_CHAP. XVIII._
_Of sensable figures altering and affecting the mynde by alteration of sense or intendements in whole clauses or speaches._
As by the last remembred figures the sence of single wordes is altered, so by these that follow is that of whole and entire speach: and first by the Courtly figure _Allegoria_, which is when we speake one thing and thinke another, and that our wordes and our meanings meete not. The vse of this figure is so large, and his vertue of so great efficacie as it is supposed no man can pleasantly vtter and perswade without it, but in effect is sure neuer or very seldome to thriue and prosper in the world, that cannot skilfully put in vse, in somuch as not onely euery common Courtier, but also the grauest Counsellour, yea and the most n.o.ble and wisest Prince of them all are many times enforced to vse it, by example (say they) of the great Emperour who had it vsually in his mouth to say, _Qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare_. Of this figure therefore which for his duplicitie we call the figure of [_false semblant or dissimulation_] we will speake first as of the chief ringleader and captaine of all other figures, either in the Poeticall or oratorie science.
[Sidenote: _Allegoria_, or the Figure of false semblant.]
And ye shall know that we may dissemble, I meane speake otherwise then we thinke, in earnest as well as in sport, vnder couert and darke termes, and in learned and apparant speaches, in short sentences, and by long ambage and circ.u.mstance of wordes, and finally aswell when we lye as when we tell truth. To be short euery speach wrested from his owne naturall signification to another not altogether so naturall is a kinde of dissimulation, because the wordes beare contrary countenaunce to th"intent. But properly & in his princ.i.p.all vertue _Allegoria_ is when we do speake in sence translatiue and wrested from the owne signification, neuerthelesse applied to another not altogether contrary, but hauing much coueniencie with it as before we said of the metaph.o.r.e: as for example if we should call the common wealth, a shippe; the Prince a Pilot, the Counsellours mariners, the stormes warres, the calme and [_hauen_] peace, this is spoken all in allegorie: and because such inuersion of sence in one single worde is by the figure _Metaph.o.r.e_, of whom we spake before, and this manner of inuersion extending to whole and large speaches, it maketh the figure _allegorie_ to be called a long and perpetuall Metaph.o.r.e. A n.o.ble man after a whole yeares absence from his ladie, sent to know how she did, and whether she remayned affected toward him as she was when he left her.
_Louely Lady I long full sore to heare, If ye remaine the same, I left you last yeare._
To whom she answered in _allegorie_ other two verses: _My louing Lorde I will well that ye wist, The thred is spon, that neuer shall untwist._
Meaning, that her loue was so stedfast and constant toward him as no time or occasion could alter it. _Virgill_ in his shepeherdly poemes called _Eglogues_ vsed as rusticall but fit _allegorie_ for the purpose thus: _Claudite iam riuos pueri sat prata biberunt._
Which I English thus: _Stop up your streames (my lads) the medes haue drunk ther fill._
As much to say, leaue of now, yee haue talked of the matter inough: for the shepheards guise in many places is by opening certaine sluces to water their pastures, so as when they are wet inough they shut them againe: this application is full Allegoricke.
Ye haue another manner of Allegorie not full, but mixt, as he that wrate thus: _The cloudes of care haue coured all my coste, The stormes of strife, do threaten to appeare: The waues of woe, wherein my ship is toste.
Haue broke the banks, where lay my life so deere.
Chippes of ill chance, are fallen amidst my choise, To marre the minde that ment for to reioyce._
I call him not a full Allegorie, but mixt, bicause he discouers withall what the _cloud, storme, waue_, and the rest are, which in a full allegorie should not be discouered, but left at large to the readers iudgement and coniecture.
[Sidenote: _Enigma_, or the Riddle.]
We dissemble againe vnder couert and darkes speaches, when we speake by way of riddle (_Enigma_) of which the sence can hardly be picked out, but by the parties owne a.s.soile, as he that said: _It is my mother well I wot, And yet the daughter that I begot._
Meaning it by the ise which is made of frozen water, the same being molten by the sunne or fire, makes water againe.
My mother had an old woman in her nurserie, who in the winter nights would put vs forth many prety ridles, whereof this is one: _I haue a thing and rough it is And in the midst a hole I wis: There came a yong man with his ginne, And he put it a handfull in_.
The good old Gentlewoman would tell vs that were children how it was meant by a furd glooue. Some other naughtie body would peraduenture haue construed it not halfe so mannerly. The riddle is pretie but that it holdes too much of the _Cachemphaton_ or foule speach and may be drawen to a reprobate sence.
[Sidenote: _Parimia_, or Prouerb.]
We dissemble after a sort, when we speake by comon prouerbs, or, as we vse to call them, old said sawes, as thus: _As the olde c.o.c.ke crowes so doeth the chick: A bad Cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick._
Meaning by the first, that the yong learne by the olde, either to be good or euill in their behauiors: by the second, that he is not to be counted a wise man, who being in authority, and hauing the administration of many good and great things, will not serue his owne turne and his friends whilest he may, & many such prouerbiall speeches: as _Totnesse is turned French_, for a strange alteration: _Skarborow warning_, for a sodaine commandement, allowing no respect or delay to bethinke a man of his busines. Note neuerthelesse a diuersitie, for the two last examples be prouerbs, the two first prouebiall speeches.
[Sidenote: _Ironia_, or the Drie mock.]
Ye doe likewise dissemble, when ye speake in derision or mokerie, & that may be many waies: as sometime in sport, sometime in earnest, and priuily, and apertly, and pleasantly, and bitterly: but first by the figure _Ironia_, which we call the _drye mock_: as he that said to a bragging Ruffian, that threatened he would kill and slay, no doubt you are a good man of your hands: or, as it was said by a French king, to one that praide his reward, shewing how he had bene cut in the face at a certain battell fought in his seruice: ye may see, quoth the king, what it is to runne away & looke backwards. And as _Alphonso_ king of Naples, said to one that profered to take his ring when he washt before dinner, this wil serue another well: meaning that the Gentlemen had another time taken them, & becaufe the king forgot to aske for them, neuer restored his ring againe.
[Sidenote: _Sarcasmus_, or the Bitter taunt.]
Or when we deride with a certaine seueritie, we may call it the bitter taunt [_Sarcasmus_] as _Charles_ the fift Emperour aunswered the Duke of Arskot, beseeching him recompence of seruice done at the siege of Renty, against _Henry_ the French king, where the Duke was taken prisoner, and afterward escaped clad like a Colliar. Thou wert taken, quoth the Emperour, like a coward, and scapedst like a Colliar, wherefore get thee home and liue vpon thine owne. Or as king _Henry_ the eight said to one of his priuy chamber, who sued for Sir _Anthony Rowse_, knight of Norfolke, that his Maiestie would be good vnto him, for that he was an ill begger.
Quoth the king againe, if he be ashamed to beg, we are ashamed to geue. Or as _Charles_ the fift Emperour, hauing taken in battaile _Iohn Frederike_ Duke of Saxon, with the Lantgraue of Hessen and others: this Duke being a man of monstrous bignesse and corpulence, after the Emperor had seene the prisoners, said to those that were about him, I haue gone a hunting many times, yet neuer tooke I such a swine before.
[Sidenote: _Asteismus_ or the Merry scoffe, otherwise the ciuill iest.]
Or when we speake by manner of pleasantery, or mery skoffe, that is by a kind of mock, whereof the sence is farreset, & without any gall or offence. The Greekes call it [_Asteismus_] we may terme it the ciuill iest, because it is a mirth very full of ciuilitie, and such as the most ciuill men doo vse. As _Cato_ said to one that had geuen him a good knock on the head with a long peece of timber he bare on his shoulder, and then bad him beware: what (quoth _Cato_) wilt thou strike me againe? for ye know, a warning should be geuen before a man haue receiued harme, and not after. And as king _Edward_ the sixt, being of young yeres, but olde in wit, saide to one of his priuie chamber, who sued for a pardon for one that was condemned for a robberie, telling the king that if was but a small trifle, not past sixteene shillings matter which he had taken: quoth the king againe, but I warrant you the fellow was sorrie it had not bene sixteene pound: meaning how the malefactors intent was as euill in that trifle, as if it had bene a greater summe of money. In these examples if ye marke there is no griefe or offence ministred as in those other before, and yet are very wittie, and spoken in plaine derision.
The Emperor _Charles_ the fift was a man of very few words, and delighted little in talke. His brother king _Ferdinando_ being a man of more pleasant discourse, sitting at the table with him, said, I pray your Maiestie be not so silent, but let vs talke a little. What neede that brother, quoth the Emperor, since you haue words enough for vs both.
[Sidenote: _Micterismus_, or the Fleering frumpe.]
Or when we giue a mocke with a scornefull countenance as in some smiling sort looking aside or by drawing the lippe awry, or shrinking vp the nose; the Greeks called it _Micterismus_, we may terme it a fleering frumpe, as he that said to one whose wordes he beleued not, no doubt Sir of that.
This fleering frumpe is one of the Courtly graces of _hicke the scorner._
[Sidenote: _Antiphrasis_, or the Broad floute.]
Or when we deride by plaine and flat contradiction, as he that saw a dwarfe go in the streete said to his companion that walked with him: See yonder gyant: and to a Negro or woman blackemoore, in good sooth ye are a faire one, we may call it the broad floute.
[Sidenote: _Charientismus_, or the Priuy nippe.]
Or when ye giue a mocke vnder smooth and lowly wordes as he that hard one call him all to nought and say, thou art sure to be hanged ere thou dye: quoth th"other very soberly, Sir I know your maistership speakes but in iest, the Greeks call it (_charientismus_) we may call it the priuy nippe, or a myld and appealing mockery: all these be souldiers to the figure _allegoria_ and fight vnder the banner of dissimulation.
[Sidenote: _Hiperbole_, or the Ouer reacher, otherwise called the loud lyer.]
Neuerthelesse ye haue yet two or three other figures that smatch a spice of the same _false semblant_, but in another sort and maner of phrase, whereof one is when we speake in the superlatiue and beyond the limites of credit, that is by the figure which the Greeks call _Hiperbole_, Latines _Demenitiens_ or the lying figure. I for his immoderate excesse cal him the ouer reacher right with his originall or [_lowd lyar_] & me thinks not amisse: now when I speake that which neither I my selfe thinke to be true, nor would haue any other body beleeue, it must needs be a great dissimulation, because I meane nothing lesse then that I speake, and this maner of speech is vsed, when either we would greatly aduaunce or greatly abase the reputation of any thing or person, and must be vsed very discreetly, or els it will seeme odious, for although a prayse or other report may be allowed beyond credit, it may not be beyond all measure, specially in the proseman, as he that was a speaker in a Parliament of king _Henry_ the eights raigne, in his Oration which ye know is of ordinary to be made before the Prince at the first a.s.sembly of both houses, ould seeme to prayse his Maiestie thus. What should I go about to recite your Maiesties innumerable vertues, euen as much as if I tooke vpon me to number the stares of the skie, or to tell the sands of the sea. This _Hyperbole_ was both _ultra fidem_ and also _ultra modum_, and therefore of a graue and wise Counsellour made the speaker to be accompted a grosse flattering foole: peraduenture if he had vsed it thus, it had bene better and neuerthelesse a lye too, but a more moderate lye and no lesse to the purpose of the kings commendation, thus. I am not able with any wordes sufficiently to expresse your Maiesties regall vertues, your kingly merites also towardes vs your people and realme are so exceeding many, as your prayses therefore are infinite, your honour aud renowne euerlasting: And yet all this if we shall measure it by the rule of exact veritie, is but an vntruth, yet a more cleanely commendation then was maister Speakers. Neuerthelesse as I said before if we fall a praysing, specially of our mistresses vertue, bewtie, or other good parts, we be allowed now and then to ouer-reach a little by way of comparison as he that said thus in prayse of his Lady.
_Giue place ye louers here before, That spent your boasts and braggs in vaine: My Ladies bewtie pa.s.seth more, The best of your I dare well fayne: Then doth the sunne the candle light, Or brightest day the darkest night._
And as a certaine n.o.ble Gentlewoman lamenting at the vnkindnesse of her louer said very pretily in this figure.
_But since it will no better be, My teares shall neuer blin: To moist the earth in such degree, That I may drowne therein: That by my death all men may say, Lo weemen are as true as they._
[Sidenote: _Periphrasis_, or the Figure of ambage.]
Then haue ye the figure _Periphrasis_, holding somewhat of the disembler, by reason of a secret intent not appearing by the words, as when we go about the bush, and will not in one or a few words expresse that thing which we desire to haue knowen, but do chose rather to do it by many words, as we our selues wrote of our Soueraigne Lady thus: _Whom Princes serue, and Realmes obay, And greatest of Bryton kings begot: She came abroade euen yesterday, When such as saw her, knew her not._
And the rest that followeth, meaning her Maiesties person, which we would seeme to hide leauing her name vnspoken to the intent the reader should gesse at it: neuerthelesse vpon the matter did so manifestly disclose it, as any simple iudgement might easily perceiue by whom it was ment, that is by Lady _Elizabeth, Queene of England and daughter to king Henry the eight_, and therein resteth the dissimulation. It is one of the gallantest figures among the poetes so it be vsed discretely and in his right kinde, but many of these makers that be not halfe their craftes maisters, do very often abuse it and also many waies. For if the thing or person they go about to describe by circ.u.mstance, be by the writers improuidence otherwise bewrayed, it looseth the grace of a figure, as he that said: _The tenth of March when Aries receiued, Dan Phoebus raies into his horned hed._
Intending to describe the spring of the yeare, which euery man knoweth of himselfe, hearing the day of March named: the verses be very good the figure nought worth, if it were meant in Periphrase for the matter, that is the season of the yeare which should haue bene couertly disclosed by ambage, was by and by blabbed out by naming the day of the moneth, & so the purpose of the figure disapointed, peraduenture it had bin better to haue said thus: _The month and date when Aries receiud, Dan Phoebus raies into his horned head._
For now there remaineth for the Reader somewhat to studie and gesse vpon, and yet the spring time to the learned iudgement sufficiently expressed.
The n.o.ble Earle of Surrey wrote thus: _In winters iust returne, when Boreas gan his raigne, And euery tree vnclothed him fast as nature taught them plaine._
I would faine learne of some good maker, whether the Earle spake this in figure of _Periphrase_ or not, for mine owne opinion I thinke that if he ment to describe the winter season, he would not haue disclosed it so broadly, as to say winter at the first worde, for that had bene against the rules of arte, and without any good iudgement: which in so learned & excellent a personage we ought not to suspect, we say therefore that for winter it is no _Periphrase_ but language at large: we say for all that, hauing regard to the second verse that followeth it is a _Periphrase_, seeming that thereby he intended to shew in what part of the winter his loues gaue him anguish, that is in the time which we call the fall of the leafe, which begins in the moneth of October, and stands very well with the figure to be vttered in that sort notwithstanding winter be named before, for winter hath many parts: such namely as do not shake of the leafe, nor vncloth the trees as here is mentioned: thus may ye iudge as I do, that this n.o.ble Erle wrate excellently well and to purpose. Moreouer, when a maker will seeme to vse circ.u.mlocution to set forth any thing pleasantly and figuratiuely, yet no lesse plaine to a ripe reader, then if it were named expresly, and when all is done, no man can perceyue it to be the thing intended. This is a foule ouersight in any writer as did a good fellow, who weening to shew his cunning, would needs by periphrase expresse the realme of Scotland in no lesse then eight verses, and when he had said all, no man could imagine it to be spoken of Scotland: and did besides many other faults in his verse, so deadly belie the matter by his description, as it would pitie any good maker to heare it.
[Sidenote: _Synecdoche_, or the Figure of quick conceite.]
Now for the shutting vp of this Chapter, will I remember you farther of that manner of speech which the Greekes call _Synecdoche_, and we the figure of [_quicke conceite_] who for the reasons before alleged, may be put under the speeches _allegoricall_, because of the darkenes and duplicitie of his sence: as when one would tell me how the French king was ouerthrowen at Saint Quintans. I am enforced to think that it was not the king himselfe in person, but the Constable of Fraunce with the French kings power. Or if one would say, the towne of Andwerpe were famished, it is not so to be taken, but of the people of the towne of Andwerp, and this conceit being drawen aside, and (as it were) from one thing to another, it encombers the minde with a certaine imagination what it may be that is meant, and not expressed: as he that said to a young gentlewoman, who was in her chamber making her selfe vnready. Mistresse will ye geue me leaue to vnlace your peticote, meaning (perchance) the other thing that might follow such vnlacing. In the olde time, whosoeuer was allowed to vndoe his Ladies girdle, he might lie with her all night: wherfore the taking of a womans maydenhead away, was said to vndoo her girdle. _Virgineam dissoluit zonan_, saith the Poet, conceiuing out of a thing precedent, a thing subsequent. This may suffice for the knowledge of this figure [_quicke conceit._]
_CHAP. XIX._
_Of Figures sententious, otherwise called Rhetoricall_.
Now if our presupposall be true that the Poet is of all other the most auncient Orator, as he that by good & pleasant perswasions first reduced the wilde and beastly people into publicke societies and ciuilitie of life, insinuating vnto them, vnder fictions with sweete and coloured speeches, many wholesome lessons and doctrines, then no doubt there is nothing so fitte for him, as to be furnished with all the figures that be _Rhetoricall_, and such as do most beautifie language with eloquence & sententiousnes. Therefore since we haue already allowed to our maker his _auricular_ figures, and also his _sensable_, by which all the words and clauses of his meeters are made as well tunable to the eare, as stirring to the minde, we are now by order to bestow vpon him those other figures which may execute both offices, and all at once to beautifie and geue sence and sententiousnes to the whole language at large. So as if we should intreate our maker to play also the Orator, and whether it be to pleade, or to praise, or to aduise, that in all three cases he may vtter, and also perswade both copiously and vehemently.
And your figures rhethoricall, besides their remembered ordinarie vertues, that is, sententiousnes, & copious amplification, or enlargement of language, doe also conteine a certaine sweet and melodious manner of speech, in which respect, they may, after a sort, be said _auricular_: because the eare is no lesse rauished with their currant tune, than the mind is with their sententiousnes. For the eare is properly but an instrument of conueyance for the minde, to apprehend the sence by the sound. And our speech is made melodious or harmonicall, not onely by strayned tunes, as those of _Musick_, but also by choise of smoothe words: and thus, or thus, marshalling them in their comeliest construction and order, and aswell by sometimes sparing, sometimes spending them more or lesse liberally, and carrying or transporting of them farther off or neerer, setting them with sundry relations, and variable formes, in the ministery and vse of words, doe breede no little alteration in man. For to say truely, what els is man but his minde? which, whosoeuer haue skil to compa.s.se, and make yeelding and flexible, what may not he commaund the body to perfourme? He therefore that hath vanquished the minde of man, hath made the greatest and most glorious conquest. But the minde is not a.s.sailable vnlesse it be by sensible approches, whereof the audible is of greatest force for instruction or discipline: the visible, for apprehension of exterior knowledges as the Philosopher saith. Therefore the well tuning of your words and clauses to the delight of the eare, maketh your information no lesse plausible to the minde than to the eare: no though you filled them with neuer so much sence and sententiousnes.
Then also must the whole tale (if it tende to perswasion) beare his iust and reasonable measure, being rather with the largest, than with the scarcest. For like as one or two drops of water perce not the flint stone, but many and often droppings doo: so cannot a few words (be they neuer so pithie or sententious) in all cases and to all manner of mindes, make so deepe an impression, as a more mult.i.tude of words to the purpose discreetely, and without superfluitie vttered: the minde being no lesse vanquished with large loade of speech, than the limmes are with heauie burden. Sweetenes of speech, sentence and amplification, are therefore necessarie to an excellent Orator and Poet, ne may in no wise be spared from any of them.
And first of all others your figure that worketh by iteration or repet.i.tion of one word or clause doth much alter and affect the eare and also the mynde of the hearer, and therefore is counted a very braue figure both with the Poets and rhetoriciens, and this repet.i.tion may be in seuen sortes.