The Arte of English Poesie Part 20

And so returned againe to the first matter.

[Sidenote: _Hypotiposis_, or the counterfait representation.]

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 not 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.

[Sidenote: _Prosopographia_.]

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 _Iliades_, 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 for the Sumner, Pardoner, Manciple, and the rest of the pilgrims, most naturally and pleasantly.

[Sidenote: _Prosopopeia_, or the Counterfait in personation.]

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 moralities is taught.

[Sidenote: _Cronographia_, or the Counterfait time.]

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.

[Sidenote: _Topographia_, or the Counterfait place.]

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, h.e.l.l, 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 _Grysyll_.

[Sidenote: _Pragmatographia_, or the Counterfait action.]

But if such description be made to represent the handling of any busines with the circ.u.mstances belonging therevnto as the manner of a battell, a feast, a marriage, a buriall or any other matter that heth in feat and actiutie: we call it then the counterfeit action [_Pragmatographia_.]

In this figure the Lord _Nicholas Vaux_ a n.o.ble gentleman, and much delighted in vulgar making, & a man otherwise of no great learning but hauing herein a maruelous facillitie, made a dittie representing the battayle and a.s.sault 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.

_When Cupid scaled first the fort, Wherein my hart lay wounded sore, The battrie was of such a sort, That I must yeeld or die therefore.

There saw I loue vpon the wall, How he his banner did display, Alarme alarme he gan to call, And had his souldiers keepe aray.

The armes the which that Cupid bare, We pearced harts with teares besprent: In siluer and sable to declare The stedfast loue he alwaies meant.

There might you see his band all drest In colours like to white and blacke, With pouder and with pellets prest, To bring them forth to spoile and sacke, Good will the master of the shot, Stood in the Rampire braue and proude, For expence of pouder he spared not, a.s.sault a.s.sault to crie aloude.

There might you heare the Canons rore, Eche peece discharging a louers looke, &c._

[Sidenote: _Omiosis_, or Resemblance.]

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 fas.h.i.+ons in the hearers of conceits, I will set them 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 general resemblance, or bare _similitude_, which may be thus spoken.

_But as the watrie showres delay the raging wind, So doeth good hope cleane put away dispaire out of my mind._

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

_Then as the striken deere, withdrawes himselfe alone, So do I seeke some secret place, where I may make my mone._

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

_As the shadow (his nature beying such,) Followeth the body, whether it will or no, So doeth glory, refuse it nere so much, Wait on vertue, be it in weale or wo.

And euen as the shadow in his kind, What time it beares the carkas company, Goth oft before, and often comes behind: So doth renowne, that raiseth us so hye, Come to vs quicke, sometime not till we dye.

But the glory, that growth not ouer fast, Is euer great, and likeliest long to last._

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

_The launce so bright, that made Telephus wound, The same rusty, salued the sore againe, So may my meede (Madame) of you redownd, Whose rigour was first suthour of my paine._

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 fas.h.i.+on and by myselfe thus: _There be some fowles of sight so prowd and starke, As can behold the sunne, and neuer shrinke, Some so feeble, as they are faine to winke, Or neuer come abroad till it be darke: Others there be so simple, as they thinke, Because it s.h.i.+nes, so sport them in the fire, And feele vnware, the wrong of the desire, Fluttring amidst the flame that doth them burne, Of this last ranke (alas) am I aright, For in my ladies lookes to stand or turne I haue no power, ne find place to retire, Where any darke may shade me from her sight But to her beames so bright whilst I aspire, I perish by the bane of my delight._

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

_As true loue is constant with his enioy, And asketh no witnesse nor no record, And as faint loue is euermore most coy, To boast and brag his troth at euery word: Euen so the wise without enother meede: Contents him with the guilt of his good deede._

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

_As the good seedes sowen in fruitfull soyle, Bring foorth foyson when barren doeth them spoile: So doeth it fare when much good learning hits, Vpon shrewde willes and ill disposed wits._

And in these likening the wise man to an idiot.

_A sage man said, many of those that come To Athens schoole for wisdome, ere they went They first seem'd wise, then louers of wisdome, Then Orators, then idiots, which is meant That in wisedome all such as profite most, Are least surlie, and little apt to boast._

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

_After ill crop the soyle must eft be sowen, And fro s.h.i.+pwracke we sayle to seas againe, Then G.o.d forbid whose fault hath once bene knowen, Should for euer a spotted wight remaine._

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

_It fares not by fathers as by masters it doeth fare, For a foolish father may get a wise sonne, But of a foolish master it haps very rare Is bread a wise seruant where euer he wonne.

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

_Set the Giant deepe in a dale, the dwarfe vpon an hill, Yet will the one be but a dwarfe, th'other a giant still.

So will the wise be great and high, euen in the lowest place: The foole when he is most aloft, will seeme but low and base._

[Sidenote: _Icon_, or Resemblance by imagerie.]

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 the 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 courageous then the Lion, more bewtifull then the Angell. These are our verses in the end of the seuenth _Partheniade._ _Nature that seldome workes amisse, In womans brest by pa.s.sing art: Hath lodged safe the Lyons hart, And stately fixt with all good grace, To Serpents head an Angels face._

And this maner of resemblance is not onely performed by likening liuely creatures one to another, but also of any other naturall thing bearing a proportion of similitude, as to liken yellow 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: _Of siluer was her forehead hye, Her browes two bowes of hebenie, Her tresses trust were to behold Frizled and fine as fringe of gold._

And of her lips.

_Two lips wrought out of rubie rocke, Like leaues to shut and to vnlock.

As portall dore in Princes chamber: A golden tongue in mouth of amber._

And of her eyes.

_Her eyes G.o.d wot what stuffe they are, I durst be sworne each is a starre: As cleere and bright as woont to guide The Pylot in his winter tide._

And of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

_Her bosome sleake as Paris plaster, Helde up two balles of alabaster, Eche byas was a little cherrie: Or els I thinke a strawberie._

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

[Sidenote: _Parabola_ or Resemblance misticall.]

But whensoeuer 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 dricklie 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.

[Sidenote: _Paradigma_, or a resemblance by example.]

Finally, if in matter of counsell or perswasion we will seeme to liken one case to another, such as pa.s.se 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 expidition 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 compa.s.sion 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 _Dampeeter_ king of Spaine against _Henry_ b.a.s.t.a.r.d and vsurper. So haue many English Princes holpen with their forces the poore Dukes of Britaine their ancient friends and allies, against the outrages of the French kings: and why may not the Queene our soueraine Lady with like honor and G.o.dly 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 beastes, 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 not 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 mislliked, these were the verses.

The Elephant is strong, yet death doeth it subdue, The bull is strong, yet cannot death eschue.

The Lion strong, and slaine for all his strength: The Tygar strong, yet kilde is at the length.

Dread thou many, that dreadest not any one, Many can kill, that cannot kill alone._

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.