The Arte of English Poesie

CHAP. XVIII. [Sidenote: Synecdoche , or the Figure of quick conceite.] 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 vnderftanding, 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, aliudex 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. CHAP. XVIII. Of sensable figures altering and affecting the mynde by alteration of sense 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 entire 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 his 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 vse, 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. [Sidenote: Allegoria , or the Figure of false semblant.] And ye shall know that we may dissemble, I meane speake otherwise then we thinke, in earnest as well 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 coueniencie 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. Louely Lady I long full sore to heare, If ye remaine the same, I left you last yeare. To whom she answered in allegorie other two verses: My louing Lorde I will well that ye wist, The thred is spon, that neuer shall untwist. 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 streames (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: The cloudes of care haue coured all my coste, The stormes of strife, do threaten to appeare: The waues of woe, wherein my ship is toste. Haue broke the banks, where lay my life so deere. Chippes of ill chance, are fallen amidst my choise, To marre the minde that ment for to reioyce. 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. [Sidenote: Enigma , or the Riddle.] We dissemble againe vnder couert and darkes 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: It is my mother well I wot, And yet the daughter that I begot. 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: I haue a thing and rough it is And in the midst a hole I wis: There came a yong man with his ginne, And he put it a handfull in . 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. [Sidenote: Parimia , or Prouerb.] We dissemble after a sort, when we speake by comon prouerbs, or, as we vse to call them, old said sawes, as thus: As the olde cocke crowes so doeth the chick: A bad Cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick. Meaning by the first, that the yong learne by the olde, either to be good or euill in their behauiors: 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 owne 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 prouebiall speeches. [Sidenote: Ironia , or the Drie mock.] Ye doe likewise dissemble, when ye speake in derision or mokerie, & 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, & becaufe the king forgot to aske for them, neuer restored his ring againe. [Sidenote: Sarcasmus , or the Bitter taunt.] 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 , 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. [Sidenote: Asteismus or the Merry scoffe, otherwise the ciuill iest.] Or when we speake by manner of pleasantery, or mery skoffe, that is by a kind of mock, whereof the sence is farreset, & 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 if 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 sixteene 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. [Sidenote: Micterismus , or the Fleering frumpe.] 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, no doubt Sir of that. This fleering frumpe is one of the Courtly graces of hicke the scorner. [Sidenote: Antiphrasis , or the Broad floute.] Or when we deride 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 floute. [Sidenote: Charientismus , or the Priuy nippe.] Or when ye giue a mocke vnder smooth and lowly wordes as he that hard one call him all to nought and say, thou art 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 appealing mockery: all these be souldiers to the figure allegoria and fight vnder the banner of dissimulation. [Sidenote: Hiperbole , or the Ouer reacher, otherwise called the loud lyer.] 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 , Latines Demenitiens or the lying figure. I for his immoderate excesse cal him the ouer reacher right with his originall or [ lowd lyar ] & 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 speech is vsed, when either we would greatly aduaunce 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 a speaker in a Parliament of king Henry the eights raigne, in his Oration which ye know is of 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 stares 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 aud 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. Giue place ye louers here before, That spent your boasts and braggs in vaine: My Ladies bewtie passeth more, The best of your I dare well fayne: Then doth the sunne the candle light, Or brightest day the darkest night. And as a certaine noble Gentlewoman lamenting at the vnkindnesse of her louer said very pretily in this figure. But since it will no better be, My teares shall neuer blin: To moist the earth in such degree, That I may drowne therein: That by my death all men may say, Lo weemen are as true as they. [Sidenote: Periphrasis , or the Figure of ambage.] Then haue ye the figure Periphrasis , holding somewhat of the disembler, 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: Whom Princes serue, and Realmes obay, And greatest of Bryton kings begot: She came abroade euen yesterday, When such as saw her, knew her not. 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: The tenth of March when Aries receiued, Dan Phoebus raies into his horned hed. 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: The month and date when Aries receiud, Dan Phoebus raies into his horned head. 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: In winters iust returne, when Boreas gan his raigne, And euery tree vnclothed him fast as nature taught them plaine. 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 mentioned: 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 foule 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 faults in his verse, so deadly belie the matter by his description, as it would pitie any good maker to heare it. [Sidenote: Synecdoche , or the Figure of quick conceite.] Now for the shutting vp of this Chapter, will I remember you farther of that manner of speech which the Greekes call Synecdoche , and we the figure of [ quicke conceite ] who for the reasons before alleged, may be put under 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 towne 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 vnlacing. 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 zonan , saith the Poet, conceiuing out of a thing precedent, a thing subsequent. This may suffice for the knowledge of this figure [ quicke conceit. ] CHAP. XIX. Of Figures sententious, otherwise called Rhetoricall . Now if 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. Therefore 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 rhethoricall, besides their remembered 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 lesse liberally, and carrying or transporting of 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 therefore 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. [Sidenote: Anaphora , or the Figure of Report.] 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. To thinke on death it is a miserie To thinke on life it is a vanitie: To thinke on the world verily it is, To thinke that heare man hath no perfit blisse . And this written by Sir Walter Raleigh of his greatest mistresse iin most excellent verses. In vayne mine eyes in vaine you wast your teares, In vayne my sighs the smokes of my despaires: In vayne you search th'earth and heauens aboue, In vayne ye seeke, for fortune keeps my loue. Or as the buffon in our enterlude called Lustie London said very knauishly and like himselfe. Many a faire lasse in London towne, Many a bawdie basket borne up and downe: Many a broker in a thridbare gowne. Many a bankrowte scarce worth a crowne. In London . [Sidenote: Antistrophe , or the Counter turne.] 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 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. Her lowly lookes, that gaue life to my loue, With spitefull speach, curstnesse and crueltie: She kild my loue, let her rigour remoue, Her cherefull lights and speaches of pitie Reuiue my loue: anone with great disdaine, She shunnes my loue, and after by a traine She seekes my loue, and faith she loues me most, But seing her loue, so lightly wonne and lost: I longd not for her loue, for well I thought, Firme is the loue, if it be as it ought. The second vpon the merites of Christes passion toward mankind, thus, Our Christ the sonne of God, chief authour of all good, Was he by his allmight, that first created man: And with the costly price, of his most precious bloud, He that redeemed man: and by his instance wan Grace in the sight of God, his onely father deare, And reconciled man: and to make man his peere Made himselfe very man: brief to conclude the case, This Christ both God and man, he all and onely is: The man brings man to God and to all heauens blisse. 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. [Sidenote: Symploche , or the figure of replie.] 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 repetion, 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. _Who made me shent for her loues sake? Myne owne mistresse. Who would not seeme my part to take, Myne owne mistresse. What made me first so well content Her curtesie. What makes me now so sore repent Her crueltie._ 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. [Sidenote: Anadiplosis , or the Redouble.] 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: Comforte it is for man to haue a wife, Wife chast, and wise, and lowly all her life. Or thus: Your beutie was the cause of my first loue, Looue while I liue, that I may sore repent. The Greeks call this figure Anadiplosis , I call him the Redouble as the originall beares. [Sidenote: Epanalepsis , or the Eccho sound, otherwise, the slow return.] 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: Much must he be beloued, that loueth much, Feare many must he needs, whom many feare. Vnlesse I called him the eccho sound , I could not tell what name to giue him, vnlesse it were the slow returne. [Sidenote: Epizeuxis , or the Vnderlay, or Coocko-spel.] 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. The chiefest staffe of mine assured stay, With no small griefe, is gon, is gon away. And that of Sir Walter Raleighs very sweet. With wisdomes eyes had but blind fortune seene, Than had my looue, my looue for euer beene. The Greeks call him Epizeuxis , the Latines Subiunctio , we may call him the vnderlay , 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 the former verses, Maryne, Maryne , without any intermission at all. [Sidenote: Ploche , or the Doubler.] Yet haue ye 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: Yet when I sawe my selfe to you was true, I loued my selfe, bycause my selfe loued you. And this spoken in common Prouerbe. An ape wilbe an ape, by kinde as they say, Though that ye clad him all in purple array. 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. I praie you intreate no more for the man, Woodcocke wilbe a woodcocke do what ye can. 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: adieu, adieu my face, my face . 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 subtilitie in it, and therfore is a very foolish impertinency of speech, and not a figure. [Sidenote: Prosonomasia , or the Nicknamer.] 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 manner 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 origninall sense of the Prosonomasia , and is rather a by-name geuen in sport, than 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 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 Constantinus Cepronimus , 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 liue , thus. And all my life I will confesse, The lesse I loue, I liue the lesse. 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. [Sidenote: Woer.] Iche pray you good mother tell our young dame, Whence I am come and what is my name, I cannot come a woing euery day. Quoth the nurse. [Sidenote: 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. Proue me madame ere ye fall to reproue, Meeke mindes should rather excuse than accuse. 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. [Sidenote Traductio , or the tranlacer.] 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, Who liues in loue his life is full of feares, To lose his loue, liuelode or libertie But liuely sprites that young and recklesse be, Thinke that there is no liuing like to theirs. Or as one who much gloried in his owne wit, whom Persius taxed 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, Thou weenest thy wit nought worth if other weet it not As wel as thou thy selfe, but a thing well I wot, Who so in earnest weenes, he doth in mine aduise, Shew himselfe witlesse, or more wittie than wise. Here ye see how in the former rime this word life is tranlaced into liue, liuing, liuely, liuelode: & in the latter rime this word wit is translated into weete, weene, wotte, witlesse, witty & wise: which come all from one originall. [Sidenote: Antipophora , or Figure of responce.] 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 we 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. Wylie worldling come tell me I thee pray, Wherein hopest thou, that makes thee so to swell? Riches? alack it taries not a day, But where fortune the fickle list to dwell: In thy children? how hardlie shalt thou finde, Them all at once, good and thriftie and kinde: Thy wife? o' faire but fraile mettall to trust, Seruants? what theeues? what threachours and iniust? Honour perchance? it restes in other men: Glorie? a smoake: but wherein hopest thou then? In Gods iustice? and by what merite tell? In his mercy? o' now thou speakest wel, But thy lewd life hath lost his loue and grace, Daunting all hope to put dispaire in place. We read that Crates the Philosopher Cinicke in respect of the manifold discommodities of mans life, held opinion that it 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. What life is the liefest? the needy is full of woe and awe, The wealthie full of brawle and brabbles of the law: To be a married man? how much art thou beguild, Seeking thy rest by carke, for houshold wife and child: To till it is a toyle, to grase some honest gaine, But such as gotten is with great hazard and paine: The sayler of his shippe, the marchant of his ware, The souldier in armes, how full of dread and care? A shrewd wife brings thee bate, wiue not and neuer thriue, Children a charge, childlesse the greatest lacke aliue: Youth witlesse is and fraile, age sicklie and forlorne, Then better to dye soone, or neuer to be borne. Metrodorus the Philosopher Stoick was of a contrary opinion, reuersing all the former suppositions against Crates , thus. What life list ye to lead? in good Citie and towne Is wonne both wit and wealth, Court gets vs great renowne, Countrey keepes vs in heale, and quietnesse of mynd, Where holesome aires and exercise and pretie sports we find: Traffick it turnes to gaine, by land and eke by seas, The land-borned liues safe, the forriene at his ease: Housholder hath his home, the roge romes with delight, And makes moe merry meales, then dothe the Lordly wight: Wed and thost hast a bed, of solace and of ioy, Wed not and haue a bed, of rest without annoy: The setled loue is safe, sweete is the loue at large, Children they are a store, no children are no charge, Lustie and gay is youth, old age honourd and wise: Then not to dye or be unborne, is best in myne aduise. 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. When wert thou borne desire? In pompe and pryme of May, By whome sweete boy wert thou begot? By good conceit men say, Tell me who was they nurse? Fresh youth in sugred ioy. What was thy meate and dayly foode? Sad sighes with great annoy. What hast thou then to drinke? Vnfayned louers teares. What cradle wert thou rocked in? In hope deuoyde of feares. [Sidenote: Synteiosis , or the Crosse copling.] 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. The niggards fault and the unthrifts is all one, For neither of them both knoweth how to vse his owne. Or thus. The couetous miser, of all his goods ill got, Aswell wants that he hath, as that he hath not . In this figure of the Crosse-couple we wrate for a forlorne louer complaining of his mistresse crueltie these verses among other. Thus for your sake I daily dye, And do but seeme to liue in deede: Thus is my blisse but miserie, My lucre losse without your meede. [Sidenote: Atanaclasis, or the Rebounde.] 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. To pray for you euer I cannot refuse, To pray vpon you I should you much abuse. 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. _He is but course to runne a course, Whose shankes are bigger then his thye: Yet is his lucke a little worse, That often dyes before he dye. Where ye see this word course , and dye , vsed in diuers sences, one giuing the Rebounde vpon th'other. [Sidenote: Clymax , or the Marching figure.] 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 proceeds 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 Clymax 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 forture came to great estate and dignitie. His vertue made him wise, his wisedome broght him wealth, His wealth won many friends, his friends made much supply: Of aides in weale and woe in sicknesse and in health, Thus came he from a low, to sit in state so hye. Or as Ihean de Mehune the French Poet. Peace makes plentie, plentie makes pride, Pride breeds quarrell, and quarrell brings warre: Warre brings spoile, and spoile pouertie, Pouertie pacience, and pacience peace. So peace brings warre, and warre brings peace. [Sidenote: Antimetauole , or the Counterchange] 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. We dwell not here to build us boures, And halles for pleasure and good cheare: But halles we build for us and ours, To dwell in then whilst we are here. 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. We wish not peace to maintaine cruell warre, But we make warre to maintaine us in peace. Or thus. If Poesie be, as some haue said, A speaking picture to the eye: Then is a picture not denaid, To be a muet Poesie. Or as the Philosopher Musonius wrote. With pleasure if we worke vnhonestly and ill, The pleasure passeth, the bad it bideth still. Well if we worke with trauaile and with paines, The paine passeth and still the good remaines. A wittie fellow in Rome wrate vnder the Image of Caesar the Dictator these two verses in Latine, which because they are spoke by this figure of Counterchaunge I haue turned into a couple of English verses very well keeping the grace of the figure. Brutus for casting out of kings, was first of Consuls past, Caesar for casting Consuls out, is of our kings the last. Cato of any Senatour not onely the grauest but also the promptest and wittiest in any ciuill scoffe, misliking greatly the engrossing of offices in Rome that one should haue many at once, and a great number goe without that were as able men, said thus by Counterchaunge . It seemes your offices are very litle worth, Or very few of you worthy of offices. Againe: In trifles earnest as any man can bee, In earnest matters no such trifler as hee. [Sidenote: Insultatio , or the Disdainefull.] Yee haue another figure much like to the Sarcasimus , 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 chose to name him the Reproachfull or scorner , as when Queene Dido saw, that for all her great loue and entertainements bestowed vpon AEneas , he would needs depart and follow the Oracle of his destinies, she brake out in a great rage and said disdainefully. Hye thee, and by the wild waues and the wind, Seeke Italie and Realmes for thee to raigne, If piteous Gods haue power amidst the mayne, On ragged rocks thy penaunce thou maist find. Or as the poet Iuuenall reproached the couetous Merchant, who for lucres sake passed on no perill either by land or sea, thus: Goe now and giue thy life unto the winde, Trusting unto a piece of bruckle wood, Foure inches from thy death or seauen good The thickest planke for shipboord that we finde. [Sidenote: Antitheton , or the renconter] Ye haue another figure very pleasnt 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 scholler in Oxford they called euery such one Iohannes ad oppositum. Good haue I doone you, much, harme did I neuer none, Ready to ioy your gaines, your losses to bemone, Why therefore should you grutch so sore as my welfare: Who onely bred your blisse, and neuer causd your care. Or as it is in these two 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 . His bent is sweete, his loose is somewhat sowre, In ioy begunne, ends oft in wofull bowre. Maister Diar in this quarelling figure. Nor loue hath now the force, on me which it ones had, Your frownes can neither make me mourne, nor fauors make me glad. Socrates 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: My neighbour hath a wife, not fit to make him thriue, But good to kill a quicke man, or make a dead reuiue. So shrewd she is for God, so cunning and so wise, To counter with her goodman, and all by contraries. For when he is merry, she lurcheth and she loures, When he is sad she singes, or laughes it out by houres. Bid her be still her tongue to talke shall neuer cease, When she should speake and please, for spight she holds her peace, Bid spare and she will spend, bid spend she spares as fast, What first ye would haue done, be sure it shalbe last. Say go, she comes, say come, she goes, and leaues him all alone, Her husband (as I thinke) calles her ouerthwart Ione. [Sidenote: Erotema , or the Questioner.] 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 when Medea excusing her great crueltie vsed in the murder of her owne children which she had by Iason , said: Was I able to make them I praie you tell, And am I not able to marre them all aswell? Or as another wrote very commendably. _Why strive I with the streame, or hoppe against the hill, On search that neuer can be found, and loose my labour still? 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 employd in any such businesse, said by way of skoffe in this figure. Must not (trowe ye) this message be well sped, That hath neither heart, nor heeles, nor hed? 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: No fortune base or frayle can alter thee. And can so blind a witch so conquere mee? [Sidenote: Ecphonisis , or the Outcry.] 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. O soppe of sorrow soonken into care, O caytife Cresseid, for now and evermare . Or as Gascoine wrote very passionatly and well to purpose: Ay me the dayes that I in dole consume, Alas the nights which witnesse well mine woe: O wrongfull world which makest my fancie faine Fie fickle fortune, fie, fie thou art my foe: Out and alas so froward is my chance, No nights nor daies, nor worldes can me auance. Petrarche in a sonet which Sir Thomas Wiat Englished excellently well, said in this figure by way of imprecation and obtestation: thus, Perdie I said it not, Nor neuer thought to doo: Aswell as I ye wot, I haue no power thereto: "And if I did the lot That first did me enchaine, May neuer shake the knot But straite it to my paine. "And if I did each thing, That may do harme or woe: Continually may wring, My harte where so I goe. "Report may alwaies ring: Of shame on me for aye, If in my hart did spring, The wordes that you doo say. "And if I did each starre, That is in heauen aboue. And so forth, &c. [Sidenote: Brachiologa , or the Cutted comma] 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. Enuy, malice, flattery, disdaine, Auarice, deceit, falsned, filthy gaine. 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. [Sidenote: Parison , or the Figure of euen] 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. The good is geason, and short is his abode, The bad bides long, and easie to be found: Our life is loathsome, our sinnes a heavy lode, Conscience a curst iudge, remorse a priuie goade. Disease, age and death still in our eare they round, That hence we must the sickly and the sound: Treading the steps that our forefathers troad, Rich, poore, holy, wise; all flesh it goes to ground. In a prose there should not be vsed at once of such euen clauses past three or foure at the most. [Sidenote: Sinonimia , or the Figure of store] 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. It he aliue, Is he as I left him queauing and quick, And hath he not yet geuen up the ghost, Among the rest of those that I haue lost? Or if it be in single words, then thus. What is become of that beautifull face, Those louely lookes, that fauour amiable, Those sweete features, and visage full of grace, That countenance which is alonly able To kill and cure? Ye see that all these words, face, lookes, fauour, features, visage, countenance, are all in sence but all one. Which store, neuerthelesse, doeth much beautifie and inlarge the matter. So said another. My faith, my hope, my trust, my God and eke my guide, Stretch forth thy hand to saue the soule, what ere the body bide. Here faith, hope and trust be words of one effect, allowed to vs by this figure of store. [Sidenote: Metanoia , or the Penitent.] Otherwhiles we speake and be sorry for it, as if we had not wel spoken, so that we seeme to call in our word againe, and to put 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. O peereles you, or els no one aliue, Your pride serues you to seaze them all alone: Not pride madame, but praise of the lion, To conquer all and be conquerd by none. And in another Parthemiade thus insinuating her Maiesties great constancy in refusall of all marriages offred her, thus: Her heart is hid none may it see, Marble or flinte folke weene it be. Which may imploy rigour and cruelty, than correcteth it thus. Not flinte I trowe I am a lier, But Siderite that feeles no fire. By which is intended, that it proceeded of a cold and chast complexion not easily allured to loue. [Sidenote: Antenagoge , or the Recompencer] 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. I must needs say, that my wife is a shrewe, but such a huswife as I know but a fewe. Another in his first preposition giuing a very faint commendation to the Courtiers life, weaning to make him amends, made it worse by a second proposition, thus: The Courtiers life full delicate it is, but where no wise man will euer set his blis. And an other speaking to the incoragement of youth in studie and to be come excellent in letters and armies, said thus: Many are the paines and perils to be past, But great is the gaine and glory at the last. [Sidenote: Epithonema , or the Surclose.] 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 wich 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. Tant molis erat Romanum condere gentens. In English thus: So huge a peece of worke it was and so hie, To reare the house of Romane progenie. Sir Philip Sidney very pretily closed vp a dittie in this sort. What medcine then, can such disease remoue, Where loue breedes hate, and hate engenders loue. 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 . Than if there bee, Any so cancard hart to grutch, At your glories: my Queene: in vaine, Repining at your fatall raigne; It is for that they feele too much, Of your bountee. As who would say her owne ouermuch lenitie and goodness, 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: Lo what an outrage, could cause to be done, The peevish scruple of blinde religion. [Sidenote: Auxesis , or the Auancer] 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: He lost besides his children and his wife, His realme, ronowne, liege, libertie and life. 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 every word that is spoken is one of more weight then another. And as we lamented the crueltie of an inexorable and unfaithfull mistresse. If by the lawes of love it be a falt, The faithfull friend, in absence to forget: But if it be (once do thy heart but halt,) A secret sinne: what forfet is so great: As by despute in view of every eye, The solemne vowes oft sworne with teares so salt, As holy Leagues fast seald with hand and hart: For to repeale and breake so wilfully? But now (alas) without all iust desart, My lot is for my troth and much goodwill, To reape disdaine, hatred and rude refuse, Or if ye would worke me some greater ill: And of myne earned ioyes to feele no part, What els is this (o cruell) but to vse, Thy murdring knife to guiltlesse bloud to spill. 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 cruel & bloudy deede. And thus againe in a certaine lovers complaint made to the like effect. They say it is a ruth to see thy lover neede, But you can see me weepe, but you can see me bleede: And neuer shrinke nor shame, ne shed no teare at all, You make my wounds your selfe, and fill them up with gall: Yea you can see me sound, and faint for want of breath, And gaspe and grone for life, and struggle still with death, What can you now do more, sweare by your maydenhead, The for to flea me quicke, or strip me being dead. 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. [Sidenote: Meiosis , or the Disabler.] After the Auancer followeth the abbaser working by wordes and sentences of extenuation or diminution. Whereupon we call him the Disabler or 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. Not all the skill I haue to speake or do, Which litle is God wot (set loue apart:) Liueload nor life, and put them both thereto, Can counterpeise the due of your desart. It may be also be done for despite to bring our aduersaries in contempt, as he that sayd by one (commended for a very braue souldier) disabling him scornefully, thus. A iollie man (forsooth) and fit for the warre, Good at hand grippes, better to fight a farre: Whom bright weapon in shew as is said, Yea his owne shade; hath often made afraide. The subtilitie of the scoffe lieth in these Latin wordes [ eminus & cominus pugnare .] Also we vse this kind of Extenuation when we take in hand to comfort or cheare any perillous enterprise, making a great matter seeme small, and of litle 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 than 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 Courtly maner of speach with our egalls or inferiours, as to call a young Gentlewoman Mall for Mary , Nell for Elner : 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 . But will you weet, My litle muse, nay prettie moppe: If we shall algates change our stoppe, Chose me a sweet. 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 Contadilio : the Italian calleth the poore man by contempt pouerachio or pouerino , the little beast animalculo or animaluchio , and such like diminutiues appertaining to this figure, the ( Disabler ) more ordinary in other languages than our vulgar. [Sidenote: Epanodis , or the figure of Retire] This figure of retire holds part with the propounder of which we spake before( prolepsis ) because of the resumption of a former proposition vuttered 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 [Greek: illegible] serues both sences resound and retire. The vse of this figure, is seen in this dittie following, Loue hope and death, do stirre in me much strife, As neuer man but I lead such a life: For burning loue doth wound my heart to death: And when death comes at call of inward grief, Cold lingring hope doth feede my fainting breath: Against my will, and yeelds my wound relief, So that I liue, but yet my life is such: As neuer death could greeue me halfe so much. [Sidenote: Dialisis , or the Dismembrer.] Then haue ye a maner 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. It can not be but nigarsdship or neede, Made him attempt this foule and wicked deede: Nigardship not, for alwayes he was free, Nor neede, for who doth not his richesse see? Or as one than entreated for a faire young maide who was taken by the watch in London and carried to Bridewell to be punished. Now gentill Sirs let this young maide alone, For either she hath grace or els she hath none: If she haue grace, she may in time repent, If she haue none what bootes her punishment. Or as another pleaded his deserts with his mistresse. Were it for grace, or els in hope of gaine, To say of my deserts, it is but vaine: For well in minde, in case ye do them beare, To tell them oft, it should but irke your eare: Be they forgot: as likely should I faile, To winne with wordes, where deedes can not preuaile. [Sidenote: Merismus , or the Distributer.] Then haue ye a figure very meete for Orators or eloquent perswaders such as our maker or Poet must in some cases shew him selfe to be, and is when we may coueniently vtter a matter in one entier speach or proportion and will rather do it peecemeale and by distrbution 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. Set me whereas the sunne doth parch the greene, Or where his beames do not dissolue the yce: In temperate heate where he is felt and seene, In presence prest of people mad or wise: Set me in hye or yet in low degree, In longest night or in the shortest day: In clearest skie, or where clouds thickest bee, In lustie youth or when my heares are gray: Set me in heauen, in earth or els in hell, In hill or dale or in the foaming flood: Thrall or at large, aliue where so I dwell, Sicke or in health, in euill fame or good: Hers will I be, and onely with this thought, Content my selfe, although my chaunce be naught. All which might haue been said in these two verses. Set me wherefoeuer ye will I am and wilbe yours still. 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. Not your bewtie, most gracious soueraine, Nor maidenly lookes, mainteind with maiestie: Your stately port, which doth not match but staine, For your presence, your pallace and your traine, All Princes Courts, mine eye could euer see: Not of your quicke wits, your sober gouernaunce: Your cleare forsight, your faithfull memorie, So sweete features, in so staid countenaunce: Nor languages, with plentuous utterance, So able to discourse, and entertaine: Not noble race, farre beyond Caesars raigne, Runne in right line, and bloud of nointed kings: Not large empire, armies, treasurs, domaine, Lustie liueries, of fortunes dearst darlings: Not all the skilles, fit for a Princely dame, Your learned Muse, with vse and studie brings. Not true honour, ne that immortall fame Of mayden raigne, your only owne renowne And no Queenes els, yet such as yeeldes your name Greater glory than doeth your treble crowne.

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