Chapter VII.

Masques and General Influence

I

The history of the English masque offers a very interesting study in what may be called literary morphology. Under the influence of the stage the early disguisings and spectacular dances developed into a semi-dramatic kind, intermediate between the literary drama and mere scenic displays, and recognized as possessing a definite nature and proper limitations of its own. To this highly individualized form of art the term masque may often with convenience and propriety be restricted, but all such rigid and exclusive definitions have this disadvantage, that they tend to make lines of division appear clearer and more logically convincing than they in fact usually are, and further that they tempt us to neglect the often numerous and closely allied specimens which cannot be brought to accommodate themselves to the abstract type. Those writers who deny that _Comus_ is a masque are entirely justified from their point of view; it is a question of classification, and the classification which it is convenient to adopt may vary according to the nature of the investigation in hand. It must not, therefore, be thought that I place myself in antagonism to critics such as Dr. Brotanek for example, if I give to the term masque its widest possible signification as including not only the regular and highly developed compositions of the Jonsonian type, but also mere pageants on the one hand, and what may be called miniature plays on the other; all dramatic or semi-dramatic pieces, in short, which it is undesirable or inconvenient to treat along with the regular productions. Approaching the question as we do, not from the point of view of the evolution of a particular literary form, but from that of a persistent ideal and quasi-philosophical tradition, which manifests itself in all manner of forms and fashions, we have a perfect right to adopt whatever classification suits our purpose best, provided always that we have a clear notion what it is we are discussing. I propose, therefore, to treat in chronological order all those pieces which, owing to their less fully developed dramatic form, were omitted from the previous chapter. Something no doubt has been sacrificed by thus separating the regular dramas from the slighter and more occasional compositions, for in the earlier times especially these latter serve to fill considerable gaps in the sequence, and must have had a powerful influence in fashioning that pastoral tradition to which the pieces we have already considered belong.

The connexion of the pastoral with the masque began very early, and may well have been more constant than we should be tempted to suppose from the isolated examples that remain. The union was a natural one, for the pastoral, whether in its Arcadian or chivalric guise, was well suited to supply the framework for graceful poetry and elaborate dances alike, while the rustic and burlesque elements were equally capable of furnishing matter for the antimasque, when the form had reached that stage of structural elaboration. The allusive and allegorical features which had long been traditional in the pastoral likewise suited the topical and occasional nature of the masque. The connexion, however, with the stricter forms at least, was never very close, the tendency on the part of the pastoral to confine itself to a mere external formalism being even more noticeable here than in the case of the regular drama.

The earliest instance of this connexion of which we have notice is one of interest in English history. It is none other than the masquerade in which Henry appeared disguised as a shepherd at Wolsey's feast, which, according to Shakespeare, was the occasion of his first meeting with Anne Boleyn. The disguising is attested by the authority of Cavendish and Hall, but it is clear that the pastoral element was confined to the garb, there being no indication of anything of the nature of a literary presentation.

The first literary specimen of the kind does not appear till near the middle of Elizabeth's reign, and even then there is barely an excuse for classing it as pastoral. The composition in question is the slight entertainment, to which the name of _The Lady of May_ has been given by modern critics, composed by Sidney for presentation before Elizabeth during her visit to Leicester at Wanstead, in May, 1578. It appears to have been his earliest work. Though not itself a masque in the strict sense of the word in which we have learnt to use it, the piece contains the undeveloped germs of most of the later characteristics of the kind. The Queen in her walks through the grounds came to a spot where the May-Lady was being courted by a shepherd and a 'foster,' hotly contending for the prize. The strife was stayed, and, the deserts of either party being duly set forth, the Lady referred the choice to the Queen, who decided in favour of the pastoral suitor. A song and music ended the show. A strongly rustic element is sustained by the Lady's mother and the old shepherd Dorcas, while a touch of broad burlesque is introduced in the character of the pedagogue Rombus, who speaks in a style really little more extravagant than that of Sidney's own _Arcadia_. As in the romance, at the end of which the piece was first printed in 1598, the occasional songs are of small merit.

The spring-like freshness that characterizes so much of Peele's best work breathes deliciously through the polite convention of the _Descensus Astraeae_, the 'Pageant, borne before M. William Web, Lord Maior of the Citie of London on the day he tooke his oath; beeing the 29. of October. 1591.' The conceit is graceful in itself, and significant of the sentiment of contemporary London. Astraea, bearing her sheep-hook as a sort of pastoral sceptre, typified the Queen, and passed on in her triumphal car with the words:

Feed on, my flock, among the gladsome green, Where heavenly nectar flows above the banks; Such pastures are not common to be seen: Pay to immortal Jove immortal thanks, For what is good fro heaven's high throne doth fall; And heaven's great architect be praised for all[339].

In her praise the graces, the virtues, and a champion utter appropriate speeches, whilst Superstition, a friar, and Ignorance, a priest, together with other malcontents, shrink back abashed before her onward march.

The following year appeared the anonymous 'Speeches delivered to her Majestie this last progresse, at the Right Honorable the Lady Russels, at Bissam, the Right Honorable the Lorde Chandos, at Sudley, at the Right Honorable the Lord Norris, at Ricorte.' This piece being very characteristic of a certain sort of courtly shows, and itself possessing rather greater intrinsic interest than is to be found in most of the compositions we shall have to examine, may lay claim to a somewhat more detailed discussion. As the Queen approached through the woods towards Bisham, cornets were heard to sound, and presently there appeared a wild man who began his speech thus:

I followed this sounde, as enchanted; neither knowing the reason why, nor how to bee ridde of it: unusuall to these Woods, and, I feare, to our gods prodigious. Sylvanus whom I honour, is runne into a Cave: Pan, whom I envye, courting of the Shepheardesse. Envie I thee Pan? No, pitty thee; an eie-sore to chast Nymphes, yet still importunate. Honour thee Sylvanus? No, contemne thee; fearefull of Musicke in the Woods, yet counted the god of the Woods.

He then proceeds to welcome the royal visitor. Further on 'At the middle of the Hill sate Pan, and two Virgins keeping sheepe, and sowing in their Samplers.' Pan courts the shepherdesses, who mock him, and finally all join in welcome of the Queen. 'At the bottome of the hill,' we read further, 'entring into the hous, Ceres with her Nymphes in an harvest Cart, meete her Majesty, having a Crowne of wheat-ears with a Jewell.' Ceres sings:

Swel Ceres now, for other Gods are shrinking; Pomona pineth, Fruitlesse her tree; Fair Phoebus shineth Onely on mee. Conceit doth make me smile whilst I am thinking,... All other Gods of power bereven, Ceres only Queene of heaven.

With Robes and flowers let me be dressed; Cynthia that shineth Is not so cleare, Cynthia declineth When I appeere, Yet in this Ile shee raignes as blessed, ... And in my eares still fonde Fame whispers, Cynthia shalbe Ceres Mistres.

She then proceeds to welcome the Queen as 'Greater then Ceres.' At Sudely Castle her Majesty was received by an old shepherd with a long speech; whereafter we read: 'Sunday, Apollo running after Daphne,' a show accompanied by a speech from another shepherd, at the end whereof, the metamorphosis safely accomplished, 'her Majesty sawe Apollo with the tree, having on one side one that sung, on the other one that plaide.'

Sing you, plaie you, but sing and play my truth, This tree my Lute, these sighes my notes of ruth: The Lawrell leafe for ever shall bee greene, And chastety shalbe Apolloes Queene. If gods maye dye, here shall my tombe be plaste, And this engraven, 'Fonde Phoebus, Daphne chaste.'

'The song ended, the tree rived, and Daphne issued out, Apollo ranne after, with these words:'

Faire Daphne staye, too chaste because too faire, Yet fairer in mine eies, because so chaste, And yet because so chaste, must I despaire? And to despaire, I yeelded have at last.

'Daphne running to her Majestie uttered this:'

I stay, for whether should chastety fly for succour, but to the Queene of chastety, &c.

a speech which can without loss be left to the imagination of the reader. The third day's show was prevented by bad weather: it was designed thus. Summoned by one clad in sheep-skins, the Queen was to be led to where the shepherds of Cotswold were engaged in choosing a king and queen of the feast by the simple divination of a bean and a pea concealed in a cake. After a while spying her Majesty, the whole company should have joined in a welcome. The rest of the show is in no wise pastoral. The very marked Euphuism of the prose portions, combined with some lyrical merit, makes the composition worth notice, and has led to its ascription to the pen of Lyly himself. It was, of course, composed and presented for her Majesty's delectation at a time when Lyly's plays were the delight of the court; but however grateful we may feel to Mr. Bond for having made this and other similar pieces accessible in his edition of the poet, we need not necessarily accept his view of the authorship.[340]

To the end of the sixteenth century belong undoubtedly many of the pieces printed for the first time in 1637 in Thomas Heywood's volume of _Dialogues and Dramas_.[341] The only one of these that can really be styled pastoral is a slight composition entitled _Amphrissa, or the Forsaken Shepherdess_. Two shepherdesses, Pelopaea and Alope, meet and fall to discoursing of love and inconstancy, and cite incidentally the unhappy case of Amphrissa, who at that moment appears in person and joins in the conversation. The nymphs undertake her cure, and give her much wise counsel while they crown her with willow. Then there appears upon the scene the huntress queen of Arcadia herself, attended by her nymphs, virgin Diana, before whom the country maidens bow in awe. She graciously raises them, and the slight piece ends with dance and song.

In this drama or dialogue or masque, or whatever it may be most appropriately called, we see all plot disappear, and the interest concentrate itself in the dialogue, which, for all that it is written in blank verse of some rhythmical merit, reveals a strong inclination towards Euphuism. Thus we read of men how

like as the Chamelions change themselves Into all perfect colours saving white; So they can to all humors frame their speech, Save only to prove honest;

or else how

light minds are catcht with little things, And Phancie smels to Fennell.

Nor are other and more marked traces of Lyly's influence wanting: witness the following passage, which is a mere metrical paraphrase of a speech in the _Gallathea_ already quoted (p. 227):

You have an heate, on which a coldnesse waits, A paine that is endur'd with pleasantnesse, And makes those sweets you eat have bitter taste: It puts eies in your thoughts, eares in your heart: 'Twas by desire first bred, by delight nurst, And hath of late been wean'd by jelousie.

Certain speeches of a sententious nature, on the other hand, remind us rather of Daniel and the sonneteers:

To wish the best, to thinke upon the worst, And all contingents brooke with patience, Is a most soveraigne medicine.

All these characteristics point to an early date, and Mr. Fleay, who regards the piece as forming part of the _Five Plays in One_, acted at the Rose in April, 1597, may very likely be right. Of the other pieces printed in the same volume, a few only show any trace of pastoral blending with the general mythological colouring. Perhaps the most that can be said is that the nymphs are already familiar to us from the pastoral tradition, and must have been scarcely less so to a contemporary audience, fresh from the work of Peele and Lyly. In _Jupiter and Io_, which perhaps made part of the same performance as _Amphrissa_, Mercury disguises himself as a shepherd, in order to cut off the head of Argus. This he did to such good purpose that record of the trunkless member remains unto this day in the inventories of the Lord Admiral's company. Another of these pieces, the character of which can be easily imagined from its title, _Apollo and Daphne_, ends with a song, which may owe something to the traditions of the mythological pastoral:

Howsoe're the Minutes go, Run the heures or swift or slow: Seem the Months or short or long, Passe the seasons right or wrong: All we sing that Phoebus follow, _Semel in anno ridet Apollo_.

Early fall the Spring or not, Prove the Summer cold or hot: Autumne be it faire or foule, Let the Winter smile or skowle: Still we sing, that Phoebus follow, _Semel in anno ridet Apollo_.

Passing on to the seventeenth century, the first piece that demands attention is the St. John's Twelfth Night entertainment, _Narcissus_, performed at Oxford in 1602. If its pastoral quality is somewhat evanescent, there is another point of view from which the piece has a good deal of interest. It is, namely, a burlesque production of the nature of the Pyramus and Thisbe interlude in the _Midsummer Night's Dream_, and flavoured with something of the comic rusticity of Greene's Carmela eclogue in _Menaphon_. It is needless here to summarize the plot of the 'merriment' which the ingenious author, no doubt a student of St. John's, evolved from Ovid's account in the third book of the _Metamorphoses_, and which runs to the respectable length of some eight hundred lines.[342] I may be allowed, however, to note that echo verses, suggested by Ovid, are introduced and handled with more than usual ingenuity; and further to quote two characteristic passages. In one of these the nymphs Florida and Clois court the affections of the loveless hero.

_Florida._ Shine thou on mee, sweet plannet, bee soe good As with thy fiery beames to warme my bloud ...

_Narcissus._ To speak the truth, faire maid, if you will have us, O Oedipus I am not, I am Davus.

_Clois._ Good Master Davis, bee not so discourteous As not to heare a maidens plaint for vertuous.

_Nar._ Speake on a Gods name, so love bee not the theame.

_Flo._ O, whiter then a dish of clowted creame, Speake not of love? How can I overskippe To speake of love to such a cherrye lippe?

_Nar._ It would beseeme a maidens slender vastitye Never to speake of any thinge but chastitye.

_Flo._ As true as Helen was to Menela So true to thee will be thy Florida.

_Clo._ As was to trusty Pyramus truest Thisbee So true to you will ever thy sweete Clois bee.

_Flo._ O doe not stay a moment nor a minute, Love is a puddle, I am ore shooes in it.

_Clo._ Doe not delay us halfe a minutes mountenance That ar in love, in love with thy sweet countenance.

_Nar._ Then take my dole although I deale my alms ill, Narcissus cannot love with any damzell; Although, for most part, men to love encline all, I will not, I, this is your answere finall.

We are here, it is true, as far as ever from the delicate rusticity of Lorenzo de' Medici, and not particularly near to the humour of the Athenian rustics, but for burlesque it is passably amusing. The _Midsummer Night's Dream_ had appeared possibly a decade earlier, and the audience in the college hall at Oxford can hardly but have been reminded of Wall and Moonshine as they listened to the speech by one who enters carrying 'a buckett and boughes and grasse.'

A well there was withouten mudd, Of silver hue, with waters cleare, Whome neither sheep that chawe the cudd, Shepheards nor goates came ever neare; Whome, truth to say, nor beast nor bird, Nor windfalls yet from trees had stirrde. [_He strawes the grasse about the buckett._ And round about it there was grasse, As learned lines of poets showe, Which next by water nourisht was; [_Sprinkle water._ Neere to it too a wood did growe, _[Sets down the bowes._ To keep the place, as well I wott, With too much sunne from being hott. And thus least you should have mistooke it, The truth of all I to you tell: Suppose you the well had a buckett, And so the buckett stands for the well; And 'tis, least you should counte mee for a sot O, A very pretty figure cald _pars pro toto_.

The first strict masque of a pastoral character that we meet with is that of Juno and Iris, with the dance of nymphs and the 'sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,' introduced by Shakespeare into the _Tempest_; but this must not be taken as altogether typical of the independent productions of the time. The masques introduced into plays were necessarily, for the most part, of a slighter and less elaborate character than those performed at court, or for the entertainment of persons of rank. This is more particularly the case with the serions portions of the masques, since the actors, who were engaged for the performance of the antimasques in court revels, frequently transferred their parts bodily on to the public boards. Thus, in the entertainment in the _Winters Tale_, in which shepherds also appear, the main feature was a dance of satyrs, which was no doubt borrowed from Jonson's _Masque of Oberon_.[343] The _Tempest_ masque, however, is of the simpler type, without antimasque. At Juno's command Iris summons Ceres, and the goddesses together bestow their blessing on the young lovers. Then at Iris' call come the naiads and the reapers for the dance. The date of the play may be taken as late in 1610, or early the next year, a time at which the popularity of the masque was reaching its height.

Although the mythological element is everywhere prominent, the pastoral is comparatively of rare occurrence in the regular masque literature of the seventeenth century. This, considering the adaptability and natural suitability of the form, is rather surprising. Probably the masque as it evolved itself at the court of James needed a subject possessing a traditional story, or at least fixed and known conditions of a kind which the pastoral was unable to supply. Be this as it may, on one occasion only did Jonson make extended use of the kind, namely, in the masque which in the folio of 1640 appears with the heading 'Pans Anniversarie; or, The Shepherds Holy-day. The Scene Arcadia. As it was presented at Court before King James. 1625. The Inventors, Inigo Jones, Ben. Johnson[344].' Even here, however, we learn little concerning the condition of pastoralism in general, from the highly specialized form employed to a specific purpose. As in all the regular masques of the Jonsonian type the characters and situations exist solely for the opportunities they afford for dance and song. Shepherds and nymphs constitute the personae of the masque proper, while those of the antimasque are supplied by a band of Bocotian clowns, who come to challenge the Arcadians to the dance. Some of the songs are very graceful, suggesting at times reminiscences of Spenser, at others parallels to Ben's own _Sad Shepherd_, but the piece does not possess either sufficient importance or interest to justify our lingering over it. Outside this piece the nearest approach to pastoral characters to be found in Jonson's masques are, perhaps, the satyr and Queen Mab in the fairy entertainment at Althorp in 1603, Silenus and the satyrs in _Oberon_ in 1611, and Zephyrus, Spring, and the Fountains and Rivers in _Chloridia_ in 1631.

During James I's reign pastoral shows of a sort no doubt became frequent. While in some cases which remain to be noticed they reached the elaboration of small plays, in others they probably remained simple affairs enough. We get an interesting glimpse of the conditions of production in a note of John Aubrey's.[345] 'In tempore Jacobi,' he writes, 'one Mr. George Ferraby was parson of Bishops Cannings in Wilts: an excellent musitian, and no ill poet. When queen Anne came to Bathe, her way lay to traverse the famous Wensdyke, which runnes through his parish. He made severall of his neighbours, good musitians, to play with him in consort, and to sing. Against her majestie's comeing, he made a pleasant pastorall, and gave her an entertaynment with his fellow songsters in shepherds' weeds and bagpipes, he himself like an old bard. After that wind musique was over, they sang their pastorall eglogues.' This was in 1613; Ferraby or Ferebe later became chaplain to the king.

The more elaborate pieces were usually written for performance at schools or colleges. Such a piece is Tatham's _Love Crowns the End_, composed for the scholars of Bingham in Nottinghamshire in 1633, and printed in his _Fancy's Theatre_ in 1640. Small literary interest attaches to the play, which is equally slight and ill constructed, but is perhaps not unrepresentative of its class. In spite of its very modest dimensions it possesses a full romantic-pastoral plot, with the resuit that it is at times almost unintelligible, owing to the want of space in which to develop in an adequate and dramatic manner the motives and situations. The bewildering rapidity with which character succeeds character upon the stage must have made the representation almost impossible to follow, while the reading of the piece is not a little complicated by the confusion in which the stage directions remain in the only modern edition.[346] Some notion of the complexity of the plot may be gathered from the following account. Cliton, having in a fit of jealousy sought to kill his love Florida, is found wandering in the woods by Alexis, who receives his confession and shows him the way to repentance. Florida, moreover, has been found and healed by the wise shepherdess Claudia, and is living in retirement. Meanwhile Cloe (a name which it appears from the rimes that the author pronounced Cloi) is saved by Lysander from the pursuit of a Lustful Shepherd, in consequence of which she transfers to him the affection she previously bore to her lover Daphnes. Next Leon and his daughter Gloriana appear, together with the swain Francisco, to whom against her will the maiden is apparently betrothed. They all go off to view the games in which Lysander, whose heart is also fixed on Gloriana, proves victor. His refusal to entertain the affection of Cloe drives her to a state of distraction, in which the nymphs of the woods take pity on her and bring her to Claudia to be cured. Gloriana in the meantime returns the affections of Lysander, but the meeting of the lovers is interrupted by the jealous Francisco and a gang who wound Lysander and carry off Gloriana. She escapes from her captors, but only after she has lost her reason, and wanders about until she meets with Cliton, who has turned hermit and who now undertakes her cure. Throughout the play we find comic interludes by Scrub, a page or attendant in search of his master, who also has some farcical business with the Lustful Shepherd, who after being disappointed of Cloe disguises himself as a satyr, apparently deeming that rôle suited to his taste. In the end all the characters are brought together. Francisco, found contrite, is forgiven by Lysander and Gloriana; Cliton and Florida love once more; so do Daphnes and Cloe, appropriately enough. Scrub announces the death of the usurping duke, 'who banished good old Leon;' Francisco and Lysander reveal themselves as princes who left the court to win his daughter's love, when he was driven from his land, and so--love crowns the end.

Through this medley it is not hard to see the various debts the author has incurred towards his predecessors. The verse, in rimed couplets, whether deca- or octo-syllabic, ultimately depends on Fletcher; of the comic prose scenes I have already spoken in dealing with Goffe's _Careless Shepherdess_, a play the influence of which may perhaps be specifically traced in the satyr-disguise, the gang who carry off Gloriana, her unexplained escape, and the songs of the 'Destinies' and a 'Heavenly Messenger,' who in their inconsequence recall the 'Bonus Genius' of Goffe's play. Scrub may owe his origin to the same source, though he is rather more like the page in the _Maid's Metamorphosis_. The usurping duke recalls _As You Like It_; the princes seeking their love-fortunes among the shepherd folk suggest the _Arcadia_; while the influence of the _Faithful Shepherdess_ is not only traceable in the character of the Lustful Shepherd, but also in certain specific parallels, as where the wounded Lysander, seeing his love carried off, exclaims:

Stay, stay! let me but breathe my last Upon her lips, and I'll forgive what's past; (p. 24)

a reminiscence of the lines spoken by Alexis in a similar situation:

Oh, yet forbear To take her from me! give me leave to die By her! (_Faithful Shepherdess_, III. i. 165[347].)

The general level of the verse is not high, but we now and again light on some pleasing lines such as the following:

My dearest love, fair as the eastern morn As it breaks o'er the plains when summer's born, Hanging bright liquid pearls on every tree, New life and hope imparting, as to me Thy presence brings delight, so fresh and rare As May's first breath, dispensing such sweet air The Phoenix does expire in; sit, while I play The cunning thief, and steal thy heart away, And thou shalt stand as judge to censure me. (p. 18.)

So again there is some grace in a song which catches perhaps a distant echo of Peele's gem:

_Gloriana._ Sit, while I do gather flowers And depopulate the bowers. Here's a kiss will come to thee!

_Lysander._ Give me one, I'll give thee three!

_Both._ Thus in harmless sport we may Pass the idle hours away.

_Gloriana._ Hark! hark, how fine The birds do chime! And pretty Philomel Her moan doth tell. (p. 22.)

Another of these miniature pastorals is preserved in a British Museum manuscript, where it bears the title of _The Converted Robber_.[348] No author's name appears, but a plausible conjecture may be advanced. The scene of the piece, namely, is Stonehenge, and it is evident that the occasion on which it was first performed had some connexion with Salisbury, for there is obviously a topical allusion in the final words:

Lett us that do noe envy beare um Wish all felicity to Sarum.

Now in 1636,[349] according to Anthony à Wood, there was acted at St. John's College, Oxford, a play by John Speed, entitled _Stonehenge_, the occasion being the return of Dr. Richard Baylie after his installation as Dean of Salisbury. We can hardly be far wrong in identifying the two pieces. The only difficulty is that in the manuscript the play is dated 1637. This, however, may either be a mere slip of the scribe, or may possibly imply that the piece was produced in 1636-7, the scribe adopting the popular and modern, whereas Wood always adhered to the old or legal reckoning.

The piece possesses a certain interest from the fact of its forming, in a stricter sense than any of the other pieces we have examined, a link between the drama and the masque. In this it somewhat resembles _Comus_, employing a more or less dramatic plot as the setting for the formai dances of the masque.[350]

The story is simple enough. A band of robbers and a company of shepherds and shepherdesses keep on Salisbury Plain in the neighbourhood of Stonehenge--'stoy[=n]age y^{e} wonder y^{t} is vpon that Playne of Sarum'--which forms the background of the scene. It chanced that the shepherdess Clarinda, falling into the hands of the robbers, was saved from dishonour by their chief Alcinous, an action which won for him her love, and having escaped, she returned dressed as a boy in order to serve him. Meanwhile the robbers have decided to make a raid upon the shepherd folk, and Alcinous, disguising himself as a stranger shepherd, mixes among them, while his companions Autolicus and Conto lie in wait hard by. During a festival Alcinous seeks the love of Castina, Clarinda's sister, and finding her unmoved by entreaty threatens force. At this she attempts to stab herself, and the robber chief is so struck that he vows to reform and is converted to the pastoral life. His companions, left in the lurch, fall upon the shepherds of their own accord, but are soon brought to see reason by the hand and tongue of their chief, and are content to follow him in his conversion. Clarinda now discovers herself and marries Alcinous, while Castina and her fellow shepherdess Avonia consent to reward their faithful swains, Palaemon and Dorus.

In this piece there is a rather conspicuous absence of motive and dramatic construction, the author claiming apparently the freedom of the masque. The verse is mainly octosyllabic, sometimes blank, but the rough accentual 'rime' is also used. Decasyllabics are rare. There is also some prose in the comic part sustained by Autolicus and Conto and the aged clown Jarbus, as well as a certain amount of Spenserian archaism, and a good deal of dialect. Whether comic or romantic, the characters are singularly out of keeping with their surroundings, while the conceit of paganizing the Christian worship appears to be carried to ludicrous lengths, until one recollects that it depends almost entirely upon the substitution of the name of Pan for that of the Deity--a process no doubt facilitated by false etymology. Thus Christ, who is spoken of by name, is called 'Pannes blest babe.' After describing the foundation of Salisbury Cathedral, the old shepherd proceeds:

But sturdy shepherds brought all the other stones, And reard up that great Munster all at once, Wher shepherds each one, both woman and man, Do come to worship theyr great God Pann.

A rustic show formed the first part of an entertainment witnessed by Charles and Henrietta Maria at Richmond, after their return from a visit to Oxford in 1636. A clown named Tom comes in bearing a present for the queen, and is on the point of being unceremoniously removed by the usher, when he espies Mr. Edward Sackville, to whom he appeals, and a dialogue ensues between the two. After he has offered his present, Madge, Doll, and Richard come in, and the four perform a country dance. They are all plain Wiltshire rustics who talk a broad vernacular, but at the end a shepherd and shepherdess enter and sing a duet in a more courtly strain. The author of this slight production is not known, but it is regarded by the latest authority on masques as an imitation, in the looseness of its construction, of Davenant's _Prince d'Amour_.[351]

Little poetic ability was displayed by Heywood on the only occasion on which he introduced pastoral tradition into a Lord Mayor's pageant. The 'first show by land' of the _Porta Pietatis_, presented by the drapers in 1638 on the occasion of Sir Maurice Abbot's mayoralty, consisted of a speech by a shepherd, which is preceded in the printed copy by a short account of the properties, natural history, and general usefulness of sheep, as well as of their peculiar importance in relation to the craft honoured in the person of the newly appointed Lieutenant of the city of London. Heywood was famous for his wide, miscellaneous, and often startling information.

We have already seen how, in the first blush and budding of the Elizabethan spring, George Peele treated the tale of the judgement of Paris; on the same legend Heywood based one of his semi-dramatic dialogues; it remains to be seen how, in the late autumn of the great age of our dramatic literature, Shirley returned to the same theme in his _Triumph of Beauty_, privately produced about 1640. It is a regular masque, for which the familiar story serves as a thread; the goddesses and their symbolical attendants, or else the Graces and the Hours with Hymen and Delight, performing the dances, while a company of rustic swains of Ida, who come to relieve the melancholy of the princely shepherd, form a comic antimasque. It has, however, grown to the proportions of a small play. The comic characters also study a piece on the subject of the golden fleece, reminiscent, like _Narcissus_, of the _Midsummer Night's Dream_. This, as Mr. Fleay supposes, may well be satirical of some of the city pageants, though it is best to be cautious in discovering definite allusions. But the success of such a piece as the present, in so far as it was dependent on the _libretto_, demanded a power of light and graceful lyric versification which was not conspicuous among the many gifts of the author. The comic business is frankly amusing, but the long speeches of the goddesses can hardly have appeared less tedious to a contemporary audience than they do to the reader to-day.

I may also notice here a regular short pastoral in three acts, inserted by Robert Baron in his romance Ἐροτοπαίγνιον, _or the Cyprian Academy_, printed in 1647. It is entitled _Gripus and Hegio, or the Passionate Lovers_, and relates the loves of these characters for Mira and Daris; while we also find the familiar roguish boy, less amusing and of stricter propriety than usual; a chorus of fairies who discourse classical myth; Venus, Cupid, Hymen, and Echo; and the habitual concomitants of pastoral commonplace. The romance also contains a masque entitled _Deorum Dona_, in which figure allegorical abstractions such as Fame, Fortune, and the like. It is in no wise pastoral.

Another pastoral show of some elaboration, and of a higher order of poetry than most of those we have been considering, is Sir William Denny's _Shepherds' Holiday_, printed from manuscript in the _Inedited Poetical Miscellany_ of 1870. The piece appears to date from 1653, and is only slightly dramatic so far as plot is concerned. It is of an allegorical cast, the various characters typifying certain virtues, or rather temperaments--virginity, love and so forth--as is elaborately expounded in the preface.

A few slight pieces by the quondam actor Robert Cox, partaking more or less of the character of masques, possess a certain pastoral colouring. This is the case, for instance, in the _Acteon and Diana_, published in 1656.[352] The piece opens with the humours of the would-be lover Bumpkin, a huntsman, and the dance of the country lasses round the May-pole. Then enters Acteon with his huntsmen, who is followed by Diana and her nymphs. Upon the dance of these last Acteon, returning, breaks in unawares, and is rebuked by the goddess, who then retires with her nymphs to a glade in the forest. They are in the act of despoiling themselves for the bath when they are again surprised by Acteon. Incensed, the goddess turns upon him, and he flees before her anger, only to return once more upon the dance of the bathers in the shape of a hart, and fall at their feet a prey to his own hounds. The verse, whether lyric or dramatic, is of a mediocre description, and the piece, if it was ever actually performed, no doubt depended for success upon the music, dancing, and scenery. It is a curious fact, to which Davenant's work among others is witness, that the nominally private representation of this kind of musical ballet was permitted, while the regular drama was under strict inhibition. At any time, however, it must have been difficult to represent such a piece as the present without sacrificing either propriety or tradition.

Another similar composition, headed 'The Rural Sports on the Birthday of the Nymph Oenone,' is printed together with the above. In it the strains of the polished pastoral are varied by the humours of the clown Hobbinall, the whole ending with a speech by Pan and a dance of satyrs.

One obvions omission from the above catalogue will have been noticed. The reason thereof is sufficiently obvious; and the following section will endeavour to repair it.

II

In Milton's contribution to the fashionable masque literature of his day we approach work the poetic supremacy of which has never been called in question, and whose other qualities, lying properly beyond the strict application of that term, critics have habitually vied with one another to extol. No one, indeed, for whom poetry has any meaning whatever, can turn from the work of Peele, Heywood, and Shirley, of Ben Jonson even, to the early works of Milton, to such comparatively immature works as _Arcades_ and _Comus_, without being conscious that they belong to an altogether different level of poetical production. It was no mere conventional commendation, such as we may find prefixed to the works of any poetaster of the time, that Sir Henry Wotton addressed to the author of the Ludlow masque: 'I should much commend the Tragical [i.e. dramatic] part, if the Lyrical did not ravish me with a certain Dorique delicacy in your Songs and Odes, wherunto I must plainly confess to have seen yet nothing parallel in our Language[353].'

The two poems we have now to consider were, in all probability, written within a short while of one another, and the second anticipated by more than three years the composition of _Lycidas_. But the connexion between the two is not one of date only, nor even of the spectacular demand it was the end of either to meet. It may, namely, in the absence of any definite evidence, be with much plausibility presumed that the impulse to the entertainment, of which as we are told _Arcades_ formed a part, originated with that very Lady Alice Egerton and her two young brothers who, the following year probably, bore the chief parts in _Comus_. The entertainment was presented at Harefield in honour of their grandmother, the Countess Dowager of Derby. This lady, probably somewhat over seventy at the time, was the honoured head of a large family. The daughter of Sir John Spencer of Althorpe, born about 1560, she married first Ferdinando Stanley, Lord Strange, afterwards Earl of Derby, patron of the company of actors with whom Shakespeare's name is associated; and secondly, after his early death in 1594, the Lord Keeper, Sir Thomas Egerton, who rose by rapid steps to be Viscount Brackley shortly before his death in 1617. The span of a human life appears strange when measured by the rapidly moving events of the English renaissance. The wife of Shakespeare's patron, who may have witnessed the early ventures of the Stratford lad at the time of his first appearance on the London stage--the 'Amarillis' of _Colin Clout_, with whom, and with her sisters 'Phillis' and 'Charillis,' Spenser claimed kinship, and to whom he dedicated his _Tears of the Muses_ in 1591--lived to see her grandchildren perform for her amusement in the reign of the first Charles an entertainment for which their music-master Lawes had requisitioned the pen of the future author of _Paradise Lost_.

_Arcades_, or 'the Arcadians,' can hardly be dignified by the name of a masque; it is the mere embryo of the elaborate compositions which were at the time fashionable under that name, and of which Milton was to rival the constructional elaboration in his pastoral entertainment of the following year. It rather resembles such amoebean productions as we find introduced into the stage plays of the time; and was, no doubt, as the superscription explicitly informs us, but 'Part of an entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Darby.' Nevertheless it is complete and self-contained, and to speak of it, as Professer Masson does, as 'part, and part only, of a masque,' is to give a wholly false impression; for, whatever the rest of the entertainment may have been, there is not the least reason to suppose that it had any connexion or relation with the portion that has survived. This runs to a little over one hundred lines. A group of nymphs and shepherds, coming from among the trees of the garden, approach the 'seat of State' where sits the venerable Countess, whom they address in a song. As this ends their progress is barred by the Genius of the Wood, who delivers a long speech.[354] This is followed by a song introducing the dance, after which a third song brings the performance to a close. It cannot be honestly said that the bulk of this slender poem is of any very transcendent merit; but the final song stands apart from the rest, and deserves notice both on its own account and for the sake of that to which it served as herald:

Nymphs and Shepherds dance no more By sandy Ladons Lillied banks; On old Lycaeus or Cyllene hoar Trip no more in twilight ranks; Though Erymanth your loss deplore A better soyl shall give ye thanks. From the stony Maenalus Bring your Flocks, and live with us; Here ye shall have greater grace To serve the Lady of this place, Though Syrinx your Pans Mistres were, Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. Such a rural Queen All Arcadia hath not seen.

Here we have, if nothing else, promise at least of the melodies to be, as also of that harmonious interweaving of classical names which long years after was to lend weight and dignity to the 'full and heightened style' of the epic. One other point in connexion with the poem is noteworthy, the quality, namely, in virtue of which it claims our attention here. It is, indeed, not a little curious that on the only two occasions on which Milton was called upon to produce something of the order of the masque, he cast his work into a more or less pastoral form; and this in spite of the fact that, as we have seen, the form was by no means a prevalent one among the more popular and experienced writers. It would appear as though his mind turned, through some natural bent or early association, to the employment of this form; an idea which suggests itself all the more forcibly when we find him, a few years later, setting about the composition of a conventional lament in this mode on a young college acquaintance, and producing, through his power of alchemical transmutation, one of the greatest works of art in the English language.

It was, no doubt, in the earlier months of 1634, while his friend Lawes was engaged on the gorgeous and complicated staging and orchestration of the _Triumph of Peace_ and the _Coelum Britannicum_, that Milton composed the poem which perhaps more than any other has made readers of to-day familiar with the term 'masque.' In the second of the elaborate productions just named--a poem, be it incidentally remarked, which does no particular credit to the pen of its sometimes unsurpassed author, Tom Carew, but in the presentation of which the king and many of his chief nobles deigned to bear a part--minor rôles had been assigned to the two sons of the Earl of Bridgewater, namely, the Viscount Brackley and Master Thomas Egerton. When the earl shortly afterwards went to assume the Presidency of the Welsh Marches, it was these two who, together with their sister the Lady Alice, bore the central parts in the masque performed before the assembled worthies of the West in the great hall of Ludlow Castle. The ages of the three performers ranged from eleven to thirteen, the girl, who was the eighth daughter of the marriage, being the eldest.

It must have been a gay and imposing sight that greeted the spectators in the grim old border fortress, the gaunt ruins of which may yet be seen, but which had at that date already rubbed off some of its medieval ruggedness as a place of defence. Though necessarily less elaborate and costly than the performances in London, no pains were spared to make the spectacle worthy of the occasion, and it must have appeared all the more splendid in contrast to its surroundings, presented as it was in the great hall in which met the Council of the Western Marches in the distant town upon the Welsh border. Nor did the occasion lack the heightening glamour and dramatic contrast of historical association, for in this very hall just a century and a half before, if tradition is to be credited, the unfortunate Prince Edward, son of Edward IV, was crowned before setting out with his young brother on the fatal journey which was to terminate under a forgotten flagstone in the Tower of London.

I do not propose to enter into any detailed account of the manner in which we may suppose the masque to have been performed, nor into the literary history of the poem itself; to do so would be a work of supererogation in view of the able discussion of the whole subject from the pen of Professor Masson. The debts Milton owed to the _Somnium_ of Puteanus, to Peele's _Old Wives' Tale_ and to Fletcher's _Faithful Shepherdess_, are now all more or less recognized. From the first he probably borrowed the name and character of Comus himself, as well as a few incidental expressions. The second contains a remarkable parallel to the search of the two brothers for their lost sister, which it is difficult to suppose fortuitous; while many passages might be cited to prove Milton's close acquaintance with Fletcher's poem[355].

The masque as performed at Ludlow Castle probably differed in one important particular from the form in which we know it, and which is that in which it left Milton's hand. This form is attested by the original quarto edition, by the texts of the Poems of 1645 and 1673, and by Milton's manuscript draft in the volume preserved at Trinity College, Cambridge. The variant form is found in the manuscript at Bridgewater House, reputed to be in Lawes' handwriting, which seemingly represents the acting version. In Milton's text the scene discovered is a wild wood; the attendant Spirit descends, or enters, and at once launches out into a long speech in blank verse. Lawes seems to have thought that it would be more appropriate for the Spirit--that is, for himself, for it appears that he took the part--to open the performance with a song, and consequently transferred to this place the first thirty-six lines of the final lyrical speech of the Spirit, substituting the words 'From the heavens' for Milton's 'To the ocean.' The change was doubtless effective, and was skilfully made; yet one cannot help feeling that some of the magic of the poem has evaporated in the process. However, Lawes was loyal to his friend, and whatever alterations his wider knowledge of the requirements of stage production may have led him to introduce into the masque as performed at Ludlow, he never sought to foist any changes of his own into the published poem, when, having tired himself with making copies for his friends, he at length decided, with Milton's consent, to send it forth into the world in its slender quarto garb.

A brief analysis will serve to reveal the lines upon which the piece is constructed, and to show how far it follows the traditions respectively of the drama and the masque. The introductory speech puts the audience in possession of the situation, and informs them how the wood is haunted by Comus and his crew, himself the son of Bacchus and Circe, and how they seek to trick unwary passengers into drinking of the fateful cup which shall transform them to the likeness of beasts and, driving all remembrance of home and friends from their imaginations, leave them content 'to roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.' Wherefore the Spirit is sent to guide the steps of those 'favoured of high Jove,' and save them from the wiles of the fleshly god. Announcing that he goes to assume 'the weeds and likeness of a swain,' so as to perform his charge unknown, the Spirit leaves the stage, which is at once invaded by Comus and his rout. A brilliant speech by the god, preceding the first measure, illustrates the strange but yet not infrequent irony of fate by which it has happened that the most puritanical of poets have thrown the full weight of their best work into the opposing scale, and clothed vice in magic colours to outdo the richest fancies of the libertine. No doubt this reckless adorning of sin was intentional on Milton's part; he painted the pleasures of κῶμος in their most seductive colours, that the triumph of virtue might appear by so much the greater, fancying that it was enough to assert that final victory, and failing, like most preachers, to perceive that unless it was made psychologically and artistically convincing the total effect would be the very reverse of that which he intended. If we compare the speech of Comus with that of the Lady on her first appearance, we shall hardly escape the conclusion that then, as indeed always, Milton had a mere schoolboy's idea of 'plot,' as of some combination of events to be infused with the breath of life at his own will, and from without, not such as should spring from the fundamental elements of the characters themselves. In the midst of dance and revel Comus interrupts his followers:

Break off, break off, I feel the different pace Of some chast footing neer about this ground;

and the crew vanishes among the trees as the Lady enters alone and narrates how she lost her brothers at nightfall in the wood, and attracted by the sounds of mirth has bent hither her steps in the hope of finding some one to direct her. She then sings a song by way of attracting her brothers' attention, should they chance to be near. As she ends Comus re-enters in guise of a shepherd, and offers to escort her to his hut where she may rest until her companions are found. She has no sooner left the stage than these enter in search of her, and while away the time with a long discussion on the dangers of the wood and the protective power of virtue. To them at length enters the attendant Spirit, who has certainly been so far very remiss in his duties, in the habit of their father's shepherd Thirsis; and on hearing how they have parted company with their sister, tells of Comus and his enchantments, and arming his hearers with hemony, powerful against all spells, guides them to the hall of the sorcerer. The scene now changes to the interior of the palace of Comus, 'set out with all manner of deliciousness,' where the god and his rabble are feasting. On one side we may imagine an open arcade giving on to the banks of the Severn, silvery in the moonlight, the cool purity of its waters contrasting with the rich jewelled light and perfumed air within. We see the Lady seated in an enchanted chair, while before her stands the magician, wand in hand, offering her wine in a crystal goblet. Then follows the dialogue in which the Lady defends her virtue against the blandishments of Comus, till at last her brothers, followed by the spirit-shepherd, rush in and disperse the revellers. The Lady is now found to be fixed like marble in the chair of enchantment, but the attendant Spirit shows his resource by calling to their help the virgin goddess of the stream:

Sabrina fair Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of Lillies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair, Listen for dear honour's sake, Goddess of the silver lake, Listen and save.

Thus conjured in some of the most perfectly musical lines in the language the daughter of Locrine rises from her waves, and enters the hall with a song, attended by her obedient nymphs. Having broken the spell and freed the captive Lady, she at once departs with her train, and after another speech by the Spirit, the scene changes to the town and castle of Ludlow, a bevy of shepherds dancing in the foreground. After these have concluded their measure, the wanderers enter, still guided by the spirit-shepherd, who presents them safe and sound to their parents. Then follows another dance, and the Spirit, throwing off, we may presume, his pastoral disguise, launches into his final speech:

To the Ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that ly Where day never shuts his eye;

concluding:

Mortals that would follow me, Love vertue, she alone is free, She can teach ye how to clime Higher than the Spheary chime; Or if Vertue feeble were, Heav'n it self would stoop to her.

Such is the bare outline, the skeleton of the piece; what, we cannot help wondering, was it like when it first appeared clothed in the beauty of the flesh and inspired with the spirit of song? Its fashion and its form we have indeed yet before us, though nothing can again quicken it into the life it enjoyed for one brief hour nearly three hundred years ago. We must be thankful that we count the poem itself among our treasures, and be content to confine our inquiry to it. It is, after all, to the accidents of its production as the body to the robes that adorn it.

It must be confessed that outwardly at least _Comus_ has but little connexion with pastoral. The habit of the Spirit, the disguise of the magician, the dance in the third scene, these are the only points serving to connect the poem with pastoral tradition in any formal manner. It is not, however, on account of these that _Comus_ has been commonly assigned to the same category as the _Faithful Shepherdess_ and _Lycidas_, but rather because its whole tone, its mode, one might almost say, is essentially pastoral, and because it is directly dependent upon previous pastoral work.

It has been the fashion to praise _Comus_ above all other masques whatever, and from the point of view of the poetry it contains it would be idle to dispute its supremacy. But there are other considerations. As a masque proper, and from the point of view of what had come to be expected of such compositions, how does it stand? I am not here concerned to inquire how far the term can with strict propriety be applied to the piece, a question which may be left to the somewhat arid region of the formal classification of literature. The points in which it resembles the regular spectacular masques, as well as those in which it differs from them, will be alike evident from the analysis given above. It may, however, be well to put in a caution against the manner in which some writers on the masque seek to make their distinctions appear more clearly defined than they in reality are by declaring _Comus_ to be not a masque at all but a play. It is no more a regular play than it is a strict masque, but a dramatic composition containing elements of both in almost equal proportions.

That the songs are for the most part exquisite, that they were worthily set to music and adequately rendered; that the measures, the dance of the revellers in their half-brutish disguises, the antimasque of country folk, and the final or main dance of the wanderers, were effective; that the whole was graceful, complete and polished, is either self-evident to-day, or may with reason be inferred. The scenery, too, must have been striking; the dreary forest, its darkness just relieved by the half-seen 'glistering' forms; the heavy drug-like splendour of the enchanted palace and the cold moonlight outside; the bright, fresh sunshine, lastly, dew-washed, of the early morning; there were here a series of pictures the contrasts of which must have added to their individual effect. The scene, the song and the measure, these form, indeed, the very stuff that masques are made of. But Milton's poem offered more than this; and it may well be questioned how far this more was of a nature to recommend it to the tastes of his audience, or indeed to heighten rather than to diminish its merits as a work of literature and art. There was, in the first place, a philosophical and moral intention, which, however veiled in fanciful imagery and clothed in limpid verse, is yet not content to be an inspiring principle and artistic occasion of the poem, but obtrudes itself directly in the length of some of the speeches; refuses, that is, to subserve the aesthetic purpose, and endeavours to divert the poetic beauty to its own non-aesthetic ends. In the second place, and probably of greater importance as regards the actual success of the piece on the stage, it contained somewhat of dramatic emotion, of incident which depended for its value upon its effect on the characters involved, which was ill served by the spectacular machinery and necessary limitations of the composition, while at the same time it must have interfered with the opportunity for mere sensuous effect which it was the main business of the masque to afford. The weight which different persons will attach to these objections will no doubt vary with their individual temperaments, their susceptibility to the magical charm of the verse, their sense of artistic propriety, and the degree to which they are able to recall in imagination the conditions of a bygone form of artistic presentation. I speak for myself when I say that, in fitness for the particular end it had to serve, Milton's poem appears to me to be surpassed, for instance, by the best of Jonson's masques, no less than it surpasses them, and all others of their kind, in the poetical beauty of the verse, whether of the 'tragical' or lyrical portions.

Since I have ventured to formulate certain objections against an acknowledged masterpiece, it will be well that I should define as clearly as possible the ground upon which those objections are based. I have, I hope, sufficiently emphasized my dissent from that school of criticism which condemns a work of art for not conforming to one or another of a series of fixed types. That _Comus_ lies, so to speak, midway between the drama and the masque, and partakes of the nature of either, is not, by any inherent law of literary aesthetics, a blemish; what in my view is a blemish, and that a serions one, is that the means employed are not calculated to the demands of the situation. The struggle of the Lady against the subtle enchanter, the search of the brothers for their lost sister, the safe event of their wanderings, are all points which, however simple in themselves, yet excite our interest; however certain we may feel that virtue in the person of the Lady will never fall to the allurements of Comus, they neither of them become a mere abstraction. That is to say that, little as there may be of plot, the interest is that of the drama, an interest really felt in the fate of the characters; while the medium adopted is that of the masque, with its spectacular machinery, even if not in its regular and orthodox form. It follows that the dramatic interest is a clog on the scenic elaboration of the form, while the form is necessarily inadequate to the rendering of the content.

It is significant that in all the early editions the piece is merely styled 'A Maske Presented At Ludlow Castle'; the title of _Comus_ was first affixed by Warton. It was an obvious title for a critic to adopt; it is probably the last that the author would himself have thought of choosing. Had it been named contemporaneously, and after the fashion of the masques at court, the title of the _Triumph of Virtue_ could not but have suggested itself. This is indeed the very theme of the piece. Virtue in the person of the Lady, guarded by her brothers, watched over by the attendant Spirit, aided at need by the nymph Sabrina, triumphant over the blandishments and temptations of fancy and of sense in the persons of Comus and his followers; that is the subject of the masque. It is a subject finely and suitably conceived for spectacular illustration, and possesses a moral after Milton's own heart. The closing lines of the poem, already quoted, give admirable expression to the motive. Were the subject, on the other hand, to be treated dramatically, then the character of the Lady, virtue at grip with evil, was worthy to exercise--had; indeed, in varying forms long exercised--the highest dramatic genius. But in this direction lay, consciously or unconsciously, one of Milton's most evident limitations, and had he attempted to give full dramatic expression to the idea it is not improbable that the experiment would have resulted in undeniable failure. From such an attempt he was, however, debarred by the terms of his commission, which demanded not a drama, but a spectacular performance. Yet in spite of this Milton's conception of the piece is, as we have seen, essentially dramatic, and consequently in so far as the means prevented the due fulfilment of that conception in so far must the Lady necessarily fall short of the adequate realization of her high rôle. The action is too much abstracted, the characters too allegorical, to satisfy in us the dramatic expectations which they nevertheless call forth; while, on the other hand, they remain too concrete and individual to be adequately rendered by purely spectacular means.

These considerations have an important bearing upon the other objection which I ventured to bring forward, that of moralizing; for it cannot be argued, I imagine, that the direct expression of philosophical or ethical ideas is in any way illegitimate in the masque proper, any more than it is in the choric ode. But, as I have said, Milton--no doubt intentionally, though the point is irrelevant--has raised dramatic issues and dramatic emotions, and consequently by the laws of the drama, that is, by his success in satisfying those emotions, he must be judged. All speeches therefore introduced with a directly moral and philosophical rather than a dramatic end must be pronounced artistic solecisms. Whether Milton has been guilty of such undramatic interpolations, such lapses from the one end of art, may be left to the individual judgement of each reader to determine; for my own part I cannot conceive that any doubt should exist.

But even if we pass over what some readers will be inclined to dismiss as a mere theoretical objection, there are other charges which these same passages will have to meet. Those who have borne with me in my remarks on the _Aminta_ and the _Faithful Shepherdess_, will probably also agree with me here, when I say that to me at least there is something not altogether pleasing in Milton's presentment of virtue. I should add at once, that to place Milton's poem on an ethical level with either of the above-mentioned pieces would, of course, be preposterous. It is impossible to doubt the severe chastity of Milton's own ideal, and to compare it for one moment to the conventional _onestà_ which replaced virtue in Tasso's world, or with the nauseous unreality of the puppet Fletcher sought to enthrone in its place, would be to commit an uncritical outrage. Nevertheless, the expression Milton chose to give to his ideal cannot, therefore, lay claim to privilege. That expression had become intimately associated with pastoral convention, and he accepted it along with much else from his predecessors. I am not aware of any reason why spectators should have been prejudiced otherwise than in favour of the Lady Alice Egerton; but she is, nevertheless, careful to take the first opportunity of informing them, with much earnest protestation, of her quite remarkable purity and virtue, implying as it were a naïve surprise at having arrived unsullied at the perilous age of thirteen. The stilted affectation of this self-conscious innocence is perhaps less evident in the scene in which we should most readily look for it--that, namely, in which the Lady defends herself from the persuasions of the Sorcerer, where a certain fervour of feeling raises her utterances above a merely colourless level--than in the long soliloquy in which she indulges on first appearing on the stage. Something of the same disagreeable quality is present in the rather mawkish discussion between her two young brothers. Milton, who is entirely untouched, either with the levity of Tasso or the cynicism of Fletcher, was undoubtedly himself wholly unconscious that any such charge could be brought against his work. It is the direct outcome of a certain obtuseness, a curious want of delicacy, which in his later work results at times in passages of offensively bad taste[356]. As yet it is hardly responsible for anything worse than a confused conception in the poet's imagination. [Greek: Πάντα καθαρὰ τοῖς καθαροῖς], and the allegory is an old one whereby virtue appears as the tamer of the beasts of the wild. It is, however, to those alone who are innocent of evil that belongs the faery talisman. The virtue, knowing of itself and of the world, may be held a surer defence, but it is by comparison a gross and earthly buckler, with less of the glamour of romance reflected from its aegis-mirror. Somehow one feels instinctively that Una did not, on meeting with the lion, launch forth into a protestation of her chastity. Nothing, of course, would be easier than by means of a little judicious misrepresentation to cast ridicule upon the whole of Milton's conception of virtue in woman, and nowhere is it more needful than in such a case as the present to remember the fundamental maxim that bids one take the position one is attacking at its strongest. Nevertheless, putting aside for the moment all questions of art and all considerations of taste, there remains a question worthy of being fully and carefully stated, and of being honestly entertained. Milton has deliberately penned passages of smug self-conceit upon a subject whose delicacy he was apparently incapable of appreciating, and these passages he has placed, to be spoken in her own person, in the mouth of a child just passing into the first dawn of adolescence, thereby outraging at once the innocence of childhood and the reticence of youth. Is it possible to pretend that this is an action upon which moral censure has no word to say[357]?

It would hardly have been necessary to emphasize this point of view, or to dwell upon objections which, when one surrenders to the magic of the verse, can hardly appear other than carping, were it not for the somewhat injudicious and undiscriminating praise which it has been the fashion of a certain school of critics to lavish upon the piece. The exquisite quality of the verse may be readily conceded, as may also the nobleness of Milton's conception and the brilliance, within certain limits, of the execution; but when we are further challenged to admire the 'moral grandeur' of the figure in which virtue is honoured, there are some at least who will feel tempted to reply in the significant words: 'Methinks the lady doth protest too much!'

A word may be said finally as to the quality of the verse. I need not repeat that it is exquisite, that the music of it is like a full stream overflowing the rich pastures; what I am concerned to maintain is, that it is not for the most part of Milton's best. In the first place, what, for want of a better name, I have called Milton's moralizing is a blemish upon the poetic as it is upon the dramatic merits of the piece. The muse of poetry, like all her sisters, is not slow in avenging herself of a divided allegiance. By the cynical irony of fortune already noticed, where Milton would most impress us with his moral he becomes least poetical. There is, it is true, hardly a speech or a song which does not contain lines worthy to rank with any in the language, from the opening words:

Before the starry threshold of Joves Court,

to the final couplet:

Or if Virtue feeble were, Heav'n it self would stoop to her.

But there are passages in which these memorable lines appear as so much rich embroidery superimposed upon the baser fabric of the verse, not woven of the woof. They are in their nature more easily detached, and often form the best known and most often quoted passages of the work. Take the first speech of the Lady, concerning which something has already been said. Here we find the lines:

They left me then, when the gray-hooded Eev'n Like a sad Votarist in Palmer's weed Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain;

or again:

A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory Of calling shapes, and beckning shadows dire, And airy tongues, that syllable mens names On Sands, and Shoars, and desert Wildernesses;

or yet again:

Was I deceiv'd, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?

We have the song:

Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv'st unseen Within thy airy shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet imbroider'd vale Where the love-lorn Nightingale Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.

Such lines would justly render famous any passage in any poem in which they occurred. Nevertheless, remove them, which can be done without material injury to the sequence of the thought, and see whether in its warp and web the speech can for a moment stand comparison with that of Comus, to which it stands in direct and dramatic contraposition.

But this drawback is only incidental; through nine-tenths of the piece, perhaps, there is little or no moral preoccupation to disturb us. And here, though no doubt the poetic beauty reaches a climax in the song to Sabrina--a song for pure music certainly unsurpassed and probably unequalled by anything else that Milton ever wrote--there are others, such as 'By the rushy-fringed bank,' as well as less distinctively lyrical passages, which come within measurable distance even of its perfection. And yet, with certain noticeable exceptions, there are few passages in which comparison with Milton's later works will not reveal technical immaturity. This is no less true of the decasyllabic verse, when compared with the full sonority of _Lycidas_, than of the shorter measures. Take, for example, the invocation of Sabrina which follows the song previously quoted--the speech beginning:

Listen and appear to us In name of great Oceanus.

In spite of its very great beauty there is observable at the same time a certain monotony of cadence, and an occasional want of success in the attempts to relieve it, which place the passage distinctly below Milton's best. And yet it seems almost ungenerous to place Milton even below himself, particularly when in the very speech we are criticizing we are brought face to face with two such flawless lines as those on 'fair Ligea's golden comb',

Wherwith she sits on diamond rocks Sleeking her soft alluring locks--

lines which anticipate and rival the perfection of rhythmic modulation in _L'Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_[358].

III

There remains to inquire what influence of pastoral tradition is traceable in the wider field of the romantic drama, whether in individual scenes and characters, or more vaguely in general tone and sentiment; and, finally, to consider for a moment the critical expression given by writers of various dates to the sentimental philosophy of life which went under the name of pastoralism in fashionable circles.

The number of plays in which definite pastoral elements can be traced is surprisingly small, even when every allowance has been made for the fact that we have already included in our examination several pieces which come but doubtfully within the fold. The spirit of the romantic drama, instinct with sturdy life, had little in common with the artificial and unreal sentiment of a tradition which had almost ceased to pretend to a basis in the emotions of natural humanity. The result was, as might be expected, that when the drama introduced characters of a nominally pastoral type, they were either direct transcripts from actual life, deliberately ignoring conventional tradition, or else specifie borrowings from that tradition, introduced with full consciousness of its fashionable unreality, and using that unreality for a definite dramatic purpose. Thus, although the basis of pastoralism is found in non-traditional garb, and though pastoralism itself is found as the subject of dramatic treatment, yet, so far as the introduction of individual scenes and characters is concerned, it is seldom possible to say that pastoral has influenced the romantic drama in any sensible degree.

A certain number of plays, presumably of a more or less pastoral nature, have perished. Thus no trace remains of the _Lusus Pastorales_ licensed to Richard Jones in 1565, the nature of which can be only vaguely conjectured. The early date of the entry renders it important, and it is much to be regretted that the work should have perished, since it might have thrown very interesting light upon the condition of pastoralism in England previous to the appearance of the _Shepherd's Calender_. Most probably, however, the piece, whatever it may have been, was composed in Latin. We also have to lament the non-survival of a _Phillida and Corin_, which, we learn from the Revels' accounts, was acted by the Queen's men before the court, at Greenwich, on St. Stephen's day, 1584. This again would be an interesting piece to possess, since the title suggests a purely pastoral composition contemporary with Peele's mythological play. On February 28, 1592, Lord Strange's men performed a piece at the Rose, the title of which is given by Henslowe as 'clorys & orgasto,' presumably _Chloris and Ergasto_. It was an old play, probably dating from some years earlier. Whether 'a pastorall plesant Commedie of Robin Hood and little John,' entered to Edward White in the Stationers' Register, on May 14, 1594, could have justified its title may be questioned, but it is curious as suggesting an anticipation of Jonson's experiment. Again, on July 17, 1599, George Chapman received of Philip Henslowe forty shillings, in earnest of a 'Pastorall ending in a Tragydye,' which, however, was apparently never finished. Possibly our loss is not great, for Chapman's talents hardly lay in this line; but a tragical ending to a play of the pure pastoral type would have been something of a novelty, and the early date would also have lent it some interest. Yet another play known to us solely from Henslowe's accounts is the _Arcadian Virgin_, on which Chettle and Haughton were at work for the Admiral's men in December, 1599, and for which they received sums amounting in all to fifteen shillings. The title suggests that the play may have been founded on the story of Atalanta, but it was probably not completed. Ben Jonson's _May Lord_, which we know only through the notes left by Drummond of his conversations, was almost certainly not dramatic, though critics have always accepted it as such; but the same authority records that Jonson at the time of his visit to Hawthornden was contemplating a fisher-play, the scene to be laid on the shores of Loch Lomond. There is no evidence that the scheme ever reached a more mature stage. Finally, I may mention a play entitled _Alba_, a Latin pastoral, which incurred the royal displeasure when performed before James and his consort in the hall of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1605. The historian of the visit, quoted by Nichols, says that 'It was a pastoral, much like one which I have seen in King's College, Cambridge, but acted far worse.' The allusion is presumably to the Latin translation of the _Pastor fido_. The cause of offence was the appearance of 'five or six men almost naked,' who no doubt represented satyrs.

To what extent these plays were of a pastoral character must, of course, be matter of conjecture. They may have been pastoral plays of a more or less regular type, they may have been mythological dramas, or they may have been distinguished from the ordinary run of romantic compositions by a few incidental traits of pastoralism only. Not a few pieces of the latter description have been preserved, pieces in which definite traces of pastoral are to be found, but which cannot as a whole be included in the kind.

We have already had occasion to note the very slight pastoral influence which exists in the short masques or dialogues of Thomas Heywood, in spite of the opportunity afforded by their mythological character. The same may be noticed in the plays in which he drew his subject from classical legend. _Love's Mistress_ is the appropriate and attractive title of a dramatization of the last-born fancy of the mythopoeic spirit of Greece, Apuleius' tale of Cupid and Psyche. The early editions add to the title the further designation of 'The Queen's Masque.' The work is indeed a composite piece, a masque grown into a play through the accretion of foreign matter, and was probably in its original state a far simpler composition than it now appears. The writing is in a dainty vein, and had the piece been completed in a manner consonant with the simple and idyllic grace of the earlier scenes, it would have been no such unequal companion to Peele's _Arraignment of Paris_. What the play contains of pastoral belongs to one of the accretions. It is a rustic element in the interludes, satiric and farcical, supplied by a country clown, some shepherds, and 'a shee Swaine,' Amarillis. In his _Ages_ the pastoral element shrinks to an occasional dance and song. Thus in the _Golden Age_ the satyrs and nymphs sing a song in honour of Diana, which introduces the disguised Jupiter in his courtship of Calisto. In the _Silver Age_, again, the rape of Proserpine by Pluto is preluded by a song of 'a company of Swaines, and country Wenches' in honour of Ceres.

An unkind and quite worthless tradition, based on a manuscript note in an old copy, has connected Peele's name with the lengthy and tedious drama of _Sir Clyomon and Sir Clamydes_. It was admitted into the canon of Peele's works by Dyce, and though Mr. Bullen differed from his predecessor as to the justness of the ascription, he retained it in his edition. We find in it a coarse, dialect-speaking rustic, named Corin, who at one point succours Clyomon, and with whom Neronis, daughter of the King and Queen of the Strange Marshes, seeks service in the disguise of a boy. Apart from his name and the profession of shepherd he is a mere countryman, with nothing to connect him with pastoral tradition, though the princess' action finds, of course, abundant parallels therein. The _Old Wives' Tale_, printed as 'by G. P.,' and of which there is no reason to question Peele's authorship, connects itself with pastoral chiefly through the already mentioned parallel which it affords to _Comus_. It also anticipates, in a song of harvesters, the introduction of the 'sunburnt sicklemen' of the _Tempest_ masque.

At a later date we find Shirley in his _Love Tricks_ introducing two sisters who leave their home and, taking the disguise of shepherd and shepherdess, dwell among the country folk in the fields and pastures, whither they are followed by their lovers. There are passages which reveal a genuine pastoral tone, such as Shirley could readily adopt when it suited his purpose, and it is not only in the measure that the tradition reveals itself in such lines as:

A shepherd is a king whose throne Is a mossy mountain, on Whose top we sit, our crook in hand, Like a sceptre of command, Our subjects, sheep grazing below, Wanton, frisking to and fro. (IV. ii.)

Again, in the _Grateful Servant_ we have a show of 'Satyres pursuing Nymphes; they dance together. Exeunt Satyres; three Nymphes seem to intreat [Lodowick] to goe with them,' accompanied by a song of Silvanus.

Yet slighter traces of pastoral are to be occasionally found in other plays of the period. Thus in Brome's _Love-Sick Court_ the swains and nymphs are led in the dance by characters who have sought and found a cure for love among the country folk. In John Jones' _Adrasta_, the scene of which is laid at Florence, several of the characters disguise themselves in pastoral attire, and there is one definitely pastoral scene in which they appear in the midst of real shepherds and shepherdesses. The play was printed in 1635, and it is noticeable as containing, in the pastoral scene, satire on the Puritans resembling that introduced by Jonson in the _Sad Shepherd_. So again, similar disguisings, though of a less pronouncedly pastoral character, occur in the anonymous _Knave in Grain_, in which the scene is Venice. Satyrs and nymphs, clowns and maids, join in a song in Nashe's curious allegorical show entitled _Summer's Last Will and Testament_; nymphs and satyrs appear in the interludes of Dekker's _Old Fortunatus_; Silvanus, with nymphs and satyrs, perform a sort of interlude with song in the anonymous _Wily Beguiled_; and, lastly, we have the morris danced by the countrymen and wenches who accompany the jailor's daughter in the _Two Noble Kinsmen_.

* * * * *

The wider influence of tone and spirit is, in the nature of the case, far more difficult to determine. It is possible that some court-plays may show the influence of the artificial arrangement of characters and the conventional play of motives characteristic of the pastoral drama. But it is a matter of the greatest difficulty to analyse with certainty such structural peculiarities as these, still more so to assign them with confidence to their proper origin. Many characteristics which one might at first sight put down to the influence of the pastoral drama are, in reality, far more likely to be due to that of the comic stage of Italy in general. But while it would be rash to assert that the pastoral plays in this country exercised any wide influence over the regular drama, there can be no question such an influence was exercised to a very appreciable degree by pastoral poetry in general. I am not thinking of the romances at this moment, for as we have already seen it was the non-pastoral elements in the pastoral novel that exerted such influence as can be traced over the drama, but rather of the pastoral ideal and the pastoral mode in general, as expressed either in the lyric, the eclogue, or the drama. In this the drama shared an influence which was also exercised on other departments of literature. Numerous songs might be quoted from the scenes of the Elizabethan dramatists in support of this contention; while, on the other hand, we also find dramatic and descriptive passages the idyllic quality of which may not unreasonably be referred to a pastoral source.

This tendency of the drama to absorb pastoral elements rather from the lyric and the idyll than from regular plays in that kind is significant. It is the acknowledgement of an important fact, which pastoralism failed to recognize; namely, that as the expression of the pastoral idea gained in complexity of artistic structure it lost in vitality. The pastoral drama, born late in time, was the outcome of very especial circumstances, emphatically the child of its age, and little calculated to serve the artistic requirements of any other. Once the creative impulse that gave it life was withdrawn the falsity of the kind as a form of art became manifest; and though it lingered on for many years its life was but that of a fashionable toy, with little or no hold over the vital literature of its day. The popularity of the pastoral eclogue or idyll was of far longer duration. Though the form was more or less definitely conditioned, it had less of the structural rigidity of the drama, it brought its subject less into contact with the hard limitations of reality, and, which may also have been important, brought it less into comparison with other subject-matter employing the same or a closely analogous form. Thus it was better able to adapt itself to the tastes and requirements of various ages, and found favour in such vastly different societies as those for which Theocritus, Mantuan, Spenser, and Pope produced their works in this kind. Even here, however, the simple sensuous ideal was too much hampered by the ungenuine paraphernalia which the conventions of these various societies had gathered round it to take rank among the permanent and inevitable forms of literary art. This was granted to the lyric alone. It was through the lyric that the pastoral ideal and pastoral colouring most deeply penetrated and influenced existing forms; for the lyric, the freest and most unconditioned of all poetical kinds, the least tied to the circumstances and limitations of the actual world, was particularly fitted to extract the fragrance from the pastoral ideal without raising any unseasonable questions as to its rational or actual possibility.

It was a lover and his lass That o'er the green cornfield did pass--

this is the essential; and we ask no more if we are wise. The very essence, be it remembered, of the pastoral ideal is no more than 'love _in vacuo_.' And this the lyric alone can give us.

* * * * *

But there is one play which more than any other illustrates the nature of the influence exerted by pastoral tradition over the romantic drama and the relation subsisting between the two. This is _As You Like It_; for if in one sense Shakespeare was but following Lodge in the traditional blending of pastoral elements with those of court and chivalry, in another sense he has in this play revealed his opinion of, and passed judgement upon, the whole pastoral ideal. This must necessarily happen whenever a great creative artist adopts, for reasons of his own, and takes into his work any merely outward and formal convention. It was rarely that in his plays Shakespeare showed any inclination to connect himself even remotely with pastoral tradition. The _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ traces its origin, indeed, to the _Diana_ of Montemayor; but all vestige of pastoral colouring has vanished, and Shakespeare may even have been himself ignorant of the parentage of the story he treated. A more apparent element of pastoral found its way many years later into the _Winters Tale_; but it is characteristic of the shepherd scenes of that play, written in the full maturity of Shakespeare's genius, that, in spite of their origin in Greene's romance of _Pandosto_, they owe nothing of their treatment to pastoral tradition, nothing to convention, nothing to aught save life as it mirrored itself in the magic glass of the poet's imagination. They represent solely the idealization of Shakespeare's own observation, and in spite of the marvellous and subtle glamour of golden sunlight that overspreads the whole, we may yet recognize in them the consummation towards which many sketches of natural man and woman, as he found them in the English fields and lanes, seem in a less certain and conscious manner to be striving in plays of an earlier date. It was characteristic of Shakespeare, as it has been of other great artists, to introduce into his early writings incidental sketches which serve as studies for further work of a later period. In much the same manner the varied, but at times uncertain, melody of the early love comedies seems to aspire towards the full sonority and magic of lyric feeling and utterance in _Romeo and Juliet_.

Thus it is neither to the mellow autumn of his art, when he had cast aside as unworthy all the trivialities of convention, nor yet to the storm and stress of adolescence, the immaturity of pettiness and exaggeration, that we must look if we would discover Shakespeare's attitude towards pastoral tradition. _As You Like It_ belongs to his middle period. It will be remembered, from what has been said on an earlier page, that in this play Shakespeare substantially followed the story of Rosalind as narrated by Lodge, to whom we owe the introduction of a pastoral element into the old tale of Gamelyn. The pastoral characters of the play may be roughly analysed as follows. Celia and Rosalind, the latter disguised as a youth, are courtly characters; Phebe and Silvius represent the polished Arcadians of pastoral tradition; while Audrey and William combine the character of farcical rustics with the inimitable humanity which distinguishes Shakespeare's creations. It is noteworthy that this last pair is the dramatist's own addition to the cast. Thus we have all the various types--all the degrees or variations of idealization--brought side by side and co-existent in the fairyland of the poet's fancy. The details of the play are too well known for there to be any call to outrage the delicate interweaving of character and incident by translating the perfect scenes into clumsy prose. Nor would such analysis throw any light upon Shakespeare's attitude towards pastoral. That must be sought elsewhere. We may seek it in the fanciful mingling of ideals and idealizations--of courtly masking, of the conventional naturalism of polished dreamers, and of a rusticity more genuine at once and more sympathetic than that of Lorenzo, all of which act by their very natures as touchstones to one another. We may seek it in the uncertainty and hovering between belief and scepticism, earnest and play, reality and imagination--such as can only exist in art, or in life when life approaches to the condition of an art--which we find in the scenes where Orlando courts his mistress in the person of the youth who is but his mistress in disguise. We may seek it lastly in the manner in which the firm structure of the piece is fashioned of the non-pastoral elements; in the happiness of the art by which the pastoral incidents and business appear but as so much fair and graceful ornament upon this structure, bringing with them a smack of the free, rude, countryside, or a faint perfume of the polished Utopia of courtly makers. It is here that we may trace Shakespeare's appreciation of pastoral, as a delicate colouring, an old-world fragrance, a flower from wild hedgerows or cultured garden, a thing of grace and beauty, to be gathered, enjoyed, and forgotten, unsuited in its evanescent charm to be the serious business of art or life.

On this note, the realization at once of the delicate loveliness and of the unsubstantiality of the pastoral ideal, we may close our survey of its growth and blossoming in our dramatic literature, and before finally turning from the tradition which fascinated so many generations of European artists, pause for one moment to inquire of the critical expression it has received at the hands of more philosophical writers.

We have already seen how in the early days of modern pastoral composition Boccaccio, summing up the previous history of the kind, found in allegory and topical allusion its _raison d'être_. We have seen how in our own tongue Drayton expressed a similar view, and how Fletcher adopted in theory at least a more naturalistic position. This antagonism which runs through the whole of pastoral theory is really dependent upon two questions which have not always been clearly distinguished. There is, namely, the question of the allegorical or topical interpretation of the poems, and there is the question of the rusticity or at least simplicity of the form and language. It is possible to advocate the introduction of Boccaccio's 'nonnulli sensus' and yet demand that, whatever the esoteric interpretation of which the poem may be capable, the outward expression shall be appropriate to the apparent condition of the speakers; while on the other hand it is possible to confine the meaning to the evident and unsophisticated sense of the poem, while allowing such a degree of idealization in the language and sentiments of the characters as to differentiate them widely from the actual rustics of real life. The former of these positions is that assumed by Spenser in the _Shepherd's Calender_, however much he may have failed in logical consistency; the second is that which, in spite of much incidental matter of a topical nature, underlies Tasso's masterpiece in the kind. It is with the second of the above questions that critics have in the main been concerned. They have, namely, as a rule, tacitly though not explicitly recognized the fact that a poem whose value depends exclusively upon an esoteric interpretation has no meaning whatever as a work of art, while if artistic value can be assigned to the primary meaning of the work, it is a matter of indifference aesthetically whether there be an esoteric interpretation or not.

Every writer, I think, who comes within the limits of pastoral as usually understood, has found a certain idealization and a certain refinement necessary in bringing rustic swains into the domain of art. That any such process is inherently necessary to produce an artistic result there is no reason whatever to suppose; it may even be rationally questioned whether it is necessary to ensure the result falling within the recognizable field of pastoral; but neither of these considerations affects the historical fact. It is commonly admitted that among pastoral writers Theocritus adhered most closely to nature; yet no one has been found to describe him as a realist, whether in method or intention. But though this process of idealization is practically universal, few poets have confessed to it. Only occasionally an author, writing according to the demands of his age or of his individual taste, has been alive to what appeared to be a contradiction between his creations and what he mistook for the fundamental conditions of the kind in which he created. This was the case with Tasso, and he sought to reconcile the two by making Amore in the prologue declare:

Spirerò nobil sensi a' rozzi petti, Raddolcirò nelle lor lingue il suono, Perche, ovunque i' mi sia, io sono Amore, Ne' pastori non men, che negli eroi; E la disagguaglianza de' soggetti, Come a me piace, agguaglio.

This served, of course, no other purpose than to salve the author's artistic conscience, since it is perfectly evident that the polished civility of his characters belongs to them by nature, and is not in any way an external importation. The remark, however, is interesting in respect of the philosophy of love as a civilizing power, which we have seen constantly recurring from the days of Boccaccio onward. Ben Jonson expressed himself sharply on this subject, with respect to Guarini and Sidney, in his conversations with Drummond. 'That Guarini, in his Pastor Fido, keept not decorum, in making Shepherds speek as well as himself could.... That Sidney did not keep a decorum in making everyone speak as well as himself.'[359] The critical foundation of these censures in an _a priori_ definition of pastoral is obvious, and they are more interesting for their authorship than for their intrinsic merit. It would be curious to know how Jonson defended such a character as his Sad Shepherd--but his views had time to alter.

It is to the critics of the late years of the seventeenth century and early ones of the eighteenth that we owe the attempt to formulate a theory of pastoral composition. The attempt has not for us any great importance. All the work we have been considering had appeared, and the vast majority of it had passed into oblivion, before the French critics first engaged upon the task. Nor has the attempt much intrinsic interest. The theories of individual writers such as those already mentioned are of value, as showing the critical mood in which they themselves created; but these, and still more the theories of pure critics, are of no importance, either in the field of abstract critical theory or of historical inquiry. Fontenelle, offended at the odour of Theocritus' hines, Rapin, with his Jesuitical prudicity and ethico-literary theories of propriety, are not the kind of thinkers to advance critical and historical science. Yet it was to their school that the far greater English critics of the early eighteenth century belonged. Their work consists for the most part of various combinations of _a priori_ definition and arbitrary rules, based on the notion of propriety. Thus Pope in the _Discourse on Pastoral_, prefixed to his eclogues in 1717, writes: 'A pastoral is an imitation of the action of a shepherd, or one considered under that character.... If we would copy nature, it may be useful to take this idea along with us, that pastoral is an image of what they call the golden age. So that we are not to describe our shepherds as shepherds at this day really are, but as they may be conceived then to have been, when the best of men followed the employment.' Shallow formalism this; but what else was to be expected from Alexander Pope at the age of sixteen? His contemporaries, however, and successors down to Johnson, took his solemn vacuity in all seriousness. Steele, writing in the _Guardian_ in 1713 (Nos. 22, &c.), follows much the same lines. He speaks of 'Innocence, Simplicity, and whatever else has been laid down as distinguishing Marks of Pastoral.' Again, the reader is informed that 'Whoever can bear these'--namely, certain _concetti_ from Tasso and Guarini--'may be assured he hath no Taste for Pastoral.' We find the same pedantic and ignorant objections to Sannazzaro's piscatorials as were later advanced by Johnson: 'who can pardon him,' loftily queries the censor, 'for his Arbitrary Change of the sweet Manners and pleasing objects of the Country, for what in their own Nature are uncomfortable and dreadful?' An afternoon's idling along the cliffs of Sorento or the shore of Posilipo will supply a sufficient answer to such ignorant conceit as this. Lastly, in the same familiar strain, but with all the pompous weight of undisputed dictatorship, we find Dr. Johnson a generation later laying down in the _Rambler_ that a pastoral is 'a Poem in which any action or Passion is represented by its Effects upon a Country Life.... In Pastoral, as in other Writings, Chastity of sentiment ought doubtless to be observed, and Purity of Manners to be represented; not because the Poet is confined to the Images of the golden Age'--this is a rap at Pope--'but because, having the subject in his own Choice, he ought always to consult the Interest of Virtue.' The one fixed idea which runs throughout these criticisms is that pastoral in its nature somehow is, or should be, other than what it is in fact[360].

This is a view which very rightly meets with small mercy at the hands of the modern historical school of criticism. A last fragment of the hoary fallacy may be traced in Dr. Sommer's remark: 'Die Theorie des Hirtengedichtes ist kurz in folgenden Worten ausgedrückt: schlichte und ungekünstelte Darstellung des Hirtenlebens und wahre Naturschilderung.' It cannot be too emphatically laid down that there is and can be no such thing as a 'theory' of pastoral, or, indeed, of any other artistic form dependent, like it, upon what are merely accidental conditions.[361] As I started by pointing out at the beginning of this work, pastoral is not capable of definition by reference to any essential quality; whence it follows that any theory of pastoral is not a theory of pastoral as it exists, but as the critic imagines that it ought to exist. 'Everything is what it is, and not another thing,' and pastoral is what the writers of pastoral have made it.

It may be convenient before closing this chapter to summarize briefly the results of our inquiry into the history of pastoral tradition on the pre-restoration stage in England, without the elaboration of detail and the many necessary though minor distinctions unavoidable in the foregoing account. We saw, in the first place, that the idea of a literature dealing with the humours and romance of farm and sheepcot was not wholly alien to national English literature; but, on the contrary, that the shepherd plays of the religions cycles, the popular ballads, and a few of the Scots poets of the time of Henryson, all alike furnish verse which may be regarded as the index of the readiness of the popular mind to receive the introduction of a formal pastoral tradition. Next, preceding, as in Italy, the introduction or evolution of a regular pastoral drama, we find a series of mythological plays embodying incidentally elements of pastoral, written for the amusement of court circles, and founded on the _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid. In these the nature of the pastoral scenes appear to be conditioned, in so far as they are independent of their classical source, partly by the already existing eclogue, and partly perhaps by the native impulse mentioned above[362]. All this anticipates the rise of the pastoral drama proper. The foreign pastoral tradition reached England through three main channels. The earliest of these, the eclogue, was imitated by Spenser from Marot, who, while depending somewhat more closely, perhaps, than was usual upon the ancients, and adding to his work a certain original flavour, yet belonged essentially to the tradition of the allegorical pastoral which took its fashion from the works of Petrarch and Mantuan. The second, and for the English drama vastly the more important channel, was the pastoral-chivalric romance borrowed by Sidney from Montemayor, the great exponent of the Spanish school, which was, however, based upon the Italian work of Sannazzaro. The third was the Arcadian drama of the Ferrarese court, which was imitated, chiefly from Guarini, by Samuel Daniel. Thus, of the three forms, verse, prose, and drama, adopted by England from Italy, the first came by way of France, the second by way of Spain, while the third alone was taken direct[363]. These three blended with the pre-existing mythological play, and with the traditions of the romantic drama generally, to produce the pastoral drama of the English stage. The influence ot the eclogue was on the whole slight, but to it we may reasonably ascribe a share of the topical and allusive elements, when these do not appear assignable either to the Arcadian drama or to masque literature generally.[364] The influence of the mythological drama, again, is not of the first importance, and is also very restricted in its occurrence; the _Maid's Metamorphosis_ is the most striking example. The three main influences at work in fashioning the pastoral drama upon the English stage were, therefore, the Arcadian drama of Italy, the Sidneian romance borrowed from Spain, and the native tradition of the romantic drama.[365] But we have seen that the most important examples of dramatic pastoral in this country, though to some extent conditioned like the rest by the above-mentioned influences, were the outcome of direct and conscious experiment. In part, at least, the earliest, and by far the most simple, was the work of Samuel Daniel himself, which aimed at nothing beyond the mere transference of the Italian tradition unaltered on to the English stage. A different aim underlay the attempts alike of Fletcher and Randolph; the combination, namely, of the traditions of the Arcadian and romantic dramas. This common end they sought, however, by very diverse means. Fletcher, while adopting the machinery and methods of the popular drama, left the ideal and imaginary content practically untouched, and even chose a plot which in its structure resembled those familiar in the romantic drama even less than did Guarini's own. Randolph, on the other hand, while preserving much of the classical mechanism as he found it in Guarini, altered the whole tone and character of the piece to correspond to the greater complexity of interest, more genial humour, and more genuine romanticism of the English stage. Lastly, we found Jonson cutting himself almost entirely adrift from the tradition of Italian Arcadianism, and seeking to create an essentially national pastoral by the combination of shepherd lads and girls, transmuted from actuality by a natural process of refinement akin to that of Theocritus, with the magic and fairy lore of popular fancy, and with the characters of Robin and Marian and all the essentially English tradition of Sherwood. These three chief experiments in the production of an English pastoral drama which should rival that of Italy stand, together with Daniel's two plays, apart from the general run of pieces of the kind. It is also worth notice that they are all alike unaffected by the Sidneian romance. The remaining plays which form the great bulk of the contribution made by English drama to pastoral, and among which we must look for such dramatic pastoral tradition as existed, are almost all characterized by a more or less prevalent court atmosphere, disguisings and adventures in shepherd's garb forming the mainstay of the plot, while the genuine pastoral elements supply little beyond the background of the action.

Into the post-restoration pastorals it is no part of my present scheme to enter. They flourished for a while under the wing of the fashionable romance of France, but were almost more than their predecessors the things of artificial convention, having their form and being in a world whose only pre-occupations were the pangs and transports of sensibility. They occupy by right a small corner in the _Carte du Tendre_. Nor do I propose to do more than allude in passing to Allan Ramsay's _Gentle Shepherd_. In spite of the almost unvarying praise which has been lavished upon this 'Scots pastoral,' and even though the characters may have some points of humanity in common with actual Lothian rustics, the whole composition of the piece can scarcely be pronounced less artificial than that of the Arcadian drama itself, and the play has undoubtedly shared in the exaggerated esteem which has fallen to the lot of dialectal literature generally. The tradition lingered on throughout the eighteenth and into the nineteenth century. Goethe in his youth, while under the French influence, composed the _Laune des Verliebten_, and in his later days at Weimar the _Fischerin_, a piscatorial adapted for representation on an open-air stage, in which the interest was purely spectacular. As a general rule, however, pastoral inanity seldom strayed beyond the limits of the opera.

That the pastoral should flourish by the side of the romantic drama was not to be expected. It was impossible in England, as it was impossible in Spain. In either case it might now and again achieve a mild success at court, or under some exceptional conditions of representation; it never held the popular stage. No literature based on the accidents of a special form of civilization, or upon a set of artificially imagined conditions, can ever hope to outlive the civilization or the fashion that gave it birth. 'Love _in vacuo_' failed to arouse the interest of general mankind. Every literature of course wears the livery of its age, but where the body beneath is instinct with human life it can change its dress and pass unchanged itself from one order of things to another; where the livery is all, the form cannot a second time be galvanized into life. Pastoral, relying for its distinctive features upon the accidents rather than the essentials of life, failed to justify its pretentions as a serious and independent form of art. The trivial toy of a courtly coterie, it attempted to arrogate to itself the position of a philosophy, and in so doing exposed itself to the ridicule of succeeding ages. Men with a stern purpose in life turned wearily from the sickly amours of romantic poets who dreamed that human happiness found its place in the economy of the world. They left it to a rout of melodious idlers to imagine unto themselves a state in which serious importance should attach to the gracious things of sentiment and the loves of youth and maiden.

Addenda

Page 19.--Even apart from the evidence of the _Bucolica Quirinalium_, it is, of course, clear that Vergil's eclogues were familiar to the writers of the early middle ages. How far their interest in them was literary, and how far, like that of the mystery-writers, it was theological, may, however, be questioned. It is worth noticing in this connexion that a German translation was projected by no less a person than Notker, and since they are coupled by him with the _Andria_, we may reasonably infer that in this case at least the writer's concern, if not distinctively literary, was at any rate educational. (See W. P. Ker, _The Dark Ages_, p. 317.)

Page 112, note 2.--There is an error here. _The Passionate Pilgrim_ version of 'As it fell upon a day' does not contain the couplet found in _England's Helicon_. I was misled by its being supplied from the latter by the Cambridge editors. Another poem of the same description appears in Francis Sabie's _Pan's Pipe_. (See Sidney Lee's introduction to the Oxford Press facsimile of the _Passionate Pilgrim_, p. 31.)

Page 204.--It is perhaps hardly surprising to find Tasso's 'S' ei piace, ei lice' quoted by English writers as summing up the cynical philosophy of those whom they not unaptly styled 'politicians.' In Marston's tragedy on the story of Sophonisba, for instance, the villain Syphax concludes a 'Machiavellian' speech with the words:

For we hold firm, that 's lawful which doth please. (_Wonder of Women_, IV. i. 191.)

Appendix I

On the Origin and Development of the Italian Pastoral Drama

The chapter in the history of Italian literature which shall deal with the evolution of the Arcadian drama still remains to be written. The treatment of it in Symonds' _Renaissance_ is decidedly inadequate, and even as far as it goes not altogether satisfactory. The explanation of this is, that the most important works fall outside his period; the _Aminta_ and the _Pastor fido_ are admirably treated in the volumes dealing with the counter-reformation, but these are of the nature of an appendix, and formed no part of his original plan. Tiraboschi's account is also meagre. A long discussion of the subject will be found in the fifth volume of J. L. Klein's _Geschichte des Dramas_ (Leipzig, 1867), but the bewildering irrelevancy of much of the matter introduced by that eccentric writer seriously impairs the critical value of his work. An excellent sketch of the early history as far as Beccari, with full references, is given in Vittorio Rossi's valuable monograph, _Battista Guarini ed il Pastor Fido_ (Torino, 1886), pt. ii. ch. i. This has the immense advantage of conciseness, and of a clear and scholarly style. An important review of Rossi's book, concerning itself particularly with the chapter in question, appeared in the _Literaturblatt für germanische und romanische Philologie_ for 1891 (col. 376), from the pen of A. L. Stiefel, who incidentally announced that he was himself engaged on a comprehensive history of the pastoral drama. Of this work I have been unable to obtain any further information. Next an elaborate essay by the veteran Giosuè Carducci, largely combatting Rossi's conclusions as to the literary evolution of the form, and bringing forward a good deal of fresh evidence, appeared in the _Nuova Antologia_ for September, 1894, and was reprinted with additions and corrections as the second of three papers in the author's pamphlet _Su l'Aminta di T. Tasso_ (Firenze, 1896). To this Rossi rejoined, effectively as it seems to me, in the _Giornale storico della letteratura italiana_ (1898, xxxi. p. 108). The treatment in W. Creizenach's _Geschichte des neueren Dramas_ (Halle, 1901, ii. p. 359) is unfortunately not yet complete.

The theory of development which I have adopted is substantially that elaborated by Rossi. To him belongs the honour of having been the first clearly to indicate the historical steps by which the eclogue passes into the drama. The idea, however, was not original; it underlies the accounts given by Egidio Menagio in the notes to his edition of the _Aminta_ (Paris, 1655), by G. Fontanini (_Aminta difeso_, Roma, 1700, and Venezia, 1730), by P. L. Ginguené (_Histoire littéraire d'Italie,_ vol. vi, Paris, 1813), and by Klein. It was also virtually accepted by Stiefel in his review of Rossi, since he confined his criticism to pointing out and attempting to fill occasional gaps in the sequence of development, and to insisting on the influence of the regular drama, and more particularly of the Intronati comedy. The incomplete state of Creizenach's work, and the caution with which he expresses himself on the subject, preclude our reckoning him among the declared supporters of the theory; but there can be little doubt, I think, as to the tendency of his remarks. This may then be regarded as the orthodox view. It has not, however, received the exclusive adherence of scholars, and it may therefore be thought right that I should both give in detail the arguments by which it is supported and my reasons for accepting it, and likewise state the grounds on which I reject the rival theories that have been propounded.

Two of these latter may be quickly dismissed. These are the views put forward respectively by Gustav Weinberg, _Das französische Schäferspiel in der ersten Hälfte des XVIIten Jahrhunderts_ (Frankfurt, 1884), and by J. G. Schönherr in his _Jorge de Montemayor_ (Halle, 1886). Weinberg finds the origin of the Italian pastoral drama in the 'Éclogas' of Juan del Encina. With regard to this theory it may be sufficient to observe that, at the time Encina wrote, the _ecloga rappresentativa_, or dramatic eclogue, was already familiar in the Italian courts, and that, so far from his writings being the source of any pastoral tradition even in his own country, what subsequent dramatic work of the kind is to be found in Spain merely represents a further borrowing from Italy. Schönherr, on the other hand, regards the _Jus Robins et Marion_ as the source of the Arcadian drama. Not only, however, did Adan de le Hale's play fail to originale any dramatic tradition in its own country, but it is itself nothing but an amplified _pastourelle_, a form which, in spite of marked Provençal influence, never obtained to any extent in Italy. It need hardly be said that there is not a vestige of historical evidence to support either of these theories[366].

It is different with the theory advanced by Carducci in the essay already mentioned. The reputation of the great Italian critic would alone entitle any view he advanced to the most respectful consideration. In the present case, however, there is more than this, for his essay is a monument of deep and loving scholarship, and whether we agree or not with its conclusions, it adds greatly to our knowledge of the subject. Briefly and baldly stated, his contention is as follows. The Arcadian drama was a creation of the literary and courtly circles of Ferrara, and so far as Italy is concerned the precursors of the _Aminta_ are to be sought in Beccari's _Sacrifizio_ and Giraldi Cintio's _Egle_ alone, with a connecting link as it were supplied by the pastoral fragment of the latter author, first printed as an appendix to the essay in question. Beyond these compositions no influence can be traced, except that of a study of the classics in general, and of Theocritus in particular. It is certainly remarkable that the important texts mentioned above, as well as Argenti's _Sfortunato_ and the _Aminta_ itself, should all alike have been written for and produced at the court of the Estensi at Ferrara. The selection, however, I regard as somewhat arbitrary. The _Egle_ appears to lie entirely off the road of pastoral development, and I cannot help thinking that Carducci falls into the not unnatural error of exaggerating the importance of the interesting document he was the first to publish. The primitive dramatic eclogue was not altogether unknown at Ferrara, nor do the pastoral shows elsewhere appear to have been always as remote from the courtly grace of the Arcadian tradition as the critic is at pains to demonstrate. In view therefore of the practically unbroken line of formal development, and the consistency of artistic aim observable from Sannazzaro in the last quarter of the fifteenth to Guarini in the last quarter of the sixteenth century, I find it impossible to accept Carducci's conclusions.

The advocates of the orthodox theory, however, must be prepared to meet and combat the objections which Carducci has raised, and which, in his opinion, necessitate the adoption of a different explanation. The evolution of the pastoral drama from the eclogue he declares to be impossible, in the first place, on historical grounds. This objection relates to the evidence as to a continuous development traceable in the accessible texts, and to it the account given in the following pages will--or will not--be found a sufficient answer. In the second place, he declares it to be impossible on aesthetic grounds. These are three in number, and may be briefly considered here. (_a_) 'Idealization cannot develop out of caricature.' Here, I presume, he is using 'caricature' in its technical sense of what Aristotle calls 'imitation worse than nature,' not merely for the resuit of an inadequate command over the medium of artistic μίμησις. The remark, therefore, can only apply to the 'rustic' productions. But, as Aristotle's phrase suggests, burlesque, or caricature, is only idealization in a different direction, so that there appears to be less antagonism between the two tendencies than might at first be supposed. Moreover, no one has suggested that the rustic shows were the origin of the Arcadian drama, so that it is to be presumed that Carducci had in mind the more or less frequent but still sporadic elements borrowed by the eclogues from the popular drama. These, however, are found in conjunction with idealized elements of courtly tradition, both in the dramatic eclogues themselves and more especially in the _ecloghe maggiaiuole_ or May-day shows of the Congrega dei Rozzi. Thus, although it is true that we should not expect idealization to be evolved out of caricature, there is no reason to deny its evolution from a form in which burlesque and romance subsisted side by side. (_b_) 'Those eclogues that are not burlesque are occasional compositions equally incapable of developing into the Arcadian drama.' Though, no doubt, usually written for presentation upon some particular occasion, several of the dramatic eclogues present no topical features. Nor does it appear why a form of composition, the type of which was fairly constant although the individual examples might be ephemeral enough, should not develop into something of a more permanent nature. Moreover, the topical allusions scattered throughout the _Aminta_, as well as the highly occasional character of the prologue to the _Pastor fido_, serve to connect these plays directly with the 'occasional' eclogue. (_c_) The metrical form of the recognized dramatic pastorals differs from that of the eclogues.' While beginning, however, with simple _terza_ or _ottava rima_, the dramatic eclogue gradually became highly polymetric in structure, though it is true that it seldom affected the free measures peculiar to the Arcadian drama. These, however, were no more suited to short compositions than the stiff terzines and octaves to more complicated dramatic works. The prevalent metre, as indeed many other points, might well be borrowed by the dramatic pastoral from the practice of the regular stage without it thereby ceasing to be the formal descendant of the eclogue.

Another point in debate is the view taken of the question by contemporary critics--that is, by Guarini and his adversaries. Rossi pointed out a passage in Guarini's _Veraio_ of 1588[367] which he held to support his theory of development. Translated, the passage runs: 'And why should it not be thought lawful for the eclogue to grow out of its infancy and arrive at mature years, if this has been possible in the case of tragedy? ... Even as the Muses grafted tragedy upon the dithyrambic stock, and comedy upon the phallic, so in their ever-fertile garden they set the eclogue as a tiny cutting, whence sprang in later years the stately growth of the pastoral,' that is, of the _favola di pastori_, or dramatic pastoral, as he elsewhere explains. 'But in thèse words,' objects Carducci, 'the writer is in no way referring to the Italian eclogues of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The eclogue had passed out of its infancy in the work of Theocritus.' Here, however, Carducci appears to me to misinterpret Guarini's meaning in an almost perverse manner. The metaphoric 'infancy' of which Guarini speaks is the pre-dramatic period of pastoral growth. No one will deny that the Theocritean idyl had attained full and perfect development in its own kind; but from the dramatic point of view, and granted that it contained the germ of the later pastoral drama, it belonged to a period of infancy, or, to adopt a more strictly accurate metaphor, of gestation. Were further evidence needed to show that the allusion is to the Italian rather than to the classical eclogue, it might be found in the fact that the passage in question was Guarini's answer to the following criticism of De Nores, as to the meaning of which there can be no two opinions. Attacking the pastoral tragi-comedy, the critic remarks: 'Until the other day similar compositions were represented under the name of eclogues at festivals and banquets, ... but now of a sudden they have been fashioned of the extension of comedies and tragedies in five acts[368].' It will be noticed that in his reply Guarini makes no attempt to question the underlying identity of the pastoral tragi-comedy with the dramatic eclogue, but contents himself with very justly asserting the right of the latter to develop into a mature literary form. Two other passages from Guarini have been quoted as germane to the discussion. They occur in the _Verato secondo_, written as a counterblast to De Nores' _Apologia_,[369]. One may be rendered thus: 'Although the dramatic pastoral, in respect of the characters introduced, recognizes its ultimate origin in the eclogue and in the satire [i. e. the satyric drama] of the ancients, nevertheless, in respect of its form and ordinance it may be said to be a modern kind of poetry, seeing that no example of such dramatic composition, whether Greek or Latin, is to be found in ancient times.' The other runs: 'having regard to the fact that Theocritus stepped beyond the number of persons usual in similar poems, and composed one [the _Feast of Adonis_] which not only contains many interlocutors, but is of a more dramatic character than usual, and remarkable also for its greater length; it seemed to him [Beccari] that he might with great honour supply that kind neglected by the Greek and Latin authors[370].' In the former of these passages Guarini, while recognizing the community of subject-matter between the classical eclogue and the renaissance pastoral drama, claims that as an artistic form the latter is independent of the former. Nor is this inconsistent with what he says in the subsequent passage, for it is perfectly true that it was with Beccari that the pastoral first attained its full complexity of dramatic structure, and his allusion to Theocritus means, not that he regarded him as the father of the form, but that, after the manner of a _cinquecento_ critic, he is seeking for authority at least among the ancients where direct precedent is not to be found. His reference to the evolution of classical tragedy and comedy in the passage cited from his first essay shows clearly that he had in mind a process of gradual and natural development, not one of definite borrowing or artificial creation.

It appears to me, therefore, that Carducci has erred in not taking a sufficiently broad view of the lines on which literary development proceeds; and also, more specifically, in failing to recognize the importance of the distinction between the ordinary and the dramatic eclogue. This distinction, though on the scanty evidence extant it is extremely hard to draw it with any degree of certainty, appears to me a vital point in the history of the species. The value of Carducci's work lies in his insistence on the influence of the regular drama, to which, perhaps on account of its very obviousness, Rossi had failed to attach sufficient importance; in his directing attention to the local Ferrarese tradition; in the admirable energy and patience with which he has collected all available evidence; and in his reprinting the interesting pastoral fragment of Giraldi Cintio. For these he deserves the warmest thanks of all students of Italian literature; for my own part I need only refer the reader to the footnotes to the following pages as indicating in some measure the extent of my indebtedness[371].

The theatrical tendency first exhibited itself in the mere recitation of a dialogue in character, and the earliest examples of these _ecloghe rappresentative_ are identical in form with those written merely for literary circulation. For the dates of these external evidence unfortunately fails us almost entirely, but a fairly well-marked sequence may be established on the grounds of internal development. Roughly, they must fall within a few years of the close of the fifteenth century, say between 1480 and 1510. They are commonly of an allegorical nature, containing allusions to real persons, and are for the most part composed in _terza rima_, diversified in the more complex examples by the introduction of octaves and lyrical measures[372]. Of this primitive form is a poem by the Genoese Baldassare Taccone, bearing the superscription 'Ecloga pastorale rapresentata nel Convivio dell' III. Sig'r. Io. Adorno, nella quale si celebra l' amor del Co. di Cayace [Francesco Sanseverino] e di M. Chiara di Marino nuncupata la Castagnini[373].' This piece, in which the characters represent real persons, is a mere dialogue without any semblance of action. Aminta questions his fellow-shepherd Fileno as to the cause of his melancholy, and learns that it arises from his hopeless passion for a certain cruel nymph. His offer to undertake his friend's cure is met with the declaration, that of the two death were preferable. Similar in simplicity of construction is another poem, the work of Serafino Aquilano, which deals with the corruption of the Church, and was performed at Rome during the carnival of 1490[374]. An advance in dramatization is made by an eclogue of Galeotto Del Carretto's, written in 1492, in honour of the newly elected Alexander VI, in that one character enters upon the scene after the other has been discoursing for some time; while another, the work of Gualtiero Sanvitale, contains three speakers, of whom one enters towards the close, and is called upon to decide between the other two. This arbiter is none other than Lodovico Sforza himself[375]. So far the eclogues have all been in Sannazzaro's _terza rima_. A wider range of metrical effect, including not only terzines both _sdrucciole_ and _piane_, but also hendecasyllables with internal rime and a _canzone_, and at the same time a more dramatic treatment, is found in another eclogue of Aquilano's[376]. In this Palemone sends his herdsman Silvano to inspect his flocks after a stormy night. The herdsman meets Ircano in a melancholy mood, who when questioned endeavours to hide the nature of his grief by feigning that he has lost his flock in the storm. At that moment, however, the real cause of his sorrow enters in the shape of a nymph, and Ircano leaves Silvano in order to follow her with prayers and supplications. Silvano endeavours to dissuade him from his love, but meets with the usual want of success. In the case of this piece, as also of the two preceding ones, we have no direct evidence of any representation, but all three, and especially the last, have the appearance of being composed for recitation. Another piece, exhibiting an advance in complexity of dramatic structure, is an 'ecloga overo pasturale,' a disputation on love by Bernardo Bellincioni[377], apparently in some way connected with Genoa, in the course of which five characters, probably representing actual personages, though we lack external evidence, forgather upon the stage. The versification again exhibits novel features, the piece being for the most part in _ottava rima_ with the introduction of _settenarî_ couplets. In the former we may perhaps see the influence of the _Orfeo_, or possibly of the old _sacre rappresentationi_ themselves. In 1506 the court of Urbino witnessed the eclogue composed and recited by Baldassare Castiglione and Cesare Gonzaga[378]. It also belongs to the octave group, and is diversified with a canzonet. Dramatically the piece is somewhat of a retrogression, but it is interesting from the characters introduced in pastoral guise. Thus in Iola and Dameta we may see Castiglione and his fellow author; Tirsi, who gives his name to the poem, is a stranger shepherd attracted by reports of the court; while among the characters mentioned are discernible Bembo and the Duchess Elizabeth. At this point may be mentioned a somewhat similar eclogue found in a Spanish romance of about 1512, entitled _Cuestion de amor_, descriptive of the Hispano-Neapolitan society of the time. The eclogue, which is clearly modelled on the Italian examples, contains five characters, and is supposed to represent the love affairs of real personages[379]. Two so-called 'commedie pastorali,' from which Stiefel hoped for useful evidence, prove on inspection to be medleys of pastoral amours exhibiting little advance in dramatization, though interesting as showing traces of the influence of the not yet fully developed 'rustic' eclogue. They are composed throughout in _terza rima_ without any division into acts or scenes, and are the work of one Alessandro Caperano of Faenza, thus hailing, like the later _Amaranta_, from the Romagna[380]. In 1517 we find a fantastic pastoral entitled _Pulicane,_ written in octaves by Piero Antonio Legacci dello Stricca, a Sienese, who was also the author of several rustic pieces, in which is introduced a monster half dog and half man. Another work by the same, again in octaves, and entitled _Cicro_, appeared in 1538. Another piece mentioned by Stiefel as likely to throw light on the development of the dramatic pastoral is the 'Ecloga di amicizia' of Bastiano di Francesco, or Bastiano 'the flax-dresser'(_linaiuolo_), also of Siena, which was first printed in 1523. It turns out, however, to be a decidedly primitive composition in _terza rima_, with a certain slightly satirical colouring[381].

If the texts that have survived are somewhat scanty, there is good reason to believe that they form but a small portion of the eclogues actually represented at the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the sixteenth centuries. Thus we find a show, of the nature of which it is not altogether easy to judge, recorded in a letter by a certain Floriano Dulfo, written from Bologna in July, 1496[382]. It appears to have been a composition of some length, pastoral only in part, supernatural in others, but belonging on the whole rather to the cycle of chivalresque romance than of classical mythology. In Act I an astrologer announces the birth of a giant, who in Act II is represented as persecuting the shepherds. Acts III and IV are occupied by various complaints on his account In Act V, called by Dulfo 'la ultima comedia, overo egloga,' the giant carries off a nymph while she is gathering flowers; the shepherds, however, come to her rescue and restore her to her lover. This incident, reminiscent possibly of the rape of Proserpine, tends to connect the piece with the mythological tradition. So far as can be gathered, the verse appears to have been _ottava rima_ with the introduction of lyrical passages. Again, we know that the representation of eclogues formed part of the festivities at the marriage of Lucrezia Borgia with Giovanni Sforza in 1493, and again in 1502, when she espoused Alfonzo d' Este. In 1508 the carnival shows at Ferrara included three eclogues, the work respectively of Ercolo Pio, Antonio dall' Ongano. and Antonio Tebaldeo[383]. At Venice we have note of similar performances, and even find _ecloghe_ mentioned among the forms of dramatic spectacle recognized by the laws of the state. I may also call attention in this connexion, and as illustrating the habituai introduction of acted eclogues in all forms of festival, to the occurrence of such a performance in a chivalrous romance by Cassio da Narni, entitled _La morte del Danese_[384]. The piece is, however, of the most primitive form, and must not be taken as typical of its date, just as the masques introduced into the plays of the Elizabethan drama are commonly of a far simpler order than actually represented at court. It may also not improbably have been influenced by the more popular form of rustic shows, as its description as a 'festa in atti rusticali' would seem to indicate.

Meanwhile the rustic eclogue was developing upon lines of its own, though rather in arrear of the courtly variety. In 1508 we find a piece in _terza rima_, exhibiting traces of Paduan dialect, composed or transcribed by one Cesare Nappi of Bologna, in which no less than fourteen 'villani' appear with their sweethearts to honour the feast of San Pancrazio[385]. Eating and dancing form the mainstay of the composition, and since the female characters are described but do not speak, it may be questioned whether the piece was intended for representation. Not till five years later have we any evidence of a rustic eclogue forming part of an actual show. In 1513, Giuliano de' Medici was at Rome, and in the entertainment provided at the Capitol on the occasion of his receiving the freedom of the city was included an eclogue by a certain 'Blosio,' otherwise Biagio Pallai delia Sabina, of the Roman Academy. The argument alone has come down to us. A rustic, who has first suffered at the hands of the foreign soldiers then overrunning Italy, and has afterwards been plundered by the sharper citizens of Rome, meets a friend with whom it has fared similarly, and the two determine to seek justice of the Conservators, as a last chance before retiring to live among the Turks, since a man may not abide in peace in a Christian land. They find the Capitol _en fête_, and the piece ends with a song in praise of Giuliano and Leo X[386]. Of the same year is the 'Egloga pastorale di Justitia,' the earliest extant specimen of the rustic dramatic eclogue proper. It is a satirical piece concerning a countryman, who fails to obtain justice because he is poor. He at last appeals to the king himself, but is again repulsed because he is accompanied by Truth in place of Adulation[387]. This form of composition, recalling as it does the allegories of Langland and other satirists of the middle ages, differs widely from that usually found in the courtly eclogues, nor is it typical of rustic representations. Again, to the same year, 1513, belongs an eclogue in rustic speech and Bellunese dialect, by Bartolommeo Cavassico, which like the Roman show turns upon the horrors of the war which had been devastating the country since 1508. Recollections of the 'tagliata di Cadore[388]' blend incongruously with fauns, nymphs, bears, pelicans, and wild men of the woods, to form a whole which appears to be of a decidedly burlesque character. The distribution, however, of these rustic eclogues never appears to have been very wide, and in later times they were chiefly confined to the representations of the famous Congrega dei Rozzi at Siena, though the activity of this society extended, it is true, far beyond the limits of its Tuscan home. Most of these representations, at any rate in the earlier years with which we are concerned, were short realistic farces of low life composed in dialectal verse. Some of the cleverest are by Francesco Berni, better known for his obscene _capitoli_ and his _rifacimento_ of Boiardo's _Orlando_, and appeared between 1537 and 1567; while in later days the kind attained its highest perfection in the work of Michelangelo Buonarroti the younger, whose _Tancia_ originally appeared in 1612[389].

It may be questioned to what extent these rustic shows influenced the development of the pastoral eclogue. Their recognition as a dramatic form was subsequent to that of the _ecloga rappresentativa_, and no element traceable to their influence can be shown to exist in the dramatic pastoral as finally evolved. On the other hand, we do undoubtedly meet with incidents and characters in the courtly shows which appear to belong to the style of the popular burlesque. A point of contact between the two traditions may be found in the _commedie maggiaiuole_, a sort of May-day shows also represented by the Rozzi, but of a more idealized character than the rustic drama proper. They may, indeed, be regarded as to some extent at least a parody of the two kinds--the courtly and the popular pastoral--since by combining the two each was made the foil and criticism of the other. Nymphs and shepherds appear as in the pastoral eclogues, but their loves are interrupted by the incursion of boisterous rustics, who substitute the unchastened instincts and brute force of half-savage boors for the delicate wooing and sentimentality of their rivals.

* * * * *

We return to the development of the dramatic eclogue in a work of some importance as marking an advance both in dramatic construction and versification. _I due pellegrini[390]_, written not later than 1528, when the author, Luigi Tansillo, was a youth of sixteen or seventeen, was doubtless produced on some occasion before the court of the Orsini, at Nola, near Naples. It was revived with great pomp ten years later at Messina, when Don Garcia de Toledo, commander of the Neapolitan fleet, entertained Antonia Cardona, daughter of the Count of Colisano, for whose hand he was a suitor[391]. Two shepherds, pilgrims of love, bereft of the objects of their affection, the one through death, the other through inconstancy, meet in a forest and reason of the comparative hardness of their lots. Unable to decide the question, they each resolve to bear the strongest possible witness to the depth of their affliction by putting an end to their lives. At this moment, however, the voice of the dead mistress is heard from a neighbouring tree, persuading them to relinquish their intentions, reconciling them once more with the world and life, and directing them to join the festivities in the city of Nola. Here for the first time we meet with a pastoral composition of some length pretending to a dramatic solution, and contrasting with the stationary character of most of the eclogues we have been examining in that the change of purpose among the actors constitutes a sort of περιπέτεια, or _rivolgimento_. The piece is likewise important from a metrical point of view, since it not only contains a free intermixture of _ottava_ and _terza rima_, and hendecasyllables with _rimalmezzo_, a favourite verse form in certain kinds of composition[392], but likewise foreshadows, in its mingling of freely riming hendecasyllables with _settenarî_, the peculiar measures of the pastoral drama proper. _I due pellegrini_ was not, however, an altogether original composition. In 1525 had appeared a work by the Neapolitan Marco Antonio Epicuro de' Marsi, styled in the original edition 'dialogo di tre ciechi,' and in later reprints 'tragi-commedia intitulata _Cecaria_[393].' In this three blind men, one blind with love, another with jealousy, the third with gazing too intently on the sun-like beauty of his mistress, meet and determine to die together. They fall in, however, with a priest of Amor, who sends them back to their respective loves to be cured. It was this theme that Tansillo arranged in pastoral form, borrowing even the metres of the original, but it was just the element which justifies our including it here that he added, and it is useless to seek in Epicuro's work the origin of the form with which it was thus only accidentally associated.

A composition of some importance, dating from a period about two years later than Tansillo's piece, is an 'ecloga pastorale' by the 'mestissimo giovane' Luca di Lorenzo of Siena.[394] Two nymphs, by name Euridice and Diversa, respectively seek and shun the delights of love. They meet a _citto_--that is a _bambino_ in Sienese dialect--who proves to be none other than Cupid himself, and rewards them according to their deserts, Euridice obtaining the love of the courtly shepherd Orindio, while Diversa is condemned to follow the rude and loveless Fantasia. The piece is written in a mixture of _ottava_ and _terza rima_, with a variety of lyrics introduced. The contrast between the loving and the careless nymphs, and the episode of the latter being bound to a tree, appear to anticipate the later pastoral; while the introduction of Cupid as a dramatis persona carries one back to the mythological drama, and the rustic characters connect the piece with the plays of the Rozzi. Another composition of Tuscan origin is the _Lilia_, first printed in 1538, and composed throughout in polished octaves.[395] It merely relates how the shepherd Fileno courted the fair Lilia, a certain rustic element being introduced in the persons of the herdsmen Crotolo and Tirso.

With the _Amaranta_ of Casalio we have been sufficiently concerned in the text (p. 172). It was printed at Venice in 1538,[396] having probably been written some years earlier. It is composed in _ottava_ and _terza rima_, with the introduction of a canzonet, and marks an important advance on previous work, not only in the nature of the plot, but in being divided into acts and scenes. Sixteen years elapsed between the publication of _Amaranta_ and the appearance of the regular pastoral drama in Beccari's _Sacrifizio_. Some time ago Stiefel pointed out a considerable hiatus at this point in Rossi's account, and mentioned certain works which might be expected to fill it. These and others have since been examined by Carducci, with the result that it is possible, at least partially, to bridge the gap. The period proves to be one less of gradual evolution than of conscious experiment. At least this is how I read the available evidence.

Besides the _Cecaria_, mentioned above, Epicuro de' Marsi also left a manuscript play entitled _Mirzia_, which he describes as a 'favola boschereccia,' being thus the first to make use of the term later adopted by Tasso.[397] The piece, which was written some ten years before the author's death in 1555, leads us off into one of the numerous by-paths into which the pastorals of this period were for ever wandering. Two despised lovers, together with their friend Ottimo, witness unseen the dances of Diana and the nymphs, on which occasion Ottimo falls in love with the goddess herself. After passing through various plights, into which they are led by their love of the careless nymphs, they all have recourse to an oracle, whose predictions are fulfilled through a series of violent metamorphoses. This mixture of mythology and magic is wholly foreign to the spirit of the Arcadian drama, and the _Mirzia_ cannot any more than the _Cecaria_ be regarded as the progenitor of that form. I may mention incidentally that among the characters is a good-natured satyr, who consoles Ottimo in his hopeless passion for Diana.

Another attempt at mingling the pastoral with the mythological drama, and one which likewise exhibits a tendency to borrow from the rustic compositions, is the Florentine 'commedia pastorale' first printed in 1545 under the title of _Silvia_.[398] The author calls himself Fileno Addiacciato, from which it would appear that he was a member of the pastoral academy of the Addiaccio, founded at Prato in 1539 by Agnolo Firenzuola. The prologue relates how the first _archimandrita_ of the academy, the title assumed by the president, here called Silvano, was driven out by his followers because of certain innovations he made, 'Alzando i Rozzi e deprimendo i buoni.' This would seem to imply that the head of the Addiacciati was expelled for evincing too particular an interest in the Sienese society, a piece of literary gossip fairly borne out by the little we know of the events which led up to Firenzuola's departure from Prato. The prologue, indeed, speaks of Silvano as already dead, which would appear to necessitate the placing of Firenzuola's death earlier by three years than the accepted date. The inference, however, is not necessary, since the expelled president might in his pastoral character be represented as dead though still alive in the flesh. The play itself, which is in five acts, and contains characters alike Olympian, Arcadian, and rustic, besides a hermit and a slave, is composed in a variety of metres--_terza rima_, octaves both _sdrucciole_ and _piane_, and in the style alike of Poliziano and Lorenzo, hendecasyllables both blank and with _rimalmezzo_, and lyrical stanzas. The plot itself is of the simplest, and resembles that of the _Amaranta_. Through the sovereign will of Venus and Cupid, Silvia and Panfilo love. A temporary estrangement, brought about by the mischievous rustic Murrone and his burlesque courting of Silvia, is set right by an opportune appearance of Cupid just as the girl has determined on suicide, and the lovers are united according to the Christian rite by the hermit, in the presence of Cupid and Venus. What could be more complete?

The following year, 1546, saw the appearance in type of two eclogues, _Erbusto_ and _Filena_, by a certain Giovanni Agostino Cazza or Caccia, the founder of a pastoral academy at Novara, for whose diversion the pieces were presumably composed.[399] The first of these, _Erbusto_, is in three acts, and _terza rima_. The elderly Erbusto is the rival of Ameto in the love of a shepherdess named Flora. The girl's affections are set on the younger suitor, and after some complications she is discovered to be Erbusto's own daughter, stolen as a baby during the war in Piedmont. Similar recognitions, imitated from the Roman comedy, are of frequent occurrence in the regular Italian drama, and are not uncommonly connected, as here, with some actual event in contemporary history. The second piece, _Filena_, runs to four acts, and has lyrical songs introduced into the _terza rima_. It appears to be a sufficiently shameless and somewhat formless farce, which, being quite alien from the spirit of the regular pastoral, need not be examined in detail.

To the next few years belong a series of 'giocose moderne e facetissime ecloghe pastorali,' by the Venetian Andrea Calmo, composed in _endecasillabi sdruccioli sciolti_, and published in 1553.[400] They introduce a number of dialects, suited to various personages; Arcadian shepherds like Lucido, Silvano, and the rest; rustics with names such as Grítolo di Burano, mythological figures, and a _satiro villan_ who speaks Dalmatian. An advance in dramatization may perhaps be seen in the introduction of a second pair of lovers, while the writer goes even further than Beccari in the introduction of oracles (a point in which, however, he had been anticipated by the author of _Mirzia_), and an echo scene, a device of which Calmo's example is certainly of an elementary character.

The most important, however, of the writers between Casalio and Beccari is the well-known Ferrarese novelist Giovanbattista Giraldi, surnamed Cintio, the author of the _Ecatommiti_, and of a number of tragedies on the classical model. The first piece of his which claims our attention is a _satira_ entitled _Egle_, which was privately performed at the author's house in February, 1545, and again the following month in the presence of Duke Ercole and his brother, the Cardinal Ippolito d' Este.[401] The play is an avowed and solitary attempt to revive the 'satyric' drama of the Greeks, a kind of which the _Cyclops_ of Euripides is the only extant example. The action is simple. The rural demigods, fauns, satyrs, and the like, having long sought the love of the nymphs of Diana in vain, enter, at the suggestion of Egle the mistress of Silenus, upon a plan whereby they may have the careless maidens in their power. They make a show of leaving Arcadia in high dudgeon, abandoning their families of little fauns and satyrs. On these the unwary maids take pity, and begin forthwith to dance and play with them in the woods. The deceitful divinities, however, have only hidden for a while, and when opportunity serves are placed by Egle where they may surprise the nymphs at sport. They suddenly break cover, follow and seize the flying girls, and are on the point of enjoying the success of their plot when Diana intervenes, transforming her outraged followers into trees, streams, and so forth. The metamorphosis is related by Pan himself, who returns bearing in his hand a reed, all that is left of his beloved Syrinx. Thus the piece may be regarded as a dramatization of Sannazzaro's _Salices_, expanded by the free introduction of mythological characters, and bears no connexion with the real nature of pastoral, the life-blood of which, whether in the idyls of Theocritus, the _Arcadia_ of Sannazzaro, or the _Aminta_ of Tasso, is primarily and essentially human.

The other work of Cintio with which we are here concerned, a fragment which remained in MS. till published by Carducci in 1896 as an appendix to his essays on the _Aminta_, may be at once pronounced the most important attempt at writing a really pastoral drama previous to Beccari's _Sacrifizio_. It is found with the heading 'Favola pastorale' in an autograph MS., along with several other works of the author, including _Egle_, but with no indication of the date of composition. The author survived till 1573, but we may reasonably suppose that the piece was written before his departure from Ferrara in 1558. It consists of what are apparently intended for two acts, headed respectively _Parte prima_ and _Parte quinta_, each consisting of several scenes, though these are not distinguished. The first two form a sort of introduction, in which Cupid and Diana mutually defy one another on account of the nymph Irinda, whom the boy-god has wounded with love for Filicio. The shepherd returns her love, but finds a rival in Viaste, whose blind passion, though unreturned, will admit no discourse of reason. It is, however, ultimately discovered that Irinda and Viaste are cousins, a fact which is regarded as a sufficient reason for the infatuated swain to free himself wholly and immediately from his passion, and accept the love of the faithful Frodignisa, who has followed him throughout.[402] The story, which resembles that of Cazza's _Erlusto_, is thus of a simple order, and it is chiefly in the composition that the likeness of the play to the regular pastoral is seen. What the author intended for the middle three acts it is hard to say, since the action at the opening of the fifth is precisely at the point at which the first left it. Probably they were never written, and the author may even have abandoned his work owing to the difficulty of filling the hiatus. In both Cintio's pieces the metre is blank verse (hendecasyllabic), diversified in the case of the _Egle_ with a rimed chorus.[403]

One point becomes, I think, apparent from the foregoing examination; namely, that while the fully developed pastoral owes its origin to the evolution of the eclogue as a dramatic kind, its final form was arrived at, not merely by a natural and inevitable process of growth, but as the result of direct experimenting on certain lines. The evolution, that is, was at the last conscious, not spontaneous. While up to a certain point the dramatic germs latent in the eclogue develop upon a natural line of growth, each advance being the reasonable resuit of the action of surrounding conditions upon a previous stage of evolution, there comes a time when authors seem to have felt that the form was in a state of unstable equilibrium, that it was advancing towards a final expression, which it had so far failed to find, but which each individual writer sought to realize in his work. The supposition of a theoretic preoccupation on the part of these writers is reasonable enough, considering the critical atmosphere in which the pastoral developed, and the heated controversy which soon centred round the accomplished form; and it serves at the same time to explain the liabilities of writers before Tasso to run metaphorically into blind alleys. The conscious endeavour after a stable and adequate form appears to me a determining factor in the work of Casalio, Cintio, and finally Beccari.

Of the _Sacrifizio_ of Agostino Beccari[404] have already spoken at some length in the text (p. 174). From the account there given it will be seen that the plot, though from its threefold character it attains a certain degree of complexity, is in reality little more than the scenic combination of three distinct stories, each of which might well have formed the subject of an eclogue, and the whole play is thus closely connected with the dramatic simplicity of its origin.[405] The verse, which is blank, interspersed with lyrical passages, shows, like Cintio's, the influence of the regular drama. For the satyr we need seek no individual source; he was already as much a recognized character of the Italian pastoral as the Vice was of the English interlude. The magical element is doubtless ultimately traceable to a romantic source; it is one which almost entirely drops out of the later pastoral drama, in which the more distinctively classical oracle gradually won for itself a place. Finally, I may remark that Beccari's claim to be considered the originator of the pastoral drama was made in spite of his being perfectly well acquainted with Cintio's _Egle_, as a passage in the first scene of Act III testifies. There is, indeed, no reason to suppose that any writer before Carducci ever considered Cintio's play as belonging to the realm of pastoral.

Beccari's immediate successors were of no great interest in themselves, and contributed little to the development of the form. In 1556 appeared a 'comedia pastorale,' by the Piedmontese Bartolommeo Braida, a hybrid composition in octave rime, written possibly for representation at the court of Claudio of Savoy, governor of Provence and Marseilles, to whose wife it is dedicated.[406] This piece resembles Poliziano's play, not only in metrical structure, but in having a prologue spoken by Mercury, while by its general character it connects itself with such old-fashioned productions as Cavassico's Bellunese eclogue of 1513, and the representation reported from Bologna by Dulfo in 1496. On the other hand, the introduction of three pairs of lovers, and the incident of the nymph being bound to a tree, suggest that Braida may at least have heard of the Ferrarese _Sacrifizio_. The whole is a strange medley of various and incongruous elements--mythological in Mercury and Somnus; pastoral in the shepherds, Tindaro, Ruffo, Alpardo, and their loves; rustic in the clown Basso, who speaks Piedmontese in shorter measure; satirical in the wanton hermit; allegorical in the figure of Disdain; romantic in the wild man of the woods and the magic herb. Thus on the whole Braida's work represents a decided retrogression in the development of pastoral; or perhaps it may be more accurate to say that it renects the tradition of an outlying district in which that development had been retarded.

To this period likewise, if we are to believe the author, belongs a 'nova favola pastorale' entitled _Calisto_, by Luigi Groto, the blind littérateur of Adria, whose preposterous pastoral, _Il pentimento amoroso_, was produced between the _Aminta_ and the _Pastor fido_. According to a note in the original edition, the piece was first represented at Adria in 1561, revived and rewritten in 1582, and first printed the following year.[407] It is founded on the well-known tale of the love of Zeus for Calisto, a nymph of Artemis, who by him became the mother of the Arcadians, as related by Ovid in the second book of the _Metamorphoses_ (ll. 401, &c.). It may, therefore, so far as the subject is concerned, be classed among the mythological plays, but the author has mingled with his main theme much of the vulgar indecency of the Latin comedy as adopted in the _cinquecento_ on to the Italian stage. The piece is composed in _sdrucciolo_ blank verse.

With our next author, the orator Alberto Lollio, we return once more to Ferrara. In 1563 a play entitled _Aretusa_[408] was presented before Alfonso II and his brother the cardinal, by the students of law at Ferrara, at the command, it is said, of Laura Eustoccia d' Este. The verse is blank, diversified by a single sonnet, but the piece is again a hybrid of an earlier type--a love-knot solved by the discovery of consanguinity--with certain elements of Plautine comedy added. There is also extant in MS. the plot, or prose sketch, of another comedy by Lollio, entitled _Galatea_, on the same model as the _Aretusa_, but with somewhat greater complexity of construction.[409]

It is evident that, though in the _Sacrifizio_ the final form of the pastoral drama had been attained, the fact was not immediately recognized. Indeed, until the seal had been set upon that form by the genius of Tasso, it must have been difficult for any one to realize what had been achieved. The form had been discovered, but it remained to prove that it was the right form, and to show its capabilities. In 1567 a return was made to the tradition of Beccari in Agostino Argenti's play _Lo Sfortunato_.[410] With this piece also, composed in blank verse with a couple of lyric songs, we have already been sufficiently concerned (p. 175). I only wish to draw attention to one point here, namely, that if Guarini's Silvio is a companion portrait to Tasso's Silvia, she in her turn is but the feminine counterpart of Argenti's Silvio. The _Sfortunato_ stands on the threshold of the _Aminta_, and its performance may have suggested to Tasso the composition of his pastoral masterpiece, but it contributed little either to the evolution of the form, or to the poetic supremacy of its successor.

We have arrived at the end of the catalogue, and it is for the reader to decide whether or not I have succeeded in establishing a formal continuity between the eclogue and the pastoral drama, and so answering the most serious of Carducci's objections.

Appendix II

Bibliography

Any attempt at an adequate bibliography of pastoral literature would require space far greater than that at present at my disposal. In the case of all the more important works considered in the foregoing inquiry, I have been careful to mention the edition from which my quotations are taken whenever this was not the original. Nor do I propose to mention in this place every book or article which I have consulted in the course of my study. Where some particular authority has been followed on some particular point the reference has been given in the form of a footnote. There are, however, two classes of books which require special mention. The first of these consists of those works to which I have had cause constantly to refer, and which I have therefore quoted by abbreviated titles; and second, of certain works which I have constantly consulted and followed, but to which I have had no occasion to make specific reference in the notes. A list of the works coming under one or other of these heads will give a very fair survey of the critical literature of the subject, and may therefore not only be convenient to readers of my work, but may prove useful as a guide to any who may wish to make an independent study. I have, of course, derived much help from the critical apparatus accompanying many of the texts cited, but these I have not, as a rule, thought it necessary to recapitulate here. Where, however, I have used critical matter in editions other than those quoted for the text, they have been duly recorded. Ordinary works of reference need no specific notice.

A. General.

(α) Works on General Literature. These chiefly refer to Italian and English literature.

(i) _Italian._ J. A. Symonds. _Renaissance in Italy. Vols. IV and V. Italian Literature._ To the whole of this work, but especially to the section dealing with literature and to that on the Catholic reaction mentioned below (B. vi), my indebtedness is far more than any specific acknowledgement can express. My references are to the new edition (7 vols., London, 1897-8), which has the advantages of being obtainable, and of having a full though not very accurate index to the whole work, but which is unfortunately very carelessly printed.

B. Weise and E. Pèrcopo. _Geschichte der italienischen Litteratur von den ältesten Zeiten bis zur Gegenwart._ Leipzig und Wien, 1899. I have often found this of considerable use as summarizing the latest work on the subject. It is, however, not invariably accurate, and the literary appreciations, whether original or borrowed, are seldom enlightening. Had the space occupied by these been devoted to giving references to special works, the value of the book would have been enormously increased.

A. D'Ancona and O. Bacci. _Manuale della letteratura italiana._ 5 vols. Firenze, 1897-1900. I have fonnd the biographical and bibliographical notes to this collection of the greatest use.

(ii) _English._ W. J. Courthope. _A History of English Poetry._ 5 vols, published. London, 1895-1905. Vols, ii and iii contain accounts of English poets of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.

A. W. Ward. _A History of English Dramatic Literature to the Death of Queen Anne._ New and revised edition. 3 vols. London, 1899.

F. G. Fleay. _A Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama._ 2 vols. London, 1891.

(β) General Works on Pastoral. Of these some refer chiefly to pastoral poetry, some mainly to the English drama.

(i) _Poetry._ E. W. Gosse. _An Essay on English Pastoral Poetry._ A. B. Grosart, _Rider on Mr. Gosse's Essay._ In Grosart's edition of Spenser, vol. iii, 1882, pp. ix-lxxi.

H. O. Sommer. _Erster Versuch über die englische Hirtendichtung._ Marburg, 1888. A useful sketch of the eclogue in English literature from 1510 to 1805, though superficial and not always accurate.

Katharina Windscheid. _Die englische Hirtendichtung von._1579-1625. Halle, 1895. This contains a good deal of original investigation, and I have found it of considerable use. In questions of literary judgement, however, the author is not always happy.

C. H. Herford. _Spenser. Shepheards Calender, edited with introduction and notes._ London, 1897. The Introduction contains an admirable sketch of pastoral poetry in general.

E. K. Chambers. _English Pastorals, with an introduction._ London, 1895. A collection of lyrics, eclogues, and scenes, with a useful introduction.

(ii) _English Drama._ Homer Smith. _Pastoral Influence in the English Drama._ Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. xii (1897), pp. 355-460. This has been constantly cited in my notes. As the first serious attempt to investigate the English pastoral drama it deserves credit; but in detail it is often inaccurate, while I generally disagree with the author on all matters on which divergence of opinion is possible.

Josephine Laidler. _A History of Pastoral Drama in England until 1700._ Englische Studien, July, 1905, xxxv (2). pp. 193-259. This appeared while my work vas passing through the press, and though I have read it carefully, I think that the reference to Mahaffy's not very accurate account of Arcadia (see p. 51, note) is the total extent of my indebtedness. The article adds little to Homer Smith's work for the period with which we are concerned, while it is at the same time both incomplete and inaccurate.

A. H. Thorndike. _The Pastoral Element in the English Drama before 1605._ Modern Language Notes, vol. xiv. cols. 228-246 (1899). A careful and interesting article, which I also only read while my book was in the press. Though it did not contain much that was new, I was particularly glad to find myself in agreement with the author as regards the importance of the pre-Italian tradition in English pastoral.

(γ) I ought also to mention: J. C. Dunlop. _History of Prose Fiction. A new edition by H. Wilson.._2 vols. London, 1888. The fact that this work consists chiefly of summaries of plots and stories makes it of great value for tracing sources.

B. Special.

(i) Classical (Chap. I, sect. ii). J. A. Symonds. _Studies of the Greek Poets. Third edition._ 2 vols. London, 1893. Chap. XXI deals with 'The Idyllists.'

Andrew Lang. _Theocritus, Bion, and Moschus rendered info English Prose, with an introductory essay._ London, 1889. The introduction contains a very interesting account of the conditions of Alexandrian poetry.

Joseph Jacobs. _Daphnis and Chloe: the Elizabethan version from Amyot's Translation by Angel Day._ London, 1890. The introduction contains an account of Longus and his translators.

(ii) Medieval and Humanistic (Chap. I, sect. iv). F. Macrì-Leone. _La Bucolica latina nella letteratura italiana del secolo XIV, con una introduzione sulla bucolica latina nel medioevo._ Parte I (all published). Torino, 1889.

P. H. Wicksteed and E. G. Gardner. _Dante and Giovanni del Virgilio, including a critical edition of the text of Dante's 'Eclogae Latinae' and of the poelic remains of Giovanni del Virgilio._ Westminster, 1902.

Attilio Hortis, _Scritti inediti di Francesco Petrarca pubblicati ed illustrati.._Trieste, 1874.

Luigi Ruberto. _Le Egloghe del Petrarca._ Il Propugnatore, xi (2). p. 244, xii (1). p. 83, (2). p. 153. Bologna, 1878-9.

Attilio Hortis. _Studl sulle opere latine del Boccaccio con particolare riguardo alla storia delia erudizione nel medio evo e alle letterature straniere._ Trieste, 1879.

Marcus Landau. _Giovanni Boccaccio, sua vita e sue opere. Traduzione di Camillo Antona-Traversi approvata e ampliata dall' autore._ Napoli, 1881. Greatly enlarged from the original German edition. Stuttgart, 1877.

[Bucolic Collections.] (a) _Eclogae Vergilii. Calphurnii. Nemesiani. Frcisci. Pe. Ioannis Boc. Ioanbap Mā. Pomponii Gaurici.._Florentiae. Philippus de Giunta. 1504. Decimo quinto. Calendas Octobris. Contains the _editio princeps._of Boccaccio's eclogues.

(β) _En habes Lector Bucolicorum Autores XXXVIII. quot quot uidelicet à Vergilij ætate ad nostra usque tempora, eo poëmatis genere usos, sedulò inquirentes nancisci in præsentia licuit: farrago quidem Eclogarum CLVI. mira cùm elegantia tum uarietate referta, nuncque primum in studiosorum iuuenum gratiam atque usum collecta._ Basel. Ioannes Oporinus. 1546. Mense Martio.

[Sannazzaro.] I may note here, what I was unaware of when writing my account of Sannazzaro's Latin poems, that the _Salices._was translated into English under the title of _The Osiers._ by Beaupré Bell, about 1724. The MS. is in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge; see M. R. James' Catalogue of the Western MSS., ii. p. 102.

(iii) Spanish (Chap. I, sect. vii). George Ticknor. _History of Spanish Literature. Sixth American edition._ 3 vols. Cambridge (Mass.), 1888.

J. Fitzmaurice-Kelly, _A History of Spanish Literature._ London, 1898.

H. A. Rennert. _The Spanish Pastoral Romances._ Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. vii (3). pp. 1-119, (1892). An elaborate study, which, however, I only discovered when my work was in the press.

Francesco Torraca. _Gl' imitatori stranieri di Jacopo Sannazaro. Seconda edizione accresciuta._ Roma, 1882. A study which I have found very useful both in relation to Spanish and French pastoralism.

(iv) French (Chap. I, sect. viii). L. Petit de Julleville. _Histoire de la Langue et de la Littérature française._ 8 vols. Paris, 1896-1899.

(v) English Poetry (Chap. II). J. G. Underhill. _Spanish Literature in the England of the Tudors._ New York (Columbia University Studies in Literature), 1899. A valuable study, particularly in connexion with Montemayor, with useful bibliography.

A. W. Pollard. _The Castell of Labour, translated from the French of Pierre Gringore by Alexander Barclay._ Edinburgh (Roxburghe Club), 1905. Whatever can be said for Barclay as a poet is admirably said in the Introduction to this work.

F. W. Moorman. _William, Browne. His Britannia's Pastorals and the pastoral poetry of the Elizabethan age._ Strassburg (Quellen und Forschungen), 1897.

Walter Raleigh. _The English Novel. Second edition._ London, 1895. To this brilliant study, and in particular to the treatment of Euphuism and Arcadianism, I am deeply indebted.

J. J. Jusserand. _The English Novel in the Time of Shakespeare, translated from the French by Elisabeth Lee. Revised and enlarged by the author._ London, 1890.

K. Brunhuber. _Sir Philip Sidneys Arcadia und ihre Nachläufer._ Nürnberg, 1903. Though not always accurate, the first part, dealing chiefly with the sources, possesses original value; the same cannot be said of the second, dealing with the dramatizations, which is superficial.

(vi) Italian Drama (Chap. III). J. L. Klein. _Geschichte des Dramas. Vol. V. Das italienische Drama. Zweiter Band._ Leipzig, 1867.

Wilhelm Creizenach. _Geschichte des neueren Dramas. Zweiter Band. Renaissance und Reformation. Erster Theil._ Halle, 1901.

Alessandro D'Ancona. _Origini del teatro italiano._ 2 vols. Torino, 1891. Very much enlarged from the original edition, 2 vols., Firenze, 1877.

Curzio Mazzi. _La Congrega dei Rozzi di Siena nel secolo XVI._ 2 vols. Firenze, 1882.

Vittorio Rossi. _Battista Guarini ed il Pastor Fido. Studio biografico-critico con documenti inediti._ Torino, 1886.

Giosuè Carducci. _Su l'Aminta di T. Tassa, saggi tre. Con una pastorale inedita di G. B. Giraldi Cinthio._ Firenze, 1899.

J. A. Symonds. _Renaissance in Italy. Vols. VI and VII. The Catholic Reaction._ (See above, A. a. i.) Chapters VII and XI contain admirable criticisms of the pastoral work of Tasso and Guarini.

(vii) English Masques (Chap. VII). Rudolf Brotanek. _Die englischen Maskenspiele._ Wien und Leipzig (Wiener Beiträge), 1902.

David Masson. _The Poetical Works of John Milton, edited with memoir, introduction, notes, and an essay on Milton's English and versification._ 3 vols. London, 1890.

M. W. Sampson. _The Lyric and Dramatic Poems of John Milton, edited, with an introduction and notes._ New York, 1901.

Index

[In cases where a name occurs several times, the main reference or references, if any, are distinguished by bold-face type.]

Abbot, Sir Maurice, _Lord Mayor_ Abbruzzese, A. _Abuses Stript and Whipt_ _Accademia tusculana_ Achelly, Thomas Achilles Tatius _Actaeon and Diana_ àdan de le Hale, _or_ le Bochu Addiaccio, academy at Prato Admiral, Lord (Charles, Lord Howard) _Adone_ _Adrasta_ Aeneas Silvius, _see_ Pius II. _Aeneid_ _Aethiopica_ _Affectionate Shepherd_ Affò, Ireneo _Ages_ _Agincourt_ _Alba_ Alberti, Leo Battista _Albion's England_ _Albumazar_ _Alceo_ _Alchemist_ _Alcon_ Alcuin Aldus Manutius, the elder Aldus Manutius, the younger Alexander VI, _Pope_ Alexander, Sir William (Earl of Stirling) _Alexis_ Allacci, Leone _Allegro_ Almerici, Tiburio Alva, Duke of _Amadis of Gaul_ _Amaranta_ _Amarilli_ _Ambra_ (Lorenzo de' Medici) _Ambra_ (Poliziano) Ambrogini, Angelo, _see_ Poliziano. _Ameto_ _Aminta_ _Aminta_ (Tasso), English translations: Fraunce Reynolds Dancer Oldmixon, du Bois, Ayre, Stoekdale, Leigh Hunt, anon. _Aminta bagnato_ _Aminta difeso_ _Amintae Gaudia_ _Amphrissa_ _Amore cortese_ _Amore fuggitivo_ _Amores_ (Ovid) _Amorosi sospiri_ _Amorous War_ _Amyntas_ (Randolph) _Amyntas_ (Watson) Amyot, Jacques Anacreon Ancona, Alessandro D' _Andria_ _Andromana_ Angeli, Nicolò degli _Anglia_ Anne of Denmark Annunzio, Gabriele d' _Anthology_ (Greek) Antona-Traversi, Camillo Antonius _Apollo and Daphne_ _Apologia contre l'autor del Verato_ _Apology for Poetry_ Apuleius Aquilano, Serafino Arber, Edward _Arcades_ Arcadia, Academy of the _Arcadia_ (Sannazzaro) _Arcadia_ (Shirley) _Arcadia_ (Sidney) _Arcadia_ (Vega, drama) _Arcadia_ (Vega, romance) _Arcadia in Brenta_ _Arcadia Reformed_ _Arcadian Lovers_ _Arcadian Princess_ _Arcadian Virgin_ Archer, Edward _Archivio storico per le provincie napolitane_ _Aretusa_ _Argalus and Parthenia_ (Glapthorne) _Argalus and Parthenia_ (Quarles) Argenti, Agostino _Arimène_ Ariosto, Lodovico _Arisbas_ Aristotle Arnold, Matthew _Arraignment of Paris_ Arsocchi, Francesco _Art of English Poesy_ _As You Like It_ _Asolani_ _Assetta_ _Astrée_ _Astrological Discourse_ _Astrophel_ _Astrophel and Stella_ _Atalanta_ Atchelow, Thomas _Athenae Oxonienses_ _Athlette_ Aubrey, John _Aucassin et Nicolette_ Ausonius _Auto pastoril castelhano_ Averara, Niccolò Ayre, William

B., I. D. _Babylonica_ _Bacchus and Ariadne_ Bacci, Orazio Baglione family Balbuenas, Bernardo de Baldi, Bernardino Baldini, Vittorio Baldinucci, Filippo Baldovini, Francesco Ballad Society Bandello, Matteo Bang, W. Barclay, Alexander Barclay, John Bariola, Felice Barksted, William Barnes, Barnabe Barnfield, Richard Baron, Robert Bartoli, Adolfo Bartoli, Clementi Basse, William Bastiano di Francesco (linaiuolo) Bathurst, Theodore Baylie, Richard Beaumont, Francis _Beautiful Shepherdess of Arcadia_ _Beca di Dicomano_ Beccari, Agostino Bede Beeching, H. C. Belcari, Feo Beling, Richard Bell, Beaupré Bellarmino, Roberto, _Cardinal_ Bellay, Joachim du Belleau, Remi _Bellessa, the Shepherd's Queen_ Bellincione, Bernardo Bembo, Pietro Bendidio, Lucrezia Beni, Paolo Benivieni, Girolamo Bentivogli, Annibale Benvoglienti, Uberto _Bergerie_ (Belleau) _Bergerie de Juliette_ Berni, Francesco Bertini, Romolo _Biographia Dramatica_ Bion Blake, William Blosio, _see_ Pallai delia Sabina, Biagio. Boccaccio, Giovanni Bodoni, Giambattista Boethius Boiardo, Matteo Maria Bois, P. B. Du Boleyn, Anne Bonarelli della Rovere, Guidubaldo Bond, R. W. Bonfadino, Giovanbattista Boni, Giovanni de Bonifacia, Carmosina Boninsegni, Fiorino Bonnivard, François de _Bonny Hynd_ _Bonny May_ Bono de Monteferrato, Manfrido Borgia, Lucrezia Boscán Almogaver, Juan Botticelli, Alessandro Brabine, Thomas Brackley, Viscount, _see_ Egerton Braga, Teofilo Braida, Bartolommeo Brandt, Sebastian. Brathwaite, Richard Breton, Nicholas Bridgewater, Earl of, _see_ Egerton. _Brief Discourse about Baptism_ _Britannia's Pastorals_ Brome, Richard Brooke, Dr. Brooke, Christopher Brooke, Samuel Brookes, Mr. _Broom of Cowdenknows_ Brotanek, Rudolf Browne, William Brunhuber, K. Bruni, Lionardo Bryskett, Lodovic Buc, Sir George Buchanan Buck, George, _Gent._ _Bucolica Quirinalium_ _Bucolicorum Autores XXXVIII_ _Bucolics_ (Vergil) Bulifon, Antonio Bullen, A. H. Buonarroti, Michelangelo, the younger _Burd Helen_ Byse, Fanny

C., H. Caccia, G. A., _see_ Cazza, G. A. _Caccia col falcone_ _Caccia d' amore_ Calderon de la Barca, Pedro _Calendar of Shepherds_ _Calisto_ Callimachus Calmo, Andrea Calpurnius Calvin, Jean Campori, G. _Canace_ Canello, Ugo Angelo _Canterbury Tales_ _Canzoniere_ (Petrarca) Camoens, Luis de Caperano, Alessandro _Capitolo pastorale_ (Machiavelli) Cardona, Antonia Carducci, Giosuè _Careless Shepherdess_ Carew, Thomas _Caride_ Carlton, Sir Dudley Carlo emanuele, _Duke of Savoy_ _Carmen bucolicum_ (Endelechius) Caro, Annibale Carretto, Galeotto Del _Carte du Tendre_ Casalio, Giambattista Cassio da Narni Castalio Castelletti, Cristoforo Castelvetri, Giacopo Castiglione, Baldassarre _Castle of Labour_ Catharine of Austria Catherine of Siena, _Saint_ Catullus Cavassico, Bartolommeo Cavendish, George Cazza, Giovanni Agostino _Cecaria_ Cecco di Mileto _Cefalo_ _Cefalo y Pocris_ _Celos aun del aire matan_ _Cent Nouvelles nouvelles_ Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de Cesana, Gasparo Chaloner, Thomas Chamberlain, John Chambers, E. K. Chandos, Lord Chapman, George Chariton Charles I Charles II Châteillon, Sébastien Chaucer, Geoffrey _Chester mysteries_ Chettle, Henry Chetwood, W. R. Child, F. J. _Child Waters_ _Chloridia_ _Chloris_ _Chloris and Ergasto_ _Cicro_ _Cid_ _Cintia_ Ciotti, Giovanbattista Claudio of Savoy _Clio_ _Clorys and Orgasto_ Ciacco dell'Anguillaja _Citizen and Uplondishman_ Clement VI, _Pope_ Coello, Antonio _Coelum Britannicum_ Coleridge, S. T. _Colin Clout's come home again_ Colisano, Count of Colleoni, Bartolommeo Collier, J. P. Colonna, Giovanni, _Cardinal_ (at Avignon) Colonna, Giovanni, _Cardinal_ (at Rome) _Columbia University Studies in Literature_ Compani, A. _Compendio della poesia tragicomica_ _Complete Angler_ _Comus_ _Conflictus veris et hiemis_ Conington, John Constable, Henry Contarini, Francisco _Converted Robber_ _Copa_ _Coplas de Mingo Revulgo_ Corazzini, Francesco Corneille, Pierre _Cornhill Magazine_ Corrado, Gregorio Correggio, Niccolò da _Cortegiano_ Count Palatine (Frederick V, Elector Palatine) Courthope, W. J. _Coventry mysteries_ _Cowdenknows,_ see _Broom of Cowdenknows._ Cowley, Abraham Cox, Robert Coxeter, Thomas Creizenach, Wilhelm Cresci, Pietro Crescimbeni, G. M. Croce, B. Crusca, Accademia della Cuchetti, Giovanni Donato _Cuestion de amor_ Cunningham, Peter _Cupid and Psyche_ _Cupid's Revenge_ _Cyclops_ _Cynthia_ (Barnfield) _Cynthia_ (Dyer)

D., D. D., E. Dancer, John Daniel, Samuel Dante Alighieri _Danza di Venere_ _Daphnaïda_ _Daphne_ _Daphnis and Chloe_ Δάφνις Πολυστέφανος Davenant, Sir William Davies, Sir John Davison, Francis Day, Angel Day, John _Decameron_ _Défense de la langue française_ _Defence of Poesy_ _Defence of Rime_ Deighton, Kenneth Dekker, Thomas Delaval, Lady Elizabeth _Delia_ Denny, Sir William Denham, Sir John Denores, Giasone, _see_ Nores, Giasone de. _Deorum Dona_ _De Remedio Amoris_ Derby, Countess Dowager of Dering, Sir E. _Descensus Astraeae_ Devonshire, Duke of _De Vulgari Eloquio_ _Dialogo di tre ciechi_ _Dialogue at Wilton_ _Dialogue in Praise of Astrea_ _Dialogues and Dramas_ _Diana_ _Diane_ Diane de Poitiers Dickenson, John _Dictionary of National Biography_ _Dido_ Digby, Sir Kenelm Digby, Lady Venetia Dionisio, Alessandro Dionisio, Scipione _Discorso intorno alla commedia_ _Discourse of English Poetry_ _Discourse on Pastoral_ _Discoveries_ _Dispraise of a Courtly Life_ _Divina Commedia_ _Dodsley's Old Plays_ Dodus Dolce, Lodovico _Donald of the Isles_ Donati, Alesso Donne, John _Don Quixote_ _Dorastus and Fawnia_ Dorset, Earl of Dossi, Dosso Dove, John Drake, Sir Francis Drayton, Michael _Driadeo d'amore_ Drummond, Jean Drummond, William Dryden, John Du Bartas, Seigneur (Guillaume de Salluste) _Due pellegrini_ Dunlop, J. C. Dulfo, Floriano Dyce, Alexander Dyer, Sir Edward Dymocke, Mr. Dymocke, Charles Dymocke, Sir Edward Dymocke, John

_Earl Lithgow_ _Earl Richard_ Early English Text Society Ebsworth, J. W. _Ecatommiti_ _Ecloga di amicizia_ _Ecloga di justizia_ _Ecloga duarum sanctimonialium_ _Ecloga Theoduli_ _Éclogas_ (Encina) _Éclogue au Roi_ (Marot) _Éclogue Gratulatory_ (Peele) _Éclogue, ou Chant pastoral_(I. D. B.) _Éclogues sacrées_ (Belleau) Edward IV, _King of England_ Edward V, _King of England_ Edward VI, _King of England_ Egerton, Lady Alice Egerton, John (first Earl of Bridgewater) Egerton, John (third Viscount Brackley and second Earl of Bridgewater) Egerton, Sir Thomas (Baron Ellesmere and first Viscount Brackley) Egerton, Thomas (son of John, first Earl of Bridgewater) _Egle_ Elizabeth, _Queen of England_ Elizabeth, _Duchess of Urbino, see_ Gonzaga, Elizabeta. _Elpine_ Encina, Juan del Encinas, Pedro de Endelechius, Severus Sanctus _England's Helicon_ _England's Mourning Garment_ _England's Parnassus_ _Englische Studien_ _English Grammar_ (Jonson) _English Miscellany_ Enrique IV, _King of Spain_ _Entertainment at Althorp_ _Entertainment at Elvetham_ _Entertainment at Kenilworth_ _Entertainment at Richmond_ Epicuro de' Marsi _Epithalamium_ (Spenser) Erasmus, Desiderius _Erbusto_ Ἐροτοπαίγνιον Erythraeus, Janus Nicius Essex, Earl of Este, House of (Estensi) Este, Alfonso d' (Alfonso I), _Duke of Ferrara_ Este, Alfonso d' (Alfonso II), _Duke of Ferrara_ Este, Ercole d' (Ercole I), _Duke of Ferrara_ Este, Ercole d'(Ercole II), _Duke of Ferrara_ Este, Francesco d' Este, Ippolito d', _Cardinal_ Este, Laura Eustoccia d' Este, Leonora d' Este, Lucrezia d' (wife of Annibale Bentivogli) Este, Lucrezia d' (daughter of Ercole II) Este, Luigi d', _Cardinal_ (son of Ercole II) Este, Renata d' (wife of Ercole II, and daughter of Louis XII of France) _Euphormus_ Euripides

_Faery Queen_ Fairfax, Edward _Fairy Pastoral_ _Faithful Shepherdess_ Falkland, Viscount _Fancy's Theatre_ Fanfani, P. Fanshawe, Sir Richard _Faunus_ _Faustus, Dr_. _Feast of Adonis_ Ferdinand I, _King of Naples_ Ferrario, Giulio Ferraby, George FF. Anglo-Britannus (_pseud._) _Fiammella_ _Fickle Shepherdess_ _Fida Armilla_ _Fida ninfa_ _Fida pastora_ _Fidus Pastor_ Field, Nathan _Fig for Momus_ _Figlia di Iorio_ _Figliuoli di Aminta e Silvia e di Mirtillo ed Amarilli_ Figueroa, Cristóbal Suárez de Figueroa, Francisco de _Filena_ Fileno Addiacciato _Filide_ Filleul, Nicolas _Filli di Sciro_ _Filli di Sciro_ (Bonarelli), English translations: Sidnam Talbot [Latin] _(Scyros)_ _Finta Fiammetta_ Firenzuola, Agnolo _Fischerin_ _Fisherman's Tale_ Fitzmaurice-Kelly, James _Five Plays in One_ Flamini, F. Fleay, F. G. Fleming, Abraham Fletcher, Giles, the elder Fletcher, John Fletcher, Phineas _Florimene_ _Flower of Fidelity_ Folengo, Teofilo Fontanini, Giusto Fontenelle, Bernard le Bovier de _Forbonius and Prisceria_ Forde, Thomas Fortini, Pietro François I, _King of France_. Frati, L. Fratti, Giovanni Fraunce, Abraham Frederick of Aragon, _King of Naples_ Frezzi, Frederigo _Frutti d'amore_ Furness, H. H.

G., T. _Galatea_ (Cervantes) _Galatea_ (Lollio) _Galizia_ _Gallathea_ _Gammer Gurton's Needle_ Garcia de Toledo Garcilaso de la Vega Gardner, E. G. Gascoigne, George _Gaudeamus!_ Gauricus, Pomponius _Gentle Shepherd_ _Georgics_ _Gerusalemme liberata_ _Gesta Romanorum_ Gifford, William Ginguené, P. L. _Giornale storico della letteratura italiana_ _Giostra_ Giovanni del Virgilio Giraldi _Cintio_, Giovanni Battista Giunta, Filippo di Glapthorne, Henry _Glasgow Peggie_ _God's Revenge against Murder_ Goethe, Johann Wolfgang Goffe, Thomas _Golden Age_ (Graham) _Golden Age_ (Heywood) _Golden Fleece_ Golding, Arthur Gollancz, Israel Gomersall, Robert Gonzaga, Cesare Gonzaga, Elisabetta (wife of Guidubaldo II of Urbino) Gonzaga, Francesco Gonzaga, Gianvincenzo, _Cardinal_ Gonzaga, Isabella Gonzaga, Scipione Gonzaga, Vincenzo Goodere, Anne Goodwin, Gordon Googe, Barnabe Gosse, E. W. Gosson, Stephen Gower, Lady Gower, John Gozze, Gauges de Graham, Kenneth _Grateful Servant_ Gravina, Gian Vincenzo _Great Plantagenet_ Greene, Robert Gregory XI, _Pope_ Greville, Dorothy Greville, Fulke (Lord Brooke) Grimaldi, Bartolommeo Ceva, _Duke of Telese_ Grimani, Marin, _Doge_ Gringore, Pierre _Gripus and Hegio_ Grosart, A. B. Groto, Luigi _Guardian_ Guarini, Alessandro Guarini, Battista Guerrini, O. Guidubaldo I, _see_ Montefeltro, G. Guidubaldo II, _see_ Rovere, G. della. Gustavus Adolphus, _King of Sweden_

H., I. Hall, Edward Hall, Joseph Halliwell-Phillipps, J. O. Hardy, Thomas _Harmony of the Church_ _Harpelus' Complaint_ Harvey, Gabriel Harvey, Richard Harvey, Thomas _Havelok the Dane_ Hawes, Stephen Hazlewood, Joseph Hazlitt, W. C Heber, Richard _Hecatompathia_ Heliodorus Henneman, J. B. Henrietta Maria _Henry VI_ Henry VIII, _King of England_ Henryson, Robert Henslowe, Philip _Heptameron_ Herbert, Sir Henry Herd, David Herford, C. H. _Hermophus_ Herrick, Robert Hewlett, Maurice Heywood, John Heywood, Thomas Hiero of Syracuse _Histoire des satyres et nymphes de Diane_ Homer _Honour's Academy_ Horace Hortis, Attilio _Hospital of Lovers_ _House of Fame_ Howard, Douglas Howard, Sir Edward Hunt, Leigh _Hunting of Cupid_ _Hymen's Triumph_ _Hymn to Pan_ _Hymns in honour of Love and Beauty_

_Idea_ _Idropica_ _Idyllia_ (Ausonius) _Idyls_ (Theocritus) Immerito (_pseud._) Index, Congregation of the _Index Expurgatorius_ _Index Librorum Prohibitorum_ _Inedited Poetical Miscellany_ Ingegneri, Angelo _Inner Temple Masque_ Innocent VIII, _Pope_ _Intricati_ _Intrichi d' amore_ Intronati, academy at Siena _Iphis and Ianthe_ Isauro, Fileno di (_pseud._) _Isle of Dogs_ _Isle of Gulls_ _Ivychurch_

Jackson, Henry Jacobs, James James I, _King of England_ James, M. R. James, William Jauregui, Juan de _Jealous Lovers_ Jeanne de Laval Jennaro, Pietro Jacopo de _John, King_ John of Bologna, _see_ Giovanni del Virgilio. _Johnie Faa_ Johnson, Samuel Jones, Inigo Jones, John Jones, Richard Jones, Stephen Jonson, Benjamin _Jonsonus Verbius_ Julius Caesar _Jupiter and Io_ Jusserand, J. J. Juvenal, 6.

K., E. Ker, Robert (Earl of Roxburgh) Ker, W. P. King, Edward Kipling, Rudyard Kirke, Edward Kirkman, Francis Klein, J. L. Kluge, Friedrich _Knave in Grain_ Knevet, Ralph _Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter_ _Knight of the Burning Pestle_ Koeppel, Emil Kynder, Philip

_Lady of May_ _Lady Pecunia_ La Fayette, Comtesse de _Lagrime di San Pietro_ Laidler, Josephine Lamb, Charles _Lamentations of Amyntas_ _Lamenta di Cecco da Varlungo_ Landau, Marcus Lang, Andrew Langland, William Languet, Hubert Laud, William _Laune des Verliebten_ Laura Lauro, Cristoforo Lawes, Henry _Lawyer's Logic_ _Lear, King_ Lee, Elizabeth Lee, Honoria Lee, Margaret L. Lee, S. L. Lee, William Lee Priory Press Legacci dello Stricca, Piero Antonio Legge, Cantrell Leicester, Earl of _Leir, King_ _Lenore_ Leo X, _Pope_ L'Estrange, Sir Roger _Lettere memorabili_ _Licia_ _Ligurino_ _Lilia_ _Literaturblatt für germanische und romanische Philologie_ _Lizie Baillie_ _Lizie Lindsay_ Lodge, Thomas _Lodovick Sforza_ Logan, W. H. Lollio, Alberto Longus _Love Crowns the End_ _Love in its Ecstasy_ _Love-Sick Court_ _Love Tricks_ _Love's Changelings' Change_ _Love's Labour's Lost_ _Love's Labyrinth_ _Love's Metamorphosis_ _Love's Mistress_, 407. _Love's Riddle_ _Loves Victory_ Loyse de Savoye Luca di Lorenzo Lucian Lucretius Lungo, Isidore del _Lusus Pastorales_ Luther, Martin Lydgate, John _Lycidas_ Lyly, John

Macaulay, Lord Machiavelli, Niccolo Machiavelli, Paolo Machin, Lewis Macrì-Leone, F. Madan, Falconer Mahaffy, J. P. Maidment, James _Maid's Metamorphosis_ _Maid's Revenge_ Malacreta, Giovan Pietro _Man in the Moon_ Mancina, Faustina _Mandragola_ _Mangora_ Manso, Giovanni Battista Mantegna, Andrea Mantuanus Manuscripts quoted:-- Bodleian:-- Ashmole Douce Rawl. Poet. British Museum:-- Addit. 10,444 " 11,743 " 14,047 " 18,638 " 29,493 Egerton, 1994 Harl. 6924 " 7044 Lansd. 1171 Sloane, 836 " 857 Caius College, Cambridge Cambridge University Library Emmanuel College, Cambridge Trinity College, Cambridge Manwood, Sir Peter Manwood, Thomas Marchesa, Cassandra Margaret of Navarre Marini, Giovanbattista Marlowe, Christopher Marot, Clement Marsi, E., _see_ Epicuro de' Marsi. Marston, John Martin Mar-prelate (_pseud._) Martino da Signa Mason, I. M. Masson, David _Materialien zur Kunde des alteren Englischen Dramas_ _Mauriziano_ _May Lord_ Mazzi, Curzio Mazzoni, G. McKerrow, R. B. Medici, Eleonora de' Medici, Ferdinando de' (Ferdinando I), _Grand Duke of Florence_ Medici, Giuliano de' (brother of Lorenzo) Medici, Giuliano de' (son of Lorenzo) Medici, Lorenzo de', _Il Magnifico_ _Melanthe_ _Meliboeus_ Menagio, Egidio _Menaphon_ Mendoza, Iñigo de _Menina e moça_ Menzini, Benedetto Meres, Francis _Merry Wives of Windsor_ _Metamorphoses_ _Metellus_ Meung, Jean de Meyers, Ernest _Midsummer Night's Dream_ Milton, John Mirari, Alessandro _Mirrha_ _Mirror for Magistrates_ _Mirzia_ _Modern Language Association of America, Publications of the_ _Modern Language Notes_ _Modern Language Quarterly_ _Modern Language Review_ Molza, Francesco Maria Montagu, Walter Montefeltro, Guidubaldo (Guidubaldo I), _Duke of Urbino_ Montemayor, Jorge de Moore, Thomas Moore, Sir Thomas Moorman, F. W. Moraldi, Giannantonio _Moretum_ _Morte del Danese_ _Morte della Nencia_ Moschus _Mother Bombie_ _Mother Hubberd's Tale_ _Mourning Garment_ _Mucedorus_ Munday, Anthony _Muses' Elizium_ _Muses' Looking Glass_ Mussato, Albertino _Mutability_ _Mydas_

Nappi, Cesare _Narcissus_ _Narcissus' Change_ Nashe, Thomas Nemesianus _Nencia da Barberino_ Nettleship, Henry _Never too Late_ _New English Dictionary_ Nichols, John Nicolas de Montreux _Nigella_ _Ninfa tiberina_ _Ninfale fiesolano_ Noci, Carlo Nores, Giasone de Norris of Rycote, Baron Northampton, Earl of Northumberland, Earl of Notker the German _Novelle de Novizi_ Numerianus _Nuova Antologia_ _Nut-brown Maid_

_Oberon_ Occleve, Thomas Octavianus _Old-fashioned Love_ _Old Fortunatus_ _Old Law_ Oldmixon, John _Old Wives' Tale_ Ollenix du Mont-Sacré _Ombres_ _Omphale_ Ongaro, Antonio Oporinus, Joannes _Orfeo_ _Orlando furioso_ _Orlando innamorato_ _Orphei Tragoedia_ Orsini family _Osiers_ _Otranto, Castle of_ Ovid

P., G. Paglia, Francesco Baldassare _Palladis Tamia_ Pallai delia Sabina, Biagio _Palmers Ode_ Palmerini, I. _Pan his Syrinx_ _Pandosto_ _Pan's Anniversary_ _Pan's Pipe_ _Paradise Lost_ _Paradiso_ Parsons, Philip _Parthenia_ _Parthenophil and Parthenope_ Pasqualigo, Luigi (Alvisi) _Passionate Pilgrim_ _Passionate Shepherd_ _Passionate Shepherd to his Love_ Paston, Edward Paston, Sir William _Pastor fido_ _Pastor fido_ (Guarini), English translations: 'Dymock,' Sidnam Fanshawe Settle [Latin] Grove, Clapperton _Pastor lobo_ _Pastor vedovo_ _Pastoral ending in a Tragedy_ _Pastores de Balue_ _Pastoureau crestien_ Patrizi, Francesco _Paul et Virginie_ Pausanias _Pazzia_ Peaps, William _Pearl_ Pearson, John Peele, George Pelliciari, Ercole Pembroke, Countess of _Pembroke's Arcadia, Countess of_, see _Arcadia_ (Sidney). _Pembroke's Ivychurch, Countess of_, see _Ivychurch_. _Penseroso_ _Pentimento amoroso_ Pepys, Samuel Pèrcopo, Erasmo Percy Society Percy, Thomas Percy, William Pérez, Alonzo _Perimedes the Blacksmith_ Perth, Earl of Perugino (Pietro Vespucci) _Pescatoria amorosa_ Pescetti, Orlando Petit de Julleville, L. Petowe, Henry Petrarca, Francesco Petrarca, Gherardo Phanocles _Philaster_ Philetas _Phillida and Corin_ _Phillida and Corydon_ _Phillida flouts me_ Phillips, Edward _Phillis_ _Phillis of Scyros_, see _Filli di Sciro_. Piccolomini, Aeneas Silvius, _see_ Pius II. Pico delia Mirandola, Giovanni _Piers Plowman_ Pigna, Giovanbattista _Pilgrim_ _Pinacoteca_ Pinturicchio, Bernardo Pio, Ercole Pius II, _Pope_ Plato _Podere_ _Poems Lyric and Pastoral_ _Poetical Diversions_ _Poetical Rhapsody_ _Poetics_ (Aristotle) _Poet's Willow_ _Poimenologia_ Poliziano (Angelo Ambrogini) Pollard, A. W. _Pollio_ Polo, Gaspar Gil Polybius _Polyolbion_ Ponce, Bartolomé Ponsonby, William Pontana, Accademia Pontano Pope, Alexander Porcacchi, Tommaso _Porta Pietatis_ _Primavera_ _Primelion_ _Prince d'Amour_ _Princesse de Clèves_ _Propugnatore_ _Prova amorosa_ Prynne, William Ptolemy Philadelphus Pulci, Bernardo Pulci, Luca Pulci, Luigi _Pulicane_ _Purgatorio_ _Purple Island_ Puteanus (Hendrik van der Putten) Puttenham, (George?) Pynson, Richard Pyper, John

_Quadriregio_ Quaritch, Bernard Quarles, Francis _Queen's Arcadia_ _Quetten und Forschungen_

R., J. Raleigh, Walter Raleigh, Sir Walter _Rambler_ Ramsay, Allan Randolph, Thomas Rapin, René _Rapture_ Reid, J. S. Reinolds, _see_ Reynolds. Reissert, Oswald _Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_ René of Anjou Renier, R. Rennert, H. A. _Retrospective Review_ Reynolds, Henry Reynolds, John: Fellow of New College of Exeter author of _God's Revenge_ translator Reynolds, Sir John, Colonel _Rhodon and Iris_ Ribeiro, Bernardim _Rinaldo_ _Risposta al Malacreta_ _Robene and Makyne_ Robert of Sicily _Robin Hood and Little John_ _Robins et Marion_ Rodrígues de Lobo, Francisco Rollinson, Anthony _Roman de la Rose_ _Romeo and Juliet_ Rondinelli, Dionisio Ronsard, Pierre de _Rosalynde_ Rossi, Bartolommeo Rossi, Giovanni Vittorio Rossi, Vittorio Rota, Bernardino Rovere, Francesco Maria delia Rovere, Guidubaldo delia (Guidubaldo II), _Duke of Urbino_ Rowley, William Roxburghe Club Royden, Matthew _Royster Doyster_ Rozzi, Congrega dei Ruberto, Luigi _Rural Sports of the Nymph Oenone_ Russell, Lady Rutter, Joseph

S., E. S., H. J. (translater of the _Filli di Sciro_) S., J. (author of _Andromana_) Sâ de Miranda, Francisco de Sabie, Francis Sacchetti, Franco Sackville, Edward _Sacrifizio_ (Beccari) _Sacrifizio_ (Intronati masque) _Sacrifizio pastorale_ _Sad Shepherd_ Sagredo, Giovanni Saint-Pierre, Jacques Henri Bernardin de Saintsbury, George _Salices_ Salviati, Lionardo Samson, M. W. Sand, George Sandys, J. E. Sannazzaro, Jacopo Sansovino, F. San vitale, Gualtiero Sappho _Saturday Review_ Savio, Giovanni Schlegel, A. W. von Schönherr, J. G. Schucking, L. L. _Scilla's Metamorphosis_ Scott, Mary A. Scott, Sir Walter _Scyros_, see _Filli di Sciro_ Seneca _Selva d' amore_ _Selva sin amor_ Serassi, Pierantonio Serono, Orazio _Session of the Poets_ Settle, Elkanah Seward, Thomas Seyffert, Oskar _Sfortunato_ Sforza, Giovanni Sforza, Lodovico _Shadow of Sannazar_ Shakespeare, William Shakespeare Society Shepherd Tony _(pseud.)_ _Shepherd's Calendar_ _Shepherd's Complaint_ _Shepherd's Content_ _Shepherds' Holiday_ (Angel Day) _Shepherds' Holiday_ (Denny) _Shepherds' Holiday_ (Rutter) _Shepherd's Hunting_ _Shepherds' Masque_ _Shepherd's Ode_ _Shepherd's Oracle_ _Shepherd's Oracles_ _Shepherds' Paradise_ _Shepherd's Pipe_ _Shepherds' Sirena_ _Shepherd's Taies_ _Shepherd's Wife's Song_ Sherburne, Sir Edward Sherley, James _Ship of Fools_ Shuckburgh, E. S. _Sicelides_ Sidnam, Jonathan Sidney, Lady Sidney, Sir Philip _Siglo de Oro_ Signorelli, Luca Silesio, Mariano _Silvanus_ _Silver Age_ _Silvia_ (Fileno) _Silvia_ (Kynder) Sincerus, Actius, _see_ Sannazzaro, Jacopo. _Sir Clyomon and Sir Clamydes_ _Sirena_, see _Shepherds' Sirena._ Skeat, W. W. Skelton, John Smith, G. C. M. Smith, Homer Smith, William, 124. Solerti, Angelo Solisy Rivadeneira, Antonio de Sommer, H. O. _Somnium Puteani (Cornus, sive Phagesiposia Cimeria)_ _Song of Solomon_ Sophocles _Sophy_ Southampton, Earl of _Speeches at Bisham, &c._ Speed, John Spencer, Sir John Spenser, Edmund Speroni, Sperone Spinelli, A. G. Stanley, Ferdinando (Lord Strange) _Steel Glass_ Steele, Sir Richard Stesichorus Stevenson, R. L. Stiefel, A. L. Stockdale, Percival _Stonehenge_ Strange, Lord, _see_ Stanley, F. _Stultifera Navis_ Suckling, Sir Thomas Suidas _Summer's Last Will and Testament_ Summo, Faustino Surrey, Earl of (Henry Howard) _Sweet Sobs and Amorous Complaints_ Swinburne, A. C. Symonds, J. A.

T., I. Taccone, Baldassare Talbot, Sir George _Tale of Troy_ _Tancia_ Tansillo, Luigi _Tarlton's News out of Purgatory_ Tasso, Torquato Tatham, John Taylor, John _Taylor's Pastoral_ _Tears of the Muses_ Tebaldeo, Antonio _Tempest_ Texeda, Jerónimo de _Theatrum Poetarum_ Theocritus Thomason, George Thorndike, A. H. _Thracian Wonder_ Thynne, William Tibullus Ticknor, George _Timone_ Tiraboschi, Girolamo _Tirena_ _Tirsi_ _Titirus and Galathea_ Tofte, Robert _Tottel's Miscellany_ _Townley mysteries_ _Triumph of Beauty_ _Triumph of Peace_ _Triumph of Virtue_ Torraca, Francesco Turberville, George Turnbull, W. B. _Twelfth Night_ _Tivo Gentlemen of Verona_ _Two Noble Kinsmen_

Ugolino, Braccio Ulloa, Alonzo de _Under der linden_ Underhill, J. G. Uniti, Accademia degli Urceo Urfe, Honoré d'

_Valle tenebrosa_ (_Vallis Opaca_) Valle, Cesare della Valois, House of Vega, Lope de _Vendemmiatore_ _Venus and Adonis_ _Verato_ _Verato secondo_ Vergil Vergna, Maria della, _see_ La Fayette, Comtesse de Vicente, Gil Vida, Marco Girolamo Villon, François _Volpone_ _Vuelta de Egypto_

W., A. Waldron, F. G. Walsingham, Sir Francis Walther von der Vogelweide Walton, Isaac _War without Blows and Love without Suit (? Strife)_ Ward, A. W. Warner, William Warton, Thomas Waterson, Simon Watson, Thomas, III Web, William, _Lord Mayor_ Webbe, William Weber, H. W. Webster, John Webster, William Weinberg, Gustav Weise, Berthold White, Edward Wicksteed, P. H. Wilcox, Thomas Wilde, George Wilson, H. Wilson, Thomas _Wily Beguiled_ Windscheid, Katharina Winstanley, William _Winter's Tale_ Wither, George Wolfe, John Wolsey, Thomas, _Cardinal_ _Woman in the Moon_ _Wonder of Women_ Wood, Anthony à Wotton, Sir John Wotton, Sir Henry Wyatt, Sir Thomas, the elder Wynkyn de Worde

Yong (or Young), Bartholomew

_Zanitonella_ Zinano, Gabriele Zola, Emil Zurla, Lodovico

Oxford: Horace Hart, Printer to the University.

Footnotes

[1] The often cited pastoralism of the _Song of Solomon_ resolves itself on investigation into an occasional simile. These argue familiarity with the scenes of pastoral life, but equally reveal the existence of the contrast in the mind of the writer. It was on the orthodox interpretation of this love-song that Remi Belleau founded his _Éclogues sacrées_, but they contain little or nothing of a pastoral nature. The same may be said of Drayton's paraphrase, included in his _Harmony of the Church_ in 1591, which is chiefly remarkable for the evident and honest pleasure with which he rendered the unsophisticated meaning of the original. It is, however, just possible that the Hebrew poem may have had some influence on pastoral poetry in Italy. There is a monograph on the subject by A. Abbruzzese, _Il Cantico dei Cantici in alcune parafrasi poetiche italiane: contributo alla storia del dramma pastorale_, which, however, I have not seen. With regard to possible Greek predecessors of Theocritus, it must be borne in mind that there were singing contests between shepherds at the Sicilian festival of Artemis, and it is possible that the competitors may have been sufficiently influenced by other orders of civilization to have given a definitely pastoral colouring to their songs. Little is known of their nature beyond the fact that they probably contained the motive of the lament for Daphnis, which appears to be as old as Stesichorus. They have perished all but two lines which are found prefixed by way of motto to the _Idyls_:

[Greek: δέξαι τὰν ἀγαθὰν τύχαν, δέξαι τὰν ὑγίειαν, ἃν φέρομεν παρὰ τᾶσ θεοῦ, ἃν ἐκαλέσσατο τήνα.]

What I have wished to emphasize above is the fact that because shepherds sang songs we have no reason to assume that these were distinctively pastoral. In later times the pastoral generally acknowledged a theoretical dependence on rustic song, and the popular compositions did actually now and again affect literary tradition. But this was rare.

[2] Details concerning the conception of the golden age will be found in Moorman's _William Browne_, p. 59.

[3] The tendency to form an ideal picture of his own youth is common both to mankind and man. The romance of childhood is the dream with which age consoles itself for the disillusionments of life. This it is that gives a peculiar appropriateness to the title of Mr. Graham's pictures of childhood in _The Golden Age_, a work of the profoundest insight and genius, as delightful as it is unique. I am not aware that there has ever been another author in English who could have written thus intimately of children without once striking a false note.

[4] There is some truth in the charge. Even Symonds wrote of Theocritus, possibly with Fontenelle's words in his mind: 'As it is, we find enough of rustic grossness on his pages, and may even complain that his cowherds and goatherds savour too strongly of their stables.' (_Greek Poets_, ii. p. 246.)

[5] Landscapes as decoration may be seen on the walls of the so-called Casa Nuova at Pompeii. It should be remarked that one idyl is addressed to Hiero, ruler of Syracuse, and it is quite possible that Theocritus may have been a frequent visitor there.

[6] Theocritus flourished in the first half of the third century B.C. Some authorities place the younger poets more than a hundred years later.

[7] Familiar to English readers through Matthew Arnold's translation.

[8] Suidas says that Moschus came from Sicily, and some authorities speak of him as a Syracusan. But in his 'Lament' he alludes to his 'Ausonian' song, apparently as distinguished from that of Theocritus 'of Syracuse.' The passage, however, is rendered obscure by an hiatus. Another tradition made Theocritus a native of the island of Cos. More probably it was between the time of his leaving Syracuse and that of his settling at Alexandria that he was the pupil of the Coan poet and critic, Philetas.

[9] Ernest Myers' version from Andrew Lang's delightful volume in the Golden Treasury Series.

[10] Placing the romance, that is, in the third century A.D. Authorities assign it to various dates from the second to the sixth centuries, according as they regard it as a model or an imitation of Heliodorus' work.

[11] A similar use of ἀναγνώρισις is very frequent in the Italian pastoral drama, where, however, it is more probably derived from Latin comedy.

[12] This was not the first Italian version of Longus. _Daphnis and Chloe_ had been translated directly from the Greek by Annibale Caro in the previous century.

[13] Two poems, written in close imitation of Theocritus' natural manner, and entitled respectively _Moretum_ and _Copa_, have sometimes, but wrongly, been attributed to Vergil.

[14] _Greek Poets_, ii. p. 265.

[15] Symonds speaks strongly on the point. 'Virgil not only lacks his [Theocritus'] vigour and enthusiasm for the open-air life of the country, but, with Roman bad taste, he commits the capital crime of allegorising.' (_Greek Poets_, ii. p. 247.)

[16] Seyffert's classical dictionary, as revised by Nettleship and Sandys (1899), definitely assigns Calpurnius to the middle of the first century. In that case the amphitheatre mentioned was no doubt the wooden structure that preceded the Colosseum.

[17] See, in Conington and Nettleship's _Virgil_, 1881, the essay on 'The Later Bucolic Poets of Rome,' in which will be found a detailed account of this very intricate controversy.

[18] It would appear that the two founders of the renaissance eclogue deliberately chose the Vergilian form as that best suited to their purpose. Petrarch calls attention to the advantages offered by the pastoral for covert reference to men and events of the day, since it is characteristic of the form to let its meaning only partially appear. He was therefore perfectly aware of the allegorical nature of the Vergilian eclogue, and adopted it for definite purposes of utility. Boccaccio is even more explicit, and I cannot do better than transcribe the very interesting summary of the history of pastoral verse down to his day, given in a letter addressed by him to Martino da Signa, which I shall again have occasion to mention in dealing with his own contributions to the kind. He writes: 'Theocritus Syracusanus Poeta, ut ab antiquis accepimus, primus fuit, qui Graeco Carmine Buccolicum escogitavit stylum, verum nil sensit, praeter quod cortex verborum demonstrat. Post hunc Latine scripsit Virgilius, sed sub cortice nonnullos abscondit sensus, esto non semper voluerit sub nominibus colloquentium aliquid sentiremus. Post hunc autem scripserunt et alii, sed ignobiles, de quibus nil curandum est, excepto inclyto Praeceptore meo Francisco Petrarca qui stylum praeter solitum paululum sublimavit et secundum Eclogarum suarum materias continue collocutorum nomina aliquid significantia posuit. Ex his ego Virgilium secutus sum quapropter non curavi in omnibus colloquentium nominibus sensum abscondere.' _Lettere di G. Boccaccio_, ed. Corazzini, 1877, p. 267.

[19] Line 1228. See Skeat's note in the _Athenæum_, March 1, 1902.

[20] On all points connected with these compositions see the elaborate monograph by Wicksteed and Gardner.

[21] Dante's poems do not stand altogether isolated in this respect. It would be possible to cite eclogues formerly ascribed to Mussato, as also some from the pens of Giovanni de Boni of Arezzo and Cecco di Mileto, in support of the above remarks. It is significant of their independence of medieval pastoralism, that Giovanni del Virgilio repeatedly speaks of Dante as the first to write bucolic poetry since Vergil, thus ignoring the whole production from Calpurnius to Metellus.

[22] Boccaccio was of course acquainted with Dante's eclogues, and in his life of the poet he allows them considerable beauty. It seems never to have occurred to him, however, to regard them as serious contributions to pastoral literature, for, as we have already seen, he stigmatizes all bucolic writers between Vergil and Petrarch as _ignobiles_. I do not think this attitude was due to the influence of Petrarch having lessened his admiration of Dante, as maintained by Wicksteed and Gardner, but simply to his recognition of the absolute unimportance of the poems in question from the historical point of view.

[23] In this connexion it will be remembered that Dante places Brutus and Cassius, the betrayers of Julius, in company with Judas, the betrayer of Christ, as arch-traitors in the innermost circle of hell (_Inferno_, xxxiv). He was no doubt influenced in this by his philosophical Ghibelline tendencies.

[24] The evolution of this idea, suggested of course by John X. II, can be clearly traced in the mosaics at Ravenna.

[25] So Hortis (_Scritti inediti di F. Petrarca_, pp. 221, &c.), who combats A. W. von Schlegel's view that the Epy of Eclogue VII stands for Avignon.

[26] This spelling was current for some centuries, Spenser among others adopting it. Indeed, _egloghe_ is still the prevalent form among Italian scholars.

[27] One other was discovered and published from MS. by Hortis, in his _Studi sulle opere latini_, p. 351.

[28] It is not impossible that Boccaccio may have begun composing eclogues before his acquaintance with Petrarch, since the influence of the poems sent by Dante to Giovanni del Virgilio has been traced in the eclogue printed by Hortis, and in an early version of the _Faunus_, as well as in the work of Boccaccio's correspondent, Cecco di Mileto.

[29] So Aeneas Sylvius, in his _De Remedio Amoris_, after a particularly virulent tirade against women, explained: 'De his loquor mulieribus quae turpes admittunt amores.'

[30] 'Syncerius' is the form used, but there can be little doubt who was intended.

[31] In the days when it was fashionable for men of learning to discuss the laws of pastoral composition, a certain northern giant fell foul of the Neapolitan's piscatory eclogues on somewhat theoretical grounds. Having never seen the blue smile of the bay of Naples, he suggested that the sea was an object of terror; forgetful of the monotonous setting of pastoral verse, he complained that the piscatory life offered little variety; finally, he contended that the technicalities of the craft were unfamiliar to readers--but are we to suppose that the learned author of the _Rambler_ was competent to tend a flock?

[32] They were at least the first to appear in print. The contributors were Girolamo Benivieni, of Florence, and Francesco Arsocchi and Fiorino Boninsegni, of Siena. The first possibly deserves mention as having introduced Pico della Mirandola as a character in his eclogues: some of the poems of the last are noteworthy as having been composed as early as 1468. There exists a poem by Luca Pulci on the story of Polyphemus and Galatea in the form of an eclogue. Luca died in 1470. Leo Battista Alberti, the famous architect, who died in 1472, also left a poem, which was published from MS. in 1850, with the heading 'Egloga.' This, however, proves not to be strictly pastoral. Among other early ventures were ten Italian eclogues in _terza rima_, by Boiardo. These, and also his ten Latin eclogues, will be found printed from MS. in his _Poesie volgari e latine_ (ed. A. Solerti, Bologna, 1894), while full accounts of both will be found in the essays contributed by G. Mazzoni and A. Campani to the _Studi su M. M. Boiardo_, edited by N. Campanini (Bologna, 1894). There can be no doubt that the court of Lorenzo was full of pastoral experiments in the vernacular for some time before the publication mentioned above.

[33] Having regard to the general character of the _Ameto_, I am not sure that it might not be possible to find some hidden meaning in the poem in question, if one were challenged to do so. The allegory is, however, mostly of the abstract kind, and the eclogue can hardly conceal allusions to any actual events.

[34] A very useful and representative, though of course by no means complete, collection is that by G. Ferrario, in the 'Classici italiani.'

[35] Castiglione also figured among the Latin eclogists of his day, and the influence of his _Alcon_ is even traced by Saintsbury in _Lycidas_ (_Earlier Renaissance_, p. 34).

[36] It is said to have been by way of penance for having written the _Vendemmiatore_ that he later undertook the composition of the _Lagrime di San Pietro_, a lengthy religious poem, which remained unfinished at his death in 1568.

[37] _La Beca_ is ascribed by mistake to Luca Pulci in the first edition of Symonds' _Renaissance_.

[38] The best imitation is said to be the _Lamento di Cecco da Varlungo_ by Francesco Baldovini (1643-1700), which is graceful, though rather more satiric in tone than its model.

[39] It differs, however, from most poems of the sort, in that the langnage of the fisher craft in Italy was capable of the same wantonly double meaning as was suggested to English writers by the name and terms of the noble art of venery. This serves to differentiate it from the style of pastoral, and suggests that we should rather class it along with such works as Berni's _Caccia d'amore._

[40] It is occasionally traceable in the French _pastourelles_, but that form of courtly composition never became popular south of the Alps. Its vogue passed completely with the decline of Provençal tradition. D'Ancona quotes one Italian example of the thirteenth century, the work of a Florentine, Ciacco dell' Anguillaja. It begins gracefully enough:

O gemma leziosa, Adorna villanella, Che se' più virtudiosa Che non se ne favella, Per la virtude ch' hai Per grazia del Signore, Aiutami, che sai Che son tuo servo, amore.

[41] Further evidence of the popularity of this poem will be found in the existence of a religious parody beginning:

O vaghe di Gesù, o verginelle, Dove n' andate si leggiadre e belle?

(_Laude spirituali di Feo Belcari_, &c., Firenze, 1863, p. 105.) It is founded on the fourteenth ceutury, not on the popular, version.

[42] The foregoing remarks follow very closely Symonds' treatment in the third chapter of his _Italian Literature_. In point of fact, I lit on Donati's poem quite accidentally, before reading the chapter in question, but I have made no scruple of availing myself of his guidance wherever it was to be had.

[43] Symonds has some very severe strictures on these songs from the moral point of view. Judging from the actual songs themselves his remarks would appear somewhat exaggerated, but if we take into consideration the historical circumstances they are probably amply justified.

[44] It is perhaps worth putting in a word of warning against the possible confusion of this poem with Politian's Latin composition bearing the same title. Ambra was a rustic resort in the neighbourhood of Florence, to which Lorenzo was much attached. By the lover Lauro the author seems to have meant himself. At least this is rendered probable by some lines near the end of Politian's poem, in which the villa is again personified as a nymph:

Et nos ergo illi grata pietate dicamus Hanc de Pierio contextam flore coronam, Quam mihi Caianas inter pulcherrima nymphas Ambra dedit patriae lectam de gramine ripae: Ambra mei Laurentis amor, quam corniger Vmbro, Vmbro senex genuit domino gratissimus Arno: Vmbro suo tandem non erupturus ab alneo. (_Opera,_ Basel, 1553, p. 581.)

[45] He was born at Montepulciano in 1454, and died, at the age of forty, two years after Lorenzo.

[46] Symonds, _Renaissance_, iv. p. 232, note 3.

[47] It has been sometimes thought that the description of Mars in the lap of Venus, in stanzas 122-3, suggested Botticelli's picture in the National Gallery; but, though the lines are worthy of having inspired even a more successful example of the painter's art, the resemblance is in this case too general to warrant any such conclusion.

[48] A favourite phrase of his. 'What has been well called _la voluttà idillica_--the sensuous sensibility to beauty, finding fit expression in the Idyll--formed a marked characteristic of Renaissance art and literature.' _Renaissance_, v. p. 170.

[49] The similar alternation of verse and prose found in the French and Provençal _cante-fables,_ notably in _Aucassin et Nicolette,_ is of a different nature, for in them the prose served properly to explain and connect the verse-passages which contained the actual story, and it probably formed no part of the original composition.

[50] I quote from the handy edition of Boccaccio's _Opere minori_ in the 'Biblioteca classica economica.' The passages cited above will be found on pp. 246 and 250, or in the _Opere volgari_, 1827-34. xv. pp. 186 and 194.

[51] It is probably no accident that, like Dante's poem, Boccaccio's romance is styled a 'comedy.' Both represent, in allegorical form, the ascent of the human soul from sin, through purgation, to the presence of God.

[52] It has been suggested that there is a gradual spiritualization in the motives of the tales; but this would appear to be a somewhat fanciful view.

[53] Proemio, _Opere minori_, p. 145; _Opere volgari_, xv. p. 4.

[54] _Opere minori_, p. 176, _Opere volgari_, xv. p. 60.

[55] While greatly shortening the passage, and taking considerable liberties in the way of paraphrase, I have endeavoured, as far as possible, to preserve the style and diction of the original. This will be found in the _Opere minori_, pp. 213, &c., _Opere volgari_, xv. pp. 126, &c.

[56] The description of the spring is from Ovid, _Metamorphoses_, III, 407, &c. No doubt a great deal more could be traced to Latin sources.

[57] For details concerning tree-lists see Moorman's _William Brown_, p. 154.

[58] Dunlop's notion of the verse being the important part, and the prose only written to connect the varions eclogues, is clearly wrong. Verse started by being subordinate in Boccaccio's romance, and remained so in all subsequent examples.

[59] _Prosa_ VIII. The whole passage was versified in Spanish by Garcilaso, whence a portion found its way into Googe's eclogues. Among other ingenions devices Sannazzaro mentions that of pinning down a crow by the extremity of its wings and waiting for it to entangle its fellows in its claws. If any reader should be tempted to imagine that the author has been drawing on a fertile imagination, let him turn to the adventures of one Morrowbie Jukes, as related by Mr. Rudyard Kipling, for a description of this identical method of crow-catching as practised on the banks of an Indian stream.

[60] It may be well to point out that at times, as in Carino's invocation to the Dryads, Symonds has infused into his version a beauty of diction of which Sannazzaro appears to be innocent.

[61] The _Arcadia_ must have been extant in its original form as early as 1481, when it served as model for the eclogues of Pietro Jacopo de Jennaro. The earliest known MS. dates from 1489, and contains the first ten _Prose_ and _Ecloghe_. In this form it was surreptitiously printed in 1502; the complete work first appeared in 1504. The earliest commentary, that of Tommaso Porcacchi, appeared in 1558, and went through several editions. An elaborate variorum edition was printed at Padua in 1723. I have followed the text in the 'Classici italiani.'

[62] Arcadia had been called 'the mother of flocks' in the Homeric _Hymn to Pan_, and Polybius had described the softening effects of music upon its rude inhabitants. See some interesting remarks on the snbject by J. E. Sandys, in his lectures on the _Revival of Learning_, Cambridge, 1905; also J. P. Mahaffy, _Rambles and Studies_, ch. xii.

[63] Having had occasion in the course of the following pages to call attention to certain inaccuracies of Ticknor's, I should like in this place to record my indebtedness to what still remains the standard history of Spanish literature. I have likewise made free use of Fitzmaurice-Kelly's admirable monograph.

[64] _Don Quixote_, pt. ii. ch. 62.

[65] Calderon wrote an early play on the tale of Cephalus and Procris, which met, it is said, with success. It was entitled _Celos aun del aire matan_, and was styled a 'fiesta cantada.' Later in life he parodied it in the 'comedia burlesca' entitled _Cefalo y Pocris_ (sic). Neither play appears to have any connexion with the _Cefalo_ of Niccolò da Correggio (_v. post_, ch. iii). Both are printed in the third volume of Calderon's comedies in the 'Biblioteca de autores españoles,' 1848-50. The _Pastor fido_ will be found in vol. iv.

[66] Mr. Gosse has protested against the use of such terms as 'exotic' in connexion with products of literary art, and no doubt the word has been not a little abused. I employ it in its strict sense of 'introduced from abroad, not indigenons,' and without implying any critical censure.

[67] Though a Portuguese, and one of the most notable poets in his own dialect, much of his poetical work is in Castillan.

[68] So, at least, Theophilo Braga interprets what he calls 'o drama amoroso das Eclogas,' in his monograph on _Bernardim Ribeiro e o bucolismo_. Porto, 1897.

[69] Ticknor is responsible for an unfortunate error, and much consequent confusion, respecting this date. Some one had cited an imaginary edition of 1545. Of this Ticknor confessed ignorance, but stated that he had in his possession a copy consisting of 112 quarto leaves, printed at Valencia in 1542. This description applies exactly to the earliest edition extant in the British Museum, except in the matter of the date. There can be no doubt that this is a mistake. The date 1542 is intrinsically impossible. Fitzmaurice-Kelly, who himself dates the work 1558-9, points out that one of the songs refers to events which took place in 1554. The sudden crop of reprints, dated 1561 and 1562, proves the _Diana_ to have been then a new book, and inclines me to place the actual publication somewhat after the date suggested by Kelly. I may mention that Ticknor is also in error over the date of Ribeiro's work, which he assigns to 1557.

[70] See the collection of Latin student songs, _Gaudeamus! Carmina uagorum selecta in usum laetitiae_, Leipzig, 1879, p. 124.

[71] The novels alluded to will be found in the _Ecatommiti_, I. i, _Cent Nouvelles nouvelles_, No. 82, and _Novelle de' Novizi_, No. 12.

[72] _Knight of the Burning Pestle_, II. viii. (Dyce, ii. p. 172), and _The Pilgrim_, IV. ii. (Dyce, viii. p. 66).

[73] B. M., Roxburghe, III. 160, also II. 30.

[74] References are best given to F. J. Child's monumental collection, in five volumes, where all variants are printed. _Cowdenknows_ and the _Bonny May_ are No. 217; _The Knight and the Shepherd's Daughter_ 110, the _Bonny Ilynd_ 50, _Child Waters_ 63, _The Laird of Drum_ 236, _Lizie Lindsay_ 226, _Lizie Baillie_ 227, _Glasgow Peggie_ 228, and _Johnie Faa_ 200. No doubt further examples might be collected.

[75] Similar shepherd-scenes are found not only in French but even in Italian miracle plays. The tendency they indicate, however, is not traceable in later pastoral, as it is with us. That such representations as those of the Sienese 'Rozzi' formed no exception to this general statement I shall have to show later.

[76] For the literary history of the Wakefield cycle, see A. W. Pollard's admirable introduction to the edition published by the Early English Text Society.

[77] They also criticize the angels' singing in curiously technical language.

[78] Towneley Plays, XII. l. 377, &c., and l. 386, &c., cf. Vergil, _Bucolics_, IV. 6.

[79] It is perhaps necessary to define the above use of 'idealization' as that modification of photographie reality observable in all true art. It is only when the methods of art have become self-conscious that realism can become an end in itself.

[80] _An English Garner_: Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse, ed. A. W. Pollard, 1903, p. 87. The carol is from a MS. at Balliol College.

[81] The poem will be found in Arber's edition of the 'Miscellany,' p. 138, and in A. H. Bullen's reprint of _England's Helicon_, p. 56. In dealing with isolated poems I have quoted, wherever possible, from Bullen's reprints of the song books, &c.

[82] Forst = cared for.

[83] It first appeared as 'The Ploughman's Song' in the 'Entertainment at Elvetham' in 1591. This has been recently claimed for Lyly. Without expressing any opinion in this place as to the likelihood of such an ascription for the bulk of the piece, it may be remarked that the song in question is as like the rest of Breton's work in style as it is unlike anything to be found in Lyly's writings.

[84] Of all pedestrian, not to say reptilian, metres, this is perhaps the most intolerable; indeed, it was not until touched to new life by the genius of Blake that it deserved to be called a metre at all.

[85] See R. B. McKerrow's articles on the Elizabethan 'classical metres' in the _Modern Language Quarterly_ for December, 1901, and April, 1902, iv. p. 172, and v. p. 6.

[86] Eclogues i-iv were printed by Pynson, and the fifth by Wynkyn de Worde early in the century; i-iii were twice reprinted about 1550. Barclay died in 1552.

[87] Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini, afterwards Pope Pius II. I suppose that it is on account of this statement of Barclay's that English critics have constantly referred to the work as pastoral. It is nothing but a prose invective against court life.

[88] See Dyce's _Skelton_, Introduction, p. xxxvi.

[89] 'Eglogs Epytaphes, and Sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche.' Reprinted by Professer Arber from the Huth copy.

[90] The title of the collection as originally published is obviously ambiguous--is Shepheardes' to be considered as singular or plural? There is a tendency among modern critics to evade the difficulty in such cases by quoting titles in the original spelling. I confess that this practice seems to me both clumsy and pedantic. In the present case there can be little doubt that the title of Spenser's work was suggested by the _Calender of Shepherds_. On the other hand, I think it is likewise clear that the poet, in adopting it, was thinking particularly of Colin Clout--that he intended, that is, to call his poems 'the calender of the shepherd' (see first line of postscript), rather than 'the calender for shepherds.' I have therefore adopted the singular form. 'Calender' is, I think, a defensible spelling.

[91] The alternative view, which would make Spenser his own commentator, is not without supporters both in Germany and in this country. Even were the question, however, one of greater importance from our point of view, the 'proofs' so far adduced do not constitute sufficient of an _a priori_ case to justify discussion here.

[92] _Anglia_, iii. p. 266, and ix. p. 205.

[93] At the end of the _Calender_ Spenser placed as his motto 'Merce non mercede'--as merchandise, not for reward.

[94] On all questions relating to the _Shepherd's Calender_ see C. H. Herford's edition, to which I gratefully acknowledge my indebtedness. So far as I am aware, we possess no more admirable edition of any monument of English literature.

[95] Cf. the titles of Drayton's _Idea_ and Basse's MS. eclogues, _infra_.

[96] _Discoveries_, 1640 (-41), p. 116 (Gifford, 1875; § cxxv). The 'ancients,' as appears from the context, are Chaucer and Gower.

[97] _Apology for Poetry_, 1595; Arber's edition, p. 63.

[98] Even Sidney's authorities break down to some extent. Theocritus certainly modified the literary dialect in his pastoral idyls, and we may recall that when Vergil began his third eclogue with the line--

Die mihi, Damoeta, cuium pecus? an Meliboei?

a wit of Rome retorted:

Die mihi, Damoeta, 'cuium pecus?' anne Latinum?

Or again it may be asked whether Lorenzo de' Medici is not as good a name to conjure by as Jacopo Sannazzaro.

[99] Some of the eclogues are mucn more pronouncedly dialectal than others, but even within the limits of a single one, literary and dialectal forms may often be found used indiscriminately. See Herford's remarks on the subject.

[100] 'February,' l. 33, &c. Lines 35-6 contain one of the few direct reminiscences of Chaucer. Cf. _House of Fame_, II. 1225-6. Spenser repeated the imitation, _Faery Queen_, VI. ix. 43-5, and was followed by Fletcher, _Faithful Shepherdess_, V. v. 183-4.

[101] _Pastime of Pleasure_, xxxv. 6, from the edition of 1555 (Percy Soc., 1845, p. 113).

[102] In the above instance the rime is sacrificed, and I do not mean that all anomalous lines in Spenser's measure become strict decasyllables when done into ME.; indeed, they do so of course only by accident. My point is that Chaucer's verse as read by the sixteenth-century editors must have often contained just such unmetrical lines as Spenser's. The view I have indicated above is that accepted by W. J. Courthope (_History of English Poetry_, ii. p. 253). Herford, on the other hand, while having recourse to Chancer's influence to explain Spenser's anomalies, regards the metre in question as derived from the old alliterative line. From this view I am reluctantly forced to dissent. The alliterative line may be readily traced in the mystery cycles, and later influenced the verse of the interludes and such comedies as _Royster Doyster_; and this tradition may have affected the verse of the later poets of the school of Lydgate, and even the popular ideas concerning Chaucer's metre. But as to the actual origin of Spenser's four-beat line there can surely be no doubt.

[103] The late A. B. Grosart, in a passage which is a masterpiece of literary casuistry _(Spenser_, iii. p. lii.), put forward the truly astounding theory that the discussions on the evils of the clergy and similar subjects, put into the mouths of shepherds in the _Calender_ and elsewhere, are 'in nicest keeping with character.' Such a theory ignores the essence of the question, for, even supposing that shepherds had done nothing else but discuss the corruption of the Curia since there was a Curia to be corrupted, it is still utterly beside the mark. Apart from his own observation of ecclesiastical manners, Spenser's compositions have for their sole origin the similar discussions of the humanistic eclogues, while these in their turn did but cast the individual opinions of their authors into a conventional mould inherited from the classical poets. Thus, so far as actual shepherds are connected with Spenser's eclogues at all, they belong to an age when the Curia and all its sins were happily unknown.

[104] The MS. is now in the library of Caius College, Cambridge, and is contained in the volume numbered 595 in the catalogue. It is entitled _Poimenologia_. The dedication to William James, Dean of Christ Church, fixes the date as between 1584 and 1596. Dove became Master of Arts in 1586, and since he does not describe himself as such, the translation probably belongs to an earlier date. I am indebted for knowledge of and information concerning this MS. to the kindness of Prof. Moore Smith, and of Dr. J. S. Reid, Librarian of Caius College.

[105] Winstanley (_Lives of the English Poets_, 1687, p. 196) ascribes it to Sir Richard Fanshawe; but he was no doubt confusing it with the Latin version of the _Faithful Shepherdess_.

[106] _Faery Queen_, VII. vi. 349, &c.

[107] Somewhat similar episodes occur both in the _Orlando_ and the _Gerusalemme_, to the imitation of which, indeed, certain passages in Spenser can be directly referred.

[108] See A. H. Bullen's edition, two vols., 1890-91. The poems in question will be fonnd in vol. i, pp. 48, 58, 63 and 76.

[109] It is worth noting that in the last stanza all the early editions read 'Thenot' instead of 'Wrenock'; Thenot being the corresponding character in Spenser.

[110] Perhaps Anne Goodere: but the question is alien to our present discussion. Some of the allusions in the eclogues are obvious, and probably all the names, except perhaps the speaker's, conceal real personalities. In the _Muses' Elizium_, on the other hand, most of the names and characters appear to me fictitious. In connexion with the name 'Idea,' in which certain critics have wished to see a deep philosophical meaning, I would suggest that it may be nothing but the feminine of 'Idaeus,' that is, a shepherd of Mount Ida, a name found in the second eclogue of Petrarch. It is, however, true that the word 'idea' bore the meaning of 'an ideal,' in which sense, no doubt, we occasionally find it applied to England.

[111] Concerning translations of Watson's Latin poems, I may be allowed to refer to a paper contributed to the _Modern Language Quarterly_, February, 1904, vi. p. 125.

[112] Cf. the passage from Spenser's October eclogue, quoted on p. 88.

[113] A certain similarity between this poem and the song in _Love's Labour's Lost_, beginning:

On a day--alack the day!-- Love, whose month was ever May;

has caused them to be at times ascribed to Shakespeare. They are subscribed 'Ignoto' in _England's Helicon_, but appeared among the poems published with Barnfield's _Lady Pecunia_ in 1598, a tail of thirty lines of very inferior quality being substituted for the singularly perfect and effective final couplet. The poem appeared again in the following year in the _Passionate Pilgrim_, this time with both the couplet and the addition. The _Helicon_ version is certainly by far the best, and not improbably represents the poem as originally written in imitation of Shakespeare's. See J. B. Henneman's paper in _An English Miscellany_, Oxford, 1901.

[114] Gascoigne's _Steel Glass_ is far rather medieval in conception.

[115] Compare with the lines in _Rosalynd_, beginning 'Phoebe sat, sweet she sat,' those in _Tarlton's News out of Purgatory_, beginning, 'Down I sat, I sat down,' and see A. H. Bullen's _Poems from Elizabethan Romances_, 1890, p. xi.

[116] The copy of _Pan's Pipe_ in the British Museum wants the _Tale_, but this will be found by itself marked C. 40. e. 68 (2, 3).

[117] Collier and Hazlitt supposed two William Basses, but the balance of evidence seems against the theory. See S. L. Lee in _Dic. Nat. Biog_., and the edition by R. W. Bond, 1893.

[118] Fleay (_Biographical Chronicle_, i. p. 67) identifies Musidore with Lodge, and 'Hero's last Musaeus' with H. Petowe. The latter identification, which had already been proposed by Collier (_Bibliographical Account_, i. p. 130), is in all probability correct.

[119] Printed by me in the _Modern Language Quarterly_, July, 1901, iv. p. 85.

[120] These are missing in most copies of the book; the only one I know containing them is in the Bodleian.

[121] I do not know who started the idea. It was mentioned in the _Retrospective Review_ (ii. p. 180) in 1820, accepted by Sommer, and elaborated with small success by K. Windscheid. Masson makes no mention of it in his edition of Milton's poetical works. The author of _Lycidas_ was probably a reader and admirer of Browne's poems, but of _Britannia's Pastorals_ rather than of the decidedly inferior eclogues.

[122] The _Arcadian Princess_, translated by Brathwaite from Mariano Silesio, a kind of metaphorical manual of judicial polity, is in no way pastoral. It may be remarked that in 1627 there appeared as the work of one I. D. B. an 'Eclogue, ou Chant Pastoral,' on the marriage (1625) of Charles and Henrietta Maria, in which two Scotch Shepherds, Robin and Jacquet, discourse in French Alexandrines. _Taylor's Pastoral_ of 1624 again, a fanciful treatise of religious and secular history, does not properly belong to pastoral tradition.

[123] One of these appeared two years previously, entitled _The Shepherd's Oracle_.

[124] Appended to the third edition of the _Arcadia_, 1598.

[125] Appended to the _Arcadia_ in 1613.

[126] _Arcadia_, 1590, fol. 237 verso.

[127] _Opera_, Basel, 1553, p. 622.

[128] The song is said to be between 'two nymphs, each answering other line for line'; but the simple alternation adopted by Spenser makes nonsense of the present poem. The above arrangement seems to distribute the lines best; viz. the first quatrain to Phillis, with interposition of lines 2 and 4 by Amaryllis, the second quatrain to Amaryllis, with interposition of line 2 only by Phillis.

[129] Others in the _Passionate Pilgrim_, 1599, and Walton's _Complete Angler_, 1653.

[130] So, rather than 'Fair-lined,' as Bullen prints; but query 'Fur-lined.'

[131] This is the text of _England's Helicon_, which is superior to that in the play, except for the omission of the couplet in brackets, and possibly in the reading 'hath sworn' for 'is sworn,' in l. 11.

[132] From E. K. Chambers' _English Pastorals_, p. 113. The date is uncertain, but a tune of the name was extant in 1603. The earliest recorded text is a broadside, of about 1650, in the Roxburghe collection (III. 142). The conjecture of an 'original issue, _circa_ 1600,' is on the whole plausible. In that case there was, somewhere, a poet capable of anticipating the particular cadences of _Sirena_ and _Agincourt_, and that poet is more likely to have been Drayton than another. See Ebsworth's edition for the Ballad Society (_Roxburghe Ballads_, vi. p. 460).

[133] _Lycidas_ is almost too familiar, one might suppose, to need comment, but such irreconcilable views have been held by different authorities, from Dr. Johnson onwards, that it may not be idle to attempt to view the work critically in relation to pastoral tradition as a whole.

[134] When Johnson went on to describe the form of the poem as 'easy, vulgar, and therefore disgusting,' he was but exhibiting a critical incapacity which seriously impairs his authority in literary matters.

[135] For a detailed account of the poem, as well as for a number of parallel passages--as well as some of doubtful relevance--the reader may be referred to F. W. Moorman's monograph. I use the text of G. Goodwin's edition of Browne's poems, with introduction by A. H. Bullen, 2 vols., 1894.

[136] K. Windscheid professes to discover a different hand in the third book, and is inclined to ascribe it to some imitator of Browne. Its merit is certainly not high, but it is no worse than parts of the former books; and Browne's work is so notoriously unequal that I can see no excuse for depriving or relieving him of its authorship.

[137]

The hatred which they bore was only this, That every one did hate to do amiss; Their fortune still was subject to their will; Their want--O happy!--was the want of ill. (II. iii. 447.)

Many readers may be inclined to pity poor men and women debarred from that

First of all joys that unto sin belong-- The sweet felicity of doing wrong.

[138] Pail.

[139] The translater was afterwards knighted. Who was the first person to ascribe this translation to Thomas Wilcox, a certain 'very painful minister of God's word,' I am not sure. The mistake has, however, been constantly repeated, and led Underhill, in his able monograph on _Spanish Literature in England_, to give a detailed account of Wilcox and his wholly chimerical connexion with the spread of Spanish influence in this country. The translation is preserved in the British Museum, Addit. MS. 18,638, and contains the translator's name perfectly clearly written, both on the title-page and at the end of the dedicatory epistle to Fulke Greville. This MS. is a copy of the original made by the translator himself about 1617, and bears on the fly-leaf the name 'Dorothy Grevell.' The title-page is worth transcribing: 'Diana de Monte mayor done out of Spanish by Thomas Wilsõ Esquire, In the yeare 1596 & dedicated to the Erle of Southamptõ who was then uppon y'e Spanish voiage w'th my Lord of Essex--Wherein under the names and vailes of Sheppards and theire Lovers are covertly discoursed manie noble actions & affections of the Spanish nation, as is of y'e English of [_sic_] y't admirable & never enough praised booke of S'r. Phil: Sidneyes Arcadia.'

[140] Arber's edition, p. 83.

[141] See the useful table of correspondences given by Homer Smith in his paper on the _Pastoral Influence in the English Drama_. All needful apparatus for the study of the story will of course be found in Furness' 'Variorum' edition of the play.

[142] Macaulay once remarked of the _Faery Queen_, that few and weary are the readers who are in at the death of the Blatant Beast. It might with equal or even greater force be contended that most readers are asleep ere the Arcadian princesses in Sidney's romance are rescued from the power of Cecropia.

[143] Into purely bibliographical questions, such as the history of the Edinburgh edition of 1599, it is of course impossible to enter here.

[144] Letter in the State Papers. See Introduction to Sommer's facsimile of the first edition, 1891.

[145] Conversations with Drummond, X. Shakespeare Society, 1842, p. 10.

[146] K. Brunhuber, to whose work on the _Arcadia_ (_Sir Philip Sidneys Arcadia und ihre Nachläufer_, 1903) I am in a measure indebted, failing to find many specific borrowings, is inclined to make light of Montemayor's influence. There can, however, be little question that, in general style and conception, Sidney, while influenced by the Greek romance, yet belonged essentially to the Spanish school.

[147] Analyses of the _Arcadia_ will be fouud in all works upon the novel from Dunlop to J. J. Jusserand and W. Raleigh. Perhaps the fullest, which is also provided with copious extracts, is that in the _Retrospective Review_, 1820, ii. p. 1.

[148] An allegorical interpretation certainly found favour among the critics of the time, and was advanced by Puttenham in his _Art of English Poesy_ (1589), even before the publication of the romance. See also Thomas Wilson's allusion on the title-page of his translation from the _Diana_, given above (p. 141, note).

[149] A critical edition remains, however, a desideratum.

[150] See Jusserand's _English Novel in the time of Shakespeare_, 1890, p. 274.

[151] The later fashionable pastoral of French origin, with the _Astrée_ as its type and chief representative, does not concern us, or at most concerns us so indirectly as not to warrant our lingering over it here.

[152] I should at once say that the view of the development of the pastoral drama adopted above is not endorsed by all scholars. To have set forth at length the considerations upon which it is based would have swollen beyond all bounds an introductory section of my work. Since, however, the question is one of considerable interest, I have added what I believe to be a fairly full and impartial discussion in the form of an appendix.

[153] 'Orfeo cantando giugne all' Inferno' is one of the stage directions.

[154] For an elaborate example (1547) of this kind of stage, on which various localities were simultaneously represented, see Petit de Julleville, _Histoire de la langue et de la littérature française_, ii. pp. 416-7.

[155] Concerning the play see the account given by Symonds, together with his admirable translation in _Sketches and Studies in Italy and Greece_, ii. p. 345, also an elaborate essay, 'L'Orfeo del Poliziano alla corte di Mantova,' by Isidoro del Lungo, in the _Nuova antologia_ for August, 1881, and A. D'Ancona, _Origini del teatro italiano_, ii. pp. 2 and 106. The standard edition of Poliziano's Italian works, that by Carducci, is unfortunately not in the British Museum.

[156] A note concerning the use of the term 'nymph' may save confusion. Creizenach remarks that the introduction of a nymph as the beloved of a shepherd is a peculiarity of the renaissance pastoral which manifestly owes its origin to Boccaccio's _Ninfale fiesolano_ (_Geschichte des neueren Dramas_, ii. p. 196). In so far as this view implies that the 'nymphs' of pastoral convention are the same order of beings as those either of the _Ninfale_ or of classical myth, it appears to me utterly erroneous. The 'nymphs' who love the shepherds in the renaissance pastorals are nothing but shepherdesses. The confusion no doubt began with Boccaccio. The nymph of Diana in the _Ninfale_ is, as we have already seen, nothing but a nun in pagan disguise. The nymphs of the _Ameto_ are represented as of the classical type, but their amorous confessions reveal them as in nowise differing from mortal woman. The gradual change in the connotation of the word is one of the results of the blending of Christian and classical ideas. The original elemental or local spirits even in Greek myth acquired some of the characteristics of votaries (as in the legeud of Calisto), and these Christian tradition tended to accentuate, while popular romance, and in many cases contemporary manners, facilitated the connecting of such characters with tales of secret passion. Gradually, however, the idea of illicit love gave place to one merely of unrestrained natural desire, the religious elements of the character were forgotten as the supernatural had been earlier, and 'nymph' came to be no more than the feminine of 'shepherd' in an ideal society which by its freedom of intercourse, as by its honesty of dealing, presented a complete contrast to the polished circles of aristocratic Italy.

[157] A small circular picture in _chiaroscuro_ among the arabesques of the _cappella nova_ in the cathedral at Orvieto. It represents the youthful Orpheus crowned with the laureate wreath playing before Pluto and Proserpine upon a fiddle or crowd of antique pattern. At his feet lies Eurydice, while around are spirits of the other world.

[158] In some passages of this speech the resemblance with Ovid is very close:

famaque si ueteris non est mentita rapinae, uos quoque iunxit Amor... omnia debentur nobis, paulumque morati serius aut citius sedem properamus ad unam... haec quoque, cum iustos matura peregerit annos, iuris erit uestri; pro munere poscimus usum. quod si fata negant ueniam pro coniuge, certum est nolle redire mihi: leto gaudete duorum. (_Met_. x. 28, &c.)

[159] Cf. _Amores_, II. xii, ll. 1, 2, 5, and 16.

[160] This interpretation of the passion of Orpheus, characteristic as it is of renaissance thought, was not original. Though unknown in early times, it is found in Phanocles, a poet probably of the third or fourth century B. C.

[161] So original: revision 'oè oè.'

[162] The earliest edition I have seen is that contained in the 'Opere' of June 10, 1507, where the heading runs: 'Fabula di Caephalo cõposta dal Signor Nicolo da Correggia a lo Illustrissimo. D. Hercole & da lui repsentata al suo florẽtissimo Populo di Ferrara nel. M. cccc. lxxxvi. adi. xxi. Ianuarii.' In this edition, printed at Venice by Manfrido Bono de Monteferrato, the works are said to be 'Stampate nouamente: & ben corrette.' Bibliographers record no edition previous to 1510. The date in the heading is either a misprint, or refers to the year 1486-7 according to the Venetian reckoning. See D'Ancona, _Origini del teatro_, ii. p. 128-9. Symonds (_Renaissance_, v. p. 120) quotes some Latin lines as from the prologue to this play. This is an error. He has misread D'Ancona, to whom he refers (ed. 1877), and from whom he evidently copied the quotation. The lines actually occur in the prologue to a Latin play on the subject of the taking of Granada.

[163] Rossi, _Battista Guarini ed il Pastor Fido_, 1886, p. 171, note 2.

[164] I do not, of course, mean that no mythological plays were produced between the days of Correggio and those of Beccari, but that they show no signs of consistent development in a pastoral or indeed in any other direction.

[165] _Il Verato secondo_, 1593, p. 206.

[166] _Compendio della poesia tragicomica, tratto dai duo Verati_, 1602, pp. 49-50.

[167] In this and the following section I have used the texts of the exceedingly useful collection of _Drammi de' boschi_ in the 'Biblioteca classica economica,' which comprises the _Aminta, Pastor fido, Filli di Sciro_, and _Alceo_.

[168] Symonds, in dealing with Tasso in the sixth volume of his _Italian Renaissance_, lays, to my mind very justly, considerable stress upon this quality.

[169] Quoted by Serassi, Tasso's biographer, in his preface to the Bodoni edition of the play (Crisopoli, 1789), p. 8.

[170] See Angelo Solerti, _Vita di T. Tasso_, Torino, Loescher, 1895, i. p. 181, &c. Carducci, 'Storia dell' _Aminta_,' the third of the _Saggi_, 80, 1st edition.

[171] Leigh Hunt pointed out, in some interesting if rather uncritical remarks prefixed to his translation of the _Aminta_ (London, 1820), that some at any rate of the regular choruses cannot have formed part of the original composition. In fact the first edition (Aldus, 1581) contains those to Acts I and V only; that to Act II appeared in the second edition (Ferrara, 1581), and also in the collected _Rime_ (Aldus, 1581); the rest were added in the Aldine quarto of 1590.

[172] Supposing always that this representation, of which Filippo Baldinucci, in his _Notizie dei professori del disegno_ (sec. iv, dec. vii; 1688, p. 102), has left a glowing account, was a representation of the _Aminta_, and not, as some have maintained, of the _Intrichi d' amore_, another play sometimes ascribed to Tasso.

[173] Amore had already spoken the prologue to Lodovico Dolce's _Dido_; and a mythological play by Sannazzaro, of which the opening alone is extant, introduces Venus in pursuit of her son, and warning the ladies of the audience against his wiles (Creizenach, ii. p. 209). The prologue to the _Pastor fido_ is put into the mouth of the river-god Alfeo, that of Bonarelli's _Filli di Sciro_, which begins with another Ovidian reminiscence (_Amores_, I. xiii. 40), and was written by Marino, is spoken by a personification of night, that of Ongaro's _Alceo_ by Venus, of Castelletti's _Amarilli_ by 'Apollo in habito pastorale,' of Cristoforo Lauro's _Frutti d'amore_ by Janus in similar garb, of Cesana's _Prova amoroso_, by Hercules. The list might be extended indefinitely. Contarini, at the beginning of the next century, followed precedent less closely; his _Finta Fiammetta_ has a dramatic prologue introducing Venus, Cupid, Anteros (the avenger of slighted love), and a chorus of _amoretti_; that of his _Fida ninfa_ is spoken by the shade of Petrarch.

[174] Most of the identifications made by Menagio in his edition, Paris, 1650, have generally been accepted since, except by Fontanini, who would identify Pigna with Mopso. There seems, however, to be little doubt possible on the point, though it is not to Tasso's credit. For an audience conversant with the inner life of the court, the references to Elpino contained whole volumes of contemporary scandal. In Licori we may see Lucrezia Bendidio. This lady, the wife of Count Paolo Machiavelli, and sister-in-law of Guarini, is said to have been the mistress of Cardinal Luigi d' Este; but Pigna, too, courted her, and brooked no rivalry on the part of fledgling poets. Tasso appears to have paid her imprudent attention in the early days of his residence at Ferrara, and thus incurred the secretary's wrath. The princess Leonora remonstrated with her poet on his folly, and Tasso, by way of palinode, wrote a fulsome commentary on three of Pigna's wooden _canzoni_, ranking them with Petrarch's. Tasso is appareutly allnding to this incident when he puts into Elpino's mouth the words:

Quivi con Tirsi ragionando andava Pur di colei che nell' istessa rete Lui prima e me dappoi ravvolse e strinse; E preponendo alla sua fuga, al suo Libero stato il mio dolce servigio. (V. i. 61.)

The origin of the name 'Licori' may possibly, as Carducci points out (p. 94), be sought in an epigram, _Ad Licorim_, found among Pigna's Latin _Carmina_ (1553). The whole incident throws a curious light on the pettiness of the Ferrarese Court, a characteristic in which it was, however, not peculiar. (See Rossi, pp. 34, &c.) It is perhaps worth while mentioning that by the _antro dell' Aurora_ was no doubt intended the room in the castle, said to have formed part of the private apartments of Leonora, still known as the _sala dell' Aurora_, from a wretched fresco on the ceiling by the local artist Dosso Dossi.

[175] _Aminta_, I. i; _Canace_, IV. ii.

[176] _Lettere del Guarini_, Veneta, Ciotti, 1615, p. 92. See Rossi, 56^{1}

[177] I have already had occasion to point out that, from the time of Boccaccio onwards, a nymph of Diana might represent a nun, but the whole of Silvia's relations with Dafne make it plain that she is in no way vowed to virginity. Her being represented as a follower of Diana implies no more than that she is fancy-free, and so in a sense under the protection of the virgin goddess. This use of the phrase is as old as Theocritus: 'Artemis, be not wrathful, thy votary breaks her vow' (_Idyl_ 27). And it is so used by Silvia herself in her proud and petulant retort to Aminta: 'Pastor, non mi toccar; son di Diana' (III. i).

[178] The idea passed from Italian into English verse:

tell me why This goblin 'honour,' by the world enshrined, Should make men atheists, and not women kind--

to improve upon the exceedingly neat bowdlerization which the Rev. J. W. Ebsworth has sought to palm off as the genuine text of Tom Carew.

[179] We have, in the passages quoted, a foretaste of the priggish extravagance of the _Faithful Shepherdess_. That there should have been found critics to combine just but wholly otiose condemnation of Cloe with reverential appreciation of the absurdities of Clorin and Thenot, and to clap applause to the self-conscious virtue, little removed from smugness, in which the 'moral grandeur' of the Lady of the Ludlow masque is clothed, is indeed a striking witness to the tyranny of conventional morality. If virginal purity were in fact the hypocritical convention which it is to some extent possible to condone in the _Aminta_, but which becomes wholly loathsome in the work of Fletcher, the sooner it disappeared from the region of practical ethics the better for the moral health of humanity.

[180] Menagio's edition is said to have appeared in 1650, but I have only seen the edition of 1655, which I also notice is the date given by Weise and Pèrcopo (p. 319). The play is said to have been printed in Italy alone some two hundred times; there are twenty French translations, five German, at least nine English, several in Spanish and other languages. A version in the Slavonic Illyrian dialect appeared in 1598; a Latin one in iambic trimeters by Andrea Hiltebrando, a Pomeranian physician, in 1615; another in modern Greek in 1745. See Carducci, p. 99.

[181] Published, together with Paglia's reply, by Antonio Bulifon in his _Lettere memorabili_, Naples, 1698, iii. p. 307. The play had already been adversely criticized by Francesco Patrizi and Gian Vincenzo Gravina.

[182] 'L'Aminta difeso e illustrato da G. Fontanini,' Roma, 1700. Another edition appeared in 1730 at Venice, with further annotations by Uberto Benvoglienti.

[183] It is, however, perfectly true that the play, together with the writings in its defence and the notes, to be considered later, occupied the attention of the author for a period of fully twenty years, and it is possibly thus that the tradition arose. I may say that throughout this section I am under deep obligations to Rossi's monograph.

[184] Rossi, p. 183. I shall return to the point.

[185] In later days he was often called Giovanbattista, but the addition is without authority, in spite of its appearance in the British Museum catalogue.

[186] This preliminary history is drawn, as Guarini himself points out in his notes of 1602, from Pausanias (VII. 21), though less closely than he there implies. The rest of the plot he claimed as original, but it is to a large extent merely a rehandling of the same motive.

[187] Carino is said to represent Guarini in the same manner as Tirsi does Tasso.

[188] There is a legend that this scene was placed on the Index. This, anyhow, cannot refer to the _Index Librorum Prohibitorum_, but only to the _Index Expurgatorius_, which was at no time an officiai publication. But the whole story appears to be without foundation.

[189] In comparing the two pieces, it is worth remembering that, whereas the _Aminta_ contains about 2,000 lines, the _Pastor fido_ runs to close upon 7,000.

[190] _Storia della letteratura italiana nel secolo XVI_, Milano, 1880, pp. 244-7. See Rossi, p. 264. His argument is that it anticipated a revolt against the conventional nature of domestic love, reflecting better than any other dramatic work the ideas that towards the end of the _cinquecento_ were, according to him, leading in the direction of a moral regeneration of Italian Society. It is, however, difficult to reconcile his theory with what we know of Italy in the days of the counter-reformation; while it may at the same time be doubted whether a tone of anaemic sentimentality is, in itself, preferable to one of cynical convention. It should be added that there is little regeneration of domestic love to be found in the partly pathetic and partly sordid tragedy of Guarini's own family.

[191] The quotations are from the opening scene of either play. The parallel is that selected by Symonds for quotation, and is among the most striking examples of Guarini's method, but similar instances might be collected from almost every scene.

[192] G. B. Manso, _Vita di T. Tasso_, Venezia, Denchino, 1621, p. 329. Carducci, p. 99.

[193] 'Il Pastor Fido Tragicomedia Pastorale di Battista Guarini, Dedicata al Ser'mo. D. Carlo Emanuele Duca di Sauoia, &c. Nelle Reali Nozze di S. A. con la Ser'ma. Infante D. Caterina d'Austria.' The tradition of a performance on this occasion dates from early in the seventeenth century, and is endorsed by the poet's nephew and biographer, Alessandro Guarini. It is in part due to a confusion of words: the play was _presentato_, but not _rappresentato_.

[194] Guarini, _Lettere_, Venetia, Ciotti, 1615, p. 174. Rossi, 228^{7}.

[195] At least one of these, a worthless production by a certain Niccolo Averara, is extant. That of 1598 was probably spoken by Hymen. Rossi, pp. 232-3.

[196] It has sometimes been supposed that the Baldini edition, Ferrara, 1590, was the earlier, but Guarini's letter is conclusive.

[197] Of this edition the British Museum possesses a magnificent copy on large and thick paper, bearing on the title-page the inscription: 'Al Ser^{mo}. Principe di Vinegia Marin Grimani,' showing that it was the presentation copy to the Doge at the time of publication. Another copy on large but not on thick paper is in my own possession, and has on the title-page the remains of a similar inscription beginning apparently 'All Ill^{mo} et R^{mo}...' I rather suspect it of being the copy presented to the ecclesiastic, whoever he was, who represented the Congregation of the Index at Venice. Innumerable editions followed; I have notes of no less than fifty during the half-century succeeding publication, i.e. 1590-1639.

[198] The authorship of the notes is placed beyond doubt by a letter of Guarini's, otherwise it might have been doubted whether even he could have been guilty of the fulsome self-laudation they contain. On the controversy see Rossi, pp. 238-43.

[199] Certain modern writers have shown themselves worthy descendants of the criticaster of Vicenza by insisting that the play should properly be called the _Pastorella fida_. Guarini was weak enough to reply to Malacreta's carpings in his notes, and thereby exposed himself to similar attacks from posterity.

[200] The absurdity lies of course in the commanding merit ascribed to the piece. As Saintsbury has pointed out in his _History of Criticism_, had Aristotle known the romantic drama of the renaissance, the _Poetics_ would have been largely another work.

[201] Summo evidently thought that Pescetti's defence at least was the work of Guarini himself. There is no evidence that this was so, but Rossi considers it not improbable that Guarini at least directed the labours of his supporters.

[202] It is unnecessary to enter into any further discussion of these plays. The following titles, however, quoted by Stiefel in his review of Rossi, may be mentioned. Scipione Dionisio, _Amore cortese_, 1570 (?) (not the Alessandro Dionisio whose _ecloga_, entitled _Amorosi sospiri_, with intermezzos of a mythological character, was printed in 1599); Niccolò degli Angeli, _Ligurino_, 1574 (so Allacci, _Drammaturgia_, 1755; the only edition in the British Museum is dated 1594; Venus and Silenus are among the characters, and the prologue is spoken by 'Tempo'); Cesare della Valle, _Filide_, 1579; Giovanni Fratta, _La Nigella_, 1580; Cristoforo Castelletti, _Amarilli_, 1580 (which edition, though given by Allacci, appears to be now unknown, as is also the date of composition; a second edition appeared in 1582; the prologue was spoken by 'Apollo in habito pastorale,' and Ongaro contributed a commendatory sonnet); Giovanni Donato Cuchetti, _La Pazzia_, 1581; Pietro Cresci, _Tirena_, 1584; Alessandro Mirari, _Mauriziano_, 1584; Dionisio Rondinelli, _Galizia_, 1583 (his _Pastor vedovo_ was printed in 1599, with a prologue spoken by 'Primavera,' and an echo scene).

[203] Preface to the Bodoni edition of the _Aminta_, p. 12.

[204] This episode of the double love of Celia formed the subject of an attack on the play. The author wrote an elaborate defence which was printed at Ancona in 1612. It runs to 221 quarto pages.

[205] I am aware that attempts have been made to find evidence of Italian influence in Lyly, but of this later.

[206] The piece appeared anonymously, but the authorship is attested by Nashe in his preface to Greene's _Menaphon_, 1589. Some songs from the play also appear over Peele's signature in _England's Helicon_, 1600. I have quoted from A. H. Bullen's edition of Peele's works, 2 vols. 1888.

[207] Fraunce's translation in his _Ivychurch_ (_vide post_), and J. Wolfe's edition, together with the _Pastor fido_, both 1591.

[208] Like Dove. Cf. p. 98.

[209] i.e. coupled impartially with its reward.

[210] Umpire.

[211] Groves.

[212] The entry of the piece to R. Jones, on July 26, 1591, in the Stationers' Register, coupled with the fact that _England's Parnassus_ quotes almost entirely from printed works, puts this practically beyond doubt. It is of course possible that a copy may yet be discovered.

[213] Dr. Henry Jackson, than whom no classical scholar has devoted more study to the Elizabethan drama, draws my attention to the fact that a somewhat indelicate passage in the play, obscurely hinted at in Drummond's notes (ed. Bullen, ii. p. 366), evidently forms the basis of that poet's own epigram 'Of Nisa' (ed. Turnbull, p. 104).

[214] Two other plays of Lyly's appear at first sight to present pastoral features. There are five 'shepherds' among the dramatis personae of _Mydas_, but they appear in one scene only (IV. ii), and merely represent the common people, introduced to comment on the actions of the king. The names, as is usual with Lyly, except in the case of comic characters, are classical. The other play is _Mother Bombie_, which, however, is nothing but a comedy of low life, combining the tradition of the Latin comedy with the native farce, which goes back through _Gammer Gurton_ to the old interludes. It contains a good deal of honest fun and a notable lack of Euphuism.

[215] For many years, indeed, his romance continued to run through ever-fresh editions, that of 1636 being the twelfth. It is clear, however, that its public had changed.

[216] It is a curious fact that the authorship of these songs, though it has never been seriously questioned, rests on very uncertain evidence. I may refer to an article on the subject in the _Modern Language Review_ for October, 1905, i. p. 43.

[217] A play entitled 'Iphis and Ianthe, or A marriage without a man,' was entered on the Stationers' Register on June 29, 1660, as the work of Shakespeare.

[218] Lyly may very possibly have known the story of Hesione cited by R. W. Bond (ii. 421), but it presents no particular points of similarity, and the outline of the legend was of course common property. A similar sacrifice forms an episode in _Orlando furioso_, VIII. 52, &c.; the sacrifice of a youth to an _orribile serpe_ also forms the central incident in Orazio Serono's _Fida Armilla_, 1610; while the motive of the annual sacrifice occurs of course in the _Pastor fido_.

[219] There can be little doubt as to the identity of the 'Commoedie of Titirus and Galathea,' entered on the Stationers' Register under date April 1, 1585; and now that, thanks to Bond's researches, it is evident that the reference to _Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus_ (see III. iii) was no _ex post facto_ prophecy, but borrowed from Richard Harvey's _Astrological Discourse_ of 1583, there is no reason to suppose a double date.

[220] Bond argues in favour of the extant text being mutilated, and representing a late revival about 1600. I am not prepared, and in the present place certainly not concerned, to dispute his hypothesis; whatever the cause, the literary result is unsatisfactory, and from his remarks concerning its dramatic merits I must emphatically dissent.

[221] Bond's emendation, undoubtedly correct, for _nip_ of the quarto.

[222] This story, strangely characterized as 'extremely attractive' by Bond, is elaborated from that given by Ovid in the eighth book of the _Metamorphoses_. I have elsewhere alluded to the theory of Italian pastoral influence in Lyly. I had in mind L. L. Schiicking's monograph on _Die stofflichen Beziehungen der englischen Komodie zur italienischen bis Lilly_, Halle, 1901, but must here state that to my mind he has completely failed to prove his thesis. I need not enter into details in this place, but may refer to Bond's discussion in his 'Note on Italian influence in Lyly's plays' (ii. p. 473). There is, however, one passage in _Love's Metamorphosis_ (not mentioned by Schucking) which suggests a reminiscence of the _Aminta_; Cupid, namely, describes himself (V. i.) as 'such a god that maketh thunder fall out of Joves hand, by throwing thoughts into his heart.' Compare the lines in Tasso's Prologue:

un dio... Che fa spesso cader di mano a Marte La sanguinosa spada... E le folgori eterne al sommo Giove.

I give the parallel for what it is worth. So far as I am aware it is the only one which can claim the least plausibility, and alone it is clearly insufficient to prove any borrowing on the part of the English playwright.

[223] Bond adduces some fairly strong reasons for supposing it later than 1590. A. W. Ward was evidently unable to make up his mind upon the question, and treats the play at the head of the list of Lyly's works, in which it seems to me that he hardly does justice to his critical powers.

[224] A very similar reminiscence of Marlowe's rhythm: /p And think I wear a rich imperial crowne, p/ occurs in the old play of _King Leir_, which must belong to about the same date, _c._ 1592.

[225] It is possible, though of course by no means necessary, that we have a specifie reminiscence of the lines in _Faustus_:

More lovely than the monarch of the sky In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms. (Sc. xv.)

[226] I have of course not concerned myself with those mythological plays which offer no pastoral features. Nor is it possible to go into the question of the Latin plays performed at the Universities. I may, however, mention the _Atalanta_ of Philip Parsons, a short piece preserved in the British Museum, MS. Harl. 6924, and dedicated to no less a person than Laud, when President of St. John's, Oxford, a position he held from 1611 to 1615. The play is founded upon the Boeotian legend of Atalanta, though the laying of the scene in Arcadia would appear to indicate a confusion with the other version. Pastoral characters and scenes are introduced.

[227] See the epistle dedicatory to the Countess of Pembroke, prefixed to the _Ivychurch_, in which the translation appeared, 1591.

[228] The choruses to Acts III and IV are omitted, which proves that Fraunce worked, as we should expect, from some edition previous to the Aldine quarto of 1590. There are also certain unimportant alterations in the translation from Watson. For a more detailed examination of Fraunce's relation to his Italian original, see an article by E. Koeppel on 'Die englischen Tasso-Übersetzungen des 16. Jahrhunderts,' in _Anglia_, vol. xi (1889), p. 11.

[229] 'Phillis, alas, tho' thou live, another by this will be dying' would be a more elegant as well as more correct rendering of 'Oimè! tu vivi; Altri non già': it would, however, not scan according to Fraunce's rules.

[230] Numerous French translations were, moreover, available for such as happened to be more familiar with that language.

[231] Though not a point of much importance, I may as well take the opportunity of endeavouring to clear up the singular confusion which has surrounded the authorship. The ascription to John Reynolds rests ultimately upon the authority of Edward Phillips, in whose _Theatrum Poetarum_, 1675, we find _s.v._ Torquato Tasso the note (pt. ii, p. 186): 'Amintas, a Pastoral, elegantly translated into English by John Reynolds.' Who this John was is open to question. The _Dic. Nat. Biog._ recognizes three John Reynolds in the first half of the seventeenth century: (1) John Reynolds, or Reinolds (1584-1614), epigrammatist, fellow of New College, Oxford; (2) John Reynolds, of Exeter, (_fl._ 1621-50), author of _God's Revenge against Murder_, and of translations from French and Dutch; and (3) Sir John Reynolds, colonel in the Parliamentary army. The British Museum Catalogue, on the other hand, distinguishes between John Reynolds, of Exeter, author of _God's Revenge_ and other works, and John Reynolds the translator (to whom the _Aminta_ is tentatively ascribed). I am not aware of any authority for this distinction, though there is nothing in the composition of _God's Revenge_ to make one suppose the author capable of producing the translation of the _Aminta_. On the other hand, it must be admitted that the incidental verse in some of his other works, notably in the _Flower of Fidelity_, a romance published in 1650, is distinctly on a more respectable level than his prose. The ascription, however, to John Reynolds has not very much to support it. Phillips' authority is second-rate at best, and is not likely to be at its best in the present case. It is indeed surprising that he should have been acquainted with this early translation rather than with that by John Dancer, which appeared in 1660, and must have been far more generally known at the end of the seventeenth century. The first to identify the translator with Henry Reynolds was, so far as I am aware, Mary A. Scott, in her valuable series of papers on 'Elizabethan Translations from the Italian,' in the Publications of the Modern Language Association of America (vol. xi. p. 112); and the same view was taken independently by the writer of a notice in the _Dic. Nat. Biog._ This ascription is based upon the entry in the Stationers' Register, which runs: '7º Novembris 1627. William Lee. Entred for his Copye under the handes of Sir Henry Herbert and both the wardens A booke called Torquato Tassos Aminta Englished by Henry Reynoldes ... vj^{d}' (Arber, iv. p. 188). Several songs of his are extant, and an epistle of Drayton's is dedicated to him. This appears to me the more reasonable ascription of the two. The writer in the _Dic. Nat. Biog._ further claims that the identity of the translator with Henry Reynolds is proved by internal evidence of style. I may add that Serassi, in his remarks prefixed to the Bodoni edition of the _Aminta_ (Parma, 1789), ascribed the present translation to Oldmixon through a confusion of the dates 1628 and 1698.

[232] Streams or inlets.

[233] The unfortunate cacophony of the opening is the retribution on the translator for not having the courage to begin with a hypermetrical line.

[234] Later translations of the _Aminta_ may be mentioned: John Oldmixon, 1698; P. B. Du Bois, in prose, with Italian, 1726; William Ayre [1737]; Percival Stockdale, 1770; and, lastly, the very graceful rendering by Leigh Hunt, 1820. As lately as 1900 a gentleman who need not be named had the impertinence to publish, in an American series, a mediocre version of the _Aminta_ as being 'Now first rendered into English.' I may mention that some confusion has been introduced into the question of the date of Du Bois' translation by the wholly unwarranted opinion on the part of the B. M. catalogue that the second (undated) edition appeared _c._ 1650. I have compared the two editions at the Bodleian, and have no doubt that the second belongs to _c._ 1730.

[235] The facts are as follow. The entry on the Stationers' Register is dated September 16, 1601, and does not mention the translator's name. The first edition, quarto, 1602, contains a sonnet by Daniel, addressed to Sir Edward Dymocke, in which he refers to the translator as the knight's 'kinde Countryman.' This is followed by 'A Sonnet of the Translator, dedicated to that honourable Knight his kinsman, Syr Edward Dymock.' After this comes an epistle dedicatory addressed to Sir Edward, and signed by Simon Waterson, the publisher, dated 'London this last of December. 1601.' In it the writer speaks of Sir Edward's 'nearenesse of kinne to the deceased Translator.' The play was reprinted in 1633, in 12mo, with an epistle dedicatory by John Waterson to 'Charles Dymock, Esquire,' beginning: 'That it may appeare unto the world, that you are Heire of what ever else was your Fathers, as well as of his vertues, I heere restore what formerly his gracious acceptance made onely his: Which as a testimonie to all, that it received Life from none but him, was content to loose its being with us, since he ceased to bee.' Through the hyperbolical ambiguity of this passage it clearly appears that Charles was Sir Edward's son, but not in the least that he was the translator as has been supposed, still less that he was the son of the translator, as has also been suggested. The play is first mentioned in the second edition (1782) of the _Biographia Dramatica_, where the translator is said to be a 'Mr. Dymock,' and Charles is identified as his son. This was copied in the 1812 edition, and also by Halliwell, while Mr. Hazlitt has the astonishing statement that the version was by 'Charles Dymock and a second person unknown.' The _Dic. Nat. Biog._ does not recognize any of the persons concerned. There is, however, one curious piece of evidence which has been so far overlooked. In the list of plays, namely, appended by the publisher Edward Archer to his edition of the _Old Law_ in 1656, occurs the entry: 'Faithfull Shepheardesse. C[omedy]. John Dymmocke.' The compiler has of course confused the translation with Fletcher's play, but the ascription is nevertheless interesting. If we insist on identifying the translator at all, it must be with this John Dymocke. The entries in Archer's list, however, are far too untrustworthy for their unsupported evidence to carry much weight. A translation 'by D. D. Gent. 12mo. 1633,' recorded by Halliwell and others, is evidently due to a series of blunders on the part of bibliographers, though what the origin of the initials is I have been unable to discover. They are probably due to Coxeter.

[236] MS. Addit. 29,493.

[237] I understand that an edition of Fanshawe's works is in preparation for Mr. Bullen.

[238] Later translations of the _Pastor fido_ appeared in 1782 [by William Grove], and in 1809 [by William Clapperton?].

[239] MS. Ff. ii. 9.

[240] The allusion, which has hitherto escaped notice, will be found quoted below, p. 252 note.

[241] In this note the _Pastor fido_ is said to have been 'Translated by some Author before this,' but the context makes it evident that 'some' is a misprint for 'the same.'

[242] It might be objected that J. S. is called 'Gent,' while Sidnam is termed esquire; but it should be remarked that in the MS. the 'Esq;' has been added in a later hand.

[243] MS. Sloane 836, folio 76^{v}.

[244] MS. Sloane 857, folio 195^{v}.

[245] MS. Addit. 12,128. Another MS. in the Bodleian.

[246] No doubt the Samuel Brooke who became Master in 1629. He was the brother of the Christopher Brooke who appears in Wither's eclogues under the pastoral name of Cuddie. Cf. p. 116.

[247] There is something wrong with this date. The princes were at Cambridge 2-4 March, 1612-13. (See Nichols' _James I_, iii. (iv.) p. 1086-7. The date 'March 6' in ii. p. 607 is an error.) Probably 'Martij 30º,' which appears in the University Library MS., as well as in several MSS. at Trinity, is a slip of the transcriber for 'Martij 3º,' which would set both day and year right. Nichols, indeed, gives the date as 'Martii 3º,' but he refers to the Emmanuel MS., which, like the others, reads '30.'

[248] MS. Ee. 5. 16.

[249] An anonymous writer in B. M. MS. Harl. 7044, quoted by Nichols (_James I_, i. p. 553), has the following description: '_Veneris_, 30º _Augusti_ [1605]. There was an English play acted in the same place before the Queen and young Prince, with all the Ladies and Gallants attending the Court. It was penned by Mr. Daniel, and drawn out of Fidus Pastor, which was sometimes acted by King's College men in Cambridge. I was not there present, but by report it was well acted and greatly applauded. It was named "Arcadia Reformed."' This has led Fleay into a strange error. '_The Queen's Arcadia_' he says _(Biog. Chron._ i. p. 110), 'although it is not known to have been acted till 1605, Aug. 30, had been prepared earlier (and perhaps acted at Herbert's marriage, 1604, Dec. 27), for it is called "_Arcadia, reformed_."' Of course the allusion is to the reformation of Arcadia, not the revision of the play. The play was printed the following year.

[250] For further details concerning the occasion of this piece, as also for information on the state of the text, I may refer to an article of mine in the _Modern Language Quarterly_ for August, 1903, vi. p. 59. The first edition appeared in 1615.

[251] Grosart's edition, printed, not always very correctly, from the collected works of 1623, offers too unsatisfactory a text for quotation. I have therefore quoted from the edition of 1623 itself, corrected, where necessary, by the separate editions, and, in the case of _Hymen's Triumph_, by Drummond's MS.

[252] Dramatic prologues occur in some of the later Italian pastorals (see p. 185, note). That to _Hymen's Triumph_ recalls the dialogue between Comedy and Envy prefixed to _Mucedorus_.

[253] Alexis is one of those characters whose appearance, while not essential to the plot, lends life to the romantic drama, and whose conspicuous absence in the neo-classic type is ill compensated by the prodigal introduction of superfluous confidants.

[254] It is just possible that Daniel took a hint for this episode from Dickenson's romance, _Arisbas_ (1594), meutioned above, p. 147.

[255] The similarity between Silvia and Shakespeare's Viola and Beaumont's Euphrasia-Bellario is too obvious to need comment. It may, however, be remarked that in Noci's _Cintia_ (1594) the heroine returns home disguised as a boy, to find her lover courting another nymph. See p. 212.

[256] This narrative has been much admired, notably by Lamb and Coleridge, critics from whom it is not good to differ; but I must nevertheless confess that, to my taste, Daniel's sentiment, here as elsewhere, is inclined to verge upon the fulsome and the ludicrous.

[257] It is evident that this pompous inflation of style damaged the piece upon the stage, for on Feb. 10, 1613-4, John Chamberlain, writing to Sir Dudley Carleton, described the performance as 'solemn and dull.'

[258] The corresponding passage in the _Aminta_ (I. ii.) is marred by a series of rather artificial conceits.

[259] Architecture or building. A very rare use not recognized by the New English Dictionary, though it is also found in Browne's _Britannia's Pastorals_ (I. iv. 405):

To find an house ybuilt for holy deed, With goodly architect, and cloisters wide.

[260] Guarini had already called dreams (_Pastor fido_, I. iv):

Immagini del dì, guaste e corrotte Dall' ombre della notte.

[261] Saintsbury, in his _Elizabethan Literature_, insists, not unnaturally, on Daniel's lack of strength. Upon this Grosart commented in his edition (iv. p. xliv.): 'This seems to me exceptionally uncritical.... One special quality of Samuel Daniel is the inevitableness with which he rises when any "strong" appeal is made to ... his imagination.' The partiality of an editor could surely go no further.

[262] The prodigality of _Oh's_ and _Ah's_ is an obvious characteristic of his verse, which may possibly have been in Jonson's mind when, in the prologue to the _Sad Shepherd_, he wrote:

But that no stile for Pastorall should goe Current, but what is stamp'd with _Ah_, and _O_; Who judgeth so, may singularly erre.

[263] This could hardly be maintained as literally true were we to include the Latin plays of the Universities. Of these, however, I propose to take merely incidental notice. In no case do they appear to be of considerable importance, and they are, as a rule, only preserved in MSS. which are often difficult of access. I may here mention one which reached the distinction of print, and is of a more regularly Italian structure than most. The title-page reads: 'Melanthe Fabula pastoralis acta cum Iacobus Magnae Brit. Franc. & Hiberniæ Rex, Cantabrigiam suam nuper inviseret, ibidemq; Musarum, atque eius animi gratiâ dies quinque Commoraretur. Egerunt alumni Coll. San. et Individuae Trinitatis. Cantabrigiae. Excudebat Cantrellus Legge. Mart. 27. 1615.' The play was acted, according to the invaluable John Chamberlain, on March 10, 1614-5, and appears to have made a very favourable impression. It belongs to the series of entertainments which included the representation of _Albumazar_, and was to have included that of Phineas Fletcher's _Sicelides_, had the king remained another night. The author of _Melanthe_ is said to have been 'Mr. Brookes,' probably the Dr. Samuel Brooke who had produced the already-mentioned translation of Bonarelli's _Filli di Sciro_ two years before. See Nichols' _Progresses of James I_, iii. p. 55.

[264] Fleay considers the _Faithful Shepherdess_ a joint production of Beaumont and Fletcher. The only external evidence in favour of this theory is a remark of Jonson's reported by Drummond: 'Flesher and Beaumont, ten yeers since, hath [_sic_] written the Faithfull Shipheardesse, a Tragicomedie, well done.' Considering that the same authority makes Jonson ascribe the _Inner Temple Masque_ to Fletcher, his statement as to the _Faithful Shepherdess_ cannot be allowed much weight, while I hardly think that the fact of Beaumont having prefixed commendatory verses to Fletcher in the original edition can be set aside as lightly as Fleay appears to think. He relies chiefly upon internal evidence, but in his _Biographical Chronicle_, at any rate, does not venture upon a detailed division. For myself, I can only discover one hand in the play, and that hand Fletcher's. Fleay places the date of representation before July, 1608, on account of an outbreak of the plague lasting from then to Nov. 1609, but A. H. Thorndike (_The Influence of Beaumont and Fletcher on Shakspere_, Worcester, Mass., 1901, p. 14) has shown good reason for believing that dramatic performances were much less interfered with by the plague than Fleay imagined.

[265] Most of these, it may be remarked, as well as the character of Thenot and the unconventional rôle of the satyr, find parallels in the earlier stages of the Italian pastoral. The transformation-well recalls the enchanted lake of the _Sacrifizio_; the introduction of a supernatural agent in the plot reminds us of the same play, as well as of Epicuro's _Mirzia_; the friendly satyr, of this latter, which may be, in its turn, indebted to the revised version of the _Orfeo_; the character of Thenot is anticipated in the _Sfortunato_. I give the resemblances for what they are worth, which is perhaps not much; it is unlikely that Fletcher should have been acquainted with any of the plays in question, though of course not impossible. The magic taper appears to be a native superstition, a survival of the ordeal by fire.

[266] Certain critics have suggested that the _Pastor fido_ might more appropriately have borne the title of Fletcher's play. This is absurd, since it would mean giving the title-rôle to the wholly secondary Dorinda. Perhaps they failed to perceive that Mirtillo and not Silvio is the hero. With Fletcher's play the case stands otherwise. There is absolutely nothing to show whether the title refers to the presiding genius of the piece, Clorin, faithful to the memory of the dead, or to the central character, Amoret, faithful in spite of himself to her beloved Perigot. I incline to believe that it is the latter that is the 'faithful shepherdess,' since it might be contended that, in the conventional language of pastoral, Clorin would be more properly described as the 'constant shepherdess.' (Cf. II. ii. 130.)

[267] See Homer Smith's paper on _Pastoral Influence in the English Drama_. His theory concerning the _Faithful Shepherdess_ will be found on p. 407. Whatever plausibility there may be in the general idea, the detailed application there put forward would appear to be a singular instance of misapplied ingenuity in pursuance of a preconceived idea.

[268] 'Poems' [1619], p. 433. Compare Boccaccio's account of pastoral poetry already quoted, p. 18, note.

[269] One fault, which even the beauty of the verse fails to conceal, is the introduction of all sorts of stilted and otiose allusions to sheepcraft, which only serve to render yet more apparent the inherent absurdity of the artificial pastoral. These Tasso and Guarini had had the good taste to avoid, but we have already had occasion to notice them in the case of Bonarelli. Daniel is likewise open to censure on this score.

[270] I quote, of course, from Dyce's text, but have for convenience added the line numbers from F. W. Moorman's edition in the 'Temple Dramatists.'

[271] The officious critic must be forgiven for remarking that the satyr is not, as might be supposed from this speech, suddenly tamed by Clorin's beauty and virtue, but shows himself throughout as of a naturally gentle disposition. Consequently Clorin's argument that it is the mysterious power of virginity that has guarded her from attack and subdued his savage nature appears a little fatuous.

[272] Specifically from 'wanton quick desires' and 'lustful heat.' One is almost tempted to imagine that the author is laughing in his sleeve when we discover of what little avail the solemn ceremony has been.

[273] In 1658 there appeared a Latin translation, under the title of _La Fida pastora,_ by 'FF. Anglo-Britannus,' namely, Sir Richard Fanshawe, as appears from an engraved monogram on the title-page.

[274] As Fleay points out, the prologue and epilogue are not suited to court representation.

[275] Randolph's familiarity with Guarini is evident throughout, and there is at least one distinct reminiscence, namely Thestylis' humorous expansion of Corisca's remark about changing her lovers like her clothes:

Other Nymphs Have their varietie of loves, for every gowne, Nay, every petticote; I have only one, The poore foole Mopsus! (I. ii.)

[276] A word borrowed by Randolph from the Greek, ὀμφή, a divine voice or prophecy. He may possibly have associated the word with the Delphic ὀμφαλός.

[277] It is possible that Laurinda's indecision may owe something to the _doppio amore_ of Celia in the _Filli di Sciro_. See especially III. i. of that play.

[278] Homer Smith quotes as Halliwell's the description of the play as 'one of the finest specimens of pastoral poetry in our language, partaking of the best properties of Guarini's and Tasso's poetry, without being a servile imitation of either.' He has been misled into supposing that the comments in the _Dictionary of Plays_ are original. The above first appears in the _Biographia Dramatica_ of 1812, and may therefore be ascribed to Stephen Jones. All Halliwell did was to omit the further words, 'its style is at once simple and elevated, natural and dignified.' The whole description is of course in the very worst style of critical claptrap. Halliwell reprinted the 'fairy' scenes in his _Illustrations of the Fairy Mythology of A Midsummer Night's Dream_ (Shakespeare Soc., 1845), though how they were supposed to illustrate anything of the kind we are not informed.

[279] 1822, p. 61. This, the only modern edition of Randolph, is one of the worst edited books in the language, and no literary drubbing was ever better deserved than that administered by the _Saturday Review_ on August 21, 1875. As the text is quite useless for purposes of quotation, I have had recourse to the very correct first edition of the _Poems_, 1638, checked by a collation of the numerous subsequent issues.

[280] The sense in the original is defective.

[281] i.e. Tethys, a very common confusion.

[282] The fact that the play was never published as a separate work makes it difficult to estimate its popularity with the reading public. The whole collection was freqnently reprinted, 1638, 1640, 1643, 1652, 1664 and 1668 twice. In 1703 appeared the _Fickle Shepherdess_, 'As it is Acted in the New Theatre in Lincolns-Inn Fields. By Her Majesties Servants. Play'd all by Women.' This piece is said in the epistle dedicatory to Lady Gower to be 'abreviated from an Author famous in his Time.' It is in fact a prose rendering, much compressed, of the main action of Randolph's play, the language being for the most part just sufficiently altered to turn good verse into bad prose.

[283] Vide post, p. 382.

[284] For a detailed discussion of the evidence I must refer the reader to the Introduction to my reprint of the play in the _Materialien zur Kunde des älteren Englischen Dramas_ (vol. xi, 1905). The following summary may be quoted. '(i) There is no ground for supposing that there ever existed more of the _Sad Shepherd_ than we at present possess. (ii) The theory of the substantial identity of the _Sad Shepherd_ and the _May Lord_ must be rejected, there being no reason to suppose that the latter was dramatic at all. (iii) The two works may, however, have been to some extent connected in subject, and fragments of the one may survive embedded in the other. (iv) The _May Lord_ was most probably written in the autumn of 1613. (v) The date of the _Sad Shepherd_ cannot be fixed with certainty; but there is no definite evidence to oppose to the first line of the prologue and the allusion in Falkland's elegy [in _Jonsonus Virbius_], which agree in placing it in the few years preceding Jonson's death.'

[285] The play has no doubt been somewhat lost in the big collected editions of the author's works, and has also suffered from its fragmentary state. Previous to my own reprint it had only once been issued as a separate publication, namely, by F. G. Waldrou, whose edition, with continuation, appeared in 1783. One of the best passages, however (II. viii), was given in Lamb's _Specimens_. In quoting from the play I have preferred to follow the original of 1640, as in my own reprint, merely correcting certain obvions errors, rather than Gifford's edition, in which wholly unwarrantable liberties are taken with the text.

[286] Waldron, in his continuation, matches her with Clarion.

[287] It involves, moreover, the critical fallacy of supposing that poetry is a sort of richly embroidered garment wherewith to clothe the nakedness of the underlying substance. This may be so in certain cases in which the poet is made and not born, or in which he forces himself to work at an uncongenial theme. But in a genuine work of art the substance cannot so be separated from the form without injury to both. The poetry in this case is not an external adornment, but a necessary part of the structure, without which it would be something else than what it is. Verse, when in organic relation with the subject, modifies the character of that subject itself, and the subject can only be rightly apprehended through the medium of the verse. I contend that the _Sad Shepherd_ is a case in point, and Mr. Swinburne's remarks, I conceive, bear out my view. I shall not, therefore, seek to analyse the types represented by the characters--styling poor little Amie a modification of the type of the 'forward shepherdess'!--nor count the number of lines assigned respectively to the shepherds, to the huntsmen, or to the witch; but shall endeavonr to ascertain the particular object Jonson had in view in adopting a particular presentation of the subject, the means he employed, and the measure of success he achieved.

[288] The distinction which appears to belong peculiarly to the drama is most likely a survival of the influence of the mythological plays, in which the huntress nymphs of Diana frequently appear. We find, however, a tendency to a similar dualism in Mantuan's upland and lowland swains.

[289] It has recently been argued with much ingenuity that Marian is originally none other than the familiar figure of French _pastourelles_. However this may be, it is a question with which I am not here concerned. It was the English Robin Hood tradition that formed part of Jonson's rough material. See E. K. Chambers, _The Mediaeval Stage_, i. p. 175.

[290] The author, however, is at fault in his terms of art. If the quarry to which he likens Aeglamour had a dappled hide, it was a fallow and not a red deer. In this case it should have been called a buck, and not a hart. Again, the female should have been a doe: deer is a generic name including both sexes of red, fallow, and roe alike.

[291] A translation of the _Astrée_ appeared as early as 1620, but the French fashion obtained no hold over the popular taste till the later days of the Commonwealth.

[292] I may say that this section was written as it stands before K. Brunhuber's essay on _Sidneys Arcadia und ihre Nachlaufer_ came into my hands. He gives a superficial account of several printed plays, but was unaware of the existence of those in MS.

[293] The quotations are from the Gifford-Dyce edition of Shirley's Works (1833), the only collected edition that has appeared. The text stands badly in need of revision, but I have had to content myself with a few obvious corrections. For instance, in the passage quoted above, the editors have followed the quarto in reducing l. 13 to nonsense, by reading 'no man,' and l. 20 by reading 'And the imagination.'

[294] So at least in the printed play. In the original draft, and probably also in the acting version, as Fleay has pointed out, they were king and queen, and of this traces remain. Thus we twice find Gynetia addressed as 'Queen,' while elsewhere 'Duke' rimes with 'spring,' and 'Duchess' with 'spleen.' The alteration was no doubt made from motives of prudence. Even so the play was, according to Fleay, published surreptitiously, i.e. it does not appear on the Stationers' Register.

[295] A. H. Bullen's reprint of Day's works was privately printed in 1881. Though the text is not in all respects satisfactory, I have thought myself justified in quoting from it as the only edition available.

[296] Not tennis, as Mr. Bullen states (Introd. p. 17), oblivious for the moment of the impossibility of representing a tennis match on the stage, as well as of the fact that the game was never, in Elizabethan times, played by ladies.

[297] There is one printed play, the relation of which to the _Arcadia_ is not very clear. The title, _Mucedorus_, at once suggests some connexion, but it is difficult to follow it out in detail. Mucedorus, 'the king's sonne of Valentia,' leaves his father's court and goes disguised as a shepherd to win the love of Amadine, 'the king's daughter of Arragon.' He twice rescues the princess, is sentenced to banishment, and reveals his identity just as his father arrives in search of him. The play was originally printed in 1598, but no doubt originated some years earlier, _c._ 1588 according to Fleay. Most of the resemblances with the _Arcadia_, however, are due to scenes which first appeared in 1610, in which edition the king of Valentia first plays a part. Beyond Mucedorus' disguise there is absolutely nothing pastoral in the play. With the exception of some of the additional scenes, which are undoubtedly by a different hand from the rest, the play is unrelieved rubbish. Probably the original author utilized in the composition of his piece such elements and incidents of the _Arcadia_ as he had gathered orally while the unfinished work still circulated in MS. Later the reviser, being aware of this source, expanded the play from a knowledge of the completed work. It cannot be said to be a dramatization of the romance, though it is undoubtedly in a manner founded upon it.

[298] Egerton MS. 1994. Not _Love's Changelings Changed_, as usually quoted.

[299] _Old Plays_, ii. p. 432.

[300] Rawl. Poet, 3.

[301] In the Bodleian MS. Ashmole 788 is a Latin epistle by Philip Kynder, a miscellaneous writer and court agent under Charles I, born in 1600 at latest, which was 'prefixt before my _Silvia_, a Latin comedie or pastorall, translated from the _Archadia_, written at eighteen years of age.' (See Halliwell's _Dic. of Plays_.) The 'Archadia' might, of course, refer either to Sannazzaro's or Lope de Vega's romances, though this is highly improbable.

[302] So much we learn from the title-page itself. The play had very likely been acted at court some years earlier, but the document mentioning such a performance, printed by Cunningham, is of doubtful authenticity, while Fleay contradicts himself upon the subject. The question is, happily, immaterial to our present purpose.

[303] Here, as in the _Isle of Gulls_, the titles of Duke and Duchess have been imperfectly substituted for King and Queen, probably for court performance.

[304] The story in the romance is very different. Erona, after many adventures, marries her lover. Both episodes are related in Book II, chapters xiii and following (ed. 1590). They are epitomized by Dyce, whose edition I have of course used.

[305] Here, again, the catastrophe of the play bears no resemblance to the romance.

[306] See III. v. According to Chetwood (_British Theatre_, 1752, p. 47), the play was revived in 1671, with a prologue attributing it to Shirley. This is, of course, possible, but it requires more than Chetwood's unsupported authority to render it probable. Fleay suggests that the author is the same as the J. S. of _Phillis of Scyros_, namely, as I have shown, Jonathan Sidnam. This seems to me highly improbable. The play is printed in Hazlitt's Dodsley, vol. xiv, whence I quote, with necessary corrections.

[307] Bk. I. chaps. v-viii, Bk. III. chap. xii, in the edition of 1590.

[308] Quotations are taken, with corrections, from Pearson's reprint of Glapthorne's works (1874).

[309] K. Deighton's emendation, undoubtedly correct, for 'Love' of the original. (_Conjectural Readings_, second series, Calcutta, 1898, p. 136.)

[310] I have been unable to trace this work beyond a reference to Heber's sale given in Hazlitt's _Handbook_. The original story will be found in _Albion's England_, Book IV, chap. xx, of the first Part, published in 1586. As Dr. Ward points out, it is a variant of the old romance of Havelok. Edel, with a view to disinheriting his niece Argentile, heir to Diria (?Deira), of which he is regent, seeks to marry her to a base scullion. This menial, however, is really Curan, prince of Danske, who has sought the court in disguise, in the hope of obtaining the love of the princess, who is mewed up from intercourse with the world. Of this Argentile is ignorant, and when she hears of her uncle's purpose, she contrives to escape from court and lives disguised as a shepherdess. After her flight Curan also leaves the court and assumes a shepherd's garb, and meeting Argentile by chance again falls in love with her without knowing who she is. After a while he reveals his identity, and she hers; they are married, and he conquers back her kingdom from the usurping Edel.

[311] So far as I am aware, A. B. Grosart was the first to point this out. (_Spenser_, iii. p. lxx.)

[312] It is printed in Hazlitt's _Webster_, vol. iv. Fleay, with characteristic assurance, identifies the _Thracian Wonder_ with a lost play of Heywood's, known only from Henslowe's Diary, and there called 'War without blows and love without suit.' He argues: 'in i. 2, "You never shall again renew your suit;" but the love is given at the end without any suit; and in iii. 2, "Here was a happy war finished without blows."' The identification, however, will not bear examination. No battle, it is true, is fought at Sicily's first appearance, but the title, _War without Blows_ could hardly be applied to a play in which the whole of the last act is occupied with fierce fighting between three different nations. So with the second title, _Love without Suit_. Serena indeed grants her love in the end without any reason whatever, but only after her lover has 'suited' himself clean out of his five wits. Moreover, it is not certain that this second title should not be _Love without Strife_. Heywood's play, I have little doubt, was a mere love-comedy (cf. such titles as _The Amorous War_, and similar expressions in the dramatists _passim_). The identification, moreover, would necessitate the date 1598, though this does not prevent Fleay from stating that the piece is founded on William Webster's poem published in 1617. So early a date seems to me rather improbable. Since William Webster's poem has nothing to do with the present piece, the suggestion that Kirkman's attribution of the play to John Webster was due to a confusion of course falls to the ground.

[313] According to S. L. Lee in the _Dic. Nat. Biog._, who follows the _Biographia Dramatica._

[314] It will be found in Mr. Bullen's admirable collection, _Lyrics from the Dramatists_, 1889, p. 231.

[315] Reprinted in 1882 by A. H. Bullen in the first volume of his _Old English Plays_, and more recently by R. W. Bond in his edition of Lyly. In quoting, I have generally followed the latter, though I have preferred my own arrangement of certain passages. None of the suggestions that have been put forward as to the authorship of the play appear to me to carry much weight. The ascription of the whole to Lyly, first made by Archer in 1656, and repeated by Halliwell as late as 1860, is now utterly discredited. The view, first advanced by Edmund Gosse, that the author was John Day, has been tentatively endorsed by both editors of the piece; but I agree with Professer Gollancz in thinking it unlikely on the ground of style. Fleay assigns the serious (verse) portion of the play to Daniel, and the comic (prose) scenes to Lyly. It seems to me unlikely, however, that Daniel, who was shortly to appear as the chief exponent of the orthodox Italian tradition, should at this date have been concerned in the production of a typical example of the hybrid pastoral of the English stage. Nor do I believe that Lyly was in any way concerned in the piece, though some scenes are evident imitations of his work. This, however, involves the question of the authorship of the lyrics found in Lyly's plays, and I must refer for a detailed discussion to my article upon the subject already cited (p. 227).

[316] _Metamorphoses_, ix. 667, &c. Ward is moved to characterize the plot as a theme of 'Ovidian lubricity.' I question whether any such censure is merited. That the theme is one which would have become intolerably suggestive in the hands of the Sienese Intronati, for instance, may be admitted, but the author has treated the story with complete _naïveté_. The obscene passages referred to later on (p. 345) occur in the comic action, and are in no way connected with the point in question. Ward further informs us that the play is 'throughout in rime,' notwithstanding the fact that something approaching a quarter of the whole is in prose.

[317] I must repeat that I see no advantage to be gained from the method adopted by Homer Smith, who tries to extract and separate the strictly pastoral elements from the medley. A play is not a child's puzzle that can be taken to pieces and labelled, nor even a chemical compound to be analysed into its component parts. What is of interest is to note the various influences which have affected and modified the growth of the literary organism.

[318] Though the author may very likely have known Spenser's description of the house of Morpheus _(Faery Queen_, I. i. 348, &c.), he certainly drew his own account straight from Ovid (_Metam._ xi. 592, &c.), to which, of course, Spenser was also indebted. I am rather inclined to think the author drew his material from Golding's translation (xi. 687, &c.). With the second passage quoted, cf. _Faery Queen_, II. xii. 636, &c.

[319] 'Trip and go' was a proverbial expression, and is found, with its obvious rime 'to and fro,' in several old dance-songs.

[320] The only composition I can recall which at all anticipates the peculiar effect of this lyric is Thestylis' song in the _Arraignment of Paris_ (III. ii.), to which, in the old edition, is appended the quaint note, 'The grace of this song is in the Shepherds' echo to her verse.'

[321] Fleay gives the date 1601, following Halliwell, but Haslewood has 1603.

[322] According to Fleay, it 'was intended to be presented to James I on 13th Mar. 1614.' This date must be a slip, since it was not till 1615 that the king was at Cambridge. It is, moreover, correctly given in his _History of the Stage_. The preparations also appear to have been for the eleventh, not the thirteenth. Fleay further mentions a performance at King's before Charles I, but gives no authority.

[323] An exception must be made of Ward, whose remarks are almost excessively laudatory, though his treatment of the piece is necessarily slight.

[324] The incidents occur, however, in Book II of Browne's work (Songs 4 and 5), which was not printed till 1616. Either, therefore, Fletcher had seen Browne's poem in manuscript, or else the play, as originally performed, differed from the printed version. I think it unlikely that the borrowing should have been the other way.

[325] Fleay confuses the two performances, and, by placing Goffe's death in 1627, is forced to suppose that the 'praeludium' was added by another hand. It may be noticed that, if this introduction is by Goffe, Salisbury Court was probably opened in the spring, a point otherwise unsettled.

[326] The resemblance with the _Sad Shepherd_, I. i, is almost too close to be fortuitous. It is, on the other hand, not easily accounted for. The whole passage quoted above is somewhat markedly superior to the general level of the verse in the play, not merely the two or three lines in which a distinct resemblance to Jonson can be traced. Is it possible that both Goffe and Jonson were following, the one slavishly, the other with more imagination, one common original, now unknown? Or can it be that Goffe is here reproducing a passage from an early unpublished work of Jonson's own, a passage which Jonson later refashioned into the singularly perfect speech of Aeglamour?

[327] Homer Smith, in making these assertions, overlooks historical evidence. It is, however, only fair to Goffe to say that other critics apparently take a very much more favourable view of the merits of the piece than I am able to do.

[328] Hardly in those of the prologue to _Hymen's Triumph_, as suggested by Homer Smith.

[329] W. C. Hazlitt (_Manual of Plays_, p. 25) records: 'Bellessa, the Shepherd's Queen: The scene, Galicia. An unpublished and incomplete drama in prose and verse. Fol.' In the absence of further evidence I conclude that this is an imperfect MS. of Montagu's piece.

[330] The designs for the scene, by Inigo Jones, are preserved in the British Museum, MS. Lansd. 1,171, fols. 15-16. Fols. 5-6 of the same MS. contain the ground-plans 'for a pasterall in the hall at whitthall w'ch was ackted by the ffrench on St Thomas day the 23th of decemb'r 1635,' which may refer to the same piece.

[331] It may, however, be founded on some French romance.

[332] The play will be found in Hazlitt's 'Dodsley,' vol. xii, whence I quote. Hazlitt suggests that 'the episode of Sylvia and Thyrsis' may have had its foundation in certain intrigues traceable in Digby's memoirs, and Fleay would see in the characters of Stella and Mirtillus a hint of Dorset's _liaison_ with Lady Venetia. I suppose that it has been thought necessary to find allusions to actual persons, chiefly because the author explicitly denies their existence. Homer Smith describes the play as a pure Arcadian drama. 'The court element,' he writes, 'is so completely overshadowed by the pastoral' as to justify the classification, in spite, apparently, of the fact that the heroine never appears on the stage in pastoral guise at all, and that in the greater part of the last three acts the scene is laid at court.

[333] See above, p. 246, for Fanshawe's version of the passage in question.

[334] Were it not for these points of similarity, I should have supposed Gosse to have been misled by the pastoral-sounding title of Randolph's Plautine comedy into confusing it with the _Amyntas_. The criticism is from an article in the _Cornhill_ for December, 1876. Homer Smith cites it.

[335] The surname rests on Kirkman's authority, the addition of the Christian name is apparently due to Chetwood, and is therefore to be accepted with caution. I have been unable to trace any one of the name.

[336] II. ii, sig. C 1^v of the old edition.

[337] Halliwell, _Description of MSS. in the Public Library, Plymouth, to which are added Some Fragments of Early Literature hitherto unpublished_. MS. CII is a copy of the original manuscript in the possession of Sir E. Dering. A manuscript of the play was in Quaritch's Catalogue for November, 1899; I have been unable to trace it.

[338] I may take the opportanity of mentioning in a note one or two Latin plays. In Emmanuel College (to the courtesy of whose librarian, Mr. E. S. Shuckburgh, I am much indebted) is preserved the manuscript of a play entitled _Parthenia_, which was no doubt acted at Cambridge, but concerning which no record apparently survives. The introduction of 'Pan Arcadiae deus' and of a character 'Cacius Latro' show that the piece was influenced both by the mythological drama and the romance of adventure. The most interesting point about the play is that the chief male characters bear the names of Philissides and Amyntas, which will be recognized as the pastoral titles of Sidney and Watson respectively. Since, however, the handwriting appears to be after 1600, and there is no correspondeuce in the female parts, it is more than doubtful whether any allusion was intended. Another Cambridge piece is the _Silvanus_, a MS. of which is in the Bodleian (Douce 234). It was performed on January 13, 1596, and may possibly have been written by one Anthony Rollinson--the name is erased.

[339] Bullen's _Peele_, i.p. 363.

[340] The only recorded copy of the original is in the British Museum, but is imperfect, having the title-page in facsimile from some other copy at present unknown. A reprint from another copy, possibly of a different edition, is found in Nichols' _Progresses of Elisabeth_, from which a modernized reprint was prepared by the Lee Priory Press in 1815. Finally, it appears in Mr. Bond's edition of Lyly, i. p. 471, whence I quote.

[341] See the excellent edition by W. Bang, _Materialien zur Kunde des alteren englischen Dramas_, vol. iii, 1903.

[342] All necessary apparatns for the study of this literary curiosity will be fonnd in Miss M. L. Lee's edition, 1893. The original is a MS. in the Bodleian.

[343] See A. H. Thorndike, _Influence of Beaumont and Fletcher on Shakspeare_, 1901, p. 32. In _Mucedorus_ (I. i. 51) we find mention of a shepherd's disguise used 'in Lord Julio's masque.' The passage occurs in the additional scenes of 1610, and there are numerous masques of the period that might claim to be that referred to. Fleay conjectures '_The Shepherds' Mask_ of James I.'s time,' and elsewhere identifies this title, which he gets from Halliwell's _Dictionary_, with Jonson's masque, _Pan's Anniversary, or the Shepherds' Holiday_. This, however, was produced at earliest in 1623, and can hardly therefore have been alluded to in 1610. Halliwell took his title from the British Museum MS. Addit. 10,444, in which appears the music for a number of 'masques,' or dances taken from masques, and in which this particular _Shepherds' Masque_ (fol. 34^{v}) is dated 1635.

[344] The date here assigned presents obvions difficultes. It would naturally mean that it was performed after March 24, 1625; but as James died after about a fortnight's serious illness on March 27, this can hardly be accepted. Nichols placed the performance conjecturally in August, 1624, for reasons which I am inclined to regard as satisfactory. Fleay pronounces in favour of June 19, 1623, with a confidence not altogether calculated to inspire the like feeling in others.

[345] _Lives_, Oxford, 1898, i. p. 251.

[346] 'The Dramatic Works of John Tatham,' 1879. In Maidment and Logan's _Dramatists of the Restoration_.

[347] Another parallel may be found in Shirley's _Maid's Revenge_, IV. iv, where the wounded Antonio exclaims:

Where art, Berinthia? let me breathe my last Upon thy lip; make haste, lest I die else.

The situation, however, is different. Shirley's play was licensed in 1626.

[348] In a small quarto volume, classed as Addit. MS. 14,047. The piece has hitherto been ascribed to George Wilde, on the authority of Halliwell. There appears to be no reason for this ascription, beyond the fact that the same volume also contains two pieces by Wilde. His name, however, does not occur in connexion with the present play, and the volume, which is in a variety of hands, certainly includes work not by him. Wilde was scholar and fellow of St. John's, chaplain to Laud, and Bishop of Londonderry after the restoration. His plays consist of the two comedies in this volume, viz. the Latin _Euphormus, sive Cupido Adultus_, acted on Feb. 5, 1634/5, and the _Hospital of Lovers_, acted before the king and queen on Aug. 29, 1636, both at St. John's. He is also said to have written another Latin play, called _Hermophus_, though nothing is known of it beyond the record of its being acted. It was most probably the same as _Euphormus_, the titles being anagrams of each other.

[349] The _Dic. Nat. Biog_. gives the date as 1635.

[350] The stage directions for these entries are interesting: (l) 'Enter An Antique [i.e. antimasque] of Sheapheards'; (2) 'enter the Masque'; (3) 'the masque enters and dances, and after wardes exit.' The terms 'masque' and 'antimasque' appear to have been used technically for the dances of the masque proper, and of its burlesque counterpart. In this sense the words occur repeatedly in the British Museum Addit. MS. 10,444, which contains the music only. In the present case the masquers appear to have been distinct from the characters of the play.

[351] R. Brotanek, _Die englischen Maskenspiele_, 1902, p. 201. See also the edition by R. Brotanek and W. Bang, _Materialien zur Kunde des älteren Englischen Dramas,_ vol. ii, 1903; and further in the _Modern Language Quarterly_ for April, 1904, vii. p. 17.

[352] The first issue was printed 'for the use of the Author,' without date, but was received by Thomason on Sept. 1, 1656, which would appear to dispose of the fiction that Cox died in 1648.

[353] This letter was prefixed to the masque in the collected edition of the Poems (1645), but was written to the author without view to publication.

[354] Fifty-eight lines in decasyllabic couplets--not eighty-three lines of blank verse, as for some inexplicable reason Masson asserts (i. p. 150).

[355] Specific references will be found scattered through Masson's notes. To supplement his work I may refer to some interesting remarks on _Comus_ as a masque, and a useful comparison with Peele's play, by M. W. Samson, of Indiana University, in the introduction to his edition of Milton's Minor Poems, New York, 1901. Here, as elsewhere in the case of Milton's Works, I follow H. C. Beeching's admirable text, Oxford, 1900.

[356] Not wishing to pursue this point further, I may be allowed to refer to certain candid and judicious remaries in Saintsbury's _Elizabethan Literature_, p. 387.

[357] I am perfectly aware of, and in writing the above have made every allowance for, three considerations which may be urged in explanation of the passages in question. In the first place, it must be remembered that the age was an outspoken one, and used to giving free expression to thoughts and feelings which we are in the habit of passing over in silence. Secondly, the age was unquestionably one of considerable licence, which must be held to have warranted somewhat direct speaking on the part of those who held to a stricter code of morals; and, moreover, it must be conceded that the Puritan failing of self-righteous protestation was as a rule combined with very genuine practice of the professed virtues. Thirdly, there is the fact that the age of thirteen was at that time, by common consent, regarded as already mature womanhood. On one and all of these heads a good deal might be written, but it would only extend yet further a discussion which has already, it may be, exceeded reasonable limits.

[358] I ought, perhaps, to apologize for thus alluding to these poems as subsequent to _Comus_, seeing that criticism usually places them some years earlier. There is, however, no external evidence of any kind, and to me the internal evidence of style points strongly to a later date. Possibly, since they are not fonnd in the Trinity MS., they were composed during Milton's travels, which would place them after _Lycidas_ even, somewhere about 1638 or 1639. One of the ablest of our living critics, himself a close and original student of Milton, writes in a private letter: 'I long ago heard a good critic say that _Comus_ seemed to him prentice work beside _L'Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_; and these do seem to me, I must confess, the maturer poems.' The point was raised by F. Byse in the _Modern Language Quarterly_ for July, 1900, iii. p. 16.

[359] Conversations, IV and III, Shakespeare Society, 1842, pp. 4 and 2.

[360] Those who wish to pursue the subject further will find the necessary references in Sommer's _Erster Versuch über die Englische Hirtendichtung_, and a full discussion in an elaborate 'Inquiry into the propriety of the rules prescribed for Pastoral Poetry,' prefixed to the edition of Ramsay's _Gentle Shepherd_, published at Edinburgh in 1808. Some judicious remarks will also be found in the Introduction to Chambers' _English Pastorals_, pp. xliv, &c.

[361] This limitation, it may be observed, does not necessarily apply to all literary forms. It may, I think, reasonably be maintained that the form of the drama, for instance, is essentially conditioned by the psychological relation of author to audience, through the medium of actual representation, and that this relation is equivalent to, or at least capable of forming the basis of, a theory of drama. I am aware that such an abstract view as this finds little favour with the majority of modern critics, but while myself doubtful as to its practical value, I do not see that it involves any critical absurdity.

[362] This impulse can certainly be traced in some of the eclogues, and still more markedly in the purely lyrical verse of a pastoral sort. But the cross influences are too complex to be recapitulated here.

[363] The influence of the Latin eclogue of the renaissance was undoubtedly also direct, but though widespread it was hardly vital, and its importance, as compared with that of the vernacular tradition, may be not inadequately measured by the relative importance of the chief exponents of either, Googe and Spenser.

[364] Especially the allusions to religions controversy. The romance was, of course, highly topical in Spain, but, waiving the rather debatable point of Sidney's allusive intentions, it never appears to have been generally so regarded in this country.

[365] Possibly I ought to add a fourth, the masques at court; but their influence in large measure duplicated that of the Italian drama, and cannot be distinguished from it.

[366] See Rossi, p. 175, note 1.

[367] Ferrara, Caraffo, 1588, p. 50. Rossi, 175^{1}. Carducci, 59.

[368] _Discorso_, Padova, Meieto, 1587; Rossi, 175^{1}.

[369] _Apologia contro l'autor del Verato_, Padova, Meietti, 1590.

[370] _Il Verato secondo_, Firenze, Giunti, 1593, pp. 206-7; Carducci, 59-60.

[371] I make no pretence at having myself examined all the texts mentioned in the following discussion. Many, indeed, are only to be found in out-of-the-way provincial libraries in Italy, and have, I believe, never been examined by any one but Carducci himself. The references in my notes equally testify my indebtedness to Rossi's monograph; indeed, my whole treatment of the subject is based on his work.

[372] I shall endeavour to note the various verse-forms employed, as the evidence is often of use in determining the question of development. It may, however, be very easily misleading if unduly pressed, as by Carducci. In general, the _terza rima_ may be taken as pointing to the influence of Sannazzaro's _Arcadia; ottava rima_, courtly or rustic, to that of Poliziano's _Orfeo_ and _Giostra_ and Lorenzo de' Medici's _Nencia_ respectively; the _endecasillabi sciolti_, or blank verse, to that of the regular drama. Of the free measures, _endecasillabi e settinarî_, of the later plays I shall have to speak more in detail hereafter.

[373] Edited from MS. by Felice Bariola, with other poems of Taccone's, Firenze, 1884, p. 14. Rossi, 166^{2}; Carducci, 28^{1}.

[374] Printed in the 'Opere dello elegante poeta Seraphino Aquilano,' Venetia, Bindoni, 1516, sig. D5. Rossi, 167^{1}. For the date, Carducci, 29^{2}.

[375] Of these authors little or nothing appears to be known. Both pieces have come down to us in MS.; see Adolfo Bartoli, _Mss. italiani della Nazionale di Firenze_, Firenze, 1884, ii. pp. 138 and 163. Concerning the first, see further, _Poesie inedite di G. Del Carretto_, by A. G. Spinelli, Savona, pp. 10-15; concerning the second, R. Renier, in the _Giornale storico della letteratura italiana_, 1885, v. p. 236, note 1. Rossi, 167^{2},^{3}; Carducci, 30^{2}, 28^{3}.

[376] _Opere_, 1516, as cited, sig. E. Rossi, 167^{4}.

[377] In _Rime_, ed. P. Fanfani, 1876-8, ii. p. 225. Rossi, 168^{1}.

[378] Rossi, 169^{2}. Carducci, 26^{3}.

[379] See B. Croce, 'Napoli dal 1508 al 1512 (da un antico romanzo spagnuolo),' in _Archivio storico per le provincie napolitane_, anno xix, fasc. i, pp. 141 and 157. Carducci, 29^{1}.

[380] _Opera nova_, Venetia, Rusconi, 1508. In the old edition the pieces are merely termed 'commedie,' the designation 'pastorali' being due to the 'Arcadian,' G. M. Crescimbeni, whose _Istoria delia volgar poesia_ originally appeared in 1698. Carducci, 41^{1}.

[381] See Carducci, p. 35. Stiefel, being only aware of the edition of 1543, hoped to find in the piece a link between Casalio and Beccari. Among several female characters introduced is one 'la quale volentieri starebbe in mezzo di due amanti o mariti: il che,' pursues Carducci, 'è del tutto opposto all' idealità delia favola pastorale.' One would have thought that certain traits in the characters of Dafne and Corisca would have occurred to him. Bitter satire on women was indeed one of the most permanent features of pastoral comedy, as it had been of the Latin eclogue.

[382] See D'Ancona, 'II teatro mantovano nel secolo _XVI_,' in the _Giornale storico_, v. p. 19. Rossi, 170^{1}.

[383] See G. Campori, _Notizie sulla vita di L. Ariosto_, Modena, 1871, p. 68. Rossi, 172^{1}. No mention of these is made by Carducci, his thesis being that the _ecloga rappresentativa_ did not obtain at Ferrara, the home _par excellence_ of the Arcadian drama. Thus, on p. 54 he writes: 'Delie parecchie ecloghe pastorali e rusticali passate in rassegna fin qui non una ce n' è o scritta o rappresentata o stampata in Ferrara, non una d'origine ferrarese. In Ferrara entriamo classicamente e signorilmente con l'_Egle_ [1545].'

[384] Rossi, 173^{1}. Carducci, 37.

[385] See L. Frati, 'Un' ecloga msticale del 1508,' in the _Giornale storico_, xx(1892), p. 186. Carducci, 27^{2}.

[386] See O. Guerrini, _Narrazione di Paolo Palliolo_, Bologna, Romagnoli, 1885, p. 96. Carducci, 31^{1}.

[387] See C. Mazzi, _La congrega dei Rozzi di Siena_, i. p. 139 and ii. p. 100. Carducci, 31^{2}. Also Rossi, 174^{3}; his suggestion of the possible identity of the two last-mentioned pieces has been shown by later research to be inadmissible.

[388] A battle was fought at Tai, near Pieve di Cadore.

[389] The number of such pieces is very large. A list appended to the _Assetta_ in 1756 runs to 109 items. An exhaustive bibliography will be found in Mazzi's work. See also the useful collection by Giulio Ferrario, forming vol. x of the 'Teatro antico' in the 'Classici italiani,' Milan, 1812. It is unfortunate that Symonds should have referred to Ferrario's list as evidence of the fertility of the pastoral drama, even though adding that the list is 'devoted solely to rural scenes of actual life,' since he can hardly escape the charge of regarding the rustic compositions as part of the pastoral drama proper--a position to which they certainly have no claim.

[390] Not, of course, to be confused with the _sacra rappresentazione_ so called.

[391] See F. Flamini's edition of Tansillo's poems, Napoli, 1893. Rossi, 171^{1}; Carducci, 39^{2}.

[392] Used, for example, by Sannazzaro, in his _Farsa_. See his 'Opere volgari,' Padova, 1723, p. 422.

[393] See E. Pèrcopo, 'M. Ant. Epicuro,' in the _Giornale storico_, 1888, xii. p. 1. Carducci, 39^{1}. The earliest edition with the later title I have met with is one dated 1533, in my possession. The British Museum has none earlier than 1535.

[394] Siena, Mazochi, 1530. Carducci, 44^{3}.

[395] It continued to be occasionally reprinted till as late as 1612. Carducci, 44.

[396] Venezia, Zoppino, 1538. Carducci, 43^{1}.

[397] It may have been a direct borrowing, for we know that Tasso was acquainted with the plays of Epicuro, whom he imitated in his _Rinaldo_ (V. 25, &c.). The _Mirzia_ is printed in 'I drammi pastorali di A. Marsi,' ed. I. Palmerini, Bologna, 1887-8. See also Pèrcopo in the _Giornale_, as cited. Carducci, 62. The authorship is a little doubtful. Creizenach, ii. 365^{1}.

[398] Firenze, 1545. Carducci, 46^{1}.

[399] _Rime_, Venezia, Giolito, 1546. Carducci, 51^{1}.

[400] Vinegia, Bertacagno, 1553. Carducci, 53^{1}.

[401] _Egle_, s.l. et a. Rossi, 176^{1}; Carducci, 54.

[402] This strong feeling concerning the incestuous nature of connexion between cousins, however strange to us, appears to have been very real in Italy in the sixteenth century. _Sorella germana_, a common term for a female cousin, is in itself sufficient evidence of the feeling. Readers of the _novelle_ will remember the discussion on the subject by Pietro Fortini in his _Novelle de' Novizi_, xxxi. The explanation of the phenomenon is no doubt to be sought in the peculiar conventions of Italian society.

[403] Speaking of the _Favola_, Carducci says: 'lo stile è quel nobile del Giraldi.' This is a point on which the opinion of a foreigner can never carry very much weight; but with all deference to Signer Carducci's judgement, I cannot help expressing my opinion that the verse is characterized by awkward verbal repetitions and a certain stiffness of expression, which impart to it a quality of heaviness similar to that found in the prose of the _Ecatommiti_. It seems to be the result of a conscious endeavour on the part of the Ferrarese to write pure Tuscan, and the reader is constantly reminded of the memorable words in the preface to the _Cortegiano_, in which Castiglione announces his intention 'di farmi più tosto conoscere per Lombardo, parlando Lombardo, che per non Toscano, parlando troppo Toscano.'

[404] Ferrara, De Rossi, 1555. Rossi, 176^{1}; Carducci, 57. The piece must not, of course, be confused either with the _Sacrifizio pastorale_, paraphrased by Firenzuola from the _Arcadia_, or with the masque called _El Sacrifizio_, performed by the Intronati at Siena in 1531, and printed in 1537.

[405] The remark is Rossi's, and, though strongly controverted by Carducci, appears to me absolutely true.

[406] 'Comedia pastorale di nuovo composta per mess. Barth. Brayda di Summariva,' Torino, Coloni da Saluzzo, 1556. Carducci, 64^{2}. The date is given as 1550 in the note, and correctly, I take it, as 1556 in the text.

[407] Vinezia, Zopini, 1583, B. M. The preface is dated Sept, 1, 1580. Carducci (71^{1}) speaks of the edition of 1586 as the first.

[408] Ferrara, Panizza, 1564. Carducci, 69^{1}.

[409] Edited by A. Solerti in the _Propugnatore_, 1891, new series, iv. p. 199. Carducci, 70^{1}.

[410] Venezia, Giolito, 1568. Carducci, 71^{2}; Klein, v. p. 61.