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diff --git a/43673-0.txt b/43673-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..afe5aeb --- /dev/null +++ b/43673-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1835 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43673 *** + +THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY + + + + +POETA DE TRISTIBUS: +OR, THE +Poet's Complaint + + +(1682) + +_Introduction and Notes by_ + +HAROLD LOVE + +PUBLICATION NUMBER 149 + +WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY + +UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES + +1971 + + +GENERAL EDITORS + + William E. Conway, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + +ASSOCIATE EDITOR + + David S. Rodes, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + +ADVISORY EDITORS + + Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_ + James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_ + Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_ + Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_ + Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_ + Earl Miner, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_ + Everett T. Moore, _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Lawrence Clark Powell, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + James Sutherland, _University College, London_ + H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_ + Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + Curt A. Zimansky, _State University of Iowa_ + +CORRESPONDING SECRETARY + + Edna C. Davis, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + +EDITORIAL ASSISTANT + + Lilly Kurahashi, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_ + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +_Poeta de Tristibus: or, the Poet's Complaint (PdT)_ was published by +two newly established booksellers, Henry Faithorne and John Kersey, +early in November 1681 (title-page dated 1682). The poem is only one of +a large number of Restoration satires on writers as a group, its nearest +neighbors in time being the pseudo-Rochester "A Session of the Poets," +the anonymous "Advice to Apollo," Mulgrave's "An Essay upon Satyr," +Otway's _The Poet's Complaint_, Robert Gould's "To Julian, Secretary to +the Muses," the anonymous "Satire on the Poets," Shadwell's _The Tory +Poets_, and Thomas Wood's _Juvenalis Redivivus_. It differs from these +in its Hudibrastic meter, the richness of its biographical detail, and a +relatively mild degree of animus against its victims, though there is +quite a deal against poetry as art and trade. + +In the two introductory epistles, we are asked to believe first that the +poem is the work of a young writer driven into exile by his poverty and +secondly that the manuscript was sent from Dover to a relative on 10 +January 1681 in acknowledgment of a piece of gold. It is possible, as +will be seen, that this reflects an actual history; however, the matter +is complicated by the existence of a second text, published by 12 +November 1681 (Luttrell's date on his copy, now at Harvard, and +apparently the only one still extant) as _The Poet's Complaint (PC)_ in +which the story is presented in a slightly different form and the text +of the poem is little more than a third the length of _PdT_. An +advertisement placed in Nathaniel Thompson's _Loyal Protestant and True +Domestick Intelligence_ on 19 November 1681 claims that the rival +version, published by Dan Brown, was printed from a "spurious and very +imperfect Copy which contains only the first Part of the said Poem, the +three last Parts (which are the most considerable) being wholly left +out, excepting some few lines of them foisted in here and there without +any Sense or Coherence" and describes the Faithorne and Kersey +manuscript as "from the Authors Original Copy in four parts (together +with several Additions and Corrections by an Ingenious Person)." In a +recent article (_PQ_, XLVII [1968], 547-562) the present editor has +argued against this account of the poem's genesis, and has proposed the +following hypothetical order of versions. (For the details of the +argument the reader is referred to the article.) + + (1) An impromptu written as _The Poet's Complaint_ on or about 30 + December 1680, for despatch to "a Person of Quality," using + materials from a commonplace book dating from circa 1677. This + assumption is based on the terminal dates of its collection of + quotations from other writers which differs from that of _PdT_, and + a disparity between the times of composition alleged in the + epistles to the two poems--_PdT_ claiming "less than a fortnight's + space" and _PC_ "less than three days space." + + (2) An enlarged version of #1 in four cantos completed by 10 + January 1681. (The "Authors Original Copy.") + + (3) The version of #2 revised and augmented by "The Ingenious + Person," who may or may not have been identical with the + "Publisher," and printed as _Poeta de Tristibus_. + +It would follow that the near-simultaneous publication of versions #1 +and #3 in November 1681 was wholly coincidental. My initial assumption +that _PC_ represents an early draft rather than a truncated copy of +_PdT_ has been reviewed with approval by my colleague David Bradley, +using criteria developed during a study of analogous situations among +Elizabethan dramatic texts. One of his most valuable observations is +that the two versions are thematically distinct, _PC_ being a satire on +backbiting, attacking those who abuse poets and poetry, and _PdT_ a more +general study of the notion "Wit versus Wealth." It is unfortunately +impossible to reproduce his more detailed comments since this would also +involve reproducing sizeable sections of _PC_; however, the basic point +concerning the direction of copying can be made in another way through +the pattern of variants revealed in extracts from the epilogue to Lacy's +_The Old Troop_ and Dryden's prologue to _Aureng-Zebe_ which are quoted +in both _PC_ and _PdT_. Collation shows that both texts are derived +from a lost intermediary which was in close though not complete +agreement with _PC_ against _PdT_. This rules out any chance that this +section of _PC_ could be derived from the printer's copy of _PdT_, and +suggests that the intermediary is more likely to have been the +hypothetical commonplace book or the MS of _PC_ than any four-canto +text, though the second possibility cannot be dismissed on textual +grounds alone. + +The only real clues to the authorship of the poem are the biographical +details of the preface and the signature initials "T.W." following the +author's epistle of _PC_--either or both of which may of course result +from a conscious intention to deceive. Surprisingly, both seem to be +relevant to the history of Thomas Ward, the author of the hudibrastic +anti-protestant satire, _England's Reformation_ (1719), who is known to +have left England at roughly the time suggested as that of the poem's +composition. In the life of Ward prefixed to _An Interesting Controversy +with Mr. Ritschel, Vicar of Hexham_ (1819), which appears to be based at +an unknown degree of removal on a personal memoir, he is said to have +been born on 13 April 1652, and to have returned to England in the +thirty-fourth year of his age after at least "five or six years" abroad, +a figure which may just be reconciled with a departure date in January +1680/1. However, other details of the case do not fit so well. To start +with, it is hard to see how a man of twenty-eight could refer, as the +author does in both epistles, to his "want of years, and a necessary +Experience in the Ages humour." Nor is it easy to reconcile Ward's +fervent Catholicism with a satiric allusion in _PC_ to non-preaching +bishops--a favorite topic of Puritan polemic--or with a reference to the +Pope as "Rome's great Idol." Ward is said in the _Life_ to have been a +Catholic before his departure, and writes movingly in _England's +Reformation_ of his friendship with the Yorkshire anchorite Father +Posket, executed in March 1679. The matter is further complicated by the +appearance of the initials "T.W." together with the dateline "Rome, June +10. 79. Stilo Novo." on a broadsheet of 1679, _A letter from Rome to a +Friend in London in Relation to the Jesuits Executed, and those that are +to be Executed in the Countryes_, which is in fact an anti-Catholic +tract vigorously supporting the executions. For this to have been the +work of Ward we would have to assume that he had set out for Rome at +least two years before the departure of the Poeta and then suffered a +violent relapse into Puritanism. On the other hand, if the pamphlet, as +is quite probable, was really the work of one of Shaftesbury's +propagandists in London, there would have been excellent reasons for +attaching the initials of a known Catholic exile. As the year 1679 is +also within the stated date-range of Ward's departure, the existence of +the broadsheet must count marginally against his being the author of +_PdT_. + +I can cast no further light on this mystery beyond proposing that if the +story of the exiled poet is in fact a fabrication, the poem may have +been the work of a younger (b. 1661) and Protestant "T.W." in the person +of Thomas Wood, Anthony à Wood's nephew, later celebrated as a legal +writer, poet, and controversialist and for his fondness for anonymous +and pseudonymous publication. Two of Wood's poems, _Juvenalis Redivivus_ +(published anonymously in 1683) and an elegy on the death of Oldham +(included with Dryden's lines in the _Remains_ of 1684), are satires on +the poets of a similar kind to _PdT_, while the second has a striking +structural similarity to its opening canto. Neither _PdT_ nor _PC_ is +included in Wood's list of his writings sent to his uncle in 1692 for +inclusion in _Athenae Oxonienses_ (Bodl. MS. Wood F.45, f.#229), nor do +they appear in _A Catalogue of Part of the Library of the Reverend Dr. +Wood_ (London, 1723); however, neither omission need be significant. A +third possibility is Thomas Walters, claimed by Anthony à Wood as the +true author of William Bedloe's tragedy, _The Excommunicated Prince_ +(1679); but I have found nothing beyond the fact he was an author to +connect him with _PdT_, nor any evidence that either he or Thomas Wood +spent the years 1681-1682 otherwise than accumulating time for their +degrees at Oxford. + +Monash University + + +BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE + +This facsimile of _Poeta de Tristibus_ (1682) is reproduced from a copy +(*PR3291/P795) in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library. + + + + +POETA DE TRISTIBUS: + +OR, THE + +Poet's Complaint. + +A + +POEM + + +_In Four_ CANTO'S. + +_Ovid de Trist._ + +_Parve, nec invideo, sine me Liber ibis in Urbem: + Hei mihi! quò_---- + +_LONDON_, + +Printed for _Henry Faitborne_ and _John Kersey_, at the +_Rose_ in St. _Paul_'s Church-Yard. 1682. + + + + +_The Publisher's Epistle to the_ + +READER. + + +_Courteous Reader_, + +The following Poem was presented me about a year ago; and (as it appears +by the Author's Epistle to me) was designed only for my Private +Divertisement: But numerous Draughts being dispers'd abroad, by the +Unworthiness of a Gentleman I Trusted it withal, I was more easily +perswaded to Publish the Original, to prevent the Inconveniencies of a +Surreptitious Copy, which, without my Allowance, was designed for the +Press. + +The Author being out of _England_, I would not venture to set his Name +to it; nor have I presumed thus far, without extraordinary regret; not +that I know any other Reason that enforces a concealment, besides that +it was sent to me with such a Bond. I am sure no particular Person can +pretend to any distaste; and _Satyr_ on general Subjects was ever +Allowable, _Religion_ and _Government_ only excepted. + +But I must Confess, that in the Third Part of this Poem, there were some +Capital Letters which began the Names of certain Poets of this Age, but +them I have so altered, lest any Offence should be given, that by them I +am sure no Discovery can be made. I will no longer detain you from your +better Divertisement in the following Poem; which, if you have any good +Nature, you cannot chuse but favour, especially if you carry along with +you those several Circumstances which in the way will offer themselves +to you in the Author's behalf. + +_Farewel._ + + + + +The Author's Epistle. + + +SIR, + +_My Obedience to your desire so happily concentring with my Inclination +to this Subject, has in less than a fortnight's space produc'd what here +you see. To you I need not make any Apology for its Artless Habit, who +very well know my want of years, and a necessary Experience in the Ages +humour; nor can you reasonably expect any extraordinary strokes from one +whose thoughts are divided between so many various Afflictions; since_ +Ovid _himself, when Condemn'd to Banishment, was forc'd to resign that +Spirit of Poetry, which animated all his Works, besides that of his_ De +Tristibus. _Besides, I must desire your Patience to observe, that (the +Verse I use being a kind of Doggrel) it is but Natural that now and then +it should run harsh and rugged; nor do I believe I have done amiss by +forcing my self sometimes to be so very plain and familiar. As for the +Rhyme and Measure, though perhaps they may not always answer the +strictest Law, yet I do not think it worth the while to make any excuse +for that, being faults so inconsiderable, that they are seldom reflected +on, but by the meanest sort of Criticks, who want judgment to discern +the Intrigues of Humour and Invention, which are the Principal +Ingredients of a Poem, and which I must needs confess are here extreamly +deficient: For as this little Poem was written_ extempore, _so it +presumes to kiss your hand in its Native unpolish'd shape, not having +the least thought or word of it Corrected; for to Morrow being the time +we design to take Shipping, I had not so much leisure as to Transcribe +it._ + +_I must Confess, it seems unnatural, that one who pretends to the Title +of a Poet, should endeavour, as I have done, to disparage his own +Profession. However, the Poets of this Age, whom it most concerns, I +hope will not take it unkindly of me, since doing thus, I only follow +the Example they have given me; for in that short time of my Residence +in_ London, _among all the Poets I was in Company with, I heard little +else besides their Complaints, and unmerciful damnings both of the Times +and one another. Neither have I seen a Modern Play but either began or +ended in the same Tune. Some few of which I have, for Example-sake, here +presumed to quote._ + + +In the Prologue to _Aurenzebe_. + + _The Clergy thrives, and the Litigious Bar,_ + _Dull Heroes fatten by the Spoils of War._ + _All Southern Vices (Heav'n be prais'd) are here,_ + _But Wit's a Luxury you count too dear._ + +In the Epilogue to the _Libertine_. + + _S Death! What a Devil would you have us do?_} + _Each take a Prison, and there humbly sue,_ } + _Angling for single Money in a Shoe?_ } + +In the Epilogue to _Monsieur Rogooe_. + + _I Am a Poet, and I'll prove it plain,_ + _Both by my empty Purse, and empty Brain._ + _I've other Reasons to confirm it too;_ + _I've great, and self-conceits of all I do._ + _As for my Play, I Pawn'd it to some Cit,_ + _At least six Months before my Play was writ._ + _But when the third day comes, away I run,_ + _Knowing that then in sholes come all my Duns._ + _If these things make me not a proper Poet,_ + _He that has better Title, let him shew it._ + +In the Prologue to _Theodosius_; Or the Force of Love. + + _On Poets only no kind Star e're smil'd,_ + _Curst Fate has damn'd 'em every Mothers Child._ + _Therefore he warns his Brothers of the Stage_ + _To write no more to an ingrateful Age._ + _Think what penurious Masters you have serv'd;_ + Tasso _ran mad, and Noble_ Spencer _starv'd_. + _Turn then, who e're thou art, that canst Write well,_ + _Thy ink to Gall, and in Lampoons excell._ + _Forswear all Honesty, traduce the Great,_ + _Grow Impudent, and rail against the State;_ + _Bursting with Spleen, abroad thy Pasquils send,_ + _And choose some Libel-spreader for thy Friend._ + _The Wit and Want of_ Timon _point thy Mind,_ + _And for thy Satyr-subject chuse Mankind._ + +In the Prologue to the Unhappy Favourite; or the Earl of _Essex_. + + _The Merchant, joyful with th' hopes of Gain,_ + _Ventures his Life and Fortunes on the Main;_ + _But the poor Poet oft'ner does expose_ + _More than his Life, his Credit, for Applause._ + +In the Epilogue to the same Play. + + _Let those who call us Wicked, change their Sence,_ + _For never Men liv'd more on Providence:_ + _Not Lott'ry Cavaliers are half so poor,_ + _Nor broken Cits, nor a Vacation Whore;_ + _Not Courts, nor Courtiers living on the Rents_ + _Of the three last ungiving Parliaments._ + _So Wretched, that if_ Pharaoh _could Divine,_ } + _He might have spar'd his Dream of seven lean Kine,_} + _And chang'd the Vision for the Muses Nine._ } + +And a little after. + + _'Tis not our want of Wit that keeps us poor,_ + _For then the Printer's Press would suffer more:_ + _Their Pamphleteers their Venom daily spit,_ + _They thrive by Treason, and we starve by Wit._ + +_Now I do not blame these Ingenuous Gentlemen for inveighing against the +thing to which they owe their Ruin; nor were it to any purpose to +endeavour to conceal a Truth so generally taken notice of: For who is +Ignorant of this, that a Man, in all Professions, except that of Poetry, +may with Honour advance a Livelihood? But that (though it may be +sometimes found proper for the Divertisement of those few who have +leisure to read it) was ever known to be most unprofitable to the +Authors; for few or none have been Advanced by it, though many have been +hindred by this Art of Versifying, from making their Fortune otherwise +in the World. Yea, this Profession is grown so Vile and abject, that +whereas others count it an Honour to be stiled Physicians, Barristers, +or the like; these are offended with the very Name of Poet: And that +with good Reason too, since Poetry only glories in Disguising the Truth; +for which cause it begins to be Banished even from Theatres, to which +alone it was Destinated; and Prose is now come in request, being +prefer'd for its Gracefulness and Naturalness above it: By which means +this Art is in danger to be confin'd to the Corners of Streets; to serve +only for Songs and Ballads. Hence it was that_ Ovid _was so severely +Punished by his Father, to make him leave off this Art, which proved so +unlucky to him, that he became of a Rich_ Roman _Knight, a Miserable +Exile among_ Barbarians. _Hence_ Plato _was pleased to Banish it out of +his imaginary Common-Wealth. And_ Philip, _the first Christian Emperour, +denied them those Immunities which he granted to all others. Numerous +Instances of this Nature offer themselves to my Pen, but I must take +care not to stretch my Epistle too far, for fear you should Reflect on +it, what was formerly said on Sir_ William D'avenant's _Preface before +his_ Gondibert, + + A Preface to no Book, a Porch to no House, + Here is the Mountain, but where is the Mouse? + +_However, I must not neglect to desire this one Favour of you, that +after you have taken the pains to peruse these undigested Lines, you +would be pleased to bestow on them a Funeral Fire; or if you apprehend +that Sentence to be too severe, I do most earnestly beg of you to keep +them Secret to your self, without shewing them to your trustiest Friend, +at least, with my Name_ _to them. It were superfluous now to engage you +not to convey them to the Censorious World through the Press, since +that, and more was already by the precedent Caution imply'd; besides, +the Opinion I have of your Candour, is better grounded, than to admit of +any such Jealousie._ + +_I will now only add my most hearty Thanks for all your Favours, +particularly for the Piece of Gold I Received inclosed in your last +Letter; and had some others of my Relations proved as kind to me as your +self, or had I in my own Countrey met with encouragement any way sutable +to my Endeavours, I had not in this Passion shaken hands with it. But +now I am in hast to be gone, yet will for ever remain,_ + +_Dearest Cousin!_ + +Your assured, Faithful Friend, +and most Humble Servant. + +Dated at _Dover_ the Tenth +day of _January, 1680/1_. + + POETA DE TRISTIBUS: + + OR, THE + + Poet's Complaint. + + A + + POEM. + + + + +_The First CANTO._ + + + Since here I'm bandy'd up and down + By the keen blows of Fortunes frown, + Whil'st Art and Nature vainly strive + To make th' unhappy Poet live; + I'le fly such Native Plagues as these + For Refuge, to the calmer Seas: + And try if boading Stars dispence + Ev'ry where the same influence. + Climes vary Constitutions, so + Why may not they change Fortunes too? + Through th' habitable World I'le go, + And if that fails, I'le search for new. + Wit somewhere has a happy Reign, + Or Nature gives us Thoughts in vain. + Tho' here her bounty she provides + For ev'ry thing which breaths besides. + + The Dunce made Batchelor of Art, + Some Fustian Sermon learns by heart, + Then Preaches 'fore a Country Squire,} + Who his deep Learning does admire, } + And gives him sixscore pounds a year.} + But he must Marry th' Chamber-Maid, + Who is, forsooth, a Mistress made: + So he goes on with a fair hope, + And of his Pulpit makes a Shop. + + So Quacks as eas'ly as they will, + Can get Licenses to kill, + Whil'st the hungry Poet may } + For an _Imprimatur_ stay, } + Till h'has eaten up his Play.} + + Yet since the Press has lately had + Its Liberty, 'tis near as bad. + For scarce a broken Shop-keeper, + Or a cast Serving man grown bare, + But herds among our starved Crew, + And falls a Writing Poems too. + The Plot, the Jesuit, and the Pope + Are now grown Theams for ev'ry Fop. + Who by such wretched, Ballad-ware, + Makes Writing cheap, and Paper dear. + + See how the gaping Merchants range, + Hunting their Chapmen on the Change, + Whose Various Voices frame a sound, + Like Billows when their Ships are drown'd, + And in one hour more fat do sweat + Than th' Poet in a year can get. + Those worst of Atheists! who do hold + There is no Deity but Gold! + They hate the Poet 'cause he's poor, + And only th' Golden Calf adore. + Our Plays, they say, are wicked dear, + Th' expence in Ballads will go far. + Nay, I protest I've heard some say + Plays are a kind of Popery. + I'th' City-shops they're thought Profane, + As were Minc'd-pies in _Cromwel_'s Reign. + Where, when for _Dryden_'s Works I came, + They vow'd they never heard his Name. + But they had _Baxter_'s, if you please, + And such-like precious things as these. + Bless 'em from Plays; they'd rather go + Unto a Conventicle, or so. + + The Stationer grows fat on th' gain, + He sucks from the poor Poet's brain. + He, and the Printer, who does know + Nothing beyond the Cris-cros-row, + Do still their Heads together joyn + To cheat the Poet of his Coyn. + Whil'st he, poor Drudge! must toil and sweat + Honourable stabs to get; + And is forc'd to sigh, and stay + For the Lawrel 'till he's gray: + And at last together come + To his Honour, and his Tomb. + Tho' when dead, his Friends may'nt raise + Enough to gild his Fun'ral Bays. + + The Players, who scarce know to write + Their Names, or spell one word aright, + Or read their Parts, unless writ fair + In a large _Roman_ Character, + Call us their Slaves, who for their gain + Must toil, and all their faults sustain. + In gay Attire each day they shine; + Eat well, and drink the Richest Wine, + All fat and plump, except some few + The _French-man_ prov'd invet'rate to. + Look how they strut it as they go! } + And in the streets make such a show,} + As if they'ld there Act Princes too!} + While th' Poet sneaking all alone + In some by-lane where he's unknown; + No farther than his Pot can go, + And has a Pipe to th' bargain too. + + I hardly a poor Lawyer know, + Unless some who are Poets too. + They thrive by Rapine and Revenge, + And making Enemies of Friends: + Feeding on others hopes and fears, + On Orphants groans, and Widows tears. + In short, the World it self; and all + We Trade, and Art, and Science call, + Are grand Impostures; false and vain, + Invented but to bring in gain. + + Astronomy does our Faith engage, + And with dark Notions cheats the Age: + But take off its Disguise, you'll see + It is as feign'd as Poetry. + Else let it for a certain show + Whether this Globe has Wings or no, + Or _Ovid_ blame, who said, the Sun + Did run away with _Phaëton_. + I cannot chuse but laugh to think + If these poor Moon-calves had no Drink + But that same thinnish, blewish Whey + Press'd from green Cheese i'th' Milky-way; + When Goddesses make the New Moon, + How soon they'd throw their Cross-staves down! + + What is Geometry, I'ld know, + But a false Brat of Fancy too? + If 'tis a Science, let it tell + How far from hence the Stars do dwell; + And due proportion give between + A _direct_ and a _crooked Line_. + Yet while the Dotards sit at home, + Each _Line_ is tip't with Golden _Plumme_; + And still we find that each _Right-Angle_ + Some Gain or other does entangle; + As Tonnellers catch Partridge; so + Geometricians, you must know, + Although in other things but Asses, } + They eat, and drink, and sleep with Lasses} + Between the Legs of their _Compasses_. } + + So th' Natural Philosopher + 'S perpetual Motion keeps a stir, + But straight his Engines rest obtain, + And all the Motion's in his brain; + Except some easie hand, forsooth, + That opens but to fill his mouth. + + Rhet'rick, which we so much adore, + Ne'r had a perfect Orator. + And yet their mouths provide; I trow,} + As lame and cripled people's do, } + Who lie, because they cannot go. } + + And what is Logick, but a cheat? + Nothing, or something worse than it. + A _Delphick_ Sword, bends any way } + To make Truth yield to Sophistry, } + And bring home Gold from _BARBARA_.} + + The lingring Chymsts blow their fire, + Till their own Lamps of Life expire; + And searcheth for th' Inchanted stone, + Till they themselves grow cold as one; + Which they would quickly do, but that + 'Tis written in the Book of Fate, + The great work (much too great for one) + Cannot be carried on alone, + But asks more hands; and so another, + That's Rich, helps his poor Chymick Brother. + + Speak, dull Philosopher; what's all + You, in mistake, do Science call? + Since _Socrates_ with much ado, + Learn'd only that he nothing knew. + There's nothing unconfin'd and free, + Except the Soul of Poetry, + When it does on our Organs play. + Throw all your Mystick Books away, + And study Natures Library: + Mount up to Heaven's refulgent Throne, + There by the Lab'ring Muses drawn. + First, pause a while, then Write, and all + The Gods to Convocation call; + Then with Imperious frowns survey + Poor Mortals damn'd to treading clay; + And raising Piles, till pitying Fate + Pulls the brick ruins on their pate. + There laugh at Princes, who do groan + Under the burden of a Crown: + And condemn Riches, which we see} + Is but a Golden Slavery; } + We're Richer far in Poetry. } + But hold!---- + I'm almost starv'd, as I'm a Sinner, + Prethee, _Jack_, Trust me for a Dinner. + + Poor Poet! what a wretch th'art grown? + Cast to a Dungeon from a Throne! + Thou who but now did'st reach the Sky, + Low as Despair art forc'd to lie: + Those soaring thoughts thou didst admire, + With thy Poetick rage expire. + 'Twas but a Dream, and now I see + Riddles unty'd to Fetter me. + The Angels height procur'd their Thrall, + But 'tis my lowness makes me Fall. + Had Nature giv'n me a Rich Mine, + As other Fops I'd happy been; + Nor had I been exposed thus, + To make my plaints ridiculous. + + For Wit and Wealth such Rivals are, + That they can't Reign in the same Sphere, + But as when Kings each other thwart, + Th' unhappy Subjects feel the smart: + So those t' whom Nature has been kind, + Must Fortunes Rage and Malice find. + And 'till these Friends and Partners grow, + Who can have Wit and Money too? + But if the World hath such a Creature, + He's Monstrous, and not made by Nature. + Poets are Chymists, who want skill + To perfect Metals as they will; + Yet Clothes, or Money, what you please, + Be sure they'l turn to _Sack_ with ease; + Then with that _Sack_ they can prepare } + Castles, nay, Kingdoms in the Air, } + And carve themselves whole Lordships there.} + But since they here so disagree + About a paltry Lawrel Tree, + I wonder what a Dev'l they do, + When to these fancy'd Lands they go: + But hold! they'l all be De'ties there, + And every one will have his Sphere. + For all the Gods of which we read, + Were by th' Almighty Poets made: + And they who did their God-heads make, + May at their pleasures take 'em back. + + + + +_The Second CANTO._ + + + How often have I seen the Taylor, + The Shoe-maker, and Milliner, + And ev'ry Fop that sells his Ware, + O're this poor Creature domineer? + And I can't choose but let you know it, + How a curst _Broker_ met a _Poet_, + Walking through _Smithfield_ on a time, + O're whom he swagger'd thus in Rhime. + + Is this your Wit! the Devil take it! + For without question he did make it. + The truest Wit is Honesty, + And to get Coyn your Debts to pay. + Wit is an Ass, when Money's slow; + Nay, 'tis that makes the Ass to go. + Why? I am but a mean Trades-man, + And yet do more than any Poet can. + I walk the Streets, yet fear no Dun, + Nor in their Debts, nor from 'em run. + Nor yet for fear of being found out, + Do walk half a mile about. + Altho' you're in _White-Fryers_ lurking, + I've certain Ingeneers a working: + And, Sir, unless you quickly pay me, + Expect a Visit from a _Baylie_. + + This Language less dismaid the Poet, + Having been long accustom'd to it: + Howe're, he thought it not amiss + To give him these fair promises. + + Sweet Sir! I vow I'm mighty sorry + You've so long tarry'd for your Mony: + But should you my late Suff'rings hear, + Pity would force you to forbear. + Howe're, as soon as th' Term begin} + I shall recruit my self agen; } + For my _Play_ will be ready then. } + Last Night the _Lord_--read what I'd made on't; + And should I tell you what he said on't, + 'Twould be immodest in the Author; + But you'll hear more of it hereafter. + How'ere, to tell you as a Friend, + He did it mightily commend. + And 'twixt me and you, he said, } + He did not question to perswade } + The _King_, and _Court_, to see it Play'd.} + And if it takes, (which I don't fear) + 'Tmay bring an hundred pounds, or near. + And for your great Civility, + Sir, you're the first I intend to pay. + + When this Doggrel Speech was ended,} + The Poet, having lowly bended, } + Took his leave, by me attended. } + We had not walk'd past half so far + As 'twixt _Fleet-Bridge_ and _Temple-Bar_, + Ere my sad Brother was so kind, + As thus to let me know his mind. + + Oh, wretched Man! what shall I do! + Or whither had I best to go! + _Job_ happy was, compar'd to me, + A Prince in th' midst of's misery. + Oh Heavens! since all his Griefs I know, + Why have I not his Patience too? + Hells self less Torment does contain + Than is lodg'd in a Poet's brain; + Howe're we may hereafter fare, + I'm sure we meet Damnation here. + I'd rather be a Dog; or Cat, + The thing which next my self I hate. + A Snake, an Adder, or a Toad: + To these once _Egypt_'s Dotage bow'd. + But me, the wretched'st thing e'r Born, + Ev'n these by instinct loath and scorn. + Then sighing, _Oh, my Play_! he cry'd; + My _Play_ both _Houses_ have deny'd. + They tell me, that their Summer-store + Will all this Winter last, or more: + Besides, that mine won't please the Times, + Being Tragedy, and writ in Rhimes. + Oh, I am ruin'd utterly! + What shall I do! _My Play_! _My Play_! + There's no one knows what pains I took, + Ere I stretch'd it, to a Book. + Nine Months my _Muse_ labour'd to bring + Forth this Abortive, hapless thing: + And suffer'd more than can be told + Of Summers heat, and Winters cold. + I've walk'd from Morning until Noon, + 'Twixt _Lyon-Fields_ and _Kentish-Town_; + Study'ng my self hungry and dry, + I envy'd th' Beggers on the way. + Then being forc'd to jogg it home + Empty as a _vacuum_: + I'd no way to appease my _Hostess_, + But vow my _Play_ finish'd almost is; + Then reading what I'd made of't o're, + She'ld trust me for one shilling more. + But since she heard it was refus'd, + None can guess how I've been us'd. + 'Bout Eight o'th'Clock on Thursday Morning, + (My Angel then giving me warning) + I had scarce lock'd my Door, but th' Baily + Knock'd, saying, he'd a Letter for me: + From first to last, he knock'd an hour, + Ere I could get him to give o're; + But when he saw it was in vain, + The Rogue went swearing back again. + But from that time to Sunday Morning, + I kept the Fort, for all their Storming. + Then without fear away I went; + Thanks to the _King_ and _Parlement_. + And now it is five days compleat, + Since I had any thing to eat: + Nor know I where to get Relief, + No, not one Meal to save my Life. + I've not a Neighbour, or Relation, + But when they see me, quit their Station, + And from me, as a Plague, they go, + I wish my Creditors would do so! + The Dev'l a rag of Clothes has _Jack_ + 'Sides these you see upon my back; + And they're so torn, I'm taken still + For a walking Paper-Mill. + + My _Hat_ is like a Funnel grown, + To vent the Vapours of my Crown. + + M' Eternal _Peruque_ does appear + Golden, as _Apollo_'s Hair. + And the Moss which hides my Face + Is thicker, and as long as his. + + My _Breeches_ like th' Ship _Argo_ seem, + Which is, and yet is not the same; + For 'tis so patch'd, you cannot call + One shred of 't the Original. + + As for my _Cloak_, 'tis well enough. + Only 'tis out of Fashion now. + But I'm content my Rags 't does hide, + For this is an ill time for Pride. + + My _Stockings_ are worse rent and torn, + Than ever _Poverty_ was drawn: + And round about more _Stars_ appear } + Than _Ursa major_ has in th' Sphere,} + Or any _Constellation_ there. } + + My _Shoes_ made of thin _Spanish_ Leather, + Do sigh, and sob this Rainy Weather: + And in dumb Language of their own, + Pity mine, 'cause their _Souls_ are gone. + + As for my _Linnen_, let 't alone,} + It needs not a Description; } + As I'm a Poet, I have none. } + + My lac'd _Crevat_ lies in _Shoe-Lane_, + Pawn'd for Tripe, and Chitterlin, + With an honest Mother there, + One Mistress _Smith_, a Victualler. + + My _Shirt_ lies Morgag'd in a Celler, + About the middle of _Long-Acre_, + With a Shee-Cook, call'd _Goody Dutton_, + For Porrage, Beans, and Chops of Mutton. + + Oh that I had a wooden Leg! + Or but one Arm, then might I beg! + I'd Steal or Cheat, did I know how, + 'Tis better hang than perish so. + + I could not hear this piteous moan + Unmov'd, nor let him sigh alone. + But when I'd all the Comfort gave, + He could from Friendly Advice receive; + I lent him six-pence, which was half + Of the small Stock I had my self. + Then after many thanks, and vows, + Unto _White-Fryers_ straight he goes: + Where Bread and Cheese he said he'ld buy; + Or fill himself with Curds and Whey. + + You see what Malice Fate has shown } + To this poor Wretch, who once was known} + To be the gayest Spark in Town. } + One who would play at six-pence gleek, + And go to _Creswel_'s once a week: + Who Din'd at _Locket_'s ev'ry day, + And sate in th' Boxes at a Play. + Envy it self cannot dispraise + His Poems, nor some of his Plays. + Three of which just Applause did bear + In the _Royal Theatre_. + Lords and Knights desired to be + Made happy in his Company; + And did with a due Rev'rence mark + Him, as he walk'd the Streets or _Park_. + But this did in a moment cease, + 'Twas but a sudden, short-liv'd blaze, + Like that which is from Meteors sent, + Which end their Shine when th' Fuel's spent. + Running in Debt, and living High,} + And the hissing of his last Play,} + Did bring him to this Misery. } + + May all the Sons of _Helicon_ } + Take heed, this Fate prove not their own!} + For I've a shrewd suspicion! } + I've seen the briskest of our Crew + Walk peny-less, and hungry too, + In _Temple-walks_, 'bout Dinner-time, + Digesting his crude thoughts int' Rhime; + Where, if he meets with a Sir-fool, + With empty Head, and Pockets full, + Up to him straight he'll make, and cry, + Where does your Worship Dine to day? + I was this Morning bid by two; } + But Faith I don't much care to go,} + I'd rather take a bit with you. } + Then, stretching, swears he is not right, + Since being plaguy drunk last Night. + And's Company, you needs must know, + _My Lord_--_Sir John_--and God knows who. + But tho' the Gallant he attacks, + Not the least Invitation makes: + He must, he says, out of esteem, + Not that he's Hungry, wait on him. + Then as soon as Dinner's ended, + And his last Work read and commended, + (Which without Vanity, he says, + Is th' best he writ, his Master-piece.) + He whisp ring in his Cully's ear, + Makes his Necessity appear: + Tells him of his last-nights expence, + And how he's not recruited since. + Then begs his Pard'n, he must away,} + To get a Ticket for th' new Play, } + Acted at the _Duke's House_ to day.} + + I've sev'ral _Coffee-Houses_ known} + By these unhappy Guests undone, } + For People, now adays, are grown } + So wise, they first of all peep in,} + And if a Poet there is seen, } + They presently down stairs agen. } + For who a Devil cares to sit + To be drawn by a Poet's wit? + Sir _Am'rous_ can't make a Relation + Of his last-nights Assignation. + The _Sycophant_ can't exercise + His Art, for these quick-sighted Spies: + Nor _Fopling_ comb his Wigg, but they + Make it a Humour for a Play. + The Cheat, the Pick-pocket, and Bully, + (Who're the best Guests, and spend most Money) + Flie the loath'd House where these appear, + As if the Constable were there. + + But there are some of Honour yet, } + Who're great pretenders unto Wit, } + And that they m'seem t' encourage it,} + Will have a Poet at their tail; + And whom to know that you mayn't fail, + Has an old-fashion thread-bare Coat, + Foul Linnen, Hat not worth a groat. + If it be Summer, Freeze he'l wear; } + In th' Winter Stuff, and that so bare, } + His Lice can scarce find Harbour there.} + Perhaps, he wears a Sword by's side, + To 'ts Hilt one yard of Ribband ty'd. + In fine, by all he meets, he's t'ane + To be th' _Epitome_ of _Long-Lane_. + And when their Lordships walk before + To th' Tavern, or to see a Whore, + He's caution'd not to come too nigh, + Lest he disgrace the Company: + But b'hind like one new fluxt does crawl, + And lets each Foot-boy take the Wall. + But when he comes to th' place design'd, + Their Lordships use to seem more kind. + There he may swagger, swear, and lie, + And do any thing--but pay. + Then after a sufficient stay, + Borrows a Crown, and so good-by'e. + + + + +_The Third CANTO._ + + + I'd e'en forgot to let you know + The Club w' once kept in _Channel-row_; + Where _A_. & _B. C. D._ & _I_, + Were th' elements o' th' Company: + But all which past there was so common, + 'Tis scarce worth th' pains of a Relation, + How they kept a hideous pother, + Damning the Times, and one another. + Who most Glasses did destroy, + Or with most Courage beat the Boy. + How such-a-one commends a Whore, + Which t'other prizes Sack before. + Or who so neatly div'd away, + Ere he his Reckoning did pay. + Humours so trite as these, are known + To ev'ry Tapster in the Town. + But e're they so unruly grew, + Thus each ones Character I drew. + + _A._ as 'tis first in th' Alphabet, + So here he took the highest seat. + As one whose Fortune, Birth, and Wit, + Indeed did truly merit it. + And here he neither struts nor swaggers, + As I have known some Kings o' th' Beggers. + But that convenient distance gave, + Which else they'ld take without his leave. + But him let all with Rev'rence name + The Darling, and the Pride of Fame: + Who's so all over wrapt in Bays, + There's nothing to be seen but's Praise. + He's one t' whom each Officious Muse + Were of their Favours so profuse, + That they have brought themselves to be + Fed by his Mercy now; and we, + The little Infants of the Art, } + Do as severely feel the smart, } + Deny'd a Younger Brothers part. } + Nay, all our stocks won't mount t' a sum + To pay him an _Encomium_. + He's one whose Works, in times to come, + Will be as Honour'd, and become + Deathless as _Ben's_ or _Cowley's_ are, } + As _Beaumont_, _Fletcher_, or _Shakespear_,} + One he himself is pleas'd t' admire. } + Nor could these Laureats living, be + Better prefer'd, or lov'd than he. + What could the _Muses_ more have done, + Or _Apollo_ for a Son? + Yet still he discontented is, + And snarles at all the happiness + The Richest Poetry can bring, + And wounds it too with its own Sting. + But who can blame that Active Soul, + Which in a larger Sphere would roul? + Whose Wit and Learning does deserve + More than that narrow Art can give. + + Next unto _A. B._ took his place, + Or Sir _Fopling_, if you please. + I mean that Famous Limner, who + So exactly his own Picture drew. + Bless me! how neat a Wigg he has! + What a rich Watch and Pocket-Glass! + What a gay Suit trim'd all about! + Made by a _French-man_ without doubt. + His Ruffles and Cravat's all Lace, + _Poynt a Venice_ he says it is. + To what advantage does he wear + His Rings? How stuft with Stones they are? + One having this Inscription, + _My Plow is all my Portion_. + For you must know he's kept by a Miss, + A _French_ one too, I've heard she is; + Whose Favours tho' he strives to shew, + Her scars he has, I assure you too. + Here I must his Description end, + For fear he should a Challenge send. + Tho' he had better stay at home, + To Hector Foot-boy, or a Groom. + + On th' other side Heroick _C._ + Did seat himself most formally. + Whose Clothes now did not seem so bad, + Because he lately vampt 'em had. + His Hat new dress'd, darn'd were his Hose, + And neatly underlay'd his Shoes. + His Lac'd Cravats again appear, } + And his kind Laundress lets him wear} + His Ruffles, and an Hankercher. } + And now he seems to be a made Man, + Since he an Int'rest got in _Cadem_-- + Who now-and-then does not refuse + A Crown, t' encourage a slow Muse, + A Dish of Coffee, or Bochet, + Or on a Sunday a Meals-meat. + And 'tis most Charitably done, + T' encourage such a wretched one, + Without hopes of a Recompence, + At least 'till two or three years hence, + About which time his Play, we guess, + Will be ready for the Press. + He's one who much of _Oxford_ talks, + Its stately Structures, Air, and Walks: + Who, in his time, were Proctors there; } + How often he was caught, and where, } + Or with what craft he 'scap'd the snare.} + But if you speak one word of's Chumb, + The man immediately grows dumb. + + Then who sat next, if you would know it, + 'Twas _D._ the brisk lack-latine Poet; + Who'll talk of _Virgil_ and _Horatius_, + _Homer_, _Ovid_, and _Lucretius_. + And by the help of I know who, + Sometimes presumes to quote 'em too. + He's the fam'd Comedian of the Town,} + Who near a dozen Plays does own, } + Tho' I dare swear he ne'r writ one: } + But he has good Acquaintance, thô, + I am inform'd, a Lord or two, + To whom he brings the lump; and they + Club to mould it to a Play. + And if my Author tells me right, + Epistles too themselves they write. + May they continue to do so, } + Or else poor _D._ to th' Goal must go,} + _Angling for single Money in a Shoe_. } + + Lastly, I must my self explain, + One of the same unhappy Train: + Who neither Wit or Learning boast, + For both are in a Poet lost. + Scatter'd to nought in his Carreer, + Through Airy Roads, he knows not where. + Neither do I hope to find + One grain of Fortune left behind. + For all I grasp'd which pleas'd me here, + Whether they Wealth, or Honours were, + As soon they were snatch'd back again, + And swallow'd in this Hurricane. + But, Sir, I need not op'e to you } + These Ulcers of my Fate anew, } + You've seen so oft, and pitty'd too.} + I'll therefore only blame the Cause + Which did such Miseries produce: + And then for ever bid good-by'e + To that starv'd Hag of Poetry. + + + + +_The Fourth CANTO._ + + + _Phoebus!_ art thou the God of Wit, + Yet takest no more care of it? + Because thou art invok'd by us, + Must we be damn'd and tortur'd thus? + And art resolv'd, lean Poverty + Shall still thy Badge and Liv'ry be? + As well, let Paper-Mills, and all + The lousie Tribe of Begger's Hall, + With the ragged Gipsie-Crue, + Be Dedicated to thee too! + All the _Muses_ ask thee why + Thou 'dopt'st 'em to such Slavery! + And suffer'st ev'ry Fop in Town, } + For to insult and trample on } + These rad'ent Di'dems of thy Crown!} + Sure thou want'st _Pow'r_ to Rule below; + For 'tis not _Policy_ to do so. + No! _Kings_ their Greatness do secure + By their _Subjects_ Wealth and Pow'r. + Nay, th' _Gods_ may lose their Deities, + If their Religious _Votaries_ + Do so Poor and Needy grow, + That they want _Victims_ to bestow. + But Wit will above all things cease, + Deny'd the helps of Wealth and Ease. + It must be cherish'd and kept warm; + Which, like the _Halcyon_, hates a Storm. + But since I find I am us'd so, + And treated worse than _Turk_ or _Jew_: + Since the Tinker and his Trull + Strut it with their Bellies full: + Since the Cobler and the Sweep-Chimney + Live happier and more safe than me, + I'll quit thy Service, great _Apollo_, + And some new Vocation follow: + And tear thy _Idea's_ from my Brain, + With thy starv'd, wretched Female Train. + + But must I from thy Service go + Naked, in mid'st of Winter too? + Did I for this a year, or more, + Thy Airy, empty Shrine adore? + Are thus my Cares and Watchings pay'd? + The thousand Vows and Pray'rs I made? + The Lights which on thy Altar shone, + When thou wert forc'd to hide thy own? + Think how ost thou hast me espy'd + Walking by such a Rivers side! + When I saw thy shining Beam + Gild the smooth Surface of the Stream, + Thou know'st I did thy Image greet, + And sang a thousand Hymns to it. + But since I find I am thus serv'd, + Rent and torn, and almost starv'd, + Yet would'st thou have me longer stay + To expect a fairer Day? + Should I be couzen'd to do so, + And again my Vows renew, + My Case would never better'd be } + Under thy Conduct, no, tho' I } + Should share in th' Immortality.} + + Loath'd Muse! Hag of my rest, be gone! + Who'rt Scandalous as Av'rice grown: + Common as any _Whetstone_-Whore, + Where Poets learn their Stage-Amour. + Go jilt among thy Vot'ries there, + And clap 'em with Poetick fire! + Flie to some Rhymer of the Town, + By his lean, hungry Visage known! + That Renegado, whifling Blade, + Who's not himself but when he's Mad! + But 'tis not all thy _Syren_-charms + Can again tempt me to thy Arms: + For I too well thy Couz'nage know, + Thy hollow Heart, and painted Brow. + How first thou to my Brain did'st creep, + And whil'st my Sense was lock'd in sleep, + Thou did'st before my Fancy's Eye + A thousand gaudy Fantasms lay. + Then thorow false Perspectives show + Groves, where gilded Lawrels grow. + And ev'ry Tree's Ambrosiack Root + With Arms of Nectar clasp'd about, + In whose bright Streams I did espie + Nine Naked Airy Ladies play: + Some swimming on their Backs were seen, + Who rise aloft, then dive agen; + Whilst others yet more Am'rous grew,} + And seem'd not only to bestow } + Brimmers, but gave Embraces too. } + And th' little Mansions where they dwell,} + Were some of Gold, and some of Pearl, } + Tyl'd and Pav'd with Tortoise-shell. } + + A hundred things as vain as these, + Did once my partial Fancy please: + But when I look'd about to know + Whether they real were, or no; + I apprehended the mistake, + As Dreams of Pleasures when we 'wake. + For when the crafty _Muses_ thought + They'd me for a Disciple got; + They took the painted Scene away; + Lay'd down their Smiles and Flattery, + And now in their own Shapes appear + Rough, and Ghastly, as they are. + + Wherefore once more, Ladies adieu! + Farewel to _England_, and to you. + For I'm resolv'd; and now ev'n Gain + Shan't draw me to yee back again. + Tho' _Juno_ should assure me more, + Than she did _Paris_ heretofore: + Or _Venus_ too at the same time; + I would not give 'em thanks in Rhyme. + No, tho' should all of you agree + To give your _Helicon_ to me. + Tho' those dear Bays I once did woo, } + Should strive to cling about my Brow;} + Nay, thô they were gilded too. } + I'ld thence those fruitless Branches tear, + And throw 'em with my Muse in th' fire. + So what she so long courted, shall + At last adorn her Funeral. + + Here I would end, be'ng much in hast, + And tyr'd with scribbling so fast: + Howe're a word or two I'll add, + Lest you infer from what I've said, + That Poverty's the only cause + Which makes me thus desert my Muse. + Thus far, indeed, the cause 't'as bin, + As 'tis th' effect of such a sin. + For who 'n that Art can hope to thrive, + Which does such wicked Licence give? + Whose first Founders _Pagans_ were, + Groping for Truth they knew not where? + And shall we _Christians_ Sacrifice + To their Fantastick _Deities_? + No, were I Rich 'nough to set up, + I would not keep a Poet's Shop; + Nor Traffick in such dang'rous Ware, + They sell so cheap, and buy so dear. + I'ld not pick up each Whore I meet, } + Give her a _Guynie_ and a Treat; } + Nor maintain Pimps nor Bawds for wit.} + No, I'ld not give one brass Half-crown + For all the Bawdry in the Town: + For all th' Intrigues your _Whetstone_-Bawd, + _More-Fields_, or _Tower-Hill_ afford. + To see _Miss Betty_ ev'ry day, + Dance Naked, or the Tumbler play. + How well upon her Head she stood, + Or with what Art she us'd the Rod. + Or how she was unrig'd and kick'd, + When _Sir John_ found his Pockets pick'd. + + I have not been at _Newgate_ yet, + To learn the Lifter, or the Cheat. + But such lewd Learning let alone + To the brisk _Poets_ of the _Town_. + +_FINIS._ + +PRESS VARIANTS + +AND + +NOTES + + + + +PRESS VARIANTS + + +Copies collated: Clark (CLC); Trinity College, Cambridge, H. 6. 93^9 +(CT1) and H. 10. 28^6 (CT2); British Museum (L); Folger (WF1); +Folger/Luttrell (WF2). + + +Sheet B--Outer Forme. + +_Uncorrected_: CT1, CT2, L, WF1. + +_Corrected_: CLC, WF2. + +B4^v, _l._ 7. Paragraph indentation supplied. + + +Sheet B--Inner Forme. + +_Uncorrected_: CLC, CT1, WF1. + +_Corrected_: CT2, L, WF2. + +B4^r, _l._ 1. Chymsts] Chymists + + +Sheet C--Inner Forme. + +_Uncorrected_: CT1, CT2, CLC + +_Corrected_: L, WF1, WF2. + +C3^v, _l._ 15. _Peruque_] _Perruque_ + +C4^r, _l._ 13. _Crevat_] _Cravat_ + + + + +NOTES + + +These notes are of necessity selective and are chiefly concerned with +the identification of persons. No attempt has been made to indicate the +complex textual relationships of the two versions. Where detailed +evidence for identifications is not given, the reader is referred to the +article mentioned above. + +Title-page. _Parve_ ... _quò_-. Ovid, _Tristia_, I, i, 1-2. + +A2^v-A3^v. The authors of the extracts are Dryden, Shadwell, Lacy, Lee, +and Banks. The Banks extract is unlikely to have been in print for more +than a few weeks at the time _PdT_ was published. The corresponding list +in _PC_ is called "Quotations" and contains twenty-three passages of +which only two reappear in _PdT_. + +A4^r: 15-16. _Philip, the first Christian Emperour._ Marcus Julius +Philipus, c. 204-249. + +P. 2: 21-22. _Yet ... Liberty._ The press regained its liberty through +the expiry of the Licensing Act in 1679. This passage does not occur in +_PC_ and may be one of the "Ingenious Person's" additions to _PdT_. + +P. 3: 28. _Cris-cros-row._ I.e., Christ-cross-row. The alphabet with a +cross before it as represented in horn books. + +P. 4: 4. _Honourable stabs._ Perhaps a reference to the attack on Dryden +in Rose Alley on 16 December 1679, which was popularly attributed to +various honorable persons satirized in Mulgrave's _An Essay upon Satyr_. + +P. 4: 9-10. _Tho' ... Bays._ Cf. John Aubrey on the funeral of Samuel +Butler on 27 September 1680: + + About 25 of his old acquaintance at his Funerall. I myself being + one of the eldest, helped to carry the Pall. His coffin covered + with black Bayes. (_Brief Lives_, ed. O. L. Dick [London, 1958], p. + 47.) + +P. 6: 7. _As Tonnellers catch Partridge._ A tunnel was a kind of net +used by bird-catchers. + +P. 6: 21-22. _As ... go._ Cf. Donne's "A Lame Begger," _The Satires, +Epigrams and Verse Letters_, ed. W. Milgate (Oxford, 1969), p. 51. + +P. 6: 27. _BARBARA._ The opening word of a mnemonic used in expressing +the moods of the syllogism. + +P. 7: 21. _Lab'ring Muses._ _PC_ has "tab'ring" (i.e., playing on +tabors), a fairly clear case of _lectio difficilior_. + +P. 10: 6. _How a curst Broker met a Poet._ The earlier part of the +description seems to be hinting at the distresses of John Banks, who was +reduced to poverty after two of his plays met censorship trouble; +however, the closing section on pp. 16-17 is clearly meant to refer to +Wycherley. It is possible that this is another of the "Ingenious +Person's" additions. Indeed it would have to be as Wycherley's troubles +did not begin until after the date given for the departure of the Poeta. + +P. 10: 21. _White-Fryers._ The sanctuary area on the city side of the +Temple: Shadwell's Alsatia. + +P. 12: 1-2. _half ... Temple-Bar._ I.e., Whitefriars. + +P. 12: 26. _Being Tragedy, and writ in Rhimes._ Dryden abandoned rhyme +with _All for Love_ (1677). Cf. Elkanah Settle's complaint in the +preface to _Ibrahim_ (licensed 4 May 1676): "Another misfortune the Play +had, that it was written in Rhime, a way of writing very much out of +Fashion...." + +P. 16: 9. _Where Bread and Cheese he said he'ld buy._ This detail has +some resemblance to a circumstance in Shiels and Cibber's account of +the death of Otway, which may derive from a mistaken belief that he was +the subject of the passage. See R. G. Ham, _Otway and Lee_ (New Haven, +1931), p. 214. + +P. 16: 14. _One who would play at six-pence gleek._ The index of +extravagance at gleek seems to have advanced alarmingly in the course of +the seventeenth century. Jonson in _The Devil is an Ass_ (V, ii, 31) +specifies three-pence; however, Shadwell in 1680 was already foreseeing +a shilling (_Works_, ed. M. Summers, IV, 60). + +P. 16: 15. _Creswel's._ The famous bawdy house, finally closed down in +1681. + +P. 16: 16. _Locket's._ An ordinary at Charing-Cross mentioned in many +Restoration comedies. + +P. 16: 21. _the Royal Theatre._ Presumably the Theatre Royal, Drury +Lane, although the term could equally well be meant for the theatre at +Whitehall. + +P. 17: 7. _the briskest of our Crew._ Probably Dryden, although the +description has some problematical features. The fact that the poet is a +rhymer and connected with the Duke's house rules out most other +possibilities. + +P. 19: 1. _Will have a Poet at their tail._ Possibly Otway. In _PC_ (pp. +2-3), a shorter version of the description is combined with lines from +the "Dryden" portrait--the one piece of evidence for the truncation +theory: + + Then there are mighty Peers o' th' Realm, + Whose conduct helps to steer the Helm: + They're great pretenders unto Wit. + And that they may seem to incourage it + They'll have a Poet at their Tail: + And that to know him they mayn't fail, + He has an old fashion thread-bare Coat, + Foul Linnen, Hat not worth a Groat; + One points and cries, there goes _Long-lane_, + Another cries, he's Long-and-Lean. + For like one newly fluxt he'l crawl, + And lets the Foot-Boys take the Wall. + But when to th' Tavern they do go, + Their Honours will more freedom show; + There they may Swagger Swear and Lye, + And doe any thing, but Pay: + Damn ye, I din'd with such a Lord to Day, + And such a Lord did like my Play: + And without Vanity it is + The best I writ, my Master-piece. + +P. 20: 2. _Channel-row._ The scene of this canto is Arthur Prior's +Rhenish house in Channel-row near Whitehall. + +P. 20: 19. _A. as 'tis first in th' Alphabet._ In view of his exalted +station, wealth, and Whiggish company, it is probably safe to identify +"A" with Charles Sackville, Sixth Earl of Dorset, who is known as a +habitué of Prior's wineshop through the stories of his encouragement of +the owner's nephew Matthew. However, most details would apply equally +well--in his own mind at least--to another prominent patron of the day, +John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave. In this connection, it is interesting +to note that Mulgrave's account at Child's bank records a payment of +£20/--/--made on 14 May 1683 to a Thomas Wood. The name was, naturally, +a common one. + +P. 21: 28. _And wounds it too with its own Sting._ Presumably a +reference to Dorset's "On Mr. Edward Howard upon his British Princes" or +Mulgrave's "An Essay upon Satyr." Both poems may be found in the first +volume of the Yale _Poems on Affairs of State_ series (ed. George +deForrest Lord [New Haven, 1963]). + +P. 22: 3. _Next unto A. B. took his place._ Sir George Etherege. The +opening lines anticipate Dean Lockier's comment recorded by Spence that +"he was exactly his own Sir Fopling Flutter" which may on the other hand +be derived from it. See Joseph Spence, _Observations, Anecdotes, and +Characters of Books and Men_, ed. James M. Osborn (Oxford, 1966), p. +281. + +P. 22: 17. _For you must know he's kept by a Miss._ Frederick Bracher +has pointed out in a letter that Etherege was closely connected at this +time with the circle of the Duchesse de Mazarin. See James Thorpe's note +on "A Song on Basset," _The Poems of Sir George Etherege_ (Princeton, +1963), pp. 85-87. + +P. 22: 25. _Heroick C._ Elkanah Settle. + +P. 23: 7. _Cadem_----. William Cademan, Settle's principal publisher. + +P. 23: 23. _But if you speak one word of's Chumb._ Probably William +Buller Fyfe, an Oxford friend who had assisted Settle with his first +play, _Cambyses_. Fyfe was dead by the time the play reached the stage +and Settle was criticized for bringing it out under his own name only. + +P. 23: 26. _D. the brisk lack-latine Poet._ Thomas Shadwell. The +accusation that he knew no Latin was repeated by Dryden in _The +Vindication of the Duke of Guise_ (1683) and is denied with +characteristic stridency by Shadwell in _The Tenth Satyr of Juvenal_ +(1687). The accusation that his plays were partly written by others is +made by Dryden in _Mac Flecknoe_ ("But let no alien Sedley interpose") +and is present by implication in Rochester's reference in "Timon" to +"Shadwell's unassisted former Scenes...." Shadwell began his career as +the collaborator of the aged Duke of Newcastle and acknowledges Sedley's +help in his best comedy, _A True Widow_ (1678). He was on good terms +with Rochester, Dorset, and Buckingham and addressed dedications to the +two last. The references to Horace and Lucretius allude to the preface +to _The Humorists_ and the opening scene of _The Virtuoso_, +respectively. + +P. 24: 14. _Angling for single Money in a Shoe._ This line from the +Epilogue to _The Libertine_ (1676) is quoted in context in the Author's +Epistle. It also appears on the title-page of _PC_. + +P. 27: 14. _Whetstone-Whore_. A reference to Whetstone Park, a street at +the North end of Lincoln's Inn Fields. The name was subsequently changed +to Whetstone St., but has since reverted, perhaps under the +liberalizing influences of its principal present-day occupants, _The New +Statesman_ and the Olivetti typewriter company. + +P. 30: 12-17. _To ... pick'd._ The reference is apparently to one of the +"posture artists" of Moorfields, another brothel district; however, +there may also be an allusion intended to an incident in the Duke's +playhouse on 23 June 1679, when John Churchill, the future Duke of +Marlborough, attempted to cane Betty Mackerell, an orange girl, and was +thrashed in his turn by Thomas Otway. See Ham, _Otway and Lee_, pp. +112-115. + + +William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California, Los +Angeles + +THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY + +2520 CIMARRON STREET, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90018 + +_General Editors:_ William E. Conway, William Andrews Clark Memorial +Library; George Robert Guffey, University of California, Los Angeles: +Maximillian E. Novak, University of California, Los Angeles + +_Corresponding Secretary:_ Mrs. Edna C. Davis, William Andrews Clark +Memorial Library + + * * * * * + +The Society's purpose is to publish rare Restoration and +eighteenth-century works (usually as facsimile reproductions). All +income of the Society is devoted to defraying costs of publication and +mailing. + +Correspondence concerning memberships in the United States and Canada +should be addressed to the Corresponding Secretary at the William +Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 2520 Cimarron Street, Los Angeles, +California. Correspondence concerning editorial matters may be addressed +to the General Editors at the same address. Manuscripts of introductions +should conform to the recommendations of the MLA _Style Sheet_. The +membership fee is $5.00 a year in the United States and Canada and +£.19.6 in Great Britain and Europe. British and European prospective +members should address B. H. 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Introduction by +David Rodes. + + * * * * * + +Members of the Society will receive copies of Clark Library seminar +papers. + + + + +SPECIAL PUBLICATION FOR 1969-1970-1971 + + +Gerard Langbaine, _An Account of the English Dramatick Poets_ (1691), +Introduction by John Loftis. 2 Volumes. Approximately 600 pages. Price +to members of the Society, $7.00 for the first copy (both volumes), and +$8.50 for additional copies. Price to non-members, $10.00. + + * * * * * + +Already published in this series: + +1. John Ogilby, _The Fables of Aesop Paraphras'd in Verse_ (1668), with +an Introduction by Earl Miner. 228 pages. + +2. John Gay, _Fables_ (1727, 1738), with an Introduction by Vinton A. +Dearing. 366 pages. + +3. _The Empress of Morocco and Its Critics_ (Elkanah Settle, _The +Empress of Morocco_ [1673] with five plates; _Notes and Observations on +the Empress of Morocco_ [1674] by John Dryden, John Crowne and Thomas +Shadwell; _Notes and Observations on the Empress of Morocco Revised_ +[1674] by Elkanah Settle; and _The Empress of Morocco. A Farce_ [1674] +by Thomas Duffett), with an Introduction by Maximillian E. Novak. 348 +pages. + +4. _After THE TEMPEST_ (the Dryden-Davenant version of _The Tempest_ +[1670]; the "operatic" _Tempest_ [1674]; Thomas Duffett's _Mock-Tempest_ +[1675]; and the "Garrick" _Tempest_ [1756]), with an Introduction by +George Robert Guffey. 332 pages. + +Price to members of the Society, $3.50 for the first copy of each title, +and $4.25 for additional copies. Price to non-members, $5.00. Standing +orders for this continuing series of Special Publications will be +accepted. British and European orders should be addressed to B. H. +Blackwell, Broad Street, Oxford, England. + + + + +THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY + +PUBLICATIONS IN PRINT + +1948-1949 + +16. Henry Nevil Payne, _The Fatal Jealousie_ (1673). + +18. Anonymous, "Of Genius," in _The Occasional Paper_, Vol. III, No. 10 +(1719), and Aaron Hill, Preface to _The Creation_ (1720). + + +1949-1950 + +19. Susanna Centlivre, _The Busie Body_ (1709). + +20. Lewis Theobald, _Preface to the Works of Shakespeare_ (1734). + +22. Samuel Johnson, _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749), and two +_Rambler_ papers (1750). + +23. John Dryden, _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681). + + +1951-1952 + +26. Charles Macklin, _The Man of the World_ (1792). + +31. Thomas Gray, _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard_ (1751), and +_The Eton College Manuscript_. + + +1952-1953 + +41. Bernard Mandeville, _A Letter to Dion_ (1732). + + +1963-1964 + +104. Thomas D'Urfey, _Wonders in the Sun; or, The Kingdom of the Birds_ +(1706). + + +1964-1965 + +110. John Tutchin, _Selected Poems_ (1685-1700). + +111. Anonymous, _Political Justice_ (1736). + +112. Robert Dodsley, _An Essay on Fable_ (1764). + +113. T. R., _An Essay Concerning Critical and Curious Learning_ (1698). + +114. _Two Poems Against Pope_: Leonard Welsted, _One Epistle to Mr. A. +Pope_ (1730), and Anonymous, _The Blatant Beast_ (1742). + + +1965-1966 + +115. Daniel Defoe and others, _Accounts of the Apparition of Mrs. Vea_ + +116. Charles Macklin, _The Covent Garden Theatre_ (1752). + +117. Sir Roger L'Estrange, _Citt and Bumpkin_ (1680). + +118. Henry More, _Enthusiasmus Triumphatus_ (1662). + +119. Thomas Traherne, _Meditations on the Six Days of the Creation_ +(1717). + +120. Bernard Mandeville, _Aesop Dress'd or a Collection of Fables_ +(1704). + + +1966-1967 + +123. Edmond Malone, _Cursory Observations on the Poems Attributed to Mr. +Thomas Rowley_ (1782). + +124. Anonymous, _The Female Wits_ (1704). + +125. Anonymous, _The Scribleriad_ (1742). Lord Hervey, _The Difference +Between Verbal and Practical Virtue_ (1742). + + +1967-1968 + +129. Lawrence Echard, _Prefaces to Terence's Comedies_ (1694) and +_Plautus's Comedies_ (1694). + +130. Henry More, _Democritus Platonissans_ (1646). + +132. Walter Harte, _An Essay on Satire, Particularly on the Dunciad_ +(1730). + + +1968-1969 + +133. John Courtenay, _A Poetical Review of the Literary and Moral +Character of the Late Samuel Johnson_ (1786). + +134. John Downes, _Roscius Anglicanus_ (1708). + +135. Sir John Hill, _Hypochondriasis, a Practical Treatise_ (1766). + +136. Thomas Sheridan, _Discourse ... Being Introductory to His Course of +Lectures on Elocution and the English Language_ (1759). + +137. Arthur Murphy, _The Englishman From Paris_ (1736). + +138. [Catherine Trotter], _Olinda's Adventures_ (1718). + + +1969-1970 + +139. John Ogilvie, _An Essay on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients_ +(1762). + +140. _A Learned Dissertation on Dumpling_ (1726) and _Pudding Burnt to +Pot or a Compleat Key to the Dissertation on Dumpling_ (1727). + +141. Selections from Sir Roger L'Estrange's _Observator_ (1681-1687). + +142. Anthony Collins, _A Discourse Concerning Ridicule and Irony in +Writing_ (1729). + +143. _A Letter From A Clergyman to His Friend, With An Account of the +Travels of Captain Lemuel Gulliver_ (1726). + +144. _The Art of Architecture, A Poem. In Imitation of Horace's Art of +Poetry_ (1742). + +Publications of the first fifteen years of the Society (numbers 1-90) +are available in paperbound units of six issues at $16.00 per unit, from +the Kraus Reprint Company, 16 East 46th Street, New York, N.Y. 10017. + +Publications in print are available at the regular membership rate of +$8.00 yearly. Prices of single issues may be obtained upon request. +Subsequent publications may be checked in the annual prospectus. + + * * * * * + + Transcriber's Notes: + + Obvious spelling and typos corrected in the prose. Poetry lines + corrected to image. + + In this version superscripts are introduced by the caret character, + e.g. 28^6 + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poeta de Tristibus: Or, the Poet's +Complaint, by Anonymous + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43673 *** |