. First they said that there ought to be kept a decent proportion in our writings and speach, which they termed Analogia. Secondly, that it ought to be voluble vpon the tongue, and tunable to the eare, which they called Tasis. Thirdly, that it were not tediously long, but briefe and compendious, as the matter might beare, which they called Syntomia. Fourthly, that it should cary an orderly and good construction, which they called Synthesis. Fiftly, that it should be a sound, proper and naturall speach, which they called Curiologia. Sixtly, that it should be liuely & stirring, which they called Tropus. So as it appeareth by this order of theirs, that no vice could be committed in speech, keeping within the bounds of that restraint. Bit sir, all this being by them very well conceiued, there remayned a greater difficultie to know what this proportion, volubilitie, good construction, & the rest were, otherwise we could not be euer the more relieued. It was therefore of necessitie that a more curious and particular description should bee made of euery manner of speech, either transgressing or agreeing with their said generall prescript. Whereupon it came to passe, that all the commendable parts of speech were set foorth by the name of figures, and all the illaudable partes vnder the name of vices, or viciosities, both of which it shall be spoken in their places.

3.9. How the Greeks first, and afterward the Latines, inuented new names for euery figure, which this Author is also enforced to doo in his vulgar.

The Greekes were a happy people for the freedome & liberty of their language, because it was allowed them to inuent any new name that they lifted and to peece many words together to make of them one entire much more significatiue than the single word. So among other things did they to their figuratiue speeches deuise certaine names. The Latines came somewhat behind them in that

point, and for want of conuenient single wordes to expresse that which the Greekes could do by cobling many words together, they were faine to vse the Greekes still, till after many yeares that the learned Oratours and good Grammarians among the Romaines, as Cicero, Varro, Quintilian, & others strained themselues to giue the Greeke wordes Latine names, and yet nothing so apt and fitty. The same course are we driuen to follow in this description, since we are enforced to cull out for the vse of our Poet or maker all the most commendable figures. Now to make them knowen (as behoueth) either we must do it by th'originall Greeke name or by the Latine, or by our owne. But when I consider to what sort of Readers I write, & how ill faring the Greeke terme would sound in the English eare, then also how short the Latines come to expresse manie of the Greeke originals. Finally, how well our language serueth to supplie the full signification of them both, I haue thought it no lesse lawfull, yea peraduenture vnder license of the learned, more laudable to vse our owne naturall, if they be well chosen, and of proper signification, than to borrow theirs. So shall not our English Poets, though they be to seeke of the Greeke and Latin languages, lament for lack of knowledge sufficient to the purpose of this arte. And in case any of these new English names giuen by me to any figure, shall happen to offend. I pray that he learned will beare with me and to thinke the straungenesse thereof proceedes but of noueltie and disaquaintance with our eares, which in processe of tyme, and by custome will frame very well: and such others as are not learned in the primitiue languages, if they happen to hit vpon any new name of myne (so ridiculous in their opinion) as may moue them to laughter, let such persons, yet assure themselues that such names go as neare as may be to their originals, or els serue better to the purpose of the figure then the very originall, reseruing alwayes, that such new name should not be vnpleasant in our vulgar nor harsh vpon the tong: and where it shall happen otherwise, that it may please the reader to thinke that hardly any other name in our English could be found to serue the turne better. Againe if to auoid the hazard of this blame I should haue kept the Greek or Latin still it would haue appeared a little too scholasticall for our makers, and a peece of worke more fit for clerkes then for Courtiers for whose instruction this trauaile is taken: and if I should haue left out both the Greeke and Latine name, and put in none of our owne neither: well perchance might the rule of the figure haue bene set downe, but no conuenient name to hold him in memory. It was therfore expedient we deuised for euery figure of importance his vulgar name, and to ioyne the Greeke or Latine originall with them; after that sort much better satisfying aswel the vulgar as the learned learner, and also the authors owne purpose, which is to make of a rude rimer, a learned and a Courtly Poet.

3.10. A diuision of figures, and how they serue in exornation of language.

And because our chiefe purpose herein is for the learning of Ladies and young Gentlewomen, or idle Courtiers, desirous to become skilful in their owne mother tongue, and for their priuate recreation to make now & then dittie of pleasure, thinking for our parte none other science so fit for them & the place as that which teacheth beau semblant, the chiefe profession aswell of Courting as of poesie: since to such manner of mindes nothing is more combersome then tedious doctrines and schollarly methodes of discipline, we haue in our owne conceit deuised a new and strange modell of this arte, fitter to please the Court then the schoole, and yet not vnnecessarie for all such as be willing themselues to become good makers in the vulgar, or to be able to iudge of other mens makings: wherefore, intending to follow the course which we haue begun, thus we say: that though the language of our Poet or maker being pure & clenly, & not disgraced by such vicious parts as haue bene before remembred in the Chapter of language, be sufficiently pleasing and commendable for the ordinarie vse of speech; yet is not the same so well appointed for all purposes of the excellent Poet, as when it is gallantly arrayed in all his colours which figure can set vpon it, therefore we are now further to determine of figures and figuratiue speeches. Figuratiue speech is a noueltie of language euidently (and yet not absurdly) estranged from the ordinarie habite and manner of our dayly talke and writing

and figure it selfe is a certaine liuely or good grace set vpon wordes, speaches and sentences to some purpose and not in vaine, giuing them ornament or efficacie by many maner of alterations in shape, in sounde, and also in sence, sometime by way of surplusage, sometime by defect, sometime by disorder, or mutation, & also by putting into our speaches more pithe and substance, subtiltie, quicknesse, efficacie or moderation, in this or that sort tuning and tempring them by amplification, abridgement, opening, closing, enforcing, meekening, or otherwise disposing them to the best purpose: whereupon the learned clerks who haue written methodically of this Arte in the two master languages, Greeke and Latine, haue sorted all their figures into three rankes, and the first they bestowed vpon the Poet onely: the second vpon the Poet and Oratour indifferently: the third vpon the Oratour alone. And that first sort of figures doth serue th'eare onely and may be therefore called Auricular: your second serues the conceit onely and not th'eare, and may be called sensable, not sensible nor yet sententious: your third sort serues as well th'eare as the conceit and may be called sententious figures, because not only they properly apperteine to full sentences, for bewtifying them with a currant & pleasant numerositie, but also giuing them efficacie, and enlarging the whole matter besides with copious amplifications. I doubt not but some busie carpers will scorne at my new deuised termes: auricular and sensable, saying that I might with better warrant haue vsed in their steads these words, orthographicall or syntacticall, which the learned Grammarians left ready made to our hands, and do import as much as th'other that I haue brought, which thing peraduenture I deny not in part, and neuerthelesse for some cause; thought them not so necessarie: but with these maner of men I do willingly beare, in respect of their laudable endeuour to allow antiquitie and flie innouation: with like beneuolence I trust they will beare with me writing in the vulgar speach and seeking by my nouelties to satisfie not the schoole but the Court: whereas they know very well all old things soone waxe stale & lothsome, and the new deuises are euer dainty and delicate, the vulgar instruction requiring also vulgar and comunicable termes, not clerkly or vncouthe as are all these of the Greeke and Latine languages primitiuely receiued, vnlesse they be qualified or by much vse and custome allowed and our eares made acquainted with them. Thus then I say that auricular figures be those which worke alteration in th'eare by sound, accent, time, and slipper volubilitie in vtteraunce, such as for that respect was called by the auncients numerositie of speach. And not onely the whole body of a tale in poeme or historie may be made in such sort pleasant and agreable to the eare, but also euery clause by it selfe, and euery single word carried in a clause, may haue their pleasant sweetenesse apart. And so long as this qualitie extendeth but to the outward tuning of the speach reaching no higher then th'eare and forcing the mynde little or nothing, it is that vertue which the Greeks call Enargia and is the office of the auricularfigures to performe. Therefore as the members of language at large are whole sentences, and sentences are compact of clauses, and clauses of words, and euery word of letters and sillables, so is the alteration (be it but of a sillable or letter) much materiall to the sound and sweetenesse of vtterance. Wherefore beginning first at the smallest alterations which rest in letters and sillables, the first sort of our figures auricular we do appoint to single words as they lye in language; the second to clauses of speach; the third to perfit sentences and to the whole masse of body of the tale be it poeme or historie written or reported.

3.11. Of auricular figures apperteining to single wordes and working by their diuers soundes and audible tunes alteration to the eare onely and not the mynde.

A word as he lieth in course of language is many wayes figured and thereby not a little altered in sound, which consequently alters the tune and harmonie of a meeter as to the eare. And this alteration is sometimes by adding sometimes by rabbating of a sillable or letter to or from a word either in the beginning, middle or ending ioyning or vnioyning of sillables and letters suppressing or confounding their seuerall soundes, or by misplacing of a letter, or by cleare exchaunge of one letter for another, or by wrong ranging of the accent. And your figures of addition or surpluse be three, videl. In the beginning, as to say I-doen,

for doon, endanger, for danger, embolden, for bolden.

In the middle, as to say renuers, for reuers, meeterly, for meetly, goldylockes, for goldlockes.

In th'end, as to say [remembren] for [remembre] [spoken] for [spoke]. And your figures of rabbate be as many, videl.

>From the beginning, as to say twixt for betwixt] [gainsay for againesay:] [ill for euill].

From the middle, as to say [paraunter for parauenture] [poorety for pouertie] [souraigne for soueraigne] [tane for taken.]

>From the end, as to say [morne for morning] [bet for better] and such like.

Your swallowing or eating vp one letter by another is when two vowels meete, whereof th'ones sound goeth into other, as to say for to attaine t'attaine for sorrow and smart sor' and smart.

Your displacing of a sillable as to say [desier for desire] [fier for fire.]

By cleare exchaunge of one letter or sillable for another, as to say euermare for euermore, wrang for wrong: gould for gold: fright for fraight and a hundred moe, which be commonly misused and strained to make rime.

By wrong ranging the accent of a sillable by which meane a short sillable is made long and a long short as to say soueráine for souéraine: gratíous for grátious: éndure for endúre: Salómon for Sálomon.

These many wayes may our maker alter his wordes, and sometimes it is done for pleasure to giue a better sound, sometimes vpon necessitie, and to make vp the rime. But our maker must take heed that he be not to bold specially in exchange of one letter for another, for vnlesse vsuall speach and custome allow it, it is a fault and no figure, and because these be figures of the smallest importaunce, I forbeare to giue them any vulgar name.

3.12. Of Auricular figures pertaining to clauses of speech and by them working no little alteration to the eare.

As your single words may be many waies transfigured to make the meetre or verse more tunable and melodious, so also may

your whole and entire clauses be in such sort contriued by the order of their construction as the eare may receiue a certaine recreation, although the mind for any noueltie of sence be little or nothing affected. And therefore al your figures of grammaticall construction I accompt them but merely auricular in that they reach no furder then the eare. To which there will appeare some sweete or vnsauery point to offer your dolour or delight, either by some euident defect, or surplusage, or disorder, or immutation in the same speaches notably altering either the congruitie grammaticall, or the sence, or both. And first of those that worke by defect, if but one word or some little portion of speach be wanting, it may be supplied by ordinary vnderstanding and vertue of the figure Eclipsis, as to say so early a man, for [are ye] so early a man: he is to be intreated, for he is [easie] to be intreated: I thanke God I am to liue like a Gentleman, for I am [able] to liue, and the Spaniard said in his deuise of armes acuerdo oluido, I remember I forget whereas in right congruitie of speach it should be I remember that I [doo] forget. And in a deuise of our owne [empechement pur a choiseon] a let for a furderance whereas it should be said [use] a let for a furderance, and a number morelike speaches defectiue, and supplied by common vnderstanding.

But if it be to mo clauses then one, that some such word be supplied to perfit the congruitie or sence of them all, it is by the figure [Zeugma] we call him the [single supplie] because by one word we serue many clauses of one congruitie, and may be likened to the man that serues many maisters at once, but all of one country or kinred: as to say.

Fellowes and friends and kinne forsooke me quite.

Here this word forsooke satisfieth the congruitie and sence of all three clauses, which would require euery of them asmuch. And as we setting forth her Maiesties regall petigree, said in this figure of [Single supplie.

Whereas ye see this one word [was] serues them all in that they require but one congruitie and sence.

Yet hath this figure of [Single supply] another propertie, occasioning

him to change now and then his name: by the order of his supplie, for if it be placed in the forefront of all the seuerall clauses whome he is to serue as a common seruitour, then is he called by the Greeks Prozeugma, by vs the Ringleader: thus

Where ye see this one word [perst] placed in the foreward, satisfieth both in sence & congruitie all those other clauses that followe him.

And if such word of supplie be place in the middle of all such clauses as he serues: it is by the Greeks called Mezozeugma, by vs the [Middlemarcher] thus:

Where ye see this word [weares] serues one clause before him, and two clauses behind him; in one and the same sence and congruitie. And in this verse,

Either the troth or talke nothing at all.

Where this worde [talke] serues the clause before and also behind. But if such supplie be placed after all the clauses, and not before nor in the middle, then is he called by the Greeks Hypozeugma, and by vs the [Rerewarder] thus:

Where ye see this word [fled from me] serue all the three clauses requiring but one congruitie & sence. But if such want be in sundrie clauses, and of seuerall congruities or sence, and the supply be made to serue them all, it is by the figure Sillepsis, whom for that respect we call the [double supplie] comceiuing, and as it were, comprehending vnder one, a supplie of two natures, and may be likened to the man that serues many masters at once, being of strange Countries or kinreds, as in these verses, where the lamenting widow shewed the Pilgrim the graues in which her husband & children lay buried.

Where ye see one verbe singular supplyeth the plurall and singular, and thus

Where ye see a third person supplie himselfe and a first person. And thus,

Viz. to show. Where ye see the moode Indicatiue supply him selfe and an Infinitiue. And the like in these other.

Viz. [to show.] Thus much for the congruitie, now for the sence. One wrote thus of a young man, who slew a villaine that had killed his father, and rauished his mother.

Where ye see this word [requite] serue a double sence: that is to say, to reuenge, and to satisfie. For the parents iniurie was reuenged, and the duetie of nature performed or satisfied by the childe. but if this supplie be made to sundrie clauses, or to one clause sundrie times iterated, and by seuerall words, so as euery clause hath his owne supplie: then is it called by the Greekes Hypozeuxis, we call him the substitute after his originall, and is a supplie with iteration, as thus:

Here [went to the king] and [said to the king] be but one clause iterated with words of sundrie supply. Or as in these verses following.

Here [my Ladie gaue and [my Ladie wist] be supplies with iteration, by vertue of this figure.

Ye haue another auricular figure of defect, and is when we begin to speake a thing, and breake of in the middle way, as if either it needed no further to be spoken of, or that we were ashamed, or afraide to speake it out. It is also sometimes done by way of threatning, and to shew a moderation of anger. The Greekes call him Aposiopesis. I, the figure of silence, or of interruption, indifferently.

If we doo interrupt our speech for feare, this may be an example, where as one durst not make the true report as it was, but staid halfe way for feare of offence, thus:

If it be for shame, or that the speaker suppose it would be indecent to tell all, then thus: as he that said to his sweete hart, whom he checked for secretly whispering with a suspected person.

If it be for anger or by way of manace or to show a moderation of wrath as the graue and discreeter sort of men do, then thus.

Thinking to haue said further viz. I will punish you.

If it be for none of all these causes, but vpon some sodaine occasion that moues a man to breake of his tale, then thus.

This figure is fit for phantasticall heads and such as be sodaine or lack memorie. I know one of good learning that greatly blemisheth his discretion with this maner of speach: for if he be in the grauest matter of the world talking, he will vpon the sodaine for the flying of a bird ouerthwart the way, or some other such sleight cause, interrupt his tale and neuer returne to it againe.

Ye haue yet another maner of speach purporting at the first blush a defect which afterward is supplied the, the Greekes call him Prolepsis, we the Propounder, or the Explaner which ye will: because he workes both effectes, as thus, where in certaine verses we

describe the triumphant enter-view of two great Princesses thus.

Here ye see the first proposition in a sort defectiue and of imperfect sence, till ye come by diuision to explane and enlarge it, but if we should follow the originall right, we ought rather to call him the forestaller, for like as he that standes in the market way, and takes all vp before it come to the market in grosse and sells it by retaile, so by this maner of speach our maker setts down before all the matter by a brief proposition, and afterward explanes it by a diuision more particularly.

By this other example it appeares also.

3.13. Of your figures Auricular working by disorder.

To all their speaches which wrought by disorder the Greekes gaue a general name [Hiperbaton] as much to say as the [trespasser] and because such disorder may be committed many wayes it receiueth sundry particulars vnder him, whereof some are onely proper to the Greekes and Latines and not to vs, other some ordinarie in our maner of speaches, but so foule and intollerable as I will not seeme to place them among the figures, but do raunge them as they deserue among the vicious or faultie speaches.

Your first figure of tollerable disorder is [Parenthesis] or by an English name the [Insertour] and is when ye will seeme for larger information or some other purpose, to peece or graffe in the middest of your tale an vnnecessary parcell of speach, which neuerthelesse

may be thence without any detriment to the rest. The figure is so common that it needeth none example, neuerthelesse because we are to teache Ladies and Gentlewomen to know their school points and termes appertaining to the Art, we may not refuse to yeeld examples euen in the plainest cases, as that of maister Diars very aptly.

Also in our Eglogue intituled Elpine, which we made being but eightene yeares old, to king Edward the sixt a Prince of great hope, we surmised that the Pilot of a ship answering the King, being inquisitiue and desirous to know all the parts of the ship and tackle, what they were, & to what vse they serued, vsing this insertion or Parenthesis.

And so proceedes to answere the kings question?

The shippe thou seest sayling in sea so large, &c.

This insertion is very long and vtterly impertinent to the principall matter, and makes a great gappe in the tale, neuerthelesse is no disgrace but rather a bewtie and to very good purpose, but you must not vse such insertions often nor to thick, nor those that bee very long as this of ours, for it will breede great confusion to haue the tale so much interrupted.

Ye haue another manner of disordered speach, when ye misplace your words or clauses and set that before which should be behind & è conuerso, we call it in English prouerbe, the cart before the horse, the Greeks call it Histeron proteron, we name it the Preposterous, and if it be not too much vsed is tollerable inough, and many times scarse perceiueable vnlesse the sence be thereby made very abused: as he that described his manner of departure from his mistresse, said thus not much to be misliked.

I kist her cherry lip and tooke my leaue:

For I tooke my leaue and kist her: And yet I cannot well say whether a man vse to kisse before hee take his leaue, or take his

leaue before the kisse, or that it be all one busines. It seemes the taking leaue is by vsing some speach, intreating license of departure: the kisse a knitting vp of the farewell, and as it were a testimoniall of the license without which here in England one may not presume of courtesie to depart, let yong Courtiers decide this controuersie. Our describing his landing vpon a strange coast, sayd thus preposterously.

When we had claimde the clifs, and were a shore,

Whereas he should haue said by good order.

When we were come a shore and clymed had the cliffs

For one must be on land ere he can clime. And as another said:

My dame that bred me up and bare me in her wombe.

Whereas the hearing is before the bringing vp. All your other figures of disorder because they rather seeme deformities then bewties of language, for so many of them as be notoriously vndecent, and make no good harmony, I place them in the Chapter of vices hereafter following.

3.14. Of your figures Auricular that worke by Surplusage.

Your figures auricular that worke by surplusage, such of them as be materiall and of importaunce to the sence or bewtie of your language, I referre them to the harmonicall speaches of oratours among the figures rhetoricall, as be those of repetition, and iteration or amplification. All others sorts of surplusage, I accompt rather vicious then figuratiue, & therefore not melodious as shalbe remembred in the chapter of viciosities or faultie speaches.

3.15. Of auricular figures working by exchange.

Your figures that worke auricularly by exchange, were more obseruable to the Greekes and Latines for the brauenesse of their language, ouer that ours is, and for the multiplicitie of their Grammaticall accidents, or verball affects, as I may terme them, that is to say, their diuers cases, moodes, tenses, genders, with variable terminations, by reason whereof, they changed not the very word, but kept the word, and changed the shape of him onely, vsing one case for another, or tense, or person, or gender, or number, or moode. We, hauing no such varietie of accidents, haue little or

no vse of this figure. The called it Enallage.

But another sort of exchange which they had, and very prety, we doe likewise vse, not changing one word for another, by their accidents or cases, as the Enallage: nor by the places, as the [Preposterous] but changing their true construction and application, whereby the sence is quite peruerted and made very absurd: as, he that should say, for tell me troth and lie not, lie me troth and tell not. For come dine with me and stay not, come stay with me and dine not.

A certaine piteous louer, to moue his mistres to compassion, wrote among other amorous verses, this one.

Madame, I set your eyes before mine woes.

For, mine woes before your eyes, spoken to th'intent to winne fauour in her sight.

But that was pretie of a certaine sorrie man of law, that gaue his Client but bad councell, and yet found fault with his fee, and said: my fee, good frend, hath deserued better counsel. Good master, quoth the Client, if your selfe had not said so, I would neuer haue beleeued it: but now I thinke as you doo. The man of law perceiuing his error, I tell thee (quoth he) my counsel hath deserued a better fee. Yet of all others was that a most ridiculous, but very true exchange, which the yeoman of London vsed with his Sergeant at the Mace, who said he would goe into the countrie, and make merry a day or two, while his man plyed his busines at home: an example of it you shall finde in our Enterlude entituled Lustie London: the Sergeant, for sparing of hors-hire, said he would goe with the Carrier on foote. That is not for your worship, said his yeoman, whereunto the Sergeant replyed.

The yeoman thinking it good manner to soothe his Sergeant, said againe,

Ye see a notorious exchange of the construction, and application of the words in this: I wot what I meane; and I meane what I wot, and in the other, company the knaue Carrier, and carrie a knaue in your company. The Greekes call this figure [Hipallage]

the Latins Submutatio, we in our vulgar may call him the [underchange] but I had rather haue him called the [Changeling] nothing at all sweruing from his originall, and much more aptly to the purpose, and pleasanter to beare in memory: specially for our Ladies and pretie mistresses in Court, for whose learning I write, because it is a terme often in their mouthes, and alluding to the opinion of Nurses, who are wont to say, that the Fayries vse to steale the fairest children out of their cradles, and put other ill fauoured in their places, which they called changelings, or Elfs, so, if ye mark, doeth our Poet, or maker play with his wordes, vsing a wrong construction for a right, and an absurd for a sensible, by manner of exchange.

3.16. Of some other figures which because they serue chiefly to make the meeters turnable and melodious, and affect not the minde but very little, be placed among the auricular.

The Greeks vsed a manner of speech or writing in their proses, that went by clauses, finishing in words of like tune, and might be by vsing like cases, tenses, and other points of consonance, which they called Omioteleton, and is that wherin they neerest approched to our vulgar ryme, and may thus be expressed.

Or thus if we speake in prose and not in meetre.

The craking Scotts as the Cronicle reportes at a certaine time made this bale rime vpon the English-men.

Which is no perfit rime in deede, but clauses finishing in the self same tune: for a rime of good simphonie should not conclude his concords with one & the same terminant sillable, as less, less, less, but with diuers and like terminants, as les, pres, mes, as was before declared in the chapter of your cadences, and your clauses in prose should neither finish with the same nor with the like terminants, but with the contrary as hath bene shewed before in the booke of proportions, yet many vse it otherwise, neglecting the Poeticall harmonie and skill. And th'Earle of Surrey with Syr Thomas Wyat the most excellent makers of their time, more peraduenture respecting the fitnesse and ponderositie of their wordes then the true cadence or simphonie, were very licencious in this point. We call this figure following the originall, the [like loose] alluding to th'Archers terme who is not said to finishe the feate of his shot before he giue the loose, and deliuer his arrow from his bow, in which respect we vse to say marke the loose of a thing for marke the end of it.

Ye do by another figure notably affect th'eare when ye make euery word of the verse to begin with a like letter, as for example in this verse written in an Epithaphe of our making.

It is a figure much vsed by our common rimers, and doth well if it be not too much vsed, for then it falleth into the vice which shalbe hereafter spoken of called Tautologia.

Ye haue another sort of speach in a maner defectiue because it wants good band or coupling, and is the figure [Asyndeton] we call him [loose language] and doth not a lite alter th'eare as thus.

I saw it, I said it, I will sweare it.

Cesar the Dictator vpon the victorie hee obtained against Pharnax king of Bithinia shewing the celeritie of his conquest, wrate home to the Senate in this tenour of speach no lesse swift and speedy then his victorie.

Meaning thus I was no sooner come and beheld them but the victorie fell on my side.

The Prince of Orenge for his deuise of Armes in banner displayed against the Duke of Alua and the Spaniards in the Low-countrey vsed the like maner of speach.

It is a figure to be vsed when we will seeme to make hast, or to be earnest, and these examples with a number more be spoken by the figure of [lose language].

Quite contrary to this ye haue another maner of construction which they called [Polisindeton] we may call him the [couple clause] for that euery clause is knit and coupled together with a coniunctiue thus.

So might the Poesie of Caesar haue bene altered thus.

I came, and I saw, and I ouercame.

One wrote these verses after the same sort.

Ye haue another maner of speach drawen out at length and going all after one tenure and with an imperfit sence till you come to the last word or verse which concludes the whole premisses with a perfit sence & full periode, the Greeks call it Irmus, I call him the [long loose] thus appearing in a dittie of Sir Thomas Wyat where he describes the diuers distempers of his bed.

Ye see here how ye can gather no perfection of sence in all this

dittie till ye come to the last verse in these wordes my bed I thee forsake. And in another Sonet of Petrarcha which was thus Englished by the same Sir Thomas Wyat.

Here all the whole sence of the dittie is suspended till ye come to the last three wordes, then do I loue againe, which finisheth the song with a full and perfit sence.

When ye will speake giuing euery person or thing besides his proper name a qualitie by way of addition whether it be of good or of bad it is a figuratiue speach of audible alteration, so is it also of sence as to say.

Or thus commending the Isle of great Brittaine.

Or as we sang of our Soueraigne Lady giuing her these Attributes besides her proper name.

But if we speake thus not expressing her proper name Elizabeth, videl.

The English Diana, the great Britton mayde.

Then is it not by Epitheton or figure of Attribution but by the figures Antonomasia, or Periphrasis.

Ye haue yet another manner of speach when ye will seeme to make two of one no thereunto constrained, which therefore we call the figure of Twynnes, the Greekes Endiadis thus.

Not you coy dame your lowrs nor your lookes.

For [your lowring lookes]. And as one of our ordinary rimers said.

In stead, of [fortunes frowning face]. One praysing the Neapolitans for good men at armes, said by the figure of Twynnes thus.

Where ye see this figure of Twynnes twise vsed, once when he said horses and barbes for barbd horses: againe when he saith with venim and with dartes for venimous dartes.

3.17. Of the figures which we call Sensable, because they alter and affect the minde by alteration of sence, and first in single wordes.

The eare hauing receiued his due satisfaction by the auricular figures, now must the minde also be serued, with his naturall delight by figures sensible such as by alteration of intendmentes affect the courage, and geue a good liking to the conceit. And first, single words haue their sence and vnderstanding altered and figured many wayes, to wit, by transport, abuse, crosse-naming, new naming, change of name. This will seeme very darke to you, vnlesse it be otherwise explaned more particularly: and first of Transport. There is a kind of wresting of a single word from his owne right signification, to another not so naturall, but yet of some affinitie or conueniencie with it, as to say, I cannot digest your unkinde words, for I cannot take them in good part: or as the man of law said, I feele you not, for I vnderstand not your case, because he had not his fee in his hand. Or as another said to a mouthy Aduocate, why barkest thou at me so sore? Or to call the top of a tree, or of a hill, the crowne of a tree or of a hill: for in deede crowne is the highest ornament of a Princes head, made like a close garland, or els the top of a mans head, where the haire windes about, and because such terme is not applyed naturally to a tree, or to a hill, but

is transported from a mans head to a hill or tree, therefore it is called by metaphore, or the figure of transport. And three causes moues vs to vse this figure, one for necessitie or want of a better word, thus:

Here for want of an apter and more naturall word to declare the drie temper of the earth, it is said to thirst & to reioyce, which is onely proper to liuing creatures, and yet being so inuerted, doth not so mush swerue from the true sence, but that euery man can easilie conceiue the meaning thereof.

Here for want of an apter and more naturall word to declare the drie temper of the earth, it is said to thirst & to reioyce, which is onely proper to liuing creatures, and yet being so inuerted, doth not so much swerue from the true sence, but that euery man can easily conceiue the meaning thereof.

Againe we vse it for pleasure and ornament of our speach, as thus in an Epitaph of our owne making, to the honourable memorie of a deere friend, Sir Iohn Throgmorton, knight, Iustice of Chester, and a man of many commendable vertues.

Here these words, rered, ouerthrowen, and lodged, are inuerted, & metaphorically applyed, not vpon necessitie, but for ornament onely, afterward againe in these verses.

In these verses the inuersion or metaphor, lyeth in these words, saw, harbourd, run: which naturally are applyed to liuing things, & not to insensible: as, the sunne, or the night: & yet they approch so neere, & so conueniently, as the speech is thereby made more commendable. Againe, in moe verses of the same Epitaph thus.

In which verses ye see that these words, source, shop, stud, sugred, are inuerted from their owne signification to another, not altogether so naturall, but of much affinitie with it.

Then also do we it sometimes to enforce a sence and make the word more significatiue: as thus,

These examples I haue the willinger giuen you to set foorth the nature and vse of your figure metaphore, which of any other being choisly made, is the most commendable and most common.

But if for lacke of naturall and proper terme or worde we take another, neither naturall nor proper and do vntruly applie it to the thing which we would seeme to expresse, and without any iust inconuenience, it is not then spoken by this figure Metaphore or of inuersion as before but by plaine abuse, as he that bad his man go into his library and set him his bowe and arrowes, for in deede there was neuer a booke there to be found, or as one should in reproch say to a poore man, thou raskall knaue, where raskall is properly the hunters terme giuen to young deere, leane & out of season, and not to people: or as one said very pretily in this verse.

I lent my loue to losse, and gaged my life in vaine.

Whereas this worde lent is properly of mony or some such other thing, as men do commonly borrow, for vse to be repayed againe, and being applied to loue is vtterly abused, and yet very commendably spoken by vertue of this figure. For he that loueth and is not beloued againe, hath no lesse wrong, than he that lendeth and is neuer repayde.

Now doth this vnderstanding or secret conceyt reach many times to the only nomination of persons or things in their names, as of men, or mountaines, seas, countries and such like, in which respect the wrong naming, or otherwise naming of them then is due, carieth not onely an alteration of sence but a necessitie of intendment figuratiuely as when we cal loue by the name of Venus, fleshly lust by the name of Cupid, bicause they were supposed by the auncient poets to be authors and kindlers of loue and lust: Vulcan: for fire, Ceres for bread: Bacchus for wine by the same reason; also if one should say to a skilfull craftesman knowen for a

glutton or common drunkard, that had spent all his goods on riot and delicate fare.

Thy hands they made thee rich, thy pallet made thee poore.

It is ment, his trauaile and arte made him wealthie, his riotous life had made him a beggar: and as one that boasted of his housekeeping, said that neuer a yeare passed ouer his head, that he drank not in his house euery moneth four tonnes of beere, & one hogshead of wine, meaning not the caskes or vessels, but that quantitie which they conteyned. These and such other speaches, where ye take the name of the Author for the thing it selfe, or the thing conteining, for that which is contained, & in many other cases do as it were wrong name the person or the thing. So neuerthelesse as it may be vnderstood, it is by the figure metonymia, or misnamer.

And if this manner of naming of persons or things be not by way of misnaming as before, but by a conuenient difference, and such as is true or esteemed and likely to be true, it is then called not metonimia, but antonomasia, or the Surnamer, (not the misnamer, which might extend to any other thing aswell as to a person) as he that would say: not king Philip of Spaine, but the Westerne king, because his dominion lieth the furdest West of any Christen prince: and the French king the great Vallois, because so is the name of his house, or the Queene of England, The maiden Queene, for that is her hiest peculiar among all the Queenes of the world, or as we said in one of our Partheniades, the Bryton mayde, because she is the most great and famous mayden of all Brittayne: thus,

So did our forefathers call Henry the first, Beauclerke, Edmund Ironside, Richard coeur de lion: Edward the Confessor, and we of her Maiestie Elisabeth the peasible.

Then also is the sence figuratiue when we deuise a new name to any thing consonant, as neere as we can to the nature thereof, as to say: flashing of lightning, clashing of blades, clinking of fetters, chinking of mony: & as the poet Virgil said of the sounding a trumpet, ta-ra-tant, taratantara, or as we giue special names to the voices of dombe beasts, as to say, a horse neigheth, a lyon brayes, a swine

grunts, a hen cackleth, a dogge howles, and a hundreth mo such new names as any man hath libertie to deuise, so it be fittie for the thing which he couets to expresse.

Your Epitheton or qualifier, whereof we spake before, placing him among the figures auricular, now because he serues also to alter and enforce the sence, we will say somewhat more of him in this place, and do conclude that he must be apt and proper for the thing he is added vnto, & not disagreable or repugnant, as one that said: darke disdaine, and miserable pride, very absurdly, for disdaine or disdained things cannot be said darke, but rather bright and cleere, because they beholden and much looked vpon, and pride is rather enuied then pitied or miserable, vnlesse it be in Christian charitie, which helpeth not the terme in this case. Some of our vulgar writers take great pleasure in giuing Epithets and do it almost to euery word which may receiue them, and should not be so, yea though they were neuer so propre and apt, for sometimes wordes suffered to go single, do giue greater sence and grace than words quallified by attributions do.

But the sence is much altered & the hearers conceit strangly entangled by the figure Metalepsis, which I call the farfet, as when we had rather fetch a word a great way off then to vse one nerer hand to expresse the matter aswel & plainer. And it seemeth the deuiser of this figure, had a desire to please women rather then men: for we vse to say by manner of Prouerbe: things farrefet and deare bought are good for Ladies: so in this manner of speach we vse it, leaping ouer the heads of a great many words, we take one that is furdest off, to vtter our matte by: as Medea cursing hir first acquaintance with prince Iason, who had very vnkindly forsaken her, said:

Where she might aswell haue said, woe worth our first meeting, or woe worth the time that Iason arriued with his ship at my fathers cittie in Colchos, when he tooke me away with him, & not so farre off as to curse the mountaine that bare the pinetree, that made the mast, that bare the sailes, that the ship sailed with, which caried her away. A pleasant Gentleman came into a Ladies nursery,

and saw her owne pleasure rocking or her young child in the cradle, and sayd to her:

Gods passion hourson said she, would thou haue me beare mo children yet, no Madame quoth the Gentleman, but I would haue you liue long, that ye might the better pleasure your friends, for his meaning was that as euery cradle signified a new borne childe, & euery child the leasure of one yeares birth, & many yeares a long life: so by wishing her to rocke many cradels of her owne, he wished her long life. Virgill said:

Post multas mea regna videns mirabor aristas.

Thus in English.

By stubble the Poet vnderstoode yeares, for haruests come but once euery yeare, at least wayes with vs in Europe. This is spoken by the figure of farre-set. Metalepsis.

And one notable meane to affect the minde, is to inforce the sence of any thing by a word of more than ordinary efficacie, and neuertheles is not apparant, but as it were, secretly implyed, as he that said thus of a faire Lady.

O rare beautie, ô grace, and curtesie.

And by a very euill man thus.

O sinne it selfe, not wretch, but wretchednes.

Whereas if he had said thus, O gratious, courteous and beautifull woman: and, O sinfull and wretched man, it had bene all to one effect, yet not with such force and efficacie, to speake by the denominatiue, as by the thing it selfe.

As by the former figure we vse to enforce our sence, so by another we temper our sence with wordes of such moderation, as in appearaunce it abateth, it but not in deede, and is by the figure Liptote, which therefore I call the Moderator, and becomes vs many times better to speake in that sort quallified, than if we spake it by more forcible termes, and neuertheles is equipolent in sence, thus.

Meaning in deede that he loued him very well and dearely, and yet the words doe not expresse so much, though they purport so much. Or if you would say, I am not ignorant, for I know well inough. Such a man is no foole, meaning in deede that he is a very wise man.

But if such moderation of words tend to flattery, or soothing, or excusing, it is by the figure Paradiastole, which therfore nothing improperly we call the Curry-fauell, as when we make the best of a bad thing, or turne a signification to the more plausible sence: as, to call an vnthrift, a liberall Gentleman: the foolish-hardy, valiant or couragious: the niggard, thriftie; a great riot, or outrage, and youthfull pranke, and such like termes: moderating and abating the force of the matter by craft, and for a pleasing purpose, as appeareth by these verses of ours, teaching in what cases it may commendably be vsed by Courtiers.

But if you diminish and abbase a thing by way of spight or malice, as it were to depraue it, such speach is by the figure Meiosis or the disabler spoken of hereafter in the place of sententious figures.

But if ye abase your thing or matter by ignorance or errour in the choise of your word, then is it by vicious maner of speach called Tapinosis, whereof ye shall haue examples in the chapter of vices hereafter folowing.

Then againe if we vse such a word (as many times we doe) by which we driue the hearer to conceiue more or lesse or beyond or otherwise then the letter expresseth, and it be not by vertue of the former figures Metaphore and Abase and the rest, the Greeks then call it Synecdoche, the Latines sub intellectio or vnderstanding, for by part we are enforced to vnderstand the whole, by the whole part, by many things one thing, by one, many, by a thing precedent, a thing consequent, and generally one thing out of another by maner of contrariety to the word which is spoken, aliud ex alio, which because it seemeth to aske a good, quick, and pregnant capacitie, and is not for an ordinarie or dull wit so to do, I chose to call him the figure not onely of conceit after the Greeke originall, but also of quick conceite. As for example we will giue none because we

will speake of him againe in another place, where he is ranged among the figures sensable apperteining to clauses.

3.18. Of sensable figures altering and affecting the mynde by alteration of sence or intendements in whole clauses or speaches.

As by the last remembred figures the sence of single wordes is altered, so by these that follow is that of whole and entier speach: and first by the Courtly figure Allegoria, which is when we speake one thing and thinke another, and that our wordes and our meanings meete not. The vse of this figure is so large, and has vertue of so great efficacie as it is supposed no man can pleasantly vtter and perswade without it, but in effect is sure neuer or very seldome to thriue and prosper in the world, that cannot skilfully put in vre, in somuch as not onely euery common Courtier, but also the grauest Counsellour, yea and the most noble and wisest Prince of them all are many times enforced to vse it, by example (say they) of the great Emperour who had it vsually in his mouth to say Qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare. Of this figure therefore which for his duplicitie we call the figure of [false semblant or dissimulation] we will speake first as of the chief ringleader and captaine of all other figures, either in the Poeticall or oratorie science.

And ye shall know that we may dissemble, I meane speake otherwise then we thinke, in earnest aswell as in sport, vnder couert and darke termes, and in learned and apparant speaches, in short sentences, and by long ambage and circumstance of wordes, and finally aswell when we lye as when we tell truth. To be short euery speach wrested from his owne naturall signification to another not altogether so naturall is a kinde of dissimulation, because the wordes beare contrary countenaunce to th'intent. But properly & in his principall vertue Allegoria is when we do speake in sence translatiue and wrested from the owne signification, neuerthelesse applied to another not altogether contrary, but hauing much conueniencie with it as before we said of the metaphore: as for example if we should call the common wealth, a shippe; the Prince a Pilot, the Counsellours mariners, the stormes warres, the calme

and [hauen] peace, this is spoken all in allegorie: and because such inuersion of sence in one single worde is by the figure Metaphore; of whom we spake before, and this manner of inuersion extending to whole and large speaches, it maketh the figure allegorie to be called a long and perpetuall Metaphore. A noble man after a whole yeares absence from his ladie, sent to know how she did, and whether she remayned affected toward him as she was when he left her.

Meaning, that her loue was so stedfast and constant toward him as no time or occasion could alter it. Virgill in his shepeherdly poemes called Eglogues vsed as rusticall but fit allegorie for the purpose thus:

Claudite iam riuos pueri sat prata biberunt.

Which I English thus:

Stop up your streams (my lads) the medes haue drunk ther fill.

As much to say, leaue of now, yee haue talked of the matter inough: for the shepheards guise in many places is by opening certaine sluces to water their pastures, so as when they are wet inough they shut them againe: this application is full Allegoricke.

Ye haue another manner of Allegorie not full, but mixt, as he that wrate thus:

I call him not a full Allegorie, but mixt, bicause he discouers withall what the cloud, storme, waue, and the rest are, which in a full allegorie should not be discouered, but left at large to the readers iudgement and coniecture.

We dissemble againe vnder couert and darke speaches, when

we speake by way of riddle (Enigma) of which the sence can hardly be picked out, but by the parties owne assoile, as he that said:

Meaning it by the ise which is made of frozen water, the same being molten by the sunne or fire, makes water againe.

My mother had an old woman in her nurserie, who in the winter nights would put vs forth many prety ridles, whereof this is one:

The good old Gentlewoman would tell vs that were children how it was meant by a furd glooue. Some other naughtie body would peraduenture haue construed it not halfe so mannerly. The riddle is pretie but that it holdes too much of the Cachemphaton or foule speach and may be drawen to a reprobate sence.

We dissemble after a sort, when we speake by common prouerbs, or, as we vse to call them, old said sawes, as thus:

Meaning by the first, that the young learne by the olde, either to be good or euill in their behauiours: by the second, that he is not to be counted a wise man, who being in authority, and hauing the administration of many good and great things, will not serue his own turne and his friends whilest he may, & many such prouerbiall speeches: as Totnesse is turned French, for a strange alteration: Skarborow warning, for a sodaine commandement, allowing no respect or delay to bethinke a man of his busines. Note neuerthelesse a diuersitie, for the two last examples be prouerbs, the two first prouerbiall speeches.

Ye doe likewise dissemble, when ye speake in derision or mockerie, & that may be many waies: as sometime in sport, sometime in earnest, and priuily, and apertly, and pleasantly, and bitterly: but first by the figure Ironia, which we call the drye mock: as he that said to a bragging Ruffian, that threatened he would kill and slay, no doubt you are a good man of your hands: or, as it was said by

a French king, to one that praide his reward, shewing how he had bene cut in the face at a certain battell fought in his seruice: ye may see, quoth the king, what it is to runne away & looke backwards. And as Alphonso king of Naples, said to one that profered to take his ring when he washt before dinner, this wil serue another well: meaning that the Gentlemen had another time taken them, & because the king forgot to aske for them, neuer restored his ring againe.

Or when we deride with a certaine seueritie, we may call it the bitter taunt [Sarcasmus] as Charles the fift Emperour aunswered the Duke of Arskot, beseeching him recompence of seruice done at the siege of Renty, against Henry the French king, where the Duke was taken prisoner, and afterward escaped clad like a Colliar. Thou wert taken, quoth the Emperour, like a coward, and scapedst like a Colliar, wherefore get thee home and liue vpon thine owne. Or as king Henry the eight said to one of his priuy chamber, who sued for Sir Anthony Rowse, a knight of Norfolke that his Maiestie would be good vnto him, for that he was an ill begger. Quoth the king againe, if he be ashamed to beg, we are ashamed to geue. Or as Charles the fift Emperour, hauing taken in battaile Iohn Frederike Duke of Saxon, with the Lantgraue of Hessen and others: this Duke being a man of monstrous bignesse and corpulence, after the Emperor had seene the prisoners, said to those that were about him, I haue gone a hunting many times, yet neuer tooke I such a swine before.

Or when we speake by manner of pleasantery, or mery skoffe, that is, by a kinde of mock, whereof the sence is farrefet, & without any gall or offence. The Greekes call it [Asteismus] we may terme it the ciuill iest, because it is a mirth very full of ciuilitie, and such as the most ciuill men doo vse. As Cato said to one that had geuen him a good knock on the head with a long peece of timber he bare on his shoulder, and then bad him beware: what (quoth Cato) wilt thou strike me againe? for ye know, a warning should be geuen before a man haue receiued harme, and not after. And as king Edward the sixt, being of young yeres, but olde in wit, saide to one of his priuie chamber, who sued for a pardon for one that was condemned for a robberie, telling the king that it was but a small trifle, not past sixteene shillings matter which he had taken:

quoth the king againe, but I warrant you the fellow was sorrie it had not bene sixteen pound: meaning how the malefactors intent was as euill in that trifle, as if it had bene a greater summe of money. In these examples if ye marke there is no griefe or offence ministred as in those other before, and yet are very wittie, and spoken in plaine derision.

The Emperor Charles the fift was a man of very few words, and delighted little in talke. His brother king Ferdinando being a man of more pleasant discourse, sitting at the table with him, said, I pray your Maiestie be not so silent, but let vs talke a little. What neede that brother, quoth the Emperor, since you haue words enough for vs both.

Or when we giue a mocke with a scornefull countenance as in some smiling sort looking aside or by drawing the lippe awry, or shrinking vp the nose; the Greeks called it Micterismus, we may terme it a fleering frumpe, as he that said to one whose wordes he beleued not, not doubt Sir of that. This fleering frumpe is one of the Courtly graces of hicke the scorner.

Or when we druide by plaine and flat contradiction, as he that saw a dwarfe go in the streete said to his companion that walked with him: See yonder gyant: and to a Negro or woman blackemoore, in good sooth ye are a faire one, we may call it the broad floure.

Or when ye giue a mocke vnder smooth and lowly wordes as he that hard one call him all to nought and say, thou are sure to be hanged ere thou dye: quoth th'other very soberly Sir I know your maistership speakes but in iest, the Greeks call it (charientismus) we may call it the priuy nippe, or a myld and appeasing mockery: all these be souldiers to the figure allegoria and fight vnder the banner of dissimulation.

Neuerthelesse ye haue yet two or three other figures that smatch a spice of the same false semblant, but in another sort and maner of phrase, whereof one is when we speake in the superlatiue and beyond the limites of credit, that is by the figure which the Greeks call Hiperbole, the Latines Dementiens or the lying figure. I for his immoderate excesse cal him the ouer reacher right with his originall or [lowd lyer] & me thinks not amisse: now when I speake that

which neither I my selfe thinke to be true, nor would haue any other body beleeue, it must needs be a great dissimulation, because I meane nothing lesse then that I speake, and this maner of speach is vsed, when either we would greatly aduance or greatly abase the reputation of any thing or person, and must be vsed very discreetly, or els it will seeme odious, for although a prayse or other report may be allowed beyond credit, it may not be beyond all measure, specially in the proseman, as he that was speaker in a Parliament of king Henry the eights raigne, in his Oration which ye know is or ordinary to be made before the Prince at the first assembly, of both houses, ould seeme to prayse his Maiestie thus. What should I go about to recite your Maiesties innumerable vertues, euen as much as if I tooke vpon me to number the starres of the skie, or to tell the sands of the sea. This Hyperbole was both ultra fidem and also ultra modum, and therefore of a graue and wise Counsellour made the speaker to be accompted a grosse flattering foole: peraduenture if he had vsed it thus, it had bene better and neuerthelesse a lye too, but a more moderate lye and no lesse to the purpose of the kings commendation, thus. I am not able with any wordes sufficiently to expresse your Maiesties regall vertues, your kingly merites also towardes vs your people and realme are so exceeding many, as your prayses therefore are infinite, your honour and renowne euerlasting: And yet all this if we shall measure it by the rule of exact veritie, is but an vntruth, yet a more cleanely commendation then was maister Speakers. Neuerthelesse as I said before if we fall a praysing, specially of our mistresses vertue, bewtie, or other good parts, we be allowed now and then to ouer-reach a little by way of comparison as he that said thus in prayse of his Lady.

And as a certaine noble Gentlewoman lamenting at the vnkindnesse of her louer said very pretily in this figure.

Then haue ye the figure Periphrasis, holding somewhat of the dissembler, by reason of a secret intent not appearing by the words, as when we go about the bush, and will not in one or a few words expresse that thing which we desire to haue knowen, but do chose rather to do it by many words, as we our selues wrote of our Soueraigne Lady thus:

And the rest that followeth, meaning her Maiesties person, which we would seeme to hide leauing her name vnspoken, to the intent the reader should gesse at it: neuerthelesse vpon the matter did so manifestly disclose it, as any simple iudgement might easily perceiue by whom it was ment, that is by Lady Elizabeth, Queene of England and daughter to king Henry the eight, and therein resteth the dissimulation. It is one of the gallantest figures among the poetes so it be vsed discretely and in his right kinde, but many of these makers that be not halfe their craftes maisters, do very often abuse it and also many waies. For if the thing or person they go about to describe by circumstance, be by the writers improuidence otherwise bewrayed, it looseth the grace of a figure, as he that said:

Intending to describe the spring of the yeare, which euery man knoweth of himselfe, hearing the day of March named: the verses be very good the figure nought worth, if it were meant in Periphrase for the matter, that is the season of the yeare which should haue bene couertly disclosed by ambage, was by and by blabbed out by naming the day of the moneth, & so the purpose of the figure disapointed, peraduenture it had bin better to haue said thus:

For now there remaineth for the Reader somewhat to studie and gesse vpon, and yet the spring time to the learned iudgement sufficiently expressed.

The Noble Earle of Surrey wrote thus:

I would faine learne of some good maker, whether the Earle spake this in figure of Periphrase or not, for mine owne opinion I thinke that if he ment to describe the winter season, he would not haue disclosed it so broadly, as to say winter at the first worde, for that had bene against the rules of arte, and without any good iudgement: which in so learned & excellent a personage we ought not to suspect, we say therefore that for winter it is no Periphrase but language at large: we say for all that, hauing regard to the second verse that followeth it is a Periphrase, seeming that thereby he intended to shew in what part of the winter his loues gaue him anguish, that is in the time which we call the fall of the leafe, which begins in the moneth of October, and stands very well with the figure to be vttered in that sort notwithstanding winter be named before, for winter hath many parts: such namely as do not shake of the leafe, nor vncloth the trees as here is mencioned: thus may ye iudge as I do, that this noble Erle wrate excellently well and to purpose. Moreouer, when a maker will seeme to vse circumlocution to set forth any thing pleasantly and figuratiuely, yet no lesse plaine to a ripe reader, then if it were named expresly, and when all is done, no man can perceyue it to be the thing intended. This is a soule ouersight in any writer as did a good fellow, who weening to shew his cunning, would needs by periphrase expresse the realme of Scotland in no lesse then eight verses, and when he had said all, no man could imagine it to be spoken of Scotland: and did besides many other faultes in his verse, so deadly belie the matter by his description as it would pitie any good maker to heare it.

Now for the shutting vp of this Chapter, will I remember you farther of that manner of speech which the Greekes call Synedcoche, and we the figure of [quick conceite] who for the reasons before

alledged, may be put vnder the speeches allegoricall, because of the darkenes and duplicitie of his sence: as when one would tell me how the French king was ouerthrowen at Saint Quintans, I am enforced to think that it was not the king himselfe in person, but the Constable of Fraunce with the French kings power. Or if one would say, the towne of Andwerpe were famished, it is not so to be taken, but of the people of the town of Andwerp, and this conceit being drawen aside, and (as it were) from one thing to another, it encombers the minde with a certaine imagination what it may be that is meant, and not expressed: as he that said to a young gentlewoman, who was in her chamber making her selfe vnready. Mistresse will ye geue me leaue to vnlace your peticote, meaning (perchance) the other thing that might follow such vnlasing. In the olde time, whosoeuer was allowed to vndoe his Ladies girdle, he might lie with her all night: wherfore the taking of a womans maydenhead away, was said to vndoo her girdle. Virgineam dissoluit zonam, saith the Poet, conceiuing out of a thing precedent, a thing subsequent. This may suffice for the knowledge of this figure [quicke conceit].

3.19. Of Figures sententious, otherwise called Rhetoricall.

Now it our presupposall be true, that the Poet is of all other the most auncient Orator, as he that by good & pleasant perswasions first reduced the wilde and beastly people into publicke societies and ciuilitie of life, insinuating vnto them vnder fictions with sweete and coloured speeches, many wholesome lessons and doctrines, then no doubt there is nothing so fitte for him, as to be furnished with all the figures that be Rhetoricall, and such as do most beautifie language with eloquence & sententiousnes. Therfore since we haue already allowed to our maker his auricular figures, and also his sensable, by which all the words and clauses of his meeters are made as well tunable to the eare, as stirring to the minde, we are now by order to bestow vpon him those other figures which may execute both offices, and all at once to beautifie and geue sence and sententiousnes to the whole language at large. So as if we should intreate our maker to play also the Orator, and

whether it be to pleade, or to praise, or to aduise, that in all three cases he may vtter, and also perswade both copiously and vehemently.

And your figures rhetoricall, besides their remembred ordinarie vertues, that is, sententiousnes, & copious amplification, or enlargement of language, doe also conteine a certaine sweet and melodious manner of speech, in which respect, they may, after a sort, be said auricular: because the eare is no lesse rauished with their currant tune, than the mind is with their sententiousnes. For the eare is properly but an instrument of conueyance for the minde, to apprehend the sence by the sound. And our speech is made melodious or harmonicall, not onely by strayned tunes, as those of Musick, but also by choise of smoothe words: and thus, or thus, marshalling them in their comeliest construction and order, and aswell by sometimes sparing, sometimes spending them more or less liberally, and carrying or transporting them farther off or neerer, setting them with sundry relations, and variable formes, in the ministery and vse of words, doe breede no little alteration in man. For to say truely, what els is man but his minde? which, whosoeuer haue skil to compasse, and make yeelding and flexible, what may not he commaund the body to perfourme? He therefore that hath vanquished the minde of man, hath made the greatest and most glorious conquest. But the minde is not assailable vnlesse it be by sensible approches, whereof the audible is of greatest force for instruction or discipline: the visible, for apprehension of exterior knowledges as the Philosopher saith. Therefore the well tuning of your words and clauses to the delight of the eare, maketh your information no lesse plausible to the minde than to the eare: no though you filled them with neuer so much sence and sententiousnes. Then also must the whole tale (if it tende to perswasion) beare his iust and reasonable measure, being rather with the largest, than with the scarcest. For like as one or two drops of water perce not the flint stone, but many and often droppings doo: so cannot a few words (be they neuer so pithie or sententious) in all cases and to all manner of mindes, make so deepe an impression, as a more multitude of words to the purpose discreetely, and without superfluitie vttered: the minde being no lesse vanquished

with large loade of speech, than the limmes are with heauie burden. Sweetenes of speech, sentence, and amplification, are therfore necessarie to an excellent Orator and Poet, ne may in no wise be spared from any of them.

And first of all others your figure that worketh by iteration or repetition of one word or clause doth much alter and affect the eare and also the mynde of the hearer, and therefore is counted a very braue figure both with the Poets and rhetoriciens, and this repetition may be in seuen sortes.

Repetition in the first degree we call the figure of Report according to the Greeke originall, and is when we make one word begin, and as they are wont to say, lead the daunce to many verses in sute, as thus.

And this written by Sir Walter Raleigh of his greatest mistresse in most excellent verses.

Or as the buffon in our enterlude called Lustie London said very knauishly and like himselfe.

Ye haue another sort of repetition quite contrary to the former when ye make one word finish many verses in sute, and that which is harder, to finish many clauses in the middest of your verses or dittie (for to make them finish the verse in our vulgar it should hinder the rime) and because I do finde few of our English makers vse this figure, I haue set you down to two litle ditties which our selues in our yonger yeares played vpon the Antistrophe, for so

is the figures name in Greeke: one vpon the mutable loue of a Lady, another vpon the meritorious loue of Christ our Sauiour, thus.

The second vpon the merites of Christes passion toward mankind, thus,

The Greekes call this figure Antistrophe, the Latines, conuersio, I following the originall call him the counterturne, because he turnes counter in the middest of euery meetre.

Take me the two former figures and put them into one, and it is that which the Greekes call symploche, the Latines complexio, or conduplicatio, and is a maner of repetition, when one and the selfe word doth begin and end many verses in sute & so wrappes vp both the former figures in one, as he that sportingly complained of his vntrustie mistresse, thus.

The Greekes name this figure Symploche, the Latins Complexio, perchaunce for that he seemes to hold in and to wrap vp the verses by reduplication, so as nothing can fall out. I had rather call him the figure of replie.

Ye haue another sort of repetition when with the worde by which you finish your verse, ye beginne the next verse with the same, as thus:

Or thus:

The Greeks call this figure Anadiplosis, I call him the Redouble as the originall beares.

Ye haue an other sorte of repetition, when ye make one worde both beginne and end your verse, which therefore I call the slow retourne, otherwise the Eccho, sound, as thus:

Vnlesse I called him the eccho sound, I could not tell what name to giue him, vnlesse it were the slow returne.

Ye haue another sort of repetition when in one verse or clause of a verse, ye iterate one word without any intermission, as thus:

It was Maryne, Maryne that wrought mine woe.

And this bemoaning the departure of a deere friend.

And that of Sir Walter Raleighs very sweet.

The Greeks call him Epizeuxis, the Latines Subiunctio, we may call him the underlay, me thinks if we regard his manner of iteration, & would depart from the originall, we might very properly,

in our vulgar and for pleasure call him the cuckowspell, for right as the cuckow repeats his lay, which is but one manner of note, and doth not insert any other tune betwixt, and sometimes for hast stammers out two or three of them one immediatly after another, as cuck, cuck, cuckow, so doth the figure Epizeuxis in the former verses, Maryne, Maryne, without any intermission at all.

Ye haue one sorte of repetition, which we call the doubler, and is as the next before, a speedie iteration of one word, but with some little intermission by inserting one or two words betweene, as in a most excellent dittie written by Sir Walter Raleigh these two closing verses:

And this spoken in common Prouerbe.

Or as we once sported vpon a fellowes name who was called Woodcock, and for an ill part he had plaid entreated fauour by his friend.

Now also be there many other sortes of repetition if a man would vse them, but are nothing commendable, and therefore are not obserued in good poesie, as a vulgar rimer who doubled one word in the end of euery verse, thus:

And an other that did the like in the beginning of his verse, thus:

To loue him and loue him, as sinners should doo.

These repetitions be not figuratiue but phantastical, for a figure is euer vsed to a purpose, either of beautie or of efficacie: and these last recited be to no purpose, for neither can ye say that it vrges affection, nor that it beautifieth or enforceth the sence, nor hath any other subtiltie in it, and therfore is a very foolish impertinency of speech, and not a figure.

Ye haue a figure by which ye play with a couple of words or names much resembling, and because the one seemes to answere

th'other by maner of illusion, and doth, as it were, nick him, I call him the Nicknamer. If any other man can geue him a fitter English name, I will not be angrie, but I am sure mine is very neere the originall sence of Prosonomasia, and is rather a by-name geuen in sport, that a surname geuen of any earnest purpose. As, Tiberius the Emperor, because he was a great drinker of wine, they called him by way of derision to his owne name, Caldius Biberius Mero, in steade of Claudius Tiberius Nero: and so a iesting frier that wrate against Erasmus, called him by resemblance to his own name Errans mus, and are mainteined by this figure Prosonomasia, or the Nicknamer. But euery name geuen in iest or by way of a surname, if it do not resemble the true, is not by this figure, as the Emperor of Greece, who was surnamed Constantius Copronimus, because he beshit the foont at the time he was christened: and so ye may see the difference betwixt the figures Antonomasia & Prosonomatia. Now when such resemblance happens betweene words of another nature, and not vpon mens names, yet doeth the Poet or maker finde prety sport to play with them in his verse, specially the Comicall Poet and the Epigrammatist. Sir Philip Sidney in a dittie plaide very pretily with these two words, Loue and live, thus.

And we in our Enterlude called the woer, plaid with these two words, lubber and louer, thus, the countrey clowne came & woed a young maide of the Citie, and being agreeued to come so oft, and not to haue his answere, said to the old nurse very impatiently.

Quoth the nurse.

They be lubbers not louers that so use to say.

Or as one replyed to his mistresse charging him with some disloyaltie towards her.

Here the words proue and reproue, excuse and accuse, do pleasantly

encounter, and (as it were) mock one another by their much resemblance: and this is by the figure Prosonomatia, as wel as if they were mens proper names, alluding to each other.

Then haue ye a figure which the Latines call Traductio, and I the tranlacer: which is when ye turne and tranlace a word into many sundry shapes as the Tailor doth his garment, & after that sort do play with him in your dittie: as thus,

Or as one who much gloried in his owne wit, whom Persius taxes in a verse very pithily and pleasantly, thus.

Scire tuum nihil est nisi te scire, hoc sciat alter.

Which I haue turned into English, not so briefly, but more at large of purpose the better to declare the nature of the figure: as thus,

Here ye see how in the former rime this word life is tranlaced into liue, liuing, liuely, liuelode: & in the latter time this word wit is translated into weete, weene, wotte, witlesse, witty & wise: which come all from one originall.

Ye haue a figuratiue speach which the Greeks cal Antipophora, I name him the Responce, and is when we will seeme to aske a question to th'intent w will aunswere it our selues, and is a figure of argument and also of amplification. Of argument, because proponing such matter as our aduersarie might obiect and then to answere it our selues, we do vnfurnish and preuent him of such helpe as he would otherwise haue vsed for himselfe: then because such obiection and answere spend much language it serues as well to amplifie and enlarge our tale. Thus for example.

We read that Crates the Philosopher Cinicke in respect of the manifold discommodities of mans life, held opinion that is was best for man neuer to haue bene borne or soone after to dye, [Optimum non nasci vel cito mori] of whom certaine verses are left written in Greeke which I haue Englished thus.

Metrodorus the Philosopher Stoick was of a contrary opinion reuersing all the former suppositions against Crates, thus.

Edward Earle of Oxford a most noble & learned Gentleman made in this figure of responce an emble of desire otherwise called Cupide which for his excellencie and wit, I set downe some part of the verses, for example.

Ye haue another figure which me thinkes may well be called (not much sweruing from his originall in sence) the Crosse-couple, because it takes me two contrary words, and tieth them as it were in a paire of couples, and so makes them agree like good fellowes, as I saw once in Fraunce a wolfe coupled with a mastiffe, and a foxe with a hounde. Thus it is.

Or thus.

In this figure of the Crosse-couple we wrate for a forlorne loure complaining of his mistresse crueltie these verses among other.

Ye haue another figure which by his nature we may call the Rebound, alluding to the tennis ball which being smitten with the racket reboundes backe againe, and where the last figure before played with two wordes somewhat like, this playeth with one word written all alike but carrying diuers sences as thus.

The maide that soone married is, soone marred is.

Or thus better because married & marred be different in one letter.

Or as we once sported vpon a countrey fellow who came to runne for the best game, and was by his occupation a dyer and had very bigge swelling legges.

Where ye see this word course and dye, vsed in diuers sences, one giuing the Rebounde vpon th'other.

Ye haue a figure which as well by his Greeke and Latine originals, & also by allusion to the maner of a mans gate or going may be called the marching figure, for after the first steppe all the rest proceede by double the space, and so in our speach one word proceedes double to the first that was spoken, and goeth as it were by strides or paces: it may aswell be called the clyming figure, for Climax is as much to say as a ladder, as in one of our Epitaphes shewing how a very meane man by his wisedome and good fortune came to great estate and dignitie.

Or as Ihean de Mehune the French Poet.

Ye haue a figure which takes a couple of words to play with in a verse, and by making them to chaunge and shift one into others place they do very pretily exchange and shift the sence, as thus.

Meaning that we dwell not here to build, but we build to dwel, as we liue not to eate, but eate to liue, or thus:

Or thus.

Or as the Philosopher Musonius wrote.

A wittie fellow in Rome wrate vnder the Image of Caesar the Dictator these two verses in Latine, which because they are spoken by this figure of Counterchaunge I haue turned into a couple of English verses very well keeping the grace of the figure.

Cato of any Senatour not onely the grauest but also the promptest an wittiest in any euill scoffe, misliking greatly the engrossing of offices in Rome that one man should haue many at once, and a great number goe without that were as able men, said thus by Counterchaunge.

Againe:

Ye haue another figure much like to the Sarcasmus, or bitter taunt wee spake of before: and is when with proud and insolent words, we do vpbraid a man, or ride him as we terme it: for which cause the Latines also call it Insultatio, I choose to name him the Reprochfull or scorner, as when Queene Dido saw, that for all her great loue an entertainements bestowed vpon Aeneas, he would needs depart, and follow the Oracle of his destines, she brake out in a great rage and said very disdainefully.

Or as the poet Iuenall reproched the couetous Merchant, who for lucres sake passed on no perill either by land or sea, thus:

Ye haue another figure very pleasant and fit for amplification, which to answer the Greeke terme, we may call the encounter, but following the Latine name by reason of his contentious nature, we may call him the Quarreller, for so be al such persons as delight in taking the contrary part of whatsoeuer shalbe spoken: when I was a scholler in Oxford they called euery such one Iohannes ad oppositum.

Or as it is in these verses where one speaking of Cupids bowe, deciphered, thereby the nature of sensual loue, whose beginning is more pleasant than the end, thus allegorically and by antitheton.

Maister Diar in this quarrelling figure.

Isocrates the Greek Oratour was a litle too full of this figure, & so was the Spaniard that wrote the life of Marcus Aurelius, & many of our moderne writers in vulgar, vse it in excesse & incurre the vice of fond affectation: otherwise the figure is very commendable.

In this quarrelling figure we once plaid this merry Epigrame of an importune and shrewd wife, thus:

There is a kinde of figuratiue speach when we aske many questions and looke for none answere, speaking indeed by interrogation, which we might as well say by affirmation. This figure I call the Questioner or inquisitiue, as whan Medea excusing her great crueltie vsed in the murder of her owne children which she had by Iason, sais:

Or as another wrote very commendably.

Cato vnderstanding that the Senate had appointed three citizens of Rome for embassadours to the king of Bithinia, whereof one had the Gowte, another the Meigrim, the third very little courage or discretion to be employed in any such businesse, said by way of skoffe in this figure.

And as a great Princesse aunswered her seruitour, who distrusting in her fauours toward him, praised his owne constancie in these verses.

No fortune base or frayle can alter me:

To whome she in this figure repeting his words:

The figure of exclamation, I call him [the outcrie] because it vtters our minde by all such words as do shew any extreme passion, whether it be by way of exclamation or crying out, admiration or wondering, imprecation or cursing, obtestation or taking God and the world to witnes, or any such like as declare an impotent affection, as Chaucer of the Lady Cresseida by exclamation.

Or as Gascoine wrote very passionatly and well to purpose.

Petrarche in a sonet which Sir Thomas Wiat Englished excellently well, said in this figure by way of imprecation and obtestation: thus,

And so forth, &c.

We vse sometimes to proceede all by single words, without any close or coupling sauing that a little pause or comma is geuen to euery word. This figure for pleasure may be called in our vulgar the cutted comma, for that there cannot be a shorter diuision then at euery words end. The Greekes in their language call it short language, as thus.

If this loose language be vsed, not in single words, but in long clauses, it is called Asindeton, and in both cases we vtter in that fashion, when either we be earnest, or would seeme to make hast.

Ye haue another figure which we may call the figure of euen, because it goeth by clauses of egall quantitie, and not very long, but yet not so short as the cutted comma: and they geue good grace to a dittie, but specially to a prose. In this figure we once wrote in a melancholike humor these verses.

In a prose there should not be vsed at once of such euen clauses past three or foure at the most.

When so euer we multiply our speech by many words or clauses of one sence, the Greekes call it Sinonimia, as who would say, like or consenting names: the Latines hauing no fitte terme to giue him, called it by a name of euent, for (said they) many words of one nature and sence, one of them doth expound another. And therefore they called this figure the [Interpreter] I for my part had rather call him the figure of [store] because plenty of one manner of thing in our vulgar we call so. Aeneas asking whether his Captaine Orontes were dead or aliue, vsed this store of speeches all to one purpose.

Or if it be in single words, then thus.

Ye see that all these words, face, lookes, fauour, features, visage, countenance, are in sence but all one. Which store, neuerthelesse, doeth much beautifie and inlarge the matter. So said another.

Here faith, hope and trust be words of one effect, allowed to vs by this figure of store.

Otherwhiles we speak and be sorry for it, as if we had not wel spoken, so that we seeme to call in our word againe, and to pur in another fitter for the purpose: for which respects the Greekes called this manner of speech the figure of repentance: then for that vpon repentance commonly followes amendment, the Latins called it the figure of correction, in that the speaker seemeth to reforme that which was said amisse. I following the Greeke originall, choose to call him the penitent, or repentant: and singing in honor of the mayden Queen, meaning to praise her for her greatnesse of courage, ouershooting my selfe, called it first by the name

of pride: then fearing least fault might be found with that terme, by & by turned this word pride to praise: resembling her Maiesty to the Lion, being her owne noble armory, which by a slie construction purporteth magnanimitie. Thus in the latter end of a Parthemiade.

And in another Parthemiade thus insinuating her Maiesties great constancy in refusall of all marriages offred her, thus:

By which is intended, that it proceeded of a cold and chast complexion not easily allured to loue.

We haue another manner of speech much like to the repentant, but doth not as the same recant or vnsay a word that hath bene said before, putting another fitter in his place, but hauing spoken any thing to depraue the matter or partie, he denieth it not, but as it were helpeth it againe by another more fauourable speach: and so seemeth to make amends, for which cause it is called by the originall name in both languages, the Recompencer, as he that was merily asked the question, whether his wife were not a shrewe as well as others of his neighbours wiues, answered in this figure as pleasantly, for he could not well denie it.

another in his first preposition giuing a very faine commendation to the Courtiers life, weaning to make him amends, made it worse by a second proposition, thus:

And an other speaking to the incoragement of youth in studie and to be come excellent in letters and armes, said thus:

Our poet in his short ditties, but specially playing the Epigrammatist will vse to conclude and shut vp his Epigram with a verse or two, spoken in such sort, as it may seeme a manner of allowance to all the premisses, and that with a ioyfull approbation, which the Latines call Acclamatio, we therefore call this figure the surcloze or consenting close, as Virgill when he had largely spoken of Prince Eneas his successe and fortunes concluded with this close.

Tantae molis erat Romanum condere gentem.

In English thus:

Sir Philip Sidney very pretily closed vp a dittie in this sort.

And we in a Partheniade written of her Maiestie, declaring to what perils vertue is generally subiect, and applying that fortune to her selfe, closed it vp with this Epiphoneme.

As who would say her owne ouermuch lenitie and goodnesse, made her ill willers the more bold and presumptuous.

Lucretius Carus the philosopher and poet inueighing sore against the abuses of the superstitious religion of the Gentils, and recompting the wicked fact of king Agamemnon in sacrificing his only daughter Iphigenia, being a yoong damsell of excellent bewtie, to th'intent to please the wrathfull gods, hinderers of his nauigation, after he had said all, closed it vp in this one verse, spoken in Epiphonema.

Tantum relligio potuit suadere malorum.

In English thus:

It happens many times that to vrge and enforce the matter we speake of, we go still mounting by degrees and encreasing our speech with wordes or with sentences of more waight one then another, & is a figure of great both efficacie & ornament, as he that declaring the great calamitie of an infortunate prince, said thus:

By which it appeareth that to any noble Prince the losse of his estate ought not to be so greeuous, as of his honour, nor any of them both like to the lacke of his libertie, but that life is the dearest detriment of any other. We call this figure by the Greeke originall the Auancer or figure of encrease because euery word that is spoken is one of more weight then another.

And as we lamented the crueltie of an inexorable and vnfaithfull mistresse.

Where ye see how she is charged first with a fault, then with a secret sinne, afterward with a foule forfet, last of all with a most cruell & bloudy deede. And thus againe in a certaine louers complaint made to the like-effect.

In these verses you see how one crueltie surmounts another by degrees till it come to very slaughter and beyond, for it is thought a despite done to a dead carkas to be an euidence of greater crueltie then to haue killed him.

After the auancer followeth the abbaser working by wordes and sentences of extenuation or diminution. Whereupon we call him the Disabler of figure of Extenuation: and this extenuation is vsed to diuers purposes, sometimes for modesties sake, and to auoide the opinion of arrogancie, speaking of our selues or of ours, as he that disabled himselfe to his mistresse, thus.

It may be also done for despite to bring our aduersaries on contempt, as he that sayd by one (commended for a very braue souldier) disabling him scornefully, thus.

The subtiltie of the scoffe lieth in these Latine wordes [eminui & cominus pugnare.] Also we vse this king of Extenuation when we take in hand to comfort or cheare any perillous enterprise, making a great matter seeme small, and of litel difficultie, & is much vsed by captaines in the warre, when they (to giue courage to their souldiers) will seeme to disable the persons of their enemies, and abase their forces, and make light of euery thing that might be a discouragement to the attempt, as Hanniball did in his Oration to his souldiers, when they should come to passe the Alpes to enter

Italie, and for sharpnesse of the weather, and steepnesse of the mountaines their hearts began to faile them.

We vse it againe to excuse a fault, & to make an offence seeme lesse then it is, by giuing a terme more fauorable and of lesse vehemencie then the troth requires, as to say of a great robbery, that it was but a pilfry matter: of an arrant ruffian that he is a tall fellow of his hands: of a prodigall foole, that he is a kind hearted man: of a notorious vnthrift, a lustie youth, and such like phrases of extenuation, which fall more aptly to the office of the figure Curry fauell before remembred.

And we vse the like termes by way of pleasant familiaritie, and as it were for a Courtly maner of speach with our egalls or inferiours, as to call a young Gentlewoman Mall for Mary, Nell for Elmer: Iack for Iohn, Robin for Robert: or any other like affected termes spoken of pleasure, as in our triumphals calling familiarly vpon our Muse, I called her Moppe.

Vnderstanding by this word [Moppe[ a litle prety Lady, or tender young thing. For so we call litle fishes that be not come to their full growth [moppes,] as whiting moppes, gurnard moppes.

Also such termes are vsed to be giuen in derision and for a kind of contempt, as when we say Lording for Lord, & as the Spaniard that calleth an Earle of small reuenue Contadilo: the Italian calleth the poore man, by contempt pouerachio, or pouerino, the little beast animalculo or animaluchio, and such like diminutiues apperteining to this figure, the [Disabler] more ordinary in other languages than in our vulgar.

This figure of retire holds part with the propounder of which we spake before (prolepsis) because of this resumption of a former proposition vttered in generalitie to explane the same better by a particular diuision. But their difference is, in that the propounder resumes but the matter only. This [retire] resumes both the matter and the termes, and is therefore accompted one of the figures of repetition, and in that respect may be called by his originall

Greeke name the [Resounde] or the [retire] for this word [odos] serues both sences resound and retire. The vse of this figure, is seen in this dittie following.

Then haue ye a maner of speach, not so figuratiue as fit for argumentation, and worketh not vnlike the dilemma of the Logicians, because he propones two or moe matters entierly, and doth as it were set downe the whole tale or rekoning of an argument and then cleare euery part by it selfe, as thus.

Or as one that entreated for a faire young maide who was taken by the watch in London and carried to Bridewell to be punished.

Or as another pleaded his deserts with his mistresse.

The haue ye a figure very meete for Orators or eloquent perswaders such as our maker or Poet must in some cases she whim selfe to be, and is when we may conueniently vtter a matter in one

entier speach or proposition and will rather do it peecemeale and by distribution of euery part for amplification sake, as for example he that might say, a house was outragiously plucked downe: will not be satisfied so to say, but rather will speake it in this sort: they first vndermined the groundsills, they beate downe the walles, they vnfloored the loftes, they vntiled, it and pulled downe the roofe. For so in deede is a house pulled downe by circumstances, which this figure of distribution doth set forth euery one apart, and therefore I name him the distributor according to his originall, as wrate the Tuscane Poet in a Sonet which Sir Thomas Wyat translated with very good grace, thus.

All which might haue bene said in these two verses.

The zealous Poet writing in prayse of the maiden Queene would not seeme to wrap vp all her most excellent parts in a few words them entierly comprehending, but did it by a distributor or merismus in the negatiue for the better grace, thus.

And then concludes thus.

Where ye see that all the parts of her commendation which were particularly remembred in twenty verses before, are wrapt vp the the two verses of this last part, videl.

This figure serues for amplification, and also for ornament, and to enforce perswasion mightely. Sir Geffrey Chaucer, father of our English Poets, hath these verses following in the distributor.

Where he might haue said as much in these words: when vice abounds, and vertue decayeth in Albion, then &c. And as another said,

All which might haue bene said in these few words, when euery man in charge and authoritie doeth his duety, & executeth his function well, then is the common-wealth happy.

The Greeke Poets who made musicall ditties to be song to the lute or harpe, did vse to linke their staues together with one verse running throughout the whole song by equall distance, and was, for the most part, the first verse of the staffe, which kept so good sence and conformitie with the whole, as his often repetition did geue it greater grace. They called such linking verse Epimone, the Latines versus intercalaris, and we may terme him the Loue-burden, following the originall, or if it please you, the long repeate: in one respect because that one verse alone beareth the whole burden of the song according to the originall: in another respect, for that it comes by large distances to be often repeated, as in this ditty made by the noble knight Sir Philip Sidney,

Many times our Poet is caried by some occasion to report of a thing that is maruelous, and then he will seeme not to speake it simply but with some signe of admiration, as in our enterlude called the Woer.

Or as Cato the Romane Senatour said one day merily to his companion that walked with him, pointing his finger to a yong vnthrift in the streete who lately before had sold his patrimonie, of a goodly quantitie of salt marshes, lying neere vnto Capua shore.

Not much vnlike the wondrer haue ye another figure called the doubtfull, because oftentimes we will seeme to cast perils, and make doubt of things when by a plaine manner of speech wee might affirme or deny him, as thus of a cruell mother who murdred her owne child.

This manner of speech is vsed when we will not seeme, either for manner sake or to auoid tediousnesse, to trouble the iudge or hearer with all that we coudl say, but hauing said inough already, we referre the rest to their consideration, as he that said thus:

The fine and subtill perswader when his intent is to sting his

aduersary, or els to declare his mind in broad and liberal speeches, which might breede offence or scandall, he will seeme to bespeake pardon before hand, whereby his licentiousnes may be the better borne withall, as he that said:

Not much vnlike to the figure of reference, is there another with some little diuersitie which we call the impartener, because many times in pleading and perswading, we thinke it a very good policie to acquaint our iudge or hearer or very aduersarie with some part of our Counsell and aduice, and to aske their opinion, as who would say they could not otherwise thinke of the matter then we do. As he that had tolde a long tale before certaine noble women, of a matter somewhat in honour touching the Sex.

Maister Gorge is this figure, said very sweetly.

The good Orator vseth a manner of speach in his perswasion and is when all that should seeme to make against him being spoken by th'otherside, he will first admit it, and in th'end auoid all for his better aduantage, and this figure is much vsed by our English pleaders in the Starchamber and Chancery, which they call to confesse and auoid, if it be in case of crime or iniury, and is a very good way. For when the matter is so plaine that it cannot be denied or trauersed, it is good that it be iustified by confessall and auoidance. I call it the figure of admittance. As we once wrate to the reproofe of a Ladies faire but crueltie.

In many cases we are driuen for better perswasion to tell the cause that mooues vs to say thus or thus: or els when we would fortifie our allegations by rendring reasons to euery one, this assignation of cause the Greekes called Etiologia, which if we might without scorne of a new inuented terme call [Tellcause] it were right according to the Greeke originall: & I pray you why should we not? and with as good authoritie as the Greekes? Sir Thomas Smith, her Maiesties principall Secretary, and a man of great learning and grauitie, seeking to geue an English word to this Greeke word agamw called it Spitewed, or wedspite. Master Secretary Wilson geuing an English name to his arte of Logicke, called it Witcraft, me thinke I may be bolde with like liberty to call the figure Etiologia [Tell cause.] And this manner of speech is alwayes contemned, with these words, for, because, and such other confirmatiues. The Latines hauing no fitte name to geue it in one single word, gaue it no name at all, but by circumlocution. We also call him the reason-rendrer, and leaue the right English word [Tel cause] much better answering the Greeke originall. Aristotle was most excellent in vse of this figure, for he neuer propones any allegation, or makes any surmise, but he yeelds a reason or cause to fortifie and proue it, which geues it great credit. For example ye may take these verses, first pointing, than confirming by similitudes.

And this.

And in these verses.

And in this Disticque.

And in this other dittie of ours where the louer complaines of his Ladies crueltie, rendring for euer surmise a reason, and by telling the cause, seeketh (as it were) to get credit, thus.

Sometimes our error is so manifest, or we be so hardly prest with our aduersaries, as we cannot deny the fault layd vnto our charge: in which case it is good pollicie to excuse it by some allowable pretext, as did one whom his mistresse burdened with some vnkinde speeches which he had past of her, thus.

And againe in these,

Speaking before of the figure [Synecdoche] wee call him

[Quicke conceit] because he iniured in a single word onely by way of intendment or large meaning, but such as was speedily discouered by euery quicke wit, as by the halfe to vnderstand the whole, and many other waies appearing by the examples. But by this figure [Noema] the obscurity of the sence lieth not in a single word, but in an entier speech, whereof we do not so easily conceiue the meaning, but as it were by coniecture, because it is wittie and subtile or darke, which makes me therefore call him in our vulgar the [Close conceit] as he that said by himselfe and his wife, I thanke God in fortie winters that we haue liued together, neuer any of our neighbours set vs at one, meaning that they neuer fell out in all that space, which had bene the directer speech and more apert, and yet by intendment amounts all to one, being neuerthelesse dissemblable and in effect contrary. Pawlet Lord Treasorer of England, and first Marques of Winchester, with the like subtill speech gaue a quippe to Sir William Gyfford, who had married the Marques sister, and all her life time could neuer loue her nor like of her company, but when she was dead made the greatest moane for her in the world, and with teares and much lamentation vttered his griefe to the L. Treasorer, ô good brother quoth the Marques, I am right sory to see you now loue my sister so well, meaning that he shewed his loue too late, and should haue done it while she was a liue.

A great counsellour somewhat forgetting his modestie, vsed these words: Gods lady I reckon my selfe as good a man as he you talke of, and yet I am not able to do so. Yea sir quoth the party, your L. is too good to be a man, I would ye were a Saint, meaning he would he were dead, for none are shrined for Saints before they be dead.

The Logician vseth a definition to expresse the truth or nature of euery thing by his true kinde and difference, as to say wisedome is a prudent and wittie foresight and consideration of humane or worldly actions with their euentes. This definition is Logicall. The Oratour vseth another maner of definition, thus: Is this wisedome? no it is a certaine subtill knauish craftie wit, it is no industrie as ye call it, but a certaine busie brainsicknesse, for industrie is a liuely and vnweried search and occupation in honest

things, egernesse is an appetite in base and small matters.

It serueth many times to great purpose to preuent our aduersaries arguments, and take vpon vs to know before what our iudge or aduersary or hearer thinketh, and that we will seeme to vtter it before it be spoken or alleaged by them, in respect of which boldnesse to enter so deepely into another mans conceit or conscience, and to be so priuie of another mans mynde, gaue cause that this figure was called the [presumptuous]. I will also call him the figure of presupposall or the preuenter, for by reason we suppose before what may be said or perchaunce would be said by our aduersary or any other, we do preuent them of their aduantage, and do catch the ball (as they are wont to say) before it come to the ground.

It is also very many times vsed for a good pollicie in pleading or perswasion to make wise as if we set but light of the matter, and that therefore we do passe it ouer lightly when in deede we do then intend most effectually and despightfully if it be inuectiue to remember it: It is also when we will not seeme to know a thing, and yet we know it well inough, and may be likened to the maner of women, who as the common saying is, will say nay and take it.

It is said by maner of a pouerbiall speach that he who findes himselfe well should not wagge, euen so the perswader finding a substantiall point in his matter to serue his purpose, should dwell vpon that point longer then vpon any other lesse assured, and vse all endeuour to maintaine that one, & as it were to make his chief aboad thereupon, for which cause I name him the figure of aboad, according to the Latin name: Some take it not but for a course of argument & therefore hardly may one giue any examples thereof.

Now as arte and good pollicy in perswasion bids vs to abide & not to stirre from the point of our most aduantage, but the same to enforce and tarry vpon with all possible argument, so doth discretion will vs sometimes to flit from one matter to another, as a thing meete to be forsaken, and another entred vpon, I call him therefore the flitting figure, or figure of remoue, like as the other

before was called the figure of aboade.

Euen so againe, as it is wisdome for a perswader to tarrie and make his aboad as long as he may conueniently without tediousnes to the hearer, vpon his chiefe proofes or points of the cause tending to his aduantage, and likewise to depart againe when time serues, and goe to a new matter seruing the purpose aswell. So is it requisite many times for him to talke farre from the principall matter, and as it were to range aside, to th'intent by such extraordinary meane to induce or inferre other matter, aswell or better seruing the principal purpose, and neuertheles in season to returne home where he first strayed out. This maner of speech is termed the figure of digression by the Latines, following the Greeke originall, we also call him the straggler by allusion to the souldier that marches out of his array, or by those that keepe no order in their marche, as the battailes well ranged do: of this figure there need be geuen no example.

Occasion offers many times that our maker as an oratour, or perswader, or pleader should go roundly to worke, and by a quick and swift argument dispatch his perswasion, & as they are woont to say not to stand all day trifling to no purpose, but to rid it out of the way quickly. This is done by a manner of speech, both figuratiue and argumentatiue, when we do briefly set downe all our best reasons seruing the purpose, and reiect all of them sauing one, which we accept to satisfie the cause: as he that in a litigious case for land would prooue it not the aduersaries, but his clients.

Though we might call this figure very well and properly the [Paragon] yet dare I not so to doe for feare of the Courtiers enuy, who will haue no man vse that terme but after a courtly manner, that is, in praysing of horses, haukes, hounds, pearles, diamonds, rubies, emerodes, and other precious stones: specially of faire women whose excellencie is discouered by paragonizing or setting one to

another, which moued the zealous Poet, speaking of the mayden Queene, to call her the paragon of Queenes. This considered, I will let our figure enioy his best beknowen name, an call him stil in all ordinarie cases the figure of comparison: as when a man wil seeme to make things appeare good or bad, or better or worse, or more or lesse excellent, either vpon spite or for pleasure, or any other good affection, then he sets the lesse by the greater, or the greater to the lesse, the equall to his equall, and by such confronting of them together, driues out the true ods that is betwixt them, and makes it better appeare, as when we sang of our Soueraigne Lady thus, in the twentieth Partheniade.

And in the eighteene Partheniade thus.

&c. Concluding.

We are sometimes occasioned in our tale to report some speech from another mans mouth, as what a king said to his priuy counsell or subiect, a captaine to his souldier, a souldiar to his captaine, a man to a woman, and contrariwise: in which report we must alwaies geue to euery person his fit and naturall, & that which best becommeth him. For that speech becommeth a king which doth not a carter, and a young man that doeth not an old: an so in euery sort and degree. Virgil speaking in the person of Eneas, Turnus

and many other great Princes, and sometimes of meaner men, ye shall see what decencie euery of their speeches holdeth with the qualitie, degree and yeares of the speaker. To which examples I will for this time referre you.

So if by way of fiction we will seem to speake in another mans person, as if king Henry the eight were aliue, and should say of the towne of Bulleyn, what we by warre to the hazard of our person hardly obteined, our young sonne without any peril at all, for litle mony deliuered vp againe. Or if we should faine king Edward the thirde, vnderstanding how his successour Queene Marie had lost the towne of Calays by negligence, should say: That which the sword wanne, the distaffe hath lost. This manner of speech is by the figure Dialogismus, or the right reasoner.

In waightie causes and for great purposes, wise perswaders vse graue & weighty speaches, specially in matter of aduise or counsel, for which purpose there is a maner of speach to alleage textes or authorities of wittie sentence, such as smatch morall doctrine and teach wisedome and good behauiour, by the Greeke originall we call him the directour, by the Latin he is called sententia: we may call him the sage sayer, thus.

And that which our soueraigne Lady wrate in defiance of fortune.

Heede must be taken that such rules or sentences be choisly made and not often vsed least excesse breed lothsomnesse.

Arte and good pollicie moues vs many times to be earnest in our speach, and then we lay on such load and so go to it by heapes as if we would winne the game by multitude of words & speaches, not all of one but of diuers matter and sence, for which cause the

Latines called it congeries and we the heaping figure, as he that said

Or thus.

And thus by maister Edward Diar, vehement swift & passionatly.

But if such earnest and hastie heaping vp of speaches be made by way of recapitulation, which commonly is in the end of euery long tale and Oration, because the speaker seemes to make a collection of all the former materiall points, to binde them as it were in a bundle and lay them forth to enforce the cause and renew the hearers memory, then ye may geue him more properly the name of the [collectour] or recapitulatour, and serueth to very great purpose as in an hympne written by vs to the Queenes Maiestie entitled (Minerua) wherein speaking of the mutabilitie of fortune in the case of all Princes generally, wee seemed to exempt her Maiestie of all such casualtie, by reason she was by her destinie and many diuine partes in her, ordained to a most long and constant prosperitie in this world, concluding with this recapitulation.

Many times when we haue runne a long race in our tale spoken to the hearers, we do sodainly flye out & either speake or exclaime

at some other person or thing, and therefore the Greekes call such figure (as we do) the turnway or turnetale, & breedeth by such exchaunge a certaine recreation to the hearers minds, as this vsed by a louer to his vnkind mistresse.

And as we in our triumphals, speaking long to the Queenes Maiestie, vpon the sodaine we burst out in an exclamation to Phebus, seeming to draw in a new matter, thus.

And so returned againe to the first matter.

The matter and occasion leadeth vs many times to describe and set foorth many things, in such sort as it should appeare they were truly before our eyes though they were not present, which to do it requireth cunning: for nothing can be kindly counterfait or represented in his absence, but by great discretion in the doer. And if the things we couet to describe be not naturall or nor veritable, than yet the same axeth more cunning to do it, because to faine a thing that neuer was nor is like to be, proceedeth of a greater wit and sharper inuention than to describe things that be true.

And these be things that a poet or maker is woont to describe sometimes as true or naturall, and sometimes to faine as artificiall and not true. viz. The visage, speach and countenance of any person absent or dead: and this kinde of representation is called the Counterfait countenance: as Homer doth in his Ilades, diuerse

personages: namely Achilles and Thersites, according to the truth and not by fiction. And as our poet Chaucer doth in his Canterbury tales set forth the Sumner, Pardoner, Manciple, and the rest of the pilgrims, most naturally and pleasantly.

But if ye wil faine any person with such features, qualities & conditions, or if ye wil attribute any humane quality, as reason or speech to dombe creatures or other insensible things, & do study (as one may say) to giue them a humane person, it is not Prosopographia, but Prosopopeia, because it is by way of fiction, & no prettier examples can be giuen to you thereof, than in the Romant of the rose translated out of French by Chaucer, describing the persons of auarice, enuie, old age, and many others, whereby much moralitie is taught.

So if we describe the time or season of the yeare, as winter, summer, haruest, day, midnight, noone, euening, or such like: we call such description the counterfait time. Cronographia examples are euery where to be found.

And if this description be of any true place, citie, castell, hill, valley or sea, & such like: we call it the counterfait place Topographia, or if ye fayne places vntrue, as heauen, hell, paradise, the house of fame, the pallace of the sunne, the denne of sheepe, and such like which ye shall see in Poetes: so did Chaucer very well describe the country of Saluces in Italie, which ye may see, in his report of the Lady Gryfyll.

But if such description be made to represent the handling of any busines with the circumstances belonging therevnto as the manner of a battell, a feast, a marriage, a buriall or any other matter that lieth in feat and actiuitie: we call it then the counterfait action [Pragmatographia].

In this figure the Lord Nicholas Vaux a noble gentleman, and much delighted in vulgar making, & a man otherwise of no great leaning but hauing herein a maruelous facilitie, made a dittie representing the battayle and assault of Cupide, so excellently well, as for the gallant and propre application of his fiction in euery part, I cannot choose but set downe the greatest part of his ditty, for in truth it can not be amended.

As well to a good maker and Poet as to an excellent perswader in prose, the figure of Similitude is very necessary, by which we not onely bewtifie our tale, but also very much inforce & inlarge it. I say inforce because no one thing more preuaileth with all ordinary iudgements than perswasion by similitude. Now because there are sundry sorts of them, which also do worke after diuerse fashions in the hearers conceits, I will set them all foorth by a triple diuision, exempting the generall Similitude as their common Auncestour, and I will cal him by the name of Resemblance without any addition, from which I deriue three other sorts: and giue euery one his particular name, as Resemblance by Pourtrait or Imagery, which the Greeks call Icon, Resemblance morall or misticall, which they call Parabola, & Resemblance by example, which they call Paradigma, and first we will speake of the generall resemblance, or bare similitude, which may be thus spoken.

And in this other likening the forlorne louer to a striken deere.

And in this of ours where we liken glory to a shadow.

Againe in a ditty to a mistresse of ours, where we likened the cure of Loue to Achilles launce.

The Tuskan poet vseth this Resemblance, inuring as well by Dissimilitude as Similitude, likening himselfe (by Implication) to the flie, and neither to the eagle nor to the owle: very well Englished by Sir Thomas Wiat after his fashion, and by my selfe thus:

Againe in these likening a wise man to the true louer.

And in this resembling the learning of an euill man to the seedes sowen in barren ground.

And in these likening the wise man to an idiot.

Againe, for a louer, whose credit vpon some report had bene shake, he prayeth better opinion by similitude.

And in this working by resemblance in a kinde of dissimilitude betweene a father and a master.

And in these, likening the wise man to the Giant, the fool to the Dwarfe.

But when we liken an humane person to another in countenaunce, stature, speach or other qualitie, it is not called bare resemblance, but resemblaunce by imagerie or pourtrait, alluding to the painters terme, who yeldeth to th'eye a visible representation of the thing he describes and painteth in his table. So we commending her Maiestie for wisedome bewtie and magnanimitie likened her to the Serpent, the Lion and the Angell, because by common vsurpation, nothing is wiser then the Serpent, more couragious then the Lion, more bewtifull then the Angell. These are our verses in the end of the seuenth Partheniade.

And this maner of resemblaunce is not onely performed by likening of liuely creatures one to another, but also of any other naturall thing, bearing a proportion of similitude, as to liken yealow to gold, white to siluer, red to the rose, soft to silke, hard to the stone and such like. Sir Philip Sidney in the description of his mistresse excellently well handled this figure of resemblaunce by imagerie, as ye may see in his booke of Archadia: and ye may see the like, of our doings, in a Partheniade written of our soueraigne Lady, wherein we resemble euery part of her body to some naturall thing of excellent perfection in his kind, as of her forehead, browes and haire, thus.

And of her lips.

And of her eyes.

And of her breasts.

And all the rest that followeth, which may suffice to exemplifie your figure of Icon, or resemblance by imagerie and portrait.

But when soeuer by your similitude ye will seeme to teach any moralitie or good lesson by speeches misticall and darke, or farre sette, vnder a sence metaphoricall applying one naturall thing to another, or one case to another, inferring by them a like consequence in other cases the Greekes call it Parabola, which terme is also by custome accepted of vs: neuerthelesse we may call him in English the resemblance misticall: as when we liken a young childe to a greene twigge which ye may easilie bende euery way ye list: or an old man who laboureth with continuall infirmities, to a drie and dricksie oke. Such parables were all the preachings of Christ in the Gospell, as those of the wise and foolish virgins, of the euil steward, of the labourers in the vineyard, and a number more. And they may be fayned aswell as true: as those fables of Aesope, and other apologies inuented for doctrine sake by wise and graue men.

Finally, if in matter of counsell or perswasion we will seeme to liken one case to another, such as passe ordinarily in mans affaires, and doe compare the past with the present, gathering probabilitie of like successe to come in the things wee haue presently in hand: or if ye will draw the iudgements precedent and authorized by antiquitie as veritable, and peraduenture fayned and imagined for some purpose, into similitude or dissimilitude with our present actions and affaires it is called resemblance by example: as if one should say thus, Alexander the great in his expedition to Asia did thus, so did Hanniball comming into Spaine, so did Caesar

in Egypt, therfore all great Captains & Generals ought to doe it.

And thus againe, It hath bene alwayes vsuall among great and magnanimous princes in all ages, not only to repulse any iniury & inuasion from their owne realmes and dominions, but also with a charitable & Princely compassion to defend their good neighbors Princes and Potentats, from all oppression of tyrants & vsurpers. So did the Romaines by their armes restore many Kings of Asia and Affricke expulsed out of their kingdoms. So did K. Edward I. restablish Baliol rightfull owner of the crowne of Scotland against Robert le brus no lawfull King. So did king Edward the third aide Dampecter king of Spaine against Henry bastard and vsurper. So haue many English Princes holpen with their forces the poore Dukes of Britaine their ancient frends and allies, against the outrages of the French kings: and why may not the Queene our soueraine Lady with like honor and godly zele yeld protection to the people of the Low countries, her neerest neighbours to rescue them a free people from the Spanish seruitude.

And as this resemblance is of one mans action to another, so may it be made by examples of bruite beasts, aptly corresponding in qualitie or euent, as one that wrote certaine prety verses of the Emperor Maximinus, to warne him that he should not glory too much in his owne strength, for so he did in very deede, and would take any common souldier to taske at wrastling, or weapon, or in any other actiuitie and feates of armes, which was by the wiser sort misliked, these were the verses.

And so it fell out, for Maximinus was slaine in a mutinie of his souldiers, taking no warning by these examples written for his admonition.

3.20. The last and principall figure of our poeticall Ornament.

For the glorious lustre it setteth vpon our speech and language, the Greeks call is [Exargasia] the Latine [Expolitio] a terme

transferred from these polishers of marble or porphirite, who after it is rough hewen & reduced to that fashion they will, do set vpon it a goodly glasse, so smoth and cleere as ye may see your face in it, or otherwise as it fareth by the bare and naked body, which being attired in rich and gorgious apparell, seemeth to the common vsage of th'eye much more comely & bewtifull then the naturall. So doth this figure (which therefore I call the Gorgious) polish our speech & as it were attire it with copious & pleasant amplifications and much varietie of sentences all running vpon one point & to one intent: so as I doubt whether I may terme it a figure, or rather a masse of many figuratiue speaches, applied to the bewtifying of our tale or argument. In a worke of ours entituled Philocalia we haue strained to shew the vse & application of this figure and all others mentioned in this booke, to which we referre you. I finde none example in English meetre, so well maintayning this figure as that dittie of her Maiesties owne making passing sweete and harmonicall, which figure beyng as his very originall name purporteth the most bewtifull and gorgious of all others, it asketh in reason to be reserued for a last complement, and desciphred by the arte of a Ladies penne, her selfe beyng the most bewtifull, or rather bewtie of Queenes. And this was the occasion: our soueraigne Lady perceiuing how by the Sc. Q. residence within this Realme at so great libertie and ease (as were skarce meete for so great and daungerous a prysoner) bred secret factions among her people, and made many of the nobilitie incline to fauour her partie: some of them desirous of innouation in the state: others aspiring to greater fortunes by her libertie and life. The Queene our soueraigne Lady to declare that she was nothing ignorant of those secret practizes, though she had long with great wisdome and pacience dissembled it, writeth this ditty most sweet and sententious, not hiding from all such aspiring minds the daunger of their ambition and disloyaltie: which afterward fell out most truly by th'exemplary chastisement of sundry persons, who in fauour of the sayd Sc. Q. declining from her Maiestie, sought to interrupt the quiet of the Realme by many euill and vndutifull Practizes. The ditty is as followeth.

In a worke of ours entituled [Philo Calia] where we entreat of the loues betwene prince Philo and Lady Calia, in their mutual letters, messages, and speeches: we haue strained our muse to shew the vse and application of this figure, and of all others.

3.21. Of the vices or deformities in speach and writing principally noted by auncient Poets.

It hath bene said before how by ignorance of the maker a good figure may become a vice, and by his good discretion, a vicious speach go for a vertue in the Poeticall science. This saying is to be explaned and qualified, for some maner of speaches are alwayes intollerable and such as cannot be vsed with any decencie, but are euer vndecent namely barbarousnesse, incongruitie, ill disposition, fond affectation, rusticitie, and all extreme darknesse, such as it is not possible for a man to vnderstand the matter without an interpretour, all which partes are generall t be banished out of euery langage, vnlesse it may appeare that the maker or Poet do it for the nonce, as it was reported by the Philosopher Heraclitus that he wrote in obscure and darker termes of purpose not to be vnderstood, whence he merited the nickname Scotinus, otherwise I see not but the rest of the common faultes may be borne with

sometimes, or passe without any great reproofe, not being vsed ouermuch or out of season as I said before: so as euery surplusage or preposterous placing or vndue iteration or darke word, or doubtfull speach are not so narrowly to be looked vpon in a large poeme, nor specially in the pretie Poesies and deuises of Ladies, and Gentlewomen makers, whom we would not haue too precise Poets least with their shrewd wits, when they were maried they might become a little to phantasticall wiues, neuerthelesse because we seem to promise an arte, which doth not iustly admit any wilful errour in the teacher, and to th'end we may not be carped at by these methodicall men, that we haue omitted any necessary point in this businesse to be regarded, I will speake somewhat touching these viciosities of language particularly and briefly, leauing no little to the Grammarians for maintenaunce of the scholasticall warre, and altercations: we for our part condescending in this deuise of ours, to the appetite of Princely personages & other so tender & quesie complexions in Court, as are annoyed with nothing more then long lessons and ouermuch good order.

3.22. Some vices in speaches and writing are alwayes intollerable, some others now and then borne withall by licence of approued authors and custome.

The foulest vice in language is to speake barbarously: this terme grew by the great pride of the Greekes and Latines, when they were dominatours of the world reckoning no language so sweete and ciuill as their owne, and that all nations beside them selues were rude and vnciuill, which they called barbarous: So as when any straunge word not of the naturall Greeke or Latin was spoken, in the old time they called it barbarisme, or when any of their owne naturall wordes were sounded and pronounced with straunge and ill shapen accents, or written by wrong ortographie, as he that would say with vs in England, a dousand for a thousand, isterday, for yesterday, as commonly the Dutch and French people do, they said it was barbarously spoken. The Italian at this day by like arrogance calleth the Frenchman, Spaniard, Dutch, English, and all other breed behither their mountaines Appennines,

Tramountani, as who would say Barbarous. This terme being then so vsed by the auncient Greekes, there haue bene since, notwithstanding who haue digged for the Etimologie somewhat deeper, and many of them haue said that it was spoken by the rude and barking language of the AFfricans now called Barbarians, who had great trafficke with the Greekes and Romanes, but that can not be so, for that part of Affricke hath but of late receiued the name of Burbarie, and some others rather thinke that of this word Barbarous, that countrey came to be called Barbaria and but few yeares in respect agone. Others among whom is Ihan Leon a Moore of Granada, will seeme to deriue Barbaria, from this word Bar, twise iterate thus Barbar, as much to say as flye, flye, which chaunced in a persecution of the Arabians by some seditious Mahometanes in the time of their Pontif. Habdul mumi, when they were had in the chase, & driuen out of Arabia Westward into the countreys of Mauritania, & during the pursuite cried one vpon another flye away, flye away, or passe passe, by which occasion they say, when the Arabians which were had in chase came to stay and settle them selues in that part of Affrica, they called it Barbar, as much to say, the region of their flight or pursuite. Thus much for the terme, though not greatly pertinent to the matter, yet not vnpleasant to know for them that delight in such niceties.

Your next intollerable vice is solecismus or incongruitie, as when we speake false English, that is by misusing the Grammaticall rules to be obserued in cases, genders, tenses and such like, euery poore scholler knowes the fault & cals it the breaking of Priscians head, for he was among the Latines a principall Grammarian.

Ye haue another intollerable ill maner of speach, which by the Greekes originall we may call fonde affectation, and is when we affect new words and phrases other then the good speakers and writers in any language, or the custome hath allowed, & is the common fault of young schollers not halfe well studied before they come from the Vniuersitie or schooles, and when they come to their friends, or happen to get some benefice or other promotion in their countreys, will seeme to coigne fine wordes out of the Latin, and to vse new fangled speaches, thereby to shew themselues among the ignorant the better learned.

Another of your intollerable vices is that which the Greekes call Soraismus, & we may call the [mingle mangle] as when we make our speach or writinges of sundry languages vsing some Italian word, or French, or Spanish, or Dutch, or Scottish, not for the nonce or for any purpose (which were in part excusable) but ignorantly and affectedly as one that said vsing this French word Roy, to make ryme with another verse, thus.

The verse is good but the terme peeuishly affected.

Another of reasonable good facilitie in translation finding certaine of the hymnes of Pyndarus and of Anacreons odes, and other Lirickes among the Greekes very well translated by Rounsard the French Poet, & applied to the honour of a great Prince in France, comes our minion and translates the same out of French into English, and applieth them to the honour of a great noble man in England (wherein I commend his reuerent minde and duetie) but doth so impudently robbe the French Poet both of his prayse and also of his French termes, that I cannot so much pitie him as be angry with him for his iniurious dealing (our sayd maker not being ashamed to vse these French wordes freddon, egar, superbous, filanding, celest, calabrois, thebanois and a number of others, for English wordes, which haue no maner of conformitie with our language either by custome or deriuation which may make them tollerable. And in the end (which is worst of all) makes his vaunt that neuer English finger but his hath toucht Pindars string which was neuerthelesse word by word as Rounsard had said before by like braggery. These his verses.

And of an ingenious inuention, infanted with pleasant trauaile.

Whereas the French word is enfante as much to say borne as a child, in another verse he saith.

I will freddon in thine honour.

For I will shake or quiuer my fingers, for so in French is freddon, and in another verse.

This word egar is as much to say as to wander or stray out of

the way, which in our English is not receiued, not these wordes calabrois, thebanois, but rather calabrian, theban [filanding sisters] for the spinning sisters: this man deserues to be endited of pety larceny for pilfring other mens deuises from them & conuerting them to his owne vse, for in deede as I would wish euery inuentour which is the very Poet to receaue the prayses of his inuention, so would I not haue a translatour be ashamed to be acknowen of his translation.

Another of your intollerable vices is ill disposition or placing of your words in a clause or sentence: as when you will place your adiectiue after your substantiue, thus: Mayde faire, widow riche, priest holy, and such like, which though the Latines did admit, yet our English did not, as one that said ridiculously.

In my yeares lustie, many a deed doughtie did I.

All these remembred faults be intollerable and euer vndecent.

Now haue ye other vicious manners of speech, but sometimes and in some cases tollerable, and chiefly to the intent to mooue laughter, and to make sport, or to giue it some prety strange grace, and is when we vse such wordes as may be drawen to a foule and vnshamefast sence, as one that would say to a young woman, I pray you let me iape with you, which in deed is no more but let me sport with you. Yea and though it were not altogether so directly spoken, the very sounding of the word were not commendable, as he that in the presence of Ladies would vse this common Prouerbe,

For it may be taken in another peruerser sence by that sorte of persons that heare it, in whose eares no such matter ought almost to be called in memory, this vice is called by the Greekes Cacemphaton, we call it the vnshamefast or figure of foule speech, which our courtly maker shall in any case shunne, least of a Poet he become a Buffon or rayling companion, the Latins called him Scurra. There is also another sort of ilfauoured speech subiect to this vice, but resting more in the manner of the ilshapen sound and accent, than for the matter it selfe, which may easily be auoyded in choosing your wordes those that bee of the pleasantest orthography, and not to rime too many like sounding words together.

Ye haue another manner of composing your metre nothing commendable, specially if it be too much vsed, and is when our maker takes too much delight to fill his verse with wordes beginning with a letter, as an English rimer that said:

And as the Monke we spake of before, wrote a whole Poeme to the honor of Carolus Caluus, euery word in his verse beginning with C, thus:

Carmina clarisonae Caluis cantate camenae.

Many of our English makers vse it too much, yet we confesse it doth not ill but pretily becomes the meetre, if ye passe not two or three words in one verse, and vse it not very much, as he that said by way of Epithete.

The smoakie sights: the trickling teares.

And such like, for such composition makes the meetre runne away smoother, and passeth from the lippes with more facilitie by iteration of a letter then by alteration, which alteration of a letter requires an exchange of ministery and office in the lippes, teeth or palate, and so doth not the iteration.

Your misplacing and preposterous placing is not all one in behauiour of language, for the misplacing is alwaies intollerable, but the preposterous is a pardonable fault, and many times giues a pretie grace vnto the speech. We call it by a common saying to set the carte before the horse, and it may be done, eyther by a single word or by a clause of speech: by a single word thus:

And if I not performe, God let me neuer thriue.

For performe not: and this vice is sometime tollerable inough, but if the word carry any notable sence, it is a vice not tollerable, as he that said praising a woman for her red lippes, thus:

A corrall lippe of hew.

Which is no good speech, because either he should haue sayd no more but a corrall lip, which had bene inough to declare the rednesse, or els he should haue said, a lip of corrall hew, and not a corrall lip of hew. Now if this disorder be in a whole clause which carieth more sentence then a word, it is then worst of all.

Ye haue another vicious speech which the Greekes call Acyron,

we call it the vncouthe, and is when we vse an obscure and darke word, and vtterly repugnant to that we would expresse, if it be not by vertue of the figures metaphore, allegorie, abusion, or such other laudable figure before remembred, as he that said by way of Epithete.

A dongeon deepe, a dampe as darke as hell.

Where it is euident that a dampe being but a breath or vapour, and not to be discerned by the eye, ought not to haue this epithete (darke,) no more then another that praysing his mistresse for her bewtifull haire, said very improperly and with an vncouth terme.

Whereas this word raigne is ill applied to the bewtie of a womans haire, and might better haue bene spoken of her whole person, in which bewtie, fauour, and good grace, may perhaps in some sort be said to raigne as our selues wrate, in a Partheniade praising her Maiesties countenance, thus:

Because this word Maiestie is a word expressing a certain Soueraigne dignitie, as well as a quallitie of countenance, and therefore may properly be said to raigne, & requires no meaner a word to set him sooth by. So it is not of the bewtie that remaines in a womans haire, or in her hand or any other member: therfore when ye see all these improper or harde Epithets vsed, ye may put them in the number of [vncouths] as one that said, the flouds of graces: I haue heard of the flouds of teares, and the flouds of eloquence, or of any thing that may resemble the nature of a water-course, and in that respect we say also, the streames of teares, and the streames of vtterance, but not the streames of graces, or of beautie. Such manner of vncouth speech did the Tanner of Tamworth vse to king Edward the fourth, which Tanner hauing a great while mistaken him, and vsed very broad talke with him, at length perceiuing by his traine that it was the king, was afraide he should be punished for it, said thus with a certain rude repentance.

I hope I shall be hanged to morrow.

For [I feare me] I shall be hanged, whereat the king laughed a

good, not only to see the Tanners feare, but also to heare his ill shapen terme, and gaue him for recompence of his good sport, the inheritance of Plumton parke, I am afraid the Poets of our time that speake more finely and correctly will come too short of such a reward.

Also the Poet or makers speech becomes vicious and vnpleasant by nothing more than by vsing too much surplusage: and this lieth not only in a word or two more than ordinary, but in whole clauses, and peraduenture large sentences impertinently spoken, or with more labour and curiositie than is requisite. The first surplusage the Greekes call Pleonasmus, I call him [too full speech] and is no great fault, as if one should say, I heard it with mine eares, and saw it with mine eyes, as if a man could heare with his heeles, or see with his nose. We our selues vsed this superfluous speech in a verse written of our mistresse, neuertheles, not much to be misliked, for euen a vice sometime being seasonably vsed, hath a pretie grace,

As, if she liued euer she could euer die, or that one might see her crowned without his eyes.

Another part of surplusage is called Macrologia, or long language, when we vse large clauses or sentences more than is requisite to the matter: it is also named by the Greeks Perissologia, as he that said, the Ambassadours after they had receiued this answere at the kings hands, they tooke their leaue and returned home into their countrey from whence they came.

So said another of our rimers, meaning to shew the great annoy and difficultie of those warres of Troy, caued for Helenas sake.

These clauses (be with them and they with him) are surplusage, and one of them very impertinent, because it could not otherwise be intended, but that Menelaus, fighting with the Troians, the

Troians must of necessitie fight with him.

Another point of surplusage lieth not so much in superfluitie of your words, as of your trauaile to describe the matter which yee take in hand, and that ye ouer-labour your selfe in your businesse. And therefore the Greekes call it Periergia, we call it ouer-labor, iumpe with the originall: or rather [the curious] for his ouermuch curiositie and studie to shew himselfe fine in a light matter, as one of our late makers, who in most of his things wrote very well, in this (to mine opinion) more curiously than needed, the matter being ripely considered: yet is his verse very good, and his meetre cleanly. His intent was to declare how vpon the tenth day of March he crossed the riuer of Thames, to walke in Saint Georges field, the matter was not great as ye may suppose.

First, the whole matter is not worth all this solemne circumstance to describe the tenth day of March, but if he had left at the two first verses, it had bene inough. But when he comes with two other verses to enlarge his description, it is not only more than needes, but also very ridiculous, for he makes wise, as if he had not bene a man learned in some of the mathematickes (by learned lore) that he could not haue told that the x. of March had fallen in the spring of the yeare: which euery carter, and also euery child knoweth without any learning. Then also, when he saith [Ver approcht, and frosty winter fled] though it were a surplusage (because one season must needes geue place to the other) yet doeth it well inough passe without blame in the maker. These, and a hundred more of such faultie and impertinent speeches may yee finde amongst vs vulgar Poets, when we be carelesse of our doings.

It is no small fault in a maker to vse such wordes and termes as do diminish and abbase the matter he would seeme to set forth, by imparing the dignitie, height vigour or maiestie of the cause he takes in hand, as one that would say king Philip shrewdly harmed

the towne of S. Quintaines, when in deede he wanne it and put it to the sacke, and that king Henry the eight made spoiles in Turwin, when as in deede lie did more then spoile it, for he caused it to be defaced and razed flat to the earth, and made it inhabitable. Therefore the historiographer that should by such wordes report of these two kings gestes in that behalfe, should greatly blemish the honour of their doings and almost speake vntruly and iniuriously by way of abbasement, as another of our bad rymers that very indecently said.

A misers mynde thou hast, thou hast a Princes pelfe.

A lewd terme to be giuen to a Princes treasure (pelfe) and was a little more manerly spoken by Seriant Bendlowes, when in a progresse time comming to salute the Queene in Huntingtonshire he said to her cochman, stay thy cart good fellow, stay thy cart, that I may speake to the Queene, whereat her Maiestie laughed as she had bene tickled, and all the rest of the company although very graciously (as her manner is) she gaue him great shankes and her hand to kisse. These and such other base wordes do greatly disgrace the thing & the speaker of writer: the Greekes call it [Tapinosis] we the [abbaser].

Others there be that fall into the contrary vice by vsing such bombasted wordes, as seeme altogether farced full of winde, being a great deale to high and loftie for the matter, whereof ye may finde too many in all popular rymers.

Then haue ye one other vicious speach with which we will finish this Chapter, and is when we speake or write doubtfully and that the sence may be taken two wayes, such ambiguous termes they call Amphibologia, we call it the ambiguous, or figure of sence incertaine, as if one should say Thomas Tayler saw William Tyler dronke, it is indifferent to thinke either th'one or th'other dronke. Thus said a gentleman in our vulgar pretily notwithstanding because he did it not ignorantly, but for the nonce

No man can tell by this, whether the mistresse or the man, slept or wept: these doubtfull speaches were vsed much in the old times by their false Prophets as appeareth by the Oracles of Delphos and

of the Sybilles prophecies deuised by the religious persons of those dayes to abuse the superstitious people, and to encomber their busie braynes with vaine hope or vaine feare.

Luciannus the merry Greeke reciteth a great number of them, deuised by a coosening companion one Alexander, to get himselfe the name and reputation of the God Aesculapius, and in effect all our old, Brittish and Saxon prophesies be of the same sort, that turne them on which side ye will, the matter of them may be verified, neuerthelesse carryeth generally such force in the heades of fonde people, that by the comfort of those blind prophecies many insurrections and rebellions haue bene stirred vp in this Realme, as that of Iacke Straw, & Iacke Cade in Richard the seconds time, and in our time by a seditious fellow in Norffolke calling himself Captaine Ket and others in other places of the Realme lead altogether by certaine propheticall rymes, which might be constred two or three wayes as well as to that one whereunto the rebelles applied it, our maker shall therefore auoyde all such ambiguous speaches vnlesse it be when he doth it for the nonce and for some purpose.

3.23. What it is that generally makes our speach well pleasing & commendable, and of that which the Latines call Decorum.

In all things to vse decencie, is it onely that giueth euery thing his good grace & without which nothing in mans speach could seeme good or gracious, in so much as many times it makes a bewtifull figure fall into a deformitie, and on th'other side a vicious speach seeme pleasaunt and bewtifull: this decencie is therfore the line & leuell for al good makers to do their busines by. But herein resteth the difficultie, to know what this good grace is, & wherein it consisteth, for peraduenture it be easier to conceaue then to expresse, we wil therfore examine it to the bottome & say: that euery thing which pleaseth the mind or sences, & the mind by the sences as by means instrumentall, doth it for some amiable point or qualitie that is in it, which draweth them to a good liking and contentment with their proper obiects. But that cannot be if they discouer any illfauorednesse or disproportion to the partes apprehensiue,

as for example, when a sound is either too loude or too low or otherwise confuse, the eare is ill affected: so is th'eye if the coulour be sad or not liminous and recreatiue, or the shape of a membred body without his due measures and simmetry, and the like of euery other sence in his proper function. These excesses or defectes or confusions and disorders in the sensible obiectes are deformities and vnseemely to the sence. In like sort the mynde for the things that be his mentall obiectes hath his good graces and his bad, whereof th'one contents him wonderous well, th'other displeaseth him continually, no more nor no lesse then ye see the discordes of musicke do to a well tuned eare. The Greekes call this good grace of euery thing in his kinde, poripon, the Latines [decorum] we in our vulgar call it by a scholasticall terme [decencie] our owne Saxon English terme is [seemelynesse] that is to say, for his good shape and vtter appearance well pleasing the eye, we call it also [comelynesse] for the delight it bringeth comming towardes vs, and to that purpose may be called [pleasant approche] so as euery way seeking to expresse this prepon of the Greekes and decorum of the Latines, we are faine in our vulgar toung to borrow the terme which our eye onely for his noble prerogatiue ouer all the rest of the sences doth vsurpe, and to apply the same to all good, comely, pleasant and honest things, euen to the spirituall obiectes of the mynde, which stand no lesse in the due proportion of reason and discourse than any other materiall thing doth in his sensible bewtie, proportion and comelynesse.

Now because this comelynesse resteth in the good conformitie of many things and their sundry circumstances, with respect one to another, so as there be found a iust correspondencie betweene them by this or that relation, the Greekes call it Analogie or a conuenient proportion. This louely conformitie, or proportion, or conueniencie betweene the sence and the sensible hath nature her selfe first most carefully obserued in all her owne workes, then also by kinde graft it in the appetites of euery creature working by intelligence to couet and desire: and in their actions to imitate & performe: and of man chiefly before any other creature aswell in his speaches as in euery other part of his behauiour. And this in generalitie and by an vsuall terme is that which the Latines call

[decorum]. So albeit we before alleaged that all our figures be but transgressions of our dayly speach, yet if they fall out decently to the good liking of the mynde or eare and to the bewtifying of the matter or language, all is well, if indecently, and to the eares and myndes misliking (be the figure of it selfe neuer so commendable) all is amisse, the election is the writers, the iudgement is the worlds, as theirs to whom the reading apperteineth. But since the actions of man with their circumstances be infinite, and the world likewise replenished with many iudgements, it may be a question who shal haue the determination of such controuersie as may arise whether this or that action or speach be decent or indecent: and verely it seemes to go all by discretion, not perchaunce of euery one, but by a learned and experienced discretion, for otherwise seemes the decorum to a weake and ignorant iudgement, then it doeth to one of better knowledge and experience: which sheweth that it resteth in the discerning part of the minde, so as he who can make the best and most differences of things by reasonable and wittie distinction is to be the fittest iudge or sentencer of [decencie]. Such generally is the discreetest man, particularly in any art the most skilfull and discreetest, and in all other things for the more part those that be of much obseruation and greatest experience. The case then standing that discretion must chiefly guide all those businesse, since there be sundry sortes of discretion all vnlike, euen as there be men of action or art, I see no way so fit to enable a man truly to estimate of [decencie] as example, by whose veritie we may deeme the differences of things and their proportions, and by particular discussions come at length to sentence of it generally, and also in our behauiours the more easily to put it in execution. But by reason of the sundry circumstances, that mans affaires are as it were wrapt in, this [decencie] , in respect of the person who speakes: another of his to whom it is spoken: another of whom we speake: another of what we speake, and in what place and time and to what purpose. And as it is of speach, so of al other our behauiours. We wil therefore set you down some few examples of euery circumstance how it alters the decencie of speach or action. And by these few shal ye be able to gather a number more to confirme and establish your iudgement by a perfit discretion.

This decencie, so far foorth as apperteineth to the consideration of our art, resteth in writing, speech and behauiour. But because writing is no more then the image or character of speech, they shall goe together in these our obseruations. And first wee wil sort you out diuers points, in which the wife and learned men of times past haue noted much decency or vndecencie, euery man according to his discretion, as it hath bene said afore: but wherein for the most part all discreete men doe generally agree, and varie not in opinion, whereof the examples I will geue you be worthie of remembrance: & though they brought with them no doctrine or institution at all, yet for the solace they may geue the readers, after such a rable of scholastical precepts which be tedious, these reports being of the nature of matters historicall, they are to be embraced: but olde memories are very profitable to the mind, and serue as a glasse to looke vpon and behold the euents of time, and more exactly to skan the trueth of euery case that shall happen in the affaires of man, and many there be that haply doe not obserue euery particularitie in matter of decencie or vndecencie: and yet when the case is tolde them by another man, they commonly geue the same sentence vpon it. But yet whosoeuer obserueth much, shalbe counted the wisest and discreetest man, and whosoeuer spends all his life in his owne vaine actions and conceits, and obserues no mans elfe, he shal in the ende prooue but a simple man. In which respect it is alwaies said, one man of experience is wiser than tenne learned men, because of his long and studious obseruation and often triall.

And your decencies are of sundrie sorts, according to the many circumstances accompanying our writing speech or behauiour, so as in the very sound or voice or him that speaketh, there is a decencie that becommeth, and an vndecencie that misbecommeth vs, which th'Emperor Anthonine marked well in the Orator Philiseus, who spake before him with so small and shrill a voice as the Emperor was greatly annoyed therewith, and to make him shorten his tale, said, by thy beard thou shouldst be a man, but by thy voice a woman.

Phauorinus the Philosopher was counted very wise and well learned, but a little too talkatiue and full of words: for the which Timocrates reprooued him in the hearing of one Polemon. That is no wonder quoth Polemon, for so be all women. And besides, Phauorinus being knowen for an Eunuke or gelded man, came by the same nippe to be noted as an effeminate and degenerate person.

And there is a measure to be vsed in a mans speech or tale, so as it be neither for shortnesse too darke, nor for length too tedious. Which madeCleomenes king of the Lacedemonians geue this vnpleasant answere to the Ambassadors of the Samiens, who had tolde him a long message from their Citie, and desired to know his pleasure in it. My maisters (saith he) the first part of your tale was so long, that I remember it not, which made that the second I vnderstoode not, and as for the third part I doe nothing well allow of. Great princes and graue counsellers who haue little spare leisure to hearken, would haue speeches vsed to them such as be short and sweete.

And if they be spoken by a man of account, or one who for his yeares, profession or dignitie should be thought wise & reuerend, his speeches & words should also be graue, pithie & sententious, which was well noted by king Antiochus, who likened Hermogenes the famous Orator of Greece, vnto these fowles in their moulting time, when their feathers be sick, and be so loase in the flesh that at any little rowse they can easilie shake them off; so saith he, can Hermogenes of all the men that euer I knew, as easilie deliuer from him his vaine and impertinent speeches and words.

And there is a decencie, that euery speech should be to the appetite and delight, or dignitie of the hearer & not for any respect arrogant or vndutifull, as was that of Alexander sent Embassadour from the Athenians to th'Emperour Marcus, this man seing th'emperour not so attentiue to his tale, as he would haue had him, said by way of interruption, Caesar I pray thee giue me better eare, it seemest thou knowest me not, nor from whom I came: the Emperour nothing well liking his bold malapert speech, said: thou art deceyued, for I heare thee and know well inough, that thou art that fine, foolish, curious, sawcie Alexander that tendest to nothing

but to combe & cury thy haire, to pare thy nailes, to pick thy teeth, and to perfume thy selfe with sweet oyles, that no man may abide the sent of thee. Prowde speeches, and too much finesse and curiousitie is not commendable in an Embassadour. And I haue knowen in my time such of them, as studied more vpon what apparell they should weare, and what countenaunces they should keepe at the times of their audience, then they did vpon th'effect of their errant or commission.

And there is decency in that euery man should talke of the things they haue best skill of, and not in that, their knowledge and learning serueth them not to do, as we are wont to say, he speaketh of Robin hood that neuer shot in his bow: there came a great Oratour before Cleomenes king of Lacedemonia, and vttered much matter to him touching fortitude and valiancie in the warres: the king laughed: why laughest thou quoth the learned man, since thou art a king thy selfe, and one whom fortitude best becommeth? why said Cleomenes would it not make any body laugh, to heare the swallow who feeds onely vpon flies, to boast of his great pray, and see the eagle stand by and say nothing? if thou wert a man of warre or euer hadst bene day of thy life, I would not laugh to here thee speake of valiancie, but neuer being so, & speaking before an old captaine I can not choose but laugh.

And some things and speaches are decent or indecent in respect of the time they be spoken or done in. As when a great clerk presented king Antiochus with a booke treating all of iustice, the king that time lying at the siege of a towne, who lookt vpon the title of the booke, and cast it to him againe: saying, what a diuell tellest thou to me of iustice, now thou seest me vse force and do the best I can to bereeue mine enimie of his towne? euery thing hath his season which is called Opportunitie, and the vnfitnesse or vndecency of the time is called Importunitie.

Sometime the vndecency ariseth by the indignitie of the word in respect of the speaker himselfe, as whan a daughter of Fraunce and next heyre generall to the crowne (if the law Salique had not barred her) being set in a great chaufe by some harde words giuen her by another prince of the bloud, said her anger, thou durst not haue said thus much to me if God had giuen me a paire of, &c.

and told all out, meaning if God had made her a man and not a woman she had bene king of Fraunce. The word became not the greatnesse of her person, and much lesse her sex, whose chiefe vertue is shamefastnesse, which the Latines call Verecundia, that is a naturall feare to be noted with any impudicitie: so as when they heare or see any thing tending that way they commonly blush, & is a part greatly praised in all women.

Yet will ye see in many cases how pleasant speeches and fauouring some skurrillity and vnshamefastnes haue now and then a certaine decencie, and well become both the speaker to say, and the hearer to abide, but that is by reason of some other circumstance, as when the speaker himselfe is knowne to be a common iester or buffon, such as take vpon them to make princes merry, or when some occasion is giuen by the hearer to induce such a pleasaunt speach, and in many other cases whereof no generall rule can be giuen, but are best knowen by example: as when Sir Andrew Flamock king Henry the eights standerdbearer, a merry conceyted man and apt to skoffe, waiting one day at the kings heeles when he entred the parke at Greenewich, the king blew his horne, Flamock hauing his belly full, and his tayle at commaundement, gaue out a rappe nothing faintly, that the king turned him about a said how now sirra? Flamock not well knowing how to excuse his vnmannerly act, if it please you Sir quoth he, your Maiesty blew one blast for the keeper and I another for his man. The king laughed hartily and tooke it nothing offensiuely: for indeed as the case fell out it was not vndecently spoken by Sir Andrew Flamock, for it was the cleaneliest excuse he could make, and a merry implicatiue in termes nothing odious, and therefore a sporting satisfaction to the kings mind, in a matter which without some such merry answere could not haue bene well taken. So was Flamocks action most vncomely, but his speech excellently well becomming the occasion.

But at another time and in another like case, the same skurrillitie of Flamock was more offensiue, because it was more indecent. As when the king hauing Flamock with him in his barge, passing from Westminster to Greenewich to visite a fayre Lady whom the king loued and was lodged in the tower of the Parke: the

king comming within sight of the tower, and being disposed to be merry, said, Flamock let vs rime: as well as I can said Flamock if it please your grace. The king began thus:

Flamock for aunswer: Within this hower, she will, & c. with the rest in so vncleanly termes, as might not now become me by the rule of Decorum to vtter writing to so great a Maiestie, but the king tooke them in so euill part, as he bit Flamock auant varlet, and that he should no more be so neere vnto him. And wherein I would faine learne, lay this vndecencie? in the skurrill and filthy termes not meete for a kings eare? perchance so. For the king was a wise and graue man, and though he hated not a faire woman, yet liked he nothing well to heare speeches of ribaudrie: as they report of th'emperour Octauian: Licet fuerit ipse incontinentissimus, fuit tamen incontinentie, seuerissimus vltor. But the very cause in deed was for that Flamocks reply answered not the kings expectation, for the kings rime commencing with a pleasant and amorous proposition: Sir Andrew Flamock to finish ti not with loue but with lothsomnesse, by termes very rude and vnciuill, and seing the king greatly fauour that Ladie for her much beauty by like or some other good partes, by his fastidious aunswer to make her seeme odious to him, it helde a great disproportion to the kings appetite, for nothing is so vnpleasant to a man, as to be encountred in his chiefe affection, & specially in his loues, & whom we honour we should also reuerence their appetite, or at the least beare with them (not being wicked and vtterly euill) and whatsoeuer they do affect, we do not as becommeth vs if we make it seeme to them horrible. This in mine opinion was the chiefe cause of the vndecencie and also of the kings offence. Aristotle the great philosopher knowing this very well, what time he put Calistenes to king Alexander the greats seruice gaue him this lesson. Sirra quoth he, ye go now from a scholer to be a courtier, see ye speake to the king your maister, either nothing at all, or els that which pleaseth him, which rule if Calistenes had followed and forborne to crosse the kings appetite in diuerse speeches, it had not cost him so

deepely as afterward it did. A like matter of offence fell out betweene th'Emperour Charles the fifth, & an Embassadour of king Henry the eight, whom I could name but will not for the great opinion the world had of his wisdome and sufficiency in that behalfe, and all for misusing of a terme. The king in the matter of controuersie betwixt him and Ladie Catherine of Castill the Emperours awnt, found himselfe grieued that the Emperour should take her part and worke vnder hand with the Pope to hinder the diuorce: and gaue him Embassadour commission in good termes to open his griefes to the Emperour, and to expostulat with his Maiestie, for that he seemed to forget the kings great kindnesse and friendship before times vsed with th'Emperour, aswell by disbursing for him sundry great summers of monie which were not all yet repayd: as also by furnishing him at his neede with store of man and munition to his warres, and now to be thus vsed he thought it a very euill requitall. The Embassadour for too much animositie and more then needed in the case, or perchance by ignorance of the proprietie of the Spanish tongue, told the Emperour among other words, that he was Hombre el mas ingrato enel mondo, the ingratest person in the world to vse his maister so. The Emperour tooke him suddainly with the word, and said: callest thou me ingrato? I tell thee learne better termes, or else I will teach them thee. Th'Embassacour excused it by his commission, and said: they were the king his maisters words, and not his owne. Nay quoth th'Emperour, thy maister, durst not haue sent me these words, were it not for that broad ditch betweene him & me, meaning the sea, which is hard to passe with an army of reuenge. The Embassadour was commanded away & no more hard by the Emperor, til by some other means afterward the grief was either pacified or forgotten & all this inconuenience grew by misuse of one word, which being otherwise spoken & in some sort qualified, had easily holpen all, & yet th'Embassadour might sufficiently haue satisfied his commission & much better aduanced his purpose, as to haue said for this word [ye are ingrate] ye haue not vsed such gratitude towards him as he hath deserued: so ye may see how a word spoken vndecently, not knowing the phrase or proprietie of a language, maketh a whole matter many times miscarrie. In which respect it is to be wished, that none Ambassadour speake his principall commandements but in his own language, or in another as naturall to him as his owne, and so it is vsed in all places of the world sauing in England. The Princes and their commissioners fearing least otherwise they might vtter any thing to their disaduantage, or els to their disgrace: and I my selfe hauing seene the Courts of Fraunce, Spaine, Italie, and that of the Empire, with many inferior Courts, could neuer perceiue that the most noble personages, though they knew very well how to speake many forraine languages, would at any times that they had bene spoken vnto, answere but in their owne, the Frenchman in French the Spaniard in Spanish, the Italian in Italian, and the very Dutch Prince in the Dutch language: whether it were more for pride, or for feare of any lapse, I cannot tell. And Henrie Earle of Arundel being an old Courtier and a very princely man in all his actions, kept that rule alwaies. For on a time passing from England towards Italie by her maiesties licence, he was very honorably enterteined at the Court of Brussels, by the Lady Duches of Parma, Regent there: and sitting at a banquet with her, where also was the Prince of Orange, with all the greatest Prince of the state, the Earle, though he could resonably well speake French, would not speake one French word, but all English, whether he asked any question, or answered it, but all was done by Truchemen. In so much as the Prince of Orange maruelling at it, looked a side on that part where I stoode a beholder of the feast, and sayd, I maruell your Noblemen of England doe not desire to be better languaged in the forraine languages. This word was by and by reported to the Earle. Quoth the Earle againe, tell my Lord the Prince, that I loue to speake in that language, in which I can best vtter my mind and not mistake.

Another Ambassadour vsed the like ouersight by ouerweening himselfe that he could naturally speake the French tongue, whereas in troth he was not skilfull in their termes. This Ambassadour being a Bohemian, sent from the Emperour to the French Court, where after his first audience, he was highly feasted and banquetted. On a time, among other, a great Princesse sitting at the table, by way of talke asked the Ambassador whether the Empresse his

mistresse when she went a hunting, or otherwise trauailed abroad for her solace, did ride a horsback or goe in her coach. To which the Ambassadour answered vnwares and not knowing the French terme, Par foy elle cheuauche fort bien, & si en prend grand plaisir. She rides (saith he) very well, and takes great pleasure in it. There was good smiling one vpon another of the Ladies and Lords, the Ambassador wist not whereat, but laughed himselfe for companie. This word Chauaucher in the French tongue hath a reprobate sence, specially being spoken of a womans riding.

And as rude and vnciuill speaches carry a marueilous great indecencie, so doe sometimes those that be ouermuch affected and nice: or that doe fauour of ignorance or adulation, and be in the eare of graue and wise persons no lesse offensiue than the other: as when a sutor in Rome came to Tiberius the emperor and said, I would open my case to your Maiestie, if it were not to trouble your sacred businesse, sacras vestras occupationes as the Historiographer reporteth. What meanest thou by that terme quoth the Emperor, say laboriosas I pray thee, & so thou maist truely say, and bid him leaue off such affected flattering termes.

The like vndecencie vsed a Herald at armes sent by Charles the fifth Emperor, to Fraunces the first French king, bringing him a message of defiance, and thinking to qualifie the bitternesse of his message with words pompous and magnificent for the kings honor, vsed much this terme (sacred Maiestie) which was not vsually geuen to the French king, but to say for the most part [Sire]. The French king neither liking of his errant, nor yet of his pompous speech, said somewhat sharply, I pray thee good fellow clawe me not where I itch not with thy sacred maiestie but goe to thy businesse, and tell thine errand in such termes as are decent betwixt enemies, for thy master is not my frend, and turned him to a Prince of the bloud who stoode by, saying, me thinks this fellow speakes like Bishop Nicholas, for on Saint Nicholas night commonly the Scholars of the Countrey make them a Bishop, who like a foolish boy, goeth about blessing and preaching with so childish termes, as maketh the people laugh at his foolish counterfaite speeches.

And yet in speaking or writing of a Princes affaires & fortunes there is a certaine Decorum, that we may not vse the same termes

in their busines, as we might very wel doe in a meaner persons, the case being all one, such reuerence is due to their estates. As for example, if an Historiographer shal write of an Emperor or King, how such a day hee ioyned battel with his enemie, and being ouer-laide ranne out of the fielde, and tooke his heeles, or put spurre to his horse and fled as fast as hee could : the termes be not decent, but of a meane souldier or captaine, it were not vndecently spoken. And as one, who translating certaine bookes of Virgils Aeneidos into English meetre, said that Aeneas was fayne to trudge out of Troy: which terme became better to be spoken of a beggar, or of a rogue, or a lackey: of so wee vse to say to such maner of people, be trudging hence.

Another Englishing this word of Virgill [fato profugus] called Aeneas [by fare a fugitiue] which was vndecently spoken, and not to the Authours intent in the same word: for whom he studied by all means to auaunce aboue all other men of the world for vertue and magnanimitie, he meant not to make him a fugitiue. But by occasion of his great distresses, and of the hardnesse of his destinies, he would haue it appeare that Aeneas was enforced to flie out of Troy, and for many yeeres to be a romer and a wandrer about the world both by land and sea [fato profugus] and neuer to find any resting place till he came into Italy, so as ye may euidently perceiue in this terme [fugitiue] a notable indignity offred to that princely person, and by th'other word (a wanderer) none indignitie at all, but rather a terme of much loue and commiseration. The same translatour when he came to these wordes: Insignem pietate virum, tot voluere casus tot adire labores compulit. Hee turned it thus, what moued Iuno to tugge so great a captaine as Aeneas, which word tugge spoken in this case is so vndecent as none other could haue bene deuised, and tooke his first originall from the cart, because it signifieth the pull or draught of the oxen or horses, and therefore the leathers that beare the chiefe stresse of the draught, the cartars call them tugges, and so wee vse to say that shrewd boyes tugge each other by the eares, for pull.

Another of our vulgar makers, spake as illfaringly in this verse written to the dispraise of a rich man and couetous. Thou hast a

misers minde (thou has a princes pelfe) a lewde terme to be spoken of a princes treasure, which in no respect nor for any cause is to be called pelfe, though it were neuer so meane for pelfe is properly the scrappes or shreds of taylors and of skinners, which are accompted of so vile price as they be commonly cast out of dores, or otherwise bestowed vpon base purposes: and carrieth not the like reason or decencie, as when we say in reproch of a niggard or vserer, or worldly couetous man, that he setteth more by a little pelfe of the world, than by his credit or health, or conscience. For in comparison of these treasours, all the gold or siluer in the world may by a skornefull terme be called pelfe, & so ye see that the reason of the decencie holdeth not alike in both cases. Now let vs passe from these examples, to treat of those that concerne the comelinesse and decencie of mans behauiour.

And some speech may be whan it is spoken very vndecent and yet the same hauing afterward somewhat added to it may become prety and decent, as was the stowte worde vsed by a captaine in Fraunce, who sitting at the lower end of the Duke of Guyses table among many, the day after there had bene a great battaile foughten, the Duke finding that this captaine was not seene that day to do any thing in the field, taxed him priuily thus in al the hearings. Where were you Sir the day of the battaile, for I saw ye not? the captaine answered promptly: where ye durst not haue bene: and the Duke began to kindle with the worde, which the Gentleman perceiuing, said spedily: I was that day among the carriages, where your excellencie would not for a thousand crownes haue bene seene. Thus from vndecent it came by a wittie reformation to be made decent againe.

The like hapned on a time at the Duke of Northumberlandes bourd, where merry ohn Heywood was allowed to sit at the tables end. The Duke had a very noble and honorable mynde alwayes to pay his debts well, and when he lacked money, would not stick to sell the greatest part of his plate: so had he done few dayes before. Heywood being loth to call for his drinke so oft as he was dry, turned his eye toward the cupbord and sayd I finde great misse of your graces standing cups: the Duke thinking he had spoken it of some knowledge that his plate was lately sold, said somewhat

sharpely, why Sir will not those cuppes serue as good a man as your selfe. Heywood readily replied. Yes if it please your grace, but I would haue one of them stand still at myne elbow full of drinke that I might not be driuen to trouble your men so often to call for it. This pleasant and speedy reuers of the former wordes holpe all the matter againe, whereupon the Duke became very pleasaunt and dranke a bolle of wine to Heywood, and bid a cup should alwayes be standing by him.

It were to busie a peece of worke for me to tell you of all the partes of decencie and indecency which haue bene obserued in the speaches of man & in his writings, and this that I tell you is rather to solace your eares with pretie conceits after a sort of long scholasticall preceptes which may happen haue doubled them, rather then for any other purpose of institution or doctrine, which to any Courtier of experience, is not necessarie in this behalfe. And as they appeare by the former examples to rest in our speach and writing: so do the same by like proportion consist in the whole behauiour of man, and that which he doth well and commendably is euer decent, and the contrary vndecent, not in euery mans iudgement alwayes one, but after their seuerall discretion and by circumstance diuersly, as by the next Chapter shalbe shewed.

3.24. Of decencie in behauiour which also belongs to the consideration of the Poet or maker.

And there is a decency to be obserued in euery mans action & behauiour aswell as in his speach & writing which some peraduenture would thinke impertinent to be treated of in this booke, where we do but informer the commendable fashions of language & stile: but that is otherwise, for the good maker or poet who is in decent speach & good termes to describe all things and with prayse or dispraise to report euery mans behauiour, ought to know the comelinesse of an action aswell as of a word & thereby to direct himselfe both in praise & perswasion or any other point that perteines to the Oratours arte. Wherefore some examples we will set downe of this maner of decency in behauiour leauing you for the rest to our booke which we haue written de Decoro, where ye shall see both partes

handled more exactly. And this decencie of mans behauiour aswell as of his speach must also be deemed by discretion, in which regard the thing that may well become one man to do may not become another, and that which is seemely to be done in this place is not so seemely in that, and at such a time decent, but at another time vndecent, and in such a case and for such a purpose, and to this and that end and by this and that euent, perusing all the circumstances with like consideration. Therefore we say that it might become king Alexander to giue a hundreth talentes to Anaxagoras the Philosopher, but not for a beggerly Philosopher to accept so great a gift, for such a Prince could not be so impouerished by that expence, but the Philosopher was by it excessiuely to be enriched, so was the kings action proportionable to his estate and therefore decent, the Philosophers, disproportionable both to his profession and calling and therefore indecent.

And yet if we shall examine the same point with a clearer discretion, it may be said that whatsoeuer it might become king Alexander of his regal largesse to bestow vpon a poore Philosopher vnasked, that might aswell become the Philosopher to receiue at his hands without refusal, and had otherwise bene some empeachement of the kings abilitie or wisedome, which had not bene decent in the Philosopher, nor the immoderatnesse of the kinges gift in respect of the Philosophers meane estate made his acceptance the lesse decent, since Princes liberalities are not measured by merite nor by other mens estimations, but by their owne appetits and according to their greatnesse. So said king Alexander very like himselfe to one Perillus to whom he had geuen a very great gift, which he made curtesy to accept, saying it was too much for such a mean person, what quoth the king if it be too much for thy selfe, hast thou neuer a friend or kinsman that may fare the better by it? But peraduenture if any such immoderat gift had bene craued by the Philosopher and not voluntarily offred by the king it had bene vndecent to haue taken it. Euen so if one that standeth vpon his merite, and spares to craue the Princes liberalitie in that which is moderate and fit for him, doth as vndecently. For men should not expect till the Prince remembred it of himselfe and began as it were the gratification, but ought to be

put in remembraunce by humble solicitations, and that is duetifull & decent, which made king Henry th'eight her Maiesties most noble father, and for liberality nothing inferiour to king Alexander the great, aunswere one of his priuie chamber, who prayd him to be good & gracious to a certaine old Knight being his seruant, for that he was but an ill begger, if he be ashamed to begge we wil thinke scorne to giue. And yet peraduenture in both these cases, the vndecencie for too much crauing or sparing to craue, might be easily holpen by a decent magnificence in the Prince, as Amazes king of Aegypt very honorably considered, who asking one day for one Diopithus a noble man of his Court, what was become of him for that he had not sene him wait of long time, one about the king told him that he heard say he was sicke and of some conceit he had taken that his Maiestie had but slenderly looked to him, vsing many others very bountifully. I beshrew his fooles head quoth the king, why had he not sued vnto vs and made vs priuie of his want, then added, but in truth we are most to blame our selues, who by a mindeful beneficence without sute should haue supplied his bashfulnesse, and forthwith commaunded a great reward in money & pension to be sent vnto him, but it hapned that when the kings messengers entred the chamber of Diopithus, eh had newly giuen vp the ghost: the messengers sorrowed the case, and Diopithus friends sate by and wept, not so much for Diopithus death, as for pitie that he ouerliued not the comming of the kings reward. Therupon it came euer after to be vsed for a prouerbe that when any good turne commeth too late to be vsed, to cal it Diopithus reward.

In Italy and Fraunce I haue knowen it vsed for common pollicie, the Princes to differre the bestowing of their great liberalities as Cardinalships and other high dignities & offices of gayne, till the parties whom they should seeme to gratifie be so old or so sicke as it is not likely they should long enioy them.

In the time of Charles the ninth French king, I being at the Spaw waters, there lay a Marshall of Fraunce called Monsieur de Sipier, to vse those waters for his health, but when the Phisitions had all giuen him vp, and that there was no hope of life in him, came from the king to him a letters patents of six thousand crownes

yearely pension during his life with many comfortable wordes: the man was not su much past remembraunce, but he could say to the messenger trop tard, trop tard, it should haue come before, for in deede it had bene promised long and came not till now that he could not fare the better by it.

And it became king Antiochus, better to bestow the faire Lady Stratonica his wife vpon his sonne Demetrius who lay sicke for her loue and would else haue perished, as the Physitions cunningly discouered by the beating of his pulse, then it could become Demetrius to be inamored with his fathers wife, or to enioy her of his guift, because the fathers act was led by discretion and of a fatherly compassion, not grutching to depart form his deerest possession to saue his childes life, where as the sonne in his appetite had no reason to lead him to loue vnlawfully, for whom it had rather bene decent to die then to haue violated his fathers bed with safetie of his life.

No more would it be seemely for an aged man to play the wanton like a child, for it stands not with the conueniency of nature, yet when king Agesilaus hauing a great sort of little children, was one day disposed to solace himself among them in a gallery where they plaied, and tooke a little hobby horse of wood and bestrid it to keepe them in play, one of his friends seemed to mislike his lightnes, ô good friend quoth Agesilaus, rebuke me not for this fault till thou haue children of thine owne, shewing in deede that it came not of vanitie but of a fatherly affection, ioying in the sport and company of his little children, in which respect and as that place and time serued, it was dispenceable in him & not indecent.

And in the choise of a mans delights & maner of his life, there is a decencie, and so we say th'old man generally is no fit companion for the young man, nor the rich for the poore, nor the wise for the foolish. Yet in some respects and by discretion it may be otherwise, as when the old man hath the gouernment of the young, the wise teaches the foolish, the rich is wayted on by the poore for their reliefe, in which regard the conuersation is not indecent.

And Proclus the Philosopher knowing how euery indecencie is vnpleasant to nature, and namely, how vncomely a thing it is for young men to doe as old men doe (at leastwise as young men

for the most part doe take it) applyed it very wittily to his purpose: for hauing his sonne and heire a notable vnthrift, & delighting in nothing but in haukes and hounds, and gay apparrell, and such like vanities, which neither by gentle nor sharpe admonitions of his father, could make him leaue. Proclus himselfe not onely bare with his sonne, but also vsed it himselfe for company, which some of his frends greatly rebuked him for, saying, ô Proclus, an olde man and a Philosopher to play the foole and lasciuious more than the sonne. Mary, quoth Proclus, & therefore I do it, for it is the next way to make my sonne change his life, when he shall see how vndecent it is in me to leade such a life, when he shall see how vndecent it is in me to leade such a life, and for him being a yong man, to keepe companie with me being an old man, and to doe that which I doe.

So is it not vnseemely for any ordinarie Captaine to winne the victory or any other auantage in warre by fraud & breach of faith: as Hanniball with the Romans, but it could not well become the Romaines managing so great an Empire, by examples of honour and iustice to doe as Hanniball did. And when Parmenio in a like case perswaded king Alexander to breake the day of his appointment, and to set vpon Darius at the sodaine, which Alexander refused to doe, Parmenio saying, I would doe it if I were Alexander, and I too quoth Alexander if I were Parmenio: but it behooueth me in honour to fight liberally with mine enemies, and iustly to ouercome. And thus ye see that was decent in Parmenios action, which was not in the king his masters.

A great nobleman and Counseller in this Realme was secretlie aduised by his friend, not to vse so much writing his letters in fauour of euery man that asked them, specially to the Iudges of the Realme in cases of iustice. To whom the noble man answered, it becomes vs Councellors better to vse instance for our friend, then for the Iudges to sentence at instance: for whatsoeuer we doe require them, it is in their choise to refuse to doe, but for all that the example was ill and dangerous.

And there is a decencie in chusing the times of a mans busines, and as the Spaniard sayes, es tiempo de negotiar, there is a fitte time for euery man to performe his businesse in, & to attend his affaires, which out of that time would be vndecent: as to sleepe al day and

wake al night, and to goe a hunting by torch-light as an old Earle of Arundel vsed to doe, or for any occasion of little importance, to wake a man out of his sleepe, or to make him rise from his dinner to talke with him, or such like importunities, for so we call euery vnseasonable action, and the vndecencie of the time.

Callicratides being sent Ambassador by the Lacedemonians, to Cirus the young king of Persia to contract with him for money and men toward their warres against the Athenians, came to the Court at such vnseasonable time as the king was yet in the midst of his dinner, and went away againe saying, it is now no time to interrupt the kings mirth. he came againe another day in the after noone, and finding the king at a rere-banquet, and to haue taken the wine somewhat plentifully, turned back againe, saying, I thinke there is no houre fitte to deal with Cirus, for he is euer in his banquets: I will rather leaue all the busines vndone, then doe any thing that shall not become the Lacedemonians: meaning to offer conference of so great importaunce to his Countrey, with a man so distempered by surfet, as hee was not likely to geue him any reasonable resolution in the cause.

One Eudamidas brother to king Agis of Lacedemonia, comming by Zenocrates schoole and looking it, saw him sit in his chaire, disputing with a long hoare beard, asked who it was, one answered, Sir it is a wise man and one of them that searches after vertue, and if he haue not yet found it quoth Eudamidas when will he vse it, that now at this yeares is seeking after it, as who would way it is not time to talke of matter when they should be put in execution, nor for an old man to be to seeke what vertue is, which all his youth he should haue had in exercise.

Another time comming to heare a notable Philosopher dispute, it happened, that all was ended euen as he came, and one of his familiers would haue had him requested the Philosopher to beginne againe, that were indecent and nothing ciuill quoth Eudamidas, for if he should come to me supperlesse when I had supped before, were it seemely for him to pray me to suppe againe for his companie?

And the place makes a thing decent or indecent, in which consideration one Euboidas being sent Embassadour into a forraine

realme, some of his familiars tooke occasion at the table to praise the wiues and women of that country in presence of their owne husbands, which th'embassadour misliked, and when supper was ended and the guestes departed, tooke his familiars aside, and told them that it was nothing decent in a strange country to praise the women, nor specially a wife before her husbands face, for inconueniencie that might rise thereby, aswell to the prayser as to the woman, and that the chiefe commendation of a chast matrone, was to be knowen onely to her husband, and not to be obserued by straungers and guestes.

And in the vse of apparell there is no litle decency and vndecencie to be perceiued, as well for the fashion as the stuffe, for it is comely that euer estate and vocation should be knowen by the differences of their habit: a clarke from a lay man: a gentleman from a yeoman: a souldier from a citizen, and the chiefe of euery degree from their inferiours, because in confusion and disorder there is no manner of decencie.

The Romaines of any other people most seuere censurers of decencie, though no vpper garment so comely for a ciuill man as a long playted gowne, because it sheweth much grauitie & also pudicitie, hiding euery member of the body which had not bin pleasant to behold. In somuch as a certain Proconsull or Legat of theirs dealing one day with Ptolome king of Egipt, seeing him clad in a straite narrow garment very lasciuiously, discouering euery part of his body, gaue him a great checke for it: and said, that vnlesse he vsed more sad and comely garments, the Romaines would take no pleasure to hold amitie with him, for by the wantonnes of his garment they would iudge the vanitie of his mind, not to be worthy of their constant friendship. A pleasant old courtier wearing one day in the sight of a great councellour, after the new guise, a french cloake skarce reaching to the wast, a long beaked doublet hanging downe to his thies, & an high paire of silke netherstocks that couered all his buttockes and loignes the Councellor marueled to see him in that sort disguised, and otherwise than he had bien woont to be. Sir quoth the Gentleman to excuse it: if I should not be able whan I had need to pisse out of my doublet, and to do the rest in my netherstocks (vsing the plaine terme) all men would

say I were but a lowte, the Councellor laughed hartily at the absurditie of the speech, but what would those fower fellowes of Rome haue said trowe ye? truely in mine opinion, that all such persons as take pleasure to shew their limbes, specially those that nature hath commanded out of sight, should be inioyned either to go starke naked, or else to resort back to the comely and modest fashion of their owne countrie apparell vsed by their old honorable auncestors.

And there is a decency of apparrel in respect of the place where it is to be vsed: as, in the Court to be richely apparrelled: in the countrey to weare more plain & homely garments. For who would not thinke it a ridiculous thing to see a Lady in her milke-house with a veluet gowne, and at a bridall in her cassock of mockado: a Gentleman of the Countrey among the bushes and briers, goe in a pounced dublet and a paire of embrodered hosen, in the Citie to weare a frise Ierkin and a paire of leather breeches? yet some such phantasticals haue I knowen, and one a certaine knight, of all other the most vaine, who commonly would come to the Sessions, and other ordinarie meetings and Commissions in the Countrey, so bedect with buttons and aglets of gold and such costly embroderies, as the poore plaine men of the Countrey called him (for his gaynesse) the golden knight. Another for the like cause was called Saint Sunday: I thinke at this day they be so farre spent, as either of them would be content with a good cloath cloake: and this came by want of discretion, to discerne and deeme right of decencie, which many Gentlemen doe wholly limite by the person or degree, where reason doeth it by the place and presence: which may be such as it might very well become a great Prince to weare courser apparrell than in another place or presence a meaner person.

Neuerthelesse in the vse of a garment many occasions alter the decencie, sometimes the qualitie of the person, sometimes of the case, otherwhiles the countrie custome, and often the constitution of lawes, and the very nature of vse it selfe. As for example a king and prince may vse rich and gorgious apparell decently, so cannot a meane person doo, yet if an herald of armes to whom a king giueth his gowne of cloth of gold, or to whom it was incident as a fee of his office, do were the same, he doth it decently, because such

hath alwaies bene th'allowances of heraldes: but if such herald haue worne out, or sold, or lost that gowne, to buy him a new of the like stuffe with his owne mony and to weare it, is not decent in the eye and iudgement of them that know it.

And the country custome maketh things decent in vse, as in Asia for all ment to weare long gownes both a foot and horsebacke: in Europa short gaberdins, or clokes, or iackets, euen for their vpper garments. The Turke and Persian to wear great tolibants of ten, fifteene, and twentie elles of linnen a peece vpon their heads, which can not be remooued: in Europe to were caps or hats, which vpon euery occasion of saluation we vse to put of, as a signe of reuerence. In th'East partes the men to make water couring like women, with vs standing at a wall. With them to congratulat and salute by giuing a becke with the head, or a bende of the bodie, with vs here in England, and in Germany, and all other Northerne parts of the world to shake handes. In France, Italie, and Spaine to embrace ouer the shoulder, vnder the armes, at the very knees, according the superiors degree. With vs the wemen giue their mouth to be kissed, in other places their cheek, in many places their hand, or in steed of an offer to the hand, to say these words Bezo los manos. And yet some others surmounting in all courtly ciuilitie will say, Los manos & los piedes. And aboue that reach too, there be that will say to the Ladies, Lombra de sus pisadas, the shadow of your steps. Which I recite vnto you to shew the phrase of those courtly seruitours in yeelding the mistresses honour and reuerence.

And it is seen that very particular vse of it selfe makes a matter of much decencie and vndecencie, without any countrey custome or allowance, as if one that hath many yeares worne a gowne shall come to be seen weare a iakquet or ierkin, or he that hath many yeares worne a beard or long haire among those that had done the contrary, and come sodainly to be pold or shauen, it will seeme onely to himselfe, a deshight and very vndecent, but also to all others that neuer vsed to go so, vntill the time and custome haue abrogated that mislike.

So was it here in England till her Maiesties most noble father for diuers good respects, caused his owne head and all his Courtiers to be polled and his beard to be cut short. Before that time it

was thought more decent both for old men and young to be all shauen and to weare long haire either rounded or square. Now againe at this time, the young Gentlemen of the Court haue taken vp the long haire trayling on their shoulders, and thinke it more decent: for what respect I would be glad to know.

The Lacedemonians bearing long bushes of haire, finely kept & curled vp, vsed this ciuill argument to maintaine that custome. Haire (say they) is the very ornament of nature appointed for the head, which therefore to vse in his most sumptuous degree is comely, specially for them that be Lordes, Maisters of men, and of a free life, hauing abilitie & leasure inough to keepe it cleane, and so for a signe of seignorie, riches and libertie, the masters of the Lacedemonians vsed long haire. But their vassals, seruaunts and slaues vsed it short or shauen in signe of seruitude and because they had no meane nor leasure to kembe and keepe it cleanely. It was besides combersome to them hauing many businesse to attende, in some seruices there might no maner of filth be falling from their heads. And to all souldiers it is very noysome and a daungerous disauantage in the warres or in any particular combat, which being the most comely profession of euery noble young Gentleman, it ought to perswade them greatly from wearing long haire. If there be any that seeke by long haire to helpe or to hide an ill featured face, it is in them allowable so to do, because euery man may decently reforme by art, the faultes and imperfections that nature hath wrought in them.

And all singularities or affected parts of a mans behauiour seeme vndecent, as for one man to march or iet in the street more stately, or to looke more solempnely, or to go more gayly & in other coulours or fashioned garments then another of the same degree and estate.

Yet such singularities haue had many times both good liking and good successe, otherwise then many would haue looked for. As when Dinocrates the famous architect, desirous to be knowen to king Alexander the great, and hauing none acquaintance to bring him to the kings speech, he came one day to the Court very strangely apparelled in long skarlet robes, his head compast with a garland of Laurell, and his face all to be slicked with sweet oyle, and stoode in the kings chamber, motioning nothing to any man:

newes of this stranger came to the king, who cause him to be brought to his presence, and asked his name, and the cause of his repaire to the Court. He aunswered, his name was Dinocrates the Architect, who came to present his Maiestie with a platforme of his owne deuising, how his Maiestie might buylde a Citie vpon the mountaine Athos in Macedonia, which should beare the figure of a mans body, and tolde him all how. Forsooth the breast and bulke of his body should rest vpon such a flat: that hil should be his head, all set with foregrowen woods like haire: his right arme should stretch out to such a hollow bottome as might be like his hand: holding a dish conteyning al the waters that should serue that Citie: the left arme with his hand should hold a valley of all the orchards and gardens of pleasure pertaining thereunto: and either legge should lie vpon a ridge of rocke, very gallantly to behold, and so should accomplish the full figure of a man. The king asked him what commoditie of soyle, or sea, or nauigable riuer lay neere vnto it, to be able to sustaine so great a number of inhabitants. Truely Sir (quoth Dinocrates) I haue not yet considered thereof: for in trueth it is the barest part of all the Countrey of Macedonia. The king smiled at it, and said very honourably, we like your deuice well, and meane to vse your seruice in the building of a Citie, but we wil chuse out a more commodious scituation: and made him attend in that voyage in which he conquered Asia and Egypt, and there made him chiefe Surueyour of his new Citie of Alexandria. Thus did Dinocrates singularitie in attire greatly further him to his aduancement.

Yet are generally all rare things and such as breede maruell & admiration somewhat holding of the vndecent, as when a man is bigger & exceeding the ordinary stature of a man like a Giaunt, or farre vnder the reasonable and common size of men, as a dwarfe, and such vndecencies do not angre vs, but either we pittie them or scorne at them.

But at all insolent and vnwoonted partes of a mans behauiour, we find many times cause to mislike or to be mistrustfull, which proceedeth of some vndecency that is in it, as when a man that hath alwaies bene strange & vnacquainted with vs, will suddenly become our familiar and domestick: and another that hath bene

alwaies sterne and churlish, wilbe vpon suddaine affable and curteous, it is neyther a comely sight, nor a signe of any good towardes vs. Which the subtill Italian well obserued by the successes thereof, saying in Prouerbe.

Now againe all maner of conceites that stirre vp any vehement passion in a man, doo it by some turpitude or euill and vndecency that is in them, as to make a man angry there must be some iniury or contempt offered, to make him enuy there must proceede some vndeserued prosperitie of his egall or inferiour, to make him pitie some miserable fortune or spectakle to behold.

And yet in euery of these passions being as it were vndecencies, there is a comelinesse to be discerned, which some men can keepe and some men can not, as to be angry, or to enuy, or to hate, or to pitie, or to be ashamed decently, that is none otherwise then reason requireth. This surmise appeareth to be true, for Homer the father of Poets writing that famous and most honourable poeme called the Illiades or warres of Troy: made his commencement the magnanimous wrath and anger of Achilles in his first verse thus: menyn hia piladeou axilleious Sing foorth my muse the wrath of Achilles Peleus sonne: which the Poet would neuer haue done if the wrath of a prince had not beene in some sort comely & allowable. but when Arrianus and Curtius historiographers that wrote the noble gestes of king Alexander the great, came to prayse him for many things, yet for his wrath and anger they reproched him, because it proceeded not of any magnanimitie, but vpon surfet & distemper in his diet, nor growing of any iust causes, was exercised to the destruction of his dearest friends and familiers, and not of his enemies, nor any other waies so honorably as th'others was, and so could not be reputed a decent and comely anger.

So may al your other passions be vsed decently though the very matter of their originall be grounded vpon some vndecencie, as it is written by a certaine king of Egypt, who looking out of his

window, and seing his owne sonne for some grieuous offence, carried by the officers of his iustice to the place of execution: he neuer once changed his countenance at the matter, though the sight were neuer so full of ruth and atrocitie. And it was thought a decent countenance and constant animositie in the king to be so affected, the case concerning so high and rare a peece of his owne iustice. But within few daies after when he beheld out of the same window an old friend and familiar of his, stand begging an almes in the streete, he wept tenderly, remembring their old familiarity and considering how by the mutabilitie of fortune and frailtie of mans estate, it might one day come to passe that he himselfe should fall into the like miserable estate. He therfore had a remorse very comely for a king in that behalfe, which also caused him to giue order for his poore friends plentiful reliefe.

But generally to weepe for any sorrow (as one may doe for pitie) is not so decent in a man: and therefore all high minded persons, when they cannot chuse but shed teares, wil turne away their face as a countenance vndecent for a man to shew, and so will the standers by till they haue supprest such passion, thinking it nothing decent to behold such an vncomely countenance. But for Ladies and women to weepe and shed teares at euery little greefe, it is nothing vncomely, but rather a signe of much good nature & meeknes of minde, a most decent propertie for that sexe; and therefore they be for the more part more deuout and charitable, and greater geuers of almes than men, and zealous relieuers of prisoners, and beseechers of pardons, and such like parts of commiseration. Yea they be more than so too: for by the common prouerbe, a woman will weepe for pitie to see a gosling goe barefoote.

But most certainly all things that moue a man to laughter, as doe these scurrilities & other ridiculous behauiours, it is for some vndecencie that is found in them: which maketh it decent for euery man to laugh at them. And therefore when we see or heare a natural foole and idiot doe or say any thing foolishly, we laugh not at him: but when he doeth or speaketh wisely, because that is vnlike him selfe: and a buffonne or counterfet foole, to heare him speake wisely which is like himselfe, it is no sport at all, but for such a counterfait to talke and looke foolishly it maketh vs laugh,

because it is no part of his naturall, for in euery vncomlinesse there must be a certaine absurditie and disproportion to nature, and the opinion of the hearer or beholder to make the thing ridiculous. But for a foole to talke foolishly or a wiseman wisely, there is no such absurditie or disproportion.

And though at all absurdities we may decently laugh, & when they be no absurdities not decently, yet in laughing is there an vndecencie for other respectes sometime, than of the matter it selfe, Which made Philippus sonne to the first Christen Emperour, Philippus Arabicus fitting with his father one day in the theatre to behold the sports, giue his father a great rebuke because he laughed, saying that it was no comely countenance for an Emperour to bewray in such a publicke place, nor specially to laugh at euery foolish toy: the posteritie gaue the sonne for that cause the name of Philippus Agelastos or without laughter.

I haue seene forraine Embassadours in the Queenes presence laugh so dissolutely at some rare pastime or sport that hath beene made there, that nothing in the world could worse haue becomen them, and others very wise men, whether it haue ben of some pleasant humour and complexion, or for other default in the spleene, or for ill education or custome, that could not vtter any graue and earnest speech without laughter, which part was greatly discommended in them.

And Cicero the wisest of any Romane writers, thought it vncomely for a man to daunce: saying, Saltantem sobrium vidi neminem. I neuer saw any man daunce that was sober and in his right wits, but there by your leaue he failed, nor our young Courtiers will allow it, besides that it is the most decent and comely demeanour of all exulatations and reioycements of the hart, which is no lesse naturall to man then to be wise or well learned, or sober.

To tell you the decencies of a number of other behauiours, one might do it to please you with pretie reportes, but to the skilfull Courtiers it shalbe nothing necessary, for they know all by experience without learning. Yet some few remembraunces wee will make you of the most materiall, which our selues haue obserued, and so make an end.

It is decent to be affable and curteous at meales & meeting, in

open assemblies more solemne and straunge, in place of authoritie and iudgement not familiar nor pleasant, in counsell secret and sad, in ordinary conferences easie and apert, in conuersation simple, in capitulation subtill and mistrustfull, at mournings and burials sad and sorrowfull, in feasts and bankets merry & ioyfull, in houshold expence pinching and sparing, in publicke entertainement spending and pompous. The Prince to be sumptuous and magnificent, the priuate man liberall with moderation, a man to be in giuing free, in asking spare, in promise slow, in performance speedy, in contract circumspect but iust, in amitie sincere, in ennimitie wily and cautelous [dolus an virtus quis in hoste requirit, saith the Poet] and after the same rate euery sort and maner of businesse or affaire or action hath his decencie and vndecencie, either for the time or place or person or some other circumstaunce, as Priests to be sober and sad, a Preacher by his life to giue good example, a Iudge to be incorrupted, solitarie and vnacquainted with Courtiers or Courtly entertainements, & as the Philosopher saith Oportet iudice esse rudem & simplicem, without plaite or wrinkle, sower in looke and churlish in speach, contrariwise a Courtly Gentleman to be loftie and curious in countenaunce, yet sometimes a creeper and a curry fauell with his superiours.

And touching the person, we say it is comely for a man to be a lambe in the house, and a Lyon in the field, appointing the decencie of his qualitie by the place, by which reason also we limit the comely parts of a woman to consist in foure points, that is to be a shrewe in the kitchin, a saint in the Church, an Angell at the bourd, and an Ape in the bed, as the Chronicle reportes by Mistresse Shore paramour to king Edward the fourth.

Then also there is a decency in respect of the persons with whom we do negotiate, as with the great personages his egals to be solemne and surly, with meaner men pleasant and popular, stoute with the sturdie and milde with the meek, which is a most decent conuersation and not reprochfull or vnseemely, as the prouerbe goeth, by those that vse the contrary, a Lyon among sheepe and a sheepe among Lyons.

Right so in negotiating with Princes we ought to seeke their fauour by humilitie & not by sternnesse, nor to trafficke with them

by way of indecent or condition, but frankly and by manner of submission to their wils, for Princes may be lead but not driuen, nor they are to be vanquisht by allegation, but must be suffred to haue the victorie and be relented vnto: nor they are not to be chalenged for right or iustice, for that is a maner of accusation: nor to be charged with their promises, for that is a kinde of condemnation: and at their request we ought not to be hardly entreated but easily, for that is a signe of deffidence and mistrust in their bountie and gratitude: nor to recite the good seruices which they haue receiued at our hands, for that is but a kind of exprobation, but in crauing their bountie or largesse to remember vnto them all their former beneficences, making no mention of our owne merites, & so it is thankfull, and in praysing them to their faces to do it very modestly: and in their commendations not to be excessiue for that is tedious, and alwayes fauours of suttelty more then of sincere loue.

And in speaking to a Prince the voyce ought to be lowe and not lowde nor shrill, for th'one is a signe of humilitie th'other of too much audacitie and presumption. Nor in looking on them seeme to ouerlooke them, nor yet behold them too stedfastly, for that is a signe of impudence or litel reuerence, and therefore to the great Princes Orientall their seruitours speaking or being spoken vnto abbase their eyes in token of lowlines, which behauiour we do not obserue to our Princes with so good a discretion as they do: & such as retire from the Princes presence, do not by & by turne tayle to them as we do, but go backward or sideling for a reasonable space, til they be at the wal or chamber doore passing out of sight, and is thought a most decent behauiour to their soueraignes. I haue heard that king Henry th'eight her Maiesties father, though otherwise the most gentle and affable Prince of the world, could not abide to haue any man stare in his face or to fix his eye too steedily vpon him when he talked with them: nor for a common suter to exclame or cry out for iustice, for that is offensiue and as it were a secret impeachement of his wrong doing, as happened once to a Knight in this Realme of great worship speaking to the king. Nor in speaches with them to be too long, or too much affected, for th'one is tedious th'other is irksome, nor with lowd acclamations to applaude them, for that is too popular & rude and

betokens either ignoraunce, or seldome accesse to their presence, or little frequenting their Courts: nor to shew too mery or light a countenance, for that is a signe of little reuerence and is a peece of a contempt.

And in gaming with a Prince it is decent to let him sometimes win of purpose, to keepe him pleasant, & neuer to refuse his gift, for that is vndutifull: nor to forgiue him his losses, for that is arrogant: nor to giue him great gifts, for that is either insolence or follie: nor to feast him with excessiue charge for that is both vaine and enuious, & therefore the wise Prince king Henry the seuenth her Maiesties grandfather, if his chaunce had bene to lye at any of his subiects houses, or to passe moe meales then one, he that would take vpon him to defray the charge of his dyet, or of his officers and houshold, he would be maruelously offended with it, saying what priuate subiect dare vndertake a Princes charge, or looke into the secret of his expence? Her Maiestie hath bene knowne oftentimes to mislike the superfluous expence of her subiects bestowed vpon her in times of her progresses.

Likewise in matter of aduise it is neither decent to flatter him for that is seruile, neither to be to rough or plaine with him, for it is daungerous, but truly to Counsell & to admonish, grauely not greuously, sincerely not sourely: which was the part that so greatly commended Cineus Counsellour to king Pirrhus, who kept that decencie in all his perswasions, that he euer preuailed in aduice, and carried the king which way he would.

And in a Prince it is comely to giue vnasked, but in a subiect to aske vnbidden: for that first is signe of a bountifull mynde, this of a loyall & confident. But the subiect that craues not at his Princes hand, either he is of no desert, or proud, or mistrustfull of his Princes goodnesse: therefore king Henry th'eight to one that entreated him to remember one Sir Anthony Rouse with some reward for that he had spent much and was an ill beggar: the king aunswered (noting his insolencie.) If he be ashamed to begge, we are ashamed to giue, and was neuerthelesse one of the most liberall Princes of the world.

And yet in some Courts it is otherwise vsed, for in Spaine it is thought very vndecent for a Courtier to craue, supposing that it is

the part of an importune: therefore the king of ordinarie calleth euery second, third or fourth yere for his Checker roll, and bestoweth his mercedes of his owne meere motion, and by discretion, according to euery mans merite and condition.

And in their commendable delights to be apt and accommodate, as if the Prince be geuen to hauking, hunting, riding or horses, or playing vpon instruments, or any like exercise, the seruitour to be the same: and in their other appetites wherein the Prince would seeme and example of vertue, and would not mislike to be egalled by others: in such cases it is decent their seruitours & subiects studie to be like to them by imitation, sa in wearing their haire long or short, or in this or that sort of apparrell, such excepted as be only fitte for Princes and none els, which were vndecent for a meaner person to imitate or counterfet: so is it not comely to counterfet their voice, or looke, or any other gestures that be not ordinary and naturall in euery common person: and therefore to go vpright or speake or looke assuredly, it is decent in euery man. But if the Prince haue an extraordinarie countenance or manner of speech, or bearing of his body, that for a common seruitour to counterfet is not decent, and therefore it was misliked in the Emperor Nero, and thought vncomely for him to counterfete Alexander the great, by holding his head a little awrie, & neerer toward the tone shoulder, because it was not his owne naturall.

And in a Prince it is decent to goe slowly, and to march with leysure, and with a certaine granditie rather than grauitie: as our soueraine Lady and mistresse, the very image of maiestie and magnificence, is accustomed to doe generally, vnlesse it be when she walketh apace for her pleasure, or to catch her a heate in the colde mornings.

Neuerthelesse, it is not so decent in a meaner person, as I haue obserued in some counterfet Ladies of the Countrey, which vse it much to their owne derision. This comelines was wanting in Queene Marie, otherwise a very good and honourable Princesse. And was some blemish to the Emperor Ferdinando, a most noble minded man, yet so carelesse and forgetfull of himselfe in that behalfe, as I haue seene him runne vp a paire of staires so swift and nimble a pace, as almost had not become a very meane man, who

had not gone in some hastie businesse.

And in a noble Prince nothing is more decent and welbeseeming his greatnesse than to spare foule speeches, for that breedes hatred, and to let none humble suiters depart out of their presence (as neere as may be) miscontented. Wherein her Maiestie hath of all others a most Regall gift, and nothing inferior to the good Prince Titus Vespasianus in that point.

Also, not to be passionate for small detriments or offences, nor to be a reuenger of them but in cases of great iniurie, and specially of dishonors: and therein to be very sterne and vindicatiue, for that fauours of Princely magnanimitie: nor to seeke reuenge vpon base and obscure persons, ouer whom the conquest is not glorious, nor the victorie honourable, which respect moued our soueraign Lady (keeping alwaies the decorum) of a Princely person) at her first comming to the crowne, when a knight of this Realme, who had very insolently behaued himselfe toward her when she was Lady Elizabeth, fell vpon his knee to her, and besought her pardon: suspecting (as there was good cause) that he should haue bene sent to the Tower, she said vnto him most mildly: do you not know that we are descended of the Lion, whose nature is not to harme or pray vpon the mouse, or any other such small vermin?

And with these examples I thinke sufficient to leaue, geuing you information fo this one point, that all your figures Poeticall or Rhetoricall, are but obseruations of strange speeches and such as without any arte at al we should vse, & commonly do, euen by very nature without discipline. But more or lesse aptly and decently, or scarcely, or aboundantly, or of this or that kind of figure, & one of vs more then another, according to the disposition of our nature constitution of the heart, & facilitie of each mans vtterance: so as we may forme: but arte aydeth the iudgement of his vse and application, which geues me occasion finally and for a full conclusion to this whole treatise, to enforme you in the next chapter how art should be vsed in all respects, and specially in this behalfe of language, and when the naturall is more commendable then the artificiall, and contrariwise.

3.25. That the good Poet or maker ought to dissemble his arte, and in what cases the artificiall is more commended then the naturall, and contrariwise.

And now (most excellent Queene) hauing largely said of Poets & Poesie, and about what matters they be employed: then of all the commended fourmes of Poemes, thirdly of metricall proportions, such as do appertaine to our vulgar arte: and last of all set forth the poeticall ornament consisting chiefly in the beautie and gallantnesse of his language and stile, and so haue apparelled him to our seeming, in all his gorgious habilliments, and pulling him first from the carte to the schoole, and from thence to the Court, and preferred him to your Maiesties seruice, in that place of great honour and magnificence to geue enterteinment to Princes, ladies of honour, Gentlewomen and Gentlemen, and by his many moodes of skill, to serue the many humors of men thither haunting and resorting, some by way of solace, some of serious aduise, and in matters aswell profitable as pleasant and honest. Wee haue in our humble conceit sufficiently perfourmed our promise or rather dutie to your Maiestie in the description of this arte, so alwaies as we leaue him not vnfurnisht of one peece that best beseemes that place of any other, and may serue as a principall good lesson for al good makers to beare continually in mind in the vsage of this science: which is, that being now lately become a Courtier he shew not himself a craftsman, & merit to be disgraded, & with scorne sent back againe to the shop, or other place of his first facultie and calling, but that so wisely and discreetly he behaue himselfe as he may worthily retaine the credit of his place, and profession of a very Courtier, which is in plaine termes, cunningly to be able to dissemble. But (if it please your Maiestie) may it not seeme inough for a Courtier to know how to weare a fether, and set his cappe a flaunt, his chaine enecharpe, a straight buskin al inglesse, a loose alo Turquesque, the cape alla Spaniola, the breech la Françoise, and by twentie maner of new fashioned garments to disguise his body, and his face with as many countenances, whereof it seemes there be many that make a very arte, and studie who can shew himselfe most fine, I will not say most foolish and ridiculous? or perhaps

rather that he could dissemble his conceits as well as his countenances, so as he neuer speake as he thinkes, or thinke as he speaks, and that in any matter of importance his words and his meaning very seldome meete: for so as I remember it was concluded by vs setting foorth the figure Allegoria, which therefore not impertinently we call the Courtier or figure of faire semblant, or is ti not perchance more requisite our courtly Poet do dissemble not onely his countenances & conceits, but also all his ordinary actions of behauiour, or the most part of them, whereby the better to winne his purposes & good aduantages, as now & then to haue a iourney or sicknesse in his sleeue, thereby to shake of other importunities of greater consequence, as they vse their pilgrimages in Fraunce, the Diet in Spaine, the baines in Italy? and when a man is whole to faine himselfe sicke to shunne the businesse in Court, to entertaine time and ease at home, to salue offences without discredite, to win purposes by mediation in absence, which their presence would eyther impeach or not greatly preferre, to harken after the popular opinions and speech, to entend to their more priuate solaces, to practize more deepely both at leasure & libertie, & when any publique affaire or other attempt & counsaile of theirs hath not receaued good successe, to auoid therby the Princes present reproofe, to coole their chollers by absence, to winne remorse by lamentable reports, and reconciliation by friends intreatie. Finally by sequestring themselues for a time from the Court, to be able the freelier & cleerer to discerne the factions and state of the Court and of al the world besides, no lesse then doth the looker on or beholder of a game better see into all points of auauntage, then the player himselfe? and in dissembling of diseases which I pray you? for I haue obserued it in the Court of Fraunce, not a burning feuer or a plurisie, or a palsie or the hydropick and swelling gowte, or any other like disease, for if they may be such as may be either easily discerned or quickly cured, they be ill to dissemble and doo halfe handsomly or serue the turne.

But it must be either a dry dropsie, or a megrim or letarge, or a fistule in ano, or some such other secret disease, as the common conuersant can hardly discouer, and the Phisition either not speedily heale, or not honestly bewray? of which infirmities the scoffing

Pasquil wrote, Vleus vesicae renum dolor in pene scirrus. Or as I haue seene in diuers places where many make themselues hart whole, when in deede they are full sicke, bearing it stoutly out to the hazard of their health, rather then they would be suspected of any lothsome infirmity, which might inhibit them from the Princes presence, or enterteinment of the ladies. Or as some other do to beare a port of state & plentie when they haue neither penny nor possession, that they may not seeme to droope, and be reiected as vnworthy or insufficient for the greater seruices, or be pitied for their pouertie, which they hold for a marueilous disgrace as did the poore Squire of Castile, who had rather dine with a sheepes head at home & drinke a cruse of water to it, then to haue a good dinner giuen him by his friend who was nothing ignorant of his pouertie. Or as others do to make wise they be poore when they riche, to shunne thereby the publicke charges and vocations, for men are not now a dayes (specially in states of Oligarchie as the most in our age) called so much for their wisedome as for their wealth, also to auoyde enuie of neighbours or bountie in conuersation, for whosoeuer is reputed rich cannot without reproch, but be either a lender or a spender. Or as others do to seeme very busie when they haue nothing to doo, and yet will make themselues so occupied and ouerladen in the Princes affaires, as it is a great matter to haue a couple of wordes with them, when notwithstanding they lye sleeping on their beds all an after noone, or sit solemnly at cardes in their chambers, or enterteyning of the Dames, or laughing and gibing with their familiars foure houres by the clocke, whiles the poore suter desirous of his dispatch is aunswered by some Secretarie or page il fault attendre, Monsieur is dispatching the kings businesse into Languedock, Prouence, Piemont, a common phrase with the Secretaries of France. Or as I haue obserued in many of the Princes Courts of Italie, to seeme idle when they be earnestly occupied & entend to noting but mischieuous practizes, and do busily negotiat by coulor of otiation. Or as others of them that go ordinarily to Church and neuer pray to winne an opinion of holinesse: or pray still apace, but neuer do good deede, and geue a begger a penny and spend a pound on a harlot, to speake faire to a mans face, and foule behinde his backe, to set him at his trencher and yet sit on his skirts for sowe vse to say by a fayned friend, then also to be rough and churlish in speach and apparance, but inwardly affectionate and fauouring, as I haue sene of the greatest podestates and grauest iudges and Presidentes of Parliament in Fraunce.

These & many such like disguisings do we find in mans behauiour, & specially in the Courtiers of forraine Countreyes, where in my youth I was brought vp, and very well obserued their maner of life and conuersation, for of mine owne Countrey I haue not made so great experience. Which parts, neuerthelesse, we allow not now in our English maker, because we haue geuen him the name of an honest man, and not of an hypocrite: and therefore leauing these manner of dissimulations to all base-minded men & of vile nature or misterie, we doe allow our Courtly Poet to be a dissembler only in the subtilties of his arte: that is, when he is most artificiall, so to disguise and cloake it as it may not appeare, nor seeme to proceede from him by any studie or trade of rules, but to be his naturall: nor so euidently to be descried, as euery ladde that reades him shall say he is a good scholler, but will rather haue him to know his arte well, and little to vse it.

And yet peraduenture in all points it may not be so taken, but in such onely as may discouer his grossenes or his ignorance by some schollerly affectation: which thing is very irkesome to all men of good trayning, and specially to Courtiers. And yet for all that our maker may not be in all cases restrayned, but that he may both vse, and also manifest his arte to his great praies, and need not shoe, or a Carpenter to haue buylt a faire house. Therefore to discusse and make this point somewhat cleerer, to weete, where arte ought to appeare, and where not, and when the naturall is more commendable than the artificiall in any humane action or workmanship, we wil examine it further by this distinction.

In some cases we say arte is an ayde and coadiutor to nature, and a furtherer of her actions to a good effect, or peraduenture a meane to supply her wants, by renforcing the causes wherein shee is impotent and defectiue, as doth the arte of phisicke, by helping the naturall and concoction, retention, distribution, expulsion, and other vertues, in a weake and vnhealthie bodie. Or as the good gardiner

seasons his soyle by sundrie sorts of compost: as mucke or marle, clay or sande, and many times by bloud, or lesse of oyle or wine, or stale, or perchaunce with more costly drugs: and waters his plants, and weedes his herbes and floures, and prunes his branches, and vnleaues his boughes to let in the sunne: and twentie other waies cherisheth them, and cureth their infirmities, and so makes that neuer, or very seldome any of them miscarry, but bring foorth their flours and fruites in season. And in both these cases it is no final praise for the Phisition & Gardiner to be called good and cunning artificers.

In another respect arte is not only an aide and coadiutor to nature in all her actions, but an alterer of them, and in some sort a surmounter of her skill, so as by meanes of it her owne effects shall appeare more beautifull or straunge and miraculous, as in both cases before remembred. The Phisition by the cordials hee will geue his patient, shall be able not onely to restore the decayed spirites of man, and render him health, but also to prolong the terme of his life many yeares ouer and aboue the stint of his first and naturall constitution. And the Gardiner by his arte will not onely make an herbe, or flowr, or fruite, come forth in his season without impediment, but also will embellish the same in vertue, shape, odour and taste, that nature of her selfe woulde neuer haue done: as to make the single gillifloure, or marigold, or daisie, double: and the white rose, redde, yellow, or carnation, a bitter mellon sweete; a sweete apple, soure; a plumme or cherrie without a stone; a peare without core or kernell, a goord or coucumber like to a horne, or any other figure he will: any of which things nature could not doe without mans help and arte. These actions also are most singular, when they be most artificiall.

In another respecte, we say arte is neither an aider nor a surmounter, but onely a bare immitatour of natures works, following and counterfeyting her actions and effects, as the Marmelot doth many countenances and gestures of man, of which sorte are the artes of painting and keruing, whereof one represents the naturall by light colour and shadow in the superficiall or flat, the other in a body massife expressing the full and emptie, euen, extant, rabbated, hollow, or whatsoeuer other figure and passion of quantitie.

So also the Alchimist counterfeits gold, siluer, and all other mettals, the Lapidarie pearles and pretious stones by glasse and other substances falsified, and sophisticate by arte. These men also be praised for their craft, and their credit is nothing empayred, to say that their conclusions and effects are very artificiall. Finally in another respect arte is as it were an encountrer and contrary to nature, production effects neither like to hers, nor by participation with her operations, nor by imitation of her paternes, but makes things and produceth effects altogether strange and diuerse, & of such forme & qualitie (nature alwaies supplying stuffe) as she neuer would nor could haue done of her selfe, as the carpenter that builds a house, the ioyner that makes a table or a bedstead, the tailor a garment, the Smith a locke or a key, and a number of like, in which case the workman gaineth reputation by his arte, and praise when it is best expressed & most apparant, & most studiously. Man also in all his actions that be not altogether naturall, but are gotten by study & discipline or exercise, as to daunce by measures to sing by note, to play on the lute, and such like, it is a praise to be said an artificiall dauncer, singer, & player on instruments, because they be not exactly knowne or done, but by rules & precepts or teaching of schoolemasters. But in such actions as be so naturall & proper to man, as he may become excellent therein without any arte or imitation at all, (custome and exercise excepted, which are requisite to euery action not numbred among the vitall or animal) and wherein nature should seeme to do amisse, and man suffer reproch to be found destitute of them: in those to shew himselfe rather artificiall then naturall, were no lesse to be laughed at, then for one that can see well inough, to vse a paire of spectacles, or not to heare but by a trunke put to his eare, nor feele without a paire of ennealed glooues, which things in deed helpe an infirme sence, but annoy the perfit, and therefore shewing a disabilitie naturall mooue rather to scorne then commendation, and to pitie sooner then to prayse. But what else is language and vtterance, and discourse & perswasion, and argument in man, then the vertues of a well constitute body and minde, little lesse naturall then his very sensuall actions, sauing that the one is perfited by nature at once, the other not without exercise & iteration? Peraduenture also it wilbe granted, that a man sees better and discernes more brimly his collours, and heares and feeles more exactly by vse and often hearing and feeling and seing, & though it be better to see with spectacles then not to see at all, ye tis their praise not egall nor in any mans iudgement comparable: no more is that which a Poet makes by arte and precepts rather then by naturall instinct: and that which he doth by long meditation rather then by a suddaine inspiration, or with great pleasure and facillitie then hardly (and as they are woont to say) in spire of Nature or Minerua, then which nothing can be more irksome or ridiculous.

And yet I am not ignorant that there be artes and methodes both to speake and to perswade and also to dispute, and by which the naturall is in some sorte relieued, as th'eye by his spectacle, I say relieued in his imperfection, but not made more perfit then the naturall, in which respect I call those artes of Grammer, Logicke, and Rhetorick not bare imitations, as the painter or keruers craft and worke in a forraine subiect viz. a liuely purtraite in his table of wood, but by long and studious obseruation rather a repetition or reminiscens naturall, reduced into perfection, and made prompt by vse and exercise. And so whatsoeuer a man speakes or perswades he doth it not by imitation artificially, but by obseruation naturally (though one follow another) because it is both the same and the like that nature doth suggest: but if a popingay speake, she doth it by imitation of mans voyce artificially and not naturally being the like, but not the same that nature doth suggest to man. But now because our maker or Poet is to play many parts and not one alone, as first to deuise his plat or subiect, then to fashion his poeme thirdly to vse his metricall proportions, and last of all to vtter with pleasure and delight, which restes in his maner of language and stile as hath bene said, whereof the many moodes and straunge phrase are called figures, it is not altogether with him as with the crafts man, nor altogither otherwise then with the crafts man, for in that he vseth his metricall proportions by appointed and harmonicall measures and distaunces, he is like the Carpenter or Ioynder, for borrowing their tymber and stuffe of nature, they appoint and order it by art otherwise then nature would doe, and worke effects in apparance contrary to hers. Also in that

which the Poet speakes or reports of another mans tale or doings, as Homer of Priamus or Vlisses, he is as the painter or keruer that worke by imitation and representation in a forrein subiect, in that he speakes figuratiuely, or argues subtillie, or perswades copiously and vehemently, he doth as the cunning gardiner that vsing nature as a coadiutor, furders her conclusions & many times makes her effectes more absolute and straunge. But for that in our maker or Poet, which restes onely in deuise and issues from an excellent sharpe and quick inuention, holpen by a cleare and bright phantasie and imagination, he is not as the painter to counterfaite the naturall by the like effects and not the same, nor as the gardiner aiding nature to worke both the same and the like, nor as the Carpenter to worke effectes vtterly vnlike, but euen as nature her selfe working by her owne peculiar vertue and proper instinct and not by example or meditation or exercise as all other artificers do, is then most admired when he is most naturall and least artificiall. And in the feastes of his language and vtterance, because they hold aswell of nature to be suggested and vttered as by arte to be polished and reformed. Therefore shall our Poet receaue prayse for both, but more by knowing of his arte then by vnseasonable vsing it, and be more commended for his naturall eloquence then for his artificiall well desembled, then for the same ouermuch affected and grossely or vndiscretly bewrayed, as many makers and Oratours do.

3.26. The Conclusion.

And with this (my most gratious soueraigne Lady) I make an end, humbly beseeching your pardon, in that I haue presumed to hold your eares so long annoyed with a tedious trifle, so as vnlesse it proceede more of your owne Princely and naturall mansuetude then of my merite, I feare greatly least you may thinck of me as the Philosopher Plato did of Aniceris an inhabitant of the City Cirene, who being in troth a very actiue and artificiall man in driuing of a Princes Charriot or Coche (as your Maiestie might be) and knowing it himselfe well enough, comming one day into Platos schoole, and hauing heard him largely dispute in matters

Philosophicall, I pray you (quoth he) geue me leaue also to say somewhat of myne arte, and in deede shewed so many trickes of his cunning how to lanche forth and stay, and chaunge pace, and turne and winde his Coche, this way and that way, vphill downe hill, and also in euen or rough ground, that he made the whole assemblie wonder at him. Quoth Plato being a graue personage, verely in myne opinion this man should be vtterly vnfit for any seruice of greater importance then to driue a Coche. It is great pitie that so prettie a fellow, had not occupied his braynes in studies of more consequence. Now I pray God it be not thought so of me in describing the toyes of this our vulgar art. But when I consider how euery thing hath his estimation by oportunitie, and that it was but the studie of my yonger yeares in which vanitie raigned. Also that I write to the pleasure of a Lady and a most gratious Queene, and neither to Priestes nor to Prophetes or Philosophers. Besides finding by experience, that many times idlenesse is lesse harmefull then vnprofitable occupation, dayly seeing how these great aspiring mynds and ambitious heads of the world seriously searching to deale in matters of state, be often times so busie and earnest that they were better be vnoccupied, and peraduenture altogether idle, I presume so much vpon your Maiesties most milde and gracious iudgement howsoeuer you conceiue of myne abilitie to any better or greater seruice, that yet this attempt ye wil allow of my loyall and good intent alwayes endeuouring to do your Maiestie the best and greatest of those seruices I can.